Disclaimer: I have no claim whatsoever many of these characters. But they kind of own me.
Note: This is the fifth story in my 'Right Now, In Cascade' series, aka my 'Teen Sentinel' series ('Chiefly,' 'Sunday at the Camp,' 'Tumble,' and 'From the Rather Orderly Files of Mr. William T. Ellison'). But I'm now over a year behind, and not every story is going to be about the kids, so - take you pick. I think about it as 'Chiefly and its sequels.'
This story takes place during, and immediately following, the events of 'From the Rather Orderly Files of Mr. William T. Ellison.'
The Other Side
by Helen W.
Jonathan Coleman's dorm room was much neater and more orderly than Jim Ellison would have expected a high school junior's to be. No stray socks in the corner, no half-eaten bagels or empty soda cans on the windowsill.
The shelf above Jonathan's desk held textbooks, all in slip covers, their spines even but not too even. Pencils (two sharp, one duller), pens of several colors, and three different shades of highlighter were all safely within a tin can covered with flower stickers - a contribution presumably from Jonathan's younger sister, Jenna. His bookshelf had thirty or forty books, a mixture of hardcovers and paperbacks - Heinlein, King, Tolkein, Bujold, Pratchett, and the entire Harry Potter saga, and but also Pynchon, Hemingway, Updike, Yglesias, and some older classics. All arranged neatly, and only roughly by type.
The only thing out-of-place was the boy's unmade bed. "That's why I thought he was sleeping at bed-check last night," said his roommate, a short, nervous boy who'd been introduced as Thad.
"Is this exactly how he left it?" Jim asked.
"I moved stuff around when our alarm went off and he didn't move," said Thad. "I hope that's okay."
"Of course it is," said Jim. "Was there a pillow under the covers?" Had Jonathan meant to deceive anyone?
"No, nothing like that," said Thad. "I just thought, since he's usually so anal about this sort of shit-uh-stuff, if his bed looked slept-in he had to be in it, you know?"
This was, Jim thought, typical of Jonathan Coleman, or the bits of him he'd observed during his weekends at the Center for the Study of the Acutely Sensitive (a.k.a. CSAS), Blair Sandburg's compound for people with enhanced senses and their families in the hills north of Cascade National Park. Jonathan had, until the previous September, lived with his family at CSAS due to the abilities of his younger sister. But life at CSAS hadn't been interesting enough for him, apparently, and for the past half-year Jonathan had been attending Cascade Academy, the region's premier day and boarding school, if you believed Jim's father and his social circle. According to Blair, the school had done back-flips to enable Jonathan to attend after he'd aced some test or the other; and Jim could just imagine Jonathan in the interview, calmly showing knowledge about, and interest in, whatever topic came up, giving away nothing.
It wasn't as if Jim didn't like Jonathan; there was nothing, really, to dislike. The boy was obviously bright, and mixed well with the kids at CSAS as well as the adults. Jonathan had struck up a particularly close friendship with one of the boys who'd needed it the most, one of the few true sentinels in residence (according to Blair), Jason Wagner. When Jim had heard the other week that Jason's parents had removed him from CSAS and (Jim had only this past week learned) enrolled him in the Dawson School, an institution for troubled boys located on the outskirts of Cascade, he'd hoped that Jonathan and Jason would be able to maintain their friendship. And when Jason had turned up at Cascade General a few days prior looking like he'd lost a fight, Jim had thought it too bad that Jason hadn't had Jonathan around to watch his back, and had wondered how Jonathan would react when he found out Jason had been beaten up.
Apparently, the answer was, 'not well.' Security tapes from the night before showed two boys entering the Dawson, and leaving a few minutes later carrying Jason Wagner between them. The two intruders were clearly Jonathan Coleman and Lenny Ki, one of CSAS's more troubled residents. During their time off-tape, they'd allegedly entered the school infirmary and nabbed Jason from his hospital bed, assaulted at least one Dawon employee, and damaged some property. Their trail ended at a hole they'd cut in a fence; they'd simply vanished into the night.
Jim had come to Jonathan Coleman's dorm room hoping to find some indication of where he and Lenny would have taken Jason, but there was nothing obvious - no brochures lying about, no strange phone numbers on sticky notes (or impressed into lower pages). Of course Jonathan's computer files and papers would be searched more thoroughly, but that wasn't a job for Jim.
"Sir?"
The officer who'd been interviewing Thad when he'd arrived, a Sgt. Barbara Behen, clearly could not understand why the chief of police was tromping into the middle of her case.
"Just wanted to see things for myself," he said. "Carry on."
He weighed checking out the Dawson School to see where exactly Jason had been nabbed from, but suspected it wouldn't be good for his blood pressure.
It was time to give a Blair a call.
Jim had found a quiet corner and was reaching for his cell when Blair's number flashed on the screen.
"What took you so long?" Jim had to start with.
"Um, Jim, it looks like we have a bit of a runaway situation."
"Yeah, I'm standing outside Jonathan Coleman's dorm room right now. Looks like he put at least a little planning into this - ruffled up his blankets before he left, so that nobody would notice him gone last night. Kind of wished he hadn't - it'll make the assault and battery charges stick that much harder."
"WHAT? What's Jonathan have to do with anything?" Blair asked.
"You're just now realizing…"
"That Lenny Ki stole the Coleman's Corolla? Yeah - oh, God, Jim, what happened? Did he total it? Was Jonathan in it too? Shit!"
"Calm down, chief! Nobody's totaled anything." Well, not that he knew of. "I'm at Cascade Academy because it looks like Lenny and Jonathan broke Jason out of the Dawson School last night. I thought I might see something here that would tell me where they went, but there's nothing. Didn't know they had a car; I'll get that information distributed ASAP."
"Well, that's good… Well, not too good, I guess. You're working the case?"
"Of course not, but the incident at the Dawson made it into my morning stack and caught my eye. Headed over here as soon as I I.D.'d Jonathan and Lenny in the video; when I got onto the campus I discovered Cascade Academy'd just phoned in that Jonathan's missing."
"Wait, back up, did you say, 'assault and battery'?"
"Yeah, they roughed up some employees. And it's not clear that Jason left willingly, so we may be looking at kidnapping. When they turn up, they're in a bit of trouble. Anyway, I'd better back out of things before I become part of the story. And I can't afford to spend all morning on this. I'll keep you posted."
"Should I come down to Cascade?" Blair asked.
"I doubt they're still in town," said Jim. "Stay up there, keep everyone calm. I'm betting everyone with enhanced hearing is having a good panic by now."
"White noise generators, man."
"Don't work real well for Jenna Coleman, if she's paying attention, and I bet she is."
"Yeah, shit, you're right. Keep me posted."
"Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise, chief."
As cases went, missing teens didn't require much official attention from Jim. Around noon, a Cascade Times reporter called asking for official comment on the matter of the missing 'special needs youth' Lenny Ki, seemingly prompted by the early-morning missing persons report Blair had made to the authorities in the town nearest CSAS. An amber alert was issued for Jonathan and Jason, who were minors, but it didn't yield any useful leads.
Unofficially, the case ate Jim's life. He spent most of the day on the phone with Blair, who varied from wanting to throw in the towel and go into historical anthropology, to near-complete despair. "How could this have happened?" he kept asking. "If there was a problem, why couldn't they trust us?"
The next day went no better, nor the next. No sign of the boys, no sign of the Coleman's Corolla, general panic and despair over his Nokia from Sandburg, and, once or twice, from John Coleman, Jonathan's father and Jim's sometime golfing buddy.
Calls from Jim's ex-stepmother, Grace, were seldom appreciated. Not because of the whole evil stepmother trope, but because she was one of the deans of the Cascade law community. She seldom dealt in actual defense work, but she had her fingers in all sorts of matters that crossed paths with the interests of the Cascade PD, and she never hesitated to use her personal connection to its chief when it suited her.
When she opened with, "I'm calling about the Wagner/Coleman case," Jim's heart sank.
"Don't tell me you're representing the Dawson School," he said. Grace preferred crunchy causes when they were worth her time or they struck her fancy, and the Dawson didn't seem to fit her profile.
"No, I'm representing your father."
"What??" Jim sat up straight. "What the hel-heck?"
"My office, 4 p.m." That was in two hours. "Bring whomever can strike a deal regarding any charges against Jonathan Coleman."
"What about Lenny Ki?"
"I'm not interested in him at the moment. Be there, sweetie."
Jim's next call was, unsurprisingly, from Blair. "What the heck-um-hell?"
"You know what I know, chief," said Jim. "See you there."
There were a few people already seated when Jim and has favorite tough-ass assistant DA, Barry Palmer, walked into the main conference room at Fenwick, Ellison and Yu at 4 p.m. sharp. Back at the PD, he'd briefed Palmer on his connection to the case, making it clear that Jim understood that his presence was unwise, and that he'd absent himself if he, or, more importantly, Palmer, felt he was compromising anything.
Jim had been tempted to send Palmer in alone and monitor things from a distance, but thought Blair might need the support. And, well, at the end of the day, he'd known Blair a whole lot longer than he'd had the Big Job.
Blair and John and Marie Coleman were making small-talk with Grace at one end of a large oak table; another couple who looked like they could easily be Jason Wagner's parents were sitting together at the other end. There was no sign of anyone specifically there for Lenny Ki, but that wasn't a surprise.
Jim exchanged nods with the people he knew, then he and Barry sat near the probable Wagners. A moment later, a man in his 50s entered, flanked by a younger man and several younger women. Grace stood and made introductions all around; it turned out that he'd been right about the Wagners (George and Margo), and that the unknown people were Principal Gene Welch of the Dawson School, the two staff members who'd encountered Jonathan and Lenny during their break-in, and several of Grace's own staffmembers.
So all they were missing were Jonathan, Jason, and dear old dad.
The missing trio made a grand entrance a moment after everyone else was settled, his father shepherding Jonathan and Jason in like a proud uncle. Marie Coleman let out a squeak and started to rise from her seat, but Jonathan lifted a hand, fingers splayed, then folded down all but his index finger: stay still, give him a moment.
The boys rounded the table until they were several feet from the Dawson people, Jason a half-step behind Jonathan. "I'm very sorry for what happened the other night," said Jonathan. "Lenny and I shouldn't have come in like that, and we shouldn't have fought you. I know better than to do to that. All I can say is, we were scared." He turned a little and faced the woman who'd been introduced as nurse Jill Kingover. "I'm sorry about your phone," he said. "Did it break?"
"Yes," she said stiffly.
"I'll pay to replace it, with whatever you want," he said.
"Tell her you'll help her get the data off the old one, if she wants," said Jason.
Jonathan rolled his eyes a little. "What he said," he said.
He turned to the young man, whom Grace had identified as Randall Harwick. "I'm sorry you got hurt," he said. "Are you okay?"
"I'll live," said Harwick. "Your friend knew what he was doing. I've never been tossed around like that before."
"Yeah, he had a good teacher," said Jonathan, flashing a quick grin at Jim. Lovely. Jim was definitely going to have to concentrate more on defense than offense during hand-to-hand lessons at CSAS in the future.
The Dawson School principal spoke up, gesturing at Jason. "You're the boy who was in the infirmary for a week? You look completely different.
"Look at him, Jill. His eye's completely healed."
He looked past the boys, to Jim's father. "Mr. Ellison, what have you been feeding him? Honestly, I would not have recognized him."
Jim's father smiled. "I think you've just made part of our argument for us," he said. "Jason here really didn't belong at your school."
"Well, we couldn't just dump him out into the night," said Welch. He nodded toward the Wagners. "No offense to the parents, but they clearly are not set up to handle a child with his issues at home. And we usually find that a little discipline and order and a sense of belonging does wonders for boys like him."
"Do you actually get many boys like him?" asked Blair, who had to shut up now.
"We get all types," said Mr. Welch. "Even some autism spectrum. Many with learning disabilities as severe as his. Children aren't made of glass, Dr. Sandburg. Most of our students positively thrive; go on to great success in college, get advanced degrees, the works."
"You came highly recommended," said Jason's father. Welch nodded, looking smugly vindicated.
"Okay, we're in agreement so far," said Grace. "Jason shouldn't have been at Dawson, despite its suitability on paper."
"I'd argue…" Blair began, stopping when (Jim was pretty sure) Marie Coleman kicked him.
"Two," continued Grace, "Whatever Jason's been up to the past few days, he's looking much improved."
Jason, his face coloring, looked away.
"Three," said Grace, "Jonathan is very, very sorry Mr. Harwick was hurt, and for the damage to Ms. Kingover's cell phone, and is willing to face the consequences of his actions. As his advocate, however, let me point out that, whatever Jonathan's legal culpability, it was Lenny Ki who actually tussled with Mr. Harwick."
"Don't say that, Mrs. Ellison!" Jonathan exclaimed. "Don't try to pin this on Lenny. He really doesn't need that. I was the leader; I take the blame."
"They're separate issues," said Barry Palmer. "Your culpability vs. your friend's."
Jonathan seemed to chew on this for an instant, then nodded.
Grace smiled and continued. "Also, let me state that, for the record, Jonathan and Jason do not know the location of Lenny Ki. Have you recovered the Coleman's car yet?"
"Not to my knowledge," said Jim.
"It's behind a Motel Six off the highway in Powell," said Jonathan. "Or, that's where Lenny told me he'd leave it. We thought it would be best if I didn't know where he was going next."
"What do you mean?" asked Blair. "He won't be coming back to CSAS?"
"Grand theft auto," said Jonathan. "And assault and battery, and breaking and entering. I don't know. He seemed to think it was all too much."
"You don't seem to feel the same way," said Jim.
"Lenny doesn't have anything keeping him around, I guess."
"And you do?"
Jonathan nodded. "Absolutely."
"So now," said Grace, "the issues we are not in agreement on. First, let's start with Jonathan, since I think this will be more straightforward. Grab a seat, boys, Mr. Ellison. Excellent.
"So Jon, why did you and Lenny do what you did? Just your part, please?"
Jonathan explained how he'd been doing laps on the outdoor track at Cascade Academy when Lenny Ki had shown up and told him that word at CSAS was that Jason Wagner was across town at the Dawson School being beaten up. Jonathan had quickly gone up to his dorm room to change into more appropriate clothing and, as an afterthought, had taken the opportunity to rumple up the bed artfully. Better just to go and come unofficially if he could manage it, since he was in a hurry and chances were he'd be back by curfew anyway.
He'd been a little surprised that Lenny had his family's car, but until Lenny told him hours later that he'd taken it without asking, he'd just assumed Lenny had borrowed it with permission. "And… you have to realize, in Lenny's world, driving around in a stolen car made more sense than asking my parents if he could borrow it. He'd rather get arrested than get a 'no' from people he knows," Jonathan explained.
"Makes being his friend a little risky, doesn't it?" asked Grace.
Jonathan shrugged. "Most people are strange if you dig down at all. Makes life interesting."
He continued with the story. "When we got to the Dawson, we heard people, maybe including you" - he gestured toward Jill Kingover - "talking about how sick Jason was. I've seen Jason sick and hurt before, I know that he can't take the sorts of treatments that work for other people. Honestly, I didn't know whether he was going to live the night if we left him there."
"You could have come to me," said Blair.
"Your mother, myself, Chief Ellison even," said Jonathan's father.
Jonathan shook his head. "Some of you knew where he was, and that he had been beat up, and you weren't doing a damn thing about it. None of you except for Lenny. Who was I going to work with? So we went in, got him, and got out. Then went to the closest sentinel expert we knew about, which of course was Officer Jim's father."
The whole table radiated incredulity, except for Jim's father, who smiled at him and winked.
"So now we know how you ended up making the acquaintance of William Ellison; for those here who don't know, Bill is one of my oldest and dearest friends, and we were married for a spell during the Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon administrations. We have a son together, Jimmy's half-brother Steven, who has somehow managed to escape being drawn into this situation.
Bill was one of the wealthiest men in Cascade in his day, a fact that allowed me to attend law school in comfort even after our divorce."
His father nodded toward the Wagners, as if it was these people in particular who would care; well, everyone else presumably already knew who he was.
Grace returned her attention to Jonathan. "Jon, what would you like to do now?"
"Have dinner with my parents, then go back to school."
"Jim, do you have any objections?"
Ah, so he did have a reason for being here. Addressing the Dawson group, he asked, "Are you willing to sign a complaint against Jonathan Coleman?"
"Not for the B&E," said the principal.
"And he's not the kid that threw me," said Randall Harwick. "Do I have to decide on everything right now?"
"No," said the assistant DA.
"If there are no immediate charges," said Grace, "the question is, where is he allowed to be. Mom, Dad, do you mind if he goes back to school?"
Both elder Colemans grimaced at Grace's choice of language, but nodded. "If they'll have him," John put in sourly.
"I've called the headmaster - an old friend of mine - and said that Jonathan was helping a friend and has been laying low on the advice of counsel," said Grace. "If no charges are brought I don't think there'll be trouble on that front."
"Sweet of you," said John Coleman, clearly ironically but Grace just smiled.
"Wonderful," she said. "Now, the tricky part. What do we do with Jason. I suspect nobody here wants him to return to the Dawson School."
"You surmise correctly," said Principal Welch.
"We want our tuition back," said George Wagner.
"Mostly, we'll be reimbursing your home city's board of education, if I recall correctly," the principal replied.
"He's welcome back at CSAS," said Blair. "You were happy there, right?"
Jason nodded, but said, "I want to stay in Cascade."
"Surely you're not thinking you could live alone here!" said Jim. "Dad, what are you up to?"
"No, of course not," said his father. "Jason, where do you want to live?"
"With you, Mr. Ellison, like we talked about. In Officer Jim's old room."
Jim's dad looked smug; Grace looked proud; the Wagners looked, as usual, like deers in headlights; and Blair said, "Excuse me, Bill, but I'm not sure parenthood is where your talents lie."
Grace barked out a rather nonprofessional laugh and turned to the Wagners. "Why did you remove your son from CSAS?"
"It seemed… right…" said Margo Wagner; George Wagner said, "It's really none of your business."
"Would you consent to him returning?"
"We can't really make that decision like this, here with an audience," said Mrs. Wagner. "Maybe Jason should come home with us for a while. We were so worried!"
"Don't I get a say?" asked Jason. "Even now, don't I get a say in where I live?"
"Please, please, everyone," said Grace. "George, Margo, how about Jason stays with Mr. Ellison for just a little while more, until you can arrange your lives to have him at home. He went directly from CSAS to the Dawson School, correct? I suspect his room at home's a mess." Jim suspected he didn't have a room. "Take a few days to get things together, then give me a ring and we can work things out."
The Wagners nodded. "Yes, if he comes home, there's so much we really should do first," said his mother. "We have to clean everything with these completely ineffective products that don't leave the house smelling nicely at all… and there's arranging his schooling… there's really so much to do. Maybe it would be better if he did stay with Mr. Ellison for a while. If that's okay with you, dear?"
Jason nodded, as if this were a fresh idea his mother had just sprung.
"Just for a while," said George Wagner. "Until we get things arranged at home."
The meeting dissipated soon after. The Wagners, claiming a long drive back to Walla Walla (and showing no further interest in Jim's father or in how Jason's days would be filled), nodded nervously to their son and fled. The Dawson people followed, presumably happy that the Wagners weren't asking any uncomfortable questions about their son's short time at the school. Jim let Barry Palmer go as soon as they'd left, since it looked like nobody was interested in anybody (except, perhaps, the missing Lenny Ki) being held legally responsible for anything.
As soon as they reasonably could, the Colemans surrounded their son and pulled him close. "Never never never ever again…" Marie Coleman started, and Jonathan pulled back a little.
"If I need to, I'll do whatever it takes to keep the idiots from killing Jason," he said. "I'll just - try to think of a better way of doing it, if there's a next time."
"That's his parents' job," said John Coleman.
"Yeah, exactly," said Jonathan.
He sighed and pulled back further; his parents released him, and he leaned against the table. "Seriously, I would have called home two days ago, but there were legal things in the air. We couldn't bring the Wagners into play until Mrs. Ellison gave the okay."
Jim spoke up. "Are you stating my father and Grace knowingly harbored runaways?"
"We lied about our ages, sir."
"They did!" said William.
"What legal things?" asked Blair. "Getting this party together?"
"Partially," said Grace. "And just in case the lads turned out to be minors, I started the process of filing for legal emancipation for Jason when Bill first called me; and some other things that could tie up his parents' ability to impose an undesired placement for quite a few months. That's what took the time."
Blair turned to the Colemans. "If you'd like to take my car, you could see if Lenny actually left yours where he said he would." He turned to Jim, explaining, "We drove down from the camp together."
"Jason and I will go with you," said Jonathan. "I'm guessing you want to know everything?"
"You bet, kiddo," said his mother, ushering the group out.
"And you, William, owe me dinner," said Grace to his father. "Care to join us, gentlemen?" she asked Jim and Blair.
"No, that's fine, you kids enjoy yourselves," said Blair. "Jim, I was thinking maybe we should go check out your father's house, see if there are any modifications that need to be made for a kid with Jason's sensitivities."
And maybe get a chance to talk a bit. "That's not a bad idea. Dad, you okay with us heading to the house? Will Sally be home?"
"Sure, that's not a bad idea," said his father. "I'll give a call and tell Sally to expect you. Let me know if there's anything I need to get rid of. Nothing seems to be doing him harm, I must say. It's not like this is completely new territory."
Thankful Blair didn't take that as bait, Jim thanked Grace for organizing the meeting, and left, Blair at his side.
Once in the truck, Jim started the engine mostly to get heat into the interior, then turned to Blair, who'd climbed into the passenger seat without comment and was now staring ahead. Maybe thinking if he stared hard enough he could conjure Lenny Ki.
"You really want to go check out my dad's house?" Jim asked.
"Sure, yeah, we should," said Blair. "God, I hope he's okay."
"Lenny?"
"Yeah."
"How old is he?"
"He turns nineteen next month," said Blair.
"So he's allowed to be wherever he wants to be," said Jim.
"Is he officially a fugitive?"
"There's an arrest warrant out; though since the kidnapping charge is going away, and the Colemans aren't going to press theft charges, we're down to what happened at the Dawson School. No idea how that will play out. Of course his best move would be to turn himself in, or head back to CSAS, and deal with whatever happens. But I can't say nothing would."
"So he's just - out there. Probably getting into more trouble."
"Wouldn't be surprised."
Blair banged his head back against the headrest. "Damn, if I'd just fought Jason's removal, none of this would have happened!"
Jim wasn't sure Lenny'd have made it another year without some sort of legal engagement, but didn't share this with Blair. "What could you have done differently, chief?" he asked. "You weren't there when the Wagners came for their son; your contact info for his family turned out to be incomplete."
"Just excuses, and you know that, Jim!"
"Yeah, they are," said Jim. He sighed. "Sorry, Chief. I don't know what to tell you."
They drove down Main to the pike, then got off an exit later onto Magnolia. In two months, the expansive yards surrounding the area's trophy homes would start to lush up, and even Jim had to admit that the effect was attractive, even if he had no interest in this sort of life for himself. Now the grass was brown, the trees bare against the gray sky.
They passed Cascade Academy to their right, buildings and ballfields and patches of bare forest. "Jonathan lives in that red dorm, down by the tennis courts," Jim said. "I picked him up there when Jason was at North Cascade Community last fall."
They made a right, then a left, then a sharp right onto Cedar Springs Court. Four houses down was the house he'd grown up in. "I hadn't realized you lived so close to Jonathan's school," said Blair. "You didn't go there, right? You went to North High?"
"Yeah, I went to public schools all the way through," said Jim. "We moved into the neighborhood specifically to be near CA, though."
"What happened? I know it's kind of selective, but, man, I can't imagine not accepting someone like you if I was them."
"Bombed the test, flubbed the interview," said Jim.
"Huh," said Blair, who, Jim suspected, hadn't bombed a test in his life.
Getting out of the car, Blair looked down the street, towards where Aaron Foster had taken his father a decade previous. "This dead-ends, right?" Blair asked.
"Yeah, the best access to the ballfields is the next street down," said Jim. "It stretches around the fields, and comes out just past CA, but I never take it because it's purely residential."
"So those fields are near CA land?"
"Can't really tell where city land ends and Cascade Academy property begins. Well, it would probably be obvious to us, but I didn't know as a kid. And I never went back, after."
He stopped. This should be easier to talk about.
"The entrance exam was held at Cascade Academy?" Blair asked.
"Yeah," said Jim. "They used their own, and administered it inhouse." It had been awful.
"So you were - what? - thirteen? - taking the biggest test of your life in a room overlooking those fields and woods. Where you'd seen something you were violently repressing. Jim, man, I'm surprised you didn't totally freak out. Anyone else probably would have."
Was that it? Thirty seconds of Blair Sandburg facetime was all it took to explain one of the larger mysteries of his life?
"You know, you should go into therapy," he said. "See people, help them figure things out."
Blair laughed, but said, "Too much responsibility, man. What if I work with some kid for three years and he takes off on me?"
"Lenny was at CSAS that long?"
"Yeah."
They walked up to the house and were greeted enthusiastically by Sally Wong, his father's housekeeper since before Grace had added 'ex-' to stepmother.
"So," Jim started, once they'd been convinced to sit at the kitchen table and partake of fresh banana bread and herbal tea. "I take it you've had an interesting few days."
"Oh my, yes," said Sally. "Your father just called - wonderful news, that Jason can stay here."
"You won't mind the extra work?" Blair asked.
"Not at all; and some things are worth a bit of bother."
"I've got to know - what did you feed those boys?" asked Jim "I've never seen Jason look better, and apparently he was in pretty rough shape a few days ago."
"I was ready to call 9-1-1 all that first night," said Sally. "Or, at the very least, someone to take a look at him. But I'm glad we didn't. All both boys needed was a bit of peace, I think. A chance to reconnect." She put some more water on to boil, then returned to the table and drew out a chair for herself.
"Do you think my father's up to this?" Jim wondered how to phrase this. "Neither Steven nor myself had - easy - childhoods."
"Your father's a lot mellower," said Sally. "He's figured out a lot about himself, about what's important. And, besides, he won't have to do the real work; that will be Jonathan's job."
"That's what I just don't get," said Blair. "What does everyone seem to imagine Jonathan can do that my staff at CSAS can't?"
Sally shrugged. "Why do we have to have explanations for everything? Don't worry, I'm sure they'll ask you for advice if they need to. But people like Jim here have been learning how to use their talents since the dawn of time, haven't they? Without your program, Blair."
She smiled as if hoping to take the sting out of what she was saying. "I think, gentlemen, you're just going to have to get used to being on the other side of things. Let the boys figure things out for themselves, trust your father not to make life intolerable for them."
Jim didn't like it. He'd spent his lifetime learning from others, in the Army, from the Chopec, from Simon. Soaking up advice, trying to duplicate successes and avoid repeating mistakes. His hardest times with Blair back when they'd been partners had always been when they'd been flying by the seats of their pants, trying to figure out his senses on the go while things crumbled around them.
Why walk away from the knowledge Blair had spent most of a lifetime accumulating?
But that wasn't what Jason seemed to need, or at least to want.
"The other side," said Blair. "I think I can handle that."
It looked like they'd have to.
* * * THE END * * *
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