The Boy - Milo Jenkins

Here you find the subject of our experiment. Young Milo Jenkins.

It has been said that the defining aspect of a hero, whether super or not, is the morality and purposing said hero uses as a basis for his actions. Those that use their power and abilities for the benefit of mankind are the heroes, whereas those who use their ability as a negative force toward humanity are the villains.

Most of the time, this defining factor is clear gut, black and white. Most of the time. What about the outlier? What of the said hero or villain, depending on your viewpoint, that lies within the gray, no matter how small it may be? Some say they are anti-hero, but why not anti-villain? Are they simply a neutrality? A powerful force that helped both good and evil equally? Indeed they are.

What would such a person be named, however? Not the name said person was given at birth, no, the title. The blatant truth is, we have failed to give these forces a proper title. We have assumed that somewhere along the line, no person could possibly be equally evil and equally good. We then further assumed that the interpreters would always disagree on which side the proposed person would be if he were to walk on the line of both good and bad.

For this reason, we must create a name. We must create a title. In order for this title to fully exist, however, we must apply it. And before we can find it, we must agree that the title is worthy for said person.

This brings us to our one and only test subject, as to be expected as the likelihood of there being two is even more unlikely. Our humble, or not so humble, should you disagree, subject is one by the name of Milo Jenkins.

I suppose in order for one to properly make a judgment on someone's life, or impact of their life that is, one must see the entire life of said someone (the 'someone' being Milo, of course). Just like most lives, Milo began being born a natural birth. His mother was simple minded, nothing special. She was moderately attractive, but not the most apple in the basket.

The delivery room, or car to be more accurate, was not exactly full, to be kind. There were only two people involved in the birthing process. Milo's mother, of course, and then a random passerby that happened to hear the mother's screaming pain. The father of Milo was not present. He had gone on an abrupt, unannounced journey approximately 9 months ago. He still has yet to return. Where he has gone is irrelevant. Why he has gone, however, I believe you can deduce.

I digress, back to the birth. Through the arduous process, Milo finally was born. Born precisely at January 1^st 1980 at the stroke of midnight. The child was brought into the world with the ringing of church bells, fire works galore, and shared kisses from all those around.

The next few years were uneventful. The single mother tried to raise the child on her own, whilst dating the passerby that had helped her on the road. This passerby, however, felt as if the child he helped birth's aim was to steal the mother away. At the age of 4, Milo was beaten constantly by the passerby. In the spots no one could notice easily, you understand. If the mother or authorities had known, then it may have ended.

The mother eventually married the passerby after five years. Hesitant to say yes, as her previous love had randomly gone missing, she finally married the passerby. Despite their attempts, the passerby and the mother could not have another child. Both went to see a specialist, and were both told that they were able to conceive, but nothing. Something was preventing it, willingly or unwillingly.

After another five years passed by, all as uneventful as the rest. However, this is where a change began to occur. It was January 1^st 1990 at 12:01. Milo was sitting at his desk playing with a Rubik's cube and saw a flash of a picture above his head. He didn't notice it at first, so kept fiddling with his cube in futility. There it was again! Another flash, even longer this time. It caught his attention for a moment, bt not enough to cause a concern.

After ten minutes of continuing fiddling with this cube, the bright beam began to shine just before Milo, one which he could not ignore. The light created the cube. Help up to the beam, the cube resembled it in every way. Every turn made on the cube in hand was translated to the beam.

Milo reached out to touch the cube, to try and shift its column or row. Upon his touch, the cube glowed in brilliance, died back down, and then moves rapidly. Once the movements were completed, the beam resembled a completed rubik's cube. However, the one in hand remained unsolved, for now. Milo, despite not being able to follow the pattern and movements he had seen, somehow had a knowledge of how to solve it.

Placing the cube down, he wondered if what he had seen was even real. He knew he felt the cube in hand, had seen the beam, had even felt the beam! Everything had to be real. He used the knowledge the beam had given on the cube. It was solved in a matter of seconds.

Milo ran to get his mother, to show her this 'magical' beam. Reluctantly, she got off the couch, much to her husband's dismay, and walked over to his desk.

“You see it? You see it? Look!”, said Milo, pointing at the beam.

“See what sweety? I only see the wall.”, the mother said. She couldn't see the beam. She was blind to its knowledge, blind to its glow.

“But, it's right there! The glowing cube! You gotta see it, you just gotta!”, Milo pleaded.

“I don't have time for this foolishness. I'm tired and need to go to bed, and so do you. Now go hurry off now and go to sleep.”

Milo slowly loosened his grasp of his mother's hand, and with slight tears held back, he went to his room and fell asleep.

***

“How could she not see the cube? It was right there. Wasn't it? I touched it! I know it was there,” Milo said, as he was huddled up in his blanket.

“Maybe I'm the only one that can see it? Nah, that's ridiculous. If I can touch it, everyone must be able to see. Maybe mom is right...maybe I was just imagining it.”

Milo turned on his radio to soothe him as he went to sleep. Just before he was asleep, his step dad burst through the door with a belt in hand. There was fear in Milo's eyes, and a fire in the dad's.

“You think you can take her from me, don't you, you little brat? Don't you!? Well, I'm telling you now, it won't happen, I won't let you. Come here!”

The step dad, belt in hand, grabbed Milo by the hair and dragged him to the side of the bed.

“I'm gonna teach you a lesson kid. You're gonna learn to let me and your mum be, got it?”

“No, no please. I promise I won't call for her again, please! Ju-just put the belt away, please! I promise!” said Milo.

“It's too late for that. Now bend over and take the belt like a man.”

Milo's step dad lashed against Milo's back end and neck. Both were screaming: Milo out of pain, and the step dad out of anger.

“You will regret this. I will make you regret this,” Milo promised.

After lashing Milo a good bit more, the step dad left the room with a slight grin, and Milo with vengeful and tear filled eyes.

The pain subsided after Milo fell asleep.

***

The next day, Milo got out of bed, turned off his radio, and began to get ready for school. The dates happened to coincide that January 2^nd was first Tuesday of the year, and so the school jumped back into gear immediately.

“Ok. Belt �" check. Shirt �" check. Pants �" check. Underwear �" check. Socks �" ummm...socks...hmmm. No socks? I just had a pair on my...”

A flash appeared above Milo's bed. It vanished quickly, just like the cube had done, but this time Milo saw it.

“Hey! Hey you! That light thing! Can you hear me? Ummm, if you can, come back please.”

The light remained hidden. Milo walked away and continued looking for the lost pair of socks, and then it flashed!

“Hey! Hey! Don't go, stay! I need to know you're real!”

Milo's responses and pleas to the light made no difference. The light vanished yet again, and remained hidden for the next few minutes.

“This is pointless. I can't even get you to stay! Maybe you can't talk? Or maybe you aren't the communicating type? I dunno.”

Milo went back to looking for his socks and then the flash came back �" this time, as a beam. The beam looked like an arrow, as if it were pointing to something. The arrow was hovering over a fold on his bed.

“Let's see here,” said Milo, as he lifted up the cover, “Hey! My socks! You found em'!”

The beam went away the moment he saw the socks, and didn't come back the rest of the day.

Milo got in the car with his mom and both headed off to school.

***

The entire drive up to the school, the entire day at school, the entire drive back home, and the rest of the day �" all spent thinking about this beam. This 'mysterious' little helper.

“It only shows up when I need help with something. Something like solving a puzzle or finding something I lost. Maybe that's why mom couldn't see it? It wasn't trying to show her anything? I don't know. I just wish I could control it more directly...”

***

Over the next few years, nothing really changed in the beam. The flashing continued on, and eventually a steady beam would be realized. Milo did learn, however, to control it slightly. He found that when he concentrated on the problem, and it alone, the light would come.

He had yet to fully realize what the beam was or meant, but he believed it would come in time. He was right.