Chapter 4

The shift.

Without those pills Beatrix gave me, I probably would not have been able to sleep. As it was, I woke a couple of hours later – still fuzzy-brained from the headache – with one question on my mind.

What the hell is the shift?

“That’s what Evangeline called it,” Beatrix told me that afternoon in her office. “She had a similar…ability.”

“But what is it? Is it the headache?” God, I hoped not. That was more than a headache: it was a full-body ache.

Beatrix glanced away from me, over her shoulder at the papers on her desk that she no doubt wished she could be working on instead, or maybe it was simply to confirm what she was about to say next. “I’m no scientist, Callie, so the best answer I can give you is that your mother – and you – have something like a fluctuating . Do you know what is?”

At ten, I hadn’t yet had biology class, but I knew enough from seeing “” a bunch of times that was the body’s genetic code. And “fluctuate” meant change. But I didn’t understand how the two fit together.

“I guess,” I said. “Why would my fluctuate?” I patted down my arms and legs as if I could force all of the atoms to remain in one place. Stop fluctuating!

“I don’t know,” Bea replied, knitting her brows, suddenly irritated, perhaps, that she wasn’t able to explain things better. Or at all.

“So what does it mean?”

“It means…” Bea paused and consulted her mental thesaurus. “Your bodies can shift into others’ bodies.”

It took a moment for that to sink in but then I was incredulous. “Like, I can become another person?”

“Not exactly. You can become what another person looks like,” Beatrix said. “It’s as if you absorb other people’s into your own and when something traumatic happens to you, like when you panic about something, your body rearranges your genetic code.”

“But how…how do I – we – absorb ?”

“Evie and I assumed it was from touching another person. Skin-to-skin contact. But honestly, we don’t know. No one ever studied her. Not as far as I know, that is,” Bea added.

The more my aunt talked, the more the room began to spin sickeningly, crazily. I clutched at the blanket. “The flashy sparkly things in my eyes—”

“The aura.”

“Aura…what’s that for?”

Bea cocked her head to one side. “Evie called it her early warning system. Whenever it happened, she knew she was going to shift.”

I must have looked like I was about to hyperventilate because my aunt brought me a bottled water with a straw and I gratefully sipped at it.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was hoping this would never happen to you but…”

“But my mom had it too.” I glanced up at Bea but she quickly shook her head.

“Not me, no. Just you and Evie. We thought our mother – your grandmother - could shift too. We don’t know, though, since she never told us anything before she died.”

Does it make me an evil person if I say I found the notion of shifting intriguing, even at ten years old? To me it was like a magic act only without the scary clowns. No fancy wand, no abracadabra spells, no shiny top hats and bunnies. Just poof! Callie Bellflower becomes Anyone Else Who’s Better and More Exciting.

Who wouldn’t want that ability? It was like being a superhero! My mind raced with the possibilities: touch my teacher and become my teacher? Okay, could come in handy. Touch a boy and become a boy? Ew, gross. Touch a bird and…become a bird! Well, hey now, that’s not such a bad skill, after all.

“Can I pick who I want to turn into?”

Back before I could meditate and control my emotions, I wore my heart on my sleeve. Bea read the duplicity on my face and grabbed onto my arm through the blanket. “You mustn’t ever do that, Callie! It’s very dangerous.” The fierce look in her eyes instantly chilled me. “Listen to me, now, listen carefully.”

I held my breath.

“You must never shift. Ever.”

“But how—”

“If you can control your emotions, you can control your body and your won’t change. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“Good. I’m going to teach you to meditate with me along with some calming techniques you can do on your own. You must promise me that if you ever get the aura again, you’ll come to me and I will give you those blue pills.”

“What are they?”

“They’re a very powerful drug that will make you sleep so you won’t shift. Promise me?”

I hesitated. “Will I get the aura again for sure?”

“Maybe.” Beatrix let a long slow breath. “Yes, probably.”

“And the headache? Will I get that again too?”

“I’m not sure, Callie. Evie never talked about that much.” She squeezed my arm for emphasis. “Calliope. Promise me.”

Part of me wanted to say no, to tell my aunt I wanted to be who I was supposed to be, who I was born to be, but another part of me – the loyal part that realized how much Beatrix loved me and wanted to keep me safe – was ready to promise her the moon if I had to.

I wondered too whether my mother had taken the pills, if she had meditated to keep from shifting – or was Bea’s past experience with Evangeline the reason she was so adamant now?

“What will happen to me?” I whispered. “Will I die?”

My aunt held my gaze for so long I thought she had been frozen in time. “Yes, Callie,” she said. “You will die.”

Whatever strength of curiosity I had left my body then, leaving me weak in the knees, my fingers and arms and legs like cubes of quivering jelly.

“Yes, Aunt Beatrix, I promise.”

Different. It’s a bit of an understatement when I think about it.