An arrogant boy needs to learn some lessons... And to regain a spirit that had died within him...

My entry in the Reader Retention contest.

CHAPTER 64
That removed any traces of darkness from the table, Frank explaining what he had said as Deb sat chuckling.

“All I actually said, in Welsh, was that you will have to learn it. My family, or what’s left of them, are first language, so they will expect no less. Some of the courtesies, anyway. Rhod?”

“Yes, mister?”

Terence Campbell apparated in front of his house. The November winds were tugging at his gown. From outside, he could make out the light shining through the green curtains behind the windows in the living room on the ground floor. Apart from that, the small house lingered in nocturnal darkness.

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

The summer had been horrible for Rick. He was even more depressed and frustrated than ever. His mother was a nurse, and earned decent money but his father’s falling off the wagon had put a massive strain on the mother-son relationship. Karen was totally pissed off at Frank and that disgust overflowed to Rick. She shut down every and any habits and actions that would be considered masculine. When she discovered evidence of his male puberty maturation she went nuts. The next day, a month before the end of the school year, she gave him an injection, followed by another every week.

Perfectly Reasonable

I was just about to turn in when when I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

I slipped on my robe, and opened it to see my brother Arthur standing there in just a towel.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.

“I need your help, Gwen” he said.

Yes, I’m Guinevere, or just Gwen. Our parents thought that would be cute.

Finale, the decision

Anthony is forced to confront the consequences of his revenge and he finds that perhaps he has made a massive mistake. Only one thing can correct that mistake ... an Angel of Mercy!

“Hi, Mom, Well I know you said to cool it but.” She pulls out a zip lock bag with what turns out to be a home pregnancy test. It shows positive.

Shocked I don't know what to say, “OH, my god. I'm going to be a grandma.” I smile ear to ear.

Composing myself. “Anymore these are pretty accurate” indicating the home test. I ask the normal questions, We figure the baby is due Aug 21st.

“Have you told Kelsey yet?”

“No, I am going to wait till Christmas.”

Smiling, “ She will be so excited. Let's see how the little one is doing.”

No one dressed in such a definitively girly way could possibly be a boy, could they?

In the fall Earl started preschool. The hoped for socialization with age-mates failed to materialize. He steadfastly refused to play with the girls or do anything that might earn him the much dreaded label of ‘sissy’. At the same time he didn’t enjoy typical boy activities and play. While he half-heartedly played with the boys, he did so angrily which usually degenerated into violence. The violence discouraged the boys from wanting to play with him and Earl wound up in time outs. As had become his normal, he never smiled or laughed and it seemed as if his face was frozen in a demi-frown. He would answer questions and even asked questions, but for the most part he was intensely quiet. By the end of the second week, he’d earned the enmity of the other boys and the frustrations of the teachers and aides. They did discover that he seemed happiest, at least relatively compared to his normal anger, if he was allowed to be alone. At least while alone he stayed out of trouble. With no one willing to play with him, when they went outside for free time play, Earl simply ran around the playground. As the weeks passed, he incorporated jumping and tumbling over the outdoor toys developing a style of kiddie-parkour. The teachers were concerned as he leapt and tumbled about the playground but he never cried or complained when he landed hard. They were more concerned some of the other boys would try to copy him but Earl’s dour demeanor kept others from following his lead.