Chapter 5

  The earth was dry and the soil was hot, cracking under their weight as they moved. The rainy season had grown shorter for decades. Each of the steps through the dry bush crumbled decaying leaves and snapped dry branches. Her trunk dangled as she walked moving back and forth across the ground grabbing anything edible that might be in her path. She would bring anything with nutritional value to her mouth and gnaw upon it until anything useful had been stripped away.

  She looked up at the sky and could see the gray clouds above. They drifted slowly past. The scent on the air was the same as when lightning strikes in the savanna dry brush and brings flames that consume everything in their path before winter. These clouds bring no rain and very little respite from the heat.

  These clouds create fewer fires than those that bring rain. The clouds seem to gather near or around the upright apes. Her thoughts continued to fixate on the apes, the clouds, and the fires until she almost ran into the matron, breaking from her position in the line. She stopped and focused as the elder woman looked cautiously about the path before them, searching for landmarks or predators she was sure. She looked around to see if there was anything she could help locate, anything that was familiar or threatening. When her gaze returned to her mother she saw the real reason she had called them all to a stop, in the tears streaming down the elder’s face.

  She watched the tears for a moment and fixed her stare to match her mother’s. There she could see the distant bones of her grandmother. Her mother was stopping to pay respects to the deceased former matron of the herd. Her own eyes welled up as she thought about the many years her grandmother led them through this journey.

  She looked back and saw the rest of the herd moving in close. Their numbers were fewer than they have been in generations. Many of them have had to be left behind, as food has been growing too scarce and some have just given up rather than burden the rest of the family with their needs.

  There was nothing anyone could do but wait with them. Sometimes the need to move is greater than the need to comfort those that have given up. Her grandmother had been one of the first. She would always allow everyone else to eat what was there before she would take for herself. She would do this if the food was scarce, and it has been for years.

  Her mother began moving again. She moved toward the remains of her mother. Each step she took her sobs became louder. The crying from all those around her rose as well. The herd wept as it stood around the bones and brushed away the earth and sticks that covered them.

  She allowed her tears for as long as they came. When she stopped she would move into the ranks and cuddle and hold any that still wept.

  As she looked around the area, she saw that it had drastically changed from those years before. A few trees stood on the horizon, a few mounds of boulders covered earth. There was hardly any life around her and as the sun is beginning to set, she sees no grass that isn’t brown. The patches she did see were tiny and far between.

  Her heart sank when the matron held the herd there through the night, the scent of the ash and smoke filled her thoughts as she slept. Her dreams were wild, fearful, and broken. When she would awaken, that scent of the ash would return her thoughts to the apes and her questioning of what they might have to do with the scent of smoke. Looking around the night she could see pockets of light on the horizon toward the scent of smoke. Her sleep was restless throughout the night.

  In her dreams she caught strange scents. Things that were only a step away, but just out of reach. Her thoughts felt clouded. She felt like she was moving, somewhere. A light was flashed across her minds-eye and her thoughts fluttered. She was not there, but not here either. She could hear something.

  When she awoke her leg felt heavy. She was holding a tree that had been chained to her tusks. She was confused, in a daze. Her instincts cried out to run, she needed to run. She didn’t have the energy. No, she didn’t have the focus, she couldn’t get herself to run.

  The apes were all around her. Some were moving with large handfuls of grass that they pulled out of containers all around her. It was just her. She was alone. She looked all around her in a fog. She saw a tall, straight wall surrounding her. There was water in some of the containers as well. Her trunk trembled slightly as she reached out and touched the cool liquid. She drew in a trunkful and poured it over her head. She shoved her face into the water and took several deep swallows. Her throat was so dry; she was so parched that each gulp was like throwing water on dry earth.

  She was groggy, but she had water and food. All of that, yet something felt so wrong. Her family. No. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach.

  Robert had dressed and gotten ready for the day. He took a small container from the mini-fridge in his room and tossed some meal worms into the terrarium for his bearded dragon. This was a Saturday, which also happened to be a day off for him this week. He had been thinking about the beach for a few days and today seemed like the perfect time to just take out a board and play in the waves.

  The pier was packed with people from all around this and the neighboring cities. Young people in bathing suits laying out on their towels across the sand and children with their parents wading in the water or building sandcastles were all around. The place was packed.

  Robert placed his board down, set up his towel and cooler, and headed to the water in his board shorts. He threw his board into the water and jumped on to paddle out. Once out there, Robert laid back and watched the waves as they bobbed him up and down in the ocean. He placed his hands in and gently dangled them in the cool salty liquid of the sea. It wasn’t the clear blue from movies or from television, those scenes were always shot in Hawai’i or some other exotic location, never around Southern California, no matter how glamorous they make California out to be.

  As Robert laid there in the Pacific just enjoying the sun and the scent of the sea, he felt something brush his hand. At first he thought it was just a stray fish giving him a nibble, then it happened a second time. It was something much larger than just a fish. He jerked back his hand in a panic thinking it might be a shark. He looked over and looked into the green and brown water to see what was nudging him out of his rest.

  A dolphin’s face came into view as it broke the surface of the water and grinned up at him. Robert was dumbstruck as the huge animal stayed there staring at him as he sat upon his board. The dolphin bobbed in the water, it’s open mouth smile never wavering for more than a moment or two as it measured the man. He reached a hand out and softly stroked the creature’s head. The huge animal seemed to enjoy the attention and stayed with Robert for several minutes.

  When it left, Robert felt the pangs of sadness. Loneliness and loss filled his heart. He paddled out and grabbed a wave. He could see the dolphin racing alongside him for a time and then bolt away back out into the open ocean. For hours this pattern repeated: Robert would head out, the dolphin would play with him as he waited for the next wave and then it would race back out. When he would return, they would play again. It was exhilarating. Something impossible and amazing all at once.

  This was exactly what Robert had needed. A real rest to get his mind straight. Something miraculous to remind him that there is something greater than himself out there, something that reminds him that he is unique in the universe and insignificant at the same time. Nearing midday, Robert stopped on the water to rest on his board. He sat stroking the head of the dolphin as it bobbed next to him. There was something about the creature’s eyes as it looked at him. It would close its eyes and calmly allow him to stroke it’s head, even allowing him to probe around the little blowhole on the top.

  When he stopped and just left his hand resting on its brow, it would look at him with sad eyes. It was as if it knew their time was limited. Robert gave it one more long pet before a wave came in that he could ride to shore. He smiled at the dolphin and said, “One more race? I have to get home. We have time for one more race, you ready?” he asked aloud. The dolphin ducked under the water and scooted off back into the ocean as the wave began gaining momentum toward Robert.

  Robert paddled along with the wave before jumping onto his board. He saw the dolphin racing beside him. He rode the wave to shore and hopped off before the board scratched sand and stone. He took the board up and started out of the water. When he looked back he saw the dolphin gazing back from the water a few dozen yards away. Robert smiled wide at the animal and waved. The dolphin bobbed in the water as he left and eventually just dove under. As Robert stored his cargo in his Jeep, he was nothing but smiles, as was the case the entire way back to his condo.

  “Vitamin sea.” His cousin had once told him while they were fishing in Hawai’i. There was nothing better when you were feeling down. The color of the water that was so sapphire blue that had you not seen it with your own eyes, you would likely believe it was photoshopped.

  This fantastic day was all that Robert needed. His mind was clear and he felt amazing. He placed his thumb on the pad at his door and walked in. Within, there were no surprises, no letters, and no bullshit. Today was a great day.

Hours Earlier

  Keung walked down the street toward Robert’s condo. As he walked in sight of the place he noticed a man sitting in a Jeep staring into the window to Robert’s home that faces the street. He could see Robert inside happily cooking and moving about the kitchen. Keung looked over the man in the Jeep and decided it would be best to just leave Robert alone tonight. He had planned to return the DVDs and leave him a little note, just something to keep his interest going, but tonight was obviously not the night.

  Keung smiled wide and slouched a bit before walking across the street and behind the Jeep. The man inside had been there a while, Keung could see food wrappers across the front seat and floor of the vehicle as he walked toward the passenger window. Stopping at the window, he softly knocked. The man in the seat was huge, thick, a muscular man that looks as though he truly enjoys the intimidation his body grants over others. Keung put on his saddest, most pathetic face, and waited for the man to roll down his window using the manual crank.

  Keung looked up with watery eyes, his face dirty, and his hair a mess. The man in the Jeep looked impatiently at the boy. “Hey kid, what do you need?” He asked in a gruff tone that was not softened at all by his deep gravelly voice. Keung cracked his voice as he spoke.

  “I am sorry to bother you sir. But you see, I have been on the streets on my own for about a month now and I am having a seriously hard time. I was in the foster system, you see, and they kicked me out when I turned eighteen. I hate to bother you sir, but I am so hungry and when I saw you in your car with this food, I thought you might be able to spare something.” The huge man in the Jeep looked around his vehicle for a moment, he knocked over a bag here and there searching for anything he hadn’t already consumed. He found nothing.

  Michael McHenry looked at the pathetic boy for a moment and sighed. He leaned to the side and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He shuffled through the bills and pulled a ten from the stack. He took the boy’s appearance in once more, weighing out the hard luck story. “Look kid. There’s a shelter down on A street, it’s about a mile from here. They’ll take you in for the night and there is a burger joint on the way. Take this,” he said leaning over and handing the bill to the boy” get yourself something to eat. Head to the shelter for the night.” He reached back into his wallet and pulled one of his business cards out. “And take this too.” he said, handing the boy the card. “If you get in a bind, tell them to call me and I’ll see what I can do to help.” he finished.

  Keung took them both and smiled wide. “You are truly generous, sir. Thank you so much.” He gushed as the man nodded and smiled. Keung nodded and held the items close to his chest as he began away from the Jeep in the direction that the man had indicated. It wasn’t until he was a block away that he looked at the card with any real focus. It read,

  “Detective Michael McHenry Oxnard Police Department”

  Keung’s smile faded at that. Why are they staked outside Robert’s condo? Were his pranks being taken more seriously than he thought? Could they actually be attempting to capture and arrest him?

  Keung rethought his current plan of action aloud.

  “First issue; Robert is resistant to everything. He is obviously very far from any understanding of who he is. This will make convincing him to trust me so much harder, without using force.”

  “Second issue; The police are now camped outside of Robert’s house, any further visits will most likely result in my own incarceration and likely with me being returned to my family.”

  “Third issue; Robert has contacted my parents and they may very well think it a good idea to come to California and attempt to locate me. It wouldn’t be terribly hard to avoid much of this, but the deeper I am identified by the system, the longer the time it will take to remove my trail.”

  “Fourth issue; The local systems have not been able to track Deogol. As such, either I was successful in sending Deagol home, or HAL will popup an alert that Deagol didn’t break from this field and will be reborn into the populace here.”

  “Fifth issue; if Deogol is found he will need the Essence Recall Enhancer to reinstall his consciousness. The installer here is about the size of a medium refrigerator. This is not easily moved and will most likely raise many questions if noticed. All I need is somebody thinking I’m building a dirty bomb or something.”

  Keung walked around the streets, zigzagging about as he went, he was also periodically shifting the book bag on his shoulder from one side to the other for comfort. Deep in thought, Keung wandered down an alleyway where some kids were spray painting a large mural of a huge bird made of iron. They were also spraying a number of large black and red swastikas, but Keung did not notice any of that, he was deep in thought and sometimes that will distract him from the reality around him.

  He was softly talking to himself and looking into his hands as they played out a pro/con list he was building for himself. He didn’t notice the larger boys in the alley had stopped their artistic endeavor and have taken up positions to stand in his path. He came to them and automatically began to side step out of the way of the one blocking his path just to have the boy follow the move to the side and block him once more.

  Keung stopped the second time. In a daze, he looked up at the larger boy. The boy before him was large, white, and barrel chested, several tattoos decorated his well muscled arms. He also had a large tattoo of a sword and some decoration around it that covered his neck on the left side. Keung looked the man in the eye and then to either side. He looked over three other men that accompanied him. He returned to the man blocking his path and smiled.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Is there something I can do for you sir?” he asked.

  “Yeah, you can give me that backpack and anything you got in your pockets.” The larger man replied. As his associates began circling Keung, they were softly talking to one another about kicking the crap out of this flip bastard.

  Keung thought for a moment about the consequences of all the actions he could take in this moment. He could attempt to fight and he would likely be hurt far more than he would hurt them. He could attempt to run, but he would most likely…

  There was a sudden feeling of pain from his face as Keung was punched in the nose by the large man before him. The next few moments were a blur of actions as all the men leaped in and began punching and kicking him. He felt them lift his pack from his shoulder. Keung looked up and saw them rummaging through the pack as his eyes that were clouded with tears and blood. He couldn’t hear anything through the ringing in his muffled ears. One of them was turning out his pockets and took the bill that the detective had given him, as well as a few he had before that donation.

  “Hey, hey man. Hey! This chink’s got a cop’s card on him man.” He could barely make out one of them saying.

  Keung felt a sharp kick in his ribs and then saw the man hurl something at him in a small wadded ball.

  “Hey, you tell this cop anything.” he heard one say in a menacing tone, “I will find you and I will end you, you got that? Even if a cop finds me afterward, you know I’m not doing any time. We are taking back America, you got that? You better just get on the next boat home, you hear me you slant?”

  The other men were walking from the alley as the leader continued to threaten him. The large white man kicked him hard in the face and spat on him before rejoining his friends.

  Keung could feel the stream of tears running down his face. The warm blood seeping from his wounds burned as it ran freely. He pathetically looked around the alley for anything they might have left behind. He could hear them laughing distantly. He saw the pack, empty, as well as the DVD sets just thrown on the ground, the discs free of their cases. After all the toll exacted from Keung physically, the men only took the money and had broken everything else.

  Keung attempted to get up but just slumped back over. He looked up and saw a window on the second level of an apartment that overlooked the alley. He saw a young girl talking on a telephone while looking at him through an open window. He couldn’t focus on what she was saying as he blacked out.

  The next thing that Keung knew, he was in an ambulance with a man searching his pockets and talking to the man in the driver’s seat. He felt really good. Like really, really good. The pain from the beating was numb, he reached up and touched his face, he didn’t feel his hand on it, but his hand felt his face probing with his fingers. It was swollen, puffed up across both eyes, the nose, and his lips.

  “Son, are you awake?” the paramedic asked him.

  “Yes.” he replied weakly.

  “You were badly beaten in an alley, honestly, if it weren’t for the call we would never have found you and you may have died. We are on the way to Saint John’s hospital now.” The paramedic explained.

  “No, no, I don’t want a doctor.” Keung attempted to say, but his words were muffled from his lips swelling. He was sure he was unintelligible to the paramedic.

  The man monitoring his vital signs either didn’t hear him or didn’t care if those were his wishes. He attempted to sit up, but the ambulance started spinning all around him, so he just laid back and allowed himself to fade back into unconsciousness.

  Detective Michael McHenry’s cell phone rang as it rested on his bedside dresser. At this hour it was on vibrate only and it rattled the keys and pocket change that sat beside it.

  “Mike,” his wife said as she listened to the vibrations continue.

  “Uhhh,” he groaned from his pillow.

  “Mike, answer your phone or turn it off, but make it stop,” she continued.

  He picked up the phone and slid the green button to answer. Clearing his throat with a cough he put it to his ear.

  “Detective McHenry.” he answered and listened to the nurse as she explained how they found his card next to a badly beaten boy that was mugged in an alley. They ask if he knows the boy’s name after they explain the details of the scene. He looked at the phone for the time and saw that it was 11:41pm. He had to be up in around five hours. He rubbed his eyes and tossed the sheet off him as he got out of bed and began toward the bathroom.

  “What’s the kid’s condition?” he asked.

  “Stable now, but he was in bad condition when they found him.” The nurse replied.

  “Will he be okay until the morning? I can be there around ten.” He said now urinating unashamed.

  “Yes, he should be fine until then. Do you happen to know his name? He had no identification on him and he isn’t coherent enough to give us it himself.” The nurse continued her line of questioning.

  “No. Just a kid I saw on the street and gave my card if he got into trouble. Honestly didn’t think he would use it this fast. I’ll be there tomorrow morning, until then let the kid rest and I’ll get the answers you need in the morning okay?” He stated flatly before hanging up the phone as she, he thinks, agreed,. Maybe, honestly, he didn’t care.

  Michael got back into bed, making sure to turn his phone off before cuddled up next to his wife allowing his mind to drift back into the realm of sleep. Her hair smelled of jasmine and lilac and her skin was warm and soft to the touch. He snuggled close to her, feeling the silk of her nightgown brush against his body as he did so.

  The following morning Detective McHenry made good on his promise to visit the boy in the hospital. He checked at the desk and made his way to the boy’s bed. When he drew back the curtain, he saw the young man that had knocked on his window the night before looking for a bite. Someone worked him over hard. He was on a breathing machine with tubes running all over the place. He was a truly defined mess, Mike thought as he shook his head. He looked at the chart and saw they had put him into a chemically induced coma, and with his head wrapped up like a blood spotted turban, he could see why. The boy’s eyes were so swollen they looked like huge purple and blue bulbs on either side of his nose. It was grotesque, monstrous. It looked as if he had been through a fight with Tyson after making fun of the man’s voice.

  The sight of the boy in such condition made Mike’s stomach sink as he headed to the desk to give instructions that the moment the boy awoke he wanted to be called, at any hour. He gave the desk nurse his card and as he left he could feel a flicker of guilt as he walked out. He could have done something more for the boy last night. A little money, that was all he spared him. He could have at least driven him to the shelter. He just could have done something more.

  The entire way back to the station, Michael felt the guilt gnawing at him. To be honest, the little money he gave the boy felt so limited. He felt like it was more of a payoff to get the boy to leave him alone. He hadn’t thought of the young man after he had dismissed him until he got that call later on in the night. Michael kept thinking about all the bandages and tubes that had tangled up around the young man. John. John Doe. That is what his chart said. It was hard to think of that boy lying in a bed when his parents were certainly looking for him.

  Michael arrived at the station and went to his desk. The place was hopping with activity so he nearly missed Robert walking past. The younger man smiled at him as he passed by looking genuinely happy. He returned the smile and figured that his friend’s happiness was worth not mentioning the kid in the hospital for some personal guilt release. He decided he would just talk to his wife when he got home. Hopefully her day hadn’t been too full with the kids at school so she wouldn’t mind him venting.

  Robert passed Mike’s desk and saw that he looked distracted. He’d have to stop by a little later and ask him if it was anything important he was upset about. He drove his patrol for hours without a care. As he drove he thought about the boy that had been bothering him, Keung. He chuckled and thought about what might have happened. Was it the cameras, the lock change, did the kid finally realize that he was in over his head? Or, maybe his parents came to the area and found him and took him back home. In any event it looked like Robert was free of him at last.

  He was able to keep this upbeat energy for the majority of the day. He drove a route that didn’t pass that intersection and somehow he still found himself there. He looked at the island and saw there was an older man there panhandling with a sign that read, “I won’t lie, it’s for beer.” Robert smiled and readied a fiver to pass as he went by. As he pulled up close to the man he saw something that caught his eye. He saw his backpack.

  He stopped the patrol car and turned on his rotators. He exited beside the man and waved for the traffic behind him to go around. The homeless man looked scared, as though he might run at any moment. Robert walked up to him slowly, trying to keep the man calm.

  “Is everything okay officer?” the man asked.

  “Oh yeah, everything's just fine. I just wanted to ask you a couple questions if you don’t mind.” Robert replied. The homeless man nodded and lowered his sign to the side.

  “What can I help you with?” he asked.

  “That bookbag there. Can you tell me where you got it?” Robert began.

  “That? Oh, I just found it in an alley last night.” The man said fidgeting slightly.

  “Found it huh? No one was around? Which alley?” Robert continued.

  “About a mile from here. Gonzales and Fifth I think, just behind some apartments. No one was around, but it looked like there was a dust up, to be completely honest.” The man continued. “In fact, I am sure there was, it was an ambulance that drew me down there. I suppose it was likely that someone that had been hurt down there had left it.” He said turning around and picking it up.

  “There were some DVDs there too.” He said opening the pack and letting the officer look inside. “I was thinking I might be able to sell them a little later at the video shop for a couple bucks.” He finished as Robert took the package in his hands.

  “Well, I’ll tell you what.” the office started, “I will take the DVDs and the bookbag and I’ll give you twenty bucks for the lot. How does that sound?” Robert asked.

  The homeless man stammered a little but seemed to realize that this was the best offer he was going to get, considering it was all scattered about a puddle of blood, not a bad deal. He smiled at the officer and nodded.

  “Would you mind if I got a couple of my things from the bag?” He asked.

  A few minutes later Robert was back in his patrol car and looking through the pack. Buffy and Firefly were in there as well as a letter that had his name on it. The letter was unopened and in the large pocket in front. The discs look like they are okay, but the cases are all scuffed and scratched. He also found blood on the pack in spots. The homeless man was maybe one-twenty, soaking wet, and had a bum leg. Even catching Keung off guard, it would be hard to believe that he could have hurt the boy to a point that there would be blood on the pack.

  He walked into the station with the backpack on his shoulder as he headed to the lockers before clocking out. He passed Michael’s desk and gave a quick knock. When the detective looked up he smiled wide and nodded to the man. Michael’s eyes went to the pack on Robert’s shoulder and locked there.

  “Where did you get that bag?” he asked.

  “This? Target I think. Years ago when I was still in college. Thing is, it was stolen when that kid broke into my house.” Robert replied. “Why?”

  Michael’s face contorted in confusion for a moment and then he let out a slow breath.

  “Well, see, I last saw that bag on the back of some asian kid that was walking the street. He looked homeless so I gave him some money and my card if he needed help, you know?” Robert nodded slowly. “Well, the hospital called me last night and this morning I went over there. Robert, the kid was beaten up something fierce. He almost died, they tell me. He is wrapped up like a mummy and he has tubes running in and out of him all over the place. He is in a chemically induced coma right now.” The Detective said.

  Robert’s face paled for a moment and then he smiled. “Which hospital?” he asked.

  Michael was reluctant with the information, Robert had been so good over the last week or so but if this was his pack and it was the pack that the boy had on when he had seen him, then the connection was concrete. He eventually relented. He told Robert what hospital and which name they had the boy under, John Doe.

  Robert drove to the hospital and he thought about what he would say to the boy when he got there. If it was him, the same boy, then when should he tell the boy’s parents? When he knew that he would live? Once he was conscious? That is only if it’s him. If.

  Pulling up into the hospital parking lot Robert felt butterflies in his stomach. So many questions that needed to be asked, that required answers.

  Dealing with the hospital administration isn’t all that hard when you are an officer of the law. A few flashes of a badge and a couple smiles is all it takes to walk in and out of most patient rooms, as long as they have a criminal or a victimized reason to be there.

  As he walked into Keung Chen’s room he saw that the description that Michael had given him was, if anything, an understatement. The boy was covered in bandages, several of which were actually casts on limbs. There were tubes running in and out of him from all areas and there were machines monitoring his vital signs with short beeps or chirps.

  Robert didn’t know why, but standing before this boy that had been such an enigma to him, he thought he would feel anger, perhaps satisfaction, but all he felt was pure sorrow. Sorrow, for a boy that had been nothing but a chore to him so far. It didn’t make sense, but no matter how much he tried to hate or be angry with him, that was all that he felt.

  He pulled up a chair next to Keung and began to wonder about the boy. Where was he going when he was hurt? He felt something, it was like having a feather brush the back of his neck and slide to the top of his head. He could feel that Keung had been around him, he had been coming to him. Where had he been hiding from him? Again the feeling, Keung hadn’t been hiding, he had been busy. He had been busy planning what to do next with him. There was no animosity about it, Keung wasn’t playing with him, he was preparing him.

  Robert stopped and looked at the boy in the bed. Keung was in terrible shape, he should call his father and let him know he had been found and that he was here. The feeling returned and Robert knew Keung didn’t want that and no matter how much his police training told him that he needed to call the boy’s father, he knew Keung would not be better for it at all, and neither would he.

  The image of his bookbag shot into his mind, the letter he found in the large pocket. He returned to the letter. It felt like Keung wanted him to read it. He needed him to read it. Robert reached across the bed and put his hand gently on the boy’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He could feel the boy’s body relax slightly, he could feel thoughts of kindness, appreciation, of love. Did he love the boy? Did the boy love him? How and why is this feeling here?

  Robert stood after another moment and walked from the room. He stopped at the nurses desk and asked about Keung’s things. Apparently the only possessions that he had on him were some old clothes now covered in blood and had been later destroyed as biological waste. Robert gave them his card to add to the contact sheet in case there was any change with Keung. He also asked that he be the first called, if not the only, when said change occurred.

  When Robert got into his car, the drive home was robotic. He didn’t register the music playing, or if it was even on. He didn’t worry about the other cars, he just got home. He walked through the door with the bookbag in hand, the broken straps dragging on the ground. He put the bag on the kitchen table as he mechanically made his way into the apartment.

  After he was showered, relaxed, and centered, he walked into the kitchen and picked up the letter from Keung. He studied the envelope and walked into the kitchen. Taking a knife from the block he sliced the envelope open and removed the letter.

“My dear friend Robert,

I am sorry about how we first met and how we had been interacting since. Know that I mean you absolutely no harm at all. I could no more harm you than harm myself without knowing extreme pain. You must have come to the conclusion that what you saw the night we met was real, and I promise you that my friend is fine. I am going to be away for a little bit and I am hoping that you will be willing to follow. Robert, your destiny is something far beyond your comprehension. I have all the answers to any questions you have. I have answers to the questions that you never thought to ask. I will return tomorrow night with further instructions.

Please trust me here. I know this will be hard. I know that you have been in contact with my father and I would ask that you delay any plans you have of calling him until you have heard me out tomorrow night.

Keung Chen.”

  The writing was still awful as far as the handwriting. Chicken scratch at best, but it wasn’t nonsense, or at least Robert didn’t think so. The contents were intelligent, well thought out, and more. The boy was going to let him know something important. Something amazing he could feel it deep within his soul. There is more to the boy, that was certain. These are the words of someone educated, not someone from the street for the last decade. Now that he is in a coma, what is he supposed to do? Just wait until Keung wakes up? He could feel the desire for answers rising within him, but he couldn’t feel it solidify. It had no bite, no material to it. There was a patience to the longing, something that assured him that answers were coming and he just needed to wait.