|Subject: Chapter 2
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Date Posted: Monday, July 10, 01:24:25pm
In reply to:
's message, "New Story - Just Knowing" on Sunday, July 09, 09:48:46am
Adam was completing his packing. At fourteen years old he had finally convinced his father that he could do his own packing this time without assistance from any of the staff. He had plenty of practice through the years. Besides, his sense of meticulousness and privacy, both traits inherited from his father, ran very deep even at his young age and he would prefer his things only be handled by himself.
Adam was excited about where he was going. He knew that his father felt very guilty about this latest, sudden adjustment in their lives. But Adam had known instinctively that this was always a possibility. As much as he knew his father was struggling with the guilt of this situation, Adam himself had been planning for this day for some time. He was more than ready.
He had watched his father over the years as he tried to be the supporting loving father that he felt Adam needed. But Adam was a fiercely independent soul and he wanted to do things his way for as long as he could remember. He loved his father deeply for what he had tried so hard to do over the years, but he did not need him in the way that his father thought he did, certainly not any more.
As Adam packed his mind thought back to everything from so many years ago. He thought of his mother and watching her as she would brush her long dark hair, his thoughts then turned to his time with what he only knew as ‘the bad men’, he remembered the bridge and the child-like joy of running into his father’s arms. So many years ago, pictures that flashed through his consciousness and he kept them filed away, safe. He also remembered the train station. Even though very young, something inside of him knew that what he was seeing was important and he needed to take special care to remember every detail. So he had decided that he would remember and therefore he just had. He also memorized the blond lady with the smile.
He knew from his father’s nightmares that her name was Nikita. He had heard his father call out her name late into the night for years as he relived things in his nightmares. It used to scare Adam when his father would have the nightmares, but over time they just became a part of their lives. Adam knew that there was a horrendous past that his father never talked about, that it haunted his father both day and night. He never looked rested, never really calm, he was always on guard no matter where they were and what they were doing.
Adam was very worried about him these last few days. He knew something had changed after the messenger came to the house the other night very late. His father had used a tone of voice that he had never heard him use before and it sent a chill down Adam’s spine. He ordered Adam back to his room, and Adam went without hesitation, actually frightened of his father in those moments. Adam had waited in his room until he was positive the man was gone and then made his way through the dark house and found his father in the den holding some type of what looked to be a complicated cell phone of some kind.
“Dad, what is it? What’s going on?”
Michael put the device down and sat indicating Adam should do the same. They remained silently in each others company for many long moments, Adam had grown used to these silences, but tonight his father was deeply disturbed by whatever message had just been delivered. He saw a fury in his father’s eyes, and his posture seemed to radiate a predatory stance. He was obviously very, very mad. He needed his father to talk to him, “Dad?”
Michael finally spoke, his voice soft as always but with a cold and almost pained tone, “I’m going to have to go away Adam.”
Something in the finality of the tone told Adam that this was serious. He waited as his father carefully selected his next words.
“I thought you would be a little older before this happened. I’m sorry.”
But Adam wasn’t concerned with apologies. He had seemed to always know that his father had something else that would demand priority in his life at any time. Adam didn’t feel slighted at all. Whatever it was his father had to do was extremely important and had to do with the life that he walked away from so many years ago. No Adam did not feel insulted, he felt empowered and able to take hold of his own destiny, “You won’t be coming back, at least not for a long time.”
Michael closed his eyes against the pain that enveloped him in waves as Adam’s words were not a question, but a statement. He had no choice, he never really had any. This was the way that it had to be at this very moment. He had known this time would come, had always known it. But he had hoped that Adam would be just a few years older than he was. “I don’t want to do this Adam, not now…”
“Dad. I know you have to go. I think I’ve always known. It’s what you were meant to do.”
Michael was momentarily stunned at his son’s insight, “How do you know that?”
“Because I know you. Sometimes I know what you are going to say before you even say it. And – don’t get all weird on me or anything – but, somehow we are so much alike that I almost know what you are thinking at times.”
Michael smirked at his son’s remark. Michael had watched his son develop into the young man that he was now. They were eerily similar, much more so as Adam had hit his teenage years. “Adam, there is an awful lot that you probably should know.”
Interrupting without pause, “Dad, even though you have never really talked about it, there is a lot that I remember from when I was really young. You don’t really have to fill in the details.”
He was so proud of his son at that moment as they sat there and talked in the late hours of the night. He had always been proud of his academic excellence that propelled him through school in advanced levels, his ability to read a situation and react with an amazing swiftness that belied his years. But Michael did not know how much his son knew him. Adam was indeed unique and talented. Michael prayed that he would be alright.
Then Adam asked the question, said the name that he had never uttered to his Father before, “This is about Nikita, isn’t it?”
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