+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The night it happened, I was already at the end of my
tether. On his first day at his new school, my
12-year-old son, Ben, had managed to get sent home for
smoking in the toilet. I'd got a call at two in the
afternoon from the principal, who asked me to come and
collect him.
As we left the school building, my son perversly proud
of himself.
'Can we get take-out on the way home?' he asked
jauntily.
'Listen you,' I said in a low voice. 'We've barely got
enough money for groceries. I couldn't afford to get
take-out even if I wanted too.'
Ben pretended not to hear.
As we pulled out of the parking lot, he started
humming the repititious base line to some stupid rap
song.
'Ben, cut it out,' I said through clenched teeth. Ben
threw his backpack on the floor of the speeder. 'I
hate you!' he screamed. 'I want to go and live with my
real dad!'
I pulled over and slammed on the brakes. 'Your "real
dad" doesn't give a damn about you!' I screamed back
at him. 'Luke is your real father!'
As I pulled back onto the road, Ben broke into sobs. I
didn't care. After 12 years of Ben's destructive
behavior, I was emotionally exhausted. Luke and I,
desperate to get Ben away from the bad crowd he was
running with on Corusant, had managed to make huge
sacrifices to buy a not so crowded apartment. But Ben
seemed hell-bent on ruining his life.
Storm clouds were massing over head. It was only
three, but the sky was so dark, it might have been
early evening. A few minutes later, fat raindrops hit
the windscreen. I turned on the headlights, struggling
to see the road ahead.
I felt the impact first. Slamming on the brakes, I saw
a grey form collide with the front of the speeder.
'What was that?' cried Ben.
'Don't move!' I said in a terrible voice and goto ut
of the car. Walking over to the roadside, I saw the
huddled figure - a vagrant probably - and I'd killed
him. In shock and panic, I left the inert form lying
there.
'An animal of some sort,' I said to Ben, getting back
into the speeder. 'It's dead.'
The rest of the trip home, Ben stared silently out the
window. When we got home, I sent Ben to his room, then
ran a hot bath. Lying in the bath, I tried to stop my
hands from shaking. It wasn't your fault, I told
myself. He was in the middle of the road. He died
instantly - there's no point in calling the police. I
submerged myself in the water, trying to purge the
image of the huddled form in my mind.

Just as my panic was subsiding, I realised something
was missing. The beaded bracelet Luke had bought from
a street vendor was no longer on my wrist. Where had I
dropped it? Calm down, I told myself. There must be
thousands of bracelets just like it. And after all
that rain, its probably got washed down a drain or
something.
When Luke came home that night, I told him about Ben
being sent home. 'So much for the healthy effects of
moving to a less crowded area.' He said wearily,
sinking into his armchair. My sense of having done the
right thing by not reporting the accident was
reinforced. Luke simply could not bear any more
misfortune.
The drifters corpse was discovered that evening, and
the accident was briefly reported on the 11 o'clock
news. There was a small item buried down the bottom of
the news datapad but, thankfully, no mention of any
bracelet found at the scene.
In the weeks that followed, an odd conspiracy
developed between my son and me. Ben still didn't talk
to me much, but at least he was no longer defying me
at every turn. He continued to perform poorly at
school, but was no longer a discipline problem.
As spring turned into summer, I began to think less of
the accident. I found an admiistrative job and slowly
our financial worries ceased. I had nearly pushed that
rainy day out of my head when the shadowy figure first appeared.

----------

Luke was dozing on the couch, I was reading a novel, and Ben was spawled out on the floor in front of the holo-vid.. A light cool breeze fluttered the curtains, drawing my attention to the window. Outside the window, was the silhouette of a man. He was a grey, featureless figure, standing slightly to one side, as if trying to watch us without being observed.
"Luke!" I hissed.
"Ummm?" Luke responded sleepily.
"THere's someone out there!" I cried, pointing at the window.
Luke jumped up and strode over to the window, peering into the darkness.
"I'll have a look around," he said, grabbing the fire poker. After a walk around the halls, Luke returned. "Nobody there," he said, putting the fire poker back and settling back onto the couch.
"Mum's seeing things," said Ben muttered, yawning.
THe incident unsettled me. But the Grey Man, as I had come to think of him, had far worse in store.
A couple of weeks later, Luke and Ben went into the main city. But I was left alone, shelling peas at the kitchen table and I scarcely noticed the sun go down. In the deepening twilight, I got up to put a roast in the oven, something in the living room caught my eye.

He was there, at the same window. His face was still in shadow; I could see only the suggestion of eyes and a mouth, stubble on the chin. I bolted upstairs into the bathroom and locked the door.
It was an hour later when Luke and Ben came home. On hearing them, I turned on the bathtub tap.
"Mara, where are you?" Luke cried.
"Having a bath!" I yelled over the noise of the running water. Luke tapped on the bathroom door. "COme in," I called out, forgetting I'd locked the bathroom door. Cursing my stupidity, I let him in.
"Having a bath?" Luke asked conversationally, giving me a kiss.
"Um, yeah," I said, feeling silly. I was completely naked, and dripping water all over the floor. Luke looked at me.
"Is that why you left the oven on and the meat on the kitchen counter?"
I sat down on the toilet. "Please bring me my bathrobe." I said.
Luke came back in a few minutes with my bathrobe and a phial of massage oil. I followed him to the bedroom.
"Where's Ben?" I asked as I lay down on the rug.
"Eyes glued to the box. We picked up a couple of holo-videos." I let Luke work on my shoulders. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked after a while.