Though house calls were notoriously expensive, Amanda would gladly pay any differential demanded by her insurance. She was just plain grateful that an acquaintance of her father happened to be in Seattle, attending a medical conference. A general practitioner with an interest in psychiatry and alien humanoids. Doctor David McCoy had jumped at the chance to examine a rare halfling, and had even brought his pre-teen son along.
Spock sat on the living room sofa, showing absolutely no interest in McCoy's humming handheld scanner or the doctor's son, who stood to one side, watching.
"Be still now, boy," McCoy drawled, zeroing in on Spock's head.
"He hasn't spoken in three days," Amanda said anxiously. "Not one single word since they found him in the woods." There was really no need for her to repeat it. The doctor's own effort to engage Spock in conversation had utterly failed.
McCoy studied the scanner readings before switching it off.
"Well?" Amanda asked hopefully.
McCoy's blue eyes were troubled as he gave her a faint smile. "How about we let my Lenny entertain Spock while you and I have a private talk?"
Amanda's pulse raced as she ushered him down the hallway, into her bedroom, and closed the door. There, the doctor questioned her about her current family situation, Spock's recent behavior, and the degree of mental training he had received on Vulcan. They were no different from the hard questions she had already been asking herself. And now, McCoy's grim pronouncement seemed to validate her own worst fears.
"Mrs. Grayson, the boy's Vulcan genes are clearly dominant. Therefore he has certain mental needs that must be addressed or the internal strain will become a danger to him and to everyone around him. I believe the aphasia is one of many risin' symptoms. Here among humans, he's like a fish out of water. I suggest you either take him back to Vulcan or — "
"Never!" she said fiercely.
"Or," McCoy continued in a gentler tone, "find someone to guide his emotional development, someone skilled in calmin' techniques of meditation. Better yet, take him to live in a sunny community where those techniques are put into practice every day." Grinning ear to ear, he added, "And I know just the place!"
Though Spock was increasingly aware of the lanky twelve-year-old staring at him, he resisted a very natural urge to react. But when Lenny McCoy got down on his knees so that their eyes were level, Spock could not help but look aside.
"Aha," Lenny drawled in an annoyingly superior manner. "You're in there somewhere, aren't you? Better quit playin' dumb or they'll cart you off to a funny farm."
Funny farm. Spock focused on the strange term. He was, of course, familiar with farms, but did not understand how any farm could possibly be humorous…or why he might be taken to such a place. He was wishing that his mother would return when K'avon suddenly jumped on the sofa and climbed into his lap, purring loudly.
"Is that your cat?" Lenny asked.
Spock gave no reply. He sat absolutely still, ignoring the pinpricks of K'avon's claws as the cat vigorously pumped on his leg. But it was more difficult to ignore an increasing sense of hostility toward Doctor McCoy's intrusive son.
"Maybe he's my cat," Lenny said.
Deep inside Spock, a fiery locus of anger ignited. One finger escaped his control and gave a twitch.
Lenny noticed. "If he's yours, just tell me. Otherwise, I guess he's mine." And so saying, he reached out.
The youth's hands were settling into K'avon's fur when Spock gave a fierce shout, and with all the force of a Vulcan, punched Lenny right in the nose. K'avon leapt clear as young McCoy fell to the floor, red blood spurting.
oooo
It had been a long trying day, and Amanda sighed as she tucked her troublesome boy into bed. "It's a lucky thing that David McCoy is a tolerant man. Did you have to go and break his son's nose? Just because Lenny tried to pet your cat?" She still wondered if there was more to the story, but Spock was as silent and remote as ever. Pained by his strange behavior, she sat down beside him. "Well, there are going to be some changes. Before David…before Doctor McCoy left, he was kind enough to help me settle on a plan for you."
Spock had not once met her eyes. Now, as she noticed tears welling, Amanda's heart went out to him. Very gently she urged, "Please look at me."
His dark gaze slowly rose to meet hers. Even that level of response was a hopeful sign. "Good," she said, relaxing a bit. "I know you've been having trouble controlling yourself. What you need is an instructor in mental discipline, like you had on Vulcan. Only your new teacher will be a little different. He'll show you how to restrain your negative emotions while at the same time allowing the freer expression of positive emotions. And all this means…that we'll be moving soon."
His mouth opened. Lower lip trembling, he asked, "To…a funny farm?"
Amanda laughed in surprise. He had finally spoken! But what an odd thing to say. "No dear, not a funny farm. Where did you get such an idea?"
"That boy called Lenny," came the reply. "He said they would 'cart me off to a funny farm'. Although I am not sure what it means."
"Never mind," she assured him. "We're going to someplace wonderful. A place where the weather is warmer and people try harder to be nice."
He abruptly rose from his pillow. "And what of K'avon? Will he come, too?"
"Of course." Easing him back down, she brushed his bangs aside and kissed his warm forehead. "Sleep now. No wandering tonight. Promise?"
"Yes, Mother," he answered, much to her delight.
oooo
With Spock's cat and their few personal belongings securely loaded in the hover car, Mother spent the better part of a day flying from the Pacific Northwest to a rural area outside of Lumpkin, Georgia. They had traveled in four time zones and the sun was low in the sky when the wooded Akita Enclave at last came into view.
Reinforcing her prior instructions, Mother said, "Doctor McCoy has come down from Atlanta just to welcome us and cook dinner. Now remember, as soon as we meet him and his son, you'll apologize to Lenny for that punch in the nose."
"But," Spock objected, "it is not logical to apologize for an action that one does not regret. And some say that regret itself is illogical."
"Well, this someone doesn't consider it illogical," Mother firmly replied. "Regret or no regret, you will apologize because we are living on Earth, where it is polite to do so."
The car's guidance system directed them to a parking space outside a small, single level house. David McCoy and his son rose from a pair of outdoor chairs on the front porch. Spock could not help but notice how his mother's face brightened at the sight of the doctor.
A sudden thought occurred to him and he wondered aloud, "Has he no bondmate?"
Mother powered down the hover car before turning to meet Spock's eyes. Very quietly she said, "His wife died a couple of years ago. But it would be discourteous to mention that. Do you understand?"
Though there was a great deal about human courtesy that Spock did not understand, he replied, "As you wish. I will not mention it to the doctor."
Mother gave him a taut smile. Then they left the car and started up a walkway shaded by pine trees of a type very different from those at Port Gamble. Doctor McCoy and Lenny met them halfway.
"Welcome to the finest state in the union," the doctor drawled with a grin.
"Good afternoon," Lenny solemnly spoke in an identical drawl. His nose was slightly swollen, and he shifted uncomfortably as he frowned at Spock.
Doctor McCoy broke the tension. "Now Amanda, you two take it easy. Lenny and I will unload everything."
Mother's hand descended on Spock's shoulder. Even had he not directly sensed her thoughts, the meaning would have been clear. "Greetings," Spock said in what he hoped was a sufficiently polite manner. Focusing on lanky Lenny, he continued. "I apologize for striking you…and…and I am also sorry that your mother is dead."
The fingers on his shoulder cinched tighter and gave him a little shake. "Spock! Didn't I tell you—?"
Confused, he looked up at his mother's flushed, disapproving face and tried to explain. "But I was not speaking to the doctor. I was speaking to his son."
As she rolled her eyes skyward, Doctor McCoy chuckled and said, "Sharp mind, that little fellow. And a sharp tongue to match."
oooo
A delicious aroma of chicken and dumplings wafted from the kitchen. Following doctor's orders, Amanda sat in the small living room sipping a glass of fruity wine, her feet propped comfortably on a hassock. Strange new furnishings surrounded her, rather Asian in style. Tomorrow she would met Mr. Akita and discuss Spock's mental training. Having studied under Vulcans, Zen masters, and Christian monks, Akita had developed his own Middle Way of Tranquility firmly centered in God. Surely there was no one on Earth more qualified to guide her halfling son.
"Dinner's ready!"
David McCoy's cheerful call turned her thoughts in another direction. Rising, she went into the tidy kitchen where Spock and Lenny were placing her unpacked dishes and flatware on a table. David set his cooking pot beside a bowl of deli salad, and they all sat down to a family-style meal.
"Mind if I say grace?" the doctor asked. "My granddaddy was a preacher and I never got over it."
Amanda gave her consent. But hearing McCoy's simple words of thanks, she suspected that the prayer had more to do with a deep personal faith than any lingering family influence. In that way, as in so many others, David was the polar opposite of Sarek. Amanda had never met a kinder, warmer man. And his flashes of wry humor sometimes even made her laugh. It had been such a long time since she had laughed.
She watched him heap Spock's plate with dumplings and vegetables in chicken gravy, and a generous side of salad.
"Eat hearty, son," he said.
Spock cast him a quizzical look. "But Doctor, I am not your son."
"Of course not," McCoy answered pleasantly as he served Amanda, Lenny, and himself. "It's just a polite expression."
Spock's dark slanted brows puckered together. "But it is…an imprecise form of speech. And sir, if I might ask, on what facts do you base your assertion that Georgia is the 'best state in the union'?"
Now that he had resumed talking, he could not seem to keep quiet. Amanda was about to shush him when David winked at her. He was clearly enjoying the exchange. And why not? It was an interest in half-caste children that first brought him into their lives.
Forking a bite of chicken breast, McCoy chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before saying, "Well, young man, a talented fellow named John Howard Payne once put it nicely. "'Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home'."
Spock considered the famous phrase, his dinner still untouched. At last he said, "But…if there is no place like home…then one could never find a home…for it would not exist."
Like a true Vulcan, he had taken the phrase literally.
Whether Lenny was trying to be helpful or simply add to the general confusion, he declared, "'Home is where the heart is'."
Spock's lips compressed and frustration flared in his eyes as he confronted the older boy. "That is illogical! Mother, tell him!"
Amanda sighed. "Spock, calm yourself," she gently admonished. "Let's see if you can eat your dinner quietly. It's really quite good."
To her relief, he turned his attention on his plate, slowly picked up his fork, and tasted a dumpling. Little by little the food went down.
oooo
In a pleasantly austere room, Spock sat across from Mr. Akita on floor cushions. Both the stillness and the posture of meditation were familiar to him, for on Vulcan he had taken similar lessons since the age of three.
Mr. Akita was a wiry, dark-haired man of Japanese ancestry. He spoke in a calm, friendly manner that Spock found very soothing. He asked that Spock call him Sensei, which meant teacher. Sensei explained that little by little he would lead Spock through a series of mental exercises to help block out the thoughts of others and control destructive emotions. But it would not happen all at once. It could take years.
"Now close your eyes," Sensei told him.
As he led Spock through the first simple instructions, Spock's mind frequently wandered, for since leaving Vulcan his discipline had become quite lax. More than once he actively tried to read Sensei's thoughts, instead of focusing on the Delight of Silence. Somehow Sensei detected Spock's mental lapses, but instead of rebuking him, gently returned Spock again and again to the lesson at hand.
Spock could tell that Mr. Akita liked him. There was an almost palpable sense that Sensei liked everyone. Spock felt himself relaxing in the man's presence and wishing very much to please this kindly teacher. He would be seeing a lot of Sensei. In addition to private instruction periods, Spock would soon join other Enclave children in group meditation and martial arts. This morning he had seen a red-haired boy out walking with his father. Might they become friends? Would any human child accept him?
"Focus."
Once again, Sensei's gentle voice drew him back into the present.
oooo
If not for the brilliant blue sky overhead, they might have been on planet Vulcan. The steep, bare walls of Providence Canyon were banded in bold shades of red, white, purple, and ochre. But unlike Vulcan, the summer air was humid — so much so, that the day felt considerably hotter than 90 degrees.
Amanda was glad she had donned shorts before setting out with Spock from the trailhead by Akita Enclave. At first, Spock had seemed rather shocked to see her dressed in such a skimpy manner, but now he was walking contentedly at her side, looking almost…happy.
"A plum leaf azalea," he said, stopping to finger the shrub's bright red blossoms and compare them to a display on his padd. "Providence Canyon is one of the few places where it grows. Sensei told me."
Amanda nodded. "Yes. It's hard to imagine that all this rugged beauty is the result of poor farming practices in the 19th century."
"Indeed," Spock concurred as he moved on down the trail.
Amanda was thankful that he liked Mr. Akita. After a mere two weeks of instruction, Spock was already showing signs of improvement. He had not lost his temper in days, and this morning he had openly smiled to hear that she was rewarding him with a hike.
Catching up to the boy, she ventured to say, "This area looks a lot like Vulcan, doesn't it? Do you ever miss our old home in ShiKahr?"
"Home is where the heart is," he replied without missing a step.
The matter-of-fact words took her by surprise. Though she had explained the old adage to him, he had never used Lenny McCoy's phrase before. Did it show a new acceptance of positive feelings?
Stopping in the shade of a tree, she drank from her canteen and then said, "Spock, there's something I need to tell you."
He gazed up at her, wide-eyed with expectation. His hair had learned to stay neatly parted to one side, in a popular human style. But those slanted brows and pointed ears clearly marked him as Vulcan. There remained but one other way to highlight his duel heritage.
"Spock," she began again. Though on the verge of asking if he missed his father, she could not bring herself to speak of Sarek. Instead, she simply told him, "I'm legally changing my surname back to Grayson. And I'm changing yours, too. You'll still be Spock, but Spock Grayson instead of S'chn T'gai." She paused to let the information sink in. "What do you think of that?"
After a moment of solemn consideration he replied, "It is only logical."
oooo
Spock was still clad in his karate clothes, fresh from a lesson, when he saw the red-haired boy again. It was unusual for the boy to be alone. He swung his legs so awkwardly that each step was clearly a struggle. Whenever possible, he steadied himself by holding onto a fence rail or tree trunk.
Concerned for the boy's safety, Spock followed at a discreet distance. But suddenly the boy stopped, turned around, and looked straight at him. Had there been some unintended form of mental contact?
"Hi there," the boy said with the same Georgia drawl as the McCoys.
How best should he respond? "I am Spock. Spock Grayson." That would do. He liked the sound of his new name.
"I'm Preston," came the reply. "Preston Jacobs. You're new, aren't you?"
Spock had expected him to say, You're Vulcan. You're weird. Taken aback, he finally replied, "I have not been here long." He refrained from adding a precise timeframe, which seemed to annoy some humans.
The boy clung more tightly to the fence beside him. "I'm not one of Mr. Akita's pupils. My parents just work around the place."
That explained why Spock had never seen him in the group classes. Though he would have liked to advance the conversation, he was unsure know how to proceed. Hesitantly he said, "I…I am six years old now. In Earth years." Once again he refrained from giving an exact measurement.
"You seem older," Preston remarked. "I'm eight. Can you play?"
Spock did not know if he was capable of human play. One time at Port Gamble, he had attempted to join an outdoor game called "hopscotch", but it was only meant for human females. Or so the girls had told him in a very unpleasant manner. He had seen other children pitching smooth white balls and catching them with padded mitts. He doubted if someone like Preston could engage in such physical activities.
The boy's freckled face seemed hopeful as he waited for Spock to answer. Gathering his courage, Spock said, "I…would like to try."
oooo
"Honestly," Amanda said with a heavy heart, "I don't know what more I can do."
A late afternoon thunderstorm had dropped the temperature enough to make her front porch bearable. It felt nice sitting with David McCoy, just sipping lemonade while Spock and Lenny amused themselves inside. Hopefully without bloodshed.
It was not the first time she had discussed her ongoing problem with David, who was always a good listener. In some ways, Spock was progressing well. But despite the best efforts of the enclave staff, he remained too isolated from his fellow students. "The kids here are nice enough, but he's too advanced for children his own age and too young to connect with the older ones. His Vulcan behaviors set him even further apart. There's only one way to describe it. He's completely inept when it comes to socialization."
The front door opened. Lenny came out and sat on the porch steps.
"Where's Spock?" Amanda asked him.
"I don't know, Ma'am," Lenny answered. "He went out back a few minutes ago."
Amanda turned to David. "That boy! See what I mean? It's plain rude to walk out on company. More and more, he just takes off by himself."
"Vulcans like their solitude," David reminded her.
"Well, he'll have plenty of solitude in his room when he gets back. I specifically told him that he was going to spend some time today playing, whether he liked it or not."
There was a sound of footsteps on the front path.
"Well, if that don't beat all," David said under his breath.
Amanda turned toward the path and found a pair of boys slowly approaching the house. The taller of the two had a tight grip on the other's arm. And no wonder, for he needed to steady himself as he hobbled along with a strange, twisting gait.
Her mouth dropped open and she got to her feet. She had noticed the disabled boy once or twice before, and now here was Spock bringing him to their door as if…
"Spock, I see you're back," David said, rising beside her. "And it looks like you're bringin' a young friend along."
The boys came to a stop.
"This is Preston Jacobs," Spock announced. "We have always played at his house, but his parents gave their permission for him to come here and see my cat. Is that alright, Mother?"
It took a joyous moment for Amanda to find her voice. "Yes. Yes, Spock, that's alright. In fact, it's wonderful."
After the boys passed by, David cleared his throat and murmured, "Amanda dear, you were sayin'…?"
oooo
Spock and Preston were not in the house very long when Lenny joined them in the living room. K'avon looked completely comfortable curled up in Preston's lap. The cat purred with feline contentment as Spock and his friend sat side by side on the sofa, petting him.
Lenny came over, and settling next to Preston, introduced himself. Then he added, "My father is out there on the porch. He's a doctor."
"Glad to meet you," Preston said warily.
Hoping Lenny would leave them, Spock revealed, "Preston does not…doesn't…care much for doctors." Lately Mother had been teaching him "contractions" to make his language more like that of native born Earthlings. But like most Vulcans, he preferred formal modes of speech.
Lenny stayed put and addressed Preston. "I bet you've seen plenty of doctors. Has your condition been diagnosed?"
Spock frowned. "That is a rather intrusive question. He might not wish to discuss such a personal matter with you."
The faintest of smiles tugged at Preston's mouth. "Oh, Spock, you can go ahead an' tell him. I don't care."
Though it still seemed like an invasion of privacy, Spock explained, "He has a congenital malformation of the pelvis and lower spine. He has had several operations, but the condition cannot…can't…be fully repaired until he stops growing."
Lenny leaned forward and looked straight at Preston. "Starfleet has been doin' some interestin' work on bone abnormalities. I heard about it at the medical conference in Seattle."
Spock stiffened. "I find that difficult to believe," he said with thinly veiled skepticism. "Starfleet is involved in space exploration, not medicine."
"Well, you pointy-eared pipsqueak," Lenny shot back, "you're not half as smart as you think. Starfleet's medical research department is right on the cutting edge. And since you're about to make some equally ignorant comment about the 'cutting edge', I'll save you the trouble. It means 'at the forefront of new discoveries'."
Spock went hot with humiliation. Though he was sorely tempted to bloody Lenny's nose a second time, he remembered a calming technique taught to him by Mr. Akita. He heard Sensei's placid voice reminding him, "There is another, unseen Presence upon whom you can rely for inner strength." Turning to that Presence, he examined his own part of the conversation and realized that he, also, was not without some fault. Even so, he could not resist saying, "Leonard Horatio McCoy, you are a round-eared pipsqueak."
Preston broke into loud laughter and gasped, "Horatio? Leonard Horatio?"
oooo
Summer was drawing to a close. Thanks to Spock's friendship with Preston Jacobs, and David McCoy's professional intervention, three families were gathered in the waiting room of an Atlanta hospital while young Preston underwent the very latest in corrective surgery.
Spock should have been pleased. Instead, he looked rather pale as he sat stiffly beside Amanda while she chatted with David, Lenny, and Preston's parents. In addition to Preston's good fortune, Spock had every reason to be proud of himself. As usual, he was excelling at his homeschool lessons, but even more gratifying was the latest report from Mr. Akita. "Spock Grayson is a hardworking, respectful student who exemplifies the highest standards of Akita Enclave." As proof of Akita's success, Spock's temperament continued to grow ever more placid, while showing positive flashes of human spontaneity.
Yet here he sat, as glum as a rainy day. Was it concern about Preston?
Rising, Amanda took him over to a refreshment dispenser in the far corner of the room. As usual, Spock's dietary restrictions narrowed the choices considerably.
"How about some fruit chips?" she suggested.
"No, thank you," he replied somberly.
"Then a drink," she said, choosing his latest sugar-free favorite.
Amanda moved him to a nearby table, and they sat down.
"Preston will be just fine," she said in a reassuring tone.
Spock's brown eyes glimmered with unshed tears. "Mother, how can you be certain? I've calculated the odds of medical complications. And…had I not come into Preston's life, he would be safe at home right now."
Amanda's heart wrenched. "Spock, you mustn't look at things that way. Why, you've been a wonderful friend to Preston. Always remember that the universe is unfolding as it should."
"Is it?" he questioned.
She was tempted to quote the Vulcan standard, "Worry is illogical." But Spock's worry meant that he was in touch with his human half, something he must learn to live with for the rest of his life.
Placing her hand atop his, she asked, "Shall we pray for him?"
He did not withdraw from her touch, nor did he deny the efficacy of prayer. After a moment of quiet thought, he merely nodded.
oooo
Spock strode down a Providence Canyon trail with Preston close behind him. It was a pleasant October weekend, with the temperature hovering at 86 degrees. Picnic weather, according to his mother. Therefore she had prepared some traditional fare and invited the McCoys, who had brought additional backpacks of edible items and beverages.
Rounding a corner, Spock picked up his pace. It delighted him — yes, delighted him — to hear Preston chuckle, break into a run, and pass him by. Gone was the laboriously crippled gait that had limited Preston since birth. Having fully recovered from surgery, he now moved with the same ease as any other boy.
The sun was high overhead when they stopped under a stand of gum trees, spread a couple of blankets, and sat down to eat. There were several types of sandwiches, salads, and pickles. Mother had made cookies sweetened without sugar. The day would have been perfect if not for the presence of Lenny McCoy, who had recently turned thirteen.
As usual, Spock did his best to avoid him, for the youth's insulting words rankled painfully in his mind. But he knew that he should guard against harboring grudges. A sharp memory was a Vulcan trait that had led to much violence before Surak's reforms.
When the leisurely meal was over, everyone packed up and prepared to leave. It was then that Spock reached a decision and asked Lenny for a private talk. Peace between two warring parties could only be achieved through negotiation.
Lenny indulged his wish, and they walked a few yards down the trail.
Facing the older boy, Spock determinedly admitted, "You were correct about Starfleet medical technology. And I was in error."
Lenny rocked back on his heels. "Glory be, a genuine apology? Is that logical?"
Spock had hoped for an apology in return. But holding onto his temper, he quoted Mr. Akita. "Logic is only the beginning of wisdom."
Lenny's round face brightened. "Hey, Spocklet, that's not bad. Not bad at all."
Just then, Mother called out, "Spock, Lenny, we're going!"
Spock turned and saw Doctor McCoy reaching for her hand. In that instant, Spock's entire being focused on the touch. Though Earth customs were very different from those of Vulcan, he somehow sensed that the contact between the two adults held great significance.
Today he had advanced from a "pipsqueak" to "Spocklet". Were even more changes on the way?
oooOOooo