Jaden powers and the inh.., p.1
Jaden Powers and the Inheritance Magic, page 1
Also by Jamar J. Perry
Cameron Battle and the Hidden Kingdoms
Cameron Battle and the Escape Trials
To my inner child—
you made it through
CHAPTER ONE
“Where are you, Jaden?” Mama shrieked over the phone. “It’s five p.m.!”
I sighed and rolled my eyes, my cell phone tucked near my right ear. “Mama, I’m at Elijah’s house. I asked if I could come over here . . . you know . . . this morning before you left for work.”
Elijah held a hand to his mouth to keep in his laughter as my mother yelled at me. Evening had come to Columbia Heights, the sun already beginning to drop behind the clouds. Elijah turned back to the television, his hands furiously pressing the game control buttons. I left him engrossed in Assassin’s Creed and walked to his bedroom window that overlooked his small backyard. Row houses spread as far as I could see, bordering Elijah’s house on the left and the right. I could just make out Adams Morgan in the distance, the neighborhood my mother was calling me from. Elijah didn’t live that far from me, but with my mother’s constant nagging, you’d think it was a hundred miles away.
“We told you to be home at five p.m.,” Mama said, lowering her voice.
“You told me to be home at six p.m.,” I corrected her.
“Jaden Powers, don’t tell me what I said,” she responded. “I know what I said, ’cause I was there when I said it.”
I knew she would say that. She always did. I went to my text message screen, took a screenshot of our messages this morning, and sent it to her. “Check your phone. You told me six.”
Mama quieted as the text message came through. There was a sharp intake of breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Jaden. I’ve just been so . . . worried about you.”
I sighed again. “I know, Mama, but I’m fine. You and Dad talk to me all the time about being safe and never staying out too late. And have I ever been late? I’ve always come home on time.”
Her voice broke a bit. “We just care about you so much. We love you.”
“And I love you. I’ll be home in an hour, okay? Let me just say ’bye to Elijah.”
I hung up before she could get another word in. My parents were always like that—hovering over me and being way too protective. They acted like I couldn’t do anything. Okay, sure, I was a bit clumsy, and I wasn’t the best at school or sports, but I at least knew how to tell time and when to come home.
Plus, I needed all the time I could get today. It was the end of summer, and school would start tomorrow. And Elijah would be going back to that fancy private school in Virginia. Without me.
“I sure wish you didn’t have to go back to Hamilton,” I grumbled, climbing into the bottom part of his bunk bed as he played the video game. “It’s going to be awful around here without you. Especially dealing with the gremlins at home.”
Elijah glanced at me and sighed, a sadness drifting through eyes that had turned glassy. But when I blinked, his tears were gone. He’d been like that all summer, growing sad whenever I mentioned Hamilton. Each time I pointed it out, he would shrug. I knew him enough to know he was hiding something, but when I asked about his secrets, he only went silent.
I decided to try again. “What are you thinking, Elijah? If you don’t want to go back to Hamilton, just say it. What’s been making you sad all summer?”
Elijah turned from me and snorted, his hands continuing to press his game controller buttons like they were the last buttons in the world. He began to mouth words, words I couldn’t read. He did that sometimes, going absent-minded in the middle of conversations.
“At least the gremlins are actually around,” he said, changing the subject. “My parents work too much. And going to Hamilton feels more like a prison than anything else.” He glanced my way before turning back to his game. “It feels like prison wherever you’re not.”
A twinge of unhappiness pinched my chest. I felt the same way. My parents were always telling me I needed to have more than one friend and that it wasn’t healthy to spend so much time with Elijah, but they didn’t understand. Elijah was all that I needed.
Even though he came home every weekend, I took a moment to memorize him. His nose slanted downward, the tip of it upturned into a point. His eyes were round, the whites of them slightly red on the outskirts. His eyebrows were full and bushy, and there was a faded scar next to his temple. I had noticed it when he turned eleven, but he claimed he didn’t know where it came from. His face was dark brown, like the midnight sky. I was lighter than him, but only slightly, my hair cut a bit closer on the sides than his. Elijah’s mouth was set in a thin line, while my lips were full, protruded a bit, and you could see the slight gap in between my two front teeth when I smiled—which I quite liked. A blue jean jacket wrapped around his shoulders, the tops of it furred. Although his parents worked a lot, his clothing shone and smelled with a newness that mine didn’t, and his shoes were as white as snow. I wore a brown hoodie and black jeans, and though I liked tennis shoes, it wasn’t like I used them for much besides bicycling.
“What time is it?” Elijah said, bringing me out of my thoughts. He threw the controller down, stood, and stretched to the sky.
I checked my phone again. “Five ten.”
He grinned. “Wanna go shoot some hoops before you have to leave?”
“You know I’m not good at that,” I said, pulling the covers over my head.
I heard Elijah’s shoes sink in the plush carpet as he approached and sat on the bed.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” he said.
“Talk about what?” My voice was muffled as I spoke through thick blankets. I could just make out the contours of his face through the rough, blue linen. Small hands grabbed my nose and wiggled it, soft laughter reaching my ears.
“You know what, Jaden,” he said, pulling the covers from over my head. “Let’s go outside before it’s too late.” I groaned, but I put on my shoes and followed him down three flights of brown, rickety steps, through the small kitchen with the white appliances, and to the backyard. If you could call it that. DC backyards were small and cramped, especially in Columbia Heights. Elijah’s was bordered with a brown fence, the left side of it new with sleek wood, while the right was rotted in places, weathered by constant rain. A basketball hoop rose from the ground, its base a blue color. My bicycle stood near the back entrance, right next to the basketball.
Elijah picked it up in deft hands, bouncing it over the cracked pavement near the back door; he shot a three from where he was standing.
“Whoosh,” he said, as the ball went through the net. I ran to pick it up and threw it back at him.
“Good job, Powers,” he said, a smile lighting his face. “Quick on your feet.”
“Yeah, quick to pick up your goals,” I responded. I stood in front of him as he bounced the basketball, his lips opening again to mouth words. He moved so quickly that I could have sworn he disappeared in the breeze. I stuck out an arm to stop him, but it was for nothing. Warm wind ruffled my hoodie, and before I knew it, I heard the unmistakable sound of the ball going through the net again.
“Wait,” I said, turning around to see Elijah spinning the ball on his index finger. “What happened? I didn’t even see you!”
Elijah’s eyebrow arched. “Maybe you just need to open your eyes.”
I growled and went over to him again as he bounced the ball between his legs. He moved, and I noticed that he was mouthing words again. Time seemed to slow as I moved with him. My right arm rose, stopping him in his tracks, and I grabbed the basketball with my left. In a swift arch, I planted my feet, faked to the right, and then shot the ball above Elijah’s outstretched hand, watching it sail across the pavement to the net, whooshing inside.
“I think I’m getting the hang of this,” I said.
“So do I,” he cheered, slapping fives with me. We played for the next ten minutes, but my momentary success at the beginning was the last. Elijah smashed fifteen shots in the goal to my two. And I had a feeling he gave me that second one.
“I gotta go,” I said, checking my cell as he made the sixteenth shot. “It’s five thirty.”
“You’re still not gonna say anything about me leaving?” he asked as I grabbed my bike from the fence.
“Nothing to say,” I mumbled. “You’re leaving for the year.”
He grabbed my shoulders before I could jump on my bike. “I’ll come home next weekend. We can hang out then. You know this.”
“It’s not the same as before you left,” I said, folding my arms tight. “You get to go to your fancy school, and I have to start at Lincoln Middle tomorrow all by myself. The first day of seventh grade, Elijah. And you won’t be there.”
He fidgeted with his furred collar. “You know I don’t have a choice,” he whispered. “I gotta go, no matter if I want to or not. I can’t control everything.”
“Your parents do practically anything you ask them to. I’m sure you could convince them to let you go to Lincoln. I need you. Without you there, there’s no one to talk to.”
Elijah shifted from foot to foot, his gaze leaving mine. “If only it were that easy. There are things I need to do at school. I feel like it’s too far gone now . . .”
“Too far gone?” I said, scrunching my eyebrows. “What the heck does that mean?”
“Nothing. You wouldn’t understand, Jaden.”
“Try me,” I said.
“Just admit it. You’d rather be at your fancy school than with me, wouldn’t you?”
He grew silent as he rubbed his neck, the tension so thick that it almost choked me. “You know that’s not true, Jaden.”
“Whatever.”
His face grew angry now, and a coldness trickled through my hoodie, causing me to shiver, although the temperature was high. “Shouldn’t you be going home?” he said, gesturing toward my bike.
I unfolded my arms and pushed his shoulders. Shock filtered through his expression. “I’ll leave when you answer my questions.”
Steel seeped through his tone. “Go. Home. Jaden.”
We stood in silence for a while, the space between us so cold that I could almost see frost leaving my mouth as I breathed. When he didn’t say anything else, I got on my bike, opened the gate, and cycled away without even saying goodbye.
I sent one more look his way and could just make out him bowing his head, his shoulders moving up and down as he cried.
CHAPTER TWO
Five days later, on Friday night, Daddy breezed into our house, briefcase in hand and tie askew. Mama, Austin, and I sat at the dining room table, eating salmon, jasmine rice, and broccoli.
“Shandra, good evening, my love,” Daddy said playfully as he dropped his briefcase on the couch before going into the half bath near the kitchen to wash his hands. He worked as a trial lawyer at some big firm I couldn’t remember the name of and was constantly late to dinner.
“Darius, good evening,” Mama said, laughing loudly. She worked as a nurse, but her shifts started late at night most days. She watched me pushing pieces of my salmon around on my plate, impatient to get to Elijah’s house. He should have been home from Hamilton by now. We’d texted each other apologies earlier that week, but I was still eager to see him and clear the air.
My brother, Austin, sat near Mama, stuffing his face full of fish and broccoli at the same time. A true disgrace. He was two years younger than me, but he acted like he was five instead of ten.
“Jaden, you’re not hungry?” Mama asked me.
“He wants to go see Elijah,” Austin said as he continued to stuff his face. Daddy took his seat at the farthest end of the table, uncovering the plate Mama had made for him.
“Close your mouth while you eat,” I snapped.
“Speak nicely to your brother,” she said. I stuck my tongue out at Austin when she wasn’t looking. He grabbed his fork and jabbed it at me in a stabbing motion, a smile wrapping his face.
“May I be excused?” I asked.
“Not until you finish,” Dad said.
I grumbled underneath my breath, but complied.
“Elijah’s not going anywhere,” Mama said. “Plus, you shouldn’t be hanging around him so much anyway.” I looked up long enough to see her glance at Dad. “You should be focusing on making friends who actually go to your school.”
“Mooommmm,” I whined while Austin snickered. “You already said I could spend the weekend with Elijah. He’s going back to Hamilton on Sunday night.”
Mama rolled her eyes and picked up the ever-present newspaper next to her plate, opening it to a random page. “Yes, I know what I said because—”
“I was there when I said it.” Austin finished her favorite saying for her, his glasses fogging up as he laughed.
“Anyway,” Daddy said, changing subjects. “How was your first week of middle school?”
“It was fine, I guess,” I grumbled, pushing the broccoli around my plate with my fork. School was the same as ever. I was always okay at everything but never good. Solidly middle of the pack. Not like Elijah, who got all As and started on all the sports teams.
“What about tutoring?” Mama said, which made me stiffen. “I emailed your principal requesting that you be paired with an eighth grader who could help you in math. I wasn’t impressed with your grades last year.”
“Tutoring is fine,” I said. “I met with Jake the other day for help.”
“And you don’t have any homework for the weekend?” Dad asked, his left eyebrow arching.
“No,” I lied, crossing my index and middle finger underneath the table. “I’m all done.” Who cared if I had homework or not? Plus, Elijah would help me if I asked him to—he was good at everything.
Mama narrowed her eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“I swear I’m done with everything. It’s the first week of classes anyway, so the teachers won’t give us too much to do until probably next week.” I put on my best puppy dog face, and Mama’s softened. “I promise. I got this.”
“Okay,” she sighed, returning her attention to her newspaper. “You’re excused.”
I raced to my room before she could change her mind, running up the multiple flights of stairs and throwing open my door.
As I grabbed my sleeping bag from my closet, I couldn’t help but wish Mama and Daddy weren’t always so overprotective of me. I couldn’t do anything fun without them always hounding me about homework, school, and chores. I wished they would just trust me a little bit more.
I took out my phone and sent a hurried text message to Elijah as I opened my backpack. Dinner done. I’ll be rushing to your house ASAP.
I threw open my dresser, and tossed multiple T-shirts, shorts, and a light jacket inside, then ran into my bathroom to grab my toothbrush, shampoo, and body wash. Elijah always clowned me on the number of things I would bring, but I wanted to be prepared for anything.
“Did you have to bring your entire house?” he’d joke.
“You never know what you’ll need,” I’d always respond.
My phone hadn’t vibrated yet. Elijah should have hit me back by now. Hmm, that’s weird. I strolled back into my room, stuffing textbooks and notebooks inside my backpack. Maybe I would ask Elijah to help me with my homework.
The sound of clinking dishes from the kitchen and Austin blasting cartoons from the living room greeted me as I snuck down the stairs, holding my sleeping bag and backpack in a vise grip. Soft laughter reached me, a mixture of Dad and Mama’s as they cleaned dishes together, and Austin’s as he watched his favorite show. I checked my phone again—still nothing from Elijah. I sent off another hurried text before going to the basement and opening the door that led to the backyard.
Coming now. It’s the weekend!!!!
I unchained my bike and began the short trek to Elijah’s house, my mind filled with ideas for what we could do together. Unlike my parents, Elijah’s were rarely home. They didn’t do long, drawn-out dinners like my family did. Elijah would just take his plate and eat in his room, or his parents would leave food for him when they had to work late. At my house, at least one parent was always present. Probably why I couldn’t get away with anything.
My parents had asked me why Elijah almost never came over to our house, but why would I want that? At Elijah’s house, we could stay up late, watch bad television, and eat as much candy as we wanted without my parents intruding.
My phone rang as I was cycling.
“Yes, Dad,” I said.
“Did you make it to Elijah’s okay?” he asked.
“I’m just around the corner. I’m not a baby,” I whined.
“I’m just checking in,” he said. “Make sure you call us when you get there; then call us tomorrow morning and Sunday, too. You got me, kiddo?”
“I gotcha.”
He hung up as I was turning the corner onto Elijah’s street and pulling into his front yard. Strangely, every light was off in his house, no brightness peeking through the blinds, in stark contrast to the other well-lit houses on the block. I clutched my hoodie close as a coldness seeped through it, a reminder that the end of summer came quickly to DC.
I climbed the flight of steps to the front door and rang the doorbell. I scrolled through my text messages while I waited, hoping to see something from Elijah, but there was nothing. I opened Instagram and navigated to Elijah’s page to see if he had posted. The last photo was of us, posted a week ago, right before he was scheduled to go back to Hamilton. Frowning, I pressed the doorbell again and waited for five more minutes. No one answered. A couple walking their dog passed by, and I began to feel a bit ridiculous standing alone outside.
