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The Deceived
experiences or the revelation of who she was or the incredible
power beckoning to her.
Mom had said she would not let Becka see Maxwell again.
She had made that crystal clear as they fought and argued over
their dinner of macaroni and cheese. But no more Maxwell
meant no more hypnotism. Which meant no more clues. Becka
sat in silent frustration. Then, slowly, gently, a thought crept into
her mind.
Maybe . . . maybe Becka didn t really need him. The book
she had checked out of the school library and that she d been
reading all evening said she could obtain the same state of
higher consciousness she d experienced in hypnotism on her
own. It was just a matter of relaxing and clearing one s mind.
Weren t those the exact same words Maxwell had used?
She flipped to the page of a woman practicing this higher
state. Following the example of the picture, she crossed her
legs, sat up straight, and touched the middle finger of each hand
to its opposing thumb. So far so good. Now it was just a matter
of relaxing and clearing her mind.
Easier said than done. It seemed every time she closed
her eyes, a thousand thoughts tumbled in. Without someone
like Maxwell to direct her, it would be very difficult.
Difficult but not impossible. It could be done. The book said
so. She sat there, trying again and again until, gradually, she
was able to push aside her thoughts and concentrate only on her
breathing . . .
In . . . and out . . . in . . . and out . . .
Slowly she emptied her mind.
In . . . and out . . . in . . . and out . . .
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Until every thought was gone. Now her mind was empty, a
blank slate. There was only her breathing.
In . . . and out . . . in . . . and out . . . and the now-familiar sen-
sation of falling backward through layer after layer of color.
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Bill Myers
It could have been minutes; it could have been hours. She
wasn t sure. But, slowly, the light appeared. It hovered in front
of her and above. When she looked at it, it would fade. But when
she stared straight ahead, keeping her mind empty and not forc-
ing it, the energy grew brighter and brighter until it was finally
so strong she knew it was no longer just inside her head. She
knew the light had somehow entered the room!
She opened her eyes.
Yes! There it was! Just above the foot of her bed. It contin-
ued to brighten. As its energy increased, so did its power. Becka
could feel it blowing against her face. But it did more than blow.
As it touched her face, she could feel it saturate her body.
Once again a dark passageway formed in the center. And
once again she saw a man.
Maxwell.
He turned to her and smiled. She smiled back.
The light grew. It filled the entire room. She could feel the
power invading her, surging through her body. She started to
laugh. She couldn t help herself. The feeling was too pure, too
intense.
Maxwell laughed too.
From inside the tunnel, he reached his hand out to her. This
time there would be no interruptions. This time she would take
his hand and the power would finally be hers . . . she would be
absorbed into it, and it would be absorbed into her. The two
would become one. And with that oneness would come such
energy, such strength, that no one would ever doubt her again.
She would belong to power, and the power would belong to her.
Becka raised her arm toward Maxwell. The energy surged.
It had a sound. A roar. Like the train. She could feel and hear it
thundering inside her.
Their hands drew closer, fingers nearly touching. She was
losing control. Good. Finally, she would be able to give herself
over to the power. Completely. Without reservation.
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The Deceived
But something stopped her. A noise. A . . . knocking.
Banging.
Becka! Becka! Open up! More pounding. Becka, open
up! It was her mother.
No! Not again!
She threw a quick glance at the door. The light dimmed.
No! Don t go! She focused back on it.
Beck! A different voice. Beck, it s Scott. We gotta talk!
She felt Maxwell s irritation, his displeasure. He began to
withdraw his hand.
No! Becka cried.
He hesitated.
She reached out both of her hands. Please? she begged.
Please!
There were a series of crashes at the door. Scotty was obvi-
ously trying to break in.
Please, Becka repeated, rising to her knees, reaching toward
the light.
It grew brighter. Maxwell began to smile.
Becky! Becky!
She barely heard.
Maxwell reached out his hand.
BECK!
Closer and closer they came.
BECKY!!
At last they touched. The power swept into her, enveloping
her. She gasped. Her eyes fluttered. She was losing conscious-
ness, being pulled into the center.
Suddenly the door exploded open.
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9
B
eck! Scott raced into the room. Mom was right behind.
The light disappeared. The power vanished.
Becka turned on them furiously. I was there! I had it!
Had what? Mom asked. Her eyes fearfully searched
Becka s.
Rebecca glared at her in contempt. The woman was so igno-
rant, so superstitious. But before she could answer, Scott jumped
in. I just talked to a friend of Z s. Mom s right about this rein-
carnation stuff. It s wrong real wrong. And this Maxwell guy,
he s like some sort of
I know exactly who he is, Rebecca snapped. He s a man with
more power than your little mind can possibly understand.
Becka! Mom scolded.
Well, it s true. Just because you don t understand something
doesn t make it wrong.
Maybe so . . ., Scott agreed, but this guy s bad news, Becka.
And his power s flat-out wrong.
She rose from her bed and stepped to the other side, keep-
ing it between them. What do you know about power? she
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Bill Myers
demanded. Have you ever felt it? Have you ever experienced
it?
Becka. Her mother took a step forward. It s not just
the
I was king! King of France!
Becka
And that s only the beginning. There s more for me more
than you can comprehend!
But it s counterfeit! Scott was practically shouting.
The phrase struck Becka in the chest. She turned on him.
It s what?
Maxwell Hunter s into the occult. He s a major-league player
in Eastern mysticism.
Becka started to tremble. Not with fear but with rage. Why
were they doing this to her? She d finally found something, a
way to be somebody, and now they were trying to take it away.
You re just jealous! she scorned. You re jealous cause I expe-
rienced something and you
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Honey, Mom interrupted. Just because you ve experienced
something doesn t make it
I saw things! I was there! I was Louis XVI!
They were illusions, Scott argued. They were hallucina-
tions that couldn t possibly be
They were not hallucinations! They were real! Becka s eyes
started to fill with tears. Why was he doing this? Why was he
taking away the only power she d ever had? I saw things! I saw
things only a person who had lived back then would know!
Only a person living then . . ., Scott said quietly, or a
demon.
What?! She couldn t believe her ears.
It s just like the Ouija board, Beck. The board knew stuff,
remember? From different places, different times. It knew stuff,
not because it had supernatural powers of its own, but because
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