"All great literature is one of two stories; a man goes on a journey or a stranger comes to town."
― Leo Tolstoy
"Leave me alone, you little Cocksucker!" Eugene was irritated. He needed time to be alone, and the woods were the best place he could find the solace he needed to think his thoughts through without distraction. He had to come up with a plan.
"Whoa. So, it is all an act." Carl laughed heartily. "You are really good playing the role of mentally challenged."
Eugene didn't wait until the slow clap ceased when he shouted again, "Fuck off!"
"Fuck off?"
"Scram, kid."
"What would the Sunday school teacher think if she knew this was all an act?"
"What makes you think she doesn't know?" Eugene challenged back the baseless threat. "You have been in this community for less than three months."
Carl shrugged at the point Eugene made. It wasn't relevant to what he wanted to know about the fantastical story Eugene began to tell everyone in Sunday School class. At the same time, Michonne was perpetually distracted by his Dad, who hadn't been in attendance for weeks but had time enough to seek her out instead of God.
"How do you know my Dad?" Carl's curiosity was piqued.
"I know everything." It was a burden Eugene carried and with no apparent need to hide it from others because there was an element of disbelief that kept him cloaked by most of the adults. At random, Eugene would speak about his abilities that he harnessed from extensive reading and learning to a captive audience of church youth. He hoped that one day his story would be passed along to future generations as were individual books in the bible.
"How?"
"I am the voice in the mirror. I am the random surge of energy that reaches and stretches across the globe. I am the difference between being in total darkness. Hence, solar panels. I have the know-how to spread disease and famine. I can cure the incurable. What I can't handle is an asshole kid who is determined to undermine what isn't meant for him due to having the wrong birth mother. Not your father's fault, of course. He was young. He thought he knew it all. Took one look at your mother and thought he had to be the one to rescue the poor damsel stolen away to some birthing camp. Wouldn't listen to his father. Your Dad had his rings removed in defiance to his father's wishes that he remain intact. He was meant, designed, cursed, blessed, betrothed to marry someone he hadn't met until now. Your father chose to defy his father as you continually choose not to obey him. A path paved straight to hell. The Badlands."
"The Badlands?"
"I told your grandfather to allow them to meet. If he had, I believe there would never have been you as you know yourself right now to be. Your mother has caused you to have a weak link to greatness. Greatness will elude you. Your future siblings will have a firm foothold."
"Future siblings? The kid, my mom, has inside of her isn't my Dad's."
"Your father will take his rightful wife once he figures out what to do with the old wife."
"New wife?"
"The one he was to marry he will marry. They shared the same rings. He will see and understand why his father wanted him to wait. It will be on his fingertips-."
"Carl?"
Eugene was relieved that Carl had stopped following him, distracted by the female voice summoning him. If ever Eugene was grateful to anyone, it was to Enid.
Enid caught up to Carl, who had turned to stop for her to catch up. "What are you doing out here? This far?" Enid asked.
"Talking to Eugene," Carl turned to where the Sunday School Assistant no longer stood. Where once a clear path ahead became unpassable with the number of thorny vines protruding the surrounding area forward.
