Date: Mon, 7 Oct 2002 18:01:14 -0500
From: Gary <gary_q@hotmail.com>
Subject: Patient John Doe Chapter 24

Patient John Doe
By Gary_Q
Gary_Q@hotmail.com

The below story is a work of fiction, as stated in the previous chapters:
all copyrights from apply, as does my prohibition to this work being linked
to any pay web sites.

If you are just joining this story, please note the DEDICATION of it,
stated in Chapter One.

As always I thank my good friend Miguel Sanchez,
miguel_sanchez55@hotmail.com for his help in developing this work.  (Julio,
of course, is now the mature Doctor Jay Sanchez in this story).

			    Chapter Twenty Four

     I had to look away to keep from laughing out loud when the boys came
down the stairs after getting dressed the next morning.  Steve and Johnny
were wearing their new, hip hugging Levis.  Junior and my other two were
wearing equally form fitting jeans and tee-shirts, along with wide western
style belts I knew were not Ronnie and Mark's.  `Well, if they decide to be
red necks it wouldn't be all bad!' I told myself as I watched them scamper
outside, their tight round backsides wonderfully emphasized by their pants,
their thin waists and chests highlighted by their shirts.
     `SOMEONE else is driving this beast home, NOT me!' I decided as I
turned the big Hummer into Santo's gate.  `This isn't a car, it's a God
Damn leather cushioned Tank!'  As soon as I started up the driveway all the
boy began jerking against their seat belts as they tried to look over the
numerous animals romping in the fields next to us.
     "Wow! Are those real cowboys!?!" Steve hooted. I glanced to my side to
see a couple of ranch hands, wearing jeans and cowboy hats riding among a
group of animals.
     "Steven! You know better than that!  NEVER when the car is moving!"
his dad barked. When I glanced into the rear view mirror his son had either
released his seat restraints or torn them out of the floorboard, and was
sprawled across Junior's lap, his face pushed against the Hummer's side
window.
     "But! I mean yes sir," Steve cried. After a quick glance to make sure
I wasn't going to run into anything I looked back into the mirror, our
young guest had slipped a couple of inches away from the window, his narrow
head oscillating between the window and his dad.
     Immediately after I stopped the Hummer doors started bursting open,
all the kids climbing over seats and each other as they bailed out, dashing
to the pasture fence.  Young Steve had already sprang up two or three rungs
of the pasture fence when I caught up to him, grabbing him by his thick
belt and plucking him off the fence.  "Be still," I told him in a soft
voice e as I pulled his thin, squirming frame against my stomach and
chest. When I glanced behind me thankfully the boy's father was almost
equally hypnotized by our surroundings.
     "Listen, listen to me," I quietly barked into his ear as I wrapped
both arms around his tight chest and pulled him more tightly against me.  "
I want you to calm down, you are to stay RIGHT next to Ronnie, you are to
do anything he says," I told him.  I ignored his stiffening shoulders and
neck and added, ""It's better than getting hurt, or your dad ripping you a
new ass-hole." I gave him another hug and tucked the top of his head under
my chin for reinforcement.
     "Yeah dude, chill!" my Ronnie added, pushing against us as he pushed
his arm between my stomach and his friend's waist. Ronnie flashed a bright
silver smile up at me as his eyes told me `Got ya' covered, Dad.'
     "I promise you will have a good time, but, well, , , chill, horses are
wonderful creatures, but they are very big animals, it would break my heart
if you got hurt son," I told Steve.  Without realizing it I kissed the top
of my youngest guest's head before adding, "Stay cool, okay?"  He leaned
against me and grasp my forearm, pulling it more tightly against his thin
chest as his response.
     "Thanks Adam," Steven whispered as I joined the others.  "I was trying
to think of a way to calm him down without embarrassing him.  I think here
he is referred to as a Green Horn?"  I had to search my mental archives,
but remember hearing the term in a few very old western movies.
     "Good morning Doctor Owens!" Santos exclaimed as Steven and I joined
the other adults.  "Doctor Robertson, Mrs Robertson, how wonderful to see
you again!" he continued, flashing his best salesmen smile.
     "And a good morning to you, Mister Santos!" Cindy answered before I
could.  "Thank you so much for remembering us, but our name is ROBERTS!"
she corrected as she gave him a warm grin.  "These are our friends, and
Doctor Owens new neighbors.  May I present Ronnie and Steven Sanchez, and
their father Miguel."
     `Oh boy, she brought her lawyer suit,' I thought.  `Did she prep
them?' I wondered as Miguel, then his sons fell right into line, seeming to
accept her casualness using their first names.
     "Buens das amigo!" Santos said with a wide grin.
     "I'm sorry, we are from Virginia, we speak very little Spanish,"
Miguel answered.  From his grin I could tell he was bull-shiting a fellow
bull-shiter. `Good luck, you pirate,' I thought of Santos.
     When I glanced around as we followed Santos toward one of his corrals,
Johnny and Mark were in one of the larger pens near us, walking in the
middle of the twenty or so horses in it, chatting and petting with them
like they were school chums.  `Oh boy,' I thought as I saw Junior, my
Ronnie and Stevie walking to join us. Little Steve had his thumbs tucked
inside the top of his jeans right against his pelvic bones, walking with an
almost bowlegged, cowboy gait that would have made John Wayne blush with
jealously.  `If he says You all, we're all in trouble,' I told myself.
     Santos had, as usual, cut out some beautiful animals for us to choose
from. He had a dozen mares in coral, all of them all but perfect specimens,
as well developed as they were tempered.  Steven, Cindy and I spent ten
minutes or so looking them over before agreeing on eight we would like to
ride and evaluate a little closer.  I rode a couple of them while Cindy
rode the others, finally Steven, his son and the kids rode them.  I was
starting to wonder if I had judged Santos money hungry, con man attitude,
wrongly.
     "Tell me, Doctor, did the little red filly survive?" he asked as he
stepped next to me.  "Did you have time to get her to auction, or did you
have to put her down?"  I just had time to turn toward him, trying to
believe what I was hearing when he added, "And the little cripple, the boy
with the game leg, what did you do with him?"
     I didn't realize I had chocked my fist back and was about to deck him
until a hand grasp my wrist, slightly knocking me off balance as it
restrained me.  "Steven wants you to look at one of the horses again,"
Cindy said, squeezing my wrist harder.
     "I'd liked your opinion too," Miguel whispered, stepping between
Santos and I.
     "Chill, Adam, jail garb would not become you," Cindy whispered as they
hustled me away.
     "I'm going to kill that wet back son-of-a-bitch!" I retorted.
     "Okay, you are welcome to!" Cindy tittered. "But do it with your
degree, I would suggest a ripping assault on his bank book. Do your thing,
right in the ear about these horses, like you did for us."  "Drop that on
him as the coup-d-gras," she added, pointing toward Johnny, galloping one
of the horses we were considering.
     "Know I know what Hollywood means by a Horse Trader," Steven said when
we joined us. "Cindy filled us in.  These are excellent horses, in perfect
condition, but when that man dies they won't bury him, just auger him into
the ground like a corkscrew."
     "You have made excellent choices, the best young Arabian mares I
have!"  Santos announced from behind us.  "If you buy all eight of them
today, I'll let them go for, say, nine each.  Because the Sanchez' are just
starting out, I will even offer them a discount for stud service from any
of my stallions."  He paused for several seconds before adding, "To help
you get started, I will have my Vet monitor them for, let's say, three
months!"
     "That is extremely generous of you, my friend!" I answered. "Your
support is anyway, but your price is out of the question." I let him stew,
and glare at me for the better part of a minute.  "Considering the number
of units, seven each. My stallion will stud them, and Steven is a
Veterinarian, he can provide any Veterinary services needed."  `Well, I got
your attention!' I thought as I watched his face tighten.
     "Seven is impossible, perhaps, let's say eight five."
     "Seven five each, paid right now. If you want a Texas bank you can
have my check, you damn sure know its good," I countered.  I enjoyed
watching dollar signs float out of his eyes into the air as his neck
stiffened.  "The Sanchez' and I are looking at another, almost thousand
acre plot, and several more animals soon, I hope we can rely on you as a
reasonable supplier!" I told him, offering what I hoped was as crocked
smile as he had offered me so many times.
     "Seven eight," he somewhat grumbled.
     "Seven six, my final offer.  Either the Sanchez' or I will cut you a
check for, well, I'll be fair about it, seventy thousand. You are
responsible for all the paperwork, and will deliver to my ranch.  I don't
want to upset my, breeding program, I will expect four horses this
afternoon, the other four tomorrow at eleven o'clock. Take it or leave it,
I'm getting hungry."  As I said the last phase, I remembered the golden
arches of McBarf, the only place to eat nearby.
     Santos face seemed to age as he considered my ultimatum, but
agreed. We all turned back toward the vehicles, but I stopped him and
turned him back toward the corral, and the kids still riding the Sanchez
new horses.  "Oh, and thank you for asking," I told him.  "The little
crippled boy you asked about, the one with the gimp leg?  He's the carrot
topped boy racing the fifteen hand mare toward us!" I decided to let him
squirm and ignored his queries about Ginger.
     As we walked out of McDonald's, I was still trying to think of a
tactful way out of driving Sanchez tank back to the ranch, when Miguel
unwittingly came to my rescue, asking if I would mind if he drove, wanting
to try out his sons' new vehicle.  `Yeah well,' I thought as I watched the
big vehicle's speedometer climb to slightly over eighty miles-an-hour.
"The newer year model does handle better than mine," the elderly Doctor
commented as he sat the cruise control, leaned back in his seat and steered
with one hand.
     Knowing Santo's truck with the new horses would be arriving soon, I
used a little manipulation as we neared the ranch to convince the boys to
go say hello to our horses, then go for a swim before they rode.  `You're a
clever devil,' I praised myself as a couple at a time their speedo clad
little bodies rushed through the family room into the pool a couple of
minutes later.  `Their not about to go to the pasture wearing those,' I
praised myself.
     Carl and grabbed a beer, as did Ronnie. Cindy and Steven opted for
iced tea as we began discussing plans for offloading and integrating the
horses, and supper plans.  As we talked something didn't seem right, and it
took me a minute or so to realize the patio was far too quiet, no giggles
or screeches that always accompanied a hackle of kids swimming, not even
any splashes of water were to be heard.  I think Cindy's motherly instinct
picked up on the problem at the same time I did as we simultaneously turned
toward the back door.
     "Well, that explains it, I take it Mary has been here," I told Cindy
as we looked out the door.  All five boys were huddled in front of my
barbeque pit, leaning forward and peering inside as my Ronnie held the lid
open an inch or so.  Almost as if taking turns one, then another of them
rolled his head back slightly as his thin chest expanded; I couldn't help
wondering if the puddles of liquid below them was water that had dripped
from their wet bodies or drool dripping from their mouths.
     As soon a I opened the door the same wonderful aroma that I'm sure had
attracted their attention drew me to the pit, and the huge brisket smoking
on it.
     "Wow, Dad, maybe we should taste it, I mean make sure it's cooking
okay," Mark suggested.
     "Yeah!" Johnny and Junior added in unison.
     "Well, I'm sure Mary is cooking it," I answered.  "If you are willing
to explain to her why you disturbed it, without her permission, go ahead."
Their necks snapped side to side so fast I felt my neck stiffen as they
repeatedly exchanged glances, before Ronnie gently closed the lid.
     "I would be willing to bet there are some sandwich makings in the
kitchen," Cindy suggested.  My neck cramped slightly as their's jerked
around in another silent conference before they darted into the house, all
ten little bare feet skidding as they turned toward the kitchen.  "We
should have thought ahead," Cindy quipped.  "They only had two Big Macs and
Malts each, and that was almost an hour ago!"
     "You forgot about the large fries, and McCookies or whatever those
things were," I jested.
     I resisted the urge to pat myself on the back a few minutes later when
the new horses arrived. As planned, Cindy and I went into the pasture while
Steven opened the pasture gate for the truck. Although I was sure the boys'
stomach's would keep them so occupied they would never notice us, Carl,
Miguel and Ronnie positioned themselves at the bottom of my yard in case
any of the lads tried to enter the pasture while we unloaded.
     `Yeah!' I thought as I watched my big stallion.  As soon as he saw the
trailer he perked up like a colt, prancing toward his big Christmas present
on wheels.  The mares formed a loose formation behind their stud, and for a
minute or so and seemed calm, watching the goings on.
     I started to worry a little as Cindy and the driver led the four mares
out of the trailer, when Zoe lowered her head, tucked her ears back
somewhat, and began slowly walking toward the trailer.  I blocked her
before she got too close, and stroked her neck and snout as I talked to
her, trying to keep her calm.
     Just as I began to feel comfortable with her, a loud nay rang out from
my herd of mares, and Ginger darted from the middle of them at a full
gallop.  "Cindy!  Problem coming!" I called out as I realized the filly was
going to successfully dodge me.  `Oh shit,' I thought as Zoe bolted and
raced toward Ginger, who was charging at full speed toward the new horses.
     "NO! Back away, she can be aggressive!  Ginger can be aggressive!" I
barked as moved to make a last attempt to block the little filly.
"Everyone back away, now," I ordered when I saw Steven race toward the
seemingly imminent confrontation.
     "Get back here young man!" I heard big Ronnie's voice from behind me.
     "Steven, all you, come here NOW!" Miguel's voice thundered.
     `No, oh God no!' I thought as I turned and saw five semi-naked boys,
wearing only their speedos and sandals, running toward the impending
carnage.  `After getting this far, I'm going to die in a horse fight,' I
thought as I raced toward the trailer.
     Ginger didn't slow her pace until she was only a few feet from the new
horses.  As she almost skidded to a stop, she pushed her nose under the
neck of one of the new animals; to my complete surprise the larger horse
twisted her neck around and pushed her snout against Ginger, and the two
horses began sniffing and rubbing against each other.  I began to slow my
pace to a sprint as a second new horse snorted and pushed against Ginger,
seeming to join into their greeting.
     Johnny cut his sandals into the turf, skillfully dodged both Cindy and
Steven, and slammed into his filly, hugging her neck. I slowed to a jog
when the new horses snorted then sniffed his thin body, accepting his one
armed snuggles.
     "Yeah, it's totally awesome, you don't gotta live at that place or
nothing no more.  Its totally neat here! It is, that's Zoe, she's like a
mom, and Zeus he's gonna be like your dad some," I heard him tell his new
friends as I approached.  "Here, you guys hungry?" he added.. I had to take
a deep breath to keep from gaging when my new son pulled the crushed
remains of a sandwich from his right armpit, took a bite of it, and offered
it to the horses.  `Yes, I did buy a Nut Farm,' I told myself as I watched
one, then the next horse sample the snack.
     "Hi Pop!" Johnny hooted when he saw me.  "This is Ginger's bud!  Well
they were buds when they lived there, at that place," he told me pointing
at one of the new mares.  He stuffed the last little bite of his
`sandwich', that was stuck between his fingers into his mouth before
informing the new horse, "That's my pop, I mean my new dad."
     "They was best friends, ever since Ginger was a baby.  I mean every
since she was.  Her name is," he paused, looking at his filly for a second.
"Well, she don't know how to say it in people, ah, I mean English, but it's
sorta like Raven."  He looked back at Ginger for an instant.  "Well, they
don't gotta go back there or stuff do they? I mean the don't have'ta."
     "No, you can tell Ginger her friends are going to live here, well
actually next door, for a very long time," Steven injected, wrapping his
arm around Johnny's bony shoulder.
     Ginger let out a loud snort before Johnny could respond. `Is this shit
real, or a flashback? My dad told me not to smoke that shit!' I thought as
all the horses pranced and nayed as if celebrating a homecoming. `This has
got to be a flashback,' I thought as Zeus pushed his snout against my
chest.
     "Did I really hear what I thought I did?" Steven asked me as the boys
and horses greeted their new friends.
     "Welcome to my nuttiness," I snickered.  "I hope you don't think I'm
totally insane, but I am convinced that conversation really occurred."
     "I have no doubt it did, I wish I could believe my ears!  Well, we
have found a name for one of them!" he answered.
     I managed to call the boys back as they and their four legged fan club
started toward the barn, reminding them speedos and leather saddles might
not be a good combination.  After a brief discussion with the horses, all
the youngsters rushed to the house.
     `Hum,' I thought as we entered the house a couple of minutes behind
the kids.  Mary and Steve were seemingly facing each other off at the
bottom of the stairs, the youngster with his hands on his bony hips.
     "How could you do that! I don't have any Levis, now I cant go
horseback riding!" Stevie barked with all the hostility his alto voice
could muster.  "My MOM could have washed them!" he growled as my Ronnie
stepped between them, his face telling his friend to calm down.  I managed
to signal the boy's dad not to interfere as he started toward the
confrontation.
     "I checked your closet before I put them into the washer, you have
other jeans here," Mary countered.
     "But they're not TEXAS jeans! I cant wear them here, I'm
scre. . . thanks a lot!"
     "Well, I'm very sorry, it was not my intention to ruin your afternoon,
I am so very sorry," Mary answered, giving him a very earnestly distressed
face.  "All I was thinking about was how much better Texas Levis wash in
Texas washing machines," she added, offering an agonizing expression that
could have earned her an Academy Award.
     The youngster's face changed from an angry snarl to a confused look as
he studied Mary's face.  `Shit, she should be an actor,' I thought as I
watched Mary's sincere, grand motherly expression.  Stevie glanced between
my Ronnie and Mary several times.
     "Oh," he mumbled several seconds later.  "I didn't know that.  Will
they be better?  I mean, thank you ma'am.  Well and I will have some all
clean for tomorrow!"  He blushed and started back toward the stairs, but
turned back.  "Thanks ma'am, you're an neat granny!" he hooted, flashing my
nanny a wide smile before he darted upstairs.
     Almost immediately after Ronnie and Steve reached the top of the
stairwell Johnny, Junior and Mark raced down the stairs, through the family
room and out the back door toward the pasture. All the adults teased Mary
about her people skills, and unique clothes washing techniques as Cindy and
I served everyone drinks.
     My Ronnie and Steve flew down the stairs just a we were starting
toward the patio.  Steve was about half way through the family room when he
turned back, and rushed into my laundry room. A couple of seconds later he
reappeared, and gave Mary a quick hug before darting out the door.  "I hope
you realize, he might start Fedex-ing his laundry down here!" Steven told
us as we moved to the patio.
     Everyone had just begun to relax when the kids rushed back up the
hill, their concerned faces announcing another problem. Cindy giggled aloud
as we realized we had made the same mistake she had a few weeks ago; that
we an added between today and tomorrow eight additional horses, and no
saddles or tack for them.  The other adults and I exchanged unhappy
glances, none of wanting to drive back into town again, but I managed to
convince the boys to ride with the tack we had. After Ronnie and Miguel
assured them they would buy more equipment tomorrow, they seemed satisfied.
     All of them started back toward the pasture, but Stevie turned back
and pushed against my arm.  "Are we going to the rodeo store, Pop?"  He
glanced toward his dad then back at me.
     "Why, did you decide you like that pony blanket I picked out for you?
We can stop by and pick it out if you like!" I answered.  "You could wear
it home!" I teased, popping him on the backside.  He gave me a dirty look
before rushing off.
     A couple of hours after supper, our day began catching up with my
body, and my eyelids.  Shortly after the kids crawled into their mass nest
everyone seemed to be as tired as I was, and when I suggested they make
themselves at home and stay up, they were inside and heading upstairs to
bed before I could excuse myself.  After laying back on my pillow I looked
out my patio door for a minute or so, admiring the star filled sky through
my patio door then drifted into a blissful slumber.
     "Dad, please Dad," an alto voice that I thought might be Mark's voice
forced me back toward consciousness.  I was wondering, or really hoping, it
was part of my dream when I felt a thin hand shake my shoulder.  "Dad, you
gotta wake up, Johnny hurt his arm!"
     Whatever sleepiness was still clouding my mind cleared instantly as I
flipped around in my bed, and my forehead collided with a metal object
hovering above me.  "Ouch!" Mark cried as my eyes focused on his facebow, a
couple of inches from my head.
     "Where is Johnny, is he okay?" I asked the reflection of silver teeth
moving away from me. "Are you okay?" I added as I tossed the covers off my
body and rubbed my forehead.
     "It's okay Pop, it just hurts sorta," Johnny's voice added.  "I told
him not to screw with you sir!"
     "No, no Pumpkin, come here," I uttered at the thin shadow sitting at
the foot of my bed.  "Come here Son, what's wrong," I added as I sat up and
extended an arm toward him.  My face tightened as I saw the anxiety in his
face as he slid toward me.  "How did you hurt yourself, did you fall or
something?" I asked as I wrapped my arm around his tight waist.
     "I just hurts some is all, I think it's mad at me," he whined.  He let
out a whimper when I tried to slip my fingers under his left hand,
supporting and protecting his right elbow and forearm.
     I reached over and turned on a bedside lamp.  "Show me where it
hurts," I instructed, pulling my hand away.  "It's okay Pumpkin, Dad just
wants to help," I reassured him, pulling him into a closer cuddle.
     After a little coaxing from me, he looked between Mark and I a couple
of times.  My eyes bugged and chin dropped as he mumbled, "Well, sorta
here, and here," pointing at his paralyzed elbow and biceps.  "And some
here," he added, pointing at his forearm muscles.
     "It's okay, I wont hurt you, I promise," I reassured him as I reached
for his arm.  "How did you hurt it? What happened?" I asked both he and
Mark as I carefully checked his limb for obvious injuries.
     "I didn't do nothing or nothing Pop, I just was sleeping and it got
pissed off and stuff!"  Johnny whimpered.  "I mean it got mad," he
corrected.
     "We were asleep and he started crying is all, Dad," Mark injected.
`Wow,' I thought as I prodded out of Mark that he and Johnny were snuggled
against each other, and Johnny started moaning, then sobbing; he confirmed
that Johnny had not injured his arm in his sleep.
     I fought back both tears and my urge to smile as I satisfied myself
there was no new trauma to his arm.  `Wow is a poor description, I think
the kids say, , , Awesome!' I told myself as I realized what was going on
with his arm.
     "I don't think you hurt your arm, I think it is, sore," I told my
frightened pair of boys.  "I want you to take some medicine for me, and
Mark is going to go get your, arm splint," I said toward Mark.  "I want you
to wear it at least for tonight.  You lay back while I get your pills," I
told Johnny, guiding him to lean back onto my bed.  "I'll tell you what is
going on in just a minute, I promise good news," I grinned at him, unable
to hide my emotions. I rushed toward the medicine cabinet in my bathroom
but turned and went to my safe and prepared an injection.
     Mark was already strapping his brother into Johnny's shoulder
immobilizer when I returned to the bedroom.  "Okay guys, would you like me
to tell you what is going on?" I asked sitting next to them.
     "Well, it still hurts!" Johnny mumbled.
     "I know, and it breaks my heart that your arm is sore, but will you
listen to me? Let me tell you what I think is going on?" I asked, picking
him up and perching him on my lap.  I instantly had another bony kid on my
other knee, hugging his brother.
     "When is the last time your arm hurt, Son?" I asked Johnny.  "Before
you were, , , hurt, right?"  Both boys just stared at me wide eyed as their
response.  "What I think is going on is, that your arm is starting to get
some, well, feeling back!  Where you showed me hurts are muscles, like," I
started to reach to point at his arm, but when he stiffened I pointed
toward Mark's biceps.
     "That's a great big muscle group, well will be if you ever quit being
a skinny kid!" I said, poking Mark's bony arm, then his tight stomach.  I
let both boys giggle for a second before continuing, "Hey guys, think about
it, are Johnny's muscles getting sore because they are learning to work
again?  Remember when you exercise too hard, , , like play real hard, and
your muscles are really sore later?
     "That is what is happening to your arm Son!  Your surgery is working,
your muscles are starting to work!"
     "Yeah!" Mark exclaimed, hugging Johnny and I.
     "But it still hurts," Johnny countered.
     "It wont for long, not for tonight," I told him.  "But, isn't it going
to be neat when you can feel things, like this?" I quipped, gently punching
his left, working shoulder.  "Or this?" I asked, pinching the same arm.
     "Pop!" he complained.  He pulled his shoulder away from me just after
I pulled the syringe out of his arm.
     "I'm teasing, I didn't hurt you!" I teased, kissing his cheek as I
softly tickled his stomach.  "Let's get some sleep, I bet you will feel
better very soon."
     "What about the medicine, don't I gotta take them?" Johnny asked.
     I started to send them back into the family room, but shifted him off
my lap onto my bed.  "You lay here for a few minutes, if you still think
you need some medicine I'll get it for you," I grinned, stuffing him under
the blankets.  "You too," I told Mark.  I couldn't resist gesturing the
spent syringe toward his wide eyed face as I stood up to dispose of it, and
he dove under the blankets.
     Johnny was sound asleep, tightly snuggled against a lump in the covers
I was sure was Mark when I sat back down on my bed. "Good night guys,
thanks so much for giving me a great night" I whispered as I kissed each of
them.  I watched Johnny's pixie little nose and the inch or so of his
strawberry hair, the only part of him not under the covers, reflection in
the soft light from outside until I slipped back to sleep.
     I wasn't sure if the voices I heard were part of a dream or not that
interrupted my slumber. I ignored them and had almost melted back into
sleep when I recognized Miguel's voice saying, "They are safe, they are in
there."
     "I wonder where they keep the coffee grounds, we have almost
completely drained his caffre," I heard his son answer.
     `Yeah well,' I told myself, waking up enough to vaguely remember I had
house guests.  As the incident with Johnny's arm rang back into my mind, I
forced one eye open, and relaxed when it focused enough to find a few
strands of carrot top fir reflecting in the morning sunlight.  Mark seemed
to announce himself as he buried his head more tightly against my chest.
`Yeah, Johnny's arm,' I thought.  I carefully reached over Mark's thin
chest toward my newest son.
     `Where is his immobilizer?" I wondered as I cupped a bony upper arm,
then shoulder.  I gingerly probed it for a few seconds, thrilled not to
find any swelling.  `Good, he has even grown some muscle mass overnight!' I
thought.  `A LOT of muscle mass!  In, , , four hours?'
     `I should have know,' I silently snickered after I leaned up and saw
the row of hair tufts next to me.  `Well, at least they wore their
appliances!' I tittered as I saw glimpses of Ronnie and Junior's headgear
straps, mixed in with the batches of fir.  When I risked leaning up against
my pillow further my Ronnie, little Steve, and Junior were tightly snuggled
against each other, all of them tightly pushed next to Johnny.  `Yeah
well,' I thought as I relaxed against my pillow.
     I leaned back up when I realized the small patch of Johnny's head was
wearing something a little like Ronnie and Junior's headgear straps.
`Well, the gang's all here!' I told myself as I again surveyed the small,
black, leather-like nostrils, lined in fine black puppy fir pushed against
the back of Johnny's head.  "Hi Buddy!" I mumbled as I reached under the
covers and stroked his neck.
     "Hi Dad!" came an immediate answer.
     `I quit!  I HAVE lost it!' I told myself.  I took a deep breath and
let it out slowly before I risked another glance toward the little dog.
`Yeah well, you are getting close!' I cautioned my brain as I saw Junior's
button nose and silver smile looking back at me.
      "Can we go swimming, please?" he begged in a high voice.  Stevie and
Ronnie's heads popped up out of the covers at the same time, giving me
wide, hopeful smiles.
     "Don't wake Johnny, his arm was bothering him last night," I mumbled
in a soft voice, my bladder informing me it was time to get up.
     `Yeah well, he's not too sore,' I told myself as all five boys, and
their puppy, bailed out of bed and darted out my bedroom door.  "Junior,
BOYS, TAKE OFF YOUR," I yelled after them, knowing I was too late.
"Heargear," I barked at my bathroom mirror as I rushed toward the toilet.
`Hey, Johnny is feeling better!' I thought as I drained my bladder and
began to wake up.
     I was two, maybe three steps out my bedroom door toward the pool, when
I realized that not only I was only wearing my briefs, but several of the
lounge chairs on my pool deck were occupied, and not with my kids.  I'm
sure my bare feet left skid-marks on the deck as I darted back into my
bedroom.
     "Good morning Adam!" Miguel greeted me when I stepped back onto the
deck in my swimming trunks.  I felt the heat of my red faced blush cool
slightly as he seemed not to notice my earlier appearance, and asked why
Johnny was wearing his immobilizer again.  Big Ronnie stepped onto the deck
carrying a tray with a pot of coffee and a spare cup as I filled Miguel in
on last night.
     "We have to call Jay," Ronnie commented as he handed me a cup of much
needed caffeine.  He refilled his dad's, then Steven's cup before sitting
down.  "That kind of news will float him on cloud nine," he told the pool.
     We were all silent for a minute or so as we followed his gaze and
watched Johnny and the other youngsters playing and giggling.  "I am, I
think I'm floating above it," I whispered as we watched Johnny's arm jerk
against his splint.
     "Tell me Adam, do you have a Passport?" Miguel asked.  "Forgive me for
being intrusive, I have a reason for asking."  I found myself wondering
where he was going as I glanced at his sons' faces, now surveying my face,
and answered I did not, that the only times I had left the US were day
trips across the Mexican border.
     "As you know, my family is very involved with a foundation that helps
underprivileged children in Brazil, and in South America.  Until now,
almost all our efforts have been directed toward providing shelter, medical
care and support to help them out of their circumstance.  Many of these
children are abandoned or homeless youth, many of them street kids, if you
will."
     "As were Jay, Ronnie and I, before Dad rescued us," Steven injected.
"And my wife, after we moved to Virginia."  I reflected back to Jay, big
Ronnie and my late night discussions on their beachfront deck about their
childhood, and the horrors they endured, as I digested his comments.
     "Is anyone hungry?" Mary's voice interrupted my thoughts.  "I've made
scrambled eggs and sausage, and fresh tortillas, but it's going to get cold
soon!"  She cut us a somewhat knowing smile as the boys flushed out of the
pool like a flock of ducks and darted inside.  `Whatever, she is pretty
good at cleaning the carpet,' I told myself as I looked at the trail of
water they left, that I was sure continued through my family room and over
its carpet.  She gave me another almost frighteningly knowledgeable smile
as she closed the patio door behind them.
     "Some of the children we help would blossom, like my sons have, if
they had the opportunity.  I am not an expert, but some of the children I
visit with when I am in Recefe, well around Brazil, and neighboring
countries, could thrive to their true potential, especially in loving homes
here in the States, with all the possibilities that would be available to
them here." Miguel told me.  "We are seriously considering a new branch of
the foundation, to seek out and provide homes here, in the states, to
accept some of they children that might benefit."
     "Great idea, I'm sure you could help a lot of kids, kids that need
help badly!" I commended them.  "Can I help in any way?"
     "Yes, you can," Miguel answered much more quickly than I felt
comfortable with.
     "Most of the kids we are talking about are, or were, street boys, like
I was," Ronnie said.  "Like my brothers and I were.  Although things are
much different in Brazil, subject to abuses not too unlike what your boys
endured before you rescued them."
     "Boys that have, understandably, not only psychological challenges,
but some have questions about their sexuality."  Steven added.
     I stared out at the pasture for a few seconds, trying to understand
what they were saying, or suggesting, when Miguel added, "We want to help
these kids, and many of them are gay, or might be. But, we need your help,
and would like to contract with you to evaluate them, to let us know who we
can help.  And to counsel those that would benefit."
     "You don't care who is gay, straight or green, you are the expert on
challenged kids, will you help?" Ronnie added.
     "The foundation will pay your hourly fee, and of course expenses and
travel," Miguel said.
     I digested their statements, trying to understand their proposal for
several seconds.  "It sounds like a most noble undertaking." I began.  I
thought a little more before continuing, "I am honored by your offer, but,
I'm not too comfortable this would be workable.  I have really just begun
my practice, my clinic is less than two years old, and far from paid for.
And, I'm, unwittingly, beginning family life, along with the ranch."  I
thought again briefly before announcing, "I would love to help your efforts
in any way I can, but not in the role you are suggesting."
     "I do not think you are evaluating our proposal correctly," Miguel
answered.  "If our plan progresses as we expect, the program would help
five, maybe six children per year.  We have enough influence with our State
Department, and other nations Foreign Ministries to bring most of the
children here to San Antonio for your evaluation and treatment if you feel
they need it.
     "I would guess you might need to travel two, possibly three times a
year, and only for a few days per trip."  I was digesting his statements
when he added, "Of course, as many of those trips as you wish would be
scheduled around school holidays, and your new sons would be welcome to
travel with you, at our expense. In our private jet of course."
     "Ah, let me think about all this," I more gasp than answered.
     "If things work out as expected, I think you would find the attorney
we hope to retain easy to work with," Ronnie commented.  His father's glare
told me he might have spoken out of turn.
     "I assure you a relationship with out foundation will not interfere
with your life, but enhance it." Miguel informed me.  "And that of your
beautiful children.  They are the reason we are making this offer."
     "Thank you, but I must think about this," I answered.  "I have Ronnie
and Jay's Virginia numbers, and e-mail, can I contact you through them,
perhaps later in the week?"
     I relaxed a little when Miguel said he didn't want to rush me, to take
my time.  I thought I had talked my way out of trouble, at least for now,
when he added, "I will be in San Antonio for a few days.  Or, until I have
your committment."

To Be Continued. . .