True Heroes Read Online Free

Well, bigger than your usual nothing at least.”
                  ‘Nobody but Doctor Fink. I couldn’t ever have another family doctor. It just sucks I don’t get sick more often. Once a year, I get to come in and have tons of fun with him. I miss the early years when I’d come in here for weeks at a time and we’d have so much fun. He respects me. He sees me as a grown-up like Mommy. Every time he brings up space, time, politics, or anything that’s just outside the home life. He must talk to Mom about those things. Any test he runs on me barely breaks the string of words from either of our mouths. I wish everyone was like him. I wish I was like him.’ “Yeah, I’m a little early this year. Maybe I should start getting sick to talk to you more often.”
                  “The time between visits is excruciating,” he smiled and chuckled softly, ignoring his quip about getting sick. “Of course, this visit isn’t exactly our usual is it? You, in all honesty, shouldn’t be here right now, son.”
                  ‘What, exactly, does he mean by that? Did he really just state the obvious fact that I should be dead? No, he’s knows I can put two-and-two together well enough to reach that…gotta be deeper than that. He reacted happily but woodenly while having relaxed hands and eyes, the lady cop with her pure anger still flaring outside with animation, Mom being worried, almost desperate, about my health; his voice trailed off at the end too. Why do I notice these things? I’m not some detective. Stop thinking so much and just talk like you always do.’ The doctor nodded his head. ‘It’s like he understands without saying a word; the doctor has placed himself in my shoes.’ 
                  “Have you been reading more lately?”
                  “Only my comics.”
                  “Oh, a boy as smart as you should be on to bigger and better books than those.”
                  “Hey, I like them, and Mom keeps giving them to me.”
                  ‘He’s smiling again.’ “What about math? Have you advanced a little in that?”
                  “I’m into algebra now.”
                  “That’s great, son, absolutely great.” Caleb looked towards the windows with the sound of rising voices between the police officers and his mother. ‘Don’t you—’ “Have I ever talked to you about number theory?”
                  His small head pivoted quickly back. “No.”
                  “You’ll like this,” he said while pulling out a small piece of paper and clicking open a pen. “Let’s say you have a really big number,” he said while writing ‘1001’ on the small paper. “You can break this apart into one-thousand-and-one ones right? That would equal the same number if added together?” Caleb nodded. “If we do that, we could simplify any odd number to one; do you see how?” He peered on while Caleb shook his head slowly. The doctor drew three symbols for the number one and explained. “A quick way to see it is that we can cross out this one,” he said while crossing out the left '1,' and then the right as he continued, “and this one, and we’re left with this one in the middle. See?”
                  “Why only odd numbers?”
                  “Well, if we only had two one’s, and we crossed them out, there wouldn’t be anything left.”    
                  “Or they could fold over one another?”
                  “Not with even numbers. See, if they both fold over, there’s nothing left. You would have two wholes fighting for the chance to be right and be heard, but an odd number leaves the last one in the middle alone. Leaves it there to be seen.”
                  “And?”
                  “And that can be a wonderful thing to remember,