1992
Stone Canyon
Smack! The sound reverberated through the room. Adam gasped against the pain. His father's face swam into view.
"Now you won't forget, you little bastard," he slurred. With a jolt Adam realised he was drunk. Sober was bad, but drunk? That was a real-life nightmare. Smack! The twelve-year-old scrunched up his face to hold away the pain and fire as long as he could.
Adam struggled to climb onto his bed. This had been the worst time yet, and he had gone through some pretty rough beatings. He winced as he touched a particularly painful spot. He lifted his shirt. Horrendous didn't do an accurate description of the bruises that covered the twelve-year-olds stomach. You could barely see what colour his skin was supposed to be, with all the dark purple/black/green coloured bruises. He replaced it with a sigh. Adam stood up with some difficulty and headed towards the bathroom. He regretted nothing of what he was about to do. He picked up his pocketknife that he had bought just for this and smiled coldly.
Aisha started at the person who was wheeled in next. First it was Rocky, now a kid who looked not a day over thirteen. What was it with this ward and kids? This boy looked like he was Asian, with dark hair and tan skin. She poked Rocky in the side.
"Neeaarrggg," Rocky grunted, opening his eyes. "What? This had better be good."
"What do you reckon he's in for?" Aisha asked, nodding towards the new bed.
"How should I know?" Rocky asked sarcastically. 'I'll just read his mind, shall I?"
"That would be nice," she affirmed.
The bed remained as an item of curiosity for two long weeks. The person in it didn't stir, didn't move, and the only change it brought to the ward was more nurses, more doctors, and Aisha constantly asking Rocky if he knew who it was yet. Two weeks, three days and six hours after he was brought in, Adam cracked his eyes open a degree. He was staring at a pristine white wall. For a moment he was confused. His house didn't have white walls. The memory of what he had done abruptly came rushing back. His midnight-black eyes suddenly filled with tears. Why hadn't it worked? Adam's thoughts were halted as a nurse came in.
"So you're awake. How're you feeling, luv?" she asked. "You gave us all quite a scare."
"I'm fine," he replied, wondering what exactly had happened.
The nurse seemed to read his mind, as she said, "A neighbour found you and dialled 911. If he had been a few minutes later we wouldn't be speaking." She gave him a smile. "I'll leave you to rest. There's some other kids in this ward, so you could play with them if you get bored." He gave her a half-hearted smile as she left. Adam gazed around for the first time as he realised he wasn't in a private room, mostly filled with older people, although there was a familiar-looking boy probably a year or two older than him with a broken leg in the bed next to him. My dad wouldn't pay for a private room anyway. I'm surprised that he's paying for a public one he thought grimly. His thoughts were again interrupted as a blue-coated doctor came in. It was obvious this was a doctor as this guy had a badge saying 'Dr. Eric Swanson.'
"Hello Adam. I'm Dr. Swanson," he introduced himself.
"I gathered."
"I'm a psychiatrist, meaning I help people with their feelings and emotions."
Adam looked him up and down before responding. "I'm not a child. I know what a psychiatrist is and what they do," he said calmly, if not with a cold edge to his voice. The doctor looked up as if seeing the ward for the first time, then he swiftly drew the curtains.
Rocky opened his eyes all the way. What the heck did that kid do so he had to have a psychiatrist? He grinned as he spotted Aisha coming into the room.
"Hey," he greeted. "The kid woke up."
"Hey yourself. Sweet. You found out who the kid is?" she asked.
Rocky scrunched up his face, trying to remember. "His first name is Adam," he recalled.
Aisha looked thoughtful, and then suddenly her face brightened. "Adam! Remember? Back in year six?"
1989
Stone Canyon
The young Adam Park looked nervously into the room. He was nine years old, and was starting year six. He looked doubtfully at the principal. She smiled at him reassuringly before knocking on the wall. The teacher looked up from where she was, leaning over and checking a boy's work.
"Good morning Principal Chaplain," she said brightly. Adam felt the lady next to him smile.
"This is Adam. He is joining your class," the principal told the teacher. The teacher walked over and bent slightly to see him better.
"Hey Adam," she said. "I'm Miss Heiner. Why don't you come up to the front?" Adam followed her robotically. The teacher clapped to get everyone's attention. "Everyone, this is Adam." She pointed towards a spare seat between a black girl and a short-haired boy. "Take a seat." Adam walked towards the desk, aware of many pairs of eyes watching him. He slid into his chair, thankful that he wasn't the centre of attention any more. The girl next to him smiled, and he felt a jolt in his stomach. The only kids that had smiled at him were the ones who teased him later. He stared straight ahead, and out of the corner of his eye noticed the girl shrugging at the boy. Great. A partnership.
Adam looked back as he turned into his street. Those two kids were following him, and it was driving him nuts. Yeah, he didn't like being picked on or bashed up, but he'd rather face it sooner than later. If they were going to clobber him, he wished that they'd hurry up. He noticed another pair of kids coming down the street. These two boys he knew were the school 'official' bullies. Even being there for one day, he picked up the rumour that they would beat anyone up, even the popular people. Thankfully they hadn't noticed him. He turned on his heel and walked quickly back down the street. He heard a yell; obviously the pair of boys had seen him. He started running for the park he knew was only half a block away.
"Did you hear that?" Rocky DeSantos asked.
"That yell? Of course I did," Aisha Campbell responded. She pointed up ahead. "Look!" The new boy was running towards the park.
"Oh great," Rocky groaned. When Aisha shot him a glance, he hastened to explain. "Pinky and the Brain are following him." Aisha knew who he was talking about straight away. Pinky and the Brain were two bullies who beat up anyone. Luckily, Rocky and Aisha's self-defence skills had warded them off so far.
"Come on!" Aisha called, already a third of a block away. Rocky rolled his eyes and followed.
"He went this way!" the larger of the two called, pointing in entirely the wrong direction.
"No Pinky, he went this way. You can see his shoe marks," the smaller explained with the strained patience of one who had done this many times before. He indicated the scuffs in the dirt. Pinky shrugged and followed him. Adam sighed in relief, safely in the top branches of a tree, as they moved away. He tensed again as two more people came into that part of the park.
"You know Aisha, you are dead if we get caught," the boy told her. The girl smiled.
"How will I die?" she asked cheekily.
"Slowly and painfully, if I have anything to say about it," her friend muttered. Adam wondered idly if she was his 'girl', since it seemed that the grade sixes were already picking out suitable 'girlfriends' and 'boyfriends'. A sound disrupted his thoughts; evidently Pinky and his smarter friend were coming back.
"Where the ^*&# should we hide?" Aisha demanded.
The boy quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. "Shut up!" he hissed. "They'll hear you!"
Adam took pity. At least if he moved house yet again they would know the best hiding spot to get away from idiots. "Hey!" he hissed. "Up here!" The two kids below him looked around bemusedly. "Up! Look up!" They finally looked up. Their expressions mirrored each other, disbelief and surprise. "Get up here!" They quickly climbed the tree as footsteps started getting louder.
"Where did they go?" the other asked. The other shrugged. "Well, since we can't find them, it's going to be your brother who pays the price." They walked off, still in argument over who to beat up next. Adam slid down the tree as he heard the thud of feet fading. The other two echoed his movements, though admittedly sliding down more carefully and slowly. He checked to see if Pinky and Co. were coming back. "They're gone," Adam reported.
"Thank you," Rocky said, holding out a hand. Adam stared as if he had never shook hands before. He looked backwards, and when Rocky was starting to feel awkward, he turned back and grasped it firmly. "I'm Rocky, and she's Aisha," Rocky introduced. Adam nodded, and started walking away.
1992
Stone Canyon
"He saved our butts, remember?" Aisha asked. "Then he moved away about three days later." She had just finished speaking when the curtain around Adam's bed was drawn back and the psychiatrist walked out, his mouth in a tight line. Rocky looked back and to his amazement found Adam grinning widely.
"Oh, that was fun," he chuckled to himself. He glanced over Rocky's way. "Hi."
"Are you Adam Park?" Aisha asked curiously.
"Yeah. Unless someone stole my name." Adam looked at them closer. "Rocky and Aisha, right?"
"Yeah. By the way, thanks for the tip. Saved us a lot of hassles in year seven and so on," Aisha said.
"No problem." Adam halted his speech as another blue-coated psychiatrist walked into the room.
"Well, Adam."
"Well, Dr. Tran," he replied, having read the nametag on his shirt.
"Any reason why you need another psychiatrist?" he asked. Adam shrugged.
"Counsellors don't do anything," he responded dryly. The man studied him for a minute and then unexpectedly smiled.
"No, counsellors don't," he agreed. "How old are you, Adam?"
"I'll be thirteen in February." Rocky was surprised; while Adam had been in his class he was the top student. Now finding out that he was almost two years younger was a humbling experience.
"Very cynical for your age aren't you?" he commented.
"Being cynical is what keeps me sane," he replied.
Dr. Tran lost his smile. "Do you think you are?" he questioned seriously. Adam blinked.
"Do I think I'm what?"
"Sane." Rocky quietly drew a breath. What kind of psychiatrist asked a teenager…no, a kid…that kind of question?
"Am I sane?" Adam mused aloud. "I'm about as sane as anyone else. Do I look sane?" he answered.
"Everyone in a mental institution looks sane," Dr. Tran replied. He headed for the door. He paused. "By the way," he called over his shoulder. "Your parents are coming up in an hour."
"My dad," Adam corrected. He asked nervously, "Exactly an hour?"
The shrink looked surprised. "About an hour, yeah," he confirmed. He looked seriously at Adam. "What's the matter?"
Rocky looked back at Adam's face. He realised with a shock that the expression on his face was like a mask, or like it was painted on. He looked closer and recognised a flurry of emotion underneath the boy's facade.
"Nothing," Adam said quickly. The doctor looked at him seriously before leaving out the open door. Rocky and Aisha asked Adam a couple of questions; until he made it obvious that he didn't feel like talking.
Dr. Tran walked into the ward with a feeling of trepidation. Adam Park was like no one he had ever counselled before. The boy was sarcastic, cynical, consciously gave him the run-around, and, as an extra twist, was extraordinarily polite. Dr, Tran frowned. He wasn't extremely polite during their first session. Dr. Tran backtracked through his memory, trying to find what had made him defensive.
"How old are you, Adam?"
"I'll be thirteen in February."
"Very cynical for your age aren't you?" he commented.
"Being cynical is what keeps me sane," he replied.
Dr. Tran lost his smile. "Do you think you are?" he questioned seriously. Adam blinked.
"Do I think I'm what?"
"Sane."
"Am I sane?" Adam mused aloud. "I'm about as sane as anyone else. Do I look sane?" he answered.
"Everyone in a mental institution looks sane," Dr. Tran replied. He headed for the door. He paused. "By the way," he called over his shoulder. "Your parents are coming up in an hour."
"My dad," Adam corrected. He asked nervously, "Exactly an hour?"
The shrink looked surprised. "About an hour, yeah," he confirmed. He looked seriously at Adam. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," Adam said quickly.
Dr. Tran quickly drew a breath. His father! He ran down to Psychiatrics.
"Adam Park," he said urgently. "When the ambulance was called, did the paramedics do a standard check of his welfare?"
The nurse at the desk gave him a puzzled look. "Adam Park?" she repeated. She started rifling through the papers on her desk. She handed him a thick manila folder. He walked to his small office on the third floor. If what he was thinking was true, it had the just grounds for a major police investigation. The papers spilled onto his desk, and he started searching through for the admittance form. It came attached to a few colour photographs, and he was almost sick as he saw them.
Adam looked at the wall-clock. Half-past four, and still Dr. Tran hadn't come. He wouldn't admit it to anybody, but Dr. Tran coming was certainly one of the highlights of his day and he enjoyed them. As much as was possible while still being cooped up in a hospital, fed things that looked like they belonged on close-up pictures of a Barbie doll's food, and the only things he could do to amuse himself was watching television and talking to Rocky. The two had become firm friends, and although he didn't know Aisha that well, she had already invited him to a party after they both got out. Dr. Tran finally burst into the room and he smiled.
"Hi."
"Adam, why didn't you tell me…" Dr. Tran looked up and saw Rocky asleep in his bed. He lowered his voice. "Why didn't you tell me your father abused you?" Adam looked startled.
"Abused me?" he echoed. Dr. Tran nodded and waited for a denial. It never came. Adam looked thoughtful. "How did you know?" he asked instead.
"When you came in, the paramedics and doctors saw your bruises. They assumed that you inflicted them on yourself, but a simple law of physics and relativity says that you can't hit yourself that hard."
"Yeah, he hits me." The simple admission shook the man harder than an hour's worth of protests would have.
"Why haven't you told anyone?" he asked.
"I know where I'm going every night," he shrugged. "It's a lot better than being out in the street."
Dr. Tran exhaled. "You wouldn't be on the streets," he told the kid.
"I'd run away." The expression that came onto the boy's features was a mix of fear, hatred, disgust and determination. "I'd end up dead before I lived in a home or got shuttled off to foster homes every second week."
"What? Dead?" Dr. Tran asked unable to get past what the kid was saying. Adam gave a non-committal shrug.
"I'd do what I did to get in here. And," he gave Dr. Tran a look that said he wasn't joking, "This time I wouldn't fail."
One month later Adam was out. Out of hospital, out of Dr. Tran's therapy sessions, out of his dad's care. He wasn't sure which one he was less happy about. Out of hospital meant facing the real world. Dr. Tran had become one of the storybook images of a father, a substitute father for the screwball drunk his was. And out of his dad's care meant his home was nowhere. As he had told Dr. Tran, he wanted to know where he was going. This thirteen year old wanted to…he didn't know what he wanted. Adam scuffed his feet on the concrete underneath his feet. He was heading to Rocky's, then a new foster home. Yippie-yiy-yay.
Present
Angel Grove
One year after that, back being hit by my dad. Time to apologise to someone. Adam walked quickly to the payphone near where he was standing, just metres from the gates into the park. He pushed in his money and waited for the operator. "Elliott Tran," he told the woman. He leant against the glass walls of the telephone box until he heard a faint click.
"Dr. Tran?" he inquired.
"Yes, who's speaking?" the voice asked. Adam could just imagine the man standing in his office, studying some patient's files while he talked.
"You probably don't remember me," he began. "Does the name Adam Park mean anything to you?"
"Adam? Is that you? What has it been…almost three years? How are you doing?" he asked enthusiastically.
"Yeah it's me. I'm doing good. Actually," Adam drew a deep breath. "That's sort of why I'm calling. I know I was probably one of the worst patients you ever had…but I just want to thank you for trying to get through."
"It's my job, Adam," Dr. Tran replied. "But do me a favour? If you're around here, pop in for a visit."
Adam laughed. "I will," he promised. Adam shot a glance over his shoulder. He had had the feeling that someone was watching him, and a glance told him that the rest of the Rangers were walking to him. "Thanks again," he said cheerfully into the receiver as the other five approached. "Bye!" He hung up before Dr. Tran could reply.
"Hey!" His best friend grinned at him. "Who you talking to?" he asked.
"A friend, Rocky," he answered.
"Come on," Tommy said, motioning to the nearby cliffs.
"You coming, Adam?" Aisha asked.
He nodded and fell to the back of the group. Sorry, Dr. Tran. I won't be able to make it anytime soon.
The blade was sharp, sharp enough to cut skin. Adam looked at the black handle of the pocketknife, and saw it glint in the light. This was the same one he had used in his last attempt, the one that landed him in hospital. This one won't he told himself. The edge flashed as he held it on his wrist. With one cut, blood swelled around the knife and slowly dripped onto the bathroom floor. He raised his hand, letting the blood flow into the bath and down the drain. With his last conscious thought running through his head, he grabbed his communicator, morpher and a piece of written-on paper from the table next to him. He tied the morpher to the other small invention and hit a button. The last thing him saw before all went dark was a bright flash of black/grey light.
Sorry Zordon. Sorry Alpha. Sorry guys…
Although not sentient, the Mastodon Power Morpher had certain self-preserving capabilities, like when its Ranger died it would automatically teleport to the main headquarters of its Ranger. The only other ways a morpher could be separated from its owner was if the owner sent it away on purpose or if it was deliberately taken. The morpher landed on the floor of the Command Centre. If the occupants were there, it might have been discovered. As it was, Zordon was meditating and Alpha was in a recharge. So it stayed, the communicator hanging useless next to it. Beside the two was half a sheet of paper, written on in black ink, the last thing Adam Park wrote.
'Sorry guys, I couldn't do it anymore. Rocky and Aisha, I know you were dying (no pun intended) to find out what I was doing in that hospital. Well, this isn't my first try, I'll tell you that. Oh, yeah, if my dad comes to my funeral, can all of you punch him in the nose, mouth, nether regions etc. for me as a last wish? Thanks in advance. Okay, messages for everyone.
Kim - Hold on to Tommy. You're a great gymnast, and I expect you to win a gold medal at the Olympics.
Billy - Go, whiz kid! Do me a favour and find Trini, even if it's at my funeral, otherwise I'll come back and haunt you.
Tommy - Don't feel guilty about not seeing this happening. I know you, and you'll go on a major guilt-trip. Hold on to Kim; she's a great girl.
Rocky - Man, if I could do this without hurting you, believe me, I would. Buddy, keep smiling and joking (on second thought, no one deserves your jokes J ).
Aisha - Ask Rocky out. For God's sakes, you've taken long enough. In your words of two years ago, 'I saved your butts'. Come on, you owe me!
Dad - You're an asshole, a bastard, a son-of-a-bitch, a screwball, a drunk and anything else my friends call you. Hopefully the five punches coming your way will hurt as much as five punches did from you, a strong thirty-five-year-old man, to me, a defenceless child. The lawyer can't save you now.
Dr. Tran - I'm sorry I couldn't visit you before this happened. Again, thank you for trying to get through.
Guys, I love all of you, and I sincerely apologise for putting you through this.
Adam Park, (1980-1995)'
In a flash of bluish-grey light, Billy appeared. Noticing neither Alpha or Zordon were active, he smiled faintly and stepped over to one of the consoles lining the small circular area in the Command Centre. As he did, his foot scuffed something and the Blue Ranger looked down. He picked up the items, and read the note. Two words escaped his mouth before he disappeared.
"Oh crap."