Chapter X The Awakening Part 1
One warm quiet night in August 1971 in Shreveport, Louisianan, as Joshua Jaedrel and his family sat down to supper. Joshua’s father, Samuel, whom his wife often called old porcupine, for his popularity amongst his peers, had a voice as smooth as sandpaper, the everyday sunbathed sweet odor of a skunk in heat, and the temperament of a hyena chasing squirrels.
Samuel, after all was an over the road truck driver, who spent more time curled up in his cab, than in bed with his wife. To him a bath was always considered optional and despite his heroic efforts, he had never failed to fail in the classes at Shreveport Middle School, where he finished dead last in his class, which was the zenith of his education. Six months before, he had been laid off, and was currently monopolizing his families black and white Model 1240 RCA television, while fart painting and languishing around the house, and slowly driving his wife nuts, before she finally screamed in his ear,
“Get a job, you moron or tomorrow will be your last! Now get these kids seated, so we can eat.”
Joshua’s father sat glued to the couch day after day, counting clock ticks, searching the family dog for fleas, downhearted and depressed, as he sat there immobilized, beer in hand, without so much as opening the paper, to look for work. In short he was an occupational over achiever.
Then, gradually many of the local townspeople began to gossip about Samuel’s lack of effort in seeking another job, also considered his son Joshua, who had a slight stutter, just another moron like his father and failed to consider that according to all the tests, the boy though a bit of an odd bird, had a one hundred and eighty IQ, Genius level and who unlike many of his peers, who had better things to do, the boy had his nose pressed into one book or another, even if he did seem a bit weird to those hanging out at the Birdbrain Pool Hall or the local Five and Dime.
I am sure, the boy’s appearance, with his white cotton dress shirts, bow ties, plastic pen protectors, while socks and jet black dress shoes, with the laces always neatly untied, did a lot to contribute to the misconception that the boy like his father was headed for a life as a social outcast. His black little professor glasses and well greased hair did not add to his popularity amongst the locals, nor did the fact that he was always blowing himself up with his hobby toy chemistry set. In short, most assumed that he was cut from the same cloth as his outcast father.
Kids his age with his sophisticated fashion sense and appearance were still a rarity in this rather conservative part of the country. In this part of town, most everyone liked his parents, who drank like guppies and chatted and danced down at the Rusty Wheel Tavern most Saturdays, spent most Sunday’s at the Six Street Southern Baptist Church, so most of the locals tended to ignore Joshua’s odd appearance and behavior. Still, the boy seemed harmless enough and as the saying goes, live and let live, you know.
Who knew at the time, a nerd like Josh, who stutter and all was awkward with girls, never having been kissed, and who could not yet drive a car, and who couldn’t seem to get two words out for a pretty girl, would quite by accident nearly start an interstellar war and possibly the total destruction of Earth.
— LOOK FOR MY THIRD SCIENCE FICTION / DYSTOPIAN NOVEL, FEAR APPEARING SOON ON AMAZON KINDLE BOOKS.