Date: Tue, 15 Jun 2010 08:24:55 EDT
From: Bwstories8@aol.com
Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening - Book 7, chapters 21 - 22

The Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening --Book 7 - by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 21 -- Moving On.

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

Now that our legal woes were behind us and the college boys had returned to
their campuses, those who were still at home put all their energy into
planning our Halloween haunted house.  They wanted to outdo themselves this
year and I decided to let them do it, thinking it would be good for them to
direct their energies elsewhere and forget about what the family had just
gone through.  Over the next few days, they told me their suggestions and
then I would do one of three things -- okay their idea, help modify it or
reject the suggestion outright, since some of their proposals were
outrageous.  After a few heated discussions, we finally agreed on a plan
and the boys set about putting it into action.

While they were working on their ideas for Halloween, I had something else
to concern myself with, Cole's next birthday.  He would be turning eighteen
this year and I wanted to make a big deal of it for him, since I thought he
could use a boost.

There was another reason I felt this way.  Trey and Vinnie had been talking
excitedly about their college plans, but Cole and I both knew he wouldn't
be going on.  Cole didn't especially care for school, due to his learning
difficulties, so I needed to give him something else to focus on and make
him feel good.  He hadn't said anything, but I could sense his uneasiness,
whenever he heard the other two go on about their plans.  I thought he also
felt he was a disappointment, although I tried to assure him he wasn't.  By
the way he was moping around the house, I could tell his self-esteem was
slipping another notch every time the other two innocently went on about
their future plans.

I tried to distract him on a couple of different occasions, by asking him
how work was going on the car he was fixing up.  That would temporarily
bring him out of his funk and get him animatedly talking about what he was
up to.  I could see how passionate he was about doing this and felt it
might be the key to his future.

Just like we had for Andrew, I planned a small, family gathering for his
birthday, but I also had a little surprise in mind, hoping it would make
the day memorable for Cole.  With this in mind, I made some inquires and
did everything I could to pull this off.  I was actually a little excited
as Cole's big day approached.

After everyone had gathered at the house, they wished Cole a happy birthday
and gave him his gifts, which he would open later.  Once that had been
completed, we sat down to eat.  I had allowed Cole to choose the menu,
which he had very diligently done, and when the meal was over, we sat
around socializing for a while, before we had cake and ice cream and let
Cole open his gifts.

I saved my present for last.  After he finished unwrapping everything else
and thanking whomever gave it to him, I handed him mine.  It was a large
manila envelope, and this in itself made Cole curious.  Carefully, he
opened it and pulled out the paperwork inside.  I had prepared everything
on my computer.  Slowly, he read it over, before he shot across the room
and threw his arms around my neck.  "Dad, this is fantastic!" he exclaimed.

Of course, this got everyone wondering what I had given him, because I
hadn't divulged this information to anyone beforehand, not even Jake.
"Well, what is it?"  Mrs. Spence finally inquired.

"Dad got me a job at the car dealership on weekends, but that's not all.
It's also a guarantee from the owner that I will be hired full-time after I
graduate, if I do a good job.  It also says the owner will send me to
various automotive classes when I do work for him full-time, for more
advanced training.  It's just what I was hoping for.  I love working on
cars and I can't imagine anything I'd like to do more.  Thanks, Dad, I love
you."  He was kind of doing a little dance, he was so excited, but suddenly
he stopped and turned toward me again, and spoke.

"I was really feeling bad, cuz I'm not smart enough to go to college, but
this is far better.  I don't mind going to school to learn about fixing
cars.  You do that by working on them and I can learn that way.  I just
don't do well learning from people talking or by reading books."

This was his way of justifying things for everyone else.  He knew I
understood what he was feeling, since we'd discussed it many times.  I was
thrilled he felt so strongly about doing this and it was nice to see my
assumption vindicated.

Once Cole finished, everyone began asking both of us questions.  They
wanted to know more about what Cole had been doing, how this would tie in
with those activities and what this meant for him, in the long run.  Cole
was happy to fill in those who had been unaware of his activities.  He told
them he was taking automotive classes at school and about his efforts to
fix up the old car I'd allowed him to purchase.

Everyone listened intently to his story and even asked questions and made
comments along the way.  Each of them seemed sincerely interested in what
this meant to him and I think this not only gave Cole something to look
forward to, but it also eased his conscience about not attending college.
I was euphoric it had all worked out so well -- even better than I had
hoped.

The rest of the day went very smoothly and everyone seemed to have a good
time.  Some of our extended family went out of their way to stop and
congratulate me on my creative solution to Cole's problem.  Even Jake told
me he hadn't seen that coming, but thought it was an excellent idea, before
teasing me about how many other secrets I had kept hidden from him.
Playing along, I told him at least a trunk full, which surprised him even
more.  I don't believe he expected me to respond in that fashion, but
instead assumed I would try to reassure him it was the only one.  Leaving
him to wonder, I jokingly punched him in the arm and then walked away,
choosing not to pursue this any further.

Once our guests had left and things quieted down, I went over to Jake and
explained that I would never keep anything of importance from him, just to
ease his doubts.  After that, I answered a few more of his questions, to
relieve his suspicions completely, and then we headed off for some quiet
time alone, something I think both of us desperately needed.  By the next
day, all of his doubts were behind us.

The boys went into high gear now, as there was only a little over a week to
go before it would be Halloween and they needed to finish their
preparations.  They had worked hard on what they had planned for this year,
since what they intended to do was even more elaborate than their previous
attempts.  When the big day arrived, I was pleased to discover their plans
had come together nicely.

Since Halloween isn't celebrated in Australia, this would be Peter's first
brush with Trick-or-Treaters.  The night before Halloween, the boys decided
to take Peter through alone, so they could practice for the following
night.  Although he wasn't prepared for some of the scares he would
receive, he seemed to enjoy himself.

"That was jolly good fun," Peter stated, once he'd gone through.
Afterward, he admitted his comment sounded as if his grandfather had made
it, rather than him, since he didn't usually say things like that.
However, we got his point.

"I can't wait to see how others react to those ghouls," Peter continued,
before eagerly asking if he could follow the first group in.

I told him not only could he follow the first group in, he could also serve
as guide for some of the later groups too, so he could also see how they
reacted.  Peter loved the idea and eagerly agreed to do what I'd suggested.

The boys were excited when they awoke on Halloween morning and it made me
wonder if I would be able to get them through the day at school.  I knew
they probably wouldn't be able to concentrate on their class work, but I
wasn't about to let them take the day off.  I made sure they all went to
school, but by the time they arrived home afterward, they were all so hyper
they literally flew about the house to get ready for the big night.

As always, we had someone out front who kept all the trick-or-treaters
gathered in one place, until he directed them to go around to the back of
the house.  If you remember, last year I was dressed up as a scarecrow and
sat in a rocking chair on the front porch, but this year I let one of the
boys do it.  They were in costume, but not as inconspicuous as I had been.

The Trick-or-Treaters would enter through our rear door and move into the
rec room first, before they were directed to the other areas.  On their way
to our backdoor, they passed by the familiar tombstones, which included the
names of some of the most famous murderers in history, such as Jack the
Ripper, Jeffrey Dahmer, John Wayne Gacey, Son of Sam, Adolf Hitler, Joseph
Stalin, Vlad the Impaler and Osama Bin Laden, but this year they had added
one more, Saddam Hussein.  His tombstone was placed closest to the door, so
people would notice it, but there was a more sinister reason for doing this
too.

As the first set of costumed youngsters made their way to our door, we soon
heard a series of screams, which meant the first surprise of the night had
been sprung.  The boys had dug a shallow hole in front of Saddam's
tombstone, big enough for one of them to lie down in, and Dion eagerly
volunteered for this job.  Over top of the hole, I had made a hatch, with a
small trap door in it and fastened an artificial grass rug to it, before
Dion took his place.

As the first group made its way to our door, Dion reached through the small
opening and grasped one of the Halloweener's legs.  This startled the
person and caused the first scream, which in turn scared some of the others
into doing the same thing.  Not giving them a chance to investigate what
happened further, I opened the door and invited them inside.

The children looked relieved to come indoors, but that was short-lived.  As
they entered, the room was filled with various spooky sounds, provided by a
commercially prepared CD being played on a portable player.  Our guests
immediately focused on the casket, where in the past we had another boy
hidden, dressed as Dracula.  This diversion helped to set up the next
surprise, which came from the other side of the room.  Graham, Sammy and
Andrew, all dressed as some creepy alien life forms, slid noiselessly
across the carpet and grabbed one of the unsuspecting visitors.  This set
off another series of screams and I could only imagine what the group
waiting out front was thinking at this point.

>From there, the children were led down to the basement, through a series
of strings that dangled in their path, each with a different grotesque
plastic creature attached to it.  Once they got to the bottom, the boys had
set up large aquariums, which they had filled with various creepy delights.
One of the tanks held spiders, the next a variety of bugs, another was
filled with worms, snails and slugs, and the final tank held a collection
of various reptiles inside.

The boys had also hooked up spotlights above and behind each tank, which
they would turn on, one at a time, as the children approached.  This
highlighted what was contained within, and seeing this series of revolting
animals elicited a few more cries and screams, which was quickly followed
by some gleeful cackling from my sons.

After getting away from that area, the children were led past a table
containing an array of body parts, most of which seemed to be able to move
on its own.  First there was a bloody arm, which would reach out and
attempt to grab passers by.  Then there was a pair of eyes, which appeared
to be suspended in a frame dangling in midair, and the eyes would appear
and disappear with varying frequency.

Trey was the one that had volunteered to do this.  He had a black, cloth
mask over his face, so only his eyes showed, but the boys had also put
black makeup over his eyelids and around his eyes, so when his eyes were
closed, the entire box looked empty.  We also had a black light
illuminating the area, so when he opened his eyes it would not only give an
eerie effect, but also make the eyes appear as if they were attached to
nothing.

Finally, there was a severed head, which sat on a platter and would open
its eyes and speak as the children walked by.  In reality, the head
belonged to Vinnie, who was made up to look like a very haggard Saddam
Hussein, complete with the infamous beret.  This area turned out to be very
popular, but we had to keep the children moving, so those waiting outside
could have a turn too.  Once our visitors collected their treats, they were
led back upstairs, so they could exit out our front door.  By this time the
next group would be entering the rear of the house, as the cycle continued.

By the time the evening had ended, we were all extremely exhausted, but had
also enjoyed ourselves immensely.  The trick-or-treaters gave us many
favorable comments about their time here and genuinely appeared thrilled
with our efforts.  That, alone, more than made up for all the work we had
done and the long day we had just put in.  In fact, the boys were already
talking about what they wanted to do for Halloween next year.  It was nice
to see them so excited about doing something like this again.

October now gave way to November and Jake and I began to prepare for our
Thanksgiving holiday, which would be the first without my older children.
I was fairly certain three of them wouldn't be coming and the fourth had
already told me he had too much going on to be able to get away.  We called
the members of our extended family to let them know they were invited again
and then we began to plan the menu.  I tried to keep my spirits up, even
though inwardly I was depressed because I wouldn't be seeing my older
children and grandchildren this year.  Jake immediately picked up on this
fact and wanted to do something to help me get through it.

"We could just make it a quiet gathering this year," he suggested, while
giving my shoulders a gentle squeeze.  "Maybe that would make it a little
easier on you."

"NO!"  I was emphatic.  "I will not change the way we do things, because
that would be unfair to the rest of the family.  I'll be damned if I'll let
those brats ruin our holiday.  They may wish to stay away, but I'm not
going to pine about it and bring everyone down with me.  We will do things
the same as we always do and I don't want to discuss this again."

I was only trying to emphasize my intent, but when I looked into Jake's
eyes, I realized I had hurt his feelings with my outburst.  Here he was
trying to help me, because he was concerned about how I was feeling, and I
had more or less exploded in his face.  Without meaning to, I had once
again managed to hurt someone who only had my best interests at heart.
After apologizing profusely for my tirade, we sat and talked about the
situation in depth.

"Jake, I didn't mean to go off on you like that and I DO appreciate your
concern, but I can't let my older children's decision effect the way we do
things.  We must keep everything as normal as possible, if only for the
boys' sake.  I want things go on as usual and I'll deal with this situation
on my own, and in my own way, so I won't drag the rest of you down with
me."

"I thought we were partners?" Jake stated succinctly, but in a questioning
manner.

"We are," I agreed, in an effort to reassure him, but I wondered where he
was going with this.

"Well, if we're partners, shouldn't we discuss this, or anything else which
affects us jointly or affects the family?  If I'm a part of this, I want to
be included in the decisions too."  I immediately agreed with his logic and
let him know so.

"Okay, you're right and I apologize for the way I acted," I offered.  "I
will talk things over with you from now on, but I hope you can see why I
feel as I do about this."

"Oh, yes, I do, and I'm willing to go along with you on it," he confirmed.
"I was just trying to offer another option, but if you think this is the
best way to go, then I'll support you one hundred percent."

I again thanked Jake for his understanding and we began talking about this
situation in greater detail.  Soon, things were pretty much back to normal
between us and we continued to plan for Thanksgiving.  We also talked about
ways to ensure I didn't get overly depressed or dwell upon these problems
during the holiday season.

Jake suggested one way to do this would be to concentrate on Dion's
birthday, which happened to fall on Thanksgiving Day this year.  Dion would
be turning sixteen, and by focusing on his birthday and Thanksgiving
dinner, Jake figured it would give me plenty to occupy my time.  I knew he
was right about the distraction, and by concentrating on both events; it
would give me less time to feel sorry for myself or think about what I
might be missing.

Planning for these events did keep me going and took up most of the time I
wasn't spending at work.  It also caused me to actually become a little
excited as the twenty-seventh approached.  We had decided to have
Thanksgiving dinner around 2:00 and then celebrate Dion's birthday later
that evening, probably around 6:00 or so.  I had previously discussed this
with Dion and gave him the choice of having his party then or waiting for
the weekend to do it, but he seemed to think it would be less of an
inconvenience to do it all at the same time.  However, he did suggest that
maybe we could do something special on Saturday too, just not a party.  I
agreed with his recommendation, so everything was set.

Wednesday night, before Thanksgiving, Jake and I spent most of the night
preparing various dishes for the next day.  The boys helped with the other
preparations, by getting the dining room ready and setting up the extra
tables we would need to accommodate our guests.

Mark and Frankie were already doing their share as well.  They had left
Tuesday night to pick up the college boys, which freed Jake and I up to
focus on the cooking responsibilities.  As the two of us were preparing the
pies and other deserts, the vehicles began to roll in with our college
crew.  Soon, the house was full of the chaotic sounds and innocent
horseplay I had grown to love.  On their own, the boys had managed to find
the best distraction of all for me.

The funny thing was, some of the roles were now reversed and my normal
prankster, Ricky, had become the brunt of the practical jokes, instead of
the instigator.  Actually, we were all puzzled as to who pulled this off,
since no one took credit for what happened, but it was a riot as it went
down.

The college boys had all gone to their rooms to drop off their belongings,
but most came back downstairs almost immediately.  However, no one noticed
our missing boy, until we heard a loud crash, followed by frantic banging
coming from the second floor.  I was going past the staircase just as it
happened, so I ran up the steps to see what was going on.  When I reached
the top of the stairs, I discovered it was Ricky who had been making all
the noise and was now banging on the inside of his bedroom door.

"Ricky, what in the hell are you doing in there?" I screamed, thinking he
was either losing it or desperate for attention.

"Some bastard fixed my bed so it would collapse when I sat on it and then
put oil or something all over my doorknob, so I can't get out.  He also did
something else, cuz I got a shock when I touched the doorknob too.  I'm
going to find out who did this and beat the crap out of him.  Will you open
the door from out there?" he pleaded.

Suddenly, the lights began to go on in my mind.  Someone was getting
revenge.  I disconnected a battery that had hooked to the outside of the
doorknob and opened the door for him, which allowed Ricky to come shooting
out into the hall.

"I'm gonna get even," he warned me, bolting from his room, but I grabbed
and restrained him, hoping he'd calm down.  As I held him, he was looking
urgently about, to see if he could find the prankster laughing at him from
the background, but no one was there.  Next, he turned toward me.  His
nostrils were flaring and he had a crazed look in his eyes.

"You know who did this, don't you?" he challenged, thinking I knew more
than I did.

"No, Ricky, I don't," I admitted honestly, although he failed to believe
what I said.  He glared at me now, as if he thought I was in on it too.

"Honestly, I don't know anything about this," I stated, tying to convince
him, but he was unmoved.

"You know just about everything that goes on in this house," he argued, "so
why don't you know who did this?"

"Ricky, I only know what I see, hear or am told," I replied, "but this
time, none of that has happened."

I tried to look as serious as I could, so he wouldn't doubt me further.  He
studied my face carefully, to see if he could detect a cover up or a hint
of insincerity.  Detecting nothing, he began to back down from his stance.

"Well, I expect you to tell me, if you do find out who did this.  They're
going to be sorry," he threatened.

"Oh, when you do it that's okay," I challenged, "but not when it's done to
you?"  He shot me a look that told me he wasn't amused by my observation.

"Hey, they always try to get even with me too," he reasoned, "so why
shouldn't I get even with them?"

"Possibly they do," I admitted, "but who started all this in the first
place?"  Again, he was not amused.

"Damn!  Am I always going to be in the wrong just because I did those types
of things first?" he pouted.

"No, not in the wrong, but don't expect me to protect you from others doing
the same thing.  Remember, I never protected them from you."  I grinned at
him and he rolled his eyes.

"You're no help," he stated, dryly.

Leaving me behind, he went downstairs to see if he could solve the mystery
of who did this, but by bedtime he was no closer to finding the culprit.
Everyone teased him about it, but no one took credit, and this just seemed
to irritate him even more.  Frustrated, he eventually gave up and went to
bed, but not before putting his bed back together and taking an old rag to
clean the oil off his doorknob.

Jake and I also talked about it and tried to determine who had the guts to
challenge our numero uno jokester, but we couldn't come up with anyone in
particular.  Yes, they all were likely candidates, even Peter, but none
more than the others.  We were just as baffled as Ricky was.  I was just as
intrigued by this as anyone and couldn't wait to discover who had taken
Ricky on.



The Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening --Book 7 - by BW
Copyright 2009 by billwstories
Chapter 22 -- Family Ties.

The next morning, Jake got up early to begin preparing the turkey.  I
started to get up too, but Jake insisted I sleep in and he would take care
of everything.  Rather than argue, I did as he suggested, since I figured I
could use the extra time in the sack.  However, good intentions oft go
astray and it wasn't long before something roused me from my bed.

Without warning, loud music began blaring from several locations upstairs
and I jumped out of bed and raced into the hallway, but Jake nosed me out
from reaching the stairs first.  Without hesitating, we both bolted up the
steps, as some of the music began to die down, but everyone was already up
by then -- and it was only 6:30.

The boys were all staggering out into the hall looking for Ricky.  I
discovered they thought he had set this up, as his way of seeking revenge.
It seems Ricky, or someone else, had set all of their alarms for 6:30 and
arranged it so the radio would play, instead of the regular buzzer, and
then adjusted the volumes to maximum.  Therefore, when the alarms went off,
it had the greatest amount of shock value for the previously comatose
victims.

Soon the blame shifted away from Ricky, once the boys discovered the same
thing had happened to him.  Not only that, but he had an extra, added
surprise waiting for him.  As Ricky got out of bed, he stepped on a
collection of eggshells, which had been carefully arranged so he wouldn't
be able to avoid them.  They didn't hurt him or do any damage, but they did
make a mess and caused him sit back on his bed quickly, to get off of them.
When the boys went to accuse him, Ricky was still trying to wipe the pieces
of eggshell from the soles of his feet.

Jake and I soon discovered the shells came from all the eggs we had used to
make the desserts and other dishes we had prepared for Thanksgiving dinner.
The culprit had obviously come down after we all went to bed, sneaked into
Ricky's room after he had fallen asleep and then gone back to his own room
without being discovered.  I had no idea who would go to all this trouble
or who would be focusing on Ricky after he'd been away for so long.  It
wasn't that the others didn't have sufficient reason to want to do these
types of things to him, but it left us all baffled.  That is, everyone
except for the guilty party and he obviously wasn't going to own up to what
he had done.

"Does this happen all the time?" Peter asked.  I assured him it didn't, but
he looked skeptical.

At this point, some of the boys began to laugh, which quickly got everyone
else laughing too.  Before long, we were all giggling like a bunch of giddy
schoolgirls.  It was difficult to miss the ingenuity and humor in this
prank, yet none of us had the slightest inkling about who might have done
such a thing.  It seemed all the boys had been targeted, so it left no
obvious perpetrator to point the finger at.

It didn't take long for everyone to forget about being so rudely awakened.
Instead, they continued to enjoy the joke and the amount of planning it
must have taken to pull it off.  Even though they didn't know who had done
it, they silently tipped their hats to this mystery person.

After everyone else returned to his bed, Jake and I went downstairs, but I
decided to stay up and do what I could to help.  As we worked, we talked
about what had happened and tried to solve the mystery of who was doing
these things.  First, the prankster got Ricky in particular, before zapping
everyone, in general.  More than half of the boys were likely suspects,
which didn't help much, so we finally gave up thinking about whom the
mastermind was and, instead, began to focus on the day ahead.

The time seemed to fly as the appointed hour for dinner drew near.  Jake
and I took turns cleaning up and getting dressed, in preparation for our
guests' arrival, and then we went back to putting the finishing touches on
the meal.

It was about 1:30 when the phone rang and I was paged to take it.  "Hello,
this is Josh Currie," I said, after accepting it from one of my sons.

"Josh, it's Albert," the voice on the other end informed me.  "I'm afraid
we're going to be late, if we make it at all today."

"Albert, is something wrong?" I asked, deeply concerned.  I knew Arlene,
Little Ricky and Albert would not normally miss this for the world, so I
wondered what was up.  They seldom got away from the farm and had no
relatives in the area, but they did like to be around others, which was
difficult for them, because they lived so far out.  Other than their
neighbors, we were about the only other friends they were familiar enough
with to visit.

"There was a problem, but it's okay now," he advised me.  "It's just slowed
us up a bit and I'm not sure what we'll do next."

Albert sounded as if he was contradicting himself by telling me there was
no longer a problem, but then explaining he didn't know what they were
going to do next.  Sensing this incongruity, I decided to question him
about this matter further.

"Albert, what happened?  Is it Arlene?"  There was an uneasy silence,
before he replied.

"I'm afraid so.  She wandered out of the house earlier and it took us a
while to locate her," he admitted.  "She was nearly a mile away before we
found her."

"Is she okay now?"  I was concerned and worried that maybe something more
had happened.

"Yes, she seems to be fine... physically," he added, to let me know her
mental and emotional state was obviously deteriorating further.  "Even
though she hasn't done anything like this before, I guess it means we're
going to have to start keeping a closer eye on her."

"Did you find out why she left?" I followed, to see if he had questioned
her about it.

"Not exactly.  She was sputtering all kinds of gibberish about having to
get to town and she was mad about something we'd done to her," Albert
admitted, "but I can't remember any of those things happening over the past
couple of days, except maybe in her mind.  I'm afraid she's remembering
multiple past events, confusing them together and then reacting to her
warped recollections.  If that's what's happening, there's no way we can
predict what she might do next."

"Albert, I'm truly sorry to hear this, but we'll hold dinner for you," I
told him.  "We want all of you to be here with us on this special day and
I'm sure Little Ricky... I mean Richard, would benefit by being with the
boys again too."

"Josh, thanks, but I'm not sure that would be a good idea today," Albert
told me, in a hushed and slightly choked tone.

"Why do you say that, Albert?" I asked, confused by his comment.

"Richard is deeply troubled by what is happening," Albert admitted, "so I'm
not sure he'll want to be around anyone else.  I'm afraid he might not be
very good company today and I'm afraid of what he might do, if someone
mentions his mother's condition."

"Albert, I'll pass your concerns along, so the boys don't pressure him," I
offered, "but what about Arlene.  Being with us today might jog her memory
to more favorable times and that may be all that's needed to bring her back
to you and Richard, at least for a while."  There was a fairly lengthy
silence at the other end of the line, so I assumed he was considering my
proposal.

"I'm not sure there's anything that can bring her back to us, Josh, but I
guess it's worth a try," he finally answered.  "I don't see where it can do
her any harm, but it might be very hard on the rest of you -- seeing her
this way."  It almost sounded as if he were beginning to weep.

"Albert, we aren't just friends, you're family, and not only during the
good times," I began in response.  "You and Arlene have been with us
throughout our problems and the rough times in our lives too.  I'm not
saying it won't be difficult for any of us, but as family, we're willing to
take the bad with the good.  Get here as soon as you can and we'll hold
dinner until you arrive.  I'll explain it to the others and I'm sure
they'll have no problem with that."

"Thank you, Josh," Albert replied.  "This is very kind of you and we
appreciate your friendship and consider you family too.  We'll get there as
soon as we can, but there's no need to hold dinner for us.  We'll just eat
when we get there."

"Nonsense!  This is Thanksgiving and we'll eat as a family," I informed
him.  "I don't think there are any of us who will have a problem waiting a
little longer, and if there are, we'll give them a snack to tide them over.
We'll see you shortly."

We ended the phone call and I told Jake and the boys about what had
happened.  We were all concerned about what they were going through and I
could see the boys trying to come up with some way to distract Richard when
he got here.  I know they thought that might make him momentarily forget
about his worries, but I wasn't sure there was much they could do that
would permanently help him, at this point.  I did express Albert's concerns
about Richard and told them not to put any pressure on him.  I urged them
to leave him alone, if that's what he wanted.  They agreed, so I felt it
shouldn't be an issue now.

If Richard wasn't opposed to the boys trying to help, they might be
successful in making him forget about his problems for a brief time.
However, even if that happened, Richard still had to deal with the reality
of what is happening to his mother on a daily basis.  For that reason
alone, I highly doubted my boys would make much of a difference.  I did
silently applaud their concern and efforts on Richard's behalf and hoped
they would be effective.  Even if they were only successful in alleviating
Richard's fears and burden to a limited degree, it would still be a major
accomplishment.

We all continued our final preparations for this get together, as we waited
for our guests to arrive.  Although I was looking forward to having
everyone together again, this wasn't going to be an entirely easy or
pleasant time.  I felt confident the others would all agree with what I was
doing, but it wouldn't lessen their shock and deep concern, once they saw
how much Arlene had deteriorated.

To me, none of that mattered.  I believe family bonds are the strongest
bonds of all, and if the phrase 'until death do us part' ever applied to
anything, it is to the ties between family members.  Albert had already
proved his devotion to his wife and I felt we could do no less.  As I've
always told the boys, friends may come and go, but family is forever.
Thinking about this brought me to another issue, so now I wondered if my
older children remembered me telling them this too.

Today was already altered by the fact that my older children and
grandchildren weren't going to be here, so I didn't want to have anyone
else sit this one out too.  I had been trying not to think about it, but
after hearing about what Albert was dealing with just brought it to the
forefront again.

Once Steve and Mary Shay, Sally, John and Margaret Spence, Mark's mother,
Susan, the O'Hara's and the Curtises, showed up, we explained to them about
my phone call from Albert.  They were all deeply moved and understanding
about their situation, and each of them expressed their concern and support
for them.  Even though Susan, the O'Hara's and Curtises didn't know the
Beckers as well as the rest of it, they still wanted to help.  It was
obvious this was truly a family, even though we weren't blood related.

Jake and I put some appetizers out for our guests to nibble on and gave
each of them a drink, hoping it would hold them over until the Beckers
arrived.  We didn't really have to wait long, however, as Albert's car
pulled in the driveway slightly before 3:00, which made dinner less than an
hour late.  They must have flown through their preparations to get here and
I'm sure Albert pushed the speed limit a bit along the way too, probably
because he was concerned about holding the rest of us up.  I hoped he and
Richard would be able to relax and enjoy themselves, now that they were
here and we'd be able to help them entertain and keep an eye on Arlene.  I
went over to greet them, as they entered.

"We're all glad you could make it," I told them, as they entered.  "Come
in, sit down, and make yourselves comfortable.  Would any of you like a
drink?"  Albert was just about to speak and accept my offer, when his wife
spoke first.

"Albert, who are all these people and where are we?"  There was a deep look
of concern on both Albert and Richard's faces, as they studied Arlene.
Although she didn't know us, at least she had called her husband by name.
That, in itself, seemed to be an improvement.

"Arlene, this is Josh Currie and we're in his home," Albert explained,
while looking slightly embarrassed.

"I don't know anyone by that name," she stated, which caused a pained
expression to show on Richard's face.  I could tell he was also embarrassed
by his mother's comment, but he needn't be.  We all understood what they
were going through.

"Sure you do," Albert assured her.  "He and his boys are very good friends
of ours.  Surely you must remember how they helped us find and adopt
Richard?"

Arlene didn't respond and Albert gave up on trying to convince her she knew
us.  After asking Richard to watch over his mother, Albert walked away and
I knew he was inwardly dealing with the pain of seeing his wife like this.

I followed him, to see if there was anything I could do to help, but I
didn't want to be too pushy about it.  He didn't notice me behind him when
he stopped, so I walked up and put my hand on his shoulder, which caused
him to turn and look at me.

"Josh," he confided, "I don't know what I'm going to do.  We can't possibly
leave her alone any more, because she might wander off or do something
inappropriate.  She's so out of it that she's become a danger to not only
herself, but to Richard and me too.  Did I tell you she almost set the
house on fire on several different occasions?"

"Yes, you did," I conceded, "and I can see she's getting worse.  When
making your decision, you'll have to not only consider her welfare, but
your own and Richard's too.  No decision will be easy, but you have to do
what you think is best for all of you."

I added that to let him know he couldn't just worry about his wife, but
must also consider how it will affect the two of them as well.  Albert's
health was not the best and I'm sure this was taking its toll on his
physical condition.  Not only that, but I could see it was also emotionally
draining on Richard as well.  I was just trying to make sure they didn't
all go down hill together.

"I know it's difficult for you to make such an impossible choice," I
admitted, "but we both realize you're running out of options."  After
listening to what I had to say and thinking about it for a few moments,
Albert finally looked up at me and spoke.

"Josh, I hate to do it, but I'm going to have to put her in a home," he
informed me, before breaking down.  Tears were streaming down his cheeks as
he said this and I could tell he felt as if he was betraying his wedding
vows, but what else could he do?

"She needs to be supervised constantly," he added, "and we just can't do
that for her on the farm.  As it stands now, I hardly dare to fall asleep
at night, because I fear she'll get up and do something.  It's just wearing
me out."

Albert hung his head after saying this and I wasn't sure if this was due to
his regret, embarrassment or because he was just so totally exhausted.  I
was tempted to hug him at this point, but wasn't sure how he'd respond to
something of that nature, so I held off on the urge.  Instead, I only put
my arm across his shoulders.

"I know, Albert, but from what you've told me, it has to be done," I
suggested.  "Otherwise, she's liable to do something that might harm you
and your son.  She could start a fire or forget who you are and think
you're intruders trying to hurt her or something.  She might even attack
you with a weapon, thinking she was defending herself.  What else can you
do, besides try to get her in a safe, caring and supervised environment?"

"I realize that," he agreed, "but you don't understand how much it hurts me
to even consider this option.  Richard and I have talked about this
possibility several times, but neither of us wants to have to do such a
thing.  No matter how much it bothers me to have to do this, it's going to
scar Richard worst of all.  He's already told me he feels like he's already
lost another mother, just seeing her the way she is now.  Making a move
such as sending her away to a nursing home will force him to accept it's a
done deal and she's pretty much gone for good."

"Do you think it might help if I spoke to him, Albert?"  I asked, trying to
help.  Mr.  Becker thought about this for a minute, before he responded,
and then he only nodded slightly.

"It might," he conceded, "but I'm not sure how much.  Thing is, I don't
think it can do any harm."

I acknowledged his observation and told him I'd do what I could, but it
would have to wait until after we ate.  I explained that I'd try to get
some time alone with his son, so we could talk honestly and openly about
the situation, without feeling the pressure of others being around.

Albert thanked me for my offer, but then stated we couldn't make the others
wait for dinner any longer.  It was shortly after that when I had the boys
get everyone moving to the tables, so we could sit down and begin our
Thanksgiving tradition.


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