Amid the Nebulae

~ Chapter Two ~ Going "Up There" ~

A dusky morning lurks. The hail and the rain thrashes upon the mossy roof of the Tynes' diddly concrete house. The street of which they live is usually busy and lively, yet on this particular morning it seems desolate and murky. Mist swirls through the petite garden, while a cluster of foxes seek shelter from the belting hailstones beneath a towering willow tree. The familiar voices of carolling robins are absent, albeit caterwauling resonates from the dimly lit house as it stands beneath ebony clouds, being beaten by the violent rain.

"Drugs!?" hollers a furious Mrs Tyne, standing in her puffy robe and slippers. "Of all the things you boys could do! How could the pair of you make such a reckless choice!?"

"But it wasn't anything to do with me, Mum," says Hiram.

Though the Tyne family perhaps might not seem the most typical of families, they are a family nonetheless.

As a midwife, Sophie Tyne's dainty hands have assisted the births of over three thousand babies. And despite being perfectly healthy and physically able to bear her own genetic offspring, she and her significant other chose to adopt their eight children. Six of which have matured and fled the nest. Hiram is the youngest at twenty-two. Michael is the eldest at forty-four. The other Tyne children, Emma, Jeannie May, Sayyid, Nash, Tilly, Lewis, and Noah are all somewhere in between.

Many of the nosy neighbours gossip about Sophie. They believe that delivering the infants of wailing mothers has killed any desire for Sophie to experience the terror - or the miracle, as some allude to it - of childbirth on a personal level. However, Mrs Tyne will tell you otherwise, that her neighbours have some daft obsession with Chinese whispers, and that she has always wanted to adopt her children. In her own words, '...this world brims with unfortunate children who are in desperate need of families to love and cherish them, merely as all children merit.'

Bram Tyne shakes his head at Noah. "This is the last thing that your mother and I need to be dealing with."

"You haven't heard the best of it yet, Dad," says Hiram. "Noah struck a deal with the devil."

Sophie stares at Noah.

"What does he mean by that?"

For Noah, the pixie dust was merely a moment of frenzy. Purely a spontaneous act. Although in the past, there have been times when he had 'thought about' using drugs as a convenient means to block out his heinous demons. The Tynes have been a marvellous family to him, of course. Supportive in every which way, easy to talk to, and mightily affectionate. Yet despite this, coping with the perplexing mysteries of his past is a severe burden for Noah to bear. Ambivalence has encompassed him for as far as his memory can stretch. It took eleven years for social workers to finally find a suitable family for the young male. Foster families often complained about his naughty behaviour. Others were disturbed by his unusual amber eyes and referred to him as a demon. And when they decided to adopt him, Bram and Sophie recognised that the eleven year old child who had been placed before them had endured great difficulties in his early life. Ever since the poor dear was a baby, he had been cast from one concrete house to another, and he believed that he was a burden to the world. An unwanted vagrant.

How pitiful it was to be an orphaned little boy, perpetually questioning why he wasn't good enough.

And as that little boy grew into a young man, he acknowledged that he might never learn why his biological mother rejected him so. But now he is yet to meet the Raffertys, and he trusts that whatever the truth might be, he is far better off being blinded from it. If there is one thing that Noah fears, it is the truth. What if the truth is to debilitate his emotional strength even more so? What if his prosperous kindred are to convey callous words that he simply does not wish to hear? What if, what if...