Home Free - Fern Michaels [9]
Miffed, Jack said, “The short one will do.”
“He said, ‘Let’s get you ready so you can kick some ass.’ Then he went to sleep.”
“Now, that’s my kind of master. How old is this one?”
“Eighty-six! He trained the past three winners. He says Harry will be his fourth winner. Then he will retire.”
“Eighty-six, huh? He looks to be . . . ah . . . at least seventy-nine,” Bert said. He looked over at Jack and hissed, “What happened to Charles’s taking care of this?”
Jack’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Harry said this guy was just waiting in the wings and beat out Charles’s guy.”
Yoko giggled. “This man could wipe up the floor with you, Jack, and Harry in less than five minutes. I can ask for a demonstration if you like. But first we have to wait for him to wake up.”
Bert and Jack ran to their respective classrooms. Yoko continued to giggle as she got ready to leave for the nursery. Sometimes things just worked out right. She offered up a little prayer of thanks before skipping her way out to her car. Inside, the engine running, she started to cry.
It was five o’clock when Jack and Bert finished up with their classes for the day. Once in a while they had a light day, and today had been one of them. Both were surprised when they looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway. He looked uneasy as he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. When they wouldn’t or couldn’t surface, Harry just shrugged.
Jack took the initiative. “We peeked in a while ago and it looked to us like you got yourself a winner this time around. The guy was sleeping just like your first master. That’s a real shame that Master Choy had to leave. We know how broken up you were over that. But you know what, Harry? That, too, shall pass.”
“That’s the biggest crock of shit I ever heard come out of your mouth, Jack Emery. Look, I . . . what I mean is . . . listen . . .”
“It’s just one lousy word, Harry. Thanks. There, I said it for you. You wanna kiss and make up now or later?”
Harry advanced across the room, his bare feet slapping on the tile floor. Jack winced, and Bert tried to wiggle behind Jack. Harry reached for Jack’s shirt and had him in a bear hug before Jack could blink. He kissed him so hard on both cheeks, Jack thought his back molars were going to come loose. Harry released him and did the same thing to Bert. Then he backed up a step and bowed low. He turned without another word and slapped his way back to the door. “You . . . you rascals. I love you guys!” And then he was gone.
“Holy shit!” Jack said in a strangled voice. “I guess he didn’t notice that his new master was sleeping.”
“That’s one for the old memory books. Jesus, Jack, Harry kissed us. And, he bowed to us.”
“Yeah.” Jack grinned. “Yeah, he did.”
Back at Pinewood, Charles and Myra’s home in Virginia, Charles smiled at the success of his little mission, which was no more than a blip on his computer screen. He did a double take when he read Jack’s incoming text. He swore then, something he rarely, if ever, did. For all intents and purposes, Harry Wong was destined to work with sleepers. With nothing more pressing on his agenda, he made his way out of the catacombs to the main floor of the old farmhouse, where Myra and Annie were having coffee in the kitchen. Both women clapped their hands in approval when Charles reported the success, then the downfall of the mini-mission. “Harry is going to have to make it on his own, I’m afraid to say. There’s nothing more I can do.”
“Sometimes, dear, the best-laid plans simply don’t work. It’s a culture you cannot be expected to understand. You did your best. Come, join us for coffee, Charles. Annie and I are planning her Thanksgiving menu. Is there anything in particular you would like? This year, dear, you will just be a guest and not have to worry about getting everything hot to the table at one time.”
“Plum pudding is a must. I can make it if you like. One has to make it just right, or it turns out to be just another pudding. I have my mum’s recipe.”
“That would be wonderful, as I’ve