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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Portal: Doorway to Adventure 01 (MF, Sci-fi, Fantasy)
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Date: Wed,  9 Mar 2005 00:10:04 -0500
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Lazlo Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac


	
		
__________________________________ 
Celebrate Yahoo!'s 10th Birthday! 
Yahoo! Netrospective: 100 Moments of the Web 
http://birthday.yahoo.com/netrospective/

<1st attachment, "Intro 1.txt" begin>

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. If you are offended by 
sexually explicit material or are under the age of 18, stop reading 
now. This material cannot be reproduced for commercial purposes 
without the consent of the author.

The Portal: Doorway to Adventure
Chapter 1
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2005

While a man may make plans for the future, it is the future that 
makes and executes its plans for the man. Call it destiny or fate, it 
doesn't matter. The future is indifferent to the desires of a single 
individual. If one is lucky, the plans of the man and the plans of the 
future coincide. 

It was a Monday when major changes in the life of Sid Jones 
began. It was the first day of classes at the community college and 
Jerry was attending his very first class, Freshman English. This 
was a required course taught by an attractive instructor by the 
name Professor Susan Smith.  She called out the roll, one name at 
a time and, as names were called, students would raise a hand or 
answer, "Here." 

The attitudes exhibited by the students ranged from bored to 
interested, but none of the students seemed to show the instructor 
the level of respect due a person with her credentials. It was as 
though most of them viewed her as a glorified high school teacher, 
rather than a highly educated college professor. Perhaps it was his 
military training, but Sid found himself viewing his classmates 
with a certain amount of disdain. The instructor called out, "Sid 
Jones?"

In a deep voice rolling voice that often surprised people, Sid 
answered, "Here, Professor Smith."

As many of the women in the class turned to look at him with 
interest as a potential dating partner, the instructor looked at Sid 
with a much more discerning eye. She noted his short military 
haircut, his age, and his upright posture. His ruddy skin suggested 
a Mediterranean heritage. The young man was clearly in excellent 
physical form, judging by his weight and basic build. All of that 
was overshadowed by the intensity with which he was watching 
her.

She knew it wasn't fair, but she was used to sizing up individual 
students on the first day of class. She had seen so many of them 
over the past few years that she was seldom wrong in her 
assessment. Most were passing time, but this young man was 
different. In the back of her mind, she decided that he would either 
be a very tough student who would challenge her on every point or 
a very good student who would do the assignments without 
complaint. She hoped it would be the later. No one noticed the 
slight hesitation in calling the roll, her inspection did not last more 
than just a moment before she continued.

When the roll was finished, she handed out the course syllabus and 
proceeded to explain what the students could expect to learn 
throughout the semester. Sid read it very carefully as she described 
the course material and the assignments. After she had finished her 
introductory spiel, she asked, "Are there any questions?"

One of the coeds in class raised her hand and asked, "Do we really 
have to read all of that stuff by Friday and write a paper?"

Sid shook his head in disgust knowing that the instructor wouldn't 
have included it in the syllabus if she didn't expect them to do it. 
He listened as the instructor answered, "No. You don't have to read 
that stuff or write a paper. I'll be happy to give you an F for the 
assignment."

A wide smile broke out over his face as he looked at the expression 
on the face of the coed. He had seen that same expression during 
boot camp when a recruit would balk at an exercise only to have it 
doubled on him. Instead of twenty-five push-ups, they would find 
themselves doing fifty. 

The coed noticed his grin and spat back, "What are you smiling 
about?"

Sid shook his head and turned to face the instructor rather than 
make the mistake of responding. There was a wry smile on her 
face, as if she had expected him to answer the question. She 
prompted him by saying, "You can answer her question."

"Thank you, Professor," he replied. Taking a deep breath and 
turning to face the coed, he answered, "You have just learned the 
first fact of life."

"And what is that?"

With a wry smile, he answered, "Life is not fair."

The instructor chuckled at his answer. She followed up with the 
logical question by asking him, "What is the second fact of life?"

Sid felt like a recruit that was getting set up for a fall by a 
Sergeant. It was his experience that the one who spoke up was 
singled out for extra attention, usually attention of a negative sort. 
He answered, "No one is exempt from death."

The instructor had expected him to give the trite response that 
complaining about the first fact of life would accomplish nothing. 
His serious answer surprised her. It became clear that this young 
man would give deeper answers to questions than she normally 
received from students. 

The discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a security guard. 
The man stuck his head in the classroom and asked, "Is there a Sid 
Jones here?"

"Yes, sir," answered Sid as he raised a hand calling attention to 
himself. He asked, "Is there something I can do for you?"

The guard looked around the room hesitating to answer the 
question in front of the entire class. The instructor was looking at 
him with a frown for having interrupted her class. Finally, he chose 
to report the message and blurted out, "A Mr. Gerald Jones has 
been taken to the hospital."

Nodding to himself, Sid said, "I assume that he has asked me to 
attend to him as soon as my obligations are completed here."

A very surprised look crossed the guard's face as he read the rest of 
the note. He replied, "That's exactly what the message says."

"Thank you for delivering the message, sir," said Sid in a tone that 
was both thankful and dismissive at the same time. He turned his 
attention to the instructor.

The obvious dismissal surprised the guard. As he closed the door, 
he called out, "You're welcome."

The class was totally silent as though expecting Sid to rise and 
leave the room. Even the instructor was surprised that he didn't 
jump up and leave. Finally, she asked, "Aren't you going there 
now?"

Sid looked surprised at the question and then answered, "No, 
Professor Smith. My obligations here are not yet completed. There 
are still thirty minutes left to this class and I have a History class 
after this one."

 "He may be dying even as we speak."

"I understand that Professor Smith," replied Sid. The idea that his 
uncle might be dying hurt like a knife twisting in his gut. The 
discipline instilled within him by his Uncle Gerald kept him in his 
seat despite an overwhelming desire to leave.

"So go to him," said Mary Smith, concerned that he was denying 
himself something that he needed.

"Professor Smith, I can not do that. Uncle Gerald expects me to 
complete my obligations here. For me to do otherwise would 
disappoint him. I shall not dishonor myself by disappointing him," 
replied Sid with an iron in his deep voice. His posture and tone 
conveyed the message that arguing with him was hopeless. 

The deep voice, the iron in his words, and the fire in his eye 
literally took Mary's breath away and it took her a minute to 
recover her composure. Despite years of teaching hundreds of 
students, this was the first time in her life that she had ever heard 
anyone talk about honor in that fashion. It reminded her of 
something that a knight of the round table would say in a King 
Author story. Rather than argue, she said, "So be it."

After his history class, Sid went to the hospital since his 
obligations at school had been met. He entered the room to find his 
Uncle Gerald waiting for him. The old man lay in bed, head 
propped up by the raised end of the bed. Speaking at a volume that 
was normal for most people, Gerald asked, "You finished your 
classes?"

"Yes, Sir," replied Sid in a loud voice that bordered on a shout. 
Talking in a loud voice was necessary since the old man was 
partially deaf as a result of an injury acquired during World War II 
at the Battle of the Bulge. It was clear to Sid that old man was 
feeling pretty weak, since he normally spoke at a volume that was 
just below a shout. 

The old man, despite the oxygen tube running to his nose, smiled 
at Sid. Eyes twinkling, he said, "Good for you, young man. I'm 
proud of you."

"Thank you sir," replied Sid. Looking over his Uncle, he took in 
the heart monitor, oxygen tube, and intravenous feeds. He asked, 
"What happened?"

"Heart is giving out," replied Gerald. Knowing that his nephew 
would insist on full medical treatment for his condition, he added, 
"I told them not to operate, that it was against my religion."

"Why?" asked Sid concerned that his uncle was not in his right 
mind. The reason for not operating was a lie since his Uncle was a 
good Catholic and there were no religious reasons not to get 
treated.

Gerald's expression got very soft as he answered, "I'm an old 
soldier and my tour of duty is done. It is time for younger men like 
yourself to take over. I'd prefer to go out fighting, but entering a 
battlefield now would be committing suicide. You will respect my 
wishes?"

Although the idea of Uncle Gerald dying upset him, he understood 
the old man well enough to know that arguing would do no good. 
With real sadness in his voice, he answered, "Yes, Uncle Gerald. 
I'll respect your wishes despite the fact that I want you to live more 
than anything else in the world."

Gerald loved Sid like he was his own son. He had lived his life on 
Earth as a bachelor and never had any children, at least none that 
anyone here knew about. The old man laughed as he replied, 
"You're a good young man. I think you're the only one in the 
family that feels that way."

With a suddenness that startled Sid, Uncle Gerald fell asleep. 
Concerned, Sid seated himself in a chair by the bed to watch over 
the old man. As he waited and watched, he remembered some 
episodes of his past where his uncle had been a key player. 

When he was fifteen, his parents had decided to stop paying for his 
Karate and Fencing lessons because they couldn't see how that 
would make money. His uncle had asked him what he was going to 
do about the situation. Sid was sure that the old man had expected 
him to ask for the money and had replied that he would take care 
of it himself. Later, Sid had gone to the instructors and worked out 
a deal in which he would work two hours for every hour of 
instruction. He didn't know for years that his uncle had worked 
behind the scenes to make sure that his deal would be accepted. 
When he had confronted his uncle about it, his uncle had replied, 
"I won't give a man money to solve his problems, but I'll sure as 
hell will help him as he works to an honest solution."

When Sid had graduated high school early, he was faced with the 
problem of how to pay for his college education. Again his uncle 
had asked him what he was going to do about the situation. At the 
time, the Army was advertising a program to save money for 
college, so Sid had joined up. He spent the next four years in the 
service of his country. His uncle, proud that his nephew was 
serving his country, had been the only member of the family that 
had shown up to see him off to basic training.  

He had seen a little action in Desert Storm, but most of his time in 
the middle east had been spent waiting and training in the desert. It 
was a little embarrassing to be considered a veteran, since his 
actual involvement was less than two days of capturing soldiers 
that surrendered without firing a shot. His uncle had assured him 
that it was all part of being a soldier.

Discharged from the Army, he returned home. The only one 
waiting for him was his Uncle Gerald. The old man was proud that 
his nephew had gotten to see action and experienced war first 
hand. His parents had allowed him to return home, although they 
begrudged the fact that he was going to be living with them. They 
even charged him rent as a way of letting him know that they didn't 
appreciate being put upon by him. The fact of the matter was that 
they didn't like how close he was to Uncle Gerald. 

Entering the community college had been one of the few points of 
contention between Sid and his uncle. In a very uncharacteristic 
move, his uncle had volunteered to pay for him to attend the State 
University, but Sid had refused. Secretly his uncle had been very 
pleased with Sid's attitude and was proud when Sid had told him, 
"A lesson earned is worth two lessons given."

Despite his pleasure at his nephew's stance, he had never 
acknowledged that to the young man. The day after Sid had made 
his stand Gerald had changed his will. It was no less favorable to 
Sid, but the changes were intended to make Sid's life much easier. 

It was two hours later when Uncle Gerald woke from his 
impromptu nap. He looked over at Sid, fully expecting the young 
man to be there by his bedside and was not disappointed by what 
he found. He asked, "When do you have to go to your job?"

Sid glanced at his watch and replied, "In about two hours."

"I expect you go to work," replied the old man in a voice that was 
even weaker than before. 

Staring at his uncle and seeing the weakness of the old man, the 
young man nodded his head and replied, "Yes, sir."

Smiling at the respectful tone of voice used by his nephew, Uncle 
Gerald looked over at him and said, "I'm so proud of you. You're 
one of the few young men of this generation that understands 
responsibility and respects obligations. I want you to know that my 
respect and love for you has only grown over the years. Nothing 
pleased me more than your decision to pay your own way through 
school."

With eyes watering, Sid sat in his chair speechless. His uncle very 
seldom gave praise and this was the first time that his uncle had 
admitted to loving him. He replied, "Uncle Gerald, I've loved you 
like a father my whole life. You've taught me to be the man that I 
am and for that I love and respect you."

Gerald knew that his time on this planet was coming to an end and 
there was so much that he wanted to tell Sid. Sadly, he knew that 
he had waited too long. It would be up to Elizabeth to tell the 
young man all that he needed to know. He said, "My time is 
limited so listen carefully. When I am dead, open the safe in my 
office. The combination is your birthday. There is much that you 
need to know and the papers inside the safe will tell you where to 
go to learn it."

"I shall do as you ask."

The old man's mood changed suddenly as a sadness washed over 
him. Sid was concerned by the sudden change in mood, he had 
never been present when his uncle was that sad. Uncle Gerald said, 
"Tell Elizabeth that I loved her. I know you've never met her, but 
you will. She was the one true love of my life."

The mysterious Elizabeth had finally shown up in the conversation. 
Sid had wondered how long it would take. His uncle had always 
talked about Elizabeth, but no one had ever seen her. Even he had 
doubted her existence, but he bit his tongue and didn't say 
anything. The old man looked at him with a sharp eye and said, 
"Wait until you get your own caretaker and you'll understand 
everything. I only suggest that you take great care in picking one 
out. She'll be the most important person in your life."

"Tell Elizabeth that I love her," said his uncle. The old man fell 
asleep as he uttered the last word. Glancing at his watch, Sid was 
concerned about whether he should go to work or stay here. His 
uncle stirred and murmured, "Get to work, I won't die for another 
two days. I promise."

Sid watched him fall asleep again and left the room when it was 
time for him to leave for work. His job as a security guard at a 
local mall didn't pay well, but it gave him time to think and to 
work on homework. As he walked through the mall, he wondered 
what his uncle meant by the term caretaker. The continued 
reference to Elizabeth had convinced most of the family that his 
uncle was mad as a hatter. He had never shared that opinion, 
knowing that his uncle was very grounded in reality, but it did 
make him wonder.

On Wednesday Sid attended his English and History classes. His 
English Professor asked about his uncle before class and expressed 
her surprise that he attended class knowing that his uncle lay dying 
in the hospital. Sid had informed her that he had spent every free 
minute with his uncle and that there was nothing he could do there.

After his classes were over, Sid headed directly to the hospital. He 
didn't expect his uncle to make it through the afternoon. His uncle 
had not said a word since Monday, sleeping through the night and 
then passing into a coma the following morning. His heart labored 
to push blood through veins that were too clogged to support the 
volume needed to keep his brain alive. 

A Catholic Priest was waiting for Sid when he arrived at the room. 
Sid watched silently as the priest gave his uncle last rites. It did not 
take the priest long to perform the ritual, the ritual was short 
intended to allow the priest to finish it prior to a person dying. 
Unfairly, Sid felt like the priest had been going through the 
motions almost perfunctorily. In reality, there was nothing that 
could be done to make that ceremony anything but sad. 

The priest hadn't been gone for more than twenty minutes when his 
uncle died, his last breath sounding like a contented sigh. Sid held 
the old man's hand as a tear escaped and slid down his cheek. It 
was hard to accept that the only person in his life that had loved 
him was gone.

The nurse, responding to the alarm on the heart monitor, stepped 
behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. In a comforting voice, 
she said, "He was proud of you."

"He was an amazing man," replied Sid as her presence brought him 
back to the here and now. His mind was blank as he tried to plan 
his next actions. Slowly, he straightened and blinked back his tears 
to regain control over his emotions. He asked the nurse, "What am 
I supposed to do now?"

Having dealt with many families that had just lost loved ones, she 
gave him a simple action oriented answer. She answered, "You 
should contact the funeral parlor and make the arrangements for 
them to pick up the body."

For the next three days, Sid was extremely busy. His mornings 
were spent in class, his afternoons in taking care of his uncle's 
funeral, and his evenings were spent working. His homework was 
turned in on time and he collected his paycheck. His family was no 
help, treating the death of his uncle as something that was long 
past due. While their indifference bothered Sid tremendously, it 
was their avarice that angered him.  

Saturday morning came with dark gray clouds and a slow drizzling 
rain. Sid, dressed in his best suit, waited in the funeral parlor by the 
open casket taking a last look at his uncle. They had covered his 
scars with makeup, making him look like a soft old man rather 
than the warrior he had been. A worn out tape of generic funeral 
music filled the air, lending a depressing air to the environment. 

The Funeral Director came out and put a hand on his shoulder in 
what passed for a sympathetic gesture. Services in which only a 
handful of people attended depressed him. He felt that people 
should have gained a larger circle of people in the course of a 
lifetime. He said, "It is time for us to start the service."

Sid moved to the first row of pews and glanced over the room 
before seating himself. Behind him was row after row of empty 
pews. Other members of his family should have occupied the 
pews. In front of him, stood the casket, the flowers, and the priest. 
The only bouquets of flowers were the one he had purchased and 
the one sent by his uncle's lawyer. As the Priest went through the 
ceremony, Sid prayed for the soul of his uncle and mourned his 
loss. Five minutes into the service, a rear door opened and closed. 
Out of respect for his uncle, Sid did not turn around to see who had 
entered. 

The service ended and four men entered the room to take care of 
the casket. It saddened Sid that his uncle's pallbearers would be 
complete strangers. Sid went to the back of the room to meet who 
had entered late, hoping that it might be the mysterious Elizabeth 
or at least one of his relatives. The disappointment on his face was 
difficult to miss. Zane Herlan stood and shook hands with Sid as 
he said, "I'm sorry to have been late. My phone was ringing all 
morning."

Frowning at the implications of the lawyer's statement, Sid said, 
"Let me guess. All of my relatives wanted to verify the time for the 
reading of the will."

Uncomfortable with the accuracy of the assertion, the lawyer 
cleared his throat before answering, "I'm afraid so. It doesn't look 
like any of them came to the funeral."

The funeral director came over and interrupted, "We are ready to 
take deceased to the gravesite."

Sid and the lawyer followed him outside. Each man got into his 
own car and followed the hearse to the gravesite. It was a short sad 
drive for Sid as raindrops covered the windshield, but not with the 
intensity that required the windshield wipers. The only thing that 
made it worse for him was the fact that he had to go through this 
alone. Sid felt like this was a time that families should stick 
together, but his family was different. They were already circling 
like vultures wanting to see how much they would get from the 
dead. As the casket was lowered into the grave, tears ran down his 
face, tears that were hidden by the slow miserable rain. 

The lawyer watched Sid carefully, his heart breaking for the young 
man. As a lawyer, he had dealt with lots of families in this 
situation. Usually, families came together in mutual support, but he 
had never encountered a family as ugly as this one. All of the other 
relatives had called to find out about when the will would be read, 
but not a single one had shown up for the funeral. He had to 
wonder how a young man like Sid had emerged from their ranks. 
The full meaning of the instructions given to him by Gerald made 
sense to him.

Gerald had been one of his first clients and he had liked the old 
man right from the beginning. Through references, introductions, 
and good words, Gerald had helped him build his initial client list. 
The man had been a major influence in the lives of many of the 
older business men in the area. Time had isolated Gerald from 
those who knew him best, as his friends and associates had passed 
away before him. Today, only Sid and he were left to say farewell 
to Gerald.

Sid entered the law office and took a seat at the conference table. 
He was the last to arrive even though he had come directly from 
the funeral. Looking around at all of his relatives with disgust, Sid 
said, "He told me he wanted to give all of his money to charity. I 
hope he did."

Aunt Helen sneered at the comment believing that Sid expected to 
get all of his uncle's wealth. She said, "We'll contest the will. He 
was crazy and we'll get it over turned in a minute."

"Why should he leave his money to relatives that didn't even attend 
his funeral?" asked Sid giving full voice to his disgust. He added, 
"He'd have to be crazy to leave us any money."

His father, irritated at Sid's holier-than-thou attitude, snapped, 
"Shut up Sid. We all know you're a brown noser trying to get all of 
his money."

The lawyer entered the room and cleared his throat. Sid bit back 
his retort and turned to face the lawyer. The lawyer introduced 
himself, "I am Zane Herlan and I have been the attorney for Gerald 
Jones for the past forty years. Two months ago, he came to my 
office and updated his will."

Aunt Helen groused, "Get on with it. We don't need any of the 
history crap."

Zane looked at the woman unable to believe the unmitigated gall 
of the woman. He opened the will and started reading it aloud, "I, 
Gerald Jones, being of sound mind and ..."

Sid's father interrupted, "Skip to the important stuff."

As though he was privy to a great secret, Zane smiled and flipped 
over the first page. Starting at the top of the second page, he started 
reading, "My brother, his three children, and six grandchildren are 
all that remain of my family. All of them, with the single exception 
of Sid Jones, are miserable bastards. If it weren't for Sid, I would 
give my entire estate to charity. For my dear nephew, Sid, I leave 
my house and all of the goods within it."

Aunt Helen looked over at Sid with hate filled eyes. She snarled, 
"If you get it all, we're going to rake you over the coals!"

Sid glared back at her, wondering what would happen to him if he 
were to snap her back in half. Zane interrupted, "Gerald made 
arrangements for me to follow on first provable news of his 
impending death. First, I was to go to his home and search for a 
box marked scum in his office. Within that box were all of his 
stocks, bonds, certificates of deposit, and bank accounts. Second, I 
was to turn all of those assets into cash. His broker handled all of 
the transactions utilizing a power of attorney that he had provided. 
Third, I was to divide that money into eight equal amounts and 
give one share each to the relatives with the exception of Sid on 
the condition that by accepting the money they agree not challenge 
the will. Gerald Jones was a thoughtful man and wanted to make 
sure that you could get your share of the inheritance without any 
delay."

The family looked around at each other, puzzled if they were 
getting a good deal or not. They weren't surprised that Gerald had 
referred to them as scum. Zane smiled at the puzzlement and said, 
"I have done as he instructed. I went to the house in the presence of 
Judge Clement, Sheriff Bailey, and three deputies. We located the 
box marked scum and executed the rest of his instructions. Each 
share is worth two hundred and fifty-five thousand dollars."

Unsure if this was a good deal, Uncle George asked, "How much is 
the house and the goods within it worth?"

Zane shook his head amazed at the greed of these people. They 
were being given a quarter of a million dollars by a man whom 
they didn't care enough about to attend the funeral. He answered, 
"The house and goods within it are worth approximately a hundred 
and fifty thousand dollars. There may be some cash, but I doubt it 
is very much. Sid is also the beneficiary on a life insurance policy 
for fifty thousand dollars. That is not covered under the will and 
can't be contested."

Sid's father burst out laughing and said, "So the suck up got 
screwed."

Zane nodded in agreement and commented, "So it would appear."

Sid sat back thinking about his uncle. While it might seem that he 
was getting the smallest inheritance, he wasn't disappointed since 
the house was the most important thing to his uncle and the fact 
that he saw fit to leave it to him meant a lot. His uncle was a 
devious man and knew his family better than they knew 
themselves. There was a trick hidden in this that none of them 
would discover for a long time, if ever. He tried to put on an 
unhappy face as he answered, "It would look like it to me."

The rest of the family started laughing at him taking a perverse 
delight in his situation. Zane watched Sid carefully, noticing that 
despite the troubled appearance on his face, there was a definite 
gleam in his eye. He finally said, "I have checks here for each 
member of the family that is eighteen or older. For those under 
eighteen, a trust fund has been established for them. Their parents 
will need to sign the papers for the transfer of the trust funds. 
Acceptance of the checks indicates acceptance of the terms of the 
will."

The family members pushed and shoved each other out of the way 
to get their hands on the checks. In less than five minutes, the only 
ones left in the conference room were Zane and Sid. Sid looked at 
the door after it had been slammed shut by his grandfather and 
started laughing. Zane asked, "What's so funny?"

"My family is a bunch of fools," replied Sid. He smiled at Zane as 
he added, "The deal was so sweet that they could hardly contain 
their excitement. My uncle was a much smarter man than they 
could possibly imagine. He left me the things that were most 
valuable to him, knowing that I would value them just as much he 
did. My family would have sold them all off without a moment of 
thought. He made sure that wouldn't happen."

Zane smiled and said, "Well, your uncle gave me a personal 
message to give to you. He said that the house contains something 
of greater value than everything else combined. I have no idea 
what it is, but he said that it could never be sold only destroyed."

"I knew there was something like that. My uncle was not a stupid 
man and he made sure that I would come out ahead. My family 
will blow through that money by the end of the year. My uncle 
gave me something that would last the rest of my life, he gave me 
a home."

Picking up a form, Zane held it out to Sid. He said, "Your uncle 
asked me to make this available to you. It is an application for a 
restraining order to keep your family at least a hundred yards from 
you and the house. He thought that you might need it when they 
went through their money."

Sid smiled at the foresight of his uncle and his low opinion of the 
other members of his family. He would take care of that when the 
time was right. For now, he had to distance himself from the rest of 
the family. He asked, "So when can I move into the house?"

"I would recommend that you go to your parents house and get 
everything that you own before going directly to your new home. 
He had a very good alarm system installed. The code to get in is 
1234. Change it once you get there." The attorney looked over at 
Sid and shook his head. He wondered how the poor lad would fair 
amongst those sharks. He added, "The title to the house will be 
transferred when I settle the estate."

"Thanks," replied Sid as the lawyer handed him the key to the 
house.

Zane said, "Call me if you ever need help."

After picking up a small stack of business cards, Sid stood and 
walked to the door. Once there, he turned and faced the attorney 
giving him a look that conveyed the iron in his spirit. He said, "My 
uncle taught me well. I know how to protect myself, he made sure 
of that. I will use you for legal advice, so give me the details for 
arranging a retainer. At your convenience, of course."

Sid left and stopped by his parent's house. It was empty, his 
parents and sister were not at home. Most likely, they were out 
shopping for new cars and he was sure that the next time that he 
would see them his father would be driving a Lexis, his mother 
would be in a sport BMW, and his sister would be driving a 
Corvette. He shared his uncle's opinion that they were a bunch of 
lowlife idiots and that it wouldn't take them long to spend all of the 
money without regard to their future needs. 

He gathered his stuff and carried it out to the rear of his used truck. 
There wasn't much stuff in the truck bed - two boxes that contained 
ten days worth of clothes and his school books. There was also the 
duffel bag containing gear from his days in the army. His most 
valued possession was the computer and printer that his uncle had 
given him to use while in school. He put that on the floor in the 
front of the truck so that it wouldn't bounce around on the drive to 
his new house.

He drove directly to his new home thinking along the way about 
the advice the lawyer had given him. Parking the car in the 
driveway, he looked at the house with fresh eyes. It was in 
immaculate condition, freshly painted last year and a new roof the 
year before that. He knew that the plumbing and electrical service 
had been upgraded while he had been in the Army. 

He entered the house and turned off the alarm system by entering 
the code Zane had given him. He carried in his belongings, putting 
the clothes in the guest room, the computer on the floor in the 
study, and his books on the coffee table in the living room. Still 
expecting to hear the distinctive step of his uncle coming down the 
hall any moment, he wasn't quite ready to take over as master of 
the house. 

Entering the kitchen, he looked around to see if anything required 
immediate attention. The refrigerator contained a bottle of expired 
milk, lunchmeat that didn't smell right, and a few vegetables that 
had seen better days. He cleaned out the old food throwing it into a 
trash can. A loaf of bread showed signs of mold and that went in 
the trash as well. He smiled as he looked around. Other than food 
that would spoil after a week, the rest of the kitchen was 
immaculate. Even the dishes in the dishwasher had been washed.

He found the duster and started dusting the entire house, using that 
as a way to become familiar with what was there. It gave him a 
chance to pick up photographs in their frames and to examine each 
one before setting them down. There were pictures of Gerald in the 
army and on a beach in France. There was one of him standing in 
front of a milk truck. Sid smiled as he remembered the stories his 
uncle told about returning from the war and working as a milk 
man. The family had been scandalized by him doing that kind of 
work, but he had paid for this house in cash after less than two 
years on the job. Gerald had enjoyed the work, particularly the side 
benefits that came with delivering milk to horny war widows and 
bored housewives.

When the Grandfather clock struck two, Sid realized that he had 
not eaten since breakfast. He returned to the kitchen to prepare a 
can of soup for his lunch. He preferred to heat the soup on a low 
setting so that it would never really have a chance to boil. It took 
longer to prepare it that way, but it seemed to him that it tasted 
better. Just as he had started the soup, the sound of the front door 
closing caught his attention. He charged out of the kitchen to 
confront the intruder, finding Aunt Helen standing in the living 
room, her eye roaming around the room looking for things of 
value. He stepped in front of her and said, "Get out of my house."

She looked over at him with a frown on her face and retorted, "I 
just wanted to make sure that we didn't get screwed by that old 
bastard."

His arm flicked out to the side. A finger touched the emergency 
button on the alarm system, an act that would summon the police 
to the house. He opened the front door and returned to stand 
between her and the rest of the house. Controlling his anger, he 
said, "If you are still on my property when the police arrive, I will 
have you arrested for trespassing."

The telephone rang and he made no move to answer it, knowing 
that it was the security company calling to make sure that the alarm 
was real. Aunt Helen shouted, "I have a right to be here you 
ungrateful dog."

"You have no right to be here. You took your money and ran out of 
that room like it was on fire." Sid shook his head looking at the 
woman standing in front of him. Many men his father's age would 
find her attractive, but to Sid the only word that came to mind to 
describe her was harpy. She was a harsh bitter woman, who had 
only a single interest in life and that interest was money. He added, 
"Besides, I am very grateful to Uncle Gerald. It seems to me that 
you're the one that is ungrateful."

With veins in her forehead throbbing, his aunt flew into a rage 
fully convinced that Sid was hiding a pile of money or something 
in the house. Sid stood and listened passively as she ranted in his 
direction. When the police arrived, Sid looked around his aunt at 
them and said, "Gentleman, this woman is trespassing. Would you 
please remove her from my property?"

She moved forward to slap him, but he stepped back out of the 
way. When one of the policemen grabbed her, she turned on the 
officer. The flat of her hand connected solidly with his face. In less 
than a minute she was on the ground and in handcuffs. Sid looked 
down at his aunt and, in a very sad voice, said, "I will be happy to 
sign a complaint for trespassing and attempted assault. You can 
also count on me to support you in any charges of assaulting an 
officer and resisting arrest that you may choose to press."

The policeman smiled at the support being given him and lifted her 
to her feet. He said, "We appreciate that. You can come down to 
the station any time to sign the complaint."

Sid looked at his aunt for a second, as he realized that she might 
have had a chance to steal something from the house before he had 
arrived from the kitchen. He added, "I would appreciate it if you 
could search her to make sure that she hasn't taken anything from 
the house. I just inherited it and I haven't had time to take a proper 
inventory."

Aunt Helen, angry at an accusation that reflected her true intent, 
attempted to kick Sid, but the only thing she accomplished was to 
kick both officers. In her anger, she lost all control. When she tried 
to knee one of the officers in the groin, he responded with force 
and pushed her down to her knees. Holding her hair in one hand, 
he turned to his partner with a very satisfied grin as he ordered, 
"Get on the radio and get a police woman here. I want her 
searched. When we get to the station, I want a full body cavity 
search performed on the suspect. Her actions suggest to me that 
she has stolen something from this house."

It was almost an hour later before the police left taking a screaming 
Aunt Helen with them. Sid had signed all of the complaints against 
her without the slightest hesitation. When he returned to the 
kitchen, his soup had evaporated to nearly nothing. Disgusted, he 
emptied the pot and washed it thoroughly. 
<1st attachment end>


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