Prologue
Morgan Battles a Robot
-1-
Eight years before the
Trap
From
the first time they met, she was pushy and assertive. She grabbed control, and stood on the moral high
ground, and no one could take this queen off the mountain top.
Third
grade was a good year for Lance. His classmates and the teacher discovered that
he was an excellent reader, and could read aloud with accuracy, intensity, and
excitement. Mrs. Russell had attempted to
read a novel about John Smith and Pocahontas, and did poorly at holding their attention. So, she let Lance try it one day, and Lance
became the class reader for the rest of the year. No one cared that he was
horrible at athletics. They even elected
him as their student council representative.
The prettiest girls would jostle over who got to share a table with him
at lunch.
But
none of this impressed Morgan LaDona Tigh.
Oh, no. Not at all. She stared at him as if he were the lowest
form of criminal. “You leave my cousin
alone, you big bully!” There she stood, her hands planted on her hips, her
curled auburn hair framing her pretty but stern face.
Lance
was stunned. He’d been called all kinds
of names in his young life, but never anything remotely like bully. That was farthest removed from anything he
had ever thought of himself. And now
this mean girl from another classroom was chastising him in the middle of the
playground.
There
was a second-grade boy who was terrorizing a couple of the girls from his
class, Peggy Weston and Lisa Carlton, and he was going to put a stop to
it. After all, he was the class student
council rep, and he was pumped up, full of himself, ready to be the class
hero. He almost wished he had a cape,
like he used to in first grade, using a
jacket to rescue Damsels in distress.
The
young bully had snapped some rubber bands at them, and then ran around them,
pulling their hair, laughing all the while he was doing it. Not on
my watch, Super Lance thought. He
put himself in-between the boy and the two girls. Lance puffed himself up as
best he could, and said, “You need to cut this out and stop right now!”
"Don’t
tell me what to do! I was just funning
with them girls! They like that stuff!” the
boy defiantly asserted.
"Really?
That’s a buncha a hooey! Right, Peggy?”
Lance turned around to get confirmation, only to find that the girls
were no longer there.
“Ya
scared ‘em off, ya big dip!” he screamed.
Then he ran up to Lance and punched him in the gut. Lance scrunched up, amazed at how much it
hurt. Angry, when he righted himself, he
pushed the boy down to the ground.
And
that’s when she came in. "You leave
my cousin alone, you big bully!”
Lance
was confused. What was going on? He was the hero, not the villain. Didn’t she see that? “He-he was pushing some girls around, chasing
them, pulling their hair!”
Morgan
scoffed. “What girls? Where?
All I see is a big ol’ third grader pushing around a little second
grader!” She turned to her cousin and
stroked the top of his head. "Did he hurt you, Elmer? Are you gonna be okay?”
"I’m
fine, Morgy. I woulda kicked his butt if
ya hadn’t stopped us,” said Elmer.
“Sure,
you would. Run along now while I deal
with this goon. And never call me Morgy again.”
Goon? That was another new one
for Lance. He was racking up the
invectives this recess!
Elmer
scampered off, perhaps to find easier prey to harass. Morgan, looking stern, moved closer and
closer to his face. His heart beat
faster. She was scary, and he should be
scared. She was only inches away from
him, looking up at him, as he was slightly taller. "Now, I’m not sure who
you are. I don’t ever think I’ve had a
class with you before.”
"I’m,
uh, I’m Lance Martin.”
“Really?”
she thought about it for a second. “You
know what? I don’t rightly care. If I did have a class with you, it must have
been downright forgettable. But you remember
this! I am Morgan Tigh, and don’t you
ever forget it! If I ever see you
threaten Elmer again, I will find you and make your life a living hell. Do you understand?”
He
stared into her determined sky-blue eyes. contempt dripping from her. He should have been scared or defiant or
something, but all he could think about was the way she smelled, like sweet
cream and vanilla and raspberries.
"He
leaves my friends alone, and I’ll leave him alone. Deal?” Lance answered, unable to take his
eyes off her, unable to stop drinking in her wonderful scent.
She
stared silently back for a moment. Time
froze. There was a connection made in
his mind that would last for years. She
might not share it, but he would be thinking about her all the way to high
school. “Deal,” she finally spoke. “Just if you see him start to do something wrong,
get me first. If he’s acting up, I’ll
bop him myself.” Years later, he thought
he remembered her giving a slight flickering of a smile. But maybe not. Maybe time was just playing tricks on his
memory.
Before
he could say anything else, she was gone.
Vanished. The bell rang ending
recess, but he didn’t move. Eventually, Mrs.
Russell had to come over and urge him to come inside.
That
was the first time Lance had met Morgan.
It stayed burned in his mind. He
had a crush on her for years afterwards, until he finally thought of himself as
not being in her league.
The
Trap would change all that, and reverse their roles. But one thing never changed. She was a fierce, passionate person, always committing
herself full speed. Sometimes it was for
the better. And often, unfortunately,
sometimes it was for the worst.
One
thing was for sure, though. They were
now inextricably intertwined.
And
now that they had escaped the Trap, and Lance was imprisoned, they needed each
other more than ever.
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