The two men stood firm, neither
making any move which would set off something the world hadn’t known since The
League stripped Mr. Thompson of his powers.
“What the hell do you think you’re
doing, old man!” Kyle was face to face with Mr. Thompson now, his eyes looking
square into his eyes and Mr. Thompson couldn’t remember when his son had grown
so tall.
“What am I doing? I’m trying to
pro–”
“No you’re not!” Kyle’s red,
tear-filled eyes consumed Mr. Thompson’s entire vision as his son spoke. “I’ve
got a gift I need to learn to use and they can teach me because you won’t.
You’re only obsessed with mom’s death while there’s still a whole world out
there that needs people like us.”
Mr. Thompson could see Kyle trying
to grasp at the next words but with the pause Kyle was extinguished. Kyle was
never one to maintain his fire for a long period of time but when his flame got
lit it erupted. As quick as his outburst appeared, it was gone – as was Kyle.
Suddenly, Mr. Thompson realized he was standing in a room with only Captain
Shield and the echo of a front door slamming shut.
Mr. Thompson looked around the room
and finally saw the truth – the newspaper clippings taped to the wall with
certain words circled in red and pieces of string connecting certain ones – all
trying to tie together who killed his wife. His eyes spun around the room until
he found what he was looking for.
Just one family photo still
uncovered and untouched by his obsession. Two small children, Katy and Kyle,
holding their mother’s hands at the park. He couldn’t remember how old they
were, or when the picture was taken. He couldn’t remember if all the pictures
he covered were the same – just a mother and her two children – or how many pictures
he covered up.
“He’s not mine to give away,” Mr.
Thompson said to Captain Shield. “Just promise me you’ll give him a choice.” He
turned his back and walked toward the couch, taking Nancy’s cuckoo clock off
the wall.
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