Fractals (eBook)

Anomaly

R.C. Gilbert (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2022 | 1. Auflage
252 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-3992-9 (ISBN)

Infos

Among the millions of people whose disappearances remain unsolved, are Rame's parents. Now a transient foster child with anger issues, Rame finally lands in the caring home of the Troutwiths. While Rame explores using her newfound abilities, a dark plot unfolds that threatens Rame, the Archons, and life throughout the galaxy.

R.C. Gilbert grew up in San Francisco Bay Area in the 70's and 80's. He spent his days taking things apart to see how they worked. Unfortunately, they rarely went back together as a working unit. His love of bikes and the outdoors coaxed him to start mountain biking in the late 80's. His love of going fast coaxed him to the starting line of mountain-bike, road, gravel, and cyclocross races over the last thirty years. For many years, he found a home in the teaching science, physical education, and leadership to junior high school students in Northern California. When Gilbert is not writing, he works with school districts as a consultant helping increase the capacity of staff at all levels. He currently resides in Northern California foothills with his wife, kids, and pets.

Textauszug

Chapter 2:
The Way of Things

Rain pattered against the windows of the two-story tan colored house with light green trim on SE Taylor Street. The neighborhood was an extension of a hundred just like it, all densely packed east of the Willamette River in Portland, Oregon. The clouds glowed with the early morning sun, struggling to turn the nighttime into day. The house started to come alive with the sound of several alarms going off; then they all went silent. Several minutes later the alarms started again, only to be silenced by the fingers of school-bound children and teens hoping to get a few more minutes of sleep.

One of the teens emerged from her bedroom, shuffling her feet toward the bathroom with clothes in her hand. Another bedroom door further down the hall swung open wildly, almost hitting her in the face. A freckle-faced boy with brown hair sticking up all different directions shot out into the hall.

“Too slow!” he yelled as he sprinted into the bathroom first and slammed the door.

The girl hung her head, still too tired to react or get upset. This was just the way of things. She leaned against the wall outside the bathroom and waited for him to finish.

A minute later the boy emerged. “Boy, do I feel better!” he quipped.

“I’m so happy to hear that,” the girl grunted.

“Hey Rame, sorry if I missed a little,” he said as he rushed back into his room, shutting the door behind him.

“Gage, you are so gross!” she said through gritted teeth, thoroughly disgusted.

For Rame, the mornings were always chaotic. She tried to be up early, so that she didn’t have to wait for the bathroom. Then there was breakfast. People bumped into each other as they grabbed at food and tried to find a solitary place to eat, which was difficult with so many in a small space. There was very little talking since everyone was glued to their phones, hoping to keep up with the latest social media from around the world or engaged in games. Many of the older teens had virtual reality glasses that allowed them to game while chewing their food. Rame preferred it that way, since she didn’t feel like talking in the mornings anyway.

Even with little talking, the house brimmed with energy from six youth. Greg and Yvonne Troutwith were very kind and patient, fostering up to six children at a time. And right now, their house was bursting at the seams. Rame was placed with them a year ago after her last foster parents decided they couldn’t handle her mood swings anymore.

As soon as she had wolfed down her breakfast and checked in on the social media hubs she enjoyed, Rame grabbed her backpack to head to school.

“Rame, do you have practice after school?” Yvonne asked.

“Yeah,” Rame said as she opened the door to leave.

“Run fast!” Yvonne yelled as Rame stepped out into the light morning rain.

“I’ll try!” Rame said back through the closing door.

Many students in her situation took the bus to school, but Rame preferred to walk the two miles in the rain, or snow, or just about anything instead. The bus was frantic, and she enjoyed the aloneness and quiet afforded her while walking on her own. She pulled up her hood and started down SE Taylor Street. The street was fairly typical. The houses, mostly built in the 1970s, had mature oak and maple trees in the front yards and garages off to the side. Many of the garages had large overhangs built off the front, which housed large, four-person drones. Lawns approached the concrete sidewalk, which was buckled here and there due to tree roots. As Rame turned onto SE 71st Avenue, she noticed that a small stream of water had formed in the rain gutter by the concrete curb at the edge of the road. The sound and sight of the water effortlessly navigating the bumps in the gutter brought her a bit of peace. Small things like that made the walk far more pleasant than riding the crowded school bus.

Rame looked at the houses that lined the opposite side of the street. Most had lights on, and she could hear conversation as children were being rushed to get ready for school. Through the windows of some houses, she could see the children frantically finishing their breakfasts as they were putting on their coats. A gray house she was passing was another foster home, and it too was filled to capacity. There was a virtual train of children and adolescents exiting the house as the bus could be heard in the distance. The other families on the block were intact, a situation that was decreasingly common in the current world climate. While separated families used to be the case due to divorce rates, now it was more because of strange disappearances.

Rame found her thoughts drifting back to the memory of her family life six years before. At eight years old, her life was as close to her version of perfect as possible. She lived in a loving home with incredible parents who happened to both be immigrants. But the fact that they were immigrants didn’t seem to matter to the people she spent her days with. She went to a school where the teachers cared and students weren’t just tolerant, they were accepting.

Her father Miguel grew up in Mexico but had come into the United States as a teenager to work and earn a college degree. He met Rame’s mother, Taraji, while attending courses at Sacramento State University in California. She was an international student from Uganda, earning a degree in civil engineering. After graduating, they both found jobs near Seattle, Washington. Shortly thereafter, Rame was born: Ramona Eshe Lopez.

Taraji cut her hours at work to stay home with Rame, which worked out well since school had to be done remotely starting in 2025, when the third of several viral pandemics began. Rame remembered her mother’s beauty. Her skin was dark brown, almost black, but her eyes were a striking light amber color. Rame remembered her dad saying that he fell in love the moment he saw her. In their sociology class in college, students were randomly selected for group projects. At the end of class, when their group met for the first time, Miguel was mesmerized by Taraji’s eyes. She, on the other hand, was very self-conscious of her eyes, since they were different from anyone else’s in her home village besides her grandmother’s. She often felt singled out because of this, not because of other people, but because she was so self-conscious.

Rame knew how she felt. Between her inherited amber eyes and dark skin, Rame looked different from anyone else at school. That, and the fact that she was in a foster home was pointed out daily by some of the more outspoken students at school.

As Rame walked through the light rain, she shook off the negative thought of her classmates and returned to thinking about her parents. They were both very bright, and even more important, driven. They were each the first in their families to attend college and they both graduated with honors. Rame felt her chin rise a little with pride at that thought. They had each battled so many odds successfully. Even as she felt the pride well up in her, she knew that the most special thing about her parents was the way they treated others and the way they treated her.

Rame vaguely remembered a snowstorm that had left their neighborhood without power. The memory that was most vivid, however, was that of how her parents had opened their home to their neighbors and their children. Several houses near them had been built with electric heaters, so they were getting colder and colder as the days with no power progressed. Rame’s parent’s house had a gas stove and fireplace, so heating and making meals wasn’t an issue. Miguel and Taraji had opened their doors to two other families for an entire week. They had even gave up their bedroom and slept on Rame’s floor to make room for their guests.

Their treatment of Rame had been just as giving on a daily basis. They had been kind and patient. She remembered how Miguel had taught her how to ride a bike. She was so frustrated that she had thrown her bike down at one point. She had sunk to the ground next to it and cried. Miguel just sat down next to her quietly until she stopped crying.

“You let me know when you are ready to try again, and I will do what I can to help you,” he had said quietly with his Spanish accent.

Rame had pouted there sitting on the curb for nearly thirty minutes, talking about how it was too difficult. Miguel had just repeated himself quietly until Rame got up and tried again. When she was successful, he had wrapped her in a big hug, telling her how proud he was that she hadn’t given up. Taraji had treated her in a similar fashion, even as Rame threw tantrums when she didn’t want to do schoolwork. Rame remembered Taraji always being kind, but never giving in to her bad behavior. Even though her mother was strict, Rame knew that she loved her.

Rame’s chin dropped a bit as she thought of their disappearance in 2030 when she was eight. Taraji and Miguel had gone out on a Friday night to celebrate their tenth anniversary. Rame had begged them not to go. She had even resorted to throwing herself on the floor to kick and scream. Still her parents had left to go out to dinner, assuring her they would be home in time to tuck her in and read her a story.

The rest of the night burned in Rame’s memory. She remembered her babysitter Estell had let her stay up late. When Rame finally mentioned being tired, Estell read The Hungry Little Caterpillar to her. Rame remembered Estell seeming restless, checking her phone between pages. Rame hadn’t really been listening to the story anyway. Besides outgrowing that book...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 2.5.2022
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Science Fiction
• ISBN-10: 1-6678-3992-6 / 1667839926
• ISBN-13: 978-1-6678-3992-9 / 9781667839929