Authors:
Amberfly and Cleo the Muse
Series: Dan and Cam.
Title: Little
White Lies.
Warnings: None.
Category: General.
Feedback:
Please.
This is Dan and Cam story is a happy collaboration with the amazing "Cleo the Muse!" Please, if you enjoy it, make sure to drop her a line!
"Nuts! 'Kay, just one more shove! Gotcha! Whoa, Danny, come 'ere!"
"Ow! Trying to! Someone's butt is in the way. Oh, Cammie! This is amazing!"
Dusty,
sunlight-dappled, and full of mysterious artifacts, it could have
been an
exotic temple ruin for all the wonders it held for the two
adventurers.
Fortunately, for the intrepid explorers, Jack's
attic was the next best thing,
and right at home. Looking at each
other with open mouths, Daniel and Cameron
figured they'd hit pay
dirt, and it was all theirs to excavate. Sneezing from
the flying
dust in the air, they ran into the middle of the room, unsure what
to
investigate first.
"Look
it, Danny, look!" Cammie gasped, straining and tugging to lift
one heavy
cardboard box off another. His task was made all the
more difficult by the too
long sleeves of the class A jacket he
wore. The service cap perched on his
crown and threatening to slip
down over his eyes didn't help either. Realizing
he should
probably help his brother before the box was accidentally dropped
and
Jack came running to find out the cause of the racket, Danny
shoved up the
sleeves of his own suit jacket--brown, not blue--and
grabbed the other end of
the box. The two small boys eased the
heavy package to the attic floor, careful
not to pin Danny's long,
striped tie in the process, then immediately grabbed
for the
folded flaps.
"Whaddya
'spose is in here?" Cammie asked in a loud whisper, pausing with
his
tiny fingers wrapped around the corrugated edge.
"More
of Daddy's clothes, maybe," Danny answered, tugging on his lapel
for
emphasis. "Let's find out!"
Eager
hands pulled back the cardboard, laying the flaps down as far as
they'd go
and peering at the revealed contents. Instead of neatly
folded garments,
however, the boys beheld a treasure of a
different sort: toys. Most of them
were stuffed animals of various
colors and species, but the curious eyes quickly
spotted planes,
trains, and automobiles.
Cammie gasped and plunged his hand into the box. "A 1965 Mustang!"
"A
what?" His brother frowned, pausing in the middle of donning the
red baseball
cap he'd found at the top of the box.
"I
dunno, but it's really cool!" the darker-haired boy answered,
pulling out the
model car and studying it carefully. Lifting it up
and peering underneath it,
Cam sighed with delight. "Isn't
this just the beez kneez?"
Snorting
and rolling his eyes at the look of rapture on his brother's
face,
Daniel shrugged. "I like the train better. He took out
the locomotive and gave
it a thorough, hands-on inspection. "It
looks kinda like the one in Harry
Potter."
Together,
the boys delved through the box of toys, admiring some and
discarding
others. They couldn't begin to imagine why Jack would
have all these wonderful
things stored in the attic instead of
downstairs where his sons could play with
them. It wasn't until
Cammie discovered a bright colored shoebox that they
learned who
the real owner of all these toys had been.
"What's
this box say?" Cammie asked. He knew his letters well enough,
but he
preferred having his smart brother read things to him since
he was less likely
to get the words wrong.
"Charles
Tyler O'Neill," Danny sounded out. "Maybe we should put all
these toys
away, Cammie."
"Why?"
"'Cause they belong to Charlie," he answered, rolling his eyes impatiently.
Cammie
stuck out his lower lip. "Who's that? An' why's he got the same
last
name as Daddy?"
"'Cause he's Daddy's real son, flydork!"
"But
we're Daddy's sons," the other boy sulked, looking decidedly
cross.
"Wordgeek," he added belatedly.
Danny
sighed and scrubbed at one eye, wishing he could remember everything
he
was pretty sure he knew about Charlie. "Yeah, but we're
'dopted, Cammie.
Charlie was Jack's... and Sara's."
"Sara? Our Sara?"
"Uh-huh."
Danny sucked on his lower lip. "Maybe Charlie grew up and
moved
away, and that's why all his stuff is still here."
"I
guess so," Cammie agreed, then sat down on the floor and opened
the lid on
the box. "Hey, there are pictures and letters in
here!"
Excited
by the find, Danny slid around the big cardboard box and knelt next
to
his brother, peering over his shoulder. "Look it, Cammie,
that's Sara! She
looks the same really." A small smile tugged
at his lips as he whispered, "She's
really pretty in a 'mom'
kind of way," he hastily added, not wanting his
brother to
tease him for the rest of the day.
"S'pose
and here's Daddy," Cammie added, flopping a
sleeve-covered
pointer-finger at the picture. "Look at his
hair; it had color! And that's
gotta be Charlie there."
Holding the photo barely an inch from his nose, Cam
studied his
previously unknown brother's face silently willing him to say
hello
and introduce himself. "Hey Charlie, s'nice to meet
ya."
"Uh-huh,"
Danny agreed, reaching for one of the folded slips of paper.
Sprawling on his belly and kicking his feet up behind him, he
opened the paper
and spread out its creases against the dusty
floorboards. "It's a letter."
"Danny?
Who's it from?" Throwing himself down next to his brother, the
brims of
the caps bumping each other, Cammie twitched with
curiosity. Leaning across, he
plucked the yellowed envelope from
the floor, and turning it around, added,
"This says it's from
a school? Charlie's?"
Constantly
pushing the cap out of his eyes and tracing the faded words with
his
finger, Danny scowled. "Um, it's kind of hard to read,
Cammie. Move out of my
light and let me see."
When
his brother obligingly inched sideways, Danny cleared his throat and
read,
"'Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill'." Giggling and looking at
Cammie sideways, he said a
little pompously, "That's Sara and
Daddy in case you don't know! " Ignoring the
rolled eyes and
the drawled "duh", he flushed a little, and continued.
'Charlie
has been troublesome at school recently, and despite my
previous notes, you have
not responded. I feel as though we need
to discuss your son's behavior as a
matter of urgency.'" Eyes
impossibly wide, Danny stopped reading for a moment
and took a
great breath. "Wow, is he ever going to get it! Charlie must
have
been nuts!"
Pushing
himself up and climbing onto a box, Cammie wore a look of horror
mixed
with awe. Flapping his sleeves in the air, he hooted with
laughter, "Mistah and
Missus? Don' they know Daddy's a
General? Whoa, Charlie was sooo brave! "
Sitting
cross-legged, Indian style, Cam was enjoying himself and demanded
Dan
read the rest of the letter. Whenever he read out another
outrageous prank, Cam
crowed with delight. "Cool! Charlie
must've bin the coolest kid at school!"
"Ssshhh! Cammie! He was being naughty! Even the teacher says so!"
"Pfflattt,
what does some dumb ole teacher know? I'm just sayin'! Imagine
even
thinkin' 'bou't swappin' all the glue lids! How cool is that?
"
"Isn't!
Suppose the glue blobbed all over one of your drawings?" Rolling
his
eyes, Danny let the thought trail off, thinking it might make
Cam's messy
artwork look better. Watching his boisterous brother
bounce hyperactively on his
box, he decided it wasn't worth
getting a noogie for, and changing the topic,
said glibly, "Want
me to read some more?"
Nodding
his head furiously, Cammie listened to the rest of the letter.
Miss.
Ebert had listed all the sins Charlie had committed one by
one, and the little
colonel was very impressed. "Boy, wonder
how many green stars our other brother
lost? I think a gazillion!"
Giggling, leaning down to tap Danny on the head, he
begged, "Read
the bit about the paint pots again. That was brilliant!"
Shoving
up the over-long sleeves and letting the baseball cap slide over
his
eyes, Danny giggled back. "Hey, we must look like angels
on loan from heaven to
Daddy, mustn't we!" Sitting up and
rocking back and forth, a sudden memory
flashed into his mind.
Looking at the toys, reading the letter, laughing about
being an
angel from heaven reminded him of something--something that made
him
feel somewhat sad--and he knew they should pack away the
little box with the
puppy on the lid and leave it in peace. "No,
you heard me the first time."
"Wha?"
Cammie lost patience with his suddenly silent and reflective brother,
and
jumping from his box, gave Danny a hard shove. "Hey,
what's the matter with you?
Stop being such a goody-goody!"
Wrestling the shoebox from Danny's clutched
fingers; a look of
triumph flashing across his freckled face, Cammie grabbed the
other
letters. Tripping on his long trousers, Cammie looked over his
shoulder
and snapped, "Leave me 'lone! I just wanna see what
else my other brother did at
school." His brow furrowed and
his little pink tongue peeking out between his
lips, Cammie read
the next letter slowly.
"Mrs.
O'Neill, Charlie has been given a week's detention starting
immediately.
For his age, it is only appropriate for Charlie to
sit with me at recess time
and not to be allowed to play with the
other children. I am very sorry to have
to do this, but we cannot
have other children's lunch boxes opened and contents
swapped with
another. I have warned Charlie twice before and have sent home
a
note. I realize that with your husband away a lot of the time,
Charlie misses
him, but I must consider the other children's
health."
Waving
the yellowed letter in the air and laughing happily, Cam
conveniently
ignored the result of Charlie's naughtiness and
recited his sins word for word.
"Swapped lunches? Blended
paints to make crazy colors? Fill backpacks with
leaves?"
Cammie grinned and looming over Daniel, he smiled silently.
'Daddy
never said anything so he musta thought it was funny! I bet
that's why Sara
never replied, she thought Miss. Egg-brain was
just being a typical dorky
teacher.' Jumping up and down on the
spot, still clutching the letter in his
fist, Cam nudged Dan and
assured him, "Bet Jack and Sara thought it was the
funniest
ole thing ev-ah."
Danny
sucked his bottom lip in and chewed on it thoroughly. He wasn't sure
how
he knew, but he did. He was certain Jack wouldn't have
laughed. He just knew
Jack and Sara would have dealt with the
little boy firmly. Gulping, he was
suddenly very glad he wasn't
Charlie Tyler O'Neill.
A sudden noise caught his ears. "Uh, Cammie?"
"What?"
his brother demanded grumpily, looking up from his perusal of
Charlie's
school letters.
"I think Daddy just started the weed-whacker."
"Uh-oh,"
Cammie agreed. Frantically, the two boys began stripping off
the
borrowed grown-up clothes and stuffing them back into the
dusty garment bags.
Boxes were hastily repacked and shoved back
toward where they boys thought
they'd originally been placed.
Feeling slightly panicked Daniel flapped his
hands in the air.
"Cam? Is this where Daddy's clothes box was? Cam! Look!
Stop
reading that dumb letter!"
"Huh?
Okay, fine, it looks fine!" Rolling his eyes, Cam couldn't have
cared
less. Boxes were boxes and it was all the same to him.
Scanning the room and
then pointing his finger, he said, "Nope,
that box goes there!" Kicking at it to
push it along, Cam
achieved in five minutes what would have taken Daniel an
hour.
"There, it's perfect now! Daddy'll ne-vah know!" Patting
Daniel on the
back, he added, "Come 'on, if he catches us,
we'll be in for it!"
Nodding
his head, Danny planted his small fists on his hips and gave the
attic a
last cursory inspection. Slapping his hand against his
forehead and squeaking
with horror, he said, "Oh, we forgot
to put back Charlie's box!" He reached for
it, but Cammie
swept it up and wrapped his arms around it.
"Nuh-uh," the little general declared. "I'm not fin'shed readin' yet."
Danny thrust out his lower lip. "We have to put it back, Cammie."
"We'll
put it back the next time. C'mon, Danny, we haf to get down before
Daddy
comes in the house!"
Reluctantly,
the little archaeologist nodded and followed his more
adventurous
brother down the steep staircase into the upstairs
hall closet. They heaved the
ladder back up into its locked
position, then used broomstick handles to push
the door the rest
of the way back into the ceiling. Just as Cammie climbed off
the
closet shelf, Danny heard the mudroom door shut. Peering out the
closet
door, the two boys decided the coast was clear enough and
dashed for their
rooms.
"Whew!"
"You can sure say that again!"
"Whew!"
0808080
Wiping
the sweat off his face, Jack headed for the refrigerator and the
promise
of a cold beer. Upstairs, he heard thunderous footsteps,
and he shook his head
in wonder. Today was a designated chores
day, with Jack spending it mowing the
yard while the boys were
supposed to be cleaning their rooms. From the sounds
of the
scampering feet, though, Daniel and Cameron hadn't spent their
time
wisely. Messy rooms meant no movies tonight, and he knew the
boys had been
looking forward to going to see the latest Disney
cartoon.
Popping
the cap off the bottle, he took a swig - then walked to the base of
the
stairs. "How are those rooms coming?" he hollered,
pressing the cool glass to
his forehead briefly. When no answer
came, he shook his head. "I'm going to
take a shower. When I
get finished, your quarters had better be ready for
inspection,
airmen!"
"Yes,
Daddy!" Cammie and Danny shouted back. Little feet thudded
across the
floor again, and Jack chuckled to himself and headed
for the master bath.
His
boys were pretty well behaved youngsters, though Cammie had a
tendency to
make trouble for himself by engaging in all manner of
wild stunts. Danny rarely
actively sought trouble, but just as it
had when he was an adult under Jack's
command, trouble always
managed to find him. When it came to their chores, both
boys
grumbled but eventually did what they were told. Cammie was always
faster
and more efficient at cleaning his room than Danny was--he
probably had his
barely-remembered military training to thank for
that--because the pint-sized
archaeologist was so easily
distracted, and not always by his mischievous
brother.
"Oh,
this is going to be good, I just know it." Stripping off his
sweaty clothes
and leaving them in a pile, Jack turned the taps
and turned his mind to what to
prepare for dinner.
He
took his time with his shower, enjoying the feel of warm water
sluicing over
his grimy skin, and hoping the boys would take the
opportunity to properly
finish their rooms. He didn't want to see
objects stuffed into drawers and
closets like the last time, and
had made this very clear to his wide-eyed boys
in the stern
lecture, which followed. Jack only hoped it had stuck with them.
Finally,
he was clean, dry, and dressed. "Ready or not," he
announced as he
started up the steps, "here I come."
As
expected, there was a last frantic scramble of little feet, then the
little
airmen appeared at the door of Danny's room. As always, the
blond-haired boy's
guilt was evident in his posture--wrapped in a
self-contained hug and refusing
to meet his dad's gaze--but to
Jack's surprise, his darker-haired boy was just
as shifty.
Scanning the boys' rooms and forcing down the knowing smile
which
threatened to take over his face, Jack knew that if he
scratched the surface, an
avalanche of clothes and toys would
topple on top of the wide-eyed little boys.
Tapping
his foot and using his very best general voice, he asked, "So,
airmen,
everything where it should be? Nothing stashed under the
beds? Drawers not full
of Legos and toy cars?" Arms folded
casually across his stomach, Jack crossed
his ankles, pinning the
nervous children with a stern look.
Shuffling
his bare feet and scrunching his toes into the rug, Cammie took a
deep
breath and let loose with the best strategy he'd been able to
come up with on
such short notice. "Daddy, I always help
Danny 'cause he's not as 'squared
away' as me, but Danny and me
couldn't tidy our rooms proper! Look!" Grabbing
Danny's left
hand in his right, and holding both of their hands in the air
only
briefly, Cammie tackled his daddy's knees howling a pitiful
sob. "My hand is
hurt, and Danny's fingers were bent
backwards!" Clenching his fist and yelping
for added
sympathy, Cammie rubbed his nose back and forth on Jack's jeans.
"It
was horrible, Daddy, I thought Danny's fingers would snap
off!"
Looking
from one tear stained little face to the other; Jack tried to
process
the new and terrible information, puzzling only briefly
over why the boys hadn't
said anything when they first came home.
Lightly brushing Danny's hand and
wincing as the little
archaeologist cringed, Jack hunkered to his knees and said
kindly,
"Was it a fight at school? Did you tell Miss Bumstead? Have I
got a note
about this?"
"N-n-note?"
Daniel couldn't control his horrified stammer, and looking
stunned,
repeated feebly, "N-n-note?"
"Mm.
Should have had a note about something like this. Cam, check your
bag; I'll
check Danny's."
"No
note, Daddy! They all got us behind the swings, Mizz Bumstead
wouldn't've
seen!" Cam rolled his shoulders and let one
little white lie after the other
roll of his tongue.
Daniel
felt the room spin, and it was all he could do not to fall over
in
terror. He had just opened his mouth to explain that there was
no fight and his
fingers were fine, but Cam jumped in quickly.
"Billy McNamara started it! He's
a bully, an' he picks on us
all the time!" Swiping at his eyes, Cam grabbed his
brother's
hand and murmured, "Ack-tcha-lee, Daddy, it's Danny he's mostly
mean
to! I just stepped in to 'tect him! We soldiers never leave
anyone behind,
right?" Blinking up at his daddy with soulful
eyes, Cam managed just the right
amount of tears to shine and only
threaten to spill. "Daddy, are you mad at me
for not 'tectin'
Danny betta?"
"What?
No, of course not!" Jack was a canny man, a keen diplomat, and a
smart
soldier, but he was also a complete sucker when it came to
his blue-eyed
children. He looked at the morose, freckled little
faces, and felt a lump
constrict in his throat. 'Crap,' he
thought, 'it's those swimming lessons all
over again! How do I
miss these things? Danny bullied? Cammie beat up? Oh,
Miss
Bumstead will be hearing from me!'
Sweeping
the children into a warm hug, he whispered into Cam's ear, "It's
okay,
Daddy will make sure this McNamara kid leaves you guys
alone!" Rocking back
onto the heels of his shoes and throwing
his hand down to balance himself, he
added softly, "Let's
just enjoy the movie tonight so you two can forget about
those
sore little hands." Kissing Cam's fingers and making him giggle;
General
Jonathan O'Neill inwardly promised dire retribution to
anyone who dare hurt his
blue-eyed boys.
For
his part, Cammie couldn't believe he'd gotten himself and Danny off
so
easily. After their daddy went back downstairs to start dinner,
he pulled his
open-mouthed brother into his room and pulled the
door shut. "You owe me big
time, Danny!" he crowed
triumphantly. Jumping onto Daniel's bed and kicking legs
in the
air, Cam grinned happily. "Well? Wotch-'a gonna say? Thanks,
Cam! You're
a genius!"
"Geroff
my bed, fly dope!" Daniel wasn't so sure about any of this.
Shrugging
his shoulders, he knew Jack was nowhere near as gullible
as he sometimes
pretended. "You shouldn't have lied to
Daddy," he protested, wrapping his arms
around himself and
sitting on the edge of his bed. "What if he calls Miss
Bumstead
and she says we weren't in a fight?"
The
little colonel rolled his eyes. "Pfff... It's Friday, an'
Daddy'll probably
forget by Monday. What's the big deal? We're not
in trouble, an' we woulda
been if Daddy'd looked at our rooms!"
Danny
wrung his fingers fretfully. "I suppose so," he agreed
reluctantly. "But
what if he finds out we lied, Cammie? We'll
be in big, big trouble, then!"
Thinking of the spare room and
the dire connotations of visiting it with their
daddy, Dan
swallowed noisily. "You shouldn't have lied!"
"Don't
go tattlin' an' he won't find out!" Cam declared with the
confidence of a
natural-born leader. "C'mon, Danny! An' don't
you go 'n' forget your hand
hurts, 'member?
"
0808080
The
weekend passed reasonably uneventfully, but then Jack invited Sara
for
Sunday lunch. At the table, he told her about the boys' fight
at school, and
Cammie was all-too happy to nod and clutch his
"wounded" hand in all the
appropriate places. He was
proud of how heroic and brave he sounded in the
story, sticking up
for his brother. Danny was too busy being a stick-in-the-mud
to
enjoy any sympathetic attention that might come his way, but at least
he
hadn't tattled yet.
Sara
listened and instantly smelled a chocolate chip cookie-eating little
rat.
She arched her eyebrow at Cammie when the story was finished.
"Mm, that must
have been scary, boys. Cameron, where was your
teacher?" Watching the casual
little shoulder roll, Sara
couldn't help but remember another shifty little boy.
Tapping her
lips with her index finger, she recalled Charlie was about Cam's
age
when he had started to tell little white lies. Looking at Jack
and seeing he
believed every word, Sara decided to dig a little
deeper.
"That
right, Cam? How is it that we have only just heard about this
terrible
schoolyard bully?" Snapping her fingers and watching
Danny's color drain from
his face, she ordered, "Daniel, run
and get me the playmates list; I'll see if I
recognize the
family."
Danny
blinked and lowered his eyes, feeling the room spin again. He didn't
hear
her repeat the request--the blood was pounding too loudly in
his ears. He knew
if they were caught out in the lie, it would
straight to the spare bedroom for
the dreaded smacked bottom,
followed by early bedtimes or no ice cream... or
worse, both!
Stuttering and feeling his eyes begin to water, Danny slipped
his
hands behind his jean-clad butt and opened his mouth to
confess to the heinous
crime.
Sensing
his brother wavering and well aware of the consequences, Cam
quickly
interrupted. "Oh no, Sara, there's no point!
McNamara's are a milit'ry family,
and his daddy is away in
Afa-gah-in-stand now. Mrs. McNamara had ta moved back
East to be
with her momma, and so we won't have to worry anymore! He had a
going
away party this weekend, but Danny and me weren't invited! Ever 'one
else
was 'cept us!" Sniffing dramatically and batting his
eyelashes, he murmured,
"'Sides, Danny is my best friend, and
I don' need anyone else."
Turning
in his chair and giving Danny a subtle kick to his tender shin,
Cam
narrowed his eyes and repeated, "If I haf my brother, I
don' need anyone else!"
Looking
at Cammie with horror and seeing the adults smiling with pride,
Danny
felt sick. This was deceitful and wrong, and the lies were
piling up thick and
fast. Ordinarily, he did everything within his
powers to stay out of trouble,
but Cam gleefully trod a fine line.
At the moment, Danny was fearful he'd
topple off that fine line
himself. "It doesn't matter how big you are," Jack
once
told his boys, not long after their short foray into the legal field,
"a
man's integrity is too precious to sell." Suddenly,
Danny didn't think getting
to see that movie Friday was worth the
price, but if he tattled now, Cammie
would never forgive him.
"That's what brothers do," he agreed morosely.
0808080
"Jack
O'Neill, you've been hoodwinked," Sara declared, helping her
ex-husband
clear the dishes while the boys dashed outside to play.
"Have I, now?" Jack asked, adopting a look of feigned shock.
"Mmhmm... you know darn good and well that Cameron was fibbing," she accused.
Jack
shrugged. "You saw how uncomfortable Danny was with the whole
thing. I'd
bet Cammie was giving things a little spin so that
Danny wouldn't feel so bad
about being teased at school. Daniel
always--" He caught himself before he let
slip that the adult
Daniel had always been a target for bullies. "Daniel's
usually
so shy and quiet," he amended.
Sara
rolled her eyes. "Remember Charlie at that age? How he'd tell
whoppers to
his teacher, mess with the other students' belongings,
and pretend all the while
his imaginary friend 'Jake' was
responsible for any wrong-doings?" She shook
her head in
dismay, remembering the letters sent home that were eventually
found
stashed in Charlie's keepsake box, but not until after the
exasperated teacher
had had the school principal phone the
O'Neills to find out why nothing was
being done about Charlie's
behavior. Charlie had been grounded for two whole
months for that
fiasco.
"I'll
keep an eye out for imaginary friends, then," Jack grinned
impishly. "I
don't think we'll have to worry about it,
though, since Charlie had an imaginary
friend 'cause he was an
only child, and he missed me. I'm home now, and Daniel
and Cameron
have each other, and like they said earlier, that's all they need."
Warming up to the idea, he continued, "They'll help each
other, protect each
other, and keep each other out of trouble.
It's what brothers do."
Still
looking skeptical, Sara plopped the last plate into the dishwasher
and
crossed her arms. "Unlike you, Jack, I had brothers
growing up. Believe me
when I say those boys are going to be far
better at keeping themselves in
trouble than they are keeping one
another out of it."
"Maybe."
"Definitely!"
0808080
As
Cammie had predicted, Jack forgot all about calling Miss Bumstead
on
Monday--though the little colonel couldn't have known his daddy
forgot only
because of a late-to-report team. Faced with proof
that his boisterous brother
was right about their teacher not
being called, Danny relaxed a little and dared
to hope that the
whole lying incident might be forgotten. He even vowed to keep
his
room clean all week so that he wouldn't have to panic again on
Friday, but
that promise lasted only until late Monday evening,
when he forgot all about it
and left books and clothes strewn
everywhere following a frantic search for his
favorite yo-yo.
Everything
came crashing back to him Tuesday, when he dipped his brush in
the
yellow paint and found himself smearing purple and muddy brown
streaks on his
rendering of the Great Pyramids. Horrified that
he'd accidentally ruined his
painting by dipping his brush in the
wrong pot, Danny checked and discovered
that someone had poured
purple paint into the jar of yellow. Feeling his heart
pound with
dread, he turned to see Cammie looking terribly pleased with
himself
as he painted a fighter jet with a brush full of
intermixed blue and orange
paints.
"Cammie!"
he hissed, looking around frantically to see if anyone else
had
noticed the messed-up paints. "Why'd you do that?"
"I di'n't do it," Cammie whispered back, "Jake did it!"
"Who's
Jake?" Danny asked, brow crinkling as he worked his way through
the
playmate list.
"Charlie's
best friend Jake," his brother replied, rolling his eyes as
though
the answer should have been obvious.
Danny's
mouth made a surprised "oh". "Cammie! Oh, Cammie, you
shouldn't have
done that! What if Miss Bumstead sends a note home
to Daddy?"
"She
won't," the little colonel answered confidently, "unless
you tattle. You
aren't gonna tattle, are ya Danny?" Shifting
close to his brother, Cam brushed
his fingers past Danny's and
gave them a quick squeeze. "M'ember, we're each
ov'ers
bestest friends!"
Glancing
between his ruined painting and the sabotaged pots of paint,
Danny
frowned seriously and thought hard about what he wanted to
do. Letting his
fingers stay in Cams, Daniel sighed softly,
knowing he could never get his
brother into trouble.
"Please
don't tattle on me, Danny! Somebody had to've tattled on Charlie;
else,
he wouldn't've had a letter sent home to Daddy and Sara. I
bet they were lots
mad when they got that, and I don't want Sara
or Daddy to be lots mad at me."
Seeing
the earnest expression on his brother's face, Danny gave in and
nodded.
"I won't tattle on you, Cammie."
"Cross your heart an' hope to die?"
Danny
gulped. Dying didn't sound at all fun. "Cross my heart," he
promised,
"but I don' wanna die."
0808080
The
trip to the market had been odd. Usually the little family shopped
happily,
Jack calling out what he wanted and a blonde projectile
scampering away to fetch
it. The children would cheerfully debate
which cereal was better, and ignoring
the hopeful sugar-laden
selection, Jack dumped in the standard box of Cheerios.
After
shopping-- providing their behavior didn't embarrass the crap out
of
him--there were milkshakes and chocolate muffins for a morning
snack.
Today,
the kids walked around silently, pointedly ignoring each other. When
Jack
had suggested the great treat, Dan and Cam sat silently,
glowering at each other
and slurping their flavored milk loudly.
Drinking his coffee and finally giving
up on trying to get them to
chat, the General sighed and said, "Okay, obviously
you boys
need a nap, come on, you can finish the muffins at home."
"Not
tired, Daddy!" grumbled Daniel, edging as far away from Cam's
swinging feet
as he could. "Ow! Daddeee, he kicked me!"
"Di'n't
Daddy! My foot slipp'd!" Glowering and poking his tongue out
when he was
sure Jack wasn't looking, Cam muttered, "Only
tattlin' babies need to nap,
right, Daniel?"
"Shut up!"
"Make me!"
"Flydork!"
"Word geek!"
"Enough!
That's a one and a two for the pair of you knuckleheads, and a
three
will mean sitting on smacked bottoms. Now, I mean it, no
more running tales,
Daniel! Cameron, if your foot feels the urge
to slip again, I'll be very
irritated. Clear?"
"Yes, Daddy, but he started it!"
"Yup, an' I nev-ah!"
Narrowing
his eyes at the warring parties, Jack growled his final warning
and
hurried them to the truck. He didn't mind leaving the mall
early, the game was
on and he had a million and one chores to do.
Buckling the boys in and handing
them their toys, he turned up the
radio and tuned into a game.
Glowering
quietly in the backseat, mindful of their last warning, the two
best
friends folded their arms, both lost in troubled and
not-so-troubled thoughts.
Cam couldn't understand why his brother
was so worried: as far as he was
concerned they were home free.
Daniel hated the idea of keeping secrets, and the
wiser of the
two, knew they trod a fine line.
Opening
the back door of the truck and watching the boys exit their car
seats
like bullets; Jack grabbed the grocery bags, and shrugging,
leaned against the
door to listen to the final play of the
morning. "Oh crap! Who's playing this
game? Tinkerbelle and
the faeries from the bottom of the garden?" Snorting
with
disgust at the score, he forgot all about his oddly-behaved
children... for as
long as it took him to get up the front walk
and across the porch.
Jack
heard his children bickering from the moment he walked into the
house.
Raising his eyes and dumping the groceries onto the kitchen
table, he listened
curiously. The boys rarely bickered, but
something had obviously irritated the
crap out of them. By the
sounds of the spiteful comments flying back and forth,
it was each
other.
Down
the hallway, the high-pitched sounds of recriminations flew thick
and
fast. "You are such a stoopid rock dweeb! Wish I put
black in your paint pot! "
Shaking
his head, Jack heard the indignant little dweeb hotly refute
the
outrageous claim. "Am not! Least I'm not a fly dope and a
paint vandal! I'm so
telling Daddy on you!"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah!"
Jack
sighed, and shining an apple on his jacket, strolled down the hallway
to
play his stern, parental role. Taking a huge bite from the
apple, he grinned
wolfishly and murmured, "Have an apple,
boys, what could go wrong." Walking into
the bedroom and
clearing his throat loudly, Jack growled, "Children? Tell
Daddy
what exactly?"
Danny
jumped with fright, and open-mouthed, he whirled around to face
the
unexpected and unwanted intruder. Swallowing and feeling his
cheeks burn, he
squeaked, "Daddy! Nothing, Cam and I were
just playing Marines." Lowering his
head, Danny hated that
lies now fell so easily from his own mouth.
Cam
stood frozen with horror and shock, his brain trying to process
the
undeniable fact that Jack must have heard their conversation.
Opening his mouth,
the little colonel felt torn between the desire
to howl or throw a spectacular
tantrum. He thought this all
Danny's fault, if he hadn't threatened to tell
Sara, he wouldn't
have yelled about the paint pots. Swallowing nervously and
searching
his mind for the perfect get out of jail free lie, Cam looked
into
Jack's face and smiled hopefully.
Bunching
his hands on his hips, Cam took a deep breath and started his new
line
of truth, Cameron O'Neill style. "Yup! "S'right,
Daddy, I was 'tendin' to be
Major Griff and Danny here's bein'
Col'nel Dixon." Shrugging with his Southern
boyish charm, he
added," Wanna stay 'n play? You can fly the Mothaship if
ya
wanna!"
Sara's
words filtering slowly through his brain, Jack searched one little
boy's
face and then the other. Cam slouched with practiced
nonchalance, hands shoved
into his overstuffed jeans pockets and
ball cap on backward. His red t-shirt was
crumpled and slightly
stained, and naturally, his socks were mismatched. Yep,
Jack
thought, nothing wrong there. Swiveling around, he studied his
other
child's face and arched an interested eyebrow.
Mm,
this is the look of the condemned and the damned. Daniel stood
ramrod
straight, his eyes blinking quickly and his fingers
clenching and unclenching
nervously. Shifting the weight from one
foot to the other, the little
archaeologist looked as though he
would burst into tears at any moment.
Determined
to stop the morning's nonsense before it ended in those tears,
Jack
narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. "Anything
you feel like
sharing with me, Daniel?" Moving closer to his
intended victim, he added, "Maybe
you'd like to explain to me
why you were saying those mean things to your
brother?"
Kneeling down and grabbing his hands, Jack added firmly, "We've
talked
before about how we talk to each other in this family, and
I think an afternoon
tidying the playroom by yourself might jog
your memory."
Turning
the open-mouthed boy around and pointing to the door, he patted
the
jean-clad little bottom sharply and ordered, "Move,
mister! I'll call you for
lunch." Wagging his fingers for Cam
to take, Jack said in a tone that didn't
match the lightness his
words, "Come on, peanut, you can help put away the
groceries
and tell me what you were really fighting about."
Cameron spent the weekend perpetuating his campaign of lies and misinformation.
Danny spent his weekend tidying rooms and sulking about life's many injustices.
Gently
interrogating one child and then the other, General O'Neill decided
to
delegate, and call in the diplomatic corp. "Sara? Now's
good, actually. Come
for a cup of coffee and a slice of insanity?"
Laughing softly, Jack explained
the worsening state of affairs
surrounding Team O'Neill.
Placing
the phone into its cradle and throwing her keys in the air,
Sara
muttered, "Well, who knew those boys weren't up to any
good." Switching the
alarm on and watching the red button
flash obediently, she added, "Oh, hang on!
I did."
Shaking her head, she wondered how she could make Jack see a
little
blue-eyed terrorist was manipulating him.
0808080
"Cameron,"
Danny hissed in horror," that's Nicky's snack, and you shouldn't
have
eaten it! Oh, no! Why are you opening Jordan's lunch box?
Hey, you can't swap
that! Suppose he doesn't like banana and jam
sandwiches?" Danny shuddered at the
thought of the food
combination and thought privately that swapping was the best
thing
in the end. He didn't like Nicky, and rubbing his arm, looked at
the
purple bruise still evident.
Poking
his tongue out, Cam's face crinkled into a mischievous grin. "What's
the
good of being a hall monitor if you can't get back at the
bullies?" His sweet
voice taking an odd tone of menace and
cunning, he scowled. "Nicky's always
pickin' on ya, Dan. Now,
let's see how he likes bein' tattled on!"
0808080
Miss
Bumstead rubbed her eyes tiredly, worried about Cam's imaginary
and
extremely naughty friend, Jake. She had written two letters to
General O'Neill
outlining her concerns, but received no response.
Sighing and tapping her pencil
on her desk, she decided to allow
Cam to be a joint hall monitor with Danny,
hoping the responsible
little boy would rub off on his high-spirited and
occasionally
irresponsible brother
Imaginary
friends, she read, were a child's coping mechanism or the result
of
loneliness or bullying. She watched Cameron carefully and knew
he was a
popular--if slightly forceful--little boy. No, she had
decided, that is neither
a bullied nor a lonely child. Sighing
with regret, she figured Cam's behavior
was plain attention
seeking, and he merely enjoyed showing off.
The
tears and tantrums following lunch had astounded the normally
unflappable
Miss Bumstead. Children ran crying to her, shoving
empty lunch boxes or soggy
banana sandwiches under her nose. Empty
candy wrappers were duly investigated,
bitten apples were
discarded, and lunch money handed to the starving and
inexplicably
lunch-less. Narrowing her eyes at the sight of the whistling
child,
and the uncomfortable-looking boy next to him, Miss
Bumstead knew she had made
an error in judgment. "Cameron
O'Neill, come here this instant! Daniel O'Neill,
you can just
follow right behind!"
"Yes,
Mizz Bumstead?" Blinking with wide-eyed innocence, Cam searched
his
thoughts for the quickest and easiest lie to spin to his
teacher. "I don't know
who made this mess, but I think it
coulda bin Jake!"
Daniel
groaned. "Shut up, Cameron, you'll only make this worse."
Shuffling
forward, picturing all his carefully earned green stars
disappearing, the little
archaeologist heard the tapping of the
gallows being built all around him. "We
are so going to get
it now!"
"Nope! 'Member, it's all Jake's fault!"
"So going to get it."
Sitting
in the lunchroom and stirring another sugar into her tea, Miss
Bumstead
sought her peer's advice. "Cameron O'Neill is a
sweetie, but gosh! Is he acting
up! When I call him on his
behavior, he swears it's not him but his friend Jake.
I've sent a
couple of messages home to his father, General O'Neill, but so
far
I've heard nothing from him." Dimpling and throwing her
head back, she added
quietly, "More's the pity!"
Looking
up from her crossword puzzle, the family name tweaking a long
forgotten
memory, Mrs. Spears, nee Ebert, cleared her throat
discreetly. "Uma? Tell me,
is General O'Neill an Air Force
man? Tall, wiry, and a good sense of humor?
Married to a blonde
woman called Susan? Samantha? No!" she exclaimed
with
satisfaction, "it was Sally!"
Shaking
her red curls and making them bounce prettily, Uma said, "Oh,
no! Jack,
er, General O'Neill isn't married! I'm certain he's a
single parent." A
predatory look of determination crossing
her face, she nodded her head with
finality. "No, I haven't
met anyone called Sally O'Neill."
Shrugging
her shoulders and picking up her pencil, taking a thoughtful
chew,
Mrs. Spears muttered, "Mm, why does that name and these
pranks sound so familiar
then?" The sounds of laughing
children broke her thoughts, and Mrs. Spears
pushed the worrisome
conversation to the back of her mind.
080808
Called
to stay back after class, Cameron and Daniel slid back into their
chairs
and gulping, threw guilty glances at each other. Miss
Bumstead had thought long
and hard about Cameron's prank, and
feeling slightly irked by the mention of a
Mrs. O'Neill, took
matters into her manicured hands. Prepared to accept an
apology on
behalf of the class, she listened with exasperation as Cam
shifted
the blame to his imaginary friend. "I declare,
Cameron O'Neill, you have just
gone too far." Tapping Daniel
on the nose, she added, "And I am very
disappointed with my
little hall monitor." Dropping his eyes to the floor,
Daniel
nodded his head and whispered an apology.
"Sorry,
Miss Bumstead, I understand if you have to appoint a new hall
monitor."
The look of such profound misery on Danny's face
caught at Uma's heart, and she
promised she would think about any
punishments very carefully. Spearing her gaze
towards Cam, she
frowned as she came face to face with his cheeky grin. "'Spose
Jake
can be the new monitor!" Dropping his eyes to the floor, Cam
stifled the
giggle that threatened to escape. This had been a
great game, and the little
colonel was enjoying himself far too
much to consider the result of this day's
work.
Uma
Bumstead considered the result all too well and put into motion
events that
would eventually bring Cam's tricks and scams under
full parental scrutiny.
Still oblivious, Cam thought about the
backpacks he'd hidden in the girls'
locker rooms and threw his
hand over his mouth to stop laughing. The two
bag-less boys were
frantic, and howling their outrage, walked hand-in-hand with
the
wincing gym teacher. Glancing at the miserable boys and then back to
Cam's
smug face, Uma rolled her eyes.
"No,
I don't think that will be necessary, Cameron." She decided this
game had
gone on far too long and guiding them towards the
principal's office, she made
her decision. Calling Jack at home,
she took a deep breath and outlined exactly
what had transpired at
school that day.
"General
O'Neill? It's Uma Bumstead. Miss Bumstead. Cameron's teacher?
Yes,
that's right, the redhead." Dimpling with pleasure at
the warm voice on the end
of the phone, she almost regretted
having to explain her call. Almost.
A
dedicated teacher, she had growing concerns over Cammie's imaginary
friend,
Jake, and wanted the small boy to understand the meaning
of cause and effect.
The more Cam thought he could get away with
blaming Jake, the bolder his
naughtiness became, and finally, the
swapping of food had been his downfall.
Picturing buck-toothed
Molly Millhouse, peanut butter cookie halfway to her
mouth, made
Uma shiver. Allergic to nuts, the little girl would have been
in
serious trouble, and all because of a thoughtless prank. No,
she decided, Jake
the fake is leaving school today!
Listening
to the blunt conversation regarding his child's list of crimes,
Jack
closed his eyes and felt the room spin out of control. Mrs.
Spears may have
forgotten who the prankster had been all those
years ago, but he hadn't. "This
can't be happening? Jake? An
imaginary friend called Jake?"
Grabbing
a kitchen chair and half falling into it, Jack recalled a
similar
discussion about another naughty boy, with another
kindhearted teacher. Charlie,
he thought, these are the half-assed
stunts Charlie pulled! When Uma's insistent
voice roused him from
his thoughts, Jack tersely agreed that he would be there.
"Give
me fifteen minutes; I would like to bring a family friend if that's
okay."
Giving Uma no chance to agree or disagree, the general
terminated the
conversation before he became emotional and made a
fool of himself. "Sara, I'll
call Sara, she'll know what to
do."
Twisting
the cord in her fingers and replaying the conversation in her mind,
Uma
smiled. "Friend! I knew there was no Sally O'Neill!"
Jumping to her feet and
crooking her finger at the O'Neill boys,
she said sternly, "Okay, we will have
an afternoon snack and
then your daddy should be here. We have a lot to discuss,
don't
we, Cameron?" Watching the smug little boy's face blanch, she
almost
wavered, but remembering the lunchtime chaos, she hardened
her resolve. "No,
that sad little boy act isn't going to
work, mister, and if you even think to
blame anyone but yourself,
I will be very annoyed. You are going to have to face
the
consequences of your actions."
Seeing
the flat look of disapproval on his pretty teacher's face,
Cam
figured his Southern charm wasn't going to wash. It finally
dawned on him that
he'd gone too far, and with the luxury of
hindsight, wondered what possessed him
to think Charlie's pranks
had sounded so funny. Daniel had tried to tell him
that Jack and
Sara would have been furious, but he'd refused to listen.
Irritated
teachers glaring at him, class bullies glaring at him, and
the
knowledge that Jack was on his way made him feel sick.
Slumping into his chair,
he swallowed noisily and thought of a
certain spare bedroom that probably would
have his name printed on
its door.
From
the corner of his eye, Dan saw Nicky Rossi and Billy McNamara bunch
their
chubby little fists at him, and closing his eyes, felt the
promised ache of a
dead arm.
All
in all, the day had been a disaster and would only get worse. With
their
freckled faces burning with shame, Cam and Dan shifted
uncomfortably on blue
plastic chairs outside the principal's
office, waiting for the sword of Damocles
to fall.
0808080
"Sara?
It's Jack. Let's get one thing squared away: you were right about
the
boys and I was wrong. Okay? They are up to their necks in
mischief, but you are
not going to believe how." Rubbing his
hand through his hair, mindful of how
painful the memory would be,
Jack explained about Cameron, vandalized paint
cartons, squashed
banana sandwiches, and the revival of the fake Jake. "So, how
do
you think my monkeys found out about Charlie's pranks?" Waiting
for Sara to
catch her breath, Jack played with the coins in his
pockets, anything to keep
his hands busy. "Sara?"
"Yup, I'm here. Well, that's sure a blast from the past. What's the plan?"
"United we stand, divided I fall into a mess?"
"So, flyboy, nothing's changed then."
The
warm surety of her voice calming him, Jack finally let out the breath
he'd
been holding. Searching the tabletops and eventually patting
his pockets down
for his keys, he puzzled, "Sara, I just
don't get this! How on Earth could
Cammie have known about those
stunts Charlie pulled over a decade ago? Did you
tell him?"
Pinching
the bridge of his nose with his fingers, Jack felt the years fall
away.
Blinking, he pictured Charlie, head bent, confessing to all
his heinous crimes
against innocent paints, squished sandwiches,
and lost library books. There had
been hell to pay, and Charlie
never hid notes in his little shoebox again. Of
course, Jack
thought sadly, he hadn't had the time. In a few short years, he
had
been gone. "Oh, Charlie."
Hearing
the dull ache in Jack's voice, Sara closed her eyes. On a lovely
spring
day, years ago, she had sat in her kitchen and worried.
Charlie had been playing
the fool, and fed up, she warned him,
"Daddy will be home soon." He adored his
daddy, and when
Jack had to go away, missed him terribly. One day, unexpectedly,
he
dreamt up an imaginary friend called Jake. Jake was everything
Charlie
wasn't. He was messy, he was rude, and he played cruel
tricks. Sara despaired,
and tried everything she could think to
make Charlie take responsibility for his
own actions. Eventually,
the principal had rung, and when Jack came home that
week, he put
Jake to bed once and for all. Now, unbelievably, she was having
the
same conversation, with the same man, about the same problem,
ten years later.
Different kid, though, she thought sadly.
Shaking
her head, she decided to put the past where it belonged and deal
with
the present. She had a very good idea where Cam got the Jake
idea. "No, Jack,
why would I? That child doesn't need any
hints from me to get into God-awful
mischief. My guess, flyboy,
would be Charlie's box of tricks. Remember, the
shoebox Pops gave
him for his baseball cards?" Sara sighed softly at the memory
of
the little box with the Labrador puppy on it, and brushed away an
errant
tear. Taking a deep breath and pushing her sadness away for
the time being, she
murmured, "Didn't you store Charlie's
things in the attic last spring?" Phone
hunched under her
chin as she raced through the house looking for keys and bag,
she
panted, "I'll meet you at the school. After we get our
collective asses
smacked, we'll come home and discuss it as a
family, okay?"
"Meet
you there... and Sara? Yeah, we will, as a family." Placing the
phone in
its cradle, Jack sighed. "Okay, children, this had
so better be good."
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Walking
into the schoolyard, Sara coughed, and stared at the empty
swings
creaking in the warm breeze. This was going to be harder
than she thought.
Feeling Jack squeeze her hand, she nodded, and
lifted her chin in the air.
"Okay, I can do this. We need to
find room 511a." Counting the door numbers, she
exclaimed,
"Ah, here we are." Walking in, she looked around the
bright, cheery
classroom and felt her heart suddenly soar. A
feeling of optimism swept through
her, and even though she was
annoyed with the little pranksters, she knew they
never meant to
hurt her. Hiding her smile behind her hand, she searched out
the
boys' guilt ridden faces and shook her finger at them sternly.
"Well, well, this
is a fine state of affairs! "
"Hello,
Sara." Daniel looked at her beseechingly. "Sorry to make
you miss the
Bold and the Beautiful."
"Howdy,
Sara. Are you gonna take us home?" Cameron slid his eyes across
to
Jack's disapproving face, and sighing softly, added, "Please?"
"No
'hello Daddy'?" Jack growled, "And no, mister, she is not.
You and I have a
lot to discuss."
"Do we?"
"We do."
"Nuts!"
When
Sara and Jack walked in, arms casually linked, Uma's smile froze on
her
face, but shaking it off, got right down to business. If Jack
noticed the
exchange between Sara and Uma, he didn't comment. He
had been too busy glaring
at his fallen angels. The angels
themselves looked anywhere but back at him, and
for once, Cameron
wore a look of guilt that exceeded the one on Daniel's face.
Ignoring
the wordless warnings Jack sent the boys, thinking they
deserved
everything they had coming, Sara nodded at the young
teacher. "Miss Bumstead?
I'm Sara O'Neill." Holding her
hand out and smiling warmly, she allowed a tiny
smile to tug at
her lips as she took a seat. Patting the tiny chair next to her,
she
breathed, "Honey? Sit here?" Looking at the chair meant for
a six-year-old's
butt, the General groaned under his breath.
"Wonder where Charlie got his lame sense of humor from," hissed Jack.
"Oh,
probably the dubious Irish genes he had flowing through his veins.
Poor
kid."
"Yeah,
right." Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he felt
his
spirits surprisingly lift. If Sara could laugh about this,
then so could he. Not
that Cameron would be excused. Charlie had
learned his lesson, and he'd make
darn sure his littlest colonel
would as well. But boys will be boys, and he
figured he'd file
this drama away to be brought up and laughed over later. Much
later.
Much, much later. Like when Cameron had children of his own,
later.
Sitting on the chair made for people under four feet tall,
Jack looked at Sara
carefully.
Elbowing him gently, she whispered, "You're on, I believe. Go get 'em, tiger."
"Children,"
he growled. A crooked finger was all it took to have the boys,
dented
halos and all, shuffle across the room and stand at Jack's knees.
Cameron
bravely plastered a watery smile on his face, and looking
into the pair of stern
parental eyes, breathed, "Hello,
Daddy. Hello Sara, fancy meetin' ya'll here."
"Cameron," Jack and Sara said in unison, "be quiet."
Looking
up, chewing his lip with trepidation, Daniel waggled his fingers at
Sara
and sighed at Jack. "Are we going to get it? We are,
aren't we? We are sooo
going to get it. I told Cam, don't do it,
'cause we are going to get it!"
Feeling himself fly through
the air and bounce onto his dad's lap, Daniel
squeaked with
fright, "Oh, we are so going to get it!"
Cameron
was given a week's detention, meaning no recess or lunchtime
playing
with the other children. He had to sit with Miss Bumstead
and eat his food
alone. For a social little boy like Cam, there
could be no worse punishment.
He'd miss all the baseball games,
heads-up-seve-up tournaments, and the banned
Yu-gi-oh! card
swapping. Tears rolling down his face, he hugged his teacher's
leg
and promised that the imaginary Jake was kaput.
Daniel
had his hall monitor button confiscated and given to an ecstatic
Molly
Millhouse for an entire week. The shame and embarrassment of
being busted down
to a regular kid made him burst into noisy
tears, but Uma coolly stood her
ground. "Every action has a
cause and effect, Daniel. You knew what Cameron was
doing was
wrong and yet you said nothing. This is the price of
misguided
loyalty. "
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Tears
of regret were shed. Heartfelt promises earnestly made were
earnestly
accepted. Sent packing, Jake the fake exited the O'Neill
family home for the
second time. Growling, Jack made sure Cameron
understood who the real culprit
had been. "If I hear Jake is
back in town, I guarantee you will be one very
sorry little boy,
got it? "Sensing his daddy meant business, Cammie
quickly
decided imaginary friends weren't worth the trouble they
caused. " 'Kay, does
that mean I'm not in trouble now?"
"What
do you think? Pretending to being bullied? Causing all sorts of
trouble at
school? Dragging your brother into another harebrained
scheme?" Glaring at the
little archaeologist as he tried to
back out to the room, he wagged his finger
in the air. "Ahhttt!
Back you come! Gotta be somewhere, Daniel?" Snaking out an
arm
and corralling the little boy, Jack continued with his lecture.
"Cameron,
where was I? Riiight, how about making up stories
to wriggle out of chores?
Shall I continue?" Patting his lap,
Jack hauled Cam onto his knee and prodded
his belly, coolly
demanding, "Well, airman? "
"So, I am in trouble?"
Throwing
his hands in the air, Jack dumped Cam onto his feet and looking
at
Sara, sighed, "Tag, you're it."
"Oh,
please!" Sara held her hand out and gently took Cam's. Fixing
the squirming
child with a stern look, she said, "Cameron,
that little box had Charlie's name
on it, didn't it?" Seeing
the little boy nod a fraction, still looking at his
toes, Sara
continued. "So, what made you think you could take it? Did it
have
Cameron written anywhere on it?"
"Nuh-huh."
With another tiny shake of his head. Cam looked up at Sara's
kind
face, and started to cry again. "Least I don' think so."
Determined
to get through to the headstrong child, Sara squeezed his hand
and
continued, ignoring the tears that steadily fell. "Neither
do I! So, when you
and Daniel read letters that were clearly
addressed to your dad and me, you
invaded our privacy."
Lifting Cam's tear stained face to hers, she insisted,
"Cameron,
didn't you?"
"Yes, Ma'am." Misery and regret showed clearly on Cam's face.
Still,
Sara contined."You boys are old enough to know right from wrong,
so
explain to me, what made you take Charlie's stuff and hide it?
You could see
that he was caught, so why pull the same stunts? You
know, he was a very sorry
little boy once your daddy finished with
him. If you are so keen on being just
like Charlie, I guess the
punishment should be the same. Jack?"
"Come on, Cam, best you follow me."
Another
shrug, another sniff. "No! I don' wanna be just like Charlie
anymore!"
Nose red from crying, he whispered, "I only
took Charlie's stuff 'cos Dan knew
all 'bout Charlie, but I
didn't."
Sighing,
Jack asked, "All those pranks? Swapping the lunches? Hiding the
other
kids' bags?"
"Dunno,
jus 'cos they sounded like fun, I guess." Looking up and
shrugging
nonchalantly, Cam's honesty astounded Sara and amused
Jack. "I only hid Billy
McNamara and stinky Nicky Rossi's,
s'all. They're mean, an' always pickin' on
Dan, so, it served 'em
right." Unrepentant and loyal, Cam folded his arms.
Jutting
his chin out, he looked Jack squarely in the eye, daring him to say
he'd
been wrong. Cam would always protect his brother, no matter
what the
consequences may be.
A
feeling of love and pride for his little colonel overwhelmed Jack.
Looking
over at the freckled face child, eyes puffy from crying,
hand planted
protectively across his backside, Jack steeled
himself to play the stern parent.
He told Sara later that it had
been all he could do not to burst out laughing.
"Excuse me?"
he growled," serves them right to have no lunch? To have their
bags
put in the girls' locker room?" Rolling his eyes at
Sara, Jack muttered, "This
is what I have to put up with!"
Moving across the room and sitting on Cam's bed,
Jack said softly,
"Okay, the stupid stunts I'll deal with later, but for now,
go
and get me Charlie's shoe box."
Handing
over Charlie's shoebox of memories, Cameron knuckled his eyes
and
blinked away his tears. Truly remorseful for the trouble and
pain he'd caused,
he hugged Jack's neck tightly. Looking into his
daddy's sad, brown eyes, Cam
murmured, "I just wanted to be
like Charlie, is all." Sniffing miserably, he
added," He
sounded like such a cool kid!" Running his sleeve under his
nose, he
asked shyly, "Tell me more 'bout my other brother?"
Edging
closer, Daniel flung his arm around Cam's shoulder, and patting his
back,
asked, "Daddy, did Charlie like Captain Planet? Did you
watch it in bed Sunday
mornings like we do?"
Sara
sighed softly and looking into Jack's eyes, shrugged. Taking a
curious
little boy onto each of their laps, Sara and Jack
reminisced, and found
themselves talking freely for the first time
in years about their son. And for
the first time in years, they
laughed and cried together, as a family.
The End
