Call of Destiny
Being the first part of ONE SMALL STEP OUT OF THE GARDEN OF EDENBy Robert WagoneriUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2009 Robert Wagoner
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4401-4001-3Chapter One
Senior Year
Smack!
The small diner was brimming with the typical Friday afternoon crowd of energetic teenagers looking to put the long week of school behind them. Contemporary music blared throughout the room, cowed only by the roar of young men and women engaging in various frivolities. Yet the unexpected cracking sound brought the bustling establishment to a complete standstill, and all eyes fixed themselves on the corner booth from where the noise had originated.
An irate, young female shot up from one side of the table and quickly gathered her things, while the male senior sitting on the opposite side-displaying a rather painful-looking handprint on the side of his face-watched in embarrassment as she fixed herself to leave.
"Drop dead, Mike!" she huff ed, looking him in the eye reproachfully.
"But Jennifer-"
Michael's pleadings came too late, for Jennifer stormed out of the diner. He sighed, relieved that he had accomplished his objective; his noticeable concern for the young woman's feelings was simply a courtesy. Nevertheless, he suffered under a round of ooohs and judging gazes by gawking onlookers, particularly from three all too familiar seniors watching from a nearby table.
"It didn't take her too long to come to her senses," the largest of the three fellows cynically exclaimed as the room returned to its normal chaos.
Michael feigned another courteous return expression, futilely attempting to hide his disdain for his classmate. "I'm okay with that, Fellinger." Hoping to avoid a confrontation, he stood up from the table and casually walked out of the diner.
The warm, afternoon sun accosted him from the side as he headed down the sidewalk toward where he would catch transportation home. However, the sound of the diner's door opening again broke the air, followed by footsteps ominously moving in his direction. Michael cringed, knowing the senior had waited for the opportunity all afternoon.
"Hey, Gillen!" an irritated Danny Fellinger called from behind him. "You know she's my cousin, right? You shouldn't treat her like that."
Michael, his face still throbbing from where Jennifer had slapped him, rolled his eyes and kept pace in the direction of his destination.
Much to his relief, Michael soon turned the corner, taking the opportunity to walk a little faster. The transport that would take him home lay directly ahead, though it was still too far away for a quick escape. And Danny Fellinger and company were rounding the corner too.
Continuing toward the transport, young Gillen could hear the trio quickly closing the gap. Just as his antagonists came within an arm's reach of him from behind, Michael felt one of them wrench the small book he was carrying from his back pocket. Indignant over the trespass, Michael stopped and turned around defiantly.
Fellinger, his cohorts standing supportively behind him and sneering, held the book in one hand and surveyed the cover. The thug, whose stature matched that of a sequoia, towered over Michael, casting an intimidating shadow over him. Despite being a little taller and more athletically endowed than most of his classmates, Michael was no match for the sizeable Danny Fellinger.
However, Michael remained undaunted. Fellinger's size, though very much a concern, was never the problem in all their confrontations over the years. No, it was always about the same old, tired subject. Michael loathed the thought of another altercation. However, he would have no choice in the matter, for Fellinger looked quite perturbed. Michael knew the senior was unsettled over being the victim of Michael's stellar performance on the physics test earlier that day. Breaking the grading curve had made Michael the target of the lesser inclined Fellinger. Though Michael was bound to pay for such an infraction, he resolved to remain calm.
"'Neil Armstrong: A Look at the Man Who Helped Shape the Twenty-Fifth Century," Fellinger cynically read aloud the cover. Then he tossed the book back at Michael. "Get your head out of the stars. The last thing this solar system needs is another Gillen making trouble."
"At least I'll have that option," Michael countered reproachfully, making a not-so-veiled reference to his antagonist's physics test score. However, he couldn't believe that he had let such a comment slip.
Fellinger's face became like flint and he leaned in toward Michael threateningly. Briefly looking at the fading, red handprint on the side of Michael's face, Fellinger pushed an index finger into his chest. "Your family's garbage, Gillen.... That's why your mom and dad are here on Earth. They're hiding out in the middle of nowhere because no other place in Terrae Solaris will have them, not after all the trouble Jonathan Gillen created. He was garbage, Gillen ... just like you are garbage. Isn't that what Gillen means?"
Michael fumed, keeping eye to eye with his nemesis. He could hear Fellinger's friends standing behind him, laughing at the remarks the senior had made. Common sense told Michael to let it go, to walk away. However, his anger boiled within him, bringing to mind all the other times Danny Fellinger had insulted his family-and all those others who had done the same thing over the years too. The conversation wasn't over either. No, Fellinger would continue his rant until he had accomplished his objective.
Michael knew that he would eventually haul off and punch the gargantuan.
Michael Gillen sat surrounded by the familiar wilderness valley that was his family homestead. From the clearing next to the lake, he could see his house-or at least what was visible of the underground structure-located at the base of the distant hillside on the same side of the water. Between the clearing and the home lay a thick canopy of trees that made the clearing his favorite sanctuary, though a small access path cut through the thicket.
The dour seventeen-year-old reclined against a large rock, facing the water and deep in thought. Occasionally bored and continually frustrated, he would sometimes skip a stone across the water, morbidly fascinated with watching it plunge to its demise-how fittingly ironic. However, those times were rare, for he mostly kept to himself.
To call him a boy would have been unfair, for his long, masculine frame demanded recognition. Yet to call him a man would have been presumptive. For in the deep pools of his blue eyes burned the brashness, high-spiritedness, vacuousness, and navet that is youth. No, the lad found himself precariously caught between worlds. To him, growing up had become a cruel rite of passage, and today was no exception. So overwhelmed by the tragic circumstances that had played out earlier with Danny Fellinger, Young Gillen had escaped to his favorite place of refuge.
Michael remained pensive, but mostly just pouting. With his head hanging low so that his long, brown hair draped conspicuously in front of his eyes, the teen nervously played with the torn fabric exposing his bloody knee. Mindlessly, he kept inserting a finger into the hole-burning pain abruptly shot through the leg upon accidental contact with the fresh wound. His other hand cathartically stroked the stubble covering his face, keeping well clear of the gash at the corner of his mouth and the badly bruised cheek above it. Nevertheless, the whole side of his face throbbed in great pain. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the rip in his favorite shirt, also spotting the prominent stain where blood had dripped from his mouth.
Yet whatever troubled him physically paled against his personal demons. He was tired of it all: tired of the humiliation, tired of the embarrassment, tired of having to defend himself, and tired of getting no support. No one understood him. Life had become completely unfair, providing no means of escape either. Therefore, he would sit there sulking until the intense emotions passed.
"Hi, Mike," a familiar voice echoed from the canopy of trees.
Michael looked up and saw his older brother appear from the thicket, coming toward him on the path. Finishing his senior year of college, David had been away since Christmas.
David was the typical twenty-two-year-old of the day and very much the polar opposite of Michael. The sibling had neatly cropped, ash-blond hair and a clean-shaven face, while conservative clothing covered his filled-out, columnar frame.
At the same time, David possessed other qualities that set him apart from his contemporaries. Though having a swagger about him-especially around his younger brother-David nevertheless remained more than personable. He also lived by strong convictions. Of course, Michael found all those redeeming qualities to be quite irksome.
Though he would never say as much, the lad was happy to see him again. Missing having an older brother around, Michael was more than excited that David had come to visit on spring break. However, now wasn't the time for reunions. No, the crisis of the day consumed the teen. And more than likely, David had come on the behalf of less than sympathetic parties-Mom. Therefore, Michael resolved to give David no quarter.
"When did you get here?" Michael asked, trying to sound uninterested. Playing to his demeanor, he looked away toward the water once more.
"About twenty minutes ago," David replied as he sat down, keeping a respectful distance. He tried not to make noticing Michael's injuries too obvious. "I thought you'd be here. You always are." He looked skyward as if taking it all in. "Though it's a little early. I can't see one star yet." Then he laughed.
"Give it time."
"Why don't you come back to the house? Dad's almost home. He's gonna start grilling soon.... It'll be fun."
"That's okay," Michael replied, looking down. "I'm not in the mood."
"Bad day?" David asked sympathetically. "What did you do, break up with Sasha?"
"Jennifer. Sasha was three girlfriends ago."
David picked up a stone and tossed it into the water. Unfortunately, the stone didn't skip as he had intended. "Hey, I can't keep track of your girlfriends, especially from college. When I met Sasha at Christmas, I should have figured you'd break up with her." He smiled as if to provoke him. "She was too nice."
Michael didn't take the bait. "How did you know I broke up with someone today?"
"It's a Friday," David replied smugly. "You always break up with your girlfriends on a Friday."
Michael just nodded his head.
After a long pause, David shook his head incredulously. "I don't get it, Mike. Why do you keep dating all those bubbleheaded girls? That's got to be six this year alone."
"Why not?" Michael smiled at him, puffing out his chest a little. After all, chasing girls was one pursuit in which David could never adequately compete. "Senior year's coming to an end ... so many girls and so little time...." But upon seeing his older brother less than impressed, he added dismissively, "I like their company-well, for a while, at least. Besides, it's just casual dating ... something to do."
"I don't know how you do it, looking like you do," David replied, giving him the once-over. "You need a good haircut and shave, and you could stand to dress a little more respectably-maybe even tuck in your shirt once in a while."
"Did Mom send you out here?"
David's expression turned indifferent, perhaps a little too intentionally. "No, I just wanted to see my little brother." He paused, gazing out onto the lake for a long moment before turning back again. "If it's just casual, then why do you have to break up with them? Look, all this dating might be fun, but it's not proper. You know I'm not in the minority on that view." He paused for effect, his concerned expression mounting. "Mike, you're not doing anything that Mom and Dad wouldn't approve of, are you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Michael shot back, off ended and embarrassed at the implication. Watching David continue the inquisition by expression, Michael exclaimed, "No! Give me some credit."
David relented, making a stopping gesture with his hands to surrender the point. "Just makin' sure."
The two brothers went silent for a while, letting the beautiful view of the lake become a diversion from the discussion. David took into his hand a long blade of grass directly in front of him. The plant was off to itself, growing out of the stony soil beneath him. Focusing his gaze upon the blade for a long moment as if examining it carefully, David said, "So it looks like Jennifer didn't take it too well." At this, he smiled coyly.
"Very funny."
"So who beat you senseless?"
"Danny Fellinger.... And he didn't beat me senseless. I got a lot of good shots in myself."
"Incredible," David remarked, upon which Michael nodded as if appreciating the esteeming sentiment. Then David added, "Butthead."
"What?"
"I meant you're an incredible Butthead!" David declared, causing Michael to withdraw and lean away in a huff . "Danny Fellinger is twice your size. How many times are you going to give him an excuse to beat on you?"
"When that blowhard finally shuts up. I'm not going to let him talk about Great Grandpa like that."
"That's not going to stop," David countered. "And Danny Fellinger isn't alone. You can't fight all of Terrae Solaris by yourself. As long as your last name is Gillen, you're going to have to put up with what people say about Jonathan Gillen."
The words infuriated Michael. "How long are we going to put up with this? They can't blame Great Grandpa for everything that happened.... And they certainly can't blame us either! It was too long ago." Michael bowed his head sullenly. "You don't know how hard it is to stand there and just take it."
"Yeah, I do," David replied, somewhat indignant with his brother. "I got into some scraps early on myself. You just don't remember." After a long and formidable gaze, David sighed as the emotion drained from his expression. Once again, he became warm and empathetic, though completely serious. "Mike, maybe you should realize that some of what they're saying is true."
Michael tilted his head curiously while an incredulous expression came over him. "What are you talking about?"
David looked around quickly, ensuring they were alone before turning back to Michael. "You've got to promise you won't tell Mom and Dad what you're about to hear."
"I promise."
"You were too young to remember," David began, "but I was there right before Great Grandma passed away. I remember her telling Dad how Great Grandpa regretted some of the things he had done ... and how he tried unsuccessfully to make amends."
"So Great Grandpa regretted inventing the gravitational field generator?"
"No," David replied. "But at that time, deciding how to proceed with developing the solar system was an emotionally-charged issue. Putting gravitational fields into settlements like Mid-Earth Station immediately displaced Weightless neighborhoods. Tensions between the Weightless and normal humans skyrocketed. Despite the warnings about how divisive his invention would be, Great Grandpa went ahead with his experiments anyway. In the end, those warnings were right."
"That's impossible," Michael remarked as he shook his head back and forth. "Solaris wouldn't be the same without artificial gravity. Things would be much worse."
"Maybe," David conceded. "But Great Grandpa bribed Mid-Earth Station's governor for the right to implement his generators, reasoning that success at Mid-Earth would be more prestigious than some new, obscure settlement in the Outer Rim." He picked up another stone and tossed it into the water. This time, the stone slipped gracefully across the surface several times until going under. "Not that Great Grandpa making a better choice would have prevented everything that has happened to the Weightless, but you're going to have to accept that some of what people say is true. Otherwise, your own denial will take you to a very dark place. So just learn to let it go. Let Danny Fellinger say whatever he wants."
Michael returned his big brother's imploring gaze, deep in thought. Eventually, his expression turned dour. "I can't. I'm just not forgiving like you-and I'm not in the mood to hear about your faith again."
"I understand," David replied. "Just stop fighting. You're worrying Mom and Dad."
Michael shook his head defiantly. "It's none of their business." (Continues...)
Excerpted from Call of Destinyby Robert Wagoner Copyright © 2009 by Robert Wagoner. Excerpted by permission.
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