JAKE: UC Fragments

In this Fragment, it's Jake's day to teach Spanish to some of his favorite people in the world. But he does something for the kids, first.

Timeline: after "Zero Option"

Jake pulled his rented car up a few blocks from the shelter, for there was no parking available near the shelter. His own car had blown a gasket and was in the shop. He had found, much to his surprise, he rather liked the rental car Frank had arranged for him.

The car was red. A lot of women drivers were beeping at Jake, smiling and waving at him. Jake waved back. Frank was right. Jaguars were quite enjoyable to drive, Jake had to admit. And for the past several months, since Keller's death and Frank's entrance as the team's leader, Jake had found himself admitting a lot of things.

Not that he minded, he told himself as he got out of the car, making sure to set the car alarm. He walked down the two blocks to the shelter. Sometimes weeks had gone by without his being able to spend time with the kids there. But for the last several weeks he'd been able to go on a regular basis.

He'd found spending time with the kids quite relaxing. Very relaxing. Today was his day to give the shelter's kids their Spanish lessons.

And today's lessons was verb conjugations.

Ack! How he hated verb conjugations. The kids groaned whenever he told them their lesson would consist of conjugating verbs. He could relate but hey, you didn't learn a language unless you learned verb conjugations.

Ahh, crud! He'd forgotten the treats he'd brought for the kids! He spun on his heel and walked the two blocks back to the parked Jag. Turning off the car alarm, and unlocking the passenger door, Jake grabbed the shopping bag from the passenger seat. Shutting the door and resetting the car alarm, Jake took a few steps, then looked up. There was a young man watching him. Jake couldn't discern the expression on the man's face--envy? Jealousy? Contempt? A mixture of all three? Jake smiled, then continued walking.

He walked the two blocks back to the shelter, singing to himself.

Opening the door to the shelter, and stepping inside, he was greeted by a cacophony of young voices--"Jake!" "Jake!" "Jake!" "Jake's here!" "He's here!" "Come on, Jake's here!" "Vamos! Es Jake!"

He had to admit the feeling of being wanted felt good. He felt good after so many years of feeling unwanted, so many years of being alone. Yeah, he'd had the Father, and the church, but the feeling of having somebody--a lot of somebodies--get excited when you walk into a room, that feeling was pure joy.

Now that was what Jake considered a homecoming.

The kids gathered around him, all speaking at the same time in an excited mixture of Spanish and English, "Jake! We want the cookies!" and "Jake, queremos las galletas, queremos las galletas, por favor!"

Jake chuckled. The kids always liked the cookies he baked himself. He was actually a decent cook. Uh, make that baker. Food, he still burned sometimes, but cookies he could bake. Probably because he himself liked cookies.

The kids had discovered that the brightly wrapped tins contained double chocolate chip cookies. Jake knew that kids liked to unwrap presents and many of them received precious few gifts wrapped in gift wrapping. Again, Jake had Frank to thank for that observation.

Frank had suggested wrapping the tins of cookies. Some months ago, he'd come across Jake baking cookies in the nest's gym. Jake hadn't known--and still didn't know--just how long Frank had been standing there, listening to Jake hum as he dropped the cookie dough onto the greased baking sheets. Jake had chosen to use the nest's oven for baking because it was larger than his own oven, which looked like somebody had chopped it in two and sold Jake one-half. Frank had cleared his throat.

Jake turned around, a sheepish look in his face, but Frank had been smiling. "Baking?" he asked.

"Uh yeah. It's for the kids at the shelter," Jake said, wondering why he felt sheepish about baking cookies.

Frank noticed the tins to hold the cooled cookies. "You know, Jake," Frank said in his 'observation' voice, which Jake knew by now that Frank was going to give a psychological slant to Jake's baking. Frank continued. "Those kids don't get to unwrap a lot of gifts that have wrapping paper. They'd really enjoy it if you wrapped the tins of cookies up in wrapping paper. Kids really like to rip wrapping paper off gifts, especially gifts with bows and ribbons. The very young children love to stick the bows on their faces," he finished, still smiling.

"I'll try that," Jake said, as the timer on the oven went off. Jake got the cookies out of the oven, put them on the cooling rack, then turned to finish speaking to Frank. But like the wind, Frank had gone, most likely to his office.

Later that same day after Jake had finished baking the few dozen batches of cookies, cooled them and put them into the tins, he'd taken the tins out to his car. It was his day to go the shelter. Walking up to his car, he noticed something was in the front passenger seat.

Instantly wary, yet knowing the nest and its environs were safe, Jake looked around. He cautiously walked around his car, looking for someone hiding. He looked under the car--no one.

When he opened the passenger side door and finally looked at the package, Jake laughed. For there, on the seat, was a shopping bag containing bright wrapping paper, ribbons and bows, along with a big roll of scotch tape that Frank had undoubtedly nicked from the supply cabinet.

Then Jake realized something. He'd forgotten to lock the passenger side door. He remembered locking the driver's side. Damn! Jake slapped his head. He'd opened the car door, but he never unlocked it. Frank had left the wrapping paper there to remind him to never leave his car unlocked, even while it was parked at the nest. Frank and his lessons.

Jake chuckled to himself as he remembered this memory while he watched the kids rip off the rest of the wrapping paper on the cookie tins. Frank had been right, the very youngest children loved to stick the bows on their faces. A few were prancing around trailing the ribbons and singing at the top of their voices.

"Mmmmmmm! Galletas!" a five year old girl said to Jake. "Gracias, Tio Jake! Gracias por las galletas!" she bubbled up at him, stuffing her mouth full of chocolate chocolate chip cookie.

"Why don't we go get you some milk?" Jake said, smiling, taking her hand and leading her to the table. The rest of the children followed him, trailing ribbons and bows, and blowing cookie crumbs out of their mouths.

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