Title: "Revelations: Part 4 of 14"        

         On the hill that overlooked the Berkeley High campus, Erica Storm looked into the eyes of Patrick Balmore. As they sat on a picnic sheet, she felt as if she no longer recognized Patrick. It was not the first time, either. Slowly, building over the past few weeks, when she would look into his eyes, she would not see the tender blue eyes of one of the greatest quarterbacks to ever play for Berkeley High. No, she wouldn't see the same eyes of the person she had once fallen madly in love with. In their place, she now saw cold, hard eyes. They were eyes that did not want direct contact. Eyes that pleaded for a way out, not knowing they were the windows to how Patrick felt.

         Erica, all five foot, six inches, of her slim body was laying on the blanket. She and Patrick struggled to make small talk. That was in place of what had once been a never-ending conversation between the two. As they lay there, Patrick rolled onto his back and began staring into the stars.

         "You know my brother is coming back, don't you?" He never looked at her, but spoke directly up as he continued to gaze into the distant sky.

         Erica took her sight off of Patrick, as she knew he would not roll back over. She, as well, peered up into the sky. She looked up to the star patterns and the satellites that shown greater than anything else. "I know, Patrick. That has been the only thing that you have talked about tonight."

         "Well of course! What else could be important as Berkeley University's most celebrated athlete finally coming home? Answer me that!" Patrick had rolled back over, looking at Erica as she continued to look up into the sky.

         What else could be more important? Did he really just say that to her? She had been his girlfriend for two years and it was as if he simply did not care. Erica continued to look into the sky, fearing that she would start crying if she had to turn around and look back into those cold eyes. "But Patrick . . ." She couldn't help it. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. The pain that he had caused to her by his words was getting to be too much. It wasn't just in that instant, either. It was an accumulation over time. She wasn't sure what would happen with their relationship. But all she could do was let the tears stream down her cheeks. She couldn't cry aloud, Patrick would get angry again. But it was too late.

         "Are you . . . damn it, why are you starting that up now?" Patrick propped himself up on his elbows as he looked at the tears that ran down Erica's face. "Why are you ruining my moment of happiness? I swear, something great has happened in my life, and you don't even care! All you do is think about yourself. Sometimes I wonder why…" Patrick didn't finish his words.

         "Wonder what? What do you wonder, Patrick? Why we are still together? Why don't you answer your own question!" She had rolled back over, facing Patrick with the tears now streaming down her face. The accumulation was becoming more than she cared to bear. "Why don't you answer your own question!"

         Erica stood up from the blanket and began walking away from Patrick. She held her face in her hands as she walked, faster and faster, away from Patrick.

         Patrick got up to his knees, staring in disbelief as Erica walked away from him. "Now where are you going? Hey, don't you walk away from me! Erica! Come back here! Erica!" He climbed up to his feet.

         But she didn't listen to his calling words. She just walked. Walked, as Patrick stood angrily, staring in disbelief as Erica walked over the hill.

         He gave thought to chasing after her, but decided against. She would be back. He knew she always would be. Give her her moment of freedom. But she would be back when he called her.

         With that thought in mind, he loaded up the blanket and carried it to his convertible.

* * * * *

         "Man, that's…great. It's going to be great to have you back in Berkeley."

         "Oh, don't you know it! I was talking to Karl, drunker than he let on, no doubt, just a minute ago. It'll be like a reunion. Me, Karl, and you, JJ!"

         Jacob Jones, known to everyone as simply "JJ," held the phone away for a minute. So Theodore Balmore was coming back. Why, he hadn't seen or heard from Theodore in over a year. And now, the person he always wanted to be in good graces with was coming back. In fact, Theodore had even called him before hand to tell him. The fact of that helped JJ feel accepted once again by the Berkeley University legend.

         JJ, himself, had been the place kicker at Berkeley High. He had played alongside Theodore and Karl on the team. JJ had never been a big person -he stopped growing at 5'11" and could never surpass 185 pounds-, but Theodore had accepted him. And that acceptance by Theodore was something that JJ treasured.

         JJ had always been the shy kid at the party, the quiet kid in the class. The fact that he made the high school football team was a major accomplishment in itself. The fact that Theodore had taken him "under his wing" after that was an even greater accomplishment.

         Despite the numerous times that JJ did not agree with Theodore's ideas of people and his sometimes brash decisions, he still could not stand up against Theodore. He simply went along with it and tried to turn a blind eye toward anything he didn't agree with. His friendship with the most popular guy in school had always been too important.

         And so, JJ, now feeling fully accepted by Theodore because of having received a phone call from him, put his mouth back to the phone. "Man…that sounds awesome. Just like old times."

         On the phone, Theodore was still going strong. "Don't you know it! There's going to be a huge party and any of the other kinds of things that should take place when I arrive. And you get full VIP treatment during the whole thing, no doubt! Of course that is because, we were, we are, buds."

         They were buds. The words of Theodore rang through JJ's head again and again. It felt so good to hear someone of that importance in not only Berkeley, but from the professional football world as well, say that to him. He felt honored. He had to look past everything else. He should. Here was Theodore Balmore, someone who didn't have to do what he was doing, taking out time to call him and tell him they were friends. It was an honor to JJ.

         He put the phone back to his mouth. "I can't wait, Theodore. I honestly can't wait." For some strange reason, the words didn't sound right coming out of his mouth.

* * * * *

         The next day, Matt stepped out of the door of his apartment. Set off of Gilman Street, the two-story apartment complex wasn't the greatest structure ever assembled. The dark gray paint on it was chipping off at all points of the building. Rust had set in on the metal staircase that led up to the second floor. Discolored sections of the building were evident, as patches of wood had had to be fit into the walls to cover damages to the apartment building. Overall, it was twenty years old, with some saying it was nearing its last days.

         To others such as Matt, though, it served as home. The price wasn't that bad, the people who lived in it seemed nice enough, and everything along Gilman seemed to be right at your fingertips from the apartments. Matt was only 19, but working as a full time employee of the Berkeley 517 Warehouse helped him afford things such as an apartment. He had to be able to. His parents had already kicked him out of their house a year earlier.

         As Matt locked his front door, he gazed up to the second level. Apartment #13 was where he was heading. Whether he would be there or not, Matt was not sure. It was at least worth a shot. Ever since he and Lucky had had their talk about him, Matt was wondering how he was taking it. He wondered if Zero was still in the same lull that he had been in since the last time he had talked to him. What would he, Zero, be contemplating?

         Matt grabbed hold of the stair rail, trying not to grab hold of the exposed rust that was evident on the railing. He walked up slowly, looking at the door to apartment #13. The lights appeared to be out, although the window shades were pulled up tightly. Still, Zero could just have all of the lights turned out. Matt wasn't sure, but he needed to find him.

         He remembered the time he and Zero had talked about Zero's childhood. Zero never went too deep into the things that had happened, although he did share a few details with Matt. One of those was of a story dealing with Lint Douglas, Zero's original name, and a young kid named Theodore. Theodore had been a popular kid growing up and had always wanted to make sure everyone knew it. One way he enforced the fact was to pick on someone who he felt could never retaliate. That person had been Lint Douglas. And so, growing up and entering into the early teenage years, Theodore had been the one person who led what would become a group of people who were constantly running opposition against Lint Douglas. In fact, it had even been Theodore who coined the name "Zero." In an act of spite towards Lint and his clouded background, Theodore had begun to call him Zero to show that he was worthless to him. It was the clearest way to illustrate to Lint that he was a zero to Theodore.

         Things stayed the same for a long time. That is, until the day that Lint Douglas decided to fight back. He had decided to retaliate against the verbal onslaught that he had endured from Theodore for years. A simple punch to Theodore's nose had been the answer. In the aftermath, Theodore came out on top by beating Lint Douglas up in standard adolescent fashion. But the wheels had begun to turn, and now Theodore realized that he could no longer continue to be the thorn in Lint's side. He would, though, continue to be the one person who would never give up on Zero. He would always try to find some way to destroy Lint Douglas after he had attacked him with that punch to the nose at the age of fourteen.

         Knowing this, Matt took the last step up and made his way over to Apartment #13. The door was locked, so Matt knocked twice. There was no answer. He knocked again. Still, there was no answer. Matt walked over to the window and tried to look inside. But the curtains were pulled up too tight for him to be able to see inside. He grabbed hold of the door handle once again, but it was to no good. It was locked. Zero wasn't at his apartment. He had to of been somewhere else. Matt had a good idea.

         Walking down past the apartments, the alley front loomed in front of Matt. The alley had been dubbed the "Gilman Alley" long beforehand by the media. It was also the notorious home of Zero. Even though he would rent an apartment and stay there, it could never be a home for Zero. Only the alley, the alley that Zero had grew up in and had resorted to when trying times had came up in his life, would be the one constant in Zero's life despite what circumstances came up that would block further movement for Zero. Matt knew this.

         As he came up to the two dumpsters that rested at the opening to the alley, Matt took a deep breath. Despite no matter how many times Matt would ever enter into the alley, he would always feel uneasy before entering it. He wasn't sure if it was the darkness that swallowed it, regardless of how bright the day appeared, or if that was just a trick that was being played on his mind. He wasn't sure if it was the fact of the murders that had happened in the alley two years earlier. That probably had something to do with it. It was a murder case that Zero had even been blamed for, although for some reason, Zero was found not guilty despite the leaning of everyone in the courthouse assuming he was instantly guilty. It was a crime that Zero said he had never committed, but it was also a crime that cast a bad shadow over Zero no matter how many times the judge would of said he was not guilty.

         Matt exhaled and took the first step past the dumpsters, into the alley. The smell caught him instantly. It was the smell of smoke. It smelled like a combination of both fire and cigarette smoke. Zero had to be here.

         Matt began to make his way down the shadowy hall that encased the opening. The bend was just up ahead. The alley had been added onto many years earlier, so actually an extension was put on it, closing off the end and wrapping it around the back of the apartments. That had been where the bodies were found two years earlier. That was also the mainstay of where Zero could always be found. Matt was slowly making his way towards that destination.

         He turned the bend and came face to face with a slowly burning fire in a garbage can. The can sat in the center of the opening. Someone, that someone being Zero, had been here. But, as Matt looked around…no one was in the alley any longer. Feeling defeated and not really knowing where to look next, Matt turned around and made his way back out of the alley.

* * * * *

         Flying over the state line of Nevada, Theodore Balmore looked out of his first class seat. The land looked so small down below. But he wasn't really interested in that. He was only looking down at the land they passed, comparing it to the time on his watch. It would only be a few more hours before he would touch down in Berkeley. And then, finally, he could then reunite with his friends and younger brother after over a year of not seeing them. It would be nice. He was looking forward to it.

         Theodore sighed in relief. He shifted in his seat, careful not to put his knee in any kind of awkward strain. It had been operated on, but the tendons were still healing. It was still sensitive and would scream out if he put it into any kind of bad position. It didn't impair his walking or mobility, though.

         A stewardess was making her final rounds. She stopped at each passenger, asking if he or she would like anything before the plane officially landed.

         She stopped at Theodore's seat. After a brief, intentional hesitation, he looked up at her. A sly grin passed over his face as he looked at her slim body.

         His grin cracked across his face, as he was the first to speak. "You must realize that this will be your last chance to get to see more of me before I leave. I understand how you feel. There are a lot of people looking forward to seeing me again in Berkeley!" He spoke to her with an arrogance that jumped from his body.

         She was not impressed. "Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Balmore. I'm had to come over here."

         The grin on Theodore's face started to deteriorate. "No doubt you had to come over here! That's just what I said."

         She rolled her eyes at his gesture. She looked down the rows at the others that she would have to stop by. Returning an irritated facial expression to Theodore, she said, "No, Mr. Balmore. This is my job. I have to come by all of the passengers and see if they would like anything before the flight comes to its end. Would you like anything?"

         Theodore attached his sly grin again. "Well, I don't want anything. I'm pretty sure you do, though." The grin on his face widened. "I'll tell you what. When we land, I'll let you enjoy a sit on my lap. Of course, that is if I have the time. I'll be a busy person with all of the autographs I'll have to sign, no doubt. But maybe I'll find time to fit you in." He looked up at her with a cunning grin.

         She was not amused by his words. Sighing, barely avoiding the temptation to throw all of the snacks and drinks across his lap, she bit her tongue and replied, "Mr. Balmore, I'm not amused. This is an offer from the Airline Company. Would you care for some snacks or a drink or…"

         Theodore cut her off. "I don't give a damn about your stupid snacks," he hollered. The passengers all turned a quick look over to him. That only fueled him more.

         He positioned himself higher up in his chair; so as to have a more direct eye conduct with the stewardess, his grin turned sharp. "If you can't take a little joke, then why don't you go serve someone else, you little bit…" He held his tongue. "Well, I'll be a gentlemen. And that is more than I could say for your actions!"

         She started to reply that encompassed the rage that was pulsating through her, but decided against it. She turned and stormed out of first class. Bags of peanuts and candy bars fell from her tray. She didn't care. The tears that had formed in her eyes helped block out all of the stares she was receiving. The Balmore brother seemed to have that power of making females cry in their presence.

         Back in his seat, Theodore Balmore laughed his slow laugh of assurance. The people sitting around him all stared as if he was some lunatic, but that only reassured him. He felt better than they did. He knew he looked better than any of them could ever hope to gain in appearance. And, most importantly, he knew was the famous person on that plane.

         Above all of that, there was definitely one thing that he was certain of. He was returning to Berkeley in style. The Theodore Balmore style!

* * * * *

         Later in the night after the sun had gone down, a fire burned in a garbage can. The shadows of the alley that encompassed it bounced back and forth across the walls. The winds blew in slightly from above the high walls. It was fairly dim inside of the Gilman alley, but the light of the fire gave off just enough light to read by.

         Stacks of papers were strewn off to the side of the garbage can. A pile of newspapers rested had been torn through. Different parts could be found at all corners of the main core of the alley.

         The man, the piercings in tact and the tattoos running up his right arm, sat on a crate. He leaned forward to capture more of the light that the fire was giving off. He inhaled a small drag of the cigarette in his hand and exhaled slowly into the night air.

         On the top page of one of the newspapers that rested beside the garbage can, the bold headline read "Zero to go, time has ran out on Lint Douglas." At the top of the papers on the other side of the garbage can, the statement read "Lint Douglas faces his verdict". And in his hands, inside of the general news section, the paragraph said "...quite surprising, the man known to many as 'Zero' has been found innocent of the crimes…"

         He slammed the paper down. Tossing the burning cigarette into the fire, he stood up. The newspaper fell to the ground below him. He left it there. It was his home. This alley, this place that caused a hesitation in everyone before entering, was his home. And he was Zero. If he chose to leave a newspaper lying on the ground, then so be it. No one would stop by for room check anytime soon.

         Nor did he care about being especially neat at that moment. He had other things happening in his life. For weeks now, he simply was unsure about anything. What was happening to him? Where was he heading? Who was Zero? Questions that he wasn't sure he had the answer to.

         When he was fourteen and younger, he had been bullied and picked on by the other kids in Berkeley. One person in particular had made it his mission to lead the assault on the young Lint Douglas. He had made it his personal mission in life to make Lint's life a living hell. He attempted to do so by making sure that not a day would go by without there being some form of verbal assault hurled in Lint's direction. And for so long, that person had won that battle.

         He took it a step further. A nickname. Something that would signify what he thought Lint Douglas was to everyone around him. In the kid's mind, Lint Douglas was no more than a zero to the town of Berkeley. And so, he used the name as a direct insult to Lint Douglas. Lint took it. He took it, and was pushed until he could not be pushed any further.

         On one certain day, a day like any other day, the kid who would assault Lint with verbal and psychological assaults issued one statement that pushed everything too far. There was no real difference between what he said that day and what he had said any other. The only difference was the fact that Lint had had enough that day.

         He punched the kid in the nose. The nose began to issue an ungodly amount of blood. And by doing so, a fight broke out between the two. The kid won the fight, but he went home with a broken nose and newfound literal hatred for Lint Douglas. That was the day that Zero was born.

         Lint was on a mission, a personal mission. He could not stop there. He could not let this kid run over him at every chance. And so, he assumed the one thing that had been the kid's greatest attack. Lint Douglas dropped his real name and officially donned the "Zero" name from that day on.

         It caused tempers to flare. It caused fights to break out. And in turn, it also led to the insecurity in people that Zero would develop. It was the instinct to not trust anyone. He would have to always be on guard against anyone who would try to be nice to Zero. But in the end, Zero won his independence from this kid. In direct repercussion, though, he had also alienated himself from all others.

         Thinking back to those times, Zero looked back down at the stack of papers that lay at his feet. They were papers that told of the final product of Zero's life and choices. They documented events that had happened in his life. He looked at the newspapers that told of the time he had had to evade the police because of a warrant that was issued for his arrest. That stemmed from being the suspected culprit of the murders that had happened in the very alley where Zero stood.

         Thinking back to the whole reason why Zero had ever assumed the name "Zero," he sat back down on the crate. There was no reason to be "Zero" any longer. There was no one who he was trying to prove something to. The whole purpose behind the name was lost. Who was he fooling? He was Lint Douglas: Berkeley local and Gilman alley resident. And who was Zero? In Zero's mind, the name was simply a reason to show up someone who had taken advantage of him through the years of his early life. And living now, there was no need for it.

         Zero was unsure of what to do. Who was he? Was he Lint Douglas? Was he Zero? Was the importance to the name "Zero" lost? Zero did not know.

         Who was the kid from childhood? Zero thought back to those times, times over ten years previous. What was his name? Zero thought back.

         Theodore. His name was Theodore Balmore.