Lifeforce Volume 1: The Lost Path

By Govinda Rajah

How ancient is ancient? How much do you really know about the world around you? How much do you really know about yourself? As supernormal abilities begin to emerge in Trate Kindren, this simple young man is swept into an adventure. In the midst of shadow games and intrigue he comes closer than he wants to answering these questions, rediscovering long forgotten connections between the natural cycles of the Earth its effect on human history. Its effect on his destiny.
In this compelling adventure, author Govinda Rajah marries the domains of archaeology, martial arts and even ancient beliefs on human capabilities, to create an explosive story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Govinda Rajah
• Release date: Feb 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301374267

Book preview

The Verdict

A small step echoed endlessly in a mammoth hall. A simple shoe embraced the foot of a young man walking through the extreme opulence. He had no concept of what was cheap and what was luxurious, in fact the concept of wealth was something that eluded all of his people. Yet still, he sensed the contrast between his simple garments and the decadent surroundings. He knew this but did not feel out of place or lesser in any way. Young wisdom was something his people were known for too. His steps continued to resonate in the quiet hall, bouncing hollowly off magnificent marble edifices scattered throughout.

How ironic, the messenger thought. The focal point of almost all chaos and disharmony is this hall and yet it is pin-drop quiet.

He walked in between two Titan like statues. Their bodies carved out from semi-transparent stone, their armour and garments out of metal. But from no stone or metal ever seen by the eyes of any ordinary man. The eyes of the titans sparked to life as he passed, following him and casting an eerie red glow over his dark hair and shoulders. Their malevolent glow intensified the closer he got to an immense dais, upon which stood a throne. This did not surprise the youth, he knew that these were no mere statues that gazed upon him. They were the eyes of the Celestial Guard and they were certainly anything but immobile pieces of rock and alloy. In spite of their colossal size, they could move with lightning dexterity should their liege be in danger. He approached their equally colossal like master and bowed gracefully.

‘ Speak their judgement boy.’ A large voice boomed out, filling the room with a thunder that echoed down into the depths of the messenger’s soul. He felt fear, an emotion unfamiliar to his people, grip his being for one second. Then, forcing his mind into tranquillity, he locked eyes with the thunderous voice, and began the decree:

 ‘It is henceforth the will of the Jynnoa that you leave this place and it’s people and that at all times you maintain a perimeter of no less than five rings.’ He drew a deep breath as the last of the fear fled.

He stood,‘ It is furthermore stated that all trials attempted to date by your various constituencies and familiars are to be terminated indefinitely. This decree is in force immediately. You are to leave at once, there's a ship awaiting you on the twelfth dock. You are to board it within the hour. The Immortals have been heeded. ’  Prion bowed again.

‘ I see this time they have not bothered to inform me of the consequences of my disobedience. ’ The giant said more to himself than the messenger. A thin smile spread across his huge lips. He paused for a moment, and then the thunder continued.

‘Were you not afraid that I would obliterate the carrier of that decree you just so proudly announced? Step closer, into the light boy.’

Prion obeyed without any hesitation, he approached the tall shadowy throne.

‘ Now it makes sense! It would be a fallacy to believe that you or any of the rest of your miserable people would be afraid of me. Your name?’

Prion waited for the lingering thunder to abate then spoke directly and clearly.

‘ My name is Prio’nan of Eferee.’

The thunderous being paused…evaluating the brave messenger.

‘ Good. I sense no fear in you, you may return proudly to the house of Eferee and announce that you faced the bane of a million rings without weakness.’

Prion did not feel any pride, his facial expression did not change. He was a slate of marble without and a lake of calm within. Knowing better than to be swayed by any kind of vanity this dark being might try to extract.

The giant regarded him with a cool expression for a moment, then in a huff of frustration he spoke.‘ You may leave Prio’nan of Eferee, I have a feeling that this won’t be the last time we meet.’

 Prion bowed, turned and walked off as smoothly as he came. Only once he had boarded his vessel and left the dock did he hear it, as did every other being within a ring. A cry of rage so pure, that it permeated the entire region with crystal clarity. Clearly the verdict had not been received well. Clearly this outburst of rage would not be the only consequence. He nodded to his crew, though they wouldn’t need telling. He must return home immediately…

BOOK ONE

Chapter 1

King Louis

Rays of sun caught her hair and turned part of it from almost black to a shade of rich chestnut. Students, teachers, enthusiasts and everyone else with supposedly nothing better to do walked from stall to stall perusing the many projects being displayed. The Annual Florence High Fair and Student Exhibition was the official name, but Tatsuya Yamada knew why they had all really come. He considered this in silence and watched his student demonstrate her theory to a small gathering. His surprisingly youthful face gazed out from behind square steel spectacles; he diverted his attention away from her and towards the stage. He knew he would probably regret what he was about to see, and to think that he’d had a hand in it was not exactly the kind of thing that made his day. He had made a mistake, and because of it a young man’s ego had grown from tentative but healthy, to an arrogance of enormous proportions. From the looks of things, the entire school, grounds staff and quite a few people from the surrounding town had made their way to this neat lawn in front of the school. Unusual for a seaside town that did pretty much nothing but sleep in or attend religious services on Sunday mornings.

‘STEP UP, STEP UP ERRBODY AND CHECK – IT – OUT!’  A thin young man cast his voice into the crowd.

He was dressed like a retail store mannequin, in clothes far too large for its small frame. Yamada knew this loud, brash youth and his parents fairly well. His name was Collin, he sat at the back of all Yamada’s philosophy lessons. In spite of his appearance he knew this boy had a good heart and intentions to boot, lending his hip-hop accent and demeanour to many charity events, this one in aid of the cash-strapped Florence animal shelter.

 ‘ Yeah all right, all right, settle down. Introducing my main man from another land, LOUIS YOSHIMURA! ’ Collin belted it out as though introducing a contender in a world title fight.

A loud roar of male voices erupted at the back of the crowd, Louis’s friends (cronies most would call them) and many of the townsfolk cheered. The bulk of the student body however, remained notably quiet.  A tall well built teenager appeared at the back of the crowd, he had Japanese facial features and the build of a European. It was pretty obvious to anyone seeing Louis for the first time that physical fitness was his priority. He was dressed in a gi, a traditional Japanese combat training outfit made from thick sturdy cotton blends. It appeared as though an attempt to bleach it at the last minute had left a comical array of white patches, at random spots all over the suit. This stood out in stark contrast against the large parts the outfit that were still blue.  Something the extremely self-conscious wearer was not too happy about. No, not too happy about it at all.

He shot a dark glare at a meek boy in the crowd, amid giggles from many of the children in the audience, and slowly made his way through the throngs of townsfolk towards the tall thin-ish teen.

‘ I guess the faded look is in, Geoffrey.’ Louis hushed his tone whilst towering over his prey.

‘ W-Why didn’t you just bring the white one in-instead? You-’ Geoffrey’s usual stutter was now much more pronounced due to fear.

‘I don’t r-recall asking for your sug-g-gestions, JB.’ Louis predictably cut Geoffrey off, producing a well-practiced smile to keep up the pretence of a friendly chat.

The JB acronym standing for Jelly Butt. Doesn’t take rocket science to figure out the events that led to Geoffrey’s unfortunate nickname.

‘Anyway it doesn’t matter,’ He continued in a tone still not audible to the townsfolk, ‘ I could do this in my boxer shorts, something I’m sure the ladies around here would highly appreciate. But that’s a whole ‘nother event on its own. What do you think?’ he patted Geoffrey’s shoulder, more false camaraderie for the crowd.

‘ I’ll deal with you later, and you thought jelly in your pants was bad. When I’m done with you bro, the name Jelly-Butt will be butt, a fond memory.’

Louis had, on a whim, devised this menial and pointless chore for Geoffrey expecting him to fail. He wanted a fashionably faded garment for his big performance and was sure Geoffrey would hash it up, till he saw the end product and didn’t admit it, but he actually liked it. The gi had started out white and through careful dye work and chloride placement, Geoffrey had made it look like a faded blue. But Kate, Louis’s Mother, had other ideas. She found Geoffrey’s labour of duress draped untidily over a chair and promptly added it to a wash load with the rest of Louis’s sweaty sports clothes. Geoffrey had not yet added the colour fixing agent.

Afterward Kate insisted Louis not blow off his friend’s effort he simply had to wear it. Louis knew the tactical importance of appearing as the faithful buddy in the eyes of his parents. He smiled and said he would honour his friend.

Kate smiled, giving her son the thumbs up from her spot in the center of the crowd, bursting with maternal affection. He smiled and waved back. Louis turned smartly on his heels, heading for the large billboard welded precariously to the back of the stage. It sported his name and that of the animal shelter, in that order. At only sixteen years of age Louis already had the height and physique of an athlete beyond his years. He ruled his high school fiefdom with an iron fist, like no other bully before him. Not just a good athlete at almost every sport, but his uncommon memory made him one his school’s top academic achievers and this is where he had them. No teacher (save Yamada) or member of the community would ever believe him to be Florence High’s own student version of Stalin. Skipping two grades on the way to his final school year thus far, many members of the student body had often heard their parents drop ‘subtle’ hints Have you heard that Louis just won this national Olympiad or that national sports award? or the direct cliché: Why can’t you be more like that nice Yoshimura boy? . Fortunately Geoffrey’s supportive parents never used either comparison. Louis ran up the wooden stairs onto the obviously temporary platform. The makeshift wooden stage creaked ominously under the weight of three teens. Louis’s best friend Jonas held up a large cement brick for the audience. He set the brick gently down on the stage floor, picked up a sledgehammer, gave the brick a gentle practice tap, raised the large hammer up high and brought it down at full speed. The stage shuddered under the force from the impact, but the brick remained unaltered.

The thought crossed Collin’s mind of pulling large wooden splinters from his skin for the rest of the day, if the stage collapsed beneath his thin frame. He felt Louis’s eyes on the back of his neck and remembered it was his turn to speak, to capitalize on the dramatic effect.

‘ A-As you can see ladies and gentlemen this brick was especially cast for this demonstration by the Chem Club, it’s pretty obvious this ain’t no ordinary rock. Na-mean.’ Collin felt a bit like cheesy ringmaster, ‘ I just hope, the carpentry boys built this stage with the same care Chem club used to make dat brick.’ He said under his breath, as Jonas held up the brick once again to soft muttering from the crowd.

Louis snatched the mic from a surprised Collin, not used to sharing it with anyone.

‘Silence please.’

An immediate hush fell over the hundreds on the lawn, everyone maintained the order, all except for one. A boy who’d just arrived at the back of the crowd. He had dark brown hair desperately in need of a haircut, other than that he was average in every way. Height, build, weight: all run-of-the-mill. His grades were pretty average too, Yamada’s philosophy class being the exception.  All pretty average, except his eyes. They held something radically different in them. At first glance they appeared nondescript brown like many others, but if one continued to look they would occasionally flash the slightest hint of blue or an even slighter hint of green when he turned to left sometimes. But it took time and patience to observe this phenomenon, which is why hardly anybody in the fast paced modern world knew, save his family and one close friend. Both believing they had imagined it whenever it occurred. He stood next to Yamada.

‘ So what I miss anything Sensei?’ He addressed Yamada by the nickname, which much to Yamada’s dismay, soon caught on throughout the entire student body and some of the faculty too. Though no one would ever use it to his face, except this boy.

‘ No Trate-San, just’oo in time for main event.’ Yamada said in his best fake Japanese accent, though his face remained sombre.

He actually had a brilliant command of English, although his country of birth was Japan. Meanwhile on stage, Louis was doing some deep breathing techniques along with some circular arm movements (the arm movements were, once again, for dramatic effect). But Trate was fully aware of Louis’s true intentions. The charity event providing the perfect cover for what this actually was: a great opportunity for Louis to inflate his already gigantic ego. Another chance to cement his status with the parents of the town, scoring some major brownie points in the process, and Louis - was big on brownie points.

 Jonas held up the target, Louis took his position; even Trate and Yamada were now silent. Louis took one step back, and so did Collin. He spread his legs apart into a wide, low stance. His left leg extended out in front of his body, the knee bent at almost ninety degrees, while he slid his right leg backwards and kept his right knee straight, but bent slightly shy of being locked. His left arm stuck out straight in line with his shoulders, like a steel pipe in front of a dummy, his right arm remained cocked and ready at his right hip. Looking like someone climbing a very steep hill and clutching onto a fistful of grass with his left hand.

Trate moved to a small embankment at the back of the crowd and watched Louis initiate his strike. Slowly lifting his left foot, letting out a low moaning sound and bringing his foot down even slower than he had lifted it up!  Eight seconds passed before Trate wondered if Louis’s foot would ever find terra firma again.

And when was he going to close his mouth and stop all that weird groaning? Trate thought.

This all seemed like a very weird ritual, even for Louis. Trate turned to see what Yamada thought, but found him looking quickly through the audience, like a frantic parent scanning for a lost toddler, pretty weird for the always-calm Yamada too. Trate turned to see if anyone else found Louis’s behaviour strange, but they all seemed too transfixed with the performance on stage to notice the comical display. Nobody moved, nobody stirred.

He figured he’d take a hint from the crowd and just watch the show; he turned back to the stage. To his amazement it was over!

The audience erupted into applause in the moment it took him to look back and were now obscuring his view as they jostled to catch a better glimpse of the stage.

Why is everyone applauding? He hasn’t broken the brick yet, Trate thought as confusion set in.

He pushed his way to the outskirts of the crowd and climbed the branches of an old Oak at the edge of the lawns. As he reached the third branch, he need climb no further. Above the noisy cheering crowd the whole scene became visible.

 The first thing he noted was Collin, not saying anything, while he still had the mic in his hand! He just stood there, frozen and speechless like the mannequin he resembled. Trate couldn’t recall the last time Collin the em-cee was lost for words. Jonas raised Louis’s left hand above both their heads, in a victorious gesture, but Trate still couldn’t see the brick. He turned his gaze to the floor of the stage, from this distance he couldn’t see it very well, he strained his eyes, ‘If I could just catch the smallest glimpse’, he thought in frustration…

 The floor of the stage suddenly became very clear. He could see little rocks scattered across it, he could make out every detail about them from their size, to their texture, and even the tiny shadows they cast on the stage floor! They were very uneven, as if they’d been crudely hacked out of a bigger piece of the same colour. Trate made the connection.

The people of Florence had seen many thrilling performances roll through their little town over the years, so why were they all so impressed by this small time side show of brute strength. There was nothing really special about it; many martial artists on T.V. do the same thing all the time. But Louis had not just split the brick in two. It appears that he’d actually hit the chemically reinforced target so hard, it shattered!

Impossible!

He gazed once more at the remains of the brick strewn across the stage, this time they did not appear as clearly. He looked to a shocked Louis, who just stood on stage, staring at the floor blankly, as Jonas thrust his limp hand into the air yet again. Trate knew Louis’s reputation of strength, he knew he was strong, but surely not that strong? He was now more confused than before. How did Louis get so strong in such a short period of-

CRASH!

The stage finally lost its battle with gravity. Trate watched the audience surge backwards in fear, then like a wave returning to the ocean, the moving mass below him surged forward. Presumably to catch a glimpse or to help the youths trapped under the rubble. Trate sprang right off the third branch without much thought as to how far from the ground he really was. He nudged, jostled and bumped his way through the crowd as he tried to get closer to the stage. He could care less about Louis or Jonas, but he was always ready to help out cheerful Collin. To his delight when he got there he found Collin was actually one of the rescue workers, pulling large chunks of chipboard out the way so the impromptu rescue team could get to the two still trapped. In spite of his dislike for the victims, Trate pitched in too.

An hour later Trate watched the paramedics usher the still standing Louis and Jonas into the ambulance. All in all they didn’t come away too badly, from the paramedics initial assessment. Jonas sustained a mild concussion while Louis emerged with two broken ribs, a fractured forearm and Trate’s personal favourite, a broken jaw.

He could already picture Louis’s frustration in trying to issue out muffled orders to his minions in the weeks to come. Pretty poignant, considering the many Louis had silenced over the last two years.

Trate smiled, wondering if it was wrong to rejoice at Louis’s pain. Just then he noticed Geoffrey on the far end of the lawn making his way home. He remembered the various injuries and humiliations Geoff had sustained at the hands of Louis and his cronies. He remembered that Geoff, never reported or complained about the physical and verbal abuse - ever. Suddenly he didn’t feel so guilty anymore.

 He waited till the crowd dispersed, then made his way to the road. He’d barely left the immaculate lawn when he heard the hurried sounds of grass being crushed beneath running feet behind him. In the next instant he turned and dodged a series of well-placed punches. He was slipping beneath the blows pretty well until… wham!

‘ Oh Yeah!  Knew I’d get you eventually, homes!’ Bellowed the hazy figure above Trate.

Chapter 2

Secret Text

With his head still reeling, Trate stood to face his opponent but smiled. The assailant was not at all surprised by the grin.

‘ Pretty damn good huh?’ The mystery figure said.

Trate nodded, then an instant later a dark expression came over his face.

‘ Akira Deschamps!’ Trate barked so loud that a few birds took off from a nearby tree and flew off into the Atlantic sunset.

Akira walked/stretched the right arm that landed the blow, he was the same height as Trate although much more muscular, and wore his hair in the same tousled around fashion. Neither cared much for gel or mirror hugging in the mornings. In fact it had probably been about a week since either of them had used a hairbrush other than their hands. Akira’s blue eyes, a gift from his French Father, appraised Trate strangely.

‘ Gees dude, what’s with the ruckus?’

‘ That’s the response Ma will have when she finds out you and I were sparring again.’ Trate said, Akira was used to Trate referring to his Mother as Trate’s own.

‘ Two things, number 1: It’s all fun and games till the stress gives you piles, so chill. Number dos: I thought you wanted me to pull a surprise one on you, remember? You -’ Akira jabbed a finger into Trate’s chest, ‘- said it’s the only way of knowing if you’re truly ready.’

‘ I meant in a setting with less people around.’

‘ Oh I get it! You wanted that candlelight dinner for two type thing right? I lean across the table, look deep into your eyes and then try to punch your lights out?’ Akira smirked. ‘ Besides this is Florence High, last time I checked your Father was a student here what? Twenty years ago, so who’d have really seen us?’

‘ Your little brothers.’ Trate said.

‘ Ha, what would they want here on a Sun…’Akira stopped short. ‘Crap – I forgot!’

Trate nodded.‘ Crap indeed. Let’s see: Small town- not much entertainment- Sunday afternoon – high school fair. Um…’ Trate said in mock contemplation.‘ What’s missing.’

‘ Everyone will attend.’ Akira answered in boredom, seeing where this was going.

‘ But why everyone?  Don’t the parents have better things to do?’

‘ Because the little ones aren’t going to fly here now are they? ’ Akira headed off Trate’s next sarcastic point. ‘ My mum and brothers would’ve been here - together. I get it okay. So did they see us, cos I don’t see them now?’ Akira searched the edges of the field.

‘ No, luckily they left just before Louis’s little demo. Look… it’s a stupid rule in any case, but for the time being we have to be extra careful.’

The rule that Trate was referring to was an inexplicable ban that had suddenly been issued by both Akira’s parents and Trate’s dad. Both boys had been trained in various martial arts since childhood by Titus, Trate’s father. However they now found themselves suddenly forbidden from any kind of contact sport. Up until the ban Trate and Akira were the only ones that Louis hadn’t tried his luck on, but Trate knew all that might change if Louis ever got wind of the ban. It irritated Trate just thinking about the senseless restraining order.

‘So did you get it?’ Trate asked to change the subject

Akira looked up with his trademark mischievous smile, Trate had the answer he needed. Akira reached into his backpack, checked the coast and quickly handed Trate an old book, which Trate quickly stored in his backpack too.

‘ Blue Warrior came through after all. What does he look like?’ Trate asked.

‘ Don’t know. It was really shady place he picked for us to meet. A real dingy corner of the city’s industrial district, in an alley of all places. He came wearing a ski mask. At first I almost took off running but he shouted the password before I could, so I knew it was him. Then he just asked for the cash, counted it and tossed the book behind me. I went to pick it up and- ’

‘ When you turned around, he was gone right.’ Trate finished, ‘ It figures, remember how long I had to surf the net to even learn about that phantom.’

‘ Fa- what ?’

‘ A phantom, you know a ghost?’

‘ Why didn’t you just say ghost?’

‘ Never mind.’ Trate resigned himself.

‘ So tomorrow night it’s going down at Okiy’s place. As usual her Mother is booked out to her next sight for about a month.’

‘ What about Johanna and her Dad?’

‘ They know nothing of the ban.’

‘ Tomorrow night it is then.’ Trate said as they exchanged their patented farewell handshake.

‘ Later homes.’

Akira walked a little distance to the student parking lot, and jumped on his 650cc bike, the maximum power the law allows until he’s eighteen, so naturally he modified it so she puts out, as Akira would say. Trate walked around the other corner to his almost identical bike and sped off for Villa Oceania, home to his family for the last four generations.

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Trate rushed through his homework that night and left out his philosophy assignment. His ability in the subject would allow him to complete it in the free period before Yamada’s class. Though as the philosophy textbook hit the pile with the others, a twinge of old fear rattled in the corner of his mind. He remembered that Yamada did not take kindly to incomplete tasks. He’d been on his bad side before; in fact he was the first one to test the water.

When Yamada first came to Florence High, Trate decided to conduct some experiments to gauge the old man’s level. He was only in the eighth grade then and considered by many to be the King of pranks. The day he crossed Yamada that all changed.

‘ Please let Yamada call in sick tomorrow.’ He pleaded to the powers that be. His hands dove greedily into his rucksack and fumbled around for a minute.

Out it came:

The Truth of the Effortless Way

Read the words splayed out in gold lettering across the old cover of the book, with some strange Asian characters set below the title. Trate opened it to the second page, held it to his face and took a deep breath. He loved the smell of old books and how they had the ability to transcend-

‘ EEW!’ Trate squealed, realising how girly that sounded, a word he didn’t often use. He cleared his throat in a manly way to cover.

The book smelled like something similar to a landfill he’d visited one summer’s day with his dad. They were there to offload some rubble from renovations. The smell that day was overpowering, but this book was even worse. Trate tossed it into a corner of his large loft bedroom, and wiped his now watering eyes.

What to do? The odour was so pungent that he was pretty sure he would barely be able to concentrate. But he had to read it; this was the only means for Akira and himself to learn new techniques to defend against Louis. Trate had known for a while now that Louis’s skill was growing and the brick demonstration confirmed his prediction. He held his breath and walked over to the corner where the now open book lay. He picked it up and carefully opened it to the first page as he walked back to his desk. However attempting to hold his breath and read at the same time was proving very difficult, so, with much rue, he let out a noisy gasp and sucked in all the oxygen around his head.

He braced himself for the onslaught his poor nose would soon bear, a couple of seconds passed, the air was clear. Only the faint smell of sweet incense that usually wafted through the house in the evenings was present. Had I just imagined the whole thing?

He held the book close (but not too close) to his nose once again, and sniffed lightly. The stench hit him like an anvil to the nostrils.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE? Trate wondered.

When he finally regained his sense of smell a few minutes later, he found that his feet had automatically carried him to a safe distance. He cautiously approached the text for a third time, fighting his now reluctant body for every step. He stopped and considered forgetting about the whole thing, a vision of Louis restyling Akira’s hair in the boys’ toilet soon gave that notion the boot. Trate steeled himself and sat down forcefully at his desk, nothing was going to faze him. Besides, he’d seen many instances on T.V. where people had adapted themselves to much worse than this. He would just have to learn to adapt as well. He removed the hand that offered the only barrier against the stench.

The familiar pure scent of incense greeted his nose once more; the odour appeared to have vanished, again. He decided to let sleeping odours lie and fought off the curiosity of another sniff. He opened to the first page and let his eyes eagerly soak in those first words. From this moment on Louis’s days were numbered:

"Chapter 1

Abandon Pursuit "

‘Great! What’s that supposed to mean?!’

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 Rain against a large windowpane jarred Trate from his sleep early the next morning; he sprang out of bed and raced over to the wooden frame. He loved to watch storms over the Atlantic and since he was up early he could spare fifteen minutes. Any first grader knew it wasn’t safe to watch lightning from behind glass, but this was something he’d loved doing since before the first grade. He watched the dull sky reach down from its abode to touch the ocean surface with blinding arms.

‘ At it again I see.’ the light baritone voice of his Father interrupted Trate’s distant gaze.

‘ Oh uh…Morning Dad. Did you notice the dogs are a bit jumpy?’ Trate said faking concern for their two Great Danes, Strider and Striker.

‘Relax, I gave up trying to discourage you a long time ago.’ Titus saw right through his son’s façade.

Trate smiled, he wasn’t fond of being predictable.

‘ Once in the fifth grade, when I was sent to see the Principal for the second time that day, I really considered giving it up.’ Trate fell silent for a moment, there was no need to rush. Titus would let him finish, he admired his Dad for his ability to listen, something he was still getting the hang of himself. Without taking his eyes off the storm he continued.

‘ As usual during her lesson, Ms. Hall caught me watching the lightning instead of the board. She'd tried three times before that to move me as far away from the window as possible.’ An ear splitting clap of thunder, forced an interlude in Trate’s story. Titus was stunned for a moment, but Trate remained fixed on the stormy Atlantic.

‘Luckily, the principal was called away early, so Hall took me to see the Head of her Science department - Pillod. It was the first time I’d ever met him and I’ll never forget what he said to me that day. He told me: My boy, I’ve see em come and go throughout my twenty-three years teaching and it’s always the strange one’s who change the world.  If you ever stop this habit of yours I’ll give you detention for a whole month. Understand? 

‘ Of course what he told Hall was a completely different story. So every time there was a thunderstorm after that, I could be found sitting in the window box in the corner of Pillod’s office.’ Trate turned to face his Dad, Titus smiled.

‘ You wouldn’t know why I like to do this? I mean, I’ve never seen you do it so I figure it must’ve come from…Mom.’

The smiled faded from his Father’s face, in spite of Titus’s efforts to conceal his discomfort. Trate knew it hurt his father to speak of his dead wife, but he never failed to answer any questions the teen had about his Mother.

‘ There was never a rainy morning after we were married that I wouldn’t come up these stairs to find Tru in that same spot doing the exact same thing.’ Titus smiled down at his son.

‘ Now go get ready, I have to leave a bit earlier today.’ Titus turned to leave his son’s loft and then suddenly stopped midway in his stride.

   ‘ Sorry. Even though a senior now, I still can’t get used to the fact that you’re now able to take yourself to school.’

‘ It’s cool, it isn’t a good idea to go riding in the rain’ Trate grabbed his towel and toothbrush, ‘ though I may love thunderstorms, I’d prefer getting to school with a dry butt.’

‘ Then be ready in 40 minutes.’

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The day flew past quickly and to Trate’s great relief Yamada called in sick. Later in the day, Akira and Trate found themselves blessed with extra time, sitting on the stairs in front of the lawns basking in the utter laziness of the moment. Innocent contentment seeped in along with the warmth from the afternoon sun.

‘ What a day! No Yamada and No  Louis. Doesn’t get much better than this!’ Akira couldn’t wipe the smile of his face even if he tried. He was fortunate enough to have Yamada teach him two subjects, Math in addition to philosophy, so he’d scored double the time off. He was feeling so inspired that he even slipped out of English class earlier in the day and arranged a secret make-out session with Jennifer, his long time girlfriend. No mean feat considering that Jen’s Mother taught Akira’s English class.

‘Hi guys!’ a soft voice followed the soft presence that preceded it.

Trate became faintly aware of the subliminal scent of jasmine filtering through his nostrils, he recognised that perfume.

‘ Okiy!’ Akira raised himself from the sun-baked concrete floor and embraced their new companion. ‘ Good to have you back homes!’ 

‘ So Trate, don’t I get a hug from you too?’ She smiled at her friend.

Trate looked up at Okiana Senokae, his long time friend and was reminded again of why he now secretly wished for more. She had grown very dearly, her hair was the dark colour of her Native American ancestors but had a subtle variance of tones cosmetics companies would kill to bottle. Her skin bore hues of the forest. Much in her hinted of nature, almost as if the Ancient spirits had poured their unbridled passion for creation into the body of this girl. Her classic facial features often reminded Trate of the stars from old musicals. She dressed simply but that didn’t stop the head turning.

How nice, Trate thought, she doesn’t even know the effect she has on male population of this school does she?

Oblivion to her own beauty just aided her charm, a side effect of the good grounding from Johanna, her housekeeper. She had seen to it at an early age that Okiana did not carried away in