His parents just couldn’t cope. At twelve years old Lincoln Hamilton was a ‘difficult’ child. His family loved him dearly – his mother and father and his brother David – but it was too challenging for them to live their own lives whilst coping with Lincoln’s swerving mood changes and his constant disappearances into world’s they didn’t understand. Socially too it was painful and stressful for the boy. Born in the Bahamas to Henry Hamilton, an English doctor, and Constance La Fay, a born and bred black Bahamian nurse, Lincoln Hamilton was tormented by the cruelty of his classmates at school. His curly, natural blonde hair and fine features set him apart from his peers. Called ‘Nigger boy’ by the whites and ‘Whitey’ by the blacks, he was isolated from most other children.
Lincoln’s older brother David had only a trace of white genes. David’s hair was a little less curly and the full lips below his broad nose were only slightly less full than those of the other black Bahamian boys. David, five years older than Lincoln, looked after his younger brother whenever he could, often taking flak for siding with a ‘half-caste’. The older brother was a bright adventurous boy, exploring his teenage world, and sometimes he just couldn’t be bothered to look after Lincoln. He knew his brother was perfectly capable of looking after himself most of the time. Henry and Constance adored Lincoln, perhaps more so because his problems were no fault of his own. Eventually, with heavy hearts, they had to agree – after several visits from social workers sympathetic to their problems – if a guardian could be found who could monitor and control what was then perceived as the boy’s ‘disability’, he would benefit from an understanding they could not provide. It wasn’t as if he was going into ‘care’ – his new guardian was an eminent neuroscientist and an expert in psychic phenomena. Lincoln, his parents realised, was destined for a new life where hopefully he would be given opportunities they were unable to provide.
Lincoln understood exactly why he’d been found a new home and had to admit, feeling slightly guilty, that he was excited by the idea of a world of new, broadening horizons. Even at twelve years old Lincoln was quietly ambitious, knowing deep down that his ‘disability’ was actually a misunderstood capability – a gift. He just needed to find someone who recognised it. By leaving the small town of Freeport and moving to the city of Nassau, there was a greater chance of meeting that someone. He hadn’t met his guardian, Doctor Stephen Drayford and his wife Heather yet – but something told him fate had dealt him a favourable card.
In late November 2042, when the air-conditioned white Mercedes with smoked glass windows arrived one bright afternoon, stopping outside the Hamilton house, Lincoln knew his life was about to change radically. After a genuinely tearful and heartfelt goodbye to Henry, Constance and David, Lincoln sprawled across the back seat of the car on the white leather upholstery and grinned from ear to ear.