#0 - Fathers and Son

[Stardrifter]

by
Stardrifter

#0 - Fathers and Son

Lightning rips through the cloudy night sky, offering the only illumination in the darkness. Thunder rumbles but is barely audible over the raging waves of the Atlantic Ocean. A lone lighthouse sits on a cliff overlooking Amnesty Bay. A lighthouse without a light.

Thomas Curry runs down the steps of the lighthouse at breakneck speed. It's the worst storm he's seen in his entire life. The storm has knocked the power out and the backup generator hasn't kicked in. With the lighthouse out, any ships lost in the storm could come crashing into the rocky coast. To Thomas, this is unacceptable.

"I sure as hell am not going to be the first Curry to fail this lighthouse," he whispers. With no deity he believes in, he offers a prayer to the sea itself.

Taking the last few metal steps in one giant leap, Tom runs over to the backup generator. Pulling out a flashlight, he checks the obvious first. Shining the light on the fuel gauge, he finds it's full. Waving his flashlight over the generator, he runs a hand through his brown hair, down his weathered face, and through his brown goatee, as he tries to spot the problem. His flashlight finally finds the issue. A snapped belt.

Rushing over to a metal cabinet sitting up against the stone wall, Tom nearly rips the door off as he pulls it open. He quickly grabs a new belt and runs back over to the generator. Holding the flashlight in between his shoulder and cheek, he deftly rips the old belt off and puts the new one onto the generator. A quick flip of the reset switch and the generator springs to life, it's sound deafening even above the storm.

Tom runs back up the steps, sweat pouring down his face, until he reaches the top of the lighthouse. He breathes a sigh of relief when he finds the light shining bright in the darkness. He falls down onto the floor, taking a moment to rest. It doesn't take long for curiosity to overtake him and he stands back up to watch the storm.

It's been over an hour since Hurricane Daniel hit land on the coast of New England. All of the meteorologists had assured the public that Maine would see the weakest edge of the storm. If this is the weak outskirts of the hurricane, then Tom doesn't even want to imagine what's happening down south.

Tom's thoughts are interrupted by a bright flash of lightning, followed almost instantly by the roar of thunder. He instinctively ducks down under the window. This strike is so close he can feel it in his chest. When he rises he sees a man standing outside on the edge of the cliff. It's hard for Tom to make him out, but he appears to be wearing a dark blue trenchcoat with a hood pulled up over his head. The man is holding his arms over his chest, as if he has a bundle inside his coat he's holding.

"Hey! Hey you!" Tom shouts without thinking, mentally kicking himself when he realizes the man couldn't hear him from all the way up here, let alone in the raging hurricane. Tom runs back down the lighthouse stairs and opens the door. The wind howls and sends rain flying inside. It takes all his strength to keep the door from banging back and forth against the wall. Squinting against the onslaught of wind and rain, Tom waves with his hand, motioning for the man to come inside quickly.

The man, still cradling something inside the folds of his coat, starts walking toward the lighthouse. Walking. Not even the brisk walk of a man in a hurry but unsure of his footing. The man casually walks along the cliff as if the storm raging about him is of no consequence. Tom can see the winds blowing the rain almost horizontal, yet the man walks straight and tall.

When the man finally steps inside the lighthouse Tom is soaked to the bone. Yet as he gets a closer look at the man, he finds he's not wet at all. He stares at the man with his mouth wide open in shock. At five foot eleven, Tom has to look up at least a good foot to look into the man's eyes. The man is older, yet still physically imposing. His long beard is a mix of gray and white. Tom could swear there's some blue mixed in as well. His eyes are deep pools of blue that Tom finds hard to look away from.

"Thank you for inviting me in," the man says in a soft, lyrical voice.

The words break Tom out of his thoughts, realizing he'd been staring. "Oh I'm sorry, I'm just a bit overwhelmed. Are you okay?"

"I am fine, Thomas." The man assures him, walking into the small office as if he owns the place.

Tom's eyes narrow with suspicion. He follows the man into the office, grabbing a blanket off the back of his chair to dry himself off. As the man makes himself at home on the tiny couch against the wall, Tom asks, "How do you know my name?"

"I've known you since you were four years old and first sailed out onto my waves," the man says without looking up at him. He begins unbuttoning his coat.

"What?" Tom asks, exasperated. "All right who are you and what are you..."

Tom's words trail off as the man finishes undoing the top of his coat, revealing the bundle inside to be a baby. The baby sits comfortably in the man's arms, soundly asleep despite having just come out of a hurricane. A smile comes to Tom's lips despite himself, looking down at the adorable baby.

The man stands up in a hurry and holds the baby out to Tom. "Take him please. If you would."

"Oh well...I don't," Tom stammers, trying to object. It falls on deaf ears as the man drops the child into Tom's outstretched arms. Tom holds the baby, never taking his eyes off his sleeping face. He smiles again, caught up in the absurdity of the entire situation. "What's his name?"

When the man doesn't answer, Tom finally looks up, only to find himself alone with the child. He looks about, trying to find the man, but sees no sign of him. "Hello? Um..sir? Hello?"

Confusion takes hold of Tom, who runs a hand through his hair, trying to figure things out. He never heard the door open or close. He does a search of the lighthouse, going down into the basement and up to the top. Nothing turns up. "Where did he go?"

The child doesn't answer, but he does open his eyes to look at Tom. The boy's bright blue eyes look right into Tom's and a smile comes to his tiny face. Outside, Tom can hear the storm winding down. The winds slow and the waves soften in the distance.

Tom holds the child close and bounces him slightly, smiling down at the beautiful face. "Well maybe you can tell me. What's your name?"

****

"Arrrrrrthur!" a large twelve year old boy says in a mocking tone. "Hey Aaaarrrthur!"

The boy and two of his lackeys run up along the road and grab Arthur. One of the boys punches him in the gut, causing Arthur to crouch down on the ground retching. The large boy runs his hand through Arthur's wavy blond hair, like an adult would do to a small child.

"Going home to your lighthouse and all your friends? I bet the seagulls missed you," the large boy jokes.

One of the lackeys kicks Arthur in the shin, getting a yelp of pain. Small for a twelve year old, Arthur has had to put up with this kind of abuse for most of his school life. This particular bully, Sean Henderson, has been laying into him almost exclusively. Arthur can't even tell you who the other two boys are, they're just always with Sean like two loyal puppy dogs running at his heels.

"I know," the shorter of the two lackeys says. He's even smaller than Arthur. Probably latched onto Sean in order to protect himself from this kind of treatment. "Let's send him for a swim!"

"No!" Arthur yells as the two lackeys pick him up by the arms and drag him to the side of the road, revealing the small rocky drop into the ocean. Fear overtakes him and his legs scramble against the ground, trying to gain footing.

"Ha ha! You live along the ocean and can't even swim?" Sean laughs, stepping in front of Arthur to grab his legs. "What a baby!"

The adrenaline overtaking him, Arthur kicks at Sean like a wild animal. One foot lands right in his face, the other directly in his crotch. Sean turns beet red and falls to his knees, his two lackeys not sure what to do. Taking advantage of their confusion, Arthur pulls his right arm free and punches the other kid in the eye. The kid grabs his eye and tears begin to stream down his face.

The last lackey puts his arm around Arthur's head, keeping him in a headlock. He lifts his knee vigorously, hitting Arthur in the chest and face repeatedly. Sean finally recovers and pushes his underling aside. He ducks down and rams his shoulder into Arthur's chest, lifting him up like a sack of potatoes. As he starts to head toward the water to dump his victim in, a voice interrupts.

"Excuse me!" Tom shouts over the noise of the fight. He steps out of his old, yellow VW Bug. "Do we have a problem here?"

Seeing the jig is up, Sean drops Arthur onto the ground. Arthur falls back onto his hands and knees, reaching up to wipe some blood from his nose.

"I said, do we have a problem?" Tom asks more sternly.

"No sir," Sean says politely. He reaches up to wipe some snot from his nose, then wipes his hand off on his shirt. "We were just wrestling."

"Wrestling huh? Is that true, Arthur?"

Arthur looks over at Sean and his lackeys, all looking at him like his life was on the line. "Yeah Dad. We were just playing."

Tom sighs and walks over to Arthur. He reaches down and helps him get to his feet. "You boys get lost."

Sean and his lackeys run off, but not before Sean gives Arthur a dirty look. Once Arthur is up and Tom looks at his face to make sure there's no significant damage, he turns to walk back to the car. Arthur runs after him, scratching at his ear. They get in the car and drive away in silence.

When they reach the lighthouse and the small home next to it, they find a black Mercedes in the driveway. Tom catches sight of a man walking around the grounds. Dressed in an expensive, pinstripe suit, the man seems to be waiting for them.

"To what do I owe the pleasure again, Mr. Thagerty?" Tom asks in a sarcastic tone as he steps out of the car, putting Arthur on edge. Mr. Thagerty is wearing black sunglasses despite the overcast day. His brown hair is slicked back with so much grease Arthur wonders if he has to avoid open flame. He carries himself as a man with great self-importance.

"My employer has sent me down to get your answer to his generous offer," Mr. Thagerty says without a hint of charm.

"I see," Tom says while opening the trunk to grab the groceries.

"You haven't returned our calls. To be frank, no one does that." Mr. Thagerty offers a toothy smile that is neither appropriate nor pleasant.

"I would guess your employer could figure out what that meant," Tom turns to Mr. Thagerty. He strokes his goatee, the brown hair starting to show signs of gray. "The answer is no."

"No?" Mr. Thagerty takes a moment to let the word sink in. A word he's not accustomed to hearing. "We offer you more money for one night than you make over a year tending to this place, and you say no?"

"That's correct," Tom says while taking a step closer towards Mr. Thagerty, putting them face to face. "My answer is no. Now I'd kindly ask you leave me and my son alone."

Mr. Thagerty offers another of his toothy smiles. Without a word, he turns to leave. Tom waits and watches as he gets into his Mercedes and drives off, the tires kicking up dirt and rocks along the unpaved road.

"Why would you do that?" Arthur asks suddenly.

"Do what?"

"Turn down the offer." Arthur's voice is tinged with anger. "He said you could have made more than a years pay. We could use that money! Why would you do that?" He turns to storm off, walking up along the grassy cliff, idly scratching at the back of his ears.

Tom puts the groceries back in the trunk and heads off after his son. "Is money that important to you?"

"We need it!" Arthur yells with petulant anger, pacing along the edge of the cliff. His anger so strong that he ignores the fear he would normally feel from overlooking the ocean below. Ever since he was a baby, Arthur has feared the water. Whether it be the open sea or a swimming pool, he's never felt comfortable around it. "We could finally be more like normal people! I could have all the things the other kids have."

"These things the other kids have. Are they things you need, or things you want?"

Arthur takes a moment before responding, knowing how his father has a way of trapping people with his arguments. "Well I guess...I don't NEED them, no..."

"Do you know what that man wanted me to do?" When Arthur shakes his head, Tom continues. "His boss wanted me to help him break into the Navy shipyard in Portsmouth. They wanted to steal some of the equipment there and thought I could get them in considering I was stationed there for a while. And that I'd be desperate enough to accept. Do you still think I should have?"

Arthur looks down at his shoes, ashamed at his outburst. In his heart he knows what his father did was right, yet he is truly tired of living without the things all his friends have. Finally he mumbles, "No."

Tom smiles and walks over to put his hands on Arthur's shoulders. "As you get older, son, you're going to find yourself faced with decisions like that. A good man knows that sometimes you have to give up the things you want to do what is right. Often the easy way and the right way aren't the same."

Arthur smiles up at his father and nods in agreement. He pushes his father's arm out of the way to scratch behind his ear.

"All right, come on," Tom says as he heads back toward the car. "Help me get the groceries in."

Arthur turns to head after his father. When he takes the first step, he feels a crunching beneath his feet. He lets out a short yelp as the ground gives way. He grabs frantically at the grass, but is unable to get a hold of anything, and he tumbles over the edge.

Hearing his son scream, Tom runs over to the edge of the cliff too late. All he can do is watch helplessly as his son crashes into the rocky waters below. "Arthur!" he screams. "Arthur!"

Frantic, Tom turns and sprints down the cliff side, making his way toward the ocean. He runs far faster than he should, climbing down the slick rocks in a hurry. He makes one leap too quickly and slips on a rock, slamming his hip on the hard surface. He grits his teeth against the pain and continues on his descent.

When he finally reaches the water, the waves leap and crash against the rocks, splashing him with salt water. He scans the surface, desperate for any sign of his son. Panic setting in, he kicks off his boots and prepares to dive in.

Before he can, water erupts straight up from the ocean, reaching at least ten feet. He stares at the sight of his son flying toward him, landing on the wet rocks like a master gymnast. Tom misses the giant smile on Arthur's face in his mad dash to embrace him.

"Thank God Arthur," Tom says, uncharacteristically. "I thought I'd lost you. Are you okay?" Tom lets go and runs his hands over his son's head, checking for any bleeding. The smile on Arthur's face is brighter than he's ever seen. "Arthur?"

"I can swim, Dad!" Arthur's voice is overcome with excitement. His blond hair is plastered to his head and his clothes are sticking to his tiny frame, yet he shows no concern. "I can swim!"

"That's great," Tom whispers, a little confused.

"No, Dad. I can SWIM! I was going so fast! And I held my breath as long as I could, but when I thought I couldn't anymore...Dad I could breath underwater! It was so cool! Watch!"

Before Tom can say anything, Arthur turns around, and dives back into the water.

****

"Arthur," Miss Wright calls out in front of the class. "Arthur, it's your turn."

Arthur looks about sheepishly, hating the sudden attention. Frankly he hates everything about Amnesty Bay Middle School, especially history class. Sliding out of the desk, he gathers his report and walks up to the head of the class, fidgeting with his jeans and button up shirt as he goes. When he turns to face the entire class, all of their eyes staring at him, he turns red and offers a weak smile.

"And what is the subject of your report," Miss Wright asks him, tapping her press-on fingernails on her desk. In her forties, Miss Wright is a small woman with large, '80s style hair.

"Um, Napolean." Arthur offers quietly. In the back of the class, Sean snickers at Arthur's obvious discomfort.

"Well let's hear it," Miss Wright says with an exaggerated sigh, showing obvious contempt for her own student.

Sweat begins trickling down Arthur's forehead and the back of his spine. He rubs his head and swallows hard, his throat dry. He looks out amongst his classmates, their eyes staring at him. His focus falls on Sally Bridges, a pretty redhead who never gives Arthur the time of day.

<God this kid is a dweeb.>

"Um...what did you say?" he asks the Sally, confused because he didn't see her lips move.

The girl looks at him like someone would look down at a bug. "I didn't say anything. Wow." <Why is this loser speaking to me?>

Arthur's eyes dart to Jonathan, the pudgy boy sitting behind her. He's staring off out the classroom window. <I wish lunch would get here. I'm hungry.>

Arthur grabs the sides of his head, sweat pouring down his face. His focus turns to his friend Jenna, a brunette with thick glasses and braces. <Oh my God! Is he okay?>

Miss Wright jumps out of her seat and runs over. She kneels down in front of him and tries to get his attention. "Arthur, are you okay?" <Why me? I fucking hate this job.>

More and more voices enter his mind. So many that he can't make out any of the words, just the overpowering noise of dozens of voices all at once. He clenches his fists in his hair and slumps into Miss Wright's arms before finally falling unconscious.

****

A light rain drips against the window of Arthur's room. It's a soothing sound, comforting him as he drifts in and out of sleep. The shadowy outline of a tree branch dances on the wall next to him, offering him something to focus on while he is awake.

The school nurse had called Tom immediately after they brought Arthur to her office. She insisted on calling an ambulance, but Tom managed to talk her down, saying he hadn't been sleeping well and probably just fainted. When she agreed to just send him home, Tom was overcome with relief.

A slight creek of the door betrays Tom's presence. Arthur turns his head to see his father peering in. "Dad?"

"Hey kiddo," Tom whispers, walking in and sitting down on the foot of his bed. Arthur can see the worried look his father is trying to hide. "I didn't mean to wake you. How're you feeling?"

"I'm okay," Arthur croaks out. His father offers him a class of water, which Arthur gulps down.

"You've been in and out for a while. Do you remember what happened?"

Arthur closes his eyes and rubs his face. "I was in class. I was talking in front of the class. Then I..." He trails off, afraid to say.

"What, Arthur?" Tom reassures him, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "You can tell me?"

"I started hearing voices," Arthur whispers.

Tom swallows hard, trying to keep his composure. He looks away, not sure what to think. "Voices? Like voices telling you to do things?"

"No, no," Arthur says, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "It was the other kids voices, except they weren't talking. It was like I could hear what they were thinking."

Tom continues staring at the wall, running a hand over his face, obviously overwhelmed. Since the incident on the cliff yesterday, Arthur had been full of excitement. Not only did he overcome his fear of water, he found there no reason to fear it at all. They discovered the reason Arthur had been scratching at his ears was because he'd developed small gills behind them. Fortunately you couldn't see them unless you folded his ear over. There's been so little time to process that change and now this? What is his son turning into?

"You think I'm turning into a monster?!" Arthur asks suddenly.

It takes Tom a second to realize that Arthur just read his thoughts. "Arthur! No!" Tom assures him. He can see the tears welling up in his son's eyes. Tom's chest hurts at the sight. "You're not a monster. These things you can do are amazing. You have nothing to be ashamed about."

"Why is this happening to me?"

Tom's heart breaks at the tone of his son's voice. Full of dread and shame, as if it's something he's done that has caused this. His thoughts return to the night Arthur first came to him and the one thing he's never told anyone. He briefly debates telling Arthur, before chuckling slightly at the fact that it doesn't matter if Arthur can read his thoughts.

"Arthur, there's something I never told you about the night you first came to me. I didn't just find you washed ashore in the hurricane. I think there's a reason they never found your real parents," Tom begins. The fear vanishes from Arthur's face, leaving only curiosity. He sits patiently as Tom recounts the truth of that day. When it's over, Arthur finds he has more questions than answers.

"So what now?" Arthur asks, wiping his eyes. "How do I find out who I am?"

"I can tell you right now who you are," Tom tells him, grabbing him tightly by the shoulders. "You are Arthur Curry. You are my son. And I love you more than anything. Whatever is happening to you, we'll figure it out. You can learn to control this. Whatever it is. It just proves something I've always known."

"What's that?"

"That you are the most amazing son a father could ever ask for!"

Arthur throws his arms around his father, hugging him tight. They sit like that for a while, comforting each other. Tom wonders about what's to come, what other surprises might be in store for Arthur, and how they'll deal with them. He wonders, but doesn't worry. He knows in his heart that whatever happens, they'll deal with it together.

<I love you, Dad.>

It takes a moment for Tom to realize Arthur didn't say it, but thought it inside his mind. Either way, it brings a smile to his face.

-The End-