10
From the entryway, the Black Forest cuckoo clock squawked its 4:00 a.m. call, a sound that passed Mark's ears unnoticed.
His breakthrough had come at 10:13 last night, and he had been unable to stop reading since then. For Mark to be engrossed in a book was almost unheard of. He had never really had the interest it required to make his way through them.
Then, two weeks ago, he had seen a commercial advertising a new speed-reading course. The idea had hit him like a bucket of bricks. If he could learn to read as fast as the people in that commercial, he could knock out his studies in a heartbeat, leaving plenty of time for the things he loved doing. Plus he would have a secret advantage over Jen and Heather. That would be really nice for a change.
True, he already had a perfect photographic memory. But scanning the pages of a book into memory was unsatisfying. Mark still had to go back in his mind and read through the material to find the information he needed. It was like buying a book for your library but never reading it.
That is why he had paid the 350 dollars with his own money, waiting impatiently for its arrival by UPS. That wait had ended two days ago, and Mark had been there to meet the delivery man, spiriting the package off to his room without telling anyone else, especially Jennifer.
It had taken only a few minutes for him to scan the entire set of course workbooks into memory. The books themselves had gone under his bed, no longer needed.
After spending four hours that evening mentally practicing the exercises, Mark had given up in disgust. The big problem was subvocalization, or the sounding out of words in his mind as he read them. He couldn't seem to squelch the need to hear the words as he read.
That problem was complicated by Mark’s ability to memorize a page by glancing at it. In an odd way, that ability made his mind lazy, reluctant to take the step that would allow him to understand phrases of text at a glance. Mark had gone reluctantly to bed, where he tossed and turned for the remainder of the night.
Yesterday had started with similar results, but Mark kept at it, devoting every private moment to practice. Then, late in the evening, just as he was about to admit defeat, he stumbled upon a technique that worked.
He began focusing on small phrases, allowing pictures to form in his mind as he looked at them. After his first few successes, he began working at seeing larger passages, letting his mind deliver pictures instead of the sounds. It was as if he had rubbed a magic lamp or whispered the magic words. All at once, he understood everything. And as he practiced, his speed increased. By 3:30 a.m., he had read every book in his room.
His excitement drove him downstairs to the bookshelves in the living room. Propped in his father's easy chair, with a pile of books on the end table beside him, Mark immersed himself. He could almost read each page as fast as he could scan it. It was like watching incredibly detailed movies unfold in his mind. Fascinating.
The front door opened, startling him out of his concentration. Jennifer slipped inside, taking great care to close it silently behind her. Her clothes gave him another surprise. Jennifer was wearing a sweat suit and running shoes. As she turned toward the stairs, she spotted him, and a small gasp of surprise escaped her lips.
"Mark. You startled me."
"I startled you? What were you doing out there?"
Jennifer bit her lower lip. "If I tell you, promise me you won’t breathe a word to anyone else."
Mark set down the book and stood up. "What is it?"
"Promise."
"Okay, I promise." Mark folded his arms expectantly.
Jennifer paused before answering. "I've been out jogging."
Mark's snort of laughter brought an angry look to his twin's face.
"I have been," Jennifer snapped.
"Really? You've never jogged a day in your life, much less in the middle of the night."
"I'm worried about my figure?"
"You're kidding, right?"
Jennifer's scowl deepened. "Mark, you better not laugh. Is it that unbelievable?"
"Well, besides the fact you have never cared about boys, you're already skinny."
"That's just it. I don't want to be skinny. I want my legs to look a little more defined. Like Heather's."
Jennifer could not have surprised Mark more if she had slapped him in the face.
“Like Heather? Since when have you wanted to look like Heather?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to look like her. I just want to look a little better.”
“Whatever you say.”
"You'll remember your promise?"
"My lips are sealed. After all, how would it look if it got out that my sister is normal?"
The scowl faded from Jennifer's face. "Thanks."
As she made her way up the stairs, Mark marveled at the fact that she had not noticed his late-night reading binge. Oh well. Mark, Jennifer, and Heather had all been acting a bit strangely lately. If his sister had decided to start exercising, it was hardly weirder than Mark becoming a speed-reader.
Heather was the one who had been worrying him. Her claim that she couldn't remember her dreams bothered him. Mark didn't believe that for a second. Heather didn't want to remember them. Something about the dreams was scaring her so badly that she was suppressing them.
Mark's heart ached at the thought of all that Heather had recently been through. As badly as he wanted to protect her, to make her feel safe, this was something that was beyond him. Since they had found the Second Ship, her premonitions had been uncannily accurate. The thought that these dreams might be another premonition scared the crap out of him.
Ignoring the sudden chill that had crept into the room with Jennifer, Mark resumed his seat in his father's chair. But it was a long while before he regained his former concentration.