⇢ 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴

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• • 2004 • •





THE FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD was in his backyard shuffling and sliding his feet. Tony, being the star football player he was, always trained and practiced in his free time.

Thanks to his athletic prowess and photographic memory that he had known he had for the last several years, it made everything easier...especially sports. He was very grateful for his strong genetics.

After a while, the teenager went back inside the house. His mother, Julie, was cleaning the kitchen and greeted him.

"Bonjour, honey."

"Bonjour, mom."

He chuckled. His mother was always adamant about teaching her kids the French language. Of course, for him it was easy thanks to his memory.

"Your dad called. He landed safely."

Tony nodded. His father, Stanley, had been called to a work trip and was meeting with his old war buddy, General Thaddeus Ross, in West Virginia.

"Hope he doesn't take too long over there. My game's on Tuesday."

"He said he'd be back before then. Don't worry."

The teenager sat down and started eating from the plate of fruit his mother had placed there earlier. After he was done, he went to put the dish away.

As Julie was washing some plates, a bee that had somehow gone into the house flew around her face. She flinched back and tried to wave it away but it started flying fast and erratically.

Suddenly, Tony grabbed it mid-air. He held it carefully to not hurt the bee or get himself stung, pinching it around the thorax.

Julie looked at him and the teenager let out an elated sigh. He was always in awe at his reflexes.

"Whoa! I don't think I've done that before

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"Whoa! I don't think I've done that before." He said. "I saw a movie last night where some guy did this to a fly."

All Julie could do was hum. She knew of his abilities as did Stanley and their other son...but she was the only one who knew exactly how he got them.

"Well, no use in keeping it trapped." Julie reached out and opened the window. "Let it go."

Tony nodded and allowed the bee to fly out. Both mother and son shared a smile and she closed the window.

The front door opened and in came the thirteen-year-old Stanley Jr, or as the people often called him, Lee. The boy walked into the kitchen toward the fridge but was hiding his face.

"Bonjour, baby." Julie greeted but got no response. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Mom," Lee replied and opened the freezer, looking for an ice pack.

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