User Profile

Robert (Bobby) Walker, apart from his small stature, appears to be just another ordinary tech-oriented kid. He plays on his Wii, surfs the Web, listens to his iPod, plays Dungeons & Dragons, and all the other sorts of things that "geeks" in high schools across the country do.

This normalcy conceals the effects of his childhood, of never knowing where "home," was. From infancy until the age of eight, he was bounced from one undesirable foster home to a worse one. He was one of the kids who falls through the cracks; they grow up and try to deal with their shattered lives by turning to drugs, or find a family in a gang, or wear the facade of normalcy while dying inside.

Bobby was one of the lucky ones; he was adopted, by Mark and Emily Walker. The first few years, of course, were rough; children who long to be loved and never get it tend to be wary when they do. Eventually, he came to accept that his new Mom and Dad weren't going to abandon him like everyone else had. His bond with the Walkers is strong, and their relationship is much closer than most teenagers have with their parents.

Bobby has been advanced about two years ahead of his age group in school, because of his mental aptitude and thirst for knowledge. As a result, his social skills have suffered; his classmates still regard him as a kid. His best friend is his near-neighbor, Sarah, for whom he's recently developed feelings of a romantic nature. He won't admit this to her for fear that she'll reject him; acceptance is still a powerful motivator in his life.

Bobby was baptized by a Glasswalker relative as an infant, before the tragedy that claimed his life. Whether or not his birth parents were aware of his heritage, his adoptive parents are not.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________


The glare of the flashlight flickered across the blackened shell of the convertible, highlighting the gruesome scene within. The man holding the flashlight wiped the rain from his face with the sleeve of his CSI jacket, a futile gesture that left him wetter than before. "Where's the baby?"

His companion turned to him, kneeling in the mud photographing the tire treads before they washed away. He always got the dirty jobs. "What baby?"

"What do they teach these kids nowdays?" the older man grumbled to himself. Then, to the other, he expounded, "There's a diaper bag and a bottle in the back. No carseat."

"That doesn't mean there's a kid, Grebbs. Kid could be at the babysitter's." He sure hoped there wasn't a kid. That would just make his job more complicated, and he wanted to get home. He hated the rain. His partner threw something at him, and he nearly dropped the camera in the mud catching it. "Fu-! What the hell is this?"

"It's a dirty diaper, Sculder. People don't carry dirty diapers around with them if they don't have to." The flashlight swung around to illuminate the surroundings. Aside from the burned-out hulk of the car, the muddy ditch, the road, he didn't see anything. That could be good... or bad.

"Hey Boss?"

"Boss" turned around to scrutinize his younger companion. "What is it?"

"I think something just threw up on me."

Slowly, Grebbs angled the flashlight up above Sculder's head. The narrow beam of light passed over the branches of a tree... and a baby carrier, stuck on a branch, bobbing in the breeze.

In his report, Grebbs called the kid the tree-bobber, and the name stuck.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________



"Bobby?" The tall woman knocked gently on the door. "Bobby, there's some people here to see you."

From the other side of the door came the shouted eloquence, "Fuck off!" The tall woman opened the door anyway.

"Bobby, Mark and Emily are here to see you. Don't you want to say hello??"

The eight year old boy who sat in the chair facing them looked two years younger. He was short and skinny, an oversize shirt emphasizing his narrow shoulders. Arms crossed defiantly over his chest, dark hair mussed, face in a perpetual scowl, he broke his angry pose only to push his glasses back up on his nose. "No."

"Many of the children here come from abusive homes," the tall lady explained to the couple behind her. "They're afraid to show affection because they've been taken advantage of so many times."

"I'm sitting right here, bitch."

The tall lady smiled, ignoring the insult. "Bobby, the Walkers are here to take you home." She sat down in a chair opposite Bobby, then cried out, standing quickly.

Something like a smile played over the boy's lips as the offending thumbtack was removed.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________


"So? You're adopted. Your parents didn't even want you."

The dark-haired boy glared up at the blond towering over him. Being two years younger than the other sixth-graders, his small frame put him at a disadvantage. Especially with Fransis. Fransis was a giant for a twelve-year-old. Some kids said he already had hair under his arms. Others said he was really 13, and had been held back.

"At least my parents can spell, Fransissy!"

Fransis was somewhat sensitive about his name. This sensitivity was frequently expressed by his fist. All over Bobby's face. Like now.

"Shut up about my parents, midget!" Fransis yelled down at the smaller boy on the ground. Bobby just grinned, which only infuriated the bully more. Fortune intervened in the form of the bell ringing.

Later, on Fransis' bike ride home, the front wheel inexplicably fell off in the middle of the street.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________


"Hey! Bobby! Wait up!" Sarah was only a freshman, but she was Bobby's age, and lived only four blocks away. Also, she was one of the few who deigned speak to him. Perhaps being friends with a junior was some sort of social boost. Being friends with Bobby Walker sure wasn't.

"Want a ride home?" Bobby grinned, from the seat of his bicycle. This was a running joke between the two, as he couldn't pedal the bicycle, with both of them on it, for more than a few blocks.

"Sure. Get off." She replaced him on the bicycle seat, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulders. "What are you staring at? You walking?"

Bobby blushed. Lately, the feelings he had for his neighbor weren't exactly the same as they had been. He'd noticed... More. Like the arc of her neck when she tossed her hair like that... He perched on the handlebars, his accustomed place. Sarah was stronger than he was, and it was something he'd come to accept.

"What's your project this year?"

"What?"

Sarah bopped him on the back of the head, the bicycle swerving dangerously. "Hey, watch it!"

"Dork. What's your science project for this year?"

"Oh. Um. I'm thinking antigravity."

"What? No robots?"

"Flying antigravity robots," he deadpanned.

"Sounds cool. Wait a minute. You haven't started yet?"

Bobby swallowed. "No..."

"You'd better hurry! The science fair is in one month!" He usually spent three times that long on his carefully designed displays. Recently, he'd been distracted by, among other things, uncensored Internet use. Not to mention Sarah.

"I have plenty of time," he reassured, trying to convince the both of them.

Friends (9):

Mutual Friends (9):

Also Friend of (3):