THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST
Growing Pains IV:
The Time of His Life
by
Debbie Kluge
Benton Quest walked out of the Rockport General Store into the late afternoon sunshine and looked around. It was beautiful. After what seemed to be an interminable winter, the temperature was now a balmy 72?, the air was heady with the scent of spring flowers, and the sky was a lovely, cloudless blue. People strolled up and down the street in a leisurely fashion, enjoying the absolutely perfect May day. Several of them waved and called out to Benton cheerfully. Smiling stiffly, he returned the gesture then opened his car door, dropped the three bags of groceries into the back seat and slammed the door with a bit more violence than he had intended. He glared at it for a moment before circling the car and getting into the driver's seat.
Everyone is too damned cheerful today, Benton thought to himself sourly as he started the car engine. It's just another day. So the sun is shining for the first time in a week. So what? He put the car in gear and pulled out into the street, rolling slowly to a halt again at the stop sign at the corner. He just wasn't in the mood to socialize.
Life hadn't been easy during the last 18 months. First there had been the chaos brought by Brandon Simmons and his situation. Benton had no more than gotten Jonny back on his feet following that incident when Richard Baxter and his bunch had set their sights on Quest Compound. When the dust finally settled after that fiasco, he had been left with Hadji injured and half their home blasted into rubble. And unbeknownst to him, in the middle of that business, the damage done by Smallwood's mind control chip had begun to overwhelm him. By March, that had exploded and his behavior toward Jonny and Jessie drove both of them away. There were still gaps in his memory, but enough of the events of those months had returned for him to know that he was damned lucky to be here at all, let alone have any of the kids alive and speaking to him.
In the months since he awakened from his coma to find Jonny standing over him, he had quietly struggled to put the bits and pieces of his memory back together. It had been a painstaking process that was still incomplete because everyone had been reluctant to discuss it with him. Even Barbara Mason, who usually supported his desire to know and understand all that had transpired, finally drew the line and told him firmly to quit pushing. Using what little his family was willing to tell him, the records from IRIS' archive - those Race hadn't gotten to first and purged in a misguided attempt to protect him from the uglier aspects of his behavior - and newspaper accounts of the events in Bangalore, Benton had come to realize just how close he had come to losing all of them. Just thinking about it made him feel like crawling into a corner, curling up in a fetal position, and hiding from the world. And the reality was that it wasn't really over yet.
Race and Estella were slowly but surely becoming accustomed to having a new child to raise, but that transition had been a difficult one. Estella had nearly died giving birth to Emily, and for some weeks following the birth, she was so weak she could barely get out of bed. Part of the problem was the result of a severe case of post partum depression that had set in a few days following the birth. It had taken the full support of all of them to pull her out of it, but at least she now appeared to be mostly back to normal.
The days following the birth hadn't been easy for Emily, either. Born almost two full months early, she had only weighed about two pounds and had spent the first three weeks of her life in an incubator. She had only been home for a few days when a sudden case of jaundice set in and the newborn had ended up back in the hospital again, leaving her already strained parents on the edge of collapse. But once again, little Emily had shown her heritage and had beaten the odds by surviving. Now, she was growing like a weed and was Race and Estella's pride and joy.
Hadji and Kefira were still in Bangalore, struggling to establish the new government. The first round of elections were slated to begin in July with the last one - the presidential election - scheduled to be held in mid-October. The new president would take office at the first of the year, and following a short period of transition, Hadji and his wife would be free to return to the United States for good. Both were saying that they should be home by no later than mid-February, but considering some of the problems they were having getting the people to accept this new form of government, Benton had his doubts.
And that was just their professional headaches. The young couple had their personal ones, as well. No matter how much both he and Race tried to stress their willingness to take care of Kefira's sister and brother, the pair had made it clear that they saw that task as their responsibility. Initially, Maia and Vassey had remained at Quest Compound, slowly adjusting to their new life in the States. But witnessing the death of their parents had left a deep-seated scar that neither child was coping with well. After seven months, Vassey still wouldn't talk. Even his bond with Race hadn't been enough to break through the trauma, and as the weeks progressed things went steadily downhill. Hardly a night went by that the child didn't wake in the wee hours of the morning, screaming incoherently at some undisclosed nightmare. And the normally placid Maia was just as bad in her own way. As Benton had improved, it seemed as though her anchor to her new life had been removed. She wandered the house, dazed and listless, and it wasn't unusual to find her sitting almost lifeless in a chair, staring blindly out a window at nothing. Benton suspected that what she saw had nothing at all to do with the scene on the other side of the glass.
Barbara Mason, the family's physician, checked on them regularly, and had even recommended a child psychologist, but nothing seemed to help. It was as if both children were locked into a past that simply wouldn't release them. Finally, in desperation, Hadji and Kefira had made the decision that it was time to shake things up. If the two children couldn't come to terms with what had happened while in a safe and sheltered environment, it was time for them to confront it head-on. Against everyone else's better judgment, the two had come back to Maine, picked up the children, and taken them back to Bangalore with them. Benton had no idea how that was working out. The most Hadji would say was that the situation was a difficult one and they were all still adjusting. Knowing Hadji's tendency toward understatement, Benton suspected life on that front was just one step away from a total nightmare.
Of course, in Benton's opinion, the situation his youngest son found himself in wasn't much better. Jonny still clung tenaciously to his job, working 12-15 hour days, turning down any assistance from his father, and obstinately refusing to consider quitting or cutting back on his hours to go to college. Benton found the entire situation all but intolerable. Jonny was brilliant in his own way and Benton was convinced that there was no limit to his potential. But he also knew that for his son to take advantage of that potential, Jonny was going to have to have more than a high school education. Unfortunately, Benton had learned very, very quickly that he didn't dare push. The issue of school and his relationship with Jessie Bannon were the two main points that had caused the explosion between father and son last March. Everyone now understood that Benton's behavior was driven by Smallwood's tampering, but his concern for his son's future and the choices he was making were not. And while most of the hard feelings between the two of them had been laid to rest, these two topics still weren't open to debate.
Then there was Jessie. Since Christmas, things had improved between them slightly. At least she was talking to him now, and when Jonny came home to visit, she generally came with him. In rare, unguarded moments, she exhibited her old warmth, but those instances were few and far between. Most of the time, she was politely cordial and would often help out in the lab when they were home, but under that pleasant façade, he could still sense that roiling mistrust of everything he did or said. She was particularly defensive when it came to anything to do with Jonny. Benton recognized the signs – she was watching . . . weighing him based on everything he said or did. He supposed he deserved that mistrust, but that didn't make it any easier to live with. Sometimes he just wanted to scream at her . . . demand to know what he had to do to prove to her that what had happened would never occur again. But he knew better. Her inability to let it go wasn't her fault. It was just the way she was built. He'd seen the same traits in both Race and Estella at various times, and he understood that the behavior was rooted in Jessie's love and loyalty to Jonny. All he could do was give her time and try his best to prove that no matter how much he might disagree with Jonny's choices, he recognized that they were his to make and the most he could do was to be supportive. So whether he liked it or not, discussion of Jonny's continuation in school was now a forbidden subject and would not be brought up again until Jonny raised it himself.
The sharp toot of a car horn brought Benton back to reality and he realized that he was still sitting at the stop sign holding up traffic. He waved apologetically to the car behind him and made the turn out onto Highway 1.
No, life hadn't been easy . . . for any of them. That was why, when an old friend of Race and Estella's had called, suggesting that they take some time off and go out west to visit, he had insisted that they take advantage of the opportunity and go. Neither had been particularly comfortable with the idea of leaving him all alone, but he refused to listen to their arguments. "I'm a grown man," he had told them sternly. "I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself for a few weeks." They'd argued for days about it, but in the end, he had won. Race and Estella had packed up Emily and headed for Arizona for two weeks. And now, two days after they had gone, he found himself at loose ends and feeling totally abandoned.
"You're feeling sorry for yourself," he said sternly. "This has to stop."
If the truth was known, the trip to town had probably been an unconscious effort to break out of the funk he'd found himself caught up in since Race and Estella had left. Unconsciously, he shook his head, remembering the conversation he had overheard between Race and the boys about the situation, and how irritated he had been. Race was only concerned about you, he scolded himself. The fact was, the entire family had been concerned when they found out that Benton would be left home alone. In a continuing series of phone calls and individual confrontations, they had all argued with him, insisting that he not stay in the huge mansion by himself. In the end, the only thing that shut them all up was the implication that he had called Prasad and Madame Fornier to arrange a meeting. Benton grimaced. He knew they would all check up on that eventually, and he also knew they would be more than a little upset when they found out it was a lie. The truth was he'd never contacted either one of them, nor had he ever intended to.
Benton sighed. This was a test . . . a test for himself. He needed to know how he would cope with being on his own again. For the first time since he married Rachel almost 21 years before, he was alone. He also knew that this was simply the first instance of something that was going to become more and more common in the coming years. Could he deal with it? He really didn't know . . . but it was time to find out.
Two days later, twilight was just turning the sky a deep, dusky violet-blue when IRIS announced, "A VEHICLE HAS TURNED OFF ONTO THE ACCESS ROAD TO THIS FACILITY."
The only response was silence. Benton continued to sit in the growing darkness, staring blindly out the study window toward the sea. The sense of emptiness and gloom was palpable. After a time, IRIS said,
"ACCESS THROUGH THE MAIN GATE HAS BEEN GRANTED TO BARBARA MASON."
Still, Benton didn't respond. Finally, when the front doorbell rang, he stirred. He considered asking IRIS to tell his visitor that he wasn't home, but dismissed the idea almost as soon as it occurred to him. He'd moved the car around to the front drive this morning with the intention of getting out of the house for a while, but he'd just never found the energy. So it was unlikely that Barbara would buy the fib. Furthermore, she knew that IRIS was programmed not to let anyone other than family members or Mrs. Evans in the front gate when no one was in the house or on the grounds. So, short of insulting her, he couldn't avoid seeing what she wanted.
Rising slowly, he moved dejectedly down the hallway from his study toward the front foyer. The doorbell sounded again just as he entered the huge, vaulted entryway. With a sigh, he flipped on the light and moved to the front entrance. With an effort, he smiled as he opened the door. "Hello, Barbara. What a pleasant surprise." The woman who stood on his doorstep was of medium height, with a slender build, and shoulder-length, dark hair that was lightly touched with silver. She had dark, expressive eyes that lit up when she smiled and a calm, confident manner that had been known to reassure the most terrified of patients. She was lovely in a mature, elegant, understated way. Today, she was dressed casually in a pair of peach-colored shorts, a matching print top and running shoes, and her hair was wind blown. Benton's chuckle was considerably less forced as he looked her up and down and added, "I would guess that this is not a business call. It doesn't look like you've just come from the office."
"No one sick today, thank heavens," she laughed. "The good weather has given everyone a boost, so business has been slow. Not that I'm complaining, you understand. For a doctor, slow business means you're doing your job." She reached out and picked up a box that was sitting to one side of the door. "Actually, I'm on delivery detail today."
"Delivery detail?" he asked, taking the box from her and stepping back so she could enter. He crossed the foyer to set the box on a table as Barbara closed the door. Then she followed him as he waved her toward the family room.
"Yes. It's the baskets that Estella ordered. You remember . . . the ones the school was selling as a fund raising project for the music program? Estella bought a bunch of them for gifts . . . stockpiling for Christmas and birthdays, I think. They came in and since there really wasn't space to store them at the school, I said I'd run them by here this evening."
"That's very kind of you, but it wasn't necessary. I would have been happy to come into town and pick them up."
She smiled at him. "I know you would, but to be honest, it was such a lovely evening I welcomed the excuse to get out for a while." She glanced around. "But where is everyone? I don't think I've ever been in this house when it was so quiet."
"Oh, I'm on my own for a while," he replied lightly, trying to sound nonchalant. "Hadji and Kefira are still in Bangalore, Jonny and Jessie are at home in Boston, and Race, Estella and Emily are off visiting friends."
Benton saw her forehead draw up in a slight frown of concern as she asked, "And Mrs. Evans? Surely she's here."
He laughed. "No, she's gone too. It's just me . . ." The laughter sounded forced, even to himself, and he saw her frown deepen slightly. Hastily, he gestured toward a chair and added, "Won't you sit down? Can I offer you something?"
"No, thank you. I really can't stay. As I said, I just stopped by to drop this stuff off . . ." She trailed off, looking at him intently. "Benton, are you all right?"
"Of course I'm all right," he replied a bit irritably. "Why wouldn't I be?"
She looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment. Finally, she shook her head. "No reason. I was just wondering. After all, it is a big house for one person . . ."
"I'm fine. I've been using the time to catch up on some work. The peace and quiet is good for that."
"Yes, I'm sure it would be," she agreed after a moment. "Well, I guess I had better run."
"You're sure you won't stay for a while?" Benton heard the desperation in his voice and winced internally. "I wouldn't mind the company. A person can only take just so much peace and quiet . . ." he finished lamely.
She smiled regretfully. "I wish I could, but unfortunately, I've got a dinner date tonight and if I don't get going, I'm not going to be ready when he comes to pick me up."
"Oh? Anyone I know?" he asked quizzically.
Barbara shook her head. "No. He's not local."
"Oh." An awkward silence fell between them. Finally, as she turned to go, he added, "Well, I hope you have a pleasant evening." He followed her to the front door and opened it.
"Thank you. I'm sure we will." She hesitated on the threshold, then turned back to him again. "Benton, are you sure you're all right? You don't seem quite like yourself this evening."
"I'm fine," he said again, taking her elbow and escorting her out to her car. He held the door as she settled in behind the wheel and then shut it firmly. "You drive carefully."
"I will," she replied. Then she lay her hand over his where he still held the door. "Call me. With you being footloose and fancy free for a few days, maybe we can get together and do something."
"That sounds nice. I'll see what I can do." He stepped back and waved at her. "Have a pleasant evening."
As she pulled away, he saw her wave and her voice drifted back to him, "Good night!"
He stood on the flagstones watching her drive away, until the trees swallowed up the gleaming red taillights of the car. Then, feeling even more despondent than before, he turned and went back into the silent house, turning the light out once again.
It was 7:45 the next morning and Benton was lying in bed feeling sorry for himself again when the phone began to ring. He rolled over and peered at the clock in surprise before snaring the receiver from its cradle on the bedside table, and settling onto his back again. "Hello?"
"Benton?" a familiar voice questioned.
"Good morning, Doug. How are you?"
"I'm fine," Doug Sanderson replied. "I'm sorry to be calling so early, but I was hoping to catch you before you got involved in something."
"Not a problem. What can I do for you?"
"To be honest, I'm hoping to recruit you."
"Recruit me? For what?"
"I don't know if you're aware of it or not, but a bunch of us have gotten together and started a Habitat For Humanity program here in the area."
"Yes, I read about it. You've even managed to get outside funding, I believe. Congratulations. That's a wonderful program."
"Thank you. It's a match grant through a joint commission set up by several towns in the area. The commission administers the program and the federal government provides matching funds for everything we manage to raise. It's really helped get the project off the ground. But we've run into a snag and I'm hoping you can solve it."
"How can I help?"
"You can be on the development committee. We need an engineer . . . someone who can understand building codes, technical specs, blueprints, geologic site maps, and the like and can help us wade through bureaucracy."
"Sounds to me like you need a contractor, not a computer engineer."
"No, we've got a contractor. Milt Neece from Camden is acting as the project's building contractor. He's a good man. Give him the site, the blueprints, and the materials and he can build anything."
Benton nodded to himself. "I know him. He did most of the reconstruction work on our house after that fiasco a year ago last Christmas."
"They don't get any better," Doug agreed. "However, bureaucracy and paperwork he simply won't deal with. I need someone who can be involved in getting the permits, negotiating the land acquisition and the like. You may call yourself a computer engineer, but I happen to know that you have experience in civil engineering, as well. And I've seen the way both of your sons read geologic and topographic maps and blueprints. Someone taught them that skill and it sure wasn't Rockport High School."
Benton chuckled involuntarily. "I've had my share of experience with them."
"So what do you say? Can you find the time to work with us on this?"
"Have you been talking to Barbara Mason?" Benton asked suspiciously.
"Barbara?" Doug asked, sounding confused. "No. Should I have?"
Embarrassed, Benton laughed. "No. She just knows that I've got some free time right now and I thought she might have mentioned it to you, that's all."
"Oh. No, actually you did . . . in a somewhat roundabout way. You commented to me a couple of weeks ago that you don't have any field projects planned at the moment. You normally have so much going on and travel so much that people around here don't like to impose and ask you to take on anything else."
Benton sighed. "Doug, just because I'm busy doesn't mean I'm not willing to be involved in things here at home. Trust me, if I don't think I can juggle the workload, I'll let you know."
"Fair enough. In that case, would you be willing to contribute a little expertise to this project? It shouldn't be too time consuming."
Benton thought about it for a moment, and then replied, "Sure. Why not? I can make the time. Where and when?"
"Great! We're getting the organization committee together today over lunch. Can you make it to Cappy's in Camden at, say 11:30?"
"I'll be there," Benton promised.
"Wonderful! We'll see you then!"
Benton had no more than hung up the phone when it began to ring once more. He grabbed it again and said, "Hello?"
"Benton Quest please."
"Speaking."
"Oh, Dr. Quest, this is Marcie Donaldson of the Talieson Institute in Boston. How are you today?"
"Just fine, Ms. Donaldson. How may I help you?"
"I'm Dr. Lewis' assistant here at the Institute, and he asked that I call you and find out if there is any possible way we might be able to get your paper on the applications of computer modeling in art museums a little early? I know it's an inconvenience, but it would be of great benefit to us if we could include an excerpt of it in our publicity brochure for the exhibit that's being planned as part of the conference."
"How soon do you need it?" he asked with an inward sigh. This was a project he had been less-than-enthused about doing in the first place.
"By Friday?" she asked tentatively. It occurred to Benton that the poor woman sounded as though she almost expected to be slapped for asking . . . and knowing Edmund Lewis' temper, he couldn't say he blamed her. The man was all bark and no bite, but still, it couldn't be pleasant to be yelled at all the time. He thought about it for a minute. It was Tuesday morning. The only fixed activity he could remember having this week was the lunch meeting today, so he didn't see why he couldn't manage to get it for her.
"Yes, I should be able to have it for you. Will an e-mail do for Friday? I'll follow up with a hard copy by mail in publication format that you should have by the first of next week."
"Oh, that will be perfect! Thank you so very much, Dr. Quest. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it!"
"Yes, I suspect you do," he replied dryly. "Tell Edmund he owes me one."
"Yes, sir. I'll certainly tell him. Thank you, sir!"
"Goodbye, Ms. Donaldson . . ."
He hung up the phone and this time he didn't even have the chance to lie back down again before it rang. Shaking his head, he picked it up again. "Hello?"
"Hi, Dr. Quest. It's Matt Evans. I know it's a long shot, but is there any chance that Jonny might be around this coming weekend?"
"No, Matt, I'm sorry. He's wasn't planning on being home again until the Memorial Day weekend."
"Shoot. And I suppose Hadji isn't back from Bangalore yet, either."
"I'm afraid not. Is there anything I can do?"
"Well, maybe. You know that children's charity over in Camden that Bobby was involved with? The one that puts on the Christmas puppet show every year?"
"Yes."
"Well, they're hosting their annual spring outing for disadvantaged kids this Saturday. We're short one van and driver to have enough transportation for all of the kids that are signed up. I was hoping that Jonny, Hadji or Jessie would be around to help out and that we could use one of your vans."
"Well, you're covered now. I don't have anything in particular planned for Saturday and I'll be happy to be your last driver."
"You would? Gee, Dr. Quest, that's really great of you! I'll tell you what. Why don't I drop off the information to the Compound later this morning?"
"I have a better idea. I have a lunch meeting today in Camden. Why don't I run by your house and pick it up? It will save you a trip."
"Great! I'll see you then. Bye."
Hanging up the phone, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He might as well get up. The phone seemed determined to prevent him from going back to sleep. As if on cue, it rang again. For an instant, he considered letting IRIS pick it up. But even as the thought crossed his mind, his hand had lifted the receiver and he heard himself greeting the new caller.
"Benton Quest."
"Benton! I'm glad I reached you. It's Floyd." Floyd Jurgens, principal of the Rockport-Camden Junior/Senior High School, had a deep booming bass voice that caused Benton to wince and pull the phone back from his ear abruptly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"No, not at all, Floyd," Benton replied as he cautiously adjusted the volume on the phone and returned it to his ear. "What can I do for you?"
"Do you remember a couple of months ago when I mentioned to you that one of the members of the School Board was talking about retiring?"
Benton searched his memory and drew a total blank. "Uh, no, I can't say that I do. What about it?"
"Well Madeleine Carmichael called me this morning and made it official. She's made the decision to move to Arizona to join her daughter and she's resigned from the School Board, effective immediately. If you'll recall, she was just elected last fall for a four-year term, so we really can't leave the position vacant until it comes up for election again. The members of the Board have discussed it and the feeling is unanimous . . . we'd like you to replace her and finish out her term."
Benton blinked. "Me? On the School Board? But Floyd, my kids aren't even in school any longer. Jonny and Jessie just graduated."
"We've got more than our share of members with kids in the system. Madeleine was one of the few who didn't. For us, what was important was that she was a member of the Board of Trustees of the local community college. That's why we would really like you to join the Board. We know that you're on the boards of several different, very high profile universities, and that you are familiar with all of the current issues on secondary school education as it relates to university admissions standards. That's the expertise we need. We're really hoping that you'll accept the appointment."
"Floyd, you know that I travel a lot. I can't promise that I can make the Board meetings on a regular basis."
"Yes, we understand that. But your Foundation's most recent grant provided us with the funds to add teleconferencing capabilities in the high school. With that and the equipment that you say you routinely take with you on field expeditions, it wouldn't be a problem to satellite teleconference if you aren't around. Please, Benton. It would mean a great deal to the community and the welfare of the children if you could find the time to be able to do this."
"Well, if the Board members feel that strongly about it, then yes, I would be happy to accept the position."
"Wonderful! We've got a regular board meeting scheduled for Thursday evening at 7:00 p.m. I know it's rather short notice, but if you could make that one, we could make the appointment official and get you started."
"Hang on just a second, Floyd, and let me see what Thursday looks like." Putting the call on hold, he paused and wondered what was going on all of a sudden. Then, with a shrug, he said, "IRIS, would you check my calendar and see if I have anything scheduled for Thursday evening, please?"
Almost immediately the computer replied, "THURSDAY AFTER 4:00 P.M. IS AVAILABLE."
Benton stopped, thinking about that. "Do I have something scheduled earlier that day?"
"YOU HAVE A 1:00 P.M. CONFERENCE CALL WITH DR. YAMADA ON THE RESULTS OF THE LATEST TEST DATA ON YOUR JOINT SUPERCOMPUTER PROJECT."
"That's right. I'd forgotten about that. Have we received the raw data from Dr. Yamada yet?"
"NO."
"Send a note to him from me and gently remind him that if we're going to conference on it on Thursday I will need the data by no later than this evening to review."
"ACKNOWLEDGED."
"Oh, and add the School Board meeting on Thursday evening, the lunch meeting today and the children's charity thing on Saturday to the calendar."
"I HAVE ALREADY DONE SO."
"You are so efficient, IRIS. What would I do without you?" Stabbing the hold button again, Benton said, "Floyd? Thursday evening will be fine. Where do you need me to be and when?"
"Let's say 6:30 in my office at the high school. That will give us a few minutes to run down some things before the meeting."
"Fine. I'll see you then."
"Right. And thanks, Benton. We really do appreciate it."
"Not a problem . . ."
This time, he made it half way across the room before the phone rang again. Somewhat disgruntled, he turned back, thinking that if he didn't make it to the bathroom soon, he was liable to be really sorry.
"Quest Compound communication center. How may I direct your call?" he said somewhat sourly into the phone.
"Benton?" This time it was Barbara. "Is that you? Are you all right?"
"Of course I'm all right," he said irritably. "Is there a reason why I shouldn't be?"
"No, of course not. It's just –"
"It's just that this damned phone's been ringing off the hook ever since I woke up this morning. I haven't even managed to make it to the bathroom yet."
That caused her to laugh. "Then I'll keep this short. I wanted to know if you'd like to go sailing tomorrow. I've managed to rearrange appointments and bartered for coverage, so I'm not even on call. That's a rare treat and I decided to celebrate. A group of us are going to take a schooner up to Nova Scotia for the day and I thought you might like to join us."
Benton hesitated. "I don't know, Barbara. I don't want to intrude . . ."
"You wouldn't be, trust me. They'd welcome a sixth set of hands. The boat's good sized and manning it under full sail with only five people is pushing it a bit. We've done it before, but six people makes it a lot easier. Furthermore, a day out of the house would probably do you good."
"Speaking of that, let's talk about my getting out of the house for a minute, shall we? Tell me, Dr. Mason, exactly how many people did you tell that I'm on my own for a while?"
"No one," she replied in surprise. "Why?"
"Are you sure?" he said skeptically. "No one at all?"
"No!"
"Then why has my phone been ringing off the hook with people asking me to participate in things all of a sudden?"
"Did it ever occur you that it might be because folks around here respect your abilities and enjoy your company?"
"Oh, come on, Barbara. Give me a little credit. If that was the case, why did the calls just start this morning? You were the only one who knew that I was here by myself. I mean, even you . . . calling me out of the blue wanting to go sailing. You've been dithering about me ever since Race and Estella's wedding. I'm fine. It's not necessary for you set up special activities to get me out of the house or to warn the community that poor Benton's all alone and . . ."
"They didn't just start calling you this morning! People call on you all of the time. Since when have you decided to start being sensitive about being asked to help out in the community?"
"I'm not being sensitive . . ."
"The hell you aren't! And when was I supposed to have found the time to tell anyone? My date last night took me to Augusta for dinner, and I didn't get home until almost 1:00 in the morning. It's only 8:45 now, and I haven't even left the house yet. What do you think I did . . . ignored my dinner companion and spent the evening on my cellphone?"
"No, of course not . . ." Benton replied, backpedaling hastily.
"And what makes you think that I'd consider it my business to tell anyone your family is away, Benton Quest? Good God, no one around here knows better than I do just how dangerous your life can be."
"Okay, look I'm sorry . . ."
"Do you really think I'd go out and broadcast the fact that you're in that great big house all alone? Particularly after that business at Christmas a while back? You think I want to have a part in setting you up as a target for some wacko out there?!?"
By this time, Barbara was sounding seriously aggrieved and Benton tried desperately to interrupt so he could apologize. "No, of course not. I . . ."
"And for your information, I didn't set up the sailing date to get you out of the house. Someone else arranged that outing because they thought I needed a break. Do you see me getting upset at them because they showed a little concern? I would hope not! The only reason I called to invite you was because I thought you might enjoy going along. Next time, I'll try to remember not to waste my time!" And with that the phone clicked loudly in his ear.
"Well, damn . . ." Benton said aloud to no one in particular. Dropping the receiver back into the cradle, he turned back toward the bathroom again, wondering exactly how he had managed to mess that up so completely . . . and what the hell he was going to do to fix it.
Benton moved quickly up the street in Camden. It was 11:20 and he still had one stop to make before he made his way to Cappy's for his lunch meeting. He looked both ways and stepped off the curb in the middle of the block just as he heard someone call his name. Looking up, he spotted Doug Sanderson and his young daughter, Mica, standing almost directly opposite him on the other side of the street. Benton waved as a break in traffic gave him the opportunity to trot across to join them. The four-year-old squirmed determinedly in her father's firm grasp and as Benton approached, she reached out for him.
"Uncle Benton!" she crowed with delight.
Benton caught the little girl in his arms and returned her enthusiastic hug as Doug said apologetically, "I'm really sorry, Benton. I don't know where she picked that up. I've tried to tell her . . ."
Benton laughed and tweaked the child's nose. "Don't worry about it, Doug. I know where it comes from. Jonny and Jessie taught it to her as a joke. They told me that they considered trying to teach her to call me Grandpa Benton but decided I might get upset."
Doug just shook his head. "Those two. I swear. But aren't you heading the wrong direction? We're due over at Cappy's about now."
"Yes I know, but I need to make one more stop before I go over there." He gestured at the shop they stood in front of. "It should only take a minute."
Doug raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The florist? Did someone die that I haven't heard about?"
Benton snorted, slightly embarrassed. "No . . . only me, if I don't manage to make amends for my lousy temper this morning. With the lifestyle my family and I lead, it simply doesn't pay to have your family physician ticked off at you." With Mica still clinging tenaciously to his hand, he pushed open the door and strode into the shop. Doug followed along behind.
He waved cordially to Allison Chen, the owner of the shop, who came out from behind a table in the back to greet him. "Dr. Quest! How good to see you again. How can I help you today?"
"An apology gift, Allison . . . four dozen long-stemmed yellow roses in a crystal vase. And I'll need them delivered."
Allison raised her eyebrows in surprise, but controlled her urge to ask questions. "Certainly. I can have them out within the hour." She pulled an order ticket from under the counter and began writing quickly. "Who should they be sent to?"
"Barbara Mason."
Doug saw the woman check fractionally, and he didn't miss the quick, speculative look she shot the older man before she asked neutrally, "To her home or office?"
"Better send them to her office. I believe she's working all day today."
The woman nodded and pointed to a rack nearby. "The cards are over there."
Benton nodded and looked down at the little girl that still clung to him contentedly. "Will you go back to your daddy, Mica? I need to do something for a minute."
"No!" the child said forcefully, wrapping her arms around his leg and clinging even more tightly to him. "I want to stay with you!"
"Mica!" her father scolded her gently, reaching for her. "You promised me that if I brought you along, you would be good."
"But I want to stay with Uncle Benton!" she wailed, shoving Doug's hands away.
Benton saw Allison laugh as he told the child consolingly, "If you'll go to your daddy right now so I can do this card, I'll let you sit with me at the meeting, okay?"
"I can help," the little girl said eagerly.
"I'm sure you can, but I really think this is something I need to do all by myself. Go on. I'll only be a minute." Mica released him reluctantly as he turned to the rack, glanced over the cards quickly, and then selected one. He pulled a pen from his pocket and stood thinking for a minute. Then he began to write in his small, neat script. After several minutes, he had filled the entire inside of the card and turned it over to continue on the back. Finally, at the very bottom, he signed it with a flourish. Tucking it into the envelope, he sealed it carefully and handed it to Allison. "There. That should do it . . . I hope."
Allison and Doug exchanged a look, and Doug stifled the grin that threatened to spread across his face. He wondered if Benton had any idea what kind of grist he had just thrown into the rumor mill of this complex of small neighboring towns. Word that the wealthiest man on the entire Eastern seaboard just dropped a extremely large sum of money on flowers for a very lovely single lady who happened to be one of the most popular physicians in the Rockport/Camden area would spread like wildfire up and down the entire coast. By nightfall, everyone within 100 miles would know about it, and the story would have been embellished dramatically. No one would know or care why he had done it. It would be enough that he had. Doug almost shuddered to think of the speculation that would follow. Jonny had told him once that there were times when his father could be seriously clueless. Doug was inclined to think that this might just be one of those times.
Benton climbed out of his car at 7:00 that evening and gazed at the house in front of him with trepidation. After his lunch meeting, he had returned to the Compound and spent the afternoon working on the article for the Talieson Institute. By 6:00, he still hadn't heard from Barbara and he was beginning to be concerned. It wasn't like her to remain angry and he'd wondered uneasily if he'd erred even worse than he thought. He'd tried calling her at home, but had gotten her answering machine. Then he tried the office, thinking she might be working late, but again had gotten nothing but her machine. After a bit of hesitation, he'd even tried the local medical center where she was on staff, but they had informed him that she hadn't been in the hospital since she had made rounds early that morning. Finally, unable to sit still any longer, he'd gotten into his car and drove to her house. Now, he stood out front in the gathering darkness, staring at the lights that glowed invitingly from the windows and wondering if he was being an idiot.
"Go on, you coward," he urged himself. "You can't stand out here all night, and you certainly can't leave her angry at you."
Steeling himself, he strode up the walk, climbed the stairs to the porch and rang the bell. After a moment, he heard footsteps crossing the floor and then the door opened. This evening, Barbara was dressed in a pair of black capri pants and a black and white stretch knit top with a geometric pattern. Over her shoulder, he could just see the vase of roses sitting in the center of her dining room table. Before she had the chance to say a word, he blurted out, "I am a complete and total idiot who should be taken out back and shot for absolute stupidity. I am sincerely sorry for this morning. I was totally out of line. I know you better than that, and I don't know what I was thinking." He looked at her with a pleading expression. "Can you possibly forgive me?"
As Benton gazed at her, the corner of her mouth began to twitch and she finally erupted into laughter. Stepping back, she waved him inside and closed the door. "You're forgiven. In fact, you were forgiven the instant I set eyes on those flowers. Benton, they are positively gorgeous!"
"You liked them, then," he said, pleased.
"Liked them? I was the envy of everyone who set foot in the office today!" She came up and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you so much."
"You're welcome. Have you eaten yet? I thought I might continue my attempts to make amends for my foul temper by taking you to dinner."
"That sounds lovely, but I'm on call tonight."
"So call the hospital and give them your cell phone number. I thought we might try that new seafood place just this side of Rockland. It's nearby and I've heard good things about it."
"You know that if I get a call I'll have to leave right away," she warned.
"Yes, I know. I can deal with that if you can."
"All right. Let me get my shoes and a jacket." As she disappeared into the back of the house, Benton began wandering around gazing at the living room while he waited. He'd been in her house before, but had never really bothered to take in his surroundings. Like many houses in this area, it was old . . . probably built close to a hundred and fifty years ago . . . and under her care it had retained much of it's original character. It was two-storied with a gabled roof and gingerbread trim all around, and it had a wide veranda-style porch across the front. Inside, the rooms had lofty ceilings and each of the tall windows was topped with inset stained glass. Soft, lacey curtains framed the windows, and everywhere he looked he saw the warm glow of carefully tended hardwood. The rooms he could see were all furnished with good antiques that had obviously been selected with care, and the muted shades of blue and green carried from room to room effortlessly. There were a number of paintings hanging on the walls. He looked at them more closely and found they were all original watercolors done by local artists whose names he recognized. As he moved up to look at one of them more closely, he stopped and stared at the large framed piece that hung on the dining room wall. He moved slowly into the room and flipped on the light to get a better look.
Her voice was soft behind him. "The artist did a nice job, don't you think? He really captured the feel of the place."
"Yes, he did," Benton agreed. The two of them gazed at the isolated house perched atop the seacliff. The sky behind it was an intermittent pattern of blue sky and dark gray storm clouds and in the foreground, the lighthouse stood like a watchful sentinel. "That's just the way it appears as you approach it by sea. Even the elevated perspective is accurate. It was done recently, too, wasn't it? The Coast Guard only added the identification code on the seaward side of the lighthouse within the last couple of months. Where did you get it?"
"I bought it from the artist last month. He had a booth at the Rockland Spring Festival and it was on display there. He's new to the area and he told me that he had been sailing up the coast with some friends one day, just after a storm, and had spotted the house. He said it had made such an impression on him, that he was able to do most of the painting without even going back for a second look. When I saw it, I simply couldn't resist." She smiled at him. "It's yours if you want it. After all, it is your home."
Benton gazed at it for a moment longer before he shook his head. "No. You keep it. It looks right hanging there." Giving himself a slight shake, he smiled down at her. "All ready?"
"Yes . . . in more ways than one. I'm starved!"
"So am I!"
It was several hours later, as they sat leisurely over coffee, that Barbara asked quietly, "So are you going to tell me what was really bothering you this morning?"
Benton stared into his coffee cup for a long moment before looking up at her with a slightly twisted smile. "Exactly what you suspect was bothering me. I'd spent the prior two days wallowing in self-pity and when people started calling, I was forced back into the real world and I resented it." Benton shrugged. "I don't really know why. It's not generally in my nature to indulge in that kind of behavior, so why I clung to it so tenaciously this time . . . "
Barbara smiled at him gently. "Life's changing, Benton, and that's never easy. And all of us deserve the right to feel sorry for ourselves every once in a while. It's only when you refuse to let go of it that it becomes a problem. To be honest, I'm really surprised that Race and Estella took off and left you alone at all."
"Why?"
The look she gave him was measured and unflinchingly aware. Finally, she replied very softly, "Benton, I know a great deal more about you than anyone else in this area. I've been your physician since the day you and your family set foot in this town. For your welfare and that of your boys, you have to know that Race was more candid with me about your past than he would ever have been with anyone else. I know how hard your wife's death hit you, and how much of a struggle it was for you to come to terms with it." She saw him flinch and unconsciously draw back. Reaching across the table, she caught his hand and continued urgently in the same, soft tone. "Benton, don't pull away! It's right that you should have grieved over the loss of something so special." The words seemed to trigger some memory in her, and she paled slightly. Benton thought he saw a quick glimmer of tears as she bowed her head. "I . . . I've grieved over things in my past, too."
Benton moved, catching her hand in concern as she started to withdraw. "Do you want to tell me what happened? I can be a very good listener."
She took a deep breath, obviously shaken by the unexpected onslaught of memories and emotion. After a minute, she stole a quick glance at him, but shook her head. "No," she said and her voice broke unexpectedly. She cleared her throat and tried again. "No, I don't think so."
"Aren't you the one who's always saying that a person shouldn't bottle things up?" he responded, catching her chin and trying to get her to look at him.
She laughed weakly, but still refused to look up. "Physician, heal thyself? I know. Some other time, maybe. And I promise you I'm not pining. It was a long time ago and I was very young. It's just that sometimes, unexpected things will remind me."
"I understand," Benton replied in a tone that finally caused her to look him straight in the eyes. Whatever it was she saw there caused her to smile.
Squeezing his hand briefly, she released it and sat back. "That's why we make such good friends," she said, clearing her throat and forcing a light tone. "We understand each other." After another long moment, she returned to her earlier comment. "But you still haven't told me how you convinced them to leave you at home alone."
"They didn't want to, but I insisted. My family simply can't order their lives around me, Barbara. Race and Estella need the space to be able to build something for themselves, and if there's anything I've learned as a result the last several months, it's that my boys aren't children any longer. They need the freedom to strike out on their own without worrying about me. It's time I start adjusting to the idea that my life is my own again." His short bark of laugher sounded a bit sour. "I can't say I've done a particularly good job of coping so far, though."
"For pity's sake, Benton, give yourself a chance! How long have they been gone?"
"Hadji and Kefira took Maia and Vassey back to Bangalore last week." He shook his head ruefully. "You know, I never imagined I'd miss those two children as much as I do . . . not to mention Emily! That house feels like a tomb."
"What about Race and Estella?"
"They left three days ago."
Barbara snorted. "You've hardly even gotten your feet wet, yet. And I'd say you're doing pretty well, all things considered. I take it I must have been the last in a string of phone calls this morning. Did you snarl at anyone other than me?"
"No," he replied with a grin. "I saved that just for you."
Her laughter was warm as she bowed her head and said, "I'm honored. So tell me who called and what you've gotten yourself involved with." But before he could answer, the phone in Barbara's handbag rang. With a grimace, she reached down and picked it up.
"Dr. Mason. Uh huh. I see. How far along? Really?" Barbara sighed. "All right. I'm on my way. It will be about 10 minutes. Get her prepped and I'll join you shortly." Clicking the phone off, she tossed it in her bag and said regretfully, "I'm really sorry, but I have to go. One of my patients from Hope is expecting, and baby has chosen right now to make his appearance in the world. And from what the maternity nurses are telling me, the child is not being any too patient about having it over with."
Benton stood hastily and pulled out his wallet. Throwing a $50 bill on the table, he reached a hand out to her and replied, "Then we'd better get moving." As he guided her toward the door, he caught the waitress' eye and motioned toward the table. The girl glanced over and then nodded her thanks. Totally absorbed in the need to respond to the phone call, the exiting couple didn't notice the excited grin that spread across the waitress' face once they weren't looking her way, nor did they hear the enthusiastic chatter between the staff in the restaurant after they'd gone.
Barbara and Benton were quiet on the ride to Penobscot Bay Medical Center. As Benton pulled into the parking lot, Barbara turned to him with a smile and said, "Thank you for a lovely evening, Benton. And the flowers. Neither were really necessary, you know."
"Of course they were," he replied, pulling the car into a parking space near the emergency room entrance.
She looked at him in confusion as he turned off the engine and opened the door. "You don't need to come in. I can walk from here."
"I'm sure you can," he said as he came around the car and opened her door, "but given the choice, I would prefer to wait for you inside rather than out here in the car."
"Wait for me?" she sputtered. "Benton, I can't ask you to wait for me! I could be 30 minutes or I could be all night. There's no way to know."
"Well, I'm certainly not going to leave you here. You don't have your car, which means you have no way to get home once you're finished. My laptop is in the trunk along with all the paperwork for the HFH project that I got at the meeting today. Believe me, I have plenty to keep me occupied until you're done."
"But . . ."
"Come on," he said with a laugh, closing the trunk and drawing her after him toward the emergency room door. "If you don't hurry, that baby will be born without you. I'll be down in the main waiting room when you're finished."
Barbara just looked at him and shook her head before relenting. "All right. But you aren't going to sit in the waiting room. That's silly. You can use my office. There's even a jack for your laptop so you can dial in to IRIS if you need to."
"That's a deal. And on our way back to your place, we can finalize the plans for sailing tomorrow."
They were both laughing as they walked through the doors and greeted the staff.
"Where is she?" Barbara asked the nurse on duty.
"In birthing room two," the woman replied.
"Good. Call up and let them know I'm on my way. I've got a spare set of scrubs in my office. Come on, Benton . . ."
"See, I told you she was seeing him!" the woman at the registration desk hissed to the nurse as the couple moved away.
"I heard that he's sending her huge bouquets of red roses and love letters!" another one added.
The nurse stared after them in amazement. "Well, I'll be damned . . . so it is true . . . "
The next ten days were a whirlwind of activity. He attended several meetings for the HFH project, was officially appointed to the School Board and was assigned to three separate Board subcommittees - two of which met during those ten days - and played chauffeur for the children's charity outing. In addition, he finished two papers, reviewed the research data and participated in the teleconference with Dr. Yamada and his colleagues on the supercomputer project, and still found the time to go sailing with Barbara and her friends twice. He had been so busy, he hardly even knew what day it was.
Today, Benton and his new friends were heading south to watch a yacht race off the coast of Connecticut. Rather than sailing, they had decided to drive and Benton had offered to take the QuestStream so they could all travel together instead of having to take several vehicles. At that moment, he was shoving things around on his desk in irritation, hunting for his keys. I just had them! he fumed. Where could I possibly have left them?
Suddenly, from the front of the house, he heard the distinctive sound of the front door opening. He was just about to chide IRIS for not warning him that his guests had arrived when a familiar voice called out, "Benton, where are you? We're home!"
He paused blankly for a second before striding out of the study and up the hall to the foyer. When he arrived, he spotted two suitcases sitting just inside the door and through the open doorway, he could see Race unfastening the restraints on the child seat in the middle of the Quest minivan. Standing next to him, Estella waited to accept Emily once he had her free. In front of the vehicle, he could just see the backside of what could only be his youngest son. The top half was lost somewhere in the depths of the trunk of the bright red Jetta that was parked on the drive. Jessie stood on the far side next to a young man Benton had never seen. She appeared to be pointing out landmarks to the newcomer.
"You're back already?!" Benton exclaimed as Race and Estella came into the foyer. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
"No," Race replied, giving him a strange look. "Jonny and Jessie just decided they'd like to bring their friend Blake to visit, so rather than staying in Boston today, we decided to come on home. Is there a problem with us getting in a day early?"
"No, of course not. It's just that I didn't think you were due until the week of the 12th . . ."
"Benton, it is the week of the 12th," Estella interrupted, shifting the baby onto one hip and taking a step toward him. "Are you alright?"
Benton stared at her in astonishment. "It is? You've been gone for two weeks?"
Jonny, who had just come in the front door, frowned in concern and reached out, catching Benton's upper arm. "Dad, are you okay? What's wrong?"
As Benton gazed at his family's worried expressions, he was struck forcibly by the realization that things really had changed . . . for all of them. For the first time in many, many years, there was no one that depended on him. Loved him, yes . . . and worried about him . . . but not relied on him to survive. Through all of the hardships and loss, he had raised his two sons and watched his best friend find happiness again. They no longer needed him. Two weeks ago that thought would have terrified him, but now he found it to be curiously freeing. He really was on his own again for the first time in over 20 years and loving every minute of it!
Outside, he caught the flash of cars on the road leading to the house and a few moments later, he heard voices as Jessie greeted the newcomers in surprise. This time was a test, he reminded himself, A test to see if I could cope on my own. As he watched, Barbara appeared. She was smiling at Jessie and her warm laughter floated in through the open doorway as she introduced the people with her. Family . . . community . . . good friends. I have all the best things in life. And now, it's my turn . . . my turn to find a place of my own. Benton began to grin as the absurdity of his original fears struck him.
"Benton?" Estella questioned, laying her hand on his other arm.
He patted it and began to chuckle. "Sorry. I'm just a little disconnected this morning." Glancing over, he spotted his car keys lying on the entryway table. "There they are!" Shaking free of the two of them he crossed to the table in- two quick strides and scooped up the keys. When he turned back, he saw that Barbara had joined them in the entryway.
"Sorry, guys, I've been so busy recently, I completely lost track of time. It hadn't even dawned on me what day it was." He smiled at all of them. "It's really great to have you home again, but I'm afraid you're on your own today. I've already made other plans." Crossing to Barbara, he dropped a casual arm around her shoulders and turned her toward the door. "You can expect me when you see me . . . don't hold dinner." He paused on the threshold and looked back at his family again. Their stunned expressions caused him to laugh softly once more.
"Oh, and Jonny . . . don't worry about me. There's nothing wrong. In fact, everything is absolutely perfect. I'm having the time of my life!"
© 2000, 2003 Debbie Kluge
DISCLAIMER: The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest and all characters, logos, and likenesses therein, are trademarks of and copyrighted by Hanna-Barbera Productions, Inc., and Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc., a Turner company. No copyright infringement is intended by their use in this story. I, and this story, are in no way affiliated with, approved of or endorsed by Hanna Barbera or Turner Productions. This is created by a fan for other fans out of love and respect for the show, and is strictly a non-profit endeavor.