A Note from the Author
When I was in seventh grade, my English teacher gave our class an assignment to write a story involving a character from mythology.
I wrote one called The Hole in Time.
It was inspired by the movies I loved, the people I knew, the questions that filled my imagination, and the town I had just moved to.
I grew up in a diverse family and in the suburbs outside Flint, where diversity was simply part of everyday life. My playgrounds looked like my family gatherings, children from different backgrounds playing together without giving it much thought. Moving to Byron was a culture shock. For the first time, I found myself in a place where the color of a person’s skin could determine how they were treated. As a thirteen-year-old, I didn’t have the words to explain what I was seeing, but I knew it was wrong.
The events in this story weren’t born from headlines or history books. They grew out of things I witnessed as a boy, friends who were targeted because of the color of their skin, adults who looked the other way, and the realization that doing the right thing often meant standing alone. I couldn’t fix those things at thirteen, but I could write a story in which someone tried.
This isn’t an indictment of a town. Every place has its virtues and its scars. Byron had both. I met some wonderful people there, people whose kindness I still remember. But I also encountered prejudices that had been handed down through generations, and as a thirteen-year-old I struggled to understand how something so wrong could become so ordinary.
In many ways, this story became my answer to a world I didn’t yet understand. It carried my hurt and confusion, my anger and fear, but also my stubborn belief that one act of courage could inspire another.
To my surprise and delight, the story was selected for publication in a student magazine, becoming the first piece of fiction I ever saw in print.
Years passed. The magazine disappeared. The manuscript was lost to time and circumstance.
For decades, I thought the story was gone forever.
Then, while talking about my writing journey, pieces of it began returning to me. A bridge over the Shiawassee River. A bright light. A barber who hated long hair. A brave boy who stood alone when no one else would. A girl named Beth. A meeting with Hades. A hospital room. And an ending that left the reader wondering.
What follows is not a word-for-word copy of the story I wrote at thirteen.
It is something different.
It is the story I remember.
In reconstructing it, I have tried to remain faithful not only to the events I remembered, but to the imagination of the boy who first dreamed them.
If you find moments that feel wonderfully earnest, overly dramatic, or filled with impossible hope, leave them just as they are.
That’s how thirteen-year-old me believed the world worked.
And, if I’m honest, part of me still hopes he was right.
This isn’t the story I wrote in seventh grade. That story is gone. This is the story I remember writing—and perhaps, in some ways, the story I was trying to write all along.
Chapter One
The Bridge
Tom Harrison shoved his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket as he started across the bridge over the Shiawassee River. It was cold enough to see his breath, but not cold enough to stop him from taking the long way to school.
He always liked walking across the bridge.
Sometimes he leaned over the railing and watched the water moving underneath. Other times he looked for turtles or ducks. This morning he just kept walking. First hour was math, and if he hurried, he might make it before the second bell.
His backpack bounced against his shoulder with every step.
Tom wasn’t thinking about homework or school.
He was thinking about music.
His favorite band had a new album coming out, and he’d been trying to convince his mom that one more cassette wasn’t going to bankrupt the family.
She didn’t agree.
She also didn’t agree with his hair.
It hung down over the back of his jean jacket in soft brown feathers. He spent more time getting it to look right than he’d ever admit to anyone. The silver stud in his left ear had started plenty of arguments too.
His grandfather said boys weren’t supposed to wear earrings.
Tom always answered the same way.
“It’s only in the left ear.”
His grandfather would shake his head.
“Doesn’t make a bit of difference to me.”
Tom thought it made all the difference in the world.
He smiled to himself as he reached the middle of the bridge.
That’s when he saw it.
At first he thought it was a car.
A bright light appeared at the far end of the bridge.
Too bright.
Much brighter than headlights should have been.
He stopped walking and squinted.
The light grew larger.
Brighter.
It swallowed the bridge.
Tom threw his arm over his face.
Everything disappeared.
***
The next thing he remembered was lying on the ground.
His head hurt.
For a few seconds he couldn’t remember where he was.
He blinked several times before sitting up.
The bridge.
He was still on the bridge.
The river flowed beneath him just like always.
Nothing looked different.
He rubbed the back of his head.
“That was weird.”
Maybe lightning.
Maybe he had slipped.
Maybe…
He looked around.
There wasn’t another person anywhere.
Tom picked up his backpack and dusted off his jeans.
If he hurried, he could still make first hour.
He took off running.
By the time he reached the school parking lot, he was breathing hard.
Something caught his eye.
The cars.
Most of them looked old.
Really old.
One looked like it belonged in a movie.
Another had giant round fenders and shiny chrome bumpers.
A pickup truck rumbled past him with a split windshield.
Tom stopped.
“What kind of car show…”
He looked around.
“…is going on?”
Nobody answered.
Kids hurried past him toward the school.
One boy stopped and stared.
Another whispered something to his friend.
Then they both laughed.
Tom frowned.
“What are they looking at?”
He glanced down at his clothes.
Blue jeans.
Jean jacket.
High-top sneakers.
Everything looked normal.
Didn’t it?
He shrugged and headed inside.
He’d worry about the strange cars later.
Right now he just didn’t want to be late for math.
He pushed open the classroom door.
The room instantly became quiet.
Every head turned toward him.
The teacher at the blackboard slowly lowered her piece of chalk.
Tom looked around the room.
Then frowned.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“Where’s Miss Morgan?”
The teacher blinked.
A smile slowly crossed her face.
“Miss Morgan?”
“Yeah… my math teacher.”
The class burst into laughter.
The teacher held up her hand.
“Now, now.”
She looked toward the third row.
“Beth, I believe someone is looking for you.”
Tom turned.
A girl about his age looked up from her desk.
She smiled.
And for just a second…
Tom forgot every question he was about to ask.
Chapter Two
First Hour
Tom stood in the doorway staring at the girl.
She couldn’t have been much older than he was.
Brown hair.
Blue sweater.
Books stacked neatly on her desk.
She smiled politely, but looked just as confused as everyone else.
The teacher cleared her throat.
“Young man, are you planning to stand there all morning?”
The class laughed.
Tom felt his face get warm.
“No, ma’am.”
“There are two empty seats. Pick one.”
He slipped into the desk beside the girl.
As soon as he sat down, she whispered,
“Who’s Miss Morgan?”
Tom looked at her.
“What?”
“You asked where Miss Morgan was.”
“My math teacher.”
She frowned.
“I’ve never heard of a Miss Morgan.”
Tom laughed.
“Very funny.”
“I’m serious.”
Before he could answer, the teacher slapped a ruler against the edge of her desk.
“Class.”
Everyone became quiet.
“My name is Mrs. Abernathy.”
She wrote it across the chalkboard in neat white letters.
Tom stared at the writing.
He didn’t remember ever having a Mrs. Abernathy.
Maybe she was a substitute.
That had to be it.
***
The lesson started.
Fractions.
Easy.
Tom already knew everything she was teaching.
That wasn’t unusual.
What was unusual was how everybody was writing.
No calculators.
No mechanical pencils.
Almost everyone was using wooden pencils.
Even their notebooks looked old.
When Tom reached into his backpack for a pencil, several kids turned around again.
One boy pointed.
Another snickered.
The girl beside him looked embarrassed.
“What?” Tom whispered.
She leaned closer.
“I think…”
She hesitated.
“…they’re looking at your hair.”
“My hair?”
She nodded.
“It sure is long.”
Tom almost laughed.
“Not really.”
She looked honestly surprised.
“My, uh, brother’s hair barely covers his ears.”
Tom reached up and touched the back of his neck.
His hair brushed his collar.
It had never seemed long before.
Then her eyes moved upward.
She noticed the silver stud in his left ear.
Her eyebrows rose.
“You have your ears pierced?”
“Just one.”
She looked completely puzzled.
“Why?”
Tom grinned.
“Because it’s the left ear.”
She blinked.
“The… left ear?”
He waited.
She kept staring.
Finally she shrugged.
“I don’t understand.”
Tom laughed.
“You wouldn’t.”
He didn’t know why she wouldn’t.
He just knew she didn’t.
***
When the bell rang, everybody stood.
Not one person rushed for the door.
They waited.
Mrs. Abernathy dismissed them one row at a time.
Tom looked around.
“What are they doing?”
Beth smiled.
“Waiting.”
“I can see that.”
She laughed.
“You’re funny.”
“No…”
Tom whispered.
“This school and everything about this day is.”
***
Outside, Tom finally caught up with her.
“Hey.”
She turned around.
“Yeah?”
“What’s your name?”
“Beth.”
“Just Beth?”
She smiled.
“Beth Morgan.”
Tom stopped walking.
Morgan.
His stomach dropped.
“No…”
Beth tilted her head.
“What?”
He forced a smile.
“Nothing.”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I just…”
He looked at her for a long moment.
“…thought you reminded me of somebody.”
She smiled.
“I’ve never met you before.”
Tom wasn’t so sure.
***
As they walked through the hallway together, a group of boys standing near the lockers watched them.
One elbowed another.
“Hey!”
Tom turned.
The tallest boy smirked.
“Something ain’t right about you”
He looked Tom up and down.
“You one of them funny boys?”
His friends laughed.
Tom frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
The boy pointed.
“Your hair.”
Another pointed toward Tom’s ear.
“And your earring.”
One of them laughed loud enough for everyone to hear.
“My sister wears earrings too.”
Another added,
“Maybe he wants to be a girl.”
The whole group burst out laughing.
“You know what we do to boys who want to be girls around here?” Their leader said.
Tom rolled his eyes.
“You guys are weird.”
The boys stopped laughing.
“You are the weird one!” his buddy spat while twirling around like a girl dancing.
“We take sissy boys like you out behind the bleachers and pound the sissy out of them!” His other buddy added.
Tom looked at Beth.
She looked embarrassed.
“You should probably just ignore them.”
Tom shrugged.
“I’ve been ignoring people like that for years.”
Beth looked at him curiously.
“For years?”
Tom nodded.
“Trust me.”
He smiled.
“I’m used to it.”
“Still,” she said, “that’s the Duke Hargrove and his gang best ignore them and stay away.”
Chapter Three
Main Street
The bell rang for lunch, and the students poured out of the school.
Beth caught up with Tom before he reached the front steps.
“You walk home for lunch?” she asked.
Tom shrugged.
“Sometimes.”
“My, uh, family owns the hardware store downtown. We can walk together if you want.”
Tom smiled noticing the way she hesitated at saying family.
“Sure.”
They started down the sidewalk toward Main Street.
For a while neither of them said much.
Tom couldn’t stop looking around.
The town looked like Byron.
It was the same streets.
The same river.
The same little stores.
But everything looked…
Old fashioned, in extremely good shape for its age, but old fashioned.
The gas station had two men in matching uniforms pumping gas for customers.
The gas pumps were different
There wasn’t a single plastic sign anywhere.
Every advertisement seemed to be painted directly onto brick walls.
Even the Coca-Cola sign hanging outside the drugstore looked like it belonged in one of his grandfather’s old magazines.
Tom stopped walking.
“This is really weird.”
Beth looked back.
“What is?”
“The whole town.”
She laughed.
“It’s just Byron.”
“Yeah…”
Tom said quietly.
“…I know.”
***
They crossed the street.
A shiny black car rolled slowly past them.
Tom whistled.
“I’ve only seen cars like that in old movies.”
Beth frowned.
“What movie?”
Tom opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
He couldn’t think of one.
Not because he didn’t know any.
Because he usually caught them on the UHF on Saturday morning after cartoons and well past the beginning but interesting enough to stick with them until the end.
***
They reached the middle of the one block town.
An old man tipped his hat as Beth walked by.
“Afternoon, Miss Morgan.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Jenkins.”
Tom watched him disappear into the barber shop.
“Does everybody here wear hats.”
Beth looked at him.
“Of course.”
Tom shook his head.
“Not when I come from.”
She smiled.
“You sure say some funny things.”
***
As they walked farther down Main Street, Tom noticed a boy about his own age sweeping the sidewalk in front of a grocery store.
He recognized him immediately.
He had seen him near the school that morning.
The boy glanced up for only a second before looking back down at the broom.
Tom frowned.
“Why isn’t he in school?”
Beth looked toward the boy.
“Oh…
Samuel?”
“I guess.”
She nodded.
“He doesn’t go to school here.”
“Why not?”
Beth looked surprised that he even had to ask.
“Because he’s colored.”
Tom stared at her.
“So?” He said half question half statement.
“And it’s not nice to call him that!”
She blinked.
“So…”
She lowered her voice.
“They have their own school.”
Tom looked back at Samuel.
“That’s stupid.”
Beth’s eyes widened.
“What?”
“I said it’s stupid.”
“You think colored children should go to school with us?”
“Don’t call him ‘colored.’”
Tom let some frustration come through his voice
Beth looked confused.
“That’s what everybody calls them.”
“Well, they shouldn’t.”
“Then what do you call him?”
Tom shrugged.
“Samuel”
“He’s a kid like us.”
Tom laughed nervously, realizing he had scared Beth a little and trying to ease the atmosphere he smiled slightly and said.
“I do.”
She stared at him.
“They do where I come from.” He finally added.
Beth searched his face.
“You mean…”
She hesitated.
“…the same classrooms?”
“Yeah.”
“The same teachers?”
“Yeah.”
“The same desks?”
Tom shrugged.
“Everybody.”
Beth was silent.
She looked back toward Samuel.
Then back at Tom.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Tom didn’t answer.
For the first time all day…
He wasn’t sure about his surrounding things had shifted.
Too much.
***
A whistle echoed from across the street.
“Hey!”
Tom turned.
Three boys stood outside the soda shop.
The tallest one smiled.
It wasn’t a friendly smile.
Duke Hargrove.
“So, Beth…”
Duke called.
“You bring your girlfriend downtown?”
The other boys laughed.
Beth quietly sighed.
“Ignore him.”
Duke crossed the street with his friends.
He stopped only a few feet away.
“You know…”
he said, looking Tom up and down.
“…my daddy says long hair’s for girls.”
Tom folded his arms.
“My daddy says Jesus had long hair. You gonna call Him a girl too?”
The boys laughed nervously. Unsure how to process the reference to Duke calling Jesus a girl.
Duke stepped closer.
“The Sunday school teacher would stick a bar of soap in that mouth of yours for that maybe I should put my fist in there.”
“And that earring.”
Another pointed out.
“I bet he sits to pee too?”
Tom shook his head.
“It’s in my left ear.”
Duke frowned.
“What difference does that make?”
Tom opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
How could he explain something that really did not make sense?
“It just does.”
Duke laughed.
“Sounds like something a sissy would say.”
“I would give you a knuckle sandwich…”
“But my daddy says you don’t hit girls…”
Duke grinned.
“…unless they’re your wife and need straightening out.”
His friends joined in.
Beth tugged gently on Tom’s sleeve.
“Come on.”
“That’s right Beth take your new girlfriend away maybe she will want you unlike your parents!”
Tom saw the tears welling up in her eye, so he let her lead him away.
Behind them Duke shouted,
“You better get that haircut before somebody does it for you!”
***
They had only gone half a block when the door to the barber shop flew open.
An older man stepped outside.
White apron.
Gray hair.
Scissors in one hand.
He pointed straight at Tom.
“You!”
Tom looked behind him.
“Me?”
The barber marched toward him.
“That hair’s a disgrace.”
Tom blinked.
“What?”
“No respectable young man wears his hair like that.”
Before Tom could react, the barber grabbed him by the arm.
“Come on inside.”
“We’ll fix you right up.”
Tom jerked backward.
“Hey!”
“I don’t want a haircut!”
The barber tightened his grip.
“You don’t have much choice.”
Beth gasped.
“Mr. Wilson!”
The barber barely looked at her.
“This boy needs someone to teach him right from wrong.”
Tom twisted hard.
His jacket slipped free from the barber’s hand.
He stumbled backward.
Then ran.
Beth right behind him.
They didn’t stop until they reached the river.
Both of them breathing hard.
Beth finally laughed.
“I’ve never seen anyone run away from Mr. Wilson.”
Tom leaned against a tree trying to catch his breath.
“I’ve never had a barber chase me before.”
For the first time all day…
They both laughed.
Chapter Four
Down by the River
Tom and Beth wandered toward the Shiawassee River until the sounds of Main Street faded behind them.
The river moved slowly beneath the old bridge, sparkling in the afternoon sun. A pair of ducks drifted lazily along the bank.
Tom skipped a flat stone across the water.
It bounced three times before sinking.
Beth smiled.
“I’ve never been very good at that.”
“My grandpa taught me.”
She picked up a rock and threw it.
It landed with a loud plunk.
Tom laughed.
Hard.
“You’re right you’re not very good at that.”
Beth picked up a rock and threw it at Tom.
“Don’t tease me.” She said with a half pout, half smile look on her face.
They both laughed
For a while neither of them said anything.
Tom looked across the river.
Everything looked familiar.
The bridge.
The trees.
The old mill.
It was Byron.
But somehow…
it wasn’t.
Beth finally broke the silence.
“So where are you really from?”
Tom looked at her.
“I told you.”
“Byron.”
She smiled.
“No…
I mean before today.”
“I’ve always lived here.”
She studied him for a moment.
“You sure don’t act like it.”
Tom laughed.
“I’ve noticed.”
She sat down on the grass.
“So, tell me about your family.”
Tom shrugged and sat beside her.
“My dad works a lot.”
“My mom says he can fix just about anything.”
“I’ve got a little sister.”
“What about you?”
Beth smiled.
“My foster father owns the hardware store.”
“My foster mother teaches piano.”
“I have two foster brothers.”
“The older one thinks he knows everything.”
Tom grinned.
“I’ve got cousins like that.”
Then he took on a more serious look as he saw the look in her eyes as she talked about her foster family.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking but why are you in foster care?”
Beth looked at him.
“My mom and dad were on a road trip holiday, and I stayed home so they could celebrate their 5th anniversary.”
Her eyes were starting to tear
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.” Tom said, feeling a little guilty for causing her to cry.
“I would like to if you want to hear it?”
“Of course.” He answered.
“On their way home there was a really bad storm, and they didn’t see a stalled car and they hit it.”
She was crying more now.
Tom took her hand.
She smiled and whipped the tears away
“Any way I was staying with my dad’s cousins, they said they already had too many kids and could not afford to raise another, so I was placed in foster care. This is my third home I’ve only been here a few weeks, and Duke and his gang have tormented me ever since I arrived.
Changing the subject, she asked.
“Does your mom know where you are, is she expecting you for lunch?”
Tom’s smile faded.
“I don’t know.” He said.
Realizing he was somewhere impossible he wondered if he would ever get to go home.
He stared at the water.
“I wish I could call her.”
“Call her?”
“Yeah.”
“On the phone.”
She looked puzzled.
“There’s a payphone up by the drugstore.”
“My mom won’t be home, and we don’t have an answering…”
He stopped.
He suddenly realized he was about to describe things that didn’t exist.
Beth tilted her head.
“Answering what?”
Tom shook his head.
“Never mind.”
They sat quietly again.
A breeze rustled the leaves overhead.
Then…
Someone yelled.
“Get him!”
Another voice laughed.
Tom stood.
The shouting was coming from behind the grocery store.
Beth’s face lost its color.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
She didn’t answer.
She already knew.
Tom started walking toward the alley.
Beth hurried after him.
“Tom…”
He kept walking.
“Tom, wait.”
The voices grew louder.
“You think you’re good enough to look at us?”
A thud.
Someone cried out.
Tom rounded the corner.
Samuel lay on the ground, trying to shield his face with his arms.
Duke Hargrove stood over him.
Two boys held Samuel down while Duke shoved him back into the dirt with the toe of his boot.
Beth grabbed Tom’s arm.
“Don’t.”
Tom didn’t take his eyes off the alley.
“Why?”
“Because that’s Duke.”
“I know.”
“You don’t understand.”
She lowered her voice.
“His father owns half the town around here.”
“The sheriff won’t do anything.”
“The teachers won’t do anything.”
“Nobody ever does.”
Tom watched Duke shove Samuel again.
Samuel didn’t fight back.
He just curled tighter into a ball.
Tom quietly asked,
“Why?”
Beth looked at him.
“Why what?”
“Why doesn’t anybody stop them?”
She didn’t have an answer.
Tom slowly slipped out of her grasp.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Somebody should.”
He started walking toward the alley.
Beth stood frozen.
She wanted to stop him.
But something in his face told her she couldn’t.
Not this time.
Chapter Five
Somebody Should
Duke laughed as Samuel curled tighter against the wall.
“You goin cry?”
One of the other boys shoved Samuel with his foot.
“Maybe he’ll cry if we kick him harder.”
The three of them laughed.
Tom stepped into the alley.
“Leave him alone.”
The laughter stopped.
Duke turned slowly.
“Well…”
He grinned.
“The sissy’s back.”
Tom walked between them and Samuel.
“I said leave him alone.”
Duke folded his arms.
“Or what?”
Tom didn’t answer.
He simply held his ground.
Samuel looked up from the dirt.
His lip was bleeding.
One eye was already beginning to swell.
Beth stood at the mouth of the alley.
“Tom…”
she whispered.
“Please.”
Duke shoved Tom in the chest.
Hard.
Tom stumbled back one step.
The boys laughed.
“I thought you were goin save him.”
Tom looked at Duke.
“My daddy says you should never start a fight.”
Duke smirked.
“Mine says if somebody gets in your way…”
He shoved Tom again.
“…you knock ‘em down.”
Tom nodded slowly.
“My daddy also says…”
He settled into a stance without even thinking about it.
“…if somebody won’t stop hurting people…”
Duke frowned.
“…sometimes you have to stop them.”
The first punch came fast.
Tom stepped aside.
Duke stumbled past him.
Before Duke could turn around, Tom grabbed his arm and threw him over his hip.
Duke landed flat on his back with a loud WHUMP!
For a second…
Nobody moved.
One of Duke’s friends blinked.
“You threw Duke!”
The other boy charged.
Tom spun.
His foot snapped up just like he’d practiced a hundred times in class.
The kick caught the boy square in the stomach.
“OOF!”
He folded over and dropped to his knees, gasping for air.
The third boy yelled and rushed him.
Tom ducked.
The boy sailed right over his shoulder and crashed into a stack of wooden crates.
CRASH!
Apples rolled across the alley.
Beth covered her mouth.
She had never seen anything like it.
Neither had Samuel.
Duke scrambled to his feet, his face red with embarrassment.
The boy who had caught a kick had recovered as well. He yelled and charged Tom like he was about to sack the quarterback during the JV game.
Tom grabbed him by the ear and yanked down. The boys momentum, speed and size drove him face first into the cement, an audible CRACK could be heard as he screamed.
“You broke my nose!”
Duke took this chance to sneak behind Tom. While throwing a wide haymaker punch he shouted.
“You cheated!”
Tom could do very little to react. He let his training take over; he took the punch squarely across the cheek. Instead of fighting the blow he moved with it. Hitting the ground.
Duke cheered and looked triumphant until he saw what Tom had done.
He was rolling as soon as he hit the ground, right over his shoulder coming back up on his feet.
Tom could feel blood starting to trickle down his lip.
Tom frowned.
“Cheating? In a fight?” Tom said half mocking the idea.
Duke roared and charged again.
This time Tom caught his wrist.
Twisted.
Duke yelped.
Before he knew what had happened, he was lying in the dirt again with Tom’s knee on his chest.
Tom pointed a finger at him.
“Now…”
he said, breathing hard,
“…are you done?”
For a long moment…
Nobody spoke.
Finally Duke looked away.
Tom stood and stepped back.
He didn’t offer another punch.
He didn’t gloat.
He simply turned toward Samuel and held out his hand.
“You okay?”
Samuel looked at the hand.
Then at Tom.
Slowly…
he took it.
Tom helped him to his feet.
Samuel brushed the dirt off his shirt.
“Thanks.”
Tom smiled.
“No problem.”
Behind them, Duke climbed to his feet.
He brushed the dust from his clothes and glared at Tom.
“This isn’t over.”
Tom shrugged.
“It is for today.”
Duke pointed a finger at him.
“My daddy’s goin-hear about this.”
Tom answered without thinking.
“Good.”
Duke’s eyes narrowed.
“You’ll wish he didn’t.”
The three boys backed away.
Not because they wanted to.
Because, for the first time in their lives…
Someone had stood up to them.
Beth walked over slowly.
She looked from Tom…
to Samuel…
then back to Tom.
“I’ve never…”
She stopped.
“You’ve never what?”
“I’ve never seen anybody stand up to Duke.”
Tom looked at Samuel.
“Somebody should.”
Samuel smiled.
Chapter Six
Heroes
For a long moment, no one moved.
The alley was silent except for Samuel’s heavy breathing.
Tom brushed the dust off his jeans as though nothing unusual had happened.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.
Samuel nodded slowly.
“I think so.”
Tom smiled.
“Good.”
He started to walk away.
“Wait.”
Tom turned around.
Samuel looked at him with wide eyes.
“Why’d you do it?”
Tom frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t even know me.”
Tom looked at Samuel for a second.
Then shrugged.
“So?”
Samuel seemed almost confused by the answer.
Tom continued,
“My daddy says if somebody’s getting picked on and you can help…”
He shrugged again.
“…you help.”
Samuel looked at the ground.
“No one’s ever done that before.”
Tom didn’t know what to say.
So, he simply smiled.
“Guess today somebody finally did.”
***
Beth was still staring at him.
“I can’t believe what I just saw.”
Tom laughed.
“You make it sound like I fought a dragon.”
“You might as well have.”
“They’ve always been mean.”
“But nobody…”
She shook her head.
“…nobody ever fights back.”
Tom looked toward the end of the alley where Duke and his friends had disappeared.
“Maybe they’re not as tough as everybody thinks.”
Beth didn’t answer.
For the first time in her life…
She wondered if that might be true.
***
Samuel brushed the dirt from his shirt.
“My mama’s gone ask what happened.”
Tom grinned.
“You could tell her three ninjas attacked you.”
Samuel laughed.
“What are ninjas?”
Tom blinked.
“Oh…”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Never mind.”
Beth laughed.
“You’re always saying strange things.”
“I know.”
Tom looked up at the afternoon sky.
“I’ve noticed.”
***
The three of them started walking toward Main Street.
People looked at them as they passed.
Not because of Tom’s hair.
Because word was already spreading.
Old Mr. Jenkins stepped outside his store.
He looked at Tom.
Then at Samuel.
Then back again.
He slowly tipped his hat.
Tom smiled politely.
He wasn’t even sure why.
Across the street two women whispered to one another.
A man sitting on a bench watched Duke limp past with dirt on his clothes.
No one said a word.
But everyone noticed.
***
Beth broke the silence.
“I was wrong.”
Tom looked at her.
“About what?”
She glanced at Samuel.
Then back at Tom.
“I told you to ignore Duke.”
“You did.”
Tom shrugged.
“I just got tired of watching.”
Beth stopped walking.
“So did I.”
For a moment she looked toward Samuel.
“I just…”
She lowered her head.
“…I never thought one person could make any difference.”
Tom smiled.
“My dad says most people think that.”
“What does he say after that?”
Tom thought for a second.
“He says that’s why the world’s got so many bullies.”
Beth was quiet.
She turned toward Samuel.
“Would…”
She hesitated.
“…would you like to walk with us?”
Samuel looked surprised.
“You mean…”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“I’d like that.”
The three of them continued down Main Street together.
Some people stared.
Some frowned.
Others simply watched.
It was the first time anyone could remember seeing a white boy, a white girl, and a Black boy walking together through the center of town.
No one stopped them.
But everyone noticed.
And somewhere, though none of them could know it yet…
history noticed too.
Chapter Seven
The Long Walk Home
The afternoon passed quicker than Tom expected.
Mrs. Abernathy never mentioned the fight.
Neither did any of the other teachers.
But every time Tom looked up…
Someone was watching him.
Some smiled.
Some looked afraid.
Duke never came back to school.
***
When the last bell rang, Tom slung his backpack over one shoulder.
Beth was waiting outside.
“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me.”
Tom grinned.
“I don’t even know where I’m going.”
She laughed.
“I do.”
Together they started down the familiar road toward the river.
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky.
Long shadows stretched across the sidewalks.
For the first time all day…
everything felt peaceful.
***
“So…”
Beth said.
“You still haven’t told me where you learned to fight like that.”
Tom shrugged.
“I take lessons.”
“What kind?”
“Martial Arts.”
She laughed.
“You learned that in art class?”
“No Martial Arts like Karate Kid.”
“Does everybody where you come from know it?”
Tom smiled.
“No.”
“I got beat up plenty before I learned.”
Beth looked surprised.
“You?”
“Oh yeah.”
“When I was little.”
“What happened?”
Tom shrugged.
“My dad said I could either spend my life getting picked on…”
“…or learn how not to.”
“So, he taught you?”
“He found somebody better.”
Beth smiled.
“So now you are the karate kid?”
Tom looked away and smiled at the idea.
“No his name is Ralph”
***
They reached the bridge.
Neither of them seemed in any hurry to cross.
Beth leaned against the railing and watched the water below.
“It sure is pretty.”
Tom nodded.
“It always has been.”
She looked at him.
“You really do love this town.”
“I guess.”
“I just wish…”
He stopped.
“What?”
“I wish people were nicer to each other.”
Beth looked back toward town.
“So do I.”
***
For several minutes they simply stood there.
Watching the river.
Listening to the water.
Neither one wanted the day to end.
Finally, Beth spoke.
“I’m glad you came.”
Tom smiled.
“So am I.”
She looked down at her hands.
Then, very slowly…
she reached over.
Her fingers brushed his.
Tom felt his face grow warm.
He looked at her.
She smiled shyly.
Neither one said anything.
They simply stood there.
Holding hands.
***
“I have something for you.”
Beth reached into her sweater pocket.
She pulled out a small silver locket hanging from a thin chain.
“It was my mother’s.”
Tom looked at it.
“It’s beautiful.”
“My foster mother says I should keep it safe.”
She hesitated.
“But…”
She smiled.
“I wanted you to see it.”
Tom carefully held it in his hand.
Tiny flowers were engraved on the front.
When he opened it…
there was no picture inside.
Just an empty space.
“My mother died before I could remember her.”
Tom gently closed the locket.
“I’m sorry.”
Beth shrugged.
“I don’t remember being sad, not really.”
She looked toward the river.
“I just wonder what she was like.”
Tom handed it back.
“I think…”
He smiled.
“…she’d be proud of you.”
Beth’s eyes watered just a little.
No one had ever said that before.
***
Suddenly…
The ground trembled.
Tom frowned.
“Did you feel that?”
Beth looked around.
“Feel what?”
Another rumble.
Louder this time.
The bridge creaked beneath their feet.
Birds exploded from the trees.
Then—
CRACK!
The earth split with a sound like thunder.
A section of ground near the riverbank collapsed.
Tom stepped backward.
Too late.
The dirt beneath him gave way.
“Tom!”
Beth screamed.
He reached for her.
She grabbed his hand.
For one impossible second…
they held on.
Then the ground crumbled.
Their fingers slipped apart.
Tom fell.
Down.
Past roots.
Past rocks.
Past darkness.
Beth’s terrified scream echoed after him.
Then…
Silence.
Chapter Eight
Hades
Tom wasn’t sure how long he fell.
It felt like forever.
The darkness swallowed everything.
There was no up.
No down.
Only falling.
Then…
His feet touched solid ground.
He stumbled forward and dropped to one knee.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Tom slowly stood.
The cave around him was enormous.
Its ceiling disappeared into darkness.
Strange blue light drifted through the air like tiny stars.
A river, glowing faintly beneath the stone floor, wound through the cavern without making a sound.
Tom turned in a slow circle.
“Hello?”
Only his echo answered.
“Beth?”
Nothing.
“Anybody?”
The blue lights continued drifting through the darkness.
Then…
A voice.
Deep.
Calm.
Older than anything Tom had ever heard.
“Hello Tom.”
“Who are you?” Tom replied.
“I have been called many names.”
Tom froze.
The voice continued.
“The unseen.”
“The wealthy one.”
“The illustrious.”
“…and occasionally…”
“…monster.”
From the darkness, footsteps echoed across the stone.
One.
At.
A.
Time.
A tall figure emerged from the shadows.
He wore a dark robe trimmed in gold.
His long gray hair rested across his shoulders.
A crown of black metal sat upon his head.
In one hand he carried a tall staff carved with twisting vines and ancient symbols.
His eyes weren’t angry.
They were tired.
Very…
very tired.
Tom swallowed.
“Who are you?”
The old man smiled faintly.
“I believe your people call me…”
“Hades.”
Tom’s eyes grew wide.
“The Hades?”
“The one and only bodacious one.”
Tom took a careful step backward. Though he couldn’t help smile a little hearing a term from his own time.
“I thought…”
Hades raised an eyebrow.
“That I had horns?”
Tom blinked.
“Well…”
“…yeah.”
Hades sighed.
“I blame painters.”
Tom couldn’t help smiling.
Hades noticed.
“Good.”
“You still know how to laugh.”
“Many who arrive here have forgotten.”
Tom looked around nervously.
“Am…”
“…am I dead?”
Hades considered the question.
“For the moment…”
“…let us simply say…”
“…you are between moments.”
Tom frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
“I know.”
“You are thirteen.”
Tom folded his arms.
“I’ll be fourteen in October.”
Hades nodded seriously.
“My apologies.”
Tom wasn’t sure if Hades was joking.
He thought he might be.
He hoped so.
Hades began walking along the glowing river.
Without thinking…
Tom followed.
For several minutes neither of them spoke.
Finally, Tom broke the silence.
“Why am I here?”
Hades stopped.
He rested both hands on the top of his staff.
Then he looked directly at Tom.
“Because history is a curious thing.”
“It rarely changes because of kings.”
“It rarely changes because of armies.”
“It changes because ordinary people decide…”
“…that something is wrong.”
Tom thought about Samuel.
About Duke.
About Beth.
“I just didn’t want them hurting him.”
“I know.”
Hades smiled.
“That is precisely why you were chosen.”
Tom frowned.
“Chosen?”
“You believe you came here by accident.”
Hades gently shook his head.
“You did not.”
The old god lifted his staff.
The blue river began to glow brighter.
Its surface became smooth as glass.
Images appeared upon it.
Tom stepped closer.
He saw Main Street.
Only…
it was different.
Samuel walked through town carrying books beneath his arm.
No one stopped him.
Children of every color ran together across the schoolyard.
Beth stood on the front steps of the school smiling.
Duke watched from across the street.
He looked older now.
Older…
and alone.
Tom stared.
“What is this?”
Hades answered quietly.
“A possibility.”
Tom looked up.
“Did I do that?”
Hades slowly shook his head.
“No.”
“You reminded them they had a choice.”
He pointed toward the river.
“Courage spreads.”
“So does fear.”
“One heart teaches another.”
“One family teaches another.”
“One generation teaches the next.”
Tom watched the pictures change.
A frightened boy.
One brave decision.
Then another.
Then another.
Like ripples spreading across water.
Tom whispered,
“It keeps going.”
Hades smiled.
“It always does.”
For the first time since falling into the darkness…
Tom understood.
The fight had never been about winning.
It had been about beginning.
Behind them…
far above the cavern…
a faint voice echoed through the darkness.
“Tom…”
Beth.
She was still calling his name.
Hades closed his eyes.
“It is time.”
Tom looked up.
“Time for what?”
The old god smiled.
“To go home.”
“But what about Beth?”
Hades looked toward the distant light.
“If she remembers you…”
“…then perhaps…”
“…you never truly left.”
Chapter Nine
Home Again
The sound came first.
Beep…
“Tom come back to me”
“Beth!” he yelled reaching out his hand to grab hers.
Beep…
“That’s it Tom fight you can do it”
Tom stretched as hard as he could he was so close.
Beep…
Tom frowned.
That didn’t sound like the Underworld.
It sounded…
annoying.
He tried to open his eyes.
Everything was blurry.
Bright white lights hung above him.
The smell of rubbing alcohol filled the room.
Someone squeezed his hand.
“Tom?”
His mother’s voice.
He blinked again.
Her face slowly came into focus.
She looked tired.
Like she had been crying.
“Thomas!”
she shouted.
“He’s awake!”
A moment later his father hurried into the room.
He smiled.
Then, without saying a word, wrapped Tom in the biggest hug of his life.
Tom winced.
“Dad…”
“Sorry.”
His father laughed through watery eyes.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for two days.”
“Two days?”
His mother nodded.
“The doctor said you had a concussion.”
“You were hit by a car.”
Tom’s heart skipped.
“A car?”
His father pulled a chair closer.
“They found you unconscious near the bridge.”
Tom’s eyes drifted toward the window.
The bridge.
The bright light.
Headlights.
It hadn’t been magic.
It had been…
a car.
Hadn’t it?
***
Later that afternoon, the doctor finally let Tom go home.
Everything looked normal again.
Modern cars.
Stop signs.
Plastic signs.
Pickup trucks.
Everything is exactly the way it should be.
Tom smiled to himself.
“What a crazy dream.”
His father looked over from the driver’s seat.
“What dream?”
Tom shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Somehow…
he wasn’t ready to tell anyone.
***
Three days later…
Tom returned to school.
Walking through the front doors felt strangely familiar.
Kids hurried past him.
Lockers slammed.
Teachers called for everyone to get to class.
Everything was exactly as he remembered.
Almost.
As he stepped into math class…
he froze.
The room looked exactly like it had before.
Same desks.
Same chalkboard.
Same windows.
Only…
Miss Morgan wasn’t there.
Instead…
A different teacher stood at the front of the room.
Tom looked around.
Confused.
He raised his hand.
“Excuse me.”
The teacher smiled.
“Yes?”
“Where’s Miss Morgan?”
The class became strangely quiet.
The teacher looked puzzled.
“Miss Morgan?”
“My math teacher.”
A few students giggled.
The teacher smiled kindly.
“She’s sitting in her seat.”
“No…”
Tom whispered.
“I’m sure…”
The teacher glanced toward the third row.
“I believe you’re looking for your seat.”
Tom slowly turned.
A girl was sitting there.
Brown hair.
Blue sweater.
The same smile.
She looked up from her notebook.
For a moment…
neither of them moved.
Tom’s heart began pounding.
It couldn’t be.
Could it?
The girl smiled.
Not a big smile.
Just enough for him to recognize it.
Then…
very gently…
she tapped the empty desk beside her.
Tom slowly walked over and sat down.
Neither of them spoke.
The teacher began taking attendance.
Tom looked sideways.
The girl continued writing as though nothing unusual had happened.
Was this girl in his class before the accident and he simply forgot about her?
Or did she follow him from the past?
Tom’s breath caught.
He stared at her.
she finally looked over.
There, resting against her sweater…
was a small silver locket.
Tiny flowers engraved on the front.
Exactly like the one beside the river.
Tom looked at the locket.
Then back at her.
She simply smiled.
The bell rang.
Outside the classroom window…
a breeze stirred the leaves of the old maple tree.
For just an instant…
Tom thought he heard a familiar voice carried on the wind.
“Courage spreads.”
Then it was gone.
Tom smiled.
Maybe it had all been a dream.
Maybe it hadn’t.
Either way…
he knew one thing for certain.
The world could be changed.
Sometimes…
all it took…
was one person willing to stand beside another.
The End