HOUR OF POWER

STICK TO THE PLAN

The metal pole was cold, almost freezing. Perhaps it was because winter had begun to set in or because it was ages since I last took a bus. I had my one hand latched unto it anyway while the other clasped the grocery bags.

The rumble of the engine mixed with the endless chatter annoyingly, drowning the voice of my thoughts.

"Put me out of my misery." I wailed inside.

I planned that Saturday was for catching up on "Castle of the Dragons" and I was well underway on executing my plan when mom knocked on my room door and told me how something urgent had come up at work and how it might prevent her from getting to the mall on time.

So as a 'good' only child of my beloved mother, I traveled halfway across town to purchase cabbage and some other garbage-sorry vegetables.

But I knew she enjoyed eating them and though I could never feel the same way, I wanted her happy. She'd done so much to take care of us ever since dad went missing.

But that's all I knew, she had done so much. What exactly? She never told me. I just knew she had a job that required "courage, wit and 'magic'" in her words.

The bus abruptly came to a halt.

I looked down at the groceries and did a rough weight check before joining the hoard of people to exit the bus.

The cold breeze washed over my face as my sneakers hit the floor.
My sandy blonde hair danced to its sway.

I immediately appreciated my choice of a sweater vest while at the same time regretting that it wasn't long enough.

Well, I thought while looking at the sunset. Things will only get colder
****
On reaching the door of our bungalow, I heaved a sigh as I trudged the final steps to the handle.

Eager to escape the cold I tried the handle but to my surprise, it was locked.

Mom's not back yet? I pondered, digging my free hand into my pocket to find the spare key.

However, my attention was immediately drawn to a letter pinned at the top of the door. I chided myself for not seeing it initially.

I pulled out the strand of duct tape that fixed it to the door and grabbed the letter, bringing it close to my face;

"My brave boy, I'm coming home late. The emergency was more serious than I imagined. I sent you shopping to make sure you wouldn't be around when they came to the house. I'm sorry for keeping you in the dark like this. You're no longer a child and I know that. I promise I will explain everything when I'm back. For now, I just want you to pay close attention;
They're coming again at nightfall, some bad people but don't panic. Don't hide out in the Smiths' either, you'll only be endangering them. I wish I could come back before then but don't worry. Here's what I want you to do; dash up to my room the moment you see this and take that spiral stick on my vanity table. It will protect you until I'm back. And dear, please clutch that stick as though your life depended on it, and trust me when I say it just might.
-Your starlight, Mom."

My mind was blank, my heart was racing. What's going on here?

I knew very well that it was mom who wrote this. Beyond the handwriting, I could see her personality painted in every sentence.

"Mom, why are hiding so many secrets from me?" I whispered.

Biting my lip was the only way to control the tears from streaming out. She was the only person in the world I could trust, but I always suppressed the question "why doesn't she trust me?"