| "Like the Mother" | |||
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Hickman County, Tennessee May 24, 2008 1945 hours The Nameless Boy sat at his desk in his room staring wistfully at the cream colored wall across from him. It had been raining for two days and being cooped up inside was beginning to take its toll. He daydreamed about wide open spaces, the sun on his face, the wind, the moon, the stars, everything, anything, but the large math problem that currently glared up at him from underneath his tapping pencil. Didn't prodigy boys have a right to daydream? He thought so. He leaned back in his chair, still tapping the pencil, trying not to think about the physics that lay in front of him. He looked to the bed, his duffel bag completely packed and tied, sat on the middle of it on the blue plaid bedspread he had smoothed out that morning. The Spiderman clock showed 7:45 on the small desk next to his bed and the glass that had been filled with water last night, stood empty, the water having long since evaporated. Why did Miss. Ammerman have to give such a difficult problem over the weekend? She was such a bitch. He grinned. At his young age of nine saying such things would be considered horrific, horrendous, and downright socially unacceptable. But in his head, in his mind, he was not a nine year old prodigy child, he was just himself, the Nameless Boy. And he could say whatever he damned well pleased. A soft knock at the door brought him out of his thoughtful contemplations. "Yeah," he said flatly as he put his arm up on the table, for all intents and purposes making it look like he was actually doing work. A brunette head with a kind smile poked her head in, "Brian, you have a visitor." Before he could answer, before he cold protest or even pick something up to throw at the door, She entered. His breath slowed down to almost nothing as he stared at her. Her white skin glowed softly from the lamp at his bedside. Her hair, like brown strands of the finest silk accented with various colors spilled over her shoulders in glorious waves. Her lips, colored the faintest and warmest of pinks pursed together slightly. And her eyes, chocolate colored eyes that spoke silently of the wisdom in what they had seen. Her likeness was of the Mother and that was why she startled him so completely. The Mother had perished some time ago and he had never seen anyone since then, that came close to the likeness of the Mother. He stood up slowly, his brow furrowed in concentration, remembering, remembering the Mother that had held him so gently and stroked his hair, that made him feel safe. God, he had loved her so much, still did, and seeing this person, so much like the Mother...he thought...he thought his heart might break right in half. "Hello Brian," she said softly. And it hit him, causing him to flinch just the slightest bit. That voice. It was not the Mother's. He knew, it could not be like the Mother's, because that would be impossible, but he had hoped it might be, might be a little like the Mother. But there was something that was wrong with that voice, something...just wrong. He felt it, like the feeling someone is watching you, or standing behind you, the feeling that makes the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up a little straighter and your palms sweat. That was the feeling. And he knew something was wrong, he just knew. His eyes shifted to the backpack on his bed. Was this what he had been waiting for? He looked back to the woman who had spoken. She was dressed in black, her hands, that he instinctively knew would be as soft as linen, were hidden in the coat's pockets. She was not necessarily tall, though she was considerably taller than he was. "Hello," he said softly. She smiled and drew in a small breath at the same time. "You're going to spend a few days with me and my colleagues." Didn't he have a say in this? "I am," he stated flatly. He did not trust her. She walked towards him slowly, those beautiful chocolate eyes fixed on his. And still she had that smile on her face. "Yes, I think you'll enjoy it. Certainly it's much more interesting than here." So smoothly she spoke, and he thought if any sound should ever be uttered from the heavens, that it should sound like her voice. He said nothing though, caught in her awe, in her beauty. "My name is Madeline," she said extending her hand. Madeline. Such a beautiful name. She was lucky to have such a beautiful name...or any name at all for that matter. He took her hand gently, as if touching something fragile, like a baby bird, as if it might break in his child sized grasp. Her skin, like silken linen, was warm, not cold like so many people he knew, but warm, inviting. Her hands were like the Mother's. "Hello," he said again forcing a small smile to his lips. "I realize this is abrupt, but the schedule could not be helped." He nodded his head slowly releasing her hand and walking over to his bed, careful not to touch her. He rested his hand on his backpack. "I've been waiting," he said slowly. She smiled, and again, it was accompanied by that small intake of breath. "There is much to do." He nodded, picking up the pack and shouldering it. With his brilliant eyes staring up at her they made their way to the main hall foyer. Mrs. Branston, the head of the facility smiled as they approached. Madeline extended one of her silken hands and smiled warmly at the older woman. "Thank you so much for arranging this on such short notice." Mrs. Branston nodded, "it doesn't happen that often, but it does, when one of our scholars are needed urgently." She then beamed at Brian. "Well, the government appreciates all that you do for our young prodigies." "It's our pleasure," Mrs. Branston replied and Brian couldn't help but role his eyes at the comment. If Branston kissed this lady's ass anymore she'd have to buy stock in Chapstik. Brian smiled at the thought. Madeline looked down at him, "Are you ready Brian?" He nodded looking up at her before pouting as Mrs. Branston kneeled in front of him. "Now." Oh brother here it comes, Brian rolled his eyes. "Don't roll your eyes young man. I expect you to be on your best behavior. I don't want to hear any stories of you getting into trouble. You do as you're asked." "You got it," he said flatly. The older lady took a deep breath and straightened to face Madeline. "This is only his third time working on a project, the first two being with NASA." "I understand, don't worry, he'll be in good hands. We'll have him home in a week. If anything changes I'll be sure to call you." "Thank you," Mrs. Branston nodded and smiled. With the formalities finally over, Madeline and himself left the Institute and got into a long black limo. Brian grinned, boy were the kids at class on Monday gonna be jealous when they found out he went to work on a project! "What are you smiling at Brian?" Madeline's soft voice interrupted his happy, doting thoughts. He shook his head, "nuthin." He may be only nine years old, but he wasn't stupid. These government people were as trustworthy as old Miss. Ammerman. No matter how beautiful they were, or how big the car was they drove in, no matter how much they reminded him of the Mother. They could never be trusted. She nodded looking half interestedly out the window as the rain continued to come down. "Where are we going?" the thought suddenly occurred to him. "North Carolina." "That's a bit far." "Yes, it is." "What will I be doing?" She smiled at him a moment then took another one of those agonizingly small breaths. "Math...it is what you do, isn't it?" He shrugged, "I like physics, not so much math." "Isn't physics math?" He looked at her sideways, "to the lay person...yeah." "You'll be working on a confidential project with one of the most brilliant scientists in the world." He looked out the window watching the street lights pass. Brilliant. Yeah, he had worked with brilliant people before and that had turned into a disaster. He would reserve his judgement on this particular brilliant scientist until he had met him personally. Or her. It could always be a Her. That would be nice, working with a Her this time. The Hims always seemed guarded, they never listened to him. "Do you mind if I watch the tv?" Madeline shook her head, "not at all. There's some movies in the bar." He grinned picking one out and holding it up for her approval. She nodded her head and he set up the small tv and pressed the play button. It didn't matter what the movie was, just as long as there was distraction from him. He sat on the floor, watching the movie though he focused all his attention on her. She worked on a small PDA it looked like. Typing, tapping, studying, furrowing her eyebrow just the tiniest bit, then almost smiling. Creepy. He finally latched on to the word. That would be how he described this Madeline. Creepy. If it weren't for her likeness to the Mother, the Nameless Boy thought he would not be working with her at all. Return |
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