Your Father's Son
By morning recess, Jack was feeling much more relaxed. He and Martha and two other classmates were standing near the playground fence talking, when they heard loud crying. Turning toward the sound, they saw Bradley towering over a small girl on the other side of the playground. The child was crying, and it was obvious that Bradley was being mean to her in some fashion. Jack never hesitated. He took off across the playground. As he approached, he realized that the little girl had Down Syndrome. She was probably only in the second or third grade, and she was crying loudly. The children around her didn't know what to do, obviously intimidated by the big fifth grader. "Hey!" yelled Jack. "Leave her alone! You're scaring her!"
Bradley turned to Jack and snarled, "Mind your own business, newbie. I can say whatever I want to the little monkey." Turning back to the girl, he chanted, "Amber the ape, Amber the ape..."
"Stop it!" said Jack. "You're being mean!"
Bradley turned again, his fist flying toward Jack's face. Jack ducked under it and plowed into Bradley, knocking him to the ground. Within moments, a crowd had gathered. Mr. Anderson and another teacher ran over. It took them a minute or so to actually separate the boys. Bradley was in a frenzy of anger, and so was Jack, though his anger was justifiable and righteous. Shortly, both boys were in the nurse's office. Once she had determined that there were no life-threatening injuries, the boys were escorted to the principal.
Kelly and Stella had been trying to fill the morning with errands and chores, keeping themselves occupied as best they could. Of course, no matter how they tried, the conversation kept turning to Jack. At a little after ten, as they were straightening the kitchen, Kelly's phone rang. Looking at the number, he raised his brows. "Already?"
"What?" asked Stella.
Kelly gestured at her to wait a second, and then answered the phone. "Kelly Severide." As he listened to whoever was on the other end, his brow furrowed. "You're kidding. That doesn't really sound like him." A pause, then a sigh. "Of course. We'll be right there."
"What?" Stella repeated as soon as Kelly ended the call.
"Fight."
"A fight? Jack? He's only been there, like, two hours."
"I know. It may be a world record for how fast a kid can get into trouble at school. But it happened. Let's go."
When they entered the school office, there sat Jack and another boy, both looking a good bit the worse for wear. Jack had a swollen lip, the beginnings of a black eye, and a long scrape showing through a massive tear in the leg of his khakis. He was holding an ice pack. "Oh, my God," gasped Stella, moving toward him. Kelly pulled her back, realizing that Jack was on the edge of tears. He knew that any attention from them would probably push him over, and he definitely wouldn't want to cry in front of the other boy.
The other boy, who Kelly and Stella noted had about three inches and a good twenty-five pounds on their little guy, was also sporting a black eye, as well as a bloody nose. A bruise bloomed on his forehead, and one sleeve of his polo was torn almost entirely loose at the shoulder. Kelly almost grinned, but stopped himself in time. Looked like Jack could handle himself, at least.
They were ushered into the principal's office, where they were greeted by Mr. Anderson and the principal, Mrs. Rush. After handshakes all around, Mrs. Rush invited them to have a seat. "Well," she said pleasantly, "as you can see, we have a bit of a situation."
"Looks that way," said Kelly. "What happened?"
"According to witnesses," said Mrs. Rush, "Bradley was bullying one of the younger children. Jack sailed in in her defense. Bradley threw the first punch, although apparently that one missed. As you could see, a few of the others didn't. Then again, it looks as if Jack held his own just fine on that score."
"So we saw," responded Stella. "So what happens now?"
"Well, Jack was clearly justified, and he also was defending himself. So there's that. Unfortunately, the school has a policy that's pretty cut and dried. Fighting for any reason is an automatic five-day suspension."
"Seems a little unfair under the circumstances," Kelly commented.
"Agreed," said Mrs. Rush. "And if I could make an exception, I would. But I can't. So here's the deal: Jack does the five-day suspension, but he will be allowed to make up all work with full credit. That much I can do. Secondly, since this incident occurred before 11:00 AM, I can count today as part of the five, which means that Jack will be back in his desk next Tuesday, since next Monday is Labor Day. That's pretty much all I can do. I would encourage you to talk to Jack about letting the adults handle things like this. I know he's used to fending for himself, so I get it. In the end, he did pretty much the right thing. If he were my son, I would be very proud. I might even take him for pizza and ice cream once he gets cleaned up." Mrs. Rush smiled. "I think Jack is going to be quite an asset to Dunbar. You're doing a fine job."
"Thank you," said Stella. "We're trying. Can I ask about the other boy?"
"Well, confidentiality won't allow me to say much. Suffice to say that I don't think Bradley will be an issue for Jack again—or for any of us." She asked Mr. Anderson if he had anything to add, and he said only that he thought Jack was a great kid and looked forward to his return. With that, the meeting ended, and Stella and Kelly left the office to collect their son.
Jack said nothing until they were in the car on the way home. After a couple of minutes, he said, "Dad?"
"Yeah, bud."
"Are you going to spank me?"
"What? No! Why would you ask that?"
"Well, you only spank me for really big stuff. Getting suspended from school on the first day is pretty big."
Kelly shook his head. "I guess it is, but this is sort of an exceptional situation. I mean, you were trying to do the right thing. Do you think you might do it differently next time? If there is a next time, I mean."
"Well, I probably should have just told Mr. Anderson and let him handle it. But that little girl—Amber—she's in the second grade, and she has an intellectual disability. He was calling her an ape and making her cry." They could hear the outrage in his voice. "It made me so mad. So I guess what you want me to say is that the next time I'll let the grownups handle it, but I'm not sure I will. I mean, I'll try, but...Bradley's an animal. He needs to have somebody beat the crap out of him. And the adults can't do that without getting arrested. So...I don't really know. But I will try, I promise."
Stella laughed. "You are your father's son, and no doubt about it," she told him.
Kelly himself had to smile at that. It really was true, he supposed. He would have done much the same at Jack's age, and even now, given certain circumstances, it was possible that he would take things into his own hands rather than leave it up to the authorities.
When they arrived home, Stella made Jack remove his shirt so she could check for any other injuries. He had a couple of bruises, but nothing serious. After he showered, she applied antibiotic ointment to the scrape on his leg. He dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, and Kelly ordered a pizza. Stella made a quick trip out to buy ice cream, and they enjoyed the afternoon together. Jack couldn't believe that he wasn't in huge trouble, but he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth by making a thing of it. So he enjoyed his pizza and ice cream and kept his mouth shut.
Tuesday was a shift day, and Jack, computer and schoolbooks in tow, accompanied his parents to the firehouse. Second shift was surprised to see him, but once the situation was explained, he got a lot of high fives and pats on the back. Herrmann said it best: "Sometimes you gotta do the right thing, no matter what the consequences." Jack tended to agree.
Mr. Anderson had emailed a list of assignments for the week, and Jack had completed the entire week's work by about two in the afternoon. After that, he was free to wander around the firehouse, provided that he abided by the usual rules. He helped to wash Engine 51 and helped Tony reorganize the tools in the squad. Tony wasn't much of a talker in general, but he was always willing to answer Jack's questions. Tony had no children, but he thought to himself that if he did have a son, he wouldn't mind having one much like Jack.
It was a fairly quiet shift, with a few calls for small fires, minor rescues, and so forth. Actually far more typical than the big stuff. A little while after dinner was finished, a call came for everybody—truck, engine, squad, and ambo. Jack knew this was probably a big one. He still got a little nervous when one or both of his parents were out on a call, but he managed to distract himself by watching television and reading. By ten o'clock, his eyes were growing heavy, so he went to Kelly's quarters and curled up in the bunk. He never slept soundly when his parents were out, but he fell into a light doze.
Some time later, he was shaken awake by Matt Casey. "Jack?" he said quietly. "Come on, buddy. I need to take you to Med."
Jack felt dread in the pit of his stomach. "What happened?"
"It's your dad," said Uncle Matt. "I don't think it's too serious, but they're admitting him at least overnight, so your mom asked me to come get you."
"How did it happen?" asked Jack.
"He took a fall from a third-story window. Landed in some bushes. I know he has a few cracked ribs and a pretty serious concussion, at least. They're doing some tests to make sure it's nothing more, but the last I heard he was conscious and talking and demanding to leave, so I'm thinking he's going to be okay."
Jack smiled, even though he was near tears. "That sounds like my dad."
Matt laughed and ruffled the boy's curls. "Yeah, it does. Come on, get your stuff."
When they arrived at Med, the 51 second shift was in the waiting area. Stella was nowhere to be seen, so Jack assumed she was with his dad. Matt said he would find out what was happening, and walked away. In his absence, Jack made a beeline for Tony. This compact, quiet man had become something of a touchstone for the boy. Tony didn't understand half of what Jack said, but he listened, nonetheless. Jack appreciated the fact that Tony didn't talk much and was comfortable with silence. Sometimes Jack just needed to be quiet. Nothing was wrong, he just got tired of talking or needed to think. Those were times when he knew he could go hang out with Tony and wouldn't be pestered with questions about how he was or if he was alright or if something was bothering him. He liked that.
So now, when he needed to think and just be quiet, he went and sat next to Tony. Tony put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close, but said nothing. Jack drew calm and comfort from Tony's presence, and Tony was glad to be able to offer silent support. They simply sat like that, in companionable silence, waiting for word. The others respected their moment and left them alone.
Within about ten minutes, Stella emerged into the waiting area. Jack ran to her and she opened her arms. "Dad's going to be okay, honey," she said. "He has three cracked ribs and a pretty bad concussion, so they're keeping him overnight, even though he doesn't want to stay. He should be able to come home first thing in the morning."
"Are you spending the night here?"
"No. I wanted to, but he doesn't want me to, so I'm gonna take you home in a little while. I thought you might want to see him first." Jack nodded vigorously. "They'll have him settled in a room in a little while, and then you can go back and visit for a few minutes. How does that sound?" Jack nodded again. He felt tears of relief starting behind his eyes, and he tried to hold them back. His mother ruined that, though, when she pulled him close and stroked the back of his head. "It's okay, baby," she murmured. "Everything's going to be just fine."
Jack let go and cried for a minute, then, gathering himself, he returned to his seat next to Tony while Stella talked to the other members of second shift. Eventually, she came and sat on the other side of Jack. Comforted by the presence of his mother and his strong, quiet friend, Jack dozed off sitting in the chair. When Stella woke him to go see his dad, it was nearly 2:00 AM. He shook himself awake and walked with her to the elevator. When they got to Kelly's room, Kelly was groggy, but awake. There was a small bandage above his right eyebrow, and he was sporting a few scrapes on his face from his encounter with the bushes.
"You okay, Dad?" Jack choked out.
"Yeah, bud. I'm fine, but the doctors say I don't feel good, and your mom here seems to trust them more than she trusts me. But I'm okay, really. I promise. You go home and get some rest, and I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay, Dad. I love you."
"Love you too, bud." With that, Kelly closed his eyes. With a final kiss from his son and then his wife, he went off to dreamland.