Fledgling: Jason Steed

by Mark A. Cooper

  The uniform was black, polished boots, dark navy trousers, a white T-shirt, and a navy jacket. Cadets wore thick white belts and blue tunics. There was also a white sailor’s cap or a small navy cap to wear with the blue shirt.

  Mrs. Betton took him to get a uniform and to get his hair cut at Derek’s, a small barbershop. Jason explained that he needed his hair short at the back and sides but wanted to keep his long bangs. They showed him how to use Brylcreem, a hair gel, to slick his hair back over his head. It seemed to work. He would only need to slick back his hair before he went to Sea Cadets, and the rest of the time, he could wash it out and wear it long over his eyes.

  ***

  For the first time since Jason had left Hong Kong, he felt at home again. He loved everything about the Sea Cadets. They spent weekends learning about seamanship, boating, compass reading, Morse code, and general military procedures, which included marching and saluting an officer. Best of all, his unit had been invited to attend a summer camp in Australia next year. He immediately applied and found out that it would be on the HMS Stoke, an old frigate used for training purposes.

  When he told Steve about his trip in August, however, Steve was not happy. It was the same time as the British Karate Championships. He had already entered Jason in the under-fifteen category, and he was certain he would win. He could then enter the European Karate Championships. If Jason’s mind was in it, he could win that too. Jason and Steve argued for half an hour, but Steve still could not understand how Jason could let such talent go to waste.

  But Jason wasn’t interested in getting trophies. Steve informed Jason that he himself was entering the British Championships in the adult division. Plus, he expected to advance to at least the quarter final. Jason responded that Steve should not enter if he had already admitted defeat.

  The pair never spoke of it again. Jason still continued with karate and continued to spar with Steve. Every now and then, when Jason would pull out all the stops and score an amazing point against his opponent, Steve would shake his head and say, “What a waste of talent.” Jason also joined a Filipino martial arts school called Eskrima. It was a new style for Jason, but it gave him the opportunity to learn the art of swords, knives, and sticks.

  Scott joined a science group too. He told Jason that computers were the future. They remained best friends, but with the Sea Cadets, karate, and science group dividing their time, they didn’t have many days to spend together outside school, which was probably all for the best, Jason reasoned. When they grew up, they’d probably end up serving Britain in different ways in the Intelligence Service—or so Jason dreamed. Not that he ever mentioned as much to Scott.

  ***

  It was a cold Tuesday the first week of December when Jason met Scott in the school lunchroom. Jason was already eating at an empty table.

  “Where have you been? I’m starving, so I got mine and started,” Jason asked.

  “I put your name down next to mine for the Benenden Dance,” Scott said excitedly with a mouthful of chips.

  “Benenden Dance? What’s that?” Jason asked.

  “It’s the Christmas dance. Every year, St. Joseph’s goes to Benenden Girls’ School for a Christmas party. It’s a tradition. We have to wear a tuxedo. I’ve never been, but some of the guys said you get to smooch with the girls.” Scott held an apple in his hand and kissed it, as if it were a girl.

  Jason laughed so much he nearly spit out his food. “When is it?” he asked.

  “December 18th,” Scott replied.

  “I can’t go. I have karate that night.”

  “Crap, Jason. You go to karate twice a week. This is once a year. Don’t you want to get close to some girls?” Scott asked, making movements with his hands of the shape of a woman’s body.

  “No, I don’t really want to get close like that to a girl.”

  “I don’t know if you and I should sleep in the same room anymore,” Scott teased. “Let me think of your two choices. One—you can grapple with a bunch of boys’ bare feet all night, making strange noises. Two—you can join your best friend, have a great time, and dance with some pretty girls.”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “Fine. Now would you let me eat in peace, please?”

  ***

  Scott’s mother took the boys to a tailor in London’s Savile Row to get fitted for a dinner suit. Mrs. Turner was a well-spoken lady with long black hair that flowed down her back. She chose a very old-fashioned store that smelled of mothballs. Suits, shirts, and ties hung around the wooden walls.

  Jason asked the tailor what the difference was between the dinner suit Scott was buying and the tuxedo.

  A thin man with an upper-class voice replied, “The tuxedo is an American-cut suit. It has thinner material and is expensive. They seem to be becoming popular but not worth the money.”

  “I prefer it. It looks sharper,” Jason replied.

  “Sir, maybe your mother had better look at the price first,” the tailor replied.

  He was going to argue and say she was not his mother, but for the brief moment, he liked the idea, so he said nothing. Mrs. Turner came and looked at the ticket.

  “Oh, my, no, Jason. You don’t want that. It’s three times the price and just feel it. It’s thinner material. No—get what Scott is having. That costs enough.”

  “Did Mrs. Betton not give you enough money?” Jason asked, feeling the suit.

  “Well, she gave me a check, but I don’t think I can spend that much, dear.”

  “Sir, may I call my nanny?” Jason asked the tailor. A phone was brought to the counter. Jason dialed home and spoke to Mrs. Betton.

  “I found a suit I like, but it’s very expensive. Can I get it?”

  “You can get any suit you wish, but remember that you will probably only wear it for a few hours that night and it may not fit next year.”

  Jason thought for a moment. “If that suit’s good enough for Scott, then it’s good enough for me. I will get the same.”

  ***

  The night of the Benenden Christmas party, Jason made his way to school. It was a short bus trip he had now taken many times; however, it was 5:30 p.m. and dark, and besides, he was wearing a dinner jacket.

  He noticed people staring at him as he climbed the red double-decker bus, so he went upstairs, and to his relief, it was empty. At the next stop, some kids a few years older than him got on and also went upstairs.

  “Look. It’s baby James Bond,” said one youth who reminded Jason of Wayne Parker. He was almost as big as Parker but rougher-looking and scruffy. The others laughed.

  “Tell me, Bond, where is one going tonight?” he asked, trying to sound snooty.

  “To a party,” Jason said quietly.

  “I bet he goes to that fancy St. Joseph’s. All the toffee noses go there. Do ya?” another asked.

  Jason felt uncomfortable. He had another three stops to go before he got off, and traffic was not moving very fast.

  “Yes, I go to St. Joseph’s,” Jason replied, trying not to make eye contact.

  “Hey, Johnny, what ya think I would look like in a whistle like that?” the boy asked his friend. “Hey, Bond, let me try on the jacket. Give us a try,” he ordered.

  Jason stood up. He was trapped in his seat and could not get to the aisle.

  “It won’t fit you, and I get off here,” Jason said.

  “Don’t lie, baby Bond. You said you go to St. Joseph’s. Do you think I’m bloody stupid? Sit down,” he shouted.

  Jason sat back down and moved toward the window, trying to ease farther away.

  “What money you got on ya?” the boy asked.

  Jason ignored the remark and stood up again. An alarm bell went off in his brain. It was only going to get worse now that they had asked for money.

  “I’m getting off now. Excuse me, please.”

  “You get off when I say you get off. Empty your pockets,” he demanded.

  “You probably won’t believe this, but I have to warn you. I am a martial arts
expert. I will use it to defend myself. Now, if you start anything, it’s your responsibility.”

  The three boys laughed and made kung fu noises and waved their arms about.

  Suddenly, one made a grab for Jason’s bowtie. Jason caught his hand and twisted it. The kid screamed.

  “I warned you. Tell your mates to back off or I will break it,” Jason said, but his warning did not work. Another kid jumped over the seat and swung Jason. He ducked, but it still caught the side of his face because Jason was still trapped between the seats.

  The first youth bit into Jason’s hand until he let go. More punches followed. Many were blocked, but now and again, a few caught Jason’s face. As they continued to pummel him, Jason jumped up and grabbed the metal handrail, lifted himself free from the seats, and kicked out at them.

  Once he got to the aisle, he could protect himself. He hit out at one and caught him on the chin, knocking him back. As he did this, the black youth dove on him, knocking him to the floor. Jason knew he had to get up at all costs. Left on the floor, he would get kicked and seriously hurt.

  Jason drove his two fingers into the black youth’s eyes, causing him to scream in pain. He got out from under him and ran down the stairs. While the bus was still moving, Jason leapt off the back of the bus into the road. The three bullies did not follow.

  He had to run the rest of the way to school. He was now late, sweating, and his suit was dirty from his rumble on the bus floor. He looked up at the two buses in the parking lot and saw Scott waving to him.

  As he tried to enter the bus, he was stopped by Mr. Griffiths.

  “Out of the question, Steed. You can’t go as a representative of St. Joseph’s looking like that. I am sorry, but I can’t let you go,” Griffiths told Jason.

  “Can I go in the school and clean up, sir?” Jason asked.

  “No, we are late already. It’s an hour’s drive to Kent. We have to leave now. Sorry, but you should have thought of this before you did whatever you did to get into this mess. I am sure your father did not send you looking like this.” He then noticed Jason’s hands. “Good heavens. Have you been fighting again? Go home, Steed.”

  “But, sir, I was attacked on the way. I had to get off the bus and run the rest of the way.”

  “Attacked, boy? Where?” Griffiths asked.

  “On the bus, sir,” Jason said, tucking his shirt in and trying to put his collar straight.

  Scott made his way back to the front of the bus and came down the steps. “Sir, you can’t leave him here.”

  “Get back to your seat, Turner, or you will join him.”

  “Okay, but if you throw me off, I wonder how our parents will feel when they hear you sent two ten-year-olds off the school bus at night in the dark. It will be worse when they hear one had already been mugged. My parents won’t be back here to pick me up until midnight, but if you think it’s safe to leave us here, I will stay off and join Jason,” Scott protested.

  Griffiths paused. He examined the boys in front of him while he tried to work out how to proceed.

  “Clean him up. I shall want to see you both in my office in the morning,” Griffiths continued.

  Jason followed Scott onto the bus.

  “Crap, mate. What happened to you?” Scott asked as they slunk down into the back row.

  “Some teenagers thought I looked like a baby James Bond,” Jason said, licking his fingers and trying to wash the cut above his eye.

  “How many were there?” Scott asked.

  “Three.”

  “Just three teenagers did this?” Scott asked, frowning.

  “What do you mean just three? I’m not superman. I was lucky to get away,” Jason muttered.

  “I didn’t mean it like that—sorry. It’s just that it looks like they got a few good punches in. To me, you are invincible.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to let you down. I will try bloody harder next time.”

  “Hey, okay, I said sorry. I mean it—sorry. I am glad you’re not badly hurt.”

  Jason nodded and swallowed. “Scott—Thanks, mate. Thanks for giving it to Griffiths,” he murmured.

  “Yeah, but we could be in hell tomorrow. Give me your jacket. I’ll see if I can brush the dirt off it.”

  ***

  Benenden Girls’ School was set deep in the Kent countryside. As the two buses pulled into the large gravel courtyard, Griffiths instructed the boys to be on their best behavior. He paid particular attention to the older boys and told them that if they danced, their hands could drift onto the girl’s waist but no lower. There was to be no contact beyond that.

  When Jason and Scott climbed off, Griffiths went to grab Jason’s shoulder to take a look at him. Jason’s instinctive reaction was to knock the hand away, and he did with a lot of force.

  “Sorry, sir. I just saw a hand grabbing at me,” Jason said.

  A stunned Mr. Griffiths rubbed his hand. “Dangerous, Mr. Steed. Very dangerous. You need to control that. Let me look at you. Okay, you look better. Enjoy yourselves.”

  As they walked toward the main entrance, Scott’s eyes were wide open in amazement. “Whoa, you hit Griffiths,” he said, laughing.

  “I didn’t hit him. I just knocked his hand away, but you’re right, mate. Whoa.” Jason grinned.

  They entered the huge double doors of an old mansion. The house had been converted into a school over a hundred years ago. The large entrance hall had a Christmas tree that stood over twenty feet tall, which was lit up with twinkling lights. Colored tinsel surrounded the tree, winding up like a mountain road to the top, where a brightly lit silver star had been placed. As the boys from St. Joseph’s walked in, they gaped at the tree.

  “Wow, look at that,” some remarked.

  Music could be heard as they entered the main dining room. Jason went to the bathroom to try to clean up some more. He looked at himself in the mirror and noticed some bruising on his face. He pulled his blond fringe of hair over his cut.

  Most of the girls were in groups around the room. A small group of six girls danced in the center. Decorations stretched across the huge ceilings. The picture lights shone dimly on the many paintings around the edges of the room. The only other lights came from the DJ’s disco ball. The purple glow of an ultraviolet light lit the dance floor, which was followed by some flashing colored beacons.

  Scott made his way to the large food table that was spread across the far end next to the DJ booth. The boys dared each other to go over and ask a girl to dance. The girls looked the boys up and down and giggled to themselves.

  Jason caught a girl staring at him. She was blond, not terribly tall, and she was whispering in a redhead’s ear.

  “I think they fancy us,” Scott muttered, nudging Jason.

  The girls both smiled at Jason and Scott. Without thinking, they both approached.

  “Hello. I’m Susan, and this is my best friend, Catherine,” the redhead said.

  Jason looked at Catherine, and she looked back; however, neither of them said anything. They just stared at each other, trying to think where they had met before. Scott held out his hand and shook Susan’s.

  “Hi, Susan. I am Scott, and this is—” and then he was interrupted.

  “You’re Jason,” Catherine said, walking forward. Scott’s and Susan’s mouths fell open.

  “You know him?” Susan cried.

  Jason smiled. “Hello, Catherine. Can you swim yet?”

  “But…but you’re Princess Catherine,” Scott stammered. “You know each other?”

  “Dance?” Jason asked Catherine, taking her hand.

  The couple danced to Slade’s “Merry Christmas.” When that finished, the DJ slowed things down and played Donny Osmond’s “Puppy Love.”

  “I thought you lived in China or Japan?” Catherine asked.

  “No, it was Hong Kong. I live here now. You’ve grown since I last saw you. You never answered my question. Can you swim now?”

  “Yes, thank you. I had lessons immediately after my part
y. You bought me my armbands.” Catherine looked into Jason’s sapphire-blue eyes. She leaned forward and put her head on his shoulder as they danced to the slow music.

  “Why is everyone looking at us?” Jason whispered.

  Catherine lifted her head. “That’s normal. If you want to dance with me, you have to learn to ignore it.”

  “Really?”

  “I suppose I am used to it,” Catherine laughed.

  When the music stopped, Jason asked, “Can I see you again? I mean…alone? Maybe go to the cinema? That new film Herbie is out—the one about that magic Volkswagen Beetle.”

  “It’s not that easy, Jason. I can’t just jump on a bus and go to the cinema with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Can you see that man over there by the door?”

  “You mean the guy who keeps giving me the evil eye?”

  “Yes,” Catherine said, laughing. “He’s a policeman in the Secret Service. Everywhere I go, he goes.”

  “You mean he would have to come too? Well, I am not paying for him to get in,” Jason joked.

  Catherine roared with laughter. “I have to go now. It was lovely to see you again.”

  They walked out together holding hands. Many eyes followed them to the door. A car was outside waiting for her.

  “Are you having Christmas with your family?” Catherine asked.

  “No, my father is away. I’m going to Scotland to stay with my grandparents,” Jason replied.

  The policeman interrupted, “We have to leave now, miss.”

  “I am going to Scotland too. We stay at Balmoral every year. We are having a Boxing Day ball after Christmas. Would you like to come?” Catherine asked.

  “Miss, we have to go now. Our car is blocking the exit,” the policeman said.

  “Yes, I will ask my grandfather to take me,” Jason said.

  They reached her car, and the policeman opened the door. Catherine climbed into the back but came out again, much to the annoyance of the policeman.