The making of an Astute Man
Jack gave a grin as a wad of cash was thrust in his direction. He always marvelled at how much people would pay for a measly exam paper, in only a few months he'd become a successful businessman on the school campus. The prospect of moving to a new school hadn't impressed him much when his parents had told him they were moving because of his father's job. However, this new schools computer system seemed to be even more flawed than his old schools. It had only taken a week to hack into the system and make some headway. Within weeks, it had gotten round that the new kid had easy access to exam papers and would supply them for a small fee.
Soon enough the bullying had fallen to a minimum, who cared if the kid had a slight lisp and dyed his hair bright red just for fun. He was a genius at computing and knew how to change grades with a push of a button. Jack was careful, knew how to stay under the radar of the teachers, but put himself out there as the go to man for anyone in need of help with their tech.
His parents both worked long hours, so he'd gotten used to being a loner from an early age. The move to a different sector meant it was easier to get downtown and weekends were spent at the mall browsing the computer shop for any new programs and gadgets. The owner knew him by name and usually they had a chat as they discussed the pros and cons of various new concepts being designed. Jack had ambitions to be a programmer himself and lost himself in his work as he worked out designs and kinks on self-improvements he made to his own computer.
The sweep of the virus across the world seemed to take him by surprise. Crept up on him unawares. He spent so much time on his own he didn't realise how serious his mother being ill was. It had started as a little cough, she hadn't complained and Jack hadn't asked. Her taking time off work had surprised him, but the surprise had been replaced by the finding out that the new English Language exam papers had been loaded onto the school computers. He'd made fifty dollars that week as word got round and kids bought their way through their exams.
When his mother didn't return to work he'd been curious enough to ask what was going on. After all, his mother had returned to work when he was three, a woman who loved her career and thrived to build on her achievements'. She'd told him she'd decided to work from home for a time and he'd thought nothing more of it. Jack lived in a secluded world, coming home from school, straight to his room, computer whirring, gadgets and gizmos ready to be tinkered with. That the world was slowly decaying around him simply didn't sink in until it was too late.
He had few friends, companions, geeks and nerds whom he could have intellectual conversations with. So the fact that their parents were very sick, dying even didn't filter through when he was considering how to make his computer run faster, or how to create more memory, or how much money he'd need to buy the latest program from the store.
It was when he arrived home one day to find his father sitting on the stairs, head in his hands, that he felt something shift. Jack couldn't hide his surprise, after all his dad worked until the dark hours of evening. The most Jack saw of his father during the week was when he was rushing out of the kitchen, a bagel in hand to beat the morning traffic, or walking from his car after he'd pulled in onto the driveway late at night.
"Dad?" He'd mumbled, eyeing the man carefully.
He felt awkward, his father was in his path, and usually he was in through the front door and up the stairs before the door closed shut behind him.
"Jack." His father had said in equal surprise, as if not expecting him to walk through the door.
Jack hovered, unsure where to move. Access upstairs was out; perhaps he'd go and make himself a sandwich instead. Setting his bag by the stairs to pick up later he started moving toward the kitchen before his father stopped him.
"Jack, we need to talk." His father started, stopping him before he could leave. "It's your mother."
Jack paused and eyed him. His parents had been evasive like this when they'd planned moving the last time. Only it had been his mother carefully explaining that the were leaving to come here. Jack wondered if that was why she'd been working from home, planning to move to a new job, getting everything settled and organised. With a roll of his eyes, he thought about the idea of moving again. Having to settle into a new school, deal with the usual bullying that came with being the new kid. He had a good deal here, made good money, stayed out of trouble.
"We're not moving again," he groaned with a sigh. "We've only just settled here, I thought mom was happy where she is now."
"We're not moving anywhere Jack," his father replied.
The man was pale, eyes lined with black shadows of restlessness and worry. He looked at his son concerned, wondering how he'd cope in a new world. He was a man who worked with numbers; he knew the statistics and statistics said that kids weren't affected by the virus sweeping the world. He still couldn't decide whether that was a good or bad thing. To know his son would survive. Knowing his son would survive alone. For the first time in a long time, he took in his son who looked at him like he was a stranger. There was something lacking between them, a bond that had never really formed. Jack kept himself to himself, just like his parents. He'd tried hard, worked hard to give his family a good life. They wanted for nothing, owned the house, two cars, vacationed twice a year. Yet for all of it, he'd sacrificed so much, including a relationship with his son and now it was too late to make amends for it. Still he found himself reaching out to the boy, a hand on his shoulder as he told him the news.
"Your mother," he faltered, there was a nightmare currently ripping the world to shreds and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Sucking in a breath and looking his son in the eyes, he told him the truth, straight and to the point as they'd always spoken. "Your mother's dead son."
In the days that followed, Jack had moved as if in limbo. Suddenly the world around him became a bigger place, a place dangerously crumbling into something he couldn't recognise. He didn't return to school and his father stayed home from work. He didn't go to the mall or tinker with his computer. Instead, they sat together, watched the news together and waited for the world to end. As the weeks passed Jack learned about who his father was, he learned more in those weeks than he had in his lifetime. His dad asked him about his interests and Jack found himself confiding to his dad about his business ventures. After all, if the world was ending, what did it matter if he told his old man about his illegal school activities? At least he wasn't doing drugs he pointed out.
His father had smiled and marvelled at his capabilities, slightly guilty at being proud at his son's business achievements. It gave him hope that in the new world, Jack would be able to stand on his own two feet and cope with whatever the outcome. When calls came for evacuation, his father allowed him to make his own decision. Stay or go it was up to him. Jack decided to stay; being locked up in some facility with other kids didn't enthral him entirely. He'd rather spend time with his father in his final days.
It was an ordinary day when his father died. Outside the sun was shining, a slight breeze on the air. Summer was fast approaching and Jack noted that soon the school term would be coming to an end. If school had still been in session. The schools had closed down long ago. There was a numbness Jack chose to envelop himself in, much like the first days of school when he had to endure the name-calling, the prodding and berating. Closing himself off so he didn't have to feel, or acknowledge anything but himself and his own small world he lived in.
He packed a large rucksack with essentials; he and his father had discussed at length things, which would be of value when the world ended. Though he couldn't carry around his entire computer, he stripped it of parts, circuit boards and wires. He stocked up on batteries, torches; things he knew would be handy when it came to bargaining and trading. He knew that money no longer held any use; other things were now of value and Jack liked to be prepared.
Leaving home, he already knew where he was planning to go, the mall. Stock up there and after that who knew what would happen. The new world had begun and he was determined to be ready for it.