Flying Circus - 1. The Kid - Part I

Sunday, 2 May 2027
Barcelona

“UNCLE RITCH!” Liebe’s greeting was echoed, in various ways and at a much lower volume, by everyone in the spacious living room.

The family, except for the U.S. Air Force First Lieutenant, had flown into Barcelona the previous day. Stationed at Aviano Air Base in Northern Italy, as part of a NATO fighter wing, Ritch arrived in Spain on Sunday morning.

Brett exploded out of his seat, took two long strides, and did not give the young man a chance to say a word before wrapping him in a bone-crunching embrace. “It’s good to see you, Lieutenant.” Brett Davenport, one of the men Ritch called father—for having raised him after his biological parents died—had served in the Marine Corps.

“You too, Captain.” He may have been talking to his father, but his gaze focused on the woman sitting on one end of the couch. “Hi, Lucy.” Lucy Wilkinson had been Ritch Peterson’s girlfriend all through high school. They had broken up their senior year but reconnected and had been together since their final year in college.

Ritch’s attempt to move closer to his girlfriend was impeded by Liebe replacing her grandfather and hugging the new arrival around the waist. “I miss you all the time.” She squeezed the man a little tighter and rested the side of her face against his abdomen.

Tall for her age, Elizabeth Liston Abelló was still over a foot-and-a-half shorter. Ritch dropped his backpack and squatted in front of her. “I’ve missed you too, kiddo. Happy belated birthday. Those are pretty earrings.”

The girl reached up and touched one of the cream-colored pearls. “They were a birthday present from Aunt Lucy. I like them a lot. And the Dads had to let me get my ears pierced since the Grands also gave me a pair.”

CJ shrugged when his brother glanced at him. “We were waiting for her to ask. I don’t like it when parents mutilate their kids as toddlers.”

“Mutilate? That’s a bit harsh, bro.”

“Whatever… But now we have a problem because the boys want earrings too.”

“I know what I’m getting those two for Christmas.” Ritch’s lopsided grin made his brother roll his eyes. He returned his attention to the girl. “Did you get what I sent you?”

CJ was ready to complain again. “And that present forced us to get her a phone before we were ready to. Thanks a lot.”

“First-world problem. Suck it up.” Ritch’s comment earned him a middle finger.

Liebe was unfazed by the banter between her father and uncle. She took a step back and reached for a black case sitting on a side table. “I loved it! They’ve been charging since last night ’cause I used them a lot yesterday.” She opened the case to reveal smart sunglasses from a high-end Italian fashion house. Putting them on, she struck a pose. “I wear them all the time. Except I won’t be able to during soccer practice because they don’t allow it.” She had celebrated her seventh birthday ten days before and raved when handed the gift Ritch had sent.

Their conversation was interrupted by two shirtless, blond tykes running around the room, arms extended, making noises reminiscent of an aircraft. “Look, Uncle Ritch. I’m flying like you!”

“Me too! Me too!” The second boy forced his way between his uncle and his sister, while the other one attached himself to Ritch’s back.

Although Liebe’s tresses had darkened a bit as she grew older, the boys retained the straw-colored hair; so pale it appeared silver when the light caught it the right way. Theirs would sooner or later darken too. Jefferson and Roosevelt Liston Abelló did not see their uncle in person often, but video calls were frequent. Their fathers had expressed their desire for the boys to be close to the Air Force man even though he was currently stationed abroad.

“Hi, Uncle Ritch.” The back-clinging boy made it difficult for Ritch to stand. “Did you bring us a present?”

“What’d you bring us, Uncle Ritch? Huh?”

“Jefferson! Roosevelt! Is that any way to greet your uncle? Asking him for presents?” Owen Liston did not often use his sons’ first names over their nicknames. When either he or CJ did, the boys knew they had done something wrong.

“Soorryyy…” The response from the kids was simultaneous but sounded insincere. They were troublemakers.

“It’s okay, Ozzie.” Ritch winked at his brother-in-law and reached for the backpack he had dropped on arrival. Although his niece and nephews held part of his attention, he constantly looked, smiled, and winked Lucy’s way. “Hi, Jeffer. Hi, Roo. I did bring you something.” Ritch opened the bag, reached inside, and retrieved a crumpled piece of plastic. “It’s a rugby ball in Italian flag colors. We’ll need to find a way to put air in it.”

“I can do that for you, señor.” The middle-aged man, dressed in a black hotel uniform, smiled and held his hand out. “If you give me a few minutes, I’ll bring it back inflated.”

“Thank you.” Ritch handed the ball over and shot his fathers a questioning look.

Once the man was out the door, César hugged his youngest. “That’s Aitor. He’s the butler. Comes with the suite. It’s great to see you, buddy.”

“Why did they give me two cards downstairs? And how come I have a room on another floor? When you guys said you had a large suite, I figured there would be enough rooms for all of us.”

“Sorry, kiddo. It’s big, but it only has one bedroom. One of those’s for your room; you and Lucy are on the same floor as CJ, Owen, and the kids. We asked them to give you one for our suite too, since we’re using it as command central.” César waved a hand in the direction of the dining area. “Aitor was clearing our brunch mess. Still plenty of food left. You hungry?”

“I am. But can I say hello to my girlfriend first?” Ritch took a couple of steps, reaching Lucy as she stood. The two wrapped their arms around each other, and Ritch did not appear capable of disengaging. Lucy leaned her head back, flashed bright teeth, and quickly covered them with her lips as she mashed them against Ritch’s. Probably because they had an audience, they did not hold the kiss for long. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

“So have I.” Lucy used a finger to wipe away lipstick from Ritch’s upper lip. “But we have two weeks together ahead of us. Want me to fix you a plate?”

“Nah, I can do it. But come with me?” Ritch leaned a bit and offered his brother a fist. “What up, bro? Nice shirt. Do they make it for men?” He repeated the bump with Owen.

“You want one?” Owen pointed at CJ’s pink polo shirt. “We brought extras with us.”

“What the hell for?” Ritch was already piling a plate with scrambled eggs, fruit, bacon, chorizo, and a couple of croissants. “Can you get me some coffee?” Lucy nodded while Ritch poured juice. Walking back to the main area, he placed his plate on the coffee table and sat next to his girlfriend.

“They’re collectors’ items. Goodwill presents. For whomever.” CJ pinched the shirt around his left pec and stretched the fabric away from his chest. “Did you see the embroidery?”

Leaning closer to his brother, Ritch ran a finger over the logo and smiled. “Cherry blossoms?”

The design consisted of a tree branch with two flowers—one bloom white, the other pink. Above, Cherry Blossom Festival curved 270 degrees around the image. The circle was completed with Washington, D.C. 2027 underneath.

“You got it! From this year’s festivities. I’m taking half a dozen with me, and Ozzie’s gonna carry the rest to Australia. You need one, bro. The rest of us have them. Even Lucy got one.”

“I have something for you too, Uncle Ritch.” Liebe walked through the glass doors to the terrace overlooking the city. Moments later, she returned carrying a slim book. “Grandpa A was reading it to the twins earlier. Carlos, Ozzie, and I all signed it for you.”

After Liebe was born, Owen made up stories to tell her at bedtime. They all followed a girl with the same name who lived in the Florida Keys with her two fathers. Their South Florida friend, Carlos Hazday—a fellow biker and author wannabe—had recorded, transcribed, and edited a few of them. A new illustrated story was being published each year on the twenty-second of April to celebrate Liebe’s birthday and Earth Day.

“Manatee Madness? Guess I have something to read tonight. Thanks, Liebe. Come here and give me a kiss.”

The twins giggled.

“What was that for?” Ritch snuggled a little closer to Lucy while digging into his food. “This is good. I slept through the flight’s breakfast service. I’m starving.” He nodded at the twins. “So, why the giggles?”

“Because you kissed Liebe funny.”

“Yeah, you both stuck your lips waaay out. Like when we kiss a puppy.”

“But you kiss Lucy like the Dads and the Grands do.”

“You stuck your tongue in her mouth.”

The fork made it midway between the plate and Ritch’s mouth. At that point, he raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth until it gaped, before raising a hand to cover it. The fork clattered onto the plate.

The kids’ fathers and grandfathers looked on, visibly struggling to maintain neutral expressions.

Lucy lost it. She pushed Ritch away and laughed. “Sorry… I’m sorry… You look so shocked! See what you miss by living in Italy? I’m getting used to their antics.”

Both boys rushed to her side and hugged her. “We love you, Aunt Lucy.” The comment was uttered simultaneously before they returned their attention to the Air Force officer. “Uncle Ritch, will you go in the hot tub with us?” During their most recent phone call, Ritch had told them one of his goals during the week was to tell them apart. One kid pointed at the spa on the terrace. “The Dads and the Grands won’t let us go out on the balcony alone.”

“Tell him why.” Brett did not wait. “They tried to climb the glass railing when we first got to the room. And considering how high up we are…”

Ritch shook his head. “Maybe a little later, guys? Let me finish eating first.” At that moment, Aitor, the butler, returned with a properly inflated ball, and the boys were immediately distracted.

“You can scrum and carry it, but no throwing or kicking.” CJ’s tone, devoid of humor, was easily recognized as his authoritative voice. Everyone had heard it at one point or another. “Grandpa Cap would get upset if you broke something,”

“Hey! Don’t be making me out to be the bad grandfather. That’s César’s job.” Brett’s complaining elicited a one-finger response from his husband. “At least you picked one of their two favorite sports.”

Ritch winked at his father. “I also brought a soccer one. But considering the shorts they’re wearing…”

Nearly a decade before, CJ and Owen had been invited to invest in Washington’s Old Glory. As minority owners of the city’s United States Major League Rugby franchise, they often attended games with their brood in tow. The three kids enjoyed the outings, with the twins becoming diehard fans. The red, white, and blue shorts Ritch referred to had the team’s logo embroidered on the edge of the left leg.

“You know they actually complained about leaving town on vacation?” Owen stood and retrieved a mug from the end table. “Anyone else want coffee?” Brett raised his empty one. “They were upset about missing matches. Let’s hope this ball keeps them from constantly trying to steal the signed ones when we return home.”

The players autographed balls each season and presented them to staff, owners, and selected supporters. CJ and Owen exhibited one at home, inside a clear acrylic case, from the 2026 team—the year Old Glory won the league championship. It was part of the memorabilia accumulated over time and displayed in their study. Lack of space kept the others deflated and stored in a cabinet.

“At least they didn’t throw a tantrum like when they found out” —CJ lowered his voice— “Raish wasn’t coming on the trip.” CJ’s cousin, Rod Abelló, and his wife, Taisha, welcomed their son into the world a month after the boys were born. Since they lived next to each other, Raishod, Jefferson, and Roosevelt spent more time together than apart. “It’s like we have triplets instead of twins.”

“I guess they got over it?”

“Barely. Since we’re going to Australia after, I video-called my brother so the boys could talk to their Aussie cousins.” A month after Raishod’s birth, Owen’s sister-in-law had given birth to Zachary Marcus Liston. A year later, Tilda and Spencer had grown their family when Marlee Elizabeth Liston was born. “They finally calmed down when they figured out all six of them would be together in D.C. later this summer.”

“Eight,” CJ corrected his husband. “Don’t forget we agreed to take Carolina and Fabricio with us to Disney World.” Carolina Prado was Cristina Pereira’s daughter, and Fabricio was Thiago Baravento’s son. The adults were close family friends.

“I still say you guys are nuts. Eight kids at an amusement park? Shoot me now, please.” Brett held an index finger to his temple and pulled an imaginary trigger.

Liebe giggled. “You’re funny, Grandpa Cap.”

“And you’re getting old if a few rugrats scare you, Grandpa Cap. This chorizo’s incredible. Can we take some on the boat with us?” Ritch stuffed his mouth again, rolling his eyes in approval of the food.

“You eat a lot, Uncle Ritch.” Liebe had taken the spot next to her uncle on the couch. “You’re gonna get fat.”

Ritch sipped from his tomato juice and swallowed. “I don’t think so, kiddo. I run every morning, spend a lot of time in the gym, and I’ve been skiing almost every weekend too. I don’t want to get flabby like your dads.”

“Hey! Who you calling flabby?”

Liebe giggled again when CJ raised a fist at her uncle.

“You and Ozzie are on the way to dad bods. New ink?” Ritch nodded at CJ’s right biceps.

“It’s Washington’s flag!” Liebe was proud she could explain it to her uncle. “See? It has the two red stripes.” At that point, she was next to her father, grasping his arm and lifting it. CJ smiled while he was posed as a mannequin. “They go all around.” The close-together, dual bands were reminiscent of tribal tattoos popular a couple of decades before. “And it has the three stars on top of them in the front.”

Ritch nodded his approval. “Are you gonna get one like it? It looks cool.”

“The Dads won’t let me get one until I go to college.”

“The Dads? I still can’t get used to that.” Ritch glanced at César and Brett. “You’re the Dads in my book. It’s weird calling you the Grands.”

Liebe pointed at CJ and Owen. “They do. All the time.”

“Well, college will come around soon enough.” Ritch smiled at the disappointed-looking girl. “Speaking of schools, how are you done so early? Classes should still be going on.” The previous fall, at the age of six, Liebe had started first grade at Watkins Elementary School, located a ten-minute walk from their house.

Liebe sank a little deeper into the couch. “I’m not allowed to go back.”

“Why?”

“I was suspended, and the Dads got upset with the principal, and Oz screamed at her, and Ceej called her a butthole, and the Dads called a lawyer, and I’m going to a new school next year.” Somehow, Liebe managed to say it all without taking a breath.

“No shit?” Ritch looked from his niece to her fathers. “What happened?”

“Let Liebe tell you. Her version’s better. OUCH!” Brett recoiled when César slapped the back of his head. Roosevelt and Jefferson had tired of playing by themselves and were ensconced on their fathers’ laps. Both giggled.

“Stop glorifying it, Jarhead. Getting suspended from school shouldn’t be something to brag about.”

“Says you.”

Ignoring the grandfathers, Ritch put an arm around the girl and pulled her closer. “So, what did they get you for?”

“Fighting…”

“Really? Did you and another girl have an argument?”

“No… It was a boy.”

Ritch looked around the room, but help was not forthcoming. “Okay. Tell me what happened.”

“Well, there was this one kid in my grade who was really large” —she stuck her arms out and arced them around her body, mimicking someone overweight— “and some people were mean to him a lot.”

“Mean how?” Ritch chugged the remainder of his juice and raised the glass in Lucy’s direction with a pleading expression. She smiled and nodded, but before she could do anything, Aitor intervened.

“I’ll get that for you, señor.”

Liebe was oblivious to what else went on around her. “They called him fatso and a bunch of other nasty names.”

“And you got into a fight with him?”

“No! Don’t be silly. I was always nice to him. He’s my friend.”

“So, who did you get into a fight with?”

“Well, there was this other boy. He was bigger than us because he was in second grade. And he was always mean to my friend. So, one day, the older kid did it in front of me, and I screamed at him to stop.”

“And they suspended you for that?”

Liebe shook her head. “He got upset with me and threw a punch. He was dumb. He looked real angry, and I could tell what he was gonna do.”

Ritch had stopped eating. His attention focused entirely on his niece. “Come on! Stop dragging it out. You’re as bad as your father when he tells a story.”

“HEY! I resemble that remark.”

“I wasn’t gonna let him hit me, so I ducked and kicked him in the nuts.”

Every adult male in the room squeezed their thighs together.

“I’m guessing he missed.”

“Of course he missed.” Liebe thought that would have been obvious. “But I didn’t. And then, when he went to grab his junk, he lost his balance, fell on the floor, hit his head, and started bleeding.”

It was impossible to miss Ritch’s shock. He stared at his brother. “Bro?”

“Superficial cut. Band-Aid solved it.”

“And they suspended her? But she was defending herself.”

Brett started clapping. “Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner. Even a dumb flyboy gets it.”

“Screw you, Cap.” Ritch returned his attention to CJ. “There has to be more to this.”

“There is.” CJ grinned. “The principal, Ozzie, and the bully’s parents sued me.”

Done eating, Ritch placed the plate back on the coffee table and stood. “I need a minute. And since I’m on leave, a cocktail. Where’s the booze?”

Everyone pointed at the table where Cava bottles rested in ice buckets.

“I always knew our family was different, but this is a new one. Why’s everyone suing you?”

“Because I’m the city’s mayor, and I’m in charge of public schools. I get to appoint the chancellor.”

Ritch returned to the couch, sat as close as possible to Lucy, and draped an arm over her shoulders. With a hand, he motioned for Liebe to scoot over on his other side. “Let’s start with the principal.”

“When they called, asking me to pick Liebe up and letting me know why, I lost it. I knew she would never attack somebody unless provoked. She’s learned that at the dojo, and Ozzie and I reinforce it all the time. The entire thing was caught on security cameras, and they showed me the tape when I got to the school. Liebe didn’t lie. The kid threw a punch, and she defended herself. But the policy’s if there’s a fight, everyone gets suspended.”

“Let me guess; you lost it.”

CJ nodded. “I went apeshit on the principal. She had it coming, though. That school had been on my watch list since before I was elected. I figured with Liebe going there, her being our daughter would prevent more disruptions.”

“What kind of disruptions?”

“This is what you miss for not being around, Ritch.” Owen grinned when his brother-in-law flashed a middle finger. “Last year, a third-grade class was tasked with reenacting portions of the Holocaust. They had to simulate digging mass graves for their classmates, shooting victims, riding on a train to a concentration camp, and then dying in a gas chamber. One kid had to impersonate Hitler and pretend to commit suicide. When some students asked why the Germans did all those bad things, they were told it was ‘because the Jews ruined Christmas.’”

Ritch looked shocked. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Nope. When I read about it, I knew I had to speak up. It led to my campaign speech decrying antisemitism and supporting Israel’s right to exist.”

“That couldn’t have been controversial. And anyway, aren’t third graders a little too young to hear about the Holocaust?”

“I know about it, and I’m in first grade.” Liebe thought her uncle did not believe her. “The Dads explained it, and the twins and I were at the big speech CJ gave. Bad soldiers killed Jewish people because, even though they all prayed to the same god, the Jews did it differently.”

The expressions on Ritch’s face seemed to change with every comment. The latest one was incredulity. “Bro?”

Owen jumped in at that point. “Age-appropriate explanations, Ritch. Liebe and the twins know some things will be easier to understand when they’re older, and we promised to describe them in more detail in a few years.”

“By the way, bro, your comment shows how little you know about politics. Considering I was deemed a fringe candidate when I announced, my rise in popularity scared a lot of the political establishment. The Palestinian community trashed me for such strong support of a colonial power. Muslim members of Congress rushed to endorse the left-wing candidate in the race, and the Jewish community showed their appreciation by pouring millions of dollars into my campaign accounts.”

“Figures if there was a controversy, you’d end up in the middle of it and come out smelling like roses.”

“Yeah, well, while going off on the principal, I may or may not have said some things that were mistakenly interpreted as threats.”

Ritch raised an eyebrow.

“Not physical! It concerned her job, which was plain stupid of me.”

“So, what’s gonna happen?”

“We’re negotiating a settlement. I’m losing that one.”

Owen chose that moment to reinsert himself in the conversation. “Don’t ask for details. He won’t even tell me about the offer the city made.” Owen sighed. “He used to tell me everything, but now…”

“So, she sued CJ as mayor but not individually?”

“You’re smart, brolaw.” Owen had adopted the contraction Ritch, and his fellow cadets had used while at the Air Force Academy. “If I was involved, I’d make sure the settlement bans any future employment by the District or its schools. But that’s my opinion. The way government works, the principal could come back and litigate again.”

“Okay. Why are you suing him?” Ritch directed the question at Owen.

“Because he’s the city’s mayor, he’s in charge of public schools, and he hires the chancellor.” Owen’s grin made Ritch shake his head. “I want the policy changed, and the chain of command forced me to sue everyone.”

“Isn’t that a problem? Like a conflict of interest thing? What with the two of you being married?”

“We’re working on that.”

“What about the bully’s parents?”

“They claimed Liebe injured their son’s reproductive system. They sued both Ceej and me for nurturing her violent behavior.”

“That’s a crock of shit!” Surprisingly, Ritch was not chastised for using four-letter words by any of the kids. However, each time he did, they would cover their mouths or openly giggle.

“A judge used similar language and dismissed their complaint.” CJ’s grin was malevolent. “But he allowed our countersuit, claiming exactly the same thing, to proceed. They raised their son to bully others. We’re gonna take them to the cleaners to teach them a lesson.”

Ritch threw his head back and laughed. “You’re still a vindictive bastard, bro. It’s not like you need the money.”

“Nope. But even the judge mentioned the only reason they went after us was because of our wealth since the evidence clearly showed their son was the aggressor. He called Liebe’s kick self-defense.”

“You gonna leave them penniless and homeless?”

Owen shook his head. “That won’t happen. Since they went after us personally, I’m the lead in our countersuit. I want it to hurt but not leave them destitute. If we win”—Owen did not appear certain they would—“we’ll donate any money we get to an anti-bullying organization.”

“You sound more like CJ all the time.”

Owen again shook his head. “Your brother and I disagree frequently. I’m much more progressive in my politics than he is. But if I’ve learned one thing, it's that CJ has a good heart. Even when he’s being a jerk, he rarely follows through on his threats to stomp on people while they’re down. He does get a little overprotective of the kids at times, though.” Owen’s gentle rebuke led to CJ sticking his tongue out at him.

“So, you never finished first grade?” Ritch side-hugged his niece a little closer.

“I did finish! The Dads found a teacher to come to the house for classes.”

Owen elaborated on her comment. “We decided to home-school her for the remainder of the academic year. We hired this guy, Parker Owens, and they completed all requirements for her to move on to second grade next school year.”

“Where are you going next year?”

“Your school.”

Ritch looked surprised. “Sidwell?” His gaze shifted to his brother. “I thought you didn’t want her going to private school. Particularly a church-associated one.”

The sigh broadcast CJ’s frustration. “I didn’t, and I don’t. But we don’t have much of a choice. Any public school, even charter ones, are off the table until all the legal stuff gets resolved.”

“Do they know why she’s transferring? Sidwell?”

“Of course they do. I was the one who talked to the administration.” Owen slid the boy on his lap to the ground. “Gotta go pee. Anyway, Ritch, they’re aware of what happened and promised their policies aren’t as draconian.”

“Uhhh, draconian. Quarter word. Be realistic, Ozzie, of course they’re going to say that. I mean, the niece of an alum, the daughter of the city’s mayor, and the granddaughter of the men who funded several scholarships at the school? I’m sure they were jumping for joy. It helps maintain their reputation as the school to attend if your folks are anybody in Washington.”