The Merry, Merry Month of May: Part I
The thirteenth day of any month is supposed to be unlucky, particularly when it also happens to fall on a Friday, but it did not seem that way in May of 2016. It marked the end of semester at Columbia, and so for Nick and Jeff at least, there was a sigh of relief as they finished a second year at college. They would no longer have to cross the city on the subway every morning, and that was a blessed relief for a start. The weather had been warming up for a while, and the trains seemed to get more and more crowded, cramped and sweaty every day. The last two weeks had been non-stop for both of them; a combination of work, study and examinations, both written and practical. They had seen very little of each other - in fact, they had often only seen the other fast asleep in bed for a whole day, and it was the same with Mike. Caleb was still being fed - probably overfed as he was a very good manipulator. A series of notes had replaced conversation as the key means of communication between the three of them.
The two young men were both reasonably confident of success in their respective examinations; Nick already knew that he had aced his practical mock case. Jeff was still waiting, however, to find out his grading for The Judging Angel, which he had only submitted in the last hour possible on his deadline day. It had been a challenge to move it from the small room in which it had been created to the hall in which it would be assessed; it was only due to the assistance of a disparate group of custodians, who all knew Jeff from his regular nocturnal sessions, that he had managed to get it there at all. He would ever be grateful to them for volunteering. As class ended that Friday, the two young husbands did not head straight home, nor did they head for a bar like many of their contemporaries. They instead headed downtown in the direction of Julliard, as they had made a promise which they now had to fulfil. As they headed in the direction of the subway, Nick noticed a headline on the board of a newspaper stand which made him pause to pick up a copy of the Times. They had all been so caught up in their work in New York that none of them had even realised what had been taking place that week in Boston…
It wasn't that surprising that they were unaware, as Michelle had only told the partners that she was going to visit her parents, and Wes had not enlightened any of them to what was happening either. They had both known at the start of April that the trials of the three members of Wes' family were to take place starting in the first weeks of May, starting with the trial of his grandfather, Randall Montgomery Senior. The older man had entered a guilty plea, and thus his trial had been very short. There had been no need for witness after witness to produce evidence on the stand, just the prosecutor giving all of the necessary information to the judge, under the watchful eye of the defence lawyer. The judge had not taken long either to decide on an appropriate sentence for the once prominent business mogul, a man now discredited and reviled. He would spend a few years in prison, and was banned from ever being a director of a financial services organisation ever again. For his part, Randall Montgomery made a profuse and heartfelt apology to all those that had been caught up in the fraud, and announced that he had also instigated divorce proceedings against his second wife, whose influence had been at least partially responsible for the situation developing. He also went on to publicly condemn the actions of his eldest son and more or less disowned him, saying that his actions had been reprehensible, unlike those of his two others sons, Albert and Wes.
The latter had of course been there to witness events in person. He had felt no anger towards the man in the dock, having forgiven him for being cold and distant towards him, given what he now knew. He had cried openly when the man he now knew to be his grandfather had stood up and told the world how good and special he was. That trial had ended on the 5th of May; that of his mother began on the 9th. Wes had spent his weekend catching up with those that he knew in Boston. Mitch and Gabriel had been only too pleased to have him around, with the latter insisting that Mitch tell him exactly what he was wearing to satisfy his curiosity. All the time, Gabriel was hoping and praying that the day that he would be able to see Wes for himself would come sooner rather than later.
The trial of Wes' mother had been very different from that of his grandfather. She had refused to admit any part in the actions that she was accused of, which was not a sensible plan, given that there was evidence, in her own handwriting, of everything that she had done in connection with the restaurant fire for starters. She continued to protest her innocence at all times, which only served to incite hatred from the jury when they had clear evidence of her guilt in front of them. Whilst her husband had eulogised Wes and her younger stepson, she attacked them both with such bile and venom that had even the smallest amount of sympathy existed for her beforehand, it had quickly evaporated. Wes had managed to remain coolheaded throughout the entire trial, resisting hard the temptation to send troublesome draughts in her direction from his wings every time she was particularly vile. The final nail in her coffin had been on the Thursday, when she finally noticed Michelle sitting up in the public gallery. She began to scream up at her in such shocking tone and word that the judge had been compelled to add additional charges to her rap sheet. It had therefore come as no surprise to anyone but the lady herself that she was found guilty by the jury that afternoon, in less than five minutes, on all the charges that had been laid against her. The judge had also been swift to pass sentence, and sent her down for a minimum of 20 years, which was the sum total of all the sentences for the crimes she had committed, as they were to be served consecutively.
It was after that sentence had been handed out that she began the rant which had made her headline news in both Boston and New York. It was that which had earned her the headline in the New York Times that had attracted Nick's eye. Her outburst was printed verbatim, it having been recorded carefully by every journalist present in the courtroom. Nick scanned it once as he walked, then stopped Jeff and pulled him over to the side of the sidewalk so that he could read it out to him…
"After the honourable Judge Gordon had delivered what most believe was a highly appropriate sentence, he asked the defendant if she had anything that she wished to say. He did so not expecting to hear what he and the rest of those assembled in the court did. With fire blazing in her eyes, Mrs Montgomery proceeded to inform the judge that he and the rest of the legal system in the state of Massachusetts had no idea what true justice was. She continued 'All that I ever did was try to love and protect those two boys that had lost their mother at such an early age. Randy was the troubled one, and he needed all the love and comfort that I could give…'"
"Well, she certainly gave him that!" exclaimed Jeff, who then went quiet again after a look from Nick, who continued to read.
"'All I am guilty of is loving them and trying to protect them as their mother would have done had she lived. If the owner of that restaurant had just served Randy, which is his job after all, then he would never have done what he is accused of…' - Oh, well done! She has just more or less said that he did do it before his trial. - 'I only made the decisions that lead to the financial irregularities at the Montgomery business because I was trying to give those boys, my stepsons, all that they demanded from life. I have subsequently been repaid by being stabbed in the back; I have been accused of the unthinkable by Randy, and thrown to the sharks by the evil, calculating Albert, who should be here now, on trial, for the crimes he has committed.' I notice she doesn't state what those crimes are… 'I wish now that I had left that household and that family far behind in the aftermath of my patient's death, as then my life would not have been destroyed by my husband, who has deserted me in my hour of need in favour of his two ungrateful children. He, Randy and Albert have used and abused me, and now have dumped me here to pay the price for their own failings and misfortune…'"
Nick's voice trailed off as he read the next line. His heart ached for his friend and mentor, who he knew would have been there, at the back of that courtroom, and would have witnessed all of this firsthand. "It's about Wes, isn't it Nicky? What she says next… Words cannot hurt him, because all that she says about him will be a wicked, nasty lie. We know the truth because we know him! I want you to go ahead and read out her lies so that I can scoff at them."
Nick smiled, and carried on. "Ok, if you are sure, Jeffie, then here goes… 'But the worst thing that happened to me in that whole period of time was the birth of my own son. From the moment that he was born, that boy looked at me with disdain. He had his father's preppy outlook and attitude, and saw me as an object below his contempt. Wesley was nothing but a source of friction, and I wish now that I had had him aborted at the time. If he was still alive, then he and Albert would no doubt be in cahoots; he would be revelling in all of this, and would see it as poetic justice for all of the perceived slights he felt he had been shown during his life. He was nothing but a snob - and whilst the world eulogised him when he was killed, I was glad to see the back of him. Dalton Academy is welcome to his ashes. That school and the friends he made there are just as much of a waste of space as he was…'" Nick stopped reading as he heard a sniff, and instinctively he wrapped his arms round his husband as he burst into tears. As he blinked away the moisture in his own eyes, he flung the newspaper in the direction of the nearest trash can, unable to read anymore. In doing so, he thus missed the smaller article lower down on the front page, with the headline Judge to rule on Clarington Legacy case.
Michelle and Wes, standing there in the court, had been left speechless by the attack on him by his own mother. Worse still, they had not been alone in the court that day. They had been joined that morning by Mitch and Gabriel, who sat in shock next to them in the public gallery. When Mrs Montgomery had finished, the other people around them began to react, with some cries of "Shame!" being audible above the general booing. The judge had taken a few moments to bang his gavel, and call the court back to order, as he too longed to attack the woman before him for her attitude, but in his position he could not.
As Michelle began to cry, Mitch had moved over to take her hand, as he had seen that Wes, his initial shock over, had moved down to the floor. He stood in front of the stand where his mother still stood, her face suffused with rage, then turned his back on her. He then proceeded to give his wings an almighty flap. His mother screamed as she was blown backward to the floor, caught off guard by the sudden blast of air right at her. Everyone else in the court just assumed that she had stumbled backward herself, the rush of air not having impacted on anyone else. Mitch and Michelle had seen exactly what had happened, and had to struggle against the urge to either laugh or cheer. Sensing their change in attitude, Gabriel turned to them, and whispered "Did Wes just push her over?"
"No, he would get into trouble upstairs if he did that," said Mitch. "Let us just say that a blast from Wes' wings can be very strong…."
"Now that I would have love to have seen," sighed Gabriel, and then he made a silent plea to anyone that was listening that he might be given the ability to see his friend once more, and not just hear him, sooner rather than later.
Immediately after he had blown his mother over, not particularly caring if it got him into trouble with the heavenly authorities or not, Wes considered just leaving the scene; heading off to visit his beloved Thad, or even willing himself off to Italy to see Albert at home in his new surroundings. Even just heading back to the office seemed like a very good option. Then he glanced over at Michelle, and knew that he had to stay where he was for her sake; plus there was no doubt that Mitch and Gabriel would want to speak to him too. So it was that as the court staff went to assist his mother to her feet, he made his way back up to the gallery, passing people who were trying their best not to laugh at the sight of the woman that was now flailing about in the hands of the police. He did not turn round to glance back at her as the judge ordered that she be taken away, sent to whatever prison would be her home for the next two decades. He knew that she was still his mother; the person that connected him to Michelle, but at this precise moment, he never wished to see her ever again. Then he recalled that his mother had a hatred of orange clothing, and well, he had to try hard not to grin out of delight. After all, he had his reputation to protect…
"Well Birdy," said Michelle quietly as he drew close, "that was quite a spectacular move on your part. She will tell anyone that will listen that she was felled by a mighty gust of wind - and they will probably have her sent straight off for psychiatric assessment when she does…"
"Oh dear," said Wes in reply. "She hates the whole concept of psychiatry almost as much as she detests jumpsuits and the colour orange…" His deadpan tone was enough to make Michelle giggle - and start off Mitch and Gabriel too.
"I have to admit that I liked that little wisecrack there, Wes. The fact that you are restraining yourself from laughter reflects on what we all knew - that you were a thoroughly decent human being," said Gabriel. "If my mother had just done something like that, I would have been entirely consumed with anger - but not you. All you did was accidentally blow her over. That is why you are an angel, but then, you always were compared to the rest of us. You were kind, tolerant, thinking solely of the needs of other people… I bet that even now your only thought is how your boys are going to react when they read about the events of today. You know how they will react as well as I do; with a mixture of sadness, indignation, and an outpouring of love towards you that the rest of us could only dream about. I was a Head Warbler, but you were the Head Warbler. You don't need her; she can't touch you, not really. She is the fool, because she rejected you. I am so lucky that I had the privilege to know you during your life, and even more fortunate to still be able to hear you now. And if that is all that I can ever do, then I will be more than satisfied…."
Gabriel stopped as he realised that both Michelle and Mitch were now staring at him. "Well, that was a speech from the heart," said Mitch. "Every single word of it was true though, we would both have to agree. She is nothing - and she is paying the price now for all that she has done to other people through abusing her position."
"My father has disowned her already. She tried to get him to pay for some grand, fancy lawyer, and he might still have done so, as family is so important to him, if it wasn't for what she did to their business at Christmas. I hope that they give her the brightest orange jumpsuits that they can find," added Michelle.
"I don't actually hate her; if anything, I actually feel a little sorry for her, and a bit guilty that she is going to end up in prison," said Wes. "I often wonder if she would have ended up in this situation if…."
"We will never know, Wes, but I do know that if you had never lived, the Warblers would have been a lot worse off, and as for Michelle and her family…" said Gabriel.
"He's right," said Mitch. "If you hadn't been around, then I might have been in line for the Head Warbler job! Can you imagine that? I have, and it wasn't pretty!"
Wes laughed at that, then turned to look at Michelle. "If you weren't born, then I would still be here, working for my parents and my mad aunt. I would never have been in New York to meet Ollie, would never have ended up at the helm of one of Manhattan's finest diners, and I would be so bored! You Birdy are the one good thing that ever emerged from all the Montgomery mess…"
"Hear, hear! Thankfully, you are also still around, ready to appear to assist your family, particularly your Dalton one, whenever you are needed, guided here on those magnificent white wings, tipped with Dalton colours…." Gabriel stopped speaking then as his eyes went wide, as both Mitch and Michelle turned to stare at him. "Oh, my! You are even still wearing your Dalton tie," Gabriel continued, his voice growing smaller, until it was choked off with a sob of delight.
Mitch and Michelle had both known what had happened at once, as had Wes, who now for the first time that day was grinning from ear to ear. "Welcome to a very special club, Gabe my old friend! A speech from the heart was all it took to tip the balance…"
Gabriel nodded, and then turned to Mitch, who took the older man into his arms, and let him weep for joy that he could now see Dalton's very own guardian angel.
Back in New York that Friday afternoon, Nick and Jeff were not aware that another person had now been given the opportunity to see their angelic friends yet. Even if they had been aware, their minds would not have been on that good news having read that newspaper article. As they had travelled on the subway, they had discussed what to do with the information, and they had both agreed by the time that they arrived at the designated meeting point that they would not say a word about what they had just read in the paper until after they had done what they had promised to do to help and support their roommate, and best non-Warbler friend. They were not the only people that were involved that afternoon by any means; when they arrived it was to find that Santana, Brittany, Marley, Kitty, Mason and Sam standing waiting.
Santana looked at them, then at her watch. "Cutting it a bit fine boys…"
"Sorry, we were held up on the way out of school, and then the subway seemed to crawl along after it took forever to come," said Nick.
"Well, you are here, which means that we are only waiting for the meerkat now," said Santana, looking pointedly in the direction of Sam as she spoke.
"Don't look at me! I'm not to blame. We were making our way out of NYADA when he was called back and asked to go and see Carmen immediately. He knows what time he needed to be here for, and if he can get away from Madam Tibideaux, he will make every effort to get here. And for heavens sake, there is no point in sending him yet another text!" Sam exclaimed as he saw Santana pull out her phone. "If he is on his way, he will be on the subway, with no signal. The last thing we want is his cellphone blowing up with a series of angry texts from you the minute he gets here!"
"I'm guessing that might be why my cellphone started to buzz like a demented bee the moment that we stepped out of the station," mused Nick.
Before anyone could speak, Sebastian appeared on the run down the narrow corridor that they were all standing in, sliding to a halt next to them. He opened his mouth to apologise, but he didn't have the opportunity to speak before a door was quietly opened right in front of them to reveal Tina, who beckoned them with one hand, the finger of the other on her lips. After all, what they were about to do wasn't strictly in line with the established rules…
Mike had received the date for his final practical assessment in the middle of April. The official E-mail had popped into his inbox one morning as he was enjoying a quiet breakfast with his roommates. In one way, it was good; it was on the last day of his last term, in the early afternoon, and he thus had more time than some of his fellow students to prepare himself and his performance. The problem was that there was a note attached to the letter; he was to perform three pieces, two of which should be in his main discipline, ballet; but the third had to be one in which he exhibited his ability in other styles of dance. This was not a big issue really, as Mike had trained in the other forms back at Joffrey. The real problem was that he was not just going to be observed by the college's appointed assessors, but by the head of recruitment for the City Ballet, who would make the final offer of a position within the company based on what he saw that afternoon. That was a massive ramping up of the pressure upon him. His whole future would now effectively be decided on the basis of that one half hour in a room in Julliard one afternoon in May…
He had asked of course if he could invite anyone to come and watch, and was informed that whilst the auditorium was open to members of the public, he had to restrict the number he invited to two. Mike knew that he had to make Tina one of them, and whoever he chose to join her had to be capable of dealing with her. So in the end he had decided to ask Artie, and had told him to ensure that he brought his camera with him so that the event could be recorded for posterity. If he passed, then it was a record of his achievements; if he failed, he would be able to analyse it and see where his performance had gone wrong. Naturally, only Mike saw himself as failing and from that day on, all of his friends had done their best to give him the support that he needed. It had been Tina who had hit on the scheme for today, completely behind Mike's back, and once she had seen his chosen music, she knew what they could do. Furthermore, as she had been to Julliard so often, and knew her way around behind the scenes, she knew the location of a neglected and rarely used access to the backstage area of that auditorium…
Artie had remained in place in his spot at the front, his camera hidden in his bag on his lap, just in case the filming of performances was against the rules. Tina was known to the assessors, and she had told them that whilst Artie would sit at the front, she would sit elsewhere, so as to avoid distracting Mike. That had left her sitting in a dark spot from which she could easily creep down into the wings to allow her friends to enter in secret. She had prepared them all roughly beforehand, so the boys knew where to go and stand when she pointed, and the girls knew to follow her to a spot from which Mike would not see them and react to their presence. They had just to wait for the moment when the music began.
They stood in silence as Mike made his way to the centre of the stage and introduced himself, before he answered a few questions. Then he made a subtle nod to the side of the stage, thus indicating that he wished his music to be cued. He had chosen to began with his modern dance piece; as the intro for Land of a Thousand Dances began, Mike started to move in his usual free and effortless style; as each dance style in the song was named, Mike danced a few steps of it. Then when the lyrics of the song asked for someone to help him sing it one time, Mike managed to hide his shock as suddenly he was aware of voices erupting from the side of the stage. He recognised some of them, and he smiled inwardly to himself. He knew at once what had happened, and who must have done it, and he could not feel any happier with the level of support that he was receiving.
If the assessors had noticed that the backing track seemed to have developed a live element, they showed no sign of it as Artie watched them carefully from his seat at the front. Their eyes were fixed entirely on Mike, as he move effortlessly across the stage, almost appearing to glide above the surface as he did so. There was no way in the time that he had been allotted that he could dance anything like the thousand dances that the song title spoke of, but he appeared to be giving it a good try; that much was obvious to everyone. Artie sat and watched his friends fluid movement with pride and just a touch of jealousy, as he wished, not for the first time in his life, that he was able to be up there with him, shadowing him on every move. He clung to the hope that one day science might allow him to do so; yes, there were devices that would permit him to walk, albeit jerkily, but there was nothing yet that would allow him to dance in the free way that Mike could. Those devices that did exist were expensive, but not outwith his reach; maybe he could hire one for his wedding day, so that he could at least walk down the aisle with Kitty, and maybe move slowly around the dance floor just once… He realised suddenly that he had been so caught up in his thoughts that he had missed the end of that first song; the music had stopped as Mike took a brief break and then answered some more questions from the panel of judges about his performance. Artie was glad of two things at that point; firstly, that his own train of thought had distracted him enough that he had missed the end of the first dance, and had not therefore start to applaud, which he guessed might be frowned upon; and secondly, that no-one was asking Mike where the extra voices on his backing track had come from…
For those behind the scenes, there was great joy that all seemed to have gone well. Tina had offered all of them a thumbs up, before she had left them in silence to make her way back to her spot in the dark auditorium. As for the others, they knew that they should make their way back to the corridor, but then the second piece of music had begun, and once more Mike was moving about the stage, but this time with a poise and grace that had not been quite as evident in his first dance. Santana knew a little about ballet from her childhood; those long ago classes had remained in her memory, and now all she could do was watched in awed silence as Mike gave it his all. His movements seemed to be fluid and free; he did not need to think about what he was doing, his body just performed them. He leapt across the stage, each landing perfect. His poise was perfect, each move aligned perfectly with the rhythm of the music. His face conveyed the emotion of the piece too, and Santana suddenly felt proud and grateful that she was here to witness the culmination of all of his efforts. She was glad that Mr Chang had been persuaded to allow his son to follow his own course, and study what he loved; that he had not forced another career upon him, which would only have led to resentment. Sure, Mike would have made a good doctor, there was no doubt about that, but he would have been left with an inner sadness which could never be taken away; would have been reduced to dancing in those few brief spare moments of his life. That would have been a tragic waste of his obvious talent.
She could see the happiness on the faces of the three young woman at her side, and as she glanced across the stage, she could make out the dimly lit faces of the young men that had joined them that day. Sam and Mason seemed enthralled as they watched their friend do what he did best. Nick had an arm around Jeff, and the two of them were glowing with something akin to pride at the performance that their friend was giving at that moment; though, she realised, those two saw Mike less as a roommate and more as a brother these days. Then she realised something; there was no sign of Sebastian in that little group. He had arrived late, and now he had left early, and that led her to only one conclusion; his meeting with Carmen had to have been important. She was suddenly desperate to find out what had happened….