Ch. 8
The sun was peeking through the grey clouds when James and his friends stepped out of the school. While the weak light promised a bit of extra outdoor playtime before dinner, the chill in the air was enough to convince most of the children filing out of the school that perhaps sitting inside and doing homework wasn't the worst way to spend the afternoon. That was fine by James, anyway, given that he knew he'd have a bit of extra work to do tonight.
"Hey, kid, over here!"
James saw Centipede waving at him near the front gate. Calling a hasty goodbye to his friends, the little boy darted over to his guardian and was immediately swept up in a many-armed hug.
"Have a good day?"
"Yes!"
"Good. Can't stay too long, though; I gotta get back to the office for a meetin', so we gotta- wait, where's Dylan?"
James looked around as Centipede released him, both of them watching the crowds of children and parents either mingling on the playground or walking out of the gates. Peering through the assembled groups, James spotted a boy wearing a familiar coat.
"I see him. He's coming out the doors now."
"Yeah, me too." Centipede waved at the older boy. "Over here, Dylan!"
Dylan kept his head down as he trudged his way over to James and Centipede. "Can we go now?" he whined as soon as he reached them. "I'm tired and it's cold."
"No problem. I was just tellin' Jimmy we gotta get home 'cause I can't stay long. C'mon, let's go."
"Carry my backpack!"
"Nah, I don't think so."
"Do it!"
James winced at Dylan's tone, but Centipede looked more amused than annoyed.
"Dylan, you keep yellin' like that and I'll be carryin' you."
"Fine!" Dylan stamped his foot, crossed his arms and pouted. Without another word, Centipede grabbed Dylan by the back of his coat and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Dylan gave another whine, but didn't protest and let his backpack slip from his fingers. Centipede raised his eyebrow, a flicker of annoyance cutting through his amusement.
"I can carry that."
"Nah, Jimmy-boy." Centipede sighed and picked up the dropped bookbag. "I got it. Let's just get you two home."
James nodded, but was glad when Centipede grinned down at him and took one of the little boy's hand in one of his own. The two started the walk home, Dylan still dangling over Centipede's shoulder.
"I'm hungry," the older boy whined.
"Mrs. Ladybug'll have somethin' for both of you at home."
"I want cookies."
"Don't count on it."
"I want cookies!" Dylan tried kicking his chubby legs, but Centipede held him tightly enough so the most the older boy could do was barely flail his chubby limbs in midair. James averted his eyes, looking ahead as Dylan continued to whine.
"So, kiddo, what'd you do in school today?" Centipede ignored Dylan's protests, looking down to gave James a grin. The little boy felt himself perk up a bit as he answered,
"Ms. Devon gave us a special history project."
"Yeah? What kind of project?"
"It's a surprise. Tessa and I are working together, but it won't be ready until Friday. I'll show you then."
"Awww, can't even give me a hint?"
"Nope. Sorry." James couldn't help giggling a bit.
"Ah, well, surprises are great. Can't wait to see what you come up with, kid. And speaking of surprise, I got one for you. Both of you, actually."
"What is it?"
"You wanna hear this too, Dylan?"
"Nooooooo." Dylan had gone limp in Centipede's grip and he had buried his face against the large bug's shoulder.
"Oh really? I think you're gonna like it."
"No I won't," Dylan protested in a muffled voice.
"Well, ok, I guess you don't wanna hear that you only have to go to school until 12:30 on Friday."
"What?" Dylan looked up a bit.
"We're leaving school early on Friday?" James asked. "Why?"
"Remember how I said it's gonna get real cold this weekend?"
"Yes."
"It's already cold," Dylan protested.
"I know. But it's gonna get worse, especially on Friday afternoon when the sun goes down. People could be in danger if they stay out too long that day, so I want to make sure no kids are gonna get stuck at school. Every school in the city is gettin' out early, so how do ya like that?"
"Wow."
"I don't wanna go to school at all."
"Can't help ya there, Dylan; there's only so much I can do. But you'll have an early day on Friday."
"Nooooooooo."
"No? You wanna stay in school?"
"Noooooooo!" Dylan's high-pitched whine was audible even over the car horns and chatter of crowds.
"Yeah, that's what I thought. What about you, Jimmy boy? Think gettin' out from school early sounds good?"
"Will everyone be okay?"
"I hope so. I know Miss Spider's gonna keep her club open that night 'cause she's got reservations and everything booked, but we'll have cars to take us to and from the place. And I can't exactly stop people from goin' out, after all, but I can make sure the places they're stayin' are safe and warm."
James considered this. "But you'll both be home after?"
"Yep. And we're gonna have to hunker down at home on Saturday 'cause it's gonna storm pretty bad that day. But we're all takin' the day off, so we'll be good."
"I hope I have time to get a new book from the library on Friday."
"Atta boy. We'll have fun."
"I wanna watch TV!"
"Yeah, I figured, Dylan. I'm sure we can work something out for ya."
Dylan fell silent, but James had a feeling the older boy wasn't happy. Still, James had to admit that the idea of spending a cold Saturday at home was sounding rather nice. It would be cold and dark outside, snow swirling around the house and wind rattling the windows, but James would be warm and snug inside. There'd be a fire in the fireplace and Mrs. Ladybug would make him hot cocoa and he could read or draw or do a puzzle, whatever he wanted. And his family would be there too: Mr. Grasshopper reading in his armchair, Mrs. Ladybug knitting in her rocking chair, Centipede relaxing on one side of the couch, Miss Spider curled up on the other end, Earthworm by the fire and Glowworm would be home from the Statue of Liberty too. They'd all sit there together, not saying much, but enjoying the feeling of being together and and everything would be just-
"Are we there yet?"
The vision faded from James's mind as he and Centipede made their way through the front gates of Central Park.
"Almost. How 'bout walkin' the rest of the way?"
"No!"
"Suit yourself. And here I thought you were older than Jimmy is."
"I ammmmmm!"
"Well, you're not actin' like it."
Dylan ignored Centipede, but he did raise his head when the light from the Peach Pit House spilled over the approaching trio.
"Finally! I wanna go in!"
"Good to hear." Centipede set Dylan back down and held out his backpack for him to take, but the older boy scampered up to the front door without a backwards glance. Throwing open the wooden door, Dylan kicked off his shoes and dumped his winter garb on the floor. He launched himself onto the couch and had picked up the remote by the time Centipede and James stepped through the still-open door.
"What was- Dylan!" Mrs. Ladybug emerged from the kitchen, wiping her four hands on the apron tied across her waist. "Pick up your things!"
"I don't wanna! My show's comin' on!" Dylan flicked on the television, making sure to turn up the volume. James winced at the sound of loud voices echoing from the living room as he slipped off his coat and hung it up.
"Dylan, could you turn that down please?"
The older boy ignored Mrs. Ladybug's request as he stared at the screen in front of him.
"Oh boy, looks like we're in for a fun afternoon." Centipede's voice was just audible over the television.
"I'll handle it," Mrs. Ladybug assured him, gently removing James's hat and scarf before pulling her son to her. "How are you, dearie? Did you have a good day?"
"I'm fine. And yes, I did."
"Got a special project to do, dont'cha, buddy?"
"Oh? What kind of project?"
"It's a surprise," James explained. "Ms. Devon said we'll work on it in class, but we should work on it at home too, so I need to get started. I'm going to keep it under my bed. Promise you won't look? I really want to surprise you."
"Oh, James dear, of course!" Mrs. Ladybug gave him an extra squeeze. "I can't wait to see what you have planned. But how about a bit of tea before you get started?"
"Yes please!"
"Okay. Centipede?"
"Wish I could, but I got a meeting. Be back for dinner, though. You gonna be okay?" Centipede nodded toward the living room.
"We'll be fine," Mrs. Ladybug assured him, already setting Dylan's coat and hat on the coat rack. "Let me know if you're going to be running late."
"Will do. See ya, Jimmy-boy." Centipede ruffled James's hair before leaving the house. James slipped his own shoes off and left them by the front door before following Mrs. Ladybug through the living room and into the kitchen. Dylan didn't even look up as the two passed him by, too engrossed in the world of machine-gun toting gangsters prowling through gritty city streets.
"Sit down, love. I'll get you something warm to drink and I have Graham Crackers for you."
"Thank you." James took a seat at the table as Mrs. Ladybug set a small mug and a plate of cinnamon-dusted biscuits in front of him. The kindly insect had also poured herself a cup of tea and the two shared the plate of sugared crackers as Dylan's show continued to rage on in the other room. James finished his hot tea as another round of gunfire ripped through the television's speakers, making him start a bit.
"Don't worry, dear, I'll be having a word with Dylan and his grandmother about what programs he's been watching. And I do hope Dylan has enjoyed this show, because it is likely the last one he'll be watching for some time."
"Is he not going to be allowed to watch TV anymore?"
"After his behavior this morning, I think Dylan has quite lost the privilege for the rest of the school week. If he turns over a new leaf and starts being more polite, he may watch television again starting Saturday. But I know Mr. Grasshopper wants to have a conversation with him once he gets home and I'll be helping with that. In the meantime, I take it you're going to start your homework right away, James?"
"Yes. I have some math problems and a new spelling list to go over. Plus I want to start my project."
"Good boy. But let me know if you need anything."
"I will." James carried his empty mug over to the sink before heading upstairs. He paused to grab his backpack and looked back at Dylan seated on the couch. Mrs. Ladybug caught his eye gave him an encouraging nod. James quickly scaled the stairs and headed for his room. Setting his backpack on his deck chair, James flicked on his lamp and began pulling out the school books and supplies he needed. So intent was the little boy on his work that barely noticed the commotion downstairs.
Barely.