"THE BOYFRIEND"

Part II

by Kirk Hastings

(Based on characters created by Sidney Sheldon for "The Patty Duke Show", broadcast from 1963 to 1966 on ABC-TV.)

Ted escorted Cathy back to the front door of the Lane home. He told her to wait for him there, and he quickly sprinted up the street to where he had dropped his schoolbooks. He gathered them up, and then returned to Cathy. Just then Natalie Lane came outside onto the sidewalk. She had heard sirens and a commotion up the street, and came out to see what was going on.

"Apparently there's been a car accident of some kind up the block," Ted informed her (which was the truth).

"Ted, I'd like to go inside," Cathy told him. She was still a little shaky from her recent experience.

"Are you all right, Cathy?" Mrs. Lane asked. "You look a little pale."

"Yes, Aunt Natalie," Cathy answered, bending the truth a little. "I'm just a little tired."

Ted led Cathy inside. After a minute or so of peering down the street, Mrs. Lane came back inside also. She headed for the Lane kitchen as Ted sat Cathy down on the living room couch. He sat down next to her and held her hand.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ted asked her, concern in his voice.

"Yes, I'm all right," she replied. "Thanks to you. I'm very grateful for what you did, however you did it."

"I'm just thankful that I was there, once again, when you needed me."

Just then Kenneth Lane came downstairs and into the living room.

"Hi Kit-Kat!" he said to Cathy when he noticed the pair sitting there. He nodded to Ted. "Hello Ted."

"Hello, Mr. Lane," Ted replied.

"How was your day at school?" Ken continued, addressing Cathy once again.

She smiled a brief, wan smile at Ted before answering.

"Oh, it was all right, father," she responded. "Nothing special."

"Good," Ken said. He smiled broadly. "You know, it's really nice to be able to be around to ask you how your day went, you know that?"

"Yes," Cathy told him. "It is."

"I wish we could do this more often."

"So do I."

Ken smiled again and continued on into the kitchen to talk to Cathy's aunt about something.

Cathy turned to Ted. "Ted, don't you think we should at least tell my father what happened?" she asked him. "After all, if those people from Khurdistan came all the way over here to try to harm him by abducting me, shouldn't he know about that? After all, if they did it once, they might try something like this again."

Ted nodded. "Yes, eventually we'll have to tell your father - and Mr. and Mrs. Lane too - what happened. But for the time being I really think we should keep this to ourselves."

A very determined look came across his face.

"Nevertheless, Cathy, I promise that I will not let anyone hurt you again," he told her.

Somehow, though she did not totally understand why, Cathy was inclined to believe him.

# # #

That night, Patty and Cathy lay in bed, chatting for a while as they usually did.

"I'm so glad things seem to be working out for you and Ted," Patty was saying. "… I mean the new Ted!" Patty added with a smile.

Cathy smiled back. "Yes," she said. "I'm very happy with the way things are going too. Ted is a very nice boy, and I like him a lot."

"And he really seems to like you too, Cath!" Patty exclaimed.

They spoke a little bit more about this and that, and finally Patty leaned over and turned out the light, settling in to go to sleep.

But Cathy continued to stare up at the ceiling for some time afterward, unable to close her eyes. She hated not telling Patty about what had really happened that afternoon, with the attempt to kidnap her and Ted's somewhat amazing rescue of her and all. She had always told Patty everything. But she could not bring herself to fill Patty in on what had happened - partly because she was afraid that it might alarm her. After all, she was pretty alarmed over what had happened herself. But partly because she had promised Ted that she wouldn't tell anyone else about it just yet.

But there were still a number of things that she did not understand. Such as: how was Ted able to catch up with a speeding van while on foot? And how did he subdue the van's driver and cause the van to crash? And how was he able to forcefully rip the rear doors off the van and overcome two adult foreign nationals professionally trained in hand-to-hand combat? And why did he not want anyone to know what he had done?

There was something different about Ted, something she could not quite put her finger on. And though she trusted him and believed he was a good, honest person, she felt like he wasn't telling her everything about himself.

# # #

Christmas came and went by quickly for the Lane family, and soon Kenneth, Cathy's father, would have to leave the Lane household once again and head back to his traveling the world on behalf of The New York Daily Chronicle. But the afternoon after Christmas day, Kenneth came over to his brother's study in the Lane home and stood in the doorway, a copy of The Chronicle tucked under his arm. Martin was sitting behind his desk doing some paperwork.

"Martin, got a minute?" Kenneth inquired.

Martin looked up. "Sure, Ken," he replied. "Come on in."

Kenneth came in and sat down in the chair in front of Martin's desk. For a moment he didn't say anything; he just sat there looking a little uncomfortable.

"Ken, what is it?" Martin asked, noticing Ken's odd demeanor.

Ken took his copy of The Chronicle out from under his arm and slapped it down on Martin's desk.

"Martin, did you read the article in The Chronicle today about those Khurdistani nationals who were involved in a traffic accident just up the street a couple days ago?"

"Yes, I did." Martin put down his pencil and sat back in his chair. "Odd thing, isn't it, that some Khurdistani operatives would just happen to have a van accident so close to our house."

Ken became serious. "Martin, I don't think it was a coincidence."

"You don't."

"No. I went down to the newspaper office early this morning, and I spoke to George Miller, the reporter J.R. assigned to the story. Miller doesn't think it was a coincidence either."

"What did he tell you?"

"Well, first of all, he told me that all three Khurdistanis were in this country illegally. They didn't come in through the normal channels. They were all smuggled in by others already in this country that we haven't been able to identify yet."

"Go on."

"Secondly, after they were arrested one of them was heard to mention my name to one of the others. He also mentioned Cathy's name."

By this time Martin was listening intently.

"Thirdly, the police can't explain what caused the van's driver to suddenly swerve and run into the front of that brownstone. Further, the rear doors of the van were found lying on the street, as if something – or someone – had physically ripped them off. And there was an unexplained hole in the roof of the van's cab right over the driver's seat that the driver said had been put there by someone with incredible strength putting his fist through it. One of the other men verified that someone with superhuman strength attacked them and ripped the rear doors off the van."

"That's incredible. Do you think they were telling the truth?"

"Miller does. He strongly believes that the three Khurdistanis were sent to this country to either assassinate me, or kidnap my daughter as a political hostage. Probably the latter."

Martin sat back in his chair, looking stunned.

"Oh my God, Ken," he said in a low voice.

And one more thing," Ken continued.

"What?"

"One of the Khurdistanis said that the person who attacked them and destroyed their van wasn't even a man – he was a teenager. He wanted to know what we were doing to our kids to make them so strong."

# # #

After some further discussion with Martin, Ken found Cathy upstairs (Patty and Cathy were still off from school for Christmas week; Patty was over at Richard's house), and sent her to the store on an errand. Then he placed a call to the Boys' Home up the block where Ted lived, and requested that he come over to the Lane home. Within a half hour Ted dutifully showed up at the Lane front door. After Ted arrived Ken escorted him into Martin's study, where Martin was still sitting at his desk.

"Sit down, Ted," Ken asked the boy, indicating the chair in front of Martin's desk. Ted sat down. Ken remained standing.

"Thank you, Ted, for coming over on such short notice," Ken began. "But Martin and I wanted to speak to you about some serious concerns we have for Cathy, and her safety."

Ted nodded politely. Though he wondered what Ken and Martin wanted of him, he exhibited no outward anxiety. He had grown to know both men well enough to know that they were good, honest people, and he trusted them completely.

"By all means - if there's any way I can help insure Cathy's safety, then please let me know," Ted said. "I certainly don't want anything to happen to her."

Ken nodded. "I know you don't. … Ted, you may have heard about the three Khurdistani nationals that were apprehended just up the street a couple days ago after having a van accident," Ken told him.

"Yes, I know about that," Ted replied honestly.

"And you know that I've had dealings with the Khurdistani people, what with covering the rebellion that's currently going on over there and all."

"Yes, I remember you telling us stories about that when you arrived here before Christmas."

"You also know how volatile the situation is over in Khurdistan, and that the country's militia don't exactly think of me as a friend of theirs, since they know I'm on the side of the rebels."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, those three Khurdistanis that were in the van accident up the street were in this country illegally - and it appears that they were here to do some kind of harm to either me or Cathy. Or both. Obviously, that has Martin and I very concerned."

"I understand, sir. I'm concerned about it too. What can I do to help?"

"Ted, Ken and I need to know if you know anything about those three Khurdistanis and their van accident," Martin interjected. "It's been reported that a teenaged boy had something to do with them crashing their van. Do you happen to know anything about that?"

Ted sat silently for a moment, clasping and unclasping his hands, his head lowered.

I can't lie to them he thought to himself. I have no choice. I have to tell them.

"Yes, I do," Ted finally confessed.

"Ted, do you know who that teenaged boy was?" Ken asked him.

"Yes. It was me."

Both Ken and Martin looked dumfounded.

"Would you please tell us what happened?" Ken asked.

"Yes. One of the Khurdistanis showed up at the front door here posing as a floral delivery man right after I dropped Cathy off after school. When Cathy opened the door he grabbed her and forced her into the van with the other men. I saw what happened from up the street. When the van sped past me I chased after it. You pretty much know the rest. I managed to get Cathy away from them. At the time I thought it was a good idea not to let anyone know what had happened, so I asked Cathy not to say anything to anyone. She wanted to tell you, but I convinced her not to. That she didn't tell you anything is entirely my fault, not hers."

"But why?" Ken asked. "Why didn't you want to tell us what happened?"

Ted hesitated. "Because I have a secret that I didn't want anyone to know," he admitted. "A secret that, if it got out, would probably change my life forever. And not for the better. But I have no choice now. I can't lie to you about what happened."

"Does that secret have something to do with how you were able to catch up to a speeding van, punch a hole in it, rip the rear doors off, and overcome three full-grown men trained in physical combat?" Martin asked him. His newspaper instincts were now operating in full gear.

"Yes. It does."

At that very moment Cathy came into the room with the package that Ken had asked her to get for him.

"Here's the aspirin you asked me to buy," she said slowly to her father, looking back and forth between him and Martin. Then she looked over at Ted, a puzzled look on her face.

"Cathy, I'm glad you're here," Ted said to her. He stood up and offered his seat to her. "I have to tell your father and your uncle something, and I want you to hear it too."

Cathy, not sure of what was going on, slowly sat down in Ted's chair. She put her package onto Martin's desk.

"Here is my story," Ted began. "You all know that I originally came from a Boys' Home located in a small town in New Mexico, and that my parents died when I was very young. Well, that's only a small part of my background. My parents were both nuclear scientists, and worked for the Atomic Energy Commission in the 1940s, after having been assistants on the Manhattan Project during World War II. During the testing of an experimental bomb in 1947 in the Nevada desert both my parents were caught outside of the protective bunkers when the bomb exploded prematurely. They took cover in a nearby ditch, and luckily they were far enough away from the bomb's epicenter so that the concussion from the explosion itself did not harm them. However, they were both exposed to the radioactive fallout from the bomb for over an hour before men in insulated suits were able to reach them and get them inside. After being medically checked, at the time they seemed to have suffered no ill effects from the radiation. But my mother became pregnant with me about one month later. Within the next 8 months the radioactive poisoning that my parents had absorbed slowly became apparent. My father died about 7 months after the explosion, in early 1948. My mother died giving birth to me a month later."

"Oh, Ted, I'm so sorry," Cathy told him. She took his hand and held it as he continued his story.

"Well, obviously, I survived. I was closely observed for many months after that for any ill effects, and the entire incident was hushed up by the U.S. government for fear of adverse publicity if the public became aware of what happened. The Commission felt that research on atomic power might be set back many years by an infuriated public should news of what happened get out. After a year, when I appeared to be perfectly healthy, I was entered into a New Mexico orphanage, since the few known relatives that I had did not want to take me in, given the circumstances of my birth and the government's interest in me. Later, when I got older, I was transferred to a nearby Boys' Home. Fortunately, for the most part I was able to live a semi-normal life growing up. As I told Patty and Cathy earlier, the New Mexico Boys' Home closed up recently because of lack of funds. That's when I was transferred to the Boys' Home here, just up the street. The director of the New Mexico Home knew the man who runs the Boys' Home here, and so he arranged to have me sent here."

Martin and Ken listened intently to Ted's discourse, as did Cathy.

"But I'm sure what you all really want to know is how I was able to do what I did to the Khurdistanis and their van," Ted continued. "Well, the circumstances surrounding my birth were finally told to me after I became a teenager. But when I hit adolescence I noticed my body beginning to change, and not just the way other kids' bodies did. My physical strength began to increase by leaps and bounds. And eventually I found out that almost nothing could hurt me or penetrate my skin. I sought out an old friend of my father's who had also worked for the Atomic Energy Commission and who lived nearby, and told him what was happening to me. He examined me, and said that when my body began to change at puberty, as most teenagers' do, my irradiated genes caused my body chemistry and my metabolism to drastically change also. My father's friend told me that my body makeup was becoming much denser than normal, because the molecules of my body were packed much closer together than a normal person's. He said that's what was increasing my physical strength and stamina, and making it harder for anything to penetrate my skin. He also said that my metabolism was speeding up at a tremendous rate too, which meant that my ability to heal if I was injured was greatly enhanced as well. My friend promised that he wouldn't tell anyone else what he had found out about me because, like me, he didn't want the government to come after me again and put me under a microscope."

Ted paused for a moment.

"That's what enabled me to catch the van, punch a hole through its roof, and tear the rear doors off as if they were paper. Do I understand all of this myself? No, not really. And what does this hold for me in the future? Will I be able to grow up normally and get married and have kids like everyone else? I don't know. I don't know what kind of genes I might pass on to my kids. These are all questions that I don't have the answers to yet. There are many things I don't have the answers too yet. I want to do what's right, but sometimes I don't know exactly what the right thing to do is. But, at the very least, I want the time to be able to figure it all out before someone else tries to make the decision for me."

"That's an amazing story, Ted," Martin told him. Ken nodded his agreement.

"Yes, and I am asking you both now to not report any of this to the public. I know you are newspapermen and all, but if the government was to become aware of the exact extent of the effect of my parents' exposure to atomic radiation on me, they would probably want to take custody of me again and consign me to a research lab somewhere, to be poked and prodded and studied like an experimental rat. That's why up to now I have never let anyone else know about my, uh, unusual abilities. I'm hoping that you will be willing to keep my secret."

Martin rubbed his forehead and thought for a moment before he began to answer.

"Ted, of course Ken and I both understand and greatly sympathize with your somewhat unusual position here," he said slowly. "And I have to confess: right now I'm not sure of what the right thing to do is either. Certainly I don't want you to be taken away by the government and treated like an impersonal research project. But I'm not at all sure what all the legal ramifications of this situation are either. After all, you are a minor. And I am the managing editor of a big city newspaper. If it's discovered later that I personally knew about this and didn't report it to either the public or the proper authorities, I could be held liable, both morally and legally."

Ted slowly nodded his head. "I understand," he responded. "And I'm sorry to put you all in a difficult situation like this."

Ted squeezed Cathy's hand. "And especially you, Cathy," he said.

Cathy's eyes started to moisten as she smiled sadly at Ted.

Martin looked at Ken. "What do you think?" he asked his brother.

"I frankly don't know how to handle this situation either," Ken replied.

Martin looked at Ted. "Suppose you let us think about this for a while, Ted," he said. "Would you be all right with that?"

Ted nodded. "Yes," he replied. "I trust both of you to come up with a fair solution to this problem. If there is one."

Martin stood up from his desk and smiled wanly. " I appreciate your confidence in us," he said. "I just hope we can live up to it."

Ken nodded his agreement.

Ted shook Martin's hand, and then shook Ken's hand also.

"Let me know what your decision is," he said. He turned and started toward the door. Cathy went over to him and took his arm, following him out of the room.

Out in the Lane foyer, Cathy said to Ted, "Let's walk," as she indicated the front door. They both put their coats on and walked outside.

Once out on the street they headed over to the ramp that led onto the Brooklyn Heights Promenade. They walked up the ramp and proceeded a ways down the Promenade, Cathy still holding on to Ted's arm. When they found an unoccupied bench about a block or so away they both sat down next to each other.

For a few minutes they just sat and stared out over the East River.

"So now you know all about me," Ted finally said, still staring out over the river. "Now you know that I'm not your average teenage boy. I'm a freak."

"No, you're not a 'freak'!" Cathy responded angrily. "You're just a decent young man who has been saddled through no fault of your own with some unusual circumstances. That doesn't make you a 'freak'. What's really important is what kind of person you are inside – and how you choose to handle your extraordinary circumstances. And so far, I think you're doing a fine job."

"What do you think your father and your uncle will decide to do about me? Do you think they'll decide to turn me over to the government?"

"I don't know," Cathy replied. "But what I do know is, I trust my father and Uncle Martin to do the right thing, whatever that is. They're both good men. They'll figure this situation out, if anyone can."

Ted smiled at Cathy.

"Cathy, you're one of the most extraordinary young ladies I've ever met," he said.

"You're pretty special yourself, Ted," Cathy told him. "And I care a lot about you."

"I care a lot about you, too, Cathy," Ted responded. "Whatever happens, I hope I'll be able to keep seeing you."

Cathy squeezed his hand tightly. "So do I," she replied.

# # #

A short while later Cathy returned to the Lane home. After she had hung up her coat her father came out of Martin's study.

"Cath, can we speak to you?" Ken said.

"Of course," Cathy replied. She went into Martin's study. Ken indicated the chair in front of Martin's desk, and Cathy sat down in it.

"We've been talking this situation over, Cathy," Martin said to Cathy. "And we've decided that we won't be reporting anything concerning Ted's background, or his extraordinary abilities, in the newspaper."

Cathy's face lit up with a big smile. "Oh, I'm so glad, Uncle Martin!" she said.

"We decided that Ted's situation is a private matter," Ken chimed in, "and it's not something the general public needs to know about. We've also decided that we won't be contacting anyone about Ted. Since we are not direct family members of his, his situation is really none of our business, and it should be up to him to decide what he wants to do. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders, and we think it should be up to him what he wants to do with his own life."

"Oh, I'm so happy to hear that!" Cathy exclaimed.

Ken and Martin looked at one another. Cathy noticed the odd look exchanged between them.

"What is it?" she asked. "Is there something else?"

"Yes, Kit-Kat, I'm afraid there is," Ken replied quietly.

Cathy suddenly felt a sense of foreboding in the midst of her happiness.

"What is it?" she asked pensively.

Ken came over to Cathy and knelt beside her, taking her hand.

"Cath, given what happened with those Khurdistani nationals coming here to try to abduct you in order to get back at me, Martin and I have agreed that the situation here is too dangerous for you right now. So I want you to come back to Europe with me. I can hide you and keep a better eye on you if you're with me, instead of leaving you exposed here."

Martin looked sadly at Cathy. "I tried to talk him out of that, Cathy, but he seems to think that this is what's best."

Cathy felt like someone had just punched her in the stomach.

END OF PART II