DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH
By TDLAmador
Chapter 1
"Okay Carl, that does it for the night. Remember, tomorrow night at six o'clock, got it?"
"Six o'clock, I'll be here, Uncle John." Carl stated as he slipped his leather jacket over his shoulders and picked up his car keys from the counter. "Listen, I know I've never said it before, but I really appreciate you teaching me this stuff."
John shut his computer down and set the pliers down on the workbench, arching his back to relieve some of the stiffness, "You listen to me, Carl. Staying here in this country town is going to get you nowhere. You need good skills that will get you ahead, and if I can pass on my computer experience to you, then it's the least I can do for my brother's son." He slapped a hand on Carl's shoulder, "I just wish your parents were here to see you graduate next week."
A silence permeated the air for a moment, both men taking a moment of respect for the dead. Carl's parents had died in a plane crash when he was eleven, a freak accident that occurred as they were coming home from a private vacation together. It wasn't until four years later that Carl had come to live with his Uncle John and Aunt Debra in New Hampshire.
Carl looked away for a moment, still unable to talk about them openly much, before continuing, "Somehow, I think the government would be a little upset if they knew you were teaching me some of the tricks of your trade, Uncle John," Carl smiled as he slipped his wallet into his back pocket. "After all, computer hacking and some of the other little tricks you've shown me could land me in a world of trouble."
Uncle John laughed and shook his head, turning off the last of the lights in the computer store before heading towards the front of the shop with his nephew, "Carl, I know you well enough that I think I can trust you to do the right thing." Looking over on the counter, John picked up what looked like a PDA with wires and a plug coming out of the side of it and took a closer look. "Hmmm, now what's this?"
Carl glanced over his shoulder and blushed, "Errr, just something I've been working on." He carefully pulled it out of his uncle's hands and slipped it into his front coat pocket. "Actually," he admitted, "it's based on some of the stuff you've been telling me about from your classified work. It's supposed to be an password scanner, you know, like one of those things that we saw on that Terminator movie we saw the other night, only faster."
"Carl," Uncle John looked at him with an upraised eyebrow, "that is exactly the type of stuff that I'm talking about that will get you into all sorts of trouble."
"Don't worry, Uncle John. It doesn't even work yet." Carl turned back towards his uncle as John locked up the shop and headed towards his car. "I can't seem to get the programming just right yet. It keeps locking just before the password is shown. I'm close to figuring it out; I know it. A little more work and it will be ready to try out."
Uncle John shook his head again and chuckled to himself, "Well, bring it in tomorrow and we'll see what we can do to get it to work. I should have expected that you'd want to try to fiddle around with something like that. The least I can do is help you to get it working properly." He pointed a finger at Carl, "But if I find out you've been using this thing . . ."
Carl raised his hands, "I promise, Uncle, I won't do anything illegal with it. You said that the government agencies are always looking for initiative in folks who want to join, this could be it for me."
John nodded and chuckled softly, "Yes, you're right. Something like that could catch their attention. Just see that you don't get into any trouble with it. You've already got a reputation around here for being a black sheep, the last thing you want to do is add fuel to that fire." Slipping into the driver's seat of his '73 Chevy Impala, John looked up at John, "Coming home?"
"A little later," Carl grinned mischievously, "I uh, have someone I have to meet."
"Uhuh," his uncle smiled knowingly, "and this someone wouldn't happen to have blonde hair that covers her shoulders, and be the one who writes you all those little love letters we keep receiving in the mail, would she?"
"Uncle John!" Carl blushed deep red, causing his uncle to laugh heartily.
"Go on, Carl," he responded, waving his nephew off, "I'm sure Melissa is waiting for you up at Inspiration Point by now. You just make sure you're home by midnight, and no funny business." John gave Carl a serious look and arched his eyebrow, "The last think you need is for Mayor Williams to be finding out that you were messing around with his daughter."
"I promise, Uncle. Midnight sharp." Carl watched as his uncle pulled the Impala out onto the street and down the road until he reached the turn off that would lead home. Carl hurried over to his beat up '67 Mustang, jumped in and fired it up. The engine roared to life, the sound echoing off the nearby buildings, and he stepped on the accelerator, taking off towards Inspiration Point.
Carl Masters hadn't had it easy in life after his folks had died. Unable to locate any relatives at the time, the state had stuck him in foster care for four years. The combination of the death of his folks and his entrance into adolescence only served to generate a feeling of detachment from his foster family, which didn't help the fact that they didn't want him to begin with. Except for the extra money that the state paid them for taking care of him, that is. Instead of caring about him, Carl felt they only wanted him around as a household slave, which he immediately refused to be. He would slip out at all hours of the night and get into trouble, vandalizing buildings and generally disturbing the peace. By the time he was fourteen, Carl had been in and out of foster homes five times, in therapy for his parents' death twice without success, and had even been placed in detention on one or two occasions. Usually, he was out on the streets more often than he was at home and had learned how to take care of himself, or so he thought. Carl had learned to depend on no one but himself, so it was difficult for him to accept when Uncle John and Aunt Debra came to the detention center he had been placed in and said they were going to take him home to live with them.
The first year with John and Debra had been a give-and-take affair with Carl seeing just how far he could push them. There were nights where Carl would steal out of the house and stake out the town, only to find when he returned that his uncle was waiting up for him. What surprised him was how patient they were with him. No matter what he did, they seemed to love him even more, which only confused him. After all, the last time he'd received such unconditional love was from his parents.
During that time, Carl spent his nights roaming the streets, getting to know the ins and outs of street life in this little town, and making connections. Before he'd come to live with his aunt and uncle, he'd learned that sometimes it wasn't what you knew, but who you knew, and Carl made it a point of getting to know everyone. If there was something that they needed, Carl could get it for them, as long as he didn't have to hurt anyone or steal anything. He became known for 'finding' things and his 'friends' respected him for it.
However, all this popularity didn't come without a price. As intelligent as he was, and as street-smart as he'd become, occasionally he would get into trouble and wind up having to have his uncle bail him out. Luckily, the police were fairly lenient in this town, so no charges were pressed, but every time he came home, he'd have to sit through a lecture from his uncle. At first, he didn't listen, simply saying the words he knew Uncle John wanted to hear, but gradually, he began to find in that they truly cared about him, and it made him uncomfortable. After all, he'd survived four years in foster care with more time on the streets than at home, what did he need with them anyway? You had to look out for yourself, 'cause you couldn't expect anyone else to be there for you, right?
Instead of punishing him, Uncle John put him to work in his computer store, having him learn how to build and repair computers, as well as assisting his uncle with software and operating system problems. Unbeknownst to Carl, his uncle watched with delight as Carl found that he loved computers, until he became proficient at putting them together, taking them apart, and working on the operating systems by himself. As a result, they found they had more time on their hands then they knew what to do with, which they filled by John asking Carl questions about various things that interested him, and listening as Carl slowly opened up. However, Carl still found that he had the desire to go out late at night at times.
Everything came to a head one night last year when Carl had returned from one of his nightly escapades. It had been weeks since he had gone out, and Uncle John had thought that perhaps Carl had finally given it up, much to his disappointment. As Carl locked the door and started to creep up the stairs to his bedroom, he heard his uncle's voice call out from the kitchen, "Hold it right there, young man."
Realizing he'd been caught, Carl came back down the stairs and walked into the kitchen where he found his uncle sitting at the dinner table staring up at him. "A little late for creeping in, isn't it?" Uncle John looked at his watch and raised his eyebrow, "Hmmm, three in the morning, I'd say you must have had an interesting night. Care to talk about it?"
"Not really, I wanted to go out, what's the big deal about that?" Carl replied flippantly, instantly regretting his reply as he saw the disappointment on his uncle's face. However, the look in his uncle's eyes changed to one that he'd seen before and it brought Carl up short. He swallowed nervously as Uncle John pointed to a seat beside him at the table. It was a rare occurrence when Uncle John had given him that look, the look that said 'Enough is enough', so he sat down obediently.
"Carl, your aunt and I have been very understanding about what you've gone through over the last four years before we came and brought you home. We also know that you had to learn to be very independent after Paul and Alyssa died. From what we heard, your time in foster care wasn't the best experience in the world. Being an only child myself, I know that you felt that you didn't have anyone to turn to, so you decided it was best to shut everyone out. However," John stated, "its about time you started realizing that you can't take on the world by yourself. Being a 'loner' is only going to result in you being without love or support when you need it later in life. I know you miss your mom and dad, even though you try not to admit it, but I can see it every time you avoid our attempts to show you how much we care for you."
Carl squirmed in his seat, and John knew he was hitting home with each word. "Now this thing about you going out at all hours of the night and coming home whenever you want has got to stop for good. I had thought that you had grown beyond that, but tonight's little adventure . . ." John sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, looking every bit of the sixty-one years that he was, "Carl, you're a part of our family now, and there are rules that you're going to have to live by. Do you understand?" John noticed how Carl had flinched at the word 'family' and smiled, realizing that Carl was actually listening, and actually cared. Although he tried to hide it, John knew that Carl had been searching for love and acceptance for months after they'd taken him in, and he felt that tonight was the night that something would happen.
As Carl nodded in answer to his question, John continued, "Good. Carl, I know I'm not your father, but I think he would be proud of you, just as I am." Carl ducked his head and looked away. "You're an intelligent young man, and I think that you have some real potential in life, if you'd only let people get to know the 'real' you. For one thing, you've shown me that you have a real knack for computers, and that's nothing to sneeze at."
As Carl looked up at him, John could see that he'd surprised him with that little revelation. Good, he thought, about time he knew that I've been paying attention. He watched as Carl fidgeted in his chair, trying not to look him in the eye as he battled with what he was hearing.
Finally, John made the decision to say the one thing that Carl had not heard from anyone since John's brother and his wife had died . . . "Carl, your aunt and I love you very much, and no matter what you do, we're always going to be here for you." John could hear Carl sniff and saw him blink as his eyes glittered in the light of the overhead light. Reaching out to rest his hand on Carl's shoulder, he repeated, "We love you, Carl."
Carl's shoulders began to shake and he wrapped his arms around his chest, shrinking in on himself a little bit. Tears dripped down his nose and fell onto the kitchen table. In a very small voice, John could hear his nephew say, "I miss them."
Standing up, John pulled Carl against his chest as Carl's tears turned to outright sobbing and for the first time, Carl let down the walls he had erected, "I know son, I know. I miss them too, but you can't run from everybody. We weren't meant to go through life alone; you need to reach out sometimes." Looking over Carl's shoulder, John saw his wife standing in the hallway looking on with tears of her own, tears of joy at the sight of Carl finally letting them into his life. Reaching out, John pulled her to him and they wrapped Carl in an embrace as he hugged them back and wept. That was the last night Carl ever went out for one of his late-night excursions. At least, not without letting them know where he was going, and not as late as he used to. Carl's situation at school, however, was a little trickier than at home.
Most people believe that urban schools are where the cliques and gangs are found, but as Carl rapidly discovered, these same groups show up even in rural areas like Riverside. At the same time that he was trying to come to terms with his aunt and uncle, he found that he had a completely different set of challenges to deal with at his new school. The biggest problem that he faced was the local football star, Matthew Haynes, who turned out to be trouble from the first day he'd arrived . . .
Matthew was the quarterback for the school's football team, and he fit the typical jock model: big, strong, fast, and the most popular guy in the entire school. To Matthew, his word was like a king's proclamation to his fellow classmates, and he took an instant disliking to Carl.
Carl had been dropped off by his uncle that day and had entered the school, trying to find the main office so he could figure out where his classes would be. The bell for the end of first hour had already sounded, releasing hundreds of students from their classrooms into the halls like a springtime flood, and Carl struggled against the surge of bodies. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts at getting someone to help him, Carl set out on his own, trying to find the office. As he rounded a row of lockers, Carl bumped into a jock whose back was turned to him.
"Hey you! Watch where you're going!" he said contemptuously, giving Carl a glare.
"Right, sorry," Carl replied absently, turning away.
A hand came down on his shoulder and spun him around, "What? You don't know how to walk or something?" the jock asked as he looked at Carl's leather jacket and smirked, "Where'd you get this thing, out of a dumpster?"
The group gathered around them giggled and laughed at Carl, who ignored them and turned away again. The jock glared and said, "I'm not through talking to you, pal." As the hand was about to latch onto his shoulder again, Carl whipped around and grabbed him by the throat, slamming him into a locker.
"I think you are . . . pal," Carl answered, his eyes narrowing as he glared menacingly at the jock. Pushing him back against the locker, Carl walked off in search of the main office again, leaving the jock to try to salvage his pride.
"Hey!"
Carl glanced back, expecting to see the jock or one of his friends coming up behind him. Instead, he found himself pleasantly surprised to see a lovely young girl approach him, a pile of books hugged to her chest. She had long blonde hair that flowed down over her shoulders like gossamer, and her eyes sparkled a brilliant emerald green color. As she drew closer, Carl noticed she only came up to his chin, maybe five foot two inches at best. The girl wore a lovely spring dress that reached her knees, white with little flowers that matched her eyes. Her petite figure was trim and slender, and when she came to a stop and lowered her books, he noticed her gentle bosom pressing against the fabric of her dress.
"You really surprised Matthew back there," she said with a grin. "It's good for him to be taken down a notch. The football team is treated like gods around here, so they think they own the place."
Smiling at her, Carl answered, "I'm not into idol worship, so I couldn't care less if they walk on water, much less are a part of the football squad. Besides, most of them will probably wind up as construction workers or laborers someday anyway."
She smiled and stuck out her hand, "Hi, I'm Melissa, Melissa Williams."
"Carl Masters," he replied as he took her hand in his and gently shook it.
As they continued down the hallway, Melissa spoke up, "You're new here, aren't you?"
"Is it that obvious, or do I have a sticker that says, 'Hi, I'm the newbie in town.' on my forehead?"
Melissa giggled, a sound that Carl found he enjoyed hearing, "Well, no sticker, but you definitely are different . . . in a good way that is."
"Glad to find it's in a 'good way' and not a bad way. Listen," he said as he stopped for a moment, looking around confused, "can you help me find the main office? I am completely lost here."
"Sure, c'mon. It's this way," she said, leading the way down the hall.
The second period bell rang, punctuated by the sounds of lockers being slammed shut and people running to get to their classes. Carl looked over at Melissa and commented, "Aren't you going to be late for class or something?"
"It's ok," she replied, "the teachers make exceptions whenever you help out folks. Besides, I'm Mr. Howell's assistant, so he's pretty lenient with me if I arrive a minute or two late. Besides," she looked over at Carl and smiled appreciatively, "you're kinda cute and I wanted to meet you."
Carl's eyes widened in surprise at her openness, "What?!? You don't even know me," he blurted out in surprise.
"Not yet, anyway," she replied with a wink, "but what's that got to do with it? Ah, here we are." Melissa opened the door and stepped into the main office. Within five minutes, thanks to her help, Carl got his schedule and Melissa showed him where to go.
Once they got to Carl's classroom, Melissa smiled and said, "I've got to go, but maybe we can hook up for lunch or something?"
"Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks."
With another wink, Melissa turned and headed off down the hallway with Carl looking after her, finding himself spellbound. Melissa looked over her shoulder, waved and turned a corner, breaking the spell on Carl enough for him to realize he was standing around looking like a fool, but somehow the thought of Melissa made it worth it.