Winter's Edge

Chapter 1 - Infatuation

Ian

Present

THE slap of my yearbook hitting the wood floor snapped me out of the memory. A sick feeling turned my stomach. I hadn't even noticed my fingers uncoil from the book.

"What's wrong with you, Ian?" Dad had me in a dead stare as he stood behind his desk. He knew when I looked into his office, I'd sometimes have flashbacks of that horrific day when I was five. I wasn't sure he cared, though. "How can you keep that power under control for twelve years, then suddenly start blowing stuff apart in the last few days?"

I gritted my teeth. "I haven't kept it completely under control all that time. You know that."

"Look, if you don't keep it from coming out, you could put us all at risk. People will come looking for you. You wanna become a government science project or end up dead?" He dropped into his desk chair, turning his gaze to the papers riddled on his desk. "Get to school. You're gonna be late."

The repaired, repainted office walls now covered the memory as if it hadn't happened, much like our silence, but nothing could purge that day from my mind. The memory of my dad rejecting me with a look that said I was dangerous. Defective. That was also the last time I saw my sister. She was sent away to our aunt and uncle's in California. I never understood why they hadn't sent me away instead of her. Maybe they were afraid I'd explode again and hurt someone else's child.

I sighed as I retrieved the black and orange yearbook, taking one last look at the office as if I might never see it again. This house and my dad were suffocating me.

Passing through the kitchen, my mother said, "Bad memories again?"

"Yeah." I stared at my feet as I walked.

"Give it time." She turned off the faucet and dried her hands on a dish towel. "The older you get, the more memories fade."

"I know." I shrugged, adjusting my gray t-shirt under the brown plaid flannel I wore over it.

Mom hugged me, then pulled back a bit, arms still around my waist. "Just remember, you're no different than anyone else. Everyone has problems. Everyone has secrets."

"Not everyone can destroy a room just by getting angry."

"They can with a bat." The edge of mom's lip stretched into her witty smile.

I couldn't help but snicker.

She kissed my forehead. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

I left the house and walked around the side, staring out over our weed-ridden cornfield we hadn't used in years. Hopefully, a local farmer would rent it again soon and put it to good use. We could always use the money.

I turned into the barn where my white '91 Mazda RX7 sat. A couple of flaky edges and a few light scuffs hinted at its age. But it still looked pretty good. Now, if it only ran as good as it looked...

I climbed into the driver's seat and relaxation spread through me like a soft breeze. The old Mazda always did that to me. 135 mph in the car was a rush, and yet strangely calming. The power, the speed, the thrill-they were like therapy to me. In a life of uncertainties, this was the one thing I could control.

As I started the car, the turbo whined like an angry vacuum cleaner, then fell silent and idled out.

"Great."

And there went my control.

***

Mom dropped me at school after following me to Tony's shop to drop off the car.