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The Storm That Turned the Tide
by Sean E.
Chapter 30 - Why We Care
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The Storm That Turned the Tide
Chapter 30 – Why We Care
Makalah McAllister
dropped off Benji, giving the youngster plenty of hugs and kisses, as well as
reminders to be on his best behavior. After speaking briefly with Petey's
mother, she backed out of the driveway and started for home when her cell phone
rang. "Hello Christine," she said cheerfully, recognizing the number
as belonging to one of her co-workers. She listened for a few seconds and then
frowned. "No, I haven't heard from James all afternoon. Why, is there something
going on?"
Within the seconds
that followed, she quickly slowed down and turned into a random driveway,
before backing out again in the opposite direction. Speeding off in the
direction she had come, the vehicle hurried forward under her guidance as she
continued to talk with her colleague. She did not turn in to Petey's driveway
however, choosing instead to accelerate past it and head for the highway not
far away. Without another word, she disconnected the line and took a deep
breath, trying to control the rapidly escalating panic that she began to feel.
For some reason,
the traffic through town was not as light as one would have expected, and it
took the McAllister matriarch almost ten minutes to reach the hospital. As she
rushed into the emergency parking lot and found her husband's truck, she slid
into place right beside it and parked, turning the engine off before taking a
deep breath. Exiting the vehicle and hobbling as quickly as she could move, she
made her way toward the emergency room doors. Once inside, she found her friend
waiting for her at the reception desk, along with both James and Noah, having a
quiet conversation. When the trio turned and saw her, they then straightened as
she approached. "Okay, what happened?" Makalah asked, more calmly
than she felt.
"I'm afraid
we don't know very much as of yet," James began. "Jesse seemed to
collapse at the store a little while ago. Noah found him unconscious and pale,
and when I couldn't bring him around, we brought him straight here."
"The doctors have
him back in the emergency room now," Noah added in a quiet voice.
Makalah studied
her husband's face briefly, detecting something she would later credit as being
a raw, emotional strain - something that they were both caught up in at the
moment, although in different ways. When she glanced down at Noah and saw his
bewilderment, along with a struggle to contain his own emotions, she paused.
She could tell he had shed a few tears, as the streaks left behind were subtly
present along his face. It was then the woman realized that both of them were
scared.
Makalah took a
deep breath and smiled at the teenager, before reaching out and placing a hand
upon his shoulder. "It's okay, kiddo. I'm sure Jesse will be
alright," she tried to reassure him, but then began removing her coat and
turning to Christine. "Take me back in there, please," she commanded,
to which her fellow nurse simply nodded. Makalah was a long-time member of the
staff for the emergency center, being one of the seasoned nurses the hospital
had on staff. All had come to know her well over the years, and none were going
to deny her access when the health of one of her family was at stake.
"Here, hang onto this, I'll be back as soon as I know something, I
promise," she stated, handing her coat to James. As he nodded, she began
moving up the corridor as quickly as she had arrived, before going through the
inner doors that lead deeper into the complex. Christine remained by her side
the entire time until they both disappeared.
James placed an
arm around Noah's shoulders, and both slowly walked back into the waiting area
before sitting once again. "Well, that's that, I guess. Makalah's in there
now though, she'll figure it out - or at least tell us what she finds
out," the man spoke softly, trying to reassure the teenager. "We just
have to patient for a little while, that's all."
Noah sat back and
sighed in the silence. Earlier, when he had entered the doorway and found James
as he did, he had started to panic - especially after seeing Jesse's father so
broken and uncertain. Within seconds, however, the man had looked up and
observed his audience, before the man collected himself and motioned the boy to
come closer. "It's okay," he had told him, clearly feeling out of
sorts. "I'm s-sorry, I just lost it for a minute, that's all."
"Is he...
Is... where...?" Noah whispered, but the man had waved at the double doors
leading into the emergency area.
"They took
him in straightaway, and told me I'd have to wait out here," the man had
explained, but then sighed. "So, right now, we simply have to wait it out.
I know, it's the hardest job of them all, but... we have to do it." His
voice was hollow and distant, and Noah could see the immense emotion behind his
eyes. The teenager, however, was conscious of how the waiting game was now
played, and he knew that there was little he could do or say to help the
situation. He sat had back then, the man's arm still draped around him
reassuringly, and nodded acceptance. Although for some people, such a gesture
would be considered awkward. Noah had found he didn't mind the man's arm there,
though. In fact, he had welcomed it, because in a way they both drew strength
from the other while sitting there. He had glanced up at one point, and saw
that James had closed his eyes, but he also observed the man closer and could
see the telltale lines of stress that had been introduced. He wished he could
do something, anything really - but for that, he was at a loss. After a moment,
he had turned back to stare at the double doors, as if willing them to open so
he could see his friend walking through them and into the room.
Still thinking
back, he recalled that it was some minutes before a woman finally appeared at
the reception desk. She had sat down and shuffled a few papers, all before
glancing up and noticing the two were sitting nearby. Rising from her chair,
she had moved around the front of the desk and approached. "Mr.
McAllister? James?" she asked politely, startling the man.
"Oh, yes!
Christine, isn't it?" he asked, bolting upright. "My son, Jesse...
he's here, and he's-"
"Yes, I know,
I just came from back there. No," she offered immediately, holding her
hand up to stave off the obvious questions about to rise. "I'm sorry, but
there is nothing new to tell you right now. They're still working with him, but
I can tell you he's breathing, and he has a heartbeat - so, from what I
observed, those are all good things." When she paused, she saw how
crestfallen the man had become. "Where's Makalah? I didn't see her back
there when I walked by," she whispered.
"I- uh,
well..." the man stammered, suddenly realizing he had, indeed, overlooked
something blatantly obvious. Fishing for his cell phone, he withdrew it from
his pocket, but was shaking so much it dropped to the floor. Christine had
picked it up for him and started to hand it over.
"Listen, why
don't you let me call her, okay? You know how she is... Besides, she'll be here
in a jiff," the woman offered kindly. James simply had nodded as he took the
phone and simply stared at it blankly for a moment. After the nurse walked
away, Noah lowered his voice.
"Um, are you
okay, sir?" the teen whispered.
"Yeah, I will
be," came the almost whispered reply. James had then looked over at him
and smiled grimly. "I know... I lost it there for a minute, didn't I?
But... yes, I am going to be alright." He then sighed. "What about
you? Are you alright?"
"I don't
know..." Noah replied honestly. "I'm... I'm worried, I guess."
"We all are,
but like I've always told you boys before, many times... we should not try to
jump to any conclusions too quickly. We need to know what happened, really,
before we decide to panic," James had reminded him soothingly, trying to
keep his voice calm. "Maybe that's where I failed earlier. Maybe I
panicked too quickly, when I knew better, right? Still, I'm not
infallible."
Noah recalled
looking up and wanting to say something, but he wisely kept his feelings in
check. James, however, seemed to sense that the teen was holding back and thus
sighed heavily before smiling wearily. "I know, Noah. That was not one of
my best moments really, and knowing you had to have thought the worst of it
when you saw me - well, I don't blame you for feeling frightened. I'm just as human
as anyone else is though, and honestly - I can still lose it sometimes.
Although, I should admit, I probably haven't done THAT in the better part of
twenty years or more."
Noah had smiled
then, feeling somewhat better. "Don't worry, sir. I... I didn't see
anything."
James chuckled.
"It doesn't matter, son. I wouldn't care if you did or not, or if you felt
you needed to tell someone, either. Unlike some people, it's not something that
troubles or bothers me. A lot of men, they try to hold things on the inside far
too much as it is. You know, those who feel they have to keep that
macho-manliness persona at the forefront, lest someone think they're weak. I've
never subscribed to that way of thinking though, and I think you and both my
sons know that. We all need a little help sometimes, you know, young or old,
male or female. Most of all, we all need to be human. To be otherwise is just
wrong."
Noah had
considered those words, and surprisingly felt that he understood. It was sort
of the same attitude Jesse had always seemed to have, since the first day they
had actually come together following the storm. Even his own father had alluded
to the same thing before, trying to teach him patience and humility, but to
never let anyone try and take away who he was. As he came out of his reverie,
he looked around the room again in the present and sighed. He didn't know how
long the two would have to wait, but there was no question that it was going to
be a while.
- - - - - -
They sat for
several minutes again, until the big double-doors opened and another nurse
appeared. As she walked into the room, she approached the desk and spoke
quietly with Christine. Somehow the both James and Noah heard her call off the
name 'McAllister', and once overheard, James was instantly on his feet followed
by the teenager. As they crossed the short distance, the woman pulled back
slightly and only looked up and smiled, however, before disappearing once
again. "It's alright," Christine informed them when they arrived.
"That was Nancy. She said Makalah asked her to inform us that they just
drew some blood, and got it sent off to be analyzed."
"How long
will it take?" James asked quietly.
"They'll do
it in two phases, getting the crucial panels back in about an hour or so. The
full metabolic screening though, will probably take about two to three
hours," Christine explained. "That's really all there is to tell
right now, though. Try not to worry, though... We'll update you when something
develops, I promise."
With nothing else
to do, the two returned to their seats and sat glumly. As James had already
said, there was no choice now other than to wait.
It was the one
task, however, that neither wanted to do...
«««««««««« _
»»»»»»»»»»
After thanking the
principal and leaving the school, Sheriff Hunt decided to stop by and drop Pete
off at his house. Although it was not exactly a late hour in the day, being
only mid-afternoon at that, the man felt that the teenager had had enough excitement
for the time being. Seeing the boy absorb the unexpected turn of events, and
then trying to process the multitude of emotions that descended upon him, Jim
thought was enough to make anyone slowly wade through the details. The entire
drive, short though it was, lasted only minutes, and in that time-span the
teenager had sat quietly, staring out the window. For the most part, Pete was
still recovering from what had transpired at the school, dumbfounded at why he
had never realized it before. Someone along the way had suggested a similar
line of thinking, he thought, as it seemed he had overheard a conversation
about the lockers before. But the words seemed murky, and he could not recall
the where or the how it had come about. The fact that now it had all come full
circle, however, was almost like a slap in the face.
Then there was the
point made by Harland Green himself, about what had prompted the man to look
into the deal even further than they had done initially. The kid he had built
so much hatred and animosity toward, one for whom he had schemed and worked
with everything he could think of to make life miserable - was the boy who had
actually gone to bat for him behind the scenes. Why? Pete could not fathom at
first, why Jesse would do it, yet alone come up with such an obscure conclusion
as he had. A conclusion that, ultimately, helped to clear Pete from what was
sure to have been a rugged outcome. As he sat there looking out the window,
Pete once again became emotional as he thought about Jesse. This was the kid
who had had the shit beaten out of him, and who knew Pete was involved - at
least, at the time. Why wouldn't he have just left things in place? It would
have been fitting, right? Pete would have been in trouble for certain, in so
many ways beyond just a simple school-yard brawl. The bully would have had what
was surely coming to him in the end, a punishment befitting of everything he
had done. All Jesse had to do was keep his mouth shut.
But… he didn't.
Why?
Then there was
Noah, too. He thought he understood what was happening early on with the
teenager, when he first started to hang out with their group. Noah seemed, at
the time, as another loner like Pete had started out with only years earlier.
In a lot of ways, Noah was exactly that: somebody looking for someone, anyone
really, that he could latch onto and avoid being alone for the remaining years
of his high school life. High school sucked, Pete thought, but it was at least
better than nothing at all. At least, when it came to needing a place he could
come to, and get away from everything else - especially his home, Pete didn't
even hesitate. Pete didn't mind it, not really, but mostly because he built the
tough-guy attitude, and people avoided bringing him down any. Only, in recent
months, since the beginning of the school year, really, he had crossed the line
a few times too many.
As Pete reflected
back, he realized he actually like Noah. As he had recently admitted, there
were a few times the older boy caught himself in the fast lane speeding too far
and too fast, and Noah was the one who had made him slow down, and remember
what being alone was like. To Pete, Freshmen were to be generally avoided in
schools, as they always seemed to be constantly adjusting to life between junior
high and high school altogether - with goofy, sometimes stupid results. Noah
hadn't acted that way, although he always felt the teen tried too hard to fit
in at times, laughing, championing his own jokes or such just to keep up with
the rest of him. Still, Pete had accepted him, as had Linda and a few others,
as the younger teen had enough of the bad-ass mentality that allowed their
relationship to work. That is, until the tornado hit the valley.
That had changed
everything.
As they turned into
the driveway and pulled up to the house, Pete was stirred from his reverie when
Jim finally broke the silence between them. "We did good today, Pete. Do
you see what I meant when I told you I wasn't so sure it was the end of the
world yet? Hmm?"
Pete turned to the
man and smiled weakly. "I- I still… I just…"
When he fell
silent, Jim actually chuckled. "I admit it: just like I told Harland, I
wasn't quite expecting to find out as much as we did, either. That, young man,
came as a complete surprise, overall." The man glanced out over the lawn
and the accompanying countryside before he spoke again. "Still, I think it
all went for the better, don't you?" When Pete did not answer, the man
placed his hand upon the teenager's shoulder once again and squeezed it in
support, before sighing. "Listen, I have to run out to the parkway for a
bit. As I heard, it seems there's been an accident out there that could use an
extra hand or two. You go on in, and tell Martha not to expect me for a couple
of hours at least, alright? I'll call her when I get free."
"Okay,
sure," Pete replied sheepishly, nodding as he opened the door. He thanked
the man for the ride before closing the door and stepping away. Watching the
Sheriff back around and pull away, the boy turned afterwards to observe the
house with a closer scrutiny. There was nothing extravagant or 'posh' about the
place, as he had heard others use the term. The fact that it sat on a rather
large sized lot wasn't all that strange either, as many homes in their small
town enjoyed spacious lawns from one residence to the next. The white-board
siding was accented in places with stonework, and deep red shutters accented
each side of the windows all the way around. The only thing that could possibly
stand out as being more opulent was the fact the driveway was topped with
asphalt, something you didn't find in many places in the rural country. The
teen realized it was a cute place, really, thinking about how it differed from
his own home further south of the town. The ground was frozen at the moment,
but he could just imagine how the greenery of the lawn in the warmer spring and
summer months must look.
Before long, Pete
began to realize that the place was not all that different from what he had
always dreamed of having for his own, somewhere in the years ahead. Living
alone as much as he had, the teen didn't feel necessarily encouraged that his
future was all that optimistic, but he had seen and been in the houses of some
of his friends. Their family dynamics always varied, he knew - some along the
same lines of his own relationship with first his father, and then the gang.
But there were also some, like this one now, that was built around trusting and
caring families. Those visits though, clearly set Pete aside as the outcast, a
"visitor" for lack of a better term, but that was okay. It's not that
he blamed them. His bad-ass reputation, along with his arrogant attitude at
times, left a lot of adjustment to be desired with the adults he encountered.
He had tried to be nice on most occasions, but it seemed most of his friends'
parents could see right through the façade.
Secretly though,
Pete had always desired a different life. When he stilled himself and absorbed
the moment in quietness, he always wished he had had a family - a real family -
like those he occasionally interacted with, or saw on television. He always
wished his Mom would come home, at least, but that wasn't going to happen.
Especially given what his uncaring, selfish father had done to her. If it were
true, he overheard one of the 'boys' talking one evening on his phone, about
how the woman had ended up in one of those mental institutions in upstate New
York, and was totally absent from knowing anything anymore. It was a hard night
for Pete to get through, and a hard week, as he didn't sleep hardly for days.
Eventually he came to accept it as fact, though. He wished it were otherwise,
but that wasn't in his future, he was sure of it.
Pete had always
hoped for a family that wasn't so dysfunctional as his was, having to live by
the seat of their pants from one hour to the next. The man that claimed the kid
for his own was a father was always looking over his shoulder, always scheming
from one adventure to the next, and really discarding anything and anyone else
who happened to be by his side - including his son. How the man had survived
for as long as he did, before going to prison, Pete had no idea, really. For
the most part, the man ignored the boy completely, leaving Pete to his own
devices and grow up the best way he could, all by himself. He once overheard
the old man joking with one of his 'partners', for lack of a better term,
saying he left Pete alone so as to toughen him up against the world and become
independent. If that were true, perhaps it wouldn't have hurt the teen as badly
as it did. Pete didn't believe it all, though, because there was too much
laughing, too much ignoring, too much crap otherwise.
Too much abuse.
Pete always
figured his future wasn't going to be a bright one. If he was in the midst of
following the footsteps of his old man, then he knew he'd be stuck in a
run-down shack, hiding at least half of his life alone, and avoiding the law.
It had all started with his grandfather, who then passed the business down the
line - especially once he discovered his father's lack of any real morality
when it came to deals that would earn quick money, left and right. Therein had
lain a legacy Pete had always secretly hated, because he had seen its ugly head
revealed all too often. It had cost him his mother, his childhood and a whole
lot more. It had caused him to be raped, in the most vile and nastiest of ways,
and deprived him of the love and compassion he really needed - though as a
teenage boy, he would be hard-pressed to ever admit it. In every sense of the
word, the teenager had been abandoned, relatively speaking, and had his soul
purged of anything that was decent in life. His own father had treated him so
low, as if a pimple on his ass, that Pete was left feeling like he had no worth
to anyone. That thought brought him back to the present, though. Oh, how he had
envied some of his friends over the years, but of course, most couldn't see
what he had lived through. Most had no clue how good their lives were in
comparison to his own. He couldn't tell them, either - lest he be abruptly
dragged away to lose what little grasp he had on reality as it was.
Looking around
again, Pete thought it was funny regarding the point Sheriff Hunt had made once
- telling him how young people just couldn't wait to grow up and leave. It
seemed that most young men and women thought they could search for a better
place, and a bustling lifestyle, outside of their little town. Pete had
actually thought little of that idea though, both preferring and appreciating
what their little place in the world already provided. He wanted some of the
fun, sure... but for the long term, all he really wanted was to find a job and
settle down some day. If that place was to be here in Kentucky, then so be it -
it didn't matter that much. Although he had nothing to really tie him down to
the area, he still liked it. It wasn't always so, but the teenager actually
came to appreciate the people he was interacting with now in ways he had never
done before.
Sighing, Pete
started for the door then, especially after observing that Martha was peering
out from the kitchen window, watching him with interest. It was then he
recalled the message Jim had asked him to pass on, so with a grunt, he chided
himself for having stood in the cold for so long. He walked over to the side
door and entered the house quietly.
"Hello, young
man! How was your day, today? Is everything alright?" Martha inquired,
after greeting the teenager with a warm smile.
"Oh, yeah,
everything's fine," Pete replied. "I'm sorry, I just... I had never
taken much time to look around outside before, at least not that way, and...
well..."
Martha laughed,
after pointing to the coat rack nearby. Pete listlessly hung his parka on one
of the spikes and then followed her into the kitchen. "By the way, Mr.
Hunt asked me to tell you he'd be a couple of hours still before he could come
in. Something about a wreck out on the parkway."
Martha nodded.
"I heard something about that over the police band, but I admit I didn't
pay much attention to it. It sometimes happens though, so no worries. Are you
hungry? I have to confess, I hadn't cooked anything yet because I was thinking
we might all go out for some pizza later, or at least something more
non-traditional. A body can only take so much in the way of comfort food before
it becomes weary, I think," she added with a merry expression.
Pete stopped and
turned to her with a smile. "Ma'am, I honestly don't think there is
anything that could make me tired of your cooking. Everything last week, and
then this weekend - well, it was fantastic!" The woman giggled, but
blushed deeply at the compliment all the same, before she slowly approached
him.
"Well, thank
you, but... really, there are some who do a lot better than I do, believe
me," Martha confessed modestly. "Still, I was only looking to do
something a little different tonight, that's all. If you're not starving, what
say we give the old bear a couple of hours then and see how it ends up. There's
some snack-cakes in the pantry over there if you need something to hold you
over, and of course a few sodas in the refrigerator." The woman glanced at
the clock. "If he doesn't call in a little while, I'll ring him instead
and we'll figure out whether we want to wait for him, or just go on out by
ourselves. How does that sound? I mean, you and I could take a spin into town
and go over to that buffet place. Does that sound like a plan?"
"Sure,"
Pete nodded, smiling. "Anything will be fine with me, honest. I appreciate
it, ma'am."
Martha hesitated,
observing the boy further and noting that something was still somewhat off.
"Are you sure all is well? Nothing amiss, right?"
Pete shrugged.
"I'm okay, I guess. Just... I was kind of just processing some things, that's
all." When he saw her curiosity, he pulled out a chair at the table,
causing her to do the same in like manner. Both then sat, and Pete began
telling her about the morning with the lawyer, and then the afternoon's visit
at the school. Before long, he found himself giving out more details then,
about all the things that had been running through his head over the last few
days, and how he was still trying to believe it wasn't all a dream.
It was at that
point the woman smiled and reached out, pinching Pete on the arm. At first, he
just watched her, but when she did it a second time with considerably more
force, he pulled back. "Ow!" the teen exclaimed, before laughing.
"What was that for?"
"To make sure
you realized you're not dreaming," Martha replied matter-of-factly. As the
teen laughed again, he rubbed the spot tenderly, still uncertain that he
understood. The woman, on the other hand, sat forward in her chair and leaned
in closer to him. "Listen Pete, there are always a few things in life that
happen, things that no one can explain, just out of the clear blue. Sometimes
things do happen for a reason, when we least expect it. Not that it's always
for the best, mind you. Certainly, as we grow older, life does get a little
more difficult along the way. I mean, we gain new responsibilities, and we gain
new loves, fellowships, roles and a whole host of other things. But sometimes
honey, sometimes… you have to realize that there is a goodness that comes from
them. I think in a way, you're finding that out now, and maybe for the first
time in a very long, long while."
Pete frowned,
turning his gaze to look out the window. "You guys keep saying that and
all, but... I don't think… I mean, you don't understand. I've never had
anything 'good' like this to happen to me before, you know? Just a little over
a week ago ma'am, I figured my life was about done for and over with for good.
Remember? I- I even considered just giving up and checking out completely. I
mean, what was the use in living anymore, with the way things had been going
for me so far. But... as much of a badass as I was, especially giving so much
shit to that kid at school, and... and doing other things... I just, I can't…
It's like in the end, I turned out to be nothing more than being a coward. I
couldn't even, I mean, go through with calling it quits. I just, I chickened
out." He suddenly blushed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to cuss."
Martha observed
him carefully before smiling. "Well, being a 'badass' as you call it,
really has nothing to do with it, I think. Everybody has their rough patches
they go through son, right along with their weakest moments. There is no shame
in admitting or acknowledging that. Just so you know though, I don't think it's
being a coward at all, to 'chicken out' of calling it quits, as you say -
especially if you mean what I think you're saying. I mean, Good Lord!"
Seeing his eyes shift away brought the woman even closer, reaching out to touch
the teen on his arm. "Listen, I'm being serious honey. As far as what I
think, you were probably just having some of those moments and all, like a lot
of people do sometimes. It makes you feel like living is hopeless, I know, and
things around you just get mighty dim. Believe it or not though, it just helps
us to realize, too, how fragile we can be sometimes, and realize how much more
human we really are. I've already told Jim, I can't begin to imagine how you
survived out there, all on your own, for over a month like you did in the open
woods, especially knowing how cold it's been getting. To top that, I can't even
imagine how you've survived all these years practically on your own at home,
too, all by yourself. Someone, I think, had to be watching over you - like a
guardian angel of some sort."
Pete grunted,
slowly shaking his head. "I don't believe in guardian angels, ma'am. I'm
sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful at all, I just..."
Martha smiled but
then placed her hand firmer upon his arm. "You do not have to explain it
to me, dear. I'm perfectly aware that a good portion of this world happens to
think differently than what some of the rest of us do. Even our own portion of
the world doesn't always agree on the same basics, either. But listen to me, and
listen really carefully, alright? I want you to consider something..."
When Pete turned and gave her his attention, she smiled at him again. "I
believe with regard to Guardian Angels, that they do exist, and that they come
in all shapes and sizes. Not necessarily the heavenly, silver-winged images you
might think of, either. To me, they're in life all around us, helping us or
guiding our path along sometimes. They could be a pet, for example, or a
friend… maybe even a child, for all we know. They're in people and places that
are both seen and unseen, nearby or not."
"People?" Pete asked, frowning.
"Oh, yes -
friends, acquaintances and more. You see, they may exist to simply point you on
your way somewhere, to guide you in your thoughts and ideas, or perhaps they
just keep the worst from happening to you - whether you realize it or not.
They're can be strangers, in a sense, but they're as real as you and I are,
sitting right here. Regardless, they're always there to give you that nudge, to
be that friend you can lean on in some way. The pet giving you unconditional
love and acceptance; the friend, stranger or not, that gives you reassurance
when you need it. Even that someone to give you a shoulder to cry on, just to
let you know you're not alone." The woman sat back and waved her arms
wide. "Believe in that much dear, at least, whether you're a religious
person or not. I like to think of them as guardian angels - because they're
always around you - in both the best and worst of times. They are here, there,
everywhere, and they always, always watch out for you in one way or another,
the best way they can."
Pete stared at her
for a long while before he sighed. The teen struggled to keep his emotions from
getting the better of him as he looked into her eyes. What he saw in the lady,
and the last few days with both her and their family, was enough to make him
want to change in what he believed. "T-Then, you and Mr. Hunt must be
mine, because... because that's all you've been doing since I've got here. You've
been helping me, making me feel - I don't know, better - not alone. You
know?" Then, without preamble, he reached out and hugged her in his arms,
all the while trying to hold back the tears that he was losing control over.
"If they are real, well… then…" He left the rest unsaid.
It was true, Pete
thought. From the very first day he had turned himself in and stepped into the
Sheriff's office, he had experienced nothing but kindness from the man, and
then his wife and their family. Even in just the few short days he had spent
with them both, one-on-one and away from the stress of everyday living in
general, they had set about teaching him things he had never before considered.
Even his new friendship with their grandson had taught him things he usually
would have laughed at, or easily discarded, if it were not for the fact he
could feel, on the inside, something that told him otherwise. Pete was coming
about a whole 180-degrees turn from what he was all about before. Perhaps, he
thought, sometimes you do have to turn a corner, in order to find a better side
of life.
When the teen had
surrendered that day only now a week before, he had given up in simple
desperation. Although he looked back at it now with a wary eye, at least then
he felt he lost all hope of anything ever getting better for him. These two and
a few others, however, had taught him that hope was something still alive, and
that all he needed to do now was to be humble enough to see, embrace - and
accept it. It was hard for him to do, really, but he was slowly learning. Pete
Haskell III was grateful, and it showed in this moment. Martha returned his
embrace firmly, holding him as she would hold any child, as complete and
unbidden as she could so that he would feel no barriers. In her mind, at least
since the departure of his mother, she suspected the boy hadn't had any kind of
unconditional support like this in a long, long time. She held him with a
tenderness, but without letting go, and Pete finally began to remember what it
was like once before, when his mother would embrace and hold him that way so
many years before.
More than that, it
caused him to remember the peace it had given him on the inside, because now,
in that moment, he began feeling it once again.
«««««««««« _
»»»»»»»»»»
When the
double-doors leading into the emergency ward opened once again, Makalah hobbled
through with a steady, but somewhat tired gait. James looked up and noted his
wife seemed to be doing better, almost back to her normal self in most
respects, but the slower movement favoring one leg over the other was still
there. She no longer seemed to require the use of a cane or crutch, but a
full-recovery still evaded her for the time being.
When Makalah saw
her husband, she smiled weakly and pointed off toward the corner of the room,
specifically at a door that opened into a small, consultation-like office. He
understood immediately, as he had been in the room before. Generally reserved
for serious cases at least, it allowed doctors and families to come together
with a semblance of privacy, and discuss information about a loved one who had
been brought in. It could send the signal that the matter was a serious issue,
but it could also just as well represent the opposite - a fact that somewhat
mollified the man as he rose from his seat and began walking the short distance
to join with his wife. Once reaching the aisle, however, he stopped and glanced
around him, before turning his gaze back to the seats. Noah had saw Makalah's
arrival, too, and had quietly sat up a little straighter too with a keen
interest. He had hung back though, with a sense of uncertainty as he watched
them both come together. Noah knew he was not family, not in the strict sense
that most people would define it, so his hesitation had been with respect to
that right for Jesse's real family, his parents. At least, it did until James
smiled and suddenly waved at him, indicating for him to join them. With a
feeling of elation and relief, the teen bolted from the chair and moved
quickly, and as he reached the man's side, James put an inviting arm around the
boy's shoulders. After a quick glance with Makalah, his grasp tightened in
reassurance, before all three stepped through the open doorway and into the
smaller office.
There were two chairs
in on their side of the makeshift desk there, of which Makalah sat in one
without any objection. She had been on her feet consistently over the last
couple of hours, arguing with both doctors and staff to let her remain
proximity of her son. Normally, hospital staff would not have allowed a parent
that privilege, but they had made an exception for her given her experience in
working with emergency cases. It was that experience, however, that had paid
off in the end. As she sat down, it was with a weary heaviness that wasn't
missed by either of the other two.
James was going to
steer the teenager into the other chair, but Noah stopped and quickly shook his
head. "I'd rather stand, honest," he whispered. The older man grunted
and then sat down by his wife, grasping her hand and affectionately squeezing
it in support. Meanwhile, Noah took up a position behind them and leaned
against the wall, out of the way. It wasn't but a moment later when a
second-door opened behind the desk, and a man Noah immediately recognized from
his prior visits as being Jesse's doctor, entered the room and shook hands with
the elder McAllisters right away, and then nodding warmly to the teenager.
Sitting down, the
doctor paused long enough to open a folder and set it in front of him on the
desktop before looking up. "Okay, there's good news and so-so news, I
think. The first, which your wife has told you I'm sure, is that Jesse is
awake, and is growing stronger again with each passing hour. His cognitive
functions seem to be working normally as well, although he's a little fuzzy
about what actually happened. That is not surprising, as it is not abnormal for
people to experience that, especially in cases like this. The immediate blood
panel came back showing that everything was mostly normal, too, other than
there being a high-level concentration of white blood cells in the
system," the man stated, glancing at the folder briefly. "That's
unusual, I believe, but not off-the-scale or anything, and certainly not alarming
given the magnitude of his recent incident here. We did put him on oxygen for
about a half-hour, and gave him an intravenous solution combined with a general
antibiotic. So far, all of his stats have improved considerably, so we took him
off of the oxygen just a little while ago, and he is breathing just fine."
The doctor looked
up again at that point with an expression of perplexity. "Now, as to what
happened today, I think there are a combination of things that contributed to
his blackout. Note, as I said, he doesn't recall the fall or anything about it
immediately afterwards, nor can he really recall anything leading up to it -
other than he said he remembers feeling overly exhausted again this afternoon.
We talked for a bit, however, about the last week or so and how he had been
doing, and other than the exhaustion, I didn't initially see anything. Clearly,
it's been two weeks since his incident at the high school, and when we released
him to go home, everything seemed to be climbing up in the right direction -
certainly toward a full recovery, I think."
"But... you
agree, that something isn't right," James muttered. Makalah smiled
squeezed his hand gently. She remained silent, however, as the doctor nodded in
response.
"Oh yes,
something is off... and I must admit, I may be partially to blame here. You
see, while he was here the first round, we worked his stats and gave him
medications to help with the various swelling and bruises he had, as well as
monitored for any side effects from the concussion he experienced. As it was,
he never gave me reason to believe we needed to do another blood culture, you
see? I mean, in our eyes, outside of what had happened to him, we didn't
necessarily think so much of other problems that might be present. At least I
didn't, because he was improving, right? But that's the trick here, I think,
because when I pulled his initial results from two weeks ago, and compared
those to the full workup we just did a little while ago, there are some very
definite differences. For one thing, in the last two weeks, his sodium count
has fallen to extremely low levels, as well as his iron - which, for all
purposes now, is practically non-existent."
James frowned
before turning to his wife. "Is that... bad?"
Makalah picked up
the conversation at that point. "Well, without iron, his body will have a
problem generating hemoglobin, which in turns means it can't produce the red
blood cells needed to pass oxygen throughout the rest of his body."
"That is
correct. It is what we commonly refer to in anemic-like conditions. Not that I
believe Jesse is anemic - because if he was, it would have been detected long
before now, I think. Still, the body starts feeling weak and sluggish, and as
Makalah stated, if when cellular count is reduced, the body will try to offset
it using other more natural-based mechanisms," the doctor added.
"Which
means... you'll see more white-blood cell counts than you will red," James
theorized, finally understanding.
"That's
right, you have the general idea, yes. Mind you, it is not enough to create
fatigue all by itself, but one of the symptoms of having low iron levels is
exhaustion, and when you combine that with a low sodium presence internally,
along with a few other elements, then... that, I believe, can create a wide
range of awkward episodes - such as the one he experienced this
afternoon." The doctor sat forward, placing his elbows upon the desk and
becoming thoughtful. "Tell me, how has his food intake been since he went
home after leaving here?"
"Well, it
started normally, I think," Makalah answered, reflecting back. "I
mean, it wasn't as much as it usually was, but... it wasn't horribly different,
either."
"The last
couple of days haven't been the best though," Noah offered quietly, when
both parents seemed to fall into a period of silence. "I mean, he didn't
eat a lot of his breakfast or lunch yesterday, and though we went out for
Mexican last night, he only ate mostly chips and salsa. Maybe half of his
burrito, too, but he really didn't touch the other stuff, like the beans or
rice."
Makalah glanced up
at the teen and smiled before turning back. "Noah's probably right. He
would know better, I think. They are like two peas in a pod, and he isn't
usually wrong. I did notice that after our Christmas dinner, Jesse had tapered
off quite a bit. I just figured he had a little upset stomach, or needed time
to digest everything. It was a different kind of meal than your everyday sort,
and certainly different than what he had had building up to that point."
"You know,
thinking back I'm tempted to agree," James interjected. "I remember
him putting quite a few things on his plate, but he only ate about half of it
all that day, at least initially. I think, well, I was like Makalah did here,
believing that he was still just adjusting and all, Doc."
"It's quite
possible that he still was, I have no doubt," the doctor replied.
"Regardless, I've ordered some sodium supplements to be added to his IV,
and honestly, I think he just needs to stay here overnight for observation
again." He held up his hand, however, seeing James shoulders sag
significantly. "I know how you feel, this being another night - but
consider, I really don't think this will be anything like it was before, Mr.
McAllister. I just want to keep the IV and supplements going and watch his
levels overnight, that's all. Most likely he'll go home sometime in the
morning, unless something drastic were to happen. Also, by keeping him
overnight, we can get another blood workup done and do a quick comparison,
see?"
"If… if
that's what you think is best, then sure, Doc," James replied, relenting.
"I do believe
it is for the best in this case. Just so you know, I also want to start putting
him on some iron supplements, too. We'll do the dosage kind of heavy up front,
then taper off and monitor it over the next few weeks and months, if need be.
Seriously, it could be he just needs to adjust his diet, or if necessary, we
can add the supplements to a regular daily routine for longer term, and all
will be well again."
"Do you...
could it really be that simple?" James asked, an eyebrow stretched high as
if in surprise.
The doctor
chuckled. "I know, for as alarming of an event as this was, it seems like
it would be an insignificant treatment, right? But, yes... I'm not trying to
oversimplify it, believe me. If we go by what I have in front of me though, and
knowing our history as we do for Jesse right now... then yes, this could all
end up having a very modest solution. A little patience is all we need to work
it out."
"That might
be kind of hard, but… I assure you, we can do that," James admitted,
eventually sighing with relief. When he glanced at his wife, he knew then she
had already been expecting this. "Did you get Benji to Petey's before all
of this happened?"
"Yes, he'll
be fine over there until tomorrow afternoon," she replied back, before
turning to the doctor. "Did you, by chance, check out his other condition,
too?"
The man smiled and
nodded. "I checked everything out, Makalah, and yes - the swelling in his
testicles has subsided substantially. The color is also returning as well,
which is a very good thing for someone under the circumstances he has been
through. The other bruises are coming along nicely, too - some of which you can
hardly even tell were there to begin with. It is all just as I suspected it
would turn out, really. I take it he still has some discomfort getting up and
down, right?" All three of them, James, Makalah and Noah alike, nodded
simultaneously, causing the man to sit back and chuckle. "I'm afraid that
will probably still hang around for a couple of weeks, perhaps more before it
subsides completely. To coin a phrase, however - 'this too, shall pass'. Just
don't force him to sit or do anything hastily at first. His internals - the
muscles, tendons and the like - need to heal at their own rate. The more he
uses them, of course, the more they'll return to their old state, but pushing
too hard, too quickly could also put them at a disadvantage. Tell you what,
I'll prescribe a very mild muscle relaxant before he leaves, but only let him
take them at night before bed, or if you feel it's necessary, alright? As long
as he can sleep reasonably well, then the rest will work itself out."
When it was
obvious the session was drawing to a close, James stood and shook the doctor's
hand once again. "I don't know how to thank you, again. I admit - bringing
him in here, it was kind of a scary thing for me. Not just for me, either - I
think Noah was about as concerned as I was," he added, returning his arm
around the teenager's shoulders.
The doctor stood
as well, while Makalah climbed to her feet again, albeit a little more slowly
than her husband. "I don't doubt it, really. He'll be fine though, but I
think we can expect over the next few weeks that we'll have to keep an eye on
him. If all this amounts to is a lack of nutrients and supplements, we can
correct that oversight almost immediately. At the worst-case scenario, we'll
give him some blood here to start working on flushing his body with a more
normal iron-base composition. Either way, there is nothing in these test
results, or in the scans we took, to indicate anything worse." The man
lowered his voice as he turned and took Makalah's outstretched hand to shake
it. "Just watch him, once he gets home. Let him dictate what he feels like
doing or not. All is not that bad, I assure you. And be sure to watch after
yourself, too. I'm happy to see you up and moving about this well, as we've
been missing you terribly from the staff. We do want you to get better soon
though, before you get back. Alright?"
Makalah nodded.
"I'll come back at any time if it's a necessity, you know that. Just have
someone give me a call. If nothing else, I can sit at the desk and keep things
coordinated, freeing up someone else. That might be something to keep in the
back of your head too, especially around New Year's Eve and the day after here.
That might let one or two people have the holiday off, you know."
"I... well,
we'll look at the schedule," the man nodded in agreement. "As long as
you're sure."
"I am,
honestly. Otherwise, I was only hoping I could keep my leave through the
weekend, at least until the boys make it back into school next week. I have to
admit, as much of a pain in my rear this has been, the upside has been getting
to be home and spend some time with them," Makalah explained with a tired
smile.
The doctor smile
and nodded. "It's been relatively quiet this week, and as long as that
holds, I don't see why we can't work around it. Plus, the more time you get,
the quicker that heel will get better. Dr. Reddy is supposed to be back up here
on Tuesday, I think. You should arrange to have him check it out first, before
you're totally cleared."
"Okay, I'll
do that. If all is well, then I can start back that day, or whenever the
schedule opens up for my next rotation," the woman replied, then began
following her husband to the door. They both turned and thanked the man one
last time, before exiting back into the emergency room. All three made way
their over to the closest seats to sit down again, before Makalah turned to
Noah. "Thank you for that, helping and all."
Before Noah could
contemplate about what the woman was referring to, James added, "I know
you were hesitant about joining us, but... there was no reason for you not to.
You're a part of us as much as anyone else is, I think."
"I...
uh..." Noah started to reply, but then accepted their thanks. "I'm
just glad you let me come in," he added softly.
"I
agree," Makalah commented, before placing a hand on his knee. "So, we
need to figure out what we're going to do then, don't we?" she asked, more
pointedly in her husband's direction. "Do you want me to stay
tonight?"
James crossed his
arms and became thoughtful. "If all they're going to do is monitor him for
the duration, I don't think it's really necessary, is it? Plus, no matter what
he said in there about Jesse, you really do need to get up off of that foot
again for a while. Why don't you stay for a little while, so Noah and I can go
back up to the store and finish some things off." He glanced at his watch.
"If we leave soon, we can get there in time to do the closing, lock up and
all, too. Then we'll..." He paused and chuckled. "I don't know, get
something for us all to eat again, I guess. We'll come back and visit for a
little while, and then I'll take you home."
A merry expression
crossed Makalah's face. "And what about our temporarily adopted son, here?
Or should we refer to him as something else?" She turned her attention to
the teenager. "I suppose you probably want to stay with him here tonight
again, don't you?" Noah tried to keep his face expressionless, but the
thin smile that surfaced betrayed him, enough so that Makalah ended up laughing
altogether. "Why should I ask such silly questions, I wonder."
Noah blushed as
James returned his arm around the teenager's shoulders. "You'll have to get
your parents' permission, of course."
Noah suddenly
looked up at the man, realizing he had forgotten about them. Glancing at his
watch, he sat up straight. "They might even be home by now!"
James laughed.
"Well, come on, you can call them on the way back to the store," he
remarked, climbing to his feet again. "As for you, honey, we'll give you a
call when we're on the way back over here," he directed to his wife as the
other two stood as well.
«««««««««« _
»»»»»»»»»»
Jim Hunt pulled
into the driveway just as Martha and Pete were leaving out the back door of the
house, readying themselves to go out for pizza. After parking, the man grunted
as he exited his vehicle and then met the two mid-way between the house and garage.
"Didn't take long enough to miss out, I guess," he quipped, which
drew a smack on his arm from Martha.
"Don't you
start that, now! You're the one who likes their baked pasta down there,
anyway!" his wife quipped. "Do you want to go on in and change first,
or would you prefer to just hop on in the car?"
Jim glanced at
himself and then the house. "You know, I think I'd rather go out on
occasion without the uniform. At least, while I still can. It makes me feel a
little more human somehow, instead of just an old geezer with a target on his
back, you know?" He grinned, before nodding. "I tell you what, you
two go ahead, back the car out and warm the old bird up. I won't need but a
minute or two, I think. I'll just shed the shirt and change coats, then be
right back out."
"Well, make
sure you find a decent shirt to replace the one you're shedding," Martha
teased him, smiling at her own joke as the man grunted again and headed off
inside. Approximately five minutes later, the trio were turning around in the
driveway and heading toward the road. "How bad was the accident?"
Martha asked after they were well underway.
"Not too
horrible, thank goodness. Some lady from Russel County was going down the wrong
ramp onto the parkway, of all things. She looked to be snookered pretty bad,
according to Phil."
"Oh, my
heavens!" Martha exclaimed. "How 'wrong' was the ramp, given this
time of day?"
Jim grunted again
from the passenger seat as he sat back and relaxed for a change. "She was
trying to head south on an off-ramp, so she got clipped by one of those big
utility vehicles, the kind with the buckets and all. Ending up flipping her car
totally over. The funny part is, she climbed out afterwards and started to
curse out the poor man driving the truck! Made a heck of a scene too, from what
I'm told! I can't wait to see what the newspaper write-up will be about this
one!" He glanced at her directly. "Did Mr. Pete back here tell you
about his visit today up at the high school?"
"He sure
did," Martha replied, exchanging a smile with her husband as they entered
town. "Talk about good luck, I would say he got an extra helping of it,
wouldn't you?"
"Oh yes,
without a doubt," Jim replied, before glancing into the rear where Pete
was presently seated, listening in. "Are you over the shock of it,
yet?"
Sheepishly, the
teen nodded. "I guess so," he replied quietly. Jim Hunt observed the
young man briefly, but then nodded before turning back.
As Martha
continued driving them along, the man glanced out and observed the passing
scenery before eventually commenting on it. "You know, I sometimes forget
all that one misses when you're driving all the time," the man remarked.
"I mean, when you're driving, you can look about and all, but you really
have to have at least half-your brain focused on the road, if not more. It's so
easy to skip or miss things. Like, take this house up on the right here, and
all the Christmas lights they have hanging outside. I've always noted they were
there, but it's only now I see what I've been missing, I think. They've got
quite the display this year, wouldn't you say Martha?"
Martha scoffed.
"You old grump! Of course, yes - they do! Harold and the kids go all out
almost every year, and every year you say the same thing about it!" She
laughed before relenting. Glancing at Pete in the rear-view mirror, she
explained. "He's right, though. He's so used to doing all the driving, it
is very easy to skip over things. I know that from experience. Harold Moore
back there, they go out of their way almost every year for the kids and
grandkids. I've heard some of them call it the 'Moore-th Pole', and for good
reason." The woman then sighed sadly. "I can't imagine them keeping
it up much longer though, as Harold and Sylvia are getting up in years
themselves." Pete nodded his understanding, as the trio continued a short
distance further before turning off into the parking lot of a familiar, but
popular pizza diner.
When they climbed
out and headed inside, they stopped at the door to see that the place was much
more crowded than they had expected. "I guess we're not the only ones with
Italian palates being satisfied tonight, hmm?" Jim Hunt remarked.
"Where are we
going to sit?" Martha asked, scanning the crowd. "Or should we just
get something to go?"
Jim was about to
reply when he suddenly spotted two familiar people just sitting down at a
table. Smiling, he took a few steps forward. "James McAllister!" he
declared. "How's it going? World treating you good tonight?" Before
the man could respond, however, Jim recognized the teenager as not being whom
he had first suspected. "Hello to you too! Noah, isn't it? Where's your
partner in crime at tonight? Loading up on pizza somewhere?" The man had
quickly scanned the line but did not see the other boy.
By that time, both
Martha and Pete had joined the Sheriff and greeted the other two kindly.
"Jim! Give them a chance to speak, for heaven's sake!" she admonished
her husband, but all four of the others smiled.
"Um, Jesse
isn't with us right now, I'm afraid. It's just Noah and myself at the moment.
Would..." James hesitated, looking around and assessing how full the
dining room was. "Would you like to join us? We probably won't be here all
that long anyway."
After a quick, reassuring
glance with his wife, Jim and his companions pulled out chairs and joined the
other two as invited. Once seated, the Sheriff regarded the man curiously and
saw what looked to be anything but an expression of ease. "Okay, what's
wrong? Has something else happened?"
James smiled
grimly, but then relaxed. "You could say that, yeah." He then
launched into a short recap of the afternoon's adventure. As Martha and Jim
listened, their own expressions changed to ones of growing concern. It was
Pete, however, who seemed to be the most surprised of all, as he leaned forward
listening and hanging onto every word.
"But...
Jesse, he's going to be okay... right?" the bigger boy asked when there
was an apparent pause near the end. James glanced at him and nodded.
"The doctor
said he'll be fine, but the hospital is keeping him overnight for observation.
If all goes well, then they'll release him to come home in the morning."
Martha sat back,
looking relieved. "Thank the Good Lord!" she muttered and then shook
her head. "That young man sure has had a bit of a rough go of it lately,
hasn't he?"
Although she had
made the remark casually, addressing her feeling of thankfulness regarding the
outcome, Pete could not help but think about something even deeper. The
teenager's thoughts initially turned toward how it had all started that night
in the gym. He frowned, however, when he realized that truthfully it had
started long before then. Feelings of guilt overcame him then as he sat there
in reflection, and as time progressed his shoulders drooped even further. He
paid little attention to the rest of the conversation, and once they had
ordered their drinks, he rose to his feet, excusing himself to go to the
bathroom.
It wasn't until
Noah returned to the table with a plate filled with several slices of pizza,
that he noticed the older teen had yet to return. A quick scan of the line of
people at the buffet table also verified Pete's absence, so setting his plate
down, Noah excused himself. Casually making his way toward the back of the
restaurant, he found the door to the men's bathroom and entered. Although there
was a person washing their hands at the sink, no one stood at the nearby
urinals. Nonchalantly checking the three stalls, however, the teen noted that
one of them was occupied. Taking his time, he stepped closer after the other
individual finished and left, leaving the two alone for the moment. "Hey,
Pete, is that you in there?" he asked quietly, not wishing to intrude in
case it was not whom he expected.
A huge sigh came
from the other side of the door. "Yeah, it's me ..." the teenager
replied. After a brief delay, the door unlatched and swung inward, before the
other boy appeared. "Sorry, I was..." When he didn't finish, however,
Noah leaned back against the wall and observed him closely.
"You were
thinking, I guess, since it didn't look like you were doing the only other
obvious thing someone would do in a bathroom stall," Noah filled in for
him with a half-smile. Pete searched the younger boy's expression closely
before grunting. Moving on to the sink, he began to wash his hands, ignoring
the younger teen. When the silence continued, Noah decidedly took the
initiative. "So, what gives with you? Anything you want to talk about?"
The bigger boy
paused as he dried his hands, before shrugging. "It's nothing, really. I…
I guess I'm just glad Jesse is going to be alright." He had turned and was
getting ready to leave, but Noah suddenly stepped up and blocked his way.
"He is, I
promise," Noah announced. "I'll confess - it scared us a little, but
it all turned out okay." His eyes narrowed as a thought struck him.
"You do realize that, right? I mean, this didn't have anything to do with
you this time. It turns out that he had some other things going on, and, well,
what happened today... it just happened, that's all."
Pete stared
silently for some time before his shoulders sagged once again. "I
understand, but Noah... you can't honestly believe that. I mean, all of this
started with me after Halloween, remember? If I hadn't been such a dick-head
about everything with you two, then-"
"This had
nothing to do with you being an asshole," Noah intoned, but not unkindly.
"This had to do with Jesse developing some kind of a low iron condition or
something, alright?" He observed the other boy curiously, before sighing.
"Seriously... I get it, you know? You might like to hide it sometimes, but
I can see it otherwise. You care, and although it surprises the hell out of me
sometimes, even I have to admit that I understand how you feel. For that matter
yeah, you're right - you were a royal-class jerk wad there for a while. But...
don't over-think something that isn't meant to be thought of that way, okay?
Jesse told me something not too long ago you know, about how people should only
be guilty for the things they're really guilty of, and not for the things they
aren't. You didn't have anything to do with this, so yeah, take a chill pill,
okay?"
Pete sharply
turned and threw his hands up in the air with a sudden annoyance. "Jesse
said this, or Jesse said that... Shit, man, do you even hear yourself? Why does
everything suddenly have to be about what Jesse says and does anymore? I
mean... fuck!" he exclaimed. His voice was low and hollow, but filled with
an obvious level of vented frustration. "Okay, I get it, he's your friend,
alright? Probably a better friend than I'll ever deserve to have, and that's
fine - I deserve it. But... shit..." When he saw the other teenager's eyes
narrow and body stiffen, Pete decidedly couldn't deal with it. He waved it off
and stepped around the teen then, quickly leaving the restroom.
Noah stood in
place, stunned for the moment before he finally followed. Upon returning to the
table, he saw the other boy was finally in the buffet line and pointedly
ignoring him, so Noah took his seat with an uneasy feeling. He tried to think
back, but failed to understand where Pete was coming from. They had had very
little interaction in recent weeks, none of which would call for the outburst
he had just received, so it left him confused. The three adults were deep into
conversation, and only Martha seemed to directly acknowledge his return, which
was fine by him. Noah sat down quietly and took a few small bites of his food,
trying to think about what had brought all that on. So deep was his
concentration that he almost failed to note when Pete returned and sat down
next to him.
Both boys remained
silent for some time, nibbling away at their food, but neither was very
invested at the moment. Noah continued mulling over the onslaught he had just
endured, all the while Pete, feeling hopelessly confused himself, only sulked
and picked at his food. At least, until he finally let go of a deep breath and
purposefully nudged the younger teen with his leg. Glancing sideways, he gave
Noah a half-smile, which the boy tried to return. The move at least broke the
ice for them both, which was a positive sign.
When the two
appeared to finally finish, Pete nudged the teen again a second time, before
nodding toward the far corner where the now-familiar pinball machine sat,
unoccupied. "Do you happen to have any quarters on you?" he asked
quietly.
Surprised, Noah
nodded. "A few, yeah," he replied, before getting up and whispering
to James where they were headed. Both Mr. McAllister and Jim acknowledged him,
and then the boys headed over. Upon arriving at the machine, Noah set up a
match for two players, before letting Pete take the first turn.
"I'm
sorry," Pete began, as he plunged the first ball into action. "What I
said was out of line, and, well... I'm sorry." It was an apology spoken
softly, but Noah could sense the bigger boy was being sincere.
Noah contemplated
that for a minute before he answered. "It's okay. You should know though,
he was talking about you, Pete."
"Huh?"
Pete asked, frowning.
"When Jesse
was talking about how people shouldn't be guilty for something they didn't do,
well, he was talking about you. I think it might have been when we were talking
to Mr. Green about the drugs and stuff at school and all," Noah explained
quietly.
Pete dropped his
head then, ignoring the ball as it slipped past the paddles and into the
outgoing trap. When the machine switched up for the next player, he still stood
there momentarily before looking up. Stepping aside, Noah took his place while
the older teen contemplated the game, but clearly his thoughts were elsewhere.
"You know, I found out about it. He hinted at it when we met in the park,
but it didn't really hit me until earlier today, when Jim and Mr. Green were
talking," he finally confessed. "I just... it's hard, okay? I mean,
all this shit and everything. I'm the one responsible for this crap, you know?
All of it! And yet... but still... Jesse's the one who seems to keep pulling me
out of... out of trouble, see? And... and it's just - it's hard for somebody
like me to process and understand why, okay? I just… I don't deserve it, yet,
he… he…" The boy was near tears, and he turned away to hide them from Noah
and any other onlookers who might catch him unaware.
Noah stood silent
for a moment, playing his turn out until he lost the ball, before standing back
to let Pete take over again. When the boy detected it was his turn, he shook
his head. "You play it," he whispered, but Noah shook his head as
well.
"No, come on
man, it's your turn," he responded, moving to the other side of the
machine. Pete composed himself and turned back, but could not help notice how
much closer Noah had suddenly moved in to stand beside him. In fact, he was
practically shielding the older boy from the rest of the room.
"I'll be alright,
just..." Pete started, but Noah simply tapped the glass, indicating that
Pete should launch the ball. When Pete put it into play, Noah took a deep
breath and spoke low enough that only the other teen could hear him.
"You're
right, Pete. I do talk about Jesse a lot sometimes, and even his little
brother, too. I talk about him though, because Jesse is the one who changed me
a lot, for the better, see? He was... well, in the beginning, I thought he was
kind of an oddball sometimes, but as I got to know him, it didn't turn out that
way at all." Noah grunted then, causing Pete to glance up briefly, before
returning his attention to the game. "He has this thing see, this part on
the inside that just, I don't know, just cares about everyone else, but really
little to nothing about himself. It took me a while to see that, and then even
longer to understand it, you know? I mean, face it - who do we know in the
whole fucking school that's, like, so selfless and all, and... and... who keeps
picking himself up, after everything that gets thrown at him or his family? The
storm, getting called queer, losing practically everything... even his brother,
almost. I have never, even once, heard him complain about that stuff, not like
I would expect a lot of other people to do, you know? I mean it, all he does it
seems is to just shrug it all off and keep on going!"
Pete thought about
that for a moment before whispering, "I don't know. I mean, I don't know
of anyone like that, not really."
"Exactly," Noah replied. "And then you take me. You were
right about what you said that day at the park. All I ever wanted was to just
find somewhere to... to fit in, you know? To just make it through high school,
really. Me, the kid who practically got raped by a girl at a skating party, and
got so scared and fucked over that I practically crapped my pants like a little
kid." He saw Pete's look of utter surprise at that statement, and then
realized what he had just confessed. He was more surprised, however, at Pete's
reaction.
"Amber?"
Pete asked quietly. "Amber went after you?"
Pete blushed.
"Yeah," he whispered in return before sighing. ""Yeah, me!
I mean, I was a kid, okay? I… I was so confused and hurt for a long time,
and... and just alone."
Pete grunted.
"I wouldn't lose any sleep over it, Cook. Amber was, well… from the things
I've heard, it wouldn't surprise me if she got in bed with half of your
class."
"Maybe, but…
it still bothered me anyway. I mean, it turned me into the worst jack-ass of
them all in the beginning. You don't know how bad off I was, Pete, okay?
Remember when that tornado took the McAllisters' home and everything else that
they had, and then my parents pulled them in to stay with us for a week? I was
one royal, pain-in-the-ass jerk! I was the one who hated all of them for living
with us, and I hated him the most at the time, because, well... all because...
all because... Hell, I don't even know anymore."
Pete lost his
second ball then, so once again the two switched places. "Probably because
it had a lot to do with me and the guys," he whispered. "See? I told
you, it's my fault that-"
"Shut the
fuck up," Noah breathed before leaning in close again. "Okay, maybe
some, yeah. But... I'll tell you something else, man. As much of an asshole as
I was to them, and to 'him' especially... Jesse was the one who didn't give up
on me. You talk about what he's doing for you, think about what he did for me.
I don't know why, but it had nothing to do with being gay or anything else like
that, see? If anything, he... he's the one who kind of taught me how to stop
feeling sorry for myself, not just with words but... in other ways, too. He's
the one who made me see things around me a lot differently than I did before.
Then because of that, I saw how wrong I was. I was wrong about him, my parents,
school... really, about a lot of things I took for granted. And all the time
I'm being a dick-head to him, and my parents and whoever else, there was
someone who..." Noah sighed. "Don't you see, Pete? Jesse's the one
who never gave up on me. That's what friends are all about, you know? They
stick with you, through the best and worst of it all, and they don't leave you.
Get it? Jesse is one of those who never left me, even when you and the others
did. How... how could I not, you know, find something in that and all? That's
my best friend, my real friend, and... and..."
A silence fell
between them momentarily as Noah worked the pinball back into the upper portion
of the table before he spoke again. "You want to know something else?
Despite everything you or the guys tried to rag on me about, I decided that I
didn't care if Jesse was gay or not. I mean, that's really why you started
bitching on me, wasn't it? Because once I started talking with him, you figured
it would be another way to get to him… right? But see, I didn't care though,
because being friends with him had nothing to do about being gay, or sex or any
of that other crap! What it did have to do with, was having someone who
listened to me without laughing, or throwing everything back in my face."
Pete nodded.
"I'm sorry. I know it now, but… yeah…"
Noah smiled then.
"He helped me reason through everything I was going through, and then
some. That whole time he stayed with us, Pete? All I saw was a normal person,
you know, and as I got to realize that, things started changing for me. Don't
you see? He was teaching me how to be a human being again, and that hit pretty
deep on the inside." When he lost the ball, he looked up straight into the
older teen's eyes. "Anyway, so yeah, I guess I do talk about Jesse a lot
sometimes, and I'm sorry if it seems like, I don't know, I put him up on some
kind of a pedestal or whatever. I don't mean to, really, but Pete... these last
couple of months? Jesse's the one who has been in my life, helping me put it
all back together again! That's why he and I are so close. That's why... I
mean, as much as he cares about all of us, it's why I care so much, too - even
about you. I don't want you to be miserable over something that's not your
fault. And what happened today? That isn't even close to your fault, really.
Understand?"
Pete listened, but
as he put the ball into play, he had little concentration to give it, and it
quickly exited, thus finishing their game. His thoughts returned to what Martha
had told him just a few hours before, about how there are angels among us, that
help us get through the rough times. No matter where they come from, sometimes
in people, our friends or others, they're there to help hold us up. To Pete, it
sounded like that was what Jesse was doing, not just for Noah... but for a lot
of people. When the older teen glanced up at Noah again though, he was
surprised to find a smile waiting for him, which helped calm himself
considerably. "I'm glad for you, really. I- I couldn't see it then, I
know. I can look back on it now though, and... I can tell something wasn't
right with you. I mean, I could tell you were hurting. I just... I didn't know
how, or why. Maybe I could have been a better friend, but…"
Noah nodded.
"It's the same with you, man. I saw you and your friends as just being, I
don't know, maybe bullies and whatnot. For a while I was okay with it, as long
as it was just having a little playful fun, mostly. Heck, it kept anyone from
messing with me, too, right? But... after a while, it just started to feel
wrong, and... and after the McAllisters moved in with us, I started getting
even more confused. I didn't understand you at all, and why you were getting so
wrapped up in everything about Jesse. It stayed that way, too, at least until
the day you turned yourself in. That's when I started to realize there was
something more to you than I ever gave you credit for." Noah suddenly
folded his arms. "No, I take that back. I didn't start to see there was
another side of you until Jesse and I were in the hospital. That's when he
started talking about what happened, and that maybe you weren't as big of an
asshole as I thought you were. That was a hard thing for me to accept, you
know? But... That's when I started putting things together. That's when you
didn't have a bullseye painted on your ass so much anymore, with your pants
dropped to the knees and you mooning everybody in plain sight." The teen
giggled. "Or at least, that's what I always thought you wanted to do to
everyone."
Pete grunted, but
then smiled. "Never considered that one," he replied, finally
chuckling at the thought.
Noah grinned as
well, before pulling more coins from his pocket. Seeing that the adults were
still deep into their conversation, he inserted the required fare and set up
another matched play. Both boys played the round mostly in silence, but this
time concentrating much more seriously than before in the open competition. As
they neared finishing, Pete finally sighed out loud. "Okay, Noah - I know
I was a jack-ass, but I'm ready to pay for it all now. When you see him, you
can tell Jesse I'll even go hang myself from the ropes in the locker room, and
let everyone strip me naked and beat the shit out of me, if he wants me to.
Tell him... I mean it, just tell him I'll do anything, okay? I'll… I'll even go
to jail if that's what I need to do. Honest, I don't care anymore. I just... I
really need to find a way to make things right, especially with him. No matter
what you say, I still started at lot of this on him, and it doesn't take a
horse's ass to know it, okay? I… like I said, I need to make it right, with
both of you, more than anything, okay? I don't care what I have to do... I
just... I need to make things right. I don't think I'm ever going to get over
any of it now, until I do."
"You have
nothing to make right with me, Pete. But…" Noah grunted, shaking his head.
"As to Jesse, that's between you and him. Somehow, though, I don't think
he has any desire to see your french-fried fruit hanging on display, just so he
or anyone else can beat your balls to the size of grapefruits."
For some reason,
Pete found that so amusing he practically choked on his own laughter, enough so
that it made Noah grin as he took over his own turn once again. When the older
teen finally regained control, he suddenly hissed. "Shit, man! Where the
hell did THAT one come from? French-fried fruit?" he hissed. "That's
hilarious!"
Noah only
shrugged, but grinned his agreement. "I don't know. Saw it online
somewhere, I think. Probably has something to do with the banana and nuts us
guys have hanging you know where," was all he would admit. Only when the
game had ended for them both, did he speak again. "Just so you know, Jesse
hasn't said anything to me about it, nor have I heard anything from his
parents. If he wants to make something right with you, you'll know about it
soon enough, but until then... you have to give him some space, alright? He has
to get better first, more than anything. And that means not just physically,
but... on the inside, too. I have to have my friend back, Pete. He's like, I
don't know... he's like the brother I've never had, okay? Understand?"
Pete nodded.
"Yeah, believe it or not, I'm beginning to."
"As for
me," Noah went on, pausing only slightly. "It may take some time for
me to get used to the new you somewhat, but otherwise, we're good. Okay? I mean
that, too."
Pete observed the
teen briefly before smiling. "Th-thanks, man."
Before they walked
away from the game, however, he raised his fist in an unthreatening manner,
mid-air between them. Noah did the same, and they bumped, but Pete held the
connection just a second longer than he needed to. Neither said anything else
to the other, but then there was no need to. Another one of those unspoken
sentiments was exchanged: Pete's being one filled with relief and gratitude,
and Noah's being one of forgiveness.
«««««««««« _
»»»»»»»»»»
"Man, you are
a sight for sore eyes!"
Jesse made the
remark once they were alone and Noah was pulled up to the side of the bed,
sitting once again on a stool, although this one had seen better days. Although
it rocked on legs of uneven length, it did seem sturdy regardless, so he pulled
it up next to the bed so he could sit up close. Jesse's parents had stayed for
quite a while that evening, before surrendering the night to their son and his
best friend - but only with warnings to call if anything happened. Noah
reassured them he would, and after watching them take their leave, Noah felt
extremely grateful.
The hospital had
transferred Jesse once again to a semi-private room, a perk of sorts since he
was Makalah's son. The fact that there were plenty of empty rooms to spare
might have also contributed to the moment, too. One of the nurses came by
earlier and admitted to them all that the hospital had a rather low turnout at
the present, other than they seemed to be treating a few patients with flu-like
symptoms. Those 'victims', as she teasingly referred to them, were being housed
in a whole other wing, with the hopes of minimizing the spread to others, if
any at all.
Before his parents
left, however, near the end of the current shift, Jesse was surprised by a
visit from another nurse. When the young woman stepped into the room, she
greeted him politely and then handed him a card. "Do you remember the
little girl you gave that balloon to, on the day you checked out before
Christmas? Well, her mother heard about your mother working up here and all,
and so she came by right after the holiday to leave this with us up at the
station. We promised we'd give it to Makalah, or directly to you, as soon as we
could arrange it. Then, I just heard a little bit ago that you were back in
here for tonight, so… I thought I'd bring it around." She smiled at him,
and after he thanked her, she quietly disappeared while he opened the envelope.
Inside was a custom, hand-crafted card that was obviously the work of a youth.
In it was a simple message, thanking him for the gift, and she told him that
the balloon made her feel better for the rest of that day and even the next.
She also promised him a hug, if she ever got to meet up with him again.
"Aw, isn't
that sweet!" Makalah had commented, especially after hearing about the
details with which no one had filled her in. Jesse nodded, and then set the
card up on the table next to him. It was now, in their solitude, that he
glanced at the card again and smiled.
As Noah sat on his
stool with everyone else now gone, Jesse's remark made him smile. "You
are, too. I mean, you're a sight for sore eyes, too."
Jesse shook his
head. "I doubt as much, though. I mean, when I woke up and saw where I was
again..." The teen sighed. "I'm sorry. I guess I really scared you
and Dad, didn't I?"
Noah shrugged.
"Um, maybe a little, yeah, but... I'm just glad I found you and all, and
that we got you here before it could turn out any worse."
Jesse sank back in
his bed. "I guess, but... yeah. I didn't mean to, really... I've just, you
know, been so out of it the last few days." The teenager sighed again.
"That's beginning to sound like a broken record, isn't it? I just didn't
think of it building up to something like this, though."
Noah looked around
the room before reaching out for Jesse's hand, grasping it firmly. "But it
did, and it did because you're not talking to me, and telling me everything
that's going on with you. " Grunting, he shook his head. "Do you want
to know what I was thinking about, when the doctor told us you were going to be
alright? For just a moment there, I was thinking how much I wanted to whoop
your ass... for not making me realize how 'off' you were feeling. And
then," he paused, shifting himself more comfortably. "And then I
wanted to beat my own ass for not realizing it any sooner. All the signs were
there, you know? But…"
"But... I'm
the one who kept telling you not to worry, that I was fine... and I really
thought that, honest," Jesse whispered back. "I just... I don't know,
I'm still figuring it all out, I guess."
"Well, you're
not figuring it out by yourself anymore," Noah replied with a whisper.
"Whatever you tell your parents, that's up to you. What you're telling me,
though... I won't forgive you again if you hold out on me, okay?" He
leaned in close. "Don't you get it? We're brothers now, and that means
we're responsible for each other. So, all this complaining about still figuring
things out, it's over now, Jesse. We're going to start figuring it out now,
together. Understand?"
Jesse smiled.
"Yeah, I get it. I promise, I'll be, uh, more forthcoming from now on, if
I need to be."
"Damned
straight you will!" Noah replied with a grin, but then sighed. "You
know, we've got to do something about keeping you at home. We can't 'play' like
we want to when you're in here."
Jesse blushed
slightly. "I know. I'm trying though, I promise."
"Did they
skin you again?" Noah asked, his voice turning consciously low.
Jesse blushed even
deeper still, but nodded. "Almost. I've still got my underwear on, but
there was one time that Doc, well... he pulled them down and went exploring, I
guess. It was… well, weird, but, meh. I guess he felt like he had to."
Noah grunted.
"I guess old guys don't get to see enough of us teenagers like they want
to." Seeing Jesse begin to crack up, he made a face. "You know what I
mean! They probably just get mostly older, grey-haired and wrinkled pricks to deal
with anymore! And who knows what happens to your balls at that age!"
Jesse laughed hard
then, tears coming to his eyes unabashedly. "Shit, Noah!" he hissed,
but had to settle down when one of his monitors began going off. Within seconds
he found the lead and pushed it back in, silencing the device before one of the
nurses would have to come and check on it. "You might be right, though. I
have no idea what happens down there as guys get older."
"Of course,
I'm right!" Noah replied, before leaning in close. "Still... want to
know something? I think your banana is just the right size, and definitely
smooth enough to be gobbled up, to me anyway. So, no worries in that
department." Noah nuzzled Jesse's ear then, which made the teenager
respond by leaning in closer together.
"You know,
sometimes I think I'm the luckiest kid alive, having you beside me," Jesse
whispered.
"And
Benji?" Noah teased, backing away just slightly with an amused look.
Jesse began to
object. "Don't start with him, come on man, it's different between us,
he's… he's..."
"SSShhhh,"
Noah whispered, soothing the objection before it progressed any further.
"I know it is, Jess. I'm here with you now though, okay?" Noah
brushed their noses together for a few seconds, before pulling back and
situating himself more comfortably upon the stool. "Now, I've got some
news for you, and believe me, you're going to probably freak out! I
think..."
«««««««««« _
»»»»»»»»»»
"Pete, why
don't you join us in the living room here for a bit here," Jim Hunt
announced, once they had returned home and entered the house again. "I
think Martha and I want to talk something over with you."
Pete glanced at
the two with a sudden feeling of apprehension, but he nodded in agreement as he
followed them. The room was already lit with the twinkling, multi-colored
lights on the Christmas tree that had yet to be taken down. A brightly
illuminated garland stretching across the fireplace mantle also provided
additional illumination to the room. Martha turned on one of the table lamps,
however, before she indicated a spot at the end of the couch. As the teen sat
down, she joined him as Jim crossed and took his usual place nearby in his
recliner. Once settled, they sat in silence for a moment before the Sheriff
cleared his throat. "So, I guess we should start off with a question the
two of us for you, and I'd really appreciate it if you'd take a few seconds to
think about it before you answer, alright?" When the teenager nodded, the
man's gaze fell upon him directly with an intense scrutiny. "Tell us, how
did it feel, being here with the family and all these last few days?"
Pete suddenly
arched his eyebrows in surprise. In a sense, he thought this topic might come
up at some point before he had to leave and be placed into foster care, but it
was unexpected to have surfaced now. "I- I thought, honest, it was one of
the best times I've ever had. Especially while spending time with your
grandson, Justin. He was really cool to hang out with, I think. He made me... I
don't know, he made me think about some things, I guess." He paused,
before lowering his voice. "I'm hoping that we can stay friends after
everything else gets settled, too. I'd hate to, like, lose him and all."
"Well,
friendships are kind of hard to break in this family," Martha replied.
"Especially when they're sincere."
Jim cleared his
throat. "I agree, and I think Justin could use having you around some,
too. He certainly seemed to take up with you, that's for sure. So, Martha and I
got to talking last night, and we wondered how you might feel making this a more,
ah, permanent situation."
Pete sensed there
was something here he was missing. "How so? I mean, I can always call,
maybe visit sometimes, but..."
"What he
means is, how would you feel just staying here with us for a while?"
Martha blurted out. Seeing the disbelief register on Pete's face, she suddenly
chuckled. "Oh, come on now, you can't be that surprised about it."
Jim laughed as
well. "I don't know, dear... this one seems to be a little slow on the
uptake at times," he teased before holding a hand up. "Just listen to
me for a minute, okay? I know... it's a surprise and all, but it isn't
something we haven't been considering. Since you showed up here and started
being a part of the family, well... it's kind of hard for the two of us to shake
the feeling we'd be letting you go into a heartless system, one where it's
anybody's game on where you'll turn up at, see?"
"Huh?"
Pete remarked, frowning. "What do you mean?"
"Well, there
are several reasons, actually. First of all, you're 15 and, if I recall
correctly, it won't be too long before you turn 16. That already makes getting
into the fostering process kind of late in the game, and that in turn most
likely means you'll end up in one of those boys' homes, somewhere up in the
state. Some of them are decent, but I have to tell you some of them aren't the
best, if you know what I mean. Granted, you'd only be there for a couple of
years until you turn 18, but that's two years of your life that will still be
subject to a large number of unknowns, overall. Second of all, from my
perspective, I don't really want you to get that far away from here, especially
when there are things we're still going to have to deal with regarding your old
homestead, your father and the others."
Pete looked on,
dumbfounded, which caused Jim to pause. That in turn allowed Martha to pick up
the conversation. "It's not all about the job, though. The thing is, you
have little to nothing to go back to, and you really need to go forward. I
openly admit, I never considered this at first. We've raised two daughters in
this house, and all the experience I've had is doing just that - raising two
girls. I've never raised a boy, you see, and never even really considered that
I would. In fact, I would actually be against this idea, I think - except for
one thing. You see, from the first moment you and I sat down on this couch that
very first day, I could sense something that I didn't really expect. Would you
like to know what I saw?"
Pete stared at the
woman and, when he realized she was waiting for an answer, he nodded. "I
saw," Martha continued, "a remarkable young man who just needed to
get his head on straight."
"Which, as
far as I've seen, you've been doing a pretty good job with," Jim picked up
again. "Now, you have to understand a few things. Most people, most
teenagers at best, don't give a shit about situations like this by the time
they reach your age. By then, it's to hell with the system, see, and they just
can't wait to get out and away from it all. As soon as that 18th birthday hits,
they're gone like a fart in the wind." The man saw his wife grimace, for
which he gave her an apologetic look before sitting forward in his chair.
"You'll probably do the same thing, at some point in your life - but what
would mean the most to Martha and myself, is if when you do leave, it's not
with that kind of an attitude. You see son, we care, and I think that's been
abundantly clear up to now, hasn't it? We think a lot of you, and because we
know where you've come from and all, we think you'd be a lot happier if you
stuck around here for a while. The people here know you, and from the looks of
things, you're getting to acquire a few new friends along the way who would be
very happy if you stayed around. I know that as far as the two of us, we'd be
happier if you'd stuck around, too. Justin would probably be thrilled, and
that's putting it mildly."
Martha chuckled
beside him. "Oh, that wouldn't even begin to describe it!"
Pete glanced at
her, but then turned his gaze back to Jim. "I... well, that's all good,
but... you said it yourself, sir. There... there's still some things that have
to be sorted out, things I have to answer to, and... and..."
"One of the
reasons we went to see Harland today was to get the biggest item off of your
plate," Jim replied kindly. "Or, at least, get a feel about what we'd
be dealing with. Believe me, when Ronald gets done sifting through those videos
and pulling together all the facts, I'm pretty sure he'll go before the judge
and probably get it all dismissed." The man paused, however, as he
regarded the boy again. "Then the only other thing that remains, I think,
that could outright snag you up - is the assault up there at the school. Not
the best of circumstances, I'll admit, but there's something you should know
about that."
"He's
right," Martha interjected again. "While you boys were playing that
game tonight, Jim asked Mr. McAllister if he had had any thoughts regarding
what they intended to do about it. Meaning, of course, was he going to push for
charges against you, or anything else. He surprised us by saying that,
according to him, neither he nor his wife had thought anything about it yet. It
was his opinion that it should be whatever his son wanted to do, since he was
the one on the receiving end of all that happened up there. Jesse, I believe
was his name, right?"
Jim nodded.
"You see, that's a big thing, Pete. If Jesse's parents get involved and
press charges, you'll have no choice but to go before a judge, with a lawyer
and all, along with the school system. Although I admit that you may have some
mitigating circumstances, in the eyes of the law you will still be guilty of
being an accessory to an assault. Even though it was on school grounds, which
tend to handle things separately, this is one of those cases they cannot
interfere in. But, if they don't press charges, then it all changes and does
become a school matter, you see. Right now, Harland Green is also willing to
let Jesse make that decision. It's as if you have to get through two gates at
the same time, one of which could force me to process you through the system,
or another that could still decide to expel you for the rest of the school
year. Understand? Does that make sense?"
Pete felt as if
his head were spinning. "I- I think so, yeah. But... if he doesn't, what,
press charges or something? Him or his parents?" he whispered.
"Like I said,
if he does, then you'll have to deal with them and probably the school system,
and whatever aftermath comes from it will be your atonement. If they don't
though, then... remarkably so, then you'll have nothing more to worry
about," Jim stated simply.
"But... what
about social services, and... and..." Pete objected, still trying to
process the information.
"Social
services will leave you alone, if we apply to foster you for the next two
years," Martha replied. "Seriously, that is not the problem. We know
of others who have done it in such circumstances, so there is nothing
extraordinary in getting it done."
"Many
families have had to submit in the past, because they've found it difficult to
afford the feed and care of grandchildren, or similar. So, like Martha said,
the two of us getting to take over your care shouldn't be a problem -
especially, again, if I get Ronald involved with it." Jim paused before
lowering his voice again. "The thing at this point though, is you Pete.
How do you feel about it? You understand, we're up in years, and we don't have
a lot of stamina to deal with a wild, girl-crazy youngster and all. So far
though, I don't think we'll have any issue with that. What you might need to
consider though, son, is how you're going to have to adjust."
"Adjust?" Pete said quietly, almost a whisper.
"You're
already a teenager, Pete, but you'll be one suddenly living out here with the
Sheriff of Adair County! We don't know what that's going to mean to your peers
at school, or out here in the real world, or if that social life of yours even
matters to you! The only thing we DO know is that it'll be an abrupt change of
lifestyle from the one you've been used to living. Because of that, yes - there
will be adjustments, no doubt," Martha explained. "Just like Jim and
I are going to have to adjust to you being around here, there will be some
trial-and-error for you, too. We can't promise it will always be smooth, but
then neither can you. What we can say though, is that for the next two years or
more, it will be interesting for all of us around here."
"To say the
least," Jim muttered, smiling.
"You hush
up," Martha admonished him good naturedly, before continuing. "We'll
help you, though. I mean, seriously, that's what all of this is about in the
end. We'll see to it you have a safe place to stay, where you'll be
appreciated, and looked after. We're both fully aware we'll never replace your
parents, oh no! Neither of us will ever assume that, nor do we ever want to,
for that matter! But... what we will do is be your friends, and your mentors,
and we'll help you get yourself back on track. Don't think that means we'll
smother you, either - because like most things in life, you have to be able to
discover the adventure on your own. But... we promise we'll be that someone you
can come home to, from school or work, and you'll know we're here to look out
for your best interest when the need arises. We'll help you learn how to drive,
and to get a job, and even more when the times come, see? We'll help you have
some fun too, and teach you when you need to be serious about life, or to just
smile, maybe let things go. In all these things, we're willing to give it our
best shot, just so you can give it your best shot."
"The money
will be yours, too, by the way," Jim spoke up. "We'll take what the
state gives us and put it aside, other than we might dip into it a little bit
so you can build up a better wardrobe for yourself. Certainly, more than what
you can fit into a backpack! Otherwise though, we'll drop the bulk of it into a
savings account or something for you for a little while. Then, when you do get
your license and can drive responsibly, we'll see about finding you a vehicle
that you can buy on your own. It'll be yours, because like I said, you'll buy
it with your own money, and make payments for anything beyond that. The point
is though, you have my word: we won't touch a dime of what the state pays us
otherwise, unless something just comes up that causes us to really have to."
Pete sat back. "I wouldn't care if you
took it all," he whispered, but then shook his head before laughing.
"You... I can't, I mean... To think you would be willing to take a has
been, someone like me, and... and..."
Martha sat up and
gave the teen an indignant look. "'Has-been?' I won't have any more of
that, I tell you!" she said rather sternly, but then broke into her own
smile. "Yes, we would be willing to take you in. It's only for a few short
years anyway. That is, a few short years for me and Jim. It's not like there is
some long, deep commitment here - not monetarily, that is. But... it will be
another kind of commitment, and one I personally hope you'll recognize and
learn to appreciate, on the inside. You're not a has-been; you never were before,
and you're certainly not one now."
Pete nodded,
recognizing her point already. "I would be... I would... I would be a part
of your family then, right? For a little while?"
Jim smiled.
"No, not for a little while. That is something that might surprise you, I
think. You see, you will become a part of our family, yes - though it will be
for as long as we are both living, I suspect, and then even beyond that."
Pete suddenly
blinked several times, comprehending his meaning before breaking out in tears,
unable to hold back any longer. "You'd do that... for me?"
Martha decidedly
scooted over a little closer and then took the teen within her arms, just as he
began to shake quietly with the tears flowing down his cheeks. "Yes, we'd
do that... just for you," she said reassuringly. She glanced at her
husband, thinking about the last few days and what she had observed. "Like
we said, we know it won't be anything perfect, but... we know you'll be safe,
and you know you'll be well cared for. That would be worth it to anyone who
cared, I think - and yes, Pete, we do care." She continued to hold him for
some minutes until the teenager seemed to recompose himself. She eventually
pulled back and, holding him at arms' length, the woman observed him with a gleam
in her eyes. "So, does this mean 'yes'?"
Pete sat in
silence for only a few seconds before smiling. "There is nothing I think
could make me happier, really." He reached out and embraced her again
briefly, before retreating and standing up. Moving over to Jim, he observed the
man before extending his hand. "Thank you, for everything. I really mean
it."
Jim grunted,
however, before taking the hand and pulling himself slowly to his feet. It was
there the man embraced the boy on his own. "See? Some of us old farts will
give out hugs too, every once in a while," he whispered, chuckling.
"Just remember: sometimes, there are a few good things in life that turn
out even better. I happen to believe this is one of them, don't you?"
Pete nodded into
the man's shoulder before stepping back. "What... I mean, what happens if
a-any of this d-doesn't go like y-you think it will?" Pete asked, still
feeling very emotional.
"Well, then
we'll deal with it when we cross that bridge, won't we? You won't have to face
it alone though, I assure you," Jim simply stated. "But... as I've
told you before, I'm a pretty good judge of character, I think, and I've been
in this job long enough to know how the ball bounces most of the time." He
smiled. "I'm pretty sure it's all going to work out just fine. Remember
what I've said about my family? Remember what I told you on Christmas
Eve?"
Pete nodded.
"Oh, yeah," he whispered.
Martha then stood
and approached them both. "Okay... we do have one favor to ask: be selective
who you tell this to, alright? It's going to take Jim a few days to get all the
paperwork ironed out with the right people, so let's not get too far in letting
the cat out of the bag until we have to." When Pete nodded his
understanding, she then smiled and pulled out her cell phone before handing it
over to him. "However, I do think you should give Justin a call tonight,
and fill him in on the details. Then maybe tomorrow or Thursday, you and I can
both take a ride up there and visit for the day. Somehow, I bet you'd both like
that anyway."
Pete smiled,
thinking about something that Noah had told him. What it did have to do
with though, was him teaching me how to be a human being again. Pete
thought about that a lot, and he realized he was really missing out on
something important - until now. "I know, I certainly would," he
replied to the woman.
He understood it
now... in his heart.
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