Chapter 8

Jerry and Emma perked up at the sight of flashing lights traveling up the driveway. The three adults opened the door to see a Social Worker getting out of the car, followed by a soot-darkened boy who looked rather small for 14. Once inside Emma got him a drink while Jerry worked on the paperwork, Mark sifting through his medical records to check for allergies they should know about. Once the worker left Emma lead the boy, named Oliver to his new room. All of his possessions were at the crime scene so she found him some clothes from the emergency supply along with a towel.

"Here, take a shower then get some sleep," she said softly "goodnight Oliver."

"N-n-night," he stuttered.

The next day no adult spoke about the new arrival to the boys, wanting to give him some time to catch up on his rest. But not wanting him to over sleep and not want to by night time Emma went to wake him while the boys were in the grounds. "Oliver, Oliver, wake up," she said softly. "Oliver?" She was worried, then she noticed, he wasn't breathing, his chest was still and there were no sounds of him breathing. "Oh Jesus," she muttered calling an ambulance. "Jerry, Quickly, help me in here!"

"Jeeze Em, can't wake a teenager?" He joked, "what is it?" He said seriously as she glared at him.

"He's not breathing," Jerry moved instantly checking for a pulse. He was still alive, but barely. Jerry rode with him to the hospital with Emma driving behind. Mark was working in the office, contacting the Social Worker from the night before.

The scare, turned out to be lucky. Lucky Emma had found him. Oliver,had inhaled a lot of smoke the night before and it had stuck in his lungs, leaving him difficulty. Diagnosed with Astma they wanted to keep him in for observations and to keep him on a ventilator to help clear the smoke.

After being released Oliver was taken back to the school and introduced to the family.

Just over a week later Isaac, Austin, Nathan and Mitch were playing in the grounds with a soccer ball, playing kickball. Nathan sent it flying and Isaac sprinted, chasing after the ball, skidding to a stop as the ball splashed into the pool. The boys weren't meant to go near the pool without supervision, but Isaac saw no harm in reaching for his ball which was no more then a foot from the edge, floating idly. Almost there, nearly... Closer-

"Isaac!" Startled the boy toppled in with a cry. Thrashing panicked Isaac didn't surface and was beginning to lose air he needed. A second splash was heard in the grounds as Mark came running out of the lounge where he had been watching a film with the doors open to keep an eye and ear on the game. Brad surfaced, Isaac in his grip, swimming over to the edge. "Come on Isaac," he urged trying to make him breathe. Patting his back the small boy choked up the water he'd breathed in, crying as he did so.

"Brad, Isaac, what happened?" Mark asked seeing Brad holding the small crying boy, both soaked to the bone.

"He fell in, he was trying to reach his ball I think," Brad explained and Isaac gripped tightly at the wet fabric of his shirt.

"OK, I'll get it out, go put him in a warm bath then dress warmly, both of you, we don't need any more trips to hospital. Isaac, we'll talk about this later." He said and the shivering boy nodded. Slipping his and Isaac's swim shorts on he drew a warm bath in the master bath once used by Prefects and Head Boy's Brad cleaned Isaac in the warm water, warming him through and out Brad dressed him in thick jeans and a sweater carrying him down stairs. Mark talked to him about why they were meant to stay away from the pool and checked he was still in good health. That night, after light's out small feet scampered through the hall and to the door of Brad's room. It squeaked on it's hinges spilling the hall light into the bedroom.

"Mmm, Isaac? It's past bedtime." Brad groaned.

"I had a bad dream," he said sadly.

Brad sighed, taking pity, "OK, come on get in," he yawned. "Close the door," he added opening the covers. Isaac curled into himself, clutching at Brad's shirt. Smiling Brad held the smaller boy until he dropped to sleep.

Upon hearing of the incident, Emma was horrified for the boy's safety and arranged for a safety rail around the pool area. Still not satisfied she looked into local leisure centers. "Thank you," she hung up the phone as Jerry placed a glass of Apple Juice in front of her. "And thank you."

"Who was on the phone?"

"Local sport center. I signed the kids up for swimming lessons. I know you have taught them all and yes they can swim, but they could all be stronger and let's face it, we work, we don't have to time to focus on each of them learning to swim like Olympians."

"OK, I can see your point," he agreed. What happened to Isaac had shaken the whole house.

One day, roughly a month later Emma was in what had been the School Library. They had been cleaning it, but she decided to take inventory of the books there. As expected they were all very old but in extremely good condition. She smiled as she heard someone begin to play the Piano in the room that joined on. Reading through the History of the School she had discovered what each room had been used for and the one beside the Library had been a Choir room for the All Boy's A capella Choir the Dalton Academy Warblers. As she continued to listen she heard a voice. She knew each and every boy's singing voice to heart but this was new, so she assumed it was Oliver.

"I remember looking up
To look up to him
And I remember most the time
He wasn't there
I'd be waiting at the door
When he got home at night
He'd pass me by to go to pass out in his chair

And I'd say
Walk a little straighter daddy
You're swaying side to side
You're footsteps make me dizzy
And no matter how I try
I keep tripping and stumbling
If you'd look down here you'd see
Walk a little straighter daddy
You're leading me

He stumbled in the gym
On graduation day
And I couldn't help but feel
So ashamed
And I wasn't surprised a bit
When he didn't stay
He stumbled out before they called my name

And I thought
Walk a little straighter daddy
You're swaying side to side
It's not just me who's watching
You've caught everybody's eye
And you're tripping and stumbling
And even though I've turned 18
Walk a little straighter daddy
You're still leading me

The old mans still like he always was
But I love him anyway
If I've learned one thing from him
Its my kids will never have to say

Walk a little straighter daddy
You're swaying side to side
You're footsteps make me dizzy
And no matter how I try
I keep tripping and stumbling
If you'd look down here you'd see
Walk a little straighter daddy
You're leading me

Yeah walk a little straighter daddy
You're leading me"

"Oliver?" She asked softly as the last echos of the notes faded. He turned sharply, tears on his cheeks, which he hastily wiped away. "Oliver, are you OK?" The boy shook his head.

"The fire... it wasn't the first time he tried to get rid of me," he cried softly as Emma sat beside him on the bench. "He's tried before, but he only ever does after he drinks..." Oliver sobbed the story in Emma's arms.