The Secret of Zormna Clendar by Julie Steimle (best ereader for pdf TXT) 📕

wished she could be out there learning those tricks with the other two.

“Man, she is hot.” Todd sighed.

Glancing at him, Jennifer then rolled her eyes and walked back into the house.

*

At dinner, the youngest kids came in, grass-stained and hyper. Grinning wildly, they tried to settle around the table. Zormna strode in after them with a great deal more composure now that she had released the tension she had been carrying. She even smiled.

Then she looked down at the plate of roast beef, potatoes, and green beans their mother had set in front of her.

“What is this?”

“Dinner,” Mrs. McLenna replied. She gestured to the utensils on the right and left of Zormna’s plate. “Use your fork and knife.”

The girl stared at both as if they were scorpions. Gingerly, Zormna picked up the fork then the knife. Peering over at Mindy who insisted on sitting beside her again, she watched what Mindy was doing. Mindy was only using the fork, until her mother also chided her and told her to cut the roast beef into pieces. Zormna mimicked her almost exactly—including how Mindy clenched the fork in her fist to hold the beef still.  

Jennifer raised her eyebrows.

Todd hid an amused smile.

They ate mostly in silence. Once their father brought up conversation about some political thing he just read on the internet, exchanging thoughts with their mother. It was about those terrorists in Afghanistan again. Or maybe it was Pakistan, or Iran. Jennifer didn’t care. What occupied her thoughts like little insurgents was how Zormna copied how Andrew and Mindy used their eating utensils. Andrew was secretly tucking the green beans under his potato skins. Zormna copied him. She didn’t eat much in the end, setting both fork and knife to the side as one giving up. She filled up on water and juice instead.

Todd and Andrew cleared the table while Jennifer and Mindy swept up the floor and wiped the table off. The parents led Zormna to the study to brief her on their progress with her paperwork. Jennifer didn’t see her until after when the family watched a movie together. That evening, they made popcorn and slushies. Zormna sat silently in the corner of the couch, absorbed in her own thoughts.

When Jennifer lay down to sleep, with Mindy snoring in the other bed, it was to the murmur of her parents in the study below discussing the details of Zormna’s paperwork and all the legal matters surrounding it. Zormna had already gone to bed, barely able to keep her eyes open during the movie. And though Jennifer tried to sleep, her mind remained busily analyzing the events of the day. So much of it had been way too weird.

By the time Jennifer’s thoughts finally drifted into sleep, she only had one thing on her mind. The night before, when she had wished on one of the falling stars for something exciting to happen, she had hoped for something romantic between her and her boyfriend Kevin. Something to make their relationship stronger. But not this.

Now, she hoped her boyfriend didn’t have a taste for blondes.

 

[1] The highest IQ recorded is 300, supposedly. 70 and below is mentally…slow.

 

Chapter Four: Breathe In. Breathe Out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I like work; it fascinates me; I can sit and look at it for hours.”—Anon—

 

 

Zormna was not happy.

Yes, the McLennas had been hospitable. And lenient. And patient. It had been a bit of good fortune meeting Jennifer McLenna. Zormna’s best friend, Salvar, always used to say she had the best luck.

Peh. Luck. Total nonsense.

The only luck she ever had was bad.

Parents killed. Uncle gone. Now a great aunt she had never even met…but who had been her last hope—murdered. And now she was living with strangers whom she knew very little about. It was downright dangerous.

Zormna stared at the ceiling of the dusty attic room that Sunday morning, breathing in and breathing out the stale air—trying to psych herself up to get out of bed with a good attitude. Having a good attitude was never her strong point. Not that she was a complainer. But recently she had plenty of reasons to be pessimistic.

It wasn’t a demotion, Zormna told herself. Salvar was simply substituting for her while she was away for, oh, an undermined duration. He would tell everyone that she was out on special projects while he took over her position. So that was what she had to tell herself. This was just a special project….

Zormna moaned. Who was she kidding? This was banishment. Her high commander, the Kevin, was probably angry with her about that last sneaky bit with Alea Arden. She hadn’t exactly gone against his orders. Technically. Not in the strictest details at least. But obviously the Kevin didn’t like hair-splitting when it came to rules. But she had been going out of her mind at the time, and she had to get out and talk to Arden.

But even that was a lie. Zormna knew it in her gut that the Kevin really wasn’t punishing her. And that made her sick with terror.

It was time to run again. To hide. But how was she to be safe when They had found her great aunt?

She breathed in deep. Then let it out again. Once more in and once more out. You can do this, she told herself. You can do this.

“Zormna. Wake up!” Mindy knocked on the door. Her cheerful, innocent voice chimed like the best sort of alarm clock. From the second they met, Zormna had liked the girl. The kid was smart, witty, and wasn’t nosy like Jennifer was. Not that Zormna disliked Jennifer exactly. But Jennifer was like most girls—she cared too much about the opinions of others. So much, in fact, that Jennifer probably would change everything about herself to fit in with the crowd. Oh, and she was constantly thinking about boys. Well, that last part Zormna had guessed. Jennifer had mentioned a boyfriend like she was bragging.

“Hurry and get up! You gotta have breakfast before church!” Mindy knocked again, a little sharper.

Zormna rolled out of her bed then crawled to the door, unlatching it. She pushed it open, gazing puzzled at Mindy. “Church?”

Mindy grinned wide upon seeing her.

“That’s right.” Mindy’s mother passed by the door, nodding. Mrs. McLenna was wearing a flowing flower print skirt with a white blouse. Her feet were in sensible, yet feminine shoes, legs in tan pantyhose. “Come down for breakfast. You can borrow a dress from Jennifer for church—after a shower.”

A shower, Zormna agreed with. But she flinched at the rest of it. “A dress? I do not wear dresses.”

Mr. McLenna came out of their room next. He smirked, tucking his tie. He carried his suitcoat over his arm. “Ok then, wear a skirt. I’m sure Jennifer has one you can borrow.”

“I do not wear skirts either.” Zormna bristled.

Jennifer emerged from her room at the sound of Zormna’s voice. She gave Zormna one of those what are you doing now, weirdo looks.

“You will for this,” Mr. McLenna said, his voice becoming stern. He was pulling rank, his eye stiff.

But this was a matter of principle. “I most certainly will not. Dresses are an archaic waste of material.”

“Oh, yes you will,” Mr. McLenna said, not backing an iota. “We aren’t leaving you at the house alone, so you have to get dressed and come with us.”

“Stop talking to me like I am a child!” Zormna shouted. “I do NOT need adult supervision, and I will NOT be wearing any absurd outfit!”

“A dress is what respectable ladies wear.” Mr. McLenna marched to the end of the hall, staring down at her. “Stop being so stubborn.”

Zormna glowered at him. “I am not being stubborn! I have my standards! I do not wear dresses or anything like it. They are impractical. And they put women at a disadvantage.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There is nothing impractical about it. It is formal dress. Besides, we don’t run around in church.”

Zormna huffed.

She noticed, however, Jennifer turning around to go back into her bedroom, her eyes wide as she escaped the argument.

“It is a uniform, which young ladies wear for special occasions,” he said.

Uniforms. Ugh. Zormna slumped in her doorway, resting her head on her knees. Why did he have to use that word? It made lousy sense. Lousy, because not all uniforms were practical.

She clamped her mouth shut to keep herself from cursing at Mr. McLenna. It was not wise to bite the hand of her host. Shouting at him had already pushed it.

“The fact is, a lot of things are going to be extremely different from the way you know them,” the father continued his lecture. His breath smelled strongly of some kind of herb Zormna was not familiar with. “Now I suggest you suck it up and get used to it.”

Jennifer came out of her room with a blue shirt and a jumper dress. It had adjustable straps. She probably chose it to compensate for their height difference like she had with the short pants the day before. Zormna didn’t like that everybody was a taller than her except for Mindy and Andrew. Feeling small did not help how trapped she felt.

“Thank you, Jennifer.” Her father took the jumper and handed it to Zormna. “You can wear this.”

Zormna gave the jumper a quick look-over, refusing to take it. She clenched her arms tighter across herself.

Mr. McLenna laid the jumper over Zormna’s knees anyway. “Be dressed by nine. We are all leaving then.”

Zormna said nothing. She clenched the dress just short of tearing it to pieces and stomped to the bathroom where she slammed the door. She shouldn’t have, but she had lost control of her temper.

Heaving in a breath, Zormna’s eyes lifted to all the knobs, fixtures, and large piping in the bath tub area. She had seen it yesterday with the same thoughts—antiquated and probably unsafe plumbing, it could explode on her. Immediately, she whipped around and yanked open the door.

Jennifer had not quite gone into her room. She was standing there in the hallway still, particularly flustered.

“I am so sorry,” Zormna said as contritely as possible, feeling her face grow hot in mortification. “That was rude of me. I know you are just trying to help.”

Jennifer met her gaze, fixing yet another judgmental look on her that Zormna read easily. It said: You think you are better than me, don’t you? And I know you don’t entirely mean what you are saying. Admittedly, Jennifer was right. Not all the time, of course. But when she was, she got so annoying. 

Trying for politeness, mostly to get what she needed, Zormna said, “Look, I am not trying to be difficult. I am just—”

“Born that way,” Jennifer said, folding her arms.

Zormna blinked at her. She was sure Jennifer was joking, and yet also serious.

“No,” Zormna protested, trying to be diplomatic. “Look, this is difficult for me. Can you just tell me how to work the shower, and I will leave you be.”

Jennifer snorted. “Turn the knobs, silly. You know how to work the sink.”

Zormna’s blush deepened, glancing back at the huge knobs. “Yes, but there are three.”

With such impatient petulance, Jennifer rolled her eyes and stomped into the bathroom, brusquely pointing at things. “H for hot. C for cold. The middle