Story 08 – Part 1 – The Work of Elders

The number of children running around the apartment complex had greatly reduced over the past month. Nero had started harassing his daughters for grandchildren despite the fact that he was grateful to have a breather. Tasha Faber had taken the children to the gym that she taught gymnastics at since the kids were so eager to run around. It was amazing to only have fifteen left, but Nero had to admit that he did miss most of the little rascals.

When they first got the load of children, Nero had actually thought that they would only have them for a few days before returning them to their home country. As it turned out, when Carmine took charge of returning the children, they ended up waiting to move the kids in groups. Nero had to admit that it was a good idea after a while. The children were a better support group for each other than any of the well intending counselors that had come by.

Carmine had personally made sure that each child had a home to return to before he had sent them back. So far there had not seemed to be any problem, but then Carmine had admitted to Nero that the group of children still around was not as fortunate. At least two of the kids seemed to have no one to return to, not even distant relatives, and there were chances that more were in that same situation. This last group of children also came from small tribes, so it was harder to confirm anything.

“Nero, dear,” Wilanna whispered.

“What is it?” Nero yawned as he cracked his eyes open.

“I know the lobby couch is comfortable,” Wilanna teased, “but won’t Jordan and his parents be here soon?”

“I’m up,” Nero said as he closed his eyes again.

Wilanna laughed and kissed his balding head before she went back to their apartment. After a few minutes, though, Nero pushed himself up on the couch. Jordan had been very surprised to find out that his parents were going to be here today. They usually planned things well in advance, so Nero was just as curious as Jordan as to why the Thompsons were travelling so far on the spur of the moment.

Jordan had gone to pick them up in his newly restored car. It was no longer that obnoxious lime green, but Vire had actually gotten it painted plaid as a joke. Nero had to laugh as he remembered the look on Vire’s face when she realized that Jordan would drive his car around looking like a giant kilt. The debate was whether or not that was the worst paint job on Jordan’s car or not. When Jordan pulled out his photo collection of various paint jobs, it ended up being a toss up between the hot pink with silver stars, the plaid, or the graffiti looking attempt of self painting.

“Don’t worry about the luggage, Dad,” Jordan’s voice echoed from the stairwell. “I told you I would get it later. Dad. No. Mom, tell him to stop.”

Nero started to laugh as he got up from the couch and headed to the parking garage stairwell. By the time he reached it, Jordan had won the argument and had gotten his parents to come into the apartment building. For as old as they were, the Thompsons were in incredible good health. They were nearing their eighties and still going strong.

“How’s everyone going?” Nero asked.

“Doing, dear,” Mrs. Thompson corrected. “How are you feeling would be a little more proper.”

“Sorry ma’am,” Nero said.

“Sweetheart,” Mr. Thompson interrupted, “he’s no longer in your third grade class.”

“I’m still her favorite student,” Nero added.

“At least you didn’t say favorite son like you use to,” Jordan said.

“Anyway, what brings both of you down to earth?” Nero asked.

“We’ve decided to help the unfortunate rather than sit nicely on our retirement,” Mr. Thompson stated.

Jordan waved his hands a little bit and Nero realized that the full story was more complicated. From what he could tell, Jordan was signing ‘fraud victims’ and if that was true than Nero would help them get everything back. Jordan must have read Nero’s mind because he slowly tried to sign that his parents actually liked having a reason to go out and do something.