"Mr. Ellison! Mr. Ellison, may I have a moment, please?"
Jim looked up, startled from his thoughts by the feminine voice calling out to him from a half block back. Turning he spied Miss Appleby's ample figure fast approaching, her face flushed with effort as she waved to get his attention. Mentally bracing himself for bad news – why else would the schoolmarm be looking for him? – he found a smile for the harried looking woman.
"Good day, Miss Appleby," he greeted her formally, tipping his hat. "What may I do for you today?"
"I'd appreciate it if you'd come to the school with me for just a few minutes. I have something I think you need to see to appreciate."
Realizing that the problem must be worse than he expected, Jim simply nodded his agreement, and ushered the woman back toward the school. Noticing that the building appeared to be standing okay and no windows were broken, Ellison breathed a small sigh of relief. At least whatever the problem was, it didn't involve massive property damage.
"Today…this morning…we had our weekly math test. It's not a big deal, you understand, just so I can be sure the children have really caught on to the concepts in the lessons for the week," Cora explained as she escorted Jim into the schoolroom. "I put up ten problems for them to solve, they are to write the answers out on their slates. I correct them during lunch, then afterwards will help each child as is needed. As you can see, I had four different levels of questions this morning."
Jim looked around at the blackboards, noting that there were a total of forty questions, only half of which he felt qualified to solve himself. "You've got some tough problems up here."
"Well, those ten were for Melissa, she asked me for some problems like she might encounter on an advanced math test at college. She's been studying ahead on her own, and I was happy to do anything that might help her. Frankly, Mr. Ellison, I can't solve those problems myself, they are beyond the math classes I took in college. Melissa got four of the ten correct, which I thought was quite impressive," Miss Appleby explained, indicating the ten questions on the far right.
"Anyway, I was halfway through correcting the children's work when I came across this," she added, holding out a slate for Jim's inspection.
The slate was covered with a multitude of small numbers, pinched in closely front and back, with a barely legible name printed in the upper right corner: Billy. Ellison looked at the woman in some surprise, Billy had only started school five days ago.
"Maybe he didn't understand the instructions?" he asked with a shrug, not understanding quite what had bothered the woman so much. Granted, it wasn't something they usually had much of a problem with; kids trying to do too MUCH schoolwork. But it hardly seemed important enough to drag him in here for.
"No, no, Mr. Ellison, I don't think you understand. Those answers are correct. ALL of them. Billy answered all forty questions, including some college level problems, and got them all right. This is material I haven't covered in class at all, that I'll never cover in class. I've been watching him this week, and this is really just proof positive of what I'd begun to suspect. Billy is extraordinarily intelligent. May even be labeled a genius," she concluded, looking up into Jim's startled blue eyes.
"A genius? Couldn't it be he just studied this sometime? Guessed lucky, maybe?" Jim ran a distracted hand over his head, trying to puzzle out this turn of events.
"I don't know about him having studied this, of course. But it wasn't guesswork. He showed enough of his work on the slate here. He understands HOW to solve these problems; I'm very impressed, really. At this time it's not a problem, Mr. Ellison. As you yourself indicated on Monday, Billy needs to do some healing, and as yet his written work is somewhat sub par, but I suspect that is at least partially due to his reluctance to talk. After all, writing is just like talking, only silent. It's for that reason I am not pushing him to write much, yet. But, he appears to be an eager reader, I look forward to finding out just how good his reading skills are." The teacher laid a comforting hand on Ellison's strong forearm and gave him a glowing smile. "This isn't bad news, you understand? It's actually rather glorious news. With the right encouragement, the right opportunities, there is literally nothing he won't be able to do, nothing he can't achieve."
"Well, I have to admit, you've thrown me for a bit of a loop, Miss Appleby. I wasn't expecting this at all, I expected you to tell me Jason and Tommy were fighting again, or Rocky was disrupting class, or something. I'll talk to Blair about this, and we'll try to find out if Billy had been taking some sort of class from his dad or something. I guess otherwise, just keep us apprised of his progress, if you would please. And thank you, for caring enough to chase me down to tell me this. I appreciate your dedication," Jim said, very sincerely if formally. For some odd reason dealing with Miss Appleby made the Sentinel feel like a child again, caught making trouble in class, so he usually ended up sounding stiff and formal in the woman's presence.
"Mr. Ellison, the pleasure is mine. I just know he's going to be a wonderful student to have in class. Now, if you don't mind, I need to call them in from lunch. They've already gotten an extra ten minutes rest time, if I let them go too long they'll be impossible to deal with," she explained, gently shepherding the big man out the door as she spoke.
He strode down the steps as Miss Appleby called out for the students to come back in from lunch, and a quick glance showed his eleven charges standing together in a clump looking at him apprehensively. Realizing they must be worried that there was some sort of problem, he smiled and walked over to them.
"Relax, no one's in trouble. This time. Though I am curious as to why such guilty faces…" he trailed off suggestively, unable to maintain his stern expression in the face of such wide eyed innocence. "Okay, okay, just teasing. Get yourselves into class before you DO get in trouble," he laughed, shooing them toward the building amid cries of 'that's mean to tease!' and 'see you later!'.
Hurrying back downtown, he quickly finished his errands, wanting to get home and discuss Miss Appleby's discovery with Blair before the kids got home from school.
TS TS TS
Jim found his Guide sitting uncharacteristically still on the front porch, his expression pensive, and somehow sorrowful. Tying his horse to the hitching post, the Sentinel sat down on the railing in front of his friend, taking off his hat and tossing it on a nearby table.
"Hey, Chief. I just had an interesting meeting with Cora Appleby," he said with a half grin, knowing it would get his friend's attention and take his mind off of whatever it was that had him so down.
"Uh-oh, now who did what?" the younger man asked in an almost defeated tone of voice. Surprised by Blair's attitude, Jim nonetheless reported what had transpired during his meeting with the schoolmarm, enjoying the sudden interest his friend showed.
"A genius? Wow, I guess maybe he really WAS reading that book on Sunday night, I thought he was just looking at pictures. But this cold open up a whole new set of problems, if Miss Appleby is right…" Blair trailed off, his expression again troubled.
"What is it, Chief? What's happened? You looked like someone had died when I rode up, but I thought this news might at least cheer you up," the Sentinel commented with a worried frown.
"Simon came by," the smaller man said after a pause. "Gave me this letter, it's from Jack Pendegrast. He got the information on Billy's dad."
"I take it this isn't good news," Ellison concluded, a vague sense of dread stealing over him.
"Here, read it for yourself."
Jim removed three sheets of paper from the envelope. The first was a brief note from Jack, expressing his hope that Billy was recovering well, and explaining he was forwarding the two letters he got in response from the town of Nordwick, Oregon. The second letter was from the sheriff of Nordwick, informing them that Wallace Cranston had died in that town nearly a month before, and requesting his condolences be forwarded to his son. The third letter was written on fragranced pink paper, and Jim opened it curiously.
To who it may cuncern:
My name is Rubylee Dawkins, and I work at the Night Owl Saloon, entertainin the gests, if you no what I mean. The sherif was askin about what happined when the pothacary got killed, seeing as he wasnt in town then. I seen the hole thing, but there wasnt anything I could do to stop it even tho I wanted to. It werent right, no how, and I spect I ain't the only one having bad dreams bout it.
Walis, that were the pothacarys name, came to town like as always, bringing us all our medicins. I always got my iron tonic from him, he stocked it speshul for me, he said. Folks all came to see him, jus like always, and he had these free samples - gave them away to everone. Said they was vitamens, good for children to help them grow and such.
But then folks got sick - real sick. A high fever, pain, throwing up, everthing. Walis said it werent his falt, the vitamens wernt what was making them all sick. But then Josiahs little girl, she was only five, died, then the Meachams younges son who was three. Now Josiah is a powerful man in this town, and he loved his Molly to peeces, he did. He was greeving, and I think that is why it happened. He went to the saloon, and started knockin back the drinks like there was no tomorow. And the drinks, well that jus lets the demons out, you unnerstand. He started shouting that Walis was a killer of babys, and had to pay for what he done. It was rite then that the doc came by and said that the Meacham boy was dead too, and all hell broke loose. I gess greef and fear can make normul folks do the worse things. Cos I have lived here for years and never saw folks act like they did that afternoon. They started callin out terible things to Walis, a hole mob of folks by then. Walis tryed to esplane that the vitamens dint make them sick, but no one was lisening to him bye then.
I was up on the balcony, it goes acros the front street and along both sides, so I culd see all that went on. Even so I dont no who thru the first stone, but it could have ben Josiah himself. Then more were throne, and more, then Walises little boy was there, trying to help his daddy. Well Walis just grabed him and ran down the ally trying to get away. But there is a fence at the end, but Walis didnt no that.
By then the townfolk were geting scary, just picking up stones and throwing them at Walis and his boy, even tho anyone shuld no the boy was inocent. Walis lifted the little boy up and got him over the fence, but then the mob got him with a bunch of rocks all at once. I could see the little boy reaching thru the fence, trying to help his daddy, and the blud on Walis from the rocks and things and I could hear the boy crying but no one cared.
I culdnt take it anymore and I went downstairs to at leest get the boy, but when I got to the ally they had quit throwing rocks and had set their pothacary wagon on fire and Wallis was dead and the boy ran off.
And you want to no the wurst part? Two hours later a rider from another town came, looking for the meat wagun that sells fres meat. Seams they had a outbrake of illness too and it was the meat. Wel, the meat wagon had been here the day befor, and acording to what they said the illnes was jus the same. So it wasnt even the vitamens that made folks sick, it was the meat.
Folks here felt reel bad bout what they did, and gave Walis a good funerul, and I think they wood have helped the boy too, but culdnt find him. I hope you do have him safe and happy and he can forget what hapened to his dad. His dad was a good man, and he is a good boy.
I hope this is what you wanted to no. If you have any questuns Im always here.
Rubylee
Jim drew a slow breath and rubbed one large hand down his face, pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose as if in pain. "My God, he saw his father stoned to death in front of him? No wonder he's not talking. Then to end up with the men he was with when we found him…" his voice trailed off into a sigh.
"I know, Jim. I know. When I stop to think about it I just…you know I'm not a violent person, but this…this could make me change my mind, you know? The worst thing is, I can understand what happened in that town. I mean, intellectually I can understand it. There's a kind of 'pack mentality' that can occur in emotionally charged circumstances, and otherwise rational people can do the most bizarre things. So I know why it happened, but I don't understand WHY it happened, if you know what I mean. What could one little boy have done to deserve that kind of experience?" Blair sighed, then looked up a Jim ruefully. "Okay, I'll quit whining, now. And he'll be okay, he's obviously a tough little guy."
"Yeah, I noticed that. And let's face it, he's in good company, all of our kids have seen things no child should see." This was no more than the truth, sadly enough. The first five children they took in had watched from a distance as their families were killed. Kimberly had sat beside her mother's deathbed for several weeks, and Jason had seen his father shot down in the street by a coward. Katherine had heard the cries of the dying when the ship she and her family had been on sank. None of them knew how Tommy's parents had died, or if he had witnessed it, but he had lost his foster parents in a fire, while Rocky had no memory of what had happened to him, or to his family.
Yes, the sad truth was, this was a group of youngsters who had seen more of death than some people saw in a lifetime.
"At least now his silence makes sense, and maybe I can start trying to chip away at that. And this being a genius, this is really kind of exciting. I'll go in and see Miss Appleby next week, maybe give Billy some tests myself. If we can figure out where his strengths and weaknesses are we can work together to make sure he's kept interested. If he gets too bored with school, it could effect his morale. I'm betting he's the kind of student who likes a challenge, to learn new things, to stretch intellectually. In fact, if he likes math so much, I can probably get some older textbooks from my old friend, Daniel. He has access to them at Harvard, I'll write him now, and make sure it makes the next post East," the younger man muttered, standing up and heading inside, still muttering plans to himself.
Ellison watched him go with a fond smile, shaking his head as he recognized the symptoms of Blair Sandburg in full research mode. While Blair never expressed any regrets about choosing the rough and ready life of the frontier, there were times the Sentinel suspected he missed the chance to hobnob with his intellectual equals. Even Miss Appleby and Dr. Wolf were not quite the same caliber intellect as Jim's Guide and best friend, though no force on Earth would drag that observation from the younger man. But this child, battered as he was by circumstances, offered something Ellison instinctively recognized as being vital to Sandburg's continued happiness; a chance to teach and an opportunity to commune with an mind as quick and sure and boundless as his own. The older man honestly suspected Billy would begin to speak again in self-defense, if nothing else.
Standing, the big man carefully put the three letters back in the envelope, planning to put them in his desk before heading out to do the afternoon chores. Next week he'd go see the town's one and only lawyer, and have his tenth set of adoption papers drawn up. From the beginning, Jim had adopted each child, excepting Rocky, to prevent hassles, and to provide maximum legal protection for the children's future. His will clearly stated that should he die, he wanted Blair to raise the children in his stead, and if Blair predeceased him, then Hannah would be his choice. The children knew they were adopted, but no big deal was made of it; all the adults made it plain that their love and caring were not dependent on a piece of paper, whatever that paper might say.
The lone exception, Rocky, was for the simplest reason of all; they had absolutely no idea if Rocky's parents were alive or not. Until such time as the fate of the elder DeSantos was determined, Rocky would remain with Jim and Blair, but without the same legal protection the other ten had. It was the best they could do for the youngster, and they honestly hoped they would never be able to adopt the boy, since he lived and breathed for his hope that someday his family would find him.
It was a dream the adults couldn't…wouldn't…crush with pessimistic observations about how long it had been since Rocky was found, and the odds of their having survived in that area, at that time of year, if injured or lost. Every night the boy prayed for his family's safety, and every night the adults prayed a child's faith would be rewarded, but so far it had been over a year with no word.
TS TS TS
That night after dinner and dishes, Jim and Blair called Billy aside, ignoring the curious looks the other kids shot them. The small boy stood looking anxiously at his two benefactors, a worried frown wrinkling the area between two pale eyebrows.
"Billy, you indicated you haven't gone to school before, right?" Blair asked calmly, giving the youngster an encouraging smile as the youth nodded in agreement.
"Did you study on your own, with your dad?" he continued, getting a nod and slight shrug in reply to that one, along with an increase in the child's heart rate that caught the Sentinel's attention.
"It's okay, Billy. You're not in trouble," the big man reassured him. "Miss Appleby was impressed by how well you did on the math test, but we were wondering how you knew to solve those problems."
Billy shrugged again, this time in a self-deprecating manner, as if it wasn't a big deal, his signs of nervousness fading. It was obvious that he didn't consider his scholastic abilities to be very important, as was evidenced by the puzzled look he gave the two men.
"When you had that book on Sunday, were you actually reading it?" Blair asked, receiving an affirmative nod in answer. "Did you understand what you were reading?" he continued. The youngster gave him a puzzled look and nodded again, his expression clearly showing he thought that particular question was ridiculous.
Jim and Blair exchanged a look, along with a rueful grin, then released Billy to return back to the other kids. Watching the slight figure stroll back toward the boys' room, Blair sighed softly.
"I really wish he'd start talking. I mean, I can understand why he doesn't…honest I can…but I really would like to be able to test his limits, see just how bright he is. Like I said, I'm going to write to Daniel, my friend who's still at Harvard. He mentioned one time some tests to measure intelligence, maybe he can get me some to give Billy. That book he was reading, that was a college text, Jim. If he was actually reading it, and understanding WHAT he was reading, well…I've got to tell you, this could almost be more of a problem than if he was mentally handicapped. Our little school here isn't equipped with the kinds of resources he's likely to need, especially if he's interested in science. I remember being so frustrated as a kid, we didn't have the equipment to really do any experiments, and things like a microscope were unheard of. When I got to the city, the first thing I did was stake out the library and start to read. Maybe Daniel can get some textbooks headed our way…" Blair reached out to grab a slip of paper, writing down ideas as quickly as he thought of them, tapping the top of the pen thoughtfully against his teeth between times.
"Chief, you need to slow down here. First things first, Buddy. He's a little boy, and he's been through a lot. He still has nightmares; I've heard Jason calming him down a couple of times late at night. He needs comfort, safety, and love more than he needs books. He needs good meals and a bit of cuddling from Hannah, and rules, guidance, protection, and the occasional hug from you and I. He needs routine and predictability and a chance to heal. THEN he needs books and science equipment and whatever else comes along. Just don't push the school issue yet. Let him be a little boy for a while, and let's see how that works first, okay?" Jim protested, holding up his hands to symbolically slow his partner's headlong rush.
"You're right, you're right. I know you're right. I just get excited about the idea of a child who possibly possesses such a gift. I'll back off, though I'm going to post a letter to Daniel as soon as possible, since it'll take several weeks more than likely to get a reply. In the meantime I'll do what I can to keep him from being bored while he heals up. But mark my words, James," the young man continued in an exaggerated lofty tone that brought a smile to Jim's face. "This one will go far."
TS TS TS
"Come on, Adam, we don't want to be late to the picnic, or all the rhubarb pie will be gone," Rocky whined at his friend as the two boys changed from their 'Sunday best' back to their play clothes after church. That afternoon there was a town picnic down by the river, in a large clearing most folks considered as a sort of open park; the land being owned by one of the oldest families in the area and unofficially donated for public use.
"I'm coming, I just need to tie my shoe. And don't worry about the pie, no one wants to eat that, it's nasty tasting," Adam replied, teasing his friend in his quiet way. In some sort of strange attraction of opposites, Adam and Rocky had struck up a surprisingly strong friendship from the moment Rocky joined their home. Once he recovered from his injuries and the shock of losing his family, the young DeSantos boy proved to have an outgoing, open, enthusiastic way about him which seemed to suit the quiet, shy Adam. Rocky stirred up the other boy, encouraging him in assorted mischievous adventures, which the seemingly well-behaved Asian youth joined in with surprising spirit. The more studious Adam helped Rocky over various scholastic obstacles, which at least kept him out of trouble in school – most of the time.
As the two boys raced outside to join the rest of the children for the walk into town, Jim and Blair were helping Hannah and the girls load the food into the wagon. After assisting Hannah into the driver's seat, the two men got the children walking toward the picnic area, strolling along behind so they could keep an eye on their lively group.
As was the natural order of groups, there was an unspoken hierarchy among the youngsters, which was far more dependent on their individual personalities than on their seniority. Jason had been the undisputed leader since he first joined the family nine months after the first five children. This had not surprised Jim in the slightest, since from the first time he'd met Jason Lee Scott he'd sensed something special about the dark-eyed boy. Over time this feeling had grown stronger, and with Jason's occasional bout of hypersensitivity to his surroundings it had finally become clear: the boy possessed Sentinel abilities that were as yet not fully active. This at least helped explain why, even as a very young child, Jason had possessed a self confidence and maturity that set him apart from the rest, along with a natural inclination to protect those smaller and weaker than him, regardless of any danger to himself. This had held true through the additions of Katherine, Kimberly, and Rocky over the next three years. It wasn't until Tommy was added to their group that there was any real friction; he and Jason had been at odds from day one.
Apparently the half Indian youth had become accustomed to being in a position of leadership; he'd been the eldest and strongest child in his foster family, easily more self-assured than the other children there. It was obvious to the adults that at some point Tommy had learned that he had to be the one in control, personal 'power' was important to him. So he had so far butted heads on nearly every juncture with Jason, the two boys had been punished several times for fighting, and still it happened. Ironically, there was no meanness in Tommy, and surprisingly little anger given the fact the boy had been abused in his early childhood before landing with his foster parents - the faded scars were certainly proof of that. And though his methods and attitude were different, he was just as prone as Jason to protecting those less able to protect themselves. However, Tommy had shown no signs at all of latent Sentinel abilities, nor did Jim sense anything unusual about him.
It was Blair's opinion that if Tommy and Jason could just learn to cooperate…find some middle, common ground…they'd make great friends. But, until that unlikely event they would persist in bringing out the worst in each other and the visits to the woodshed for attitude adjustments would continue.
But on this bright Sunday afternoon there was no sign of disharmony among the children, they were walking in small groups of two to four, talking enthusiastically about a variety of subjects dear to a child's heart. Tommy strolled along with Adam and Rocky, the three of them discussing who would be their best choice for the fourth runner in the relay races. Aisha and Kimberly were quietly plotting a way to talk Hannah into letting them have a kitten, figuring that if they had Hannah's approval then Jim and Blair would go along with it. Trini, Zack, and Jason, with Billy listening in, were debating the fastest way to get across the country: horseback vs. train, given all the stops trains had to make. While Tanya and Katherine were idly gossiping about the play that would be coming to town the next month, and their hopes that it would be judged appropriate for them to see.
The two adults walked quietly, the Sentinel keeping his hearing turned down to afford the children the luxury of privacy, even though they didn't know it. If any of the youngsters had noticed Jim had unusual abilities, they had never mentioned it, and neither man had discussed it with any of them. Even Hannah didn't know of Jim's enhanced senses, though she had certainly heard the gossip about William Ellison's strange son, she never spoke of it to anyone. Around the ranch it was simply accepted without question or surprise that Jim seemed to just KNOW when a child or animal was in distress, or when danger from either nature or man was approaching. Simon was the only person in Cascade who knew of the existence of the Sentinel, and his Guide, and he kept their secret faithfully. In time, of course, Jason would be included in their confidence when his own abilities became more developed, but neither adult was rushing that time, wanting the boy to enjoy his childhood as unfettered as possible by the added responsibilities his senses could entail.
The clearing was already ringed with wagons and families, while the middle area was rapidly filling with clumps of adults visiting and children of all ages running about deeply engaged in games that made no sense to anyone over the age of twelve. The smell of kindling fires and freshly baked pies permeated the air, and more than one hand was slapped while trying to snag a sample of one tasty treat or another. The arrival of the eleven Ellison children (as they were usually referred to) added to the general havoc, and soon Jim and Blair sought out Simon's genial company, trusting the kids would be okay in the presence of so many adults.
Eventually Mayor Miles Carrington called for everyone's attention, and announced the start of the day's games. The adults smilingly moved to the outer areas, leaving a long area through the middle of the clearing for the contests. The next hour folks yelled themselves hoarse cheering on the young, and young at heart, in the three legged race, egg race, two- and four- man relay race, and wheelbarrow race. The end event was the most popular of all, one most of the men joined in for; an all out tug-of-war. The women all gathered buckets of water before the start of the contest, and the losing team was the recipient of an impromptu cold shower from the laughing spectators.
Afterwards the food, which had taken hours of patient labor in hot kitchens to prepare, was consumed with unseemly haste and unparalleled good cheer. Hannah felt a surge of satisfaction as her charges paid silent tribute to her culinary skills by fairly well eating every morsel of food she'd brought, capped by four pies. Sitting in places of honor on the huge blanket that was serving as a table, were several small trophies won by the kids earlier. Much to the boys' disgust, the four-man relay was won by Tanya, Trini, Kimberly and Aisha, while Zack and Jason took first place in the three legged race.
Hannah enjoyed a much deserved break while the children cleaned up the after dinner mess, before taking off for a last bit of fun before heading back to the ranch. Blair was sitting on the back of the wagon regaling a small group of young adults with a story from his well traveled youth, earning more than one frosty glare from his on-again, off-again girlfriend, Samantha.
Jim's discussion with Simon and Henri Brown was disrupted by the sounds of excited childish shouts from the area of the river. Something in the tone caught the Sentinel's attention, and he instinctively turned his hearing toward the disturbance, realizing immediately there was a fight going on, and at least one of his youngsters was involved. Rushing over, he found Jason slugging it out with a boy at least four years older than he was, and definitely getting the worst of it.
"Hey, hey! That's enough, boys," Jim fairly roared, grabbing the combatants by the scruff of the neck and forcibly separating them. "Just what is the meaning of this display?"
"He was pushing the other kids around, he almost pushed Billy into the river," Jason growled, glaring angrily at the larger boy.
"Is that the truth?" Jim asked the other boy coldly, giving him a rough shake. He recognized the larger youth as one of the Kinney boys, whose parents were both wealthy and negligent.
"We was just fooling around, I wasn't hurting them any," the boy was not stupid enough to try belligerence with the obviously angry man, but a self righteous whine did creep into his tone.
"Somehow I think you were the only one having any fun," Sandburg observed dryly, his gaze taking in the muddied patches on Rocky's pants, the leaves caught in Aisha's hair, and the fact Billy's pants were soaked up to the knees. Adam and Kimberly were also there, looking uncharacteristically angry.
"Hey there, Ellison, what the hell do you think you're doing, manhandling my son like that?" a strident voice cut in as Otis Kinney made his way through the gathering crowd.
"Just trying to find out why he felt he had to pick on kids younger and smaller than he is, apparently including a couple of girls. Seems like he's a bit overdue for a lesson in manners, wouldn't you say?" the Sentinel replied, releasing the boy with a final squeeze to his neck.
"I'd say it's high time you tended to your own problems, Ellison. Bringing in all these…undesirables, bringing them around like they're suitable to mix with normal folks. You got your nerve, I'll give you that. They probably ganged up on my Ricky, he's lucky he wasn't hurt by these hooligans," Otis spewed his poisonous words loudly, fueled by more than a little liquor.
With his blue eyes cold with rage, Jim stepped forward to defend his children, only to find himself restrained by Blair on one side and Sheriff Simon Banks on the other.
"Get home, Otis, and sleep it off, before I decide you'll be safer in a cell," Banks ordered the man with quiet fury, which even drunk Kinney had the sense to recognize. He staggered off followed by his tight-lipped wife and swaggering son, while the rest of the crowd slowly dispersed, seeing the potential excitement was over.
"Jim, you can't do things like that," Blair hissed as the people walked off. "You can't tell the kids not to fight, just to get into one yourself. Calm down."
Ellison recognized the wisdom of his Guide's words, but the anger still sang in his blood, the need to protect his tribe was strong. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and wrestling his emotions back under control, focusing on his Guide's touch and heartbeat to center himself. Feeling control return, he looked back at the children, his anger threatening to erupt anew at the pained expressions he saw. Kinney's words may have been fueled by drink, but they'd found their marks with cruel accuracy.
All eleven of the youngsters had heard Kinney's words, even Jason no longer looked angry as much as hurt and bewildered by the man's vehemence. The Kinney boy did not attend the local school, but instead had a private tutor at home, so there had been no real reason for him to dislike the Ellison brood. No reason but that the children were different, and apparently that had been all Ricky had needed to justify his picking on those who were smaller and weaker than he.
"Are you kids okay? Is anyone hurt?" Jim asked, knowing it was a foolish question, but unable to help himself. A slow round of headshakes indicated there were at least no physical injuries, but Tanya looked up at the adults with a puzzled frown.
"Why does he hate us? What did we do to him?"
"He's an idiot, Sweetheart, he hates for no reason at all. I'm sorry you had to hear such things from anyone, but there are some profoundly stupid folks in the world who will judge you based on things like skin color. You know we've talked about this before, Mr. Kinney is just another example of how ignorant some people can be," Blair said, putting a comforting arm around the little girl's shoulders. They HAD discussed racism and prejudice before, since out of eleven children, seven of them were likely to deal with issues of racial prejudice in their lives.
"Still hurts," the little girl murmured, leaning into the comfort offered.
"I know, I wish it didn't have to be this way," Blair said softly, beginning to herd the youngsters back toward their wagon. It was definitely time for them to be heading home, and later they'd have a long talk, try to help the children deal with the cruel words hurled their way.
Jim paused, and reached out to lay his hand on Jason's shoulder, indicating the boy should wait with him until the rest had left. Looking apprehensively up at the big man, the boy sighed, knowing he was in trouble again.
"Want to tell me what happened here?" Ellison asked, sitting down on a convenient fallen tree so they could be more eye-to-eye, though at the moment the boy's gaze was firmly on his feet.
"He was being so mean to us, and I was going to go get an adult, like you told us to, but he pushed Billy, and he almost fell in the river, and I don't know if he can swim and I got so mad, I just hit him, then he hit back, then I was fighting and I know it was wrong, but it's wrong for him to push smaller kids around. He even pushed Aisha down, and tried to grab Kimberly and they're girls! Adam got her away, but he could have drowned Billy if he'd fallen all the way into the river." Jason finally took a deep breath and looked up into Jim's eyes. "I know it was wrong to fight, but I had to do something to stop him."
The last was said not with defiance, but with an odd kind of acceptance, as if he felt he had no choice but to defend those who could not defend themselves. Jim mentally sighed, understanding all too well what drove the youngster, and torn between knowing that Jason needed to learn to control both his temper and his impulses, and wanting to acknowledge and applaud that fierce compassion and protective nature.
"Ah, Jason, what am I going to do with you?" he wondered, laying a big hand on the still small shoulder and staring at the river, thinking the situation over carefully. He was in an awkward position, since it was obvious that he himself had nearly gotten into a fight with the elder Kinney: Jason would have had to be blind not to notice that.
"I'm sorry," the child said softly, scuffing his right foot over his left one in a nervous manner. He hated waiting to hear how he was to be punished!
"I know, Jason. And this isn't quite like when you've gotten in trouble for fighting with Tommy, say. Those times you got angry, and used your fists to express your anger. That is completely unacceptable. This time you got angry, yes, but…you were also protecting your family. There's nothing wrong with wanting to protect those you care about, but you HAVE to learn to do it appropriately. And, first clue for you here young man, an appropriate method usually won't leave you with a black eye and split lip like you have now. Notice, I'm not saying it NEVER will. There are times where fighting is unavoidable, I know that. And while I'm not convinced this particular fight was unavoidable, I'm also not convinced it wasn't. So, here's the deal. I want you to clean out the chicken coop by Friday. It's been a while, so it's going to take some time," he noted, carefully ignoring Jason's aggrieved expression. Cleaning the chicken coop was pretty much saved as a 'punishment chore' since it was one of the least pleasant tasks on the ranch. The coop was low, enclosed, and quite simply STANK. And cleaning it out was tedious and disgusting at best, with a bunch of irritated chickens only making it worse.
"When you're done I want you to come to me, and I expect you to have at least three suggestions as to how you could have handled this situation today without resorting to slugging it out with a boy considerably larger than you are. So, see? You'll have something to think about to make your task a little easier," Ellison noted with a slight grin. Jason didn't look particularly happy with this task, but they both knew the boy would give it an honest effort. He always did.
"Yes, Sir," he replied, squaring his shoulders as if preparing for an ordeal as Jim stood up and walked over to the river, hunkering down on the bank. He turned back a moment later, wringing out his red bandana.
"Come here and let me have a look at you," the Sentinel requested, sitting back down and drawing Jason closer. He gently used the wet cloth to clean the blood from the split lip, and the dirt from around the bruised and swelling eye. "Well, you're going to be a bit of a mess for a while, but I suspect you'll live." He pulled the boy close for a quick rough hug, rubbing his hand up and down the solid young back. "You've got a good heart, Jason. And all the best intentions. Once we get that temper of yours under control, you'll have it made. Now get a move on and catch up with the rest of the kids. They're probably wondering what I've done to you."
Jason gave Jim a wide, relieved smile, then turned and hurried along the path back toward the clearing, frankly grateful he'd been spared another trip to the woodshed, the usual penalty for him breaking the no fighting rule. Cleaning the chicken coop was not fun, and but neither was having to sit on a pillow at dinner, and all things considered he preferred the extra chore.
Jim watched the boy leave, wishing he could find a way to help Jason fight his battle for control. He really hadn't learned self-discipline until he served in the Civil War, and that had been a horrible way to get that particular lesson. And even now, he was honest enough to admit, his control was sporadic at best, and often dependent on Blair's intervention. Walking at a more sedate pace, automatically monitoring the activities around their wagon as Jason rejoined the family, the Sentinel again tried to think of a suitable way to teach Jason, and some of the other children as well, more appropriate ways to deal with confrontations. Physically punishing a child for hitting someone was illogical at best, even so he'd had to resort to that from time to time with Jason, at least in cases where his fighting was honestly unprovoked.
There had to be some way to teach the children about self-control that wasn't punishment or a major social upheaval such as a war.
TS TS TS
Eve Beauchamp was one of the most eligible young women in Cascade; beautiful, elegant, charming, and from one of the wealthiest families in the area. Her parents provided her with the best and latest of everything, including her wagon, which she drove about Cascade waving gaily at her many acquaintances. She was not a malicious young woman, actually quite kind natured for the most part, but she WAS well aware of her effect on the young men of the town, and was not above using that to get her way. If charm and feigned helplessness didn't work, she would resort to playing two young men's interest in her against each other, all without any actual malice of forethought.
So when her fancy new carriage broke a wheel while she was passing through the outskirts of Cascade's industrial district, she used her considerable charm to entice the nearest strong men to help her. Charles Goslin was dispatched back to her parents' ranch to fetch a replacement wheel, while Goldar, who happened to chance upon the scene, was recruited to remove the damaged part.
Like any man of that era, the foreman of Zedd Ranch had changed carriage wheels numerous times, and was therefore surprised when this wheel refused to come off as it should. He could see some sort of soft looking ring inside the wheel, presumably providing a sort of cushion for it, but had no idea how something so small and soft was making it impossible to pry the wheel off. The numerous spectators were beginning to enjoy Goldar's discomfort (albeit in a very quiet manner), when Blair happened upon the scene.
His attention caught by the crowd's air of amused expectation, but his focus quickly shifted to the pretty young woman and the fancy rig he'd been discussing with the local blacksmith, Francis Bulkmeyer. Remembering that conversation, and a newspaper article he'd read, made him realize that Goldar would never be successful trying to remove the damaged wheel the way he was trying to.
"Hi, Miss Beauchamp, you seem to have run into some trouble here," Sandburg commented casually to the elegant young woman, tipping his non-existent hat with a wide smile.
"Yes, but Mr. Goldar assures me he has the situation well in hand. And Mr. Goslin will be back momentarily with the new wheel. Though it does seem my Good Samaritan is having some trouble getting that wheel off," she replied with an airy wave of one delicate hand.
"Well, there is a secret to it," Blair admitted, not thinking about how it would sound to Goldar.
"Oh? You happen to know this secret?" she countered in a voice barely above a whisper, which was a calculated maneuver to ensure the listener gave her their fullest attention.
"I…I think so. I read it in a newspaper a while back," the young man admitted with a self-conscious blush, unused to a woman of Eve's social standing noticing him.
"Maybe you could help, then. You don't mind, do you Mr. Goldar?" she asked sweetly, ignoring the quick scowl that crossed the larger man's face.
"Of course not, Miss Beauchamp. If the little fella here thinks he can help, I'll be happy to let him try," was the not quite gracious response.
Deciding to ignore Goldar's attitude, Blair squatted down and got behind the wheel, releasing a pin that held the wheel in place against the 'cushion'. Pulling the wheel in toward him, he got it off of the rubber cushion, allowing him to work the stubborn padding off the shaft, followed closely – and easily – by the damaged wheel. It looked simple enough for a child to accomplish, provided one knew HOW to do it, and quite without meaning to Sandburg had managed to make Goldar look more than a little foolish in front of his associates.
Any reaction Goldar might have been inclined to indulge in was interrupted by the arrival of Charles Goslin with the replacement wheel. The kind natured ranch hand willingly helped Blair finish the repairs, the younger man deftly replacing the rubber pad that had defeated Goldar earlier. Sandburg's speed and efficiency did nothing to improve the larger man's sense of wounded pride at being shown up by a short, bookish, four-eyed nobody. Only Eve's gentle presence prevented Goldar from exacting retribution for the perceived insult immediately, a fact that didn't completely escape the young woman.
"Oh, well done, Mr. Sandburg!" she cooed, clapping her glove clad hands approvingly.
"Thank you, Miss Beauchamp, but honestly, it's not that difficult once you understand how the rubber pad works. It's designed to provide a smoother, easier ride, or so they say. Does it actually work?" the former scholar asked with genuine curiosity.
"I have to admit I've not given it much thought," she confessed with a smile. "Perhaps you can join me for a ride one day and give me your opinion on the matter?"
"It would be my pleasure. I've read arguments for and against some of the new wagon designs, but haven't had a chance to experience any," the slightly flustered young man confessed.
"Why don't you come out to our place this Saturday, say at eleven? We can go on a picnic," she invited, holding out her hand to seal the deal.
"I'll see you then," Blair promised, kissing the proffered hand gallantly and bowing. "But for now, Jim is going to think I got lost, so if you'll forgive me, I must take my leave." He gave her the full Sandburg smile before turning and quickly striding away, carefully not looking at Goldar or any of his cronies. He gave a soft moan, along with a prayer that he wouldn't cross paths with the Zedd's foreman anytime in the near future, when he heard Eve speaking again behind him.
"Now, Mr. Goldar, what can I offer you for your kind, if ineffectual, assistance?"
TS TS TS
Thaddeus Finster was a small man, barely over five feet tall, with prematurely white hair and pinched, almost rodent-like features. His looks were not improved by his square framed glasses or prominent front teeth, nor by his tendency to rather 'scuttle' about. A lifetime of being picked on, by childhood bullies, his father, then later his employers and/or coworkers had left him with a nervous stutter that belied his intelligence.
For, despite appearances, Thaddeus had a brilliant mind for science, especially chemistry, which the Zedds had found numerous uses for since they first 'rescued' Finster from a gang of townspeople who were amusing themselves by abusing the little man. As it turned out, he simply traded one kind of abuse for another, but was too unaware to notice this. His 'saviors' belittled and used him; he served as their cook and butler, and in his spare time experimented with various chemicals and plants, designing poisons and potions for them on demand. For this he received food, a small room, and an occasional bit of praise when the Zedds were in good spirits.
He was happier than he'd ever been in his life, and was devoted to Gaylord and Rita Zedd.
The Zedds had requested he formulate a poison that could be dissolved in a water hole, would kill cattle and any other creature who drank the water, but that could be neutralized later, leaving the waterhole safe again. They'd planned to use it on the Kaplans if necessary, but they'd folded and moved on before that was required, which pleased Zedd no end. It was always best to use different methods each time he drove someone to move, and he figured that Ellison would be pretty easy to scare off, given all the kids that would be put in peril.
"Finster! Did you forget to bake the peach pie I requested?" Rita Zedd's voice was reminiscent of fingernails on a chalkboard, but to Finster it was music to his soul.
"Of course not, my Queen, " he replied, using the title Rita enjoyed so.
"Good. And it had better be up to my standards this time," she ordered, sweeping out of the kitchen. "You don't want a repeat of last time."
She went into the library, intending to read the newest catalogs from back East and indulge in her favorite pastime of spending Gaylord's money. Her progress was stopped by the angry voices from her husband's study, and curious, she went on in without knocking.
"When I send you on an errand to town I do NOT expect you to spend your time in useless flirtation with a child who wouldn't give you a second glance," Zedd growled out at Goldar, who stood fuming in front of him.
"If you want to preserve your reputation of being good citizens of Cascade, it is necessary for us, as your employees, to do 'good deeds'," the foreman explained tightly.
"Fine, fine. Do good deeds, if it doesn't interfere with your job. But, I don't think getting revenge on Sandburg is going to be classified as a good deed," was the sarcastic reply from his angry boss.
"He made me look a fool!" Goldar all but shouted.
"Like that's so difficult to do," Rita snorted in disdain.
Gaylord shot his wife a warning look before turning again to his employee. "Which he couldn't have done if you'd done what you were told to and not tried to impress a hollow headed girl."
"He is going to pay!"
"You are not going to lay one finger on Blair Sandburg," Zedd said dangerously. "We are close to our goal, and if you stir up trouble now all our efforts could be for nothing. AFTER we have driven Ellison out, then you can do whatever you want to Sandburg. Hell, I'll give him to you as a gift if you want, but for now you will KEEP AWAY FROM HIM. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," the younger man ground out, tipping his hat at Rita before stalking out of the study.
"*I* won't lay a hand on him."
To be continued...