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Return To School

Posted on Sat Sep 30, 2017 @ 11:35pm by Adam Myers
Edited on on Sun Oct 1, 2017 @ 10:27am

Mission: The Fruit Of Tantalus
Location: Deck 10 - Room 1011, School
Timeline: MD2 - 0700 Hours

Down…fear and surprise gripped the boy as he felt himself falling and tumbling down through the air, sandwiched between rough redrock cliff walls that were whooshing past. It seemed to go on forever. He heard a scream…his own? Then unimaginable pain seared through his back and head as he hit the bottom. He looked up to see his friend Stovelard Zembosi take one last look and then back away in a fearful response as he heard his dad calling for him. He was alone.

“No!” Adam cried out audibly.

“Adam, wake up,” Dr. Myers spoke sharply as he tried to shake his son out of his nightmare. “Adam, you’re dreaming.”

“Dad?” Adam responded weakly.

“You were dreaming again. Only a dream. You are here with us again. Me and your sister Phoebe. Remember? We are back on the Jericho again.”

Adam rolled over to his side facing his dad who had taken a seat on the edge of this bed. “Dad, my head hurts still. When will the nightmares go away?” he questioned anxiously.

Dr. Myers ached for his son who had suffered so much trauma during the two weeks that he’d been lost to them while they were on Celestia. He momentarily thought of his own dreams that he’d had as he lived through the nightmares of trying to get the officials on Celestia to take a more serious and thorough search for his missing son. He placed his hand on Adam’s shoulder and tried to put on a cheerful countenance.

“Adam, the dreams will go away…in time. But right now, you need to get up and get ready for school. There isn’t much time.

“Dad,” he moaned. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

“You have to, it will get better,” he encouraged.

Adam dragged himself out of bed, carelessly threw on his clothes, mindlessly downed a bowl of his favorite cold cereal and milk, then silently left their quarters for the turbolift that would take him to the elementary classroom deck.

4th and 5th Grade Classroom, 0900 hours

He stood at the doorway looking in and watched the joyful commotion. Their classroom mascot and his friend Dirk’s personal pet named Turfly was buzzing around the classroom periodically dive bombing a few of the girls who shrieked and giggled. Some of the boys were hollering and cheering for Turfly. “Again,” they called. Adam noticed his best friend Dirk was standing on the other side of the classroom next to a tall blond boy..oh yeah, he remembered…Nikolai. They didn’t see him.

Suddenly their teacher entered the classroom. Amazingly the room seemed to magically organize itself into a somewhat quiet and respectful classroom of about ten children who were in their seats and taking out their padds to get ready for the day before she’d even put her things on her desk. Turfly--I guess one could imagine her as a small furry mammal, a little dog perhaps, with leathery wings--swooped up to a small perch that the class had constructed near the ceiling where she could lounge the day away looking down on her adoring admirers. But there was something odd about Turfly, something that the teacher couldn’t quite put her finger on. This pet that Dirk had smuggled onboard before they’d left Deep Space 9 seemed to have a sentience to her eyes, an intelligence that sometimes disquieted her. But hey, the kids loved having her with them, so who was she to question.

She noticed Adam standing in the doorway. Her face crinkled into a big welcoming smile. She quickly ushered him in and into his usual seat that had been waiting empty for his return. The class broke out into a welcoming frenzy. He mumbled a few words of thanks then buried his head in his school bag retrieving some of his school supplies.

Dirk tried to get Adam’s attention, but Adam pointedly looked the other way. As the day wore on, Adam feel deeper and deeper into a fog of lassitude. At times it seemed like the voices around were coming from miles away. The teacher noticed, Dirk noticed, Turfly noticed…and before the day ended she had flown down and settled in his lap. He couldn’t help but feel her fuzzy warmth, occasional scratchy tongue and see her penetrating eyes peering up at him.

It was not lost on the teacher, as she watched she wondered, ‘What does Turfly know?’


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