After Neal had settled into the third floor bedroom, the one at the front of the house - evidently a bedroom 'more suitable for teenage boy', and not the one at the back - 'clearly a young lady's room,' he had been summoned to a meeting in the study to 'clarify house rules and reiterate expectations.'
The list of rules had been extensive and ever so boring. Neal had a difficult time feigning his attentiveness and kept wriggling his toes in an attempt to prevent himself from nodding off and, or becoming comatose. At some point, long into the lecture, during Peter's rather elementary explanation of the tracking anklet that was to be worn as part of his release agreement, Neal decided he couldn't possibly handle listening to any more nonsense and interrupted…
"Look Peter-"
"Sir."
Neal raised his brows. "Excuse me?"
"In this house, under this roof, you will address me as, Sir. Alternatively, if you wish, you can call me Father. Of course I don't mind if you prefer to call me Dad, if that's any easier."
"If what's easier…you're not my father?" The young man's tone was not of disrespect but of confusion.
"For the duration that I am assigned as your guardian, by all intents and purposes, I will be your father, Neal. I need you to get your head around the fact that I will have the equivalence of parental authority over you. I believe that by calling me Father, you will adjust more easily in accepting our subsequent roles."
"But it doesn't make sense. I don't have a dad, I've never had a father…and I'm certainly not in need of one now."
"And yet all evidence to the contrary," Peter deadpanned. "Look, I'm sorry that you never had a dad," the agent was well aware of the young man's background and his sympathy was genuine, "but let's imagine for a moment that you did. What would be his responsibilities as your father and what role would he be expected to play in your life?"
The younger man sighed, showing clear signs of growing even more bored with this particular aspect of the lecture than the endless revision of the rules. "The usual. You know, you've got kids of your own."
"Yes, I do know, but please, humour me..."
Neal huffed and slouched in his seat before finally giving a half-hearted answer. "If I had a dad, he'd be my go to man for money, if he was cool we could hang around together at the clubs, I'd borrow his car for a hot date, etcetera, etcetera, etcet…." Neal trailed off, following Agent Burke's movements as he pushed up from his chair and came around the desk. Neal pushed his own chair back, not real sure why he was suddenly a little concerned regarding the close proximity the agent now held as he loomed over to speak.
"Neal," the older man's tone conveyed his disapproval as he hitched his left leg up onto the desk, "when I ask you a question, I expect you to answer in a respectful tone and in a mature manner, do I make myself clear?"
The young con gave a cocky grin, which he hastily retracted upon reconsidering that his ordinarily smart retort would not go down well given the serious glare boring down from above. "Uh, yes…Sir?"
"Good, now tell me please, apart from being a good time friend and an endless source of money, what other roles does a father play."
Neal searched his brain for an acceptable answer that would deliver him to freedom from this excruciating interrogation, sooner rather than later. "I imagine a father would do father stuff like…" Neal scratched his head, "like going to the museums together…versing each other in chess, maybe…watching out for his son? Making sure he's doing the right thing? Bailing him out when he gets into difficulty?"
Peter slid off the table and strolled back around to his seat. "Yes, that's right, Neal. A parent fulfills all of those responsibilities, and more." The agent picked up a framed photo from the sideboard beside his desk and studied the images of a young boy and girl posing beside a large elaborate sandcastle. "My son and daughter are about the same age as you, Neal. At present, they're living with their mother in Ahmedabad, India but let's take Richard for instance. When he is under my care, we do those things you mentioned. We go to watch the baseball, we toss hoops down at the park, I make sure he's behaving himself and when he gets into difficulty, I help him out."
"Richard's one lucky dude." Neal's statement was meant to be sarcastic, but came across oozing jealousy.
"He is, but then, so am I." Peter returned the frame to the shelf and leaned into in his high-back leather office chair. "Neal, part of my job as Richard's father is to guide him and help him to grow into a responsible, law-abiding adult, and that includes helping him to understand that there are consequences for behaviours deemed inappropriate."
The young man grinned and he couldn't help himself, "So Richard's quite the naughty little boy…Sir?"
Peter's pursed lips had the desired results - Neal dropped his smile and sat up straighter in his chair. Satisfied, the older man continued, "Richard is a good kid, but… he is a teenager and isn't immune to being involved in shenanigans from time to time."
"Good thing you're there to show him the error of his ways." Neal snatched a pen off Peter's desk and began twirling it in his fingers.
Peter leaned forward. "Neal, how do you suppose I show him the 'error of his ways'?"
By torturing him with hour-long lectures that have him wanting to stab himself in the eye with a pen? Neal dropped the pen he was playing around with before he was sorely tempted. "I imagine you do what you are doing now…Sir. You sit him down and 'explain' why something he has done is not acceptable."
"And then…" the agent pushed for more details but Neal was blank.
"Uh…then," the young man shrugged, "you ground him?" He wasn't sure if that was something that still happened to an eighteen year old, but it was worth a shot – any answer that saw him being released from this tiresome exercise was a good answer.
"Yes, Neal, sometimes I ground him, no television, no computers, no phone for a week. How do you think grounding would work out for you?"
Neal pushed up from the chair and placed both hands on the desk. "You're going to ground me! Surely you can't be serious, Peter!"
"Sit. Down." The older man's command was so calmly authoritative, it startled Neal into doing just that. "First of all, as far as I know, you haven't done anything to warrant being grounded. As you may recall when I brought you back here, I said you had a clean slate and would be starting over. Secondly, you need to listen to what is being said before going off half-cocked. I asked you how you thought grounding would work out for you."
"Oh," Neal squirmed in his seat while trying to recoup from the embarrassment of his little outburst. "Mmmm…fine?"
"So if I grounded you for a week you'd stay put in the house and wouldn't be tempted to sneak out when you weren't being watched?"
"I may be tempted." Neal considered there wasn't a chance in hell he wouldn't break free after five minutes but he kept those thoughts wisely to himself. "Why do you ask…Sir? Are you assuming I'm going to get myself into trouble of some kind?"
"Not even taking into consideration the fact that you're a convicted felon, Neal, you are a seventeen year old boy, and from what I've seen over the years, seventeen year olds are capable of getting themselves into all manner of troubles. Would you disagree?"
Neal tilted his head and gave a loopy smile, "That would depend… Sir on just how capable they are of getting out of trouble to begin with."
Peter stared at the kid until he dropped his smile. "Once again Neal, I'm not at all impressed."
Neal considered whispering, 'I can't possibly imagine why not,' but instead sat up attentively and awaited the next round of the lecture.
"It's been my experience, Neal that grounding doesn't always work. Sometimes there are other consequences which are more suitable like setting an earlier curfew, restricting movements around the city, a sound paddling, and additional chores around the house-"
"Wait!" Neal pushed up from his chair once more, looking rather offended and horrified at the same time. "Oh, please don't tell me you set a curfew for your seventeen year old son?"
The agent lifted his hand in the air and pointed sharply at the seat.
Neal rolled his eyes before dropping into it ever so dramatically.
"Yes, Neal. Richard and Renee both have curfews, as will you. 9:30 on a school night, 11:30 on the weekends."
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me…" Neal sighed with exaggerated frustration.
"No, I'm not Neal and you will adhere to those set times or there will be-"
"Consequences," Neal grumbled. "Yes I heard - restricting movements, additional chores, a sound…" The young man's jaw dropped while his face paled and his eyes widened.
Peter reclined back in his chair and waited patiently for the other shoe to drop, studying his young charge and wondering what the next emotion would be.
Finally, when Neal was able to speak once more, he swallowed hard and dared to ask, "Did you say before that one of the consequences could be a…."
"A what?" Peter knew exactly what.
Neal looked around at the door to make sure they were alone before responding in hushed tones, "A sound…paddling?"
Peter of course had no such reticence in discussing the topic. "Yes, Neal, I did say one of the consequences of inappropriate behaviour may well be a sound paddling."
"But, Peter," Neal was way too shocked to remember he wasn't supposed to be using the agent's Christian name, "that's OUTRAGEOUS! What is this, the dark ages?"
Peter shook his head with a knowing smile, fully expecting this type of reaction, "No, Neal, it's not the dark ages. Many parents still use a firm hand when it comes to disciplining their children. You've not had a lot of discipline in your life up until now, but I'm guessing you're beginning to understand that's all about to change."
Neal dropped his head dejectedly onto the surface of the desk and moaned.
The agent ignored the performance, pulled open one of the desk drawers and took out a writing tablet that he laid on the table in front of Neal.
The youngster lifted his head and looked up questioningly.
"Neal, I am going to leave you alone now so you can write down all the expectations and rules we've just talked about." The teenager groaned and slouched in his seat as Peter continued with the instructions. "I'll be back in one hour. If you finish before that I want you to remain here until I return. Is that clear, Neal?"
"Peeeett-" The older man slammed the palm of his hand onto the wooden surface of the desk compelling Neal to withhold his complaint and responding as expected. "Yes…Sir. All clear."
"Fine. Peter rose from his seat and walked to the door. "I'll be back in one hour Neal."
Neal dropped his head back onto the desk and groaned.
