Chapter One - Aidan's Quest

Chapter One
Margo



If she had known how much her decision would affect her son, Margo would never have let Sam talk her into keeping the secret. She would have stayed by his side. Instead, Margo, single at 29, gave a wistful smile as she watched her son, nine going on thirty, running out of the house trying to tie the red robe belt around his waist. He slid the sword in his belt and pedaled straight for his friend’s house at the end of the cul-de-sac.

She couldn’t complain, though. She was just glad he was finally starting to make some friends. She was sitting on the porch step, watching her son ride away and waiting for Mr. Wade to get there. She was so glad he volunteered to keep an eye on Aidan while she was at work this summer. Tomorrow was the first weekday of summer and she had to tell Mr. Wade about the results of Aidan’s recent testing at his school.

For the past eight years, Aidan stayed in the local child development center during the summer and after school. They quit taking kids at ten and he would turn ten before the summer was out. That wasn’t really the reason, though. Nor was it the fact that Aidan swore he would mind Mr. Wade if she promised not to make him go this summer. She had another reason for letting him off the hook.


Aidan was not the most popular of kids. He suffered greatly during the summer when the daycare had little structure, and bullies could have their way with him daily without the teacher seeing them. She didn’t have the heart to throw him in the pit again this summer. Not with the recent diagnosis he had been given by the school psychologist. She suggested that Margo encourage a one-on-one relationship with a child or adult rather than a group of 20 kids with little supervision. She was just glad it wasn’t her own fault, or his. Perhaps, her decision ten years before didn’t cause this either, or so she hoped.

Margo saw Mr. Wade in the near distance, too far to shout, but close enough for her to see the smile on his face and the bounce in his step. Mr. Wade owned the house and lived literally next door to her – the other half of the two story bungalow turned into a duplex. She figured it belonged to the lower ranking officers back when this was an old Army post.

Margo remembered Mr. Wade explaining a little of the history of this community. The old Army post was closed by the federal government and was privatized about ten years before. The property included barracks, large office buildings and training facilities, a hospital, as well as the larger officer’s homes and apartments for the married enlisted troops and their families.

The post was bought by a company known in the Southeast for their Senior Villages. It was a huge draw for the community, with all the wealthy baby boomers wanting to invest in property with access to tennis courts and swimming pools, golf and concert grounds, and with nearby access to health care and rehab in case of sudden ill health. This was not the average senior center with 80 year olds in wheelchairs and walkers. No, these “aging” citizens were doing laps around the hospital in tennis shoes, biking shorts and sleeveless sport shirts, cell phones still attached to their hips.

It was a win-win situation, for the newly retired and for Margo and her son. She was a young, single mother without a car and without any support system to speak of, except for Mr. Wade, that is. As a social worker at the nursing home, she served any adult over 65 who was registered as being part of the Senior Village. She had to travel around the property but not outside the compound, especially since she lived there too. It was also good for her son. He could ride his bicycle all over the property and to where she worked, nothing being more than half a mile from the duplex. Before she realized it, Mr. Wade was already approaching the steps.

“That boy of yours nearly ran me over back there. By the way, where’s the war? That boy was armed for bear, all those swords and things hanging off that belt of his.

“I have no idea what he is up to.” Margo watched out the window as she caught a glimpse of her only child riding back toward their house with Luke, who had a sword hanging from his belt too. She had seen the two of them do this for months and thought surely they would have tired of this fantasy by now. Aidan had stopped tying the pillowcase around his neck like a cape, but the sword was as indispensable as the bike, and he went nowhere without that bike. It might have been a great stallion, riding down the slight incline, legs stretched out, hair flying behind his still boyish face. She watched as they passed the house, barely a wave from the two of them to acknowledge she was sitting there.

“It’s hard when they stop needing you for everything, isn’t it?” Mr. Wade reassured her that she was doing a great job and he really was a good kid.

”Come on in, I have some coffee ready for you. Got the paper?” When they reached the kitchen, Margo handed Mr. Wade a cup of black coffee and a pack of sweetener. This had become a ritual of theirs since she moved in. Every Sunday morning, she would provide the coffee and he would bring the paper. Sometimes he even surprised her with some Danish’s or donuts. He was empty handed today, though.

“Now, what do you think?” He pulled a folded up section of the paper out of the inner pocket of his suit coat. He attended church after their coffee so he had his nice suit on. “Grandma B’s was closed when I stopped by. Bea had a sign up that she would be back ‘directly’, so I sent the boys with five dollars to pick some donuts up at the convenience store next to the old commissary. I’m afraid that’s where they were heading so fast when they hardly took time to wave at you. Told ‘em they could keep the change, and you know that money is burning a hole in their pockets. We’ll be lucky to get a donut out of my investment. The boy has to learn the value of money somewhere.”

“Ouch, what are you inferring, Mr. Wade? Think I’m broke, or something?”

“Why, I would never say such a thing?” Mr. Wade winked at her and flashed a wry little grin.

“No, but I know you well enough to read your mind, Old Man. Go on and say it.”

“If you insist, Madam, I will tell you what I think. ‘If the shoe fits, wear it’, as my dear wife used to tell me. Can’t say I spent wisely in my youth, either. But then, I have learned a thing or two in my old age. Anyway, the boy needs a grandpa and, last I checked, Scott hasn’t been around here much with that great grandboy of mine, has he?” Last time he brought the boy around, he nearly ran me in the grave. Four years old and thinks he’s a speed racer. That boy can tear through my hallway like lightning on that tricycle of his. Sure wish I had all that energy. Getting old, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t say that, Mr. Wade. You don’t look anywhere near your age. What are you, 29?”

“A gentleman never tells.”

“I know. And a Southern lady never asks, right?”

“You got it, Young Lady. Let’s just say, I’m old enough to be your gramps. I might as well be, long as I’ve known you. You called your father lately? You know he worries about you.”

“I know he does, now, but you just don’t know what he was like, Mr. Wade. As a father, I mean.”

“I know how he was, Margie, the whole town did. We just didn’t know what to do about it. You just didn’t pry back then, especially when he was a brother in the Shrine. We just managed him there, best we could. We all knew he made your momma’s life a livin’ hell. Yours too, I reckon.”

“When did you figure it out? I mean, how old was I when ya’ll noticed? I always thought he was the perfect citizen in town and just got mean around me and Momma.” Margo couldn’t shake the thought that people knew and still didn’t do anything. She loved Mr. Wade like he was her grandfather. How could he know and not do anything?

Mary and Alfred Wade lived next door to her parents as long as she could remember. Margo smiled when she heard him call her Margie. It was his pet name for her when she was young. He told her Margo was too old sounding for a little lady.

“You were eight, I believe. You remember starting piano lessons? I figured it out before you started the lessons. My wife offered to teach you piano lessons on Thursday afternoons and then feed you dinner. Remember that? You even spent the night a few times.”

“Yeah, I think I do remember that. Wow, it’s been a long time. Wish I hadn’t quit taking lessons. It was always something I regretted as I got older.”

Mr. Wade looked at her with a puzzled look on his face. “You didn’t quit, Hon, your dad refused to let you come over for months after I confronted him about his drinking. I did try, you see, but it backfired and ended up hurting you. We only did the lessons and dinner to get you out of the house the nights he came home drunk after the meetings at the lodge. My wife didn’t go much in the early days and she didn’t like to be alone when I was at the lodge. You two helped each other, just didn’t know it.”

“So why didn’t I start back after he calmed down?”

“I don’t reckon your father ever calmed down about money.” Remember when you used to quiz us about actresses named Margo? Your momma told you she named you after an actress, but never told you the actress’s whole name or what movie she was in. Your dad got furious every time Sarah spent money on useless clothing or took you to the movies. He figured he would punish her by not letting her spend money to pay for music lessons for you. Only, he wouldn’t accept charity either. He told me he would let you come eat once a week, but if he caught Mary giving you lessons again, the visits would stop altogether. We believed him and didn’t want you to lose that little ounce of peace you got once a week.”

“What did momma say to that? She always talked like I decided to quit, and how disappointed she was that I never had an interest in music or show business. Mr. Wade, my mother was an odd woman, wasn’t she? I remember her being so wrapped up in her fantasy life, she hardly noticed I was there.”

“Baby, don’t judge her too much. You just don’t know what kind of damage he did to her free spirit. That girl belonged in Hollywood, not being knocked around by an angry man. She had talent, you know. She really could have gone somewhere. Bet you didn’t know that, did you?”

“You knew my mom before she married my dad? I thought you guys moved in about the time I was born.”

“Oh, you’re right about when we moved back, but Mary was raised here and we lived here for a short time after we were married. She used to give piano lessons at a private finishing school for girls not far from here. Your mother was a student of hers when she was just about 9 or so. I was in the military, stationed out of this very post, back when it really was still a military post. I was overseas quite often, made it my career, you know. Mary gave piano lessons before our sons were born and when they were babies, just to make some extra spending money. My salary paid the bills but not much else. Your mother was her star pupil. She used to brag about her when we were dealing with your father and having you over for dinner. She felt a certain obligation toward you both. Your mother was like a daughter to her, especially when I was overseas.”

“Why did she marry my father then, if she had such a promising career in music?”

“I guess you’ll have to ask your father that question. We moved away when I got promoted. We were sent to Georgia for a few years and then I retired. We moved back and bought the house next to yours just before you were born. Mary threw your mother a baby shower. I do remember that. Your daddy was handsome, polite, and knew how to work the room. Seemed a good match, or at least, we thought so back then.”

Margo was startled when the door was thrown open, and two sweaty boys ran into the kitchen with a paper bag they had just pulled from Aidan’s backpack.
“Here mom, Mr. Wade said we could keep the change, right Mr. Wade?”

“Sure, young man, thanks for the delivery. Have you boys spent the money yet?”

“No sir, Mr. Wade. You said to bring the donuts by the house before you had to leave for church, so that’s what did, sir.”

“What’s your name, young man? Your daddy in the military? I don’t hear many kids nowadays say sir.”

“My name’s Luke, sir. My step-daddy used to be in the Marines, but he’s just an engineer now. He’s pretty cool, but he doesn’t play when it comes to saying sir.“

“Glad to hear that. Where are you boys going after you spend your money?”

“We’re going to my house, sir. Mom invited Aidan over for lunch and then we’ll just hang out at my house a while. I got some new water guns we’re gonna shoot.

“Now, get on out, boys. Mr. Wade and I haven’t finished our crossword.” Margo motioned with her wrist toward the door, shooing them out of the kitchen.
Oh, and Aidan, dinner at six. Be here by 5:30, okay. You have your watch on?”

“Yeah, I mean, Yes ma’am. See ya.” Both boys tore out of the house, leaving the front door wide open.

“Boys, the door. Were ya’ll both born in a barn?” Mr. Wade bellowed like a drill sergeant, not his usual voice. He was practicing for the Summer. His voice was enough to make Aidan stop cold in his tracks and return to shut the door…very cautiously.

Mr. Wade winked at Margo, “How’d I do, Margie. Do I sound stern enough to keep these boys in line this summer?”

“It’s a wonder the both of them didn’t wet their pants, Mr. Wade. You nearly scared me to death. Margo wondered what he did in the military. She realized that she had never really asked him that, in all these years, and he never volunteered either. Margo listened to the boys rush down the front steps and gather their bikes. Mr. Wades voice, much calmer now, brought her attention back to the matter at hand.

“Thirteen down, instigate. I’ll bet you five dollars I’m right.” He smiled and raised an eyebrow at her as he emptied a pack of sweetener in his second cup of coffee. He was always right. She wouldn’t waste her money on his bets. She didn’t have the money to lose.

“So, what did you want to tell me about? Something about the school shrink, oh, sorry, I mean the psychologist?”

“I just thought I would review his schedule for the daytime when I’m at work.
He likes to have lunch at the same time and he’s a picky eater. I’ll have some lunch food labeled in the fridge. And, he’s a stickler for routine. Oh, by the way, don’t get him started on King Arthur or weapons. If you do, he’ll spend the whole day fantasizing in his dream world or talk your ears off, neither one all that healthy for boy his age.”

“Aw, Margie, he’s a kid, a boy to boot. They do those kinds of things. I raised two sons and practically raised my grandson, Scott, too. You remember him? Aidan’s fine. Don’t you worry, you’ll see.”

Margo thought about Scott, her first love. Well, in her mind anyway. He was at least four years older than her and really didn’t give her the time of day after he became a teenager.

“Hon, I hate to break up our morning ritual but I’d better get on out and start walking. Have to serve in church this morning and I’d hate to let them down. I’ll stop back by this afternoon and we’ll talk about this schedule of yours some more and what the school said.”

“Alright, sounds good. But I have to tell you over dinner. Be here at six. You won’t regret it. I got a new recipe from one of the residents at the nursing home. She swears it will make the boys come swarming to my door. I though I would use you as a guinea pig before I invite trouble from the outside. Do you mind?”

“I may be old but I’m not senile. Mary’s been gone ten years and I miss her dearly, but if a good-looking woman offers me dinner and conversation, I’d be a fool to refuse.” Mr. Wade nodded his head in a mock gentlemanly bow and made his way out the door, a donut in one hand and his hat in the other.

Margo smiled as she thought of how empty her life would be without the camaraderie she had with Mr. Wade. She knew she never would have made it this far without his help. Now he was offering to watch her son, free of charge, for a few dinners a week. Something she had already been doing on Sundays and Wednesdays since she moved into the duplex.

With a few hours before she expected Aidan and Luke to be crashing through the door, hungry bellies growling, she decided to take a few minutes for herself. This was something that Aidan’s psychologist had suggested. She turned on the bathwater and returned to the kitchen to wash out the mugs. She grabbed the last donut and the book she ordered on Asperger’s Syndrome. Margo knew the bath would relax her, despite the reading material. She hated to admit her son was different, but was relieved that this thing that made him so different had a name. And its name wasn’t Margo.

(3187 wds - Finished 6-9-08)