Date: Sun, 14 Mar 2010 12:50:35 EDT
From: Bwstories8@aol.com
Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening - Book 4, chapters 39 - 40

Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 4 by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 39 -- A Time For Healing, a Time of Doubt.

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

Monday morning, we arrived at the hospital before 8:00 a.m.  I left the
boys in the waiting room while I went off with Pat.  I would stay with him
until he was taken into the operating room and then I would go back and
wait with my other sons until the procedure was completed.  Pat was given
one of those hospital gowns to put on, which he wasn't too pleased about,
but donned it anyway.  He then carefully climbed onto the stretcher and I
covered him with a blanket, to help preserve a modicum of modesty.

We waited there for a few minutes before the anesthesiologist came in, and
then she talked to Pat for a short time, explaining everything she would be
doing, before giving him a shot.  It didn't take long for the injection to
start taking effect, so Pat slowly began to drift off.  A short time after
that, an orderly came in to wheel him to the OR, so I kissed Pat on the
forehead, wished him well and watched him go down the hallway until they
disappeared from sight.  At that point, I went back to wait with my other
boys and they began asking me all kinds of questions the minute I walked
in.  They wanted to know if the operation had already begun, how long it
would take and then they wanted me to give them the details of what would
be happening.  As I was describing what would be going on, Andrew
interrupted me with a question.

"Daddy, why do they call it plastic surgery?  Will the doctor use plastic
to make Pat's face look better?"  The other boys started to chortle, but I
made a gesture to them to knock it off and I tried to answer Andrew's
question, using information I discovered while doing my research.

"No, honey, they don't use any plastic in the operation," I assured him.
"The procedure got that name from a Greek word 'plastikos,' which means to
mold or give form.  They used that name because the doctor molds or gives
new form to areas of the body that need improvement, either from a
naturally occurring problem, such as a birth defect or from disease, or due
to an injury.  That's what they are going to do for Pat.  They're going to
take care of those parts of his face that were scarred by the accident at
school and give them new form, to make him look better."

"Then he won't come back looking like he's wearing a hockey goalie's mask?"
Andrew followed, quite seriously.  Unfortunately, we all ended up losing
our stoic front hearing him say that, but we somehow managed to control our
mirth.

"No, honey, he won't look like he's wearing a mask," I confirmed, "but
Pat's face will be bandaged, swollen and slightly discolored for a while.
Pat will have little scars where the doctor is going to stitch his skin
back together, but that will be a lot less obvious than the scars he has
now."

After that exchange, some of the other boys wanted to know how the doctor
would accomplish that, so I explained how they would remove the scar tissue
and then sew the ends of the healthy skin together, thus reducing the
affected area to a smaller scar.  I told them the doctor would probably be
using self-absorbing stitches, so they wouldn't have to be removed later,
but they would still last long enough to allow the skin to grow back
together.  I also informed them that the doctor said Pat might need some
laser resurfacing later, to smooth out the rough spots on the skin, but
only if he discovered during the operation that the areas were too badly
affected to use the standard removal process.  The boys seemed to be
satisfied with my explanation, so we just sat and waited quietly from that
point on.

The boys had brought their portable CD players, hand-held games and some
magazines and books with them, to keep themselves occupied during our wait,
and I tried to read some magazines that I had brought with me as well.  I
was a bit nervous and really couldn't concentrate, so later I wasn't able
to recall any of the articles I had read, if that's what you could actually
call what I did.  A few hours after the operation had begun, the doctor
came out and told me that everything had gone well and he had been able to
repair all but one area today.  He would use the laser on that section at a
later time and smooth out the rough surface, so Pat's scars would be much
less noticeable to others from this point on.

I immediately thanked him for his help and asked what other things I should
know.  He told me Pat would have to stay overnight, for observation
purposes, but I could take him home tomorrow.  He also explained some of
the areas on Pat's face would be covered by bandages for a while, so I
would need to make sure Pat kept cold compresses on all of the treated
areas, in order to control the swelling.  He also suggested that Pat would
need to keep his head elevated while sleeping, for the same reasons, and
Pat would also have to curtail his activities for a few weeks and to try to
keep from getting stressed out.  If he were to go outdoors, he was to wear
a wide-brimmed hat, to shade his face from the sun and he'd have to use at
least an SPF 15 on his skin, once the bandages came off.  He gave me
prescriptions for creams for his face and drops for his eyes, telling me
precisely when and how I should use them.  When he had finished explaining
everything, I thanked him again, before he went about his other duties.

I tried to get the boys to go home at this point, but they wanted to wait
around and see Pat first.  I did convince them to go with me to the
cafeteria and grab a quick bite to eat before that happened and assured
them we'd return before Pat did.  After a hurried meal, we arrived back at
the waiting room just as a nurse came out to tell me that Pat was just
coming out from under the anesthesia and I would be allowed to go into the
recovery area and speak with him briefly.  As I approached Pat, I told him
not to try to talk, but to just listen.  I quickly assured him all of his
brothers were still here and they were going to wait until he was moved
into his own room, so they could come in and see him before I took them
home.  I then told him that after I made sure they had dinner, I'd come
back later and stay with him until visiting hours were over.  I would go
home at that time, but return in the morning, so I'd be there when he was
released and allowed to go home.

Pat nodded his understanding and squeezed my hand, to let me know he agreed
with what I told him and appreciated everything each of us had done.  When
Pat was finally moved into a room, we all trooped in to see him, after the
doctor assured the nurses it wouldn't be a problem, as long as we didn't
stay too long.  The boys went in to say hello to their brother and give him
their support, but it was also so they could assure themselves he was all
right.

A large portion of Pat's face was bandaged and they also had cold packs
over the covered areas, but his eyes were open and he knew we were all
there for him.  He waved weakly at us when we entered, just to let us know
he was aware of what was going on and to welcome us.  Once the others were
convinced that everything had gone well and Pat was going to recover, we
agreed it was time for me to take them home.  Pat waved at us again as we
departed, but both the doctor and I had told him not to speak, to avoid
stretching the skin against the stitches.  After his brothers said their
good-byes and told him they'd be back tomorrow, he closed his eyes and gave
in to his fatigue.  Thankfully, the boys all felt a little better since
they had been able to see him.

We had a pretty quiet dinner, since none of the boys were very talkative.
While my sons were cleaning up afterward, I went back to spend some more
time with Pat at the hospital.  Later, I was informed some of the boys'
girlfriends had called while I was out, but only to learn how Pat was
doing.  I think they were truly concerned, and didn't merely call to score
points with the boys, as they all knew Pat and were concerned about him.
We also got calls from everyone in the family, including those related by
blood and those we had just included as kin, as they were all anxious to
learn how Pat had made out as well.  Seeing many of them would be at
Frankie's party this weekend, they told us they'd see us all then, or maybe
even before, but they wanted us to give Pat their best.  We assured them we
would, and also confirmed they would be welcome to call back anytime over
the next few days, so we could let Pat listen to their get-well messages,
even though he wouldn't be able to respond.  I was almost positive we'd
hear from each of them again, either tomorrow or the day after, by phone or
in person.

After getting a good night's sleep, we went in to the hospital again early
the next morning and told Pat about all the people who had called to see
how he was doing.  I know this made him feel good, but I think he was more
impressed that all of his brothers had come in to be with him again.  Even
Mark was with us this time, as he told his boss he'd be a little late to
work, so he could run to the hospital to see Pat first.  That seemed to be
no problem, so here we were, all together and showing our strength and
unity as a family.

The doctor didn't arrive until around 9:00 and we all left when he came in,
so he could examine Pat and determine whether he could be released.  About
fifteen minutes later, Pat's doctor came out to tell me that everything
looked fine and Pat would be ready to go home in a little while.  He also
suggested I keep Pat on soft foods for a few days, which meant no steak or
anything else that might require heavy duty chewing.  He felt this
precaution was necessary, since he didn't want to risk strenuous movement
in Pat's facial muscles for at least a couple of days, so it wouldn't
adversely effect the healing process.  He also reminded me to keep cold
compresses available to Pat, to keep the swelling down and the pain under
control, and then he gave me a prescription for some painkillers, just in
case Pat needed them.  Before he left, the doctor also made certain I
remembered his instruction about the creams and eye-drops, and then told me
he wanted to see Pat next week, so I would need to call his office and set
up an appointment.

Before he left to see his other patients, I tried to pin him down about how
long Pat should wait before he began to talk and eat regular food again, so
the doctor told me to make sure he held off until at least Thursday, but
preferably Friday, if we could manage it for that long.  He explained the
longer he was able to delay this, the better the results would be, as it
would prevent the stitches from tearing through the skin.  He then went on
to explain that he really had to stretch the skin very tightly in a couple
of areas, as he discovered the width of the scarring had extended farther
than it had first appeared.  He explained that as he removed the damaged
tissue and tried to pull the unaffected areas together, some of the
surrounding area proved too fragile and came apart.  That's why he had to
stretch the skin so far, to cover these extended sections.

After listening to his explanation, I promised him I'd make certain that
Pat waited until at least Friday before doing any of those activities, but
I'd let him resume talking and enjoying some of his normal eating habits by
the weekend, since we'd be having a party and there would be many visitors
stopping by.  The doctor assured me that would be fine, but reinforced the
idea that I should also restrict Pat's general activities for several
weeks, in order to keep him as calm and relaxed as possible.  I told him
I'd do that as well, and then we waited to get word from the admissions and
billing offices that Pat had been officially cleared to go home.

Once we got back, the boys all took turns waiting on Pat, sitting with him
and trying to keep him entertained, while also remaining quiet.  This meant
they also censored some of the things he could watch or listen to, since
they didn't want him breaking out in hysterical laughter, as that could put
a strain on the affected areas as well.  Over the course of the rest of the
day, they did their best to make sure Pat was comfortable, stayed reclined
and had everything he needed, as well as taking precautions to keep him
from getting up and moving around too much.  They did this by bringing his
meals to him and retrieving whatever he wanted, so he could remain
comfortable and not take the chance of tripping as he moved about.

I told Pat I was going to let him use my bedroom until his next doctor's
appointment, so he could stay on the first floor and I wouldn't have to
worry about him going up and down the stairs.  I was going to sleep on the
sleeper-sofa, but Pat used the notepad the boys had given him to let me
know he expected me to sleep with him.  After all, it was a king-size bed
and there was plenty of room.  After discussing it with him for a few
minutes and explaining I was worried that I'd bump him during the night, he
wrote down a very good point, one that I hadn't thought about.  He reminded
me he wasn't supposed to talk, so he couldn't yell for me if he needed
anything.  If I were lying beside him, he'd only have to reach over and
shake me, and then I'd be there for him.  Besides, he reminded me his upper
body would be propped up on pillows, so the chances of anything like that
happening would be slim.  He finally won out using those arguments, so I
spent the night beside him.

Wednesday started off quietly enough, and once again the boys were treating
Pat like he was the king of this castle.  Just before lunch, Graham came up
to me and asked if we could talk and I told him we could.  However, he
quickly let me know this was something that needed to be done in private.
Since I didn't wish to argue the point, I followed him up to his room and
asked him what was up.

"Dad, you can't let Brent go on this trip," he unexpectedly announced.  I
was startled by his statement, but more curious as to why he had said it.
I was pretty sure it wasn't due to petty jealousy.

"Why do you say that?" I pressed.  "Why don't you think I should let Brent
go on vacation with his friend?"

"Because something bad is going to happen to him if he goes," he announced,
and I could see the concern etched on his face and even fear in his eyes.
There was no doubt Graham was serious and even somewhat scared about what
might happen.

"Why?  What do you know that I don't?" I asked him.

"It's just a feeling I have and things I've seen since you told him he
could go," he replied.

"Things you've seen?  What types of things?" I pressed, trying to gain a
better insight into his concerns.  For a moment, Graham hesitated, but his
eyes seemed to be staring a hole clear through me throughout the entire
time.  I think he was trying to judge just how much he should tell me and
how many details he should offer.  At this point, I think he decided
Brent's safety was more important than looking ridiculous, so he continued.

"I've seen black shadows around him ever since you told him he could go,
and those shadows are getting darker every day."  Hearing this, I was
somewhat speechless.  Ever since Graham's vision and pronouncements about
Sammy and Andrew's situation, I've had the feeling Graham might have some
kind of psychic ability.  Now, I believed it was time to explore the
reality of it being so.

"What do you mean, you've seen black shadows around him?" I pressed.  Once
again, Graham hesitated before he spoke.  I believe he was trying to decide
if I believed him or if I was going to make fun of what he might say next.
Seeing I had never reacted that way to him before, he decided to explain
what he meant.

"Dad, there's the dark shadow that goes all around his body and it's been
getting darker and thicker almost every day," he explained, in a quivering
voice.  "I know this means something bad is going to happen to him, so
please don't let him go on this trip."

"Graham, are you sure this isn't just a little jealousy on your part?" I
asked, just to make certain this didn't stem from sibling rivalry.  "Maybe
you just think that, because he'll be doing something you aren't?"

"No, Dad, that's not it at all," Graham responded, immediately.  "I don't
care if he goes with his friend.  I just want him to be happy, but I don't
want him to get hurt."

"Have you ever seen shadows like this before?" I wondered.  Once again, he
hesitated before he spoke.

"It's only happened twice before," he whispered, almost so low I couldn't
hear him.

"And what were those other times?" I wanted to know.  "Was it when you told
me about Sammy and Andrew needing our help?"

"No, it wasn't then," he confessed.  "That was something different, kind of
like a voice was telling me they needed our help."

"Okay, so what other times have you seen shadows like this?" I continued.

"Well, the first time it happened, I didn't understand what it meant," he
admitted.

"And when was that?" I persisted.

"The day you got shot," he replied, catching me completely off guard.  I
took a second to think about this, formulating how I planned to respond,
and then I spoke.

"Even though I was hurt in that deal, I didn't die from it," I announced,
"so maybe nothing serious will happen here either."

"But it wasn't quite the same," Graham replied.  "Back then, the shadows
around you were only a very dark gray.  I figured out what they meant after
you were injured and was afraid you were going to die."

"But I got better," I confirmed.

"Yes, but the shadows around you weren't black, like they are with Brent,"
he insisted.  I saw what he was getting at, but wasn't sure how to respond,
so I decided to find out about the second occurrence.

"What about the other time?" I asked.

"Well, that one's kind have been happening together with the one with
Brent," he finally admitted, although I could tell he was extremely
uncomfortable sharing this information with me.

"Together?  To whom else is this happening?" I wanted to know.  Graham
suddenly seemed to go pale when I asked this question, and over time he
actually started to respond twice, but nothing seemed to come out of his
mouth.  Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was actually only
minutes, he regained his composure and confirmed what he had seen.

"It's been happening to both you and Brent," he announced, with a look of
horror etched upon his face, "but your shadow isn't as dark or as thick as
his," he quickly added.  "Dad, you can't let him go!" he nearly screamed.
"If you do, something bad is going to happen to both of you."

I thought about what he had said for a second, trying to rationalize how I
was going to respond.  Even after racking my brain about this, I still had
no idea what I was going to say, so I decided to delay responding, by
asking him a few more questions.  "Graham, are you sure you're interpreting
this correctly?" I asked him, while doing my best to let him know I was now
concerned about this too.  "I mean, it really doesn't make sense, because
I'm not going with him.  If we're not going to be together, how can you be
so sure something is going to happen to him on this trip?  Maybe it will
only happen if we're together, so that might mean I SHOULD let him go.
Maybe the bad thing will only happen if he stays here.  Maybe this bad
thing is going to happen at home or in one of our cars, maybe when we go
some place, otherwise how will it affect both of us at the same time."

He thought about this for a minute or two before he answered me.  "I really
don't think that's it," he finally responded.  "I didn't start seeing any
of this until you told him he could go.  Once he started making plans, I
began seeing this shadow forming around his body, getting thicker and
darker every day, and then another one began to form around you too.
Please, Dad, make him stay here!  Don't let him go!  I don't want anything
to happen to Brent, but I don't want to lose you either."

I knew I had to try to calm Graham's fears and dispel his concerns.  "Okay,
let's look at this more closely," I suggested.  "What exactly do you mean
when you tell me he has a dark shadow around him?"

"It's like this dark area that goes all around his body, and yours too," he
explained, "although yours is more gray, like when you got shot.  Brent's
is more like a black cloud that goes around the outside of his body."

"Do you mean like an outline, as if someone traced around him with a big
magic marker?" I offered.

"Yeah, that's kind of how it is," he confirmed, while looking pleased that
I finally understood what he was trying to tell me.  "There's an outline
like that around both of you, but it's not like a line, it's kind of
shadowy.  Brent's outline is getting darker and blacker almost every day,
but yours is still kind of gray."

"Graham, I'm not doubting what you see," I told him, "but I still can't
understand how we could both be affected by the same event, especially if
he's going somewhere and I'm not.  Here's what we'll do.  I will tell Brent
to be extra careful while he's gone, but I'll also tell Jimmy's parents to
keep a close eye on him.  That should do the trick, don't you think?"

"No, I don't, Dad!" he shouted, as if he needed to speak louder to convince
me.  "I will watch and see if the shadows go away after you tell all of
them that, but I don't think it's going to be enough.  If doing that
doesn't change anything, then you've got to make him stay with us.  Will
you promise me that?"

"Graham, I won't promise exactly that, but I will agree to consider
everything before I let him go.  Will that be okay with you?"

"I guess it will have to do," he agreed, although not whole-heartedly, "but
I still think you should keep him home.  I'm really, really scared about
this."

"I know you are, or you would never have told me about it," I confirmed.
"I will take this seriously, but I'll hold off on my final decision for a
little longer.  In the meantime, I'll talk to Brent and Jimmy's family,
relaying our fears, without getting into specifics.  I won't say anything
about you, because I don't want any of them to think that you're trying to
spoil things for them."

Graham nodded his head in understanding, but I don't think that was a
primary concern for him.  He did realize I was trying to keep people from
making fun of him or ridiculing him because of his unusual ability... if
that was indeed what it was.  I would address his concerns with the others,
without laying any of the guilt or blame on him, and I'd insulate him from
any consequences, if I decided not to let Brent go.  I knew I would now
have to do some serious thinking about this situation, since I didn't want
to over-react in either direction.  One way or the other, someone would be
upset with whatever decision I made, so I just prayed I would make the
correct choice.



Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 4 by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 40 -- Shadows in Our Future.

Pat continued to heal nicely throughout the week and didn't seem to be in
too much discomfort.  His brothers continued to keep him company and take
care of him better than a private nurse ever could, and he wrote each of
them several messages of thanks.  In addition to some of our extended
family stopping by to see him, a few of his friends from school also came
by, including the boy who caused the accident initially.  He told Pat that
he was glad to hear that he got his sight back in the one eye and hoped
this operation took care of most of the problems with his face.  He also
told Pat he was looking forward to seeing him again in school in the fall,
after which Pat wrote him a thank you message, letting him know he was
quite moved by the visit.  Pat admitted he didn't expect to see him like
this and held no hard feelings about what had happened.

The boy seemed relieved and satisfied after reading that message and told
Pat he'd come back to visit, if Pat didn't mind.  Pat jotted down a quick
note explaining he'd like that, so the boy told him he'd come by again next
week.  When he left, I walked him to the door, thanked him for his concern
and informed him he was welcome to visit our home anytime.  He thanked me
before he left, but not before confirming that he planning to return next
week, and then he walked down the driveway and out of sight.

When Saturday arrived, the day for Frankie's party, Pat informed me that he
preferred to stay in the bedroom, rather than go out and take the attention
away from Frankie.  Even though I tried to explain to him that he'd draw a
certain amount of attention anyway, no matter what he did, he thought he
could limit it by staying somewhat secluded.  He announced this was
Frankie's day, so it should be Frankie enjoying his time in the spotlight.
I gave in and told him I'd bring him what he needed, so he wouldn't miss
out, but I also warned him to be prepared for a steady stream of visitors,
regardless of how he handled this situation.  He confirmed he understood
and thanked me for 'giving in' to his request, before I went out to make
sure everything was ready.

As the guests arrived, they each wished Frankie a 'Happy Birthday' and
chatted with him for a few minutes, but they also made sure to stop by to
see Pat too and inquire as to how he was doing.  As the day progressed, I
began to agree that Pat was most likely correct in his assessment and he
probably would have drawn more attention away from the real reason of this
get together, if he had joined in.  However, I was fairly confident it
wouldn't have bothered Frankie, since his primary focus was on just one
person -- the girl clinging to his left elbow.  Not that the rest of us
didn't matter to him, but she seemed to be monopolizing most of his
attention.

The party started off pretty much as usual, with the boys going out to play
their games in the side yard, and I almost backed out when they began to
choose up teams.  I was thinking it would be best if I stayed out of it, so
I could take care of Pat, but then I realized this would be unfair to
Frankie, since I'd always participated at the other boys' parties.  I
finally conceded there were other people around who could help Pat, if he
should need assistance, so confident with that knowledge, I went ahead and
joined in with the others.

After the game ended and while the others were cooling down, I stoked up
the grills and then went to get the meat, so I could begin barbecuing.
While I was doing that, everyone else was moving around and talking to the
others present, but some of my sons decided they'd rather focus on more
intimate forms of socialization with their current significant other.  I
noticed a few of them disappearing into the house or going for walks in the
woods behind our house, but everyone returned by the time everything was
ready and I started to serve it up.  Eagerly, the entire group surged
toward the food table and began to load up their plates, with some quickly
returning for seconds, or even thirds.

Pat ended up with numerous plates being brought to him, as several of his
brothers thought it was their duty to take care of him.  He laughed when I
came in carrying my offering and pointed at the collection of food that was
already there.  After sorting through the different plates and letting him
take what he wanted, I took some of the remaining items back with me,
thinking others might benefit from what Pat didn't need.

Everyone seemed to have a healthy appetite and the boys made sure that none
of the food went to waste.  After the meal was finished, Frankie opened his
presents, as was the custom, and thanked everyone for the lovely gifts he
had received.  After that, all of us sat around and chatted for a while,
until we were ready for the cake and ice cream.

A short time after we finished our desserts, some of the adults began to
say their good- byes, but not before wishing Frankie 'Happy Birthday' one
more time and thanking us for the wonderful day.  Eventually, only my sons
and their dates remained, so I grabbed a few of the younger boys to help me
clean up and carry everything back into the house.  As it started getting
dark, my macho studs took their girlfriends out for a little stroll under
the stars, while also utilizing the more than adequate illumination from
the light of the three-quarter moon to see by.  I tried not to think about
what might occur along the way.

The boys didn't take the girls home until between ten and eleven that
night, with Danny driving them around to drop them off.  Each boy took some
time to exchange a personal farewell with his girlfriend before they
parted, and my boys arrived back home shortly after eleven.  Once they were
all back, the older boys gathered in the recreation room, which just
happens to be next to my bedroom, to compare notes.  Ironically, because it
had been a nice breezy day, the windows in both rooms were open, so I was
able to overhear their conversation, without even trying.

"Well, Frankie, did you get any special presents tonight?" I heard a voice
ask.  I thought it sounded like Dustin who spoke, but rather than focusing
on the speaker, I was wishing I could have seen the look on Frankie's face
when he was confronted like that.  I could only imagine the smug,
cat-that-ate-the canary expression he flaunted as he gave his response.

"Yeah, I did," he admitted.  "Remember when we disappeared into the house?
Well, we went up to my room and she let me do her, telling me that was her
birthday present to me.  How about the rest of you?  Did any of you guys
score?"

There were various tales told about how each of the boys had made out, and
Dustin seemed to be a bit dejected when he announced his girl was 'on the
rag', so he only got a blowjob.  Some of the other boys had a good laugh
about that, but then I was surprised when I heard a voice I wasn't
expecting to hear from.  Needless to say, I was quite floored when I heard
Dion announce that he'd gotten laid too.

He told his brothers that he and his girlfriend took a walk back into the
woods earlier and ended up at the old tree house.  He explained that after
a little coaxing, they climbed up where it would be safe and no one could
see them, and she finally let him do what he wanted.  He had taken a rubber
out with him, hoping for such an opportunity to ARISE, along with his dick,
so there was no hesitation on his part.  She had explained that she wasn't
scared off by his 'size,' like his old girlfriend had been, and that's when
his brothers wanted the details of what he thought of it.

"So, how was your first pussy, little bro?" Ricky wanted to know.

"It was good and I got off okay," Dion announced.  "I think she enjoyed it
too."  Even though his words said one thing, I think I caught a lack of
sincerity in what he told them.  Maybe it wasn't quite as good as he'd
anticipated.

"I'll bet she did," Frankie came back, "riding that big old hog of yours.
She'll probably be very disappointed if she ever tries it with another guy
now."  All the boys were laughing and teasing Dion about that, and Dion was
playing right along with his brothers.

For my part, I didn't think he was telling the whole story.  I wasn't sure
if Dion hadn't enjoyed what he had done earlier or if he was merely
uncomfortable about telling his brothers the details, but none of his
brothers seemed to pick up on the same cues I had.  After a few more
minutes of this banter, the boys called it a night and headed up to their
rooms, so I heard no more about what had gone on with them earlier.

Sunday, after church, Graham came up to me and asked if I had talked to
Brent or spoken with Jimmy's family yet.  I explained I hadn't yet, but I
would do both things this afternoon.  Although he was somewhat disappointed
I hadn't already done this, my comments seemed to make him feel a little
better.  When we got home, I called Brent into my room to explain my
concerns.

"Yeah, Dad, what do you need?" he responded, cheerily.

"I don't need anything, Brent," I told him.  "I just want to talk to you
about your upcoming vacation with Jimmy and his family.  I'm concerned that
something might happen on this trip and I want you to promise me you'll be
extra careful while you're away.  No going swimming without his parents
there to watch over you, I don't want you showing off or taking any foolish
chances and I don't want you going off without the adults.  You'll be in a
strange place and you won't know anyone there, so I want you to do whatever
Jimmy's parents tell you.  Will you promise me that?"

"Sure, Dad, but why are you so worried?" he wanted to know.  "I CAN take
care of myself."

"I know you can and I can't explain why I'm so troubled about this," I told
him.  "I just want you to be extra careful and not take any chances.  I'm
letting you go enjoy yourself, but I want you to come back to me in one
piece.  All right?"

"Okay, Dad.  I'll be careful," he agreed.  "You don't have to worry about
that."

"Thanks and I appreciate the fact that you're going along with me on this
one," I told him.  "I want you to have a good time, but just be careful."

"I will, Dad," he confirmed, before leaving the room.

After that conversation had ended, I drove down to Jimmy's house and spoke
to Jimmy's parents.  I just told them that Brent could sometimes be a
risk-taker and a daredevil, so I was a little concerned he might get
carried away or do a little showing off.  They told me they would take good
care of him and watch over him the entire time.  I thanked them for their
assistance with this matter and said good-bye, but not before asking them
not to mention to Jimmy what we had discussed.  They assured me they
wouldn't and I left.

When I returned home, I intentionally didn't say anything to Graham about
having spoken to everyone involved, as I preferred to wait and see if he
brought the subject up again.  Nothing more was said that day, so I thought
my chats may have taken care of the problem.

Monday afternoon, I took Pat down for his follow-up examination, so the
doctor could judge if the healing process was progressing as he hoped.
When Pat was called back, I got up to go with him, but the nurse told me
the doctor wanted me to remain in the waiting room for a little longer.
She explained she would come back and get me when the doctor was to a point
where he wanted me to join them, so I sat down again.  I was slightly
confused about this, although I didn't say anything, and picked up a
magazine instead, to help occupy the time.

I wasn't used to being relegated to the waiting room in this manner, as my
boys usually wanted me to be with them whenever something major was
happening.  Although this wasn't an earth-shaking exam, I had to wonder why
I was being left out.  After sitting and mulling it over in my mind, I came
up with a few ideas.  First, the doctor might have been planning to test
Pat's skin sensitivity or something of that nature and didn't want me
unintentionally giving him signals or reacting at the same time.  Second,
it was possible he was worried about how I might respond when seeing Pat's
face for the first time since the operation.

The doctor had insisted I leave Pat's bandages alone until after this exam,
since he didn't want to risk any sort of infection.  He did have me use the
drops in Pat's eyes, to keep them from drying out, but told me the cream
was only to be applied if Pat complained that the skin under the bandages
was irritated or itched so badly that he might be tempted to try scratching
where it itched.  Otherwise, he wanted the area to remain covered and not
exposed to germs.  Although I still wasn't certain of his reasoning, my
best guess was that Pat's doctor most likely decided it best to see him
alone first, to prevent anything out of the ordinary from happening.  .

In continuing this line of thought, I also figured that after the doctor
had finished with Pat, he would then try to prepare me about what to
expect, before I came into the room, that is, if the situation warranted
it.  A few minutes later a nurse came out to get me and led me back to the
examination room Pat was in.  As she opened the door to let me in, I could
see Pat seated on the table.  This was the first I had seen his head
without the bandages since before the operation, so I wasn't sure what to
expect.  Although I wasn't surprised by his appearance, I guessed it looked
worse than it actually was.  His face was still slightly swollen and
discolored, but there were only a few red marks on his face, indicating
where the stitches joined the skin together.  I knew the redness would
disappear relatively quickly, so I hoped the other issues would follow
suit.

When the doctor looked up, he called me over and explained about each area
to me.  Before he finished, he also pointed out the one patch he would need
to smooth out with the laser later, but assured me that process would
eliminate the last of the obvious damage.

Pat was still holding a hand-mirror the doctor had given him, so he could
see everything as it was being described to me.  I told the doctor he had
done a marvelous job, not only to stroke the doctor's ego, but to hopefully
build Pat's confidence as well.  After thanking me for the compliment, the
doctor instructed me I would now have to start applying the creams over the
scars, along with continuing to put the drops in Pat's eyes.  I assured him
I had no problem doing either, and then he asked us to make another
appointment for the following week.  As he was doing that, he was also
applying smaller coverings over the areas he had operated on, instead of
having the larger bandages cover most of Pat's head, as had been the case
since the surgery.

Once Pat was ready, we walked back out to the reception area, made another
appointment and then strolled out to the car.  Pat was quite excited on the
way back and announced he was pleased with the results of his latest
surgery.  He was no longer worried about being ugly or anyone calling him
scar face, because it looked as if hardly anything would be visible, once
the laser treatment was completed.  I agreed and Pat had to fight to not
break into a huge grin, as he was still worried such an exaggerated
movement might cause a problem.

When we arrived back home, Brent asked me to assist him with his packing,
as he would be leaving for his trip on Wednesday.  He wanted me to help him
decide what he should take with him, as he didn't want to get there and
then discover he'd forgotten something he needed.  While we were alone, I
also reminded him to wish Kevin a 'Happy Birthday' before he left, since
he'd be missing Kevin's party on Saturday.  We both knew Kevin wasn't too
pleased about Brent going without him in the first place, but the fact that
he would also be missing Kevin's party was almost too much for Kevin to
deal with.

After I brought this up, Brent informed me he had already purchased Kevin's
card and gift, and was planning to give them both to him tomorrow night,
before he left.  I told Brent I was pleased he had planned ahead like that,
and when I happened to look up, I saw Graham standing in the doorway, just
gawking at the two of us together.  He didn't say a word, but he had a very
strange look on his face, and he called me to his room shortly after I'd
finished with Brent, making it clear he wished to talk to me once more.

"Dad, your telling him to be careful and warning Jimmy's parents to watch
over him hasn't changed anything," he announced, nearly panicked.  "You
both still have those shadows around you and I just know something bad is
going to happen.  Please don't let him go.  I know I'm right and we're
never going to see Brent again, if you don't keep him here."

Seeing how worried he was about this, I pulled Graham against my chest and
hugged him tightly, in an effort to reassure him.  Once I release my grip
on him, I sat down on his bed and pulled him onto my lap, so we could
discuss this further.  "Honey, I can't just tell Brent he can't go," I
tried to reason.  "I know you think what you see is real, and it just may
be so, but there's also a chance there might be some interpretation
problems here.  I don't see how Brent and I can both be harmed if we aren't
going to be together.  We'll just put him in our prayers and ask God to
watch over him, but I know I'll hurt him deeply, if I suddenly tell him he
can't go now."

Graham argued with me for several more minutes, trying to convince me to
change my mind, but I couldn't ruin this trip for Brent without having
something more reliable or substantial to base my decision on.  I've always
tried to teach the boys that life is a series of risks and we have to make
choices, and as long as those decisions are not made hastily or without
careful consideration to the relevant facts, they should be just fine.  I
wasn't going to make any of us withdraw from life and hide over some dream
or vision, or just because one of us suspected something might go wrong.  I
would need something more substantial than that to base those kinds of
decisions on.  Graham was mad at me for not supporting him on this, and
spat out that I'd regret this later.  After calming down a bit, he did tell
me he still loved me and hoped I was right about everything, but confirmed
he still thought this whole trip was a huge mistake.  I think we both went
to bed that evening with Brent's departure weighing heavily on our minds.


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.