THREE
Shawn stood in the midst of a hundred people, fingering the sign that hung around his neck. As eager as he was to return to normality, it still seemed strange to be numbered and labeled. Like an orphan, watching the train take off and eyeing the expectant faces of the strangers about him. Hoping his hair was combed and he looked nice enough to find a new home.
Susan Farrell should be in the crowd-somewhere. Shawn searched the noisy throng for his brother's familiar thatch of blond hair. He turned, in slow circles, wondering if they didn't recognize him. He looked the same-or so he thought. But Danny-Danny would have aged three years. The returnee caught his breath in excitement. Keeping his sign free with one hand, fellow 4400's away with the other. Swimming through the sea of faces.
After half an hour, Shawn felt his legs starting to ache from the nervous pacing. He wanted a drink of water, but daren't leave in case he missed his family's appearance. And he wasn't alone. A few people were receiving phone calls. Some were openly crying. Flagging down transportation. He'd have to do something soon.
"You want a ride somewhere? I'm heading out."
"Oh, thanks. I'm still waiting."
"Could keep on waiting. Maybe they've forgotten about you."
Shawn smiled at the middle aged woman. He'd spoken to her only briefly before. "It's been a few years. Not longer."
"People move on. It's surprising how quickly someone steps into your place. Out there, the world hasn't stopped. We have."
"I think it'll be okay." Shawn studied the broad, friendly features, wondering what 1319 was thinking.
"Don't waste your time on me, youngster. You have a lot of catching up to do. I hope your folks get here soon."
He smiled, still rather shy around the woman. Always feeling as if she could read his mind. "Thanks."
"Maybe we'll run into each other some day. Then you'll be the one helping me."
Shawn caught the stare in those soft gray eyes, nodded a goodbye. He didn't even know her name, but she was studying his face with calm assurance. Approving. Feeling uncomfortably like he'd passed some test, Shawn Farrell slipped his arms into his jacket sleeves. Susan would be here soon. He'd be waiting.
X
He could have asked for a phone call. Bus fare. Anything.
Shawn didn't want to. He strode out of the building right before the final cluster dispersed, afraid he wouldn't be allowed to leave if he was last. Wanting to get away. Maybe Susan had forgot. The day. Or Danny got lost, or one of them was sick, or-
He'd run out of excuses. The moon was peeping over the slender trees gracing the sidewalk. If he thought about dinner, he was hungry.Shawn was just too busy thinking about his mother and brother.
Three days ago he'd been confined to bed. Now his nervous energy was dwindling, replaced by a sick, empty hope that he might see two familiar headlights winking up the street. After a half mile, he paused to rest. There was an wrought iron bench, damp and paint peeled. Once upon a time it must have been green.
Shawn nicked his thumbnail against a patch of papery paint, relaxing stiff limbs. Deep breaths of misty air.
The bench wasn't half bad. He was so tired, he could almost have fallen asleep if a moth hadn't crawled up his pant leg.
A car wound around the curve, but it was unfamiliar. And coming from the wrong direction.
Surprisingly, it braked to a stop just past the lone figure.
"Hey, Shawn. Get in."
Figures. Uncle Tommy.
He was too tired to care.
X
Tom Baldwin set his coffee in the cupholder, hitting the unlock button. His nephew slid into the leather seat, long legged, familiar denim jacket and orange shirt. It accented the dullness in his nephew's face, the dark shadows that made his eyes seem big as Bambi's.
Looks could be oh so deceiving. Shawn was the stubborn one.
"Hey."
"Hey, Uncle Tommy."
"I stopped by to pick you up, but you'd already left. Glad I noticed you."
"Well, sleeping in the open wouldn't have done me any harm. I've been shut up for so long..."
"You shouldn't be tramping around at night."
" I Suppose."
Shawn let his head fall against the seat rest. He was practically drunk on fresh air and exertion.
"I'm taking you back to my place."
"I'd rather just go home, if you don't mind."
"My place, tonight. Your mother's expecting you tomorrow."
"But I left a message. She knew I was getting out today."
"Tomorrow you can go home. Okay?"
Shawn's mouth tightened. "Is this one of your plans, Uncle Tommy? More-"
"No. I'm taking you back. You're going to bed."
"That's all."
"Uh-hu. Oh, you have to brush your teeth and use the bathroom."
"Very funny."
Tom knew that his passenger was impatient to know the whole story. He doubted his nephew would ask, Shawn's obstinate pride beating curiosity every time.
"What's, like, the real reason I can't go home, Uncle Tommy?"
Well, some thingshad changed.
Baldwin clearly remembered how sharp his sister's son was. Debated whether or not to tell the truth tonight.
"And I don't want some piece of fiction."
Dark eyes following every movement. Tom sighed, loosening the top button of his shirt. Drummed the wheel.
"Look, Shawn, you have to understand the circumstances. Susan was really glad when she heard you'd come back. Danny was, too. It's been three years. Three years with both of them thinking you'd took off or died or worse."
Shawn frowned. "What could be worse?"
"You have a point there." Tom scanned the road, turning right at a red light. It bought him some time. "Your mother isn't single anymore, Shawn. I don't know how to tell you this any better way." Refusing to meet the questioning gaze.
"Who is he?" Shawn's voice was flat.
"A pretty decent guy. Used to go to school with him. His name's Joe, Joe Gifford."
"That's great."
"Forget the false enthusiasm, Shawn. You don't have to pretend with me."
"No. No, it's good. She shouldn't be alone." He cleared his throat. "Thanks, Uncle Tommy. I can see why you didn't want to spring it on me. But mom could have told me, she knows I wouldn't be upset. If it's what she really wanted."
"There's more." Tom sighed. He caught the lukewarm coffee in one hand, belatedly remembering the cocoa beside it. "Drink this."
"Thanks." Shawn took a tentative sip, but it was cooled down. He caught a half dissolved marshmallow with his tongue.
"Joe has a problem with the 4400's. It's not uncommon; I mean, a lot of folks are pretty freaked out, you know. Ball of light in the sky-the only reason I could wrap my head around it at first is because of you. I could see that you were normal, same old Shawn. Other people don't know that."
"So how long is it going to take?" Shawn's sat forward. "I mean, with Joe?"
"Your mom doesn't know. You can hang out at my place for awhile, ease into your old life. Just let people see you're no different than they are."
"Easier said than done," Shawn mumbled.
"And Joe has a son. Exactly your age-well, if you count the years you were missing. You're probably going to have to share a bedroom with Danny. Or take the guest room"
"I see."
"His name is Colin."
"Fill in brother and son."
"Danny and Colin are pretty close, but that sibling of yours is glad you're back. Trust me."
"Your favorite word, Uncle Tommy."
"My favorite smart-mouthed nephew." Tom undid his seatbelt. "Let's get you settled in."