Failings of the Fathers: 42

Aiden woke from his late afternoon nap without them knowing, as they sat around his bedside, quietly.  He poked his head up, and said, "Hey, what is going on?  Is it a funeral?  Can't be a good old Irish wake?"

"No, it can't, because y'ar not departed, Son.  Y'ar still here with us," Timothy said.

"I have an idea," Tina said.

Everyone looked at her, and aside from Aiden, the feeling seemed to be, "not another one."

"Don't look at me that way, Todd."  Tina said.

"What way?  Like I want you to stop getting ideas?  Why would you ever think that?"

"Anyway," she emphasized her words, "I have something important to do.  I'm going to ask the both of you to step out."

Timothy's eyebrow went up, and Todd laughed.  Aloud.

"No, no, just . . . come on, guys, give me a break here.  I need to talk to Aiden alone."

Todd was already standing, and Timothy got up as well.  "We'll give ya some privacy," the older man said.

They went into the hallway and found the row of four chairs against the wall.  Timothy plopped down into one.  "I might lose one of my sons, again."

***

"Dr. Martino, do ya have a moment for this old nun?" Sister Rebecca Katherine asked him.

"Sure, what's going on?   Come in."

She walked in, dressed in street clothes, and he was surprised at how different she looked.  Without her veil, her slightly curly salt and pepper hair was framing her face with wisps here and there.  He said, "I almost didn't recognize you."

"Yes, I know.  I am cleaning my habit and veil today.  This is just me."

"I see that.  What can I do for you?"

"I had the dream, again.  The one where the tall figure is hurting the children, or taking them.  Possibly both."

"All right.  And what does that make you think, Sister?"

"Nothing really.  Nothing more than the fact that I dreamed it.  However, there's a change."

"What change?"

"The man.  I can see his face now.  It's Peter Manning, I'm sure of it."

The room fell silent, and then Ray said, "Of course it is.  I showed you his photo from his file.  You distinctly told me that there was no face on the man, or that you could not see it.  Then I showed you the picture, and now there's a face.  Amazing what the brain does."

"Yes," she said, but she was not convinced in the least.  He could tell.  He waited.

"Is there something else?" he asked her.

"I don't think so.  I just wanted to tell ya that I had it again."

"The same dream?"

"Yes, except for that change."

"The children were in danger recently, you told me about a bear . . ."

"Yes.  Yes that must be it.  Thank God for Todd that day."

"Yes, that's true.  Todd was fortunate to have been able to handle that one.  Wild animals are not predictable."  He stopped a moment.  "But human beings are, more or less.  Don't you think?"

"What are ya getting at, Ray?  I'm an old woman, but I can see ya have a goal."

"Just saying that people are pretty predictable, those without mental illness.  The reason for the dream, and the change in it, are pretty well explained."

"I suppose y'ar right," she said, standing.  "The power of suggestion.  Also, with Bea's reaction to Todd, and the rest.  Y'ar right, Doctor.  Good day, I'm going to the chapel for a bit."

"Good bye, Sister, see you later on."

"Yes," she said, walking out the door.

***

Todd said, "Now, who said you're losing me?  Because you're certainly not losing Aiden."

Timothy looked at his adopted son, and said, "Ah, is that right?"

"Yes, that's right.  He's not going anywhere."

"How do ya know that, My Boy?"

"Because I've been where he is.  On the end of something horrible and on the brink of something else.  You want that something else, and you'll fight and fight to get it.  He won't be giving up anytime soon.  Seems that he wants the new life."

Timothy didn't speak, he just turned and looked straight ahead and so did Todd.  Both men had their elbows on their knees, and were slightly leaning forward.  Timothy said, "How did ya get so wise?"

"Experience, I guess.  With all the shit thrown at me over the last . . . oh, fuck, my whole life, it's just how it is."

"Well, I suppose.  But brain surgery, seems to have so many risks.  He already has the scar tissue.  Now this."

"Maybe they can get it all at once," Todd said.

"Eric's been talking about things that . . . he may have experienced.  It . . . reminded me of ya, Todd, the things ya went through."

"Why would they be much different?  We both were held by the same people, just at different times, for different reasons."

"That's true.  Well, I'm worried about this surgery.  I don't want to lose him before I got to know him. As a man, ya know what I mean.  And I don't want to call my sister, she'll want to run out here and interrupt her internship."

"You don't have to call her right now.  If something . . . if you feel you need to, I'll send the jet for her.  Not sure you should worry about the interruption to the Mountainview thing."

"Why do ya say that?"

"It's not real."

"What?"

"I mean, it's real, but it's not a special program.  It's Ray and it's me.  I came up with the idea, to fund her college education.  I knew she'd never take it from me otherwise.  Ray had a covert mission about it, and he's stuck to it pretty well."

"Ya amaze me at times, Young Man."

"Young Man?  Where they heck did you get that?  I have grays."

"Grays?  Please."  He pointed to his silvery hair.

"I never felt young, even when I was."

"That comes with a hard life," Timothy said.

"Must be," Todd said, feeling a buzz from his phone.  "Hang on, I should take this.  Yeah, Shaun?  Huh?  You're kidding, right?  Okay, I'll handle it.  Yep.  Yeah, sure.  Everything okay at the house?  Okay.  Thanks."  

He hung up, and his forlorn expression brought Timothy to ask, "What's the matter?"

"Sam.  He saw Momma's drawings.  He's been having nightmares.  When I go away, Sam always has trouble.  Heck, Jack does too, just different."

"They love ya, pure and simple, and it means ya need to reassure them and be there as much as ya can.  What pictures did he see?"

"Let's just say they were of her dreams, but they were about my abuse and hers."

"Ah, not good.  Not good at all."

"No.  But I'll handle it on Skype later."

The door opened to Aiden's room.  "Well, it's all settled.  Come on in you two, we need witnesses."

"To what, you coming up with another suspect?"  Todd asked, rolling his eyes.

"No.  You're going to a wedding."

***

Malcolm and Miguel were in the solarium, sitting by the window.  Malcolm was reading a novel, and Miguel was closing his eyes, with the late afternoon sun coming through and warming the room.  Both were in peaceful solitude, but not alone.  That was something that had suited them since they had met; many hours had been spent in quiet solace between the Englishman and the young American.

Calvin stepped into the doorway of the solarium, and since there were no other people at that time, he found himself walking toward them.  Malcolm glanced up, and then back down to his paper.  Calvin sat, near them, and brought out his lighter and cigar.

"Are you seriously going to light that in here, after you've been told so many times you can't?"  Malcolm began,

This alerted Miguel, who sat up from his slumped position and said, "Hey."

Calvin disregarded Miguel's greeting.  "Can't wait to get out of here.  Certain types of people I don't care for."

Malcolm was not a fan of Calvin's biases, especially against Miguel, who he deemed, in his mind, fragile and young.  

Miguel's gander was up.  "What kind of people would that be?"

Calvin absently played with his lighter, igniting it on and off repeatedly.  "Fucking fruits like you."

Miguel was close to being on his feet, when Malcolm said, "Miguel, not worth the bother.  The old man can't even lift a hand to you, that's why his mouth works like a motor."

Miguel thought better of it; the oldest of them was quite a bit older, and this reminded him to keep his cool.  He thought of their first days, the crazy, exciting but silly capers they pulled, and sat back down.  

Calvin said, "Won't apologize for that."

"Of course not.  When have you?"  Miguel said.

Malcolm watched the two of them.  Calvin's attitude toward Miguel had changed profoundly since the younger man was put into the psych ward in recent times.  And, of course, that was when Miguel had outed himself to them.  Malcolm couldn't care less; nothing like that had ever bothered him.  And, it never would.  Nothing seemed as important anymore since losing his outside life.  

He wondered if he would ever be outside the clinic again.  If he did, where would he go?  What would he do?  He could be a gardener again, like he was in the past.  He loved to see things growing, and know that he helped them get there.  He missed the smell of the fresh basil when he was working in the vegetable patches at the Kensington Palace Gardens in West London, and tending roses in the flower conservatory.  He and his wife had a beautiful life there, living on the grounds in a small cottage, simply, and sometimes, especially in summers, living off the garden itself.  The lump in his throat increased, until he was shaken from his thoughts by Calvin standing up and pushing the table away from himself.

"I'm out of here anyway, there's nothing to keep me here any longer.  Besides, I have things to do," he said, putting the lighter into his pocket, and putting out the cigar in a planter by the door as he exited.

"What happened there?  You were, well, nowhere,"  Miguel asked.

"I was somewhere, believe me.  What happened with you two?"

"I think he's done with us, and this place.  His patience ran out, or something.  Doesn't like me anymore, obvious reasons.  Besides, he always was sort of . . . dark.  I don't even know if that is the right word."

"He's got revenge on his mind, I know that, and I know how it feels.  I almost let it consume me, once.  I had to let go.  The escapades the three of us were involved in when we first got here made a perfect distraction."

"Hmf.  I can relate to that.  I felt the same.  He's . . . changed.  Worse."

"He's hateful.  It takes people over.  I know, I was there once."

"Yeah, and now you can't even go outside.  The place you loved before."  Miguel said.

Miguel had spoken the truth that usually remained silent between them.  "I'm working on it, I guess."  Malcolm said.

"If you had the money, you could pay for that medication.  The one that's supposed to help with the anxiety and all."

"Yes, I suppose."

"Why don't you try it without the medicine?  I think you could do it."  Miguel gave his vote of confidence. 

Malcolm looked outside.  "I just might."

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