Blink {Featured}

Chapter Six

'Here,' Marty said pulling John into the nook of his shoulder. 'Smile for the camera.' Snap! The flash blinded them both for a second, then they eagerly vied for the space right in front of the mobile screen, trying to see who looked better.

'Damn I'm hot,' Marty said, impressed with the one arched eyebrow and pouty smirk winking at him from the photo.

'Yeah yeah, just give me the phone so I can Blink the picture already.' John grabbed the thing and counted backwards from ten. A deep breath and then he was spinning towards the photo, spiralling through the vortex of blackness with the star behind him. Before he went into the photo, he'd have to make sure nobody saw him. Shit. Why hadn't he thought of that sooner?

Mrs Arie was paging through a book at her desk, and straight behind it stood her huge file cabinet. The answer sheet was in there somewhere. The classroom looked like a war zone and he was pretty sure Bill was touching Emma's leg in the back. What a bunch of animals! John grinned appreciatively.

Whilst floating in the obscure darkness, John rolled his shoulders and prepared for a trickier entrance into the digital photograph. Film did not cover digital pictures but something likened to a solid glass wall which melted at his touch. Nothing too hard, but it did take a bigger push from him to get the opening going. He cracked his knuckles, breathed deep, and pushed with his shoulder against the barrier.

The glass surface flexed where he pushed at it, and the further he pushed, the more liquid it seemed, like see-through rubber, and suddenly the glass before him was melting, just like it always did. What would happen if he tried a really old mobile phone, he wondered? Would it change anything? These questions about the Blink were endless. Was he the only one who could Blink pictures? That was a question he'd never been able to answer. Maybe somewhere out there somebody else could. Or maybe he was just weird.

Above the class near the fluorescent lights on the roof, John floated in the hopes that if he glowed, nobody would notice him there. He didn't want another episode like the battlefield. If people saw him now they would recognise him, or the test would be cancelled, or the entire path of time might change. Shit couldn't get that far, he needed those answers! Marty had to believe.

'Everyone to your desks,' Ms Arie shouted but her voice did not carry through the room, so she stood, walked to the blackboard, and started writing.

"30 seconds to be seated and quiet or your grade will be 0%."

Quiet came like a wave with the last scrape of her chalk, and hushed murmurs and chair screeches welcomed it in. Ms Arie put a test sheet on each desk, and John waited against the ceiling, chewing his lip and trying to be patient while her heels clacked and echoed up and down each row. The clock on the wall ticked until another two minutes had passed. 'You may start,' Ms Arie said into the deathly silence. Flipping pages and pen scratches killed the quiet, and John let out a nervous breath he hadn't realised he was holding in.

One more minute, and then he'd try get to the files. As John had hoped, Ms Arie walked to her desk and grabbed a novel she kept in her top drawer. Tight against the ceiling, John floated over to the corner where Ms Arie's desk was, being careful not to move too quickly or make any loud noises. The experience with the World War Two photo had left him more nervous than ever.

Ms Arie lifted her head and surveyed the classroom, making sure each pupil was paying attention to their own test. Now against the corner and right at the top, John froze. God, please don't let her look up now. Whew, she went back to her book and John could've sworn he was sweating, but that had never happened in a Blink before. Maybe it was his imagination.

The shelf had four layers. On the first, rows of Maths textbooks and other Mathematical resources stood. On the second row, stacks of test papers leaned against each other and against homework books and other papers organised by class. On the third and fourth levels stood files. Blue, white, red, green, and pink, and each labelled something different. Man, he hoped this was going to be quick. Ms Arie was a keen observer. What if she spotted him?

Just as he thought this she sighed, and he jumped back against the wall right in the corner where the bookshelf's shadow was darkest. That was a stupid idea.

Oh no! Ms Arie turned, and though she looked like she was doing something else her gaze drifted to right where John stood. God, his heart was beating so fast but he stood as still as he could, trying to take quiet, shallow breaths. Don't see me, don't see me. Ms Arie squinted, leaning towards him. Oh shit, no. Crap, she saw him. No no no. This was bad.

Then, instead of screaming as he'd expected, Ms Arie frowned and took off her glasses. With a cloth she dug out of her second drawer, she rubbed at the glasses. John decided to take the opportunity and leapt into action. Which file would it be? Red? No, red would be demerits.

'Demerits,' he read. Bloody good Finnie. Hmm...Green? Green was good, right? John glanced at the rows of green files. 'Timesheets' the label read. Shit. He didn't have time for this. Any moment now Ms Arie would put her glasses back on and realise he was standing there glowing like an alien. White files? 'Calculus' one read, another 'Geometry'. Nope. These weren't the right ones.

Oh God, please let it be pink. Ms Arie's second drawer banged shut, and John watched in slow motion as she reached to put her glasses on. Then he remembered he was in control of the Blink. Yes! Everything froze, Ms Arie's glasses were inches away from her face, and a hilarious expression of squinty eyed focus dressed it.

The tension left John's muscles. Now the test answers. He tried pink next. 'Tests' the label read. Great! There were at least ten pink files, and each had a different year and quarter on it. 'Year eight, second quarter.'

So his file would be closer to the end. Ahh, there it was. 'Year eleven, second quarter.' Out of the cabinet, John pulled the file and flipped to the latest page in it. These were the test answers! It seemed this was his lucky day. Ms Arie had put five copies of the answer sheets in a plastic film pocket. He pulled one out, smiling like he'd won the lotto, and stuffed the file back in the cabinet.

Hu stuck the paper to the bottom of his desk with some of the gum people had left under it. Yes, it was gross, but he was a guy and couldn't be bothered trying to find press-stick. Just before he left, he saw Samantha Grimes leaning over her desk in sheer focus, the top button on her shirt undone. Man--he breathed a low whistle--that was a sight he just had to enjoy. I mean, what teenage guy in his right mind didn't enjoy a bit of cleavage?

With a sigh of longing, John turned his eyes to the star, focusing on it until he found himself back in his chair next to Marty.

'How do I even know the paper hasn't been there all along?' Marty was saying. John rubbed at his eyes. 'Are you listening, Mate?'

A smile crept onto John's face. 'I did it, mate.'

Marty frowned and ducked his head under the table. Sure enough, the test answers were there. John's toothy grin grew to a gloating stretch. 'Go on,' he signalled with one hand, 'you can use it first.'

Marty smirked but tugged the paper off the desk.

P.S.

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© Steve Ford & Joy Cronjé 2018