Date: Tue, 09 May 2006 01:48:29 -0700
From: fritz@nehalemtel.net
Subject: I Love Corey, Chapter Eighty
Since I really see no way around it, here is another warning and
disclaimer. I do regret wasting so many perfectly good words in them, but
I use cheap words when I write so the cost is negligible and not really a
problem.
For all you poor underage readers out there, cheer up. One of
these days you will be old enough to read this story without being in
violation of the laws designed to protect you from me. While there may be
a few of you who don't think you need such protection, take my word for it,
if you truly knew me you would soon realize you do. I'm an arrogant
opinionated old coot, and no young person should be forced to associate
with me. After all, such a condition may be contagious and you certainly
don't want to become arrogant and opinionated like I am. Besides, if you
just wait a few years you will become that way without any help from me.
I'll warn you though, reading this story may accelerate that process and
surely you wouldn't want that to happen.
Since there are those of you who get all upset at the descriptions
of gay sex which sometimes appear in this story, the problem becomes one of
what to do about you. As I see it, why should I do anything about it? If
you are bound and determined to read stories which upset you, why should I
deprive you of such a sick pleasure? On the other hand, if you truly don't
know that such things exist in this and other stories on this site, leave
now before you encounter them. Otherwise, just go ahead and scream and
froth at the mouth over such descriptions. I'm quite hard of hearing and
will totally ignore you.
Should you be among the unfortunate people who live in an area
banning the reading of this and similar stories, you can leave this site or
move. Moving is by far the better option. That way you will be free to
explore whatever reading material you wish without Big Brother looking over
your shoulder. If moving is not an option, then be exceedingly careful and
don't allow anyone to discover you reading this or other stories on this
site.
I was sitting around with too much free time on my hands and made
the whole story up. None of the characters are real, and those unreal
persons never did the things the story has them doing. You should look
upon this story as somewhat akin to a fairy tale, something that never took
place. While it is undoubtedly boring enough to put little kids to sleep,
I would think you could probably find more appropriate stories for that
purpose. This is not to say you can't use this story for that purpose,
only that I question if you can stay awake long enough while reading it to
get the little ones to fall asleep. Double points if you got the joke.
You lose points if you have to write and ask what the joke was.
Please be kind and do not claim any of this story as your own. I'm
getting old and crotchety, and don't take kindly to such things. Should
you do such a thing it will upset me and cause me to haunt you and give you
bad dreams. Surely you don't want me haunting you for the rest of your
life.
Again my thanks go to Don for his efforts in editing. His help and
encouragement make it so much easier to write.
Complaints should be sent to fritz@nehalemtel.net As far as that
goes, you can also send questions, comments, or suggestions to the same
address. I try to answer all of them. Be sure to put "I Love Corey" in
the subject line so I don't delete you. Deleting seems so final. Now that
all the garbage is out of the way, I hope you enjoy the following chapter.
Fritz
********************************************************************************
I Love Corey, Chapter Eighty
To say the situation was a little awkward doesn't begin to explain
just how difficult it was. Mrs. Graves had obviously calmed down some, and
perhaps even thought things over, but she didn't know quite what to say.
I'd been worrying about any problems she might be able to cause so I hadn't
really thought of what I might say either. So we stood there, warily
eyeing each other while poor Danny just looked miserable. The whole
situation was a mess and I wasn't sure just where to go from here.
"Uhmm, could we get our things?" Kath asked in a slightly tentative
voice.
"Of course," I replied, trying to keep my voice as neutral as
possible.
"Go get your clothes Danny," Mrs. Graves told him in a somewhat
strained voice.
Danny started for the stairs to the basement, then stopped and
looked up at me. His face was a picture of anguish and I could see the
tears trying to leak out. It was like he was praying for me to do or say
something and I wasn't sure where to start. Then it was like someone
turned a switch and his head dropped, along with his shoulders. He
suddenly looked much smaller and younger as he turned back towards the
stairs which led to the basement. He reminded me of a puppy which had been
kicked, although I have no idea where that image came from since I'd never
seen a puppy kicked unless it was in a cartoon or something. Yet somehow
that image just seemed right.
"Danny," I called softly, "Why don't you wait a minute while your
mother and I talk. There's some pop in the fridge."
"No thank you," he sort of mumbled as he kept slowly shuffling
towards the stairs, a picture of total dejection. I turned to Mrs. Graves.
"Could I talk to you a minute? I owe you an apology and I'd like
an opportunity to make it," I asked her, nodding towards the office.
At first I thought she was going to refuse, but after a few seconds
she headed for my office. My mind was whirling around, trying to think of
just what to say. The worst part was that I didn't really feel I owed her
an apology, more like she owed me one, but one look at Danny and I knew I
had to try something. I'd been so proud of the boys for bringing out the
happy Danny, and now that happy Danny was gone. He needed my best effort
at solving this, but the problem was I still didn't know quite where to
begin. As I was racking my brain, no new thoughts occurred and so I was
left with only the thought of apologizing for exposing Danny to firearms
without first asking her. I didn't know if that would help, but I knew of
nothing else I could do. When we were in my office, and Mrs. Graves was
seated, I started.
"Mrs. Graves, I said I owed you an apology, and I do. I'm truly
sorry for neglecting to learn your views on firearms before allowing Danny
to handle one. That was inexcusable on my part. Truthfully I can only
plead thoughtlessness. He was having such a good time that the thought
never occurred to me. Had it, I would never have gone against your
wishes." I paused to get some more of my thoughts in order.
"As for having guns in the house, it will take a few days but I can
get a heated gun safe and have it installed in the shop. It would be
locked and that way he couldn't get his hands on them. However, the boys
enjoy target shooting and I'm not willing to make them give it up, so
that's about as far as I'm willing to go in that regard. Since guns upset
you, I can rent you a motel until the safe arrives. I promise not to take
Danny shooting and we will not bring any guns into the house, but will keep
them in the shop. If I do all that will you reconsider your decision to
leave?"
"You don't have to worry about taking the boys shooting. As soon
as I tell Judy about the guns they won't be in your house anymore," she
sort of spat at me. She was still in her righteous indignation mode and
was convinced that guns were the root of all evil.
"Judy knows all about the guns and has known almost since the boys
were first here." I didn't know what else to add to that statement, so I
fell silent.
"I don't believe you."
Now that surprised me. "What reason would I have to lie? You can
easily check and it would be stupid of me to not tell you the truth about
Judy knowing about the guns. She checked all that out when she first
placed the boys with me." The conversation was going nowhere and I had no
idea of what to say next.
"I still don't believe you," she again replied, but this time with
just slightly less conviction in her voice.
I was trying to keep my cool, but this was starting to tick me off,
so I just handed her the phone. "Well ask her. Just punch autodial four,
that's her cell phone number. She and Art took Debbie shopping."
"I don't have to call her. The state would never permit a child to
live where there are guns."
"All the state requires is that any firearms be kept secure. I can
show you the locked gun cabinet in my bedroom closet if you wish?" I could
show her the cabinet and it was locked since I'd locked it when we were
getting ready to go to Disneyland and I hadn't gotten around to unlocking
it yet. I'd even put the padlock on the concealed drawer holding the
pistols, but any determined burglar could break it open. However that was
more of a joke as far as the boys went since they all knew where the keys
were, and they also knew that if they got in there without a good reason,
their asses were mine. Well maybe not their asses, but their allowances
and freedom. We had discussed that subject many times and they knew that
if they didn't practice good firearms safety there would be no more
shooting, and like most boys they enjoyed the competitiveness of shooting.
Suddenly I was struck by how many differences there are between girls and
boys. Boys tend to like loud noises and competing whereas many girls
appear to find such things less appealing, and might even consider them
unladylike. I put that thought out of my mind as I really didn't have time
to think about it right now.
"I still don't believe you." Mrs. Graves was starting to sound
like an endless loop.
"I can't tell you the chapter and verse of the law, but Judy can.
Why don't you call her and find out?" Jeez, this was turning into
something little kids might do when fighting on a playground. You know,
yelling "my daddy can whip your daddy" back and forth, or the old "is too,
is not" routine. I was just about to escort her to the door when I
remembered Danny's face and the utter dejection on it. I decided to try
something else.
"Look Mrs. Graves, do you remember how happy Danny was last night
and this morning, and did you see how he looked when he went to pack his
clothes?"
"Danny's fine!" she almost yelled at me.
The jump in her anger level made me wonder if this particular idea
had been a good one. Since I didn't' think I had much to lose, I
continued. "Do you know he's fine? Have you asked him or just told him?
I brought home a bubbly happy kid and he doesn't look that way now–"
"He's fine I tell you! I just need to keep him safe!" she
interrupted me. Then she dissolved in tears. "I just need to keep him
safe so he can grow up," she choked out, then sat there softly wailing,
"He's all I've got," repeating it over and over in a broken sobbing voice.
A memory flashed through my mind. One night when I was about
eleven or twelve I'd overheard my folks talking. They thought I was in bed
asleep and had been talking about a bike and fishing trip I wanted to take.
It wasn't really very far, only an hour's ride, and my friends and I
planned on fishing most of the day, but we would be gone all day. Dad had
been telling Mom that she had to let me grow up, that she couldn't protect
me all my life and that he thought I was old enough to go with my friends.
I'd been headed for the kitchen to get a snack, but I just squatted down
and listened to them. Mom was worried that we wouldn't watch the traffic,
or that something might happen to one of us, or we might fall in and drown,
and Dad kept telling her that we'd be fine. I couldn't really understand
why she had been so worried because we were always careful when riding our
bikes and the little creek wasn't really big enough to drown in, but Mom
didn't seem to understand that. Dad kept talking and finally I heard Mom
sigh and say she would let me go. I wanted to run in and hug them, but I
didn't want them to know I'd been listening so I'd just slipped back to
bed. The next morning at breakfast Mom told me that she and Dad had talked
it over and I could go, and when she told me that there was a smile on her
face. Now I realized that she was hurting inside, worrying about me, but
at the time she had given no clue of that. With that thought, perhaps I
now somewhat understood Mrs. Graves. I didn't know what to do with that
knowledge, but at least I had some understanding of it.
"Look, I think we both need to calm down and talk this over. Some
of the guns are locked in the trailer and the rest are locked in my gun
cabinet so they're pretty hard to get at. Now what I suggest is this, I've
got some pot roasts cooking so why don't you stay for dinner? Judy will be
home later this evening and you can talk to her. When we've both calmed
down we can talk it over and you can decide what to do."
About then another idea popped into my mind. "In fact, why don't I
call Judy and see if she and her family will have dinner with us. She told
me they were shopping and planned on eating out, but they might change
those plans."
It took a little more coaxing but I finally got her to agree. A
quick call to Judy and I got razzed a little over bribing the social worker
with food, but she agreed that they would come to dinner. So with that
arranged it was time to go out and tell Danny that he could stop packing
his clothes for now. Strange, when I opened the door all I could see was
boy backsides retreating. If I hadn't known better I might have been
forced to think they had been trying to eavesdrop on us, but since I knew
the boys were snoopy little devils I was sure that was exactly what they
had been doing.
When the Smellings showed up Judy grabbed Kath and took her into my
office while Art and I drank coffee and visited as I finished cooking
dinner. While all that was going on the boys got a complete description of
each and every new outfit Debbie had purchased, much to their annoyance.
Both Art and I agreed that the boys didn't appear to care what clothes
Debbie had picked out. I couldn't feel very sorry for them as I had
listened to similar descriptions from them even when I had just finished
paying for the clothes and knew very well what they looked like. However,
I doubted that the boys would see the parallel. They could be amazingly
dense at some times, and surprisingly perceptive at others. Art and I
chuckled and agreed that this would probably be one of those amazingly
dense times, and he said that Debbie was much the same. Kids seem to hear
only what they want to hear.
One amusing thing was that the boys kept looking at the office
door. It was killing them that they couldn't hear what was going on. A
boy would come out of the family room and walk slowly past the closed
office door, then walk quickly into the kitchen and ask when dinner would
be done. The return trip was just the same except said boy would start
quickly back and then slow down when passing the door. I swear you could
almost see their ears stretching towards the door. Their attempts at acting
nonchalant were total failures as far as Art and I were concerned, and we
kept giggling at them when they weren't within earshot. While I was
laughing at the boys, I must confess I was just as curious although I was
able to control myself a little better. I finally had to get busy on the
salad just to keep my hands busy. I started dicing apples and celery for a
Waldorf salad. I had decided to use a few red flame grapes in it because
that way I would get to eat a few of them. Grapes and my boys seemed to
have some sort of affinity for each other and no matter how many I bought,
I rarely got many of them to eat. I'd had everything except the potatoes
in the roaster when the Smellings had arrived, and had added them a few
minutes after Judy and Kath had retired to the office so I didn't have much
else to do except for the salad. All the time I was working on the salad,
I was almost dying of curiosity. I wished I knew what was being said so I
might cheer Danny up. He had been slumped on the couch in the family room
the last time I'd checked and he looked like his world had ended, but until
I knew how Judy was doing with Kath, there was nothing I could say to him.
The boys had been trying to cheer him up, with no success, so all we could
do was wait and hope that Judy could do something to improve the situation.
Danny still didn't think of himself as being part of our family so that
meant that the boys had little more to offer him other than their support
and encouragement. So far such offers were not having much effect and
until I know more there was little I could do to help him.
Dinner was done cooking, but so far there had been no word as to
how things were going in the office. I finally stuck my head through the
door and asked when they would be ready to eat. Receiving a reply that it
would be a while, I went and took the roaster out of the oven and removed
the vegetables and put them in the other oven to keep warm. The roasts
were done so I turned the oven down and returned them to the oven while Art
and I continued visiting. Twenty minutes later I was about to go drag Judy
and Kath out when they came out of the office on their own. When they did
that I got busy and dished up the salad and made the gravy. Of course I
had all the boy help I could use since there is something about hunger that
seems to spur them into taking an active part in getting food on table,
perhaps so they can get it in their stomachs more quickly.
Neither Kath nor Judy offered any comments on what they had talked
about and the boys seemed a little too shy to bring it up. Therefore, the
dinner conversation was rather innocuous. Judy and Art did say that dinner
was better than what they would have found in a restaurant, but that was
about the only thing of note. The boys were dying of curiosity and so was
I, but none of us were willing to bring the subject up, and so we just
enjoyed dinner. No, make that the Smellings enjoyed dinner while the rest
of us ate and wondered. The chuck roasts had turned out perfectly and
everyone managed to put away quite a few groceries even if some of us
weren't really paying much attention to what we ate. By the time we
finished, the stew idea was a lost cause. I could have probably made
enough stew for me and Dog, and maybe even a boy or two, but not for five
hungry boys, six if Danny was here and counted. I knew Art had a good
appetite, but was simply amazed at Debbie. She gave all the boys a good
run for their money with regards to tucking away dinner. I was lucky that
I had planned on the stew or there would never have been enough for the
five extra people I'd had for dinner.
Poor Danny just quietly ate his dinner and didn't look up and I
felt so sorry for him. He had been all bouncy and happy this morning and
now he was just dejected and quiet. He ate less than Mark even though he
was almost three years older and quite a bit bigger.
A few minutes after dinner Art and Judy said they had to leave so
Debbie could get her new clothes ready to wear. Judy had been bright and
bubbly ever since she and Kath came out of my office so I wasn't too
worried, but the boys were just simply nervous wrecks and Danny looked like
he was waiting for his execution. While the boys were picking up the
dishes and loading the dishwasher, Kath and I retired to the office.
Boy, I don't know what Judy said, but I want her on our side at the
next contract negotiations with the school district. I mean Kath was a
whole different person. She not only was willing to stay in a house with
guns in it, she wanted to come to the gun club with us and see just what it
was that we were doing. And yes, Danny was free to join us in shooting if
he wished to. I also got a bunch of apologies for her behavior and
promises that it wouldn't happen again if I would only give her another
chance. She was talking so fast I had a hard time getting the words in
that of course I would give her another chance, but when I finally got
through to her that I was willing to do so, she broke down in tears again.
Now I once again had the same problem I'd had this morning, that of where
she would live. My house was big enough, but I thought she would be more
comfortable with her own space to do with as she wished.
Danny still looked somewhat depressed even after Kath told him to
put his clothes back, but he did seem better than during dinner. As for my
bunch, there was all kinds of whining over making sure their books and
stuff were ready for school. So while the boys all bitched and whined
about having to get ready for school on Monday, Kath and I ignored them and
continued talking about how all this was going to work.
Jeez, I hadn't realized just what I was getting into when I first
entertained the idea of a housekeeper. It was apparent that we needed to
plan this out, and that included everything from hours through meals.
Things like how to handle household expenses, or who would do the cooking
on which days, and so many other items I was soon lost in the details. The
boys were sent to bed and we continued to hash things out.
Household expenses were the easiest subject to deal with once we
figured out how to handle it. Why we beat it around for so long before we
figured out the solution I have no idea, but the simple solution was to set
up a separate checking account and also have debit cards on it. That way
either of us could access that account although I didn't plan on using it
much. It was agreed that Kath would go to the bank and fill out all the
paperwork to start such an account and deposit the check I would give her
to get it started. We could then access that account online and put the
purchases in their proper categories. Not only that, I would suddenly have
some idea of just where the money was actually going rather than the way I
had done it up till this point in time. About all I had done was deposit
my checks in my checking account and spend money wherever I felt like. Big
purchases had been drawn on my investment account's money market fund, and
for the rest I wrote checks or used my debit card. If the checking account
was getting low, I merely transferred some money from the investment
account and continued on my merry way. In practice, most of the time the
checking account built up so I used that money to make extra payments on
the house and had only needed to transfer money to my checking account a
couple of times. Children's Services checks for the boys had just been
added to the checking account and everything had been working fine, but now
Kath insisted that I would be better off to actually track my expenses and
perhaps even make and follow a budget. While the idea sounded great, I
wasn't all that sure it was necessary. Most of the time my major problem
was what to do with money, not worrying about having enough of it. Anyhow,
we kicked it around for a while and finally had some of the details worked
out. It was now time to give her a check to get the whole thing started so
I got online and took a peak in my checking account. I had a pretty good
idea of what was in there, but wanted to make sure since I'd spent some
money with the debit card last week and hadn't gotten all the entries made
what with boys trying to drag me all over the place. I normally was quite
a bit better at that, but they had been so excited that somehow that little
job got lost in the rush.
Kath about fell clear out of her chair when I handed her a check to
start the account. I really couldn't see what she was so excited about
because I wanted enough in the account to cover things until her fancy
ideas on bookkeeping showed me what I needed to put in each month.
Besides, I figured on paying all of the household expenses out of it so ten
thousand sounded like a good starting point. We finally agreed to talk
about it more at a later time, and then we both headed off to our
respective beds. I was bushed, both from the trip and the emotional roller
coaster ride type of day it had been.
Monday was one of those days in which the students were restless.
Having a week off had upset their schedules and the whole day was spent
trying to get them back in the groove. Even with that, my thoughts of
yesterday on the differences between boys and girls caused me to really pay
attention to the students. I mean sure, I had always known there were
differences, but now that I was actually looking for them what I discovered
surprised me. The girls were somewhat calmer and more willing to sit and
study while the boys were more rambunctious. That I allowed a certain
amount of that rambunctiousness to spill over into my classes sometimes
made them look a little chaotic, yet the kids all knew where the line was
and that I would only tolerate a certain level of that behavior. However,
trying to make the boys stay as quiet as the girls were willing to be only
produced disinterest and resentment from them. The boys were also more
willing to confront me, much like Marty had done over Pendinkio. Yet I
could detect no real differences in intelligence, only broad differences in
attitude and behavior. Girls tended to be much neater with their papers
while I sometimes had to search to find the answers on the boys' papers,
yet both came up with about the same number of correct answers.
By the end of the day I was coming to a few conclusions. Boys tended
to charge ahead, depending on skill or strength to succeed, while girls
tended to be a little more thoughtful and sometimes even a little devious
in trying to get their way. Yet there were broad overlaps. Some girls
were much like boys in the way they acted, and there were also boys who
acted much like girls in the way they approached their studies. While
Marty's papers often looked like they had escaped from a paper shredder
just short of total destruction, Joel Mattious turned in very neat papers.
By the same token, Cindy Carmichael turned in papers that looked even worse
than Marty's. Yet all received about the same grades because they were
right about the same amount of the time. All were superior students and
also popular with their classmates. In fact, you could just about pick out
how the papers would look by their personalities. Cindy could best be
described as a tomboy, while Joel was quite quiet and reserved. I wasn't
really sure just what to make of those observations, only that they were
interesting. Girls tended to be slightly more patient while boys tended to
be more quickly bored. Yet when you got them interested, boys tended to be
slightly more single minded or focused on a subject, stubbornly attacking
it until they mastered it. However, getting them interested was somewhat
more difficult. On the other hand, girls seemed to be able to think about
more subjects at the same time, jumping back and forth between them with no
apparent problem. That sometimes produced problems for me as it took me a
few seconds to catch up with what they were now thinking and talking about.
I wondered about some of my college courses in which there had been little
attention paid to the fact that the two sexes reacted somewhat differently,
and that made me wonder if political correctness had reared its ugly head
and forced my professors to skip that subject, but I had no real way of
knowing. I'd heard a few comments about girls being easier to teach, but I
hadn't really found that to be the case. They were a little easier to get
along with, but in the end I could see no real differences in their
learning abilities, just that they seemed to think slightly differently.
During my first year it had been somewhat easier for me to relate to and
explain things to boys, I suppose because I was male, but by the end of the
year I was learning how to interact with the girls and that pretty well
took care of that problem. After that it was just kind of automatic and I
never paid any attention to how I interacted with either sex, I just did.
In fact, I acted more on their personalities rather than whether they were
boys or girls. Some kids loved to tease and be teased, while others
couldn't handle that very well. The biggest problem was figuring out how
each student should be handled. Teasing a student who can't handle it is a
surefire way to insure he dislikes you and will make it almost impossible
to teach him anything, much less something as complicated as some of the
math classes I taught. By the same token, it seemed to spur on students
like Marty who appeared to thrive on it. He was continually looking for
places where I had made an error, waiting to pounce. The level of
concentration that took almost assured he would have no problem with the
subject. After all, you can't find mistakes unless you know the subject.
Then there were different levels of teasing. In some cases it needed to be
restricted to just gentle chiding, while in a few cases you could get
pretty clever with your verbal jabs. The class always perked up and paid
attention when Marty and I got into one of those little verbal jousts, and
even the ones who couldn't handle it themselves would look on with a
longing, kind of like they wished they had the confidence to do what Marty
was doing. However, even the girls had been restless today and I figured
it would take a couple of days before everyone was settled in and back to
normal. I was left thinking that there definitely were differences in the
two sexes outside of the physical ones, but I wasn't sure just what that
meant or that it made any difference. I did know that I didn't really
understand girls and that I had to be careful or they could pull the wool
over my eyes, where if boys tried the same thing I could see right through
it. I suppose girls feel the same way about boys and probably complain
that they can't understand them either. The whole thing sounded like a
good subject for some morning when there wasn't anything else to kick
around at the morning meeting, or maybe even one of those summer classes
I'd been taking.
Practice didn't go all that well as the kids couldn't seem to
settle down and concentrate. There were considerably more than the usual
whines and moans about the loosening up exercises and stretches. It had
stopped raining so we practiced outdoors and at least I didn't have to
contend with the girls' team diverting attention from what we were doing.
It was hard to believe how much one week off had caused the team to forget
all the times I had preached controlling their bats, and they were once
again flailing at the ball, totally ignoring all I had tried to teach them.
The pitchers were also trying to overthrow and that destroyed their control
over where they placed the ball in relation to the strike zone. Oh well,
we had a couple more days to get ready for the next game which would be our
first game of the season which counted in league standings. The team was
starting to get it back together by the time practice was over so I had
hopes that by Thursday they would be back to where they had been before
Spring Break.
Dinner wasn't quite what I expected. It wasn't bad, just not very
good. Kath needed some cooking lessons and I was left wondering when I
would be able to work them in, and if I would be able to do so in a manner
that wouldn't anger or upset her. Still, it was nice not to have to stop
and brave Mrs. Downie and then rush home to feed my starving mob. In fact
the boys didn't even have time to get their homework done before dinner,
and it was only the fact that I hadn't assigned any homework for over the
break that allowed me to be caught up. Our agreement last night had left
us with Kath cooking during the week and me on the weekends. Maybe I could
give a few cooking lessons on the weekends, teaching both Kath and the boys
a little more about cooking. Just a little more seasoning would have made
all the difference in the world to her cooking. She also needed a better
grasp of the amount of food six boys could eat. There was just barely
enough for dinner and I knew the boys would attempt to wear out the hinges
out on the refrigerator door before the night was done, looking for
leftovers that weren't there. While Danny plunged right into the food, I
could see my boys were not attacking with quite their usual gusto, and
there was a lot more passing of the salt and pepper than normal.
Kath had some forms from the bank for me to sign, and she also had
a handful of checks which she tried to share with me. I didn't need any of
them and could wait until the personalized ones showed up, along with the
debit cards.
When I was finished with that I went into my office to catch up on
some planning and student reviews I'd been meaning to do for a while. I
was busily checking over a couple of student's grades when Corey and LT
asked if I was busy. Since the reviews weren't something which had to be
done immediately, I told them to come on in.
"What's up guys?"
"Umm, well–me and LT were talking, and we wondered if, well could you
do something about her cooking?" Corey started out.
"LT and I, not me and LT," I said. That correction was so old I was
beginning to think I would wear the words out. "Also Mrs. Graves is not
just a her. She has a name." I let them digest that for a few seconds
before I continued.
"I've been thinking about Mrs. Grave's cooking, and I know it's a
little flat." There were a couple a snorts about that time telling me that
they thought it was more than a little flat. I hurried on before any more
snorts interrupted my train of thought. "Look guys, I don't like it any
better than you do, but I think we need to be a little careful about how we
handle this. You don't like it very well when someone tells you what you
just did is terrible do you?"
"But–but–just what can we do? Her cooking sucks," LT said, adding to
my knowledge of how the boys were reacting to Kath's cooking. Sucks wasn't
as bad as gross, and was only mildly critical. They had a system worked
out to where they could describe things in words never intended for that
purpose and you had to know the code. So far neither had mentioned barf so
that meant they could stand eating it. They just didn't like it very well.
"I'm not very happy with it either," I replied, "but how do you think
we should solve the problem?"
"Why can't you just tell her?" That was from Corey. He followed up,
"You hired her so you can tell her what to do."
"You're right Corey, I could just tell her what to do, but would that
be the best way to handle it? You never seem very happy when I just tell
you to do something. Perhaps she thinks she is a good cook. Would you
like it if someone told you that something you'd worked on, say one of your
paintings on which you'd spent a lot of time and effort and thought you'd
done a pretty good job, was terrible? Some people are not as good at a
specific task as others, but is it a good idea to just tell them they did a
poor job?"
"Umm, no." he replied.
"Well guys, I think part of the problem is that Mrs. Graves doesn't
really know how to cook. Apparently Danny is used to it because he dug
right in and seemed to like it. I guess I'm asking you how to solve the
problem, so do you have any ideas? I've got one but you may have better
ones."
"Well can't you just teach her?" asked LT.
"Yes, I could do that, but think about it a little. How would you
have liked it if I had insisted on teaching you how to ride a bike when you
guys got your bikes?"
"But I knew how to ride a bike," LT protested vigorously. "You
didn't need to teach me."
"Maybe Kath thinks she knows how to cook. Perhaps she'd feel the
same way you would have if I'd insisted on teaching you to ride when you
thought you already knew how."
"Oh," was all the reply I got from him.
"But we gotta do something, her cooking really sucks," Corey said.
Now this was a little more serious because really sucks is quite a
bit worse than sucks on the boys' scale.
"Gotta?" I asked. "Where did you learn that word? At least Corey
hung his head a little and looked somewhat sheepish at my chiding him about
his language, but it didn't look like the boys were willing to let the
matter drop.
"The one idea I have requires your help. Are you guys willing to
help, and do you think your brothers will go along with it?" I asked them.
For quite a while we all had been referring to ourselves as a family and
the boys as brothers, although the only actual brothers were Kyle and Mark.
I got a bunch of head nodding so I continued.
"I was thinking of maybe holding cooking classes on the weekends for
you guys, and maybe we could get the lessons across to Kath without hurting
her feelings too badly. Do you think that might work, and are you willing
to have a few cooking lessons to see if it does?"
I got some more head nods over that suggestion and they then decided
they were going to go fix some popcorn, popcorn which had lots of butter
and salt on it according to LT. Apparently they thought I had solved the
problem and were now going to leave it to me. I hoped they were right.
I had just finished up my office work and was just about to join
everyone in the family room when Judy called, wanting to know how things
were going. That took a while even though I really didn't have anything to
tell her outside of it appeared to be going. I got quite a bit more
background on Kath, along with Judy's description of her family and
childhood. Some of the information was interesting and might help me
smooth over the bumps, at least I hoped so. Probably the most important
thing I learned was that Kath's family had been quite poor and her mother a
horrible cook. Now all I had to do was get her to overcome the shock of
having a little money, give her a few cooking lessons, and hopefully we
would be off and running.
I couldn't believe how much extra time I had since I hadn't had to
do the cooking. I had everything almost caught up and it was not even time
for bed. I really didn't know what to do with myself. A little checking
around and I discovered Corey was in the darkroom doing something with the
pictures he had taken at Disneyland and he had Danny with him; JJ and LT
were in their room working on some science project; and Kyle and Mark were
watching the tube. Well actually, they were sort of watching and mostly
complaining there wasn't much on as they channel surfed. When I asked if
they wanted to help load some shells, off we went to the reloading room to
crank out some shotgun shells for Sunday. It was getting to where it took
a gob of shells to keep five boys happy and now we would be adding another.
For the next hour we worked away and got a case loaded. That was only
twenty boxes so I figured we would have to make another effort later in the
week, but it was a start.
We were just finishing up when Kath stuck her head in, wondering
what we were doing. Before it was over I had to get out some powder and
take her and Danny out and show them that it wasn't an explosive. So far
I'd had to go through that routine with every addition to the family, and I
could see simple amazement in both their eyes when I poured a little out on
the ground, threw a match on it and it just burned up and didn't explode.
Shotgun powder is a pretty fast powder, so it burned in kind of a flash,
but there was no bang. Still I was pleased to see that Kath was now at
least willing to learn a little about firearms and shells and not just fly
off the handle. I still wondered what Judy had said to her, but whatever
it was had made a tremendous difference in her attitude. I knew that Judy
was pretty good at convincing people and had four boys living with me as
proof of that fact. She hadn't seemed to have much trouble convincing me
to do what she wanted me to do.
Danny was all excited about watching Corey develop and print a few
pictures. Corey grinned and said he spent more time showing Danny how it
all worked than accomplishing anything, but Danny was just bubbling over
once again. Between watching the powder demonstration, and the developing
and printing demonstration, he was suddenly again talking a mile a minute.
He had been so fascinated with the pictures that I'd almost had to drag him
out of the darkroom for the powder demonstration, but now he couldn't seem
to shut up about either. The next thing I knew we were out in the shop
going through some boxes and looking for Kath's camera. I was surprised to
learn she also had a Pentax so all my 35-millimeter lenses would work on
it. She only had the lens that had come with the camera, and I learned
that the camera had been her husband's and she'd never used it. It was
actually a newer camera than mine, but it was also an auto focus model. It
needed a new battery so we couldn't see if it functioned, but since Danny
was so excited about the idea if taking and developing pictures I knew one
of us would have to stop tomorrow and pick up a battery. That was followed
by the thought that I needed to check my film supply and see if I should
order more. A quick look in the freezer and I decided I had plenty for
now.
After I had worked enough with Corey to where he was somewhat
competent in the darkroom, he frequently went down there by himself and
worked on pictures he had taken to use with his painting. He didn't really
worry about how good a picture he took, only that he captured an image he
could work from. For me it was different, as I tried for better
photographs knowing that what I snapped would be pretty much what I got.
While you can improve things in the darkroom, you can only go so far while
an artist can go a lot further. That meant that Corey could just blaze
away, snapping anything that caught his fancy and then take parts of two or
more pictures and put them together in a sketch, and sometimes go ahead and
paint a picture from that sketch. He was happy that Kath had now moved
downstairs so he could have his room back for his painting. While the
basement wasn't ideal for them, having her and Danny downstairs provided
them a little more privacy. I needed to see what could be done about the
housing situation, but I just hadn't had time since my deal on the one
house had gone south. I thought it would be handy for her to live close
by, but knew of no house close to mine which I thought might be available.
I was still far behind on completing things like getting a medical plan for
her and Danny, and her retirement account set up. I still needed to talk
more with my accountant and get the withholding and everything else
organized. This was turning into a lot bigger deal than I'd realized when
it was first suggested. I was left thinking how much simpler life had been
before Corey.
Sure life had been simpler, but there had been a loneliness in me
that I hadn't even realized existed. Now I didn't have time to be lonely.
Still, the changes one boy had wrought in my life were amazing. At first
I'd felt sorry for him and simply tried to make his life a little better,
but then I had really fallen for him. Yet for all the changes, Corey was
still my central focus. I was having a ball playing father to all the
boys, but it was when I was in bed with Corey snuggled up beside me that a
deep contentment and satisfaction seemed to settle over me. For all the
problems that had happened this year, I couldn't remember ever being so
happy. I had always put on a happy front when growing up, but the
unsettled state of my orientation had left me worried and somewhat sad
inside. Now that sadness was gone, and instead I knew that all I really
wanted to do was spend the rest of my life loving Corey. There were so
many things I admired about him that I couldn't even list them all. Some
were just little things, much like tonight when he had spent his time
showing Danny how to develop and print pictures when he likely would have
rather just worked on his pictures without any interruptions. Another
reason was his willingness to try to help people to the best of his
ability. I couldn't figure out where he had come by that trait as I
doubted that his mother had taught it to him. Another reason was how hard
he had tried to make JJ and LT, and now the other boys, feel comfortable
once he had understood they were not taking his place. Such things made me
so proud of him and made me love him even more. I liked his wicked sense
of humor that had cropped up once he had started to become comfortable
around me, and he continually kept me on my toes wondering what kind of
joke he would pull on me next. He was never vicious, just funny, although
sometimes it took a few seconds to get the jokes because he would sneak
them in so slyly. Yet through it all he was somewhat shy and retiring. To
watch him for a short while, you would never realize that when it came to
the household and the other boys, Corey was their leader. He never really
seemed to exert any influence, yet he was the one the other boys turned to
when they wanted to know what their chances of getting me to allow them to
do something was, and he was rarely wrong. That wasn't because I would cut
him more slack than the others, only that he had a very good grasp of what
was permissible or acceptable. In fact, I sometimes thought he could do
just as good a job of looking out for them as I could. Watching him while
Danny chattered on about learning about photography, I could see a soft
smile on his face and he was really enjoying Danny's enthusiasm. While he
enjoyed playing with the other boys, it was sometimes almost like he
thought of himself as one of their parents and that he needed to watch over
them and help and protect them. Sure, there were lots of times when he was
pure boy, but even then he sort of watched over them.
I think Danny about wore Kath's ears out before she finally decided
he needed to go to bed. It was a little past bedtime, but even so there
was the normal amount of complaining before boys headed off for bed. The
complaining was more of a ritual with each of us playing our respective
parts. I mean really, they were going to complain, and I and now Kath were
going to say no, and they would keep complaining as they headed off for
bed. It had only taken Danny one evening until he fit right in, doing just
the right amount of complaining and never taking it too far. I knew there
would be a few last checks of the refrigerator, and some whining about
nothing good to eat, but soon they would be in bed. Even Dog had it
figured out as he would come over and say goodnight as the boys were
complaining, and then would follow JJ and LT to their room. However, he
still hadn't figured out just how much extra time he had to allow for
saying goodnight to Kath, and so he had to trot to catch up with JJ and LT.
Soon there was a steady stream of brief or boxer clad boys peering in the
fridge door and then once again retreating to bed. I went around checking
the doors and turning off lights and soon we were once again closed up for
the night.
I did spend a few minutes talking with Kath about quantities of
food necessary for that many boys and she just said she knew Danny ate a
lot, but couldn't believe how much it took for that many boys. I had a
hunch that tomorrow night there would be no shortage of food. Tonight had
produced no leftovers, and while I don't think it would have taken much
more, the meal had been just a little shy. With that covered, it was time
to go to bed. Kath and I still had much to work out, but it would not be
all done in one evening.
I wondered how most couples handled things, that is if you could
consider Corey and me a couple. As it was, Corey and I always seemed to
have a few things we talked over when we were snuggled up in bed and
tonight was no exception. Corey was still talking about Kath's cooking and
was convinced that we really needed to help her with it. I pointed out
that we needed to be very careful about how we handled it, and that
ninety-nine per cent of the problem was the lack of seasoning. I also told
him that he needed to talk with JJ, Kyle, and Mark so they understood just
what we were doing and why. He agreed that hurting her feeling would only
make it more difficult. Like most evenings, any subject we started on soon
turned into a little broader discussion, and soon we were talking about how
you encourage people by praising their successes while gently trying to
help them overcome their weaknesses. Right in the middle of that
discussion he floored me with the correct observation that that was how I
appeared to approach teaching. He was right, although I would add most
people can learn anything they put their minds to, and a teacher's job is
to make the subject interesting enough to make the student want to learn
it. We kicked that subject around a little and he agreed that he would get
Kyle and Mark aside and tell them the object of the cooking classes we
would hold on weekends. He told me that LT would likely tell JJ, and he
was probably right. What Corey hadn't grasped was that there were two
goals for the cooking class and he was concentrating on the first one. He
thought it would be all about teaching Kath to cook without hurting her
feelings, and I didn't bother to tell him that the other part was that I
thought everyone needed to know how to cook enough to at least be able to
feed themselves, and so it was also about the boys learning to cook.
Most of my classroom teaching was along the same line. While I had
to cover the things in the text that was only part of what I tried to do,
and a lesser part at that. For each new concept I introduced I tried to
come up with a short discussion that would show the kids why they needed to
know what I was going to teach them. It really doesn't make any difference
what subject you teach, the object is to make your students think and
figure things out. If you are only interested in covering the material in
the text, then you are doing your students a real disservice. No matter
what concept I brought up I tried to have examples ready to show them why
they needed to know it. It could be something as simple as how to increase
the size of a recipe by fifty percent or how to figure out how much
anti-freeze they needed to add to their radiators, or even understand
something about statistics so they would comprehend what made political
polling possible. I always tried to use examples that they would be
familiar with and some of those had been drawn from the major industry in
the area, which was lumbering, to current events that were in the news
which their parents might have talked about. I also tried to make myself
knowledgeable enough on each student's family to where I could ask them to
find out things from their family that would apply, such as how many board
feet of lumber were in a load of logs, and then would show them how that
applied to the amount of lumber in an average house. Kids are much more
inclined to pay attention if they can see a reason for knowing how to do
something than they are when they cannot. If we worked the cooking lessons
right, we could get Kath interested and sneak the lessons in without her
realizing what we were doing. While I'd taught the boys a little food
prep, such as how to dice things, so far we had never gotten very far into
seasoning and that was what Kath needed. I explained that I thought I
would have the boys cook something without any advice on seasoning, and
then have Kath and myself taste it, along with all the boys, to see what it
needed, We would then discuss what they needed to add to make it taste
right. My experience told me that most recipes are only a starting point,
and that frequently they needed a little tweaking to make them really good.
It might be something as simple as just a little more salt, or some recipes
needed a lot of spices not even mentioned in the original recipe. In this
class we were going to work on what spices go best in what foods and how
much to use. My hope was that Kath would get the message without us having
to actually tell her, and Corey thought that might work. We would just
have to try it and see. Even if it didn't work with Kath, at least the
boys would be better able to feed themselves should they need to.
There were nights when we played around, and then there were nights
like tonight in which we just cuddled and talked quietly. Perhaps the
really odd thing was that I think both of us really liked the talking and
cuddling evenings. Of course sometimes we played around and then talked,
or talked and then played around, but somehow these quite ones were
special. Conversations could go anywhere and cover anything, and sometimes
dreams were talked about. Not the kind of dreams a person has when asleep,
but the dreams you have about what might happen in your future. At first
Corey had been reluctant to talk much about his future, but as time had
gone on he was starting to realize that he had a future. Some nights were
sad, like when we talked about his mother, and others were joyful, like
when we had talked about going to Disneyland or his art. Sometimes the
conversations were silly and sometimes they were serious, but we both
seemed to really enjoy them. Yet sometimes after we had finished and Corey
was sleeping, I was overcome with sadness. Mostly that sadness stemmed
from the fact that there were many children like Corey, children trapped in
a situation in which there was little way to break out, worrying more about
survival than what the future might hold and how much fun they could have
exploring it. It was times like that when I knew I had been lucky in my
life. I'd had two parents who had loved me, and while they hadn't given me
everything I'd asked for, they had given me everything I really needed,
plus they had given me something much more precious. They had paid
attention to me and helped me grow up. While both had worked, still they
were willing to give me their time. They had spent many hours trying to
explain and teach me what it took to be a good person. We all fail at that
on occasion, but when we do we just have to recognize our failure and try
not to make the same mistake again. Sometimes, if we're lucky, we can fix
a mistake, but other times we just have to live with it.
And then there were nights like tonight. After Corey had drifted
off to sleep I worried was I doing the right thing. Many things I was
pretty sure I was doing right, but the big thing I was undecided on, and of
course that big thing was how would our relationship affect his growing up?
On nights like this I had come to know what it was I really wanted, and
that was an adult Corey to share my life. I really loved the boy Corey,
but was confident that the adult Corey would be much better. The reason I
was so confident was that Corey had a strength to him none of the other
boys had. Where he had developed it I didn't know. Perhaps his mother had
instilled it before she developed her drug problem. Maybe it was just
something that was part of him. Yet a nagging worry was there. I wondered
if our relationship would hinder his growth. Would it stop him from
developing into a confident adult, able to make his own decisions and
function independently of me? That wasn't what I wanted. He had to be
capable of understanding what it was he wanted and then be willing to go
after it. If he didn't achieve that, then he would always remain the boy
Corey. I just couldn't decide on an answer to the big question. It is so
hard to see what the effects of an action will be many years in the future.
Would my life have been different had I not talked with Mr. Franklin that
morning when he was so upset over the death of his student? Sometimes
little ripples on the waters of life start big waves, and something that
seems insignificant at the time has a major impact. And so I worried, as I
had done on many nights, about whether or not I was doing the right thing
for Corey. I finally fell asleep with the thoughts of how great life would
be when he grew up. Since I enjoyed the boy in him so much I was in no
hurry for that to happen. He needed to have fun and learn the lessons of
childhood to become the man I thought he would grow into. Now was a time
for fun, for stretching his wings and trying while I was in the background
able to catch him if he reached too far or tried to fly too high. Only by
trying those things, that all kids try, would he be able to fully grow up.
Only through that trying could he develop the confidence and judgment that
would help him to be an adult in thought and deed, not just in years.
Growing up is not an event measured by some calendar, but rather a process
in which the individual slowly learns all those things necessary to become
a stable and productive member of society. It is all those lessons that
temper his judgment and allow him to make the right decision. Corey
deserved the time to learn those things.
Well Tuesday was one of those days when I would have been better
off to stay in bed. It didn't start badly, in fact I managed to get a
little vanilla and some nutmeg in the French toast batter and they boys
inhaled it just like normal, and it was even easier to do than I had
thought. I just commented that they liked it that way and Kath had no
problems with it and told me she would remember. It was at school where
everything went to pieces.
First period was when it all started. Andrea Jordan was moving
poorly and acted like sitting was very uncomfortable. She said she had
fallen and bruised herself. I might have accepted that except this wasn't
the first time she'd had this sort of problem and it seemed a little too
often to me, so I asked to speak with her after the class for a couple of
minutes. She got kind of a trapped look and suddenly I was suspicious.
Now kids are always getting banged up, but it seemed to be happening to
Andrea way too often, particularly since she didn't appear any more clumsy
than most, and while somewhat of a tomboy, she still was not one whom I
thought would be rambunctious enough to be getting hurt that often. The
next thing I knew we had Nurse Kostic come over from the grade school to
check and see if the injuries were something that needed a doctor's
attention. Andrea was getting even more upset over the whole thing and
warning bells were ringing all through my mind.
Those warning bells were right, and soon the police and Judy were
there checking out what Nurse Kostic flatly stated was child abuse. Like a
lot of abused kids Andrea wasn't willing to say who had beaten her, but
that wasn't my problem right then. That was something the police and Judy
would have to get sorted out. Instead I was upset that kids felt they had
to put up with that kind of treatment and would try to shield the abuser.
We had just gotten that somewhat straightened out when Jerry popped
in and asked to talk to me a minute. He wanted to know what was going on
in Sacramento that would have the legislature calling and asking if I could
be spared to testify before one of their committee hearings on education.
What he really wanted to know is how I had managed to get mixed up in
something like that, and I had to tell him I had absolutely no idea. I had
never written letters to them, nor was I active in the teachers union so
the whole thing puzzled me. Anyhow, he told me that he had made
arrangements for me to have next Monday off so I could drive down and
testify and that left me wondering just what it was they wanted to ask me.
All Jerry could offer was a time and meeting room number so I got no
answers from him. That made another thing that was now on my mind.
People say things happen in 3's, and today proved them right.
Shortly after lunch there was a call for me regarding the upcoming trial of
Les Jamison, Rev. Langston, and the others involved with the bombing of my
first Gator. The trial date had been moved up, owing to a case being
settled out of court, and was now supposed to start next week. Of course
this was after it had been delayed several times by the defense lawyers.
At least it wasn't scheduled to start on Monday, but instead it was
supposed to start on Thursday which was bad because the team had a baseball
game scheduled that day. Next week was looking like a disaster what with
going to Sacramento on Monday, JJ's birthday on Wednesday, and a trial and
a baseball game on Thursday. At the rate it was going I was pretty sure
some other things would crop up to interfere with and occupy any free
minutes I might happen to have. I'd been sort of hoping for a few easy
weeks to get rested up from Disneyland, but it didn't look like it was
working out that way. Anyhow, the D.A. wanted me to come in sometime this
week so he could go over my part in the upcoming trial. We agreed that I
would stop over tomorrow before lunch as I had third period off on
Wednesdays and if the meeting ran a little long I could use my lunch break.
Jeez, it seemed like no matter how I tried there was always something
happening to upset my routine.
I had no more than gotten that settled when both the policeman and
Judy tracked me down wanting more information about Andrea Jordan. I
couldn't tell them much except that I had noticed her being sore a couple
of other times. For the most part she was a nice, but somewhat quiet young
lady who almost always had her homework done and rarely caused any
problems. Jerry was stuck filling in for me in class while I answered
their questions. The problem was that as the questioning went along I
didn't like what I was learning. In order to get information they were
letting some things slip and it soon became apparent that yes, Andrea had
been beaten, and the worst part was the reason. She had been sticking up
for me to her father who was one of Rev. Langston's followers. After much
talking and checking of records, we pretty well figured out that one of the
beatings had occurred just after Rev. Langston's first trial for organizing
the window breaking and phone call episode. We couldn't determine any
reason for the other time I remembered, and I only remembered it because of
the fact that she had been out of school for a couple of days. I was left
feeling horrible that I hadn't picked up on it sooner. Yet I just didn't
see how I could have done that. With some kids it might have been easier,
but Andrea, although quiet, was somewhat of a tomboy and was always joining
in with boys in some of their games. She was a pretty good basketball
player and had taught more than one boy not to take her lightly on the
court. She didn't say all that much, but instead was more prone to prove
herself with actions and so that made her one that might be expected to do
something where she might occasionally hurt herself. Her explanations had
always seemed pretty straightforward and believable so I had bought them.
I was left wishing she had said something and given me a chance to help.
No kid needs or deserves to be beaten. While I could remember getting a
few swats from the folks, as soon as I got old enough for them to reason
with they had switched to other less physical punishments. I could even
remember a few times I would have willingly traded a few swats for what
they did come up with for punishments. Those swats had only stung a
little, and it was more the fact that I had angered them than the actual
punishment that had accomplished what they wanted. The other thought that
went through my mind was that I must have about driven my parents nuts at
times. Until I was about fifteen or sixteen it seemed like I was always in
trouble. Most of those troubles were from forgetting to tell them when I
would be home, or getting home late, or forgetting to do my chores, things
like that. I hadn't really been a bad kid, just forgetful about following
rules or doing chores, the same things that I found my boys doing. I was
beginning to think that was pretty typical kid behavior and I found myself
nagging the boys much as my parents had nagged me. The last time I could
remember Dad laying a hand on me was when I was about five years old and I
had defied him. Needless to say I learned that wasn't a very good idea.
However, the real thing that stuck in my mind about that incident was not
getting dinner until long after dinner time, and not getting ice cream when
Dad and Mom had a bowl. Since there was no lasting pain from the spanking,
not getting the ice cream hurt the worst. I could remember vowing to
myself that I was never going to do anything again which might stop me from
having ice cream. Yet Andrea had been beaten, not spanked, but beaten. No
matter how I tried I just couldn't understand something like that. How
could any parent think it was his right to beat his child until she could
barely sit the following day? For that matter, why had she stuck up for me
to where he would do something like that? The whole thing left me
depressed and somewhat angry. Andrea was a nice girl and didn't deserve
such treatment. I'd never had a minute's trouble with her and when I asked
her to do something, she was always quick to comply. About the only thing
in her personality that would even suggest such a thing was a dogged
determination in her studies. She was always unwilling to give up until
she understood it and got it right. While she wasn't the best student in
the school, she was easily in the top fifteen percent, maybe a little
higher. I was left wondering if maybe I had a hard time believing her
father would beat her because I just never saw anything in her that I
thought might create a problem. In fact if I had a daughter, I would be
more than happy to have one just like her.
They finally finished questioning me and I got back to class. As I
was leaving Judy and Officer Wrangle, they were talking about which of the
other teachers they wanted to question next. Somehow the whole incident
had put a damper on my spirits for the day and I was more than glad when
classes were finally over and I could get on with practice.
Practice went real well, and it was almost like Spring Break had
never happened. The players were once again paying attention and working
hard, almost as hard as before the break. If all of last year's starters
hadn't gone on to high school I would probably have had a much better team,
but we were seriously lacking in experience. My predecessor had not used
as many players as I always liked to use with the football team, so I had
to bring along a whole new crop of starters. They were improving and
hopefully would continue to do so. The only thing was I was pretty sure
the other teams were improving also, and I wondered if we could catch up.
While not every player had played in both of our exhibition games, they had
all played at least an inning in one of them. I was a firm believer that
all kids deserved a chance, and that the team would be better off for that
experience. For example, it would mean that if I continued coaching the
baseball team I would never be stuck with not having any players with much
game experience. Granted that there are always some kids who are
athletically better than others and those kids will get more playing time,
but all team members should receive some playing time and that helps the
team in future years. I was a firm believer in the theory that today's
backup player can be tomorrow's starter. Besides, all the kids needed to
feel that their work was worthwhile and that they all had a chance.
Dinner was a little disappointing. Certainly there is nothing
wrong with macaroni and cheese, but not as pretty much the whole meal.
Adding a salad to macaroni and cheese does not a dinner make, at least not
in my opinion, and from their expressions the boys felt about the same way.
My bunch kept looking around to see where the rest of the dinner was. As
for the macaroni and cheese itself, adding some Velveeta to macaroni just
isn't my idea of good macaroni and cheese either. I wasn't looking forward
to it but I was going to have to take the bull by the horns and see if
there wasn't some way to get the whole cooking thing under control. While
the boys might become used to eating like that, I was not willing to do so,
and that left me trying to figure out just how to keep from hurting Kath's
feelings and yet still improve the meals. There were too many days left
before any cooking class so I needed to do something right away.
It only got worse after dinner when the boys started picking up the
dishes and cleaning up the kitchen and Kath told them not to bother, she
would take care of it. Now it wasn't that I minded her doing the work, but
the boys all needed chores of some kind, and cleaning up the kitchen and
loading the dishwasher were some of the ones that I had come up with for
them. They had whined at first, but had pretty well given up on that when
they saw I wasn't going to yield on the issue. I understood their gripes,
and even remembered making many of the same arguments to my parents, but my
parents had been just as unyielding as I was now being. So it was off to
the office to talk things over with Kath again and try to get the situation
straightened out. The boys had grinned when Kath told them not to bother
with the dishes, but those grins had disappeared with my glare and I didn't
even have to tell them to continue with their task while I talked with
Kath.
I started on the chore bit, and I really didn't get that much of an
argument. Kath did try to argue that since I was paying her she felt that
she needed to earn her money, but soon gave way to the argument that the
boys needed chores in order to learn that they needed to contribute their
part to the family, and also to learn some work habits and responsibility.
After we kicked that around a little, she finally acquiesced that the boys
would continue to clean up after meals and keep their rooms clean. While
they weren't known for doing a real great job of keeping their rooms clean,
I periodically made them really clean them and they knew that bedding had
to be changed at least once a week and that I wouldn't tolerate having
dirty clothes all over the floor. Throwing LT's favorite jacket in the
garbage had pretty well convinced them on the pickup bit, and even though
he had managed to rescue it before it was hauled off, the used coffee
grounds I'd dumped on top of it meant he was without it for a couple of
days. He also had to pay for dry-cleaning it out of his allowance. You
might even say it was almost amazing how much better things were picked up
after that little episode. Clothes might get tossed on the bed, or hung on
the bedpost, but they were never dropped on the floor after that. That
same treatment had also worked on leaving shoes scattered all over the
house, and Corey had quickly learned that shoes did not belong in the
family room or living room unless they were on feet. I wasn't a neat
freak, so I was willing to overlook beds not being made, or a little dust
on the furniture, but I did insist that the covers be sort of put back into
place.
After we got that straightened out I was forced to confront the
food issue. Thank God I did. Kath had been planning on tuna casserole for
dinner tomorrow night, a simply ghastly dish no matter who cooks it or how
hard they try to make it edible. Tuna casserole was one of those things I
remembered hating for as long as I could remember, and Mom used to
occasionally try to get me to eat some of it. She finally got the message
when I quit complaining but just refused eat it. I got some static for a
while, but she finally gave up. I suppose if I was starving I would eat
one, but that is the only time unless I was trapped, like being a guest at
someone's home when they served one. As far as I was concerned, the word
abhorrent could be simply defined in all dictionaries by merely
substituting the words tuna casserole for the usual definition. No further
words or definitions would be necessary. At least the dinner after
Mrs. Babcock's funeral had gotten rid of the couple that had been brought
over and I didn't have to eat any of them, as if I would have anyway.
We had just gotten started on the whole food subject when the phone
rang. Judy called me up to give me the latest updates on Andrea which I'd
asked her to do. That interrupted things for a while as Judy explained
that Andrea was being removed from her father's custody, at least
temporarily. What I wasn't prepared for was when she asked me if Andrea
could stay with me for a couple of days while she figured out just where to
put her. She apologized, saying she and Art were having some remodeling
done and for the rest of the week their whole family was going to be in
sleeping bags in the living room, and there simply were no other beds
available as the only group home within reasonable distance was already out
of space. While I'd known about the remodeling, I hadn't realized it was
going to be quite that extensive. A little more discussion on the subject
and I offered them the use of the trailer until their house was a little
more under control. That took even more discussion as she said they didn't
have any place to park it because of the construction equipment filling all
the available parking area. We worked out a compromise where she agreed to
use the trailer and it could stay in the shop. There was a small bathroom
built into the shop, and both power and water to hook to the trailer so it
appeared like that might be a workable solution. Once that was decided, I
had to get busy and make sure that all the bedding and stuff was back in
its place in the trailer, so the food conversation with Kath was delayed.
The clincher for Judy had been my assurance that there was not only the
queen-sized main bed, but also two other beds that could be made up so
Andrea could stay with them until something else could be worked out. I
did learn that the contractor had promised that their bedrooms would be
usable by Friday night so it should only be three nights that the Smellings
would need the trailer.
With all that talking and getting the trailer ready, I didn't have
time to get back to the food issue. About all I had time for was to tell
Kath I would do the cooking tomorrow night and not to worry about it. She
didn't act real happy with that, but too many other things were happening
for me to take time to explain it any better. Besides, I was wimping out
as I still hadn't figured out just how to handle the whole thing. I knew I
could just tell her how it had to be since I had hired her, but I was
hoping to come up with a less confrontational or authoritarian manner in
which to present it. I would much rather handle it in a way that didn't
bruise any feelings.
To be continued...
Back to cooking class. Be warned that reading recipes might make
you hungry. Anyhow, pot roast is the subject and nothing could be easier.
However, it does take some time to cook a good pot roast. First you need a
pot roast. I personally think chuck roasts make the best pot roasts. Get
a big one because you can make a stew out of the leftovers. Now if the pot
roast is big you will probably need to use a roaster, but somewhat smaller
ones can be cooked in a dutch oven. Turn the oven up to three-fifty and
let it warm up while you brown your pot roast.
Take your roaster or dutch oven and put it on top of the stove,
turn the burner on high, and when hot, add a couple tablespoons of oil of
some kind. Then brown your pot roast well on as many sides as you can.
With a flat type roast, like a 7 bone chuck, you will only be able to brown
the two sides, but other shapes may allow you to brown it all over. Once
you have browned it nicely it is time for the liquid.
While you can use water, I like using something that adds to the
flavor a little, so what I do is get some packages of Au Jus mix at the
store. I use quite a bit of Au Jus mix and so buy it in large containers
at places like Costco, but a couple of packages from the market will do the
job. A typical package makes 2 cups of Au Jus, but for this I mix it about
half strength and so a package will make four cups of liquid. That may be
enough for your pan or it may take both packages to make enough. You can
use a little more liquid and make it third strength so don't really worry
about it. To that Au Jus mix I add one half of a medium yellow onion per
package of Au Jus mix. So if you can get by with one package, use ˝ an
onion. Then depending on how well you like garlic, add a couple or more
peeled cloves and throw both the onion and garlic in a food processor and
let it run until you can pour the garlic onion mix into the Au Jus. I like
garlic and it is going to cook for a long time so I will use five or six
nice sized cloves. Grind a bunch of black pepper into the mix and add a
few glug's of red wine, like a third to a half cup or thereabouts per
package of Au Jus. The last thing is add a two or three tablespoons of
sugar to the mix depending on if you used one or two packages of the mix.
For one package I only use two scant tablespoons, and for two packages of
Au Jus, three, or even sometimes four if I need a lot of liquid. You want
enough liquid to come up to at least the middle of the pot roast and
two-thirds is even better. Pour the liquid over the pot roast, put the
cover on and pop it in the oven. Let it cook for a half hour or so at
three-fifty and then turn the oven down to three hundred or so. You can
cook it at three hundred the whole time but it will take a little longer,
or you can bring it up to a boil on the top of the stove and just use a
three hundred degree oven. You can even cook it at three-fifty the whole
time but you will have to add more liquid if you do. Once it is all in the
pan, you only add water, not more of the Au Jus mix. Since the Au Jus has
salt in it you won't need to add any salt at this time. However, you can
add various spices if you'd like. I frequently add about a tablespoon of
dried basil, a scant teaspoon of thyme, a heaping teaspoon of marjoram, and
sometime some cayenne, like about a teaspoon if I decide I'd like a little
bite to it. You can also use some paprika or whatever turns your crank.
You are going to cook the sucker for two to three hours depending
on the size and shape. A somewhat thin flat one will take a little over
two hours and thick ones longer. Anyhow, about every half hour or so turn
the pot roast over, adding water as needed to keep the liquid level up. To
get your pot roast nice and tender you have to get its internal temperature
up to boiling and then keep it there for about an hour. If you do that
your pot roast will be nice and tender and you can even chew the gristle.
I normally try to buy thick pot roasts so they usually take about
three hours to cook. About forty-five minutes before it is supposed to be
done I add a bunch of baby peeled carrots and a package of frozen boiling
onions to the liquid. Since I like carrots cooked in the liquid I add a
pretty big bunch of them, but suit yourself. If you don't like carrots,
don't use them. About a half hour before it is done add some potatoes
peeled and cut in half lengthwise. When the roast is cooked and nice and
tender, remove the vegetables and the roast. Thicken the liquid for gravy
and there you have it, pot roast with vegetables. I thicken with a
flour-water mixture but you can also use cornstarch or other thickeners.
Be sure to check the gravy and add any necessary salt and pepper, although
it shouldn't require much salt.
You can add all kinds of things to your pot roast, such as
mushrooms, celery, turnips, rutabaga, or about anything you like and think
would go well. A lot of people like to add some cabbage wedges but I don't
really care for cooked cabbage so I don't. I also don't add turnips
because I don't like cooked turnips. Instead I eat my turnips raw. I
occasionally throw some Brussels sprouts in if I have them, and the
mushrooms are a frequent addition. For Brussels sprouts I add them at the
same time I add the carrots and onions, and the mushrooms I add them when I
add the potatoes. I serve the pot roast on a platter, the potatoes in one
serving bowl, the rest of the vegetables in another, and the gravy in third
bowl or gravy boat. While it might not be the most attractive meal in the
world, it is mighty fine eating.
Waldorf salad, in its original form, was nothing more than diced
apples, diced celery, and mayonnaise. Sometime in about the 1920's walnuts
were added and have been there every since, including at the Waldorf Hotel.
Some people add a lot of other things to it, but about all I ever add are
some grapes, and I really dislike it when someone adds miniature
marshmallows. However, some people appear to like it that way, just not
me. Anyhow it is nice and easy to make.
Take some good eating apples and core and dice them into about a
half-inch dice, maybe slightly smaller. Don't peal them, just core them
and hack them up. Wash some ribs of celery and dice it in about the same
size pieces. Red apples look a little better so I generally use something
like Gala, Fuji, Macintosh, or something on that order, and sometimes I use
a mix of apples, like a few golden delicious added to the red ones. I also
squeeze the juice of half a lemon over the diced apples and toss them to
keep them from them turning brown, but if the apples are pretty tart, you
may wish to skip that step. If you don't use lemon juice, fix the apples
last so they don't turn brown while dicing the celery. If I add grapes to
it I always cut the grapes in half. Your proportions are two cups diced
apples, about one and one half cups diced celery, one cup of grapes cut
into two pieces, a half cup of coarsely chopped walnuts, or you can use
pecans but I like the walnuts better, and about two-thirds cup of
mayonnaise. You need enough mayonnaise to coat everything. If your apples
are too tart, sprinkle just a little sugar over them, along with the lemon
juice, and let stand for twenty minutes or so in the refrigerator before
assembling the salad, but that shouldn't be necessary unless using very
tart apples. Be sure to drain any liquid that might run out of the apples
if you put sugar on them. You shouldn't need much over a tablespoon or so
of sugar for that, and you should only need about the juice of a half
lemon, like a couple of teaspoons or so. You can also use a product such
as Fruit-Fresh in place of the lemon juice. For Fruit-Fresh or even with
lemon juice you can mix it with water, dip your diced apples in it, and
then drain well. To assemble the salad, toss everything together, adding a
little more mayonnaise if needed, to coat everything. To serve, take a
salad plate, put a big lettuce leaf on it, and spoon a serving of the salad
onto the leaf. Some people sprinkle a few additional chopped walnuts on to
make it look nice, and some people add a maraschino cherry to the top for
similar reasons. I must admit that the cherry looks nice, but the dang
things are just sweet and tasteless. My thought is that the maraschino
cherries are better used in cocktails. For some reason a little gin seems
to improve those cherries a whole bunch, and even bourbon or rum really
helps them, so I never put maraschino cherries on my Waldorf salad, but
instead use them in cocktails.
If you use a product such as Fruit-Fresh to keep your apples from
browning, you can dice the apples several hours in advance. You can also
use a vitamin C tablet dissolved in some water in place of lemon juice or
Fruit-Fresh with about the same results. Such treatments also work well on
avocados and bananas, and other fruits that turn dark. If I'm preparing
the salad several hours in advance I will use the dipping method to make
sure that all surfaces of the diced apple have been treated. If using
lemon juice, that will require more lemon juice than if just drizzling it
over the diced apples and tossing. After a quick dip I drain and then put
them in a container with several layers of paper towels on the bottom to
absorb any moisture that didn't drain off and store them in the fridge
until dinner. While you can prepare everything in advance, the salad is
best when assembled shortly before eating. If I'm entertaining I will dice
everything in the afternoon, but won't assemble the salad until twenty
minutes or less before serving. If you assemble the salad too soon the
walnuts tend to become soggy and the mayonnaise runny. I have also been
known to garnish it with a few small cubes of sharp cheddar cheese which I
like very well, and the cheese has a much better flavor than those
tasteless cherries.
Lastly, take any leftover pot roast and cut into bite sized pieces
and do the same with the potatoes and anything else that might need it. If
I don't happen to have any boiling onions on hand, I just take regular
yellow onions and peel and quarter them and treat them like the boiling
onions when cooking the pot roast, so you might have to break the onions
apart a little if you used that kind. Put everything, including the gravy
back in a kettle and you have your stew for the second night. Just heat
and serve. Some good French bread or sourdough French bread and butter go
well with either, along with a red wine. I would serve a Syrah, a Pinot
Noir, or a Cabernet Sauvignon with either the pot roast or stew. And yes,
some people label their Syrah as Shiraz. Australia makes some excellent
Shirazes at very reasonable prices, fully as good as the California or
French ones in my arrogant opinion.