The next day, Declan was called to the principal’s office and asked to account for his violent behavior. “I will not tolerate fighting at this school,” said Mr. Taylor. “There is no excuse for the injury you’ve done to Dybinski. You broke the boy’s nose and he had to go to the hospital in Sechelt.”
“He had it coming,” said Declan.
“Fighting is no way to solve a problem,” said Mr. Taylor.
Declan said nothing.
“Is it now?” said Mr. Taylor tilting his head, waiting for an answer.
“Yes,” said Declan angrily. “It is. Sometimes that’s all there is left.”
Mr. Taylor gave him five detentions to be served picking up litter around the school. “If there’s any further fighting, Declan, I will have to suspend you.”
“So suspend me!” Declan sneered, slamming the door as he left.
He was suspended for five days.
“I’ve had a call from the school,” Kate said to Declan that evening after dinner. They were all sitting in the living room. Her voice was flat and hard. “It was the principal, Mr. Taylor. You’ve been suspended for a week. You’ve sent a boy to hospital. And they say you’re doing no classwork.” She turned her eyes to the ceiling. “I said a prayer to the Holy Virgin that the boy will be all right.”
“It was only a broken nose,” said Ana.
Kate sucked in her breath. “Only a broken nose!”
“Now, Juno,” said Matthew, “there’s no need . . . “
“You needn’t Juno me, Matthew Doyle,” said Kate angrily, jumping up from the wing chair and throwing a sweater around her shoulders. She sat down again, her face flushed with anger.
Declan was surprised at Ana speaking up for him: she had been cool to him ever since the fight.
“You were fighting?” said Matthew to Declan.
Ana spoke up again. “Everyone thinks the boy deserved it. He really did. He’s a big bully, three years older than Declan and a ton heavier. Everyone says he’s been giving Declan a bad time ever since he started school.” Ana flashed Declan a tilted, apologetic smile. “So it wasn’t Declan’s fault.”
Kate said quickly, “Bully or not, there was no need to break the boy’s nose!”
“Nobody feels sorry for him,” said Ana. “He had . . . “
Kate said, “Please go to your room, Ana, or go outside. Take Thomas with you. Matthew and I would like to speak to Declan alone for a minute.”
Ana pulled a face, but got up and went to fetch her jacket.
When Ana and Thomas had gone outside, Kate turned to Declan, and said sharply, “You made a deal that you’d go to school! You’ve been there barely five minutes, and already you’re to miss a week! What kind of a bargain is that?” She sat upright in her chair, arms folded, jaw clenched. To Declan, she looked more formidable than the school principal.
“I can’t help it if . . .“
“Don’t give me that ‘I can’t help it’ excuse! You were rude and disrespectful to Mr. Taylor. Isn’t that right?”
Declan was silent for a moment. He looked at Matthew, but saw no help there. He said to Kate, “He made me lose my temper.”
“Mr. Taylor made you lose nothing,” said Kate impatiently. “The fault was your own, Declan!”
The room was full of shadows. But Declan could see the anger and concern in Kate’s clear blue eyes, and it was if he were looking into his mother’s eyes, and he couldn’t understand why he felt like crying.
Kate waited until her anger subsided, then she spoke slowly and firmly. “You will go back to the school tomorrow, Declan, and you will go straight to Mr. Taylor’s office, and you will apologize to that man for your rudeness. Then you will ask him if you may be allowed to accept the punishment he first gave you, before you were so disrespectful.”
“It was to pick up trash around the outside of the school!” Declan was indignant. “I’m no trash collector! They would all see me and laugh!” He appealed to his uncle with open hands and staring eyes.
Matthew said nothing.
“You made a bargain,” said Kate. “If you must pick up trash so you can keep that bargain, then pick up trash you must.”
Declan appealed silently again to his uncle.
“Kate is right,” said Matthew.
Declan stood. “All right,” he said to Kate. “I’ll do it. But what if Mr. Taylor won’t change his mind? I’ll have to stay off the week.”
Kate’s face softened. “Mr. Taylor is a fair-minded man. If you control your temper, Declan, and you are open and honest with him, then I see no reason why he’d let you miss school.”
Thomas came clumping in from the outdoors, and threw himself into Declan’s chair
Matthew insisted on examining Declan’s head to make sure there was no serious injury from the fight. “Anyone would think you were a rutting stag,” he said.
Declan brushed the hair out of his eyes.
Matthew pressed. “Does that hurt?”
“No.”
Matthew looked at him, his sad face longer and sadder than usual, if that were possible. “The Bible says if someone strikes us we should turn the other cheek,” he said quietly. Kate, talking now with Thomas, was not listening. Matthew pressed again.
“Here?”
“Ouch! No. The Bible also says an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” whispered Declan. “If you let people walk all over you, then you’re a coward and a slave. It’s easy to see why you ran away from the Irish struggle for freedom.”
Matthew finished his examination. “Your head seems to be in one piece.”
Thomas wanted Matthew to examine his head also. He sat on Matthew’s lap. When Matthew declared him to be in one piece, he slid down and threw his arm affectionately around Declan’s shoulders, and smiled with happiness, and pulled him by the sleeve, wanting Declan to go with him.
“He wants to show you his things,” said Kate.
Declan followed Thomas upstairs to his room. It was the one with the Superman wallpaper. Thomas pulled an old suitcase from under his bed. He opened the case and started to take things out and hand them to Declan for inspection and approval. There was a green Sesame Street doll which took up most of the room in the box, several Superman and Batman comics, a handful of colored marbles and a plastic soldier in khaki uniform and helmet, thrusting forward with his rifle and bayonet. The helmet had a strap and could be taken off.
“An English soldier,” said Declan, “doing his dirty work.”
Thomas caught the tone of disapproval in Declan’s voice and looked disappointed.
“But it’s good to have,” said Declan, smiling. “You can always piss in his helmet.”
“Huh-uh?”
“In his hat.” Declan made a gesture.
Thomas laughed. “Pissss!” Trying out the new word. Then he took out of his suitcase a long white goose feather. He stroked Declan’s cheek gently with the feather. Declan took the feather and tickled Thomas under the chin. Thomas giggled.
When Thomas had shown Declan all his things, he closed the suitcase and pushed it back under his bed. Then Declan showed Thomas the gold ring on his finger and told him it had been his ma’s. “It’s the only thing I have that I can show you, Thomas,” he told him.
“I was proud of you today, Declan.” Tilted smile.
“You were?”
“Carrying that big plastic sack around and picking up everyone’s garbage, and not saying anything, and whenever anyone laughed or made fun, you took no notice. You looked . . . “ Ana thought for a second. “ . . . kind of dignified, I thought. You really did.”
They were walking home. The school bus had dropped them off at the general store.
The sun shone, but the air had a little of the feel of fall. Declan carried only one book, The Chrysalids, which he had picked up in his English classroom because it looked interesting. By contrast, Ana’s satchel was heavy with books.
“These books are heavy,” said Ana.
“Is that a hint?” Declan took her satchel and slung it over his shoulder. “Here, you can bloody-well carry mine.” He handed her his book.
Ana laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was thinking about Thomas. Kate is annoyed at you for teaching him bad words.”
“There was only one, and it wasn’t so bad.”
“You’ll have to tell it in confession along with all your other sins,” Ana said lightly.
“I don’t go to confession. I’ve finished with all that.”
Ana said, “I go at least once a month; I like it.”
“I don’t believe most of the blather the priests tell us anyway,” said Declan. “All that codology about heaven and damnation, hellfire and eternal punishment. I believe it even less since . . . “ He stopped. “I don’t think there are any punishments or rewards, but if there are, then they’re here in this life, that’s what I believe.”
“I believe in heaven,” said Ana. “Whenever I think of my real parents, I always think of them as being in heaven.”
Declan said, “Real parents? What . . .“
But he didn’t have time to speak further. Thomas came quickly to meet them as he often did, running in his slow, heavy way. The bus from his special school got home a little earlier most days. He called out their names, happy to see them, and rushed at Declan and wrestled him. Declan enjoyed his tussles with Thomas who was surprisingly strong and courageous. They kept it up all the way to the house.
Later, Declan and Ana sat out on the porch in the sunshine.
Declan blurted out, “What did you mean about your real parents? I thought my uncle and aunt were your parents.”
“Huh?” Ana’s mouth fell open. “Matthew and Kate are not my parents—not my real ones, that is—I thought you knew that!”
Declan frowned. “How would I know if nobody told me?”
“They should have told you. Perhaps they thought you knew.”
“And you’re not my cousin?”
“Then who in God’s name are you then?” Declan felt a little angry. Why hadn’t they said? Was it possible they’d told him the day he arrived? Maybe his uncle had mentioned it when they were driving to Otter Harbour; he remembered very little of that first day.
“I’m an orphan,” said Ana, “same as you. Matthew and Kate took me in when my father was killed in a logging accident six years ago. I don’t remember my mother; she died when I was a baby.”
“And Thomas is not your brother?”
“No.”
“But why Matthew and Kate?”
“My father and Matthew worked together logging.” She pointed. “Over on the other side of the mountain.” Ana shrugged. “I had nobody else. Matthew just came for me, that’s all I know.”
“What about the eejit?”
“The what?”
“Thomas. The idiot. We call them eejits in Ireland.”
Anna flushed angrily. “That’s a terrible thing to call a person. And Thomas is not an idiot! He was born with Down’s syndrome! And he’s one of God’s children, just like you. And he’s wonderful and I love him. And Matthew and Kate love him too. And if you think . . . “
“Hold on there! I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sorry. I like Thomas too. You sure get mad over nothing.”
“I do not get mad over nothing. You’re so cruel sometimes. Thomas is . . . “ She clenched her fists as if about to strike him.
“Ana, I said I’m sorry. You’re right. But I don’t mean to be cruel. I’m sorry.” He put his arm around her shoulders, but she shook it off. “Look, what do you want? You want me on my knees, begging for forgiveness?”
Ana was so upset, tears started in her eyes. “Declan, sometimes you’re such a jerk! You make me . . . “
Declan glowered in silence.
“You get me so mad sometimes, I could . . . I could scream!”
Declan said nothing until she became a little calmer. Then he said, “So tell me about Thomas.”
“Promise never to use that ugly word again.”
“I promise.”
“Matthew and Kate adopted him too, right?”
“It’s the same story almost,” said Ana. “Kate told me. He was left on the steps of the chapel. Nobody knows who his mother is.”
Declan shook his head in disbelief.
“Father O’Connor was new in the parish then, and didn’t know what to do with a tiny, newborn baby wrapped in a blue blanket, so he asked the repairman, who happened to be there in the rectory fixing the plumbing, what he thought he should do, and Matthew—that’s who it was of course—took a look at the baby and said it would be hard to find a home for a child who’d been touched by the fairies . . . “
“Touched by the fairies? Matthew said that?”
“According to Kate, yes. I had to ask what it meant. Anyway, Matthew took the baby home to Kate, and she called him Thomas after somebody-or-other, and now this is his home.”
Declan frowned and shook his head again in disbelief. “I bet Miss Ritter’s another one! Her house burned down, right?”
Ana nodded. “She lost everything she owned. She forgot to buy insurance. She had nowhere to go, and Matthew . . . “
“Matthew and Kate took her in,” Declan finished for her. “They’re both people fixers! I knew it. That deal we made. They think they can fix me so I won’t want to go back home. Well Matthew and Kate Bloody Doyle are not going to fix me, let me tell you, not me, not Declan Doyle!” He flung himself from the porch and down to the yard. “I’m no TV set that needs fixing! I wasn’t left on any chapel steps for those two phony interfering fixers to find me!”
“Declan!” cried Ana. “Where are you going?”
“That’s my business!” he yelled back as he headed for the beach.
He stayed down on the beach, sitting on the rocks, until it was almost dark, his head a wild ravel of thoughts. Those meddling fixers had forced him to come to this foreign country. What right had they to make such a decision for him? Now they had talked him into making a deal with the intention of fixing him like the others—Ana and Thomas and Miss Ritter. Well, they would not trap him in their sly web with their clever smiles and coaxing ways. He would have no part of them and their world. So long as he didn’t feel part of their world, he wasn’t.
His uncle found him. “Kate has your dinner in the oven.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Come on up anyway. The wind is cold.”
“Leave me alone.”
Matthew left him.
By the time he returned, Ana and Thomas had gone to bed, and he could see his aunt and uncle in the living room, watching TV.
“Is that you, Declan?” Kate asked.
“Goodnight.” He did not stop, but, shivering with the cold, went straight up the stairs to his room.