Date: Wed, 30 Nov 2016 05:28:48 +0000 From: Douglas DD Subject: Aiden Chapter 16 Thanks for returning. Aiden uses what he learned from his cousin chase to do some experimenting with Miles. Please give to the Nifty Archive. Help keep the stories coming. CHAPTER 16 SHOWDOWN Sunday night, Aiden was in his bed and on his back. He peered over Larry's shoulder as he started the evening's read from "The Cay". Aiden was wondering if they should start the reading earlier in the evening. He always fell asleep too quickly and as a result the pace was slow. Larry started his reading. "The next morning my father said that the Chinese crews on the lake tankers that shuttled crude oil across the sand bars at Maracaibo had refused to sail without naval escorts." Aiden could see why Chase liked the story. It was about a boy who lived on Curacao, an island in the southern Caribbean, during World War II. German submarines were sinking the tankers. Phillip's parents decided to put him on a ship for the United States and relative safety. Aiden was determined to stay awake and managed to do so through the sinking of the tanker "Empire Tern" as it steamed out of Willemstad, the capital of Curacao. Phillip had witnessed the sinking from a bridge in the harbor. Aiden fell asleep dreaming of being Phillip flying an airplane and sinking the U-boat. On Monday morning, Aiden joined Larry at the breakfast table. Aiden had hit snooze on his alarm and was running late. As a result, instead of being in his usual breakfast garb of t-shirt, briefs, and socks, he was dressed and ready for school. "We got our first flag football game at lunch today," Aiden said. "We have our first flag football game," Larry reminded him. "Whatever," Aiden grumped as he poured Raisin Bran into his bowl. "It's no fun having an uncle who's a teacher." "Teachers make you smarter," Larry said as he spooned his cereal. "No, teachers make you madder." It was all Larry could do not to break out laughing, which would have sent the cereal in his mouth spraying over the breakfast table. "What's so funny?" Aiden asked. Larry reached over and ruffled his nephew's unruly blond hair. "My nephew is funny and he makes my life brighter by being a part of it." "For real?" "Absolutely for real. How are the Broncos going to look at lunch today?" "We got me and Gordy on the team so we'll look good." Aiden looked over at Larry who was chewing his toast. "We HAVE Gordy and I on the team," he beamed. "Good save," Larry said. "But it would be we have Gordy and me on the team, although saying me and Gordy is almost acceptable." "I'm never going to get this figured out," Aiden moped. "I bet Marty never had to correct his English. Guys who play sports don't have to speak good English." "Why don't you ask Marty about that next time you see him?" Larry knew what Marty went through in high school to improve his spoken and written language. He went so far as to have one of the high school English teachers tutor him after school and sometimes on weekends. But he thought it would have more impact if Marty shared that with Aiden, seeing how the young boy worshipped his idol. Larry could read Aiden's mood shift and said, "Okay, tell me all about flag football and I promise no more corrections before school." Aiden's beaming smile told Larry he'd made the right move. "Gary is going to be our quarterback and he's our captain. I like Gary. He picked me to be on his team. He even picked one of the girls who wanted to play football." The girls would be playing intramural soccer, but three of them wanted to play flag football, which didn't seem to bother anybody. "I'm glad I wasn't picked to be on Barry's team," Aiden went on. "Barry is a bully and I don't like him." "Oh?" Larry asked. "And what makes you think he's a bully?" "I know he pushes Mason around and I heard he takes money from Mason and a couple other fourth graders and from some of the third graders." "Why doesn't anybody complain to Mrs. Finstuen or somebody?" "Because they're all scared of him since they know he pushes guys around. He's a fucktard." "Aiden," Larry reproached him half-heartedly. "I can't help it because that's what he is." "Has he tried bullying you?" Aiden nodded and slurped a spoonful of cereal before answering. "He calls me a queer faggot because I live with you and Uncle Phil. And Roger, his fucktard friend..." "Aiden!" "...tried to pick on Mason but I stood between them," Aiden went on ignoring the interruption, "until Mrs. Lollar got mad at him for calling me a faggot." "Just don't get into any fights. I know you got in trouble for fighting in your school last year." "You know everything. I only got in fights because they were fucktard bullies." Aiden didn't fail to notice the lack of an interruption when he said "fucktard" this time. "I don't take no shit from anybody." Larry couldn't help but think how much Aiden's attitude on bullying matched Phil's when he was a preteen. "Sometimes it pays to walk away and let the teachers take care of things." "They didn't care at my old school." Aiden then went into one of his subject changes. "I wonder why Mason didn't have a birthday party. It was his birthday last week and he never had a party. Only a few of the guys even said happy birthday. Mason might be a pussy, but I like him." He then flipped the subject back to the original one. "Gary says I'm gonna be a wide receiver because I'm little and fast and Gordy is going to be our running back. Samantha is going to be a receiver, too, but I don't know if she can catch the ball." Larry had no reply for Aiden's concerns regarding Mason. "Did you guys have any practices?" "They just picked the team, but we had one so far on Friday at morning recess and we're having one today at morning recess. I hope we kick the Seahawks ass because of Barry and Roger." "Who referees the game?" "Mr. Richards and the captains of the two other teams." "Good luck, kiddo." "Thanks. I think we're gonna be a good team." Aiden excused himself from the table, rinsed his dishes, placed them in the dishwasher, and went upstairs to brush his teeth and make an attempt at combing his hair. Larry ruffled his nephew's hair when he came back down, negating what little combing Aiden had managed to accomplish. "I can't look good if you keep messing me up," the nine-year-old groused. "You look just fine to me. We wouldn't want you looking too good or the girls will fall all over you." "Yuck, I hate girls, though Samantha is okay. She don't mind blocking." Aiden grabbed his backpack and walked out to the edge of the road to wait for the school bus. The weather was gray and cool, but dry. When he saw the bus approach, he remembered his instructions to not cross the road until the bus stopped and the red lights were flashing and the stop sign was displayed on the side of the bus. Mrs. Emerson, the bus driver stopped the bus and set warning devices. Aiden checked both ways before he started to cross, remembering his uncles telling him that there were bad drivers who passed school buses even when they had the red lights flashing. It turned out it was a good thing he checked as a blue SUV coming from the opposite direction of the bus never slowed down and whizzed past Aiden as he stood on the shoulder. Larry had seen the close call and was beyond pissed. He didn't recognize the car, but he knew that the cameras at the front and rear of the bus got a video of the wayward driver. The cameras had been installed two years ago and had resulted in a few unlawful drivers receiving expensive citations. "That was a crazy driver," Aiden told Mrs. Emerson as he stepped onto the bus. "Are you okay?" the concerned bus driver asked. She saw Larry standing on the front porch and was ready to call him over if Aiden was shaken up. "I'm good, but he needs to get a ticket or something." "We have some expensive cameras on this puppy. Chances are good we'll nail his ass," Mrs. Emerson grinned. Aiden smiled back, enjoying the driver's use of a naughty word. "And you did a nice job of looking before you crossed the street. You were very safe and that kept you from being hurt." Aiden's grin became even broader. The bus driver opened her window and waved to Larry to indicate that everything was okay. Larry waved at the bus as it pulled away. He didn't know if Aiden saw him, but the act of waving removed a bit of his tension. Larry planned on finding out from the school district transportation director about what the cameras had picked up. He also noted that Aiden had done everything he'd been taught about crossing the street, which may have saved his life. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The Seahawk's quick practice during the fifteen-minute morning recess had gone well. The Broncos practiced on one end of the field, while the Seahawks were on the other end. Both teams were all business as Gary and Barry tried to install some plays for their teams. There was an air of excitement at lunch as everyone ate quickly so they would be ready to play at game time. The Seahawks won the coin flip and both teams were ready to play. The game went routinely for the first four possessions. It was the fifth possession that was anything but routine. Gary called for a pass play to either Aiden or Samantha, the two receivers. Aiden had already caught two passes, one for a first down. Gordon had been right when he noted that Aiden had sure, soft hands. Aiden noted that Barry was playing defensive end. He heard Barry call out a number as Gary gave the count. Aiden ran out, trying to get around Barry. Nobody had shown him the art of the fake, but he'd learned the importance of faking an opponent in soccer practice. He put a weak fake on Barry and was surprised when the fifth grader apparently fell for it. Gary's pass was a little bit high and Aiden jumped to reach for the ball. Just as he seemed to get his hands on it he felt something thud into his belly. He doubled over and collapsed to the ground. Ken, of the student referees, threw his yellow flag and yelled pass interference. "That wasn't interference," Gordon yelled, "that was like salt on the battery. Barry punched him." "All he did was bump him," Ken said, although he knew what really happened. Even though he was a fifth grader, he was intimidated by Barry. Gordon ran over to Aiden to see if he was hurt. His friend was lying face- down on the ground and wasn't moving. Mr. Richards ran quickly across the field, fearing the worst. Aiden rolled over onto his side. "Shit, that hurt," he gasped. "What happened?" His jeans had a hole torn at the right knee and blood was dripping onto the cloth from a serious scrape on his knee. He was holding his right ribs, fighting to get his breath. Barry stood over Aiden and looked down at him. "I'm sorry, Aiden. I guess I bumped you a bit too hard." Insincerity was oozing out of every one of Barry's pores. "You know you punched him in the gut," Gordon accused the big fifth grader. "That is so bogus. Just because he's your friend don't mean you have to lie about what happened." He looked over at Mason who was standing on the sidelines. "You saw what happened, Mason. Did I punch him?" Mason shook his head, then turned away. "He just bumped him," Roger said, coming to the defense of his friend. "You must have seen it, Mr. Richards," Gordon said. "You were looking right at the play." "Sorry, but I got bumped a bit myself. Samantha crashed into me just as the play was developing," Mr. Richards told the players. Samantha crashing into him was no accident. She'd been told by Barry to "accidently" run into the PE teacher when he called out "play thirteen". "I'll pay you ten dollars if you do it," Barry told her. "And you'll let me see you naked," Samantha said. "No way," Barry protested. "Fine, then I don't do it." "Okay, okay, I'll let you see me naked." "Fine, but now you owe me twenty dollars and you gotta get naked before next Monday." "Okay, but if you don't do it when I call the number then I'll beat you up." "You don't scare me, Barry Bender. I'll do what you want, but you better do what I want, too." Barry didn't realize that he was getting too clever for his own good. He thought that if everybody did what he told them to do, then everybody would think that what happened to Aiden was an accident. Just to show that his bumping Aiden was an accident, Barry helped Aiden up and escorted him off of the field. "Yeah, I punched you," he whispered to Aiden as they got to the sidelines. "You're a gay faggot queer wimp and everybody says so. So you better do what I say or next time I'll just plain kick your ass and tell everybody you started it." Barry didn't notice Mason standing within hearing range. By that time Mr. Richards had signaled the playground supervisor over. She told Aiden he should go to the nurse's office and got Vince, the captain of the Packers, to help him get there. Mr. Richards got the game going again. He told Barry that he wanted to talk to him after the game was over. The Broncos scored on that possession to take a 6-0 lead, but the Seahawks ended up being ahead of the Broncos 12-6 when the bell rang, giving them the win. Aiden ended up with bruised ribs and a scraped knee. "Could've been worse," the nurse said. "I hear we took quite a tumble." Monday happened to be one of her regularly assigned days at Lakeview School. Gordon and Muddy were happy to see Aiden hobble into class after he left the office. That meant he couldn't be too badly hurt. Aiden was disappointed to learn that the Broncos lost the game. The news increased his already sour mood. His mood got even worse when he got a note from the office that Larry was going to pick him up right after school, which meant he'd miss soccer practice. When Larry arrived at the school, he could see the black cloud hanging over his nephew's head from across the parking lot. Larry had received a call from Lorraine Defoe, the school nurse, about Aiden's tumble. "He must have landed right on his ribs," she said. "You might want to have him checked out, just to be sure nothing is cracked." Much to Aiden's chagrin, Larry drove him to the urgent care clinic in Kentburg, which was ten miles east of Mayfield. "I'm not that hurt," Aiden whined. "My ribs are just sore is all." Aiden was worried that something might actually be broken, which would mean he might not be able to play soccer for a while. "It's a good idea to be sure," Larry told him," especially when you're playing sports." Fortunately, it was determined that Aiden's ribs were just bruised. He received the go-ahead from the doctor at the clinic to play soccer and flag football. "But no tackling for at least a week," the doctor cautioned. Aiden thought that was dumb, since tackling wasn't even allowed. On the drive home, Larry asked for the details about what had happened on the pass play. From what he'd already heard about Barry, he suspected there was more to the story than an accidental bump. A bump from somebody fighting for a pass wouldn't create the kind of bruise that Aiden had. "Nothing happened, he bumped me is all," Aiden said without much conviction. Aiden didn't want his uncles to take care of his problems—he was determined to solve his own issues. "Aiden, I don't think you're being honest with me. If Barry hit you during the play I want to know about it. You've already told me he is a bully—was that play part of his bullying?" Aiden slumped down in the backseat and went into full sulk mode. Barry had slugged him and had told him why. For the moment he resented his uncles for being gay, which was why Barry was picking on him. The little nine-year-old was determined to exact his revenge on the big ten-year-old and to do it soon. They arrived at the house and entered through the garage. Aiden headed straight for his room, ignoring Larry. He knew his room was his private place and he intended to use it as such. While he had been promised privacy, nobody had promised him peace, however, and it didn't take long for Larry to knock on the bedroom door. Aiden ignored the knocking. "I have one more thing to say, son," came Larry's voice through the closed door. "I can say it now, or I can say it later, but I will say it." Aiden tried hard to ignore his uncle. He lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. "You aren't in any kind of trouble, but I want you to understand where I am coming from." "This is my room," Aiden finally said. "I understand that. If you don't want to invite me in, that is your prerogative, except under the circumstances we discussed. I just want the two of us to be on the same page." "What about Uncle Phil? Is he on the same page?" "Yes he is." Larry hadn't talked to Phil yet about the lunchtime incident, but he knew his husband would fully back him. Aiden took a deep breath. "Okay, you can come in." Aiden decided that if he was going to be in trouble for something, he might as well hear about it on his home ground. He was so worked up he had missed Larry's telling him he wasn't in trouble. Larry opened the door and sat on the bed next to Aiden. "Thank you for letting me in to talk to you." "Am I in trouble?" Larry's words of thanks surprised Aiden. Once again he was receiving respect from a male adult. He was still trying to get used to the kind of relationship that his uncles were trying to build. Larry mussed his nephew's hair, then asked him to sit up next to him. Aiden obeyed and was once again surprised when his uncle wrapped his arm around his shoulder and hugged him closely to his body. "I know there are some issues between you and Barry," Larry told his nephew. I understand that you want to handle this in your own way. Your Uncle Phil and I could be just as stubborn as you often are." "I'm not stubborn," Aiden protested. "Kiddo, you can be the very definition of stubborn at times." Larry then went on. "I just want you to know, Uncle Phil and I are both here for you. We love you and we want the best for you. Remember that there is a right way and a wrong way to handle problems. Do what you know is right, and things will work out." He kissed the young boy on his forehead. "That's all I wanted to say to you...do what you know is right." "I'll try," was all Aiden could think to say. Even after his uncle's admonition, he still wanted to solve his own problem in his own way. He wanted Barry to know he was not going to be pushed around by anybody, even a big, mean fifth grader. And he wasn't going to let any of his friends be pushed around either. "That's all I can ask for." Larry heard the garage door opening. "Sounds like Phil is home. Dinner will be started up soon." "I got some homework." "I have some homework," Larry corrected. "I knew that. I just wanted to see if you were listening." "How about you stretch out and relax before dinner. You've had a trying day. Homework will wait until after dinner." Aiden nodded and watched his uncle leave the room. He stripped down to his yellow briefs with green trim ("At least it won't show piss stains," Gordy had said after giving them a critical look the first time he saw them), white socks, along with the "Property of Mayfield Mustang Football" t-shirt he'd worn to school. He pulled his English assignment out of his backpack. The assignment was to write a paper about one of the stories in the reading book. He had to tell if the main character deserved to get a bicycle for his birthday. Even though he was in the top reading group, he thought the story was easy as well as kind of stupid. He knew that Bradley, the main character, deserved the bicycle. He got out some ruled paper and a pencil and then smiled. This would be the perfect time to use his new computer for his homework. He booted up the laptop and set to work. Larry told Phil about the events of the day. "It's a good thing we're able to get things in order before baseball season," Phil observed. "It's a good thing that Jim Richards was available to coach football," Larry mused. Larry had been assistant football coach for five seasons. In a small school everybody had to chip in. Larry told Mr. Wilson, the principal, that he would appreciate having a season away from football so he could concentrate on Aiden and helping him feel at home. The principal said he would see what he could do and was able to recruit Richards, who taught physical education at both elementary schools. He was in his second year of teaching and had assisted in wrestling during his first year. Phil chuckled as he poured the beef stew he'd prepared the night before into a cooking pot. "If it had been me at his age, I would look for Barry in the hall tomorrow and punch him in the gut." "I have to wonder how close the two of you are. He claims his fights last year were because he was going after bullies. Sounds a lot like a certain feisty little punk I fell in love with back in middle school." "Well, you started out being in lust," Phil laughed. "Now, I need you to get a salad ready, mister assistant cook." Just before dinner, Aiden came downstairs. "I need to learn to type better," he whined. "Did you try doing your homework on the laptop?" Phil asked. "Yep. I think I got it right, but it took forever. I printed it out." Aiden's laptop had been given a wireless connection with the printer on Larry's PC. Aiden pulled his paper out of the printer and handed it to Larry. Larry quickly read the paper. "Not bad. You didn't make very many errors, and most of them look like typos. We'll work on it after dinner. We'll see about taking time to improve your typing skills." Larry handed the paper back to Aiden. "Your writing grammar is better than your oral grammar. Good job." Aiden took his paper back to the dining room, sporting a big grin. The rest of the evening was filled with dinner, math homework, English corrections, reading his newest book, and a game of Scrabble. It was punctuated by Aiden being read to and tucked in by Phil. After Phil left the room, Aiden lay back down on his bed and pulled Horace next to him. He remembered the efforts of his uncles to get Horace returned to him. He knew he was lucky to have his two uncles to live with, but that didn't stop him from wanting to solve his own problems. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Tuesday at school went by quietly, which suited Aiden just fine. He didn't see much of Barry or Roger and did his best to stay out of their way. That evening, Peter talked to Barry about his punching out Aiden in the football game. "Good job, dude. The little faggot is scared of you, just like Mason and everybody else. Tomorrow you got remind him that you're the boss. Don't let him get comfortable and forget about your punch." Barry nodded and said he'd have some words with "the homo" the next day. "Are we gonna have some fun?" Barry asked. "You know we can't when my dad's home. I wish he'd go out to the tavern, cuz I am mega-horny and my right hand needs extra help." "Maybe tomorrow," Barry shrugged. Then he told Peter about what he owed Samantha. "For real? You're gonna strip for her?" Barry nodded and grinned. "You stud! Make sure she gets naked, too. And get her on your bed with you when you're both naked and kiss her. Next thing you know you'll be fucking her. I fucked my first girl when I was ten," Peter lied. "You just gotta find the right bitch to fuck." The next day Barry saw Aiden in the hall before school. None of his buddies were with him, not that any of the little fourth graders scared him. He would never admit it, but he was a little leery of Mudrak, who was ten and a big kid. Barry stood in front of Aiden, blocking his way. "Hey, faggot, are you still sore?" he sneered. Remembering what his uncles told him about not getting into an altercation, he tried, unsuccessfully, to step around the bigger boy. "Going somewhere?" Barry asked. "Up yours, fucktard." Aiden felt pleased with his insult—it was the kind a big boy would make. Barry grabbed Aiden's shirt. "I can hit you any time I want, queer boy, so keep your mouth shut." Barry let go of Aiden's shirt, worried that a teacher might turn the corner of the hall at any time. But, he was happy with what he said, thinking he'd threatened exactly like Peter would have. As soon as Barry let him go, Aiden saw that the bigger boy had left himself wide open for a punch in the gut. Once again, he heard the voices of his uncles and did nothing. When Miss Clarke, one of the other fourth grade teachers turned the corner into the main corridor, he was happy he'd taken no action. But, he didn't know how long he could continue being good. Aiden had learned to trust his uncles enough to tell them about his run-in with Barry in the hall that morning. "Maybe you should tell Mr. Knox or Mr. Richards about Barry's behavior," Phil said as they sat in the rec room after dinner. "No way do I go ratting on people," Aiden said. "A reasonable sentiment, but sometimes getting adult help before things get out of control is a good idea." "I wanted to punch him in the stomach so bad. I could have too, because he didn't think I would." "You made the right decision." "It was hard. He's a fucktard ass wipe and deserves getting punched." "Like uncle, like nephew," Larry chuckled. "What does that mean?" Aiden asked. "It means that you and I have a lot in common," Phil said. "I had to learn that I couldn't go fighting my way out of problems." "Aiden and I seem to be more alike than Aiden and Keegan are," Phil told Larry in bed that night, referring to Aiden's father. "I would consider that to be a definite plus for our nephew." +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It turned out Aiden didn't have to wait long for the showdown with Barry. While Aiden was able to avoid conflict on Thursday, things came to a head Friday morning at school. Barry and Roger were hanging around in the pick-up area in front of the school. Barry flashed Roger an evil grin when he saw Mason coming up the street. The little fourth grader was burdened by a backpack filled with school and personal items. The two boys walked over to Mason. "Hey, Mason," Barry said with insincere politeness. "How about coming with me and Roger. We need to talk to you." Mason said nothing; he simply nodded and followed the two fifth graders around the corner of the gymnasium. He knew he had no choice in the matter. For Barry this was a better place for his planned meeting with Mason than the ell in the school corridor. He knew it was unlikely a teacher or supervisor would bother them next to the gym. Barry and Roger paid no attention to the school bus pulling into the driveway. Aiden was looking out the window for his friends when he saw Mason following the two fifth graders around the side of the gym. When Barry stopped, he grabbed the thin little boy by his shirt and glared down at him. "Are we still buddies?" he asked. Mason nodded. "Did I punch your homo friend in the game on Monday?" Mason shook his head. "When are you gonna suck my dick?" Mason stood stock still. Barry asked him that question a lot. He didn't know what sucking a dick was about, but he had no doubt it wasn't a good thing. "I wish you wouldn't ask me that," he finally mumbled. "Am I your boss?" Mason gave a slight nod. "Is the queer boy your enemy because he's a faggot?" "He's my friend," Mason squeaked out. He knew his answer would make Barry mad, but he didn't care. Gordon and Miles had been on the sidewalk waiting for Aiden. As soon as Aiden got off the bus he signaled his two friends to follow him. "What's up?" Gordon asked. "I saw Barry and Roger taking Mason around the corner of the gym. I think they're gonna pick on him like they always do." "We should tell Mrs. Vee," Miles said. Mrs. Vee was Emily Vickers, who supervised the halls, cafeteria, and pick-up area, depending on the time of day and her schedule. Aiden ignored him and stormed past the corner of the gym and headed towards the back of the building. Gordon and Miles hurried after him, hoping to stop him. He turned that corner just as Barry pushed Mason hard to the ground. He saw Mason land on his back, his backpack keeping his body off the ground like the shell on a turtle. "You're as big a queer as that fairy Aiden is," Barry snarled as he pushed Mason to the ground. He was all set to kick him when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He knew it wasn't Roger, because Roger was looking down at Mason and laughing. Barry turned around and took a hard punch to his belly. He started to double over, but that didn't stop Aiden from punching him again. Aiden was a small, slightly built boy, although not as small as Mason was. But, unlike Mason, Aiden's wiry frame was strong and he had no qualms when it came to standing up for himself or for his friends. Mrs. Vickers had seen Aiden, Gordon, and Miles disappear around the gym. Sensing trouble, she followed them and turned the corner just as Aiden punched Barry for the second time, sending him to the ground next to Mason. Mason's arms and legs were flailing as he tried to make enough contact with the ground to gain some leverage. "Aiden Miller," Mrs. Vickers yelled, "you stand right over there against the wall. You are in gigantic trouble, young man." She got on her radio and asked for some assistance, and then helped Barry and Mason up. "Aiden didn't do anything," Gordon said. "Barry started it." "And you be quiet, or you'll be in as much trouble as your no-good friend." Barry was rubbing his belly, but seemed to be okay. Mason was sobbing silently, wishing he was somebody else. "Are you okay, Mason?" Mrs. Vickers asked. Mason nodded. The supervisor glanced over at Aiden, and then looked at Mason "I don't know why he went after you, but he is obviously a bully and will be dealt with." "I tried to stop him," Barry managed to wheeze out. He immediately saw his escape route from trouble. Mr. Richards and Mr. Knox arrived on the scene and took charge of the six boys, herding them to the office. On the way, Barry sidled up to Mason. "Remember, it was Aiden that pushed you down," he said. "And it was me who rescued you." Mason said nothing as he unsuccessfully tried to fight back his sobs. Aiden couldn't believe how he had suddenly become the villain. Before he knew it, he was sitting on a chair in Mrs. Finstuen's office. "I knew it would come to this," the principal said. "Your uncles are going to be extremely disappointed in your behavior. It is certainly not the way to ingratiate yourself into a new home—and not the way to convince those two good men that you belong there." It was then that Aiden realized he was doomed. His uncles were going to kick him out of the house and send him back to live with Luke. Aiden quickly changed from rescuing hero to a sobbing little nine-year-old boy. Next: Family