AUTHOR'S NOTE: All lyrics are trademarked by their respective copyright owners.
"Hey, everything OK, Jesse?" Glen stuck his head into his foster son's room with a concerned expression, "You were real quiet at dinner."
"I'm good, Glen, really," Jesse insisted, sprawled on his bed with a glum expression.
"I'm not so sure," Annie leaned over her husband's shoulder with her own concerned expression, "I've known you long enough to know when you're burying your feelings."
"OK then," Jesse took a deep breath and told the Greenwoods the whole story of the day, which he had only given in passing before, "And I'll admit, it hurt to see Judy's mother just slam the door on her dreams like that," he concluded with a shake of his head, "She was having the time of her life out there watching all the whales, I could see it in her eyes. And then to just be dragged off and told to just forget about it-part of me just wanted to jump into the car and slug her mother a good one. She'd deserve it anyway for all the lies she told defending Dial."
"Well I'm glad you didn't," Glen told him firmly, sitting down on the bed next to him, which Annie did as well on Jesse's other side, "The last thing Annie and I want to see is you back in trouble again, which we can tell she'd happily get you into if she got the chance."
"And I'm not a juvenile delinquent," Jesse muttered in disgust, "Maybe I used to be, but now I want to move beyond that. It angers me that people like her only see what's on the surface."
"I know," Glen nodded knowingly, "Some people are just blinder than others, Jesse, and clearly she's one of them, if she's so bent on trying to manipulate her daughter into being what she wants her to be. Don't worry about her, though; bad people always get their comeuppance one way or another in the end if they don't reform, and just know that if she ever puts you down to your face again, you can let me know, and I'll take care of it for you. Because you're definitely no juvenile delinquent."
"Thanks, Glen," his foster son beamed. He sighed and lowered his head. "Honestly, among the three of us, I don't know who has it worse with our mothers. Mine ran off and hasn't called in years, Jake's is dead and gone, Judy's oppresses her. I wish it could have been better for all of us." He looked up at the Greenwoods. "Do you guys think, if she had been around the last few months, that my mom would have helped to free Willy too? I've wondered about it for a while now, if she would have joined in like you guys did. If she would have cared enough for him."
"I guess we'll never know," Annie shrugged, "But whether she's alive or not, Jesse, I have no doubt that she's proud of you somewhere," she assured him, "What you did for Willy would make any mother proud-just like you made me proud."
She rubbed his shoulder affectionately. "I know," Jesse smiled, "But it's also..." his expression crashed again.
"You were really hoping Willy was going to be with those other whales," his foster mother knew, "I'm sure you were. I'd've been hoping for the same."
"What if he never does come back?" Jesse lamented, sliding his head down onto his knees, "What if...he's already forgotten about me...?"
"Well, if he's moved on, that's the way it is," Glen said softly, putting and arm around the boy, "But don't worry about the last part, Jesse; Willy would never forget you after what you've done for him. Never in a million years."
He pulled his foster son into a hug. "Well, probably time for bed," he told Jesse, "But the next time you see this Judy, tell her she's welcome over here too like Jake, and if her mom has a problem with that, she'll have to answer to Annie and me."
"I will," Jesse agreed, "I just hope to find a way to make sure she can come out with us again."
"You'll think of something, I'm sure," Annie gave him a hug of her own, "Sleep well, Jesse."
She and her husband left the room. Jesse switched out the light, but did not climb into bed immediately. A few of his concerns still raged in his mind, despite the Greenwoods' efforts to comfort him on them. He approached the window again. "Mom?" he asked into the gathering darkness, "If you're out there, and you do care, I hope you are proud of me. I've done the best I can with what I've had. I just wish you would come back, if only for a little bit, so I could know for sure that you're proud of me. That would make me feel a whole lot better."
He sighed again, his gaze now going to the Haida whale carving on his nightstand that Randolph had given to him. "I'll still be waiting, Willy," he said softly to the carving, picking it up and staring hard at it, "But if you're not coming back, just promise you won't forget about me, please. I won't forget you, please don't forget me."
There was no answer from the figure. Jesse set it back on the nightstand and switched on the radio before sliding into bed. He pulled the covers up to his neck and closed his eyes, listening to the lyrics now echoing through the room, seemingly trying to give him comfort: "You are not alone. I am here with you. Though you're far away, I am here to stay. You are not alone. I am here with you. Though we're far apart, you're always in my heart. You are not alone..."
OCTOBER 8TH
"Looks like we've got two minutes left, class, so I guess I'll cut it off here, and hope that you've found this discussion on sea otters more interesting than our previous animal topics," Mr. Banks informed his class, "Now, one other note, I have contacted the Walker-Blechman Oceanographic Institute about perhaps having us for a field trip there, and they are interested. So when I know the date for sure, I'll let you know. Perhaps actually seeing marine life in person will make you realize how important they are..."
"He put you up to it, didn't he?" Bart rather rudely cut in, pointing accusingly at Jesse next to him.
"So what if I did!?" Jesse countered with a scowl.
"So who cares about whales and marine life? This is you just trying to stay in the spotlight now that that whale's gone," Bart snapped.
"No it's not!"
"Well I'm not going," Bart folded his hands across his chest and gave Mr. Banks a harsh glare, "I'm not going to waste my time looking at dumb whales-if there's even any out there."
"Well, you could choose to not go, Bart. However, considering everything, I may then have to dock you half a grade," Mr. Banks approached him with a triumphant grin, "Would that be sufficient for you to want to go?"
"No way, dillweed, and you can't make me," Bart snorted, making the class gulp out loud at how far he was going.
"I'll pretend for the moment that you meant that in a nice way," Mr. Banks somehow managed to retain his grin as the bell rang, "We'll go over this later; pages sixty-four to seventy-two for tomorrow, everyone."
The class emptied out of the room again. Jesse once more remained in his seat, his eyes turning to Judy, packing up her things in the corner. She hadn't said much to him since her mother had dragged her away from the institute, and he was worried that she was mad at him for the situation. He'd held back from talking with her in case she had been mad; by now, though, he simply had to know. He cautiously approached her. "Hey, I know we haven't spoken since that day, and I'm sorry if I got you into any trouble..." he blurted out.
"Don't feel bad, Jesse. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at Mom," Judy mumbled, slumping against the window, "She tries to make me into the person she wants me to be; she's been doing it since I was a little girl. I can't take it anymore...!"
She let out a growl of frustration. "Everything all right?" a concerned Mr. Banks approached them.
"No, not at all," Judy turned and told him about everything that went down at the institute a few weeks prior. "I can't stand her!" she muttered in closing, "She doesn't understand, she doesn't even try to understand! Part of me just wants to run away to sea and never come back!"
"Well you know, Judy, that really wouldn't solve anything," Mr. Banks sat down in the seat next to hers-a bit of a struggle given his large frame, "However, I'd be willing to talk to her if you think it would..."
"That wouldn't do any good, Mr. Banks, sorry. She's too set in her mind, too convinced she's right about everything. She wouldn't listen," Judy growled. She turned to Jesse and Jake, who had also remained behind when his friend had chosen to stay, "You guys may think you have it bad with your mothers being absent, but I think I have it worse, living with one who's psychotic."
"So she's always been a hard case?" Jake asked.
"Like you wouldn't believe. She's spent her whole adult life on a mad crusade to prove the superiority of women, to show herself to be the best around. I don't disagree with showing women are strong and smart, but I hate the way she does it, trampling over everyone in her path. And she's made it clear she wants me to be exactly the same as her, as successful. But what success!?" she threw up her hands in disgust, "All she does is defend rich guys who think they're above the law. Mr. Dial's not her only client that I could tell right away was actually guilty of what he was accused of," she turned back to Jesse, "She moves heaven and earth to get them all off, and she doesn't care what she does to get it done. I could tell she put you and your friends through the wringer on the stand, and I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to have gone through that."
She slumped down on the desk. "That day out with you guys was the greatest of my life," she told the boys, "I finally felt free, finally felt happy to do what I really wanted to do. So of course it was asking too much for her not to storm in and ruin it. She wants me to be a successful lawyer like her no matter what; she's been forcing me to take tutorials with a professional for the last year, and since that day, she's increased the hours I spend getting them as punishment. She just doesn't understand..." she lowered her head, "Dad left us two years ago; he couldn't stand living with her either. If he didn't live on the other side of the country now, I'd go to him. I want to be anywhere but with her now..."
"Well I'm sorry you feel that way," a sympathetic Mr. Banks told her, "If you need..."
He stopped, a grin now crossing his face. "Hold everything, I may have an idea," he exclaimed, "You want to go out and study the whales with Jesse and Jake, you said?"
"More than anything, Mr. Banks."
"And you say she's obsessed with making a lawyer out of you?"
"Unfortunately."
"I think I may have a plan," the teacher rose to his feet-taking the desk, which was now stuck around his frame, with him. He frowned and tried to push it off, to no avail. "Oh well, get that later. Anyway," he turned back to Judy, "How about this: I'll call her up and tell her that you've told me that you agree with her now and want to be a lawyer like her. And that I know someone who would be an even better tutor for you, and I'll set you up with that person on the days in question. That way, you'll have cover to go out and see the whales."
"You would!? Oh thank you!" a delighted Judy hugged him, "I don't know how I can repay you for this, Mr. Banks...!"
"Don't get caught again, for starters. Probably best, though, to make sure you go down on set days going forward; that would help with the cover. And once you're set, I'd like to come too: I'd have a better idea of the speech I'll give on the field trip knowing what we'll have to see."
"I guess we can manage that," Jesse nodded, smiling himself now, "What days work best for you being down there?" he turned to Jake, "We can plan the cover days for Judy around that."
"Any day works for me, Jesse, just so I'm out of the house," Jake grumbled, hinting that his father was still drinking, "But how about Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays to start?"
"I think we can set that up," his friend agreed; deep down, he knew the Greenwoods would probably appreciate a set schedule for his visits to the institute as well, given they'd been rather firm about him getting his homework done on time.
"All right!" Judy pumped her fist in delight. "Were you going down today?" she asked the boys.
"We were planning on it," Jake said.
"Then let's go!" she seized her school books and practically raced out the door. Jake gave Jesse a grin and rushed after her. "Thanks," Jesse told Mr. Banks, reaching over to try and help him push the stuck chair off of himself, "This means the world to her."
"I can tell. And I know that a teacher should try and be his students' friend, even if they don't want them to," Mr. Banks said, wincing as he pushed harder on the seat, without success.
"I like that about you. You're the one teacher I have that does try and reach out, and I'm sorry the other kids in the class don't seem to like it," Jesse apologized for them, "It must be hard, wanting to connect and knowing they don't want you to. I guess," he hung his head, "I guess that's how all the foster families I ran away from felt when I shut them out before."
"Well clearly you're a better person now, Jesse, and really, that's what matters. Oh, and don't think I haven't forgotten about your whale books yet either," the teacher reminded him, "I haven't given them yet because I was looking for as many as I could, and finally got a bonanza from an old college friend. Next chance I get, I'll drop them off. Your foster parents live where, exactly, in case it's on the weekend?" he inquired. Jesse gave them the Greenwoods' address. "OK," Mr. Banks nodded, still straining without much success to get out of the chair, "Actually, Jesse, I think I'll get the janitor to handle this," he told the boy when he reached for it again, "You go off with Jake and Judy and enjoy the whales. Tell them I'm coming too the next chance I get. After all," he grew nostalgic again, "I never did thank the whales for showing me how lovely it is up here."
"I will. Thanks for covering for Judy," Jesse commended him in parting. He grabbed his belongings and raced after her and Jake. It was going to be a great afternoon now, he knew.
