Date: Thu, 25 Jun 2009 23:18:29 EDT
From: Bwstories8@aol.com
Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening Chapter 3-4

Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 3 -- Getting To Know You.

**Author's Note:** Please read the disclaimer in Chapter 00 before you read
this.

We stopped at the supermarket on the way home and picked up two filet
mignons for me to fix.  I had meat in the freezer, but didn't want to make
him wait while it thawed out.  We were home in no time after that, but
Ricky still found time to tell me all about his day, while we were in the
store and in the car.  It seems he had done quite well, especially since
none of his teachers had any problems with him.

"You know, I'm very proud of you," I informed him, which caused him to turn
in my direction.

"How come?" he asked, puzzled.

"It's because you went a whole day without getting sent to my office."  He
grinned.

"I told you I was going to do better, and I did," he announced, proudly.  I
reached across the seat, tousled his hair and thanked him, just as we
pulled into our driveway.

While I fixed dinner, I told Ricky he could go outside and explore.  I
advised him that he should probably take a tour of the grounds, but I
didn't want him to go into the woods unless I was with him.  Other children
had become lost in there and I wanted him to get accustomed to that area
with me first, before I allowed him to enter it on his own.  I informed him
that there was also a very sudden and steep drop-off at one spot, which
formed the upper bank along the creek.  Falling off of that could cause
serious injury to anyone who had been unobservant or momentarily
distracted, and I preferred not to risk his safety like that.  He seemed
pleased that I would worry about him getting hurt and agreed to abide by my
restriction.  Before long, he was heading out the door, looking eagerly
toward this new adventure.

He returned about thirty minutes later, just as I was taking dinner off the
grill.  I asked him to go wash up, before he joined me in the dining room
to eat, and it didn't take long before he returned.  After looking him
over, I had to send him back, a second time, to do a little better job of
removing the dirt.  This time he returned clean and sporting a healthy
appetite.  He not only enjoyed his steak, but also consumed two baked
potatoes and had double helping of salad besides.  Once we were done
eating, he helped me take all of the dishes off the table, and then he
rinsed them and loaded them into dishwasher for me, while I cleaned up the
broiler pan and put everything else away.  What impressed me the most was
he had done his share of the work without any prompting from me.

When we had completed the clean-up process, I asked him if he had finished
all of his schoolwork and he quickly informed me that he had completed most
of it in the library.  He wanted to know if he could watch television after
he finished the rest of it and I immediately agreed he could.  He grabbed
his math book and set about working on the last of his problems at the
dining room table, but once he completed them, he came into the family room
and scooted beside me, on the sofa.  I was reading the newspaper, so I
reached over, grabbed the remote and handed it to him.  He eagerly took it
from me, made himself comfortable and then flipped on the TV.  It didn't
take him long to find something to watch, as he came across a movie, which
I agreed was suitable for him.  Then, I went back to my paper.

I read for about a half hour or so and when I finished, I set the paper
down.  The minute Ricky saw me finish reading; he slid closer and cuddled
against me.  I think he'd been waiting for me to get done, so he could do
this.  We stayed like that until the movie ended and I think we both
enjoyed the special closeness.

I was trying to think of other things he could do after dinner in the
future, seeing I didn't want him spending all of his time watching
television, so I asked him if he ever used the computers at school.  He
said he had and really enjoyed working on them, but added that he never had
enough time to do much.  I told him, that if he wanted, I would show him
how to use the computer in my office tomorrow, after dinner.  He
enthusiastically cheered and told me he'd like that, so I took it a step
further and informed him I'd make a special screen name for him on my
Internet account too.  He seemed thrilled by my offer and was soon hugging
me energetically.

Once he settled back down, we watched one more show together, with one of
my arms wrapped around his body and Ricky nestled snuggly against my side.
When the show ended, I told him it was time for bed, but I could tell from
his expression that he wasn't pleased.  He countered that he wasn't tired
yet, so I suggested he might like to read in bed for a while first.

"I don't like to read much," he stated, dryly.  "Besides, I don't got any
books."

"You don't HAVE any books," I corrected him.

"Yeah, that's what I said," he countered, and I recognized he missed my
point.  I was about to correct him, but felt it would be best to just let
this slide, because I had something more important to accomplish with him.

"I think I still have a collection of books that my children used to read,"
I told him.  "They should be in the closet in my office.  My children read
in their rooms quite often at night, especially the oldest and the
youngest.  The middle two didn't read quite as much, but they still read
some.  Why don't you like to read?" I pressed.  He looked up at me and his
expression told me he wasn't sure if he should be honest about this.
Instinctively, I tried to put him at ease.  "It's okay.  I was just
wondering," I added.

"It's all boring and dumb stuff," he finally responded.  I appreciated his
honesty and knew I would have to prove him wrong.

"Okay.  I can see why you might think that, if you've never read the right
books," I explained, causing him to stare at me, as he wondered where I was
going with this.  "Look, I'll make a deal with you," I continued.  "I'll
get one of the books from my office and read you a chapter a night before
you go to sleep.  If you don't like it, by the time I've finished the book,
I won't make you read on your own.  Deal?"  He studied me carefully for a
few seconds before answering.

"Yeah, that sounds okay," he finally conceded.  I wasn't sure if he really
wanted to hear the story or if it was just a way to get me off his back.
Then I had another thought; maybe he agreed to this because he just wanted
to spend the extra time with me.  Whatever his reason, I had my chance to
prove a point.

"You go upstairs, brush your teeth, go to the toilet and put on what you're
going to wear to bed," I advised him.  "While you're doing that, I'll go to
my office and find a book.  I'll meet you in your room in a few minutes."
He raced up the stairs and I headed for my office.  When I finally walked
into his bedroom a short time later, I was carrying a well- worn, taped
together, dog-eared copy of 'The Hobbit,' by J.R.R. Tolkien.  It had been
one of my children's favorites.  Ricky was already in his bed, so I sat
down beside him.  I opened to the first chapter, 'An Unexpected Party' and
began to read.  "In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit..."

Ricky paid close attention to the whole chapter, occasionally stopping me
to ask what a particular word meant.  He appeared smarter than I first
imagined, as I expected him to have a bit more difficulty with the
terminology that was used, but he did very well.

"Can you read another chapter, Dad?" he asked, once I finished and started
to set the book down.

"I can," I responded, "but the question should have been 'Would you read
another chapter?'  The answer to that question would be no, because it is
getting late."  He groaned hearing my reply, which indicated to me that I
was starting to get him hooked on books.

"It's time for you to go to sleep, but I'll read you another chapter
tomorrow evening."  I paused while I looked at him, trying to read his
reaction to my suggestion.

"Okay," he told me, with a certain amount of dejection still evident in his
tone.

Satisfied he wasn't going to throw a temper tantrum, I moved on to my next
concern.  "Ricky, do you say your prayers before going to sleep?"

He gave me a dirty look before he answered.  "I used to, but God never
seemed to hear them, so I stopped."

"Well, I think this might be a good time to give it another try," I
suggested, hoping he would go along.  "What would you say to that?"  He
wrinkled his nose and made a little face before answering me.

"I'll do it if you want me to," he countered, somewhat stubbornly, "but I
don't think it's going to do any good."

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you would humor me by doing this.  Would you
please kneel beside the bed with me?"  He nodded and we both got down on
our knees.  "Do you think you can do this on your own?"

"I'll try, but I think you might need to help me."

"That's fine.  Just let me know when."  He nodded again and spent a few
seconds thinking about what he wanted to say.  Finally, he was ready to
begin.

"Dear God.  It's me, Ricky Glover.  I know you haven't heard from me in a
while, but my new dad thinks I should say my prayers before I go to bed."
I thought he was off to a fine start.  "I never thought you heard my
prayers before, but I might have been wrong.  Maybe you were the one who
helped to find my new home and my new dad.  If you did, I just want to say
thank you.  This is the nicest I've ever had it.  Don't get me wrong, I
loved my mom, but sometimes she'd do her drugs and start acting crazy.
Sometimes she scared me a lot.  I like my new house and my new dad, so I'll
be saying my prayers every night from now on.  I guess that's all.  Amen."
He turned and looked at me.  "Was that all right?"

"That was more than all right," I assured him with a hug.  "That was
perfect."

He hopped back into bed and I tucked him in.  "Good night, Dad," he said
with another grin on his face.

"Good night, son," I responded, kissing him on the forehead.  "I'll see you
in the morning."  I turned off the light and went back downstairs.  I spent
a great deal of time replaying his prayer in my mind.  What he said had
sent tingles up and down my spine.  He made me feel incredible, knowing he
was so happy being here with me.  It also made me think this whole
experiment may be a lot easier than I ever suspected.  I know there will
probably still be some rough times ahead, but he seems to be pleased with
this situation and was giving me his best effort.  How could I not want to
also do my best for this lovable little scamp?

The rest of the week went about the same.  Ricky continued to adapt to
living with me, stayed out of trouble at school and was able to keep up
with his schoolwork.  During that week, I also showed him how to use my
computer, established a sign-on for him and set up the parental controls.
I even set him up with his own email account.  Once that had been
accomplished, I introduced him to the programs and games that he would be
allowed to use.  Every evening, when he went to bed, I would read to him
another chapter from 'The Hobbit' and he would say his prayers.  What
pleased me even more was the past two nights he ended his prayer by adding
'and God bless Dad,' before saying 'Amen.'

Pleased with how things were going, I planned a special weekend for us, but
I didn't tell Ricky about my intentions.  I wanted it to be a surprise.  I
had been eyeing the clothes he wore and decided he needed a new wardrobe
for school.  His old clothes would do fine for play or roughhousing, but he
needed something better for school, at least now that he was living with
me.  I noted the sizes on the various things he wore and that seemed to fit
him best, so when Saturday morning arrived, I announced we had something we
needed to do.

"Where are we going, Dad?" he wanted to know.

"Why don't you just wait and find out," I told him, not wanting to end his
suspense.  He protested a little, as his curiosity got the best of him, but
he eventually did as I asked.  We got in the car and I drove directly to
the local shopping mall.  After parking the car, he followed me inside and
I led him directly to the boys' section of my favorite department store.

"What are we doing here," he asked, and I winked at him.

"I thought we'd buy you some new outfits for school," I advised him.

"Why?  I've got school clothes," he protested, mildly, while also looking a
bit confused.

"You have clothes, but they're getting a little worn," I informed him.
"You can use those for times other than school."

"Are you sure?" he countered, which told me his major concern was something
other than thinking he didn't need new clothes.  "I mean, you don't have to
spend money on me like this," he continued.  "The clothes I have are okay."
I quickly concluded he was worried about becoming a financial burden on me.
It must have been something he'd had to worry about when he lived with his
mother.

"What if I WANT to do this?" I shot back, causing an even more befuddled
look to cross his face.  After several seconds of silence, he finally
responded.

"Mom always said we shouldn't spend a lot of money on clothes, seeing they
didn't seem to last very long anyway.  I don't mind wearing those other
things."

"I know you don't, Ricky, and I appreciate that you're trying to be
thoughtful and save me money," I explained.  "However, there is a
difference in the amount of money your mother had to spend and what I have.
I think you need these things, and I don't mind paying for them.  I want
you to have some nice clothes and I want you to help choose your own things
too, just in case you were worried about that."

"I wasn't worried but... I get to pick out my own things?" he asked,
surprised.

"Sure, why not?" I countered, finding it hard to believe he was acting like
he'd never done this before.

"Well, it's just that my mom used to buy all of my clothes when I wasn't
with her.  Either that or I'd get them as presents for my birthday or
Christmas," he explained.

"Oh, you'll still get presents that you won't get to choose for yourself,
but any other time we decide you need clothing or anything else, then
you'll get to go with me and show me what you want."

"That's neat," he squealed.  "Thanks, Dad."  With that, he turned and began
to look at the various racks and tables filled with clothing.

We had a pleasant time shopping and his excitement about everything just
thrilled me.  Talk about a kid in a candy store.  After much encouragement
and prodding from me, he ended up selecting several pairs of pants, several
shirts, some socks, tee shirts and underwear.  He even talked me into
letting him buy a couple of three packs of bikini briefs.  He actually
wanted to buy more of those, but I suggested he try them first, to see if
he liked them, and then I made him take two other packages of regular
briefs, just in case.  I told him if he liked the bikini briefs, I'd bring
the regular packs back and exchange them for him later.  Reluctantly, he
accepted my suggestion without much of an argument.  Once that was settled,
I took him to the back of the store, where we picked out a pair of dress
shoes, a pair of hiking boots and a new pair of athletic shoes for him.
After making our way back to the checkouts, I paid for everything and we
left.  We both had a couple of bags in our hands, as we made our way out to
the car.  We tossed the packages in the back seat, and just as soon as his
hands were empty, Ricky threw his arms around my waist.

"What's that for?" I wanted to know.  Slowly, he looked up at me, before he
spoke.

"That's for being so nice and buying me all that stuff," he informed me,
and I thought I noticed a tear in his eye as he said this.  "I don't think
anyone's ever spent so much money on me before.  Thank you, Dad."

"You're welcome and it's not that big of a deal," I assured him.  "I felt
you needed those things, so there wasn't any question in my mind about
buying them for you."

"I know," he agreed, "but you spent a lot of money on me and you let me get
what I wanted.  That was really nice and it means a lot to me."

"Thank you.  It's nice to have such a thoughtful and appreciative son," I
responded, while giving him a hug of my own.  After that, we went back
home, had a quick lunch and then I told Ricky to put on his new boots.

"What for?" he wanted to know, while flashing me a puzzled look.

"Well, I thought I'd take you out for a walk in the woods and show you
around," I explained.  "My children always loved it out in our little
forest and I still spend a great deal of time there myself.  I find the
woods very relaxing and so beautiful."

"Yeah, it sounds like fun," he quickly agreed.  "I'll be right back.  It
will only take me a minute to put my boots on."  While Ricky was doing
that, I threw on some old clothes, a pair of my boots and grabbed a flannel
shirt to cover my arms, to protect them from the briars that are so
plentiful in some of the areas we would be visiting.  When he returned, I
tossed Ricky one of my old hooded sweatshirts, which had hung in the closet
in the rec room, before guiding him out the back door.

It was a lovely spring day.  The sun was shining, the birds were singing
and there was a light breeze rustling the leaves.  As we entered the woods,
I pointed out to Ricky the characteristics of the various types of trees we
encountered -- the walnut, maple, elm, birch and so on.  I also pointed out
some of the interesting features of this specific area, along with the
potentially dangerous ones.  We walked in a large loop around this section
of my property and then I asked Ricky how far he thought we had traveled
from home.  He surprised me when he told me we'd just been traveling in a
circle and we were in about the same spot where we started.  I thought that
was very observant of him.  The first few times I had done something like
this with my children, they always thought we were miles away from home.  I
did this to show them how easily they could get confused out on their own,
which might cause them to become lost.  It had always proved to be a
valuable lesson for the rest of them, but it hadn't worked that way with
Ricky.  He informed me he had used the sun to keep his bearings and I was
quite impressed by his knowledge and instincts.

We completed our little tour of the woods and went back to the house.  As I
began preparing dinner, Ricky started chatting away.  "That was a lot of
fun, Dad.  Can we do it again sometime?"  His smile was radiant and he
seemed to be genuinely sincere about enjoying our outing.

"Sure," I told him, "we could do that, but the way you handled yourself out
there, I'm not sure you even need me to go with you.  You're a natural and
I now know that I won't have to worry about you getting lost."  His chest
seemed to swell with pride as I said that.

"Thanks," he replied, "but it's more fun with you.  So, can we do it
again?"  His face was still radiant, but it also took on a pleading
expression, as he tried to convince me he was being honest and wanted me to
agree.

"I'd be happy to go with you again," I confirmed, which made him almost
glow.  "But how did you learn so much about being in the woods?"

"I used to run into the woods by my old apartment when my mom and her
boyfriends started doing their drugs.  Sometimes they would get real mean
and I didn't want to be around them when they were like that.  It got so
bad that I would sleep outside sometimes, so I didn't have to go back in
the apartment before her friends left.  I tried to watch the windows, to
see if they were still there, but that didn't always work.  Sometimes they
would lay down on the furniture or the floor, kind of out of it, until I
walked in.  Then they'd get up and start giving me shit... I mean, crap.
Sorry, Dad."

"That's all right.  We all make mistakes sometimes, but please continue
with your story."

"Well, I started spending more time in the woods than I did at home, so I
began to learn a bunch of things on my own.  I liked it there.  Nobody was
screaming at me, getting mad or trying to hit me.  It was real nice there.
I built a lean-to and brought some blankets and a small pillow to keep out
there.  I put them in a big, plastic garbage bag, so they wouldn't get wet.
That way, they'd always be there when I needed them and I'd always have a
place to stay."

My heart ached for him, as I listened to his sad story.  No child should
have to go through anything like that, but he seemed to shake it off, like
it was something everyone had to do.  Maybe to him it was just a part of
growing up and that's why it didn't seem to bother him, although I
suspected that period of his life had scarred him deeply.  "Where did you
live after your mother died?" I asked him, trying to get him to tell me
more.  I already knew bits and pieces of this story, but I wanted his take
on it.

"I lived in a couple of different places, but I never felt like they wanted
me there.  It wasn't like it is with you, Dad.  I can tell that you want me
here, but at the first place, the people had their own kids and I was just
there.  They never bought me anything, they never read me stories and they
didn't even talk to me that much.  I didn't like it with them and they made
me call them Mr. and Mrs. Rogers."  I could see the anguish and pain on his
face as he relayed his story.

"So, why did you leave there?" I asked, curious as to what happened.

"It was like being in jail," he told me.  "I couldn't do or say anything
and their kids didn't like me.  They were always busting on me cuz I didn't
have a home or family.  I hated it there, so one night I just didn't go
back.  The next day at school, some lady came and talked to me about where
I was, and I told her how I hated it there."

"Was it Mrs. Swarthout who spoke with you?" I wanted to know.

"Nah, it was some other lady, but I think they work together," he told me.

"What about the second place?" I prodded, hoping to learn even more.

"That was just a place they send people who have nowhere else to go.  It
wasn't a family or anything, so it wasn't very nice either.  I didn't talk
much to anyone, cuz they were mostly old.  It was really boring there."

This news made me feel even worse for him, but I was beginning to realize
that Ricky didn't give his trust or affection easily.  Knowing that, I was
even more honored by the fact he wanted to call me Dad and often told me he
loved me.  When a child grows up without much love or attention, they often
find it very difficult to express those feelings later in life.  They
generally tend to end up having difficulty getting close to anyone and
their relationships are often cold and loveless.  Fortunately, Ricky was
able to bond with me quickly, possibly because of our relationship at
school, and now he seemed to feel right at home.  I know if others joined
our little family, the transition would probably not go nearly as well.

When I finished preparing dinner, we sat down to eat.  Ricky still amazed
me with the amount of food his little body could devour.  After that, we
spent a quiet evening on the couch, with Ricky cuddled up beside me,
watching TV.  When the last show ended, I sent him to his room to get ready
for bed.  As I walked in a few minutes later, to read him the next chapter
from the book, he jumped out in front of me, modeling a pair of his new
bikini underwear.

"What do you think of them, Dad?" he asked, spinning around, so I would get
the full impression.  They actually looked like a pair of Speedos on him.

"I think they look like they could use some more material," I teased, to
see how he'd react.  "What do you think of them?"

"I like them," he affirmed, smiling quite broadly.  "Will you exchange the
others for me now?"  He looked hopeful that I'd readily agree.

"Why don't we wait until you've had the chance to wear them for a while
longer first?" I advised him.  "If you still like them after a few more
days, then I'll exchange the others."  I must admit he looked rather cute
in them and was more physically mature than I would have suspected for
someone his age.  He seemed sincerely thrilled about this change in his
wardrobe and continued to spin around and strike poses, to show me how
proud he was of his new undies.  That's when I discovered he had a very
nice, firm butt too.  I finally got him to sit on the bed with me, while I
read him another chapter from 'The Hobbit.'  After we finished, he said his
prayers, hopped back into bed and promptly fell asleep.

The next morning, I was startled into consciousness when this little blond
madman leaped onto me, bringing me instantaneously out of a deep sleep.
"Come on, wake up" he pleaded.  "I'm hungry and I want to do something
today."  I looked at the clock.  It read 6:30.

"It's Sunday," I groaned.  "I usually sleep a little later on Sunday, so
why don't you just crawl in here with me and we'll lie here for a little
while longer."

Tentatively, he got in beside me.  "OK, but not for too long," he informed
me.  I think he actually liked the idea of spending more time with me
though, even if it was in bed.  He let me get another 45 minutes of sleep
before he started up again.

"My stomach's growling.  Can't you hear it?" he whined, as his eyes begged
me to get up and feed him.

"All right.  I'm moving," I answered, giving up any chance of catching a
few more winks.  Although I knew he could take care of himself, it seemed
important to him that I do this for him.  "We'll get ready for church, but
we'll go out for breakfast first," I informed him.  "Will that be
satisfactory with you?"  His eyes rolled back into their sockets and his
chest heaved with a sigh.

"Do we have to go to church?" he asked, his lack of enthusiasm for sitting
in a pew evident in his voice and facial expressions.

"Yes, we do," I stated, adamantly, and I think he read the determination on
my face as well.

"All right.  I was just checking," he shot back, before running back to his
own room, gathering his things and heading for the shower.  I got cleaned
up as well, and by the time I had finished, Ricky was already downstairs
waiting for me.

"What took you so long?" he asked, his impatience very evident.

"I guess I just don't have your energy," I responded, sarcastically.

"Yeah, a lot of people say that," he quipped, matter-of-factly.  "Well,
come on, let's go eat."

We went out to breakfast and then to church.  It was really a very pleasant
time and Ricky was very well behaved.  Even though we were sitting on a
hard pew, he snuggled up against my side and that seemed to be enough to
satisfy him.

When we got home, there were two messages on my answering machine.  The
first was from my older son, telling me he just wanted to say 'hi,' which
reminded me of something else I needed to do.  I'd better tell my children
about Ricky in the near future, before they call and he answers the phone.
If I don't remember to do tell them and they don't accidentally find out on
their own, they'll certainly be in for a big surprise on their next visit
here.

The second message was from Sally Swarthout.  "Josh, please call me as soon
as you can.  I have another favor to ask of you."



Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 4 -- And Then There Were Three.

I called Sally at home, right away.  "Hello," I heard her say.

"Hello, Sally.  This is Josh Currie," I greeted her.  "I'm returning your
call.  So, what's this favor you need me to do for you?"

"Oh, Josh.  I'm so glad you got back to me so quickly.  Would you hold on a
minute, so I can take this in the other room?  I think we'll need some
privacy."  She sounded a bit harried and I wondered what she needed privacy
from, since I knew she lived alone.

"Sure," I agreed, and then I heard Sally place the phone down, before
picking up another phone a few seconds later.  After she did that, I heard
her go back to hang up the first phone.  She was slightly winded by the
time she returned.

"Josh, I'm sorry to contact you at home, but I have another boy for you."
This caught me completely off-guard.  I wasn't ready for that particular
announcement.  I had concluded her request had something to do with Ricky,
not with another boy.  Being stunned, it took me a few seconds to respond.

"Josh, are you still there?" Sally asked, breaking me out of my trance.

"Oh, yes.  Sorry, Sally," I apologized, "but I just wasn't expecting that.
Ricky and I are still becoming comfortable with each other and I'm not sure
he's ready to share my attention yet.  Maybe you should try to find someone
else for this other boy."

"Josh, I would if I could, but there are no spots available," she informed
me, "at least none that are suitable for him.  I really hate to do this to
you, but I need you to listen to what I have to say."  I thought it over
and felt I owed her that much for giving me Ricky.

"Very well.  Tell me what's on your mind."  I'm sure she was very relieved,
once she heard me respond positively to her request, and she sounded much
calmer when she spoke again.

"Josh, this boy is thirteen, nearly fourteen.  His father threw him out of
their house and a sheriff's patrol car discovered him wandering in the park
after curfew.  The only information he would give the officers was that he
had been told to leave home and had no place to go.  The deputies took him
to the station house, to fill out some paperwork, and after spending some
time talking to the boy and getting him to trust them, he finally told them
his name and address.  When the sheriff called his house and spoke to his
father, the man confirmed the fact the boy was no longer welcome in his
residence.  He wouldn't elaborate, other than to tell the deputies they
could do with the boy as they wished.  That's when they called and got me
involved.  They asked if I had someone who could come and take custody of
him.  Due to the late hour, instead of bothering one of my caseworkers, I
did it myself.  When I got there, they turned the boy over to me and gave
me the name, address and phone number of his parents."  She paused and I
wasn't sure whether she was catching her breath or thinking about what she
wanted to say next, but the interruption didn't last long.

"When I called the boy's home the next morning, I explained who I was," she
continued, "and began to ask them about what had happened.  After some very
chilly, and even hostile exchanges, the father eventually told me he had
kicked his son out because he had discovered the boy was 'a homo.'  His
exact words were, "I'm not going to have no damn queer living in my house."
I was very dismayed to hear him say that, but I knew there was little
chance I was going to get him to change his mind."  I could sense the
sadness in her voice as she continued.

"I asked him if I could drop by and pick up his son's clothes and other
things, at which point the father grew even more irate.  He told me, "I'm
not giving that faggot one damn thing."  I wasn't sure what I was going to
do at that point, but I ending up calling a judge I knew, to get a court
order to allow me to go pick up the boy's belongings.  With that legal
document in hand, I drove to the sheriff's office next, to ask for their
assistance.  After talking to the father on the phone, I knew he wasn't
going to accept this intrusion calmly.  In, fact, I was terrified about
possibly having to go there alone.

"After hearing my story, the desk sergeant had two of his deputies escort
me to the boy's house.  As I expected, his father was not a happy camper,
but he wasn't ready or willing to defy a court order.  He did, however, let
us know what he thought about what we were doing.  'You have no right
taking things I've purchased with my hard earned money,' he screamed.
'You're no better than common thieves.'  The two officers had to physically
restrain him at this point, to keep him from interfering with me.  I was
able to get his wife to help gather up their son's things, and then she
actually left when we did.  She told us she was going to go visit a friend,
because she was afraid her husband would take his anger out on her for
assisting us.  It was all very scary and quite pathetic."  I silently
agreed with her assessment.

"Once we got outside, the two deputies asked to speak with me.  They
planned to go back inside and charge the father with child neglect, child
abandonment and endangering the welfare of a minor.  I don't think the wife
really had to worry about him for a while, because he'll probably be
spending some time in jail."  Sally paused to catch her breath.  "Anyway,
Josh," she continued, "this kid is just what you're looking for.  He's a
gay teen desperately in need of some love and guidance.  What do you say?"
I was beginning to feel the pressure she was inadvertently putting on me,
and even though I agreed with her reasoning, it wasn't that simple.  I had
more than just myself to consider now.  I had Ricky to think about too.

"Sally, I'd love to be able to help you, but I'm not sure if I can right
now," I told her, almost apologetically.  There was a momentary silence on
the other end of the line, but I gave her all the time she needed to accept
my refusal of help.  I didn't want to seem rude too, on top of being
uncooperative.

"I wouldn't ask this of you, if I had a decent home for him to go to," she
explained, after having remained silent for a minute or two.  "I let him
spend the past couple of nights with me, while I tried to figure out what
to do with him.  It was either that, the shelter Ricky stayed at or
juvenile hall.  After seeing how much Ricky disliked the shelter, I
couldn't do that to another boy.  He certainly doesn't belong in juvy and I
can tell he's uncomfortable staying here with me.  It's not easy for a
teenage boy to be around an older, unmarried woman all by himself.  The
problem is, I don't have any other options right now.  If I did, I wouldn't
be bothering you this soon after placing Ricky with you."

The pressure was increasing, so I ran everything she had told me over in my
head.  Maybe Ricky wouldn't mind having another boy here.  Maybe he'd like
to have a brother.  I wouldn't know unless I asked him, would I?  After
thinking this through, I finally decided to give Sally a break.  "If those
are your only choices, I'll take him, at least for now.  I just need to ask
a favor of you."

"Anything," she said, and I could tell she was relieved and overjoyed with
my decision.

"Would you please give me a couple of hours to talk things over with Ricky,
before you bring the boy here?  I don't want to spring this on him, without
being able to discuss it with him first."

"Of course, Josh.  I understand completely and that would be fine," she
replied, quite readily.  "If you need more time than that, I'm willing to
keep him for another night."

"No, I don't think it will take that long," I told her.  "I'll give you a
buzz as soon as Ricky and I have had a chance to hash things out.  By the
way, do I know this boy?" I was wondering if this was another one of my
students or former students.

"No, I don't believe you have ever met him," she explained.  "He lives in
another town, but still within our county.  From what I know, he went to a
different school district than the one you work for."  I guess I was a
little relieved to hear that.  I thought it might be best that we had no
previous connection this time.

"Okay.  I'll call you when we're ready," I confirmed.

"Thanks, Josh.  I really appreciate this."  I knew she did, because I could
sense the change in the tone of her voice as we had continued to speak.

When I hung up the phone, I immediately went to look for Ricky.  He was
still in his room, changing out of his new clothes and fussing over
everything before he put them away.  I knocked lightly on his door and he
quickly turned toward me.  "Ricky, may I speak to you for a few minutes?" I
asked him.

He looked up at me, puzzled.  "Sure, Dad.  What's up?"

"Ricky, I just got a call from Mrs. Swarthout..." I began, but he cut me
off.

"I didn't hear the phone ring."

"Actually, there was a message from her on the answering machine when we
got back from church and I returned her call," I corrected.  "It seems she
has another young boy in need of a place to live.  She wants me to take him
in to live with us.  How would you feel about that?"

He studied my face, but didn't say a word.  I gave him several minutes to
think about how he wanted to respond and didn't rush him to give me his
answer.  His face contorted several times as he thought this over.  "Would
we still be able to do all of the things we do now?" he asked, somewhat
concerned.

"Absolutely," I assured him.  "We can do everything we do now, once he gets
settled in.  I won't change the way I act toward you or do anything
different, but I will have to share my time between the two of you.
However, I'll try to find as many things as I can that we can ALL do
together, so neither of you will feel left out."  I waited for his
response, to see if he accepted my answer.  I could tell he was thinking
this over very carefully.

"Okay," he eventually told me, "I think we should do it.  I know what it's
like when you don't have a nice home to go to, so we should help him."  I
thought that was not only generous on his part, but cute as well.  By
saying 'we' should help this new boy, not once, but twice, it showed me
that Ricky saw us as a definite family unit.

"That's a very mature attitude," I praised him.  "The only thing I would
ask of you is that you allow me some extra time to be alone with this new
boy over the next couple of days, so I can get to know him too.  I don't
mean all of the time, just some of it.  He doesn't go to our school and
I've never met him before, so that means we'll have to get acquainted too.
I'll need that extra time to allow him to learn he can trust me and for me
to find out more about him, so I can help him better.  It was easier for
us, because we'd been together at school and knew each other first."

"Yeah, I know that," Ricky admitted, not flinching over the additional
stipulation, "and that's okay with me."

"You'll have to get to know each other as well," I added, letting him know
he'd have a part to play in this too.  "I imagine he probably could use a
good friend as well, but I promise I'll make as much time for you as I can.
I won't ignore you, just because I need to get to know him better.  Is that
all right with you?"

He thought about this for a few more seconds before answering.  "I was
kinda hoping it would be just you and me for a while, but I know you've got
enough love in you for both of us.  It's okay, Dad, I understand.  I really
do."  I was so impressed by the maturity he was showing in dealing with
this situation.  I understood he probably would have preferred it was just
the two of us for at least a few months, but having suffered through what
he'd had to endure at home gave him a greater sympathy for this other boy.

"Thanks for being such a great son."  I told him, as I gave him a big hug
and a 'fatherly' kiss on the cheek.  He looked strangely at me when I did
that, because it was the first time I hadn't just kissed him on the
forehead.  "Ricky, we'll also need to talk about a few other things before
he gets here."  He gave me another strange look, wondering what more I had
to spring on him.

Over the next several minutes, I told Ricky the rough details about the
boy's situation.  I did not tell him everything I knew, because I felt the
new boy would need a certain amount of privacy.  If he wanted to tell Ricky
more about himself later, once they got to know each other better, then
that would be entirely up to him.  For now, however, information about him
would be doled out strictly on a need-to-know basis.  After telling Ricky
what I felt he needed to know, he asked the boy's name.  Somewhat
embarrassed, I had to admit I forgot to ask, so I didn't know what it was.
He smiled after hearing my response.

"I bet you even took in stray animals when you were a kid," he teased,
grinning broadly at me.  "I'm glad you're like that or I wouldn't be here
with you now.  Besides, I think it might be fun to have a brother,
especially if he isn't just the bratty son of the family I'm living with.
I want me and this new kid to become close.  Do you know how old he is?"

"Yes, I do know that.  He's thirteen, nearly fourteen," I advised him, but
then I thought I'd better offer him a warning too.  "Ricky, please be
careful you don't try to push him too quickly.  He's just been through a
really rough time and it's been very hard on him.  It may take him a while
before he warms up and trusts us enough to let us get close to him."

"I know," he admitted, his smile never dimming.  "I'll just be real nice to
him, like you were to me."  I thought that was a sweet response and Ricky
looked even more excited now than he did when he first came to live with me
or even while we were shopping yesterday.

"A big brother," he continued.  "That sounds kinda nice, don't it?"

"Yes, it does," I agreed, while appreciating my new son even more.  "Ricky?
Have I told you lately that I love you?"

He looked at me and grinned.  "Only a few times so far today," he teased.
"And I love you, too."

"I know," I commented, "and that's what makes our relationship so special.
Hopefully, this new boy will fit in just as quickly and as well as you
have.  Do you want to eat now or wait to see if he's eaten?"

"Let's wait," he replied, without a moment's hesitation.  "That way, we can
all eat together - as a family.  Besides, I'm still kinda full from
breakfast."

"That's very nice of you to think about the new boy like that," I told him,
truly impressed by his kind heart.  "You're a super kid, Ricky, and I hope
the two of you hit it off."  He seemed embarrassed by my praise, but
handled that well too.  I called Sally and told her she could bring the boy
over any time, and then Ricky and I waited for them to arrive.

While we waited, Ricky went to play on the computer, while I sat down and
paid some bills, getting them ready to be mailed.  Before very long, the
doorbell rang.  Seeing I was closest to it, I went to open it and Ricky
raced out to stand beside me.  As I slowly pulled the door inward, there
stood Sally and the new kid, both holding a collection of paper bags,
filled with his belongings.  Carefully, I pushed the screen door open, so
they could enter.  "Hi, Sally," I greeted her, while stepping out of the
way.  "Why don't you two come in and you can introduce us."  They stepped
into the foyer.  "Just put those things down there and then we can go into
the living room to chat."

As they were lining up his things against the wall, I checked out the new
boy.  He stood about 5'4" tall, with dark brown hair, parted down the
middle in such a way that it cascaded over his forehead and formed a heart
shape each time he bent forward.  I also noticed he had dark brown eyes and
a nice athletic build.  I couldn't tell what his smile looked like though,
because he had a very sad expression on his face.  And who could blame him,
after what he'd been through?

"Danny, this is Mr. Currie and that is Ricky," Sally told him.  "Fellows,
this is Danny."

Instinctively, I reached out to shake his hand.  Slowly, he lifted his own
arm and gripped my palm.  "Hi, Danny.  Welcome to your new home," I greeted
him.

He eyed Ricky and me suspiciously, before he spoke.  "Is he your son?" he
asked, and I wondered if he had the same concerns as Ricky had about the
children from his first foster home.

"Yes," Ricky blurted out, before I could answer.

"Well, technically he's my foster son, like you," I explained, "but we've
grown very close since he's been here."  Danny continued to study both of
us.

"How long have you lived here?" Danny asked Ricky.

"A couple of weeks," Ricky answered quickly.

"And you feel like you're his son already?" Danny asked incredulously,
while watching Ricky's head bob up and down in response.

"He's also the principal at my school," Ricky shot back, as if that would
clarify things further.

"You're a principal?"  Danny wanted to know.  He was now eyeing me as if he
expected horns to sprout from my head and my mouth to begin spewing fire.

"Yes.  I'm the principal at the middle school," I answered, trying to make
it sounds as harmless as possible.  "If you're in the fifth through eighth
grades, you'll be in my school."

"Yeah, I'm in eighth," he moaned.  He didn't sound too enthused about
sharing that information or discovering he was saddled with me, other than
just at home.  "Do I have to have you as my principal AND foster dad?" he
groaned.

"Only for a few more months," I tried to reassure him.  "Once this school
year is over, you'll be attending the high school.  That's down the street
from where I work.  I think we should be able to handle a few months with
me playing a dual role.  Don't you agree?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he muttered, although he didn't look as if he were
totally convinced that was true.

"How would you like to go upstairs and pick out your new bedroom?" I asked
him, hoping that might help to break the ice.

"Pick it out?" he wondered aloud, while looking at me skeptically.

"Yes.  I have my room and Ricky has his," I informed him, "but there are
four other bedrooms upstairs for you to choose from.  Come on.  We'll all
go up there and take a peek at them, so you can figure out which one you
want."  I reached over and grasped his hand, so I could lead him to the
staircase.  Cautiously, he began to follow me, with Ricky and Sally just
behind him.  Once we got to the second floor, I opened the doors to all
four rooms and let him look around.  "If it's not exactly the way you'd
like it, we can always paint or repaper any of them," I informed him.

He eyed me suspiciously and then walked back and forth between the rooms,
until he made his choice.  "I kind of like this room," he said, pointing to
the one across from the top of the stairs.  "You don't think it's too
childish, do you?"

He was indicating the room my children had affectionately called the
'jungle room,' because the wallpaper looked as if it had come from the
African plains.  It was covered with tropical vegetation and images of
various animals indigenous to that continent, such as lions, tigers,
elephants, zebras and antelope.  There is also a green, shag rug on the
floor, which added to the effect.  The closet is on the right side of the
room, as you enter, and the bed is off to the left, centered on the near
wall.  There is a built-in desk and a chest of drawers along the left wall,
and all the furniture in the room is made of maple.

"No, not at all," I offered, enthusiastically.  "I think three of my four
children occupied this room, at one time or another, and it always seemed
to be a favorite of their friends too."  I saw him smile for the first
time.

"Then I'll move in here," he announced, with more conviction than I'd heard
from him since he had arrived.

"I'll help you," Ricky quickly volunteered, which caused our newest arrival
to smile again.

"Thanks, I'd like that," Danny countered, before the two of them rushed
down the stairs, at warp speed.

"Slow down," I yelled from behind.  "There's no hurry to get things done
and I don't want either of you breaking your necks or anything else."
Ricky giggled at my comment, before I overheard him talking to our new
arrival.

"Don't worry," Ricky told Danny, "he's like that sometimes, but it's only
because he really cares about us."  Hearing him say that actually gave me a
warm glow inside.  I knew Sally heard his comment too, because she had this
strange expression on her face when she looked at me, as if she were
thinking, 'Josh, I didn't know you were such an old softie.'

When the boys returned with Danny's belongings, we all helped him settle in
to his new room.  I got clean bed linens, so Danny could make up the bed.
Then I went downstairs to get a dust cloth and the vacuum, so I could
spruce the room up even more.  It's not that it was dirty, because I clean
all the rooms at least once a month, even though they are empty.  However,
this room was in need of a little touchup since my last time in there.  It
didn't take long to get it into shape, and by then, the other three had put
away everything Danny had brought with him.

"Have you had any lunch yet?" I inquired, which caused both boys to stop
and look up at me.

"Not yet," Danny informed me.  "I had a late breakfast with
Mrs. Swarthout."

"Would you like something now?" I prodded, knowing boys his age didn't
usually go very long in between meals.  Besides, I was positive Ricky was
ready to eat again.

"Yeah, I guess I am a little hungry," Danny admitted.

"Fine, let's head downstairs then," I urged, directing the boys toward the
stairway, "and I'll fix us all something.  Mrs. Swarthout, would you care
to join us?"

"No, thank you, Josh," she answered.  "I have some things I need to do at
my place, so I think I'll leave you men alone.  You seem to have everything
under control here and it will give you time to get to know each other
better.  I'll call you tomorrow, if that's okay?" she added, and I nodded
my consent.  "Danny, I'll see you too, when I stop by to visit from time to
time.  Good-bye, Ricky.  I'm really glad to see you like it here."  This
comment caused Ricky to beam, as he nodded his head vigorously.

"Good-bye, Mrs. Swarthout," both boys responded, almost in unison, but
Danny added, "and thanks for your help."

"It was my pleasure, sweetheart," she replied.  "You guys have a good time
and I'll be in touch."

We all waved at her as she left.  I was standing in the doorway, with a
'son' tucked under each arm, as we all bid her farewell.  After we closed
the door, I gave Danny the rundown on his lunch hour choices and let him
select what we would eat.  He wanted hamburgers, so I took some frozen
patties out of the freezer and grabbed a frying pan.  It wasn't long before
we began to hear them sizzle.  After flipping them over, I took three
plates out of the cupboard and threw some chips and pickles on each of
them, while directing both boys to get what they wanted to drink from the
fridge.  I asked if anyone wanted cheese on their hamburgers and both boys
said 'yes.'  Once their cheeseburgers were done, I let them fix them the
way they wanted, and then I had them carry their plates and drinks into the
dining room.  I wanted us to sit down and eat as a family.  I also wished
to use this time to allow us to get to know each other better.

During lunch, we discovered Danny's last name was Roma and that he had
lived about thirty miles from here.  He filled us in about his life, school
and family life, before the rift, and we discovered that he was also a
pretty fair athlete.  He admitted he liked to play almost any sport there
was and wanted to know what sports teams we had at school.  I quickly
rattled off everything the school offered and he seemed pleased with the
information.  After that, I let Ricky tell Danny about himself.

I didn't push Danny to tell us how his father found out he was gay, mainly
because Ricky didn't know about that yet, so I wasn't about to bring it up.
I would leave that decision entirely up to Danny.  After we finished
eating, both boys took care of their own dishes; with Ricky showing his
'brother' what he was expected to do.  It didn't take them long to finish
up.

"Ricky, how would you like to give Danny the grand tour of the place, both
inside and out?" I suggested, thinking that might give them an opportunity
to bond even closer.

"Yeah, I could do that," he eagerly agreed.  "Thanks, Dad.  Come on, Danny.
I'll show you everything."  The two boys took off, with Ricky talking a
mile a minute.  I was happy to see they were obviously getting along and
this would give them a chance to find out more about each other, before I
singled Danny out for a more private conversation.


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