Chapter 1: An Encounter and a new Account

3 Years Later..... BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP! “Ughhh, curse the human who designed such a torturous device! A pox upon them!” I grumble out as I slowly regain consciousness into the waking world. My name is Sebastian Cady, and I am a 16-year-old sophomore attending Mapleton Central Prep. I live alone with my mother, Elizabeth who is hardly at home due to working all the time. We share a modest 2-bedroom apartment, and we get by okay due to my mother working hard. I reach over and hit the off button on my alarm. Welp cannot put today off any longer, so I lower my bare feet to the carpet and stumble out of bed. My goal is to graduate with good grades and go to college to pursue a career in electrical engineering. My mother says she will help pay for college, but I want to ease the financial burden and get a scholarship. That woman works way to hard, and I owe it to her to be successful so I can give her an easy life. “Son, get moving or I’m going to have to drive you to school and I’ll be late for work!” my mother yells from our modest kitchen. “On it, mom!” I holler back. I sleepily walk over to my closet and grab out a fresh school uniform and sling it over my shoulders while also grabbing clean underclothes and then proceed to walk down the hallway to the bathroom.

Wiping the fog off the mirror, I inspect the reflection staring back at me. With sandy blonde hair, hazel eyes, and as my mom puts it; “roguish good looks” I am an apparent carbon copy of my father. “Hmmm, I think I see some muscle coming in.” I say as I flex in the mirror. “Son! Move your behind!” my mother hollers. “Almost done mom!” I respond with a hint of irritation. I finish donning my clothes and with a final comb through and a spritz of cologne, I walk into the kitchen. I take a seat at the table and my mother turns from the stove with a pan in her hand and starts shoveling eggs and bacon and then tops it off with a couple of slices of buttered toast onto my plate. “Can’t start the day without a good breakfast, Sebastian.” She says with a bright smile. My mother is a beautiful woman who still turns heads despite being in her late thirties. She currently has her blonde hair up in a bun and her blue eyes shine mischievously behind glasses. “Also, remember that I’ll possibly stay late today to finish up some work so we can have the weekend free.” “That’s fine, I have work after school over at Uncle Rory’s place today.” My father disappeared when I was thirteen and “Uncle Rory” is a family friend who worked with my father and promised my dad that he would look after my mother and me. He owns a self-defense studio and I work there after school 3 days a week but it usually turns into training so I can be a proper “man of the house” and protect my mother. “That’s fine dear, I’ll leave money for pizza just in case and tell your Uncle Rory I said hello.” mom replies. I finish my breakfast, grab my shoes and backpack while running out the door. “Are you forgetting something?” my mom asks with a raised eyebrow just as I am about to leave. “Love ya mom! Have a good day at work!” I holler back as I run down the stairs of our complex.

I find myself stepping out into a crisp Autumn morning as I leave my apartment complex. The neighborhood is decent, and crime is low. My mother and I live in Mapleton, NC. A modest town of roughly 40,000. I attend Mapleton Central Prep where I diligently maintain my GPA in hopes of getting a scholarship. My angel of a mother insisted I go to a private school despite the costs. Every time I mention the costs, she always responds with, “If a tree is going to grow tall and strong, it must have the proper roots.” So, I intend on making good on her investment with me. I start walking down the sidewalk towards the bus stop while admiring the weather. Not a cloud in the sky and the day just seems to be promising opportunity. I arrive at the stop and see that my friend hasn’t arrived yet. I’ve known Kristy Landing for most of my young life. We met at a local park when we were younger and have been friends since. Despite closer bus stops to her house, Kristy insists on walking to mine so we can ride together to school. Definitely a classic next-door type of girl. Honey colored hair, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across a slightly up-turned nose. Recently, I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to date her, but we’ve been friends for so long that I doubt she thinks of me in those terms. “Ahhh…what could have been…..” I sigh to myself. *Thwack* A large and heavy manilla folder lands on my lap.

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I’ve must have really spaced out because a large and imposing man wearing a black suit and peacoat sat down next to me without me realizing it. “Account Manager Sebastian Cody. This account has been assigned to you, inside you will find all the account details and an advance for expenses.” “Huh?” I utter while slowing blinking at him. I take a moment and really look at him. The man is bald and wearing sunglasses. Clean shaven and looks like a smile would sprain facial muscles. “Umm, sir. Who are you?” “My name is Mister…” I interrupt him. “I think you have the wrong guy here, I’m only six…” “My supervisor doesn’t make mistakes.” I am in turn interrupted. “As I was saying, my name is Mr., Mister…..” I interrupt again and he huffs. “Look Mr. Mister, I realllly think you have the wrong guy here. I’m only 16 and I go to school. Account Manager? Not even been to college yet and when I do go, it’ll be for Electrical Engineering.” Mr. Mister as I have decided to call him just looks at me with a flat look. I must admit, I get a little fun out of antagonizing people. “As I stated: my supervisor does NOT make mistakes. Account details are in the folder.” I glance down at my lap and pick up the manilla folder. I glance inside and a stack of bills wrapped in a rubber band catches my eye. “Hey, what’s all this cash fo…..” I glance up and see I’m alone again.

Thinking it best that it’s not time to delve into this mess yet, I shove the envelope into my bag and sit back on the bench. Account Manager? For what? What kind of company hands out new accounts at a bus stop to a teenager in an academy uniform? ‘That dog don’t hunt!’ As my Uncle Rory would say. As I’m pondering the situation, a cheerful voice yells out; “Heya Sebastian! What a lovely morning!” I glance up and see Kristy walking towards me with a huge smile. She has her honey-colored hair down today with a couple of ringlets intertwined, framing her heart-shaped face. Kristy has her backpack slung over one arm and her eyes sparkle in the sun. “Hey yerself Kristy!” I respond with a smile, temporarily forgetting about this morning’s weirdness. “Yannow, a girl can take that smile wrong if they didn’t know better.” She says while clasping her arms behind her back and smiling shyly. “Huh, what’s wrong about my smile?” I say. “She looks at me with an unreadable expression for a moment and then says, “Hmph, you do it on purpose, I just know it. You don’t look as innocent as you believe. That smile is just too devilish!” Kristy says with exasperation. I've been told by my mother, teachers, and other adults that my smile makes me look like I'm always up to trouble. I swear! It's natural! “Haaaa…..” I say while scratching the back of my head. “Well, devilish smile aside, how’s your morning so far?” Kristy asks while skipping the last few steps to the bench and plops down next to me close enough for our arms to touch. I contemplate telling Kristy about the mysterious man and envelope, but I decide not to involve anyone until I talk to my Uncle Rory.

We continue to talk about mundane topics with a soundtrack of passing cars in the background with bird call dispersed within. Eventually the city bus arrives, and I let Kristy get on before me and I follow her to the back seats. I get settled into my seat as the bus accelerates but before I can get my earbuds in, Kristy turns to me and with a smile asks, “So who was that man in the black suit sitting with you?”

In an alleyway a block from the bus stop stands a man in a black suit, talking on a cell phone. “Did the brat take the envelope?” a gruff voice asks on the other end of the phone. “Yes supervisor. He was hesitant but I left him no choice.” Mr. Mister responds. “Thoughts? Does he have it in him?” the voice asks. “Unsure at this time, sir. He did try to needle me by calling me Mr. Mister but I refused to bite.” “Heh, sounds like his old man. Continue to monitor our new employee and nudge him forward when he hesitates. DO NOT help, just nudge.” “Yessir, I will monitor from a distance and only “nudge” when necessary.” “Good, contact me with regular updates.” “Yessir.” Mr. Mister ends the conversation and ponders what type of “nudging” he may have to resort to.