Silver Arrow Ch 25 27

Silver Arrow Book 3 Rose

Chapter 25 It Makes You Proud

Harlan, Rose and I had been in Sacramento, discussing some tree pruning issues with one of the resident experts at the Department of Food and Agriculture. They had been working with UC Davis and Chico State, searching for ways to be more efficient and productive with the annual pruning. Rose and I had to admit the conversation was well above our understanding, but Harlan seemed to relate to it and that was what mattered. What I got out of it was that we could be a little more aggressive with our pruning on certain varieties.

When we arrived back at the ranch, Debbie and Margaret were waiting for us. They didn't look happy.

"What's up?" I asked my daughter.

"Bill got beat up, Dad. We need to go pick him up."

"Beaten up? How? By whom?" I asked. This was a complete surprise. Bill was anything but aggressive.

"It started at lunch hour. Bill saw a guy and a girl arguing. The guy had his hands on the girl where they shouldn't be," she said, indicating her breasts. "Bill pulled him off her and pushed him against the lockers and told him to cut it out. A teacher came along then or I'm sure there would have been a fight. Anyway, after school, the guy he had hassled and three of his buddies surrounded Bill. One of them grabbed him from behind and then this guy, Ryan, started beating on Bill."

"Where is he, Debbie?"

"He's at the school clinic. He missed the bus."

"Okay, let me get the car and we'll go get him. Where is Sandy?"

"She's at the house, doing her homework I think."

"Stay here," I said. "I'll let her know what's going on then come back and pick you up."

We were at the school fifteen minutes later and Debbie directed me to the school clinic. In my day it was called the nurse's office, but times had changed.

"I'm here to get my son," I told the woman who met me. "I'm Doug Hansen and Bill Hansen is my son."

"Yes, Mr. Hansen. Your son will be okay. I don't see any need to send him to the hospital. Before you go, I need to let you know that I'll be informing the school administration that his injuries were the result of a fight on school grounds. You will probably get a call from them to learn what discipline might be handed out."

"What do you mean, discipline? My son was attacked by four boys. Why would he be disciplined?"

"I can't answer that, sir. But I'm sure the principal will want to hear his side of the story."

"Alright, in the meantime, can I take him home?"

"Yes. I've given him two regular Tylenol to help with the pain. His ribs and face are pretty sore."

"Thank you," I said curtly. Inside, I was beginning to get angry and I knew I shouldn't take it out on the nurse.

Bill came out of the examination room and one look at him told me he wasn't feeling very good. His face had a couple of dark bruises and one eye was almost closed shut. He was moving very carefully and I suspected that was because of the ribs.

"Hi, Bill. Let's get you home," I said, almost afraid to touch him. One look at Debbie told me she was very upset as well.

"This is wrong, Dad. All he did was to stop that creep from mauling a girl. She's a sophomore, for Pete's sake. Ryan Fitzpatrick is a senior. Just another football jerk."

"Is that who beat you up, Bill? This Ryan guy?"

"Yeah. I suppose Deb told you what happened."

"Okay, we'll talk about this when we get home," I said.

It took a couple of minutes to get Bill into the front seat of the Dodge. He was very sore and bending and seating himself in the vehicle was painful. I was careful not to hit any bumps along the way to lessen any discomfort beyond what he already was suffering.

Rose was waiting for us at the house when we arrived, anxious to hear what happened.

"Why don't we get you comfortable, Bill, then you can tell us the whole story," Rose said.

"Sure," he answered as we moved him into a comfortable upright arm chair in the living room.

It took us a couple of minutes to get settled and while we did, Sandy came into the room. She had obviously heard what had happened to her brother and went to him. I could see the look of concern on her face.

"Are you going to be all right, Bill?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'll be okay, Sandy. Just a little sore right now."

That seemed to settle my youngest daughter and we all sat to hear the story from Bill.

"I was heading for my locker at lunchtime when I saw this guy, Ryan Fitzpatrick, giving Brigit Stenstrom a hard time. He had his hands where they shouldn't be, on her boobs, and she was telling to get away and leave her alone. But he didn't. There were a bunch of other kids around, but they didn't interfere. I guess because Ryan is so big and on the football team and all.

"Anyway, I don't know why I did it, but went over to him and told him to knock it off. He ignored me, so I grabbed his arm and pulled him away. I guess he lost his balance and fell back against the lockers. He got mad at me and started to come for me. Just then, a teacher came along and heard the noise and told us to break it up and move along. When we did, Brigit ran off with a couple of her friends and I started for my locker.

"The next thing I knew, Ryan grabbed me by the back of my shirt and said I hadn't heard the last of this. Then he took off. I didn't know what to expect, but I figured he would try and get even with me for interfering in his fun. Most of the kids know what kind of jerk he is. He thinks he can get away with anything since he's a senior and one of the captains on the football team.

"After school, I was heading for the bus when Ryan and three of his football buddies surrounded me. One of them grabbed me from behind and pinned my arms behind me. Then Ryan started beating on me."

Bill paused at that point and I took the opportunity to ask a couple of questions.

"Did anyone witness this?"

"Yeah," Bill nodded. "There were a bunch of kids there. Some of them were yelling 'Fight, Fight' while they watched. I don't remember much after that. I was on the ground and pretty dizzy from his punches. After a while, a teacher came along and saw me and helped me to the clinic. Mrs. Morano checked me over. I guess that's when you showed up."

"Debbie, how did you know what happened?"

"I knew about the hall fight at lunch because my locker isn't far from Bill's. One of my friends told me about what happened after school and then Mrs. Morano called the house to let us know Bill was in the clinic."

"Bill, do you know who the other three guys who attacked you are?"

"Yeah, they're all Ryan's teammates. Julio Chavez, Brian Cranston and Jamal Willets."

"Okay," I said, my anger growing, "tomorrow morning I'm going to contact the school and have a meeting with the principal. This isn't going to be forgotten."

"You're rightfully angry, Doug," Rose told me later that night and we lay in bed. "That was a terrible things those boys did to Bill. I've told Margaret and Harlan what's going on and they are just as upset as we are. What Harlan said was to remind you not to lose your temper and if you run into problems, to let him know. If necessary, he will get our lawyer involved."

"Thank you, Rose. I hope it doesn't come to that. I hope this can be resolved with a meeting. But, I expect this Ryan guy to be suspended at least. What he did to Bill was bad enough, but I had another look at the school's website tonight. They have a so-called 'zero tolerance' for sexual harassment or assault. What he did to that girl was assault in my book."

"I agree. Football hero or not, he has to be punished for that alone, much less his beating on Bill."

I had a restless night and didn't sleep well at all. When I got up in the morning, I was still angry at what had happened to my son and I had to force myself to remember Harlan's warning not to lose my temper.

"My name is Douglas Hansen, and my son Bill is a student at your school. He was beaten on school property yesterday and I would like to arrange a meeting with your principal."

There was a long pause before, "I'll see if he's available," the woman's uncertain voice said.

I waited for what must have been two minutes before the receptionist came back on the line.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hansen. Mr. Whistler is unavailable. Perhaps you can call back later."

"Madam, my son was assaulted by four students on school property yesterday. If Mr. Whistler doesn't care to discuss the issue with me, perhaps I can take it up with the school board, or the sheriffs department."

"Let me talk to Mr. Whistler once more. Perhaps we can work you into his schedule."

I could recognize a stall when I heard it. My anger was growing and I wasn't sure if I could maintain a civil conversation with these people. This time the wait was longer before I heard a man's voice come on the line.

"This is Norman Whistler. I understand your son was involved in a fight on school property yesterday. I hope you realize that is cause for suspension." He was trying to intimidate me and unfortunately for him, I wasn't taking the bait.

"Mr. Whistler, my son was held and beaten severely by four of your students. He did not even get a chance to fight. I assume therefore, that the four students have been suspended themselves. Am I correct?"

"No you are not, Mr. Hansen. I have no record of any witnesses to this altercation. Schoolyard tussles are not that uncommon. I suggest you forget about it. Boys will be boys," he said in an almost jocular voice.

"Are you aware, Mr. Whistler, that my son broke up a sexual assault on one of your female students and the beating he took was in retaliation for that?"

"I have no such knowledge. No one has reported any such situation." He was back on his high horse once more.

"Well, I do have that knowledge. I also know who was involved in both the assault and the beating. I suggest we meet to discuss just what action is appropriate. Your website clearly indicates that sexual misbehavior falls under your 'zero tolerance' category."

Silence.

"Very well, Mr. Hansen. I'll try and make some time for you at four o'clock this afternoon. Bring your son with you when you come. I'll see you both then," he said, abruptly hanging up.

I sat there, staring at the phone and steaming inwardly. This man had no intention of doing anything that would upset the smooth running of this little kingdom. There was a problem, but he didn't want to know about it. He just wanted it to go away.

"You're all red in the face," Rose said as I walked into the Cummings ranch house.

"I just got off the phone with a Mr. Norman Whistler, principal of Ronald Reagan High School. He attempted to give me the brush-off, but I wasn't going for it. He doesn't want to know what happened. He even threatened that Bill might be suspended for fighting."

"Is Bill in school today?" she asked.

"No, I thought it better he gets a couple of days rest. It's Friday, so he'll only miss one day. By Monday, he should be feeling better."

I noticed Harlan and Margaret in the background, listening to the conversation.

"I assume you got your meeting with this principal?" Harlan asked.

"Yes, he reluctantly agreed to meet me a four o'clock."

"How convenient," Rose said. "All the kids will be gone and no one around to call in for corroboration."

"I hadn't thought of that," I admitted. "I don't expect to get very far with this meeting. I don't know if I should go to the sheriff and file a complaint."

"Knowing our sheriff," Harlan interrupted, "I suspect he will want you to work it out with the school unless you are prepared to file a criminal complaint."

I sighed. I didn't want to let this go, but I wanted some justice for Bill and I was sure the young girl's parents would want that too.

"Do you know the name of the girl who was assaulted?" Harlan asked.

"Bill does. It's Brigit something ... Stends something," I answered.

"Would it be Stenstrom?" Harlan asked, clearly interested.

"Yes, that was it, Stenstrom," I said.

"I know the family," Harlan said. "Her father is our supplier of chemicals for pest and disease control. They live near Davis where his business is located."

He went to the phone and picked it up, speed dialing a recorded number.

"Jan, it's Harlan Cummings. How are you?"

(Pause)

"Good. Jan, did your daughter report a problem at school yesterday. I have a report that one of the male students assaulted her during the lunch hour."

(Longer Pause)

"That would explain her behavior then. Would you talk to her and see if she will tell you what happened? The young guy who intervened on her behalf took a severe beating for his efforts by this thug and his three friends. The school is not being very cooperative in dealing with either the attack on your daughter or the beating."

(Pause)

"Let's see what Anika's meeting with the principal achieves before we take the next step, Jan. I'd rather keep this out of Sheriff Jankowski's hands. I wouldn't want him to over-react. I think with some judicious pressure, we can achieve what we're looking for," Harlan said.

(Pause)

"Thank you, Jan. Give me a call when you have the facts. We may want to team up on this. I'm very sorry about what happened to Brigit. Please give her and Anika best wishes from Margaret and me. I'll look forward to hearing from you. Goodbye."

He hung up the phone slowly and turned to us.

"Well, he said Brigit came home yesterday in a very upset state of mind, but wouldn't talk about it. She said it was over with and she just wanted to forget it. Anika didn't want to make her more upset, so they didn't pursue it. She went to school today, so that made them think that everything was all right. Now they know that isn't the case. Anika will phone the principal's office and demand a meeting. Jan was all set to call the sheriff, but I think I've convinced him to hold off until we have all the facts and know what action the school will take."

"Thanks, Harlan. I didn't mean to get you involved in a family problem, but thank you for your help."

"We are family, Doug. You and your children are just as important to me as my offspring are."

"I'm very grateful for that, Harlan ... and Margaret. It feels good to have that kind of support."

"Hey, I'm on your side too," Rose said, elbowing me in the ribs.

I put my arm around that. "Yeah ... I know. Don't let me take you for granted," I said, kissing her lightly.

"I don't have a lot of time for this, Mr. Hansen. I'm a busy man," Norman Whistler intoned in his most officious manner.

"And I don't have a lot of time to debate what should be done about the beating my son took on your school grounds. Why don't we get that out of the way to start?" I said, doing everything I could not to shout at him.

"Why did your son get involved in this so-called beating to begin with?" the man continued with a barely concealed contempt.

"As I tried to explain on the phone, he intervened in what was clearly a sexual assault on one of your female students ... Brigit Stenstrom. I believe you will be meeting with one or both of her parents," I said.

"I can't comment on that," he said, dismissing my attempt to confirm he had such a meeting.

"Bill grabbed Ryan Fitzpatrick's arm and pulled him away from Miss Stenstrom to prevent him from furthering his assault."

"So, you admit your son assaulted Mr. Fitzpatrick first," he said, almost in a triumphant tone.

"He did no such thing. He merely pulled him off the girl. Fitzpatrick lost his balance and fell against the lockers. Then, one of your teachers came along and broke up the group. Fitzpatrick warned Bill that this was not the end of it. After school, while on his way to the bus, he was attacked and held by three members of your football team and then viciously attacked by Ryan Fitzpatrick in retaliation of interfering with his 'fun' at lunchtime. You can see for yourself the results of the beating, and your nurse has a record of her examination of his injuries."

"Do you have any witnesses to this so-called attack?"

It was becoming clear that he wanted nothing to do with this problem and wanted to go away as soon as possible.

"Yes, there were between fifteen and twenty students who witnessed both the assault on Miss Stenstrom, and the one on Bill. I'm sure I won't have any problem finding some who will step forward and corroborate Bill's story."

"This is a tempest in a teapot, Mr. Hansen. I'll speak to Ryan Fitzpatrick and get his version of events. I'm not prepared to just take your son's story. In the meantime, I'm suspending your son for one week for fighting on school grounds."

"Are you crazy?" I spat. "How many times do I have to tell you, he didn't fight. He was beaten up."

"He admits to assaulting Ryan Fitzpatrick in the hall at lunch hour. That alone earns him a suspension."

I sat there steaming, barely holding it together.

"You haven't heard the last of this, Mr. Whistler. Not by a long shot. Come on, Bill, let's get out of here," I said, standing and moving to the door.

As we walked out, I noticed a woman standing at an adjacent door, watching us, expressing a look of concern. I saw the name on the door, J. Pettinger, Vice Principal. She appeared quite young to be a fairly senior administrator.

~*~

"It was a disaster, Rose. Bill's been suspended for a week which I'm sure will go on his record. Whistler only condescended to 'talk' to Ryan Fitzpatrick ... probably because he had to justify his actions. He wouldn't admit to any meeting with Anika Stenstrom or anyone from the Stenstrom family. I don't know what to do next," I said, shaking my head.

"I do," Harlan said with the voice of authority. "We get Marvin Krane to pay a visit to mister school principal and give him some useful advice. He's left himself vulnerable on several levels and I'm sure, knowing Marvin, that he will take personal delight in bringing Mr. Whistler down a notch or two."

"Who is Marvin Krane?" I asked.

"He's our lawyer, both family and business. I've known Marvin for a long time and he'll rub his hands in glee over this. He'll be the first to tell me it beats the hell out of writing contracts and updating wills."

"I can't ask you to do this, Harlan," I said. "This is a family problem and I'm responsible for the family."

"Have you already forgotten that you are family?" he snapped back. "Doug, when you work for me, I need you to be thinking about that and not worrying about Bill and what may happen down the road. When I said we are all family, I meant it. Besides," he grinned. "I wouldn't dare deprive Marvin of the pleasure he'll get deflating Mr. Whistler's balloon."

I sighed. "Thank you. I don't know what else to say. Thank you."

"That will do nicely," Margaret smiled. It was the first time she had spoken since I'd arrived at the ranch house.

Harlan picked up the phone once more and speed dialed a number.

"Hello, Marvin. How are you today?"

(Pause)

"Well, I'm here to let you know I've got a special assignment for you. Can you meet with me sometime before Monday?"

(Short Pause)

"Would Saturday morning be all right, Doug?" he asked me.

"Sure."

"Saturday morning, say ten o'clock," Harlan said into the phone.

(Pause)

"Oh, I don't want to spoil your fun, my friend. Just be prepared for a very interesting story when you get here."

(Pause)

"Thank you, Marvin. See you tomorrow morning. Bye."

~*~

Marvin Krane was a bit taller than me, probably in his late fifties, lean, well-dressed, and with a friendly look that would disarm many people. I doubted that he was harmless, however.

The meeting included Harlan, Rose, Bill, and myself. It lasted almost two hours as we went over the details, developed a strategy and an action plan. Harlan was right. Marvin was almost smiling at the prospects of this challenge.