Whispers From the Grave by Leslie Rule Page A

tell you before. Of course, Uncle Terry would have had my head if I had. He promised your mother no one would tell you the truth. She called Uncle Terry yesterday, really upset because you’d found but. She tried to get him to let you off the hook with the experiments.” She added wistfully, “I wish I had someone like that to care about me.”
    “You have your uncle Terry.”
    “Obviously, he’s not really my uncle. All my family died decades before I was even born. Dr. Grady makes me call him Uncle Terry because he thinks it will make me feel like I have a family. But he doesn’t really care about me. Especially since my PK ability hasn’t lived up to his expectations.”
    “So you were the baby who was raised by the scientists,” I said. “My mom said there was another frozen embryo. But I didn't realize it was you .”
    “I told you we’re alike!”
    “I guess we do have something in common,” I admitted.
    “Do you want to try the virtual reality computer? You could program in your real family and have a conversation with them.”
    The idea was appealing. My computer at home had a modem, so I was able to access all the family pictures without leaving the VR arcade simply by typing in our computer’s confidential code. The virtual reality computer recorded all the different angles of my family’s faces and fitted them on bodies in its own computer files.
    I had no idea what my family sounded like, so I used my voice as a guideline. The computer slightly distorted my voice to create voices for my mother and sister. I let the random selector pick voices for my dad and brother.
    Then I selected a previously written “happy family gathering” program, and set it in a park.
    After asking Suki to wait for me outside, I shut the door and said, “Computer, begin program.”
    Lush green trees sprang up around me as a fragrant summer breeze filled the air. Birds chirped and golden sun rays fell upon the clearing where I stood.
    “Jenna, where are you?” a soft voice called. An instant later, my mother—my real mother—stepped through the trees, a wicker picnic basket dangling from her arm. She smiled at me. It was the same face from the frozen photographs, but now it was animated. Alive!
    Her eyes twinkled and blinked, her chest rose and fell with her breaths, and a strand of soft brown hair blew across her face with the breeze.
    “Mother?” I whispered,
    “You found a great spot for our picnic,” she said and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Steven! Rita! Jim! Come see the wonderful spot that Jenna has found for us.”
    The rest of my family burst upon the scene, laughing happily.
    “Rita!” I cried at the sight of my sister.
    “What, Jenna?” she asked as she knelt beside the picnic basket, spreading out a checkered tablecloth. I studied her profile as she turned her head and pointed up at the tree. “Did you see the squirrel, Jenna? Maybe he’d like some potato chips.”
    “It’s like you’re really here,” I said in awe. “It’s so real.”
    She grinned at me as the breeze lifted her long hair off her neck.
    “But you’re not real, are you?” I asked.
    “Of course we are,” Rita said.
    “No! You’re dead. You can’t be real.”
    “Don’t be silly,” she replied, but I knew it was only the computer, talking for her.
    “How could you have lived your whole life without knowing me?” I asked, as tears warmed my eyes. The three figures stared at me, still grinning.
    “Wipe those stupid smiles off your faces!” I cried. “Answer my question!”
    “How about a piece of pie?” my mother asked, slicing into a plump apple pie.
    “Answer my question! Why did you die without knowing me?” I demanded, my voice rising in fury. The figures around me froze. The breeze abruptly ceased and the sun faded.
    “Anger inappropriate for this program,” a high-pitched computer voice interrupted. “Would you like to select another mode?”
    “No,” I said. “Forget it. End the