It Takes All Kinds

Get Set…

Wednesday started out badly and went downhill from there.

The power had gone out sometime during the night, so the three members of the Kinney-Taylor household woke up late when their alarms failed to go off at the regular time. Brian, who had missed an early morning meeting, stormed around the loft, trying to speed everyone up. He was going to drop Gus off at school, since Justin had an appointment with a local art gallery that he could still make, if he hurried.

"Gus, get your butt downstairs and into the car-now!"

Gus was seated at the kitchen bar, trying to finish his breakfast when his dad bellowed from near the sliding door at the entrance to the loft. The boy glanced at his Pops and they both rolled their eyes. Laughing, Gus grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, Justin calling out behind him, "Have a good day at school, buddy."

The auburn haired boy decided it was in his best interest to stay quiet on the ride to school, so he spent most of the time staring out of the window. His dad quietly cursed every red light, drumming his fingertips impatiently on the Corvette's steering wheel.

Gus figured he had made it when they were about a block from the school and there hadn't been a major explosion-then he realized he had forgotten his backpack. He glanced sideways at his father, weighing his options. He could brave his dad's wrath and mention the backpack or risk getting marked down a grade when he handed his homework in late. Neither plan was very good, in his opinion.

He slowly drew in a deep breath and rushed his words, "Umm, Dad? Ikindaforgotmybackpackathome and Ineedmyhomework."

"What the…" Brian glared over at his son, who was trying to fade into the seat of the car. After he deciphered what his son had just said, he heaved an exasperated sigh, and turned the car around, heading back to the loft. With a curt, "Wait here," he exited the car and disappeared into their apartment building. He soon returned, carrying a lunchbox as well as Gus' backpack. He tossed both to Gus and growled, "Guess it was a good thing we came back-you would have wasted away to nothing without your lunch."

They retraced their earlier route and quickly arrived at the school. Brian jumped out and joined Gus on the sidewalk-since they were late, he had to sign Gus in. The two walked silently into the school's office, and after Brian completed the paperwork, he glanced over at the boy standing meekly beside him. He smiled faintly and, placing his hand on his son's shoulder, said, "Love you, Sonny Boy. Try to have a good day, okay? I'll see you after school. It'll just be you and me-Justin won't be home-so think about where you want to eat." With a final squeeze, he released Gus and left the school.

Gus watched until his father walked through the front doors, then puffing a soft sigh, he hoisted his backpack up onto one shoulder and turned toward his class. He hoped the day would improve, because he really didn't think it could get worse.

Morning classes flew by (being forty-five minutes late helped) and soon it was noon. Chatter erupted in the classroom when the lunch bell rang. Gus motioned to Rachel and they both headed to the cafeteria. As she gazed around the room, Rachel spotted Tommy and Stephen and asked Gus if he wanted to sit with them. He nodded and the two fourth-graders approached the seated boys.

"Hey Gus, Hi Rachel," Tommy greeted his friends. "Whatcha got for lunch?" He and Stephen already had their food spread out on the table.

"Give me a second, would ya? Pops packed it today and I haven't got a clue what he put in." Gus opened his lunchbox and the four children were soon deeply involved in the exacting task of bartering. Gus ended up with his own sandwich (peanut butter and blackberry jam on sourdough), Tommy's cheetos, Stephen's apple and Rachel's brownie. The others were equally satisfied with their choices and silence reigned for a while as lunch was consumed.

After they finished eating, the quartet began a very competitive tournament of tic-tac-toe. Gus was losing to Stephen when he realized there was only ten minutes left in the lunch period. Rising, he stated, "I need to talk to Mrs. Mitchell about this stupid project. I still don't have any clue what I am going to do for it."

He threw away his trash, picked up his lunchbox and with a cheery wave goodbye, started back to his room. Deep in thought, he wasn't paying attention as he scooted rapidly around the corner. BAM! He staggered back after slamming hard into another body, tripped over a shoelace and landed flat on his butt. His heart plummeted as he recognized who he had run into-Matthew Godwin. A quick thought crossed his mind, 'Shoot, I thought the day couldn't get any worse. Guess I was wrong!'

"Watch where you're going, moron," Matthew sneered as he watched Gus struggle to tie his shoe and collect his things. "God, what a loser you are, you jerk. Haven't your parents taught you anything-oh, that's right, they're too busy being fags."

"Leave me alone, Matthew. You don't know anything about my family-they're none of your business." Gus looked at his backpack and winced. The strap had broken in his fall.

"So tell me Gussy-poo, your dads sick yet? My dad said fags get AIDS and die-cause they deserve it."

Gus saw red. One minute he was standing there, examining his torn backpack; then next he had Matthew pinned against a locker. "TAKE THAT BACK!"

Momentarily stunned, Matthew recovered quickly and shoved the smaller boy away. As Gus stumbled backwards, Matthew's foot lashed out and caught him in the knee. The fifth-grader grabbed Gus as he collapsed from the pain, and before long the two boys were rolling around on the floor, punching and kicking each other with all their might.

"GUS PETERSON-MARCUS! MATTHEW GODWIN! STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!" Two beefy hands reached out and separated the boys, picking them up by their shirts. Gus immediately stopped struggling when he caught sight of Mr. Edison's face. The burly, grey-haired principal of their school had a reputation for being intolerant of violence. Almost immediately he had the two boys marching down the hall toward the office.

Gus was sent into the assistant principal's office to wait while the secretary contacted his father. A few minutes later, the door opened and both Mrs. Mitchell and Mr. Edison entered. Mr. Edison sat behind the desk and Mrs. Mitchell took the empty seat next to Gus.

Mr. Edison cleared his throat and began, "Gus, would you care to explain what was going on in the hallway between yourself and Matthew?"

"I… I wasn't paying attention and accidentally ran into him when I went around the corner. He started calling me names and saying mean things and I… well, I guess I got mad."

"Gus, I have to admit-I am surprised by your behavior. This isn't like you at all. Now, I want you to understand, we do not tolerate fighting here at Liberty Elementary. Normally the participants would be sent home and not allowed to return for two days. However, since this is your first offense, and because you only have two more days before a scheduled two-week absence, Mrs. Mitchell and I have decided you will be allowed to return to class."

Gus peeked at his teacher and gave her a grateful smile as Mr. Edison continued, "We have tried to reach your fathers, but haven't had any luck. Mr. Taylor's cell transferred to voice-mail and Mr. Kinney's assistant informed me he was unavailable for several hours. I left messages for both of them and will expect a conference with them, soon." Gus fidgeted under the steady gaze of his principal. "Do you have anything to add, Gus?"

"Umm, I guess. I want to say I'm sorry. I just kinda lost my temper-he's been picking on me for a while."

Mr. Edison nodded then said, "I want you to promise me something, Gus. If you're having trouble with another student, please talk to either Mrs. Mitchell or myself-no more fighting. Okay?"

Bobbing his head in agreement, Gus asked, "May I talk to Mrs. Mitchell for a minute? I was on the way there when I ran into Matthew…"

The two adults exchanged looks. Mr. Edison stood up and as he left, he reiterated, "Remember Gus, next time we won't be so lenient." The door closed softly behind him.

Mrs. Mitchell sat back in her chair and smiled, trying to make Gus more at ease. "So, Gus, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"I… ah… is there any way I can get a different subject for our project?"

The young teacher raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why?"

Gus sat up straight and launched into his argument, "Most of the kids in my class didn't know about my parents before we had to do our last project. Since I made my speech, there have been some mean things said about my dads. If I have to do this project, they'll only have more stuff to bug me about. That's why it's important to me to get a different topic." He shyly smiled at his teacher, hoping he had talked her into it.

"Is that what the fight was about today, Gus?"

"Sorta. Matthew's not very nice normally and today he said… umm… he wants my dads to get AIDS and die, cause he thinks they deserve it."

"No, that wasn't a very nice thing to say, was it?" Mrs. Mitchell nodded thoughtfully, then changed the subject, "Gus, why do you come to school?"

"Oh, that's easy. My dad and Pops make me," came the quick response.

The fourth-grade teacher chuckled, "Okay, I'll give you that one. Let me rephrase the question. Why do your parents send you to school-and no, the answer isn't to get rid of you for the day!"

Gus took a minute to think before answering, "Well, I guess to learn how to read, and how to do math and stuff. Right?"

"Yes, that's part of the reason-probably the greatest part. There are other reasons for school as well. You are exposed to new ideas every day, and many of those ideas come from your classmates. Do you ever learn things from the other kids-things you don't learn in class?"

"Yeah. Rachel showed me how to make puppets after she took a class last summer. Stephen taught me how to play chess and Tommy's always teaching us new songs."

"So you could consider your classmates teachers as well, right? Do you think you've ever taught anything to your friends?"

"Oh, sure. I help Rachel with her math all the time and I showed Tommy how to roller-skate last year."

"That's very nice of you. Now, let's talk about the project. You say that some of your classmates have been harassing you about your family and now you don't want to talk about them any more. Tell me, Gus, are you ashamed of your parents?" She cocked her head as she asked, trying to gauge his reaction.

"No way, Mrs. Mitchell. My dads are way cool."

She smiled at his passionate response. "In what ways are they cool?"

"Well… Dad's taught me about cars. He has this classic Corvette, and sometimes on Saturdays, we'll go riding around in it. He's also shown me how to play soccer. Did you know he used to play in college? He was really good, too. Let's see, he helps me with my homework, he owns his own company and he…"

Mrs. Mitchell laughingly said, "Okay, okay. I get the picture. Your dad is way cool. What about-what do you call him-your Pops?"

"Oh, Pops is the greatest. He is a wonderful artist-he's even had his own shows at a gallery. He does artwork for my dad's company, sometimes. He painted my bedroom like a racetrack and designed a special bed that looks like a racecar. He takes me to the zoo, and taught me how to swim and dance-my dad isn't a very good dancer and Pops said he wanted to make sure I was better. There are so many things that they both do for me-I can't even begin to tell you everything."

"They sound wonderful, Gus. You've told me just a little about them-how do you think your classmates would feel if they learned just how great your dads are? Do you think it might change their minds?"

"My Grandma Deb says that people fear and hate what they don't understand. Maybe if I show everyone how neat my dads are, then they won't be as scary to my friends. What do you think?"

"I think your Grandma Deb is a very wise woman, Gus. Do you feel better about the project now?"

Gus' eyes glowed as he enthused, "Oh yeah, Mrs. Mitchell, I sure do. Now I need to figure out how to show everyone. Guess I have a lot of work to do, huh?"

Mrs. Mitchell stood up and gestured toward the door, "I guess you do. Maybe we should head back to class so you can get started. Let's go."

Gus' enthusiasm began to fade the closer it got to the end of the school day. He had no idea how his dad was going to react to the news of his fight. After Mrs. Mitchell dismissed his class for the day, he slowly dragged himself out of the school to meet his father.

Brian was leaning against the hood of the Corvette, arms crossed. He frowned at the sight of his son making his way at a snail's pace toward him. As Gus drew nearer, he pushed off the car and stated, "I believe we have some talking to do, don't we?"

Gus mutely nodded and got into the front seat. After his dad climbed in and started the car, he cautiously asked, "So, I guess you talked to Mr. Edison, huh?" He looked at his dad's set face and swallowed hard.

"Yes, I had the joy of hearing from your principal as soon as I got out of my meeting. Imagine my surprise when I heard how you spent your day. Now, have you decided where you want to eat?"

"Umm, I was thinking about spaghetti, so how about Luigi's?" After his father nodded he continued, "Dad, I can explain…"

"Not now. We'll talk at the restaurant." Brian glanced over at his son and said, "Right now, I'm so angry with you that I think it's best if we don't talk. I'll probably cool down by the time we're eating. Okay?"

"Yes, Dad. I just want to say…"

"Na uh, Gus. No talking."

Gus was miserable as they silently drove to the restaurant. He had never seen his father this angry before. Normally his dad would blow up, yell a bit, then after saying his piece, act as if nothing had happen. Gus had never been subject to the silent treatment and he figured that he was really, really in trouble.

Father and son remained quiet until the waiter arrived at their table for their orders. After Gus had ordered his spaghetti (with double meatballs), Brian asked for the endless soup and salad as well as a bottle of red wine. He needed something to relax himself, he thought.

"Alright Gus. Start explaining."

Gus quickly told his father what happened with the other boy, trying to leave out the details of exactly what had been said to him. He explained that Matthew was considered a bully by the other kids and it was probably just his turn to get picked on. He knew that if his father found out he was being harassed because of his parents, his dad would be pissed. He truly didn't want him down at the school raising a fuss. Gus wanted to handle the situation himself.

Brian remained quiet after Gus had finished speaking. Their dinners had arrived by then and they both tackled the food on their plates. After swallowing his last bite, Brian set his fork down and said, "Okay Gus. Now it's my turn." He rolled his lips inward then started, "How much do you know about Justin's prom? I'm sure you've heard something, given our strange little group of friends."

"The only thing I've ever heard was something Uncle Vic and Grandma Deb said, and they weren't even talking to me at the time. Supposedly, Pops got 'bashed' after the prom, whatever bashed is."

"Give me a chance to explain, okay? I met Justin the night you were born-he was seventeen and still in high school."

Gus quickly did the math in his head and exclaimed, "Wow, Dad. He's like-way younger than…" His words petered off at the look in his father's eyes. "Uh, never mind."

"Anyway, as I was saying, he was still in school and his prom was coming up. He wasn't going to go, but Jennifer, Deb and Vic talked him into it. He asked me to go with him, but I said no, figuring there was no way that I needed to be at a high school dance. However, as the prom got closer, I began to have second thoughts." Brian's eyes softened as he thought about that night and how beautiful Justin had looked. "Justin asked your Aunt Daphne to go as his date and she said yes. I didn't tell him I had changed my mind-I just showed up at the hotel and asked him to dance. We were the only ones on the floor-everyone was watching us and Daphne was standing there, just beaming."

Hazel eyes misted over as he came to the next part, "After our dance, he walked me out to my jeep. We were singing, dancing-just goofing around. He told me it was the best night of his life. We said goodnight, and he walked away since he needed to take Daphne home. I got in the jeep and was watching him in the side mirror, thinking that it had been one of the best nights of my life, as well. As I watched…" Brian paused and swallowed a sip of wine. He took a deep breath and continued, "As I watched, a kid Justin had been having trouble with in school came up behind him, holding a baseball bat. I jumped out and called his name but… I… I was too far away and Chris Hobbs swung… he swung that Goddamned bat and hit Justin in the head."

Brian closed his eyes for a minute then looked over at Gus. The boy was sitting there, wide-eyed, a horrified look on his face. Brian reached over and took Gus' hand in his own, giving it a squeeze before beginning again. "At first, we weren't even sure Justin would live. He was in the hospital for weeks, and had to go through physical therapy for several months, until he regained the use of his right hand. The doctors told him he probably wouldn't ever draw again. Christ, can you imagine what that did to him? His art is one of the things that make him so special."

"Justin suffered all that because he and Chris Hobbs didn't get along in school. There were nasty words spoken and mean tricks played. It started out small, like your fight today, but soon got worse-then the unthinkable happened and Justin was injured. Son, that is why I really need you to promise me something." Brian stared directly into the hazel eyes so like his own and spoke softly but firmly, "Promise me that if you're having problems with someone, tell an adult. Tell me, talk to Justin, tell one of your teachers, but talk-don't respond with violence. Someone, possibly you, could get hurt-and I couldn't live with that. Promise?"

Tears were streaming down his face as Gus timidly responded, "Yes, Daddy, I promise. Oh Daddy, I'm so sorry. I didn't know…"

Brian pulled the sobbing boy into his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around him. He rocked his son back and forth, whispering words of affection and comfort into the soft auburn hair. Finally, when he felt the tremors in Gus' small body lessen, he pulled back and inquired, "Better now, Sonny boy? God, your face is a mess." They both chuckled as Brian reached over, grabbed a napkin off the table, and wiped his son's tears away.

Gus looked up at his father and said, "Daddy, I love you and I promise I'll be good, okay?"

Pushing a lock of hair off Gus' forehead, Brian gently brushed his lips across his son's cheek, "I love you too, Gus. Justin and the rest of the family do too. That's why it's so important to us that you are safe. You just do your best and things will work out."

Gus nodded and moved off his father's lap. He sat back down in his own chair and asked, "Can I have dessert now?"

Brian smiled, adding, "Okay, but we also need to talk about your punishment, alright?"

"Punishment?"

Brian smirked and nodded, "Oh yeah. Unfortunately-or probably in your opinion, fortunately-we are leaving Saturday morning for our vacation, so your punishment will have to wait until we get back. I believe I know the perfect thing, too. The weekend after we get back, you get to spend both Saturday and Sunday helping Grandma Deb and Uncle Vic around their house. Cleaning, yard work, whatever they come up with, you do. If they run out, then we move to Nana Jen's condo-then Uncle Mikey and Uncle Ben's place-then…"

Gus held up his hands, laughing, "Okay, alright, I understand. Jeesh."

"And now, little boy, we need to get going. I have a couple of hours work to do at the office and I'm sure you have homework to keep yourself occupied. Order your dessert to go, so we can get a move on."

Gus talked to the waiter while Brian settled the bill. As soon as the take-out bag arrived at their table, father and son stood up and gathered their things. As they exited the restaurant, Brian slipped his arm around the thin shoulders of his son and hugged him close to his side. Gus felt that the day had finally improved.

Several hours later, Gus had finished his homework and was bored. He peeked into his father's office and found him talking on the phone while working on the computer in front of him. He quietly backed out of the door and decided to go down to the art department. He hoped his friend Jim was still at work.

Jim Porter, a forty-something father of three was in charge of video editing for the company. He and Gus had clicked when he had come to work at Kinnetik two years before. After Gus had taken his photography and video editing classes the past summer, Jim had shown him some additional tricks of the trade. Gus soon became enthralled with the whole process and spent many hours watching the man work his magic.

Gus strolled into the art department, happy to see Jim hunched over his monitor. "Hey Jim, whatcha working on?" He moved behind the man and glanced over at the video display.

"Hi Gus. This is a personal project your dad gave me permission to work on here." Jim sat up in his chair and swiveled around to face the eight-year-old. "My mom and dad will be celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary on Christmas day. We're having a big party for them, and I wanted to put together a video showing the best-and the worst-of the past half-century. Want to see something funny?" When Gus nodded, Jim turned back to the computer and started his video from the beginning.

Gus was soon caught up in the movie. Jim had spliced old photos, family movies and new interviews with family members into a complete story of his parents' life together. There were still shots of their courtship and marriage, movies of Christmases and vacations spent with their young family, their children's graduations, weddings and the births of their grandchildren. Jim had spoken with his two siblings and their family, who recounted their favorite memories of the couple. Jim's daughter had narrated the story, and the whole video showed the love everyone had for Jim's parents.

Gus began to bounce with excitement-he finally had an idea for his project. He swiftly explained his assignment to Jim, who agreed to help him put the final product together. They discussed ideas for video shots Gus could take while on their vacation, as well as photos and a written journal to keep the details straight. Gus was ecstatic. He just knew that this was the perfect plan.

When he heard his father's voice calling out for him, he quickly extracted a promise of secrecy from Jim. He wanted to surprise his dads. He also wanted his parents to act normally around the camera-he thought that if they knew what the video was for, they might behave differently. Gus was smiling as he told Jim goodnight and went to meet his dad.

Yes, even though the day had started poorly, it had definitely improved.

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