The Secret of Zormna Clendar by Julie Steimle (great reads .TXT) 📖

leaned on the edge. Jennifer wondered what she was seeing.

Peering over their father’s head, Agent Simms called to Zormna from the open doorway. “When you are ready to talk, call us.” He stuck out his pinkie and thumb, waggling them more like he was telling the blonde to ‘hang loose’. With a brisk nod, he stepped out after his partner.

The front door closed.

Their father turned.

Passing Zormna wordlessly on his way to the kitchen, his eyes held a silent glare. Cautiously, Zormna watched him.

The stillness in the house seemed to grow thicker as no one dared to speak. Jennifer waited for the tirade to begin. And she could see Todd also brace for the verbal attack, geared up to come to Zormna’s defense.

Mindy and Andrew hunched in their chairs, not even daring to whisper as they could feel the pressure rise—a prelude to a storm.

Their parents held a silent conversation with their eyes, glancing at Zormna who stood almost motionless at the partition that divided the living room from the family room.

But Zormna did not remain there long. Something in the look on her face had changed. Preoccupation with a thought. Blinking into space then taking in her surroundings, the blonde’s eyes narrowed in that way that made the skin crawl up Jennifer’s back and arms. Alien or military, the manner in which Zormna walked through the family room was something else. She limped directly to the couch where they had all been sitting a few seconds ago and crouched down, groping under the edge of the coffee table with her fingers.

Todd angled his head to the side to see what she was feeling for. For a moment there, it looked like she was peeling gum off the underside of the table—something her parents would have killed them for. But it wasn’t gum. Zormna had pried up a flat disk the size of a watch battery and as thin as a penny. She held it up without saying a word.

“What is that, Zormna?” Andrew asked.

Jennifer clamped her hand over her little brother’s mouth, holding her own breath. She looked to her parents.

Both adults stared at Zormna, drawn-in breaths silenced quickly.  

And Zormna continued to paw the table and then the chairs the agents had sat on. She peeled off three more of those disks and palmed them. Everyone watched her from where they were standing, too entranced by their house guest’s abrupt movement to remember their own. Going here and there in that room, practically tracing the steps those two men had made, Zormna eventually limped over to the kitchen counter where the agents had first stood before they were given a seat in the family room.

Zormna groped under the edge of the counter. Her fingers stopped in a spot. She peeled off yet another disk and placed it on the table.

“What are those?” Mindy said, gasping.

Todd clapped a hand over her mouth and shook his head at her.

No one moved now except for Zormna. She strode over to the clay jar that held the wire whisks, spatulas, and one dangerous-looking meat tenderizer. Everyone watched her pick up the meat hammer, slapping Mrs. McLenna’s cutting board onto the counter. She set her handful of disks on it then lifted the hammer.

If hair turned white at every moment a person held his breath in fear, Jennifer was sure the entire McLenna family would have gone from being redheads to white-haired that very minute. Zormna smashed that pile of metal and plastic into powdery bits with a vindictive bang. And she repeated it three more times out of spite. Then Zormna gently set the hammer next to the cutting board and looked up at their father and mother.

She bowed.

“I suggest you also check the doorframe and the walls they touched.” Her voice was just above a whisper. “I have no doubt they would leave many more if they come around again.”

She turned and limped towards the stairs.

“How did you know?” Todd started to ask.

But their father set a hand on Todd’s mouth.

“Where are you going?” Mr. McLenna asked Zormna.

Zormna turned around, back in the role of submissive child again. “Up to pack. You are going to throw me out, aren’t you? Something about foster care?”

Sighing heavily, with so much regret and yet with resolve at the same time, their father stepped in front of her. “No. Plans have changed. You are staying here until your school comes for you, and that is final.”

Zormna closed her eyes and breathed heavily. Tears formed in the cracks between her lashes like a prisoner just granted immunity. And it took Jennifer’s breath away—which drove Jennifer nuts. That girl had no right to look so angelic! How was she supposed to keep objective about the whole dangerous alien business when her breath kept getting blown away?

“Yes, sir.” Zormna bowed like a Japanese samurai then turned once more to go upstairs.

“Where are you going?” their father asked again, this time exasperated.

Zormna stopped and looked back. “To my room. I am suddenly very tired.”

The father nodded, waving her away with a roll of his eyes.

Todd rushed to the front hall.

Placing his hand on the wall edge, Todd felt it over and then crossed to the front door. Returning to the kitchen with two more bugs in his hand, Todd looked up at his parents without saying anything. But panic was in his eyes, asking “What is going on?”

Their mom immediately followed Zormna’s example and smashed the remaining bugs. Then she went back to preparing dinner.

*

Despite the first FBI visit, which undoubtedly foreshadowed future visits, the FBI agents who had watched Zormna before merely resumed their watch as she went about her daily routine. But watching her for what? What did they think they would find? Besides, Zormna could not go back to life as usual. Her frequent headaches made it impossible to think. And the eyes of so many people watching her had stolen away her confidence.

Fact one: she had screwed up. The FBI, no matter how inept they had originally seemed, had gotten the better of her. And they had succeeded in suppressing the memory of what they had done to her, which made it worse.

Fact two: though the FBI were inept at hiding that they were the ones who had kidnapped her, they were confident that she could do nothing about it. The FBI’s confidence in her inability told her that they knew she was on her own.

Fact three: someone from within their agency had killed her great aunt. And it was most likely the agents watching her were waiting for that despicable mole to show himself to attempt to do the same to her as to her great aunt. Apparently they were not worried about her safety as much as catching their mole.

Also, Zormna figured out the kinds of things the FBI would ask her in an interrogation, if indeed they believed all her great aunt’s babble about being from Mars. Darren’s constant chatter for the past two months had educated her on the blabber her great aunt had inundated him with. The FBI would have easily been able to add up what kind of person she was, and what people she was connected to—especially if Darren had.

Incidentally, Zormna noticed that Darren was still shying away from her. She was not sure if it was shame or fear that motivated him to keep his distance. But his distance did give her peace, so she paid it no mind.

Despite all that, the information the FBI had extracted from her had been on Zormna’s mind since. Military interrogation had only one purpose, after all—to get the upper hand over the enemy. She wondered what she might have revealed. Name? Rank? Codes? Locations? Zormna cringed. Because she held many military secrets. Some, which even the leaders of her country were not privy to.

All of this had been on her mind as she went back into the mundane high school routine starting Wednesday. And as she looked around herself during class, it finally settled in her brain that this was to be her life from now on. Playing ‘teenager’. Only, from now on, Zormna knew she could no longer let herself be alone ever again. It was too dangerous.  

Everyone else seemed to agree. But coming and going to school with Jennifer or Todd had its shortcomings, mostly because they did not always go directly home. Flag practice was held frequently after school, as well as Todd’s track. That meant she also had to stay until practice was over. During that time, Zormna usually sat in a shadow somewhere in the bleachers with her homework, hoping it would not rain or she would not get sunburned—because she did not tan. She chose the bleachers because if anyone strange approached her, she’d see them coming, and so would everyone else.  

But sitting alone was dull. Homework took no time to do. And staring day in and day out at everything from the birds to the growing grass was driving her mad. Until an idea came to her. It was ingenious really. And funnily enough, the idea actually was inspired by Joy Henderson.

“Jennifer, I am going to be a cheerleader,” Zormna announced at lunch two weeks after her kidnapping.

Jennifer choked on her milk, coughing it into the grass. “You what? You can’t be a cheerleader!”

Zormna scowled as she handed Jennifer the red flier for cheerleading tryouts. Joy had given it to her that morning. “Yes, I can. It says here that all people who want to tryout just need to sign up and come to the practices. There they will decide who cheers at games and who doesn’t.”

Frowning, Jennifer eyed her sharply. “That’s not what I meant. You just aren’t the type. Cheerleaders are ditzy shallow idiots that run around in short skirts with pompons.”

Zormna rolled her eyes. “That’s what they say about Flags.”

Jennifer grimaced then stuck out her tongue. “You are a super-ninja from…wherever! You’re not—”

“Jennifer, it is not like I’m doing this for social reasons,” Zormna said. “You know I don’t care what people think of me.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes, muttering. “No kidding.”

Zormna grabbed Jennifer’s wrist to keep her attention, which was waning in belief that an alien was serious about this. “I’m bored. But if it will make you feel better, I am also trying out for gymnastics. And maybe even soccer and track if I can.”

Jennifer’s eye’s widened, mentally counting the number of sports, muttering “Show off” under her breath.

“Jennifer, I need to stay as public as possible,” Zormna explained. “With the FBI following me everywhere, my only protection is within a crowd that expects me to be there. One that takes roll.”

Considering the thought, Jennifer tilted her head. “But cheerleading?”

Zormna explained as a sheepish blush heated her cheeks, “It is extremely high profile. Besides, I get to do lots of stunts without people thinking the wrong thing. There is even a camp that I can go to this summer, which will keep me occupied—and away from your parents. Besides, it should be fun.”

“When you put it that way, it fits you.” Jennifer chuckled, shaking her head. “But are you sure you’ll even make the cuts? I mean you may be acrobatic and all, but that doesn’t mean you’ll make it into the clique of popular bubble heads.”

At first, Zormna did not realize Jennifer was teasing. But she finally recognized that facetious look in her eyes. “Funny. I can play a part.”

“You’re a stiff,” Jennifer said, then saluted. “All soldier.”

Groaning, Zormna leaned in while pleading. “Please, Jennifer. Support me in this. All I have to do is yell annoyingly loud, go through the routines and bob my head like an idiot. I’ve watched them.” Chuckling, she added, “Other than acting like an idiot, I have it made.”

Jennifer snorted.

Zormna peered into her face with hope, watching her reaction.

Finally Jennifer said, “What? Do you want me to coach on how to act like an idiot? Is that what you are asking?”

Zormna nodded, ducking her head between her shoulders. “You know