Free Kesh by Ralph L Wahlstrom Page A

to the front of the room where Mister Johnson still had his nose buried in his magazine, oblivious to the chaotic zoo around him. Before long, the classroom was populated by monkeys, rats, snakes, great wheezing fish and, of course, a badger with serious attitude. Kesh scanned the room for some sign or recognition, but the other kids in the room clearly did not know he could see their animal spirits. And a couple of kids hadn’t changed at all; they were still just kids.
    Marty Anderson was obediently filling in Mr. Johnson’s worksheet and picking his nose. Nothing had changed there. But the chaos scared Kesh. He felt his chest tighten and his stomach began to hurt. He wanted desperately to run out of the room, and to get home where he could hide from the chaos and confusion, but he remembered the confident strength of the wolf, the fearless conviction of Muskrat, and the quiet power and selfless sacrifice of Grandmother Spider, and he fought off the panic.
    He took a deep, calming breath to regain his composure and locked eyes with the girl across the room. He knew her name was Kiran Curtis, but he had never actually talked to her. She never really said much. She was just kind of there. For now, he noticed she was not behaving like the others. She was still Kiran, but she appeared completely aware of what was going on around her, at least it seemed so to Kesh. Her eyes were taking in the whole chaotic scene as if she were studying her classmates and calmly calculating what it all meant. Her eyes met his and for the tiniest fraction of a second, he imagined he saw a quick smile.
    Then, suddenly, the boy felt a slap to the back of his head, and with a loud pop, the room snapped back, and instantly, he was surrounded by kids again. He swung around to see who had smacked him. It was Karl Johnson, who had moments before been an otter. Like every other animal spirit, the otter seemed just right for Karl, the jokester, and the playful dancer. “Ow! Don’t do that.”
    Kesh sneered at Karl then turned back and looked about the room for some sign of the bizarre children’s zoo, but everything seemed normal. Kids were finishing Mister Johnson’s busy work, and nobody seemed even faintly aware of the insanity that had existed just moments before--almost nobody. Morgan Sikes was working diligently on the last of her fill-ins, as unlike her animal spirit as she could possibly be. Kesh thought, S he seems to be more like a mouse than a lion . Then, Morgan shot him a quick look that hit him like an electric shock to his forehead, and he understood.
    Kesh flipped to the back of his notebook and wrote.
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    Morgan Sikes is not who she seems to be. I have a feeling she’s someone to be reckoned with. I don’t know exactly what she might do, but I’m going to have to look out for her in the future. I never would have figured her for a lion.
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    Even so, he wondered if Morgan or any of the others had any idea of who they were, or could be, deep down inside. Maybe they would never know. And he wondered if any of them had experienced these strange dreams and visions. He was still trying to understand what it meant to be a coyote and, most important of all, what it meant to be chosen by Grandmother Spider…or if any of this was real and made sense at all. Then his eyes settled on Kiran Curtis. She was the same as always, quiet, small, almost insignificant, but even as she completed her quiz, she seemed to be wearing that same subtle smile.
    As the day went on, Kesh kept catching glimpses of the wild creatures here and there. Mickey Milse (he never understood how grownups could be so mean as to give their little boy such a ridiculous name) flicked a serpent’s tongue. It was just an instant, easily missed, but Kesh knew Mickey was definitely not a mouse. The principal, Mrs. Williams-Battle, had all the signs of a jackrabbit: whiskers, big fluffy paws, and gigantic wooly ears.
    There were many