Author: Scribe
Title: Kindergarten Cop
Email: poet77665@catlover.com
Disclaimer: I did not create, and do not own, the recognizable characters of
either The Sentinel, or Kindergarten Cop. I have not made, do not seek, and
will not accept any profit from this fiction. The story is not meant to reflect
in any way on the real lifestyles of the the actors/actresses involved in the
show, and I have nothing but affection and respect for them.
Summary: The Kincaids are no longer a threat, and Blair and Joshua have stopped
running--and maybe Jim has, too.
Acknowledgments:
Notes: DNA testing for paternity was only just getting started in the 1980s.
Websites: http://www.scribescribbles.com

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Kindergarten Cop, 19/19
by Scribe

Nineteen

Epilogue

Three Days Later

Blair Sandburg's class of third graders was upset when he wasn't in the day
after the fire. There were a lot of frightening rumors about what had happened
inside the school, and the first newspaper accounts hadn't done much to clear
things up.

The second day Blair had made a brief appearance to let his students see that he
was all right, and to explain to them that he might be absent for a while--he
wasn't sure how long. He was going to be very busy working with the police, and
there was a good friend who was sick in the hospital.

Relieved that their teacher had not been harmed, the third graders were able to
go back to their normal routines. Things didn't go so smoothly for the
kindergarteners.

Mrs. Hagley couldn't come back to her position. When she was given the paid
leave of absence, she'd treated herself to a trip to Las Vegas. There she'd met
the man who was soon to be her second husband. They'd been married in a quiet
ceremony. The Elvis impersonator had worn a minimum of rhinestones. Miss
Witherspoon, a teacher's aide in the fourth grade, had been called on to fill
the gap.

Joshua Sandburg came back to class the second day, and was greeted with relieved
enthusiasm by his friends. They soon stopped questioning him about what had
happened when he told them that he couldn't talk about what had happened 'cause
the police said not to, 'cause the bad guy's lawyer might use it.' He wasn't
sure how, but if the police said so... His friends understood that, and didn't
pester him. They were just glad to see him back.

Miss Witherspoon had been nervous about working with such young children, but
had been surprised at how well behaved and quiet they were. //Too quiet,// she
thought, watching them work. Even Sid, weaving his way across the table,
supervising, couldn't raise smiles. //It's not natural for children that age to
be so subdued.//

Principal Schlauskill came in, and Miss Witherspoon went to her. "How are
they?" the older woman asked.

"All right, but awful subdued. I know that they had a nasty experience, but the
therapists had a good talk with them. I guess it just takes time."

The principal nodded. "Yes, but I have something I think will do them more good
than the therapists." She clapped her hands. All the students stopped what
they were doing and looked toward her questioningly. "Children, Miss
Witherspoon tells me that you've been rather sad lately."

Benjamin said glumly, "Mister Ellison died."

"Benjamin, has your mother set an appointment with that family therapist that
the councilor recommended?" The boy nodded. "Good. Remember, we told all of
you that Mister Ellison was hurt, but he did //not// die. Now, you have a
visitor, and I think that you'll be very glad to see him." She opened the door.

Jim Ellison, right arm in a sling, came into the room, giving the children a
smile that was almost shy. "Hello, kids."

The reaction was immediate. Jim was charged by two-dozen squealing, giggling,
shouting children. They swarmed around him, hugging every part of him that they
could reach. Jim laughed, returning the hugs, one-armed. Benjamin clung the
tightest, saying over and over, "You're *not* dead! You're *not* dead!"

Jim tousled Benjamin's hair. "No, I'm not." He raised his voice to speak to
all of them. "I didn't want you children to worry about me. I would have come
sooner, but they just let me out of the hospital this morning."

Joshua, clinging to Jim's free hand, nodded vigorously. "Blair sat with him all
the time. Miss Conner stayed with me, and I couldn't go visit because I'm too
little, and there are stupid damn rules."

"Joshua!" said Blair.

"That's what //you// said. I sent him the get well card we all signed, and some
flowers, and a box of candy." He looked up at Jim. "Did you eat all of it? I
can help, if you didn't."

Jim laughed. "I saved you the truffles." He paused, looking at each one,
remembering little incidents from his period of teaching. Before he'd come to
Astoria, children had been more or less the same to him. He'd have willingly
died protecting them, but they were faceless to him. Now...

Sad, morose Benjamin. Sylvester the Peeker. Samantha, who could do the
'Crossed Knees Potty Waltz' and still look graceful. Matthew, whose lisp had
improved even in the short time Jim had known him. And Joshua. Smart, brave,
sassy, funny Joshua--so much like his big brother. Each of them were unique,
and now they were precious to Jim.

"I missed you guys."

"Are you going away now?" It was Benjamin who asked, and Jim counted it as a
triumph that he didn't ask if Jim were going to die.

"Kids, when I came here, I thought I was just going to teach for a few weeks,
then go back to my old job. I'm a policeman, you know." They nodded. They'd
all thought that for a policeman, Mister Ellison was a pretty good teacher.
"Well," he touched his injured shoulder. "you know that I got hurt. I'm going
to get better, but it's going to take a long time, and I'm not sure if I can be
a policeman again. Policemen have to be strong and fast to fight the bad guys,
and my arm may not ever be as strong as it was. What if I was fighting a bad
guy, and it wouldn't work right?"

"He might get away," said someone.

"He might hurt you again," said someone else.

"Worse than that," said Jim, "he might hurt someone else, and I wouldn't be able
to stop him. I can't let that happen. So, maybe I'll be a policeman again,
maybe I won't. I'll just have to see. But in the meantime, there's one thing I
//can// do, if it's all right with you guys. I've talked to Principal
Schlauskill," he exchanged a smile with the woman, "and she says that if it's
all right with you guys, I can be your teacher again."

"What do you say, children?" asked the principal. "Would you like Mister
Ellison to be your teacher again?"

Miss Witherspoon was treated to the spectacle of the entire kindergarten class
celebrating in just about every way it was possible for a six year old to
celebrate. They jumped, they clapped, they squealed, they laughed, they hugged.
Several of them got together and managed to do The Wave.

In the midst of the chaos, Jim Ellison stood like a tower of serenity, a
slightly silly smile on his face, his arm around Joshua Sandburg. When he
turned a little and gave Blair Sandburg a quick, one-armed hug, the cheers only
got louder.

So did the giggles.

Grown ups were so silly sometimes.

The End