Wayne Batson - The Final Storm

Father!? The word crashed into Aidan’s mind like a brick through a window. That just couldn’t be. Aidan knew that Robby’s father had run out on Robby’s family when Robby was little.

“I’ve heard an awful lot about you,” Mr. Pierson said. He reached out his hand to Aidan and smiled. Aidan shook his hand, but something about that smile didn’t seem right. It was a sickly smile like the ghastly grin of a skull.

“Is Robby here?” Aidan found himself asking.

“He’ll be down in a minute,” Mr. Pierson said. “Why don’t you join me at the dining room table.” The request sounded more like a command, and the man turned his back to Aidan and walked up the hall. There was something familiar about the way the man walked. He took long, confident strides with a slightly delayed turn of the shoulders. It reminded Aidan of the way disciplined soldiers march.

Aidan followed him into the dining room. Mr. Pierson took a seat at the head of the long, dark table. He gave Aidan another one of those skull-grins and motioned for him to sit. “So you and Robby used to be good friends.”

Aidan didn’t much like the sound of “used to be,” but he replied, “Yes, sir. I lived down the street until July. We were best friends, but then I had to move.”

“That’s a real pity,” Mr. Pierson replied. “Colorado, is it?”

Aidan nodded.

“That’s a long way from Maryland, Aidan. A long way.” Mr. Pierson whistled. “I guess by now you’ve probably made quite a few more friends like Robby has.”

Aidan didn’t like the direction Mr. Pierson was leading things. “Is Robby coming down soon?”

“Oh, he’ll be along,” said Mr. Pierson, and he cracked his knuckles. “As a matter of fact, Robby did have plans today with one of his buddies from school, but I told him he ought to stick around for an old friend.” The way he spoke-gesturing grandly and raising his voice far louder than necessary-it reminded Aidan of someone. An old teacher? Maybe. A relative? Aidan wasn’t sure.

“So, Robby tells me you like to write stories, Aidan,” Mr. Pierson said, and he waited for Aidan to answer. Aidan just stared back. “I’m a writer too. Did you know that?”

Aidan shook his head no. Mr. Pierson smiled. “Oh, yes! I write self-help books, a couple of bestsellers. Maybe you’ve heard of my latest. It’s called Principles of Power. No? Maybe I’ll get you a copy from my car. I’d be happy to sign it for you. Yes, I bet you could really get into my book. You look like you could use some power. My principles could help you.”

“What do you mean?” Aidan asked.

“Well, I certainly don’t mean any offense, but look at you. You live now over a thousand miles away, and here you are trying to keep alive an old friendship. When what you really ought to be doing…” Robby’s dad snatched off his glasses and leaned forward till his eyes seemed to triple in size, “is getting on with life-find yourself new friends. That’s one of the secrets to real power, Aidan-never look back.”

Aidan remained silent. He felt extremely threatened by this man who claimed to be Robby’s father. And on top of that, Aidan had the strangest feeling of alarm as if there were invisible enemies all around and they were beginning to close in.

“Everyone needs personal power, Aidan,” Mr. Pierson continued. He slid his glasses back on and tilted his head slightly. “It’s the only way to feel totally secure in a very dangerous world.” He put a sinister emphasis on the word dangerous, and Aidan felt a chill.

“Wouldn’t you like to feel powerful, Aidan?” Mr. Pierson asked. “I could show you how…”

Aidan knew now where true power could be found, and it wasn’t in the pages of Mr. Pierson’s book.

“No thank you, sir,” Aidan replied, trying to avoid the man’s eyes. It wasn’t that Aidan was afraid to look at him eye to eye, but he had a feeling this man was very shrewd, that he might be able to guess his thoughts. Aidan didn’t want to give him the chance. “I appreciate the offer. But really, I just came here to catch up on things with Robby. My dad had to visit his home office in the city, so I just tagged along.” Aidan glanced slightly at his backpack. He felt suddenly very conscious of his bundle of scrolls inside. “My dad will be back to pick me up between five and six.”

“Will he?” Mr. Pierson leaned back a little and smiled. He put his thick arms behind his head like a chess grandmaster whose move had been countered but still had a secret play left. “Well, that should give you and my son a nice long day together, now, shouldn’t it? Yes, I expect it will. Normally, I spend a day like today writing over at the local coffee shop, but I think today I’ll just stick around the house. So let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pierson,” Aidan replied, and he grabbed his backpack and started to get up from the table.

“Oh, Aidan, one more thing,” Mr. Pierson said. “What have you got in that backpack of yours?”

Just then, Robby came bounding into the dining room. “Hey, Aidan!” he said, and for the first time since Aidan moved, Robby sounded like the old Robby again. Aidan slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked toward his old friend.

“I was thinkin’ Aidan and I could ride bikes up to the park and throw the football around.” Robby turned to Aidan. “That is, if you don’t mind ridin’ Jill’s hunk of junk.” Aidan shrugged. He didn’t mind.

“That all right with you, Dad?”

“That’ll be fine, son,” Mr. Pierson replied, but the smile was gone. “Just remember what I told you.”

“I will, Dad. I will.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your dad?” Aidan finally blurted out as they pedaled up Mazzoni Hill on their way to the park.

“I dunno,” Robby replied. “I guess I’m still getting used to the idea myself.”

“Well, is he…” Aidan chose his words carefully. “Is he like he used to be?”

Robby pulled ahead a little. “Some,” he replied. “But he’s changed in a lot of ways. He’s rich.”

“I noticed the car in front of the house!” Aidan replied. “And he told me about his book.”

“Yeah, he called and said he was sorry. Mama and Jill just welcomed him back with open arms.”

“What about you?” Aidan asked.

Robby pedaled in silence a few moments. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I mean, it’s great to have my dad back. He’s real smart-helps me sort out my problems. C’mon, Aidan! Almost to the top, and then we coast!”

Robby poured it on. He rode a sleek racing bike and had little trouble getting up the hill. Aidan zipped along as best he could on Jill’s no-name bike, with the little plastic streamers coming out of the grips and a banana seat. They crested the hill and coasted side by side.

“Where were your mom and Jill? I didn’t see them at your house.”

“Shopping,” Robby replied as they reached the bottom of the hill. “If it’s a Saturday, then they’re shopping. They like spending Dad’s money.” Aidan and Robby sped through the park entrance toward the game area.

They secured their bikes, and Aidan dug into his backpack and reached for the football. As he did, his hand brushed against the Scrolls. There was so much he wanted to say, and he had rehearsed it in his mind a hundred times. But still he couldn’t quite get himself to bring it up. Aidan zipped up his backpack, and Robby went long. Maybe I’ll tell him after lunch, Aidan thought as he threw the football. It was a perfect spiral, but it sailed well past Robby’s outstretched arms.

Robby came huffing back. “That was a launch, Aidan! You been practicing?”

Aidan smiled and shrugged. “Not really.” There’s a lot about me that’s changed, Aidan thought.