Andrew emerged from the school in the middle of a group of friends. When the kid in front of him stopped short he crashed into his back. "Sorry, dude," he muttered as he moved around the boy.
There was a man leaned back against the outer wall, one foot bent at the knee, the sole of his work boot planted firmly against the red brick. His leather jacket was grubby, worn out at the elbows, and his jeans were indifferent at best. He had a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip. After they'd stood transfixed for a minute he spoke "You boys findin' somethin' interestin'?"
They continued to stare, Andrew bit down on an errant lip that threatened to turn into a smirk.
"Well?" the dirty blonde hair whipped back as the guy lifted his head to regard them. He looked dangerous, his lips a thin cruel line.
"No…no, sir," one of the boys stammered, his eyes frantically searching out anything other than the possible drug pusher who was lounging so flagrantly against their school.
Andrew continued to stare the man down.
"Andrew, man, didn't you hear what he said?" One of the kids hissed in warning.
"Didn't your momma never teach you no manners boy? You starin' at a man, that's just rude." The blonde informed Andrew with a sneer.
"My momma's pretty rude when she wants to be, guess she don't care if I wanna be too," his inflection was impeccable, he had Boone's ear for mimicry.
"That so? Well I guess we gotta spend her a visit. You gonna come nice, or I gotta drag you?" The lanky guy pushed up off the wall.
"Recon it'd be better for me I don't cause a fuss." Andrew replied.
"I'm gonna have to give you props for that, cause it sure as hell would." He flipped his hand at Andrew indicating quite clearly that he was to accompany him.
The group couldn't believe that he was going with the man so easily, their amazement ramping up a notch when their friend reached forward and dipped his hand into the mans' jacket pocket deftly, re-emerging with the guys wallet, stuffing it down the back of his pants.
When they reached the grubby Chevy Malibu at the curb, Andrew pulled the door open, almost ready to enter he hesitated, the blonde man pushed him forcibly into the car.
The boys on the front steps exchanged glances. "You think we should tell Mr. Cheswick?" one asked, the implications of the possible abduction very clear. Typically none of them wanted to get involved, in addition, though the doors of the school were just a few steps behind them, it was the last day of school, and none of them wanted to pass over that threshold again until after Labour Day. Half way through the debate Andrew stuck his head out the passenger side window of the sedan.
"Hey guys! My friend James is coming with us tomorrow! It's going to be a blast, see you!" He waved and the shit box peeled away from the curb.
That the blonde dude could have truly been a threat and easily found some way to force Andrew into making that statement never occurred to them. Over the years their friend had been picked up at school by all strange manner of individuals, from a soft spoken Asian woman to a swarthy Middle Eastern man, from a petite blonde Australian to an actual rock star, though none would remain quite as unforgettable as Sawyer.
"Man, James, this car stinks." Andrew said. He'd hesitated at entering the thing, that was why Sawyer had pushed him.
"You dissin' my ride, Einstein?" The man gave him a hurt look.
"Well, yeah, I am. Does Boone know I'm in this car?" He was fairly doubtful about that.
"Naw, your momma sent me. Metro don't know shit." Sawyer was amused that he and Sticks were pulling one over on Boone again.
"So why are you here, James?" He knew that, while Sawyer often arrived completely unexpectedly, even during the years that Shannon had been away, the timing of this particular visit was entirely too coincidental. Of course Sawyer would have known it was Andrews' birthday, but he'd never made an attempt to put in an appearance for that occasion before.
He'd been in his loft in LA when the call had come through; it'd been Boone asking if he could help out with Andrews' birthday party. Apparently some "Terry" guy had had a situation arise and was no longer available. Of course Sawyer had said no immediately.
That was when Sticks had gotten on the phone. Within five minutes he was heading to the parking garage, his ever prepared overnight bag slung over his shoulder, cursing her from LA to Timbuktu. She'd out conned him again, "Fuckin' bitch," he'd thought.
Andrew picked the details out of his head easily, just as Sawyer had intended.
"And I want my wallet back, son." He added, casually.
"You knew I'd taken it?" Andrew was distressed at being caught out; he'd hoped to be able to show off a bit.
"You're gettin' better boy, but you gotta be more gentle, I felt the tug at the last minute." Sawyer schooled.
"Shit!" He cursed, pushing the envelope, figuring he could get away with the minor swearing with Sawyer.
"You watch your mouth there, Einstein." He warned, though there really wasn't a lot of conviction in it.
"So it's okay that you taught me how to pick pockets and hot wire a car, but I can't say shit? Seems like a double standard to me James. You really care?" Andrew was amused.
"Ain't my call to make, recon Metro'd do his best to skin me alive if he knew of any of the shit I've shown you." Given Boone's knife skills it was probably something he could actually accomplish. "It may not seem so, but I respect your daddy's rules when it comes to you. I've heard him tell you not to swear, but as for the rest, well, I never heard him say you ain't allowed to lift a wallet or steal a car."
Andrew chuckled at the twisted logic of it. "Yeah, well, Boone's Boone…" Andrew fell silent at that, his idolatry of his dad causing him to become mute. He loved Sawyer too, just as he loved all of them, but no one was going to overthrow Boone from his place on Andrew's throne.
Supper was far more animated than usual, Sawyer poured drinks for both himself and Shannon before dinner, and even Boone had some Shiraz with the robust coq au vin that he dished up.
The rest of the boys were all dropped off at the house early Saturday morning. Boone had forced Sawyer to scrub down his entire car, inside and out before he'd let any of Andrews' friends ride in it. Andrew had prudently taken a shower and changed his clothes the night before, prior to Boone getting home, so his dad wouldn't catch a whiff of how bad he smelled. It was Sawyers' own overpowering tobacco stench, and Boone's long time acquaintance with the guy, that spurred the impromptu detailing. Even Shannon agreed, she'd winced at the opaque nature of the windows of the Malibu when she'd pulled in the driveway after work.
Marshalling the kids and trying to arrange who went with whom, while Shannon examined her nails and Sawyer lounged and smoked, Boone was distracted long enough that a little private power play happened while he was otherwise occupied. He had his eyes closed, running his hand through his hair while he tried to decide which of Andrews' friends Sawyer was least likely to become annoyed enough by that he threw them out of his moving vehicle on the ride to the park.
When Boone turned back around Chris was rubbing his shoulder and Peter was getting into the passenger seat of Shannon's car. Being both the oldest and the largest, Peter was rarely challenged; the only one who'd had the nerve to vie for the coveted place of honour riding with Andrews' mom had been Chris. He was paying for it now, a bruise already starting to spread across the flesh of his bicep, hidden by the sleeve of his t-shirt.
It had originally not been an issue when a group of them, larger than Boone's car could accommodate, went anywhere necessitating the additional use of the two-seater, Andrew had automatically always been the one to go with Shan. But once the novelty of her Indy-car style driving had worn off, he'd reclaimed his spot riding shot gun with Boone, of course he didn't have the same reason for wanting to sit next to his mom that the other boys did, though he was well aware of what it was.
Peter spent the drive staring at her legs, exposed almost all the way to the top by virtue of her very, very short denim cut-offs, Boone had even commented on their suitability for an outing of this nature, but she'd brushed him off. "They're just a bunch of boys, Boone!"
"Exactly," he'd muttered quietly under his breath, and then stolen another glance for himself.
Peter was fixated on Shannon's smooth golden thighs, the muscles of her left upper leg flexing stunningly each time she depressed the clutch, his breath catching a bit as the definition brought about by her exercise regimen sculpted the focus of his attention. Under his fringe of hair he also stole glances at her profile in his peripheral vision. Often when she finished a series of shifts, she'd leave her hand draped over the gearshift knob, rubbing her palm over it absently, and randomly curling her fingers around it, when she did that he bit his lip and pressed his legs together. He wished that he could think of something to engage her in conversation about, but his head remained devoid of anything but his burgeoning adolescent awareness of sex.
Shannon finally clued in to his surreptitious glances, "Good Lord kid! Puhleeze!" She rolled her eyes, humiliating him completely.
At the adventure park, the go-karts were up first. The kids were all excited, for most of them this was their first driving experience. After a thorough briefing, they all fastened their helmets and climbed into the cars. The smell of twin stroke engines filled the air quickly as they circled the track.
Humiliatingly, but not unsurprisingly, Boone was the first casualty. He'd been distracted by something and drove his car right off the track, not just pushing one of the hay bales out of the way, but actually ending with the front of the chassis suspended from it. He buried his face in his hands, wondering yet again 'why me' as the rest continued to race.
The other boys quickly fell by the wayside as well as Shannon and Sawyer vied with each other, eventually the only two cars still on the track. They all stood and watch the contest that rivalled NASCAR quality, drafting, bumping and rubbing all being employed.
"Mr. Carlyle?" The attendant finally approached Boone. "Are they going to be at it much longer?"
"Just till they run out of gas, and then they're likely to get out of the cars and chase each other around the track." Boone advised.
"Out of gas? But I just topped up all the tanks before you started. That could take hours!" The guy cried in dismay.
"Well, if you've got a break scheduled, I suggest you take it then." Boone shrugged, gathering the kids together and herding them off for laser tag. Andrew had been tempted to try for paint ball, but figured that Boone would have an issue with the whole projectile thing; he thought he had a better chance with the more benign laser tag instead.
Boone wasn't sure when they'd actually given up on the go-kart challenge, he was just suddenly aware that now, instead of being adversaries, Shannon and Sawyer were in the black light maze and were acting in conjunction, taking down each one of the boys methodically.
'Jesus,' he thought at her. 'Is this Andrew's birthday or yours and Sawyers?' Without answering she followed his psychic energy back to him, targeting him and killing him dead.
The kids were still somehow not dispirited at lunch and boisterously devoured the food from the menu selections Boone had carefully chosen.
After lunch they engaged in the significantly less physically demanding offerings of the arcade, Boone wanting their food to digest properly. He shared a small private smile with Shannon as Andrew immediately made a beeline for the foosball table, motioning for Sawyer to follow him.
"I ain't playin' no f.."
"Sawyer!" Both of Andrews' parents cautioned, cutting him off. It wasn't the first time they'd had to do it.
"I ain't playin' no damn kids game." He amended, cleaning it up marginally.
"Fraid I'm gonna beatcha?" Andrew taunted; his words once again thick with a Tennessee accent.
"Ain't fallin' for it Einstein." He leaned back against the wall just inside the door. "Get Metro to play. Don't recon' he can hurt himself playin' some kids table game." Boone shot him an unimpressed look, while Shannon hid a smile. He'd already barked his knuckles trying to extricate his go-kart from the hay bale, and had become disoriented in the darkness of the laser tag maze, bashing head first into one of the walls.
The kids could have spent the rest of the day playing in the arcade, but Boone wanted them up and moving once he figured they'd spent enough time immersed in the almost seizure inducing flashing lights and raucous sounds of the video games.
Shannon was talking with Sawyer, her back to the rock climbing wall of their next destination, when the man snorted out a poorly concealed attempt at laughter. She spun quickly to see what was amusing him so much.
Boone was about a metre off the ground, harness and helmet on, he was reaching for a hand hold as he scaled the wall. She ran forward and grabbed the back of his jeans, yanking him unceremoniously to the ground. He staggered back a few steps in response to the unexpected arresting of his attempted ascent.
"What the hell, Shan?" he asked regaining his balance.
"Feet on the ground, Boone," she pointed at the floor to emphasize her point.
"What? Why? I've climbed cliffs successfully before if you recall," he pointed out.
"Oh, yes, you certainly have. And that just ended so very well for you didn't it?" She sneered.
"I didn't fall off the fucking cliff; I fell out of the tree in the plane." He muttered to her privately, only Sawyer overhearing.
She waved her hand at him dismissively, "Whatever Boone. No climbing. Not now, not ever. Feet on the ground," she repeated, turning and walking away, closing the subject for discussion.
"Fucking bitch," Boone gritted his teeth at her retreating back, but he still removed the helmet and harness.
"Best trade those jeans in for a skirt Metro cause I sure do know who wears the pants in your family." Sawyer patted him condescendingly on the shoulder as he sauntered away.
"Asshole," Boone muttered, his cheeks flushing in anger.
They packed up the boys after that and headed for home, each of the kids wearing a souvenir t-shirt from the park.
They collected around the kitchen table so Andrew could open his gifts. Most of them were the typical selection of presupposed adolescent boys' items of desire as purchased by the different boys' mothers. It was obvious from a few of them however, that some of the women had been paying attention and knew Andrew better than the others.
There was a card with an enclosed gift certificate for a national book store chain, one with a similar certificate for a CD and DVD outlet, but the one that excited him the most was a box containing a selection of puzzle books, both mathematical and word based.
He thanked everyone enthusiastically and then glanced between his mom and dad. Last year Boone had told him that he'd get his present from them after everyone had left, this year however the same caution hadn't been given, so he was eager to find out what they'd chosen for him.
Shannon stepped forward and extended her wrist, hand down, when he automatically thrust his arm out in anticipation, she dropped a small ball into his waiting palm. He frowned a bit, then recognizing it for what it was, brought his head up and grinned at them, "No way!"
"Way," she said with a smile.
"Check the gym," Boone added.
His chair almost toppled as he rushed to rise and then pelted for the back door, his friends trailing behind him.
The foosball table was in a newly vacated section of the space. The reason Shannon hadn't been able to pick him up after school on Friday was because she'd been home waiting for someone to come to relocate the gym equipment, and someone else to deliver the gift. She'd returned to the office after things at home had been squared away.
"You guys are the best." He wanted to hug them, but hesitated in front of his friends.
"Einstein, you best thank 'em proper," Sawyer cautioned.
At that he moved forward to wrap his arms around each of them in turn, getting a kiss from Shan on the top of his head, Paul almost whimpered at the sight.
Typically Boone's son, he urged four of them forward to play first, the table would be at his disposal anytime he chose, besides he had some unfinished business.
Sawyer had never given him a birthday gift in the past, but something told him that this year it would be different.
Handing the ball to Chris, he turned to stand in front of the man. "So, what did you get me?"
"Andrew!" Boone cried out at his presumptuousness. Sawyer was certainly under no obligation to provide the boy with a gift.
"S'okay Metro," he tossed his hair away from his face and reached in his back pocket, extracting a rectangular item, wrapped tightly in the plastic bag of the store from which it had been purchased.
Andrew took it eagerly and pulled a zippered wallet on a belt chain from the package. He regarded it quizzically, glancing from it to Sawyer, whose face was set in a one dimpled smirk.
Suddenly Andrews' eyes widened and he slapped a hand around, but encountered the reassuring bulge of his wallet in his back pocket.
"Ain't you gonna read the card?" Sawyer drawled.
The boy checked the bag and then unzipped the wallet and examined every pocket, but there was nothing. "There isn't one," he stated, puzzled.
"You sure about that boy?" Sawyer watched him, grinning smugly; both dimples now on display.
The three adults waited, Boone and Shannon figuring that this was some private game between the two.
Andrews' mouth fell open and he reached around behind him again, pulling his wallet out of his jeans. He opened it slowly, a small scrap of light cardboard fluttering to the ground. He knew it hadn't been there an hour ago when he'd made change for one of the boys who'd wanted a pop from the machine at the park.
He bent down to pick it up. It wasn't so much a card as more of a gift tag, the kind that might be included in a bunch of flowers. In fact Sawyer had charmed it out of the cashier at the front counter of the florist shop that had been across from the luggage store where he'd purchased the gift.
Andrew turned the card over.
'Happy Birthday' was pre-printed in the upper left hand corner of the space. Under that was written one word only:
Gotcha