Ch. 20
"I am quite pleased with you all," Ms. Devon said as she passed out the graded test papers to the class. "Everyone here got at least a B on both tests and you should all be proud. Remember, projects are due tomorrow, so make sure you finish them tonight. And yes, read for at least thirty minutes as well."
James nodded in response to his teacher's words as he accepted his math and spelling tests from her with a smile. Atop both papers, a bright red "A+" stood out, along with a note of "Great Work" in Ms. Devon's neat handwriting. Next to him, Tessa grinned and James caught a glimpse of identical grades on her tests as she smiled at him before packing her tests neatly away into a folder.
The class bell rang and Ms. Devon gestured to the door.
"Class dismissed. See you tomorrow, if only for a little while."
"My mom and dad are going to be really happy when I show them my tests," Tessa told James as they pulled on their coats.
"My family will be too. And they can't wait to see my project either."
"I know. I can't wait to show my parents what I made." Tessa paused, then added,
"Katie will probably be mad because she doesn't want to study for her test and Mom and Dad are going to make her do it."
"She won't do anything bad to you, will she?" James asked.
"No, she just yells about how Mom and Dad are unfair, but that's it." Tessa looked over at James. "Do you think Dylan will do something bad to your project?"
"Hmmm." James frowned as the two friends left the classroom. "I don't think Dylan remembers I have a project. I know I told him about it once, but he was too busy yelling about how much he hates school."
"Yeah, well, if I were you, James, I'd still hide my project anyway," Ricky said as he passed by. "Just in case."
"I'll probably keep it on my toy shelf by the truck. Dylan wouldn't be able to get there without me knowing and if he's playing sick, he won't be able to sneak around the house much."
"Better hope not. Hey, where are you going?"
"I have to get Dylan's homework," James answered. "Mrs. Ladybug asked me to. You can on ahead, though."
"I'll come with you," Tessa volunteered. "If he hasn't been doing his homework, you'll probably need someone to help you carry it all."
"No, you'll need a truck to carry it all."
"Maybe. Then my otter toy and her favorite truck can do that and deliver it to Dylan."
"And my toy dog will help!" Tessa added.
The kids laughed as Ricky headed for the front door and James and Tessa made their way to the third grade classroom. The teacher inside, an older woman with short curly hair and a rather long face looked up from her desk as the two approached.
"Hello there. May I help you two?"
"Yes, please," James answered. "I have to pick up homework for Dylan. Mrs. Ladybug said I have to bring it home."
"For Dylan Anderson?" the teacher asked. She sighed at James's nod and stood up from her chair. "My goodness, I think this is the first time I've ever been asked to send missed homework home for that boy."
"He doesn't like school much," James admitted.
"No he does not, but it is a necessity." Dylan's teacher was busy pulling folders from a nearby cabinet. "Although his grandmother seems to think otherwise. At least your family seems responsible. James, isn't it?"
"Yes, miss."
"Well, you're also a good deal more polite than Dylan is too. I'm Miss Hart, by the way. And who might you be, young lady?"
"I'm Tessa Brown, Miss Hart. James and I are in second grade."
"Then I'll probably have you both next year. How nice." Miss Hart smiled and handed James a thick folder stuffed full of papers and packets. "This is all the homework Dylan has yet to complete, but I also have a folder of assignments from the past few days he's refused to do."
"I can help with those," Tessa said.
"Thank you both. Do you know if Dylan will be in school tomorrow, James?"
"I'm not sure." James paused, wondering if he should tell Miss Hart that Dylan was most likely faking being sick, but decided not to. It was probably better to let his family explain that anyway.
"Hmmm. Well, you can let your family know I'll accept tonight's homework for full credit if he turns it in Monday. The rest of it, he can get half-credit for. As for his project, though, that's another story."
"Project?" James blinked. "I didn't know Dylan had a project."
"Well, I'm not too surprised to hear that, but yes, the class has been working on a science project for the past two weeks. Nothing too hard, but it did require some time spent in the library as well as it being part of homework. I know Dylan has only been away from his grandmother for a week, but he hasn't kept up with his work here at school and I know he's done no homework, so it doesn't shock me in the least that he hasn't made an attempt on his project. I doubt he'll get it done over the weekend, but if he does, he'll get a grade lower than he would have had he turned it in tomorrow."
"He can't finish it tonight?' James asked.
"I very much doubt it, especially as he's done no work on it that I've seen," Miss Hart replied. "I've included notes about it for your family to look over, James. If they have any questions, they can come see me tomorrow."
"Thank you, Miss Hart. I'll let them know.
"Most certainly. And it was a pleasure meeting you both. At least I know I'll have two excellent students in my class next year. Have a good rest of your day."
"Wow, this is a lot of work." Tessa shifted the bulging folder in her gloved hands.
"I know. Dylan hasn't done his homework all week and he has a project to do." James shook his head. "And I have a bad feeling he isn't going to do any of it."
"And you're going to be stuck inside with him all weekend." Tessa gave her friend a sympathetic glance. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I'm just glad we had some library time today. I still want to get the new Royal Adventures book, but I want to read the ones I got today too. So long as I have them, I'll be okay."
"And your family won't let Dylan be mean to you again, especially now that they know what he'll do."
"I know." James smiled at Tessa as they reached the school's front doors. "I don't think this weekend's going to be so bad. If Dylan gets mad, I can always just go to my room, after all. I just wonder how he's going to react when he sees all the work I'm bringing him when he's trying to play being sick."
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At the moment, school and homework were the farthest thing from Dylan's mind. In the older boy's mind, the passage of time wasn't marked by the ticking of a clock, but by the schedule of television programs. As a show about motorcycle gangs was ending, Dylan knew it was time for the crime dramas he loved to come on. Setting the television set to the correct channel, Dylan settled back onto the couch and pulled his quilt around him. He reached toward the coffee table and discovered his supply of jam toast had been depleted.
"I need more toast!" Dylan called in a whiny voice, flopping back onto his pillows "My stomach still feels bad."
"For someone whose stomach is feeling badly, you seem to be quite hungry." Miss Spider, who had been prepping dinner in the kitchen, came out to look at Dylan. "You have already had four plates of toast and jam. Perhaps you should wait for a bit before eating any more."
"But I need it," Dylan protested. "Otherwise, I won't get better!"
"Very well. James should be home soon and he will need an afternoon tea as well. But we must take care not to overfeed you, Dylan. We do not want you to get worse."
"I'll only get worse if I don't get more toast and juice."
Dylan watched as Miss Spider headed back to the kitchen to make his snack. The older boy smirked as he watched the opening credits for his favorite crime drama come on. True, toast and jam wasn't nearly as good as cookies and chocolate milk, but the jam was sweet and the toast was pretty good and anyway, it was better than having to go to school. Finally, Dylan could spend the day doing what he actually wanted to do: staying on the couch and watching TV. Hmmm, maybe if he acted like he was really sick, he could stay home from school until he got to go home to Grandma. Then, he wouldn't have to pretend anymore and he could just stay home and eat cookies again like normal.
Yes, Dylan decided, that was exactly what he would do.
The front door opened, letting in a gust of cold air. Dylan scowled at the feeling as Mr. Grasshopper entered, alongside a strange bug Dylan hadn't seen before. She was bundled up in a thick coat and scarf, but her long tail was poking out of her layers of clothing and said tail had a large green bulb attached to it.
"Good afternoon, Dylan. And how are you feeling?"
"Awful." Dylan pulled his blanket around him. "I won't be able to go to school tomorrow."
"Hmm, we shall see," Mr. Grasshopper said with a slight smile that should have worried Dylan, but the older boy was too focused on his show to notice.
"Oh, who is this?" The new bug had finally managed to emerge from her winter layers and was peering at Dylan through a set of opera glasses she held over her eyes, which stood out from her thin face on twin stalks.
"Ms. Glowworm, may I present Dylan Anderson, the young man we are look after whilst his grandmother is in hospital. Dylan, this is Ms. Glowworm, the seventh member of our family. Normally, she serves as the torch in the Statue of Liberty, but we make sure she's home from time to time."
Dylan ignored Mr. Grasshopper's words. What did he care about another weird bug in the house.
"Pardon, dear, what was that?" Glowworm cocked her head, still peering through her glasses at Dylan.
"Never mind Dylan, Glowworm." Miss Spider emerged from the kitchen, setting a fresh plate of toast and another glass of juice on the table. "He is not well. And because you are not well, Dylan, this is the last toast I will be giving you until dinnertime."
"Ewww, I don't wanna eat your dinner. I can't anyway 'cause I'm sick."
"Yes, I know," Miss Spider said with a sigh. "I have some chicken soup for you tonight and you may have more toast then. But I do not want to risk causing you more harm than good." Turning to Mr. Grasshopper and Glowworm, Miss Spider gestured toward the dining room. "Tea is ready for us."
"Thank you, Miss Spider."
"Free is just what?"
Thankfully, Miss Spider was saved from having to repeat herself by the front door opening again. This time, James and Centipede entered, both of them carrying thick folders. Dylan barely spared them a glance, but he did sneer at the large amount of homework James was weighed down with. Hah, that was what James got for going to school! And he probably had to do all that homework tonight! Dylan nibbled at his strawberry jam toast as he turned his attention back to the television, where a crime boss was beating up an underling for "disrespecting him." Huh, maybe all that homework James had to do was because he hadn't done the work Dylan was supposed to do. Hah, Grandma probably told the school James had to do it and now they finally listened. Good!
"Feelin' better, Dylan?" Centipede asked.
"No."
"Too bad. Guess you're just gonna have to sit there on the couch for the rest of day."
Dylan shrugged, but James saw the older boy's sneering look aimed in his direction. Dylan sure looked as though he hadn't moved from the couch at all, so James doubted that spending the rest of the evening in front of the television wasn't exactly a punishment for him.
A light touch on his shoulder caused the little boy to look up and see Miss Spider smiling at him.
"I have hot tea and toast for you and the others. Come and eat, my James."
"Thanks, Miss Spider."
"Whew, I can feel it in the air. We're in for one heck of a storm," Centipede announced to the members of the family gathered around the dining room table.
"Indeed," Mr. Grasshopper agreed. "I'm glad you decided to close the schools early tomorrow, Centipede. I shan't want to think of any child caught in the cold tomorrow."
"Will we get home in enough time?" James asked, swallowing a sip of hot tea.
"Sure will, kid. We really have to start worrying once it gets dark."
"What happens when dogs bark?" Glowworm asked. "Are we getting a dog, James dear?"
"No, Ms. Glowworm," Mr. Grasshopper said with a laugh. "We merely have to mind the dark tomorrow."
"Oh, yes. It'll be cold then." Glowworm sipped her own tea, a serene expression on her face.
"Do you really have to go to work tomorrow, Miss Spider?' James asked.
"Yes, my James, but I promise I will be fine. Centipede and I have hired a car service to take us to and from the club and we are closing at midnight unless the storm comes early."
"Yep, we'll be keepin' watch on everything. And the car service is ready and willin' to take all your employees homes too."
"All the same, do keep an eye on the weather tomorrow," Mr. Grasshopper said. "Between the freezing temperatures and the amount of snow we're sure to get, no one needs to be left out in the cold."
"Of course." Laying a gentle hand over James's, Miss Spider asked,
"Did you have a good day at school my James?"
"Yes. We had our tests today and-"
"I'm still hungry!" Dylan's whining came from the living room, accompanied by the sounds of shattering glass from the television. "And my throat hurts! I want ice cream!"
"His throat hurts and he's shoutin' like that?" Centipede asked, raising his eyebrow at the group.
"Not at the moment, Dylan," Miss Spider called back. "And I think you need to have a rest." Turning back to James, Miss Spider started to ask,
"How did your tests at school go, James? I am sure you-"
"I feel sick! My throat is hurting and I'm all hot! I need ice cream!"
"Dylan, Miss Spider said you had enough to eat for someone who is ill," Mr. Grasshopper said sternly. "Perhaps some hot tea will suffice, Miss Spider?"
"I need ice cream! My throat hurts and my stomach hurts and-"
"Hold a moment, Dylan, I will get you some tea and come and see what the problem is. I am sorry, my James. It seems you will have to tell me about school later." Miss Spider ran a gentle hand over her son's cheek as she left to tend to Dylan.
"I'd better see if I can calm him down too," Centipede said with a sigh. "Maybe I can wear him out and make him sleep the rest of the day." He grinned at James, who returned the smile until he saw Dylan's face poking up at him from over the couch. The little boy felt a weight in his chest as Dylan sneered at him, sticking out his tongue before flopping back down and resuming his whining.
"I wish Grandma was here! She knows how to take care of me! No one else here cares if I'm sick!"
"Oh dear, is he alright?" Glowworm was peering into the living room. "The poor thing; should we call Mrs. Ladybug?"
"I got it," Centipede said as he made his way into the living room. "C'mon, Dylan, what's the problem?"
"I feel siiiiiiicccckkkk! I want ice creeeeaaaammmmm!" Dylan's voice devolved into sobs that were too loud to be anything other than fake. James doubted anyone was fooled by Dylan's antics, but it seemed to him that the older boy was getting what he wanted: attention.
Strange, Dylan hadn't seemed to want attention before.
Yes, but he saw your family was paying attention to you, didn't he?
Well... yes.
So it's not really that he wants the attention, is it?
Then why would Dylan throw a fit and complain that no one was paying attention to him?
Because now, they won't pay attention to you.
Oh...
"James?"
James looked up at both Mr. Grasshopper's voice and the tall insect's gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Why don't we go for a brief walk, my boy? There's still some daylight left and besides, I think you and I should let the others handle Dylan for the moment, yes?"
"Yes, Mr. Grasshopper."
"Good lad. Get your coat and hat and let's be off. A bit of fresh air is exactly what we could use right now."
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Central Park at sunset was lovely no matter the season. When the family had first settled into their lives in the city, they had enjoyed many walks in the summer evening when the trees hung heavy with rich green leaves and the air shimmered with the last of the day's heat, causing the lights in the lampposts to flicker like fireflies. Autumn had turned the leaves brown and occasionally a misty fog would wreathe the dark park in ghostly strands as the sky turned from pale blue to inky black. Though it was easy to think there were monsters hiding out in the autumn evening, running back to the Peach Pit after a day of play in the chilly air hadn't given James an ounce of fear and while his imagination could easily frighten him from time to time, the knew nothing could harm him so long as he had his home and family to run back to.
Winter nights had come on even more quickly, almost in the blink of an eye on some night. But others, there were sunsets like tonight's, when the dark seemed to be held at bay by some force that wanted those who were content to stay outside to appreciate the majesty of a winter evening. As James and Mr. Grasshopper made their way through the park, the winter sky was had not yet been claimed by night. Rather, the sun- a vibrant red and orange ball- peeped out from between clouds of pink and gold. As such, the powdery snow that covered the grass seemed to sparkle like shards of crystal and the hues from the sky made the snowdrifts look like mounds of cotton candy.
Mr. Grasshopper guided James off the cobblestone path and through the trees. Above them a few squirrels bobbed about on the branches, busying themselves with storing any food they could find in their dens. Most of the snow on the trees' bare branches had long fallen to the ground, but some of the wood still boasted a light dusting of ice. Of course, said branches would have more than a dusting of snow once the winter storm came howling into the park, but for now, the trees were as still and serene as the photograph on a Christmas postcard.
"Ahh, a perfect sunset view."
Coming out of the trees, James and Mr. Grasshopper found themselves on a small hill overlooking a small picnic area and pond. Of course, with it being winter, the picnic wooden benches had been packed into storage there were no families sprawled out on colorful blankets and enjoying a packed lunch. However, the small frozen pond had a few couples ice skating atop it and quite a few others were strolling about either watching the skaters or deep in conversation. The glorious sunset colors had not yet faded; if anything, they were even more vibrant as though trying to hold onto one last burst of color before they were swallowed up by the dark of night.
"It's just as bright as a sunset over the sea," James noted. The previous feeling of heaviness in his chest seemed to lighten as the little boy gazed at the beautiful sky. For a moment, James could hear the sound of waves against sand and taste the salt in the chilly breeze that brushed over his face.
"Indeed it is," Mr. Grasshopper agreed. Once more, he laid a hand on James's shoulder, pulling his son to him as they continued to view the scene before them. "And if I'm right, you needed a bit of brightness following Dylan's most recent outburst."
"Yes."
Mr. Grasshopper nodded, his grip on James tightening in an affectionate hug. "I know this past week hasn't been easy on you, James. On all of us, really, but you most of all. I know I speak for the whole family when I tell you how proud we are of you for handling the situation the way you have."
James smiled and nodded, but remained silent.
"Something else is bothering you, isn't it?"
James looked up to see Mr. Grasshopper's knowing smile. "Does this have to do with our young houseguest playing sick today?" the tall insect asked.
"You knew he was faking?"
"Oh goodness yes," Mr. Grasshopper said with a laugh. "I doubt there's a single person in the city who would honestly believe that boy was ill. Well, except his grandmother, I suppose, but I have a sneaking suspicion Mrs. Anderson would only go along with such a farce out of wanting to please her grandson than out of actual belief."
"But, if you knew he wasn't sick, why did you let him stay home?" James asked.
"Oh believe me James, Dylan is going to wish he hadn't stayed home. In fact, if I'm right, he may well expose himself as quite the young maligner."
"Really?"
"We shall see. But we will not have to worry about him much longer."
"Why not? Isn't Dylan going to be staying with us longer because of his grandmother?"
"That was our original plan, yes. But," Mr. Grasshopper said with a sigh, "after what Dylan said to you, James, we cannot allow him to stay with us any longer. I for one will not risk him treating you so cruelly again, so while he will have to remain with us through the weekend, Ms. Gould is going to have to find him other living arrangements starting Monday."
"I'm sorry."
"What? James, whatever are you sorry for, my boy?"
"Well, if I hadn't talked to Dylan, he wouldn't have gotten mad and then he wouldn't have to-"
"James." Mr. Grasshopper knelt down and pulled the little boy to him, holding him close. "This is in no way your fault, my dear, dear boy. The fact of the matter is that you are our son and we must care for you first and foremost. Do we want to help Dylan? Yes, of course we do. But we cannot allow our desire to help one child harm another and he has harmed you. As such, we cannot allow Dylan to remain with us, but I don't want you blaming yourself because, believe me, you are not to blame. Do you understand, James?"
"I... I do. I just..."
"I know." Mr. Grasshopper pulled back to meet James's eyes. "You were forced to shoulder blame for situations that were not your fault for some time and I imagine that has left you with lingering doubts, hasn't it?"
"Yes."
"Well then, let me reassure you that you have nothing to feel guilty for, my boy. I know we all wanted to help Dylan in his time of need- and we still will, one way or another- but we just can't have him remain under our roof if there's a chance he's going to lash out at you again. After what Spiker and Sponge put you through, we're not going to allow anyone of any age treat you in such a manner if we can help it."
"But then, what will happen to Dylan?"
"Ahh, well." Mr. Grasshopper stood back up, wrapping an arm around James once more as they turned to watch the last of skaters leave the pond. "Because his grandmother will have to undergo surgery and a lengthy recovery period, he'll likely be sent to another foster family in the city. If that doesn't work, he'll have to go to a boarding school or even a home for boys, even if only temporarily."
"It won't be a bad place, will it?"
"Not if we have anything to do with it. As I said, we still want to help Dylan. In this case, helping him may just mean making sure he is sent somewhere that can deal with his tantrums and demands, but will still provide him a good home and proper guidance as he grows."
"What about his grandmother?"
Mr. Grasshopper paused, frowning a bit as he considered how to answer James's question. "It is unlikely that Dylan will be allowed to live with her again, dear boy. She hasn't proven herself to be a very good guardian to a child."
James fell silent, watching alongside his guardian as the skaters pulled on their boots and slung their skates over their shoulders before making their way through the snow and onto the paths that led them out of Central Park. The sun was lower in the sky now and the clouds were losing their pink and gold hues and turning to grey.
"Mr. Grasshopper?"
"Yes?"
"Is it possible for grownups to hurt kids without actually hurting them?"
"In what way, James?"
"Well, I know grownups can be mean like Spiker and Sponge were to me. But Dylan's grandmother was nice to him and gave him whatever he wanted. But... I don't think Dylan's very happy."
"No, I don't think so either." Mr. Grasshopper chuckled a bit. "A very astute observation, my boy. And as it happens, you're quite right. Dylan's grandmother has done that boy more of a disservice than anything. Constantly giving into his every whim has indeed harmed Dylan just as Spiker and Sponge once harmed you."
"Even if she didn't yell at him or not give him food or beat him?"
"In a way. What Spiker and Sponge did you was wrong, there's no denying that. Why they chose to do so, I'll never understand, no matter what they might say. But with Amelia Anderson, I can at least follow her reasoning as to why she spoiled Dylan the way she did."
"Why?"
"She was afraid of him leaving her. Dylan's mother clashed with quite a bit growing up and she ended up running away. When Dylan was sent to live with his grandmother, she decided she would do everything possible to not repeat that mistake so that Dylan wouldn't run away as well. But your noting Dylan isn't happy is quite correct, James. He's content with a life of television and sweets, but I don't think I've seen a genuine smile on that boy's face the entire time he's been with us. Have you?"
"No. And..."
"And what, James?"
"He doesn't really talk about missing his grandmother because he misses her. He just likes that she gives him whatever he wants."
"Something else I- and indeed all of us- have noticed." Mr. Grasshopper squeezed James a little more tightly. "That struck quite a chord with you, didn't it?"
James nodded. "I remember my mum and dad wanted me to be happy, but I didn't get everything I wanted and I was still happy with them. And I'm happy with you and the others too."
"And that makes me very happy, James. Knowing you are happy and that we have made you that way is worth more to me than anything else in this world. And I'm certain your parents felt the same way."
"I hope so."
"They had you, James. Speaking from experience, I'd say that made them the happiest people in the world."
James smiled at his guardian's words. "Do you think having Dylan made Mrs. Anderson just as happy?"
"I believe so. She does care very much for him."
"Do you think she knows she's not making Dylan happy?"
"Hmmm." Mr. Grasshopper tapped his chin in thought. "From what Mrs. Ladybug told us, it's possible she does know she's doing Dylan more harm than good by not teaching him to behave properly, James. Unfortunately, she simply may not be able to admit that she failed again as a parent. She was too strict with her daughter, but refused to see it at the time. Now, she's too lenient with her grandson and admitting to that would mean she could run the risk of losing Dylan just as she did his mother. Unfortunately, that fear is going to come to pass whether she admits to it or not."
"I feel badly for them."
"As do I, dear James. But there's nothing we can do now. We tried, but the situation was more than could handle. There's no shame in admitting that; that's just life sometimes."
"Like the tides."
"Oh?"
James smiled a bit as he watched the last of the pink sky submit to dusky grey. "My dad used to say that. Sometimes, the high tides would bring you something and sometimes they'd bring you nothing. You had to just learn to live with what the sea gave you and do your best otherwise."
"Is that so?" Mr. Grasshopper patted James's shoulder. "Well, your father was a very wise man indeed. We simply have to ride out this particular tidal storm and wait for the waters to retreat. And we will."
"I know."
"Good. Well, it's getting dark and you must be quite chilled by now."
"A little," James admitted.
"Then let's get you home. Mrs. Ladybug should be back by now and she'll have my head if I let you catch a cold."
"Will she and Earthworm be home?"
"Yes, they should be."
"Then I can show everyone my project. It's just about done; I only need to finish a few more things, but it won't take me long."
"Then let's hurry. I've been waiting all week to see this creation of yours and I've no doubt it's to exceed all of my expectations."