Children of the Knight (58 page)

T
HIS
time it was Arthur who called Helen and asked her to set up a press conference at City Hall. Helen was only too delighted to help. The mayor was informed and the event scheduled again for 3:00 p.m. That particular time was at Villagrana’s insistence—he wanted to hammer home the school-hours issue. Thus he could reiterate to the public that Arthur’s kids—which he would surely bring—had
not
been to school that day.

Council President Sanders cautioned the mayor about losing his cool or allowing himself to be sucked into some stupid debate about “rights for children, for God’s sake.” Villagrana assured him that
he
, not Arthur, would control this press conference.

At five minutes before three, a crush of reporters and camera operators crowded around the stage and podium, with the Mural Project in the background. Only this time, there were no kids presently working on it. Scores of onlookers stood anxiously behind the reporters awaiting the arrival of Arthur.

Suddenly, a ripple of excitement shimmered over them as the king appeared, flanked by his leadership team. Arthur carried little Chris in his arms, and Jenny walked at his right side. A buzz went through the crowd because no one had ever seen her before.

Arthur and his crew strode up to the platform where the mayor, flashing his most camera-ready smile, greeted them.

“Welcome, King Arthur. We meet at last.”

The crowd cheered, not for the mayor, but for Arthur. They started chanting, “Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur!” causing Villagrana to lose that pasted-on smile very quickly. Arthur held up a gauntleted hand to the crowd, and they settled down at once. He looked especially resplendent in his purple tunic and scarlet cloak and golden crown. He set Chris down, and Reyna stepped up to take the boy’s hand.

The mayor indicated the microphone embedded in the podium, and Arthur hesitated.

“You talk into it,” Reyna whispered in his ear.

He gave her a grateful grin and turned back to the crowd. He moved closer to the mic. “Ye have challenged me, Mr. Mayor, to return my knights to thy schools. Doth that be correct?”

He stepped back, and the mayor leaned in. “That’s correct, yes.”

“And yet,” Arthur went on, returning to the mic, “methinks thy schools have already had their chance. Thy system hath not only failed to educate these children in counting and linguistic skills, it canst not even teach such basics as right and wrong.”

The crowd roared its approval.

The mayor leaned in. “It’s not the job of schools to teach right and wrong.”

Standing in back, behind the crowd of spectators, Sanders lowered his eyes and shook his head.
Here we go again
.

“Then may I ask whose job it doth be?”

The mayor took the bait. “It’s the job of parents.”

Arthur nodded. “And doth parents spend every moment with their children, Mr. Mayor? It doth seem to me that just as in my day, teaching and modeling right from wrong beeth the responsibility of
all
adults.”

The crowd roared even louder. Sanders shook his head again as Villagrana stepped to the mic.

“Look, we’re not here to debate. The law in this state says these kids must be in school, period. Do you have any idea how much money you’re costing the schools by keeping your kids out?”

Arthur looked confused. “What hath money to do with this issue?”

The mayor sighed smugly. “Let me educate you,
King
. In this country schools are funded with money by how many students are present each day. Every kid in every school each day is worth money to that school.”

Arthur nodded, understanding exactly what the man was saying. “So, if I understand thee correctly, it be important for these knights of mine to be in school for the school to have money, whether they actually learn anything of value or not?”

Another roar of approval from the crowd. Jenny and Arthur’s knights exchanged quick looks of approval. Sanders just bowed his head in disgust and slipped away through the crowd.

Villagrana glared murderous daggers at Arthur for a split second before he recovered himself for the cameras. “You are in violation of state law, sir. I could have you arrested here and now.”

The crowd booed vociferously.

“And all of my knights as well?” Arthur replied calmly, indicating those with him. “I could call upon the other thousand to join us.”

The crowd hooted with laugher, and Helen watched Villagrana squirm like a fish on a hook.

“Ye and thine have failed these children, Mr. Mayor,” Arthur said, looking straight at the man. “I doth be their teacher now, and there be nothing ye canst do to change that. And do you know why? Because I give them a choice. Thou and thine do not.”

Villagrana was fuming. “You are
not
a credentialed teacher!”

That was Jenny’s cue, and she stepped forward to the mic, practically shoving the mayor aside. “
I
am. I have a multi-subject credential and a single-subject credential, and I’ve resigned my position at Mark Twain High School to work exclusively with Arthur’s knights. Between he and I, they’ll learn all the lessons they need.”

A wild cheer and stamping of feet and thunderous clapping arose from the crowd. Arthur faced off against Villagrana and bowed respectfully. “Good day to you, sir.”

The flabbergasted mayor stood open-mouthed as Arthur took Jenny’s arm, leading her and his knights off the podium and through the phalanx of reporters. They threw ad-libbed questions his way, but he just smiled and moved on to the crowd of onlookers. These were the people he needed on his side, and he thanked them all graciously for coming out to support him. After he and the kids signed numerous autographs, the posse set off on their return journey to The Hub.

M
OST
of the leadership team went their separate ways, peeling off to their various homes upon agreement to meet as usual tomorrow. They would clean up some areas in Van Nuys in the morning while Jenny decided how best the school lessons should be dispensed. Obviously, she could not teach a thousand kids at once, though that would be the ultimate extension of today’s public school policy, she’d mused, since nowadays the goal seemed to be cramming as many kids into one room as possible.

No. More likely, they’d work in shifts, just like homeschooling was done, with she and Arthur supervising the older kids and the older ones helping to teach the younger. Half of each day, they decided as they left City Hall, would be devoted to learning, and the other half to doing. The cleanups were going so well that these could not be halted. Perhaps two half-days in a given area might suffice for cleanup of that entire neighborhood.

Enrique, Lavern, and Luis had remained behind to work on the mural, calling the other artists on their cells to come join them. Since the mayor refused to let them work during school hours they only had a brief window of sunlight each day to work with.

As soon as Arthur entered The Hub, Chris trailing behind, he pulled out his phone to check for messages.

“No word from Lance?” Jenny asked from beside him.

Arthur shook his head. Something was wrong. He could feel it. In the first Camelot, the seed of doom had been Mordred. But there was no Mordred this time. So why did he feel that shadow of doom approaching?

“Can we play catch, sire?” Chris asked, running to snatch up the football he’d left beside Arthur’s throne.

Arthur smiled down at him. Such innocence, he thought as he gently stroked the boy’s long blond hair.
How much like Mark he looks
.

“In a bit, Sir Christopher,” he replied with a smile. “I must needs speak with the lady for a time.”

Chris looked crestfallen. “Okay.” And he took off looking for someone else to play with.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Mark?” Jenny asked, breaking into his thoughts.

He sighed, pulled two chairs over next to each other, and they sat. And he told her everything. He even showed her Mark’s letter.

She’d not expected something like this but understood how it could happen.

“Arthur, these children you’ve collected are damaged, some very deeply,” she began, thinking back on some of the troubled kids she’d had in her classes over the years. “They’ve been told for so long they’re worthless that all they can see in themselves is failure and weakness. They can’t see their strengths, or successes, even when adults like us help bring those things to their attention. They almost set themselves up for failure because the very idea of success is too foreign, and too scary. There’s only so much any of us adults can do to try and repair that kind of damage. Mark’s feelings for you aren’t your fault.”

Arthur sighed again. “But I should have seen it, Jenny. Had I just spent more time with him, I’d have seen it in his eyes. Then perhaps I….”

“What?” Jenny asked honestly. “What could you have done? Told him
not
to feel that way? Arthur, kids are not adults, even though this state likes to pretend they are when they get in trouble. They don’t have the experience to process feelings like we do, and they can’t reason things out as well. It’s not built in yet. No matter what you might’ve done differently, Mark would still feel rejected because you can’t be the person he wants you to be.”

Arthur soberly digested her very astute opinions. “Ye be a remarkable woman, Jenny. Wise beyond thy years, methinks.”

She nodded her thanks at the compliment, and they fell silent a moment. “Methinks, Jenny, I may have lost Lance, as well.” It was barely a whisper.

She looked at him sharply. “What do you mean? Is he okay?”

Arthur turned to gaze at the empty chair that should have been occupied by his First Knight, the most remarkable boy he’d ever encountered. But the chair was silent. And so was his phone. Why didst Lance not communicate with him? “I don’t know.”

He fell silent, lost in his thoughts, going over and over in his mind how he may have hurt the boy. But there’d been so much happening, so many challenges, so many words exchanged between them.
It couldst be almost anything
, he realized with a sigh, turning to gaze into Jenny’s eyes.

Her beauty distracted him, and they gazed deeply at one another. But Lance kept intruding. That shadow of doom morphed into the boy’s eager young face.