Not So Different

10. Leniency For A Second Offender

'That's funny', Jane said. 'That noise outside sounds almost like the Tank', she went on, using Trent's band's nickname for the drummer's van, often used by the others.

Trent turned slightly to look in her direction. 'I don't think so. Didn't I just get back from a rehearsal, or something?'

Jane shrugged. 'As far as I knew.' She went towards a window facing the street. 'So what's that?'

When she looked out, she saw a van, only vaguely like the Tank, pull up outside the Lane house. The side door opened and she could see three figures, two larger ones holding a smaller one between them. She squinted into the half-light for a moment and then ran for the front door, calling for Trent to come with her.

As she broke into the open, with a confused but willing Trent behind her, some rough stuff between the three figures in the van doorway ended with the smaller one being pitched out by the other two and falling heavily. The van's door was closed again and it took off, tyres squealing, before she could see any more. She stopped to crouch beside the spot where Sonny Morgendorffer was half-lying on the ground.

Behind her, Trent said, 'Hey, what was that?'

Jane half-turned her head and signalled to her brother to 'drop it' before speaking to Sonny.

'Hey, it's always good to see you, but isn't this a little late for a social call?'

Sonny just grunted something that sounded like 'oof … huff'.

Trent, who'd come over to them, said, 'Hey, are you okay, Sonny?'

Jane signalled to Trent again but Sonny answered him, stammering out one word, 'Winded.'

'In that case', Jane said casually, 'since we're out here anyway, why don't we give you a hand up?'

Sonny gave a slight nod. Jane started to help him rise and Trent, catching on, moved to Sonny's other side so they could get him up between them.

'Oh', Sonny said, swaying, 'little … giddy.'

'Well, there's no rush, is there?' said Jane. 'Nowhere we have to be, is there, Trent?' Her brother shook his head.

Quinn watched from behind a bush as a strange beaten-up old car parked in front of the Morgendorffer house. The driver, a scruffy guy she didn't recognise, got out and came round the car to the rear passenger door, which was being opened from the inside. The driver leaned down to help a passenger who was slowly getting out of the car. Then a second passenger came out the same door while the driver seemed to be helping the first passenger to the path. The second passenger shut the door and then joined the other two. Now they were all facing her and she could see that the first passenger was Sonny and the second was the weird artist girl from school he was spending so much time with, Jane Lane. Quinn still couldn't figure those two out. It was easy to see that Jane would never be really popular but there were always a few guys who'd be interested in that type of girl—although not if she spent all her spare time hanging out with Sonny, while Sonny wasn't going to date her or anybody, so she couldn't figure what was in it for either of them. The scruffy driver of the car looked more Jane's type. He was too old for high school—early twenties, probably—but there was nothing wrong with older men. He could be good-looking, too, if he made a bit more of an effort. You could say the same about Jane. Maybe they'd been on a date and Sonny had been the third wheel. That would be just like him.

As the three figures came up the path, Quinn could see that Sonny was limping and the driver was helping to support him. Sonny was speaking in a low voice, and she half-heard and half-guessed that he was telling the other two that he could manage. The scruffy guy was telling Sonny that it was no problem. Quinn stepped out from behind the bush to find out how bad the damage was and decided, judging from times Sonny had got into trouble before, that it was only minor. The guy supporting Sonny looked at her and said, 'Hey.'

Sonny whispered, 'Trent, this is my sister Quinn. Quinn, this is Jane's brother Trent. What are you doing?'

Quinn whispered back, 'What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm coming home as usual. What are you doing?'

'Not a lot', Sonny went on. 'Jane, Trent, thanks for bringing me home, but I really can manage from here.'

From above, they were interrupted by the voice of Quinn and Sonny's father. 'What's going on down there?'

'Sonny's friends brought him home, Dad', Quinn called back. 'I'm just finding out how he is.'

'Can we talk about this inside?' said Sonny. 'Or do we have to make an exhibition for the whole street?'

Once everybody was inside the house, Sonny and Jane introduced Trent to the Morgendorffer parents, who were sizing up Sonny's appearance.

'Have you been in another fight, Sonny?'

'Sonny didn't do anything, Mrs Morgendorffer', Jane said. 'Some guys didn't like something he said and started pushing him around.'

'It's nice of you to stand up for him, Jane, but Sonny has to learn to be more careful about the way he talks to people.'

Trent said, 'Actually, Mrs Morgendorffer, I've heard about these guys. They're always picking on people. I think it's their way of showing off to each other, and to their girlfriends. They think it's impressive.'

'So you see, Mom', said Sonny, 'if you want to take us back to Family Court, I'll have two witnesses this time.' He paused for a moment. 'Or Quinn and I could just both throw ourselves on the mercy of the court, trusting in your wisdom, compassion, and keen sense of fair play.'

There was another moment's silence. Quinn saw Jane looking at Sonny, mouthing 'Family Court?' and raising a puzzled eyebrow, and Sonny giving a slight shake of his head in reply. Then their parents thanked Trent and Jane for bringing Sonny home and said that it was time for everybody to get to bed.

'So, "Family Court"?'

Sonny scratched behind his ear before answering Jane.

'This is going back a while, you understand. Although I don't think anybody in my family will ever forget it.' Sonny paused again for a moment. 'It was an occasion when I didn't actually get beaten up. You may remember I told you that there are a lot of other ways to bully somebody, although that probably wasn't anything you didn't already know. With younger kids, bullies can use just the threat of force, or even the implied threat of force, to hinder the victim from getting home on time. The ideal victim—that is, ideal from the bullies' point of view—will get distressed. "I have to go home! I'll get in trouble!" Then the bullies can make things worse and worse with the bare minimum of effort.'

'I'm guessing you weren't the ideal victim from their point of view', said Jane.

A corner of Sonny's mouth lifted. 'No. But somewhat less unsophisticated bullies can still get their kicks from predicting trouble. "You're really going to catch it when you get home so late. Where are you going to tell your parents you've been? I bet they ground you forever!" Even a total deadpan doesn't completely deter some people.'

Jane nodded. She could tell this wasn't hypothetical.

Sonny continued. 'So that was the situation I was in. My parents wanted to know where I'd been and I didn't have anything I was prepared to tell them. And just like last night, Quinn got home the same time I did, although in her case it was completely obvious that she must have been out with a boy, even at that age. With both of us out late at the same time, the parental reaction wasn't just doubled, it was squared.'

'How much had you broken your curfew by?'

Sonny made a pointing gesture in acknowledgement. 'That was actually my first question. As far as I knew, until then they hadn't actually established a curfew for us—in my case I think they tacitly acknowledged that my life was intrinsically too dull for there to be any point in imposing artificial restrictions on it, and in Quinn's case they may have mistakenly supposed she was still too young for the issue to arise. But my mother said we should have known we were out too late without having a specific time stipulated for us, and that was her basis for laying down rules for us, which is when the lawyer in her came out, also squared.'

'So, "Family Court"?'

'I think she had 613 commandments worked out for us, including enforcement procedures. Actually, she said that she and Dad had worked them out together, but it was obvious that he didn't even know what they were. Then as soon as they caught us breaking one of them—I say us, but actually it was Quinn, who was too insouciant to avoid breaking curfew and too careless to cover it up properly—anyway, Mom had to "prosecute" both of us, which meant that Dad had to be the judge. The only interesting thing about the whole rigmarole was how both Quinn and I, despite our otherwise totally different attitudes, couldn't take any of it seriously. Anyway, no point in boring you with all that, the end of it was that we both threw ourselves on the mercy of the court and got grounded for a month. I think it was a month. I mean, I think it was supposed to be a month.' Sonny paused.

'Time off for good behaviour?' Jane suggested.

'Good behaviour? What a cruel thing to say. No, the problem was that the Big House can be an uncongenial place for the warders as well as for the inmates. Mom and Dad ended up having to ground themselves in order to make sure that we stayed grounded. There was a lot of time spent with the whole family hanging around the house. We played a lot of board games—actually that was almost a kind of fun, in a way. I nearly sort of miss it. Except that I'm opposed to fun, of course. But my parents suffered a lot more than I did. Dad would have rescinded the grounding in exchange for favours at Monopoly if Mom hadn't stopped him. And Quinn kept tying up the phone, which made Mom fretful about the emergency work crisis calls she was missing. And then I started teaching myself to play the harmonica.'

'The harmonica?' said Jane. 'I thought you told me you gave up music in third grade?'

'Well, my parents' dislike for the harmonica more than outweighed mine, which meant I temporarily stopped disliking it, but it was also part of a plan. I taped myself playing, and I was going to leave the tape running in my room while I got out through the window, so they wouldn't know I was gone. But then my Mom rang up to tell me to tell my Dad that she'd be home late, and my Dad rang up to tell me to tell my Mom that he'd be home late. So I just walked out the front door. I didn't get the payoff for the trouble I'd invested in making the harmonica tape, but I still have it, and I could find a use for it some day.'

'And your parents never found out?'

'They found out I'd broken prison. They were even on the verge of instituting fresh "Family Court" proceedings. But Mom and Dad's parenting has always come in these short intense bursts. Then they run out of steam. Mom has to deal with a fresh crisis at work, and Dad lapses back into obliviousness, and the latest fad brainwave gets forgotten. I knew we'd reached the stage where Mom would be unconsciously itching for an excuse to drop the whole thing, so I gave her one. When you're dealing with offenders who are not yet hardened criminals, sometimes a degree of leniency is the best way to avoid having them end up that way.'

Jane interrupted. 'Is that the line you spun for your mother, or is it a description of how you were treating her?'

Sonny paused for a moment. 'Read it how you like, I guess. Anyway, we agreed on probation. I had to call in to let them know if I was going to be out after seven. And once my parents had cut a deal with me, they didn't have the energy left to resist extending it to Quinn. And then, or so I surmise, they kept thinking about the harmonica, and the board games, and Quinn's phone calls to psychic hotlines, and they tacitly let the whole parole deal lapse, and things slid back to the way they were before, and everybody was happy. At least, as happy as basic temperaments permit.'

Jane nodded. 'And that brings us up to last night?'

'My Mom has sense when she gives herself time to use it. Even my Dad has a bit. After the first flush wore off they knew as well as I did how ridiculous the whole "Family Court" ballyhoo was. I mentioned the idea of you and Trent as witnesses just to help remind them.'

'And Quinn escaped too in the confusion?'

Sonny shrugged. 'You can't get perfect results every time.'