Free Evolution by L.L. Bartlett Page B

the wall rack. “What for? Is Jeff in trouble?”
    “They didn’t tell me, sir. They’ll only talk to you.”
    “Now?”
    “If you could, sir.”
    Richard glanced at his watch. “I have to be at the hospital in an hour and I’ve got some errands I need to run. I haven’t got time today.”
    Or tomorrow either, for that matter.
    “Sir, I really think you should go.”
    Something in the old man’s voice cut through Richard’s impatience. “Why?”
    “The boy hasn’t been himself lately. He comes in late from school. He’s been hiding out in his room in the evenings. He don’t come play cards with me hardly at all since Christmas.”
    Just the mention of the holiday sent Richard into instant guilt mode. He’d disappointed the kid that day by volunteering to work an extra shift at the hospital. And then there’d been the fiasco of the former cook tossing out half of Jeff’s gifts and stealing the rest. Jeff hadn’t seemed to care about the lack of presents—more angry that Richard had reneged on their plans to spend the day together. Nearly three months later, Jeff was still giving Richard the cold shoulder.
    It had been weeks since he’d even had time to sit down and talk with the kid. And, in fact, he couldn’t remember their last conversation. His latest rotation of thirty-six-hour shifts in the ER left him mind-drained and physically exhausted. Dealing with a moody adolescent hadn’t been high on his priority list.
    Curtis’s deep brown eyes continued to bore into Richard’s.
    The guilt shifted into overdrive. “Okay. I’ll go.”
    #
    Richard had only been to Amherst Central High one other time. A year before, when he’d taken Jeff in to register him for school. Richard had gone to a private Catholic high school complete with knuckle-whacking Jesuit priests and uniforms, where the student body had looked down on the rabble that went to public high schools.
    He found the main office with no trouble and checked in with the secretary. The plump, matronly woman wrote down his name. “I’ll tell Principal Evans that you’re here.”
    Richard leaned against the secretary’s desk, glancing at the clock on the back wall. He should have called the hospital to let them know he’d be late.
    Annoyance flared brighter within him. What could the kid have done to warrant a visit to the principal’s office? Jeff’s last report card had been pretty good. Mostly Bs with a few As sprinkled in. He’d had some trouble a year ago when a couple of upperclassmen decided to make a punching bag out of him, but he hadn’t mentioned any problems since. The fact that they didn’t talk may have played a part in that.
    The secretary returned. “You can go in, sir.”
    Richard had never once visited a principal’s office. He’d never been in trouble at school. He took in the room. As a descriptor, cramped, immediately came to mind. The narrow office was lined with four-drawer file cabinets. Framed certificates decorated the wall above them. A woman with gray-streaked brown hair looked up from the paperwork before her on the desk.
    “Mr. Alpert—”
    “Dr. Alpert,” Richard corrected. “I’m a resident at UB.”
    “Dr. Alpert,” she acquiesced. “Please, sit down.” She waited until he took the chair in front of her desk. “It’s been brought to my attention that you’ve ignored two notices sent home by our school nurse, Mrs. Kleinschmidt.”
    Richard raised an eyebrow, and stared at her.
    “I take it by your expression that you never received them.”
    “No, I didn’t. What’s this about?”
    “I wish Mrs. Kleinschmidt could be here to speak with you, but she was called away on a family emergency.”
    Richard almost smiled; he knew the feeling.
    Mrs. Evans cleared her throat. “First off, let me say that your brother has been a model student. But his teachers have noticed a change in him since Christmas vacation.”
    Sudden sweat broke out under Richard’s collar. “How so?”
    “His grades