School Daze
 
AUTHOR: Shirley


E-mail: sbell_1944@yahoo.com


RATING:  NC-17 (Sexual situations/language)
 
CONTEXT: This NicFic starts at the time of Anne Fallin’s death and takes Nick 
through his school years.    
 
DISCLAIMER: Some of the characters portrayed herein have been taken directly 
from The Guardian – a CBS TV Series. Others are strictly figments of my 
imagination. The resemblance to any person(s) living or dead is purely 
coincidental. Any similarity of events, dates, or characters or the portrayal of 
events, dates or characters depicted in any FanFic previously posted by other 
authors is totally unintentional. This is a work of FICTION. 
 
~~~~~~
 
It had been a couple of months since they buried his mother on that bleak winter 
day in late February.  Nick had yet to come to terms with his loss.  And the 
whole thing about selling the house and moving to his dad’s so soon afterwards 
was, well… it just made him resent his father more than he already did.  
 
Burton was the executor of his mother’s estate and he didn’t waste any time 
getting rid of all Nick’s memories.  The house was quickly sold along with the 
furnishings; the proceeds put in trust for his son.  The only thing Nick was 
able to keep of his mother’s was her cedar chest which was filled with the 
memories of good times they had all had together.  The chest was now stored in 
his father’s basement.  Some nights, when his father worked late at the office, 
Nick would go to the basement and take out each item—a cheap little trinket from 
a favorite trip together, a ratty little stuffed animal won at a carnival, a 
prized conch shell from a trip to the seashore and, of course, the photo albums 
and old postcards.  He would try to remember how it had been before his father 
quit loving his mother.  
 
Nick had hated moving into his dad’s big rambling house and away from all his 
friends.  He wanted to stay in his old school but his dad had insisted that 
public school was just not good enough for his son and had pulled some strings 
to get him into the prestigious Thurmond Academy.  He hated it.  
 
“So, Nicholas.  You liking your new school?”  Dinnertime was always an exercise 
in futility.  Trying to get Nick involved in any lengthy conversation was a 
waste of time.  He usually answered the questions his dad posed to him but with 
very few words and never ventured a subject on his own. 
 
“Yeah… I guess.”  Nick pushed the green beans around on his plate.  He didn’t 
like green beans.  His mother never made him eat them.  
 
“How would you like to have a few of your friends over?  Maybe… maybe cook up 
some hamburgers, watch some movies?”  It was evident that Anne’s death had taken 
its toll on Nick.  He seemed thinner and more withdrawn.  “How would you like 
that?”  
 
Burton was sure, in time, that Nick’s grief over the loss of his mother would 
pass and things would get better between them.  He just had to be patient.  
 
“No… that’s okay,” Nick said, a little too quickly.  He didn’t want to admit to 
his dad that he had no friends at his new school.  
 
“No?”  Burton wrinkled his brow and looked at his son, curiously.  He couldn’t 
remember the last time he’d seen him smile or heard him laugh.  And Nick never 
talked about the other kids at school.  “You sure, son?  It would… well… give me 
a chance to meet some of your friends from school.”  
 
“No.  No, that’s all right, Dad.  I…  May I be excused?  I have a lot of 
homework.”  
 
Burton looked at the boy’s plate.  It had barely been touched.  But, there was 
nothing to be gained by forcing him to eat.
 
Finally, reluctantly, he said, “Sure.  I’ll be up later to say goodnight.”  
 
Nick scurried away to his room, happy to be alone again.
 
It was around 9:30 when Nick heard his father’s footsteps in the hallway.  He 
shoved the magazine he was reading under his pillow and quickly dowsed the 
light, pulling the covers up around his head.  Barely breathing, he lay still as 
a mouse.  His father eased the door open and walked over to the bed.  He made 
some adjustments in the covers, then leaned over and gently kissed his 
‘sleeping’ son.  
 
Nick waited until his father was again in the hallway and the door firmly closed 
behind him before taking a normal breath.  When he could no longer hear 
footsteps, he turned the light back on and retrieved the magazine he’d been 
reading.  It was one of his father’s law journals.  He had first started reading 
them to find out what was so fascinating.  His father always seemed to be 
reading one—at the breakfast table and again after dinner in the library.  He 
had been surprised to find that many of the articles were interesting.  And when 
he had additional questions about a certain issue or point of law mentioned in 
an article, he would ride his bike to the library, six blocks away, and with the 
help of a very nice librarian, he would research the subject.  The more he 
learned, the more he wanted to learn… about the law.  He just wished he felt 
comfortable talking to his dad about it.    
 
He recalled that he was nine when his dad took him to his office for the first 
time.  That was right after the Firm moved into the Frick Building.  He had 
marveled at all the law books and the buzz of activity.  He remembered looking 
out his dad’s window, down onto the street and all the little people.  And he 
noticed how all the workers called his dad sir or Mr. Fallin.  That had been the 
one and only time he had been to the office.  When he had asked about going 
again, his father had told him he was just too busy to worry about entertaining 
him.  He said that a law office was really no place for a kid.  
 
~/~/~
 
As usual, they ate their dinner in silence.  Nick had finished what little 
homework he had before his father got home so, after dinner, he had time to help 
his dad clear the table.  
 
“Just two more weeks of school left,” his father reminded him, as he loaded the 
dishes into the dishwasher. 
 
“Yeah.”  Nick was glad.  He didn’t like Thurmond any more now than he did when 
he started there three months ago.  He was looking forward to the 
summer—exploring the neighborhood.  So far he hadn’t noticed many kids his age; 
the area being more affluent with mostly older people.  But, he would surely 
find something to occupy his time.  
 
Burton finished wiping down the counter while Nick put away the placemats.  “I 
wanna talk to you about something, Nicholas.  Let’s go into the library, shall 
we?”  He felt his father’s hand on his shoulder.  They walked into the cozy 
room, lined with rich mahogany bookshelves filled with books.  A fire crackled 
in the fireplace.  Although it was spring, the nights were often crisp and cool. 
 
 
Nick took a seat in one of the big chairs flanking the fireplace.  He was small 
for his age and was immediately swallowed up in the big man-sized chair.  He 
sat, stiffly, with his hands on the armrests.  
 
His father walked to his desk in the far corner of the room where he removed a 
large envelope from one of the drawers.  He sat down in the other chair beside 
the fireplace with the envelope on his lap.  
 
“Nicholas, you haven’t been very happy at Thurmond… have you?”  He watched his 
son to gauge his reaction and when there was none, he continued.  “I think 
maybe… maybe what you need is a complete change of scenery.”  
 
What did his father have in mind?  He tried not to show his anxiety, waiting to 
see what his fate would be.  
 
Burton removed several brochures from the large envelope and handed them to 
Nick.  “Take a look at these,” he said, enthusiastically.  
 
Nick gave them a cursory glance.  “What is it?”  
 
“It’s an exclusive boys’ school in Connecticut—Oxford Academy.  They have an 
excellent summer curriculum to prepare you for the fall term… and some fun 
extra-curricular activities for the summer that I’m sure you will like.”
 
“Summer?”  
 
Burton sighed.  “You know, son, the Firm takes up so much of my time… and this 
summer… well… it wouldn’t be much fun for you to stay home by yourself.”  
 
Nick tried to recall where Connecticut was on the map.  “So… you’re sending me 
away?”  He tried not to whine.  His dad hated it when he whined.  He nervously 
chewed at his bottom lip.  
 
“Don’t look at it like that, Nicholas.  They have all kinds of activities 
planned during the summer—all kinds of sports; horseback riding, tennis, 
swimming, and a great crew program.  And you’ll get a head start on your 
academic studies for the fall semester.”
 
“Crew program…?”
 
“Yeah, you know, rowing… sculling.  It tells all about it in the brochure.”  He 
reached over and sorted through the pamphlets in Nick’s lap.  “Here… this one.  
Just think of it as summer camp, son.  You’ll meet boys from all over the 
country.”  
 
He took a moment to look at the brochures, fear and dread churning his insides.  
He had already endured one change in his school and now he was going to have 
another change—this time he would truly be all alone.  He felt like he was going 
to be sick.  “I have more homework to do,” he lied.  “May I be excused?”  He 
stood up, holding the pamphlets, waiting for his father to excuse him.  
 
Burton sighed.  “Come here, son.”  Nick walked over and stood in front of his 
father who took him by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes.  “I know this 
sounds kinda scary right now, but I think you’ll like it once you get situated.” 
 He removed his hands and leaned back in his chair.  “Take a look at the 
brochures and we’ll talk more about it later if you want.”  
 
“Okay,” Nick managed to say, though his heart was breaking.  It wasn’t bad 
enough that he didn’t know anyone at Thurmond Academy or in the neighborhood.  
He did at least know his dad and Angelina who came to clean three days a week.  
Now, his father wanted to send him away to a strange place with total strangers, 
where he wouldn’t know a soul.  
 
He stifled the urge to run from the room.  Instead, he turned and walked out, 
slowly making the long trek to his room.  Safely behind closed doors, he threw 
himself on his bed and sobbed uncontrollably into his pillow.  
 
~/~/~
 
A week after the school year ended Nick and Burton were on a plane to Hartford, 
Connecticut, where they rented a car for the hour’s drive to South Kent and the 
Oxford Academy.  Nick had come to terms with the idea.  It wouldn’t do him any 
good to argue with his dad.  Burton didn’t want him around; it was as simple as 
that.  He vowed to make the best of it.  
 
“Beautiful country, isn’t it, son?” his father remarked as they wound around 
through the hills.  “I think they mentioned hiking trails, too, in the 
brochures.”  He looked over at Nick, who was watching the countryside go by.  
“You’ll like that, won’t ya?”
 
“Yeah.  I’ll be fine, Dad.”  Nick reassured him.  
 
Burton laughed.  “I know you will, Nicholas.  I know you will.  Your mother 
would be proud of her big boy.”  
 
Nick stared ahead where he caught his first glimpse of the school as it seemed 
to emerge from the trees.  For a small boy, it was a big campus with lots of 
buildings, many dating back to the mid-1800s, which had been converted into 
classrooms, meeting halls, and dormitories.  In the center was a quadrangle.  
 
Burton pulled up outside the Administration Building, a large imposing 
three-story structure.  Eight large columns supported the roof of a veranda 
which extended across the entire front of the building.  
 
“Okay, here we are.”  He patted Nick’s leg.  “You ready for your adventure?”  
 
“Sure.”  
 
A young man in his early 20s rushed down the walkway to greet them.  An older 
man, perhaps in his late 40s, joined him at the car.  “Welcome to Oxford 
Academy.  I’m Justin Evers, personal assistant to Headmaster  Chadwick.  This is 
Grady.  He will help you with your luggage.”  He extended his hand to Burton.
 
“Oh… nice to meet ya.”  They shook hands.  “Burton Fallin… and this is my son, 
Nicholas.”  
 
Justin extended his hand to Nick, who shook it timidly.  Burton popped the trunk 
to the car and started to remove the luggage.  Grady laid a hand on his arm and 
shook his head, then began to remove the bags.
 
Justin stepped up and explained.  “Grady is mute.  He can hear but he can’t 
speak.  Childhood accident.  Old Grady, here, has been a fixture around this 
place for longer than I’ve been alive.”  He patted Grady on the back with 
affection.  
 
“Well, let’s get you officially checked in and I’ll show you to your room.”  
They followed as Justin led the way up the walkway and into the Admin Building, 
a structure built in 1846.  It had been modernized some 50 years ago and 
renovations were constantly in the works, around campus, to maintain the school 
in tip-top condition.  
 
The main entry hallway in the Admin Building was at least 30 feet wide and 3 
stories high.  The rooms on the ground floor, which opened onto the hallway, had 
been converted into offices.  Straight back and to the left of the staircase 
were the kitchen and dining room and off to the right was the huge living room, 
which served as a dayroom for relaxing and entertaining visiting parents.  The 
dayroom looked out over the quad.  A grand center staircase led from the entry 
hall upstairs to a gallery of rooms on the second and third floors which served 
as additional offices.    
 
The Headmaster’s office was to your immediate left as you entered the main door. 
 The office door stood open.  From the hallway you could see the massive 
fireplace with its beautifully carved mahogany mantel.  In order to see the 
occupant, Headmaster Chadwick, who was happily ensconced behind a large mahogany 
desk, you had to enter the room and look to your right.  The room was very large 
with two big wing-back chairs in front of the fireplace and two additional 
over-stuffed chairs and a table arranged by the large front window.    
 
Justin led them into the room.  “Headmaster, I would like to introduce Master 
Nicholas Fallin and his father, Burton.  Headmaster Chadwick.”  
 
Behind the Headmaster’s desk were rows and rows of books of all shapes and 
sizes, neatly arranged in the built-in mahogany bookshelves which went from 
wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling.  A sliding ladder was attached in order to 
access the upper-most shelves.      
 
Chadwick stood and came around his desk to take Nick’s hand.  “Pleased to meet 
you, Nicholas.”  
 
“Thank you, sir.”  Nick said.  
 
The Headmaster then shook hands with Burton.  “Mr. Fallin.  I’m pleased that 
you’ve selected Oxford Academy for young Nicholas.  As I’m sure you already 
know, we have a nearly 100% rate of acceptance of our graduates at many of the 
major colleges and universities around the country.  We pride ourselves in 
providing the highest academic standards of any preparatory school in the 
northeast.”
 
“I have heard of your reputation.”
 
“Good.  Now, if you don’t mind, Mr. Fallin, Agnes will handle the paperwork with 
you while I have a moment with Nicholas.”  
 
Agnes magically appeared at the door.  “This way, Mr. Fallin.  It shouldn’t take 
too long.  We already have the preliminary papers completed.”  She turned and 
Burton followed her upstairs to her office on the second floor.
 
Justin stepped out of the Headmaster’s office and pulled the door closed behind 
him.
 
“Come, Nicholas.  Have a seat,” the Headmaster said, indicating one of the 
chairs in front of the fireplace.  He sat in the chair opposite.  “Well, now, 
Nicholas… you’re not at all happy about being sent away to boarding school.  Am 
I right?”  
 
Nick gave him a surprised look.  He finally nodded.  
 
“That’s understandable.  I think you’ll like it here if you give it half a 
chance.”  He smiled at Nick in an effort to reassure him.  “Will you do that?”
 
What else could he say?  He had no choice.  Nick nodded his head and said, 
“Okay.”  
 
“Okay, now, have you given any thought to a career?  What you might want to do 
when you get out of school?”
 
This is one thing he had given a lot of thought to.  “I wanna be a lawyer, like 
my dad.”  
 
“I see.”  Chadwick was not surprised by this answer.  Many sons wanted to follow 
in their fathers’ footsteps.  “Well…” he said, and chuckled.  “Do you know what 
your father does… as a lawyer?”  
 
“No… not really.  But, I know he’s important.  He works all the time.”  
 
“So… you want to be important, too?”  
 
“Yeah.”  
 
Upstairs, Agnes explained the enrollment contract.  “Since Nicholas will be a 
full-time boarder for most of the year, the tuition, room and board is $30,000 
plus the cost of books and supplies.  We recommend that you set up an account 
with the school which your child can access for spending money and incidentals.  
Your child is required to wear the prescribed uniform when attending classes.  
The uniform can be purchased through the school for an additional $350.  We do 
recommend that the child have at least 3 uniform changes.”
 
“Fine,” Burton nodded.  
 
Agnes continued, “Special uniforms and equipment may be required for some of the 
sports that Nicholas wishes to participate in.  That can be assessed after your 
child meets with his guidance counselor and selects his classes.”
 
Burton raised his eyebrows at the litany of information.  He reached for his 
checkbook.  “You will take a check?”  
 
“Yes, sir.”  She entered a few numbers in her computer and generated a copy of 
the statement.  “Look this over and see if you have any questions.”  
 
When Burton descended the stairs he found Nicholas and Headmaster Chadwick in 
the dayroom.
 
“Oh, Mr. Fallin,” Chadwick said, as Burton entered the room.  “I was giving 
young Nicholas, here, a tour of the building.”  He glanced at Nick.  “You ready 
to see the residence hall where you’ll be living?”
 
“Yes, sir.”  
 
“You’re lucky, Nicholas.  Our summer students get to have their pick of the 
rooms.  Those students arriving in the fall are stuck with the leftovers.”  He 
laughed and patted Nick on the shoulder.  
 
They stepped into the main entrance hallway where Justin awaited them.  Chadwick 
turned to Burton.  “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Fallin.  Remember, parents are 
always welcome here at Oxford Academy and we encourage frequent visits, 
particularly during the first year when your child is getting used to being away 
from home.”  He extended his hand and they shook.  He turned to Nick.  “Justin 
will show you to Creighton Hall, our freshmen-sophomore student housing.”  
Chadwick excused himself and returned to his office.  
 
“All right.  This way, gentlemen.”  Justin led them out front where they boarded 
a golf cart for the trip to Creighton Hall.  “Grady has already taken your bags 
to the dorm.”
 
The residence hall was a somewhat newer building than the majority of the 
others.  It was situated in a thick stand of trees, barely visible from the 
quad.  Justin pointed out that there was a footpath which led back to the quad 
as well as one which led down to the water’s edge of The Pond.  
 
Several of the rooms had a view of the water.  Justin showed Nick and his father 
to one of these rooms, on the third floor.  It was not large, but comfortable.  
Each room accommodated two students; each with his own twin bed, desk, and 
closet.  All the rooms had a private bathroom with a commode and sink; the 
communal showers, two to a floor, were situated at either end of the hallway on 
each floor. 
 
“Nick, you can have any room you wish that has not already been spoken for by 
another summer enrollee.  But, if you ask me, this is the best one.”  He walked 
over to the window.  “You can see The Pond from here.  Really on the map it’s 
called Duck Pond but over the years people just started calling it The Pond.  
See that structure down by the water?”  He pointed to the shed-like structure 
which jutted out into the water.  “That’s where they keep the boats.” 
 
“Boats?” Nick looked where Justin had pointed.  
 
“Yeah.  The sculling boats.  Oxford Academy has a number of First Place trophies 
in sculling.  Do you think you might be interested?”  
 
Nick glanced at his dad then back at Justin.  “Yeah, maybe.”  
 
“Okay, good.  So does this room meet with your approval?”  
 
“Dad?”  Nick turned to his father for his input.  
 
“Looks like a pretty good choice to me, son.”  He flashed him a reassuring 
smile.  
 
Nick turned and nodded to Justin.
 
“Okay, then.”  
 
At that moment, Grady entered the room with the bags.  “Oh, thanks, Grady,” 
Justin said, taking the smaller bag from him and setting it on one of the beds.  
He then pulled a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his blazer.  “Here’s 
the schedule,” he said, handing it to Nick.  It contained an outline of planned 
events for the next week; times and places.  “Punctuality is a big thing around 
here, so read the schedule and make sure you’re where you’re supposed to be, 
when you’re supposed to be.  Tomorrow begins Orientation Week during which 
you’ll become familiar with the campus, pick out your classes and meet the other 
summer enrollees.  The following week your class study begins.”  
 
Nick scanned the list of events which included an orientation assembly, meals, 
meeting with guidance counselor, campus tour, etc.  
 
“We’ll leave you two alone so you can say your good-byes.  Nice to have you 
here, Nick,” Justin said, as he and Grady exited. 
 
“You want me to help you unpack, son?”  Burton asked, sitting down at the 
student desk.  
 
“No… thanks.  I can do it.”
 
“Come here, son.”  Nick walked over and stood in front of his father.  Burton 
put his hands on his shoulders.  “You’re a big boy now, Nicholas.  You’ll get a 
good education here and be able to get in just about any college you want.  I 
expect you to study hard and make me proud.”  Nick stood expressionless before 
him.  Burton glanced at his watch.  “Well, son, I’m gonna have to be going if 
I’m to catch my flight.”  
 
Nick nodded and looked down at the floor as fear twisted his stomach into knots. 
 In a matter of minutes, he would be alone, embarking on a new phase of his life 
in a strange place—far from home.  
 
Nick walked down the stairs with his father not knowing when he would see him 
again.  At the main entrance they were met by Reginald Chambers, an 
upper-classman who was the resident-student in charge of Creighton Hall for the 
summer.  Nick would later learn that Reggie was going to school through the 
summer in order to graduate a full year ahead of his class.  He had already been 
accepted at Yale.  He introduced himself.  
 
“Reggie Chambers.”  He extended his hand to Nick. “Nick Fallin, I presume.”   
Nick nodded as they shook.  “I’m in charge of enforcing the rules around here.  
Follow the rules and you’ll get no grief from me.”  He laughed.   “Mr. Fallin,” 
Reggie shook hands with Burton.  “Pleased to meet you.  Now, if you’ll excuse 
me, I have work to do.”  
 
Nick followed his father onto the front stoop.  Justin was waiting in the golf 
cart to give Burton a ride back to his car.  
 
“Well… good luck, son,” Burton said, extending his hand.  Nick put his hand in 
his father’s and they shook.  He wanted desperately to throw himself into his 
father’s arma; to feel the security of his embrace.  But, his father expected 
him to be a man.  
 
Nick remained on the stoop until his father was out of sight, then he turned and 
walked slowly inside and up the two flights of stairs to his room on the third 
floor.  
 
~/~/~
 
Once summer school actually started, Nick found plenty to keep him occupied.  
And when he wasn’t studying he spent time exploring the woods around the campus 
or whiling away hours sitting down by the pond or reading quietly in his room.  
He had spent a lot of time alone, growing up; especially after his mother got 
sick.  He was used to the solitude.  
 
He was interrupted, in the middle of his math homework, by a knock at his door.  
He opened it to find a handsome dark-haired boy standing there.  He remembered 
seeing him around campus but they had never met.  
 
The boy spoke and extended his hand.  “Hi.  I’m Chace.  Chace Claussen.”  
 
Nick gazed at his outstretched hand.  Finally, he said, “Whadaya want?”  
 
Chace dropped his hand to his side.  “I thought maybe we could be friends.”  
 
Nick stared at him blank-faced, unmoving.  
 
Chace continued, undaunted.  “You seem like the kinda guy I’d like to know.  
You’re smart, articulate and well-mannered.”  He chuffed, then added, “Well, 
most of the time.”  
 
Nick furrowed his brow.  What was this guy… some kinda nut?  
 
“Some of these guys around here are just too crude for words.  You know… total 
jerk-offs.”  He looked to Nick for some kind of response and getting none he 
finally said, “Well, think about it.  I’m in room 307.”  He turned and walked 
away.
 
Nick shut the door and went back to his math homework but his mind kept going 
back to the boy’s offer of friendship.  
 
The next day, he caught up with Chace after class.
 
“Hey, Chace.  Wait up.”  
 
Chace stopped and turned.  He smiled as Nick approached.   
 
Nick extended his hand.  “Friends?”  
 
Chace took his hand and said, “Friends.”  
 
From that day forth, they were virtually inseparable.  
 
~/~/~
 
That first summer at Oxford Academy had not been that bad.  There were only 
about sixty students enrolled and by fall semester most of the students had 
gotten to know one another.  Nick had opted to learn sculling and found it very 
much to his liking.  His instructor said he was a natural.  He had been given 
permission to take a single-man boat out whenever he wanted and he found it very 
relaxing.  He was hoping to make the freshman crew when school started in the 
fall.  
 
In the beginning, Nick received a letter from his father at least once a week.  
As the summer progressed he didn’t even realize that the letters came less 
frequently.  Burton had managed to attend the Family Day Picnic that summer—an 
annual event.  But that was the only time he’d been back to the school since the 
day of enrollment.  
 
~/~/~
 
When the three week break between summer and fall classes came in mid-August, 
Nick pleaded with his father to allow him to go with his friend to his home in 
Upstate New York.  After all, he argued, he didn’t know anyone in his father’s 
neighborhood and his father couldn’t spare the time off right now anyway.  So, 
it was agreed that Nick would spend the break with Chace Claussen and his 
family.  But, it was understood… Christmas break he was coming home.  
 
~/~/~
 
The trip to Upstate New York started off with a bang.  Nick got his very first 
ride ever in a private Lear jet.  Chace’s father sent a limo to pick the boys up 
from school and shuttle them to Berkshire Aviation Enterprises, a private plane 
airport in Great Barrington, MA.  It was an hour and a half by car to the 
airport but the boys didn’t mind.  They had all the junk food and drinks they 
could want for the trip in the limo.  
 
Once on board the jet, it seemed like a very short flight to Adirondack Regional 
Airport in Saranac Lake, where they would take another car for the short drive 
to the Claussen property, situated on a hill overlooking the Lake.  
 
Nick was a little nervous about meeting Chace’s parents.  He’d never stayed 
overnight with friends before.  
 
When they drove up in front of the house, Chace’s little eight-year-old sister 
was standing on the porch—waiting.  As soon as the car stopped, she rushed out 
and grabbed Chace around the middle as he tried to get out of the car.  
 
“Hey, hey.  Watch it, Scooter.  You’re gonna knock me down.”  Chace laughed and 
hugged her.  “I want you to meet a school friend of mine.”  He stepped away from 
the door so Nick could exit.  “This is Nick Fallin.  Nick, this is Scooter… 
well, really her name is Shelley but she doesn’t like that name.”  
 
Shelley punched him playfully with her little fist.  “Hi, Nick.”  She stuck her 
hand out and he took it.  
 
“Nice to meet you, Scooter.”  He gave her a warm smile.
 
About this time, Mrs. Claussen emerged from the house.  “Shelley, would you at 
least let your brother get in the house before you assault him.”  
 
Rachel Claussen hugged her son then, holding him at arms’ length, she said, “You 
look like you’ve grown a foot in the last couple months.”  She ruffled his hair 
then turned to Nick.  “And this must be Nick.”  
 
“Yes, ma’am.”  
 
Mrs. Claussen placed her hand lightly on Nick’s shoulder.  “We’re pleased to 
have you visit with us, Nick.  Now, you boys can run get settled in.  Chace… Sam 
will bring your things up.”  She looked to the man standing at a discreet 
distance.  “Sam, I’ve put Nick in the room next to Chace.”  She looked back at 
the boys who were still standing there.  “Okay, now… scoot,” she said, laughing. 
 “Lunch will be served in 30 minutes.” 
 
The boys took off with Scooter right on their heels.  
 
“Shelley! Leave the boys alone until they get settled in,” Mrs. Claussen 
admonished her daughter.  “Okay?”  
 
Scooter pulled up short.  “Oh, Mom.  I wanna show Chace my new pony.”
 
“You can do that later.  Why don’t you help me with lunch?”  
 
“Okay,” she said, gleefully.
 
The house was even more impressive than Nick had imagined from Chace’s 
description.  They raced up the stairs taking two at a time.  Chace’s bedroom 
was at the far end of the East Wing of the house.  It was everything a boy could 
want; a killer stereo system, big screen TV and something Nick wasn’t familiar 
with—a computer.  Chace also had a fabulous collection of die-cast cars and 
planes.  
 
French doors led out onto a small balcony overlooking the pool.  Off in the 
distance you could see the stables and plenty of land to ride on.  
 
Chace quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and pulled on an old 
pair of riding boots.  He then showed Nick to his room where he found his 
luggage had been unpacked and stowed in the closet and bureau drawers.  He also 
changed into more comfortable duds and they headed downstairs for lunch.  
 
“Shelley… it’s not polite to stare,” her mother chided her.  “Just ignore her, 
Nick.  She’ll get over the novelty of having her brother’s friend in the house.”
 
Nick chuckled.  “It’s okay, Mrs. Claussen.”  
 
“Mom, can I show Nick and Chace my new pony after lunch?”  
 
Rachel looked at her son, then said, “You might as well get it over with.  You 
know how she is.  She won’t stop until you see it.”  She smiled, knowingly.  
 
“It’s okay, Mom.  I was planning to show Nick the stables anyway.  We might take 
a ride before Dad gets home.”
 
“When the boys go on their ride, I want you back here, young lady.  They don’t 
want a little girl traipsing after them everywhere they go.  How about dessert?” 
 
 
Chace looked to Nick, who shook his head.  “No, Mom.  I think maybe later.  Can 
we be excused now?”  
 
“Sure.  Please... be careful.  Nick, you do know how to ride?”  
 
Chace laughed.  “He’s a natural, Mom.  He’d never been on a horse before he got 
to the Academy but now he’s one of the best horsemen at the school.”  
 
Nick bowed his head, a little embarrassed by all the attention.  
 
They spent the afternoon exploring the vast Claussen property.  At one point, 
they tied their horses to a tree near the bank of the lake and decided to take a 
dip.  They shed their clothes and dove in.  It was refreshing.  Afterward, they 
lay nude on the bank, basking in the warmth of the August sun.  
 
One thing Nick realized during the three weeks with Chace was that money could 
buy a lot of cool stuff.  He made a promise to himself that he would do whatever 
it took to make as much money as he could so he could also enjoy a similar 
lifestyle.  He may not ever be as wealthy as the Claussens, but he would make 
sure that he didn’t want for anything.  
 
Chace’s father, Barry, had inherited a large portion of his fortune but he had 
been able to parlay that wealth into an empire, spanning the globe.  Claussen 
Capital Enterprises had commercial real estate holdings on every continent.  
Barry Claussen was flying in from London and would be home for dinner that 
evening.  Nick was anxious to meet him.  
 
Nick and Chace were in the game room shooting pool when Barry Claussen stuck his 
head in the door.  
 
“Do I get a hug?”  Chace immediately dropped the pool cue on the table and ran 
to his father.  They embraced in a big bear hug.  “How was your trip from 
school?”  
 
Chace separated from his dad, a little embarrassed by the display of affection 
in front of Nick.  “It was uneventful.  Oh, Dad… I want you to meet Nick Fallin. 
 Nick, this is my Dad,” he said proudly.  
 
Nick stepped up and took Mr. Claussen’s hand in a firm handshake.  “Nice to meet 
you, sir.”  
 
“My pleasure, Nick.  Well, I don’t know about you fellas, but I’m hungry,” Barry 
said, rubbing his stomach.  “And I think your mother’s prepared a wonderful 
meal.  Shall we, boys?”  He pointed to the door.  
 
Although Mrs. Claussen helped with the meals, it was really their personal chef, 
Oscar, who ran the kitchen and prepared the majority of the family’s meals.
 
Dinner was served in the formal dining room.  “Don’t think we eat like this all 
the time, Nick,” Mrs. Claussen said, smiling.  Since this is your first night 
with us, we thought we’d do something special.”
 
“Oh, you didn’t have to, Mrs. Claussen… really.”  
 
After dinner, the ‘men-folk’ retired to the library where Mr. Claussen had his 
brandy and they talked.  He talked with Nick about his plans for the future and 
Chace talked about working with his dad once he completed his education.  Barry 
Claussen was a Harvard man and that was where Chace wanted to go.  Looking back, 
that was the moment when Nick set his sights on Harvard as well.  He knew he had 
to really study but he wanted to go there with Chace.  
 
The three weeks on Saranac Lake were the most idyllic Nick had spent in years.  
He almost hated to go back to school where the fall term promised to be tougher 
than the summer.  With the new influx of students, they each would be getting 
roommates.  The solution was to room together.  The minute they got back to the 
campus they got permission and Chace moved in with Nick.
 
By this time, Nick didn’t even miss his father.  He had acclimated to school and 
was having a great time and doing remarkably well with his grades.  And his 
friendship with Chace was growing daily.  
 
~/~/~
 
That Christmas was a lonely time for Nick—the first Christmas without his Mom.  
His Dad tried to make it a pleasant experience but they had not been close in 
years and it was just too wide a gap to fill in the short span of a two-week 
Christmas break.  His friend Chace and his family were in Vermont, skiing.  That 
is where Nick really wanted to be.  But, his Dad expected him home for Christmas 
so that was that.  
 
He tried not to appear too eager to get back to school but he was never so glad 
to see a holiday come to an end.  
 
~/~/~
 
It was a cold day in late January when his world fell apart… again.  
 
The big grandfather clock in the foyer of Creighton Hall could be heard, faintly 
chiming the 9:00 o’clock hour.  The boys had settled into their room to finish 
up their homework when a knock came at the door.  Chace answered it. 
 
The Third Form (9th Grade) Prefect, Adam Teasdale, stepped into the room.  
 
“Hey, Adam.  What’s up?” Chace chirped as he turned back to his history 
homework.  
 
“Chace,” Adam said, in a somber tone.  
 
“Yeah?”  Chace turned to face him.  He noticed Adam’s demeanor was suddenly very 
grave.  
 
“It’s your mother.”
 
“What about my mother?”  Chace stood and approached Adam.  “What is it?” he 
asked, impatiently. 
 
“She’s had a heart attack.  I’m really sorry.”
 
“And…?”  He grabbed the door jamb to steady himself.  
 
“She’s in the hospital.  Your father is sending the plane.  It would take too 
long to send a car for you so Justin said he’d drive you to the airport.  He’s 
bringing the car around.”
 
Chace was on the verge of tears.  Nick came over to him and placed his hand on 
his shoulder.  
 
Adam added, respectfully, “I’m sorry, man.  If there’s anything…”
 
“No.  Tell Justin I’ll be down in a minute.”  Adam left the room and Chace 
immediately went about throwing a few things in a bag.    
 
His bag packed, Chace turned to Nick.  They hugged each other, both bravely 
holding back the tears.  The bond of friendship between them required no words.  

 
Nick followed Chace out onto the third floor balcony and watched as his friend 
made his way down the stairs.  He could empathize with Chace having lost his own 
mother the year before.  
 
~/~/~
 
Nick was roused from sleep by a knock at his door.  He glanced at the clock next 
to his bed.  It was almost midnight.  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and 
stumbled out of bed.  He squinted his eyes against the bright light of the 
hallway as he eased the door open.  It was Adam again.  For a moment, they just 
stood staring at each other.  Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good news.  
 
Nick sat in the Headmaster’s office, staring off into space, desperate to make 
sense of it all.  
 
The Headmaster reached out and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
“Nicholas, I know how close you boys were.  It’s a great tragedy.”  Nick just 
looked at him, his eyes devoid of expression, his heart quietly breaking inside. 
 “Do you want me to call your father?”  
 
“No,” he said quickly.  What could his father do?  His friend was dead.  His 
mother was dead.  It didn’t pay to get too close to anyone.  It hurt too much.  
“If it’s alright, sir, I’d like to go back to my room.”  
 
Chadwick stood in the doorway and watched as Nick slowly made his way up the 
stairs.  The boy was taking it very hard.  
 
In his room, Nick collapsed on his bed, too devastated for tears.  
 
They said the roads were wet from the recent freezing rains.  The car had hit a 
patch of black ice on a bridge, crashing through the railing and into the black, 
icy waters of a creek near Sheffield, MA—only a few miles from the airport.  A 
passing motorist had happened upon the accident shortly afterwards, but given 
the remoteness of the area, help would not reach them in time.  Justin and Chace 
were rushed to the hospital but too late to save them.  
 
~/~/~
 
Nick immersed himself in his studies.  His instructors noticed a change in his 
behavior—subtle at first.  He no longer eagerly participated in class.  And, 
likely as not, he would find a seat at the back of the classroom rather than his 
usual front row seat.  But, when called upon, Nick was always prepared.  
 
Out of consideration for Nick’s feelings for Chace, the school had not assigned 
another roommate.  Nick found his room—their room—to be his only solace from the 
grief that would not pass.  Alone at night, memories of Chace would crowd his 
thoughts making it difficult to sleep.  Over time, he became inured to the lack 
of sleep which he would carry over into adulthood.  
 
~/~/~
 
That summer, between his freshman and sophomore year, he spent in Pittsburgh.  
His father did the best he could trying to balance time with his son and the 
demands of his thriving business.  They took in a few baseball games, played a 
little tennis at the Club, though Nick was not very good, and went to an 
occasional movie together.  Once he joined his father on a business trip to 
Philly for two days where he spent a lot of time visiting the historical sites, 
mostly alone while his father attended meetings.  And, of course, there were a 
couple trips to Kennywood Park.  But, it really wasn’t much fun going on the 
rides alone and Burton refused to ride; said he was too old for that kind of 
thing.  
 
But, most of the time Nick was at home, alone.  To while away the time, he 
continued reading his father’s law journals as well as other books of interest 
which he found on his father’s bookshelves.  
 
He never found any kids his age to play with in the neighborhood.  But, 
occasionally, the next door neighbor, Mrs. Atchison, baked cookies and would 
invite him in for milk and cookies.  She was in her 70s; a widow for some ten 
years.  Her only child, a son, was active military and stationed in Germany.  He 
had a wife and four kids but she hadn’t seen them in three years.  
 
He saw her puttering around in her garden one day and offered to help.  She was 
happy for the company, mostly.  He was thrilled at the end of the day when she 
gave him a crisp five dollar bill.  His dad supplied him with spending money, 
but it was somehow more satisfying to earn it.  He offered to do additional 
tasks around the house.  He helped her change light bulbs, carried her groceries 
in from the car and helped her put them away, and even washed her car.  
 
Three months seemed like an eternity.  Nick couldn’t wait to get back to school, 
if for no other reason than to keep his mind busy.  So it was with eager 
anticipation that he counted off the days of August until time to report back to 
school in early September.  
 
~/~/~
 
When they pulled up in front of the Admin Building, Grady came out to help with 
the bags.  The man who had replaced Justin after the accident had not returned 
for the fall term.  Drew Hinton was now the new assistant to Headmaster 
Chadwick.  He introduced himself.  He was about the same age as Justin had 
been—mid-twenties.  
 
“Nice to meet you, Nick… and Mr. Fallin.  Since you are returning, Nick, you are 
familiar with the campus and the routine.  Grady will see you to your room.  Mr. 
Fallin, you’re welcome to go with him if you like.  Grady will bring you back to 
your car.”
 
Burton looked to Nick.  “What about it, son?  You want me to go with you?”
 
“No, that’s alright, Dad.  I can manage.”  
 
Nick’s room for his sophomore year was on the second floor in Creighton Hall, 
facing away from The Pond.  He set the bag on the floor and walked over to the 
window where he watched his father’s rental car disappear down the lane and 
through the pillared entrance to the campus.  
 
He had almost finished unpacking when a knock came at the door.  He looked up 
just as the door opened and stared into the eyes of a scrawny, geeky-looking kid 
with glasses; his straight black hair spiked and his skin pale.  
 
The boy spoke.  “I’m your new roommate, Ashton Cabot.”  He walked over and stuck 
out his hand.  
 
Nick narrowed his eyes and returned to his unpacking.  
 
Ashton dropped his hand to his side and shrugged.  He sidled over to the other 
bed and heaved his heavy suitcase onto it.  They unpacked in silence. 
 
Nick hurriedly changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top and headed for The 
Pond.  In thirty minutes he was in the middle of The Pond, stroking the water 
with his oars, gliding effortlessly along.  The leaves were already starting to 
turn and the air had a crisp snap to it.  Nick pulled his oars in and lay down 
in the boat, peering up through the branches of the trees which overhung the 
water’s edge.  A slight breeze rustled the leaves, some stripped from their 
perch by the wind—floating, darting and finally coming to rest on the ruffled 
waters of The Pond.   It was here where he felt most at peace.  In a few months, 
The Pond would be frozen over and he would be deprived of this haven from the 
world. 
 
~/~/~
 
Nick sat in the dining hall with a group of boys he knew from his freshman year. 
 He half-listened as they shared stories of their exploits over the summer—many 
having spent their summers in Europe.  At one point, Nick happened to notice his 
new roommate across the room, sitting by himself.  
 
“Hey, Nick.  So, tell us about your summer,” Gray Dobson prompted.
 
“Aw… you guys couldn’t stand the excitement,” he swaggered.  He stood and 
grabbing his tray he turned and walked away.  
 
Nick was sitting on his bed with his back against the headboard, a book in his 
lap, when his roommate returned to the room.  
 
Already spurned by Nick in their first meeting, Ashton tried to be as quiet as 
possible.  He sat down at his desk and removed a piece of paper from the drawer. 
 He turned on the small desk lamp and began to write.  
 
A loud rap came at the door and Karl Tifton stuck his head in.  “Nick, hey.  
Come on.  There’s a chess challenge going on in the game room.  We need ya, 
man.”  Karl cast a furtive glance at Ashton, who looked up briefly but then 
returned his attention to the paper on his desk.  
 
Bradford Eggleston pushed past Karl.  “Yeah, man.  You’re the best player and we 
got lots of money riding on this.”  
 
Nick marked his place and closed his book.  “Okay,” he said, getting to his 
feet.  “What’s in it for me?” he asked as they all noisily exited the room.  
 
When Nick returned, a couple hours later, the room was dark.  He could see that 
Ashton was already in bed.  He stripped to his boxer shorts, quickly brushed his 
teeth and clamored into bed.  Ashton stirred, aroused by the noise.  
 
“Oh, sorry,” Nick apologized.  
 
“That’s okay… really.  I wasn’t asleep.”  
 
Nick turned out his light and punched his pillow to fluff it.  He lay staring up 
at the ceiling.  He could hear the steady breathing of his roommate.  
 
“Hey… uh… where’d you go to school last year?  I don’t remember seeing you 
here,” Nick ventured.  He turned his head towards Ashton.  His eyes now 
acclimated to the darkness, he could see Ashton was lying on his back with his 
hands behind his head.  
 
“London,” he answered, finally.  He raised up on his elbow and faced Nick.  
 
Nick didn’t say anything.  He continued to look at the ceiling.  
 
“My father was attached to the diplomatic corps in London for the past three 
years.”
 
Nick rolled over to face Ashton.  “Okay,” he said.  
 
“What does your father do?” Ashton asked.  
 
After a moment, Nick said, “A lawyer.  He’s a lawyer.”  
 
“Oh,” Ashton said, finally.  
 
They spent the next hour learning about each other, finally drifting off to 
sleep around eleven o’clock.  
 
~/~/~
 
The next day, classes started with a vengeance.  Nick still had his sights set 
on Harvard.  He knew it would not be easy.  After Chace died, Mr. Claussen had 
promised to help Nick in any way he could but he knew, if he had any chance, he 
had to have the grades.
 
Nick still got an occasional call from Chace’s mother.  She had slowly recovered 
from her heart attack.  They had kept the news about Chace’s untimely death from 
her, until she had regained some of her strength.  But, she would never really 
recover from the loss of her only son.  She had taken a liking to Nick and 
perhaps, in some way, he served as a replacement for Chace.  She was always 
sending him ‘care’ packages with baked goods and little gifts.  Always included 
in these little gift packs was a letter from Scooter.  He always made sure that 
he sent her a letter in return.  
 
Nick had secreted himself away in a corner of the library to finish up a report 
that was due tomorrow.  He had several books open and spread out on the table 
around him and he was thumbing through one volume when he heard what sounded 
like a book hitting the floor.  He pricked up his ears and listened closely.  He 
could only make out a little of the muffled conversation, in the echoing 
chamber.
 
“… Ashley… little faggot.”  
 
He heard more words he couldn’t make out and then a scuffling sound.  He got up 
and walked down a row of bookcases, looking down one aisle and then another.  
Finally, he saw Ashton stooped to pick up a book, while two boys towered over 
him.  The biggest one had Ashton by his shirt collar.  
 
“Listen you little faggot wimp…”
 
Nick marched over to the group and grabbed the boy’s arm.  “Hey… Leave him 
alone, man.”  
 
Nick recognized the boy as David Addison, the school bully.  Since coming to 
Oxford, Nick had been able to avoid his wrath but he had seen other boys 
harassed and bullied without mercy.  He did not recognize the other boy.
 
David squared his shoulders and stood toe-to-toe with Nick.  “Well, if it ain’t 
Nick… the little prick… Fallin.”  
 
Nick stepped back a step.  The boy clearly had him beat in size and brawn.
 
“This your little sweetie, Fallin?” he said, mockingly, pinching Ashton’s cheek. 
 
 
Ashton cried out in pain, rubbing his reddened cheek with his hand.  
 
Nick glanced at Ashton then back at David.  “Just leave him alone, okay?” he 
said, with all the bravado he could muster, given that his knees were shaking 
and all he wanted to do was turn and run.  
 
“And what are you gonna do about it, if I don’t?  Huh… Nicky?” he said, giving 
Nick a shove.
 
In a reflex motion, Nick lashed out at David with his fist, landing a glancing 
blow on his chin.  David staggered backward but managed to retain his footing.  
Nick stood with clenched fists in a classic boxer’s stance.  David touched his 
jaw, then wiped away a spittle of blood that had formed at the corner of his 
mouth.  
 
“So, you’re a scrapper, eh?”  David started forward then heard the library door 
open.  He immediately stopped and turned to his companion. In a half-whisper and 
a wave of his arm, he said, “Come on, Nate.  Let’s get outta here and leave 
these two faggots to fuck themselves.”  
 
Nick waited until they were out of sight then dropped his hands to his side.  He 
looked at Ashton then turned and walked away.  
 
Nick avoided Ashton after that.  He was civil to him but they would never be 
friends.  Nick had never been faced with the issue of homosexuality before.  It 
was something he was just not prepared to deal with.  But, the revelation did 
explain some of Ashton’s behavior.  
 
Following the run-in with David and Nathan, Nick noticed that he was suddenly 
being treated differently by the other students.  It just served to make him 
more of a loaner than he already was.  
 
The remainder of his sophomore year was a time Nick wanted to forget.  
 
~/~/~
 
Nick was able to convince his father to let him spend some of his summer 
traveling Europe with the Claussens.  They spent a week in London and another in 
Paris, then three weeks at a villa in Tuscany.  He felt loved and happy though 
the closeness with the Claussens during this time also served to exacerbate the 
pain of Chace’s death.  There were times when Mrs. Claussen would hug him for no 
reason.  He knew she was missing her son.  
 
Fallin & Associates continued to expand.  The Firm took over another floor in 
the Frick Building and hired 25 new lawyers and additional staff to support 
them.  Burton Fallin had less and less time to spend with his son.  
 
~/~/~
 
After four years, Nick had acquitted himself well at Oxford Academy; his 
academic record was probably good enough to get him admitted to Harvard.  He had 
scored 1525 on his SAT.  In addition, he anchored the crew team that had won the 
regional championship for three years in a row and was still considered the best 
player on the Chess Team.  But, it certainly didn’t hurt that Barry Claussen put 
in a good word for him with the President of the University.  Alumni legacy 
played a big part in the admissions criteria.  Mr. Claussen had made it clear 
that he wanted Nick to have the spot previously ‘reserved’ for Chace.  As a big 
contributor to the school, Barry Claussen’s wishes were given great weight.  
 
When Nick received the letter of acceptance, he was excited about it and 
couldn’t wait to tell his father.  That summer he had come home to Pittsburgh to 
wait for the news.  The moment the letter arrived, he called his father.
 
“Burton Fallin, please,” he said to his father’s assistant, Jane.  
 
“May I ask who’s calling?”  She didn’t recognize his voice, having only spoken 
to Nick on a couple of occasions. 
 
“Nicholas Fallin.”    
 
“Oh.  Your father’s in a very important meeting right now, Nick.  Can I have him 
call you back?”  
 
“Sure.  Tell him it’s important.”  
 
“Certainly.”  
 
Nick had never met Jane but he had talked to her on the phone a few times.  He 
hoped it wouldn’t be long before his father called him back.  He was bursting to 
tell him the good news.
 
He grabbed a coke from the fridge and turned on the TV.  Anything to occupy his 
time until his father called.  Time ticked away.  No call.  
 
It was now five o’clock.  He toyed with the idea of calling back, but thought 
better of it.  His father had made it clear that he was not to call unless it 
was important.  To Nick, it was important… but maybe not so much to his dad.  
 
It was almost 7:30 when Nick heard his father’s car in the driveway.  He waited 
in the living room.  The original euphoria of getting the letter had left him, 
hours ago.  What remained was anger.  He was angry with his father for not 
caring enough to call him back on the most important day of his life.  
 
Burton entered the back door carrying his briefcase.  He immediately headed for 
the library, then noticed the light on in the living room.
 
“Oh, hi, Nicholas.”  He kept walking.  “You get somethin’ to eat?”  He placed 
his briefcase on his desk and removed his suit jacket, folding it over his arm.  
He unbuttoned the top button to his shirt and loosened his tie.  
 
He exited the library and started up the stairs, removing his tie as he went.  
It never dawned on him that Nick had not answered him.  
 
Nick turned off the TV and sat staring at the blank screen.  He waited for his 
father to come back down stairs then he heard the sound of the shower, 
overhead—his father’s room.  He got up and walked out the back door to his car.  
He left skidmarks on the driveway as he gunned the engine of his Corvette and 
felt it leap and fishtail into the street, as the tires gained traction on the 
blacktop.  
 
He drove around aimlessly until dark—the pain of his father’s indifference 
eating away inside him.  He finally pulled up to the curb near a bar in The 
Strip District.  He knew it as a college hangout where they seldom checked IDs.  

 
The place was crowded.  The music was loud.  He plopped down on a vacant stool 
at the end of bar and ordered a tequila shot, which he tossed back quickly.  The 
bartender poured him another.  
 
He felt someone touch his arm and instinctively pulled it away to make room at 
the crowded bar.  
 
“Hi,” a female voice whispered near his ear.  “Buy a lady a drink?”
 
He gave the girl the once over.  She was probably 23 or so.  Nice looking but 
he’d seen prettier.  Nick thought about her question then signaled the 
bartender.  He asked her, “What’re you drinking?”  
 
“Gin and tonic,” she said, squeezing in beside him at the bar.  
 
He slipped off the stool and offered it to her.  “Here.”  To the bartender he 
said, “Gin and tonic for the lady.”  
 
“Thanks,” she purred.  
 
Nick downed his second tequila and indicated another when the bartender returned 
with her drink.  
 
She sipped her drink then said, “Do you come in here often?  I’ve never seen you 
before.”  
 
“No… I just got back in town.”  
 
“I’m Vicky.  You have a name?”
 
“Nick.”  
 
“Vicky and Nicky,” she said, with a giggle—already a little drunk.  
 
He grimaced and turned his head.  He didn’t see the humor.  
 
He swallowed the third tequila and realized he was finally feeling the effects.  

 
“You live nearby?” Vicky asked, touching his arm to get his attention.
 
“No.”  He peered at her hand on his arm then into her eyes.
 
“You wanna go to my place?”  
 
“Where’s that?”  He felt a little light-headed.  
 
“Oh… just up the road.”  She took another sip of her drink and licked her full 
pouty lips slowly—deliberately.  
 
Nick swallowed hard and after a moment, he said, “Sure.”  He tossed the money 
for the drinks on the bar and motioned her to the door.  She followed him out.  
 
“I’ll follow you in my car,” he said.  
 
“Okay.  I’m in that Honda at the end.”  
 
She didn’t live far.  Her apartment was small but clean.  She dropped her purse 
on the couch and went immediately to the radio where she selected a soft rock 
music station.  
 
“You want something else to drink?  Or do you want something a little stronger?” 
 
 
“Stronger?”  
 
She walked to the couch where she’d tossed her purse and removed a small vial of 
white powder.  She showed it to him.  
 
He nodded.  He had had some experience with coke at Oxford.  He liked the 
feeling that it gave him.  And he could use a little buzz right now.  
 
She dumped the contents out on the glass coffee table and scraped it into four 
narrow lines.  She rolled a dollar bill tightly and proceeded to snort two of 
the lines.  She handed the rolled-up bill to Nick and he quickly snorted the 
other two lines.  They leaned back on the couch to let the full effect wash over 
them.  
 
Nick was feeling no pain.  He felt something tugging at his belt buckle.  He 
made a feeble attempt to brush it away. 
 
“Nick.  Just relax,” he heard a female voice say.  
 
He smiled and muttered something unintelligible.    
 
“Yeah, just relax,” she purred.
 
Nick’s head lolled to one side.   
 
Vicky unzipped his pants releasing his flaccid penis.  He was so ‘coked-up’ 
there was nothing she could do to rouse him.  He moaned and squirmed, fighting 
her efforts.  Finally, he slumped over on the couch and, curling up in a fetal 
ball, he was out like a light.  
 
~/~/~
 
Burton had slipped into a pair of slacks and a golf shirt.  As he descended the 
stairs, he said, “Nicholas, I thought you might come to work with me tomorrow.  
Maybe…” he looked around.  Nick was no longer sitting in the living room.  
“Nicholas?” he called out.  No answer.  
 
He went to the kitchen window and pulled back the curtain.  Nick’s car was gone. 
 He saw the letter on the table and recognized the logo of Harvard University on 
the letterhead.  He picked it up and read it then dropped it back on the table 
and rubbed his hand across the top of his head.  This was great news.  Where 
could Nick be, he wondered.  
 
He walked into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee.  He had plenty of work to 
do before tomorrow.  
 
Burton rubbed his eyes and glanced at his watch.  It was after midnight and Nick 
was still not home.  He gathered up his papers and stowed them in his briefcase. 
 
 
In the kitchen, he cleaned out the coffee pot and prepared the coffee for the 
next morning, setting it on automatic.  He pulled back the curtain again and 
about that time saw lights coming up the driveway and heard the rumble of the 
Corvette engine.  He sat down at the table to wait.  
 
Nick struggled with his key in the lock.  Burton stepped to the door and opened 
it for him.  Nick almost fell inside, grabbing the door just in time to steady 
himself.   
 
“What the hell?!  Nick, are you drunk?”  
 
“Like you give a God damn!” he yelled.  He shrugged off Burton’s helping hand 
and staggered towards the stairs, which he climbed with difficulty.  
 
Burton stood at the bottom of the staircase, confused.  In a moment, he heard a 
door slam.  There would be no point in trying to reason with Nick tonight.  He’d 
just let him sleep it off and talk to him in the morning.
 
~/~/~
 
Burton was reading the paper the next morning when Nick came downstairs.  He 
looked hung-over from the night before.  
 
“Coffee?”  Burton offered.  
 
Nick glared at his father but finally nodded and said under his breath, “Yeah.”  
He plopped down at the kitchen table and put his head in his hands.  
 
“Celebrating, huh?”  Burton smiled.  
 
Nick glared back at him.  Burton placed the hot cup of coffee in front of Nick.  

 
“Why didn’t you call me when you got the letter?”  
 
Nick looked incredulously at his father.  “I did call,” he snapped.   
 
After a moment, Burton said, “Oh… right.  I think Jane did say something about 
you calling.”  He tried to recall the exact circumstances and then he suddenly 
remembered.  “Yeah… right after that I got the call from Senator Caldwell.  It 
slipped my mind, son.  I’m sorry.”  
 
“It’s not important.  Just forget it.  Forget it,” he said, not the least bit 
assuaged by Burton’s explanation.    
 
“I know how important it was for you to get into Harvard.”
 
Nick pushed the chair back, roughly, and stood up.  “I said forget it… okay?  
It’s no big deal.”  He ran his hand through his hair, already disheveled from 
sleep.  
 
Burton was nonplussed by Nick’s vehement protestation.  In an attempt to offer 
amends, Burton said, “Listen, son, why don’t we go to the Club tonight… and 
we’ll celebrate… you know?  How would you like that?”  
 
“I’m busy,” Nick said and left the room.  
 
Burton brought the cup of coffee to his lips and sipped it cautiously.  After a 
few minutes he heard the shower come on.  
 
He finished reading the paper then cleared away the few breakfast dishes.  He 
reached for his suit jacket and was pulling it on when Nick came down the 
stairs, dressed in a suit and tie, looking every bit the young executive.    
 
“Oh… where are you going?” Burton asked. 
 
“To get a job.”  
 
“Well, Nicholas… I was thinking…”  Before he could finish his sentence, Nick was 
out the door.  
 
~/~/~
 
That summer was a turning point in their relationship.  Nick was hired for the 
summer by McGill Anderton & Sharpe, a competitor of Fallin & Associates, as a 
gopher.  He remained in the house with his father but they rarely talked other 
than an occasional banal exchange about the weather.  When he packed off to 
Harvard in the fall, Nick vowed never to return home again.  
 
~/~/~
 
It was a pretty heady feeling pulling up in front of his dorm at Harvard for the 
very first time in the 1958 Corvette convertible his father had given him on his 
16th birthday.  He promised himself that he was going to leave his mark on this 
school.  Harvard would remember Nick Fallin.  
 
He quickly settled into his new surroundings.  His roommate, Eliot Worthington, 
also wanted to be a lawyer, so they at least had something in common.  He was 
from a well-to-do family.  The family had a house in Martha’s Vineyard.  And, 
yes, they did know the Kennedys.  But, El, as he preferred to be called, was a 
good time, too.  He knew all the happening places to go in Boston—for a good 
time.  
 
Nick had had little experience with the level of partying that El and his pals 
did.  He was soon to find out. 
 
He would never forget that first trip to Boston; the night he lost his 
virginity.   
 
~~~
 
“Hey, Nick.  Jack and I are going into Boston tonight.  We want you to come.”  
El smirked and winked at Jack.  
 
“Okay.”  Nick looked at the two, both grinning mischievously.  
 
“No… I mean… COME,” El said with emphasis, poking Jack in the ribs with his 
elbow.  
 
“What?”  Nick scrunched up his face, baffled by their clowning.  “Okay.  Okay.  
I said I’d come.”  
 
His two friends roared with laughter.  “You can bet on it!”  
 
“Alright,” Nick said, a little cautiously, wondering what these two clowns had 
in mind.  “What time?”
 
“Eight.  Jack’s driving.  The chicks dig his Jag.”  Jack had a red 1986 Jaguar 
XJS convertible; a beauty, and a chick-magnet for sure.  
 
They piled into the convertible.  It was a balmy night.  The first stop, Ciao 
Bella, to get one of the best meals Nick had eaten in a long time.  El 
apparently had connections because they had no reservation but after a brief 
exchange with the matre d’ they were shown promptly to a table.  
 
After dinner, El leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach.  “Okay, now 
that my belly’s full, what next…?”  He looked at Nick, who was oblivious of the 
plan, and then at Jack and they burst out laughing.  “Oh, yeah… Nick was gonna 
come.”  He pushed back his chair and started for the door.  “Come on, Nick.”  
Nick followed and Jack brought up the rear.
 
Soon they were no longer on the well-traveled roads of Boston, but had turned 
off onto a quiet residential street.  
 
“Where are we going?”  Nick asked, suspiciously.
 
“You’ll see,” Jack said, snickering.  
 
“What are you guys up to?” Nick asked, now getting a bit nervous.  
 
“Keep you pants on man…” El glanced at Jack and they broke up laughing again.  
El added, “… at least for now.”  
 
Jack wheeled the roaring Jag into a spot next to the curb in front of an old 
Victorian mansion.  Nick noticed there were lights on in several of the rooms.  
 
“Who lives here?” he asked.  
 
“You’ll see.  Come on,” El said, as he leaped out of the car without opening the 
door.  
 
They stood on the porch for only a moment before the door was opened by an 
attractive woman who appeared to be in her 50s.  
 
“El, how are you, darling?” she said, taking his hand and pulling him to her for 
a demure kiss on the cheek.  
 
“Very well, thanks, Katy.”  He stepped inside the foyer.  “Katy, I’d like you to 
meet some friends of mine, Jack and Nick.”  
 
“Please, come in, boys.”  They followed her to the living room.  “This way, 
please,” she said, turning to make sure they were following.  “Have a seat.  
What can I get you boys to drink?”
 
El asked for a beer and the others followed suit.  
 
“I’ll be right back.”  She sashayed out of the room and El followed her.
 
Nick looked around.  The place was furnished in old antiques, dark red and gold 
colors and heavy draperies at the windows.  It kind of gave him the impression 
of a brothel.  He swallowed hard and looked at Jack.  
 
“What’s going on, Jack?”  
 
“What…?  Whadaya mean?” Jack feigned ignorance.  
 
El returned before Nick could press him.  He carried three beers in his hand.  
 
In a few minutes, Katy returned with an attractive woman in-tow.  She walked up 
to Nick and introduced the woman as Abby Sinclair.  Nick clamored to his feet 
and extended his hand.  
 
“Pleased to meet you,” he said.  She took his hand.  He was surprised at how 
soft her hand was.  
 
She smiled at him.  “No, the pleasure is all mine, I’m sure.  Come with me.”  
 
Nick looked around at his friends, helplessly.  
 
“Go on, man,” El urged him.  
 
Nick was a bit on the naïve side but he was beginning to get the picture.  He 
gave her a sheepish grin then followed.  
 
At the top of the stairs, she took his hand and led him down the hall to the 
last room on the left.  She opened the door and stepped into the room.  He took 
a deep breath and crossed the threshold.  She shut the door softly behind him.  
 
He stood rigidly inside the door.  She walked up to him and placed one hand on 
the side of his face and gently leaned in to kiss him on the mouth.  He had 
kissed girls before but this was different.  It was nice.  It sent a tingle 
through his entire body.  He put his hands on her waist and pulled her to him.  
 
She pulled away, gently, touching his lips with her fingertips.  “Let’s take it 
slow, Nick.  We have all night.”  
 
All he could think about was the heat that was spreading through his loins.  A 
feeling he had never felt before—at least to this level of intensity.  
 
She wore a close fitting gray sweater and short black skirt.  Her legs were 
covered in black net stockings and she wore spiked heels, at least 4 inches 
tall.  With her shoes on, she was eye to eye with him.  
 
She took the hem of her sweater and pulled it slowly over her head, revealing a 
black lace bra; her full breasts straining to be free.  She tossed the sweater 
aside and began to unbutton her skirt, which she let slide to the floor.  She 
kicked it aside with a flick of her high-heeled foot.  She stood before him 
wearing only her black lace bra, garter belt, net stockings and shoes. From 
where he stood, across the room, he could just make out the fine black pubic 
hair where her shapely legs came together.  She had no panties on.  He caught 
his breath.  
 
She turned to pull back the coverlet on the bed, pointing her well-rounded 
buttocks in his direction.  She turned the small lamp on beside the bed, then 
walked across the room and flicked the overhead light switch off.  Nick followed 
her every move with his eyes.  
 
She was now beside him.  “Now, how about we get you out of these clothes.”  She 
pushed his leather bomber jacket off his shoulders and tossed it on the chair 
near the door.  Next, she pulled his long-sleeved sweater over his head.  
 
She kissed his bare chest, tonguing his nipples.  He closed his eyes and held 
his breath.  His muscles quivered, uncontrollably, under her sensuous touch.  

She smelled, faintly, of a very expensive perfume.  He recognized the scent from 
some of the women his Dad used to bring home.  
 
She ran her hand over the front of his pants, brushing his burgeoning hardness.  
He pulled back instinctively.  
 
She recognized his action for what it was—shyness.  She moved her hands up his 
chest and around his neck and brought his face to hers.  They kissed.  She 
slipped her tongue in his mouth and he responded.  
 
“That’s it, Nick.  Just let it happen.”  She deftly unbuckled his belt and in 
moments he was standing there in his boxer shorts.  
 
She took his arms and placed them around her, his hands resting on her round 
bare bottom.  With her arms around him, she pulled him to her and rubbed her 
pubis against his manhood.  
 
“I think you’re ready.  Come here, Nick.”  She took his hand and led him to the 
foot of the iron bed.  “Now, what say we get rid of those drawers?”  She 
indicated his boxers. 
 
A little embarrassed, he removed his boxers and stood there with a full hard-on. 
 
 
“Very nice,” she said, and turned toward the bed.  Grabbing the iron footboard, 
she extended her buttocks and spread her legs apart.  She looked over her 
shoulder.  Nick stood there, agape, not knowing what to do next.
 
“Rear entry, Nick.  But you’ll have to get closer than that.”   
 
He cautiously approached her and with her guidance he slipped inside her.  
Animal instinct took over from there.  It didn’t take long for him to explode 
inside her.  He had never imagined it could feel so good.  
 
He withdrew and she turned to face him.  “Was that your first time, Nick?”  
 
“Uh-huh,” he said, ducking his head.  
 
She took his chin and turned his face to hers.  “You have nothing to be ashamed 
of.  Some girl is gonna be very lucky to be your sweetheart one of these days.  
Now come here.”  
 
She took his hand and they walked around the bed. “Lie down.”  He lay down on 
the bed as instructed.  “I think you have a lot more pleasure left in you, my 
boy, and I plan to see that you are fully satisfied.”  
 
She removed her bra, releasing her full breasts.  She then removed the stockings 
and garter belt and climbed into bed beside him.    
 
Nick learned almost everything he knew about sex that night from dear Abby.  It 
wouldn’t be the only time he visited her during his time at Harvard—through 
undergrad and law school.  She was to become his steady sexual fix.  As perverse 
as it might seem, he probably loved her, in a way, though she was 18 years his 
senior.  She was always so kind to him; always there for him.  She insisted that 
he satisfied her every need as well.  
 
~~~
 
Nick had to laugh, recalling that night.  His friends had done him a favor.  And 
when he got heavily involved in drugs, Abby was there for him, trying to 
straighten him out.  She might have been successful if she hadn’t died suddenly 
of a heart attack.  He learned later that she had lived with a heart defect 
since birth.  He was ashamed to say that he had gone on a cocaine binge after 
learning of Abby’s death.  
 
~/~/~
 
It seemed like he had been in school all of his life.  Well, he had been… more 
or less.  He was graduating from Harvard Law School this afternoon and his 
father was coming.  It seemed like years since he’d seen him.  They talked on 
the phone once in awhile, but they had really lost touch.  Nick hadn’t spent a 
summer in Pittsburgh for years.  He had opted to travel and spend time with his 
friends rather than go home and spend time with a father he no longer knew.  
 
Nick looked at his watch.  He had to be at the gym by 2:30—no later—for the 
procession of graduates to the auditorium.  His father had said he would be 
there by noon.  It was well past that and Nick had to go.  He locked his 
apartment and jumped in his ‘Vette. 
 
He had already seen the Claussens.  They had arrived in Boston yesterday for 
dinner with him last night.  He couldn’t believe how much Scooter—she was now 
calling herself Shelley—had grown.  She was a lovely nineteen now and quite the 
looker.  They would already be at the auditorium.  
 
Nick managed to find a parking spot and headed for the gymnasium where they were 
to gather and then march to the auditorium.  He saw Rob the minute he walked in. 
 They did a secret handshake and then did a high-five—their usual manner of 
greeting.  Nick had met Rob their first year in law school and they had become 
friends.  Rob was a ‘coke’ head, but still a good friend.  They had both been 
recruited by the prestigious law firm of Swann & Cranston in New York City.  
They were ecstatic to be working together.  
 
After the ceremony, everyone mingled outside.  By some miracle, the Claussens 
found Nick in the crowd. 
 
“Nick.  Nick.”  Nick turned at the sound of his name.  He saw Shelley waving 
madly, jumping up to be seen over the crowd.  
 
Nick made his way towards her.  
 
She jumped in his arms and kissed him, right on the mouth.  He was a bit taken 
aback by it, but chalked it up to exuberance.  
 
“Hey, hey,” he said.  “Where’s your folks.  
 
She turned around.  “Oh, there they are.  Mom.  Dad,” she hollered and waved.  
 
Rachel hugged him.  “We’re so proud of you, Nick.”  
 
“Thank you, Mrs. Claussen.  I couldn’t have done it without you guys.”  He 
extended his hand to Barry.  
 
“Well, you did all the work, Nick.  We might have helped in a very small way, 
but you did the work.”  He pumped Nick’s hand then pulled him close and hugged 
him.  “Real proud of you, son.  Real proud.”  
 
They separated, Nick struggling to hold back the tears.  
 
“Where’s your father?  I had hoped to meet him.”  
 
“Oh… well, I guess he got tied up.  Work, probably.  It’s always work.”  He 
cleared his throat.  
 
At that moment, he felt a hand on his shoulder.  He turned and was face to face 
with his dad.
 
“Dad.”  He was stunned for a second.  “Ah…”  
 
“Sorry I’m late, Nicholas.  Weather problems in Pittsburgh.  We were delayed 
several hours leaving.”  Burton glanced at the Claussens as they stood quietly 
by.  “Then there was some crisis at Logan International.  They made us sit on 
the tarmac for an hour before we could taxi to the gate.  Never did figure out 
what that was all about.”  
 
“Right,” Nick finally said.  “Oh, Dad, I want you to meet Rachel and Barry 
Claussen and their daughter, Shelley.  My father, Burton Fallin.”
 
“Very nice to meet you,” Burton said, as he extended his hand to Barry, curious 
to know how the Claussens fit into his son’s life.  “Well…”  
 
The awkwardness was palpable.  
 
“Yes, well…” Barry began.  “…Nick, we still have the reservations for this 
evening at No. 9 Park, if you’re still interested.  Mr. Fallin, you’re welcome 
to join us for dinner.”
 
Nick looked at his father.  
 
“Yeah, sure.  Thank you.  My flight back is not until eleven tomorrow.”  
 
“Well, great, then,” Barry said.  “We’ll see you at eight o’clock.  I’m sure you 
want to spend some time with your father, Nick.”  Barry patted Nick on the 
shoulder.  
 
“Right.”  Nick nodded at the Claussens as they turned to leave.  Shelley took 
his arm and squeezed it before following her parents.  
 
“Alright, Dad.  Where’d you park?”  
 
“I just grabbed a cab, son.  The rental companies were backed-up with all the 
people wanting cars because of the screw-up at the airport.”  
 
“Great.  Okay.  I’m parked over here,” he indicated with his hand.  They walked 
silently to his car.  “Would you like to go for some coffee?”  
 
“That’d be fine, son,” Burton said, as he lowered himself into the Corvette 
convertible.  Getting in was easier than getting out, he thought to himself.  
 
Nick started the engine and revved it a couple times.  He maneuvered through the 
traffic and pulled up in front of his favorite coffeehouse, Francesca’s Espresso 
Bar on Tremont.  
 
“This place has the best coffee in town,” he said, as he turned the engine off.  
He glanced at his dad, his hair all askew from the wind.  “Dad,” he pointed at 
his head.  
 
Burton ran his hands over his head to tame the wisps of hair.  Of course, Nick’s 
curls were undisturbed.  
 
Nick went around and opened the car door for his father and extended his hand.  
Burton was thankful for the assistance.  
 
As they waited for their order, Nick noticed his Dad looking him up and down.  
“What is it, Dad?”  
 
“You’ve grown into quite a handsome young man, Nicholas.”  
 
Nick made a face and shook his head.  
 
“What?” his father said.  
 
Nick ignored him and changed the subject.  “How’s business?”  
 
“It’s great, Nick.  Just great.  I think you’ll like working there.”  He 
chuckled.  “And we could use the help.”  Burton noticed Nick’s sudden change in 
expression.  “What is it, son?”
 
Nick hesitated, then said, “Dad…”  
 
The waitress interrupted them with their order.  Burton had ordered a piece of 
apple pie and regular coffee.  Nick had ordered a mocha latte.  
 
Nick thanked the waitress.  He took a cautious sip of his latte.  
 
Burton waited.  
 
“Dad,” he started again.  “I… I have a job in New York.”  
 
After a long moment, Burton said, “I see.  Well… that’s fine.”  He removed his 
pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
 
“Dad, you can’t smoke in here.  Sorry.”  
 
Burton put his pack of smokes away.  He took a sip of his coffee then, with his 
fork, he speared a piece of apple and directed it towards his mouth.  He avoided 
making eye contact with Nick.
 
“Dad, I’m sorry.  I didn’t know you wanted me to work with you.”  
 
“No, it’s okay, son.  It’s fine.”  He took another sip of coffee to wash down 
his pie.  “So… tell me about the Claussens.”  
 
Much of the joy of the day had been ruined.  It would only hurt his father more 
to know how close he was with the Claussens.  He was careful to tell him as 
little as possible. 
 
That evening Nick couldn’t help but notice his father’s reserve throughout most 
of the evening with the Claussens.  He was not his usual gregarious self.  
Whenever their eyes met his father would quickly look away.  
 
Outside the restaurant, they said their goodbyes while they waited for the valet 
to bring their cars around.  Mrs. Claussen reminded Nick that he was always 
welcome at their home and they expected him to stay in touch.  
 
The black Mercedes rental car was delivered first.  Shelley surprised Nick with 
a kiss on the cheek before she got into the car.  She would break a boy’s heart 
one day, he thought to himself.  He waved as they drove off.  
 
The Corvette roared to the curb.  Nick opened the car door for his father and 
tipped the valet.  
 
“Where to?” he asked.
 
“Oh… the Wyndham on Broad Street.” 
 
Nick jammed the car in gear and pulled into traffic.  They rode to the hotel in 
silence.  Nick pulled up in front of and cut the engine.  
 
“You want me to come up… for a bit?”
 
“No.  That’s alright, son.  It’s been a long day.” He patted Nick’s arm then 
swung the door open.  
 
Nick leaped out of the car and went around to offer assistance.  His father took 
his hand, grateful for the help. 
With his feet firmly on the sidewalk, Burton patted his son on the arm.  “Sorry 
I missed your special day, Nicholas.  It just couldn’t be helped.”  
 
“I know, Dad.  Forget it.  I understand.”
 
“Okay, then…  Well, goodnight, son.”  
 
“Dad… did you need a lift to the airport in the morning?”  
 
“No.  No, I can catch the shuttle.  ‘Night.”  
 
“’Night.”  Nick waited until his father had entered the lobby of the hotel 
before getting back in his car.  
 
~/~/~
 
Nick couldn’t breath.  It was as though someone was standing on his chest.  And 
everything was a blur, like he was surrounded by a thick fog.  
 
A ghostly hand appeared.  He grasped it and tried to pull himself out of the fog 
but it was no use.  Then he heard a familiar voice say, “He was a great man, 
your father.  You know he loved you dearly, Nicholas.”  He now saw the face.  
Yeah, he recognized it.  Judge Stanton, a long-time friend of his father.  But… 
what was he saying…?  
 
He looked around.  A lot of faces he didn’t recognize.  They all crowded around 
him, touching him, reaching out to him.  His head was spinning.  He was 
suffocating.  
 
Then suddenly he saw a face—his father’s face—white and still as death.  “Dad… 
Dad…” he said, but received no response.  He slowly reached out and touched the 
face.  It was cold and dead.  The world started to spin out of control.
 
Nick flailed and struggled, trapped in the sheet.  His eyes flew open and he 
gasped for air.  He blinked several times before he recognized his room… his 
apartment.  He must have been dreaming.  His body was peppered with beads of 
sweat, his breathing still elevated.  
 
He sat up on the side of the bed, his head in his hands.  Finally, after a 
couple deep breaths, he felt his heart rate normalize.  He padded to the 
bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, then caught a handful of water in 
his palm and gulped it down.  He rubbed his face dry with the hand towel and 
made his way back to bed.  
 
He closed his eyes but sleep would not come.  He glanced at the clock on his 
bedside table.  Almost one o’clock.  He turned on his side and closed his eyes 
again.  The images from his dream started to reappear.  His breathing became 
erratic.  His heart pounded in his chest.  He forced his eyes open and sat 
straight up in bed.  He reached for the phone.
 
The phone rang several times before it was finally answered.  “Hello.”
 
“Dad?” Nick said, relieved to hear his father’s voice.  
 
“Nicholas?  Is that you?”
 
“Yeah.  Sorry it’s so late, Dad.  I…”  Nick hesitated, struggling for just the 
right words.
 
“What is it, son?  You okay?”  Nick could hear the genuine concern in his 
father’s voice.
 
“No.  I mean… yeah, I’m okay.  I just thought… well, I thought maybe you might 
wanna have breakfast in the morning.  And… then I could drive you to the 
airport.”
 
“I’d like that, son.”  For a moment there was silence.  
 
“Oh, and, Dad… I… I love you,” he said softly.  
 
Burton was suddenly overwhelmed by these words and it took him a second to 
respond.   His voice cracking, he said, “I love you too, son.”  
 
“’Night, Dad.”
 
“’Night, son.”
 
Nick slowly replaced the phone in its cradle and lay back on his bed.  That was 
the last thing he remembered before his body surrendered to sleep.  
 
THE END