Two Months Later...

John searched through the box of colored pencils on the table. He found the shade of brown he was looking for. It was dark, almost black. He was putting the finishing touches on his project. They were drawing portraits of family members. John had decided to draw his brother and give it to him as a present. Bobby had been out of school for a month and a half now, for chemotherapy. John wanted to do something to cheer him up. All he had left to draw was Bobby's hair.

He lowered the pencil to the paper, when it was suddenly snatched away. John looked up to see Caleb standing over him, holding his stolen pencil and grinning a malicious grin.

"Give me my pencil back," John said.

"Why?" Caleb asked.

"I'm drawing Bobby. Give it back," John said more tersely, reaching for the pencil.

"You don't need to give him any hair. He's a bald freak," Caleb said, laughing. There were several other students watching by now, and they were laughing, too.

John bit his lip in an attempt to hold back his tears. But he couldn't help it when he started crying.

Caleb snickered, "The Carters are both freaks! John's a crybaby, and Bobby's bald!"

The anger and hatred welling up inside of John could no longer be contained. He leaped out of his seat and tackled Caleb to the floor. All the children gasped in surprise and edged away from the brawling boys. John was sitting on top of Caleb, shouting, "Take it back!"

Caleb shouted, "Get off me!" But John refused to budge until Caleb apologized. Caleb drew his right fist back, and with all his might, punched John in the face. John flew off Caleb and smashed his head on the ground. It took him a moment to regain his equilibrium. He sat up slowly, and felt a trickle of warm liquid running down his face. He reached up and tried to stop his bloody nose, while Caleb sat across from him on the floor, glaring at him.

The art teacher had finally made her way through the crowd of children to the two brawling boys. "John and Caleb!" she said, angrily. She hauled them to their feet. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" Neither of the boys responded, they only stared at each other. "Well I'm sure the principle can sort this out," the art teacher fumed. She noticed John's bleeding nose. "We'll have to get you to the nurse, first," she said, sighing. "Come on," she said, leading the two boys out of the room. She dropped John off at the health room with instructions to send him right to the office once his nosebleed stopped. Then she walked Caleb down to the office.



John stood in the entryway of the healthroom, with his hand pinching his nose. The school nurse, a young lady with curly blonde hair, looked up and saw him. She smiled sympathetically. "You have a nosebleed, son?" she asked, her voice sweet and welcoming. John nodded. "What's your name?" she asked.

"John Carter," he said quietly.

"Well John, we'd better get your nose to stop bleeding. And you have a pretty big bruise on your face, too," the nurse said. "Come here and sit down." She motioned him over to a padded couch. "My name is Linette," she said, as John took a seat. Linette handed John a Kleenex. "Here, hold this over your nose. And tilt your head back. There," she smiled. She reached into the freezer, and pulled out an icepac, which she handed to John. "Here, put this on your cheek, or it'll get swollen," she instructed him. John complied.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome," Linette said with a smile. She paused for a moment. "How'd you get that bloody nose, anyway?" she asked.

John looked at his shoes. "A boy punched me," he answered.

"He punched you?" she said. "Why did he do that?"

"Because I jumped on him," he said.

"That wasn't a very nice thing to do," Linette said.

"I know," John said.

"Then why'd you do it?" she asked.

John swallowed. "He made fun of my brother. He has cancer, and the medicine makes his hair fall out. He said my brother was a bald freak, and that I was a crybaby," he said, his eyes starting to tear up.

Linette's brow furrowed in sympathy. Obviously this child needed to talk to someone about his brother, before he ended up causing more physical or emotional damage to himself or anyone else. She felt sorry for him. "Have you talked to your parents about people making fun of your brother?" Linette asked.

John shook his head. "My dad has been in London talking to special doctors. I haven't seen him in a while. And my mom's too busy taking care of my brother," he said.

"Who takes care of you, then?" she asked.

"Elliot, our butler. And my sister- she's 14. And Gamma comes over some. And there are doctors there who take care of Bobby who sometimes bring me lunch," John said.

Linette didn't know what to say. She understood that John's brother needed a lot of attention, but it seemed like he was being neglected. She just sat there for a minute. John pulled the Kleenex away from his nose, and discovered that it had stopped bleeding. "Well, it looks like your nose stopped bleeding," she said. "But you'll want to keep that icepac on your face for a while."

John looked up at her with sad, puppy dog eyes. "Do I have to go talk to the principal now?" he asked.

"Yeah," Linette said slowly. "I'm sorry, but anyone who gets in a fight has to go to the office." John's chin dropped to his neck and he looked and the floor, slowly nodding. "Tell you what," Linette said. "How about I walk you down there?"

John looked up at her. She was nice, and he was really afraid of going to see the principle. Especially alone. He nodded. "Okay," he said.

Linette smiled. "Okay," she said. She stood up, and offered her hand to him. She helped him off the couch. They walked down the hall in silence. She felt very sorry for John Carter. He seemed like a good kid. She couldn't just let him go up to the office alone. Besides, someone needed to talk to the principal and the councilor about what was going on at the Carter home.



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John spent the next hour in the office. He told his side of the story, then Linette went in to talk to the principle. John wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but Linette yelled so loudly that he heard her say, "His parents haven't even tried to help him! That's the reason he got in that fight!"

The principal's stern voice replied, "We are talking about the Carter family, here! You expect me to tell our number one benefactor that they don't know how to raise their son?"

When Linette came out, she looked mad. John looked up at her. "Are you mad at me?" he asked.

"No, I'm not mad at you," she said. She sighed. How was she supposed to explain to John that, because his parents were wealthy contributors to the school, it wasn't her 'place' to tell them John needed more attention?

John asked, "Is he going to call my mom?"

"I'm afraid so. You're going to have to go home, but you can come back tomorrow," Linette said.

The secretary gave Linette an odd look. "Is there a reason you're not in the healthroom?" she asked snobbishly.

"I brought this boy down here, and I wanted to speak to the principal," Linette defended.

The secretary raised her eyebrows, "Well, it looks like he's through speaking with you."

Linette was fuming inside, but she contained herself. She smiled down at John. "Good-bye, John," she said. She turned and reluctantly walked off down the hallway, all the time thinking to herself how beaurocratic this school could be.



It was another half an hour before anyone came to pick up John. A black jaguar pulled into the school's drive, and John immediately recognized it as his own. He got in, and was met with Elliot's stare in the rearview mirror. Elliot didn't say anything, but his eyes displayed sympathy.

When they arrived at the Carter Mansion, John sulked up the steps and reluctantly opened the door. He half expected his mother to be there, yelling at him, but the front hall was empty. He made his way quietly up the stairs. As he passed Bobby's room, he could hear sobbing coming from inside. He stopped at the door, and stood silently, looking in through the slight opening. Bobby was lying in his bed asleep, where he had been mostly confined for the past months. Eleanor Carter was sitting by his bed, with tears streaming down her face. The doctor standing beside her spoke in a calm, soft tone.

"I'm very sorry Mrs. Carter, there's just nothing left to do," the doctor whispered.

Eleanor looked up at the physician and with her face reddening from tears and anger, she said, "I will not give up! Bobby is only 12 years old! He has a whole life due to him, a family business to inherit, a name to uphold!" Eleanor was shouting by now, not caring who heard her.

The doctor tried to reason with her, "Mrs. Carter, if there were anything I could do-"

"No! No excuses! I will not hear another word from you. You are fired, Dr. Smithson. I am not going to pay someone who will not afford my son the best care possible. He will get better," Eleanor yelled.

Dr. Smithson said nothing, seeing there was no reasoning with the woman. He quietly gathered up his things, and headed toward the door. He paused, and turned toward Eleanor. "I honestly hope you are right," he said quietly, then opened the door and walked out. He practically ran over John who was still standing outside the doorway. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said. The boy just nodded, but his eyes remained fixed on his brother's bed and his mother sitting beside it. Dr. Smithson gave John an analytical glance. He saw so much passion and caring in the child. He only hoped that spirit wouldn't dwindle. Especially considering the loss Dr. Smithson feared the family would soon be feeling. "Take care of yourself," he said, and with that he walked off down the stairs and out the door, and out of the Carter family like so many others who failed to stand up to its outrageous demands and strict codes.



Bobby had been awakened by his mother's shouting, and she was now stroking his head with her hand. "Shhhh," she whispered softly, not allowing him to speak. "It's all right Bobby. It's going to be all right. We'll find someone to make you better. I promise," she kissed him on the forehead, then stood and walked out of the room. John managed to sneak off back to his room before she entered the hallway. He was dreading having to confront her. In his room, he noticed through the window that a car was approaching. He squinted, trying to make out the distant vehicle. A sudden sharp pain in his right shoulder blade interrupted him. He turned around to see Bobby, who proceeded to take another swing at his younger brother. John had grown accustom to such impromptu fits, and skillfully ducked out of the way.

Bobby's face was contorted with anger. "I'm not a baby!" he yelled, slumping to the floor in a sobbing heap. "I can... take...care..of ...my..self!" he was now hyperventilating.

John was concerned for his brother. "I'll go get mom," he said, turning.

"No!" Bobby shouted. He took a few deep breaths and said, "I'm fine. I don't need her to help me." Bobby wiped his tears with the back of one pale hand.

John offered Bobby a hand to help him up. "Here," he said.

"I said I don't need any help!" Bobby shouted out, enraged. He tried to defiantly stand up on his own. But the chemotherapy had made him simply too weak to carry out the task. He collapsed to the floor, and this time John did go for help.

He bolted down the steps, and stopped short when he saw his father and sister in the doorway. Jack Carter gave his son a disapproving look that showed he had found out about John's fight. Why did he have to get home today? Nell looked at her brother in sympathy, but wisely, decided not to say anything and quickly slipped away.

John quickly said, "Bobby needs help!" Jack's anger momentarily subsided, and he ran up the stairs to John's room, where Bobby was lying on the floor. Ignoring Bobby's weak protests, Jack scooped his son up and set him down on John's bed.

"John, go tell your mother to call 911," Jack said curtly, and John rushed out of the room without a word.



The ambulance was there in 10 minutes, and loaded Bobby up. Elenore was a nervous wreck as she climbed into it with her son. There was no room for John or Nell, so Jack had called Gamma to come over and get them. The ambulance sped away, sirens blaring, leaving the two remaining Carter children on the front steps.

John looked up at his sister, who was staring at the ambulance as it disappeared down the road. "Nell," he said in a soft voice, "what's going to happen to Bobby?"

Nell looked at her youngest brother in distress. She couldn't tell him that Bobby would be all right anymore, he had figured out that it was not so. She just shook her head. "I don't know Scrub," she said. After a moment's pause she added, "Let's go inside and have something to eat while we wait for Gamma." John agreed and the two went in to attempt at passing the seemingly infinite time.

It was not long before Gamma arrived. "I called the hospital before I left," she said. "They said that Bobby is fine right now, he's just going to have to stay there for a little while until he's better."

"When will mom and dad be home?" Nell asked.

"Your mother is staying at the hospital, but your father should be home any time now," she said.

As if on cue, the front door opened, and Jack Carter walked in. He looked exhausted. He cleared his throat, then said, "Bobby's going to be in the hospital for a little while longer. You can go visit him tomorrow after school." He walked into the room and took a seat on the couch across from Gamma and the kids.

"Is it all right if I stay here tonight, Jack?" Gamma asked her son.

"Yes, yes of course," Jack said.

"All right then. I'm going to call your father. He's in Paris on business and, well you know how those things are," Gamma said. "I think he should be able to get home in a day or two."

Jack forced a smile. "Yes, that would be nice," he said. Gamma nodded, and headed off toward the kitchen where the nearest phone was.

Nel noted the stare her father was giving her brother. "Um, I have some homework to go do," she said softly. She stood up and walked out of the room, leaving Jack Carter with his youngest son.

There was a long silence. Jack finally said, "I'm ashamed of you, John. I never thought you would resort to fighting."

"I'm sorry, sir," John replied, all the while looking at the floor.

"It doesn't matter what the reason is, there is no good reason to fight. Do you understand me?" Jack said sternly.

"Yessir," John said quietly. He was expecting to get belted next, and he gulped.

But Jack Carter was too exhausted, mentally and physically, right now to follow the normal strict punishment. "I want you to go to your room right now, with no dinner, and not to come out until you go to school tomorrow. Is that clear?"

John looked up, and tried to contain his relief. "Yessir," he said. Without another word, he headed for his room, his pace slightly quicken, so as not to give his father any time to change his mind. He didn't see, however, Jack slumping into a chair and resting his elbow on his knee, covering his face with his hand, trying to keep himself from crying.

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