The Road to Round Mountain: The Betrayal by Read online

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  This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

  The Road to Round Mountain

  The Betrayal

  All Rights Reserved.

  Copyright © 2015 C.G. Robertsv3.0

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Outskirts Press, Inc.http://www.outskirtspress.com

  ISBN: 978-1-4787-5077-2

  Outskirts Press and the “OP” logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc.

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  For my Wife Cheryl, who always believed that I could

  The trust of the innocent,

  is the liar’s most useful tool.

  Stephen King

  Ultimately we know deeply,

  that the other side of every fear is freedom.

  Marilyn Ferguson

  I walk a lot these days, not for the exercise, or that I really enjoy it. My reasoning is out of necessity. You see I have no car and more important, a driver’s license. I currently walk Highway 101 in Oregon, to hopefully find a town that I am welcome in. The Catsop County Sheriff in Astoria, Oregon, had suggested that I leave and not come back. That request came from the business end of his 12 gauge. It was hard to ignore a friendly request like that.

  My name is William S. Speer, I have a gift, a power, a curse, and I’m not quite sure what it is. I was hit by light-ning, unlocking an untapped potential. Now I can disrupt or even destroy any electrical device that I come in contact with, among other things. And because of this I can see through things, you know like x-ray vision of some sort. For the bo-nus round I can move most anything with my mind, with the help of a little concentration, not just little parlor tricks either, I’m talking major league sized items.

  My Parents were killed by the same lightning that changed my life forever. A lot of innocent people have died because of what I have become; some not so innocent. I will be 18 in about a month, was asked to leave my hometown, unsure what the future will bring. So while I am walking, I’ll bring you up to date. This is my story………

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  As I stAted earlier, my name is William S. Speer, and before we go any further, my middle name is Shake. My mother was a big fan of his work, my dad was not. My dad was more of a Justice league of America type of guy, noth-ing to be ashamed of there. I suppose I was lucky in a way, I could of ended up Aqua man Flash Speer, either name is worthy of ridicule, as I did get my share.

  My Mothers aspirations of my producing some liter-ary masterpiece ended, when she got a phone call from the Manager at Dairy Queen on Marine Dr., concerning my graffiti in the restroom. Who knew there were so many com-binations that rhyme with Nantucket?

  I guess I was a Typical 17 year old, I could go for hours playing Call of Duty, or Grand theft auto. That being said, I don’t own a cell phone, so I don’t tweet, twitter, or twerk (I don’t have the butt for it). My social life existed only at school, I was painfully shy around girls. I had one close friend, Danny Pinkens. We shared the same obsession for gaming, and fear of the opposite sex. If I was to ask a girl out on a date, I would literally die, which is no way to make a good first impression on your first date by showing up as a corpse.

  My Dad was a Fisherman, his favorite spot was roaming Young’s Bay, off the coast of Astoria. I hated seafood, we had issues on that one. He was Tall, about 6’2”, thin but freaky strong, dark hair, and brown eyes with the weathered features

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  of one who spends most of his time outdoors. My mother was a literary junkie, read all of the time. She was the school librarian at Astoria High School, like I needed another reason for my peers to mock me. Me and my Mother at the same High school, shades of Back to the Future. She wasn’t short, but a good head shorter than my dad. She had long blonde hair that was forever hidden in a ponytail, I don’t ever recall her hair not being in ponytail. She possessed the fair skin of one that should remain indoors. Her dark brown eyes had a piercing quality to them as if she gave you a stare down, you pretty much knew you had done something wrong and she would stare until you got up and corrected the manner.

  Our house was on Glasgow Ave. just a few blocks from the high school. Nothing fancy, just your basic single level 3 bedroom bungalow, consisting of lap siding, in a faded green color, lots of moss on the roof. As weather worn the house was on the outside, the inside was immaculate, not that I helped much with that. My Mother made sure that Dad and I picked up after ourselves. Depending on whose pile of junk was, that needed to be moved or cleaned, she simply made a reference to, Slob, and Slob Jr. so we knew which of us made the mess. I didn’t play sports, not that I didn’t like sports, I was just no good at them, a bitter disappointment to my dad, who was an all-star in every sport he played.

  I wasn’t quite 6ft tall, almost, and I got my Mothers blonde hair, and brown eyes, and my Dads obsession with comic books, for which I am truly grateful. I’m not thin like my Dad, but by no means chunky. I’ll never be able to do the truffle shuffle. I like to use that reference since Goonies was

  filmed here.

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  On July 23rd. my life changed forever. The weather fore-cast called for strong wind and rain, nothing unusual about that in the Pacific Northwest. My Parents went to sleep around 10pm, and I stayed up to hone my skills for car-jacking on Grand theft auto. It was a Friday, so no school to worry about. My friends wanted me to come with them to Dairy Queen, but since my graffiti incident, I thought I should decline.

  It was a warm and muggy evening, and the wind suddenly picked up to where it was blowing the curtains so hard they draped over the TV, thus making my carjacking a tad more difficult. I don’t mind an occasional dancing curtain, but this was a full blown jig of glee. Rumbles of thunder rattled the windows and lightning crackled off temporary bits of light. Rainy weather is no stranger to the Pacific Northwest but thunder and lightning of this intensity is. I could hear the rain pelting the windows so I ran over to close them before it got our living room drenched. That’s when I heard a crash-ing sound outside. It sounded like someone had thrown all 3 of our trash cans up against the side of the house. “Shit, always in the middle of a carjacking”. With these recent dis-tractions, it seemed like a good time for a break and check for damage outside. The only sound inside of the house was the harmony of snoring coming from my parent’s room.

  I made my way out the front door, turned left to go passed the garage, where the trash cans should be. The wind was picking up again, and a few cracks of lightning gave me clear passage to locate the cans. You would think heavy metal trash cans could stand up to a bit of wind without being re-located. That thinking turned out to be wrong. All three cans

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  were tossed from up against the garage, to half way down the yard up against our neighbor’s almost ancient pine tree. By ancient I mean old and huge, at least 150 feet tall, and the base was as wide as our Buick. The intensity of the rain increased to where now it was coming down sideway
s peppering my face, making navigation outside nearly impossible. The relentless wind continued, and caught my untucked tee shirt, nearly covering my face as I leaned over to pick up one of the trash cans. “Oh come on, get off me”, as I wrestled my shirt back down to ground zero.

  I was setting one of the cans back up, when the lightning hit. The only thing I remember is the crackle sound, a flash of blue light, and for some odd reason the smell of burnt hair. The next thing I remember is waking up 2 days later in Columbia Memorial Hospital, Not feeling so hot.

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  2

  I don’t remember waking up as much as I remem-ber being confused as to where I was, and why everyone was wearing rubber gloves.

  An Older man walked cautiously towards the bed I was in and spoke softly, “Are you feeling alright Mr. Speer”? “I’m Dr. Matthews, chief of staff at Columbia Memorial, you’ve been through a rather, let’s say, horrific ordeal. Hmmm! A doctor, Columbia Memorial, Lying in bed, Okay, I’m in a Hospital.

  “I’m feeling okay I guess, what exactly happened to me, and where are my Parents?” The Doctor looked down at his feet for a moment, I’m guessing, not to make sure he had his shoes on. “Young man, you are one of the few to survive a lightning strike, you’re basically fine, from what we were able to tell, but complications kept us from a thorough examina-tion”. “I’m not sure what you mean”. “Well, for whatever rea-son, the electrical strike that your body endured, has seemed to retain a vast amount of electricity, and we all had to wear rubber gloves, to be able to get close enough to you to check you vitals, which are astonishingly enough,---Normal”.

  That makes sense, I remember the crackle of lightning, but nothing else. Dr. Matthews, started walking towards the door, turned his head back in my direction. “Dr. Bangor will be in shortly, don’t mind his bedside manner, or lack thereof, he’ll go over your condition more in detail”. Before, he had

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  made it out the door, “Dr. Matthews, aren’t people usually hooked up to some monitors or something”? He smiled as he left my room, “One would think that, But you’re condition has been somewhat of a hindrance to our equipment”.

  I looked around the room, there were monitors, and other contraptions that I had no idea what they were. Everything that was in the room was unplugged, “Maybe I died, and they’re just being nice”, I muttered to myself, while finishing my scan of the room. The only thing that was plugged in was the TV and of course, it was off. Just as well, I was wondering what was taking my parents so long to show up. Just then a Nurse poked her head inside the doorway, “Is there anything I can get you, Are you hungry yet”? “No, I’m not hungry, but do you think you could turn on the TV, You know, to pass the time before my parents get here”? “Oh No, no, no, we have strict orders not to turn on anything electrical around you, you tend to make things go poof! Or catch things on fire”. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll go get you some apple juice, how does that sound”? Before I could respond she darted out of the room with the speed that Nascar Drivers would be envious of.

  So here I am waiting for some news about when my parents are going to be here, or if they are here, why won’t they let them come in? The drowsiness was beginning to go away, and my mind started to kick in to its normal mode, which was never ending wondering. Looking down towards the edge of the bed, I noticed that under the covers my right foot looked unusually larger than my left. I found out I was too stiff and sore to check out my foot when I attempted to sit up, and my back did not cooperate for such a normally meager task. Laying back down again I stared at the blank

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  screen of the TV, wishing that it would come on. I would even settle for some evening news.

  I continued to stare at the TV as if , I stared at it long enough it would come on, Wishful thinking. Looking around for the remote, I noticed it across the room on the night stand, “Come on TV Gods, Give me just this one”, I pleaded, and as soon as I stopped talking, the TV came on. My mind, though not fully clear, was able to reason, that maybe someone in the adjoining room hit the remote in their room, and mine came on as well. Lucky me until I noticed that indeed, the evening news was on. Oh well, can’t complain now, that’s what I asked for, and proceeded to catch up on current events.

  KATU’s news team had one of their reporters live at what looked like, a fire of some sort. “I’m here at 1919 Glascow Ave. where this deadly house fire was a result of a lightning strike, 2 nights ago”……. . The reporter kept talking but I didn’t really hear him, the only 2 things that registered were, deadly, and my address 1919 Glascow Ave. The reporter continued, “Hank and Linda Speer, perished in the fire, and their only son William, is at Columbia memorial Hospital, in stable condition after being hit by lightning”. There it was, my parents weren’t waiting out in the lobby to see me. I was never going to see my parents again, I was hurt, confused, and… all alone.

  For the first time since I was 11 years old, I felt like cry-

  ing, and I did.

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  3

  I’m not sure how long I remained in a daze, trying to get a grasp on the death of my parents, but the news was over and Wheel of Fortune was on, and I did not care about a 9 letter word defining “things”. A few minutes had passed, when a tall man in a white doctor’s smock came into the

  room. He spent a long time gazing at his clipboard before finally looking up. “I’m Dr. Bangor, and you have some issues we haven’t figured out yet”. “First off, you destroyed over 2 million dollars’ worth of equipment, when you were brought into the ER. You caused my head nurse to miss the past 2 days of work, with burns over 70% of her hands, which will require skin grafts and a lengthy recovery period”. “Plus I’m not too thrilled to have you here”. My dad had told me that, I would meet a lot of assholes in my life, but be kind and not point it out to them. This guy was making me want to stamp the word asshole on his forehead.

  The kind doctor looked away from me, when some lady wanted to buy a vowel. “And suppose you tell me why the TV is on”? “I gave strict orders to have nothing turned on in this room except lights, well….”, as he looked at me with contempt. I didn’t know what to say to him. “I’m sorry if I caused damage, but I don’t remember anything after I got hit by lightning up until about an hour ago”. He immediately cut me off, “I said how did this TV get turned on”? “I don’t know, it just came on, no one came in”…..” you expect me to

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  believe the TV came on all by itself, what do I look like, an idiot”. It was hard not to swing away when someone lobs up a fat one down the middle, though I was getting pissed, but I held back. “Look, I’m trying to help you, but if you continue to lie to me”. Okay that was enough, one thing I do not do is lie. I threw the covers down away from me and kind of sat up (still groggy). “Look asshole (sorry dad) I said I don’t know how the TV came on, it just came on. That’s when I pointed at the TV as if to emphasis the point. As I pointed at the TV, a flash of lightning shot from my fingertips, the TV immediately exploded, and what didn’t blow up caught on fire.

  I was shocked and scared, after that light show from my fingers. The Doctor was also in a state of awe, and more than a bit afraid, as he slowly backed away from my bed and slowly out the door, but not without backing into the doorjamb first. All I could hear was the quick shuffling of his feet down the hallway.

  One of the nurses came running into the room, “Are you alright dear”? She looked up at the smoky remains of the TV, and then back to me,” did the TV commit suicide so it didn’t have to listen to that awful doctor anymore”. I broke out laughing, I don’t know why, I just found out my parents are dead, and I seem to have more electricity than Portland General Electric.

  “Yeah I’m okay, but I nuked the TV and spooked Dr. Bangor”. “Too bad it couldn’t have been the other way around”. “I’m known around here as Nurse Mattie, you can just call me Mattie”. Nurse Mattie was every bit as pleasing, as Dr. Bangor was every bit an asshole. She had one of t
hose sooth sounding and polite southern accents. Not real

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  tall, and short brown hair, which seemed to accent her smile somehow. She was not thin but looked in pretty good shape. Maybe mid 40’s I would guess, and her green eyes were as pleasing as I could remember. They made you want to trust her with anything. I noticed she was wearing gloves, which made me a bit uneasy. “Okay Mattie, maybe you can tell me what the doctor was talking about. How on earth did I destroy so much equipment, and is it okay to ask what the gloves are for”? My dad had a prostate exam recently, so when I see gloves I’m ready to run. “Well, Dr. bedside moron was right about the machines in the ER, our EKG monitor, x-ray machine, etc. , anything that touched you went Poof”! “These gloves are for my protection only, they’re rubber gloves so my hair won’t stand out strait when I check your vitals”.

  Relief ran through me as she explained the glove dilemma. “So first off, your left foot is now slightly lighter than your right, when the lightning was going through you, it popped off your left shoe, and your last 2 toes went with it. You’ll be fine on that end, but we haven’t figured out about your hair”. Nurse Mattie held out a mirror for me to have a look. The expression on my face must have said enough. “It’s no big deal Billy Speer, it looks kind of hip, or hip-hop, whatever it is that you kids say today”. I couldn’t believe it, my blonde hair was now jet black except for the white strip down the middle. I don’t know how it could get any worse, but I was sure it would if I just waited awhile. I lost my 2 parents, lost my 2 toes, and as I gaze into the mirror, the name Cruella De Vil comes to mind.