The Last Creator, страница 1
The Last Creator
Copyright 2012 Roger Laird
All rights reserved
Discover other works by Roger Laird at RogerLairdWriting.com
Table of Contents
Complications at School
Molecular Diffusion Theory
The Last Creator
Read More From Roger Laird
Legacy: A Father’s Tale
Jeremiah Stalwart was a child that did not seek out trouble. It was in fact extraordinary, the lengths he went in order to prevent trouble in his life, even if he wasn’t actually aware of it himself. Despite his efforts to avoid problems normally faced by a child of seven, he had been the source of unhappiness in his home life since he was an infant. Jeremiah’s mother, Eliza Stalwart, was looked upon with criticism by people within her town. This was primarily due to her open insistence that her son had experienced a string of strange disappearances as a toddler. Though his mother never stated it directly, he knew that his unexplained disappearances were somehow involved in his father, Robert’s, sudden decision to leave Jeremiah and his mom.
Jeremiah found school boring. Being as intelligent as he was, he could not find anything that interested him to occupy his mind between easily answered questions or during boring lectures, though the explanations his second grade teacher gave could hardly qualify as a lecture. He spent his time during recess in the library of the school. It had always been kept open to those children who preferred to stay in and read, mostly for older students who had some sort of detention or needed extra time to catch up on homework, but he found that he was never turned away.
On a Friday afternoon, Jeremiah found an introductory book on biology and chemistry. It was intended for seventh and eighth grade readers, but Jeremiah had been reading books at that level for a long time. It was one of the benefits of living in such a small town, that the junior high school and elementary school were combined. Nobody ever paid attention to what he read if he didn’t check it out. After reading the two small chapters about each subject, Jeremiah had a sensation that told him something was wrong with what the book had explained. He looked at the clock and realized that he was half an hour late for class.
He checked the book out, not caring if anybody was suspicious of why. He figured they would think he liked looking at the pictures. He ran to class and slowed before stopping in the doorway, waiting for his teacher to notice him and invite him in. She did. She scolded him about the irresponsibility of not returning to class on time and let him stand in front of the entire class while she phoned the office to inform them that he no longer needed to be found. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around the book the entire time.
When the teacher was finished on the phone, she strode back to him. She proffered her hand and asked him shortly, “Let’s see what book was so important that you felt entitled to an extra half hour in the library.”
He reluctantly held out the book for her.
She took it and laughed. “Clearly there are some amazing pictures in this book, but you must have spent the last half hour trying to understand what the book said.”
He nodded his head, intending his deeper search for understanding of the concepts as the affirmative.
“You are far too young to understand the depths of the science within this book. Please return to your seat and take out your English book.”
The class laughed at his ridicule. He felt small, and was thankful that he sat in the back of the room. While it meant that everyone would watch him as he walked back to his seat, nobody would continue to stare at him from behind after he got there.
After the school bell rang, he shoved his books in his backpack, along with his half eaten sack lunch, but he kept the library book out to carry in his arms. He lingered after his classmates, a habit that he had developed to avoid being followed or bullied on his walk home from school. But when he got outside the main gate to the school that day, there were three boys huddled together whispering to each other. They froze immediately when they noticed him. He knew two of the boys from his class, but the clear leader of the group was a few grades older, perhaps an older brother of one of the boys. He stood still, looking in their direction but refusing to approach them. If they wanted trouble he would keep as big a head start as he could.
They called out to him. He didn’t respond the first time. In truth, he hadn’t even processed what they were saying. When they called out again, it was plain that they had nothing but the evilest of boyhood intentions. Without hesitation, without indicating anything to the boys, he turned and ran as fast as he could. He ran toward the middle of town. If he got to the businesses, there would be adults around and he would be more protected if the provocation escalated. The mere presence of the adults would probably prevent that. He knew he could outrun the younger boys, but if the older boy decided to run ahead of the others, he would not make it. He was fortunate that the older boy was not as invested in the sport as the younger two. He reached Main Street and turned right. He was a block away from the busiest section of town.
He thought about ducking into the alley halfway down the block but the boys rounded the corner after him before he got there. Jeremiah watched his reflection flash by in the storefront windows. Passing into the alley, he picked up more speed. As he came to the intersection just before the strip of stores, he saw that the sidewalks were empty. On Friday afternoons, people were usually at home getting ready for Friday night and there was no one around to help him. He went through the second door to a wide hallway lined with shops, similar to a mini-mall. Running to the door that led into the alley behind the buildings, he reached it before the other boys came into the hallway behind him. He turned left, knowing they would expect him to go right and double back to look for safety. Halfway down the alley, he heard the other boys’ shouts. A sense of nothingness overcame him.