Prologue:
He stopped to refuel his motorcycle: he loved traveling with his motorcycle, a pleasure he had during his teenage years but due to circumstances of life, for long time he wasn't able to continue his rides.
But a few months ago, there was a dramatic change in his life: he was "murdered" by someone who was once his best friend but afterward, the man became his greatest enemy. He survived the ambush conceived by his nemesis but the scenario didn't allow him to return to his normal life, not when the lives of everyone close to him were at stake: their jobs, their homes…everything.
For some time, he kept his survival, a secret to almost everyone except for his all time friend who he called for his help: after the funeral, he told his secret to his parents and the woman he loved and no matter how much he wished to stay close to them, he knew, it was a risk. Eventually he said "goodbye" to his closest ones, better yet, an "I'll see you soon", a promise he made to his soul mate.
Then, he set course to North, traveling erratically, ending up to his second home: the so called "Fortress of Solitude". This was a place his biological father called his true home although he never called it like that: the recreation of a lost, doomed and extinct civilization from where he was the last son, was in fact, a place lifeless, loneliness, coldness, without the essential attributes it required so that he would call it a home.
Sometimes he would rise higher than the clouds and stopped, floating, closing his eyes and focused his hearing, to hear what the world was saying to him.
For months, he worked 24/7 as the world's greatest hero, a sentinel, a guardian angel providing the help the world needed but as time passed by, the loneliness began talking to his soul: he began realizing it when he saved entire families during rescue operations as relatives were hugging each other, for the joy, the happiness; during the patrols he made through the sky of the big and small cities seeing people walking in the streets living their normal lives, something he deeply missed: above all, human touch. It was the human touch he needed from his friends, family and his lover but it was something he was deprived from. They were surrounded by eyes and hears, specially his lover. He was alone.
That's when his all time friend gave him a second chance, a fresh start, an opportunity to start a new normal life leading him to same point where he was standing at that moment: refueling his motorcycle in a self-service gas station in a route, outside Anchorage, Alaska.
He approached the attendant to pay for the gas.
"Excuse me but how far is it to Dillingham?" – The attendant suspiciously eyed him and then to his motorcycle. To the employee, that guy was probably just another trouble maker with an attitude problem, wearing black shirt, sunglasses and jeans.
"Well…" – The attendant continued eyeing him suspiciously. – "…that depends how you fast you're going…"
"Just an idea…" – he insisted.
"Well, you're close to Lake Clark…so I guess it will take about three/four hour non-stopping trip."
"Thank you…" – he smiled and turned around, heading to his motorcycle. He turned on the engine and immediately he left the gas station.
The employee headed to the road, watching the motorcycle already far away.
"Just an idea, my butt."
He arrived at Dillingam by nightfall just in time to grab a snack and installing at the only motel in the village. He spent the night there, the first night outside his fortress in months: he was excited enough for not going to sleep and gaining insomnia for that matter.
Seconds became minutes and minutes became hours and soon it was morning: he got up, took his shower and he got dressed: after that he was ready to exit but he stopped, looking himself at the mirror. The suit, the tie brought memories of the mild-mannered reporter and looking closer he remembered something was missing: he went back and from his small luggage, he took a small box and opened. He headed to the mirror and slowly he put his glasses. For a few seconds, he contemplated himself and he realized he had reborn. After that, he exited his room and he took his breakfast at the only coffeehouse of the place and then headed for the one school of the village where they were already expecting.
He arrived two minutes later: one of the advantages of living in a small village was that everything was in proximity. A pre-fabricated structure was called the school where the assistant was expecting him. He ran to her and smiled nervously. – "Good morning, I'm…"
"Professor, this way…" – she indicated the way without even making any questions, guiding him across the corridors to one room where a group of kids were sitting, waiting for their professor.
Before she opened the door, the assistant looked at him. - "Good luck professor." - The assistant opened the door and he followed her, stopping at her side, facing then the small group of kids who were about to become his students.
"Kids, meet your new professor: Professor Charles King."
To be continued…
