DISCLAIMER: Spot and Jack don't belong to us. But all of these pleasant kids do! Muahaha!
A.N.: Thanks for all the kindly reviews!
A Tale of Two Families…Trying to Make it as One
The enigma known as J.P. entered the Kelly abode later than his siblings, for he wasn't quite looking forward to the punishment he knew awaited him for his actions during school earlier. Apparently, word of his supposed 'blasphemous' insubordination had spread like wildfire among those under the roof housing him, and he knew it couldn't have taken but an hour before his mother and father had learned of the happening as well. Which is why he wasn't making too loud a noise while ascending the stairs to his room. If he could simply sneak down the hallway and……
"Joel Patron Conlon!"
He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes tight in almost a wince, as if the pronunciation of his full name had brought such a sting to his flesh. Then, masking himself with nonchalance once more, he casually turned around to find himself standing before his very parents, their expressions ones of blatant displeasure. "Mother?" he replied, completely disregarding Spot's presence. Spot was obviously aggravated by the lack of respect and would've downright backhanded the boy had Dewey not spoken up.
"What's this I hear about you disobeying your teacher on just your first day of school? For once, do you think you could shelf your rudeness and pride and show respect to someone? You can't imagine how it made me feel to hear about this not from you, but from someone else's kids! What is going on, J.P? Why do you always have to defy someone?"
The boy listened on expressionless, his dark cyan eyes consumed with indifference. "You know what they say: like father, like son." He threw Spot a challenging glare and turned around to start for his room, but his father grabbed his arm with an iron-like grip and spun him back about, pressing him up against a wall of the hallway so hard J.P. thought he'd gotten the wind knocked from him.
"You listen to me real closely, J.P.," said Spot, with the menacing residue left behind from his times as Brooklyn leader, when his volatile temper did well to whip his newsboys into submission. "I'm getting tired of you thinking the world revolves around you. You've already switched schools twice back in Brooklyn, and I'm not catering to your needs any longer, you hear me? You need to learn how to grow up; who the hell do ya think you are acting like you can do whatever pleases you?"
"Michael!" Dewey was aghast. It was no wonder Ethan and J.P. implemented such foul language into their vocabulary when they had a parent to model after.
"And who the hell do ya think you are ordering me around like my father when you haven't even been a part of my life these past fourteen years!" The boy was indignant, glowering up at the man in sheer defiance. It always bothered him how Spot could have rights to chastising them, but cast aside any aspects of family life dealing with love and more happier times.
"Oh?" Spot showed no outward signs of his rage, save for his electrifying eyes now turned grey and brewing a storm. He wasn't surprised by his son's profanity, merely the audacity the boy had to utter the words before him. He grabbed J.P. by the collar of his shirt and began dragging him toward a nearby bathroom, absolutely merciless in his treatment, not stopping once despite the boy's tripping and falling from being forced on.
Dewey quickly followed after, ready to intercede should her help be needed. Spot held the role of disciplinarian in the family, but she knew he sometimes went much too far. She watched as her husband threw open the bathroom door, yanked J.P. to the sink, and turned on the hot water, which began letting off steam in mere minutes. "I don't think your mother appreciates you cursing every other sentence. We're going to have to clean out that dirty mouth."
J.P. opened his mouth to object but no sooner had he parted his lips, Spot shoved a slab of soap into his mouth, took it out after a good lathering, and then dipped the boy's face into the water steadily collecting into the sink. He repeated this three more times until the actions became so callous that J.P. was on the verge of suffocating!
"That's enough!" Dewey said firmly, astonished by the rough treatment and more than willing to free her son from the punishment. She snatched him from Spot's hold and wiped the boy's face dry before sending him off to his room. When he was gone, she set her eyes onto Spot with a hard glare. "Were you planning on killing him, Spot!"
"I don't need this from you, alright? You always try to take their sides and make me look like the 'evil parent'. What they need is some hard-cold discipline, and if you're too humanitarian to do it, then I guess the job's mine, isn't it?" His face was taut, anger surging through his whole body.
"What they need is a father who isn't a complete hypocrite! You lecture them day in and day out about what they can and can't do, but you're the first to break the rules!"
"Do you think it's easy to be in my position!" he snapped back at her, his voice bordering a yell. "Damnit, Lily! Is that what I am to you? A hypocrite? But I guess it's completely fine that this hypocrite was the one who paid all the bills back in Brooklyn, put the first down payment on our house, spent a fortune on everything you and the kids ever wanted…I wasn't a hypocrite then, was I?"
"That's not what I'm saying…"
But he was already shaking his head, pushing past her to head downstairs. As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over and he wasn't going to give her the time of day unless it was of the utmost necessity. "You just go on being their little hero, alright? Think whatever ya want about me, I couldn't care less." And then he left her with not a single word more.
A few nights later, a most terrible rainstorm tore through the country-lands with a fierceness that hadn't been known for years. Citizens were advised through the radio airwaves to remain inside their homes until the gale passed, and to remain on high grounds should the heavy downpour of water cause a flood. Jack all the while kept a watchful eye on the storm's progress, ready to come to the ranch animals' aid if need be.
Meanwhile, in the girls' room, Ruthie was tossing and turning on her bed in the midst of a nightmare. Awaking with a start, she was even more frightened to see dancing shadows play across the wall from the outside tree's branches and to hear the ammunition of rain descend unto the roof.
"Don't worry, Ruthie," she heard a small and soft voice whisper beside her, which she recognized to belong to Adelaide. "We get storms like this a lot. Daddy says without rain there wouldn't be flowers, though, so it doesn't bother us. But if you're scared, we can always go to my daddy and mommy's room."
"Why would you go there?"
Adelaide cocked her head to one side curiously and scooted closer to her friend. She'd decided the first day the Conlon's had arrived that she wouldn't mind at all sharing a bed with the girl, and so presently they sat up under one cover, listening to the whistling wind. "Don't you ever go there when you have a nightmare? Whenever I have a bad dream, I go to mommy or daddy and they let me sleep on their big bed sometimes. But first we pray that God will take the bad dream away, and then we go back to sleep and have happy dreams."
"Oh," replied Ruthie simply, and then "do you think we can go there now?"
"Sure we can!" They threw off their covers, climbed onto their tiny feet, and snuck out the room quietly as to not wake Felicity, both clutching a doll to their chest. Before settling down at the bed of the Kelly couple, though, the young friends made a brief detour at one of the boys' bedroom, where Ruthie wished to invite Andy in accompanying her; being twins, the two were practically inseparable. Neeko had been awakened by the storm, as well, and desired to be in the company of his older siblings while Adelaide tugged on Luke's pajamas, pleading with him to attend the rendezvous. When the five children were situated, they marched onward to their destination, trying to stifle giggles as they held each other's hands and navigated their way through the dark halls.
Back in the master bedroom, Amy was on the verge of falling asleep after having just read a few scriptures and encouraged Jack to obtain whatever grains of slumber he still could while the night was young, but he was too preoccupied with gazing out the window and wondering whether or not he should move some of the animals into the house. A few years ago when a tornado had struck the country, he-along with several cowhands-had worked hard and long to evacuate the horses, poultry, and goats into the first floor of the house! Quite a menagerie it had turned out to be, though the kids had been in love with the idea.
"Sweety," he said to Amy for the fifth time that evening, "do you think I should go check on the animals?"
"Jack, I'm sure they'll be fine. The storm isn't that bad, you know. Get some rest."
He was about to go on, but the door to their room suddenly flung open, Adelaide standing in the door way consumed with girlish laughter. "I think we have company," he said to his wife with a grin, nudging her awake as he held out his arms to receive Adelaide into a hug. She, in response, dashed into the room and leapt toward her father, squealing with delight as he began to tickle her.
Amy smiled at this and sat up against the bed's headboard, passing a hand through her daughter's silken light brown hair before she happened to glance back toward the doorway and realized she had more guests. "Oh, come on in, you guys," she said to them warmly, gesturing them forth. "Wow, we have Luke, Andy, Ruthie, and Neeko all here too. To what do I owe the honor?"
Luke climbed onto his parents' bed and positioned himself right in the middle while Adelaide went on to explain Ruthie's fears. The three Conlon children stood side by side somewhat nervously, thinking perhaps they had no place hoping this woman would pacify their worries as she did for her own. But when Amy beckoned for them to take a seat on her bedside, their doubts were washed away.
"Do you all remember the story of Noah's Ark?" the woman began with a smile. She received soft answers of "yes" or head-bobs in return and so proceeded with her speaking. "Noah and his whole big family were crunched up in the ark with all kinds of animals for a really really long time, weren't they?" She spoke slowly and with enthusiasm, wanting to catch the attention of each child. "It rained for so long, and I'm sure there were times when Noah and his family were scared, but why were they able to stay so peaceful do you think?"
"Because they knew God was taking care of them!" Luke exclaimed happily from where he lay beside Jack. He grinned with bright eyes, hoping his reply had been correct. He'd learned this bible story in Sunday school last week, and remembered the details vividly.
"That's right, Luke," said his mother, lightly laughing at the happiness his knowledge had brought him. "No matter how bad the storm got or how much they felt like being somewhere else, they knew God was taking care of them and that they had nothing to worry about. Sometimes in life, we get really scared because we don't know why things happen or when they'll stop, but if we just take a minute and remind ourselves that God loves us, we know nothing can ever separate us from Him."
The Conlon trio hung on to every last word. "So he'll take care of us always?" asked Andy
"Always."
The conversation was momentarily disrupted when a light knock sounded on the door and signaled to those gathered within the room that yet another guest had come to visit. It was Rhett, dressed not in pajamas but rather the clothes he donned whenever helping Jack out on the ranch. "Dad," he said urgently, "can I check up on the animals right quick? Just to make sure they're doing okay. You don't want them thinking we've abandoned them."
Jack was already shaking his head before the question had been completed. "I don't want you going out in that storm, son. It's too dangerous right now. I'll go check up on them in a few minutes."
"But dad, why can't I just go now? It'll only take a little bit, and look, I'm already dressed…"
"Then I'll go with you." He started to rise from the bed but Rhett took a step into the room, obviously determined to do this on his own, and said to his father with a serious and pleading expression, "Dad, let me be a man for once…" Jack looked at him, torn at the prospect of sending his thirteen-year old out into a storm, and glanced at Amy to see where she stood on the matter. With a heavy sigh, he combed his fingers through his hair and only nodded.
Rhett was elated by the opportunity. "Alright! I'll be right back!" Grinning from ear to ear, he raced through the halls, down the stairs, and out into the rain to do his job.
"Don't worry, Mr. Kelly," Neeko said to the man when he saw the concern on the father's face, "God will protect him."
The day following the storm, the two families headed on outside to see about whatever damage had been down to the property. Fortunately, the harm wasn't too drastic; all that needed repairing was the stable, where several stalls had been battered to splintered shards, hay scattered all about the floor like party confetti. Jack was thankful no animals had been harmed during the previous night's portentous gale, though, and went about fixing up the wooden structures void of occupants in a somewhat optimistic manner.
Rhett was at his side constantly, tossing over the tools Jack designated as the renovations were being made. He looked quite honored to be helping his father as so, for his spirits were lively and his face bright while Jack indulged the boy with a small tutorial about the instruments and types of wood being implemented for the stable's repair. Rhett listened intently, eyes sparkling with the curiosity of a child.
"Dad, wouldn't it be better if we just knock down the excess wood? I mean, we don't even need this many stalls. It really seems like a waste of materials for these ones to be empty." He gently kicked at one of the empty sections, watching a fruit spider crawl out of a hole and scurry across the surface of the wall, and then looked back up to his father for a reply. He was only suggesting a reasonable possibility. After all, they had no more than six horses. Why have a stable that could house twelve?
"Well think about it, Rhett," Jack answered patiently with a small smile, "what could the benefit of having extra space be?"
The boy pondered this for a moment while passing the man a board of plywood and two six-inch nails. "Maybe we could offer boarding whenever a friend comes by horseback?" His father nodded encouragingly and thus he was inspired to continue his brainstorming. "I guess when you start breeding them again we'd need more room for the colts and the fillies. Plus, I guess it works to our benefit whenever we need to store supplies and stuff."
"You're absolutely right," Jack replied, ruffling his son's hair before reaching for another nail. "See, these are the things you'll need to figure out for yourself one day when you run this business."
Rhett beamed with excitement at the words and leaned against a three-foot haystack while he watched the man work. He couldn't wait for the day when he could finally follow in Jack's footsteps; it was something he and his brothers endlessly dreamed about. Hopefully, if he was able to run the ranch half as good as his father did, he'd deem himself beyond successful.
His eyes turned to a melodic bout of giggles coming from the back patio of the house, where Adelaide and Ruthie sat having a tea party with their dolls with Felicity supervising. For the most part, the girls were getting along quite well. The youngest two shared a common passion for dolls and dress-up, and so not a word of dispute ever left their little mouths since the day allotted them plenty of playtime. He could tell his younger sister adored Ruthie's collection of dolls and miniature accessories, and if he'd concluded correctly about the Conlon girl, it wouldn't be long before they were sharing their possessions.
He wished he could say the same for all the boys. Andy and Connor were the only ones who had enough cordiality in them to fellowship with Luke and Ty, and though the four socialized still with a barrier of hesitancy between them, he hoped they'd eventually get over their differences and become close companions. He wasn't use to fueling divisions among his siblings, and this unusual anarchy between the Conlon's was something that quite frankly disgusted him. Why was it that the mother and father were always arguing, and that half the time their children didn't seem to appreciate what was given them?
"Connor sure likes our animals," he said aloud to himself, but low enough so that Jack hadn't heard him. While the others chased the two family Labradors for mere sport, Connor seemed to do it out of adoration for the dogs. Rhett had noticed this several times before as well. The blonde seemed utterly fascinated by any animal he passed. "He should be able to get along great with Ty since they both love nature so much…"
"What, son?" Jack looked back at the boy after having sanded down some wood. When the boy assured him he hadn't said a thing, he went back to fixing up the stalls.
Rhett continued analyzing each of the newly-arrived occupants of his house. Next was little Neeko, who enviously watched his older brothers lollygagging about with the dogs as he, himself, clutched ever so tightly that age-old stuffed bear he was always carrying about. Rhett truly believed Neeko was the easiest individual with whom one might get along among the Conlon children, and that was because the boy barely spoke a word! Didn't utter a single complaint, even though he had every right to, seeing how he suffered from bronchitis. "Poor Neeko…can't play as hard as the others. Maybe I can help him find other hobbies around here…"
Next under his scrutinizing gaze was Ethan. The words: bratty, spoiled, unappreciative, and annoying came to mind. And it didn't sit too well with him that the boy had been so rude to Felicity Sunday morning. Rhett didn't mean to be judgmental but Ethan too eagerly self-appointed himself as prince of the Kelly estate, a pretty-boy who wouldn't lift a single finger to work if he could help it. "Even his own dad is working. The least he could do is help…" At that moment, Spot returned from the shed to which he'd been sent to fetch an extra box of Jack's tools. With a "thank you", Rhett took the carton and placed it at his father's feet.
That's when he noticed someone he'd almost looked over in his mental run-down of the family members. J.P. Just the thought of him filled Rhett with sheer hatred. His mother always taught him to love his enemies no matter how difficult it might be, but J.P. most certainly had to be an exception. He was dark, sadistic, and flat-out mean. He spoke with such profanity and disobeyed his parents in a way that shocked Rhett. What more, the Conlon boy wasn't even helping any, only lounging about against the door of a stall reading his confounded book of Oscar Wilde prose, occasionally shooting Rhett a smirk as if daring him to voice a complaint.
Rhett surely wasn't one to be challenged and shot his own glare back at J.P. "Dad, don't you think J…" He was interrupted, though, when his mother came out with a plate of fresh homemade chocolate chip cookies, announcing in a loud but gentle voice that the snack was ready as soon as the children washed up from their playtime. Dewey was behind her with a pitcher of lemonade and a stack of small cups; she seemed content to have been able to help the woman in at least something.
"Come on, Ruthie!" squealed a delighted Adelaide, as she climbed to her feet and rushed toward the cookies, only to be sent back by her mother to clean up the toys she had left behind. "But Mommy!" she protested with a childish pout, trying to bargain with the woman as she reached for a cookie.
"Adelaide, as soon as you and Ruthie pick up all those dolls, you can have all the cookies you want." The little girl frowned playfully, hoping it would earn her a cookie for the moment, but seeing that her mother was constant in the decision, she rushed back to Ruthie and gathered as many dolls as she could hold in her arms to store them back into the trunk in their room.
Meanwhile, Ty and Luke were working the water pump to thoroughly wash their hands, demonstrating to Andy and Connor how to properly manipulate the machine to get the water to surge out either gently or with steady force. Ethan wasn't too fond of cookies and so lingered behind near the shed where he was aimlessly strolling around thinking about the girlfriend he'd left behind while Neeko rushed to his mother half-coughing half-giggling to receive his own share of the midday snack. Felicity laughed at his eagerness good-naturedly and poured a cup of lemonade for herself and the small boy with a warm smile.
Such harmony, though, was soon to be shattered. J.P. slammed the book he'd been reading shut and shoved past a still-laboring Rhett with a critical look. "Are you going to lick the mud off your dad's boots too, Rhetty-boy?" he whispered in mockery, his grin lopsided as he reaped a glare from his counterpart. Knowing Rhett was too busy helping Jack to retaliate, and that he was too respectful toward his parents to do so anyway, J.P sauntered toward Mrs. Kelly and his mother for a brief repose from his idleness.
As he reached for a cookie from the plate, though, Amy slowly retracted the tray and offered the boy a smile instead. "They're really delicious, J.P. Maybe if you helped out the others for a bit you could have one. I baked them so that when they took a break, they could have something nice to eat." Her intentions were benevolent and of the utmost kindness, but the boy assumed she simply didn't want him to enjoy what was obviously prepared for her own children, and in a sudden fit of rage he smacked the plate from her hands, sending the 16 cookies flying to the grass. "Fine!" he spat. "I didn't want the stupid thing anyway." Amy was taken aback by the action, and Dewey rendered speechless out of shame.
Rhett looked on in horror, filled with an urge to knock the boy upside the head. He started forward but Jack held him back gently, reminding him they had work to do. Rhett didn't understand how his father could be so passive…until he saw Spot stalk toward the incident with obvious motives to scold his son.
Spot snatched J.P. by the back of his shirt and through clenched teeth ordered that the boy apologize. When J.P showed no signs of humbling himself, Spot tightened his grip until the boy was quite near to yelping from pain. Finally, not wanting to provoke his father's wrath further, he mumbled a "sorry", eyes diverted downward in a sour scowl.
"Good," said Spot, releasing him and then crossing his arms. "Since you wanted a snack so badly that you had to act rude, you can have it now. Eat all the cookies. Off the ground."
J.P.'s eyes widened at the bizarre demand as he looked at the damp grass upon which the cookies had fallen. Surely his father didn't expect him to consume such grime! A thousand snappy retorts ran through his mind, but he had a feeling he'd be publicly humiliated if he dared talk back this time around.
"It's okay," Amy said with a small smile, trying to keep the day as lighthearted as possible. "I can always make another batch. Would you like to help me, J.P.?"
He gave her an incredulous look and started to turn away, but Spot grabbed him again and gestured toward the cookies. "Eat. Them." J.P. looked at his mother for aid, but she was resigned in this matter, obviously telling him in wordless dictation that he'd gotten himself into the mess. Desperate to not make it evident how much his pride was blown by the situation, J.P. dropped to his knees and angrily began snatching up the cookies, shoving them into his mouth, fighting back the urge to hurl at the mere thought of eating infested baked goods.
"I'd hurry up if I were you," Spot suggested with a light smirk. "Ya never know what insects are crawling on those things."
This made the boy nearly gag, but he continued on nonetheless. He'd just been given yet another reason to hate his father so.
Whew! Long chapter! Please review!