Chapter 11
Intermezzo
Nom got into his car outside of Lake Church, and finally managed to bring his laughter under control. Ater sadly would only live a few more weeks at most. Nom wished that he could keep him alive forever with no more mental power than knowing what he had been and what he now was. Unfortunately, Nom did not think that this would be possible. He could command things to die, he could even tell them how and when to die, but was certain he did not have the power of life.
Before going to the church that morning, he attempted to resurrect the dead. He started large and went smaller. A bit of road kill, a dead tree, a desiccated flower, all proved immovable by his will. He knew that his powers were not limited to humans, he could drop pesky flies at a whim. No, his power was a one-way street. He would have to be careful.
"This could prove to be a problem." He mused. What if he killed when he should have spared a life? What would he do in such a scenario? The run of the mill psychopath would have not cared, and Nom did not really care either. The average individual human meant less to him than the microbes feasting on a dog's shit. It was the collective that he cared about. Still there was the rare human capable of bringing about great change and good, it meant he had to be judicious in his culling, lest he eliminate the next Einstein before they had their impact.
In his earliest memories, Nom always had difficulty in emoting and socializing with other people. In elementary school, when the other boys had all gone to play basketball on the black top, Nom had gone off by himself. The Christian school he had attended had mandated that the genders be segregated during recesses, which was fine by Nom; he was still in the cooties stage. He'd would climb to the top of the monkey bars on the boys' playground and survey his domain. From there he would create fantasy worlds and rule over all that his mind could create.
Basketball was not hard, but it was boring and stupid. One boy would bounce a ball with both hands then try to throw it into a rim designed for the high schoolers. None of them could do it, and so they always missed. But no matter how many times they missed, the next boy would call for his turn, and try to put the ball into the rim. How could they be so stupid to not see that they were simply too small? Nom despised them, and wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately for him, the teacher refused to oblige him.
Occasionally, the boys in his class would come over to try and coax or harass him into joining them. Usually the teacher would cajole them into trying. Nom would simply ignore their existence and stay in his realms. The teacher would then come over and command him to join the boys. When Nom ignored her, she would try to drag him down from his perch. Nimble like a bird, Nom would scamper to higher levels far out of her reach and resume his musing. Once the teacher actually climbed up after him. When she got close enough, Nom spat in her face and scampered a few feet away. Stunned by this assault, the teacher had fallen off the monkey bars. Fortunately for her, it was only an eight foot fall, but she still managed to severely bruise herself.
When Nom finally came down at the end of recess, she hauled him to the principal's office. His parents had already been called, and his mother was on her way. With the help of the principal holding him down, Nom had been paddled until he had literally begged his teacher for her forgiveness.
Even at that time Nom had only seen the individuals around him as resources to accomplish his whims. He could not understand why he was being forced to socialize. Other people meant rules and having to do what other people wanted. If one of the boys had asked to join him in his fantasy games, Nom would probably have told him to go away. The worlds in his head were so much better and all the people there did exactly what he wanted them to. Another player would mean that they too were a god in his realm.
Being a Christian school, Nom was not only graded on how well he scored academically but on how good of a Christian he was. Twenty years later, Nom found an old box during a move that held his old grade school report cards. By this time, he had discovered his atheism, the biblical command to: "Judge not lest Ye be judged," rang in his mind, as he read over his failing "Christian life" scores: Godliness- unsatisfactory, patience- unsatisfactory, obedience- unsatisfactory, fellowship- unsatisfactory. As with all other Christian institutions the sweet taste of their hypocrisy was a fine delicacy to Nom.
Nom left Lake Church and returned to his room at the Holiday Inn. He knew that dawdling in Texas would be an easy way to get caught, so he decided to get an early start and head for his next target. He had a few old scores to settle.