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My Boy The Long Journey Home
My Boy He’s not my boy, but when his hand Is held in mine I understand The problems that he has to face; I glimpse his goal in life’s long race, And then a thrill akin to joy Sweeps over me--- He IS my boy. He’s not my boy, he has no dad; He’s just a lonely, little lad Who’ll have to battle all the way. And, in trust, if he will lay His hand in mine, I’ll count it joy To help that lad--- I call my boy.
“My
Boy” is a submission for CWP
2.5, Fathers, Heroes, and Leaders. “My
Boy” is the third and final story in The Journey Trilogy. In “At the Crossroads: A New
Journey Begins”, the Wheelers came to Autoville in hopes of adopting Jim
Frayne. Jim agreed, although it seemed he was a bit hesitant. In this story,
we journey to Sleepyside and see how Jim is adjusting to life as a Wheeler.
Will the transition be smooth, or will the demons from his past haunt? And
though The Cameo rarely gives
“hanky warnings” (fear of false advertising, you know), consider yourself
officially warned to grab a box of Kleenex as we continue our rough journey
home…
Early August, after “The Red Trailer
Mystery”… In what seemed like the blink
of an eye, Jim Frayne went from homeless orphan to son of a
multi-millionaire. And Jim was not at all sure which role he preferred. The ride home from Autoville
had been a bit awkward for him. Miss Trask asked Trixie to ride back to
Sleepyside in the station wagon hauling the Silver Swan with her so Jim could get acquainted with his new
parents. Jim knew the governess was trying to be thoughtful, but during the
long trip home, he wished the blonde chatterbox had ridden with the Wheelers
in the midnight-blue Cadillac. If she
had been there beside him, he knew he would have felt more at ease. Something
about Trixie always made him feel comfortable. He could tell the Wheelers were
making an effort to be friendly, but after a while, the conversation would
taper off to periods of strained silence. During those lulls, Jim looked to
his sister to begin the banter anew, expecting her to jump right in with a
steady stream of Honey-speak. Surprising to Jim, it appeared even she was a bit shy around the adults. When Matthew finally pulled up the driveway and parked the
sedan outside the two-story garage of the palatial estate, Jim had to pick
his jaw off the car’s floorboard. He knew the Wheelers were well-to-do, but
he had no idea how wealthy they
actually were. In his wildest imagination, he never could have imagined a
home like this. He leaned over to Honey and whispered, “This is your house?” Honey merely
giggled. “No, silly. This is our
house.” Jim’s neck reddened as he saw Matthew and Madeleine exchange amused
smiles. Though the backseat of the
Cadillac was very spacious, Jim felt a bit claustrophobic, so he eagerly
opened the door and stepped outside. He could not help but gawk as he took in
his surroundings. To view the entire estate, he had to turn around in a
circle and, even then, he knew the property passed beyond his range of
vision. Though he had seen the top of
Manor House peeking through the trees at Ten Acres, and at night from the
estate stables, Jim was not prepared for the grandeur that surrounded
him. The sprawling three-story mansion
sat proudly atop a western hill. The white exterior paint gleamed as though
it had been freshly applied that morning in anticipation of his arrival, and
each one of the house’s many windows sparkled in the sunlight like diamonds.
Broad stone steps led up to a wide veranda that wound all around the
home. Lofty white columns graced
either side of the steps, appearing to hold up the second-story balcony. Not only was the home majestic,
Jim found the surrounding land equally as impressive. The well-manicured lawn
was the perfect shade of green, and it was obvious that keeping the grounds
in pristine order was a full-time job. All the hedges and flowers were
methodically chosen, carefully arranged so that there would be a bloom of
color three seasons of the year. A huge blue spruce stood on one side of the
estate and a big oak on the other, their thick, tall trunks and widespread
branches proudly proclaiming their precedence to the dwellings. To his west, Jim saw the Manor
House Stable. Through the veil of night, he had not noticed how immaculate it
was. The exterior had been newly white-washed to match the house. Even though
the large structure was a barn, great care was taken with the landscaping.
Pink and red hollyhocks were planted all around the barn, their large, showy
flowers adding a soft touch to the roughly-hewn texture of the exterior
walls. Thick woodland surrounded the
property. Large hedges and vines separated the northern border between Manor
House and Crabapple Farm, a well-worn footpath visible amongst the thicket.
Directly to his east, Jim knew the charred remains of Ten Acres stood.
However, the woods were so dense that he could not clearly see any sign of
his uncle’s… no, his land. By the
stable, there was another trail leading into the forest. The woodsman in Jim
longed to saddle up Jupiter and go exploring down that path. The buildings were some of the
most beautiful Jim had ever seen; the landscaping was a work of art. But to
Jim, nothing was as tempting as the vast, thick forest; the woods would be
his sanctuary. As grand as the outside of the
estate was, it could not compare to the interior. Eager to show off the new
member of the family, Honey grabbed Jim by the hand and proudly marched him
inside. After introducing him to Celia, Cook, and the rest of the staff,
Honey gave him the grand tour. Jim joked that he would need a map to find his
way around, but there was a lot more than a mere ounce of truth to his
words. Matthew and Madeleine helped
him get settled that first night. They allowed him to choose his bedroom from
among the many empty ones on the second floor. Truthfully, none appealed to
Jim; he thought they felt like cold mausoleums. He preferred small, cozy
rooms like the ones in the farmhouse at His new bedroom and bath was
almost as big as the entire apartment he and his mother had shared before she
married Jonesy. Jim had no idea why anyone would need this much space, but it
relieved him that the Wheelers were pleased with his choice. Their approval
was what really mattered. Though his adoptive parents had
done their best to put him at ease, Jim felt as though he were walking on
eggshells whenever they were around. He spent two uncomfortable hours with them
in the formal living room, discussing the pending adoption. Thankfully, Honey
was there with him; however, she did not say much, a fact that confused Jim
greatly. Madeleine, realizing Jim had
little more than the clothes on his back, made plans to take him shopping the
next day in The change of plans did not
bother Jim; frankly, he was relieved. Without his imposing guardians
in the house, Jim relaxed a bit. He found Miss Trask to be a good friend,
even if it was insulting having a “babysitter” after he had taken care of
himself for so long. Celia and Cook immediately began treating him as prince
of the manor, and although his new station unnerved him, he did not feel
pressured to please them, which helped put him at ease. In Regan, Jim
discovered a kindred spirit. Jim had met him briefly before his Before his arrival, the Manor
House staff had worried if Matthew was being foolhardy in adopting a strange
runaway. However, Jim quickly proved himself to them with his mature demeanor
and respectful attitude. The women especially, with their motherly instincts,
developed a soft spot for the determined boy. More often than he would have
preferred, Jim had his cheeks pinched and his hair ruffled. Honey happily adjusted to the
new family member. In fact, she told Jim often that she could not remember
what life was like without him. She quite cheerfully relinquished her role as
the “only child”, treating him as if he had been her older sibling since
birth. It was obvious that she idolized him and longed for his acceptance,
and Jim did not take that lightly. He fretted over her, doted upon her, and
teased her affectionately. He mastered the role of big brother just like he
accomplished all the other things he tried--- with great ease. An adoring sister, friends who
cared about him, a bed to sleep in, food in his stomach, a roof over his
head… These were all some of the benefits of his new life. However, although
Jim would never tell a living soul, his favorite thing about being adopted by
the Wheelers lived in a little white farmhouse down in the hollow. Each
morning when he awoke, her dimpled smile, tousled curls, and shining eyes
were the first things he thought about. And each night when he fell sleep,
his last thought was the he would never be worthy of her. But he vowed to try. Deep in his heart, Jim knew
that he never would have come back to Sleepyside had it not been for a
certain sandy-haired girl. Though he longed for a father figure, his fear of
being beaten like an unwanted mutt would have eventually grown too strong to
risk being adopted by Matthew Wheeler. But, his fear of never seeing Trixie
again was greater than his fear of abuse. He would gladly endure a beating
every morning, noon, and night if it meant spending even an hour that day
with the girl who had captured his broken, battered, frightened heart. It had been almost two weeks
since the Wheelers brought Jim home, but Jim had not spent much time with
them since. If he were to be brutally honest, he would have to say that that had not been a bad thing. The
time he had spent with them was
uncomfortable. According to the court system
of Part of him feared the adoption
would be stopped. Another part was terrified that
it would not. The solace he had experienced
while the Wheelers were in As soon as he was dismissed
from the table, he snuck off to the barn. Jim knew Regan had gone to buy feed
for the horses, so he hid in an empty stall until his stomach settled. Once
he felt better, he decided to go for a horseback ride. Though he preferred
Jupiter, he saddled Strawberry instead, worried
Matthew would be angry if he knew Jim was riding his horse. Jim’s conscience
burned, knowing he had already ridden the large black gelding without
Matthew’s permission. He wondered if he should admit that to his new
guardian, but he was afraid what would happen if he did. Matthew Wheeler’s
temper was infamous around Manor House, and after Jim’s experiences with
Jonesy, he knew how dangerous a big man could be when he was angry. After his ride, Jim felt
somewhat more relaxed. Once he properly groomed Strawberry, led him back to
his stall, and returned the riding equipment he had used to its proper spot
in the tack room, he decided it was time to go back to Manor House. As he
ambled up the path, a pang in his belly reminded him that he had not eaten
much at lunch. The further he walked, the
stronger that pang grew. By the time he slipped in through the main entrance,
his stomach was making horrible noises in hopes of being appeased. He bent
over to take off his boots, grimacing slightly as a loud growl came from the
general direction of his midsection. Too nervous to go to the kitchen in
search of food, Jim tiptoed up the long staircase to the sanctuary of his
bedroom, determined to wait until dinner. The second floor of Manor House
was deserted. Miss Trask had taken Honey and Trixie on an outing and would
not be back until later that afternoon. Although there was a sense of safety
in his room, there was not much to do besides think about how hungry he was.
He tried to read the book he had brought up from the library a few days ago.
However, no matter how interesting The Military Life of Hannibal, Father
of Strategy was, it did not take his mind off his empty stomach. Deciding
he was too hungry to read, he pulled out the old harmonica he had brought
with him from Finally, his stomach’s howls of
hunger grew so strong that Jim could no longer bear it. He remembered that
dinner was served late when Matthew and Madeleine were there, and knew he
would not be able to wait several hours to eat. He hesitantly crept out of
his room and down the steps in search of food. He slipped deftly through the
large double doors separating the foyer and formal living room, after first
checking that the room was unoccupied. While there, he peeked outside the
French doors and saw Madeleine sitting on a glider, being served tea by
Celia. Upon exiting the living room, he had to make his way down the long
hall, hoping no one would exit any of the adjacent rooms. Aware that footsteps echoed off
the marbled floors and reverberated throughout the entire mansion, he took
special care to pad softly. He wanted to make sure that he did not disturb
anyone with his presence, especially the man who was adopting him. Though it
was late afternoon, Jim feared Matthew was on the telephone with one of his
business associates. He treaded quietly through the long corridor, praying he
would not make too much noise. As he passed the big
grandfather clock in the hallway, it began to loudly chime as it did at the
top of every hour. Jim jumped at the sudden noise, expecting Matthew to be
standing over him, belt in hand, demanding to know what he was doing. Once
his pulse slowed to a normal speed, he continued the long trek to the
kitchen. When he slipped past the library, he stuck his head through the
doorway and noticed it was empty. The half bath next door was vacant as well.
However, the door to Matthew’s study was shut, and Jim thought he heard
movement inside the room. Holding his breath, Jim leaned
closer to the thick door. Just as the tip of his ear touched the wood, a loud
bellowing from the other side of the door made him jump. He was tempted to
quickly retrace his steps and return to the security of his bedroom, but
since he was so close to the kitchen, he forced himself to continue. He breathed a loud sigh of
relief when he finally reached the kitchen and found that it was empty. He saw a bowl of fruit on the counter and
hastily selected two apples. Deciding he may need a snack later that night,
he tucked both apples in the crook of his elbow and, with his free hand, grabbed
an orange. Securing his booty, he turned to leave and ran right smack dab
into Matthew Wheeler. With wide green eyes, he looked
up at the taller man. His heart began to thump loudly as he remembered what
Jonesy would do when he caught Jim sneaking food. His brain told him to run,
but his legs refused to cooperate. “Jim!” In slow motion, Jim watched
Matthew lift one arm, pull it back, and swing it towards him. Instinctively,
Jim cringed. He held his breath, and closed his eyes tightly, bracing his
body for the forthcoming blow. But instead of a slap, it was
merely an affectionate clap on the back. “Good to see you, son,” Matthew
said, smiling broadly. “I was hoping those footsteps I heard were yours.” Jim tried to lick his lips,
hoping that would help him speak, but his mouth was too dry to gather even
that bit of moisture. “I-I tried to be quiet…” Matthew threw back his red head
and chuckled heartily. “That’s how I knew it was you. Maddie always wears
high heels, even in the house, and I can hear her shoes clicking from a mile
away. Honey’s a bit quieter, but since she met that little Belden girl, she’s
been so excited that she can’t seem to walk anyplace anymore.” Once his laughter subsided,
Matthew shifted his gaze to Jim. “Ah, it looks like somebody is having a
snack.” Jim hoped Matthew could not
hear the loud gulping noise he made. “Uh… yeah…” “Mind if I join you?” Matthew
patted his firm stomach. “I should wait until dinner, but that’s a long way
off. Someday I’m going to chuck these formalities and eat my supper at a
reasonable hour. Maybe if we have something healthy it won’t do too much
damage.” He opened the huge steel-faced refrigerator and dug through the
fruit and vegetable bins. “Even though I don’t need the extra calories, a
growing boy like you does. I remember when I was your age; my mom couldn’t
keep enough food around. I ate her out of house and home.” Jim watched silently as Matthew
pulled out strawberries, pineapple chunks, and a container of fruit dip.
After he laid those on the counter, he disappeared back in the refrigerator,
resurfacing a moment later with a bag of cheese cubes and two cans of cola.
In no time, he had sliced a few apples and laid them out on a big platter
with the strawberries, pineapple chunks, and dip. On another plate, he dumped
some of the cheese cubes and added a sleeve of crackers that he had pulled
out of a cupboard. “Jim, why don’t you grab those
two Cokes while I get the fruit and cheese?” Jim reluctantly put his fruit
back in the bowl and obediently did as his guardian requested. He meekly
followed the older man out of the kitchen and into the luxurious study.
Matthew went to the sitting area of his office and set the trays down on the
table in front of the black leather sofa. He sat down on one end of the couch
and motioned for Jim to claim the other. Clenching his fists tightly so
Matthew could not see his hands shaking, Jim hesitantly lowered himself on
the opposite side of the couch. Although his stomach was growling, he did not
touch the food. Sensing Jim would not eat until
he did, Matthew gathered some of the fruit onto a
napkin and popped a strawberry into his mouth. After he chewed up the bite, he nodded to
the trays. “Pretty good stuff. Go ahead and get something, Jim.” Jim nervously leaned forward and
heaped some food onto a napkin, making sure not a single, solitary crumb
spilled onto the fine leather sofa. Although at first he was afraid he would
not be able to eat with Matthew there, hunger took over and he devoured
several helpings of the fruit, cheese, and crackers. The two munched quietly,
only murmuring occasionally about how something tasted. In no time at all,
the trays were empty. “Now, don’t tell your mother
that we had this little picnic in here,” Matthew teased with a wink. He
noticed Jim stiffen beside him when he called Madeleine Jim’s mother, and
decided to change the subject. “Is your room all right, Jim?” The young boy nodded, and then
answered the question in a polite tone. “Yes, sir. It’s very comfortable.
Thank you again for all you’ve done for me.” “It’s been our pleasure.”
Matthew smiled kindly. “Did you get all the clothes and shoes you need when
Miss Trask took you shopping?” “I got more than I needed,” Jim admitted with a guilty flush. “I tried
not to spend too much money, but…” Unwilling to place the blame on Miss Trask
and Honey, he left his sentence unfinished. However, Matthew did not look
angry. In fact, he looked amused. “But Honey and Miss Trask pressured you to
get more?” When it became obvious that Jim was not going to confirm nor deny
that statement, he continued. “Miss Trask had orders from Mrs. Wheeler to
make sure you purchased a certain amount of clothes. Honey probably didn’t
know that, but if I know her, she was just excited to play along. Don’t be
too angry with them for making you into their own Ken doll.” “Oh, I’m not mad at them,” Jim
amended, shaking his head slowly. “I was worried that you would be mad at me.” Matthew studied him with
surprise. “What makes you think I’d be angry?” Jim looked down at the floor.
“Those clothes were kind of expensive, and well…
Well, I… I didn’t know if you were… were keeping a log of all the money you
spent on me…” “What kind of man would do a thing like
that?” Matthew interrupted. “As your father, it’s my responsibility to feed
and clothe you.” He immediately noticed the way Jim squared his shoulders in
defiance when he said the words, “your father”. Instead of pushing further,
he chose to ignore it. “Jim, I assure you that both Mrs. Wheeler and I have
your best interest at heart.” Jim remained silent, but he
bobbed his head up and down to acknowledge what Matthew said. A frown marred Matthew’s brow
as he watched Jim’s shoulders sag. “I know this has all been a big change for
you, Jim,” he said gently. “If Mrs. Wheeler or I can help your adjustment in
any way, please feel free to speak to us.” “Yes, sir.” The reply was
polite, but it lacked confidence. “Are you making yourself at
home?” “Yes, Mr. Wheeler,” Jim
responded courteously. Trying to lighten the mood,
Matthew teased, “We’re glad you’re here, even though we really don’t have the
room for you. This place is so cramped.” Jim looked up, and a hint of a
smile wiggled at the corners of his lips. “I have to admit that even though I
have a good sense of direction, I’ve gotten lost a time or two.” Matthew chuckled. “I know what
you mean. When we first moved in, I got up in the middle of the night to get
a snack and couldn’t find my way back to the bedroom. I almost ended up in
bed with Miss Trask.” He was rewarded by a full smile from Jim. “I guess
you’ve explored the lake and the stable?” Jim’s green eyes brightened at
the mention of the stable. “Yes, sir, Mr. Wheeler. Well, the stable, at
least. I haven’t been to the lake yet. I’ve spent most of my free time at the
barn. You’ve got some nice horses, sir.” “Regan is very wise in choosing
mounts for the stable,” Matthew agreed with a nod. “Has he shown you where
the tack is? Honey mentioned in one of her letters that you were an
accomplished horseman.” “Yes, sir. Regan’s been swell.” “Feel free to ride all you
want. I’m sure Regan would appreciate the help exercising them.” “I went riding earlier today,
on Strawberry.” Jim wrung his hands nervously, trying to ignore his nagging
conscience. “Good, good,” Matthew murmured.
“Strawberry is a fine animal. A bit too docile for my taste, but still an
excellent horse.” Jim’s conscience seemed to
speak with his late father’s voice. All Win Frayne’s countless lectures on
the importance of honesty and integrity flitted through Jim’s mind at warp
speed. Finally, he decided any punishment Matthew could mete out would be
more endurable than failing his father. His real father. “Mr. Wheeler, sir?” He held his breath as the older man leveled
his eyes at him. Jim made sure to look Matthew right in the eye, just as Win
had taught him. “I hope you aren’t too angry, but I’ve also ridden your horse
Jupiter. I know I should’ve gotten your permission first. It was wrong of me,
and I hope you’ll accept my apology.”
He sat back and waited for the inevitable explosion of fury. But it never came. Instead, Matthew smiled in
admiration. “I appreciate your honesty, son. Regan had already told me that
you’d ridden Jupe. I was worried at first, for your
safety more than the horse’s, but Regan assured me that you were as fine a
rider as he’d ever seen. I trust his judgment; he’s always been truthful with
me.” Jim’s ginger brows rose in
surprise. “You mean you aren’t kicking me out, or sending me back to Jonesy?” “Of course not,” Matthew said,
his tone expressing his disbelief. “In fact, you’ve given me an idea. I’m
away a lot on business and Jupiter is not the sort of horse who’ll wait
patiently to be ridden. Regan has his hands full as it is, and you’d be doing
me a favor if you would exercise
the old boy for me.” “You’d let me ride Jupiter?”
Jim gasped. “Sure, I would. You’re my son
now.” Matthew carefully studied Jim’s pinched features. “How about we go out
to the stable later and you show me how you keep Jupe
in line?” “Okay,” Jim agreed. He felt
comfortable enough to give Matthew a crooked grin. “I think someday I could
manage him without a curb bit, after he gets to know me, that is.” “Did Win teach you to ride?”
Matthew asked. Jim nodded. “Dad had a big
black gelding, just like Jupiter. He taught me to ride Blackie bareback, with
nothing but a halter rope to guide him.” “No wonder you’re such a good
horseman,” Matthew said, his tone expressing how impressed he was. “What happened to Blackie?” Jim’s jaw set like a flint.
“Mom had to sell him after Dad died. We couldn’t take Blackie with us to the
apartment, and besides, we couldn’t afford to feed him or board him at a
stable.” “That’s a shame.” Matthew
paused, and then added, “But that settles something for me.” Jim glanced over at him, the
lines of his forehead creased in confusion. “I’ve been considering buying
another horse for myself, but I didn’t want to get rid of Jupiter,” Matthew
explained. “If you ride as well as your dad did, you and Jupe
will be a fine match. When I buy another horse for me, would you be willing
to claim him as your own?” Jim could hardly believe his
ears. He was so overcome with joy that he had difficulty speaking. “Well,
sure! Jupiter and me get along great!” “Then consider it a done deal,”
Matthew said, a wide smile on his face. “You and I will share Jupiter until I
find another horse. Until then, please ride him as often as you like.” Jim looked hard into his
guardian’s dark aquamarine eyes. “I don’t know how to thank you, Mr.
Wheeler.” “Well, you could start by
calling me something less formal than ‘Mr. Wheeler’,” he offered with a
chuckle. “Why don’t you call me ‘Matthew’, or ‘Matt’, if you prefer.” Jim nodded his head slowly. “I
could do that.” “Of course, Honey calls me ‘Dad’, and if you
call me ‘Matt’, it may get confusing when we’re out.” Though Matthew’s voice
was usually loud and booming, he lowered it to almost a whisper and suggested
kindly, “So why don’t you call me ‘Dad’?” Jim’s shoulders squared
defensively, his head lowered down. Through clenched teeth, he stated flatly,
“If that’s what you want me to do.” Matthew’s gaze softened as he
watched Jim. Not yet a man, not still a boy, the teenager had submitted to
his request although he clearly was not happy about it. The broken expression on Jim’s face broke
his heart. “What I want is for you to call me whatever you’re comfortable with. If you prefer ‘Matt’, or even ‘Mr.
Wheeler’, that’s fine with me. You had a fine father; I’ll be happy just
being your friend.” Jim lifted his eyes. If Matthew was not
mistaken, they were a bit misty. In a voice husky with emotion, the boy
answered, “Thank you, Mis… Thank you, Matt.” A few days later… Matthew had just
returned home from his office in Celia was
waiting in the foyer to take his briefcase. “Good evening, Mr. Wheeler. Shall
I take this to your study?” “That would be
fine, Celia. Is Jim around?” The pretty maid
nodded toward the staircase. “He’s upstairs, supposedly cleaning his room.” A giggle accompanied the sentence. “Supposedly?” Matthew repeated
curiously. “Did Mrs. Wheeler ask him to straighten his bedroom? I know
teenage boys aren’t the neatest creatures around. Perhaps you could sneak in
and help him.” “Jim’s room
isn’t messy, sir,” Celia corrected. “I said ‘supposedly’ because I don’t know
how it could get much cleaner. It’s neat as a pin in there, and I don’t have
to do a thing.” Matthew’s sandy
eyebrows narrowed into a deep crease. “You don’t say? That’s strange.” “His mother
must’ve taught him well,” Celia commented, smiling. “Yes,” Matthew
murmured thoughtfully. “Celia, I need to talk to him, but I’ll take him to my
study. I brought something home from the office that I need to show him.” “I’ll take your
briefcase in there right now, Mr. Wheeler,” Celia promised as she exited the
foyer. Matthew climbed
the winding staircase leading to the second floor. He was filled with
apprehension, although he was not sure why. It seemed to get worse as he
neared Jim’s bedroom. Shaking his head in disgust at himself, he knocked on
the door and heard a muffled, “Come in.” He opened the door and stepped
inside. However, Jim was nowhere to be seen. “Jim?” he
called. “In here!” The
reply came from the direction of the closet. A moment later, Jim’s freckled
face poked out of from the closet’s doorway. “Hey, Matt.” “Hey.” Matthew
smiled in relief. “What are you up to?” “Just getting my
closet in order.” Jim stepped out into the room, a wooden hanger in one hand
and a short-sleeved plaid shirt in the other. “Let me get this hung up and
I’ll be back out. You can have a seat, if you like.” He disappeared back
through the doorway. As he moved
through the room, Matthew looked around. The dresser by the door shined, as
though it had been recently polished. On the top, Jim’s christening cup sat
perfectly in the middle. Not only were the two twin beds made, their
coverlets were pulled taut, like the bedding on a soldier’s cot right before
inspection. The nightstand was just as shiny as the dresser. On the lower
shelf, Jim had placed Uncle James’ Family Bible, and on the top a lamp had
been centered. An old picture of his parents, which Jim had found in the
Bible and framed, was in one corner, and an alarm clock was in the opposite
one; both objects were placed so that they formed perfect right angles. Matthew reached
over and brushed his index finger along the top of the nightstand. Just as he
expected, his finger came back free from dust. A quick glance around the room
proved that there was not even a speck of lint on the carpet. Curious, he
stood and walked over to the closet just as Jim stepped out. “Finished?”
Matthew questioned. Jim nodded his
head eagerly. “Yes, sir. Did you need to speak with me?” “Just for a minute
or two. I’m sure it won’t take long.” Jim’s broad
shoulders sagged. “Did I do something wrong?” Matthew reached
out one hand to pat Jim’s back. Was it his imagination, or did the boy
flinch? He cleared his throat. “No, of course not, son. I just got some
information today that I wanted to share with you. Something to help build
your inheritance so you have enough to start your school someday.” “Oh.” Jim
visibly relaxed. “Do you want to talk here or in your study?” “The study would
be better,” Matthew answered. He shifted his gaze to the closet. “While I’m
thinking about it, Jim, did you pick up a suit in “Yeah, a blue
one.” Jim turned back to the closet, but stepped over to the side so that
there was room for Matthew to stand beside him. While Jim thumbed through the
section containing jackets, Matthew studied the rest of the clothes hanging
there. In the closet, there were two
long rods on which things were hung. Shirts and jackets went on the top rod,
pants and shorts on the bottom. The clothes were organized by type, and then
all similar types were organized by color. Short-sleeved shirts and shorts
were on the left side of the closet, and long-sleeved shirts and pants were
on the right. His shoes were placed neatly on a shelf above the top rod,
casual shoes on the left and dressy shoes on the right. Jim pulled out a protective
bag, and then handed it to Matthew. “What do you think?” Matthew unzipped the bag and inspected the
garment carefully. “This will be perfect,” he replied with a smile. He
thought he could feel Jim’s relief.
He placed the suit back in the closet, purposely hanging it in the wrong
spot. As he expected,
Jim immediately took it off the rod and re-hung it in its proper place. As
the pair began to walk out of the room, Jim stopped suddenly in front of his
bed. A frown on his face, he fastidiously smoothed out the wrinkles Matthew
had left behind when he had been sitting there.
A few days
later, Matthew arrived home early from work. He walked around, searching for
any sign of his family; however, they were nowhere to be found. Honey and Jim
were often outside or at the Beldens’ house, but if his wife went out, he
usually knew about it beforehand. “Maddie?” he called out loud.
“Are you here?” Celia scurried out of the hall,
feather duster in hand. “She’s on the veranda with the children, Mr.
Wheeler.” He looked out the living room’s
French doors, and sure enough, there sat his wife and Honey. “Thanks, Celia,”
he said, smiling. He went outside and stood by the
patio table where Madeleine and Honey were sitting. “Here are my favorite
girls,” he greeted, bending down to kiss Honey’s forehead. “Hi, Daddy!” Honey smiled up at
him, her wide hazel eyes sparkling happily. “Matthew,” Madeleine murmured
as she lifted her lips to receive his kiss. “You’re home early.” “My last meeting of the day was
cancelled,” he explained. He glanced all around the veranda for a glimpse of
his son. “Where’s Jim?” Madeleine smiled as she pointed
to the big oak tree in the yard. “Over there.” Matthew’s eyebrows knitted
together in puzzlement as he looked over and saw Jim propping a ladder
against the tree. “What on earth is he doing?” “Hanging a birdfeeder,” Honey
said with a giggle. “He made it today for Mother. Isn’t he just wonderful?” “Why, yes, he is.” Matthew
shifted his gaze to Madeleine, who was beaming. “What a thoughtful thing for
him to do.” “Jim knows I like to sit on the
veranda in the morning and watch the birds,” Madeleine told him. “After
breakfast, he was heading out to the preserve, and stopped to talk to me. We
chatted about the different birds that are native to this area; Jim’s so
knowledgeable about those sorts of things. He asked if we had a feeder that
he could hang, and when I told him we didn’t, he said he’d take care of it.
That afternoon, he found some wood and tools, and made me one.” “He made that himself?” Matthew
grinned proudly. “I remember that Win was skilled with his hands. He must’ve
taught Jim how to build things before he passed away.” “You should see it close up,”
Madeleine boasted. “Jim even carved little designs into the wood. The boy is
very talented.” “I told you that Jim knows something about everything,” Honey
insisted enthusiastically. “Why, I think he’s the smartest boy in the whole
wide world, and if you don’t believe me, just ask Trixie. She’s all the time
talking about how wonderful he is.” Madeleine snuck a glance at her
husband and winked at him. Matthew patted his daughter’s
hand affectionately. “Yes, you tried to tell us, sweetheart. I think you must
be the smartest girl in the whole
wide world.” “Daddy!” Honey tried to remain
serious as she pretended to scold her father; however, it was impossible not
to laugh. Just then, Jim shouted to them
from his spot by the tree. “How’s this?” “Perfect!” Madeleine called
back. “Perfectly perfect!” Honey
had to add. Once the birdfeeder was in
place, Jim climbed down the ladder and jogged over to his waiting family. He
grinned broadly when he saw Matthew there. “Hey, Matt!” “Hello, Jim,” Matthew
responded, matching Jim’s grin. “That’s some birdfeeder you made.” “Well, it would’ve been better
if I had a different type of wood,” Jim mumbled, embarrassed by the praise.
“I’m not happy with the grain on this poplar. Maybe I can pick up some
quality oak and make another one.” “I think it’s beautiful, dear,”
Madeleine assured him. She reached out and squeezed his arm. “You’re very
talented.” The boy’s cheeks turned almost
as red as his hair, but his green eyes sparkled with pleasure. “Thank you,
Mother.” He looked at Madeleine in an almost reverent manner, almost as if
she was so fragile that she would break if he touched her. The affectionate term was not
lost on Matthew. He could not help but wonder when his wife and Jim had
gotten so friendly; when Matthew had described Madeleine as Jim’s mother a
few weeks ago, Jim had reacted with hostility. Was it because I suggested it? he
wondered. Or does he just like Maddie
better? Although Matthew was reluctant to admit it, a twinge of jealousy
nipped at his heart. He had felt confident that Win’s boy would call him
“Dad” long before he referred to Madeleine as “Mother”. Chiding himself for
begrudging Jim’s affection for his own wife, Matthew focused his attention on
the boy. “I still need to put some
birdseed in it,” Jim was saying, “but I wanted to make sure that you could
see it from here.” Madeleine stood. “I think Regan
bought some seed to put in the birdhouses by the stable. I’ll go in the house
and call him. If he can spare some, I’ll walk down and get it. After snacking
on Cook’s delicious tea cakes, I need some exercise.” “Maybe Honey could go with
you,” Jim suggested thoughtfully. “Those bags of seed can be kind of heavy,
but I’m sure between the two of you, you could carry it.” “That’s a perfect idea,”
Madeleine said. “You might even say perfectly
perfect.” Honey giggled in delight as she
rose from her chair. “Mother, before you know it, you’ll even be saying ‘gleeps’!” Madeleine’s tinkling laugh made
her husband and son smile. “Honey dear, a lady of my station would not even
know how to use such a word.” “Well then, I’ll have to teach
you.” Honey seemed to hold her breath, waiting for her mother’s response. Madeleine looked tenderly at the
frail girl, running her slender fingers through Honey’s soft hair. “I can’t
think of a single person who would do a better job, or with whom I’d rather
spend time. Perhaps you can give me my first lesson on the way to the
stable.” She held out her hand to her daughter, which Honey eagerly clasped.
“Shall we go, my love?” Honey looked up at her mother,
her hazel eyes brimming with joyful tears. “We shall.” The pair walked down
the yard, merrily swinging their clasped hands between them. Matthew watched them go, and
then turned to Jim. “That was a nice thing you did, son.” “Aw, it was just a birdfeeder.
I like making stuff like that.” “I was talking about sending
Maddie and Honey off together,” Matthew corrected, his aquamarine eyes
twinkling. “Honey needs that time with her mother.” Jim nodded. “Yeah, Honey told
me how things used to be, but she and Mother have gotten a lot closer the
past few weeks.” “Yes, they have.” Once again,
the affectionate term referring to Madeleine stung his heart. Pushing his jealousy
away, he pointed to the birdfeeder. “Did Win teach you to build things like
that?” “Yeah,” Jim answered, smiling
sadly. “Dad could build anything, and he didn’t even use plans. He just knew
how things should be put together.” “Your father was a wise man,
even in college,” Matthew replied, remembering several of his friend’s
lectures. “He knew how to put together more than just a birdfeeder. He
certainly fixed my life a time or two.” Jim narrowed his eyes in
surprise. “You and Dad seemed so close. Why did you stop talking to each
other?” Matthew sighed loudly,
realizing he could never answer that question with complete honesty. Some
things Jim was better off not knowing. “I guess life got in the way,
Jim. I had just married Maddie and started Wheeler Enterprises when we got
your birth announcement from your parents. I think Maddie and I sent them a
congratulatory card, but that was the last time we corresponded. I was busy
trying to get my business off the ground and your dad was teaching as well as
working on a game preserve somewhere.” Matthew shook his head in
despair. “When you’re young, you think you have all the time in the world to
contact people and renew friendships. If I’d only known what was going to
happen, I guarantee I never would’ve lost touch. Losing my friendship with
Win has been one of my biggest regrets, especially now that he’s gone.” “I’m sure it was one of Dad’s
too,” Jim observed. Matthew looked hard at the
teenager. For one so young, Jim seemed to know so much. He’s wise beyond his years, just like his father, he thought. Probably even more so, since Jim has had
to grow up so quickly. He attempted to clear the
emotion from his voice. “Your father would be very proud of you, Jim. He
always dreamed of having a son to follow in his footsteps. I’m sure he’s
looking down on you from Heaven right now, smiling.” Jim lowered his head, shielding
his face from Matthew’s view. “Sometimes I worry that I won’t be the kind of
man Dad would want me to be.” Discreetly wiping a tear before
it fell down his cheek, Matthew put a gentle hand on Jim’s shoulder. “You
already are, son. You already are.” In a voice so quiet that
Matthew had to strain to hear it, Jim whispered, “Thank you… Matt.” On Saturdays, Matthew had begun
making an effort to stay home so he would be near his family. After
breakfast, he and Madeleine spent some quiet time in the library of Manor
House, reading together in companionable silence. He sat in one corner of the
comfortable sofa, his wife’s slippered feet resting
in his lap as she reclined on the opposite end. A sigh of contentment escaped
his lips as he counted his many blessings. A knock on the door interrupted
his pondering. “Come in,” he called, expecting one of his children or perhaps
even Celia to enter the room. Much to his surprise, Regan walked over to him,
nervously brushing his big, freckled hands against his dark blue jeans. “Hullo there, Mr. Wheeler,” the
groom greeted. He looked over at Madeleine and nodded his head to acknowledge
her presence. “Mrs. Wheeler.” “Good morning, Regan,”
Madeleine replied, sitting up in a more ladylike position. “Have you had
breakfast yet? Cook would be happy to fix you something.” “No, thank you, ma’am,” Regan
said politely. “I just came over to ask Mr. Wheeler a question, and then I’ll
get out of your hair.” Matthew smiled up at the young
man. “What do you need, Regan?” “Well, I hate to bother you on
a Saturday morning, but I thought today would be a good time to go look at
that horse I told you about. The chestnut gelding.” “Chestnut gelding?” Matthew
echoed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Oh, yes, Tim Hardway’s
Tennessee Walker. Starlight, wasn’t it?” Regan nodded his head. “Full
name ‘One Starlit Night’, sired by ‘Nightwalker’. That’s the one.” “Are you able to get away?”
Matthew questioned. “I thought you’d be too busy to go to “Well, Marge has the day off
and offered to take me since there’s nothing for me to do at the stable,”
Regan explained. “You know how I hate to drive.” Matthew chuckled, and slapped
his thigh in amusement. “Did I hear you just say that you didn’t have
anything to do at the stable? Why, last night you spent fifteen minutes
telling me all you had to do this morning.” “It was all finished this
morning when I got there,” Regan said with a shrug. “I watched the wrestling
matches late last night and didn’t head to the barn until ten. When I opened
the door, there was Jim, cleaning the tack. He must’ve gotten there at the
crack of dawn because he had already mucked the stalls, fed and watered the
horses, and exercised Jupiter.” “Jim did all that this
morning?” Matthew’s sandy brows met in a deep groove above the bridge of his
nose. “He sure did.” Regan chuckled.
“Why, that boy o’ yours is gonna work me out of a
job. I’ll be glad when he goes to school so I won’t feel guilty when I cash
my paycheck.” Madeleine lightly touched her
husband’s hand. “Matthew, how long would it take to do all those chores?” “Several hours,” Matthew
murmured. “Did you ask him for help, Regan?” “I sure didn’t!” Regan
retorted, showing his redheaded temper. “Why, I wouldn’t ask Jim to help and
then not show up till the work was done!” “I know that, Regan. Calm
down,” Matthew said in a soothing tone. “I’m just curious what possessed Jim
to get up so early and do that. I know he’s helpful, but that a lot of work
for one teenage boy to get done so quickly. I worry he’s taking too much on
himself.” His temper in check, Regan
nodded in agreement. “I’ve never seen a boy so anxious to please. I don’t
think he’ll hurt himself, though. He’s young and strong. But I can talk to
him if you want me to.” “No, I’ll take care of it,”
Matthew answered. “You go on and look at Starlight. If you think he’s worth
the money, make a deal with Hardway.” “Do you think we’ll need the
horse trailer?” Regan asked. “If so, we can take the Chevy I keep at the
stable. I’m not sure if Marge can handle that big doulie
or not…” Matthew shook his head. “Take
the station wagon so Marge can drive. I know how driving bothers you. If you
like the horse, we’ll pick him up next weekend in the trailer, and I’ll drive
the truck.” “All right then, Mr. Wheeler.”
Regan reached out to shake his hand. “I’ll call you if Mr. Hardway has any questions for you.” “That’ll be fine, Regan.” Just as
the groom turned to leave, Matthew held up a hand to stop him. “One more
thing. Has Gallagher arrived to do the yard work?” “Yes, sir,” Regan answered. “He
just pulled up the driveway in his truck. A riding lawnmower is on the
trailer hitched to the back.” “Can you please tell him to
leave the mower on the trailer? I’d prefer that he work in the shade and wait
until evening to cut the grass. It’s supposed to be a scorcher today and he’d
be wise to wait until it’s cooler to work out in the sun.” “Sure thing, Mr. Wheeler. I’m
sure you won’t get much argument out of Gallagher,” Regan commented. “If
there’s nothing else, I’ll see if Marge is ready to leave.” “Go ahead, Regan. Enjoy your
day off.” “Have a safe trip,” Madeleine
called as the groom exited the library. Once the door was shut, she slid
closer to her husband and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.
“Matthew, I didn’t want to say anything earlier, fearing I was overreacting,
but I’ve been worried about Jim the past several days. I know we shouldn’t
coddle him, but since Regan brought it up...”
She rubbed the temples of her
head, sighing wearily. “Maybe I’m just being silly.” “Tell me why you’re worried,”
Matthew pleaded, wondering if they were thinking the same thing. “All the work Jim does just
isn’t normal,” Madeleine began. “He should be fishing, swimming, riding… All
the things boys love to do during their summer vacations. But I’ve watched him the past few days, and
all he does is work.” Although he had been thinking
the same thing, Matthew decided to play devil’s advocate. “Hard work’s good
for a strong, young man like Jim. It helps build character.” “I agree,” Madeleine drawled out slowly, as
it she was reluctant to continue. “However, I think Jim’s obsession with
manual labor goes beyond ‘building character’. He comes across so confident
upon first glance, but I feel there’s something lingering underneath the
surface.” A strong feeling of dread swept
over Matthew. He tried to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat, but
it only seemed to grow. “Like what?” “I could be wrong, but I suspect that he’s
afraid we’ll send him away if he disappoints us,” Madeleine observed sadly. “I’ve thought the same thing,
but I hoped I was imagining things,” Matthew admitted. He took a deep breath,
massaging his forehead with his fingertips. “But if it’s just cleaning the
stable---” “It’s not.” Madeleine’s lips
pressed in a thin line. “Do you remember on the way home from Autoville when
I mentioned how beautiful the honeysuckle shrubs we saw were? Jim went out in
the woods a couple of days ago, dug up several, and brought them back to
plant. He spent all afternoon digging in this heat, right out in the sun.” “Haven’t there been heat
warnings on the news lately?” “Yes,” Madeleine said with a nod. “I tried
to tell Jim that, but he’s just as stubborn as you. He insisted he’d be all
right; he was used to working outside in weather even hotter than this.” Matthew’s brow wrinkled with
concern. “I know Win wouldn’t have worked the boy like that.” “What about Jones?” Madeleine
grimaced as she spoke Jim’s stepfather’s last name, as if the word tasted as
vile as the man himself acted. Her husband grunted, burying his head in his
hands. “There’s more. Remember when you complained about the deer getting in
the garden? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but somebody built a fence around
it yesterday.” “I thought Gallagher did that,”
Matthew murmured. Madeleine shook her head. “I
did too until I commented to the children about how glad I was that the
gardener had finally done something to keep the animals from eating all our
vegetables. Honey began to say something about how it wasn’t Gallagher, but
Jim quickly interrupted her and changed the subject. He looked a bit guilty,
so I suspect he did all the work while Gallagher was on break, flirting with
Celia. And who knows what else the boy has been doing. He’s outside all day,
as well as most of the evening.” Matthew sat up and leaned
against the back of the sofa, his face turned upward. “I had been hoping I
wouldn’t need to have a fatherly chat with Jim for quite some time, but I
can’t let this go on. First thing Monday, I’ll call Dr. Ferris and see if he
can recommend a therapist that could help Jim.” “Oh, Matthew,” Madeleine said
with a gasp. “Is that really necessary? You know what horrible experiences I
had with the psychiatrist I saw when I was drinking so badly. If he had
gotten to the root of my problems instead of plying me with sleeping pills,
maybe I wouldn’t have overdosed that night.”
“He needs help, Maddie!”
Matthew insisted firmly. “Then we’ll give it to him.” With a weary sigh, Madeleine wrapped her arms around her husband. “We’ll shower him with love and make him see he doesn’t need to be perfect to be loved. Matthew, this boy has done so much for our family… done so much for |
Author’s
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