Disclaimer:  The characters are not my own, I'm only borrowing them to put them into situations of my own imagining.

Finding Family

Part Eleven:  The Ballad of Margaret and Charles

Rating: G

Category: S

Timeline: Sometime in the middle of the series

Spoilers: None

Keywords: MPJF, JOF

Summary:  Miss Parker accidentally shoots Jarod, which forces her to confront her feelings towards him.  Meanwhile, a seriously injured Jarod has to learn to trust someone to help him and finds out a little about his family history.

Thanks for all the encouragement reviewers.  I'm sorry it's been a while.  I've had a series of busy weekends with grades due, girl scout campouts and end of soccer season games and parties for my kids.  In addition, I went off on a tangent on my writing that I had to reign in, I think I have another story (she says mysteriously) but I'm determined to finish this one first.  I know the ending it just hasn't flowed off my fingertips yet but it will.  I Promise!

Houston, Texas, Friday Morning

Mary smiled at Jarod's expectant face, "I see so much of your father in you.  You have his eyes."

"Tell me about him," pressed Jarod eagerly.

"Actually, one of my first memories is of Charles.  I remember he saved my sister and me from a bully when I first went to school.  It was that September when the Japanese finally surrendered and WWII ended.  Margaret is seven years older than I am, so I always looked up to her and couldn't wait to go to school like she did and not stay home with Mother like some baby.  But that whole first week of school I was completely miserable."  She paused seeing his puzzled expression, "We still lived primarily on farms.  Most of the older kids stayed home to help with harvesting, but the younger children went to school.  Well, a new family had moved into town and they had a girl one year older than me and a big boy who was probably fifteen.  Their father had died in the war and their mother had gotten a job at the bank.  I guess they had been well off before, but now they didn't have much money anymore.  That girl tormented me from the very first day.  We were both new to the school, but she couldn't stand it that the other kids already knew who I was from my sister.  That day she took my lunch and when one of the other kids protested, her big brother took his too."

"Mom, I never heard this story before," Emily interrupted.

Mary shrugged, "I guess it's not an especially good memory to recall.  Anyway, my mother noticed that I was eating unusually large amounts at dinner, but I was too frightened to tell her what was happening.  Mother decided to send a Margaret to school the next week.  She said that they had done all the canning, but they hadn't.  She was worried about me.  Well, that girl, Nellie, tried to take my lunch again, but Margaret wouldn't let her.  I was so happy that I had my big sister there, until Nellie ran to get her big brother, Jim.  I guess if I was 6, then Margaret must have been 13, hardly a match for a 15 year old boy.  Well, she was brave and tried to stand up to him, but with one shove he pushed her down so that she fell backwards over the wooden benches and then he took both our lunches!"

Jarod looked worried and angry about an incident that had happened over fifty years ago, "Was she all right?"

"Why didn't the teacher do anything?" asked Emily.

"She was fine," Mary reassured Jarod and then turned to her own daughter, "Oh, he was this milk-toast, thin man who was barely maintaining order in the one room classroom as it was.  He knew if he was openly opposed by any of the really big boys that he would never be able to keep them in line, so he pretended not to notice."

"That's awful!" exclaimed Emily again, "What did your parents do when they found out?"

"Well, that afternoon, my sister and I told my mother about these two mean kids.  At dinner, my mother tried to get my father to get involved, but he wouldn't.  He was a very old-fashioned thinker even for those days.  He said we had to learn to stand on our own two feet, and that he couldn't protect us all our lives.  I was so disappointed that I cried myself to sleep that night.  All my expectations of how great school was going to be were ruined as far as I could tell."

"So how did my father save you?" asked Jarod.

She nodded, "Right, well, the two of them took our lunches all week.  Margaret tried to hide our food in her pockets on Wednesday but Jim saw us sneaking bites and shook her until she gave him the cookies.  Some of the other older kids started coming back to school but none of them would stand up to Big Jim.  Finally, the next week Monday, cousin Charles came to school.  He was only thirteen too, but he was strong from having worked on his family's farm all summer.  Jim didn't know he was our cousin of course, so he came over to all three of us at lunch and told Charles that he should sit somewhere else or pay the consequences.  Charles said he figured this was a free country and that he could sit where ever he wanted.  I didn't want any one to get hurt so I held out my lunch sack.  Charles asked, what are you doing Mary?  I answered, he goes away when we give him our lunch.  Charles looked up at that Big Jim and called him a lying, cheating Nazi.  Those were fighting words back then.  The two of them started shoving and punching each other, knocking all the furniture over, and all the rest of the kids started cheering for Charles."

"Wow," breathed Jarod, "so he beat up Big Jim?"

"No, actually, Charles got knocked out cold.  But not before he gave Jim a black eye and a few other bruises," Mary said shaking her head with the memory.

"But I thought you said that my father saved you from a bully," protested Jarod.

"Wait, I'm not finished yet," Mary replied holding her hands up, seeming to pat the air in front of her.  "Of course, the teacher couldn't ignore the fight and sent some kids for the doctor to come check on Charles' and Jim's injuries.  Then the school board had to call a hearing to hear the circumstances and decide whether the two of them should be suspended or expelled.  I had to tell what happened too.  All these stern looking parents were sitting in chairs across the front of the classroom that night.  I was so scared when I had to answer their questions.  I explained that Jim had been taking our lunches.  He half lied and said he never ate my lunch.  Which was true, since his sister had always eaten my lunch.  Then Jim said he had to fight because Charles had called him a Nazi.  Of course, Charles admitted that he had and that I had willingly held out my lunch to Jim.  Then the teacher said that there had been no trouble until Charles had come to school, because, of course, he had ignored everything.  He was more scared of Big Jim than of Charles and I think he didn't want the parents to know he wasn't in control of the school.  So Charles was suspended for a week and Jim only got a warning."

"What?!  That's not fair!" exclaimed Emily.

"Did they stop taking your food?" asked Jarod.

"They didn't bother us for two days, but when things seemed to be calm again Nellie came up to me and said that I had to give her my lunch or she would get me suspended too.  I was frightened so I did.  That afternoon cousin Charles came to visit with a plan.  He said we had to prove that our lunches were being taken by putting something in the food that would make them sick.  Margaret was horrified that we would poison anybody.  He was quick to grab her hand and look her right in the face.  'We wouldn't really hurt them, just scare them enough to confess,' he reassured her.  He held out a bottle of ipecac syrup that he had found in his family's medicine chest.  He said, 'We just put some of this in the food and they'll be throwing up all over the place.'  I remember he had the most devious grin."

Jarod grinned back at her as he understood what had happened.  He had used people's own greed against them when he set people up to punish them for hurting others.  That must be where he had gotten his own sense of justice, from his father.

"That's the grin!" Mary smiled back at Jarod.  "So Margaret made the most delicious batch of chocolate pudding that afternoon and we had a great snack as we made our plans.  The next day Charles went to see Doc Anderson and tell him what was going to happen.  We had to have at least one grown up on our side and we knew if they got sick that the doctor would be called in.  Sure enough, they took our lunches and ate up all the pudding in the little glass jars my sister had packed it in.  That afternoon, the Doc brought one of the members of the school board with him to make a spot check of the school.  The teacher was doing geography with the two big girls who would obey him at the front of the class, while the rest of us were working quietly.  But Big Jim and some of the other big boys were sitting and whittling on the back row and not having their lesson up front since they knew the teacher couldn't make them do it.  He was really surprised and embarrassed when the two men came in unexpectedly and found him not doing his job properly.  It was about an hour after lunch, so Nellie was looking a little green around the edges, and she called to the doctor to please check her as she felt sick.  The doctor felt her forehead for a fever and told her it was probably something she ate.  Of course, he knew what was going on since Charles had told him about our trap, so he didn't give her much sympathy.  Then Margaret, that big ham, asked Doc to come look at her botany project that she had brought in that day to school.  The teacher encouraged her thinking it would reflect well on him.  So Margaret showed the poster board we had all helped make the afternoon before and when she got to the poisonous pyracantha berries she looked right at Big Jim with an arched eyebrow.  You know she was a great actress, always had the biggest part in the school pageants.  Almost as good as my Emily," she paused to pat her daughter's hand.  "Anyway, the way she looked implied that we had poisoned the food.  He was starting to feel nauseas too and he went crazy yelling that she had poisoned him and his sister and that she had to be expelled from school too.  Then Nellie started throwing up right on top of her desk.  Oh, it was complete pandemonium!"

"I can imagine," chuckled Jarod as closed his eyes briefly to sim the scene in his mind.

"So what happened next?" Emily asked leaning forward eagerly.

"Jim and Nellie confessed that they had taken other kid's lunches because they weren't getting enough to eat at home.  He got expelled from school and took a job at the lumber yard, so Nellie got more to eat and stopped being so mean.  Without him there, and after some scolding by their parents I'm sure, the other big boys obeyed the teacher.  Charles came back to school and let Margaret take all the credit for outsmarting the bully, although I know he was the one to save us from those bullies.  I think his disgust for bullies is one of the reasons why he joined the Air Force."

Jarod felt that same disgust.  When he had escaped the Centre he had hoped to find good and caring people.  He had been dismayed at how many people could be selfish and cruel to others.  He found helping people to overcome those bullies alleviated his own guilt for the hurt people had suffered because of what he had thought up for the Centre all those years.  Now he found himself wondering if he would have helped people anyway.  He wanted to think he would, just like his father.  He picked up the photo album and studied the picture of his father as a young man.  He had dark hair, a round honest face, a little stockier build than his own but a definite resemblance.  "How old is he here?" Jarod asked curiously.

Mary looked down at the photo too, "He is just a few months older than my sister, so eighteen.  That was taken at the beginning of June, and he joined up to fight in the Korean War that started at the end of June.  I remember he left right after the Fourth of July celebrations.  Margaret must have cried for a week."

"Was she worried that he would get killed?" asked Emily.

"Yes, but it was more than worry.  She cried like he already was dead.  Now that I look back, I see that she was already in love with him.  The family had separated them and sent him away to keep them apart.  Of course, at the time, I was only twelve and they deliberately left me out of the loop in what was going on, but I've figured it out over the years and I talked to her about it once."

"What happened?" asked Jarod and Emily simultaneously, ready to hear another story.

"Growing up they were always good friends.  I guess they just thought alike.  They were both pretty smart in school and liked to make things.  Charles was a great carpenter and was really fascinated by machines and especially airplanes.  Margaret was a great cook and seamstress.

As I mentioned, she was a terrific actress and she had just finished a school play at the end of January.  The boy who played the other leading role was smitten with her and invited her to the Valentine's Day dance.  I remember how lovely she looked coming down the stairs when he rang the doorbell to pick her up.  Her red hair was shining in soft waves framing her face and the color was set off perfectly by the turquoise green dress she had made herself.  So many girls would be wearing pink or red, but only Margaret would be wearing green on Valentine's Day.

I didn't get to go of course, but people talked about what happened afterwards.  Margaret danced with a number of young men, even with Charles a few times.  Her date seemed to think he had sole rights to her and started telling the other boys to leave her alone.  Even though it was a cold February night, he talked her into stepping outside to talk.  Apparently, her date got fresh with her, then Charles came to her rescue and decked the guy.  She ran away crying and Charles went after her, while her date went back inside with a black eye and sat brooding in the corner.

You have to remember that we didn't have weather satellites back then and that weather forecasting was still in its primitive stages.  The weather report was more like an after-the-fact report.  So that night a blizzard came roaring down from the North and they can come sweeping in very fast without any warning.  So everyone was stuck at the dance hall until the storm broke.  It wasn't until after midnight when the chaperones were trying to get everyone to settle down and find a piece of floor to sleep on that they realized that Charles and Margaret were gone.

He had chased after her and tried to talk her in to going back to the dance, but she felt too humiliated and showed him where the other guy had torn the front of her dress.  We only lived a mile out of town and she declared that she was just going to walk home.  It was freezing and she had on her coat, but Charles only had his jacket and not his great coat.  Nevertheless, he wouldn't let her go by herself and was afraid to leave her alone to go back for his coat.  So they started off at a brisk walk and were halfway home when the blizzard hit.  They clung to each other and tried to follow the road, but all the swirling snow disoriented them and they stumbled down a side road that led to the skating pond without realizing it.  They only figured it out when Margaret walked right into one of the benches that surrounded the pond that people used to put on their skates or rest.  Charles walked waving his hands back and forth in front of him trying to find the next bench along the bank and they used the row of benches to help them find the hut where food was sold on the weekends.  He kicked open the door and they burst into the small shelter with the swirling snow.  It took the two of them to close it back against the wind and then he pushed a heavy box up against the door to hold it closed."

"It was lucky they found shelter," observed Emily in doctor mode, "hypothermia would have killed them if they had remained out in the storm all night."

"It still might have if Charles hadn't taken such good care of the both of them.  He found an old oil cloth that was used to wrap around some engine parts for boats in the summer.  It was dirty, but it was dry.  So he made Margaret take off her coat, shoes and wet stockings and wrapped her up in it.  Then he rubbed her feet until they were red and tingly to make sure she wouldn't get frostbite.  Then she insisted on rubbing his feet as well so he wouldn't have frostbitten feet either.

When he had feeling in his feet again, he rummaged around the back counter and wall again and found a wooden crate with skates to rent in it and then with great, good luck, a pack of matches on the floor under it.  He broke up the wooden crate, then taking the large, flat top off of a motor casing he used it as a firepan.  They were able to make a small fire to warm their hands and feet and dry out their hair.  Margaret said it didn't really warm them that much but the flickering light of the flames seemed to be battling the storm back from them and cheered them up a lot.  She said they sat with his arm around her, cuddled together for warmth under the old oil cloth talking about all their hopes and dreams for the future.  Sometime in the middle of the night they fell asleep.

They woke up late in the morning.  The storm was still howling and it was a dark gray outside the dusty window set in the door.  The fire had gone out and it was bitter cold inside the hut.  Emily shifted around to get comfortable and found herself looking right in Charles' dark brown eyes.  She said it felt like electricity ran through the two of them and ever so slowly he leaned forward and kissed her softly, then deeper and deeper.  When they came up for breath, she knew she was in love and that he was the only one for her.  But in the same breath, she knew that their love could never be, since they were cousins and their families would never approve.

So the storm finally ended late that night and the next morning they were found.  They were cold and hungry, but not much worse physically.  All that spring they teased each other mercilessly.  I remember being surprised at some of the practical jokes they pulled on each other.  She called him Fly Boy and he called her Red.  They wouldn't allow themselves to be in love, so they tormented each other instead."  Mary paused after her long recital and took a long sip of coffee.

"Finally, that June it all fell apart.  The tension between them had grown so much that it was finally noticed when they were dancing together at anniversary party.  They thought they could sneak out unnoticed, but both our father and Charles' father caught them kissing passionately in the kitchen pantry."

She nodded sadly at the photo again.  "That was taken that very afternoon before the dinner party.  Afterwards, Charles was sent off to enlist in the military.  Naturally, he chose the Air Force.  Then she was sent to a Catholic boarding school in August.  I really missed her.  Our family was never the same after that," she said sadly.

Jarod stared down at the photo again, this time at his mother.  She looked so young and carefree.  She stood behind her parents so that only her face shown clearly, just as Charles had stood behind his in the carefully arranged professional photo.  But they were edged closer together than the other sets of children.  Jarod squinted at the angles of the arms that could barely be seen.  They had to have been holding hands.  He smiled to himself.  "When did they marry?" he asked.

"Three years later after the war ended," she replied.  "Actually, I think that separating them is what pulled them closer together.  They wrote to each other every week.  He was in Korea constantly facing death and thinking about what really mattered to him in his life.  She was in Massachusetts, enrolled as a novice at a Catholic boarding school.  My father was determined to make her a nun, because he was so ashamed of her behavior.  It only served to make her focused on what she wanted which was to be with Charles and have a family.

When he got back in 1953 after the end of the war, he came to visit her right away.  She left the convent that afternoon and they were married the next day by a justice of the peace.  They tried to come visit, but my father refused to let my mother take me to see them.  Father met them over at Charles' families house.  His family talked to them, but still wouldn't give their approval to their marriage.  My father disowned her, of course."

"Disowned?" Jarod didn't understand the concept.

"He refused to even acknowledge her as his daughter, partly because she disobeyed him, partly because he was embarrassed, and partly because they were cousins.  They were both ignored by the family after that and no one could talk or write, let alone go visit them."

"But why would they no longer be part of the family?"

"It's a major religious and social taboo.  The family had a standing in the community as church leaders and it would embarrass them to condone their marriage.  Margaret argued and gave examples of all sorts of famous people who had married cousins, like Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt.  But father wouldn't hold with what European royalty or American high society accepted in order to keep their bloodlines "pure".  He was quite opposed to caste system rules and special privileges.  He didn't want his family looking anything like that, so he just pretended that she never even existed after they married," Mary explained sadly.

Jarod stared off in the distance.  He knew that feeling of wanting to be with someone who was forbidden.  In many ways his own relationship with Miss Parker was like the one his parents had together.  They had also been best friends as kids, having adventures and being brave together.  Saving each other's lives and parting, only to realize that their lives would never really be complete without the other.  Their parents who disapproved and kept them apart, were a much tamer version of Mr. Parker and the Centre who kept Miss Parker from him.  Somehow, his parents had found the courage to be together in spite of all the obstacles.  But had they really found happiness?  He didn't want to follow their example if all it did was lead to ruin in the end.  He looked over at his aunt.  A woman he had just met, but who had given him the best present anyone ever had in his whole life by giving him stories of his own family.  "Were they ever truly happy?" he asked his voice cracking slightly in fear of her answer.

"Oh, yes, when you were born she told me it made her joy complete," Mary said kindly.  "It was tough at first without a family to help them get started.  Charles stayed in the military and was often away, so Margaret lived with a young woman she had met at the convent.  Her friend hadn't become a nun either, so they had a lot in common.  They got secretarial jobs together at a large corporation that was headquartered near this other woman's home.  Finally, Charles got posted to a nice, office job in the Pentagon and they moved to Washington D.C.  Although she was happy to have her husband home all the time, Margaret was frustrated at not having a family.  She had had a couple of miscarriages and happened to see her old friend who helped them get into a fertility clinic in Atlanta, Georgia.  They actually moved there for a while until the clinic helped them have you," she said rather proudly thinking he would be happy to hear about how he was born.  Instead she was startled to see the dark, brooding look in his eyes as he stared at her almost in horror.

"What was the woman's name," he demanded tersely.

"I don't remember," Mary answered slowly.

"Where was this corporation?  What was it's name?" he grilled her.

"I don't think she ever said," she replied getting a little frightened of him.  Fortunately, the tense moment was broken by the cry of baby Will in the next room.  The children had been playing happily, temporarily forgotten by the adults as they had talked.  Emily started to get up, but her mother didn't want to be left alone with Jarod just now.  "Let me.  I haven't seen my grandson yet.  I'll let you two talk a bit," Mary said pushing away from the table quickly and stepping into the other room.

"I don't believe it," he said darkly.

"What?" asked Emily.

"She could never have worked for them!  That place is evil.  My mother would never have been a party to that.  She couldn't," he protested like a child.  Jarod had fallen deeply into the stories of his parents which had fleshed them out as people more than any of his imaginings over the years ever had.  But the one constant he had always had in his mind as he had tried to imagine his family over the years was that they were good.  They were good, and honest, and they loved him, and they did the total opposite of everything the Centre did.  His whole fantasy life fell crumbling around him to think that his mother had ever worked for them, willingly.  He felt betrayed somehow.

"Where do you think your mother worked?" Emily asked calmly.

Jarod looked at her with his dark eyes full of anguish, "The Centre."

Emily swallowed and tried to dissuade him, but she knew he was right, "My mom didn't even know the name of the place.  You don't know for sure."

"No, it makes sense.  It fits all the other pieces that I know.  My parents were friends with Catherine Parker.  She had gone to a convent called St. Catherine of the Hills, but never took her vows.  She married Mr. Parker who runs the Centre.  And I know she helped them get into the Nugenesis fertility clinic in Atlanta.  I always thought it was her kindness that got them priority at the clinic, but what if the Centre was helping her help them because they knew my mother had the pretender gene…" Jarod trailed off and stared off out the window.

"There's a pretender gene?" asked Emily.  "I know a bit about genetics," she said modestly, "and I realize they've barely made a dent in sequencing the human genome, but I follow that progress in my science journals and there is no such thing," she concluded firmly.

Jarod didn't actually hear her as he as his incredibly brilliant mind fit all the facts together and filled in the gaps with plausible pieces.  "It all makes sense.  My parents had difficulty having a child because they were cousins.  She had miscarriages because the close genetics increases the chances of getting two copies of bad genes and causing incorrect development.  But it also increases the chances of getting two copies of super active, good genes.  The Centre probably tested my mother's blood as part of a health check up.  They couldn't really train an adult for their use, so they kept an eye on her in the hopes that she would have a child that would inherit the trait.  Imagine their excitement when they found out she was actually married to her own cousin."

"Well, I still don't think there's a genius gene or there would be a whole lot more people out there just like you," protested Emily.

"You're right, actually it's a gene cluster.  But they do have a couple of genetic markers.  I've seen the research.  I've used a gene probe to identify and rescue a boy who they planned to kidnap and develop in my place," Jarod finally focused back on Emily.  "In fact, I think you may have some of the pretender genes too.  We should test your blood against mine.  You need to know just so you can protect yourself, and your family.  There's a good chance your children have it too.  If the Centre found out, they would have no qualms about kidnapping your children," he warned her.

Mary walked back in the room just at the end of his sentence to hear his low voice seem to threaten her daughter with kidnapping her children.  Her daughter's terrified face did little to reassure her, and she was suddenly doubting her initial impression of this man.  Who was he really?  He looked like family, but she knew very well that he hadn't been raised by family.  How much of our selves is from our genetics and how much from our nurturing?  The instincts of a mother to protect her young surged through Mary and she crossed the room quickly and slapped him across the face.  "Don't you dare suggest such a thing!  Don't you know how much anguish your mother went through when you and your brother were taken from her?" Mary exclaimed angrily.

"MOTHER!" Emily sprang to Jarod's defense.

Jarod stared at the older woman, his cheek stinging, he shook his head slowly as his eyes filled with tears, "No, I don't know," he answered her question literally.  "You've told me more in the last hour than I've ever known.  I've been searching for my family ever since I escaped from the Centre.  I saw my mother once, but they came before I could talk to her and I had to run to get away."

Instantly, Mary regretted her actions when she saw the depth of his pain in his eyes.  She sat down again and took his hands in hers and apologized softly, "I'm sorry.  I only saw her once more myself.  I know how you feel. 

Jarod nodded realizing she was just protecting her family, "I forgive you.  Tell me about when you saw her, please."

"After my father died in 1959, I searched for her to tell her and to try to reconnect with her again.  They were living in Georgia then, close to the fertility clinic.  She couldn't travel because she was pregnant with you and didn't want to endanger her pregnancy.  We must have talked for three hours on the phone.  We wrote to each other, but we never saw each other because I was busy getting engaged and getting married to your father, Emily," Mary started, reaching out one hand to hold her daughter's hand as well.

"It wasn't until after you were born that I finally made the effort to go and visit.  They had moved again to a small town in Michigan.  We had the best weekend.  It was almost like no time had passed and we were girls playing dolls again except they were real babies, you two," she squeezed their hands and smiled.  "You were about three and could talk so well.  Oh, you were curious about everything!  She was so patient with all your 'Whys'.  She was pregnant with your brother and so happy with her family and simple life out in the country."

"How old was I, Mom?" asked Emily.

"You were six months old, and as cute as a button," replied Mary fondly. 

"Isn't there a photograph in my old baby book?" asked Emily.  "That's why I called you last night.  I vaguely remembered that."

"Yes," acknowledged Mary.  "I'm sorry I didn't think to bring that with me."

"I remembered you telling me about having an aunt and cousins but that they were gone.  We never saw them and you never talked about them.  I guess I always thought you meant that they had died."

Mary nodded sadly, "When we went on that weekend, I thought that the past was behind us and that we would see each other again and have family holidays and such.  But I never saw her again after you disappeared, Jarod.  It must have been about five months later.  She called me one afternoon incredibly upset.  The police had finally left and your father was still out of town on an assignment.  She was home alone after both you and your baby brother had been taken during the night.  Oh, her heart was broken.  I should have gone to comfort her, but money was so tight then.  Everything happened so fast.  She was accused of harming the two of you and covering it up, but there was no evidence to support that.  Your father was pushing people he knew in D.C. to help when suddenly he was court-martialed for passing secrets to the communist Koreans way back during the war.  There wasn't enough evidence to convict him, but he was dishonorably discharged.  Your mother was cleared as well, but everyone she knew was suspicious and unfriendly to her.  One day, they just left, disappeared themselves.  I never saw or talked to my sister again.  The last time I heard anything about them was about five years later, when their lawyer contacted me to say they had died in a plane crash and wanted me to sign some papers to settle their small estate so it would pay his bill.  The lawyer said it was a shame, they had finally found where you were and going to see you but never made it," she concluded sadly.

"But you said earlier you had talked to my father last year," Jarod reminded her.

"Yes, I was incredibly surprised.  Charles told me they faked their death to avoid being really hurt.  I can't imagine why.  He wouldn't tell me when I asked."

"I know why," Jarod said in a low voice.

Mary studied his face and the way he clenched his jaw, "I have a feeling you won't tell me either if I asked."

"Believe me, it's better if you don't know," he answered.

"Well, he wouldn't tell me much but was excited about some news of you that he had.  He thought you might contact me someday and if so wanted me to help you contact him.  He swore me to secrecy, Emily.  I'm sorry.  Besides I didn't want to scare you with stories of kidnappings in our family."

Emily smiled back, "I understand, Mom."

"So how do I contact him?" asked Jarod with excitement in his voice.

"I post a personal ad in the Sunday edition of the Chicago Sun Times and he'll get back to me," she explained.

"Let's do it now," exclaimed Jarod, "It's Friday already."

"Well, let me make a long distance phone call then," she replied standing up from the table.  "It is going to take several days of waiting," she warned looking at Jarod's eager face.

"I understand," he replied, "but this is the closest I've been to finding my family in years."

Mary went into the kitchen to make the phone call and Emily got up to check on her children.  Jarod was left alone at the table to reflect on the conversation of the past hour.  He had recognized so much of himself in his parents.  He always felt that he didn't know who he was, yet now he realized that he did have a personality of his own.  True he could adapt to fit any role for a pretend scenario, but he had a baseline to which to return to when it was over.  That basic personality was the one he had gotten from his parents.

Emily returned to the dining room table with the small boy fussing in her arms.  She settled herself down and the baby nursed hungrily.  She looked up to see Jarod watching her and the baby idly.

"How much do you think our personalities are shaped by our genetics?" he asked her.

"I don't know.  I think we inherit abilities or gifts that we can develop, like the ability to sing for instance.  But there is clear evidence that how you are nurtured as a baby affects you as well.  For instance, those orphan children in Romania who were just kept in cribs all day and never held, grew up to be autistic," she replied thoughtfully.  "Actually, that's the main reason why I'm staying home with my children.  My parenting books all say that your basic personality is developed by the age of four.  If my kids have any bad habits or quirks, I want them to be from me," she laughed.

Jarod cocked his head to the side and smiled, "I was raised by my parents until I was almost four when the Centre took me away from them."

"Then they would have had a big influence on you," she reassured him.

"I don't remember anything before the Centre," he sighed in frustration.  "I don't remember my parents at all.  Since I escaped I've been looking for them but they hide as well as I do."

"I'm sorry," Emily replied simply.

"It's just that I never considered the reason that they are able to hide so well may be because they have pretender abilities too.  Your mother said that my mom was a great actress.  If she has been able to stay out of the clutches of the Centre all these years, then she must be really good," Jarod said with pride.  "I've always been frustrated and angry with not finding my parents.  I never considered that it was a connection, a trait or ability that we shared.  And one that you and I share as well.  I'm serious about testing you.  We should test your kids too."

Emily looked thoughtful as she realized what he was saying.  "I still have some friends who do research in the Medical Center.  I could probably talk someone into sharing a their lab bench for a couple days.  I could call Evelyn.  She's sort of a mentor of mine.  She's an older woman who is the lab manager for one of the medical school professors.  He's never in the lab and she basically runs the place.  Actually, she's the one who encouraged me to stay home with my baby."

Jarod stared at her with a dawning suspicion.  It would be an incredible coincidence if it was true.  He was almost afraid to ask, "Evelyn?  Evelyn White?"

"Why, yes," answered Emily in surprise.  "How do you know her name?"

"She is one of the reasons I came to Houston in the first place.  I was trying to help her daughter find her and to reunite them," explained Jarod.

"Wow, what a small world!  But I'm surprised that you are helping someone.  I thought you are on the run from the Centre."

"I am, but that doesn't mean I want to lock myself away somewhere.  They had me locked up long enough.  I escaped so that I could help people," he answered logically.

She stared at him in surprise for a moment and then her face broke out in a wide, beautiful smile, "I like you even more.  I'm so glad you're my cousin."

He beamed back at her as a warm feeling of belonging filled his soul.  It wasn't quite the family he had been looking for, but it was a family connection none-the-less.

"As soon as mother gets off the phone, I'll make some calls myself.  She can stay here with the kids this afternoon during their nap time while you and I go to the medical center," Emily continued.

Mary walked back into the room announcing, "I placed the personal ad.  It will run this Sunday."  Emily got up and Mary took her place at the table, "So Jarod, any other questions?"

"Well, actually, one big one," he said with a slightly embarrassed grin,  "What's my name?"

"Jarod Russell Wright," she answered with a slight laugh of her own, "My sister said once, how could she go wrong if she was married to Mr. Wright?"

Jarod repeated the name softly to himself.  It felt, well, right.

To Be Continued