Monday, 28 February, 9:00 GMT, almost 30 years ago
The U.S. Air Force colonels held hands reassuringly as they sat patiently waiting for the next step in the adoption process. Mr. and Mrs. Martinez had been high school sweethearts back in New York, U.S.A. They both entered Syracuse University through the U.S. Air Force Reserve Officer Training Corps. The pair married two years into college and had been stationed all over the world for the past 17 years since graduation.
They had been in London, England, United Kingdom for the past five years. They were looking to retire in the next three years. But before that, both their paternal and maternal instincts kicked in. They were looking to adopt a child.
So, they sat in the office of the small London orphanage. Ana Martinez looked over the photographs of the newborn baby boy. The boy looked like any normal child; dark skin, deep blue eyes, curly black hair on the top his head. She smiled at her husband, Phillip. He smiled back.
"You know," she began softy, "If not for the blue eyes, he's the spitting image of you."
Her husband laughed. "We're finally doing this."
"Yeah," she said. He kissed her cheek.
"What should we name him?" Phillip Martinez asked.
"Phillip, Jr.?" she shrugged her shoulder.
"You think he'd like that name?" he asked. She nodded. They both blew out a breath as the door slowly opened.
The pair stood up as they welcomed the social worker with the new bundle of joy in his arms. The older gentleman smiled at the couple and gently placed the little boy into Ana's arms. Ana started to tear. Phillip touched the child's head. He smiled.
"Phillip," the new father said. The boy looked up at his new father. The new parents watched the corners of the boy's mouth turn upwards into an apparent smile.
o-o-o
Tuesday, 30 March, 23:48 EST, almost 19 years ago
The eleven year-old boy was intuitive beyond his years. He held the 50 year-old woman's hand in his small hands. He sat on a stool next to the woman's hospital bed in the New York City hospital room. His father had fallen asleep about a half hour ago. The boy had willed himself to stay awake for her.
o-o-o
The small family relocated to the New York area when the adopted boy was three years old. The newly retired U.S. Air Force colonels moved back to their New York City neighborhood where they would raise the young boy.
The first-time parents had moved back to their hometown. The neighborhood had not changed since they themselves were youngsters. The dangers of gangs and drug deals were still the routine. But the pair did everything to shield their son. They also raised him right; to respect everyone around him and to live life the right way.
The boy got on well with everyone he met. He was quick to make friends quite easily. His early childhood was a pleasant one; he got into the usual scrapes, as did many a young lad would. But all in all, the boy kept his nose clean.
o-o-o
He perked up as she stirred. He watched her blink and saw her smile at him.
"What are you still doing up, Phillip?" she said in a raspy voice.
"I wanted to hear your voice," the young boy said suppressing a yawn.
She squeezed his hand. "You're my sweet boy, Phillip. You'll watch over your father for me."
"Mom," he said, as a tear rolled down his cheek.
"I love you, Son," she said. "I only wish I could watch you grow up, graduate, get married."
"I love you, Mom," he cried. "Cancer sucks."
"Yes, it does," she said, her breath hitched. "You'll stay strong, for Daddy, okay."
"Okay, Mom," the young boy said as he heard his father grunt.
Phillip Martinez, Sr. had awoken. "Hey," the older Martinez said looking at his wife, as he put his hand on the boy's shoulder.
"You two mind each other, okay," she said taking a strained breath before shutting her eyes.
"Mom. Mom," the young boy said standing up.
Phillip Martinez, Sr. brought his son into a hug. He felt the boy tremble in his arms. "Everything is going to be alright, Son," the old man said, comforting the boy. A tear fell on the young man's shoulders as they heard the medical alarm bells blare.
o-o-o
Saturday, 10 August, 21:45 GMT, almost 16 years ago
The 6 foot 6 inch tall widower unlocked the door of the two-story London home in Chiswick. His fourteen-year old son followed behind him, dragging their luggage in through the doorway. The young man looked around the empty living room and sighed.
His father chuckled as he started to turn on the air conditioning. He nodded at his son, "It's not as bad as you're thinking it will be. The movers will be here tomorrow. We'll have furniture and everything."
The young man rolled his eyes. He removed his Adidas jacket and sat down on the carpet of the living room. He sighed again as he interlaced his fingers behind his head as he lay his 6 foot 5 inch frame on the carpet.
"Why'd we move, Dad?" the younger Martinez asked.
"It was the right time, Phillip," Phillip, Sr. said as he took a spot two meters from his son, also lying down on the carpet.
"Right time? Dad, all my friends are back in New York," Phillip, Jr. said.
"Well, moving back to London was the right move," Phillip, Sr. answered back.
"I have no connection to the U.K., Dad."
"No connection?" his father laughed as he turned his head to face him. "You were born here, Son. Your mom and I raised you in this house for the first three years of your life."
"You just wanted to move us here because you're afraid of all the drugs and gangs that I might be influenced by."
"That may be true, Phillip," his father looked him in the eye. He blew out a breath. "When we brought you home that first night, your mother and I made a pact to keep you safe always.
"When Mom died," the older man's voice wavered.
"Dad, I get it," the young man said softly nodding at his father.
His father nodded back at him. He turned to look up at the ceiling. "Why don't we get some shuteye? It was a long flight," he said yawning.
"Good night, Dad," the young man said as he, too, yawned. He shut his eyes, falling asleep.
o-o-o
Monday, 2 September, 9:00 GMT almost 16 years ago
The fourteen-year old exited the school building's Administration office after picking up his first day packet for new students. He and his father had checked in to register a week ago.
The young American had looked at the campus map, rotating it around twice in order to get his bearings. He looked up at the empty hallway. He blew out a breath, a little anxious as to the start of the school year in a new school. He started to quicken his gait to get to his first class of the day: Year 10 Biology, Building B Room 301, Professor Julian Kaiser.
The young American took a deep breath before turning the door handle as he entered the science classroom. The tall black haired bespectacled professor had just finished taking attendance. The new student handed over his paperwork.
The professor looked the tall year 10 student up and down before he nodded. "Alright, ladies and gents," the science professor called the class to attention. "Let's welcome the New York transplant, Phillip Martinez, Jr."
The whole class seemed to size up the newcomer. Phillip's ears started to flush. He blew out a silent breath.
"Alright young man, find a seat," the professor nodded at him before turning toward the Smart Board behind him, ready to start the Day One lesson.
Phillip locked eyes with the grey-eyed pony-tailed girl sitting in the front row for a moment. The young Half-blood Squib looked down at her desktop, adjusting the stack of books, averting his eyesight.
The young man walked down the center of the classroom, two desks to the right of her column of single-pupil desks. Phillip reached the rear row of desks where the proverbial cool kids sat. He nodded at them, giving the pretty blonde girl a smile before taking his seat.
The brunette Half-blood hid a sigh. Her Half-blood Squib classmate to her right hid a smile. She turned to him. He shrugged. She rolled her eyes before taking out a pen. She opened up her notebook as Professor Kaiser began his Biology lecture.
o-o-o
Monday, 2 September, 18:56 GMT almost 16 years ago
"So how was your first day?" the African-American father asked his son as he took one last gulp of his glass of water. He stood up and walked over to the sink.
"It was okay, I guess," his son answered as he, too, stood up and started to clear the dinner table.
"How were your classes?"
"They're okay."
"Make any new friends?" Phillip Martinez, Sr. asked as he started to fill up the sink with dish detergent.
"Yeah, I guess," his son answered as he placed his dishes into the sink filled with soap bubbles.
"Girlfriends?" his father joked with him.
"Ha ha, Dad," his son smirked at him.
"Well, you and that girl got into it a little during P.E." his father raised an eyebrow.
The young man mirrored his father, "That nerd? She was also in my English and Biology classes. She's really good at science."
"Well, maybe you can get some science tutoring in. You were never very good at science," his father quipped.
The younger Martinez rolled his eyes as he finished bringing all the dinner dishes to the sink. "Well, at least I beat her at basketball."
"Barely," his father grinned.
"I'm going to go watch some television now," the young man said as he could feel his ears start to grow hot.
His father watched him exit the kitchen. He smiled to himself as he turned back to the dishes.