Justin Davis

by Howard Resnick

Genres: Fantasy action & adventure; Coming of Age; Religious & Inspirational

Synopsis

What if an ancient Sanskrit text holds the key to solving today’s deepest problems? That’s the question Justin Davis is faced with as he embarks on a hero’s journey to save the world in this thrilling spiritual fantasy.

Justin Davis is a brilliant but greatly troubled West Virginia teen, struggling with his father’s brutal murder and his once wealthy family’s loss of money, status, dignity, and hope. Broken, angry, and bitter, Justin has all but given up on life. But then, on his fifteenth birthday, his mother presents him with a mysterious gift: a copy of The First Avatara, a lush, beautifully illustrated book relating the immemorial legend of Krsna. When evil Asura forces attacked the idyllic planet of Bhu-loka and threatened to enslave its inhabitants, Krsna, the first Avatara, descended to that world in its darkest hour and fought to save its people and preserve its way of life.

Enthralled by the tale, Justin enters the story as much more than just a reader, and is challenged to undertake a hero’s journey of his own, not just through time, but also into the depths of his own soul. In the process, he will experience love, loss, courage, and sacrifice that compel him to cast aside a life of self-pity and indulgence, and heroically confront a startling evil that threatens his family, and the world.

Release date: November 14, 2023

Publisher: Mandala Publishing

Print pages: 400

Sample

CHAPTER 1

Dressed in black, Justin Davis sat alone in a far corner of the bitter cold high school yard. Another bad day. Wet fog stuck to the hills like a
shivering disease. After his father was murdered and Justin rejected the world, old friends used to come out and urge him to come in. But he wasn’t ready. They stopped coming. Better for everyone. Plato was right. This world is a dark cave full of shadows. Why cry over shadows? Plato’s only mistake was to imagine a sunny world outside the cave. Obviously, Plato never saw Tucker County, West Virginia. Justin chewed a sandwich without tasting it. Then he broke his own rule and glanced at the noisy cafeteria where everybody else ate.

Justin cursed his life, and cursed it again as a pickle slice fell out of his sandwich. Then Sherri Bunton herself—former girlfriend Sherri—walked up and asked to speak to him. What did she want? He knew she despised him.

Sherri sighed, gathering her courage. For what? With a shake of those golden curls, she cast him a plaintive glance that only angered him, as most things did. She must really need something. He looked at the mask of her face. Okay, girl, tell me that Billy is about to demolish your darling Ben.

“I hate to bother you, Justin,” she began, “but I’m so scared. That new guy, Billy Skinner, is going to kill Ben, and no one but you is tough enough to stand up to Billy.”

Justin nodded, looked away, and tapped his foot to the beat of his shamefully outdated iPod.

“Are you listening to me?” she demanded, as if she still had any rights with him.

He pushed his long, blond hair out of his eyes and shot her an angry glance. Sherri huffed, then took a deep breath and counted to five, as mandated by her therapist. So, she still did that.

Back in control, she forced a smile and tried again. “Justin, I know you hate me, though I don’t know why. I always wanted to be friends.”

The day they broke up, she had said, “Justin, you’re really cute and all that, but you’re just a dead end. You’re a loser. You know I was there for you when...the tragedy occurred. But you won’t let go of the past. I have to move on. I want to be somebody. Ben is going 

places and so am I. But you don’t even want a career. You are going nowhere.”

She actually said that then. And now…

“Justin, listen to me. I need your help. We’re all afraid of Billy. His father’s the county judge and always protects him…”

“Yes, I know that.” He refused to look at her.

“…and Billy’s bigger and tougher than the other guys, and he’s bullying Ben and putting his hands on me. Did you hear that? He says he’ll do worse if we tell anyone. No one can beat you in a fight.”

“Call 911,” Justin said, nodding to his music.

“Justin, listen to me! They say he raped a girl in Hardy County, and shot a boy in Parsons, and his dad got him off.”

“Well, he hasn’t shot Ben yet and he hasn’t raped you, so there’s nothing I can do. Is that all?”

Outraged, Sherri gasped. “Justin, don’t be a monster!”

He stood up to leave. Her face turned from red rage to white fear. She grabbed his arm. He yanked it away. She burst into tears.

“Look,” she cried, “I’m sorry for what happened. I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am. But you pushed me away, like you pushed everyone away. You know you did. You’re the only one that can stop Billy. Please!”

She was getting to him. He had to end it.

“All right,” he said. “Tell Billy I said to leave you and Ben and everyone else on earth alone.”

“I already told him you said that.”

“What?”

“I had to. But Billy just spit and called you names I won’t repeat. I told him how tough you are and he swore at me and almost hit me. He’s going to hurt us, Justin. Only you can stop him.”

Justin shook his head. “So, I fight him and his father throws me in jail. Sure, I’ll ruin my life for you. Any day. You can go now.”

Tears streamed down Sherri’s face.

“I don’t fight anymore,” Justin said.

“But you always fought for justice,” she sobbed.

“There is no justice in this world. Didn’t you notice? Look, I’ll give it to you straight: I don’t care what Billy does to Ben. And I don’t care what he does to you.”

Justin Davis turned up his music, hurled his unfinished lunch into a trash can, and walked away. After a minute, he turned around. Sherri was gone. Good.

Then Justin saw him, big Billy Skinner, shuffling toward the cafeteria with two friends. Billy always went in late and walked to the front of the line. Now, he spoke to his friends and they laughed. Billy seemed to have a plan. He and his buddies sauntered into the cafeteria.

A minute later, one of Billy’s fast-talking friends led cafeteria monitor Ms. Bloony out into the yard. Smiling and busily chatting, he pointed out something

she had to see. Now there was no teacher inside to see what Billy would do. Justin sighed, shook his head, cursed himself for being so sentimental, and trudged into the cafeteria. People got out of his way. He leaned against a pillar, nodded to the beat of his music, and watched.

CHAPTER 2

Billy and his friend Jaws, who had a large, square jaw, pushed their way through the food line till they stood behind tall, thin Ben Stecker, Sherri’s current gentleman, who fearfully loaded up his tray. Still nodding to his music, Justin pushed his hair out of his eyes.

Billy smiled at Jaws, said, “Hey, don’t push me,” and lunged into Ben, who almost lost his tray.

Sweating and shaking, looking desperately for the strangely absent Ms. Bloony, Ben bowed his lanky frame and apologized, trying to placate his tormentor.

Sherri ran to Justin, grabbed his arm, and pleaded, “Can’t you do something?”

He pulled his arm away. “Call a teacher.”

“If I do that, Billy will kill me. Can’t you do something? I’ll do anything for you.”

Justin yawned, opened and closed his fists, stretched his fingers. “If Billy attacks, I’ll deal with it.”

Jaws noticed Justin glaring at him and his square jaw dropped. He whispered to Billy, pointed at Justin, and shook his head.

Billy scowled at him and said, for everyone in the hushed hall to hear, “You mean little Justin
Davis? That little girl with the long hair?”

Jaws did not reply to this apparently rhetorical question. Justin was short for his age, and his hair did go below his shoulders. By now, Ben was exiting the food line with a full tray, hoping to escape to a far table. That was not to be. Billy pretended to trip and smashed into Ben.

Ben’s tray went crashing down, with Ben close behind. His thin, chalky, cologned face splashed into his bean soup. He moaned, turned his head, and plunged his styled hair into the spaghetti. Feigning a stumble over Ben’s prostrate body, Billy kicked him viciously in the gut with a steel-toe boot.

Ben writhed on the floor. Girls screamed. Boys kept a distance. Some ran to find Ms. Bloony. Sherri rushed to Ben and wiped food off his dazed, terrified face. Billy glared at her and she flinched.

Justin wrapped up his old iPod and placed it in his coat pocket. He had seen enough. He ambled over to Billy.

Billy clenched his fists. “Don’t mess with me. I’ll destroy you.”

The cafeteria fell dead silent. Breathless students watched at a safe distance. Justin stared at Billy and said, “I want you to apologize to Ben, and then I want you to pick up this food. Now.”

Looking down at Justin,

two years his junior and half his size, Billy cursed him and shoved him hard in the chest, knocking him back several feet. Excellent. Billy struck first.

Justin strolled back up to Billy and said, “I told you—apologize to Ben and pick up the food, you ignorant sociopath.”

Billy swung his big fist. Justin let the punch graze his cheek. Perfect. Facial contact. Now it was all self-defense.

As Billy finished his swing, Justin said, “It’s over, caveman.”

With extraordinary speed, he grabbed Billy’s shirt with both hands and with a sweep of his leg, took the bully high off his feet and smashed him onto the floor, making sure his head didn’t hit the ground. Justin didn’t want a mess. Billy gasped for air. Justin flew onto his chest and with both fists beat the bully senseless.

By then teachers and staff swarmed over Justin, pulling him off Billy and wrenching him to his feet. He felt a painful grip on both arms and heard teachers rebuking him. His captors forced him along, lifting him off his feet. Justin recalled that today was his fifteenth birthday. This must be his party.

As they dragged him to the principal’s office, students shouted all around.

“Stop Davis before he kills someone!”

“It’s not Justin’s fault. Billy started it!”

The voices stopped. He was pushed into a chair in front of Mrs. Patent, the principal’s secretary.

“Justin Davis? Again?” She rolled her heavily mascaraed eyes and tapped her long green nails.
“I thought you didn’t fight anymore. Anyway, you’ll have to wait. Principal Olsen is with someone.”

Justin heard their voices through the door. Dr. Olsen was talking to a man with a loud voice. Still racing with adrenalin, Justin caught his breath and waited. And waited. He had never waited this long. Was this meant to humble him? It would not work.

He looked around the familiar office. Wow, an elegant new touch—plastic flowers in a Double Bubble gum carton. And the old elegance of plastic cartoon rabbits, ducks, and chickens plastered on the walls and main door. And a flyer with vital news—the winner of the Elkins, West Virginia beauty pageant gets a free local train pass for the summer. Why was he trapped in this world?

His stomach churned. He heard a sound from the hall and turned to a half-open door. Sherri was frantically trying to get his attention.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Justin said, and left the office before Mrs. Patent could look up. Outside, Sherri was holding Ben and cooing away his pain.

“We have to talk, Justin,” she said. “Thanks so much for saving Ben and me. I really mean it. That idiot Billy is going to think twice before he bothers anyone in this school.”

“Whatever,” Justin replied.

Sherri looked down, looked up, looked sideways, everywhere but in his eyes. “Just one more little favor.” She held up her thumb and index finger to show how tiny the favor was. “Please don’t tell Dr. Olsen or anyone that I asked you to fight Billy. You know I’m trying to get into a good college and I can’t have it on my record. You don’t care about a career, so it won’t matter to you.”

Justin glared at her. “That’s right. I’m going nowhere, so it makes no difference for me, right?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Of course not,” he said with weary sarcasm. The Bunton family, Sherri strongly included, had always been social climbers, though there was precious little social terrain to climb in Tucker County. But they were ambitious, and had always envied the Davis family, whom they now considered beneath them. Bitterly brooding over this, Justin realized after a moment that Sherri was waving a manicured hand in his face to get his attention. Etching empathy onto her eyes and lips, she said, “I’m so, so sorry, Justin, but you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“No. Bye-bye. I’m busy.”

Seeing that Dr. Olsen was still sequestered with his heavy-talking guest, Justin took a few steps down the hall and poked his head into the nurse’s office.

Nurse Ruby scowled at him and barked, “What do you want?”

He scowled back and said, “How is that fine young man doing?”

“You mean the boy you almost killed?”

“Way to go, drama queen,” Justin muttered.

“What did you say, boy?”

“I said life is a drama keen. I am paraphrasing Shakespeare; you know, that other Bill.”

“Very cute,” Nurse Ruby said. “So much wasted intelligence.”

“At least I’ve got it to waste,” he muttered.

“What did you say?”

“I said Skinner is okay, right?”

“He’ll be all right, but no thanks to you.”

“Of course it’s thanks to me. Fighting is an art, nurse. You do medical arts and I do martial arts.”

Nurse Ruby snorted with contempt. She was a total cave-dweller. What did she know about fighting? Or anything else? She was here less than a year. She didn’t even know that he used to be normal, till his father was murdered. Did she think he liked being angry and depressed all the time? Fool.

“Do you even care about justice?” he said in a parting shot.

Another Ruby snort.

He muttered, “Cave-dweller.”

“What did you say?”

“I said brave feller, that Billy Skinner. Later, nurse. And have a great day.”

Returning to the principal’s office, he found Mrs. Patent lost in her computer screen and Dr. Olsen still talking to that man, whoever he was.

Justin fidgeted in his chair. His mind raced back to the night of the murder. Damn! When would that image stop haunting him? It forced its way into his mind. He saw his father in his favorite chair, reading a book, when the killer burst into the room and pointed his gun at Justin’s father. Justin gasped and shook.

“Are you all right?” Mrs. Patent said.

He looked up, hiding his trembling hands. “Of course I’m all right,” he said. “I just got attacked in the cafeteria, that’s all.”

Mrs. Patent gave him a motherly glance. “I thought you vegans were peaceful. Are there many fighting vegans? Don’t be offended; I’m just asking.”

He looked away till she returned to her work. Then he wiped the sweat from his forehead and reminded himself that this world was unreal, a shadow in a cave. But philosophy did not remove the searing pain in his heart.

The other man walked out of the principal’s office. He was tall and slim with thin wire glasses perched on a narrow nose. He gave Justin an unsmiling nod and left. What was that all about?

Finally summoned, Justin sat before Principal Olsen, who always said basically the same thing. The game was to guess exactly what Olsen would say.

“Justin, every test we give you shows you are a genius. You are the brightest student in this school. And the most violent. We all know about your skill in fighting.”

Hundred percent so far. Nothing new.

“We know what you and your family have been through, but life must go on. That’s what your father would have wanted. Make something of yourself! You could be a leader. All the kids would follow you, like before. Now they just fear you. You could do so much in this world. But you gave up on life.”

No surprises there. But it hurt nonetheless. I know what I’ve become, Justin thought, but I can’t change. Okay, Dr. Olsen, now do the embarrassing mother line.

“All I can say,” Dr. Olsen continued, “is that you are so lucky to have such a great mom. She’s a very fine lady. I know the life she was used to and what she’s going through now. I know how hard it is for all of you. But it will all work out someday. Anyway, you’ve heard it all before.”

“Correct, sir.”

“And about this fight today—you’ll say it was just self-defense. That’s your usual plea.”

“Yes, sir.” Justin’s stomach churned. “I have a right to defend myself. Billy struck first. In fact, he struck me twice. As we both know, according to Education Code 18A-5-1c, I have a right to attend a school free from bullying. And I have a further state right to use reasonable and proportionate force to protect myself. So I suppose you’ll refer me to the psychologist.”

Dr. Olsen looked down,

twiddled his thumbs, and said, “That’s exactly what I was going to do, though it seems that you and the school psychologist have read all the same books. I was going to do that, but we have a little problem this time.”

“What problem?” Justin asked. This was not in the script.

Dr. Olsen shook his head. “The school superintendent, Dr. Green, is visiting today. I was just speaking to him.”

“Oh. Well, so what?”

“The ‘so what’ is this—he happened to be near the cafeteria when you pounded Billy to a pulp and he saw what you did, or the result of it. Then, as I was speaking to him, Dr. Green got a call from Judge Skinner…”

“You mean Billy’s father.”

“Exactly. Superintendent Green feels that since you were a martial-arts champion, you were not in any real danger from Billy and thus did not act in self-defense, and thus did not use reasonable and proportionate force. So he suspended you from this school.”

“What? He can’t just do that.”

“Oh yes, he can. And he did. You are to empty your locker and be off school property within half an hour, or the superintendent will have the police escort you off. Dr. Green knows what you’ve been through. He showed sympathy but did not change his decision because…”

“Because he’s afraid of the judge.”

“Justin, he is seriously considering expelling you as a threat to this school. God only knows what will become of you. I wish I could do more, but I can’t.”

“This is crazy…” Justin clenched his fists. “He can’t do this to me.”

“Justin, you’re not going to fight your way out of this one. Write a humble apology to Dr. Green and ask for another chance. I know him and I think he’ll let you back in. But you must humble yourself and apologize.”

“Yeah, sure.” Justin gritted his teeth. “As far as I care, Green can go and—”

“Don’t say it, Justin. C’mon, let me help you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want to be here. Not in this school, not in this county, not on this planet. I don’t want any of it. It was nice of you to try. Thanks for everything. Say hello to Mrs. Olsen.”

Justin stomped out of the office. As he passed Mrs. Patent, she said, “Will we ever see the real Justin Davis again?”

She struck too close to home.

“What are you talking about?” he shouted. “This is who I am now.”

“No. Not really.”

“Mrs. Patent, no offense, but you’re a secretary, not a psychiatrist, okay?”

Justin didn’t wait for an answer. He stomped out, emptied his hall locker, and slammed it so hard that teachers ran out of their classrooms. He then stormed down the hall, kicking walls and cursing the world, as frightened students flew out of his path.

He marched up the mountain highway toward his humiliating home in Davis town. If only a car would hit him and end his misery.

CHAPTER 3

He tramped along, kicking stones, hardly seeing the monotonous forest’s trees on both sides. It was six miles to Thomas, two and a half more to Davis. A billboard boasted of coming county events—the Spring Bird Walk; the Woodcock Round-up. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. They could have filmed Groundhog Day here. No actors, just film the town every day.

He hadn’t always scorned Tucker County. As a child, he reveled in his life as a small-town celebrity in a town founded by and named after his family. A botanical garden, and even a college forty miles down in Elkins bore the family name. The Davis family lived in a great ancestral home, the finest in the county. Justin went with his dad to the golf-and-racquet club in Canaan Valley. Beyond Tucker County, at the university in Morgantown, Tark Davis was an academic celebrity, and Justin basked in family pride.

With all these blessings, Justin might easily have become an insufferably arrogant child. He did not, however, and for that the credit went to his parents. His mother, Star Davis, had grown up as a destitute orphan. Rather than make her a bitter or greedy adult, her past inspired in her a deep empathy for the less fortunate, and she taught this to her son.

Justin’s father, Tark Davis, though wealthy and erudite, believed that his good fortune obliged him to serve others, and he too taught these lessons to his sons. Thus, when Justin decided at an early age to study martial arts, Tark made him promise to use his skill only to protect the innocent, never out of pride. Justin Davis greatly admired his parents, and he embraced their values.

Indeed, from childhood, Justin idolized his father. He walked and talked like Tark Davis. Everywhere they went together, people smiled and said that Justin was a perfect copy of his dad. And they told his father that Justin was a handsome, brilliant child. Father and son enjoyed the same sports, admired the same natural beauty, and laughed at the same jokes.

All of Tucker County called Justin the prince, a title he relished from early childhood. His little brother, Joey, almost from infancy, adored Justin. Crawling, toddling, or walking, Joey followed Justin, as much as Justin followed his father. Thus, from Tark, to Justin, to Joey, the Davis men were a very tight team.

Tark often took his older son on trips, which always had some beneficent purpose. Star Davis had not been a healthy child, and did not like to travel much.

She was happy to stay at home on the family estate to engage her passion of writing, and look after Joey. When Star’s career prospered, Tark built her a media room on their estate where she did frequent online interviews. Justin liked to sit and listen. He was fascinated by his mother’s ability to tell delightful and meaningful stories.

At times, Tark would take his boys up in his plane and fly over the town, the high school, or Canaan Valley. If safety permitted, Tark let Justin steer the plane for a few minutes. If they had time, they sailed off through the blue to Morgantown. There they walked along the wide Monongahela River, walked on the lovely campus, visited Tark’s office, and always made their final stop at Justin’s favorite ice cream parlor. On their approach back to Davis, Tark would fly over Blackwater Falls, before landing on the private runway at his large country estate. The family had their routine. The men flew and Star wrote articles and books.

Weather permitting, the family held picnics on a favorite shaded meadow on the Davis land. Star would read from her latest writing, and the family listened eagerly. His mother was Justin’s favorite writer. “And it’s not because you’re my mother,” he always said.

Justin passed his childhood perfectly content with his life. He excelled at school, dominated regional martial arts as well as the youth social scene, and admired his parents above everyone he knew, or saw or read or heard about.

Around the age of thirteen, Justin made his first independent intellectual foray. He developed an increasing interest in movies and books about superheroes and higher worlds. Such interest, by itself, was normal. Much of humanity enjoyed such stories, and so did Justin from early childhood. But he now insisted, in talks with his parents, that he was developing a special theory to explain why so many people relished such stories.

Knowing that Justin consistently achieved genius scores on standard intelligence tests, and seeing his firm interest in this topic, his parents tried to understand exactly what he meant. Out of love and real respect for their son, his parents listened as he tried to articulate his new theory.

With parental help, Justin’s theory took shape as follows. People all over the world were powerfully drawn to stories of superheroes and higher worlds. Justin believed that the standard psychological explanations for these phenomena were not the whole truth. In his view, people were fascinated by higher powers and worlds because they actually existed within the universe. People intuitively, though unconsciously, understand this. Therefore, it was easy and natural for so many people to

suspend their disbelief when watching such movies, or reading such books.

Obviously, Justin acknowledged, Hollywood’s versions of superheroes and higher worlds were fiction, but only in the details, only on the surface. The basic premise was true. Superheroes and higher worlds really existed, and Justin wanted to find them.

Star Davis, an avid reader of Plato in her youth, contributed an idea to Justin’s theory. In his Meno, Plato presents the notion of anamnesis, the idea that we know certain things because we remember them from a past life. “I don’t know if reincarnation takes place,” Star said, “but at least Justin is in good company here. I mean, with Plato.”

“I think we understand my theory now,” Justin said.

“Fascinating,” Tark added.

“I want to explore this further,” Justin said, “but I don’t know how. Maybe I should meditate.”

“You could try that,” Star said. “And you might also read more books on the subject. It would seem that if you’re right, other souls over the centuries must have come to similar conclusions. Some of them probably wrote about it. We can look online together.” Star Davis smiled. “I used to dream of being a librarian.”

Justin effortlessly transmitted his interest in these topics to Joey, who demanded that Justin inform him of any new discovery in this area. Justin was happy to see that his entire family encouraged him in his new interest.

Soon after this, two new developments stressed the tight unity of the Davis family. The first was that Tark Davis grew in fame and popularity. His innovative programs to improve education in West Virginia gained national attention. Soon, Tark was crisscrossing the country, though not in his small plane. Around the nation, he became a most sought-after speaker at all sorts of academic and government seminars, conventions, think tanks, and more. The national press soon discovered him. A brilliant scholar and educator who served the poor, looked like a movie star, and spoke with heaps of country charm, could not fail to become a star commentator on endless national news shows. Both major political parties talked to him about running for office on their ticket.

Everyone seemed highly pleased with Tark Davis, except his own family, who complained about his frequent absence. During his short visits home, Tark asked Justin about his research in metaphysics.

Justin angrily said, “You don’t have time to hear about it. You’re always gone. You want to help everyone, but you have no time for your family.”

Startled by these words, his father promised Justin that he would spend more time at home. “I have unavoidable commitments for the next few months,” Tark said, “but after that, I promise things will be different. It will be like it was before. I promise you.”

It had been a little over a year before Justin’s suspension from Tucker County High School that Tark Davis had made this sincere promise to his son. Soon after that, a second new development stressed Davis family solidarity. Romance struck Justin in the form of his first girlfriend, lovely Sherri Bunton. His mother warned him that the Bunton family

was very ambitious, and that Sherri possessed a generous portion of that proclivity. Tark also expressed concern. But all such parental caution was in vain. Sherri was, by wide consensus, a top-tier beauty at Tucker County High School, and her family was growing prosperous by county standards, though not on the scale of the Davis family.

Family gatherings now took on a new configuration. Tark was usually absent, and Sherri was always present. Already feeling the absence of his father, Joey now complained to Justin. “You act so weird around Sherri. Why can’t you be normal?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Justin replied.

“I mean you don’t talk to me; you only talk to her.”

Justin said he would be more careful.

The time that Tark had requested of his family, time to honor previous commitments, now passed. But just when his family expected him to return home to what had been their happy life, he revealed to his wife and elder son another, more serious problem.

The Davis family had previously suffered financial reverses in the Great Recession. Justin was too young at the time to hear about it, and Joey was not yet born. Since that time, Tark and Star had been rebuilding the family fortune, slowly but surely. But very recently, indeed in the last month, an apparently coordinated series of financial attacks on the family’s investments and holdings again put them in financial difficulties.

“This is serious,” Tark explained to his worried wife and son. “I swear to you, I had every intention to stay at home and only fly into Morgantown a few times a week for classes. But I have no choice now but to keep traveling. Of course, some of the programs I can do online, but many of them, especially those that pay well, I can’t. At this point, I have to accept every paid appearance I can get. You can’t imagine how disappointed I am. You cannot have wanted me to stay home more than I wanted it. I have no desire to be a famous talking head on television, or to appear at endless banquets and conventions. But these engagements pay well, and for my family’s sake, for your sake, I have to push myself hard. I should have spent more time with you. You mean more to me than anything. I hate what’s happening. But I owe it to you.”

“Tark,” his wife said, “we don’t need to be rich. It doesn’t matter to me. Really.”

“That’s right, Dad,” Justin added. “It will be embarrassing here in Davis, but we can move to Morgantown, where we don’t have an image to keep up. I like Morgantown.”

“I appreciate both of you so much,” Tark said. “I just need a little time to get us back in a safe position, and then whatever it takes, I will stay with you,

 I promise. Morgantown may be a good idea. I’ve been gone too much. Justin, you and Joey are growing so quickly, and I want to be there for you. I don’t want to just feed and clothe you and tell you how much I love you, and then fly off again. Perhaps Wordsworth was right when he said, ‘The Child is father of the Man.’ Maybe I have to learn from you. We’ll really talk about these things. I haven’t been here for you. But I’ll make it up to you. I give you my word.”

These words both disappointed and pleased Justin. He didn’t like the delay, but his father would keep his promise. Justin now looked forwarded to intimate metaphysical discussion with both parents, since Star insisted on participating. Indeed, her interest in these topics preceded that of her husband or son. She had often escaped to other worlds, through books, in her unhappy childhood.

Justin increasingly saw what he wanted in life—basically, to become a great man in the world, for the best of reasons. He would serve humanity in some way or other (to be determined), and exalt his family even beyond their present status.

In his childhood games, Justin had fought bravely to protect the innocent, rescue fair maidens, and bring justice to Earth. In early adolescence, his dreams began to take more serious shape. He would go to one of the best colleges, and one day become, at the very least, a US senator, if not something higher. Like his father, he would fight for justice, for the innocent and the needy.

All these noble dreams ended in his fourteenth year, on a cold, dark, moonless night.

On that cold, moonless night, Justin went with his mother and Joey to see a movie down in Elkins. Tark Davis stayed home to work on a legal case. At the movie, Joey didn’t feel well, and so the family returned early. Star and Joey went upstairs, and Justin stayed in the great room with his father. His father smiled at him and returned to his legal papers. Justin took a book off the shelf and read. Occasionally, he looked out through the large picture window that faced the street. Soon after, Justin heard a burly engine that broke the still air. He looked out and saw a large SUV parking across the street, opposite the Davis estate. Justin had seen that car several times during the last week, always at night, always parked opposite the Davis mansion. He assumed the large vehicle belonged to a friend of the Wyndhams, who lived across the street.

After several minutes, Justin heard heavy footsteps coming up the steps, making the old wooden porch groan. Who could it be at this hour? Justin stood and l

ooked out the window, but the visitor was already at the door.

A large masked man pushed his way past the unlocked door and without a word, shot Justin’s father at point-blank range. The killer then turned his gun on Justin. But the boy, a martial arts champion gifted with lightning speed, had instinctively grabbed an iron poker from the fireplace. With a furious cry he smashed the killer’s gloved gun hand. The killer screamed, grabbed his gun with the other hand, and ran. As Star came screaming down the stairs and rushed to her husband, Justin pursued the killer, racing down the steps and dealing two ferocious blows to his upper back. The killer shrieked like an animal, fell into the waiting car with its masked driver and running motor, and the black SUV fled into the night.

Justin ran back to the house where his mother wailed, “He’s gone! Your father is gone!” Joey cried uncontrollably. Justin could not breathe or see anything in front of him. Neighbors began pouring into the Davis house. Soon, state police arrived from Parsons. Star Davis held her husband in her arms as if he were still alive.

As the ambulance took his father, as police investigated, as paramedics cared for his mother and brother, and as the whole town gathered outside his house, Justin sat alone, unmoving on a chair, watching the big front door swing blindly in the frigid wind. Over and over, his shocked mind vowed deadly vengeance against the killers.

The murder stunned Tucker County and most of the state. It shattered Justin’s mother. Joey was traumatized and couldn’t speak.

All of Tucker County seemed present at the funeral. A large contingent came from West Virginia University, including the president. The governor came with a contingent from the state capital in Charleston. Officials came from Washington, and around the country. Visitors filled the area hotels.

Most prominent of the mourners was Senator Hunter Clay of Virginia, a leading national politician who seemed headed for a run at the presidency. About Tark’s age, tall and imposing, the senator came with his lovely wife, Barbara. At an appropriate moment, they offered consoling words to Star Davis, who hid her grief behind a black veil. Senator Clay explained that he met Tark in Washington and was very impressed by him. He came to offer comfort to the family and to honor the memory of the departed. The pastor asked the senator to speak, but he declined, saying that he wanted to hear from family and close friends.

National, regional, and local news teams were there, remaining at a respectful distance. County and state police were out in force. Star Davis was too grief-stricken to mind Joey, and that task fell to Justin. He held Joey’s hand, but released it to shake hands with Senator and Barbara Clay when they approached him.

“If I can help in any way,” the senator said, “don’t hesitate to call me. Here’s my personal card.”

Justin took the card, thanked the senator, made a polite bow to his wife, and watched as the senator walked with his wife toward their reserved seats. Joey watched them go with a mixture of grief, confusion, and awe.

The funeral went on and on. Many people wanted to speak. Justin knew his father was widely admired, and he had always liked to hear his father praised. But he could not pay close attention now. His own feelings and thoughts overwhelmed him. He was asked if he wanted to speak. He did not. The funeral ended. Close friends accompanied the grieving family back to their home in Davis, where food was spread on tables. Justin tried to be polite. He thanked those who

offered condolences, but he could say nothing beyond that.

After the funeral, Justin sank into dark despair. He stopped cutting his hair. He dressed in black. He went deep into the woods where no one could see his anguish. And anguish flared into rage. Revenge possessed his mind. Hour after hour, relentlessly, he practiced deadly arts with daggers and guns. He steeled and strengthened body and mind into a calm killing machine.

His mother urged Justin to be noble and work for the good of others like his father, to make something of himself. “You can’t give in to anger and hopelessness,” she said. “You could do so much for this world.”

“I don’t care about the world.”

The town and county rose up in support of the Davis family, but the family’s troubles were only beginning. Within weeks of his father’s funeral, a new crisis struck the grieving Davises. Star confided to her elder son that the family finances were in grave danger. “I feel terrible to burden you with this news,” she told him, “but I fear you would not forgive me if I did not tell you. You must remember that your father spoke of an apparently coordinated series of attacks on our family investments.”

“Yes, I remember,” Justin said.

“Justin, those attacks have resumed. We are being attacked legally on many fronts. Our lawyers assure us that everything your father did was perfectly legal. But, we are being attacked with title challenges, lawsuits that attach our property, all our assets.”

“Who is attacking us?”

“That’s the problem. The aggressors are corporations registered in Delaware, which protects the anonymity of corporate directors. One corporation owns another, and the first is owned by a third, and all the corporate officers are anonymous. These corporations have armies of sophisticated lawyers.”

Star explained to her son that the loss of one asset, like a falling domino, precipitated the loss of another. In a matter of several weeks, a cascade of financial blows hopelessly tied up, or definitively wiped out, the Davis fortune, leaving the grieving family destitute.

“What about our lawyers?” Justin asked.

“They tried their best, but the enemy has unlimited resources. I can’t pay our lawyers anymore. They are good people. They’ve donated time to us. But they too are exhausted. They have to earn money for their own families. Justin, we are bankrupt.”

“What will we do?” Justin asked.

“We have to sell our house, and our land. We’ll have to live in the trailer for now.”

“I would rather die,” Justin said. ...