Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Castaway Hotel - 7 - 21. Chapter 21 - Moving On
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.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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