A stunned silence fell on his hostess as Paul finished the description of Kermit's breakdown. Obviously, the details had been brand-new information.

"Kermit...." she whispered in compassion for his torture. "He told me that there was some sort of fight and he was arrested. According to him, this was the reason that he couldn't bring Marilyn and David to live with him. Social Services would never approve him as their guardian if he had a record." Looking over at Paul, she displayed her shock. "I never dreamed that it was that bad."

"It was as if the pressure had been building for months. All he wanted was to be normal again. That was impossible and Kermit just didn't understand. Marilyn and David didn't understand." It was evident from the look in Paul Blaisdell's eyes that he felt responsible for the disaster that befell that young man from long ago. "None of us could ever be the same after being in that godforsaken place. All he could do is was 'make do' with what we...he had left."

Briefly, the older man gave a glimpse into his own scars. Quickly, he snapped his mask into place.

The lapse wasn't lost on Savannah Griffin. Paul's hurt was painted in every impassioned word he selected to describe Kermit's life and pain. The empathy of a father.

"I can see how that incident would push him over the edge." Knowing him the way she did, Savannah knew his limits. "There is nothing he despises more than a bully. Anyone trying to overpower someone weaker or powerless is at his mercy. It's one of his finer, albeit more dangerous, qualities."

"From the sound of that 'playground incident' with Kat, he's passed that battleground on to her." Paul saw the pride Kermit took in his daughter. Hopefully, he would be able to temper those urges in her so that she would avoid trouble more successfully than her old man.

"No doubt. Perhaps we should start saving up bail money." Savannah smiled, and then frowned thoughtfully. "How did you know so much about what happened if you weren't there?"

"What I described was an account told to me by Kermit, Mrs. Latham, and the arresting officers," Paul explained. "I put the story together once I got there."

Savannah leaned back to hear the remainder of the story. The next chapter would be heartbreaking but she had to hear. Needed to know about his struggle. Needed to hear it from Paul's point of view. From someone who loved him as much as she did.

"Marilyn called me," Paul continued. "She was crying. Non-stop. She said Kermit had been arrested, in jail, and refused to see her. The ever-charitable Aunt Helen had left him to rot in jail.

"Half the town thought he should be put in an insane asylum, the other half thought he should be shot. Put down like a mad dog. Those that knew him and loved him, nice folks like Mrs. Buckley and Mrs. Latham, were in shock. Unable to believe it even though they saw it with their own eyes." He looked up into Savannah's eyes. "Believe me, I didn't like being right."

*****

"Sir, he won't see you," the pimply-faced young man said, standing before him. "He's refused to see anyone. He didn't even want to see the court-appointed lawyer. Just lies there with his head in his arms. Everyone's afraid to touch him."

*Good. About time,* Paul Blaisdell thought. Then, something else occurred to him. "You took away his glasses, didn't you?"

"All personal effects are locked up, yes, sir," the young man said haughtily.

Paul sighed. No wonder.... "Son, here's what I want you to do. First, get his glasses. They're not just sunglasses. He needs them for medical reasons."

The young man, with a badge bearing the name Sumner, gasped. "We didn't know they were prescription!" he exclaimed. "They look like regular sunglasses!"

Paul let the lie stand on its own as Sumner fetched the glasses. Besides, Paul didn't lie. Kermit DID need them even though they weren't prescription-made. "Next, go to his cell and tell him that *Paul Blaisdell* is here to see him. I guarantee you, he'll look up. When he looks up, show him the glasses. Give him the glasses. Then bring him out here. Got all that?"

Sumner gulped at the idea of being in close proximity with anyone who could break a man's jaw. "Yes, sir."

Paul waited as he mused as to just what he was going to have to do. He didn't really want to show his I.D. The Agency frowned on agents using their clout for personal business. Moments later, Kermit came walking out meekly, preceded by a stunned Sumner, grateful that he was still breathing. Paul found it tough to see his expression behind dark glasses but he didn't like what he saw. He had to confirm it....

He took a seat as Kermit took the other across the way from the table set up for that purpose.

"You were right," Kermit said flatly. "Make you happy?"

"You know better than that," Paul chided him gently. "What happened?"

"Isn't it obvious? I lost it." Kermit slumped. "I thought I could hold it in....Well, you don't have to waste any more time on me. I'm pleading guilty."

"WHAT?!"

"The whole town saw me," Kermit told him. "If I said I was innocent, I wouldn't have much of a case, would I?"

"You could plead 'innocent by reason of temporary insanity,'" Paul pointed out.

"Thanks but no. The lawyer suggested that, too. But I'd rather be a felon than a mental case. You get more respect that way."

Paul swore silently. He hadn't considered that factor. When they were handing out pride, Kermit went back for fourths. He'd rather have a town hate him than pity him. "Kermit," he said softly, "do you have any idea what will happen to you?"

He did. Paul could see that he did. They both knew that Kermit would either get killed by someone bigger and better than he was or that Kermit would continue to kill until the state had no choice but to put him on death row. Then the problem would be solved - forever. Kermit was willing to sacrifice himself to protect those that he loved. Every time.

Paul slammed his fist down on the table, startling both of them. *I won't let that happen!* Paul thought fiercely, rising from the table. *Kermit may have accepted his death sentence but *I* haven't! And I never will!*

"Paul-?"

"Sit tight, kid," Paul snapped and, without a second look, stormed out of the building.

*****

Savannah couldn't help it. She crossed over to the couch where he reclined and kissed him on the cheek. "THANK you!" she whispered. "I know I've said it before...but thank you...SO much!!!" Paul patted her shoulder in comfort. She sank back on the cushions next to him. "Where did you go first?" she asked.

"The hospital," Paul said. "I had to buy absolution for Kermit again, hoping that money would be all that it would take. I went to Donny's and Blake's parents and told them that I'd take care of all medical bills. I wasn't thrilled with helping the jerks that had tormented Kermit and his best friend but I just looked on it as trying to clean up Kermit's record. Luckily, he didn't manage to kill them so the situation wasn't totally hopeless."

"They agreed not to press charges?" Savannah could hardly believe it. The man before her was more formidable than she'd ever imagined. Paul Blaisdell could do anything. That much was evidenced by the presence of one stubborn man with the flu sleeping in her bed.

Paul twisted his expression at the memory of the two young men. One in well-deserved traction and the other with both arms in plaster casts. "Their parents knew they'd raised crap...excuse the French. I could see it in their faces. When I offered the money, they were willing to avoid having their offspring's cruelty spread out for the public record."

"Then I talked to the Sheriff. He wasn't pleased with me or my I.D...."

*****

"Mr. Blaisdell," Sheriff Talley snapped, "a crime has been committed here. That vicious young man must PAY!"

"He's already paid," Paul pointed out softly. "In more ways than you can imagine...."

"Oh, please! Don't hand me the wounded-Vet crap-"

"CRAP!?!?" Paul caught his breath and restrained his temper. "Do you have any IDEA, Sheriff, how many VA hospitals are filled to the BRIM with soldiers just like Kermit because of that insanity called Vietnam? And Benjy? I can tell you - I was there, too. I saw it. And let me tell you something else. Kermit's scars are just as bad as Benjy's - Kermit can just hide it better, that's all." Paul had to catch himself from saying more. He didn't want the whole town to know that Kermit had fought ten months in the hospital to get as far as he'd gotten now.

"All the more reason that he should be committed!" Sheriff Talley began to pace. "You have any idea what that...BOY did to those two??? Unarmed, two against one...."

"I know. I've seen it. And I can handle him. I'm probably the only one who can." At the sheriff's quizzical look, Paul sighed. "I was his C.O. He respects me and he'll do as I say. Release him into my custody."

"Just RELEASE HIM!?!?"

"Yes." Paul drove his point home. "I can take him out of town. Forever. Don't you want an end to all the hassle?"

Sheriff Talley sat down. "I know one young lady who won't like that," he muttered.

"Marilyn?" Paul didn't think that the Sheriff knew Marilyn that well.

"Miss Griffin has been coming in every day. Asking about him, asking to see him, bringing him treats....She's a nice, young lady," the sheriff mused. Paul, letting his gaze roam around the office, found a family picture of the sheriff, his wife and three daughters. Beside that photo was another that stopped Paul in his tracks. A young man in uniform.

*Found a soft spot!* Paul thought. "Don't you think she'd rather have him with me, under control, than committed or in prison? Come on, Sheriff," Paul coaxed. "You know this could get sticky since Donny and Blake were originally the aggressors. This could be a thorn in your side for years. Or I could take him away right now....Your choice."

The sheriff walked over to his family photos proudly displayed in his office. Looking at them, then turning back to the determined man observing his every move, he answered, "Choices...it seems that the war has taken choices away from a lot of us, Mr. Blaisdell."

Paul was on the right track. "Sheriff, you've lived here all your life, haven't you?"

Smiling, the man replied, "Small-town born and bred. And to answer your next question, yes, I knew Kermit and Benjy. Watched them dump water balloons off the roof of the hardware store. Soap windows on Halloween. Play ball on the field just down the street. Then...I watched them disappear." The pain and loss was evident on the man's face. "That damn war took three young men from this town. One came back a vegetable and one came back a trained killer."

"The other one?" Paul questioned, glancing from the sheriff to the photo, knowing the answer.

"My son, Randal." Now, he picked up the frame and dusted it with his sleeve. "He was a few years older than Kermit and the Latham boy. They weren't really friends but they went to high school together. Randal signed up. We were so proud. Maybe that's why he did it, I don't know.

"Anyway, Randal had only been overseas for two months. On his first leave, he was on the street in Saigon. Some kid, just a little kid, ran up to him and offered him a Coke. A reminder of home."

Paul knew the end to this story. *Dammit! Why didn't somebody warn the kid?!*

"It was full of glass. He was dead in hours. For nothing." The man lovingly replaced the photo and looked up at his new confidante. "So, you see, Mr. Blaisdell, I understand more about this than you thought. I also understand what Kermit's been through. I saw the scars. But the fact remains that Kermit Griffin is a dangerous young man. Regardless of my personal feelings, how can I just let him loose? What he's been through doesn't give him free reign to maim and kill. Hell, *I'M* scared of the kid!"

"He wasn't ready. I can help him learn how to control himself. Kermit thought he could ignore my warnings but now, he knows better." Willing the man to bend, Paul dropped his authoritative tone and addressed the sheriff on their common ground. "This kid...I mean, I swore on his father's grave to take care of him. Like my own son. I can't just let him commit suicide in prison. Not while I'm still breathing."

Without another word, the sheriff signed the papers and shoved them into Paul's hands. "Let him say good-bye and get him the hell out of here by the end of the week."

Paul didn't give the man time to change his mind. He gathered Kermit from his holding cell and they both went to Kermit's tiny apartment to pack.

*****

"Is that when you brought him into the agency?" Savannah couldn't help but be relieved by the details of the story. Even though she knew how the story ended, she was on the edge of her control as every word spilled from her 'father-in-law'.

Paul's eyebrows climbed up into his hair. "Is THAT what he told you? Well, I didn't *bring him into the agency*. He crawled right over me and insinuated himself into the organization." Paul's annoyance at the misrepresentation was evident. "They had been after him for months and he'd turned them down. After the arrest, there was no hope for him to restore his family. He didn't feel he had anywhere else to go."

Savannah frowned, realizing that Kermit hadn't exactly lied to her. Only toyed with the facts. It annoyed her, also. "He made it sound like you recruited him to be your partner."

"Not hardly."

*****

"Have you lost your mind?!!" Paul Blaisdell's tone reeked of anger, disapproval, and fear. All of the things he had dreaded were about to come true. "I didn't save your bony ass to have you jump back into the fire."

Kermit leaned nonchalantly on a tree trunk, giving his mentor a sullen expression. Detachment had become his protection. Raised voices no longer had an effect over him. "They asked. I said yes. I have something of value to them."

The chilling facts were indisputable. Some of the conditioning Paul could reverse. The training, he could not. Kermit was a young, strong man with the skills of a trained killer. They could not be unlearned. Those deadly talents were part of him now. Controlled but alive. The only mystery lay in how they would surface. Who would make use of them? Paul stared in dismay at the battlefield that would lie before his 'adopted' son.

Reducing his volume, Paul switched into persuasion mode. "Kermit, these people will eat you alive. You'll think you're on the right side, then that one minute piece of information they withhold from you will rise up against you. The truth is relative to the agency. They'll use you, kid."

The younger man never raised his voice. He merely cocked his head to the side and answered, "Nobody uses me. I'll do what *I* want." Quirking a sarcastic smile, he said, "Why should all this on-the-job training go to waste?"

Paul's fury took over. Snatching a handful of Kermit's shirt, he raged down into the younger man's face. "You little IDIOT!! You are TWENTY-THREE years old!!! You don't know shit and you're too STUPID to listen to me. Do you think I risked my neck for you to become a mercenary and spread your guts over every continent on the planet?!!"

The now-familiar voice was screaming in Kermit's mind. *Kill him. He touched you. Kill him.* Kermit's will fought the urge. Glued his hands to his side. His words issuing slowly from his throat. Disguising the battle raging within between the killer and the man. "What else is left for me, Paul? Where else can I go? What else can I do? I'm right this time. You know it and I know it." He stared down at the large hands wrinkling his shirt until they released him. "And besides, the money's great...or so you've said."

*Damn....* Paul saw the clear motivations now. Following in his footsteps. Trying to make good from the vile skills the VC drilled into him. And there was that need to provide for Marilyn and David.

Paul Blaisdell had made his choices years ago. But they were HIS choices. No one had coerced him. No one had forced any training on him that he didn't seek out on his own. Paul summoned the killer in himself when it was needed. Not like the young man before him. Kermit must use all of his will to fight the killer born in the Hanoi Hilton. It was the master to be defied.

"Kermit...don't do this. Think about your family."

"My family?" Kermit remained impassive. "You know I have to leave town. That was the deal. What else can I do to help my family? The only way I can help them is to get a high-paying job and remove myself from their presence. That's what I'm doing. It's already been done."

"Your father wouldn't-"

"My father's DEAD!" The pain surfaced and he spat the words up into the taller man's face. "And YOU are not my father. I'm leaving for Virginia in the morning. It's out of your hands."

Paul could only remain silent as Kermit shrugged past him and went back inside. Out of his hands. *Not bloody likely, kid,* he thought.

*****

"I don't give a damn WHAT he says. Don't take him. He's crazy and he'll be a liability," Paul snarled into the receiver. He'd selected a pay phone outside a local diner in town. As anonymous as he could hope to be, given the circumstances.

The voice calmly replied, "Sanity has never been a prerequisite for our associates, Paul."

"He's all screwed up. He'll get someone killed. It's not worth the investment." Paul pushed every button within reach to force a refusal.

"Paul, your entanglement with this one is no secret. Think," the voice demanded. "What's left for him now? Do you think you can send him off to college? Get him a desk job? Not with the beast that's in him now."

The beast. He knew the voice was right. Paul had only hoped for someone to prove him wrong. This was not to be. These last few days was evident of that. But there was one barrier left that he could throw up in front of Kermit Griffin. One more protection he could still offer. "Let me train him. I've already started. Let me finish."

"That will be acceptable. Even preferable." The dialtone echoed into Paul Blaisdell's ear. Announcing the next phase to come.

*****

Kermit was hurriedly packing. The busier he stayed, the easier it was to fight the anxiety. Thinking about destroying Marilyn and David ate at his insides. His promises were lies. Another failure to add to the list.

A soft knock at the back door interrupted his self-loathing. "Paul, do you actually think I need to lock the door?!" he growled at the intrusion into his thoughts. Jerking open the door, he found a small, dark haired memory.

"Kermit," the woman said, timidly, "can I come in?" She shifted from one foot to the other. Nervously twisting a ring on her left hand.

"Calley...." He didn't know what to say. It had been four years without a word. Without a look. Here she was, standing in front of the lion's den without a clue of the danger. "You shouldn't be here."

Growing more courageous with every passing second, Calley ignored his warning and walked past him into the apartment. The suitcases were no surprise. She already knew the story. Already knew he was leaving. "I meant to come see you before-"

"I haven't been hiding." He folded his arms and leaned back on the door frame. Allowing himself an escape route should his control begin to fade. He wouldn't hurt her.

"I have." They both stood, quietly appraising the changes four years had wrought on the other.

Kermit had to look down at her. Even in junior high, before he got his adolescent growth spurt, she was always a head shorter. Her deep brown hair was now cropped in a stylish shag and he couldn't help but notice the bright blue sweater she wore over her knee length dress. Blue was her favorite color. She'd insisted on a blue flower in her hair that night they drove to the justice of the peace. Matched her eyes.

As she watched him inspecting her, Calley remembered the last time she had seen him. Getting on the bus and leaving for Vietnam. After their one night together in that tiny motel beside the highway. An impetuous event in both of their lives. His face didn't look like the other twenty-three year old men she knew. The young boy she had loved and put on a Greyhound barely haunted the worn features before her. This meeting was more painful than she ever imagined it would be.

Breaking the horrible silence, Calley said, "I'd ask how you are, but I can see how you are." She wanted to touch him but the guilt stayed her hand. "Kermit, I didn't want the annulment. They made me. My parents...they pressured me night and day. I...I...."

She started to cry and his distance melted. Pulling her into his arms, Kermit comforted his former bride. "Don't be sorry, Calley. They were right. If you were married to me now, you'd regret it."

They had dated through high school, on the sly. Calley Robinson's parents had definite desires for their daughter. College and marrying 'up'. Kermit Griffin did not fit into their plans. When he was drafted, the Robinsons thought their prayers had been answered. Until Calley and Kermit eloped the night before he shipped out.

Six months of incessant nagging finally took its toll on Calley and she gave in to their wishes. A terse letter from their attorney reached Kermit in between missions. Signaling the end of his fantasy. The fantasy of a normal wife and home waiting for him when his nightmare concluded.

Calley pulled herself together and looked up into his sunglasses - not questioning why he wore them indoors. "I am sorry I hurt you. If I made things worse for you...I mean...I should have been here waiting when you came home."

He realized that she felt somehow responsible for his current 'problems'. "Calley, don't feel bad. You couldn't have helped me. That place did it. Not you." Stroking the side of her cheek, he asked about the ring on her finger. "Are you married now?"

Embarrassed, she twirled the ring around and around. Sorry that she hadn't taken it off before coming over. "Engaged. It's a boy I met at college. The wedding is in June."

"You'll make a beautiful bride." This time, she'd have all the trappings of a formal wedding. He was glad for her. In spite of the rejection, a piece of him still loved her. A piece he couldn't shut off. Maybe one of the few good things left in him.

But it was time for her to leave. This wasn't helping either one of them. "Calley, before you go, would you promise me something?"

"Of course. Anything."

"Check in on Benjy from time to time. I don't know if he'll ever be any better, but he deserves a little...gentleness. I don't want him to be forgotten." Kermit stepped back and broke their contact.

"Sure I will." She smiled and turned to leave. Pausing at the door, she tactfully made a request. "And if you'll write, I'll read the letters to him when I visit."

"I'll think about it." He turned away and Calley went out the front door as Paul Blaisdell came in through the back. Kermit knew he had been standing there. Monitoring. Chaperoning.

Without looking his way, Kermit tossed, "Suppose you heard the whole thing."

"Yes." Paul never met Calley Robinson Griffin but he'd seen the aftermath of her rejection. He'd watched Kermit casually sign the annulment documents, drop them in the mail pouch, then pump five hundred rounds of ammunition into the jungle. When he was done, he never mentioned it again. "Are you okay, kid?"

The only answer Kermit offered was an eerie laughter, bordering on hysteria, as he picked up his suitcase and headed out to his next heartbreak. Marilyn and David.

*****

Calley Robinson. Kermit's high school sweetheart. Savannah knew how he'd married her on the day before he shipped out. An impetuous and uncharacteristic move for her careful and considerate husband. So many women had let him down. At least now, he had a woman who would stay, no matter what.

"How did Kermit ever find the words to tell his family that he was leaving?" Savannah and Marilyn had truly become family. She was a gentle soul who loved her brother. "Marilyn must have been devastated. And David..."

"That kid was a mess from dealing with both of his parents' deaths. He saw Kermit's departure as an abandonment. Marilyn understood more than she should have for someone her age but even she couldn't make it any easier. For Kermit or for David." Paul obviously hurt at the memory. "I didn't want to intrude on their farewell, but David was so volatile. If he vented his anger physically against his brother, I had to be there."

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10     

Back to serie's index      Back to Story index