He had found him.
It had taken him a while, but he'd found him.
Driven by his son's inquisitiveness, he had tracked down Oliver. Little Oliver, he discovered, was now working as a tailor in a shop not far from his own.
Would Oliver remember him? Jack pondered this and many other questions in the back of his mind.
"So, what's the plan again, father?" Oliver asked as he, his sister, and their father made their way to the shop.
"You two keep -cough- away from 'im, while I talk to 'im. I'm afraid he may not like seeing -cough- me very much, so be ready to run fer it."
"Daddy, how could someone not like you?" Nancy asked, and she proceeded to skip a little ways in front of them.
Mr. Dawkins smiled. It warmed his heart that his daughter thought so fondly of him, but she didn't know what he was like before, when he'd known Oliver.
They arrived at the small shop, and Jack paused a moment to look at it. He then opened the door and walked inside. Oliver and Nancy quickly shuffled behind a case of fabric. Mr. Dawkins walked up to the counter.
There was a young man sitting on desk, turned away from the counter, apparently working on a coat of some kind.. 'Perfect,' Jack thought, and then cleared his throat.
The man didn't look up, but said. "Hello there, sir! Sorry, I'm a little busy at the moment. What do you need?"
"Yes, I was -cough- just looking for a -cough- Mr. Twist," Mr. Dawkins said, lowering his voice so it wouldn't be recognized.
The young man stopped his work for a moment, and then continued. "Yes…you are speaking with him now."
"Well, I bear a message from a -cough- man you knew once…Mr. Jack Dawkins."
Oliver stopped his work again. He took a deep breath and said, "W-what is the message?"
Mr. Dawkins smiled; this was going better than expected. He then remembered his purpose here, and his spirits dampened. "He can't be here to tell -cough- you himself, but he wishes for you to know…that he apologizes. Though he knows -cough- he can never make up for it, no matter what he does. For -cough- all the trouble he caused, and for -cough- trying to bring you into a life of crime. He knows there is -cough- nothing he can do, but wishes for -cough- you to know his remorse."
The room was silent. Then, Oliver spoke. "He said that?"
"Aye, he did."
Oliver grinned, although Jack didn't see it. "I'd never thought I'd here something like that from him. Against a life of crime…that doesn't sound like him at all." He thought a moment. "But, I can tell you, sir, your message has made my day just a little brighter. He helped me out when no one cared, no matter what his intentions were. I wish he knew how grateful I was. I don't have a place of my own now, in fact. I pay extra to live here, and I can't afford to live anywhere else." He stopped again. "And, you know what?" he asked. "I do miss the old man now and then; he was such a lively boy, and he was kind, most of the time." Oliver sighed. "What I wouldn't give to just see him right now."
Mr. Dawkins was touched. He had never expected this kind of reaction. He then smiled, and spoke, in his own voice.
"Anyway, sir, I've got -cough- this old coat that needs mendin', and this top 'at wiv me that looks as if -cough- it'll fall to pieces any -cough- second."
Oliver's eyes widened. He stood up and turned around, looking at Jack. His eyes grew even wider. Jack smiled, taking off his top hat and holding it in his hands.
"Dodger?" he whispered.
Jack grinned, his eyes watering. "Yep, it's me, mate," he said. Oliver took a few steps forward and, to Jack's surprise, wrapped his arms around him.
"You're alive! And here! And…" Oliver stopped there. Jack was startled a moment, but returned the embrace.
"Yes, I'm aware, -cough- Oliver," he informed him. Oliver stepped away and looked at him.
"You've a cane now? And you keep coughing."
Jack winced. "Yes, I know. I was 'it by a -cough- carriage and struck with pneumonia." He hung his head pathetically, and Oliver laughed.
"Well, I'm just glad to see you here."
Jack stood there, silent a moment, and said, "Did ya say that you -cough- were livin' 'ere? And payin'?"
"Yes."
"Then why don't ya come -cough- live with us?" Jack asked, hoping Oliver would accept.
Oliver looked surprised. "R-really?" he stuttered. "Sure, why…yes! But…us?"
Jack's grin grew wider as he beckoned to the children behind the fabric case. "Oliver, meet my -cough- adopted son and daughter…Oliver and Nancy."