J*A*D*E*(S) – To Blue or Not to Blue
By: Janet Marie
Unlikely Connections
JG Marie
10-23-02
Friendship bonds
Kindred spirits
Eternal souls
Ying and yang
Unlikely passion brims
Endless dance of desire
Stolen glances
Concealed touches
Wanton yearns
Ongoing conversations ‘til the break of dawn
Secret rendezvous for only a moment
Camaraderie beyond definition
Comfort level easy and warm
Laughter abundant and smile everlasting
One moment in time
Seems to last forever
Yet moments never seem to stay
A lifetime to enjoy each other
Just between you and I
j*a*d*e*(s) – wakeup call
The bank of white fog ebbed towards the still darkened home of Jo Wheaton, the sun, a silver sliver pushing through to try and enlighten the world. Inside the house the alarm was ringing. It had been ringing for almost an hour. Jo finally stirred, her shaky hand reached out, almost toppling the glass that had held the scotch the evening before, and she silenced the alarm.
Jo rolled out of bed, late for the third time in as many days. This was unusual for her. She was never late. She had been listless all weekend, and had caught herself sniping at the girls more than once. Her temper was hot – the lack of sleep might have been the ultimate reason, but she knew it wasn’t the only one. May things were on Jo’s mind, namely that her secrets were beginning to bulge and ooze out of her ears. She kept secrets from her friends, from her father, from the world. Why had she been cursed with a genetic quirk of DNA? Jo closed her eyes to the sun that had managed to cut through the fog. She steeled herself for the day that lay before her.
She hastily grabbed her things for school, digging out clothes from a pile in the corner. She had been having trouble sleeping again and it was wreaking havoc on her life. She hoped that the week would be an easy one, not too much excitement. She rushed to the bathroom, hoping that a quick shower would wash the growing cobwebs out of her head.
She hated Mondays.
j*a*d*e*(s) - rearview mirror
Amy looked outside her second story bedroom window and sighed, not knowing what she’d see that was so different from the day before, or the day before that. The fog was beginning to burn off and she could finally see her backyard and her mother’s much loved flowerbed. She needed some excitement in her life. She was getting bored, and getting bored was a dangerous thing. Amy fiddled with her blonde hair, thinking about cutting it. Maybe she could cut it shorter than Jo’s, which wasn’t really possible, since at times she wondered if Jo shouldn’t just shave her head. Amy sighed. It was fruitless. She was bored. No amount of clothes, reading, movies, cutting hair or painting her nails was going to take away that want. The want for excitement, maybe even danger.
It had been hard giving up the constant fun, or rather dangerous fun, but it was better that she had. Her parents were finally letting her go somewhere, other than to Jo’s for the weekend. They only let her stay out late if she was with one of the other girls. They trusted Jo more than they trusted her, which wasn’t much of a surprise; Jo was the trustworthy one. Jo had charmed her parents quite well; sometimes, Amy thought Jo could charm anyone. Emma may have been a constant flirt, but Jo – well, Jo was charming. There was something about Jo that instantly attracted Amy to her; maybe it was Jo’s zest for life or just her easy way.
Amy yearned for a drink, and then she pushed the thought out of her mind. What good was that going to do? She looked at her arms and rubbed them slowly, remembering. The track marks had faded, but she could still make them out. Most people wouldn’t even see them if they looked, but she did. Those memories brimmed at the surface, ready to let her slip into her wicked ways. There was so much more that Amy yearned for, but that too was connected to her life in Florida. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
God help her, she hated Mondays.
j*a*d*e*(s) – frustrations of daybreak
Darci shuffled out of her mother's way. She was running late and was in a foul mood. Darci desperately wanted to ask her mom for the car, but she knew that the answer would be no, since her mom needed the car for work and Jo always drove them to school. “You don’t need separate cars to go to school,” her mother would say with a logical look on her face. She sighed, knowing what the conversation would bring. It made her weary, but she was going to try nevertheless.
She suddenly wished that she was rich and they could afford a second car. Yeah, right, dream on. Right, when hell freezes over and Milli Vanilli has another hit album, dream on, she thought. What was the point of having her license if she couldn’t have the car.
She hated Mondays.
j*a*d*e*(s) - deafening silence
Emma grabbed a pancake from her father's plate and stuffed it into her mouth. He playfully slapped at her outstretched hand, but allowed her to have it. They all ate in silence, as usual: her father with that day's paper, grumbling about him not having the best reporters or being scooped by so and so. He wasn’t a fan of the internet and knew his world of paper was slowly coming to an end. Emma’s mother had the fashion section, making mental notes on what she would be ordering and not ordering and what she would put up on her website this week for sales. Emma was doing last night's homework that hadn’t gotten done, since she hadn’t been home to do it.
Life as usual, at least for now it was a typical Monday morning.
j*a*d*e*(s) - scraping by
Shelby Pryde wiggled into her clothes quickly and as silently as she could because if she woke the step-boyfriend, she’d either get wacked or she’d have to make breakfast. She tied up her dark blonde hair and tucked the ponytail into the hat.
Instead of leaving by the front door, she edged the window up, pushed her backpack out before her and headed off to school. At least that was a minor refuge from the drinking, partying, and full on orgies that sometimes went on in her house. Shelby pushed the window down as silently as she could, hearing the scrap of wood on wood and headed down the fire escape before anyone knew better. She glanced at her watch.
Another brilliant Monday, as much as she hated them, Mondays at least brought escape from the weekend party.
j*a*d*e*(s) - uncle makes five
Jo slowly turned the Mustang around and began to crawl up her long gravel driveway located on the outskirts of the city. The fog still clung to the pond that was behind her, fighting to stay visible as the sun warmed the water. She was on her way to pick up Darci, Emma, and Amy, her three best friends. They all attended Lincoln High, a good school with most of the kids coming from well–to-do families. It was by no means a private school, but it was much like West Beverly and Beverly High on the television show, Beverly Hills, 90210, with high-class doctors' kids, and the like. Most of them had their own cars and cellular phones and pagers, Blackberries and the latest iPods and iPhones, and all the gadgets imaginable. It could also be a vicious place and their foursome worked hard to stay out of any of that bitter battle of High School. It was who was wearing what and who was sleeping with whom that was always the topic of conversation.
It was boring.
It was a predictable atmosphere: the jocks, the beauty queens, geeks, gangster wanna-bes, and brains. Jo and her group of friends were considered to be a blend of backgrounds, and most people knew them by name, even if they didn’t know theirs. That was a scary thought, just her luck – Jo’d be the Tori Spelling of the four.
An old, battered, orange Volkswagen bug turned into her narrow driveway. Jo slowed her car and then came to a complete stop. She sighed. “His timing has to improve someday, right? You can’t always show up at the wrong time, can you, old man?”
She stood up on the seat and sat on the headrest of the convertible, arms crossed. This was something she would never have done if there was anyone else in the car. Jo was always reminding the other girls not to jump into the convertible without opening the doors, therefore ruining the upholstery of the car. She planned to keep it for a while; it was her baby after all. Jo let her mind clear for just a moment – the tug of her blossoming powers seemed to occur at the oddest of moments. It brimmed there, on the periphery of her mind. It tugged, tempted and teased her, how she wanted to see what it could do but she resisted. It was an inviting darkness that she continually pushed away. Instead, she focused on something else.
She rubbed her weary eyes and began to yell, signaling her approaching uncle to move out of the way, since he drove smack dab down the middle of the narrow driveway, even going as far as weaving once in a while. It was as if he was prolonging his time in getting there, delaying her even further.
Jon didn't seem to hear her over the noise of the thundering tailpipe, or he could have been ignoring her. Jo was opting for the latter; it was something he would do. One way or the other, there was no way that she was getting around him. She signaled to him to turn the car off by slashing her hand across her throat, so that she at least could speak to him.
When he finally did turn the engine off, Jo bellowed to him, "Hey Unc, do you mind getting your hunk of junk out of my way. I'm in a rush this morning. I'm late, and you know that I hate being late."
Even though the writer's car was literally falling apart, he refused to get rid of it and buy something that wouldn't threaten to disintegrate when the needle hit fifty-five. He said it had sentimental value. Jo thought that it had no value at all, but she was still young, at least that’s what he told her. Jo sometimes felt ancient, especially after a long night of waking up a number of times at the edge of the abyss of another horrifying dream.
"Now, now, you mind your manners young lady. Don't you go talking about my princess that way." He then began to lovingly stoke the steering wheel of the old car. “But, to show you my unyielding kindness, I shall graciously move out of your way and let you pass." He flashed a toothy smile and started the engine. The tailpipe of the car backfired loudly.
Jo sadly shook her head. Will he ever get rid of that thing? Jo thought.
He nudged his way next to the Mustang and asked over the noise of his car, "Are you happy now, Jo?"
"Yeah, yeah. Now I'll get out of your way, so that you can go on about your business. I’ll give you a call tonight. I promise,” said Jo.
They exchanged a quick look and Jo knew that Jon wanted to talk. To talk about what was happening to her. But Jo wanted to ignore itl she wanted nothing to do with her Kindred destiny. She wanted, needed, to be normal. Fate would have to wait for Jo Wheaton because she wasn’t ready for it.
Jo slid back down into the seat, revved the engine of the car, and darted up the driveway, throwing up gravel in her wake.
The night before, Jon had stopped by after he had heard about their success in finding some items that had been stolen from a neighbor’s home. The girls of J*A*D*E’s did some easy footwork and recovered his television, VCR, DVD player, various cameras, and some jewelry. The neighbor was thankful and had paid them for their trouble. Jon had figured that if they could do such a good job with that case, maybe they could become a real detective agency. He’d given them a long-winded speech on how they could be raking in the money by turning themselves into a detective agency. He had talked and talked; drowning out the movie, while he made some good points along the way. He annoyed and infuriated Darci. Jo knew that there was something else going on. She could see it in Jon’s eyes, that danger, adventure, might well bring forth the inevitable.
Jon had another reason for being there. He had finally told Jo just what she was a few weeks prior: a psi talent. A destiny that she didn’t want and one she didn’t understand. It was riddled with mysteries and twists and Jo wanted nothing to do with it. He’d spoken to her about fate and how she was going to develop a talent, a power, and that wasn’t what Jo wanted. He explained that her friends were just like her but that they were unrealized talents; that all of them were different and they were all going to be powerful. She didn’t want this. Not in this lifetime, or any other. Jo put the thought out of her mind, it didn’t matter now. Instead she thought back to the success they’d had finding the stolen goods.
Jo laughed. She didn't think Jon was wrong about their investigative prowess, but as usual he was doing it to meet his own needs. He was thinking about the publicity he might get if he was associated with something like this, and the money it might mean in sales of his books and reprints of his old novels. Who knows, wonder what everyone else is thinking? Thought Jo. She turned up the radio and let the music drown out her thoughts.
j*a*d*e*(s) – gentle women start your engines
Darci was sitting on the steps of her average home, just as she did every morning before school – waiting for Jo to pick her up. The California sun warmed her upturned face. She loved these mornings. Everything was fresh and it felt good to be up and doing something, even if it was going to school. She liked school and she was even good at it, but she still longed for more. In a few short years, they’d all be headed for college and she held out hope that it would be more fulfilling than high school.
She was thinking about J*A*D*E, as they’d been dubbed by friends and family. Their names spelled the word out, Jo, Amy, Darci, and Emma. It was a joke, a tease, but secretly, Darci loved it. It meant she was a part of something solid, something real. Real friends that never give up on you and do anything they have to for you. Darci had always been an outsider, half white, half black, never really a part of either world. But her friends didn’t care. To them she was Darci Haim and no matter what they never gave up on her or let her give up on herself.
She wondered if Jon could be right. There was a first time for everything, she thought. It would be great to have a few extra bucks here and there. Sure, they may have to work hard for their money, but it was money. Her mom had been renting a high-end apartment that they could barely afford so that Darci could go to the best school. When Jo heard that Darci’s mom was looking for a house she had suggested to her father that he sell them the one that had come with his acquisition of land. He had been renting it and had off-handily remarked to Jo that he may sell it; it was more trouble than it was worth to rent it. He agreed, willing to do anything to please his daughter.
Her mother had insisted that this was the place for them; better schools and better people. She had been right. Jo, Emma, and their parents had proved that, making them feel welcomed. When Emma’s mom needed a new salesperson, Darci’s mom, Ann, was the first person she asked. They’d all become a family, something that Darci’d never had before.
Her father paid child support and her mom worked all the time, but they had a big mortgage to pay since the homes in this community were expensive. They had bought the house from Jo’s dad. He owned most of the land on the dirt road that they all lived on. Most of the land was undeveloped, but he had bought it through a government auction for a fraction of the cost. He had sold them the home for less money than he should have. He had done it because she was Jo’s friend, and he understood that her mom wanted her to go to a good school with a chance for a better future.
Jo and Darci had met at school, literally bumping into one another and sending Darci’s books spilling to the floor. Jo’d helped her pick her books up from the dirty high school floor and they’d instantly become friends. Emma had been as welcoming as Jo. Emma was the glue of their friendship while Jo was the fuel. Amy, the last into the fold, was the energy and Darci was the logic.
J*A*D*E could be a big risk, but it might pay off. Her train of thought was interrupted by an all too familiar toot of a horn. She opened her eyes and saw Jo sliding over into the passenger's seat of the Mustang.
Darci had gotten her driver’s license two days earlier, thinking that it had taken sixteen years too long to get the darn thing. She leaped up from the steps and ran down the short driveway. Halfway to the car she slid to a stop, realizing that she had left her bag on the steps of the porch. She scrambled back for her things, frantically hurrying.
Jo smiled for a moment at the sight of Darci running around all over the place, all the while hoping that she would be gentle with the car. Now that she finally had it, she planned on keeping it the way it was. Darci threw her books in the back seat, vaulted over the car door, and slid into the driver's seat. (Guess she forgot that most cars come equipped with doors) She roared off before Jo had a chance to comment or even mutter a greeting.
j*a*d*e*(s) – thoughtful moment
Amy sat at the kitchen table eating her cereal, which was loaded with sugar; her spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl. Her mom was always buying plain cereal because of her father’s health. Emma always said that sugar was her substitute for getting high. Amy figured that she was probably right about that, she did have an addictive personality.
She really wasn’t up to going to school this morning. It was getting close to vacation and school was boring and repetitive. Amy had a bad case of cabin fever, and it was starting to grate on her nerves. She had noticed her temper flaring more often, and that she wanted to get high or drink in the middle of her sleepless nights.
The girls let the temper slide, but at home, she had to be careful about what she said. Amy’s relationship with her parents was still frayed, but it was decisively better than it had been when they lived in Florida.
They had moved to California over two years ago, and until then she had no real relationship, or trust with her parents. She was working on getting there with them and her older brothers. They had been to counseling when they’d moved, but after a while they’d given up on it because Amy was too confrontational. Having someone else tell you how to speak to each other wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It was a slow road, but one that she was sure was worth taking. She and her mother had been talking more often, even if all they did was talk about the weather or gardening. She had started inviting her dad to breakfast on the weekends when she worked and he had to drive her there. It was a way of spending some quality time with him. He had been quiet the first few breakfast dates, but he was slowly starting to talk; mostly about work, but it was a beginning.
Amy sat thinking about J*A*D*E while drinking her orange juice. All the girls were smart enough to know when opportunity came knocking they should answer the door, but were they ready for this kind of responsibility? She wasn't so sure that they were old enough to be conducting a business, going to school, and having a social life. Then again, it might make up for some of the mundane times that they were having, like right now.
Amy's mother was pattering around the large kitchen, trying to conjure up a new way of making chicken, once again. Amy was sick of chicken. It seemed to her that it was all that they ate when her father was home. She knew that he had to watch his diet but this was getting ridiculously out of hand. Chicken and salad, all Amy wanted was a greasy cheeseburger.
“Amy, honey, hurry up, Jo will be here any minute. How about roast chicken for supper tonight?” said Mrs. Astin.
Amy clenched her teeth, but she merely nodded. Something she constantly worked on. A work in progress is what Emma always told her, think before you speak or do. Emma little miss peace keeper.
She knew, of course, that Jo would be there soon. She also knew that her mom liked Jo most of all. Soon after they had moved, and only weeks after Amy had begun to hang out with the other girls, her mother had misplaced her wedding ring. This left Amy’s mother very upset. They had turned the house upside down and inside out, and still no ring.
Amy asked Jo if she had any ideas, since in the short time she had known her, Jo had an uncanny way of listening to people, and of knowing things. To Amy, it sometimes felt that Jo could read her mind. Jo would then see or understand something that ordinary people had missed. Jo had helped her through some of the hardest times in her life, and all she had done was listen to her and reassure her. Amy was surprised at how well Jo understood her.
Jo had told Amy that she would be glad to help. Jo came over the next day to see if she could do anything. It was early and Amy remembered thinking that Jo got up at the butt crack of dawn. She’d sat Amy's mother down in the kitchen and asked her to go over everything she had done on the day that she’d lost the ring.
That's exactly what her mother had done. About an hour later, Jo stood up and looked around. Walking around the house, she tried to get an idea of what had gone on that day. Once back in the kitchen, she grabbed a chair, climbed up to one of the cabinets, rummaged around in the back of the shelf, and came up with the ring. For some reason, Amy's mom had taken it off when she had been washing the canning jars. She had left it in one of them, not taking notice of it and storing the jars. Of course, that would have been the last place to look for a ring. Amy had wondered how Jo had known. Then again, sometimes it felt as if Jo simply knew things.
A horn then blared through her thoughts.
“Amy, Jo and Darci are here, hurry up and don't keep them waiting too long. I think that she's running late."
Amy managed a feeble, "Yes mom, I heard." Then she dashed out the door, the door slapped back into its jam after she rushed through it. She jogged down the driveway to find a surprise. Darci was sitting in the driver's seat trying to conceal a large grin.
Jo was in the passenger seat shaking her head sadly, and with some regret, at her decision to let Darci drive. Jo was also trying to keep her temper reigned in because Darci had a habit of going fast.
Amy jumped into the back seat. She snapped the seatbelt into place and wiggled in her seat.
Jo let out an audible sigh and said in an impatient tone of voice, "The upholstery."
"Now the real fun begins, on to school, step on it, James," laughed Amy waving her hand in the air back and forth.