This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This story is copyrighted by Parker Sheaffer, all rights reserved. Distribution, including but not limited to: posting on internet sites, newsgroups, or message boards, or in book form (either as a whole or part of a compilation), or on CD, DVD or any other electronic media, is expressly prohibited without the author's written consent.
Simon started attending his new school that Fall. The good thing about being in the second grade is that while most of the kids knew each other from the previous year there were still plenty of new faces so Simon didn't feel as awkward as he might have. Somehow it had gotten around that he was adopted and he heard a few whispers when he was introduced to his classmates. No one said anything cruel, though, at least not where he could hear.
Like any other school there were bullies all around. Simon never understood bullying and it saddened him to see children making fun of others, pushing them around in the playground, bumping them in the hallways, tripping them in the cafeteria. He heard name calling and jeering and he saw children crying or looking around in fear as they tried to get through each day without being singled out for some sort of torment. It all seemed to have no purpose and it sickened him in his heart. Simon waited to see if a plan would come to him, a plan on how to put a stop to it all.
It began dramatically a couple of weeks after school began. Two older boys were stealing money from the little kids. These boys were in the fifth grade but they had both been held back a couple of times so they were almost teenagers. They would corner a child or two and demand their lunch money, threatening to beat them up if they told anyone. Simon kept a close eye on them and one afternoon he saw them sneak into the teachers' lounge. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall and could sense them searching through the room. He knew when they forced open a closet door and began stealing money from the teachers' purses that were secured within. They quickly helped themselves to cash, cigarettes and anything of value they could find.
Suddenly the door opened and the two boys rushed out, still stuffing their pockets with loot. They saw Simon standing there looking at them, and stopped.
"You didn't see nothing. Do you get what I'm telling you. You didn't see nothing, or you're a dead kid. Dead. Now get out of here."
Simon smiled at them and walked directly to the Principal's office while the boys went back to class. Poking his head through the door he said to the secretary, "Uh, excuse me..."
She looked up and said, "Yes?"
"I need to see the principal, please."
"What's it about?"
"I just witnessed a theft."
The Principal stepped out of her office and said, "Theft? Come in and tell me about it. You're Simon, aren't you?"
Simon explained what he had seen and she believed him. He felt honest and sincere and besides, those two boys had been a major source of trouble for years.
They went to the classroom where the boys sat, trying to look innocent. They looked up at Simon and the Principal when they came in.
"Show me which two boys it was, Simon."
"It was them, Alan and Mark."
Mark jumped up and yelled, "You little bastard. I told you I'd kill you." He pulled a pocket knife from his sock and opened it. Then he charged but Simon was ready. He whispered a quick word and Mark tripped over his own feet. He crashed to the floor and screamed as the knife lodged in his own thigh.
At the same time, Alan leapt up and started to make a run for it but his jeans, which he always kept pulled halfway down his butt, slid even farther down and hobbled him. He was so scared as he tried to pull them back up that he wet himself. Standing there struggling with the uncooperative jeans he blushed as a puddle of urine formed around his feet. Suddenly he slipped and landed on the floor beside his screaming buddy.
Along with the paramedics the police came and they found cash and credit cards with the teacher's names on them in the boys' pockets. Later they pled guilty to the theft and with their prior records they were sent to a special kind of school.
Everyone talked about it for weeks and Simon was treated like a hero. The teachers loved him and the weaker kids admired him. The others, the bullies, steered clear of him, if they could. It was increasingly difficult to avoid Simon, who seemed to be everywhere. They couldn't chuck a rock at a nerd without Simon chastising them for it. They couldn't make fun of anyone without seeing Simon's disapproving face staring at them. The other kids no longer laughed when the bullies taunted a creepy misfit.
Eventually, most of the kids and even the teachers at the school responded to Simon's presence and his aura of peace. Without understanding why, everyone began treating each other more kindly and everyone seemed happier.
The same was true with his neighborhood. For several blocks around his house, the area he called his patrol zone, there was less fighting, less yelling. Parents and their children seemed to get along better and there were few instances where Simon had to step in with his powers, and that was fine with him.
Simon turned eight, then nine, and then the big one, ten. His life at home was more perfect than he could have hoped for. His parents loved him and they all three took great pleasure in the times they spent together. Sometimes they played games, sometimes they went to the park or to the zoo, but whatever they did they laughed and enjoyed each other's company.
It was wonderful to be able to go to school and be treated like a normal boy. No one ever yelled at him, threatened him or tried to harm him. He had friends, the teachers all liked him, his grades were good and he was very happy.
Homework, school, playing with his friends and spending time with his parents took up a lot of his time, but whenever he could each day he patrolled the neighborhood, often with two of his best friends, Alex and Bill. He was seldom called upon to mete out justice any more because the bad people had either changed or moved away.