Fancied trying my hand at a different point of view: I don't think anyone's ever used this one before. Short, but I enjoyed writing it. Enjoy and don't forget to review. Thanx.
Many thanks to Sarah Frost for Betareading this story (where would I be without her, eh?)
Disclaimer: Lets put it like this. Ace is still doing the overprotective you-are-not-going-out-there-alone thing with Sparx, Kat hasn't yet been eaten whole by Pigface, and Ace is still in love with the Spider Lady. All these are very clear indications that I do NOT own Ace Lightning. Trust me, if I did things would be very different and very strange indeed .
Ignorance is Bliss.
Scarab Dynasty.
What's that old saying again, ignorance is bliss?
To be honest I wouldn't know about that.
Perhaps it's just some old paternal instinct playing up or something, but I would really prefer to KNOW exactly what my son is up to at that carnival.
For a start they've got to be breaking some kind of health and safety laws up there, and I'm really not one to gossip but I don't much like the look of that owner. The way he wanders about that carnival looking like… I don't know what like…
Like the next person he comes across is going to pull the wool over his eyes or... play some nasty trick on him, maybe? Maybe it's a culture thing, the whole lack of trust around these places. Can't say I'm surprised. You can't even leave your rubbish bin on the doorstep without the local yobs deciding to take it for a spin.
Terrible.
What do I know about Americans, eh?
Anyhow, back to the point…
What was my point again? Ah, of course.
You know at first I thought that there was something perfectly simple going on. That we'd been letting him watch far too much of all this American television… too many videogames.
I always wondered about those computer games. It's impossible not to wonder, lately. You see all the reports about what happens to kids who get… tangled up in bizarre little fantasy worlds, racking up points for shooting and destroying things and all that nonsense. I thought that was common in England, but around here it seems as if you're hearing new stories every day. Far too often they border on both the ridiculous and the completely terrifying. I'm telling you, one minute you've got your kids stuck to a television screen and the next they're ripping up your patio, stealing your car and Lord knows what else…
Not that my son's ever done anything like that. Though I am rather suspicious about the gnome incident… Fiona really loved that ornament.
At any rate, when he started going on about superheroes and amulets and everything plus the end-of-the-world I… I suppose I assumed the logical –my son was being over influenced by the completely overpowering American culture. It's in all the psychology books.
But… superheroes? Coming out of videogames? What is this world coming to?
I mean, surely it's only natural that teenage boys are going to overuse their imagination, what with all those awful videogames and excessively violent cartoons they're throwing at them every day?
So that's just how we left it. Forgot all about it, well, tried to at least.
Only…
Well, the imagination doesn't tend to leave bruises like that.
And it doesn't tend to burn holes through your furniture either.
I suppose it's nothing to worry about, really, just… little things. Small, niggling doubts that hang around and soon add up in your head. Like "science projects" that burn clean through your doors. Like your son showing up half an hour after curfew, looking like he's been out there fighting ghosts or something…
I've seen some strange things in this country, let me tell you. Vultures in national parks, attacks on defenceless garden ornaments,kids stealing garbage… Honestly, it'd be best if you don't get me started. Some of the time it's a wonder this entire country just doesn't fall to bits around the president's ears. I tell you, things like this never happened in England.
But the way that boy goes on sometimes… Always had a flair for the dramatic, my lad. Like that time he tried to fake his way out of a few hours of detention for instance. Honestly, the way he was acting you'd think his science teacher was planning on killing him and everyone in the room.
All he needed was a little bit of elder wisdom. Fatherly guidance,I suppose, not that I mean to sound brash. Face the music, that's what I told him. Eventually a time comes along when people have to face things they'd rather not have anything to do with. And there are times when people have to DO things they might not want to have anything to do with… I'd like to think my words had made more of an impact than those silly videogames of his.
Something's had an impact on him that's for sure. Something that ends up in him having nightmares that you can hear from down the corridor and then jumping out of bed and standing staring out of windows for what feels like forever, like something's going to turn up out there that he doesn't like the look of.
Maybe I should go in sometimes and put a stop to it, but trying to wake that boy up is like trying to raise the dead as it is, and when he's dreaming it's just about impossible. Try and you'll probably only end up making things worse. He's always been that way. Doesn't much like surprises I suppose.
Besides I don't exactly think he'd appreciate it. Teenage pride and all that –we all know what it's like. We don't want parents checking up on everything we do and everything we say. I mean the straightest answer I've been able to get of him this week was as he was charging up the staircase after school. Funny that. I'd just come off the phone after a fairly heated conversation with his school teacher and before I can get a word in, the boy goes racing past me muttering something like… "Why'd he have to go and park his stupid car there today anyway? Flaming short circuits…"
Hm. No, didn't make much sense to me either.
So… normally I don't ever try to wake him up. To be totally honest I hear more from him when he's asleep. Not that what I hear then makes a great deal of sense either, sleep talking and all that.
I do remember one thing he said clearly.
He… said a name.
Well, I don't remember, really. I mean I can't exactly recall what the name was. Something rather stereotypical and… what's the word? Something French... Cliché? The kind of thing you'd expect to see in one of those fifties comic books.
I was quite the collector myself once upon a time, you know. I guess my son picked up the spirit somewhat.
So maybe that's where it all comes from? Just another of his crazy comic books.
If that's the case then you can bet I'm writing to the producers and having them take it off the market. How many more fifteen-year-old lads do they want to have yelling to wake the dead in the middle of the night?
Now that I think about it, he's probably said that name before. One of those times when I just wasn't paying any real attention. Whatever name it is it obviously means something to him. More than we'd understand.
Eventually he always wakes himself up, and then it's as if…
I know it sounds unbelievably odd, but… there's always exactly the same look on his face as I'd seen all those years ago. On the face of a kid I thought was just doing everything he could to get out of some few hours of detention.
He looked so… scared.
I suppose the more accurate term would be terrified witless. I haven't seen him look that way since we dragged him into the dentist for fillings when he was six…
Always hated the dentist that boy.
You don't ever want to see your son look at you like that, let me tell you. And you don't ever want your son to come home with a look on his face like the world's about to end and he's the only thing stood in the way of it all crumbling.
And every parent recognizes it. The "Dad-I've-got-to-say-something-but-I-don't-think-I-can" look that never amounts to anything. He looks at you like there's something he wants to tell you but he gets all tongue-tied and the words just won't come out right.
Perhaps you're wondering what I'm talking about. Silly but… you know I'm not that sure myself. All I know is that things are happening. Things I don't suppose my son wants me to know anything about.
Now I don't want you thinking that I don't believe he knows how to take care of himself, but…
Heh. There's always a but, isn't there? And when it… comes down to bruises and nightmares and disappearing every five minutes with no clues as to where he's going or whom he's with or when in blazes he'll be back or what kind of things he's going to end up dreaming about later. The kind of things I know he's probably never going to tell me about, just like I know that I probably won't ask. There are times when I get the impression that… that I'm really just nothing to do with his life or his friends or what happens to him that makes him so scared sometimes.
It's like I said, really. Even the most ordinary of us can have some extraordinary secrets…
Ignorance is bliss?
Hm. Damned worrying though, all the same.
That's it. I've never seen this POV done before so I thought it'd be… interesting…. It's subject to discussion on account of the fact that it suggests a character knows things that they probably don't. Though this guy always did come across as a reasonably intelligent (if slightly melodramatic and... goofy) character. So him "guessing" what was going on with Mark isn't actually that implausible. Hope you enjoyed that.
