Why (Part One)

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing- a vast and unending void, so still with no noise and nothing that could break the silence.

Maybe every now and then a small, incomprehensible whisper could be heard, but after that silence reigned again. How such a place could exist, is unimaginable. Does it even exist? For what what is existing in the first place? But whatever the nothingness was, or whether it existed it or not, it was there.

Silence and Nothing went hand in hand to create this "place", if you could call it that. It seemed like a gap in reality, a stretch of the imagination.

It had no order, no structure. What was up and what was down was irrelevant in a place like this. But something was there, although one could not say if it was living. It was like a haze, the kind you see on a hot day. It was there, though it didn't move.

Suddenly the silence broke, by a small humming that came from somewhere near. The haze seemed to stretch, as if in answer to the humming. The humming became nearer and nearer, though you could not tell from which direction it was coming from.

Then all at once a very small, white ball appeared in front of the haze. It spun there near the haze for some time, all the while humming its monotonous buzz. Finally it spoke.

"I have come to ask you something," said the white ball. Its form spun, then stopped, then spun in another direction every time it uttered a word.

"What is it?" said the haze. Its form seemed to stretch and twist as it spoke.

"I have come to ask if you want knowledge," The white ball replied. The haze expanded.

"What is knowledge?" said the haze. It form began to swim around the white ball.

"It is something I cannot explain, and it is something you must experience for yourself," Hummed the ball. "It is something I have discovered."

"What will I gain from knowledge?" questioned the haze, still swimming around the ball. "Everything I need is here, nothing more, nothing less. Why should I want something that I do not need?"

"I am merely asking you," said the ball. "You do not have to agree. Although I have found a way to somewhere else, somewhere much different from here. I only wanted to ask if you wanted to go there."

"As I said before, everything I need is here. This place is where I am, and I want to stay and continue on as I have. Why should I care," the haze remarked, "About somewhere else?"

"They have knowledge." stated the ball. The haze began to twist into various shapes, and swam around very spontaneously, quickly moving from one part of the nothingness to another.It flew fantastically around the white ball.

"Why am I doing this?" said the haze.

"You are curious," said the ball. "I'm not sure, but it means that you want to know something, that you want to gain knowledge." The haze seemed to consider this, and began to swim very rapidly again in the nothingness. The white ball stayed still. And the humming grew louder. "There is nothing to lose. If you want to know about things beyond this place, it is waiting for you."

The haze stopped abruptly. It settled back to where it originally was, and it could hardly be seen. The only evidence of it being there is that the white ball appeared distorted because the haze was standing in front of it.

"Maybe I do."

***

Ch.2

The white ball began to glow very bright, and the haze was forcibly drawn to it.

"Then let us go," the white ball said, and the both of them rocketed off into the nothingness.
After what seemed like an eternity, the haze spotted something.

"Look over there!" it shouted. A bright light in the shape of a rectangle was off in the distance. The ball immediately headed towards it.

When they had finally reached it, the haze floated there, perplexed by what it saw.

"This is a door," said the white ball. "It is used by the creatures of the otherworld. You will go through it, that is, after we change your appearance.

"Why?" questioned the haze. "Can I not survive in this form?"

"It isn't that," answered the ball. "The creatures in the other world will not accept you unless you resemble them."

"What are the creatures exactly?" asked the haze. It already had many questions to ask.

"They are called humans," replied the ball. "They are the intelligent beings of this world, which is called Earth."

"I see," the haze said softly. "Is this the only other world?"

"I don't know," the ball admitted, "There could be more, but this is the only one I have found. But enough questions now, you must be changed."

The white ball's humming grew louder than ever. It began to give off a light, and spun very rapidly. The haze began to ball up, and soon became a mass of glowing jelly.

"What is happening to me?" said the haze.

"Wait," the ball said, it's humming getting louder still.

The jelly started to glow brighter and brighter, and when the ball spun in another direction, it began to change.
First a limb extended out of the mass, and began to take shape of an arm. The ball switched directions again, which caused a leg to protrude, while the arm's hand was being sculpted.

The ball changed directions again and again, each time a new body part being made. This process went on for quite some time, until finally the mass stopped glowing.
All that was left was a small boy, kneeling on the floor. He had brown hair and could not have looked more than seven years old. He slowly lifted his hands up, with an incredulous look on his face.
He seemed to be struggling, for he was forming strange facial expressions.

"You must open your mouth to speak," said the ball. The boy slowly opened his mouth, and then let out a cough.

"What am I?" he asked. He began to flex his fingers and move his arms, amazed at his new form.

"You are now a human boy," said the white ball. "This is how you will be during your stay on Earth."

The boy, now aware of his other limbs, stood up and wiggled his toes.
"I think I will be okay in this form," the boy said happily.

"Now open the door and go," said the ball. "On Earth you also need names to Identify yourself. From now on you will adress yourself as "Max". Anytime someone asks you your name you will respond with that."

"I understand," said Max.

Max sighed. Then he turned to the door and slowly grasped the doorknob.

"Now turn it." the ball instructed. Max then turned the knob to the left, and it opened. He stepped back to let it open fully, and then was blinded for a moment by the bright light.

Max then took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and stepped through.



Max had just stepped through the door, and was now spiraling down through white light, being blinded the entire time.

He felt as if swimming through water, and was unable to breathe. He kept falling, and began losing consiousness for his lungs were not recieving any air.

Soon the light began to fade, and an opening could be seen below Max. But he had alreadly slipped away from conciousness, and fell through the opening.

Max landed in a grass field, unconcious, but alive.

***

"Give my your best throw!" shouted Joe, a teenage boy with blonde hair. He was holding a baseball bat, ready to hit any incoming balls.

"You asked for it," his skinny friend Tim shouted back. He was fingering the baseball with his right hand, and stayed focused on Joe. "Try to hit this one!" He got ready to hurl it at Joe.

Joe was taking deep breaths to calm himself so he could focus on hitting the ball.

Okay, so I haven't hit one all day, he thought to himself, but that's not going to stop me from hitting this one.

Joe was very bad at baseball, but kept playing it everyday, insisting that sooner or later he would get better. His friends seriously doubted that, since he'd been practicing for 2 years and still hadn't improved.

Today was no different for Joe. Him and Tim had been been practicing for 3 hours now, and Joe had completely missed every shot. But Joe didn't want to give up. He'd made a promise to himself that he would make at least one shot today, which would be setting a record for him.

"I'm gonna hit it this time," he said to Tim. Joe's friend then rolled his eyes.

"Sure you are, Joe," he replied sarcastically, but then laughed. He really didn't care whether or not Joe was any good at baseball, he just liked spending time with his friend.

Tim now was ready to throw the ball. He held it firmly, pulled his arm back behind his head, and threw it with all his might.

The ball flew through the air, heading straigh for Joe. But he was ready for it.

This time I'm not gonna miss, he told himself firmly.

The ball spiraled through the air, and Joe readied his bat. He swung with all his might, closing his eyes and hoping that he would at least graze the thing. Then something strange happened. Joe felt something make contact with his bat, and it wasn't any of his body parts.

He opened his eyes, and with a gasp he saw the baseball soaring high into the air.

He had made a home run.

"WOOOOHOOOOOOOO!" he screamed, and ran across the grass to his friend Tim who was also overjoyed.

They ran up to each other and shared a big high five.

"Joe, I can't believe it, you actually hit the ball!" he exclaimed, hardly believing it. "Wait till the rest of the guys hear about this!"

"I know, It's so incredible!" cried Joe. Then Tim looked at his watch.

"Congratulations man, but I promised my mom I'd be back by three, and I'm alreadly late," he said dissapointed.

"That's okay," said Joe as his friend walked to the edge of the park and got on his bike. "Later!" Joe watched him get on it and ride away down the street.

***

Meanwhile, the ball soared way across the park, all the way to the far side of the field.

After a few moments it made contact with the floor, and began rolling.

It stopped inches from Max's head, who was still unconcious on the grass.



Joe picked up his bat and began trudging across the wet grass to find his baseball.

Usually, Joe would leave any missing baseballs behind, but since this was the only one he had ever actually hit, he wanted to keep it in his room so he could always remember his golden moment.

Seeing nothing on the grass, Joe started to check in some trees, thinking it must have gotten stuck in one of them. He moved branches aside, trying to find it, but found nothing after looking through five different trees. Joe concluded it must still be in the grass, he must have just not seen it.

Joe walked to the other side of the field hoping to find it over there.

That's when he spotted a small boy lying in the grass a few yards ahead of him. He had not seen him before because a bush had been blocking his view. Now on the other side of the field Joe could see the boy clearly.

That's weird, thought Joe, Every body's already left, what's a kid doing laying in the grass by himself?"

Curious, Joe made his way over to the boy, and spotted his baseball near him. He went over and picked it up, happy to have found it. But then he noticed the boy on the floor seemed to be sleeping.

"Hey, kid, wake up," he said to the boy. The kid didn't even stir. Joe laid his bat on the grass and bent down to shake him. He still didn't move.

Joe's heart dropped. He didn't think the boy was sleeping anymore.

Don't tell the first time I hit a ball I hurt someone!" he panicked. Joe shook him some more. He figured the kid must be unconscious. How was Joe going to explain this to his mom? He didn't think she'd be thrilled to find out he had knocked out a small boy at the park!

Joe began desperately shaking the boy again.

"Please wake up," he pleaded to the boy. Then to Joe's relief he saw the boy's eyes start to flicker open.
After opening them fully, Max was looking up at Joe's face.

Joe stepped back to give him some room. Slowly Max sat up.

"Who are you?" he asked. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, "and where am I?"

"I'm Joe," Joe replied, "And you really don't know where you are?"

"No, I don't," said Max.

"Okay then, what's your name?" asked Joe.

Max's memory flickered back to the white ball, and he knew how to respond.

"It's Max," he said.

"Well, Max, you're at the park. And where are your parents?" Joe questioned.

Max gave him a confused look. Joe thought he must have not heard him.

"I said, where are your parents?" he questioned yet again. Finally Max replied, and made Joe really panic.

"What are parents?" Max said, perplexed.

"You don't know what parents are!" said Joe, a little more fearfully than he had intended.

Oh my GOD, I gave this kid amnesia! he thought to himself. Joe had no idea what to do.

"Don't you know where you live, or what school you go to?" he said hopefully. His hopes were dashed as Max shook his head.

"I don't know about any of that, I just got here." said Max.

Great! This kid doesn't even know what he's talking about!

Joe had been so happy a few minutes earlier, but now he was stuck with a kid that didn't remember a thing about his life.

And the worst part is, thought Joe, was that he had caused it.



Kneeling next to Max, Joe had to figure out what he was going to do.

This kid must have a mom or dad, right? But then why did they leave him here? thought Joe.

It didn't make sense. Woudn't have someone came looking for him? Joe doubted a boy Max's age would be able to go out by himself. And there was no one in sight that Max could belong to.

Joe did not want to deal with this right now. But he had to.

He figured maybe he could do something to jog Max's memory.

"Max, do you remember anything at all? About today or yesterday or anything?" said Joe.

"No, I don't. Besides I already told you, I just got here," replied Max. Joe decided to play along, since he figured it was the only way he might be able to get somewhere.

"Ok, um, if you just got here, where did you come from?" Joe said.

Max thought very hard. He didn't know how to explain where he was from. He had been there all throughout his existence yet he never knew why or where exactly he was.

"I-I'm not sure," Max said. "But it's somewhere different from here."

"Like how?"questioned Joe.

Max strained for the words to describe it. He could think of none.

"I don't know," he finally admitted.

Joe gave a heavy sigh.

"I guess you'll just have to come with me then," he said. He saw no other option. He was responsible for giving Max amnesia. The least he could do was to find his family. But what if his family wanted to sue him for giving his son amnesia? After all Joe had no idea how long it would last. Days, weeks, or maybe even months.

Joe's head was swimming. He needed a drink.

"Come on, Max, let's go to that small store over there. I need a soda."

"What's a soda?" asked Max.

This is gonna be a long day, thought Joe.

"Just come on, they're good. I'll get you one, and then maybe you'll remember something." answered Joe, his spirits lifting a little.

Max thought about this.

"Alright, I'll come with you." Max thought that if he wanted to start gaining knowledge, this other boy would be the best place to start.

So Max got up and followed Max over to the other side of the street.

As they were walking Max had many questions.

"What's that on the floor." he said, gesturing below him.

"It's grass," replied Joe not taking his gaze off the mini-mart at the other side of the street. "It's a type of plant that grows in a lot of places."

"Oh. But what's a plant?" asked Max.

"It's a type of living thing, like us, except it's a different species," replied Joe.

"I see. But what are those big things over there!" Max exclaimed as he pointed to a truck.

"It's a car, Max," answered Joe. "People use it to move around to places that are too far."

"How does it move?" asked Max, fascinated.

Gosh this kid doesn't know anything! thought Joe, now realizing the full effects of amnesia.

But with another sigh he continued.

"It uses wheels, that turn around on the floor." he said. "When the wheel roll they cause forward or backward motion and the car moves. And the speed of the wheels determines the speed of the car."

"Wow." said Max.

"Well, it's not really that amazing. They're just cars." remarked Joe.

"No, not the cars." said Max. "I meant you. You must be the most intelligent guy in this whole world!"

Joe laughed.

I wish you'd tell that to my teachers.

Max really liked Joe. And his thirst for knowledge was just beginning.



Joe and Max were now headed towards a small grocery store at the other side of the street, and were now looking both ways to make sure there were no cars coming, and then Joe explained all this to Max.

Max was very confused about everything that was happening now, but was learning fast. But what he really was clueless about is why Joe was taking him with him. He had no idea that Joe thought he had given him amnesia, which was not true.

But Max just saw this as human hospitality and didn't think anything of it.

On the other hand Joe was getting out of his mind. He was dumbfounded at how he had given a small boy amnesia and could have possibly done some serious long term damage to him. He had no notion as how to explain this to anyone and was now headed to the small store to get a drink, hoping it would clear his confused mind.

Soon Joe and Max had arrived at the store and Joe opened the door to allow Max to go through.

Another door, thought Max. He then stepped through but stopped at the strange ringing noise that he heard once he had stepped inside. The same thing happened when Joe stepped through.

"Why does it make that noise?" asked Max.

Joe looked down at him and replied," it's used to tell the store owner that someone has come in."

"Wow, there must be some kind of device for every purpose." said Max.

"I guess you could say that." remarked Joe and walked over to the soda fridge after waving hi to the friendly looking asian man behind the counter. Max came up behind him and looked through the clear glass of the refridgerator.

"So these are sodas?" he questioned,"There are so many."

"Yeah, they're sodas," Joe said, "Which one do you want?"

Max gazed at all the different cans that had a lot of strange markings on them. He asked Joe about them.

"Oh, those are just words," he explained. "You use them to, uh, understand what something means. I mean, well, it's a language, actually. A way people communicate with each other without talking."

"Oh, okay" said Max, and studied them all carefully.

"Well, which one?" asked Joe. Another man had just entered the store. "I don't want to be here all day."

"Umm, I'll just have the one you get," replied Max. It didn't really make a difference to him what soda he picked, he just wanted to try one.

"Alright," said Joe and took out two orange sodas from the fridge and gave one to Max. He shuddered when he held it.

"Why is it so cold?" he asked.

"It tastes better that way," replied Joe, "trust me, you don't want a warm soda. Now come on, let's pay for them." and before Max had a chance to ask why, Joe already explained. "You need money to get things from stores. It's like trading something you want for something the other person wants." Joe then pulled out a dollar from his wallet to show Max. "I want the sodas, and the man wants this dollar. See?"

"Yes, I do," Max said, and followed Joe to the counter. Joe was about to give the asian man the money for the sodas when something strange happened.

The man's expression just seemed to freeze in place, when just a second ago he was fine.

"What's the matter?" Joe asked," you feeling alright?" He then felt Max tug on his shirt.

"Who is that man over there?" he questioned.

Joe turned around and had to stop himself from screaming.

The man that had entered the store moments ago was now standing in front of the doorway and had pulled the shades down.

He had a gun pointed at the asian man.

"Open the register," he commanded.


Joe stood frozen in his place, staring at the man with the gun. He had now concluded that his day had just gotten worse, much worse. The gunman was standing in front of the door and was now walking slowly across the store, his eyes flitting this way and that. His clothes were ragged and dirty, with a face to match.

"I said open the register," the robber repeated, gesturing with his gun. The plump looking cashier fearfully pressed a button on the register and opened it halfway, breathing nervously the whole time. The register got stuck but he wrenched it open quickly.

Max just stood there next to Joe, completely unaffected by the situation. He gazed at the gunman with interest, wondering what in the world was taking place. He noticed the strange device in his hand, and wanted to know what it was, for it seemed to be having a strange affect on Joe.

The burglar then turned to Joe, who was trembling in fear.

"You and the kid go against the wall over there and stay put," he said angrily, "that is, if you don't want a bullet through your skull."

Joe nodded feverishly and grabbed Max, walking over to the place the robber was pointing out.

"Why are you listening to him?" questioned Max.

Joe just shook his head.

"Just stay quiet," Joe whispered.

The cashier then pulled all the money from the register and put it on the counter. He backed away, whimpering and almost tripped.

"Please, just don't hurt me," he pleaded.

"Quiet down!" the gunman ordered. The asian man shut his mouth.

The gunman walked over to the counter and spread out the money. He got angry.

"21 dollars?" he said brushing some pennies aside, "are you kidding me with this?" he said, spitting on the counter

"You must have more money, right?" he said, glaring, while raising the gun to the cashier.

The cashier shook his head.

"I have no more," he whimpered.

The robber cocked his gun.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, with a menacing look in his eyes, "I'm not sure you're telling the truth."

"I have no more," he repeated, trembling.

"Are you SURE?" he asked the asian man again.

Joe stood against the wall and watched the scene in horror. But it was nothing compared to what happened next.

Max stepped forward.

"Max, stay here!" Joe whispered fiercely. But Max did not listen.

"The man said he has no more money," Max told the gunman.

Joe held his breath.

The burglar turned to Max.

"What did you say, kid?" he said angrily.

"I said the man doesn't have anymore money," repeated Max, "But Joe does," he said, pointing to Joe.

Joe just shook his head again.

What are you doing, Max! he thought.

"Oh, really?" said the gunman.

He bent down and snatched Max from the floor.

"NO!" cried Joe.

"SHUT UP!" yelled the gunman, turning his gun on him.

Joe gulped, and stayed quiet. His mind was racing, his adrenaline surging.

How am I gonna get Max outta this?

The gunman then spotted the ATM machine near Joe.

"Open that," he commanded the cashier.

"I can't open it," he said.

"I said OPEN IT!" the gunman had lost it.

Max was held by the gunman's arm, and did not know what he had done.

He then felt the icy cold end of the man's gun being pressed against the side of his head.

"OPEN IT OR THE KID DIES!" the gunman screamed.

Joe was sure this guy had gotten out of control. He needed to do something quick. Max's life was hanging in the balance.

"I told you I cannot open it!" the cashier cried, "Only the bank has the key!"

"Liar!" the gunman yelled, and pressed the gun harder into Max's head.

A new sensation now surged through Max's body. It was pain.

He watched the expressions of Joe and the asian man, not understanding that they were experiencing fear.

"What is happening, Joe?" he asked.

"Shut up!" he screamed at Max and pressed the gun harder still.

The cashier was frantic, waving his arms in the air. But then something jogged his memory. “Wait, I might have some money in my safe!” he cried. “I don’t think I took it out yesterday! Please, I will get it for you. Just don’t shoot anyone!” He then hurriedly got up and gestured to the gunman to follow him inside the back room.

“It’s about time,” the robber growled, his filthy hands squeezing Max ever more tightly, “You had better hope you didn’t take that money out.”

The cashier took this in. He nodded his head. He really did hope that he didn’t. But before going in, the gunman turned to Max once again. “You! Get up over on that wall so I can keep an eye on you!” he yelled.

Joe quickly followed instructions and went ahead of the robber and the cashier, pressing himself against the wall just inside the back room. “You stay there,” he said angrily.

Joe tried to calm down as the cashier and the gunman made their way to the far side of the room, towards a locked closet. “It is in here,” the cashier explained, breathing nervously.

Maybe the guy will just take the money and leave, thought Joe. But he didn’t believe the gunman would let them off that easy. After all, he had come in with no mask or disguise. If he left, Joe could easily give the police his description. He was ugly enough to remember, thought Joe. No, the gunman wouldn’t be leaving just like that.

But Joe shuddered to think what would happen when the robber got the money, let alone if he didn’t get it. Joe watched silently as the cashier took out his keys. Hands shaking, he managed to insert the key into the hole and turn it one-hundred and eighty degrees, unlocking it.

“Hurry it up!” yelled the gunman, making the cashier jump.

“Yes, okay,” he stammered, opening the closet door. The gunman stared intently, waiting to get the money he so wanted, while still holding the gun to Max’s temple.

Joe then noticed something on the lower shelf on the desk beside him. Something that could help get them out of this.

It was a cell phone.

Call the police! One side of him was saying.

No, you’ll get killed, you idiot! Said the other.

Joe stared at the cell phone, his insides boiling. He didn’t know what to do. He would risk his life trying to call the police. But he didn’t figure his chances were any better if he waited for the burglar to make the next move. He had to make a decision, quick. He didn’t figure the gunman’s attention would be on the safe for long.

But he had a good chance. The gunman and cashier were facing opposite him. If he was quiet enough, maybe he could get a message to the police. Blocking all thoughts, Joe pulled up every last bit of courage inside him.

He was going to do it.

The cashier was now rummaging inside the closet, under some buried papers. With painstaking care as not to make a sound, Joe bent down and closed his fingers around the cell phone. He made sure to turn the volume on the phone down all the way, so the phone would not alert the robber. He then looked back to see what the gunman was doing. He was still focused on the cashiers actions.

The cashier had found the safe, and was now turning the knob. But because his hands were shaking so violently, he couldn’t quite get the knob to stop at the right numbers. This would buy Joe some time.

He held his breath and slowly punched in the numbers 9-1-1 on the phone. It made no noise. Putting it to his ear, he heard a pleasant female voice answer him.

“Hello, this is 9-1-1, what is the problem?”

Joe raised his voice as far as he dared.

“This guy—he, the gun, and my brother—the cashier is getting the money and I—“ he said quickly, barely whispering.

“Wait, slow down,” she said. “Tell me what's happening in one complete sentence.”

Joe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. My heart must be beating a thousand time a second, he thought.

“A guy’s robbing us, and he’s got a gun, please help.” He breathed.

“We’re sending someone over, stay calm.” She reassured. Then his worst fears were realized.

“Watch out!” It was the Asian man calling to him.

As Joe turned around he felt some of his teeth come loose as his face was met with the gunman’s boot. The cell phone flew out of his hand and across the floor.

“Hello?” the woman on the phone said. There was no response.

Joe had flown back and hit the hard ground. He touched his hand to his mouth and felt the warm blood begin to flow.

Max screamed. He didn't need to know anything to figure out that this wasn't good.

Joe closed his eyes as he began to lose consciousness, and coughed up blood on the floor. A searing pain was racing through his head as Max’s scream rang in his ears. In his mind, he realized there was no hope left, he had failed. He had failed himself, the cashier, and Max.

“Hello?” the woman repeated over the line. This time she did get a response. It was a gunshot.

A gasp came from the phone, right before the line went dead.


A blue mustang pulled up into the driveway of a two story house with a biege roof. A woman inside with long brown hair took her keys out of the ignition, and accidentally dropped them on the floor. The woman was wearing a black buisness suit, and had just come home from work.

Great, she thought.

She bent down under the steering wheel and attempted to find them in the darkness. It was close to five o'clock and it was that time of year when days got dark fast. The woman thought this time of year was particularly depressing, since she loved sunshine.

Feeling around on the floor, she reminded herself that she could simply turn on the car lights. She hit her head on the steering wheel getting back up. She grasped the back of her head and groaned. She angrily clicked on the light and looked down.

Her keys were far back in the corner so she reached for them once again, now able to see clearly. She was about to pick up the keys when her cell phone started to ring, playing a Christmas tune. The woman was the kind of person who always procrastinated, and still hadn't changed her cell phone tune from Christmas, which was over three months ago.

The phone startled her so much that she hit her head on the steering wheel once again. She gritted her teeth in pain but then took a deep breath. She grabbed her keys and sat back up in her seat.

She then quickly ripped her phone out of her purse and flipped it open.

"Hello?" she asked, slightly annoyed.

"Is that how you speak to your best friend?" the voice on the line was that of another woman's.

"Oh, It's just you, Janet," The woman said, rubbing her head. "Sorry, I was just having some bad luck right now."

"Well, you're forgiven then, Molly. Now you don't have to live your life in misery because you offended the mighty Janet."

"Thanks," replied Molly, rolling her eyes, “Anyway I was just getting out of my car, and I really feel like going up to bed soon. Anything in particular you wanted to talk to me about?"

"No, not really. But can't a friend just call another friend when they want some company?"

"There's nothing on T.V, right?" replied Molly, knowing Janet all too well.

"Bingo. And I just got that new satellite hook-up! On the phone the satellite guys made it seem like I would be getting 500 good channels. You should see the crap they gave me! Have you ever heard of the stamp collecting channel?"

“Stamp collecting channel?” repeated Molly, incredulous, “That is crap.”

"Tell me about it. Gosh, I even feel like watching the news! It must be more interesting than anything else that’s on. Maybe some billionaire got robbed, that would be good for a laugh!" Janet said, snickering.

Molly got out of her car and shut the door. “Janet, I have such a headache, can we please talk some other time?” she begged.

"Come on, Molly! You are such a bore. All you do is work all day and come home exhausted. You’re lucky I’ve been your friend all these years. Loosen up a bit, for heaven’s sake! Why don’t you skip the nap and come on over?"

“I can’t, Janet. Joe should be home from the park any minute and I haven’t even prepared any dinner.” She replied.

Janet gave a snort.

"Molly, that boy of yours is fourteen. I am pretty sure he can handle making some dinner on his own. Please, Molly, we haven’t been spending any time together lately! Can’t you come over for even a half hour?"

Molly gave a sigh as she climbed up her driveway, towards her front door.

“Look, I don’t know, Janet. I mean I’m really tired, can’t we do this another time?”

"Fine, Molly, you’ve made me do it. I am watching the news. That is how bored you’ve made—OH MY GOD!" Shouted Janet.

“What is it, Janet?” questioned Molly.

"On th-the news!" she stammered, "Oh, My God, I don’t believe it!"

“Janet, just tell me what it is!” said Molly, taking out her keys to open the door.

"Molly, it’s JOE!" She screamed. Molly dropped her keys again.

“WHAT?” she yelled, “MY Joe?”

"WHO ELSE, MOLLY!" Janet shouted in reply.

“I DON’T KNOW, JANET, YOU GO OUT WITH A DIFFERENT GUY EACH WEEK, MAYBE YOU KNOW A JOE!” Molly cried.

"Calm down, Molly! Joe’s at the grocery store near the park. There’s been a robbery, and Joe was in the store! Molly!"

But Molly had stopped talking. She was already inside her car, turning on the ignition. She backed up out of her driveway, turned, and sped towards the park.



Molly drove silently in the night, headed towards the small grocery store near the park. Her mind was racing with fear and dread as she wondered what in the world could have happened to her poor Joe. She dared not think about it. All she knew was that she had to get to her son as fast as she could.

Then she heard sirens behind her.

Oh, no, the cops! I must have been speeding! she thought in worry.

But to her relief the police drove past her.....towards the park. Molly continued driving, constantly on the verge of tears. Janet kept calling her, but Molly didn't pick up the phone. Whatever Janet would tell her she would surely figure out once she reached the park.

Molly turned the last corner and was faced with police cars surrounding the grocery store. Caution tape was put all around the crime scene, and many police could be seen talking. Parking her car, Molly quickly ran up to the caution tape, when a police officer stopped her.

"Sorry, Ma'am, this is a closed crime scene, no civilians." he told her.

"But my son is in there!" she cried, "My son, Joe. Please let me go in!"

"You’re the mother?" he asked, "Well then, go on in, although it won't be pretty." The police officer saw the color drain from Molly's face.

"No, no! Your son's fine! He’s just been injured." he said hurriedly. Molly took deep breaths as she made her way to the store's entrance.

The world seemed to slow down for Molly as she opened the door to the grocery store. Many police officers looked at her as she passed, but she paid no attention. Then she saw Joe. Paramedics were loading him onto a stretcher.

Molly put her hand to her mouth and burst out in tears as she looked at Joe’s swollen, blood stained face. She ran up to the stretcher and put her head on his chest.

“Oh, Joe, what happened to you!” she exclaimed, the tears streaming down her face.

“Excuse me, Ma’am, but the boy’s unconscious.” The paramedic told her as he lightly laid a hand on her shoulder, “We’re going to take him to the hospital, and you can ride in the back with him.”

Molly tried to pull herself together. She stood up straight and wiped the tears off her face. She caressed Joe’s cheek with her hand, wondering how she could ever had let anything like this happen to her only son.

“Is he going to be all right?” she asked, choking back tears.

“Yes, after being bandaged up, and a few trips to the dentist, he’ll be right as rain,” the paramedic said with a smile.

Molly then turned back to Joe. “Who did this to him?” she said, new tears forming, but this time they were hot tears of anger.

“I don’t know, but I think the burglar is back in the other room.” The paramedic said, pointing.

“Well soon they’re gonna have a reason to put me in handcuffs,” Molly said under her breath.

No one hurts my son and gets off that easy, she thought, stomping over to the backroom of the store. An officer spotted her and quickly grabbed her arm.

“I’m sorry, you can’t go back there,” he said firmly, “There’s an investigation of the scene going on.”

“What are they investigating?” Molly said, wrenching her arm out of the policeman’s grasp, “Some guy came in and tried to rob the place. You just put him in handcuffs and the whole things over!”

She pushed her way through the other officers to the next room when she saw something gruesome. She stopped short of the entrance to the room, staring.

Police were buzzing in the room, and Molly could see a small boy huddled in the corner, being asked questions. But in the dead center of the room, the robber lay on the floor, in a pool of blood.

He had shot himself in the head.