Chapter Five
Arriving at his destination, Michael pulled to a stop across from a green colored house he had never seen before. Watching intently he was curious as to why he was here in the first place.
Allowing his gift to oversee his every move didnt always pay off. Some days, like today, he was stuck with no idea what he was there for. He would only know when whatever he was there for came into view. He knew it wasn't the girl she lived on the other side of town. This was someone new, just another piece to the puzzle.
Michael could feel his head swelling with questions as to how many people were actually involved in this game. Normally with any project he took on there were only one maybe two people involved, like a mother and a child or a ruined relationship, this already has come to be one of the most intriguing adventures he has come across. He could tell there were multiple players. This, whatever this was, is big.
Trying to keep his mind off the obvious he surveyed the surroundings. He could tell a lot about someone by the way they lived and the condition of their residence.
The house was well kept but looked too small for his taste. The yard was freshly mowed with red roses lining the gate. On the porch was a swing with cushions that matched the color of the house. The car parked in the driveway was a 1998 Oldsmobile "88" Royale, grey in color which somehow blended harmoniously with the surrounding area even though the house was more of a tasteless Malibu green.
From its look he was sure this was the home of an older couple. There was nothing out of play, no bicycles or toys littered the front yard. For him the car said it all, what young couple would drive such an old beast of a car.
As though his thoughts were heard from inside the residence, the front door opened and a young man stepped out. If only to say "ha ha.... you were wrong."
"Must live with his grandparents then." Michael thought.
Someone old lived here. The boy carried a black back pack over one side of his shoulder. With his blue jeans, white t-shirt, varsity jacket, and athletic build, he assumed this kid was active in highschool sports.
He watched as the young man placed the pack on the ground and locked the front door.
"Huh!! Paranoid old people..."
The boy grabbed his pack and made his way to the latched front gate. As he came closer to the gate Michael was able to make out more of the boys face and his mouth instantly went dry.
The young man had golden brown hair that he kept well-groomed and parted on the same side as the non-existent child. He couldnt tell the color of the teenagers eyes from this distance but he could see from his facial features that he looked like an almost exact older replica of the child Michael currently had harbored in his home.
The small frail child with no name who would not speak and barely ate. The child that, as each day passed, his eyes grew more distant as though he were slipping further and further away from reality. When Michael found him he was led to an empty and visibly deteriorated house by the same force that led him here today.
The boy had been sitting on the edge of a dusted mattress holding nothing more than a tattered teddy bear with one eye missing. When he looked up at Michael, his eyes had a reflecting blue and there was more life in them than what existed in them today, as if with each passing day they faded.
As he watched this kid he waited for some sort of clarity to come to him as to what was his next move. Nothing pulled at him in any given direction, not toward the boy or away. Stepping out of his vehicle he decided he would initiate first contact. As he closed his door he halted his advancements at the sound of a voice approaching from down the road.
Considering no one else was in sight he could only figure the second kid was talking to the one in front of him, who was so close yet now so far.
"Graham." The kid shouted as he ran up to the front gate.
"So his name is Graham."
With no intention of proceeding any closer to the two children he watched. This second boy was exactly the opposite of the kid he called "Graham." Dirty blond hair with no particular style, button nose that barely hung his dark sunglasses, as though he were intending to be discreet, but, he made himself look as though he were up to no good. Wearing a long black jacket, fedora and blue jeans he more resembled a reject from the Blues Brothers than some ordinary school kid. Actually he wasn't even carrying a back pack like a normal school kid.
"Huh... maybe just some punk?" He thought.
Keeping his distance he watched the two as they headed down the street in the opposite direction from which the rejected Blues Brother ran and from where Michael was parked. Keeping their heads low, as though they were plotting to flush some other nerds head in a toilet, they walked at a fast paced to the end of the block. The boy handed the jock a small piece of paper from his pocket as the jock handed him something Michael could not make out. That's when they made their departure the boy heading back toward where Michael was parked, and the jock off to school.
Being at an adjacent intersection it wouldn't be wise for him to pursue any longer. If he were to walk from his Jeep to the corner there was nothing blocking him from 'the-wannabe thugs' point of view and right now he had the feeling that discretion was best.
With the small hint of defeat he climbed back behind the wheel of his vehicle. He thought about Grahams resemblance to the child. It wouldn't have been his brother. If that were the case then why wasn't the child with him? Why was he alone in a broken down apartment in the first place? The boy hasn't spoken since Michael obtained him, not one word.
With no name Michael searched through tons of missing kids photos with nothing giving him a clue to who the child was. Why wasn't he reported missing? Another of Michaels gifts was what he referred to as "knowledge by touch." It was the first gift he had noticed when he first discovered his abilities. Everyone he touched he gains a certain amount of knowledge.
Usually if they are normal he only gains an identification mark about them, like their name and address nothing more. When they are gifted the information he receives is entirely different. No name or address, instead an unusual sense of their abilities. An image flashes in his mind and he gets a small glimpse of what they can do, not that it ever makes sense but in time he usually figures it out. In the boys instance, when Michael first went up and grabbed his hand, he saw the child standing with his arms away from his body. Lights flickered and flashed. The wind blew in every direction rousing the boys hair as he stood eyes closed and motionless. He looked different, his hair more of a light blond, and some of his features differed as well. Then all the flesh peeled from his body, his face distorted from the one he hadn't recognized to the child that stood before him today.
When scouring through the missing children's photos he had kept in mind the before and after transformation of the child, but without a name his efforts were fruitless and time consuming. When he had the chance he would have to make an effort to dig into this Graham kid. Another one of his gifts was the one that led him here today. He liked to call it "led by instinct."
Without realizing or fighting the urge he drove to these random places and was only given small clues as to why he was there in the first place. Sometimes it was helpful, like when finding the child. Other times it was a hassle, like with the teenager, because he had no idea what this kid had to do with anything. Except maybe some possible relation?
Realizing there was nothing left for him here, he turned over the engine and made his way in the opposite direction from where the jock headed but the same direction as the rejected Blues Brother. Peering at the boy as he headed off he slowed and watched him while the kid unwittingly sang and danced down the street clueless that he had ruined a perfectly good interception.
Pfft... damn punk.
So for now the mystery remains. Still having time he decided to grab a bite to eat. He rarely chose to consume anything in front of the child due to the kids lack of appetite. He felt guilty eating in front of him. Even though he was well rested, his mind was exaughsted and he looked forward to the small in-between break.