Chapter Fourteen
Dr. Hu roused Travis from his sleep. "Come on.
I have news to share," he said smiling. Travis grumbled about it being too
early but followed him to the kitchen, where Jenny was making coffee while
Agent Anderson fried up bacon and eggs.
Once they'd eaten, Dr. Hu called their
attention. "I have news about Travis's condition."
Travis swallowed the lump in his throat,
trying not to let his nerves get the better of him.
"My colleagues and I have been analyzing your
blood samples, and we think we've come up with a treatment. In addition to
replacing the amino acids and enzymes you lack, you'll
receive regular injections of polypeptides and an experimental compound we've
been working on called Agent X. There are, of course, risks . . . which I'll
get to in a second. But we're confident that if this treatment works, it could
extend your life up to a year."
It's not much, but it's better than
nothing. "What are the risks?"
Dr. Hu licked his bottom lip. A nervous glint
in his eyes. "Headaches, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, partial paralysis,
temporary blindness, and sudden cardiac arrest."
"But I'll live longer?"
"We think so, yes."
He sighed. "Then I think you should call my
parents."
They agreed to downplay the severity of
the situation, and Jenny made the conference call and put them on speakerphone.
As the adults argued, Travis listened to them, shaking his head. He knew this
would happen.
They act like I'm not even here. I'm old
enough to make this decision about what to put in my own body.
"I think we should hear from Travis," Jenny
said, breaking his train of thought.
He looked around as if she were talking about
another Travis until catching on. "Given all the side effects weighed against
the other options, I think we should wait until after my bench trial to start
the treatment. And if the side effects are too much for me to handle, we stop
it."
It was quite a moment. Then Travis's mother
said, "That . . . sounds reasonable."
The call lasted several more minutes as they
hammered out the finer details, such as transportation to and from Dr. Hu's
cabin and logs charting Travis's vitals and reaction to the treatment. Travis's
parents and Jenny would alternate taking him to the cabin each weekend. And he
would be responsible for keeping track of his own medical logs.
He agreed and went back to bed.
***
When Travis awoke, he headed to the pier
to think. He'd yet to tell his parents about his powers, and he'd been toying
with the idea of keeping them secret. After all, they'd kept secret that he was
a government experiment for years. The thought of it was enough to make his
blood boil. The edge of the pier smoldered before catching fire.
Shit!
He looked at the water and tried `water
bending' it, but nothing happened. As the fire crept toward him, he shook with
fear. Trying and failing again to water bend, he screamed at the lake, "Why
won't you obey me and come here?"
This time the water complied, soaking the pier and dousing the fire.
"That was close," he said. "I guess I need to
be assertive." He laughed, but when Dr. Hu told Travis he'd be paying for the
repairs, he didn't find that funny.
There goes my allowance for the whole year.
Why does my life suck so hard?
With mutinous thoughts, Travis stalked
away to mediate before he caught another case.
***
The night before he was due for court, he
tossed and turned, struggling to fall asleep as his mind went over everything
that could go wrong. Ultimately, he wound up sleeping maybe three hours and had
bloodshot eyes with bags under them to prove it. The twins caught rides with
their friends that morning, and his mother took him to court. Travis felt like
he was at sea during a tsunami, so he only had dry toast for breakfast and
barely kept that down.
The ride to the courthouse was silent, and his
mother kept shooting him reproachful looks.
Not my fault Giovanni decided to throw hands,
and I had to open a can of whoop-ass.
She turned to him, "You say something?"
A jolt of fear shot through him. "Nothing,
Mother."
"Okay. We're here."
Scheisse! I have
to be more careful.
As they exited the car, he raised his mental
barriers, praying that would be enough to keep him from projecting his
thoughts.
Travis's nerves were so frayed, he couldn't
stop sweating, and soon he'd soaked through his suit, a low-rent outfit his mom
bought him last Easter. His face flushed with heat when the security guard
patted him down and complained about his hands getting wet.
Abigail greeted them at the elevators. "How
are you doing today, Travis?"
"Could be better. I just want to get this over
with."
She nodded and told him to follow her to the
bathroom, where she had him splash cold water on his face. Once his face dried,
she applied concealer to his eyes. "There. Now you don't look like day-old crap. Come on."
As they rode the elevator to the fifth floor,
Abigail reassured Travis that they had a good shot at winning the case. That
did little to stop him from worrying. When they got to the courtroom, Abigail
told them there were two cases before theirs, but they shouldn't take too long
since they were a DUI and a speeding ticket case.
Travis watched the clock. Each second ticking
by was another drop in the growing ocean of his rage. Why should I be
punished for defending myself? Hell, I wasn't in control of my body. And it's
not as if Giovanni and his pugnacious, philistine friends didn't deserve a
taste of my pugilistic prowess. This situation is ludicrous, especially given
I'm dying.
"It's our turn," his mother said. She grabbed
his hand but then pulled away. "You're burning up."
Abigail leaned over and said she could ask for
a continuance if he was sick.
"No," he said, "let's do this."
Abigail elected to have District
Attorney Waterson go first.
"Your Honor, Travis Turner is a timebomb
waiting to go off, and if you fail to convict him now and get him the help he
needs, he could go on to commit a school shooting or act of terrorism."
He riffled through a file and handed a stack
of papers to the bailiff, who passed them to the judge. "Before you are
exhibits A-D: photos of Mr. Turner's electronics and robotics lab in his parents'
garage. It is our contention that using his technical expertise, he could
create an improvised explosive device that he could remotely detonate,
potentially killing hundreds at his school if left unchecked. Which is why we
are asking you to sentence him to the maximum of one year in juvenile prison
and a fine of $4,000. Thank you, Your Honor."
While Mr. Waterson was talking,
Abigail had been scribbling on her legal pad, and once it was her turn, she
read the Prosecution to filth. "Your Honor, not only has DA Waterson argued
facts not in evidence, but his opening argument is built upon prejudicial
evidence that should be excluded."
"Overruled. I'm a big girl and can sort out
the truth for myself, Counsellor. Carry on," the judge said with a bored
expression.
"At no point in the investigation of the brawl
at AP Prep did the police find evidence of any such terroristic attack that DA
Waterson alluded to in his opening. Does my client like to tinker with
electronics and build robots in his spare time? Yes. And did he take part in
said brawl at AP Prep? Yes. But what DA Waterson has conveniently left out is
that my client was defending himself from Mr. Giovanni, who started the fight,
and his friends. He sustained several injuries, including a fractured skull and
broken ribs. I now point to exhibits E-G for your attention." She handed the
bailiff photocopies of the x-rays of Travis's skull and chest.
The judge glanced at them before placing them
aside. "Carry on."
"Thank you, Your Honor. It is the defense's
contention that Mr. Turner has been the victim of bullying for years from Mr.
Giovanni and his friends and that the fight in question was the latest in a
long pattern of abusive behavior."
"Counsellor, do you intend to call Joshua
Giovanni to the stand?"
"I would, but he cut a plea deal with DA
Waterson, and his record has been sealed."
"Then you may only make
reference to Mr. Giovanni's action in relation to this singular event.
Understood?"
Abigail looked down, flipping through her
notes. "Yes, Your Honor. On the day in question, Mr. Giovanni threw the first
blow, starting the fight, as evidenced in a video taken of the fight. If you'd
allow me to play it for you--"
"That won't be necessary. I've already watched
it."
"Moving along, it is
the defense's contention that Mr. Turner defended himself against many
assailants, and fearing for his life, he used the force he felt necessary to
protect himself. Therefore, Your Honor should find him not guilty on all
counts."
"Duly noted. My bladder is about to burst.
Ten-minute recess? Then Mr. Turner can take the stand?"
DA Waterson and Abigail nodded, and the judge
called the hearing to recess.
Travis took the break to go to the bathroom
and calm down. He centered himself, taking a series of slow deep breaths. Then
he returned to the courtroom, ready to tell his side of the story: the truth.
Author's Note: Next time,
Travis takes the witness stand and the judge renders their verdict.
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