Eternities

"Let's take a look at that, then, since it bothers you. What's the purpose of discipline, the crux- or the objective, if you prefer that term?"

Adam didn't hesitate. "Responsibility. And accountability. Definitely accountability." Adam frowned. "I want the boys to appreciate our family operates because of each of us, not just one or two. And at the same time my wish is that my brothers know every second of every day that I care and that they are loved."

Adam sank back against the cushioning of his chair and allowed his mind to wander.

Something about the way Brian shifted from one foot to another activated Adam's spidey sense. Suspicious, he narrowed his eyes to concentrate more completely on his brother. "Let me get this straight," he recapped. "Your story is you flunked the science experiment because your teacher somehow failed to note you and your lab partners had, in fact, completed each of the steps the way she had required."

"See?" Brian nodded conspiratorially, his blue eyes alight with righteous excitement. "You get it!"

Adam put his hands on his hips and blew out a breath. "And you have defended yourself to me for this…" He reached down to take the piece of paper Brian had handed him earlier. "You have argued that Ms. Madison- the same Ms. Madison who has taught that class for as long as I can remember- somehow managed not to notice your lab group following the steps directly. She further failed to see you conduct each section, write down the notes, and keep going until you finished." Adam glanced at the teacher's message written in the top margin. "So I suppose she also erred with her comment that the four of you spent the class time playing and laughing, despite her attempts to redirect you. Is that what you mean? Is that why you failed this?"

Brian's blue eyes lit and he grinned delightedly. "Right, I knew you'd see the problem."

Adam shook his head in bewilderment. "Brian-" He interrupted himself to pick up a pen and sign the paper with a flourish. "I do see the problem- clearly, and can visualize your behavior just the way Ms. Madison described it. Did you think ahead at all?"

Brian glanced down guiltily.

Adam continued. "The fact that you risked punishment plus a bad grade disturbs me, since you stayed grounded so much of last spring. Have you forgotten? Did that experience not teach you anything?"

Grasping the tide had actually turned against him, Brian re-evaluated his approach to appeal to his brother through another avenue-academically. Adam genuinely lit up when one of them brought home a good report and it wouldn't hurt to capitalize on that. "Let's recall that my last report card looked great."

"Yes it did, and it made me proud," Adam agreed. "But the progress report after that had you at a C in Science. So since the progress report is the most recent, my calculations now lead me to believe that you have deteriorated further than a C."

"Maybe not. It's just one grade out of a whole bunch of grades."

"Wrong answer. The grade carries enough weight that Ms. Madison wanted to make me aware of the fact that you failed the experiment."

That managed to drive in the point.

Brian looked stricken and for a split second Adam almost let him off the hook. But common sense prevailed and Adam reminded himself to respond firmly and not give in to his brother's desperate expression.

"So here's the deal," Adam handed the paper back to Brian. "You know the rules about academics, and you also know I warned you two weeks ago that if you didn't pull up that science grade consequences would follow. So from this point you are grounded- no anywhere except school and home and everything is off limits- television, friends, phone. I expect you to devote that extra free time to studying."

Brian opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it. He stayed silent several seconds as he digested the mandate. "For how long?" His troubled expression reflected his upset and disappointment.

"Until your teachers tell me you are passing everything." Adam raised his eyebrows.

"Ms. Madison?"

"Ms. Madison, but I want updates from the rest, also."

"You want me to get them to make a new progress report to bring you? And if I'm passing you'll take back the punishment?"

"Actually you no longer are allowed to bring report cards or progress reports home, remember?"

Brian blushed. Back in the spring he had forged Adam's name on a school paper. Since then he had not been trusted to convey important information from school to home.

"But yes, when you are sure you have everything under control let me know, and I'll arrange the documentation."

"So like next week?" Brian asked hopefully.

"Absolutely. But you have to be in good shape in science plus every other class. My expectation is that you are responsible and accountable."

Brian threw his head back dramatically and exhaled loudly. "You're killing me, Adam, crushing me."

Adam reached over and patted Brian's cheek. He grinned. "Go. This conversation finished and you have chores."

The brothers rarely balked at Adam's role as the family's disciplinarian. In a family of seven children, all of the boys understood the pecking order. The oldest child inherited the rank right underneath the parents as the next in command, the surrogate boss. So even before the death of his parents Adam had established clout with the younger boys. For that reason, issuing orders, settling squabbles, and reinforcing expectations came naturally to him.

What had changed, though, of course, was that he was now the penultimate final say.

For Adam, it took a couple of months after he assumed the role of guardian/ patriarch to stop second guessing every single disciplinary decision he made. In a way that proved a great method to ensure checks and balances, and the more he dealt with his brothers, the more confidence he built about his decisions.

Within a couple of weeks he understood his parents' motive for categorizing misbehavior. They grouped bad behavior into certain parameters, and that pigeonholing evoked consistent and certain consequences.

As a kid he had railed against that impenetrable consistency every time he considered a particular punishment too unbearable. His parents would never budge, however, and if his whining and complaints continued they would simply add yet another consequence. More unpalatable punishments would infuriate him further, but he learned to strategically temper his reaction so as not to venture into the land of parental disrespect.

In the McFadden household, disrespect ranked as a definite no-no.

At some point in those first weeks he finally understood exactly why his folks reacted the way they did. He could empathize with their position.

But they were gone.

And now he managed the family.

Levying discipline and teaching responsibility rested solely on his very young shoulders.

In those first weeks following the tragedy Adam often felt his brothers deliberately ramped up situations to test his authority, his resolve. At those times controlling his temper consumed huge chunks of his energy.

Simple directions would turn into a battle of wills.

Evan especially balked at tending to any of his own personal chores. For instance, he stubbornly refused to strip his bed one Saturday morning so the sheets could be washed, and compounded the problem by crossing his arms defiantly across his chest and puffing out his lip.

Adam regarded the little boy impatiently, reminding himself that Evan was adorable despite his stubborn streak. Like Brian, Evan's build was muscular. Even as a baby it was easy to predict his adult appearance.

Still, Adam had reached the end of his patience, having repeated the instructions four times the past hour. Regarding his tiny blond adversary's scowl, he clenched his jaw in an effort to remain calm. "Okey dokey, then, Evan. Since you have chosen to not do your part with chores this morning, you have forfeited…" He tilted Evan's chin so the little boy made eye contact. "Forfeited means you have given up. So you have forfeited your chance to play outside with the others this afternoon. That is the consequence for not doing your share. Now, for talking back and being disrespectful, I am giving a time out in your room."

Apparently Evan grasped the severity of the punishment. He hurriedly transformed his demeanor to a more pleasant one. "Adam, I changed my…."

"Nope, Little Man," Adam interrupted firmly, "I have not changed mine. You have compromised a huge chunk of my time this morning and now I am running behind on what I need to accomplish." He pointed to Evan's doorway. "Room. Now."

Evan regarded him. His lower lip wobbled, a clear signal of imminent tears. Even upset, Evan resembled a cute Kewpie doll.

Adam steeled himself to resist the adorable face, though, and warned, "Last time, Evan, before I spank you."

Tears gushed then, but Evan decided to end his resistance. He crossed the threshold of his room before turning a miserable face to regard his brother. "I did what you said now and I'm sorry."

"Thank you, and I would like you to remember this next week so this situation doesn't repeat itself."

Evan swiped at his tears. "Do you still love me?"

"What? Of course I love you," Adam assured him as he grabbed the small body and swung him into his arms. "I love you no matter what. If you're good, I love you. If you're bad, I love you. Even when you grow up and have a family and I am old and grey, I will love you. Always." He kissed the top of the blond head and allowed Evan to cuddle, small arms tightened around his big brother's shoulders.

Finally Adam carried him into the bedroom. Locating a box of tissues he yanked one and held it to Evan's nose. "Blow for me."

He set the child on the floor. "All right, I love you but I need to finish my own work."

"I love you a whole bunch," Evan responded.

Reinforcing the values and spirituality set down by their parents dominated most of Adam's own mindset as a parent. The family continued to attend church, to say prayers, and to bless the food each meal, and their beliefs formed the nucleus of who they were. Adam allowed no chance to slip by which hinted at an opportunity to teach or stress values.

One evening as supper finished he reached in his pocket and pulled out an envelope. "Guess who wrote to us?"

"Santa!" Daniel shouted.

Adam grinned at Daniel's exuberance. When something excited Daniel the little boy's entire face came alive.

Evan contradicted, "Nope, it's not Christmas. How 'bout the Easter Bunny?"

"Or," Ford opened his mouth and pointed at a molar. "The Tooth Fairy."

"Wrong, wrong, and wrong," Adam replied with a smirk. "And not anywhere close. Who can read the return address?" He held the envelope up at eye level. "Polka dots?"

Guthrie banged his spoon on the table. "Dolka pots!"

"You're so cute!" Brian gushed, leaning over to nuzzle the toddler. "Polka dots. Our Itty Bitties are also polka dots."

Adam swung the envelope from side to side.

Crane answered before Ford, Evan, or Daniel could. "Isabelle wrote!"

"Correct," Adam confirmed. "So let me share her news with all of you."

Isabelle and her daughter, Stella, had stayed with the boys during her struggle to leave an abusive marriage and support herself and Stella. They had eventually moved to Texas to live closer to her parents. Isabelle wrote periodically to update the McFaddens on the new life she and Stella led and never failed to sign off without reminding them again of their generosity and care and assuring them of her gratitude.

Once Adam finished reading Brian rubbed his chin and observed, "The best part of our story with Isabelle is that she will turn around and extend help to someone else. A good Samaritan circle. We began one and she will continue it."

"The cycle will continue," Crane agreed. "One good deed makes other good deeds happen."

"Amen to that!" Daniel contributed, his delivery so genuine and enthusiastic that the others burst into laughter.

A knock on the door broke the train of thought. Reverend Samuels pushed back his chair and stood, then called in the voice he used from the pulpit, "Come in."

Adam swiveled to witness Crane's entrance. He scrambled to his feet. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Crane murmured, "Sorry to interrupt, Reverend, but Adam…" his voice trailed and Adam caught the hint of tears. Crane crossed to his brother and launched himself against Adam, burying his head in his brother's chest. "Adam, I don't feel good. Not at all. I feel really sick," he admitted.

Adam brushed his hand across Crane's face and placed a palm on his cheek. The boy did feel warm.

Adam exchanged a troubled look with Reverend Samuels before wrapping an arm protectively around Crane's thin shoulders. "I'm afraid I have a sick boy here. If you'll excuse me I need to round up the rest of mine and get us home. Thank you for the listening, Reverend. It's been a long time since I poured my heart out to anyone."

Ever respectful, Adam waited for a sign of dismissal.

Reverend Samuels waved towards the corridor. "Go, Son, but just take that one. I'll send the rest of your crew home after church finishes. Plenty of parishioners will volunteer to chauffeur. Leave them here and go get Crane settled."

Adam thanked him and turned Crane in the direction of the hall.

"And Adam?"

"Sir?"

"You have re-created your family, Son. It makes me proud that you have formed the new one with so much wisdom and love."

Adam turned to look over his shoulder and grinned sheepishly. "Well, Reverend Samuels, Sir, I can promise you the wisdom has come about by trial and error and relying upon the way my parents worked. Most definitely when I shared with you that it took a minute, it took a minute!"