Date: Tue, 19 Jan 2010 22:31:18 EST From: bwstories8@aol.com Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening - Book 4, chapters 11 - 12 Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 4 by BW Copyright 2009 by billwstories Chapter 11 -- Our Ride on Life's Roller Coaster. **Author's Note:** Please read the disclaimer in Chapter 00 before you read this. Not only was February a very busy month, but it was rapidly becoming apparent that March was going to be just as hectic, if not more so. Looking forward, I realized there were appointments to be made and kept, more birthdays to be celebrated and enjoyed, as well as new initiatives and plans to be developed for the Castaway Foundation. All of these would most likely prove to be rewarding, although the pace would be frantic, but I was still eagerly anticipating the next thirty-one days. In addition to February and March being a very busy time for us, those months were also quite unusual too, at least as far as the weather was concerned. Up to this point, we had experienced a very mild winter, so my 'drivers' were beginning to actively pester me about scheduling them to take their road tests. After thinking about it for a while, I agreed they might be right and this would be a good time to get the matter taken care of. Therefore, I went to the DMV and set up their road tests for the second week of March, over three consecutive days. I felt it would be best to let each of them have their own day to focus on this big event, since that way I could work with each one individually the night before the test and let them have a lengthy final practice before their day of reckoning. Not only that, but I might also be called upon to be there for them, should any of them happen to fail. I felt they were all ready and would do well, but who knows what might happen if their nerves get the best of them. I had scheduled them to take their tests by age, from the oldest to the youngest. This meant Dustin would go first, then Brandon and finally Danny. It was an agonizing couple of weeks for them, as they continued to practice with me, yet longed to get this over with so they could finally have their licenses. When that week finally arrived, those three were almost basket cases -- very excited, yet nervous about doing well. None of them wanted to be the one to fail, especially if the other two passed and got their licenses. This would mean they would have to have one of the others drive them around for a while and they also assumed I would make them wait until Frankie and Kevin were ready to take their tests before I let them go for a second try. Despite their conjecture, I really hadn't thought that far ahead and took more of a 'we'll cross that bridge when we come to it' attitude instead. The weekend before the road tests, Brandon turned seventeen and we had a pretty big party for him. His parents flew out to join us and Brandon also invited a few of his school friends to attend as well. Although he decided he didn't want a sleepover, we still had a fairly elaborate party at the house, complete with cake, ice cream and presents. Although the O'Haras spent time alone with Brandon and Danny the night before, we let Brandon, Danny and Brandon's friends spend his birthday doing the things they wanted to do, some of which included only them. However, none of the other boys let that bother them, since they all realized that each of them needed their own space from time to time and even they sometimes wanted time to be alone with others outside of the family. After the party was over and his friends had gone home, Brandon spent the rest of the evening and part of the next day with his parents. He and Danny went out for lunch with them the next afternoon, before the O'Haras had to fly back to Texas. After they returned from lunch, Pat and Brenda took time to thank me for allowing them the opportunities to spend time alone with Brandon and Danny, while apologizing for not doing more with the rest of us. I told them not to worry about it, since we all understood. I advised them they shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to enjoy some quality time with their son and his partner and I'd have felt disappointed if they hadn't. They thanked me again, before saying their good-byes to everyone and leaving for home. The week of the road tests seemed to be upon us in no time and each boy handled his preparation for it differently. Being the oldest, Dustin was the first to take his test and was very relaxed and confident after his final practice session with me. The following afternoon, after he returned from his time with the examiner, he just smiled and announced he had passed. When it was Brandon's turn, he was very nervous and hyperactive. The evening before the test, he was extremely jittery during his final practice with me, and once we returned to the house, he just couldn't seem to land in any one spot for longer than a few minutes. He was constantly moving around, bouncing from one room to another or going up and down the stairs, while moving from hanging with one brother to the next. Even though we all tried to calm him down, none of us seemed successful in our efforts -- not even Danny. It was almost as if he felt he was competing with his lover, so he wouldn't let him do anything to break his concentration, which included sex. I'm not sure Brandon even slept that night and he appeared to be on a caffeine buzz or a sugar high when he came downstairs the next morning. I rode with him as we drove down to the test location and it was very obvious how jittery he was. After we parked and the examiner came over and got in the car with him, Brandon grew pale, looking as if the blood had been drained from his body, and he was trembling slightly. Danny had ridden down with us, for moral support, but he and I joked that Brandon might just get so nervous that he'd barf on the examiner before they got back. Once the test was over, I think Brandon almost passed out when the examiner told him he had passed, but recommended he learn to relax more when he was behind the wheel. This put Danny under even more pressure than the others. Not only was he the last of the trio to take the test, but the other two had already passed, so he couldn't -- no, he wouldn't, be the only one to fail. When it came time for his final practice, he seemed a little nervous about getting behind the wheel, but not nearly as worked up as Brandon had been. I could tell he continued to put himself under more stress than necessary, while considering what it would be like if he was the only one to fail. It took me a few minutes to calm him down before we could even begin. Before I let him start the car, I had a long talk with him about his driving skills and told him I had all the confidence in the world in his ability. He had done as well, or better, than the others during our practice sessions and I was certain he would do fine when he took his road test the following day. That seemed to make him feel better and he began to worry less about it. He even began to joke about his upcoming big moment. During our outing, he did very well, even better than I'd expected, so this seemed to boost his confidence as well. I think he and Brandon had sex that evening, just to relax him more, and he didn't appear to have any concerns when he came down to breakfast the next morning. Brandon and I both rode down with him when it was time to leave, and before he left with his examiner, I wished him well and emphasized I was confident he'd do fine. Brandon quickly did the same, so Danny smiled at both of us, before pulling away. Once he'd completed his exam, he pulled back into the parking space in front of where he had left us, put the Grand AM in park, shut off the engine and got out to wait with us, while his examiner tallied up his sheet. When the examiner approached Danny a couple of minutes later, the man merely smiled and told him he had passed. The look on Danny's face was priceless, now that he realized he had also been successful, and Brandon and I were quick to congratulate him. I now had three new drivers who were eager to share the transportation duties with me and act as chauffeurs for the others. This made me begin to wonder if these boys really understood what they had just gotten themselves into? If not, they would soon learn. That same week, Sally finalized a list of potential adoptive parents and asked me to join her in going back to the group home to interview the children, one-on-one, to determine who would match up with whom. We were going to try to pair up the potential combinations by using our observations and background information on each, but then allow the various individuals to meet with each other, to see if it worked out as well in person, as it did on paper. This way we'd avoid wasting time with every set of parents meeting every child, especially when we knew there would be little, if any, chance of it working out. Although my boys wanted to go to the home again, we explained they would only be in the way and slow the process down, because this was something we needed to do on our own. Reluctantly they gave in, although they did make a special pitch for each of the children they had bonded with on our previous visit. I also placated them by agreeing to take them to the home for a visit the following weekend, if they wished. They all did, so I also agreed I would also mention this to the children at the home, after our interviews were completed. Sally and I conducted these interviews together and met with each child individually. During these sessions, we made notes about their special needs, as well as their likes, dislikes and what they felt would be an ideal situation for them. Our first job was to put each child at ease and get them to relax and be themselves. Once that had been accomplished, we discovered some very intriguing and wonderful things about each of them -- information that would assist us in matching them up with the prospective parents. Of course, Sally and I each had our favorites. Mine were two little fellows named Richard and Walter, while Sally seemed particularly drawn to a young lady named Alice and a couple of older children, named Rhonda and Billy. She and I agreed these might be the easiest of the children to place, so they would, therefore, head our adoption list. I knew some of the boys would be pleased by this decision, while others would be disappointed we hadn't selected their special friend(s) to be included in these first match- ups. Regardless, we had to do what we could, but we would try to get all of the children adopted eventually. All in all, it was a draining, but productive visit. That same weekend we celebrated Graham's fourteenth birthday. Of course, he wanted a sleepover party and invited several of his friends from school, but failed to realize that Cole and Ricky had devised some special plans of their own for his party. The celebration started out as usual, with the boys playing games outdoors during the day or doing whatever they wanted, and then we had a big dinner, followed an hour later by the cake, ice cream and the opening of presents. It wasn't until later, when the boys went into the family room to sack out for the night that the other two terrors put their plan into action. Unbeknownst to the rest of us, Cole and Ricky had already completed their preparations and were anxiously waiting to set them into motion. Just after the lights went off in the family room, my terrors sneaked out of the house, but not before donning special Halloween masks. The boys had outfitted these masks with small laser pointers for eyes, which were located just above the slits the boys were able to look out of. I still don't know where they got the cassette tape they used, but the sounds that came out of their boom box made it seem as if some kind of spacecraft was landing in our yard. Once the noises from the tape had gotten everyone's attention, Cole and Ricky walked up to the picture window, so their red laser beams eyes could flash through the glass, like they were targeting each boy within, for who knows what purpose. Needless to say, the following commotion and screams brought me running into the room, as the boys were shouting words of warning at each other, while some of them were asking questions about what was happening. It took me some time to calm them all down, and then Graham told his friends it was probably just some of his brothers playing a prank on them. Once they'd heard that, they began to settle down a bit. A minute or so later, Graham took a few of the other boys and slipped out of the room, sneaked through the house and exited out the backdoor. They circled around the house and silently crept up behind the aliens, before enthusiastically pouncing upon the unsuspecting pair. They managed to hold Cole and Ricky down until the others came out to join them, and then for the next several minutes, they tortured the pair who had tried to scare them. Eagerly they tickled or spanked each of the older boys, before giving each of them wedgies (pulling their underwear into the cracks of their ass) and Dutch rubs (where you rub your knuckles across the top of the head, causing a burning sensation from the friction). I think the pranksters got the worst of this deal, but I suspect all of the boys had a great time because of it. The following weekend we celebrated Brent's first birthday with us -- he would be turning fifteen. His birthday happened to coincide with St. Patrick's Day, which fell on a Saturday this year, so we used this fact to help make his day special. A couple of weeks in advance of his big day, I asked him if he'd like to invite any of his friends from school and he informed me there was just one boy he felt close to, but he would like to have him join us. I quickly told him to ask this young man if he wanted to come home with us on Friday and spend the night. The kid immediately agreed, so Brent and I picked him up at his house after school that day. As the boy got into the van, Brent immediately introduced us. "Pop, this is Jimmy," Brent announced beaming. "And Jimmy, this is my pop. He's the greatest." Hearing him say that made me feel good and I'm sure it also impressed his friend. I had never met Jimmy before today, because he never attended my school. I discovered this was because his family had just moved into the area the previous summer, so he had begun his schooling at the high school, where he was a freshman, just like Brent. Maybe that's why they took to each other -- you know, the new kids in town sort of thing. The boys seemed to really get along well together and Brent eagerly introduced him to everyone else once we got home, just not all at once. Brent took his time, letting his friend get to know each of the others and I suspect Brent had forewarned him about how many there were, since Jimmy never made mention of this fact nor asked questions about it. Jimmy also spent the night in Brent's room and shared his bed. It didn't seem to be a problem and I was glad Brent had someone else he felt close to. Brent and Jimmy spent the entire next day together too, doing things by themselves or getting involved in activities with the other boys, and each of them seemed to be having a great time. I later discovered Jimmy was an only child and seemed to like the idea of having so many others around, so I had a feeling we would be seeing much more of him in the future. About an hour or so before dinnertime, Aunt Sally, Aunt Mary and Uncle Steve arrived for the birthday meal and party. I'd let Brent choose what he wanted to eat and followed his suggestion, so we sat down to a meal of roast beef, mashed potatoes, corn and tossed salad. Everyone not only seemed to enjoy what we had, but also appeared to have his/her fill. Once we left the table, the adults moved into the living room to relax for a bit, while the boys did other things. We waited about an hour after we finished eating before we cut Brent's birthday cake, which was done in white frosting with green lettering, because of St. Patrick's Day. We even had a couple of shamrocks and a leprechaun with his pot of gold adorning it. After we finished the cake and ice cream, we gave Brent his presents to open. He seemed to get a bit choked up as he unwrapped each one, which often made it difficult for him to thank the giver. I felt this was probably because it was his first birthday with us and he wasn't used to getting so much, so I didn't give it a second thought. Afterward the rest of us sat around and talked for a bit, while Brent and his friend went off to check out some of his presents more closely. A little later, he came back to thank everyone again and say good-bye to our guests before they left. After that, Brent and I took his friend home. As we were driving back to our place, Brent turned and looked at me for a few seconds, before he spoke. "You know, I didn't expect to have as big a party as the others, cuz I'm not really your son yet," he announced. "Sure you are, and you were the minute you came here to live with us," I countered. He didn't respond to that immediately, but I think I saw a tear glide down his cheek. "Brent," I told him, "it doesn't take a bunch of legal papers to make you part of our family. That only makes it official. You're as much a member of this family as any of the other boys and I don't want you to ever think you aren't." "I guess I know that now, so thank you," he nearly whispered. "I think Jimmy was just as surprised as I was, and it made me feel really special that you went to all that trouble just for me. I really love being with you and I'm glad you picked me up that night I was hitchhiking. I really didn't know what I was going to do or where I was going to go, and who knows what would have happened to me if someone else had picked me up. I don't know if I've told you this before, but I love you and I love living with you and all my new brothers." "And we love you too, just don't sell yourself short," I urged. "You are as much a member of this family as anyone else and you don't ever have to worry about that. I'm glad we picked you up too, because it almost didn't happen. I was talking to the boys and hadn't noticed you standing beside the road. In fact, it was Brandon who noticed you hitching and yelled for me to pull over." "So that's why you took so long to stop," Brent mumbled to himself, before speaking a little louder to me. "I thought you weren't going to pick me up and then I saw you slam on the brakes and start backing up. I guess I'll have to thank Brandon after we get back home." "Yes, you do that," I agreed. Brent did thank Brandon when we went inside and I think he even spent the night with Danny and Brandon in their room. I think it even helped form a special bond between the three of them, but especially between Brent and Brandon, as Brent began to think of the taller blond as his personal savior. Brent would go out of his way to do special things for Brandon and I'm not sure if Brandon ever figured out exactly why. Brandon just seemed to write it off as an infatuation or maybe even a type of hero worship, but maybe someday I'll fill him in as to what it was all about. On Sunday, I kept my promise and took all of the boys to visit the group foster home, so they could hook up with their new friends again. We went to church first and then out to brunch, before going home to change. Once everyone was in more comfortable clothes, I had them load into the van and drove out to the group home. Excitedly, they exited out of the vehicle and ran to find their special friends, but I'm not sure which group was happier about this reunion. At various times the boys brought their new friends over to meet me, although I had already met most of them during my previous visits. I think my boys were hoping these introductions would help their friends get adopted sooner. Even though each of my sons had their favorites, they also went out of their way to make sure every child got a visit and was given some sort of special attention. However, they were eventually forced to give up on one little autistic boy, who felt threatened by them and didn't appreciate the change in his routine. I know my boys felt bad about this, but I tried to explain to them why he reacted as he did. I did make special note of the children whom Sally and I had placed at the top of the adoption list and thought it was cute that Ricky had paired up with Richard from the home. I could tell from just watching them that Richard hero-worshipped my son and Ricky instantly acquired another shadow. It was almost humorous watching them move about, because it was similar to watching birds in flight. Nearly as soon as Ricky stopped, started or made a change in direction, Richard would quickly mimic his actions, without missing a step. His eyes were glued to Ricky and the look on his face was priceless and showed just how much he admired this older version of himself. I think Ricky was also eating up this attention too and was enjoying his time on the pedestal. Before long, I noticed that various members of my family were setting up games, such as tag or kickball, and inviting the others to join. In a very short time, nearly everyone was participating in something and running around and having fun, as children should. The staff thanked us all when it was time for us to leave, telling us this visit had been terrific for these poor kids and they could tell the children sincerely enjoyed themselves. After I explained that my boys had enjoyed it just as much, they invited us to come back again, anytime we wished. It was now the next to last week of March and I was busy working at school. I was in my office, putting the final touches on our proposed budget for the next school year, when my secretary came rushing in. "Josh, there's been an accident at the high school," she informed me and I could read the panic on her face. "They said one of your boys has been injured and was being transported to the hospital. They didn't tell me which son it was, but they want you to meet them at the emergency room as soon as possible. They also told me to reassure you it isn't life threatening, but they do need you there to fill out the paperwork and support your son emotionally." "Oh, God, I hope it isn't anything serious," I wailed, thinking they might be playing down the severity so I wouldn't get too upset. "Please tell all the necessary people that I'm gone and then you do whatever else it is you usually do in these situations. I'll try to call you from the hospital, if I learn anything before school is out for the day. While I'm at the hospital, you'll need to…" she cut me off. "Josh, go be with your son. We can handle everything here," she assured me, while gently nudging me out the door. "Thanks, and I know you can," I agreed. "It's just instinctive, especially with the adrenaline pumping like it is." "I know and don't worry about things here," she once again confirmed. "Go take care of whichever wonderful son of yours needs you now. Everything here will be fine." I quickly grabbed the van keys out of my desk and then bolted toward the door. As I went, I thought about the other boys and what they were going to do, but quickly realized one of my new drivers had the Suburban and he would be able to pick everyone else up and get them home. I was pretty sure all of those attending the high school had already been apprised of the accident, if not formally, at least via the rumor mill, and most likely knew more about what had happened, and to which brother, than I did. I just sped down one street to the next, not really recalling any of the details of the ride to the hospital. When I arrived, I parked the van in the lot for the emergency room and raced inside, where I was greeted by the high school assistant-principal. "Josh, the doctors are examining him now, but you'll need to fill out the paperwork until they come for you," he explained. "Just a second, Bob," I countered. "First tell me which son was injured, what is wrong with him and how it happened?" "It's Patrick," he informed me, quite directly. "There was an accident in the chemistry lab and his face was splattered with chemicals and glass. The teacher flushed everything from his skin and eyeballs, as soon as he could get to him, and then the paramedics took over and transported him here. We're really not sure about how much or what kind of damage might have occurred though." "Do you know what chemicals we're talking about or exactly what areas are affected?" I pressed, trying to get a more detailed explanation. "I know you mentioned his eyes, but was there extensive damaged done to them or anywhere else?" "I don't know for sure, Josh," the assistant principal admitted. "I pieced together what information I could before I left the school, but I had to hurry, because I wanted to follow the ambulance here. I felt it best if someone from the school was with Pat, not only to keep him calm, but also so we could apprise you about the situation when you arrived." "But the teacher didn't tell you anything else?" I shot back. "Look, he was busy treating Patrick first and was then occupied with calming his class down and getting things back under control," he informed me. "Besides, I'm not sure if he knew much more than that either, as he was reacting to your injured son's pained cries and the hysterical screams of those around him. It was all pretty frantic at that point." "I understand, Bob, and I'm sure you all did everything you could," I agreed. "When did this happen and how long has Pat been here?" Bob glanced quickly at his watch. "I'd say it happened about thirty minutes ago and he's probably been in with the doctors for ten, maybe fifteen minutes now." I absorbed all of the information he gave me, while my emotions were running wild, but he gently guided me over to one of the intake personnel, so they could have me fill out and sign the appropriate paperwork. I was almost done with this vast accumulation of red tape, when a nurse came out and paged me. I handed all the forms back through the window and informed the lady I would finish filling them out after I'd seen my son and talked to the doctors. She merely nodded and Bob and I were off. Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 4 by BW Copyright 2009 by billwstories Chapter 12 -- Learning To Cope. The nurse led us back to a small cubicle with the curtain drawn around it, but she quickly pulled back the cloth divider and allowed us to pass through. Bob and I both caught our breath when we saw Pat. His head wrapped in bandages from the nose up and the doctor was just finishing his handiwork as we entered. "Which one of you is the boy's father?" he asked, looking up, so I signaled I was. "How much damage was done, doctor?" I asked cautiously. "It's hard to tell at this early stage," he informed me, without committing himself. "I suspect he will have some facial scarring and there might be some damage to his vision. He was lucky someone reacted as quickly as they did and used water to dilute or remove the excess acid. It could have been much worse, if that hadn't happened." I wanted to ask more questions, but not with Pat sitting there listening to us. I did plan on talking to the doctor in greater detail later, once I was able to get him alone. He had basically told us as much as I wanted to know for now, so I asked Pat if he could tell us about the accident. "I was in chemistry lab," Pat explained, "and the period was almost over. We were cleaning up and putting things away when it happened. I had just taken off my safety goggles and was storing them and some of the beakers we had used in the cabinets below the counter, while the group next to me tried to hurry and finish cleaning up. One of the guys went to set his bottle of sulfuric acid on the shelf above the worktable, but wasn't careful about what he was doing. He let go of the bottle before it was completely on the shelf, so it fell and smashed on the hard counter top. The acid and glass splattered and hit my face, just as I was beginning to stand up. I guess I must have screamed out in pain, because the teacher came running over to see what was going on. He quickly pulled me to the sink, flipped down the eyewash thing and made me stick my face into it. The water began to rinse the acid off, which made it so it didn't burn so badly. While he was doing that, he told one of the other students to go to the office and have someone call for an ambulance." At this point, I just stood there stunned and unsure about what to do or say. After remaining like a statue for a few awkward moments, I bent down and kissed Pat's forehead, through the bandages, and whispered into his ear. "You'll be fine, son, and we'll do whatever it takes to help you." I hoped that might comfort him and remind him about all the support he would have. "I know," he responded, somewhat hoarsely, "but I'm still scared." "I understand and I'm a little scared too," I explained, "but we must put our faith in God right now and let the man upstairs do the worrying and find the answers for us. "You know, this is kind of ironic," Pat stated dryly. "When I first came to live with you, I was sort of blind and couldn't see the good in other people. I let what they looked like or who they liked cloud how I saw them, but then you made me see how wrong that was. It seems strange that now I can see others clearly again, I might really be blind and I don't know if I can handle that." "Shush, baby," I urged him. "This is not the time for negative thoughts and it's too early to assume the worst. With God's help, we're going to get you through this crisis." What I really wanted to do was discuss how we'd help him adjust to being blind, if that were the case, but I knew this was not the time or the place for such thoughts. Instead, I told Pat this. "We'll deal with things as they arise, consider our options as we are presented with them and then choose what we think is the best course of action. For now, we will go on the assumption that you will still be able to see and that very little will change." Hearing this, Pat squeezed my hand with both of his, clutched it to his chest and placed it over his heart, before he informed me, "I'll try to as brave as you are." If only he knew the truth! I was probably just as scared as he was about the outcome, but I also realized that if he knew it, he might not be as brave himself. I couldn't let that happen, so I tried to remain as calm as I could. Looking back, I realized his simple comment probably took all the courage he could muster. His mind had to be running rampant over the various scenarios concerning the possibility he was going to be blind, so just being able to think logically and unemotionally was more than any of the rest of us might have been able to do. Once I regained my wits, I asked the doctor when Pat would be able to be discharged and he told me he would probably allow Pat to go home shortly. Before doing that, however, the doctor wanted to go over the procedure for caring for his injuries until his next visit, as the bandages would have to be changed and the wounds cleaned, in order to lower the chance of infection setting in. He stated that once all of those things had been completed, he would then let me go out and pull the car up to the emergency entrance, where I would be able to pick up my son. I left Bob to comfort Pat while I was gone, since I didn't think it would be wise to leave Pat alone just yet. Before I left, however, I let my son know I would be going off with the doctor so he could show me what I would need to do for him once he was discharged. Pat told me to go ahead and he'd be fine, so I left and followed Pat's physician to another area of the emergency wing. A few seconds later, we entered an adjacent room and the doctor began searching through some cabinets there. A short time later, he handed me some sample tubes of salve and quickly wrote out a couple of prescriptions. The first prescription he handed me was for painkillers, to help control whatever discomfort Pat might still experience from the acid burns. Next, the physician gave me a prescription for the same ointment that was in the sample tubes, which I could have filled once they had been used up. He told me the gel would not only prevent infection, but would also help reduce the amount of scarring Pat would have to live with. After that, he showed me how to wrap Pat's head with bandages, to help protect the skin and give it time to heal, before finally giving me instructions about what Pat could or could not do and explaining how I should deal with Pat's future concerns. Once he finished all of this, I asked him what the chances were that Pat would be permanently blind. "It is really hard to say at this point, since it was difficult for me to tell how much of the acid got into his eyes and how much of it had been stopped by his eyelids. I could see some damage was done to his cornea, but that is most likely correctable, at least according to the ophthalmologist we had look at him before I bandaged his eyes. I will have one of the intake clerks set up appointments for him, both at my office and with the ophthalmologist, so we can keep on top of things. I also removed a few glass splinters from his cheek and forehead, but fortunately didn't discover any glass fragments in his eyes." He must have looked at me and noticed the concerned look on my face, so he tried to reassure me some more. "Don't worry, we'll let you know what his prognosis is as soon as we can. In the meantime, take your son home and treat him as normally as possible." I thanked him again and then went out to find a phone, so I could call my secretary and let her know what was going on. I quickly told her what I knew, advised her I would be taking a few days off from work and explained I would keep her updated from time to time. She thanked me for calling, assured me that she'd take care of everything and then said good-bye. After I finished speaking to her, I went out to retrieve the van, so I could take Pat home. I pulled up in front of the emergency entrance and put the van in park, before going to get Pat. When I returned to his treatment cubicle, he was still sitting on the examination table, so I helped get him down and into the wheelchair someone had left there, so we could leave. In order to do that, I had to explain everything to him as we went. I first told him how much of a drop there was before he'd reach the floor, exactly where the wheelchair was, once he was down, and what we were going to do next. After all of that had been accomplished, I wheeled him to the van. Once we were beside the vehicle, I explained to him how to find the door handle to the passenger door, so he could open it for himself. I then told him how far away he was, when to step up and advised him if I noticed anything else amiss as he started to get in, such as if it looked as if he might bump his head or bang his knee. I didn't want him to start off feeling helpless or useless, if I pampered him and did everything for him, nor was I going to let him wallow in self-pity. He would still have to do most things for himself, because none of us would be around every time he needed something. Before we pulled away, I also made him buckle his seatbelt, since I didn't want anything else to happen to him during the ride home. When we reached the house, I saw all of his brothers come running out to greet us, so I immediately jumped out of the driver's seat and waved them back, letting them know we'd meet and talk to them inside. While I was doing that, Pat undid his seatbelt, carefully slid his legs out the door and dropped to the ground, before shutting the door behind him. Once he had completed all of that, I had him grab my elbow and walk beside me, as I led him toward the house. I would warn him if there was uneven ground or when we came to a step up, and he did quite well for his first time. The other boys didn't quite do as I asked and were still clustered outside the front door. As we approached, I saw many open mouths gawking at us, so I assumed it was due to the fact they hadn't noticed Pat's bandaged head before he got out of the van. I was sure they had all heard about his accident in the lab, but I guess they hadn't expected to see him bandaged this way or anticipated his injuries might be so severe. Before we got closer, I held up my left hand to stop their comments and then spoke to Pat, to let him know what was happening. "Hey, Pat, all of your brothers have come outside to greet you," I explained. "It looks as if they are worried about you too." Pat lifted his head up, so he faced in the direction he thought his brothers were, and spoke. "Hi bros and thanks for coming out to see me, but I'm okay. The doctor says I'll have to be bandaged like this for a few days, but don't worry, everything will be fine. This is just so I won't get an infection or anything." The other boys looked at me, to see if what Pat was saying was true, so I merely nodded my head in agreement, figuring I'd give them more details later. As we went inside, I asked Pat what he would like to do until dinnertime and he responded that he'd like to listen to his music. I told him that would be fine and then led him into the living room, where I guided him to a chair. Once he was seated, I asked for a volunteer to run to Pat's room and get his personal CD player and a few of his CD's. Dustin took off to do this for me, and after he came back, I taught Pat how to change his CDs, without being able to rely on seeing what he was doing. I then made sure to point out how his CD's were arranged, which side was top or bottom and then let him practice changing them a couple of times, while I stayed there and watched. Before long he was content sitting by himself, listening to his music. I imagined he was also using this time to do some thinking about his situation and assessing what his life was going to be like from this day forward. While Pat was listening to his music, I took the rest of the boys into the family room and filled them in concerning the information I had. After I finished, they eagerly told me what they had heard before they left school. It seems as though the rumor mill had been working overtime, passing around varying reports about what had happened to him. The boys had heard numerous stories, which included an accident in the lab, a fight in the lab, Pat falling down a flight of stairs and someone throwing a glass jar at him. I quickly corrected all of the misconceptions and answered each of the questions the boys asked. I explained how Pat would need their help and support, but emphasized I didn't want them doing everything for him. I told them Pat still needed to feel useful and I didn't want him treated like an invalid. They seemed to understand, so I left it at that. When dinner was ready, I guided Pat out to the table and had him sit in the chair next to mine. I had given him one of our heavy-duty glasses, just in case he knocked it over it wouldn't break as easily, but I didn't want to make any drastic changes to his tableware and make him think he was different now. He was still our Pat, but he would need to learn to cope with whatever changes resulted from his injury. Patiently, I explained to him where everything was, meaning his silverware, plate, napkin, salad and drink, and then I told him what I was putting on his plate and where it was located. I did this by getting him to think of his plate as being divided into quarters, but he would have to remember which items had been placed in each section. I then let him start trying to eat on his own, knowing it would be awkward for him to do so at first. He did have some problems early and began to get frustrated, but I whispered a few encouraging words to him every now and then, so he kept going. He nearly knocked over his glass a couple of times, but only spilled some of its contents once. I wiped it up quickly and didn't make any comment about it to him, since I didn't want to make him feel badly. I think a couple of the boys were ready to say something about it, but a quick glance from me ended that thought on their part. When dinner ended, the boys cleaned up while I took Pat into the other room to discuss a few things. First, I explained he would be staying home with me for a few days, until after he went to his next doctors' appointment, and then I asked him what he wanted to do about sleeping arrangements tonight, since I felt he should be the one to make that decision. After thinking about it for a few seconds, he asked if he could sleep with me for those few days. He said he knew he would need help going back and forth to the toilet during the night and maybe with other things, so he would feel better if I were there to assist him. Besides, he said he wasn't ready to tackle the stairs quite yet, especially all the way to the attic. I agreed with his logic and told him it would be fine if he slept with me for the time being. I also informed him I'd be happy to do whatever I could to assist him, but I would expect him to help himself as much as possible. He said he understood and then thanked me for being here for him. He hugged me and put his head on my shoulder for a minute or so, and then pulled back slightly, so he could tell me everything was going to be fine. Here he was, the injured one, assuring me that things would be all right. For the rest of the evening, the other boys helped to occupy Pat's attention, asking him questions about the accident and doing things with him. I think, up until the accident, no one ever gave much thought about how dependent they were on their vision, but now they were beginning to realize they couldn't even play cards or enjoy any of the other games with Pat, because he wouldn't be able to see or appreciate what was going on. This really stumped them for a while, until Ricky made a suggestion. "You know, when I first came here, Dad used to read to me every night before I went to bed. It was great and I was wondering if maybe you'd like it if one of us read to you." "That's right," Danny added. "When I first got here they were already into a book, so they caught me up on what I had missed, before going on with the story. Ricky and I used to look forward to that time every night. I think it's a great idea." "Yeah," Pat answered, "it does sound interesting, but I don't know what story I'd want to hear." "Trust me," Ricky explained, before he rushed off to find me, "I know the perfect one." Excitedly, Ricky raced into my office and asked to borrow the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy, so I happily went and got all three books for him. Before long he was sitting with Pat and some of the others, reading to all of them about some hairy little creature called a Hobbit. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the story and I think Ricky was getting a kick out of being the one who was doing the reading this time around. They went on like this until it was nearly bedtime, and I don't know how many chapters they actually read, but they were all talking about the story when I came by to send them off to hit the showers. Pat stayed there with me, while his brothers climbed the stairs. "Dad, how can I shower like this?" he wanted to know. "Well, you won't be able to take a shower for a while, because you can't get those bandages wet. However, you can still take a bath, as long as you're careful. I'll draw the water in the tub downstairs and then I'll help you get started. Would that be all right with you?" "Yeah, I guess so, but what about the boys who use the downstairs bathroom?" "I'll let them use my shower for as long as we need you to use the tub," I explained. "That should take care of everything." Pat turned his head in my direction, even though he was a little off target. "Okay, I guess that will be all right, if it's okay with the other guys. Thanks, Dad. You sure do think of everything." "I try," was all I responded. Now that our discussion had ended, I guided Pat to the downstairs bathroom, had him sit on the toilet and undress, while I filled the tub for him. I didn't put a great deal of water in it, just to be safe. I felt if he slid in the tub, it would be easier for him to keep the bandages dry if the water level were low. That would make it easier for him to keep his head above water, even if he were flat on his back. When everything was ready, I helped him get into the tub and sit down, gave him a washcloth and the soap, and then told him to go ahead and clean up. I explained I would be leaving for a short time, so I could do some other things, but he could call out if he needed anything. "Wait, I can't do this by myself," he argued. "I thought you were going to stay and help me." "Pat, you don't need my help," I assured him. "You can wash yourself without having to see anything. Just put the soap where you can find it again and you'll do fine. Just give a try, and if you still need help later, I'll give you a hand when I return. Okay?" "I guess I don't have a choice, do I?" he whined, as he began to sulk. He did begin to wash himself, although not very enthusiastically, so I made my way out of the room. I did leave the bathroom, just in case he was listening for my footsteps, but quietly crept back and stood in the open doorway. Silently, I watched his progress, but I had to restrain myself from rushing in there and doing it for him. I merely wanted to be in the vicinity in case anything went wrong. It was a little awkward for him at first, especially when he accidentally dropped the soap and had to try to find it again, but before long he finished cleaning himself completely and called out when he was done. I hesitated a moment before I went back in, since I didn't want him to know I had been watching him the whole time. Eventually, I walked inside and let him know I was back. After he told me he was done, I helped him stand up, get out of the tub and then I handed him a towel to dry himself off, as he stood on the small throw-rug. "Aren't you going to help me at all?" he asked, as he took the towel from me. "Sure, when you really need my help," I explained, "but I think you should be able to do this on your own. Dry off your head and upper body first, and then I'll help you sit on the toilet lid so you can dry your legs and feet." He made a funny expression with his face, I think to let me know he didn't fully agree with my methods, but did as I suggested. Once he'd finished mopping up the excess water from his body, I asked if he wanted anything to sleep in tonight, since he'd be sleeping in with me. He just laughed and said that wouldn't be necessary. We did stay up a while longer, once the other boys came back from taking their showers, and we all sat around and talked until bedtime. After a short time, I suggested it was time to turn in, since the rest of the boys still had school tomorrow, even though Pat and I would be staying home. Pat chuckled and announced, "This might not turn out so bad after all." The others looked startled for a moment, mildly surprised by Pat's comment, but then they began to joke around with him about his current situation. Someone told him how lucky he was that he didn't have to go to school for a while, while another voice questioned what extent some people would go to get out of having to attend classes. It was all taken in the spirit it was offered and the boys had a good time teasing each other, but I finally got them to go to their rooms so they could get some shuteye. Once they had disappeared, Pat suggested he was ready for bed too. I led him into my room, guided him to his side of the bed, pulled the covers back and let him get in. He slid into place, pulled the sheet and blanket up over himself and then asked if I was coming to bed too. I thought about it briefly and decided I might as well, as he didn't seem to want to be alone. He might even wish to talk more about things, as he attempted to cope with his current situation. Therefore, I told him I was going to turn in also, after I checked the house one final time. Once I returned, I undressed and slid into bed beside him. We just laid there for a few minutes, listening to each other breathe, before Pat spoke to me. "Thank you for what you did earlier," he began. "Although I was upset because you weren't going to help me, it was good that I learned I'm still able to do most things for myself. In the emergency room, when I was thinking about what it was going to be like for me now, I was mostly worried that I was going to have to depend on someone else to take care of me and wouldn't be able to do anything on my own again." "Pat, we don't know what kind of long term effects this accident will have on you, but there's no reason you can't still be self-sufficient," I informed him. "You may require some assistance, but I think you should be able to mostly get by without any outside interference. You'll just have to adjust to doing things a little differently and the rest of us will help you learn whatever it is that you'll need to know." Pat hesitated a moment, before he continued. "And were you responsible for Ricky's idea to read to me too?" "Probably, but not in the way you're thinking," I replied. "I think he got the idea from when I used to read to him, after he first came here to live, but I said nothing to him about doing it for you. He came up with the idea on his own and I think it was something he really wanted to do for you." "And you didn't make any suggestions about any of them doing anything like that?" he pressed. "Not a word," I admitted. I could see a small smile form on Pat's lips and then he gently nodded his head up and down. "Wow, I really thought it was all your idea," he stated. "I didn't think Ricky would think of doing that on his own. I mean, Ricky and I have never been as close as I am with some of the others, so I was just surprised he was the one who suggested it." "You two may not be real close," I agreed, "but you're still his brother and he does love you. Ricky is a very caring and thoughtful young man -- it's just that he sometimes gets wrapped up in his own life and playing the clown. I will tell you one thing, however, and that is whenever you need someone to help out or someone you can count on, Ricky's your man." "Yeah, I think I know that now," Pat agreed. We talked a little while longer and discussed some other topics before we decided to call it a night. Just as I was starting to doze off, I felt Pat move a little closer to me, so our bodies were barely touching. I think he did this as a way of reassuring himself I was still there during the night and that he was not alone. E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive' comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com - but please put the story title in the subject line, so it doesn't get deleted as junk mail.