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“S’that the little fucker?” Jim Grundy asked. “Sure’s hell took you long enough.”

“I had a test. Why am I here?”

“Why…? You whupped my boys!” Darlene said.

“There, there, Darlene,” Conklin said. He reached forward and patted her on the thigh. “Don’t get excited.”

“They attacked us,” Daniel said.

Conklin gave him a skeptical look. “Did you walk away from a conversation the Grundy boys were having with Adrian Lutz and then come back with a two-by-four post, which you then attacked them with?” he asked.

Reality had become skewed with that interpretation. A placid mood suddenly befell Daniel, like a shore when the tide withdraws before the onslaught of a tsunami. Daniel retreated to his mental battlement and took up arms. “Only if by conversation you mean Tony Soprano chatting with someone who’s late on a payment.”

Sheriff Maher chuckled.

“Smart-ass,” Grundy said.

“Look, none of this happened during school time or on school property,” Daniel added.

“The Grundys are planning a civil suit against you and your parents,” Conklin said. “They came here to talk to Adrian, and to get your personal information. I called this meeting because I am disturbed by this incident, Daniel. This school has adopted a zero-tolerance policy. Certain behaviors have to be noted in this day and age, as the incident at Columbine clearly demonstrated. I have decided to suspend you until such time as we can determine whether expulsion is appropriate. It’s for the safety of the other students.”

Daniel only half heard what came after “civil suit” and “parents.” He was numb. Clyde was already in a frenzy over the desks. “This is ridiculous,” he said. He couldn’t contain the quiver in his voice. “I am not a bully. Adrian will back me up.”

The parents and Conklin looked at each other. Darlene shifted her legs and Daniel caught a peek of her shaved privates, which he was in no position to truly appreciate at that moment. The four adults said nothing.

“What?” Daniel asked.

“Adrian has stated that the Grundy boys are friends and that they were only horsing around,” the sheriff said. “You know, joshing him… nothing serious.”

The battlement took a hit. Someone brought a trebuchet to a sword fight. Daniel’s innards sloughed down to the bottom of his gut; he was light-headed. A hundred thoughts flashed across his mind in anarchy, and he struggled to relate to what was happening right now. His friend Adrian was a coward who feared the Grundys coming after him when he wasn’t around. Daniel pulled what wits he had left and said, “But, he was crying.”

“He was laughing…,” Darlene retorted. “You overreacted. Now my poor baby needs new teeth.”

“Adrian was screaming because your goons were-”

“That’s enough,” Conklin cut in. “Darlene, Mr. Grundy, we’ll handle things from here.”

On the way out, Jim Grundy shot Daniel a look that reminded him of Clyde. Darlene’s glance made it clear Daniel would never get a poke, even if he won the medal of honor.

“Ed?” the principal said.

The sheriff didn’t look happy. “Don’t much like the direction of this, Roscoe. Boys will be boys. We all got into scraps when we was young. And them Grundy boys ain’t exactly angels.”

“When we was young, students didn’t blow away their teachers and schoolmates with AK-47s. These are different times. Ed, bottom line, the boy assaulted two people with a deadly instrument. Are you gonna do your job or not?”

The sheriff put his large hand on Daniel’s shoulder and patted him up. “Let’s go, son. We’ll go to the hospital first and check your injuries.”

As they walked out, Lacy looked on the verge of tears. A cell was probably the safer place to be. It was when Clyde showed up to bail him out that concerned Daniel. Clyde would kill him over this.

The period bell rang; just in time for the whole school to come out and watch Daniel get escorted to jail.

CHAPTER 11

“HONEY, I’M GAY” WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE

1

“Jesus Christ, Cal, she’s pumped us full of psychotropic drugs or something,” Cat MacDonnell said. They sat opposite each other at the kitchen table, squared off like gunfighters at a high-stakes poker game. Cat’s second mug of Irish coffee quivered in her hand. The woman Cal considered as solid as they come was one snowflake short of an avalanche. It pained him to see her like this.

On the other hand, another part of him felt better than it had in more than thirteen years. It was the first day of spring, and a window in his mind had been opened. Memories, like the scent of spring’s first blossom, blew in on the breeze feeling both familiar and new. At the same time, any joy was countered by the seriousness of his failure to conduct his assigned mission.

It was 6:00 A.M., the sun was just breaking the horizon. Seth was dozing in the corner with an empty beer can in his hand, and Lelani was playing with Bree in the living room.

“You don’t really believe you’re some sort of knight from a feudal world?” Cat continued.

“Cat…”

“Erin is dead! Your career is in jeopardy. People are trying to kill us… there’s no time for this fantasy shit!”

“Cat, your language…”

“Fuck my language! I always cuss when I’m high!”

“Cat, we’re not on drugs.”

Bree squealed as Lelani gave her a trot around the apartment.

“You get the hell off that thing this minute, Brianna MacDonnell!” Cat shouted.

“Please don’t call her a ‘thing,’” Cal said. “Centaurs are extremely proud. We owe her our lives.”

“I don’t know who you are,” Cat said to her husband.

Lelani helped Bree down and stood in the corner with her arms folded.

“I’m Cal MacDonnell-husband, father, son, cop. None of those things has changed.”

“Some trick,” Seth said from the couch. “Breaking up a happy family usually involves drugs, greed, alcohol, or infidelity. She does it all by pulling a rabbit out of a hat; or rather, a horse’s ass.”

His wife’s eyes, which Cal had gazed into a dozen times over, were surrounded by webs of crimson fatigue as they searched for a clue to his thoughts. The very structure of reality-time and space, God and science-had been thrown into flux. It wasn’t just the attack or the craziness, Cal realized. The obvious was right there before him. His wife wasn’t sure if there was a future for her in his new and former past. The confidence to handle anything life threw at her, which indelibly defined Cat, was shaken to its core. Cal had mistaken anxiety for anger.

He took Cat’s hands into his own and rubbed them gently. “This doesn’t change how I feel about you,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere without you.” He hoped he sounded more sure than he felt. “Whatever the future brings, we’ll do it together.”

“Is that wise?” Lelani asked. “Consider your obligations.”

“Queen of Tact strikes again,” Seth said from his corner, still half asleep.

“Is what wise?” Cat asked.

“You. Shut up,” Cal told Seth. “This whole mess is your fault.”

“ My fault?” Seth asked, coming full awake. “How the hell can this be my fault?”

“Call it a gut instinct.”

“I don’t remember any of this sci-fi shit!” Seth insisted.

“Well, I remember you. A pain in the ass.”

“Hey man, I may be an ass sometimes, but I didn’t cause your problems. Don’t lay the blame at my feet. I’m a second away from walking out of here and forgetting this crap ever happened.”

“You wouldn’t last a day on your own,” Lelani said.

“What did she mean, Cal? Is what wise?” Cat repeated.

Cal glared at Lelani, a reminder that she was his subordinate.

“I only meant that the road ahead is rife with danger,” Lelani responded. “It might be wiser to put you and the girl somewhere safe.”