Ch. 5 The Debate

This time, to my surprise, I wake up neatly tucked in abed like I’m still in kindergarten. The room is dark and I have a killer headache. I hear two voices going at it downstairs quite clearly even with the door closed. I try to sit up but my whole world spins, so instead I opt to just lay and listen.

WHY ARE YOU HERE? I HAD THINGS UNDER CONTROL!” NO YOU

DIDN’T THOSE TRACKERS HAVE BEEN ALL OVER BOTH OF YOU FOR

WEEKS! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, ARISTOTLE KEEPS CLOSE

TABS ON HIM!” OH REALLY AND WHO DO YOU THINK IT WAS THAT

CALLED ME HERE? THERE WERE SO MANY SPIES TAILING THE BOY

LAST WEEK WHEN HE WAS HOMECOMING, PARTY HOPPING

ARISTOTLE WAS NEARLY BLEED DRY BY THE TIME HE SUMMONED

1. HIS BODY WAS A TATTERED MESS. ONE MOMENT LATER AND

YOU WOULD HAVE LOST THE BOYS VANGAURD. ARIS WAS SO FAR GONE I HAD TO FORCEFULLY BIND HIS SOUL BACK TO HIS BODY BEFORE HIS VALKARIES, OR OUR HARPIES CAME FOR IT. DO YOU

HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH SERAPHIC POWER IT TOOK TO DO THAT?

THE OTHER FACTION IS BOUND TO HAVE NOTICED. DON’T EVEN GET

ME STARTED ON THAT BLASTED MORTAL ORGANIZATION. LU I

CAN’T HIDE THE BOY IF I’M IN THE BOARDROOM!” “THE BOY, THE

BOY, THE BOY. HE’S NOT JUST A BOY APOLLO HE’S YOUR SON!!! OH

SO NOW HE’S MY SON. I HEARD THAT COMMENT YOU MADE ABOUT

THAT SERVICE MAN BEING HIS FATHER. “YEAH WELL THAT SERVICE

MAN WAS A BETTRER FATHER FOR TEN YEARS THAN YOU’VE BEEN

TO ANY OF YOUR CHILDREN FOR TEN CENTURIES. WHAT KIND OF

FATHER BEATS HIS SON CONCIOUSLESS AS A TEST.” THE KIND THAT

WANTS TO PREPARE HIM FOR A LIFE FULL OF TOILS I WOULDN’T

WISH ON ANY MORTAL BEING. IT IS BECAUSE HE IS MY SON THAT HE

STANDS A CHANCE. “I TOLD YOU HE’S NOT READY!!!” AS FAR AS YOU’RE CONCERNED HE’LL NEVER BE READY.

I lay there in the dark room and listen to them go back and forth. As they do I start to reflect on the events of the day; the lost memories that resurface every time I close my eyes, and the altered memories that were forced upon me. I think of the countless decision I’d made knowingly and unknowingly just trying to find my place in the world. I had become accustomed to being that kid that was a little off. For the longest time I had been sure of only one thing. Somehow and for some reason I was different. Yet the longer I lay there and the more I listened to them argue the more I almost wish it wasn’t true. Back in grade school I was the student that didn’t always have a whole lot to say out loud, but when I did speak it was like the entire room got quiet, so as to hear my every word. I’m sure they weren’t all mesmerized by me or anything. It was more like curiosity, or humor that made them hold their tongues as I spoke. Any who, something inside of me way, way, down inside me had always known that something was amiss. I just never in my wildest dreams, and I do mean WILD would have even thought it involved something this crazy. Hands down this had been the worst day of my life.

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Their argument continued and with every waking moment my headache grew worse because of it, until finally I had had enough. I rubbed Aristotle’s head and whispered to him saying, those two need to grow up. Then I swung out of bed and marched down stairs with a purpose. Upon hearing someone on the stairway it got real quiet. “Oh don’t stop on my behalf, I said sarcastically. You only sound like a couple of dogs at the dog pound barking at everything that walks by. Ha, to think people call me a big kid.” Once downstairs I turned the corner to find the two of them in the kitchen facing each other.

Mom, who was on the right was holding a Cutco knife that she was apparently using to make dinner with just a few inches from the chest of the man I presume is my supposed biological father. My first impression of him as he stood on the left, not smart. You don’t mess with a woman, in the negative sense of course, when she’s in the kitchen cooking with a knife. That’s just stupid and asking for an early grave. If he really is my blood he should have learned that a long… long time ago.

They both looked away from each other awkwardly and took a step back as I walked into the dining room. After scratching his head a moment the man, opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by my mother to say something only getting out the words, “I ugh.” Before she said to me, “dinner will be ready shortly why don’t you take a seat.” “Sure, I said casually with squinted eyes sensing something was up. Oh, right your pots boiling over.” Agh arrgh, she said growling as she stirred the pot after turning it down. “This is also your fault, she says to him.

Looks like we’ll be having mashed potatoes instead of sliced ones.” She then started mashing them up in the pot, while my long lost bio-dad threw his hands up in submission and walked towards the dining table.

Now, that I got a good view of him, I must admit there were a few painfully obvious similarities in his physique and mine. From where I stood at the opposite end of the table, he looked to be maybe a couple inches taller at most. This would put him at about an even six foot, which ironically enough is the same height as the man whom which I already knew as my father. Guess my mom likes them tall. Anyway, his skin was a unique medium brown like that of a late autumn leaf. His physique was like a slightly older, bulkier mirror of mine, with veins that played hide and go seek depending on how deeply he breathed in or out. His arms were well defined like an athlete that played no games in the gym making the arms around the forest green t-shirt fit a little snug. The hair on his face was curly and well maintained. Likewise, the hair on his head had been grown out into a fro, and a nappy one at that. Not to mention, the twigs and leaves that seemed to be stuck in it. Never the less, all of these things seemed to be insignificant due to his radiant smile and rare amber eyes, which for lack of a more manly term are simply captivating.

Lost in my thoughts I snapped out of it only after being shaken by my mom who was again glaring at the man across the table. Why do you insist on tampering with my sons psyche?” I’m just trying to get a read on his current state of mind, besides our current circumstances are already quite alarming. The dangers he must face are both physical and mental. If our son has not a sound mind all is already lost, but you don’t seem to realize that. You’re not even his…before he could even finish the sound an “n” makes mom had crossed the table and holding a wicked blade to the front of his throat. “Don’t” was the only word she said aloud as their conversation continued with only their eyes. “Fine,” he said after a while. Perhaps, he can wait a while longer for that one.” I don’t know what they talked about inside their heads but she slowly lowered the blade as she said through gritted teeth, very well then he’ll start tomorrow. Tonight however we will eat and answer, some, of the questions he has. Agreed. “Agreed,” he said. Good, now both of you go wash up, dinner is ready.