CROSSFIELD TRILOGY : Volume No. 01

Chp 1.5: Mark Jefferson

Mark was your average 15 year old teenager who could be found in almost any american town. He was tall and slightly on the thinner side with dark brown hair. Although at the beginning of middle school he was quite shy, puberty had kicked and the once 'introverted mostly at home' Mark had suddenly liked working out in the school gym room. However, even though he had overcome a considerable amount of his shyness, Mark was still  but unusual from the other guy of his generation, majority of whom were busy spending their time in video game arcades, at sports practices or trying to buy liquor secretly from the highway adjacent store.
However, apart from the time Mark spent at the gym, he would still remain at home, in his dad's room or reading books. It was the former activity though, which consumed most of his time. Once Mark was in his Dad's room he became irrespective to time and other quantum properties. He would sit in the room for hours, just going through his dad's stuff, staring at his photos, gazing into his dad's pitch black eyes until his Mom had to literally drag him out of the room. It was also in this room that Mark had shed most of his tears. His dad lad left home while he was 3 years of age. As a result of that, Mark had to go through a lot of jeering and staring for the next 6 years. People would shamelessly ask him about his dad if he had married another woman. Few also told him that his dad was a drunkard who got into voodoo and other occult practices.

He would also be made the centre of many parenting related taunts and jokes and no matter how many times Mark had complained about this to the school's counselor, the bullying just continued. As any human being, Mark too felt angry at his father, who wouldn't after all? However, at the end of the day, whatever maybe the case, Mark was always drawn to that beige coloured room. It was as if there was a part in him which was throbbing to prove to the world that his father wasn't just anybody. After a while though, this jeering and teasing gradually stopped.

Things were pretty bad for him at a point and the jokes had gotten to him so much that he had even thought of running away. However, there was a force which prevented him from doing so. His Mom. Mark's mom had to go through the same amount of trouble as Mark however, there was not a single time that Mark heard her criticize about his father. Even though he had to work two shifts to cover the home loan, even though she had to pay for her sons school and college, she never let the stress show on her face and was always there for Mark with a smile everyone he needed her. "Listen here Mark," she regularly told him this," what the town thinks about us shouldn't matter to you, because your life isn't restricted to the boundaries of this town. There is a whole world out there, with open minded people who will see you for who you truly are and that is what matters. Remember, never let your past break the bridge that connects you to your future."

Also, since he had entered High school, Mark was excelling in Latin and Greek philosophy. His was also a member of the sociology club and a favourable student of professor Hallmark who taught them sociology. Sociology. That's how he had met Janet. Altough a transfer student when she first came to
St. Christford High, she had met Mark in a sociology lecture and had became pretty good friends and then later entered into a relationship.
He had also tweaked up his cycle, installing a speedometer, new gears, brakes, special rally tires and repainted it white. It wasnt anything short of a professional bike now, what's more Mark had done all the upgrades himself through the money he had won in sociology Quizzes. As a result the feeling of self satisfaction always lingered around his bike especially when he rode it downhill at surprising skills with perfect balance.

Even though few elders still eyed him suspiciously, as Mark consistently started getting good grades; the town slowly stopped taunting Mark and now life had begun to get normal for the 15 year old.
             _______________________

Mark entered the beige coloured room. Closing the door gently, he tiptoed his way directly to the maple wood cupboard and removed a neat but rusted tin box from one of the shelves.
Mark smiled. He had done this hundreds of times before but whenever he did it, a certain feeling of satisfaction entered his body. He opened the tin lid. This was what his dad had left for him. Inside laying on a velvety cloth was a normal deck of cards , and a couple of photos of his dad on usual occasions like Halloween Christmas, and his dad's marriage. He took the deck of cards and kept the box aside. The cards were pretty normal except for a golden ace of spades which was slightly larger and heavier then the rest of the deck. He held the golden card up and blinked at it as it glistened coming directly under the bulb's light.
He then, kept the box back into its respective shelf after removing the marriage photos from it. He stared at his dad, how happy he looked wearing a dark blue tuxedo, his brown shoes complimenting his hair, which was gently stroked by sunshine falling on it. His gaze shifted from his dad to his mom. She looked pretty too and young. Really young. The gown she wore, emphasized on the beauty of her face and the pinkish red rose behind her ear, went well with the shade of her lipstick. Mark gave a smile as warmth spread over his face. He had known about these photos for a year now.