Yesterday's Gone: Season Three (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER)

made sense to Luca before finally had their colors right. Things and people. Suddenly, and with ease, he could see the patterns in the world around him, and all the many things no one else could.
    Since the surgery, people seemed incapable of hiding their thoughts from Luca. Even when he didn’t want to hear them. His dad was able to do the same thing, had been able to for a long time, but not quite like Luca was able to, his dad had said.
    Now, Luca was learning to do other stuff. Stuff Luca didn’t understand. That’s what the tests and the room were for, and what all the people behind the mirror were waiting to see.
    Mr. Sullivan finished with the card part of the test and smiled. Luca could see the man’s colors start to change as his heartbeat gathered speed.
    This was the part of the test he really wanted to see, the part everyone behind the mirror cared about.
    Everyone already knew Luca could guess the spaceship and the carton of milk and the two girls skipping rope. Now they wanted to see the new stuff.
    Mr. Sullivan moved the stack of cards to the right, then traded them for a small metal box which he set in the palm of his hand. Mr. Sullivan looked up at Luca as he lifted the lid of the box, smiled, and drew a small silver ball from the inside.
    Mr. Sullivan held the ball in the palm of his hand, then closed the lid of the box, moved it to the corner of the table just beside the cards, and turned his full attention to Luca. “Do you know what to do with this?” he asked.
    Luca looked at Mr. Sullivan, then down at the ball. He said, “You want me to see if I can move it by using my mind.”
    Dr. Sullivan smiled. “That’s right, Luca,” he said. “Do you think you can do that?”
    Luca smiled because he knew he could. He’d already figured that out on his own a week ago.
    He narrowed his eyes in concentration, staring at the ball for several seconds before it lifted into the air and hovered three inches above Mr. Sullivan’s open palm.
    Mr. Sullivan beamed. Luca couldn’t feel his dad behind the mirror at the moment, but he knew he must be proud of him, just like Mr. Sullivan.
    “Can you lift it higher?”
    Luca smiled because he knew he could.
    He narrowed his eyes in concentration again. Two seconds later, the ball was floating nearly a foot above Mr. Sullivan’s palm.
    The man smiled wider, still holding his palm steady beneath the hovering ball. “Is that all?”
    Luca shook his head, smiling so wide his face nearly split into a laugh. He narrowed his eyes further, focusing. The ball stopped floating, then suddenly shot across the room in a zig zag, across the room and back, up and down from ceiling to floor, then across the room in several wide circles before returning to its soft and silent spin above the man’s palm.
    Luca then let the ball drop into Mr. Sullivan’s hand.
    Mr. Sullivan kept his face straight, but Luca could see his colors and he was very, very happy. Probably like his dad was on the other side of the mirror, even though Luca still couldn’t feel him.
    Luca laughed and clapped. His giddy “YAY!” screaming on repeat was enough to push the serious Mr. Sullivan into a bottomless laugh.
    “That’s enough for now, Luca,” he finally said, catching his breath. “Thank you.”
    “Did I pass?” Luca said.
    Mr. Sullivan smiled again, then said, “Your dad will tell you how you did.”
    Mr. Sullivan left Luca’s room and closed the door behind him. Ten minutes later, Luca’s dad came in.
    “We’re going home?” Luca said, grinning.
    His dad nodded, but looked upset. Luca couldn’t read him, and felt suddenly confused.
    “Is everything okay?” Luca asked.
    His smile was thin. Luca’s dad said, “Let’s go home and get you something to eat. We’ll talk then, okay Captain?”
    Luca said okay, even though his dad only called him Captain when he was trying to get him to do something he didn’t want to do, or had to tell him something Luca didn’t want to hear.

    **

    They quietly walked to their house on the island. Luca spent most of the walk hoping Boricio would be there when they got home, though Luca knew he probably wouldn’t be. The walk took ten minutes. One minute after that and Luca knew Boricio wasn’t home. Luca went to the bathroom, then washed his hands and went into the kitchen, where he sat on his side of the bar and watched his dad chop tomatoes and garlic.
    Luca sat in silence until the sizzle of garlic in olive oil filled the kitchen