Email: bstuller@splis.com
Category: Other, w/CC
Rating: TEEN – for subject matter at the beginning.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, just borrowing them. Promise to return them only slightly used.
Notes: This is kind of a strange story for me because I am a Spoiled Dreamer, but the idea of what happened to Zan Jr. (aka Spot) after the adoption intrigued me.
This story will not explain nor excuse anything that JK wrote. I am simply taking it, such as it is, and running with it. This is set 15 years in the future.
Caution: there is some violence in this story, particularly Part 1.
Thank you K_K for all your help and suggestions!
~
FORTUNATE SON (J.C. Fogerty)
Some folks are born made to wave the flag,
Ooh, they're red, white and blue.
And when the band plays "Hail to the chief",
Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord,
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no senator's son, son.
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no,
Yeah!
Some folks are born silver spoon in hand,
Lord, don't they help themselves, oh.
But when the taxman comes to the door,
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes,
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son, no.
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no.
Some folks inherit star spangled eyes,
Ooh, they send you down to war, Lord,
And when you ask them, "How much should we give?"
Ooh, they only answer More! more! more! yoh,
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no military son, son.
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, one.
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, no no no,
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate son, no no no,
~
Part 1
He looked down at his appointment book at his next meeting, Sam Connor. There was a time that a meeting with Sam Connor meant a long lunch and a couple of drinks and a cigar but not now. A drunk driver stopped those almost two years ago. He had been Sam Connor’s lawyer since the days he was a fresh from college kid working his way up in the financial world. He had helped him with corporate takeovers, mergers and acquisitions, and various legal challenges. When the time came, he also saw to his estate. It had been pretty straightforward. The business side was very well laid out. It was the personal side that was a mess. Sam had been in the middle of revamping that when it happened. He always thought there would be plenty of time.
They had been coming home from an evening at the Met. They were in the back of a big Caddy. Caddies were supposed to be safe, built like tanks. But even tanks could be destroyed. The kid driving his dad’s old Suburban had been out at a concert and partying with friends. He had a blood alcohol of almost twice the legal limit, plus he tested positive for coke. As was often the case, the kid only had a bump on the head and a broken collarbone while he managed to take the life of two people when he slammed into the back of that Caddy. Sadly, that wasn’t the worst of it though. No, the worst was that in that single action, he stripped away a beloved Mom and Dad of a 13-year-old little boy. A little boy that many considered fortunate, he had more wealth than most would have in a lifetime but he had no one other than advisors and lawyers, and an uncle that he didn’t like. It was a now 15-year-old Sam Connor Jr. that he would be meeting with this afternoon.
He looked at the light on his phone as his secretary buzzed him. His appointment was here. Pressing a button, “Send him in, Louisa.”
Standing up, he started to smile as the door opened but he faltered as the solemn boy walked in. The boy wasn’t alone, as he had expected. He looked hard at the boy, he looked lost and miserable and he had one hell of a shiner.
Looking up at the boy’s companion, he forced himself to be pleasant. David Connor had been a pain in the backside of his brother all his life. He was always looking for a hand out or a little cash to tied him over between jobs. With Sam Sr.’s untimely death, David had been handed the goose that laid the golden egg, guardianship of 13-year-old Sam.
As controller of Sam’s estate, now David Connor was a pain in his backside. Over the months he had worked hard to avoid David as much as possible, as he denied his numerous requests for increases in monthly allowances. He had taken very good and careful control of Sam’s vast investments and holdings, but looking at the shiner Sam sported he began to think that perhaps he hadn’t done nearly enough. He cleared his throat and did his best to remain professional, “So David. I wasn’t expecting you today. How are you doing, Sammy?”
David gave the boy a bit of a shove towards the chairs. He had been furious when he found out that with one phone call Sam had managed to get an appointment with this sleaze bag lawyer that held his brother’s money, while his own calls had gone unreturned for weeks. Of course he had only found out about this meeting this morning when he woke from his alcohol bender from the night before and realized that the kid wasn’t in school. The kid was always in school. He didn’t give a damn that he had to knock the information out him. The shiner was the kid’s own fault, anyways. He shouldn’t have fell against the tub like that when he was smacked. Taking a seat in front of the desk, “He’s doing fine, but he needs some stuff and lately that stuff is costing more, a lot more. Why by the end of the month, the cupboards are damn bare. You wouldn’t want to see Samuel Connor Jr. standing in a bread line at the end of every month, now would you, Simon?”
Simon looked at the boy. His heart hurt. Sam had always been a quiet boy, shy and sweet, honest, and kind. A boy that any mother would want their daughter to bring home, a boy that Sam and Carol Conner had been overjoyed to adopt. The boy had been a dream come true for them. Now he looked like a boy that was trapped in a nightmare. He comes from around the desk and pulls up a chair next to Sam, ignoring David’s frown. He gets right in Sam’s line of sight, even though Sam was busily studying the floor, “Sammy, is that why you’re here? To get your allowances increased?” Sam didn’t say a word, just nodded yes and continued looking at the floor.
He rubbed his hand over his mouth and chin in aggravation. He knew damn well that Sam would not come here asking for money. If it had been something that simple, he would have simply asked for it over the phone. He had always told Sam that if he needed any extra cash, all he had to do was ask. Sam never asked. He didn’t have to. The monthly allowance was more than sufficient. Sam knew that too. The boy was here for something else. Looking over at David, he knew damn well there was only one way to get the asshole out of here so he could talk to Sam some more.
Walking over to his desk, he flips on his computer. He opens the proper program and issues the instructions. He waits a moment then prints out the confirmation on his desktop printer. He makes another copy for his files then hands the confirmation to David. He did his best to keep the snarl out of his tone, “Here’s another ten grand. The check is at 1st National, you know the branch, it’s good until close of business today then it’s voided. You better hurry with afternoon traffic.”
Greedily grabbing the document he makes a motion to the boy to get up. Simon holds up his hand, “Don’t worry about Sam. I’ll drop him off tonight. I hate to eat alone and my partner isn’t in town tonight. I was hoping Sam would like to get a bite for dinner with me.”
David sneered at Simon. As far as he was concerned the fag could do whatever the hell he wanted with the brat, just so long as the payments kept coming. Shrugging, “Yeah, whatever.” Deciding that should at least sound parental, didn’t want him thinking he wasn’t taking care of the kid. He kicks the chair leg to get the kid’s attention. When Sam finally looks up at him, he glares at him, silently reminding him to keep his mouth shut about anything that went on at home, “So, see ya tonight. Not too late, school night.” He quickly turns and almost runs out, he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Lawyers and gays gave him the willies and this guy was a double whammy.
Simon waits until the door closes and he hears the faint echo of the front door opening and closing. Getting up and going to the well-stocked liquor cabinet, he fixes himself a martini and fishes out a 7Up for the boy. Handing him a glass of 7Up and taking a seat next to him, “He’s gone now, Sam. Tell me what you wanted. It’s ok.”
Sam took a sip from the glass, not really tasting it. He had been giving this a lot of thought. He wanted to stay loyal to Mom and Dad, but they were gone and he was alone. He knew that he had been adopted. They had never hidden it from him. They had told him all about how his biological family had gone to great lengths to make sure he went to a good home, all kinds of background checks and stuff. They must have cared about him to do that, they must have. He knew that Uncle Simon had always taken care of Dad’s legal stuff so he must know about it, about him. Bringing his soft amber eyes up to meet Simon’s, “Uncle Simon, do…do you know who I am? I mean you’re my dad’s lawyer. You handle all his legal stuff, like…like my adoption. Can you tell me where they are, my biological mom and dad?”
He had to take a few sips of his drink as he contemplates this. They had wanted a child so badly. They had tried for years to conceive then during an exam a tumor was found. By the time it was diagnosed it had already spread. The only thing that saved Carol was a hysterectomy. They then threw all their efforts into her recovery and making plans to adopt. Given Carol’s medical history adoption was difficult, especially for a healthy Caucasian infant. Their only option was a private adoption. They were making inquiries about it when out of the blue he had gotten a call from an old friend. He drained the rest of his martini then grabbed his jacket, “Come on Sammy. I promised you dinner, then we’ll talk.”
~
The restaurant was crowded as always but it was good food and reasonably priced, and very private for the right people. He slipped the waiter the correct amount and got a relatively quiet table in the back. The spinach lasagna was excellent as usual and Sammy scarfed down an entire pizza on his own. He had forgotten how much the boy loved red peppers. He took another sip of soda, “Sammy, I’ll tell you what I know but in return I want the truth from you. Starting with how you got that black eye?”
He wanted to tell him, he really did but…but if they took Uncle David away then he really would be alone. They couldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that yet, at least not until he found his other family. He could see them in his mind, they probably had been too young to keep him so they had to give him up but later on, yeah, later on, they had gotten married. He probably had lots of brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles, even grandparents. They were just waiting for him, just him. They wouldn’t care about his money, not like Uncle David, “ I slipped and hit my head on the bathtub. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
You could always tell so much from this kid’s eyes. They were so expressive, and right now they told him that Sammy was lying. He couldn’t help the disappointed look he gave him but decided not to push him too far. The kid needs help and he was afraid if he pushed now, the kid might stop trusting him. “Ok, but you might need an x-ray, make sure you don’t have a concussion or fracture or something.”
Sam shook his head carefully, trying not to wince. He still had a nasty headache, “I’m fine. Now… now it’s your turn.”
He waited until the waiter took their order for cheesecake and tiramisu, “Well, contrary to what you believe, I did not handle your adoption which for you is a good thing. If I had been involved in it as a lawyer, we could not have this conversation until you were 18. So here goes. I know that you were from New Mexico but I don’t know where. I just know that the lawyer and his wife that brought you to New York came from New Mexico. I was there when they brought you to your parents. I think they might have been friends of your parents or your parents' families. They seemed pretty attached to you. They went to extraordinary lengths to make sure you went to a good family. I got the impression that your parents had been young, very young, probably still in high school. That they were both healthy, no drugs or anything, that’s about it.”
Sammy frowned. It wasn’t much, “What about letters or something. Don’t…don’t they do that sometimes?”
Simon wanted to hug him. If ever a kid needed a hug this one did. He was grasping so hard at straws for a family, “Sammy, I’m sorry but this was a closed adoption, there was nothing like that. All ties were severed at that time.”
He wanted to cry. His dream family was shattering into a million pieces, “They…they didn’t care what happened to me afterwards. They didn’t want me. They just wanted to get rid of me.”
He scooted his chair around so he could put his arm around the boy, “Samuel, adoptions aren’t easy for birth parents. Sometimes…sometimes the only way they can deal with what they had to do was sever all ties. It’s just too hard on them otherwise. I do know that they made certain your adoptive parents were of good character and means, that they could provide you with a stable loving home and a good education. Like they knew that they weren’t going to know how you were doing so they made certain the placement was a good one. And it was. Your parents cherished you from the start.”
He wiped his eyes. He hated to cry. He had cried so much when his parents died, after a while Uncle David had started teasing him about being a sissy boy and a cry baby, “I miss them so much Uncle Simon. I just…I thought that maybe my birth parents might care about me and… and, I don’t know. I have this dream that there was this big, large family out there just waiting to welcome me with open arms… not just my money.”
All he could do tonight was hug him closer, “There are people that care about you. I do, you know that, right? And it’s not just about your money. I was your dad’s friend when he was working paycheck to paycheck and barely making ends meet and I’m your friend too. Sammy, this is important. If you need anything, anything at all, not just money, I want you to come to me. I’ll help you. I promise. You understand?”
He gave Uncle a Simon a quick hug then shook his head yes. “I think I should be getting home. I still have homework from yesterday to complete and school in the morning.”
~
Simon gazed up at the large upscale apartment building, he could make out that the lights were all on in Sam’s apartment. He had a knot in his stomach about this, “Sammy, you could stay with me tonight, if you want.”
Sam looked up for a moment then back to Simon, “No, that’s ok. This is home.” He gets out of the cab and looks back one more time, “Thanks Uncle Simon.”
Simon watched as the doorman opened the door for him. He waited until he saw Sammy disappear into an elevator before telling the cabbie to drive on. Tomorrow he will place a call to John Tennant. He hadn’t talked to John in years. John and he go way back. He had been the friend that had called him that day 15 years ago and told him about another friend of his that had an infant that needed a home, a good home. John should know that, that home wasn’t so good anymore.
~
Sam could feel the music thumping through the floor the second he stepped out of the elevator. They had the whole floor to themselves so there were no nosey neighbors to complain. As he neared the door to his home, he could hear it blaring at him. David’s nightly party was in full swing. At least he didn’t have to try and get to the kitchen for something to eat tonight. He could go straight to his room, lock the door and put on his headphones. It was his nightly ritual. He hated it. Mom had worked so hard and was so proud of the antiques she collected and silk tapestries that hung in the dining room. Now the tapestries had barf on them and soot from cigars and other things he knew was being smoked out there. A good part of the antiques were at the pawnshops or consignment shops in town. He hated it when David ran out of his party money. He hated the parties, the whacked-out strangers roaming right outside his bedroom, the drinking, the drugs, the never silent music, and the loneliness. He mostly hated Uncle David, the one that had brought it all into his home. But as long as the parties kept going, David left him alone.
~
Simon waited a day before calling John Tennant. He had to be careful about how he approached things. Legally John couldn’t tell him anything directly about the adoption so he decided on a more indirect approach. They were at a local bar, sitting at a table, smoking cigars and nursing their scotches, “So John, how are things going?”
John had wondered why Simon was calling him out of the blue like this. They hadn’t really talked in ages, then all of a suddenly a “let’s go for a drink” call. He wondered if Simon and his partner were looking to adopt. It still wasn’t easy for gay couples but it was possible. “Good, doing real good. Penny and I are looking forward to Joshua coming home from boarding school for the holidays. How are you and Gary?”
“We’re good. Gary’s import/export business is doing great. He returns tomorrow morning from Turkey. He had some great finds.” He takes a another sip of his drink as he decides to go ahead and plunge in with his plan, “John, I have a client that is looking to do some business in New Mexico. Don’t you have a friend that is a lawyer there? What’s his specialty?”
“Oh, you mean Philip Evans? Yeah, he’s still there. Still hangs his shingle out in Roswell. He’s a contracts lawyer. What was you’re client looking for?”
For some reason Simon wasn’t surprised that this Philip Evans was not in family law. So that means that his involvement in Sammy’s adoption was on the personal side. He was going to mention something to John about Sammy’s current domestic situation but now, now he already has a lead to the biological family, Philip Evans. Changing his plans at the last minute, “Oh yeah, that’d be perfect. He was looking to invest in a research and development project outside of White Sands. Sounds like Philip Evans might be a good one to take a look at those contracts, and make sure they comply with all the state and local requirements. Do you have his number?”
Whipping out his Pilot, “Yeah, I have it my Palm Pilot. If you have yours with you, you can just scan it.”
Checking to make sure it scanned correctly, they finish their cigars and drinks and went their separate ways. Simon wasn’t entirely sure if finding Sammy’s biological family was the best thing to do. They could turn out to be just a bad as David was, just a drain on the bank account. He could be opening a huge Pandora’s box by proceeding with this. Still, there was the memory of that shiner Sammy had been sporting the other day. That image just won’t go away.
~
Two days later he was in the privacy of his office, studying the report he obtained on Philip Evans, age 59, married 35 years, wife’s name, Diane, age 58, 2 children, boy Max, aged 34, girl Isabel, also age 34. Interesting that there’s not much on the kids after high school, almost like they had dropped off the face of the Earth. He wondered what had happened to them, and made a note to have the private investigator look into the kids’ whereabouts further. Everything he read was very normal. It was exactly what he expected to find, that just made him uneasier. It was almost too normal. By every account, Philip Evans was a damn fine contracts lawyer that had gone out of his way to remain unnoticed, under the radar. Lawyers usually wanted to get noticed, it helped to make a name, to advance, maybe even someday a judgeship. Philip Evans did none of that, “What are you hiding Philip Evans and why did you take such a personal interests in an adoption case fifteen years ago?”
He was startled out of his musing by his phone buzzing him. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Pressing the button, “Yes, Louisa?” “Mr. Sam Conner is here to see you, sir” comes the reply. “Send him in.” He hoped Sammy was alone this time. As the door opened he smiled at Sammy, the sole visitor. “Hello Sammy. How are you doing today?”
He was tired. David had been partying hearty since getting that ten grand earlier this week. He longed for the time when he could come home to peace and quiet. Home held neither for him now. Taking the offered seat, “I’m ok I guess. Kind of tired, up late a lot this week.” He can’t go on like this for much longer. He wants an escape, any escape. He takes the 7Up he’s offered, “Uncle Simon. Can you help me find them, my birth parents? I’ve been thinking about it and…and I don’t have anything to loose by trying to find them. Will you help me?”
Simon takes a seat and fingers the report sitting open on his desk, abruptly closing the folder, “Sammy, I’ve done some checking already. I found the lawyer that handled things from their side of the adoption, through him I should be able to track down your birth parents, but… you’re wrong. You potentially have a great deal to lose and I’m not talking just about money. Sammy, there are a lot of reasons people decide to adopt their child out. They may not be happy to have you looking them up, and you may not like what you find. You could get hurt.”
He had thought of that but until he knew for certain, there was always a chance that they might welcome him. Was it so wrong to want to feel loved and wanted again? “I’ll think about it. Uncle Simon, what’s his name, this lawyer?”
He could already tell by the look in his eye that Sammy was going to go looking, with or without him. It was better to be with him, that way he could look out for the boy’s interest and keep any additional circling vultures at bay, “His name is Philip Evans of Roswell, New Mexico. Sammy, I’ll help you but I want you to let me handle it, ok? Let’s not go blindly into something when we don’t have a clue what we might find.” He checks his watch and frowns, damn, he wanted to talk to Sammy some more about this but he’s got to run, “Sammy, I’ve got some people looking into things already. Let’s see what they come up with before doing anything else.” Rising and grabbing his coat and bag, “I have a plane to catch for a meeting in Brussels. I’ll be back on Tuesday. We should know more then and can talk about how to proceed, ok?” He gives the boy a hug and walks out of the building with him.
~
His home was unusually quiet when he walked in. It was odd. He glanced in the living room and spotted two people he didn’t know sleeping on the floor, amongst numerous beer bottles and fast food wrappers scattered all over. The housekeeper had quit not long after Uncle David arrived. He made his way into the kitchen, there wasn’t a lot in the refrigerator except beer and wine. He spotted a soda in the back and snagged it. Opening the freezer, he grabbed a frozen turkey potpie and stuck it in the microwave for three minutes. He was just taking it out and dumping it in a bowl when his uncle walked in, “Hey.”
David just looked at him. His mouth was dry from all the alcohol and his head was pounding. He was in a foul mood, made even worse by his current money problems. “Hey, yourself. So I was thinking. That picture of Sam and Carol, not too long before they died, she had some mighty nice looking rocks around her neck. No doubt she had more just like it. Where’d it go? It should be here, right? Unless that tightwad lawyer stole it.”
Sammy was eating very slowly. He could tell this was going to end badly. It always did when David started asking about things. It meant he was out of money and looking for something to hawk, but not this time, not his mom’s jewelry. Each piece Mom had was from Dad. David wasn’t going to get his hands on it. He couldn’t anyways, it was in a safe in Simon’s office but David didn’t know that. Something in him snapped, he was tired of being scared, tired of putting up with all of this crap, “No Simon didn’t steal anything, he’s not like you!” His defiance didn’t last long as David’s eyes grew narrow in rage and his hand went up in the air, ready to strike. Sammy flew from the table, knocking his chair over in his haste to miss the hand coming down to smack him. He ran. He needed to get to the safety of his room and lock the door before David caught up with him. He ran down the hall, he made it, now he just needed to get the door closed and locked. He could feel a weight starting to push on the other side of the door, trying to keep it open. They stayed that way for a few moments, each trying to push the door. It was no match, Sammy was still a just a kid. He was a bit of a late bloomer, just starting to hit puberty. The contest ended when the door to his room swung open, throwing him back and knocking him to the floor. David was on him in an instant, the blows landing all over, spreading pain wherever they made contact.
He was blind with rage. How dare this little brat back talk him, defy him like that! How DARE he! “You think you’re such a big man now, huh? HUH?” Smack across the face, again, and again, the upper arm, the shoulder, that smart mouth of his, “You think you can tell me what to do, huh, do ya? You know what they did to smart mouthed kids in my day?” He paused as he unbuckled his belt and slipped it off. Doubling the belt up, he started again on him, leaving welts and bruises.
He was beyond terrified. He had never been beaten like this. David had slapped him and smacked him around but never like this, never this bad. He had to make him stop, somehow. He didn’t know what he did or how he did it. He didn’t know that he could do it, but as he held out his hand a bluish energy suddenly appeared between him and his attacker. He gave that energy a good shove and David went flying back against the wall. When he finally started to lower his hand the energy disappeared. He staggered backwards both from the pain of the beating and the fright of what he had just done.
David’s eyes were huge with shock. He couldn’t believe it. What had that kid done? How had he done it? What was he? Backing up along the wall, he couldn’t reach the door fast enough, “You’re a freak. I’m going to report you to…to somebody. They’ll…they’ll come and cart you away. Freak, monster!” He was gone out the door, not looking back.
What had he done? He was terrified of what David said, but he was more terrified of what HE had done. He had to get out of here. He had to find someplace where he could be safe and think. He was trembling so hard he could barely pack his backpack. As the doorman hailed him a cab, he fished in his pocket and found only a fiver. Here he was, one of the richest kids in America and he barely had enough money for cab fare. There was only one place he could think of that he could get to on five bucks.
~
He had been in the shower when he heard the pounding at the door. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of who would be pounding on it that hard. He slipped a pair of sweats on and a t-shirt and went to check through the peep whole. All he could see was a baseball hat, a short baseball hat, suddenly the hat tilted up and he got a look at the hat’s owner. His jaw dropped open. Oh shit! He quickly undid the locks and opened the door and couldn’t help but stare at the kid. He looked like he had been hit by a Mack truck and he was literally shaking in his shoes. “My GOD! Sammy, what the hell happened? Who did this to you? You should be at the hospital.”
Stepping into the apartment, this wasn’t who he was expecting to be here. Looking around, “Gary, where, wh-where’s… S-S-Simon?”
He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, trying to help steady him. “Somewhere over the Atlantic right now. His plane was scheduled to land in about 5 hours in Paris, then a connecting flight to Brussels. I won’t be able to reach him for another 8 hours.”
Sammy ignored his pain and started pacing. He’s running on pure adrenalin and can’t stop. Still panting with fright as he walks the floor of the apartment and shaking his head, “I can’t. I can’t wait that long. He’ll find me. He’ll turn me in. I have to leave.”
He stops the boy before he makes it to the door, “Sammy, I know that we don’t know each other as well as you and Simon do but that doesn’t mean I’d let anything happen to you. Look, you need to calm down. You need to be able to think clearly. Come on, let’s sit down for a second.” He was tempted to pour the kid a brandy but decided on soda instead. He had to help steady the boy’s hands so he wouldn’t spill it. “Ok, that’s good. Now take some deep breaths. Come on, in and out, in and out. There, that’s good. Now try to relax and tell me what happened. Whatever it is, I’ll help you. I promise.”
He shakily hands the soda glass back to Gary, “W-w-we had a fight, David and me. He-he wanted my mom’s jewelry. We got into it. He was hitting me, then he took off his belt and started hitting me with it.” He took a big gulp of air as the tears threaten, “I… I don’t know what happened. I had this sort of…energy and I pushed him. He-he went flying against the wall. He’s going to call them and have me taken away. I…I’m a freak.” The tears’ saltiness stung as they spilled down his bruised and battered cheeks, “That-that must be why my birth family didn’t want me. I’m a freak and they knew it even when I was a baby.”
He puts his arms around the boy as he starts to sob in earnest. He’s still confused about what happened. It’s obvious that David beat the hell out of him. Simon will have that asshole behind bars for it soon enough, but he doesn’t get why Sammy thinks he’s a freak or why David would call the cops when it’s obvious that Sammy just shoved back to protect himself. He rubs his back gently, being careful of the welts and bruises, trying to sooth him, “Shh, shh, it’s ok, it’ll be alright. Shh.” It takes several minutes to get the boy to settle down. “Sammy, I need you to explain something to me. Why did you say you were a freak? Is it because of the extra energy? It’s not uncommon when people are scared or panicked to suddenly find themselves with strength and energy that they never knew they had. Didn’t anyone ever tell you about the little old lady that picked the car up off her husband after it fell on him?”
He’s so tired and wrung out. He could feel his energy draining away as that shot of adrenalin began to fade, “No, by energy I mean energy, as in a blue energy field, one that you can see and feel. I held up my hand to try and block the blows and…and it just appeared in between us. I…I pushed on it and it sent David flying against the wall. When I lowered my hand it vanished. David said I was a freak and that they’d come and take me away. He’s right. I am a freak. I shouldn’t have been able to do something like that.”
Gary just looked at him. He didn’t know what to say to that outlandish story but Sammy was never one to make up stories. Simon had always said he was very levelheaded kid that was smart as a tack. He wished Simon were here. Trying to think through everything. Supposing the kid was telling the truth, whatever he did to stop being beat would be self-defense. What could David Conner really do? What was it he had told the boy that he was going to call and have them come and take him away? “Sammy, who’s them? You said David was going to call them, do you know who’s he talking about?” Just then there was a knock at the door. The boy almost jumped out of his skin. He was terrified that whoever this them was, were here for him. Who knows, maybe it was ‘them’. Pointing down the hall, “Go wait in the bedroom while I see who it is.” He waits until the bedroom door closes before going to answer the front door. Peering out the peephole, he chides himself on just how worked up the kid had gotten him. Grabbing his wallet as he opens the door and takes the pizza box, “So what’re the damages again?” Handing over a twenty, “Keep the change.” Calling out down the hall, “It’s ok. It