The Legends of Nethiah Page #2

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and his family was sealed.

War is never a good thing.

But when you're fighting for

your family, your community,

it takes on a special meaning

because you're protecting

what's most precious to you.

Now, that day, the villagers

fought valiantly,

but they lost.

Many died,

including Nethiah's father.

Some were enslaved.

The lucky ones escaped.

Nethiah watched as the Strifers

destroyed all that

he had come to know.

And the horrors that he saw

were too much for words.

Nethiah managed to escape,

and he found his mother

chained to a wall.

The Strifers had captured her.

And they were slowly

feeding her a serum

that was poisoning her.

He wanted to help his mother,

but there was nothing

he could do.

He was too small,

too weak to separate her

from those machines.

No. Come here, come closer...

She told him to leave.

She loved him so much

and she knew that

if he was captured,

he would be forced to work

in the mines, or worse.

There's nothing

for you here now.

Do you understand?

I want you to listen to me

very, very carefully.

I want you to close your eyes.

Shut them very tightly.

And do not open them

till I tell you.

Now, stand up.

Stand up!

Do not open your eyes.

Leave me now! You must go!

You must go

or you will die here.

Do you understand? Now, go!

And do not look back,

no matter what you hear!

Don't worry for me, my son.

I will always watch over you.

So what did he do?

He took a secret tunnel

and found the pipeline

that would lead

outside his village.

And when he climbed up

out of that pipe,

he was free.

So he made it?

Unfortunately, no.

He didn't.

Something stopped him.

He just couldn't do it.

He couldn't leave those

who meant the most to him.

So he went back.

And the Strifers captured him.

Oh, he fought like a wildcat.

He made the Strifers earn it.

But in the end,

he was still a boy,

and these were the strongest

creatures in the galaxy.

They beat him mercilessly,

until he finally passed out.

What? Why did you stop?

I got places to go,

people to see.

But I'll look in on you

while your parents are out.

But what about the story?

Hey, slow down, kiddo.

It's just a fairy tale,

remember?

It's way better. Really?

Well, then maybe

I'll come back tomorrow.

That sound good?

Yeah.

Grandpa? Yeah?

I hit that boy the other day.

I hit him first.

I heard.

You did?

Kids fight.

He made of fun of me.

Oh. Well, then he deserved it.

He said I was gonna be

one of those divorce kids.

He's right.

I know.

Thing is, he's my best friend.

Was.

Well, I'll tell you something.

Kids make fun of things

that they're afraid of,

what they don't understand.

Adults do, too.

I guess.

Come on, let's take this inside.

I haven't eaten

this much watermelon

since my prostate was your age.

Your what? Never mind.

My father's going to watch

Gabriel while we're at work.

Your father?

Yes, my father. Someone's

got to get through to him.

I talked to Gabriel.

Yeah, I know how

you talk to him.

Oh, stop. Susan,

I talk to the kid, okay?

My father has a way.

He's a good man.

He's a hard-ass. Excuse me?

You know what I'm talking about!

Whenever he speaks his mind,

he has no internal censor!

Since when did telling the

truth become such a bad thing?

I'm going to my room.

Yeah, walk out,

like you always do!

Can I come in?

Yeah.

Hey, kiddo.

We haven't really

talked very much

about what your dad and I

are asking of you.

I know it must seem like we

dropped a ton of bricks on you,

but it's really important

that you know why.

Whatever problems your dad and

I are having are between us.

They have nothing

to do with you.

We both had an equal part in

bringing you into this world,

and we both love you very much.

Does that make sense?

I guess.

Take your time

with the decision.

You know, when two people

get married,

divorce is the furthest

thing from their minds.

You have children,

you raise a family,

make a better lot in life.

But along the way,

life tends to throw in

a curveball or two.

You and mom don't love

each other anymore.

No.

No, we don't.

Well, not the way we used to.

Then in what way?

Well...

look, I'm gonna

tell you this because...

I think you're old enough

to understand it.

When I first met your mom,

it was like nothing else

I had ever felt before.

It was like... you know how

when you're running real fast

and you gotta stop because

you gotta catch your breath?

It was like that.

Only that's how I felt

every time we were together.

And when we got married,

there wasn't a day

when the sun didn't rise

and set with her.

But sometime in the last year,

I stopped loving your mother

the way I used to

when we got married.

And I can't explain why...

I wish I could...

but one morning I just felt it.

And, here's the thing

about falling in love

that no one ever tells you,

but I'm telling you now...

you can always fall out of it.

I don't understand.

Well, you will, buddy,

when you get a little bit older.

Trust me.

Now, as far as who

you're gonna live with,

that decision

is completely up to you.

And your mom and I aren't gonna

try to sway you in any way.

We both love you very much.

How will I know if you're

gonna fall out of it?

You little grubber-ish... yah!

That kind of love...

no parent ever falls out of.

All right. Now,

you give that a whirl.

Come on.

Looks like you could

use a cold soda.

Hey, Tully.

You got the weight of

the world on your shoulders.

I can tell.

You got that look.

What look?

It's the way you carry yourself.

That hunched-over, "I can't put

anything else on my shoulder" look.

It's that obvious?

Know what helps with that?

Give me the ball.

Follow me.

Come over.

For whatever reason,

shooting free throws

always helped me

to get my mind straight.

You play a lot.

In school.

Starting point guard for

a team that went to State.

We lost but, we had a fun ride.

Now I only mess around

when the mood hits me.

Here, why don't you

give it a go?

Uh, I don't play.

It's not playing, it's shooting.

Cheapest therapy I know.

Here, take it.

Hold the ball like this.

Bring it over your head like so.

Keep your eye

on the back of the rim.

That's what you're aiming for.

You aim for the front,

you'll brick the shot for sure.

Now, when shooting...

your left hand guides the ball,

while your right hand

propels the shot.

Always, always,

always follow through

with your shooting hand.

Why?

Hell if I know, kid.

It's what the coaches

always said.

Go ahead, give it a try.

Sweet!

You want to talk about it?

My parents are splitting up.

The "D" word.

I should have known.

So which one are you

gonna live with?

That's the thing.

They want me to decide.

Ah, hell.

Excuse my French.

That's a hard place to be in.

I'll tell you this.

You're not the first kid

whose parents got the big "D".

Great. I feel

so much better now.

I'm serious.

It stinks, but it happens.

It'll be hard, but it's livable.

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