Tales of A Grandmother

by mcj

NOT MOVIE-VERSE It's Grandma's birthday and tonight she's leaving no story untold. STORY COMPLETE

13. CHAPTER 7 FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMAGE CONT...

Author's Note - Well after laying very low on this story due to the controversy the last chapter created I have decided to brave the knockers, pull on my bullet proof vest and hard hat and write Gordon's Tale anyway. Like it if you dare, hate it if you wish …it's one long Tale for the Gordon lovers that I enjoyed writing no matter what. mcj

CHAPTER 7 - FIVE GRANDSONS IN DAMAGE CONTROL - PART FOUR - THE AQUANAUT SPEAKS

Well the pool game is over now and I think I've managed to rile Johnny up sufficiently for one night .. well maybe not quite ... I forgot about that little "surprise" I've arranged for later when he sits down for supper.

Provided we ever get supper around here that is.

I'm starving and John is holding up proceedings by keeping Grandma entertained out on the balcony pointing at the stars. Doesn't he realise I'm fading away to a shadow in here while he's talking shop?

Now what's Grandma doing? Great ! Now she's hugging him! That'll go on for another half an hour like it usually does.

I see Kyrano nod to himself as he passes by the balcony doors. I know what's going through his head and almost beg him to change his mind as I see him move through to the kitchen with the clear intent of turning things down.

It's obvious he's decided supper is going to be delayed tonight.

Enough of the mush already Johnny! We know you love Grandma but I'm starving to death man.

Now what? No don't point at the evening star again and start talking about Mother and Grandpa. Not when there are those of us who need our sustenance in here. I don't know about the others but I've been out swimming in the bay most of the day and all that exercise has given me one heck of an appetite.

Well I was sort of out there all day. I didn't get a lot of exercise done though. I managed to swim over to the other side of the island despite the pain but I had to just sit there afterwards. After few hours I knew I had to walk back. I simply couldn't swim any more ... not today.

My back hurts so badly tonight.

No I can't think about my back. This is a happy occasion and I have to be the life of the party. I throw Dad a big grin as he walks past me. He pats my shoulder and asks me if I'd like him to fetch me another drink on his way back. I force my smile to remain painted on my face and thank him for the offer.

"A Scotch thanks Dad." I reply.

My shoulder is killing me too.

No ... I can't think about my shoulder even though it's hurting worse than my back right now.

It suddenly occurs to me that Father is now talking to Kyrano and the two of them are looking about the room. Father is frowning and looking upstairs. Kyrano is shaking his head.

Uh oh.

He's just worked out that Alan and Tin-Tin are missing. It usually takes Dad longer than the rest of us to notice things like that but by the look of him he's sure noticed now.

"Father." I shriek in panic as he turns to head upstairs. "Err… do you have a moment Sir?"

Dad nods and walks back over to stand beside me. His dark blue eyes look directly into mine as they have done on more occasions than I care to remember.

"Yes son?" he asks expectantly and I get the distinct impression by the tone of his voice that if Alan doesn't stop making out with Tin-Tin Kyrano and get his two cent ass down here in the next thirty seconds flat he's going to know about it.

OK ... now I've stalled for time... what do I want to talk to Dad about? I throw him another smile.

"Um … It's a great party Sir." I blurt. "I think Grandma is really enjoying herself."

His eyes wander to the balcony where John is still hugging Grandma. His features change and he smiles fondly at the sight of them. I rarely see that side of my Father but I can see it right now as he watches.

"Yes. Despite Grandma giving everyone a piece of her mind, I think she is secretly enjoying all the attention." he agrees as his eyes dart back towards the stairs.

I'm starting to panic. For God's sake Alan where are you? He's on to you man."

"She hasn't said a word to me yet Sir." I reply, praying that any moment my youngest brother is going to walk through the doorway with a really good excuse as to where he's been.

Father shakes his head and pats my shoulder again and laughs.

"Oh she will son ... don't you worry about that."

I wish he hadn't done that. The pain rears up again and I grimace. Dad doesn't see it. He's focussed on finding Alan.

He's about to go up those stairs. You'd better have the door locked little brother that's all I can say.

I do the only other thing I can do to save Alan's butt. God I hope he hears me up there.

"Fire" I yell on the top of my lungs. "In the kitchen! I think it's your Dinner Kyrano."

Pandemonium now ensues throughout the lounge room.

Dad tears through the lounge and grabs the fire extinguisher in the hall. Kyrano heads straight for the kitchen apologising profusely that he must have turned the food up not down. John runs in from the balcony and almost knocks over Scott and Virgil who are both rushing about trying to find the fire blankets.

I try not to laugh at the scene in front of my eyes. They might all save lives in the most dire and dangerous circumstances, but they absolutely can't cope with a domestic emergency. I turn to look in the direction of the stairs to see if Alan has responded. I don't see Alan anywhere in sight and I sure as heck don't see the stairs. Instead I'm now face to face with someone else. Someone whose eyes are burrowing right through me.

My Grandma.

She's standing right in front of me with her arms folded giving me an icy stare.

"Are you playing one of your practical jokes and trying to ruin my birthday party young man?" she frowns. "Because if you are I am NOT laughing."

I grin nervously. Normally I would be playing a practical joke or two to liven up the proceedings but this time my intentions are totally honourable. I only did it this time trying to save my favourite brother's life.

Speaking of which, despite my valiant effort, there is still no sign of Alan and by the sound of the disgruntled voices in the kitchen, everyone has now worked out there isn't a fire in there either.

"Sorry Ma'am." I say sheepishly. "I guess I accidentally ..."

"Don't you say another word. You never accidentally do anything Gordon Cooper Tracy. "she warns as she goes into the kitchen to see what damage Dad wielding the fire extinguisher has caused to the meal. " I'll deal with YOU later."

Damn, I'm in trouble again and I didn't even get a laugh out of it.

"Oh dear Jeff!" I hear her exclaim. I also hear my Father say far worse than that believe me. By the sounds of it supper isn't looking too good. Boy am I ever in for it now.

"What the hell's going on down here?"

My six foot tall baby brother has taken the stairs two at a time and now strides into the room. Oh, so nice of you to join us Alan! I look at him with a mixture of sheer relief and extreme annoyance.

"Bit of a false alarm." I joke indicating the discarded pin from the fire extinguisher.

"Only a bit? Geez man you yelled loud enough to wake the dead." he exclaims looking towards the kitchen.

If only this kid realised how close he came to being "dead" himself just now. He would have been dead for sure if Dad had walked in on them. That's another one you owe me Alan my eyes warn him. His eyes remind me in return I owe him too.

"What happened anyway?" he asks.

"Nothin' that's what. " I reply and then start to laugh as I look more closely at him. "By the way who taught you how to dress yourself?"

"Grandma did. Why what do you mean asking me that?" he frowns.

"Well for one thing your shirt's buttoned up all wrong and as for the rest of your clothes…if you know what I mean…"

I point discreetly below his waist.

He looks down and reddens as he notices his zipper is undone. While he's dying a thousand deaths, the other half of the combination walks into the room. Oh my word, what a co-incidence. Miss Kyrano has miraculously turned up too.

"Goodness Tin-Tin." I grin. "I was starting to worry about you. I thought you were sick or something since you hadn't come down for the party."

"Err… no … I'm all right Gordon." she stammers looking nervously at my brother from under her long pretty eyelashes. He"ignores" her completely as he rebuttons his shirt. I notice his zipper was fixed up fast but there's no way I'm going to tell Tin-Tin her top button is undone.

These two are so pathetically obvious. I decide to make them squirm for even thinking they are fooling anyone around here, least of all me.

"Gosh it must be windy out on Alan's balcony tonight." I say wryly.

"Why do you say that Gordon?" she asks me.

"Well ... I saw the two of you out there earlier and now your hair is really messed up. Not only that one of your earrings is missing. I was sure you had both on when Alan came in earlier. The wind couldn't have done that though could it? Maybe you lost it somewhere else? "

She reddens too and immediately exits the room, no doubt on her way back to Alan's bedroom to find it.

Alan starts to make excuses and says there is no way his clothing disaster and Tin-Tin's dishevelled state are connected.

Oh no Alan of course not. Why would I think something like that? Afterall you two are "just friends" aren't you?

Just friends? Errr hem ...yeah right!

It's the family joke around here and you probably have already heard from Grandma that no-one enjoys a joke more than I do.

But as I look at my youngest brother and listen to his embarrassed explanation, the pain in my heart escalates to overwhelmingly overtake any pain I feel in my back and shoulders.

This is pain no medication can ease.

I might be the family jokester who keeps everyone on their guard.

I might act like a goofball sometimes as I laugh and kid about.

I might look like I don't have a care in the world.

But don't be fooled.

I'm not like that all the time and especially now as I dwell on the past.

All I can see is the terror on her pretty face a few seconds before the impact.

All I can hear is her one tragic scream.

Everything I lost in those few seconds over two years ago flashes before my eyes.

I lost "her"..

You see, like my brother Alan I was "just friends" with a girl once too. Like Alan I pretended nothing was going on between us.

But unlike Alan's relationship with Tin-Tin Kyrano ; the girl I loved is dead.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

ACCIDENTALLY BORN

The hardest part about being born fourth in a family of five is that I have three older brothers who enjoy nothing more than treating me like a child and a younger one who acts like a child and constantly needs to be looked out for.

Don't get me wrong I'm not complaining about Scott, Virgil and Johnny. They are three terrific big brothers but they have a zero acceptance level of my maturity. I can understand why they don't accept Alan's because he doesn't have any. Alan and I are the kids in the family according to them. We've been the kids since we were babies and they still call us the kids now even though I'm twenty-two and Alan's twenty-one.

I joke and kid about. He whines and demands his own way. Nevertheless the two of us are still considered as Tracy men and willingly stand by our older brothers risking our lives in International Rescue.

I've had a roller coaster of a life up to now; extreme highs to dreadful lows and my four brothers older and younger have been beside me every step of the way.

Riding the roller coaster with me too has been my Grandma. Grandma has loved and cared for me ever since I was a baby and I honestly don't know what I'd do if I didn't have her in my life. She has kept me on the straight and narrow that's for sure with her no-nonsense talk and covert actions.

I like it very much when she starts reminiscing about her courtship with Grandpa and her life on their farm in Kansas. I never got to see the farm but it sounded like life was pretty good there. Farming was a simple and hard life she said but it was rewarding. Grandpa sounded like a tough man and a very hard worker. He was also a thinker according to Grandma. She always refers to Grandpa's insistence that couples should only have one child because of the overpopulation of the world. When she does she invariably looks at Dad then and jokes "unlike some people in this room who forgot to stop at three."

I gathered from her statement that Alan and I weren't actually on Dad's original life agenda back then. I've often asked Grandma if her comment meant Mom and Dad had only planned to have three children. Naturally Grandma refused to give me a straight answer.

"Irrespective of what that Father of yours planned to do in his head, he still ended up with five little boys at the end of it." she replied. "And you, young man have had him on a roller coaster ever since your mother told him you were on the way."

Grandma readily offers family information as long as she feels it won't upset anyone. She's never had any qualms about talking to me about my early life but she never does it in front of Dad. For example, the moment the subject of our mother comes up she always looks carefully about her before saying anything. If Dad's about she doesn't even open her mouth.

She was like that the day she told me about my early arrival into the world. I was sitting at the bench in the kitchen while she was baking cookies and as any growing seventeen year will do, I was eating them as fast as she was making them.

"Gordon!" she exclaimed as my hand reached for the tenth one. "I swear I don't know where you put it all! Now leave off or you won't eat your supper."

"Yes I will ma'am." I said in an indignant voice. "I always eat my supper."

She had to agree with me because she knew it was a fact. I never left anything and always ate what was left of everyone else's.

"Well you're a far cry from that tiny little premature baby who wouldn't feed for your mother and worried her half to death." she pointed out. "I wish she could see you now."

I looked at Grandma waiting for her to continue. She cast a glance over her shoulder towards the hall which led to the lounge room in our New York home.

"The coast is clear Grandma. Dad's in his study reading contracts." I said knowing full well why she was looking nervously about.



Feeling comfortable Grandma began her story about my arrival. She told me Mom was more than a little rattled when I was confirmed. Grandma said she had kept complaining to her over the telephone she had a stomach bug and didn't understand why the heck she couldn't shake it.

"I told her it was because she never had a moment's peace." Grandma said authoritatively. "She was always so busy rushing about with your older brothers. She was raising the three of them all alone back then while your Daddy was goodness knows where building up his business. When she wasn't doing that she was helping him with the paperwork when he came home. No wonder she was unwell all the time."

As Grandma then put it, the penny eventually dropped with Mom that her sick stomach and tiredness might in fact be something else despite her precautions to the contrary. Grandma said Mom made an appointment with the Doctor trying to tell her herself it couldn't possibly be what she feared it was. Unfortunately she was diagnosed with one hell of a stomach bug all right.

Me.

A tiny human being who had been growing unexpectedly inside her for almost thirteen weeks. Her foolproof implant had turned out to be a little less foolproof than she expected.

"So Grandma." I said reaching for another cookie. "Are you saying I was an accident ?"

"No. I'm not. Stop that!" she said slapping my hand away from the food, "You were just a mighty big surprise for a young lady who didn't expect she'd be having anymore Tracy babies."

Grandma doesn't know that I overheard a better version of things last year when Scott and Virgil were reminiscing about their earlier life over a few too many scotches on the balcony. From Scott's version Mom wasn't too happy about the news at all and paced the carpet for hours in front of Dad who didn't know what the hell to say. I know I shouldn't have been listening to my brothers but at least I know the truth. The only thing I didn't appreciate was Virgil's snide remark. "Well you'd pace too if you knew what that kid was going to turn out like!"

Thanks a lot Virgil.

So I might have been a surprise Grandma but let's face it, I was an accident.

My birth sounded like a wild affair and the first downwards ride of the roller coaster. Grandma said she's heard Dad rattled before but never more rattled than he was the day he rang her from New York to say I was about to be delivered by caesarean section in Boston. He had said Mom had fallen badly and was in hospital. I was in serious trouble in utero. The Doctors were telling him they had no choice but to operate. I can't imagine Dad ever getting rattled. Nothing fazes him. He's as cool as a cucumber under any sort of pressure. Not that day according to Grandma. She said he was frightened out of his wits for both Mom and me and kept asking her over and over again to reassure him the two of us would be all right.

Grandma said she told him to calm down and get himself back home.

"He completely forgot about your three brothers in the panic." she said. "Luckily your eldest brother had a decent head on his shoulders despite only being seven years of age."

She then added after the operation I was rushed into intensive care on a respirator and Dad wouldn't let her come to Boston to see me until I was stablised.

"Your Daddy was a might worried young man back then Gordon." she said matter-of-factly. "His family was everything to him and he had trouble coping with the fact you were a tiny defenceless little thing who might not pull though. He'd never had to deal with that before and what with supporting your mother who was in a right royal mess herself, the worry of it all took more out of him than he'll ever care to admit."

She patted my hand. "Still sweetie you managed to pull through just fine and it was rather a great day when I finally came to see you when you were discharged from the hospital."

She then told me of the shock she got when she saw me for the first time. Shock is not a word that does much for your ego I might say.

"Why were you so shocked Grandma?" I asked her with an uncustomary frown on my face. "I hope it was because I so handsome you couldn't believe it."

"No, more like you were so red-headed I couldn't believe it." she laughed. "You could have hit me on the head and got a better reaction the first time I set eyes on you. All your Father could do was laugh at me I was so stunned. He couldn't figure out where that red hair of yours came from and neither could I."

"Gordon." she said to me affectionately. "Your Daddy was the happiest man in the world when you came home and into his life."

"But you said I was a surprise." I said. "And I know surprise is usually your nice word for an accident Grandma."

Grandma shook her head.

"Perhaps. But you were a nice surprise nevertheless and deep down I know that Daddy of yours was mighty happy about it."

"What was I mighty happy about?" came the voice that abruptly ended the conversation. It was Dad who had come out of his study and into the kitchen to fetch himself some coffee. He stopped at the bench and helped himself to a cookie.

"Happy there's any of these left after your son's finished helping me make them that's what." Grandma said hastily.

Subject closed. Grandma didn't talk about Mom or the past in front of Dad ever.

However it wasn't the same for me. I've never been afraid to say what's on my mind or voice my opinion in front of my Father.

"Actually we were talking about my early life Dad." I said firmly fixing my eyes on him. "Grandma was telling me about when I was born and..."

Dad looked at Grandma and then interjected in a disapproving tone.

"Was she just? Well I'd prefer it if you did something more constructive with your time other than engage in useless small talk son. For example there's the homework I know you haven't done." he said. "Now off you go..."

"But Dad..." I began in a disappointed voice.

My informative discussion with my Grandma was cut short as Dad gave me his "look". It meant I wasn't to argue and I had to do as I was told. Dad never had to say much to any of us behaviour-wise back then. He had his cane and it did all the talking, that and his warning eyes. Even now if Dad disapproves of something you know. His eyes harden and darken, his chin lifts and his face looks like thunder.

He looked like that then as he waited for me to obey his instruction.

I sighed and complied.

Sadly like many of Grandma's stories I never got to hear the end of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

ACCIDENTALLY MOTHERLESS

Unlike my older brothers I didn't experience any grief at all when my mother died. Grandma said I cried for her a lot in the first few weeks and Dad had a terrible time of it but it wasn't long before I grew accustomed to the fact that my Mother wasn't going to be there to feed and care for me anymore.

Grandma said I was a cheeky agreeable baby right from the beginning and once I worked out that Dad was able to give me a bottle just the same as Mom could and could bath and change me I stopped making a fuss.

I guess I was the luckiest of the five of us when it comes to dealing with what happened to Mom.

Scott had her the longest and I guess misses her the most. He doesn't discuss matters close to his heart with me or with anyone if the truth is known so it's hard to tell how he really feels.

Virgil had her for five years and like Scott he simply doesn't talk about it. He speaks through his art and his music. You can always tell if he's playing a piece and thinking of her. His whole way of playing changes. I'm no musician but even I can tell.

Johnny only had her for three years but according to Grandma he had her the most of all.

"Your brother John was very attached to your mother." Grandma confided in me and then added quietly. "Too attached for his own good I'm afraid." I guess that's why he still can't go to bed without looking up into the sky and saying a sad goodnight.

Alan never knew her at all not that I remember her either. But Alan's had to come to terms with the fact that when he came into the world our Mother died. He hasn't dealt too well with that over the years.

So as I say, I was the luckiest if that's the right word to use when you're talking about losing a parent.

I don't remember, I don't grieve and I don't have any guilt.

But I do wish I'd have gotten to know her.

Grandma tells me I'm like my Mother in many ways. She says I got my sense of fun from her. Well let's face it, I sure as heck didn't get it from my Father! Dad's known to have a good laugh every now and then and I'm usually the one to give it to him but he doesn't laugh often. Grandma says when Mom was alive he laughed all the time. I simply can't imagine that.

"It's true child. That little lady brought your Father out of himself." she told me. "She was always telling him he was too serious about life for his own good."

Funny that. I've said that to Dad on more than one occasion too.

Grandma says I'm also stubborn and determined like my mother. I don't see myself as stubborn but I guess you could say I have been known to be determined about things in my time. Like when I stood up to Dad after High School when I wanted to join World Aquanaut Security Patrol. I refused to back down no matter what Dad said and Grandma reiterated to him that was exactly what Mom was like when she felt strongly enough about something. Grandma then pointed out I have always been a determined person and reminded me of when I was five years old.

The year I started in the first grade and discovered I didn't have a mother.

"You were so determined to find out why." Grandma said. "And you weren't going to stop until you knew."

Grandma didn't have to remind me. I still remember that dreadful shock even now. It is my first childhood memory.

Personally I think it was a bit rough that I was allowed to get all the way to Grade school believing a normal family consisted of a Grandma who amongst other things looked after the children and a Father who worked incessantly around the clock.

I also thought all families had big brothers like my brother Scott who took the time to play with me, made sure I went to the bathroom before bed and helped to dress me in the mornings. That perception was all about to change as I ventured out of the safety of our Boston home and into the first grade at Parkhurst Elementary School.

Dad was away from home when I started my first day of school so it was Scott who had to dress me in my uniform and walk me to the gates of the big public school. It was Scott who asked me if I was okay to go into my classroom by myself. It was Scott who placed a reassuring arm around my heaving shoulders when I started crying and said I couldn't do it. It was Scott who introduced me to my first grade teacher.

"My Father is away from home ma'am." he explained to Miss Forbes. "And my Grandma has an appointment this morning. Do you want me to stay with my brother?"

Miss Forbes took one look at my tear stained face and how I clutched my bag anxiously and remarked to Scott it would be better if he stayed.

Scott did.

He was not quite thirteen at the time and was going to be late for school himself but he didn't leave me until I had stopped crying and was playing happily with the other children.

On the third day of school Dad returned from Japan after being there on business for over two weeks. I had been asleep when he arrived home the night before and my face lit up with pure joy when I came down to breakfast and saw him sitting at the table reading his newspaper and sipping his coffee.

"Daddy!" I exclaimed bouncing down the rest of the stairs and scurrying straight up into his lap.

"Hi sport!" he smiled putting the paper down to give me his full attention. "Mind the coffee huh."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt his tighten around me. I hugged him tight and kissed his cheek.

"I'm so glad you're back Daddy." I said looking up at his newly shaven face. "I missed you."

"I'm glad to be back too Gordon." he replied. "I missed you and your brothers very much."

"Gordon started school on Monday Jeff." Grandma said bringing in Dad's breakfast and a pot of fresh coffee.

Dad's face fell a bit. He'd obviously forgotten that milestone in my life was about to occur. Nevertheless he tousled my hair and acted as if it didn't bother him.

"So do you like school son?" he asked motioning me to sit in the chair next to him as Grandma passed me my toast and fruit juice.

"Yes Daddy." I enthused. I hesitated for a moment and then continued. "Only …"

"Only what?" he asked as he buttered his own toast and indicated mine. "You want me to do that for you?"

"Yes thank you Daddy." I nodded.

"Now what were you saying?" he said as he handed me back the plate.

"Daddy…" I began.

'DADDY! DADDY! DADDYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"

Alan had discovered Dad was home.

He tore down the stairs at one hundred miles an hour, jumped straight into Dad's lap, knocking the freshly brewed coffee all over Dad's newspaper, his breakfast and the table.

"Alan!" Grandma and Dad shrieked in unison but at four years of age Alan didn't care. He threw his arms around Dad and looked at him with his big baby blue eyes.

"I missed you so much Daddy." he exclaimed sincerely. "Did you miss me?"

Dad went to scold him but couldn't find it in his heart to do it.

"Yes I did Alan but I sure as heck didn't miss this son." he said in an unimpressed voice as he indicated the mess on the table.

Alan's face fell instantly when he realised what he had done.

"I'm real sorry Daddy." he said his eyes filling with tears. "I didn't mean to do it. I just wanted to hug you for a bit that's all."

Dad smiled and laid a reassuring hand on Alan's shoulder.

"No harm done I suppose Alan. Come on you'd better help me clean this mess up before Grandma busts a nut at you."

He stood up and held out his hand for Alan to take. Together they went into the kitchen to find some paper towels to clean up the mess. That was Alan all right. He didn't care if he was in trouble or not. As long as he had Dad's full attention he was happy and as usual he had managed to get it .

I sighed and ate my breakfast in silence. I never got to tell Dad what was really on my mind.

You see when I started school I watched everything around me very closely. I particularly watched the other children in my class. They were always brought to school by women who were much younger than Grandma and every single one of them was called "mommy".

These mommies were pretty full on I might tell you. They fussed and cried and hugged their kids over and over before they left them in the classroom in the mornings and they congregated like a human army at the school gate in the afternoons. Once they saw their kids they fussed and cried and hugged them all over again.

I wanted to ask my Father that morning what a mommy was actually good for, not that I wanted one with the way these ladies carried on. However I didn't get the opportunity thanks to Alan.

I decided I would ask him that afternoon. He promised Alan and me that he would play ball with us when I got home from school and I knew he'd be able to tell me about these strange ladies if I asked him. Back then, I worshipped my Father. He was the God who knew everything. Imagine my disappointment when I arrived home to find that Dad had been called unexpectedly to New York and wouldn't be coming home again for several days.

"How long this time Grandma?" I asked unhappily looking in the direction of the empty garage where Dad kept his Ferrari.

"I don't know how long he'll be gone this time sweetie." she said. She looked at my despondent face and soothed. "I'm sorry but Daddy wasn't any happier about him going away than you are."

Well that was the end of asking Dad the question and it was Scott who had to pacify us by playing ball until suppertime.

I continued to observe these mommies each day and the more I watched them, the more they bothered me. I began to suspect something wasn't quite right in our family structure.

All was revealed two days later when I sat in the playground at lunchtime. The first graders had their own area to segregate them from the rest of the school and the routine was we all ate before play. We sat on the benches eating our lunch.

"What did your mommy make you today?" my friend Tom asked me peering at my lunchbox.

"Grandma made these for me." I said showing him the crackers and fruit I had.

"How come your Grandma made them?" Tom asked as he busily unwrapped his sandwich. "Where's your mommy?"

"I don't I have one." I said honestly.

"Yes you do." he said matter-of-factly. "Everybody has a mommy."

"Do they?" I asked in amazement.

"Uh huh. You got a Daddy don't you?"

I nodded. "Yes." I replied. "I have a Daddy but he's not home very much even on the weekends."

"Well you have to have a mommy then. Daddies and mommies go together." Tom said.

I sat in silence trying to absorb the information.

"I have my Grandma." I offered hoping that a Grandma was the same thing.

"I have two Grandmas" he said. "One is my Daddy's mom and the other one is my mommy's mom. She lives a long way from here."

It suddenly twigged now why Dad called Grandma "mom." when he wanted her for something. I frowned. Where was my mommy then and why did I have only one Grandma when Tom had two?

It bothered me so badly I couldn't eat my lunch at all and Tom ended up happily munching on the crackers and fruit instead of his soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I sat next to Virgil on the way home from school in complete silence. It was the end of the first week and Virgil and John were busily planning what they were going to do together on the weekend.

"What are you going to get up to Gordie?" Virgil asked trying to bring me into the discussion.

When I didn't reply he gave me a worried look.

"What's wrong?" he asked slipping his arm around me as I continued to look out the window of the school bus.

"Nothin'." I said distantly.

Virgil squeezed me a bit tighter. He loved playing the oldest brother now that Scott was in Junior High School.

You sure?" he asked sounding terribly like Scott.

I looked into his deep brown eyes and said glumly. "Yes."

"Well if its nothin' why are you acting like that for?" John demanded from the seat behind us.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like you're upset or somethin'." he observed.

"I'm not upset." I replied.

When we got home Alan greeted us at the front door. He hated the fact that I was now at school and he was stuck at home with Grandma all day. Normally within ten minutes of arriving home we were messing about together in the garden but not today. In response to his enthusiastic welcome all he got from me was a brief hello before I brushed straight past him on my way up to the bedroom we both shared on the second story.

Once there I took off my shoes, climbed up on my bed and lay down.

Naturally Grandma was in the room in an instant taking my temperature and fussing around.

"You not well little one?" she asked shoving a thermometer in my mouth. It's hard to reply with one of those things under your tongue so I remained silent. She read the thermometer and shrugged.

"Hmmmm. You seem well enough." she observed placing her hand on my forehead. She looked at me worriedly.

"Are you feeling all right sweetie?" she enquired.

"Yes Grandma." I replied but with a sadness in my voice she detected immediately.

"Someone giving you hassle child?" she frowned.

"No Grandma"

She watched me a while longer before assuming as she always did that I must be simply tired after having to go to school for a whole week straight.

"Well. I'll keep you some chocolate cake for after supper." she said. "That is of course if your brothers have left you any." she added looking at Alan who was standing next to her with cake crumbs all around his mouth. She laughed before bending down to wipe his face with a tissue she took from the dresser. Alan squirmed and screwed up his face.

"Aww Grandma." he complained. "Don't."

Grandma left the room as Alan climbed up on my bed to be next to me. She somehow knew Alan would cheer me up. The two of us were very close and school was the first time the two of us had ever been separated. Grandma knew I missed him as much as he missed me.

Dad used to say sometimes it was hard for him to believe we were brothers born less than thirteen months apart. He imagined I guess we would be very similar because of our closeness in age. Admittedly Alan was the same size as me but he certainly looked and acted completely the opposite. I was red haired, brown eyed, level headed and calculating. He was blonde, blue eyed, fiery and impulsive. Yet the two of us got on famously.

Today however I didn't want to have anything to do with my little brother and he was becoming worried.

"Gordie… are you sick?" he asked me in a troubled voice as he eyed the thermometer on the dresser.

"No." I said.

His face brightened. "Wanna play some ball with me then?"

"No." I replied turning on my side to face the wall.

"Why?" he pouted and leaned over me. "You said you weren't sick and I've waited to play all day."

I lay silently for a while and then turned back to him fixing my eyes on his.

"Alan do you know where our mommy is?"

Alan looked at me like I had two heads.

"What's a mommy Gordie?" he asked.

"It's a lady who goes with a Daddy." I explained sharing the wealth of my newly acquired wisdom.

He tilted his head to one side as he always does when he's thinking about something and doesn't quite understand it.

"Our Daddy doesn't have a lady." he finally replied looking confused. "Except Grandma."

"That's what I said to Tommy but he said Daddy does. He said Daddies and mommies go together." I said.

"Maybe he keeps her at work." Alan offered. "That's where he is most times."

I got off the bed and strode determinedly to the door. "I'm going to ask Johnny where our mommy is. He'll know."

As usual Alan tried to tag along but even at age five I knew better than to take him with me to see John. John wasn't very fond of Alan and I knew it. I didn't know why but I could just tell by the way spoke and acted whenever Alan was around. Luckily Grandma, armed with the scissors called him to come to her.

"Don't say anything to Grandma." I warned him as he grumbled and complained at the prospect of having his blonde curls trimmed in the back garden.

"OK." he agreed. "But you'll tell me what Johnny says right?"

I nodded. The two of us had no secrets from each other back then and we still don't now. "Don't worry. I'll tell you."

I ventured down the Hall to Grandma's sewing room where John lay sprawled out on the floor with Dad's old astronomy charts spread out all around him.

"They're Daddy's" I said to him from the door much to his annoyance.

"Dad said I could look at them." he snapped without looking up. I wondered if at eight years old John knew what the heck he was looking at as he pored over the charts with wonder all over his face.

"You feeling OK now?" he enquired, finally lifting his face to mine.

"Yes." I replied.

"Well what do you want then?" he asked knowing full well I rarely bothered him for anything and wouldn't be standing there for nothing..

"Johnny..." I began. "Do you know where mommy is?"

To this day I regret uttering those words to my middle brother. I have never seen John get quite so upset about anything as he did that day. His blue eyes filled with tears, his bottom lip trembled and before I knew it he had broken into loud and uncontrollable sobs. I gazed at him with fright. I hadn't meant to upset my brother but he sure was upset all right. He fled down the hall to the security of his bedroom and slammed the door shut.

I began to worry now. Something was clearly wrong.

I went back downstairs and paused at the door. There was Grandma trying to cut Alan's hair while he writhed and moaned. I knew it would be easier to ask Grandma about this but after John's reaction I was afraid I might upset her too. And we all knew better than to upset Grandma. If any of us ever upset her Dad got mighty mad.

I looked in the direction of Dad's study. Scott was allowed in there to do his homework now that he was in Junior High school. I bit my lip and debated whether to ask him. As I grappled with the decision Virgil walked past me on his way to the kitchen. I decided to ask him instead.

Virgil was a level headed easy going ten year old. He'd give me a straight answer if anyone would. I approached him as he poured himself a glass of milk from the refrigerator.

"Hey are you feeling OK now Gordie?" he asked looking down at me.

I nodded and he smiled and said "That's good."

"Virgie…" I began. "Where's our mommy?"

Virgil paused for a few moments as he closed the refrigerator.

"Gordie we don't have a mommy anymore." he said sadly.

I proceeded to ask him why and it became obvious immediately that he was starting to get upset too.

"Cos we don't." he replied tersely. "If you wanna know why ask Scott about it not me."

Well it was down to Scott and I was terribly in awe of my eldest brother and I sure didn't want to upset him. However, this was beginning to gnaw at me. I only wanted to know the truth about things. Thanks to Virgil I now knew we used to have a mother but I still had no answer as to where she was at the moment and why she had gone away without taking us.

I stood at the entrance to Dad's study for ages watching Scott chewing on his pencil trying to figure out his Math homework. Suddenly he let fly using expletives I'd never heard him use before. He must have learned those sorts of words in Junior High because we sure weren't allowed to use them in our house. I knew Grandma would wash his mouth out with soap if she heard him and he must have been worried that she did because he looked towards the door.

He saw me instead.

His face took on a dismayed look when he realised I had heard him.

"Don't you say anything to Grandma." he warned fixing his authoritative eyes on mine. They were so like Dad's. "I mean it." he added.

I shook my head. I would never dare to tell on any of my brothers no matter what they did.

I was too busy marvelling at his impending adolescence to worry anyway. My big brother had grown rapidly over the vacation and was starting to change into a man. All of my brothers were watching the changes in him carefully. His half broken voice particularly fascinated us.

"What's wrong with you anyway squirt?" he asked as I continued to stare at him.

I swallowed and said I wanted to ask him something. He went to dismiss me and return to his Math homework until I said it didn't matter and I would ask Dad. He instantly gave me his undivided attention. No doubt he was worried I would mention the swearing at the same time. He asked me what I needed to know. When I told him his face clouded.

After a few moments he called me to come over to him and he put his arms around me. He told me as gently as he could that we used to have a mother but she died when I was very small.

Naturally when your favourite word is "why" the inevitable question followed. His answer of "she just did." was bad enough but when he added "now don't ask about her anymore all right?" I became even more frustrated. Why couldn't I ask about her? I asked him if Dad knew why our mother died. I shouldn't have said that let me tell you.

Scott's face became anxious. He was terribly protective of Dad and even more protective of us. He told me in no certain terms that whatever I did I wasn't to mention "mommy" to Dad.

"Dad doesn't like talking about her and he'll just get mad at you. Promise me Gordie…promise me you won't ask him."

I nodded recognising he meant what he said. As I went to leave the room he gave me the look of command he possessed even back then. I wished I'd been old enough to recognise it.

After supper Grandma put Alan and me to bed early saying we were both tired. Alan as usual resisted but Grandma said firmly if I was tired he was tired and that was that.

"What did you have to go and be tired for?" he complained as the two of us lay next to each other in my bed. "I wanted to watch television."

"I wasn't tired." I said defensively. "Grandma just thinks I am."

The two of us lay together in Alan's bed talking. Naturally the subject of our newly discovered loss came up.

"Scott told me we had a mommy once." I told Alan. "but he said that she died."

Alan's perception of death was the demise that week of our elderly neighbour who had passed away after a lengthy illness. Before I started school the two of us used to accompany Grandma whenever she took him a meal or went to check on him. Alan had attended his funeral with Grandma the day before and hence his anxiousness earlier in the afternoon when he thought I was sick too.

"Was our mommy sick like Mr. Rogers?" he asked.

"I dunno but Scott said we aren't allowed to talk about her to Daddy else he'll get mad."

Neither of us wanted to risk making our Father mad. He very rarely got angry at anything but when he did we didn't want to be the ones he was angry at that's for sure.

Our conversation went no further that night. Grandma was right. The two of us were tired and we both fell asleep next to each other not long after.

But the scene had been set. The babies of the house now knew the truth. We knew our family wasn't like everyone else's and our Father didn't want to talk about why.

Not telling me something when I want to know about it was a recipe for disaster.

Two days later Dad came home.

We were having supper in the dining room when his Ferrari roared into the drive. After a few minutes we heard the car door slam. There were no smiles of greeting this time as Dad came through the door in his black business suit, tired, grumpy and disillusioned. He threw his briefcase on the couch and began to loosen his tie as he strode into the dining room.

"I think you need to get some decent sleep Jeff." Grandma said to him as he sat down at the head of the table and in one breath proceeded to admonish Scott for not wearing an ironed shirt, Virgil for not combing his hair, John for having his elbows on the table, me for holding my knife and fork wrong and Alan for using his fingers.

"You're supposed to be Tracy sons." he snapped glaring around the table. "It's bad enough I have to be away from home all the time without the five of you doing whatever you damn well please the moment I'm gone."

After Grandma's comment about him needing sleep attracted no response she looked at him and retorted.

"Well by the way you're acting like a bear with a sore head I think it would be a fair bet for me to say things didn't go too well for you in New York."

He looked over at her.

"No mother." he seethed. "No things did not go well if you must know."

Nothing else was said after that and we all sat around the table in silence. That is of course until yours truly with no sense of danger and no understanding of what constitutes bad timing decided that this was the opportune time to ask my Father if it was true what Scott had told me about my mother dying.

I thought Scott was going to expire when the words left my mouth. His face went deathly white and his eyes flew to mine in complete disbelief. I saw Dad glare at him before he turned his attention to me.

"Yes it's true that your Mother died." he snapped. "Now forget about it please and eat your supper."

He looked at Scott again, sighed miserably and hung his head.

"Why did Mommy die Daddy?" I asked innocently not taking my eyes off him. "Was she sick?"

Dad's eyes remained fixed on the table. "I SAID eat your supper Gordon." he thundered dangerously.

His tone said it all. End of discussion.

I did notice however it wasn't the end of the matter as far as Dad was concerned. He called Scott back after supper and spoke with him in his study for over half an hour afterwards. When Scott came out his lips were trembling and he strode straight to his room and closed the door. He took one look at me on the way and shook his head. He'd asked me not to say anything and now Dad, tired and disenchanted from a difficult time in New York had bawled him out.

Virgil called me into the room he and John shared not long after. He and Scott were very close and it didn't sit to well with him that Scott had been blamed for what had happened over dinner.

"Scott got into a lot of trouble with Dad just now because he told you about Mom dying." he said as he towered over me. "Gordie you promised Scott you wouldn't say anything about mommy and the very first thing you did when Dad came home was open your big mouth."

"I forgot I promised." I said feeling bad. "I only wanted to know why mommy died."



"We're not supposed to talk about Mommy dying. You understand?"

I shook my head. No I didn't understand but I promised I wouldn't mention her anymore.

"You better not." he warned. "Scott's real upset that Dad's mad at him and it's all your fault."

My eyes filled. The thought of my big brother in trouble because of me made me feel terrible. I had seen Scott come out of the study. I knew his lips wouldn't be trembling for nothing.

"I'm sorry Virgil." I said. "I didn't mean for Daddy to go mad at Scott."

"Yeah well he did so you better not talk about mommy again you got that?"

My head moved up and down woodenly. I was in big trouble if the tone of his voice was anything to go by.

"Yes Virgil." I replied.

"Now go and say goodnight to Grandma. I'm gonna try to cheer Scott up."

As I walked down the hall I hung my head. I simply didn't understand. What was the big deal about my mother?

Despite Virgil's warning I couldn't help myself. Grandma's right. I do have a determined streak and I was determined to find out more about my mother.

There was now only one person left to ask, the person I probably should have asked in the first place and saved everyone a lot of grief.

Grandma.

It took me a few weeks to find the courage to raise the issue and the question was sparked by the fact that even though I wasn't allowed to ask about my mother I looked about the house trying to locate some pictures of her. There were none to be had. There were pictures of Dad in the Air Force and walking on the moon. There were pictures of Grandma and Grandpa and the old farmhouse in Kansas. There were baby photographs of me and my brothers. But there were no pictures of my mother.

I wanted Grandma to tell me why but had learnt very early in my life that when I wanted to deal with Grandma I had to pick the right moment to do so. If I did, I got the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and in most cases "so help me God."

Grandma tells it like it is with no holes barred. Like it or lump it, that's the way she is.

The right moment came one Saturday afternoon as she scurried into our room to put the laundry away. Dad had just left for New York again and she had sent Alan and me upstairs to take a nap. You guessed it. She said we were "tired" again because the two of us had argued loudly over a toy car the moment Dad had said goodbye and backed out of the drive. She was now busily catching up on the household chores and enjoying the peace and quiet.

Alan had gone to sleep and I was laying there silently reading a book when she appeared. She smiled at me as she put our clothing in the dresser and placed the "offending" car she had confiscated on top of it.

"Don't you even think about it." she warned as I eyed the car and then my sleeping brother.

Grandma could read me like a book. I looked at her and gave her a grin knowing I had been suitably admonished.

After a few moments I asked her carefully. "Grandma. Do you remember my mommy?"

She knew Dad wasn't home so her face didn't grow anxious like it had the night I asked about her at the dinner table. She replied yes she did remember my mother. That was all she said. It was obvious, like Scott, she was only going to tell me what I needed to know.

So then I asked Grandma straight out why my mother had died. Grandma looked dismayed at my forthrightness but told me God had called her to heaven when I was thirteen months old.

I knew who God was but for the life of me I didn't understand why my mother would want to go to heaven just because he called her there. Grandma's face became momentarily sad when she explained God only called the special mothers to heaven and my mother had been very special not just to us but to Dad too. She then added she had been more than very special to my Father. She had been everything.

I pondered on that statement for a while. Even at five years old I figured if Mom was that special to Dad he would at least want to talk about her. It also stood to reason there would be lots of pictures of her about the house.

I asked Grandma if my mother had loved me like she did. She nodded and said my mother had loved me even more than she did. I knew how much Grandma loved me and how much I loved Grandma so it was pretty awe-inspiring to think that my mother could have felt even stronger than that. But if she had, why did she go to heaven when she was called? Why didn't she stay here with us?

Grandma said that was the sad part. Once God called you, you didn't have the right of reply and even though Dad needed her here with us, she had no choice but to go and be with him. Grandma said that's why she left the farm and came to live in Boston.

"Daddy was very upset when Mommy died." she said. "And he needed Grandma's help to care for you and your brothers. He still needs her while he works hard to provide for you all."

That was a reasonable explanation of what had happened I guess but it raised another rather frightening possibility. If God could take my mother away, couldn't he just as easily take Grandma away too?

She shook her head and told me in no uncertain terms that God wasn't game enough to do that. Her voice had a really menacing tone to it when she said it too. I remember thinking if I was God I sure as heck wouldn't be messing with Grandma.

Well at least I knew the full story now. I knew I once had a mother but she had been called to heaven. I knew Grandma had come to help Dad care for us when she died. I knew Dad had been very upset when she died because she had been everything to him. It all started to make sense. I also knew without being told that Dad always kept his feelings to himself. As a result of all this I guessed that's why we weren't allowed to talk about her to him.

But one thing still plagued me. I wanted to know what she looked like. It was the last piece of the puzzle.

When I asked Grandma if Mom had been pretty like her, she led me down the hall towards Dad's bedroom. I hesitated at the door. We had been told emphatically by Dad that his room was "off limits" to all of us other than when the discipline was expended. Discipline aside, it was the one place he went for a bit of peace and quiet. It was also the one place he was able to be alone and feel free to grieve in private.

Grandma took my hand and led me inside making me promise not to tell anyone about what she was about to show me.

"That includes your little brother." she said. "It's obvious you can't keep a secret too good young man, so I'm putting you on your honour this time."

I promised her faithfully I wouldn't say anything. She looked at me and warned.

"Promising Scott and letting him down is one thing. Promising Grandma is another. Daddy will be very unhappy with Grandma if he knows I'm showing you this."

She slowly handed me a framed picture she had taken from the bottom of Dad's private drawer. The picture was of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. Grandma told me the young woman in the picture was my mother. I gazed at it for ages before commenting to Grandma that she looked exactly like Virgil. Grandma agreed. I took in every detail of her features, noting her cheeky smile and mischievous eyes; the very things I had inherited. .

"She's so beautiful Grandma." I whispered.

"Yes she was. "Grandma said sadly. "She was the most precious sweet little girl in the world and she deserves better than to be hidden away like this and forced to be forgotten by the people she loved the most."

I continued to stare at the picture, unable to take my eyes off it. There was something about her ... something that stirred a strange feeling within me ... something that told me ... I was destined to be with her.

The first warning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

ACCIDENTALLY FAMOUS IN THE WATER

I think it's fair to say I proved myself to be pretty competent in the water over the years. Let's face it you don't end up being much of an Aquanaut if you can't swim.

Dad has never been able to understand how any son of his could have developed such a passion for the water when flight and outer space figure so high in his priorities. I guess it's the same reason I was born into this famaily with red hair.

I'm just different.



Grandma says I adored being in the water even as a baby and unlike my brothers who used to cry miserably when they were put into the bath, I cried incessantly when I was taken out of it.

Grandma taught me to swim when I was young and I loved going to the local pool with my brothers. I'm a very competitive person and as any annoying seven year old brother tends to do, I boasted I could beat all of my brothers in a swimming race if they cared to try me on.

"Come on then." ten year old Johnny dared me one afternoon. "Prove it!"

John was a very competent swimmer too and on top of that liked nothing better than to put me in my place. I readily snapped at the chance and thoroughly enjoyed telling Grandma over supper that I had convincingly "kicked his butt."

"That's enough of your uncouth talk young man." Grandma admonished me. "Your Father wouldn't tolerate you saying that if he was home and you know it."

"Is that true Johnny?" fifteen year old Scott asked in surprise. "You let a squirt like him beat you?"

Before an agitated John could reply I fixed my eyes on my eldest brother and laid down the challenge.

"I could beat you too Scott 'cept you're too chicken to race me."

Scott rolled his eyes. He was in the High School Swimming team and had broken every age record in swimming right through elementary school and Junior High.

"You won't beat him Scott." John said. "He's real fast."

Hey tell this little red head something he didn't know! My arrogance, coupled with John's warning was enough for Scott.

"I don't race amateurs." he scoffed. "Especially midgets like you."

The first year I was eligible to swim in the elementary school carnival was in the fifth grade. I had a bad virus that day and Grandma wisely kept me home from school. Subsequently I was not identified for the school team. On the day of the inter-school carnival one of boys selected succumbed to the same virus I'd had. The PT Teacher ran around in a flap. Who the heck in the fifth grade was able to swim the 200 metres butterfly?

"Excuse me Mr. Carmichael." I said. "I can do it."

"You sure?" he frowned.

"Yes Sir." I said. "I swim it all the time."

"OK then" he frowned. "You're in."

Well the rest is history I guess. I won the 200 metres by nearly a full pool length and broke the age record for the distance in the process. Whose record did I break? None other than that set by a young Scott Carpenter Tracy several years before. Scott eyed me with distaste as I showed Dad my gold medal and recounted the race.

"You think you're pretty good don't you?" he asked contemptuously.

"Yes I do." I replied, my head full of my own importance. "I'm faster than you were."

Scott cast a disapproving eye in my direction.

"I'd watch it if I were you squirt." he warned. "You're biting off more than you can chew with me."

"Now boys it's only a race." Dad said in a bored tone before he smiled and tried to appear interested in my achievement. He said absently. "I'm glad you won the gold medal son. That's very good."

Two days later the telephone rang and for once Dad was home to answer it. We were eating supper at the time and all of us, especially me, pricked up our ears at the mention of my name.

"Yes I'm Jeff Tracy." Dad said.

"Yes young Gordon is my son." Dad said.

"No." Dad said.

"Yes." Dad said.

"I don't think so." Dad said.

"I'll think about it." Dad said.

He put down the receiver and returned to the table.

Grandma looked at him expectantly.

"What was all that about then Jeff?" she asked.

Dad looked at her and then at me.

"That was Gordon's PT Teacher about that note you gave me last week. He really thinks Gordon shows some potential as a swimmer. He wants him to train in the school squad."

I grinned from ear to ear and immediately looked over at Scott. Scott was conveniently ignoring me.

"Can I Dad?" I asked excitedly. "Please?"

Dad looked doubtful but he had already told me earlier that month I couldn't learn to dive until I was sixteen years old. Dad was very level headed and always mindful of saying yes or no too often.

"All right." he agreed. "You can train."

I absolutely adored the training. I was the youngest and smallest in the elementary school squad and I was always trying to prove my worth. One afternoon one of the seventh graders made a comment about the fact that I was only in the squad because my Father was Jeff Tracy the billionaire.

"No I'm not." I said. "It's because I can swim fast."

In response to his "yeah right" look I decided I would pace myself against this kid and try to show him I was in the squad because of my speed, not my Father's money.

When I finished the 800 metre training block I looked about with satisfaction to see I had lapped him in the process. "Well well.." I thought as I hauled myself out of the pool." Now who shouldn't be in the squad?"

"Gordon." my PT Teacher said calling me over to him.

"Yes Sir?" I asked.

"I want you to know you've just broken the Under 16 National Record for 800 metres son."

"Is that good Sir?" I asked still worried about my worth.

"Yes son. That's very good.I think it's about time we arranged to get you some proper coaching."

Well the telephone rang again and luckily Dad was home to take the call a second time.

"Yes I'm Jeff Tracy." Dad said.

"Yes young Gordon is my son." Dad said.

"No." Dad said.

"Yes." Dad said.

"I don't think so." Dad said.

"I'll think about it." Dad said.

As it turned out the call was from the head coach of the State Development Squad, a squad established to identify young talent and nurture it to Olympic Level. My PT Teacher had called him and told him of my achievements.

He wanted Dad to allow me to train with the State Junior Squad. I had just turned eleven years of age.

Dad sat down with Grandma and had a very big discussion about this one. The squad trained on the other side of Boston and it meant I had to be driven there in the mornings and again in the afternoons. To most families this would not present a problem but to Dad it was a hassle he didn't need. Time was of the essence to him and he quite frankly didn't have time to be driving me across Boston twice a day to humour some over the top State swimming coach.

"Well." Grandma said. "I can do it in the afternoons Jeff if you'll do it in the mornings when you're home."

"But Mother..." he began.

"No buts" she said. "If the boy has talent we should foster it and let's face it the child must have something if he can break an under 16 record at eleven years of age."

"I suppose so." Dad grumbled. "But mother I might tell you this is mighty inconvenient to a man in business you know."

Hence my training at State Level commenced and Dad suffered in silence as we set out every morning at 4.30am to drive to the pool on the other side of town. Grandma did it when Dad was away on business and then turned around and did it all again in the afternoons. I thrived under the coaching I received and my times improved drastically. I had now progressed to swimming at Interstate meets and winning.

At twelve years of age my name quite often appeared in the newspaper after I had broken yet another record. Dad shook his head. All this training was one thing, my life being turned upside down was another.

"This is not normal." he thundered one morning as we drove home from training. "You're twelve years old Gordon … far too young to be receiving the amount of publicity you are and far too young to be spending four hours a day swimming up and down a blasted swimming pool."

I didn't look at him but he was looking at me.

"And …" he added. "spending six hours a day in the car travelling backwards and forwards from training."

"I don't mind Dad." I offered as I reached forward to find the English book I was required to have read that day.

"Well I do." he said. "Look at you. You eat your breakfast in the car, you do your homework in the car.Lord knows you'll be sleeping and showering in the car soon if that Coach has his way."

I sat there meekly allowing him to let off steam.

No … I've made up my mind…" he said firmly. "I'm only prepared to allow you to train once a day son … that's all. Plus you'll only compete in the larger swim meets. If that Coach of yours doesn't like it well that's too bad. That's the way it's going to be."

"But Dad …" I complained.

"Don't give me any of your "but Dad" talk." he replied looking straight ahead. "It's for your own good."

I was really disappointed and I can tell you there were a lot of people and not just my coach who weren't too happy about Dad's decision either. Grandma had more than enough to say about it, accusing him of being more concerned with nurturing his business than nurturing his son's obvious talent. Dad however stood firm. He usually does when he makes a decision and he told Grandma straight his decision was not to make life easier for him but to give my life some sort of balance.

"Well while you're so busy balancing your son's life why don't you take some time out to have a darned good look at your own." she retorted.

Dad was still working up to twenty hours a day, seven days a week in his business. He took no vacations, no days off and had very little sleep. Grandma was worried sick he was going to work himself to death not to mention that fact that his "little boys" as she called us were growing up right in front of his eyes and he was far too busy to notice.

Grandma said he only worked like he did to forget our Mother and all I can say about that is after eleven years of trying you'd think he might have figured out it wasn't working too well. Every now and then he would let his guard down and allow himself to remember, particularly when one of us did something that reminded him of her. However the pain was too much. You could tell because his eyes would cloud over and fill. Then he would shake his head awkwardly and stride from the room muttering there were financial records to be checked or plans to patent.

Anyway my life now had the balance Dad said it needed but I was missing half the training and most of the swim meets. I felt I had to try harder than ever whenever I was in the water.Strangely enough with this attitude I continued to improve and whenever Dad did allow me to compete I won easily. At fourteen my coach decided to enter me in an Adult race. I won that too.

"Hey you're famous Gordie!" Alan exclaimed in his half broken voice as he read about me in the sports section of Dad's newspaper the following morning. "It says here you are the most exciting young talent in America."

I swallowed my fruit juice and shrugged.

"It was just a race to me." I said. "It didn't count for anything."

Alan frowned at my lack of enthusiasm when he himself was so excited. He returned to the paper and read further before adding.

"Yeah but it says here you might be fast enough to go to the Olympics one day."

I grinned at that observation particularly as it had been made by a high-ranking swimming selector. That pleased me.

"Well right now why don't the two of you just stop dreaming and eat your breakfast." Dad interrupted as he took the paper off Alan. "Your brother isn't going to the Olympics so forget it. That sort of representation is a long way off and even if it wasn't, like you Alan, Gordon has an education to worry about."

"He might just get there you know Jeff." Grandma said from the other end of the table. "He's not swimming far outside the Olympic qualifying time."

"His Mother would not have wanted him to be exposed to that sort of thing." Dad snapped, mentioning my mother's name for the very first time in my presence. "Like me, she wanted our sons to be normal and not subjected to the sort of publicity I was. It's invasive and you know as well as I do how many photographs were taken of Lucy and me before I walked on the moon. She hated it and I hated it. Both of us were adamant our sons were going to be kept out of the limelight and so far that's what I've succeeded in doing."

"Well it's not your achievements that have put your son in the limelight I'm afraid. It's his own." Grandma said indicating the colour photograph of me on the back page of the paper with the caption. "Watch me Dad, I can fly too."

"Damned stupid nonsense." Dad muttered as he prepared to bury himself in the financial section. "The kid doesn't even like flying."

Grandma removed her glasses and said bluntly. "Before you immerse yourself in matters dear to your heart and by that I mean the stock market not your son's achievements, I would simply like to say one thing to you Jefferson Grant Tracy."

Dad glared at her from where he sat.

"And what's that mother?"

"Your second youngest boy has a real talent and he's been set a course to run with it. You might not want him to but rest assured he will. And he will because that young lady of yours is up there looking over him. If you think for one minute Lucille would not have wanted her son to represent his country you didn't know her very well. You mark my words, she'll see to it that he gets there one way or another."

Strangely enough she did.

The day I was selected for the Olympic team would have been Mom's forty eighth birthday. Grandma told Dad it was an omen as I broke the Olympic record for the 200 metres butterfly by 0.48 of a second.

Then at sixteen years of age I won my first and only Olympic Gold Medal.

I stood on the podium to receive my medal on Saturday March 12 the following year as my Father, Grandmother and brothers watched proudly from the stands.

March 12 was Alan's fifteenth birthday. It was also the fifteenth anniversary of our mother's death.

I broke the Olympic record by 0.15 seconds.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

ACCIDENTAL HAPPENINGS

Now, I've told you I inherited a few things from my Mother, one in particular that has caused a lot of unrest in this house ... my sense of humour and in particular my love of a good practical joke.

Grandma said Mother never went so far as to play jokes on anyone, a comment to which Virgil responded by winking at Scott and pointing out she had definitely played a huge practical joke on Dad. Grandma looked lost.

"What joke? I don't remember your mother playing jokes." she said in a confused voice.

"What do you think Gordon was?" Virgil grinned indicating me. "You gotta admit that was one great big practical joke Grandma."

"Yeah one that backfired." Scott chimed in. "Now we're stuck with him so I guess the joke's on us."

I frowned. These guys might think they had a sense of humour but in my opinion it was a mighty warped one.

I don't remember when it was that I first decided one of the best ways to pass the time away was to enjoy setting up the misfortune of others. I know I was only seven when Alan and I decided to play our first practical joke together. Naturally it was on Grandma and the plan was to substitute the self- raising flour with plain flour in Grandma's kitchen. Alan didn't want to do it originally but I convinced him it would be fun to watch Grandma's face when her culinary masterpiece didn't rise as she anticipated.

"But she'll throw it away and we won't get to eat it then." Alan whined, still a most unwilling accomplice when it came down to matters concerning his stomach.

"No she won't. It'll taste the same." I assured him. "It'll just be flat and she won't know why."

And so our pranks were born and the first one went off beautifully. Poor Grandma. I can still see her face when she took that cake out of the oven and it was flatter than anything she'd ever attempted in her life. She reddened, scratched her head, read the recipe again and looked at the flour container. We would have gotten away with it except one very stupid and desperate little brother piped up begging her to please not throw it away as it would still taste the same. Grandma's not stupid. A little slow sometimes but not stupid. She put one and one together really fast and came up with two naughty little Tracy boys. We found out crime was fun but it certainly didn't pay as both of us were relegated to washing dishes for two full days for our efforts.

One of my biggest mistakes was the Christmas party debacle with Dad. As I have said before I sure as heck did not inherit my sense of humour from my Father. He's as staid and serious as an undertaker particularly when he's around his business associates and unfortunately it was his business associates he was around when I "accidentally" set the sprinkler timer incorrectly in the back garden.

Despite Dad's hatred of socialising, each year he had Grandma arrange for a Christmas get together for his close associates. Most of them were worth millions to the company and usually Dad took them to lunch somewhere fancy where they all sat around drinking expensive scotch and talking about nothing but business.

The year I turned nine, Grandma decided it would be better and less formal if Dad invited them to our home for a cocktail party in the newly landscaped back garden. She invited their wives too. Dad was a bit dubious but after Grandma informed him how she was going to set things up he was very happy with the idea. The party went into full swing with men in black business suits and ladies in black cocktail dresses. It always amazed me how everyone in business always wore black and how important they looked or at least pretended to look. Alan and I sat upstairs overlooking the party from the security of our room. Dad had told us to make ourselves scarce.

We watched Scott, Virgil and Johnny walking about in their black suits like miniature Dads offering savouries and drinks. We watched our Father moving from one group of Associates to the other making very sure not to ignore anyone.

Then it happened.

There was a loud click within ten metres of where my Father stood speaking to one of the most influential people in NASA. Dad's eyes riveted in the direction of the noise and not five seconds later the newly installed sprinkler system came on and not moderately either. The whole back garden erupted in a sea of water and the two of us nearly split our sides laughing as men and women ducked and weaved for cover and despite their efforts all ended up soaking wet. The trouble was so did Dad, wearing his brand new and extremely expensive suit.

I might tell you some of those women became pretty darned scary as their mascara ran but even they weren't as scary as the look we got from Dad when he cast his eyes upwards towards our bedroom window. He knew it was us and boy did the two of us pay for the laugh we got that day. We didn't wash dishes this time. We got it right in the seat of our pants when Dad got his hands on us.

After the long lecture and well deserved caning from Dad for ruining the party Alan decided he'd give up his life of crime once and for all, well that sort of crime anyway. This left me to plan my own pranks and as I grew older my imagination ran wild.

Poor Grandma. She was always the subject my pranks. Half the time she didn't even know she was. Things would just "go wrong" for her and she would remark what a dreadful day she was having. Even the day she lost her petticoat at the market she simply shook her head and commented they didn't make petticoats like they used to.

My brothers were the best targets. Like Dad none of them had a great sense of humour and they didn't take too kindly to the things I did.

I remember taking a dislike to that girl Scott went bananas over… Adelaide whatever her name was. Boy was she ever one stuck up accessory. She walked around our house with her nose in the air. Even Grandma commented Scott was like a love sick kitten around her. Kitten? Naturally that gave me an idea.

Scott loves seafood. He always has. Give my big brother a meal of lobster and fresh bread and he's a man who's gone to heaven. Back in those days he liked nothing better than to have a sandwich with some sort of seafood filling after school. Grandma didn't mind it herself and had no qualms about making it for him. One afternoon Scott of course had brought Miss Adelaide home and in his usual bossy voice told me, not asked me, to go and get he and Adelaide something to eat while they started their homework.

I gave him a wry grin.

Sure, why not! I just so happened to have had a can of cat food in my room that I'd been keeping for such an auspicious occasion and I happily made them a tasty little snack to have with their coffee.

"Here you go." I said as I walked into his room interrupting his "homework".

"Don't you know how to knock?" he growled as he and Adelaide broke apart.

"Yep I do." I replied. "Hope it's how you like it." I grinned setting the plate down on his sideboard.

"Look can't you see I'm busy?" he snapped.

"Yep." I said standing in the doorway hoping to watch his face when he took a bite.

"Well get outta here." he said much to my disappointment. I wanted to see him screw up his face and tell Grandma the tuna was off.

It turned out even better than I planned. They actually ate the whole thing and when Scott commented to Grandma that she should buy that brand of tuna again, I almost exploded with laughter. I simply had to let him know so I "anonymously" left my calling card; the empty tin and a note. Scott went ten shades of green at the thought of it and he couldn't do a darned thing to me because I threatened to tell Adelaide he had not only offered but encouraged her to eat cat food.

Then there was Virgil and the sheet music. Virgil is a hopeless case of perfection plus when it comes to the writing and performance of music. Everything has to be flawless and everything usually is. To me, music was simply some useless looking dots on lined paper. Who cared what order the dots came in? Unfortunately for him as it turned out, I sure didn't.

"Hey Dad… Grandma. Listen to this and tell me what you think." he said as he seated himself confidently at the piano. "I've been writing this for a couple of days now and I think it's a knockout."

Dad put down his paper, Grandma put down her knitting, I put down my book; all of us prepared to listen. Then he started. You have never heard such a disharmony of discordant notes in your entire life. Dad looked at Grandma. Grandma looked at Dad. No-one looked at me thank goodness.

"Err … it's certainly different son." Dad said trying his best to be polite. "What do you think Mother?

Grandma stammered. "Oh ... ummm.. mmmm...I'm with your Father. But I think it needs a bit more work though sweetie."

Virgil reddened. He couldn't figure out how he could have made that many mistakes. He glared at me as an instant suspect but I feigned my innocence pleading total lack of musical ear. Luckily Dad and Grandma distracted him with their words of "keep working son. I'm sure it will turn out OK.."

Then there was Johnny; my ever so serious middle brother. Of all my brothers he had the least sense of humour and suffered from nerves the worst. That was obvious when he was called upon to address the student body of Parkhurst Junior High on the benefits of joining the Astronomy Club. He didn't eat for three days beforehand he was so worried.

"Is your brother always this nervous?" my pal Tom asked me as we sat in the front row at Junior High Assembly watching Johnny pacing about like a demented lion waiting for his turn to speak.

"Oh he's nervous all right." I grinned. "And he's got good reason to be."

Poor Johnny. I looked at him as he took the podium coughing with nervous asthma at the thought of having to address the whole student body little knowing I had replaced his notes with a poster of a star and the nursery rhyme he had recited over and over again as a child. As he prepared to speak in front of the student body he opened the cylinder and found the poster. His whole face fell to the ground as he realised he had nothing to refer to and all he could do was rely on his wits. Somehow he managed to pull through the experience but when it was over I knew he would be headed in my direction.

Funnily enough he never made it to where I sat. He was surrounded by potential astronomers at the conclusion of the speech and simply couldn't get mad at me because the school astronomy club enrolled thirty nine new members. Johnny is often called upon to lecture on astronomy these days and he's now very confident. He should be very grateful to his little brother for setting him on his way. That's the way I see it anyway.

Then of course there was Alan, the most sought after target of all. He really wasn't much fun until I figured out he had a one big weakness; his thing for Tin-Tin Kyrano. He was so pathetic where she was concerned. It was obvious he was in love with her and even more obvious that he wanted that love to move to a more physical level. She on the other hand was as cool as a cucumber and whilst I didn't know for sure if the feeling was mutual, my instincts told me it was.

Naturally I went with my instincts and decided it was time for the two of them to come out of the closet and admit to each other that things were hotting up between them. What better way than to introduce the very symbol that things were. The trouble was I only expected Alan to unpack his shopping purchases in front of Tin-Tin, not Dad, Grandma and Kyrano too. I can assure you unpacking a packet of condoms in front of that audience is not funny to say the least and Alan has honestly never forgiven me for that.

The trouble with playing pranks is the victims always want revenge. I've been on the receiving end of quite a few pay backs in my time from my brothers but pranks at school only ended up with me in hot water with Dad. I went though a period of weekly suspensions for my efforts at Parkhurst Junior High and after a while Dad had quite frankly had enough of getting the daily call from the Principal.

The day he got the call about me sabotaging a science experiment was the last straw for him. There had been no damage done to any of the students or the lab thank goodness but all the science tests for my class had been burnt to a crisp. The Principal had suspended me immediately afterwards telling me I wasn't to return to school "until my Father talked some sense into me."

Naturally I was hauled off to his room the moment I walked through the door.

"Why did you go and do something crazy like that for Gordon?" he ranted at me. "Now everyone has to do their tests again including you."

I sat in the chair in the corner of his room biting my lip and trying not to laugh. Memories of my science teacher racing about trying to save the science tests made it hard to keep a straight face.

"Gee Dad." I swallowed trying to be serious. "I didn't mean for it to end up in a fireball."

"Wipe the grin off your face right now and try to be serious about life for a change." he rumbled. "I'm tired of your pranks Gordon and so is everyone else. I swear if I have to speak to you one more time this week I swear..."

"Aww Dad." I frowned. "Lighten up. You're too serious about everything. No-one got hurt Sir."

"Don't you tell me to lighten up." he thundered. "I know no-one got hurt but one day someone will son. Now I'm telling you for the last time … tow the line … you understand me?"

I sighed and sank unhappily into the chair as he eyeballed me. "Yes Sir." I said in a disgruntled voice.

Dad sighed and said as much to himself as to me, "The way you're going Gordon you won't make it to adulthood."

At that moment I looked in the direction of Dad's sideboard where Mom's picture now stood. Her face captivated me as he uttered those words. It was like she was calling me to her and telling me that my Father was right.

"You're right Dad." I said as I stood up to leave.

Dad looked at me strangely. He had noticed me looking at the picture and it obviously worried him because he mentioned it to Grandma.

"Don't be ridiculous Jeff." she exclaimed. "That red haired son of yours is flat out having any sense at all let alone a sixth sense. You're imagining things as usual."

Funny thing was as she said it her own eyes were wary.

It was the second warning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

ACCIDENTALLY EXPERIENCED

Being a prankster and a person who has no fear of anything certainly has gotten me into some sticky situations over the years but none was more memorable than situation I found myself in at the National Swimming Championships. I was sixteen years old.

The National Championship Meet was the qualifying event for selection into the Olympic Team. It was crucial that I swam well at the event and unfortunately for me, Dad had not allowed me to attend any more than my usual allotted training session of once per day in the lead up to the event. No-one knew how I would perform at the Championship and Dad decided to accompany me to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground.

He did not allow me to travel with the State Team. He insisted he flew me there himself.

"Don't be disappointed if you fail to meet the qualifying time son." he said to me as we jetted across the country in his private plane. "As long as you give this your best shot I'll be pleased."

Well I gave more than the swimming Championships my best shot let me tell you and despite the fact that my Father hardly let me out of his sight I managed quite successfully to turn myself into a man.

The day I qualified to represent the United States at the Olympic Games was a day for me to remember all right and I'm not talking about swimming either.

It was November 29 the year before the Olympics. I had won my qualifying race easily that afternoon and Dad had been stunned. So stunned he even allowed me to hang around with the rest of team while he went to make some of his beloved business calls.

"You mind yourself son." he warned as he went to leave. "Stay with the team and do as you're told."

"Yes Sir." I replied.

Well … I did do what Dad said. I did as I was told and what I was told to do put me into a position where I ended up having my first real experience with a girl. Trouble was she was no girl. She was twenty one years old.

It was Mark's fault. Mark was the captain of the swimming team, who, like me hailed from the east coast. He was twenty four; a freestyler who was tall, brash and fast... and full of mischief. I often kicked about with him because we shared the same sense of humour. He'd won his race earlier in the day too but still had three others to go. He was having a tustle with the Captain of the Oklahoma team on who would be the National Captain for the Games.

He was acutely aware of my youth and very aware of the fact that I had been giving one or two of the female swimmers in the team more than a cursory glance over the past few weeks.

"Hey Tracy." he called across the room in front of three of the guys, "Why don't you go and check out the talent while you're waiting for your Father. "

I reddened as the other guys laughed. They were all in their twenties too and from the conversation they'd all been having it was just as well my Father made me fly down with him. Quite a bit of fraternising had been going on between the male and female camps and none of it was to do with swimming.

"What do you mean?" I frowned.



Mark lifted his eyebrows and threw a glance towards the door.

"Women's two hundred metres is in the showers." he winked. "That little blonde from Utah you like is in there."

"Err…" I began, remembering my Father's warning. "That's against the rules isn't it?"

Mark shook his head.

"Not in any rule book I've ever read. What's the matter kid? You chicken or something?"

My hackles raised. No-one called me a chicken ever and when Randy, a backstroke swimmer came straight out and said, "He's only sixteen. The little boy from Boston wouldn't even know what he was looking at.", there was no way I wasn't going to rise to the challenge.

"I'm from New York." I spat as I pulled on my tracksuit. "We moved there last Fall."

"Papers still call you the little boy from Boston." he teased.



Well that was it for me and the rest I can truly say was history. I learned more about life in those showers with that twenty one year old than I learned in twelve years of schooling that's for sure. If I didn't know what I was looking at before I went in there I sure as hell did when I came out.

As I sat next to Dad on the way back to New York the day after hearing of my selection in the Olympic team he felt the need to give me one of his deep and meaningful lectures about life. I listened attentively.

"Winning is the optimum son but you need to remember that it's the experience of giving things your best shot that makes young boys grow into men. I hope your experience this week-end has taught you that."

My mind dwelled back to the showers.

"Oh yes Sir." I grinned sincerely. "I gave everything I attempted this weekend my best shot."

Maybe I was a little too sincere. Dad gave me a strange look before the lecture ended.

Unlike what had happened the previous year with Johnny, Dad never found out about me.

Naturally Grandma found out. I still don't know how but all I can think of is that she was eavesdropping in the garden when I was telling Alan about my experience.

Alan was wild now, constantly in trouble with Dad for one crazy stunt after the next. Poor Dad when I think about it. He had to tolerate me playing pranks one minute and Alan doing something stupid the next. The two of us really gave our Father hell in our teens.

Alan, rife with hormones, was insanely jealous when I told him what I had experienced.

"What was it like?" he asked, his blue eyes as wide as saucers.

Like I said we had no secrets from each other. Thanks to me he soon knew what it was like and soaked up the information like a sponge.

Unfortunately so did Grandma.

That evening when we went inside for supper Grandma wasn't happy. You could always tell when Grandma wasn't too pleased about something. The pots and pans copped one hell of a caning in the kitchen and everyone held their breath fearing for the well-being of the crockery as it was banged down on the table.

Well that night was no exception. Dad was in the lounge reading his newspaper and Alan and I were watching television when Grandma started clanging and banging every saucepan she could find. Soon the drawers rattled and the cutlery was slammed down on the servery. Dad looked over at the two of us with a worried expression.

"Uh oh." he said rising to his feet and moving quickly in the direction of the dining room.

"Mother ... "he called. "Don't worry about the glasses. I'll get them out for you all right?"

Alan looked at me nervously.

"It's not me." he said. "I haven't done anything."

I shrugged.

"Well I haven't either. I haven't been home to get into trouble. It must be you."

He frowned. "It isn't me."

I rolled my eyes at him. "It's always you."

Grandma's mood didn't improve over dinner that's for sure.

Despite Dad carefully placing the expensive italian glassware on the table, his diligence was all in vain. Grandma smashed the dish of potatoes down so hard next to her glass of wine the vibration it caused tipped the glass over and rolled it onto the floor where it smashed into a thousand pieces.

That really got her going then.

"Get everything off that table Jeff." she stormed as she barged across the room and threw open the linen press to find another cloth. "Move it!"

It was funny watching Dad doing as he was told. He, like us knew better than to do otherwise when Grandma was like this.

We finally sat down to supper and everyone was watching everyone else to see who Grandma was mad at. After about ten minutes of Grandma's disapproving glares across the table, I started to realise it was me. I swallowed and tried to think what I'd done or hadn't done that would get her so riled up. The checklist went through my head,

"Sweep the path, take out the trash, pack the dishwasher, bring in the laundry..."

Nope I'd done everything I was supposed to that day.

Alan in the meantime was sweating bricks that he was the one in trouble. Both of us gave Dad a terrible time but we sure didn't mess with Grandma.

I could see his brain ticking over nervously as well.

"Water the lawn, wash the car, sweep the garage, unpack the dishwasher ..."

As the minutes ticked by it became obvious that despite doing all our required chores; one of us was about to get a reality check for something we didn't know we'd done or hadn't done.

"This is a lovely dinner mother." Dad said in his most careful and appreciative voice. "Can I get you another glass of wine to replace the last one?"

By his tone I think Dad thought he was in trouble too.

"No thank you." she snapped giving me yet another look of complete displeasure.

"By the way did you end up finding that mint in the garden?" he asked, hinting that she had forgotten to make his favourite mint sauce for dinner.

"No I did not." she replied nearly biting Dad's head off. "I was doing OTHER things in the garden this evening."

Again her eyes glared at me.

"That's OK." Dad swallowed. "I know how busy we keep you."

Yep, Dad thought he was the one in trouble all right.

"I'll clear the dishes for you tonight Grandma." Alan quaked, opening his mouth for the first time since he sat down at the table.

No, Alan thought he was the one in trouble.

It occurred to me if Scott, Virgil and Johnny were home they'd be probably thinking it was them too.

Grandma stood up abruptly and eyed everyone. However her focus was on me.

"All of you just leave off!" she said through gritted teeth. "You don't have to patronise me. It's not as if I'm twenty one anymore."

The emphasis on the twenty-one was too obvious even for me to miss. My face reddened as I realised she had overheard me in the garden telling Alan everything about my first time. I cringed at the thought of her hearing some of details I'd given him and started to panic. If Grandma told Dad what I'd been up to, totally unprotected and with a twenty-one year old woman into the bargain, my life would effectively be over. I remembered only too vividly how Dad had reacted when Johnny was caught out in High school and I was a year younger than Johnny had been.

Obviously so did Grandma.

She stormed off into the kitchen calling me to come after her and help with the dessert. As I shook in my shoes next to her in the kitchen she made at least ten more references to "twenty one" and I got the message loud and clear that she knew all right. To say she was displeased was an understatement and I anxiously waited all night for the reality check I knew would be coming my way.

But she didn't say anything to me and she never said anything to Dad.

However I might say that even though I lost my innocence well over six years ago I'm still nervously awaiting the day Grandma says her piece to me.

We don't get away with anything around our Grandma.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~

ACCIDENTALLY KILLED

Umm ... I don't want to talk about this so I'm going to keep it short and sweet. I'm sure Grandma's told you enough about my hydrofoil accident without me going into too much detail.

It still hurts to think about it and it's even harder for me to talk about it.

You see despite me being nothing like my Father in looks, interests or mannerisms, I have more in common with him than all of my brothers put together.

I know how my Father felt to lose someone who was everything to him. I know how much the mere mention of her name hurt him. I also know why he kept himself ridiculously busy and pretended she never existed. He did it to ease the pain he felt in his heart.

I don't talk or think about Jezzica Parker either because I simply can't deal with it and like Dad this is the only way I've been able to cope.

Jezzica and I went to the same High school but we were in different classes and with my swimming commitments for the Olympics I didn't even notice her until our Senior Year. She was the daughter of a marine biologist and had a fascination with the water. That was how we originally "found" each other. When I retired from swimming after the Olympics at the insistence of my Father, he allowed me to take diving lessons. She was taking lessons too.

It didn't take us long to become friends due to our similar interests and the more I kicked about with my "friend" Jezzie, the more I grew to like her.

She was a very pretty girl, tall, with blonde hair the colour of straw and green eyes like emeralds. Mischievous wasn't the word for Jezzica; she was simply wicked. She had a tremendous sense of humour, a great appreciation of fun and like me felt everyone around her took life far too seriously.

"Life is for living Gordie." she exclaimed vibrantly on more than one occasion. "People waste their lives worrying about what other people think and say and do and never get to be the people they really want to be."

I totally agreed with her.

The months of our senior year went on and our friendship deepened. In the last two months of high school I started to come to the realisation that I was totally infatuated with this beautiful girl. She on the other hand simply considered herself as my friend and whilst it didn't seem to be enough for me, I accepted that was all there was. I trusted her completely and confided in her about everything. Only Jezzica knew that I didn't want to go to College and how scared I was at having to tell my Father what I wanted to do with my life.

"Just tell him Gordon." she frowned as we sat together during recess."Just walk up to him and say Dad I don't want to go to College."

I shook my head. "You don't understand Jezz. This is Jeff Tracy I'm talking about not a regular Father."

She shrugged. "So? He's still your Father isn't he?"

"Yes." I replied.

"He'd want you to be happy wouldn't he?"

"Yes I guess he would."

"Well tell him what you want to do after High School."

"I can't Jezzie." I admitted. "He'll flip."

"My Father didn't flip." she said. "He's disappointed I've decided not to go to College but he knows WASP is a great career choice for someone like me. He understands I'd probably have enlisted after College anyway. So why wait?"

She had one straight head on her shoulders my Jezz. She knew what she wanted to get out of life and she simply went ahead and got it for herself. I wished I could be the same.

"My Dad's idea of a great career choice is to go to College and then join the Air Force or NASA." I sighed. "He won't consider anything else and it doesn't help that Scott's doing so well in the Air Force in Nebraska and Virgil and Johnny are in Colleges doing what he wants them to do."

"But you're not like your brothers." she insisted trying to make me see reason. "You don't look like them so why should you act like them? If you want to join WASP do it Gordon. Just tell your Father you're enlisting and do it."

She made it sound so easy. To her way of thinking it was.

Boy was she wrong. Jezzica might have known me well but she certainly didn't know my Father.

Dad went absolutely ballistic when I plucked up the courage to tell him. He almost blew the roof off when I told him I hadn't completed the forms he'd given me for Yale. I told him I hadn't filled them out by choice even though I was grateful he was prepared to send me to such a prestigious College.



"You'll complete those forms after supper tonight." he thundered. "...and I expect to see them on the table next to my coffee first thing in the morning ready for me to sign."

"No Dad." I said shakily. "I don't want to go to Yale or any other College for that matter."

Dad gave me a swift and dangerous look.

"You'll do as I blasted well tell you." he warned. "College has been good enough for your older brothers and it's certainly good enough for you."

Jezz's words echoed in my head.

"I'm not like my brothers Father." I replied. "I want to join the World Aquanaut Security Patrol and I don't need to go to College to do it."

Well that was like saying I was defecting to the enemy to an Air Force man. Dad's face reddened angrily with disbelief.

"You will NOT join that outfit." he stressed adamantly.

"Why can't I Dad? I love the water. WASP is a great career choice for someone like me." I pleaded using Jezz's words.

"You are not enlisting in WASP Gordon." Dad yelled. "You are going to Yale and then you're going to do a stint in the Air Force to give you a bit of sense and discipline which I might say has been sadly lacking in you these past few years."

"Dad please." I implored. "I don't want to join the Air Force ..."

I lowered my voice and looked him straight in the eye. "... and you can't make me Sir because I simply won't do it."

I can tell you standing up to my Father that day was the bravest thing I've ever done in my entire life. Even Grandma couldn't believe it by the look on her face. She hurriedly rose from where she sat and stood between us. She could see Dad's face and knew what was coming next.

"Now you two stop all your arguing right this minute and back off until you can be civil to each other." she ordered glaring from Dad to me to Dad..

"Mother…" Dad rumbled in a tone even Grandma recognised as dangerous. "…stay out of this please."

Grandma turned to me and gave me a look which told me to stop arguing with my Father because I wasn't going to win this time and even she could see it.

"Now you listen here." Dad said through gritted teeth. "Don't you start acting defiantly around me. I know where all this is coming from don't you worry. You haven't been thinking straight since you took up with that Parker girl and I am not going to stand by and watch you throw away your life chasing after some little skirt you happen to have taken a fancy to."

That comment really made me see red and I had nearly as much of my Grandfather's temper in me as Alan did when I was riled up. As I said before, I was not afraid of my Father and I didn't take too kindly to the inference about Jezz, especially when it wasn't true.

"Her name is Jezzica Dad and she is not just some little skirt I have taken a fancy to." I spat looking him straight in the eyes. "She's my friend and that's all. It's true she's enlisting in WASP too but I wanted to enlist long before she ever came on the scene. I know I'm only seventeen and you think I'm not capable of making any decisions of my own but I can tell you right here and now I won't be following in your footsteps and walking on the moon. You might have walked up there Dad and made a lot of money as a result of who you are but you're still on the moon if you think I want to be like you."

I stood there rebelliously eye to eye with my Father. He raised his hand to slap me.

Now it was Grandma's turn to see red.

"Gordon that's enough! Go to your room please." she commanded. "This is a silly fruitless argument that isn't achieving anything for either of you."

"Mother..." Dad growled.

"Grandma..." I protested.

"Hush that big mouth of yours and go I said!" she ordered looking me full in the face. "And don't you come out of there until you're prepared to apologise for what you just said to your Daddy. It was downright rude young man; rude, ungrateful and totally uncalled for."

I glared at Dad and angrily stalked from the room thinking Grandma had sided with him. However before I'd even gotten out of earshot Grandma turned on him too.

"What the hell do you think you're doing son?" she demanded. "Have you already forgotten everything you went through as a young man?"

I've never heard Dad speak to Grandma as disrespectfully as he did right then.

"Mind your business for a change mother and leave me to attend to matters that concern me and my son not you."

Dad's rudeness was like water off a duck's back to Grandma. Her tone became as obnoxious as his.

"These matters do concern me." she snarled. "I've raised that youngster from a baby in case you've forgotten."

"Well you should have raised him to listen to those who know better than he does." Dad shot back.

"Why should he listen when you don't!" she flashed. " Has it been too many billion dollars ago that you can't remember how unhappy you were driving that Tractor for your Daddy day in day out knowing it wasn't what you wanted to do with yourself?"

"This is totally different ..." he interjected

"It's NOT different." she interrupted. "It's exactly the same and don't you kid yourself otherwise. I remember how miserable you were in those fields and if it wouldn't have been for me making your Father see reason you'd still be there carving out a mediocre living for yourself."

"Mother ... I knew farming wasn't what I wanted to do."

Grandma had an answer for everything.

"No it wasn't. I know that and you know that but your Father didn't see that did he? All he knew is that he thought he knew what was best for his son. It wasn't easy making him open his eyes to see how miserable his dreams were making you and I can tell you right here and right now you're acting just the same as he did the moment… mule-headed, stubborn and totally blind to the feelings of your son. "

"Mom that's not true. I at least tried to do what Dad wanted before I turned my back on it. That kid of mine isn't even prepared to consider it."

"Why should he consider it? He point blank doesn't want to do it Jeff and if that isn't enough for you to stop and think about things, you also need to take a step back and remember whose son you're dealing with here."

There was silence and then Grandma's voice cut the air with a knife.

"Don't you look at me like you don't know what I mean because I know you know exactly what I mean . That's Lucy's son I've just sent upstairs to cool off. He is every bit as stubborn and self willed as she was and like her you aren't going to get him to do anything he doesn't want to do no matter how much you carry on. In case you've forgotten she stood up for herself more than capably and I'm warning you that boy of hers isn't afraid to stand up for himself either."

Dad didn't reply and when it was obvious he didn't have anything he could say she added.

"You answer me this Jeff Tracy; if your Lucy was standing here in front of you right now whose side do you think she'd be on; yours or your son's?"

End of argument.

The next day my Father reluctantly signed the forms to allow me to enlist in WASP.

This might sound ungrateful but I wish my Grandma would have kept out of our argument that night. If she had kept out of things I know Dad would have forced me to go to Yale despite my protests and Jezzie would have gone to WASP without me.

If that was the case Jezzica probably would still be alive today.

However fate ticked on.

The two of us spent the next two and half years in WASP together. I was a Tracy son and that seemed to count for something no matter where because I quickly progressed through the Ranks in WASP and was promoted to Lieutenant. Jezz was in my squadron and when I was promoted to Lieutenant and I was made her direct Commander. We both loved the sea and loved the work and despite things still being tense between myself and my Father, life was pretty damned good all round for me.

I was hopelessly in love with Jezzica which made being her Commander difficult. Even more difficult was me trying to tell her how I felt about her off base and sounding like I really meant it. She was used to me joking around all the time and she joked about too. The words "I love you" didn't mean the same when they were accompanied by a cheeky grin and tray full of ice tossed down her back.

Eight days before she died I took her home to Tracy Island to meet my Grandma. I knew Grandma would like her. Everyone who met Jezzie liked her, including Dad who was slowly coming around to admitting I had done the right thing joining WASP.

As we joked about with Grandma in the kitchen I saw her give me a look like the one she now gives Alan when he teases Tin-Tin. It's a special look I can't really describe but it told me she believed I had found my soul-mate and she unequivocally approved.

Our visit with Grandma was a very special and wonderful few days. The two of us wandered together along the beach on Tracy Island and it was on that beach we finally admitted our love for each other. There were no jokes as I held her in my arms on the darkened shore that beautiful Summer night. There was only the stark admission to Jezzica Parker that I loved her with all my heart and everything that was within me. She shyly told me she felt the same.

It was during that visit that we also took the final step and consummated that love.

Naturally there has to be a touch of mischief to be had in everything momentous that I do. I'm not the prankster in this family for nothing. What better way to make a statement to my Father that I was a man now than to experience Jezzica Parker for the first time in the middle of his king-sized bed. I can honestly say he'd kill me if he found out.

However don't get me wrong on this one. It was a risk doing it and I didn't risk it alone. You guessed it. My partner in crime came back for one last encore. Alan made sure he kept Grandma very busy during that magical hour Jezzie and I became one in Dad's room. Only Alan knew how much I loved Jezz and only he knows how much I miss her now.

The day we left Tracy Island was the day the third warning came. We were ribbing each other about her being "under me" in WASP. Her reply to that was the day she ever acknowledged she was under me would be the day she was dead. Grandma looked worried at that comment but being young and brash and in love I thought nothing of it.

It was because she was under me that I commanded she and three other members of my squadron accompany me out in rough seas to test a new hydrofoil. My own Commander indicated he wanted to come but as the Lieutenant I insisted I was to be in command of the hydrofoil. None of us knew how it would cope in the conditions.

"Keep a level head Lieutenant." my Commander said as we powered out into the bay. "I haven't got a good feeling about this for some reason."

The last thing I remember about Jezz was looking at her beautiful features from where I stood pushing the hydrofoil towards maximum speed. Her blonde hair was plaited and she cut one hell of a figure in her uniform. I smiled at her and she winked at me. I shuddered with desire for her. I increased speed as our eyes locked.

Without warning I heard my Commander yell loudly to me to slow down. My eyes riveted to the controls. We were overspeed. I desperately slammed the throttle . The Hydrofoil wouldn't slow down. I felt it leaving my control and become airborne. I saw her eyes round in terror. I heard her scream… I heard everyone scream.

That's all I can remember.

The next thing I can actively recall in my mind after that was looking at a light; a bright white iridescent light in the distance beckoning me to advance towards it. It was a light so brilliant that I was completely mesmerised. I felt myself moving forward as if drawn by a magnet.

I never reached it.

A hand touched my shoulder and a young and very pretty woman came to stand between me and the object of my fascination. Her face was painfully familiar and I recognised it immediately thanks to the picture Grandma had shown me in secret all those years ago.

"Momma?" I heard myself enquire. She nodded and remained silent.

She was every bit as beautiful as she appeared in her photograph… long curly hair … velvet brown eyes, a smile not unlike my own and a scent … I swear even now I can smell it … an unmistakable scent of lavender.

I stared at her for what seemed an eternity. She wore such a face of peace and of love that I could only feel safe beside her. I never knew her but I still felt safe. However it wasn't until she spoke that something really stirred in my distant memory…something that recognised her voice as the one that once sounded reassuringly in the night when a little red-haired baby cried.

"Don't cry baby." the distant voice in my memory echoed. "It's all right. Momma's here with you."

I felt her hand lightly brush my cheek. Her feathery touch felt like the kiss of an angel as it lingered on my chin.

"My precious baby boy …" she said lovingly. "I've missed you."

I continued to stare in awe at the figure I saw before my eyes.

"Gordie …" she whispered. "As much as I love you, you must know you have come to me before your time." she said gently. "You don't belong here yet baby."

I remember shaking my head as everything inside me reared up in denial and told me I was meant to be with her.

I heard my voice stammer.

"Please… no … momma… I … I want to stay… I want to stay with you."

She shook her head.

"No you must go back. You cannot come here until it is your time. Your Father needs you. There is still so much which needs to be done."

She began to move away from me towards the light. Desperately I tried to follow her. She rose above me and looked down upon my captivated face

"Gordon … no my darling." she said firmly." You are integral to your Father's plans for a better world. I cannot take you from him. Not yet …Go back … go back to your Daddy... and your brothers."

She began to leave my vision and as she did I felt my eyes fill. She was leaving me again and I didn't want her to go.

"Momma … don't leave me alone again … please …" I begged reaching my hand out to her. I clearly remember my hand was transparent.

She turned back and her beautiful face lit up.

"No Gordon. I may have been removed from your sight but I have never left you or your brothers alone." she said. "I will always be beside you. Now you must hear me and go back to your Father. "

"But …what about Jezzie… "

"I will take care of her for you Gordon." she whispered. "Your Jezzica will always be safe with me. Now … listen … listen to my voice …and go back to Daddy."

My mind was suddenly overcome with that sweet lullaby she used to sing to me as a baby.

I listened intently and I can honestly say I have never felt so peaceful and at rest in my whole life. It was like a hand had come over me, enveloping me, taking me within to never let me go.

According to everyone I spoke to in the months that followed that moment was the point when I "died" in the hospital.

But my rest in that place was short-lived. As the Doctors worked on me in the hospital she began to drift from me again and as she did she said softly.

"Tell your Father I love him Gordon. Tell him there isn't a day that passes where I don't miss him and wish things were different. Tell him he's done a wonderful job raising my babies alone and I now want him to follow his dream for humanity. Tell him for me Gordon ... Tell him he must ..."

As she faded away towards the light her voice trailed.

"…and tell your brothers momma loves them … all of them …"

As she faded away from view I saw her reach out her hand … a young girl appeared from nowhere … a pretty girl with blonde hair and emerald green eyes… that girl took her hand and went towards the light….and was gone…



When I awoke from the coma all I remember seeing was my Fathers face. It was grey and as my eyes focussed on his he lowered his head and began to sob with relief.

"D…D..Dad." I heard myself breathe. "What h…h…happened?"

Before he could answer my baby brother pulled me to him and began crying his heart out.

"Gordie." he wept. "Thank God. Thank God you're OK."

Around my bed were my other brothers. Scott stood with tears sliding down his cheeks; Virgil stood holding Johnny. Next to them looking older than I'd ever seen her before was Grandma. I saw her eyes fill and close. I heard her whisper. "Thank you Lucy."

Grandma told me later on that all of them had been there for nearly two weeks and whilst she and my brothers had come and gone, my Father had not left my side.

Dad had showered and shaved at the hospital. He had slept next to me night and after night on a mattress on the floor. He had sat in that uncomfortable chair by my side hour after hour ….day after day. He had been by my side since the accident, flying himself across the country to the military hospital where they had taken me and steadfastly refusing to leave.

I don't care what anyone says … my Dad is the most wonderful, special man who ever walked the face of this earth. I thought he worked so hard when I was a child because he only cared about making money. Nothing could ever have been further from the truth. My Father loved me more than life itself and he demonstrated that completely as he unashamedly held me close to his chest and wept, thanking mother for giving me back to him..



By and by it was Dad who had to break the news that everyone on board the hydrofoil, except for me, had died. After my "experience" with Mom I already knew that Jezzica hadn't made it but it totally devastated me to learn I was the only survivor and had survived for two reasons, the Tracy will to live and Jezzica's body cushioning my impact.

"Gordon… Grandma said. "You were so lucky. Your whole body was completely broken when they pulled you from that wreck."

She quietly added. "If only your little girl had been that lucky sweetie."



I tried not to cry about what had happened to Jezzica but it was hard. Jezzie was everything to me. I think Dad knew that by the way he held me in his arms and gave me what little comfort he could.

"I know how you feel Gordon. I do son." he murmured sympathetically into my red hair. "Don't cry now … Tracy sons don't cry... come on son…please don't cry."

Grandma patted my hand and said gently.

"Sweetie… that dear little girl has gone to be in a better place… a place where there are no more tears and no more pain. Come now …. don't cry sweetie... your mother will look after her in heaven for you."

I knew what Grandma said was the truth. Mother had promised me she would care for Jezz but I still didn't understand why she couldn't have taken me too.

Mother said there was a reason. I was integral to Dad's plan for a better world.

What did that actually mean?

~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

ACCIDENTALLY THE AQUANAUT

It took me a long time to come to grips with what had happened to me and it was a long, hard and painful road to recovery.

I was in hospital for three months and endured operation after operation to repair my broken body. My body began to heal but the inward spirit that was once Gordon Cooper Tracy did not. The outward spirit seemed to be doing nicely as I grinned and joked again with my family but deep down inside I was shattered about losing Jezz.

It didn't help things when I was discharged medically unfit from WASP before I had left the hospital. I knew of course I would never return to the life I loved but it was receiving and opening the letter containing my discharge that really cut me up completely. Grandma quietly held my hand as I scanned the lines.

I lowered my head.

"Grandma." I whispered in defeat. "They've discharged me ma'am."

Despite her words of sympathy I felt that at twenty years of age, there was nothing left in my life now. I tried hard to keep up outward appearances but despite it I fell into a deep and dark depression.

Thank God for the support and love of my family.

Six months after I was discharged from WASP and returned home, my Father called me into his study.

He had been great during my recovery; working from home to make sure I did my exercises, flying me constantly to the mainland for therapy and sitting with me in the evenings when the depression affected me the most.

That day, he watched me limp to the chair and nodded approvingly.

"You're coming along very nicely son." he encouraged as I sat down. "I'm pleased to see it."

I nodded in acknowledgement and looked at him expectantly.

As usual he got right to the point. My Father is a businessman through and through.

"Gordon …" he began in his powerful and unwavering voice. "I want you to come and work for me son."

I cringed. I'd been waiting for this. I knew he'd be wanting me to take some boring desk job in Tracy Enterprises for the rest of my life. I had to ... I couldn't do anything else.

If I hadn't considered myself as the black sheep of the family before, I sure as hell did now.

Scott was a Captain in the Air Force on the verge of entering Red Flag, Virgil was piloting commercial aircraft, Johnny was high tailing it through the ranks in NASA and even Alan, my wild and impetuous baby brother had just graduated from College with honours and was in Astronaut training. I must have been a real thorn in Dad's side. Afterall Jeff Tracy couldn't have one of his sons not achieving something could he?

Tears filled my eyes. I knew I had to accept his offer even though I didn't want to do it.

"OK Father." I replied as I lowered my head and twisted my hands together miserably. "Whatever you say Sir."

Dad said nothing for a few moments before continuing.

"Don't you want to ask me a bit about it son?"

I shook my head.

"No Sir. I know I have to do something with myself. When do you want me to start in New York?"

Dad laid his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently. It hurt for him to touch me but his touch was warm and loving and I needed it right now.

"Son … this job isn't in New York. It's here on Tracy Island… with your brothers"

At my perplexed look Dad said quietly.

"Son … do you remember that message you gave me when you woke from the coma?"

I nodded and replied quietly. "Yes Sir I do."

I clearly remembered relaying the words I had heard or thought I had heard from Mother's lips as she wafted away.

"Tell him he's done a wonderful job raising my babies and I want him to follow his dream for humanity..."

I had been nervous to tell him because I knew he didn't like us talking about Mom but Dad had listened open-mouthed and then simply stared at me in stark amazement not believing what he had just heard. I had delivered her approval to him. The approval he had been hoping to receive for over five years as he stared up into the night sky praying for her guidance. He had looked for a sign it was the right thing to do. Thanks to me he now knew it was. Her words strengthened his resolve and reinforced his vision that the world needed something like International Rescue.

Dad then explained he wanted me to be his Aquanaut. He pointed out how well I could swim and dive and snorkel. I shook my head and pointed out my body was now broken. He told me my body was healing fine and he had nothing but complete confidence in my ability.

"But I need you back in the water immediately son." he said briskly. "You have to get your nerve back because you're the only one I can rely on to man Thunderbird Four."

A wry smile fell over his face as he looked at me.

"And let's face it Gordon Cooper Tracy …" he grinned as my eyes shone with gratitude. "I can't put you in the Pilot's seat son."

"I know how much you've always hated to fly."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Well here we are back at the party and I'm feeling like a turkey the week before Thanksgiving.

"I'm gone."

I hear a voice rumble from the kitchen.

"Gordon Tracy. You get yourself into this kitchen in front of me right this very minute."

I look at Alan and then at Tin-Tin. I frown as I then look in the direction of Grandma's voice.

"This is all your fault." I say accusingly to my little brother.

Alan shakes his head as he swallows a glass of Dad's 100 year old scotch.

"Don't blame me if you're in trouble with Grandma." he replies. "That's your doing."

"I'm in trouble because of you." I argue as she calls me again with real aggravation in her voice.

It's not my fault you can't stop playing jokes on people. "he replies "Boy… that's good Scotch all right." he murmurs as he waters his watering eyes.

"Yeah well you're going to get it when Dad gets back in here." I warn.

Grandma's voice rings out for a third time.

"Forget about me." he grins and throws a "friendly" arm around Tin-Tin's shoulders. "You're about to get it NOW."

Naturally Tin-Tin doesn't blink an eyelid. They're "just friends."

I sigh audibly.

"I swear you owe me Alan." I scowl as I head towards the kitchen.

Johnny, Scott and Virgil roll their eyes as I pass them on their way back to the party.

"Nice going Gords."

"Yeah good one squirt."

"I'd take cover if I were you kid."

Dad passes me in the doorway and simply shakes his head.

"Not one occasion ... not one I swear that I can't expect something crazy to happen because of you. "

Kyrano stands inside the kitchen. His face has no emotion.

"Mr. Gordon."

The face behind him has more emotion than everyone put together. It's Grandma ... and boy is she on the warpath.

Before I can even open my mouth she shoves a pile of cloths into my hands.

"Here." she snaps. "There's TWENTY ONE of these. Now you get down on your hands and knees and wipe up all that foam and mess your Father created and you use every single one of them to do it young man."

I take the cloths sheepishly and reply. "Yes Grandma ... Sorry about the mistake."

As I work, I look up at her standing over me like the head Viking in charge of the slaves. I see Kyrano trying to hide an amused grin as she watches me like a hawk.

"Move it." she thunders.

Job complete, I rise to my feet. "There you are Grandma." I say expecting to be in her good books again. "Now let's go back to the party ..."

She frowns. "That's what you think. A boy past TWENTY ONE and still playing jokes on his Grandma needs to be taught more of a lesson than that!"

She grabs my arm and hauls me in the direction of the benches. She slams a knife down on the bench.

"There's TWENTY ONE potatoes there in front of you. Now you peel every last one of them so Kyrano can replace the ones your Father foamed."

"TWENTY ONE?" I complain. "I'll be here all night Grandma."

She half closes one eye.

"Are you arguing with me?" she demands.

I begin to peel the potatoes. "No ma'am." I reply.

She leans on the bench as I awkwardly try to use the peeler. Thank goodness I've found my calling as an Aquanaut because I'm no Chef that's for sure.

"If I've told you once Gordon Cooper Tracy, I've told you TWENTY ONE times that your jokes aren't funny. TWENTY ONE other babies born that day and we had to get you."

This is getting the better of me. I put down the peeler and fold my arms.

"Grandma ... what's with all the sudden emphasis on twenty one?" I ask in frustration. "I don't get it."

She looks me straight in the eye.

"Oh I think you do young man. This prank was the last straw and it's time your Grandma who's past TWENTY ONE had something to say about your antics."

I'm still confused. What revenge? What antics?

"Let me see ... once upon a time there was an old Grandma who wandered in the garden in the twilight and heard a voice say he'd wiped the floor with the opposition and needed some enjoyment ... I suppose you wiping the floor reminded me of that."

My eyes widen. Oh no ... here it comes.

"and as the story goes that old Grandma heard the same voice say something about peeling off a bathing suit in a shower block." she continued idly picking up a potato and looking at it. "Kind of like peeling one of these wouldn't you say child?"

I swallow and move about nervously. Grandma leading up to something is like watching a volcano preparing to erupt.

"And of course there's that profound statement made to a certain little brother... now how did it go again ... oh yes ... it was the best experience of my life!" she finished before she banged the bench. "Peel!"

I smile and feel foolish as I suddenly realise I am finally getting my reality check for what I did at the Swimming Championships all those years ago.

"OK Grandma enough." I begin putting down the peeler . "You win."

"Win? Win what?" she enquires tersely.

"I know you know about me."

She looks at me and wags her finger in my face.

"Know? Oh I know all right. I also know a lot more yet young man."

"Such as?" I ask worriedly

"That day was not the best experience of your life." she challenged. "You know it and I know it. Peel!" she commands again.

She didn't say anything further as I allowed myself to dwell on her words. She was right. The best day of my life had not been that day with the swimmer; it had been that day I had been with Jezz in Dad's bed. Nothing would ever top that in my mind.

My eyes suddenly widen.

"Oh no!" I exclaim as it dawns on me she knows about that too. "You can't know ..."

She looks at me and says sternly.

"I most certainly do know and if you play any more pranks on me again young man your Father will know about it too."

I shake my head totally amazed. Lord knows how she knows about that but as usual she knows and I've given up trying to work out how.

I extend my hand in a "peace offering".

"OK Grandma. No more pranks." I promise.

"Ever?" she asks.

"No ma'am. " I agree. "ever."

"Hmmm." she frowns. "I'll believe that when I don't see it."

I look at her fondly. She is such a "tell like it is" person.

It occurs to me how empty and sad life would be in this house without my Grandma interfering and sticking her nose into absolutely everything. Worse still what life would have been like if she hadn't answered Dad's desperate cry to help him raise five motherless little boys twenty one years ago.

I can't imagine not being held lovingly by her as a frightened, motherless little toddler. It wouldn't have been the same not being told to pick up my clothes, eat my supper, respect my elders and love my family.

I can't imagine not being sent to my room for a nap every five minutes or not being driven across Boston twice a day seven days a week to train.

I can't imagine her not being there when I stood proudly with an olympic gold medal around my neck or when I awoke from the coma when I lost Jezz.

I can't imagine having the strength to stand beside Jezzica Parker's grave without her.

"Grandma ... I love you." I suddenly blurt.

There no reason for me to say that and I know it won't get me out of the trouble I'm in right now but it sure feels like the right thing to say to this wonderful woman who is my Grandma.

I watch as a wry smile steals over her features.

"Grandma loves you too darling." she replies lovingly before slapping my rear end and turning on her heel to head back to the party.

"Now young man .... let's get back to the party."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

NEXT CHAPTER - FIVE GRANDSON'S IN DAMAGE CONTROL PART 5 - THE WORDS OF THE WILD CHILD

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