No Other One, Chapter 51
Title: No Other One, Chapter 51
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yelina Salas, Horatio Caine, the whole Caine family
Author's Note: WARNING: SPOILER FOR SEASON 6.
Summary: Almost two decades ago, Horatio made a decision that would change his family forever. Will they ever forgive him? Will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? This is an alternative to the beginning of season 6. A Horatio and Kyle story; H/Y romance in the future.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35, Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44, Chapter 45, Chapter 46, Chapter 47, Chapter 48, Chapter 49, and Chapter 50.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“I walked beside the evening sea and dreamed a dream that could not be; the waves that plunged along the sore said only: ‘Dreamer, dream no more!’” - George William Curtis
Her driving had been borderline dangerous, frantic enough to worry herself that she might have an accident. Everyone else on the road had seemed unconcerned, she would later think. But Yelina had worried anyway that she’d die before reaching the school.
Now in the parking lot, the mother walked quickly. Trying very hard to calm down, she told herself that she was reacting over nothing. That, despite the “911” in the page, she had no reason to be as upset as she was.
Something was going on, but Yelina recognized that she was assuming the worst. And that wasn’t right - especially not when her son regularly accused her of doing just that. She should know better, at least strive for better, and that meant she needed to take a deep breath and work on the assumption that things weren’t as bad as they seemed. As she took one last step towards the school entrance, Yelina forced herself to calm down.
But it wasn’t an easy task, she thought. Even after her gait slowed and her breathing began to even out, the mother still wondered what might have happened. Knowing Ray Junior, Yelina realized that the possibilities were endless these days. And she could only hope that he’d done something good.
Once more, though, she thought about how the page had said “911.” Which pretty much ruled out her son being involved in anything remotely positive.
But for him, for his sake, she clung to the idea that he might have done something right.
Moments later, however, when the secretary let Yelina into the principal’s office, she knew otherwise. And almost immediately…
Her hopes were dashed.
Ray Junior stood defensively, blood spatter flecked on his yellow shirt, by the large desk in the room. Two teachers were leaning against the opposite wall, one Yelina recognized as Ray’s ever-suffering Spanish teacher. And standing right in the middle of it was the school principal, Gerald Dowman, a pompous, little man whom she’d dealt with many times before.
Many, many times.
Since entering the school, her son had ended up here more than she’d have liked to admit. Misbehaving in class, truancy, tardiness, refusing to do assignments - he’d committed the generic acts of a teenager intent on learning absolutely nothing. But that wasn’t all he’d done. Definitely more than an average delinquent, Ray Junior had been at the heart of some incredibly bizarre and horrible incidents as well.
Around the anniversary of his father’s death (the time when Raymond had actually died), he had taken it upon himself to concoct a fast-acting adhesive. Which in and of itself was breaking school rules, as students were only allowed to use the facility’s chemicals as instructed. That her son should then use the homemade glue to adhere his lab partner in her miniskirt to her seat did nothing to help matters.
Truth be told, Yelina still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to keep Ray Junior from being expelled. But there was no doubt in her mind that it was she who had been the one to make that seemingly impossible feat possible.
Because each time, she had come in here to discuss one of her son’s infractions, Dowman had been angrily threatening to suspend or expel Ray. And it had not been the teenager’s ability to charm people but hers that had worked. Each and every time, she’d offer a kind word, a flirtatious smile, and the principal had slowly been calmed down.
“Ms. Salas,” he said, interrupting her thoughts with a salacious grin that was completely inappropriate.
Honestly, she hated doing this for Raymond, hated being the one to essentially prostitute herself to cover his mistakes. Especially since the mother was beginning to suspect that he never learned from the mayhem he caused.
And yet, even fearing that to be true didn’t stop her from giving the obnoxious principal a grin of her own. As wrong as this felt - was - Yelina couldn’t let her son’s future suffer.
No matter how horrible her actions were, she could not - would not - use “tough love.” Not when it would inevitably lead to his expulsion. She supposed that… taking that position made her weak, particularly in her son’s eyes. But…
What else could she do?
Letting a child flounder and accept the consequences of his actions might not have been a mistake in theory. But with a boy as destructive as hers… she couldn’t in good conscience do it.
“Please sit down,” Dowman told her.
But shaking her head politely, she declined. If she were going to have to listen to what Ray Junior did, she’d rather be standing. Cutting to the chase, Yelina asked grimly, “What has my son done now?”
“Mom,” Ray said, obviously annoyed.
The adults in the room ignored him.
“Your son got into a fight,” the principal explained calmly, sadly.
The words washing over her hotly, Yelina couldn’t help but frown, couldn’t help but feel her heart twinge in pain.
How could her son be so reckless?
As the question echoed in her mind, Dowman continued, “He says the other boy attacked him unprovoked.” His voice was even, gentle but firm at the same time; no accusation in the tones whatsoever, somehow Yelina still managed to think nobody in the room believed that story.
She didn’t.
Given Ray Junior’s past behavior - and his current pristine condition - it was hard not to think her son was lying.
The principal spoke slowly as he told her, “We’ve yet to talk to the other boy. He’s still at the hospital, but -”
“The hospital?” Yelina repeated, feeling numb and nauseous.
The sensation flowing through her in a series of short tides, it felt like… something she could only describe as hollow dread. The situation too vague and unformed to really fear it, she could only wait for the principal to paint the rest of this horrible picture for her.
But what she was beginning to see, even without knowing all the details, scared her.
There was a hospital involved.
And that meant even if she could convince Dowman not to call the police - other police officers, anyway - she had no such connection or pull over the hospital.
Because of that, Yelina knew: there was no easy way out of this now, no amount of flirtation that would necessarily stop them from expelling Ray.
Or keep him out of jail.
Perhaps sensing her fear, the principal attempted to soothe, “It’s a precaution, of course.”
Which prompted a teacher Yelina had never seen before to speak up. “Don’t lie to her, Gerald, for Christ’s sake,” she admonished. “Ms. Salas, I was one of the teachers who stopped the fight. The other boy… well, he might have a broken nose,” she told her simply.
Yelina could tell the dowdy woman was trying to somehow break the news gently without making the situation seem better than it was. Still, the mother didn’t think the other woman had succeeded all that well in doing so.
At that moment, Yelina was long passed needing superficial comfort, her brain racing at the news.
Ray Junior had broken somebody’s nose.
The sheer violence of it was almost breathtaking, made her wonder why he would do something like that.
She wasn’t in denial about the… less than ideal family life they both had as of late. Obviously, she had made mistakes - everyone in their family had screwed up when it came to raising him and making good choices.
One horrible thing right after the other, realistically, Yelina understood that all the motive to do something so wrong was right there in front of her face. But still… she couldn’t help but feel betrayed.
As horrible as things were, he was supposed to be the one perfect thing about her life.
Not perfect in a general sense, not perfect as in he couldn’t have any flaws… she didn’t want that for her son, didn’t expect it from him. But Ray Junior was her baby, that bond perfect and indestructible; he’d been her reason for pressing on, for trying again and again to do better. In no short measure, he had been her reason for living.
To know that she had failed him by not protecting, by not guiding him…
His actions today ruined all of that. That idea of him, of her as his mother, broken just as that boy’s nose was… it would be a long time, if ever, before she would forgive him for this.
Her accusatory eyes falling upon his defensive form, she barely heard the principal speak once more. “Denise is right. There was… a lot of blood, and… we’re pretty sure the other boy has a broken nose,” he conceded. “But that boy - a new student, by the way - also has a criminal background.”
At that moment, Yelina noticed the teachers bristle at the information, but she was far too focused on her son to care. Ray Junior seemed almost… pleased by Dowman’s defense. And the mother couldn’t help but think she’d been handling all these trips to the principal’s office wrong.
Because right now, all she wanted to do was slap that arrogant smirk off of her son’s face.
Resisting the temptation, Yelina focused on the man before her. “Criminal record?” she asked curiously, hoping he would divulge that bit of information.
He did.
“Normally, I don’t like to… talk about the problems our other students have with people other than their parents,” he hedged. “But… this sixteen year old just transferred in - mother’s dead; father thought a new school would help with behavioral problems.”
“And you said yes.”
“As you know, Yelina… we pride ourselves on diversity and giving our students the tools needed to succeed in life.” Dowman sounded, she thought, like a used car salesman. But she didn’t comment, just waited for him to keep talking. “I wouldn’t put my kids intentionally at risk. Ever. So I conducted an interview with the boy and his father.”
“Mr. Dowman,” the woman Yelina recognized as Ray’s Spanish teacher admonished. “I don’t think -”
“It’s okay, Missy. If this goes to court, it’s all gonna come out then anyway,” he said, waving off her concern. “The teenager seemed normal - quiet but otherwise normal. Like I said, he had a criminal background - that included stealing and a kidnapping.” As an afterthought, Dowman added, “Although the news is now fingering two other kids for that job, so who knows?”
But the more he told her, the more… Yelina was beginning to feel like she was missing something. Something had provoked her son; something about this entire situation felt so familiar and near, despite the insanity of it all.
The explanation seemingly in reach, her fingers metaphorically stretched outward for it. But it remained elusive.
She took a deep breath and tried again.
Forcing her feelings aside once more, Yelina tried to look at the situation from dispassionate eyes. Trying so hard to close that gap in her knowledge, she could tell that the answer was close. And in a flash, before she could even think about stopping herself, she asked, “What is this student’s name?”
Simply, the principal answered, “Kyle Harmon.”
She could only steel herself against the feeling of her world crashing down around her once more.
Too aware of the strangers around them, Yelina refused to show the anger and hurt she felt. That was something she only wanted her son to see.
Her eyes briefly darted to Ray’s, and the mother could readily make out the look of unease - of fear - on his face. Quickly glancing back at the principal, Yelina told them as calmly as she could, “All right, I think I would like… to speak to my son alone for a moment if that’s okay.”
The other adults exchanged glances, as though trying to decide if leaving the mother and son alone was a good idea. It was a vile insinuation, the unspoken words sharpening the jagged edges of her broken heart. Turning away from her son, she glared at Dowman and the teachers in the room; silently, Yelina dared them to say what they were all thinking.
But no one did.
And finally, the principal said, “That’s fine with us,” the three adults quickly exiting the room.
The door shutting behind them, Yelina turned once more to Ray Junior. At that moment, looking at him, she felt her anger and disappointment grow inside of her; a feat she hadn’t thought possible, but in that second, she realized that he didn’t look the least bit contrite.
Oh, he looked unsure, maybe even a little afraid of what his punishment would be.
But nowhere in his face did she see guilt.
“What did you do, Raymond?” Her voice was hard, the tones clipped short, and it was a struggle not to yell at him.
His answer sounded like something he’d been practicing since the moment the fight ended. “He attacked me first, and I -”
Furiously, Yelina shook her head. “And yet, little boy, there’s not a scratch on you.”
The way he bristled at her words made her realize she didn’t need to scream at him; the chill in her voice was practically tangible, gave what she was saying just the right amount of bite. And it was more than enough to make him uncomfortable.
“I was -”
“Stop right now,” she said, cutting him off. As she took a step closer to him, she continued, “I have yet to hear a single honest word come out of your mouth. And right now, this is too important, Raymond, for you to lie to me, so stop it,” she ordered angrily.
Ray Junior opened his mouth to speak. But, her eyes blazing a deadly black, told him angrily, “Don’t you dare think I am in the mood for a fight.”
He smartly closed his mouth without uttering a word.
“Tell me what really happened,” she demanded.
His response was an instinctive one, the words, “It’s not my fault,” blurted out before he could stop himself.
Her accent rougher than normal, she ordered, “Stop lying.”
“I’m not!”
“This is what I know,” she told him, changing her approach to the situation. “Ever since your uncle told you the truth, you’ve been furious. You -”
“Well, jeez, Mommy Dearest, last I checked, you weren’t exactly acting like Mary fucking Sunshine over the news either,” he snapped back.
That smirk on his face again, Ray threw a hand in the air. “If that’s the only thing you got… I don’t know - are we sure you didn’t attack Little Orphan Annie?”
Furiously, Yelina closed the remaining distance between them until they were only a fraction of a step away from one another. Grabbing him roughly by the chin in a grip so strong he didn’t dare move, she commanded, “Look at me now.”
Of course, the order was unnecessary; he was already looking at her intently. Not in fear, but rather with slightly amused and curious eyes, he silently waited for her to speak some more.
“You have assaulted someone. You may have broken his nose. You have been the one sneaking around, looking for revenge.” With a shake of the head, she asked him sadly, “Do you know what that is, Raymond?”
She didn’t give him time to answer. “That is premeditation. That is the difference between you being suspended and expelled. That is the difference between you going…” She took a deep breath and swallowed hard before finishing, “Between you going to juvy and you going to a prison with adults.”
But if Ray understood the seriousness of the situation, he didn’t show it. Scoffing he told her, “Whatever. We both know you’ll do what you always do and get me out of it. Before they ever put the handcuffs on me, we both know you’ll whore yourself out and stop them.”
Resentment was palpable in each word; the way he spoke of her then, sounding so unappreciative, he wasn’t even trying to stop her from realizing:
He didn’t even care that she had worked so hard to help him.
If anything, he judged her for it.
That fact made her own resentment begin to blossom. He just had no appreciation for what she regularly did for him, she thought bitterly. Dropping her hand from his chin, she could no longer bear the small amount of contact with him. It was just too painful, his skin burning her just as much as his words had.
Her own response wasn’t much kinder. “If I’m a whore, Raymond, what precisely does that make you?”
His answer was to look away from her.
“You might hate me for doing what it takes to keep you out of trouble,” she conceded. “But I don’t see you doing anything to change that.”
He was annoyed when he told her, “Again - whatever. And,” Ray said, getting angrier, “If you think I’m going to tell you what happened when you’ve clearly already decided that I’m at fault, then -”
“If you believe that it’s smart to lie to the one person who is trying to help you,” Yelina snapped, her voice thick with her accent.
“Well, I’m not going to tell you.” The way he said it sounded so final, his body language telling her that he really wasn’t ever going to admit or talk about what happened.
Hands on her hips, she told him, “Then you should pray, Raymond, that I can make this go away.” As she stalked toward the door, Yelina turned and gave him a stern look. “If you could, at least, try to look apologetic, that would be nice.”
He said nothing.
The pressure all on her now, she opened the door. Her features schooled so that the anger and frustration she felt didn’t show, Yelina told Dowman (who was, of course, standing nearby) pleasantly, “I think we need to talk, yes?”
He followed her back in, glancing briefly at Ray Junior, who did have the good sense to pretend that he regretted what he had done.
As the adults sat down, Dowman said, “I think you know what I’m going to say.”
A small smile she didn’t feel on her lips, she responded, “The policy.”
“Yeah.”
“You know I’m very familiar with it, Gerald.” Her voice was as teasing as she could make it. “As Raymond has probably violated each and every line… I understand the position you’re in.”
“I don’t want to expel him,” the principal said, although she couldn’t decide if he was being genuine when he said it. “But you know our zero tolerance -”
“I understand,” she replied immediately. “But…” Yelina ran her tongue along her teeth, pretending to search for the words. “Certainly, there is some… discretion on your part, I should think.” Leaning forward in her chair, she explained, “If… a child had a disease that made them… psychotic, you would not expel them, would you?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her son bristle at her words. But he didn’t say anything, and frankly at the moment, that was all that mattered.
“Are you saying your son has a medical condition?”
She wished.
Shaking her head with a frown, she answered, “No. But I would ask you, please, to try and understand what led him to hurting Kyle Harmon.”
Dowman furrowed his brow in confusion. “I’m listening.”
The whole story took about ten minutes to get through - how Horatio had found this boy, how they’d all learned Kyle was his son, how difficult it had been for Ray Junior to learn the truth about his uncle, and the rest. None of the details were airbrushed, the pain in her voice and Ray Junior’s eyes incredibly real.
In truth, it was uncommon for her to share so much with someone who was a relative stranger. And as the words came out her mouth, Yelina couldn’t help but wonder where Horatio was. After all, if anyone should have been revealing this truth, it should have been him.
It should have been him, because this was all his fault, even as part of her recognized that it wasn’t. He should have been the one here, because… she had already suffered enough. And telling someone this story was a shameful, almost degrading act that she hadn’t earned.
Her whole body rebelling at her current reality, she struggled to listen to what the principal was saying. But through the almost incessant need to throw up, Yelina heard the offer he made.
A week’s suspension.
A notation on his permanent record.
She agreed to it immediately.
And even more immediately, the mother regretted doing so, as she and Ray Junior walked out to the car in the parking lot. Her son arrogantly strutting next to her, he asked her, “See? I knew you’d get me out of this, Mommy.”
The sarcasm in the last word was breathtaking, literally seemingly capable of stealing all the oxygen in the late morning air. Struggling to inhale, Yelina rationally understood why he would twist and stain all the wonderful connotations of “Mommy.”
She let it get to her.
But how could she not?
How could that not affect her?
Spinning around angrily to face him, Yelina warned him, “You haven’t been expelled. That doesn’t mean you’re out of trouble, little one,” she said with a sneer.
“I’m not going to jail,” he said snottily.
Her response was quick, honest. “By the time I’m done with you, Raymond, you’ll wish you were in prison.”
Sarcastically, Ray asked, “What - you gonna get the belt? A wire coat hanger or something?”
In complete seriousness, Yelina told him, “You’ll wish I had done that too.”
Go to the next Chapter
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yelina Salas, Horatio Caine, the whole Caine family
Author's Note: WARNING: SPOILER FOR SEASON 6.
Summary: Almost two decades ago, Horatio made a decision that would change his family forever. Will they ever forgive him? Will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? This is an alternative to the beginning of season 6. A Horatio and Kyle story; H/Y romance in the future.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35, Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44, Chapter 45, Chapter 46, Chapter 47, Chapter 48, Chapter 49, and Chapter 50.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“I walked beside the evening sea and dreamed a dream that could not be; the waves that plunged along the sore said only: ‘Dreamer, dream no more!’” - George William Curtis
Her driving had been borderline dangerous, frantic enough to worry herself that she might have an accident. Everyone else on the road had seemed unconcerned, she would later think. But Yelina had worried anyway that she’d die before reaching the school.
Now in the parking lot, the mother walked quickly. Trying very hard to calm down, she told herself that she was reacting over nothing. That, despite the “911” in the page, she had no reason to be as upset as she was.
Something was going on, but Yelina recognized that she was assuming the worst. And that wasn’t right - especially not when her son regularly accused her of doing just that. She should know better, at least strive for better, and that meant she needed to take a deep breath and work on the assumption that things weren’t as bad as they seemed. As she took one last step towards the school entrance, Yelina forced herself to calm down.
But it wasn’t an easy task, she thought. Even after her gait slowed and her breathing began to even out, the mother still wondered what might have happened. Knowing Ray Junior, Yelina realized that the possibilities were endless these days. And she could only hope that he’d done something good.
Once more, though, she thought about how the page had said “911.” Which pretty much ruled out her son being involved in anything remotely positive.
But for him, for his sake, she clung to the idea that he might have done something right.
Moments later, however, when the secretary let Yelina into the principal’s office, she knew otherwise. And almost immediately…
Her hopes were dashed.
Ray Junior stood defensively, blood spatter flecked on his yellow shirt, by the large desk in the room. Two teachers were leaning against the opposite wall, one Yelina recognized as Ray’s ever-suffering Spanish teacher. And standing right in the middle of it was the school principal, Gerald Dowman, a pompous, little man whom she’d dealt with many times before.
Many, many times.
Since entering the school, her son had ended up here more than she’d have liked to admit. Misbehaving in class, truancy, tardiness, refusing to do assignments - he’d committed the generic acts of a teenager intent on learning absolutely nothing. But that wasn’t all he’d done. Definitely more than an average delinquent, Ray Junior had been at the heart of some incredibly bizarre and horrible incidents as well.
Around the anniversary of his father’s death (the time when Raymond had actually died), he had taken it upon himself to concoct a fast-acting adhesive. Which in and of itself was breaking school rules, as students were only allowed to use the facility’s chemicals as instructed. That her son should then use the homemade glue to adhere his lab partner in her miniskirt to her seat did nothing to help matters.
Truth be told, Yelina still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to keep Ray Junior from being expelled. But there was no doubt in her mind that it was she who had been the one to make that seemingly impossible feat possible.
Because each time, she had come in here to discuss one of her son’s infractions, Dowman had been angrily threatening to suspend or expel Ray. And it had not been the teenager’s ability to charm people but hers that had worked. Each and every time, she’d offer a kind word, a flirtatious smile, and the principal had slowly been calmed down.
“Ms. Salas,” he said, interrupting her thoughts with a salacious grin that was completely inappropriate.
Honestly, she hated doing this for Raymond, hated being the one to essentially prostitute herself to cover his mistakes. Especially since the mother was beginning to suspect that he never learned from the mayhem he caused.
And yet, even fearing that to be true didn’t stop her from giving the obnoxious principal a grin of her own. As wrong as this felt - was - Yelina couldn’t let her son’s future suffer.
No matter how horrible her actions were, she could not - would not - use “tough love.” Not when it would inevitably lead to his expulsion. She supposed that… taking that position made her weak, particularly in her son’s eyes. But…
What else could she do?
Letting a child flounder and accept the consequences of his actions might not have been a mistake in theory. But with a boy as destructive as hers… she couldn’t in good conscience do it.
“Please sit down,” Dowman told her.
But shaking her head politely, she declined. If she were going to have to listen to what Ray Junior did, she’d rather be standing. Cutting to the chase, Yelina asked grimly, “What has my son done now?”
“Mom,” Ray said, obviously annoyed.
The adults in the room ignored him.
“Your son got into a fight,” the principal explained calmly, sadly.
The words washing over her hotly, Yelina couldn’t help but frown, couldn’t help but feel her heart twinge in pain.
How could her son be so reckless?
As the question echoed in her mind, Dowman continued, “He says the other boy attacked him unprovoked.” His voice was even, gentle but firm at the same time; no accusation in the tones whatsoever, somehow Yelina still managed to think nobody in the room believed that story.
She didn’t.
Given Ray Junior’s past behavior - and his current pristine condition - it was hard not to think her son was lying.
The principal spoke slowly as he told her, “We’ve yet to talk to the other boy. He’s still at the hospital, but -”
“The hospital?” Yelina repeated, feeling numb and nauseous.
The sensation flowing through her in a series of short tides, it felt like… something she could only describe as hollow dread. The situation too vague and unformed to really fear it, she could only wait for the principal to paint the rest of this horrible picture for her.
But what she was beginning to see, even without knowing all the details, scared her.
There was a hospital involved.
And that meant even if she could convince Dowman not to call the police - other police officers, anyway - she had no such connection or pull over the hospital.
Because of that, Yelina knew: there was no easy way out of this now, no amount of flirtation that would necessarily stop them from expelling Ray.
Or keep him out of jail.
Perhaps sensing her fear, the principal attempted to soothe, “It’s a precaution, of course.”
Which prompted a teacher Yelina had never seen before to speak up. “Don’t lie to her, Gerald, for Christ’s sake,” she admonished. “Ms. Salas, I was one of the teachers who stopped the fight. The other boy… well, he might have a broken nose,” she told her simply.
Yelina could tell the dowdy woman was trying to somehow break the news gently without making the situation seem better than it was. Still, the mother didn’t think the other woman had succeeded all that well in doing so.
At that moment, Yelina was long passed needing superficial comfort, her brain racing at the news.
Ray Junior had broken somebody’s nose.
The sheer violence of it was almost breathtaking, made her wonder why he would do something like that.
She wasn’t in denial about the… less than ideal family life they both had as of late. Obviously, she had made mistakes - everyone in their family had screwed up when it came to raising him and making good choices.
One horrible thing right after the other, realistically, Yelina understood that all the motive to do something so wrong was right there in front of her face. But still… she couldn’t help but feel betrayed.
As horrible as things were, he was supposed to be the one perfect thing about her life.
Not perfect in a general sense, not perfect as in he couldn’t have any flaws… she didn’t want that for her son, didn’t expect it from him. But Ray Junior was her baby, that bond perfect and indestructible; he’d been her reason for pressing on, for trying again and again to do better. In no short measure, he had been her reason for living.
To know that she had failed him by not protecting, by not guiding him…
His actions today ruined all of that. That idea of him, of her as his mother, broken just as that boy’s nose was… it would be a long time, if ever, before she would forgive him for this.
Her accusatory eyes falling upon his defensive form, she barely heard the principal speak once more. “Denise is right. There was… a lot of blood, and… we’re pretty sure the other boy has a broken nose,” he conceded. “But that boy - a new student, by the way - also has a criminal background.”
At that moment, Yelina noticed the teachers bristle at the information, but she was far too focused on her son to care. Ray Junior seemed almost… pleased by Dowman’s defense. And the mother couldn’t help but think she’d been handling all these trips to the principal’s office wrong.
Because right now, all she wanted to do was slap that arrogant smirk off of her son’s face.
Resisting the temptation, Yelina focused on the man before her. “Criminal record?” she asked curiously, hoping he would divulge that bit of information.
He did.
“Normally, I don’t like to… talk about the problems our other students have with people other than their parents,” he hedged. “But… this sixteen year old just transferred in - mother’s dead; father thought a new school would help with behavioral problems.”
“And you said yes.”
“As you know, Yelina… we pride ourselves on diversity and giving our students the tools needed to succeed in life.” Dowman sounded, she thought, like a used car salesman. But she didn’t comment, just waited for him to keep talking. “I wouldn’t put my kids intentionally at risk. Ever. So I conducted an interview with the boy and his father.”
“Mr. Dowman,” the woman Yelina recognized as Ray’s Spanish teacher admonished. “I don’t think -”
“It’s okay, Missy. If this goes to court, it’s all gonna come out then anyway,” he said, waving off her concern. “The teenager seemed normal - quiet but otherwise normal. Like I said, he had a criminal background - that included stealing and a kidnapping.” As an afterthought, Dowman added, “Although the news is now fingering two other kids for that job, so who knows?”
But the more he told her, the more… Yelina was beginning to feel like she was missing something. Something had provoked her son; something about this entire situation felt so familiar and near, despite the insanity of it all.
The explanation seemingly in reach, her fingers metaphorically stretched outward for it. But it remained elusive.
She took a deep breath and tried again.
Forcing her feelings aside once more, Yelina tried to look at the situation from dispassionate eyes. Trying so hard to close that gap in her knowledge, she could tell that the answer was close. And in a flash, before she could even think about stopping herself, she asked, “What is this student’s name?”
Simply, the principal answered, “Kyle Harmon.”
She could only steel herself against the feeling of her world crashing down around her once more.
Too aware of the strangers around them, Yelina refused to show the anger and hurt she felt. That was something she only wanted her son to see.
Her eyes briefly darted to Ray’s, and the mother could readily make out the look of unease - of fear - on his face. Quickly glancing back at the principal, Yelina told them as calmly as she could, “All right, I think I would like… to speak to my son alone for a moment if that’s okay.”
The other adults exchanged glances, as though trying to decide if leaving the mother and son alone was a good idea. It was a vile insinuation, the unspoken words sharpening the jagged edges of her broken heart. Turning away from her son, she glared at Dowman and the teachers in the room; silently, Yelina dared them to say what they were all thinking.
But no one did.
And finally, the principal said, “That’s fine with us,” the three adults quickly exiting the room.
The door shutting behind them, Yelina turned once more to Ray Junior. At that moment, looking at him, she felt her anger and disappointment grow inside of her; a feat she hadn’t thought possible, but in that second, she realized that he didn’t look the least bit contrite.
Oh, he looked unsure, maybe even a little afraid of what his punishment would be.
But nowhere in his face did she see guilt.
“What did you do, Raymond?” Her voice was hard, the tones clipped short, and it was a struggle not to yell at him.
His answer sounded like something he’d been practicing since the moment the fight ended. “He attacked me first, and I -”
Furiously, Yelina shook her head. “And yet, little boy, there’s not a scratch on you.”
The way he bristled at her words made her realize she didn’t need to scream at him; the chill in her voice was practically tangible, gave what she was saying just the right amount of bite. And it was more than enough to make him uncomfortable.
“I was -”
“Stop right now,” she said, cutting him off. As she took a step closer to him, she continued, “I have yet to hear a single honest word come out of your mouth. And right now, this is too important, Raymond, for you to lie to me, so stop it,” she ordered angrily.
Ray Junior opened his mouth to speak. But, her eyes blazing a deadly black, told him angrily, “Don’t you dare think I am in the mood for a fight.”
He smartly closed his mouth without uttering a word.
“Tell me what really happened,” she demanded.
His response was an instinctive one, the words, “It’s not my fault,” blurted out before he could stop himself.
Her accent rougher than normal, she ordered, “Stop lying.”
“I’m not!”
“This is what I know,” she told him, changing her approach to the situation. “Ever since your uncle told you the truth, you’ve been furious. You -”
“Well, jeez, Mommy Dearest, last I checked, you weren’t exactly acting like Mary fucking Sunshine over the news either,” he snapped back.
That smirk on his face again, Ray threw a hand in the air. “If that’s the only thing you got… I don’t know - are we sure you didn’t attack Little Orphan Annie?”
Furiously, Yelina closed the remaining distance between them until they were only a fraction of a step away from one another. Grabbing him roughly by the chin in a grip so strong he didn’t dare move, she commanded, “Look at me now.”
Of course, the order was unnecessary; he was already looking at her intently. Not in fear, but rather with slightly amused and curious eyes, he silently waited for her to speak some more.
“You have assaulted someone. You may have broken his nose. You have been the one sneaking around, looking for revenge.” With a shake of the head, she asked him sadly, “Do you know what that is, Raymond?”
She didn’t give him time to answer. “That is premeditation. That is the difference between you being suspended and expelled. That is the difference between you going…” She took a deep breath and swallowed hard before finishing, “Between you going to juvy and you going to a prison with adults.”
But if Ray understood the seriousness of the situation, he didn’t show it. Scoffing he told her, “Whatever. We both know you’ll do what you always do and get me out of it. Before they ever put the handcuffs on me, we both know you’ll whore yourself out and stop them.”
Resentment was palpable in each word; the way he spoke of her then, sounding so unappreciative, he wasn’t even trying to stop her from realizing:
He didn’t even care that she had worked so hard to help him.
If anything, he judged her for it.
That fact made her own resentment begin to blossom. He just had no appreciation for what she regularly did for him, she thought bitterly. Dropping her hand from his chin, she could no longer bear the small amount of contact with him. It was just too painful, his skin burning her just as much as his words had.
Her own response wasn’t much kinder. “If I’m a whore, Raymond, what precisely does that make you?”
His answer was to look away from her.
“You might hate me for doing what it takes to keep you out of trouble,” she conceded. “But I don’t see you doing anything to change that.”
He was annoyed when he told her, “Again - whatever. And,” Ray said, getting angrier, “If you think I’m going to tell you what happened when you’ve clearly already decided that I’m at fault, then -”
“If you believe that it’s smart to lie to the one person who is trying to help you,” Yelina snapped, her voice thick with her accent.
“Well, I’m not going to tell you.” The way he said it sounded so final, his body language telling her that he really wasn’t ever going to admit or talk about what happened.
Hands on her hips, she told him, “Then you should pray, Raymond, that I can make this go away.” As she stalked toward the door, Yelina turned and gave him a stern look. “If you could, at least, try to look apologetic, that would be nice.”
He said nothing.
The pressure all on her now, she opened the door. Her features schooled so that the anger and frustration she felt didn’t show, Yelina told Dowman (who was, of course, standing nearby) pleasantly, “I think we need to talk, yes?”
He followed her back in, glancing briefly at Ray Junior, who did have the good sense to pretend that he regretted what he had done.
As the adults sat down, Dowman said, “I think you know what I’m going to say.”
A small smile she didn’t feel on her lips, she responded, “The policy.”
“Yeah.”
“You know I’m very familiar with it, Gerald.” Her voice was as teasing as she could make it. “As Raymond has probably violated each and every line… I understand the position you’re in.”
“I don’t want to expel him,” the principal said, although she couldn’t decide if he was being genuine when he said it. “But you know our zero tolerance -”
“I understand,” she replied immediately. “But…” Yelina ran her tongue along her teeth, pretending to search for the words. “Certainly, there is some… discretion on your part, I should think.” Leaning forward in her chair, she explained, “If… a child had a disease that made them… psychotic, you would not expel them, would you?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her son bristle at her words. But he didn’t say anything, and frankly at the moment, that was all that mattered.
“Are you saying your son has a medical condition?”
She wished.
Shaking her head with a frown, she answered, “No. But I would ask you, please, to try and understand what led him to hurting Kyle Harmon.”
Dowman furrowed his brow in confusion. “I’m listening.”
The whole story took about ten minutes to get through - how Horatio had found this boy, how they’d all learned Kyle was his son, how difficult it had been for Ray Junior to learn the truth about his uncle, and the rest. None of the details were airbrushed, the pain in her voice and Ray Junior’s eyes incredibly real.
In truth, it was uncommon for her to share so much with someone who was a relative stranger. And as the words came out her mouth, Yelina couldn’t help but wonder where Horatio was. After all, if anyone should have been revealing this truth, it should have been him.
It should have been him, because this was all his fault, even as part of her recognized that it wasn’t. He should have been the one here, because… she had already suffered enough. And telling someone this story was a shameful, almost degrading act that she hadn’t earned.
Her whole body rebelling at her current reality, she struggled to listen to what the principal was saying. But through the almost incessant need to throw up, Yelina heard the offer he made.
A week’s suspension.
A notation on his permanent record.
She agreed to it immediately.
And even more immediately, the mother regretted doing so, as she and Ray Junior walked out to the car in the parking lot. Her son arrogantly strutting next to her, he asked her, “See? I knew you’d get me out of this, Mommy.”
The sarcasm in the last word was breathtaking, literally seemingly capable of stealing all the oxygen in the late morning air. Struggling to inhale, Yelina rationally understood why he would twist and stain all the wonderful connotations of “Mommy.”
She let it get to her.
But how could she not?
How could that not affect her?
Spinning around angrily to face him, Yelina warned him, “You haven’t been expelled. That doesn’t mean you’re out of trouble, little one,” she said with a sneer.
“I’m not going to jail,” he said snottily.
Her response was quick, honest. “By the time I’m done with you, Raymond, you’ll wish you were in prison.”
Sarcastically, Ray asked, “What - you gonna get the belt? A wire coat hanger or something?”
In complete seriousness, Yelina told him, “You’ll wish I had done that too.”
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