Bear by MariaLisa deMora

Author:MariaLisa deMora [deMora, MariaLisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MLK Publishing
Published: 2014-11-24T05:00:00+00:00

25 -

Rafe

It had been a couple of weeks since he’d rolled into town, and Bear was sitting across the desk from Bingo in the clubhouse office, staring at a printout of an email. “There ain’t nobody else, Bear,” Bingo said, palms flat on the desktop. “Rabid’s gone to Chicago. Mason wanted to see him, and I got no idea when he’ll be coming back. This teacher won’t let shit go until he gets to talk to someone responsible for the kid.” The email was from the school Rabid’s oldest son attended, and it emphasized the need for a parent or guardian to be present at a meeting the next day.

Bear ran the tip of his tongue along the edge of his teeth, shaking his head. He tossed the paper back onto the desk. “I’m not responsible for the kid, not legally. The teacher won’t be able to talk to me. There’re all kinds of privacy laws and shit. Dammit. You’re raising a passel of kids. Why don’t you go?”

“Tyler, my nephew, has football practice. I gotta be there for that.” Bingo rubbed his forehead with his palms, saying, “Kids are a fucking handful. I don’t know how my sister did it by herself for so long.” He sighed. “I need an old lady. I also need you to do this; there isn’t anyone else remotely qualified. Look at all the hard shit you’ve handled for the club through the years. One little piss-ant of a teacher shouldn’t even make you break a sweat.”

“Tell you what, I’m gonna think about it, but first I want to talk to the boy. It’s been a couple of years since he’s seen me. I’ll let him get a feel for what’s going down. Then, if it’s okay with Rafe, you’ll have to get Rabid to write a letter, or better, why don’t you get Myron to draft a power of attorney that we can sign. That keeps us on the right side of the line. No reason to draw attention on small shit like this, right?” He couldn’t believe he was going to agree to do this.

Ten o’clock the next morning, Bear was sitting in a local Greek restaurant with a cup of coffee, waiting on the teacher to show. With the morning rush over and the lunch crowd a couple hours away, he was the only customer, and there was nothing to distract him from his thoughts. The teacher’s name was listed as E. Morgan in the email, but the guy had signed the email informally as Eddie, so hopefully he wouldn’t have a stick too far up his ass and this wouldn’t be excessively painful for a Monday.

He’d talked to Rafe for a long time last night, and was impressed by him. To look at him, you’d never know he struggled with anything, but Bear had learned the boy had a crippling insecurity stemming from the knowledge he was different from other teenagers his age, the ones the grandmother called neuro-typical. Autism was a subtle bitch when she wanted to be.

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