The Archangel Drones (15 page)

“I hate to break up the party,” she smiled, “but I’ve got to help Jacob get ready. He’s got a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, and we can’t be late.”

“I understand, Mrs. Chase,” Manny replied, leaning over to kiss Jacob’s cheek. “If it’s okay, I’ll come back tomorrow after school. My parents said it would be fine.”

“Of course, Manny. You’re welcome in our home any time, sweetie.”

This is going to take time
, Manny thought, rising to leave Jacob’s side.
I’ll stay with him. I’ll help him heal. He needs me more than anyone has ever needed me before. I’ll be there.

The week that followed was a whirlwind of never-ending doctors’ visits, labs, and x-rays. The most welcome break in the medical regiment was Manny’s daily appearance to help Jacob keep abreast of his schoolwork.

Jacob seemed to be taking it all in stride, but both Gabe and Sandy slowly began to realize that their son’s demeanor was a façade, a calm surface cloaking the troubled waters below.

The first clue to his psychological disturbance was the change in his appetite. Normally a voracious eater, Jacob picked and poked at his favorite dishes. Slices of pepperoni pizzas were barely touched; bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches often returned without a single bite mark scarring the bread.

At first, the couple wrote it off to the pain medications polluting their son’s stomach and suppressing his desire for food. That excuse quickly faded as Jacob’s need for the narcotics waned.

Already thin, with practically no body fat due to the demands of athletic conditioning, the weight loss began to show badly on his once impressive frame. Sandy noticed the sunken eyes first, Gabe commenting on his son’s protruding ribs. He grew more and more lethargic, the light behind Jacob’s eyes dimming a little more each day.

Finally, the time came for the psychologist’s assessment, the renowned therapist recommended by Adam as a specialist in post-traumatic stress syndrome. Jacob protested vehemently, displeased that the scheduled appointment would delay his daily visit with Manny.

Trying to help her injured boyfriend through the riff, Manny had done her part to counter Jacob’s grumbling. Inviting a select few of his friends, she organized an afternoon session of hanging out. The concept seemed to brighten the depressed, young man. Both Sandy and Gabe cursed themselves for not having thought of it earlier.

On the way back from the introductory session with the shrink, Jacob called Manny to let her know he was heading home and that she and their friends could come over.

In the front, Gabe and Sandy pretended not to be eavesdropping, but couldn’t ignore the outburst that surged from the backseat.

“What do you mean you’re the only one coming by?” Jacob asked, disappointment thick in his tone.

There was a long pause while Manny responded, and then Jacob’s voice sounded deflated. “Oh. I see. Well, that’s okay, I guess. Are you still coming by?”

A few moments later, Sandy noticed her son was crying. “Jacob? What’s the matter sweetie? What’s wrong?”

It took him a minute to answer, the teen obviously struggling to control himself. “The other kids aren’t coming over. Manny didn’t come right out and say it, but her meaning was pretty clear. Their parents don’t want them associating with a criminal like me.”

“What?” Gabe exploded, his fury bleeding through more than he intended. “What the hell are you talking about, son?”

Jacob cowered, his father’s verbal eruption causing him to wilt. “It’s just what she said, Dad,” he responded meekly.

“I’m sure that’s not what she meant,” Sandy replied, her tone soft and filled with the honey of concern. “Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand?”

“I’m not sure I understand anything,” the whispered reply sounded from the backseat. “Nothing makes sense anymore.”

They arrived home, no one daring to say another word during the remainder of the trip. Jacob entered the house and immediately hobbled for his room, ignoring the trays of snacks his mother had set out in anticipation of having a house full of teenagers. Gabe called Chip.

“Yes, that’s exactly what has happened,” Manny’s father confirmed. “A bunch of kids were supposed to meet here, and then I was going to haul them over to your house in the minivan. I talked to several parents, and while most of them made up bullshit excuses, they finally admitted they were worried about their teens hanging out with Jacob. I’m sorry, Gabe, but that’s the truth.”

“That’s bullshit!” Gabe fumed, not believing anyone could possibly think of Jacob as an undesirable influence. “That’s not fair, Chip. How could they?”

“I’m sorry… I truly am. But I have to tell you, there’s been more than one parent ask me why I am not worried about Manny still seeing Jacob. People talk, Gabe. Stories grow; rumors abound. It will settle down and get back to normal once the facts start coming out. This will all blow over.”

“If Jacob makes it that long,” he blurted before realizing what he’d said. “Thanks, Chip. I do appreciate your being up front with me.”

Like a stormy sea crashing against the bulwark, the next blow to roll over the Chase home was delivered via the U.S. mail. Gabe had no doubt regarding the envelope’s contents, hesitating to open the cover that surely conveyed even more bad news.

“Wow, I guess I had not expected this letter to be here so quickly,” Gabe acknowledged, rubbing his temples to alleviate the budding tension headache. “Sandy and I will have to put on our parental thinking caps… somehow prepare him for this blow,” he whispered. He tossed the letter on the kitchen counter alongside the weekly mailers, coupon bundles, and other paper-wasting junk, then headed to the bathroom for something to stop the pounding in his skull.

During his return trip to the kitchen, Gabe’s cell rang, his phone’s display verifying it was his office calling. The owners of the small engineering firm had been the most understanding employers anyone could hope for, trying their best to contact him only if there was a critical need. But Gabe was acutely aware that losing his job was not a luxury his middle-class family could afford right now. Luckily, this call was quick, only distracting him for a minute or so.

He completed the call, returning to open the letter. It had vanished. “Sandy, did you notice a letter from Jacob’s college sitting here?” he asked.

“Yeah, I noticed it was addressed to Jacob, so I took it up to his room.”

She realized the mistake instantly after the blood drained from her husband’s face, wringing both of her hands as he rushed past toward the stairs. “Oh no… I didn’t think…, Oh, good Lord, what have I done,” she whispered.

Gabe took the steps two at time, but he was too late. Jacob was in his usual position, leg and head elevated by mountains of pillows. The letter rested on his stomach, tears streaming down his cheeks.

With urgency, Gabe rushed to his son, pushing the “
We regret to inform you
,” letter aside and cradling the distraught teenager’s head. “I’m sorry Jacob, I didn’t mean for you to open that alone. We both knew the college was going to cancel your scholarship, son. They really didn’t have much choice.”

“I know,” he wept. “But I thought it would be because I couldn’t play ball,” he managed between sobs. “That letter says I was disqualified for admission because of my arrest. They think I am a criminal, Dad.”

Gabe continued to hold his son, wondering when the world was going to give Jacob Chase a break.  

Jacob had already amassed enough credits to graduate from high school, but state law required every student to earn a passing grade in certain prerequisite classes in order to walk the stage and collect his sheepskin. The irony of their son having to pass a course in government and civics wasn’t lost on the Chases.

He’d been doing okay working from home, but there were certain aspects of the mandatory class that required a face-to-face interaction with the instructor.

Mr. Ballymore had been kind and flexible on previous occasions, even coming by the house for an hour to make sure Jacob met the requirements. Today, however, the teacher’s schedule only allowed the meeting to occur during the last period – at the school.

Sandy had been unsure about taking Jacob into the building, his mood unpredictable, his strength waning. After consulting with Manny, she decided to raise the topic and evaluate his reaction before committing to the course of action. Her son had agreed, noting it would be good to get out of his bedroom. “Don’t be such a worrywart, Mom. Ya know, cabin fever can mess with a guy’s head, too,” Jacob teased. “Besides, it will be nice to see my old stomping grounds.” A brief smile engaged the teen’s lips, before his final remark. “Consider it therapy.”

Since the canceled gathering at the house, Sandy knew Jacob had been avoiding social media. It was a tall order for a teenager, and a sure sign of her son’s ever-deepening isolation.
Maybe he’s right. Seeing the other kids could help break down the wall of ice he’s building around himself
, she thought. 

They arrived at the main entrance, Jacob taking it all in without comment. He was more skilled with his crutches now, able to keep up with her normal gait. They entered the building, proceeding to the attendance desk to sign in both student and parent.

Sandy harbored hope that they might run into one of her son’s friends or teammates while they were there, and that the encounter would help Jacob come out of his self-imposed shell. However, their interaction with the receptionist had taken a little longer than planned. The bell rang, signaling the change in classes before mother and son could make their way down the hall.

Hundreds and hundreds of students poured simultaneously from the classrooms, rushing through the crowded space, slamming lockers while ongoing conversations filled the packed hallways. But all of that changed the moment the kids noticed Jacob. Sandy couldn’t believe how rude the teens were, stopping all activity just to stare at her son as he passed. No one said a word, not one single person offering a greeting, smile, or even a nod.

At one point during the gauntlet, Jacob paused, staring longingly at another lanky lad sporting a basketball letterman’s jacket. Sandy recognized the youth as the team’s center, a friendly kid who was always hanging around with her son after practices and games.

“Hey Kip. What’s up?” Jacob said nicely. “Been a while, dude.”

The kid looked down with a frown, gave a curt nod, and then turned and walked away. Sandy couldn’t believe it, but Jacob seemed to take it in stride.

They entered the empty classroom, Mr. Ballymore nowhere to be found. Jacob took a seat, ready to wait for the tardy teacher.