Not wanting to watch another show in which people aired their dirty laundry for all to see, he turned off the television and glanced around the room for something to keep himself entertained with. His eye was drawn to his father’s old mahogany writing desk that sat in the corner of the room, propped up against the wall as one of its legs was missing.
Looking at the desk he knew that this was where his father kept all his old music books. Recalling a song about a jail in Birmingham that his father used to sing to him and his brother on road trips up to the cabin, Lee thought he would like to learn it.
He wandered over to the bench, sat himself in front of the desk and started to look through the songbooks. After searching for a while and finding the song he wanted, he sat there trying to memorise the lyrics.
Growing bored of the monotony of learning just one set of lyrics, he scanned his eye across the desk. Seeing an old photo album at the bottom of a pile of books, sliding the album out, he took it in his hands and began to examine it. While looking at it, it was obvious it hadn’t been opened in a long time, as there was a fine layer of dust. Blowing off the top layer, any residual dust that was left he wiped away with his fingers. Upon opening the album the spine cracked as if to verify that it hadn’t been looked at in an age. He peeled back each page and was greeted with pictures of his father when he was young, accompanied by his mother.
This was the first time he’d seen his parents as a young couple, it was strange for him to see this and he found comfort in the picture they presented. While peering at the pictures the obvious joy they had came shining through. But as much as the happy scenes spread before him warmed his heart, he was struggling with a degree of conflict. If it was not for him she would still be here and his father wouldn’t have faced such toil.
But Lee appreciated that wishing his own existence away was not going to help anyone, but rather cause him inner turmoil, so he tried to stay away from such thoughts.
Sitting and flicking through the album a little while more, beholding his father’s memories, he felt a sense of loss for something he had never had. Turning over the last page there was no picture, just an old delicate sheet of paper that was frayed around the edges and folded in half. Slipping out the sheet of paper he left the album open on the desk.
Unfolding the sheet he saw the familiar handwriting of his father. It was a note he had written to his mother a few years after her death, the date in the corner of the sheet said that it was eleven years old. Lee began to read the words his father wrote for his mother, knowing she would never hear them;
Sit
Come and see me
Down by the waterfront
Where the hills roll into the sea
Meet me along the path where the old harbour Used to be
Realise it’s me
Bring your eyes to meet mine
Look fondly towards me
Walk awhile
Tell me how your dreams have come to be
Sit by my side and we can
Watch the sun disappear
Let the night and infinite stars creep near
The light in the lighthouse has long gone out
If you’ll be my North Star,
I’ll be your South.
Sitting for a while absorbing what he had just read, he thought over his relationship with his father and the contrast of the relationship between his parents, the loss his father had suffered and how he managed to conceal his hurt from his sons. Conflict hit Lee again, for had he not existed his mother would still be here and he wondered, would his family be happier in a world where she lived on and he didn’t? Lee sat in perfect silence, unaware of the fact that his father had returned to the house and was standing in the room, behind him.
The silence broke with Philip asking, “Why aren’t you in school?” this startled Lee, who was still holding the note in his hand.
He dropped his hand to his side and stammered, “I… I wasn’t feeling too good, so I came home.”
Philip was less interested in his response as he was in the reason his son was sitting at his writing desk. Approaching to see what he was doing, he looked down over his shoulder and saw the photo album open on the desk.
Letting out a soft breath as if to hide a chuckle, Philip ran his hand up his neck and scratched his rough chin as he spoke to Lee, “I remember that day well...” Pausing in contemplation he lifted the album up and uttered, “I haven’t looked at this in what seems a lifetime.”
Sitting on the bench beside his son he flicked through the pages of memories. Getting to the end he closed the album and sat it back on the desk. Looking toward his son he noticed his eyes focused down to something by his side in his hand. He asked quizzically, “What have you got there?”
Lee, uncertain of himself and not knowing if he had done something wrong turned to his father. Nervously, he raised his hand with the poem in it and handed it to him.
Philip took the piece of paper in one hand and used the other to prop up his chin as if to ponder and commenced reading his own words. Reading the first few lines it became clear to him what he was actually reading. It was the memory of an emotion he had experienced a lifetime ago. After finishing reading the words he folded the page and placed it on the table in front of him.
They both sat in silence for a minute or two, or what seemed to be that long. Philip placed his hand reassuringly on his son’s leg and began to talk.
“I know you have been struggling lately. I know it’s not fair on you to be carrying the burden of what you have had to conceal about yourself while still trying to fit in, but I have been doing the best I can for you. I am not as equipped to deal with matters of delicacy as your mother was, if she was sitting here she would know exactly what to say to you.
You know she bought me this old desk, when we got it the leg was already broken off; it was the best worst present I have ever received, if that makes sense. When I look at you, I see her. I see her every time and it kills me to know you are struggling. I know that I can't help you as I should. I tried to prepare you to deal with anything the world can throw at you physically and mentally, but maybe I lacked showing you how to deal emotionally. I find it hard to show those things. Your mother could just look at me and she would know exactly how I felt. She would draw out my emotions as well as her own...”
Philip paused for a second to clear his throat and wiped away some tears that had begun to gather in his eyes. Lee kept his face turned downward so as to not make his father self-conscious of the situation. Instead just listening as his father spoke on.
“The day you were born my whole life got thrown on its head. Joey and I had plans, but they were ruled out that day. When she left, she gave me one final gift. That was you, son. With her last breath she gave you your name...”
Lee raised his head slightly on hearing this. He had never been told this story before and continued to listen to his father.
“Sorry for asking you to carry this burden alone, but it’s something you must do, for your own safety and protection. I might have been wrong in the way I raised you, but I feel now as I did then, that it’s the best thing for you. When your mother passed I became drained of all outward emotion, it doesn’t mean I don’t feel everything inside, because I do. I am just not strong enough to show it. I love you son, I don't say that enough, but I do and one day you will find someone who will make you feel as your mother made me feel.
Even when that happens I want you to be very careful who you trust with your secret. Relationships end and there is a thin line between love and hate. If your secret gets out you will be in inherent danger and if that happens you will need an exit strategy. I am proud of you son, so be careful and be kind to yourself. I can already see the kind of man you are becoming and I am nothing but proud...”
He reached out to the desk, opened a drawer and took a handkerchief out, wiping his eyes, cleared his nose and stood up to walk away. Halfway across the room he turned one more time to face his son. “And, Lee
...” Lee didn’t respond. He just turned his head towards where his father was standing and waited for him to continue, “...Don't skip school again.” He didn’t answer, but nodded in acknowledgment.
As his father left, he just sat there and reflected on what had just happened. Sitting in silence he once again flicked through the photo album in front of him, not so much looking at the pictures this time, but rather just to have something to focus on. To every young person their father is the strongest person in the world and this is this first time that Lee saw his father not as a man with superhuman strength, but as a man; a normal man who had to face the trials and tribulations of everyday life and far from being infallible he was actually quite flawed.
Lee took strength from this. He didn’t need a shrouded ability to be a man. The definition of what made him good and complete was not what was reflected out; rather what was reflected in. Knowing the measure of a man was being able to face the world head on and not hide away or complain when it knocks you on your ass. From then on Lee would face anything the world could throw at him head on and not hide away, all the while keeping his secret.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Lee finished high school he achieved an average grade and subsequently attended an average college where he got an average degree. But this average life was all he strove for, knowing that any undue attention would cause problems, but continuing to stay under the radar for what would probably be his entire life was exhausting. Lee needed a challenge. He wanted to really work for something that he could look at with pride. He wanted Tom and his father to be proud of him and not just because they loved him. Not just because they had to. He carried around a constant feeling of dissatisfaction that niggled at him, no matter what he did and it was only getting worse.
After leaving college Lee began working in the Post Newspaper as a junior editor on the news desk, allowing him to feed his appetite for information. His main role was to read though stories submitted by journalists and make sure they were both accurate and correct. With this Lee was able to expand his already impressive mind learning stories of heroism and villainous misdoings. The inspiration he found in these stories only served to increase his belief that there must be more to his life; there needed to be more than just flying under the radar of the powers that be.
Although there was peace for the most part, there was still an undercurrent of crime that wasn’t really seen in everyday life, the fact of which Lee knew all too well from his encounter with Jimmy. This tide of crime mostly came from underground clubs where men tested their might against each other for venture and position within the resurgence of an elite spate of crime bosses, who emerged when the borders were opened up between the two governments.
They viewed the United New World as an untapped territory where they could make a lot of money through illegal activity, whilst remaining loyal to the Old World Alliance. Newspapers didn’t tend to print stories relating to any negative societal activities, but given Lee’s position within the paper he was privy to the stories before they were inevitably pulled. He also had the opportunity to learn about business, economics and investments.
On lonely nights he learned how to trade the markets and was very successful at it. Finally he had found a challenge that he could excel at without drawing attention to himself. He could see the whole market and account for variables and political factors. It nearly became like a game to him, like one his father would have given him years before. He learned to read the information before him and make logical decisions on the outcome of market investment. He set up ghost companies so that the money trail couldn’t be linked back to him and by doing so he gave himself a cushion of security that would help keep him financially secure for the rest of his life, making sure he could keep up his job as it helped feed his thirst for knowledge and helped him to be seen as a normal guy.
Tom’s life in contrast was rather different. Given the strength, training and discipline his father instilled on him, he went to join the army. Even though there were no wars of significance, each country maintained an army as a deterrent. As hidden capabilities weren’t openly talked about within the remit of a person’s application to become a soldier, many soldiers masked their abilities, opting rather to gain promotion through the traditional routes. This also protected the soldier from being utilised as an ability, rather than a person. Tom was one of these soldiers, but given his upbringing and his awareness for the world around him he quickly proved himself to be a valuable asset to the army as a reconnaissance soldier.
Tom even got awarded the medal of valour for his outstanding acts of bravery. On a mission in the forest, Tom was to recon a village where suspected terrorists had kidnapped a bus full of school girls. His mission was simple; get in, identify the presence of the schoolgirls and radio for back up. The village had only one road in or out with a well-built wooden bridge over the village stream making it difficult for unseen entry. With nightfall’s cover Tom waded his way up the stream using the water to cover his scent from the guard dogs until he got to the bridge, where two guards stood with their ever-ready dogs.
In complete silence and darkness Tom rigged the bridge with explosives making pursuit of escaping prisoners and soldiers impossible. The expected time on the mission was ten minutes so Tom set the timer for 15, allowing five minutes to locate the kids and radio back up.
Having placed the final explosive, Tom waded further up stream, found cover and pulled himself out of the stream and began to search the village. Working his way through all the buildings, he hid in shadows, hunting for any signs of the girls or bus. Finding his way round the village Tom discovered a barn hidden to the rear of what appeared to him to be the village church.
Peering in the window, Tom came across the bus the girls were taken from hidden under a tarp. Snatching the radio from his bag, he turned on the radio to break silence and call it in. First Class Sergeant McKay, who was Tom’s sergeant and had come through the academy with him, was to lead the extraction team once Tom confirmed the presence of the hostages. Tom radioed in that he had discovered the bus and continued to search. As he moved to the next building to his horror he spied the extraction team moving in too early, way too early. Tom got back in the radio calling in his mission abort code but he was too late. The extraction team had breached the village. Tom knew the only possibility now to save the hostages was to hope that while the terrorists were busy with the extraction team he could move freely from building to building.
Dashing over and back across the village, he scanned every building as he darted by, trying to locate the captives. One building caught Tom’s attention. The guards on the door did not budge despite all hell breaking loose around them. Flanking from the side, Tom pulled out his gun and shot one in the foot. He collapsed to the ground, crying out as the other guard made ready his weapon, but it was too late. Leaping through the air with full force, Tom struck his knee squarely in the guard’s chest. Landing on top of his crumpled body Tom placed the gun to his head, gripped the trigger and released a round. Tom spun around and fired once more at the other guard still clenching his foot.
Gun cocked, Tom hit the door shoulder first, busting open all locks and most of the door frame as he entered the building.
Nothing, there was nothing in the room. No girls, nothing. Stunned, Tom turned to make his escape when he heard a rustle from inside the building. Spinning around and pointing his gun into the obviously empty room, Tom knew he wasn’t alone. Searching and finding nothing except a sporadic sound of whimpering, he put down his gun and spoke out.
“I am here to get you out,” still nothing was revealed. Speaking softly. “Trust me!”
From behind a projected masking, one child stepped out, then another and another. Tom found himself in a room of scared girls and constructed a plan in his head to get them out while shielding them from the battle outside. “Put the masking back up, conceal us all.” A child stepped forward and threw the masking cloak up in the air, covering all the girls
along with Tom. He moved to the back of the room and throwing his fist straight at the wall on the poorly constructed building, he blew a hole in it large enough for a child to slip through.
Approaching the opening, a small child went to pass through. Taking her hand, Tom bent down on his knees and calmly said, “No, we are going out the front door, and straight over the bridge.” Turning to the child with masking capabilities, Tom asked, “What’s your name?”
Nervous and unsure, the child responded, “Annie…”
“Such a brave girl, keeping all your friends safe, now I need you to try to keep them safe a little longer. While I get you out. Can you do this?”
Annie looked away from Tom, scared by his appearance but comforted by his words and simply stated, “Yes.”
“Can anything come into the mask you don’t allow in?” queried Tom.
“NO, nothing,” Annie responded.
Tom realised he could keep them safe. “Great. Let’s go!”
He opened the door and, masked by Annie, guided the girls out. Moving across the dirt road that ran up the middle of the village Tom brought the girls to the bridge. Here he was met by a single solitary enemy combatant. Blocking the escape route Tom crouched on his knee, turning to Annie. “Wait until he moves and we will simply walk out of here.”
Annie for the first time looked Tom in the eye and said, “He can see you!”
Hearing this Tom shot his attention back to the soldier on the bridge, but it was too late; a searing pain hit his shoulder.
Falling under the weight of his body and the pain inflicted, Tom could feel metal grinding against his bone. Not wincing or shouting out, Tom simply got angered by the pain that coursed through him. He quickly deduced that this soldier’s ability was to do with his sight. Being able to see through the masked veil that covered him and the kids meant he must have had heat vision or something similar. Not taking any time to actually figure out exactly what his ability was, Tom attacked.
Powerless: In a world of superpowers, what happens when you have none? Page 6
