Warning: Rated for language and violence.
The main characters of this story are based on characters from the cartoon 'Code Lyoko.' I do not own, nor do I claim, any copyright to these characters.
Author's Note:this story takes place during 'Uncle Sam's Misguided Children."
O o O
To Almighty Tallest Angie: I hope you enjoy it.
O o O
Jim Moralés was sitting at his desk looking over his student progress reports, making any last minute corrections before he turned them in. Mr. Delmas, Kadic Academy's Principal, had reminded him this morning that his reports were late, and he needed them by lunch time so they could complete the quarter's grading period.
Just as he completed the last report, his phone rang.
"PE, Moralés," he spoke in the phone.
"Jim, I need you to come to my office immediately," said the voice of Mr. Delmas.
"Yes, sir! I'll have those reports to you instantly sir!" Jim replied, thinking that was why the principal called.
"That's fine, Jim, but that is not why I need to see you. Please come here as quick as you can."
"Right away, sir!" Jim replied as he hung up the phone.
He quickly gathered up the progress reports and left for the Principal's Office. He was worried, however. Even though Mr. Delmas told him it wasn't about the late progress reports, Jim was afraid that it was, or something else. There were times that Jim thought that the principal didn't like him too well, and was looking for an excuse to fire him. Of course, there were times that Jim probably deserved to be fired, but the principal had stood up for him. The only thing the PE teacher could do is go to the office and take what comes.
When he got there, the secretary told him to go right in. He did, and walked right up to Mr. Delmas' desk and handed him the progress reports.
"Thank you Jim, I appreciate your efforts," Mr. Delmas said, "now please take a seat. I would like to introduce you to someone."
Jim turned around to take the proffered seat when he saw another man sitting there. In his rush to get the papers to the principal, he totally ignored the man.
"Jim, this is Master Gunnery Sargent Taylor Thompson, from the United States Embassy. Mr. Thompson, Jim Moralés, my Physical Education teacher."
The man stood up and extended his hand. Jim took it and shook it, while regarding the man. Thompson was a big man, strong from years of hard work, or so it looked. His eyes looked straight at Jim's, evaluating what he saw, but making no judgment. Though Mr. Delmas introduced him as a soldier, the man was wearing a civilian suit.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Moralés," Thompson said in passable French.
"It is alright to speak English, if that is more comfortable to you," the principal said in English, "if I remember correctly, Jim is an American himself."
"Yes sir," Jim said, "born and raised in Southern California."
"I'm from South Alabama myself," Mr. Thompson said, "so, what's a California boy doing in a French boarding school?"
"It's a long and sordid tale, I'm afraid," Jim replied, "something I wouldn't want to bore the Master Gunnery Sargent with."
"Well, maybe some other time," Thompson replied.
"Well," Mr. Delmas said, "to business. Jim, Mr. Thompson has come asking to use some of the school's facilities. Particularly the gym and the track."
"What for?" Jim asked.
"I'm sure you know what happened to two of your students a few weeks back," Thompson said.
"You mean, Jeremie Belpois and Aelita St..., I mean Hopper?" Jim replied, "yeah. Tough break. They're both too good to have fallen into something like that."
"I agree," Thompson replied, "you're aware of what's happened since then?"
"Not a lot," Jim said, "I know both of them are having problems coping with the aftermath. It's really hit Aelita hard. It was a very bad wake up call to the real world for her."
"Agreed," Mr. Delmas said, "they both have been talking to the school psychologist, but it doesn't seem to be helping. They seem fine around each other, and around their friends, but by themselves, they're a shambles."
"I'm aware of that," Mr. Thompson said, "I've had a conversation with Michael Belpois, Jeremie's father. Jeremie's beating himself up because he couldn't help Aelita and Miss Wilkerson that night, and nothing anyone else says can seem to change his mind. Anyway, Mr. Belpois asked me if I could possibly help the two kids. I agreed and had a talk with them a couple of days ago. As soon as I can get things set up, I would like to start training those two in self defense."
"Do you think that will really help?" Jim asked.
"It can help to give them a little of their self confidence back," Thompson replied, "and in Jeremie's case, maybe demonstrate to him that there was truly nothing he could have done that night."
"Why you? Why can't Jim give them the training?" Mr. Delmas asked.
"I don't know," Thompson replied then turned to Jim, "what are your qualifications?"
"I'm a black belt in karate," Jim said, "but I'm not entirely sure I could train them. It's been a while."
"My question still stands Mr. Thompson, why you?"
"Michael Belpois and I go way back. He has pulled my fat out of the fire on more than a few occasions, and I owe him big time for it. Also, it was two of my Marines that helped the kids out that night. So, in a way, I'm already involved. But if you say no, it's over. I'll find some other way."
"Jim, would you have a problem with Mr. Thompson working with Jeremie and Aelita?"
"No sir, as long as it doesn't interfere with their other studies," Jim said.
"That's another thing I wanted to bring up," Mr. Thompson said, "one of the things I told them was I would be keeping an eye on their grades, and I would stop if they started slipping. Now I'm not asking to see their records, well, not yet anyways, but I would like to know it if their academics start dropping once we start."
"I shouldn't have any trouble with that, Mr. Thompson. Why would you need to see their records, anyway?" Mr. Delmas asked.
"I'll have to run a background check on them, as well as the staff here. It won't be intrusive, but anytime Embassy personnel have to interact on a regular basis with the locals, we have to do a check for security purposes. Especially since it's Embassy Guard personnel we're talking about here. I'll also be dropping off some information on myself and the others who will probably be working with me, so you will have a feel of who is interacting with your students. And, here is the telephone number of my commanding officer, General Maxwell. If you ever have a question about any of our conduct here, feel free to contact him." With that, Mr. Thompson handed Mr. Delmas a business card, with General Maxwell's contact information on it.
"And your general is all right with you doing this?" Mr. Delmas asked,
"Yes sir, he is,' Mr. Thompson replied, "General Maxwell knows Mr. Belpois too. And as long as it doesn't interfere with my duties, he's fine with it."
"Jim, do you have any objections?" Jean-Pierre asked the gym teacher.
"No sir, not really," Jim replied, "I would like to stay informed as to what Mr. Thompson is doing with the kids, and I would like to monitor a few of their sessions. I'm a little concerned about how Jeremie is going to acclimate. He's not the most active kid in the world, from what I've seen."
"Not a problem," Mr. Thompson said, "I'll give you a call before I come by; that way you can observe us, or join us if you want. I'll also need to get with you for access to some of the school's equipment and facilities, but that can wait for another time."
"Then I think that the matter is settled," Mr. Delmas said, "Mr. Thompson, I wish you good luck with Jeremie and Aelita. They're two of our brightest students, and this episode has greatly hurt them both. I pray you can do what we haven't been able to."
"I hope so too," Mr. Thompson said as he got up to leave. Jim and Mr. Delmas also rose, shook Mr. Thompson's hand again, and the American left the office, with Jim close behind him.
Before he left, Mr. Thompson handed Jim a card. "Here's my contact information," he said, "in case you need to get in touch with me." The big man smiled and then left.
O o O
Jim was walking by the teacher's lounge after his meeting when he heard someone inside, crying softly. He looked in and saw the science teacher, Suzanne Hertz, sitting at a table, weeping.
"Suzanne, is everything okay?" he asked from the doorway. She looked up, her eyes red and puffy from the tears and replied, "don't worry, Jim. I'll be okay."
He walked in and went over to her. "Are you sure? You don't look okay to me."
"It's nothing, a personal matter," she replied. She then looked at the clock on the wall and said, "oh! I'd better get home!" She got up, went over to her locker, took off her lab coat and got her purse.
"Suzanne, if you need to talk to someone, I'd be glad to..."
"I said I'll be all right!" she shouted at the PE teacher, then ran from the lounge.
Jim stood there a moment longer, mentally kicking himself for pushing too hard, then went his way.