Disclaimer: Burn Notice and its characters are the intellectual property of others.
Dancing With Skeletons
A Haon
"A gap year? Are you completely daft" She stood facing them, arms crossed, fury in her eyes.
"I'm just not ready to start university. I need a bit of a break, do some travelling, see a bit of the world." He tried to sound light hearted, casting glances toward his father hoping for support.
"We've been shopping for supplies for a month! Don't you think you might have mentioned this plan of yours?" Fiona confronted her son.
"I told you I only needed some new trainers and jeans. The Frette linens and all those kitcheny things were your idea." Charlie spoke plainly but when he saw his mam's face upon hearing those words, he swiftly added, "And they will be extremely useful when I head off to university next fall."
"Well, its too late. Term starts in a week. I don't see how you'll get the university to approve your leave in time." Fiona felt she had found a definitive end to this thought and was about to walk away when Charlie blurted out, "It's already settled." He slowly took the letter from his pocket and attempted to uncrumple it before handing it to his mother, refusing to meet her eyes. Michael stared at the carpet, hoping no weapons were in her reach, steeling himself against any projectile that may be hurled in his direction.
Fiona took the letter as if it could detonate at any time. She held it at arm's length, reading but not truly believing the printed words. When she reached the end, she made an attempt to hand it to Michael, so that he could read of his son's folly. Michael was immobile! In fact, he was holding his breath. Then it dawned on her - he knew! Not only did he have this knowledge but also he kept it from her! "Michael, may I speak to you for a minute - alone?" Her voice belied the anger that flashed in her eyes. This was when she was the most dangerous. He was reluctant to move but refusing would ensure even greater wrath. He stood up, making eye contact with Charlie who gave him a weak smile in solidarity.
"I'll just go to my room. Schoolwork and all. Don't want to get behind" Charlie rose slowly from the chair. He wished to quickly exit the scene, hoping his father would be able to diffuse the situation.
"Move a muscle from that chair, young man, and it may possibly be the last step you ever take." Fiona glared. Charlie received the message and immediately sat down. Surely, his mam was in jest, but just in case ...
Michael stared straight ahead, walking as if to the gallows, and followed her into the next room. She turned abruptly and faced him. No words were forthcoming as she waited for him to explain. The silence became increasingly uncomfortable as they stared into each other's eyes, each waiting for the other to speak. Finally, Michael broke, "I know I should have told you straight away."
Fiona's arms moved to her hips, "Then why didn't you. No secrets, remember?"
"We were wrong." Michael hoped the apologetic approach would work. "Charlie approached me with the idea a couple of months ago."
"A couple of months!" Michael watched Fiona's body grow rigid. Perhaps, full disclosure was not in everyone's best interest. He quickly made adjustments to his approach. "Charlie began to have reservations about leaving home. He thought maybe he should defer his admission for a year, help out in the garage, maybe do a little travelling." Fiona's posture began to soften. Michael was encouraged to continue, "He wasn't sure if his deferral would be accepted. If it wasn't, he was afraid it would upset you, thinking about his reluctance to leave, his fear of homesickness ..." He stopped spinning this tale and waited for Fiona to process his statements.
"The poor lad!" Fiona glanced toward the direction of her son. Michael breathed a sigh of relief, believing the tide had turned in his favour. He gave a comforting smile and reached toward her, planning to swoop her into his arms for a loving embrace.
Fiona had other ideas. She pushed him away, knocking him into the nearby wardrobe. Michael looked perplexed. "The poor lad. When he comes home for a visit, he'll have no where to sleep as his da will be takin' over his bed ... or would ya prefer the sofa." Michael realised his ruse had completely failed. "Spies are supposed to be good liars. You've been outta the game for quite a while, Michael Westen, and you have rusted beyond all measure." She stormed out of the room as Michael groaned, scrambling to think of a Plan B.
Fiona ignored Charlie as she reentered the room. She was pleased to see that he remained in place. She busied herself in the kitchen stealing sideways glances at her son. She noticed his slumped shoulders and his expression of worry, hating to be the cause of her displeasure. Michael slipped into the room unsure if he should approach Fiona, his demeanour apologetic. Both men exchanged glances. Charlie shrugged his shoulders indicating to Michael he was totally lost as to what to do or say to improve the situation.
The sound of wine being poured into a goblet could be heard within the stillness of the cottage. Fi emerged holding two glasses of her favourite red wine. She walked over to Michael, wordlessly offering him a glass. He appreciated the gesture, recognising it as a peace offering, of sorts. "Thought those both might be for you." There was a twinkle in his eye as he broached the subject. Fiona made no retort but took a sip of the beverage as she made her way to the sofa. She looked at Michael, indicating that he should join her. Michael was wary. Fi's mood seemed to have shifted. She no longer appeared to be in a murderous rage but a part of him wondered if it could be a trap. He mustered the courage to put on a smile and take his place at her side, his instincts on high alert, ready for the first whiff of danger.
"Let's start again, shall we?" Fiona opened the conversation. "What's going on, Charlie? A gap year? I thought you were quite excited about going to university." Fiona had clearly put aside her anger, at least temporarily. Charlie saw concern in her eyes. She was ready to listen. He began to relax as he began to explain.
"It's like I've told you before. I want to see more of the world; all the places you've told me about - Paris, Milan, Berlin." He paused, "Once I start university, I'll be bogged down with my studies, trying to earn a few euros here at the garage during holiday breaks... I may never get to travel beyond Ireland." Fi could understand this wish. She often felt confined on the isle, missing the lure of the Continent and beyond. This wasn't the first time Charlie had wanted to spread his wings. Charlie recognised the look in his mam's eyes, thinking of that earlier time and the consequences that resulted from his travels. He took her hand in his. "No worries, mam. I'm ready this time." His voice, no longer that of a child, spoke with conviction and sincerity.
And it was true, he was ready. Charlie's education encompassed more than his college academics after the family's encounter with Thomas O'Neill and his associates three years earlier. Charlie, no longer unaware of his parents' complex past, had embraced all the knowledge they were willing to impart. No longer keeping their past in the shadows, Michael and Fiona answered every question with not only words, but often with actions, as well. It began with gaming. Charlie, an avid player, gleaned what he could from Michael. Side-by-side, they worked the controls of the virtual world as they discussed strategy and tactics. His education was not limited to video games. On their shopping trips to Limerick and Cork City, Fiona taught Charlie how to 'tail' someone whether it by on foot or by a vehicle. Charlie was becoming quite adept after his 'training'.
Charlie no longer avoided Michael and Fiona's trips to the gun range. He learned how to use every type of weapon in their arsenal. That experience was coupled with copious discussions of safety concerns for himself and others. It also included an exploration of moral and ethical issues related to the use of that particular skill set. Charlie learned the proper care and maintenance of whatever gun he was using for practice. Fiona and Charlie often made a game of dissembling and assembling each handgun. Speed, accuracy, and often adverse conditions like darkness or weather provided additional challenges for them to contend with, while Michael presided as judge.
Michael taught Charlie Russian, as well as Spanish, discovering the youngster had a facility for languages. Meanwhile, Fiona provided instruction in alternate uses for many household chemicals. Unfortunately, he was unable to put much of this information to practical use as a few of his early efforts resulted in fireballs or concussive sounds that disconcerted the neighbours. He had mentally tucked away that knowledge for future use.
Both of his parents spent quality time together searching databases for past acquaintances, those who were friendlies and those who were not. They shared this research with Charlie giving him lists of potential enemies, allies, and assets should the unexpected occur. They had prepared him for the future, whether they were present in it or not.
The past three years had flown swiftly by. While Charlie was growing up they feared exposure, now they revelled in a life with few secrets, strengthening the bond with their son as he approached adulthood. Charlie clearly understood that danger was just a breath away. He had learned that through experience. Now, he possessed skills to help him avoid that eventuality and techniques to protect himself if that was not possible. He truly was ready to spread his wings.
Fiona stared at the hand that held hers, a boy's hand no longer. She lifted her eyes to meet Charlie's and shook the past aside, "And where will you stay during this jaunt of yours? Don't give a thought to using your university money!" Her voice indicated that this point was non-negotiable.
"I wouldn't give it a thought." Charlie smiled. "I won't need much. I plan on couch surfing for much of the time. Maybe pick up an odd job here and there."
"Couch surfing?" Michael looked at Fiona. They rolled their eyes thinking simultaneously that plan had significant tactical risks.
Charlie could easily read his parents' expressions and quickly spoke before further objections were raised. "It's only for a year. I hope to visit friends who are studying on the continent. Other mates, like Donal, plan to join me over holiday breaks." He paused, clearing his throat before continuing. "I'm going to do this. I need to do this. I hope it's to be with your blessing, but if it's not ..." His voice drifted away but the message was delivered.
Fiona brought her attention to Michael who made a hardly perceptible nod of his head. She stood up and walked away without a sound. Charlie closed his eyes and wiped his hand over his face, a gesture clearly picked up from Michael, often used in time of utter frustration. He feared his plea had been ignored, that no support, at least from his ma, would be forthcoming.
When he opened them, he saw an outstretched hand holding a glass, offering it to him.
"Here." Fiona offered him the glass. Charlie was confused by her actions. Then, Michael moved closer, picked up the bottle of wine from the table, and poured a bit into Charlie's empty glass.
He set the bottle down and picked up his own glass. Fi and Michael stood before him, glasses in hand.
Michael turned to Fiona, then toward Charlie. "To new beginnings!"
Fiona repeated, "New beginnings," her voice not so exuberant.
Charlie raised his glass, a huge smile on his face, relief coursing through his body. "Slainte!" His grand adventure was about to begin.
