“Zach!” yells my father, beckoning me to come and meet another guest of his social gatherings. What in reality are exclusive parties for the rich organized by Mayor Barker. I absolutely despise them. Unfortunately, life as the Mayor’s son is more or less like this every single day. Parties, meetings, parties, luncheon – no, that’s not just for fancy ladies – and have I mentioned parties?

“Zachary Texas Barker!” yells dad…again.

I walk towards him, intentionally being slow about it. I’m not really a rebellious kid, but he just yelled my entire name to the entirety of this building. The building currently holding about fifteen hundred people.

“Hurry it up a little son.” he says.

I scowl. Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad, he’s just a constant nuisance. It’s a good thing I can leave at nine. So only thirty more minutes of pointless socializing.

I reach my dad and his guest and he immediately throws me under the bus. “I apologize for the behavior of my son, he’s a little messed up in the head.”

That’s always his excuse, that I’m “messed up” or that my nurse had dropped me. Thing is, I’ve never had a nurse, dad wasn’t mayor when I was born. We almost never had enough money for food and clothing, let alone a nurse.

Cassandra had a nurse, but she was born later. She’s dad’s favorite. And he makes no effort to hide it.

“Hey, dad, what did you need?” My dad looks at me in shock, probably because I’d spoken without being told to. “What was that, Zachary?” He asks even though he knows exactly what I said.

“I was just wondering why you called me.”

“Oh, that, of course. Zachary, meet Mr. Jonathan Whillow. He’s the new blacksmith.”

“A pleasure, Zachary.” said Jonathan’s gravelly voice. “Zach.” I replied.

“Zach, then. Did your father tell you that I will be around your house for a while?”

“No, and if you don’t mind me asking, why?”

“My home and workshop burned down yesterday. My apprentice left the fire burning all night and it was quite a drafty night. The fire spread so quickly. Burned down the whole thing. I was quite lucky to be away at the time.” Jonathan says, looking thoughtful.

“I’m sorry for your loss. ” I say, careful to avoid my father’s stern gaze.