Scott heaved himself over the bluff and continued running at breakneck speed down the track on the other side. He could see some of the buildings of his home's complex and he managed to push a bit more speed out of his legs.
He'd almost reached the bottom of the outside stairway when Gordon and John stepped out and intercepted him.
"What are you doing?" Scott gasped, dragging in great lungfuls of air. He leant on Gordon for support. "I thought I told you to take Thunderbird Two and go!"
"It's not an International Rescue problem," Gordon told him anxiously. "It's… well it's a Tracy problem."
John nodded with a trifle too much emphasis.
Scott frowned. "What do you mean? Why'd Father use the emergency call out alarm if it's nothing to do with International Rescue? What's so important?" He straightened up.
"It's Virgil," Gordon told him.
"Virgil? What's happened!"
"He's gone crazy, Scott," John said.
"Crazy? What do you mean?"
"He's… He's…" John said lamely as his mind went blank.
Gordon frowned at him "His whole personality's changed."
"Changed? How?" Scott was starting to get worried.
"It's like… he's gone all aggressive."
"Aggressive? Virgil? But he wouldn't hurt a fly. Even with the amnesia… well apart from a couple of days ago… But then he thought he was defending himself..." Scott thought quickly. "What does Brains say?"
"Brains… ah…" even Gordon's quick wit couldn't formulate a suitable reply.
"We didn't get the chance to talk to him," John said quickly. "Virgil wouldn't let get near him us." He frowned and reworked the sentence. "I mean… Virgil wouldn't let us get near him."
Gordon nodded, as much in approval of John's reply as in agreement.
"What's Father say?"
"Same story," Gordon said and John nodded frantically again. Gordon surreptitiously nudged him and he stopped.
"Has he hurt anyone?" By now Scott was getting really worried.
"No… Not yet," Gordon told him. "But he's looking for you."
"For me? Why?"
Gordon shrugged. "I dunno. I just know that he's frightening at the moment."
"He's had Grandma in tears," John added helpfully.
"That's right," Gordon agreed.
"And Tin-Tin," John was beginning to gain some confidence in the tale they were spinning.
"Yes," Gordon said
"Grandma was crying on my shoulder," John added with enthusiasm.
"Thanks, John," Gordon said pointedly. "Scott's got the picture."
"Sorry."
"Oh, heck," Scott said. "Where is he?"
"Last time we saw him he was in the lounge," Gordon supplied.
Scott looked upwards towards the patio. "I guess I'd better get up there. Are you two coming?"
"Are you kidding?" Gordon exclaimed. "He hates me. I'm terrified of him at the moment. He's remembered the dumb things I said the other day." Gordon opened his eyes wider in an approximation of fear. "I think I heard him say something about getting to me before I had the chance to get to him."
"What!"
"I know. It's out of character isn't it? That's what makes it all the more frightening. If he's got a knife or some other weapon I'm staying well clear." Gordon turned to his other brother. "Do you know if the laser cabinet's locked up, John?"
"Laser cabinet! Uh, um, ah, dunno."
Scott looked at John. "And why are you here?"
"I'm… ah… er… I'm acting as Gordon's bodyguard," John's newly acquired confidence was deserting him.
"What about the rest of the family?" Scott asked him. "Who's protecting them?"
"It's only me he seems to have it in for," Gordon supplied.
"Well, the both of you," John told his older brother.
"You're the only one who's got a chance of calming him down, Scott," Gordon pleaded. "You succeeded yesterday. You've got to do something."
"Me…? But he wasn't out to get me yesterday!" Scott looked back up to the patio reluctantly. "Is he armed?"
John shook his head. "No… Well he wasn't… I don't think so…"
"Please, Scott. You've got to try," Gordon begged. "I daren't go back in there!"
"Okay. I've got the picture. It is Virgil we're talking about, isn't it? He wouldn't hurt me…" Scott took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "Would he?" he finished uncertainly.
"No," Gordon said as if the idea was ludicrous. "You're bigger and stronger than him. You'd be able to disarm him first."
John gave Gordon a warning look.
Scott didn't see it. He was looking upwards again. "Okay. Wish me luck, and I'll see you two later." He pushed between his brothers and started running up the stairs.
Gordon and John gave each other a quiet high-five and started to tiptoe after him.
Scott stopped just short of the patio and ducked down so he was able to look into the room without being seen. From here he could see most of the family.
All except Virgil.
He couldn't believe what he'd been told, but then a lot of strange things had happened over the past month.
He up got the confidence to walk into the lounge. He didn't notice Gordon and John surreptitiously follow him in and hide behind an oriental screen.
Jeff and Mrs Tracy, Tin-Tin and Brains were in a huddle behind Jeff's desk.
"Where is he?" Scott asked.
Jeff jumped as if he'd been startled. "Oh! It's you, Scott. Thank heavens. I thought it might have been Virgil."
"Gordon and John have briefed me. How bad is he?"
Jeff shook his head sadly. "I've never seen him like this. I wouldn't have thought it possible…"
"Not dear, sweet, harmless Virgil," Grandma sniffed.
Tin-Tin looked at Brains. It was clear from where Gordon had inherited his gift of trickery.
"Are you all okay?" Scott asked.
"A little shaken," Jeff told him. "But he's done nothing to harm anyone… yet."
"Where's Gordon?" Mrs Tracy asked.
"Hiding outside," Scott told her. "He's okay. John's with him."
"Oh, thank heavens. The way Virgil went for him…" she let her sentence hang unfinished.
Scott swallowed and decided it was time to go on the attack. "Where is he, Alan?" he demanded.
Alan pretended to look at a scanner. "He's close, Scott, and he's got you in his sights. I'd be careful if I were you. Get away while you've got the chance…"
Virgil strode into the room. He was empty-handed. "Ah! There you are, Scott!"
"Too late," Alan said.
Scott turned to face his brother. "Virgil? What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? I've spent a month with amnesia and you're asking me what's wrong?" Virgil took a step towards Scott, his eyes boring into his brother's.
"No, I mean what's the matter now?"
"Nothing's the matter!" Virgil continued his menacing advance. "And I aim to keep it that way. I'm going to sort you out, Scott."
Scott took a defensive step backwards. "Let's talk, Virgil."
"There you go again. Always bossing people about. Well this time I'm giving the orders." Virgil continued to move forwards in a threatening manner.
Scott took another step backwards. "Fine," he said reassuringly. "I can live with that."
"You'd better, Scott Tracy." Virgil pushed Scott in the chest and forced him to take another step backwards. "You think you can intimidate me? Well, let me tell you, Brother, that the boot's on the other foot. It's my turn to intimidate you," Virgil gave Scott a another push and once again Scott found himself moving backwards, this time at a faster rate.
"I've only pretended to be intimidating to help you, Virgil," Scott protested as he continued his backward progression. "I wanted to make sure that you had something to eat. I don't want to hurt you."
"Help me, huh? Is that what you thought you were doing?" Virgil stabbed at Scott with his finger.
Scott stumbled up the step that marked the upper level of the lounge. "Virgil…"
"You think you're so tough, with your big muscles and commanding manner. But I'll tell you, Brother, you don't frighten me."
"I've never wanted to frighten you, Virgil." Scott was pushed backwards again. He found himself pressed up against the piano. He had nowhere to go. He was trapped.
"I know exactly what you're like, Scott, and you're nothing but a big pussycat."
Scott was being forced into the piano. He leant backwards trying to keep his distance from his brother. "Virgil…" he protested.
Virgil kept leaning forwards. He had both arms positioned on either side of Scott, palms flat against the glossy white surface, pinning his sibling to the instrument. "I know how soft you are, Brother. I know how you tucked the sheets up under Chip Morrison's chin when we smuggled him back into his house after he'd stowed away in Thunderbird Two."
Scott could feel the edge of the piano digging into his back, but was powerless to escape. They were practically nose-to-nose. "Virgil…" he protested again.
"I remember it was the exact same way that you used to do it to Alan and Gordon…"
Something clicked in Scott's mind. "Virgil?"
"… And me when we were children."
"Virgil?" Scott queried again in wonder.
Virgil raised an eyebrow in amusement. "That's my name. Don't wear it out."
Scott twisted his head sideways so he could see his family. They'd been joined by Gordon, John, and Kyrano and were all grinning at his predicament. He looked back into Virgil's gentle brown eyes. "You remember?"
"I remember, Scott."
"How much?"
"Oh, I'd say pretty much… everything. And don't scratch my pian-oof!" The last syllable was squeezed out of Virgil as Scott let out a cry of pleasure and grabbed him about the chest in a bear hug. "Ouch! Steady on! I've just recovered from amnesia. I don't want broken ribs!"
"Sorry," Scott loosened his grip. "This is wonderful, Virgil! Really, really great!"
"Yeah, isn't it," Virgil said dryly.
"I can't believe it."
"If you can believe that little story we just spun, you'll believe anything, Scott."
"You sure had me going. Why'd you do that?"
"Ask Gordon," Virgil suggested. "It was his idea."
"Figures." Scott smiled broadly at Virgil and smothered him in another hug. "This is so great that I'm even willing to let Gordon live after convincing you all to pull a stunt like that."
"Told you," Virgil said when he'd released himself from Scott's grasp. "Pussycat."
"So…" Gordon grinned. "Are you happy, Scott?"
"Happy would be an understatement. When'd you come right, Virgil?"
"I think I was starting to remember things while I had that headache." Virgil shrugged. "Then I went to sleep, woke up and felt better than I have for a month."
Scott looked at him in wonder. "I can't believe it," he said again.
Virgil smiled at him. "You'd better believe it, 'cause I'm planning on hanging onto these memories. Amnesia is not an experience I want to repeat." He turned away from his brothers. "So, Father. When can I fly Thunderbird Two again?"
"We've definitely got the old Virgil back," John chuckled.
"Do you feel up to it?" Brains asked.
"More than I have done for the last month." Virgil looked expectantly at his father.
For the first time Jeff's smile slipped off his face. "I think we should take things slowly, Virgil."
Virgil looked disappointed.
Scott stepped in quickly. "What if I were to go too?"
"Want to keep an eye on me?" Virgil asked with a grin.
"Yes! Is there anything wrong with that?" Scott challenged.
"Absolutely nothing. Anyone else want to come?"
"Try to stop us." Gordon said.
"You know, Jeff. We could all go and have a picnic lunch somewhere," Mrs Tracy suggested.
"You know I don't like using our craft for joy rides. Still…" Jeff looked at Virgil's face. There was no way he could resist his newly restored son. "I guess rules are made to be broken."
"Great!" Virgil was beaming.
"In that case, Kyrano and I have some work to do," Mrs Tracy slapped her hands together in anticipation.
"Yes, Mrs Tracy," Kyrano inclined his head with a smile and followed her out of the room.
Tin-Tin gave Alan an affectionate look and trailed after her father to help with preparations.
"Mind showing me your skills on the simulator before we try out the real thing?" Scott asked Virgil.
"No, I don't mind. To tell you the truth I wouldn't mind reassuring myself that I remember how to operate her correctly."
"'Her'! He called Thunderbird Two 'Her'. I love it!" Gordon sang happily.
"Okay then. Come on, Virgil." Scott had started walking past his father's desk. He saw some papers poking out from underneath. "You've lost a file." He picked it up intending to put it back on the desk.
"That was Gordon's fault," Jeff explained. "Throw them in the bin, Scott. I don't need those particular documents anymore… In fact," he held out his hand, "give them to me. I wouldn't mind the pleasure of discarding them myself."
But Scott had inadvertently glanced at the first page. Now he was reading the file incredulously. "I don't believe this!"
"Believe what?" Alan asked.
"This… This…" Scott's tone darkened. He glared at his father. "You weren't seriously thinking of doing this were you?"
"Doing what?" Intrigued John looked over his brother's shoulder at the documents.
"I didn't want to…" Jeff began.
John gasped. "But that's… that's…" words failed him.
"Unthinkable, is the word I think you're trying to say," Scott growled.
"That's what I thought…" Jeff tried to say.
"How could you even consider it?" Scott voice had grown in volume.
"What is it?" Gordon asked. Scott bent the cover back and handed it to him. His eyes skimmed over the first page. He grimaced in distaste.
"What is it?" Alan asked.
"Was this your suggestion, Brains?" Scott asked dangerously.
"I-I f-found the information a-and g-gave it t-to your f-father," Brains told him cautiously.
"And you were going to book Virgil in for it?" Scott turned back on Jeff.
"Me?" Virgil asked
"What is it?" Alan persisted.
"It's some kind of treatment for amnesia," John told him quietly. "It's not very pleasant."
"It's torture," Scott voice had increased in volume. "I can't believe you were considering it."
"That's why I…" Jeff started and was drowned out by Gordon.
"You were going to put him through this?"
"I know it's gruesome, but…"
"We wouldn't have let you," John told him.
"I admire your loyalty…" Jeff was starting to feel ganged up on by three of his sons, all of whose faces were various shades of red.
"You would have put Virgil through this over my dead body!" Scott shouted.
"Your father resisted…" Brains tried to come to his employers defence.
"How could you consider it!" Gordon waved the file under his father's nose.
"I'm surprised the medical ethics council allow it!" John stormed.
"What is it?" Alan asked, yelling to be heard over the tumult.
They were all shouting at once, none of them listening to any of the others, as each tried to put their point of view across.
A discordant sound interrupted them, causing them all to stop their strident yells and turn back to the piano.
"Thank you," Virgil said in the silence that followed. "Since it was literally my head on the line, would you mind if I had a read of what's in that folder?" He held out his hand to Gordon.
They all looked at him.
"I can read, you know," he reminded them.
"It's been so long since you could, that I'd forgotten that you can," Gordon admitted as he gave his brother the file.
Virgil looked at his family once more, before he opened the folder and began to read. He gave a low whistle. "Nasty," he said mildly.
"See!" Scott sprang to his defence again. "Father! How could you…!"
"Hold on, Scott!" Virgil raised his voice and his hand to arrest his brother's tirade. "You've got no idea what it's been like for me these last few weeks. Okay, so now the idea of this procedure is not particularly appealing. But a day ago I think I would have grabbed at the opportunity…"
"You would?" Scott asked in amazement.
Virgil nodded. "Anything to get some normalcy back. Of course if anyone had suggested it last week, I would have been convinced that you all were Gordon's 'aliens' and you were going to start your fiendish experiments on me!" He looked back at the contents of the folder, shuddered in horror and slammed the folder shut. He twisted it tightly into a knot and handed it back to his father. "Bin it!" he instructed.
"With pleasure," Jeff accepted the documents.
"Why don't we get the lasers," Gordon suggested. "Then we can all have fun blasting that file."
"Nothing like a little mindless violence to get rid of your aggressive tendencies," Virgil commented. "They're only harmless bits of paper, Gordon. They haven't done anything to you."
"It's the thought of what could have happened to you that riles me."
"I'm with you, Gordon," John said. "Coming, Brains?"
"Y-Yes, please," Brains readily agreed. "I haven't been able t-to sleep very well since I f-found that information."
"I'd rather get in that practise on the simulator," Virgil said. "Are you coming with me, Scott?"
"Yep. I don't want to see those papers ever again," Scott said. "Not even on fire."
"Virgil…" Alan said and reddened when his brother looked at him. "I'm… I… Um… Can we talk later? In private? I have a few things I want to… I need to… get off my chest."
Virgil gave him a gentle smile. "Sure. Maybe I'll come up too when you're due to come back from Thunderbird Five… Unless you want to talk sooner."
Alan's colouring had deepened to scarlet. "I think... maybe... sooner would be a good idea."
"Okay, Alan. I'll call you tonight."
Scott tugged at his brother's sleeve. "We're wasting time, Virgil. If you want to fly us somewhere for lunch, you're going to have to convince me you're up to it."
Virgil grinned. "Lead on, Bossy."
"We'll meet back here when lunch is ready, Boys," Jeff instructed. Twisting the file in an even tighter knot he started towards the patio doors.
"Father!" Scott caught his arm. "Sorry for yelling at you like that."
Jeff smiled. "It's okay, Scott. I've been feeling like you did for the last three weeks or so. I was trying to pluck up the courage to talk to Virgil about it, when he dropped this welcome bombshell on me." Still smiling he looked back at Virgil. "You've no idea how glad I am that I don't have to explain all this to you. I had no idea how you were going to react. I never thought you'd be in agreement."
"Life's full of surprises," Virgil said.
"Isn't it," Jeff agreed. "And some are better than others."
Thunderbird Two sat on top of a grassy knoll, her outline concealed from above by various camouflage devices. The Tracys and their friends were stretched out on the grass nearby digesting their lunch.
They'd brought a portable version of a communicator portrait, which they set up in the space between Tin-Tin and Gordon. "Tell us about International Rescue's first rescue, Virgil," Alan begged. "Tell us how you ended up upside-down in the Elevator Car."
Virgil groaned. "Haven't I remembered enough for you guys? I want to do something to remember the here and now." He sat up, rummaged about in his bag and pulled out his sketchpad.
"Yeah, Alan," Gordon said. "Give us all a break." He tipped Alan's communicator forward so that the viewer was pointed into the ground.
"Gordon!" Alan complained into the grass.
"Gordon," Tin-Tin scolded. "Don't be mean." She stood the communicator back upright.
"Thanks, Honey," Alan said. "I wasn't enjoying that view."
Virgil looked at the stream that was bubbling past their picnic area and sketched it on his pad. "Remember how we used to fish in that creek when we were kids."
"Yeah," John said. "Did we ever catch anything?"
"I caught a cold once," Alan said. "Virgil'd pushed me in."
"I didn't push you, you slipped."
"I distinctly remember you pushing me."
"And I remember," Virgil said proudly, "reaching out to grab you. You probably thought I pushed you."
"And I remember," Scott said, from his position flat on his back in the grass beside Virgil, "pulling you out of the creek, Alan. You were naked and covered in slime." He put his hands behind his head, closed his eyes and allowed the sun to warm his face.
"W-Why didn't you have any clothes on, Alan?" Brains asked in interest.
Alan coloured slightly. "Blame Gordon."
"Was that the time that Gordon hid your clothes in the bushes?" John asked.
Gordon burst out laughing. "That was it. I told him there were mermaids in the creek, but they didn't like bright clothing."
Tin-Tin laughed. "And you believed him, Alan?"
"I was only a little kid," Alan shrugged. "I thought Gordon knew everything to do with water and the things that lived in there. I wanted to see a mermaid."
"And as soon as you got home you went running to Grandma," John chuckled. "And told her a mermaid tried to drown you and had stolen your clothes."
"I remember," Grandma Tracy said. "I remember looking at a certain red-headed tearaway and thinking 'I know exactly who that mermaid is'."
"At least you didn't try to blame me then, Alan" Virgil said as he drew a line on the page.
"I wouldn't have believed him anyway, Darling," his grandmother told him sweetly.
Virgil beamed at her. "Thanks, Grandma."
She sighed. "It sounds so wonderful to hear you call me Grandma, Virgil."
"Grandma, Grandma, Grandma!" Gordon chanted.
John cuffed him lightly over the head. "Shut up."
The five boys had been carrying on like this for the last half hour. During that time Jeff had listened benignly. At last he spoke. "Aren't you glad you didn't have any sons, Kyrano?" he asked. "Look what I had to put up with."
"Five times the trouble and five times the joy, Mr Tracy," Kyrano said sagely.
"You've got that right," Jeff agreed and stretched. The paper serviette he'd been holding blew out of his hand.
"I'll get that!" Virgil placed his drawing implements on Scott's broad chest and raced after the bit of rubbish.
"What am I? A table?" Scott griped.
"You're built like one," Alan told him.
"You'll keep, Alan," Scott said mildly. "A month isn't that long. I'll see to you when you get back."
"Ha! You'll have forgotten by then," Alan teased.
"I just realised something," John sat up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "We'll never get the opportunity to see if our theories were right."
"What theories?" Virgil asked as he returned to his place.
"We think we worked out what triggered off those panic attacks of yours. And, despite Scott's protests to the contrary, we think it was specific words and not him that caused them."
Scott raised himself up onto his elbows so he was able to look at his brother. The pad slid off his chest and onto the ground. "Words?"
"It just happened that it was you who said them," Alan said. "We were hoping to discover if it was your voice that was the trigger, or if anyone else could set Virgil off."
"You make me sound like a stick of dynamite," Virgil protested as he picked up and dusted off the sketchpad looking about as he did so. "Where's my pencil?" Scott found it and handed it to him.
"The way you blew your stack a couple of times, you behaved like one," Gordon reminded him.
"So," Scott asked, "what were these magical words?"
They all looked at Virgil with uncertainty.
"Come on," he said. "You've got me curious now. What were they?"
"Do you think we could trigger another attack?" John asked him.
"I doubt it. I feel fine."
"Are they common words?" Scott asked.
"Well, they're not uncommon," Gordon noted. "But around here they only seem to crop up once a month."
"Now, I'm really intrigued," Virgil said. "I'm willing to risk it. What are they?"
"Well…" John said slowly. "Basically… We think… It was anything that could be linked with that last rescue you were on."
"Oh." A cloud seemed to settle over Virgil. "I wish I could forget that."
Jeff placed a reassuring hand on Virgil's shoulder. "I think we need to know if Virgil's still got a problem. Is there any chance of this Brains?"
"I-I don't know. Without tests, it would be impossible to tell. I'd like to do some brain scans l-later, Virgil."
"What's the point of that? You couldn't find anything amiss when I had amnesia. Why should now be any different?" Virgil asked him.
"What do you mean, 'anything linked with that last rescue'?" Scott asked.
"Words that could be a reminder. We came to the conclusion that when you were showing Virgil Thunderbird Two," John said cautiously, "you said that the hangar door was hidden by…" He stopped.
"By the cliff face," Virgil finished thoughtfully. "You know, that rings a bell. I think I remember those words seemed almost… agitato."
"Agitato?" Grandma asked.
"H-How do you mean?" Brains asked.
"It's a musical term. It means agitated," Virgil explained. "It was as if they were reverberating inside my head, kind of echoing."
"But does it do that now?" Jeff asked.
"No," Virgil said honestly.
"But you're the only one who's said… the words," Alan pointed out. "What if someone else were to?"
"Well? Who's going to try?" Virgil asked.
They all looked at each other, none of them willing to be the one to take the risk.
Virgil sighed. "What do I have to do? Wait till one of you slips up and says it accidentally, or I hear it on the radio or TV?"
"Go on, John," Gordon prompted. "The idea of a trigger was your idea."
"But it was Alan who thought of cl… the phrase."
"For Pete's sake!" Virgil said in exasperation. "John, say it! Cliff face! It's not hard."
"Are you sure?"
Virgil groaned. "If someone doesn't say it soon I will change my personality and become aggressive for real."
"Okay." John looked at his brother. "Cliff face!"
Everyone looked at Virgil.
"Nothing," he said.
John relaxed. "Okay, Scott. It's your turn."
Scott eyed Virgil anxiously. "Are you sure about this?"
Virgil was becoming irritated. "Unless you want to spend the rest of your life talking to me in hand signals… Yes!"
"I don't like the idea of... Cliff face!" Scott looked at Virgil uneasily.
"What a fuss over nothing," Virgil stated. "Pass me another drink please, Tin-Tin."
Tin-Tin reached into the nearby basket and threw him an apple juice.
"So what other words were there?" Jeff asked.
"We figured that it could have been 'mudslide' and 'fall'," John said.
"I hate mudslides," Gordon stated. "The idea of being buried alive… yuck!" he shuddered.
"You boys saved a lot of lives at that rescue," Jeff reminded them gently. "Remember that."
Virgil snapped his fingers. "I just remembered something!"
"Only one thing?" Gordon asked. "I thought it was supposed to be everything?"
Virgil ignored him. Instead he slapped Scott lightly on the arm. "You were supposed to remind me!"
"Remind you about what?" Scott frowned in bemusement.
Virgil gave a dramatic sigh. "Just as well one of us has got a good memory. Remember, when I was coming back after my last flight! I told you you'd forget."
Scott was still frowning.
Virgil looked at his friend. "Brains. Do you think it would be possible to create an aircraft that we could suspend from the ceiling of a pod? One that could act as an air ambulance?"
"Oh, that!" Scott's frown cleared. "Now I remember. I told you to tie a bit of string around your finger to remind you to ask him."
"So that's what you've been trying to build with the Traceset," John exclaimed. "That's what the hooks were for; to suspend it from the pod. And the retractable wings were so it could be stored away!"
"H-How big, Virgil?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe big enough to hold four to six patients and a couple of medical staff. For those jobs where Thunderbird Two is too big."
Brains nodded in thought. "The idea has m-merit."
"You've already got a nearly working model," John said. "You'll have to show him when we get home."
"Ah, I can't," Virgil said in embarrassment. "I broke it… Things were getting on top of me," he explained at their inquisitive looks. "And I, um, threw it at the wall. I've ruined the wallpaper."
"That can be fixed," his father said. "All that matters is that you're back with us, Virgil."
He received a broad grin in reply. "And I'm never leaving again!"