New Age

Homecoming

"Yes, actually, I am. I think you've found it first." I gesture at my crumpled papers in Max Jackson's hand.  "How did you know that was mine?"

"Lucky guess, I suppose." With this he stared at me so intently I was incredibly uncomfortable. I shift my feet slightly before reaching forward to grab my packet back. 

"You're going to take this packet, thanking me for keeping it safe, turn around and go home. That's when you'll have to face your family and friends about your choice. You'll fight it out, then you'll be happy as can be. When it's time to go to sleep, you'll go into your room and lay in bed crying for hours, if you even make it that far. In the morning, if anyone asks, you'll say you got shampoo in your eyes during your shower. Am I wrong?" He threw the packet on the ground and started to walk away.

"Wait." He stops but doesn't turn around. I continue anyway, not caring whether he chooses to listen or not. "Why would you say that? Er-how did you know that? And why do you care?"

He waits a moment before answering, "Because it's our job."

Our job. The words kept going through my head throughout the entire ride home. My parents didn't dare speak to me until we got in the privacy of our own house, where there would be inevitable yelling and crying, no doubt.  What a weird family the Jackson's must be. A Tracking family, obviously, but why did the two boys seem to speak in riddles? They were eirily similar, in both looks and from what I've experienced, personalities. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't even care about the mystery behing the two, but seemings as I'll eventually be living with them in the Tracking unit, I had no choice. Max seemed hostile towards me, and the other Jackson was just intimidating. I leafed through the packet to find his short bio. His name was Parker. 

"How could you do this to us?" My mom wasn't yelling, but she was visibly angry and upset.  She asked a lot of me since we've been home but this question seemed to pop out a lot more than the others. My dad hasn't said a word, and my sister kept sneaking little reassuring smiles my way while trying to calm down my mother. 

"Can I defend myself now? Or talk for that matter? I did it for you. All of you. I know things, I see things that you don't. I had no other choice. They'd find out about me eventually, and I'd rather do things by my choice instead of being forced by another. And quite frankly, it wasn't my decision to make. I was born for this. Someone needs to protect us. Since it's none of you, and less than 10% of the country are Trackers, I had to. If you have a problem with that, than stay here and pity me while I go out and risk my life for people I don't even know or care about. It's be nice if you all showed some pride and respect, compassion too." 

My sister was the one who spoke first. "I know why. I don't like it, obviously, but I understand. I'm proud of you. Of what you're doing. And I'll be here if you need help with anything." We smile at each other and I reach over to give her a hug.

My mother speaks next. "I'm sorry. You can't have any idea what I'm going through, trying to process this. It's scary. I'm scared. Proud, but scared." I look at my dad, who smiles.

"I'm incredibly proud of what you did today. Most other people I know would have denied who they are to avoid something they didn't want. You'll have no trouble being a Tracker, based on what you just did." I look back to my mom, who is still shaking with unshed tears. 

It took us another hour to get her calmed down. We talked it out and I finally got her to accept what I did.

I feel awful.

I said goodnight and gave my family tight hugs and kisses on the cheek. Then I went to my room and did exactly what the boy from the courtroom said I would.