Everly

Everly thought no one was watching when she woke the mouse.

It was during first recess and all the other kindergarteners were busy climbing on the play structure or happily kicking a ball around. 

Everly had walked away from the playground area and was sitting in the slightly overgrown grass that was still wet with morning dew.  She had positioned herself right next to the fence that separated the school yard from the woods and was listening to see if she would hear the voices again.

 She had first heard the voices a few days ago and each day she had come back to listen intently although she could not quite make out what they were saying. Today, this was where she found the mouse. It was lying just inside the fence with its vacant eyes wide open as if it were very surprised. Its body was limp and still when she held it in her hands. 

The teacher, Jessica MacVey, had been watching Everly make her way over to the fence recess after recess for days now and had been trying to think of a way to encourage her to join in with the others for playtime. While Everly had always been a quiet and introverted child this behavior was new, and Miss MacVey was concerned that maybe the passing of Everly’s grandmother a few weeks ago was taking an emotional toll on the young girl.

When she saw Everly lean forward to pick up what appeared to be the limp body of a small animal, the alarmed teacher hurried toward her student. As she got closer, she could clearly see it was the lifeless body of a field mouse that the child had cupped gently in her hands. The teacher was startled to a halt when suddenly the little mouse twitched violently, as if it had suffered an electrical shock. Hardly a second later Everly opened her tiny palm, and a very much alive mouse leapt away into the tall grass.

The teacher stayed frozen in place for a few moments trying to wrap her head around what she had just seen. She watched as the little girl rose to her feet and peered with intense blue eyes into the woods beyond the fence. Everly’s light brown curls blew gently around her heart-shaped face, and she tilted her head as if she were listening to something.

The teacher decided she would approach the child calmly, pretending for the moment that she had not seen what had just transpired “Hi, Everly. What are you doing over here by yourself?”

Everly turned her head toward her teacher. Miss MacVey was looking down at her with kind, but curious eyes.

Everly liked her nice and pretty teacher. She wondered what Miss MacVey would think if she were to confide in her about the mouse.

Thinking it better to keep it to herself for the time being, Everly replied, “Hi, Miss MacVey. I’m just looking at the trees.”

Miss MacVey held out her hand. “Let’s head back. It’s almost time to return to class.”

 Everly took her teacher’s hand as requested and they walked together toward the red brick building that was her school.  She glanced back once or twice at the tall grass into which the mouse had disappeared. The voices behind her faded to whispers that were soon drowned out by the sounds of her classmates playing.

Sitting at home that evening Jessica MacVey was sipping a glass of red wine to calm her nerves. She had the fireplace lit and her loyal gray cat was sitting in her lap. Absent mindedly she stroked the cat’s soft fur while replaying the event in her head.

Was it possible the mouse had been alive all along? Perhaps it was just stunned or frightened that the girl had picked it up. Deep down, Jessica knew. She knew what she had seen because she had seen it before. 

It was the summer of 1990. She and her younger sister, Rachel, had been exploring down by the river near their home. Her four-year-old sister, always so sensitive, had begun crying when she found the dead frog. The tiny girl had picked the frog up and held it gently in her hands while tears rolled down her round, pink cheeks.

 Jessica had been thoroughly appalled by the carcass and desperately wanted her sister to put the thing down. Her anxious feelings grew stronger as she watched in disbelief while the frog’s body twitched inside her sister’s cupped hands. Moments later it had jumped down to the muddy shore and was staring right at Jessica with yellow eyes that were very much alive. Alive but not quite right. 

In a panic Jessica told her mother what had happened. She had expected that Mom would not believe her but instead their mother looked fearful and had reprimanded Rachel harshly forbidding her from doing it ever again. Rachel obeyed and after a few years seemed to have forgotten her ability even existed.

Jessica was not sure how to talk to Everly about what had happened, but she had a feeling she could not ignore it forever.

The rest of the week went by with no major incidents involving Everly. The little girl even stayed closer to the playground at recess but occasionally, Miss MacVey would catch a glimpse of Everly with her head tilted as if she were listening to someone speak.

The following Monday started off normally enough. The children had settled into their desks and after a few moments they had begun to quiet down. This was when Miss MacVey noticed Everly talking to someone. She was not simply talking to herself. The Girl was staring straight ahead and talking to someone that only she could see. “Okay. Yes.”, Everly said clearly.

Miss MacVey approached the child cautiously and gently placed her hand on her arm. “Everly, who are you speaking to?”

 Everly spun around to face her teacher, looking surprised to find the woman there. “Nobody.” She replied and quickly changed the subject. Miss MacVey knew she had to do something.

The next day Miss MacVey pulled Everly aside during recess. “Everly. You’re not in trouble but I would like to read you this book I found that I thought you might find interesting.”

The teacher watched for her student’s reaction as she began to read to her about special abilities and controlling one’s powers. Everly looked on with intense interest. 

Miss MacVey had concluded that Everly had perhaps several special abilities and while Miss MacVey could not prevent the child from using them, she hoped she could help Everly to understand and control them. Miss MacVey’s logical side told her she should have gone to Everly’s parents, but she could not see an outcome that did not involve her losing her job and/or being labeled as crazy. In the end she decided the best option was for her to help the child by educating her.

For the remainder of the week, Miss MacVey read to Everly at recess, always careful not to be overheard by the other staff or children. She hoped she was doing enough. 

The school week had ended, and it was late Saturday evening, just before midnight. Everly was sitting up in bed wrapped tightly in her favorite blanket with her eyes squeezed shut trying to ignore the sound outside her window. She had done what the voices asked. They were quiet now. 

This sound was something else. The sound of her grandmother’s long, thin fingers scratching at the window. Demanding to be let in. Everly began to shake with terror.

 Thanks to Miss MacVey, Everly had gotten very good at controlling her abilities.

 Unfortunately, she was beginning to think she had made a big mistake by following the voices through the woods and into the cemetery. She should have ignored them when they told her what to do there. Everly pulled the blanket over her head as the scratching continued against the glass of her bedroom window. She did not want to look.

The scratching grew louder, faster, and finally Everly screamed