Three  Chris led the social worker into the family room, his eyes dropping to the mat in front of the fireplace where he expected to see J.D. and Vin. The mat was empty, apart from some scraps of cardboard, canister of glue, scissors, elastic and a pillowcase. A few moments earlier, Chris had been working in the home office content in the knowledge Buck was cooking dinner and Vin and J.D. were playing quietly in front of the fire. When the doorbell had rung, he’d waited for Buck to respond, but it was left for him as usual. Alice Plimsol cast her disapproving gaze around the room but she smiled amiably. “You have a lovely home.” “Thank you.” “You understand the purpose of this visit?” she asked, the niceties obviously at an end. “Yes, I understand.” Two months earlier, Chris and Buck had been granted temporary custody of their special little boys. Miss Plimsol, J.D. and Vin’s caseworker, was making a ‘surprise’ inspection – evaluating Chris and Buck’s ability to look after the kids. Chris had been warned social services would turn up on the doorstop unannounced, but he hadn’t expected anyone so soon. Chris grimaced when he spotted discarded articles of clothing draped over the chair… piano stool… bench… carpet… He’d tidied the room only half an hour earlier. The efficient woman opened the folder she held and began jotting down some notes. It was clear she was looking for fault. “I feel it only fair to warn you we have grave concerns about traumatised children living with single foster parents… particularly single men who have dangerous jobs.” This wasn’t news to Chris. He and Buck had already fought numerous battles to keep the boys. “Personally, I don’t feel you and Agent Wilmington are the best guardians for J.D. and Vin, however, I’m willing to be proven wrong. These children need security, a family environment and more than anything else, they need your time and love. Do you feel you can provide that?” She lifted her attention and pinned Chris with an unspoken accusation. Chris stared at her. “Are you saying we can’t?” Something inside him snapped. “Lady, I was a father, but I lost my son in a fire. When Buck and I found Vin and J.D., they needed something better than being placed in care with people who have a lot of sympathy but don’t really understand them. I understand Vin and I assure you, Miss Plimsol, I’m more than qualified to raise a child.” Chris paused, reining in his temper. Since the death of his wife and child, the darkness in Chris’ soul had been a constant opponent. However, a little boy with huge blue eyes was waging war on it -- and incredibly, with the help of J.D. and Buck, Vin was winning. Vin. Immediately, Chris’ heart felt warm and the darkness faded. Chris hadn’t believed he’d be able to open up to a child again, but Vin hadn’t given him a choice. The moment their eyes had met, he’d felt a connection with Vin. It was the strangest feeling, like he knew the child… had always known him. Chris couldn’t explain the bond they shared, but he felt it to his core and he knew the seven year old did too. Chris drew in a deep breath eying Miss Plimsol. No one… NO ONE… was taking their boys away. Chris had lost his family once. He wouldn’t again. Of course, losing his temper wasn’t going to help. “All I’m asking is for the same chance you give anyone else. Don’t judge Buck and I based on what it says in your file. Vin and J.D. are special kids. Buck and I think being with us is the best thing for these particular children. Here is where they should be.” The woman held Chris’ gaze, clearly unconvinced. “As I said, I’m willing to be proven wrong. Has Vin spoken yet?” “Vin doesn’t say a lot, but he says enough,” Chris murmured. “He’s still got a long way to go. He opens up a bit more each day. He trusts me and adores Buck.” “Vin is the one I am most concerned about.” During her four interviews with the child, he’d never said a word, his young face wary. “I want to hear that little boy laugh.” Chris ran his hand through his hair. “Vin isn’t an effusive kid. J.D. is extroverted. Vin isn’t, but he’s happy here.” The woman returned to reading her file. Chris scanned the room, his stomach dropping. He wasn’t getting anywhere with Miss Plimsol and he had no idea where the boys were. He’d left them right here. Chris’ attention settled on J.D.’s trousers, which were dangling from the corner of the sofa. What the hell were they wearing -- considering most of their clothes appeared to be strewn about the furniture? Chris frowned. The house was unusually silent. “I need you to confirm the data I have. Then I’ll speak to the boys individually.” Chris nodded dismissively, his anxiety growing. He strode to the window to investigate the distant voices wafting from outside. Chris peered into the fading light. He blinked once… twice and then the corners of his lips rose. Miss Plimsol took out a pen. “You have two children living on the premises?” “Three.” The social worker looked up sharply. “Three?” Chris inclined his head. The woman joined him and followed Chris’ pointing finger as the voices outside became louder. “Which way did The Joker go, Robin?” A flourish of arm movements accompanied the question, the pillowcase pinned to his back flying out behind him as he ran in a circle examining the ground for tracks.A smile lit ‘Robin’s’ usually serious face as he swept his sandy hair from his eyes and offered quietly, “That way, Batman.” “Right. Let’s get after him. Converting to batplane.” S ound effects accompanied the rising arms to make wings. “Climb aboard the batplane, Robin.” ‘Batman’ hauled ‘Robin’ onto his back. “Batboy, you drive.”“YES!” t he smallest caped crusader cried jumping up and down with unbridled glee before ‘Batman’ swept him up onto his shoulders.Chris’ smile broadened as Buck shot off for the barn, unaware he had an audience. Buck Wilmington, aka, ‘Batman’ was a spectacle to behold -- underpants over his jeans, a pillowcase cape, a crude cardboard mask covering his eyes, J.D. on his shoulders and Vin clinging to his back hanging on for dear life, wide smiles beaming from all of them as Buck dashed hell for leather into the barn. Chris turned to the social worker. The woman’s hard features melted at the sight of Buck making an ass of himself, J.D. giggling uncontrollably, and an introverted little boy who never smiled, laughing in the security, happiness and love of his new family. Alice Plimsol closed her folder, shook Chris’ hand and declared, “I’ve seen all I need to, Mr. Larabee. J.D. and Vin are exactly where they need to be.” Relieved, Chris watched her depart, scanned the untidy room, shook his head in exasperation and returned to studying the caped trio who raced out of the barn and dived for cover behind the horse trough. Buck’s head popped up briefly before he launched himself into the air with a battle cry that would be heard in the next state. Chris smiled. “One adult and three very happy children live here.”
© March 2008 Aussie Lass. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to the owners of "The Magnificent Seven" and I thank them sincerely for turning a blind eye so I can borrow them. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while. |
