Pam didn't contact me for a while after finding out I had floated some money to Christine. I sensed that this prolonged period of silence was colored by a little more animosity and pointedness than her standard periods of not being in contact with her father, although it didn't last all that long in the end, as I got a call yesterday.
"Dad, I'm at work, and I need you to pick Cayden up at school. He's being suspended."
"What?" I gasped, "Why?" Being that I knew that Cayden is, in reality, a grown man (who has his flaws but is generally more or less a model citizen) I had to wonder what this could be about. Fighting? Talking back?
"I don't know the details," she huffed, "They said they couldn't tell me over the phone."
Pam was at least able to say that nobody -- not Cayden or anyone else -- was in any physical peril, which put my mind at ease, but still caused me to wonder. I got to the Principal's office and identified myself as the boy's grandfather, authorized guardian, etc. The Vice Principal -- an older woman (well, I guess that's relative ... older than I used to be, younger than I am now) -- took me into her office and sat me down at her desk. She looked serious but not, I suppose, grave.
"I'm trying to be delicate here, Mr. Levesque, because it's not funny, and of course it does happen from time to time, but the situation cannot go unaddressed."
"What situation is that?"
"Cayden was found... abusing himself in the restroom."
I don't know what my face would have looked like then, but I would guess it to be a mixture of aghast, confused, and a little intrigued.
"Abusing himself? You mean he was..." she looked at me, nodding along, as if she couldn't say it but I had to: "Masturbating?"
"That's right," she said, trying to retain her prim and proper posture. "Kids will be kids, of course, but they do need to be told that there's a time and a place for that sort of thing."
"Of course," I said. The shock was wearing off now and I was trying not to find the whole thing funny.
"You said someone found him," I went on, "In the restroom?"
"Yes, he had, erm... neglected to lock the stall. Whether on purpose or out of... negligence..." I could tell it was paining her to have this conversation, which only made it more amusing to me. I covered my face and snickered into my hand. "The child who found him has been offered counselling, and we've decided to suspend Cayden for the remainder of the day and tomorrow."
"This is really something you get suspended for?" I snorted. "Don't you think the embarrassment is enough?"
"Mr. Levesque, please, there is a code of conduct we expect all students to abide by."
"All right, all right, I'll take him home."
'Cayden' said nothing, staring at his shoes from the office back to the car. We got him buckled in and once we were alone, I asked, "Let's hear it."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, Pam is going to ask me what's up, so I need to at least hear your side of the story."
He let out a very adult grunt, then went on. "Miss Hastings. She's a young teacher, maybe twenty-five, and she's quite... curvaceous."
"Uh huh?"
"'Uh huh' what?"
"Well, how did that lead to...?"
"Do I have to draw you a diagram? You were a straight man in a previous life, right?"
"Right, right..." I said, keeping my eyes on the road, "I'm just looking for insight. I wouldn't have expected this, given you're... well, your age."
"Oh, come on," he huffed, "Let's not be naive. Lots of eleven-year-olds are capable of that, they just don't know it and have no reason to try."
"You're right, you're right," I allowed.
"I've tried to ignore it," he went on, "But you know how it is. You can want to ignore it all you want, but your body has other ideas. It demands you give in to impulse. I had already spent half a day in agony, how much longer should I have held out?"
"Until you got home, at least!" I chuckled.
"It's never been a problem before."
"It's happened before?"
"For weeks now!" he said, as if it should have been obvious. "I keep telling myself I'll stop, but then I remember that it's one of the few outlets I have available to me."
"This is just the first time you got caught."
"I was careless," he muttered.
"And the boy that found you... I'm struggling to figure out why he had to go get the Principal involved."
"Because it was a girl," John grunted.
"Excuse me?"
"The only bathroom available was the single-use one. Gender-neutral. I was in such haste I forgot to lock it."
"You traumatized that poor girl," I said.
"She didn't see anything, I just left in a hurry, and she spotted some of the leftovers and asked someone what it was. Honestly, they need to be teaching that in school, that's something I'll always believe."
"Unbelievable, unbelievable..." I muttered, pulling into the driveway of his house.
"No, what's unbelievable is Miss Hastings in a tight sweater," he said, laughing under his breath slightly despite himself.
It was beginning to feel like we were -- borderline -- friends, something we actually never were. This is the most like equals we have ever felt, and I could sense that his wall of hatred toward me was becoming that much thinner.
"Hey," I said, "Wanna get some ice cream or something?"
"I'm a 50-year-old man, but... yeah, actually." So I backed back out of the driveway and headed down the road.
(When we got there, he hemmed and hawed analytically over the flavors. The college-aged girl behind the counter said he was a cute kid, and I allowed that yeah, he was like a 50-year-old man in a kid's body. He got pralines n' cream and I got rocky road.)
Over waffle bowls, he asked, "So, you and this Christine woman...?"
"Let's just say you have a more active lovelife than I do."
"Oh, come on," he said, "I know there's something there."
"Maybe," I said, "But I wouldn't want to break a hip."
"Could be worth it," he shrugged.
A few quiet bites later, he said abruptly, "I don't want to go back."
I stared dead at him. "Excuse me?"
"I don't mean I want to stay as Cayden, I mean I don't want to go back to being John. Come on, Ryan-- or Marc, or whatever your name is -- you've been an old man for months now. I wasn't in my 70's, but my life felt like it was just about over. Now I've been reinvigorated. I don't want to be a kid anymore but I don't see how I can go back to being my old self."
"Hm," I leaned on my elbow.
"Hm what?"
"It's just interesting. You had a good life. Why not go back to it?"
He looked down into his ice cream. "I think you know the answer to that, or you wouldn't have brought me here in the first place."
I took a big sigh. "I guess I was hoping to inspire you, to go back to living your life... more truthfully. Or reconcile it somehow. Make necessary changes, or get it all out of your system. It definitely wasn't my intention that you never go back to being John."
"But that was always a possibility -- that was a risk you were willing to take... a liberty with my body, by the way."
"Yes," I nodded along, "John, when I took you to the Inn, I abdicated my sense of logic and I've regretted it ever since."
"No, it was smart," he said, his voice creaking. "You saw what was going on with me and you-- I mean hell, if I knew this place existed I would have run toward it years ago, consequences be damned. I think I just resent you making the choice for me, but from what I understand, informed consent is impossible with the Inn. Okay. I know I won't be Cayden forever... believe me, I'm glad of that, but I don't see how I can go back to being John."
"Give it time, okay?" I said. "We still owe Ed and Cayden their bodies back and as far as I'm concerned that means we go back to being Ryan and John."
"Well, why don't you be John? Stay as long as you like. It'll be nice to settle down. Despite what I said, I'm sure there's a few good years left there."
"Because Ryan still needs his body back too."
"And you don't trust me?"
"I'm cleaning up my own messes, John."
"He said to the mess..." John said, his eyes shifting. Then he actually smiled, as if he had gotten some resolution from the conversation.
We drove back to the house. I told him I couldn't control what he did with the knowledge that the Inn exists, but I admonished him to listen to his conscience. There are people who care about him and that he professes to care about.
"That didn't matter to you when you took me."
"Temporary insanity... and a calculated risk."
"Liberties again," he shrugged. "But you're not wrong, and I hate that. God, just imagining having this conversation with Ryan, no wonder he was irresistible. To John, that is. Cayden... I don't think goes that way."
"No, we have evidence," I chuckled.
We pulled up and I dropped him off and we sent "Cayden" to his room while I filled Pam in on the story (or at least, a tactfully edited version of it). She was moderately scandalized that her little boy was growing up so fast, "I mean, first I catch him reading Stephen King novels, and now this."
"Yeah," I laughed, "He's full of surprises."
I stayed for dinner. We pointedly did not discuss Christine. It was nice.
-Marc
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