Second Draft: Prologue

Even though it was only spring, Zeus was sweating profusely. The sweat from his forehead began to drip into his eyes and the salt stung. He brought his arm up to his face and dragged his sleeve across his brow to mop up the sweat. He looked briefly at his sleeve. It was damp now with his sweat of course, but also covered with dirt and blood. He wasn’t sure at first if the blood was his or someone else’s, but he touched his forehead with his fingers and felt that he was bleeding. How did that happen? There were so many possible instances, it was difficult to pin point which one had caused the wound.

He turned to the man next to him. “Put out these fires,” he said. “All of them. And if there’s anyone still left in the buildings, shoot them.”

“Yes sir.”

The man turned to leave, but Zeus called out to him. “Wait!” The man stopped obediently. Zeus walked over and spoke a few centimeters from the man’s ear, talking very slow and clearly so as not to be misunderstood. “Anyone with smoke or ashes on their face is to be shot on sight. The same for anyone with gunpowder on their hands. Make sure the men keep the area sealed off so that no one can get out.”

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, go.” The man ran off.

Zeus rolled his head and stretched his muscular neck from side to side. He touched his forehead again. It was still bleeding. And what’s more, the awareness of the wound was now causing it to sting, even though it hadn’t bothered him before.

“The leader,” he growled to the men next to him. “Why haven’t you brought me the leader?”

One of the three men spoke up. “Well our agents are going through the prisoners now sir, but, well, there doesn’t appear to be a definite leader. There seems to have been a large degree of equality among those involved. Of course we’re…”

Zeus cut him off. “Bring me someone. I want someone to make an example of. If you can’t find their leader, than bring me someone but…”the word ‘but’ was spoken loudly. Zeus pointed his index finger in the man’s face and shook it to emphasize every word following, “I want him to be someone credible. Someone who was involved from the beginning. Someone who looks like a leader. Someone strong, good looking, well known and…” Zeus paused briefly, “someone who’s still in relatively good shape. I don’t want anyone who’s already half dead.”

All three men nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Go.” Zeus waved them off with his hand. They went running.

He was feeling a little light headed. He was in excellent shape for his age. He was stronger and faster than most men twenty years younger. But it had been an exhausting day. And that wound in his head…He touched it again. Maybe it was bleeding more than he thought. He looked for a place to sit down.

There weren’t any chairs around. Of course he was standing outside, but he doubted there were any chairs anywhere on the campus. Any chairs that existed would have been smashed up and thrown onto the barricades long ago. And they were probably now burning with the rest of the campus.

To sit on the ground would have been out of the question. One does not inspire authority by sitting on the ground. There were a lot of stones and blocks lying around. Most of them were too close to the burning buildings for his comfort, but he managed to find one a little out of the way. It wasn’t a smooth or flat surface, but he didn’t even notice. As a soldier, he was used to enduring much worse hardships.

He looked around at all the flaming buildings. It was a shame. This had been such a beautiful campus. And it was he and his men who had started the fires. But it had to be done.

The buildings had all been built in the classical style, and so were built out of stone blocks. The insides might burn for a while before his men managed to extinguish the fires, but they would not burn to the ground. And then, when this was all over, they would start rebuilding. They would restore everything just like it was before. No! Better than before! In a couple years, you wouldn’t even be able to tell that anything had happened. Except that there would be a monument to the bravery of him and his men and the forces of law and order. A statue, or a reflecting pool, or…something. Design wasn’t his strong point. He would let others figure it out.

The crackle of fun fire off in the distance reminded him that the fighting was not completely over. He was alone now, having sent all of his men off. But he never even thought to look around him to check his safety. Even though he couldn’t really justify it in rational terms, he had always had a feeling of his own invincibility. He was like one of those heroes in the old stories. Whatever encounter he ventured upon, he would always emerge victorious. In fact he felt so secure that as he sat on the rock, he almost dozed off a couple times.

Eventually he was awakened by the sound of his returning men. And they had one of the students with them. The student’s hands were tied in front of him. He seemed a bit dazed, and every so often one of the men would hit him from behind when he started to slow down. But he was walking on his own power. That was a good sign.

As they came closer, Zeus noticed the prisoner’s face was covered with blood. That was slightly discouraging. Someone with a clean face would have been better. A bloody face might draw sympathy from the crowd. But at this point it would probably be impossible to find someone who wasn’t bloodied.

The thought made Zeus remember his own wound. His face probably looked just as bad. Automatically his fingers moved up to touch the wound again, as if he doubted whether it was still there or not. Touching the tender area just made it sting more. He knew he should leave it alone, but it was not in his nature to just leave things alone. Everything in his life was divided into things he controlled, and things he was trying to control.

As his men and the prisoner came up to him now, Zeus decided he was very pleased with their selection. He didn’t show it of course. It was his philosophy to be very sparing with any praise. But he was satisfied. The prisoner was tall, well built, and looked strong enough that, under different circumstances, he might even have been thought of as intimidating. He didn’t look intimidating now with his hands bound and the dazed bloody look on his face. But one could easily imagine him on the barricades hours earlier, holding a rifle and fighting with the soldiers. He wouldn’t be pitied by the crowd.

Zeus glanced down at the man’s hands just to confirm what he already knew. There was gunfire powder and small burns across the back of the hands. Well, that settles that then. He was guilty. Zeus didn’t need to have any reservations about what he was about to do.

The man’s blond hair was just slightly longer than what was usually considered acceptable. It didn’t quite cover his eyes, but it lay in a mess across his forehead. In spite of the blood, his face had a handsome look to it. He had sharp blue eyes, which stood in contrast to an otherwise soft face.

Actually, in a way the blood made him look more handsome. At least to Zeus. It was as if the blood was some sort of badge of honor that validated the man’s struggle. “But,” Zeus concluded, “That’s probably just the military man in me.”

His men had indeed done well. Zeus was careful never to show pleasure however. He turned his head and spat to the side as a way of looking distracted and uninterested, then turned again to look at the student. “What is his name?” he asked the captain.

“My name is Stephen,” the student broke in.

So, he still had some spirit left. His men had done even better than he thought. Zeus allowed himself to smile. His smile seemed to simultaneously frighten the prisoner and cause his captain to sigh with relief.

“So, you’re one of the leaders, are you Stephen?”

Despite being obviously nervous, Stephen managed to answer, “We have no leaders here. That’s your world. Our world is based on equality.”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Zeus muttered in a distracted way. He had heard this rhetoric before. He dug the toe of his boot into the ground and looked at the dirt he kicked up. Then he looked back up at the prisoner. This was too easy. “Well, then, I should probably tell you that all the other uprisings have been put down. Every single University in Fabulae has been pacified. In fact you were the last hold out. And now that you and your friends have been defeated, the revolution is over.”

Stephen didn’t seem surprised by this. He had probably already known. Even behind the barricades they sometimes got news of the outside world. “The revolution isn’t about physical victory,” Stephen answered without blinking. “It’s about ideas. And we have the truth on our side. Everyone on the side of truth listens to us.”

“What is truth?” Zeus asked. And then, turning to his captain, Zeus suddenly changed his tone of voice to his usual commanding voice, and began barking orders. “Take him to the city center, and have him publicly flogged. After that I don’t care how you kill him, but make sure it takes a long time, and make sure he suffers. If there is any revolt left in the streets, I want it to be extinguished by seeing what happens to this man. No more romantic deaths on the barricades from now on, but long, slow, painful deaths. I want him to cry out for mercy before you let him die.” Zeus locked eyes with his captain. “I know you know what I mean.” The captain simply nodded. He had worked with Zeus before, and knew exactly what was expected of him.

Surprisingly, Stephen’s face still looked serenely peaceful as they dragged him away. Maybe he didn’t fully comprehend what was going to happen to him. He would find out soon enough.

This was the way you dealt with these people. They had been too lenient last time. But now no half measures. Fabulae would thank them in the end.

Second Draft Part 1: Chapter 1

I rapped on the door impatiently. I had been here so many times before that it was almost like a second home to me, and I had long ago lost any formalities of pretense of politeness.

When no one answered the door, I knocked again. I took a few steps back to get a wider view of the house, but I could see no one moving inside. I went up to one of the side windows and pressed my face against the glass. “Hello! Hello!”

Through the glass I could see a figure moving leisurely across the room. She must have known it was me, because she displayed none of the promptness that would have been shown to any other guest. I did not take offense to this. It was a sign that they considered me almost part of the family.

The door opened. Her face looked tired, with deep lines underneath her eyes, but she smiled warmly when she saw me. “Hello Jonathon.”

“Is David in?”

“I think he’s still up in his room. I didn’t hear him go out. Unless he went out while I was hanging up the wash.” She paused to think about what she had just said. “But if he had gone out, he’d probably be with you now, wouldn’t he? Why don’t you go upstairs and see what he’s doing?”

“Thanks,” I called out as I ran up the stairs. David’s mom said something in reply, but I was already up the stairs and couldn’t hear it.

I threw open the door and burst into the room. David was sitting on the floor, with his back leaning against the wall directly opposite the door. I could tell my sudden entrance had initially startled him, but he was not surprised to see me. “Oh, it’s only you,” he said.

“Where were you this morning?” I demanded.

David shrugged. “I told you yesterday I might not come.”

“Simon and I were waiting for.”

“Well you shouldn’t have been. I said I probably wasn’t going to be there.” This was true. He had said that, and I remembered it, so for the moment there wasn’t anything more to say on the subject. I saw a small white ball on David’s desk, and I walked over and started bouncing it against the floor. “What did you and Simon end up doing anyway?”

“Nothing. There was nothing too do. We were bored. And besides, you know how Simon is…” I trailed off on this last point, but David nodded his head as if he understood.

I put the ball back on the desk, but as I turned to face David again, I noticed something I hadn’t seen the first time. There was a book across his lap. He had been sitting under the window so that he could read by the sunlight. “What the hell are you doing?”

The abrupt change of subject confused David. “What? Jon? I’m just sitting here. What are you talking about?”

“What’s that?” I pointed accusingly.

“This?” David held up the book as he pointed at it. He still seemed confused, but I nodded to confirm that the book was indeed the subject of my anger. “It’s a book Jon. What does it look like?”

“What the hell are you doing reading during summer break? We do enough of that during school.”

“This isn’t for school Jon. It’s for fun. Besides, what do you care?”

“You skipped out on Simon and me so that you could read a book?”

“Jon, I told you yesterday I probably wasn’t going to come.”

“A book?”

“Come on Jon, I told you this isn’t for school. It’s something I was interested in.”

“A book?” I could feel my face growing red as I raised my voice. “And Simon and I were standing around doing nothing all morning so that you could read a book? During summer break?”

“I’m under no obligation to keep Simon and you entertained.”

“But it’s summer break. We’ll be stuck in school the whole rest of the year reading books. This is our time to go out and have adventures.”

David tossed the book aside with an air of resignation. “Alright Jon, fine. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. Simon and I were trying to think of something to do all morning. There’s nothing to do in this town.”

David rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Well if there’s nothing to do anyway…”

“It’s out there somewhere,” I said. “Besides, anything is better than sitting in here reading a book on a summer afternoon. Are you coming or what?” David slowly got to his feet, and I practically pushed him out the door.


***************************************************

Simon had gone back to his home by this time, and that was fine with me. I always felt like Simon was more a friend of David’s than he was of mine. It was fine if the three of us were hanging out together, but there was something about Simon that just rubbed me the wrong way when it was only he and I.

Because it was a hot day, I wanted to go to the river and try and catch some fish. Neither one of us had any fishing equipment, but I figured if one person stood upstream and chased the fish, maybe other person could catch the fish further down.

We didn’t catch a single thing, but we had fun trying. At least I did. David argued with me for a while about what the point of it was. I tried to convince him that there was no point. And then he didn’t want to get his clothes wet. But once he actually got in the water, I think he had a lot of fun.

First I tried to chase the fish down, and David tried to catch them. When this was unsuccessful, we traded positions. The water was shallow, but the bottom of the river was slippery, and David was a little less steady on his feet than I was. He tripped over a rock and fell flat on his face. I yelled that he was letting all the fish get away. There was a short debate over who was most at fault, and then he tackled me and we were both drenched by the stream. We wrestled for a little while without anyone gaining the upper hand, until we were so exhausted that we dragged ourselves to the shore of the river and just watched the fish swim by.

After a while we decided we’d had enough, and started to head back into town. We walked along the brick road, and stopped to stare at various stores along the way. I really wanted to buy something at the sweets store, but I knew David didn’t have any money with him, so we just looked instead.

On the window of the bakery was a portrait of Angelo’s face, with the words written underneath: “We Salute the Heroes of the Restoration on the 20th Anniversary”

“Do you have a pen on you?” I asked David. I knew he didn’t, but I felt like I had to ask anyway.

“What? No.” David had still been eyeing the sweet bread, but he turned to me when he heard the question. “Why Jon? What are you going to do?”

I looked around and saw some charcoal lying on the side of the road. It must have fallen out from a cart that had just gone past. I picked it up and headed back to the bakery window, smiling at David. “This picture isn’t interesting enough,” I said. “Let’s add a mustache to it or something.” No, not original enough. I thought again. “Or donkey’s ears. And a tail.” I snapped my fingers as another idea struck me. “And a pitchfork, just like the devil.”

David positioned himself firmly between me and the picture. “No Jon, you’re just going to get us in trouble again. Besides, I thought Angelo was a friend of your father.”

“Yeah, well he’s not my friend. Besides I’m not going to hurt him. I’m just going to make his picture more interesting.”

David allowed me to push him aside, but didn’t stop his complaining. “Jon, will you stop and think for once? This is a stupid idea and you know it.” I had already started drawing on the picture. David’s voice became slightly more frantic. “Jon come on. I promised my mother I wouldn’t let you get me into any more trouble like this.”

“We’re not going to get in trouble.”

“That’s what you always say. And we always do. And…” David paused to look carefully at my work. “…and what are you drawing anyway?”

“I told you. Donkey ears and a tail and a pitchfork, just like the devil.”

“First of all the devil doesn’t have donkey ears, he has pointed ears, just like an elf. No, I said pointy, what are you doing? No, don’t try and scratch it out, you’ll just make a big smudge. Jon, look at what you’re doing!”

Now it was my turn to be exasperated. I let my arm drop to my side, and turned on David. “Oh come on will you? This isn’t art class.”

“Yeah, but look at that. It’s just a big smudge. No one could recognize that. I can’t even recognize that, and I know what it’s supposed to be. Here, give me the charcoal.” I handed it over. “Thank you. Now, see how I’m doing this Jon, with the nice straight lines? If you hadn’t smudged this all up first we’d be able to see it a lot clearer, but you get the idea right? Because we can’t see the ears very well, lets darken the eyebrows a little bit. Big eyebrows mean evil. Everyone knows that. Shall we put on a mustache as well?”

“The devil doesn’t have a mustache.”

“Sure he does. He’s got a long thin one like this. And whenever he’s thinking evil thoughts, he twirls the end of the mustache with his finger and laughs, just like this,” David demonstrated by twirling an imaginary mustache in the air. “I don’t have a mustache, but you see what I mean, right?” David held the charcoal at an angle so that he could draw a thin line for the mustache. “There we go. Now what else did you say you wanted on here? A tail?”

At that moment the baker came running out of his shop to witness us desecrating his window. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled at us. “It’s Restoration week. Don’t you have any respect?”

I had started running almost immediately. David stood frozen where he was, and I had to dart back and tug at his arm to break him out of his daze.

I knew the Baker wouldn’t chase us. He was fat, and red faced, and it looked like the mere effort of running out of his shop had tired him out. But you never know who else is going to be around. This city was crawling with police.

Sure enough, the fat man’s cries soon brought a policeman. “After them,” the baker screamed, pointing at us. “They ruined the Restoration posters.”

We had a good start by this time and were already halfway down the block, but the policeman took after us at full speed. His legs were a lot longer than ours and he was able to cover more distance with each step. He also blew into his whistle as he ran in order to alert other police in the area. And there was never any shortage of police in the city.

The next time I looked behind me there were two policemen running. And then three. They seemed to be coming out of every alley and side street.

I figured our best chance was to head towards the center of town where the crowds were. Once we got to the market place, we could plunge into the center of the crowd, and the police would never be able to find us.

I was running so fast I could barely breath, and couldn’t find the air to voice my thoughts to David. I turned down the street towards the center of town; he kept running straight. Our eyes caught each other’s as our paths split. I tried to wave him over in my direction. He made a sudden attempt to change directions in mid stride, his feet spun on some of the loose gravel, he skidded briefly and then his feet came out from under him. He fell face forward onto the hard brick road.

Under different circumstances, it might not have been the kind of fall that he would have been soon up from. He might have gotten up slowly, looking over his injuries to make sure he was all right. Today there was no time to pause. I stopped, ran back to him, extended my hand, pulled him up, and we were off again.

But I noticed that he was not running as fast. What’s more, the police had gained even more ground while David had fallen, and they were continuing to gain ground with every step.

We turned another corner, and the market place was in sight. At the same time I noticed that David was running with a limp. He started to fall behind me. I slowed down a bit, and ran beside him, trying to urge him forward. When that didn’t seem to do any good, I reached out and grabbed his arm to pull him forward with me. That didn’t seem to help either.

The whistles kept blowing, and more police were coming out of every corner. Just a little bit more David, I thought. Please keep going just a little bit more.

We ran into the market, but didn’t slow down. I weaved in and out of people, trying to work my way through the dense crowd. I bounced off of fruit stands and stall frames. I briefly lost track of where David was. I bumped into someone carrying a box of fruit, and he dropped it on the stone ground. I could hear him yelling after me as I plunged deeper into the crowd.

As I ran, I strained my neck backwards to see how close the police were. I could still see them, but they were losing ground now. They were big and awkward, and not able to weave in and out of the crowd as well as I was.

Just as I was turning my neck straight again, I ran smack into someone. It was like hitting a wall. I bounced off of him, and fell backwards on the ground. He didn’t even move.

Dazed, I sat on the ground and looked forward at the muscular legs in front of me. I moved my eyes up to see the whole figure. I took in his massive frame. He was wearing a shirt that seemed to small for him, and was stretched tight against his muscles. He seemed like a giant towering over me, but his face was young like mine. He was only a few years older than me. In fact he looked very familiar. I think I’d seen him around school, but I was still dazed from being knocked to the ground, and I had a hard time placing him exactly.

Suddenly David was there, helping me up to my feet as he apologized to the older boy. “I’m sorry he didn’t see you there. He didn’t mean any harm.”

Even once I was standing, the older boy was still taller than me, although he didn’t look quite as gigantic as he had looked from the ground. He had very soft features in his face, which almost seemed to contradict his athletic build. His cheeks were well rounded, and his brown hair seemed very fair and light. He had soft brown eyes, which were almost exactly the same color of his hair. His eyes looked very deep and thoughtful, and I could tell he was studying me with them.

“He didn’t mean any harm,” David repeated. Then he prodded me, “right Jon?”

After the initial shock of the fall, I was beginning to come to myself again. “Right, I’m sorry. I was looking behind me. I didn’t see you standing there.”

The boy’s eyes looked past me at the approaching policemen. Then he looked at me again. And then, kind of a half smile broke out on his face, and there was a glow in his eyes that indicated he understood everything. “Hide in there,” he said, pointing with his finger. David and I followed the finger to see what he was referring to. It was a small market stall just like all the others. “There’s no one using that one today,” he explained. “It’s empty.”

I looked at David to see how he felt about the idea, but he offered no helpful comments. He just looked back at me. He was probably waiting for me to make a decision.

Hiding in an empty stall in the middle of the market seemed almost a bit too obvious. The police were sure to find us there. And there was nothing I hated more than simply sitting down and waiting for them to find me. I could handle being chased, but I couldn’t bear just sitting and waiting while they searched around. Besides, I didn’t even know this other guy, and I had no idea if he was trustworthy or not.

And yet, in spite of all these objections in my mind, I found myself following his suggestion and going into the stall. David followed me. The older boy threw a tarp over the stall to cover it up, but sunlight still streamed through the cracks and I could see David’s face blended between the sunlight and the shadows.

David now had time to examine his wounds. He put his leg into the sunlight, and looked at it from different angles. It was really scrapped up, but what do you expect from a fall like that? No deep cuts however, and the bleeding seemed to have mostly stopped already.

There was so much noise and confusion in the market place, that it was hard to tell when exactly the policemen had past us. I expected the older boy would let us know when the danger was over, or give us some sort of all clear signal, but nothing. We waited and waited, but nothing.

At first David and I waited in silence with our ears straining to catch something from the outside. He looked at me, and I looked at his face, which was half buried in sunlight, half streaked by the light. But neither of us dared to say a word.

I don’t know how long we were in there. 15 minutes? A half hour? Maybe it was only 10 minutes. I honestly don’t know. We were both so nervous, and we had nothing to do except just stare at each other in silence. Time seems to stretch on forever in those types of situations.

I signaled to David that I was going to peak outside. He nodded. I lifted the tarp up slowly and looked around. The market place was filled with people, but there were no signs of the police, or of the older boy for that matter.

I signaled for David to come out. The bright sunlight caused us to squint at first as we stepped back into the market. David was still walking with a bit of a limp, which caused me to remember his injury. “Is your leg all right?”

“What? Yeah, it’s all right.” My question had suddenly reminded David of his injury, and he re-examined his leg. “Just scrapped up.

The sunlight was still hurting my eyes. I put my hand to my forehead and squinted as I scanned the market place. “I don’t see any police. And where did that other boy go? He looked kind of familiar, didn’t he?”

“You mean Orion?”

Was that his name? I tested the sound of the word by saying it aloud. “Orion.”

“You know who Orion is, don’t you?”

“He looks familiar. I think I’ve seen him around school.”

“Jon!” David’s voice showed annoyance at my ignorance. “He’s the President of his class. He’s captain of the sports club. He’s one of the most well known people at school. I can’t believe you don’t even know who he is. He’s only two years above us.”

“Oh.” I dismissed it with a shrug. “I’ve never been interested in all that class leadership kind of stuff anyway.” My thoughts lingered on the incident briefly, and then I thought of a new point. “If he was a class leader, why would he help us run from the police?”

David raised his eyebrows in a quizzically way as if to bounce the question back at me. “I don’t know Jon. The way he looked at you, it almost seemed like he knew you. ”

I had to admit, the whole thing did seem pretty odd. “But hey, was that the coolest thing ever or what? Can you believe we outran all those police?”

That was the wrong thing to say. David did not share my enthusiasm. “Damn it Jon, I told you that was a bad idea to write on that picture. We almost got caught.”

“But we didn’t.”

“That was just luck. If you keep this up, one of these days you are going to get caught. And when that happens I really hope you don’t drag me into it.”

Ah, the ingratitude. David never appreciates all I do for him. “I save you from having a boring life. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be reading that book.”

Again, apparently the wrong thing to say. David exploded at this. His hands flew up in the air. “I want to have a boring life. I like reading that book. Just once I want to have a quiet afternoon reading a book instead of having to run all over the city.”

David could get like this sometimes. Don’t misunderstand me, he’s a great guy. Really, he’s the best friend I’ve ever had. And good friends are hard to find; everyone knows that. But David can bend things out of proportion sometimes. The trick in talking with him is to get him to see the larger picture, while trying to avoid further antagonizing him. It’s a balancing act no doubt, and I don’t claim to do it perfectly.

David may seem upset now, but if I stopped taking him out on my little adventures, he would be bored stiff in two days. I know that, and he knows that. At least I think he knows that. [Tense?]

But every once and a while he loses perspective on things. And then what can I really say to him, without upsetting him further? I mumbled, “Sure, you say that now, but just wait until…”

David didn’t even let me finish. “I’m through for the day Jon,” he yelled as he walked off in the direction of his house. “I’m going back home to read my book. I’ll see you around tomorrow maybe, OK?”

You would have thought I forced the charcoal into his hand and made him draw. “OK, right. Take care. See you round tomorrow.”

And then after that, what was there really left to do but head home. I lived on the outskirts of the city, so maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to start heading back early anyway.

I walked through the down town area along the brick road. I passed the church where David and his family attend. Just a little further from that was our school. I hurried past the church and the school as quickly as I could. I considered it bad luck to linger around either. I had a sense that, even though the school was closed for the summer, it might suddenly come back to life and suck me back in if I was foolish enough to linger around in front of it. As for churches, they always contained in them an air of stuffiness that might leap onto me if I wandered too close.

Past some more shops. I could see the University off in the distance. Or actually all I could really see was the chapel tower with the huge cross on the top of it. The rest of the University was hidden by the large wall surrounding it.

Even though the University was really just another kind of school, it held a certain attraction for me. Mostly I was just curious about what it looked like. I wanted to see what was behind the wall.

However they were very strict about it. They never let anyone besides University students inside. David and I had tried to get in before.

And so I had to be content just looking at the large crucifix balanced on the chapel tower. The large cross towered over the rest of the city. It was like a large eye protecting the city. Even I had to admit it was a sight to behold if you saw it at the right time of day. Now it was the evening, and the sun was just setting down behind the cross. Rays of sunlight spilled out from behind the cross, and the sun was obscured from view. You almost got the impression that the cross itself was the origin of the light. And the cross, by its benevolence, scattered the golden rays of evening on all the houses and shops below.

I came to a river and crossed a bridge. On the other side of the river the brick road ended, and a dirt road began. The dirt was hardened by horses hooves and the wagon wheels, but my feet managed to kick up some dust as I walked along.

There were still houses along both sides of the road, but the houses were now slightly apart, and there was a small garden between each house. As I continued along the road, the gardens became bigger and bigger. The houses were getting bigger as well.

I came upon another church. This was the one my family and I attended on Sunday mornings. It was a lot newer than the one David and his family attended. It was bigger also, even though less people attended it. Due to my fear of churches, I hurried past it as quickly as I could.

Finally I arrived at my house. I was pretty sure the only one home was Abel, not counting the servants. My father usually worked late.

I walked along the path through our garden and to the door of the house, I tugged at the huge door handle, and it opened with a loud creak.


I hate it when the door makes a noise. I like to come and go without people knowing about it. Once the servants saw it was only me, they went back to their usual business. Only the butler stayed.

“Welcome home Jonathon. Is there anything you’ll be needing?”

“No, I’m fine. Where is everyone?”

“Your younger brother is taking a nap. Your father is still with the Duke, and won’t be expected home for a couple more hours. He did leave instructions though that you were to clean up before dinner tonight. I can draw your bath whenever you’re ready.”

“Not just yet. I’m going to go out back and play with the dogs for a while,” I answered. “I’ll be back inside soon.”

**********************************************

My father’s eyes narrowed in the candlelight. He had been very quiet all dinner, and I could tell that his mind was still at work even though his body had come home. He was staring off into space with his usual distracted expression as he slowly chewed his food. Abel and I occasionally looked at each other, but both of us were more than happy to let the dinner pass in silence, and neither of us tried to talk to my father.

As I was reaching across the table for another piece of bread, my father’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed my wrist. “Hey!” I yelled out in protest. I tried to pull my arm back, but he held firm on my wrist and then turned my hand over. He pulled my whole arm into the candlelight and examined it.

“I left specific instructions that you were to clean up before dinner. Did you get my message?”

Because it wasn’t really a question, it never crossed my mind to try and lie about it. He knew that the butler had told me. “Yeah, I got it.”

He tightened his grip on my wrist. “And?”

“I was going to, but I lost track of the time. I’ll clean up after dinner.”

It was always difficult to tell how he was going to react. He was very unpredictable. Depending on his mood, or what kind of day he had at work, or how much sleep he got the night before, or a million other unforeseen factors, he might either choose to overlook this, or he could make a big deal about it and lecture me for the rest of dinner, or he might even explode into an angry temper tantrum and shout at Abel and I for the rest of the dinner, maybe throw some plates onto the ground, and then stomp angrily into the other room.

He gave my arm a final tug forward, practically bringing me out of my seat and onto the table myself. He tightened his grip, looked into my eyes and said slowly, “This doesn’t happen again. When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it.” And then that was it. He let go of my arm, and went back to eating his food. I had gotten off easy.

Once the food had been cleared away, and the servants brought him coffee and his pipe, he became more pleasant. He lit his pipe and took in the first few puffs to get the flame going. He sipped his coffee, and then leaned back in his chair.

Abel and I were not considered old enough to have either tobacco or coffee, but we were stuck at the table until my father officially dismissed us. He made an effort to engage us in conversation. Turning to me first, he said, “So tell me Jonathon, what did you do today?”

“Nothing really. I hung out first with Simon, and then David in the afternoon. We looked at the pictures of the Restoration heroes down town.”

He groaned. “Oh, the posters? Don’t talk about that now. I just spent all day getting ready for Restoration week. I’ve told Flash again and again I don’t think any of it is worth it. And Angelo. He is obsessed with having his poster all over the city. You would not believe the headaches Angelo is causing me.”

“I saw his picture,” Abel said. “Was Angelo the greatest hero?”

My father let out a small laugh, took a drink of his coffee, and then answered. “Well, you would certainly think so by looking at the posters, wouldn’t you?

“Depending on which one you looked at,” I chimed in.

For half-a-second, my father gave me a puzzled look, then disregarded me and turned his attention back to Abel. “Angelo wasn’t any more of a hero than the rest of us. I did just as many heroic things as Angelo. And of course Flash was the biggest hero of us all.”

Abel leaned forward eagerly. He was always like this when my father told the old stories. “Tell me about the Restoration again,” Abel pleaded. “Please, please tell the stories again.”

I cringed at hearing these words, because I knew my father never turned down a request to talk about the old days. Not that I blamed Abel for asking this. When I was his age I never tired of hearing about the Restoration either. But I was feeling a little too old to sit through these stories once again. Besides I had heard it all a million times before. “Can I go now?” I asked.

My father turned sharply on me. “You will sit there until I dismiss you,” he yelled.

I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest in a sullen manner as my father turned back to Abel. He inhaled a mouthful of smoke and let it out slowly, contemplating the wisps of smoke as they curled upwards. At last he said, “You should have seen Flash. “The way he commanded the men, the way he inspired them, it was something. I’ll never forget the way he lead the charge up the hill. Jonathon, don’t roll your eyes.” I didn’t think he could see me, but like all parents he had extra senses. He didn’t even break his rhythm, but kept on with his story. “I was right at his side the whole time. So was Timothy. The Blues poured down bullets on us like rain, but the three of us stayed in the front of the charge till the end. We got to the top, and Flash wanted to be the first one to fire his revolver into the Blue stronghold. His gun misfired right at the moment when they were coming at us. The Blues would have had him then if I hadn’t fired twice.”

“You saved his life?” Abel said in amazement.

My father smiled and dismissed Abel’s comment with a shake of his head. “It was nothing. I had my revolver ready and I fired twice at the Blues. It was what any man would have done. I was a dead shot in those days as well. Hit the Blues right between the eyes, both of them. They fell to the ground like anvils, their heads hitting first. Flash didn’t even stop to thank me. He just took their guns off of them and then plunged into the Blue fortress. It was pure suicide, but he always had to be the first to go anywhere. He saved my life many times. I saved his life that once. It was just what he expected. No words of thanks were necessary.”

“And Angelo?” Abel was leaning forward eagerly to hear every word.

“Angelo was there as well. He came into the fortress right behind us. Angelo was ruthless in those days. He wanted to kill every single Blue. Flash was more generous. Once we had defeated the Blues and secured the fortress, Flash let all the surviving Blues go. Timothy and I agreed with Flash. The Blues had fought just as bravely as we had. They deserved their lives. But Angelo was furious. He wanted to avenge all our dead. He wanted to kill all the Blues in revenge for the men we lost. Flash won the argument of course.”

My father took a deep breath. “Ah, the Restoration days,” he said. He was looking in Abel’s direction but his eyes were looking past Abel. “Those were great days. The Whites and the Blues taught each other how to die like heroes. You never see that kind of heroism these days. The best men all died in the Restoration battle. Like Mucius; he took two bullets, one in the leg and one in the shoulder. It knocked him clean to the ground. We all thought he was done for the day, but he stood back up. With blood pouring out of his leg he kept running up the hill. The Blues had never seen anything like it before. He got cut down in the next volley, but he died like a hero. Timothy and I picked his body up and shielded it from the Blues. We brought it back to be buried at our home in the country.” His voice was getting a little weak at this point. No matter how many times he told this story, his voice always got scratchy when he mentioned the burial.

There was a moment of silence. My father was lost in his own thoughts, and Abel was too awed to speak. Even I thought it would be disrespectful to disturb him now. And then, becoming aware of the silence, he snapped out of it. “That’s why Angelo wanted to kill all of the Blues; in revenge for men like Mucius. And I could understand his reasons, but in the end I sided with Flash. The Blues had fought just as bravely as we had. There were heroes on both sides. I never hated the Blues. I respected them for their bravery. And they didn’t hate us. When we finally won, you should have seen how eagerly they bowed down to Flash. There wasn’t a trace of resentment or anger in them. It was touching to see how much they admired Flash, even though he had beaten them. And after the battle, Flash pardoned every single one of them; all the ones that survived the charge at least.”

“Are there any Blues left?” Abel asked.

“No, the war has been over for a long time now. The Restoration was 20 years ago, before either of you were even born. There are no Blues or Whites left anymore.”

“But I want to fight in the war,” Abel protested.

My father chuckled. When he was in a good mood, his voice had a deep, rich, almost friendly quality to it. “I don’t think this country could handle another war like that. The last one was bad enough. That’s why I fought in the Restoration; to make sure there would be peace when my children were born. We won, and there has been peace in Fabulae ever since.” And yet despite his words, there was something in my father’s voice, which suggested he was pleased with Abel’s comment.

Although he hadn’t finished all of his coffee, my father pushed his cup and saucer to the side. The servants, who had been watching silently, descended un-beckoned to clear away his coffee and the remainder of the table decorations. My father stood up, indicating that the dinner was officially over, and we were dismissed. “I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight, so I don’t want to be disturbed,” he said. “If you boys can’t occupy yourselves quietly tonight, I will find things for you to do. And don’t stay up too late either. Remember we have church in the morning. I don’t want either of you oversleeping tomorrow morning.”

******************************************************************************

My head was still a bit groggy. It was eight in the morning. Eight wasn’t early, but then early is a relative term. During summer vacation I usually slept in till around nine every day. Eight seemed like the crack of dawn. If it was during the school year, when I was used to getting up early, it wouldn’t be so bad. But now my head was heavy with sleep, and I lumbered around the room. I wanted nothing more than to just fling myself down on the bed and go back to sleep, but…

“Jonathon, hurry up! I told you last night specifically not to oversleep.” Even though he was on the bottom floor, my father’s voice came up to my room loud and clear. I tried to shake the sleepiness off as I made my way towards my clothes.

My Sunday clothes were in an entirely different part of the closet than my regular clothes. They didn’t get touched except for Sunday. They were also year round clothes, which meant they were all right in winter, but in the summer heat they were stifling. I sat down on the bed as I put on the long black pants, then the socks. I always thought my black Sunday socks were very itchy, but I knew they weren’t designed for comfort.

My Sunday shoes were slightly too small for my feet, but my father insisted that there was no need to get a new pair since I only wore them once a week anyway. I crammed my feet into them. The itchiness of the socks now combined with the tightness of the shoes. It wasn’t so bad now, but I knew during the sermon it would drive me crazy. Because I was only 15, I still wasn’t expected to wear a tie to church. And yet the stiff collared shirt alone was bad enough in summer. I could feel the stiff collar rubbing my neck.

I put my finger under the collar in a futile attempt to stop the rubbing. As I pulled at the collar, I walked to the window and looked outside. It was a beautiful morning.

“Jonathon!” His voice had risen in pitch. He was losing patience. I decided it would be unsafe to keep him waiting much longer.

“Coming,” I yelled back. I buckled my shoes, and was out the door. I put on my belt as I walked down the stairs, and met my father and Abel standing at the door.

My father looked at his watch impatiently. “So you’re going to make us late this week again as well Jonathon?”

I glanced at the grandfather clock down the hall. “We’re not late yet.”

“Well we’re not going to be early either,” he said sternly. The tone of his voice checked me from making some sort of remark in reply.

Abel was five years younger than me, and had not yet learned when it is best to stay quiet. “I don’t want to go to church today,” he whined.

Abel was standing directly in front of my father, so he was within easy reach. My father’s hands came down and grabbed Abel’s shoulders. Abel winced as my father’s hands squeezed his shoulders, but I knew it was only a warning. “Don’t you ever complain about going to church again,” my father said. Adding one last squeeze for emphasis, my father released his grip. Abel was silent.

My father opened the door, and we walked out.

**************************************************

The church was only about a ten-minute walk from our house. In fact all the families that attended lived nearby. Most of my school friends lived close to the center of town, and that meant there was almost nobody I knew at our church. The only classmate at my church was Rosa, and she never talked to me anyway so it was just as if she wasn’t there.

Abel was luckier than I was. He had about 5 or 6 friends from school at the church. They always played together after the sermon, while I was left standing with my hands in my pocket or making small talk with the adults.


The church had just been remodeled, and still looked new and shiny from the outside. It had the usual steeple and stained glass windows, which I suppose are standard on every church. Inside it had rows of pews are facing the large cross at the front. Below the cross was the minister’s pulpit. He was already standing at the pulpit and beginning the service when we walked in. My father hated being late, and he glared at me as we entered.

The ushers quickly showed us to our seats. There were three open spaces in a pew toward the center back. As I sat down, I noticed that we were sitting directly behind Rosa.

No sooner had we sat down then the service began. The minister held his hands out over the congregation in his standard blessing pose. “And now,” he said in his deep voice, “let us pray.” My head immediately dropped down to a bowed position out of years of habit. “Dear God, we thank you today for all the blessings you have given us. We thank you that we are so gifted to live in a wonderful country, and so blessed with great abundance of wealth. We thank you for the era of peace that we now live in, and we thank you that you have sent your servant, the Duke, to watch over our land and to keep our people safe and prosperous. We pray God that we may serve you better…” His voice drowned on in monotone. I had a hard time concentrating on what he was saying, but I kept my head bowed and my eyes closed in a reverent position.

I always felt a little light heading after praying for a long time. With my head bowed down, the blood swirled down into it. I couldn’t see anything because my eyes were closed, but if I kept my eyes closed long enough, I began to imagine that I actually did see light patterns playing off the back of my eyelids. The longer I concentrated on those patterns, the more light headed I got. Eventually I decided to discreetly open my eyes for a while, and see if that helped to clear my brain.

Abel was always worse than me. Now that my eyes were opened, I could see him fidgeting in the other seat. Because my head was still bowed down, and because my father was sitting between Abel and myself, I couldn’t see him well, but I could see the movement.

My father must have noticed the same thing, because out of the corner of my eye I could see my father’s hand come down strong on Abel’s neck, and force Abel’s head back into a bowed position.

I closed my eyes again. The minister seemed to be wrapping up his prayer. “And we pray God that you may continue to bless our nation, and continue to bless our gracious leader the Duke. In your most holy name, Amen.”

Everyone raised their head and opened their eyes at once. I blinked a few times. The church seemed to be unusually bright. “Please open your hymnals and turn to page 93,” the minister said, “and sing with our choir.

As the singing began, I noticed several people were turning around and looking toward the back of the church. Rosa, who was sitting in front of me, turned around and looked backwards. Her eyes looked right past me. I smiled at her in a greeting, but she didn’t appear to notice me. After years of going to Church and school with her, I knew that her ability not to notice me was almost superhuman.

At last I also turned my head to see what everyone was looking at. The Duke had just entered the back of the Church. He almost always arrived late. There was a seat reserved for him at the back of the church. He slipped into calmly and grabbed a hymnal and opened it up and starting singing, as if he had been in the church from the start of the service.

Old Flash wasn’t that interesting, so I returned my gaze to the front of the church and continued singing the hymn. Rosa as well turned around and looked at the front, without ever having given any indication that she even noticed I was there.

We finished the hymn, and the minister directed everyone to sit down. Between the hymns that the congregation sang, and the songs that the choir performed, there was always a lot of music in church, but I have a hard time remembering any of it. Church music always sounds the same to me. After a while it all blends in into the same song.

The minister began his sermon on the importance of holiness. My father kept a strict eye on us to ensure that Abel and I did not sleep during the sermon, but I had a hard time concentrating just the same. My mind wandered in and out. I began to imagine things on the wall behind the minister. I looked at the large cross standing behind him. How many lines could I intersect with that cross vertically? What about perpendicular? How many more crosses of the same size could fit on the wall? I usually figured about 3 full size crosses, and then one half, but every week I rechecked my measurements.

The sermon ended. We sang a closing hymn. The minister gave us his benediction, and then everyone stood up to leave. Rosa turned around and made a beeline for the exit, again walking past me but taking no notice.

The Duke shook hands with everyone as they were leaving. In every handshake he exuded a warmth and friendliness that flowed out of his body. He smiled at each person and made them feel like they were his best friend. And, a natural politician, he was able to do all this without showing effort. He was a regular presence at this church, and everyone was used to seeing him, and most were on friendly terms. However my father was the only one close enough to the Duke to address him by his nickname.

“Flash, how are you doing?” he called out as slapped his palm into the Duke’s outstretched hand.

“Not too bad,” Flash said with a wide smile. “I hear Angelo has been working you hard lately.”

My father made a face. “I swear this whole nonsense with the Restoration anniversary–.”

“Now don’t you start that again,” Flash cut him off. “I’ve been listening to you complain all week.” Flash was the same age as my father, but he had aged very well. There were some streaks of gray in his hair, mixed in with the black, and his face was looking slightly weathered but without wrinkles. His eyes still had a youthful look in them. And whereas My father had developed a slight gut recently, Flash was still as fit and trim as ever. He looked very statesman like. “And how are you doing, Jonathon?” the Duke asked.

“We’re all busy trying to keep him out of trouble,” my father said.

“Now Paul, let the boy talk. School’s starting again soon isn’t it? How old are you this year Jonathon? Sixteen? Seventeen?”

He was smooth that Flash. No one else told ever told me I looked that old. I knew he was just flattering me, but I swelled up with pride just the same. “I’m fifteen.”

Flash shook his head in disbelief and looked at my father. “I still remember the day Jonathon was born. It’s amazing how fast he’s growing up.” He looked back down at me. “Before you know it, you’ll be working for me just like your father.”

“Oh, that’s a long way off yet,” my father put in hastily.

“It will be here before you know it,” Flash said. “He’s fourteen now. Only eight more years and I’ll be listening to him complain about the Restoration Anniversary.” Flash looked at me again. “What have you been doing this summer Jonathon?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer this. I knew the Duke didn’t want to hear about everything single thing I had been doing, and yet I didn’t feel that my summer adventures lended themselves to short sound bites. “Nothing.”

Flash seemed to think this was incredibly funny. “Now that’s a lie if I ever heard one,” he said after a hearty chuckle. “You’ve been getting into all sorts of trouble, haven’t you? You’re father is always telling stories about you. Aren’t you Paul?”

This is a prime example of why I hated talking to my father’s friends. It was like I wasn’t really part of the conversation, but simply a conversation prop for the two of them to talk about. I looked past the Duke and saw the sun streaming in through the door. “Can I go outside?” I asked my father.

“Jonathon, the Duke is talking to you.” My father couldn’t yell at me in the Church, but his voice had a strained quality to it.

The Duke only laughed. He turned his head around to follow my gaze out the door. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it Jonathon? You go ahead.”

I had no more friends outside than I did inside. Abel and his friends were running and laughing and playing some sort of tag. But there was no one my age. Rosa, even if she would have acknowledged me, was already walking home with her family.

But outside was always better than inside, if for no other reason than to escape the stale, stuffy air that stays inside the church. Although, basking in the warm sunshine only made me more conscious that I had spent the morning in its absence.

The Church was on a hill, and from the doorway I could see out over the whole neighborhood. In every direction were elegant looking mansions and expansive gardens. I could hear a dog barking from somewhere.

Abel and his friends ran in front of me, briefly distracting me from my thoughts. I followed them with my eyes as they ran around the churchyard. Since Abel was younger, he was allowed to still normally for church. I couldn’t imagine running around in my Church clothes. I moved so stiffly in them. Plus my father would kill me if he caught me running around and wrestling on the grass with these clothes on. I longed to be home already and fling all of these clothes on the floor.

Many of the adults said good-bye to me as they left the church. Eventually my father and the Duke left the church, still laughing and talking to each other on their way out the door. Then Abel and I walked home with our father.

We walked most of the way home in silence. My father was obviously brooding about something, but I thought it best not to ask. Sometimes if you leave him alone long enough, his anger eventually passes by itself. Then again, sometimes he can turn unexpectedly and angrily bring up something that happened hours or days before.

When we were halfway home, my father turned to me suddenly and said, “You weren’t very polite to the Duke this morning.”

I waited to see if he would elaborate, but he just looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I replied automatically.

“When he is talking to you, you answer his questions fully. If he asks you what you are doing this summer, don’t you ever say ‘nothing’ again.”

“But you just answer the questions for me anyway,” I said.

He grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. “What I say has nothing to do with this. I’m talking about how you act in front of the Duke. And don’t you ever, ever ask to go outside while he’s still speaking to you.” The prospect of a long conversation with old Flash did not thrill me, and it must have reflected on my face because my father took it upon himself to convince me further. “You know, you’re going to be working for him someday. You might as well get on good terms with him now.”

“What if I don’t want to work for the Duke?” I knew better than to say that, but I acted without thinking.

“Don’t be stupid Jonathon,” my father replied, as if the question was not even worth addressing. He started walking again. Abel and I followed him. We walked the rest of the way home in silence.

Second Draft Chapter 2

A little excitement can sometimes be a dangerous thing.

You think to yourself that if you just had a little excitement, you could get everything out of your system. But excitement is addictive. The more of it you have, the more of it you want.

You might think that after being chased by the police the previous week, I would have had all the excitement I could handle for a while. Instead the opposite began to happen. I began to wish for more trouble.

My whole life suddenly seemed to be incredibly dreary. I went to school. I sat down in my seat. I sat and listened to what they had to say. I did what they told me to do. I went to church and sat in my seat and listened to the minister. I went home and listened to my father. I was always sitting, always listening, always doing what other people told me to do.

When the police had been chasing me, it was the one moment I had felt truly alive. The blood pounding in my ears, my legs leaping off the road, the speed that I was capable of, all of it became a fixation for me.

Of course the running in itself wasn’t special. I had run lots of times before. They made us run in gym class, and I always hated it then. But with the police in pursuit everything was very real. Every movement I made counted for something. Every burst of energy was important. After I had done that, how was I could I run in gym class ever again? Even the games I played with Simon and David seemed pale in comparison.

I never really planned anything. I never made a conscious decision that I was going to court danger again. It was just an impulse. A sudden, foolish impulse.

It was still summer, but the weather was unseasonable cool that day. A gentle breeze was in the air. It was a small breeze; enough to gently cool my face, but no more. It was the kind of day that just made me feel like running.

I was on my way to David’s house, when I passed a police station. It wasn’t the main police station, just one of the small neighborhood branches. There were only two officers there. One was inside, the other was standing outside. The one outside nodded a greeting to me, and I automatically nodded back.

I kept walking but I could see him from the corner of my eye. He was obviously tired from standing outside all day. He took off his hat and set it on the window ledge next to him while he ran his fingers through his hair. A bucked filled with water was hanging from a rope next to the police station. He walked over and began to drink from it. I stopped and starred at the hat.

I don’t think I had ever seen one up close before. I always saw it off in the distance on the head of a police officer. Now it was in my reach. It was mostly black, with gold stars on the front. It was new and sparkled in the sunlight. I had to have it.

The policeman was still drinking. The bucket was significantly bigger than his mouth, so that as much water was spilling down his chin as was going down his throat. He didn’t seem to mind. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down greedily even as the water fell off his chin and onto the brick road. It was a long drink, but it would be over any second.

If I had time enough I might have thought carefully over all the potential consequences. But since I had no time, I simply acted. As the policeman tilted his head back for one final gulp, I dashed forward, grabbed the hat, turned, and ran.

I’m not sure when he noticed me, but I could hear his heavy footsteps behind me soon enough. I was running for all I was worth. I don’t know what would happen if he caught me, but I was sure it wouldn’t be good.

He was relatively young as police officers go. Probably in his mid-twenties. His legs are longer than mine, and a lot faster than me as well. I may have had the head start, but I could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer. “Why couldn’t you have stolen a hat from someone old and out of shape?” I asked myself.

I was running wild now. My arms were moving back and forth as fast as my legs. Up ahead is the main street. I burst out of the side street and onto the main street with him right behind me the whole time. I had so much momentum now that I could hardly turn, but somehow I managed to turn down the main street and keep running.

I couldn’t feel my legs. I was terrified, but I was also filled with the excitement. My numb legs carried me down the street. We passed all the shops. We passed the bakery where David and I had drawn on Angelo’s face. There was a new poster of Angelo on the window, but I didn’t have time to notice it.

He’s almost got me now. I could hear his footsteps right behind me. I could even hear his breathing. I felt at any moment he could reach out and grab me. I would never make it to the market like last time.

The adrenaline had kept me running so far, but it was beginning to catch up to me. My breathing was getting heavy as I was gasping for breath. My side was beginning to hurt. Part of me wanted to just slow down and let him catch me. He was going to get me anyway. Why delay the inevitable?

I didn’t consciously decide to slow down, but my legs seemed to guess what my brain was thinking, and slowed down on their own. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his arm reach out to grab me. No, not yet, I decided. I’ve got a bit more energy in me yet. He’s not going to catch me yet. I gave myself one final burst of energy. He snatched at the air.

In a desperate attempt I turned off down an alley, not knowing what I would find. The very suddenness of the turn took him by surprise. He kept running down the street as I darted into the alley. By the time he changed directions, I had gained a little more time.

It was a small narrow alley. Brick houses were lined up on either side. And at the end of the alley was a small wooden wall. A dead end.

I kept running forward anyway. Under the wall was a small crawl space underneath for the rainwater to run. I was small enough to fit under it, but I didn’t think he was.

I lost a little bit of time getting down on my hands and knees, but he was still catching up. I could just barely squeeze under the fence. I tossed the hat through to the other side first, and then wriggled my body through. First my head came out the other side. Once I got my arms through, I use them to push against the wall, and the rest of my body came through much easier. I was almost all the way through when I felt him grab my ankle. He gave my leg a rough pull and half my body was jerked back under to the other side.

But the crawl space was too small for him to pull me all the way through. It was only with a lot of wriggling and squirming that I had made it halfway through in the first place. I knew, especially if I put up a fight, that I couldn’t be pulled back through again against my will. He was able to pull my legs, but my upper body refused to go under the wall. I used my arms to brace against the wall and pushed in the other direction.

He jerked hard on my leg. I hollered in pain. I kicked wildly with my free leg. Beneath the soles of my shoe I felt my foot hit something. He loosened his grip, and I quickly pulled my legs through.

I scrambled to my feet on the other side. As soon as I was standing, I ran over to the hat and made sure it was okay. It had some dirt on it, but once I brushed it off it still looked as new and shiny as ever.

But my relief was cut short. I heard some clattering noises, and looked behind me to see that he had actually found a way to climb over the wall. He must have climbed up on one of the windowsills on the adjoining houses. Then from there he could probably reach the top of the wall, and pull himself up. When I realized what was happening, he was already swinging his legs over the wall.

I started running again. I turned down the first street I could find, and then down the next one after that. I was weaving in and out of all the alleys and back ways. My hope was to be able to loose him before he could catch up to me again, but I soon heard this heavy footsteps pounding behind me.

[Tense change? Present tense for more vividness?] It was only a matter of time before he would get me now.

I ducked down another alley, only to notice that it was another dead end. There was a red brick wall at the end of it. I didn’t have time to ponder my bad luck. All I could think about was how to get around it.

As I got nearer to it, I realized that it was the church wall. And there was no way under this time. And it was too high to climb over.

Except for maybe that tree standing next to it. I could climb the branches. The first branch was just out of my reach, but maybe….

First I tossed the hat high into the air and it went over the wall and onto the other side. Then I ran and jumped and latched onto the first branch. I was hanging by just my arms at first, and I had to struggle to pull the rest of my body up with me. I pulled my chin up to the branch, and then he caught me again. He grabbed me around the waist and tried to pull me down. My arms stretched out, and my chin bumped the branch as it went back down, but my hands held tight.

I squirmed and kicked against him. He loosened his grip and I tried to pull myself up to the branch again. He grabbed me and pulled down again. This time I simply let go. With the added force of his tub, my body fell into him and it knocked us both to the ground. He hit first and I landed on his soft body.

I got back up before he had a chance to realize what happened. His hands reached to grab me, but he catches only the air.

I still had a few seconds before he gets to his feet. Instead of jumping for the branch again, I climbed up on the windowsill of the neighboring house. He was beginning to sit up now, still dazed from the fall.

From the windowsill I can step onto the branch. I put my hand on the trunk to steady myself. I put one foot on the branch and then shifted my weight forward onto my outstretched leg. The branch bent slightly. Instinctively I backed off.

The policeman was standing. I put my weight onto the branch again, and stepped off from the windowsill. The branch wavered. I hugged the trunk for support.

Once I have reached the first branch, the others are all close by. It’s almost like climbing a ladder as I quickly stand on one branch after another.

The policeman, enraged, grabbed at the first branch. He was taller than me, so he could reach it easily, but by this time I had already moved on to the other branches. He grabbed the first branch and made an effort to pull himself up. He managed to get his neck above the branch, kicked his legs in the air while his face reddened with the effort, and then, decided it was taking too long, and dropped back to the ground.

He ran to the windowsill and climbed up on that. He leaped recklessly to the first branch. He landed his jump perfectly, but the branch snapped under his weight, and he tumbles to the ground. He was sprawled out on the ground now, using swear words I didn’t even now existed. He got up, but I noticed that he got up very slowly. He walked over to the tree with a noticeable limp.

I was at the top of the wall by this time. I could drop over to the other side any moment, but I waited to see what he would do. I already had one foot over the wall. He looked up at me. Our eyes locked for maybe ten seconds. And then he limped away.

[tense change?] Getting down was almost as tricky as getting up. There were no trees in the church on which to climb down. There were, however, soft bushes directly under the wall. That at least was an improvement from the hard bricks on the street side. I supposed I should be grateful for small blessings.

I lowered myself off the wall slowly. First I put one foot over, then the other. I grabbed the edge of the wall with my hands, and hung down with my legs dangling below me so that I would only have a short way to fall before I reached the bushes.

I let go. The bush broke my fall nicely, although I had broken the bush. It was crushed under me and its nicely trimmed branches were now broken and pointing in every direction. I took a moment to examine myself for injuries. One of my elbows was bleeding, but other than that I was fine. Satisfied with my examination, I got out of the bush. I knew I should leave before the church groundskeeper saw me. This wasn’t my church of course. It was the downtown church, where Simon, David, and the rest of my classmates went. Still, better to get out of here just the same.

The hat was lying on the ground near the bush. I picked it up and dusted it off. As I held the hat, I suddenly realized that it was mine. There was no one chasing me now. It was all mine. I had actually managed to take it, and I had escaped. The glory of what I had done enveloped me. I was so enamored with myself, I temporarily forgot about the flattened bush and the groundskeeper lurking somewhere. Then, a sharp sound startled me back into reality. I think it was the sound of a dog barking nearby. It wasn’t barking at me, but the sound still jolted me back to my senses. I looked around to make sure there was no one else in the yard. And then I ran around to the front of the church, out the gate, and back into the street.

I couldn’t wait to tell David. I could already imagine the look on his face. Somehow I still had the energy to run to his house.

I rapped on the door impatiently. When no one answered, I knocked again. I took a few steps back to get a wider view of the house, but I could see no one moving inside. I went up to one of the side windows and pressed my face against the glass. “Hello! Hello!”

I thought maybe I could see a figure moving. She was walking leisurely across the room-…Nuts to this! I didn’t have the patience to wait around today.

David’s room in the basement had a small window that was level with the street [go back and change from 1st chapter]. I got down on my hands and knees and pounded on it. I cupped my hands around my face so I could see through the window. The glass wasn’t very clean, but I could see a blurry figure of David sitting against the wall and…He was reading some sort of book. He noticed me, but he was slow in getting up. I tried to pry the window open from the outside in my impatience. When that didn’t work, I rapped on the window again. Finally David came over and opened it with an annoyed look on his face.

“What Jon?” The two words had an unusual crispness to them, as if David was trying to indicate his annoyance by his clear enunciation.

I slid my legs through the open window and then jumped down into the room.　　I had the hat hidden behind me at first. With a very deliberate motion meant to build up the suspense, I slowly revealed the hat. Once it was out in the open, I held out the hat triumphantly to David. He looked at it blankly for a moment. Then suddenly his eyes widened. “What the hell is that?” His voice had changed from annoyance to anger, but I knew him well enough to detect a note of amazement hidden underneath.

“It’s a police ha-…”

He didn’t even let me finish. “Have you lost your mind?”

“No I, I…” Wait just a minute. What did he think he was doing putting me on the defensive like this? “David would you just let me tell my story?” I blurted out. “I came all the way over here just to tell you about this.”

He sighed. “Fine Jon, go ahead.”

I launched into my story. I told the whole thing, with all of the details, right down to the weathered look on the policeman’s face. [Go back and add]. David tried to interrupt at one point, but I stopped him. “Come on David, you said you’d let me tell my story,” I complained. He shut his mouth, and just motioned for me to continue.

As I told the story, I could tell he was getting more and more into it. He was fighting it, but he couldn’t help getting swept away by the drama of my story. I could tell just by watching his expression. He found it harder and harder to hold his stern face. And by the end of the story, his face had gone over completely to one of amazement.

As I finished my story, David’s face broke into a smile. “You’re incredible man. Insane,” he took a breath, “but incredible.”

“This hat is nothing,” I said proudly. “I’m going to get myself a whole uniform next time.”

He laughed dismissively. “Yeah, whatever. I’d like to see that one Jon.” But even then there was a look of admiration in his eyes, as if he really thought I could do it. And at the moment, I really thought I could do it as well.

Excitement still flowed through my limbs, and I felt that I couldn’t stay here confined in David’s small room. I felt the walls closing in on me already. “Come on, let’s go outside,” I said.

I started for the window again. “Are you sure?” David asked. “Don’t you want to lay low for a while or something like that?” He was trying to sound like a gangster, and not doing it very well. “Until the heat dies down I mean.”

“No it will be alright. Let’s go find Simon and show him.” And then we were out the window and back into the streets.

We never did find Simon. He wasn’t at his house, and his mom didn’t know where he was. We went around to all his usual hangouts, but he was nowhere to be found that day.

In the end I was happy just to have spent the afternoon outside. After the excitement of the morning, my blood was racing too much to be indoors. And I was happy to spend the time with David. He was a good person to talk to. He had a way of making you think that whatever you were talking about was the most fascinating thing ever. We skipped rocks in the stream, and I babbled on about life and home and my father and brother, and he listened to me the whole time. He made small comments every now and then, but never tried to change the focus of the conversation.

And then, once the church bells rang at five O’clock, I parted ways and I headed home.

Once I got home, I circled around to the back of the garden where there was a small wooden tool shed. The door gave a lot of resistance as I pulled it open, and the air inside the shed was very and old smelling. The shed didn’t get a lot of use anymore, and I figured it would be safe to hide the hat there for a couple days at least. But, just to be safe I hid it in a corner on the back shelf, behind some old sacks.

It wouldn’t have been safe to just walk into the house with the police hat. Even if my father wasn’t home, the servants might say something. And even if the servants didn’t say anything, Abel was sure to blab about it if he found out. Abel could never keep his mouth shut about anything.

With the hat securely stowed away in the tool shed, I made my way back to the front of the house, and strolled in the front door. I was immediately greeted by one of the servants. “Your father’s waiting for you sir,” he said.

Evidently my father overheard, because he shouted from the dining room. “Jonathon! We’re in here.” I entered to see my father and Abel already eating.

“You’re late,” he said. “I told you dinner was going to be at 6 tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, slipping into my chair. Again, this was the sort of thing that he could either explode at, or simply let pass, depending on his mood. He chose to let it pass.

“Your dinner’s cold,” he said sharply. “You’re lucky I let you eat dinner at all. Your grandfather would have sent me straight to bed without anything to eat if I arrived late at the table. When I say six, I want you here at six Jonathon.”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” I said again.

For a couple minutes, the silence was only broken by the clink of spoons against soup bowls, and the slurping of the soup itself. Then my father asked us, “so, what did you boys do today?”

“Nothing,” Abel whined. “I was in this house all day doing nothing. I hate summer.”

“Well if you feel that way, I have a lot of work around the house that needs to be done,” my father answered. “That should keep you busy.”

The pitch of Abel’s whining went up. “I want to go into town.”

“You can’t go into town by yourself until you’re older.”

“But Jon goes-” Abel began.

My father cut him off. “Don’t argue with me Abel,” he said sternly. “You can’t go by yourself until you’re older.”

There were a couple more minutes of silence following this outburst. Then my father addressed me. “And what did you do today Jonathon?”

“Nothing,” I answered.

“You were gone from this house all day, and you didn’t do a single thing?”

“Nothing important.”

“Well, why don’t you take Abel with you when you do nothing tomorrow?”

“He can’t keep up with us,” I protested.

“If you’re doing nothing then it shouldn’t be a problem.” Underneath the sternness there was a bit of sarcasm in his voice. He thought he was being clever.

“But Dad-.”

“Don’t argue with me Jonathon.” His voice was trembling slightly, and I could tell he wasn’t far from one of his explosions. I decided to shut up.

“School will be starting in a week anyway,” he continued in a slightly calmer voice. “And then we won’t have to worry about how you boys spend your spare time. In the mean time, just take your little brother with you when you go into town.” He stopped there and went back to eating his soup, but shortly afterwards he started up again as if struck by a new thought. “And watch him Jonathon. Don’t just take him to town and leave him there. Keep your eye on him.”

After dinner the servants cleared away our plates. My father stood up and dismissed us. “I want you boys to get to bed early tonight,” he said. “No more staying up late, and then sleeping the morning away. You’re going to wake up early tomorrow. School is starting again soon, and you might as well get used to that schedule.
“I want to hear about the Restoration again,” Abel pleaded. “Can you read to me about the Restoration before I go to bed.”

My father took out his pocket watch. “I do have some work left to do tonight. But I suppose I could read to you about the Restoration a little first. Jonathon, do you want to hear as well?

“No, I’m going to go outside and play with the dogs,” I said.

“Don’t stay out too late. I mean what I said about not sleeping all morning again.” I nodded. Abel was now gently tugging at my father’s arm to get him to come into the reading room. My father laughed. “Okay Abel, you go ahead of me. I’m going to see if I can find one of the books on the Restoration around here. Then we’ll read it together.”

Second Draft Chapter 3

“Wake up Jon! Wake up!” I lay still and pretended not to hear. Not only was Abel being too loud, his voice was way too cheerful for this time of the morning. What time was it anyway?

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!” He shook my body.

“Go away,” I grumbled. My hand made a lazy backwards swing in his general direction.

“Dad said I wasn’t supposed to let you sleep late.”

At this point I knew it was useless. I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. Abel drew back the curtains. The sunlight streamed in through the windows. It was morning already.

I was tired, but even still, summer mornings are never altogether unpleasant. Once I had woken up, I realized that today was another free day to fill up anyway I wanted. Except…

“Don’t forget I’m coming with you today,” Abel chirped.

I got out of bed and walked to the window. It was too early in the morning to deal with Abel. I stood there for a minute in my pajamas and welcomed the new day. Then I walked over to the closet up to get some fresh clothes.

“I’m still coming with you, right?” There was a slight desperation in Abel’s voice. He feared that if I didn’t confirmation it, it would slip away from him.

Because it was early in the morning, and because I was still cranky from sleep, I had the urge to play on Abel’s fear. In the end I would have to take him, but I could scare him first. Since my father had already left for the office, there would be no recourse left for Abel other than to beg and plead with me. And then in the end, when I finally relented and agreed to take Abel, I would feel better about it because I made him suffer first. And maybe he would even enjoy his day out more because he had to earn it.

But I suppressed this urge. I wasn’t angry at Abel. I understood that he wanted to get out of this house. I would have done the same thing if I were his age. I was upset that I was the one who had to take care of him, but that wasn’t Abel’s fault. “Yeah, you’re coming with me,” I said. “It’s still early yet. Go down and tell the cook to get some breakfast ready.” I fumbled around for some new clothes, and then went downstairs to find the water basin to wash my face with.

After breakfast, we set out. It usually took me about an hour to get into town, but with Abel’s slow, meandering walk it took double that time. I went by David’s house first, and then Simon’s. Neither of them were in. I eventually found them near the town center.

Simon was less than pleased to see Abel. “What is he doing here?” Simon demanded.

I figured the best thing to do was dodge the question. I tried to act as if Abel hanging out with us was the most natural thing in the world. “He’s coming with us today,” I answered casually.

“He can’t keep up with us,” Simon protested.

This was true in one sense, but it was also unfair in another sense, because we hadn’t even decided what we were going to do yet. For instance if we ended up just sitting down and fishing by the river, like we sometimes did, then Abel wouldn’t have to keep up anything.

I shrugged my shoulders. “What do you want me to do Simon? My Dad says I have to take him with me today.”

“It’s okay,” David put in. “We can go swimming in the river. He can do that with us.”

“I don’t want to go swimming,” Abel said in a whiny voice.

“Will you shut up?” I yelled at him. “You’ll do whatever we decide.”

But David didn’t seem to mind Abel’s finickiness. He just paused for a moment and looked off into space while he tried to think of another suggestion. “Well…OK,” he mumbled, and then seemed to strike upon a new thought. “I suppose he could stay at my house while we go swimming. My mom could watch him while we’re out. He could even help her with the cleaning.”

Abel’s voice now wailed worse than before. “I don’t want to help with the cleaning.”

“How about this then,” Simon cut in. He stopped and licked his lips before continuing. He seemed slightly hesitant, as if he knew what he was going to propose might be unpopular. And I had a feeling I was would be the one who wouldn’t like it. “David and I can go off, and you can stay here with your brother, and just meet up with us some other day.”

That bastard! I opened my mouth to yell at Simon, but as I turned to look him full in the face I saw someone coming down the street. “Hey, is that Emma?” I asked.

Simon and David turned to look. “I think it is,” David responded.

Emma was a girl in our class. She hadn’t seen us yet, but she was walking by herself and headed in our direction.

The wheels in my head began turning. Emma was a girl. And girls liked taking care of little kids, right? Perhaps this was the answer to everything.

“I’ve got an idea,” I announced to David and Simon. I turned to Abel. “How would you like to play with Emma this afternoon?”

“I don’t want to play with girls,” Abel said.

I was loosing my patience with Abel fast, but David stepped in before I could yell at him. “Emma’s not like the girls your age Abel,” he said soothingly. “She’s like an older sister for you. Didn’t you ever wonder what it was like to have an older sister?”

Abel shook his head no, but stayed quiet as he contemplated David’s words. David could be really good with Abel sometimes.

“Yeah, she can show you about dolls, and dresses…” Simon began.

“Damn it Simon, you’re not helping,” I snapped. I turned on Abel next. “You will go where I tell you to go and be quiet about it! If you blow this thing with Emma, I’ll…I’ll…I’ll leave you here all alone for the rest of the day. And then I’ll go home without you.” This seemed to frighten Abel into silence.

Emma had reached us by now. Once she saw usm she broke into a huge grin and waved her hand. She bounced over to us. “Jon, David, Simon, how are you guys doing?”

“Good,” I answered. “What are you up to Emma?”

“Me? Oh, nothing much. Just out for a walk.”

“Not doing anything at all?”

“No. Why?” She looked eagerly at me, almost as if she were expecting some sort of invitation.

“How would you like to take care of my little brother Abel for a while?”

Her face fell. “What?”

“Just for the afternoon. He’s a real cute kid. You could have all sorts of fun playing with him.”

She thought for a moment, and then her face lit up again. Maybe I had managed to say the right thing. “Sure…. If you pay me.”

“Pay you?”

“Yeah. I’m not going to baby sit for you unless you pay me.”

“But look at what a cute kid he is. Just think of all the fun you could have with him.”

“Well Jon, if he’s so much fun, why don’t you take him with you?”

“He slows us down. Besides he’d be much happier doing girl stuff with you.” Abel must still have been scared from the warning I gave him earlier, because he did not object to this.

Emma knitted her brows and thought for a moment. “Two units an hour,” she declared at last.

“I’m not going to pay you,” I said.

“Then I’m not going to take him Jon. What are you guys doing that is so important anyway?”

“Nothing,” I responded automatically.

Emma smiled triumphantly. “Well, there you go then. There’s no reason you can’t watch him yourself.”

Oh, everyone was having fun with that joke now. Emma and my father must meet at nights and plan these things out. It was a figure of speech and they both knew it. “You know what I mean,” I said irritably. “I mean we don’t have any plans yet. I didn’t mean we’re really doing nothing.”

“Really?” Emma said playfully, as if she enjoyed seeing me squirm like this. “What sort of things do you usually do?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say “nothing special”, but I checked myself. “All sorts of things.” Emma responded to this by simply raising her eyebrows. “I can’t talk about it in front of Abel,” I sputtered. “We do all sorts of dangerous things.”

Abel hopped up and down. “I want to know. Tell me. Why won’t you tell me?”

This comment sparked something in Simon. “Hey, that reminds me Jon, is it true what I’ve been hearing about you?”

Emma seized on this. “What have people been saying about you Jon?” she asked.

I looked at David. “Oh, yeah I mentioned to Simon about the other day. I hope that’s all right.” He had an apologetic look on his face, but I was not upset. I wanted my heroics to be talked about.

I turned back to Emma and Simon. “I’ve been busy,” I answered proudly. I wanted to say more, but I didn’t trust Abel with too much information. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, even if he wanted to. Sooner or later he was bound to let something slip in front of my father.

“What did you do?” Emma sounded irritated at being kept in the dark. I decided to use this as leverage.

“I can’t say in front of Abel. But I’ll tell you if you agree to watch him.”

Emma simply rolled her eyes at this offer. She turned to Simon instead. “What did he do?” she demanded.

“He stole a Police man’s hat,” Simon blurted out.

“Simon you idiot!” I took a step towards him.

David quickly inserted himself in between us. “Easy Jon,” he said, gently pushing me back.

I allowed David to stop me, but I was still furious at Simon. I couldn’t believe his nerve. Had I not made it perfectly obvious I didn’t want Abel to know? “Are you brain dead? He’s going to tell my Dad now.” I pointed to Abel with my finger.

“No I won’t. No I won’t.”

Emma laughed. She was very pleased at the ease with which she had broken our ranks. “So that’s why you want me to watch your little brother? So you can steal hats off the heads of the police?”

“We do different things everyday,” I said defensively. I was beginning to be sorry I had ever asked Emma. She had so quickly turned the situation to her own advantage.

Emma gave me a mischievous smile that made me uncomfortable. “O-kay,” she said, drawing out the word, “If you’re so brave Jon, why don’t you hit the policeman in the back of the head,” she stopped to scoop up a stone from the ground “with this stone here.” She pointed with her left hand to indicate a policeman on the far side of the street. With her right hand she tossed the stone up in the air and then caught it. “If you can do that, I’ll take care of your little brother for the afternoon while you boys go off and have your adventures.”

It was an impossible request, and I saw that as an easy out. “I can’t hit him from here.”

“Then get closer,” she said, still tossing the stone up and down.

David must have sensed I was slightly tempted, because he spoke up in a bit of a panic. “Emma, don’t be ridiculous. Why in the world would he nail a policeman in the back of the head with that stone? That policeman didn’t do anything to us.”

“I just want to test his bravery,” she said. “I want to see if it’s true.”

“He can show you the hat,” David said.

“That hat doesn’t mean anything,” Emma responded. “For all I know the policeman gave it to him.”

“Emma don’t tempt him like that, you’re going to get us all in trouble.” David was practically shouting now. Emma just looked at me. She didn’t even need to say anything. Her eyes gave the challenge.

I stepped forward. As she threw the rock up, I snatched it in mid air. I could hear David yelling. “Jon, no!”

I started walking towards the policeman. I wasn’t sure if I was going to actually throw the rock or not. I figured I would make up my mind as I was walking over there.

As I started walking, I could hear movement behind me. David was running after me, but it was Emma’s hand that sprang out and grabbed my wrist. “That’s enough Jon,” she said. “I just wanted to see if you actually had the guts to do it.” I stopped walking and dropped the rock. I could hear David draw in a deep breath. Simon’s face showed that he had been slightly worried. Even Emma seemed more at ease now that I had let the rock go. “I have to admit,” she continued, “I didn’t think you would actually do it. I’m impressed Jon.”

There was a slight pause during which I think everyone expected me to say something. Maybe give a short inspirational speech about my bravery, or something like that. But my mind was swimming and I was trying to figure out what had just happened. Was I really going to throw the rock? Did I have that in me?

Emma spoke, once she realized I wasn’t going to make a reply. “Well, fair is fair I suppose. I’ll watch your little brother for the afternoon then.” There was a slight air of defeat, or maybe just resignation in her voice. “But this is for today only,” she added quickly.

She stretched her hand out to Abel and as I looked over at Abel I noticed the new way he was looking up at me. There was a look of awe on his face. And pride I think.

This seemed like a perfect time to remind him about the importance of secrecy. If he was ever in a mood to listen to what I had to say, it was now. “Remember,” I said in my best authoritive voice. “Don’t tell Dad about anything that happened today.”

“I won’t!” he exclaimed. “Really Jon I won’t tell him anything.” He was desperate now to gain my trust and approval. I could tell he meant it, but it wasn’t his good intentions I doubted. He just couldn’t keep a secret even when he wanted to.

Emma bent down so that she was eye-level with him. “What did you say your name was?”

“Abel.” He had lost all shyness around Emma. [Add shyness earlier?] He kept his back straight and looked right into her eyes.

“Abel, how would you like to spend the afternoon with me?”

Abel gave one more look in my direction to see if this was what I really wanted. Yes, yes, for heaven’s sake go with her. I motioned with my hands for him to go with Emma. He followed my directions unquestioningly.

As Emma started to lead Abel away, she looked back at us and added, “Remember this is for today only. And next time, why don’t you invite me along on one of your adventures?” We agreed to meet again at 4 in the same place at the end of the day. And then Emma and Abel left.

And so, as easily as that, the problem of Abel was solved, and we were free to do whatever we wanted for the rest of the day. The complete freedom possibility stretched out before us.

In the end we ended up doing nothing. We argued for a while about what we wanted to do. We couldn’t decide on anything. I had a bunch of good ideas but Simon didn’t want to do any of them. Even simple things like swimming in the river he objected to in the strongest of terms. “That’s a stupid idea Jon. It’s almost fall now. It’s getting too cold to go swimming in the river. Besides, I don’t feel like getting wet today.”

And then he proposed a bunch of stupid ideas that I immediately shot down. Eventually it was lunchtime, and we were hot and cranky from arguing in the sun in the middle of the street all day. We were also very hungry, but David and Simon didn’t have any money on them to buy lunch. So we went back to David’s house where his mom made us sandwiches. Then we just ended up down in David’s room talking.

With summer vacation quickly drawing to a close, I thought it was criminal to waste a day like this. We had to be sure the same thing didn’t happen tomorrow. “What are we going to do tomorrow?” I asked.

“Tomorrow?” David paused as if mentally checking something, and then replied, “Jon, tomorrow’s Sunday. We’ll be in church all day.”

“Is it?” It was easy to lose track of the days during summer vacation, but I tried to count on my fingers the number of days since I had last been in church. Let’s see…it was Monday when we went hiking. The next day when Simon, David, and I went fishing was Tuesday. And then Wednesday and Thursday we went swimming. That means yesterday when I had stolen the hat was Friday, and tomorrow is… “Sunday,” I said aloud. The weeks just fly by. Tomorrow I had to sit through church all over again. “Damn it.”

David flinched slightly. “Jon, watch your language. You can’t swear when you’re talking about church.” Simon nodded in agreement. Of course both of them swore just as much as me, and I pointed this out. “It’s worse when you’re talking about church,” David maintained firmly.

I tried to justify my position. “I’m not mad at God or at Church. I don’t mind church by itself. I have no problem if other people go. I’m just upset that I have to go. So it doesn’t count because I wasn’t swearing at the church, I was swearing at the idea of going to church.”

“Jon, that’s the same thing as swearing at the church.” David’s voice was getting annoyed.

“Church isn’t so bad,” Simon said. “It’s only in the morning, and besides it’s a chance to see everyone.”

Typical Simon, always thinking only of himself. He didn’t even stop to think that his situation was different from mine. “You guys get to see everyone else,” I said, laying emphasis on the “you guys” part. “No one else goes to the same church as me.”

“Your church is much better than ours,” Simon said. “Our church is left over from before the Restoration. Your church is clean and brand new.”

“Were you listening to what I just said? I don’t care about the building. No one I know goes there.”

“Rosa does,” David volunteered.

“Yeah, there you go. Rosa goes to your church,” Simon said. “She’s the most beautiful girl in the whole school. I would love to be able to sit and watch her all morning.”

“You be my guest then. You stare at her all morning, and you see how friendly she is.”

“You’re just shy Jon.” Simon said.

“Well how come I never see you talking to her then,” I said.

“I’ve got my eye on someone else,” Simon said.

I waited for him to elaborate, but then I realized he intended to leave the mystery hanging. “Well, who is it?” I asked impatiently.

Simon didn’t answer, but he gave a quick look over to David, and I realized that the two of them had some sort of confidence I was not in on. Simon must have confided to David long ago which girl he liked, and I had been left out of the loop.

It’s amazing how the feeling of being left out plays on your mind. A couple minutes before, I could not have cared less who Simon liked. I wouldn’t have listened even if he told me. Now, suddenly the fact that the two of them both knew, and I didn’t, drove me crazy. “Come on Simon, just tell me who it is.” When Simon still didn’t respond, I looked appealingly at David, but I knew David well enough to know he would never betray a friend’s secret.

“Do you really want to know Jon?” Simon asked. “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else.”

“Of course I won’t,” I said irritated. That last part was such an ancient and well known piece of the school yard code that I felt Simon was patronizing me just by mentioning it.

“I like Leda.”

“Leda!” I hadn’t been expecting that. Sure, she was pretty enough, but… “Isn’t she going out with Joshua?”

“No, they’re just good friends.”

“But they’re always together.”

“That’s because they’re good friends.” Simon’s voice rose with annoyance as he repeated himself.

“Yeah, but…” But of all the girls in school, why fall for someone who was so attached to another guy, even if they were only good friends? But I wasn’t quite sure how to phrase this last part without starting a fight, so I opened my mouth, gaped like a fish for a few seconds, and then looked appealingly at David to see if David might be thinking the same thing I was. David’s face was flat and unemotional, and gave no signs of sharing my objection, so I just closed my mouth and dropped it.

But Simon could see my confusions, so he continued. “When you think about it, why in the world would she be going out with Joshua anyway? I mean he’s not good looking. He’s not strong. He’s got absolutely no athletic skills. Really there’s nothing about him at all which would attract a beautiful girl like Leda to him. They’re just good friends because they’ve been neighbors ever since they were little kids. That’s all.”

He did seem to make a good point. But enough about Simon. It was time to get the conversation back to me. “I don’t think I’d mind church quite as much if I could go to the same church as you guys,” I said. “But there is absolutely no one to talk to at my church.”

David made one last attempt to cheer me up. “Flash goes to your church, doesn’t he? That must be exciting.”

“Exciting? How do you figure that? Flash is the most boring person imaginable.”

“But at least you know him Jon. I’ve never even seen him. We’ve all heard the restorations stories about him ever since we were born, but I’ve never seen him once. And you’re good friends with him.”

“He’s my dad’s friend.” David just shrugged his shoulders as if the distinction was unimportant, so I pressed the point further. “You don’t hang out with your dad’s friends, do you? It’s the same thing.”

David mumbled some sort of acquiescence to my point, and then let the point drop.

We talked about pointless things for the rest of the afternoon. And then it was four and it was time for me to get Abel back from Emma. I had to leave at four because of the long walk home. David and Simon both had another couple hours before they had to worry about being back for dinner. Just as I was leaving, Simon and David were getting ready to go swimming in the river. Simon seemed to have forgotten his earlier objections to swimming in the river, and the two of them seemed excited to be actually doing something after we had sat around all day. I cursed Simon under my breath as I left the house.

I met up with Abel, and thanked Emma. My conscious was beginning to catch up with me, and I now felt slightly guilty about leaving her with my little brother all afternoon, but she didn’t seem to mind too much. “Oh, it was no problem really,” she said. “We had a good time together, didn’t we Abel?” Abel nodded vigorously in response to this. “Just don’t stick me babysitting every time Jon,” she added. “Next time I want to come out with you guys. What did you guys do this time anyway?”

“Um, nothing I want to talk about in front of Abel,” I answered.

She looked at me intently for a minute. “You didn’t do anything, did you?” Smart girl that Emma. When I didn’t answer, she just yelled out, “I knew it. I knew you guys weren’t going to do anything this afternoon. That’s what you get for ditching me with the little kid. You should have let me come with you. Then you would have had some fun.” She didn’t seem upset, just pleased with herself for guessing correctly.

I think I would have preferred it if Emma had been angry. Her gloating about it was almost unbearable. She was so happy when she found out we had wasted the afternoon. She began talking about all the fun things she and Abel had been doing together, but I cut her off and said that we needed to start heading back or my father was going to be furious.

This also didn’t faze her too much. She didn’t react to being interrupted, and just said, “Okay, well I’ll see you at school on Monday, right Jon?”

Ah, don’t remind me Emma. I mumbled something in reply, trying to avoid the subject of school, and then Abel and I headed home.

Abel didn’t talk much about what he and Emma had done that afternoon. Which was just as well, because I didn’t want to hear it. If Abel and Emma really did manage to have an exciting afternoon while Simon, David and I sat bickering in David’s room, then I didn’t want to know about it.

I did try and impress upon Abel the importance of keeping his mouth shut about the day’s events. “Don’t say anything to Dad about how I almost threw the rock at the policeman,” I said. “And whatever you do, don’t tell Dad about how I stole the policeman’s hat. And,” I added with a certain amount of weight, “this is very important: don’t tell Dad we left you with Emma all day.” I wanted to give special emphasis to this last point because I figured it was the one he was most likely to mess up.

Abel had a confused look on his face. “What do I say when Dad asks what I did today?”

“You can tell him about today. Just don’t tell him about any of those things I told you not to.”

“But then I won’t have anything to say.” There was something about Abel’s voice. It was almost like a perpetual whine.

He did have a point though. If he didn’t talk about the time he spent with Emma, he wouldn’t have much to talk about except going to the city and then walking back again. I decided to give in on this point. “Okay, you can tell Dad about spending the day with Emma. But don’t tell him how about the policemen or the hat. Can you do that?”

“I promise I won’t tell. You can trust me Jon, I promise.”

I was worried despite the promises, but what could I do? There was no taking the knowledge back from him. At this point he knew, and there was nothing I could do about it.

We arrived at the house. It was still light out, and my father’s carriage was not back yet. “Can I see the hat? Can I?” Abel pleaded.

We were still out in the yard at this point, but I was seized by an irrational fear that some of the servants in the house would overhear. “Not so loud!” I glanced around nervously. “You see what I mean Abel? You’re going to blow everything.”

“No I won’t.” Abel was distraught at how easily he had lost my trust.

I hesitated. On one hand, I was uneasy about taking loose-lipped Abel to the scene of the crime. On the other hand, what damage could it possibly do? He already knew everything.

“Alright, come on,” I said, putting my finger to my lips to indicate silence.

There was nothing wrong with going into the backyard, and nothing about it was inherently suspicious. Yet we still felt like criminals doing it. I took the long way around, staying behind the bushes and out of view from the house windows. Abel followed my lead.

We arrived at the shed. I grasped the door handle with a grand gesture, and perhaps a bit of showmanship. I slowly opened the door. Abel, not willing to wait for my dramatic introduction, rushed inside as soon as the door was open enough for him to slip his body through. I was annoyed that my ceremony had been disrupted, but I chose not to say anything.

With Abel jumping up and down by my side in anticipation, I removed the hat from behind the old sacks. I held it out. Abel’s mouth dropped open in awe. A ray of light suddenly shined through the window, illuminating the hat. Or at least it did in my mind. And I could have sworn I heard angels faintly singing as well.

Abel reached eagerly for the hat. I was appalled by this sacrilege and jerked the hat away. “What are you doing?” I asked angrily.

Abel immediately assumed the face of a penitent sinner. “I just wanted to see it,” he said. I looked at the hat protectively. “I won’t hurt it.” Abel’s voice was so quiet I could hardly hear it. I thought for a minute, and then handed over the hat.

Abel carefully took the hat from me, very aware of the importance of what was in his hands. “Wow,” he whispered. The hat was balanced loosely on the top of Abel’s hands, as if he were afraid he would damage it by gripping it firmly. “How did you get this?”

I shrugged. “I just took it. He took it off his head. I grabbed it. Then I outran him.”

“Tell me,” Abel pleaded.

So I told him the whole story with all the details, just like I had done for David. I might even have exaggerated a thing or two, or made it slightly more dramatic than it actually was. With each time I retold this story it was getting more and more fantastic.

Abel interrupted me frequently with questions, which I did my best to answer. When my epic tale was finally completed, Abel and I went into the house.

Our father had come home while we were out back. He greeted us in a cheerful voice when we walked through the door. “Good evening boys.” He was in a good mood. Work on Restoration Week was finally nearing completion. “Glad to see you’re still together. Abel, has Jonathon been taking good care of you the whole day?”

“No, he left me with Emma as soon as we got into town.”

I cringed. Damn it Abel! Sure, I had told him he could talk about Emma, but I was hoping he would have phrased it a little differently. This is a perfect example of why I never wanted him to have any potential harmful information. He just had no sense about how to use it.

“What? Jonathon is this true?” 　The look on my father’s face was almost more of betrayal than anger.

“No. Well I did leave him with Emma. But she really wanted to take care of him so I thought that it would be a good idea. He couldn’t have kept up with us anyway. We did a lot of running around today. And he had fun with Emma so everyone was happy.” The words spilled out of my mouth rapidly. I was trying to get all my explanations out before he cut me off.

“I did have fun with Emma,” Abel confirmed.

“Jonathon.” My father didn’t shout, but there was enough of a heaviness laid on the syllables of my name that I knew he wasn’t happy. “Jonathon I hope you didn’t take advantage of that girl.”

“What? No, I-.”

“Did you pay her any money?”

I was confused as to what would be the right answer, so I just replied with the truth. “No.”

“Well, it sounds like she did you a favor. You should give her some money the next time you see her. Her family doesn’t have a lot of money you know. I don’t want you taking advantage of her generosity.”

“But she didn’t ask for any money. She wanted to play with Abel.”

“She did you a favor Jonathon, and her family needs the money. Five units an hour sounds like a fair price to me. How long did she watch Abel for?”

“All afternoon,” Abel volunteered before I could say otherwise.

“So why don’t you give her 40 units for that. We’ll take it out of your allowance money. Does that sound fair to you?”

Well, no, not really, but what was I supposed to say. “Yes,” I said in a reluctant voice with my eyes on the floor.

“I’m doing you a favor Jonathon,” my father continued in his usual self-righteous voice. “It’s important that you learn generosity at an early age. And I want you to be sure to always treat Emma with kindness when you see her. Remember that not all families are as fortunate as ours.” I nodded automatically. “Now then, I think dinner is almost ready. Shall we sit down at the table? If you’re good tonight, I’ll read you some more about the Restoration.” This last bit was directed at Abel.

“I don’t need those stories anymore.”

“Oh you don’t?” My father raised his eyebrows.

“No. I’ve got a new hero now. Jon.”

I blushed slightly, but beneath my pride I was also nervous about where this line of conversation would lead. But Abel stopped there. The kid wasn’t doing bad after all.

My father didn’t know how to react. He was surprised, but I could tell he was not entirely unpleased. Even though he said, “I think you need to find a new hero Abel.” Abel ran in ahead to the dining room, and my father just turned around and looked at me with a curious expression.