Friday, February 12, 1983

        The plans were in place.  Dan’s lawyer, Nathan Beidas had filed Regan’s petition.  Maypenny stood at the ready.   Margery Trask, Peter and Helen Belden, Celia and Tom Delanoy and the rest of Manor House staff had been informed of the situation and Regan’s plan.  Once again Regan had been surprised by the support of these people who had become his surrogate family.  It had been decided that the adults would keep the experiment a secret from the children.  Regan had insisted.  If the Bob-Whites were going to accept Dan, Regan wanted it to be on Dan’s own merit, not based on Dan’s being his nephew.

        The stable was clean and organized.  The animals were exercised, groomed and fed.  Regan’s travel plans to the city were set.  He had even arranged for the Belden boys to come over after school and learn how to bandage the cut on Thor’s Thunderer’s leg.  The stud had gotten spooked on his first day, and had cut his leg.  His owners had decided to let Thunderer recover at Manor House, so that he could fulfill his contractual obligations.  While this boded well for the mares, it meant extra stress for Regan, when his plate was already full.

        Suddenly feeling overwhelmed,  Regan saddled Strawberry and headed down to Crabapple Farm to seek reassurance from Helen Belden.

        Helen welcomed Regan into her kitchen with a warm smile and the offer of tea and some veggies with dip she had prepared for her children’s impending arrival from school.  He declined, and got right to the point.  “Mrs. Belden, I just need to know if you think I’m doing the right thing.  What if I’m making a huge mistake bringing Dan here.  What if he hurts someone?  What if he starts stealing and vandalizing things around here? I...I...just hope I’m making the right decision.”

        Helen chose her words carefully, “Regan.  I know this has been a hard decision for you.  I want you to know that Peter and I believe that you are doing the right thing.   We believe in you, dear, and we’re happy that you were comfortable trusting us with your decision.”

“I know.  I wouldn’t have bothered you with it, Mrs. Belden, but Miss Trask said you or Mr. Belden might have some idea what I should do.  It’s had me beside myself, worrying.”

“It wasn’t a bother,”  Helen assured him, “My only concern is your insistence that we not tell the kids about your nephew.”

“I know that too.”  Regan sighed and ran his hand through his hair.  “I just don’t want them to know about the reasons for his coming here.  It’s something I’m hoping to keep from any of the youngsters.  There’s no telling how they’d feel about it if they suspected the truth.”

        “It is ultimately your decision,” Helen began as the front door slammed, “My kidlets have arrived.  I was going to say that all you can do now is pray and know that we’ll be praying with you.”  She smiled as she heard Trixie singing  in the hallway.

        Regan moved towards the back door, his cap in his hands, as Trixie entered the kitchen.  “It sounds like the best idea, Mrs. Belden, and thanks a lot.  If it doesn’t work out, I don’t know what more I can do.  It could turn out good if I’m lucky, or just make things more mixed up.”

        Mrs. Belden nodded soberly.  “It’s worth trying.  Good luck on it anyhow, Regan.  I only wish we could do more to help.” He put on his cap, nodded to Trixie, and left for home.

        Regan grilled himself a hot dog and heated up some soup for his dinner. Restless and unable to settle his mind, he went down to the stables.  He was tiding up the spotless tack room when there was a knock on the door, and Mr. Maypenny came in.  “Saw your light on, thought I’d stop by and go over any last minute details.  How are you doing, son?”

        Regan shook his head. “I don’t know.  I’m nervous, but I don’t know if I’m worried that the judge will say no tomorrow, or that he’ll say yes.”

        Maypenny gripped Regan’s shoulder and said firmly, “It’ll be okay.  Just remember that you have friends who are willing to help out if you need them.  All you need to do is ask.  I know you’re worried, but all we can do is try.”

        “I know you’ll do the best you can, but it’s a tricky business and I can’t expect miracles.”  Regan rubbed his face. “I never thought anything like this could happen.”

        “That’s what life is all about.”  Maypenny said sagely, “Dreams are what we expect.  Life is what happens while we are waiting on the dreams.  We just have to make the best of it.  I expect I’ll see you when you get back.”

        Regan nodded.  “Tom and I will get back as early as we can Sunday afternoon and we’ll meet at your place.  That is, if we have any luck.”

        “You’ll do fine, my friend.”  Maypenny started out the door.  “I’ll see all of you when you get home.”  He left through the back door, just as Trixie came tromping in the front.  That girl was too curious.  Pasting a smile on his face, Regan reached for the radio.

Saturday, February 12, 1983

        Bill Regan sat in the office of Judge Harvey Armen and tried not to fidget.  The big leather chair was comfortable, but its occupant was not.  Waiting for his nephew to arrive from Spofford was nerve-racking, and he fought to keep from chewing on his fingernails--a habit he had thought broken five years before.

        He thought back to his meeting with the judge.  The man had been genial, but expressed his doubts about Regan’s plan.  Finally, he said to Regan, “I am willing to let you try this experiment.  I know your sister worried about her son and about you, and I gathered from her instructions that she felt putting the two of you together would be the best way to straighten out the mess that started back when she lost track of you all those years ago.  I think she hoped that the two of you would be able to be family.  I’m a little concerned that Dan will not be living with you, but Thomas Maypenny appears to be a model citizen, and it’s likely that Dan will respond better to an older man.  This situation will be well supervised by my people.  I’ll go over the details of that when Daniel arrives.  Have you any questions for me?”

        Regan had just shaken his head;  the judge’s words had been almost verbatim what the lawyer had written to him two days past. Then Judge Armen had shaken Regan’s hand and left  him to his thoughts.

        Dan sat on his bed and waited.  While he waited, he brooded.  His uncle was in court, offering to save him from reform school.  Dan knew he should feel grateful, happy, relieved.  But he didn't.  The man didn’t want him, he’d made that very clear.  He was going to shuttle him off into the woods to live with some crazy old hermit.  Good ole Uncle Regan didn’t want Dan hanging around the big house where he lived, mingling with the rich kids.  He was afraid Dan might steal something.  Dan grinned bitterly.  Maybe he would, just to annoy his uncle.  The Wheelers probably had more stuff than they knew what to do with.  Rich folk might even have a fancy car or two in the country garage.  It would serve his uncle right if Dan called on a few of his gang buddies to relieve the poor rich folk of some of their wealth.  Serve him right for not caring.

        The door opened, and Dan rose, extending his arms.  This ritual was one of the reasons he wasn’t telling his long-lost uncle to get lost again.  He didn’t much care for juvie.  Cuffed, he stepped into his boots and allowed himself to be led down to the van.  The drive to the courthouse was not very long, and before he knew it he was sitting next to his uncle, Ms. Pasquale and Mr. Beidas in front of a stern looking Judge Armen.

        The judge made it clear to Dan that he had only two choices:  Live in the woods, or off to some detention center until he was eighteen.  Dan wasn’t even given the opportunity to speak, other than to say, “Yes sir” and “No sir.”  When the judge finished his lecture, he asked Dan to make his choice.  Dan swallowed his resentment and politely said, “I choose to go with my uncle, sir.” The lecture continued for another ten minutes, but Dan put a passive mask on his face and tuned it out.  Finally, he was escorted out and left on a bench while his uncle signed papers and made arrangements.

        “Manny.  Gettin’ sprung or sent up?”  Dan looked up to see Luke standing over him.  Luke had foregone his leather jacket and was wearing a button down shirt and sports coat.

        “Sprung.”  Dan sneered slightly.  “My long lost uncle showed up to save me.”

        “How long before you can get back here?” Luke asked, “We’re going to have to rebuild, now that half the gang’s going up.”

        “Not soon enough,” Dan mumbled.  “Why are you here?”

        “I’m playing model citizen so I can spring little brother Benny.  Do I look like a good role model?”  He laughed nastily.  “So where are you going?”

        Dan let his resentment boil to the surface.  “Some estate upstate.  He works for a rich guy, Wilson, Wheeler, something like that.  I get to live in the woods with the neighborhood hermit.”

        “Ahh.  Ashamed of you is he?”  Luke grinned knowingly and sat down next to the younger boy. “Taking you in as an obligation, but doesn’t really want you, right?”  Dan nodded.  “Figures.  You know, Danno, the Cowhands want you.  We appreciate you.”  Luke scratched his chin and wondered out loud. “I bet you’d like to show your uncle what you’re worth.  Maybe me and the boys should come for a visit.”

        “Yeah,”  Dan agreed. “It shouldn’t take long to figure out where all the goods are.  Easy pickings, right?  Serve them right.”

        The door to the judge’s chambers started to open and Luke jumped up.  “You keep in touch, Danny-Manny.  We’re here for you.”  He turned and walked down the hall--the picture of a model citizen.

        Regan stepped into the hallway, shaking hands with the lawyer and the case worker.  He spied his nephew sitting on the bench wearing his usual sulky expression.  Brusquely, he said, “Let’s get going.  This went faster than I hoped.  We can be back in Sleepyside by dinner.”

        Dan rose to his feet, his stomach growling at the mention of food.  He had left Spofford before lunch, and he hadn’t been offered anything after arriving at the courthouse.  He was hungry, but there was no way he was going to ask this man for anything.  He told himself he could wait.

        They left in a sedan whose engine, Dan noticed, struggled on the hills.  He sat in the back, staring at the back of his uncle’s head.  The driver had been introduced as Tom.  He reminded Dan of his dad, Tim.  Similar name, same dark hair and wide smile, although Tom’s blue eyes were nowhere near as dark a blue as the ones Tim Mangan had passed on to his son.  Tom tried valiantly to start a conversation, but Dan’s sullenness and Regan’s silence eventually thwarted his attempts.

        Finally, Tom pulled the car off the paved road and started up a steep and narrow snow-covered dirt road.  The car started sputtering.  Dan couldn’t maintain his silence, “Your engine is missing.” he told Tom, “It sounds like your plugs are fouled.”

        Tom looked back in surprise.  “You know cars?” he asked.

        Dan nodded, “My dad liked cars.  We used to take them apart and rebuild them.”

        “Maybe you’d like to come over once you get settled in and help me get this one tuned.  She is riding rough, but my first priority is always the boss’ cars.”

        Dan opened his mouth to say yes, but Regan spoke for him. “He’s going to have enough to do for Maypenny, Tom.  I wouldn’t count on him.”

        Dan fumed.  How dare this...man...answer for him?  What gave him the right to determine how Dan spent his free time?  He knew the answer, but he was too angry right now to speak.  He scowled at the back of Regan’s head, and thought nasty thoughts. 

        The car pulled to a stop in front of a log cabin.  Dan fought down his apprehension as the door opened, revealing an older man.  He was tall, lean and muscular, with calloused hands and a half smile on his face.  He came down the steps, hand outstretched. “I’m Mr. Maypenny.  You must be Daniel.  Come on in.”

        Dan entered the cabin.  It was warm and cozy, and something smelled wonderful.  Dan looked around, taking in the chairs in front of the fire and the bunk along the wall.  He sniffed.  The good smells were coming from the kitchen area, where he could see a table set for two.  His stomach rumbled.

        “Hungry, are you?”  Maypenny asked.

        “Yeah.”  Dan said, an accusing tone in his voice, “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”  He was pleased to see a guilty look flash across his uncle’s face.

        “Well, I waited for you, so we can eat together.  Regan, Tom?  Would you care to join us?”

        “No thank you.”  Regan spoke for both men. “I promised Celia I’d return her husband as soon as possible.  I just want to get the boy settled, and we’ll be off for home.”  He tried to ignore his nephew’s glare.  He was ashamed that he had been so concerned about getting out of the city, he had forgotten to feed the boy.  He hadn’t given any consideration to Dan’s needs.  Regan looked around the cabin, and realized that everything Dan owned was stuffed in the paper sack Tom had set by the door.  Clearing his throat, he said, “Dan, I know you’ll need some clothes and supplies.  You’ll be starting school on Tuesday.  I’ll make a trip to town and get you some things to tide you over.  Until we see if this is going to work.”

        Maypenny watched as the boy flinched at his uncle’s less than hopeful words.  Dan just shrugged and said, “Whatever.”

        “Come on, lad.” Maypenny gestured, “Let me show you around.”  He laughed.  “It certainly won’t take long.  Then we can wash up and eat.  Gentlemen,” he turned to Tom and Regan, “I trust you can find your way out.”  He led Dan away.

        Regan and Tom let themselves out.  Once in the car, Tom asked, “Don’t you think you were a little harsh back there, Regan.”

        “I don’t need you to point out my family shortcomings Tom!”  Regan snapped, his face grim.  Tom said nothing more, as he concentrated on getting them back to Manor House.

        The cabin tour was short and sweet.  There were five rooms on the main floor and an attic above:  The living room; the kitchen/dining room; Mr. Maypenny’s room; the bathroom, and the room that would be Dan’s.  It wasn’t huge, maybe ten by twelve, but it had two windows, a desk and chair, a closet and bunk beds covered with green and blue plaid coverlets.  Most importantly, the door locked from the inside, not the outside.  “I used to share this room with my brother.” Mr. Maypenny told Dan, “I figure you should do okay here.  There’s room to have a friend stay over if you’re so inclined.  Just let me know.  There’s a couple of boys around here about your age.  How old are you, again?”

        “Fourteen.  I’ll be fifteen on the fifteenth.”

        “Tuesday.  And it’s your golden birthday.”  Maypenny took in Dan’s confused look and explained, “My mother always called the birthday when your age matches your birth date a golden birthday.  All your dreams and wishes are supposed to come true then.”

        “Oh.”  Dan wanted to tell the old man that he no longer had wishes and dreams, but he held his tongue.  So far the old guy was friendly.  The room he had given Dan was comfortable looking, and the food smelled good.  Maybe this could work after all.

        “Come on young one,” Mr. Maypenny said.  “Let’s get us some grub and then some sleep.  Morning comes early around here.”

        After a dinner of biscuits and baked pheasant, carrots and apple pie, Dan crawled into the bottom bunk.  He didn’t know what the morning would bring, but for tonight he took comfort in the fact that he was well fed, warm and, for the time being, safe.

        Sunday morning, Dan awakened to the smell of bacon and the clatter of cutlery.  For a moment he kept his eyes closed, pretending it was his mother in the kitchen,  that any minute his dad would come knocking on the door to roust him for church, and that the last several years had all been a nightmare. 

        Sighing, he rolled out of the bed and began dressing.  Dreams had no place in his life anymore.  He made his bed with the military precision of a soldier’s son, and crept out into the main room.

        “Morning, young one.”  Mr. Maypenny said cheerfully, “Breakfast is almost ready.  We’ve got oatmeal and bacon and some tasty applesauce Mrs. Belden, up the road, sent over.  Pull up a chair.”

        Dan obeyed.  Maypenny joined him, and they ate in silence.  Finally, Dan nervously asked, “So what is it you want me to do for you?  I mean for the job?”

        Maypenny looked at him over his coffee mug.  “What did Regan tell you?”

        “Nothing.”  Dan nearly spat the word.  He caught himself and tried to muster a placid mask before continuing.  “He hasn’t told me anything except I’m supposed to live here, go to school and work for you, stay out of trouble and not tell anyone we’re related.”  The sarcasm strained his voice.

        Maypenny bit back a smile at the boy’s tone,  realizing that it was masking the very real pain and anger he was feeling about his uncle’s attitude. 

        “Well, that is an important part, but he left out a few details.  As far as school goes, I’ll leave that up to you.  The less I have to go into town, the better I like it.  Around here, I’ll expect you to pick up after yourself and help out around the farm.  There’s always wood to be chopped, gardens to tend, things like that.  As for the job,”  Maypenny scratched his chin, “Matthew Wheeler owns a good chunk of the woods around here.  Not all of it, mind you,”  Maypenny chuckled, “and that chafes at him a bit.  Tried to buy my little piece a time or two.  Anyway, he owns enough to make himself a nice little preserve.  Keeps it pretty wild and natural, stocks it with the animals he likes to hunt, and keeps them all fed during the winter.  Of course, when you are a wealthy, busy businessman, you don’t have time to take care of things.  That’s where I come in.  And you too, now.  We take care of the preserve.”

        Dan asked doubtfully, “What does that mean, exactly?”

        “The preserve is a labyrinth of trails and paths,” Maypenny explained.  “We keep them clear of fallen trees and other debris.  I...we, also keep an eye out for sick animals, potentially dangerous animals like catamounts and bears...”

        “Bears?” Dan interrupted, his eyes wide.  “You have bears out here?”

        Maypenny laughed out loud.  “Not often, but yes.  Last one I saw was nigh on eight years ago.  We’re more likely to run across a tramp or a poacher than a bear.  Hunting on the preserve is by invitation only, but people don’t much like those rules.”  His eyes narrowed.  “If you do run across a tramp or a poacher, you come back and tell me.  Do not confront someone like that.  It’s not your job.”

        “What is my job?”  Dan asked.

        “Tomorrow’s a holiday, so I’ll take you out later today and tomorrow, and get you the lay of the land.  Mostly, you’ll help me with patrolling the trails.  There are designated feeding stations scattered throughout the preserve.  One of your duties will be to keep them filled.  That’s especially important this time of the year.  I’ll show you how to check and set the game traps and snares I use.  In the summer we keep a sharp eye out for things that cause fire.  That means clearing a lot of underbrush and watching for illegal camp fires.”

        “If I’m here in the summer,” Dan said bitterly.  “My uncle doesn’t seem to think that I will.”

        “That’s pretty much up to you, isn’t it, lad?” Maypenny asked.  “You have a lot of strings attached to you, but in the end, you control whether you make this work or not.  Right?”

        “I suppose,” Dan said quietly.  “But I haven’t had any control in my life for a long time.”  Realizing what he had just admitted, he changed the subject, asking, “Do you go to church on Sunday?”

        “No.”  Maypenny let the change occur, “I make my peace with God out here in the woods.  I’m sure your Uncle Bill will take you to church if you’d like to go.  There are several in town.”

        Dan’s expression became sullen. “I don’t want to ask him for anything.”

        “That’s also your choice, lad.  Let’s get this table cleared and I’ll take you out for a look around.”

        Dan picked up his plate and carried it to the sink.  The words Maypenny had spoken echoed in his head.  Control.  Was it really possible to take control of his life?  He didn’t know, and he was a little afraid that the answer would be no.

        Dan spent the better part of Sunday and Monday outside in the snow.   Trailing Mr. Maypenny around the preserve had been an interesting adventure for a boy who had spent most of his life in cities.  Sitting in front of the fire  Monday evening with a cup of hot chocolate, Dan wondered how many times he would get lost during his first week on the job. 

        A knock on the door caught his attention, and he answered it, revealing his uncle carrying a large shopping bag.  He stood aside to let Regan enter.

        “Evening, Regan,” Mr. Maypenny came in from the kitchen. “What brings you out tonight?”

        “I brought Dan some clothes and things.”  Regan thrust the bag at his nephew.  “I hope they fit.  There are some jeans, a pair of dress slacks, some shirts, underwear, socks...things for school.  Some pencils and notebooks, too.”

        “Thanks,”  Dan said with little inflection and less sincerity.  He took the bag and gave the contents a cursory glance.

        “Well, I wanted you to be ready for school tomorrow.”  Regan looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I...uh...I need to speak to Mr. Maypenny about that.”

        “Yes?”  Thomas Maypenny waited expectantly.

        “I need you to go with Dan to the school tomorrow.  I’ve got the vet and the breeder both scheduled for tomorrow morning, and I just won’t have the time.”

        “Dag nab it, Regan!”  Mr. Maypenny exclaimed.  “You know how much I hate going into town.  And how in tarnation do you expect me to get him to school?  I don’t think Brownie’s up to double riders all the way to Sleepyside, do you?”

        “Tom’s taking Miss Trask in to the train in the morning.  You can take the school bus with the boy, and Tom will bring you home afterwards.” Regan edged his way to the door.  “All of his records and such are in a binder in the bag.  You shouldn’t have any problems.”

        Dan watched the exchange with trepidation:  So much for controlling his own life.  Two grown men were standing in front of him arguing over which one would be stuck with registering him in school.  He clutched the bag tightly, his knuckles white on his clenched fists.

        Maypenny noticed Dan’s stance, and turned to the boy. “Daniel, why don’t you take your new things to your room and get them put away.  It’s nearly time for bed.  Your uncle and I will work this out.  We’ll get you to school tomorrow.”

        Dan nodded curtly and backed out of the room.  When Maypenny heard the door close, he turned back to Regan. “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing here son, because I do.”

        “I don’t know what you mean,”  Regan said defensively.

        “No?  I think you do.  You’re doing your best to push that boy away.  You expect me to give him a chance, but you won’t give him one yourself.”  Regan was silent, so Maypenny continued.  “I don’t know what you are so afraid of, but if you want this to work, you need to get over it.  I’ll take the boy to school tomorrow, and I’ll see that he gets a decent start, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you and your fear cause him more pain.”

        “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

        “No, you probably don’t.”  Maypenny shook his head.  “Do you ever look at the boy when you talk to him?  Do you?”  When Regan didn’t answer, Maypenny answered for him.  “You don’t.  If you did, I think you’d see that there’s a lot going on  under that sulky mask, and much of it is fear.  Maybe you should find out what your nephew is so afraid of before you sit in judgment.” 

        Maypenny reached behind Regan and opened the door.  “Go home, boy.  I’ll take care of tomorrow, but you better figure out how to take care of the rest of it.”  He turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen, leaving Regan to see himself out.

Inside the Jacket 1

Index

Inside the Jacket 3

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