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  THE GIFT OF FALL

  The Cyborg Sectors Book 3

  by Alex Leu

  CELINE LOOKED UP AT the blackboard and the gibberish confirmed her biggest fears. She was in a prison that she desperately needed to escape from, at least until the bell rang. Staring at a blank page in her sketchbook, Celine reached inside her bag and secretly plotted her escape. Her fingers dove to the bottom, underneath the books and homemade lunch, until they found the key to her freedom. She gently placed it on the vast white world of possibilities and smiled looking at the blue crayon in her hand.

  A thin blue line danced over the white page, and as she heard the soft hum of ocean waves, Celine was gone. The warm ocean breeze brushed through her dark curls and she sat on a sand hill watching a school of dolphins jump in and out of the water and across the evening sunset. It was the most beautiful place she had ever seen. Celine took a deep breath and let the fresh saline air fill her soul when suddenly a tear in the sky jolted her back to reality.

  She felt like someone punched her in the gut, all the precious air knocked straight out of her lungs when the colorful page from her sketchbook was ripped by Egon’s pull. He had reached across the classroom aisle and stolen her most beautiful and precious escape, the drawing before her. Celine lunged at him but was far too short to reach her drawing from Egon’s raised hand and he taunted her as he let the page wrinkle in the air high above his head.

  “Jim, you wanna go swimming?” Egon said with a vicious laugh.

  “Give it back!” Celine cried as she continued to lunge at him trying to get her drawing.

  Egon crumbled the drawing into a ball and threw it to Jim when suddenly Mrs. Roberts snatched it in mid-air.

  “No wonder our football team hasn’t won a single game this year,” said Mrs. Roberts. “But no worries boys, keep fooling around and soon even your grandmas will catch your passes.”

  Ashamed, Egon and Jim looked down at their books.

  Mrs. Roberts walked to her desk and turned before sitting down. “And Celine, I expect better from you. Let me catch you drawing in class again and you’ll finally meet the principal!”

  Celine stared the teacher straight in the eyes and sat back down obediently but still determined to find a wonderful escape.

  Mrs. Roberts noticed her resistance. “Why don’t you finish the problem on the board?”

  Celine smiled politely then got up and stepped on Egon’s foot on her way to the blackboard. His manly facade was not strong enough to conceal the minor pain, so he let out a loud high-pitched squeal then shamefully kept his head down hoping no one had heard him.

  Celine approached the blackboard praying for a miracle to save her, or at least the school bell, but all she heard was her father reminding her about the sacrifices he had made to afford this highly pretentious school.

  She picked up a piece of chalk and faced the gibberish on the blackboard above her. The board was so big and perfect for a mural, a mandala, or even a wild paint splatter. Anything but this waste of space and time.

  The classroom door opened and the principal rushed inside.

  “Sit down,” he told Celine before he addressed the teacher and the rest of the class. It was her lucky day, after all, her prayer had been answered. She turned and walked to her desk trying to hide her relief.

  “Good afternoon everyone!” said the principal. “Today is a very special day for our school, and especially for this class. A new student will be joining you. Technology has given him a new chance at life, and I expect that each of you will give him a chance as well. So, my dear tenth-grade class, please give him a warm welcome.” He turned towards the door, “Billy, you can come in now.”

  Almost as one, the entire class turned their heads to face the door. Each student waiting, hoping, some for a geek, or a new friend, some for yet another kid to pick on, but no one was prepared for what they saw.

  The faint sound of hydraulics made its way from the hallway and a dead silence took over the class when a slightly older boy stepped through the door.

  Billy was his name, the principal had explained, and due to an unfortunate car accident he wasn’t able to attend school for quite a few years, but now he was eager to get back on track and make up for what he had missed.

  Billy stood in silence next to the principal feeling like the freak in a circus show. This was his fourth school in the last month. He wanted to hope that it would work out this time, but there was no hope left in his right eye. It stared coldly into space, and now it finally matched the cold stare of his mechanical left eye implant. A cross-section of the left side of his head, his left eye, and some features of his face, had been replaced by a skin colored material that stood out even from a distance.

  “Come on Billy, show them how amazing and cool you are,” nervously smiled the principal. “Show them the future.”

  Billy took out his left hand from his jacket’s pocket and revealed a prosthetic wrist with a palm and fingers that were anything but cool — a metallic ball with five bending hooks. At the previous schools he hid it before anyone got a chance to look at it, but here he decided to let them have it. He was used to the staring and in a way enjoyed the shocking reactions he got from people.

  Everyone imagined the future would be about flying cars, phones that had video screens, or even cooking robots, but none thought it would come in the form of Frankenstein.

  Mrs. Roberts turned away to hide her disgust and a few chuckles resonated throughout the classroom. The principal gave the teacher a cold stare trying to hide his boiling anger.

  “Class, let's say 'hi' to Billy,” demanded the teacher.

  “Hi Billy...” an unfriendly group welcome followed.

  Billy couldn't care less and nodded.

  “Great,” exclaimed the principal relieved. “Soon you're all going to be great friends. Now Billy, please pick an empty seat and let’s continue the lesson.”

  The principal gave Mrs. Roberts a disappointing smile then whispered something to her while pointing at Billy before leaving.

  Billy scanned the class for a seat. Among the stares and offending whispers, not a single face showed the promise of a friend. But how could they when even adults were turned off by his presence? What wouldn't he give to be in one of these students’ shoes, to be carefree, to be normal, to be fully human again. The more he looked at them the more he envied them and their most beautiful years of which he had been robbed.

  Billy settled on an empty seat in the back and stepped down the aisle and towards his last attempt at making this school thing work. He was tired of trying, of the emotional pain and humiliation, and if it wasn’t going to work out this time, he was determined to end it.

  He walked confidently, trying to appear like he didn’t care what anyone thought of him, but when he hid the prosthetic hand in his pocket, Celine knew there was much more to him than he liked to show. Billy was older than everyone in the class, not only did he have his fair share of facial hair, but his features were not typical of your average sixteen-year-old. His clothes were less “cool” and actually fit his body, unlike the oversized clothes all the boys in the class would wear. But what Celine noticed more than anything in Billy, wasn’t his prosthetic hand, but the look in his eyes. It was a focused, serious, and mature look, one that she hadn’t seen in a boy before, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if he would just look at her.

  Egon peaked across the aisle a
t Celine and knew that he was losing her. He pushed his thick math book to the edge of his desk and into Billy who accidentally knocked the book off the table.

  “Hey! Watch it freak!” exploded Egon. The class froze and stared at them along with the teacher.

  Billy picked up the book with his prosthetic hand and held it in front of Egon.

  “Here you go buddy, sorry about that.”

  They stared at each other for a moment when Egon realized that Billy’s prosthetic fingers were slowly sinking into his thick book.

  “Hey! That's my...”

  Billy dropped the heavy book on Egon's crotch and everyone watched him turn red from the pain. Even the teacher knew that this meant war.

  From the corner of his eye, Egon saw Celine trying to hide her smile and couldn’t let this end in Billy’s favor. He puffed up and shot straight up from his chair.

  “Sit down!” commanded the teacher. “Everyone open your books to the next chapter. George, step up to the blackboard.”

  Egon sat down and looked back at Billy who continued down the aisle and sat in the last row behind Celine. Out of all the empty seats the bastard had to pick that one. Egon faced the blackboard determined to find a way, a weak spot to get him back.

  Celine was giggling at the incident and turned back to get her book from the bag when her eyes met Billy's. She smiled. He didn't. Billy kept looking at her when his face cringed as if from terrible pain and he darted out of the classroom.

  “He couldn't even last five minutes!” Egon shouted and the class erupted with laughter.

  “Stop it immediately and get back to work!” yelled the teacher attempting to regain control.

  Everyone laughed except Celine. She watched Billy run out and wondered why he cringed so badly. Was it because of her? He didn’t leave anything behind, not even his schoolbag, and considering the way the class welcomed him, she couldn’t blame Billy, but still, she hoped he would come back.

  < >

  After the break, the school bell rang and one by one the students returned to class.

  Celine hung her jacket in her locker, then walked into the classroom and saw Billy. She couldn't smile at him again, so she walked to her desk as if nothing had happened, but the closer she got, the more she noticed that something was wrong. The look, the mature look in Billy’s eyes was gone and he was staring into nothing, dazed and frozen in his chair as if his mind escaped to some other land.

  The teacher wasn’t back yet so Celine sat at her desk, opened her sketchbook and toyed with her pen as she thought of Billy and where he may have escaped to. Celine wondered if there was room for her too, wherever he was, when she was interrupted from her reverie as her sketchbook was snatched straight from under her hand.

  “Hey, look everyone!” yelled Jim as he ran around the classroom with the sketchbook opened to a specific drawing.

  Celine caught up to him just as Jim threw the sketchbook to other kids who began to laugh hysterically at the drawing. Celine anxiously chased her sketchbook until it landed right at Billy's feet and suddenly the whole commotion stopped.

  It took Billy a moment to come back to his senses and reach down for the sketchbook. He slowly picked it up, dusted it off, and opened it.

  Celine's heart began to beat faster and faster with every page he turned through. She hoped he would stop, but she also wanted him to see it, and maybe even see her.

  “Give it back to her,” Jim laughed. “Can’t you see she’s about to faint?”

  Celine slowly approached Billy, waiting for the moment when he would see it. The tension ate at her until she couldn’t bear it anymore.

  “Can I please have it back?”

  Billy kept his eyes on the sketchbook, slowly browsing through the pages when he suddenly stopped. His cold pale cheeks warmed into a rosy color upon seeing a drawing of the principal introducing him to the class.

  Celine didn’t know whether he liked it or felt embarrassed by the drawing. Time seemed to stop as she nervously waited to be rejected.

  “Make out already you freaks,” yelled one of the students.

  Billy closed the sketchbook, and handed it back to Celine, finally looking straight into her eyes.

  Celine nervously scrunched a handful of her pink dress trying to maintain eye contact. It was too intense. Her eyes ran down to the sketchbook as she slowly took it from his hands, ready to apologize for embarrassing him in front of the class.

  “They are very beautiful,” said Billy. “Wish I could draw like you.”

  Celine’s hands froze holding on to the sketchbook and all the composure she had left. Hardly anyone ever spoke to her, and if they did, it was either because they were making fun or asking her to move out of the way. It was never like this. She replayed his words in her mind to make sure her reaction was appropriate, but she didn’t even know how to react to something she never experienced before. No one had ever spoken to her like that, let alone ever said anything nice about her art. Her eyes began to tear up as she desperately tried to keep her joyful yet painful tears at bay. Incapable of saying anything, she could only express her gratitude with a very shy nod.

  The entire class was unscrupulously watching the exchange, some bewildered, others jealous. Egon sneaked up behind Celine and violently grabbed the sketchbook from her hands then ran away.

  Celine’s peaceful bubble immediately burst, hardly able to react when Billy got up and gently pushed her aside to go after Egon. Feeling the warm touch of his hand, her built up tears finally escaped, falling so fiercely that she was unable to hide them.

  Silence fell over the class and they watched in eager anticipation as Billy stepped slowly yet confidently in Egon’s pursuit. Reaching the end of the classroom’s length, Egon looked back frantically and for a moment lost his cool. No one had ever chased after him, he felt trapped like a rat with nowhere to go, but as he heard the squeak of Billy’s prosthetic joints, he found his way back on top.

  “Ha... He sounds just like my grandma!” Egon feebly proclaimed facing the class in the hope of gaining their support. But the class was too preoccupied with following Billy’s steady walk and the slow rise of his prosthetic hand that prepared to teach Egon a lesson.

  “No!” cried Celine.

  Billy dropped his metallic fist on a nearby desk instead. The wood cracked and with it Egon's courage as he froze with his hands cowardly hovering above his head.

  “Stop it, both of you!” Celine yelled. “And leave Billy alone or I'll tell the principal!”

  Celine grabbed the sketchbook from Egon’s shaking hands then rushed back to her desk.

  Billy turned and walked to his seat, and back to life. Where there hadn’t been any hope, now appeared a bright glimmer in his eyes. None of the previous mistreatments mattered anymore because he was no longer alone. Someone cared, someone cared enough to remember his name.

  When Egon flexed his way back out of the wimpy stance, he puffed out his chest and adorned his face with his usual smirk, but one thing he couldn’t get back was his audience. Something had changed, he could see that his classmates were now looking at him differently. The usual looks of support or fear were gone and replaced with pity. Irreparable damage had been done to his status and Egon was bent on revenge, the kind that terrified even him, the kind that no one would be able to come back from.

  Realizing that class would begin any minute, Celine turned back in her seat to get something from her bag and once again found herself facing Billy.

  “Please promise me you won't do that again,” she begged. “It's not worth it, OK?”

  Billy hid his prosthetic hand under the desk and nodded. He immediately felt the guilt for lying to her, because he knew that to him it was worth everything, and he wasn’t ready to leave it at that.

  Mrs. Roberts entered the classroom.

  “Mrs. Roberts, Mrs. Roberts! He broke a desk!” dutifully reported Egon while pointing at Billy.

  Celine ripped a page from her notebook, crushed it into a ball
and violently threw it at Egon's head in hopes of shutting him up.

  Before Egon got a chance to respond, the teacher picked up the paper and unfolded it, discovering a caricature of herself.

  “Well, I'd give you a B+ for the creativity, but this isn't art class, is it?” said Mrs. Roberts. “Gather your belongings and go see what grade the principal will give you!”

  Celine collected her things and passing by Egon on her way out, slapped the back of his head.

  “Say 'hi' to the principal from me,” Egon snapped at her through gritted teeth.

  “Silence!” said the teacher. “Open your notebooks to your homework assignment.”

  Egon turned back for his notebook and caught Billy’s stare which he felt compelled to reciprocate.

  “Who's gonna protect you now?” Egon threatened.

  Billy dismissed him and focused on his work. He didn't care about Egon or anyone else for that matter, for he had finally made a connection.

  < >

  Celine sat across the table from her parents. Dinner was her least favorite meal and now she hated it even more. Her father finished reading a letter from the principal and looked up at Celine. The heavy bags beneath his eyes weighed his face down revealing the built up tears he tried to contain. Celine felt her own tears reaching the surface and looked away.

  Her mother picked up the letter to read it again but couldn’t continue after the first sentence, dropping it on the table. Her weathered hands slowly brushed the wrinkled forehead that gave away her every emotion as she tried to hide her tearful eyes. She wanted to look at Celine but it was too painful, she had never before felt the disappointment in her little angel.

  “Math sucks,” her father read aloud from the principal’s letter. “Is that what you really think?” he asked.

  “No...” she whispered staring down at her still full plate.

  “Then why did you spray paint an entire mural stating this on the back wall of the school!?”

  “I...” Celine began.

  “Stop!” demanded her father. “I don’t want to hear any more about it. Nothing you say could ever be excuse enough for what you did. Do you think your mother and I work our asses off for you to vandalize and graffiti your school?”