Chapter 2
Disagreements
I
Henry sat in the back of English, daydreaming about the tree. He had gone to look at the tree every day. Something about it called to him. He had dreams about tasting that one lone fruit, in his dreams he could even taste it. The cool crispness of the flesh, the tartness of the skin, and the feel of the ice-cold juices running down his chin were all very vivid to him. There was also something very strange going on with the statue. It moved. Sometimes it was in different places, it was almost always under the tree reading a book, one time it was sitting on the steps, and once it was even gone. Henry’s mother had one of those concrete ducks that she moved around and put in outfits, he wondered if the person who lived there did the same with their statue. It was awfully big to be moving around the yard though. Maybe that was why it moved so seldom.
He was jolted out of his revere by Britney in the seat in front of him poking him with a stack of paper. “Hey you in there?” she giggled.
“Yeah, I’m here, I’m here.” Henry said looking down at the paper. “What is this?” he asked. She looked at him a moment, a strange look on her face. Henry became very self-conscious. “What, what’s the matter? Did I drool or something?” he asked reaching up to wipe off his face.
“No, nothing like that, its just you have really pretty eyes, they’re really blue.” Her statement startled Henry. He had been told his eyes were a nice blue before, but by his aunt or sister, a real girl had never complimented him before. Especially this girl, Britney rarely spoke to him unless absolutely necessary, and even then it was limited to exchanging papers for grading.
“Thanks” he mumbled. She turned around and began working. Henry looked down realizing he still didn’t know what Britney had given him. The moment had been so surreal he had forgotten all about it. “Britney, what is this?” he whispered. The rest of the class was already quietly working.
“Quiz,” this time she did not turn around but whispered the one word over her shoulder.
Henry looked down and quickly discovered he had not been paying nearly enough attention in class over the last week, because the quiz on his desk may just as well have been written in Latin. Henry worked right up until the moment his teacher Mr. Harris a large sweaty man with thinning hair, collected the quiz. Immediately he felt embarrassed by his performance.
He looked out the window and smiled. It was snowing again. It had really been coming down over the last hour and most of the ground was already under a couple of inches. Henry loved when it snowed, not because he liked snow, but because it decreased the likelihood of getting beat up on the way home. The days when it was warm and sunny had been some of the worst of his life. When the temperature was warm the snow began to melt leaving lots of icy puddles. Paul and Victor enjoyed knocking him down, taking his things and dropping them in the water. He hated fishing his stuff out of the icy water. His hands always hurt the rest of way home. It had gotten so bad; sometimes he would get two of the important assignments; fold one up, and put it in his pocket. This way he had a better chance of getting it home safely. Henry knew from experience, however, that there were worse things then having his stuff dropped in the water; having his body pushed in for example.
There was a section of road the city dug up to fix a pipe that burst in the cold. It had been filled in with gravel so the road could be reopened, but the city was waiting until warm weather to actually repave it. When the weather had gotten briefly warm the snow started melting, and collecting in the low spot in the road. One day not long after, he was being chased when one of them tripped him and he flew face first into the water. He had torn his hands up pretty badly on the gravel when he tried to break his fall. As if being soaked was not enough, they took turns kicking him in the ribs until he begged them to stop through his tears. Eventually they got scared that someone would hear him, and ran away calling him a baby as they went. It was one of the most shameful days of his life. His shame further compounded by the lies he told to his mom about how he had gotten wet.
The snow would make for a nice walk home, after the lousy afternoon it was nice to see his luck was changing. The bell rang and Henry headed for his locker. He packed his things and out the front entrance. He gave only a cursory glance left and right to check for obstacles. Henry was happy to be free of school for another day and headed to the garden feeling pretty good about his day. He saw an odd shadow near the memorial, but when it didn’t move he continued on his way. He decided to jog to the garden so he could have more time.
The first couple days after finding the garden he had been late getting home. His mother was a nurse, and if he wasn’t home before she left for the hospital, he was in trouble when his father got home. His father punished him by taking away his computer, and books. This meant he had to spend the evening sitting in his room doing nothing, or sitting in the living room watching television with his father. He did not object to spending the time with his father. He objected to what his father watched. His father spent all night watching bad cop shows from the 50’s, and 60’s; shows like Dragnet and Hawaii 50. This would not have been so bad, but his father got up early for work, and had a labor-intensive job. This meant he actually spent more time dozing, and snoring in his chair, than he did watching. To put a cherry on top of the sundae that was his misery, he would wake up and ask questions.
“Who’s that? Why are they arresting that guy? What’s going on?”
Henry didn’t even want to watch the show. He wanted to narrate it even less. So in order to avoid this odious punishment he had started jogging to the garden so he could spend a few more minutes there before heading home.
Henry spent every afternoon standing at the gate looking in at the tree. On the second day he noticed a plaque on the arch that was engraved with the words “For Nathan”. Henry was a lonely kid, and began talking to the statue. He had nicknamed it Nathan after the plaque on the gate. Henry told himself he was crazy now, but the first time he addressed the statue by name, he could have swore it looked up from the book in his hands, and made eye contact with him. He rubbed the snow out of his eyes, and looked again, but the statue was looking at his book, just as he had been. Henry always felt better after talking to the statue, like it was listening to him. The fact that sometimes it was in a different place only reinforced this illusion. It was kind of like having a friend. Henry was talking with Nathan about his abysmal performance on his English quiz, when the sound of someone speaking startled him.
Henry’s stomach dropped. He recognized the voice immediately. He was shocked to hear Paul’s voice here of all places. So shocked that that he didn’t actually hear what he was saying. His mind was reeling, how had he found me. Henry thought of the shadow he had seen at the memorial and immediately regretted dismissing it. They must have followed him, but why? Paul was rarely angry enough to actively look for him let along stalk him. Why did it have to be here of all places? It was the only place Henry felt vaguely happy in weeks. He realized that Paul was talking, and he still had no idea what he was saying.
“I said, what are you staring at in there, weirdo?” Paul said. Victor laughed next to him. Paul shoved Henry into the gate, hard enough to rattle the teeth in his skull. Henry went to run, but Victor grabbed him by the straps of his pack, and slammed him into the gate again. Victor held onto each strap of Henry’s pack up near the shoulder. He stuck his face in Henry’s. He got so close; Henry thought he was going to bite him on the nose.
“I think she’s right, he does have really pretty eyes,” Victor said chuckling. Henry didn’t think it was possible, but his stomach dropped even further. Now he knew, knew why they had gone to all of the trouble of hunting him in weather like this. With the quiz, and the snow, it had slipped his mind. Brittney’s compliment, while nice, and unexpected had very likely signed his death warrant.
Victor let go of Henry’s backpack, and Paul took his place. For a minute Paul just stared int
o Henry’s eyes. Looking back into Paul’s eyes, Henry became truly scared. There was something more intense in them, than he had seen before. Henry realized he was not sure he would be able to walk away from this encounter with all of his bones intact. Henry was brought sharply back to reality by three quick blows. Two blows to the head, and one to the body. Paul’s father had been teaching them how to box in the basement, much to the dismay of Henry’s body, which had turned in to Paul’s favorite practice bag. Henry tried in vain to run, but was again blocked by Victor.
“Hold him” Paul yelled. “I’m going to kill this freak.” He hit Henry hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Henry doubled over, unable to breathe, tears already starting to run down his cheek. He needed to find a way out of this, and fast, or there really was a chance things would go to far.
“Stand him back up” Paul yelled. Victor grabbed him; Victor went to slam him into the gate again. Henry put his hands back to try to slow down the tooth rattling impact. All of a sudden instead of a bone-rattling crunch, he felt himself flying through the air. Then he was sitting in the snow looking up at them. His tailbone hurt from where he had slammed into the sidewalk. He figured out right away what had happened, in his desperation to hold on to something he had grabbed the handle of the gate, and it had come open. Paul, and Victor stood there stunned, not sure what to do next. Henry took advantage of the moment, and shut the gate in front of them. He looked for a way to lock the gate, and could find none. He did not think it would slow them down for long but he was desperate.
Paul tried the gate, but it would not open. He reached through the gate to try the other handle, but still could not open it. He began screaming at Victor, but he could not get it open either. The two of them began to shake, and kick the gate trying to get it to open. “I can wait all day, you have to come out of there sooner, or later” Paul howled. Henry knew he was right, it was already getting late, if he did not get home soon, he would be in trouble again. He decided to worry about that when, and if he got out of this yard alive.
“What do you think you are doing in my yard?” a voice rang out behind Henry. The three of them froze.
Paul, and Victor bolted at the sign of adult interference, but Henry was on the wrong side of the gate. The woman charged across the yard. She was imposing. Even though she was slight of frame, and had gray hair there was a look in her eye that meant business. She was yelling about her bushes, and Henry looked around him for the first time, and realized he had not only knocked over some of the smaller fence work, but that he had trampled some of the smaller evergreen bushed when he fell. The woman grabbed him by the strap of his backpack, and turned him to look at her.
“I’m so sorry, I never meant to come in your yard, but they were…” Henry stopped not sure how to finish his sentence. What happened was embarrassing enough with out having to explain it to a perfect stranger. She took one look at the bruises growing on Henry’s face, and her expression softened.
“They sure did a number on you didn’t they?” she said. She was sympathetic, but Henry could still hear the irritation in her voice as she said, ”Well, what are we going to do about this mess?”
Henry thought for a moment then an idea came to him. “I could come over after school, and fix it if you let me”. She smiled at Henry’s words. She was of average height, and of a smallish build. She was wearing a black pantsuit with a white blouse. There was some kind of logo on the pocket of the black suit jacket, but he could not tell what it was. There was something unnerving about this woman. Then like a flash it came to him, it was her smile. It was almost as if there were more teeth in her mouth than there should have been.
“I think that will work out nicely, give me your parent’s phone number. I will call them, and arrange a time.” Henry was nervous about the idea of giving this woman his number, but got the very clear impression from her tone of voice that this was not really a request. He gave her his phone number shooting looks at the gate the whole time. He needed to be getting home and soon. She escorted him to the gate. Although the gate had been stuck a few moments ago when Paul had tried to get to him, it opened just fine now.
The woman closed the gate behind him, turned and began to walk to the house. Henry began the trip home keeping his eyes open for Paul and Victor.
II
Roberts stood in the yard watching the boy walk down the street. She had watched the incident with the boys. She felt bad for the boy, but not bad enough to interfere. That is until he opened the gate. Very few people in the universe could open that particular gate. Once he was in the yard, she watched closely. When neither boy could get the gate open, she stepped in and got rid of them. She wanted more time with the boy, but he kept shooting looks at the gate. He clearly wanted to be elsewhere. She had not been a hundred percent sure he was what she was looking for, until he opened the gate in front of her. She had felt the familiar connection of sub-conscious power as his hand touched the gate, and the mechanisms allowing the gate to open, spun into life. It seems she had found a new gatekeeper.
She looked down at the slip of paper the boy had torn from his notebook. Henry Thomas it said. She would have to arrange for him to spend more time with her. From behind her, she heard Nathan speaking to Francis about the damage in the yard.
“Now just calm down Frankie, you know the kid didn’t even mean to open the gate, you saw the look of shock on his face when the gate opened.” Nothing Nathan was saying was helping to calm Francis down. For a corporeal spirit capable of inhabiting a host of vessels he was overly attached to the armor and garden. However, it was that attachment that made him a good bodyguard.
She turned and walked towards them; she put her hand up to forestall any comments before either of them could speak.
“He is a gatekeeper, we can be sure of that. We will have to wait till the time is right to move forward. He is young, even for a human. I will handle this myself”. She looked pointedly at Nathan when she said this last bit. He was always overstepping his boundaries. “I will see if I can offer him a job working on the grounds. If he accepts, then we will see what he is capable of when the time is right. It has been a long time since we had a human working here. I want this handled discreetly, do I make myself clear.” Nathan did not look happy but she thought he would hold his tongue for now. She knew that the conversations about “the boy” were just getting started. Henry, she thought to herself, if this thing was going to move forward she had better start learning his name.
She began up the steps when she remembered Francis, and stopped at the top of the stairs. “I will make sure that he repairs the damage that was done to the garden before he is allowed to continue to the next step” she said with out turning around. “That will make you happy, won’t it Francis?”
The spirit that dwelt in the armor did not answer, but stood stoically looking forward. I don’t have time for this she thought to herself, and whipped around to speak impatiently.
“I said, that will make you happy,” she stressed the “will” this time so he would know that she was not in the mood, and that this was not really a question. “Won’t it, Francis.” She said again putting a tone in her voice so he would know she expected an answer.
“Yes Ma’am” he answered, with out turning to look at her. She was too busy for this today she thought to herself again, and ignored his sullenness.
“Excellent, good day Gentleman” she said, and went into the house.
III
Henry walked towards his house. He checked his watch again; he had already missed his mom. After seeing his face in the side mirror of a parked car, he figured this was for the best. He knew he would be in trouble when his father got home; but if he played things right he could hide the worst of the afternoon. He needed to get home before his father got home from work so he could change out of his messed up clothes. He had done this on occasion, when he was to dirty or wet for his mother not to notice. Henry did his own lau
ndry, and as long as there were no marks on his face, he could hide what had happened.
Paul and Victor had been bullying kids since they were in middle school. They had learned over time, if you hit the face, then parents noticed, and got involved. Sometimes they slipped, and lost control like today. Henry had taken two really hard shots to the face, and was just glad they they had not broken his nose. If they had been an inch to the left they would have for sure. He had made a makeshift cold pack out of compressed snow, and was using it to bring the swelling in his face down. He was also trying to rack his brain to come up with some kind of explanation. He prayed to the universe for some kind of help thinking of a story that explained how his face got busted up, and put him in that woman’s yard. It occurred to Henry that he may have no choice but to tell the truth. The woman had seen a lot, and his story could not contradict hers or the whole thing would fall apart. Henry hated lying to his family, but was too ashamed to deal with the truth. He turned to head up his street panicked, and sick to his stomach from nerves. He had no idea what was going to happen when he got home. Would he be in trouble for breaking the fence? He didn’t know how bad the damage was; it looked like a very expensive fence, what if the woman expected his parents to pay for it. His parents worked very hard to make sure that he, and his sister had what they needed, but he knew there was not a lot left over after bills were paid. What if they couldn’t afford to replace the fence?
What if they found out about the bullying? Henry was ashamed that he could not stand up for himself. He could not imagine the disappointment in his parents face when they found out. The thought of their disappointment was enough to make him physically ill. He reached the front of his house, and turned up the driveway. The house was gray and red brick, with a garage set back on the right side of the property. He walked up the driveway to the backdoor. The backdoor opened onto a small stairwell landing. You went down to the basement or up three steps to a door to the main level of the house. He went up the three steps and listened at the door. On the other side of the door was the kitchen. He listened to make sure he did not hear his sister in the kitchen. He was hoping that she was on the other side of the house in the living room watching television, or even better on the computer in her room. His bedroom was off the kitchen and if he could make the three steps to his room with out being seen, then there was a good chance he could ditch his clothes with out getting caught. He took a deep breath and bargained with the universe to help him get through the night. He opened the door, and found his father sitting at the table waiting for him
“Hey, you were late again today,” his father said smiling at him. “I got another earful from your mom. Although given the phone call I just got. I think we can cut you some slack this time. Why don’t you go to your room, and get cleaned up; then we can talk.” Henry walked to his room trying not to show the terror he felt. His father must know what happened, or he would not have been so nice about the lateness, especially after the conversation they had had about it last week. He said something about a phone call. He realized that the woman must have called while he was walking home.
Is his room he changed into a pair of sweat pants, and a long sleeved tee shirt to hide the bruises on his body. There was a knock at the door as he quickly pulled his shirt on. He turned as his father opened the door, and leaned against the doorjamb half in the kitchen, half in his room. His father was a warm natured man who always had a hello for everyone he knew. He was not any taller than Henry, they both stood around 5 foot eight inches, but Henry always felt that his father towered over him. He was a big man with large arms, and shoulders. He was a union ironworker, and spent a lot of time moving heavy material. Henry was thankful he was able to get his shirt on before his father came in. He was not sure how his father would react to the bruises on his body. His dad held a bag of frozen peas.
“Here put this on your face, it will keep it from getting any worse,” his dad said.
“Thanks” Henry said, sure his father knew his shame.
His father tossed him the peas, and began talking. “I got a phone call from a woman named Ms. Roberts,” he said. He paused and waited for Henry to nod before continuing. “She was very concerned, about your face. She said she was trying to get her snow blower restarted in the driveway when you offered to help.” For the first time since school let out Henry saw a glimmer of hope.
“What else did she say?” he asked.
His dad laughed and caught himself, “Sorry,” he said. “She said there was a problem with the pull start, that your hand slipped. She said you hit yourself in the face pretty hard. Its nothing to be embarrassed about, it happens sometimes”. Henry felt a load lift off his shoulders. Roberts had covered for him.
He was going to get away with it, then he remembered the fence and became suspicious, “did she say anything else?” he asked.
“She said you offered to come over and shovel for her tomorrow since you guys couldn’t get the snow blower started. She wanted to make sure it was okay with your mom and me. I said you shoveled your grandparents house all the time, and it would be fine,” his dad said. His dad left the doorway and went to the stove, opened the door, and looked inside. Henry though he could smell tomato sauce, it was either lasagna or pizza. His dad looked in for a minute judging the doneness of what ever he was cooking; closed the door then continued talking. “Ms. Roberts mentioned she had several odd jobs that needed to be done around the house; she was wondering if you would be interested in a job. It might be a good idea to think about her offer,” his dad said. “The pizza is almost ready, make sure your wet dirty clothes get to the basement, I don’t want them sitting on the carpet,” his dad said checking the oven again.
“Thanks dad, love you,” Henry said beginning to do as his father had asked.
He heard his father’s reply “Love you too” as he gathered up his wet clothes. Henry tossed the clothes down the basement stairs, meaning to put them where they belonged after dinner, and went to wash his hands for dinner.
IV
Roberts hung up the phone with Henry’s father. He seemed like a genuinely pleasant man, especially for a human. She would have to keep an extra close eye on his boy. She had spent a lot of time on the phone with Henry’s dad trying to learn as much as she could about Henry. It was clear from the time that she had spent with Henry that he had a remarkable sense of perception of the world. He had noticed her smile. He had not said anything, of course, but he flinched back from her smile. Many species found her smile intimidating. In fact she was known to use this fact to her advantage when she was agitated, or angry. Her mouth although the same size as a human, contained more teeth. She seldom smiled when out of her office, because although the humans could not point to what bothered them, many were put off when she smiled too big. Henry noticed the second she smiled, but took it in stride. He had even noticed the kopar.
Very few people over the years had seen the fruit from Nathan’s kopar tree. It was from the planet he called home, he had been exiled here on Earth bothering her for almost 200 years now. The tree made fruit that looked almost like an apple, but tasted like a firm kiwi. Most people saw what they expected to see. The ability to see the world for what it was, truly was a rare gift indeed. But more importantly, Roberts’s thought the boy appeared to posses a truly kind heart.
When she was on the phone with his father, he accepted her story about the snow blower without a blink. She was testing to learn more about Henry. He then proceeded to extoll the virtues of his son, listing several people through out the neighborhood his son helped on a semi regular basis. She had been looking for a new gatekeeper, and it looked like Henry would work out nicely.