An 'X'mas Carol Part Two, Chapter 6

An 'X'mas Carol Part Two, Chapter 6
By Jaech Reiter
jaech_reiter@yahoo.co.uk

* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
* * * * *

Part Two, Chapter 6

"Hey, wake up!"

Ben sat up with a jolt. Last thing he remembered, he was standing at the Bus Stop, fully naked, and awaiting the onslaught of jeers as everyone came to realize that he had the nuts and dick of a 10 year old. If even that old.

"Where am I?"

"At the bus stop. Passed out, actually. So on second thought, don't wake up, not just yet," Jacob Marley said with a smile.

"Don't wake up? . . . . ." Ben looked around at the kids at the bus stop. Everyone seemed to be ignoring him and Jacob sitting on the pavement. " Jacob, what the hell are you talking about?"

That's when Ben noticed the old-fashioned clothes, and that sickly yellow aura. It wasn't Jacob. It was Elias.

"Elias!?"

"Yep," the ghostly boy smiled and held his arms out wide, as if on display, " In the apparitional flesh!"

"Whoa. Did I hit my head when I fell?"

"No. Well, yes; but that's not what caused this. I had to pull you into the past. It's the only place I can exist." Elias stood and pulled the boy up. " We have to talk, Ben."

Ben stood and looked down at himself. Great. Back in his white BVD's again. Well . . . . it WAS better than the alternative.

"Wait, wait. How far into the past are we? These guys all look the same. And where am I? . . . . the, uh, . . . 'Then-I' . . . . I mean. Where is . . . . he?"

"It's last month, that's all. Something nearby and convenient. And you and my great-grandson are over there."

Elias pointed to the farther edge of the spread-out group of kids. Ben looked and saw himself – whoa, that was sooo weird – and his best friend Jacob listening to a bright orange IPod Nano, each boy with one earpiece of the earphones. Ben knew that Nano. It was currently (and guiltily) living in the bottom of his sock drawer. He had hid it there because his mom avoided his sock drawer (It was often a scary place.), and he didn't want her to run across it. For a very good reason, too ---- it was stolen.

Ben flushed with guilt and tried to distract himself by talking to Elias.

"So what did we need to talk about? Wait! Did I pick the right task this time?"

Elias just smiled and began walking down the street. Ben hurried up to follow him.

"Come on, Elias!"

He tried rephrasing his question, but still Elias looked satisfied with simply taking in the warm winter day, and he did not respond.

So," Ben asked, just trying to engage the spirit in something, " You can only exist in the past. Then, uh, just how far back in the past can you go?"

"Oh, as far as I need to show the errant their ways, although technically, I can't go back any further than the first Christmas after my death. And I died in October . . . . . ." He didn't finish the thought at first, but smiled inwardly, as if reliving happy memories, and then, almost as if in a confession: " Sometimes, Ben, when no one's looking, I go back to the apple orchard, where Elmira and used to go. Our place, where no one knew we went."

"Elmira? She's the one you . . . . uh . . . . ."

"Knocked-up? As you call it now-a-days, I think? Yes. We would meet under a certain tree in secret. We even carved our names in secret upon the tree: 2E4A."

"2E4A? How was that your names?"

"2 E – Elias and Elmira – 4 Always. Again, it was our secret. Even our declaration of love for each other didn't give us away, which was good, as her father, Edward, hated me. But sometimes I go back and watch her play with our child under that same tree. She never knows I'm there, watching. Once, I went back as far as the Spring after I died. She was there, full with child still, singing a lullaby of Tennyson to our unborn son. After awhile she spoke to me, called my name out loud, as if she knew I was there. She asked what I thought about the name for a child, she was sure it was a boy, by the way her belly hung. She said 'Edward or Josiah, which name would you prefer, Elias?'"

"Why not name him Elias?"

"Oh, her father would never permit that."

"So what did you say back to her?"

"She couldn't hear me, boy. There was no point in answering her."

"I know. But what did you say?"

Elias smiled. " I told her I much preferred Josiah and she knew it. I thought Edward was a right horrible name to give a child, but as I couldn't do anything about it, I guess either would have to do."

"What did you want to name him?"

"Caleb, after my best friend; you see, as a spirit I already knew he was going to die in two years. I got to see him briefly on his way through. Back then, though, I wasn't supposed to be friends with him. I guess I did a lot of things I wasn't supposed to in those days. Probably what landed me this job."

Ben laughed. " Nice to know you're actually normal, Elias. You would really like Jacob a lot."

"Oh, I do, Ben, I do." Elias mused, but then he became serious, coming out of the distant past to the present past, whatever it was more appropriately called. " We need to talk about you, Ben, because you can see each of the Spirits of Christmas only twice! The first time when we show you your wicked and dispirited life, and the second and last time when you most desperately need us."

"Well, I desperately need to know if I picked the right task this time. I can't afford another one of your 'payments'."

Elias just smiled and walked a little further, looking up at the evergreens and palm trees as he did so.

"The weather here is always so nice, Ben. But I did so enjoy being the Spirit of Christmas Past three years ago in Vermont. That boy was so far down the wrong path that I had to appear to him as far back as October." Elias laughed quietly to himself as he remembered that one. " But I did so much enjoy the trees there. So many colors! It was amaaazing. And my yellow hue, well, that . . . . that seemed to be right at home among the sugar maples and their bright leaves."

Ben just rolled his eyes. Not another stroll down Memory Lane. Like he cared about Vermont right now.

"My . . . . . . payments? Hello?"

"You know another nice thing about Vermont?" Elias asked, still walking further and further away from the bus stop.

"Ben & Jerry's?"

"I don't know those two boys. They must be on the 'Nice' List. No, I was thinking of maple syrup. Delightful stuff, though our family could never afford it when I was alive."

"Wait, there's a List?"

"You know who else likes maple syrup?" Elias stopped and turned to Ben. " Your mother. Absolutely loves the stuff. It's like heaven to her, though she hasn't had any in many, many years."

"That's because she just gets the Tesco store-brand stuff. It's the same thing. She likes it good enough."

"It's not the same, Ben, and she doesn't like it at all. It makes her sad, but she wants you to appreciate what you have, so she eats it with you. She doesn't get the real maple syrup because she needs her money to raise the three of you. She sacrifices her own heart's desires for you three."

"OK. . . . . Well, . . . . . I feel even better now." Ben said, somewhat sarcastically in a tired and worn out voice.

Elias smiled and looked at the boy. Ben had a good heart, deeper within.

"Ben, can I ask a favor? I don't have any right to, and . . . . you can say no. There would be no consequences for you, if you did. In fact, if you said yes and didn't do it, I would know, and . . . . uh . . . . I would understand; but still, absolutely no consequences for you for not doing it. Like I said, I don't really have a right to ask . . . ."

"Sure, Elias," Ben said, humoring the . . . . spirit . . . as he waited for Elias to get to the point of their visit. " I'll do you a favor. What is it?"

"My great-grandson. I'm not allowed to visit him like I am you. And this one short stint as a Nudie Juvie, it won't quite be enough. A serious challenge lies ahead of him. The future Spirit and I have talked across the present once or twice. But there will also be an opportunity to show him the better path. Will you do it? When the opportunity comes? You'll know it when it arrives," and at this point Elias touched the naked chest of the young teenager and passed onward an energy of sorts to within. " Your heart will tell you when."

"Well, yeah, sure, Elias. He's my best friend. Of course I would do that."

Elias shook his head. " You don't understand. You'll have to do this at a great sacrifice to yourself. Something you'll hate very much."

Ben nodded his head that he understood, even though he didn't really. He then looked down the street at the kids at the bus stop and saw his little brother standing apart. Alone. And looking straight at him and Elias.

No. Ben shook his head. Timmy couldn't see them. This was Ben's hallucination. His head had hit the pavement, right?

But he understood the level, if maybe not the type, of sacrifice to which Elias referred. Could he do that again. For Jacob?

"OK, Elias. I'll do it. You sure I'll know when, and how, and all that?"

"You'll know."

"Is this why we met today?"

"No, no. That favor is just some foolish old spirit's hope. The reason we met was because of your dire need. Before you wake up, you have to make a decision – a most urgent one."

"About what?"

"About why you are taking on this task."

"Well . . . . I thought that was kind of obvious, Elias. I want my nuts back. And my dick. And my hair. My muscles, too. And however many inches in height I've lost."

Elias nodded. " That was the deal. If you finish this task, you do get everything back, just the way it was and in just the same future direction that it was going to go, as nature intended. But is that all?"

Ben gave a short laugh. " Um, sorry, Elias. I'm 13. Would there be a better reason than that?"

Ben looked again up the street. Timmy was still staring at them. Maybe the boy was just in a trance, although no one else down there seemed to be. . . . . Daydreaming?

"No other reason then?" Elias asked, sounding somewhere between hopeful and pleading.

Ben was still looking at Timmy in the distance. It sure looked like the boy could see them. Without even thinking, Ben held up his hand and waved experimentally.

Timmy waved back.

By the time Elias turned to see what Ben had waved at, Timmy had already turned around. His bus had just arrived.

"He cannot see you, Ben. The same rules apply as last time."

"Timmy." Ben said. " Timmy's the other reason I'm doing this. But you already knew that. You know how much I want to be a good big brother to him. You can see in my heart, right?"

"Sometimes." Elias agreed. " But this time you must choose out-loud. And you must do so before you awaken, which will happen when that bus pulls away from the curve. If you don't choose . . . . well, . . . . . . . . . let's just say you really need to."

"I have to choose between getting my junk back or being Timmy's older brother? That's fucked up!"

"Do not curse, and no, it's not an either/or. You simply have to choose which one is the more important reason for completing this task. And you must choose with your heart."

"So . . . if I choose Timmy, I still get my nuts and all back the way they're supposed to be?"

"Yes, that was the deal; only you'll get them back much more slowly. You'll have to go through puberty all over again, and it will take as long as it did the first time, starting from where you are at this moment. On the other hand, if you feel your genitalia is the more important reason to complete the task, you'll get them all back the moment you wake up, just the way everything was before you met me. We can even alter everyone's memory so that they don't even remember the smaller set."

"But Timmy . . . . I'll still be his big brother?"

"Yes, of course."

Ben looked back at the bus stop. Timmy was the last one to get on the bus, and stepping up on to the platform, he cast one look back at Ben and Elias. Ben waved again. He could have sworn he saw Timmy smile.

"Well when you put it like that, Elias. The choice is pretty obvious. I'd much rather have my junk back the way it was."

"I understand."

Even from this distance, Ben could hear the doors start to shut and the engine rev up.

"But Timmy is still the more important reason," Ben said with finality, and then the bus pulled away from the curve.

The sky began to darken almost immediately, as if the day were going in fast forward. He turned to look at Elias who was smiling.

"I can see why my great-grandson likes you so much as his friend."

Ben blushed and shrugged. He didn't know how to respond to compliments. He rarely ever got any anymore.

"Hey, Elias," Ben asked as a troubling vague thought came to him, " What would have happened to Timmy, eventually, if I had chosen my, um, my junk, as the most important reason."

"Ben, I like you very much, perhaps more than any child I've had to try and correct, and I am VERY happy to tell you, that you will never know."

With that he passed his hand over Ben's eyes and closed them, except that his hand smelled something awful and Ben recoiled, trying to move away from it.

"Elias! What the hell? Your hand---"

Ben opened his eyes. Elias wasn't there. And he was laying on the ground, with some man kneeling over him.

"My name isn't Elias, Ben. You may call me Mr. Agnew and my counterpart is Mrs. Wickfield. Do you remember us? We're the Community Angels to whom you, uh, surrendered. And I suggest you watch your tongue. That means no cursing."

"But Elias was---" Ben looked around and suddenly realized he was naked! Out in the open! He quickly covered his crotch with his hands and got a clucking disapproval.

"Unh unh uhhh . . . . bad boy!"

"Oh sorry, right." Ben said, pulling his hands away, though it was the hardest thing in his life and took such a concentrated effort that no one there would realize the half of it. " I'm sorry. I forgot. I . . . ."

"It's all right, Ben. The smell you noticed is from smelling salts waved under your nose. We'll chalk up the one cursing and the one cover-up as disorientation. But I warn you, there will be NO second chances. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

He was back to blushing severely, though he let Mr. Agnew help him stand. There looked to be fewer kids around, by a fifth at least; and he couldn't see his brother.

"My brother, Timmy? Where is---"

"Relax, Ben, he got on the elementary school bus while you were passed out. It pulled away from the curb right before you woke back up. I'm afraid your show-and-tell here is cut short for now. We'll make sure you make up for it again, later. In the meanwhile, we're going to stop by the hospital, just to make sure you are OK, and then stop and see the judge."

Ben nodded, though he still felt a bit dazed. There was something else that just didn't seem right . . . . . .

"Ugh, gross, what is all this stuff all over me?" It smelled familiar, though he couldn't quite place it out here at the bus stop.

The other kids started laughing – and in earnest.

"Oh," Cynthia said with a shy smile, " uhhhh . . . .well, . . . . also while you were out . . . it seems my little brother hit his second orgasm. And he apparently had some reserves somewhere, because he shot, like, four or five loads all over you."

"Augh . . . . . . gross."

The face Ben made just made everyone laugh even harder. Even the two Angels got a laugh out of it.

"Serves you right," Cole Nickles said as he stepped up to Ben and looked up and down the boy's body with disgust. " All those times you kept bragging how BIG you were . . . . . you're pathetic. And in more ways than one."

"Cole . . ."

"Yeah," some other boy yelled out, " you're even smaller than Cole!"

Now the crowd was laughing at both boys. Cole blushed and got on the bus, but not before a quick flash of anger at Ben.

"All right, let's get you to the hospital and let all these kids get on the bus before they are any later for school."

"Uh, Mr. Agnew, am I going to be blamed for the bus being late?"

Agnew thought about it for a while, leading the youthful offender down the street by his arm. " Nahh. I think we'll just put the blame on that Carton kid. He has more of a mouth on him, anyway."

"And I think I have some baby wipes in my car." The lady Angel, Mrs. Wickfield, said. " You can clean up with those before you get in."

Hanging out in a court antechamber, naked and waiting for your family to arrive, is never a good thing. The Angels first had to see if Ben's self surrender was adequate to put him in the program. Nobody had come across this particular possibility in their training. But the judge made some calls to the school, his mom, a couple of neighbors, Jacob's mom, Michael Dorritt's mom, . . . . . . suffice it to say, Judge Breese was willing to put him in as a Nudie Juvie. And from the reaction he had at the bus stop on his initial exposure, the Judge was pretty sure that Ben would hate every moment, despite the fact he had the balls to sign himself up.

Although privately, Breese wondered about the sanity of the boy, as he had heard Ben didn't have much to speak of in the way of balls. Why would he do this? Expose himself so, when clearly he had so much to ridicule, having so little?

Ben was wondering the same thing while he was waiting in the anteroom. He was actually allowed to redress, as he hadn't been formerly collared by the Angels. The truth was, he had totally forgotten that he had a tiny penis and balls when he volunteered himself to the program for being a bully – well, tiny by his memory of what he used to have. Sort of poetic justice for calling Tim, Tiny Tim. He would laugh, if it wasn't himself facing that justice. And now, if he really had met Elias again and hadn't just hit his head, he was sentenced to have small junk until they started growing back on their own.

Now, EVERYONE in his grade would pass him up in puberty. And most of the guys in the grade below. And a few below that. Now he was just getting depressed. There was one way to know if this meeting with Elias had really taken place; he just had to wait on his little brother. His mom was picking up Tim and Fran and bringing them to the court to witness his appearance in front of the judge, so he wouldn't be waiting long to ask Tim.

"What are you here, for?"

A girl of about 11 or 12 asked him. Well, her face looked 11; her boobs looked 12 or older. She was sitting across the room with her mom, dad, and older brother. He looked to be about 14, maybe, so Ben would have thought he would have gone to his school last year, and the girl should maybe be in a grade or two lower and at his school this year, but neither of them looked familiar.

"Cheryl, do not be rude. It isn't any of your business."

"No dear," the dad stepped in, admonishing his wife. " If that boy is a delinquent, nothing in our criminal code or social etiquette gives him the right to avoid questioning. Cheryl has every right to pry here. If the boy doesn't like it, then perhaps he shouldn't have committed his wrongdoings."

Ben was glad that wasn't his dad. On the other hand, he was at least there for his kids. That was something. He wondered which kid he was there for, though. That was soon answered.

"What happened to innocent until proven guilty," the older boy sulkily asked, with a tone that bordered on stark disrespect. " What if he really didn't do anything at all? Guess that doesn't mean a whole lot to you, does it dad?"

"I suggest you watch your tone, Hunter. You are not getting out of this with anything less than some punishment by the court, how much more you get depends on the lip you give the judge."

The boy didn't say anything else, but his eyes narrowed in sulking anger. The girl however arched her neck back a little as if her dad had just given her license to torture.

"So, like I asked, why are you here?"

Ben felt himself wanting to tell the girl off, but he didn't dare show that at this juncture. So he just answered.

"Bullying."

"Someone says you're bullying, or you actually are a bully?"

"I was."

"Was? How convenient. Was a bully, always a bully, I say."

As if the pretentious bitch actually knew anything, but here Ben had to censor his thoughts, remembering what had happened to Kyle when he had used the 'B' word. He tried to just change the topic of conversation to something less charged.

"Where do you go to school?"

"That . . . is none of your business."

SMAACCK!!

"OW!!!"

The mom's hand had come down hard on the girl's thigh, startling all three children.

"I'm not going to tell you again about being rude. Now answer his question civilly."

The girl scowled something fierce at Ben, and Ben feared he had just made an implacable enemy. And he didn't even do anything. He sure hoped she didn't go to his school.

"I go to St. George's Prep."

"That's where Sam goes."

It just sort of came out. Ben hadn't meant to give out anything that could possibly identify him to this girl.

"You know Sam Marley?" It came out as an accusation more than anything. " I doubt it. I don't think Sam would hang out with the likes of you."

"Not, Sam. His brother." Ben suddenly just wanted to push this girl's head in the toilet.

"Jacob?" She asked in just as haughty a tone. " Now I know you're lying. Jacob Marley doesn't have anything to do with little kids like yourself."

"Little . . . ?" Ben started, about to ask if she was nuts, but then remembered he did look younger, more physically immature, than he had just a couple days prior.

"I warned you already about that tone, young lady."

"But mom," the girls started, and here Ben thought she must be stupid to use that know-it-all defensive tone so close to a Juvie Judge's courtroom. Even Ben wasn't THAT stupid. " He is so obviously not worth any manners nicer than what I am being very kind to show him."

"All right. We'll see about that." Now her mother's look of anger and disgust matched the other three.

Oh boy, Ben thought. When was his own family going to get here?

"Mr. and Mrs. Prentiss?" A lady came in from the Judge's courtroom. They were using the small courtroom, the one for smaller private family issues. " Judge Breese is ready for Hunter now. If you would all follow me?"

They followed the lady in, and then Ben was left all alone in the waiting area. He didn't think at the time that he would miss the angry family, but he was fairly certain now that he preferred it to being all alone and contemplating his doom without distraction. He had about ten minutes of this, what felt like an hour, before the far doors opened and his mom walked in.

"Mom!" Ben exclaimed, very happy to see her finally, although at the first glance at her face he could tell that she wasn't feeling the same.

"Both of you," she said to Fran and Tim who had walked in behind her, " Go over there and sit next to your brother."

She was ignoring Ben directly – for the moment. She knew in her heart she was too angry to address him. Yes, she should be proud of him for 'volunteering' for his due punishment, but the things he had done to deserve it, the things she was just now hearing about, these made her furious. And a part of it certainly lay on the question as to whether he really was just scheming because he saw the writing on the wall. After all, if his best friend had been taken down, and supposed Ben had been worse, who's to say that the boy wasn't just hedging his bets. Playing on their sympathies?

That kind of manipulation was too close to their dad and how he worked, and she didn't trust herself to respond, or even speak, to Ben while she had an image of his father in her head. She gave him a look, however, that let him know that for now he should just be happy she wasn't yelling. He didn't press the issue. She walked over and sat between him and Fran (Fran had left an empty seat between herself and her older brother, making Timmy sit on the other side of her, even farther away from Ben).

They sat there unspeaking for close to a minute and a half before the court doors opened and the Prentiss' walked out, shocking all four of the Scruggs.

Mrs. Prentiss was the only one who looked happy and at peace. They pushed Hunter out in front of them, and Fran went gaga over the naked adolescent, her eye's popping and jaw dropping, lip edges curling into a smile like she had just caught Santa pulling her gift out of his bag. Now here was a man!

(Well, according to her 12 year old rising libido. The boy wasn't anymore hung than Jacob, but he had a bit more hair, and darker, too; and he was taller and way more handsome.)

While Fran was smitten with the sultry demi-god of the Nudie Juvie Offenders, Ben's mind was blown away by what Mr. Prentiss was angrily pulling behind them by the ear. It was his naked 11 year old bratty daughter, Cheryl. No wonder Mrs. Prentiss had been smiling.

"Of all the disgusting things I've seen this week . . . ." The father was saying, and he did indeed look disgusted. " . . . . stuffing your training bra with tissues! Who were you trying to show off to? Well I got news for you missy; you're going to be doing a lot of showing off now."

"No, Dad, please . . . please, please, no Dad."

He pulled her along, and Ben got his first close up gander at the female naked form. Wow. She might have been totally flat-chested and only the smattering of the finest pubic hairs below, but that smooth descent to the pubis, the light rise of the Mount of Venus, and the descent into the folds of the promised and hope for nether regions could give him jack off dreams for the next year alone. He liked. He liked very much.

His smile was more for the show than even the knowledge that this uppity girl had gotten her due. But, unfortunately, the show was short lived. His mom's hand came down quick over both his and Fran's eyes. She wasn't as worried about Tim, as his looking was more curiosity than prurience.

"Mom!!" Both kids exclaimed at once, unsuccessful in their attempts to uncover their eyes.

"It's OK, ma'am. They can look." The father insisted. " It's part of my kids' punishment."

"All the same," Ben's mother added. " I don't know if I'm quite ready for that."

"I understand," The man graciously said, much more graciously than it sounded like he could be earlier. " But, as you say, all the same, she owes this young boy an apology, despite his own delinquency. Go ahead, Cheryl."

The girl sneered as she said it, not that Ben could see, as his mom still kept his eyes covered, but he could hear the distaste in her voice.

"Sorry . . . . for being rude!"

"Hmmph." The father said, clearly unimpressed. " Perhaps we can try again after your induction."

"Marvelous idea, dear. Let's go children." The mom even sounded happy.

Ben, however, was far from it. At the mention of the word 'induction' the memories of what Cynthia and Becky had been saying came flooding back. He went pale as a sheet from the thought. His mom removed her hand after the Prentiss family disappeared behind a door at the other end of the room.

"Goodness, Ben, are you excited or actually frightened at seeing a naked girl? At least I hope it was the girl. Perhaps I should have let you look, just so you could get over whatever fears you're harboring and just learn to act correctly."

But it wasn't that that was bothering Ben at the moment, as he turned his gaze to the door that lead to . . . . somewhere. Somewhere where something horrible was going to happen.

"Or perhaps you're just thinking ahead to what's going to happen to you?" Charlotte Scruggs, continued, still angry. " Well, buster, I can tell you this, after just half of what I have heard so far from your sister and brother, and Mrs. Marley as well, you are going to be naked as the day you were born for AT LEAST two whole days. Do you understand me!?"

Ben nodded, and only barely said 'yes'm'. It wasn't his own nudity that was disturbing him at the moment. That was back to an abstract concept for as long as he had on his clothes. But the induction – that was about to happen at any time now, and Ben seemed like he could already feel the ghost whispers of it in his ass. It terrified him.

"Ben?"

He didn't look at her or respond, but just turned his attention back to an unfocused center of the floor on the other side of the room. He could have sworn hear heard a sharp crack from beyond the door. A shudder went through him, and a piercing scream, such as can only be let out by an adolescent boy in pain, followed from behind those same doors.

"What was that?" His mom asked, but to no one in particular. It couldn't be what she thought it was. But a second crack and scream soon followed, and then a third. By the fourth, no one was saying anything, but it definitely sealed the somber mood of the wait for the judge.

The eighth and ninth from the boy, with Ben's own body exhausted by the shudders that went through him, did not bring any word from the door into the courtroom, and neither did the eleventh or the fourteenth.

The eighteenth wail rang out and met with just as much silence in the antechamber as all the others. The sheen of sweat across Ben was as indifferent to Ben's own torture on the twentieth sobbing cry, as it was on the twenty-second. Mercifully, however, just as the next one rang out, the cracks of the paddle now clearly undeniable in their ferocity, the bailiff came to the door to call in the Scruggs family. All four jumped up immediately and hurried into the court, shamefully not wanting to know if the boy would be inducted to 25 or 50 or beyond. They just wanted out of the antechamber.