Several times during the couple of weeks since the showing, Kurt had noticed Don staring into the distance with a blank expression. Each time he asked, Don only shook his head, mumbled, "Nothing," and moved aimlessly away. He suspected the boy must be lonely for friends his own age, for as Don had come to regard him and Erik as family, his need for others became evident. Kurt was grateful for the proximity of the station, for the chief never mentioning the amount of time Don spent with the crew, nor the meals he took there. But with the exception of Tony, the interests and age span between Don and most of the crewmen remained a barrier.
As he scanned the local weekly paper, a small item caught his eye. 'How could I be so dense,' he thought. 'Don should be in school.' He glanced at his watch and left for the station to seek the chief's advice.
"I was a-wonderin' how long it would last. I know you've done everything you could fer the boy, and the crew have tried ..."
"I know, Chief, and I appreciate it deeply."
"But like I was a-goin' to say, you got to admit it's hard fer the boy to live this far away from things kids his age like. School will be good fer him and he ought ta finish. You think he's going to take the idea?"
"That's what worries me. He told me once that he didn't want to go back and he's still damn sensitive about the hook."
"Maybe gettin' aroun' a bunch of kids'll help. He's so old in some ways and sech a kid in others. I wish the school was big enough to offer some art classes so he'd have somethin' to interest him. Would make it easier iffin he gets contrary."
"So do I, but I'm going to insist that he go. It's not that he owes me anything, he doesn't, but he owes it to himself. You know how capable he is. Since he's been here, he's read a great deal and asked a lot of questions. I've taken care to make sure he understood the answers and I can help him with his work if he needs it."
"I'll be glad to help, iffin I can. Adams and a couple of men in the crew have had some college, too."
After dinner, Kurt called Don into the library, motioning for him to sit in the chair opposite. Seeing Kurt's serious expression, Don's smile faded. "Sir?"
"Don, don't you think you should consider finishing school?"
"No!"
The gray eyes hardened, seemed to look thru his eyes and into his mind, searching for answers. "Do you remember the day I picked you up? You were hungry and miserable, unable to find a job."
"Yes, sir."
"How many of the places you tried asked you about school?"
"Most of them, I guess."
"What did you tell them?"
"That I'd quit."
"Didn't you think that would count against you?"
Don paused reflectively. "I guess."
"It did, Don. Their immediate opinion of you was that you're a quitter, therefore you wouldn't be a reliable employee. You would probably have found something if you'd been a student on summer holiday. I've talked with the chief and we feel that you should finish high school at least. Wait." Kurt held up a hand as Don started to protest anew. "There's a school in the village and you can drive the Jeep. I know it's going to be tough after being out for a year or so, but you owe yourself this much."
"I don't want ..."
"Look. You've worked hard since you've been here, but you've also done pretty much as you've wanted and I'd have it no other way. But it's your future we're talking about now. I'm sorry it's come to this, Don, but if you wish to remain here with us you're going to have to accept some of the things I feel best for you, even though you may not agree at the time."
Don's head jerked up, a startled look on his face. "You mean I go to school or I get out?"
Kurt cringed at the harshness. "I don't mean it that way, Don. This is your home, but I care enough about you to want what's best for you."
Don's defensiveness crumbled. "I want to stay with you more than anything. This is the only home I ever had. I ... I guess I'll go if you want."
"I'm counting on you not to let me down."
With only two weeks before school opened, Kurt moved swiftly. After talking with the principal of the village school, he made application for a change of school districts. The location of the house and Don's handicap were the deciding points in his favor when the school board debated the request. He took Don for a conference with the principal and waited as the counselor administered placement tests. He was delighted with the results and the principal's suggestion that Don carry a course overload which would make it possible for him to graduate with those his own age if successful. Don's sensitivity over the missing hand remained Kurt's only concern.
Once Don drove away on the first day of classes, the house seemed deathly quiet, empty, particularly when Coastie wandered about uttering his plaintive cry. Kurt was finishing the last of his luncheon sandwich when the phone buzzed in short imperatives.
"Yes? ... Oh, Lord!" Kurt slammed the receiver down and dashed to the gate. Erik paused barely long enough for him to vault into the station Jeep before roaring off toward the village.
Don and a larger boy were sitting inside the principal's office. Don's eye was beginning to discolor, his shirt ripped. The larger boy held a handkerchief splotched with blood to his nose. One of his eyes was already black; his shirt hung in shreds. Don's head went down rather than face Kurt.
The principal's irritation was ill contained. "Really, Mr. Lawrence, fighting on the first day of school. I've never seen anyone as vicious as Don."
"Easy, man," warned Erik in a dangerously soft voice.
"I don't know what he might have done to Terry here if the coach hadn't broken it up."
"Don, come here." Kurt demanded.
He stood before them, eyes downcast.
"What happened?"
"He made a crack and I slugged him."
"What did he say?"
Don shook his head, remaining silent.
"He refused to tell me, Mr. Lawrence, nor would Terry."
"All right. I'll take him home if I may and we'll get this sorted out. I can promise that you'll have no further difficulties."
"I'm sorry I had to bother you, but I will not permit fighting. If there's any recurrence of this sort, I'll take disciplinary action."
"There won't be," Erik snapped.
"You go on to the house, Erik. I'll wait for Don to get his things."
Kurt and Erik pressed a sullen Don to tell them what had led to the fight. He remained obstinate and unresponsive until Erik's temper became evident. Finally Don said in a flat voice, "I'll tell the chief, but I ain't telling you."
Erik grabbed him by the arm and jerked him towards the door. "Come on, then."
The chief was waiting, pacing. "Go on in my office, son. Kurt, you and Erik get lost. When I want you, I'll find you."
The chief sank slowly into his chair and looked at the sulky figure before him. "What's this is all about?"
"I got in a fight at school."
"I already know that. Why?"
"Some shithead made a crack and I decked him." Don snarled.
"Why wouldn't you tell Kurt or Erik about it?"
"It was what he said."
"All right. Tell me."
"You've got to promise not to tell Kurt or Erik or I ain't telling you."
"If that's the way you want it. Go on."
"He called me a crippled bastard and ..." Don stopped, staring at the chief.
"Well?"
"Then he said I was living with a couple of queers so I was, too."
The chief's head dropped into hands. So far as he knew, no one outside the crew knew that Erik spent every free minute with Kurt and Don, yet he'd feared that some outsider seeing them all together might be of a mind to make such a judgement. He desperately tried to think of an answer.
"Damn it, Chief, what would you of done if somebody lied like that about the man who gave you the only home you ever had?" Don burst out.
"I 'spect I'd of done exactly what you done. I understand why you don't want Kurt or Erik to know, but this is got to be settled. Who was you fighting with?"
"Terry Tillett."
The chief nodded. "I know his father, know Terry, too. Look, let me talk to the principal and Terry's father. You care if I tell 'em how you come to be here?"
"Not if you want. I promised Kurt I'd go to school, but I ain't going to put up with that shit."
"I ain't asking you to, 'cause I don't think you done anything wrong under the circumstances. But you stay outen trouble; you hear me?"
"But ..."
"You fight again and I'm a-goin' to take a boat oar to your ass. Now get out of here and find those two. I want to see 'em."
"Don't tell 'em, Chief. You promised."
Don found Kurt and Erik in the galley drinking coffee, then wandered off.
"Youall get on in here. I know 'bout it now, and I want you to lay offen Don. He ain't at fault."
"But the principal said ..."
"I know what I'm saying, Kurt. The principal's new and he ain't from 'round here. He don't know folks here like I do."
"Did you find out what the boy said to Don?"
"I did and I ain't a-tellin' you. I'm gonna have a little talk with the principal myself and then I'm going to see Ed Tillett. I know Terry's got his own little gang at school. After I talk with 'em, I'll get back to you. You make Don go back to school tomorrow."
After school, Terry shuffled down the lane towards his house, scuffing the sandy path with a big toe. Laces tied together, his shoes were draped over his shoulder. No way he'd wear the things 'til winter iffen the school didn't make him. Sneaking into the house, cleaning up, and changing his torn shirt would help, but the black eye would be a sure giveaway. Not that his father would be more than mildly curious, he knew, but the derision of his friends was already apparent. He shook his head, damaged pride giving way to admiration. In spite of being small, the kid was strong and fast. Terry drew in a deep breath, wincing from a sharp pain in his stomach. That hook thing had hurt. He peered cautiously around the corner of the house and breathed a sigh of relief, the boat was out. He bathed, applied spirits of turpentine to his cuts and bruises, wincing at the sting, and then studied over the meal he fixed for himself. When his homework was completed, he fell into his bed, nursing his pains.
Once he had set the plan of the day for the station and seen things smoothly underway, the chief drove to the school. He spent some time with the principal, intimidating the small man with his commanding voice and weathered appearance. After leaving the school, he drove the station Jeep into an unpaved sandy lane on the sound side of the village and stopped by a small weather-beaten house. 'Why don't Ed fix the place up,' he wondered, 'he makes decent money fishing and shrimping. Oh, well, ain't none of my business.' He heaved his heavy frame out of the Jeep and walked past the house to the dock. As he expected, Tillett was cleaning up his boat.
"Ed."
Tillett straightened. "Joe."
"Need to talk to you."
"Ain't thet busy. What's on yer mind?" He pushed a wooden box towards the chief with his foot.
The chief seated himself and continued. "You seen that young'un of yours last night?"
"Nope. Didn't git in 'til this mornin' after he done left fer school. What about it?"
"He got beat in a fracas yesterday."
"Don' say."
"Do. Got beat by a one-armed kid 'bout half his size."
"I'll be damned. How come you in it?"
"I'll tell ye. I know Terry sort of spoils for a fight now and again, and I know he ain't happy 'bout this one, but it involves some friends of mine. He said somethin' 'bout 'em to Don which ain't true and Don ain't the type to let it pass, if you know what I mean." The chief smiled in satisfaction. "Don't make no difference to him Terry's bigger and got two arms to his one, er not."
"What were it Terry said?"
"Ain't a-goin' to tell you. You find out from Terry iffen you wanna know and make 'im tell it straight. That way, he can't say I lied 'bout it. Don't make no difference anyhow. Don's goin' to finish school or I'll whale hell outen 'im with an oar. Now, what we goin' to do 'bout it?"
"You figure Terry started it?"
"Know that smart mouth of his did."
"Who's this kid he was a-fightin' with?"
"Long story. Gimme a cup of that mud you call coffee."
The chief took the mug and settled back. "You remember old man Beaumont lived in the house near to the station?"
"You know I do. You was there most times I was. Enjoyed them ev'nings up there. Wish there'd been more of 'em. That old man could sure cook some mighty tasty vittles, talk to a body 'bout anythin', too. I always been sorry Terry weren't old enough to take up there. He could of learned a lot from that old man."
"Well, his nephew's living there now, and ..." Over the coffee the story came out. "Now you know why I'm in it, Ed," the chief concluded.
"Kind of like to meet this Lawrence feller, myself. Sounds a lot like his uncle."
"He is. You get that scamp of your'n and bring him to the station Friday after hours. We'll go over together. Kurt don't know it yet, but he's got a might o' cooking to do. Thanks fer yer time." He drained the mug and set it down. "I swear, yer coffee's worse'n that stuff at the station."
The chief felt pleased with himself as he drove away. On his way back to the station, he stopped at the house and told Kurt of the impending visit.
"I'll be happy to have them if you think it will help, but why dinner, Chief?"
"Ed used to come see your uncle once't in a while. Mentioned how good Paul could cook. Besides, it won't hurt nothin'. Ed's wife's passed on some years ago and his daughter got married and moved away. I know for a fact he ain't much of a cook, so I figured a good dinner ought to make things set better."
"What do you suggest?"
"Know for a fact he likes medium rare beef roast, with potatoes and a salad. He likes good bourbon, too. It's kind o' queer when you think about it, but he liked to hear Paul play that organ. Him and Terry is a-comin' to the station and we'll come over from there."
"Let's eat about six-thirty, then. That'll give us time for a couple of drinks."
Kurt had found the chief a shrewd judge of character and knew he acted only when certain of the outcome. He remained grateful that after that first evening he'd never again been subjected to that gimlet gaze, remembering the ferocity with which it had turned on Erik that same evening.
Don and Terry had carefully avoided each other at school. Now, as he turned into the lane leading to the house, Terry saw the mast of the boat and walked down the dock.
His father looked up from the net he was mending. "What happened to you?"
"Nothin'."
"Fer nothin', looks like you come out kinda poorly. Jes' don't stand there, help me get these here nets stowed."
Terry bent to help, slowed by the lingering pain. His father smiled to himself. "Who was you a-fightin' with?"
"New kid."
"You start it?"
Terry hesitated, knowing he couldn't get away with lying. In his mind he could feel the sting of his father's razor strop on his rear.
"Well?"
"I guess."
"You might as well tell me."
"It warn't nothin' much."
"That ain't so."
He looked at his father, suspicion growing. "You already know?"
He nodded. "Now I want to hear your side."
"Principal talk to you?"
"Joe told me."
"I might of knowed," Terry muttered. "Kid lives in that old house up by the station."
"So what's it got to do with your fightin' 'im?"
Terry bristled. "Give me a smart-assed answer when I ast 'im sumppen. I told 'im he'd better watch his mouth 'cause I didn't take nothin' offen no queer."
"How come you said somethin' like that?"
"I been by there a few times in the skiff. Ain't never seen nobody but the kid and a couple of men."
"Ain't none o' yer business fer as I can tell. Besides, there's just you and me livin' here," his father replied placidly.
Terry was shocked. "Hell, you're my pa."
"You sure one of 'em ain't his pa?"
Terry shook his head. "Both of 'em 's too young. I think one of 'em belongs at the station. You know, the one Joe said was sech a trouble maker."
"Well, you done wrong." He paused as his son cringed. "No, I ain't a-goin' to whup you, yer too old fer that. 'sides, I figure gettin' beat by a one-armed kid 'bout half your size ought to teach you somethin', but you're a-goin' to listen to me." Terry's unease grew. "Now, we're a-goin' up there fer dinner Friday night, and you're a-goin' to make up. I ain't got nothin' 'gainst you fightin' when you're right and you're forced to it, 'cause a man's got to stand up fer his rights, but I ain't a-goin' to stand fer you pickin' on kids littler than you, 'specially cripples. I know I ain't been able to give you much of a home since your maw died, but God knows I done tried to raise you true."
The next few days at school, Don noticed Terry looking at him from time to time with an expression he was unable to fathom. Friday, as he helped Kurt prepare dinner, he remained apprehensive, despite the chief's optimism.
Terry argued with his father, but his father was adamant. Though he liked the chief, Terry remained sullen when the chief handed him the key and asked him to open the gate. Once the chief switched off the engine of the Jeep, they could hear the organ and harpsichord in one of the concerti for two instruments that Kurt and Erik delighted in playing.
As the chief started to get out of the Jeep, Ed's hand stayed him. "Wait a minute, I wanna hear." They sat until the piece ended.
"Who was that a-playin' ?"
"Kurt was playing the harpsichord and Erik, the organ."
"He's the man you was tellin' me 'bout." He looked at his son. "When ya hear music like that, ya gotta respect them what make it."
Don opened the door in response to the chief's knock. The chief introduced him to Ed and walked on into the library. Terry and Don eyed each other warily.
"Hi."
Ed was talking to Kurt by the time the boys entered. "... had some mighty interestin' times up here when Paul was a-livin'. What be that youall were just a-playin'?"
"Little sonata by C.P.E. Bach. Let's get you a drink. Don, you and Terry get what you want."
"Come on, Terry." Don led the way into the kitchen.
"What's wrong with Mr. Lawrence?"
Instantly, Don went defensive. "Like what?"
"He limps."
"He lost a leg when he was in service."
"Gee, was he in the war?"
"No. He said it was some dumb-assed recruit he was training caused it."
"Terry, come 'ere, I want ya to hear this," his father called.
The music swelled around them. At the end, Erik added a flourish. Despite his show of disinterest, Terry was impressed. He pointed to the gallery. "What's all that?"
"Pipes for the organ." Remembering that math and physics were Terry's favorite subjects, Don added, "If you look at a full set of pipes, you can see it's logarithmetric."
"Why?"
"Remember Helmholtz' theory?"
"Oh, right. I fergot."
Don showed him the rest of the house. Outside, Terry asked, "What 'cha you do 'round here?"
"I keep the garden." Don replied with pride.
"I mean fer fun?"
"Swim, sail with Kurt and Erik, paint, whatever I want."
The kitchen fan wafted the odor of the roast to them. Terry sniffed hungrily. "Who cooks?"
"Kurt. Erik does, too, when he's here."
"Ain't he in the Guard?"
"Yeah, but he lives here when he's not on duty. He's great."
"When you come here? You weren't at school last year."
"I didn't come 'til about May.
"How come?"
"I came down here to get a job, but I couldn't because of my hand. Kurt gave me a job and let me stay. I don't have any folks."
"You don't remember your folks?"
Don shook his head. "I grew up in foster homes. Now I've got Kurt and Erik."
"That's kinda like having a couple of brothers, ain't it? All I got is pop and a sister who's married."
"Where's your mother?"
"She died a long time ago."
"Boys, dinner." Kurt called.
"You eat like this all the time?" Terry whispered during the meal.
"Sure. Kurt's a good cook."
"I'll say. I wish my old man could cook like this."
Ed leaned back in his chair and contentedly patted his stomach. "It's been many a day since I had a vittles like that."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. We'll have our coffee in the library."
"This is my job." Don began to clear and stack the dishes in the washer, while Terry watched with envy. "Hell, you don't even have to wash 'em. I do."
While they waited for the coffee maker to shut off, Terry asked, "What happened to your hand?"
"It got cut off when I was a baby."
"Oh." He reached out and touched the hook. "How's it work?"
"Want me to show you again?"
"Hell, no! I didn't even see it when you grabbed me. I ain't never seen nobody move so fast."
Don slipped out of his shirt and demonstrated how the harness around his shoulders opened the hook.
"It's not good as a hand, but I can do most anything I want with it."
Conversation and music filled the evening until Ed arose. "I guess we better be gettin' under way. I thank ya fer yer hospitality, Kurt. I hope I can oblige somehow."
"I think it's already been repaid," Kurt replied with a look at the boys.
At the door, Terry pulled Don to one side. "Look, I'm sorry, okay?" He held out his hand.
Terry's acceptance eased Don's transition back into school, but despite Kurt's insistence that he join in activities, Don returned directly from classes each afternoon, taking care of his chores and painting. Evenings, he spent studying with an intensity he had not thought possible.
After several weeks of school, Don dashed into the house one afternoon, yelling, "Kurt! Kurt!" He held out an envelope which Kurt opened.
Don rocked up and down on his toes. "All A's, and read the comments."
"Superb student despite an unusually heavy load. He taxes my imagination." One teacher had written.
"I'm proud of you, Don. I didn't think you would do so well for the first grading period after being out of school so long. You deserve a reward."
"How 'bout an apple pie? Can I go to the station and show Erik and the chief?"
"Of course. They'll be as happy as I."
Kurt searched out a recipe and set to work. The pies were cooling, filling the house with the heady scent of cinnamon, when Don returned, Erik with him. Don sniffed the air. "Smells good. What is it?"
"Something you said you wanted. I hope they're good."
Don rushed through his dinner and jumped up from the table. The pieces of pie he cut for Kurt and Erik were generous, but his own plate was piled with a double slice, covered in ice cream. "Ummm, good," he mumbled, cramming another forkfull in his mouth.
"Slow down. There's another pie out there, if you don't have it on your plate already."
Don looked up in time to see Erik scowl at Kurt. "Let him enjoy himself, why don't you? He deserves it."
Kurt burst out laughing. "Eat up, Don."
"Save me a piece," rumbled a voice.
"Have you eaten, Chief?"
"Finished a minute ago, but a cup of coffee and a piece of that pie would be mighty good."
When they were settled in the library with their coffee, the chief gave Erik a piercing look. "Ain't you fergot somethin'?"
"What?"
"That piece of paper on my desk."
Erik's hand covered his face, one eye peeped through spread fingers. "Oh, Lord, what have I done now?"
"Set yourself up to get sent away from here."
"I'm not goin' anywhere." Erik looked at the chief in sudden alarm. "You're not throwing me out for something, are you? What have I done?"
"You're leaving 'less Kurt's good enough to take you in as a boarder. Your tour's up next Wednesday."
"It can't be! I can't leave now. Not you and Kurt and Don. You are going to let me re-up, aren't you?" Worry creased his face.
The chief stroked his chin in thought. "Well now, I don't rightly know. Seems like the last time I looked at your record I couldn't find any good reason to keep ya. Fact is I should of got rid of ya a long time ago." The chief gave Don a covert wink. "You think I ought to let 'im stay in?"
"I don't know, sir. Kurt said he was incorrigible." Don replied.
"That's mighty serious coming from a man like Kurt. Mayhap I better think on this a mite more."
Perspiration beaded on Erik's brow. "I haven't been in trouble for near six months now, Chief, and I even got my rank back." He looked at Kurt. "Help me."
Kurt shook his head. "I remember you saying you couldn't wait to shake the sand of this place off your heels. Besides, I don't have bars on my shoulders anymore. The chief's your commanding officer. It's up to him."
"I thought you were my family!"
"Every family has its black sheep."
"Aw, come on, Kurt. That was before. You know I couldn't leave now." Erik's hands twisted in panic. "You will let me sign over, won't you chief? I've really tried this year."
"I guess maybe you've improved a little."
"Please, chief."
The chief laughed. "Sorry, Erik. I couldn't resist making ya sweat a little fer the hard times you used to give me. We need ya at the station, but more, I want ya there. You've turned into a man I'm proud to know. Iffin ya sign over, I'll make sure ya get to stick aroun' here fer the next three years."
Erik heaved a sigh of relief. "I'll be in your office first thing Monday morning."