A.E. Albert: A Writer's Blog

by A.E. Albert
     @aealbert23


The Time Sphere: Sample Chapters


Chapter 1

As Billy felt the fist make contact with his face, he thought for sure his nose was broken.  However, that thought was quickly set aside as he felt his backside slam into the hard and unyielding concrete.  His face burned with heat when he heard someone in the crowd yell, "Get him, Scott!"  It was Trish, who Billy thought was the prettiest girl in his grade.

Billy looked up into the face of his assailant, Scott Wilinski.  He was tall, blond and far too muscular to be in the eighth grade.  Scott gave Billy a crooked grin, which was in no way friendly. 

Billy thought if he used the side door he could have avoided this daily ritual.  But of course, he couldn't be that lucky. 

"You know, Townsend, if I keep rearranging your face like this, you might actually look half decent!" sneered Scott, as everyone in the crowd laughed. 

Billy's eyes flashed toward Trish.  When he saw her laughing along with everyone else, his already deep blush intensified.

He felt an arm drape around his shoulders and squeeze too hard.  Billy turned his head and looked into Scott's smiling face. 

"Ahhh, come on, guys!  Is this how we treat new students?  I personally think Billy here deserves better than this.  Right, Bill!" grinned Scott as he grabbed his face and gave it a little shake.  Billy had been attending St. Bernadette's for six months, but felt it was safer to keep that information to himself.

All of a sudden, Billy was bent over and Scott was holding him in a headlock.  He immediately tried to pull himself free, but Scott was too big and too strong. 

"Are you stuck, Billy boy?  Here's something that'll loosen you up!"

As Billy tried desperately to free himself, he felt a cool and soft substance cover the top of his head.  With a loud cry, his hand flew to the mess in his hair.   When Billy looked down at his hand, it was covered with chocolate pudding. 

"See there, Billy, don't say I don't do you any favors," laughed Scott, as he released Billy and pushed him to the ground.

As Billy attempted to stand, his attacker grabbed him forcefully by the jacket.  The fake smile was replaced with an ugly sneer.  "Listen, puke, I keep telling you to use the back doors, so no one that matters can see your loser face." 

Scott looked Billy up and down.  He abruptly released his jacket and made a disgusted face which seemed to wonder why he had touched it in the first place.  The bully then turned around and just walked away.

Billy knew that Scott was done and took the opportunity to run into the school so he could wash his hair out.  As he made his way across the school's parking lot, he could hear the kids yelling, "All right Scott, you really gave it to him!" and "That Townsend kid is such a loser!"

Billy was thankful that the school was empty.  He ran through the quiet halls to the nearest bathroom.  He threw his head under the faucet and vigorously scrubbed the gunk out of his hair.   As he dried his face, he stopped to stare into the mirror.  Loser. 

Since he started at St. Bernadette's six months ago, that had been what everyone called him.  He could just imagine his home room teacher, Mr. Kroenberg.  His eyes scanning the class, looking above his reading glasses as he completed morning attendance.  "Is loser here today?  Where's Loser?" Billy could almost laugh at the image.

Billy never did anything that would attract the attention of the Scott Wilinski's of the world.  He was 13 years old, average height and weight.  His hair was dark brown and glossy and fell in layers just above his shoulders.  He had large, deep brown eyes which were framed by long lashes.  However, Billy didn't think that this was an asset after his first grade crush told him that he looked like a girl.  His nose was straight, and he had a neat, white smile.  Billy wasn't a trend setter, but he held his own in that department by wearing the latest skater T's and jeans. 

Nor did Billy ever go out of his way to be noticed.  He never really spoke to anyone because he changed schools so often, and he'd stopped making an effort.  It seemed the more he tried to blend in with the walls, the more he was found on the school's most wanted list.  Of course, not having parents and living in a group home didn't help either. 

All of his life, Billy had either lived in a residential group home or foster care.  Until he was five years old he had lived with the Hilliard's, but they only looked after children until a certain age.  He had vague memories of butterscotch candy and something plaid.  A pleasant feeling always came over Billy when he thought of the Hilliard's. 

So he moved to another foster home.  However, Craig, his foster father, got a new job in New Zealand and off he was sent to another home for boys until a suitable foster placement could be found.  But one was never found. 

They said he needed to work on communication and emotional expression.  He had ‘anger issues' that he needed to resolve.  Yeah right, Billy thought.  They didn't want to know what he had to communicate.

As Billy walked across the school parking lot, he put his earphones in and turned on his mp3 player.  He loved to listen to Simon and Garfunkel when he was angry.  The fact that Billy wasn't into the newest fad music didn't win him any popularity contests either.  He thought that Paul Simon was the greatest poet since…Well better than any poet he was forced to read in class.  He had heard someone say that once, but he knew it was true. 

The day was an especially beautiful Louisiana day.  It was May, and the sun was brightly shining.  The humidity was characteristic for New Orleans, but the light breeze convinced Billy to explore the French Quarter that day. 

He thoroughly enjoyed the spooky and unique shops, which he would visit almost daily.  He would walk aimlessly down Rampart St and then up Esplanade Ave., admiring the French and Spanish style architecture.  Billy's favorites were the Creole townhouses, impressed by their large courtyards and intricately wrought iron balconies. 

He would spend hours in Jackson Square, wandering through the flea markets and antique shops.  Billy even knew some of the local street musicians and artisans, always waving a hello as he sauntered by.  He would admire the beautifully built museums and artfully manicured gardens. 

Billy loved living in New Orleans.  One of the local street musicians once told him that it had been different before Hurricane Katrina, the storm that had broken the levees and allowed 80% of this beautiful and historic city to be buried under sea water.  

Billy just couldn't imagine it any better than it already was.  He would regularly walk down the cobbled streets, lifting his head to smell the grilled shrimp and boiling crawfish.  Whenever he had a little bit of extra money, Billy would buy a beignet, a square shaped fried pastry he loved.  He would continue his daily exploration, eating his tasty treat and catching a familiar jazzy sound floating out of a nearby open doorway. 

Another pastime of Billy’s was following the city tours around the Quarter.  He would quietly lurk at the very back of the crowd, listening to age old stories about ghosts, ghouls and all sorts of strange happenings.

But Billy's favorite sites to explore in this city of grand eccentricities were the old and misty graveyards of New Orleans.  He loved their towering stone statues silently guarding the elaborately carved crypts.  However, Saint Louis Cemetery was his absolute favorite place in all of the city to visit, explore or just think. 

Billy would even sit and chat with Mr. Caleb Winterbourne on many of these occasions.  Mind you, Caleb was 146 years old and dead, but he loved his massive grave stone and the frightening skulls carved around its edges.  He would imagine that Caleb had been a pirate and was hung for treason. 

That's what was so great about New Orleans.  It was so different from any other place he had heard of or been to.  It was so weird and bizarre.  Kind of like him.  This was probably why he loved this town as soon as he stepped onto Bourbon Street.  This place was one of the few things in his life that he could relate to.

The other was books.  Billy had developed a vivid imagination through books and, unfortunately, because of his difficulties keeping friends.  It was his defense mechanism against the world.  His mind was the one place where no one could hurt him, bully him or leave him.

But as hard as he tried, Billy couldn’t imagine living in a group home away.  Living in one was one thing; it was everything else that came with it.  The scenario in the school parking lot was only one of many unpleasant occurrences that seemed to follow Billy everywhere he moved.  Once people found out where he lived, he was treated differently and usually not for the better.

Billy just didn't understand why everyone seemed to think that group homes were small jails specially created for the reformation of young children.  What exactly are they being punished for?  Oh ya, it was a criminal offence to not have parents, he thought, which was in his case. 

Billy’s thoughts drifted to the kids he currently lived with or met through the years.  Some didn't have parents, while others were taken away because their parents didn't know how to be parents.  Sometimes he met kids that were so badly abused or traumatized, they would start screaming over the smallest issue and even become violent. 

Billy wasn't at all aggressive himself, but he understood the heartache of not having your own family.  People just didn't understand that residential homes existed to take care of kids, keep them safe, not penalize them. 

Of course, that didn't mean Billy didn't have concerns about living in a group home.  Sometimes he felt that that the staff in the house didn't truly understand what he was feeling.  They just didn't understand what it was like to not have a family or feel that no one in the world truly loved you.

In the midst of these thoughts, Billy felt a sharp pain in the back of his head.  He turned around in time to hear a high pitch giggle. 

Jeanie. 

Great! he thought.  No one in this school wants to talk to him, but he can't get rid of the ‘mouth machine'.  That was what everyone called Jeanie due to the fact her favorite pastime was talking. 

It was not as though she was disliked.  Actually, Jeanie was quite popular.  She possessed this flippant and confident air about her that defied anyone from commenting on why she was sometimes seen tagging after the likes of Billy Townsend.  

But Billy just couldn't get used to her excessive attention and felt it was safe to act perpetually annoyed in her presence.  He couldn't risk feeling hurt when she finally got wise and left him alone. 

The top of Jeanie's head reached Billy's nose.  She had a slim boyish figure, with wild and curly red hair and a sprinkling of freckles across her petite nose.  Jeanie had an ever present smile that made her midnight blue eyes shine with mischievous merriment.  She wore her hair down, flowing behind her.  She was dressed casually in a T-shirt and shorts.

Billy bent down and picked up an orange that was dented on the one side.

"Since I didn't eat it at lunch, I couldn't very well waste it, now could I?" laughed Jeanie, as she fell into step with Billy on the sidewalk.

"For future reference, my hearing is fine and you can yell my name next time," replied Billy, trying to act his usual irritated self in her company.

Jeanie tilted her face into the breeze and laughed. "Well, I can't be usual and boring, now can I?  So what was that back there, anyway?  You need to teach Scott a bloody lesson!"

"Ya, sure, if I want to get grounded for a week," mumbled Billy, as he kicked a crumpled can with his foot.

"Oh, come on, Billy, a week's grounding’s worth it to bring that jerk down a peg or two!"  This was something about Jeanie that Billy had always liked.  She had the ability not be drawn into the mob mentality that was an epidemic in most schools.

"If I keep ignoring him, eventually, he'll leave me alone.  It's human psychology." Billy emphasized this by tapping his head.  "Besides, I'm used to it."

"Nobody should have to get used to that!" sputtered Jeanie in a rage.  "Listen, tomorrow, I'll hold him and you can give him a wedgie and a bloody nose!" She said this so solemnly Billy thought she was serious for a moment and his expression must have told her so.

"Geez, Billy, I just wanted to make you laugh.  I know picking a fight would only make this whole business worse," Jeanie said, while looking at her feet and avoiding Billy's gaze. 

"Besides, Scott's just jealous that you get better grades and are cuter than he is."

Billy turned to look at her and saw a becoming blush spread across her cheeks.  He quickly turned away, feeling his own face darken. 

"Ya, well, I doubt that, since Scott's the captain of the basketball team and his girlfriend is the prettiest girl in school."  Jeanie turned to look at Billy then back again so quickly, he thought he might have imagined it. 

"Well, some girls think you're cute, not that I do," she stated hastily.  "You think Trish is the prettiest girl in school?" Jeanie's switch in topics made Billy a little dizzy.

 "Ya, a lot of guys do," Billy replied, feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Oh," was all that Jeanie could think to say. 

They continued to walk in silence for a few moments, both keeping a steady pace and their thoughts to themselves.  Billy sometimes got the impression that Jeanie liked him more than a friend. It was better to dream about girls like Trish, who were safe and distant.  Jeanie, on the other hand, was dangerous.  If you let people in, they hurt you.  This was Billy's life's creed up to that point.

"Um, I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place tonight?  You know, study for Foster's history test?"

Ugh, the history test!  Billy had completely forgotten about it and it was in three days.  It didn't help much that history was his worst subject.  Billy hated pondering his own past.  Why would he want to ponder somebody else's? 

"Sorry, I kind of have a kind of, um, kind of like a meeting at home tonight."

Billy was referring to his house's resident meeting.  It was a mandatory occurrence once a week and unfortunately, unavoidable.

"A meeting!  Why would your family have a meeting?  Are you guys going to discuss the stock market or something?" teased Jeanie. 

Billy knew that she was just playing around and hadn't meant to be hurtful, but he couldn't help but use the situation to his advantage.  He stopped dead in his tracks on the sidewalk and turned his whole body to face her. 

"Listen, Jeanie, you're nice and I kinda appreciate the whole stray dog thing, but I'm not a dog.  Sooner or later, I'll move from here to a different place.  Ya, I don't live in a normal house, I'm sure you've heard.  I live with other kids, who yell and scream all the time.  The adults, they're not my parents.  Their job is to try and fix me.  Get it?  I obviously have some kind of malfunction.  So my point is, I don't think this whole friend thing is going to work out and I don't need friends who feel sorry for me." 

Billy didn't usually make such long speeches and felt somewhat winded when he was done.  However, he stopped breathing again when he saw the look on Jeanie's face.  Her ever ready smiled faded until her mouth formed a small ‘o' and her blue eyes took on a wounded cast.  She then simply turned around and walked away.

Billy had never felt so wretched in his life.  Great! he thought. You want human psychology, here's human psychology.  When you're down, bring everyone else down with you!

Billy continued to walk home, deciding not to make his daily jaunt to the Quarter.   He didn't notice, as he usually did, the various bird calls or fragrant smells that were associated with New Orleans.  He kept on his way at a slow and thoughtful pace.  Jeanie didn't deserve that, he thought.  But it was for the best.  Ya, he kept telling himself that all the way home.

Chapter 2 

“Oh, hey Billy, I thought you would’ve gone down to the Quarter after school today?”  Sandy casually inquired, as Billy made his way through the front door.

“I didn’t really feel like it.  Um, I’m going to go upstairs and study, ok,” he said, as he was already starting to jog up the stairwell. 

“Ya, no, it’s resident meeting time soon, darlin’, as you well know.  I need your help anyway, so come on back down here, please.”  Sandy had a way of giving complete and utter demands, all the while using a sweet as pie voice. 

“The other boys aren’t home from school yet, so hurry up and help me make dinner.  Ham, scalloped potatoes and corn!” Sandy made this last statement sound like it was a commercial jingle.

“I like eating it, not making it,” grumbled Billy, as he began to peel potatoes.

Suddenly, the front door slammed, and the house vibrated with, “The man has arrived!”  Joe moseyed into the kitchen holding a white plastic bag containing one black forest ham and handed it over to a delighted Sandy.

Sandy smiled at Joe.  “Thank you very much, sir,” she said as she took their dinner out of the grocery bag.  Joe held out his hand, accompanied with a toothsome smile.  “Sorry, I don’t tip poor service.  If you wanted a tip, you should’ve brought it to me cooked,” she said tartly, while Joe responded with his usual belly laugh.

Sandy and Joe both worked in the group home where Billy lived, and both were in their early thirties.  Sandy was married with two kids of her own.  She had long straight brown hair that grazed her shoulders and was on the short side.  She was very serious about her job but was also warm and caring, which was evident when you looked into her warm brown eyes,

Now, Joe, on the other hand, would say that he’d never even heard of marriage.  He was tall, muscular and very determined to never say a serious thing in his life.  His hair was always shaved clean off, and he thought it was pretty funny to keep some of the kids guessing what color it was.  He had one boy in the house utterly convinced that he had shocking red hair.  Everyone else thought this is pretty funny, considering Joe’s dark skin tone and the black hair on his arms. 

Joe had the most amazing store of knowledge pertaining to sports.  Name the sport, player and even the era and the guy knew everything about it.  He would try to throw the football around with Billy, but Billy wasn’t interested.  Of course, that didn’t stop Joe from attempting this regularly.

“Hey, Billy, what you say you and me throw the ball around the backyard?” asked Joe, as he threw a football in the air. 

Before Billy could give his usual response, Sandy cut in.  “I don’t think so, Joe.  Billy’s helping me with dinner so we can get the weekly event done before Christmas.” 

Billy smiled at Sandy’s response.  Resident’s meeting wasn’t exactly a favorite pastime in the house, and the complaining made it last forever.  If everyone was quiet and just got it over and done with, the evening could progress as usual.  However, that was usually not the case.

Billy had just finished peeling and cutting up the potatoes, when a herd of buffalo entered the house.  These animals were much smaller and hairless, but they made just as much noise.

“Stop punching me, Robbie!  Sandy!  Robbie won’t stop punching me.  Ow!” yelled Toby from the front hall.

 “Hey, I’m just prepping you for your birthday next week.  See how considerate I am Tobe.”  This was the usual sarcastic statement made by the resident tough guy, Robbie.

 “Enough! Both of you!  You’ve both just walked through the door, and it starts.  Robbie, apologize to Toby now!  No, don’t even try that birthday jazz with me!”  Sandy stood before the two boys, her arms crossed in front of her chest, awaiting Robbie’s response.

Robbie turned to Toby with downcast eyes and in a very sorry and contrite voice said, “Tobe, I’m sorry.  Sorry, that you’re such a wuss!” He then ran into the kitchen to grab a fruit for snack, laughing hysterically the whole way.  Fruit was all anyone was allowed to eat in between meals and it got to be really boring.  But of course, the house had to follow the four food groups. 

Sandy merely sighed and ruffled Toby’s hair.  “He’s just playing around.  Deep down he’s sorry,” she said, as she looked down on Toby’s blond curly head.  Toby leaned in to give Sandy a hug as he sniffed his nose. 

“Why don’t you get a snack from the kitchen?” she suggested.  She then hastily added to the whole group, “You boys need to get your homework done pronto.  You all know what’s on the agenda tonight.”  Sandy didn’t expect an answer to this weekly reminder, but she wasn’t surprised to hear the collective groans.

Billy finished washing his hands and went into the front hall to get his school bag. 

“Billy, did you see Aaron on the way home from school today?  He’s not home yet.   I wonder where he is?” asked Sandy, as she picked up the boys’ coats after they threw them onto the floor.

“No, I rushed home after school.  Anyway, he probably went to the school library.”

Billy found it difficult to look Sandy in the eye as he said this and pretended to pick the lint off of his T-shirt.  He knew that Aaron was taking a detour on the way home from school that included the banks of the Mississippi. 

As Billy stood at the front door, it suddenly swung open, hitting him in the back.  “Oh, sorry there, Billy,” said a breathless Aaron, as he began tearing through his bag and from the look on his face, very excited.

He finally found what he was looking for and thrust the mysterious item into the air. “I found one!  I found one!” he yelled to anyone who would listen.  Nobody seemed very interested, only because these outbursts were quite common for Aaron.  “I knew that it was only a matter of time!  Sandy, I finally found a gold coin by the river!  I knew that if kept looking I would find treasure.  I’m going to be rich, I tell you!”  He was convinced that pirates had buried treasure along the river and went on daily excursions in order to prove his theory. 

Aaron ran to Sandy thrusting a dirty and scarred coin into her hand.  She carefully inspected it, narrowed her eyes and then smiled down at the excited boy.  “Well, Aaron, see what happens when you don’t’ give up trying.  You should put this in a good hiding spot in your room,” she said, as she winked at him.  “But no more adventures by the river!” she called out after him as he ran up the stairs, rushing to hide his new found treasure,

Billy knew that Aaron hadn’t really found a gold coin.  But Sandy believed that dreams were important, and she would encourage the boy the best she could.  Billy wondered if humoring Aaron was beneficial in the long run.  But then again, dreams were all any of them really had.  Billy picked up his school bag and headed to his bedroom to start his homework.

Chapter 3 

 “Robbie!  Come on!”

After dinner and evening chores, Billy went upstairs to use the bathroom before residents meeting.  He could hear yelling coming from the upstairs hall, which was not necessarily unusual for the house on Pine St.  He stopped at the top of the stairs when he saw Aaron sitting on the floor beside the bathroom door.

“Come on, Robbie!  I have to go!”  This was definitely a pitfall of having only one bathroom.  Everyone had to share it with Robbie.

“Oooohhh, I think the ham was bad!” Billy could hear him moan.  Of course, Billy didn’t believe that for a second.

“I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes!” Aaron yelled as he banged on the door.

“Really?  I’m sooo sorry, Aaron.  Please say good things about me if I die.  Oooohhh,” Robbie continued to groan.  Billy could hear sounds coming from the other side of the door that he didn't need to hear in the whole of his life.  Ever.

Aaron’s face was a mask of horror.  “You’re disgusting, you know that,” he accused in a deadpan voice.

Suddenly, the door jerked open.  “Ahh, I feel so much better.  Take a whiff, buddy!  Now that’s what I call good digestion!”

Aaron stood up and shook his head.  “You have the manners of a horse!”

“Wait!  I've got an idea!  This is a great opportunity for scientific advancement!  How long can a human live in a confined space with toxic waste?”

Suddenly, Robbie grabbed Aaron by the scruff of his neck and threw him into the bathroom and held the door closed.  Aaron immediately began banging on the door and yelling for Joe and Sandy. 

Robbie turned to Billy, “If you even think about yelling downstairs, you’ll be next!” he threatened.

“Billy, please help me!” begged Aaron from the other side of the door.  Billy felt bad, but he knew there was no getting through Robbie.

“Hey, now don’t say I never think of you, Aaron!” Robbie laughed.

Billy knew there was going to be trouble when he heard loud footsteps coming up the stairs.  Joe stood in the hall with his hands on his hips and demanded, “What’s going on?”

“Joe?   Robbie won’t let me out of the bathroom!  And he dropped a nuclear bomb in here!”  For a second there, Billy thought Aaron was going to cry.

Joe didn’t say anything for a long minute.  He just wore an expression that said, ‘Must I actually deal with this?’  “Robbie, go to your room until I call you down for the meeting, please,” he commanded calmly.

As Robbie sauntered to his room, he turned around and announced, “Ahhh, I gotta tell ya, some things are just worth it.”   He pointed at Aaron and smiled, “And you, Aaron?  Oh ya!”  He gave a quick wink and ran into his room, hitting the trim above his door as he went in. 

Classic group home! thought Billy, as he turned around and went into his room to finish his homework.  He suddenly didn't need to use the bathroom anymore.

Later that evening, Billy sat in the living room waiting for the house residents meeting to begin.  He looked around the house that had been his home for the past six months. 

It was a neat and tidy two story home, with one bathroom and four bedrooms.  The living room furniture was clean, but observing from the scratches on the tables and the faded upholstery, they had seen better days.  The carpet was a dull green, but when Billy moved the couch to vacuum, he could see that it had once been a vibrant and rich color.  It was plain to see the effort put in by the staff to make the house as comfortable and homey as possible, but they could only do so much with the funds allotted them.

The house always smelled like apples and cinnamon from the fragrant candles that Sandy displayed in the living room and kitchen.  The scent of homemade meals wafted through the lower rooms at around 4pm, announcing that dinner would be ready soon. 

The truth was; Billy had been in many homes like this one throughout his short existence, and he concluded that overall he liked the place.  He smiled to himself as he watched Sandy wipe down the old wooden kitchen set, which looked as though it had been in use for one too many decades. 

The house was situated in ward 14, Gert Town, one of the many districts of New Orleans.  Pine St. was lined with many homes and included many commercial and industrial plants.  It was at one time a manufacturing district, but since the destruction that Hurricane Katrina wrought, this district had all but closed down.  Billy didn’t feel that the district was very lively or exciting.  However, that didn’t matter since the French Quarter was close by and the banks of the Mississippi were due south.

Although Billy had fought them, thoughts continued to find their way into his mind.  Thoughts of how he had treated Jeanie that afternoon. 

He kept telling himself that he had done her a favor.  Eventually, he would leave this house and who knows where he would move to next.  What was the point of starting a friendship that can’t last?  Billy’s head flopped against the back of the couch and he made a soft groan.  Ya, you act like she wants to marry you or something, Billy thought to himself. 

Billy would rather not have any ties, even a small one, which he would have to eventually give up.  Besides, Billy thought to himself, she’ll get over it.  Jeanie had lots of friends.  Why should she care if he didn't want to be one of them?

As he completed this thought, all three of his housemates came running into the living room. 

“Hey, Billy, heard Wilinski gave you a work over today,” said Robbie, as he dropped himself onto the couch while holding his football. 

“What’s this?” called Sandy from the kitchen.  “What are you boys talking about?  Who gave who what?” 

Billy glared at Robbie, then yelled, “One of the kids at school today was just being a toad, that’s all.  No worries!”

“I think me and you should tag team that jerk,” uttered Robbie in a low voice, as he pounded his fist into his other hand.  Robbie turned his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Hey, Sandy?” he called, “Can I make an ice cream for everybody?” 

Sandy poked her head out of the doorway.  “Really?” she asked, genuinely perplexed as to why he would want to do so.

At seeing her face, Robbie’s expression took on a wounded cast.  He put his hand on his heart and tilted his head to the side and said, “Sandy, come on, I’m that kinda of guy.”  He smiled as he walked into the kitchen.

Billy appreciated Robbie’s quick departure.  He didn't really feel like discussing today’s events with him, especially him.  However, although Billy tended to take the brunt of Scott Wilinski’s bullying, that didn't mean that he didn't give some of that attention to the rest of the boys on Pine St.  Scott didn't pick on Robbie as much due to his tough exterior.  But the boys were definitely not accepted by the majority of the school population.  Even little Toby, who attended the nearby elementary school was teased for his lack of parental units and where he lived. 

Billy focused his attention solely on his housemates.  Toby, sweet little Toby.  He may be only nine years old, but he was still afraid of the dark.  He sucked his thumb and carried a small baby blanket around the house with him.  Sandy once discovered that he had shoved the blanket down his coat, attempting to bring it with him when they were about to go on a short trip to the supermarket.

He was short for his age.  He had blond curly hair and big, bright blue eyes.  It was little Toby who would always offer someone a hug when they were sad or give away his last cookie.  He would ask Robbie to go for a bike ride, even if Robbie had just given him a noogie only a moment before. 

He was a good kid, Billy thought.  Pine St. was Toby’s first group home.  He was put into Children’s Services after an old neighbor found out that his mother was working nights and left Toby home alone.  He spent every Saturday with his mother, playing at a nearby park or going out for ice cream.  Billy thought she was a nice lady.  It was unfortunate that lack of money kept her and Toby from being together as a family.

Now Robbie was a horse of a different color.  If you fell down the stairs or stubbed your toe, he was the first to start laughing and call you a bonehead.  He had a quick temper and a sarcastic wit that could make someone cry. 

Robbie had been in many group homes.  His mom had a boyfriend that used to hit her and even after being warned by Children’s Services, she wouldn't ask him to move out.  So it was thought that it was in seven year old Robbie’s best interests that he not live with her anymore.  He hadn't seen her since. 

Billy felt that he understood why Robbie acted the way he did.  However, Robbie was twelve years old and he would yell and bang on walls like a little kid when he was angry.  He was tall, had a strong physique and dark coloring, which made him look older than his actual age.  Billy truly tried to sympathize and like him anyway.  Only, Robbie made this a very difficult feat at times.

Billy turned his gaze to Aaron.  He felt that Aaron was the most difficult to understand.  He was also twelve years old, but short in height and reed thin.  Aaron had a quick smile and found joy in almost anything, especially when he was learning or discovering something new.

He lived at the local library and always had his nose in a book.  Once, Billy had even seen Aaron reading while walking down the street.  Billy asked him how he managed this and Aaron’s response was; “All things can be mastered.”  Billy really didn't understand what that remark meant; he just shook his head and laughed to himself.  Aaron was always talking about some new fact he learned, from the origin of the cosmos to when paperclips were invented. 

Aaron had been living in group homes since he was five years old.  He was taken into the care of Children’s Services when his school had reported bruises on him.  After a formal investigation, it was discovered that Aaron was being physically abused by his father. 

There had been a few times when Billy used the bathroom in the middle of the night and he would hear crying coming from Aaron’s room.  But the next day, Billy would witness him pouring milk into his Cheerio’s and talking nonstop about the Theory of Relativity.  Actually, his light brown hair was wild and crazy just like Albert Einstein’s.  Billy had always been somewhat suspicious that this was done on purpose; of course, Aaron maintained that it was carefully cultivated bed head. 

That’s was what amazed Billy.  He’d met many abused kids through the years, but Aaron’s control and optimism made him feel a little jealous.  Billy was more than a little ashamed of this.  He didn't have the same past or experience and hurt that Aaron did, yet he felt that Aaron held it together better.  Ya, he heard him cry sometimes, but who doesn't cry sometimes?

Billy had to quickly re-focus since he hadn't been paying attention to the meeting at all.

“Robbie, hurry up.  You’re missing the meeting!” Sandy called into the kitchen.

Billy looked up in surprise as Robbie came out of the kitchen holding three ice cream cones in his hand.  “Don’t worry, Sandy, only one scoop.  I know how you like to stretch the rations.”  He even smiled at the boys as he handed out the treats.

Billy took the ice cream out of his hand and just looked at it.  Quite frankly, Robbie never did anything nice for anyone.  However, when Billy looked up again, everything made sense at once. 

Slowly walking into the living room was none other than Robbie.  He was walking as though he were on a tightrope and gripping an ice cream with literally half the carton precariously balanced on his small cone.

Sandy just stared at him and pursed her lips.  “Really, Robbie?” she asked, as he slowly sat down on the couch.  “I believe I said one scoop.”

“Actually, this technically is one portion of ice cream.  I just used a knife to acquire it and not the traditional ice cream scoop,” he grinned as he attempted to eat his monstrosity of an ice cream cone.  That was when all of the boys began laughing hysterically.

Sandy gave that look that said to be silent and replied, “That is a blatant abuse of the rules around here.”

“A loop hole, my dear Sandy, a loop hole.  Courts of law use them every day. 

“Ya, just remember who’s the judge around here, kid,” she replied with a shake of her head as she began leafing through the meeting’s minutes book.

“You should be a lawyer when you grow up, Robbie,” Joe laughed, only to receive a stern look from Sandy.

“And just so you know, as a responsible citizen, I put the carton in the recycling bin.”  Robbie gave Sandy a smile that could rival a car salesmen’s and he once again began eating his melting ice cream.

“Let’s just start, please,” she replied in an exasperated voice.  But even she couldn't help but look at Robbie, smile and shake her head.

“All right, boys, who wants to complain first about the pee on the toilet seats,” laughed Joe, as he attempted to twirl a football on his finger. 

This made all of the boys of Pine St. laugh.  Especially since this had been a complaint of every boy in the room, and all of them had done the deed themselves at some point.

“Actually, I would like to request two ply toilet paper and not the one ply variety,” stated Robbie in a very snobbish tone, causing Billy to roll his eyes to the ceiling.

“Ya, Robbie, that’s a great idea, so you can clog the toilet twice as bad,” grinned Joe, as he tossed the football to him.

“Joe, you’re sooo funny,” Robbie answered sarcastically.

“OK, since everyone is taking this meeting so seriously.  How about you, Aaron, Billy?  Any input on the running of the house?” asked Sandy, as she attempted to bring the boys into the conversation and steer it away from where it was going.

“No suggestions here, Sandy.  The house is tip top as usual,” replied Aaron.  He even saluted her afterward and then resumed reading Plato’s The Republic.

Sandy sighed, shook her head and returned her attention to Billy.  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  Billy hated being the center of attention, probably due to the fact that when he was, it was usually a bad thing.  “Um, no guys, it’s all good,” he said, as he quickly averted his eyes, hoping that would take the heat off him. 

Sandy opened her mouth to say something to Billy, when someone spoke up.  “I’d like to have some friends.”  This statement came from Toby who was sitting on Sandy’s lap at the end of the couch. 

“Honey, we’re talking about things that can be improved in the house,” Sandy replied.

“But you said that house meetings are so we can improve stuff and I’d like to have more friends.  I think that would improve things a lot,” stated Toby, as he lifted his chin high to demonstrate how strongly he felt about this.

“Tobe, you know that you can invite friends from school to the house anytime you want,” she said, using that sweet tone when she was trying to reason with him.  “What about Ryan?  You told me that you and him play together all the time.  Why don’t you invite him over for dinner this week?”

Toby’s eye grew wide, filled with tears and his lips began to quiver.  “He can’t come over,” he replied in a low voice.  “I asked him to and he said that he’s not allowed to play in a group home.  He said his mom doesn't want him to get lice.”  At this last statement, Toby began to cry in earnest.  “He said that he’s not really supposed to play with me, even at school, but he does it anyway,” choked Toby, who was having difficulty talking at this point due to his wracking sobs.

Nobody could say anything.  What was there to say?  This was an old story and had happened to all of them at least once.  People just don’t get it.  They think that living in a group home means that the residents are sub-standard kids who are the cause of lice epidemics in schools and may even corrupt your children.  Even Robbie didn't tease Toby about this, probably because it happened to him too.

Billy looked up at Sandy and could see that her lips were pursed white.  This meant that she was calmly waiting until she regained her temper.  Finally, she took a deep breath and smiled down at Toby.  “Well Tobe, I know how you feel,” she said, as he looked at her with wide eyes.  “You may not believe this, but I once had a friend who had to stop playing with me because my dad worked in the factories, and her dad was a fancy lawyer in the garden district.”  Sandy lowered her head and stated mischievously, “Her mother didn't think I was a good influence.  So I ran home crying and told my mother and you know what she said?  She said, ‘Sandy, my darlin’, you’re going to have many friends in this life, but that little girl isn’t going to be one of them.  It’s not about how many friends you have, anyway.  If you have one true friend in this life, then you’re a lucky girl.”   

“So, Toby, if this boy still wants to play with you, I think that says something about him, don’t you think?  And I think his mom will come around, you need to have faith and believe that what’s right will overcome all obstacles.”  She kissed Toby on the forehead, causing him to giggle and put a little blush in his cheeks.

That was Sandy.  She may have been the strict one, but she always had a story or some kind of motherly advice to give when one of them was feeling sad or angry.  Even Robbie was not impervious to her caring and nurturing ways.  Billy sometimes wondered how true her stories were, but he knew that this one was.  There was a glimmer of hurt even after all of these years in her eyes.  Ya, that’s what made Sandy real, in some small way she knew how the kids felt.

Resident’s meeting was finally done and after saying goodnight to everyone, Billy went upstairs to settle for bed.  He wasn't really an early sleeper; he just enjoyed the peace and solitude of being alone in his room. 

The meeting really got Billy thinking.  Toby was the baby; Aaron the brainiac and Robbie the tough guy.  Where did he fit in? What was his title, his role to play? 

Quite frankly, Billy thought that he was a little boring.  There was really nothing he was good at and made him stand out.  He was way too quiet, which usually meant that he was an easy target for others. 

Billy lay on his bed and looked out of his window into the night sky.  He didn't know why, but he had always had this nagging feeling that he was meant to do something.  Then he would berate himself because he knew he wasn’t that special and to stop thinking such ridiculous thoughts. 

That night was no different than any other.  The stars twinkled the way they do every night.  He could hear Sandy reading a story to Toby.  Robbie was throwing a ball against his bedroom wall.  Nothing ever changes, Billy thought.  Get with the program, kid, and just accept the way things are and you’ll be way happier.  These were Billy’s last thoughts as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 4 

The next morning was a bright and sunny day, perfect for exploring the French Quarter.  Billy ran downstairs and was immediately struck with the pleasant aroma of pancakes and sausages.  Every Saturday morning, Sandy made the house a big breakfast and he always looked forward to this weekend ritual.

“Good morning, Sweetheart!’” drawled Sandy, as she flipped one of her famous buttermilk pancakes.  Billy smiled as she wiped her hands on her apron, but was unaware of the flour all over her face.

“Hey, Sandy, breakfast smells great.  Um, are you cool if I head out after breakfast and wander around the Quarter?” asked Billy, as he stuck a sausage in his mouth.

“Not at all, but make sure your room is clean and vacuum the carpets before you go.” Saturday morning always meant a great breakfast, but it also meant weekly chores.

As Billy dragged the vacuum into the living room, he stopped in his tracks.  Toby was sitting on the floor and what seemed to be half a bag of marshmallows stuffed into his tiny mouth.  He eagerly waved to Billy, who had to stop himself from laughing because the kid had white goop smeared all over his face and saliva dripping down his chin and onto the carpet.

“Toby, what are you doing?” Billy asked with laughter in his voice.

“Arugh rugh,” Toby grunted.

Just then Robbie came into the living room and he pulled a marshmallow out of the bag.   “Ok, Tobe, I know you can do one more,” Robbie said, as Toby clapped his hands and his eyes danced with glee. 

As Robbie pushed the last marshmallow into Toby’s overflowing mouth, a shout came from behind.  “What are you doing?  He could choke, Robbie!  Toby spit those out now!” Sandy commanded. 

Toby looked at Robbie, then Sandy and he shook his head.  “Now, Toby!” Sandy stated in a tone that meant time in his room if he didn't relent.  Finally, he spit the gunk all over the table.

“Ahhh, come on, Sandy!  We’re on the verge of breaking a world record, aren't we, Tobe!”

Sandy stared down at Robbie, “Clean that up, sir,” she stated in a clipped tone.  “And you, young man.  Put your coat on, Joe’s taking you to the store,” she said to Toby, as she walked back into the kitchen, her face a slight shade of red.

“That was awesome, buddy,” Robbie laughed, as he gave Toby a high-five.

Billy could hear Sandy say something to Joe in the kitchen and they both suddenly burst out laughing.  He couldn't help but smile.  The truth was, that was Robbie actually trying to be a nice guy. 

Later, as Billy was finishing his breakfast, Joe and Toby walked through the front door holding a bag of groceries.

“My thanks, gentlemen,” called Sandy from the kitchen.  “Joe do you mind putting the fruit in the fridge.  Oh, and Toby, get ready, your mom will be here soon.” At this announcement, Toby jumped for joy and ran upstairs to get ready for the focal point of his week.

Finally, Aaron decided to grace everyone with his presence.  As he plunked himself down, Billy stared at him in amazement.  The boy was sitting groggily at the kitchen table, his hair the usual mess and he was wearing what appeared to be clothes six sizes too small.

Joe walked into the room, stopped to stare at Aaron and began laughing so hard he had to lean against the wall to support himself.  “Oh my God, I love my job!  Sandy!  You need to see this!”

Sandy walked into the room while wiping her hands on a towel.  At seeing Aaron, she just rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.  “Seriously, Aaron, how does this happen?”

“What?” he said sleepily, as he looked down at himself.  He didn't seem to notice that his shirt sleeves only covered his arms at the elbow and his pants just below the knee.

“Where did you get those clothes?” Sandy demanded.

“From the basket in the hall, you didn't finish my laundry.”

“Actually, I did, they’re in your dresser.  Those,” she said, as she gestured up and down, “are Toby’s clothes.”  At that, everyone began to laugh, even Sandy.  Billy knew that Aaron was definitely thin for his age, but this was ridiculous.

Aaron’s expression of confusion changed to one of understanding.  “So that’s why my underwear was too tight.  I was wondering why I had a perma-wedgie.”  Aaron smiled as if all was right in the world, pushed up his glasses and began piling pancakes onto his plate. 

Billy shook his head and laughed.  He definitely had to mentally bookmark that as a group home moment.

A few minutes later, Robbie came waltzing into the kitchen, slumped into a chair and proceeded to place three sausages in his mouth at once. 

“Robbie, I’m not in the mood to do the Hymelic maneuver today,” stated Joe darkly, as he dug into his own plate of breakfast.

“Yeah, leave some for everybody else, please and thank you,” added Aaron primly, watching with disgust as Robbie slowly attempted to chew his food. 

Robbie responded by opening his mouth and grinning so that Aaron got a glimpse of his food in the pre-digestive state.  He made sure to do it when Joe wasn't looking, but of course, Sandy caught him. 

“Excuse me!  You can now wait until everyone else is done eating before you finish your own, mister.  Go start cleaning your room, thank you very much!  I’ll call you down when we’re done!” 

At this command, Robbie grabbed a fruit from the fruit bowl.  He then stomped up the stairs using only his heels so that everyone would know exactly how he felt about Sandy’s request. 

“Thanks a lot Indiana Jones wannabe!  Too bad you’re boring and you suck!” ranted Robbie, as he made his way to his bedroom.

Billy looked at Aaron through the corner of his eye.  He could see a subtle blush form on his cheeks.  But in true Aaron style, he just smiled, shook his head and resumed eating his breakfast. 

A typical morning in a not so typical household. 

Billy put his coat and shoes on, yelled his goodbyes to everyone and began his trek into the heart and soul of New Orleans.

Billy strolled aimlessly through the streets of the French Quarter.  He enjoyed people watching and would immerse himself in the overall atmosphere of this exciting and sometimes chaotic section of town.   

Of course, he had to stop in the local skateboard shop and drool over the newest boards.  He didn't have one of his own yet, but he was anticipating that his birthday in a few months would prove to be a fruitful one.  He dropped hints to Sandy at least every other day.  Although she pretended to not hear him, he continued to hope he’d get one.

Billy finally wandered into Jackson Square and as he watched an artist draw a portrait for some tourists, he noticed his favorite tour group walk by.  As usual, Billy was quickly caught up in a story about a local building that was supposedly haunted. 

That was when Billy saw him for the first time. 

He was short, just a few inches taller than Billy and on the slender side.  He had thinning white hair and was dressed like an old British man.  He wore tailored tan slacks, a crisp white lawn shirt and a tweed vest and coat.  The look was completed with a pocket watch hanging from his jacket pocket and a dark mahogany cane at his side.  But these things were not what drew Billy’s attention to him.  He possessed a regal and confident bearing that was intriguing. 

As Billy continued to stare at this odd, but interesting old man, the man himself turned to meet his gaze.  He was struck by the intensity of the man’s eyes, which were a startling and brilliant cobalt blue.  Billy was immediately filled with the feeling that he knew this man, but he just shook his head and forced himself to focus on the tour guide.

Billy continued to follow the group; however, he couldn't help but look at the man from the corner of his eye.  The strange gentlemen appeared to be completely engrossed in what the guide was saying.  He only moved when he would take out his pocket watch to check the time.  Billy thought it was strange that he would do this every few minutes.

The group continued to move down the street and listen to the stories and facts about the many buildings that lined it.  Billy was particularly captivated by a story about two young lovers, which of course involved magic and an untimely death.  He momentarily forgot the odd little man in the crowd. 

Suddenly, he heard a voice with a sharp British accent, coming from behind him. “Oh, what rubbish!” it said, followed by a quiet and merry laugh.  Billy quickly turned his head, only to stare at the very face he had been spying on for the past half an hour.

“What stories!  But I must say, I do enjoy them!” said the little man, the laughter still in his voice.  He was looking at the guide when he said this, but was unmistakably talking to Billy.  “How lucky you are to enjoy these tours regularly and such cheap entertainment,” said the man, as he gave Billy a quick wink.  He turned to meet the young boy’s gaze, again startling Billy with the intensity of his eyes.  Yet, he saw no malice in their depths. 

Billy began to blush due to the fact that he regularly tagged behind these tour groups without actually paying the fee to join them.  He quickly replied, “Excuse me, sir.  I have to go find my parents.”

Billy was already moving away as the little man spoke once again.  “I have noticed you converse with no one.  You live in this great city, I dare say and make regular jaunts to this place on your own.” 

Although Billy felt a familiarity with this man, rule number one was no talking to strangers.  He again started to exit the crowd when he heard that clear and crisp voice say, “I have traveled far to see you, Billy Townsend.  We have an appointment to keep.”

Billy again looked into the man’s eyes and saw that this was no joke.  He was mesmerized by the steely will of purpose penetrating from his gaze.  However, the man’s stare quickly reverted back to its original countenance of kindness and playfulness.  Billy felt momentarily captured by those eyes, but forced himself to tear his gaze away and began to quickly rush through the crowd. 

What the? Billy thought as he stood at the entrance of an alley way, watching the man continue with the tour as if nothing had happened. 

He didn't feel fear exactly, but he did feel confused and a little shaken up.  How did that man know my name?  Who was he?  Billy decided that the man meant him no harm; he even felt an affinity towards him.  He again wondered about the sure feeling that he knew him, almost like an uncle or a grandfather. 

Billy began to walk in the opposite direction of the tour and decided he should avoid the little man.  He was only allowed in the Quarter alone because Sandy trusted that he didn't talk with strangers.  And boy was this one strange! 

Billy couldn't help again wonder how the little man knew his name.  He knew that bizarre things happen in the US capital of weird and forced himself to shrug it off.  He decided to continue his walk and forget the whole thing happened.  Of course, the memory nagged at the edges of his mind as he continued down the street.

Billy decided that the best distraction would be a visit to his favorite book shop located in the heart of the square.  ‘Yuri’s Used Book Store’ was owned by a short, round Lithuanian man, and his store was as chaotic as he was. 

Billy walked through the front doors, once again amazed by how many books could be shoved into such a small space.  There were bookcases everywhere.  But that didn't include the hundreds, maybe thousands of books that were stacked up on walls and spilling into the aisles.  There were books of every shape and color piled on Yuri’s desk and all along its sides. 

The small shop had a slight moldy smell, but that didn't bother Billy.  These pungent aromas made him think of places and people he had never met, times that he had never experienced.  He always felt this odd sense of expectation when he ventured over the little shop’s threshold, hoping to find a book into that world. 

“Billy, my boy, haven’t seen you since, oh I don’t know, three days ago?” 

Yuri yelled this greeting while attempting to hold at least twenty books in his short and chubby arms.  A few fell down and the little shopkeeper bent over to retrieve them.  Billy quickly rushed over, picked them up and placed them on Yuri’s desk. 

“Hi, Yuri, anything new come in?”  

“Why, I’m holding a few gems right here in my arms!” Yuri enthusiastically replied, as he dumped the rest of the books on top of his desk. 

His eyes immediately lit on one in particular.  “Well, I just got in some Jules Verne.  Now there’s a true visionary!” he said, while shaking the book in his hands.  “‘20,000 Leagues under the Sea!’  Every young lad has to read this one!  What with Giant squids and nuclear subs!  What adventure?”  Yuri was really getting started.  He pulled a bandanna out of his shirt pocket and began to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead.

“Oh, here’s one, ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’!  Revenge, treasure, and a prison break!  I just love these old stories.  They don’t write them like they used to, I tell ya.”  Yuri held these two books in his hands and gazed at them fondly.  He seemed to be remembering the time he had read them himself as a young boy. 

Billy took this moment to wander over to the science fiction section.  Well, the giant mass of books that Yuri told him was the science fiction section.  But he wasn't really into this genre and he was in the mood for fantasy today. 

As Billy picked up a tattered copy of The Hobbit, he heard the little bell on top of the shop’s door jingle.  He looked up and none other than Trish walked through the door, accompanied by one of her girlfriends.

“I can’t believe I have to come in here.  It smells.”  She wrinkled her perfect little nose and waved a hand in front of her face. 

Billy quickly hid behind a shelf, but peered in between the shelves so he could watch her walk through the store.  His heart was thumping.  He was torn between her seeing him and not seeing him, all at the same time.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up a book for Doris Abernathy, please,” she politely informed Yuri.

“Ah, yes,” he smiled, which quickly turned into a frown.  “Oh, I forgot!  Not to worry, though.  Billy!  Can you get me a copy of...what is it again?”

“Forgotten Love,” Trish said with a tight smile that expressed her annoyance.

“Oh right, Forgotten Love.  Can you get me that out of the Romance section?” he yelled.

“Sure, Yuri,” Billy nervously replied as he left his hiding spot.  At that moment, he decided he would have preferred she didn't see him.

“Hey,” he breathed, giving Trish a shy smile.  “Um, who’s the author?” he asked while walking down the aisle.

“Jennifer Donovan.”

Billy’s eyes scanned the shelves, but he was really just thinking about a way to start a conversation.  He could ask her what she was doing later.  No, that would sound like he was asking her on a date! he berated himself.  How about her favorite book?  That was pretty safe, he thought. 

Finally, Billy located the book and of course it was three shelves above him.  He stood on his tippy toes and reached up for the book, all the while mentally chanting: be casual, be casual. 

As he felt the spine of the book with his fingers, he started to ask, “So, Trish, do you like to read-” Unfortunately, that sentence went unfinished as about thirty books fell on his head. 

As he bent to find her book in the heap on the floor, he could hear the two girls trying to not laugh above him.  He felt a burning blush sear his humiliated cheeks.

When Billy finally found the book, he stood up.  “Ahh, here you go,” he said quickly and he placed the book in her hands.  He promptly walked away and was so embarrassed; he didn't even wait for her response. 

As he left their line of sight, a loud eruption of girlish giggles filled the store.  Billy decided to hide in the back room until they were gone.  Finally, he heard the tinkle of the doorbell and felt it was safe to leave his hiding spot.

Billy decided that his day in the quarter was over, he just needed to get his book and he was leaving.  He decided he was going to read The Hobbit after all.
As he picked it up, he glimpsed a snatch of plaid out of the corner of his eye.  Instinctively, Billy turned his head and found himself staring at the back of a very familiar white headed man.
What is going on?  Did that old guy follow me here?  That was Billy’s last thought as he began to slowly walk toward the exit.  Although Billy was as quiet as a mouse, the man turned his head.

“Well, hello again, young man!  What a strange coincidence to be meeting you here like this,” he said in his merry voice.

What are you talking about? thought Billy.  I thought we had an appointment to keep!  Instead, he replied, “Ya, strange.  Well, I gotta go.  I’m late and time goes by fast when you’re in the Quarter.”  He turned around and began to walk out the door.  But the sound of the man’s voice stopped him in his tracks. 

“Yes, time is a funny creature, isn't she?” he said as he polished his pocket watch.  “‘Time heals all wounds.’  What an interesting saying, wouldn't you agree?” added the little man.  His eyes took on that brilliant cast, but only for a moment and then it was gone. 

Billy had no idea what to say.  What a weirdo!  Familiar or not, he needed to get out of there and avoid him at all costs.  Billy decided to walk out the door and head straight home without looking back.

Chapter 5 

As Billy walked down Pine St., he decided he was going to hide out in his room for the night and just read.  The day had been a complete bust and he just wanted to go in his room and forget that that the last 24 hours had even happened. 

His hands were in his pockets and he was looking at the ground deep in thought.  All of a sudden, a voice jarred him from his internal meanderings.

“Hey, Billy,” a soft voice said.

Billy looked up and stopped in his tracks.  It was Trish.  He couldn't believe it. Trish was actually going out of her way to talk to him.  Maybe he hadn't looked as stupid as he thought at Yuri’s.

Billy could feel his palms begin to sweat.   “Uh, hey,” he replied, trying to act casual.

Trish actually smiled at him.  “I’m just out walking my dog.” 

Billy looked down to see a little Shiatsu pawing Trish’s legs and he took a step back.  He didn't really like little dogs.  He thought that they were loud and snappy.

“How’s your head?” she sweetly asked.

Billy’s hand instinctively touched the bump on his head.  “My head? Um, it’s fine.”

“Ya, I was just telling everyone about your little accident.”  She motioned to a group of kids standing in the park.  Billy could see Scott standing in the middle of them. 

Suddenly, everyone started laughing.  He felt his face burn.  Ok, ha ha, the book incident was funny, but not that funny, he thought angrily.  That was when he felt something on his leg.  He looked down to see Trish’s dog’s leg lifted and peeing all over his pant leg.

She let out a laugh, but quickly covered her mouth, “I’m so sorry.  Flipsy, bad dog!” she chastised her pet, but with no real anger in her voice. 

Billy ran across the street and walked quickly toward his house, which was only a few doors up the road.  He clenched his jaw as he heard the unmistakable voice of Scott yelling out, ‘What a loser!’ and of course, everyone laughed.

Billy was in a rage as he jogged up the path leading to his front door.  He entered the house and took off his shoes and coat, completely oblivious to the noise and chaos within. 

A football game was blaring on the TV.  Joe and Robbie were jumping up and down as their favorite football team made a touchdown.  Toby was telling Sandy about his day with his mother.  His already high voice reaching glass shattering pitches as he excitedly re-told a story, something about a dog and cotton candy.  Only Aaron was quiet as he sat at the dining room table, carefully mixing ingredients into a pink solution.

However, none of this pandemonium affected Billy in any way.  He was so deep in thought, he didn't even acknowledge Sandy when she said hello.

“Helllooo there!  Hey, how was your day!”  Sandy yelled, attempting to gain Billy’s attention.  Yet, nothing could penetrate Billy’s thoughtful state.  Well, until a football hit him in the side of the head.

“What the heck?” yelled Billy, as he held the side of his face.  He turned to glare at Robbie, who in no way attempted to hide the fact that he was the assailant.

“Hey, bud, just trying to do my part to help out the adults in the house,” stated Robbie in his typical sarcastic manner.  He then laughed and turned his attention back to the football game.

Later, Billy would contemplate his actions, but for now he just saw red.  After his confrontation with Scott, Jeanie, Trish and the white haired man, Billy just had it.  Robbie was the perfect cherry on an already perfect few days.

“Hey, if you’re going to hit me, why don’t you do it over here, instead over there beside Joe?”

Everyone stopped to stare at Billy.  The Billy they knew never yelled or was aggressive toward anyone or anything.  Even Robbie was momentarily taken back by this sudden and unexpected outburst.  Robbie was always like that and never had Billy gotten mad about it before.  However, that didn't stop Robbie from taking the few necessary steps to stand in front of him. 

“You think I’m scared of you.  You!  Hey bud, I’ll take you out any time!” he threatened in an uncharacteristically calm voice. 

Before Billy could think of a reply, Joe was standing in between the boys. “Robbie, go watch the game.  If that ball leaves your hands again, I’ll retire it!  You get my meaning?”  Joe firmly stated, as Robbie continued to glare at Billy.  “Now!” said Joe in an unyielding voice he rarely had to use.  Robbie slowly turned around and sat back down in front of the TV. 

Joe returned his attention to Billy.  “You, upstairs now!” he said in a raised voice.  Billy immediately turned around and quickly went up the stairs and into his bedroom.

 As he sat on his bed, Joe entered and closed the door until only a crack remained.  He took a deep breath and put his hand on his forehead.  He then just shook his head as if at a loss for words.  “Billy, what got into you down there?” 

Joe didn't raise his voice as Billy had expected him to.  Billy looked down into his hands and remained silent. 

“Hey, you need to talk to me.  I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” Joe said with sincerity. 

For the first time in his life, Billy felt all of the words he could never say rush to the surface.  He didn't want to talk about the last few days; instead he vented his feeling from all of his previous years.  “You don’t get it, Joe!  You can’t help me!  What I need, what every kid here needs is not something you can pull out of a hat and give us!” he yelled, as he looked up into Joe’s eyes. 

Joe stood still, not saying a word.  “You just don’t get it!  You say you want to help me, but how can you when you don’t have a clue what it’s like to be me!  I have no family, no friends, no real home!  All of this, it isn't real, Joe!  Ok, so we do stuff like celebrate Christmas, but come on, like you’re not wishing you were at home with your own family!  This ‘family’ is fake and our ‘parents’ are only here because they’re paid to be!  I’m sick of it!  All of you have a huge say in my life, but I could be gone in six months, you could be gone!  This bogus family isn't forever and real families are forever!” 

Joe straightened himself up, returning Billy’s gaze.  Billy rarely looked anyone in the eye, much less raised his voice.  This courage didn't last though, as he quickly put his head down and resumed staring at his hands. 

Silence enveloped Billy’s small room.  Finally, he said in a low voice, “Look, I know that you do your best and so does Sandy.  But you get to go home, maybe visit your parents on the weekend.  You enjoy Sunday night dinners together.  Maybe talk about stuff you did as a kid or the first time you rode a bike.”  Billy paused before continuing.  “The fact that we can’t do that isn't your fault and I’m sorry I kinda took it out on Robbie.  It just gets frustrating sometimes.  I, I …”  Billy tried to think of the words he wanted to say, but they refused to come. 

Joe knelt down in front of Billy.  “This is good.  This is exactly what we've been trying to get you to do.  Get it out, talk about it,” he said in soft and comforting voice. 

Billy just shook his head.  “That’s just it, Joe, I don’t want to talk about it with you.  The people I want to talk to about it aren't around.  And Ya, I know, I need to accept that and move on with life.  Listen, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.  Just leave me alone.” 

Joe continued to stay where he was.  “Please, Joe, you can’t help every kid you meet and I’m one of those kids, Ok,” he said in a quiet voice, his gaze pleading for Joe to understand.

“Billy, I can help you if you let me,” replied Joe, as he put his hand on Billy’s shoulder. 

Billy didn't want to build relationships, they end and that person goes away.  He stood up and clenched his fists at his sides.  “Get out of my room, Joe.  Just please get out!” 

Joe must have heard the frantic edge in Billy’s voice.  He slowly got up and walked toward the door.  He stopped and turned around to look at the angry boy before him.  “Everyone has a different path, Billy.  I know yours isn't mine with Sunday night dinners.  I just want to help you find yours.”  His eyes were warm and he wore a sad smile upon his face.  He then quietly opened the door and left.

Great, thought Billy, as he flopped down onto his bed.  He put his fist to his forehead, clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut.  He didn't want to hurt anyone, even Robbie.  He didn't even really understand what happened to him downstairs or in his room with Joe.  Something was breaking open inside him and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to control the volatile emotions fighting to spill out. 

Billy continued to lie on his bed and stare up at the ceiling.  He could see cracks in the plaster, cracks that had probably been there for years.  Just like me, he thought.  And these cracks can’t be fixed by just calling in some repairman.  The truth was, he didn't know how to fix them and he didn't know how to let Joe or Sandy help him. 

Billy’s morose thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a ping on his bedroom window.  He quickly sat up and stared out into the night.  After the day he had, he didn't want to deal with whatever that was.  Another ping.  His mind returned to the strange little man with white hair.  Billy stood up and moved slowly against the wall toward the window and attempted to look out of it using his peripheral vision. 

That was when he saw brilliant red gleaming in the moonlight.  Jeanie.  Billy walked to his window, looked down at his classmate and vigorously shook his head. 

In the clear and well lit evening, he could easily see Jeanie clasping her hands under her chin and a look of ‘please’ on her face.  Billy didn’t want to risk getting into more trouble.  But he thought if he could at least resolve one issue, maybe he could pull off some kind of decent sleep tonight. 

He quietly opened his window, jumped onto the big oak tree outside and quickly climbed down.  Jeanie was waiting eagerly at the base of the tree.  Billy gave her a hard look that said to follow him and he began walking toward the park across the street.  When he reached a rusty old swing set, Billy folded his arms and gave her an impatient look.

“Ok, I know this is a little unusual, but I needed to talk to you!” said Jeanie in a little girl’s voice.  “I don’t care where you live or who you live with and I really don’t like you thinking I do care.  Which brings to mind!  How dare you imply that I’m that judgmental!  I talk to who I want, when I want.  You got that, Townsend!”  The little girl’s voice was being quickly replaced by a very irate and angry tone.  “I mean, I just don’t see why we can’t be friends, even if you do move from here next week.  Furthermore-” 

Jeanie’s heated tirade was suddenly drowned out by a loud boom.  Actually, it sounded like a bomb went off.  The blast sent him and Jeanie through the air, both landing painfully onto their backs.  Billy felt as if the air was knocked out of his lungs.  He scrambled to his feet, only to find himself staring into a gaping hole about ten feet across, carved deep into the landscape.  Jeanie was still coughing when the swing set was blown right out of the ground and landed in the street. 

Billy’s mind went blank.  He grabbed Jeanie and began to run. He had to practically drag her as she was still disoriented and coughing from the debris in the air.  They could hear more blasts behind them, but they didn’t dare stop to look back.  All of a sudden, a bright green and glowing ball whizzed past them and uprooted a giant weeping willow tree.  Large chunks of earth unmercifully pelted them both. 

Billy had no thoughts but to run.  His mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend or analyze what was happening around them.  His breath was becoming labored and a stitch was developing in his side.  Jeanie was slowing down as well and he was having a hard time pulling her along with him. 

Just when he thought he couldn’t go any further, a vibrant blue door literally unfolded itself in front of him.  Billy couldn’t stop himself, his momentum was too strong.  All he had time to do was widen his eyes as an all too familiar plaid arm reached through the light and pulled him and Jeanie through the door.

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About A.E. Albert

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