Yeah, yeah, I know, I've been derelict. Sorry, insane week.

love, sally :)

DUM SPIRO, SPERO
Part 61
 

"No, and I kept stopping to think,
and all the way I was going in circles
and turning right back.
Yes, and my soul keeps telling me things,
Says: What are you going to there for..."

"Antigone," Translation by Richard Emil Braun. Lines 273-277. Used without
permission.
 

MICHAEL:

I'm not in a good mood when I get to Chateau Langly.

I stop in to see Kelly. She's still writing a lab report, something I got to do this afternoon, among about a thousand others.

Yeah, Dad, I'm a real slacker.

"Well, well, look who's here," it's Langly, clicking away at something.

"Fuck you, Langly."

"Oooh, what's the matter, Junior? Papa Bear on the warpath or something?"

"As a matter of fact, he is, so fuck off!"

"Calm down, kids." It's Byers, who I could barely even see. He sits over by Dad, I sit by Langly, so he's like on the other side.

"What, you trying to practice on us or something?" Langly's hassling him,
too.

"Might as well. It's not everyone who has clay pigeons they can get their best lines worked out on." Byers is chuckling. This is almost even more annoying than Langly's being a fuckrag.

"Oh, like you'd need the practice. Swear to god, Byers, you were never a kid!" It's Langly, who keeps typing while he talks, as is normal for him. I can't do it. Don't know how he does. His wife can do it, too. Maybe that's how they got it together.

I doubt it. Dad says it was the sex. Says it always comes down to sex.

Which is apparently okay for everybody but me!

"And you never grew up," Byers teases him back.

"Oh, shut up already." I am really not in the mood for these guys and their cheerful back and forth.

"Hey, Junior, guess what? Byers is gonna be a daddy!"

"No shit." I sort of get distracted from my bad mood for a second.

Byers is grinning, and I do mean grinning-not one of those real small smiles he usually keeps himself to, but a real smile, with teeth.

"It's true. Beginning of June."

"Coolness." I'm happy for the prof. He wants kids. He wants them now.

Better him than me.

The good news having been shared, now would you all please shut up? I got work to do.
 

Thank God they shut up for a while. Pain in the ass.

Byers gets up after a while, asks if anybody wants a beer, Langly and me are like, yeah, sure.

"So Langly?"

"Yeah."

"You like okay with this?"

"Okay with what?"

"You know, Byers having a kid and all. I mean, I know you wanted one big time and all-"

We're interrupted by what appears to be a projectile, but is in fact the form of Patrick, charging towards Langly, and managing to knock over a pile of diskettes in the process and one trash can.

"Daddy, come skating!" He crawls up in Langly's lap, and Langly kind of musses up his hair.

"I can't skate, you know that." It's true. Langly's a total waste on skates.

"You can learn! Mommy teached me, bet she'd teach you!"

"Hey bud, why don't you see if Mommy wants to skate with you?"

"She hasta go to the market."

"So go with her."

"Don't wanna. Hate the market!"

Seems reasonable to me.

"Maybe Junior here'll skate with ya."

"Nope, I got homework after this, and I'm gonna be here forever as is. Sorry, dude." I tell the little guy. He kind of sulks, and man, when he does, does he ever look like Langly.

Also, like Langly, Patrick is persistent as hell. He's not gonna give it up real easy.

"Come on!" Patrick's like crawling all over him and whining and squirming.

"I don't have skates, dude."

"You get 'em in the park!" You can rent blades for 5 bucks for the entire day. It's something even Kelly and me can afford to do.

Ally walks in. "I need to head out for a while and he wants to stay with you. That cool, babe?"

"I wanna go skating!" Patrick's playing both Mom and Dad now. It's almost funny to watch.

"So take him skating," Ally shrugs. "Go to the park. It's pretty flat. You can't kill yourself too badly there."

"Mommy's gonna show me how to go down the hill!" Patrick's like all happy about this.

"What hill?" Langly has this look of sheer terror.

"Our hill," Ally says simply.

The hill up the street to Chateau Langly is about a 60 degree slope. And over 100 feet long.

"I already showed him how to get up it," she says.

"Aw, man, Ally, don't do that, you're gonna get him killed!"

I crack up. It's usually Langly who's off doing stuff that's so off the wall.

She smiles. "Hey, he wears a crash helmet. Bye!" She's gone.

I'm still laughing after that.

"Junior, shut the fuck up!"

"Mommy says you shouldn't say that!" Patrick chides him.

Yeah, like Ally never says it. Not!

"So what're you gonna do, Langly?"

He sighs. "Guess I'm going skating. C'mon, buddy, let's go."

I hear Patrick screaming 'Yay!' as he takes off out of the place at about a hundred or so miles an hour. Langly looks like he's being led on a death march.

God, they're going to the park. Not like they're gonna do any extreme
stuff.

Wussy.
 

Just me and the prof.

"So when'd you find out?"

"Friday night." God, his voice even smiles! "Michael, are you hungry?"

"Why?"

"I'm starved. Feel like a snack?"

"Hell, I can always eat."
 

We raid the fridge. Ally says she has to go to the market, which always happens when say they get down to enough food for only about 80 or so.

You can't starve at Chateau Langly. What the real miracle is that no one weighs 500 pounds. Yet.

I'm thinking, the prof wants a snack, we'll probably makes some sandwiches, grab some apples, if Ally made cookies we'll eat those.

We do. And the potato salad, and oranges, and melon, and Doritos, and grapes, and carrots, and some of Ally's zucchini bread and cream cheese...

And Byers is like eating it ALL.

"Byers, dude, it's not like you're eating for two or anything, I think
that's J's job."

Kelly comes up to see this.

"What's going on here?" she asks.

"Have something to eat. Before the prof here eats it all."

Byers glares at me, but he does keep eating.

"He's pregnant, you know." I tell her this.

"Juliet is, at any rate." Byers clears this up, as if Kelly wouldn't guess.

She laughs. "Sympathy hunger? Oh God, I thought Dana was kidding!"

Byers is not amused.
 

LANGLY:

I've truly lost my mind.

What other explanation do you have for me renting a pair of Rollerblades to take my four-year-old skating on a Sunday afternoon?

I have seen my death, and it will be on these monstrous kluge-like devices. When you got size 12 and a half feet, well, these things look like something the old woman kept her too many kids in. (Yep, and I've read too many nursery rhymes, too).

Why am I doing this to myself?

Simple. I got a four-year-old boy that wants to go.

I'm so easy it's disgusting.

This place throws in the pads and makes you sign that you'll use 'em, else they don't rent to you.

Oh, like I'm gonna do this naked. Not!

Patrick says I got my knee pads upside down. How the hell does he know that?

Hell, they're on, that's what matters.

Ally's got a crash helmet for him, this is probably a good idea. We should probably let him wear it all the time for everything. This kid is just always getting cut and scraped and scratched and dented all over the place. We should've taken stock in Johnson & Johnson for what we spend on Band Aids.

In short, he's a normal little guy.

I used to be the same way, only difference was, I didn't skate. Never learned how. I can do most other sports, and some of 'em I could do pretty well. So of course my kid wants to rollerblade. Figures.

I try to stand up on these, I tried to do it with Ally one time. I immediately land on my ass. Patrick thinks this is hilarious.

Ally's right about that it's not the falling down that kills, it's the getting up.

I ask him how he does it. He's like, you just skate.

Very helpful, Patrick.

After a few more crashes, I finally get up and I'm kind of wobbly, but if I don't go too fast, I'm okay. Problem is, Patrick is fast. I keep losing him. He's always like 50 feet ahead of me, I keep yelling at him to slow down. He does, for like a second, then he's up and hauling ass again. He falls a lot, but he's built low to the ground. And his bones are a hell of a lot more plastic than mine are.

Tomorrow he won't even remember how many times he went down. I, on the other hand, will be reminded of it in spades every time I try to move.

I'm trying to get comfortable doing this. It's not happening. I feel real cramped up in my legs. It's real awkward trying to move like this. And the park's crowded, seems like everybody decided it was a great day to break out their skates. This makes keeping track of the little guy even harder.

Plus I still got this cold, I can't stop coughing now, my chest is starting to hurt, and I'm barely moving at all compared to a lot of people out here.

I tell Patrick if he's not gonna stay by me, we can't skate and we have to go home. This annoys him a little, but then he's like, okay, and he only stays a little bit in front of me.

This is okay, I decide. I almost get knocked over a few times by some less than polite skaters (no pads, I notice-must be too terminally hip to wear 'em), but otherwise, I'm not falling a lot, and Patrick's like being okay. I only have to yell at him to fall back about every 5 minutes, which for a four-year-old boy is really not bad.

He could probably skate forever, but I'm really starting to feel sick. I didn't feel all that great when I got up, but working in the office, I'm staying pretty quiet most times except for fighting with Junior, and we do that anyway, it's like it's part of the work day.

Finally, I gotta stop. I can't breathe, my one ear is totally plugged and the other one's not too good right now. I tell Patrick to pull over. He ignores me for a minute, but I yell at him as best I can considering I cough about every other syllable, and he comes into the grass. Of course I can't stop too good so I sort of take a dive, but it's not a bad one, I land on my knees which are padded up.

"Hey buddy. I think we gotta go home soon."

He looks kind of bummed. "Okay. Here's the deal. We rest a few minutes, skate a little more, then we go home. Okay?"

"'Kay." He's not thrilled, but he can live with that.

For about a minute. Then he's like, I wanna skate!

I tell him, stay real close and don't skate fast.

That bums him, but guess it's better than nothing, he's like just moving back and forth along the same 25 feet or so at a nice mellow clip.

Then all of a sudden, he takes off like a bat out of hell. I mean, the kid is hauling. Really hauling butt.

I try to get up as fast as I can and I'm screaming for him to stop but he just keeps going, and I can't see him...

Oh Christ. If I'd had the brains to take these things off when I had the chance, I could've run after him pretty good, but this is like...

Forget it. Move it, asshole!

I do. This is like real unsettling, I'm going way too fast, I can't see him...

Oh Jesus fuck no!

Finally I see him, and he's still kicking ass, but I think he's getting a little tired-he's gone a LONG way and he's slowing a little. I'm just about to pass out here, I'm coughing so bad I throw up a little, a few skaters around me make a face like eeuw, gross, and it is, but too bad. I gotta catch up to him...

Finally, I'm right behind him. I reach down to grab him...

And we both go flying.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

As I land on the grass with him, I feel something go snap in my left arm.
 

FROHIKE:

I can't concentrate to save my life. I'm trying to work on the things Dana Scully has asked me to do for her. I need to do this. It's important to her research. And if I'm any kind of friend, I wouldn't be doing the half-ass job I'm doing right now.

C'mon, Frohike. You said only the body was faulty.

Apparently I lied.

I can't help it right now.

My son is engaged.

What the hell is he thinking?

What the hell is she thinking?

Oh God. They're so young. They're so broke. Their lives are in constant flux.

My son doesn't even have a major declared, for Christ's sake!

And now he's considering declaring a premed major?

He's never mentioned it. Never expressed any interest.

What kind of influence has this girl had on him?

You think I don't like Kelly. You'd be wrong. I think Kelly is a smart, strong, determined girl. And she does seem to love my son.

The problem is that she is only 19 and has a thousand years of training ahead of her. Will she change her mind? She's not the warmest girl in the world. What will happen if Michael changes his mind?

How can they know if they can give the other what he or she needs?

How are they planning to work their futures out in terms of where they'll attend school, how they'll pay for it (I don't seriously think I can pay for four years of college and four years of medical school for my son-Frohike, why are you even jumping ahead like this? He hasn't even said he's going to do it!), where they'd live, what would they do if children entered the picture, who will take care of what...

Have they discussed any of this? I'm worried that they haven't.

I worried when Langly announced his intentions regarding Allison, but not in the same way. Allison had been married previously and is a mother. Those issues had to be hammered out in the beginning; they had no choice in that regard. And I was satisfied that they did make those decisions, at least from the knowledge base they had at that time. I think their discussions regarding a second child were lacking, but Allison may have considered the possibility so remote as to not be worth the discussion. And the truth be told, I think Langly was a little bit surprised by his desire for progeny of his own. I don't think he expected to get slammed by that on the ass.

And there's always stuff that slams you in the ass, totally unsuspecting, when you're not looking. That's the stuff that can make or break your life as a couple. Allison and Langly get stretched to the limit on things, but they seem to have the right elements to stick it out.

Their ages help. They're not kids.

My biggest worry about Byers was that he would forever play the martyr, as he did so well for nearly a decade. And even when love came in and kicked him in the butt, he resisted for a long time. Fortunately, he has chosen, from all indications, well. They are much alike, but she is warmer and tougher, in my estimation. And she's managed to bring out those qualities in him. He'll always be an uptight WASP boy, but he's a little less uptight than he used to be. I think they'll do well together. Both of them are mature and conscientious, and once Byers made up his mind to be devoted to her, he never looked back.

And now they're going to be parents. That is going to be one lucky child. Born to two people who truly want him or her, have the resources to care for the child, and will move heaven and earth to make certain that child is brought up well.

Mulder and Scully? I still can't believe they were so stubborn for so long. How long they didn't see what the other felt. Or chose not to see.

And in the end, all it took was a jaunt to Antarctica.

Their lives will never have the peace and order that Byers and Juliet will at least present to their children. Yet they seem to have found what they need in each other. They'd kill and die for the other. They already have. In spite of Dana's misgivings about her imminent third child, I feel this will probably not be a major long run obstacle. They'll go through their entire cycle of emotions, and in the end, they will adapt, adjust, and adore the new one, just as they do the two they've been blessed with so far. Two that they never expected to be able to have.

We had something to do with that, I'm proud to say. The best funky poaching we ever did in our lives.

And what about you, Frohike, while you're judging every one all around you? You, who haven't had a successful relationship yet. Both of yours went up in flames. And they didn't have to...

With Dee, would we have made it for the long haul?

I'd like to think so.

They say the third time's a charm.

I'd like to think with age and experience, we have brought what we need to the table. I think we have. Of course, I want to believe that.

I'm just not sure Kelly and Michael, at this time in their lives, even have things to bring to the table. There is not much experience with the opposite sex for either one of them. They're not educated yet. They have a lifetime of things to go through yet.

The hard part for me, though, is that my son is pulling away from me now. He's decided he wants to play in the larger world of adults. And I don't think he's ready to go there yet.

Martha argues that I don't think he's ready because I don't want him to be.

Plain talk. That's her. She's quiet. But there is a forthrightness to her I find reassuring.

I am, however, baffled by her frequent defense of my son. I don't think she knows him well enough to realize how very immature he still is. As he demonstrated in slamming out of the house this morning.

I really was trying to discuss matters with him. I wanted to.

But as usual, we let our emotions carry us downstream, and we end up on the rocks. Again.

And you wonder why I worry about my son.

I worry about him because he's so much like myself.


MICHAEL:

Kelly and me tell the prof we got engaged when we're finishing our 'snack' which looks more like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

He's like, totally pleased. Nice to see someone be real happy for us.

He congratulates us, asks us when we're gonna do it and all, and he's like, anything he and J can do for us, they'll be happy to...

How about adopting us so we have a little money?

I think it, I don't say it. Fact is, I got one father, and he's already such a pain in the ass, I don't think I could deal with two. I got a feeling that Carl's gonna be big on giving advice, too. The good thing is, I live here and he lives in Jersey, so it's not like I got to have him in my face all that much. And let's face it, he's not a bad guy.

I just don't want him thinking he can pull any dad crap on me. That's all.

Hard enough when your own father thinks you're a total waste of space.

Just once, I tell the prof when we're back out working in the offices again, just once, I'd like my dad to say I did something right instead of criticizing everything I do.

"He does say that," Byers looks like I'm crazy.

Excuse me? Have I been living in some weird parallel universe all this time?

"Not to me he doesn't," I snort. And it's true. He doesn't.

"He says it to other people."

"Big fucking deal. Just once in my life, I'd like to hear I did something good enough for him!"

Byers looks at me, and he's a little sad. Why?

"Me, too, Michael."
 

LANGLY:

I've fallen and I can't get up. Least not using this one arm.

Think I sprained it or popped something out.

I don't think I broke it.

I'm hanging on to a freaking out Patrick with one arm, my good one, and trying to get my bearings again.

I'm so pissed at him. I told the little fucker not to do that, and he went ahead and did it anyway.

He is gonna get it for this.

Course, I wanna kick his ass, I got to be able to get two words out in a row, and breathing would help. Which right now, I can't do. I'm feeling pretty woozy. I tell him to get his skates off.

He doesn't argue this time.

Guess he knows he's in trouble now.

But first we gotta get home.

Maybe I'll just let Ally deal with him.

In the meantime, I got to figure out how I'm gonna get these stupid skates off.

END OF PART 61