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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Charles and Margaret's home
March 27, 1970
Sitting in a chair by the chipped window ledge, with her legs curled up underneath her, Catherine Parker's hand moved gracefully across the paper on which she was writing. Three simple words ended the letter:
Love always,
Mom
Catherine was in the upstairs bedroom of the simple ranch home of Charles and Magaret after her startling revelations about their son. She had been offered this room for as long as she needed when she was unable to tell them about what the scrolls in Carthis had read. Sighing, Catherine sealed the envelope and wrote on the front in beautiful cursive:
To my dear daughter
She hugged the envelope with the letter clutched beneath its seal to her heart and sighed, closing her eyes and reminincing.
*****
The Centre
February 15, 1970
"Well, after you explained to me what Valentine's Day was and gave me that candy heart that said 'BE MY VALENTINE,' I had to do something for you. Do you like it?"
"Oh yes, Jarod! Its beautiful," a younger version of Catherine Parker exclaimed excitedly as she read the Valentine's Day card a third time.
The young Pretender smiled happily, but then pouted, "Sydney didn't like it when I made him a card once."
Miss Parker sighed, "Grown-ups can be so weird sometimes. Who doesn't like a card? Especially one with money."
"Money? What would someone of our age do with it? Don't your parents provide you with adequate nutrition, shelter, and overall financial aid?"
Miss Parker rolled her eyes and giggled, "Candy, Jarod! Clothes! My daddy gives me money every year for my birthday. Momma never does though. She gives me real presents."
"When is your birthday?" Jarod pondered.
"January 3rd. When is yours?" she replied innocently, sitting next to him on his bed.
Jarod's face fell, "I- I don't know."
"You should ask someone. Ask Sydney," young Miss Parker suggested.
"Maybe I will."
At that moment, a tall brunette woman walked into the room smiling at the two children before her.
"Momma!" her child yelled excitedly with the kind of enthusiasm only a child can muster up in a matter of a second, "look at what Jarod made for me!"
Catherine peered down at the folded piece of paper her daughter was waving in front of her.
"Its wondeful, Honey. Did you say 'thank-you' to Jarod?" she gently asked her daughter.
"Of course I did," she assured her mother.
Jarod watched them strangely. He enjoyed watching the two together, so happy, and yet he envied the bond they shared, "Hello, Mrs. Parker."
Catherine smiled and sat down next to the Pretender, greeting him sweetly, "Hi, Jarod. How are you?"
Jarod shrugged, "Fine, I guess." The woman held his hand comfortingly.
"Jarod," Catherine began hesitantly, "I came to see you because- because I need your help."
"What do you want me to do?" Jarod replied mechanically out of habit.
Catherine's eyes expressed her sorrow at his blunt response, "I promise you, Jarod, you won't just be helping me. You'll be helping yourself and Miss Parker as well. I can't explain it now, but tonight, I will be back. I just want you to be ready. Okay, Jarod?"
Confused, the small boy replied, "Whatever you say Mrs. Parker."
Catherine nodded solemnly and walked out of the door clutching her daughter's hand who waved good-bye to her friend and began chattering about her busy day.
*****
Catherine stood above the little boy who was sleeping not so peacefully in his bed. Beads of sweat crept down his face. Knealing down, she whispered softly in his ear, "Jarod, wake up."
"Huh!" Jarod bolted up in his bed and clutched the sheets around him in panic.
"Its just me, Catherine." She brushed her hand back and forth down his back soothingly.
"Mrs. Parker. I'm sorry, I fell asleep. It won't happen again," he mumbled near incoherantly.
"Sweetheart," she clutched his hand, "its fine. You need to rest now and then. I'm sorry I'm pulling you out in the middle of the night--"
"Pulling me out?" Jarod backed against the wall his bed leant against.
Catherine sighed and pointed to the camera in the corner, "They can't see what I need you to do. They won't know. Don't worry. Now, come on and get dressed so we can get out of here."
Jarod nodded and Catherine reassured him with a small smile.
*****
After the ride to the Parker's home, Catherine lead Jarod to her own special room of the house. Stain glass reflected the dim light that flowed from each small lamp. Jarod looked around in awe at the paintings and brushed his hand over the keys of the piano, accidentally pressing one down to have a sharp C note fill the silence around them. His eyes widened and he smiled.
"You make sure that my daughter teaches you how to play it one day."
Jarod's smile lingered and then he turned to her once again, "So why am I here?"
"I need you to do a simulation for me," Catherine continued, "but The Centre can't know about it. That's why we're doing it here."
"Then, let's get to work," Jarod affirmed with a nod, sounding like a smaller Sydney.
"Okay," Catherine slurred out, "Well, I'm not exactly sure how I'm supposed to go about doing this, Jarod, so I have written on this piece of paper what I know. And this," she pointed to a group of lines, "is what I still need to know."
She cocked her head slightly and waited for a response. Jarod looked at her with the innocence of a child, but with the wisdom of a man.
*****
"I'm so sorry I have to do this, Jarod. I promise you its for your own good," Catherine mumbled to herself as she put the child into a hypnotic trance, "this way you'll remain innocent."
She snapped her fingers and Jarod's eyelids sprung open as expected. He looked around at the familiar surroundings of The Centre, "Mrs. Parker, what are you doing here?"
"Go to sleep, Jarod. Speak to no one of this, please. I'll be back to visit you sometime this week. All right?"
"Umm, okay," Jarod answered in confusion.
Catherine nodded and left the room, shutting the door as the light on the camera reappeared.
*****
"We don't often get visitors here, ma'am," the heavily Scottish-accented voice continued, "ya sure ya don't wanta turn yerself 'round now? That island there's a strange place."
Catherine looked around confidently from her view in the little motor boat as the mist clung to her hair and her blue scarf blew wildly in the wind, "I need to do this. Its a matter of life and death."
The man shook his head and sped up the boat, "I hope ye know what yer gettin' yeself into. Nothin' good comes from thar."
Catherine glanced at him and clutched her biceps against the cold, but said nothing. The man continued, "So what didja say you did?"
The brunnette looked ahead to the quickly approaching mass of land before her, "I'm just a visitor with a mission."
March 27, 1970
Sitting in a chair by the chipped window ledge, with her legs curled up underneath her, Catherine Parker's hand moved gracefully across the paper on which she was writing. Three simple words ended the letter:
Love always,
Mom
Catherine was in the upstairs bedroom of the simple ranch home of Charles and Magaret after her startling revelations about their son. She had been offered this room for as long as she needed when she was unable to tell them about what the scrolls in Carthis had read. Sighing, Catherine sealed the envelope and wrote on the front in beautiful cursive:
To my dear daughter
She hugged the envelope with the letter clutched beneath its seal to her heart and sighed, closing her eyes and reminincing.
*****
The Centre
February 15, 1970
"Well, after you explained to me what Valentine's Day was and gave me that candy heart that said 'BE MY VALENTINE,' I had to do something for you. Do you like it?"
"Oh yes, Jarod! Its beautiful," a younger version of Catherine Parker exclaimed excitedly as she read the Valentine's Day card a third time.
The young Pretender smiled happily, but then pouted, "Sydney didn't like it when I made him a card once."
Miss Parker sighed, "Grown-ups can be so weird sometimes. Who doesn't like a card? Especially one with money."
"Money? What would someone of our age do with it? Don't your parents provide you with adequate nutrition, shelter, and overall financial aid?"
Miss Parker rolled her eyes and giggled, "Candy, Jarod! Clothes! My daddy gives me money every year for my birthday. Momma never does though. She gives me real presents."
"When is your birthday?" Jarod pondered.
"January 3rd. When is yours?" she replied innocently, sitting next to him on his bed.
Jarod's face fell, "I- I don't know."
"You should ask someone. Ask Sydney," young Miss Parker suggested.
"Maybe I will."
At that moment, a tall brunette woman walked into the room smiling at the two children before her.
"Momma!" her child yelled excitedly with the kind of enthusiasm only a child can muster up in a matter of a second, "look at what Jarod made for me!"
Catherine peered down at the folded piece of paper her daughter was waving in front of her.
"Its wondeful, Honey. Did you say 'thank-you' to Jarod?" she gently asked her daughter.
"Of course I did," she assured her mother.
Jarod watched them strangely. He enjoyed watching the two together, so happy, and yet he envied the bond they shared, "Hello, Mrs. Parker."
Catherine smiled and sat down next to the Pretender, greeting him sweetly, "Hi, Jarod. How are you?"
Jarod shrugged, "Fine, I guess." The woman held his hand comfortingly.
"Jarod," Catherine began hesitantly, "I came to see you because- because I need your help."
"What do you want me to do?" Jarod replied mechanically out of habit.
Catherine's eyes expressed her sorrow at his blunt response, "I promise you, Jarod, you won't just be helping me. You'll be helping yourself and Miss Parker as well. I can't explain it now, but tonight, I will be back. I just want you to be ready. Okay, Jarod?"
Confused, the small boy replied, "Whatever you say Mrs. Parker."
Catherine nodded solemnly and walked out of the door clutching her daughter's hand who waved good-bye to her friend and began chattering about her busy day.
*****
Catherine stood above the little boy who was sleeping not so peacefully in his bed. Beads of sweat crept down his face. Knealing down, she whispered softly in his ear, "Jarod, wake up."
"Huh!" Jarod bolted up in his bed and clutched the sheets around him in panic.
"Its just me, Catherine." She brushed her hand back and forth down his back soothingly.
"Mrs. Parker. I'm sorry, I fell asleep. It won't happen again," he mumbled near incoherantly.
"Sweetheart," she clutched his hand, "its fine. You need to rest now and then. I'm sorry I'm pulling you out in the middle of the night--"
"Pulling me out?" Jarod backed against the wall his bed leant against.
Catherine sighed and pointed to the camera in the corner, "They can't see what I need you to do. They won't know. Don't worry. Now, come on and get dressed so we can get out of here."
Jarod nodded and Catherine reassured him with a small smile.
*****
After the ride to the Parker's home, Catherine lead Jarod to her own special room of the house. Stain glass reflected the dim light that flowed from each small lamp. Jarod looked around in awe at the paintings and brushed his hand over the keys of the piano, accidentally pressing one down to have a sharp C note fill the silence around them. His eyes widened and he smiled.
"You make sure that my daughter teaches you how to play it one day."
Jarod's smile lingered and then he turned to her once again, "So why am I here?"
"I need you to do a simulation for me," Catherine continued, "but The Centre can't know about it. That's why we're doing it here."
"Then, let's get to work," Jarod affirmed with a nod, sounding like a smaller Sydney.
"Okay," Catherine slurred out, "Well, I'm not exactly sure how I'm supposed to go about doing this, Jarod, so I have written on this piece of paper what I know. And this," she pointed to a group of lines, "is what I still need to know."
She cocked her head slightly and waited for a response. Jarod looked at her with the innocence of a child, but with the wisdom of a man.
*****
"I'm so sorry I have to do this, Jarod. I promise you its for your own good," Catherine mumbled to herself as she put the child into a hypnotic trance, "this way you'll remain innocent."
She snapped her fingers and Jarod's eyelids sprung open as expected. He looked around at the familiar surroundings of The Centre, "Mrs. Parker, what are you doing here?"
"Go to sleep, Jarod. Speak to no one of this, please. I'll be back to visit you sometime this week. All right?"
"Umm, okay," Jarod answered in confusion.
Catherine nodded and left the room, shutting the door as the light on the camera reappeared.
*****
"We don't often get visitors here, ma'am," the heavily Scottish-accented voice continued, "ya sure ya don't wanta turn yerself 'round now? That island there's a strange place."
Catherine looked around confidently from her view in the little motor boat as the mist clung to her hair and her blue scarf blew wildly in the wind, "I need to do this. Its a matter of life and death."
The man shook his head and sped up the boat, "I hope ye know what yer gettin' yeself into. Nothin' good comes from thar."
Catherine glanced at him and clutched her biceps against the cold, but said nothing. The man continued, "So what didja say you did?"
The brunnette looked ahead to the quickly approaching mass of land before her, "I'm just a visitor with a mission."
