Seven year old Ben Lendra sat on a stone bench outside the School Master's office, under the shade of an exterior hall, and swung his feet with impatience. His back leaned against the wall as if his spine had turned to gel and his fraying canvas boots scraped against the sandy stone ground. Blue eyes hung on the distant playground, angry, wishing he could get this unfairness over with and go play with the other kids.

Inside, Nik Lendra sat in the stone guest chair in front of the School Master's desk and stared at his own lap. His palms sweated. Nik absentmindedly kept rubbing them on top of his thighs throughout the School Master's long and difficult explanation.

"But nobody got hurt," Gina insisted from the seat beside Nik. "Right? You said so yourself he wasn't even on the same side of the room."

"Ms. Lendra, no one was on the same side of the room." The School Master angled her head to address Nik sympathetically. "This isn't a punishment. I don't think Ben did it on purpose. He's a good kid. But the boy has been through a lot. All three of you have. I'm suspending him only because I think it would benefit you all to take these few weeks to bond."

Gina's face jerked up. "You're suspending me too?"

The School Master stressed it gently, "Ben needs quality time with his mentors. He needs to know you're both there for him. Take some time out and be a family for a little while. Work together to figure out what to do about all this."

Gina's jaw clenched.

What to do about all this. Nik snorted a sick grin through his nose. Why doesn't anyone just come out and say it?

It was clear what the School Master thought they should do. Nik never said it aloud himself, but Gina already knew what Nik thought they should do. But Nik knew his wife felt like the galaxy was ganging up on her. He watched it out of the corner of his vision as his wife pinched her face into shut down mode. She stared angrily at the air to lament already about her house, her career, her friends, her parents . . . .

"Mr. Lendra, are you alright?"

Nik hadn't said a word so far. It was easier to stay out of the way so Gina could do all the talking. Now that he was addressed directly, he opted for the non-committal gesture of what everyone was thinking. "I'll comm my sister and see what she says."

"Good," the School Master calmed then, her stress abated, satisfied with the conclusion. "Feel free to give the Jedi my contact in case I can answer any questions."

When his parents came out to the exterior hall, Ben felt the weight of their stares. He remained drooped against the wall and glared up. "It wasn't me."

His father didn't agree or disagree. He simply shifted his boots and motioned Ben to come on home.

Ben sat up straight. "But it's recess."

"Come on, scrapper. We all got suspended over this."

Gina lifted her chin, "Nik, honey."

Her tone was soft, but he could hear the nails in her voice.

"Go call your sister. I'm going to take Ben to the playground."

She didn't wait for an answer, and Ben didn't need to be told twice. His pattering boots echoed in the stone hall of the school and Gina turned her back on her husband, arms knotted at her chest, and marched quickly away behind him.

"A pencil?" Kess's flickering image in the old viewer flickered more with trapped laughter.

Nik propped his elbow on the desktop and smashed his palm over half of his face. "It's not funny."

Kess tittered tightly and nodded. "It kinda is." The wall behind her in that new Jedi Office was still void of wall hangings, but she was in a clean tunic, with reasonable make up, braids tied neatly behind her head, and not a hint of grease on her. She looked healthy, especially with her cheeks pink with laughter.

The worried dad stressed the severity of the matter, "A pencil flying with such force that it impaled another kid's knapsack on the other side of the classroom."

She threw her head back with full laughter. Nik rubbed his eyes with his fingers and tried not to grin about it. He couldn't guess many times the two siblings sat across from each other at grandma's dining room table after school, staring hard at their pencils trying to move them with the Force. How many times did grandpa step over and pluck the pencils out of their sight so they would turn their intense concentrations back on their homework?

Nik grumbled about it, but tried not to laugh at it all himself. He fidgeted with the sweat on the side of his beer bottle. "What do you think grandpa would say about all this?"

To that, Kess sighed and settled. She gave her brother a sympathetic gaze and spoke with the wisdom of a real Jedi. "You know you don't need me to answer that."

Nik twitched his mouth.

"In fact, it's better if I don't."

"How do you figure?"

"Because, Nik, you have a family to hold together. And you guys need to make this decision as a family." Her gaze hardened. "No one has the right to 'tell' you what to do about it."

Nik avoided her gaze for a long moment, then he swigged his bottle hard and slammed it down again. "I hate you." He shook his head, trying not to smile. "Just sayin'. "

She smiled anew. "Yeah? Well. . . Apparently, that's usually how Jedi Training starts. So I guess you guys are on the right track."

Nik rolled his eyes at that humor but stared at the pile of bills on the desk.

Kess continued conversationally. "Ben'll live. He's young. He'll bounce back. It's Gina you gotta worry about."

He acknowledged that with a nod at those bills.

"You know we're here for you," she assured. "Just say the word . . . . but Nik?"

Brown eyes glanced up.

"You guys have got to want it," she stressed at him. "This shit ain't easy."

Nik absorbed the depth of her words, and realized he knew that much already from his own experiences. He folded his lips together and nodded some more. "I'll comm you in a couple days."

"Anytime, brother."

She hung up, and so did he. The house was warm with the afternoon sun shining on the upper dome and into the back window. The pale furniture of the pale living room was cluttered with signs of life. He swiveled aside in the desk chair to lower his elbows to his knees, fidgeting with the beer bottle under his fingers and staring at nothing. Then he looked up and looked around at the house, to see the paint patches of color ideas on the kitchen wall that Gina hadn't yet made a decision on color. . . . to see the adobe patch he just repaired by the front door. . . . the markings on the hall threshold where they kept silly measurements of Ben's height since the baby learned to stand. He closed his eyes and realized he'd pay off the place in only eleven months.

Lips pinched, his gaze fell back down to the beer bottle he just now realized was in his hand.

In a flash of rage, he sat up and threw the beer bottle away from him to crash against the far wall of the room. Blond beer splattered down the blond wall. Brown glass rattled onto the tile floor. Nik fell hard back in the desk chair and rubbed his face with both palms until his fingers clawed deeply into his own hair.