Enough is Enough
The next morning, Jack slept until nearly 9:00. Kelly and Stella just let him rest, knowing that he was still recovering from a major physical trauma. When he did wake up, he seemed well-rested and a bit more upbeat than the previous day. He ate a large breakfast, which Kelly and Stella encouraged. Stella worried that he was still so thin, whereas Kelly felt that he would gain given enough time. After all, although hospital food was undoubtedly an improvement over his previous diet, it was hardly the sort of fare that encouraged a hearty appetite. Of course, Jack didn't really care what things tasted like just yet. To him, food was food. If it filled his belly without making him sick because it was spoiled, he was fine with it. He really had no idea that there was good food and not-so-good food. It was all one to him.
Stella called Cindy to ask about what time they should be there. Although folks would probably begin to gather at about noon, Cindy said that they probably would not eat until around 2:00, as Herrmann was slow cooking brisket for everyone. February weather was no deterrent for firefighters who desired brisket. Stella explained that they would probably wait a little later than the others to come. Cindy, of course, completely understood. Like the rest of the second shift family, she already loved this little boy she hadn't met. She assured Stella that everyone else would understand too, and that they would be welcomed whenever they showed up. That settled, Stella and Kelly went about doing a few things around the apartment while Jackson went to his room to read.
At a little before noon, Jackson emerged with fire in his eye. "Where's my knife?" he demanded loudly.
Kelly, startled, said, "What?"
"My KNIFE!" the boy shouted. "Where the hell is it? Did you take it? It's mine! Give it back!"
Stella was too stunned to respond. Kelly said, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, little man. Hold on. First of all, watch your language. Secondly, I do have your knife. It's put away in my room. You don't need to be carrying a knife, and switchblades are illegal, anyway. I'm surprised the police didn't confiscate it to begin with. No knife, bud. Sorry." Kelly's voice was quiet and calm, but very firm.
"That's not fair! It's mine! You can't just take it like that! Give it back!"
"You aren't hearing me, son. It's illegal. You can't have it. Period. The only reason I have it is because I kind of forgot about it. I need to turn it over to the police. There's not really a choice here."
Now more desperate than angry, Jackson said, "Please. I need it. Please give it back."
"No."
"I have to have it, though! You don't understand. I need it!"
"No, you don't. Buddy, you don't have to protect yourself or defend yourself or your things any more. You have us now. We're going to look out for you. You're safe, remember? You don't need the knife and you can't have it. That's it."
Shouting again, Jackson said, "It's mine!"
Kelly was on the edge of losing his patience. "This isn't a debate, Jackson. You can't have it. I've explained why, and that's all there is to it. Now drop it, please."
Stella, seeing that Kelly was struggling to hold his temper and keep his voice even, stepped in.
"Honey, your dad's right. You can't-"
Jackson turned on her furiously. "Shut up, you bitch! Nobody asked you!"
Kelly was directly in front of his son in one stride. "Hey!" he said sharply. "Enough is enough! You will not speak to Stella that way, and I mean it. I know this is all new to you, and you're struggling, but I am drawing a line. You will respect her, period. Now apologize."
Jack, realizing he had gone too far, stared sullenly at the floor.
"Jackson. Now."
After a long glare at his father, which Kelly returned with a calm, steady look of his own, Jackson folded his arms and muttered, "Sorry," while staring at his feet. Kelly thought about insisting that he look at Stella, but decided this wasn't the time.
"It's alright, Jackson," said Stella. "I should have stayed out of it, I guess."
"No," said Kelly. "You shouldn't have. You have a say in all of this, too. And in any case, it doesn't excuse disrespect." To Jack, he said, "And you, young man, need to go back to your room and stay there until you feel a little better about life. This whole conversation is ended. Do you understand?"
"Yeah," whispered Jack.
Kelly bent down and lifted Jack's chin to meet his eyes. "I love you. So does Stella. That does not change, ever. But this kind of behavior is a non-starter. Okay?"
Jackson nodded.
"Go on, then. See you in a little while."
The youngster turned and trudged in the direction of his room.
Kelly blew out a breath and looked at Stella. "Didn't see that coming. Thanks for stepping in, babe. I was about to blow a gasket, and I really do not want to swat a kid who's still recovering from major surgery."
"Well, I feel like I just made it worse."
"Not really. I probably should have warned you. Dr. Charles told me that you might experience what he called 'overt hostility' from my little man."
"Our little man," she corrected. "And who could blame him? It's not as if he's had a lot of positive experiences with adult females."
"He still can't talk to you like that, though. I absolutely won't allow it. I know he's still physically recovering, but if it happens again, he might end up with a sore backside. Like I said, that's where I draw the line."
"And I appreciate that, but who knows what's been done to the kid in the past? I'm not so sure whacking him is a great idea under any circumstances."
"Possibly not, and it wouldn't be my first choice, but I won't rule it out as a last resort."
"Dr. Charles would not be pleased."
"Maybe not. But Dr. Charles isn't going to be raising the kid. We are. And even he said that our situation is so unique he wouldn't really know what to tell us about discipline." Kelly heaved a sigh. "Crisis averted for now, anyway. Let's get back to these boring chores so we can get to the Herrmanns' in time for some brisket. I'm going to be starving by two o'clock."