CHAPTER 12: FOSTER
The next day found Sparhawk and Jonathan riding once again in his car, this time out of the city proper. As the buildings and bustle began to thin out around them, Sparhawk asked Jonathan where they were going. "It's a house out in the suburbs. Little Whinging, Surrey." This prompted a question as to what suburbs were. Bless his little child's body. He was allowed, expected even to ask all the questions he wanted. "Hmm...Let's see. You know what cities are, right? You see, some people don't like to live in all that hustle and bustle. So they go outside the city, not too far though, and they live in places a bit more quiet and green. The suburbs." Curse this little child body of his. People were always trying to dumb down things for him. But it might be a good thing, as he was, essentially, a child when it came to the knowledge of his current situation.
"There's a sweet old lady there, a Mrs. Adelaide Baker. She'll be taking care of you for a little while until we can find your family or failing that, somewhere more permanent. Oh, and there is no .", he added as an afterthought. Sparhawk brooded on that for a while. Truth be told, at the pace things were progressing, he'd almost forgotten that the kid might have a real family. A crucial oversight. He could be content with being himself around a woman who knew next to nothing about the kid, but could he do that to his real parents? If they were ever reunited, and seeing this world's care about its children, it seemed a real possibility, could he bring himself to poach the kid's parents? To lie to them all through his life here?
Even before he asked himself that question, Sparhawk knew he would. The Pandions had always been a pragmatic order, willing to do what was needed. He had lived a lie before, with Lillias during his exile in Rendor. Shouldn't be difficult now. Hell, he wouldn't even have to pretend to be somebody else; with his excuse of amnesia, he could just go on being himself. And the parents would be ecstatic about getting their kid back. Probably. And besides, according to Aphrael, him being there in this body meant the original owner had probably taken a permanent vacation of sorts. He was doing a service here. But still, something... just didn't sit right with him. Well, that feeling would pass.
As Sparhawk was lost in thought, Jonathan slowed down, pulling into a driveway in front of a rather nice, solid-looking house. The architecture was, obviously, wildly different from what Sparhawk was used to, but there was something there. Something that was like a warm fire at the end of a cold winter's day. Something that felt welcoming...a bit like Aslade's little cottage. It didn't matter what styles houses were built in. You could always tell when something was a home as opposed to just a house.
"We're here," said Jonathan, turning off the engine (Oh, Jonathan hadn't even tried to explain what that was. He'd been told he could read) and getting out. Sparhawk fumbled just a moment before remembering the way this particular door opened and slid out a moment later. He'd always been a fast learner.
"Alright, let's have a look at you." said Jonathan, coming to stand in front of him, "First impressions are important after all." Sparhawk bit back a probably childish retort about not needing mothering and let the man smooth out his clothes and try in vain to get his hair smoothed out before giving it up as a lost cause. "Well, that's about okay." And he rang the bell.
An elderly woman, slender, and somehow straight despite her age answered the door, wearing loose pants and a sleeveless vest of some sort. Was this what she wore at home or was she dressed up for the occasion? The current fashions would certainly take some getting used to. At the sight of the two of them, her face split into a smile, her eyes nearly disappearing in a nest of smile lines. "Well, well, well, look who's here. Come in, come in."
Jonathan gave her a fond smile and ushered Sparhawk inside. Once inside, she shut the door and turned to look at Jonathan. "You're getting fat, Jon." she said, critically, "Didn't I teach you how to keep in shape?" Jonathan laughed and enveloped her in a huge bear hug. "Oh, Ma Baker! I come home after so long and that's all the welcome I get? And aren't you supposed to say something about how I've lost weight and haven't I been eating enough and such?"
"I believe in the value of honesty, Jon," she said wryly but returned the hug nonetheless. "And what has the prodigal son brought as a homecoming gift?" she asked turning to Sparhawk.
"A foundling, of sorts." replied Jonathan, pushing Sparhawk forward, "Go on, tell her your name."
Sparhawk who had been watching the touching reunion, for what else could it be, gave a little bow (well, well, well. Seemed all the hours his wife spent trying to drill some pleasantries into him did pay off) "Sparhawk."
She seemed to wait for more and he belatedly realized that people here seemed to have two parts to a name. The last apparently denoted family or some such, he assumed. Well it was either that or Nurse Joy was a really happy man and Jonathan Stag would be turning into an antlered herbivore. Well, he had, ostensibly, a loss of memory, so people wouldn't begrudge him, right?
Fortunately, Jonathan came to his rescue. As they made their way to the living room, he explained Sparhawk's rather unusual situation to the woman who seemed to melt "Oh, the poor thing" she sighed. Sparhawk hated sympathy of any sort, but in this case, it would probably work in his favour as he could probably ask all sorts of questions that would sound highly unusual in other circumstances."Yeah," Jonathan agreed. "We're not even sure if Sparhawk really is his name. I think he picked it up from some of the kiddies' books they have in the Hospital. But I was rather pressed for time and he seems to respond to it, so I went with it." he confessed.
"Well, there's nothing to be done for that. And besides, I think it's a wonderful name, if somewhat unusual.", she said, smiling at Sparhawk. For his part, Sparhawk gave her one of the best smiles he could. He wasn't really big on them, but he guessed that would be what a child would do on hearing the same. And besides, she was a nice old woman. But, on the other hand, he hadn't heard anyone discuss his name so. Maybe he would look it up sometime later.
They were seated down on a nice couch, oh so soft! Furniture had come a really long way if the common people could afford such comfort. After having some hot cocoa pressed into their hands, she came to sit next to him, while Jonathan shifted to a nearby chair and opened his little case bringing out some forms. Sparhawk watched as she took them and ripped through them with practiced ease. Made easier by yet another wonderful invention, the pen. It glided across the smooth paper (so much better than parchment) with nary a blot or scratch and very soon she was handing them over to Jonathan who stuffed them back.
"Well, I'd love to stay for lunch, but duty calls. Bye-bye, Sparhawk. With 's luck, you can probably expect to find your memory and your parents by next Thursday and be out of the old lady's hair." She gave him a playful rap on his head. "You lasted a good while, I seem to recall." "I was lucky. And times were changing, Ma Baker," he replied, eyes smiling and turned to leave. "Well Jonathan, you never know," she said, turning to smile at Sparhawk. "Maybe he'll be the one who stays.
A/N: As always read and review. I look forward to whatever you have to say with the utmost anticipation.
