Timmy

 Epilog

CHAPTER 1

Timmy

I t was Monday and as many times this year little Timmy stood beside his desk once again answering the questions that the teacher asked all the other students, but for some reason little Timmy was the smartest, brightest student in class. It didn’t matter that little Timmy was only eight years old. The other students didn’t like him. He is a Mr. know it all, Many of the students would say. He’s funny looking, others would say. Oh don’t get me wrong, children can be very cruel. But most of the time little Timmy would pay them no mind. But sometimes, sometimes he would get so angry at a few of them for doing the cruelest of things. They would knock his books from his hands, or they would push him down in the dirt or mud puddle. Yes, some of these other kids were just plain mean. Little Timmy’s dad would say that they don’t understand, that they were jealous and to pay no attention to them. But sometimes that was just hard to do. His dad would also tell him that he was a very special boy. So special was little Timmy that this made him very different from all of his class mates and friends. But Timmy didn’t understand what his dad told him. All little Timmy wanted was to be like the other kids but his dad said that was impossible but could not explain until he was older. This always made him very sad because little Timmy had few friends. Even the few friends he had didn’t play with him that much because after awhile they would feel like they could not understand what he was talking about and then they would go home. He couldn’t help it if he would forget and use large words. He really tried to use little words like his dad told him he should do.

He always knew the answers to the questions Mrs. Longwood would ask. To him, the answers were easy peazy. This would get the other kids mad and they would start to pick on him. Because of Timmy, Mrs. Longwood had stopped grading on a curve. This was just another angry mark on little Timmy. He just couldn’t help it if he was the smartest kid in class. He even tried dumbing down, but he couldn’t do that either. Being smart was just what he was. He wasn’t showing off or anything like that. But, even the A students did not like him. They hated a know-it-all. Even during show and tell, while other children had books they had read, frogs or other unusual pets, an old watch, little Timmy would show the books he read which usually consisted of some advanced physics. The teacher even had challenged him on his achievements but he shortly astounded then with his knowledge he would also bring in certificates where he debated with college physicists on nuclear science or some other achievement he thought was trivial like a report he had done on solid rocket propulsion. So as you can see, for an eight year old boy, Timmy was special. Math was so easy for him that he was usually done with the entire textbook shortly after the semester started. His dad had him working on advanced trigonometry when he was four. Science was boring; his dad had him working on advanced college science at five. Grammar, reading, and writing were the same. For awhile, teachers were betting on finding any mistake on any of his papers, but this was a wasted task. Teachers talked with Timmy’s parents to try to get them to place Timmy in college. They had tried several colleges but little Timmy was just too young. He had to be eleven before any of them would even consider screening him. These people thought that he was a prank and his parents were out to make everyone look stupid. But this was far from the case. Though Timmy could not figure why he was so different from everyone else, he looked the same, only shorter. His hair was the brightest of blondes. But he was not an albino. He studied oculocutaneous albinism. He showed none of the common effects such as the lack of melanin that affects the skin color. The odds of a person being born an albino are twenty in one hundred thousand. Timmy wished he could only find a way to get the mean kids to like him or leave him alone. He hated school.

During P.E., other kids would shove him across the locker room like he was a tackle dummy. Little Timmy was always bruised and down trodden. He was probably the saddest little boy on earth. Timmy came home, went to his room and cried every night. Mom always understood saying that they were just jealous and did not understand his mind or his ways of thinking. Timmy could not understand why others were jealous of him like his mom says. He wasn’t anyone special, he was shorter than everyone. At his last school, the older kids used him as a football on the bus. The only thing he could see was that he was smart, very smart.

He never went outside for fear of running into his classmates or adults that did not understand him. The mean kids would always yell, Hey there’s the know-it-all freak! and chase him home. The adults were the meanest of all. Though Timmy really didn’t think that they thought they were being mean. They would look at him and move way over out of his way and whisper to each other pointing and staring at Timmy. They were sneakier about it when he was with his parents. But they still did it. Mom and dad would always smile and wave when they saw them acting strange like that. But other people thought Timmy’s parents didn’t notice what they were doing or saying about him.

CHAPTER 2

A Discovery

T immy began collecting toy cars and toy people and little sets that he started to build his own town. His town looked similar to most of the towns he sees on TV. It had tall buildings, short buildings, streets, police cars, taxies, and trucks of all sizes and other cars too. He would sit around at night after school and play city. He had police chases, accidents, and some days nothing would happen but people walking through his town and cars and trucks moved around with places to go. He remembered his dad would talk about cops eating donuts and he had a Duncan Donut building and on days like these, he would park all the police cars around the donut shop so they could eat donuts and drink coffee. He also liked to play army. He had a full army post in the back yard, the back yard was fenced in and he could not be seen from outside the fence. He would have an all-out war between his green army and his blue army. There were usually lots of injured soldiers and tanks and jeeps turned over before he was done for the day. Then he would gather them up so they could be well and healthy for the next battle. Soldiers were Supermen. They were bullet proof and super strong. Just like on TV.

One day, little Timmy was playing by himself and he made the most remarkable discovery. He was playing with his army soldiers and some of them were just out of his reach. He wished he could move them without getting up and disturbing the ones close by. Just then, the one he was looking at slid across the battle field and fell at the enemy that was shooting at him. He thought he was dreaming! He looked at another one and tried to move him without touching it. Nothing happened this time. It had to have been a dream. He went back to the mission and the battle continued. Again, he had a soldier just out of reach and he had the same thought, and once more the beaten soldier slid across the battle field and fell at his opponent’s feet. He was wide awake this time. He was sure he was awake this time. He tried to remember what he had done to make the soldier move. At first nothing was happening. He tried until his head started to hurt. He stopped for awhile and thought again what he did or thought that made it move. He tried again and this time the soldier wiggled a little and fell over. Wow, he thought, I can actually move something without touching it! He spent the rest of the day, until it got dark, trying to move his army men. He got better and better until he had to go in for the night.

The next day at school he was almost too excited to pay attention. Once the teacher had to ask him twice about a multiplication problem and the class laughed when the teacher said he was daydreaming about algorithms, if she only knew. He couldn’t wait for school to be over so he could go home and practice some more. The day seemed to drag forever.

Recess, oh no, not recess. That meant that it was only 11am and he still had four hours to go. Oh when will this day ever end! The bullies were meaner than usual today in the playground. He knew he would never understand why they were mean like they were. They had taken his pants off of him and put them up the flag pole with the flag. He couldn’t undue the knot and had to get a teacher to get his pants back. She scolded him on letting the boys do this and sent him to the office. She told him that she knew this little prank was his idea. Timmy knew that they were going to call his mom, he was glad. When she got to the school, she listened to what the principal and Mrs. Longwood had to say. She then calmly asked a few questions of her own to the teacher.

1. Did she see Timmy run his own pants up the flag pole?

2. Why is it that the bullies in this school are never punished for torturing quiet or weaker students?

3. And just how is it that five students can de-pants a child in the middle of a playground while a teacher is standing nearby, run down the flag unnoticed, attach a pair of pants to the flag and run it back up in plain view of the teacher and she not see anything?

Mom said a few things about wasting her time because her son was different and very, very smart. She decided to take Timmy home for the rest of the day and talk to dad when he got home. He could not believe His luck! He was going home!

When they got home, Timmy’s mom told him to go upstairs and study until school was out. Obediently, Timmy climbed the stairs and went to his room. He studied the book that he left on his desk last night before bed. Structure and Evolution of the Stars. He had read this one a few times already. And just wanted to go back outside and play with his soldiers. He was on a mission. He had learned to do something that he wondered if anyone else could do it as well. But he knew better than to ask. 2:45, the time was just as slow at home as it was at school. He could almost feel the time slow down. It seemed to go on forever. It felt like he was eating a bowl of soup with a fork. Scoop and only get a few items from the bottom. But not getting any of the liquid. 2:55 and he was going out of his mind staring at the clock. He had never seen a clock move so slow in his short life. He debated the theory of time and space as he waited for the clock to tick the next number bringing him closer to three pm. His eyes became dry and he felt like he swallowed a pillow as he waited for 2:56. He could almost reach into the clock with his mind and move the time forward making it three o’clock. He stared hard at the clock. He felt a fly crawl on his arm as if it were in slow motion. He felt as if time itself had stopped. The anticipation was brutal as he waited. Four more minutes, just four more minutes. This was worse than waiting in line for a ride at the park. Four agonizing minutes remained. He decided to look away and busy himself with something that took his mind off of the time remaining. He read in his physics book and got wrapped up in what he read. He had forgotten to keep an eye on the time, when he looked up it was three fifteen. He ran out the door like he was shot from a cannon.

As soon as he was outside he had set up his armies just like yesterday. He wanted to see if he could make them move again. Timmy sat down after he had set the final tank in place. He thought and planned how he would overtake the other army. He started with one soldier. This soldier was going to attack the soldier in the front row and beat him. He focused and stared at the soldier. Suddenly, the soldier slid across the field and knocked the other soldier down but the one he wanted to win stayed standing. For the rest of that day, Timmy moved and drove the tanks and jeeps with the soldiers close behind until he got so tired that he could hardly move to go inside. But by this time, he was able to move several pieces at once, almost like in the movies!

Timmy slept like he hadn’t in a long time, deep and satisfying. Dreaming of the wars he had waged and won over and over again.

Timmy woke up and got dressed like he did every day for school. He drudged his way downstairs and sat at the table waiting for his mom to come in smiling like she does every morning. She was always happy about something and she was always able to make Timmy feel just a little better. She walked in and looked at Timmy with a strange look on her face and started laughing. Timmy started checking himself and discovered that his T-shirt was on backwards and inside out. Figures, this was a bad way to start a school day. At least he hadn’t made it to school yet and the bullies found out about it first. He took off his shirt and put it on the right way. His mom was still chuckling then asked him where he was going this fine rainy morning.

Oh great, he thought, not only is this turning into a really bad day, it’s raining too!

Timmy slowly pulled his shirt down and said that he was going to school. His mom made his breakfast of oatmeal and toast and sat beside him as she did when she had time in the morning. With a very large smile on her face as she placed the toast in front of him she softly stated. It is Saturday young Einstein, you don’t have to go to school today. His head shot up and he began to smile about not having to go to school and deal with the bullies once again. But as soon as the smile came, it also disappeared. It was Saturday AND raining. He couldn’t go out and play with his army men. Man, he whispered under his breath. He had to stay indoors and play today, he thought to himself.

He ate his breakfast and slowly went back upstairs to put on his weekend cloths. As he dressed he looked over to his city in the corner. He wondered if he could move those as well. He went over and set up his city he called Timmyville. He was still collecting buildings and cars and trucks. So far, Timmyville, only had one ambulance and no really large trucks. But that didn’t matter. He sat in front of the city and started to plan what he wanted to do first. He decided to have a car or two drive around town. He found this to be a little more work than with the army men. Those tanks and jeeps could drive over anything, in the city he had to drive around buildings and other things like trees, trash cans, mail boxes, all kinds of things that were not in the battlefield. After a few hours of moving one car, then two cars and some trucks around town he had so many things moving that it looked like Timmyville had come to life.

CHAPTER 3

Dad’s Observation

T immy’s dad was discussing the events of the previous week with Timmy’s mom.

I’m really worried about Timmy, Fauna stated.

Why do you say that that is he in trouble at school? Tom asked.

Not really, it’s the usual with the bullies, they de-pantsed him yesterday and run his pants up a flagpole with the teacher standing in eyesight and she did nothing until Timmy went to ask for assistance. She accused him of setting the whole thing up and sent him to the office. Fauna stated with a little irritation in her voice. She then recounted her conversation with the teacher and the principal.

Tom quickly commented, I must remind myself to never have you get angry with me like that. I wouldn’t stand a chance! He chuckled.

Should I go to the school and talk with them? He asked.

Not this time. But I am really getting worried about Timmy, he hates going to school. I can’t see it doing him anything but holding him back, isn’t there anything we can do to put him in a school somewhere that will challenge him? She said.

Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do until he is a little older. Schools are treating him like we are setting them up to make a mockery of the school system. They don’t believe that he is really that smart. There was only one school that was willing to test him. He did so well that their chart did not score that high. And we still haven’t heard back from them He said.

I remember that, I don’t know what to do, Fauna said. He is depressed all the time he comes home and runs straight to his room.

I will go up and talk to him. Tom said as he got up from his chair.

As Tom reached the top of the stairs he noticed that Timmy had left the door cracked open just a little. He peeked in and saw Timmy in the corner with his city. He didn’t seem like he was that depressed, in fact, he seemed quite happy. He suddenly stopped short of pushing the door open and walking in when he saw the many cars moving in and around the little city as naturally as if it were a real city. Tom watched for quite awhile as the cars and trucks and people moved about Timmyville without any help from Timmy. After awhile, Tom backed slowly away from the door as to not disturb Timmy or let him know that he had seen him.

Tom got to the bottom of the stairs and Fauna met him on the bottom step.

Well? Did you talk with him? What did he say? Fauna said.

We didn’t talk, but he is going to be just fine. Trust me. Tom said with conviction.

Are you sure? she said.

Absolutely! What are we doing for lunch dear? he said.

How can you think of food when our son is so sad! she said with a little more agitation than she intended to show.

All I can say for now is this; our young boy is starting to grow up. He commented.

You’re not making any sense Tom. She said.

You’ll see soon enough my dear. Tom smiled reassuringly to Fauna.

Is there something going on that you’re not telling me Tom? She asked.

Not at all really, will you trust me on this one, at least for now? He asked her.

CHAPTER 4

Experiments

T hree weeks had gone by and Timmy was racing home to his room to play with his city, or to the back yard playing army. He worked hard and practiced every chance he got. He often went to bed so tired that he barely made it to bed. Sometimes he would fall asleep on the floor. Other times he didn’t remember getting into bed.

But at school it was the same old story. Bullies, bullies, bullies, he really hated going to school. It was getting so bad that a few of the bullies were actually following him home. Parents were called, meetings were held only to have the same thing said over and over again. There’s nothing wrong here, boys will be boys after all. They are just acting like boys, that’s all. Every day, Timmy grew more and more withdrawn at school. He found places to hide during recess. Sometimes the bullies would find him. Other times he would watch from one of his secret places and smile as they looked for him.

At home, Timmy was getting really good at moving the cars around the city and playing war. It was getting so he really didn’t have to even think about it. He would focus a little and then it would almost move without him thinking on it again.

Cars moved about the city just like for real. He had police chases while other cars were still just driving around.

This is easy peasey. He commented to himself.

One day, he was getting bored with just moving toy cars around. He wondered if he could move other things too. He looked around the room and tried to find something that wasn’t too heavy. He focused on one of his small books on the desk. He focused, he thought about lifting the book. Suddenly, the book shot off the desk and smacked the ceiling with a loud pop and then came crashing to the floor.

Timmy! Are you okay? What was that noise? Mom questioned.

Nothing mom, I dropped a book. Timmy stated nervously hoping that she would not come up.

He looked at the book again and it floated off the floor and easily placed it back on the desk exactly where it was before.

That was easy peasy. He thought.

The rest of the week he would play with his city, or play army, then finish by mentally juggling items of different sizes and weights in his room. He got so he would have many objects floating around his room at once. He was really getting good at moving just about anything he wanted, as long as it wasn’t too heavy. He was growing in leaps and bounds with his newly acquired skill.

CHAPTER 5

Dad’s Lecture

I t had been about three weeks since he started moving bigger things in his room when he accidently forgot to fully close the door. He had his city in full motion. He had various items in his room rotating and orbiting his room like a demented solar system. His dad was walking by and noticed that the door was just open enough to see inside. He stopped and observed that Timmy had just about everything in his room in motion and Timmy was lying in his bed reading a book. He watched until he was satisfied and backed up to the stairs and called Timmy’s name. He then knocked on his door and walked in.

Boy he did get good, there was nothing to indicate that anything was out of place. Tom sat on the bed and asked how Timmy was doing. He looked around and noticed that everything was in its proper place.

Yes dad? Timmy said.

You remember when I said that you were special? Tom asked.

Yes. Timmy said.

Well I think you have discovered one of your specialties. Tom said smiling.

I don’t understand. Timmy said.

Oh I think you do son. Remember, you can do more than you think. Don’t limit yourself with just the little things in life. You can accomplish anything if you just apply yourself. He said.

Timmy was getting nervous now. What was dad talking about? Had he been seen moving things about the room. He thought he had the door closed. Did dad see him in the back yard? He thought he was being careful when …

The mind is a powerful, powerful thing. Dad said. It doesn’t matter how big a brain is, as much as how powerful a person can make it. Proper exercise of the mind and keeping it under control and only using such a power for good things will make the mind very powerful and in a good frame of mind. If a person uses his or her power for bad things, bad things will in turn happen to that person. Do you understand?

Not really. Timmy stated. Have I done something wrong? I’m real sorry if I did.

No son, you haven’t done anything wrong at all. But you know more about what I am talking about than you are letting on. What you can do is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, it is something to really be proud of. But, I would be careful and not let too many people know. Only people who you think would understand and who could keep secrets as well as you can. You get me now? Dad said.

I think so. Timmy said.

Great, let’s go see what mom has fixed for dinner. Dad said.

CHAPTER 6

Another Experiment

E very night, Timmy would practice and get better and better at moving things and playing in his city and playing war. He got so good that it was beginning to get a little boring. He had tried writing without using his hands but he needed a lot more practice before he could do that.

He really hated going to school now and was beside himself happy when that three o’clock bell rang to go home. The teasing was intolerable now and it was getting so bad that the teachers were all but overlooking the bully’s mischief. Little Timmy wished he could do something to get them to stop but he didn’t know what he could do without getting into trouble himself. He did not want to have to answer to dad for his misbehaving.

One day after recess he was sitting in class after another relentless thirty minutes of teasing. He was bruised and battered from being pushed down, called names, punched, kicked, and then to finish the recess they ran his coat up the flagpole. He was late getting back to class because he was afraid to ask for help. So he struggled with the knot until he got it untied. He discovered that he could use his skill to help him undo the knot. But he still got very cold and in a lot of trouble.

He looked at the five boys that tormented him and wished he could do something. Anything that would make them get into trouble and nobody would guess that he caused it.

Then he saw what he might use. On the corner of Andrew’s desk was his textbook. He glanced at it and mentally tipped it off his desk. It landed flat on the floor with a loud whap! Andrew got shushed by the teacher with a very stern look. He looked at the other bullies and they had their textbooks on their desks as well. One after the other the books crashed flat on the floor. The teacher glared at them and sent them into the hall. We were given a short assignment and she went into the hall after them. After a few minutes, Billy, Andrew, Wally, Roger, Pete, and Mrs. Longwood came back in the class. The boys looked really sad. They looked at each other and around the room trying to figure out what happened.

Little Timmy now had a plan. Then he remembered what his father had told him about using the power for good. He felt it was good. They tortured him; he was like The Avenger using his power to overcome evil. He wouldn’t do it all the time. Timmy would only use his mind on them when they teased and tortured him after recess. Maybe they would learn from their troubles that maybe, just maybe, that they are being punished for being mean to others. It might also mean that they would learn not to tease and torment others. It sounded good to Timmy.

CHAPTER 7

A Visit to the Principal

T he rest of the day went without any more trouble until 2:50. Ten minutes before the bell rang. Timmy was called down to the office once again. This time not only was Principal Stinger and mom there, but his dad was there too, and he did not look happy to be there. Timmy was scared; did they find out that he was the one that knocked the books off the desks? Did Mrs. Longwood see him do it? She couldn’t have, he barely glanced at the books.

Mr. Stinger spoke. I have called both of you here because of an issue that has happened once before and has happened again. Only this time he took his time for playing with the flag pole and returning late for class after recess. We are beginning to have more and more problems with Master Longwalk here. I am almost at the end of my rope with him. He causes trouble …

Mom interrupted, Please wait Mr. Stinger. Are you saying that the problem with the bullies is over and now my son is acting out? Mom’s words were controlled and very thought out. If I recall Mr. Stinger, I begged and pleaded for your school to control the bullying issues that were left unchecked. Last time Mrs. Progain accused Timmy of playing with the flag, her son and four others de-pants him, ran down the flag, attached his pants to the flag hooks and ran them back up with her watching the whole episode!

Mrs. Longwalk, please! Mr. Stinger pleaded leaning forward in his chair. Mrs. Progain stated that she did not see anything.

How convenient Mr. (she emphasized the Mr. like it was to be insulting) Stinger. I recall from my past visits to the school that she stays in one place. Every day without fail you can find her in that one place, leaning against the corner of the building, facing ironically toward the flag pole that is in her direct line of site to the play area. She never moves Mr. Stinger. Mom was getting really mad and dad put his hand on her arm to try to bring her back. Mom also finished with, And how curious, and convenient that when her child was involved in the bullying, she turns a blind eye, and nothing happens to her Andrew who, from other students who were not scared out of their whit’s to tell me and you that Andrew Progain started the little Practical joke I recall your words at the time.

Mrs. Longwalk, Andrew Progain is not the one we are discussing now. He was leaning on his desk now and getting angry. Your son returned from class late and was seen taking down his jacket from the flag pole outside!

"Wait, hold on, you are telling me that Mrs. Progain was standing outside and allowed Timmy to remove his jacket, take down the flag, attach his jacket to the flag and run it up the flagpole in 18 degree weather? Mr. Stinger, just why is