DUM SPIRO, SPERO
Part 62
 

"What devilment will he be up to next time?"

"The Odyssey," Fitzgerald Translation. Book 4, Line 714. Used without permission.
 

MICHAEL:

Prof and me are still working. I'm not doing any more TMB stuff right now, I got way much homework to get done.

"I think it's real cool, you and J, you're gonna be parents," I tell him.

"It is...and a little scary."

Yeah, I can believe that.

"J feeling okay?"

"She's feeling very well. So far, at least, she seems to have not been cursed with some of the miseries that other women experience."

"Cool. Like Dr. Scully, she gets real sick."

"Unfortunately, yes, but she does always end up with beautiful kids."

"Guess that's what matters."

"Yeah, it is."

"Wonder if my dad was scared."

"He doesn't talk about things like that much, but from what he has mentioned, I think he was very nervous at the prospect of his first child."

"Yeah, well, that's understandable, they got Les."

"I also think he was genuinely surprised by how much he enjoyed having kids, and how much he loved them. When he does talk about it, when you and your sister were small, he's always just beaming. I think that was a happy time for him."

"Well, yeah, as happy as Dad ever gets." I look up for a moment from my chem lab report. "They're doing it, you know."

Prof looks up at me and blinks, pulling off his glasses. "I'm sorry?"

"I said, they're doing it."

"Who's doing what?"

"My dad and Martha, you dope!"

"What're they doing?"

"It, Byers, it!"

He looks a little surprised, but only for a second. Then he smiles. "Well, well, well. I see he's making a nice recovery." He's actually chuckling, the bastard!

"Excuse me, this isn't funny!"

"Oh Michael, lighten up already! I'm happy for him. He's not the sort of person who should be alone. Too easy for him to become a hermit."

He chews on the end of one of the temples of his glasses. "And besides, he really needed to get laid."

This is the sort of remark I expect Langly to make, not the prof.

"You think this is great." I know I sound like a whiny, accusing five-year-old, and I don't give a fuck.

"Yes, I do, actually."

"Well, that's all nice and everything, it'd be great if he'd get off my case about MY sex life!"

This makes the prof laugh. "Michael, he's never going to do that, you know that, don't you?"

"That's what Mulder says."

"Get used to it."

"No, I don't think so. I told him Kelly and me got engaged, and you know what? The bastard just wants to lecture me!"

"Sounds like he's being a father."

"He could've at least said congratulations!"

Byers is still gnawing on his glasses. "Michael, I only found out 48 hours ago that I was going to be a father...and already, I can sense a change in perspective...so I can only imagine what he thinks with you being as old as you are."

I'm starting to get real bugged at him. Sometimes cool rational people like the prof and Ally just piss me off so bad.

Speaking of Ally, she lets herself in. "Hey, Langly and Patrick didn't come back yet, did they?"

"Nope." I tell her.

"They've been gone over three hours." She shrugs. "Oh well. Maybe Langly discovered he could skate. Anyway, Sam Adams in the fridge."

Well, the day's not a total loss.
 

LANGLY:

At first I think my arm's only sprained. But I can't move my fingers. I got big hands to begin with, now that one's swelling up and looks like a freak of nature.

I had to get Patrick to undo my skate boots. You wanna talk about embarrassing?

Driving's not too awful, I still have a working right hand, so I can manage, but it hurts like hell by the time we get back. And Patrick's been crying the whole way home. I tell him finally to shut up, and he 's quiet the rest of the way.

I'd yell at Patrick if I could breathe right now, for running off like that.

"Hey Ally." I'm coughing my lungs out by the time I get inside, complete with lung cookies. It's gross.

"Hey babe-what's wrong?" She comes over to me and leads me to the kitchen table. "Shit, what happened to your hand?"

"Kind of took a header there." I can't quit coughing. She grabs a bottle of Robitussin out of the cupboard and pops two spoonfuls of the nasty concoction in me. I don't care. Maybe I can stop coughing for two minutes. "Speed Racer over there decided he didn't have to listen to me and took off like a bottle rocket and I had to catch up to him!"

Ally turns to glare at Patrick, who'd like to beat a hasty retreat right now.

"Patrick. Why did you do that?" She's mad now.

"'Cause I seed somebody bad!"

"You saw what?" I ask him.

"I seed somebody bad! Somebody useta come and see my other daddy. He says they're bad."

"Excuse me?" Ally's still pissed at him. "Okay, Patrick. You said somebody bad was there, and he used to know your other dad. You want to tell us what he looks like?"

Patrick's thinking. "He gots dark hair."

Okay, that narrows it to about 65 percent of the population of the continental US.

"He useta come see my other daddy, but then my daddy said he should go away and not ta boffer us."

I'm sorry, but he's only four years old. He can't be sure. I mean, he's a smart little guy, but still.

"You think you saw him," I say to Patrick.

"No! I seed him, I knowed I did!" He stamps his little foot-okay, it's not that little. Poor kid got my feet, which were also Scott's feet.

Ally looks at him and then at me. She just kind of shakes her head. "Maybe he did."

"I did!" Patrick is adamant that he's right.

Course, I never get like that. I'll always admit I'm wrong. Right?

"Hey, what's going on?" Miranda's back, toting her backpack and a pillow and a pile of shopping bags. Sorry, I never understood shopping as a hobby, but when I told her this, she said it wasn't a hobby, it's a lifestyle.

Which I understand even less.

"Whoa, dude, you look like someone just forgot to bury you." She's saying this to me.

"Thank you Miranda, I needed that," I cough out. And I cough really hard, and I barf up some again.

Grossness.

This does, however, have the effect of scaring the kids away.

Ally looks at me, looks at my hand, looks at me again, and says, come on.

"C'mon, I'll deal with it in the morning, it's probably just sprained, we got any Vicodins?"

"Fat fucking chance you will. Up. Now."

Maybe if I just go to bed, drink about a gallon of Robitussin, pop some painkillers, and sleep till tomorrow, I'll be okay. I don't wanna move...

I'd fight her about it.

If only I wasn't so damn miserable right now.
 

MICHAEL:

Prof's gone on home to the wife. Okay, so it's not official yet, but it's not like it's gonna be much different for them once it is.

I go and see what Kelly's up to. She's still studying.

"Organic is killing me," she says. "I'm starting to get a headache."

"Want a shoulder massage?" I ask her, but I already start in. She's purring like a kitten when I do this.

"Michael, I'd marry you if this was your only talent," she says happily.

"Much as I like doing this, I hope it's not."

"Get real. About as far from the truth as you can get." She's leaning over now and I'm working her neck. This makes her purr more.

I bet I could get her to really purr...make that roar.

Except we got work to do.

"Michael, I think you'd be a good doctor."

"Kel, I haven't decided anything."

"Michael. Think about it. You're really smart-"

"Oh, sure." I mean, I'm not totally brain dead, but still...

"And you're really good with people in some ways-"

"You gotta be kidding, Kel. What I'm mostly good at is pissing people off. Which I did with my dad today."

"Nothing new there."

"Nope. But I told him about us."

"And lemme guess, he went ballistic."

"Let's just say that congratulations weren't exactly in order."

"He'll get used to it. I think he just gets upset when he thinks you're grown up, because that means he's getting old."

"He's not too old to be doing the deed, apparently."

This makes her turn around. "You're sure they're doing it?"

"Oh, yeah."

She smiles. "I think that's great. They're so cute."

Oh Christ. Am I the only one that thinks this might not be cool?

And cute?! Those two?! Cute?!

"Kel, maybe you need a study break."

"Nice try, Michael, but I've got two more chapters to review."

"I wasn't trying for that-well, okay, I wouldn't turn you down or anything-"

She laughs. "Michael, go finish your homework."
 

I do need to get back to work. I got one more lab report and one more problem set to do, and it's a huge problem set. Not hard, but large.

If it ain't difficulty, it's volume. Like I buy it one way or another.

Ally says there's Sam's in the fridge. Only ones in the kitchen are Miranda and Patrick, though.

Having a conversation.

You know, Miranda's not a bad big sister most of the time. Especially when the folks aren't around. She talks to him like a grownup, and she listens when he talks. This is like totally different from how they treat their parents.

"Where's the big kids?" I ask Miranda.

"St. Brigid's," she answers.

"What the fuck?"

"Hey, Langly took Patrick skating. Need I say more?"

"What, he fuck himself up?"

"Looks like it. Messed up his arm and doing lung cookies all over. Gross!"

"Didn't fall on his head, did he?"

She laughs. "Wouldn't make any difference if he did, that's his least vulnerable spot."

Patrick's happy to see me, comes over and climbs on me. It'd be sort of nice if he'd just chill and sit down, but Patrick's gotta squirm all the time. And man, has that kid gotten big since he came here. He's skinny, but he keeps getting longer.

"Daddy got hurted 'cause I seed somebody bad," Patrick explains to me.

"He says someone that used to visit his dad," Miranda clarifies. "I think that's what he means, anyway."

"So not a friend."

"Nope." Patrick shakes his white head hard.

"Whaddya think?" I ask Miranda.

Miranda is a consummate skeptic, so I expect her to blow off his story totally.

"I think he knows who he saw. I'm sure of it. I mean, you're a pain in the ass, little bro-"

"I are not!"

"But you're not stupid."

"What do the big kids think?"

She snorts. "They think he's too young to know. Which is total bullshit." She's cooking mac and cheese, Stouffers. "Do you ever get tired of people just thinking you don't know jack just because you're young?"

I feel like bursting out laughing, but all I say is, oh yeah.

"Yeah, me too. It's like, my opinions aren't supposed to count just because I'm not over 21? As if I'm not capable of making informed choices? As if I'm not able to look at a set of facts and draw a conclusion?"

"I'm over 21, and I get treated like that."

"And it sucks. I mean, my mom's good about paying attention to me and all, but Langly, sometimes he thinks I'm just a stupid chick who all she knows how to do is shop."

"You do know how to shop."

"And I'm damn good at it, thank you very much, but it's not the only thing I can do, you know."

"'Randa, I'm hungry!" Patrick's kicking and squirming.

"Three more minutes, be cool."   She stirs the yellow glop in the microwave, hits the switch again. "You know, I'm like running for student body president, and I'm having a lot of problems, and I like, you know Langly, he works lots of hours, but I really need some help."

"What about your mom?"

"I dunno. I don't wanna talk to her about this for some reason."

"What kind of problems?"

She thinks about whether it's cool to talk to me. Miranda was born suspicious. She just is, about everything.

"Okay. My competition, they're like spreading all these rumors about me."

"That's politics, you know."

"Yeah, but rumors like I had an abortion and I'm sleeping with some 30-year-old guy...and I've been getting real hateful notes stuffed in my locker-"

"How hateful?"

"Let's say I like don't wanna show 'em to my mom."

Oh man.

She laughs. "I mean, I'm a virgin, for Christ's sake! And it's weird. A lot of people who used to be my friends, it's like, they're not my friends anymore...I don't get it. It's been like that all year."

"Whassa virgin?" Patrick asks her.

"Somebody who never had sex," she tells him.

"What's that?"

She groans. "Take that one to Mommy." She spoons him out some mac and cheese. "You want some?"

"Nah, kind of had a major snack with Byers a little while ago. You heard?"

"Heard what?"

"They're in the family way."

"Oh, cool."

"Got some other news, too."

"Like what?"

"Kelly and me are engaged."

I expect her to go like yeah, right, but she doesn't. Not at all.

"Oh, wow, that's so awesome!"

"I think you're the first person who said that to me, thanks."

"But it's great! Oh God, do you think Kelly'd let me be in your wedding?"

"It's not for a few years yet."

"That's okay, never hurts to start planning." And she can speak from experience on this one. "Oh wow, that's so great! I gotta call Shelby and tell her!"

"My dad wasn't too happy about it."

"Oh, screw him-I mean, I like your dad and all, but let's face it, he's such a putz sometimes!"

I have to laugh at that one.

Kelly comes up the stairs right then. "Oh Kelly," Miranda's like so jazzed now, "Michael told me, that's so great!"

"Yeah, it is, isn't it?" She leans over and kisses me. "I'm almost done. You?"

"Nope. I better get back to it."

"Yeah, I got to jump on mine," Miranda says. "Great weekend, and now I pay."

"My mom got married this weekend," I tell her.

"Yeah, Kelly told me. That's cool."

"And my dad and Martha are...well, you know..."

She looks up and her eyes are like all popping out. "What?!"

"They're like...you know."

This makes her crack up laughing. "Oh God. That is too funny! Well, maybe he won't bug you so much about you guys and all, now that he's getting some."

That'd be nice.

And will probably happen a little bit after hell freezes over.
 

It's getting late, and I'm almost done with everything for this week. I pack up my backpack and switch off everything in the offices.

Still don't see Ally's car. What the fuck's taking so long?

I go in to kiss Kelly goodnight. Oh man. What I wouldn't give to be able to just kiss her goodnight and just lie down next to her right now. But I'm already on the old man's shit list as is.

I'm about to bail out when they come pulling in. Ally climbs out her side, heads around, and opens the passenger door.

"Hey Michael, you mind giving me a hand? Blonde One here is pretty out of it."

Yeah, I'd say so. Not only out of it, but bandaged up.

"He broke it."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. And he's got pneumonia."

"Oh, what fun." I remember that one. "You gonna make him stay home?"

"Yes." We're dragging him to his feet. "C'mon, babe, only a few feet till we get in the house."

"Christ, what's he on?"

"Codeine. Major amounts of it." We drag him in, he's like real tired.

"Hmm. You think they could make it permanent?"

She grins at me evilly. "Nope. And don't think I didn't ask."

Aw, too bad.

For us, that is.
 

FROHIKE:

Martha should be home anytime.

Funny, I know she doesn't live here, yet I think of her coming here as coming home.

I wonder how she thinks of it.

And I'm wondering when my darling boy will show up. When he's pissed off, he has a habit of making himself mighty scarce.

I just want him to show some sense, dammit.

Is that too much to ask of your own kids?

I hear keys in the door.

It's Michael.

"Hello," he says, more of a mutter than anything else.

"Where've you been?" I'm not trying to challenge him here, I just want to know what he's been doing.

"Working. Some of us do that, you know."

"Excuse me, dear boy, but I don't think you have the market cornered on working."

"Didn't say I did."

His mood certainly has not improved since this morning.

He wanders towards his room and shuts the door, hard.

Obviously I know what he thinks of me right now.

I follow him, and knock on the door.

"What?"

"You don't have to lip off to me every time I want to talk to you, you know."

"You don't want to talk to me. You just talk at me."

I open the door. "I do not."

He glares at me, hard. "You mind? I'm tired. I got an early class."

"Look, I just want you to be sure you're making the right decision-"

This irritates him, and he slams his backpack on the floor. "No, Dad, that's not it at all. You don't think I'm capable of making any decisions, do you? Do you?"

"I think you're very young to be making such a decision on an issue such as marriage-"

"And when the fuck am I gonna be old enough, huh? Like when I'm sixty? Christ, I don't bug you about what you do-"

"The hell you don't."

"Hey, I try to be decent to you, to her, I work my ass off, I'm trying, what the fuck else do you want?"

Michael has a voice that can wake the dead, and right now, he's exercising
it.

"Oh, you were certainly decent last night," I remind him acidly.

"Oh, Jesus, get over it already! Christ, I can't make one comment and I end up paying-"

"You were rude!"

"Oh, and you're not? Like I tell you me and Kelly got engaged, so do you say congratulations or that's cool or anything like that? No, you gotta start right in on me!"

"You two are a lot younger than we are."

"Yeah, and like your track record's so stellar, isn't it, Dad?"

"Hey, it happened, I don't think I need it shoved down my throat-"

"Yeah, well, I'm getting tired of hearing what a fuck up I am being shoved down mine!"

"Fine, then quit acting like one!"

I slam the door behind me.

And then I notice that Martha has quietly slipped in.

END OF PART 62