The incessant question that nagged at him more than any other was the identity of the strangers fighting the forest. Had they left them to die? He had to take care of his family. That was not in question. That was his priority. Yet was it at the expense of someone else's life?
As a result, they decided and agreed no one would say anything to anyone about what had happened. They would take until the end of the week to adjust to the reality of it and keep it among themselves.
His mind filled with the instrumental rock guitar and arpeggiated synthesizer rhythms of The Who’s Baba O’Riley, signaling the end of the show, snapping him from the grasp of his thoughts. Raising the remote control setting under his hand on the arm of the chair, he pointed it with listless resolve at the television when the doorbell rang. The sound startled him. They weren’t expecting anyone to come over. He stared at the door, unmoving. If they kept quiet, they may just go away. He didn’t feel like being around anyone outside of his family.
Veronica walked into the room, glancing at the front door.
“You going to get that?”
Hal rubbed his forehead sighing as the doorbell rang again.
“Hal. We can’t stay in here without con…”
“I know. I know,” he said. Perturbed with clear reluctance, he opened the door just as the doorbell rang the third time.
“Can I help you?” he said, irritation lathering his tone. Before him were three people. A middle-aged man with short salt and peppered hair with a stubble beard and a mustache to match. Handsome features which increased Hal's irritation. Next to him was a young woman, jet black hair just past the shoulders, an innocent looking face with big, round, dark eyes. Behind them was a tall young man with a mustache and full beard, glasses, with short, cropped auburn hair.
“Mr. Baker?” said the older man. “Mr. Hal Baker?”
“Who’s asking?”
The man paused, fixing him with his gray eyes.
“My name is Sebastian Kane. I’m here to talk about the forest attack you and your family experienced.”
THE END
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Episode 3
Part I - Enter the Monster’s Lair
Jason Meechum sat at his front row desk, eager to learn. He loved school and was smart for his age, which meant in the eyes his peers; he was a nerd. Not in a good way. This made him somewhat of a social outcast. He had no fondness for that part of his reality. It was just the way it was. His peers would tease him, call him all kinds of cruel names which he tried to ignore but seldom could. Given a choice, there were many times he would have rather they punched him instead of being subjected to their verbal flaying. They were relentless in their ostracizing and upbraiding. Whoever said names will never hurt you was a liar. They hurt more often than not, and he couldn’t escape it.
Not everyone viewed him in that light. His teachers’ view of him was different.
“He’s a good kid,” he’d heard them say.
“I wish all of my students were like him. Save the world a ton of headache.”
Most of them were sincere in their assessment. Some of it was pure sympathy, but he was all right with that. He’d take whatever he could get. Sure. He knew he wasn’t the best dressed, most popular, or best liked. That wasn’t his focus, nor his forte. He was on the honor roll every semester and always in the top five. That kind of thing fostered resentment from the other kids, which expressed itself in name calling and practical jokes. He had to tell himself that or it would have been unbearable.
A day in the life.
He sat with his eyes plastered to the blackboard. Multiplication and fractions were fun to him, but most of the kids in class dreaded any that appeared similar to mathematics. For him, it was rather easy. He finished the assignment Ms. Tracy had written on the chalkboard before anyone else.
Twenty minutes later, school was out. A deluge of bodies poured into the corridors as young students rushed out of their classrooms. Some went straight for the school buses outside so they could reserve their favorite seats. All of them were eager to get home… except for Jason. He took his time, always one of the last if not the last to get on the bus.
Sitting in the middle of the bus, he pulled out his copy of his latest fantasy novel, A Paladin’s Burden. He checked it out from the library earlier that day. He didn’t have many books at home. In his excitement to lose himself in its pages, he failed to notice he had sat in front of Franklin Connors, the fat bully on his school bus. Franklin took special pleasure in teasing and humiliating Jason because he could. Jason wasn’t a fighter and even if he was, would get his face smashed in if he tried to do so. His coordination being somewhere between one and nil on a scale of ten, it would more than likely be from his own fist. He tolerated it, wouldn’t cry or threaten to go tell his parents. He’d just take it. The perfect human punching bag.
Frankie quickly seized the opportunity by flicking the back of his ears with his forefinger. Jason tore his eyes from his book to glare at him.
