A Marine Called Jason
(Revised)
by: Peter

(© 2007-2015 by the Author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 83
The Boys in School 

Summer ended and it was time to enroll the boys in school.  Both Melissa and her mother offered to take the boys to school.  I was surprised and amused that Jason was the first to decline their offer. At the school, we were only two of four men in the lines to register our kids.

“I see you got stuck with the job of registering, too,” one of the men said to us.

“I’m a single parent, but I’m not stuck with it,” Jason said.

At the registration table we both pulled up chairs. Jason handed Devon’s birth certificate to the lady first.

“Do you have a certificate of pre-school completion?” she asked.

Jason frowned and glanced at me, then looked back at the woman.  “No, he’s just starting school.”

“Your son is six years old; he was never enrolled in preschool?” she asked.

“I brought him back from Vietnam, I don’t think they had preschool over there,” Jason said, with a little sarcasm.

She scowled as she studied the birth certificate then stood and excused herself.  She came back with another lady who took the other chair on the other side of the table.

“Mr. Seaborne, we really should enroll your son in pre-school before entering him in first grade,” the second woman said.

“Why?”

“Well, he would be at a disadvantage with the other children who already have a year of schooling.”

“He’s been disadvantaged all his life, he can catch up,” Jason said.

By her doubtful look, she was not convinced.

“What is pre-school, anyway?” Jason asked.  “If he’s in school, he’s in school, I don’t see anything pre about it. I just want him enrolled in first grade.”

“You would not be doing him a favor,” she said.

“He doesn’t need any favors. I would just be enrolling him in first grade,” Jason said.

I could hear the impatience in his tone and I was sure the women could as well. I think they realized he was going to be a tough nut to crack and they bowed to his wishes.  He made it easier for me to enroll Kyle.  I was noticing that Jason was okay around kids, but adults in general seemed to piss him off.

We were given a list of books and school supplies.  We bought the books at the school’s bookstore. There was a list of places in town where we could buy supplies.

“Damn, they expect a six year old to do all of this? I never had this many books when I was in high school,” Jason said of the stack of books and workbooks.

We hired a sitter/maid to look after the boys every day till we got home from work.  We didn’t want to put that burden on any of the family. Sylvia was a middle-aged woman, slightly overweight, with an easy smile and an easier laugh, and she loved the boys.  Loved them but didn’t let them get out of line. 

We got our first notices of teachers meetings the second week of school; a get-acquainted function held in the evening when most parents could attend. Jason asked me if I was going.

“Yes, we’re going,” I said emphatically.

“Oh, Lord,” he said, laughing.  “What did I get myself into?”

“Fatherhood,” I said.

Once he was exposed to it, I was surprised how Jason got into the boys' schooling, and being a father in general. I could sense some curiosity on the part of others about two big, masculine guys with young sons, and no women in the picture.  Some--a bold few--voiced their curiosity.  We told them our wives were dead and that we’d met at a support group.  No one verbalized the unasked questions about Jason and I being together every time. At the second teachers meeting, Jason was hit on by one of the mothers.  That was funny. 

The boys adjusted well and did well in school. But the teacher voiced her concern that they were extremely close and could hardly bear to be separated on the playground.  She suggested to the principal that one of them be assigned to the other first grade classroom, and we got a note to that effect.

I didn’t like the idea.  Jason was pissed.  Like I said, he was very impatient with adults.  But we talked to the boys about it first and asked if they didn’t think it might be a good idea so they could make more new friends.  They started crying.

“Do you want to handle this, or do I?” Jason asked.

“You can handle it, but I’m going with you,” I said.

We met with the teacher, Mrs. Halperin, and the principal, Mr. Clark.  When Mr. Clark began to explain the plan, Jason stopped him cold.

“No,” he said, very emphatically.  “They need to stay together.”

“Mr. Seaborne, we really think it would be best for……”

“No,” Jason said again, this time with his hand up in a warning gesture, and that I’m-warning-you-don’t-fuck-with-me look on his face. “You need to understand that we took these boys out of an orphanage, in a place where American blood was scorned.”  

“We understand, but eventually……,” Mrs. Halperin started to say.

“No, Ma’am, you don’t understand.”  He instantly realized how curt he’d been and he leaned back in his chair with a sigh.  “Mrs. Halperin, we have an eight room house, with four bedrooms, and we thought that Kyle and Devon, like all boys, would want their own rooms. But they didn’t want to be apart.  So we bought bunk beds and put them in the same room.  They both slept in the same bunk.  They need each other, because deep down in their little souls, they still believe that each other is all they’ve got.  So do not separate them.”  It wasn’t a request or a plea; it was an order.

“All right,” Mrs. Halperin said.  “I guess I didn’t fully understand. We will keep them together.  Perhaps next year we can assign them to different rooms.”

“Perhaps,” said Jason, with a tone that left no doubt that he would be the one to decide.

We were walking back to the Jeep. 

“Well, I thought that went well,” Jason said.

“Yes, it did,” I said with a tight smile. 

“What the hell’s that smile about?” he asked.

“Just that they don’t realize how well it went,” I said. 

“That’s not all it’s about,” he said.

“No, it isn’t,” I said.  “You’re surprising me, Jason. You’re one hell of a dad.”

“So are you.  So why does it surprise you that I am?” 

“I don’t know. Being a dad is just so….so out of character for you.”

“Somehow I think being a dad is going to build character,”
 he said.

We had mentioned birthday parties on two of their earlier birthdays but they shied away from the idea. We weren’t sure why except that they were still very tight and we thought it might be that they thought nobody would come. We tried a different approach for their thirteenth birthdays. It was Jason’s idea to make it an all-school party and take the ponies to school for the kids to ride.  He talked privately with Scott Hendricks first to see if he thought the school would go along with it. After the ugly confrontation with Scott’s mother, Jenna Hendricks, over the skinny-dipping scandal he thought he might soften her up. She could have great sway over the school board and the principal.

She didn’t say no but she set down a lot of rules and conditions. We would have to provide complete insurance coverage for the event and hold the school and the board harmless.  We had no problem with that; we would take out event coverage. And she had approval over every aspect of the event. In return we asked for teachers and parent to volunteer to help keep the kids corralled.

I hired an ice cream truck to furnish frozen treats and found a party store to provide hats, balloons and party favors.  I tapped Melissa and Hunter to help with the rides, and Hunter would clean up after the horses.  As it gained momentum, some mothers came up with party games and even volunteered to make cupcakes.

The night before we took the boys to Burger King--always their choice—and gave Kyle a new St. Christopher medal and both boys shiny silver chains.  We also gave them the pajama pants we’d brought back from Vietnam. 

We made a big hit.  The kids loved the ponies, nobody got hurt and we let them feed and water the animals. The party was a grand success; the most fun event in memory several parents told us.  The boys made a big hit, too; they wore their pajama pants to the party.

As a return favor to Scott Hendricks for softening his mother up to the idea of the school party, we invited him and his son to a cookout and to go skinny dipping, as promised.

To be continued... 

Posted: 04/10/15 rp