The Speed of Sound (Speed of Sound Thrillers #1)(16)

“Always?”

“Since the day he first walked through the door.”





CHAPTER 14

Eddie’s Childhood Home, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, April 9, 2001, 4:00 p.m.

Eddie was eleven years, two months, seven days, and eight hours old when the envelope containing the brochure arrived at his home. His father brought it in from the mailbox. “What the hell is Harmony House?” he muttered out loud, in an accent that was pure Philadelphia. Their town house was small but respectable, a perfectly fine place for a residential electrician to call home in South Philly.

“I don’t know what Harmony House is,” Eddie answered. He had no such accent.

His father, Victor Parks, rarely got such official-looking envelopes except ones he didn’t want, like from the IRS or some stupid lawyer. “Shut up, Eddie. I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Who are you talking to? I’m the only other person here.”

Victor stopped and stared at his son. “You know how I told you there are some times I just need you to be quiet?”

“Yes.”

“This is one of ’em.”

Eddie turned back to the computer he had disassembled, whose parts now covered the kitchen table along with a half-eaten cheesesteak.

Victor passed him without looking up from the large envelope. “You’re going to be able to put all that back together, right?”

Eddie didn’t answer.

Victor repeated the question a little louder. “Right?”

Eddie still didn’t answer.

“Right, goddammit?”

“I thought this was one of those times you just need me to be quiet.”

“Answer the question!” Victor yelled.

Eddie yelled in response, “Yes, I am going to be able to put it back together.”

Shaking his head, Victor moved into the den, where he opened the brochure to Harmony House. Included in the packet was a letter addressed to Victor: Dear Mr. Parks, Harmony House is a government facility uniquely qualified to help your son, Edward . . .

The more Victor read, the more excited he became. Eddie could hear his father’s breathing get faster with excitement, kind of like it did sometimes when he watched the Eagles playing football on television. Harmony House said it could take good care of people with special needs like Eddie, and even help him in ways nowhere else could.

Best of all, it wasn’t going to cost Victor a dime.

When given a winning lottery ticket, most people don’t wonder how they came to receive it. They’re just lucky, they figure. The same was true of the parents who’d received brochures from Harmony House.

Five days later, Eddie packed his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles suitcase and got into the car with his father. “This is for the best,” Victor told him on the drive from Philadelphia. “These are people who can help you a hell of a lot better than I can. It’s not that I don’t want to, believe me.”

Eddie nodded, knowing with certainty that his father was not telling the truth. Eddie didn’t understand why people sometimes told the truth and sometimes lied. He just knew that was the case. Dr. Fenton would later tell him that he was the best human lie detector ever tested.

Upon taking exit 24A off the 295 into Woodbury, Victor glanced at his son. “They will even help you with your experiments, which you know I never could.” At least this statement was true. Why they would help Eddie was something else entirely.

Eddie looked out the window of his father’s Volkswagen Bug as they rode up a long driveway. An eight-foot-high barbed-wire fence lined the perimeter, but most of it was hidden by lush greenery. Rolling lawns and beautiful gardens surrounded the facility. There was a single guard at the driveway gate who already knew Victor’s and Eddie’s names. They were expected. Victor was surprised by how poorly marked the place was, almost like they didn’t want anyone knowing about it who didn’t already know. That was, of course, exactly the idea.

“Do they have yellow Jell-O?” Eddie grinned mischievously. He could never mention his favorite food without cracking an awkward smile, which was the only kind he knew how to make. Purple Jell-O, or any other purple food, had the exact opposite effect on Eddie. But yellow Jell-O was the one food that was as fun to say as it was to eat. Eddie’s question was also an invitation to play the one game he and his father could enjoy together. The Rhyming Game.

“I bet so, don’t you know. But if they do not, uh, make another pot.”

“Am I to believe that I can just leave?”

Victor struggled to rhyme his reply. “Uh, no, I don’t think so. I doubt you can just go.”

“So this is my jail where I will receive no bail?”

“Look, Eddie, you can’t think of it like that.”

Eddie raised his hands in triumph because Victor’s response didn’t rhyme. “The winner and still champion.” He had memorized the response watching professional wrestling. Eddie liked games. He wished his father would have played more with him, but his father just didn’t seem to like them, so Eddie settled for the Rhyming Game.

“Yellow Jell-O.” Eddie’s smile slowly faded as he stepped out of the car and onto the grounds of Harmony House for the very first time. He closed his eyes and stood completely still, slowly rotating his head from side to side. Victor knew enough not to get out of the car, or ask Eddie a question, until his son spoke first.