Young Adult / Gifted, Chapter Nine Pt. 1 (Revised) (Analysis)

Apparently no one else had seen her. If they had seen it and were secretly hiding it from her, well, that was just mean. But she knew they couldn't orchestrate that kind of cooperation. Pink hearses were the stuff of gossip and they all thrived on gossip as much as the weak coffee and vending machine snacks.

Charlotte began to convince herself that the whole experience was just a dream; she couldn’t have seen a pink hearse in the parking lot. No normal person would drive a funeral limo around town like a mini-van or SUV. Every day that she didn’t see the woman, she believed a little more that she’d imagined the whole thing.

And she almost convinced herself until she saw a flash of pink and outside the store and knew that the hallucination had returned. She wanted to page Randall so he could be her witness, having been a party of the first encounter. She didn't have time, though, as the woman breezed through the entrance seconds later.

Her hair was cut close to her face, framing it in a silvery white crop. The slight haircut accentuated her high cheekbones, slim nose, and sharp green eyes.

Charlotte realized that she was probably much younger than she had guessed; it was the white hair that had thrown her off. She was dressed conservatively in a white buttoned shirt and black pants. It disappointed Charlotte how average she looked; she would have blended into a crowd with no effort, indistinguishable from any other woman Charlote saw in the store every week.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the woman follow the same path she had on her previous visit. She didn't scan the aisles or watch any of the animals or customers. She went directly to the cat food, made her selection quickly, and returned to Charlotte's station. Charlotte's employee smile, fierce and forced, was already planted on her face.

"Did you find everything you were looking for today?" She had to pretend that she didn't recognize the woman. She didn't want to be known as the customer stalker. Pink hearse or no, she had to act like she was in control. "Would you like to sign up for our Palace Rewards card? You can save 10 percent today.”

“No, thank you.” She did not have the slow, southern drawl that many of the customers had. It was neutral and comforting even in its civility.

“Is there anything else I can do for you today? Do you need any toys or other items for your pets?” Charlotte was so distracted. She was real! The hearse was real! Charlotte wasn't crazy! Except that she was acting a little crazy in the celebration of her sanity.

“Only one thing," the woman said. "You can explain why you are wasting your potential.”

Charlotte was confused, but shrugged off the question. "Oh, this job's just temporary while I'm in school. Brain work's pretty minimal. Believe me, if we didn't keep the animals in cages, they could do my job."

"I am not speaking of this job, Charlotte. I am referring to your gift."The woman put both hands on the countertop. She looked hard at Charlotte, and Charlotte felt the stare. She turned slowly to present the bag of cat food and receipt.

Customers never spoke to her with such familiarity. The tone of her voice was too personal, too commanding for a stranger. It was unsettling, and Charlotte was suddenly afraid that she was the saner of the two of them. Maybe she would have to page Randall after all, along with the stock boys for protection.

Charlotte lowered her voice. "What are you talking about? What gift?"

"You may call it an ability if you prefer, but it was a gift." Her voice was not lowered at all. She maintained her gaze. "I know what you are capable of doing, and I know that you have been wasting it. To waste it is a grave mistake. I thought you would have understood that.”

Charlotte stood behind her register, her mouth slightly open. She didn’t know how to respond to this woman. A stream of syllables tumbled out of her mouth, although none of them could meet to form real words. Charlotte felt herself squirm under the woman's gaze, but she could not look away.

"I know why you were given the gift. You have a purpose, Charlotte, one that surpasses anything you could imagine. Did you truly believe it was merely a form of amusement?" Her exasperation was almost visible. She could not forget her own experience. Becoming aware of the gift is such an overwhelming moment. A new world had burst upon Charlotte, and the woman knew it would continue to gush. "Your use of the gift has been superficial at best."

“I don't know what you're talking about," Charlotte protested as her angry confusion rose in the back of her throat.

“That is a lie. My very presence here is an indication of your acknowledgment. You began to realize that events are happening which you cannot explain. And when that happened, you summoned me. I have arrived to inform you that your training will commence shortly.”

This woman was nuts. She probably escaped from the psych ward. "You know, I'm not looking for any cult training right now, so why don't you go recruit the squirrels in the park or something?" She pushed the change and receipt across the counter. It wasn't the kind of thing the employee handbook would list as good customer/cashier conversation, but Charlotte didn't care. If Cole could take seventeen breaks in a day, Charlotte could tell a customer that she was crazy.
Charlotte's laugh was silenced by the woman's piercing gaze. "This is not a joke. Your time has come, and you must prepare."

"You're insane! I don't even know you, and you talk like you know who I am and what I think. At first I felt sorry for you," she spat, "talking to your cat like he's a person and driving around in that dumb car. But the next time I see you, I'm calling the police. This is harrassment."

"It would not be wise to tell anyone about our meeting, Charlotte." Her voice was still calm, and it no longer comforted Charlotte. "None of your co-workers have seen me or my vehicle. They will not believe your claims. And with your recent odd behavior, they will judge you disturbed just as you have judged me."

Her head was spinning. Randall hadn't seen her the last time she came in the store, and he hadn't seen the car, either. She knew Cole wouldn't back her up, even if the woman invitied her to ride shotgun in the pink hearse.

"If you know what's happening to me," she began slowly, "then you have to tell me. You owe me that much."

"The things you have been experiencing, these are not your true gift. They are by-products of it. Your true gift came just before your thirteenth birthday, and with it, the power you have recently discovered. But at that time is was still so faint and undeveloped. Now you have matured, and the power is maturing with you, so you will require assistance. You had to see the early signs of the gift for yourself or nothing I will say would have affected you.”

"The only thing I understand is that I don't understand."

“Do you know how you first used the power? It was your thirteenth birthday. When the skating rink closed, that was your first taste of it. And when your father got his promotion? That was your doing as well."

The memories were instantly triggered. Charlotte and Addie sitting cross-legged in the family room, begging their mother not to humiliate Charlotte with a party at Skate-o-Rama. And her father had been miserable at his insurance job for as long as she could remember. Until the day he announced the promotion, and they moved to the house they never thought they could afford.

“My thirteenth birthday- that was seven years ago! Why did it take seven years to tell me?” She didn’t wait for an answer, her mind still reeling. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

"Those early things could be attributed to coincidence or luck. But as you matured, the power matured with you. Your control is greater, more widespread. If you do not learn to control it, you will find life very difficult. You will not be able to explain things without raising alarms. A faint smile spread on the woman's face. Her skin was milky white and smooth. "You are beginning to see the path; it will not be much longer before you will accept."

She turned to walk away, but Charlotte wasn’t satisfied with the vague riddles and unsubstantial information. Forgetting her register or her job, she ran to the parking lot.

"Wait! What do you mean? Accept what?"

"Accept your position," she said, as if that cleared away Charlotte's confusion.

“You’ve got to give me more to work with than that. I don’t even know what’s going on!” Charlotte called to her.

The woman stared at her from across the hood of the hearse. “I am not your babysitter, Charlotte, or some dripping faucet of information. Neither am I your conscience. I will assist you when it is warranted. Time is one commodity for which there is no guarantee. Your purpose is set, and it does not include sweeping pet hair."

Charlotte wanted to scream, but the woman spoke again.

"We will be watching, Max and I." She nodded to the front seat, and Charlotte saw that the gray cat was sitting there, watching her through the window. "I have given you sufficient information for one day."

"How do I know you're telling the truth? What if I say I don't believe you and just walk away?"

The woman sighed as if she had heard that threat before. "I am not one for cheap parlor tricks, but I will leave you with something to consider. You should get back to work before things return to normal.” She sank into the driver's seat, and the cat turned to his owner.

Charlotte looked past the hearse, and she realized that nothing was moving. She spun around, but the scene was the same. The wind had stopped, traffic on the street was frozen, and flying insects hung in mid-air, their wings immobilized.

"How in the world..." The words slipped from her lips as she stared. She ran back into the store, where the birds were silent, and the fish were as if encased in gelatin. She reached one finger toward a tank, and with a wave, everything was re-animated. Charlotte jumped.

She wanted answers, even if she did not know what questions they belonged to. A part of her wanted to believe that it was all just a detailed illusion. That part of her was rapidly shrinking.

Charlotte couldn’t sleep that night. She was stunned, and too many questions ran through her head, fighting for space. If she could match questions with what the woman had said, she might be able to make some sense of the ordeal.

There was no way to know when she would see the woman again. And even if she did, there was no guarantee she would provide any answers. It was more likely that she would just prompt more questions. Charlotte couldn't wait for those things.

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