Free Jack James and the Tribe of the Teddy Bear by J. Joseph Wright

on and on about how my mistake was going to further revolutionize his invention. I was more focused on the people. I wondered what they were thinking. What kind of stories were going to emerge when they all filtered back to the community?
    It didn’t take long to get my answer. The court of public opinion came down hard. Not only did Dad lose his job, he was also under investigation by the police. They confiscated his machine and examined it, but couldn’t figure out how it worked, so they gave it back and no charges were filed. Still, he was all over the papers and the news, even popped up on YouTube. It was ugly.
    And it got even uglier. A little later, Mom went ballistic when she found Dad rebuilding the O/A in the garage. She accused him of putting us kids in danger, saying he might have killed us, and she wasn’t going to give him the chance. She threatened to take us and leave right then and there, so Dad volunteered to move out. Before he left, he promised to pay for the family’s expenses. But since he was a marked man, nobody would give him even a minimum wage job. Mom got work at Winmart. That doesn’t pay enough, so the house went into foreclosure and here we are, at glamorous Tangled Trail Estates.
    That was over seven months ago. I see my dad sometimes. Not enough. He’s determined more than ever to make his invention work.
    That’s the end…for now.”
     
    AMELIA SAT ATTENTIVE and alert the whole time Jack spoke of his father. Despite her civility, he began to question the sanity of anyone who would still be in the same room with him after hearing such a wild story.
    Of course, he was glad she didn’t run for the hills. And actually listening to him without so much as breaking into a giggle? A development of galactic proportions. It was nothing, though, compared to what she did next.
    “Let me try something,” she grabbed his right wrist without waiting for permission. “I gotta see if I’m right.”
    “Right about what?”
    “Hold on,” she flipped his hand over, examining every finger, every crease.
    “What? Are you going to read my palm?” he snickered.
    “Shhh!” she glared at him, then placed an open palm over his while cupping her other hand on the feather dangling from her necklace.
    “What’s with the feather?” he tried again not to laugh.
    She said nothing. Her stare widened. She jerked away, inhaling deep and trembling as if she felt an icy touch down her back. Then she let out her breath, her expression of worry replaced by one of confidence. “I knew it!”
    “What? You knew what?”
    “Your spirit clothes.”
    “My spirit clothes?”
    “Yeah, your aura. Off the charts, man.”
    “What does that mean?” Jack was skeptical, yet intrigued.

    “It means exactly what my intuition has been telling me. You’re destined for big things, Jack. Your life will be defined by huge, wonderful, exciting, maybe even historic events. What will happen, when it happens, I can’t tell. One thing I do know, if you follow where fate takes you, it’s gonna be one uncanny ride.”

 
     
    SEVEN
     
     
    THE VOICES SOUNDED faint at first. Gentle, lapping waves. Steadily, though, they became more and more distinct, like some enigmatic code being deciphered in his subconscious.
    “I tell you, he’s drunk!”
    “For the last time, he’s not drunk! He had one of these.”
    “An energy drink? One energy drink and he passed out?”
    “What a lightweight.”
    “He must be allergic to caffeine or something.”
    “Haha! He’s a wimp!”
    “Now, Pud. You know how you get with garlic.”
    An explosive burst of flatulence, followed by a guttural belch and finally a sheepish, “‘Scuze me.”
    “Pud!” three voices broke out in unanimous disapproval—three hauntingly familiar voices.
    Were they Tanakee? It had to be a dream. He was on the supermarket floor, conjuring it all up unconsciously. Still, it sure did seem awfully real. Even started to smell real. The unmistakable scent of his