Author's Notes and Disclaimer: Much as I would love to, I don't own Indiana, Mutt or Marion Jones. The story is set in a somewhat alternate universe. It's 1957 and Mutt is sixteen, so he wasn't born until 1941, after the events in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.
Warnings: There is a some moderate language and one scene of a non-sexual parental spanking. If that's not your thing or if it upsets your sensibilities, please don't read further or skip over that part. It's nothing gaphic and I make no personal opinion about the spanking of children.
Henry "Mutt" Jones stood at the door of the new home that he and his parents were moving into. It was a university owned home and, as his father declared, much more suitable for a family to live in. Yeah right, like they were a real family or something. Ever since Indiana Jones found out about them, all he did was crack on Mutt as if he had the right. He didn't, Mutt decided, and he'd be damned if he was going to roll over and play daddy's boy for him.
Indy was pulling their bags out of the trunk of his new burgundy Hudson Hornet and whistled to get his son's attention. "Hey, Junior, how about making yourself useful and grab a bag? It's just a house, you know. I'm not sending you to your doom."
"Yeah right, Pops," the sixteen year old grumbled, grabbing a bag. "It's like hell in the form of suburbia."
"Get moving, Wise Guy," Indy sighed. He didn't have any idea how to get through to the boy and that he only wanted what was truly best for him. At times, he felt a bit angry that Marion never told him but he also understood that she'd been angry, hurt and betrayed by him. While he could spend an eternity regretting the past, Indy decided that he would be the best possible father and husband that he could now.
The boy rolled his eyes before heading into the house where his mother was checking out the kitchen. She stepped out and waved Indy over. "Um, Jones, there's something you need to see in here," she said, which garnered Mutt's attention as he craned his neck to look in. There was a blonde standing by the door that looked about the same age as Mutt, holding a bundle of laundry. She gave Mutt a modest looking over.
Indy stuck his head in and gave the girl a semi-smile. "Susan, why aren't you at school?" he asked which got both Marion and Mutt's attention.
"You know her?" Mutt asked.
"No, I just guessed," Indy replied, smacking his son in the back of the head. "Susan and her parents used to be my neighbors."
"Watch the hair, Old Man," Mutt said, giving his father a death glare.
Indy then returned his attention to the young visitor. "So what are you doing here?"
"You left before your shirts were ready last time," the girl replied, offering the wrapped package of laundry which Marion took. "I thought I'd better deliver them before you dashed off again."
"No more dashing for me, Kid. What do I owe you?" Indy asked pulling out his wallet.
"Three dollars and seventy-five cents," Susan replied, looking embarrassed and flushed at Marion and Mutt. Indy handed her four dollars.
"Twenty five cents for delivery," he said. "Tell your mom I said thanks but I guess I won't need her to wash my shirts for me anymore. You better get back to school before you miss any more work."
"Yes, Sir, I'll let her know," Susan replied and left through the back door quickly.
"Straight back to school," Indy yelled out the door while Mutt made gagging noises behind his back. So it seemed that he decided to lord over everyone's kids, not just his own.
"Thanks for introducing us," Marion said, smacking her new husband on the arm.
"Sorry, Honey. It slipped my mind," Indy replied, rubbing where his wife had hit him.
Mutt watched the blonde dart across the yard and out into an alley behind the house. His parents were talking about something but he'd ceased listening almost immediately. It's not like they ever said anything important to him anyway. Do this; do that; you're going to school. It was all a variation on a theme; a theme that the youngest Jones was thoroughly exhausted with.
"Junior," Indy repeated for the fourth time, this time accentuating it with a smack. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Don't call me that," Mutt snapped.
"I said that you'll be going to the same school with Susan so you might as well try to make friends," Indy said. "Believe me, it was no small feat to get you into Gate. You're lucky your exams were so damn good."
"Yeah, 'cause I sure as hell wouldn't want to make you look bad," Mutt yelled.
Indy grabbed his son and tossed him over his shoulder much to Mutt's protests, and his mother's surprise. "Marion, he's been asking for his comeuppance for a week now and I've tried to be nice about it but now, I've just had enough," Indy said heading out the back door and into the garage.
"Put me down, you asshole!" Mutt yelled, trying to punch the old man in the back but managing little more than a few pitiful hits that wouldn't have hurt a six year old. All the while, his old man was peppering his backside with stinging swat after swat.
Mutt was no sooner back on his own feet, than his father had pulled him across his lap and was laying into his jean clad bottom. After the first dozen smacks, Mutt was definitely feeling the effects of his father's strong hand. Another dozen later and the boy's resolve to take the spanking in silence was giving way to short ragged breaths as he tried to focus on anything other than the pain in his bottom. He looked at the oil spot on the floor, the dust swirling from the breeze underneath the door. A dozen more solid stinging smacks and his stubbornness gave way to the first pricks of tears in his eyes. After half a dozen more smacks to his burning backside, he was crying out apologies as if he were a small child. A handful more spanks and he was truly repentant and begging his father to stop.
Mutt knew he'd been pushing and pushing ever since they were in Peru and he knew it was stupid but couldn't stop himself. He wasn't sure how long he was bent over his father's knee being patted on his back until the sobs quieted to hiccups and embarrassed face rubbing.
"Now can we talk without the attitude?" Indy asked standing his son up. Wordlessly, Mutt nodded and crossed his arms over his chest trying to hold in another round of guilty sobbing. Indy knew that look, having worn it often enough as a boy after his father had walloped his rear and took his son in his arms which broke the last of the last of Mutt's defiance. He wrapped his arms around his father's waist and buried his head and sobbed as if his heart were broken. "It's all right, Kid. It's all over."
"I'm sorry, Dad," Mutt said into his father's chest. "Please don't hate me."
Indiana kissed the boy's head and pulled his face up to meet eye to eye. "Son, I will never hate you. It breaks my heart that it had to come to this, Kiddo, honest. But, I'd rather shatter my own heart a thousand times than let you think that no one cares enough about you to stop your bad behavior."
"I couldn't…," Mutt hiccupped. "I thought that you were only trying to get Mom to love you again and I wouldn't matter. I wanted to hurt you before you hurt me."
"I know, Son. Now just relax for a minute and let's talk. First of all, you are always going to matter to me," Indy said. "Now that I know, there's nothing in this world that matters to me more. Secondly, you are going back to school and Gate's the best alternative school in the state."
"I don't want to go to another prep school where I don't fit in," Mutt replied, steadying his breath. "I'm sick of being a fream."
"Gate isn't a prep school," Indy said, sitting his son on his knee, despite his really being too big. "I know you're smart, Mutt. Your test scores prove that. I just don't think that you're a mainstream student. The school is open tomorrow so we can go and have a look around. I want you to give me your word that you'll give Gate your best effort."
"I will, Dad," Mutt said, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his nose. Indy stood his son up.
"There's one more thing we have to deal with since we're out here," Indy said, pulling the tarp from the boy's motorcycle. "If it's allowed, you can ride your bike to and from school but you skip off even once and it's impounded until you're eighty. Now let's go in before your mother thinks I'm tearing your backside off."
"It'd probably hurt less if you had," Mutt moped. Indy pulled his son into a one armed hug.
"I'd be really happy if I never had to do that again, Kid," he said. "We'll talk about the rules a little later."
"Do I get any say?" Mutt asked as they walked back to the house. He opened the door and his dad held it so he could go in first.
"Not on the big stuff but maybe we can come to some compromises on the smaller issues," Indy said. "Go up to your room and clean up. We'll order in for dinner."
"Yes, Sir," Mutt said, charging up the stairs.
Marion looked from her husband to her son but didn't ask questions. They seemed to work something out for themselves and she knew from the subdued behavior of her son that he'd gotten the business end of Indiana Jones' hand.
Indy wrapped his arms around his wife and leaned his head on her shoulder. "I'm getting too old for this," he moaned. "I'm exhausted."
"Welcome to parenthood, Doctor Jones," she said, sympathetically.
Up in his room, Mutt was taking his time checking out his new room, with his very own bathroom that he didn't have to share with his folks. Technically, it was connected to the guest room but it wasn't like he'd have to share it with someone every day. He pulled out a picture of his mom and him when he was four that he kept with him all the time. At his many various schools, he was usually ridiculed for it but he hadn't cared.
He sat down on his bed and immediately regretted not being gentler as his dad had really done a number on his rear. He supposed it could have been worse considering that his dad had walloped him over his clothes and only with his hand. Since he was already sitting, Mutt decided to lie down for just a minute and kicked his boots off. He felt like the weight of the world was off his shoulders at the moment and he was exhausted.
Before he knew what happened, he felt his mom shaking him awake. "Sweetheart, your dad just brought dinner home from the pizzeria. You've been asleep for a couple of hours."
Mutt groaned and rolled over to look at his mom. "Sorry, I didn't realize I was that tired."
Marion helped him sit up. "Honey, you know your dad loves you, right?"
"Yeah I know, Mom," Mutt said. "We talked about it."
"Come down and get some dinner, Honey," Marion said. "Your dad got pepperoni, mushroom and sausage. You both have the same taste in toppings. Enjoy it, too, since we're going to be living on my cooking after this."
"God we may not survive," Mutt joked, following his mother down the stairs.
They sat down at the table to eat and Mutt remembered to sit carefully as his father handed him a plate, content that his son was not glaring at him and was making an effort to be part of the family.
"Dad?" Mutt said, after swallowing some pizza. "You said that we're going to look around the school tomorrow?"
"That's the plan, Junior," Indy said.
"Tomorrow's Saturday so why's the school open?" he asked, not looking up from his plate.
"The school is open every day," Indy replied. "The school's an experiment that seems to be getting some excellent results. The majority of the students test above their peers across the state. Some pretty good stuff coming out of these kids."
Mutt rolled his eyes. "Dad, don't start putting that kind of pressure on me. What if I'm not the smartest?"
It was at that moment that the famous Indiana Jones felt a light bulb go off in his head. The kid wasn't worried about his peers; he was worried about comparing to him. "I told you earlier, Kid; all we want is for you to do your best. Don't worry about who's smarter."
"You said we were gonna talk about rules and negotiations," Mutt said, wanting to know ahead of time what guidelines they thought he needed.
"We already discussed school," Indy said, choosing not to rehash the subject. "I know you were boozing in Peru, Kid, and that doesn't happen again. It impairs judgment."
"Why didn't you stop him?" Marion asked, giving her son the patented mom glare.
"There was a lot going on and I didn't know he was my kid then," Indy defended himself. "Anyway, that is one of the non-negotiable rules. Let's talk about curfew. Eight o'clock on school nights and in bed by ten and ten o'clock and in bed by eleven on the weekends, I think."
"I'm not eight!" Mutt protested. "What about ten during the week and one on weekends?"
"Nine during the week and eleven on weekends," Marion countered the offer.
"Nine thirty and twelve," Mutt retorted, "and I'll put in an hour of studying on Saturday."
"You're straight home from school. Homework and chores are done and you have dinner here before you go anywhere and it's a deal," Indy said.
"Agreed," Mutt said. "I think there should be a stipulation that getting kidnapped doesn't count against missing curfew since it seems to happen in this family more than it should. I need a little insurance about it."
Indy covered his mouth with his napkin to hide a laugh. "Okay. Fair enough. Any kidnappings won't be held against you."
"I wanna get a part time job to earn my own cash," Mutt continued.
"No," Indy said, flat out. "You'll get an allowance and can do work around the house for extra cash, if you need it. Your job is to get an education."
"But I want to work as a mechanic," Mutt argued. "I won't be able to do that here."
"School first," Marion looked at her husband in agreement.
"But I'll be in school another two years," Mutt sighed. "I really want to work with engines."
"Tell you what, Kid," Indy said. "If you're doing well in school and can handle what you've got, we'll talk about it again in six months."
"Three months," Mutt said.
"You keep track of your progress and give yourself an honest appraisal of your strengths and weaknesses and we'll talk again in four months," Indy said, now putting his empty plate to the side. "If we hear from the school that you're in trouble, you can expect to be in trouble here too."
Mutt swallowed hard. He knew exactly what his father meant by that. "What if I'm not at fault for something but I still get in trouble? Can I tell my side before you pass judgment?"
"Of course, Sweetheart," Marion said. "We're not going to punish you unfairly."
"But if you know you've done something wrong, we do expect you'll come clean of your own accord," Indy added.
"That's kinda wishful thinking, Pops," Mutt replied. Both his parents laughed at that moment of brutal honesty.
"Okay, point taken," Indy said. "I think we've covered the large issues and it's useless to try and hit every possibility in one night. We should all get some shut eye. We got a busy day tomorrow."
Morning came much earlier than Mutt would have liked and he was yanked from his peaceful slumber by his father's pounding on his door. He couldn't believe that after napping earlier, he'd gotten a full night's sleep; the first he could remember in a long time.
After being made to change into his suit, they all piled in the car and headed to Gate High School for the Gifted. Mutt's first thought was that the place didn't look at all like a school. It was a single level octagonal building with some other buildings abutting the expanses of lawns and an arboretum.
After inspecting the grounds just briefly, the Jones family went inside to look around the school but instead of finding classrooms filled with perfectly lined up desks and a teacher at the head of the room, there were round tables with five chairs per table, situated like a discussion group. There were walls full of books; each room looked like it sported its own library! Mutt took a look at some of the selection: Andersonville, As I Lay Dying, Black Boy, The Catcher in the Rye; books that had been banned at his other schools and he'd caught hell for reading.
"This doesn't look like any of my other schools," Mutt said, looking over the place with a critical eye.
"I told you. It's an experimental school; though I have to admit this looks very odd," Indy said heading off to the administration office.
"I think it looks very relaxed and nice," Marion said, looking over the wooden bookcases and carpeted floor. "What do you think, Honey?"
"I might survive here," Mutt said, trying to sound disinterested. He didn't want to admit that the place looked like it had potential. After all, he couldn't give his folks the satisfaction of winning every battle.
Indy returned. "The headmaster's in, Marion; we should talk to him before it gets much later. Mind yourself, Kid. We'll be back soon."
Mutt noticed the blonde that had been at his house the day before as she was reaching for a book on a high shelf. Hell, just because he was a greaser and a rebel didn't mean he was going to ignore the obvious. She was a cute blonde with a nice ass; he wasn't going to miss that chance. He stepped over and pulled the book down for her.
"Thanks," she said taking the book from him. "It's a little tough being short like this."
"Glad to help; I'm Mutt," he introduced himself. "Jones."
"How do you do, Mutt? I'm Susan March," she replied. "Will you be attending or are you just visiting?"
"I'm supposed to come here. How is it?" Mutt asked.
"It's a fine school if you're disciplined enough," Susan answered, wiping the dust from her hands. "Most of our work is self motivated and you can study just about anything you want outside of the mandatory subjects."
"So what sorts of things do most people study?" he asked, trying to get a feel for the place.
"Well, there's art history, philosophy, sociology, chemistry, physics, astronomy," she paused a moment, "Archeology, if you can get the books."
"Is that a big subject around here?" Mutt asked, inwardly groaning.
"Not really. It's just that some of us can't reach that high," she chuckled, patting the book. "Thanks again. I hope you don't think I'm being rude, but I'd like to finish this research before I have to leave."
"What's your rush? It's Saturday," Mutt said. "Do they lock you in if you're not done at a certain time?"
"No, it's just that I work at the diner by the train station and I'm picking up a shift," she replied. "I'm working the counter if you want to stop by later and I could tell you a bit more about school. The daily stuff, you know; the things that the old folks don't tell you about."
"Sure, if you don't think you'll be too busy," Mutt grinned.
"A diner in a college town on the Saturday before the start of classes… why would I be too busy?" she joked. "It'll be fine so long as you ignore the freshman assholes from Marshall."
Mutt laughed. "So, what are you looking up?" he asked.
"It's not anything really important," she replied, pushing a notebook aside. "It's just easier to work here on a Saturday when there aren't as many people around."
"C'mon, show me what you're working on," he said, employing the famous Jones smile.
"You'll think it's stupid," she argued. "But if you promise not to laugh, I'll show you."
"I promise not to laugh at you," he said, motioning an over exaggerated cross on his heart.
She opened the notebook and showed him some pieces of maps and notes associated with each region. "My dad's in Indochina going from village to village and gathering all this information about legends and historical sites. He sends me these maps and little trinkets and stuff that he comes across. Since I can't see these things for myself, this is my way of being close to my dad."
"That's kind of cool," Mutt said, looking over the maps. "Your dad's an archeologist too?"
"No, a history professor," Susan laughed. "Mom said he's having a mid-life crisis since his students started comparing his lectures to Doctor Jones'. I'm guessing it was just too hard an act to follow for him."
"I know the feeling," Mutt said, looking over to the office where his parents were finishing up their talk with the head of the school. "What are all these pieces of maps for?"
"They're a map of parts of Indochina where my dad's been nosing around," Susan said. "He sent me this weird old oil lamp he came across."
Marion started waving Mutt over. "Well, maybe some other time," he said.
"Must've gone okay since no one's tearing ass out of his office," Susan commented. "Not everyone digs Mister Dean's rap, y'know?"
"Cool, Baby, you're hip," Mutt said, giving her a friendly nudge.
"Junior," Indy called over to get his son's attention and causing a genuine glare of irritation on the teen's face.
"Ouch," Susan chuckled. "If looks could kill, your old man would be six feet under and pushing up the daisies by now."
"Yeah, I better see what's happening. See you later, alligator," Mutt winked.
"In a while, crocodile," she returned closing her books and gathering her things. "Hey, word of advice…"
"Yeah?" he asked looking back.
"Lose the tie; you looked better yesterday," she said with a grin, darting out the door.
The pleased look on Mutt's face was undeniable, particularly considering that his father rolled his eyes when he heard the compliment.
'What are these kids coming to?' he thought as his son approached grinning ear to ear. "Mister Dean, this is our son, Henry."
The principal was a large man with silver hair with a full mustache and beard. "I'm pleased to meet you, Henry, and welcome to the Gate School for Exceptional Students. I've assured your parents that our curriculum of arts, sciences and community development are perfect for a young man of your talents. Do you have any questions?"
"Uh, no, not right now," Mutt replied, looking distracted. Indy gave him a nudge with his arm.
"You're being rude," Indy whispered to his son.
"Sorry, I just can't think of anything to ask right now," Mutt defended.
"Old men can hold no candle of interest in comparison to a pretty girl, yes?" the principal laughed. "I expect you in on Monday morning, Mister Jones. You'll start in lecture room 8 with the upper 11th students. Classes start at eight thirty."
"Sir," Mutt began, "is it okay if I ride my motorcycle to school?"
"Certainly, Henry," Mister Dean replied. "As long as you're here, we don't mind how you travel. In fact, our students find all manner of ways to get here. Car, bike, roller skates; it's all the same to us. Your folks have the list of everything you'll need. You folks are welcome to look around but I do have to be going. My wife's having the neighbors over for bridge." He shook the young man's hand. "Welcome to Gate, Henry."
"It's Mutt," he said.
"Junior!" Indy scolded resisting the urge to give his son a good smack. "I'm sorry. It seems my son has forgotten his manners."
"Not to worry, Doctor Jones. We like our students to be comfortable," Mister Dean said, clapping Mutt on the back. "If the use of a nickname encourages him to come back, then by all means, we will stick with Mutt. Good day, Doctor, Mrs. Jones… Mutt."
Mutt looked entirely pleased with how his day was going so far. Indy was feeling a lot less certain about the environment but he'd just handed over a very large check for tuition and would wait to see if his son flourished at the school. He just didn't think there was enough discipline at the school for his liking.
"So what do you think, Honey?" Marion asked Mutt.
"I suppose that I'll survive," Mutt said noncommittally. Once they'd piled into the car, he decided that it would be the best time to ask since his dad was looking pretty relaxed having let go of his irritation with Mutt. "Susan asked me to stop over at the diner where she's working later. She said she'd tell me more about the daily grind here. Can I go?"
"We'll see. You still owe us an hour of studying and your room's still mostly in boxes," Indy said. "Besides, you still have dinner at the house with us."
"You told me to make friends and now you want me to stay home," Mutt complained. "Surely newlyweds could find something better to do with their time than hang with teenagers."
"Oh for God's sake, Jones, let him go," Marion said. "He'll just pout if he stays home."
"I do not pout!" Mutt said, crossing his arms across his chest.
--
Mutt sat at the counter of Frank's Diner and quickly realized that Susan hadn't been exaggerating about the state of the place on a Saturday night. He wondered if maybe he shouldn't suggest to his dad that they institute some kind of course on manners at Marshall after witnessing the college kids acting worse than a pack of hungry dogs on a lame cat. He remarked was impressed with the ability of the waitresses to dodge flying hamburgers, jump rivers of purposely spilled drinks, and play tough bill collector with those that tried to ditch on their checks. Of course for the difficult customers, out came Frank from the back; a six foot tall three hundred pound mammoth of a man who looked as if he could break most of the eggheads in half without breaking a sweat.
"Is it like this every weekend?" Mutt asked Susan as she caught a moment to catch her breath and she brought him a burger, fries and coke. "What do I owe you?"
"Don't worry about it; my treat. This is first weekend stupidity. It usually calms down after everyone knows the rules. Frank's not worried about banning the real jerks and he remembers them all," Susan said, seeing a couple of gentlemen in suits sit at the far end of the counter. "Duty calls. Be right back."
Mutt was starting to think that living like a regular teenager might not be so bad. Hanging at a diner, working on his bike, a fella could get used to letting someone else worry about the day to day crap. Mutt watched the two men that were ordering and the serious look on Susan's face. Something didn't seem quite right about the whole thing. She pushed an order sheet onto the spinner and made her way back to his end of the counter.
"Everything okay?" he asked, finishing his coke. Susan gave him a smile and pointedly did not look back at the two gentlemen.
"You ever get a really bad feeling about someone?" she asked quietly. He nodded. "Those two are giving me the creeps something fierce."
'Oh man. Don't tell me…' Mutt thought. "What are they looking for?"
"They haven't said yet, but I have a good idea," she whispered. "I know we don't know each other very well, but could I ask you a great favor?"
"Shoot," he said. "I can't resist a damsel in distress."
"If you'd just take my school bag with you when you leave, I could get it from you later," she whispered. "Please?"
"Sure," Mutt replied. "But maybe you should come with me."
"That might be too dangerous," she said.
"Maybe, but danger is in the Jones blood," Mutt said, offering her a grin and his eyes glinting with mischief. Susan handed over the bag and he took her hand. "Jump."
"What? Jump where?" she asked.
"Over the counter; Now!" he ordered as she climbed up and he lifted her over. The two suited men stood and drew weapons. "Oh Shit. Um, run…"
"This way," Susan said, taking him around to the kitchen.
"Hey, Suzie, no customers in da kitchen!" Frank yelled as they ran through.
"Sorry, Frank, I'll call later," Susan said, blasting past with Mutt. The suited men charged in behind them and snagged Susan up by the collar. Mutt found a knife on the prep table and threw it, pinning the man's arm to the wall by his jacket sleeve.
"No customers in my kitchen!" Frank said, tussling with the two men in order to give the teens a chance to escape.
"My bike's out front," Mutt said, half dragging Susan along with him. They charged to the front and Mutt kicked the bike into life. He peeled out of the parking lot and tore away as the men followed, firing at the motorcycle. Mutt shifted to one side and attempted to dodge the fire. Susan let out a scream right in his ear. "We need to find somewhere to hide out… Pop is gonna kill me."
"I'm sorry, Mutt. I just wanted you to take the bag. You didn't have to do all of this," Susan said.
"We'll just blame it on my dad. It's something in the blood," Mutt said. He would have grinned except that there were people shooting at them. "Maybe I should take you to my place. Dad has a ton of experience with people trying to kill him. He might know what to do."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Susan asked.
"I dunno," Mutt replied, stopping the bike, "but if you have a better idea; I'm all ears, Baby doll."
"I mean, what if those guys have gone to our houses already? We could be walking into a trap," Susan said, wrapping her arms around her torso. "I know a place where I could hideout and you could go home. Let me off over by Riverview Park. I can walk to it from there and you can say honestly you don't know where I am. I'll figure out something."
"No way in hell I'm doing that. I mean, if you got into trouble; how would I find you?" Mutt said putting his jacket around her shoulders. "Look, my dad's a pill but he's not a rat. Let's just see what he has to say."
"I don't really see any other way out of this," Susan agreed putting her arms through the sleeves. "Let's go."
Mutt headed toward home and as they pulled up to the driveway, he saw a police cruiser's lights flashing around the front of the house. "Damn," he said as he closed the garage door behind him. "At least I don't think they can see back here easily."
He looked around and pointed up to the loft above the car. "Climb up there and hide. I'll come out and get you when the coast is clear."
"All right, but don't forget about me up here," Susan said, climbing atop the car and boosting herself up and swearing. He threw her a blanket as she tossed down his jacket.
"Hide under that, relax and don't make any noise. I'll be back as quick as I can," Mutt said, exiting from the smaller door.
"He tromped through the kitchen door and tried to act nonchalant. "Hey, I'm home!" he called out and he immediately heard two frantic sets of footsteps heading at him like gangbusters.
"Honey, you're all right!" Marion exclaimed, throwing her arms around her son. "You are all right, aren't you?"
"Henry Walton Jones, you have about two seconds to tell me why the police and the FBI are here looking for you?" Indiana said, his face paled and his entire body shaking as he grabbed the boy's jacket. Really, he wanted to grab Mutt and give him the biggest hug he'd ever gotten but until he found out what happened; he wasn't going to lose himself. Mutt recognized one of the men who'd chased them was standing at the doorway.
"Dad, it's not my fault. Honest, it isn't!" Mutt said. "I was hanging at the diner and these guys were making Susan nervous and when we tried to ditch out the back, they started chasing us and he," the young man pointed accusingly at the man in the doorway, "shot at us and I don't know why."
"Where is Miss March now?" the suited man demanded.
"Dunno. She took off when I stopped at a red light," Mutt said taking off his jacket.
"Indy!" Marion yelled, seeing blood on Mutt's shirt. "He's been shot! They shot my baby!"
Indy grabbed his son up in his arms and took him to the living room, much to Mutt's protests. "Where's it hurt, Son?"
"It doesn't, Dad," Mutt answered, looking at his shirt. "It's not my blood."
"You better tell us where she is, Son," the police officer said, doing his best to sound kind and paternal. "Looks like your little girlfriend's hurt."
"I told you already that I don't know," Mutt growled. It was time to put on the best acting job of his lifetime. Mutt began increasing his breathing to make it look like he was having a nervous attack. "She jumped off my bike and took off. We were close to Marshall. She might have gone to hide out there somewhere. You gotta find her! She's hurt and it's his fault."
"Where's the lamp?" the man asked roughly.
"Get out of my house!" Marion snarled at the man as Indy looked over their son carefully. "You shot at my son. You have no further business here."
"Doctor Jones, your exploits are well documented…" the man started threateningly.
"I don't give a hot damn if they have my hat size on file. You'll leave or I'll get my own gun and have a shot at you," Indy said raising to his full height and doing his best to hold back his wife who was desperately trying to get at the man. "You want one word out of my son, you better have J. Edgar Hoover send me a personal telegram with an apology."
"He's worse than the damn Reds," Mutt said, antagonizing the man. "Shooting at unarmed people is something that they'd do. Why don't you go and join your comrades in the Kremlin?"
The police officer took the FBI agent by the arm and pulled him toward the door. "I'll stop by in the morning to get your son's statement, Doctor Jones. You want me to radio dispatch to get a doctor to come over?"
"Thanks but no. We'll get him to bed and he'll be fine in the morning," Indy said. "He's just a bit shook up, I think. Having someone shooting at a sixteen year old kid is probably bound to shake a body up."
"G'night, Doc, Ma'am," the officer said.
Once the officers were well away from the house, Mutt stood up and ran for the kitchen door but Indy grabbed him before he got outside. "Wait. The other one is snooping around out there."
"But Susan…" Mutt began.
"Go get my gun from my left hand desk drawer," Indy instructed. "Marion, I'm going out. Aim for the one that's not me."
Indy looked into the darkness and watched the man looking into the windows of the garage. Quietly, he approached the man and cold-cocked the man and tossed him into the back alley where he stumbled to a car and it sped off. Indy flipped on the light in the garage and looked around. "Susan!" he called out. "Susan, answer me!"
He saw the blanket move and Susan's sat up looking pale and pasty. "Hi, Doctor Jones," she said, holding her arms tightly around her midsection. "Sorry for the trouble. It wasn't Mutt's fault."
"Come down from there," he ordered, reaching up to help her down from the loft. "I don't suppose there's going to be an easy answer to all of this, is there?"
"No, Sir," she replied as she hissed in pain from the jostling.
"First thing's first, we'll call your mom to let her know you're okay," Indy said.
"You can't!" Susan argued and immediately backpedalled. "I mean, she's away right now so she doesn't even know anything's wrong."
"Come on, Susan," Indy scolded, helping her down from the car's roof and putting an arm under her to steady her on her feet which wasn't easily happening. Realizing that she was possibly going into shock, he picked her up. "Where's your mom?"
She lost consciousness before she could answer and Indy put her on the dining room table. He tore away her blouse from the wound to inspect it.
"Is she going to die?" Mutt asked, trying not to look at his new friend on the table. It would just figure that he'd make a friend and have her get killed.
"It's just a grazing wound but she's lost a fair bit of blood," Indy said, clapping his son on the shoulder. "We'll be able to manage it here, except for the antibiotics."
Marion brought her first aid kit that she'd kept with her for years to clean the wound and wrap it. She handed Mutt some smelling salts. "I need her awake, Honey. Wave that under her nose. Jones, get me some bandages."
Mutt shoved the wretched smelling bottle under Susan's nose. "Wake up. You ain't allowed to die today," Mutt told her.
"I'm awake," she gagged as pain wracked her body. She reached up to push the smelling salts away from her face. "God, that stinks."
"They're supposed to," Indy said, tearing some towels for bandages. "You must have quite a story to tell if you're getting shot. First of all, where's your mom?"
"She's away," Susan said, returning to her original story.
"Away where and when's she coming back?" Indy demanded. "Who have you been staying with?"
"Last I heard, she was in Chicago," Susan answered bitterly. "I've been staying on my own. I'm not a child, you know."
"Does your dad know? I know he's on sabbatical from work, but surely he'd come home if he knew about your being alone," Indy said, watching as Marion wrapped up the girl's wound. He tried to keep his voice even but he was furious at the whole situation and had no good immediate outlet. His son could have been seriously hurt or killed for something that was none of his affair and his blood was boiling.
"He writes to me but he's moving around so much I don't know how to contact him. He's in China somewhere right now," she replied, trying not to look the man in the eyes. "It's no big deal. I can take care of myself and no one even knows about the camper in the woods past Riverview Park."
"I see," Indy remarked sarcastically. "Except for being shot, you're taking care of yourself very well. What did they want from you?"
"I'm guessing it has something to do with the maps and stuff he's been sending me," she began to explain.
"Empty the bag, Kid," Indy demanded. "Let's see just what was so damn important. If you want to risk your own life, that's your choice, but when you chose to involve my kid, you made the biggest damn mistake of your life. I should have let the feds have you."
"Dad!" Mutt yelled, his temper rising. "That's not fair!"
"Junior, I'm not in a mood to be trifled with. I'm relieved that you're okay but I want to see what this mess is about," Indy snapped, grabbing the bag and tossing out her notebooks and a small box. He roughly opened the box and pulled out what appeared to be an old oil lamp. He threw it back at her with the fullest force he could muster. "This is it? My son got shot at for a cheap piece of tin?"
"Jones, take it easy," Marion said, helping the girl cover up. "You're getting overwrought."
"I'm sorry, Doctor Jones," Susan whispered, swallowing hard.
"You're not even at the start of sorry, Miss March," Indy growled at the girl, grabbing her by the throat and starting to squeeze. The girl's eyes went wide as she struggled to breathe. "You could have gotten my son killed."
For all those years, and all the people who tried to hurt him or the people he cared about, this would be the last damn person he allowed to harm his family. Mutt jumped on his back, trying to pry his father's hands from Susan's throat. He punched his dad in the head and Indy pulled his hand away from her throat but still had a firm grip on the girl's arm.
"Mutt, take Susan up to the guest room," Marion said, forcibly removing Indy's vice like grip from the coughing and sputtering girl. "We'll talk in the morning."
After the two teens were out of earshot, Marion rounded on her husband. "What in the hell is wrong with you, Jones? You could have killed that girl! I've seen you treat your enemies with more decency."
Indy ran his hands through his hair and growled. "Damn it, it has to be somebody's fault. Who should I blame?"
"Go for a walk!" Marion demanded. "Our son's been through enough for one night and his friend needs someone to help her. Now if you want to alienate him, you go ahead and keep ranting. Maybe we should be thankful that there's no revolution for him to run away and join."
Indy grabbed his coat and keys and stormed out the front door to take a walk as his wife suggested. She had been correct that he needed to calm down. After all, Mutt hadn't gone looking for trouble unlike he did at that age. He also regretted his suggestion that the boy get to know Susan. He'd known her since she was in pre-school and yet, it didn't make him want to kill her any less, however. His hand clenched and unclenched recalling the pressure he'd put on the girl's throat, feeling himself trying to squeeze the life out of her. He wondered if his wife and son hadn't been there, if he would have really murdered her. It made him sick to think that he'd just assaulted the girl; a child who had no one else to rely on.
He wanted to live a quiet life with as few complications as possible as Doctor Henry Jones, husband, father and associate dean. This wasn't the way to start out!
After an hour, Indy returned home, chilled from the weather and his head clearer and ready to look at the lamp and whatever else the girl had that would be of use. The house was quiet with only the light in the living room to indicate that Marion was still awake.
"Hi, Honey," he said quietly as he kissed her cheek. "Is Mutt asleep?"
"Probably not," she replied setting her book aside. "He finally convinced Susan to let me give her a sleeping pill. Come morning, she's going to leave to take care of things herself. Hope you have some ideas to keep your son from taking off with her."
"Depends on what I can figure out about that lamp and its importance," Indy said. "I'm going to talk to Mutt, before he does something stupid."
Indy saw the light on from underneath his son's bedroom door and knocked. "Can I come in?" he called in.
"Get bent," was the reply he got.
"Come on, Son," Indy said, "I just want to talk."
The door unlocked and Indy stepped in to see his son packing a bag. "Going somewhere, Junior?"
"Leaving, what the hell do you care anyway?" Mutt replied, glaring at his father. Indy was too tired to scold or yell at his son that he was doing no such thing so he let the boy rant a while. "I'm leaving with Susan as soon as she can move. I'll help her figure out what's up with the stuff her dad sent. I thought you'd be real earthbound, y'know, not try to kill her."
"I messed up, Kid," Indy admitted, wondering when he was ever going to know what half the new slang was.
"You tried to strangle her," Mutt yelled at his father. "That's way more than messing up. That's psychotic, man."
"Give me a chance to fix it?" Indy asked. "I got scared and stupid. Let me make it right."
"Screw off, Old man. You had your chance. I was stupid to even suggest that we come to you," Mutt spat. "She didn't want to rely on anyone but I said that my dad could help. I really thought you'd be the guy to go to. I sounded like such a little kid thinking you'd be different. Guess you showed me."
"I'm sorry, Mutt," Indy said, sitting in the desk chair. "I let you down. I don't want to lose you, so… please, let me work on this. Where are her things?"
"She's scared to death of you," Mutt said, staying out of his father's reach. "Of course, it shouldn't be a surprise."
"If you get the lamp and her notes, I'll see what I can figure out," Indy said. "I let fear override my better senses. I'll fix this, even if I have to go to China and drag her father back with me, okay? I could use you to be a little forgiving."
Mutt scowled at his father. He wanted to just stay angry at him, call him an asshole and leave, taking Susan with him. The old man was trying, though, and seemed genuine in his apology. He looked so old and tired and Mutt wanted to tell him that he forgave him. "Okay, Dad, but you better not double cross her… or me."
After a few minutes, Mutt returned with the lamp and Susan's notebook. "She was probably a lot more agreeable since Mom gave her some kind of sleeping pill."
"I'll take care of it," Indy promised. "Get some sleep."
"I won't be able to. Can I help?" Mutt asked.
"It won't be much more than me reading through books and trying to identify the era the lamp came from, but you're welcome to sit in the office with me," Indy replied. "Or you can stay up here and get some sleep. You'll need it if you still plan on running away tomorrow."
"Well, what other choice do we have?" Mutt defended himself. "I don't think 'Sorry I tried to strangle you' is going to hold much water for trusting you. Why'd you do that?"
Indy grabbed his son and held him close to him. "Because when I saw that blood and thought it was yours, I got scared, Kid. Stupid scared that I wanted to hurt someone else to make my fear go away."
"You have a sick way of showing you care, man," Mutt replied, muffled from his dad clutching the boy to his chest.
He flipped on his desk lamp and cleared some dust from the inscription on the lamp with a loose brush. The lamp was a smallish bronze oil lamp with a round indentation atop the lid, crusted with years of sand and dirt. He looked at the inscription and referenced a book of ancient writings.
"The legendary lamp of Al Jhadin," he read. "You gotta be kidding me."
End note: I know it took an embarrassingly long trek to get to the Macguffin. Please leave a review.