Memories of the Past

A Starman Story

By: Yvette Jessen

Divorce. It was such an ugly word, but it was the reality for Sharon Peters. The 14-year-old girl made her way outside of the movie cinema. She had gone there to see a movie with two of her best friends, but afterwards, she just wanted to be alone. After a teary good-bye with her friends, she made her way in the direction of the coastal area where she lived. The seaside always offered her the solitude she needed, and so her primary interest at this moment was to reach the beach, sit down in the sand, and get a grip on her emotions.

It had been decided in court earlier that week that she would have to move in with her mother in Franklin, California as of the following day. After having spent her entire life here on the coastal city of San Diego, she was now being told that she would be leaving her home to move to a town located about 50 miles inland.

Sharon thought she would die when her father told her that she would only be able to visit him during school vacations and that she would lose her beloved beach. This was too much for her, she adored the coastline, and from her father's beach side home, she could see it from her bedroom window. Somehow, she felt a sense of freedom whenever she was there.

One of her favorite things to do was to walk along the coast at night, when the light of the moon could be seen reflecting off the still water. This evening, it was clear, and the moon was full. After she had walked about a mile from the movie theater, she reached the seaside and removed the silver sandals she wore on her feet. Walking didn't bother her, she was into sports, and had become a fairly good beach volleyball player as she was growing up. Recently, unknown to either of her parents, she got interested in surfing and was learning how from one of the college boys she knew.

As she walked, she could feel the soft cool sand beneath her feet, and she sighed deeply. It wasn't fair, she thought to herself, as her mind drifted back to two days before when her father had told her that she would have to leave. How could her parents do this to her? She was angry with her mother, why couldn't she just let her stay there with her father, where she was happy? Why did she have to pursue this with a custody battle? Couldn't she see that Sharon loved being where she was?

Contrary to the resentment she harbored, she really did love her mother. It tore her in pieces when she thought about how she would have to get used to making new friends, and attending a new school. All the friends she had, she had met when she was a child. Being somewhat shy, she feared what she would have to endure in this strange new place.

Leaving the one place where she felt at home was the most horrible feeling she could imagine. She knew that school would be one of the harder adjustments she would have to cope with, but the most difficult had to be the inability to walk to the coastline when she needed the feeling of total freedom.

She plopped down on the sand, her summer dress blowing in the breeze and her tears falling freely. After a few minutes passed, she looked down at her watch. She had told her father that she would be home by 10. Since she was little, her father had lived in a beachfront home, and so her nightly walks on the beach were acceptable because she had always promised not to go too far.

It was now 9, and so she had an hour to reflect on the feelings she had about leaving behind this place she had grown to love. She looked out at the water and could see the stars reflecting on the still ocean. To her it was the most beautiful sight she could imagine, but the sadness she felt, seemed to override everything else.

She glanced up when she saw a man approaching where she was sitting. Obviously he didn't see her, because he said no words as he passed by and continued slowly walking up the coast. He stopped when he was about three feet away from where she was sitting. She stood up quietly and started putting her sandals back on her feet as she watched him curiously. She knew just about everyone in the area, but this man was a stranger. She watched as he dug in his pocket and pulled something out.

The full moon was casting eerie shadows about, but her eyes widened as she watched him concentrate on the small round object in his hand. Seconds passed, and he was bathed in the blue light, which appeared to be emitting from the object. Her eyes widened in surprise upon seeing the light, and she backed away, frightened. She had never seen this kind of magic in her life, and she wasn't sure how this man would react if he caught her staring at him.

The man turned around suddenly, faced her, and she gasped in astonishment. The object was still glowing in his hand, and Sharon could see his face illuminated by the light. He was handsome, appeared to be about the same age as her father, had dark hair, and blue eyes.

"Oh my God," Sharon's hand went to her mouth when she saw the object still glowing in his hand. She was about to turn around and run away from him when his soft voice could be heard above the gentle hum of the object.

"Don't be afraid," he offered. "I mean you no harm." His eyes met her own, and the light disappeared.

Her eyes fell on the object, which appeared to be about the size of a marble and as the light vanished, she saw that it was larger than a marble, probably a pinball, like at the machines they had at the local cinema.

The man returned it to his pocket, and he looked up, his eyes seeking hers.

Sharon backed up away from him, hoping to put as much distance between them as she could. In her haste to get away, she rammed her ankle against a large rock, stumbled over it and fell backwards onto the sand.

She didn't realize that she had been seriously injured until she tried to stand up. When she put her weight on her left foot, a bolt of pain shot up her leg, and tears of agony stung her eyes as she plopped back down on the sand. She knew that her ankle was either sprained or broken from the impact with the rock. She looked up and could see the man coming towards her.

After a few seconds passed, he reached her side, and placed his hand on her shoulder. His voice could be heard above her hammering heart. "Are you OK?"

Sharon forgot her initial fear of him once her eyes met his. Looking at him, she saw sympathy and compassion, but there was something else in his eyes. She could see that he seemed to carry a look of sadness and isolation. It reminded her of how she felt and she eventually had to look away.

The tears continued to stream down her cheeks as she felt the pain in her ankle intensifying. Her earlier thoughts forgotten as she gripped the wounded area, hoping to ease the pain. She wiped her free hand over her face and looked up at him as though she was an animal trapped in a corner. "I need a doctor, my foot. I think it's broken. Please help me." Her words came out rushed as though speaking caused difficulties.

After a few seconds, she began to feel her energy giving out, and his face became a blur as she began to feel dizzy from the pain. She could feel the cool breeze as the stranger sat down in the sand next to her and she finally collapsed, her head resting against his chest. He wrapped one arm around her shoulder in an effort to hold her up as well as to calm her.

With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and removed the mysterious object she had seen him holding before. Once he held it in his hand, he whispered softly to her, "Don't be afraid, I want to help you. I won't hurt you." She was still leaning against him, and he gently laid her back on the sand. His hand moved away from her shoulder and it came to rest on her injured ankle. She flinched in pain when his hand touched her foot. "It's broken," he confirmed after a few seconds.

"What are you going to do?" Sharon cried hysterically as the pain overwhelmed her and she clamped her eyes shut.

"Shhh," he spoke softly, the round object still in his hand. She immediately fell silent as he began to concentrate on the object, this time the band of blue light centered on her ankle. She slowly opened her eyes as the light began to fade. She could feel the pain leaving the area around where she had been injured and she looked at him in wonder as the light disappeared. He returned the object to his pocket, and remained on his knees next to where she was lying. "You're OK now," he said softly.

She nodded, unable to utter a sound. After a few seconds, she sat up. It must have been too quickly, because she immediately felt a little dizzy, her hand came to rest on her forehead, and she closed her eyes.

"Do you feel OK?" He asked, concern in his voice. "Are you going to be able to make it home without any problems?"

"I think so, I don't live too far away," she answered, making an attempt to stand. However, she was still weak from the injury, and she eventually fell back onto the sand. "Maybe I should sit here a little longer." She whispered more to herself than to him. She scooped up a handful of sand and allowed it to trickle through her fingers.

He nodded, "Yes, you should take it easy, your body's weak right now from the injury."

She nodded slowly as the sand finished falling between her fingers. She had so many questions she wanted to ask this kind man sitting next to her, but she didn't know where to begin. Finally she could only squeak out three words, "Who are you?"

"A friend," was all he said as he placed his hand under her elbow and helped her to stand up.

She nodded once she was on her feet and after she was standing without any of his assistance, she ran away as fast as she could. The answer to her question wasn't what she had expected, and all she could think about was what she had seen him do. She glanced back to make sure he wasn't still following her, and she shook her head rapidly, disbelief was written all over her face.

o O o

Paul Forrester was left standing alone and watched as the young girl ran away from him. He knew that she had been frightened by what she had seen him do, and he really had no idea that she had been sitting behind him all this time. Since his return to Earth, he periodically felt homesick. This was very difficult for him to cope with, especially when he thought about all the troubles he and his son, Scott, faced. The easiest would be if he had stayed home, but he knew that his responsibility was to his teenage son.

On this night, he had simply used the sphere to connect to his home. He did this periodically, but a stranger had never before seen him do this, and he felt somewhat silly now. He feared that this girl would tell someone about what she had seen.

Paul sighed deeply, when he had touched the girl's shoulders, he could feel her emotions, and he knew that she was also terribly unhappy about something, but he didn't know what it was that made her feel this way. He wished that she had told him, but he was as much a stranger to her as she was to him, and so talking about one's problems usually wasn't done with strangers. He felt awful about the entire incident, but he knew deep down inside that he couldn't have possibly left her to suffer if it was within his power to help her.

He walked back down the beach, and when he reached the parking lot, he retrieved his car. It was now very late, but he knew that he and Scott would have to leave. He had received a note earlier that evening that Scott was out with some of the guys from his school and would probably be home a littler later. It was Friday night and Paul was experienced enough to knew that teenagers liked to stay out late on such nights.

Let him enjoy the time out with his friends, because Paul knew that once Scott came home, the two of them would be leaving yet another place they had both grown fond of. He was hopeful that he would have everything packed and ready when Scott arrived.

His mind drifted back to the girl. He could sense that she was frightened of him, but he also sensed a number of things about her and he wished that she hadn't have run away. He had a strange feeling that he had a lot more in common with her than just being unhappy.

It didn't seem to matter anyway, he concluded as he started the car and drove away from the beach. Fifteen minutes later, he pulled the car into a parking area around the building where he lived. Once the car was parked, he got out and rushed towards the door, which would lead inside. Inside the apartment, he began to pack their belongings as quickly as he could. Ten minutes later, Scott's key was heard jingling in the lock, and the door opened. He came inside, his usual cheerful look fading away when his gaze fell on his father's activities in their living room.

"What's up?" He asked noticing his father packing. "Did you see Fox in town or something?" Scott was always nervous when he saw his father packing their belongings. He knew that it either meant impending danger or trouble, and his face paled. Their lives on the run demonstrated that they often had to leave where they were living quickly, or face living their lives as prisoners of the government. Scott sat down on the arm of the sofa and looked at his father.

Hearing Fox's name made Paul shutter. "No," he finally answered, guilt shadowing his features when he looked at the sad expression on his son's face. "We have to leave immediately, though. Something's happened."

"What?" Scott asked. "You look kinda nervous about something."

"I had to use the sphere this evening at the beach. I had connected with my home and didn't see this young girl sitting behind me until she had seen me. She was sitting on the sand not far from where I was and when I turned around and saw her, she became frightened and tried to run away. But, as she attempted to get away from me, she tripped over a large rock and broke her ankle. I had to help her." Paul explained to his son weakly.

"But, I thought you could feel it when someone was there?" Scott asked.

Paul nodded, "normally I can, but tonight, I was apparently preoccupied."

"So, in other words, you exposed yourself to a stranger?" When Paul nodded, Scott could see the sadness in his father's eyes. He didn't understand it, but Instead of getting angry, his voice softened, "you're homesick again, aren't you? That's why you used the sphere in the first place?" Scott asked resting his hand on his father's shoulder. He felt really guilty about his father's bouts with homesickness, and the worst thing was that he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

Paul nodded, "yes, I think that is how I'm feeling. I don't want you to think that I'd rather be up there than down here with you, though. I just miss it a lot more than I thought I would."

"Maybe you're also depressed because Mom's not here with us," Scott smiled reassuringly at his father. "When we find her, then you'll feel much better."

Paul smiled weakly.

"Besides," Scott continued, "that's perfectly understandable that you feel a little homesick, Dad. I mean sometimes I miss Seattle, and my friends there. Being with you is really cool, but I still miss my old life too. It's normal." Scott grinned sheepishly, but his smile disappeared when he saw his father's sad expression. "I don't think I would trade you for anything in the world, but I wish I could make you happy here."

"You do make me happy, Scott. I just wonder if me being here is the best thing for you," Paul offered. "I know it's not easy for you having to constantly change homes and schools."

"Dad, would you please stop worrying about it? You always say we are a team and that who we are. Maybe one day Fox and the FSA will accept us."

"I know that you weren't always happy though," Paul objected.

"OK, you're right, before we went to Spirit Lake to find Mom, I did blame you. But, I don't anymore." Scott said softly. Seconds passed and his serious look melted into a lopsided grin, "you know what? Sometimes I feel like we're changing our roles, when we have these kinds of conversations."

Paul nodded, "I'm sorry."

Scott hugged his father reassuringly. He could feel the sadness coming from his usually strong father, and this bothered him. He wasn't used to being able to sense emotions like Paul could, but the more time he spent with his father, the more he was able to do some of the things Paul could do. He smiled weakly when their hug ended. "Maybe I should stay home more often and spend time with you instead of taking off with the guys from school."

Paul sighed deeply, grabbed his duffel bag, and reached for the camera bag, which was in the corner of the room. He was still preoccupied with thoughts of the girl he had helped at the beach. There was something unusual about her, she looked sad about something, but he didn't know why. If she hadn't run away, he would have tried to talk to her.

When he finally looked over at his son, and got an encouraging grin from him, he followed him outside. Paul dropped the key in the landlord's mailbox, as well as their rent for the three weeks they had lived there.

That done; they loaded their bags in the trunk of the car. Once their stuff was locked in the trunk, they got in the car, and Paul drove out of the parking area towards the interstate highway, which would lead them out of the city.

After a few miles passed, Scott opened the map and began to study it with the light from the moon shining in the front seat. "Where are we going?" He finally asked.

Paul sighed, "I don't know, just pick a place."

Scott looked at him wondering if he had said something wrong because Paul's voice seemed to be lacking it's usual energy. Finally, he pointed down to a spot on the map. "How about here? It's a town called Franklin. It looks big enough that you could get a decent job and small enough where we don't have to worry about everything that happened here." Scott suggested. "It's also far enough away that we don't have to worry about this girl saying anything about what happened at the beach."

Paul nodded, "OK, but I guess since it's so late, we should probably find a rest area and get some sleep. We probably won't be able to find any place to stay tonight anyway."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Scott answered and yawned.

Paul pulled the car into the next rest area and he parked it as Scott stretched out and made himself comfortable. After some minutes, Scott fell asleep, but Paul was still lost in thought. His gaze was on the stars, but after an hour passed, he eventually slept.

o O o

Sharon had made it to her father's beach house five minutes before 10. "Daddy," she called out half expecting to hear an answer, but she knew that her father had gone out as well and wouldn't be back until later.

When she heard no sounds in the house and found it dark, she made her way into the living room. Hesitantly, she turned on the lamp on one of the side tables and sat down on the sofa. She glanced over and saw a note lying on the table. She picked it up and began to read. The note indicated that he would probably not come home for another hour or so.

It was no secret; her father had met another woman, Penny Higgons, and had started dating her as soon as the divorce became final earlier that year. Although she liked Penny, she felt somewhat torn whenever she thought about her parents. She was more like her free-spirited father, and had nothing in common with her mother. Brenda Peters was overbearing, and possessive. Sharon felt slightly intimidated when it came to dealing with her mother.

She sighed deeply, looked up through the window, and could see the stars still spotting the night sky. She turned off the lamp and her focus fell on the sky. Who was that man she had seen on the beach, she kept asking herself, and why was it that she felt an indescribable calm when he had healed her ankle? What was that blue light she had seen? He had said that he was a friend, and that she believed, but there was something about him that she couldn't understand.

None of this made sense to her, and she really didn't want to think about it. On top of everything she had to sort out, this was something she was not really in the mind-set to even try. If I mention what happened to my dad, she thought, he'd tell me I'm making it all up. Steven Peters may be a free spirit, but he was also a realist, and that made it difficult for her to talk to him about this.

Talking to her mother was out of the question. If I tell my mom about it, she thought, then she would probably find me one of her nutty therapist friends to talk to me about my inability to adjust to change. Sharon sighed deeply, her mind suddenly coming to reflect on Penny.

Throughout the entire battle between her parents, she found herself comfortable with talking to Penny about how she felt. She wished it were as easy to talk to her parents, as it was to talk to Penny. The young woman her father dated was more like an older sister for Sharon than a possible future stepmother.

Other than Penny, there was really no one she could talk to about what she had seen, and even if she mentioned it to Penny, she didn't know what the woman would think.

She turned the light on once again, grabbed a magazine off the table, and began to flip through it. In her entire life, she had never felt as confused and alone as she did at that moment. Maybe moving to Franklin wouldn't be so bad, but somehow she had a feeling of impending doom. She knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

Finally, she stretched out on the sofa, turned off the light once again, and closed her eyes. When she opened her eyes again, it was morning, and she could see the sun shining through the window. She glanced over to see her father rushing around the room getting the rest of her belongings together.

"You'd better get up, Sharon, your mother's gonna be here in an hour to pick you up," her father said. "She just called and said she was on her way."

She nodded numbly and pushed the blanket, which covered her, away. Apparently, her father had covered her with it the night before when he had come home. "OK, Daddy." She stood up, and quietly walked into her old room and grabbed something to wear for the trip to her mother's apartment. Most of her favorite clothes were left hanging in the closet because her mother had insisted that she would have no use for them in Franklin. She grabbed her favorite cotton beige dress out of the closet and walked into the bathroom to take a shower.

That done, she got dressed and grabbed the brush off the sink to run it through her sun-streaked blond hair. I hope living in Franklin won't fade my tan, she thought remembering how pale she had looked one summer when she had spent most of July in the hospital. She looked in the mirror and could see the freckles from the sun across the bridge of her nose. She smiled weakly remembering three weeks ago when school had started and she and her friends had started as Freshmen at the high school. It had been so great, and now that she was used to being at the school, she would have to change schools. She was absolutely miserable.

She sighed deeply as she started reflecting on the summer that had passed. She had met a boy at the beach, who was a surfer, and he had been teaching her how to surf. That's why this summer had been the best summer she could remember. But, it was also gave her the best tan she could remember ever having. She remembered having spent the entire vacation at the beach.

"Hey, are you swimming in there?" Sharon sighed deeply when she heard a knock on the door and her father's voice. He probably needed to get in here to shave she thought as she laid the brush on the sink.

"I'm almost done, Daddy." She called out as she grabbed the dress she had worn the night before and stuffed it in the hamper, which was situated next to the toilet.

Finally, she opened the door, came out, and her father went in. She walked out into the living room to see her suitcases packed, and sitting in the middle of the floor. She turned around and cracked a small smile when she saw her father's girlfriend sitting comfortably on the sofa.

"Hi Sharon." The woman smiled warmly.

"Hi, Penny." Sharon said weakly.

"Are you excited about going to Franklin, today?" Penny asked softly.

"Not really." Was all she said. She began to fiddle with a small piece of paper, which she had grabbed up off the coffee table. She liked Penny; the woman was always so nice and easy going. Sharon knew that her father was probably much better off with Penny than with her uptight mother.

She sighed, maybe it had something to do with her mother's job that made her so uptight, but ever since Brenda Peters had become a Psychologist, she had suddenly taken everything that anyone said and tried to analyze it. Sharon hated this, and she knew that her mother would probably insist on treating her like an eight-year-old child, rather than a 14-year-old girl.

Maybe this was why Sharon hadn't mentioned anything about learning to surf to her mother, she probably would have yelled at her dad about his allowing her to do something so dangerous.

"Sharon?" Penny's voice broke into her thoughts. "A penny for your thoughts?"

Sharon laughed weakly, "You always say that to make me laugh, don't you?"

"Well, obviously because it works." Penny said, her green eyes twinkling.

"Penny, can I ask you a question?" Sharon asked.

"Yeah, sure you can," Penny looked at her.

"Do you believe all those stories about UFOs and aliens and stuff?" Sharon asked.

Penny shook her head, "No, sorry, I have to admit I think it's a bunch of hogwash. But where did all that come from? I've never head you mention anything about such things before."

"I know, I just had a weird dream about it last night," Sharon lied. This was the answer she expected from Penny, and she sighed deeply.

"Is there anything you want to talk about, Sharon?" Penny asked as a horn beeped from outside. Her warm smile disappeared when she looked out the window and could see Brenda's BMW parked in the driveway.

"No, but you're probably right, though." Sharon stood up and walked towards the suitcases and picked up the smaller of the two.

Steven came out of the bathroom, "Your mother's here, Sharon."

"Yeah, I know." Sharon's eyes met those of her father. "Daddy, will you help me with my stuff?" She asked trying to keep the sadness out of her voice.

"Of course, Sweetheart." Steven picked up the second suitcase and followed her to the door. Once she opened the door and saw her mother, she swallowed the lump in her throat.

Her mother was, as usual, dressed impeccably. Today, she wore in an off white suit and a string of pearls around her neck. Suddenly, Sharon felt underdressed in her favorite dress while in the presence of her elegant mother. Her hands ran down the cotton dress she wore and she sighed deeply.

Once Steven had greeted his ex-wife, and had put the bags in the trunk of the car, Sharon spoke, "Mom, I have to go to the bathroom before we leave, OK?"

Brenda nodded, and both Steven and Sharon returned inside the house.

After using the bathroom, she rejoined Penny and Steven in the living room. "Daddy, I wish I could stay here," Her eyes brimmed with tears and Steven nodded.

"I know, Sweetheart. I wish you could too." Steven wrapped his arms around his daughter, "But you're going to be OK. Besides that, I promise to write when I can and you'll also be here for Thanksgiving, that's only two months away."

"I know." She turned to Penny, "You'll write too?"

Penny nodded and hugged her boyfriend's daughter. "I'll send you something with your dad's letters every chance I get." She handed Sharon a cloth handkerchief and smiled reassuringly.

Sharon wiped her eyes with the cloth. But, as she did, a silver necklace fell to the ground. It had been carefully folded inside the cloth, and she bent down to pick it up. It was the silver starfish necklace that Penny bought when she and Steven were in Mexico. "I remember how much you liked it," Penny offered, smiling.

"Thank you," Sharon put the necklace on and wiped her eyes as her mother began to honk the horn impatiently. "I have to go. I love you both."

Steven nodded as his only child walked to the front door, opened it, and stepped outside closing it behind her. Watching her leave, Steven felt the tears stinging under his eyes. Penny wrapped her arms around him comfortingly.

"What took you so long?" Brenda wanted to know once Sharon came outside and got in the car.

"I just wanted to say good-bye, that's all." Sharon whispered; her hand was holding onto the necklace that Penny had given to her.

When she saw her mother frowning, she buckled the seat belt and tried to ignore it. Once Brenda's attention diverted back onto the road, she sighed deeply as the tears escaped from under her eyes. She grabbed the handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and wiped it over her eyes. The necklace she wore, reminded her not only of her father and Penny, but also of the mysterious man she had met the night before at the beach.

o O o

George Fox was sitting in his office in Washington. It was Saturday morning and it had been over a month and there were no leads as to the location of the alien or the boy. Seconds passed, and Wylie, his assistant, entered the office. "Morning, Sir," he said as he sat a cup of coffee on the desk.

Fox picked up the cup and took a long sip. Both men had spent most weekends working, and so it was perfectly normal for them to be at the office on such a day.

"Sir, a fax just came in from the police department in San Diego. Apparently, someone had seen blue lights last night on the beach around the cove." Wylie handed his boss a piece of paper.

Fox sat his cup of coffee on the desk and took the piece of paper that Wylie had given him. "Did someone enter any names into the computer?"

"Apparently, the witness contacted the San Diego police department, and they only entered something about 'blue Lights'." Wylie said. "They sent this out last night after they hit the red flag."

"Did they happen to send a name of a contact person?" Fox asked.

"No, Sir. But, the police have the name of the witness in San Diego and will give it to us when we get out there. According to police, the witness claims that he saw a girl who appeared to be about 13 years old talking to a middle-aged man last night. Then suddenly they saw the lights, the girl got spooked, and ran away. I booked us on a flight to San Diego for this afternoon. The police sent us a phone number of the precinct, as well." Wylie pulled a reservation number from the folder he carried.

"Did they give you the girl's name, by any chance?" Fox asked.

"No, but they said that the witness knew the girl. Apparently, his son was giving her surfing lessons during the summer, and he went away to college three weeks ago." Wylie said. "They didn't know her name, but they said her parents live in a beach house on the coastline and it wouldn't be hard to find."

"This is probably our only lead. I guess we'd better get packing and get to the airport." George Fox said as his assistant left the office. "I'll meet you here in an hour, Wylie." He called out as he turned to face the map, which was hanging on the wall, "Well, Forrester, it looks like we'll meet again soon." He picked up the cup of coffee and took another sip.

o O o

Saturday morning brought Paul and Scott into the small town of Franklin, and they were able to find an apartment without too much difficulty. They normally looked for the furnished apartments first, and then checked at an inexpensive motel. They were both happy when the landlord gave them the key and told them they could immediately move in. The rules were the same in just about every place they went, no parties, no pets, and rent was due the first of the month. Paul signed everything, and they went to do some grocery shopping.

By the time they returned to their apartment, Paul was getting back to his old self, and the two of them decided that they would go to the planetarium that afternoon to see an exhibition. Scott had found an advertisement for it at the store, and looked pretty excited about it. He figured that going there would probably make his father feel better and Paul had opted to check first thing Monday morning to see if there were any jobs available for photographers. Normally, he tried to find something upon arriving in a new town, but for some reason, he didn't feel like it that particular day, and Scott decided not to press the issue with him.

Back at home; they worked together to put the food away. Once that was done, Paul pulled some food out to prepare for lunch while Scott unpacked their belongings. That done, he rejoined his father in the kitchen.

After a few minutes, the food was ready, and they ate in silence, except to discuss when they would leave for the exhibition. Paul wanted to make sure they got there early enough so they would be able to get tickets for the afternoon exhibition. This meant that the clean up would have to wait until they returned.

Twenty minutes after they had eaten lunch, they drove to the planetarium and Paul went to get the tickets while Scott waited near the bulletin board. After waiting and watching the people around him for a few minutes, he turned around, and saw a girl in a beige sun-dress standing outside reading the schedule with the exhibitions posted. He walked towards the door, which would lead outside, opened it, and walked across the patio until he reached her. "Hi," he offered approaching her.

"Hi," came her soft answer.

"Are you here to see the exhibition too?" Scott asked.

"No, I'm waiting for my mother to come back. She went to that convenience store to pick up a pack of gum." The girl said softly, her sad eyes saying more than her words could.

"Do you go to school here?" Scott asked.

"Actually, I start on Monday," she answered, getting her first look at the boy who was standing next to her.

"Me too." He said, and paused before introducing himself, "I'm Scott Hayden."

"Sharon Peters." She paused, "you're new here too?"

"Yeah, my dad and I move around a lot," Scott said. "We just came here from San Diego this morning."

"Me too, actually, I lived there for the last 14 years," Sharon said sadly. "My mom was born here, and since my parents recently got divorced, I had to come here to live."

"You must have really liked it there, because you look kinda sad now." He offered.

She nodded, "yeah, I loved it. I used to spend a lot of time at the beach. My dad and his girlfriend have a house up the coast, and I was always at the seaside."

Scott smiled as he noticed her tanned arms. "You must have been there everyday. You make me look like a sheet." He held up his arm and pulled the sleeve of his jacket up so she could see his arm.

She laughed, but suddenly stopped. Scott looked up when her laughter died and saw an elegantly dressed woman coming out of the store.

Sharon sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, I have to go, my mom's waiting. Maybe I'll see you in school, you'll be going to Franklin High School, right?"

Scott nodded, "Yeah."

"OK, maybe I'll see you there then, bye." Sharon walked quickly towards a blue BMW and climbed in the front seat.

Scott was still standing there as he watched her walking away. She looked positively miserable, he thought to himself. When he turned around, he saw his father waiting where he had been standing, and he went back inside.

"Where were you?" Paul asked.

"I saw this girl outside, and went to talk to her. I wanted to find out about what the school's like, but she didn't know anything." Scott answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Why's that?" Paul asked confusion in his eyes, "Doesn't she go to school?"

"She's new here too, in fact, she also arrived here today." Scott answered, but changed the subject when he saw about 20 people walking down a long hallway, which connected the lobby area to the large exhibition room. "Did you get the tickets?"

"Yes, and we'd better get inside, the show starts in five minutes." Paul said showing his son the tickets.

"Great, let's go. What's the title of the exhibition anyway? I remember seeing the listing at the grocery store, but it was kinda hard to read." Scott said.

Paul looked down at the tickets in his hand. "It's called 'The Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence'."

Scott burst out laughing and continued until tears started streaming down his cheeks. He looked over his father's shoulder to see if that was the real title or if his father was making an attempt at being funny. Sure enough that was what the title said.

Paul looked at his son innocently, arched his eyebrows and smiled. Scott started laughing again, as they made their way down the long hallway and into the exhibition room.

o O o

Outside in the car, Sharon met her mother.

"Where did you go?" Brenda asked.

"I just went to see what they had showing at the planetarium." Sharon shrugged her shoulders. Her meeting Scott wasn't mentioned as her mother started the car.

"I didn't know you were interested in Astronomy," she said as she drove the car out of the area. After Sharon offered no answer, she continued speaking, "I hope you will like it here. I grew up in Franklin, and missed it dreadfully after your father and I got married."

Sharon shrugged her shoulders, she felt like she was being torn in two. Here was her mother who loved Franklin's mountains, and warm, dry climate. Then there was her father and Penny who loved the seaside almost as much as she did. She wondered if her mother was somehow ignoring her love of the ocean.

Sharon knew that she would never be able to tell her mother how much she really hated this town. It'd break her heart if she knew that I really wasn't happy here, she thought sadly as a tear slid down her cheek. I could never be so selfish, she thought to herself.

After a few minutes passed, her mother finally broke the silence. "You're being awfully quiet today. Is there something you want to talk about?"

"No, not really." Sharon offered. Why had her life suddenly become so complicating? Her mind began to drift. If she was at home, then she could have gone to the beach and met Jerry and did some surfing. Suddenly she felt like a fish out of water.

As her mother pulled into the parking area for her apartment, Sharon got out of the car and followed Brenda inside. Upstairs in the apartment, Sharon followed her mother through the door. She sighed deeply when she walked inside and saw that everything in the living room was white. She had to will herself to not turn around and walk back out. The carpet was white, as well as the other furniture surrounding the black leather sofa. On the front wall hung three art prints depicting abstracts. On the corner table was red, black, and white figures. Modern abstract art; that was her mother's taste.

She wrinkled her nose; she didn't feel at home at all. The apartment had no seashells, or natural decorations. The floors were covered with this fluffy carpet and she was left feeling afraid of walking across the floor with her shoes on. She missed the warm comfortable atmosphere of her father's beach house. The wooden floors had taken tons of her abuse, whether or not she came home caked with sand, or if she walked through the house slopping water everywhere from her swim in the ocean.

The entire apartment was ultra modern, and everywhere she looked; the only colors she saw were white, black and small amounts of red. It looked like it was taken out of a magazine picture, all pristine and perfect, modern, and in Sharon's opinion, absolutely hideous. Would she ever get used to living here?

Finally when she couldn't take much more of this awful room, she looked up at her mother, trying to keep a cheerful face, "Mom, I need to put this stuff away, where's my room?"

"Down the hall, the last door on the right side," Brenda said completely unaware of her daughter's discomfort.

Sharon walked down the hall and when she entered the room, she sighed deeply. Apparently, her mother had the same designer in her room that she had for the rest of the apartment. Everything was pink, or white, and the bedspread was pink and covered with lace. The curtains, which hung in the window, were all frilly and little girlish. It looks like a wedding cake exploded in here, she thought with a frown.

She went over to the curtains and drew them aside. She could see outside into a park where people were walking and having picnics. The view she liked, but the room was awful. The wooden furniture was all painted white, and the carpet was fuzzy and white like what was in the living room.

This apartment looks like a waiting room for a doctor's office, Sharon thought sighing deeply as her mother entered the room. "Do you like it? I remember pink was always your favorite color."

Sharon sighed deeply, pink was her favorite color, but that was 7 years ago. Now she preferred beige, earth tones, and blue. She despised this room, it wasn't her, and it made her feel really uncomfortable. "It's OK, Mom," she lied when she saw her mother's hopeful face. "Can I get some posters and decorate it like I want to?"

"Yes, I thought we could do that today. The art museum sells prints that we could buy to hang in here. There's a store not far from here that sells abstract art, and we could go by there as well."

"Mom, I don't really like abstract art. Couldn't I have something like a beach scene or something that better expresses me?" Sharon said softly, hoping that her honesty wouldn't upset her mother.

"You're not happy, are you?" Brenda asked.

"I just got here today, give me a little more time, OK?" Sharon answered diplomatically.

"OK," Brenda looked disappointed, but then after a few seconds passed, her frown broke into a broad smile. "I have an idea then, why don't we go to the mall later and see what we can find at the poster shop? They have a new store there that sells nothing but posters and decorations for walls. I'm sure we can find something there to your liking."

"That'd be great." Sharon's frown broke into a small smile. "I've been kinda curious about what this town has to offer as far as shopping and entertainment goes. I'd also like to go by the school and see what it looks like before I start there on Monday."

"OK, then afterwards, we can go out and have something for dinner." Brenda said.

Sharon nodded as her mother left her to unpack. She turned off the air conditioner in her room, opened the window, and closed the door. The breeze blew through the room leaving it fresh and more comfortable. She sat down at the desk and pulled out her diary. It had been a number of days since she had the chance to write her thoughts and feelings in the book, and she decided that since she couldn't stop thinking about the man she had seen last night on the beach in San Diego, that she would write about him and what she remembered about him.

She sighed deeply; she wished that she could talk to someone about what she had seen this man do. Especially when he had healed the damage done to her ankle. He must come from another world, she thought as she reflected on what he had done. No one on Earth could do something like that. She felt special because this man had helped her, but she really regretted not speaking to him more when she had the chance to, and now it was too late. She wished that she had at least thanked him for helping her before she ran away. She remembered his face, how unhappy he looked. His sad expression she couldn't get out of her mind. Maybe because she had more in common with him than she had originally thought.

But, as much as she wanted to, she also knew that if she spoke to anyone else about what happened, they'd think she was crazy. An alien from outer space helping a 14-year-old girl. But what was it she had seen? Maybe it was the reflection of the moon on the water. She shook her head, dismissing that thought. She had been at the ocean side before at night, and she knew how the moon looked on the water.

She glanced down at her ankle. No, there was no way that this could have been a trick. Her ankle was broken, even the man said so, and she remembered how it had swollen up when he had come over to her. She also remembered the pain she felt after her ankle had slammed into that rock. She had been afraid that he was going to blast her with whatever it was he had, but when his hand had rested on her shoulder, she felt warmth that she couldn't describe, and he helped her.

If I could, she thought to herself, I'd go back in time and ask him who he really is and why he had helped me. So many people in the world would have walked by without saying or doing anything, she thought, but this man didn't, he knew I was afraid, but he came to me and helped me.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and laid down her pen. After a few moments of staring at the plain white walls of her bedroom, she picked up her pen and continued to write until her mother knocked on her door some fifteen minutes later.

Taking a small silver key from her pocket, she locked the diary up and put it inside the drawer of her nightstand. Next, she went to close the window and open the door.

"Whew, it's warm in here," Brenda exclaimed as she entered the room. "Does the air conditioner not work anymore?"

"No, it works fine, I just like fresh air better, so I turned it off, and opened the window." Sharon said softly. "Is that OK?"

Brenda nodded hesitantly, and they left together.

o O o

By Sunday afternoon, George Fox was happy. He had managed to meet with Jerry Theiss and his parents, and learned the name of the girl he had to find, Sharon Peters. They had given them the address of the Peters' beach house, and the two agents arrived there in the early evening and knocked on the door.

Penny opened the door, "Yes?"

"My name is George Fox, this is Benjamin Wylie, and we're with the Federal Security Agency. We're looking for Sharon Peters. Is she here?" Fox said, pulling his identification from his pocket and showing it to the woman in the doorway. Wylie did the same.

"No, but please come in," Penny moved aside so the two men could enter the beach house. "My name is Penny Higgons, I'm a friend of Steven Peters, Sharon's father." The two men sat down in the living room as Penny spoke up, "Why is someone in the federal government interested in Sharon, she's just a kid?"

"Ms. Higgons, we have reason to believe that an incident involving Sharon took place on Friday night. We'd only like to ask her a few questions about it." Fox answered.

"Friday night? Mr. Fox, I'm afraid I have no idea what you are talking about." Penny answered. "Sharon went to the movies with two of her girlfriends and then came back here."

"She didn't mention anything out of the ordinary that might have happened?" Wylie asked.

"No, and as far as I know she didn't mention anything to her father either." Penny said.

"You said she isn't here, when will she be back?" Fox asked.

"Not for a few months, she left San Diego yesterday. Her mother won custody of her in court last week. She won't be back here until Thanksgiving." Penny answered. "Is there anything else I can help you with, gentlemen?"

Fox shook his head, "Where is Mr. Peters?"

"He went get some cleaning supplies for the deck and probably won't be back for awhile. Do you want to wait? I could make some coffee or something. I also just picked up some chocolate cake at the deli?" Penny offered.

"That'd be very nice, thank you." Both men answered as Penny stood up and went into the kitchen. For some reason, she didn't want to mention where exactly Sharon was to them. After all, she wasn't married to Steven, and she felt that since she wasn't a member of the family she had no right to say anything. Besides that, she didn't know them and felt that if they were going to contact anyone, they should talk to Brenda or Steven, not their daughter.

She poured some coffee into the filter and set it inside the machine. Next, she poured some water into the machine and replaced the lid to the coffee can. She turned the machine on and returned to the living room.

"The coffee will be ready in a few minutes." She sat down across from them.

"Maybe you can help us, then. Have you seen these two individuals? The man is Paul Forrester and the boy is his son, Scott Hayden." Fox produced two photographs and handed them to her.

"Are they dangerous?" Penny asked.

Fox nodded solemnly without saying a word.

"You think that Sharon is involved with federal fugitives?" Penny stifled her laughter.

"Ms. Higgons, this is not a laughing matter, a witness said they saw a man who resembled Forrester talking to Sharon on Friday night." Fox answered. "The police contacted the agency and we came out here to investigate."

"I'm sorry, I just find it hard to believe that Sharon would be involved with 'wanted people'. She's a good kid, kinda introverted, but a nice girl." Penny offered, but after a few minutes, her gaze met that of George Fox. "She's not in any kind of trouble, is she?"

"No, like I said earlier, we'd just like to talk to her and see if she knows where Forrester and the kid are." Fox answered as a loud beeping sound could be heard from in the kitchen.

"Please excuse me, that's the timer, the coffee's ready," Penny walked into the kitchen and poured the coffee into three cups, grabbed a tray and returned to the living room. She handed each of them a cup and took a plate with some cake off the tray and sat it in front of them. "What are Paul Forrester and Scott Hayden wanted for anyway, this boy couldn't be much older than Sharon?"

"This is classified information," Fox answered hurriedly.

"The charge is classified?" Penny asked.

"Yes," Fox answered taking a sip of his coffee.

"Oh, I see." Penny picked up a fork, took the plate with the cake on it, and stabbed at it. These two are really starting to sound like a hoax, she thought to herself. Her mind drifted to the conversation she had with Sharon on Saturday morning for some reason. She had asked me about UFOs and aliens, and that's so unlike her. Penny sighed deeply, but said nothing about the conversations they had prior to Saturday morning when Sharon left.

"Is Sharon the type of person who would keep things to herself?" Wylie asked.

"Well, she's very quiet, but she also knows when she should say something and when she shouldn't." Penny offered. "I guess you could say she's very tactful."

Fox nodded and sat his empty coffee cup on the tray. "Thank you for the coffee, Ms. Higgons, we won't take anymore of your time. Please give Mr. Peters this card, it has the number to the hotel where we're staying." He stood up and motioned to Wylie, who picked up the pictures and slid them into a manila folder. Once Wylie stood up, both of them made their way towards the door.

Outside they got into the car, "I want the telephone line tapped." Fox said and Wylie nodded. "I need to find out where exactly Sharon Peters is. She's the only lead we have. I think she knows where Forrester and the kid are, and I intend to find out everything she knows."

"Yes, sir." Wylie started the car, and drove in the direction of the San Diego Police Department.

Penny was left standing in the doorway of the beach house. She held the card and a pad of paper in her hand. A six-digit number was scrawled on it depicting the license plate number of their car. She sighed deeply, "Steven, I'm so glad you bought a portable phone last weekend," she muttered under her breath as she went back inside the house and closed the door.

She grabbed a roll of quarters off the table, and went to retrieve her jacket. Sometimes she wondered if she was paranoid, but she didn't trust these government agents, and she intended to make sure that the telephone at her boyfriend's house would not be used for at least a week.

Once outside, she locked the door, went down the street to the pay phone and called Steven's portable phone number. "Steven, something weird is going on," Penny said concern in her voice once he answered the phone.

"What?" Steven asked.

"These two men from the Federal Security Agency came by the house this afternoon and asked me a bunch of questions about Sharon." Penny answered. "I think something very odd is going on, I don't trust them."

"Where are you, Penny?" Steven asked.

"I walked down the street to the pay phone," she answered. "I was afraid to call from the house. You know my brother works for the State Troopers and I guess I'm a little paranoid."

"Yeah, that's probably smart," Steven said and she could hear other people's voices coming through the line.

Penny relayed the information she had gotten from the two men to Steven and waited for him to say something else to her. When he didn't she finished by telling him that she had written down their license plate number, and also had a card George Fox had given her.

"And they were asking questions about Sharon?" Steven's voice shadowed concern.

"Yes," Penny answered as she coiled the phone cord around her hand. "But, I don't think it's safe to go to Sharon, and tell her anything about this right now. I mean she's having a difficult time dealing with moving and all."

"Yeah, if we hear from them again, I'll have to call Brenda and let her know what is going on." Steven said.

"What about the phone?" Penny asked.

"We just won't answer the phone there for about a week. Besides, most of our friends have my cell phone number anyway, so if they can't reach me at the house, they contact me that way." He paused, "don't worry about it. It's probably nothing."

"I hope you're right, but I'm a bit afraid for Sharon." Penny said.

"I am too," Steven answered honestly. "I hope she's handling everything OK." He looked down at his watch, "Listen, the store's about to close, so I'll be home soon and we can discuss everything then."

"OK," Penny answered and hung up the phone. As she made her way back towards the house, she sighed deeply. She had a nagging feeling about the entire situation. Talking to Steve did little to reassure her. Her mind drifted back to the conversation that she and Sharon had yesterday morning. She had a feeling that it had something to do with the entire reason why these agents had paid her a visit. Aliens and UFOs, well this seemed to be something that the feds didn't mind wasting our tax money on pursuing, she thought and laughed as she unlocked the door.

o O o

Monday morning, Scott woke up and noticed that his father was already dressed and ready to go. "Good morning, Dad," he said as he crawled out of bed.

"Good morning," Paul answered. "We'd better hurry. I forgot to set the alarm, and now we're both going to be late. Can you handle everything with the school? I have to drive downtown this morning and see if I can find a job. I can drop you off at school on the way, though."

"OK," Scott rushed into the bathroom.

Paul went into the kitchen, pulled out some frozen waffles for breakfast, and grabbed the a container of maple syrup. Once the waffles were in the toaster, he pulled some plates out of the cabinet and set them on the table. Once everything was ready, Scott came out of the bathroom with his head wrapped in a towel.

"Waffles? Are they ready?" Scott asked, taking a place at the table.

"Almost," Paul referred to the box.

When they were ready, Paul took his son's plate, put two waffles on it, and sat the plate in front of Scott. He returned to the kitchen to make himself some as well.

Scott spoke to him as he cut one of the waffles into bite-sized pieces, "Are you feeling any better now? I know that you weren't doing so well Friday night."

Paul nodded, "Yes, I'm fine now."

"You're still worried about that girl from the beach, aren't you?" Scott asked.

"A little. I wonder how she's emotionally handling what happened. I know I frightened her, but that wasn't my intention." Paul answered as he put two more waffles in the toaster.

Scott shrugged, "I know, you wouldn't hurt a fly."

"But she doesn't know that," Paul interjected.

"I know, but you shouldn't worry about it, you'll probably never see her again anyway. And even if you do, you probably won't recognize her." Scott said. "I mean do you remember her face?"

"It was dark, I couldn't see her face very well. But, I know she saw mine," Paul said softly. "I think if she saw me, or my picture, she'd know who I am."

"You mean if Fox showed up and showed her your picture?" Scott asked.

Paul nodded as he reached over and grabbed the plate off the table. Once he had that, he sat two finished waffles on the plate, carried it over to the table, and joined his son.

"Do you want to leave, or do you think we're safe here?" Scott asked.

"I don't know, I guess we're safe. Even if Fox shows up in San Diego, we're far enough away." Paul answered.

The two of them ate in silence and when they finished, Scott grabbed his backpack and began stacking some of his books inside. Paul swung the strap of his camera bag over his shoulder and the two of them left the small apartment together.

o O o

"Sharon Peters," said the Assistant Principal, "welcome to Franklin High School. Here is your schedule, and your other information."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gordon," she took the small piece of paper and put it in the folder that she had received when she entered the cramped office. Brenda sat beside her waiting for the meeting to end so she could head downtown to her office.

"Well, that's all, Dr. Peters, thank you for coming in with Sharon this morning." The woman stood up and shook Brenda's hand and then shook Sharon's.

Sharon left the cramped office, and made her way down the hallway. Her mother followed until she reached the door, which would lead outside. "See you later, Honey. Have a good day. Do you want me to pick you up after school?"

"No, I'd rather walk, it's only a few blocks, right?" Sharon said.

"Yes." Brenda looked down at her watch. "OK then, I'll see you tonight." She opened the door, which would lead outside and turned around to face Sharon one last time. "Bye, Honey."

"Bye, Mom." Sharon called out as her mother exited through the door and it was closing. She made her way back down the hallway, the map of the school held tightly in one hand, her schedule and locker number in the other. She sighed deeply; she was on her own.

After about ten minutes of looking, she finally found her locker, and opened it. She put the map, her schedule and locker information in the small folder, and stuffed everything else inside the locker.

"Hey, I was hoping I'd run into you," a voice called out, and she looked up. Scott was making his way towards her, his arms loaded down with books. He looked at the rows of lockers and found out his was right next to hers. He managed to open it and stuff the books inside.

"Hi," she said shyly, glad that he had managed to find her in this large school.

"Did you get your schedule and stuff?" He asked.

"Yes, I just came from the Assistant Principal's office." She looked down at her schedule, "right now I have Geometry," she opened the folder and pulled out the schedule.

"Really? Can I see? Maybe we have some classes together." She nodded and Scott looked at her schedule and back down at his own. "Yeah, we do, English, Health, and Chemistry."

"What do you have right now?" Sharon asked, her expression unchanging. She was not happy; usually she'd be meeting her friends at this time and going over the homework that didn't get done over the weekend. She was so homesick that she wanted to cry.

"History," Scott answered but when she said nothing, he spoke again. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I just have a lot on my mind," she answered honestly. "This is the first time I've ever been to a new school in a new town. I miss my friends." Sharon said softly.

"Don't worry, everything's going to be OK." Scott grinned at her, "You're talking to an old pro when it comes to being the new kid in town."

"Pro?" Sharon looked at him skeptically.

"Well, yeah, I've changed schools about 14 times over the last year." Scott answered. "Remember Saturday when I told you that we travel a lot?" Once she nodded, he continued, "Well it's true, my dad's a photo journalist, and we have to go where the action is. It's not an easy life, but it's definitely not boring."

"Really?" Sharon asked smiling weakly.

"Yeah," he grinned at her. "Come on, let's navigate around this place together." He pulled his own map out of the folder he carried. "But, I gotta warn you, the first place I can usually find in a new school is the cafeteria."

Sharon laughed and followed him down the hall. "Have you ever had problems with it?"

"Not really. I used to have a lot of problems with it, though. But, I think talking to someone about such things sometimes makes them not such a big deal." Scott said gently. "I mean, I usually talk to my dad if I'm unhappy about something. He's really great about listening, and he doesn't freak out about things."

"I wish I could talk to my dad. I used to be able to, but now, things are so different that I really don't know what I could tell him. I mean the other night..." her voice trailed and she sighed deeply, "I mean, he's San Diego, and he's more like a friend than my dad. We used to have so much fun together. Then he and my mom were fighting each other for me in a messy custody battle." Sharon looked at Scott who nodded sympathetically.

"Go on," he said softly, "it sounds like you need a friend."

"My parents both wanted me to live with them, but nobody bothered to ask me what I wanted. The lawyers, my parents, not even the judge asked, they all simply assumed what was best. But moving here wasn't the best, and I told my dad's girlfriend, Penny. She was the only person who could see what this was doing to me. She gave me this necklace before I left because she knew how much I love the seaside." Sharon brushed a tear away from her cheek but not before he saw it.

"My mom is OK, but she and I are like oil and water. I mean I got to the apartment on Saturday after we met at the planetarium, and my mom had an interior designer in there and my room looks awful. White carpet, and a baby pink bedspread with itchy lace. I sound ungrateful, but it's not me."

"Your mom sounds like someone who still thinks they have a small child rather than a teenager." Scott offered honestly, as they reached the room where she would have her class.

Sharon nodded, "Yeah, exactly. I lived with my dad for about two years during their separation, and it was great. I spent every evening at the seaside. I could sit for hours and watch the moon reflecting off the water. My father used to call me his little mermaid, because I was always sitting outside. When I got to the apartment, the first thing I did was open the window and turn off the air conditioner."

"I think you're lucky though. My mom isn't with us now, and I haven't seen her since I was three years old." Scott said. "You have both parents who want to give you everything."

"Why isn't your mother with you?" Sharon asked thinking about what he had said.

"It's a long story, but I think that's part of the reason we spend so much time traveling." he said sadly. "But, I think that if you hate your room that much, maybe you should tell your mom, and not keep it to yourself." Scott patted her shoulder tenderly.

"Maybe you're right, but talking to my mom's not easy, she's a professional head shrinker," Sharon said, smiling weakly.

"Psychologist?" When Sharon nodded, he grinned at her, "I think I understand now." He paused to change the subject. "Listen, after you suffer through Geometry, I'll meet you in English. Maybe we can also sit together during lunch."

"You want to sit with me?" Sharon asked.

"Why is that such a surprise to you?" Scott asked.

"I don't know," Sharon answered walking into the classroom and leaving him alone.

o O o

After the school day ended, Scott and Sharon walked out of their last class together. "Is your dad coming to pick you up?"

"No, our apartment is only a few blocks away," Scott said.

"Do you walk to school too?" She asked.

"Usually I do. I don't like the busses too much; they're really uncomfortable. When I was living in Seattle, I sometimes took the bus, and then I could help my foster parents at their flower shop." Scott said.

"I thought you were with your dad?" Sharon said.

"My dad wasn't with me at that time," he said softly.

"Oh," Sharon said, "I'm sorry."

"It was a while ago, I wouldn't worry about it." Scott answered. "Listen, I have an idea. I saw this small take out restaurant on the way to the school this morning, why don't we stop there and get a cola or something on our way home? I mean you're going back towards the center of town, right?"

"Yes, my mom's apartment is right across the street from the park." Sharon answered as they walked through the courtyard of the school and made their way across the parking lot. She was very glad that he had made this suggestion because the thought of going back to her mother's empty apartment didn't appeal to her at all.

"It's such a great day, isn't it? Why don't we go to the park after we get the drinks? I can't imagine spending an afternoon like this inside a restaurant, can you?" Scott suggested.

Sharon nodded, "Yeah, I know what you mean. I'd like that a lot."

"We live a little closer to the school, I'll show you as we walk by," Scott said. "I like it OK here. I'm fonder of bigger cities, though. I don't know why, I guess because I grew up in one."

Sharon nodded, "I lived my whole life in San Diego. I told you that my dad has this beach house. But, aside from the beach, it was great. The movie theater was about a mile away; I could walk there and meet my friends. There was also a small restaurant where we used to hang out, they had the best milkshakes in the world."

Towards the end of the street stood a small Chinese restaurant. They walked inside and each bought a can drink and left. "Yeah, I know what you mean. A lot of people get the idea that big cities are large and unfriendly, but you get used to living in a certain area, and then the rest of the city seems like a new and unfamiliar place, but that area becomes home." Scott offered. "I like having places to go and hang out. The last night that we were in San Diego, I met with some of the guys at the video arcade. I mean we didn't play too many games; we just drank cola and talked. It was pretty cool." Scott stopped speaking as they walked by some older looking apartment buildings. He pointed to one of them, "We live over there, apartment 24."

Sharon nodded, noting the number he had given to her. She liked him; he was interesting. Her mind drifted to the planetarium and the exhibition he had seen. Finally, she glanced over at him as she opened her drink. "How was the exhibition at the planetarium?"

"It was really interesting," Scott offered smiling. "It was called 'The Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence'. I liked it a lot, but I think it has something to do with my interest in Astronomy. I've been contemplating studying that when I go to college."

"Do you believe that there is life out there on other planets?" Sharon asked as they reached the park and sat down in the warm grass. She tossed her notebook on the ground and reached over to take off her shoes. "I mean most of the people I know think it's a bunch of baloney. What do you think?"

"Well, I don't really know," he lied, "but, I guess anything's possible." He stopped speaking as he felt the small round object, which was sitting, in his pocket. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and sipped his drink. "What do you think?"

Sharon immediately thought about the man on the beach, and sighed. He seemed to be constantly in her mind. She glanced down at her ankle, but after a second or two passed, she finally looked up at him. She didn't trust herself to tell him about what had happened to her. In the back of her mind, she was still frightened about what happened, but her main concern was what he would think about her if she talked about it.

She remembered the blue light she had seen, and how it made her feel. She looked down, but after a few seconds passed, she looked back at him. "I don't really know what I believe, Scott."

Scott sighed sadly. Sharon obviously had a lot on her mind, and it struck him as being a little odd that such a conversation would make her sad. He didn't understand why, but he wished that his father was there. He had a small suspicion that Paul could help her, but somehow, he felt uneasy about introducing the two of them. He took another sip of his drink and looked down at the notebooks they had strewn across the grass.

After a few seconds passed, he reached over and grabbed one of the notebooks on the ground. He opened it and pulled out a sheet of paper. His History readings were listed and he groaned when he realized that he had one for the following day. "Oh, great," he muttered. "Sharon, I have to go back to school," he grumbled. "I forgot my textbook for my History class and I have an assignment that I'm supposed to read tonight." He tossed the notebook back down on the grass and finished his drink.

Standing up, he looked around for a garbage can to drop his empty can in. Once he spotted one, he walked over to it, threw his can away, and rejoined her seconds later. Once he returned, he started collecting his books quickly and once they were all in his hands, he smiled weakly, "I'm really sorry, I must have lost my head."

"It's OK, Scott, I wouldn't worry about it. I've forgotten things too. I'll see you tomorrow." Sharon said softly as she finished her drink.

Scott nodded and ran back in the direction of the school. Sharon was left sitting alone and she finally looked up at the sky. Do you believe in Extra Terrestrials, he had asked her. Maybe he was really interested in what she believed, but she didn't know what she thought.

Maybe I am nuts, maybe it was all a dream; maybe I imagined the whole thing. Her hand brushed across her ankle. No, it wasn't a dream, she sighed, these things really happened to me. Was there anyone I could trust enough to talk about this to, she continued to ask herself. Here she was the daughter of a psychologist and she had no one to talk to. The ironic thing was the most burdensome thoughts weren't necessarily centered on the man she had seen, but around the entire situation she was forced to live in.

She sighed deeply, reached over, and grabbed the notebook, which was laying at her feet. Her Geometry teacher had given her a worksheet to do for the following day and she decided that it would be better for her to do it here, than to try to do it amongst the ruffles and lace of her bedroom. She figured that the park was the ideal place for her to get started on the homework. She opened the notebook.

Upon seeing handwriting inside, she moaned. In his haste, Scott must've grabbed her notebook by mistake. She closed it, and reached over to retrieve her shoes. After putting them on, she stood up, and started walking in the direction of where Scott and his father lived.

Maybe she could wait there until Scott got home with her notebook. She hoped anyway, because if she didn't get that homework assignment back, she'd be catching not only the grief from her teacher, but probably from her mother as well.

She made her way across the park, and down the street towards the group of apartment buildings Scott had pointed out. He had said he lived in apartment 24, she thought to herself, once she reached the sidewalk, which would lead towards the rows of apartments. Odd numbers are downstairs, the even ones are upstairs she noticed as she grabbed the handrail and began climbing the wooden steps. Once she reached the top of the stairs, she walked slowly down the corridor, which was separated by an iron railing.

Finally, she reached the door marked 24, rang the doorbell, and waited. Within seconds, the door swung open and a man was standing in the doorway. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes widened, and the notebook she held, slid from her fingers and landed at his feet.

She swallowed hard, her eyes finally looking into the same pair of eyes she had seen at the beach back in San Diego. It can't be, her mind whirled. She stood, her back against the railing and unable to move or utter a sound.

"Are you OK?" The voice, the same voice. It was him; the man she had seen, the blue light. Upon hearing the soft voice she knew, she felt dizzy and slid to the ground.

o O o

Paul stood in the doorway, watching the strange reaction of the girl. He looked at her long blond hair, and the blue dress she wore. She did look vaguely familiar, but he didn't know why. He kneeled down onto the concrete of the corridor where he could be eye level with her.

After a few seconds, he looked down at her feet and saw the silver sandals she wore. Of all the things he could recognize about her, he remembered the shoes she had worn when he healed the damage the rock had done to her ankle. It had to be her, the girl he had spent the last few days worrying about, but he couldn't understand how it was she came to knock on his door.

He waved his hand in front of her face but received no acknowledgment. She was leaning against the railing and her eyes were closed, as though she was asleep. She must be completely overwhelmed, he thought as he picked her up in his arms, carried her inside the apartment, and laid her gently on the sofa. Returning outside, he retrieved the notebook she had been carrying, closed the door, and turned around as she began to stir.

He made his way over to a chair opposite the sofa where she was laying and opened the notebook and looked down at it while waiting for her to regain total consciousness. He knew it'd be unwise to approach her suddenly, so he sat down in the chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn't want to frighten her like he had done at the beach, but he could tell through his touch, that she was a very confused and unhappy young girl. He couldn't ignore the nagging suspicion that maybe he had been the cause of some of her unhappiness.

He finally opened the notebook she had with her. Strange, he thought after he looked at the first page, the handwriting inside he recognized as being Scott's. Sighing sadly, he continued to look through the notebook as he waited for her to awaken.

Her eyes slowly opened, but when she didn't recognize where she was, she sat up quickly, and looked around, fear evident in her face when she didn't recognize the room she was in. "W-where am I?" She asked when her eyes finally came to rest on Paul. He noticed then that the expression on her face had changed. She didn't look as frightened anymore, just terribly confused.

"You're safe here. You just fainted." Paul answered softly.

The girl looked up and spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Oh my God, it's you! You're the man from the beach." She shook her head, "but I don't understand, that was in San Diego."

"Yes, I am the man you saw on the beach. My name is Paul," He answered softly. "Are you OK? You really scared me when you passed out."

She nodded numbly, but remained silent.

"What's your name?" he asked after her extended silence.

"S-Sharon Peters." She said, her voice trembling.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked her.

She nodded timidly still unable to speak. She grasped hold of the silver necklace she wore. She was hoping it could offer her some sort of stability in the moment she had internally wished for. Now that she had it, she didn't know what to say, or do, and this left her feeling even more confused then she already was. She swallowed the lump, which had formed in her throat and looked back over at him still unable to utter a sound.

"I'd never do anything to hurt you, Sharon. I think you know that," he said softly, intentionally using her name in an effort to calm her fear. He hoped that the distance he maintained with her would ease the tension.

This was Scott's father; she could hardly believe it. She remembered the conversations that she had with Scott, and how and he had said that his father was easy to talk to. This was too unbelievable to be real; he was really there, and so kind. She closed her eyes for a moment trying to block out his face, but when she opened them once again, he was still sitting across from her. His eyes carrying the same look of openness that she remembered seeing at the beach.

Paul sighed deeply; obviously she was still trying to comprehend the events immediately following her knocking on his door. In a way he could understand why she had reacted this way, the chances of him being the one who opened the door to her was about as likely as either of them having the winning ticket in the California Lottery.

Paul stood up and went into the kitchen for a moment and came back out holding two glasses and a bottle of water. He sat them on the table and returned to his seat. He opened the bottle and poured water into each glass. "Here, drink some water." He offered as he reached for his glass and took a sip. He sat the glass back on the coffee table, and spoke to her softly, "I've been worried about you."

Sharon's eyes widened as she hesitantly reached over and took the glass he offered, "You have?"

"Yes, I know you saw me do something," he paused not knowing what word would describe what she had seen him do. Finally, he used the one he had heard Scott often use, "weird."

She nodded slowly, "I thought you were going to be angry with me." She shrugged her shoulders; "I was frightened that you were going to blast me with that light."

Paul pulled the sphere from his pocket and showed it to her. After a second, he shook his head and smiled weakly. "No, I'd never do that." He paused as he returned the object to his pocket, "I hope I didn't appear angry, because I wasn't. I was a little surprised, though."

Sharon's eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she remembered the night. She took a sip of water, as she tried to put into words how he had looked when she had seen him. "No, you just looked," she paused and her voice cracked as the last word came out, "unhappy."

"That's how I looked? Then why did you run away?" Paul asked.

She shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know, I guess because I felt the same way myself. I don't know why I ran away, maybe it was stupid of me to, but I was afraid."

Paul shook his head; "it wasn't stupid if you were afraid. Fear tends to control a lot of how people react." He looked at her and asked another question, "are you still afraid of me?"

She looked into his eyes; they were as blue as the sea, like the calm blue of the ocean near her father's beachfront home. Finally, her voice came out barely above a whisper, "No, I guess not, but I am still a little nervous."

Paul smiled gently, "I understand why you were afraid on Friday, Sharon. I had done something considered by most to be strange and frightening. But, the truth is, I wouldn't hurt anyone."

"Then it's safe for me to talk to you about what happened?" Sharon asked softly.

Paul nodded, "of course it is."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Would you believe me if I told you that I've regretted running away since Friday night?" she said honestly.

Paul nodded, "Yes, but why?"

His question caused some of her held back tears to begin streaming down her cheeks, but she held them back by sheer will, and finally her answer came out. "On Saturday, I had to leave and I didn't want to. I had spent my whole life in San Diego, and felt like I was being torn in two having to come here. I guess when I saw you, I saw me, because you looked sad, and that's how I felt." She smiled weakly.

"You were right, Sharon, I was very unhappy. I had been feeling homesick and went to the beach to find a way to connect with my home. That was the blue light you saw," he said. "I didn't know you were there, and that's why I was surprised, but I didn't intend to frighten you."

"I have a feeling that you're from a lot farther away than San Diego." She said, her voice small.

Paul nodded simply not offering any explanation. He could tell by looking at her that she needed to talk much more than he did.

"Then you do understand how I feel?" Once he nodded, she spoke again. "Then I wasn't imagining it." Sharon said as the tears continued to stream down her cheeks. "You're homesick, like me." She grasped the starfish necklace that Penny had given to her with one hand, and reached into her pocket with the other. She pulled out the cloth handkerchief, and tried to wipe the persistent tears away. After a few swipes with the cloth, she gave up trying because she could no longer hide her overwhelming sadness.

She looked up at him and saw compassion in his eyes. It didn't matter where he came from, because of all the people she had talked to throughout the whole messy ordeal. He was the one person she knew who would understand her.

Standing up, he made his way over to where she was sitting and sat down next to her.

As she unfolded the handkerchief, she looked down at the floral patterns of the small piece of cloth. After a few seconds she started winding it between her fingers until she wasn't able to hold back her emotions any longer. The handkerchief drifted to the floor and she began to weep softly, her hands covering her tear-stained face.

Paul moved over so he would be sitting closer to her. He pulled some tissues from his pocket and slid them into one of her hands. He rested his hand on one of her shoulders and squeezed it comfortingly. He could feel it, under his hand, shaking as she cried. After a few seconds passed, her arms reached out towards him.

Paul nodded, he understood now; she needed someone else's strength for a change. The emotions he had gotten from her the at the beach were clear now. He moved over closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. As he held her tightly in his arms, he whispered in her ear, "it's OK."

She maintained her embrace with him as her tears landed on the front of his shirt. She continued to cry as she released the emotional strain of the custody battle, her mother taking her from her home, and the changes she had to accept without a word.

Paul held onto her, but his mind drifted as he felt the emotional burden she seemed to be under. She's just a child, he thought to himself, I don't understand how someone could emotionally cope with the burdens she obviously had to carry.

After a few minutes passed, her crying became softer, and she looked up at him. The tears had left her face red and puffy, but she finally managed to regain control of her wayward emotions. She was still in his arms and wiped her nose and eyes with the tissue he had given to her, "thank you."

"For what?" He loosened his embrace and looked at her questionably.

"For being here for me when I really needed someone to talk to." Sharon said softly. He shrugged his shoulders as she continued to speak. "I also never got the chance to thank you for helping me on the beach Friday night." She said reaching down and retrieving her handkerchief. "Most people wouldn't have done anything. But, I can't get it out of my mind, what I saw you do."

Paul nodded, "I'm sorry if what you saw left you feeling frightened and confused. I would like to explain to you what you saw, but I had the feeling it was important for you to talk first."

"I guess if I hadn't run away, I wouldn't have felt this way, but I couldn't help it. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen, but it frightened me at the same time." She said softly.

Paul nodded, "I know, but I couldn't have left you there after you had hurt yourself. You had broken your ankle, and it was within my power to help you."

"After I got home that night, I felt really bad. You had helped me, and I didn't even know your name." Sharon whispered.

Paul smiled, "Well, now you do." He paused looking at her sympathetically. "I understand now why you reacted as you did, I was just surprised when I saw you on the beach."

"Not half as surprised as I was," she said with a small smile on her face.

Paul nodded, and after a few moments passed, he asked the question he had wanted to ask since she arrived, "I'm curious though, did you talk to anyone about what happened?"

She shook her head, "I wanted to, but everyone I know would have thought I was crazy. I wanted to tell Penny about it. She's my dad's girlfriend, and we get along really well, but after I asked her one question, and she answered it, I knew that I couldn't even tell her about it." She sighed deeply, "I didn't even mention it to Scott. I guess I could have, but I was afraid he'd think I was crazy too."

Paul smiled gently at the girl, "I am grateful that you kept this to yourself, but I feel badly that you suffered as a result of what happened."

"It wasn't really you that caused me pain, it was a lot of things that were going on over the past few weeks that did that. I told Scott about it, my parents were fighting each other about where I'd live, but neither of them bothered to ask me what I wanted. Finally, the judge told my father that he'd have to send me here to live with my mother. That's why I left San Diego."

"And you didn't want to leave, did you?" He asked.

She shook her head, "I wanted to stay with my dad. He and I are more alike. My mom and I are like oil and water, she likes abstract art, and I like live pictures. The thing is, even though my dad is always busy, I can talk to him sometimes, and can usually be honest about how I feel about certain things. With my mom, I can't even talk to her about problems at school without her trying to psychoanalyze me."

"Psychoanalyze?" Paul's eyes widened, "I don't understand."

Paul's lack of knowledge didn't seem to phase her, and she began to explain what she was trying to say to him. "It just means that because of her work, she always wants to test me to see if I fit any of the personality types or something like that. I don't really understand it, but I hate it."

Paul nodded sympathetically, "I must admit, I'm relieved that I wasn't entirely what caused you so much pain, but I am sorry that you had to go through all that you did. You said that I didn't have anything to do with the pain you suffered, but I have a feeling that I did."

She looked at him wanting to shake her head, but when his eyes met hers, she finally nodded slowly. "I just don't understand what I saw. I thought for a while that maybe it was my eyes playing tricks on me. But, I grew up on the seaside, and I know that it wasn't a trick. Paul, you healed my broken ankle, and that wasn't a dream. I don't know what you did, but I could walk." She touched the spot on her foot where the bone had been broken. "Please, tell me, who you are, and don't tell me you're just a friend," she smiled timidly, "because that, I already know."

He smiled gently, but before he could begin to tell her all that he wanted, the door swung open and Scott came inside. "Sharon? What are you doing here?" He asked when he saw her sitting on the sofa in their living room.

Sharon blushed slightly, but because of the conversation, which had taken place with Paul, she had forgotten the reason she was there. Luckily, he didn't, "I think because you took the wrong notebook and she needed to get hers back." He pointed to blue notebook his son held.

Scott opened the notebook in his hand. Upon seeing her flowing script on the front page, he smiled timidly. "Yeah, I guess I was in such a big hurry that I grabbed the wrong one when I left the park, sorry."

Sharon nodded and accepted the notebook that Scott held out to her, "It's OK." She said looking from Paul to Scott and standing up. "I guess I should get home, so my mother doesn't worry." She walked towards the door and sighed deeply. She didn't really want to leave, but she also felt that now that Scott was home, the two of them would want to be alone.

After a few seconds Scott excused himself and went into the bathroom and she was left standing awkwardly near the door. She swallowed and finally spoke, "you don't have to tell me anything about what happened if you don't want to," she offered weakly, not fully believing the words as they escaped her lips.

Paul walked over to her and rested his hand on her shoulder, "I will tell you everything, but I need to talk to Scott about what happened first, so he will understand why I want to tell you. But, once I do, we'll have to leave and you probably won't see us again."

"You'll have to leave?" Sharon asked softly.

Paul nodded, "I think you know that we'll eventually go, Sharon."

She nodded, her hair falling over her eyes as she stood in the doorway. Opening the door, she looked back at Paul, he had said that he was her friend, and she believed him. Smiling weakly, she spoke softly once again, "I have a feeling that it has more to do with what happened Friday night than what Scott said about your work." She paused as her eyes once more met his. He nodded slowly as she continued to speak, "Will you tell Scott that I'll see him tomorrow at school?"

Paul smiled gently and nodded, as she walked outside and down the corridor. He closed the door.

o O o

Sharon was still in a daze as she left the apartment building where Paul and Scott lived. As she walked slowly towards her mother's apartment, she felt much better. She didn't know why, but it felt like a huge burden had been raised from her shoulders. She made her way back up the street and smiled. It had been such a long time since she actually had a reason to smile.

Within 10 minutes, she reached the apartment building where she lived and walked inside. She looked at her watch; it was already 6 p.m. Mom's probably at home now and she'll probably be angry because I'm late, she thought as she made her way up the stairs. When she reached the front door, she smiled weakly. It really didn't matter if her mother was angry, because she wouldn't have traded that afternoon for just about anything. She paused before she opened the door and walked inside.

Her mother was standing in the living room, a frown on her face. "Where have you been?" She demanded. "I've been worried sick about you. I was ready to call the police."

"I met someone after school and we went for a walk." Sharon said softly.

"You should at least call when you're going to be late," Brenda said curtly.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just used to living with Daddy. I never had to call when I would be late, only when there is an emergency." Sharon said.

"Well, you don't live with your father anymore, so I expect you to call me when you're going to be late." Brenda said as she walked into the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready in about 20 minutes."

Sharon sighed deeply, "OK." There was no point in arguing with her mother, and her mind was already preoccupied, so it didn't matter. She left the room before her mother could say anything else to her, walked down the hall to her room, and closed the door once she was inside. She pulled the key from her purse and retrieved the diary from her nightstand. Using the small key, she opened the book, and began to read the last entry from Saturday.

She smiled as she read about the man from the beach, now that he had a name. She couldn't believe she had met him again, finding him lightened the burden of all the problems she was enduring during the past months. That was why it didn't matter to her about being yelled at by her mother.

But, as her mind turned to the situation with her mother, she began to ponder why it was that her mother treated her like she did. I'm not eight years old anymore, but the way she acts, one would start to think I am. She picked up her pen and opened the book to the first blank page. She had every intention of writing her entry for the day, but for some reason, she wasn't able to write about what it was that happened that afternoon. It was probably safer inside, she thought to herself as she looked down at the blank page.

Finally, instead of writing something, she started doodling, drawing planets and stars along the borders of the page. On one, she wrote the name 'Paul' and smiled. After staring at it for about five minutes, she closed the book.

Her mind suddenly focused once again on her parents. Her mother was so high-strung about everything, she thought to herself with a frown. She really wasn't used to living like her mother seemed to expect and added to that, it felt like she was expected to change everything about herself when it came to living here.

Anything about her that resembled her father, her mother seemed to resent and she knew deep down inside, that there was a lot more about her that resembled her father than her mother. She looked up at the wall and sighed deeply as she saw the poster hanging there that her mother had bought for her Saturday afternoon.

Even the poster seemed to symbolize what she felt like she had lost. Rather than the picture being a photograph of the coastline, it was simply a watercolor painting of seaside. It looked like the cover of one of those 1,000 page novels that her mother had laying on the coffee table in the living room. She wasn't happy with it at all. She was somewhat hopeful that she would get used to it, but she didn't believe it.

She knew that getting that poster was another of the many sacrifices she had to make to please her overbearing mother. But, what about me and what I want? Living in this room was like a nightmare for her. I wish I could just go home. This town would never be home to me, she thought glumly.

She walked over to the stereo and turned on the radio. When she couldn't find some music to her liking, she grabbed her bag and pulled out some CDs. Her favorite type of music was country and she pulled a couple of her favorite CDs from the bag. One was music by The Judds and the other was a collection of songs by George Strait. These artists were her favorites, but for different reasons. She put on the Judds CD and turned the volume up loud enough where she could hear it, and soft enough where she wouldn't annoy her mother. She turned off the air conditioner, and opened the window.

She sat down at the desk as the music started. She picked up her pencil and grabbed the blue notebook as the song "Love Can Build a Bridge" filtered through the room. Rather than getting started on the homework, she listened to the lyrics of the emotional song. Somehow this song spoke to her louder than anything else could. She dropped the pencil on the desk and stared out the window.

Geometry was suddenly the farthest thing from her mind.

o O o

Fox and Wylie continued to interview people throughout Monday afternoon, to little success. They finally decided to return to the home of Steven Peters with the hope that he would be there. The tap on the phone line had been in place a little over 24 hours, and no one had called in or out. The location of Sharon Peters was still unknown to the two agents and Fox was getting impatient. Someone had to know where this girl was living.

They made their way up the path leading to the beach house. Steven was working in the front yard and had stopped for a moment and was wiping a cloth over his forehead as they approached. "Steven Peters?"

"Yeah?" He said as he stuffed the cloth in his pocket and continued working with the spade he had been holding in the other hand.

"Do you have a few minutes to speak with us?" Wylie asked.

Steven stopped working and turned to face the two men.

"I'm George Fox, and this is Benjamin Wylie, FSA. We were here yesterday, and interviewed your friend, Ms. Higgons." Fox said as he showed him the Agency identification he and his associate carried.

"Yes, Mr. Fox, Penny mentioned your visit to me when I got home last night. Sorry I wasn't here, I was buying supplies for the deck out back, as well as getting some things to get the garden in shape." Steven offered as he leaned the spade against the side of the house. "Come on in, I need to get a glass of water and we can talk there. It's a little too warm to stand out here and talk, isn't it?"

"Yes," came Wylie's grateful answer, "its much cooler back east."

"I can imagine," Steven led the two men back inside the house.

"I'm sure your friend, explained why we were here yesterday, Mr. Peters," Fox said as they entered the comfortable house once again.

"Yeah, she said that you were here to talk to Sharon, but she found it strange that you were only interested in speaking to my daughter and not to her mother or myself." Steven said.

"I explained that to her, as well, but I can assure you that your daughter isn't in any kind of trouble. We would only like to speak to her and see if she can help us find two fugitives. A witness said they saw her speaking to someone who resembled the man we're after, and we wanted to find out if she knew where they are. I can't understand why Ms. Higgons didn't explain that to you." Fox said, a slight edge in his voice.

"Listen, Mr. Fox. Penny told me what she felt she needed to explain and so I don't think you should be making assumptions about her because something may have gotten a bit mixed up." Steven said. "Besides that, based on the information I got, Penny seemed to be a bit more nervous about what you didn't tell her than what you did."

"Mr. Peters, I apologize for that, but there is a lot of information that I am not at the liberty to divulge." Fox said. "I'm currently involved in an investigation which is so important that you cannot imagine, and your daughter may have inadvertently gotten involved in it. We'd appreciate it if you would cooperate and tell us where she is, so that we can talk to her directly."

"Mr. Fox, my daughter is 14 years old, and I really don't feel that telling you or your associate where she is would be particularly wise. You have affirmed that she isn't in any trouble and I'd really like to help you. But, as a parent, I don't see how my daughter can help you with any investigation." Steven took a sip of his water. "Personally, I don't care if this is a top secret investigation or not, you're not telling me specifically what may have happened, and I'm not telling you where my daughter is without first talking to my ex-wife about this in detail."

Penny came in at this moment carrying a bag of groceries, and her gaze fell on the two men in the living room. Her normally friendly smile disappeared as she addressed the two of them, "Hello, Gentlemen."

"Ms. Higgons." Fox stood up abruptly and shook her hand. Wylie followed suit.

Penny accepted their hands with her free hand and took the bag into the kitchen. She returned some minutes later and sat down on the sofa. She listened as Fox pulled the pictures out of the folder and handed them to Steven. "In that case, I would like to ask you to please contact your ex-wife and ask her if we could speak to Sharon. I understand your concerns as the girl's parents, but we need you to understand the severity of the situation."

Steven looked over at Penny, his eyes widening.

"Mr. Peters, maybe you can help us, have you seen these two individuals by any chance?" Wylie asked as he produced the same photographs they had shown to Penny the day before. He handed them across the coffee table to Steven.

Steven accepted them, looked down at the pictures and after a few seconds, shook his head, "No sorry." He handed the pictures back to Wylie who stuffed them inside an envelope and both men stood up to leave.

They left the house quietly, and once they were gone, Penny looked at Steve, "I had a feeling they would be back, but I had no idea it would be so soon. What are we gonna do now? I don't trust them. I'm afraid they're going to follow us if we go to Brenda's apartment and discuss this with her."

"I know, and I have a feeling that they will continue to press us until we tell them where Sharon is." Steven said. "Maybe it's a blessing in disguise that she went to live with her mother when she did."

"A blessing in disguise? You can't be serious. Steven, if Sharon was here, she'd be able to face both of those men without problems. She a lot more grown up then you think." Penny sat back down. "Have you ever thought about how she feels about having to go and live with her mother?"

"I didn't really think about it, but I figured that she'd adjust to the change like any kid would," Steven said.

"But you knew that Sharon wanted to stay here, didn't you?" Penny asked.

"I guess so, she mentioned it on Saturday before she left." Steven said.

"Steven, how dense can you get? She's been hinting about it since the entire mess started." Penny said. "Frankly speaking, I don't think you really know your daughter very well. Sharon told me two weeks ago that you told her that this was strictly between her mother and you." Penny looked at her boyfriend shaking her head. "That's a bunch of baloney. Sharon's mental health was riding on the entire thing. It effected her more than you or Brenda could even imagine because this decided her future." Penny sighed deeply looking down at her lap, "it breaks my heart every time I think about it. Why wasn't she allowed to talk to the judge last week about what she wanted?"

"I was afraid that it was going to put too much of a strain on her," Steven said.

"And you don't think she experienced stress throughout this whole thing? Whatever she wanted was completely ignored. Steven she's not some valuable vase, she's a human being and your child. If she had been given the option of choosing, then she probably would have opted to staying here and the entire case could have been decided the way it should have been. You know how much she loved the water; I mean she spent so much time on the beach during the summer. She loved to take walks there at night and she told me that it was her favorite place in the world. Were you aware of the fact that she learned to surf during the summer?"

"She learned to surf?" He cracked a smile, despite himself. "If Brenda knew about that, she'd have had a fit."

"Who really cares what Brenda would have said? Throughout this entire mess, neither you nor Brenda even recognized Sharon. It was like a battle to see who would win, with Sharon as the first prize. You were both out to use Sharon as a way to hurt or destroy the other." Penny said, wiping a stray tear from her eye. "I know about this, my parents did the same thing to me when I was 12."

Steven shifted uncomfortably as she continued to speak. "You know what else? Sharon said more than anything, she wanted to stay with you, because her mother usually treats her like a baby, and her independence is very important to her. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for her to say good-bye to her friends and leave just like that. I think quite honestly, what happened to her wasn't fair. She should have been giving an option to choose, no matter how hard it might have been for her."

"I didn't know," Steven said softly. "I guess throughout the entire ordeal, I wasn't thinking about Sharon, but how it would effect me. Penny, you know I love my daughter, and the last thing I wanted to do was to hurt her."

"I know you weren't intending on hurting her, but what's done is done." Penny said softly resting her hand on her friend's shoulder. "But because of this, both you and Brenda did hurt her. Now something needs to be done to rectify it."

"You think I should call my lawyer and appeal the Judge's decision?" Steven asked.

"Yes, and this time, make sure that Sharon's directly involved in every stage of it." Penny said softly. "It may hurt her now, but in the long run, she'll be thankful that you took the time to actually listen to her." She sighed deeply, and continued to speak, "we do need to talk about how we're going to handle these two FSA guys if they come back. I know that we're going to have to tell Brenda about this, but there has to be a way to do it without her going ballistic. The last thing Sharon needs is, to have to cope with her mother going nuts and throwing out accusations on top of everything else." Penny said.

"What do you mean, about her going nuts?" Steven asked, his face pale.

"I mean with Brenda and how Sharon feels that she can't seem to do anything to please her. Brenda's so controlling that I can't imagine Sharon being able to maintain a speck of her independence there." Penny said, "I think forcing her to go live there was a big mistake."

"Penny, you know we had little choice," Steven said.

"I know, but remember what Brenda said about Sharon wanting to bring her clothes with her before she left?" Penny asked.

"Yeah, she said that Sharon wouldn't need them there because there was no beach and no appropriate place where she could wear them." Steven said.

Penny sighed, "I would have insisted on it regardless of what Brenda had said. No matter where you go, the possessions you have are like your security, or identity. If I were to leave California tomorrow, I'd take everything with me, even if I had to pay extra for it. Two suitcases are hardly what I would call all of one's personal possessions. Half of Sharon's keepsakes and stuffed animals are still in her room here. Did you notice that before she left, she put on a dress from her closet here, and not something from the suitcase?"

Steven shook his head, "No, I didn't notice anything. But I don't understand why you didn't say anything about this to me before now. Maybe if I had known, then I might have been able to make a difference."

"Steven, you still can make a difference, if you act with Sharon in mind and not yourself." Penny offered. "The reason I didn't mention anything about this before now is because we aren't married, and I'm not a member of the family. Even if I were, I'm not directly involved in Sharon's life, but I do care about her."

"I think that you're the most special person I've ever met," he said softly, "but what do you suggest I do about this situation with those two men that were here?"

"As much as I'd hate to say it, you'll probably have to call Brenda. But, if I were you, I'd wait and do it at the earliest tomorrow." Penny said softly.

"Why should I wait? If I have to do it, why can't I just do it now?" Steven asked not sure if it'd make a difference to hold off calling by one day.

"Because, Sharon started a new school today, and it wouldn't be fair to burden her with this on top of everything she's had to cope with." Penny said compassionately.

"OK, but I wish there was another way to deal with this situation. I hate calling Brenda, she's always such a grouch about things." Steven said softly.

"I know, but you're gonna have to do it for Sharon's sake, not for yours or Brenda's."

"OK, you win, I'll call her tomorrow morning." Steven said. "But, I have a feeling that I'm going to live to regret it."

"If those government guys come calling tomorrow, you're going to have to tell them something, and as long as Brenda knows about them, then maybe you both can agree on something that is best for Sharon. It's better that she knows they're coming then for these guys to find out from someone else, and not give Sharon any time to prepare for their questions. Right now, I think both of you need to concentrate on Sharon and not yourselves." Penny stood up and walked into the kitchen leaving Steven alone.

o O o

At the same time, Paul came out of the kitchen to see Scott working on his homework. He approached the table as the teenager laid down his pencil and closed the notebook. He sat down as Scott opened the history book and searched for the pages he had to read. "Scott, we need to talk."

"What's up?" Scott looked up from his book.

"It's about Sharon," Paul began, but before he could speak again, his son interrupted.

"Oh, Dad, I just met her this week, why is this such a big deal all the sudden?" Scott closed his book and stood up. He walked over and made himself comfortable on the sofa.

"I have to tell her who I am," Paul said simply.

"Why? She's just a girl I met at school, what's the big deal?" Scott asked interrupting his father for the third time.

"If you stop interrupting, I'll tell you," Paul said softly as he dug in his pocket and pulled out his sphere. The object he held tightly in his hand. "You probably won't believe this, but Sharon Peters is the girl I told you about who saw me using the sphere on the beach in San Diego." Paul answered.

"That's not possible, Dad. It couldn't have been the same person." Scott argued.

"Scott, she is the same person. I didn't believe it either, but it's true." Paul said. "When I opened the door this afternoon, she saw me, and fainted. Like I said this morning, she knew who I was, because she had seen me, but I didn't see her face that night, but I knew it was her."

Scott shrugged his shoulders, "How is it be that we all ended up in Franklin, then? That's kinda spooky."

"Her mother lives here, her father is in San Diego." Paul said softly.

"Yeah, she said that her dad has a beach house there," Scott offered. "Did she tell you about the custody battle?"

"What's that?" Paul asked.

"Both her parents wanted her to live with them," Scott explained, "so they called lawyers, went to court, and had it decided there."

"She mentioned it to me, but not in very much detail. She mostly talked to me about the relationship she has with her parents." Paul said. "She cried and all the feelings she had been harboring came out. I could sense them when I touched her shoulder."

"How did she feel?" Scott asked softly.

"She felt overburdened and sad." Paul whispered. "As we talked, I got the impression that she can't really talk to too many people honestly about what's happened to her."

"It's weird," Scott, remarked, "she never mentioned anything to me about what happened on Friday night. I don't understand why she didn't tell me. I thought she was my friend."

"She is your friend, but she was afraid to say anything to anyone." Paul paused and returned the object to his pocket. "She told me that a lot of people would have thought she was crazy if she had mentioned it to them, so she opted to keep it to herself."

"So basically, she's afraid to talk to anyone about it?" Scott asked.

"Well, she did speak to me about it, but only for awhile. She's confused about what happened. And, from what I saw happen with her today, her emotional burdens have been going on long before what occurred on Friday night."

"Yeah, she told me that her mom's impossible to talk to even though she's a psychologist," Scott offered. "It's a really sad situation. Makes me feel lucky that I have you." Paul blushed slightly as his son continued to speak, "she also told me that neither of her parents seem to want to listen to her. Man I really felt sorry for her after she told me that."

"She doesn't want your pity, Scott. What she wants is your friendship. She needs to talk to both of her parents and have them understand and accept what it is she wants. Right now, they don't seem to acknowledge that. Like I said, seeing me use the sphere on Friday night only confused her more, and that's why I have to tell her the truth about us." Paul explained.

"Yeah, OK. But, Dad, how are you gonna do that?" Scott looked at his father.

"I don't know. I want to tell her in a way that won't frighten her. She already knows that once I tell her, then we'll have to leave." Paul answered.

"I kinda figured that," Scott said.

"I have a feeling that it'd be best if you didn't talk to her about any of this. I'd rather do this myself." Paul said softly.

"OK, but what if she mentions it to me?" Scott asked.

"I don't know," Paul answered honestly. "Try to change the subject, I guess."

Scott nodded and picked up the TV schedule. He knew that his father was right to tell her, but he hoped that everything would be OK. Finally he looked over at his father, "did you find a job today?"

Paul shook his head, "No, but I will check the classifieds tomorrow morning, and see if there is anything available."

Scott nodded, picked up the remote control to the television, and turned it on.

o O o

The morning came quickly for Sharon; she sat up in bed and pushed the blankets away. She walked over to the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Her mind had been a thousand miles away since she spoke to Paul the day before. It had been like a dream to her. She still wasn't able to write about it either, and her diary's pages remained blank. For some reason, she was afraid to write down anything that described what happened for fear that somehow the wrong people might find out that Paul was there. She had a feeling that he and Scott were in some kind of trouble, but she couldn't place her finger on it. Maybe, Penny's paranoia was starting to rub off on her.

She quickly dressed and pulled her hair back in a rubber band. In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and washed her face.

As she left the bathroom, she realized that she wasn't really hungry, and figured that she'd just skip breakfast. Her main interest was to get out of her mother's cramped apartment and get to school. She figured that her mother was still in bed because she could hear the swells of music from the clock radio in her mother's room, which had gone off. She made her way down the hall but stopped when she heard the phone ringing in the living room. She stopped when she heard it. The radio was turned off and she could hear her mother shuffling papers around on her desk and grabbing the phone. Sharon stood stationary in the hallway as her mother's voice could be heard.

"Steven," Brenda's curt voice filtered out into the hallway. Sharon didn't understand why, but it was her father on the phone. She walked towards the doorway of her mother's room and pressed her ear up against the door. She listened to her mother's side of the conversation in disbelief.

"Two government officials are asking questions about where Sharon is? The FSA? Is this some kind of joke?" She paused, "It's no joke. Steven don't tell me to calm down. Yes, I think you're making this up." Another pause, "Tell them where she is then, and the day that I believe this story will be the day that these two men knock on my front door."

Sharon didn't hear anything else; she grabbed her backpack and ran towards the front door. She didn't want to be in the apartment when her mother got off the phone. As she ran through the living room, she was grateful for the carpet, which concealed her footsteps. She had a feeling that she would be next to be yelled at by her mother, and instead of waiting around for the inevitable, she wanted to be gone. She opened the door, stepped out into the outer hallway, and closed it gently behind her so her mother wouldn't hear. She felt like a thief as she left, but she wanted to make sure that no one saw her leaving. Once she stepped outside and made her way across the street towards the park, she took off running as fast as she could in the direction of the school.

As she crossed the street and could see the building where Paul and Scott lived, she suddenly stopped. Strange that these government guys would be asking questions about her after what happened in San Diego. She sighed deeply, suddenly shivering from the cool breeze. She was afraid that there was a connection to the two friends she had and what her father had told her mother. Instead of going to school, she paused as she reached the group of buildings. Rather than heading towards the school, she ran towards the building as fast as she could.

o O o

"Sharon!" Brenda yelled once she hung up the phone. She crawled out of bed and walked down the hall. Her voice resonated throughout the apartment as she continued to call her daughter's name. She sighed frustrated when there came no answer. She made her way towards her daughter's room, but when she opened the door, she sighed deeply. Sharon was gone. A small silver key was laying on the bed and the closet door was opened.

She approached the bed and picked up the key. She immediately recognized it as the key to her daughter's diary and rather than thinking about the privacy of her daughter, she walked over to the desk and started rummaging through the drawers. When she didn't find the diary, she closed the drawers and walked towards the nightstand.

She opened the drawer under the nightstand, but when her eyes fell on the book, she pulled it out. Fumbling with the key, she managed to stick it inside the lock of the white book. She turned the key and opened the small book. Her daughter's script was easy to read, and she was able to see for the first time the pain that her daughter had been experiencing throughout the entire battle with her ex-husband. The first entry, she recognized as dated on the day her lawyer had contacted Steven about who would have custody of Sharon.

Page after page of her daughter's innermost feelings were written there, and as she read, she relived the emotional pain Sharon had suffered during the entire custody battle. Finally, she reached the page where Sharon had learned that she would have to move to Franklin.

Brenda's face paled as she read about her daughter's frustrations. She read about Sharon's impressions of living there, about her room, and finally her anger at her parents for not listening to her and understanding what it was she wanted. She wiped a stray tear from her eyes as she read that Sharon viewed her as selfish, and uncompromising. "I'm afraid to tell my mother anything, because I know she'd try to make me into one of her patients, and not her daughter. I feel like she blames me for everything that happens," the entry said, and tears began to stream down Brenda's cheeks. She eventually grabbed a tissue from her robe pocket and blew her nose.

Throughout the morning, she continued to read the diary until she reached the entry of the day when Sharon had come to live with her. As she read the final entries, she became frightened as she discovered what happened the night before Sharon left San Diego. As she read, she began to wonder how it was that her daughter had not mentioned it to her.

She read about the blue light Sharon had seen, her broken ankle, and finally about the boy she had met at the planetarium on Saturday afternoon. Before she reached the last page, she read about her daughter's impression of her new life.

Tears continued to stream down her cheeks as she realized that her daughter had said and done all those things to prevent her from getting hurt. She sighed deeply and when she finally reached the entry for the day before, there was only one word written, and some drawings of stars and planets. Neatly etched in her daughter's balloon letters was the name 'Paul'. The rest of the page was blank.

Who was Paul, she wondered. Was this the person she had seen when she came home late the night before? She turned the page, hoping that there would be some sort of explanation, but the following page was blank. She closed the diary, and stood up. At that moment, she heard the doorbell, and she made her way down the hallway. She looked at the clock in the living room when she realized that it had been two hours since Steven's call.

Tying her robe closed, she opened the door.

"Mrs. Peters?" Two men stood on the opposite side of the door, in suits, the shorter of them spoke.

"Yes?" Brenda answered.

"I'm George Fox and this is my associate, Agent Wylie, FSA. We're here to talk to your daughter." The man said.

Brenda's eyes widened as she remembered the diary entry. She stood frozen in the doorway unable to say a word. After some seconds passed, she found her voice, "won't you come in?"

Fox walked inside the apartment, and pulled out his identification and showed it to her. "We're sorry to disturb you, but we need to talk to Sharon Peters. Is she here?"

"No, she's supposed to be in school. She left this morning before I got up. I wasn't feeling so well, and had to cancel all my appointments for today." She offered. "That's why I'm still in my bathrobe. I wasn't expecting guests."

"She attends Franklin High School, correct?" Once she nodded, Fox looked at his assistant, "Wylie, let's get to the school."

"Wait a minute, what do you want with my daughter?" Brenda asked.

"We'd like to ask her a few questions about something that happened the other night." Fox said. "I assure you it's general procedure with witnesses."

"Witnesses? Witnesses of what?" Brenda asked.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot disclose that information," Fox answered.

"Then I can be led to assume that some story about her seeing blue lights, and some incident on the beach the other night wasn't made up then, it was real." Brenda said. "Then my ex-husband hasn't been making up wild stories. You were really at his beach house, and he was telling the truth when he called this morning."

"Did Sharon tell you anything about the incident that took place Friday night?" Wylie asked. "Mr. Peters said he didn't know anything about it," he added.

"No," she answered, immediately feeling ashamed for having read her daughter's diary, "but I do know about it."

"Mrs. Peters, have you seen these two people recently?" Fox asked as Wylie handed her two photos. "The father is Paul Forrester and the boy is his son, Scott Hayden."

Paul, the picture from the diary flashed across her mind. Brenda sat down on the couch and looked up at the men. "No, I haven't seen them, but my daughter has the name Paul written in her diary."

"Is the entry dated?" Fox asked as she handed the pictures back to Wylie.

"No, but I think it's from yesterday. She came home late from school and it was the last entry in the book." Brenda said softly.

"Thank you Mrs. Peters, we won't take any more of your time. Wylie, let's get to the school," They were out the door before Brenda Peters could say another word.

o O o

Sharon ran up the stairs, which would lead to Paul and Scott's apartment. She knew that it didn't take a rocket scientist to determine that Paul and Scott were in danger and that she would have tell them about her father's phone call before the federal agents showed up in Franklin. She had a feeling that she would eventually have to talk to them, but she wanted Paul and Scott to be safely away before that happened.

She didn't stop until she was standing in front of their door, breathing heavily. Her heart was racing and she rested her hand over her chest trying to catch her breath. Her other hand rested against the doorframe, as her breathing slowly returned to normal. "Paul, please be at home," she whispered to the stillness as she rang the doorbell.

She waited a couple of minutes, and tried again. When no one answered, she shrugged her shoulders and bega