A Walking Shadow Vol. 1 Read online

  Chapter 2

  I woke up to someone pounding on the front door. My eyes blinked against the sunlight filtering through my bedroom window for a few moments. As I stretched out my limbs, I craned my neck over the pile of blankets around me to look at the alarm clock. It was just past six in the morning. I curled back up into my blankets; I’d only gotten home three hours earlier, since I’d been walking along the beach all night. I pulled a pillow over my head and tried to ignore the knocking. It was probably just a salesman. When they wouldn’t stop pounding after a good minute, I exhaled sharply and climbed out of bed.

  “I’m coming,” I called as I jogged down the hallway and down the spiral stair case. When I finally got downstairs, I peeked through the front window curtains. Standing outside my door was a really skinny and gaunt looking man wearing a black suit and tie. His eyes were sunken in, and his cheekbones looked like they were about to pierce through his skin. His short gray hair was slicked back. He looked very posh and professional, and not at all like a door to door salesman. The man was expressionless as he stood in front of the door with a briefcase clutched in one hand and the other raised and ready to begin pounding again.

  I opened the door slowly and looked up at him expectantly. He peered at me through the wire-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his nose. After looking me up and down, he cleared his throat and extended his hand to me. “Are you Jonah Lewis?”

  I shook his hand. His boney fingers were almost painful as they clutched mine. “I am. And you would be…?”

  “Norman Atwood,” he stated tonelessly. “Estate attorney. I’m here to discuss your Father’s final will and testament. I called yesterday after the funeral service, but unfortunately no one answered.”

  I scratched my head. That must’ve been him who had been phoning the house the entire afternoon yesterday. I hadn’t been in the mood to talk with anyone at the time and ended up muting the ringers on all the phones. Norman raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to explain.

  “I’d been out,” I lied smoothly. “Sorry.” One benefit of being part human was the ability to lie. Traditionally, robots couldn’t lie, because it would go against the Asimov rule of robotics that a robot can’t cause harm to a human being. I guess those rules didn’t apply if you were only half.

  Norman looked me up and down once again before nodding. Without asking, he pushed past me and let himself inside.

  I closed the door behind me and followed behind him. “So, Norman—“

  “Mr. Atwood.”

  “Mr. Atwood,” I corrected. “Do you want anything to drink?”

  “Water will do.” He said dismissively as he settled down on the living room sofa. As he began to rummage through his briefcase, I went to the kitchen to fetch his cup of water.

  “How old are you, Mr. Lewis?” Mr. Atwood inquired when I returned and his drink on the glass coffee table in front of him.

  “Twenty,” I said without hesitation. Another lie. I may, physically, be twenty years old, as I have always been, but I’d only been created by Father five years ago.

  “Interesting,” Mr. Atwood murmured, almost to himself. He took a sip of his water as he read over his papers. “We’re just waiting for your cousins to arrive, and then we can begin.”

  “My cousins?” I repeated dubiously. He couldn’t mean who I thought he meant.

  He looked up at me, eyebrow arched. “Yes, Everett and Blaine,” he said. “They arrived at LAX last night.”

  I slumped onto the loveseat. Everett and Blaine. Father’s business tycoon nephews. Of course. They couldn’t make it to his funeral, but they had time to talk about their share of his inheritance. This was incredibly typical behavior for them, though. Everett and Blaine’s mother, one of Father’s sisters, had married very wealthy businessman. Thus, the two of them grew up in the lap of luxury and wealth. I mean, I’m not going to lie; Father and I were pretty well off ourselves. We lived in a beach house in Marin County, one of the richest counties in California. But it was nothing compared to the amount of money that Everett and Blaine had been spoiled with. In fact, I’m pretty sure that Blaine’s first word was “Vuitton.”

  “I didn’t know that,” I picked at a loose string on one of the throw pillows. Mr. Atwood said nothing as he scribbled a note onto one of his papers.

  For nearly twenty minutes, Mr. Atwood and I sat in silence. Both of us were too lost in our own thoughts to make polite small talk. While I sat and stared out the nearby bay window, I would be lying if I said my stomach wasn’t churning at the thought of having to see my “cousins”. Ever since I’d met them, I’d gotten the vibe that they didn’t like me very well, though I’d never given them any reason to. I could probably count the amount of words I’d ever spoken to them on one hand. I couldn’t imagine having an entire conversation with them about Father’s will today. Not that I minded. Most of their conversations seemed to revolve around the stock price of the grocery store chain that they owned or the brunch they had with some big-shot CEO. None of this really interested me. When the doorbell rang twenty minutes later, I begrudgingly got up and answered it. Sure enough, there stood Everett and Blaine. They stood smiling down at me like I imagined a hunter would smile at an unsuspecting deer. I stared back at them blankly.

  “Jonah,” Everett said, reaching a hand out and ruffling my hair. When he did so, the sleeve of his designer suit rolled up, revealing a gold watch. “Nice to see you, buddy.”

  “Haven’t seen you in a while,” Blaine grinned, giving me a pat on the shoulder. They both talked overly sweetly and condescendingly, like I was a five year old child.

  I wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. “Mr. Atwood’s already here,” I said, beckoning them inside with a wave of my hand. “Close the door behind you, please.”

  They followed me to the living room, where Mr. Atwood sat with his hands folded in his lap. “Gentleman,” Mr. Atwood nodded, standing up to shake their hands as they walked by. “You’re late.” I was glad to see that his coldness wasn’t just directed towards me.

  “Our fault,” Blaine said, holding his hands up. He tapped the Bluetooth attached to his ear. “Had other matters to attend to.”

  “What’s more important than your uncle’s funeral?” I asked. I was honestly curious and not trying to be rude, but Blaine shot me an icy glare.

  “Just give me a moment to look things over, would you?” Mr. Atwood said, ignoring me.

  “Of course, take all the time you need,” Everett smiled and his overly-white teeth literally sparkled under the light. Do you have to drink straight bleach to get them that white? He looked over at me then, as if he could sense me staring.

  “How’ve you been, buddy?” He nodded. I wondered if Everett knew my real name, or if he genuinely thought that it was “Buddy”. “Things good at school? Life treating you well?” I blinked at him.

  “I don’t go to school at the moment,” I said coolly. “And my father just died. How are you?”

  He turned a light shade of red, and his mouth started to move, trying to come up with something to say, but finding nothing.

  Blaine came to his rescue then. “Look, Jonah.” Hey, at least he knew my name. “We know you don’t like us, and that’s fine, we’re not exactly trying to be your best friends. But this is business. You know? We’re just here to get our fair share of Uncle Eli’s inheritance and we’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

  “Great,” I said flatly. Blaine stared at me, and I wasn’t going to be the first one to look away, so I stared back.

  Blaine opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but finally Mr. Atwood said, “Let’s begin, shall we?”He pushed his glasses up his nose, and flipped through a black plastic binder. Blaine shook his head before finally looking away from me.

  “Well, gentleman,” he continued after a few moments, speaking to Blaine and Everett. “This may come as a disappointment, seeing as you’ve traveled so far to be here. But it looks as though Mr. Eli Lewis left noth
ing in the will for you.”

  I looked up from my hands. Blaine and Everett paled visibly.

  “What?” We all three said in unison.

  “Yes,” Mr. Atwood said dully, not sharing our excitement. “It looks as though everything has been left to Jonah. Property, possessions, all of it.”

  I couldn’t help but smile as I looked back down at my hands. Blaine and Everett stared in disbelief.

  “Why—there must be some mistake!” Everett exclaimed. His thick hands were clenched.

  Blaine nodded furiously, and a vein in his head threatened to burst. “I mean, don’t get us wrong, we love our dear cousin Jonah,” did I smell a lie? “But he’s not even the man’s real son! He’s adopted! At least, that’s what he says.” He glanced over at me and his eyes were full of disgust. I tried not to show any emotion as I stared back at him. While their mother had accepted Father’s lie that he had adopted me, a fifteen year old orphan, while he was in New York, I could tell that Blaine and Everett had always been suspicious of this tall tale. They could sense something off about me the way that animals could smell danger. “We are his nephews, Mr. Atwood. His blood. Are you sure there’s no mention of us in there? Blaine and Everett Ambroise.”

  “Yes, I know what your names are,” Mr. Atwood sighed. “And I don’t see them in here.”

  Blaine and Everett continued to argue, but Mr. Atwood didn’t seem to be listening to them. As he read over something inside the binder, his brow furrowed, looking confused. It was the only emotion besides boredom that he’d conveyed the entire time he’d been here. “Why— hold on a minute,” he said, sounding slightly alarmed. We all looked at him curiously. He stroked his chin, and then nodded. “Mr. Lewis, it looks as though there’s a bit of a catch to your inheritance.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “A catch?”

  From a pocket in the back of the binder, Mr. Atwood pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. I turned it over in my hands as I examined it. It was just a regular white envelope, a little dirty and worn, with my name scrawled across the back in blue ink. I looked up at Mr. Atwood, confused. He simply gestured at me to open it.

  I tore open the top, and pulled out the notebook paper that was inside. I unfolded it, and it read:

  To Jonah, My Son:

  First of all, I love you, and I’m sorry. If you are reading this, it means that I am gone and have left you all alone. I know that my absence must be causing you a great deal of pain and confusion, and I am not there to make it go away, and for that I am truly sorry.

  You are my son. No matter what you are or how you came to be in this world, you are my son, and nothing can change that. You have always been the most important thing in my life, and you were the one thing I did right. Jonah, you are my greatest accomplishment, and I am very proud of you.

  There is so much I wanted to teach you. You are very smart, Jonah, very smart. And you think you know everything, son, but trust me, you don’t. You’ve always had your nose stuck in book, but there is not a single book on the surface of the Earth that could teach you all the lessons that the world pulsating around you can. I wish that I could have been with you to teach you these things, but life doesn’t happen the way you want it to. There. That’s your first lesson.

  I have decided that I am not going to hand you your inheritance just yet. If I were to give it to you right now, you will never leave that house. I know you more than you know yourself, Jonah. You will sit there and let yourself grow cold. And I don’t want that. I don’t want you to be lost without me. I don’t want you to shut down.

  Because of this, I’ve hidden a series of letters around the country for you, Jonah. Obviously, I have not gone to these places myself, seeing as how it takes me ten minutes just to get across the house in this damn wheel chair. Don’t worry about how they got there, the fact is that they’re waiting for you. Each letter will contain clues to lead you to the next letter. You have to find each and every one, Jonah, and then return with all of them to San Francisco, or you are not going to get the inheritance. I mean it.

  You’ve always wanted to be human Jonah. You haven’t said it, but I could tell when we went to the beach and you would watch the families laughing together, or when we went to the park and you would watch the children cry when they scraped their knees This journey is your first step to becoming a human, my son, because you might not believe me now, and it might not make much sense, but you can be human if you wanted to be. This is my final gift to you. Humanity.

  I love you. More than anything. Always remember that.

  Good luck on your journey.

  Father

  After I finished reading his message, the pain in my chest had returned. I bit my lip, and turned the paper over. There was more writing on the back.

  I’ll be kind and tell you that the first letter is in Las Vegas. Don’t expect me to be so blunt in the future. Now, a hole in the wall on the sinner’s road is where you’ll find the letter, where the lights begin to fade out. It will be waiting amongst broken souls with glassy stares and numb tongues, under the all knowing eye.

  I stared at the paper for several minutes after I finished reading it. I felt strange; my eyes were hot and the lingering ache in my chest grew stronger. I shifted uncomfortably before looking up. The three of them were watching me anxiously. Everett and Blaine had their eyebrows raised, waiting for me to explain, so I just handed them the letter. It was quiet as they both read over it, and then I saw large grins spread across their faces.

  “Well, that might be a problem, Mr. Atwood,” Everett grinned. “Jonah has never gone two feet outside the house without his dad, there’s no way he can travel around the entire country by himself. He can’t possibly go along with this.”

  “And,” Blaine interjected excitedly. “Inheritance has to be claimed at least ninety days after the writer’s death. If it is not claimed, the government then takes control of it, isn’t that right, Norman?”

  “Mr. Atwood,” Mr. Atwood corrected tiredly. “And yes, that is true.”

  Blaine was positively beaming at this point. “After those ninety days, our lawyers will make sure we get a hold of it. No use in letting it slip away. All those memories, and this beautiful house. Don’t worry, Jonah. We’ll make sure to cut you your share.” The two of them were grinning at me devilishly. They were born to be businessman, alright. I could practically see the dollar signs in their eyes.

  Still, I didn’t hesitate before I said, “I’ll do it.”

  Blaine and Everett looked at me incredulously, the glee slowly disappearing from their faces. “What?” they both stammered.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “I said, I’ll do it. I’ll look for the letters.”

  Everett narrowed his eyes, and leaned across the table towards me. “You can’t be serious, Jonah,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Let’s be real here. There’s no way you’ll make it back in ninety days. You might as well save yourself the trouble and embarrassment and settle for whatever my brother and I are oh so generous enough to give to you.”

  I looked him straight in the eye. “I’m getting the inheritance. All of it.”

  Mr. Atwood cleared his throat loudly. “I only need to hear from Mr. Lewis, thank you,” he said impatiently. “So, Mr. Lewis, are you going or not?”

  I licked my lips, and then nodded. “I am.”

  Everett and Blaine sighed in annoyance, and Mr. Atwood clasped his hands together. “Alright then. Seeing as how this is not a typical case, I’m going to have to come by tomorrow with forms for you to sign, stating that the government has control over your father’s home and possessions until you return and if you do not come back within ninety days, they are claiming it permanently. Please do not leave the premises until you have signed the papers, or the agreement will be void. Understood?”

  I nodded. “Understood, sir.” I looked at Everett and Blaine then. “Well, looks like we’re done here. Time for you all to be going, then, yeah?”

&n
bsp; Oh, if eyes could kill, I would be a dead man right then, with the way they were glaring at me so furiously. They stood up, shaking and muttering obscenities under their breath. I followed them and Mr. Atwood as they trudged towards the front door.

  After Mr. Atwood bowed his head in goodbye and slipped out the door, Blaine leaned in close so that our noses were almost touching.

  “This isn’t over, you know.” He whispered, pointing a finger at me. I glanced at it distastefully. “We’re going to be here tomorrow to watch you chicken out.”

  “Great! I’ll see you then,” I smiled sweetly. His eyes narrowed, and shook his head before following his brother outside the door. I slammed it shut behind them, and watched through the side window as they climbed into their rental car and sped off. When they were gone, I pressed my forehead against the door, and sighed. I sank to my knees, and pressed the backs of my hands against my eyes. The fiery pain that blazed inside my chest threatened to burn me alive.