THE TAINTED TRUST (Volume 2 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 11

 Toronto. August 15, 1980.

Rain drenched Mike and Karen's plane as it touched down at Toronto's Pearson International Airport at two in the afternoon. Following the usual agonizing and prolonged delay, the result of too many travellers and too few officers, they cleared customs and took a taxi to Karen's penthouse apartment on Avenue Road.

Martha Perkins, Phillip's aging and overweight nanny, rushed to greet them when she heard the front doors open and the sound of their happy voices. Her gray work dress complemented her swept back gray hair which ended in a tight bun. "Welcome back, you two," she said with a gigantic and wrinkled smile. "How was the honeymoon?"

Karen, happy to be home and to see the woman who had stayed with her through extremely difficult times, dropped her bags and hugged her. "Fabulous! Just fabulous! How are you, Martha?"

Martha closed her eyes and exhaled. "A bit frazzled, but I survived."

Karen frowned and took a step backward. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything except Phillip...He's been a big problem. Ever since you brought him home from Venezuela, he's been different. He's not the same happy boy I remembered. He's become very difficult to control. He used to do everything I asked without question. Now he refuses do just about everything."

Mike turned to Karen. "Have you ever been away from him for this length of time?" he asked.

Karen shook her head. "This is the first."

"It could be that he misses the attention you've been giving him," Mike suggested.

Karen hoped Mike was right, but deep in her heart she knew the problem was probably much more complex. "I feel guilty about leaving him, but I'm worried that it's related to Venezuela. I think the whole thing has finally caught up with him. I can't imagine what damage that experience must have done to him."

Mike turned to Martha. "Is there anything else we should know?"

Martha stared at Mike with a pained expression. "He's been stealing, taking money from my purse. I haven't confronted him about it yet, because I thought it would be better if I waited to talk to you first."

Karen reached for Mike's hand. "We've got to talk to him. This is serious."

Martha picked up Phillip at Royal Canada College, less than a mile away, and returned to the apartment forty-five minutes later. His face, still rounded by baby fat, showed hints of the chiseled features of his late father. Instead of smiling and running to hug his mother as he had done so many times in the past, he stood and glared at Mike and Karen with what appeared to be anger in his large gray eyes.

Karen ran to hug him. "I missed you so much," she said.

Phillip remained motionless, his arms passively limp.

Karen pulled backward to probe his eyes. "Did you miss me?"

Phillip gave his mother a vapid stare, then looked away. "I guess," he said.

"Something's bothering you," Karen accused. "What is it?"

"Nothing's bothering me," Phillip hissed, then bolted from her arms and ran in the direction of his room.

Karen began to follow, but Mike stopped her. "Don't go. He expects you to do that. Give him some time to cool."

"But I missed him so much," Karen protested.

"If you rush in there right now, you'll just reinforce his negative demand for attention. Wait for ten or fifteen minutes. Give him some time to think about it."

Karen waited for ten anxious minutes, then hurried to Phillip's room. She found him lying on his bed, pretending to read a Superman comic book. "Let's talk," she said, slowly removing the book from his hands. "It's pretty difficult to do it through a book."

His eyes, unblinking and appearing mesmerized, continued to stare at the space previously occupied by the book. His expression displayed unconsolable depression, one Karen had never seen.

"Something's bothering you, son. I want to know what it is," Karen demanded.

Phillip wiped his eyes with the back of his right hand then slowly focused on his mother. "Why did you tell the newspapers about dad?" he asked.

"I didn't tell the newspapers anything," Karen replied, shocked by his question. "What ever gave you the idea I did?"

"Now all my friends know about dad and everything he did."

Karen's worst fears had suddenly been realized. She kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry the newspapers published the story. If I could have stopped them, I would. You must understand that we wanted more than anything to keep the whole story a secret."

"If you didn't tell them, who did?"

"I have no idea...What have your friends said about it."

Phillip's eyes resumed their unblinking stare. "They keep saying my father was a crook. I hate them."

Karen wrapped her arms behind her son's back and hugged him. She closed her eyes and prayed he would soon forget his father and the ugliness of the incident in Caracas, but worried that the experience had engraved a permanent psychological scar in his memory. She hoped the theft of Martha's money was merely a manifestation of his frustration. "You have to be stronger than them. They're just silly little boys who don't have enough sense to understand that you should never be punished for the sins of your father." She remained with him for more than an hour in an effort to give him the feeling of security and assurance she knew he needed.

She returned to the living room and found Mike reading a newspaper on the couch. "I know what's bothering him," she said, then waited until Mike put the newspaper down. "We have a major problem and it isn't going to go away soon. The story of his father appeared in the newspapers. He assumed we leaked it."

Mike frowned and shook his head. "We should have anticipated it. I don't blame the kid a bit."

"I haven't the slightest idea how to handle it. What are we going to do?"

"I have a suggestion."

"What?"

"If you and I are going to have a family, Phillip should be should be part it. I would like to adopt him."

"That's a wonderful suggestion," Karen declared with a grateful smile. "I can't imagine a better one." She sat beside him and hugged. "Each day I know you, the more I love you."

"I'm not finished."

"Then keep going, King. You're on a roll."

"A whole new environment might improve his attitude. I think we should send him to a boarding school."