O is for OBLIVIOUS
Don must remember that Charlie was oblivious of his former defeat in the hands of Bart and his cronies. Only his mother knew of the so called "bumps and knocks" from his baseball practices – at least two of them.
Don was feeling out of sorts since his conversation with Charlie.
What if he found him and confronted him about what happened during their last two years in school? He never wanted Charlie to know what happened. He was afraid their relationship would go backwards again if Charlie knew Don was lying to him all along? Since school, Don became a master at hiding things, things he didn't want his parents or Charlie, especially Charlie, to know about.
It was mean of him to say Charlie couldn't keep a secret. Charlie could, but this secret, Charlie would want to talk about. To Charlie keeping a secret meant that he was alienating himself from his family. Charlie would not purposely do that. Don still felt that he should protect him, no matter what.
He remembered when the FBI was called to a case of people getting sick and dying on the same day. They had feared a Bioterrorist attack. A CDC Lt. Havercamp called in their own math expert who, much to Don's surprise, turned out to be Charlie.
At the time, Don was a bit put out, and Charlie behaved like nothing happened. Don was annoyed that Charlie kept that from him, that he had high-level national security clearance through the NSA. He remembered that they even had a bit about it which made Charlie very mad.
At the end of the day, they both tried to pretend it was nothing, and they were OK again. Secretly, Don was proud of Charlie, very proud indeed of what he had become.
He didn't want any of this to happen, so what was he going to do? If Charlie had confronted Hogan, surely Don's secrets would be out.
Don sat in front of his screen, staring at it, oblivious to all around him. Most of his team had already called it a day, and the last to leave was David.
David gave him a light pat on his to back to let him know he was going.
"Nite Don."
He answered him absentmindedly and lifted his hand up a bit. "Nite David."
He leaned back in his chair tilting it as far as he dared and rested his head. His mind wandered back to the day after the practice 23 years ago. He could still remember it clearly as if it happened yesterday.
"Robbie, I'm going now, see you ." he said to his good friend Robbie. He picked up his bag and stuffed his dirty shirt inside after taking out the clean one to pull over his head. If he had his way, he'd walk home in his dirty, sometimes muddy shirt, but his mother insisted he change before walking back.
"One," his mother said, "You will be dry and not wet with sweat, mud and dirt. Second," his mother laughed and tousled his hair, "You won't be too smelly when you get home."
Don smiled at the memory of his mom. "Aw mom!" he complained, trying to move before she could rub his hair again.
His father naturally agreed with Margaret Eppes. Don didn't see what was wrong with a little dirt and sweat, but he knew defeat when he met it. So, he kept quiet, and after every match, he changed his into his clean tee before walking home.
He stuffed his bat inside his duffel bag and zipped it up halfway.
"Hey, Don!' Robbie came back to Don. "Don, I heard the Fart talking to some boys when I was coming here from school. They didn't see me, but I heard them talking about you and especially your brother Charlie. I was running late so I did not hear what they were saying. So you just be careful, and tell your brother too."
"Thanks Robbie," Don replied. "Just what I need," Don thought to himself. He was sick of dealing with Bart and his buddies. But, what else could he do, he mused to himself. Mom and Dad had their hands full with Charlie. They didn't need to deal with Don's problems.
Don was rushing home. It was later than usual since the game went into overtime.
He
was crossing the field and was over by the stands when a group of
boys came out.
'Damn, Damn and Double damn!!' He muttered, running the other way in a desperate attempt to avoid them. The boys were bigger and taller than Don, and two of them overtook him and rammed into his back. He fell down but got up immediately." What do you want?"
"You! Not such a smart ass now, are you?" Barty jeered at him.
"You want to fight? Why don't you do it? You know you can't fight me, so you brought, or rather bought, your so called friends?" Don was shooting off his mouth and he knew it. It was his habit, his bad habit, for he would never back down.
His bad habit got him into trouble this time. Bart nodded his head, and three boys came up to him. He tried to put up a fight, but he could not hold off three of them. Barty stood to the side to watch with the other two boys.
They were clever and didn't hit Don in his face. They struck his shoulders and stomach. Luckily for Don, he managed to throw in a few of his own. While they were taller than him, Don knew how to duck and attack. One boy backed off after being hit in the stomach accidentally by one of his friend's elbow. ."Arrgh! You bloody sot, you hit me! I'm off!" He ran off.
"Corn, Corn, come back!" shouted Barty.
Now, there were two against Don.
After what seemed a long time to Don, the boys backed off and ran away. Don took one last hit to his stomach, and he dropped to the ground holding his stomach.
When he looked up, Hog was beside him, and he said," Sorry, tell Charlie sorry."
"What does that mean? If you touch Charlie, I'll come after you," Don said, struggling to rise and ready to fight again.
But Hog was already gone, and Don was alone.
Suddenly Robbie came running up to him, "Don are you alright?"
"Ok, I'm Ok, just a bruised stomach." He lightly touched his face. They had managed to put in two punches to his face. He then rotated his arms and feltl just a slight twinge. He was lucky he knew how to duck, and the punches were just glances. Still, it was painful to touch. His stomach sure got a walloping.
Robbie helped Don up and offered to carry his backpack while Don hung on to his bat. What if he had the bat on hand, probably they wouldn't be so brave to come at him.
"I would be in big trouble if I did hit them with the bat," he thought. 'The bat would be viewed as a deadly weapon.'
Don turned to Robbie,"Hey, thanks Rob. You'd better be going. I don't want my parents to know what happened. Keep it under wraps, alright?"
"Yea, yea, the usual. Dunno why you take all this crap. Tell the principal, and let him deal with the Fart."
"No use. How many times then will I have to go to the Office? Already Bonkers sends me to detention for everything he can think of."
"Well maybe if you stop shooting off your mouth, keep quiet and let them say what they want and don't fall into their trap…" Robbie paused, looking at Don mischievously, "I'd bet your detention time would be just as few as mine." Robbie tried to look innocent and they both burst out laughing.
"No, no, don't make me laugh." Robbie was just as bad as Don so they usually spent detention together.
After waving Rob off, he walked the last block home.
He was holding on to his stomach when he got home. Charlie saw him and ran towards him asking questions.
He told them he had a rough game and was accidentally hit in the stomach, and he ran into another when the second game ended.
Later in the night, his mother came into the room.
"Don? Are you alright sweetheart?" Margaret came to sit by Don's bedside.
"Come, sweetheart, let me see those bruises. Did you get into a fight because of Charlie?"
Don turned to his mom," No, no, mom, no don't say that, and don't tell anyone please?" he pleaded with his mom.
He confided to his mom about Bart and how he liked to tease Charlie and how he had tried to stop him from doing that by telling him off in front of everybody.
Don paused in his story thinking that maybe telling him off wasn't such a good idea. "That probably cheesed him off," Don said to his mom. "He got revenge by sending other boys to fight me."
"But mom, don't worry. I can take care of myself and Charlie, but you must promise not to say anything about this, please, please, mom."
"Alright, I won't say anything to anybody, but you must let me have a look and put something on it. See, your poor face. It's turning colors now. You'll have a shiner on your cheek tomorrow if you don't let me put something on it."
Don suffered in silence while his mom rubbed some cream on his face and deep heat rub on his bruised stomach and shoulder.
"It is good that you look after your brother and protect him like any big brother would. I am very proud of you both and especially of you. No matter what you do Don, remember I am always proud of you, you both. Remember that."
"Yes, mom and why are you going all soppy on me. Just a bruised stomach. Tomorrow it will be alright after your magic rub."
His mother smiled and kissed him on his forehead,"Be careful, please Don, don't make me worry. I won't say a word this time, not even to your father, but you must promise me to be very careful, and don't say anything. Next time this boy teases Charlie, can you just take Charlie away. Please Don, you have to promise me that.
"Thanks mom, yes, I will ……try." Don gave his mom a lopsided smile, "but, remember not a word about my bruises, alright"
But then Don didn't know what it did to his mom that day.
Margaret left Don's room with a fury only a mother can feel coursing through her veins. She wanted to break something, anything preferably that Bart the Fart's head. Her son, beaten by a gang of thugs… She stalked down the stairs realizing that she had promised not to tell anyone. What was she thinking, and how would Alan not notice that something was wrong? She tried to calm herself as she went down the stairs and announced that she was taking a quick walk.
Alan looked up from his paper and nodded his head, not knowing the turmoil in his wife's head.
As Margaret walked, she poured over her dilemma in her head. If only she could drive Don and Charlie to school and pick them up everyday. Or better yet, she could send Alan. He should put some fear in the heart of those boys. But, she knew Don would never consent to this. He had too much pride.
Well, she would just follow Don to school. He didn't have to know. If anyone tried to hurt him, she would be there to stop them. A smile crossed her face as she pictured herself decked out in a trench coat, ducking from tree to tree, following Don and Charlie to school. Hell, she'd probably be arrested as a stalker.
The old adage "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" popped into her mind, bringing a slight smile to her face. That adage was wrong. It should say "Hell hath no fury like a pissed off mother."
What to do? What to do? Maybe she and Alan could talk to the parents. But, no, she couldn't tell Alan. She had promised Don. And Don, her Don, who rarely opened up to anyone, had trusted her. She couldn't betray him. But, how could she let this go? She almost wished she didn't know. Margaret Eppes walked on.
She finally headed home. She needed to get to her piano. Alan and the boys never knew, but music soothed her, calmed her. She needed her music more than ever tonight. Finally, after making sure everyone was asleep, Margaret headed for her piano. She played softly, slowly, running through music she knew by heart. She also played some of her own compositions.
As she played, she thought of Don, thought about everything he had sacrificed in his life, thought about how fiercely protective he was of Charlie. She thought about the child he was and the young man he was becoming. And as she thought, she picked up her pen and began to write; putting musical notes on paper. Soon the paper was full; full of her love for her son. She called it "Etude in G Minor."
She looked at the clock, it was very late or rather very early in the morning, and she quickly packed up her composition and carefully put in amongst her music sheets. She closed the cover of the piano, carefully put the decorative cloth over it, gave it a last look and went upstairs.
Rest was history and Bart ambushed him one more time. But this time Don was prepared. He was expecting it and was sure the Fart would ambush him. This time they got off worse than he. He had the sore stomach for a whole week, but he did escape his parents query, for they had to go to Aunt Irene's for a function and stayed over for two days. (Some uncle passed away.) The boys escaped going because it was school week.
"Excuse me sir, Sir…..AGENT EPPES!"
Don was jerked out of his time travel, 'Huh?"
"Agent Eppes, I need to vacuum this floor. I thought it would be disturbing for you. Don't you want to go home?" the cleaner lady named Hazel asked Don.
"Huh? Oh sorry, just thinking and sort of fell asleep, what's the time?"
"Over 9.30pm sir. It's late. Why don't you go home to your family? Tomorrow is another day."
"Eh.. Hazel, yes, tomorrow is another day. I'll take your advice and go home to my family."
Don stood up, rotating his shoulders and cleaning off his desk. He locked up the necessary files, picked up his things, keys and all, put on his coat and went off.
"Goodnight Hazel." He called out.
"Goodnight Agent Eppes." Hazel called out.
Later she went near to clean his table and saw a photo of three men.
"Ah.. Lovely people must be the father and brother. Very nice."
Don took Hazel's advice and went home to Charlie's place.
At least he would have a good meal there. He was feeling hungry now, and lunch with Charlie was hours and hours ago. He had called up before getting into the SUV. His father and brother were at home and yes, there are some leftovers he can have. It was chicken stew day. Oh great, his stomach was growling now.
"Hey Chucky, do me a favor, can you heat it up for me? Don't ask dad. I am very hungry. Give me three slices of bread. Please… I'll do it for you next day." He could hear Charlie snorting away.
The end.