The Spatial Shard
Chapter Two: Definite Possibilities

She stood on the beach and looked out into the tumultuous sea that beckoned her. The long, thick towel she kept draped around her could no longer keep her warm, but she did not feel the cold. The dreary gray sky never looked so exciting before, but she had to contain herself. This was not about smiling and shining at the water; that was the stuff of posers. She had to find her center because the ankle snappers were done; the wind and the rain were bringing in the big waves now. There was no need to check her steamer a third time; the wetsuit was in place and fully zipped up, fitting close around her slender frame. A flick of her head and her long blonde hair, which she regularly dyed black, was out of her face. Her blue eyes locked on the forming waves and suddenly there was a slight upward curve to her lips.

“It’s time!”

“You having that Bodhi dream again, Genie? Oh baby, you just wait!” There was no mistaking the soft female voice that had called out to her. “You think he had a ride in Pointe Break?” Imogene sat up quickly and looked in every corner of the room.

“Mom?!” she whispered, half believing she would get a response. But no one was in her room, especially her mother. She had not been in Imogene’s room for two years now, and that memory was enough to give the young girl pause. Her chin sank to her chest and she closed her eyes, remembering the sight of the slender woman, topped with a golden crown of sun-bleached blonde hair. She too had crystal blue eyes, but in those eyes Imogene Amanda Schultz had found a different ocean to surf; one where there were no wipeouts and she was the biggest of Big Kahunas. That afternoon had been one of the last they would share, just the two of them, as mother taught daughter how to surf. It was not all they had done at the beach, but it definitely ranked as their mutually favorite pastime.

“But the rest of it you have got to bring yourself, Genie,” she had said. “I can teach you how, but you’ve got to find the why in your mind and heart.”

“What if I can’t find it, Mom?”

“First of all, don’t make it hard and it won’t be hard. And if you don’t find it,” her mother had shrugged as they sat on their boards, waiting their turn to ride the waves. “…there’s no real loss. You’ll be good, because you pick up on details like your father. But without the passion, you’ll never become part of the ride and it will never become part of you. We’re such itty-bitty things in this world, Genie. But if you ask me, we have the tools to bridge with things that are bigger than us, greater than us, and take a ride or two.”

“Genie, I could use a hand out here!” her father called to her even though she could still see her mother sitting on her board. She smiled at her daughter as her head leaned over to the side.

“Bummer! Maybe next time, Genie.” She took hold of her daughter’s board, tipped it over, and Imogene fell into the water. She jumped as she opened her eyes. Her Dad was at the door of her room and knocking.

“Genie!”

“I’m up, Dad,” she said as she put her feet on the floor. “Be out in a sec.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“No problemo,” she whispered as she stood up and moved her hands through her hair. She gasped and quickly grabbed at the cool, wet sensation she felt in her left hand. She drew focus on it, but could not believe what she was seeing: wet hair!

“You see, this is what you get when you get off your meds,” Imogene said softly, wringing the wet section of hair. Collecting a few drops, she quickly put them to her tongue and closed her eyes again. She needed to steady herself. “So explain the salty taste, Genie!

“You can’t, can you?” she asked herself. “You take those pills, you can’t see her and you definitely can’t hear her. I don’t care what the shrinks say. I’ve got sea water in my hair and I’m only about a thousand miles from a beach! This is freakin’ weird!” The sound of breaking glass distracted her and Imogene quickly ran to the door of her room. “Okay, station break on the weird.”

“I don’t drink orange juice!” a familiar shriek reached her ears as she opened the door. There they stood, face to face; the irresistible force and immovable object of the Schultz bloodline. War had been declared yet again. Imogene knew her father, Timothy, did not have time for another parental occupation and Gordon, her little brother, was not about to run up the white flag while he still had an ounce of petulance in him. “I never drink orange juice.”

“Oh, give me a break, Gordon!” her Dad said in frustration, his brown eyes glaring down into his son’s angry sky-blue stare.

“You want it here?!” Gordon said as he kicked his father in the shin. It was a swift foot and it made Timothy hop on one leg with the amount of pain it delivered.

“Bull’s-eye!” Imogene whispered as she ran toward the front lines. She jumped between father and son and faced her Dad.

“Hey, Dad,” she said in a calm voice as she kissed him on the cheek and hugged him tightly about the shoulders. “Mornin’, hope you slept well. Wow, you smell good this A.M.!

“Okay, it’s Wednesday,” she said in a matter-of fact manner. “Which means you need to get to the site, pronto, Mister. The moneybags are coming in for that big lunch meeting to see what you’ve done and decide if they are going to continue funding the restorations. Time for you to go and be the magic man; the architect-historian that can’t be touched with a 10-foot slide rule!”

Timothy stopped and smiled at another war he was not going to win. Looking into Imogene’s face was like looking into a time machine. Even with her dyed hair, his daughter looked just like her mother, and Imogene reminded him of the times he and his wife had spent in high school. They had hated each other with a passion that was eventually understood. Tim Schultz put his hand on his daughter’s face.

“No way I deserve you,” he said with a smile, and she could tell he was fighting back tears.

“Duh!” Imogene barked as she pushed on his chest and then turned him around. “We are so into old news here! Now just get your shoulder-bag, your Indy belt, your not-so-Indy hat, and your lunch,” she said as she handed him each item. The last was something of a surprise, as he had not seen her make it last night. Then again, he had been into his charts most of the evening; a truck could have made his lunch and he might have missed it. He leaned back against her pushing him as he limped toward the front door.

“I’ll be in-”

“Late!” Imogene finished as she pushed harder. This was one of the moments she actually enjoyed with her father. “So on top of it. I’ve got dinner planned and I’ll be taking the little monster out and about to make sure he’s good and tired tonight.”

“You need any money?” Timothy asked, trying his best to keep down his laughter. The pushing stopped and Imogene spun him around again.

“Don’t play. Not a very nice thing to pl-” Timothy handed his daughter a roll of bills and wrapped her fingers around it.

“Two of the investors came in yesterday,” he explained with a smile that reflected a very strong sense of accomplishment. “It was a surprise for me too. Put this with the rest and make sure we are in the black with the bills.”

“We’re already paid through next month, Dad,” she replied. “This is gravy!”

“And who likes gravy?” he said, kissing his daughter on the forehead. “Take you and your brother shopping.”

“I don’t want to go shopping!” Gordon screamed and Imogene rolled her eyes.

“Ignore the wailings of an ignorant child,” Imogene quickly inserted. “He has yet to realize how hard it is to go skating without serious inline skates.”

“Skating?!” Gordon gasped. Timothy shook his head at the ease with which his daughter controlled his son.

“Well, I’ve got to go. I love you both.”

“And we love you, Dad,” Imogene said, flashing a bright smile so that her Dad did not see the hand gesture she made behind her back before flashing the roll of cash. Gordon would be quiet, at least until their Dad was in the jeep and driving down the road.

“Are we really going skating?” Gordon asked as he came out of his room with his shoes on.

“Depends on how well you clean up that mess you made,” Imogene answered, getting out the necessary ingredients for breakfast. “You up for cheesy eggs?” The cheer that erupted from behind her made Imogene smile. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Can I have some sausages too?”

“Is that how we ask?” she inquired, still making preparations for the cooking.

“May I please have some sausages?”

“Oh, Bull’s-eye, Gordo. I feel some syrup-dipped smoked sausages comin’ on!” Gordon’s cheers became the customary happy dance the two of them shared. There was no music to set the tempo, but brother and sister cast caution to the wind and spun around the house in celebration of Gordon’s happiness.

“Thought you didn’t drink orange juice,” Imogene said as she sat in her chair with her laptop computer, answering her emails. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Gordon suddenly stop, his eyes switching back between his sister and the empty glass that had once held orange juice. “You’re twelve now and it’s going on two years, Gordo. When are you going to give Dad a break?

“And throw a tantrum on me, buster,” she warned as she closed her laptop. “You might live to regret it. Chances are good… slim, but good.”

Gordon smiled up at his sister. “Mom used to say that,” he said as he looked down, his smile fading. Imogene did not waste a moment of time. She put her computer down and pulled her little brother into an embrace; a feat that was becoming progressively more difficult. She hugged him but not as tightly as he hugged her.

“I miss her too, bruh,” she whispered as she could feel his tears on her shoulder. “They don’t make ’em like Eleanor Schultz too often. The world would not know what to do with that much wonder in it.

“And it’s not Dad’s fault,” she said as they parted. Imogene quickly put her hand over her brother’s mouth, knowing his retort was coming. “It isn’t! She never told Dad she was sick. None of us knew.”

“Why didn’t she tell us?”

“Dude, let me get a couple of PhDs under my belt before I get into that one!” she pleaded. “All I know is that when the sun needed lessons on how to shine, it texted Mom.”

“There you go again, getting geeky,” Gordon chuckled as he went back into his embrace.

“And don’t you forget it,” she added, rubbing her brother’s back. “You don’t want me to release my inner geek. You’d drown in coefficients and postulates.”

“What?”

“Exactly!” she said, pushing her brother back enough to look in his eyes. She beamed a bright smile at him and brushed back his long blonde hair. “Now how about you clean up the kitchen and get ready to go out? We are in need of skates.” Gordon cheered as he ran off to clean the kitchen as Imogene looked at the roll of bills. She opened up the roll and started making a quick count. There were no singles in the roll and it was all in US Dollars which meant she had to get it changed into boliviano.

“At least!” she whispered as she reached 1,000 with over half of the roll left to count.

The park was peaceful even if it was not quiet. After a few moments of exposure, Imogene could tune out the noise of the younger kids playing. Gordon had had his fill of skating and was now playing soccer with a couple of the neighborhood kids. He was doing his level best to change their opinion of American athletes.

Imogene was engrossed in a letter she had received from her friend, Sharon, back home.

Genie,

You don’t know how much you’re missed, Genie. There are some things home-schooling just can’t replace and his name is Cullen. Aaaaarrrrrrggggghhh, God is he hot! And not like that Gossip Girl wannabe hotness. He is so not processed and really cute! And this is really going to pop your kernels… he’s a surfer! I managed to sneak this shot of him in the cafeteria (okay there are some REALLY big differences to home schooling – you don’t have to eat this junk anymore). I hope it comes out clear.

And after ten years of doing the do, the old man has kicked me out… out of his hand-to-hand classes! That’s right, Genie, yours truly is now going one-on-one with a real dojo-master and you know it’s been a minute since I’ve been man-handled. I had to reset my brain quick, fast and in a hurry! And yes, I’m still Rambo-ing it up whenever I can. It just seems to be getting harder to make schedules meet as I get older. God, am I outgrowing my old man??? Eeek!

So, is Gordo driving you completely mad? Don’t let him. We both know why he’s still acting up and you’re geek enough to head him off at the pass. Hope to see you soon, the waves are calling your name and soccer practice sucks without you. And here I thought you just stood around all day – GOALIE!!! But you really did a lot for the team… like keeping us from losing! Can you believe we are 3 and 5 already?! Glad this is just the Autumn League.

Everyone is trying to walk around like they never knew you but you know me, I don’t play those kinds of games. I cried when you left and if you catch me too long at my locker, looking at our picture, I’ll wipe another tear. It just means that what happened is still very near and dear to me. No fears with that, right? Wayne is trying to take your place as resident mastermind. His dad is spending a big chunk of that settlement money of theirs to get Wayne back into mainstream public school. He’s got the Braille equivalent of our books and he’s still in the top five of each class. He says what you gave him before you left is his inspiration… but he won’t go into any details. Color me so curious!!! But I won’t jump to any assumptions… at least not any more assumptions until you get back and talk to me face-to-face. Don’t forget to snatch me a rock or something from your Dad’s site. Never been to Bolivia and not likely I’ll get a chance to motor down that way. Watch your left side, GOALIE!

Sharon

Imogene smiled as she looked at the letter and re-read it two more times before she started typing a response. She had just clicked send when an irregular sound reached her ears. She looked up to see Gordon on his back, holding his face in pain. Over him stood three boys who were Imogene’s age, if not older, one with his fists clenched. Imogene stuffed the laptop into her shoulder bag and ran towards her brother.

“Hey!” she yelled and all three boys looked up. “What’s going on here?”

“I told them I didn’t want to fight, Genie,” Gordon said as he sat up, glaring at the largest of the three boys.

“And?” Imogene asked as she looked at the boys. Her barking voice had caused them to stop, but she could tell they were a heartbeat from starting up again.

“Not sure diplomacy is going to work here,” she thought. “But I need to make sure little bruh is on board.”

“And he hit me anyway,” Gordon answered and Imogene could feel the frustration in his voice. Gordon was famous for throwing tantrums with Dad, but outside of that he was too nice of a kid. He would never throw the first punch and he rarely threw the second.

“You got something you want to say, Gordo?” It was clear that the three boys were not used to working in conjunction with each other, not in the fashion the Schultz kids were. Either that or they simply did not speak English. Their loss! But Gordon knew his sister was not talking about any verbal interaction.

“I can’t take all three of them,” her little brother concluded.

“You let me worry about the other two,” Imogene said as she let her shoulder bag slide down her arm and placed it on the ground at her feet. She stepped away from it and pointed at the other two boys, beckoning them to take her on. They looked at each other and then to their ringleader who looked Imogene over and dismissed her. He waved to give the two of them permission to do what they wanted. They walked toward Imogene who took one step back and to her left. She came forward with a spinning outside crescent kick, striking both boys in the face.

“Macaco!” Imogene yelled as she could see the boy moving to attack her brother even though he was still on the ground. Following her directions, Gordon, who already had his right hand behind him, stretched his left hand forward between his knees and then threw his left hand up and over his shoulder; his feet pushing to make his body follow his arm and he barely avoided the boy’s kick. “Skip the ginga,” she continued before squinting her eyes. “Armada!” she yelled and Gordon connected with the same spin kick she had used. But Gordon was faster with his attack, which meant it was more powerful, and the boy spun as he fell to the ground.

“I got it!” Gordon said as he went into his ginga. “Watch your six!”

“He lives for this stuff!” Imogene thought as she decided not to look to see the reason for her brother’s warning. “He’s spent too much time with the Thaxtons.”

Imogene threw her body into a cartwheel to her right. She could feel a sudden breeze come and just as quickly disperse. The scuffling sounds and grunting told her someone was swinging for the fences, but they had missed. When she came to the end of her cartwheel she could see another boy had entered the conflict, making a grand total of four.

“Relogio and run!” Gordon shouted; both brother and sister lunged toward their opponents. They fell forward into one-handed hand stands with the elbows of their support hands tucked against their ribs. Their legs swept the legs of the boys they were fighting, sending them all to the ground. Both of them completed a full circle’s rotation and were within a meter of kicking each other, but they knew their distances and knew what was too close to be of any assistance in a fight. Once again Gordon was faster and was up and running for his skates. Imogene grabbed her shoulder bag and the two of them ran for the house. Gordon was in the lead, and in all fairness Imogene preferred it that way. She could keep an eye on him that way. But their normal route home was already blocked by bystanders. Gordon was not going to chance whether he could get by them before the boys could get up. Eleanor had taught her children Capoeira and she had taught them well, but she also taught them to use it as a last resort. A good run was always better than a bad stand. Gordon did not like the running part, but he did not want to see his sister getting hurt. He would not have forgiven himself if she had been hurt on his watch. So running was the best option for the moment, though he hoped deep down that the bullies would somehow fence them in and force them to fight. He knew he had both shocked and stunned his opponent. Another two strikes and he would be assured of a victory. But now his feet were being used to run as fast as he could. He knew Imogene could keep up. For a geek, she was not a bad fighter and very fast, for a girl!

“Uh, Gordo, where are we going?”

“Away!” Gordon answered as he took another new path. He looked up and found the church steeple. He could not see the clock which meant they were not on the north side and were basically running away from the house.

“I need to make a couple of more turns,” he thought as he found another side street.

“Follow me, Genie!” he exclaimed as he took a sharp turn down a very slender alley.

“Trying my best, sport!” Imogene thought as she slipped and almost fell trying to match her little brother’s agility. While she could best him on a surfboard, she was so owned in a footrace. Were it not for the fact that she could hear the boys giving chase, she might have smiled in pride at watching her little brother run.

“This is going to be hard to explain, Genie,” a voice said to her and Imogene looked to where she heard it coming from. In the reflection of the glass, she could see a female form gliding beside her. She was dressed in yellow flowing strips of fabric that covered her shoulders, torso and legs, but her feet were bare and they passed over the brick and mortar of the alleys.

“Mom?!”

“Welcome to the wave of a lifetime!”

Imogene came a sudden stop, colliding with a man who also seemed to be in mid-chase. Though they were not running in the same direction, they were not in running directly opposing directions, so the impact was not too great. Still, it was enough for both of them to fall and for Seth McEmbree to lose hold of the Shard. It flew up on impact, but it did not go straight up. It climbed at an arc as Seth spilled to the ground. His eyes never left the Shard as it tumbled up and into the wall of the alley. It ricocheted, but not directly at him. He stretched out his hand to catch it… but the Shard’s path was just out of the reach of his desperate fingers and it fell to the alley floor, shattering against the stone.

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