"Morning," Michael said when Jordan appeared in the living room just after 11:30 the next day, disheveled.

"Hey," replied Jordan sheepishly. "I didn't know I would sleep that long." He smoothed his hair with his hands, trying to make it presentable, but that wasn't possible without gardening shears.

"If I was up before noon when I was a teenager, it was because I was still awake from the night before." Michael leaned forward from his place on the couch to call down the hallway to his room. "Charlie! C'mere for a minute." Nothing. "CHARLIE!" Nothing. "He's amassing an army in our bathroom," explained Michael as he got up. "Apparently it causes him to go deaf. I'll be right back."

Jordan sat on the edge of the couch and looked around. The place looked different today than when he'd first arrived. Guns & Ammo made more sense, for one. So did the gadget on a high shelf near the corner of the room, which he'd thought was a remote control but in fact was a handheld taser.

Little boy giggles got louder as Michael neared the living room holding Charlie upside down by his ankles. Charlie's hair bounced and his face reddened with each footstep.

"Jordan, Charlie. Charlie, Jordan." Michael righted Charlie and set him on his feet, holding his shoulders because he was swaying from dizziness. "Jordan is one of Auntie Fi's and my friends," he told Charlie. "He's the one who slept in your room last night. I only stepped on eight Legos when I was taking him there. Better than the usual twenty, but what happened to picking up your Legos after you play with them, Freddy Krueger?" Freddy Krueger was Charlie's new nickname, bestowed on him by Fiona because his fingernails were razor sharp and seemed to double in length every couple of days. And it was among the many items on a growing list called Don't Tell Maddie.

Charlie burst into a frantic combination of nonsensical syllables and laughter and ran around the room. Jordan stared at him. "That's how he acts when he's nervous," Michael said. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay," replied Jordan. "I guess I should call my mom."

"Got some good news for you, Jordan. Fiona's taking care of that bit of unpleasantness right now."

Jordan furrowed his brow at Michael. By now Charlie had calmed down a bit and was finding the remote to turn on his Thomas and Friends DVD.

"Personally, I say last night is Need To Know, and your mom doesn't need to know. But Fi said it wasn't fair to you to make you keep that secret, and it wasn't fair to your mom because she should know the truth. I disagreed with her on both points, and, well, you can see how well that went. Anyway, she and your mom are having brunch and, I assume, a lot of alcohol."

"Wow. Thanks, man. Umm, I'll just call a cab, I guess." Jordan's face and body language revealed his nervousness at this bizarre, awkward situation.

"Why don't you hang out with us for a bit?" Michael said. "Charlie and I are going golfing."

"He knows how to play golf?"

"Actually, yeah, he's getting pretty good on the putting green. But today I mean miniature golf. Palmetto Park."

Jordan hesitated. "I don't know . . . ." he said softly.

"C'mon. If you keep acting like you're acting now, I see no reason I'll have to abandon you in a parking lot." Michael grinned. "Think of it this way. We're the only people in the city who won't mind your smell right now."

"All right, I guess," said Jordan with a chuckle.

"Excellent." Michael slapped him on the back. "Charlie. Earth to Charlie. Turn off Thomas and get your shoes so we can go."

"Noooo, I wanna watch Thomas!"

"Thomas will be here when we get back. We're going to play golf now."

"Ahhhhhhh goff goff goff goff goff goff goff goff goff goff goff!" Charlie headed to the front door without turning off the TV or getting his shoes. "Less go less go less go less go less go less go less go!"

"Charlie, you ding dong. TV off. Then shoes."

Charlie ran back to the living room, pushed the off button on the remote, and was back at the front door in four seconds flat. Barefoot.

Michael wiped his hand over his face and tried to keep his voice level. "Charlie. What was the other thing?" Charlie looked at him blankly. "What was after the TV?" The light bulb turned on after a couple of seconds. "Soos! I go fine soos!"

"Don't worry," Michael said to Jordan. "It seems normal after a while."

They'd gone a few miles south on US 1 when Michael picked up his phone from the console. "I got two other guys who won't mind your smell," he said. "Really good guys. You'll like 'em." He pressed his speed dial for Jesse. "Jess. Feel like some mini golf? . . . Yeah, me, Charlie, and Jordan. . . . No, Fi's not here. . . ." Michael laughed loudly. "How much you gonna pay me not to repeat that to her? . . . You've raised an interesting question, Jesse. If she doesn't believe it's unsportsmanlike and is not proceeding with that intent, is it in fact unsportsmanlike? . . . In her defense, she was aiming for your thigh, not your nuts. But you moved. . . . No, no, I would've moved, too. I just would've moved faster. . . . Anyway, no Fi today. You in? . . . Great. Palmetto Park. . . . Call Sam for me? . . . He what? . . . ." More loud laughter. "I assume that doesn't affect his beer hand. . . . Good. So tell him to come tell his war story. . . . All right, man. See you in a bit. . . . Bye."

"Charlie," Michael said, hanging up. "Did Sam hurt his hand when you were with him last night?"

"Yah."

"What happened?"

"He, umm, he - we wuh paying Fwoggy Jump and he, umm, umm – I gwew into a dwagon and den he talked weal loud."

Michael thought for a moment. "Okay, you were playing Froggy Jump. Is that where he puts his arm out on the floor and you leapfrog over it?"

"Yah."

"So you were playing Froggy Jump, and you were being a froggy, and then you turned into a dragon?"

"Yah."

"What happened when you turned into a dragon?"

"I stood up and wen like dis. ARGHHHHHHH," Charlie yelled, spewing imaginary fire and clawing his arms like, well, like a dragon. "And den I jumped on his awm."

"You jumped on his arm?"

"Yah."

"Not over his arm, but on his arm?"

"Yah. On his wist."

"On his wrist. Even better. How come?"

"It was an ap-suh-dent."

"I see. You jumped on his arm by accident and then he talked really loud?"

"Uh huh."

"What did he say?" Michael grinned and looked at Jordan.

"He said, 'Choddy Choddy Choddy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy' and then he wen to da potty."

"I bet he did, Charlie. Wow. So did Elsa help him?"

"No, Essa was gone."

"What did he look like when he came out of the potty?"

"He had a big banky awound his neck like a neck-ess and he put his wist in da neck-ess."

"You know what that's called, Charlie?"

"No."

"A sling. He put his arm into a sling so his wrist could rest and be safe." Michael turned his voice to Jordan. "Remember last night I said unprotected sex got you to the trifecta of stupidity?"

"Yeah?" Jordan replied nervously.

"Let this all be a lesson in birth control."

Jordan nodded quickly.

An hour later, the trio was on the fourth hole of the 18-hole miniature golf course. Charlie was an enthusiastic golfer, just not a fast one. His balls landed in lagoons, shrubs, piles of dirt – anywhere but the hole, really. Also he'd needed two pee breaks so far. Watching Jordan squirm with impatience, Michael reflected on his own progress in the patience department over the last two months. He wasn't always all-the-way patient, but most of the time he was mostly patient. And he was proud of that.

"Hey, Jess," Michael called when he saw a lumbering bald guy approaching. "Did they tell you I'd already paid for you?"

"Yeah, yeah, they did. Thanks, man." Jesse extended his hand to Jordan. "Hey, Jordan. Good to meet you. Jesse Porter." Jordan shook hands like a human being this time, which Michael noted. "Char-leeeee," Jesse called. "What's up, little dude?"

"I paying goff!"

"I see that! You having fun?"

"Yah goff is fun." Charlie returned to his important task of looking for bugs in the landscaping. By some (golf) stroke of luck, the nearest group behind them was just starting the first hole. And that group had four kids under the age of ten. So Team Charlie could take its time for now. Or, rather, Charlie could take his time and the others would decide how much to fight it.

"Sam should be here in about twenty minutes," Jesse said. "He was worried we'd be off the course by then, but I see that's not going to be an issue. When'd you guys get here, man?" he laughed.

"Thirty-five minutes ago," Michael said. "I'm choosing my battles."

"Smart," Jesse agreed. "So where do you go to school, Jordan?"

"Coral Gables."

"That's good, that's good. What grade are you in?"

"I'm a sophomore."

"You causing lots of mayhem?" Jesse grinned broadly.

"Umm, I might ease up on the mayhem," Jordan said. "Or he might kill me," he added, looking at Michael.

Michael looked around innocently. "Me? Kill you? C'mon . . . ."

"Wise choice, my friend," said Jesse. "But you know there's nothing you've done he didn't do five times over, right? And then some?"

"Yeah, that's the sense I'm getting. The both of them." Jordan grinned slyly.

"Aw, hell, man, don't even get me started on Fiona. You know they rewrote some of the criminal laws where she grew up based on the crap she did?"

"Seriously?" Jordan asked, wide eyed.

"Just one," Michael answered quickly. "And they'd been meaning to revise that one anyway."

"Wow," said Jordan softly. "I never heard of anybody like that."

"That's our Fi," Jesse told him. "To know her is to fear her."

After they moved another three holes in 25 minutes, Michael decided Team Charlie could use a break. They'd let the growing line of groups behind them play through, and they'd pick up later when the crowds thinned out.

Charlie decided Team Charlie could use snacks. And he was no fool. He bypassed Michael, went to Jesse, took his hand, and pulled him to the counter where bright, enticing photos of mustardy hot dogs and golden chicken tenders all but reached into your wallet for you. A few minutes later, they returned to the table Michael and Jordan had claimed. Jesse set down a large tray of food and drinks. Charlie elbowed Jordan in the arm and almost knocked over two of the drinks as he hoisted himself up on the table, balancing himself on his chest, to get the red plastic basket with his grilled cheese sandwich and fries. He landed on Jesse's foot on his way down and would've dropped the basket if Michael hadn't saved it at the last minute.

"Hungry, Charlie?" Michael asked.

"Mmmm," Charlie grunted through a mouthful of French fries.

"Care to sit down?"

Charlie shook his head no. He wandered around their little area, sandwich in one hand and clump of fries in the other, looking at everything and everyone.

"Come back when you're thirsty and I'll set up the trough."

Charlie nodded and kept munching.

Jesse pulled his vibrating phone from his pocket. "All right, that's Sam," he said, reading the screen. "Evidently there was a wait at the urgent care place and he's stuck there. Says he'll catch up with us later."

"Urgent care," repeated Michael, shaking his head. "You know, he went to a hospital when he got shot. Don't think I've seen him seek medical attention other than that. Charlie must've done a number on his wrist."

"How much does Charlie weigh?" Jordan asked.

Michael blew out a mouthful of air as he thought. "About 35 pounds, I'd guess. Why?"

"And how old is Sam? Your age?"

"No, he's close to 60. Jordan? You're confusing me, and that doesn't happen often."

"Thirty-five pounds coming down pretty fast from probably six inches in the air, maybe more, and landing on a 60 year old bone. That'd probably break the bone, right?"

Michael and Jesse looked at each other, then stared at Jordan.

"What?" Jordan asked.

"That's some pretty good math and science there, man," said Jesse.

"I don't know. That's just – that's just common sense, isn't it?" Jordan looked confused himself.

"Uhhh, it's common sense for a math and science genius," Michael replied. "See, I knew you weren't stupid. Why the hell are you flunking English again?"

"I hate it. So boring."

"Dude, you need to find classes that aren't boring," Jesse announced loudly. "What about one of those specialized high schools?"

"Huh?"

"You know, like for kids who are great at math but hate history. One of those."

"They have those?"

"Yeah, I think so. They have 'em everywhere else around the country I've lived."

"And I wouldn't have to take English?"

"I don't know about that. I don't know. Maybe they've got a test you can take to get out of it."

Jordan looked excited for the first time since Michael met him. "Woah, that'd be awesome. You really think they have those here?"

"That's your project for this afternoon," Michael interjected. "Go find out."

"No doubt. Seriously, that'd be freaking awesome if I didn't have to take English."

"For the record, you're still flunking for a stupid reason. You need to fix it," Michael instructed.

Jordan gave a sly grin. "You just can't do it, can you? You can't not be in charge."

Jesse's mouth erupted into a huge smile.

Michael shrugged.

Author's Note: Please keep the reviews coming! I love them.