The Silhouette (Alan Quinn and the Second Lifes)

by Thomas William Shaw

It didn’t take anytime at all to get ready. I threw on a white undershirt and a pair of jeans I had worn a few times already in the week along with my grey converse. I was pleased that I could leave the satchel behind. I wouldn’t need to pass out any fliers any longer. I imagined the people of Ashton would be grateful for that.

  Dad was waiting for me at the front door in casual plaid button-up and khaki pants. I was accustomed to him wearing suits even when he was out in the field studying dreams or whatever was involved in his profession, so that was unusual.

  “Want to take the Jaguar out for a spin?” Dad said, jingling his keys in my face.

  I dismissed the offer, “The town is close enough to walk.”

  “I will let you drive.”

  “I’m thirteen.”

  He shoved the keys back in his pockets and laughed, “Thank you for clearing that up. I almost made a horrible mistake, did I not?”

  I’m glad he thought he was a comedian. We walked through our messy front yard and towards the main road. Dad made a note that now that he was going to be around a little more often we should probably invest in a lawn mower. He quipped that I did not have to be thirteen to man one of those. His jokes were just getting funnier and funnier by the minute.

  One thing I could not take away from him was how happy he’d become since the events of those last few weeks. Even when he had his story telling sessions he had a bit of tragedy behind his voice, but this was different. The Dad I used to know certainly would never have waved at passing traffic like they were old friends. He would wave and they would honk back in glee. The people of Ashton certainly tended to be a friendly bunch.

  We continued down the walkway, getting closer and closer to the bookstore. Dad attempted to drum up conversation, “What do you think of this place, Alan?”

  I said, “Ashton? I guess it is ok. It isn’t London or Brazil, but it is home.”

  He pointed up at the sky, “Not many places are, but that is not what I meant. I meant Earth.”

  The question instantly gave me a headache. “Excuse me?”

  He said, “You are young so I would understand if you were not sure of it yet. I knew when I was your age that I was more focused on girls and action figures, but one day you are going to have to make a choice.”

  “What choice?”

  “Is it not obvious? Earth or no Earth.”

 

  I put on my best “What the heck are you talking about?” face and kept moving. Was he trying to impress me or was he talking about Draio? I didn’t think I would get used to those little chats, and I was not sure that was something I wanted. One second I had Dad and the next I would have someone that sounded more akin to Andrew Lathon. Wouldn’t that have been funny, I thought, to have Lathon as a father? I shook the idea away and stayed on course.

  Dad became increasingly excited as we neared closer and closer to Victor’s. He was like a little kid on the way to his first roller coaster. I was beginning to think that, in those circumstances, the two shared a lot of qualities. Dad running away was the train car climbing the big hill, but having him back was the actual ride. Dad was already completely unpredictable, so how I could possibly know how he was going to react once we got inside the bookstore.

  When Victor’s was just a few blocks ahead of us, Dad ran past, exclaiming, “Well, what are you waiting for? Come on!”

  Running was not one of my favorite activities, considering I had been doing a lot of it lately, so I let him have the head start. I instead inhaled a breath of the fresh air. I was out of school after all. I was able to put off that awkward range of conversations I was sure Vick and I were going to have now that he thought I knocked him on his butt. Even more exciting, I did not have to confront Jessica for whatever reason I had upset her. Perhaps, she would let everything go once she realized I got Dad back. I never knew with her.

  I watched Dad enter the store, hopping like he was a kangaroo or a rabbit. He was really starting to push the strange level to the edge. I stopped at a power line to pull one of my fliers down. It was posted next to an advertisement for the book signing Darius had the day before.

  A hand tapped me on my right shoulder, but when I turned around there was no one there. A few older people walked past me and into the bookstore but none of them were close enough to have touched me.

  “Lathon, is that you?” I whispered.

  “Who else could it be? Your invisible best friend, Sam?” Lathon whispered back.

  I responded, “I’ll have you know that I have more invisible friends now than I care to count,” but I realized at the last second that I was talking a little too loudly. A couple walked by who caught my whole speech and mumbled together that they always knew my family was out of their marbles. I guess not everybody can be friendly in this town.

  Lathon said, “Go into the alleyway, so we can talk a little more privately.”

  I could barely make out his vapory figure as I followed him into the alleyway. I looked over at the door of the bookstore, hoping I wasn’t taking so much time that my Dad would get worried. It was supposed to be our day together after all.

  Lathon waited until we were out of earshot of the main street before he said, “Ok, would you be more enthused to gather the bad news or the very bad news?”

  I had never been asked that question in that manner. I said, “Was there no good news this time?”

  Lathon appeared in his solid form. He said, “Would you prefer I called it the very bad news and the better but still pretty awful news?”

  “That is better, I suppose.”

  “You are completely ridiculous.”

  I thought he was one to talk. Frustrated, I said, “Just out with it already!”

  “I will begin with the very bad news. That man really is your father.”

  “Of course he is and how is that the very bad news?” I said, scratching my temple. “Of all the things that have gone terribly wrong these last couple of weeks, I would say that is the best news I have received. Try again.”

  He pushed me up against the wall. Red eyes flashed out of his shadowy face, “You clearly do not understand, Alan Quinn. That man has been lying low with some of the most heavily trained Silhouette hunters that have been or will ever be on this Earth. If they even get wind that I have been around, they will hunt me down and deliver a fate worse than that of Darius.”

  I winced. I didn’t remember ever telling Lathon about the way Darius died, but he probably had some kind of mind power that allowed him to figure it out.

  “I know you do not like to talk about that night, but you have to realize what we are up against. Your dad could easily have been wired to be one of the most dangerous weapons on this planet and you are bringing him into crowds of people! Yes, Alan, this could be going world wide and if we do not put an end to this soon, this could mean the end of Draio too.”

  I brushed his hands off of my shoulders, “I thought Draio had already ended.”

  His shadowy form flew towards a big, rusty dumpster at the end of the alleyway and blew a hole through the center of it, sending the individual sides a few yards down the alleyway. It definitely got the point across that he was trying to achieve.

  His back to me, he said, “If we do not have anything to fight for, to hope for, what is the point? I am here because I believe we can still rebuild it. It is savable, Alan, and if you are not on board then I will briefly mourn your passing when doomsday begins before I am dealt my own permadeath because we are not going to be able to save the both of our worlds without you.”

  He switched back to a vapor and moved on towards the streets.

  I ran after him, “Lathon, I am sorry. You have to realize how all of this sounds to me. This is my Dad we are talking about. He means the world to my mom and I, even when he treats us like us like he has.”

  Lathon stopped, “I know you are thirteen and that may seem young for a human, but sooner rather than later you are going to
have to decide which is more important to you: the welfare of billions of people or maintaining your family unit.”

  I fell to my knees, ravaged with the thought, “Can we not fix him? Why can’t I have both my Dad and everyone else? WHY DO I HAVE TO CHOOSE?”

  He lightly slapped my face, “Quit your blubbering, Alan. The whole town will hear you.”

  Lathon switched back to solid form and helped me up. He used a shadowy finger to wipe away a few of my tears. He said, “I will do everything in my power to give your dad an opportunity to survive this, but LeCarre and I could not come up with a solution upon our last meeting. Well, one that was a sure thing.”

  My heart ached worst than it ever had. I had not seen Mom as happy as she looked this morning since we were in London. How would she react if she knew what had become of my father? Still, I had to hold out the hope that all of this would turn out ok.

  I attempted to toughen up. I wiped away my tears and stood up straight. I said, “What is the better but still pretty awful news?”

  Lathon laughed, “I never thought you would ask. The dream chasers know you and your father are on Main Street. They are coming to set him off because they are running out of time.”

  “How is that better news?”

  He laughed even harder, “This is better news because they are not aware that I or LeCarre will be waiting for them. It is time to take them out and, if all goes well, we might be able to put a stop to this. If we fail, it is going to be very bad. So, I guess you were right. This could go either way.”

  The anger rising in me at the thought of the dream chasers gave me a new sense of confidence. I puffed out my chest, “Let me help.”

  “I already have a task in mind for you,” he said. “Ready to hear it?”

  “Of course. I will do anything.”

  “You are going to be keeping an eye on your father until they get here.”

  Anti-climactic doesn’t begin to describe the source of my disappointment. I said, “Seriously?”

  “I am sure you have noticed random spurts where your dad is acting a little less like a human, have you not?”

  The image of Dad hopping around on his way into Victor’s came springing into mind. I said, “So?”

  “LeCarre and I believe having you near by slightly suppresses the urge for it to happen. We think that is why he has come back to you. Part of him is still there.”

  That had to be good news. If part of Dad was still trying to fight its way back to his family then we had to be moving in the right direction to cure him. The idea gave me a surge of pride. This had to work. There was no room for error.

  Lathon faded into vapor, “I better tend to my rendezvous with LeCarre. Be strong Alan. No matter what happens, it has been grand to finally get a chance to meet you. May it not be our last.”

  He moved back into the street and deeper into the town. I made my way towards Victor’s with only one thought on my mind: Dad had returned to my family because part of him still lived. I was not going to let the dream chasers take that part away.