Failings of the Fathers: 29

Malcolm was sitting by the window in the clinic solarium.  The sun, even though it was still not warm weather, was bathing him through the glass, and he had tipped his head back and was soaking it in.  He closed his eyes, enjoying the peace and solace of the time alone.  

His afternoon visit to Miguel had not gone quite as expected.  Young and impressionable, raised Catholic and very much tied to family throughout his life, Miguel had lost all touch with reality and was not even responding to their visitations any more.  He was almost dead - a vegetable of sorts - staring off into nothingness in his own world.  Malcolm swallowed remembering it; it was not something he wanted to stay with for long. With his own illness, he stayed away from things that upset him as much as he could, and focused on his medication regimen and staying positive.  There was hope, for Miguel, as long as there were people who cared enough to try.

He sat up and opened his eyes again, focused on the outside world, as beautiful as it was, and as harsh.  He turned when he heard Calvin making his way into the room, and sighed.  

"Miguel's not doing well," he said aloud.

"So?  Every man for himself."  Calvin said.

"Is that how you see it?"

"Yep," the older man said, taking out a cigar.

"There's no smoking in here.  And, you have that medical thing going on.  Put that away, Chap."

He thought about it, holding a lighter to it, and then retracted.  "Whatever.  You and rules."

"Not good for you, anyway."

"Not much is."

"You're still as crotchety as ever.  Still angry?"

"Yep."

"What are you going to do?"

He crinkled his face as if considering.  "Get revenge."

Malcolm laughed, "Oh, come on.  You and your dry sense of humor."

Calvin looked into Malcolm's eyes directly, and just stared.  The look was cold and Malcolm wasn't sure he was ready for it, at least not directed at him.  He said, "You're serious?"

"Yep."

"So what are you going to do?  With your illness, you can't get very far."

"I'm cured."

"You're cured?"

"Yep."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Oh, I see," Malcolm said, doubting.  Is this man delusional?  And, he makes fun of Miguel?  "Then, what's the plan?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"I don't know, guess because we've been partners in crime now for a while."

"Your words."

"So, revenge.  What's it about this time?  Money?  Power?  Sex?  Some kind of lost love?"

He didn't respond.  He folded his arms over his chest and ignored Malcolm's question.

Malcolm said, "All right.  If that's how you want it.  I'm going to go visit Aiden.  At least he has something more than hate to talk about."  

He got up, and Calvin grabbed his arm.  "You're getting too close.  Acting like he's really your friend."

"Why don't you let go, and I'll forget your ornery attitude today."

The older man let his grip loosen, and Malcolm walked off.

Calvin turned back to the window, and brought his cigar back out.  He flicked his lighter and lit up.

***

"Todd, ya did it?  Ya went and faced the last of the demons.  There's not much left now, but to move ahead with y'ar family."  Timothy was starting to appreciate the blasted contraption Todd had gotten him, called a "smartphone."

"I guess, yeah.  It feels, different.  Like nothing is on my shoulders.  It's been a long time."

"I understand that.  We've got a wee bit of trouble here.  I'm starting to think that these friends of y'ar brotha's are not what meets the eye."

"What do you mean?"

"Tina brought up something . . ."

"Dad, really?  You aren't listening to my sister?  She's not all that sharp."

"Well, in this case, she may just be.  She was questioning these men, the ones that hang around Aiden a lot.  His so-called 'friends.'  I can't find much on any of them, as in past history, and they do cling.  She thought possibly they might be out to hurt him."

"I never thought of that.  You mean, the Men of 21.  Like, remnants?"

"Yes.  This is what she mentioned, and when I thought of it, it wasn't far off as something they might do. Could these men be plants?"

Todd had never entertained the thought, but now, it made some sense.  "Yeah, I guess anything is possible.  Should I get John McBain on this for you?"

"No, I want to do a little more here, first.  I can call him if it's warranted.  I do want to watch them a bit more.  Of course, I was trying to eavesdrop, and y'ar sister interfered."

Todd rolled his eyes, "No, not Tina?"  His sarcasm was thick.

Timothy laughed, "Yes, well she did.  I'll let ya know if there's more to follow.  Right now, I'm glad to say one of me boys is on the mend."

"It's over.  It's weird, almost, not to have to think about it anymore.  Of course, my mother, she's . . ." his voice trailed off.

"Not well?"

"No.  We're trying to hold her together, but she's just becoming delusional again, like regressing.  She's had a few episodes.  I'm doing everything I can not to put her in Mountainview again.  She needs the family."

"I'm sorry, Son."  Timothy said.

"Thanks.  She'll get what she needs to be well.  That I can tell you."

"I'm sure.  Kiss that little babby for me."

"I will.  Take care, Dad.  Same to Aiden and my goofy sister."

"All right."  When he hung up, he breathed out, and happened to see Malcolm coming, alone, toward Aiden's room.  He smiled, putting the cell in his pocket.

"Hello, Timothy," Malcolm said, "Is Eric awake?"

"He's awake, sure, and what's got ya here today?"

"Just visiting.  He's funny, a good friend.  I enjoy his stories."

"Ah, yes, he has a lot of them.  What about ya, Malcolm?  We never hear much about y'ar life prior to this clinic."

"Not much to tell," he seemed dismissive.  "Just a boring life, I suppose."

He walked past the older man into Aiden's room, and Timothy followed.

***

"I'm bringing Momma to Ray in a few minutes, just wanted to tell you.  This was the earliest appointment I could get for her,"  Todd said.

"Okay," Blair said, holding Jewel over her shoulder and lightly patting her.  "I wanted to talk to you about that, and never got the chance."

"Sure, what's up?  We've got about ten minutes."  He said, taking the baby from her and cuddling her to him.

"Did you see her sketch pad, Todd?"

"Which?"

"The one with her dreams in it?"

"No.  Tell me about it.  I'll tell Ray, so he can help her."

"I think you ought to bring it to him, honestly.  Telling you won't do justice."  She left the room, and returned with it in her hand.  "Take a look at this."

He handed the baby back to her, and leafed through it.  One was worse than the other, and his face showed concern.  "She kills him.  In her dream."

"Yes.  And he's alive in her dreams, and we know he's not.  I'm concerned about her."  Blair said, gently hugging Jewel to her.

"She's . . " he sat on the bed.  He flipped through the pages again, and finished his sentence, "losing it."

"I think so."

"I . . . don't know what I'm thinking keeping her here."

"No, that's not what I meant.  She's not a danger to us.  She's just so sad, Todd, and afraid.  We need to help her."

He studied the last drawing, the incomplete one, of her standing over Peter's dead body.  Something was in her hand, but not yet clear to the eye.  He said, "I know," and looked up.  The light hit his hazel eyes in a way that the moisture in them shined brightly.

She said, "I'm so sorry, Todd, that she's going through this."

"She'll get well.  I'll bring her every day, if that is what it takes.  I'll make sure."  He stood up, and took the pad with him out to the copter.  

Blair knew he needed to be alone for a moment, and went, with Jewel, to go and get Bitsy.  She was in her room, drawing in another sketch pad.  Blair saw over her shoulder that it was a lovely spring scene. There were small birds all around a fountain, and flowers.  She said, "Momma, that's a pretty one."

Bitsy nodded.

"Todd's ready to bring you to see Ray now, okay.  Let's get your coat."

Blair helped her with it, and Bea took her mittens and hat and put them on.  For a moment, she resembled a child, so much, that Blair's heart broke.  Bitsy leaned over and kissed Jewel's head, and smiled, then headed to the bedroom to get into the copter with Todd.  Blair, glancing down at the picture again, gasped a little when she read the caption:

The sparrows are coming back.

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