Free The Pantheon by Amy Leigh Strickland

a select few I can’t read.”
    “ Zach?” Minnie asked.
    “ Zach.”
    “ Temp.”
    “ Seventy two degrees.” June sighed, “Zach, Devon, Lewis. Those are the ones I know. Everyone else I can read like an open book. Freaked out Dr. Livingstone Friday.
    “ Ooh, try me!”
    “ Uh... okay. Tell me two things that are true and one that’s false.”
    “ Okay, um. I have never met my mother. I wanted to join the army when I was a kid. I have a pet tarantula.”
    June watched her for a moment, “You didn’t want to join the army.”
    “ No, I did.” She really wanted to for the longest time. Of course she’d always planned to aim missiles, not run over a sand dune with a gun.
    “ Okay then, the mom thing.”
    “ Nope, never met her.” Her mother had hemorrhaged and bled out in childbirth. Minnie was totally a daddy’s girl. Her father spoiled her terribly.
    “ Really?” June wrinkled her nose. “I could definitely see you with a tarantula.”
    “ Ew, no! I hate spiders.” Minnie had forgotten the stop watch. “Oh! Temperature!”
    “ Right, eighty-eight degrees.” June marked the chart again. It was still climbing fast.
    “ So you can’t read me?” That was good to know.
    “ Apparently not. Congratulations, you’re now one of four out of, like, a hundred people I’ve tested.”
    Celene was lost in thought by now, trying to remember her undergrad psychology course and what they’d learned about human memory. Surely Minnie was exaggerating when she said she had a perfect memory. That wasn’t possible. But then the other week... Penny and that plant... No. That wasn’t possible either.
    “ We’re done.” Celene looked up, startled. June stood over her with a lab worksheet in hand. “Thanks for letting me redo it. It was really easy. I think I was just preoccupied that day.”
    “ Alright. No more do-overs. Pay attention in class.”
    “ I will. I promise.” June darted for the door, off to football practice to supervise Devon and Zach.
    “ Miranda--” Celene began.
    Minnie was almost out the door behind June. She stopped by grabbing the doorframe and swung back into the room. She hung from her arm as she spoke. “Yes, Dr. Davis?”
    What was she planning to ask? She’d be carted off in a straight jacket if she started asking her students about extra-human abilities. “Thank you.”
    “ No problem,” Minnie said. She stood there for a moment, feeling awkward. She should have left right away, but now the pause was too long and she had to make small talk. “That yellow plant on your desk was really sorry-looking this afternoon. Did you use some fertilizer or something?”
    “ Oh, no,” she lied, “I threw that one away. This one came from the lab table back there.
    “ Oh.” Minnie frowned. “Okay then. See you tomorrow.”
    Celene would have to be more careful about what plants she revived. Someone else was bound to notice.

“ Must not all things at last be swallowed up in death?”
    -Plato

    vii.

    Two boys scrambled up a tree in a close race.
    An enticing vine of violet grapes dangled
    beyond their hands, out of their reach, above them.
    It was a great game.

    The younger boy was ahead of the other.
    He glanced back at his friend with a cocky smile.
    He was inches from the prize and gaining speed
    until his foot slipped.

    He fell back with his arm extended, reaching,
    Time slowing in his mind as he floated down.
    The older boy climbed half-way down the wrapped tree,
    then jumped to the ground.

    The younger boy lay with his body broken.
    The twinkle of life in his eyes had gone out.
    The older boy wept ‘til he could taste his tears.
    Slowly, salt beads dripped.

    A single tear splashed on the dusty gray ground
    And one more just as clear on the dead boy’s face,
    before the tear changed to a deep blood red hue.
    Wine on a white cheek.

“ A bad beginning makes a bad ending.”
    -Euripides

    VII.

    Every year Olympia Heights had a Halloween Carnival to raise money for the