Tuesday, December 21
Rockport High School
Jonny dropped his books onto the table and collapsed into the molded plastic chair in the school cafeteria with a sigh. Jessie smiled at him sympathetically and said,
"Rough?"
Jonny shook his head. "Why does that man hate us?" he asked plaintively. "What have we ever done to him?"
Matt Evans looked at him quizzically. "Where have you been?"
"Matteson's Advanced Calculus class. We had a test today."
"Bummer," Mike Short said, with a grimace. "I had Matteson for Geometry. I swore if I lived through it, I'd never take anything from him ever again!"
Mary Oldham leaned against him slightly and laughed. As she did so, her big loop earrings and large collection of bracelets jangled softly. "I don't know. I kinda enjoyed that semester."
Mike snorted, then smiled at her. "Only because we spent so much time 'studying'."
Jonny grinned at the pair sitting across the table from him. At first glance, Mary Oldham and Mike Short looked like a really odd pair. Mike was tall and lanky. Mary was also slender, but she was extremely short . . . only about 4'1" . . . so that the top of her head didn't even reach Mike's chest. Mike was naturally fair. In it's normal state, his hair was a pale blonde, a good match for his light blue eyes. His hair rarely stayed the same color very long, however. Today, it was a brilliant shade of purple. Mary also liked to die her hair from it's normal brown color . . . at the moment, it was jet black, shoulder length, and appeared to be in a state of ordered disarray. And when she looked at you . . . Jonny could still remember the first time he met Mary . . . he felt something like a rabbit caught by a snake. Her dark brown eyes seemed to capture and hold a person suspended. She was different . . . that was all. In this rural, highly conservative area, her dark makeup, goth-style clothes, and abundant jewelry made her stand out. And because she stood out, it made her the target of gossip. He had heard rumors that Mary was a witch and part of a coven, but he shrugged that off. She wasn't a witch, at least not of the black arts kind. If she was Wiccan . . . well, so what? He had friends that were Methodist, Catholic, Jewish, Moslem, Buddist, agnostic, and probably even atheist. It made no difference to him or any of his close friends. They all liked Mary. When you got to know her, she was bright and witty, with a really sharp sense of humor. She was actually one of Jessie's very first girlfriends in Rockport. And more important than anything else, Mike was crazy about her. In Jonny's opinion, that was all that really mattered.
As he leaned back and laid his arm across the back of Jessie's chair, Jonny asked Matt, "So where's Bobby? I thought he was gonna meet us for lunch." Bobby and Matt Evans had been two of Jonny Quest's closest friends ever since he and his father moved to the Rockport area. In fact, they were the nephews of Mrs. Evans, the housekeeper that was like another part of the Quest family. The identical twins were generally inseparable and it was somewhat rare to see them apart.
"Yeah," Jessie agreed, leaning back into the curve of Jonny's arm. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen much of Bobby for several days." Something indefinable flickered across Matt's face and the fleeting expression caused Jonny to wonder uneasily if something might be up between the brothers. But before anyone could say anything, Jessie uttered a small sound of satisfaction and continued, "Oh, there's Marla. He's probably on his way." The group glanced over toward the doorway and saw a blonde girl standing there. Jessie raised her hand and waved. A smile flickered briefly on her face and she waved back, then turned and joined a group at a table in another part of the room. Jessie frowned in puzzlement.
Matt looked slightly uncomfortable and started to say something, but stopped as Mary looked across the table and asked, "So how're the wedding plans coming, Jessie?"
Jessie turned reluctantly from contemplating the other girl and replied, "Pretty good. Jonny and Hadji were helping me with stuff over the weekend. I may get this all set up yet."
As Mary laughed, Matt jumped on the offhand comment and deftly changed the subject. "Speaking of Hadji," he said, "what's this I hear about him getting married?"
Among the startled comments and questions, Jonny questioned, "Where did you hear that?"
Matt looked surprised. "From Bobby. I assumed Hadji told him. Isn't it true?"
Jessie and Jonny exchanged confused looked, and Jessie finally replied, "Well, it's true that he's unofficially betrothed, but he's keeping it pretty quiet. I didn't think he'd told anyone other than the immediate family."
"Why? Is there something wrong about it or something?" Mary asked.
Jonny hesitated for a long minute before answering. "No, not really. I think he's just got Sultan-itis."
Jessie burst of laughter, caused all of them to chuckle.
"So what's 'Sultan-itis?" Matt asked with a grin.
"It's a case of discovering that being a Sultan's not all it's cracked up to be," Jonny replied with a matching grin. "Truth is, I think Neela is pushing him to fit into the mold of a Sultan, and I'm not sure he likes it much."
"Neela's his mother back in India, right?" Mary asked with hesitation.
"In Bangalore, yeah," Jessie agreed. Then she shrugged, "He's talked to me about it a little. I guess Bangalore is pretty traditional. He says that's fine, up to a point. But now it's kinda . . . " she trailed off searching for the right word.
"They're too hidebound," Mary supplied.
Jessie laughed as the others looked confused. "Too hidebound," she agreed. Then she grinned at the other girl, "You've been reading Anne McCaffrey's Pern books, again, haven't you?" She looked around at the others and clarified, "Traditional to a fault. Yeah, that's a lot of it. But I'm pretty sure there's more to it than that. Hadji hasn't really said as much, but I think that Neela's getting tired of "sharing" him with the rest of us. She wants him to relinquish this part of his life totally and become Sultan full time."
"I think you're right, Jess," Jonny replied soberly. "And Hadji's really unhappy about it. I know that Neela's getting more and more snotty about it, too. She called to talk to Hadji the other day and I answered the phone. She was really short and almost nasty. And I heard them arguing a little bit later."
Jessie shook her head. "It's kinda weird. Hadji has always been the calm and placid one of the three of us. He's very centered . . . he always seemed to know where he was going and what he was doing. But the more he deals with the situation in Bangalore, the more that seems to be changing. When it comes to stuff in the family, he's just as he always was, but when he has to deal with Neela . . ."
"She really knows how to get under his skin, that's for sure," Jonny agreed.
"That's weird, all right," Mike agreed. "But what about his getting married? Is that real?"
Jonny nodded. "Yeah. It's real. And that seems to be his choice, not Neela's. He really seems crazy about this girl."
"I'll bet Neela had a hand in it someplace, though," Jessie commented. "You remember how upset he was when he was in Bangalore the last time?"
"Man, I'll say," Jonny agreed with a frown. "I wasn't exactly focused enough to pick up all that was going on and even I noticed it. He never really explained what was going on, either. He was more interested in talking about Kefira."
"Kefira? Is that his girlfriend's name?" Mary asked with interest. Jonny and Jessie both nodded.
Mike sat up abruptly. "Hey, I'm tired of waiting for Bobby. I'm hungry. Let's get lunch and he can just join us whenever he gets here." The others agreed and they all rose and headed for the lunch line. A few minutes later, they all settled back at the table with trays of food and drink. As they began to eat, Matt asked Jessie and Jonny,
"So have you met her yet? "
"Met who?" Jonny asked, swallowing a mouthful of pizza hastily.
"Hadji's new fiancée," Mike replied patiently.
"Not yet," Jessie replied, then grinned at her boyfriend. "Soon, though."
Jonny grinned back. "Yeah. Kefira is coming to spend a couple of weeks over the holidays. Kefira and her father got into New York on Saturday. Hadji met 'em. They were supposed to arrive here on Sunday, but the weather stranded them in New York City. They should be here by the time we get home this afternoon."
"I can hardly wait," Jessie added in anticipation.
Everyone laughed as Mary said, "Then she'll be at the party a week from tomorrow? We'll get to meet her, too?"
"Yeah," Jessie replied, "Hadji said that whatever they do otherwise, they are both going to be at the Christmas party. He's told Kefira all about it, and Hadji says she's really excited about it."
"That's cool," Matt replied.
"What I don't understand is how Bobby knew about this," Jonny commented. "I was just sure that Hadji hadn't told anyone else. What did he say about it, Matt?" Matt just looked uncomfortable and shrugged, his mouth full.
"Why all the . . . " Mike started to say, then stopped abruptly, staring across the room in stunned silence. Beside him, Mary just sat there with her mouth open in astonishment. Jessie and Jonny looked from one of them to the other, then twisted in their chairs to follow their friends' stunned gaze. What they saw left both of them speechless, as well.
Bobby Evans was standing just inside the cafeteria room door. In marked contrast to his brother, who was disheveled and dressed in a gray sweatsuit, Bobby was dressed neatly in dress pants and a bulky sweater. His hair appeared to have been recently cut. Clinging to his right arm possessively was Francesca Hamilton. Jonny could feel his senses reel as time seemed to leap the gap back to the day that it had been him standing there beside the raven-haired girl. He could almost feel the warmth of her body and smell her perfume. He turned sharply to Matt and demanded,
"What the hell is this???"
Matt hung his head and sighed. "I'm sorry Jonny . . . Jessie. I didn't know how to tell you." Matt's head came up and he looked at the two of them with a desperate expression. "I don't know what's gotten into him! He won't listen to me . . . he's just gone nuts. He's broken up with Marla . . . he's ignoring all of his friends . . . he argues with Mom and Dad constantly. He knows what she is . . . the stuff she's done . . . but he won't listen! Keeps saying that she's changed and that no one is willing to give her a chance. I don't know what to do anymore."
The group watched in grim silence as the couple crossed the lunchroom and got in the cafeteria line. Bobby was solicitous, getting Francesca a tray, helping her select food, and carrying the tray back to a table for her. The pair sat well away from the rest of them. Sudden movement at the corner of her eye, caused Jessie to look to the other side of the room. Marla Dawson had risen abruptly and was heading for the cafeteria room doorway. Her head was bowed and she looked upset as she disappeared through the open doorway. Jessie turned back to see Matt watching her as well, the concern in his face evident. Their eyes met and Matt said softly,
"She's taking this really hard. She's been Bobby's girlfriend since before they even knew what that meant. The three of us grew up together. They were such naturals . . . but now . . ." Matt gestured angrily. "Francesca's using him, but he just doesn't see it. It's like . . ." he sighed in frustration, searching for words. "I don't know how to describe it."
"You don't have to," Jonny replied grimly. "I know exactly what you mean. She wants something . . . she always does."
"Maybe she just wants to try and fit in," Mary ventured hesitantly.
"I doubt it," Jonny said, dismissing the idea. "That's not Francesca's style."
"Look," Mary countered, a bit more strongly, "I don't know what all happened between the two of you . . . or between Francesca and Jessie. You never talked about it. But I do understand what it feels like to be excluded. You've made your feelings about Francesca really clear to everyone in school . . . both you and Jessie. And there are a lot of people who won't have anything to do with Francesca simply because you detest her so thoroughly." Jonny started to protest, but Mary overrode him determinedly, warming to her subject. "Your opinion carries a lot of weight around here, Jonny Quest, whether you believe it or not. People follow the lead that you and Jessie set. Not many people will have much to do with Francesca because of your opinion of her. Bobby felt sorry for her. I know because I've heard him say so." She turned to Matt and stabbed a finger at him, saying sharply, "And so have you! No, he doesn't approve of what's she's done in the past. But everyone deserves a second chance. Bobby was willing to cut her some slack. I'll give him credit for that. It's more than you guys have done. I can see why she made a play for Bobby. He's easy going and is accepted in all the "right" circles. He was even invited to Audrey Penopscott's party at the Yacht Club last year! Dating him will get Francesca invited to a lot of functions."
The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Finally Jessie sighed and replied, "Mary, I believe in giving people a second chance, too. I'd even be willing to give Francesca one, if I thought that's really what she wants. But you forget that I know her better than you do.
"But . . ." Mary started to say, but Jessie overrode her protest.
"Remember, Mary, I've met her face to face since she returned to Rockport, and I've talked with her. Trust me when I say that she's hasn't changed." Jessie spread her hands in a vague gesture, forestalling Mary's reply. "I can't explain to you how I know that. I just do. Call it internal radar if you want. All I know is that there's more here than meets the eye."
Mary's stubborn expression said that she wasn't convinced. "You don't know that," she insisted. "Francesca has been through a lot. She never had a mother and her dad's gone now. I've heard rumors that he was a career criminal, and that she was even in jail for a while . . . and in a foreign country, too. You know, if that's all she's ever known, you can't expect her to adjust easily. So I don't see how you can be so sure that she's the way she used to be. Francesca is . . ."
"Francesca is evil," Jonny said flatly. His tone of voice and the expression on his face stopped all of them.
Mary looked at him and for the first time, doubt showed on her face. "But, Jonny, how can you be so sure?"
Jonny thought about that for a minute. Finally, he took a deep breath and said slowly, "I've been a lot of places and I've seen a lot of things in my life. And I've faced evil . . . pure, unrelenting, irrational evil. When I look into Francesca's eyes, that's what I see. It's rooted in her soul, and she can't hide it from me . . . not anymore. I've stood face to face with her, when it was just the two of us, and I've seen her with the veneer ripped away. She's greedy and cold hearted. She has no conscience and she hates." He stopped, staring at the surface of the table without really seeing it, his thoughts totally turned inward. None of them knew what memories were playing themselves out in his mind, but it was evident from the expression on his face that they weren't pleasant. Finally, he sighed deeply and raised his head to look at his friends again. "I don't know how else to describe it. I just know that it's true."
"And I've watched her with Bobby," Matt added unhappily. "She manipulates him . . . gets him to do stuff he knows he shouldn't be doing and that gets him in trouble with Dad and Mom." Matt frowned suddenly, as though thinking about it more closely. "And, you know, I think she enjoys that . . . seeing him in trouble, I mean."
"But that doesn't even make sense," Mary said helplessly. "Why would she do that? She's not about to jeopardize her relationship with Bobby, particularly if you're right and she really does want something. He's her access to people and places."
"No, Mary, you don't understand," Jessie said quietly. There was such a note of intensity in her voice that all of them stared at her. "For Francesca, it's a power game . . . power over other people. She gets high off of her ability to manipulate people and their emotions. It's why we clashed so quickly. Yes, she was trying to take Jonny away from me." Jonny tightened his arm around her waist possessively, pulling her tighter against his side. She laid her arm along his, caressing it gently. "But that was only part of the game. She also found she had the power to hurt me, too. So she goaded me . . . went for my weak spots and capitalized on them when I foundered. It was her power to hurt me that she thrived on."
Mary stared across the table at her friend. Finally she replied, "I never realized that. You mean she deliberately hurt you just because she could?"
Jessie nodded. "It's just the way she is. She tried it again at the Christmas Festival." Jessie sighed softly and shook her head. "But I've changed in the two years since I first met her . . . I'm not the person I was then. She discovered that she has no power over me any longer. So she tried a different tactic. Right after the Christmas Festival, I had some malicious jokes played on me . . . "
"What!" Jonny exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. "You never said . . ."
Jessie used her weight to shove him back into his chair. "I didn't say anything about it because I knew you would react just like this. Furthermore, I couldn't prove that Francesca had done them. I believe she did, but . . ."
"What kind of practical jokes?" Mike asked, putting his arm around his girlfriend and pulling her back against him. Jessie didn't miss the almost protective way he shifted his shoulders as he held Mary.
Jessie shrugged. "My locker was rigged one day so everything in it fell out when I opened the door. And the lid on one of the inkbottles at my workstation in the graphics lab had been loosened so that I made a mess when I went to use it. Little stuff like that. Nothing dangerous," she said somewhat forcibly, banging her shoulders against Jonny's chest and tipping him back against the seat rest to forestall his attempt to rise from his chair again. "Typical Francesca tactics. She also took snide little verbal shots whenever she could. But she learned soon enough that I wasn't susceptible to that kind of stuff, either. The last time she tried it was in gym class . . . " Jessie shook her head. "She hasn't tried anything since."
Matt looked at Jessie in trepidation. "What did you do?"
But it was Mary Oldham that answered, understanding dawning in her eyes. "I remember that day. It was at the end of class and Francesca had been ragging on you about some move you'd tried and missed on the uneven parallel bars . . . she was being really catty." Mary suddenly laughed, "Man, I have never seen anyone taken down to size so neatly in all my life. I remember you just turned to her, looked her up and down, and then made some offhanded comment about a person being able to learn grace under pressure, but that style was something that came from within. And Becca Harris said that she was sure Francesca wouldn't understand the difference, but told her not to feel bad . . . that she was sure that someday Francesca would find something she was good for. And that was just the way she worded it, too. And then you just turned and walked away like she wasn't worth your time."
Jessie chuckled, "Francesca doesn't like to be dismissed. That's her weakness. It took me a long time to learn that."
"I can believe it!" Mary agreed fervently. "Oh, man, she was furious. She'd set herself up for it, though, and she knew it. Anything she said would've ended up making her look worse than she already did."
Jessie nodded. "She also knew that suspicion would fall directly on her for any other tricks pulled on me." Suddenly, Jessie's expression turned grim. "I also had a very short, pointed discussion with her in private later that day on the subject of unexpected 'accidents'. I made myself pretty clear."
"Accidents?" Mike asked in confusion. "What do you mean, 'accidents'?"
"Yeah," Mary agreed. "Are we missing something?"
"Francesca's been known to pull some stuff that is a bit rougher than nuisance crap," Jonny replied shortly.
"Like what?" Mary asked, fascinated.
Jessie shook her head. "Doesn't matter. All that's important is that Francesca Hamilton and I understand each other. Trust me, she won't try any of that kind of stuff on me any more."
"How long ago was this? That you had that little 'chat' with her, I mean." Matt asked, thoughtfully.
Jessie looked puzzled. "I don't know . . . three weeks or so. Not much more, I don't think. It was right after the Christmas Festival. Why?"
"Because two weeks ago last Saturday, Bobby ran into Francesca over in Camden. He'd volunteered to help with the Christmas puppet show over there again this year. From what little Bobby said, he ran into her early that morning when they were just starting to set up and she hung around and helped. They ended up spending the entire day together. They worked on the puppet show, went Christmas shopping, strode around the harbor and watched the fishing boats, and he even bought her dinner. From then on, it seemed like a day didn't go by that he didn't see her. The next thing I knew, he'd had this great big blowup with Marla, he'd returned her class ring and gotten his back, and just this weekend he gave it to Francesca."
"Oh, man, does this sound familiar," Jonny said in disgust. "You've got to talk to him, Matt . . . before it's too late and he really gets hurt!"
Matt threw his hands up in the air and said, "You think I haven't tried??? Jeez, I've lost track of the times I've tried to make him see sense. All he does is get angry and storm off. The last time I tried, he told me I was only saying these things because I was jealous that he had a steady girlfriend and I didn't!"
Mike laughed derisively. "As if you couldn't have a steady girlfriend if you wanted one!"
"Yeah, Playboy Matt . . . the one no girl can nail to the floor," Jessie cracked.
Matt grinned reluctantly. "So, okay, I like to play the field. There's nothing wrong with that. The point is, I'm not jealous of Bobby having a regular girlfriend. I just couldn't believe he said it . . . or even thought it!"
Jonny shook his head slowly and gazed at the couple on the other side of the room. "No, he's not going to listen, is he? Just like I wouldn't listen. For one reason or another, she's got him snowed and there's not much we can do about it."
"Other than hang around and be there for him when he finally discovers he's been used," Matt agreed glumly.
"But you know," Jessie commented softly with a troubled look in her eyes, "the $64,000 question is, used for what?" But no one had an answer for that one.
Benton stood starting out one of the windows on the second floor of the Bangor International Airport. The winter landscape opened out before him in true panoramic fashion. Flat, snow-covered ground gave way to rolling hills broken by scattered stands of trees that reached their barren limbs to the sky as though in supplication to some long-forgotten God. It was a world washed in white. It was a beautiful sight. Near at hand, a single runway had been cleared just enough to allow planes to take off and land. In the distance, Benton could see the glaring red and blue lights landing lights, which stood out sharply against the white backdrop. Around him, crowds of people milled uneasily. Normally, the Bangor airport was relatively quiet, crowds ebbing and flowing as planes landed to deliver their latest round of skiers, hikers, cyclists, and businessmen and to pick up those who were headed home. But today was different. The place teamed with people everywhere you looked. Weather had stranded many people and they moved restlessly . . . from seats and makeshift beds on the floors to the few restaurants that were open to the harassed ticket agents.
The restlessness of the crowd fed Benton's nervousness, making him jumpy. He looked at his watch and found that only two minutes had passed since the last time he had checked the time. 9:04. Hadji's plane was late. Benton wished that this meeting were over. Some disconnected part of his mind snickered at him. He had talked easily with presidents, kings, and all kinds of dignitaries throughout the world, and not one of them had caused him to be as nervous as he found himself right now. For some reason, meeting the girl that his eldest son had decided to marry had him on the edge of being a basket case. Benton sighed and turned away from the windows as he thought again of what Myron Dawson had said to him the day before. Time stopped for no man. And whether he liked to admit it or not, his sons were grown. Both of them were starting to make their own decisions and to set their feet on paths that would draw them further and further from him. That was how it was supposed to be. He had lain awake for hours the previous night thinking about that. And after a long time, he had finally found a certain amount of peace. He knew that the next several years wouldn't be easy, but he thought he had finally begun to come to terms with it. And he also knew that it was irrational to think of it as life "taking his sons away from him." No, he knew that whatever happened and wherever life took his sons, that he would still be an important part in their lives. What he had come to understand as he laid in the dark staring sleeplessly at the ceiling was that what he was fighting against wasn't that he didn't want his sons to grow up. No, that wasn't it. It was the realization that the day was coming when they would leave . . . and he would be alone. For the first time since he had married Rachel, he would truly be on his own, answerable only for himself. Suddenly, he felt lost. It was Jonny . . . and later, Hadji . . . that had kept Benton going after Rachel had died. The knowledge that he had those two boys to care for was what gave him the strength to get up in the morning and make it through another day. In time, the grief and loss had lessened. He wasn't even sure he knew when the emptiness had been replaced by contentment, but it had happened. But over the last several months, he'd found it coming back again, and that scared him. He wasn't sure what he was going to do about it, either. All he knew for certain was that it was his problem and he could not allow it to taint his sons' happiness.
"There it is!"
Benton turned and strode back to the windows swiftly. His eyes followed the pointing fingers of several people in the crowd, and quickly spotted the small jet as it banked to line it's approach up with the snow swept runway. It wouldn't be long, now. He turned and moved away from the window quickly, heading for the escalators that would take him downstairs to the arrival gates. Amidst the throng, he waited impatiently as the plane taxied across the field and the door to the plane was opened. At last, passengers began disembarking. Hadji and his guests were among the first off the plane. For all that the Bangor airport was an international facility, it still didn't carry enough air traffic to merit such amenities as jetways. The airport maintenance crews had done the best they could, but wind and weather conspired to force the passengers to wade snow in several places, slowing their progress toward the terminal. As they struggled toward the door, Benton watched them curiously.
Hadji was the first of the three to appear in the open doorway and he paused, looking around for an instant before starting his decent to the ground. He wore a pair of black denims and a nylon ski jacket in that warm shade of blue that was his favorite color. His black hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he wore no hat. There was no sign of his turban. Something moved in the back of Benton's mind . . . an uneasy sense of warning. Ever since returning from Bangalore the last time, Benton had noted that his eldest son had suddenly developed a marked preference for western style attire. He seldom wore either his standard Indian garb or his turban, and Benton had even overhead him talking with Jonny about the possibility of getting his hair cut. Up to this point, Benton hadn't said anything, but the more he noticed it, the more he came to feel that something was up. He had expected to find his son in full Indian dress for this particular meeting. To find him wearing casual Western attire around his future father-in-law underlined that feeling of uneasiness. As a smaller figure appeared behind Hadji in the door, Benton resolved to get to the bottom of whatever was going on very soon. The smaller figure didn't even pause, descending immediately to the ground to stand behind Hadji. Kefira. There was no doubt in Benton's mind, even before he saw Hadji put an arm around her shoulders and turn so his body provided a wind break for her. She was wrapped in a long coat that reached within a few inches of the ground and she had a hood pulled up over her head so Benton couldn't get a good look at her. Both turned and looked up as the third member of their party descended the stairs. Benton looked at Kefira's father closely. The man wasn't terribly tall . . . maybe 5'10" . . . but he carried himself with an authority that spoke of strength of character that Benton automatically admired. Ignoring the biting wind, he looked around, taking in his surroundings with an obvious interest. As he reached the ground Benton saw Hadji say something to him and gesture toward the building. The older man nodded and followed the two young people with a purposeful stride. Benton took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Here we go, he thought to himself and moved toward the door to the terminal.
"Hadji!" he called, raising his hand from the back of the crowd as they trio entered the building.
Hadji's head snapped up sharply, hearing the familiar voice calling his name. Looking over the crowd he spotted his father and waved back. "There he is," he said to his two guests and led them through the throng to where Benton Quest stood waiting. "Father," Hadji said as he came up, and he gave the older man a quick hug.
"No trouble getting here?" Benton asked, returning the gesture.
"Not once we got on the plane. The airport was somewhat crowded, however."
"I'll bet it was," Benton replied with an involuntary chuckle, knowing his son's talent for understatement.
Hadji turned to the two people with him. Reaching out, he drew the older man forward, saying, "Father, I would like to present Rajeev Subramanian of Bangalore."
Benton caught the man's hand in a firm clasp and said, "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Subramanian. My son speaks very highly of you."
Rajeev bowed deeply. "I am honored, Dr. Quest. The Sultan has nothing but glowing words to say of his American father, and you bring much honor to my family by offering my daughter and myself your hospitality."
"The honor is mine, sir," Benton replied with equal formality.
"And this is Kefira, Father," Hadji said, drawing the third member of their party forward. The girl reached up and threw the hood back and Benton saw her for the first time. He had the briefest impression of a flashing smile and raven black hair before he was captured by brown, expressive eyes that seemed to hold him in thrall.
For a long moment, he just stared at her, lost in the well of those eyes. Then he stepped forward, put his arms around her and hugged her sharply. "Welcome, child," he said gruffly, abruptly caught up in a joy so fierce it astonished him. Any doubts he had about Hadji's choice were gone. He couldn't explain it . . . he just knew, as surely as his son had, that this was right. Stepping back, he smiled at her happily. "I can't tell you how glad I am to finally meet you." She smiled back at him rather shakily and it occurred to Benton that she had been as worried about this meeting as he had been.
"I thank you, sir," she said in a small voice. "It is very kind of you to offer us such hospitality."
Benton smiled at her again and shook his head slightly. "Not hospitality, Kefira. Hospitality is what you offer strangers. You and your family are much more than that. I want you to feel as welcome at the Quest Compound as you do in your own home." Benton looked over her head and smiled at Hadji. "It is my son's home, after all." He was rewarded by a look so warm and loving from the young man that it caused Benton's throat to tighten. Yes, whatever the future would bring, things would be all right.
Putting an arm around the girl's shoulders, he turned toward the far end of the terminal. "Shall we claim your luggage? I hate to rush you, but I want to get on the road to Rockport as quickly as possible. They aren't predicting anything nasty in the way of weather, but things can change rather abruptly at times. I'll be happier once we are all safely lodged at the Compound."
"Agreed," Rajeev replied comfortably, dropping into step beside Benton. "I will admit that I am looking forward to seeing your facilities, Dr. Quest. The Sul . . . er . . . Hadji . . ." Rajeev corrected himself hastily as Hadji frowned at him, "has told us a bit about them and it all sounds quite fascinating. He tells me you have a full research laboratory in a lighthouse?"
Benton laughed. "Indeed I do," he replied, "and then some. I hope you will allow me to show it to you while you are here."
"And Hadji says there are granite mines nearby!" Kefira exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "Do you think maybe we can visit those, as well? I would love to see how they deal with some of the issues we have difficulty with. From what I've read, some of the stone from those mines are similar to that in our far northern mine and it poses some particularly difficult problems with . . ."
"Kefira!" her father admonished her sharply.
"Oh!" she said, her hand going to her mouth as if to stem the flow of words. The excitement faded from her face as she realized that perhaps she was being rude.
Benton looked at Hadji who grinned back, unabashed. "She is always like this . . . a one-track mind."
"I never expected anything less," Benton replied. He looked at the girl solemnly. "Never, ever apologize for your curiosity or your love for what you do, Kefira. It is a gift to be treasured. And you will find that in my house, such curiosity is nurtured and fed. Yes, we will find time to visit the mines. I even know the main foreman for the big mine over in Vermont and I'll call and make arrangements to visit before you leave. Ben Johnson is a good man who knows his business and I know he'll be more than happy to talk with you. He is as devoted to it as you are." The girl looked positively radiant, and her father smiled at her indulgently.
"Well," Benton said briskly, "we had better get your bags and get on the road or we won't be home by the time Jonny and Jessie get out of school."
"That is important?" Rajeev asked.
Hadji grinned. "My brother and his girlfriend are not the most patient people in the world. If we are not home, they are just as likely to come looking for us as they are to wait until we get there."
"God forbid!" Benton exclaimed. Everyone was laughing as they approached the luggage carousel.
Jessie strode up to her locker in the Rockport High School and began throwing stuff into it haphazardly. She had originally planned to take a bunch of stuff home with her today just to clean out her locker for the end of the term, but decided to forget about it. She was anxious to leave and she didn't want to take the time. She had seen Jonny very briefly right after second period and he had told her that his father had called to tell him that he was on his way home with Hadji and their guests. It was now just after two o'clock and they should easily be home by this time, even allowing extra time for bad road conditions.
Jonny strode up just as she was closing her locker door. He unceremoniously tossed his books into his locker, snatched up his coat, and said, "Come on, let's go!" Both of them began pulling on coats and hats as they trotted toward the side door that opened out onto the school parking lot. They were just about to go out the door when they heard a familiar voice calling their names. Turning, they saw Bobby Evans approaching them.
"Hey, guys, wait up a second . . ."
Jonny shifted impatiently and replied, "Hey, Bobby. Look, man, I'm sorry, but we really gotta go. We're already late heading for home and we've got guests waiting there."
Bobby stopped breathlessly in front of them, and replied, "Okay. I just had a quick question for you anyway."
"Shoot."
"The Christmas party at your place is still on, right? A week from tomorrow?"
"Yeah. We should have the invitations out tomorrow."
Bobby nodded. "That's all I wanted to know. The Conners are having a Christmas party, too, and I didn't want it to conflict with yours. They said they could pick the day depending on what would work on my schedule."
"What does . . ." Jonny began, but then stopped abruptly as the significance of that comment finally sank in. Next to him, he could feel Jessie stiffen. "Wait a minute. You're NOT bringing Francesca Hamilton to our Christmas party."
"But . . . "
"NO. I won't have her in our house."
"She is my girlfriend," Bobby replied sharply. "If she can't come, then I'm not gonna be there, either."
Jessie laid a hand on Jonny's arm. "Jonny, maybe . . ."
"I said 'no'," he said sharply. "You're an idiot, Bobby. I don't know what Francesca wants, but sooner or later you're gonna find out the hard way what it is. And in the mean time, I'm not going to put my home and my family at risk again while you learn your lesson."
Bobby Evans flushed and replied hotly, "Maybe all she wants is me. Did you ever consider that?"
"Yeah. Right," Jonny replied sarcastically. "All she really wants to be is Little Suzy Homemaker, have a nice house with a pretty white picket fence, raise a house full of cute, pink-cheeked little children, and have you come home to dinner every night after a long day at the office. Get real, Bobby!"
"Jonny!" Jessie said urgently, tugging on his arm desperately.
"Or maybe it's just that you can't admit that you weren't man enough for her!" Bobby retaliated in fury.
"Not man enough for her?" Jonny said, incredulously. "Oh, yeah, I'm sure that was it. I just couldn't live up to her expectations! At least she got her usual jollies in finding herself a new boyfriend. It's just too bad that the person on the losing end had to be Marla."
"You leave Marla out of this!" Bobby snarled. "It's none of your business!"
Jonny turned away, pulling Jessie after him. "You're right. It's not. You want Francesca for a girlfriend, she's all yours. Take her with my blessings." Abruptly, he stopped and turned back to stare at Bobby with a harsh expression. "You just keep her away from me and my family. Clear?"
"Oh, yeah, you've made yourself perfectly clear."
"Fine." And with that Jonny pulled Jessie out the door with him and shut it firmly in Bobby's face.
Jessie dragged at Jonny's arm frantically, trying to slow him down as he crossed the parking lot, dragging her with him. "Jonny . . . Jonny, WAIT. You can't do this. He's your friend. You can't leave it like this!"
"Yes, I can. He knows how I feel about Francesca. If he can't accept that I can't stand her and won't be around her, then he can go with her and the hell with him."
Digging in, she dragged him to a stop and forced him to turn and face her. "Jonny, he doesn't understand. He has no idea what she can be like. We haven't told him everything that went on. And she's good . . . good at playing the innocent . . . at manipulating people to get what she wants. We both know that, sooner or later, the truth will show, and Bobby will be really hurt. He'll need his friends then. Don't alienate him now. Please." Jessie could see him slowly beginning to calm down, but the set of his shoulders and mouth told her that he wasn't prepared to relent.
"That may be, Jess, but I'm not going to allow her close to my family. If that's the choice I have to make, then Bobby will just have to fend for himself. Come on. Let's get home. They're waiting for us."
With a deep sigh, Jessie gave up and followed him across the parking lot to the large snowmobile parked on the far end of the lot. He was right. They needed to get home. But she wasn't finished on this subject. She hadn't liked the idea that Francesca was back in Rockport, but Bobby and Mary had been wrong about one thing. Jessie was ready to give her the benefit of the doubt . . . at least up to a certain point. Until Francesca proved differently, Jessie had been prepared to accept that the girl was here for the reasons she claimed. Jessie could even accept that the pranks that Francesca had been pulling on her were little more than petty jealousy. She'd seen similar stuff pulled by other girls in wars over boyfriends. But that had changed, now. In her own mind, the business with Bobby was confirmation that something was going on.
Jonny hit the starter on the snowmobile as Jessie climbed on behind him and settled herself comfortably. She slid her arms around his waist and held on as he skillfully swung the machine out of the parking place and headed it in the direction of the snowmobile trail that led through the woods, paralleling the main road. "You set?" he yelled over his shoulder.
"Go for it!"
Jonny swung onto the trail and gunned the accelerator, sending them speeding away in the direction of home. The mid-afternoon sunshine sparkled on the snow like diamonds, but Jessie didn't notice it as she continued to contemplate the situation. No, something was up. She could feel it, like an unreachable itch between her shoulder blades. Her radar was sending very loud warning signals over it. This business with Bobby actually had one benefit . . . something she couldn't point out to Jonny in his current frame of mind. At least this would provide a reason to keep Francesca under close surveillance. As strange as it sounded, Jessie wanted to keep the unbridled animosity between the two of them going. Jessie knew that tension kept her sharp . . . watchful. And she had the feeling that in the coming days, that was going to be really important. Jessie focused her attention on Jonny for an instant. Now was not the time to talk to him about the situation, though. He was angry. She could feel it in the rigidness of his body as she clung to him. Leave it alone for now, she thought to herself. Give him some time to calm down, first. Furthermore, Kefira should be here by this time . . .