Chapter 1

Tommy

Tommy Hosford was what you would call a big kid. And once you realized  his actual age, the adjective you would most likely use to describe him  would be huge. A month after his fourteenth birthday, Tommy stood at  six-foot three and three-quarter inches tall and weighed in at two hundred  and twenty-two pounds. Although he had the makings of a defensive  linebacker or power forward, Tommy didn't participate in any sports  activities in school and that suited the residents of Wakulla, Florida  just fine. 

There was something just not right with young Tommy. As the older folks  of town would often say, "that boy's tackle box is missin' a coupla'  lures". Not only was he the school bully, he filled in as the town  ruffian as well. If you had in your possession something Tommy Hosford  wished to own and you just happen to run into him while you were alone,  you'd just better be willing to hand over that item or be prepared to part  with a couple of teeth. 

Tommy's victims just weren't the children of Wakulla; they consisted of  the adults as well. Mr. Daniel Allen, who gave up six inches and sixty  pounds to Tommy, could personally attest to that fact. Mr. Allen had once  caught Tommy in the process of extracting his son Scott's allowance money.   

Daniel Allen had made the mistake of grabbing Tommy's shoulders from  behind. The big boy instantly turned, with Scott still in his grasp, and  cold cocked the elder Allen with a jarring right to the left eye. The  blow put him on the ground and gave him a shiner that lasted for three  weeks. Mr. Allen had convinced himself not to report Tommy to the police  because he had, after all, prevented him from taking the ten dollars and  it also would save him some unwanted embarrassment. 

Tommy Hosford was also a handful for his mother and had been so ever  since his birth. After 25 hours of painful labor, the doctor decided that  this big kid was just not going to fit through that small opening and the  thirteen pounds eight ounces of bouncing baby boy was delivered by  Caesarian Section. After Tommy, his mother made sure that she wouldn't be  having any more of the giant Hosford kin. Tommy's father, Bill Hosford,  and his two brothers, Tommy's uncles, were all big men. The smallest  being Ted, stood 6'6" two hundred and eighty-five pounds. Even Tommy's  aunt, Cassandra, was six feet tall. How Mrs. Eugenia Hosford gave birth  to and raised such large children was beyond Tommy's mother. All four  siblings had inherited that infamous Hosford mean streak, especially  Cassandra, who was considered by most to be the nastiest of the bunch.  

Cassandra Hosford Stevens White Morrow Vickers went through husbands like  a tornado through trailer parks. Married four times by her 32nd birthday, she had given birth to six average sized children, each  of questionable lineage between the four men. The running joke about town  concerning Cassandra's children was that none of them fit the likeness of  their given sir name. 

Cassandra Hosford buried her first husband under questionable  circumstances and collected a substantial insurance policy that provided  for her and her then two children well. The next three marriages all  ended in divorce with each husband claiming physical abuse.   

To make matters worse for Tommy's mother, Sarah, Bill Hosford went and  got himself killed in an automobile accident while driving home drunk one  night when Tommy was only three years old. Bill Hosford was not the  perfect husband. He would pay the bills and keep food in the pantry, but  he was known to not be able to keep his pecker in his pants and was also  known to toss little Sarah around when he got drunk, which was often.  

They lived comfortably on his salary, or at least they considered it  comfortable. Of all his siblings, Bill was considered the kindest and he  did love his son so. Sarah grieved for a long tome after his death  despite his shortcomings. 

Sarah hadn't been as fortunate as her sister-in-law in the fact that she  and Bill had not planned on his early demise. There was no life insurance;  just Bill's Social Security benefits to Tommy, which weren't enough to  make ends meet. Sarah worked as a receptionist for the only dentist in  town. She was able to eke out a living for her and her son, but that was  about it. She was constantly down on herself about not being able to give  her son more. But between working and trying to maintain a decent  household, Tommy practically grew up on his own. He barely saw his uncles  and aunt, which at times, she considered a blessing. Sarah had no  brothers and sisters of her own and both her parents had passed away.   

She had been to numerous meetings with principals, teachers and parents  about Tommy's behavior, but what was she supposed to do ---- spank him?  

She had long ago stopped any type of physical punishment with him. At age  nine he already was taller than her and outweighed her by several pounds.   And at that same age she had tried to punish him, but this particular time  he struck her back, knocking her to the floor. She never tried that again.   

Afterward, she did the best she could and just let him basically come and  go as he pleased. 

Sarah Hosford knew that all Tommy's problems were not just due to the  fact that he and his relatives were known to be ornery. She was aware of  the rumors circulating around town concerning Tommy's mental stability.   After all, Wakulla was only a town of 4,500 residents and once a rumor got  started, it wasn't long before the entire town got wind of it. She also  knew that what was said about her boy was more than just rumor. She could  remember clearly the time when he was six and in kindergarten that he  punched out little Becky Parks over a pack of Little Debbie Swiss Rolls.   Apparently, he had asked her to share her treat with him and she had  refused. Tommy reasoned aloud, "oh well, I'll just take the whole damn  pack then". He hit the little girl in the mouth so hard it that it  prematurely knocked loose one of her incisors and split her lip to the  point that she had to have it sewn up. When Sarah finally got Tommy home,  she asked him again, "why did you do something like that to a little girl?" He responded with his arms folded across his chest  and mouth pouting, "I didn't do it, the bad me did it!" Tommy used this  excuse for several years, later able to explain that when he got angry and  couldn't get what he wanted, it was like another person took over his  actions and usually terrible things happened.  

At times it would seem that he felt remorse for what he had done. He  would come home after one of many fights, unharmed of course, with his  opponents blood on his shirt and knuckles, storm up to his room and sit on  his bed pounding his knees while shouting, "why, why, why!"   

But what really bothered, and slightly frightened, Sarah about her only  son occurred when he was just ten years old. Puberty came early for  Tommy. He already had dense dark hair on his arms and legs at that age.   One night after coming home from grocery shopping, (it seemed as if she  were buying for three instead of two), upon entering the door with arms  full, she noticed Tommy sitting in the Lazy Boy watching the television.   She sat the groceries on the kitchen table and yelled, "hey can I get a  hand?" There was no response. Sarah walked into the den to catch her son  staring blankly into space, nibbling on his forearm.   

"Tommy?" she called.   

He was in another world. 

"Tommy?" She walked up to him and gently nudged. His eyes finally came  into focus. 

"What is it?" he said  "Can I get you to help me with these groceries that you're going to eat    most of?" 

"Yeah, yeah!" he answered and got up to lend a helping hand. 

It took her two days to notice the effect of his actions of that night.  

While they were eating breakfast, Tommy reached across the table to  retrieve the syrup and Sarah then noticed his arm. His entire forearm  looked as if he had taken a razor to it. There was not one strand of hair  to be seen, including on his knuckles. His arms also had several small  red blotches on them, obviously from where he had nicked himself with his  teeth. 

"Tommy!" Sarah said excitedly. "Look at your arm! How could you do such  a stupid thing!"   

She realized immediately that she shouldn't have stated the question so  bluntly.   

He got mad. 

With Mrs. Buttersworth firmly in his grasp, he cocked his arm back and  flung the bottle of maple syrup across the room like a relief pitcher in  the bottom of the ninth of a tie game with the bases loaded. The  projectile smashed into the wall, opening a large hole in the brittle  Sheetrock and shattering into a thousand sweet smelling sticking pieces.   

"They're my arms and if I don't want any hair on them that's my  business!" Tommy screamed as he grabbed his bookbag and stormed out the  door. 

Sarah sat there trembling. Sometimes he really frightened her.   

Four years after Tommy had started his strange ritual of biting the hairs  off his arms and hands; he began to hear the voice inside his head. This  voice assured him that he was okay and that everything would turn out to  be fine.

He wasn't as mean as everyone claimed him to be, in fact, he    would go on to accomplish great things in life. This voice was also able  to inform Tommy of who possessed certain items he might want to acquire  and where they might be... alone.

Sitting, as usual, in the rear of his ninth grade American History class,  Tommy Hosford had tuned himself out to what Ms. Carol Finley had been  discussing. He didn't realize it, but he was mowing down the few hairs  that had sprung up on his arm and listening to the voice talk to him. It  was telling him exactly where he could get that Zebco 888 fishing reel  that he wanted so badly but that his mother was unwilling to fork over the  fifty dollars for.

"Tommy", the soothing voice said. "It appears that Calvin Wheatley and  Johnathan Banks are going to be taking a little fishing trip this  afternoon to the river. Calvin just got the fishing apparatus that you  have been hoping for for his birthday. All you've got to do is threaten  him a little and it will be yours. He won't say a word to anyone.  

Neither will Johnathan. They'll both be too afraid. It'll be great!" The  voice was full of enthusiasm. "Just rough them up a bit and the reward is  yours".

The sudden burst of laughter brought Tommy out of his trance. 

"Well Tommy?" Ms. Finley asked him, holding a piece of chalk in her  hand. 

"Wha ...?" he mumbled. There was more laughter from his classmates.

With his peripheral vision, Tommy could see Calvin and Johnathan, who were  also sitting in the back row, mimicking him. They had placed their arms  up to their mouths and each boy had his eyes rolled up in his heads,  pretending to nibble at the hair on his arm. Tommy gave them an  intimidating glance and the boys stopped immediately. Laugh now while you  can, he thought, it won't be so funny this afternoon.

  "Can you name three of the men to originally sign the Declaration of  Independence?" she asked again. This time though, he was able to hear  her. 

"Uhhh.....no". 

"It appears that someone didn't read his assignment last night. This is  the last time... The bell sounded before she could finish her sentence  ending the class and the school day. The students rushed for the door  like a herd of stampeding bison.

"Don't forget your homework assignments for Monday!" Carol Finley  attempted to remind her class, but most had already forgotten. 

She shouldn't have embarrassed me like that Tommy thought outside the  classroom. He'd had a good mind to break her in two right there. Revenge  had set in and he knew exactly how he was going to get even.

His previous class had been with Mr. Filkins' who taught electronics. The  room was full of old radios, stereos and other electrical appliances that  students tried to repair. It also housed the necessary tool Tommy needed  to accomplish his task. He had planned to explain to Mr. Filkins that he  had forgotten a personal item of his somewhere in the room, but when he  got there, the room was empty. Mr. Filkins must have stepped out for  awhile. He'd have to move fast. Fortunately, he knew exactly where to  look. Tommy found what he wanted, put the tool in his pocket and hastily  left the room.

After retrieving his bike from the rack in front of the school, he rode  it around to the side of the building and the teachers parking lot. He  easily spotted Mrs. Finley's blue Jetta parked in the corner and made his  way over to it. He laid the bike down in front of the car away from the  school. Crouching over, as if he were a soldier in battle, he moved to  the driver's side of the car. The truck on his other side perfectly  blocked him from anyone's view. He removed the pliers from his pocket and  secured a firm grip on the air stem of the front tire and pulled hard, the  hissing of air escaping from the radials seemed to be amplified. He moved  to the rear tire and did the same thing. He smiled and mumbled, "bitch!"  With his new pair of pliers, he got back on his bike and headed home. 

Tommy's house was only two miles from the school and he made it home in  no time at all. He hadn't forgotten about Calvin and Johnathan. He was  only in the house long enough to drop off his bookbag and grab a sandwich  before he was back out the door again. Johnathan and Calvin should be at  the river by now he thought.

The Wakulla River is not one of the mighty flowing rivers of North  America. Its' murky tea colored waters gently flow only ten miles from  the heart of Wakulla County to the St. Marks River and then into the Gulf  Of Mexico in North Florida. Although it is small, it is teaming with  marine life and is known to be a remote paradise for fishermen, swimmers  and divers. Among some of the many creatures that have made this tiny  waterway its' home include the Florida Alligator, several species of  fishes and the endangered Florida Manatee. On this particular day it  would have been preferable for Calvin Wheatley and Johnathan Banks to run  into the rivers' many alligators than face what was in store for them.  

For unlike the aggressive actions of the fierce reptile, which is  completely natural and necessary for it to survive, the adversary they  were about to face actions were deliberate and completely evil. And it  had a name. And that name was none other than Tommy Hosford. 

So far Calvin and Johnathan were having a pretty good day. By the time  Tommy arrived, they had filled their cooler with an assortment of trout,  bream and catfish. It was one of, if not the best, days they had ever  recalled. With any luck, their good fortune would continue. They couldn't  have been more wrong.

Tommy knew where the boys would be located. The voice had told him so. The  small wooden pier jutting into the dark water was a hot spot for young  anglers. Today however, they were alone. Tommy pulled up quietly, got  off his bike and leaned it against a tall pine tree. He could see the two  boys sitting on the edge of the pier with their pant legs rolled up. Their  feet hung in the water and the picture reminded Tommy of the story of Tom  Sawyer and Huck Finn. What a couple of dorks, he thought. He quietly  walked the thirty feet to the pier unnoticed and was suddenly towering  over them, his shadow eclipsing Calvin. Thinking that a cloud was passing  over, Calvin looked up, shocked at what he saw. 

"Tommy!" He almost screamed.

Upon hearing the name, Johnathan also turned to see the behemoth standing  there. They both slowly stood each knowing that any sudden move would  mean trouble. 

"How's it goin' girls?" Tommy said with a sly grin. "You know girls,  that was a pretty funny thing you were doin' in class today".

"Whatcha' talkin' bout Tommy?" Johnathan asked, swallowing hard.  "You know goddam well what I'm talkin' about. Don't think I didn't see  you", Tommy spat out, his right hand now a fist. 

"C'mon Tom, we was just kiddin', we didn't mean nothin' ", Calvin said. 

"Oh yeah", Tommy snapped. With his left arm, he grabbed Calvin's collar  and yanked him to within an inch of his face.

"Well here's a little joke of mine. You see that new reel you got! It's  mine now! Or else I'm gonna stomp you right into the ground! The both of  you!"

"Hey! You just can't come here and take out stuff. There's two of us  and..."

Like a striking rattlesnake, Tommy's right hand jumped out, catching  Johnathan squarely in the jaw and sending him and his fishing gear into  the water. Seeing his friend go over in the water, Calvin became even more  frightened.

"But, but what'll I tell my dad. He just paid fifty bucks for this  reel!"

"Tell him you lost it in the river for all I care. But if I hear  anything about it, I swear I'll stomp you to a pulp".

He loosened his grip on Calvin so that he could dismantle the rod and  reel. Johnathan had swum to the riverbank and was avoiding any further  confrontation. After removing the reel, Calvin reluctantly handed it over  to the much larger boy. 

"Here", Calvin said, a well of tears in his eyes. 

"Thanks a lot punk", Tommy responded and then shoved Calvin off the pier. 

"Oh yeah, and don't forget these!" As hard as he could, he kicked the  Styrofoam cooler and its' aquatic captives back into the cloudy Wakulla. 

Chapter 2

Zachary

  Zachary Miller sat on the steps of his new home with his best friend  Michael. Once again, he was attempting to get Michael to explain why he,  Zachary Miller, was so special. As far back as he could remember, Michael  had always been there in his life, telling him what he could and could not  do. Although his powers allowed him to create practically anything with  his mind, Zachary understood that Michael could intervene when necessary  ----- until he was older of course. But other than his fascinating powers  of thought, Zack was just an ordinary ten-year who loved to hear the  story.

"Well Zachary", Michael stated, "it's like this. By now, I'm sure you've  seen people that appear to be missing certain things about them. They  might not have their sense of sight or hearing. They might not be able to  walk or talk. They might not seem to be aware of anything at all.  

Sometimes, some people seem to be more intelligent than others are, or  they may be able to brilliantly play an instrument without ever having  touched it before. All these types of people are special. To us, it  might seem cruel that God denied sight to someone or made someone more  intelligent than the rest of us. But there is a reason for His actions,  even though we don't know what that reason may be. God gave you a special  gift Zachary, a gift that allows you to make something just by thinking  about it. There have been few like you Zachary".

"Is that why you're here Mike? Because they're not a lot of people like  me?" Zack asked.

"In a way that's true Zachary", Michael responded. "But mostly, I am  here to make sure that you don't abuse your awesome power". Michael  paused momentarily, then continued on. 

"Zachary, do you remember the time you wanted to make the rocket ship in  your back yard at the old house and fly to the moon?"

"Yeah, that was cool", Zack said excitedly. 

"Well we can't have things like that happening. Do you remember the  things you aren't allowed to do Zachary?" Michael was testing him.

"Of course Mike", Zack said while rolling his eyes. Don't make things in  front of people. Don't wish for things when I'm mad. Make sure it's okay  with you first".

"And most importantly Zachary?"

"Oh yeah! I almost forgot. Don't try to bring back dead stuff!" 

"Very good Zachary", Michael said. "Also remember, I won't always be  there. That's why I have to make sure you know all these things well for  when you become an adult".

"I renember", Zack said, pronouncing the first 'm' of the word as an 'n'.

"Hey Mike, would you like an ice cream sandwich? It's pretty hot  today".

"Sure Zachary, go ahead".

"Zachary Miller closed his eyes and the picture of two pair of chocolate  wafers filled with soft frozen vanilla ice cream came to his mind. 

There was a dull glow in his hands and seconds later the creamy treats  appeared. He handed one to Michael while taking a bite of his own.

"Thank you", Michael said. 

Before he took a bite, Michael looked at Zachary and said, "I've got to go  for now". In a blink, the boy had vanished. Zachary thought nothing of  it, he had seen this happen hundreds of times before. A half-second later,  Cathryn Miller opened the door.

"Come on in son, I'm about to go to the store and your father's not here  so you've got to go with me". She did not ask about the ice cream  sandwich.

Cathryn Miller thought her son was just an angel. Not just because he was  considerate, kind, loving, respectful and just a down right good boy. She  actually believed he was a product of divine intervention. When she had  gone into labor with him, she'd been so afraid. She'd heard stories of  women screaming with pain, wanting to take drugs to make the pain  disappear. She'd been told of all the things that could go wrong. The  baby could be born breached; the umbilical cord could be wrapped around  the child's neck, denying it precious oxygen. Her vaginal canal might not  be large enough to deliver the baby, and her worries went on and on. She  was terrified something would go wrong. 

Cathryn and her husband barely made it to the hospital in time. 

Sixty minutes after her water broke, Zachary Alexander Miller came  soothingly into this world. She barely felt a thing. She wasn't even  sure she had given birth until they placed the child in her arms. Zack  barely cried, he seemed so content so at ease. She knew that her baby was  staring directly at her, despite being told that a newborn couldn't focus  its' eyes. She just knew. And she was right.  Her first solid evidence that her son was special came four months before  his first birthday.

Zachary had a favorite mobile that hung over his crib. It was a hand me  down from her sister, but Zack loved it nonetheless. It was full of  bright colors and different shapes and was suspended on string and when  wound up played 'Rock-a-Bye-Baby'. When the music played, the shapes would  revolve in circles and Zack would laugh and kick and clap his hands. On  its' last day, when Zack's father was winding it up, the spring mechanism  decided to call it quits. The knob and spring and the rest of the toy's  insides shot out onto the floor. Zack's father decided to take the toy  off the crib, discard it, and buy his son a new one. It wasn't until the  next day, after her husband had gone to work that Cathryn noticed the  mobile was back on the bed. As she was in the kitchen preparing her son's  breakfast, she heard the music playing and rushed to see the bright colors  and shapes twirling above the child's head. She knew her husband couldn't  have replaced the mobile overnight ----- they were together the whole time. She also knew that no one else had  known the toy had been broken. When Cathryn was noticed by Zack, the  music stopped and he pulled himself up to greet his mother. Cathryn  inspected the toy and saw immediately that there was something different  ----- This mobile had no wind up mechanism. 

She thought it was a miracle.

As a small child, Zack was never at a shortage of toys. He had a special  affinity for teddy bears. They would pop up so much that the Millers were  giving them away by the bag full. Cathryn had come to the conclusion that  the toys were a gift from God to Zack. There was no other explanation.   She felt that they should tell the world and let it be known that God is  alive and well.

"What would the harm be?" She had asked.

Everything that he had acquired had been innocent and harmless. It  wasn't as if he were conjuring up nuclear weapons,(although he could have  if he wanted to and had known what they were). To her it was all due to  divine intervention. And she was partially right. 

Zack's father did not agree.

Sure there was something special about the boy, but he wasn't convinced it  was of a heavenly nature. He also didn't want the attention it would  bring to all their lives. The government would most definitely want them  all taken away to some secret lab where they would be poked and prodded  like lab rats. There would be a million questions from physicians,  scientist and psychiatrist. And then on top of everything else would be  the bombardment of the news media. Headlines of 'Alien Experimentation'  and other such nonsense would be all across the front pages of magazines  like the National Enquirer and the Globe. Perhaps worst of all, would be  the thousands, possibly millions of people who would want to touch Zack  and ask him for things. Their lives would never be the same. As long as    things stayed pretty much normal, he didn't want to say a word. There had  been no incidents at school or in public yet, so he figured it was best to  keep a lid on their little secret until they were not able to handle the situation, which he prayed the time would  never come. So far the Millers had been extremely lucky.

Zack had handled the move to the small town of Wakulla, Florida fine so  far. He had been born in St. Augustine and had lived there all his life.  

There was a big difference in the two places. One of course, was that St.  Augustine was much bigger, and during the summer months was packed with  tourist visiting America's oldest city. He remembered the attractions  well. The legendary Fountain of Youth, which Ponce de Leon thought he had  found, Ripley's Believe It Or Not Museum full of strange oddities and his  personal favorite, the Old Spanish Fort overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.

St. Augustine was also in close proximity to larger places like  Jacksonville, Daytona and just a couple hours drive to Orlando. He had  especially remembered the time his dad had taken him to watch the lift off  of the Space Shuttle Columbia at Cape Kennedy, in fact it was then that he  got the idea for the rocket ship that Michael had prevented him from  pulling out of thin air.

Wakulla was the exact opposite, although it did have its' own tourist  attraction. A lot of Wakulla County consisted of the Appalachicola Nation  Forest. The closest city of any size was Tallahassee, 30 miles to the  north. The small town of Wakulla didn't even have a Burger King or  Wendy's, Zack had told his dad. They'd have to drive all the way to  Tallahassee for that, which his dad did often, being that he worked for  the state government. On weekends when he was required to go into town  held take Zack and his mom when he could. They had only been in town a  week, and in fact were still unpacking things from the move. Zack was  able to quickly find a couple of friends he could play with that were his  age and of course there was still Michael. The one thing he did like  better was the house. It was an old colonial style split level and a lot  bigger than the one in St. Augustine. The house even had a white picked  fence to match its' exterior. The yard was speckled with towering pines and huge oaks with thick southern moss hanging from the  limbs. The oldest of the oaks was equipped with an old tire that hung  from a thick rope. Zack had easily learned to make it his favorite. His  mother had fallen in love with the abundant azaleas that covered the thick  Bermuda lawn in all the right places. Whoever had owned the house  originally certainly knew a thing or two about landscaping. All in all,  Zack figured he could get used to living here and in fact he already  had.