by Jaime Mera
Estabon and Eduardo looked towards the door sensing their father approaching it through their father’s eyes. The chicken with vegetable dinner slid over the bed in front of Estabon’s eager appetite.
Lucy kissed her son while Edmond entered the room with a half smile. “How are you my son?” His handsome Hispanic features didn’t distinguish his origin, but his Colombian accent was unmistakable.
“I’m a lot better, dad.” Estabon smiled as he and Eduardo spoke privately about what the doctors told their parents and how to best put the incident under the carpet.
Edmond grabbed Estabon’s hand and gave Lucy a hug with his arm. “Good, good. The doctor said it was a fainting spell but can’t find why it happened. You will be staying here a few days for observation. If everything is fine, you can come home.”
“I will leave you alone with your family; if you need anything just ring the desk.” Shannon left the room with Eduardo sitting by the foot of the bed.
“It will be okay dad.” Eduardo said as both brothers saw what their parents worried about. “You’ll see.”
“I’m going to clean up my room, I promise.” Estabon mumbled with a fork full of veggies.
Edmond chuckled under his breath, while Lucy smiled putting a hand on Estabon’s shoulder. “Don’t worry Estabon; we just want you to be happy and healthy.”
“We are happy and I’m okay, really.” Estabon replied.
The television on a stand by the door wall became the focus of attention as the family stretched visiting hours to its limit.
“Estabon, I have to warn you about several things so you don’t get into a really bad situation.” Eduardo spoke as they watched television and spoke about school and work.
“Don’t tell anyone what you can do or show off what you know. I really want to help people, but that’s only a dream of mine for now. But you already know this.”
“I understand, so how do we help people?” Estabon’s compassion and willingness to help others gave Eduardo great comfort, but also placed an added sense of responsibility if his younger brother were to be hurt. They would be stealing information on purpose, but that was as far as he could figure out. Taking money from criminals or providing incriminating information to law enforcement would make them targets or place them in situations they were currently ill equipped to handle; especially as minors. Helping people manage through their feelings and financial problems was something they could also do, but that also would single them out at their age.
“For now, we learn as much as possible. Just like I learned nine degrees and experiences in many fields; we need to learn more. Languages will be something you will see that you need, otherwise you won't understand the thoughts of a new language until you sift through their thoughts and learn it as they did. But that doesn’t help you in speaking; you need to practice the motor skills necessary to include every new skill you learn, like sports. So we learn from the experts and professionals, just by getting close to them. We also learn how organized crime operates in the minds of criminals; which we can do by pulling up next to them in a car. Lastly, you will notice that you have a small amount of telekinetic ability. With practice I think we should be able to turn tumblers in a lock or maybe something bigger. I don’t know the full extent right now but I can move a pen across a table.” Eduardo explained all the details in less than a minute.
“We need to get some money for a car.” Estabon smiled, knowing Eduardo would be getting his license next year.
“We need to learn what we can, and take care of mom and dad.”
“That’s a given.” Estabon and Eduardo planned to slowly show them their ability to cook, fix just about anything in the house and probably provide the home with added income which their father was too proud to admit they needed.
The Ramirez family stayed in the room for a few hours, before Estabon was left alone, excited about his future and thankful for the increased closeness he now had with his brother and parents.
Chapter 2
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Fatal Encounter
Langley Park, February, 1962
Riveted to the store displays, people huddled to see reporting of John Glenn’s orbit around the Earth. Many people had televisions in their homes, but the attraction of going to the outside plaza with the family was still strong in a growing economy. Estabon stood next to Edmond as people cheered and told tales of what it meant for the space program. Estabon however was busy taking in any important information from people around him.
The years proved to be exceptionally enlightening. He and Eduardo could think about each other and mentally communicate hundreds of miles apart. At least that was the limit due to their lack of not being further apart since the hospital. This time was no exception as what he mentally saw so did Eduardo.
A man approaching an elderly couple, James and Betty Kingston, drew their attention. The surface thoughts of the man entered Estabon’s mind, but nothing more. He pulled away from his father’s side, and walked towards the man and the Kingstons, fifty feet across the plaza walkway. “Get down!” Was all Estabon could say as the man pulled out a Colt revolver; emptying the bullets into the couple.
Screams and chaos took over the scene as the man ran off through a small crowd and into an AC Greyhound sports car pausing to pick up the man. Estabon looked and sprinted towards the couple. The driver of the Greyhound car gave him what he wanted, so he focused on James and Betty. As many people ran away from the initial gunshots, many were still on the cold icy wet cement when Estabon stepped on the large blood puddles. Without hesitation, his hands moved to the proper locations on Betty’s body.
“James. Help my James.” Betty cried, feeling numbness in her legs and seeing Estabon’s face thinking he was an older person, not realizing he was only fifteen.
“Hold still Mrs. Kingston.” He put pressure on her shoulder wound with one hand and started taking off his belt with the other.
“James!” Was her horrifying reply as she turned her head in his direction. James’ bloody corpse lying motionless beside her.
“Your husband is dead Mrs. Kingston.” Estabon stopped midway on his belt and used his hand to grab her by the face; forcing her eyes to meet his. “Look at me! Helen and James junior need you, so please think about them.”
Betty stared into Estabon’s fearless eyes. “What do you want me to do young man?” She struggled to say with mucus and tears on her face, her left hand on her chest.
Edmond knelt by their side as did several other courageous witnesses. Emergency people were on their way, but the bleeding had to be stopped. Estabon knew a surgeon’s expertise, but he never had an opportunity to use it on a human being. His hand trembled for a few seconds as the realization of Betty’s probable plight crossed his mind. Added hands allowed him to place her in the best position to reduce bleeding, use his belt as a tourniquet and identify if a round was still in her body. Everyone, along with Edmond was awed by the teenager’s decisive orders, even though he could have passed for a young medical student. The problem was Estabon didn’t have the right tools to be able to give Betty needed fluids and at very least, plasma. He used his surgery skill to feel for the projectile and telekinesis to move the round out of her leg, but shock was his main concern.
Betty was a strong woman, going through rough times, knowing the danger her husband was in by defying mafia influences. However, the painful lose and bleakness of James’ last few seconds and Betty’s ongoing horror weighed on Estabon’s mature and professionally reinforced personality. An ambulance arrived to his relief letting him focus on giving the paramedics an accurate diagnosis of the situation.
The medics looked at him for a moment, but Estabon’s precise details covered all of their would be probing questions.
Edmond held Estabon’s shoulders standing behind him as the ambulance left the scene. Police officers were directing people to move away from James’ body and gathering willing witnesses. The officers corralled the group of witnesses into F
inch’s clothing store, keeping them warm and isolating them to sections of the store. Edmond and Estabon’s statements were simple because Edmond didn't see the shooting or getaway. Estabon told the police what he saw from a normal perspective; leaving the rest to Eduardo.
“I got you covered brother.” Eduardo said, as he anonymously called the police with all the information about the Greyhound getaway car, the driver and the assassin, Ron Adler. The information would be enough for probable cause and the eye witnesses would place Ron or his boss in the District Attorney’s crosshairs.
“Thanks.” Estabon being a minor gave him some leeway, but it also brought unwanted attention to his medical performance.
“We’ll use this to our advantage. You already have a choice of scholarships so this will assure your acceptance to MIT.” Eduardo said, having already been accepted to the University of Michigan.
Estabon sat with Edmond, his dark blue coat was still damp from water and blood residue Edmond was unable to rinse out. Dried blood high up along Estabon’s elbows rubbed with his long sleeve shirt. Of all the minds he had read, none compared to the cold darkness of death. He closed his eyes trying not to tremble, clenching his fists, as the emotions he had experienced in the past through the minds of veterans, professionals in all fields and people who lost family and friends helped in coping with the moment. Now, he could add his own personal experience; seeing death and sorrow firsthand. He leaned on his father’s chest, resting his head, as people came by trying to meet or congratulate the heroic teen. Their intentions were not in vain as Estabon saw their deepest thoughts, but he wanted nothing more than to just go home.
“Brother, how come I couldn’t see Ron Adler’s plan or memories?” Estabon asked while he was on the way home in the passenger seat of their station wagon, as Edmond quietly drove.
“I never thought about it until now, but there might be people we can’t read. There might also be people like us who can read minds. But since we have been focusing on specific people and ignoring people by passing, we never noticed. From now on, take your time reading everyone’s thoughts. We need to find these people who are immune or have our abilities.” Eduardo’s thoughts included a detailed plan on how to find them and what to do once any were found.
The following weeks brought reporters to the house as Betty Kingston survived her injuries, but the Ramirez family always knew what to say to make the incident seem like a fluke. Estabon’s acceptance to MIT also averted attention to him and not the family as both brothers left for universities in separate states.
The wonder boy lived up to his reputation as a better than perfect student, intentionally missing a question here and there but always missing less than everyone else. The brothers made money by editing documents and tutoring as they both excelled in their pursuit of education. The excess income was sent to care for Edmond and Lucy, as the age of spaceflight and politics dominated headlines.
Even though his transcript read a double Master’s in Economic and Architectural Engineering, the first two years at MIT gave Estabon access to forty new doctorates. Estabon’s imaginary world became worlds as he compartmented education to specific planets in star systems reflecting the actual celestial bodies in the night sky. However, the fatal encounter in Langley Park still nagged at him and it was time he did something about it.
A sign on his weekly trip to a study session caught his attention. ‘Martial Arts Training of Ninpo; an Ancient form of Combat.’ The storefront was in a very small lot, next to a mom and pop that took focus away from it. He quickly parked his bicycle and looked in through a small window. A handful of men in gray and black shinobi shozoku outfits watched a demonstration by the Taishu (Grand Master). The short corridor to the main room led to the rear which couldn’t be seen from the window, but he saw it from the men’s minds and their perspectives. He watched for a minute and continued on to his tutoring session.
“What are you doing brother?” Eduardo asked as Estabon tutored Calculus to eight students.
“I’m going over the techniques and I’m going to learn the martial arts with them.” Estabon allowed Eduardo to see all of the experiences and information the six Ninjutsu martial artists gave him.
Estabon felt Eduardo’s smile. “Good, I was hoping you would take a step towards combat. I will go to the martial arts locations around here, but I have been strongly considering the military.”
“I understand, talk to you soon.” Estabon replied; over the years being able to keep memories and thoughts private. A decision made by both brothers to give their lives a way of needed reflection in solitude to heal tragic and horrible memories; as well as be able to have private relationships with the opposite sex.
The important effect the brothers counted on was the exposure to leading engineers and scientists linked to the schools and their surroundings. The martial arts masters and military would allow them to expand. The plan was to learn in stages and they would enter the stage of combat before actually fighting evil.
Tutoring couldn’t finish quick enough as Estabon raced back to the dojo. It was dinner time, but someone forgot to tell the master and his students. Estabon walked into the dojo as if he owned it. The front counter and every inch of the property were well known to him, down to the cracks, broken furniture, faded paint marks, and supplies in closest and cabinets. The front counter was unattended. They were probably not expecting any more Japanese students, being the dojo sign outside was written in Japanese, and class was in session.
He walked past the counter, through fifteen feet of the narrow corridor. The dinging, swashing and clanking of blades shashed to a halt giving the soft matting under the sparing men’s feet a rest. There were twelve men now, all looking at Estabon in his collared short−sleeve shirt and unorthodox jeans. “Taishu Hachiro, please excuse my interruption, but I wish to learn the Ninpo arts.” Estabon spoke in fluent Japanese as he respectfully bowed.
Estabon read the new members’ thoughts and memories, adding to his knowledge of all they had learned to perfection. He was well built and tall, but to the Taishu, he was a foreigner. A foreigner he didn’t know and expected not to commit to the clan’s way. “This school is by invitation only.” Grand Master Hachiro lied.
“With all due respect, Taishu. I can prove myself and maybe you can invite me to return.” Estabon kept his glare at the master’s chest instead of his eyes. Half of the students liked Estabon’s wit, but the other half saw only a young and rude foreigner.
“Your Japanese is excellent, where did you learn it?” Hachiro stood in the middle of the forty by thirty foot room; five paces from Estabon. His very short gray hair and small facial scars showed his aged and deserved authority.
“I learned from my friends when I was eleven, and I know Ninjutsu to some degree, which is why I came here.” Estabon honestly replied.
“How old are you?” Hachiro took two paces towards him with his hands resting on his waistline.
“I’m seventeen, my name is Estabon Ramirez, my parents are in Maryland and I’m a student at MIT graduating next year with two PhDs.” Estabon answered the follow-up questions Hachiro was already strategically lining up.
“I see…” Hachiro looked around at his students. The youngest was also seventeen put had been taught the art as a babe. He looked at his top pupil. Takeo Endo gave a slight head bow accepting his master’s decision. “If you’re familiar with Ninpo, take a Shinai and post yourself here and recite the eighteen disciplines.” Hachiro pointed at the mat in front of him with extended fingers and flat palm.
Estabon removed his shoes with his feet and looked on the wall. Multiple weapons hung on pegs or were stored on brackets. He walked up to the wall as the students moved to the perimeter of the light brown mat. Without hesitation, he grabbed the bamboo sword least liked by all the students. It was in need of aesthetic repair but worked well enough. Takeo was ready with his Shinai as Estabon stood on the location Grand Master Hachiro indicated. Estabon began reciting the eighteen discip
lines. Some of the students betrayed a half smile, but to any normal person, it would have been a show of an inside joke or contempt for the foreigner. Estabon was ready and intentionally ended the list with Boryaku, tactics.
Takeo slid along the mat from behind Estabon, expecting his Shinai to make contact with the young man’s back. Estabon instantly stepped forward rising and twirling his Shinai’s hilt, sword end pointing down, placing it where his back used to be. The bamboo swords slapped sharply, as Estabon sprung forward swiping with his foot at Takeo’s leading calf.
Takeo lost his balance, but not his instincts as he fell and swung the Shinai away from the impact of the weapons and around over his body as he lay flat on the mat trying to sweep Estabon’s feet with it.
Estabon hopped over the swinging bamboo sword with uncanny precision from his awkward position after following through on Takeo’s leg; landing in a ready stance next to him. Estabon’s Shinai’s blunt saki-gawa, a blunt point end, pressed on Takeo’s neck.
“Surprise is a tactic few expect.” Estabon’s elegance even impressed himself, as his body was well conditioned by other stretching and gymnastics he conducted since high school.
Takeo relaxed his grip on his sword and smiled. “I will remember that.” He said in English. The middle aged man took Estabon’s extended hand; rising to his feet.
Hachiro walked up to them. “You’ll have to fill out some papers and your parents will need to approve you being taught here. It will cost a monthly fee and you will have to pay for your personal equipment. Taibushi Endo will show you around and get you started.”
“Thank you, Grand Master.” Estabon bowed and followed Takeo to an adjacent room connecting to the mom and pop store.
Estabon saw the group had accepted him to a degree, some skeptical and wary, but impressed with him for being the only person to have countered the dojo’s initiation for beginners and defeating Takeo Endo, a Grand Warrior.
