CHARACTER PROFILES:
Main character: Rolex Mother: Susan Father: Carl
Prologue
The year is 2199. 20 years since the first Earth Law was placed and only 5 years since the fourth World War which broke the Earth Laws in every way. These Earth Laws were placed to the soul purpose of saving Earth itself, agreed upon and signed by all the nations of the world. But as humans tend to do, they made the mistake of believing everyone would follow these Earth laws in hopes of keeping our species alive. Scientists were long past the stages of exploring space, and were in a desperate race to find the next stable planet, or one that was would serve us as our world does.
Against the wishes of the UN, the United States of America, used an untried weapon in that later stages of war, releasing it, when it was obvious that they were already going to win. It was this final step that destroyed the last of our ozone layer allowing the harmful UV rays to enter our atmosphere and quite literally, create a medical crisis. As a result, mutations began showing up in developing children that were exposed to the rays for long periods of time - namely the street kids who had no shelter. Most of the mutations resulted in death, but there were the odd few that mutated and lived.
Chapter 1
The boy was hardly big enough to be on the team, but the Coach just ticked the name off the list and continued passing through the large group of boys, checking their names of the sign up sheet. The fact that the kid was standing alone from everyone else didn't seem to register in the coach's mind, nor how he quietly observed his joyous teammates. This was the first try-out session of the new city Metro team; the best of the best of the surrounding area.
A whistle sounded and the eager kids set off after the coach to begin the drills. Rolex followed at a more sedate pace. Jogging slowly after the gaggle of boys sprinting ahead - they were all trying to impress the coach with their speed - he knew that to start off so quickly would only result in injury. And injuries only seemed to lead to more problems in the future. He didn't want that after starting his life anew, it would only ruin what little hope he had for his future.
* * *
"I just want to warn you, Rolex is different. He's one of the many street kids we pick up and bring to the orphanage. Now don't you worry, we only take kids who haven't been affected. We also don't tolerate the ones who cause trouble."
The smiling couple linked hands. Barren, they'd decided to adopt and had come to the Agency in hopes of finding the perfect child - perfect in their eyes.
"He's a little quiet, but very brilliant as shown in his tests. And speaking of tests, we had him checked for any change in him, after all he had been living on the streets for some time, but we found him to be perfectly normal; nothing seems to be wrong with him."
The couple nodded and continued smiling.
"As for the information you need to know about him, here's a paper that covers the main points: NAME: 'Rolex' this was the name he gave to us when he came here. He refused to be called anything else.
AGE: 12
SEX: Male HERITAGE: Caucasian EDUCATION: None We find this very interesting. He's had no formal education, yet he knows things that no normal boy his age would. I suspect that it's from his life on the street. I don't know, but he'll be able to attend his grade this fall when school starts up. He's a regular genius, but his tests.they show that he's above average for his age. We just recommend that you put him in with his age."
The woman, tears standing up on spiked lashes, asked breathlessly, "Can we meet him?" As in answer to the question, a small boy stepped through the door from the adjoining room. Thin and straggly, he appeared in rough shape and in dire need of getting some flesh on his bones.
Rolex hesitantly looked up into the faces of his "to be" parents. They seemed to look nice enough, maybe more?
The man cleared his throat, but smiled. The break in the silence sent the woman into action and she immediately dropped to her knees to hug the small child.
Although Rolex didn't outwardly react or show any emotion, his heart sighed and the thought flickered through his mind, at last, someone to love, someone to fill the missing space.
The woman, turned her seat around so that she could face the lone boy in the back seat. His eyes roamed the passing scenery and it suddenly dawned on the woman that he was possibly seeing, searching for familiar things or even people. She intently watching his face, waiting for a reaction that would show some recognition, but she was sorely disappointed if she were expecting anything. She waited for long period of time for Rolex to look her way in acknowledgement, but he never did. Whether he was ignoring her or just plain oblivious, she never knew and disheartened she rotated the seat again till it was facing the front of the vehicle. Her husband glanced sympathetically her way and reached over to pat her hand. Glancing the screen showing the back seat, he flipped a switch to raise the sound barrier. Only then did he feel free to speak aloud. "He has to adjust. Just let him be for a bit."
The wife smoldered a sob with a hand, "It's just that he's so perfect. A little angel. I don't know what to do, I don't know how to be with him. I'm not a mother!" she wailed.
The man replied softly, "You'll be the perfect mother. Look at you, you're a loving person, there are none better to make into mothers."
"You serious?"
Her husband smiled softly, and replied, "Have I ever been not?"
She smiled back tremulously, "Thank you, Carl."
Rolex looked through the glass that had risen to separate him from his new parents. Immediately, he'd sensed a feeling of loss. He knew that he'd done something wrong, but he didn't know what. He saw the lady's tears and how she wiped them away quickly. A worried frown grew and he bit his lip, I don't know what to do. I'm not good enough. I don't know how to act. I've never had parents. He wanted to cry, but he had learned long ago that crying got you no where and so he didn't.
The glass rolled down and he was able to hear the sounds from the front again, but he kept his eyes facing his side window. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his mother watching him again, sniffling every now and then.
They were entering an opulent area of city where trees and lawns were finely trimmed into impeccable pieces of art. They passed a school, a small corner store, a park and finally, a soccer field. Rolex leaned forward, pressing his nose to the window to get a better look of the kids running around on the field.
For the first time, Rolex turned to face the woman, "Can I play soccer?" They were the first words he'd spoken since he'd met them.
Startled, first by the fact that her son had actually turned to look at he and second, that he spoke to her, sent Susan into tears again. She reached back and took Rolex's hand, "Of course. Anything you want."
"Rolex? What kind of name is Rolex?"
Rolex sighed, no matter where you went, people always asked the same questions.
Kids started laughing and a bold one shouted out, "Hey, this kid is named after a watch!"
Shaking his head slightly, Rolex tried to push through the crowd that had circled around him, but before he could, he sensed something coming at him from behind and quickly ducked. Whatever the flying missile had been, it hit the boy in front of Rolex squarely in the face. Everyone fell silent.
Rolex anxiously looked around him at the now glaring faces. Before they had stared at him in jest, but now. Balancing on the balls of his feet he readied himself, he could see it the face of the boy who had been hit. The kid was angry.
"You look like a scared rabbit. Cornered and stuck!"
"You're dead!"
Rolex knew how to fight. How could he have lived on the streets and not know? It was the key to survival. He'd been lucky, he had always had fast reflexes, plus he'd always been able to predict the moves of his opponents. Thinking back to his last fight, Rolex recalled how the kid he'd been up against had been half the size of the boy before him, but twice as dangerous. Kids on the street didn't fight for no reason, they fought for their lives - food.
The boy in front of him was obviously considered a tough guy, for kids immediately started cheering him on.
"Beat the crap out of the sucker!"
"Pound him!"
"Make him eat dirt, Brad."
Brad, the boy, smiled cruelly, and sneered, "Come on! Put 'em up!"
Rolex did and began circling his opponent. Out of respect of the fight to come, the onlookers backed off, but still held the circle so he couldn't escape. He wasn't going to get away without having to lay the boy a few punches. Brad swung first, but Rolex easily avoided the hit, ducking under the swinging arm. Cheers went up and they began to chant Brad's name. Again Brad jabbed out a heavy fist and again, Rolex evaded it. This continued for some time, Brad striking out, and Rolex eluding the punches. Finally, when Brad was starting to get really angry, Rolex quickly crouched down beside the larger boy and swung his leg through Brad's calves. All this happening before Brad could even comprehend what was happening. Brad fell with a heavy thud and grunted as the wind was knocked out of him. Rolex jumped on top of the kid and dealt out a couple of quick blows to render Brad unconscious. Then standing, he looked down on his pathetic adversary, there was nothing scary about Brad now. He'd been revealed; a big bully who was all mouth. Spinning on his heal, Rolex faced the quieted crowd. They gaped. In all their few years of living, they had never seen anything like this. Previously, in any fight, the two fighters would face each other and mostly yell at the other. As Rolex walked forward, they gave him a wide berth and flocked to Brad's side. Rolex had conquered.
"I don't know what to do with him!" Susan bemoaned to her husband a few weeks after the fight. "He's been in three more fights since the one incident on the first day of school!" Carl, marked his place in his book and set it aside, he wasn't going to get much further in it tonight, "Has he won?" Susan sat upright to look at her husband, "Carl, can't you be serious?!" "Well?" She lay back on her pillows, "Well if you must know, he's been laying them flat on their backs. And these are kids that are older and bigger than he is, too! I've talked to him, but he never says anything to me." Carl rolled over to face his distressed wife. This boy, though troublesome, obviously meant a lot to her. He could see it in her eyes, despite the boy's lack of affection towards her, she was beginning to love him more and more. "Perhaps another-" She cut him off and replied in a harsh tone, "Don't you even finish that thought. Rolex is just having difficulties fitting in." "But Susan, he's not fitting in here, he's not fitting in at school, does he fit anywhere but on the streets? I mean, if the shoe fits, can we force him into something that doesn't?"
Out in the hall, Rolex silently crept away from the door. He'd been on his way from the bathroom when he'd heard their voices filter through. What he heard, cut him like a knife, he couldn't help it if kids wanted to fight him. They kept at him until he struck back. He only finished them to ensure that they'd never come back to hurt him.
A tear rolled down his cheek and he touched the wetness curiously. He'd never cried before. So why was he beginning to now? He didn't want to lose this chance at love, at a family.
Susan flipped onto her side, her back to her husband, "Forget it. Forget I said anything. I'll figure a way out to get him to talk to me."
Carl reached out and began rubbing her back in small circles in hopes of relaxing her stiff form. He thought for a moment, and after a time he said quietly, "Get him into soccer. He said he wanted to play. Get him into soccer. If he proves to be a good player, then he'll earn respect from others. And hopefully open up. Get him into soccer."
Susan smiled softly. She'd been hesitant to have him join a sport where he would know no one, but now it seemed like a key to all her problems. Yes, soccer. Rolex wanted to play soccer. She curled up next to her husband and kissed him gently on the cheek. Carl just hugged her closer and closed his eyes. Content that he'd solved a problem, he was personally satisfied also. He was glad that Susan didn't want to give Rolex up. He didn't either, Rolex intrigued him.
* * * "Down for twenty!" Coach Jim hollered out and kids everywhere dropped like flies to the ground to do twenty push-ups. "Up again and another three laps around the field."
Some of the more foolish boys groaned and were rewarded with a sharp rebuke, "What? Tired already? We're not even ten minutes into this and you're tired?"
The kids shook their heads vigorously, while the others snickered. Coach Jim turned to them, "Did I say you could laugh? From this point on, you do what I say when I say. Got it? I'm not out here to waste my time with childish games. We're here to play soccer and to be the best." He pointed to a distant tree in the covered park, "Now, run to that tree and back, and then your three laps - and this time, don't sprint, take it easy like this kid here," he pointed to Rolex.
Rolex felt eyes fall upon him, but he refused to buckle; he could already hear the whispers about him circulating through the throng of kids. Brad was here, he would tell all that Rolex was a bully. He would ignore them, but a little voice inside his head screamed at him to acknowledge the stares. He needed to make friends, not enemies. This was not the street where he could possibly be staring at an enemy over food. These were sophisticated people. So he shyly smiled at some.
Fortunately, coach yelled at them to get moving before they all turned to statues.
When they returned from around the tree and the three laps, Coach Jim had already set up three drills and over the panting kids, he divided the boys into three groups.
"You've never played soccer before, have you kid?"
Rolex turned to see whom Coach Jim was talking to and was startled to find the man's insistent gaze fixed on himself. Slowly, he shook his head, uncertain of how to react. "No, sir."
Coach Jim grinned, "'Sir', I like that." He paused to rethink Rolex's answer, "Never?"
Rolex shook his head.
The man's grin doubled, "Well, no problem. Right now, I'd say you're in the best position. Moldable. You'll do, though not necessarily for this team."
Rolex wasn't sure if he liked Coach Jim or not. He'd been put into a predicament, now he had the coach's favour, but the rest of the team's scorn. He would have a star beside his name and they hated him for that, considering the fact that they hadn't even seen what he could do with a soccer ball.
The boy at the head of Rolex's line picked up the ball, looked at it thoughtfully, then tossed it forcefully at Rolex. Rolex had sensed the ball coming before he even saw it come at his chest and caught it easily.
"Let's see what you can do," other kids snickered and Rolex had the distinct feeling that he was being put to the test. He looked at the faces of the others, absorbing each of their expressions; they all added up to smugness.
"What do I have to do?"
The head boy rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion, "Can you believe this kid?" Then to Rolex, "If you'd been listening then you'd know what to do. So go on, you're up."
Rolex dropped the ball to the ground, trapping and steadying it. He rolled it around under the ball of his foot, getting the feeling of the strange toy. He'd often watched kids who'd been lucky enough to find such a treasure on the street. They'd done so much with it, now he wondered if all those hours of watching had actually come to anything. Glancing at the other two groups beginning to work through there drills, Rolex incorporated their moves to mind.
Whispers behind him finally broke through his thoughts, "Is he stupid?"
Rolex smiled to himself and tapped the ball forward with his left foot and dribbled through the set up cones perfectly, as if he were a natural, then back again.
The boy who'd first challenged him began laughing, "Whoa! This kid figured it out! Dribbling through the cones, with an extra flare I might add. All those whirls and fakes." His voice hardened, and he bit out as if he were talking to an idiot, "Geez. You make a simple drill look like something ten times harder! Dribble through the cones, simple as pie."
The boy shook his head and took the ball from Rolex's feet and began in earnest dribbling through the cones at a quick pace - faster than Rolex, faster than most kids. But Rolex wasn't worried, he knew that it was the other boy who was worried. Worried that Rolex could easily be as good as him.
The boy, who'd given Rolex a tough time, watched the new kid indifferently, but whenever he thought no one was looking, he'd watch Rolex. This Rolex was an enigma to him. A person of obvious talent, such as his, always boasted of it, but Rolex didn't.
Tony shook his head, he didn't need this kind of distraction.
Coach Jim's whistle sounded loud over the indoor field, motioning for the boys to gather round where he stood. He shouted to the boys lagging behind at the back to run faster, adding a threatening or else to it. A common enough threat, by Rolex's mind; it was when they actually put words and ideas to those threats that you had to worry. An empty threat meant an empty head and weak person - a show of bravado, nothing else. But the threat worked and the boys raced each other in.
Coach Jim launched into verbal instructions of what was to be done for the next half-hour or so. During this time Rolex observed which boys sucked up to the coach by pretending they understood his complex words and which busied themselves with poking one another or playing with shoelaces. It was while Coach Jim grabbed a ball and demonstrated the drill, that Rolex kept his back unintentionally to him.
The coach noticed this and barked out, "Rolex, get up here and let's see what you can do!"
Rolex turned to face the angry coach, he was obviously being goaded into saying that he hadn't seen what had been done, but he merely smirked and stood, jogged over to where Coach Jim stood with the ball. Rolex's smirk grew into a genuine grin, the coach didn't know that Rolex had always been aware of his surroundings, didn't know that Rolex had been following the drill all along.
Looking at the laid out cones and accessories, and the awaiting goalie standing in net. Rolex set the ball on the ground and bounced on his toes a few times, then he launched himself into the drill. Kicking an accurate pass to the flipped over bench, he quickly stepped through the ladder lain on the ground, received the ball that had bounced off the bench. Then stopping the ball, he sprinted to the two cones laid out and back to the ball, after which he dribbled through the cones, and finally took a hard shot at net. The ball flew fast and true past the goalie and into the upper right corner.
Rolex heard the cheers of the boys, his future teammates, and felt a bursting sensation. He'd never had had recognition of this sort before, it was a new experience for him and he beamed, his grin splitting his face and spreading to the others as he neared. The only one who didn't smile back was Tony, but Rolex didn't care, he'd soften him up later.
Coach Jim couldn't help but gawk slightly. Here he'd been certain that Rolex had not been paying attention, and instead had him prove to be paying more attention than he thought. He shook his head, not only that, Rolex had proven to be an excellent soccer player despite never having played before. He walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder, he couldn't find anything to say to fault him and just said that he'd done a good job.
That night over dinner, the Robinson's ate in their usual silence, the only sound was the clink of the cutlery hit the plate now and then, but then out of the blue, Rolex blurted out, "Soccer is great! I think I'm earning the respect of some of the guys."
Susan started violently at his unusual outbreak and accidentally knocked over her glass of water, but she ignored this and clung to every word that came out of Rolex's mouth. He had a youthful voice, melodic in his animation, "It's such an amazing sport! I've never played before, but I love it. I can't wait for the next trial night to come."
Carl grinned slightly and wiped his mouth on his napkin, Rolex's meal left untouched as he continued on and on about his trials. For a boy who never had said anything before, he sure had saved it up. Carl stood and took away the other two's plates, knowing that they wouldn't eat.
Resting her chin on her hands, Susan openly cried as her adopted son bled his thoughts freely. But as all good things do, the moment came to an end and Rolex yawned widely. "Well I've got to go to bed, g'night."
Susan reached over to hug him, but Rolex was faster than her and evaded her grasp, he wasn't ready for that yet. He did allow Carl's pat on the shoulder as he walked by. Once beyond sight of his new parents, Rolex sighed. He felt like a great burden had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders, or conscious, and he felt livelier than he had for months.
Main character: Rolex Mother: Susan Father: Carl
Prologue
The year is 2199. 20 years since the first Earth Law was placed and only 5 years since the fourth World War which broke the Earth Laws in every way. These Earth Laws were placed to the soul purpose of saving Earth itself, agreed upon and signed by all the nations of the world. But as humans tend to do, they made the mistake of believing everyone would follow these Earth laws in hopes of keeping our species alive. Scientists were long past the stages of exploring space, and were in a desperate race to find the next stable planet, or one that was would serve us as our world does.
Against the wishes of the UN, the United States of America, used an untried weapon in that later stages of war, releasing it, when it was obvious that they were already going to win. It was this final step that destroyed the last of our ozone layer allowing the harmful UV rays to enter our atmosphere and quite literally, create a medical crisis. As a result, mutations began showing up in developing children that were exposed to the rays for long periods of time - namely the street kids who had no shelter. Most of the mutations resulted in death, but there were the odd few that mutated and lived.
Chapter 1
The boy was hardly big enough to be on the team, but the Coach just ticked the name off the list and continued passing through the large group of boys, checking their names of the sign up sheet. The fact that the kid was standing alone from everyone else didn't seem to register in the coach's mind, nor how he quietly observed his joyous teammates. This was the first try-out session of the new city Metro team; the best of the best of the surrounding area.
A whistle sounded and the eager kids set off after the coach to begin the drills. Rolex followed at a more sedate pace. Jogging slowly after the gaggle of boys sprinting ahead - they were all trying to impress the coach with their speed - he knew that to start off so quickly would only result in injury. And injuries only seemed to lead to more problems in the future. He didn't want that after starting his life anew, it would only ruin what little hope he had for his future.
* * *
"I just want to warn you, Rolex is different. He's one of the many street kids we pick up and bring to the orphanage. Now don't you worry, we only take kids who haven't been affected. We also don't tolerate the ones who cause trouble."
The smiling couple linked hands. Barren, they'd decided to adopt and had come to the Agency in hopes of finding the perfect child - perfect in their eyes.
"He's a little quiet, but very brilliant as shown in his tests. And speaking of tests, we had him checked for any change in him, after all he had been living on the streets for some time, but we found him to be perfectly normal; nothing seems to be wrong with him."
The couple nodded and continued smiling.
"As for the information you need to know about him, here's a paper that covers the main points: NAME: 'Rolex' this was the name he gave to us when he came here. He refused to be called anything else.
AGE: 12
SEX: Male HERITAGE: Caucasian EDUCATION: None We find this very interesting. He's had no formal education, yet he knows things that no normal boy his age would. I suspect that it's from his life on the street. I don't know, but he'll be able to attend his grade this fall when school starts up. He's a regular genius, but his tests.they show that he's above average for his age. We just recommend that you put him in with his age."
The woman, tears standing up on spiked lashes, asked breathlessly, "Can we meet him?" As in answer to the question, a small boy stepped through the door from the adjoining room. Thin and straggly, he appeared in rough shape and in dire need of getting some flesh on his bones.
Rolex hesitantly looked up into the faces of his "to be" parents. They seemed to look nice enough, maybe more?
The man cleared his throat, but smiled. The break in the silence sent the woman into action and she immediately dropped to her knees to hug the small child.
Although Rolex didn't outwardly react or show any emotion, his heart sighed and the thought flickered through his mind, at last, someone to love, someone to fill the missing space.
The woman, turned her seat around so that she could face the lone boy in the back seat. His eyes roamed the passing scenery and it suddenly dawned on the woman that he was possibly seeing, searching for familiar things or even people. She intently watching his face, waiting for a reaction that would show some recognition, but she was sorely disappointed if she were expecting anything. She waited for long period of time for Rolex to look her way in acknowledgement, but he never did. Whether he was ignoring her or just plain oblivious, she never knew and disheartened she rotated the seat again till it was facing the front of the vehicle. Her husband glanced sympathetically her way and reached over to pat her hand. Glancing the screen showing the back seat, he flipped a switch to raise the sound barrier. Only then did he feel free to speak aloud. "He has to adjust. Just let him be for a bit."
The wife smoldered a sob with a hand, "It's just that he's so perfect. A little angel. I don't know what to do, I don't know how to be with him. I'm not a mother!" she wailed.
The man replied softly, "You'll be the perfect mother. Look at you, you're a loving person, there are none better to make into mothers."
"You serious?"
Her husband smiled softly, and replied, "Have I ever been not?"
She smiled back tremulously, "Thank you, Carl."
Rolex looked through the glass that had risen to separate him from his new parents. Immediately, he'd sensed a feeling of loss. He knew that he'd done something wrong, but he didn't know what. He saw the lady's tears and how she wiped them away quickly. A worried frown grew and he bit his lip, I don't know what to do. I'm not good enough. I don't know how to act. I've never had parents. He wanted to cry, but he had learned long ago that crying got you no where and so he didn't.
The glass rolled down and he was able to hear the sounds from the front again, but he kept his eyes facing his side window. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his mother watching him again, sniffling every now and then.
They were entering an opulent area of city where trees and lawns were finely trimmed into impeccable pieces of art. They passed a school, a small corner store, a park and finally, a soccer field. Rolex leaned forward, pressing his nose to the window to get a better look of the kids running around on the field.
For the first time, Rolex turned to face the woman, "Can I play soccer?" They were the first words he'd spoken since he'd met them.
Startled, first by the fact that her son had actually turned to look at he and second, that he spoke to her, sent Susan into tears again. She reached back and took Rolex's hand, "Of course. Anything you want."
"Rolex? What kind of name is Rolex?"
Rolex sighed, no matter where you went, people always asked the same questions.
Kids started laughing and a bold one shouted out, "Hey, this kid is named after a watch!"
Shaking his head slightly, Rolex tried to push through the crowd that had circled around him, but before he could, he sensed something coming at him from behind and quickly ducked. Whatever the flying missile had been, it hit the boy in front of Rolex squarely in the face. Everyone fell silent.
Rolex anxiously looked around him at the now glaring faces. Before they had stared at him in jest, but now. Balancing on the balls of his feet he readied himself, he could see it the face of the boy who had been hit. The kid was angry.
"You look like a scared rabbit. Cornered and stuck!"
"You're dead!"
Rolex knew how to fight. How could he have lived on the streets and not know? It was the key to survival. He'd been lucky, he had always had fast reflexes, plus he'd always been able to predict the moves of his opponents. Thinking back to his last fight, Rolex recalled how the kid he'd been up against had been half the size of the boy before him, but twice as dangerous. Kids on the street didn't fight for no reason, they fought for their lives - food.
The boy in front of him was obviously considered a tough guy, for kids immediately started cheering him on.
"Beat the crap out of the sucker!"
"Pound him!"
"Make him eat dirt, Brad."
Brad, the boy, smiled cruelly, and sneered, "Come on! Put 'em up!"
Rolex did and began circling his opponent. Out of respect of the fight to come, the onlookers backed off, but still held the circle so he couldn't escape. He wasn't going to get away without having to lay the boy a few punches. Brad swung first, but Rolex easily avoided the hit, ducking under the swinging arm. Cheers went up and they began to chant Brad's name. Again Brad jabbed out a heavy fist and again, Rolex evaded it. This continued for some time, Brad striking out, and Rolex eluding the punches. Finally, when Brad was starting to get really angry, Rolex quickly crouched down beside the larger boy and swung his leg through Brad's calves. All this happening before Brad could even comprehend what was happening. Brad fell with a heavy thud and grunted as the wind was knocked out of him. Rolex jumped on top of the kid and dealt out a couple of quick blows to render Brad unconscious. Then standing, he looked down on his pathetic adversary, there was nothing scary about Brad now. He'd been revealed; a big bully who was all mouth. Spinning on his heal, Rolex faced the quieted crowd. They gaped. In all their few years of living, they had never seen anything like this. Previously, in any fight, the two fighters would face each other and mostly yell at the other. As Rolex walked forward, they gave him a wide berth and flocked to Brad's side. Rolex had conquered.
"I don't know what to do with him!" Susan bemoaned to her husband a few weeks after the fight. "He's been in three more fights since the one incident on the first day of school!" Carl, marked his place in his book and set it aside, he wasn't going to get much further in it tonight, "Has he won?" Susan sat upright to look at her husband, "Carl, can't you be serious?!" "Well?" She lay back on her pillows, "Well if you must know, he's been laying them flat on their backs. And these are kids that are older and bigger than he is, too! I've talked to him, but he never says anything to me." Carl rolled over to face his distressed wife. This boy, though troublesome, obviously meant a lot to her. He could see it in her eyes, despite the boy's lack of affection towards her, she was beginning to love him more and more. "Perhaps another-" She cut him off and replied in a harsh tone, "Don't you even finish that thought. Rolex is just having difficulties fitting in." "But Susan, he's not fitting in here, he's not fitting in at school, does he fit anywhere but on the streets? I mean, if the shoe fits, can we force him into something that doesn't?"
Out in the hall, Rolex silently crept away from the door. He'd been on his way from the bathroom when he'd heard their voices filter through. What he heard, cut him like a knife, he couldn't help it if kids wanted to fight him. They kept at him until he struck back. He only finished them to ensure that they'd never come back to hurt him.
A tear rolled down his cheek and he touched the wetness curiously. He'd never cried before. So why was he beginning to now? He didn't want to lose this chance at love, at a family.
Susan flipped onto her side, her back to her husband, "Forget it. Forget I said anything. I'll figure a way out to get him to talk to me."
Carl reached out and began rubbing her back in small circles in hopes of relaxing her stiff form. He thought for a moment, and after a time he said quietly, "Get him into soccer. He said he wanted to play. Get him into soccer. If he proves to be a good player, then he'll earn respect from others. And hopefully open up. Get him into soccer."
Susan smiled softly. She'd been hesitant to have him join a sport where he would know no one, but now it seemed like a key to all her problems. Yes, soccer. Rolex wanted to play soccer. She curled up next to her husband and kissed him gently on the cheek. Carl just hugged her closer and closed his eyes. Content that he'd solved a problem, he was personally satisfied also. He was glad that Susan didn't want to give Rolex up. He didn't either, Rolex intrigued him.
* * * "Down for twenty!" Coach Jim hollered out and kids everywhere dropped like flies to the ground to do twenty push-ups. "Up again and another three laps around the field."
Some of the more foolish boys groaned and were rewarded with a sharp rebuke, "What? Tired already? We're not even ten minutes into this and you're tired?"
The kids shook their heads vigorously, while the others snickered. Coach Jim turned to them, "Did I say you could laugh? From this point on, you do what I say when I say. Got it? I'm not out here to waste my time with childish games. We're here to play soccer and to be the best." He pointed to a distant tree in the covered park, "Now, run to that tree and back, and then your three laps - and this time, don't sprint, take it easy like this kid here," he pointed to Rolex.
Rolex felt eyes fall upon him, but he refused to buckle; he could already hear the whispers about him circulating through the throng of kids. Brad was here, he would tell all that Rolex was a bully. He would ignore them, but a little voice inside his head screamed at him to acknowledge the stares. He needed to make friends, not enemies. This was not the street where he could possibly be staring at an enemy over food. These were sophisticated people. So he shyly smiled at some.
Fortunately, coach yelled at them to get moving before they all turned to statues.
When they returned from around the tree and the three laps, Coach Jim had already set up three drills and over the panting kids, he divided the boys into three groups.
"You've never played soccer before, have you kid?"
Rolex turned to see whom Coach Jim was talking to and was startled to find the man's insistent gaze fixed on himself. Slowly, he shook his head, uncertain of how to react. "No, sir."
Coach Jim grinned, "'Sir', I like that." He paused to rethink Rolex's answer, "Never?"
Rolex shook his head.
The man's grin doubled, "Well, no problem. Right now, I'd say you're in the best position. Moldable. You'll do, though not necessarily for this team."
Rolex wasn't sure if he liked Coach Jim or not. He'd been put into a predicament, now he had the coach's favour, but the rest of the team's scorn. He would have a star beside his name and they hated him for that, considering the fact that they hadn't even seen what he could do with a soccer ball.
The boy at the head of Rolex's line picked up the ball, looked at it thoughtfully, then tossed it forcefully at Rolex. Rolex had sensed the ball coming before he even saw it come at his chest and caught it easily.
"Let's see what you can do," other kids snickered and Rolex had the distinct feeling that he was being put to the test. He looked at the faces of the others, absorbing each of their expressions; they all added up to smugness.
"What do I have to do?"
The head boy rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion, "Can you believe this kid?" Then to Rolex, "If you'd been listening then you'd know what to do. So go on, you're up."
Rolex dropped the ball to the ground, trapping and steadying it. He rolled it around under the ball of his foot, getting the feeling of the strange toy. He'd often watched kids who'd been lucky enough to find such a treasure on the street. They'd done so much with it, now he wondered if all those hours of watching had actually come to anything. Glancing at the other two groups beginning to work through there drills, Rolex incorporated their moves to mind.
Whispers behind him finally broke through his thoughts, "Is he stupid?"
Rolex smiled to himself and tapped the ball forward with his left foot and dribbled through the set up cones perfectly, as if he were a natural, then back again.
The boy who'd first challenged him began laughing, "Whoa! This kid figured it out! Dribbling through the cones, with an extra flare I might add. All those whirls and fakes." His voice hardened, and he bit out as if he were talking to an idiot, "Geez. You make a simple drill look like something ten times harder! Dribble through the cones, simple as pie."
The boy shook his head and took the ball from Rolex's feet and began in earnest dribbling through the cones at a quick pace - faster than Rolex, faster than most kids. But Rolex wasn't worried, he knew that it was the other boy who was worried. Worried that Rolex could easily be as good as him.
The boy, who'd given Rolex a tough time, watched the new kid indifferently, but whenever he thought no one was looking, he'd watch Rolex. This Rolex was an enigma to him. A person of obvious talent, such as his, always boasted of it, but Rolex didn't.
Tony shook his head, he didn't need this kind of distraction.
Coach Jim's whistle sounded loud over the indoor field, motioning for the boys to gather round where he stood. He shouted to the boys lagging behind at the back to run faster, adding a threatening or else to it. A common enough threat, by Rolex's mind; it was when they actually put words and ideas to those threats that you had to worry. An empty threat meant an empty head and weak person - a show of bravado, nothing else. But the threat worked and the boys raced each other in.
Coach Jim launched into verbal instructions of what was to be done for the next half-hour or so. During this time Rolex observed which boys sucked up to the coach by pretending they understood his complex words and which busied themselves with poking one another or playing with shoelaces. It was while Coach Jim grabbed a ball and demonstrated the drill, that Rolex kept his back unintentionally to him.
The coach noticed this and barked out, "Rolex, get up here and let's see what you can do!"
Rolex turned to face the angry coach, he was obviously being goaded into saying that he hadn't seen what had been done, but he merely smirked and stood, jogged over to where Coach Jim stood with the ball. Rolex's smirk grew into a genuine grin, the coach didn't know that Rolex had always been aware of his surroundings, didn't know that Rolex had been following the drill all along.
Looking at the laid out cones and accessories, and the awaiting goalie standing in net. Rolex set the ball on the ground and bounced on his toes a few times, then he launched himself into the drill. Kicking an accurate pass to the flipped over bench, he quickly stepped through the ladder lain on the ground, received the ball that had bounced off the bench. Then stopping the ball, he sprinted to the two cones laid out and back to the ball, after which he dribbled through the cones, and finally took a hard shot at net. The ball flew fast and true past the goalie and into the upper right corner.
Rolex heard the cheers of the boys, his future teammates, and felt a bursting sensation. He'd never had had recognition of this sort before, it was a new experience for him and he beamed, his grin splitting his face and spreading to the others as he neared. The only one who didn't smile back was Tony, but Rolex didn't care, he'd soften him up later.
Coach Jim couldn't help but gawk slightly. Here he'd been certain that Rolex had not been paying attention, and instead had him prove to be paying more attention than he thought. He shook his head, not only that, Rolex had proven to be an excellent soccer player despite never having played before. He walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder, he couldn't find anything to say to fault him and just said that he'd done a good job.
That night over dinner, the Robinson's ate in their usual silence, the only sound was the clink of the cutlery hit the plate now and then, but then out of the blue, Rolex blurted out, "Soccer is great! I think I'm earning the respect of some of the guys."
Susan started violently at his unusual outbreak and accidentally knocked over her glass of water, but she ignored this and clung to every word that came out of Rolex's mouth. He had a youthful voice, melodic in his animation, "It's such an amazing sport! I've never played before, but I love it. I can't wait for the next trial night to come."
Carl grinned slightly and wiped his mouth on his napkin, Rolex's meal left untouched as he continued on and on about his trials. For a boy who never had said anything before, he sure had saved it up. Carl stood and took away the other two's plates, knowing that they wouldn't eat.
Resting her chin on her hands, Susan openly cried as her adopted son bled his thoughts freely. But as all good things do, the moment came to an end and Rolex yawned widely. "Well I've got to go to bed, g'night."
Susan reached over to hug him, but Rolex was faster than her and evaded her grasp, he wasn't ready for that yet. He did allow Carl's pat on the shoulder as he walked by. Once beyond sight of his new parents, Rolex sighed. He felt like a great burden had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders, or conscious, and he felt livelier than he had for months.