Scene I
The wind blew through the door as it opened, ruffling his paperwork. James "Jimmy" Ellison glanced up in surprise; all the kids they were expecting today were in, save for the ones who would arrive after the school day ended. The Cascade Youth Care and Recreation Center didn't often get "drop-offs", but that's what looked like was heading his way. Coming in from the raw weather was a smallish man, dark hair, rumpled work clothing. With him was a small boy, no more than six from the looks of him, struggling against the hold the man had on his arm.
"Don't wanna," the boy was insisting. "You can't make me!"
"Blair, we've been over this. I can't stay home with you; I have to go to work. Until your mom is better--"
"Don't leave me here! Please!"
Jimmy cleared his throat as the duo approached his desk. "Can I help you?"
"Dennis Clary," the man held out his free hand. "I need to leave Blair here with you for the day."
Jimmy frowned as he shook the hand, then frowned harder when he looked at the boy. Rumpled, dirty-looking clothing, tousled hair and tear streaks on a face which appeared too small for the eyes that shone from it. "Has he been here before?"
"No, he hasn't. He wouldn't be here now if his mom wasn't in the hospital, but I need to go to work--I can't take anymore time off right now."
The young man behind the desk shifted his eyes back from the child to the man still holding on to him. "I'll need his shot records, and this," he pulled an application from the pile on his desk, "needs to be filled out."
"For the love of-- Look, kid. I'm desperate here, okay? I don't have his shot records, and if I had time to fill out paperwork, I'd stay home with him again today. Please. Help me out here, cut me some slack."
Jimmy hesitated, looked at the kid again. His eyes were solemn, scared-looking. "Mister, I could get in a lot of trouble if I don't follow the rules. I need this job to pay for tuition next fall--I can't risk it for you."
"Can I bring the shot stuff tomorrow?"
"I--" Jimmy opened his mouth to tell the guy to get lost, he didn't need this kind of headache on a cold day in December, a Monday no less. Then the kid shuffled his feet, his head bowing as if he was expecting something bad to happen to him. "I guess...but if you don't bring 'em tomorrow, Sir, I won't be able to take him again." What the hell am I doing? Mrs. Kincaid would have a shit-fit if she knew what I was doing! Thoughts of the steel-haired matron who oversaw the Rec Center operation were enough to make Jimmy shudder. "Here," he thrust the application toward the older man. "Make sure you bring this back, too."
"Thanks, kid. I appreciate it." He folded the piece of paper up and stuck it in his pocket, then turned to the boy. "Be good, Blair, and I'll be back when I get done at work."
"Don't leave me here! Please!" The kid was sniffling again, and Jimmy grimaced. He never got used to these scenes; no matter how often he had to watch them, he still hated them.
"You'll be fine here, Blair." The man was trying to push the clinging child away, while backing toward the door. "C'mon, let go, Blair. I have to go!" He pushed the kid off him and practically ran for the door, ignoring the forlorn child who was crumpled on the floor now, sobbing.
"Hey," Jimmy got up and headed for him, stopping when the boy cringed back from him. "Hey," he continued in a softer tone, "it's okay. My name's Jimmy. What's yours?"
The boy sniffled and looked up, his eyes shining from the moisture of the tears. "B-Blair. Blair Sandburg."
"I thought your dad said Clary?"
"He's not my dad." The child sniffled again and wiped his nose across the sleeve of his jacket. Jimmy shuddered and reached into his pocket for his handkerchief.
"Here, blow." He held it to the kid's nose. Blair complied obediently, stuffing the hanky into his own coat pocket when Jimmy handed it to him.
"Whaddaya mean, he's not your dad?"
The kid shrugged, then took the hand that Jimmy stretched toward him, lifting himself off the ground. "He's my mom's boyfriend, and we're living with him, so I guess he's kinda my dad, but he's not my real dad, y'know?"
Great, Jimmy thought with a trace of bitterness. Not only did I break the rules for this guy, the kid's not even his! Outwardly he sighed. "C'mon, kid, let's go get you cleaned up a little. Did you eat breakfast?" At Blair's negative headshake he steered him toward the back of the building, and the kitchen.
*********
It was a slow day at the Center, as Mondays tended to be, especially during the winter. Generally speaking the Center was for school-aged children whose parents worked and couldn't be home after school, but who were too old for a daycare scenario. Jimmy was really grateful that Mrs. Kincaid didn't work on Mondays; he wasn't certain he could have dealt with facing her right now.
He'd started this job during the summer when he needed to get some community service points in. He needed a certain number of points along with his credits to turn over to the recruiter at the end of each semester. He was three semesters shy of graduating, then embracing the intoxicating freedom of the military. Not that he expected that life to be free, so to speak, just that it would get him away from Cascade, and his father. Even living in his own place, he was too close to the senior Ellison.
"Can I have more?" The soft voice jarred him from his thoughts and Jimmy focused on the kid. He'd inhaled the biscuit sandwich and applesauce like nothing.
"Sure, kid. Don't they feed you at home?" It was intended to be a joke, but the small boy took him seriously.
"Uh-huh, but mom says I'm growing a lot and I have to eat a lot."
"Relax, Blair. I was just teasing." Jimmy got up and got another biscuit. "You want more milk, too?"
"Yes, please." Well, he had halfway decent manners, anyway. The young man shuddered when he realized that was his father's voice wandering through his head. Ugh, what a thought.
He seated himself across from the kid and watched, amused, as he inhaled the other biscuit and second glass of milk. We couldn't afford to feed this kid for long. With a pang he remembered Stephen at this age; always hungry, always running, chattering, fun to be with. Nothing like the sullen, competitive teenager he was now. Even moving out of the house hadn't erased the blots on their relationship. Jimmy sighed.
"How old are you, Blair?"
"I'll be eight next month." The youngster had finished and was sitting, swinging his legs impatiently, waiting for Jimmy to decide what to do with him.
"I don't really have a class to put you in right now. We don't get many school-aged kids during the day. You're too old to sit with the threes and fours--"
Blair wrinkled his small nose. "Babies. I could read to 'em, I guess."
"You read much, do you?"
"I'm readin' this," the boy dug in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a book, then held it out for Jimmy to see.
"'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens." He read the title aloud, then shook his head. "No way, kid."
"Uh-huh!"
"What's it about?"
"This mean old guy named Scrooge who's gonna wear chains when he's dead if he doesn't start being nice to people."
Well, that's a fair summary of the story, Jimmy had to give that to the kid. "You like it?"
"Uh-huh."
"Tell you what. You sit and be quiet, and read, and you can sit up front with me. At least until a teacher gets here who can take you. How's that sound?"
The vivid blue eyes lit up, like a light-bulb had turned on inside the kid. "Yeah! Great!"
"You gotta be quiet, though, kid. I mean it. I got work I gotta do."
"I'll be quiet, Jimmy. I promise." The child stared at him with large, expressive eyes, and Jimmy missed his little brother so bad in that moment he could hardly stand the ache in his chest.
"C'mon," he said, a little gruffly. Blair followed behind him, quiet.
*********
He is quiet. How does a little kid his age stay so quiet? The answer, of course, was in the book that had mesmerized him. Jimmy found himself looking up frequently to watch the boy, enjoying the pleasure written on the small face. He'd been so unhappy when he'd been brought in; now, a few hours later he looked like he'd been smiling all morning.
"Hey, Blair. Where's your mom, again?"
"She's in the hospital." The expressive eyes saddened, and Jimmy was sorry for ruining the joy on his face.
"I'm sorry. What's wrong with her?"
"'Pendicitis. She got real sick--Dennis had to carry her to the car." Blair frowned. "She's been there for a long time now, but they won't let me see her, 'cause they say I'm too little. Am I too little, Jimmy?"
"Probably to go into the hospital, yeah, I think you are. I don't know--I haven't been in one for a long time."
"How big do you have to be?"
"I don't know, Blair. Bigger than you are now." Jimmy reached over and ruffled the boy's curls, smiling at the silky touch of them. "Got your mom's hair?"
"Nope. She's got red hair. She says I must look like my dad, 'cause I don't look like her at all."
"Where's your dad?"
"Don't know." A philosophical shrug that looked out of place from one so young. "I never met him." The boy sprang to his feet suddenly, rushing to the window. "It's snowing! Jimmy, it's snowing outside!"
"Yeah, it is, isn't it?" The young man walked to the window to look out, wondering how much they'd get. "Hey, sport, what's so exciting about a little snow?" The kid's enthusiasm was infectious and Jimmy smiled at him.
"It's snow, that's what makes it great! Oh, boy--" Blair pressed his nose to the glass. "It doesn't snow down south...and it doesn't snow in Sri Lanka. I never seen snow 'til we got here."
"Sri Lanka?"
"Naomi's got friends there."
"Naomi?"
"My mom."
"You call your mom by her first name?"
"Sometimes." Another shrug. "If I want to, she lets me, but I mostly call her mom."
"Hey, Blair--you want to go play out in the snow? I'll take you outside, if you want." Now what in the hell had possessed him to make an offer like that? Because he looks so happy looking at it...because something makes me want to make this kid happy. He looks like he hasn't seen a lot of it lately.
Sure enough, vivid blue eyes were open wide and staring at him. "You mean that? Really?"
Jimmy shrugged. Now that he'd made the offer it would be callous at the least to take it back. "Yeah, sure. Get your coat on."
"Cool!" Blair grabbed his coat from the peg by Jimmy's desk and shrugged it on before the young man had hardly moved. "I'm ready, Jimmy!"
"In a minute." He walked to Administrator's office. Anna, Mrs. Kincaid's secretary, smiled at him. "Anna--I'm going outside for a little while." He'd stopped by and introduced her to Blair on their way back from breakfast. Like himself, he could see Anna was taken with the little imp who was currently jumping circles around him.
"Have fun, boys," her eyes twinkled at him. Anna was easily the same age as his mother--if his mother was still alive. Since he hadn't seen her in over a decade, it was hard to know.
"Yeah! Yeah! Snow, snow, snow," the boy chanted as they headed outside.
"Fun, right," Jimmy called back as he was dragged out the door.
*********
They played outside for an hour. After the first fifteen minutes, Jimmy quit worrying about how much paperwork he still had to do; the books he had to read for the military history class he was taking on Tuesday nights; how much money he still needed for next semester's tuition. Basically, he forgot about everything except how much fun it was to just let go and play in the snow like a kid...and to listen to the imp's laughter.
He hadn't realized how much he'd missed hearing a kid laugh. His brother hadn't laughed in a long, long time. He hadn't laughed a lot--not like this, full of abandon. Blair was like a whirling dervish--spinning circles around him, then around the playground equipment, then around nothing, before falling into a dizzy, giggling, stumbling pile. Jimmy laughed and picked him up, holding him steady until he could manage on his own again. Then the boy would start all over again.
They chased each other around the play equipment, playing an oddball game of tag. There was enough snow already on the ground to make loose snowballs, so whoever got hit was 'it', until the next volley. After that they made a snowman, though Blair declared him a pretty poor excuse for a snowman, since Jimmy wouldn't give up his scarf.
They went inside, cold, wet and laughing, just in time to see Anna hanging up the phone on Jimmy's desk.
"Message for you, Jimmy. From Blair's father." Then she went back to her desk.
*************************************************************
Scene II
"Anna, I can't stay with him--I've got classes and stuff tonight."
Jimmy sent Blair down to Mrs. Andrew's room, even though it was the threes and fours. He had to get this all sorted out, and didn't want the boy around while he did it.
Dennis Clary had called and asked for Jimmy to take Blair home, to Clary's house, please, and stay the night there with him. He had to unexpectedly work a double-shift, there was no way to get out of it, and no one else he could call to baby-sit. There was a spare key under the doormat, go in and make himself at home. Clary would be by tomorrow afternoon to pick up Blair from the Center. No mention of shot records or anything else.
"Jimmy, I don't know what to tell you. I have to baby-sit my granddaughter tonight, or I'd do it for you, but I'm due in Clearland by six o'clock."
"This guy is a real jerk, Anna. He brings the kid in this morning, dirty, hungry, no records, nothing. Shit." Jimmy realized he'd just told the Administrator's secretary that he'd accepted a child without proper paperwork. Great, there goes the job.
"It's okay, Jimmy." The secretary smiled at him, then sobered. "I figured as much. Doesn't much care for his son's welfare, does he?"
The young man sighed, wondering himself. Even my dad wouldn't have just left me with strangers--asked them to take me home and care for me. At least he would have had them checked out; known who was caring for his sons. "Blair says Clary isn't his dad, just his mom's boyfriend. But mom's in the hospital with appendicitis. I think Mr. Clary doesn't much like playing daddy if mommy isn't around." Jimmy couldn't believe he was saying that, but that was his take on the whole situation.
"I think it sounds like you're right." Anna considered the situation, her arms crossed over her chest. "We could always call a social worker. It doesn't sound like a stable family structure, anyway."
"What family is, anymore?" Jimmy found himself asking, bitterly. Family, to him, meant caring where you could find it. Blood didn't necessarily mean jack, in his book. "Let me think about it, okay?" His ears prickled with the sound of muffled crying. "Do you hear that?"
"Hear what? I don't--Jimmy! Where are you going?"
"Be right back, Anna," he called over his shoulder as he headed out the door.
Two turns down the hallway sat a small boy with tousled auburn curls and runny nose, and eyes so blue Jimmy figured he could drown there in them. He was sitting with his face buried in his jacket, small shoulders jerking with the force of the sobs still pulling at him. The boy looked up when Jimmy slid down to sit next to him.
"You don't want me, either," he said softly, his eyes still wet, tear stains tracking down his cheeks. "Dennis only pretended to want me, 'cause he wanted her. Jimmy--I miss my mom!" More sobs shook the small frame and Jimmy reached over and hauled the kid into his lap.
"Hey, I'm sure it's not like that," he began, holding the small figure close.
"Yes it is--I heard you tell Anna. You know it's true." Blair sniffled, eyes glaring defiantly at the young man. "I thought you were my friend, Jimmy."
"I am your friend, Blair. But I can't baby-sit you tonight--I have classes--I'm going to college, and I have to go..."
"Can't I go with you? You know I can be quiet." Blair snuggled against Jimmy, cuddling up to him.
"You can't sit in a college classroom!"
"How come? I'll take some books. I like to watch people. Please, Jimmy? Don't make me go somewhere with strangers...please."
It was pleading like he'd heard this morning, only Clary hadn't listened to the boy; hadn't heard the note of loneliness and near-desperation that Jimmy was hearing now. Maybe he heard it because it had a kindred voice within him. He knew what it was like to be left alone; to find no one nearby who would listen to you; to be ignored by a parent. Whether or not Blair's mother meant to ignore her son, she hadn't used good judgment in arranging for his care. Yeah, she was sick. But most parents had contingency plans for such things. At least the parents who used the Center, admittedly the only parents he knew, did.
"Okay," he said finally, his arms hugging the small body tightly. "You can come with me to class. But Blair--you have to be quiet. If you're not, I'll get kicked out of class and that can't happen." I don't believe I'm even considering this, much less agreeing to it. What the hell is going on with my brain today?
"I'll be good," the boy promised solemnly and Jimmy believed him. He hugged him once more, then set him up on his feet before standing up himself.
"I'll have to stop by my apartment and pick up some clothes. Class is at 6:30 tonight; we'll have to get you some dinner...my books are already in my truck. And hey--does Mrs. Andrews know you're here?"
"Thanks, Jimmy!" Blair launched himself at the young man, arms tackling him around the waist as he hugged enthusiastically. "Thanks so much! You're not gonna be sorry, I promise."
I sure as hell hope not.
*********
"Tell me again, Mr. Ellison?" Professor Stanley raised a delicate eyebrow at Jimmy and the young man blushed.
"He's my cousin's kid, she needed a baby-sitter, and I'm all she could find. I promise he'll be quiet--he's real good at being quiet." The boy in question fidgeted beside him.
"Boys his age are never quiet," the professor began, then smiled. "However, since this is a study of mankind class, we'll give it a try. Sit in the back with him though, and keep an eye on him, okay?"
"Thank you, ma'am," Jimmy said, relief rushing through him.
"I've raised four boys myself, Mr. Ellison. I understand these things. Now go on, get to class before you make us both late." She shooed them out of the office.
"Okay, kid, we're in the clear," Jimmy sighed, gently guiding the child through the crush of people.
"How come you told her I was your cousin?"
"I couldn't very well give her the whole truth, could I? It sounds weird to me, Sport, and I'm living it. Nope, this is better."
"What class you got?"
"Anthropology 101." Jimmy grimaced. "Not my thing, but it's one of those required classes."
"I can't wait 'til I'm old enough to go to college. This is really neat! Thanks for bringing me." Blair jiggled next to him and Jimmy smiled.
"You don't stand still very often, do you."
"Huh-uh." Blair made a face. "Naomi says the same thing."
"Hey, I'm not complaining, just making an observation." Jimmy laughed at the expression on Blair's face. He was graced with a blazingly beautiful smile, and a bright flash of blue eyes. "C'mon, Sport, lets get to class. We gotta get a seat in the back today, and those are the ones that fill up the fastest." Jim pressed onward, guiding the child beside him with a gentle hand on his back. His nose wrinkled when he picked up the faint smell of marijuana, wafting through the college hallway. He hated this part of college sometimes; even here, inside the building, it was like the 'party' atmosphere thrived.
"How come?"
"How come what?" He broke from his musings to look at the small boy next to him.
"How come the seats in the back fill up first? I'd want to sit right up in the front."
"You're in to school, aren't you?"
Blair shrugged. "Never been to school a whole lot, Jimmy, but I like to read and stuff. I mean, I've been to school, but not like school, y'know? Naomi's taught me a lot, and I went to the commune school for a while."
"You don't go to school?" The concept was such a foreign one to him, for a minute Jim was sure he'd heard wrong. What kind of mother keeps her kid out of school? He schooled his face into neutrality, not wanting to upset Blair with his thoughts. A lot of things made sense now--like why the kid wasn't in school to start with.
"I don't go to formal school, Jimmy. Naomi says I'm in school all the time, if I'm learning things. And there's always so much neat stuff to see and do and learn. I've been to zoos and museums, and all kinds of nature hikes and stuff. Mom doesn't want me to just learn from books--she says life is the best school, the best teacher of all."
"Well--that's true enough, to a point." Jimmy had to concede the point to the unseen Naomi, but his traditional background was still screaming at him. "There's a lot to be learned in books--and the classroom--too, though."
"I know." The little boy was still looking around avidly, and Jimmy felt himself grinning. The kid's curiosity level had to be higher than a cat's. Blair tilted his head back to look up and the feeling of wanting to drown himself within those azure depths washed over Jimmy again. It looked...peaceful in there. Calm. For half a second Jimmy wished for the calm he sensed from Blair. The child's voice called him back from wherever it was he'd drifted for a minute, pulling him from the tide. "...school. It'll be really neat, I think. I can't wait to go. Can't wait to go to college, either!"
Jimmy blinked, looking around. He'd still walked, while drifting to wherever he'd gone. Strange feeling, that. They were in front of the classroom now, and he guided the smaller boy deftly through the door and toward the back of the room. "Don't grow up too fast, Sport. Enjoy being young. Once you get older, life will try to kick you in the teeth."
Blair's face reflected confusion and Jimmy mentally kicked himself. This child was just that: a child. He had, hopefully, a long time to go before he learned how ugly life could be; how things weren't always what they seemed, and how easy it was to get bitter at a young age. He glanced over at the kid as he settled himself behind a desk next to Jimmy, a look of concentration on his young face. I hope you don't ever know what it feels like to be kicked in the teeth. I hope that you'll always have the outlook you have now--that you can do anything, be anything...find joy in everything.
"Jimmy?"
The young man shook his head, giving a brief pat to the curly head tilted toward him again. "Never mind, kiddo. I was mouthin' off--no biggie. You gotta be quiet now, 'cause the professor's ready to talk."
Blair nodded solemnly. "I will," he whispered, sotto voce, bending his head to the notebook Jimmy had given him.
Notes:
Me: Act II will pick up about 20 years later, with Real Time, with their first meeting...and so on...
Linda: oh, man!
Me: wow...I just got that totally worked out! Cooool...thanks! :-)
Linda: I didn't do anything....
Me: heh. you let me ramble!
[Back] [Email]