Michael Winthrope finished up his last class of the day. He grabbed the papers he needed to grade tonight and put them in his brown leather messenger bag. He went out into the hallway of Chelsea College. He had been teaching at this school for almost five years now. He really enjoyed it. It wasn't stressful and he could be near his son. The only problem was everyone at this school was obsessed with his lack of a love life. They just didn't understand that if he couldn't have his late wife. He didn't want to be with anyone. He had gone on a couple of dates and they were awful. No other woman would be her. Dating felt like he was betraying her. He couldn't go back to who he was before her. He had a son now. What kind of example would it set for him if he brought a different woman home every night? Besides he had been miserable when he had been dating. He wasn't a young man anymore. He knew what real love felt like and that he would never find it again with anyone else and he didn't want to. Why couldn't other people understand that? All he wanted was to be left alone to raise his son in peace.

Luckily the hallways were already pretty much abandoned. There was nobody around to tell him about their single friends and relatives. Thank god. He just wanted to go watch the rest of his son's practice and go home.

Irene his grandfather's widow was on vacation in Wales. So it would just be his son and him tonight. He had given most of the staff the night off. He hated having a staff but he also didn't want to take them off the payroll and it was a big estate. They had not moved into the big house after his grandfather had died. It was more modern in the guest house and he really did hate being waited on hand and foot. Michael wanted to cook tonight and he was planning to teach his son how to make frittatas. Then maybe they could watch a western.

He went out the back door of his school. His school and his son's school shared athletic fields. They were both run by the same organization. He walked over to the soccer pitch where his son's team was practicing and found a seat.

Michael started watching his son play. His son Matty had dark hair that went just past his ears to hide a scar that was on his left ear. Matty was small for his age and really thin. It amazed Michael that his son was so small and thin because the kid ate like a horse. But his wife had been really thin too. Matty also had the same color brown eyes with gold flecks that his wife did. God, he missed her. But at least he still had a little piece of her left in their son.

Michael watched as a soccer ball went at full speed towards the net where his son was playing goalie or keeper like they called it in London. His son Matty was on the wrong side of the net. There was no way he was going to get it this time. The poor kid's perfect record was about to be broken. At least it was just practice so it wouldn't count.

But his son dove for the ball and blocked the ball with his head. That ball had hit his son's head hard. Michael was a little worried that Matty might have gotten hurt. But his son had the hugest grin on his face as he threw the ball back to his team The rest of the team was cheering for him and coming over and patting him on the back. Matty looked so happy. The coach called the practice.

Michael walked down to the pitch from the stands. His son came running up to him.

Michael grabbed Matty and hugged him, "You okay kid? That was some move."

Matty let go of him and signed to him, "Yeah, it only hurt for a second but I'm okay. I didn't think I was going to get there in time."

His dad smiled, "You were amazing. Hit the showers, kid and then we'll go home."

Matty gave him another quick hug and ran off towards the locker room.

The coach came up to him, "Mr. Winthrope. Do you have a moment?"

Michael nodded, "Sure Coach. What's up? Everything alright with Matty?"

The coach smiled, "Your son is wonderful. He's my star player. That's what I wanted to discuss with you. Some scouts from the London Academy were at the last match. They have a camp this summer for prospective students. Your boy has not let a goal in for the past two years and his grades are very good. They are willing to make an exception for his hearing and give him a tryout by inviting him to a special camp for prospective students. The camp would be for a week this summer in July. I'll give you the contact information of Mr. Sanders. You'll have to hire him an interpreter. But with his talent. I think he has a chance. Mr. Sanders thinks the fact that he's deaf will make him more appealing of a player if he's successful. They can really sell his story."

He and his son were in hiding. He wasn't sure he really wanted anyone to sell their story. But it could be alright because what kind of idiot who was in hiding would let their son do something like this. Nobody in hiding would do this so it might make them less conspicuous unless Matty actually got famous. But that wouldn't be for a few years. He minus well let his son have fun. He didn't want to hold him back.

The coach pulled out some paperwork with a business card stapled to it and handed it to Michael.

"Give them a call, Michael. I think we may have the future of the Premier League right here at Chelsea School for the Deaf."

Michael smiled, "I'll have to discuss it with him. I am sure Matty will be interested. I just want to talk to him first before I say yes. "

The coach smiled and patted his shoulder, "It is going to be a shame next year when I lose him to whatever school he goes to. Was hoping he would transfer to the Chelsea secondary school for the deaf. The current coach is leaving. I was thinking of transferring over there myself so I could be on a winning team for a couple more years. But if your boy gets into the London Academy. Well I would love to follow him over there but unfortunately I am not quite up to snuff for them."

Michael laughed, "I'm sorry, Coach. Wherever you go they will be lucky to have you. You have been very good to my son."

The coach smiled, "Well Matty has been very good to me. It really is just wonderful to win matches instead of always losing. I still may apply to the Chelsea Secondary school. I can make more money over there. Just would have been nice to be able to follow my star."

Michael was not looking forward to Matty going to a new school next year. It had been really nice that they shared a parking lot. If Matty got into the London Academy. Matty would be twenty minutes away. If he went to the Chelsea secondary school for the deaf at least that was just down the street. He knew that he was eventually going to let his son go but he really did not like Matty being out of his sight. He needed to know exactly where Matty was at all times. Irene had kept telling him that he needed to let Matty go a little. That their relationship was unhealthy.

But he was not going to deny his son any opportunities. What if Matty did become a famous soccer player one day? Would they investigate his background? Or would it actually make them safer because what kind of people in hiding would be that stupid? Matty should not be denied this opportunity. He loved soccer so much. He wasn't going to stand in his son's way.

They would worry about that when it happened. The chances that Matty became a famous soccer player one day were so slim. Michael figured they would cross that bridge when it happened. He knew Matty would love going to a soccer camp even if nothing came of it.

Matty came out of the locker room with a big smile and his rucksack. He ran up to him.
"What did the coach want, Dad?" Matty signed.

Michael smiled at his son, "Some scouts came to your last game. They have one of the most elite soccer programs for children in London. They are interested in you. They invited you to a camp this summer for prospective students."

They started walking towards his 1964 Silver Aston Martin. He put his arm around Matty's shoulder as they walked towards the car.

Matty signed to him "Isn't that a regular school though? They won't want me because I'm small and deaf."

Michael gave his son a side hug as they separated to get in the car and signed. "They don't care about that. I can hire you an interpreter. We're rich, remember? I'll give them a call as long as you want to do it."

Matty stared at him in amazement. "Really? That would be amazing."

Michael smiled, "Yeah, I told the coach I'd let him know tomorrow. That I wanted to discuss it with you first before I said yes."

"I want to. I love soccer. But won't it attract attention to us, Dad? If I were to become a famous soccer player? Maybe I should start letting some goals in occasionally."

Michael hated that his son was holding back because of them being in hiding. He did not want that for him. "I really hate that you feel like you need to hold back. You deserve an amazing life, kid. Alright? We will worry about getting found out when and if that happens. Okay? Soccer makes you happy and that's all I want for you."

He really did just want his son to be happy. Hiding in plain site was working so far. It would look less suspicious because nobody would expect him to be that dumb.

Matty smiled and signed. "Well, it might be fun to try out at the very least. They won't want me. I'm small and deaf."

They got in the car. "Yes, but you use that to your advantage kid. You love it when people underestimate you. Your mom was the same way."

They drove home. Their house was a beautiful English manor house. It was built in the 19th century. They lived in the guest house in the back of the manor house. They got out of the car.

"You ready to have me teach you how to make frittatas tonight, kid?"

Matty smiled and signed, "Yeah, sure. Those are good. You already taught me how to make them quite a few times. I'll help you make them and then we can watch one of your westerns if you want tonight, Dad. I got to pick last night. It's your turn."

His dad ruffled his hair, "You really are the greatest kid. You know that, right?"

They got to the door and Michael immediately knew something was wrong. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The door was open a little bit and it looked like the lock was broken. He normally had security for the house. But there had not been an incident at the house in years. Their head of security Sven was on vacation. Michael had a gun hidden in a plant pot outside the door.

He put an arm out to block Matty from going to the door. "Something is wrong. Stay back. Hide. Don't come out until I come tell you it's safe."

He went to a potted plant and pulled out a bag that had a gun in it.

His son had not budged, "I'm serious, kid. Go hide and you run if you need to. Find Tony or Irene if I don't come out. They will help you. Remember the emergency plan if things go sideways. I love you."

Matty looked at him with big eyes and signed, "Don't go in. We can call the authorities."

His son was too much like his mother. He needed him to move. "I love you. Now go, hide. Please."

Matty hugged him and signed, "Be careful, I love you."

Michael quietly snuck into the house with the gun drawn. He had stashed the gun in that plant almost five years ago. He hoped it still worked and wasn't rusted out. He had gotten too comfortable in London. He should have kept up on checking and cleaning the guns he had stashed around the estate.

He saw a man dressed in black with a ski mask in the foyer. The man hadn't seen him. Michael went up behind him and jumped him.

Michael got in a few good punches, and he was holding the gun on the man. When he heard a popping noise from behind him and felt a sharp pain in his right side. Then there was another pop. And he knew he had been shot at least twice.
No, he couldn't die. His son needed him. Matty was too young. The last thing he wanted was his son to be an orphan like he was. Michael had to hang on for Matty. At least he had listened to him and ran off and hid. The two men were speaking another language. Were they speaking Armenian? Then he saw Matty watching in the doorway. Of course he hadn't listened. His boy was too much like his mother. She never listened to him either.
But Matty needed to run. Michael tried to get up. He wouldn't be able to help Matty if he couldn't get up. Michael started yelling, "Run! Matty, run!"

He yelled as loud as he could. His son was deaf, but he did have a little bit of hearing in his left ear. But it had to be really loud. The men turned towards Matty. Matty was frozen just staring at Michael. Matty looked like a deer in headlights. The men started lunging for Matty. Matty seemed to snap out of his daze as the men came for him and Matty finally started to run. The two men took off after Matty out of the estate.

Michael couldn't die. Not now. He needed to hang on for his son. Michael could barely move. The last thing he wanted was his son to grow up an orphan like he had been. He had to move. He had to get to the phone. He used all his willpower to start crawling towards the phone. He got to the phone and dialed 999. But before he could speak to the dispatcher everything faded to black.

Notes:

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!
You will have to take a new chapter of a new Prodigal Son story instead of a pot of gold. Sorry;( If I actually did have a pot of gold I would share.

Next Chapter - Arlington Virgiina May 2000 (Amanda)(PI) Amanda has a bad feeling that something is wrong.