The two of them sat there for several more minutes, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Finally, Allan turned back to Pat. “I know this may be hard for you to understand, but I want you to know that little boy sleeping in the next room is also important to me. Strange as it may sound, I've grown to love him. I believe, given some time, you could learn to love him as well."
Allan felt Pat stiffen as she pulled her hands away. “All I'm asking is for you to give it time,” Allan hated the pleading tone creeping into his voice. “Give TJ and me time. Will you do that?"
Pat turned and stared out the picture glass window to the winter scape. Finally, with a broad sigh, she turned back to Allan. "I know when you look at TJ, you see a young boy that reminds you of your deceased son. Somehow you've taken the leap and convinced yourself that's who he is, but when I look at him, I'm reminded of an alien that almost killed me on two different occasions. I don't see a young, innocent boy. I see a threat to this planet and to humanity. I know, Allan, that you care for him, but I don’t think I will ever be able to see him as anything other than what he is."
"I understand," Allan finally replied, “but for me and for the future we could share together, would you be willing to try?"
Pat stared at her hands in her lap. She reached for the pint of Kahlúa and poured several ounces of the liqueur into her coffee mug before taking a couple deep swallows.
"I don't know how to answer that question. I'll need at least a day or two to think it over. In the meantime, I need to get drunk. Do you have anything stronger in the house?"
Suds and Duds
James Stepp walked into the Suds and Duds for the first time in over four years. The unlikely combination pub and laundromat had been a favorite hangout of his when it first opened. Everyone had predicted it would never make it, especially in a town as small as Black Mountain, but it had turned out to be surprisingly successful. Now, James was returning to his old digs for a drink as a way of acknowledging the dramatic changes that had taken place over the past four years.
As James ordered a Jack and Ginger from a bartender he didn’t recognize, he reflected on the last time he’d been in the bar just before his life had performed a triple somersault off the high dive. He had become a regular at the Suds and Duds so he could tell his wife, Jenny, he was helping out at home by doing the laundry. He figured it was the least he could do to help her out since she'd not been feeling well of late. It was also an excellent excuse to get out of the house and chill out at the bar and flirt with Marjorie, the barkeep. He prayed Jenny wouldn't ask him about the washer and dryer in their basement. If she did, he would have to explain to her that both appliances had been broken for months, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
He picked up his beer and downed half of it before swiveling around in his seat to stare at Marjorie waiting on another regular at the other end. He figured Marjorie to be between forty-five and fifty. Despite spending most of her time managing the two businesses, she somehow kept herself in shape. Besides, James had a strange attraction for women who wore their long hair in a ponytail. That's what had attracted him to Jenny more years ago than he liked to admit; that along with her killer body and sexy, Southern accent. But his wife seldom wore her hair in a ponytail these days, and her body had gone from sexy to Rubenesque to pudgy. Still, late at night with the lights off, her Southern drawl could still excite him.
I really don't need to be ogling other women, James thought as he took another gulp of his beer. After all, he was a married man with a two-year-old daughter and a second one on the way. Still, it was hard not to look, especially when you were married to a woman who was always too tired to pay attention to him and was rapidly growing into a… Best not to finish that thought, James told himself as he caught Marjorie’s attention and motioned for another beer.
“Here you go, suugarrr,” Marjorie said as she set a fresh beer in front of him. “You look kind of down tonight. What's up?"
“Oh, nothing," James replied, pushing the empty mug towards her and picking up the fresh one. "It's just that I’m, well…bored. I mean, I know I'm not a big city sort of a guy. I’ve spent most of my life in small towns because that's what I prefer, but sometimes I’d like something interesting to happen."
“Tell me about it, sweetie,” Marjorie replied as she wiped the bar with a moist towel. “But remember, be careful what you ask for. You might find that boredom is better than the alternative."
“Yeah, you’re probably right," James said as he rubbed the frost off the side of his mug.
As Marjorie went to wait on another customer, James continued to sit at the bar and reflect upon his life. He hadn't realized until that evening just how bored he'd become. His heating and air conditioning business barely paid the bills, and even in the busy season, it bored him. Funny thing, the happiest he could remember being was when he was in the service, especially while overseas fighting for liberty, justice, and the American way. There was something about an army of other soldiers trying to kill you in oh so many different ways that brought a certain freshness and edge to life.
Then there was the thrill and exhilaration he experienced flying. He relished the feel of landing a group of soldiers in a hot war zone, the yelling of the men, the sound of gunfire and explosions all around him and knowing it was fate, not skill, that kept him alive. Man, what a rush. God, he missed that. Oh, he took the occasional trip out to the local airfield, and that helped, but flying a Cessna 172 was hardly the same as flying a Black Hawk or even a Huey, especially while soldiers on the ground were trying to knock you out of the sky.
Yep, his life had grown pretty dull in the last few years, but what could he do about it? There were those occasional calls he'd receive from an old Army buddy or two who had leveraged their training as Green Berets into lucrative careers as soldiers of fortune, but each time he had been contacted, he begged off. That was hardly the life for a married man with children.
What was that Marjorie had just said? “Be careful what you ask for. You might find what you have is better than the alternative,” or something like that. Maybe she's right, James thought. Maybe I should be satisfied with what I've got.
James finished off the Jack and Ginger and caught the eye of the bartender to order another one. Funny how one’s perspective on life often changed over time. Boredom looked pretty attractive these days.
Bona Fide Genius
1
TJ sat in the middle of the great room of Allan's ranch style log home. Besides his bedroom, it was TJ's favorite part of the house, not only because it was the warmest location, but also because of the large window that provided a panoramic view of the outdoors with its mix of evergreens, hardwood trees, and thick underbrush. That's where TJ really wanted to be, but Kendra and he had already taken a long walk through the newly fallen snow. Kendra had finally insisted they return home so she could fix them both some hot chocolate.
TJ sat cross-legged on the rug, surrounded by walls of multi-colored Legos behind which he hid an army of toy soldiers. He pretended to play, but as soon as Kendra walked into the kitchen to fix the hot chocolate, he scampered up. He ran into the spare bedroom Allan had recently converted into a home office. There, sitting on the desk, was the toy TJ really wanted to play with. His dad had called it an iMac computer and had brought it home from work. None of that made much sense to TJ, who was far more fascinated by the beautiful pictures that magically appeared on the computer screen whenever the computer was left alone for several minutes.
After watching the pictures rotate for a minute or two, TJ climbed onto Allan’s office chair to get a better look. He knew he might get in trouble for messing with the computer, but he just couldn’t resist. He soon discovered he could just reach the flat plastic slab and smaller object that sat in front of the screen. He’d seen his dad playing with those and knew they were somehow connected to the rest of the iMac. It didn’t take long for his youthful curiosity to get the better of him. He reached out and grasped
the small, rounded object as he’d seen Allan do. Immediately, the pictures disappeared.
Next, TJ discovered the small object in his right hand controlled a small arrow that glided across the screen. He played with the arrow for a couple of minutes, pretending it was a bird under his command. This led him to the pretty pictures that popped up at the bottom of the screen when he directed the arrow in that direction. He continued to experiment, this time with the button on top of the object in his hand. His next significant breakthrough came when he discovered that if he quickly clicked the button twice while the arrow hovered over one of the small images, much like he'd noticed Allan had done, larger pictures appeared.
He was concentrating on the new pictures so intently that he never noticed when Kendra walked into the room carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and a large bowl of Cheerios.
“There you are, you little rascal,” she said. “I was looking all over the place for you. Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
TJ shook his head without taking his eyes off the screen. ‘Uh-uh,” he mumbled. He twisted his tongue between his lips as he concentrated on his efforts.
“Oh my, you mustn’t play with Dr. Allan’s computer,” she said as she placed the tray on the desk and pulled the chair TJ was sitting on away so he could no longer reach the machine. “He’d kill me if anything were to happen to it.”
She pulled the chair closer to the desk to make it easier for TJ to reach the bowl of Cheerios. “Now you have to promise not to snitch on me to Dr. Allan about what you’re having for lunch. Okay?”
“Snitch?” TJ asked as he took a handful of his favorite food and popped one of the tasty morsels in his mouth.
“Yeah, you know. Tell on me,” Kendra replied, taking several of the Cheerios and plopping them into her cup where they floated like small life preservers in a sea of creamy chocolate.
After a couple of minutes, Kendra glanced over at the computer screen, then stared at it more intently. "What the…"
She turned to TJ. “Did you do that?” she asked, pointing to the picture TJ had drawn. It was a beautiful rendition of the view outside the great room’s window.
Her tone frightened TJ at first. He shook his head and was about to deny he’d had any part in it, but then remembered his dad’s lengthy talk at dinner a night or two ago about the importance of being honest. He changed his head shake into a nod.
“I didn’t hurt anything.”
“No, dear, I’m sure you didn’t,” Kendra said as she reached out and caressed his cheek. “It’s very pretty. Let’s save it so we can show your father.”
TJ watched as she touched several areas of the plastic slab.
“You know how to use the…the…”
“It’s called a computer, and yes, we have several of them at school, but I’m still learning. Maybe we can learn how to use it together. Would you like that?”
“Sure,” TJ said, smiling broadly. Anything would be better than playing with those dumb blocks.
2
Later in the afternoon, Kendra sat TJ in front of the TV and inserted a DVD into the player. “How about watching The Lion King for a bit while I make a call?”
“Okay,” TJ agreed. He found the movie a bit simple, but he liked how it ended. Besides, he often had more fun listening in on other people’s conversations while they thought he was either sleeping or watching television.
After the movie had started, Kendra walked over to her purse and pulled out her cell phone, then returned to the couch where she curled up with one of the comforters before placing her call.
TJ twisted around on the floor so he could see the television and also keep one eye on Kendra. It felt good to be home where it was warm and dry and where there was an unlimited supply of Cheerios. He especially liked Kendra, who he thought of as part of his family, or at least a very close friend; a bit like Timon and Pumbaa. No, that wasn’t exactly true. He knew his dad expected him to pay attention to Kendra and do what she asked. Maybe she was more like Sarabi, Simba’s mother, but that didn’t feel right either. I don’t have a mother, at least not like Simba.
While Kendra was the one who primarily took care of him, Pat was the person closest to his dad, but no way could she be his mother. She didn’t even like him. He’d overheard several heated conversations over the past few days. While he hadn’t been able to make out all the words, he’d gotten the gist of them all. On top of that, hadn’t she been the one who’d killed Homlin, his almost dad? Relationships were a most confusing part of life, but one thing was certain. Pat was no friend. To him, it felt like she was more like Scar than anyone else in the movie.
“Hello, Mimi? This is Kendra. Gotta minute?” TJ turned his attention and thoughts away from the movie and over to Kendra’s phone conversation.
“I have some really great news. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but I think I’ll explode if I don’t tell someone, but you’ve got to promise not to tell another soul. Promise? Your hand on a stack of Bibles promise?”
“Okay, good. Remember I told you I’d had a babysitting job that had ended? Yeah, that’s the one. Well, it’s back on. Yeah, I know, the money's great but here’s the best part. Are you ready? My little boy…the one I’m sitting…he’s a genius.
“No, really; a bona fide genius.”
Rembrandt, Picasso, Van Gogh
1
When Allan returned home that evening from his veterinary clinic, Kendra pulled up the picture that TJ had created on the computer and showed it to him.
Allan stared at the picture for several seconds, then glanced first to Kendra and then through the doorway into the next room where TJ was once again pretending to play with his blocks and stuffed animals.
“You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?” he asked Kendra.
It seemed like a strange comment to TJ since he couldn’t imagine Kendra ever trying to pull his dad’s leg or any other part of him for that matter. Perhaps it had another meaning that he didn’t yet understand.
“No, promise, I’m not kidding you at all,” Kendra replied. Ahh, good, TJ thought. Pulling one’s leg means kidding someone. He’d be sure to remember that one.
“I left him right where he is now in the other room with his toys while I fixed lunch." TJ noticed that Kendra avoided revealing what they'd had for lunch. Apparently, she didn't want to snitch on herself.
“When I called him to eat, he didn't answer me, so I went to look for him. I found him in here, sitting in that chair. You'd evidently left the computer on this morning when you left for work. I'm guessing the screensaver caught his attention."
“How?”
TJ glanced up from stacking blocks to see his dad leaning over with his hands on the desk, staring intently at the computer screen.
“I don’t know exactly,” Kendra replied. “I wasn’t here while he did it, but well…” She paused as though having trouble coming up with the right words. “At first I thought maybe you had done it and he’d just found it…”
“But you knew I couldn’t draw something this beautiful,” Allan finished for her.
“I’ve seen you try to sketch things when you’re showing something to one of your clients. I know these iMacs are pretty neat, but…no, I was pretty sure you weren’t the artist.”
“Thanks a lot, but you're right," Allan said and chuckled. "There's no way I could have done this picture. Hell, I didn't even realize I had a graphics program on this thing."
“It appears that TJ is very smart,” Kendra replied. “Like maybe even a genius.”
Okay, TJ thought. Genius equals very smart. Yeah, that’s me, right? So why do you keep sticking me down here with these dumb blocks? He watched as Allan walked in and out of his view, pacing back and forth in the office.
“I think you’re right, Kendra,” Allan finally said. “I can’t wait to tell Pat tonight. Can you stay a little later in case she has questions? Join us for dinner?”
“Sure,” Kendra replied. “I’ll just n
eed to let my mom know. I’d love to see Pat’s face when you tell her.”
TJ wasn’t so sure Pat would be all that thrilled with the news.
2
The four of them sat around the table at the end of the meal. One lone piece of pizza lay on the pan, slowly turning into cardboard. Allan filled Pat's and his glass with Chianti while Kendra refreshed TJ's and her glass of grape juice. Allan had tried to create a celebratory mood all evening, but each time he tried, it fell flat. It didn't take a genius to know that something strange was going on between the two adults, and TJ was pretty sure he knew what it was—it was him. Pat tried to be cordial, but he'd noticed every time she glanced in his direction she'd quickly turn away and pick up her wine glass to take another swallow. He figured she'd easily finished over two-thirds of the bottle even though she'd only eaten one slice of pizza.
It appeared the wine was beginning to take effect as her eyelids drooped just a bit and the few times she’d attempted to join the conversation she’d slurred a couple of her words.
“I asked Kendra to stay for dinner tonight because we have something we wanted to share with you,” Allan said as he picked up his glass and tipped it in Pat’s direction. He opened the manila folder lying next to his plate and handed a copy of TJ’s picture to her.
“What’s this?” Pat asked after studying it for a moment.
“What does it look like?” Allan asked back.
“It looks like a computer-generated picture, a nicely rendered one." She glanced from Allan to Kendra and back to Allan. "Who did it?" she asked, then tried to answer her own question. "Musta been you, Kendra. I know Allan hasn't an artistic bone in his body."
“Ouch,” Allan said. “Truth hurts sometimes, but you’re right. I didn’t do it, but neither did Kendra.” He paused for dramatic effect.
Reborn Page 2
