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Walking into the playground of the StarFleet school, Jim eyed the profile of the Vulcan standing rigidly beside his brother with intent curiosity.
He knew about the different aliens that made up the Federation after doing a project on its history. Like so many of his classes, he’d found the material a bit basic and had gone onto the nets to learn more. Of all the species in the galaxy, the Vulcans fascinated him the most. He’d only seen a few in real life on visits to Chicago and New York, and never one so young.
He was aware Sam had been asked to buddy the alien visitor and by the looks of them, neither were enjoying the experience. His brother had always been shy and he figured this was probably some teacher’s ‘clever’ idea to get him to come out of his shell. Wasn’t working, though.
Even from behind, Spock stood out in the playground with his traditional long Vulcan robe and thick thigh-length coat, while everyone else wore jeans and sweaters. It was that time of year where days could be mild – almost balmy – or freezing cold. Today was pretty average, though to look at Spock he was dressed like he was expecting a blizzard.
“Wassup, Sam?” Jim said, sauntering up to them, hoping for an introduction.
His brother scowled. “What does it look like, Jimmy?”
Jim wasn’t paying attention to the snarky response as the Vulcan, who had looked briefly at him, turned and eyed Sam with a raised eyebrow. For the first time, Jim could see his full face and he found himself frowning, trying to figure out why the Vulcan looked familiar.
“Sam?” the young alien said quietly. “I was informed your name is George.”
“It is – it’s George Samuel Kirk. I’m Sam to my family, George to everyone else.”
Jim watched as the Vulcan’s eyebrow rose even higher, almost touching the bangs of the odd haircut he wore. “Most illogical.”
Knowing about Vulcans and their adherence to logic, the comment elicited a grin from Jim.
“My brother, Jimmy,” Sam added belatedly by way of a greeting. “This is Spock.”
The dark eyes turned to him. “Greetings Jimmy,” Spock said solemnly, with a curt nod.
Jim lifted his right hand and executed a perfect ta’al. “Live long and prosper, Spock,” he replied and grinned as that eyebrow shot up again. He wanted to learn how to do that real bad.
Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes. “They should have given buddying Spock to you.”
“That would be illogical as our ages differ and therefore we will not share the same classes.”
“Didn’t they tell you? This isn’t a regular school,” Sam explained. “StarFleet schools aren’t like normal schools. You’re put in a class based on your ability, not on your age. Jimmy here’s a bit of a child prodigy – which is saying something, ‘cos everyone who gets accepted is pretty clever; he’s even in some of my classes.”
“Indeed?”
Jim felt a flush creep up his neck and face as dark eyes assessed him with curiosity. He knew he shouldn’t feel embarrassed because Spock was probably way brighter than any Human kid his age. It was how he always reacted to the subject; all he wanted to do was blend in and he hated the fact his intelligence set him apart from his peers, even in a school for the gifted.
“Yeah, plus Jimmy’s got a ‘thing’ about Vulcans – has done for a few years.”
He felt his flush deepen. “Have not!” he protested and then looked up at Spock. “I don’t have ‘a thing’. I just think Vulcans are interesting.”
Spock tilted his head slightly to one side. “Indeed? In what manner?”
Jim found himself on the end of an intense gaze and was unable to shake off that sense of familiarity that had hit him the moment he’d seen Spock’s face. “You’re real strong – like three times stronger than Humans.” He paused, trying to imagine what it would be like to have the strength to easily fight off the town’s bullies he sometimes found himself being confronted by. “And since that guy, Surak, you control your emotions, which is cool.”
“Yeah, you could learn something there, Jimmy. Like Frank says, you’re a hot-head.”
Jim hated it when Sam took Frank’s side. As far as he was concerned, his step-father had no redeeming qualities and he regarded any time Sam agreed with him, as little short of traitorous.
“Hot-head? I am unfamiliar with the term.”
“It means he shoots his mouth off when he should keep it shut, and uses his fists rather than his brain when he’s in situations he doesn’t like. It gets him into trouble with some of the local kids that don’t go to this school.”
Jim felt himself flush at Sam’s words, having wanted to make a good impression on the alien visitor. But he hadn’t reached the grand old age of nine without learning that he rarely won arguments with his brother, and he wasn’t about to start a squabble with him in front of Spock.
Meanwhile, a small frown had appeared on Spock’s face. “My mother spoke Standard to me from an early age; however I have discovered since my arrival there are many terms and phrases she did not share with me. I believe you speak a more colloquial version than she.”
“Are you famous?” Jim asked suddenly.
This time both Spock’s eyebrows rose at the odd question. “I am not. Upon what do you base your query?”
Jim couldn’t take his eyes off the Vulcan’s face. “I dunno. It’s like I’ve seen you before, somewhere.”
“I think it unlikely, since this is my first visit to Earth – unless you have been to Vulcan?”
“He wishes,” Sam muttered and then glanced down at Jim. “Spock’s the son of the Vulcan ambassador to Earth – you probably saw his holo when you did that Fed history project. Look, I just had an idea, but I need to go talk to someone – look after Spock for a few minutes, will ya?”
Jim grinned. It was rare his brother asked him to do something that he actually didn’t mind doing. “Sure.”
As Sam trotted off across the playground, Jim looked up at Spock. “So…”
Spock looked back at Jim quizzically.
“Like I said, I’ve never been to Vulcan. What’s it like?”
“It is unlike any other Federation planetary member—”
“That isn’t what I meant.” Vulcan logic, Jim reminded himself. “Can you describe it?”
“I can furnish you with scientific and socio-economic data, if that is your wish.”
All it took was the right question, Jim knew. The question was what was it? He had one of his intuitive leaps. “Now that you’re here on Earth, what are the things you miss about Vulcan?”
“The mean temperature here is substantially less. In my home city of ShiKahr, the average seasonal range is thirty-five and fifty-one degrees Celsius. Aside from those occasions when I am in a location that is environmentally controlled to match Vulcan norms, I have been cold since my arrival.”
Jim was aware Vulcan was overall a hotter planet, but he hadn’t considered the effect of that fact on a native visiting his home planet. It explained why Spock was dressed up in winter clothing on a mild Fall day. “What else?”
“Vulcan is a desert planet with no significant bodies of water and I miss its aridity. The humid climate of your home-world has caused a minor skin irritation that I control through medication…”
For the next ten minutes, Jim built on his existing knowledge of Vulcan, finally hearing about Spock’s more personal experiences. Sam’s return halted his questioning.
“Got good news Jimmy,” Sam said, bounding up to them. “You’ve just been made Spock’s buddy since you’re the expert on Vulcans around here.”
Jim grinned happily. “Really?”
“Yeah, Spock’s already memorized the layout of the school and my class schedule which he’s shadowing. The buddy bit’s just to keep him company between classes.”
“It is unnecessary—”
Sam held up his hand to forestall Spock’s objection. “We’ve already been over this, Spock. The Principal wants you to have a buddy, regardless of what you want, and now…” he ruffled Jim’s hair, causing him to bat his big brother’s hand off angrily, “little Jimmy’s it.”
Jim watched Sam saunter off, then turned to Spock, a feeling of excitement washing over him. “Sorry. He can be a dick sometimes. Well…a lot of the time…”
“A dick?”
Jim shook his head. “Never mind,” he smiled at the idea of trying to explain it. Then a thought occurred to him – Spock was two years older than him and hanging out with younger kids is never cool. “Do you mind me being your buddy?”
“It is acceptable, Jimmy.”
Jim wasn’t sure how to take that and tried to read Spock’s face. The blank look told him little, and when Spock raised an eyebrow, he realized he was staring. He really wanted to learn how to do that. “Can you call me Jim? I hate being called Jimmy – which is why Sam does it.”
“Is that not the name you were given?”
“Uh no, that’s James.”
“Your name is James? I confess I do not comprehend Terran naming conventions.”
Between George and Sam, and James and Jim, he could see the Vulcan had a point – he’d just never considered it before. He was used to seeing things from his own perspective, and for the first time in his young life, he was starting to see things differently – see stuff the way Spock might see it, like he was seeing the same world, but with new eyes.
“Never really thought about it. Hardly anyone calls me James; my mom does when I’ve done something wrong – it’s how I know I’m in trouble.”
The slightly quizzical expression remained on Spock’s face. Time to change the subject. “So, how long you gonna be in Riverside?”
“The duration of my visit is one Terran month, Jim.”
Jim grinned. “Cool.”
~ = ~
“I must seek permission from my guardian, Siuvek, if I am to return later than scheduled,” Spock explained.
Jim would hate to have his life dictated to such an extent. “So comm. him,” he suggested. “It’s only chess. We’re sneaking off after school and doing something naughty.”
“I can attend next week.”
“That’ll be practically your third week here. You’ll only be able to go to one more after that.”
“You exaggerate. Next Tuesday at the time the chess club starts, I will have twenty two point four days remaining and will be able to attend two more sessions.”
Jim fought not to roll his eyes at Spock correcting him. Again. He wasn’t used to it – he frequently found himself correcting his own teachers. It was the first time he’d met a kid as smart as Spock and he wanted to be just as smart when he reached eleven. “Except the last Tuesday is canceled ‘cos it’s Halloween,” Jim pointed out.
“What is Halloween?”
Okay, not just that chess club wasn’t happening on the 31st, Spock didn’t even know about the most awesome day in the calendar – and he included Christmas, because that was supposed to be a time for family and Jim didn’t count Frank as part of the family. In his nine years of life, his mom had only been around for three Christmases, and two of those he was under four and had little memory of them.
“Look it up. Now comm. Siuvek so you can come. I wanna see if I can beat you.”
“I think it unlikely,” Spock said, retrieving his comm. from a nifty fold in his robe. “I am unbeaten in my age group on Vulcan.”
+
“You play a most illogical game,” Spock said, frowning at his tipped king on the top level where he’d done his best to defend him against Jim’s persistent onslaught.
Jim was doing his best not to look smug, but was largely failing. A week into the buddying, he found he could occasionally see the Vulcan mask slip. It usually showed in his eyes, and right now they was showing surprise and confusion. “Chess isn’t about logic, it’s about tactics,” he pointed out, as he began to clear the pieces back into their box. “That’s what my grandpa told me when he taught me to play.” It hadn’t taken him long to figure out the more unpredictable his play, the more chance he had of winning.
“Nevertheless it is possible to marry the two up,” Spock countered, helping Jim gather the pieces and dismantle the board.
“Yeah, but a good tactician won’t go for what’s expected. I try and figure out what you think I’m gonna do, and then don’t do it,” he grinned.
Spock opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it, apparently thinking better of it. “I will require time to consider your comment. May I challenge you to a rematch next week?”
Jim grinned. “Yeah, you’re on.”
If he could beat Spock when he was two years his junior, maybe he could be as smart as his Vulcan friend one day, he reasoned.
Spock nodded once in assent. “I wish to speak to the chess tutor,” he said, picking up his messenger bag full of schoolwork.
“Sure. See you tomorrow.” Jim walked through the school and out the main-gate. He was so wrapped up in privately crowing over his victory with Spock, he didn’t notice the three Riverside boys standing outside and knew he was in trouble before they’d even approached him. Many of the local children, not clever enough to pass the entrance exam, resented the StarFleet school and its attendees.
“Hello Jimmy,” one of them said. John Redowski – he was blessed/cursed with an eidetic memory – had been in his class for one year at kindergarten. Jim recognized the other two as having given his brother trouble for a while. He rarely had any contact with John and noticed he’d gotten heavier since the last time he’d seen him.
Jim put his head down and made to walk past them, but a hand shot out and grabbed his arm. Although John was his size, the other two were easily three or four inches taller than him and much bulkier.
“You weren’t running away like a chicken, were you?” John sneered, grabbing his arm and swinging him around.
“No,” Jim said, defiantly. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of showing them any fear.
“For a genius, you’re pretty stupid Jimmy,” one of the older boys said, coming to stand toe to toe with him. “You’re outnumbered three to one and we’re all bigger than you. You should be scared. Or are you suicidal like your hero dad?”
White hot fury erupted in Jim like a Volcano, and without a further thought, his fist connected with John’s nose with a satisfying crack, almost certainly breaking it, he knew. A moment later, they were all upon him, as he got pushed to the ground and boots connected with various parts of his body. He was ready for a drudging when it suddenly stopped and Jim opened his eyes, unaware of having closed them.
Through the tears he refused to acknowledge, Spock’s face swam into view as he squatted beside him on his haunches, his eyes full of concern.
“Are you able to stand?”
Jim didn’t respond immediately, looking about him trying to figure out what had happened to his assailants. All three were lying sprawled on the ground as though they’d been phasered. Jim knew there was no way Spock carried one of those.
“What did you do to them?” he wondered aloud, pushing himself up to a seated position and wincing against the pain.
“I rendered them unconscious with a Vulcan technique,” he answered matter of factly.
“Woah! What’s the technique – can you show me?” He winced as he got his feet under him to stand up, his back and ribs protesting. Once standing, he gazed down in awe at his assailants who looked as though they were sleeping peacefully.
“Humans do not possess adequate strength. Why did they attack you?”
For a moment, Jim was disappointed with the answer, but then he noticed that for once, Spock’s face showed something other than his blank expression; it looked like concern. “They’re just bullies who don’t like the fact that I’m smarter than they are, and find school easy.”
The expression was on Spock’s face intensified as his eyebrows shot up. “The ability to acquire knowledge is to be lauded. Their actions are highly illogical.”
“Yeah, well Humans are like that,” Jim said a little defensively, feeling a bit annoyed at his friend’s superior attitude. It was far from the first time since they’d met that Spock had judged Humans and found them wanting. He felt annoyed with himself too, knowing he should be grateful that he’d just been saved from a drubbing. “I’ve told you we do stuff that doesn’t always make a whole lot of sense. Bullying’s one of those things – you wouldn’t understand ‘cos Vulcans are above all that. C’mon, let’s get away from here before they wake up.”
“On the contrary,” Spock said, “I have experienced bullying first hand at my own school.”
Jim felt something bordering on shock wash over him as they began to walk away from the scene of the fight. “You did?” The idea seemed incomprehensible to him and try as he might, he couldn’t wrap his brain around the idea, couldn’t imagine such a dignified and logical race stooping to that. It went against everything he’d ever read. “Why were they bullying you?”
As they walked, Spock stared at the ground with unfocused eyes, and the silence between them stretched so long Jim didn’t think he was going to answer. Finally, he glanced up and gazed at Jim, an expression of resolution on his face, as though he’d come to some kind of decision. “My mother is Human—”
“Really?” Jim interrupted in utter surprise. He didn’t know Vulcans took non-Vulcan partners, had never read that anywhere. “Cool!” Jim grinned.
Jim’s reaction seemed to take Spock aback. But he quickly covered any surprise, continuing, “Because I am not fully Vulcan, the matter has been the source of atypical behavior among a number of students at the educational facility I attend.”
“You’ve been bullied, too,” Jim interpreted. “What – do they taunt you, or beat you up?”
“They attempt, through taunts, to elicit an emotional response from me.” Jim noticed Spock’s skin darken and guessed whatever it was they said, was a source of anger or embarrassment for Spock. That in itself was a revelation – he’d never seen Spock so openly showing what he was thinking. “Epithets regarding my parents are the subject.”
“So what do you do when they start?” Jim was trying to imagine Spock attempting to out-logic them.
“On thirty four occasions, I ignored them. However, the last time they escalated their actions to include a physical stimulus and I reacted…violently, striking Stonn. A fight ensued.”
Jim couldn’t help it as a grin spread across his face, imagining his oh-so-upstanding and logical friend starting a scrap. Whatever they’d said must have been pretty bad for Spock to have let go his control enough to fight. Looked like bullies were the same wherever.
“It is not a matter for amusement,” Spock chided. “Such reactions are inappropriate and are taken most seriously.”
“You got a lecture from your dad,” Jim interpreted. Spock nodded, looking surprised that Jim could read between the lines. “Were you grounded?”
“I am unfamiliar with the term.”
“Did you have privileges removed…?” Jim thought about the things Frank did when he was in trouble. “…like you’re not allowed to go out to play with your friends, or get your favorite games taken away.”
“My punishment was to read Surak’s second construct on the necessity for the domination of logic over emotion and to write an essay on how I will apply it if I should ever again find myself emotionally compromised.”
That sounded heavy-going, even without reading it. Jim had discovered when he was researching Vulcan that some of the material on the nets was tinder-dry and hard to follow, even for his agile brain.
“Man, that sucks,” he said in sympathy.
Something changed in Spock’s face, a softening of his mouth and his eyes almost glittered – Jim realized his friend was showing genuine amusement for the first time.
“Yes, it did.”
Jim let out a bark of laughter, finding Spock’s agreement funny. “I reckon you understand more than you let on,” he concluded. “I didn’t figure you to have a sense of humor.”
“I do not.” The denial was less than emphatic and Jim took it with a grain of salt.
“If you’ve got a Human mother, I’m guessing you understand us illogical Humans a lot better than you let on.”
The silence that followed was answer in itself, and Jim grinned again.
“I am conflicted regarding my mixed heritage,” Spock admitted.
“Don’t let the bullies make you feel bad, Spock.”
“I am not ashamed, Jim. I have chosen the Vulcan way, however but my Human genetics interfere with my path. A full Vulcan would not have resorted to violence – they would have controlled their emotion.”
“Like those Vulcan kids controlled their mouths?” Jim asked, angry on Spock’s behalf. “Don’t you see? I read about IDIC when I was studying Vulcan. You guys are supposed to believe differences are cool. So I don’t get it – if your people believe in that, why were those kids taunting you?” Jim had one of his moments of insight. “You know, I don’t think it’s about you, Spock. It’s about them.”
Spock stopped dead on the sidewalk. “You believe that?”
Jim could see something on this face – hope? Had Spock really thought he was less than them because he was half Human? It was hard for Jim to believe, but all the evidence pointed that way.
“Yeah, I do. Where’s the logic going on about your differences when IDIC is supposed to be all about celebrating differences. It doesn’t make sense, unless you look at the bullies. You should research it while you’re here.”
“Your idea has merit,” Spock conceded and began to walk again.
“It’s hard to picture you fighting,” Jim said into the silence.
“It is not my proudest moment – it was an unforgiveable lack of control.”
Jim shrugged. “Sometimes you gotta do what you’ve gotta do.”
“Violence is never the answer Jim.”
“Works for me,” he said, simply.
“Is that the reason your brother referred to you as a ‘hothead’ the first day we spoke?”
“Pretty much, yeah. He likes to keep himself to himself; stick his nose into books for hours on end. He doesn’t get me.”
“Of those upon whom you have perpetrated an act of violence, has their undesirable behavior ceased?”
“Oh hell, no. But at least I don’t come across as a wimp.”
“Then perhaps you might consider that it is not, as you say, ‘working for you’. You are a fine chess-player, and I believe you will come to be a master strategist and tactician. Those are the skills which win battles, not brute force. When you are aggressive, your higher faculties are short-circuited and you are unable to make rational decisions – it is akin to a temporary madness. You would do well to maintain control and identify a more effective means to extricate yourself from an undesirable situation.”
“How do you know so much?” Jim wondered aloud, as he tried to imagine, how he might use strategy and tactics against the likes of John Redowski and his friends.
“I made a study following the incident. While my brain is eighty three percent Vulcan, there are Human elements I wished to understand more about.”
“You think it was those Human elements which made you lose control…made you wanna fight?”
Spock looked down, as though unable to meet Jim’s eyes. “I had wished for it to be so. However, it was my Vulcan, not my Human heritage, which was the key influence. The reason we revere logic over emotion is because my race is capable of feeling too much. From our infancy we are taught to control. Perhaps, if you wish it, I can teach you how to exert better control over your more aggressive urges.”
Jim considered it and couldn’t see any harm done. It would also mean getting to spend more time with Spock, something he would never turn down. “Yeah, okay. Cool.”
~ = ~
Jim sat cross-legged in front of Spock in his bedroom. It was the first time his friend had visited him at his house and with Sam being out, it would mean no unplanned interruptions.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Jim admitted, “you know, control my emotions like you do.”
“I am not suggesting you control to the extent a Vulcan does, not only is it not the Human way, but your species lacks the necessary brain structure to achieve the state Vulcans are able.”
“We’re not weak, you know. Humans can—”
“Jim,” Spock interrupted. “I was not judging Humans, merely stating a fact. This leads us to what I wished to say regarding emotions. In order to control them, you must first understand them. I was taught that at a fundamental level, all emotions are derived from two sources – love and fear. In essence, you are not going to attempt to control a range of emotions, merely those two.
“The instinct in most species is first to fear, and Humans are no exception; however, it is a survival mechanism which Humans have outgrown. In the distant past, assuming danger in every situation, assessing and preparing for it ensured longevity of life. However, many illogical acts are perpetrated as a result of fear-based behavior.”
Spock paused and Jim considered his words. He’d never really thought about what motivated him to act the way he did. It kind of made sense when he considered it.
“Your father,” Spock continued, and Jim felt his hackles automatically rise, “faced down an adversary who sought to kill without apparent motive. The Romulan did so out some form of fear, causing him to open fire without provocation; perhaps fear of retribution from his military superiors if he did not, or a sense of feeling inferior that required he prove to others that he is a strong and courageous warrior. By contrast, your father’s final action was one based on love – his attempt to save as many lives as possible, including that of you and your mother.”
Dad loved me. He turned the thought over in his head. Until now, his father had been an unknown and remote figure who Jim had never known, and who his mother still mourned for; one who everyone described as the big hero, that everyone said Jim should grow up to be like.
His mom had tried to talk to him about his dad when he was younger, but it was an uncomfortable subject between them and he hadn’t paid attention. Jim was well aware that he reminded his mom of George – he’d seen photos of his dad as a kid and they could easily have been brothers. So, every time she looked at him, she saw her dead husband.
It was an epiphany of sorts that brought about an unexpected inner peace. His father suddenly morphed from being some remote guy who had deserted Jim, to being someone who had committed the ultimate act to give him a chance at life. It was the first time in Jim’s young life he had seen the act from anything but his own perspective.
“I kinda get the bit about controlling your fear, but you’re saying Vulcans control all emotion – even love? Isn’t love a good thing?”
“We believe that actions should be based on rational thinking, not emotion. While love, in and of itself, is a positive emotion, it still has the ability to cloud judgment. Tell me, Jim, what is your greatest fear?”
The dark. But Jim wasn’t about to say that to Spock. “I dunno,” he shrugged. “Uh, getting bad grades in school?”
Spock looked at him for several seconds. “You need not share it with me. Once you identify your fears, and recognize which actions stem from that emotion, you are halfway to conquering them. Where the fear is irrational, you will be able to use your thinking – your logic – in order to overcome it. Where it is real, you will be able to maintain a clear head in order to determine the best way in which to deal with it, in a calm and effective manner.”
It all sounded so easy. Was it really as simple as that? “I guess I could try it,” he conceded, since he had nothing to lose. “Did you really have to learn all that when you were a kid?” he wondered aloud.
“The control of emotion is the first thing we are taught as infants, initially through telepathy. Arei’mnu – the mastery of emotion – remains a lifelong goal.”
Jim considered that – comparing it to Human infants who freely expressed their emotions with no control. It seemed almost unnatural to think of a child who never laughed or cried and then he got what Spock meant – it really wasn’t the Human way. But considering the number of times he later regretted some of his emotional reactions, he could see the benefit of learning some techniques.
With a sense of resolve he asked, “So what do I have to do?”
“Are you familiar with meditation…?”
~=~
The ambush, two days later, came out of no-where. Having left school late after going to the gym, he was on the road leading to his home when John Redowski, his older brother and several other boys grabbed Jim from behind. Despite Jim’s ferocious kicking, punching and biting, they managed to subdue him enough to get him into the back of a van, driven by John’s older brother, Stef, who could apparently reach the pedals to drive.
“Where the fuck are you taking me?” Jim asked enraged. He’d stopped trying to escape – he knew as well as they did he wouldn’t be able to get out once the vehicle was moving.
“You’ll see, Jimmy. We’ve got something special lined up for you. See if your Vulcan side-kick can rescue you this time.”
The mention of Spock caused Jim to think about the lesson he’d had. The blind rage he felt at the fucktards who’d abducted him gradually seeped out of him as he applied the simple calming technique Spock had taught him, trying hard to empty his mind of any thoughts. As it dissipated, he felt his brain kick into gear.
After a minute Jim was already in better spirits and he found himself having to suppress a smirk at the memory of the three boys left lying on the sidewalk, no doubt discovered by some passer-by. He wished he knew what the end to that story was.
Whatever happened, he reasoned, he was certain they were unlikely to go too far with him – he could expect to be beaten up, because they would surely want revenge on him for what Spock had done. But they wouldn’t deliberately endanger his life. They were stupid, but not that stupid.
What he needed was information. He began to pay attention to the journey – they’d been going at least five minutes already, so weren’t out of town just yet.
“You know you’ll get into big trouble if you hurt me bad,” he said to no-one in particular.
“Only if you tell,” John responded. “Which wouldn’t be a good idea.”
Jim remained silent, knowing the threat was empty. John and his pals were bored delinquents. He considered what types of fear they must have to be acting this way. Given the comment John had made before, probably a sense of not being good enough, not being bright enough. Jim knew Mr. Redowski was a strict father and would likely strongly discipline his sons if he knew what they were up to.
The van came to a halt and before Jim could react, John and another older boy had grabbed him, using their superior height and weight to subdue him.
When the back door opened, he was temporarily blinded by the light of the sun as it sat just above the horizon. They had parked up on someone’s land, though Jim didn’t recognize it. It was only when they bundled him out, it was with dawning horror that he guessed what they were doing.
The Old House had stood on the edge of Riverside for countless generations and had been empty and dilapidated for years, rumored to be haunted. He guessed what they were going to do – leave him there, lock him up inside. It wasn’t the idea that it was haunted that plunged Jim into a deep well of fear – he didn’t believe in ghosts – it was because it would soon be dark and there was no way a place like that would have any power to it.
Ever since the accident when he was five, he’d been afraid of darkness, ironic given he was born in the blackness of outer space. Not even water bothered him, even though he’d nearly drowned while ice-skating on ice thawed out by an early onset of Spring.
Sam didn’t seem to have any fears and still teased him about the fact he had to have a ‘safe’ light on in his room at night. When Frank was in one of his mean moods, he sometimes cut off power to Jim’s room so that he had to sit up all night at the window where – even when there wasn’t much of a moon – there was always enough light outside to see something.
Out of sheer desperation, Jim began to punch and kick hard, trying to escape his captors. Stef appeared with a length of rope and before Jim knew it, he was trussed up, the rope round him, pinning his arms to his sides, and his legs together.
They carried him into the house – how had they gained access? He’d always assumed the place was locked up. The house smelled musty and damp and he struggled anew, even though he knew it was a waste of time. How long were they going to leave him there?
Jim was carried to a small room at the back of the house – a large walk-in pantry with no windows. In the dim light that came from a window in the room beyond, Jim could see that aside from shelving around the walls, the room was bare.
He was dropped unceremoniously onto the dusty floorboards. “This’ll teach you to mess with us,” John hissed between clenched teeth. “Let’s see how the big hero’s son deals with a haunted house for the night. And if you tell anyone what we did, what we’ll do next will make this look like a walk in the fucking park, get it, Kirk?”
Jim looked up from the floor at the faces that stood around him. There was a nasty tone to John’s voice – one he’d never heard before. He gulped and nodded his head, his eyes wide with shock and fear.
“This,” John said, kicking him in the ribs, “is for what that fucking alien did.”
Jim grunted as pain shot through him and he curled protectively into a fetal position. It didn’t stop him getting kicks from the other boys, to his back and legs. Then, they were gone, the door closing and a lock turning behind them. Jim was plunged into complete darkness.
He was petrified, his mind conjuring up unimaginable demons. It felt like the dark was swallowing him up, so he couldn’t breathe and then he remembered how he had drowned in the dark depths of the water, under the ice. He found out after, he’d been clinically dead for twenty four minutes before he was rescued and successfully resuscitated. The cold water had prevented brain damage and when he’d finally come to, all he could remember – not the water – was the dark, and an utter sense of aloneness and isolation. The place he’d been for those twenty four minutes.
He realized he was hyperventilating when he was on the verge of passing out, his body shot through with pins and needles. Tears flowed down his face until his body was wracked with sobs.
And then, from no-where, he saw Spock’s face in his mind’s eye, gazing at him, concerned, and he remembered the lesson, how to achieve calm, how to silence the mind, the thoughts that drove his emotions, his fears.
With long shudders, he kept his eyes closed as he calmed himself. It was as if keeping them shut, he wouldn’t have to acknowledge he was in pitch darkness, as though he were choosing the dark.
After several minutes, he’d gotten his breathing under control and his mind calmed. Fear, Spock had taught him, was simply an emotion, one he had the power to control. Logically the dark itself could do him no harm. With an effort of will, he forced himself to open his eyes and truly acknowledge the situation he was in. He fully expected that open or closed, he would see nothing. So when he saw a white shape in one corner, a spike of adrenaline coursed through him as he reflexively rolled away. He may have yelled, but if he had, he wasn’t admitting to it.
His body clunked against a wall as he rolled beneath the shelving, dislodging a cloud of dust that brought on a sneezing fit.
“Um….hi,” came a small voice from the other side of the room when he’d finally got it under control.
Jim stared at the…ghost?...in shock, his whole body trembling. Did it really just say something, he wondered, or was that his overactive imagination.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the white blob explained. “But I seem to bring that out in everyone I meet.” It seemed to sigh.
Jim was too shocked to respond and realizing his mouth was hanging open, clamped it shut.
“Do you want help with that rope?” it asked him.
The question seemed to cut through his stupor. Could it really help him escape?
“What are you?” Jim asked, his voice unsteady as he tried to bring back the hard-won calm of a few minutes ago.
“What – well, I’m a ghost. My name’s Casper.”
“Casper,” Jim repeated in disbelief.
“Yes,” Casper agreed and floated towards Jim until he was in the middle of the small room. “There’s no need to be frightened of me; I’m a friendly ghost. So, what’s your name?” it asked.
“Jim,” he responded automatically, before he thought about how crazy this was. Was Casper a figment of his imagination?
“So Jim, want help with the rope?” the ghost asked again, floating even closer.
Jim squirmed but there was no-where to go.
It seemed to take no answer as a ‘yes’ and was suddenly at Jim’s side. It looked luminescent – must have been for him to see it in the dark, and was the shape of a small, chubby child, with big eyes and a smile that hadn’t waivered since Jim had first seen it.
He watched, wide-eyed, as it worked on the rope and suddenly he felt it loosen around his ankles.
“Can you roll so I can unwind it from your legs?” it asked. Jim was so grateful, he didn’t think to be shocked at what was going on.
Once the rope had been unwound from his legs, it loosened at the top. He made to stand to shrug it off, but fell back on his ass with a grunt of pain as circulation was restored to his feet.
“So why did they tie you up, Jim?” Casper asked.
“They’re bullies trying to teach me a lesson.” Now that he was standing, he could feel the bruises forming where they’d kicked him before leaving, rubbing a hand over his painful ribs. They didn’t hurt as bad as that time he’d broken a couple when he’d fallen out of the pear tree at the end of their garden. Since it was still pitch black, he sat back down, crossing his legs.
“Well, I think we should teach them a lesson, don’t you?”
Yes, he really wanted that. “How?”
“Well, I’m friendly, but my brothers, not so much. I can tell them about the boys who frightened my friend…you are my friend, aren’t you?” Casper asked uncertainly.
Jim grinned. “Yeah, we can be friends,” he agreed.
“So they love a bit of haunting – they’ll enjoy it,” Casper said with certainty.
He may be untied, but he was still stuck in a locked room without windows. At least he wasn’t freaking out about the dark any more. He sighed.
“What’s wrong, Jim?”
“I don’t know how long it’ll take before I’m rescued. I heard them lock the door before they left.” He realized he hadn’t checked, and standing up, he carefully made his way towards where he thought the door was, arms outstretched. His fingers encountered a shelf.
A moment later, Casper had floated to a point further along the same wall. “It’s here.”
Jim heard a handle turning. “You’re right – it’s locked. Hang on…”
The sight he was treated to was as astonishing as the moment he’d first seen Casper, as the ghost slipped right through the closed door as though it were open. It was like his body disappeared in parts, swallowed up by the door.
A loud click echoed through the room and the next moment, the door swung open with a creak, pushed by Casper. Jim could hardly contain his excitement and gratitude.
He ran out into the next room and flinging open the curtain, gazed at the moonswept garden outside.
“Thank you,” Jim said, turning back to Casper in relief. “How can I repay you?”
The ghost seemed to consider the question. “There is one thing…”
“Yes?” Jim asked.
“It’s Halloween in four days. I’ve never been trick or treating. Could I go with you?”
Jim laughed at the thought. “Yeah. I was thinking of asking another friend, a Vulcan boy called Spock. He’s never been either.” Jim hadn’t asked, but he was pretty certain Halloween wasn’t something celebrated on Vulcan.
“I’ve never met a Vulcan before. Cool!” Casper said with a grin. “Can you come by here and pick me up. I can go…as a ghost!”
“I think if people see you like that, you’ll scare them. I’ll bring a sheet and put it over you.”
At the front door, Jim turned back to Casper. “Can you really leave this house?”
“Yes, we can go anywhere. It’s just I seem to frighten people so I just stay here.”
Jim shook his head, with a smile. “I didn’t believe in ghosts before tonight and now here I am making friends with one like you’re real. Weird.”
“I am real,” Casper replied. “I just don’t have a body like you. Think of me like another alien.”
Jim felt sorry for him – he must have been very lonely stuck in the old, ramshackle house.
“Okay, I’ll come by at six o’clock on Tuesday. Deal?”
Casper nodded. “Deal.”
~=~
“Trick or treating?” Spock repeated. “I am unfamiliar with the term.”
Jim wasn’t surprised as he explained as much as he knew about the ancient festival. He knew Spock liked facts and data.
“I think not,” Spock responded when he’d done. “It would be unseemly to go begging for candy from others.”
“It’s not begging. People give it willingly.”
“Nevertheless, it is not an activity I, as a Vulcan, am comfortable participating in.”
“You’re half-Human,” Jim reminded him, feeling exasperated. If he was being this stubborn, goodness knows what how he was going to react to finding out about Casper.
“Even so, were my father to discover it – and it is unlikely in this small community that Siuvek will fail to hear – he would likely lecture me on the importance of maintaining dignity and decorum and conducting myself in a manner befitting one of my species.”
A slow smile crept across Jim’s face. “So, we’ll disguise you – that’s the whole point, you’re in costume.”
~=~
Spock glanced critically at himself in the mirror. “I understood elves to be a tradition associated with the Holiday season.”
Jim thought Spock looked pretty good – the green costume suited him and he’d pushed the hat forward to not only cover his tell-tale haircut, but his eyebrows as well. Of course, he’d left the cute ears out.
“You look great,” he reassured as he stood next to him, adjusting his own hat and ensuring the fake parrot on his shoulder was upright. “Come on – we need to go meet a friend of mine,” he said, gathering up a sheet. “Shiver me timbers!”
Spock gave him an odd look that had Jim laughing. He really was going to miss his friend when he returned home soon.
+
The day had been a mild one, but now it was nightfall, the temperature was rapidly dropping. Jim could sense Spock’s uncertainty as they approached the Old House. “The residence appears deserted, Jim. Are you certain you have the correct address?”
“Positive,” Jim reassured. He stopped on the pathway. “Look, there’s one thing I didn’t tell you as I didn’t want you to think I’m insane.” Maybe he was – maybe he dreamed the whole thing. Well, not the getting home late, the angry words from Frank with the threat to ground him, or the bruises on his back and chest. But Casper?
“Indeed?” Spock asked, standing there still managing to look super-cool even in an elf costume.
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
Spock considered the apparent non-sequitur. “There is the Vulcan concept of the katra – the essence of each person, that aligns, somewhat, with the Human concept of the soul. However, the term ghost, as I understand it, has no equivalent.”
Jim decided from the answer he’d likely be open-minded. “I never told you what happened last Friday after school…”
Jim kept to the pertinent details, but emphasized how Spock’s lesson on controlling his emotions had helped him overcome his fear, and that since that night, he had slept successfully with the lights off.
“Did you report the boys to the authorities? Had they left you there, and you had been unable to escape, it is unlikely you would have been quickly found.”
“No, I didn’t. It’s not worth the trouble, Spock, honestly. I think they were going to come back and release me the next day. They probably did go back and found I’d gone.”
“Though it was not my intention, I am pleased the lesson we shared assisted you,” Spock said, apparently ignoring the most important part of the story. “I am concerned the bullies are escalating their actions.”
“But what do you think about the ghost?”
“You believe it was a ghost that freed you?” Spock answered the direct question, clearly skeptical.
“Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe. But you’ll see.” As if on cue, Casper came sailing through the front door, a happy smile on his face.
“You came back! I didn’t think you would.”
“Fascinating,” Spock said quietly behind him.
“Casper, this is my Vulcan friend, Spock.”
Casper floated around Spock and then landed in front of him. “Pleased to meet you, Spock.”
Spock politely inclined his head, sending Jim into a fit of giggles when the Vulcan’s cap almost fell off. If Vulcans could glare, that is the look Jim received, which only served to set him off again.
When he finally got himself under control, he held out the sheet for Casper, who slid under it effortlessly.
+
Since they were on the edge of town, they began at that end, only knocking on doors where there was a sign the owner was participating in the festival. The streets were full of children in every type of costume imaginable, some not as practical as others, younger ones accompanied by one or both parents.
No-one guessed Casper was a real ghost as they stood on each porch, talking to the home-owners. Everyone knew Jim and many asked how his mom was doing now she was back serving in space. It was a sore subject with Jim, as he missed his mom and didn’t like his step-dad, but he kept his thoughts to himself and answered each query cheerily.
Their candy bags gradually grew heavier, though Jim was eating about half of what he was given. Further into town, the houses were closer together, so before tackling them, they stopped for a break on the green, sitting on a bench near the pond.
“What do you think of Halloween so far, Spock?” Jim wondered aloud.
“I am uncertain why it is called Trick or Treat when the ratio of treat to trick is twenty four to zero.”
Jim shrugged and grinned. “I’m not complaining – means more candy for me!”
“I will not eat the sugared confections, so I will donate my share to you.”
Jim felt bad that Spock wasn’t going to get the benefit of their efforts. “Not that I’m complaining, but why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“As you know, my reason for visiting Earth was to experience the culture at first hand. This provided me with an ideal opportunity to observe the manner in which this festival is celebrated.”
“How ‘bout you, Casper?”
“It’s even better than I thought,” came Casper’s voice from under the sheet. “It’s the first time I’ve left the house and not scared anybody, even though I’m a ghost!”
“A ghost disguised as a ghost,” Jim corrected with a grin.
“I hadn’t…uh-oh, here comes trouble.”
Jim didn’t ask how Casper could see given there were no holes in the sheet. A glance over his shoulder confirmed his comment, as John and Stef Redowski and a number of their friends walked rapidly towards them. “Shit.”
“Ahoy there!” John said as he looked Jim up and down. “Looks like we’ve struck gold.”
Jim began to deep breathe, wanting to show Spock he could control, even though every muscle in his body cried out for him to lash out at the idiot.
“So, who are your friends…?” John pulled Spock’s hat off. “The alien. I’m surprised you hang out with him, Kirk, considering it was a Vulcan who killed your big hero dad.”
Jim was aware that was a common misconception. “The ship that attacked the Kelvin was Romulan,” Kirk said through clenched teeth. Nothing much was known about the enemy ship, but the stricken StarFleet vessel did get them on visual long enough to identify their origin.
“Vulcan, Romulan – they all look the same,” he sneered. “They’re not Human are they?”
Beside him, Spock had gone very still and Jim hoped he wouldn’t do anything rash – despite the Vulcan’s superior strength, they were still well out-numbered.
“And who’s your other friend?” John asked and reached for the sheet. As he lifted it up, his face took on a comical look when he found no-one under it. “What the fuck?” he said, his head swiveling around looking for the third person.
“Where did he go?” Stef asked. “He can’t have disappeared.”
John dropped the sheet to the ground, looking confused. Walking right up to Kirk, and towering over him by six inches, he growled, “How did he do that, Kirk?”
“I’m a ghost,” came a disembodied, echo-y voice behind them. Jim thought it comical the way all the gang turned simultaneously. “You left Jim at my house a few days ago.”
“Yeah right,” sneered Stef and walking up to Jim, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. “Tell your friend to come out from wherever he’s hiding, or I’ll punch your face in.”
“As you wish,” came the voice. A moment later, three white ghouls appeared right beside the gang and let out a blood-curdling scream, as they stretched up until they were over three meters tall. As if in slow motion, they seemed to bend in half, leaning down towards the boys, their arms outstretched and a moment later, the gang dispersed, yelling and running in different directions.
Casper appeared beside Jim who had begun to laugh, watching as the ghouls herded the boys, one by one, into the pond, only leaving them once they were immersed, sending startled geese skittering across the water to the far bank.
“Oh god, oh god,” Jim wheezed, clutching his sides as tears streamed down his face. He spared a look at Spock, and found he was sporting an almost smile, clearly amused by what was going on.
Two ghouls, giving out occasional loud, harrowing screeches, chased John and Stef all around the green. The two boys who rarely exercised, if their size and flushed faces were anything to go by, looked like they were going to pass out – in shock or from exhaustion, Jim couldn’t tell. It was the one day of the year no-one would pay any attention to the wailing and screeches.
Finally, they too ended up in the pond, with the three ghouls lined up in front of them. The middle one finally spoke.
“You have broken into our home on four occasions and disturbed our peace; you also left our brother’s friend tied up alone. What do you have to say for yourselves?”
Stef looked to be about the same color as the sheet Casper had been wearing.
“Sorry?” Stef said, his voice quiet and trembling with fear.
“I am not the one you should be apologizing to. It is Jim you have wronged.”
Stef clearly had a problem telling Jim sorry and, instead, glared at him defiantly. “Say it!” the ghoul commanded, “or you will feel the consequences.” Even Jim felt the touch of an icy breeze come out of nowhere.
“Sorry,” Stef almost spat as he looked directly at Jim.
The ghoul floated over the water and reared up, causing Stef to step back suddenly. But he was in water and the sudden movement made him overbalance, his arms comically windmilling as he fell backwards to sink beneath the water. A second later he came to the surface, coughing and sputtering.
“You will tell Jim you are sorry and mean it. You will also promise on behalf of you and all your friends never to approach him, or harass him in any way again.”
“Sorry Jim, we’ll leave you alone from now on,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he stood wet and shivering. Jim was having a hard time keeping his face straight, but somehow managed.
“Come on Jim,” Casper urged. “My brothers will look after them – we’ve got more candy to get!”
~=~
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Jim said sadly. He was going to miss his Vulcan friend more than he was willing to admit.
“We will remain in contact. Perhaps you might venture to Vulcan one day. I would be…pleased…to show you my home so that you might see for yourself if my description was accurate.”
“Yeah, I’d like that,” Jim said and arched his eyebrow in emphasis – he’d been practicing ever since he’d first seen the Vulcan do it. Spock raised his own in surprise, in a mirror image.
“This trip has been most educational. I have learned more about the nature of bullying – that the issue lies with the perpetrators, not the victim as I had believed. I have also learned a great deal about my mother’s species and have confirmed the existence of non-corporeal beings with whom you share your planet.”
“Ghosts – we call them ghosts, Spock.”
“Indeed. However, Casper and his brothers are not, as Humans believe, the souls of the deceased, but are, in fact, of extra terrestrial origin.”
Jim was shocked at this news. “Seriously?”
“No, I have perpetrated an April Fool upon you, Jim.”
Jim rolled his eyes. “Spock, the reason it’s called APRIL fool is because that is the month when you do it - not November!”
“I see, there are clearly many gaps in my education. I will have to petition my father to return, next time for a longer stay.”
~=~
EPILOGUE
Jim was never bothered by bullies again. He remained friends with Casper, visiting him regularly at the house and introducing other children to him. He really missed Spock and he allowed nothing to interrupt their weekly vid calls. The following summer, Spock kept his promise and returned to Riverside, this time staying for three months. During his visit, he and Jim were inseparable.