IDA First Chapter

Chapter One

         
Amy walked through the ballroom, looking at the tables.  Today was the job faire at her college, and she was looking for a career opportunity to catch her eye.  Shifting her backpack, heavy with library books for her final projects, she glanced down at the pamphlets she held, along with the miscellaneous pens and key chains that the different jobs were giving away.  None of them were very interesting.  She didn’t know exactly what she wanted, but she was picky enough to know what she didn’t.  The only reason she had dropped by the tables was for back-up, in case she didn’t find anything worth her while.  Plus, some of the pens were nice.  And one can never have too many pens.
         
She had been excited for the job faire, but now that initial feeling was all but gone.  College was just about over and now it was time to enter the real world, to start her life.  Sure, school was fun, to an extent, but she was looking forward to having a career; not having to study for classes she didn’t care about.  She wanted to do what she wanted to do.  Problem was, she wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to do.
         
She had some ideas, of course.  She wanted excitement, a career that made her think.  No desk job for her.  All of her acquaintances had the belief that she would go into professional swimming, but she didn’t want to.  The idea of having her job security based totally on physical ability was one she didn’t enjoy.  She had swum for her school because she wanted to, not to mention the scholarship opportunity.  It wasn’t hard for her, but she didn’t want something she loved to do to one day be twisted into just a job, something to pay the bills.  Her coach was none too happy with her, but that was his problem.  Plus, where was the intellectual stimulation?  Swimming only exercised a person’s body, not their mind.
         
There was another reason why she wanted a steady job, one not rooted in sports.  She wanted a home, a real home.  Having been an orphan, she’d never had one.  For ten years she lived in the orphanage, and then the dorms.  She had taken summer courses so as to have an excuse to stay at the school.  She had worked in the college's library, so she could have some pocket money, and just in case she was kicked out of the dorms, she could move in with roommates.  But now, she was ready for her own apartment, to live on her own.  For as long as she could remember, she had had to share a room with at least one other person, in the orphanage and at school.  Though, she wasn’t sure if she had her own room before she could remember.
         
Amy walked over to a chair along the wall, setting her backpack down beside her, her long silvery blond hair spilling over her shoulders.  She opened it to put her pamphlets inside, just to give her hands something to do, but her mind was elsewhere, falling into the all too familiar habit of trying to break whatever block she had on her memory.
         
She had lived in the orphanage for only ten years, from when she arrived to when she left for college.  She wasn’t a child prodigy, though she did graduate early, her junior year.  No, she was dropped off at the orphanage when she was 7 years old.  No one knew why, and that included herself.  She was discovered with her memory gone, her blue eyes wide with fear; she didn’t even know her own name.  She was named Amy, because when she arrived she was raving slightly, and the name she called herself sounded something like it.  At least, that’s what her caretakers told her.  She had no recollection of even that.  She had no idea what her last name was, who her parents were, where she was born, when she was born.  She didn’t even have a birthday.  That’s rough for a kid, not having a birthday.
         
She had gone to a public school.  The caretakers thought she’d have to be home schooled to catch up with the other kids, but to their delight, she already knew how to read and write, and how to do math.  Her intelligence was actually higher than the other children.  Though this would come to her advantage later in life, it didn’t do her any good as a child.  In the public school, things were bad enough that she didn’t have any parents.  The others teased her for that alone, but to put on top of that her love of reading, her adolescence was made for disaster.  She didn’t have to deal with it too long, though.  The bullies let her alone when they found out she could fight back, though not the way they expected.
         
Amy leaned back in the chair, frowning at the memory.  She had accidentally almost drowned one of her bullies, and not in the normal fashion.  When the boy pushed her, she pushed back, angry.  Her anger gave her more strength than she realized, and the boy had fallen into a puddle.  That humiliation wasn’t enough, apparently.  The boy had almost drowned in the small amount of water.  A teacher had to rescue him from the puddle.  No one knew what happened; Amy was punished only for pushing.  The boy was ridiculed for being bested by a girl, and the other bullies left her alone.  Unfortunately, the incident had made it so the other children avoided her too.  So, her friends were books, and some of the orphans, though those friendships never lasted too long, since all the other children were adopted or put into foster care.  Only she stayed.
         
Amy sighed, opening her eyes and closing her bag.  That incident had been one of many like it.  Things that she could do, but she didn’t know why.  Water seemed to be the trigger for most of it; she had once been hit in the head with a stray basketball at a public pool and had been knocked out, but hadn’t drowned.  Not a single drop of water in her lungs.  The life guard had been astonished that no CPR had to be administered, since Amy was breathing fine when she was pulled out.  All she needed was ice for the bump.
         
She had also been able to feel things, notice things.  A shiver down her spine in a dark room, or knowing that she wasn’t alone on a deserted street, even though she could see no one.  Along with water, the night seemed to have a profound impact on her.  Especially when she could see the stars above her, a rarity when one lives in the city.  She had chosen a country college specifically so she could see the stars at night.
         
Standing up, she headed back to the tables for one more sweep.  She did have one major criteria for any job she chose; it had to give her the chance to figure out why she was different.  She had been afraid of her power; she started learning how to fight after the puddle incident, so that if she was ever again engaged in a fight, she could finish in the normal manner, with her fists.  In any case, she didn’t know how a job could help her with her problem, but there was the motivation anyway.
         
She didn’t know exactly what type of field she wanted to enter.  Her dream of being a folklorist was given up her sophomore year.  She had always had a fascination with fairytales, even into her teens, though she kept that to herself.  And although now she still loved the stories, she realized that studying them for the rest of her life wasn’t exactly as exciting as she had once thought.  From there she had looked around, trying to find a major that she would enjoy, and settled on communications with a minor in English.  Rather dull, but all she needed was a degree, and it didn’t really matter in what.  Plus, the college didn’t offer any majors in detective work.
         
Amy smiled to herself, reveling in her fantasy.  She wanted to be a detective.  Or, at least something that was like it.  She loved problem solving.  And part of that was probably because she had always been good at it, which she attributed to her heightened senses.  She noticed things other people didn’t.  She may not have known why, but she was smart enough to realize that you have to use what you’ve got.  Which was why she wanted to find a job that could teach her how to control her abilities.
         
She meandered through the tables, fighting her way amongst the other students in the small ballroom.  Every table was surrounded by a throng of students.  Well, all but one.
         
Amy stopped, looking through the crowd.  There was only one table that was being left alone, tucked away in a corner.  It was blank, with just a woman sitting behind it.  The only adornment it had was a table cloth down to the floor.  No key chains or pen giveaways.  There weren’t even any pamphlets set out.  She assumed that because there was no business name that that was why it was being ignored.  But as she looked around, she noticed no one even looking towards it.  No one walked by it.  It was like it was being avoided.  No, she amended, not avoided.  It was like it didn’t exist.
         
Amy was intrigued.  Fighting her way through the throng, she headed towards the table.  The woman behind it lazily read a magazine.  She was in a suit, with short, perfect hair, and astonishing features.  From where Amy stood, she couldn’t see any specifics like eye color, only noticing how all around beautiful this woman was.  The mystery to why no one came to this table deepened; there should have at least been a throng of horny frat boys hitting on this attractive woman, even if they didn’t care what type of job was offered.
         
Amy walked up, hearing the woman humming absently to herself as she flipped a page.  She stood there, waiting to be acknowledged, but the woman continued humming and reading.  Eventually Amy cleared her throat.
         
The woman looked up, astonished.  She scrunched her eyes, a look of suspicion on her face.  She lifted her hand, and Amy thought that she was going to wave it in front of her, when suddenly she stopped, looking down at the table, as if hearing something.  She put down her hand and smiled up at Amy.
         
“Well, this is a surprise,” she said, with a voice that held a hint of laughter.  “I didn’t expect anyone to come to the table.  I thought it silly to even come to this, since every faire we’ve gone to, no one has ever approached our table.  But, the boss is the boss, and he says we go to every job faire, just in case.  Pointless, I thought.  But, here you are.”
         
Amy blinked, not knowing what to say.  She met the woman’s eyes (which were a very sharp green, standing out all the more because of the woman’s impeccable makeup), and started to smile.  She didn’t know why, she just felt she had to smile at this woman’s good humor.  “Uhm, I was interested in knowing why any table in this tiny room would be completely devoid of students.”
         
The woman laughed, clapping her hands.  “This is amazing!  I’m so excited that you have come up to it.”  Her face sobered slightly, and again she looked down at the table, as if listening to a voice only she could hear.  She rolled her eyes.  “Oh, alright.”  She looked up at me, a more professional look on her face, although Amy could still see the laughter in her eyes.  “So, you were interested?  Is it out of just pure intrigue that you came up here, or are you looking for a job?”
         
“Well, I am looking for a job, in general, but that isn’t really why I came up here,” Amy answered.
         
“Really?  Why would you bother coming up to a table at a job faire if you weren’t even interested in a job opportunity from that employer?”
         
Amy raised an eyebrow.  “I guess you have a point.  But, you have nothing to signify what company you’re representing.”
         
The woman smiled.  “And you have a point.”  She looked under the table.  She sat back up, holding a clipboard and a pen in her hand.  She poised the pen.  “I can answer some of your questions if you’d like.  Why don’t you take a seat?”  She motioned to a chair next to her at the end of the table.  Amy sat down, putting her backpack at her feet.  The woman tensed for a moment, then relaxed.  Amy wondered at that.  Maybe she was afraid of me looking under the table, Amy thought.  But why?
         
Amy sat back, even though her fingers itched to lift the table cloth to see what was under it.  Maybe she could ask.
         
“Now,” the woman asked, “what is your name?”
         
“Amy,” Amy replied.
         
“Last name?”
         
Amy squirmed in her seat.  “I don’t really have one.  But you can put down Amy Horton.”  Amy made a face at the name.  For legal purposes, she needed to have a last name.  For those instances when one wasn’t provided, the orphanage would assign one based on children’s stories.  At least she wasn’t given the name Puddleglum.  A boy a couple years younger than her had the misfortune of being assigned that last name.  Luckily, he was adopted, and so didn’t have to keep it.  Amy had always thought that whatever caretaker had decided that would be a good surname had a cruel sense of humor.
         
The woman jumped, and then glared down at the table, as if someone had kicked her under it.  The itch became stronger, but Amy held back.  The woman looked back up and smiled.  “My name is Gwyn.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
         
Amy smiled back.  The woman’s smile was incredibly infectious.  Gwyn looked down at the clipboard.  “Now, what type of job are you looking for, Amy?”
         
Amy took a quick look at the clipboard, trying to glimpse what was written on it, like a company name or logo, but Gwyn held it artfully out of sight.  “What type of job is it that you offer?”
         
Gwyn wagged a finger at Amy.  “Now, now.  How about you tell me what it is you’re looking to do, and I’ll tell you whether or not we can accommodate you.”
         
Amy shrugged to herself.  Why not?  None of the other jobs had been worth her while.  Maybe this will be, maybe it won’t.  Even if it isn’t, I won’t be any worse than before, she thought.  “I’m really looking for a job that involves problem solving, and a little excitement.  And hopefully not behind a desk.”
         
Gwyn began to look excited, nodding to herself and writing on the clipboard.  Maybe not to herself, Amy thought as she glanced down at the table, scratching her palm.  “What type of problem solving?  I mean, do you wish to piece together dinosaur bones, or study the differences in DNA structure?  Surely you must have some idea of what type of puzzles you want to put together?”
         
Amy glanced down at her hands.  She had never told anyone about her secret ambitions.  Part of it was because she had never had close enough friends to ask her what she wanted to be when she grew up.  She had gone out with her dorm roommates, but never had developed strong friendships.  She felt awkward letting anyone into her fantasies.  She was also afraid of ridicule.  Being teased as a child can do that to you.  She looked up and caught Gwyn’s eye.  The woman looked interested in what she had to say; she wanted to know.  Amy got the feeling that her interest wasn’t purely for writing down her answer on her clipboard, but as if she were really interested in her ambitions.  Amy’s inhibitions lessened, slightly.  Oh, what the hell, she thought.
         
“Detective work, actually.  At least, that’s a dream.  I wouldn’t be surprised if it never really came true.”
         
Gwyn practically jumped out of her chair.  She seemed to be doing a dance while sitting as she wrote furiously on her clipboard.  “Excellent, excellent!”  She thumped the table, and then made a face.  “Sorry.”  Amy got the impression she wasn’t talking to her. 
         
Gwyn leaned down again and came up with a purse, looking for something.  She found it, put the purse down, and then turned back to Amy.  “I believe we can offer you something, Amy.”  She passed her a business card.  It read “Intuition Detective Agency.”
         
Amy looked up in surprise.  How could she be so lucky?  “Are you offering me a job?”  She asked, barely able to keep her excitement in check.
         
Gwyn nodded.  “Practically.  We have a couple of formalities to take care of, but I don’t see why you can’t be employed by us, that is, if you want to.”
         
“Oh, I’d love to!”  Amy said, her joy leaking out into her voice.  “This is the first job I’ve come across today that isn’t a plan B opportunity.”
         
Gwyn laughed.  “Excellent!  Well, all we need now is to set up an interview time.  I’m not the boss, you realize, and so can’t hire you here and now.  However, there really is no reason why you would be turned away by him.  Now, what time would be best for you?  Would tomorrow be sufficient?  Or would you like to come in after graduation?”
         
Amy opened her mouth to agree to tomorrow, but then realized that after graduation would probably be most prudent.  It was in two days, so it wouldn’t be that much longer to wait.  Plus she’d be able to walk into the interview with a degree under her belt, increasing her likelihood of being hired.  Even though Gwyn assured her she was practically a shoo-in, Amy was a realist.  Very few people were accepted into the first job they put in an application for, and practically no one only put in one application with the hopes of getting that job.  She would be doing that, but she had some money saved up so she had about a month to figure out what she was going to do for a job.  If this fell through, she could always open one of the plan B pamphlets.
         
Decision made, she answered Gwyn.  “Day after graduation.  So in three days.  Is there any particular time that would be best for your boss?”
         
Gwyn made a dismissive noise.  “Whenever is fine.  How ‘bout noon?  A nice even time.”

Amy agreed, and after having given Gwyn her phone number, they both stood, shook hands, and Amy walked away.  She was so excited that she forgot about her curiosity of what was under the table.  She was already across the ballroom, and turned to see if she could get a glimpse of the table.  She looked back at the corner, but to her astonishment, the table was gone.