Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this story; they belong to
Thunderbirds and its related companies. I am not making any profit from
the use of these characters in this story.
Note: Set when the Tracy boys were younger, but after the death of their mother.
Title: No Smoke Without Fire
"Come on, kid," one boy taunted. "What's the fuss about?"
"Yeah," another jeered. "You scared or something?"
"It's only a bit of smoke," a third mocked. A fourth just stood frowning, not saying a word.
Virgil looked uneasily at the group of boys who surrounded him. They were all a year older than him, and in John's class at school, making them all bigger than he was.
The four boys were in the music band that took place after school, which Virgil also attended. As well as being exceptional musicians and sports players, they were seen as the group that ruled the school. All the girls wanted to date them, and the other boys wanted to be like them.
Their other extra-curricular activity that was not endorsed by the teachers in the school was smoking. This only added to their appeal, portraying them as tough, resilient individuals. Of course, the teachers did not know about this. They assumed that they were popular solely due to their talents.
It was a Friday afternoon, after band practice, when Virgil was taking the shortcut home and followed by the four youths. They requested for him to stop vocally at first, but when he made no attempt to obey, they used force. He had asked them what they wanted him for, and they just offered him a cigarette. When he refused, the teasing began.
"What do you want with me?" Virgil asked, boldly but uncertainly. He knew of the boys, as everyone did, but he had no idea what they wanted with him, a mere thirteen-year-old.
"Look, kid," the leader of the pack began, draping an arm around Virgil's shoulders. "Recently, we've been watching you. We've seen you play music and sports, and you are at a high standard in both. That's a lot like us." Virgil nodded, taking in this information. "Now, I know you're a year younger than the rest of us, but we've seen the potential in you."
"Potential for what?" Virgil asked calmly.
"You can be one of us," the leader explained, rolling his eyes at the seemingly obvious answer.
"I don't know," Virgil hesitated. "I don't really know you that well," the younger boy admitted to them.
"Oh, forgive me," the boss exclaimed his apology. "Let me introduce you. We have Sam and Shane Everett, the twins, this is Mark Simmons, and I am Tommy Reid," he introduced the members of the gang. "You're Virgil Tracy, am I right?"
"You're right," Virgil replied, ever composed.
"So, Virgil, what do you say? Join us. You can have kids from all over the school look up to you," Tommy told him.
"Even your brothers," Mark added.
Tommy shot a confused look to Mark, and then added, "Scott and John. Your two big brothers."
The chief of the gang took the lead. "Right, I'll bet you'd love them to look up to you, like everyone else looks up to us." He turned to face Virgil and repeated, "Join us."
Virgil considered it. "Can I think this over?"
Tommy smiled. "Sure you can. I'll tell you what, you can have the whole weekend to think it over, and then on Monday, we'll come and find you. But remember," he added. "This is a one-time opportunity. If you say no and then decide later on that you actually like the idea, it will not happen." With that, the four boys left Virgil standing in astonishment. He decided not to make any decision until the weekend was fully over.
The best two days of a teenager's week finally arrived; the weekend. One of Virgil's Saturday-morning rituals was to practice what he needed to improve following band practice the previous afternoon. He settled down and began to go over the pieces that had been played that previous day. When he thought back to the day, he remembered the encounter with Tommy and his gang. As he played, he weighed up the good and bad points of joining the group. He had not been playing for five minutes when John stuck his head into the room.
"Hey, Virgil," he hissed. "Hush that noise, would you? Dad's got a headache." He left as abruptly as he had come in.
Virgil ceased his music, but not without regret. He did not mind being told to stop, as there was a valid reason, but he was annoyed that the music he loved so much could be referred to as 'noise.' It was almost blasphemy to him, especially coming from one of his brothers, who knew how much he loved music.
He spent the next few minutes sitting in front of the sheets of notes, wondering what he could do instead. When he came up with nothing interesting, he wandered into the living room downstairs to see if there was anything good on the television.
After about half an hour of channel hopping, not noticing the two pairs of eyes that kept poking around the door into the room, Scott barged in. "Virgil, would you let Gordon and Alan have the TV? They have been waiting for ages, and you wouldn't let them have it. Try to be a bit fairer in future," Scott lectured as the faces of his two younger brothers poked their tongues out at Virgil behind Scott's back. Alan and Gordon always knew how to get anyone into trouble.
Virgil thought about protesting his innocence, maybe telling Scott that they never once asked, but he decided that it was not worth it, especially with their father having a headache. He chose to spend the rest of his Saturday quietly doing his homework, since he had nothing else to do.
As he worked through the algebraic equations, Virgil's thoughts drifted. So far, his day had been a complete disappointment. His two older brothers had told him off for doing something that he thought was perfectly innocent, and he had been left with the unpleasant company of his maths homework. Perhaps, he hoped, the next day would be better.
Unfortunately for Virgil, the next day was not at all better. If anything, it was worse. All of his homework was out of the way, and the void was filled with troubled thoughts. Usually, when he had troubles, his father was always ready to listen. He made his way to his father's study, and knocked on the door.
"Come," he called, not taking his eyes off of the charts in front of him. Virgil walked into his office and shut the door.
"Can I talk to you, Dad?" Virgil asked quietly.
Jeff looked up. "Erh, not right now, son. I'm sorry; I'm busy with all the work I missed yesterday. Perhaps later?"
Virgil nodded and wordlessly left the room. When he got outside, he leant against the wall and slid down it until he was sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest.
"Dad's never too busy to talk to anyone," he muttered to himself miserably. "Well, almost anyone. He'd talk to Scott or Alan or anyone else, whether he was busy or not. But not me."
Virgil decided that he needed to get out of the house. He was never allowed outside their yard without permission, but today he did not care. He walked right out the front gate and never looked back.
He walked a mile or so into the town, away from the suburban area, and sat by the canal. He saw some three children, about eleven, nine and seven years old, on the other side, all roller-skating. The older two, boy and girl, were trying to teach the youngest girl how to skate, without much luck. When a dog-walker came past, the dog barked and the learning skater was so surprised that she fell flat on her face.
Virgil saw this and chuckled. He wished sometimes that he had a sister as well as his four brothers. It would be a change from the boisterousness of his brothers. Well, she would probably grow to be a tomboy, living with five other boys, but she would probably still possess a caring side, Virgil mused. Maybe a sister would be kind enough to spare a thought or care for him once in a while.
When Virgil got home that evening, cold, tired and hungry, he expected for at least one of his family to yell at him for being out, or at least know that he had been out at all. Instead, no one said anything to him. They just ignored him, treated him as if he were invisible.
He stomped up the stairs and slumped onto his bed. His mind was made up. Tommy had made him think. The weekend had shown him a lot about what his life was like, compared to what it could be. Tomorrow, he would look Tommy straight in his eyes and tell him what he had decided.
The next afternoon, as Virgil walked into the schoolyard with the intention of catching the bus, he was met by Shane and Sam.
"Hey," they greeted friendlily. "Good weekend?"
"Had better," Virgil muttered, not really wanting to remember it. "You?"
"Fine," they both replied at the same time. Virgil smiled at the similarities between the two, from the shape of their noses to their replies in speaking to people. Shane continued, "Tommy and Mark will be here soon. They said for us to meet you."
Virgil nodded. He half-expected to be met after school, as it was the best chance of being able to find someone as they headed out of the gates. They waited patiently as both Tommy and Mark finally strolled out of the school gates.
"Ah, Sam, Shane, you managed to find him," Tommy noted. "Well done. Now, Virgil," he continued. "I trust that you have not yet forgotten our offer from Friday afternoon?"
"I remembered," Virgil told him. It was not every day that the coolest gang in the school came up to you and gave you the chance to be part of them, he thought to himself.
"More to the point, do you have an answer? Will you be in our gang, or will you not?"
Virgil gulped, unsure of what he was doing, looking up to whom was probably the most powerful pupil in his school. Then, he grabbed a handful of confidence that seemed to spark out of nowhere, and said with confidence, "I will."
A satisfied smile swept across the face of Tommy. "A wise choice," he replied. "I wise choice, indeed. You won't regret this, Virgil." Amongst the excitement and adrenaline that flowed through his veins, there was a tiny fraction that doubted wisdom that went into his decision. For the time being, that fraction was forgotten as Virgil felt accepted, for once.
Virgil woke up in higher spirits than he had been in for a long time that next morning. He would go to school with the knowledge that he had real friends there. He had not been blacklisted or shut out by his class, not in the least, but he had never felt like he had a really close group of friends there.
He had been told, the previous night, that he would also go to school knowing that the news of his acceptance into the gang would be around the school by first recess. Virgil believed this, as where gossip was concerned, it went around their school faster than the burning of a petrol- covered rope when a match is thrown to it.
As his family bustled around Virgil and his air of calmness, only noticing when he was being of some kind of nuisance, the third of five child hoped that life at school would be better than at home.
At first recess, Virgil met with Tommy and the twins. Mark had stayed behind to talk to a teacher about some work.
"If you don't mind me asking, Virgil," Tommy began. "What was it that made you decide to join us?"
Virgil thought for a moment about whether he should divulge how he felt about his family. He then remembered that these people were his friends, and friends were trustworthy, right?
He explained how his weekend had gone, and that this was the way that he usually felt anyway. It just took him some time to realise it.
"Middle-child syndrome," Sam and Shane said together.
Virgil had still not grown used to the way that the identical twins answered the same thing at the same time, and shot a sideways glance at Tommy, who shrugged. "They do that all the time. Don't worry, you'll get used to it. Anyway, they're right," he continued. "Mark has the same problem. He's second of three. The oldest and youngest get the attention, treats, trust, and the middle guy gets nothing. It's not healthy, as the middle child is deprived of any attention, and begins to be wayward."
Virgil listened and nodded. He guessed that Mark might have been the one that started smoking, and then the other three followed on. Well, he had not actually seen all of them smoke, but that was what he guessed.
As the four of them sat on a wall at one edge of the playground, they saw groups of children looking at them and whispering. Tommy nudged Virgil and nodded in the direction of one group of kids. "They're talking about you, you know. I told you the news would spread fast."
Virgil nodded, grinning very slightly. It was nice to be noticed for once. He had grown to become a quiet boy, just someone who blended into the background, but this newfound attention had taken him by surprise. He liked it.
A group of girls walked past them at that moment. One girl winked and smiled at Virgil, who smiled back. Tommy noted this. "See that? You're already a hit with the ladies."
Virgil was still looking, and still grinning. Her legs, he thought to himself.
At lunchtime, the gang headed over to the soccer field. "You get to play with the big kids today," Tommy told him. No one younger than fourteen ever played soccer at lunchtime with the older classes, even younger people of an elite standard.
"You're making history today," Mark pointed out. Virgil nodded, still on a cloud of his own. He thought that it might be cloud nine, but he couldn't be sure.
The lines of boys lined up on the field, and two names were drawn from a hat. The two boys stood forward, ready to carry out their first duty as captains and pick their teams.
The two captains were people that Virgil did not know. Virgil decided that he would probably be the last to be picked, as for one thing he was the youngest, and for another he was new and very few people knew him. To his surprise, he was picked early on, before a lot of athletic-looking boys.
He was not the most surprised person on the pitch, though. Two other people beat him to it. When he was picked, he heard two gasps. "Virgil?" Scott could not believe his eyes.
Quickly glancing around he saw both Scott and John standing, staring. Virgil turned his head back and continued walking. Tommy, who was also on Virgil's team, called out, "What's the matter, Scott? Sore because your brother was picked before you?"
Virgil smirked. That would be the icing on the cake for Scott. If there was anything that Scott hated, that was to be shown up in front of people. He could practically see him bubble over with vehemence.
The fun for Virgil was far from over. When the teams had been sorted, he found that he was on the opposing team to both Scott and John. This fired his will to win the match, even though it was only a friendly game. He would play like he was playing in the World Cup.
With the advantage of Tommy, Sam and Shane on his team, plus a few excellent players from Scott's class, Virgil managed to do just that. Acknowledging the small crowd of girls that had formed by the edge of the pitch, Virgil started in an attacking run with the ball, agility wiling his way past two defenders. He crossed the ball and a member of his team headed it into the back of the net.
"Hey, Scott, I never knew your brother was this good at football!" The scorer called across the pitch to a stunned eldest Tracy brother. If anyone had taken the time to work it out, they would have realised that Scott also did not know this.
Virgil managed to score a goal during the game, which both secured him the win and earned him more respect from the other players and the observing girls.
"Virgil, that was brilliant play!" Tommy congratulated as they left the field.
"Excellent!" Sam stated.
"Fantastic!" Shane added.
Mark nodded in agreement as he removed his muddy sports shoes.
Virgil looked around for Scott and John, in the hope that they too might congratulate him. They were nowhere to be seen, which dampen Virgil's high spirits. He tried not to let it get to him. After all, he had his four friends there to praise him. Even so, he still felt slightly disheartened.
After the final school bell tolled, Virgil was about to step onto the bus when Tommy called his name from the sidewall in the playground. Virgil ran over to see why.
"Hey," he panted, slightly out of breath from sprinting.
"Going home so soon?" Mark asked. Virgil could feel a sinister note in his voice. Why didn't he trust Mark?
"Yeah, we wait around a little while longer," Tommy added. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes.
Virgil swallowed. He had not forgotten about the habit of the four members of the group. In fact, it was a very prominent thought in his mind. He had hoped that his joining in the group would magically make them quit the practice. But, of course, nothing was ever magic, especially when it came to something so mature.
Tommy offered one to Virgil, who hesitated. Tommy, Mark and Shane had already lit theirs and were puffing away. Sam just stood, chewing gum.
"Not having one?" Tommy asked Virgil.
"You don't smoke?" Mark asked, eyebrows reaching for the sky. Virgil was faintly away that Mark knew that, but he was making a point of it.
Virgil shook his head timidly, and Mark sneered to himself.
"Hey, it's okay, it's not for everyone," he patronised.
"Lay off the kid," Sam defended, still frowning.
Mark muttered something under his breath and received a glare from both Shane and Sam.
"Look, it's okay, but have you tried it?" Tommy asked. "When my baby brother doesn't eat his vegetables, my mom says, 'but how do you know that you don't like them if you haven't tried them?' See what I'm getting at here?"
Virgil thought that the 'baby' word in that sentence was deliberate, but it worked. He took a cigarette from the packet, took the offered lighter, and started to smoke. He choked a little at first, and then got used to the foul taste.
"Everyone chokes on their first one," Tommy assured him, trying to rid Virgil of his obvious embarrassment.
Virgil relaxed slightly, but still felt disgusting. He felt like he needed to wash all over and then wash again. Whilst he thought about this, he kept smoking the cigarette.
"Takes time to get used to," Shane verified. For once, Sam said nothing to agree with his brother.
Virgil picked up on this, and began to wonder. Why not? His brother did, and those two were joint at the hip. What was the difference? They had the same thought processes, for crying out loud. He just shrugged, and extinguished the stub of the side of the wall like he had been smoking for years.
When Virgil got home, he went straight upstairs and changed his clothes. He put them directly into the washing machine and started it, hoping that no one would notice the sudden helpfulness about the house and begin to ask questions. He knew that his clothes stunk of smoke, and so did his hair. He ran back upstairs and into the bathroom and took one of the most vigorous showers to his knowledge.
When he walked out of the bathroom, Scott was there to corner him. "You've got some questions to answer, kid."
That's the second time in the space of an afternoon that I've been called 'kid,' Virgil thought to himself. "Like what?"
"Like how did you, a mere thirteen-year-old, make it onto the big guys soccer pitch today?"
"I was given the offer, and I accepted," Virgil replied simply.
"Who gave you the offer?"
"What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?"
"Nope, the Tracy Brothers Inquisition," Scott replied. "Answer the question!"
"Hey! One, I don't have to. And two, don't yell at me!"
"You're yelling!"
"No I'm not!"
"I will be soon, if you both don't quieten down," Jeff stepped in. He had been working downstairs in his study before he was disturbed by the noise and had come upstairs to investigate. "What's this about?"
Virgil kept tight-lipped, unlike Scott. "He played in the big kids soccer game today," he blurted out.
"Was he asked to?" Jeff asked.
"Apparently so, but he won't tell me who," Scott reported.
Jeff looked at Virgil. "Anyone in particular? Anyone I should know about?"
"Just some people I know from my band class," Virgil said casually.
Jeff turned back to Scott. "What's to worry about?"
He was walking back along the landing to his study when he heard Scott ask, "So why didn't you catch the bus home from school today?"
Jeff did a 180-degree turn on his heels and marched back to where the two brothers stood. "Did I hear that right?"
"He wasn't on the bus home from school today," Scott confirmed.
Jeff glanced at Virgil, awaiting an answer. "I stayed behind to help the teacher tidy up, because it was mine and Jamie's turns today, and we took so long that we missed the bus back home."
"How did you get back home? Did you walk?" Having one of his sons walk four miles home from school, particularly one of the youngest of his sons, was not one of Jeff Tracy's favourite things.
"Jamie's mother gave me a lift. I thanked her," Virgil added, knowing that this would be the next question on his father's list.
Jeff nodded with approval. "Good boy," he murmured, heading back to his study.
When his father was out of earshot, Scott turned back to Virgil. He thought about saying something, but decided against it. He walked into his bedroom and almost slammed the door shut.
Virgil knew that he had been lucky to get away with that. The lies just seemed to roll off of his tongue. Over the next few weeks, they continued to roll.
"Why are you late again?" They would ask.
"Extra band practice," he would answer.
"Why change your clothes as soon as you get home?"
"They get dirty, and I wouldn't want them to mess up the house."
"Why do you keep coughing?"
"I've got a bit of a cold."
"Why do you smell of smoke?"
"Some of my teachers smoke," Virgil replied for what felt like the fiftieth time. That one was getting harder and harder to cover up.
The day after he tried the cigarette, he vowed that he would never touch one again. But, he was pressured. They were offered, along with the dominating looks, and he accepted. He just could not stop.
He never bought any cigarettes, since he did not look old enough. One Friday afternoon, after band practice, Tommy took Virgil to one side.
"Here," he said, closing two objects into Virgil's hand. "To keep you going over the weekend." With that, he walked away.
When Virgil dared open his hand, he saw that he had been given a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. He trembled with the realisation. This was power. He had been handed his own supply.
He hid them deep inside his bag, in a small tear in the lining so that no one could find them. Virgil then walked home, like he had done for the past week. Since the encounter with Scott outside the bathroom, no one had noticed his belatedly arrival home after school, and they had been asking less questions.
Later that evening, when most of the household were asleep, Virgil snuck out of his bed with his rucksack. He climbed out of his bedroom window, careful not to wake John, and crawled onto the roof of his house. He found the gently sloped part of the roof and knelt on it. He fumbled for the packet of cigarettes and lighter. The adrenaline was running through him, partly through fear, partly through excitement, and partly through the need to have a cigarette.
Once he began to smoke, he relaxed and settled back. He turned towards the setting June sun. The yellow and orange rays splashed across the darkening sky, giving every object in its path its own shadow. The evening sun flecked through the leaves of the silver birch tree in the front garden and created a sheet of dappled light covering it.
Virgil smiled at the natural, innocent sight in front of him, and then glanced back to the cigarette. The small, round tube filled with goodness knows what, and he was breathing it all in. Yet, at that time, it did not seem to bother him. He took another puff of it and relaxed.
That Sunday evening, Virgil was sitting in his and John's room and finishing his homework when there came a quiet knock on the door. "Come in," he called, shutting his book.
Jeff walked into the room and took a moment to glance in disgust at the mess. Knowing that that was not his main concern, he ignored it and walked over to where Virgil sat.
"You want something, Dad?" Virgil asked.
Jeff smiled slightly and shook his head. "Just a chat, if you're not too busy."
"No, no, I've done my homework," Virgil replied. He wondered if someone had found out about his smoking, and told Jeff. He dismissed the idea, because if that were the case, Jeff would be looking far from the genial figure that stood before him.
Jeff sat on the bed. "We haven't talking lately. How's school going?"
"Fine," he replied. Why was his father taking time to talk to him? What had he done?
"Good, good. Nice to see you're getting along okay. You know, if you have any problems, you can always talk to me."
I tried that about this time last week, Virgil thought to himself. "Sure, Dad."
Jeff stood up. "Good. Well, good night, son." He walked towards the door.
"Night, Dad." The door closed with a click.
Well, Virgil thought to himself. He could not remember the last time his father had tried to have a heart-to-heart talk with him. Scott, many times. Scott, being the eldest, had much more in common with his father. John too, because of the shared love of astronomy. Both Gordon and Alan could talk to Dad anytime, because they were the two youngest. Virgil was stuck in the middle. He was not a lot like his father, except maybe in some features. He was like his mother, who was no longer able to help him.
Virgil waited patiently by the wall after school, where he was due to meet his four friends. When he heard the noise of feet coming from behind him, he turned around and automatically assumed that it was them. He was startled to find that, instead of four cheerful boys, it was actually an angry-looking brother in the form of John who was storming towards him.
"I don't know why I never saw it before." the blonde-haired teen muttered to himself. He directed no speech towards Virgil, but just pulled him by the arm and dragged him away.
"Hey, what's the deal?" Virgil protested.
"Quiet," John muttered, apparently enraged. Virgil knew better than to argue with an angry Tracy.
He dragged Virgil back into school and into an empty classroom. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING?!" he almost screamed.
"Excuse me?" Virgil asked once he had recovered from the shock of John raising his voice.
"I should have seen it, I should have put two and two together," the older Tracy boy muttered to himself again. "I even heard a few people saying it but it never registered."
"What are you talking about?" Virgil asked, not really sure whether he wanted to know or not.
"You're hanging around with Tommy Reid and his gang!" John blurted out.
Oh, so you noticed, Virgil thought to himself. "And?"
"And? And?! They are a year older than you, for one thing," John said.
"What's age got to do with it?"
"And for another, they smoke," John told him. He swallowed. "And I know that you do, too."
Virgil frowned. How did he find out?
"So, its true?" John asked. Virgil's silence said it all.
John lowered his head gravely. "Why, Virgil? Why?"
Virgil felt that John was talking to him like some distant schoolteacher would. "What do you care, anyway?"
That hurt John. "Of course I care! I care what happens to you. You're my bro, remember?"
Virgil smiled slightly. If it were anyone else talking to him right now, then Virgil would have blown his fuse and left the building by then. But, it was John. John had a calming, reassuring air about him. Even if he yelled like he had just done, Virgil knew that he still loved him and that he was always there for him.
"Are you going to tell Dad?" Virgil asked in a meek voice.
John thought about this. "If you promise to quit smoking, as of now, then I won't tell anyone. But, if I catch you smoking, you are going to be in a pile of trouble bigger than the pile of dirty socks under Gordon's bed."
Virgil chuckled as John continued. "I guess there's no harm in you still being friends with Tommy, as long as you keep that deal, okay?"
"Deal," Virgil replied.
The next day, Scott had his eyes on two particularly attractive girls who sat at the desk diagonally in front of him in his math class. Whilst he had his eyes on them, he also had his ears tuned in to their hushed conversation.
"I think he's fine," one girl began. "Especially when he plays soccer"
"Yeah, he could tackle me any day," the other girl replied, giggling.
Scott listened to this. He played football. Could it be.?
"I love the dark-haired guys," the first girl said.
"His smile," the other girl drifted off.
Scott unconsciously ran a hand through his chocolate-brown locks, and flashed a sparkling grin.
"I know he's two years younger than us," the first girl began. "But he's still nice!"
Scott's fantasy with the two girls skidded to a halt. Two years younger? Who could the lucky junior be? He listened intently for any answers.
"And if he hangs around with Tommy Reid, and Sam, Shane and Mark, then he's bound to be hot!"
Oh, Scott thought to himself. The gang has another member. He hoped that a name would come up.
"I love guys with unusual names. I mean, who else do you know who is called Virgil?"
Scott almost fell off his seat with astonishment. Virgil? As in his brother, Virgil Tracy? No, surely not. But then, who else did he know with that name, in the school?
Then it clicked. Virgil was hanging around with Tommy Reid's gang? So, that's how he got into the football game. And that must mean.
No way. Not Virgil. He had more sense than to smoke, right? Come to think of it, Scott thought to himself, he had smelt more smoke around the house than usual. Interrogation at recess, he decided.
Virgil was one of the first onto the soccer field that day, since his teacher, due to having a headache, had decided to dismiss the class early.
As the thirteen-year-old walked towards the field, he saw that Sam was there already. He was about to call and greet him when he saw the reason to the question of why Sam did not smoke. He mentally kicked himself for not realising it before. Sam was taking a breath from an asthma inhaler.
Virgil thought that Sam probably did not want people to know about his illness. He saw no reason for Sam to be embarrassed or ashamed, but he decided not to say anything. If Sam did not want to talk about it, then that was his wish, and it would be kept that way. At least now, Virgil thought to himself, I know why he does not smoke.
"Virgil!" Scott called before the usual lunchtime soccer match started. By that time, a few other people had arrived, John included. The two brothers were putting their soccer boots on.
"Virgil, I want a word with you." Scott had marched over and was standing high over his younger brother. "You've been hanging around with Tommy Reid's lot, haven't you?"
"So?" Virgil asked, sending a sideways glance to John.
"You've been smoking, haven't you?" Scott was only bluffing, but as he both feared and hoped, it work. Not only did he find the truth, he found that more people knew than he had thought.
"John!" Virgil ignored Scott and turned to his blonde-haired brother. "You made a deal. I'd stop smoking if you'd keep your mouth shut."
"Virgil, I."
"Save it. You broke your part of the deal, so I break mine!" With that, he sprinted onto the pitch, intercepting the ball and firing it into the back of the net.
Scott turned to John. "You knew? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
Calmly, John replied, "Sometimes, threatening kids doesn't work. I made a deal with him. If I kept my mouth shut, he'd stopped smoking. I kept a check on him, you know, and he kept his part of the deal. Now that you've gone off your head at him, he'll forget that deal and start again."
Scott looked at him coldly. "You should have known better than to keep it to yourself. As soon as I get home, Dad is going to know about this."
That will not help anything, John thought to himself, shaking his head. Still, there was no use in telling Scott that. Scott and Jeff shared the stubborn streak, and there was no use in trying to change either of their minds.
"VIRGIL!"
The boy in question had been expecting it all afternoon. As soon as Scott knew anything, so did Jeff, especially when it was as serious as this matter seemed to be.
Virgil walked calmly into his father's study. There, Jeff sat, looking very far from pleased. He had the same stony look on his face that he had worn when his wife had died.
There was no point in Virgil pleading innocence, as it was far too late for anything like that.
"When did it start, Virgil?" He was straight to the point, as usual. There was no wasting any time dancing around the subject with Jeff.
"A week or two ago," Virgil replied coolly.
At the sound of no hint of apology from his son, Jeff became angry. "Don't you know the dangers? The diseases, the cancers? You'll be coughing and choking through the rest of your life."
Virgil had put some thought to them, but he had just shrugged it off, which he visually showed to his father.
"And what about the fact that it is illegal at your age? You know that, everybody knows that. Do you know the trouble you could get into?"
Sensing that after yet another non-answer Jeff was getting nowhere fast, he asked the main question; the one had been on the tip of his tongue since he had found out about the subject in discussion.
"Why, Virgil? Why start smoking?"
Virgil turned away. Why should he tell him his problems when he had never listened in the past? But then, he had nothing to lose. He decided to go for it.
"What's to stop me? What will I miss if I did die from all these diseases? I'm never going to amount to anything, and no one will miss me. Not around here, anyway."
Virgil was in full flow now. He thought that being treated the way he was by his family was not getting to him, but now he realised how much it was. "Scott's the apple of your eye, being the eldest. John is not far off, since you two share your passion for astronomy. Gordon and Alan get treated well, too, since they're the youngest. No one even knows I exist around this place until I do anything wrong. So why should it bother anyone who I hang around with, or what I do with my spare time?"
Jeff was stunned at Virgil's outburst. The unfortunate reality was that it was true. Virgil, being the middle child, tended to be forgotten, but Jeff did not realise to what extend.
"Virgil, I'm sorry," was all he could say. "I'm sorry that this happened. If I had have taken some notice of you. all of this could have been prevented. I promise that you will never have to feel that way again." Jeff let a moment pass before he asked, "Do you think you could give up smoking?"
Yes was the obvious answer for Virgil. He was hardly going to tell his father that he would continue. Still, he was undecided and unconvinced as to whether it would really happen, whether his father and family would really start to take some notice of him, or whether they were all empty promises. He left the study still wondering.
It was after band practice the next day, Friday, when Virgil told the gang about what had happened. They were walking home along the canal route that the group usually took. "Tough break, kid," Tommy sympathised when Virgil told him about the incident. "Did he ask you not to smoke?"
Virgil shrugged. He acted like he did not care about the whole thing, but really he was in two minds about it.
"This is our stop," Tommy reminded them as he reached his and the twins' road. "See you on Monday!" Tommy called as he left Virgil with Mark.
Once the three other boys were safely out of sight, Mark turned to Virgil, with a menacing look on his face.
"Do you realise what you have done, you stupid kid?"
The venom in Mark's voice caused Virgil to inwardly tremble. What was happening?
"Now that your father knows, he'll tell the school, and the school will tell our parents. Do you realise what my father will say? He'll go mad! Crazy!"
Virgil tried to edge away as Mark advanced on him. "You'll pay for your carelessness." Suddenly, Mark swung his fist powerfully and struck Virgil above his left eye.
Virgil staggered back, caught unawares by the physical outburst. He was punched again, almost immediately, and was sent tumbling to the ground. Mark kicked Virgil repeatedly in the chest, bruising his ribs badly. Satisfied, the boy left hurriedly, not wanting anyone to know of his crime.
Jeff kept his word. He promised to take notice of Virgil, and began to worry when he did not arrive for his dinner.
"We've looked all over the house, but there's no sign of him anyway," Gordon replied.
"Scott and I will go out and look for him," John suggested, receiving a sidelong glance from his older brother.
"Yes, good idea," Jeff replied. He had hoped that after his talk with him the previous night would stop his son from getting into further trouble. Unfortunately, things did not look that way.
"Mom?" Virgil felt as though he was floating on air. He had turned around and had seen his mother, floating beside him. Virgil blinked, not quite believing it.
"Virgil, your brothers love you. Your father loves you," she told him serenely.
"I love you, mom. I want to be with you!"
She shook her head, looking regretful. "No you don't, Virgil. Please stop smoking, for me." She disappeared as Virgil resided into a black and numb feeling.
"Why are we doing this again?" Scott asked yet another time.
"Because Virgil is our younger brother, and it is our job to look out for him, no matter how much you don't want to," John replied coolly. He did not like Scott's attitude towards his younger siblings, Virgil in particular. John knew that on the inside, Scott loved all of his family dearly, but he was just at that age where he had other things to be concerned about.
"Is this the right way?" Scott asked, changing the subject.
"He usually comes home this way," John replied. They were walking along the canal bank when they saw a sight that made them worry.
"His bag," John replied, running over to it. When he reached up, he saw a sight that frightened him even more. Down the bank was Virgil, inches away from the rushing water of the canal. John ran down to him, with Scott closely behind him.
"He's okay, right?" Scott asked, crouching down beside John.
"He's in a bad way, but nothing that won't fix," John replied. Virgil was beginning to stir. "Hey, easy," John soothed his younger brother.
"Wha.?" Virgil asked groggily. "How'd you get here?"
"We thought we'd look for you, since we know how much you hate to miss your dinner," John replied, grinning ever so slightly.
"What happened, Virgil?" Scott asked seriously.
"It was Mark. He was angry when I said that Dad found out about the smoking thing," Virgil replied, sitting up slightly.
"He did this to you? I'll kill him," Scott muttered. An interesting way to show you care, but a way at least, John thought to himself.
"Think you are up to walking home? Or shall we call Dad and get him to pick us up?" John asked.
"I'll be fine," Virgil assured them. Slowly, the three walked home. Virgil decided not to tell anyone about his mother. They would think he had gone mad, or think that it was all a dream from the bump on his head. In any case, they would never believe him.
One thing was for sure; he would stop smoking. If his mother wanted it, then he would grant her wish.
"How do you feel, son?" Jeff asked Virgil, who was lying sprawled on the sofa, watching the TV. Jeff had warned his other four sons that there would be trouble if Virgil was disturbed.
"Better today, thanks," Virgil replied.
"Good," Jeff replied, still looking troubled.
"Dad, it's not your fault," Virgil told him, reading his mind. "I thought that Mark was bad news from the start. It was just unlucky that I was in the wrong place with the wrong person."
Jeff nodded. "I'll call the school about him."
Panic sprung to Virgil's eyes, and Jeff tried to rid his son of it. "This whole sorry business will be sorted out, you'll see."
Virgil hoped that his father was right.
Virgil returned to school the following Wednesday, with the knowledge that both Scott and John would be around to keep an eye on him. Tommy, Shane and Sam were there to meet him in the morning.
"Hey, Virgil," Tommy greeted. "We heard what happened to you."
"Mark's bad news," Shane told him.
"The worst," Sam added.
"He got expelled for bullying, and for smoking," Tommy said. "Your father must have told him about us, too."
"What?" Virgil was outraged. He liked these three people. Surely they would not be expelled, too?
"It's okay," Shane said.
"Yeah, really," Sam put in.
"We got suspended for two days, but we're the good guys! We've stopped smoking, for good. It's not cool to die, you know." Virgil wished they had realised that earlier.
"It was Mark that persuaded us in the first place," Shane told him.
"I think the girls love us even more now," Sam winked at Virgil.
"Come on, I think that group of girls over there have a problem," Tommy pointed to the assembly who were chatting earnestly about something. "Shall we help?"
The three followed, laughing. In the distance, John and Scott watched.
"He takes after me, you know," Scott said. "Knows how to handle women."
John rolled his eyes. "Thank God he hasn't got a head the size of yours." He received a light punch on the shoulder for his comment, but grinned all the same.
The End
A/N: I hope you like this (even with the cheesy ending.) Please review! Luv ya all!
Note: Set when the Tracy boys were younger, but after the death of their mother.
Title: No Smoke Without Fire
"Come on, kid," one boy taunted. "What's the fuss about?"
"Yeah," another jeered. "You scared or something?"
"It's only a bit of smoke," a third mocked. A fourth just stood frowning, not saying a word.
Virgil looked uneasily at the group of boys who surrounded him. They were all a year older than him, and in John's class at school, making them all bigger than he was.
The four boys were in the music band that took place after school, which Virgil also attended. As well as being exceptional musicians and sports players, they were seen as the group that ruled the school. All the girls wanted to date them, and the other boys wanted to be like them.
Their other extra-curricular activity that was not endorsed by the teachers in the school was smoking. This only added to their appeal, portraying them as tough, resilient individuals. Of course, the teachers did not know about this. They assumed that they were popular solely due to their talents.
It was a Friday afternoon, after band practice, when Virgil was taking the shortcut home and followed by the four youths. They requested for him to stop vocally at first, but when he made no attempt to obey, they used force. He had asked them what they wanted him for, and they just offered him a cigarette. When he refused, the teasing began.
"What do you want with me?" Virgil asked, boldly but uncertainly. He knew of the boys, as everyone did, but he had no idea what they wanted with him, a mere thirteen-year-old.
"Look, kid," the leader of the pack began, draping an arm around Virgil's shoulders. "Recently, we've been watching you. We've seen you play music and sports, and you are at a high standard in both. That's a lot like us." Virgil nodded, taking in this information. "Now, I know you're a year younger than the rest of us, but we've seen the potential in you."
"Potential for what?" Virgil asked calmly.
"You can be one of us," the leader explained, rolling his eyes at the seemingly obvious answer.
"I don't know," Virgil hesitated. "I don't really know you that well," the younger boy admitted to them.
"Oh, forgive me," the boss exclaimed his apology. "Let me introduce you. We have Sam and Shane Everett, the twins, this is Mark Simmons, and I am Tommy Reid," he introduced the members of the gang. "You're Virgil Tracy, am I right?"
"You're right," Virgil replied, ever composed.
"So, Virgil, what do you say? Join us. You can have kids from all over the school look up to you," Tommy told him.
"Even your brothers," Mark added.
Tommy shot a confused look to Mark, and then added, "Scott and John. Your two big brothers."
The chief of the gang took the lead. "Right, I'll bet you'd love them to look up to you, like everyone else looks up to us." He turned to face Virgil and repeated, "Join us."
Virgil considered it. "Can I think this over?"
Tommy smiled. "Sure you can. I'll tell you what, you can have the whole weekend to think it over, and then on Monday, we'll come and find you. But remember," he added. "This is a one-time opportunity. If you say no and then decide later on that you actually like the idea, it will not happen." With that, the four boys left Virgil standing in astonishment. He decided not to make any decision until the weekend was fully over.
The best two days of a teenager's week finally arrived; the weekend. One of Virgil's Saturday-morning rituals was to practice what he needed to improve following band practice the previous afternoon. He settled down and began to go over the pieces that had been played that previous day. When he thought back to the day, he remembered the encounter with Tommy and his gang. As he played, he weighed up the good and bad points of joining the group. He had not been playing for five minutes when John stuck his head into the room.
"Hey, Virgil," he hissed. "Hush that noise, would you? Dad's got a headache." He left as abruptly as he had come in.
Virgil ceased his music, but not without regret. He did not mind being told to stop, as there was a valid reason, but he was annoyed that the music he loved so much could be referred to as 'noise.' It was almost blasphemy to him, especially coming from one of his brothers, who knew how much he loved music.
He spent the next few minutes sitting in front of the sheets of notes, wondering what he could do instead. When he came up with nothing interesting, he wandered into the living room downstairs to see if there was anything good on the television.
After about half an hour of channel hopping, not noticing the two pairs of eyes that kept poking around the door into the room, Scott barged in. "Virgil, would you let Gordon and Alan have the TV? They have been waiting for ages, and you wouldn't let them have it. Try to be a bit fairer in future," Scott lectured as the faces of his two younger brothers poked their tongues out at Virgil behind Scott's back. Alan and Gordon always knew how to get anyone into trouble.
Virgil thought about protesting his innocence, maybe telling Scott that they never once asked, but he decided that it was not worth it, especially with their father having a headache. He chose to spend the rest of his Saturday quietly doing his homework, since he had nothing else to do.
As he worked through the algebraic equations, Virgil's thoughts drifted. So far, his day had been a complete disappointment. His two older brothers had told him off for doing something that he thought was perfectly innocent, and he had been left with the unpleasant company of his maths homework. Perhaps, he hoped, the next day would be better.
Unfortunately for Virgil, the next day was not at all better. If anything, it was worse. All of his homework was out of the way, and the void was filled with troubled thoughts. Usually, when he had troubles, his father was always ready to listen. He made his way to his father's study, and knocked on the door.
"Come," he called, not taking his eyes off of the charts in front of him. Virgil walked into his office and shut the door.
"Can I talk to you, Dad?" Virgil asked quietly.
Jeff looked up. "Erh, not right now, son. I'm sorry; I'm busy with all the work I missed yesterday. Perhaps later?"
Virgil nodded and wordlessly left the room. When he got outside, he leant against the wall and slid down it until he was sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest.
"Dad's never too busy to talk to anyone," he muttered to himself miserably. "Well, almost anyone. He'd talk to Scott or Alan or anyone else, whether he was busy or not. But not me."
Virgil decided that he needed to get out of the house. He was never allowed outside their yard without permission, but today he did not care. He walked right out the front gate and never looked back.
He walked a mile or so into the town, away from the suburban area, and sat by the canal. He saw some three children, about eleven, nine and seven years old, on the other side, all roller-skating. The older two, boy and girl, were trying to teach the youngest girl how to skate, without much luck. When a dog-walker came past, the dog barked and the learning skater was so surprised that she fell flat on her face.
Virgil saw this and chuckled. He wished sometimes that he had a sister as well as his four brothers. It would be a change from the boisterousness of his brothers. Well, she would probably grow to be a tomboy, living with five other boys, but she would probably still possess a caring side, Virgil mused. Maybe a sister would be kind enough to spare a thought or care for him once in a while.
When Virgil got home that evening, cold, tired and hungry, he expected for at least one of his family to yell at him for being out, or at least know that he had been out at all. Instead, no one said anything to him. They just ignored him, treated him as if he were invisible.
He stomped up the stairs and slumped onto his bed. His mind was made up. Tommy had made him think. The weekend had shown him a lot about what his life was like, compared to what it could be. Tomorrow, he would look Tommy straight in his eyes and tell him what he had decided.
The next afternoon, as Virgil walked into the schoolyard with the intention of catching the bus, he was met by Shane and Sam.
"Hey," they greeted friendlily. "Good weekend?"
"Had better," Virgil muttered, not really wanting to remember it. "You?"
"Fine," they both replied at the same time. Virgil smiled at the similarities between the two, from the shape of their noses to their replies in speaking to people. Shane continued, "Tommy and Mark will be here soon. They said for us to meet you."
Virgil nodded. He half-expected to be met after school, as it was the best chance of being able to find someone as they headed out of the gates. They waited patiently as both Tommy and Mark finally strolled out of the school gates.
"Ah, Sam, Shane, you managed to find him," Tommy noted. "Well done. Now, Virgil," he continued. "I trust that you have not yet forgotten our offer from Friday afternoon?"
"I remembered," Virgil told him. It was not every day that the coolest gang in the school came up to you and gave you the chance to be part of them, he thought to himself.
"More to the point, do you have an answer? Will you be in our gang, or will you not?"
Virgil gulped, unsure of what he was doing, looking up to whom was probably the most powerful pupil in his school. Then, he grabbed a handful of confidence that seemed to spark out of nowhere, and said with confidence, "I will."
A satisfied smile swept across the face of Tommy. "A wise choice," he replied. "I wise choice, indeed. You won't regret this, Virgil." Amongst the excitement and adrenaline that flowed through his veins, there was a tiny fraction that doubted wisdom that went into his decision. For the time being, that fraction was forgotten as Virgil felt accepted, for once.
Virgil woke up in higher spirits than he had been in for a long time that next morning. He would go to school with the knowledge that he had real friends there. He had not been blacklisted or shut out by his class, not in the least, but he had never felt like he had a really close group of friends there.
He had been told, the previous night, that he would also go to school knowing that the news of his acceptance into the gang would be around the school by first recess. Virgil believed this, as where gossip was concerned, it went around their school faster than the burning of a petrol- covered rope when a match is thrown to it.
As his family bustled around Virgil and his air of calmness, only noticing when he was being of some kind of nuisance, the third of five child hoped that life at school would be better than at home.
At first recess, Virgil met with Tommy and the twins. Mark had stayed behind to talk to a teacher about some work.
"If you don't mind me asking, Virgil," Tommy began. "What was it that made you decide to join us?"
Virgil thought for a moment about whether he should divulge how he felt about his family. He then remembered that these people were his friends, and friends were trustworthy, right?
He explained how his weekend had gone, and that this was the way that he usually felt anyway. It just took him some time to realise it.
"Middle-child syndrome," Sam and Shane said together.
Virgil had still not grown used to the way that the identical twins answered the same thing at the same time, and shot a sideways glance at Tommy, who shrugged. "They do that all the time. Don't worry, you'll get used to it. Anyway, they're right," he continued. "Mark has the same problem. He's second of three. The oldest and youngest get the attention, treats, trust, and the middle guy gets nothing. It's not healthy, as the middle child is deprived of any attention, and begins to be wayward."
Virgil listened and nodded. He guessed that Mark might have been the one that started smoking, and then the other three followed on. Well, he had not actually seen all of them smoke, but that was what he guessed.
As the four of them sat on a wall at one edge of the playground, they saw groups of children looking at them and whispering. Tommy nudged Virgil and nodded in the direction of one group of kids. "They're talking about you, you know. I told you the news would spread fast."
Virgil nodded, grinning very slightly. It was nice to be noticed for once. He had grown to become a quiet boy, just someone who blended into the background, but this newfound attention had taken him by surprise. He liked it.
A group of girls walked past them at that moment. One girl winked and smiled at Virgil, who smiled back. Tommy noted this. "See that? You're already a hit with the ladies."
Virgil was still looking, and still grinning. Her legs, he thought to himself.
At lunchtime, the gang headed over to the soccer field. "You get to play with the big kids today," Tommy told him. No one younger than fourteen ever played soccer at lunchtime with the older classes, even younger people of an elite standard.
"You're making history today," Mark pointed out. Virgil nodded, still on a cloud of his own. He thought that it might be cloud nine, but he couldn't be sure.
The lines of boys lined up on the field, and two names were drawn from a hat. The two boys stood forward, ready to carry out their first duty as captains and pick their teams.
The two captains were people that Virgil did not know. Virgil decided that he would probably be the last to be picked, as for one thing he was the youngest, and for another he was new and very few people knew him. To his surprise, he was picked early on, before a lot of athletic-looking boys.
He was not the most surprised person on the pitch, though. Two other people beat him to it. When he was picked, he heard two gasps. "Virgil?" Scott could not believe his eyes.
Quickly glancing around he saw both Scott and John standing, staring. Virgil turned his head back and continued walking. Tommy, who was also on Virgil's team, called out, "What's the matter, Scott? Sore because your brother was picked before you?"
Virgil smirked. That would be the icing on the cake for Scott. If there was anything that Scott hated, that was to be shown up in front of people. He could practically see him bubble over with vehemence.
The fun for Virgil was far from over. When the teams had been sorted, he found that he was on the opposing team to both Scott and John. This fired his will to win the match, even though it was only a friendly game. He would play like he was playing in the World Cup.
With the advantage of Tommy, Sam and Shane on his team, plus a few excellent players from Scott's class, Virgil managed to do just that. Acknowledging the small crowd of girls that had formed by the edge of the pitch, Virgil started in an attacking run with the ball, agility wiling his way past two defenders. He crossed the ball and a member of his team headed it into the back of the net.
"Hey, Scott, I never knew your brother was this good at football!" The scorer called across the pitch to a stunned eldest Tracy brother. If anyone had taken the time to work it out, they would have realised that Scott also did not know this.
Virgil managed to score a goal during the game, which both secured him the win and earned him more respect from the other players and the observing girls.
"Virgil, that was brilliant play!" Tommy congratulated as they left the field.
"Excellent!" Sam stated.
"Fantastic!" Shane added.
Mark nodded in agreement as he removed his muddy sports shoes.
Virgil looked around for Scott and John, in the hope that they too might congratulate him. They were nowhere to be seen, which dampen Virgil's high spirits. He tried not to let it get to him. After all, he had his four friends there to praise him. Even so, he still felt slightly disheartened.
After the final school bell tolled, Virgil was about to step onto the bus when Tommy called his name from the sidewall in the playground. Virgil ran over to see why.
"Hey," he panted, slightly out of breath from sprinting.
"Going home so soon?" Mark asked. Virgil could feel a sinister note in his voice. Why didn't he trust Mark?
"Yeah, we wait around a little while longer," Tommy added. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes.
Virgil swallowed. He had not forgotten about the habit of the four members of the group. In fact, it was a very prominent thought in his mind. He had hoped that his joining in the group would magically make them quit the practice. But, of course, nothing was ever magic, especially when it came to something so mature.
Tommy offered one to Virgil, who hesitated. Tommy, Mark and Shane had already lit theirs and were puffing away. Sam just stood, chewing gum.
"Not having one?" Tommy asked Virgil.
"You don't smoke?" Mark asked, eyebrows reaching for the sky. Virgil was faintly away that Mark knew that, but he was making a point of it.
Virgil shook his head timidly, and Mark sneered to himself.
"Hey, it's okay, it's not for everyone," he patronised.
"Lay off the kid," Sam defended, still frowning.
Mark muttered something under his breath and received a glare from both Shane and Sam.
"Look, it's okay, but have you tried it?" Tommy asked. "When my baby brother doesn't eat his vegetables, my mom says, 'but how do you know that you don't like them if you haven't tried them?' See what I'm getting at here?"
Virgil thought that the 'baby' word in that sentence was deliberate, but it worked. He took a cigarette from the packet, took the offered lighter, and started to smoke. He choked a little at first, and then got used to the foul taste.
"Everyone chokes on their first one," Tommy assured him, trying to rid Virgil of his obvious embarrassment.
Virgil relaxed slightly, but still felt disgusting. He felt like he needed to wash all over and then wash again. Whilst he thought about this, he kept smoking the cigarette.
"Takes time to get used to," Shane verified. For once, Sam said nothing to agree with his brother.
Virgil picked up on this, and began to wonder. Why not? His brother did, and those two were joint at the hip. What was the difference? They had the same thought processes, for crying out loud. He just shrugged, and extinguished the stub of the side of the wall like he had been smoking for years.
When Virgil got home, he went straight upstairs and changed his clothes. He put them directly into the washing machine and started it, hoping that no one would notice the sudden helpfulness about the house and begin to ask questions. He knew that his clothes stunk of smoke, and so did his hair. He ran back upstairs and into the bathroom and took one of the most vigorous showers to his knowledge.
When he walked out of the bathroom, Scott was there to corner him. "You've got some questions to answer, kid."
That's the second time in the space of an afternoon that I've been called 'kid,' Virgil thought to himself. "Like what?"
"Like how did you, a mere thirteen-year-old, make it onto the big guys soccer pitch today?"
"I was given the offer, and I accepted," Virgil replied simply.
"Who gave you the offer?"
"What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?"
"Nope, the Tracy Brothers Inquisition," Scott replied. "Answer the question!"
"Hey! One, I don't have to. And two, don't yell at me!"
"You're yelling!"
"No I'm not!"
"I will be soon, if you both don't quieten down," Jeff stepped in. He had been working downstairs in his study before he was disturbed by the noise and had come upstairs to investigate. "What's this about?"
Virgil kept tight-lipped, unlike Scott. "He played in the big kids soccer game today," he blurted out.
"Was he asked to?" Jeff asked.
"Apparently so, but he won't tell me who," Scott reported.
Jeff looked at Virgil. "Anyone in particular? Anyone I should know about?"
"Just some people I know from my band class," Virgil said casually.
Jeff turned back to Scott. "What's to worry about?"
He was walking back along the landing to his study when he heard Scott ask, "So why didn't you catch the bus home from school today?"
Jeff did a 180-degree turn on his heels and marched back to where the two brothers stood. "Did I hear that right?"
"He wasn't on the bus home from school today," Scott confirmed.
Jeff glanced at Virgil, awaiting an answer. "I stayed behind to help the teacher tidy up, because it was mine and Jamie's turns today, and we took so long that we missed the bus back home."
"How did you get back home? Did you walk?" Having one of his sons walk four miles home from school, particularly one of the youngest of his sons, was not one of Jeff Tracy's favourite things.
"Jamie's mother gave me a lift. I thanked her," Virgil added, knowing that this would be the next question on his father's list.
Jeff nodded with approval. "Good boy," he murmured, heading back to his study.
When his father was out of earshot, Scott turned back to Virgil. He thought about saying something, but decided against it. He walked into his bedroom and almost slammed the door shut.
Virgil knew that he had been lucky to get away with that. The lies just seemed to roll off of his tongue. Over the next few weeks, they continued to roll.
"Why are you late again?" They would ask.
"Extra band practice," he would answer.
"Why change your clothes as soon as you get home?"
"They get dirty, and I wouldn't want them to mess up the house."
"Why do you keep coughing?"
"I've got a bit of a cold."
"Why do you smell of smoke?"
"Some of my teachers smoke," Virgil replied for what felt like the fiftieth time. That one was getting harder and harder to cover up.
The day after he tried the cigarette, he vowed that he would never touch one again. But, he was pressured. They were offered, along with the dominating looks, and he accepted. He just could not stop.
He never bought any cigarettes, since he did not look old enough. One Friday afternoon, after band practice, Tommy took Virgil to one side.
"Here," he said, closing two objects into Virgil's hand. "To keep you going over the weekend." With that, he walked away.
When Virgil dared open his hand, he saw that he had been given a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. He trembled with the realisation. This was power. He had been handed his own supply.
He hid them deep inside his bag, in a small tear in the lining so that no one could find them. Virgil then walked home, like he had done for the past week. Since the encounter with Scott outside the bathroom, no one had noticed his belatedly arrival home after school, and they had been asking less questions.
Later that evening, when most of the household were asleep, Virgil snuck out of his bed with his rucksack. He climbed out of his bedroom window, careful not to wake John, and crawled onto the roof of his house. He found the gently sloped part of the roof and knelt on it. He fumbled for the packet of cigarettes and lighter. The adrenaline was running through him, partly through fear, partly through excitement, and partly through the need to have a cigarette.
Once he began to smoke, he relaxed and settled back. He turned towards the setting June sun. The yellow and orange rays splashed across the darkening sky, giving every object in its path its own shadow. The evening sun flecked through the leaves of the silver birch tree in the front garden and created a sheet of dappled light covering it.
Virgil smiled at the natural, innocent sight in front of him, and then glanced back to the cigarette. The small, round tube filled with goodness knows what, and he was breathing it all in. Yet, at that time, it did not seem to bother him. He took another puff of it and relaxed.
That Sunday evening, Virgil was sitting in his and John's room and finishing his homework when there came a quiet knock on the door. "Come in," he called, shutting his book.
Jeff walked into the room and took a moment to glance in disgust at the mess. Knowing that that was not his main concern, he ignored it and walked over to where Virgil sat.
"You want something, Dad?" Virgil asked.
Jeff smiled slightly and shook his head. "Just a chat, if you're not too busy."
"No, no, I've done my homework," Virgil replied. He wondered if someone had found out about his smoking, and told Jeff. He dismissed the idea, because if that were the case, Jeff would be looking far from the genial figure that stood before him.
Jeff sat on the bed. "We haven't talking lately. How's school going?"
"Fine," he replied. Why was his father taking time to talk to him? What had he done?
"Good, good. Nice to see you're getting along okay. You know, if you have any problems, you can always talk to me."
I tried that about this time last week, Virgil thought to himself. "Sure, Dad."
Jeff stood up. "Good. Well, good night, son." He walked towards the door.
"Night, Dad." The door closed with a click.
Well, Virgil thought to himself. He could not remember the last time his father had tried to have a heart-to-heart talk with him. Scott, many times. Scott, being the eldest, had much more in common with his father. John too, because of the shared love of astronomy. Both Gordon and Alan could talk to Dad anytime, because they were the two youngest. Virgil was stuck in the middle. He was not a lot like his father, except maybe in some features. He was like his mother, who was no longer able to help him.
Virgil waited patiently by the wall after school, where he was due to meet his four friends. When he heard the noise of feet coming from behind him, he turned around and automatically assumed that it was them. He was startled to find that, instead of four cheerful boys, it was actually an angry-looking brother in the form of John who was storming towards him.
"I don't know why I never saw it before." the blonde-haired teen muttered to himself. He directed no speech towards Virgil, but just pulled him by the arm and dragged him away.
"Hey, what's the deal?" Virgil protested.
"Quiet," John muttered, apparently enraged. Virgil knew better than to argue with an angry Tracy.
He dragged Virgil back into school and into an empty classroom. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING?!" he almost screamed.
"Excuse me?" Virgil asked once he had recovered from the shock of John raising his voice.
"I should have seen it, I should have put two and two together," the older Tracy boy muttered to himself again. "I even heard a few people saying it but it never registered."
"What are you talking about?" Virgil asked, not really sure whether he wanted to know or not.
"You're hanging around with Tommy Reid and his gang!" John blurted out.
Oh, so you noticed, Virgil thought to himself. "And?"
"And? And?! They are a year older than you, for one thing," John said.
"What's age got to do with it?"
"And for another, they smoke," John told him. He swallowed. "And I know that you do, too."
Virgil frowned. How did he find out?
"So, its true?" John asked. Virgil's silence said it all.
John lowered his head gravely. "Why, Virgil? Why?"
Virgil felt that John was talking to him like some distant schoolteacher would. "What do you care, anyway?"
That hurt John. "Of course I care! I care what happens to you. You're my bro, remember?"
Virgil smiled slightly. If it were anyone else talking to him right now, then Virgil would have blown his fuse and left the building by then. But, it was John. John had a calming, reassuring air about him. Even if he yelled like he had just done, Virgil knew that he still loved him and that he was always there for him.
"Are you going to tell Dad?" Virgil asked in a meek voice.
John thought about this. "If you promise to quit smoking, as of now, then I won't tell anyone. But, if I catch you smoking, you are going to be in a pile of trouble bigger than the pile of dirty socks under Gordon's bed."
Virgil chuckled as John continued. "I guess there's no harm in you still being friends with Tommy, as long as you keep that deal, okay?"
"Deal," Virgil replied.
The next day, Scott had his eyes on two particularly attractive girls who sat at the desk diagonally in front of him in his math class. Whilst he had his eyes on them, he also had his ears tuned in to their hushed conversation.
"I think he's fine," one girl began. "Especially when he plays soccer"
"Yeah, he could tackle me any day," the other girl replied, giggling.
Scott listened to this. He played football. Could it be.?
"I love the dark-haired guys," the first girl said.
"His smile," the other girl drifted off.
Scott unconsciously ran a hand through his chocolate-brown locks, and flashed a sparkling grin.
"I know he's two years younger than us," the first girl began. "But he's still nice!"
Scott's fantasy with the two girls skidded to a halt. Two years younger? Who could the lucky junior be? He listened intently for any answers.
"And if he hangs around with Tommy Reid, and Sam, Shane and Mark, then he's bound to be hot!"
Oh, Scott thought to himself. The gang has another member. He hoped that a name would come up.
"I love guys with unusual names. I mean, who else do you know who is called Virgil?"
Scott almost fell off his seat with astonishment. Virgil? As in his brother, Virgil Tracy? No, surely not. But then, who else did he know with that name, in the school?
Then it clicked. Virgil was hanging around with Tommy Reid's gang? So, that's how he got into the football game. And that must mean.
No way. Not Virgil. He had more sense than to smoke, right? Come to think of it, Scott thought to himself, he had smelt more smoke around the house than usual. Interrogation at recess, he decided.
Virgil was one of the first onto the soccer field that day, since his teacher, due to having a headache, had decided to dismiss the class early.
As the thirteen-year-old walked towards the field, he saw that Sam was there already. He was about to call and greet him when he saw the reason to the question of why Sam did not smoke. He mentally kicked himself for not realising it before. Sam was taking a breath from an asthma inhaler.
Virgil thought that Sam probably did not want people to know about his illness. He saw no reason for Sam to be embarrassed or ashamed, but he decided not to say anything. If Sam did not want to talk about it, then that was his wish, and it would be kept that way. At least now, Virgil thought to himself, I know why he does not smoke.
"Virgil!" Scott called before the usual lunchtime soccer match started. By that time, a few other people had arrived, John included. The two brothers were putting their soccer boots on.
"Virgil, I want a word with you." Scott had marched over and was standing high over his younger brother. "You've been hanging around with Tommy Reid's lot, haven't you?"
"So?" Virgil asked, sending a sideways glance to John.
"You've been smoking, haven't you?" Scott was only bluffing, but as he both feared and hoped, it work. Not only did he find the truth, he found that more people knew than he had thought.
"John!" Virgil ignored Scott and turned to his blonde-haired brother. "You made a deal. I'd stop smoking if you'd keep your mouth shut."
"Virgil, I."
"Save it. You broke your part of the deal, so I break mine!" With that, he sprinted onto the pitch, intercepting the ball and firing it into the back of the net.
Scott turned to John. "You knew? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"
Calmly, John replied, "Sometimes, threatening kids doesn't work. I made a deal with him. If I kept my mouth shut, he'd stopped smoking. I kept a check on him, you know, and he kept his part of the deal. Now that you've gone off your head at him, he'll forget that deal and start again."
Scott looked at him coldly. "You should have known better than to keep it to yourself. As soon as I get home, Dad is going to know about this."
That will not help anything, John thought to himself, shaking his head. Still, there was no use in telling Scott that. Scott and Jeff shared the stubborn streak, and there was no use in trying to change either of their minds.
"VIRGIL!"
The boy in question had been expecting it all afternoon. As soon as Scott knew anything, so did Jeff, especially when it was as serious as this matter seemed to be.
Virgil walked calmly into his father's study. There, Jeff sat, looking very far from pleased. He had the same stony look on his face that he had worn when his wife had died.
There was no point in Virgil pleading innocence, as it was far too late for anything like that.
"When did it start, Virgil?" He was straight to the point, as usual. There was no wasting any time dancing around the subject with Jeff.
"A week or two ago," Virgil replied coolly.
At the sound of no hint of apology from his son, Jeff became angry. "Don't you know the dangers? The diseases, the cancers? You'll be coughing and choking through the rest of your life."
Virgil had put some thought to them, but he had just shrugged it off, which he visually showed to his father.
"And what about the fact that it is illegal at your age? You know that, everybody knows that. Do you know the trouble you could get into?"
Sensing that after yet another non-answer Jeff was getting nowhere fast, he asked the main question; the one had been on the tip of his tongue since he had found out about the subject in discussion.
"Why, Virgil? Why start smoking?"
Virgil turned away. Why should he tell him his problems when he had never listened in the past? But then, he had nothing to lose. He decided to go for it.
"What's to stop me? What will I miss if I did die from all these diseases? I'm never going to amount to anything, and no one will miss me. Not around here, anyway."
Virgil was in full flow now. He thought that being treated the way he was by his family was not getting to him, but now he realised how much it was. "Scott's the apple of your eye, being the eldest. John is not far off, since you two share your passion for astronomy. Gordon and Alan get treated well, too, since they're the youngest. No one even knows I exist around this place until I do anything wrong. So why should it bother anyone who I hang around with, or what I do with my spare time?"
Jeff was stunned at Virgil's outburst. The unfortunate reality was that it was true. Virgil, being the middle child, tended to be forgotten, but Jeff did not realise to what extend.
"Virgil, I'm sorry," was all he could say. "I'm sorry that this happened. If I had have taken some notice of you. all of this could have been prevented. I promise that you will never have to feel that way again." Jeff let a moment pass before he asked, "Do you think you could give up smoking?"
Yes was the obvious answer for Virgil. He was hardly going to tell his father that he would continue. Still, he was undecided and unconvinced as to whether it would really happen, whether his father and family would really start to take some notice of him, or whether they were all empty promises. He left the study still wondering.
It was after band practice the next day, Friday, when Virgil told the gang about what had happened. They were walking home along the canal route that the group usually took. "Tough break, kid," Tommy sympathised when Virgil told him about the incident. "Did he ask you not to smoke?"
Virgil shrugged. He acted like he did not care about the whole thing, but really he was in two minds about it.
"This is our stop," Tommy reminded them as he reached his and the twins' road. "See you on Monday!" Tommy called as he left Virgil with Mark.
Once the three other boys were safely out of sight, Mark turned to Virgil, with a menacing look on his face.
"Do you realise what you have done, you stupid kid?"
The venom in Mark's voice caused Virgil to inwardly tremble. What was happening?
"Now that your father knows, he'll tell the school, and the school will tell our parents. Do you realise what my father will say? He'll go mad! Crazy!"
Virgil tried to edge away as Mark advanced on him. "You'll pay for your carelessness." Suddenly, Mark swung his fist powerfully and struck Virgil above his left eye.
Virgil staggered back, caught unawares by the physical outburst. He was punched again, almost immediately, and was sent tumbling to the ground. Mark kicked Virgil repeatedly in the chest, bruising his ribs badly. Satisfied, the boy left hurriedly, not wanting anyone to know of his crime.
Jeff kept his word. He promised to take notice of Virgil, and began to worry when he did not arrive for his dinner.
"We've looked all over the house, but there's no sign of him anyway," Gordon replied.
"Scott and I will go out and look for him," John suggested, receiving a sidelong glance from his older brother.
"Yes, good idea," Jeff replied. He had hoped that after his talk with him the previous night would stop his son from getting into further trouble. Unfortunately, things did not look that way.
"Mom?" Virgil felt as though he was floating on air. He had turned around and had seen his mother, floating beside him. Virgil blinked, not quite believing it.
"Virgil, your brothers love you. Your father loves you," she told him serenely.
"I love you, mom. I want to be with you!"
She shook her head, looking regretful. "No you don't, Virgil. Please stop smoking, for me." She disappeared as Virgil resided into a black and numb feeling.
"Why are we doing this again?" Scott asked yet another time.
"Because Virgil is our younger brother, and it is our job to look out for him, no matter how much you don't want to," John replied coolly. He did not like Scott's attitude towards his younger siblings, Virgil in particular. John knew that on the inside, Scott loved all of his family dearly, but he was just at that age where he had other things to be concerned about.
"Is this the right way?" Scott asked, changing the subject.
"He usually comes home this way," John replied. They were walking along the canal bank when they saw a sight that made them worry.
"His bag," John replied, running over to it. When he reached up, he saw a sight that frightened him even more. Down the bank was Virgil, inches away from the rushing water of the canal. John ran down to him, with Scott closely behind him.
"He's okay, right?" Scott asked, crouching down beside John.
"He's in a bad way, but nothing that won't fix," John replied. Virgil was beginning to stir. "Hey, easy," John soothed his younger brother.
"Wha.?" Virgil asked groggily. "How'd you get here?"
"We thought we'd look for you, since we know how much you hate to miss your dinner," John replied, grinning ever so slightly.
"What happened, Virgil?" Scott asked seriously.
"It was Mark. He was angry when I said that Dad found out about the smoking thing," Virgil replied, sitting up slightly.
"He did this to you? I'll kill him," Scott muttered. An interesting way to show you care, but a way at least, John thought to himself.
"Think you are up to walking home? Or shall we call Dad and get him to pick us up?" John asked.
"I'll be fine," Virgil assured them. Slowly, the three walked home. Virgil decided not to tell anyone about his mother. They would think he had gone mad, or think that it was all a dream from the bump on his head. In any case, they would never believe him.
One thing was for sure; he would stop smoking. If his mother wanted it, then he would grant her wish.
"How do you feel, son?" Jeff asked Virgil, who was lying sprawled on the sofa, watching the TV. Jeff had warned his other four sons that there would be trouble if Virgil was disturbed.
"Better today, thanks," Virgil replied.
"Good," Jeff replied, still looking troubled.
"Dad, it's not your fault," Virgil told him, reading his mind. "I thought that Mark was bad news from the start. It was just unlucky that I was in the wrong place with the wrong person."
Jeff nodded. "I'll call the school about him."
Panic sprung to Virgil's eyes, and Jeff tried to rid his son of it. "This whole sorry business will be sorted out, you'll see."
Virgil hoped that his father was right.
Virgil returned to school the following Wednesday, with the knowledge that both Scott and John would be around to keep an eye on him. Tommy, Shane and Sam were there to meet him in the morning.
"Hey, Virgil," Tommy greeted. "We heard what happened to you."
"Mark's bad news," Shane told him.
"The worst," Sam added.
"He got expelled for bullying, and for smoking," Tommy said. "Your father must have told him about us, too."
"What?" Virgil was outraged. He liked these three people. Surely they would not be expelled, too?
"It's okay," Shane said.
"Yeah, really," Sam put in.
"We got suspended for two days, but we're the good guys! We've stopped smoking, for good. It's not cool to die, you know." Virgil wished they had realised that earlier.
"It was Mark that persuaded us in the first place," Shane told him.
"I think the girls love us even more now," Sam winked at Virgil.
"Come on, I think that group of girls over there have a problem," Tommy pointed to the assembly who were chatting earnestly about something. "Shall we help?"
The three followed, laughing. In the distance, John and Scott watched.
"He takes after me, you know," Scott said. "Knows how to handle women."
John rolled his eyes. "Thank God he hasn't got a head the size of yours." He received a light punch on the shoulder for his comment, but grinned all the same.
The End
A/N: I hope you like this (even with the cheesy ending.) Please review! Luv ya all!