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What is ben's parents hiding from him? |
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The master clock Gadi Ballin . Chapter 1: October 2011 I used to go to my dad once a year, so I was really excited, but my mother wasn't. Every year I go through the same thing, I am really excited to go to my dad, and my mother looks terrified. She asks about 1000 times if I am sure I want to go to my dad and I say yes. Now, just for your information, my mother normally doesn’t act like this. I don't have to go to school if I don't want to. I can go to sleep whenever I want, and this is the strangest thing, she says I am better of having a knife with me all the time. All of these rules applied when my parents got divorced. Here are a couple of words about my dad. He is also kind of strange. He doesn't have a job, and instead he travels around the world, and I don’t know the reason. It is kind of strange, because he doesn’t have the money. About 5 years ago my parents got divorced. Don't ask me why, because I have no clue. And now about me. I am 15 year old boy, and my name is Ben. I live in L.A, Hollywood. I forgot to mention this before, but my mother is starting her career as a director. Now you think that my mother is rich, but as I said, she is starting her career, so she doesn’t have much of money. She can barely afford to live here! As to my dad, he lives in San Francisco. He really misses me and my mother, but he can't do anything about it. My mother misses him too. I don't get it, if they miss each other, why don't they get back together? "Honey, do you have your ticket?" asked my mother. "Yes" I said in a sigh. "And the money just in case?" "Yes…" "And what about your-" she looked to the sides "-knife?" "Mum, are you sure they would let me on to the plane with my knife?" "I told you, there is nothing to worry about. Now, are your suitcases packed?" Normally I listen to my mother, but this time I was focused on someone else. He had a brown hat that covered his eyes. He also had a brown coat and shoes. On his hands he had white gloves. He had a long black pair of pants. He seemed to look at me with an evil looking smile. But the thing that bothered me most was his gun. "Call for flight 1069. Call for flight 1069. Please make your way to gate G7. Please make your way to gate G7" "Honey, that is your plane. Are sure you have everything?" "For the one million time, yes!" "Call for flight 1069. Call for flight 1069. Please make your way to gate G7. Please make your way to gate G7" "O.K. Have a nice time. Don't forget you have your thing!" she said in a sad voice. My "thing" is my knife. We say "thing" instead. I started walking to gate G7, while my mother was shouting to me all kinds of stuff; I noticed that the man with the gun went the same way as I. I reached towards my knife. I didn't pull it out, of course, but I was ready to. I got to gate G7, and so did the man with the gun. I had no clue how I will get through the metal detector. My mother told me nothing about how I should get through the metal detector. I saw that the man had the same problem. I was first. I got through the metal detector and it beeped. The woman in charge of the metal detector came towards me and asked my name. I answered "Ben Tame". She let me go on. I looked to see if the man had passed too, and he did. I entered my plane to San Francisco, and took my seat. Luckily, the man didn't have a seat close to me, so I was happy. Do you remember when I said I didn't know why my parents got divorced? Well, that wasn't really true. Whenever I go on a plane to my dad or my mother, I always think about what happened three nights before my parents got divorced. I was ten. It was late at night (for someone that was ten), and I woke up. I came downstairs for a drink of water. In the kitchen my parents were arguing. The second they saw me, they stopped. They gave me a drink of water, and I went upstairs. In my bed, I could still hear them arguing. I listened. "It is too dangerous for him and me to live here!" my mother said in an angry voice. "Calm down! We will put rules to make him safe." "Still… We know that his uncle will try to steal it! And when he will try to, he will kill everything in his way, Including Ben!" I never knew I had an uncle. When I heard that, I was really surprised. Well, yes, I had an uncle, but he was murdered three months before. I didn't really know him, and my dad wasn't in touch with him. "So where're you going to go to, huh?" my dad said in an angry voice. I never heard my dad so angry. "I don't know! But it will be somewhere far, somewhere where Ben will be safe!" "He will be safe here! And you too! I will protect you all." "I, I, I need to think about it…" "There is nothing to be scared of." "I am going upstairs." My mother said. I thought I heard crying a little. I thought about the conversation for a bit, and then I fell asleep. The flight seemed to be very long, although it was only an hour. My dad was waiting for me with his car. "Hey, what's up?" I asked my dad. I didn't sound very excited, But believe me, I was. I totally forgot about the man with the gun. "Cool. Dude, how much did you grow!?" I forgot to say something about my dad. He is the coolest man on earth. He may be a grownup, but he acts like a teenager. He wears clothes like a teenager (I have no clue were he gets them), he talks like a teenager and he wants to be a teenager. "Dad you're embarrassing me!" I said. "In front of whom?" my dad giggled. I saw him again. The man with the gun. He just didn't have his gun. Now I was sure. He was looking at me. I shrugged. "Hey, Beno. Are you with me?" asked I nodded. The nod was a lie. I wasn't. I was looking at the man with the gun. "Come on, let's get your luggage." My dad said and pulled me away. His voice was kind of stressed. I had a feeling he saw the man with the gun too. The last second I saw him, I saw his gun, too. "Dad, who was that?" I asked my dad in his car. He has a Jeep. "Who was who?" asked my dad. He looked very nervous. He knew who I meant. "You know exactly who I mean! That man with the brown hat and shoes." I said angrily. I hate it when people lie to me. "Oh, him. He must be a nice man." I could feel the lie in his voice. I knew this wouldn't get us anywhere. So I changed the subject. "So dad. What are we going to do this weekend?" "I forgot that you were coming, so I don't know." I got really angry. I come only once a year and he forgot that I was coming!? "Listen, I am really sorry. To make it up for you, we are going to stay in a five star hotel. What about the "Four Seasons"?" How did my dad have the money for a five star hotel? I don't know. But I didn't say no to that. So that night we checked in to the "Four Seasons". I forgot all my anger about my dad. He must really care about me if he takes me to a five star hotel. The next day I spent most of the time at the pool. They had a big pool there in a shape of a F and S. It was kind of cool. For some reason, my dad was nearly never at the pool. He just came down a few times to check on me. At lunch my dad and I sat down for the first time since I came here. "Dad, what are you doing all the time!?" I asked my dad firmly. "I, I, I work for the community service," my dad lied. "So you can't take of work to see your son who you see only once a year?" I asked. "Sorry, but no. I need to do a big project that can't be delayed," he said sadly. That is when I spotted the man with the gun. He was smiling his evil smile at me. I started to sweat. The man with the gun was following me. I reached towards my knife, but it wasn't there. I left it in my room. I was really nervous. "Son, I am going to the men's room." My dad said, and got up. And again, I was left alone. After a minute, the man with the gun got up. I was relived. The man with the gun was gone. I had time to think. What does the man want from me? What did I do to him? Why is he trying so hard? * * * The next day my dad and I went out for lunch at MacDonald's. My dad had a XL burger but I wasn't very hungry, so I had only some fries. I didn't spot the man with the gun anywhere, so I was calm. I tried asking my dad again about the man with the gun, but he insisted the he had no clue what I was talking about. He lied. That is when I remembered what happened three nights ago. The man with the gun had something to do with my parents divorce, and I was going to find out what it was. "Dad, why did the divorce happen?" I asked my dad quietly. "What?" asked my dad although he heard me quite well. "You know exactly what I said!" I said in an angry voice. My dad keeps on lying to me! "Oh, your mother and I thought a bit differently about some things, that’s all." "That is not all, dad! You are hiding something from me, and I know it! Before the divorce I heard you and mom talking!" Dad gasped, which is not like him. He waited a second, and then asked quietly: "How much did you hear?" I didn't answer his question. I got up from my seat. "Why is it so dangerous for me to live here!? What uncle were you speaking about!? Uncle Jack is dead, and I have no other uncle!" I was really so angry, that I shouted all this. People started to look at my dad and me. It was quite embarrassing, but I didn't care. I was focused on my dad. "This is not the right time to speak about this. I think it is time we should leave," my dad said nervously. "No! We are not leaving until you tell me what this is all about!" I saw a girl about my age calling someone. I don't know why, but she captured my attention. "Ben! I promise I will tell you everything when we get back to the hotel!" he said in a terrified voice. I didn't blame him in a situation like this. But I didn't give up. "I will not leave until you tell me what this is all about!" my hand pulled out my knife. I wasn’t going to hurt my dad. But just to warn him. And seriously, I had no clue where that came from. The crowd gave big gasp. The mothers pulled their children away. People phoned the police and someone called the mental hospital. My dad got up. "Ben, put that down before you hurt someone!" I know, I know, I over reacted. I have major anger issues. But like this I have never acted, until now… "No! Not until-" I didn't finish when someone burst through the door. It wasn't the man with the gun, although he had one, he was much different. He had long, black hair, which reached his neck. His face was long, not fat, but not thin. He had a scar above his eye. He had an evil smile, not like the man who was following me, but it was a lot less scary. He was wearing a green, torn vest, with oil stains on it. On his hands were black fingerless gloves, and long khaki pants. His shoes were black too, so they matched his gloves. No one said anything, they were too scared. I didn't blame them, I was scared too. He looked around at everyone with his dark green eyes. I saw a woman pull out a cell phone, but the man gave her a scary look and she put it away. No one moved a muscle, not even a blink. It felt just like a cowboy movie. And then he spotted my dad and me, and his grin grew. I sat down very slowly and put back my knife. The man walked towards my dad. He pointed his gun at my dad, and in a low voice asked "What is the location?" "Dad?" I asked and looked at him. Does my dad know him? What does he mean by "the location"? "What will happen if I don't tell you?" I could nearly hear a giggle in my dad's voice. The man looked around and then he spotted me. His smile grew bigger and pointed the gun at me. A gasp came from the crowd. "Tell me the location or I will shoot your son." He said. You could tell that he was proud that he came up with the idea. I was too shocked to pull out my knife. It is all happening just too fast! Everything was just one big mess in my head that no one would clean up for me. "You won't dare" my dad said, but he knew the man would. "You know I would. Choose. The kid or the location." I saw a few policemen coming towards the doors. But the man just pressed a button on his gun, and the doors closed shut. The man understood that he had only a few seconds, so he pulled a hand grenade out from his pocket and threw it on the floor. In a second the whole place was full of smoke, and I couldn't see anything. As quick as I could I got up from the chair and ran to the doors. "Ben, run! Don't worry about me!" I heard my dad shout. I ran as fast as I could. 'What is going on?' I asked my self. In the background a shot was heard, and right after that my dad let out a scream. "Dad!" I shouted. And then I closed my mouth. I didn't want the man to hear me. But it was too late, the man headed toward me. The cops succeeded in opening the doors at last, and I ran straight out of them. A shot came from the restaurant, and another shout came from it. This time from the man who shot my dad. But I didn't care, all I could think of was my dad. * * * The smoke cloud was gone and the ambulance came. My dad went to the hospital. And a man from the mental hospital came to take me away. For some reason, I didn't argue with them. I think it was because all I was thinking of was my dad. I was still shocked about all that had just happened. 'What were you thinking!?' I asked my self 'pulling a knife out on your own dad?' I knew I would never forgive myself. At the same time I forgot that I wasn't the one who killed my dad, but is was the one who went to jail. 'You deserve to go to mental hospital after what that just happened.' I said to myself. 'No. you need to go to jail for a million years!' I was sitting in the back of a police car, on the way to the mental hospital. A tall cop with black hair was driving it, and next to him someone from the mental hospital. He was trying to speak to me, but I ignored him. I didn't care what he was saying. Why would I, anyway? And then I remembered my mother. Does she know what that happened? 'She must know.' I thought. 'The police must have told here. Right?' 'Who should I ask? The police? Maybe, But I don't won't to talk to them. The Mental Hospital? They think I am crazy!' 'Dude, you are making a giant fuss about who to ask a question! Just ask it and you are done!' a voice inside of me said. 'I, I know. I am sorry. I will stop it.' another voice in side of me said. 'Well you should be. You are a man! You don't think of what you are going to do, you do it and you are finished!' And then from nowhere, I started crying. I cried about my dad, about the Mental Hospital, about my mother, about everything. Now I will tell you a little something about myself. I never cry. I think that the last time I cried was when I was six, and that was when I cut my head. Whenever I want to cry, I keep it strong, and the second I get home, I go to my room, lock the door, and punch a pillow until I calm down. I have this technique ever since I remember myself. But now I didn't have a pillow to punch, and I was too upset to wait, so I cried. The man from the Mental Hospital turned and handed me a bottle with liquid that looked like water. "Drink it. I think it might help," he said. I looked at the bottle and then at him. It was the first time I actually looked at him. He had short, brown hair that glittered in the setting sun. A name tag with the name Jason written on it was hanging from his white buttoned-down shirt. He looked very nice, and I wished he would be with me at the mental hospital. "Thank you." I replied with a sniff and took the bottle. "You are very welcome." He said and turned back. I looked at the bottle. It was obvious that it wasn’t water. Carefully I opened the bottle and sniffed it. No bad smell. Good. Slowly, I took a small sip from the bottle. It tasted like water. Suddenly I felt dizzy, as if the world is turning around. My eyelids started to feel heavy, and my body felt calm, and easily, I fell asleep. |
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