Who's In Trouble Now?

By Spense

Chapter Two – Mistake

Alan headed for his bolt-hole in the attic of the first dormitory of the historic school. With four older brothers, it was always better to have several places to escape, and Alan had had a lot of practice finding them. Being the youngest by five years, Alan amended to himself. With brothers that really picked on him. Alan started to fume again. Noticing the strange looks he was getting from other students, Alan forced himself to calm down and act normally. This meant pushing the just heard conversation from his mind. Alan did just that, acting like he was going to see an older friend in the first dormitory.

He mounted the steps two at a time, concentrating on not looking out of place with the older students since Dormitory One held the Juniors and Seniors. The thought occurred to him that he had spent more time being around older kids and adults than he did those his own age, TinTin and Fermat not withstanding. Reaching the top floor Alan headed purposefully down the end of the hall, and not seeing anyone, quickly slipped through the door to the maintenance stairs. He hopped up the flight quickly, then entered into the upper storage room of the old building. Ducking around dusty boxes and old furniture, Alan made for the front. Moving to a nondescript ladder and old paint cloths, he ducked under the hanging cloth he fussed with an old doorknob, carefully hidden by the ladder. It gave easily. 'Amazing what a little WD40 will do," he thought to himself and quickly slipped in his hole.

A small round window in the peak of the old Federal Style building, nestled high up in the eves had caught his attention when he first had come to Wharton Academy. He found the tiny room behind what had been walled off into a storage room. Perfect for disappearing. Not even Fermat knew about this one, although he did know about some of the other hiding places.

Fermat. Alan frowned slightly as he settled himself into his tiny hideaway. Fermat had been going into their room. What do you want to bet Fermat answered the call on the computer. 'Shit!' Alan thought to himself, purposefully taking delight in using language he knew his father and older brothers wouldn't tolerate. Man he hated being the bottom of the totem pole. Back to his original train of thought.

Fermat now probably knew everything. Great, just great. Now he was completely humiliated in front of more people. It was getting to be a regular circus. Alan grabbed a Diet Coke from a package he had stored up here. Safer than in the dorm, that was for sure, and settled back to examine what he'd just learned.

He was a mistake. Apparently in all terms and definitions of the word. His brothers had always made it clear that he wasn't as bright, smart, athletic, mechanically inclined and all together worse at any number of things than one or more of the other Tracy'swere. He'd had this pounded into him from as early as he could remember. Irritating to be sure. And he fought against that train of thought all of his life, physically and verbally. He gave as good as he got, he knew that. But being the youngest by so many years, there was just so much you could do. But he had honestly thought that maybe, just maybe, now that he had his IR pin, things would be different. He'd be more of an equal. He'd proven himself. Like his father had said, 'no shortcuts'. But now, the bulk of the teasing in the past was beginning to take on a different tone. A pattern was beginning to emerge. There was a real core, rather than just the typical brother against brother. And something he would obviously never be able to prove himself against. Ever.

He wasn't wanted. Pure and simple. From birth.

Alan set his drink down, and leaned forward to wrap his arms around his legs and rest his chin on his knees. It made so much sense. The edginess of the teasing and the pranks. He'd always thought that it was that way for all of them, but after what he'd just heard . . .

Thinking again about the exact wording of the conversation, Alan was near tears. Scott had always been there for him. He was always the one they all turned to for advice. Scott was always fair – just like John. Not that he couldn't tease and pull pranks, but Scott, was, well, Scott. He'd always gone to Scott when his Dad wasn't around. Scott was also a grown-up. Alan realized suddenly, for the first time, that when he had received his IR pin, he was looking for Scott's approval, just like his Dad's. Hoping the others would follow his lead. Well, today was certainly an eye-opening surprise. He'd never earn a place. Never.

The tears vanished as Alan just plain got mad – again. Virgil and Gordon, well what they said hurt, but somehow, it was less of a betrayal than Scott.

A mistake. Not only not wanted. 'Wanted to stop at four kids.' Well, that made the age difference make sense. The others were between a year and a half and two and a half years apart. He was separated from Gordon by five a half years. He'd always kind of wondered about that. That was bad enough, but that Mom had died having him made it so much worse. He'd heard stories about her, from all of them. All of his brother's had talked about how neat she had been. Fun and pretty. They had always sounded sad. Alan didn't even have one memory. How could he? She'd died when he was born.

Alan frowned a bit again. And Dad. His father, whom he had fought so much with the last few years. They couldn't seem to talk about anything without yelling at each other. That made more sense too. How could his father possibly like him? He'd killed his mother. A sudden, long forgotten memory of a day long past surfaced. Running crying to his father when he was very small. He'd tripped and scraped up his knee. He'd found his Dad looking a portrait of what he now knew to be his mother, and seeing a strange look on his father's face when he looked at him. His Dad hadn't even touched him, had actually just stepped back from him and called for Scott. Scott had just looked at his father, then grabbed Alan away.

Other small memories surfaced as well. Similar scenes of being very young and walking into that same room with various family members looking at the portrait, and having all conversations stop. Finally Alan had asked, at about 4 years, why everybody stopped talking when he came in. Did the Mommy in the picture tell them too? He didn't remember what was said, but he did remember Scott scooping him up and taking him out to play in the pool. He remembered that afternoon well, they'd had a ball. But now he wondered how much Scott had been hiding, and how much he was protecting his father.

The conversation this afternoon again. His father feeling 'part guilt, part wariness'. Guess that explains where the over protectiveness came in on the part of his father. Not because he was the youngest, but he wasn't wanted, so his Dad tried to keep him safe because of guilt for rather having his mother back, instead of him.

Tears burned behind Alan's eyes again, hurt warring with anger. To distract himself, he pulled himself up to look out the tiny window. He could see the window of his dorm room from here. Fermat was gone. Probably to class. Alan checked his watch. Geez, an hour had passed already since he came up here. He was supposed to be in class too. His Dad would kill him if he knew he cut . . .

Alan stopped that train of thought cold. So what. Nothing he did was apparently going to be right anyway. Today had certainly shown him that. Serves them right. Alan sank back on the stack of drop cloths he'd piled in here for a comfortable nest. It was nice and warm, and he didn't want to think anymore. Frankly, it just hurt to much. And anything he'd could touch on just led back the conversation he'd heard. He tried to blank his mind. The warmth of the late spring afternoon gradually relaxed him as the small space warmed comfortably. And before he knew it, he was asleep.

TB TB TB TB TB

"Are you a complete IDIOT?" John Tracy thundered over the vidphone link from Thunderbird 5.

Even though he was expecting in, Scott still winced. He pinched his nose and rubbed his eyes against a growing headache. "Do me a favor and drop it a couple of decibels, will ya?"

John ignored his older siblings comment and continued his tirade. I can't believe you were so incredibly STUPID . . . Jeez, Scott, you had to have been acting like you were twelve or something. I didn't believe Dad when he called me. . . "

Scott spoke up more forcefully. "John. Shut. Up."

"No, I will not shut up!" John shot back. Scott looked back at his angry brother in mild awe. It wasn't often they saw him this worked up. It was . . . impressive. But that still didn't stop Scott from raising his voice to cut through the outburst. "I've had the pleasure of hearing this already from Dad, ok? I just wanted to know if you'd heard from Alan. That's all!" Scott rubbed his temples harder. "I really don't need another lecture. I'm kicking myself plenty enough for all of us right now as it is."

John clamped his mouth shut to still the angry flow of words at his older brother's comments. Scott truly did look awful. But John was still at a loss as to what he had heard from his father earlier. Jeff had called him to see if he had heard from Alan, as he couldn't raise him. He had filled John in fully. John had been trying to raise Alan himself every since. He needed to talk to him now! They'd all ribbed each other mercilessly over the years, but never, ever, had they been needlessly cruel. John couldn't even imagine the monumental unkindness of what Alan had overheard. Fifteen was tough age anyway. Not really a child, not yet an adult. And in the Tracy family, well, John thought it would probably be especially hard. Then to hear what he had heard coming from of all of them, but especially Scott. Scott had been the glue holding them together following their mother's death, helping their Dad practically raise the younger of the group. John knew how Alan looked up to Scott, and Scott was so protective of all of them, especially Alan.

"Scott," Scott looked up in surprise at the John's change in tone. "Please tell me you didn't mean what you said. I mean about Mom . . . and Alan . . ." John stumbled over his words before giving up.

Scott gave a deep sigh. He was deeply embarrassed that anybody really had to ask. But after this afternoon . . . well, John deserved an answer. "No. No, John, I didn't. Doesn't mean I haven't thought it in the past, when I was especially pissed off at Alan, or missing Mom right after she died." John raised his eyebrows at Scott's language, but didn't interrupt. "Gordon and Virgil basically told Dad the same thing. Just random, thoughtless words, with maybe a snippet of truth behind them from long ago, born out of exhaustion and frustration. Like when Dad couldn't look at Alan at times when he was little because he reminded him of losing Mom. But never because he didn't want Alan. Never, ever that!" he finished firmly.

John nodded. "I know what you mean." He paused. "And thanks, I needed to hear that."

Scott snorted. "The one who needs to hear that right now is Alan. And we can't raise him. I've been trying the landlines to the school and they can't find him either! You know Dad just left for the school about fifteen minutes ago?" John nodded. Scott continued, "I was just hoping that maybe you'd heard from him . . ." He trailed off, guilt palpable around him.

They were silent a moment, then John asked quietly, "Did Dad really ream you out?"

"Oh, yeah," Scott answered. The dressing down he and his brothers had received was like nothing he had heard in a long, long time. "It was . . . amazing."

John grinned knowingly. "Long time since you've been on the receiving end of one of Dad's lectures, Scotty."

"It could have been a lot longer yet to suite me," Scott agreed bluntly.

"How are Virgil and Gordon?"

"Making themselves scarce. Gordon went to the beach to swim and Virgil for a run. They're pretty ashamed of themselves, and worried about Alan."

There was another quiet moment. This time Scott broke the silence asking idly, "So what was Dad talking to Alan about anyway?"

John shook his head and gave a soft snort. "Apparently Alan had screwed up and forgotten to turn in an important assignment in his Science class. He has to do an extra credit paper in order to pass. He had decided to do it on Dad's space career and needed to get some information. Alan called Dad himself and told him."

Scott raised his eyebrows. "Really. Usually it's the teachers who call and then it's so late he's about to flunk."

"Nope," John answered, "This time it was Alan, 'fessing up. Dad leaned on him, of course. You know Dad. But I could tell he was pretty proud of him for coming clean."

"Poor kid," Scott replied. "We must seem like a hard act to follow."

"NOW," John commented pointedly. "But when you were Alan's age, geez, the dirt I've got on you . . ." He grinned knowingly at his older brother.

"Don't start," Scott pointed his finger sternly in the direction of his sniggering brother. "It goes both ways, buddy. But at least we didn't blow up a school like Alan did."

"Chemistry lab, "John automatically corrected. "But you came pretty darn close as I recall. Remember when . . ."

"Stop right there!" Scott sat straight up and held up a warning hand. "I know what you're going to say John Tracy, and don't you say one word! I think Dad's finally forgotten. I don't want anybody to remind him, anymore that I want Alan or Gordon hearing about it!"

John was laughing so hard he could hardly talk. "I'll BET you don't. Dad had to replace the whole computer system at that school when you were finished with it, and it's probably the first school ever to expel you, tell Dad to take Virgil and I to another school as well, and tomake sure that no Tracy ever darkened their door again." John grinned at his glowering brother. "How did you ever keep it from Gordon, anyway? I know you threatened me and Virgil with death, but how Gordy never head about it is beyond me."

"Magic," Scott said dryly.

"Hey Scott, do you think Alan ever realized how much trouble you got into at his age?" John asked.

Scott did have to break into a grin at that. "No, I don't think so. And I'd just assume he didn't. Dad wouldn't want him getting any ideas. He's creative enough on his own as it is."

John laughed. "No doubt. And anyway, he and Gordon, together, are a force to be reckoned with."

Scott grinned. "Besides, it would undermine my authority."

John snorted. "Like this didn't?"

Both brothers sobered immediately as they thought about the their current situation.

"Poor Alan," John finally murmured.

"Yeah, poor kid. Hope Dad finds him soon. I owe him one big apology," Scott said dejectedly.

"Oh yeah. You and two others," John confirmed.

"You know, once we apologize and he gets over it, Alan's going to milk this for all it's worth. You just watch," Scott warned.

John grinned. "Yep. And he'll have something to prove, that's for sure. . ." A sudden, unwelcome thought hit him. "Scott," he began slowly, "you don't think . . . I mean Alan isn't going to sulk. That just isn't his nature. He'll go on the offensive and fight back. You don't think that he'd try to prove . . ." John trailed off.

Scott lifted horrified eyes to his brother's, and finished his sentence. "That he's not a 'mistake' or a 'screw-up'. That he can do anything all on his own? That he can hold his own and accomplish something without us? I think that he just might."

John finished up quietly. "And making it a point of pride that he's better than us by running away and being able to stay in hiding indefinitely until he does whatever he decides to do and proved his point."

Scott uttered an explosive obscenity. "It fits, it really fit's, doesn't it? And he'd have the confidence because he took on the Hood this last Spring break. He was dammed lucky then. And he's had lots of practice in avoidance techniques, too."

John added, "from four of the best. And most creative." He thought a moment, then added in concern, "Think Dad has already thought of this?"

Thinking back over the last scant two hours, and his father's reactions, Scott frowned. First, Jeff had frantically tried to reach Alan, then he had laid a remarkably fast, though very, very through dressing down of his three errant sons. Then, in a shorter time than had seemed possible, he was on a plane to the mainland having brusquely turned down all tentative offers of assistance and accompaniment from his sons. He'd left Scott with instructions to keep trying Alan's vidphone. All in all, it was much faster than Scott had ever seen his father work on something like this before. Like maybe he was afraid this would be the last straw for Alan. The seemingly unrelated pieces now fit a nice, neat pattern. "Johnny," Scott said slowly, "I think that Dad's way ahead of us on this one."

TB TB TB TB TB

Alan woke up nearly 3 hours later. Awareness came quickly, as well as a knot in his stomach as he remember the aftermath of the conversation he'd heard. That's what he got for trying to live up to the Tracy reputation. He'd been doing his homework, trying to be more responsible. He'd even called his father and confessed about the missing paper, and what he was planning to do about it. His father had lectured him, just as he'd expected, but had agreed to get him the information he'd wanted. Then in had walked his brother's, and another bombshell was dropped on him.

Alan's stomach turned at the memory. 'Mistake'. The word echoed with new meanings. To distract himself, Alan sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and looked outside. He felt his jaw drop in absolute disbelief.

In front of his dorm, exiting from the school's chauffeured limousine, and being greeted excessively by the ubiquitous Headmaster, was Jeff Tracy himself. Fermat trotted down the stairs to meet him. Alan shut his mouth with an audible snap. Jeff Tracy NEVER came to school functions. Usually Lady Penelope or one of his brothers came when term was over. But his father never put in a personal visit unlessAlan was in trouble. He watched in disbelief as Jeff put a hand on Fermat's shoulder, said something to the Headmaster, then turned back to Fermat. Fermat nodded, pointed towards their dorm, and with Jeff following, headed that way with the Headmaster trailing.

Alan lay back to think about this latest development. His father was here. No brothers. And the Headmaster was present. It all added up to one thing. He was in trouble again. What this time? Alan racked his brains. Well, hanging up on his father the way he did was definitely a problem, but that wouldn't warrant a visit. Skipping class, and, oh yeah, that dammed paper. That had to be it. Flunking Science. That absolutely meant a surprise parental visit.

So now what. Here he was, the 'mistake' of the family, screwing up again. Alan recalled his brother's words. "He screws up everything." Well not anymore. He'd show them. He'd prove he wasn't just somebody's mistake. Alan folded his arms behind his head and indulged in some daydreaming. He'd become famous, all on his own. Like International Rescue, but with his name. He wouldn't be anonymous. Maybe, like, oh, racing cars or something. All of his brothers would show up when he won something important, and then he could ignore them all for a change. Soctt who? Oh, yeah, I do have a brother, don't I.

Suddenly, Alan's daydreams were broken by the realization that he'd already made a decision. He sat up, thinking hard. A decision to a question he hadn't realized he was even asking. He wasn't going to sit through another lecture from his father, or teasing from his brothers for another suspension. He was done. He was going to run.