Date: Fri, 25 Sep 2009 02:34:38 EDT
From: Bwstories8@aol.com
Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening - Book 2, chapters 29 & 30

Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 2 by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 29 -- Walk a Mile in His Shoes.

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

As we entered the house, after seeing Sally off, the boys went into the
family room to watch their favorite Friday night sit-coms, so I went to my
office to check my email.  I was just reading one of my messages when Pat
walked in and closed the door behind him.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked me, seeming more than just a little
agitated.

"Doing what?" I countered, totally confused by his question.

"Taking their kind in," he screeched back.  "First, you bring home a couple
of chinks and now you welcome a nigger.  They don't belong in our family."
I was completely shocked by Pat's statement.  I had never seen any
indication that he was a bigot, well, maybe that first night he was with us
when he called all of the boys 'fags'.  But that was based on a hurtful
experience with one of his mother's boyfriends.  I had no idea what brought
this on.

"Pat, why don't you think they belong here with us?" I pressed, trying to
clarify the problem.

"Are you kidding?  They're not white," he informed me, quite forcefully,
while looking at me like I was out of my mind.  "They're not like us and
they don't belong here."

"Patrick, I don't know what you've been told or what brought this on," I
countered, "but they're just boys like the rest of you.  They may be a
different color and they may look a little different, but they're still
boys who need a home and plenty of love."

"But they need to be with their own kind," he replied.

"They are with their own kind," I said defiantly.  "They're human and we're
human."

"You know what I mean," he spat back.  You could almost see the venom in
his words.

"I do, but I wish I didn't," I responded.  "I thought you boys knew how I
felt about things like this.  I don't turn boys down because they're gay, I
don't turn boys down because they have a different religion than mine and I
certainly don't and WON'T turn down a boy because of his eye, hair or skin
color."  He glared at me and I knew he wasn't buying into what I was
telling him.  I stood up, put my arm over his shoulder, guided him over to
the bed and forced him to sit down next to me.

"Patrick, do you remember the first day you came here?"  He shook his head
up and down, while he continued to glare at me.

"I didn't ask you if you were Hispanic, Mediterranean or Native American,
did I?"  He shook his head from side to side, although his expression never
softened.

"I didn't ask you if you were Protestant, Catholic or Jewish either, did
I?"  Again, he shook his head from side to side, but I could tell he was
becoming slightly exasperated.

"And I didn't ask you if you'd been raped by an older man, did I?"
Suddenly, a look of horror crossed his face.

"But that's not the same.  I... I... I couldn't help that," he stammered.
"I didn't want to do it with him.  He made me."

"And Sammy and Andrew can't help that they're part oriental and Dion can't
help it if he's black," I informed him, hoping he'd see the similarity in
their situations.  "They shouldn't be penalized because of an accident of
birth, any more than you should have been penalized for whom your mother
chose as her friends.  None of those things should play a part in any
decision about helping someone else."

"But some of the boys at school have been giving me grief, because they say
I have chink brothers," he explained, which suddenly gave me a different
perspective on the situation.

"Then they have a problem, not us," I stated.  "Let me make something else
perfectly clear to you.  I will not accept derogatory comments about
anybody else, nor will I tolerate any type of racial or ethical slurs being
used in my house or in my presence.  I don't want to hear you refer to
Sammy and Andrew as chinks, gooks, slant-eyes or any other such things, nor
do I want to discover that you called Dion a mud-person, jungle bunny,
nigger or anything else to put him down.  Is that clear?"

"But they are..." Pat began to protest, but I cut him off.

"No, Sammy and Andrew are Japanese or oriental and Dion is black or
Afro-American and that is the only acceptable way for you to refer to them
and their heritage.  NOW, do you understand?"  This time he meekly nodded
his head up and down, but his expression had barely changed.

"Good," I announced.  "Pat, I know there are people in this world that feel
the same way you just indicated, but I hope by now they are in the minority
of the population.  Whatever they might say or do is usually a reflection
of their upbringing.  I often find that people who feel that way are either
responding to a lack of contact with other groups or a bad experience with
a member of that group that they've blown out of proportion and then use to
label the entire group.  It could also have been caused by their being
brainwashed by others or merely from a lack of education about such things.
I sincerely hope you don't fall into one of those groups."  He looked up at
me, but there wasn't really any indication that his position had changed,
so I continued.

"Over time, I have learned you can find good and bad in any group you look
at, whether it be a race of people, a religious group or an entire
nationality.  You can't label the whole group, because of a few bad apples.
What would you think if people labeled all white people as rapists, because
of what your mother's old boyfriend did to you?"

"That wouldn't be fair.  He was only one person," Pat snapped back.

"Exactly, and you can't label whole groups as bad or want to stay away from
them because of what a few of their group have done or because of what
others say about them," I informed him.  "You are nearly a man now, and you
need to learn to think for yourself and not let your friends make up your
mind for you.  They are reacting only to how the boys look, but I'm asking
you to base your judgment on the individual.  Get to know them first, so
you'll be able to judge them for whom they truly are.  You seem to like
Sammy and Andrew well enough when you're home and it's only in public when
I see you acting differently.  You do like those boys, don't you?"

"Yes, they're nice enough and I don't mind playing with them when we're
here.  It's just..." but I interrupted him again.  I knew what he was going
to say next and I didn't want to give him the chance to spit it out.

"Would you promise me that you'll give them a chance, spend time with them
and learn who they are on the inside and then judge them on their own
merits?"

"I'll try, but it will be hard," he acknowledged.  "What I am going to say
to those other guys when they find out I also have a nig... a black for a
brother?"

"You can tell them what I told you," I suggested.  "You could also tell
them that they are your brothers and you don't want anyone speaking that
way about them, or you can just stop hanging around people who are so
narrow-minded.  If you make that choice, I would still hope you would let
them know why you no longer wish to be their friend."

"Okay, I'll do this for you," he offered, "but I want you to know I'm only
doing this because all of the other boys say you are usually right about
most things.  It's not going to be easy, but I'll try to do what you ask."

"Just do me one favor though, will you?" I asked him.

"What's that?" he quickly countered.

"Just promise me that you'll do this for yourself, and not for me."  He
looked at me slightly puzzled, so I explained.

"I want you to do it because you now think it's the right thing to do, not
just because you're trying to humor me," I added.  "If you do that much, I
know you'll make me as proud of you as you have in the past.  Just keep an
open mind.  I think you'll discover those three boys may look a little
different from the rest of us, but down deep we're all pretty much the
same."

"Okay, I'll try," he conceded.  "I guess if you can give all of us a
chance, then I can too."

"That's all I ask," I explained.  "Maybe it's time for you to join the
others, so you can see if you can get to know who Dion really is."  He
nodded his head and left my room.  I knew this was only the beginning in
our fight against bigotry, but I hoped, from the very core of my being,
that the rest of these types of battles would take place away from our home
and not include my sons.

I stayed in my room and didn't get to the family room for nearly an hour,
as I was kept going over the discussion with Pat in my mind.  Since he gave
in so quickly and was willing to do as I asked, I suspected these views
hadn't been instilled in him since childhood.  Yes, he could have heard
comments like that while he was growing up, but since he lived with so many
different people, I have a feeling this is more about peer pressure.  I
think at least one of the groups he's been hanging around with might be
racially paranoid and had made comments to Pat about the situation.  Since
most teens tend to prefer to listen to their peer group about such things,
rather than to adults, I suspect he had succumbed to their pressure.  That
doesn't take him off the hook for what he said by any means, but it does
tend to make it clearer why he reacted the way he did.

This caused me to wonder if some of the others might be inclined to think
along those same lines or if people they knew at school might start making
comments to them about our newest additions.  I now thought about each of
my sons and attempted to see if I had a gut feeling about how they might
react to such things and considered what I'd do if more of these types of
issues arose in the future.  After I had reflected upon all of the possible
scenarios and considered how to best respond to each of them, I went out to
join the boys.  When I walked into the family room, I noticed Dion wasn't
there and immediately began to wonder why.

"Where's Dion?" I asked calmly, yet still somewhat forcefully.

"Oh, he and Trey went up to work on the computer," Kevin informed me.
"Trey was going to teach him some things on it."  My body relaxed slightly.

"Oh, the two of them hit it off?" I asked, wanting to learn more.

"Yeah, big time," Dustin added.  "We were talking and they found out that
they like a lot of the same things.  They both like to read and they've
both even read many of the same books.  Besides that, neither one of them
care for sports, they're both shy and kind of loners at times and they're
only about a year apart in age.  Not only that, but Dion wants to learn
more about the computer and Trey was willing to teach him."

"Well, that's sounds like a good start," I responded.  "I'm glad they've
found someone they can share their interests with."

"You should have seen them," Ricky added.  "They couldn't shut up and just
kept talking about books and stuff.  We had to ask them to leave the room,
just so we could hear our show."

I could just picture Ricky doing that in his whiny, little child voice that
he liked to use to make his point.  They probably felt they had to leave or
suffer the consequences.  I decided to go upstairs and see what they were
up to.  As I walked up to the door of the little office, I could hear Trey
explaining to Dion how to navigate the Internet.  I peeked through the door
and they were sitting close together and Dion was listening intently to
every word Trey was saying.

"Well, it looks like you two are hitting it off," I stated, as I walked in
the door.

"Yeah, Trey was teaching me about the computer," Dion offered,
enthusiastically.

"Well, that's very nice of you, Trey.  I hear you two have a lot in
common," I added, to see what else they might tell me.

"We do, Pop.  We've even read most of the same books.  It's really great,"
Trey confessed.  "Now, I have someone to talk to about some of the other
things I enjoy the most and stuff most of the other guys aren't interested
in."

"That's fantastic," I assured him.  "I guess I'll leave you two alone, so
you can get back to whatever you were doing."

"You don't have to," Dion chirped.  "You can join us, if you want."  I
thought that was very sweet of him.

"Thanks for the offer, but you don't look like you need my help," I
replied, gracefully backing out of his offer.  "I'll see you both later."

"Pop," Trey added, "would you mind if Dion and I showered together
tonight?"

"I don't mind, but what does Dion think about that idea?" I responded,
wondering whose idea this really was and if it had been discussed before I
arrived.

"I don't mind," Dion confirmed.  "I've showered a few times with the other
guys at school and I think it would be neat to try it here.  I've never had
anyone I could do that with before."

"Well, have fun then," I answered, implying my consent, "but remember that
no one does anything unless the other person agrees."

"I know, Pop," Trey responded.  "I already told Dion that, too, when I
asked him if he wanted to shower together."  That answered my earlier
question, about whether or not they'd discussed that particular issue
before I arrived on the scene.

"Good.  I just wanted to make sure both of you understood that.  I'll see
you after you're done," I informed them, as I went back downstairs.  I
heard the two of them scurry down the hallway behind me, hurrying toward
the old master bathroom.  I could also hear someone in the other upstairs
bathroom and assumed shower time had officially begun.

I went back into the family room and rejoined the others, and no sooner had
I sat down in my chair, when Andrew came over and crawled onto my lap.

"What's up, kid?" I asked him, wondering what had precipitated his action.

"I just wanted to sit with you for a while.  Okay?" he asked me.

"Sure it's okay, little man," I told him.  That's all he needed to hear and
he immediately rested the side of his head against my chest and draped his
legs over my lap.  I put my arms around him and gave him a hug.

"This is nice," I told him.

"Yeah, it is," he answered.  I think my littlest and youngest son is going
to be a cuddler, but that certainly isn't going to be a problem.

Andrew felt so small and vulnerable in my embrace and I could only think
about the pain he had already been made to endure in his young life.  I
rested my cheek on the top of head and we sat like that through a couple of
shows.  I saw Ricky, Cole and Graham grinning at us on several different
occasions, as they noted how close Andrew was getting to me.  After the
second program ended, they asked Andrew if he wanted to join them for a
shower.  He looked up at me, as if he were silently asking for my
permission, and I smacked him on his tiny bottom and told him to go ahead.
He smiled up at me, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and then jumped off of my
lap.  He waved back at me, as he headed through the doorway.



Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 2 by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 30 -- Ripples in the Pond.

I looked around and realized that Trey and Dion hadn't come back down to
join us after their shower, so I thought I'd walk upstairs to check on
them.  After all, it was Dion's first night here.  I heard them talking in
Dion's room, so I went down to see what they were up to.  They were both
walking around the room naked, arranging things and putting away Dion's
clothes.  I was shocked when I looked at Dion, as he moved about.  The
little shit was hung.  He must have been 5" soft and his circumcised pole
swung back and forth under his small pubic patch as he moved about.

"Are you getting settled?" I asked, startling them.  Dion looked up
quickly, having not noticed me peeking into the room earlier.

"You scared me!" he exclaimed, before looking down at his unclothed body
and then at Trey.  "You aren't mad because we don't have any clothes on,
are you?"

"No.  Should I be?" I asked.

"I guess not," he said dryly.  "Trey told me the other boys usually did
this after their showers.  I just wasn't sure, since I've never done
anything like this before."

"Well, you've nothing to be afraid of," I explained, "and there's certainly
no need to hide that great body of yours."  He looked down at the floor
when I said that.  I think I embarrassed him.  "You sure are well endowed
for a little dude."

 "I know.  Some of the guys at my old school used to joke with me about how
big my dick is, compared to theirs," he admitted.  "It kind of made me
proud that I was bigger there than the rest of them."

"Yes, I can understand that," I agreed.  "Well, you'll fit in well here, if
you're not embarrassed about running around without your clothes on.  I'm
sure most of the boys will be dressed the same way as the two of you, as
soon as they finish their showers."

"I was hoping this place would be fun and it is," Dion told me, while
sporting a huge grin.  "I was worried at first, when I didn't see any other
black boys, but this is cool.  Everyone has been real nice to me."

"And I'm sure they will continue to be," I informed him, although there was
still one doubt in my mind.  "Welcome to the family, Dion."  He looked up
at me and smiled again, and then he walked over to me and wrapped his arms
around my waist.

"Thank you for asking me to live here.  I think Trey and I are going to be
really good friends and I like you a lot too.  I'm so happy that I'm not
alone any more."

"In this house there isn't a chance of your ever being alone," I joked.
"You might come to wish you had more time to be by yourself."

"Never.  I've had enough of that already," he stated, defiantly.  "Now I
want to see what I can do with all of these guys to help me.  I think it's
gonna be great."

"Well, I hope you still feel that way a month from now and then a year from
now," I told him.  "I'm sure your Aunt Sally will be happy to learn how you
feel about this place."  He nodded and I left the two boys alone to finish
getting Dion settled.

Trey and Dion spent the rest of their night upstairs and I think they even
slept together in his single bed, although Trey told me later that nothing
sexual happened.  Trey didn't want to push him too quickly.  He thought
he'd let him get used to running around the house naked first, before he
questioned if he might like to experiment some.  I told him I thought that
was a very good idea.

Sally came back on Sunday and I think she was amazed at how well Dion had
adjusted to living with us.  He just rattled on and on, telling her about
all the things he had done since he had been there.  He also told her about
Trey and all the things they had in common.  When she asked him if he liked
it here and wanted to stay, his eyes lit up and a grin spread from ear to
ear, as he told her 'yes'.  She stayed for quite a while and watched him
play and frolic about with the others and I think her guilt from abandoning
him had now disappeared completely.

At one point during the day, she pulled me aside and asked me my take on
how he was fitting in.  I told her everything had gone smoothly and that he
and Trey had bonded quickly, which made it even easier for him.  I didn't,
however, tell her about the little outburst Pat had that first night.
Sally seemed thrilled at how he was doing and thanked me numerous times for
doing this for her.  "Sally, although my allowing you to bring him here to
meet us was done as a favor to you, my taking him in was done as a favor to
he and I.  I think I'm going to really enjoy having him around."

When she was finally ready to leave, Sally hugged him good-bye and kissed
him on the cheek, along with doing the same to all the other boys, before
she left.  She even gave the old timer a squeeze and a peck on the cheek
too, which caused some giggling from the boys -- Dion in particular.  Dion
waved at her as she drove away, but I saw no regrets concerning his
decision to stay with us.

On Monday, I enrolled Dion in school and one of the guidance counselors
gave him his schedule.  Trey showed him around the place and filled him in
on the gossip about his teachers.  I checked up on him a couple of times
that first day and he seemed to be doing just fine.  He also seemed to
always have a big smile for me, whenever he noticed me looking in his
direction.  Later that evening, he mentioned it was nice to know that I
really cared about how he was doing.

The next few days were quite uneventful for Dion.  He was bogged down with
homework in the evening, because his old school was slightly behind the
pace our school was setting in his studies.  Trey offered to help him when
he needed it, so he could catch up, and Dion gratefully accepted his offer.
I was noticing this invisible bond forming between those two boys, but from
what I could tell, it was strictly on a platonic level for now.

Thursday I got another surprise.  When I picked up the boys from the high
school, Pat was not in very good shape.  His shirt was torn, he had scrapes
and bruises on his face and he wasn't in a particularly good mood.  When I
asked up what had happened, he merely responded he would tell me when we
got home.  I left it at that and decided I would give him time to come to
me about whatever had happened.  As soon as I got home, I started to fix
dinner and was quite busy in the kitchen.  About a half an hour later, Pat
showed up and asked me if we could go into my bedroom to talk.  After
turning down the fire on the things I was preparing, he followed me into my
room and we sat down on the bed beside each other.  He looked up at me and
took a deep breath, before he began his account.

"Dad, I got in a fight at school today," he announced.

"I suspected as much from your appearance," I commented.  "What was it
about?"

"Remember when we talked the other day?" he asked.

"Do you mean our chat about our newest family members?" I countered, trying
to clarify what he meant.

"Yeah, that one," he agreed.  "Well, Monday a couple of the guys made a
remark at lunch about Sammy and Andrew and I told them I didn't want to
hear any more comments like that.  I told them they were my brothers and if
anyone said anything bad or mean about them, I'd punch their lights out.
They looked shocked, but accepted what I told them and no one said anything
more... until today."  Pat paused briefly and glanced toward the door, even
though it was closed.  I guess he was a little nervous about what he was
going to tell me next.  After a few seconds, he began again,

"I guess word got around about Dion and one of the guys started asking me
what I thought of my nigger brother.  I told him the same thing I had said
the other day, but this time he didn't listen.  He kept making nasty
comments about Dion and I warned him two more times.  Then he made a
comment that Dion and all the other niggers should be shipped back to
Africa, so I belted him."  I was a little shocked Pat had stuck up for them
like that, but I wasn't going to chastise him for defending his brothers in
that manner...  just yet.

"Two of our friends came after me next and there were a lot of punches
being thrown," he continued.  "Then, the first guy joined back in, after
the effects of my punch wore off, and I was kind of outnumbered.  One of my
other friends stuck up for me and started to help me fight the other three.
We held our own for most of the time, maybe even better than that.  I think
two of them are going to have nice shiners and the other one had a gash on
his cheek, where my friend Tommy's ring cut into him, when Tommy punched
him."

"Did you get into any trouble over this fight?" I asked, wondering why I
hadn't received a call about it.

"No.  It happened during lunch and took place outside," he informed.  "None
of the teachers were around at the time and I think those guys were afraid
they'd get in trouble over what they said, so they didn't tell anyone
either.  The guy with the cut was telling people he got it from a piece of
chain link fence that was sticking out.  What bull crap.  The asshole just
didn't want to admit that he got his ass whipped for having such a big
mouth."

"Do any of your brothers know about this?" I asked, concerned that word
might filter down to Dion, Sammy and Andrew about this incident.  I was
willing to ignore a little of what Pat said and did at this point, because
I was more concerned at how the other three were handling what happened.

"Yeah, Danny, Dustin and Ricky know," he informed me.  "Some of their
friends told them they thought I had been in a fight, so they asked me
about it.  I told them what happened, but I told them not to let Dion,
Sammy or Andrew find out about it.  I don't want them to feel bad because
of my stupid ex-friends."

"That's quite a turn-around from the other day," I stated, "and I'm very
proud of you.  I'm not proud of you for fighting, but as I told Danny the
time he got in his fight, there are always other options.  However, I am
pleased that you defended your brothers and then were wise enough to try to
protect them further by not letting them know what happened."

"I'm sorry it happened that way, but I didn't know what else to do," he
admitted.  "He just wouldn't shut up, even after I warned him.  You really
got to me the other day and I spent a whole bunch of time thinking about
what you said.  I even made sure I spent some time with all three of them
over the weekend, so I could do like you asked and get to know who they
were.  You know something, they're all pretty cool and I found out a lot
more about them.  You were right.  Except for the color of their skin being
different, they're pretty much just like the rest of us."  Pat looked me
directly in the eyes, before he made his final comment.  "You know, I feel
really stupid now.  That's two dumb things that I've done since I've been
here."

"Pat, there's no way any of us can keep from doing silly things from time
to time," I consoled.  "The important thing is that you have grown
considerably after each of those incidents.  I can forgive your outbursts,
because we were able to talk about what bothered you, and both times you've
grown as a human being.  Actually, I'm quite proud of you and I imagine
Danny, Dustin and Ricky are too, especially since you did it to defend your
brothers.  I'm sure they would have made you a hero today and told how you
and your other friend beat those guys up, if they weren't worried it would
let the cat out of the bag for the three who were the focal point of that
incident."

"You really think so?" he asked, not realizing that possibly his older
brother admired what he'd done more than he thought.

"I'm positive!" I exclaimed, in order to leave no doubt in his mind.  As
his grin broadened, I wrapped my arms around his upper body and drew him
tightly against me.  I thought about what I was going to do next for a
minute, as I evaluated Pat's age and possible reaction to what I had
planned, but then I went ahead and did it anyway.  I kissed him on his
forehead.  His reaction wasn't what I expected.  I expected him to pull
away and tell me he was too old for that, but he merely looked up at me,
grinning from ear-to- ear, and then he spoke.

"Thanks, I needed that," he informed me, which was more than a little
surprising to me.  "I knew you'd like it that I stood up for my brothers,"
he continued, "but I wasn't sure how you'd feel about my getting into a
fight at school.  That just let me know that everything's cool.  It means a
lot to me that you'd kiss me like that, especially after some of the dumb
things I've said and done."

"Pat, I might not always like the things you say and do, but I will always
love you, in spite of everything else," I assured him.  "You're my son and
that will become official in a couple of months.  That means no matter how
many disagreements we might have, I will love you until the day I die.
Even if you get too old for an occasional kiss or hug, it won't mean that I
love you any less than I do right now."

"Thanks, Dad.  I'll make sure that I do the same for you and my
brothers... ALL OF THEM," he emphasized.  "Even if the next one has three
arms and two heads, I will still love him and protect him from people
outside the family who would try to do anything to hurt him."

"I'd say you just took a giant step toward becoming a man, and I'm proud of
you for it," I announced, joyously.

After Pat and I finished our discussion, I thought about an old saying.
They say that wars are won by winning little battles.  I can only relate to
the two victories Pat had won, over his homophobia and his racial bias, and
I know he is on his way to winning his struggle to become a fine man and a
valuable member of our family and the community.

Nothing more was said about Pat's encounter, but I did notice he was
spending much more time with his three newest brothers.  It may have been
due to a partial attack of conscience, but whatever caused it, Pat seemed
to be making up for lost time and the others seemed to appreciate his
attention, as well.  None of them had many, if any, playmates before they
came to live here and Pat was keeping them busy and teaching them many new
things.  He taught them board games, card games and patiently showed them
how to use the collection of electronic games I had purchased for all the
boys to use this past Christmas.  I was still amazed, but totally pleased
by his 180-degree turnabout.

Nothing further happened at school on Friday.  I spent the whole day
expecting some sort of phone call from the high school, either telling me
Pat had been in another fight or informing me about his punishment for the
previous one.  However, that phone call never came.  Pat did tell me later
that evening that three of his former friends now hated him, but that some
of the others had apologized to him for what they had done.  They said they
never thought much about it, before Pat stood up to them.  They just
thought that protecting their own race was something they should do.

"In a way, your right," Pat agreed, "but it's not the white race or black
race you should be protecting.  You should be doing it for the human race
-- all of it."  I think he got that from something I had said to him when
we first discussed his reaction to his new brothers, but he said it more
eloquently than I had.

After hearing what Pat had to say, the other boys announced they'd learned
that, if anything, they were just embarrassing their own race by pushing a
narrow-minded, hateful attitude.  They thought about it Thursday night and
realized that if blacks, oriental or other minority groups acted the same
way, all there would be was hatred and fighting.  They asked Pat to forgive
them and to apologize to his brothers for them, and Pat said he'd forgive
them, but informed them he'd never told his brothers about their hurtful
comments.  After hearing that, the boys told Pat that maybe they could
include his brothers in on some of their activities in the future, as a
gesture of reconciliation.  Pat quickly accepted their offer and thanked
them for remaining his friends.

I think Pat had learned another lesson from this incident, which was that
people CAN change.  He was willing to accept the fact they had come to
realize their previous stance and actions had been misguided and he was
happy to keep them as his friends.  I thought his acceptance of their
remorse showed as much growth and maturity on his part, as accepting his
brothers for who they were.

Things were fairly uneventful from that point on.  During the week, the
boys invited Brandon and Jay to come to the house on Saturday and spend the
night, in order to give them a chance to get to know our newest additions
better.  Once both boys arrived, they decided to have a big kickball game
in the side yard.  They chose to play kickball, over their other options,
because they knew Dion, Sammy and Andrew weren't very athletic.  None of
those boys had ever had a chance to play sports or other such games, and
therefore never developed an interest.

Even since they had been with us, none of them had given us any indication
that they might like to try something along that line, so the other boys
felt this might be a good opportunity to judge if they might be interested
in athletic endeavors.  The others also figured this would be the ideal
game for our three newbies to get some exercise and do things with the rest
of them.  Not only that, but it didn't take a whole lot of coordination to
play the game, it was easy to learn and you used a decent sized rubber
ball, which was easy to handle and didn't hurt badly if you got hit with
it.

Sammy, Andrew and Dion were a little nervous about playing, since they were
afraid they'd mess up, but you could tell they were very pleased they had
been asked to join in, especially since this whole thing had been
orchestrated on their behalf.  There were six boys on one team and seven on
the other, Andrew being the additional boy on the second team.

Due to the time of year, the boys were all dressed warmly, and that extra
padding would also take any sting out of getting hit with the ball.  It was
a little cold out, but there was no snow, since it seldom snowed in the
southern part of our state.  Bundled up as they were, they started their
game.

The boys played for well over an hour and a half, as I did some chores
inside, while still trying to keep tabs on the game.  During that time, I
could hear their yells of excitement, as well as the arguments over the
close calls.  I could also hear the encouragement they were offering those
who were new to this game and the suggestions they were giving them about
what to do to improve.  When it eventually ended, the boys came back in,
laughing and talking about things that happened while they were playing,
and I starting whipping up some hot chocolate to warm them up.

Some of the boys made it a point to tell me about all the highlights of the
game, as they downed their drinks.  Andrew was bursting as he told me about
his 'homerun,' although I was later informed it was the result of some
rather inaccurate and poorly timed throws by some of the other boys.  Sammy
then told me about the great catch he made in the outfield and the boys
quickly verified it was a rather impressive and difficult catch at that.

Dion was just thrilled he had others to play with, after confiding the only
other time he could play games like that was at school, but he was seldom
selected for a team, because of his lack of athleticism.  He said it was
nice to be able to play just for fun and not have to worry about being
really good at it.  We told him his skills would improve over time,
especially if he continued playing against his brothers, but Dion said that
didn't really matter to him, as long as they still let him join in the fun.

I was pleased to see that everyone had accepted the activity for what it
was -- a good time.



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