Take 2 - Part 30
by Cadillac Red
Disclaimer: The characters of Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, et al belong to 1013 Productions and I and will make no money from their use.
Spoilers: Some references to X-files mythology episodes.
Setting: Sixth Season. Many details and characters come from previous stories I've written.
Rating: PG. Discipline, no slash.
Author's note: This series was inspired by Xanthe's story "Red" and is loosely related to an unfinished work by Mangst and Xanthe called "Reset". I appreciate their generous approval to go ahead with my version of the same scenario.
Summary: Fox hits another medical crisis, and a personal romantic crisis, all in the same day.
McClean, Virginia
The Safe House
7:10 p.m.
Walter Skinner sat back and ran a napkin over his mouth as he continued to listen. Fox had talked a blue streak through dinner, which was just fine with him. The boy had reached the age of 15 or perhaps a little more and everyone had warned him that there'd be moodiness and personality swings. Not to mention typical adolescent rebelliousness and a need to assert his independence and individuality.
And Fox had begun to display all of the above on occasion. But so far, they'd been mostly fleeting moments. Tonight, the kid reported that he'd done well on his chemistry and French tests, been moved up a level on the swimming team and was eagerly contemplating a school trip to New York City. And telling the A.D. about every small detail of his day.
Skinner surreptitiously glanced at the clock and then interrupted him. "Whoa," he said with a smile. "Quick question. Do you have any homework you need to do before bed?"
Fox was in the second week of his punishment tour and, theoretically, supposed to be in bed right after dinner. Most nights, that had worked but on a couple of evenings Skinner had relaxed the after dinner rule to let him get some more homework done. With swimming practice and meets most afternoons, the boy needed the additional leeway.
"No," Fox said truthfully. "I did it all in study hall today."
Skinner rose, taking his plate and coffee cup to the dishwasher. He recognized that homework for this kid was a fairly unnecessary detail anyway. Fox regained knowledge so quickly, and had such a phenomenal memory, he could easily get by without doing any. But the Assistant Director insisted, feeling it was another discipline the boy required. A commitment he should honor for the privilege of being able to attend the Wheatley Academy. And Fox was getting a lot from that experience.
Fox picked up his own plate and drained milk glass and followed Skinner to the dishwasher. He placed them in just as the phone rang. The adolescent rushed to answer it and Skinner smiled to himself, thinking it would be another call from Marie-Claire Montreaux. This had been a nightly ritual for the past several weeks.
So he was surprised when Fox answered and then said, "Hi, Cat." He had a Cheshire cat grin on his face when he said it, the A.D. noticed. The young man took the portable phone into the family room and Skinner let him have his privacy. The way the boy talked, he was confident he'd hear all about it soon enough. Skinner policed the kitchen and scanned the newspaper for a few minutes.
But a few minutes stretched into twenty and finally he took a walk to the entry to the family room and looked in. Fox noticed him and immediately spoke into the phone. "Well, I gotta go, Cat. I . . . have to do some stuff tonight."
He paused for a few seconds, then nodded his head, a shy smile returning to his face. "Okay. See you tomorrow." He hit the "off" button on the phone and put it down as he rose. "I know. Bedtime."
"I'll be up in a few minutes, kid," Skinner told him as he passed by. Fox had grown some in the past week or so but he was still as lanky as ever. More new clothes, the A.D. thought as he sat down and turned on the television to see what might be on while he killed a couple of minutes. He headed up to Fox's bedroom ten minutes later.
The boy was sitting on the bed in his pajamas, reading, when Skinner entered through the open door and he was startled by the man's arrival.
"What's got you so engrossed?" the A.D. asked, curiously.
"It's called 'Holes.' Mrs. Barefoot gave it to me," Fox told him, putting the book down. "It's about kids in a juvenile offender camp. And every day the warden makes them each dig a hole five feet deep and six feet wide as part of their punishment. Every day, all day long. And then they have to fill it in and dig one somewhere else the next day."
Skinner frowned. "Doesn't sound like anyone would learn anything from that."
"Exactly. It's just a useless waste of their time and they know it. I would never be able to stay in a place like that."
Skinner bit back a smile. It was telling that Fox cast himself in one of the juvenile offenders' roles. He opened his mouth to speak but the boy continued talking.
"At least, when I get punished, I always know what it is I'm supposed to be learning from it," he finished as he stood and prepared for his bedtime spanking. It was a nightly ritual that was part of a punishment tour in the Skinner family. They'd skipped only one night, last Saturday, when Fox had taken Marie-Claire to a school dance and they'd gotten home after midnight.
The man let the smile come now. He couldn't have helped it if he tried. "I'm glad you understand that, son," he said as he took a seat on the bottom of Fox's bed. The boy undid the snap on his pajama bottoms. He let them fall, and bent down, letting himself be pulled over Skinner's thighs. Turning serious, the A.D. pushed up his tee shirt so his bottom could receive a few good swats and asked him the relevant question. "Now, Fox, what is this spanking for?"
"To remind me I'm still being punished," he answered immediately. "Ow! And I'm being punished for running away. Ouchh! And lying to you. Owww! And um, for being disrespectful."
Skinner nodded and delivered another stinging smack to the boy's reddening cheeks. "And what about the hitchhiking?"
"Oh, yeah! Ahhh!" the young man gasped. "For not thinking about my safety! OHHHH! And doing something stupid and dangerous! OUCCHH!"
"What else, Fox?"
"F-for not telling you about that man! Ahhh! OUCHH! The one who said he knew me before!"
Skinner finished with several good smacks to right on the 'sit spot' to drive that point home. He and CGB Spender had argued violently about his making contact with the boy and the A.D. threatened to cut off all information about Fox's progress if it happened again. But he wanted to make certain Fox knew better than to keep a secret like that as well.
He let the boy slide off his lap and onto his own legs. Fox pulled his pajama bottoms up, sobbing quietly, then leaned into the man's chest for his hug. The Assistant Director embraced him and rubbed the back of his head soothingly, musing that the boy had this routine down to a science. It was another sign of his growing maturity.
He held Fox like that until the sniffling subsided and the kid seemed to be fading, then he rose and helped him into bed. Sitting back down on the edge of the mattress, Skinner ran his hand through the boy's damp hair and smiled at him again. "You okay?" he asked gently.
"Yeah," Fox nodded as a yawn spread across his face.
"Good. I think this punishment tour's over," the A.D. told him with a wink, receiving a look of surprised delight in return. "Let's consider it time off for good behavior."
"Thanks, Dad," the boy answered. "I was . . . wondering how it would be this weekend. With Uncle Joe and Mike coming to visit."
"Well, it's not exactly like they haven't heard of a punishment tour," Skinner laughed as he pulled the comforter up and tucked it in around the young man. "But it would put a damper on our weekend plans. And . . . you deserve a reprieve, Fox. You've earned it."
Fox's mouth twitched into a small smile. But Skinner could see there was something else on his mind. So he waited, knowing the boy would continue at his own pace.
"Dad?" he finally said, after chewing on his lower lip for a few seconds. "Would it be okay . . . if I took Cat to the movies on Friday? Jarrod's going out with her friend Delia and . . . well, he asked me if I would take Cat. 'Cause she . . . likes me, kinda. But I told him I might not be able to go. Only now . . . ."
Skinner listened to the convoluted narrative, understanding there were several layers of anxiety at work here. But first, he was curious about this girl named 'Cat.'
"Do I know her?" he asked Fox.
"I don't think you met her. But you've probably seen her at my swimming meets. She's got short blonde hair and she has a pierced belly button. She's really pretty. And she's almost 17."
Skinner's own eyebrows rose but he didn't immediately respond. (Cat and Fox! The old Mulder would never have considered it. And a navel ring?! Give me strength!)
"Well, let's talk tomorrow about your curfew, okay? And I'd like to meet . . . Cat before you go out with her," he said firmly.
Fox sighed and yawned once again, and his eyes began to close involuntarily. "You'll like her, Dad," he said softly, yawning through the statement. "She's got a cool tattoo of a raccoon on her thigh, too."
Skinner's mouth popped open but he refrained from saying anything further. Then he turned the light out on the nightstand.
The room was dimly lit from the hallway. He picked up the boy's jacket from where it had slipped off the desk chair and onto the carpet. It was a Wheatley Academy swimming team jacket and Fox was inordinately proud of it. Skinner went to the open closet and took out a hangar to put it away. On the top shelf of the closet he noticed that silly, long-eared rabbit Fox had loved when he was a toddler. It was sitting there, leaning over onto a shoe box and the A.D. found himself smiling at the thing as he hung the jacket.
When they'd packed up the apartment to move into the safe house, Skinner had put it in one of the boxes slated to go to charity. The contained a lot of clothes Fox had outgrown, a stroller they no longer needed, and toys that some other children could make use of. Somehow the rabbit had made its way from the charity boxes to the ones that were coming here with him and Fox. Skinner reached up and sat the stuffed toy upright before closing the closet door.
Fox was growing up so quickly, he wasn't certain what would come next. In some ways, he'd barely gotten used to little Marie-Claire. A girl named 'Cat,' with a navel ring and a tattoo, scared the hell out of him. But he knew he wouldn't have missed the opportunity to be here with the younger agent, through all of these changes, for anything in the world. He closed the bedroom door behind him as he left, taking one more moment to listen to the soft, rhythmic breathing that told him the boy was sound asleep.
The phone rang an hour later and Skinner grabbed it quickly, wondering if it would turn out to be someone named 'Cat.' He was surprised and happy to find it was Fiona.
"Hi yourself," he said, settling back in the easy chair in the room he used as an office.
"I wanted to see if you decided to let Fox go on the field trip to New York," she said. The school's older kids, age 16 and up, were all going for a three-day visit to the Big Apple over Columbus Day weekend. Museums, theater and sightseeing were on the agenda. Skinner hadn't been certain about allowing Fox to go along but his behavior over the past week and a half had changed the A.D.'s mind. And in another week and a half he'd be around sixteen, the way he was growing.
"I just signed the permission slip tonight," he laughed. "You've got that crystal ball fired up again, don't you?"
She laughed warmly in return. "Well, it's more that I was hoping you'd see it my way! This would be a chance for us to spend some time together . . . "
Skinner wondered whether he looked like Fox had earlier, when the call from 'Cat' came through. "Yes. I was thinking the same thing, Fiona," he said softly.
It was starting to seem like she really did read his mind. A quiet weekend, alone with Fiona was just the thing he needed right now. Perhaps they could take a ride into the mountains in Virginia. There was a bed and breakfast he knew where the scenery this time of year was breathtaking.
"I'm so glad to hear you say that," Fiona answered. "I'm looking forward to it, Walt. I think it'll be good for the boys to have you there, too. We usually only get class mothers to go along on these trips. . . "
Skinner blinked a moment before answering. It took that long to get his mind around to where Fiona had led him. A bus trip and a three-day weekend with 50 teenagers. (God help me!) Then he chuckled at himself and the bait and switch she'd pulled so effortlessly. "I never saw this sneaky side of you before, Fiona," he said, shaking his head.
She laughed too, appreciating his quick acceptance and the good humor with which he took the news. "There are lots of sides of me you haven't seen yet, Walter," and her words held the promise of opportunity to discover them all.
Friday night
1:55 a.m.
Fox opened the door to Skinner's bedroom and called softly from the hallway. "Dad?"
The A.D. jerked awake and half-sat up, leaning on his elbow and trying to determine what had woken him. Then he heard it again.
"Dad?" Fox said tentatively and he took a couple of steps into the dark room. "I . . . don't feel too good."
"C'mere," Skinner said as he swung his long legs out of bed and onto the floor. Fox approached him as he turned the light on the night table to its dimmest setting. The brightness blinded both of them for a few seconds but Skinner reached up and felt the boy's forehead. It was hot.
"Have you been sick?" the A.D. asked.
"No. But I feel like I'm gonna be," he answered. "I'm sweating but I f-feel c-cold, Dad."
The man rose, recognizing he needed to check the boy's temperature. "Get under the covers," he instructed Fox, ushering him into his big bed and covering him up. "Stay warm. I'll be right back.
He was back in a few minutes with a thermometer, a glass of warm ginger ale and a plastic bucket he put down next to the bed. The A.D. sat on the edge of the mattress and shook the thermometer down, then placed it in the boy's mouth. Fox's eyes were glassy and he was shivering despite the warm comforter he was buried beneath.
"Did you eat anything unusual tonight?" Skinner asked him. Fox had gone out to dinner with Jarrod and the two girls they took to the movies. Skinner heard from Fox that they had pizza but now he wondered if there was anything strange or potentially bad in the meal.
The boy shook his head. "Just pizza," he said, trying to get the words out around the glass object under his tongue. "With pepperoni and pineapple on it. And 7-up." He closed his eyes for a second. "And popcorn and Reese's Pieces at the movies. And a Coke. . . . And I had an ice cream cone on the way home. Rocky Road."
Skinner stared at him, trying to keep from laughing. The litany of things the kid had ingested tonight would make anyone sick. Which made it hard to determine whether he was sick from the menu, or whether this was the beginning of his next medical crisis. He removed the thermometer from Fox's mouth and took a look. "A hundred and one," he said. "Maybe some aspirin--"
Skinner stopped as Fox's eyes popped open and he turned an off-shade of green. "I'm gonna be s-sick. . . "
"Can you make it to the bathroom?" the man asked as he quickly stripped the covers off the boy. Fox nodded and the two of them ran for the bathroom off the master bedroom, just making it in time. Fox dropped to his knees and emptied the contents of his stomach as Skinner wet a washcloth with cool water. When the boy quit retching, the A.D. wiped his face for him and helped him back into the bedroom.
"Do you want to stay with me for a little while?" Skinner asked him as they walked. The kid nodded that he did and so he tucked him back into the king-size bed and had him take a sip of the ginger ale. He was reluctant to give him any aspirin while he was still ill so the man just made him comfortable, then turned the light out, circling the bed and getting in on the other side.
Fox was sick one more time during the night and slept fitfully the rest of the time. When Skinner rose at 7 a.m., he found the boy sleeping beside him was still warm but resting so he slipped out of the bed and started getting ready for Joe and Mike's arrival later in the morning. But first he checked the gun safe in the closet of the master bedroom. That's where the vials of medicine for Fox were stored.
He planned to wait for the boy to awaken, then see what his remaining symptoms might be. If need be, he'd call the pediatrician and ask for advice. And if it turned out to be another incident as a result of his rapid growth, he'd give him the next injection today. He'd grown another inch and a half in the past week or so. Even more rapid growth was always one sign of an impending medical crisis. Skinner brewed coffee and gave the situation some thought.
Fox had come home the night before excited about his 'date' with Cat. She turned out to be Cathleen Halsey, a rather sophisticated and worldly 17-year-old from Los Angeles. According to Fiona, she was smart, perhaps a little too smart, but didn't represent any danger. But she was clearly a lot more experienced than Fox was at this point.
Fiona had pointed out that, in fact, Fox was one of the more sheltered kids in the school, because Skinner kept him on such a short rein. The Assistant Director wasn't particularly bothered by that assessment.
Fiona knew Cat's mother was on the staff of one of the Senators from California. "Rumor has it her main function is being the illustrious Senator's mistress," Fiona had sighed when she told him the story. "And from meeting with her several times, I think the rumor's probably true."
Skinner wasn't exactly thrilled by this information but when he met the girl, he didn't see any danger either. She was sophisticated for a 17-year-old, with a little more make-up and a little less clothing than he thought appropriate but Fox was smitten and Skinner knew any protest on his part would only drive him further in her direction.
He'd given Fox permission to take her out as long as he was home by 11:00. The boy had raced in at 11:01 so the A.D. considered his first date a total success. And the kid's chatter while he washed up and got ready for bed told the A.D. the opinion was mutual. "Cat asked me to go to the mall with her tomorrow," he said, "but I told her Mike and Uncle Joe were coming over so I'll be busy all weekend. So she said maybe we could go out again one night next week. . . " He added the last bit hopefully.
But Skinner wanted to disabuse him of that notion immediately. "Not on a school night," he said firmly. "Not unless it's here or her house, to study. And you know your curfew on school nights is 9 o'clock."
Fox had grimaced at that but nodded his understanding nevertheless. Then he'd gone to bed only to awaken a little while later feeling sick. So the A.D. was stumped. The signs of approaching complications were generally irritability and crankiness. But this time there'd been none of that. Was it because he was just sick? Or because as he got older the symptoms and his reaction to them might alter?
By 10 o'clock, Fox was still asleep and feverish and he'd begun to moan softly in his sleep. That was all it took to convince Skinner what this was about. He took out the next vial of medicine and prepped it. Fox woke when he came into the room and stared at him for a few seconds until the meaning of his presence sank in.
"Do you think it's time?" he asked anxiously. The look on his face told Skinner he didn't want to believe it was.
Skinner smiled at him. This was the first time the boy truly understood the situation and, as the need for the serum grew stronger, his memories of his previous life returned, too. It was tempting to wait a little longer and let Mulder emerge, even temporarily. But the pain and suffering the kid went through was not something he could willingly allow. "It's time, Fox. I've seen this before, you know. Roll over."
The boy swallowed fearfully and rolled onto his side. "I hate shots," he murmured as Skinner lowered his pajama bottoms just enough to expose the hip. He wiped the area with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball, then plunged the needle into the boy's skin. Fox's head was buried in the bedcovers, under a pillow, but he jumped when the cold alcohol touched his skin.
Skinner kept his amusement to himself. (Oh, brother!) The A.D. plunged the needle into Fox's hip cleanly and quickly , then rested a hand on his shoulder as soon as he was through to let him know it was over.
"It'll be okay now," the man said soothingly. He left the room to discard the hypodermic and when he returned, Fox was sleeping again. Skinner felt his forehead and it was already cool. He sighed in relief, then leaned down and kissed the boy on the forehead. He'd let him rest until Joe and Mike arrived around noon.
Once they were there, Mike lost no time getting Fox up and then the four of them had a hearty sandwich lunch of cold cuts and salads. Mike was a freshman at Joe's college now and he was playing on the football team as well. They'd played their second game of the season the night before.
"I'm not a starter," Mike added quickly. "No freshmen are starting this year. But I got some playing time in both of our first two games."
"He played well," Joe echoed, giving his son a proud smile. "But it's a good team this year. You'll have to stay in peak form to get any significant playing experience this year. I think we're going all the way!"
"We're going to New York next weekend," Fox interrupted excitedly. "On a school trip. But maybe the weekend after that we can go to Danville and see the team play. Is that okay, Dad?"
They made arrangements to do so, then Joe told them he wanted to do some research at the national archives. "For the book that won't go away," he smiled. He'd been working on something about World War II for several years now but it never seemed to get done.
"Well, I'd like to go to the office for a few hours," the A.D. responded immediately. "And we've got tickets for the Caps game at 7:30. So can you guys amuse yourselves for a few hours? Or would you rather come to the District with us?" He was reluctant to bring Fox to the FBI building now. No one who saw him could miss the fact this was a younger version of the absent Special Agent. But they could go with Joe. . .
"I'd rather not," Mike said grinning. "Been there. Done that. We could just hang around here, if that's okay. . . "
The two men left and the boys tossed a football around the backyard for a while, talking about the hockey game they'd see that night and, more importantly, the Redskins football game they'd see the next day. The phone rang a little while later and Fox ran to get it.
"Hi, Cat," he answered with a smile, then paused. "I'm just hanging out with my cousin . . . The mall? Well, I dunno. . . " He glanced at Mike and the older boy shrugged.
Mike checked his watch and saw their fathers would not return for at least three hours. "If you want to, I've got my Dad's car. They only took one into town."
"Okay, we could go for a little while," Fox answered, pleased as all get out. Not bothering to leave a note or call either of their fathers' cell phones, they got the car and headed to the mall where met up with Cat and the rest of the crowd in the food court. Fox proudly introduced her to Mike.
Cat had very short, bleached blonde hair, kohl-rimmed eyes and was wearing hip-hugger jeans and a short sweater that showed off her pierced belly button. She gave Mike a brilliant smile but then trained her attention back on Fox. "I'm so glad you could come," she breathed. "I would hate a whole weekend we didn't get to see each other."
Mike did everything he could to keep from rolling his eyes but Fox drank in every word. They all had a Coca-Cola then started to stroll through the mall. Jarrod Kelly and Dylan Kane were with the group, along with several girls who were friends of Cat's. They spent some time in the music store, then Mike saw a Foot Locker and remembered he needed a new pair of running shoes. He excused himself, promising to meet up with Fox at 4 o'clock in the food court where they'd first met his friends. They wanted to get home in plenty of time to go to the game that night.
But at 4:15 p.m., Mike was there, tapping his foot agitatedly. Fox was nowhere to be seen and neither were his friends. He got himself a bottle of cold water and sat down again, knowing it would be better to wait than to wander around looking for his younger cousin. He was a little anxious because they had not gotten permission from either of their fathers for this trip and now it was becoming likely the two men would be home before they were.
Finally, at 4:35, he spotted Fox coming down an escalator and went to meet him. Cat's arm was draped across his shoulders and he had an arm around her waist. "Oh, brother," Mike whispered to himself as he approached them. "You don't have the experience to handle her, kid!"
And he knew he was right the minute he saw Fox. The boy had a pained expression on his face that was hard to miss . . . and a brand new, gold earring in his right ear lobe.
"You got your ear pierced?" Mike exclaimed automatically, his eyebrows rising involuntarily.
"Yeah. Do you think . . . it looks okay?" Fox asked him, not wanting to give voice to the real question.
"I think it looks totally cool," Cat gushed beside him. "It was awesome how you just made up your mind and did it, right then and there!"
Mike suspected Fox hadn't 'made up his own mind' about that pierced ear but he let that one go. He knew the kid's real question was about what his Dad would say. And Mike suspected that would be a lot. And he realized with a sinking feeling that he was also probably in trouble at this point.
"We gotta go, Fox," he said quickly. "We have tickets for the hockey game tonight, remember?"
Fox nodded absent-mindedly but Cat grabbed his arm. "Don't go now," she whined plaintively. "We're all going to the arcade--"
"No, we gotta go, Fox," Mike interrupted, unwilling to let this get further out of hand. "Now!"
Fox nodded and started to walk after him. Cat grabbed his arm and gave him a kiss, surprising him with a great deal of tongue, Mike thought. He waited a few seconds, then spoke again as he started to jog for the exit. "Let's go, Fox."
On the drive home, Fox was silent and lost in his own thoughts. Mike knew what they had to be. "Did you ever ask your Dad about getting an earring?" he finally questioned the boy in the passenger seat.
"No. I never thought about it before," Fox answered truthfully. "It was just a . . . spur of the moment decision. . . ."
They pulled into the driveway of the house at 5:15 and saw Skinner's jeep already in the garage. The two boys made their way into the house and found the Skinner brothers sitting in the family room. They each had a beer and were watching a baseball game on television.
"You guys think you could have left a note?" Joe asked immediately. "Or called to say where you were going?" His voice was calm but Mike knew immediately he'd broken one rule about keeping people informed about his plans. And he knew Fox and Uncle Walter had to have a similar rule.
"Sorry, Dad," Mike answered immediately. "I remembered I needed new running shoes and we took a quick trip to the mall. We didn't think it would take this long . . . "
Skinner knew right away that Fox must have run into Cat at the mall. "Did you meet some of Fox's friends there?" he asked casually. Mike had come into the room and stood between the two men but Fox was hanging back in the doorway between the family room and the kitchen. In the shadows.
"Yeah. Jarrod and Dylan. Cat and Delia. . . ," Mike responded. "We just hung a while and . . . shopped. Had something to drink. . . ." His voice trailed off and he noticed Skinner was watching Fox carefully. (Oh, this is gonna be ugly!)
"Fox, come in here," the A.D. finally said, curious about what was going on with the boy. Fox started at the sound of his name but he walked into the family room, carefully keeping his right side to the wall away from the others. "What's the matter with you anyway? Got a crick in your neck or something?"
Fox gave Mike a look that begged for help but the older boy shrugged imperceptibly that he had no help to offer. Hanging his head, Fox took another step closer to his father.
Both Joe and Walter had seen the look that passed between the two boys and now both their 'father antennas' were up and twitching. Joe saw it first and his mouth opened wordlessly. Skinner saw his reaction and took a closer look at the boy in front of him. It took another couple of seconds but then he saw it, a sparkling gold ring hanging from the boy's newly pierced ear.
Skinner stared, stone-faced for a few more seconds, then he swallowed back his first response and spoke to the boy calmly. "Do you have anything you want to tell me, Fox?"
Fox's eyes filled with tears but he blinked them back. "Y-yeah. I guess. I, um, I got my . . . ear pierced today," he said very quietly.
"Yes, you did," Skinner affirmed. He sighed loudly. "Did we ever talk about this idea?"
"N-no."
"So you didn't think you needed permission, is that it?" Skinner's voice was low and calm but that worried the boy more than if he was yelling.
"I didn't th-think. . . " He stopped, then his rebellious streak asserted itself. "I wanted my ear pierced for a long time! But I knew you'd never let me do it!" he yelled, breaking the quiet tension in the room. "You never let me do anything!"
Mike's eyebrows rose at that lie. He knew Fox had never considered it before today. And he suspected it was all Cat's idea to begin with.
"Watch your mouth, young man," Skinner spoke to him sternly, letting his voice rise for effect. "You're already in enough trouble here--"
"For what? Putting a hole in my own ear? It's my body--"
"And until you're 21, I decide what you can and can't do with it," Skinner told him, rising from the sofa. Fox took two steps backward and held the rest of his remarks. "I suggest you get yourself upstairs right now, mister. Before I decide to show you who's boss, right here, in front of everyone!"
Fox's eyes filled with surprised alarm and he backed out of the room and fled up the stairs. Joe immediately turned to Mike, who'd been watching it all with growing trepidation.
"And where were you when he took a walk off the deep end, Michael?" Joe asked his son pointedly. "You're older and should know better . . . "
Skinner began to protest but Joe held up his hand. "I asked you a question, young man."
"Dad, I-- I went to the Foot Locker! I only left him alone for an hour or so. I didn't think he'd do something like . . . I would never have let him . . . Damn! I know! We would never have been at the stupid mall if I hadn't driven us over! Without permission! I'm s-sorry. . . ."
"I think you oughta go upstairs and wait for me, Michael Alexei," his father said firmly. Mike looked at Skinner and then back to his father. Then he quick-stepped out of the room and they could hear his feet on the wood staircase. Then the door to the guest room opened and closed behind him.
Joe and Walter looked at each other, expressionless, for about three seconds. Then they both dissolved into laughter that brought tears to their eyes.
"Oh, man, Walt," Joe said between gasps. "You should have seen the look on your face when you saw that earring!"
Skinner bit down on his lower lip, trying to keep from chuckling as he spoke. "And did you ever see anyone look less like they wanted their ear pierced? You should have seen him when I gave him the shot this morning. How the hell he got up the nerve to let someone punch a hole in his ear, I can't begin to guess!"
The two of them laughed themselves out for another minute or two, then the reality of the situation hit them. "I don't think Mike did anything that wrong, Joe," Skinner said firmly. "Taking the car to the mall without permission. You can't hold him responsible for what Fox did when he wasn't with him."
"I know," Joe agreed. "But he is the older one of the two. He bears some responsibility. And I don't like the idea of him taking himself and Fox off without even leaving a note, let alone asking if it was okay."
"I hear you. Just don't lay into him too hard. No one could have predicted Fox would do something like that," Skinner sighed. "And what am I gonna do about that earring?" He looked at his brother, hoping for some evidence of his greater experience being a parent.
"Well . . . I have a rule that Mike can't do anything 'permanent,' piercing, tattoos, whatever, until he's 21," Joe told him. "I hope by then common sense will prevail."
"I never even thought to raise it as an issue . . . " Skinner said quietly. "It never occurred to me he might do anything of the sort."
"Well, brother, you better think about it now. Head shaving, tattoos, body piercing, hair bleaching & dyeing. Any one or a combination of the above might occur," Joe told him as he rose.
"By the way, Joe," Skinner said rising to follow him upstairs. "You know the age of majority in this country is 18. After that, you have no jurisdiction as a parent."
"I know," his brother nodded with a smile. "But so far none of my kids has called me on that point of law. And I heard you fall back on '21' with Fox, if I'm not mistaken."
"Yeah," his brother chuckled. "I guess Dad's rules never go away, do they? And anyway, even to this day, I think I'd check with him if I suddenly wanted to get a tattoo. Or an earring, for God's sake!"
Joe entered the guest room and closed the door. Skinner went to Fox's room farther down the hall, opened the door and went in. The boy was sitting on the bed, back up against the headboard. The A.D. came to a stop halfway into the room. He jammed his heads into the pockets of his jeans and looked at Fox.
"So," he said. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Fox crossed his arms across his chest and shook his head.
Skinner reached over and pulled the desk chair away from the desk, turning it around and placing it in the center of the room. He sat down, continuing to stare at the boy. In less than a minute, Fox grew anxious and started to sweat.
"What?" he blurted out. "I know you didn't want me to get this earring. I-- I should have asked first. But you would have said no, wouldn't you?"
"I don't know what I would have said. I would certainly have talked about it with you. What made you want to get your ear pierced, Fox?"
The kid shook his head. He didn't want to explain because he didn't have a good reason for wanting it.
"It's going to be a problem when you're swimming. You can't remove an earring for the first couple of weeks, right? But your coach won't want you to have anything that creates drag . . . "
Fox's eyes lit with that new information. He hadn't considered it. And the lady at the store told him he couldn't remove the earring for three weeks or the hole would close up.
Now what?
"Um, I guess I-- I guess I didn't think about that."
"And are you gonna sit there and tell me you didn't think you and I should discuss something like this? Before you did it?"
Fox's eyes snapped to the door as the sound of a strapping worked its way down the hall. Mike was getting a reminder about his responsibilities, and the rules he was expected to follow. Skinner felt bad but he could see from the look on Fox's face, the boy felt a thousand times worse.
"Uncle Joe's . . . punishing Mike? Because of me?" he asked anxiously.
"Uncle Joe's punishing Mike for breaking a rule. And for his part in today's fiasco."
Tears sprang to the young man's eyes and Skinner could see all the rebellion go out of him. "I didn't mean . . . I never wanted Mike to get in trouble, Dad! Or me! I-- I never wanted this earring anyway! I just didn't want Cat to think I was to chicken to get it!"
Skinner nodded. It helped to hear this was not a driving ambition of the boy's, to have a pierced ear. He had been concerned that he'd missed a signal somewhere. "Okay. So what are we going to do about it?" he asked Fox.
"I don't know! I-- I don't think I can take it out. I'm . . . afraid it might hurt!"
Skinner bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. "Come here," he told the boy. Fox reluctantly got up from the bed and came to his side. "Let me take a look at it." He inspected the earring and saw it was a simple clasp. Fox tensed as he undid the clasp and slid the earring out. "There. That wasn't so bad. It'll take no more than a couple of days for the hole to close."
Fox bit down on his lower lip and nodded. He appeared relieved to have the thing out of his ear.
"Actually, I think the sore butt you're gonna get will take longer to go away than that hole," Skinner told him with a smile. He pointed to his lap and instructed Fox to give him his belt.
The boy sighed dramatically, then did as he was told. He unbuttoned his jeans and slid them and his briefs down to his knees. Then he let Skinner guide him over his lap, already sniffling in anticipation.
"What's this strapping for, Fox?" the A.D. asked him quietly.
"For getting my ear pierced! Without permission," he answered, trying not to speak too loudly or cry out. He hoped to keep Mike and Joe from knowing he was being punished.
Skinner recognized the boy's intent and knew it was a lost cause. He laid three more burning licks across the boy's upturned cheeks. "What else?"
"For um, for going to the mall! Ouchh! Without permission! And -- and for OWW! OUCH!! AHHH! For lying about wanting to get my ear pierced! I never-- OUCHH!! I NEVER WANTED A PIERCED EAR! OWWW! I'M SORRY, DAD! I'M SORRY!"
The A.D. knew he'd made his point, powerfully. So he laid one more stroke across the boy's red bottom and stopped, turning him upright and embracing him tightly. "Okay," he said, "it's okay now, son."
He let Fox cry out his remorse and regret until the boy was calm again Then he gave him one more reassuring squeeze and helped him readjust his clothing before sending him off to wash his face. Skinner headed back downstairs. He could hear someone in the hall bathroom and suspected it was Mike. As he thought, Joe was waiting for him in the kitchen.
"So, we're still all going to the Caps game tonight, aren't we?" his brother asked as soon as he entered.
"Yeah. It's a little late to get dinner first but we can eat at the game, if it's okay with you," the A.D. replied. "That is, if you think Mike is up for it."
"I think he'll do whatever he's told for the near future!" Joe chuckled. "And I would hate to disappoint either of them about the game tonight. Or tomorrow. They've both been punished enough."
Skinner nodded and gave his brother an evil grin. "Of course, those hard, plastic seats at the Cap Center will serve as a continuous reminder, if they haven't!"
End of Chapter 30