Castle Roland


by Kyle Aarons

Short Story


Published: 8 Apr 14

Copyright © 2012 - 2014 by Kyle Aarons and the Revolutions Universe Partnership.

All Rights Reserved

May 4th 2008,

Hugh LogoHugh glanced up from his homework. In the background a half dozen other kids, his so called foster brothers, screamed and yelled. It was pretty clear Tommy had pulled Jackie's hair again and Nick was telling the world about it. He rolled his eyes and looked down as he concentrated on the multiplication tables. It was one thing to do up to twenty times twenty, he had those memorized, but once it switched to bring three digits multiplied by thee digits his brain just seemed to overload.

Such was the case as the rest of his 'foster siblings' ignored school work as normal, instead choosing to play. His latest foster parents didn't hold school work as important as his prior ones did, which also meant it would do no good for him to go to them for help. Getting good grades, however, was one thing which made him feel good, so he pushed on, doing his best without help.

For the third time he put the numbers on paper and came up with an answer. He then input the two numbers into the calculator only to see his answer was once again wrong. He stared at the calculator and back to his scribbles starting to wonder, if the stupid thing was wrong and he was right. The problem was, he knew better. His fingers drummed on the kitchen table of almost five minutes as his brain looked at the numbers only to come up with the same answer over and over.

So self-absorbed in the homework he became, his brain never took notice of how quite the house had become. He didn't notice the two men walking in behind him, both of them watching him work. As a matter of fact, he didn't even see them as they walked around the house and talked to the other kids and the foster parents.

It wasn't until the two men, holding hands, came back into the kitchen and talked to him, did he finally take notice. He glanced up as his foster mom tapped him on the shoulder only to see two men looking at him somewhat questioningly.

With a cock of his head, Hugh looked up. You need something mister... um misters?"

"Not really," the shorter man answered, "We where just looking to see if anyone wants a home."

A smirk slid across Hugh's face, "The little ones are back in the play room mister. I'm sure all of them do. We older kids all used to dream about it."

"Used to?" The other asked with a deep frown.

Hugh nodded, "Yeah, used to. None of us have ever seen a kid older than seven get a real home, and I'm nine." The boy's voice held no anger, no resignation, instead it was total acceptance.

At this the two men exchanged glanced while the taller one sat down across the table form Hugh, "I'm Mr. Prantis, what is your name?"

"Hugh." The youngster smiled, my real name is Miller, but we all tend to take the last name of whatever foster house we live in, so I tell people my last name is Deacon now. Next month I'll probably learn a new one, since this house is more for little kids, though."

"Do you like it here?" Mr. Prantis all but demanded to know.

"I've had way worse!" Hugh stated with total conviction. "You guys aren't like social workers checking on the Gaily's are you?"

"Should we be?" The shorter man wanted to know while half snarling.

"If they still have a kid there, probably," Hugh shrugged. "But we all know you ain't gunna do nothing. The house is clean, they feed your kids, and get your kids to school in clean clothes with homework done. They really know math too..." Hugh let out a long sigh as he finally crumpled up his attempt at the first three math problems and tossed them into the trash can in the opposite corner of the room.

"Nice shot!" Mr. Prantis proclaimed as the paper went into the dead center of the small plastic container.

"I'm better at basketball than multiplication." Hugh admitted with a grin, "I don't know why they put me in the next grade up. I don't get all A's no more."

Mr. Prantis moved the chair around to Hug's side and pointed to the math book, "Let's see what you are doing. I bet I can help."

Hugh eagerly pulled out a new sheet of paper, "You guys are way different than my normal social worker."

The men said nothing, but the looks they gave each other communicated volumes. With the Bryce administration allowing gays to adopt, the two men went through the process, got qualified and were thinking of taking in a younger boy. However, this was no longer the case. They had found their son, Hugh just didn't know it yet.


Scott knelt next to the grievously injured boy and started to put his hand over the wound, but Hugh pushed the hand away as he leaned back against Scott's knee, "Tell my dads... Jake and Hollister... Jake Prantis... tell them they could make me forget my name, but they couldn't make me forget theirs... Promise me you will tell them..." A moment later he coughed up a large amount of blood and a final breath escaped his lips before he fell forward, unmoving, while Scott held on him and cried.