The Atlantis Girl Read online

Page 3


  Her racing heartbeat was beginning to slow, and her anxiety over the move—which she had hidden well, even from herself—gradually diminished. Jaxon stared at the television screen and let the cartoon watch her as she drifted off in thought. She understood the group home likely had its low points, too. She knew that she had yet to meet another member of the household, but she didn’t care, because she also understood that as long as she had that room to return to, she might have finally found a sanctuary. And that was more than she had ever had at any other time and at any other place.

  She smiled to herself, feeling… at home.

  Chapter 2

  MARCH 14, 2016, SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

  2:55 PM

  Dr. Hollis had an office on the first floor, and it was more like an oversized closet than a full-fledged room. Tucked into a corner of the house at the end of the entryway, the office was partitioned from the foyer by a wall with a rounded arch. Jax ambled down the stairs at the appointed hour of their meeting, wondering idly how anyone ever imagined they would get any privacy while chatting with the good doctor with such an open floor plan. Passers-by in the hallway could clearly see into the room and listen to whatever was being discussed. She nervously peeked past the arch.

  The floor of the office was dark hardwood, and the walls were eggshell white with built-in bookshelves loaded with books and an assortment of odds and ends. There was barely enough room for the few pieces of furniture. Beyond the entrance was a high-backed settee in faded scarlet damask, stuffy and old-fashioned, with a secondhand patina. In front of the settee was a small round coffee table inlaid with glass and covered in a thick layer of dust. It sat low, and a bronze floor lamp was placed against a wall beside it.

  She cautiously entered and waited to be noticed. Dr. Hollis sat at a battered old desk in front of an oak door. The door boasted a stained glass window filtering in soft, colorful light, and the door appeared to lead outside. It seemed an odd place to block off. His desk was littered with loose papers, and sticky notes were tacked to his computer monitor. He was scribbling furiously in a notebook. Jaxon cleared her throat, but he didn’t seem to hear.

  “Dr. Hollis?” She spoke softly so as not to disturb him.

  The doctor glanced up from his notebook with a distracted expression. “Ah, Jaxon! Come in, come in. Give me a moment. I was just… just finishing up some progress notes, bothersome paperwork.” He shifted in the busted leather office chair and went back to his notes as Jaxon nervously perched in a rounded dining room chair near his desk. She glanced around the room to get a feel for the man who would be her new therapist.

  In her sixteen years, she had had her share of psychiatrists, psychologists, and psych nurses. She had so much experience with them, she almost felt she could read them as well as they pretended to read her. For instance, a lot could be discerned about a person from a thorough examination of their environment.

  Dr. Hollis’s office indicated no conscious effort at decorating. The furniture was a motley mix of pieces, many of which didn’t belong in an office. He clearly had no design theme, unless it was “bored bachelor slaps together a room.” Jax bit her lips to keep from smiling. An olive green carry-on bag was bunched beneath the settee. A lone black file cabinet was beside the desk, and an accent chair was tucked in a corner, both piled with books and notebooks. What looked like a clothes hamper filled with magazines was in the other corner by the entry arch behind her. There was no order.

  The wastebasket overflowed, and dust covered more than just the coffee table. Dr. Hollis seemed to have grown into his space, however, as if he had been at the facility long enough to dig roots in deep. There were many personal touches such as houseplants and photographs on the shelves. Behind him was a tacky poster of a snowflake with the words “Thank You” above Japanese script.

  Jax determined he was a single-focus man, prone to forgetfulness and absented-mindedness, judging by the sticky-note reminders and apparent disregard for cleanliness. He probably couldn’t walk and chew bubblegum at the same time. He was a studied man, she decided as she judged his taste in reading. Most of the books were academic in nature, spines lined and creased from frequent handling. He spent either way too much time in his office or not enough.

  “Thank you,” he murmured without looking up, “for your patience. These damn deadlines always catch up with me before I’m ready.”

  “It’s no problem.” A half smile curled her lips upward.

  He dotted the last i and crossed the last t. “Now that that’s over with, the first order of business is to get you an ID card. After that, we’ll get you tested and placed. Um, is this your first group home?” Dr. Hollis was flipping papers and folders on his desk, hunting for Jaxon’s. He impatiently ran his thin fingers through his wavy, longish brown hair, eyebrows knit together over his aquiline nose. He finally found the file tucked in the top drawer where he had placed it to keep from losing it.

  “Yep.” Jax pursed her lips and slouched in her chair, tapping the armrests with her fingertips.

  Dr. Hollis turned his computer toward her. “Smile for the camera.” A wavering twist of her lips was captured by the quick flash, and Jaxon inwardly groaned at what was bound to be a terrible identification badge photo. Dr. Hollis toyed with his mouse and keyboard for a few minutes before the card maker attached by USB port spit out a flat, rectangular card.

  “That’s it?” Jaxon asked as he handed the card across the desk.

  “That’s all there is to that. Make sure you keep up with the card because I have to charge you five bucks for every replacement. You’ll need it to access the dining hall and classroom. You’ll be pleased to find out we also have a recently renovated game room and snack shop on the top level. Your ID card can be loaded with FW points to be used up there.”

  “How do you earn FW points?”

  “Every student starts off with ten FW points. You can earn them and lose them according to your behavior. You earn more by doing noteworthy things around the house. Your teachers and other staff members all score your positive behavior weekly and enter their appraisals via computer, resulting in points added to your account. Kind of like a bank deposit.” He held up a warning finger. “Similarly, infractions result in loss of points. I’ll give you our handbook before you leave so you can familiarize yourself with our expectations.”

  “So if I break the rules, I just get points taken away?” She snickered, clamping down on her lips before laughing outright.

  Dr. Hollis gave her a harsh look. “We don’t like to operate under a system of punishments here. We prefer rewarding good behavior rather than promoting irresponsible behavior by making a spectacle of a misstep. However, rest assured, any resident caught breaking the rules will be dealt with summarily. Now”—he brightened—“ready to get the testing over with?”

  “Is it some sort of formal process with papers and bubble sheets? Or do you just bombard me with meaningless questions and pictures and fudge my responses? How does it work?” Jaxon thought testing was a waste of time. She sighed gustily and crossed her arms.

  Dr. Hollis chuckled, shaking his head. He reached behind him for a cracked and torn binder atop the black file cabinet. “Basically, closer to the latter. Let me explain. Our residents receive homeschooling, and our curriculum doesn’t mirror what you’d see in a typical public school. Rather, we format lesson plans according to an IEP. Do you know what that is?”

  “I think I had one before.” Jax rolled her eyes. “I’m dyslexic. Individual education program.”

  “Right! Precisely. The lesson plans are structured to strengthen your weaknesses and cater to your strengths. Listen, we’re not here to make it harder to learn. We’re here to make it easier for you to process and utilize new information. So let’s start with some aptitude tests and see where we can go from there. Let me warn you, this is going to take a while.”

  “Like, how long?”

  He shrugged, looking apologetic. “Depending on some of your result
s, it could take much of the rest of the evening and possibly a portion of tomorrow morning. But don’t worry. I’ll have you settled into your courses soon and get you started with our program in no time. You trust me on that?” He smiled warmly, and Jaxon felt her lips twitch in response. He had an infectious smile.

  “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

  He placed a small voice recorder on the center of his desk and angled it toward her. Then he turned his computer camera to face her so he could record video. Jaxon fidgeted in the uncomfortable dining chair. She hated being the center of attention.

  Dr. Hollis started the psychometric testing with general achievement and intelligence tests, diligently making notes. Jaxon watched his face run the gamut of emotions from intrigue to intense surprise at some of her responses.

  Jaxon knew she would score high on the charts intellectually, and in a rare move, she answered to the best of her ability—and the best of her ability was far from average. Jax didn’t know why she was giving Dr. Hollis preferential treatment. Ordinarily, getting answers from her was next to impossible. By the end of the aptitude tests, he looked stunned.

  “Wow. You’re really quite amazing,” he said.

  Jaxon blushed, gnawing on her bottom lip. “Is that a bad thing here?”

  His eyebrows shot up over his glittering brown eyes. “Why on earth would it be?” He shook his head, realization dawning. “Ah, of course. You must be wondering if you’ll catch any flak from the other students for your intelligence metrics. No, no, we have a no-bullying policy here, and please don’t limit yourself on account of others. Do you know your IQ? Gosh, I almost want someone else to readminister the test just to be sure I haven’t made any errors.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” said Jaxon, shrugging. She wrapped her arms around herself, wondering if she had made a mistake in revealing her true potential. “Nobody has to know, really.”

  “Jaxon, your IQ is about 172. To put that into perspective, Einstein’s was 160.”

  “Are you serious?” she whispered.

  He waved his hands in front of him. “I mean, you can fail every other test you take in class, but intelligence like that is hard to hide. I’m kind of blown away right now.” He hooted and muttered, “Sheesh, you’re smart enough to take my job.”

  She giggled. He cleared his throat and made a long face, flashing her a playful grin. “Who am I kidding? Who the heck wants my job? But realistically speaking, I’ve looked at your transcripts, and you were definitely underperforming. Have you put any thought into college or anything like that? What do you want to do when you get out of here?”

  Jaxon shrugged. She hadn’t thought about what she would do when she left the foster care system. She had a vague vision of herself working in Walmart or some other store, making enough money for a studio apartment somewhere where she could do whatever the hell she wanted with her life, which was… well, anything other than being told what to do. She shrugged again.

  Dr. Hollis steepled his fingers atop his desk and gazed at her warmly. “I want you to start formulating a five-year plan. Sounds extreme, I know, but five years can pass in the blink of an eye, and if you don’t know where you plan to go, you don’t know where you’ll end up. I want you to make a list of colleges or trade schools you want to apply to, and I want you to construct a game plan for how you intend to improve your grades so you can meet the standards required.”

  “Man, you’re asking a lot of me.”

  “I expect a lot, now that I know what you can do. All right, back to the business at hand. I’m going to read a few questionnaires to you. Ready?” Dr. Hollis rose from his chair and pointed a thumb toward the door. “Want to go out back? It gets stuffy in here around this time of day.”

  “Sure,” Jaxon murmured. The psychiatrist powered off the voice recorder and stuck it into his pocket. He turned off the camera and beckoned her to follow him.

  “Tell me why you had such a hard time at your last school,” he said as he wrestled open the door.

  Jaxon sighed and replied, “Virtually every school I’ve attended has been the same. Everywhere I go, I have people on my case. They talk about me, try to fight me. ’Cause people tend to underestimate me. I’m small, you know.”

  Dr. Hollis chuckled, nodding understandingly. He got the door open only wide enough for them to squeeze through, their access hampered by the placement of his desk. She shimmied through the crack behind him.

  “‘And, though she be but little, she is fierce.’ William Shakespeare wrote that,” he said. Jaxon’s gaze flew to his face where his eyes crinkled gently in a relaxed smile as they headed out to the yard.

  Jaxon was stunned. The backyard was expansive, its manicured lawn gleaming emerald green and bordered by gemstone flowers and lush shrubbery. An oversized ginkgo tree grew to the left of the open expanse, and picnic tables sat beneath the tree. Beyond the ginkgo was a volleyball net and plenty of room for outdoor play, but that wasn’t what caught her eye.

  The Forever Welcome gardens were unlike any she had ever seen. Ruby-red tulips vied with pearlescent oleander and topaz mums. Leafy jade sedum and stalks of sapphire indigo circled the yard. A high stone fence covered in climbing green ivy separated the backyard from the rest of the estate, and through a trellised archway covered with feathery wisteria was a cobblestone walkway that led to another enclosed garden. In the distance through the arch, she saw a massive fountain spewing glistening white water and more flowers and greenery. It beckoned.

  Jaxon inhaled sharply as she admired the eye-popping vista. “What is this place?” she whispered breathlessly. She walked down the brick steps and along the stepping-stones toward the picnic tables, Dr. Hollis in her wake.

  “Oh, this is the secret garden. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  The sun was low in the dusky purple sky. It had to be near seven in the evening, but Jaxon wanted to keep going, the testing forgotten. She wanted to explore the verdant mystery beyond the brick wall. The muggy breeze was perfumed with floral scents and the smell of fresh-cut grass. The very act of breathing made her feel transported to another world where her earthly concerns were trivial. Jaxon closed her eyes and stood still next to the picnic table, immersing herself in the experience.

  She could feel the garden’s growth. She could literally feel the tingle through her shoes and against the pads of her toes and the balls of her feet. The hair along the back of her neck stood up, her heartbeat racing with an infusion of adrenaline. She was almost overwhelmed by the electric act of processing the assault to her senses. It was more than the beauty she could see, the aromas she smelled, and the warm breeze against her skin. There was something thought-provoking at play, something that teased at her mind with haunting fingers.

  She couldn’t place the sensation, but it was there.

  Dr. Hollis gestured to the picnic table, drawing her attention away from the amazing view. He had his tablet computer and placed it on top of the table so they could continue the tedious testing, which wasn’t so tedious since they were out of the office. Jaxon felt much more at ease. She studied the psychiatrist, a man unlike any other shrink she had ever encountered. She knew it was his job to peer into her brain and figure out all the things that were wrong with her, but he didn’t seem to be doing that.

  He reminded her of a character in a film, like Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird, with his charming good looks and gregarious personality. She stopped scrutinizing him when, during the next round of testing, his tone became more conversational. Dr. Hollis slid in a joke or two between the questions, and she found herself letting down her guard. Gradually, he broke from the questionnaires and structured tests and made notes from her answers to his more personal questions.

  “You’re stronger than you appear, Jaxon Andersen.”

  “Stronger than you know,” she said with a raise of her eyebrows and a half smile. She stared at the yard, and she wanted desperately to explore the grounds. She glanced back at Dr. Hollis and found him
shaking his head and tapping his watch.

  “Whoops! Look at me—I let time get away from me again. You’re scheduled for dinner in less than thirty minutes.”

  “Dinner? Is it formal?” she asked anxiously. “Do I need to change?”

  “No, not at all. Completely casual around here.” He turned to go indoors. “Right this way, Jaxon. We’ll have to complete the testing in the morning. Oh, and I have some forms, a welcome packet to give you. Let’s see. Where did I put that stuff?” he muttered. Jaxon sighed and followed, reluctant to leave the garden that called to her in a language she almost recognized but couldn’t quite comprehend. She peeked one last time over her slender shoulder then slipped inside.

  Dr. Hollis was rifling through the papers on his desk. “I know I had that folder in here somewhere. Yellow, yellow, yellow...” Jaxon spotted a lemon-yellow folder on top of the accent chair and idly handed it to him. “Yes, there it is.” He beamed excitedly, tapping the folder with widespread fingers. “In here is everything you need to know to get today finished and start your day tomorrow. Uh, there’s information about the curfew, lights out, that sort of thing. And I think there’s a map. Let me check. Ah yes, a map. Now, I had hoped to pair you with a mentor for your first few days here, but we’re a little tight for staff, so you’ll just have to rely on me.”

  He smiled self-deprecatingly, tilting his head and brushing back his long hair. He handed her the folder, and Jaxon stared down at it with a twinge of disappointment, daunted by the prospect of having to go through it. The yellow folder was thick as a book and jammed with papers and pamphlets. She hated reading. “Gee, thanks,” she mumbled.

  “Come along now. We’ll be late to the dining hall if I don’t get you there shortly.”