Redemption

Still embarrassed at the dog chasing him, Ricky behaved himself for most of the morning. Likewise, all of the kids were respectful to David. Everyone wanted to sit with him at lunch and play with him at recess. As he liked having friends, this suited Fall just fine. In light of this, he even tried to make friends with the bully at one point during recess. However, in approaching the subject of school with the burly boy, he found himself regretting his doing so.

“This is all stupid!” Ricky informed him in a slight scoff, “I don’t see why they make us come here!”

“So we can learn, and get good jobs when we grow up,” the smaller boy explained.

“Not me! My dad has friends in the union that will get me a job!”

“But, what if the union can’t get you a job?” Fall asked frankly, “Or what if you can get a better job without the union?”

“That’s stupid!”

“Why is it stupid?”

“It just is! And you are stupid for saying it!”

“You tried,” Click told him as they watched the bigger boy storm away. Shrugging at this, the sandy haired boy turned and went back to playing tag with Zak and Ewing.

“Alright, let’s put our books away for a moment,” Miss Thatcher announced after recess, “Because, I want to continue our talk that we had the other day about the miraculous technology of today and how it will shape our lives in the future.” Once everyone had cleared their desk (including Ricky, who moved purposefully slow,) she looked around, “Who would like to begin?” She chose Jenny from those who raised their hands.

“I was thinking that, where it would be nice to ride on a Hunley, or a dirigible, I would rather learn to pilot a flyer or a steam-car.”

“Why?” The teacher asked, openly curious.

“Because, it would help me in what I want to do when I grow up.”

“So, tell the class what you want to do when you grow up,” the teacher coaxed gently.

“I want to be an archeologist.”

“That’s dumb!” Ricky dismissed.

“Be quiet, Ricky,” the beautiful blond ordered gently. Then, looking at the tough brunette, she furthered, “And, how would that help you in archeology?”

“Well, if I could drive my own car, I could go out to a dig site on my own. Or, if it was hard to get to, I could get there with my flyer. That way, I could find things that nobody knew existed, and help people to better understand history.”

“That’s very-.” The blond began to approve.

“That’s dumb!” The bully insisted, “Girls can’t be archeologists! Girls are not allowed to drive steam-cars, or fly flyers! They can only be nurses, secretaries, teachers or wives!” Before the teacher could respond, the tough girl looked at him, her eyes ablaze with a secret awareness.

“You know what else girls do? They wear bloomers!” Although uncertain of this meant, Mabel knew all too well the meaning of what happened next: Casting his own warning glare at Greesome, Ewing smashed his right fist into his left palm. In response, the bully dropped his gaze.

“Ricky is such a pain neck!” Click’s voice decided in David’s mind.

“Very well, Ewing,” the teacher decided, attempting to defuse the situation, “As you want to be a writer, how do you think that these innovations will help you?”

“Well, for most part, the telephone will help me as it will enable me to talk to my agent or publisher from anywhere. But, also, I might want to write a story about a past civilization, so I could go with Jenny and take notes as she digs things up.” Pausing, he turned his head slightly towards Ricky, “Which, I would let take me there in her flyer, or her car. And, if anyone said that she could not, I would punch them in the nose.”

“Alright-alright!” The teacher laughed slightly, “Let’s calm this down, now!” Inside, however, she was wondering about the protectiveness that the big fellow showed over the tough brunette. Later, when she was at home, she would revisit this, adding to it the fact that they seemed to always be together. Finally, she would decide that there had to be something between them.

“What about you, Zak?”

“I would like to be the captain of a Hunley,” the small boy replied, “And, when I wasn’t defending the country, I would try to help find sunken ships.”

“That’s a noble idea,” Miss Thatcher allowed, “And you, Sam?”

“I was thinking of piloting a flyer to help rescue people who are trapped in high or remote places,” the shy boy revealed.

“Like mountains,” the teacher encouraged brightly.

“Or deserts!” Jenny approved excitedly.

“Slow Sam?” Greesome demanded in disbelief, “He’s so dumb that he would probably crash before-“

“Hey Ricky! There is a dog outside! He wants to talk to you!” Zak shot, bringing the rest of the class to laugh derisively. Seeing the bully’s momentarily taking on a frightened look, the pretty blond laughed slightly herself. This faded when the fat kid took on an angry glare.

“I’ll get you for that, Squirt!” Greesome promised through clenched teeth.

“No you won’t!” Prentice countered, preparing to leave his seat.

“Alright-alright-alright!” The teacher scolded, “Now, let’s calm down! Ricky, one more interruption out of you and you will sniff corner dust-with a sore bottom! And just so we are clear, you had better not hurt Zak, or I will suspend you! Got it?” With the boys dropping their combative posturing, she sat for a moment allowing her own anger to subside. Finally, she looked at the bully.

“Since you obviously have so much to say, Mr. Greesome, why don’t you tell us how you think such innovations will help you in your line of work?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

“Yi-dyoanoh!” Jenny mocked, earning a sudden look of disapproval from the blond.

“Come now, Ricky! Thatcher coaxed, “What line of work do you want to go into?”

“I don’t-,” the fat brat started, then, “The union.”

“What sort of union?”

“The union!” He shrugged as if it had been a ridiculous question.

“There are different kinds of unions,” Angelica explained gently, “There are unions for textile workers, or general labor, or-.”

“Just the union!” The boy snapped, “It doesn’t matter what kind-just the union! I want to be like my dad and help the working man stick it to the fat-cat businessmen and get a fair slice of the pie! I want to go out and form a picket line and bust scab’s heads when they try to cross it! I don’t care about flyers, or steam-cars, or any of that crap! I just want the hoy-paloy to start sharing the wealth! The rest of you slobs can go and dig in the ground, or work a machine-Not me! I’m going to make them give me what I want!”

“Wow!” Click’s image astounded. Looking up at Miss Thatcher, David could see that she stared at the bully, wearing a look of stunned disbelief. Sadly, he was not through.

“”Do any of you pukes know how silly and stupid you sound? Archeology? Ha! Who cares about the past? Protecting the country? Rescuing people? Don’t make me laugh! The only way for the working man to get ahead is to get into a union and make the man pay! Keep raising your demands until you bleed him dry! That’s how you get ahead!” For a moment, silence reigned over the classroom. Finally, the blond teacher recovered her composure and shifted slightly.

“That’s one way of looking at it,” she announced, “perhaps not the best, or most civilized, but it is a way of looking at it. In such, all that we can do is wish Ricky well in his attempts.” As she said this, Gruber raised his hand.

“Yes, Jerry?”

“I just wanted to say that I plan to own a business and, if I saw Ricky anywhere near my business, I would pack it up and move to another state.”

“You would!” Greesome snorted derisively.

“That will be all, Ricky,” Thatcher snapped, “Now, we gave you your say and Jerry is entitled to his.” Silently regretting starting the whole mess to begin with, as well as weary of dealing with the bully, she heaved a sigh. “Now, if everyone will please get out their math books and turn to page eighty-seven, let’s review yesterday’s homework.”

“I seriously do not like him,” Click’s image decided looking at the sluggish bully.

At the end of the day, Cathy joined the gang in walking home. Nevertheless, she did not say much, as she only walked with them to be with David. When they parted ways with the other kids, she turned to him.

“They are nice,” she decided, “but I don’t like them as much as I like you.”

“I try to like everyone,” he shrugged.

“I know,” she accepted, “That is why you are such a good person.” With this, she looked ahead in thought. Finally, she looked back at him. “I like your Ma,” she said, “And, your grandpa is funny.”

“Well,” he offered, “you should come down this weekend. Maybe you could have dinner with us.”

“Do you think that your folks would mind?”

“Nah!” He assured brightly, “My friends in Savannah used to come over all of the time.” Hearing this, the girl fell into thought once more. Finally, when they reached the trail to her house, she looked at him.

“I am glad that you are my friend,” she declared solemnly, “And I am looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

“I am glad too,” he replied in matching solemnity, “And I can’t wait.”

“That was beautiful,” Click smiled as he continued on to his home.

This time, he read the whole chapter rather than the five pages assigned. Moreover, although she wanted him to learn it on his own, his unseen friend was all too willing to explain anything that he did not understand.

Grandma made stuffed cabbage for dinner that night, which was Ma’s favorite. As they ate, Ellen told her mother about David’s saving the girl. Afterward, he volunteered to help do dishes, but Grandpa denied this.

“I want to look you over first,” he said, “Rabies is nothing to fool with.”

“I think that you should tell them now,” Click decided in his mind.

“Okay,” the boy confessed aloud, heaving a reluctant sigh, “I didn’t kill the dog.”

“Then who did?” William demanded uncertainly, “The little girl said that you killed it.”

“She didn’t see as she was trying to climb a tree,” he explained, “By the time that she looked around, the dog was dead.”

“If she didn’t kill it, and you didn’t, then who did?” Ma asked uncertainly. At this, the boy hesitated. Then, with another reluctant sigh, he held out his left arm.

“Click.”

“Who?” Grandpa pressed in stunned vagueness.

“Click.” At this, the bracelet unwrapped itself from his arm, to slowly rise, forming itself into an orb in the air. Seeing this, Grandma fainted, and William took a step backwards.

“Oh my God!” Ma gasped.

“What is that?” The old man demanded his voice an astounded whine.

“That is my friend, Click,” David explained as the entity hung motionless in the air over the dinner table. Then, starting from his going out to the barn two nights before, he recalled the shooting star, its breaking open, and his meeting the alien being. In the wake of this, the adults were stupefied. Finally, Ma looked at him.

“It hasn’t hurt you-has it?”

“No!” He insisted. Then, after listening, he conveyed, “She said to tell you that she loves me.” Pausing once more, he took on a soft look, “And she said that as I love you, she loves you as well.”

“I want you to tell it to go away!” The old man demanded as he tried to rouse Grandma.

“I have an idea!” Click said in his mind.

“No!” David denied sharply as the floating sphere began to shimmer and vibrate, “She will die without me!”

“You don’t know that-.” Ma pleaded as a soft whining sound began to come from the shimmering ball of silver. After a second, this stopped. Then, to their amazement, it returned to form words.

“I . . . I will not hurt David,” the whine said as the image of the woman faded from his view, “Will not hurt you. I am a friend.” With this, the ball drifted gown to light on his wrist once more, as the adults sat in amazed shock.

“Lock yourself around my arm,” he told her in thought, “And hold on so they can’t get you off!”

“That . . . Took a lot out of me,” she confessed weakly in his mind as she wrapped herself around his small wrist. At this, and despite his mother’s gasping protest, he held his wrist up to his forehead, and began to think about division problems as hard as he could. After a few seconds, her image reappeared, standing by the sink.

“Thank you David,” she approved brightly, “I feel much better now!” At this, the young fellow looked around the room.

“Click is my friend,” he insisted once more, “She killed the dog because it was a threat to me.”

“And what if it thinks that one of us is a threat?” William challenged. Pausing, the boy listened. Then he shook his head.

“She says that that is ridiculous, and that I need you as much as she needs me.”

“But why does she need you?” His mother pressed, near tears. In response, he explained how she fed off the energy of his thoughts; how the energy usually dissipated into the air but she absorbed it for sustenance. At this, Grandpa asked where it came from.

“She doesn’t know as she is only a couple of days old,” David explained. Then, in a voice that betrayed protective anger, he added “And she is not an ‘it!’ She is my friend!”

“But, how do you know that it is a she?” Ma countered.

“Because she told me that she is.”

In the end, the adults were helpless to do anything but accept the boy’s assurance that the being was benign. That night, as a precaution, he told her to stay wrapped around his arm.

“Wake me up if they come and try to take you off, and I will run away,” he thought.

“There is no need for that,” she laughed, “Because I will not let them take me off if you do not want them to.” In the wake of this, the boy confronted something that she had said.

“Do you really love me?” He thought in slight amazement.

“More deeply than either of us can comprehend,” she assured him warmly, “As you are the source of my life.”

“And you are the best friend that I have ever had,” he replied with heartfelt certainty.