Age of Power 1: Legacy

by Jon Davis

  And, to my disappointment, even that wasn’t back to its normal craziness. Many of the chat rooms I enjoyed using over the years were still down. And the few that were active made me edgy. Every time I went into any of those chat rooms, I would get a feeling of being watched. Literally watched.

  It happened often enough that simply going into one was enough to make me tense. And yet, I had friends I wanted to talk with, to make sure they were doing okay. Because of that distraction, when my mom came down to lean on my bedroom’s doorway one morning, I didn’t even notice. When I finally did see her, I jumped at her presence.

  She chuckled and gave me a quizzical look. I leaned back in my office chair, clasped my hands atop my head, and waited for her to speak. Because I was only wearing jogging pants, I hoped she hadn’t planned to have me go out and shovel snow. Snow had just fallen, and it was getting colder. Still, with so few people to talk to at the moment and that constant sense of someone watching me, I definitely didn’t mind the interruption. She shook her head, and smiled toward my look of curiosity.

  Finally, I asked, “What’s up, Mom?”

  She smiled and said, “You haven’t even thought about it, have you? Last year, your dad gave you a car.”

  I blinked in confusion, and then it hit me what she was saying. I moved my mouse arrow over the clock at the bottom of the screen. “Holy shit, I’m eighteen!”

  She laughed and came in to give me a hug. Ruffling my hair, she said, “Come on, birthday boy, get dressed. We’re going out for breakfast, and Brand said he wanted to do something for you today.”

  She looked back at me as she walked to the door. “You really didn’t know?”

  I shook my head and said, “Nope. Thanks to all the interviews and plane hopping, it completely slipped my mind! Wow, I really need to get back to living again!”

  She gave me a thoughtful look as she said, “I think everyone does, now hurry up!”

  With that, she turned and went back upstairs. I didn’t move right away. I just sat there, thinking about the fact that I had actually forgotten my birthday. I had been going on adrenaline from one thing to the next for so long, that it was no wonder I’d lost track of days. I shook my head, and with a sigh, I went to grab a pair of pants and a shirt from the dresser. I stopped when I noticed the picture on top of it. My dad and I were in it, standing in front of the car he had bought for me last year. Unfortunately, while it was parked on the street, the car was totaled by a drunken driver only a few months after I got it.

  I smiled ruefully. Dad wasn’t going to be giving me a car this year. Thanks to Yama, things were just a tad on edge with employment and budgets. And, although my mom was still working a full-time job, my dad wasn’t. His business in construction had gone flat since the Exodus. I wasn’t too worried, I suspected he’d find something soon enough.

  Once I had clothes, I went to log off the chat room on my laptop. Before I could type in my goodbyes, though, a private message caught my eye. ‘Happy Birthday, Vaughn,’ had been typed into the chat window from a ‘P. Doxis.’ That was impossible. No one could know who I really was in that chat room. I hadn’t said anything personal about myself, and I went online as VladDImp. A cold feeling crawled up my throat. I was feeling like I was being watched…again.

  No one else saw it. I asked how this P. Doxis knew of me. The private message didn’t go through. And a quick look at the room list told me that P. Doxis had left. I was about to ask if there was anyone in the room who had talked with the mysterious P. Doxis, but just then, my mom called for me to hurry up. With a sigh, I closed the laptop and left the room to go take a shower.

  Before too long, said birthday boy—that being me—was enjoying a nice breakfast at Celia’s Restaurant. A long, rectangular café on Main Street, Celia’s was almost fifty years old, and it showed. Clean but worn-looking, it wasn’t a place to go for fancy dinners. But it was still kept busy by farmers and families. The place didn’t do anything extraordinary food-wise. But I had always thought that the pancakes and omelets were fantastic. Sitting in one of the booths near the front, my parents and I talked while eating just that while catching up on events that had been going on since the memorial.

  For the most part, the area was back to normal. Or at least it looked that way. Most importantly for the region, the farmers were getting back to work. They were beginning to plant, even though it still felt like winter these days.

  Apparently, the weather patterns were chaotic due to the near brush with Yama. Snow was still coming down across the Midwest and temperatures were fluctuating wildly. The sudden changes in temperature were causing problems with flash floods in the rivers and lakes. Adding to the snowstorms were early season tornadoes and mysterious and sudden “burst” storms in the southern states. But while it was hard on the country, people were moving on. That held true for Riverlite, as well.

  Then, finally, Mom got to the heart of things as she said, “So, son, are you going to come out of the ‘man cave’ you’ve turned your bedroom into?”

  I winced, but continued eating. My parents looked at me, though, waiting. Finally, I said, “Um, yeah. I suppose I should. I’m sorry I’ve been such a hermit.”

  My dad coughed and then said, “Look, son, I know that it’s been hard for you. All those interviews would take a toll on anyone. And we know what happened at the school…but—”

  I held a hand up as I said, “Dad, Andrews’s grandson did his best to humiliate me in front of an entire crowd of Avatar nuts! Yeah, it’s been hard!”

  And there it was, one of the underlying problems going on. Most of the people of Riverlite had returned home, true. But we also got something more. We got fans of the Avatar moving to Riverlite as well. These were not families intending to find a new life here; they were people who were obsessed with Alex. They were the same type of people that had been berating me on the streets. In short, we were getting zealots.

  I looked at my parents and saw that it also troubled them. My dad said, “You didn’t go into detail, but since Andrews’s grandson was involved, we suspected that something went down at the high school.”

  Dropping my gaze to my plate, I said, “Yeah. Bobby Andrews was there. He saw me and came over. We had some words, and after making it clear that I was scum to people there…”

  I looked at them and said, “Judas is a nice word, right?”

  My mind went back to what had happened. After flying all over the country, I had needed a touchstone to normalcy. That’s why I had gone walking around. And it had helped—somewhat. Meandering around the blocks in the southern part of town, I passed Brand’s place. Seeing that he wasn’t home, I walked up Kurtz Avenue towards the high school. Walking around the entire school block, I thought about next year’s graduating class and how they would handle things, given the Day and the Exodus.

  My thoughts drifted to the events of the Day as I walked around the school grounds. I didn’t pay attention to what was going on around me until I reached the area where Alex had lifted off. My attention came back to the world when I ran into a group of zealous believers of the Avatar. They were working on plans to place a memorial marker of their own making. A couple of people were digging up the ground near the maple. The rest of the group was waiting for them to finish to place a two-foot high memorial sign dedicated to Alex—The Avatar.

  I watched them for a few moments until someone recognized me. That someone was Bobby Andrews. He yelled at me, I tried to wave him off, he didn’t stop, instead he told the group who I was and things began to get nasty. Shovels were waved threateningly, and ‘Judas’ was actually the nicest thing they called me. I’d never felt so vulnerable. Not since Jessup and his friends grabbed Brand and me.

  What confused me about the whole thing was that it actually made no sense that Bobby Andrews would be the one pushing all those hard-case believers on like that. I knew he had no love for Alex. The day Alex came out of the closet to people, not showing off or anything, but just being honest about himself,
Bobby Andrews also came out, as majorly homophobic.

  He turned out to be such a homophobe that kids in school had bets that those two would try to kill each other before graduation day. Alex’s dad did nothing to stop it, but given their attitude towards Alex, Bobby was only the loudest of the family hate parade that Brian Shaw had married into, with his own son as the target. Yet now, there he was, calling me a traitor to Alex’s memory and pushing the group at me.

  But while Bobby was bad enough, the rest started screaming and yelling threats against me, against Brand, and even against Mom and Dad. They were just so damn hate-filled. I pushed the words from my mind. I didn’t want to think about it with my parents sitting across from me. I hadn’t known people could be like that.

  Now, I looked at my mom as she said, “Vaughn, I know it was a horrible experience, but you have to keep pushing back. I know people can be frightening when they are in a mob mentality. But if you stop talking about Alex, then, well, honey, they get what they want. Or rather, Joe Andrews gets what he wants.”

  My jaw dropped for a second before I said, “Crap. That’s why he did it. Bobby was trying to scare me on purpose.”

  Mom said, “Yes. Chief Sinclair talked with them. They won’t be bothering you again. But yes, Joe is behind it.

  My dad said, “Vaughn, you embarrassed Joe. You knew he was going to do something.”

  It clicked. I wasn’t stupid. I said, “So I was right in guessing that Andrews is the one behind the Avatar craze.”

  My mom said, “Joe has been pushing it, and, yes, he was behind the resistance you ran into during those interviews.”

  I stared at her. That was something I really hadn’t brought up to my parents while I was on the interview circuit. I asked, “How did you find that out?”

  My parents glanced at each other. Then she said, “We watched the interviews. And when they began to get nasty, some information about Alex was said that only a few people knew. So I did some checking with my friends in the court system. It took a bit, but I found out that the information could only have come from the Andrews family.”

  Ah, that explained a lot. The hard turnabout by the interviewers suddenly made a lot of sense. I should have realized this before. Go up against a millionaire, and he’ll come back at you in so many directions that you’ll be overwhelmed.

  Mom sighed. “Honey, we meant to tell you. I’m sorry, we knew this and didn’t say anything until we we’re sure that I was right. And with the way you felt at the time you came home, I didn’t want to burden you.”

  I waved that away. “Don’t worry about it Mom. No one was seriously out to hurt me. And if you had told me, I probably would have given up sooner. The way people are acting about Alex…I think it’s too late to convince people to treat him like a human being. Now, knowing that Joe Andrews is involved, well, I guess I just wasted my time.”

  My dad set his glass down with a distinct thump, glaring at me for a moment. Then he said, “No. You did exactly what you needed to do. Kiddo, not everybody is buying this Avatar religion crap. We want you to get back out there and live life again. That’s the important thing. And while Joe Andrews is not going to go away, you shouldn’t let him control you. Ever.”

  I took that in and asked, “When did you two become activists?”

  My mom chuckled and said, “Since you did. Look, for now, let’s not worry about it. Brand asked me to tell you to stop by the library. He said he wanted to talk to you and Dana about something. How about you head over and have some fun with Brand and we’ll talk more tonight.”

  I nodded, wondering what Brand was up to that required meeting at the library. Scooting out of the booth, I said my goodbyes and headed to the door while slipping on my jacket and hat. My mom called out to me once more as I opened the door.

  Looking back, I asked, “Yeah, Mom?”

  “Happy Birthday, son, and I want no drinking. Love you!” she quipped. I just smiled.

  “Thanks, damn, and love you too!” I answered with a grin.

  Heading out, I walked up to Library Square, happy that it was only a block away. It was April, but instead of the warm spring weather we’d had in the past few years, today had a northern wind carrying a cool snap to it. The meteorologists were right about the weather shifts. I put my head down and walked briskly up the block. Passing the big United Bank building, I saw on the corner time and temperature sign that it was just above freezing. I quickly crossed the corner to Library Square.

  Sometime in the 1930s, there had been this rich guy in town who had loved books and wanted people to read and learn as much as possible. Lyle Graettinger had decided to contribute his entire book collection to the town library. As there was no actual building for a stand-alone library, he’d paid to have this place built. On the day it had opened, he’d donated the building and the land to the town.

  However, he agreed to donate the library only if the townspeople promised that they wouldn't tear down the building or build anything else around it on the block. He wanted the open area turned into a park for families and children. I wasn’t going to argue with his wishes; the place looked nice.

  The library was a sand-colored stone and brick building. Surrounding the building was hillocks that were covered with snow. The sidewalks wound outward from the library in long curves leading to the streets. Set in the exact center of Library Square, the library itself had large wide steps with long with stone retaining walls on each side. The walls curved downward to semi-Gothic designed lamps on each side of the steps.

  Graettinger had chosen this city block because it was the technical center of Riverlite. The man had built it to specifications of being a sort of compass, with the front door pointed directly south. It was still the center of the town, though for a short while the town had planned to expand the place.

  But the Iowa State Historical Society stopped the plans when they pointed out that Graettinger had left stipulations about the building in his will. The courts upheld the will, so no one could change the building structure. In retrospect, that was probably a good thing. With the coming of the electronic book, it probably wouldn’t be long before the town closed the place or turned it into a social center as books went the way of the dinosaur. I hoped I was wrong.

  I went up the stairs went inside to stand directly in front of the checkout counter where a large compass design made of black and turquoise colored marble with gray speckles was laid out on the floor.

  The flooring made a nice complement to the cream and tan highlights of the place. The large stained-glass circular bay windows complemented both floor and furniture. The windows didn’t open, but the rectangular windows on the sides and front did, allowing airflow through the library in both spring and fall. In the summer, they usually had the central air going, and the furnace kept the large space warm on days like today.

  Standing on the compass, I realized that I was alone in the room. “Uh, hello? Is anyone here? Brand?”

  No one answered. Then, maybe because I was curious, the vibrating of my nerves shifted upward a notch, and I started hearing voices. “BJ, stop bouncing around, we don’t want him to hear us.”

  I grimaced. I could hear Brand whispering something about making BJ stay outside in the cold. Then I heard laughing, breathing, and shoes skidding across the floor. After weeks of silence, my super-hearing was back. Still, no one had to know their intended surprise had been spoiled. Walking forward, I looked around, calling out to see if anyone was there. When no one responded, I rang the little bell on the counter.

  “Surprise!” Everyone yelled as they jumped up from behind the counter.

  I laughed and acted surprised. My hearing issues weren’t their fault, after all. And I was surprised to see some of the people who were there. One, Max Pearson, had been a close friend until we were in ninth grade, when his family moved south to Louisiana.

  Taller now, he had grown an inch past me, and he now shaved his jet-black hair down to the scalp. He even sported a slight chin bea
rd. Max had driven here from his home in Compton, Louisiana. He’d stopped here on his way to Minnesota to check out a possible college to attend. Brand had called about the birthday and asked him to come.

  I had some more surprises. On the way here, he had picked up another old friend, a dear one. Danielle Franks was a lithely built, auburn-haired nineteen year-old who loved comics almost as much as I did. She hugged me tightly, and I could smell the familiar odor of lilacs in her hair. She had been my first crush. You never forget your first crush.

  Pulling back from me, Danielle smiled. “You’ve been a busy boy. Max and I saw you on television. When Brand called us up about your birthday we both decided to head up here.”

  I looked over at my oldest friend. “You did this?”

  Brand snorted and said, “Doofus. It’s your eighteenth birthday! Did you think I was going to simply drop by and casually wish you a good day? Not a chance, Vaughn. Now, forget all that weird stuff with the Avatar and enjoy this!”

  “Besides, the library has been quiet as a tomb lately, what with the schools closed, that I figured it wouldn’t hurt to close for a private party. Now, like Brand said, Enjoy!” Dana said as she wheeled out a cake on one the book carts

  I tried to blow out the candles, and then again, and finally a third time. Everyone was laughing by the time the last one went out. I gave Brand a mock glare for the trick candles. He just waved his hands in innocence. Then, with a click of a remote he pulled from his shirt pocket, music came from the intercom system.

  For the rest of the day, we danced, laughed, joked around, and even watched a movie from the library’s DVD selection. As the party continued, people brought out presents. Naturally, for me, there were comics, new and old, and history books from Danielle. She knew I loved history—European, American, Indian, Chinese—all of history that I could get my hands on.

  For my birthday, she had gotten me a set of books on the Tudors. She’d picked it up in a used bookstore in Saint Louis near her dorm room building. I asked her about it, and she said she was happy with college. They were finally starting classes again, though most students would have to do summer classes to catch up.