Surprise chapter! Merry Christmas!

The next couple of weeks flew by. They went to cities and towns of all sizes, with all kinds of audiences. James loved the concerts so much that it was actually rare that he didn't want to go, but he did stay behind in the hotel room a few times. During those stretches of being alone, he worked on his form and technique. There was a lot to be said about the importance of technique in boxing, and James was intent on mastering technique as soon as possible.

Oliver was utterly delighted by James and his appetite for learning. He was full of praise for the boy, and he encouraged him to keep pushing. But even Oliver's passion for James to learn was overshadowed by Mr. Grasshopper's desire for James to be able to defend himself. His encouragement was fervent, his praise was effusive, and his pride was fierce as James steadily improved.

After a concert in one of the bigger cities one night, the troupe once again went out together to eat. They chose Italian, so they found a well-recommended restaurant and settled in and ordered. As Oliver sipped on a glass of wine, he studied James.

"How are you feeling about your tree?" he finally asked.

Mr. Grasshopper was interested in the answer as he nibbled on bread dipped in oil. James tore a chunk off his own piece of bread and thoughtfully dipped it into the oil. He swirled it around.

"I'm starting to feel better about him, actually," the boy finally admitted. "But only a little bit. He still scares me." He ate the bread and looked around at all the grownups. "Will I ever not be afraid of him?"

That was a question that made Mr. Grasshopper uneasy. He subconsciously switched the bread and his glass of water into his lower hands then cleaned his antennae, gazing around and waiting for an answer. The humans looked sympathetic.

"It takes time," Bastian finally said. "It did for me, at least."

"Me, too," Veronica said quietly.

Heather and Oliver nodded. Heather leaned forward. "Samantha kept after me until I couldn't take it anymore. One day when she pushed me, I finally spun around, slapped her across the face and gave her a dressing down. She never messed with me again. But I got quite the lecture when I got home. No fighting. No matter what. But I'd made my point."

Bastian smiled wryly, picking up a piece of bread and ripping it in half. "My old man just about exploded when he found out I'd beat up Rodney."

"What did he do?" James asked worriedly.

"He took me out and gave me a cigar," Bastian said. When he saw their bemused expressions, he grinned. "Hey, I didn't say he was mad. I just said he exploded. Just about laughed himself purple. He was so proud of me."

"My dad wasn't so thrilled," Oliver said grimly. "When I finally got fed up with Ray, I gave him a black eye. My dad whupped me good. But Ray was a lot more careful around me after that. We turned out to be decent friends after everything settled. We still go out for a drink every once in a while."

Heather sighed. "I wish I had a happy ending like that. I graduated and left town and started studying music. Last time I went back to see my parents, I saw her in the park with her kids. She just kind of waved and looked away. When I saw her that day, I realized she no longer scared me. But it took nearly ten years of being away for me to reach that point."

"Ten years is a long time," James said sadly. "I hope it doesn't end up being that long for me."

Bastian frowned with concern. "James? There is something you should know."

"Yes?" James asked.

"You might get hurt if you choose to fight him. Be aware that is very likely."

James nodded solemnly. "I can take a hit," he said.

With that sobering reminder of the boy's aunts, their dinner arrived, and they moved on to lighter subjects. Afterward, they headed back to the hotel. After James did his usual twenty-minute lesson with Oliver, the oboe player headed for the room he was sharing with Bastian, leaving Mr. Grasshopper alone with James. The two packed their bags so they could head out the next morning as early as possible. They had a long drive to look forward to. Mr. Grasshopper was very quiet as they packed, and every so often, James glanced at him.

He was worried for his guardian. Ever since the night they'd talked about Gary, things had been a little odd. A few nights over the past couple weeks, James had woken up to hear that same wet/dry rasping noise coming from the bathroom and found that Mr. Grasshopper not in bed. Each time, James would lie awake, worried about him. And every time, Mr. Grasshopper would eventually come out and crawl back into bed, trembling like a leaf in a windstorm. James would simply turn over and hug him until he stopped shaking, and they would go back to sleep. James honestly didn't know how to ask what was wrong. He thought it might be an insect thing, but was it inappropriate to ask him what was going on?

Mr. Grasshopper finally broke the silence. "He really could hurt you, you know," he said quietly.

"What?" James asked, startled. He turned to see Mr. Grasshopper gazing at him with genuine concern. His antennae drooped a little and he looked a bit scared.

"Thomas. He could hurt you badly if you're not careful, James."

"Mr. Grasshopper," James said gently. "Look at my aunts and what they did to me. They'd hit me almost every day. I assure you that I can take a hit."

Mr. Grasshopper solemnly took James's hands in his top one then rested his fingers on the cast. His bottom right hand came up to gingerly cradle his own side, the fingers resting lightly on his shirt.

"My dear boy," Mr. Grasshopper said intently. "You can only take a hit if it's not hard enough to break something. And he has already broken something of yours."

James was astounded by the vulnerability in Mr. Grasshopper's expression, and he hesitated. "May I ask—" he began.

"Stop," Mr. Grasshopper commanded. James stopped talking at once. Mr. Grasshopper softened. "You needn't start off by asking that question, James," he said. "Just begin with what you want to ask. If I don't want to answer the question, I'll tell you so. But feel free to ask me anything you like. Yes?"

James relaxed and smiled. "Of course." He latched his suitcase then walked over to the bed and jumped on it. "Well then, did that happen to you?"

"Did what happen to me?" Mr. Grasshopper asked, closing his own suitcase.

"Did Gary hit you hard enough to break something?"

Mr. Grasshopper went perfectly still, every joint locking as his instincts screamed that he was in danger. He slowly turned to look at James, then he reached up and cleaned his antennae. For a moment, James could see his guardian's animal instincts, as plain as day. The boy became very aware that Mr. Grasshopper was, in fact, a grasshopper, something not human that had been granted human qualities by the will of God. And then his guardian was there again, and he nodded once, looking frightened.

James was about to ask if he could ask another question but stopped himself. Then he licked his lips and tried again.

"How… How is that possible, Mr. Grasshopper?" he asked. "You have no bones to break."

Mr. Grasshopper swallowed very hard, and he peered intently at James. "Do you really want to know?" he asked, his voice so very quiet.

James nodded, so Mr. Grasshopper reached up to unbutton his jacket. He tossed it aside then stopped and swallowed hard again. He hesitated as he reached for the shirt buttons.

"You needn't do that," James said, thinking his guardian was concerned about propriety. "You can just tell me."

Mr. Grasshopper shook his head and his four hands quickly unbuttoned the shirt and tugged it out of his pants. He tossed it aside as he sat down beside James and took his hand in his bottom two. He guided James's hand forward to a spot on his thorax, stopping just short of touching it.

"James," he said hoarsely. "Be gentle. Please."

He released James's hands then looked away. James touched the spot that Mr. Grasshopper led him to, and he was immediately surprised. It wasn't hard like the exoskeleton that James knew. His face went blank as he gingerly felt around and leaned close, peering intently at the spot. There seemed to be a leathery growth that spanned a couple inches wide and five inches long on Mr. Grasshopper's thorax. It was completely surrounded by normal exoskeleton. The boy looked up at his guardian, confused.

Mr. Grasshopper glanced at him briefly then looked away, a fine tremor noticeable only because James was sitting so close. He glanced over a second time and swallowed hard then tried to speak. He coughed and tried again.

"I was kicked so hard that it broke through my exoskeleton," Mr. Grasshopper said. "So the answer to your question is yes. I was hit so hard that something broke."

A shiver of horror washed through James, who quickly withdrew his hand, suddenly afraid to touch such a vulnerable area. "How?" He exclaimed. "How are you here? My teacher told us that an insect can't live once it's exoskeleton is broken!"

"I am lucky," Mr. Grasshopper admitted. "I could have very easily have gotten sick or simply been eaten."

"But how?" James persisted. "How are you alive? How did it heal?"

"The crocodile tongues, I suppose," Mr. Grasshopper said. "I recall feeling the ground shake and sensing the vibrations of a large thing. I suppose that was you falling. And then I saw this funny little green thing, and it looked like a tasty little morsel, so I ate it." He paused and looked at James. "I suppose I blinked for the first time, just then, because the next thing I knew, there was a large peach above me and the sound of many people. I was afraid, so I turned to try and flee and there was this tunnel that smelled heavenly. I went up in it and found a delightful room that suited me. I was the first one there."

"But how did it heal?" James asked.

"I don't know," Mr. Grasshopper said thoughtfully. "It was during the very long blink, I think. When I opened my eyes, for I found for the first time they were not simply open all the time, I was fully clothed, and the pain I'd been in was gone, and where the pain had been was this… skin." He shrugged. "It was the hand of God, I suppose."

James smiled. "Mr. Grasshopper, how many times do I have to tell you that it was magic?"

Mr. Grasshopper snorted and poked his nose. "Who's behind the magic then?" he challenged.

James shook his head then looked down and gently touched the skin. "I understand."

Mr. Grasshopper went rigidly still again for a few moments before he breathed out shakily and trembled. "James?"

James could hear the distress in Mr. Grasshopper's voice, so he removed his hand then hugged him tightly. Mr. Grasshopper relaxed as all the fear drained away, replaced by a warm glow of safety and security. It was one of the new sensations he'd received only after being transformed, and it was the deepest the feeling had ever been.

"I'm sorry that Gary did that to you," James said, pulling back and peering kindly at his guardian.

Mr. Grasshopper basked in the warm feelings and smiled back at James. "I'm glad to have told you," he said. "It feels nice to finally confide this to somebody. And I'm glad it's you."

"Haven't you told the others?" James asked, surprised.

"No," Mr. Grasshopper replied.

"Why not?"

Mr. Grasshopper reached over for his night shirt and tugged it over his head. "None of the others were Lessers before the tongues," he said.

James was puzzled. "So?"

"It's not good to be a Lesser, James," Mr. Grasshopper replied. "I'd rather not divulge that to them."

"But what makes you a Lesser?" James asked.

Mr. Grasshopper cleaned his antennae as he folded his suit. "I suppose part of it was that I was smaller than average, and thus I was weak. There just seemed to be something about me, perhaps a scent, that made other bugs target me. Gary was more aggressive. It was a struggle for survival that I nearly lost."

James smiled sadly. "That's how I feel about my time with my aunts."

Mr. Grasshopper paused and turned. "What did they do to you, James? What made you so afraid that you thought you wouldn't survive?" he asked softly.

James's smile faded and he looked away, kicking his feet. "If you don't mind, Mr. Grasshopper, I'd rather not talk about it."

"Very well," Mr. Grasshopper said. "Get ready for bed then. We must be up very early."

James hopped to his feet and beamed at Mr. Grasshopper. "Thank you," he said. "For everything," he added.

That night, James awoke yet again to the strange rasping noise. James didn't bother feeling for Mr. Grasshopper, but he did wait. He counted to four hundred before Mr. Grasshopper turned the light off then opened the door and slipped back into the bed. He was trembling again, and James turned to embrace him. Mr. Grasshopper hugged him back, and he stopped trembling very quickly. Then he spoke for the first time since the first night it had happened.

"I'll be okay, James. Go back to sleep."

James nodded and turned over to go to sleep. "Sleep well," he murmured.

"I will."

And they both fell asleep again.