A Little Common Sense

Chapter 3
Part 3

After I took care of the alarm people, with the help of a company driver, we managed to get everything inside the house. Donna had shot the works on this. I couldn’t believe how excited I felt thinking about trying the clothes on - like a kid at Christmas, I thought with a smile.

The doorbell rang.

I felt like killing whoever was there. I opened the door to find Geoffrey outside.

"Exactly what part of ’go away’ didn’t you understand?"

He looked at me, and walked inside. "I called Merganser and he said he never talked to you. He said you never threatened him with any sort of legal action."

"Oh, did I say that? I must be getting old and senile. As far as I know being sneaky and underhanded isn’t against the law. Then again, so am I. So now, Geoffrey, besides your ’touching’ concern for me, why are you conspiring with the vultures against me?"

"You need to retire," he said, and sat down.

"The hell I do. You are trying your best to cut your brother and sister out of the profits from the sale of the company. You turn it over to the vultures for a huge cut, and they get nothing. Bobby knows about this, I haven’t been able to reach Carolyn, but I will tell her shortly. I think this stinks, Geoff, I really do. I thought I had taught you better than that."

"They would get some."

"Have you ever given a thought about what would happen afterwards? What happens when your wife and all of your artsy friends go through that money. What happens if you go on another gambling binge and lose everything? You’ve destroyed my income, there is no more money coming in because the company is gone, and then what?

"You’re on your own for the next two months, sonny boy. No money from me, nothing. How long has it been since you’ve sold a painting? How long has it been since you’ve lifted a finger to do anything but trying to stick the shaft to the rest of your family? I’d suggest you get a job, start doing something with your life, and maybe, just maybe I might write you back into my will. Is that clear?"

"You can’t do this to me."

"I already have. Now, think about this, and get out of my house. I don’t want you back here until I call you."

He walked out the door, and I followed him outside. I waited until I saw him drive well around the corner. I took a set of kid’s clothes, hurried into my bedroom, and changed. Dressed in cut off jeans, and a t-shirt, I grabbed a "Choco-Ice" from the fridge, and ran outside. I couldn’t believe how good it felt to run for the hell of it. I rounded the corner, and saw Geoff’s Lexus parked a little way down the street. He was on his cell phone and I had to tap on his window to get his attention.

"What do you want?" Geoff demanded, glaring at me.

"Hi, Mr. Henderson. Your dad thought you might like a cold drink while you watch his house. It’s not going anywhere, really. He said if you need to go, you know, to the boys’ room? You can’t use his."

"No, thank you," he said looking at the ’Choco-Ice’ in my hand. "Wait a second, kid. Who are you?"

"I’m Kevin, your dad got me some clothes. He’s really nice. I promised I’d tell him if I ever see you parked here watching his house again, too."

Geoffrey grumbled, and started the car. I jumped back as he pulled away without so much as a ’good bye’. I watched him go until his car was long out of sight.

That was great. I half danced back down the road. Chalk one up for the brat.

I walked up the driveway to the house remembering the basketball hoop I had installed for the boys when they were small. It was gone years ago, but I wished I had it now. I put the drink down, started moving my hand up and down then dribbled the ball down the court. I jumped and shot, yes, it went in, nothing but net. I dribbled for a moment, took another shot, and missed. About to take my third shot, another pair of hands came out of nowhere, and stole the ball from me.

The boy next to me looked about my age, maybe a little older, and he fired at the net. I grabbed the rebound and tried again. I had a blast. Playing one on one with an invisible ball and net was difficult, but we managed, for about ten minutes.

At that point, I could swear I heard the ball bouncing on the pavement. I bounced it a couple more times, and looked at the other boy.

"That is so cool, how are you doing that?" he asked. "I’m Pete."

"I’m Kevin, and I don’t have a clue." I threw the ball, heard it

hit the backboard, bounce on the rim and hit the pavement. I caught the ball, and tried again. I could see the net, I could see the outline of the backboard exactly as it was when it stood there the last time. I shot the ball, and watched it swish through the net.

Pete grabbed the ball, then looked down at his hands. "It’s there. I can...." As he talked I could see the outline of a basketball fade in. He bounced the ball, shot it, and the game went on as before, but with a solid ball and real net.

"What happened?" Pete asked, awed.

"Don’t know. Maybe it’s a memory, or something. Mr. Henderson said he used to have a net here for his kids, a million years ago. That’s why I shot at the hoop."

Three more boys joined us, and the game got rowdy until we heard mothers’ voices calling."

"Bye," Pete said, and tossed me back the ball. "You staying here?"

"Kind of," I said. "Later."

I walked inside, feeling better than great. Why I should feel so pumped about playing with and making friends with the neighborhood kids I couldn’t explain. I did, and that was good enough for me, at the moment. I took a drink from the fridge, and wandered into the bedroom to change.

What was going on? I had the power to change my shape from an old man to a little boy. There was nothing wrong with that, as far as I could see, but there wasn’t anything much I could do with that power, either. I wasn’t some sort of super hero. I could also project things and make them real? To be sure, I walked over to the window and looked out. The basketball net stood there, as real as it had been years ago.

I watched a police car pull into the driveway, and I walked over to the door to let the officer in.

"Can I help you?"

"Mr. Henderson? Kevin Henderson?" he asked, looking at me. "We have a report that you are harboring a run away child?"

I nodded, and motioned the man to take a seat. "Harboring, no. Helping, yes. There is a street kid that has been here, a couple of days. His name is Kevin, I don’t have a last name. He doesn’t stay here. I offered him clothes since he was in rags, I offered him food, and a place to stay, but he refused. As far as I can see, he’s a wild thing, like a deer in a field, if you get my meaning. He needs a lot more help than I can give, but if I try any more than I have I’m scared he might bolt again. He’s playing with the neighborhood kids, and I put in that basketball hoop in for him.

"If that’s wrong, I am sorry. I have nothing here that I value, and I am not afraid of him stealing from me. He doesn’t want money, and I think he does need a chance. I would love to take him in. I could send him to the best schools and colleges, and give him a real chance in life, but.... I will not stop feeding him, and if I can get him to open up to me, or even to be willing to see Social Services I will."

He smiled, and nodded his head. "Okay, I know the type you mean. Street kids are like that, and if you even hinted about the authorities he would be two cities over before you could blink. It isn’t wrong to offer a starving kid food, and I will leave you my card. If it ever comes to the point that he would talk to me, call me."

After the cop left, I picked up the phone and called my younger son. "Bobby?"

"Hey, Dad. What’s going on?"

"I need you to speak to you, not here, but somewhere private. Would you let me take you out to dinner tonight? Alone? I will make it up to Mary and the kids another time."

"Sure, Dad. It’s Geoffrey, isn’t it?"

"Afraid so, and I don’t want Carolyn in on this yet, either.