In time, the shock and confusion of the days after the death of his family receded to a manageable simmer. He changed quickly from a secure happy little boy to a resentful disobedient delinquent. He refused to interact with the Diaz family, unable to establish any sort of bond with them. He ran away from their home many times. Each time, Senor Brooks tracked him down and returned him. Whenever he saw Senor Brooks, he deluged him with questions and entreaties to let him go home. Senor Brooks became less and less communicative, closing the door on any of the hope Jose had managed to hold on to.
He began to wonder at the unusual coincidence of Senor Brooks finding him every time he ran away. What about the coincidence of Senor Brooks living in the U.S. now, just like him? Jose had never received answers to any of his questions. He stopped asking to go home. Finally, the time came when Jose no longer burned with the desire to run away, and Senor Brooks disappeared from his life altogether.
Sometimes being very young has its advantages. Mother Nature gave youth an astonishing ability to heal; physically and mentally. Slowly, the traumatized young boy’s natural curiosity helped draw him out of his bitter shell. He began to take comfort from the unrelenting warmth of Mama Diaz and her clan.
The Diaz family welcomed him warmly. They even agreed to adopt him. He later learned that Senor Brooks had moved the whole family to the country as a result of their agreement to take him in. Their previous home, a tenement city fraught with danger and dead end opportunity for the kids, became merely a distant memory.
It had been overwhelming at first, of course. The Diaz children treated him like a new house pet. The two girls, Emma and chubby little Bonita, aggressively staked their claim. They loved to dress him in their ragged finery, forcing him to play house. He became their prime choice, always the reluctant victim, coercing him to try their latest recipe of dirt cakes and sand scones.
The two boys, Tomas and Hiro loved having him be their third against the blacks and Muslims when they teamed up to play kick the can, touch football or water tag down at the neighborhood swimming hole. Tomas always seemed to get a bit of extra pleasure whenever Jose took some extra hard lumps, though.
Jose’s life took a turn for the better when Papa Diaz brought home a surprise from his job at the fabric mill, one of the few manufacturing concerns in the county. A plum job and only achieved through the intervention of Senor Brooks, which had caused quite a bit of resentment from other disgruntled applicants on the waiting list for the next opening. Papa Diaz was an outsider, after all.
The puppy wandered onto the mill’s property during a lunch break. He reeked: a sad and dirty little guy. Tight, possibly white, curly hair all but obscured his intelligent needy eyes. His long tail wagged so much and so hard it sported bald spots and painful bruises. Attracted by the smells and crumbs from the lunch crowd, he ran from person to person, begging for food. His starving body shivered with malnutrition, his ribs ready to pop through his paper-thin skin. Sores surfaced through his fur where fleabites tortured him.
At the end of the day, when the mill workers headed home from their shift, the pup lingered, trotting behind the exodus to the parking lot, his frantic tail crying, take me home, take me home. But no one responded.
By the time Papa Diaz left for home, the deserted parking lot echoed the pup’s loneliness. He sat in the corner of the brick building in the weeds, shivering and discarded. As Papa Diaz came out the door he froze, desperation written on his demoralized face. Hope rose like a feather caught in the breeze, long ago discarded, now wafting forward. He sat frozen, only the hesitant motion of his eyes speaking of life as he watched Papa Diaz walk toward him. Papa Diaz stood in front of the pup as it silently looked up at him, too defeated even to beg. Bending down, he picked up the scrawny little guy, tucked him inside his overcoat and resolutely took him home.
They named him Barney. It was love at first sight for Jose. The abandoned pup’s story reflected his own. He found in Barney the one thing that provided medicine to draw the poison from his psychological wounds. No longer alone, their damaged souls began to heal as they found comfort and security in each other’s raw love.
*
The years passed. Jose grew, surprising everyone with his tall, lanky good looks. He became reasonably popular in school, good grades coming easily to him. But he remained shy, confiding in no one, Barney his constant companion to the exclusion of other kids. He knew Mama Diaz loved him fiercely, but worried about what she sensed at the back of his eyes. Just a small something at the end of the day as fatigue overwhelmed him. She said it looked like a hurt, or was it distrust? She made him sit with her so they could pray. With Barney at his feet, they sat at the kitchen table. With the Virgin Mary hanging on the wall, they prayed that life would be kind to him.
Late one Friday evening, after dinner, everyone gathered in the small but cozy living room. No one noticed the peeling walls or stained hardwood floors. The girls fought to sit next to Jose and Barney, and the boys pounded on each other until Mama Diaz silenced them.
“Papa Diaz has a serious announcement.” Her calm voice betrayed a hitch of tension that demanded their attention better than words could hope to. In a low calm voice, eyes cast to the floor, Papa Diaz broke the news fated to change Jose’s life again.
The fabric mill had announced layoffs, their margins slipping. He had received his termination papers last week. With decent paying jobs nonexistent, Papa Diaz had decided to try to jump the fence, the possibility of getting caught the only drawback. It was a felony and would mean a long jail sentence. The government and cartels of Mexico were determined to protect their jobs for their own citizens, and who could blame them?
Mama and Papa had decided to merge the family with another fatherless family in the neighborhood, and the Diaz’s arranged to move into the Preston home down the hill—two families banding together to help each other so they might all survive. The thought of moving in with a new family didn’t really disturb anyone. They all understood the economics. Yes, it would be a bit unusual, two different ethnic backgrounds. But in the country, far from the urban centers, that factor took on a lesser significance.
Jose knew of the family. He vaguely knew Abby Preston from school. And everyone knew her twerpy younger brother, Scotty. He could be found anywhere, lurking all over the neighborhood like the ugly unwanted kid, shut out of the candy store while everyone else lived it up on the inside; kinda sad. Not too many white kids in the neighborhood; no one for him to play with. And what the heck had happened to his head? Ick. Maybe things would change for him now that they would be moving in together. He shrugged to himself. It wasn’t really his concern.
Now Abby was a different story. A little older than him, they really never spoke. A slender pretty girl, he admired her thick cinnamon hair. He remembered something about her being sick. She sure looked healthy to him; probably a rumor.
That night, as Jose lay in bed, he realized that when Papa Diaz headed back to Mexico, he would be without a male authority figure in his life again. First Papa, then Senor Brooks, then Papa Diaz. The Preston kids lacked a father too. Guess they had something in common.
Drifting off to sleep, he fought the disturbing fragments of memory following the hazy death of his family. In his dream, he tried fruitlessly to outrun the ache and insecurity of his turbulent nightmares. He cuddled Barney desperately in his sleep.
Barney woke with a whine, his own doggy dreams just as frightening. His rough sloppy tongue reached up to Jose’s familiar face for reassurance. Waking, Jose gave Barney a tender kiss on his muzzle and drifted back to sleep.
Chapter 5
Moving day had come and gone; so had Papa Diaz. The layoffs never materialized, but the dominant faction at the mill pushed him out anyway, never forgiving him for getting preferential treatment during his hiring. Since they no longer enjoyed the benevolent attention of Senor Brooks, the family knew they would sink or swim on their own. Hopefully, Papa Diaz would not get caught crossing the border.
Barney made a big splash with the two Preston kids, quite the slobbering icebreaker. The Prestons had never had a pet before, only some imaginary golden fairy which the kid yakked on and on about to anyone who would listen.
They all attended the same school system. The little ones went on the school bus and Abby, Jose, Tomas and Hiro now walked to the regional high school. Abby was ready to graduate this spring. Tomas and Jose were both in their sophomore year, Hiro a freshman.
As it turned out, Abby truly was sick. It took a lot out of her family to make sure she got her dialysis every week. The whisper around the neighborhood said she would never be able to have her own family. It was a well-known fact that unless the Prestons managed to buy one of the Chinese kidneys, she would probably not make it past thirty. You couldn’t tell from knowing her, though. She might be a little too slender, but she sported one of the widest smiles in school. And her generosity was just as inclusive. She made time for everyone: a smile here, a word of encouragement there; always the one to sort out disagreements at home and the first to pass on dessert if they came up short. She treated Jose like a kid brother, no more, no less.
*
Time passed uneventfully, the kids all doing fairly well in school. Abby graduated and was lucky to find a job with an Internet company doing web processing. Before long, Tomas and Jose graduated, both finding local work: Jose learning how to weld and Tomas driving a long haul truck. Hiro still needed to complete his last year of high school.
Papa Diaz found a job in Mexico. He sent home money and letters, making a big difference to the family. The letters tapered off after a few years, then so did the money. Mama Diaz confided to Mrs. Preston her suspicions about a new family. Men who had left home were well known for womanizing, even the best of them. But to reject the responsibilities of supporting the family you’d left behind in a poor country while you took off for a rich one with better opportunity? It cut deeply.
Tomas and Hiro were profoundly affected. Hiro closed down, keeping his emotions bottled up, confiding in no one. He dropped out of school, joining Mrs. Preston at her job in the grocery store. But Tomas became a hard case. He developed a real nasty edge, dissing Jose every chance he got. He started stealing supplies from the school, then disappearing for days after Mama Diaz or Mrs. Preston confronted him. He stopped contributing to the household. Everyone tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he sarcastically rejected every attempt to reach out.
Jose felt closer and closer to Abby and Scotty. The three of them all harbored insecurities; being self-described outsiders created a natural bond: Abby, because of her medical needs draining the family’s resources, and Scotty, because of his secret disability. Oh, yes, Scotty hid a secret.
Tomas and Jose eventually moved out. Each had found girlfriends, Tomas moving in with his. Mama Diaz sorely missed their financial contribution, but she found a job in a local restaurant. Things were not too God awful. Emma and chubby Bonita, who now insisted on being called Bonnie, grew up; ready for high school. Life had actually been kind to the blended family, everyone growing up safely with a decent roof over their heads. Now that Tomas no longer lived with them, they found the tension in the house over his antics evaporate and laughter crept back into their lives.
The only problem now, was sixteen-year-old Scotty. The last few years found him developing some unusual behaviors. He became very withdrawn and secretive, although a miracle manifested in his lazy eye and skin conditions. The bald spots on his ringworm scars began to grow hair in an unusual glowing blond. His lazy eye stopped wandering and his impetigo scars disappeared. Under the circumstances, he should have been wild with joy. Tragically, he hardly noticed.
*
Scotty moved into the bedroom with Hiro after Tomas and Jose moved out. He currently suffered his misery alone; face down on his messy bed, waiting for Hiro to return from work with Scotty’s mother. He rolled over onto his back, wracked with the apprehension and distress that had become his constant companions since the beginning of the growth of his tail. Yeah, that’s right. A tail. Not a small one either. At the same time as his tail had begun to grow, he started his growth spurt; so sudden and remarkable that his bones constantly ached, especially the back of his shoulder blades. Now, he measured a full six feet tall. And his tail? The same length: six feet of golden muscle and fur. Fur. He balled his fists tightly, anger and fear fighting to overwhelm him.
He concealed his new tail by winding it around his torso under his shirt, the expanding bulbous end presenting little problem as he forced it to flatten against his abdomen. The gold sheen developing in his eyes presented a dicey dilemma. The danger of intrusive questions was the most pronounced when he stood in the sun. As a result, he stayed inside during the day. He only went outside when he was sure he would be alone, which, by the way, was most of the time. Strangely, he often felt compelled to go outside. He yearned for the sun, a new effect that energized him.
He no longer ate food like the rest of the family. His mom noticed but let it go, not commenting. He pretended the concern in her eyes wasn’t for him. Hopefully, she chalked up his behavior to normal teenage angst. He covered by pushing his food around on his plate, feeding his dinner to his new bud, Barney. When Jose moved out, he left the poor dog behind, making Scotty promise to take care of him. Funny how much comfort Barney brought him.
He missed Jose immensely. Jose had eventually told Scotty most of his family history over the years. It made Scotty feel small as he compared his own nasty problems with his father who had disappeared, thankfully, nine years ago, to Jose’s story of tragedy. They grew very close. Jose took on a big brother role with Scotty, inadvertently enabling him to better weather the physiological shock when his tail began to grow.
It had started with constant soreness, then swelling and finally breakthrough growth. He didn’t mention it to his mom because he knew they didn’t have money for doctors anyway, Abby’s treatments were only barely affordable. He hoped it would resolve itself on its own. When it became clear that something was actually growing, he thought it might develop into cancer—a scary fatal cancer. He watched fearfully as it developed quickly into its present form, finally fascinating him. He became very secretive. Even though clearly a freak, he didn’t want to be labeled again, still smarting from childhood taunts that had left psychological scabs on his vanished scars, too easily picked open.
What disturbed him the most? The big why. Why him? Why now? Maybe an infection? Was it evolution run amok? And shock of all shocks, he couldn’t get over the fact that the tail felt completely natural. He could move it at will. He liked it. And that scared him the most.
Chapter 6
2047 AD
As time moved on, Scotty ached to confide in someone. His life felt like an emotional roller coaster. He vacillated between fear and depression, frustration and insecurity. And pride, can’t forget that. If he outed himself, someone might tell him his tail must be removed or put him on display. He felt like a freak; the kind of freak that might send the authorities slobbering to get a chance to study him and steal his paltry life with its insignificant pleasures.
So he decided to keep secret the horrific changes his body continued to produce. Even the hair that grew back through his ringworm scars looked different. Abby teased him, saying the bleached blond look didn’t really work with his dark hair color. He tried to pass it off as the latest style at school, although it was more blond now than anything else. He almost didn’t recognize himself in the mirror.
The kids at school sure noticed. He couldn’t fail to notice the whispers behind his back, the fingers pointing in the hallways, the garbage dumped in his locker or the crude comments written on the
blackboards; probably because of his eye. It no longer wandered. It stayed centered just like his other eye. Abby and his mom were stumped but very happy for him. Maybe in time the kids would stop singling him out and want to be friends. Sighing, he prayed that when he got older, maybe then he could confess and seek help without fear.
He did have another thought, totally ridiculous of course, lodged in the back of his mind, gnawing away like a wolf cub cutting its baby teeth on its first bone. As a child, he had played in the woods constantly. He vaguely remembered an incident involving some kind of traumatic experience in the woods. Mostly because his mother laughingly told him something must have happened.
His seventh birthday; the day he wished his father dead. He remembered that part clearly. He remembered running off to the woods and falling asleep on top of a huge rock. Things got fuzzy from there, but he knew he had left the woods with a very valuable gold coin. Abby remembered a fanciful story of meeting a golden fairy. He cringed when he thought about how much of an idiot he had sounded. He knew he hadn’t met a fairy, duh. Just the mention of it embarrassed him. God knew what he might have said as a kid. Nonetheless, he did have an impression of talking to someone. And he remembered having dreams about a golden glow, perhaps eyes? All very nebulous and confusing. His changes had begun sometime after that.
He sighed. Sliding off the bed, he pulled open his bottom dresser drawer where he kept his treasures. Taking out a tiny wooden box, he opened the lock and pulled out the gold coin. His mother had decided they would save it for Scotty’s college studies. The coin would provide more than enough money to give him an education; almost unheard of for the likes of him. His mama understandably put all her hopes for a better life on Scotty. She thought he stood a good chance of succeeding. No one dared to fantasize about Abby’s future. They all knew the chances of her living a normal lifespan. Slim to none.
Alien Species Intervention: Books 1-3: An Alien Apocalyptic Saga (Species Intervention #6609) Page 21
