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“Are you jacking with me, kid?”

      “Sorry.” Barry opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at her. “I’m a little nervous. After all, this is my first time.”

      “Oh, very funny.”

      “Has this ever happened to you before?”

      “Once,” she answered. “You must be a resistor.”

      “A what?”

      “A resistor. Someone who can’t be hypnotized or mentally controlled.” Barry saw a concerned look cross her face. “What’s your name?”

      “Barry McElroy.”

      “And what were you doing out here? Alone?”

      Barry didn’t like being interrogated. “I was doing some research at the Texas Wesleyan University library for a paper I have to write. I’m trying to get a scholarship.”

      “You don’t look old enough to go to college.”

      “I’m not, but because of my IQ and since I’m a dual-credit student, I can attend college next fall as a freshman.”

      “Where are your books? Your notes?”

      “They’re in my backpack. I had to ditch it when I ran into those guys. Which reminds me, thanks for saving my life. Bet you don’t get that very often, either.”

      She smiled. “You’d be surprised. Where do you live?”

      “An apartment on Lancaster. It isn’t far from here.”

      “I’ll take you home.” She moved toward him.

      “Wait. What do we do about . . . you know?”

      “It looks like I’ll have to trust you.”

      Barry didn’t know what to think. “You mean it?”

      “I can’t make you forget and I don’t make a habit of killing the people I save. But so help me if I hear so much as a whisper about tonight—”

      “You won’t. I swear,” Barry promised.

      “Let’s get going.”

      “What about my books?”

      “I’ll find your backpack. It shouldn’t be too hard to track down, especially with your teenage hygiene.”

      “You can do that?”

      “Kid, I can do a lot of things.”

      “Wait a minute.”

      “What now?” she asked impatiently.

      “What’s your name?”

      “You don’t need to know.”

      “Will I ever see you again?”

      “For your sake, I hope not. Now be quiet. I don’t want our fan club down there looking up,” she said, referring to the other police cars that had arrived, along with a television news crew. Barry’s heroine grabbed him underneath his arms and they flew into the night sky, leaving the confusion on the ground behind them.

      Chapter 2

      “I work hard all day to keep a roof over your head. The least you can do is be on time for dinner.”

      “But Mom—”

      “Don’t ‘Mom’ me!” scolded Barry’s mother as she took a seat in the waiting room. “Then you get into another fight. I warned you about that.”

      “But I wasn’t fighting.”

      “Just look at you, covered in mud and that cut on your arm. No telling how much this is going to cost me.”

      “It’s a free clinic, Mom. They call it a free clinic for a reason.”

      They sat in the waiting room for two hours. He used a dishtowel to cover the gash on his arm. The wound wasn’t bleeding, but his mom wasn’t taking any chances.

      Barry knew he was lucky to be alive, but even luckier to have met her. The trip through the night sky only took five minutes. Landing out of everyone’s sight, the mysterious woman told him to keep his bedroom window open so she could return his backpack. Before any more questions could be asked, she was gone.

      “Barry McElroy,” called out a doctor wearing a white coat.

      Both mother and son stood up and followed the doctor down the hallway to a smaller exam room.

      “Have a seat,” he motioned to the examining table. His mother took a seat next to it.

      “It says here you tripped and fell?”

      “He got into a fight,” his mother insisted.

      “Mom!”

      “Let him speak, Mrs. McElroy.”

      “Thank you. I was researching a term paper at the library and lost track of the time. I was running home and slipped in the mud. Guess there was a broken bottle or something that cut me.” Barry had rehearsed the lie enough to make it believable.

      “Let me have a look.”

      Barry removed the dishtowel and extended his arm to the doctor.

      “That’s a nasty cut. Going to need some stitches.”

      “Stitches?” Barry didn’t like needles. “Can’t you just bandage it up or something?”

      “Don’t be a baby, Barry,” his mother insisted. “If you need stitches, you get stitches.”

      “I’ll have the nurse practitioner come in and take care of it.”

      “How much is this going to cost?” asked Mrs. McElroy.

      “It’s a free clinic,” the doctor reassured her. “But we do accept donations.”

      “What about volunteer work?”

      “We’re always looking for help,” replied the doctor.

      “Good. I’ll have Barry come down here every day after school to sweep and mop the floors.”

      “Say what?” Barry whined.

      “And take out the trash.”

      The doctor laughed at Barry’s predicament. “We have people who do that, but I’m sure we can work something out. I’ll have the nurse stitch you up and you can be on your way.”

      Barry was unprepared when the doctor left the examining room. “Mom, I don’t have time; I’m working on a research paper.”

      “A few days of volunteering won’t kill you and you’ll make the time.”

      His argument was cut short when a familiar woman wearing blue hospital scrubs walked in on them. Barry did a double take.

      “I understand someone needs some stitches,” she said.

      “It’s you!”

      “What are you doing here?” the nurse’s harsh voice echoed in the room.

      “Do you know this woman?” asked Barry’s mom.

      Barry could see the puzzled expression on his mother’s face and looked for a way out. “No! I mean . . . uh . . . well . . .”

      “What are you doing here?” repeated Barry’s savior.

      “Young lady, how do you know my son?”

      “Mom, it’s complicated.”

      “I was talking to her,” his mom corrected him.

      “Like he said,” the nurse replied. “It’s complicated.”

      “Well, I’m his

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