This is a story that I wanted to write for a very special friend who happens to be not only a sweet and beautiful person, but a very kind and gentle soul. As of late, she has been a positive influence in my writing, thus the reason for this story. And while it is total fiction, I can only hope this story will honor her as much as she has honored me.
MoogPlayer
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Every once in a great while; God puts people in our path that make a difference in our lives, for the rest of our lives. This is the story of one such person....
Chapter One
My name is Scott Powers; I'm 6'2", and weigh 215 lbs. I have dark brown hair and eyes, and I'm 45 years old. I'm an only child, not because my parents couldn't have any more children after I was born, but because they died in an airplane crash when I was a little over a year old. Don't feel sorry for me, because I was too young to remember them. Still though, I really wish I could've known them.
Aunt Lauren, Mom's twin sister, and her husband, my Uncle Mike Anderson took me in without a second thought when my real parents were killed so, they're the only parents I've ever known. Lauren and Mike, as they tried, with no avail, to make me call them once I was grown, could never have any children of their own; and needless to say, they spoiled me a little bit, but not too much. They're good people and they taught me great values, morals and ethics, not to mention, showered me with love and affection.
Uncle Mike was a structural engineer and opened his own firm, which began to do extremely well in just a short amount of time. He was a good male role model for me as I grew into manhood, always there to answer any questions I might have. When the time came that I wanted to know about sex, I was never once made to feel uncomfortable about asking questions of an explicit nature. I knew that I would always be given an honest answer, and that Uncle Mike's discretion was iron clad. In other words, he would die before he betrayed my trust.
Aunt Lauren was an illustrator for a publisher who dealt strictly in children's books who, and she didn't know until later, also inspired me to want to be an author. And I'll forever remember when I was a little boy, her letting me sit and watch her draw characters from whatever story she was illustrating at the time. I knew not to disturb her and to just sit and watch. However, when she would get any kind of story that would, in any way, involve monsters, I knew that my expertise would always be called upon. I helped her create most of the monsters in more than several different children's books that are still popular today.
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When I was in the fifth grade, my teachers noticed that I had an affinity for being able to write extremely well so, my Aunt Lauren saw to it that this 'ability' was nurtured. You see, I had always enjoyed reading, and I could always be seen around the house, or at school, with a book in my hand. Literature took me to far away places with the simple turn of a page, and I loved it.
Of course, my teachers loved me, but by losing myself in books all the time; it more or less crippled my social skills. The other kids pretty much paid no attention, which was fine with me, as I had seen the way all the guys acted around the girls, and the way the girls snubbed them at every given opportunity. I thought they were all idiots and had no time for such bullshit.
In our school system, elementary school consisted of grades, Kindergarten through Fourth. Then there was middle school which consisted of grades, Five through Nine so, when I entered high school, I was in the Tenth grade.
The morning before I left for school, I was getting all of my stuff together when, out of the blue, Aunt Lauren caught me right before I walked out the front door.
"I just wanted to let you know how proud we are of you, Scotty," she said, putting her arms around me, "And I know that your mother and father would be very proud of you, too, if they were here."
My Aunt Lauren has long dark brown hair and eyes like my mother, duh, they were identical twins, and like my Mom, Aunt Lauren is very beautiful. So, after kissing me on the cheek, like she's always done for as far back as I can remember, I held her at arms length, and smiling, replied, "I'm sure that my parents would be proud, but you're the only mother I've ever known, and you'll always be my Mom, Aunt Lauren."
"With happy tears raining down her pretty cheeks, she swatted me on the butt, and with a giggle, said, "I love you, ya little shit. Now, go and have a good day at school, sweetie."
"I love you, too, Aunt Lauren," I smiled, as I left for school.
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My first year in high school was pretty good. I managed to make a couple of friends along the way, and it made my time there feel less like the social Siberia I had been experiencing throughout the previous years in school up to this point.
That was also the year I got my driver's license, and because of a trust fund set up for me by my maternal grandmother before I was born; it had matured upon the death of my parents so, Uncle Mike saw to it that I had a brand new, Midnight Blue, Corvette Stingray convertible that was fully loaded. "These cars don't depreciate, Scotty," he said, "They just get better if you take good care of them."
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There were many good looking girls in my grade, as well as the grades above me, but I was really shy around them and never really thought about asking any of them out. However, that was also the same year that I met a very pretty girl who was one grade ahead of me; and her name was Claire Rogers.
She was 5'6", had long dark brown hair, deep blue eyes; and was built like the proverbial brick shit house. Her measurements, she later told me, or I should say, I later discovered first hand, were 37D-24-36. Overall, she was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, whom I met under a very surprising, yet very pleasant, set of circumstances. I'd briefly seen her at school, but like I said before, I was very shy back then so; I was certain that she didn't even know who I was, nor had she even noticed me.
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Like all high schools, we had a Drama department, and I had always been interested in the theater. I'd read some of the works of people like William Shakespeare, Arthur Miller, and Tennessee Williams, among a few others.
Early during the first semester of my first year in high school, I noticed a flyer on the wall near my locker one morning that was announcing open auditions for "The Wizard of Oz" at three o'clock that afternoon. I had always wanted to try my hand in the theater so; I called home and told Aunt Lauren that I would be late coming home that day, and why.
"Oh, Scotty," she smiled, once I'd told her, "I think that's wonderful, sweetie."
"I hope that I'm not too embarrassed," I said, "The flyer said that you have to sing."
"Scotty, honey," she giggled, "I've heard you singing in the shower, and you have a wonderful voice. I think you'll do great."
"Do you really think so, Aunt Lauren?"
"Go for it," she said, "Besides, that was your favorite movie when you were little, you knew every word to every song, and; I'd imagine that you probably still remember them, too."
"Okay," I laughed, knowing she was right, "Why not?"
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That afternoon I found myself walking into the theater with about twenty-five other people, each one hoping to land a role in the up-coming musical. As soon as the doors closed behind me, everyone turned to look at me.
"Are you lost?" asked some smart-assed girl, whom, it was apparent she was a senior as she was wearing a school letter jacket with drama award patches all over it.
"No," I solidly replied, "The flyer said that there was an audition today."
"You have to earn the right to be here," she snarled, "Besides I don't think you have what it takes to pass an audition, much less be here at all."
"Leave him alone, Cindy Donaldson," a female voice spoke from somewhere behind me, "He has as much right to be here as you do."
I turned around and that's when I met a beautiful angel. "Hi," she smiled, "My name is Claire Rogers. What's yours?"
"H...hi," I stuttered, "Scott...my name is Scott Powers."
