Page 15 of Family Matters

Reardon O’Hara.The name of Semyon Narkin’s grandson’s father made Donna Fabrizia smile. Soon, the Great O’Hara, as he was known in the Irish Mafia world, was going to have an ugly war at his doorstep, and his good friend, the librarian, was going to help him. Unless a rift would appear between the two, because of the Irishman’s best kept secret.

An evil smile curled Donna Fabrizia’s lips into an ugly, cruel rictus. That’s what killing two birds with one stone means,she thought.

CHAPTER 11

“This is the basket with goodies for the children who come to the library and for your special needs students.” Albert put the basket on the counter, a big smile brightening his face. “These are your muffins, and that’s for the kid at the library.” He pointed to a large paper bag. “His favorite pastries, fresh from the oven.”

“Thank you, Light, you are an angel, as ever.” Brian flashed a small, cute grin as he used his childhood friend’s nickname from back when they were kids. “I’m concerned about him and his health. He doesn't talk, and refuses to eat anything. He barely sips some water.” Sadness took over the librarian’s face. “Luckily, I coaxed him with some of your tasty pastries, Light.” With those words, the librarian walked out of the bakery, carrying the basket and the brown paper bags.

Lawrence shook his head. “Man, I’ve never seen a kid so stubborn in my entire life.He sat in the grass, on his backpack, for a few hours, and refused to come inside The Base, in spite of me and the other guys repeatedly opening the gates for him.”

“You didn't know Brian as a teen.” Albert replied, looking amused in the librarian’s direction.

“C’mon, I don’t think he was that bad.” Lawrence frowned when his husband nodded. “Or was he?”

“He really was.” With a smile, Albert took a trip down the memory lane. “He was around fifteen, when, one day, I heard his dad tell him not to worry about the lawn. Did he listen? No, sir.Our friend here would get his brother and himself fed and ready for school and have track practice after. He and his brother would get home and put something in the oven, then went out and mowed the grass. Poor guy looked like he was going to pass out.” The baker grinned again. “So yes, incredibly stubborn. Oh, I forgot about him getting into fights with the school bullies.”

“Well, no wonder he became the exceptional man so many of us, me included, admire and respect.” Lawrence said in a voice thick with emotion, as he looked at a pic of Brian and Albert together, the librarian sporting a black eye and a split lip. “I wonder what's the story of the kid at the gates.”

“No idea but Brian said people are like books; there is always a story waiting to be told, only that some of them are written in a coded language.” Albert sighed softly. “Hopefully, our friend can decipher the boy, because he is in dire need of help. I don’t know why, but something’s telling me he came here to hide from someone.”

Meanwhile, after arranging the basket on the counter, Brian took the paper bag with pastries and went where the cots were, to check on the mysterious boy who was the subject of the discussion he and his friends had earlier. There, curled under a thick blanket, the kid was still sleeping, mumbling incoherently in a language which, judging by how it sounded, was either Russian, or Serbian.

The small water bottle next to the bed was only half empty, which made Brian shake his head in defeat and cast a worried look in the boy’s direction. Although he was thinner than when he arrived at The Base, the teenager couldn’t be consideredskinny. His body was well-proportioned, with lean muscles under the slightly tanned skin.

Brian went to his seat behind the counter and started to work, classifying books, checking some library cards which had to be renewed, and taking a look at the list with the books due to be returned that week. He switched from a task to another, a tactic which kept him from getting bored, and finished everything before lunch break.

With a smile of satisfaction, Brian stretched in the chair, arms above his head. However, the moment of relaxation didn’t take very long, as the librarian started again to think about the boy sleeping on the cot. There was an immense sadness in his eyes, and something else, a familiar air, which he couldn’t put his finger on.

Like every time when something intrigued or annoyed him, Brian pinched the bridge of his nose, then closed his eyes and lightly massaged his temples. After a few seconds, he felt the air shifting and gradually becoming colder, the chill seeping into his bones and making him shiver so bad, his teeth started to chatter.

A spectral form began to materialize, and soon a woman appeared in the main reading area. She was the second spirit, after Tanner’s friend, Gary, who visited Brian at the library, which made the man suspect she was carrying an extremely important message. To his huge surprise, the ghost totally ignored him, heading to the resting area.

Leaving his seat, Brian followed the woman’s specter and saw her crouched down in front of the cot the mysterious boy slept on. She put one of her delicate hands on his forehead, then ran her fingers through his thick, black hair, murmuring sweet words of endearment. After kissing the boy’s temples and forehead, the ghost turned to the librarian.

Brian got the message and gestured to the desks and chairs in the reading area, inviting the spirit to sit down and do the same. The woman nodded and, without further introduction, started to communicate with the librarian. She was the mother of the boy sleeping on the cot, and he blamed himself for her death, but it wasn’t his fault.

The woman was completely new to sharing her thoughts via a mind link, because it was very disorganized in offering information, often changing the subject, but Brian was grateful for everything he got. She told the librarian her son was seventeen and his name was Fyodor, the Russian equivalent of Theodore. However, for some reason, the teen chose to go by Ferris, and insisted on being called that.

Brian also found out from the ghost that the two of them, and the boy’s devoted bodyguard, a young Irishman named Callum, were caught in an ambush and taken prisoners. The mother and son managed to escape, but she was shot in the back while covering the boy’s retreat, and that’s why he considered himself responsible for what happened to her, and planned to starve himself to death.

No, she had no idea who was behind the kidnapping and her murder, the spectral presence answered through the mind link to Brian’s unspoken question. However, she suspected it could be the doing of one of her father’s rivals, who couldn’t stand the thought that he had more success in his line of business.

Thank you for taking care of my son, you did everything in your power and more, the spirit telepathically messaged Brian. After a few moments of silence, the ghost hesitantly suggested that he take Ferris home. Maybe, she hesitantly continued the thought, being permanently in contact with kids of all ages and becoming engaged in their games and activities would help him get over the loss he just suffered.

The flow of thoughts between Brian and the spirit stopped again, like when she would choose the right words. The next telepathic message was about Ferris’s father, who didn’t know about his existence, but would welcome him in his life, and so would the kind man he was married to. The chances for the two of them to meet and interact would be greater if the boy would live with the librarian and his family, the ghost concluded, before vanishing.

The library’s hall became gradually warmer, and Brian returned to his seat behind the desk and devoured all the muffins, like he hadn’t eaten anything in days. The librarian was a little taken by surprise by his huge appetite; he was always hungry after letting the ghosts use his body to talk to their beloved, but never after just talking to them.

There’s still plenty of room for lunch, Brian rubbed his stomach with a smile, then relaxed into the chair, replaying the conversation from earlier in his head, like he did every time a ghost paid him a visit. Remembering the spirit’s suggestion to take Ferris home, the librarian facepalmed himself, wondering why he didn't think about that.

Ferris woke up, pulling Brian out of his thoughts. Using his name, the librarian asked the teenager if he wanted to eat anything other than the usual pastries, but the question didn’t get an answer. The boy sat on the edge of the bed, took a small sip of water, then stared blankly ahead, moving his lips, but not making any sound.

Clearing his throat and carefully formulating his sentences, Brian told Ferris about his intention of taking him home, to live with his family. The librarian’s words were met with silence and a shrug, but, at the end of the shift, he didn’t oppose when the man took his backpack and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, guiding him out of the library and to his car.

To Brian’s immense surprise, Ferris quickly adjusted to living in a house full of children; he didn’t avoid their company and even offered monosyllabic answers to their questions. Liam even started to boss the kid around, mainly reminding him to stay hydrated and insisting he should eat more than the few spoons of soup or morsels of whatever dish was served.

Ferris coming to The Base, and then Brian taking him home happened before Reardon’s return from exile. On the daywhen his demon brother-in-law appeared in his living-room out of the blue, the librarian only incidentally mentioned the boy who was in his room all day long, and didn’t come down until dinner. He didn’t offer too many details, and Reardon, discreet as he was, didn’t ask.

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