Aegis: Catalyst Grove (4 page)

Ms. Winstone let the ringing stop before speaking again.
 
“We will talk about this later.
 
For now, I expect you to understand that you are not to go to Wellington.
 
I know you love it there, but it is simply too dangerous.
 
Also, you must learn to confide in someone, Graham.
 
All orphans struggle with trust, especially when the people who were suppose provide love and care abandon them.
 
I get it, I really do.
 
Your parents may not be here, but I am.
 
Mr. Kobble is here as well, and we are not leaving anytime soon, so if you need anyone to talk to, then you can rely on us to listen.
 
Now, I suppose all of your game playing has made you work up quite an appetite.”

“Yes, ma’am.”
 
In Graham’s disappointment, that was all he could muster.
 
The mention of his parents made his cringe.
If she only knew…

“Well, why don’t you go get ready for dinner then.
 
I can smell the fresh biscuits coming out of the oven now.”
 

“Yes, ma’am.”
 

Graham’s stomach rumbled as he stiffened his legs to stand up out of his chair.
 
As he turned around and grabbed the door handle, Ms. Winstone’s voice followed him out with one final reply.

“Remember Graham, putting yourself out there may indeed expose you to pain, but it also opens you up to the good things in life like love and companionship.
 
Those who reach out for help usually find it.”

Without turning around, Graham gave a light nod of his head and continued out the door.
 
He did not want to talk to anyone.
 
He made his way to dinner and sat at the long dining room table in a daze as Damien ranted on and on about one of the kids who was pranked by being blasted with the “broth bath,” which meant that someone had put chicken bouillon cubes in the shower head.
 
Every so often, Graham would nod or give an
‘uh-huh’
or
‘yep’
so that he seemed like he was following the story.
 
Finally, the gongs of the grandfather clocks gave their bed-time chimes.
 

Saved by the clock, Graham made a quick escape to his room.
 
Neglecting the normal bedtime routines or any form of hygiene, Graham pulled off his shirt and jeans to slip into his ragged, white t-shirt and a pair of torn mesh shorts.
 
Once in the safety of his bed, he grabbed his small rubber ball and tossed it above his face.
 
Tossing the ball mindlessly up and down was his nightly routine to help clear his head.
 
After about ten minutes, he felt the first tug of exhaustion.
 
He put the ball back on the small table beside his bed.
 
Then, pulling the covers over his head, he willed himself to sleep.

“Control…Cavaness, you have to help me control it...” he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

Night Terrors

A warm breeze blew through the leaves as the couple walked along a wide trail in the woods with their two year old boy.
 
The dad wore jeans and a blue button down shirt and walked hand in and with his wife, who was wearing a yellow and white summer dress.
 
The little boy reached out his hand as the mom took hold of it.
 

“Climb?” the boy asked.
 

“Yes, dear, you can climb.”
 
The little boy giggled as he began walking up the fallen tree trunk.
 
As he got near the end of it, he looked at his dad.
 

“‘ump?
 
Peese j..ump?”
 

“Yes, Graham, you can jump.”
 
The dad took hold of Graham’s hand as he squatted down and leapt from the fallen tree.
 
The boy giggled as his feet hit the ground, followed by his stomach.
 
His dad smiled and dusted off his jeans and orange t-shirt, gently setting him back on his feet.
 
Not wanting a good tree trunk to go to waste, Graham tried to go back to do it again, but his mom and dad kept hold of his hands as they continued down the trail.
 

“I love you, baby boy,” the mom said.
 

“Ouve ouuu,” the two year old Graham replied.
 

The couple strolled along for a few minutes until they saw a clearing under a cluster of oak trees.

 
“There is a little open area right over there to sit down for lunch.
 
How about it, Graham?
 
Are you getting hungry son?” the dad asked.

“Eat!” Graham eagerly replied.

“Yes, eat.
 
You need to eat so you can get big and strong like daddy.”
 
The dad raised his arm and flexed his bicep.
 
He belted out a laugh as Graham tried to imitate him by curling his arm.
 
“I love you, son.”

“Ouve ouuu da-di…..Eat?”

The dad smiled.
 
“Yes, eat.”
 
He rustled his fingers through the little boy’s hair.
 
“You know, you are a special little boy, Graham.
 
You make mommy and daddy very happy and very proud.”

The small family spread out a blue plaid blanket and set out a wicker picnic basket.
 
The mom popped the latch and removed two ham and swiss sandwiches cut perfectly from corner to corner, and one smaller PB&J sandwich that was one slice of bread folded over on itself.
 
Following the sandwiches was some fresh fruit and some white linen napkins.
 
Graham grabbed the first thing he could reach, taking a huge bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then another and another.
 
The dad and mom both unwrapped their sandwiches, completely unaware of the large wave of smoke approaching quickly behind them.

Graham sat and stared as the wave got bigger, towering over the tops of the trees, resembling a tidal wave from a hurricane.
 
As it moved closer, the trees began to bend, and then disappear in the billowing wake.
 
Feeling the growing intensity of the wind, the dad turned around in shock.
 
In an instant and with one swoop of his arm, he swiftly tucked his wife and child behind his back.
 

“STAY BEHIND ME!”
 
He had a controlled urgency in his voice; the type of tone that left no room for objection.
 
Graham huddled behind his father feeling his strong arms push him closer to his mother.
 
“No matter what, stay behind me!”
 
It was hard to hear him over the roaring of the winds and the terrifying wall of swirling black smoke.

In a moment of unanticipated fear and anxiety, Graham cried out in a loud squeal.
 
Flashes of light shot all around the family, penetrating the large wall of smoke.
 

“I’ll die before you take them!”
 

More flashes of light streamed before Graham’s eyes, followed by loud, blood curdling shrieks from the mom.
 
Graham sat there unable to process what was going on.
 
Without thinking, he simply reacted with more wailing as the entire forest was enveloped in blinding light.
 
Graham’s scream lasted for what seemed like an eternity, then nothing.
 
Silence overtook the noise as darkness eclipsed the light.
 
Graham’s head began to swim.
 
His little body began to shake until he fell on his side and went limp.

With a jolt of adrenaline, Graham sat straight up in his bed, snapping out of the nightmare.
 
Large beads of sweat streamed down his face.
 
In a split second before it all came crashing down, Graham noticed everything around him suspended in midair, as if all his belongings were being held up by invisible strings.
 
The small metal night-table with the cup of water, his treasured rubber ball, a picture frame, miscellaneous books and notepads, and even his footlocker full of clothes were all hanging there like marionette puppets.
 
He caught a quick glimpse of it all before it came crashing down around him.
 
With resounding thuds of his wooden footlocker, followed by the hollow ring of his cup hitting the wooden floor, Graham realized that once again his nightmare had caused this freakish, unexplainable reaction.
 
This time, however, he had caused an actual earthquake.
 

All of the kids were beginning to wake, looking around as they sat up like statues in their beds.
 
The entire Orphanage was shaking.
 
A large crack formed in the floor, just under Graham’s bed.
 
The quake lasted for a few moments after Graham woke up, and then slowly dissipated.
 
Mr. Kobble ran into the room to check on the children.
 
Ms. Winstone was doing the same in the girl’s wing.
 

“Easy there, lads.
 
It was just eh tremor.
 
Ev’rything is alright now.
 
We may feel a few aftershocks, but the worst is behind us.”
 

All the boys in the room began to squirm.
 
This was the first time something like this had happened.
 
Mr. Kobble quickly made his way around the beds checking on each boy individually.
 
Seeing that Graham was covered in sweat, he became concerned.
 
“Yer really shaken, Mr. Graham.
 
Do you need some water to calm the nerves?”

“Nn..no sir.
 
I’m fine.
 
I am just not used to the building shaking like that.
 
I’m fine.
 
Really.”

“Alright, lad.
 
If yer sure.”

Mr. Kobble gave Graham a few pats on the back, then stood up and checked on the other children, and then made his way into the next room.

As Graham sat there, large drops of sweat dripped off the end of his nose while his lungs gasped for air.
 
He felt like he had just run a marathon.
 
His lungs huffed and his head swirled with pain and confusion.
 
His eyes darted back and forth over his scattered belongings.
 
He held both sides of his head, trying to ease the pain with deep breaths to control his panicking lungs.

“Mom….Dad,” Graham whispered in a quivering voice.
 

The pounding of his head echoed his throbbing heart.
 
What did I do?
 
A tidal wave of guilt washed over him, crushing his spirit.
 
He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his emotions at bay.
 
What did I do to you?
 
I’m sorry.
 
I am so sorry.
 

With his head still pounding, Graham twisted his legs to the side of the bed and slowly put both feet on the ground.
 
The scenes in his head were still reeling from the nightmare, and the earthquake still had him a bit disoriented.
 
Graham pushed his knuckles down into the firm mattress, standing to his feet.
 
His legs were a little shaky, but after taking another deep breath, he stood up, grabbed the rubber ball from the floor, and quietly made his way past the other beds to the window in the far left corner of the room.
 
Fortunately for him, the other boys in his room were mingling together, talking about the thrill of it all.
 
This allowed Graham to retreat and be alone.

Graham’s sorrow for the fate of his parents slowly began to morph into self-pity.
 
Graham crossed his arms on top of the window sill, and placed his chin on top of his arms.
 
As he rolled the ball around mindlessly in his hand, he peered into the darkness of the storm clouds, letting out a small sigh.
 
It was a cliché stormy night; the type of weather that mimicked the emotion he held inside.
 
As rain began to pelt the glass of the window, Graham stared off beyond the cliffs to the small outline of the lake in the distance.
 
He lived in a large building surrounded by people, yet, at this moment, he felt completely alone.
 
Worse yet, he felt like a freak.
 
He didn’t want to push people away. To the contrary, he wanted just the opposite, but his dream was a constant reminder that when he let people get close, they got hurt.
 
He could not let that happen.
 
All he wanted to be was normal.
 
The burden of his unexplainable secret was beginning to crush his soul after years of holding it all inside.
 
He wondered if he would ever feel happy again.