"How did you get here?" Wilson asked her.
"No, wait, what exactly is going on?"
"Come, come, let's sit." Silvia dragged him to a bench by the side of a small cottage that blended well with its environ.
The little bench looked like any other wooden furniture but was softer and more comfortable than anything Wilson had ever come across. Charlie remained a distance away. Already he was bored out of his mind. He had no business getting involved in the mother and son moment, but his watch, phones and spatial ring and bracelet did not work in wherever this place was. He had no means of entertaining himself, so he just laid on the soft grass and let his mind stray.
"I really don't understand. How did Charlie know about this place? How long have you been here? When did you leave home? Where are we, even?"
"Calm down." Silvia said, smiling widely. She did not say a word for a while and just looked at Wilson as he tried to make heads and tails of the whole situation.
"Have you ever wondered who you really are?" She started.
"Who I am?" Wilson wondered. "I'm Wilson Wilder. I'm your son."
A thought brushed past his mind. Wilson panicked.
"Am I not?"
"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about your family history. Why didn't you ever ask about your father?"
Wilson became silent. Why didn't he ask about his father? His mom had mentioned him a few times. Usually about how his father used to get in fights a lot and boast about his greatness and future aspirations. But he never particularly asked and she never particularly made a topic of it. Just some passing comments.
"Because Uncle Dale told me it would be insensitive of me to bring back the bad memories."
"Dale said so?"
"Yes."
Silvia tried to remember Dale's face as a kid. The image was as blurry as not seeing it at all. Dale was one of the people she never got to know. To think he was quite close with her son. Truth was that Dale and Wilson were not close. Wilson mentioned asking about his dad while playing with his friends. Dale was there and told him questions like that would open up closing wounds.
"Can I ask who my father is?" Wilson asked quietly.
"Your father was a great man." She started. "He killed lots of people, made lots of mistakes that he could have avoided if he had listened. But he did not and they cost him everything in the end. He later tried to fix them, but what has been done has been done. It can't be changed, so he made sure the mistakes won't continue to exist. He never knew you but I'm sure he thought of you even in his last moments."
"He's dead?"
"Very." She nodded.
"How?" Wilson questioned.
"He fought Ruthless."
Wilson was alarmed.
"Ruthless?"
"Yes." Silvia answered with a smile and a tear threatening to fall out.
"And he won. He got rid of all those gunning after your life back at Forest City. They were his mistake and that was his own way of fixing them."
It took Wilson a while to process it. Forest City was where he was framed for murder and rape. The rape was straight up outrageous because he never approached a female of any kind. Not yet.
He remembered how strong Ruthless was and that his swordsman who always stood behind him and obeyed his every command. He reminisced the time when he attacked the secret base of the Revolutionaries. Now that he thought about it, he should be grateful to him for attacking that accursed place and elders. Ruthless had, although involuntarily, saved his hide from certain death.
"His mistake?"
"Your father was Ruthless' right hand man."
"Right hand man for Ruthless." Wilson repeated. His eyes widened. His voice rose.
"The swordsman?"
"Yes!"
"He tried to kill me!"
"That's one of the mistakes I was talking about."
Wilson opened his mouth but was short of words. He stuttered for a while and finally stopped trying to find the right words.
"What's his name?"
"Larry Wilder. His surname was Wilder."
"You said he did not listen. Is that why you left him?"
"Yes."
"But you are called Mrs Wilder. So, were you married to him?"
"No, his brother."
"He offered to marry me to protect you from being called names. He said he would rather die than let his nephew suffer the way he did. And Larry, your father, was not in his right senses at that time. Recently, I learned he was under the influence."
"Drugs?"
"No, witchcraft. Some really powerful mind-altering kind."
"Oh!" Wilson immediately remembered old man Jenkins and his daughter.
"Wasn't that the same kind of thing the Revolutionaries did?' He thought to himself.
"So how are you here? How did you know Charlie? Did you know him before I did? Is he being nice to me because of you?"
"I don't think so. I hired Charlie to protect you from a distance."
Charlie was treating him well because he was paid to. Wilson did not know why but it made him feel friendless. His mother noticed the his mood change through his countenance.
"Do you think Charlie treats you like someone he's paid to protect?"
Wilson did not know, so he did not answer.
"Bodyguards would never allow a strand of hair of yours to be harmed. He usually waited until you were unable to go on before coming to save you. That's what brothers do. Charlie treats you less like someone he's paid to protect and more like someone he wishes to protect. Like a little brother."
Wilson looked into his mother's eyes. They looked sincere as if she herself believed what she just said. He nodded.
"Okay."
Wilson looked at Charlie lying on the floor and grinning like a fool.
"I have a question." He said.
"What is it?"His mom asked.
"I've been wondering. Why did you choose to live in the village away from all civilization?"
Silvia looked up at the cloud-covered sky and sighed. She clapped her hands. Small round floating balls came out of nowhere with popcorn. Lots of it and stopped in front of Wilson.
"Make yourself comfortable. It's going to take a while."