Chapter 7: The Story of Scholar James

But my mother-in-law was unfazed, holding her head high as she scanned the crowd. The set of her shoulders said she was ready for a fight.

"Every word I say is solid—I never lie."

"Rachel Smith has long been fooling around with someone, and that person is our town’s Scholar James."

At this time, Michael Parker was just a high school senior. His future wide open, his reputation still untouched.

Our town had only one real scholar: James Carter. His name always spoken with a mix of pride and pity.

Mention James Carter, and everyone would sigh, lamenting fate’s cruelty. He was the story folks told in hushed tones over potluck casseroles.

His circumstances were similar to Michael’s—both had only a widowed mother at home. But their paths split early, luck favoring one, disaster chasing the other.

But James Carter was a prodigy. Teachers said he was reading the newspaper before kindergarten, his mind always two steps ahead.

He started reading at three and could read chapter books at four. The local librarian still remembered the day he checked out War and Peace, barely able to see over the counter.

The county’s best school gave him a scholarship, and the principal personally mentored him. Everyone said Maple Hollow was about to produce a golden child.

Unfortunately, just as the golden child was about to take off, his dreams were shattered. The accident was all anyone could talk about that fall.

At thirteen, James Carter aced the SATs with a perfect score. That same year, his mother fell ill. He went into the woods to gather wild herbs and was bitten by a rattlesnake—right on the tendon of his foot.

The county hospital brought in the best surgeon from the city, but the damage was too severe. Hope flickered, then died, as the news spread through town.

The brilliant young genius became disabled. The image of him limping through the grocery aisles replaced the one of him clutching spelling bee trophies.

According to the state, people with disabilities couldn’t compete for certain scholarships. Another cruel rule, indifferent to talent.

James Carter’s path to college glory was cut off. Doors that had just opened slammed shut.

After his leg healed, townsfolk were surprised to see James working the fields, like any other unskilled laborer—plowing, weeding, tending crops. His hands grew callused, his future shrinking with every harvest.

Because of his limp, he worked slowly and poorly, even worse than the town kids. Some whispered he was cursed, others simply shook their heads.

James Carter was like a shooting star across Maple Hollow’s sky—brilliant and dazzling, yet so brief. His story was retold at every family reunion, a warning against hoping too much.

In the end, all that remained were a few sighs. A couple of old trophies gathering dust on a bookshelf, and a name folks invoked with a sad shake of the head.