A Breath, A Sigh, A Nod - Chapter 3

Early morning sunlight filtered through the blind-covered window as James sat on his bed waiting for Karen, Joey, and the twins to return from Sunday morning mass. He had stayed home to finish packing and was now just waiting to say his goodbyes before Blakeney swung by to pick him up. Nervousness and anxiety coursed through him as he studied the school pamphlet for what seemed like the hundredth time. What will the students be like there? Will I even fit in? He kept wondering. It’s not like I’ll be leaving again in a few more months, like every other school. I’ll be finishing out this year and all of next. He sighed. Well, I guess I’ll get through it just like every other time—make a few friends and trudge it out the best I can. 

    Changing track, he thought about when he broke the news to Joey yesterday and how the normally comic, easygoing boy had actually cried for a bit. James hadn’t known how much the younger boy had really thought of him as an older brother. That conversation hadn’t felt good—more like knives wrenched in his gut. For a moment, he’d considered changing his mind, but knew that his saying no and staying here wouldn’t matter much. 

    Karen was right. 

    He or Joey—or both, for that matter—could be sent off to another foster home at any time and never see each other again. Then where would he be? Though still a little hesitant, James was becoming more and more comfortable with his decision. He was just going to have to stay resolute, knowing that it was what was best for him. 

    In spite of himself, he couldn’t help but look at the bright side. He was going to get to play lacrosse again. He had tried out for the lacrosse team at his last school and to his surprise—and the surprise of the coaches and everyone else on the team—he was a natural at the game. James had enjoyed playing lacrosse so much that, if he was honest with himself, the opportunity to play again was probably a bigger factor in his choice than he was admitting to anyone else. 

    With a sigh and a nod, he gazed around his stripped-bare bedroom as the sunlight intensified. All of his clothes and what few personal items he had were packed up in the three large suitcases Blakeney had brought for him. A few of his smaller items—iPod, a book and magazine, and his toothbrush and toothpaste—were in a backpack for a carry-on, and around his neck he wore his mother’s necklace. 

    A soft knock on the door interrupted his final gaze around the room. The door opened, and he turned to see Karen dressed in her Sunday best. “Hey,” she said softly with a small smile.

    “Hey,” he replied quietly.

    “Mind if I come in and sit and talk for a bit?”

    “Of course not.” James scooted over to make room for her on the end of the bed.

    She looked around the room, seeing everything packed, and looked in his eyes. She studied him for a moment, then slowly nodded, smiling. “You know, James, you’re going to do great.”

    “You think so?” 

    “Yes, I do. You’re an amazing young man and I have been so blessed to have gotten to know you these past several months. You’ve been such a help to me with everything around here and . . . yes, we will miss you around here, but there won’t be another opportunity like this,” she said, a quiver of emotion in her voice.

    He glanced down, pretending to study his hands. “I know . . . I know.”

    “Don’t worry about us here and don’t worry about Joey too much. He’ll be fine. It’ll be good for him to find his own way and not be dependent on you, you know.”

    “Yeah.” He sighed and looked up. “Would you mind if I called from time to time and . . . I don’t know, caught up and updated you on everything?”

    “You better!” She smiled playfully.

    The dour mood of the conversation broken, Karen glanced at her watch, noted the time, and stood up. “Well, he’ll be here any minute, so let’s grab these bags and move them to the front door so you’ll be ready.”

    “Yes, ma’am.” He paused. “Karen?”

    “Yeah?” she said, cocking her head slightly. 

    “Thanks . . . for everything,” James said, voice shaking, the beginnings of tears welling up in his eyes.

    She looked at him for a moment and embraced him in a hug. Pulling back, she heaved a sigh. “Now stop all that before you make me cry. C’mon and hustle up! Let’s get these bags up front.”

    James chuckled deeply and stopped up his emotions. “All right.”

    No sooner had they finished dragging the suitcases to the front door than the silver Ford that Blakeney had rented pulled into the driveway. James watched the man climb out of the car, and before Blakeney reached the front door, James had already opened it and was moving the suitcases onto the front porch. “Good morning, James,” called Blakeney genially, extending a hand.

    “Morning, Mr. Blakeney.”

    “I see you’re all packed and ready?”

    “Yes, sir,” he said with finality. “Just need to say goodbye.”

    Blakeney smiled. “Oh, by all means, take your time, son.”

    James headed back inside to say goodbye to Joey and the twins while Karen and Blakeney exchanged pleasantries. “Catch you later, man,” he said to Joey.

    “See ya, bro.” The young boy looked down at his shoes. “Hey . . . um . . . do good up there, ‘kay?”

    “You got it.”

    Joey glanced up at him with a crooked smile and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “All those prep school girls . . . make sure and catch ya a few hotties, huh?”

    Laughing, James replied, “I’ll do my best.”

    They embraced and James got down onto a knee to be at eye level with the twins. “Bye Hayley. Bye Jordan,” he said in that high-pitched voice people reserve for toddlers.

    “Bwye Jayee,” they said in unison.

    “I’ll miss you two.”

    “Yea . . . miss you.”

    With a chuckle and a kiss on the forehead for each of the girls he stood, took a deep breath, and pursed his lips in resolution. He was ready for the next phase of his life. But first—“Bye, Karen.” He looked at her for a quick second before hugging her. “Thanks again for everything.”

    She smiled at him as she held him at arm’s length. “Of course. You just make sure and knock ‘em dead up there and keep in touch. Okay?”

    “Count on it.”

    He told Blakeney he was ready and they headed out the door. After the luggage was loaded and he had climbed into the car, James glanced back at the tiny porch and waved goodbye once last time. As the car pulled out to head down the street, he looked away and with a breath, a sigh, and a nod, closed that chapter of his life.

    The ride to the airport was mostly silent, save a few questions here and there, and Blakeney left James to his own thoughts.  Eventually he tired of it and asked, “What’s it like to fly? I . . . uh . . . I’ve never flown before.”

    “Hmm.” Blakeney looked pensive. “Well, it feels a little weird at first. Almost as if your body knows it is supposed to be on the ground and not pulled up into the air by machines made of just aluminum, metal screws, hardened plastic, and cloth seats.”

    James turned to him. “Um . . . wow. Er . . . thanks?”

    Seeing the reaction on his face Blakeney hurried to say, “No, no, don’t worry. For the most part they’re perfectly safe. Much safer than driving in a car, actually.” He chuckled softly. “It’s actually kind of fun when you can get up and walk around and it feels like your legs are continually being pulled down after each step.”

    “I think I’ll just stay sitting and read,” James said apprehensively.

    “Suit yourself. But we do have a good few hours flight before we reach D.C., and I always find that it’s nice to move some on long flights.”

    “Do you fly a lot?” James wanted to know.

    “Not as much as I used to,” Blakeney said with a slow nod. “Before my time as director of Mount Olympus, I traveled a lot giving lectures at several universities on international relations, the Greek and Roman Empires, things like that. Moving around that much can wear you down after a bit. Living out of a suitcase isn’t really ideal for me. So, when the head of school position at Mount Olympus opened up, I applied and was accepted and haven’t traveled nearly as much since. Just the odd plane flight here and there.”

    “Wow. I’ve never even been out of the southwest. The furthest I’ve been . . . let’s see”—James searched his memory—“would probably have to be the Grand Canyon. One family I was with, the mom was all gung-ho about us seeing national parks and historical sites. Other than that, I haven’t actually been outside of New Mexico much at all.”

    “Well, I know it will take you a while then to get used to it all. Especially the humidity. It’s pretty arid throughout the southwest, but on most of the east coast—especially the D.C. area—it is very humid. And green, of course.”

    “That’s cool, I guess.”

    “Our campus is landscaped lovingly, with great attention to detail. Most of the indigenous variations of Virginian plant life can be found on our vast grounds.”

    “Yeah, I noticed from the pamphlet that it looks . . . different from the average school,” James said.

    “It is, it is.” Blakeney replied as he saw their exit.

    They both fell into silence again as the car pulled off the interstate for the airport. Once into the airport grounds, Blakeney found the rental return lot, parked there, and waited with James to catch the tram that would take them to the right concourse. Never having had a reason to fly, James found himself taking in the decorations and buildings for the first time. Right at the entrance there was a massive turn-of-the-century-style biplane. I wonder what it would’ve been like to fly in that, he wondered. Looks like nothing more than some paper and wood. 

    Man, they must’ve been crazy. 

    As they passed the plane, he saw the kind of Native American exhibits that would be more at home in a museum. After a few more minutes of walking, they arrived at the baggage check and ticketing counter. The airport was actually somewhat empty, so they advanced quickly through the short line and completed everything with little fanfare. 

    When they reached the gate, they didn’t have to wait long before James heard “Delta flight 4401, departure for Atlanta, now boarding,” from the speakers overhead. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he followed Blakeney to the gate, gave the attendant his ticket, and walked down a walkway into the plane. 

    His first thought upon entering the plane door was that it was actually kind of noisy. There was a constant hissing sound, like air escaping a ball or something. He asked Blakeney about it as they took their seats, and Blakeney explained that it was air circulating and being cooled. 

    The same air is used throughout the whole plane over and over . . . for hours? I hope no one’s sick! James thought. 

    After everyone had sat down, the flight attendants stood to give a presentation about safety and how to use the oxygen masks and inflatable vests. 

    What would I need an inflatable vest for? We aren’t going to be over water, so I doubt that will help very much if we crashed and slammed into the—stop it! Why am I thinking about all this so much? He asked himself. Calm down. Just relax. 

    James could hear the engines roar to life as the captain started them up and taxied away from the gate. As the plane turned and lined up on the runway, the sound and vibration from the engines reverberated throughout the cabin. He turned to look out the window and saw the ground moving by increasingly faster. Suddenly, the world outside flashing by, James felt the plane take off, and with it, felt like his stomach had dropped out and been left on the ground. 

    James closed his eyes for a few moments and breathed deeply. 

    Finally, his ears popped. He opened his eyes and looked out the window. The plane was soaring above the ground and still climbing as they turned easy to pass over the Sandia Mountains. James couldn’t help but look down in amazement at how high up they were. 

    This is incredible! What was I afraid of again? 

    A weird feeling of normalcy came over him. He couldn’t describe it, but it was like he was made to be up here. He shook it off and spotted Blakeney smiling indulgently at him. 

    “You look like a kid on Christmas morning,” Blakeney observed with a small chuckle.

    Wonder filled his every breath. “This is incredible.”

    “If you like this, wait until you get up and walk around some.”

    “I think I’ll do that,” he paused before saying, “I can’t believe I’ve never flown before.”

    Blakeney chuckled softly. “Just sit back and enjoy it. We’ll get some drinks and snacks in a bit.”

    “Sounds good.” James stared out the window again.

    By now they had climbed so high the landscape below looked like nothing more than flat, arid land—which of course it was, so that wasn’t saying much. But from this point of view, even the largest trees looked to James like nothing more than the smallest of insects crawling on the ground. The sensation of flying, the vibration and hum of the engines, and the elevation, was like nothing he had ever experienced before. 

    “What would you like to drink?” a flight attendant asked, breaking his reverie. 

    “Oh, um . . . Sprite?” replied James.

    She handed him his drink. “First time flying?”

    “Yeah, actually. How’d you know?”

    “You can always tell, sweetie.” She held his gaze for a moment before smiling at him and moving on.

    When she was finally out of earshot, Blakeney leaned in and laughed softly. “I think she was flirting with you.”

    “Nuh-uh. Really?” James swiveled in his seat to get a look at the attendant, now several rows back.

    “Yes,” Blakeney said, still chuckling. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but she’s a bit too old for you.” 

    “If you say so.”

    Blakeney heaved a sigh and spoke to the ceiling. “I don’t think you’ll be having too much trouble attracting the attention of the fairer sex.”

    James shook his head. “Yeah, but most times, too much attention causes problems,” he said quietly.

    “The few fights on your record, eh?”

    “Yes, sir. I’m not proud of them…but I’ve never started a fight myself. It always stemmed from jealousy and being the new kid . . . I guess so, anyway.” James shrugged and looked at his hands.

    “I’m sure it would be hard to change schools so often. You will be able to lead a more stable life at Mount Olympus. You’ll also find that there are a few students whose parents are in the armed forces and moved around a lot as well before coming to the academy.”

    “So it’s only a high school?”

    “Yes, that’s right. We’ve found that it’s much easier to maintain the environment when all the students are closer in age,” Blakeney responded thoughtfully.

    “Makes sense. You said the property for the school is vast . . . how big is it?”

    “The academy actually owns several square miles. As I’ve said before, we have very supportive alumni. This allows us not only to have immaculate grounds but also technologically modern aspects while the buildings are modeled after Greek and Roman Architecture.”

    James had noticed by now that whenever Blakeney spoke of the academy, he seemed to be speaking more of an old friend than a few buildings. “Sounds cool. I’ve always enjoyed learning about those two cultures and I’ve always wanted to see those famous buildings up close.”

    “Then you’ll enjoy not only Mount Olympus, but D.C. as well. There are many areas of our nation’s capital which were based on the same types of architectural designs.” Blakeney’s eyes flashed as if they held a great secret. “Quite a funny story in that, actually.”

    “What’s that?” James asked, facing Blakeney head on.

    “Oh, I’ll tell you more about it while we’re touring the—”

    “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking,” the speakers above them sounded. “Please fasten your seat belts and secure any loose items. It seems we will be heading through a small thunderstorm and will be experiencing some turbulence. Thank you.”

    As soon as the announcement was over, James choked down a shaky breath. “Turbulence? . . . What does he mean, turbulence?”

    “Well… it seems that with this being your first flight, you’ll get to experience all the aspects of flying,” Blakeney said. “Just relax and don’t get worried about all this. Happens all the time.”

    James sat back and closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about flying in a thunderstorm. It was like his nightmare was coming to fruition. Who wants to fly through a storm? 

    The plane began to shake, and James saw a streak of light just to the left, even with his eyes clamped shut. Although he knew it would only torture him more to look, he couldn’t help it. 

    As the plane shook and jolted, his eyes went wide in fear, and he saw lightning streaking all around wings. 

    The fear in his mouth a bitter tang, he screwed his eyes shut and repeated, “It’s not like my dream, it’s not like my dream, it’s not like my dream,” over and over to himself. 

    His stomach slammed up into his chest as the plane dropped and began to shake with a renewed vigor. He clamped his arms so tightly against the armrests that his fingers lost circulation. He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears, and tasted blood in his mouth. He’d bitten his tongue. “I wish it would stop!” he cried suddenly, just loud enough for Blakeney to hear. 

    It happened then, as if a switch had been flicked, like some giant on/off button for the sky. The lightning stopped, the clouds dissipated, and the turbulence receded into nothingness. 

    James inhaled and exhaled slowly to regain control of his racing heart. As his pulse finally returned to normal, he opened his eyes and looked out the window at a cloudless sky as bright blue as the clearest Caribbean waters. With a last deep breath, he looked at Blakeney and met the wide, dark gray eyes of the older man. 

    Before either one spoke, the speakers overhead came on again. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. It seems that the storm wasn’t as bad as we thought, and we have passed through it already. Thank you for remaining calm, and for your convenience we will now turn off the fasten seatbelts light. Please enjoy the rest of your flight.” 

    The light overhead flicked off with a resounding ding and Blakeney stood. “I’ll be right back,” he said, hurrying from his seat to get to the bathroom.

    James contemplated the strange way Blakeney had reacted. He looked shocked with disbelief, or…something just now. 

    But why look at me like that? James wondered. Oh well.

    He grabbed his iPod, stuck in his earphones, and flipped to his favorite playlist. Closing his eyes, he settled in for the remainder of the flight.

    Hours later, the plane began to descend, and James could feel the change in the atmosphere. He had become so accustomed to the higher elevation that it was almost palpable, something he could not only feel, but taste, as if all of his senses tuned in. He had loved the experience of flying—aside from that nasty storm. As the plane flew lower and lower, he heard a whirring and a light thump, which Blakeney told him was the landing gear locking into place. 

    James’s eyes were glued to the countryside outside the window. He couldn’t believe how green everything was, how many trees there were. The ground was rising up faster now to meet them and all of a sudden he felt the bump of the wheels and the reverse thrust of the jet engines laboring to slow the big whale of a machine. James couldn’t quite pin down the exact feeling he was having right then—excitement, or nerves, or even joy, maybe—but he did know one thing. This was a new beginning for him. 

    “Grab your things and come on. It’s time to depart, James,” Blakeney said, interrupting his thoughts. 

    James quickly packed up his bag, unbuckled the lap belt, and stood to leave.

    The two of them made their way through the concourse over to baggage claim and waited with the crowds to pick up their luggage. Their suitcases tumbled onto the conveyor belt, and James and Blakeney snatched them up to head over toward the shops. Blakeney had already told him that they would be stopping at the Brooks Brothers clothing store there in the airport, as the Academy had a contract with them. They walked into the store and a clerk approached. “Good afternoon, and welcome to Brooks Brothers. How may I be of service?” 

    “Is Alexander here, by chance?” Blakeney asked.

    “Of course. Let me go and get him.” The clerk disappeared through a door at the back of the store. 

    A tall, thin man with a pronounced Roman nose entered through the door with a smile to make the Cheshire cat proud, as if he could smell an expensive purchase about to be made. “Ah! Director Blakeney! What a pleasant surprise,” he exclaimed.

    “Alexander, how are you?” Blakeney asked, shaking the man’s extended hand.

    “Quite well, thank you. And whom do we have here?” he asked, examining James as if just noticing him. “A new student, perhaps?”

    “Yes. This is James, and we just flew in. He will be needing the works for everything: dress shirts, polo shirts, slacks, a couple sweaters, a pair of ties, a sport blazer, and dress casual shoes.”

    That same Cheshire-cat smile lit up Alexander’s face. “I always love it when you gain a new student, I truly do, Director.” To James, he said, “Come, come. Let’s get some pins and tapes around you, my boy.” Alexander led him further into the store and had him step up onto a raised dais surrounded by mirrors. James felt awkward and a little embarrassed: he‘d never had anything tailored before, and he had never liked being the center of attention. “All right. I shall be right back, so don’t go anywhere,” the man said with a flourish before heading off. A few moments later, he returned with what looked like a suit coat with the stitching on the outside. James side-eyed the coat as Alexander slipped it over his shoulders. This couldn’t possibly be the uniform blazer Blakeney had been talking about. 

    “This is part of the uniform?” James asked, doubt written across his face in the mirror.

    “No, no, no, my boy. This is just what I use to take your measurements. Now stand still,” the thin man chided James.

    He stood as still as he could considering that it felt as if strange insects were fluttering inside his stomach. He could hear the man muttering to himself about him having a great form to work on and a wonderful tapering body to make his tailoring look like a masterpiece. James couldn’t help but grow incredibly self-conscious as the man examined, manipulated, and measured every inch of his body.

    James heaved a great sigh of relief as finally the man put up the measuring tapes, stopped pinning the jacket, and made the last notations on his clipboard. Sliding the coat off of James’s shoulders, Alexander said, “There we are. You can step down now.” He gave Blakeney a big toothy grin. “It’s still quite cold outside. Are you sure he’ll be warm enough? I wouldn’t want this young man to freeze.”

    Blakeney smiled and shook his head. “You drive a hard bargain, Alexander, but I’ll go ahead and add a nice pea coat to the order—under one condition.”

    “Yes?” Alexander asked, a gleam in his eyes.

    “That you make it a rush order. He’ll be needing these items today.”

    “Hmm.” Alexander took a moment to think. “For Mount Olympus? Of course. I will get on it immediately and I shall not rest until I’m finished,” he said with his pointer finger wagging as if in declaration. “Give me until tonight and everything will be delivered.”

    As Blakeney and Alexander completed the sale at the register, James walked over to examine a few pairs of pants. As soon as he noticed the price tag, he almost choked. What the!? That’s crazy. Who would pay that much for some pants?

    “Let’s go, James. We still have much to do.” Blakeney said, interrupting James’s interior monologue. James had a last look at the price tags, still incredulous, followed Blakeney out.

    As soon as James stepped outside of the airport, the change in temperature, elevation, and humidity hit him like a tractor trailer crashing into a wall. The much lower elevation weighed all the way down to his bones. Good thing Blakeney had told him to put a hoodie inside of his carry-on bag. New Mexico could get much colder than here, but the D.C. area was in the middle of a cold snap. The older man paused as James put his hoodie on, as if he had expected this. Once finished, they picked up the pace for the parking lot.

    The dark, navy blue car Blakeney stopped at was a Mercedes that looked to be brand new—and very expensive. Blakeney, taking in what must have been the same wide-eyed reaction of almost any boy who looks at a nice car said, “This is one of the Academy’s cars. We have a few, and they are all the newest version of a hybrid. We all must do our best to conserve resources and be green, you know.”

    “Uh—er—sure,” replied James.

    After loading up the bags, James sat down in the front passenger seat. Immediately he closed his eyes to take in that incredible new car smell. In this particular car—and it wasn’t like he had a bunch of other new cars to compare it with—it smelled of immaculate leather, soft vanilla, and just the slightest hint of spice. The soft, glove leather seat had just molded to his frame as Blakeney started up the engine and James heard a lovely purring sound reverberate through the car like a giant cat enjoying the afternoon sun. The acceleration kicked in as Blakeney exited the lot and headed south.

    Classical music played softly as his eyes were glued to the window, taking in everything he could demand of them when—

    “Whoa! Is that the Pentagon?”

    “Yes, it is.” 

    “Man, that place is huge. Much bigger than I thought it would be,” James said, his eyes still focused on the sights.

    “Well it would need to be wouldn’t it, seeing as it houses the entire Department of Defense.”

    They settled into a comfortable silence as Blakeney focused on the road and James focused on the window. Heading south on highway 1, having passed the last sign for Mount Vernon a few miles back, they took a left onto a nondescript road. Emerging from the last copse of trees, the view from the road opened up with grandeur: immaculately manicured lawns, bushes, trees, and flowers dotted the landscape as they passed a boulder fifteen feet high and fifteen feet across with Mount Olympus Academy chiseled into its flat front. 

    A cross street met their slowing the car and James could see a pillared, massive, white granite building in the distance just beyond a magnificent, shallow pool with what seemed like four identical statues that shot streams from their mouths. In the center, a statue of Poseidon rose from the water.  As they turned right onto the cross street, Olympic Court, Blakeney, who had noticed James’s wide eyes and wider smile, said, “Welcome to Mount Olympus Academy.”