Bartholomew Nelson and the World of Zathya: The Prince and the Heir

“If that’s you, and that’s your mom, is that-”

“Yes Char, that’s my dad.” Bart didn’t know how he felt once he said it out loud. He couldn’t remember ever seeing his dad in person, so to see himself in a picture with him was weird. His mother always told him that his father left when he was born and that he never stayed around. However, this picture clearly contradicted that. And Bart knew it was his dad because the only other picture Bart had ever seen of the man was the one his mother had of him. He had the same eyes, same build, same hair, and same sharp features. So it wasn’t hard for Bart to recognize him.

“Wow, I’ve never seen your dad before,” Charlotte said as she took a closer look at the photo.

“I haven’t either,” Bart responded. “At least not in person. My mom always told me that he left when I was born. The only thing I have from him is this necklace.” Bart reached in his shirt and showed a small, clear, ball attached to a chain. It had a light blue color to it. “It glows in the dark.” Bart realized at that moment that he was wearing the necklace in the photo, too.

“Wait, if he left when you were born then why is he in this picture? You’re clearly older than a year here.”

Bart didn’t have an immediate answer for her. He wished he did, but the truth was he had no idea. There was no logical reason that his father was in this picture with him if he left when Bart was born.

“I don’t know,” he finally said giving into the frustration of not knowing what was going on. The two of them were silent for a little while longer as they continued to look at the picture. Bart was clearly upset, but he was even more confused. Why would his mother lie? Bart always trusted everything she said, and she never had a reason to lie to him. So why lie about this?

“Maybe we should get going, Bart. We don’t want your uncle to come back while we’re still in here.” Bart nodded in agreement and they packed everything back in the desk. They walked out and closed the door, and when they got downstairs Bart took the picture out of his pocket and started looking at it again. “You took the picture,” Charlotte said, shocked.

“Of course,” Bart replied calmly. “You didn’t expect me to leave it, did you?”

“Well actually, yeah I did. Are you crazy? Your uncle will notice in a heartbeat.” Bart ignored her and started to look back at the picture.

“There is no way I was going to leave it. I have to know the truth behind this Char. Besides its one picture he won’t notice.”

“Yeah? Let’s say he doesn’t figure it out. Just how are you going to go about finding the truth?” Charlotte asked. “You’re just going to waltz up to your mom and say what? ‘Oh hi mom, just wanted to know why you told me dad left when I was less than one and this picture says otherwise’. That doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“Actually it sounds pretty good to me,” Bart said. Charlotte looked at him for a good few seconds before realizing he wasn’t going to budge on this.

“Okay, fine, get us caught. I don’t care. I have to go anyway. I’ll see you tonight at the maze.” Bart didn’t respond but Charlotte stared at him for a few seconds to see if he was going to even acknowledge what she just said. After he didn’t, she lightly shoved him.

“What?” he said clearly irritated.

“I’m leaving, fart brain,” she said again.

“Oh, sorry, okay fine I’ll see you tonight.” Charlotte seemed pleased with the response, and then the two did their handshake. It was a rule that they never leave each other’s side without doing it, and they also did it when they made deals or bets. With that Charlotte left the house in a hurry. Bart just kept looking at the photo. Maybe this isn’t me, he thought to himself. But that was a ridiculous idea. He knew it was him, he could tell easily. Who doesn’t recognize themselves as a baby anyway? He continued to try and think of ideas that made it seem like his mother hadn’t lied but no matter what he came up with they all had the same end result: his mother had lied. Some lies were less severe but still a lie nonetheless. He decided he was going to ask his mom about the photo as soon as she got home. So he headed back to his house with the photo in hand. On his way back Stacey was sitting alone on the bench. Bart definitely didn’t want to be bothered right now, so he tried to hurry but she saw him before he could turn the corner.

“Bart!” she screamed as she ran to catch up. Bart quickly thought of his options. He could start sprinting and duck through some side streets and take the long way home. That wasn’t too bad of an idea since he knew that Stacey could not run in those heels she loved so dearly. On the other hand, running would cause a chain reaction that would eventually lead to Bart having to explain himself somewhere down the line when she did catch up with him. So the only other option would be to stop and talk. Bart reluctantly stopped and turned around just as she crossed the street and was standing inches away from him.

“What’s up, Stacey?” Bart asked, stepping back to give himself some room.

“Haven’t seen you in a couple days,” she said with a grin as she closed the distance again. “Thought maybe we could meet up tonight for the festival. I hear the maze is extra difficult this year.” Bart realized that no matter how many times he backed up, the distance would continuously be cut down so he stopped.

“Is that so?” he asked, still trying to find a way to make it out of this situation.

“Yeah,” she said as she took his hand. She felt the picture in his hand and snatched it before Bart had enough time to stop her. “Who’s this?”

“Okay, enough games Stacey, hand over the photo.” Bart had his hand extended, but Stacey paid him no mind. She just continued to study the pic.

“Bart is this you! Oh my God, you’re so cute! Can I have this please?” Stacey went from smiling from ear to ear to pleading with her puppy-dog face. Back when they used to date Stacey would use this face to get whatever she wanted. It worked because Bart thought it was so cute but in this instant with this picture and this request all it did was piss Bart off.

“Give me the photo,” Bart yelled as he grabbed her wrists and took the picture.

“Ouch Bart, that hurt,” she said while rubbing her wrists.

“Sorry, I just needed it back.” He was looking at it again and met his father’s eyes. Somehow, he’d become really attached to this photo. Of course he didn’t mean to hurt Stacey, but he didn’t want anything to happen to this picture.

“Who’s the guy in there with you anyway?” she asked as she tried to peak over and look at it again. Bart stuffed it in his pocket and then just turned away.

“No one,” he said coldly. “I’ll see you at the maze tonight.” Before Stacey could rejoice and jump out and hug him he took off down the street. He wanted to get home so he could question his mom. He needed to know the truth, and if lying to Stacey about meeting up at the maze was his only solution, then so be it.

When his mother finally got home, Bart had fallen asleep on the couch. It wasn’t until his mother walked in and spoke, that Bart awoke.

“Hey honey,” she said as she closed her umbrella and the door. Bart staggered to his feet and wiped the drool from the side of his mouth, a little embarrassed.

“It’s raining?” He wasn’t sure how long he had been out. It wasn’t raining when he got back to his house and it wasn’t raining before he fell asleep. He must’ve been out for a while. He stood up and started to stretch and that’s when he realized he wasn’t holding the photo. Bart started to panic, as he looked around frantically.

“Yes, it’s crazy out there. Good thing you got everything done before it started.”

“Yeah good thing,” Bart lied as he turned back towards the couch in hopes of spotting the picture.

“So was everything easily taken care of then?”

“What? Oh yeah it was nothing I couldn’t handle,” he lied again. He walked into the kitchen and that’s when he saw it. It was on the kitchen counter near the fridge. He darted towards the counter and grabbed the picture.

“Good,” Anna said. Then she came into the kitchen and started taking out food to cook for dinner. Anna was an amazing cook. When Bart was younger, people always used to come up to her and ask what she was cooking up for special events. Bart had heard the stories of how she was going to be the next best chef when she got older, but the Festival got in the way. According to his Uncle, Bart’s mom was headed to the best culinary school in the country when her father died and left her the Festival.

“It broke her heart,” Uncle Caleb told Bart one evening when Anna had fallen asleep after dinner. “It was a tough decision for her. I told her to go on with her life and become a famous chef and leave the festival to me. But it wasn’t that simple for her.”

“Why not?” Bart asked. “I would’ve just left. Who cares about a stupid festival when you’re that good at something?” Uncle Caleb just looked at the fire burning in the fireplace.

“Your family has been in charge of this festival since the beginning Bart. It was hard for her to be the end of that. Going to culinary school would mean she was the end of the line with the Festival. Tradition is important in our lives. She couldn’t bring herself to be the one to break that tradition. So she stayed.” Bart never understood the reasoning behind his mother’s decision but after that talk with his uncle, Bart never questioned her.

“What’s for dinner?” Bart asked as he watched his mom rummage around through the fridge.

“Just chicken alfredo tonight,” she replied as she turned on the oven. Bart continued to watch her work, but the whole time he was thinking about how to ask her about the picture. Eventually he decided to let it wait until they were eating and she was more relaxed.

After forty-five minutes, they sat down to eat. Bart was so nervous about asking his mom about the picture that fifteen minutes after they sat down, he still hadn’t touched his food. All he could think about was how to bring the question up.

“Not hungry tonight?” Anna asked politely as she looked at her son’s plate and back at him again. “I thought you liked chicken Alfredo.” Bart snapped out of his deep thinking and realized his mother was talking to him.

“Oh, um, sorry mom. I was zoned out for a minute,” he replied.

“More like fifteen but that’s fine. Just wrap your food up and put it in the fridge for later.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Bart said as he rose from the table. He walked into the kitchen, and decided that now was the best time to go for it. He just had to be brave and spit it out.

“Hey, Mom can I ask you something?”

“Sure honey, anything,” she said happily as she brought her dishes into the kitchen.

“Um,” Bart said nervously. He could feel the beads of sweat starting to form on the insides of his palm and on his forehead. Why is this so hard for me? He thought to himself.

“Sweetie?” His mom was washing some dishes, but it hadn’t slipped her notice that he was hesitating. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just, um. I just wanted to know exactly what happened between you and dad.” Great job Bart what kind of question was that? Nice way to start it off. Anna continued to wash dishes but her face wasn’t as happy as it was before.

“Why do you ask?” she said quietly.

“Just wondering,” he said quickly. “I never quite got the whole story.”

“Maybe when you’re older I will tell you.”

“Well it’s not like I’m five, mom. I’m fifteen.”

“Yes well, you are still young in my book.”

“Oh come on,” Bart said.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Bart could hear the irritation in her voice growing as he persisted, but that didn’t stop him.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because I said so,” she responded. She was scrubbing the dishes a lot harder now and her face was turning red.

“That doesn’t work on me anymore, mom.” Bart clearly didn’t care that his mom seemed to be getting upset as he started to push the subject more. “If you don’t want to tell me that at least tell me when was the last time he came to see me.” His mom just continued to wash the dishes and she ignored his request. “No? Don’t want to tell me that?” The sarcasm in his voice was starting to have an effect on his mom, and he could see it as she began to frown. “Was I a baby? Is that why I can’t remember?”

“No sweetheart. I told you he left before you were born.” Bart wasn’t sure if she made a mistake or if she meant to say “before” but he knew he heard her correctly.

“Before? I thought you said it was right after?” Anna paused for a second and then started washing again.

“Yes, that’s what I said sweetie, right after you were born.” She was definitely frazzled by the questioning and Bart was starting to feel bad. Regardless of the fact that this picture contradicted everything his mom told him about his dad, this was still his mom. She had cared for him his whole life and she never left him behind or vanished. She didn’t deserve any trouble from Bart. She was a single mom who did a great job raising him. However, Bart couldn’t ignore the fact that she was lying to him now. And that caused him to press on.

“Mom, you’re lying,” he said in a very calm voice.

“And what makes you say such a thing,” she said, her voice rising slightly.

“This picture,” said Bart as he slapped the picture on the counter next to the sink. His mother stopped washing dishes immediately and stared at the photo. Her face was pale and without expression as she looked at it for a good several seconds.

“Where did you get this?” she asked softly. Bart looked at her for a few seconds before answering. She was shocked at the bomb he just dropped in front of her and he could tell.

“It doesn’t really matter does it? All that matters is you lied. Now I want to know why.” Anna slowly started drying her hands and then took the picture.

“This conversation is over, Bart,” she said in that same soft but stern voice.

“No mom, it’s just beginning. When was this picture taken?”

“Did you hear me? I said this conversation is over!”

“No!” Bart screamed back.

“You are not the parent here, Bartholomew, and I will not have you talking to me like this! I am done talking about this and you are done asking! Now get up to your room right now or you won’t see the light of day for a month!” As angry as Bart was he couldn’t stop his mom from storming off and up the steps. Within seconds her door slammed and Bart was left standing alone in the kitchen. His anger was starting to boil over as he stood there questioning why his mother walked off. Is the truth that hard to tell? He stormed up the steps after her and walked into his room slamming the door just as she did. Whatever, Bart said to himself as he lied down in the bed. He didn’t understand why his mother was so mad. Of course he yelled at her, which could be one reason, but she seemed angrier at the presence of the photo than she did about him yelling at her. He decided that he would just let it go until later on after the pressure of the Festival was over. It was 6 o’clock, and the festival started in one hour. Bart was still tired. The nap on the couch didn’t do enough justice, so he decided another nap wouldn’t hurt. He could be fifteen minutes late, and no one would care. He dozed off the moment his eyes closed.

When Bart woke up it was already 9:30 at night. “Great,” he said as he got up. “I overslept.” He took a shower and got dressed and then he went downstairs to confront his mother. He was sure she would still be a little upset about what happened, but since the Festival had started, she probably wouldn’t be thinking about it. When he got downstairs however, he was surprised to discover his mother wasn’t there. “I guess she went without me,” he said as he looked in the fridge for a drink. After he got everything together, he headed out to the Festival. During the whole walk, he couldn’t help but think about the argument he had with his mother. She was angrier than usual, and he didn’t really get a chance to apologize. Thinking about it though was making him angry all over again, so he decided to forget about it for now. Looking around he saw that everyone from out of town was already enjoying most of the Festival. The line for the haunted house stretched around the corner of the supermarket, and tons of kids flocked to the darts booth. Bart noticed the sign by the huge town field that said that the family Olympics was down to the final four families. As he passed the field he realized he didn’t recognize any of the families. It would be the tenth year in a row that an out of town family won the Olympics. Bart was positive some of these families trained for this. Then again, maybe his town just didn’t have anyone who could compete or even cared. After he crossed the field he came to the entrance to the maze but he didn’t see Stacey, which was a good sign. He thought about heading over to the supermarket where Charlotte most likely was. Charlotte’s dad was the owner of the supermarket, and it was always packed around festival time. Everyone staying in the local hotels wanted to stock up for the weekend. Mr. Cole could use all the help he could get. Just as he was about to turn and walk away, Stacey Artsy walked right up and hugged him.

“Hi Bart,” she said with a huge smile on her face showing off her pearly white teeth. Behind her there were three of the blonde brigade members.

“Hey Stacey,” Bart said, obviously a little annoyed. “Ladies,” he said to the others.

“You ready to go into the maze?” asked Stacey as she looped her arm in Bart’s. “I could be your partner like we discussed earlier.”

“Did we discuss that earlier? Must’ve slipped my mind,” Bart said nonchalantly. The girls laughed, as it was clear Stacey was embarrassed by Bart’s reply. Stacey shot them all a very dirty look.

“Yes Bart, remember? We said we could get lost together. Get it? Lost in a maze?” The other girls started laughing and saying things like “Good one, Stacey,” and “Very clever”. “We could be lost all alone together,” she continued. Bart knew exactly what she was implying, and he wanted no parts of her plan. It also irritated him that she used such a corny line. That was another reason why Bart would never be with her; she wasn’t funny at all.

“Yeah, um that sounds great but um I can’t, I got to, um, go find my mom.”

“Oh your mom won’t mind,” Stacey said as she started to pull him towards the maze entrance. “We won’t be lost for long, unless you want to be.” Her smile beamed across her face.

“No, I’m sure she needs me now,” Bart said as he tried to pry his arm lose from her grip. Stacey was awkwardly strong for such a petite girl. Maybe he hadn’t really hurt her wrists earlier after all.

“Oh come on Barty, don’t ruin all the fun. Show me that bad boy inside you. Since when do you listen to your mom all the time anyway?” Just as Bart was about to give up trying, Charlotte came to his rescue.

“Oh there you are Bart. Your mom is looking all over for you. She needs help with the haunted house.” Stacey gave her the same death glare she gave her flunkies. “Hi Stacey,” she said with a grin. “I can tell her I couldn’t find you if you want, Bart.” Charlotte smiled, as she knew Bart needed a way out but teasing him with the thought of being stuck with Stacey all night was too fun.

“Yes, why don’t you do that, Charlotte?” Stacey said with a cold tone and icy eyes. All her friends were staring at Charlotte making disgusting faces. They all were into blonde hair and fancy clothes so Charlotte’s brunette hair and jeans with an old-school Kiss rock band tee shirt wasn’t to their liking.

“No problem,” Charlotte responded as she turned to walk away.

“No, no, I shouldn’t keep my mom waiting,” Bart said using Stacey’s distraction with Charlotte to finally wiggle his arm loose. “We will have to reschedule the maze rendezvous for another time.” With that, Bart darted away with Charlotte and back across the field. When they were a good distance away, they slowed down and started laughing. “Thanks a lot Char. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah I thought it was funny for awhile. Then I saw you failing, and I decided to step in.”

“Wait,” Bart said, stopping in his tracks. “You were there the whole time? You Jerk! You should’ve stepped in sooner.” Charlotte just laughed and laughed as his anger rose.

“And miss the look on your face when she said you could get lost together? Not a chance.” Bart glared at her. “Oh Bart come get lost with me in a maze of endless love,” she jokingly mocked. Bart chased after her all the way around the haunted house and towards the bobbing for apples station. When they finally stopped they decided to go watch the finals of the family Olympics. Bart decided to tell Charlotte what had happened earlier with his mom.

“So she was that upset?” Charlotte asked when Bart finished.

“Yeah,” he said. “And the thing is, I don’t even get why. All she had to do was tell me the truth and all this could’ve been avoided.” Charlotte didn’t know what to really say and Bart could tell. She was just as confused as he was about the whole situation. Charlotte had never really had a problem with her dad so she wouldn’t understand why a parent would lie to their only child. Charlotte was her father’s only child and it was just the two of them since Charlotte could remember. She never met her mother just like Bart never met his father. The difference, was that Charlotte’s dad always spoke highly of her mother. He used to tell Charlotte stories about her mother’s adventures and how she was such an amazing person. According to him, she was the greatest woman ever. But she died when Charlotte was just a baby so she doesn’t remember her at all. So Charlotte could relate to what Bart is going through a little but not completely.

When the intermission for the competitors came up, Bart spotted his uncle down by the fence.

“Char, I’m going to go talk to Uncle Caleb about it,” Bart said as he stood up but Char grabbed him and sat him down.

“Um, are you out of your mind? In case you forgot, you stole that picture from your uncle’s desk. How do you think he will take it if you tell him that? Uncle C just wanted to ask you why my mom wants to kill me over a photo I stole from you. No big deal.” Bart thought about what she said, and it was pretty obvious that she was right.

“Fine, I won’t be so specific. But I have to know why she was so mad. Maybe I could just ask about my dad. What about that?”

“That’s a better plan but still risky.”

“Well I’ve got to do something.” Bart got up and sprinted over to his uncle who didn’t see him coming. “Hey Uncle Caleb,” he said as he stood next to him.

“Bart, hey how’s it hanging?” Uncle Caleb said startled by the sudden appearance of Bart.

“It’s good just enjoying the competition.”

“Great one isn’t it? We need to get one of our locals to start winning. Maybe next year you and I can compete, what do you say?”

“Yeah, um maybe,” Bart said trying not to be so obvious about how he didn’t want to do it.

“Well that’d be a good way to show town pride,” he said with a smile. Bart was hesitant at first to ask the question. He didn’t even know where to begin. The anxiety he was feeling was killing him so he decided to come on slow.

“Hey, Uncle Caleb can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, anything,” Caleb said back.

“You knew my father right?” Bart’s question clearly caught his uncle off guard. For a split second his eyes widened but almost as quickly, they went back to normal.

“Of course I did,” he responded carefully. “Why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to know what kind of guy he was. My mom doesn’t like talking about him much so I don’t know too much about him.”

“I don’t know if I should step on your mom’s toes with this one, Bart. If she doesn’t talk about him with you, maybe there is a good reason.” Bart felt a little discouraged but he didn’t want to give up.

“Please Uncle C, I really want to know something about him. What did he do? Where was he from? Anything, please.” Uncle Caleb looked at Bart and then he finally gave in.

“Okay fine. But if Anna asks, you didn’t get this from me.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Your father was a great man, smart, athletic, brave, and adventurous. He’s obviously where you get your crazy side from.” Bart smiled as he imagined his father being just like him when he was young. He pictured his dad doing crazy stunts and dares just because he could. “He never backed down from a challenge and most of the time he won. That’s how he met your mom.”

“He met her through a challenge?”

“Yep,” Caleb said. “I was with him and our Ki-” he paused for a second and then continued. “I mean his kid cousin Lazarus. But Lazarus was barely around. He was busy with a lot of other things. He was interested in politics and stuff.”

“What happened to him?” asked Bart.

“That’s a long story for another day. Anyway one day we were at the market and your mom walked in. Lazarus bet you father that he couldn’t get her to go on a date with him. So naturally, he asked my permission before he went over, her being my sister and all and then your dad accepted the bet and walked right over to her and started talking to her.”

“Just like that? He got her to say yes just like that?”

“No, no, he walked away after getting slapped clean across his face. But that just got him even more interested. Within the next two weeks they were dating.”

“Wow, go dad,” Bart said excitedly.

“Yeah, I know. Anyway they were married shortly after. He never changed though. He was still the same old Alex, always up for a challenge.” Bart’s smile turned quickly into a frown as he looked out at the field.

“I guess he wasn’t up for the challenge of being a father, huh?” he said coldly.

“Bart, that isn’t fair. Your dad loved you and he loved your mother, too. It’s just sometimes things happen that we can’t control.”

“Yeah well nothing could ever make me want to leave my family,” Bart said, clearly becoming agitated.

“Bart,” Caleb started but Bart just shook his head.

“Thanks Uncle Caleb, but I should get back to Charlotte.” He turned and left before his uncle could say another word. However, instead of going back to sit with Charlotte he headed back towards his house. He was tired of the Festival for the night, and he wasn’t in the most joyous of moods anymore. Whatever reason his father had for leaving, Bart didn’t agree with it. Bart was sure he could’ve ignored it. Plus, even if he couldn’t, he could have at least visited or called once in a while. Heck, Bart would even accept a letter but nothing ever came. The more Bart thought about it the more angry he got not just at his dad but at his mom, too. His mom was lying to him and his dad was never there. “I hate you all,” he screamed as he walked down the street towards his house. The closer he got to his house the more he started to feel like something was wrong. Bart couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something in the pit of his stomach told him something was wrong. He knew it was weird, but Bart has had this feeling before. Whenever there seemed to be some kind of small trouble, Bart knew something bad would happen. It happened when Charlotte slipped when they were riding bikes and broke her arm. Before she fell, Bart knew something wasn’t right, and about two minutes later she didn’t jump the curb fast enough and fell. So at this moment he didn’t know why but he knew something was wrong. He got to his house and saw that the living room light was on. That’s strange, he thought. I didn’t leave it on. I know I didn’t. He opened the door and standing there was a boy, a little taller than Bart with his back turned. “Hey!” Bart screamed as he slammed the door. “You broke into the wrong house tonight, buddy!” The boy turned around and looked directly at Bart and smiled as Bart put his hands up ready for a fight.

“Bartholomew Nelson,” he said calmly. “It is an honor to finally meet you.”