The rest of the afternoon seemed to go on forever to Jesse, even though it likely only took a few hours. All told, by the time Randolph had started turning the boat back to the dock, they had tagged seven additional whales, including a common minke whale, a long-finned pilot whale, and an early migrating gray whale. There had been, however, no killer whales to be seen, and although Jesse tried to take Rae's advice to be patient to heart, part of him did have to wonder if Willy and his family had decided to leave the area for good. After all, these waters did have traumatic memories for them...

He tried to put such thoughts out of his mind as the boat approached the dock again. "So," he walked over to Jake, who was standing well away from the railing now that he had no reason to be there, "Did you like it?"

"I think so," Jake said, "It might take a little getting used to, but I think I would like to keep doing this. Actually, are you sure we can't stay out later?" he asked the adults, a nervous look crossing his face to Jesse's eyes.

"Afraid not, Jake, I do have classes to get to," Rae shook her head, tying the boat back to the dock, "But you're welcome back again the next time we go out."

"Yeah, I'd like that, Mrs. Lindley," Jake said, hopping back onto dry land. Jesse did the same. "Uh, before I forget, guys," he turned back to Rae and Randolph, "My biology teacher said the other day he was interested in bringing our class here for a field trip on whales when I mentioned to him I'd be doing this. You think we can work it in?"

"I guess we'll have to ask the institute's management, Jesse, but if they say yes, and your class wouldn't interfere with the research too much, I guess we can probably accommodate it," Randolph told him, "Anyway, I can take you boys home if you'd like."


"Looks like there's nobody home," he mused a half hour later when he pulled up in front of Jake's house at the south end of the city.

"Uh, well, my father's probably out, somewhere," Jake said quickly, climbing slowly out of Randolph's minibus, "I'll be fine from here..."

"Jake!" came a furious shout from up the street. A balding, heavily built man with an untucked shirt and loose tie was coming towards him. And Jesse could clearly tell the man was drunk; there was no mistaking the bloodshot look in his eyes and the wobble in his step as he approached his son-nor the expression on Jake's face that was mixed between worry and disappointment. "Where the hell have you been!?" his father upbraided him, his voice deeply slurred, "I've had no word from you since you left for school yesterday morning! I thought we had more trust than that!"

"I met a friend, Dad, and I..." Jake tried to explain, not meeting his father's eyes, and looking embarrassed to be near him, from what Jesse could see.

"That ain't no excuse! I'm your father, and I demand you let me know where you're...!" Mr. Perkins started to rant, but the door on another car parked nearby swung open, cutting him off. "Finally, George; I've been waiting three hours for you," a squat man in a gray sanitation uniform with the name HAL in the ID circle stormed up to Jake's father, disgust on his face, "I could have guessed you were out hitting the bottle again."

"I don't want to talk to you, Hal! I've had enough of you shoving your union demands down my throat when I don't have the money for it!" Mr. Perkins snarled.

"Well we're going to talk right now, George, because I've had it, and the union's had it. Our last two checks bounced, the trucks need maintenance, and you just drink your life away while the company spirals down the drain. So I'll make this clear: either you meet all our demands," Hal thrust a set of papers in Mr. Perkins' face, "Or we go out on strike first thing in the morning. We're all sorry about Donna too, George, but it's time to either pull yourself together and move on or sell the company. So what's it going to be?"

"What's it going to be? This is what it's going to be," Mr. Perkins tore the union's demand papers to shreds, "You and your damn union can burn in hell, Hal! You've been out to get me for years, and don't think for one minute that I can't put you all out in the street and get new people to run your jobs in a heartbeat! It don't take much to drive a garbage truck, after all, and there's plenty of drivers out there with the labor market being what it is now...!"

"All right, that's it, George. I tried to be fair, but it's clear you're just going to be unreasonable here," Hal threw up his hands in disgust, "We're going on strike, and we're not coming back to the job until you stop drinking and start focusing on the company again. And once the garbage in this city starts piling up, don't think for a minute that the public won't side with us."

"Go ahead and walk, Hal! I don't need you or any of your union hacks! And anyone who walks doesn't come back, got it!? Now beat it!"

"Sure, George, but don't forget what I said," Hal warned him. He gave Jake a sympathetic glance. "I'm so sorry you go through this, Jake. You deserve better."

He turned and stomped back to his car. Randolph now climbed out of his minibus, clear concern on his face (and Jesse couldn't blame him given what they'd witnessed). "Mr. Perkins," he called to Jake's father, "My name is Randolph..."

"What do you want now, Sitting Bull!?" Mr. Perkins slurred crankily at him, making fury flash across Randolph's face at having his Native heritage insulted in such a manner. "Mr. Perkins, I can explain your son's whereabouts," he nonetheless proceeded calmly, "He was with me all day today. I work at the Walker-Blechman Oceanographic Institute now, and Jake was invited to come along on a research trip by Jesse, who he befriended at school recently," he gestured back at Jesse in the minibus, "And I want you to know, Jake was a big help for us..."

"Whales!? You spent a whole day looking at whales!?" Mr. Perkins frowned at his son.

"Yeah, I did, Dad, and they're really interesting..." Jake tried to rationalize to him.

"What's so interesting about them!? They swim around and blow water out of their heads; whoop-dee-do," Mr. Perkins snorted, "But if you want to waste your time on it, go right ahead, I don't care. Nothing in life's worth caring about anymore. I'm going to lay down; I'm tired. You can make your own dinner again, Jake."

He stumbled drunkenly onto the porch and groped for the doorknob, growling when he seized for several imaginary knobs at first before finally getting the right one. He half-tumbled through the door, clearly hung over. "Jake, you don't have to stay here if you're not comfortable..." Randolph told the boy.

"No, no, it's all right, Mr. Johnson. I'd better look after him; he needs me right now," Jake said miserably, pain and shame on his face from what Jesse could see at having the full story of his home life come out in the open. He turned and slouched into the house, looking utterly embarrassed, and leaving Jesse feeling helpless and impotent to help his new friend.


"That's terrible," a concerned Annie remarked, seated with him and Glen at the Greenwoods' kitchen table an hour later, "No wonder he was so adamant about sleeping over here the other night. His father didn't hit him, did he?"

"No, thank god, but I can tell Jake's worried about it," Jesse confessed to her, "When I was living on the streets, I knew a couple of kids who ran away from abusive homes, and they had the same terrified and helpless looks on their faces whenever they'd tell me what their parents or stepparents had put them through. You guys think we should call Dwight or someone else with the power to help him?"

"Well unless he's actually being abused by his dad, Jesse, there's not too much social services could probably do," Glen pointed out, "But you can still be there for him; tell him the next time you see him he's welcome over here any time of the day. We'll be glad to offer a more stable environment for him."

"Absolutely," Annie agreed, "With everything you said he's gone through, losing his mother and watching his father spiral into alcoholism like that, he probably needs every anchor he can get."

"I know," Jesse nodded, "That's why I want to get him involved with whale research; that'll at least get him out on his own for a while. And I was thinking that if Willy did come back, maybe he could help Jake too."

"Here's hoping...hey, almost six o'clock," Glen noticed the time and bustled over to the kitchen TV, "Mrs. Shuler me called to say the jury was deliberating earlier today; maybe they have a verdict by now."

He switched the set on. Jesse leaned forward in anticipation, hoping that if a verdict had been reached that it was right one. Two commercials played before the six o'clock news began. "Good evening, I'm April Ferry," the anchor declared to viewers, "Our top story tonight, the trial of Northwest Adventure Park owner Robert Dial ended anticlimactically as jurors proved unable to reach a verdict in the case alleging he attempted to kill a whale at the park to get its insurance money. Despite requesting additional time to deliberate, the jury hung on all charges..."

"OOOOOhhh!" Jesse groaned in frustration, slumping his head off the table, "We blew it! He's going to get away with it now! It's just not fair!"

"Well, no one said life was fair, Jesse, and I'm sure you know that as much as anyone," Glen patted him on the shoulder, also looked frustrated that Dial had escaped justice for the moment, "But karma always comes for the bad guys, and he'll get his..."

The phone now rang. "Glen Greenwood," he answered it, "Yeah, we saw it too. No, I'm not blaming you; you did what you could. That other lady was just a buzz saw. Right, I figured you'd want to. Mrs. Shuler for you," he handed the phone to Jesse. "Hello," he glumly greeted her.

"Hello, Jesse. I guess you know by now we couldn't get the conviction on Mr. Dial," Shuler told him apologetically, "I just want you to know, it's nothing you did-you were great on the stand-and that this isn't the end. Since it was only a hung jury, we can retry the case at a later time, and I'm going to press the state attorney general to request a new trial as soon as possible. Would you be willing to testify again if we did get a new trial?"

"Absolutely," Jesse nodded firmly, "Just make sure Anita the Assassin's not on Mr. Dial's team next time."

"Well, I can't control who he has defending him. But I'd also like you to know, Mr. Dial's still going to be facing other legal action from other people too-there's a whole lot of people out there who are angry with him for what he tried to do-so don't worry, somebody's going to bring him down at some point."


"I think we do have to consider this a win, Robert, considering all the bad press the whole affair generated," Dial's attorney was now telling him over the phone in his mansion's living room.

"Maybe for you, Anita, but I'm still in hot water here," Dial snapped, "The bank just called; if I don't repay the three hundred thousand dollar loan I took out to pay for that damn whale's room and board at the park within two weeks, they're going to cut off my account permanently. I could lose everything: the park, my house, the clothes off my back! And I'm going to need you for at least the next month. Ever since I got back home, I've received calls informing me that I'm being sued by the insurance company, the state amusement board, and every damn animal rights group in three states!"

"I'll take care of it, Robert, don't worry about it," his attorney assured him, "They don't call me Anita the Assassin for nothing, after all. It'll be tricky, but I'm confident we can get you off and shift the blame onto your former employees."

"You'd better, Anita, or that kid'll be living in here, and I'll be out on the street! So come up with the best plan you can, real quick!" Dial slammed the receiver down. "Oh god, I hate that whale!" he muttered in disgust, slumping back on the sofa.

"Not good, huh Mr. Dial?" Wade stuck his head in the door.

"No, Wade, as far from good as anything can be!" his boss slapped both hands to his temples, "And all this could have been avoided if somebody had bothered to check and make sure the park was deserted before he cracked the whale's tank open!"

"I did check; it looked completely deserted as far as I could see!" Wade protested, "The kid must have been hiding somewhere in the whale's exhibit!"

"Well obviously, it wasn't a thorough enough check!" his boss slugged the side of the sofa hard. "All right, we'll have to work overtime to try and turn a profit from this," he rose up and approached his underling, "Call Enrique; tell him I have a business proposition for him."

"Uh, that's not going to work if..." Wade started to point out.

"That whale'll be coming back this way eventually, Wade. I just know it will; it's too close to the kid not to," Dial cut him off, "We just have to wait-and hope we stay solvent while we do. But if this works, we can cut our losses and cash out well ahead of the game. Make the call."

"OK, if you think that'll work," Wade shrugged and bustled off to phone Enrique. Dial picked up his own phone and dialed another number. "Carl, it's Dial," he said softly, "This...yes, it looks bad at the moment, but I have an offer to make you. You caught that whale in the first place, now I'd like you and your crew to try and catch it again...maybe for now, but I know deep down he'll be back this way again soon. And when he does, I want him again..."