Papa Jack Chapter 2
The international publishing firm of Hill and Schwartz welcomed Hunt and his long-established cover identity with welcome arms. It allows him to translate books and documents from home, showing up only for weekly meetings and the occasional overseas video conference. When Jack, as everyone now calls him, can't be home with Richard, his neighbor from down the hall, Mrs. Grossman, stays with the little boy. A mother of three and grandmother of six, all living out of state, she's delighted to have a baby in her arms again. She also helped Jack get over some of the rough spots of fathering an infant.
Jack sweeps for bugs every day but so far has only found the type regularly used by his former employer. Knowing he'd just raise questions by removing them, he leaves them in place. He has nothing to hide from the agency. He even feels a little sorry for whoever has to listen to Richard's expressions of displeasure. The boy is not soft or subtle in making his opinions known. Fortunately, Mrs. Grossman suggested a musical mobile. As long as Jack keeps it wound and playing, Richard watches the motion of brightly colored alphabet letters in blessedly quiet fascination.
In the few moments that Jack has to read the newspaper, he's seen a couple of blurbs about Martha's career. He can't ignore the irony of a part she landed in a soap opera. She's playing a woman who desperately wants a child. Briefly, he wonders if she's having misgivings about the child she gave up in real life, but she doesn't seem to be. If anything, at least according to the gossip columns, she's been dating several attractive men. Martha appears to be having the time of her life without the responsibility of caring for her son. Jack glances down at the boy discoverering his toes in the bassinet next to his father's desk. Screw it! It's Martha's loss.
At six-foot-four, Jack isn't surprised that Richard is growing fast – but he didn't expect it to be this fast. It seems like the boy is moving up a size at least every couple of months. He's sitting up by himself in a carrier Jack keeps nearby while he works. Richard is babbling, too. Sometimes, Jack could swear he hears a real word, but Mrs. Grossman dismisses the idea as fatherly wishful thinking. Richard has maintained his interest in alphabet letters, now poking at them on a baby toy. Jack has also started reading to the baby. He figures there's no way that Richard could actually understand the stories, but the boy is quiet and engaged as long as Jack keeps reading. Richard also seems taken by Sesame Street, especially when the Muppets sing about letters. Sometimes, Jack idly wonders if the boy's interest in the written word presages some future career, but he can't see how it could. He doesn't remember anything that he experienced much before the age of four, and his earliest memories are hazy at best. He doubts Richard will remember hearing Jack read The Cat in the Hat or watching episodes brought to him by "The Letter C." Still, he can't wait to see what happens as the months and years pass.
Martha stares in the window of F.A.O. Schwartz. Her son would be old enough to appreciate some of the toddler toys now, but she has no idea whether he'd like a giant fuzzy bear or a ride-on train. She shakes herself. It does no good to think about that. She couldn't have taken care of a baby. She couldn't have afforded diapers, let alone a trip to the world's most incredible toy store. She still hasn't got a clue about how to be a mother. Wherever her son is and whomever he's with, he's better off. And she just booked a role on an episode of The Odd Couple, a step up from the soaps. She would never have been able to climb the New York ladder with a baby dragging her down. She did the right thing for herself and her son. She just has to keep remembering that.
Jack holds Richard's hand as they climb the steps into the school where the boy will be attending kindergarten. Richard bounces in his new sneakers. He'd gone as far as he could go in pre-school, reading real books while his classmates were still in primers. He tells Jack at least ten times a day that he wants to read more books – and write them. He started the year before, using a crayon to cover a large sheet of drawing paper with a story about a boy and a magic umbrella that he rode on the wind to wherever he wanted to go. His teacher wondered if Richard got the idea from Mary Poppins, but Jack knew that Richard hadn't seen the movie and the book was still above his reading level. He thought of the story on his own. The boy also continued to make up new ones, sitting on his father's lap and urging him to type them out. He'd gone from umbrellas to spaceships and now had a hero of his own, Captain Storm.
The advanced reading and writing would put Richard way ahead of his kindergarten classmates, although his math had yet to catch up. Still, the school principal promised Jack that Richard would get enough enrichment from the resource teacher to keep him from getting bored. Jack hopes she knows what she's getting into.
Richard types out the final draft of his second assignment in his creative writing class. Maddeningly, he'd only received a B plus on his first one. He hadn't seen anything lower than an A on a writing assignment since, well, ever. His teacher, Mr. Ross, not only a published mystery writer himself but married to a vaunted novelist, had a criticism of the first story. A character stepped in to solve the problem rather than having the protagonist solve it himself. That was deus ex machina, lamentably often a TV trope. The worst thing about Mr. Ross' comment was that he was right. Richard had incorporated what he frequently saw on TV into his writing. It was lazy and unacceptable for anyone seeking excellence as a writer. He knows he can do better, and from now on, he will. Once he gets the story he just wrote past Mr. Ross, he's going to send it off to Playerboy. His dad might be able to score him an in with Hill and Schwartz, but that isn't what he wants – not yet, anyway. Despite the lure of naked flesh for many of Playerboy's readers, it only publishes the best of fiction. It even serialized a British agent's iconic spy stories before the general public discovered them. If Richard can get his writing accepted there, he can get it accepted anywhere. He's determined to keep trying until he does.
Richard regards the thick envelope from Playerboy. It's the stamped self-addressed envelope he sent with his tenth story. He frowns as he tears it open, expecting the usual, "We receive much work of merit, unfortunately…. His mouth gapes as he reads the enclosed letter. "We are pleased to…."
Jack comes running into the room at the yell that echoes through their apartment. "Richard, what the…."
"Dad!" Richard shouts. "They accepted it! Playerboy accepted my Derrick Storm story."
"So they finally got some sense in their heads," Jack declares. "When are you sending them the next one?"