Winning the Lottery - 21. Chapter 21 Trust

In the end, Jordan and Kelly accepted our gift of the house. MacKenzie’s persuasive powers had been passed on to Derrick, who skillfully convinced the guys that it was a true, unconditional gift, given from the heart.

In the next couple of weeks we worked through our ‘to do’ list concerning Dane. We enrolled him in the school that Cass had attended. His pediatrician, optometrist, and dental check-ups went without incident. One of Kelly and Khala’s cousins, Maila, was engaged to be our daytime nanny. (We decided to forgo a live-in nanny.) Dea-Con Security sent down an extra guard for Dane. We began to personalize Dane’s room with items of his own choosing. I made an appointment for the family with a well-respected child psychologist.

Dane was behind his peers in reading and math skills, but we insisted he be enrolled in a class with his age peer group. The compromise was that for two hours each day he would be taken out of his class for extra tutoring. Derrick and I would oversee his homework and, in conjunction with his teacher’s recommendations, help augment his skills.

Dane was attending a different school than Alfy. We’d thought about sending him to Alfy’s school, but in the end, with the concurrence of Kelly and Jordan, we decided separate schools might be a good thing given that the boys would spend a lot of time together outside of school.

Following Dr. Nahua’s suggestion, we engaged a dog trainer who would work with us Saturday mornings. With Border Collies it’s important to establish appropriate control, otherwise their herding instinct takes over and they can get bossy and overbearing. Dane was a natural and didn’t take any guff from Patsy. She clearly respected him. After the pecking order was established, the trainer began a fun game teaching Patsy the individual names of toys which she would fetch when asked. The game greatly amused boy and dog and soon Patsy could accurately fetch over individual toys.

One day a large package arrived. It was a selection of six pieces of Cree art that I’d ordered from the gift shop at the Moose Lake Mosakahiken Cree Centre. As we unwrapped each item, which was accompanied by a sheet with the artist’s bio and the cultural importance of the piece, we explained to Dane how important each was, representing his heritage and culture. We emphasized that he must always be proud of his culture and history. He got to choose two items he wanted for his bedroom, Derrick and I chose one item for our bedroom, and the other three were placed in the main living area of the house with the proviso that his grandparents (meaning Douglas and MacKenzie) would be able to choose an item for their house.

The night before Dane started school, we went over the school rules with him. It was a lot for him to absorb, but the gist of it was that students must be respectful of their teachers and fellow students. The consequences of disruptive behavior were pretty clear. We’d be informed, of course, and the student might face loss of recess privileges, or an in-school suspension (I think that used to be called ‘detention’).

On the first morning Derrick and walked him in to the principal’s office for introductions. The school, of course, knew us as Cass’s parents, and the meeting was brief. The principal welcomed Dane to the school, then a teacher’s aide came and escorted Dane to his classroom. I think Derrick and I were more nervous than Dane. Would Dane be accepted by his peers? Would Dane follow the rules? Would Dane be happy at school? Would he make friends? Okay, I admit, I was more worried than Derrick. As we drove home he reached out and took my hand. “Gabe, it will be fine. If there are any problems we’ll deal with them. As a family. Together.”

Derrick headed off to play with his plane. (Actually, he had a crew meeting. They were scheduled for a charter flight to the mainland.) I headed off to work for three or four hours, mainly to clear my head and get back to ‘normal.’ Jordan, of course, had told the staff that we’d adopted Dane, and they all congratulated me heartily. My patients all had common complaints: sore knees, skin problems, chest colds... Fairly straight forward, but challenging nonetheless to rule out more serious pathologies.

When it was time to leave and pick up Dane from his first day of school, there was a message waiting on my phone from the principal. Dane had been in an altercation with another student and would I stop by her office to discuss the situation.

Damn!

I was pretty upset upon hearing that news, and I turned to Jordan for support. Instead of commiserating with me, he laughed and said, “Welcome to parenting a six year old!”

My stomach was in knots as I drove to the school. The phone message had shocked me and left many unanswered questions: Was Dane hurt? Was the other child hurt? Did Dane have aggression issues? What discipline would the school mete out?

When I got to the school his teacher met me at the principal’s office with a contrite—no make that frightened—looking Dane in tow. I was nervous, and feeling guilty, as if it was my behavior that was being corrected. But the teacher handed it well. She wasn’t accusatory—neither student involved was being ‘blamed’ for the fight—she just reiterated the rules about not using body parts—hands, feet, head—or objects to strike others. Dane received a ‘warning’ with the understanding that another incident would cause him loss of recess privileges. I’ve got to give the woman credit, she managed to do all this with a smile in her voice and on her face.

I was pleased with the way the teacher and the school handled the incident. Sure they made a big deal out of it, but dealt with the issue exactly as per the school rules. The preamble to those rules stated that part of the growing up process was to make mistakes, but it was important to learn from those mistakes. The school emphasis was on reinforcing good behavior, not punishing bad behavior. It was all very confusing to me. My immediate question was: What, if anything, did Derrick and I need to do about ‘mistakes?’ How could I be like that teacher and be firm but positive at the same time?

Dane and I were both quiet as we left the school, hand in hand. Then I realized that I was behaving badly. My quiet ruminations could be construed as negative and were ruining his first day of school. So I plastered a smile on my face, gave his little hand a gentle squeeze and pitching my voice in what I hoped was a ‘happy’ tone, I squatted down, looked him in the eye, and asked him if his new teacher was nice?

His little face looked like a thunderstorm. He was...worried? But he nodded, ‘yes.’

Good. He liked his teacher.

Next question: “Did you meet any new friends today?”

Shrug.

“Okay,” I chirped. “Let’s get you home and have an after school snack. How about some apple, then maybe a cookie with some milk? You can tell me about your day.”

Dane burst into sobs.

Oh Hell!

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him to my chest. “It’s okay, Dane. Everything’s fine. Daddy loves you.” I rubbed his back as sobs racked his little body. He was still too thin. My detached doctor mind pondered ways of increasing his nutritious food intake. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I murmured.

“A...are...y...you...g...going...to...s...s...spank me?”

Awe Jesus!

“No Dane. Never. Daddy Derrick and I will never spank you. We’ll never, ever intentionally hurt you. Just like there’s a no hitting rule at school, there’s a no hitting rule at our house too. What happened at school was just a mistake. Sometimes we make mistakes. That’s how we learn. Even dad’s make mistakes sometimes... Daddy Derrick and I are so very proud of you. We both love you so much...” I knew I was rambling, but I was sincere, and I prayed that I was saying the right things.

I continued to rub Dane’s back and kissed the top of his head. His crying subsided to just a few hiccups. “Time to get you home. I bet Patsy missed you today. She’ll be pretty happy to see you. Daddy Derrick will probably be there when we get home too. You can tell us all about your day while we’re having a snack. I bet Patsy would like a snack too. No cookies for her, right? We’ll give her one of her little dog treats. You can reinforce one of her commands. I bet she’d like that.”

I wiped away his tears and snot with a tissue then got him into his car seat and headed home. As we were driving my phone played its ringtone and I answered it using the car’s Bluetooth connection. It was Jordan asking if he could bring Alfy over for an hour play time. I could hear the unspoken question—how did it go at the school?—in his voice.

Dane, in that amazing way kids recover from crises, perked right up at the thought of seeing his dog and his friend.

That week, Dane settled into school in fits and starts. Academically he was catching up to his peer group quickly—there was no doubt that he was very intelligent. But he had troubles focussing, and his group social skills definitely needed improvement. The school was very understanding, and we worked with them to gently reinforce the ‘rules.’ Ironically, he and the boy with whom he’d had an altercation the first day, Tyler Kuana, became friends. Both were full of mischief, which didn’t help matters.

I wasn’t surprised when the school counsellor called me on Friday and asked for a meeting. As I suspected, the school was suggesting Dane might be ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder). Notice the school said ‘might be.’ As a physician I was glad that they weren’t jumping to conclusions. ADHD is often over diagnosed; far too many children have been prescribed Methylphenidate (Ritiln) when they shouldn’t be. We’d taken a seminar on it when I did my pediatrics rotation, so I wasn’t particularly concerned—ADHD is not the end of the world, it just needs to be managed appropriately by the child’s ‘team’—his school, home and pediatrician.

Derrick was worried (it seems the shoe was on the other foot for a change). “What should we do?” he asked.

“For now, nothing,” I said. “We just need to keep an open mind, and be patient. What the school is suggesting is that we keep an eye on things. Don’t forget Dane has undergone huge changes in the last few months. Personally, I’m not surprised he’s ‘acting out.’ Yes, I’ve noticed some symptoms of ADHD, but that’s a long way from a diagnosis. We’ll talk to his pediatrician about it, but for now the most effective thing we can do is to provide stability in his life.”

“Well, I just want him to have a good life; to be happy. I worry about his future...”

I put a positive spin on the situation. “ADHD is not necessarily a bad thing. First off, if—and that’s a big if—he has it he’s very intelligent. Have you noticed how quickly he learns? Secondly, some of these kids grow up to be very successful. These are the people who will rush into burning buildings or dive into the ocean to save people. I can think of one person in the family who might be ADHD and is pretty successful. Can you guess who I’m talking about?”

“Uh...let me think... Is it James?”

“Possibly...but that’s not who I’m thinking about. This person probably has an IQ of 140 or more and is a risk taker.”

“Not Cass?”

“No, Cass is very intelligent, but he doesn’t have a short attention span, and he’s not one to take big risks. One more guess...”

Derrick pondered this in silence for a minute. “Marco!” he exclaimed.

“Bingo!” I said. “Now don’t say anything, because that’s not a professional diagnosis by any means, but can you see what I mean?”

“Yeah, I think so. He’s really smart, but he’s kinda hyperactive too. I’m not sure riding a twenty foot wave is something I’d call fun, but Marco gets a real buzz out of it. Cass enjoyed surfing, and sometimes I worried about him being out there on the waves, but he never took the risks that Marco does. Or at least I hope he didn’t. But you think Dane is going to be okay? Really?”

“More than okay. But we’ll keep an eye on him, and it wouldn’t hurt to read up a little on dealing with an ADHD child...just in case.”

That first week of school had been busy and stressful on all of us, so we decided to have a fun weekend. After our dog training session on Saturday morning, Derrick and I took Dane and Alfy to the Honolulu zoo. That was a huge success. The boys were awestruck at seeing the animals—both large and small. Afterwards we treated the boys to a McDonald’s lunch. (Not my favorite choice, but the boys loved it.)

Once we got home we let the boys and Patsy run off a little energy on the Beach. It was the first time Patsy had been off leash on the beach and she was tearing around excitedly with the boys. Dane and Alfy took turns throwing the Frisbee for her. What was interesting to me was that Alfy already had Dane talking Hawaiian patois, and amazing dialect using Hawaiian, Asian and English words in a complex truncated grammar. Derrick and I could only understand a fraction of what Alfy was saying, but Dane seemed to understand everything, and he was responding in kind. Being fluent in the local dialect was an important part of fitting in in Hawaii and, as parents, we were very pleased by this turn of events.

Jordan and Kelly came over for a poolside barbeque in the evening. After we’d eaten, we all strolled the beach toward their new home, admiring the house from the beach, frustrated because we couldn’t go in—the current owners still had possession and were living there. We’d all had a tour of the house, of course, just after it was purchased, but Jordan and Kelly were super excited about moving in and were eager to learn every inch of the house. Luckily, it was a short closing, and they’d have occupancy in about three weeks.

On Sunday, Derrick, Dane and I went for a drive around the island. Derrick and I wanted to check out a coffee plantation at Waialua. It wasn’t really a plantation, more a demonstration area in an old sugar mill—but we did see a few coffee plants in the back. Their coffee was excellent and we bought a pound of beans. We stopped at Waimea Bay to watch the surfers for a few minutes, but the waves weren’t very high and Dane soon grew bored. We drove into some of the back roads behind Waikane on the windward side because Cass and Khala were interested in buying acreage there to develop their dog breeding business once they returned to Oahu. By this time Dane was definitely restless and just wanted to get home to Patsy.

On Monday, Maila, our new nanny, began work. That took some of the pressure off Derrick and me. From the first day, her love for children was evident in her warm, easy going interaction with Dane. He responded in kind and never gave her a moment of trouble. She immediately established an after school routine: A few minutes of ‘outside time’ with Patsy. Snack. Homework. Constructive play time, which sometimes included baking human and dog cookies.

In all this time we hadn’t heard from Mom and Dad (Douglas and MacKenzie). That wasn’t unusual when they were off on a Buddhist retreat where they were closed off from the outside world for extended periods. But it meant they didn’t yet know about Dane. We’d left them a phone message to call us, but hadn’t mentioned Dane preferring at least a longer phone conversation to break the news.

That week Derrick had gone with the plane’s crew on a quick over night charter to Macau. Things were calm at the house. It was a Wednesday afternoon. Maila was dealing with Dane and Patsy while I sequestered myself in my den to catch up on reading my medical journals. I could hear muffled sounds coming from the kitchen. Maila was using flashcards to improve Dane’s addition skills.

I was trying to concentrate on, and make some sense of, a study of a new drug for the treatment of glaucoma when there was a soft knock on my den door. It must be something important, I thought, because Maila and Dane knew that this was my undisturbed quiet time.

“Come in,” I called.

Maila entered and whispered, “There’s a woman here. She says she’s your mother. She wants to know who Dane and me are. I didn’t know what to tell her, so I came to get you.”

I shot out of my chair, nearly tipping it over in my haste. Mom was standing in the kitchen quietly observing Dane. He was sitting rigidly and looking daggers back at her, thunderclouds once again on his face. Patsy was sitting beside Dane’s chair, teeth bared, clearly in guard stance.

Mom quirked her eyebrow at me but otherwise didn’t move.

“Mom! Well...isn’t this a surprise! Uh...welcome home!” I could feel Maila behind me observing our little tableau. Mom remained still and silent. I needed to tell her what was going on. My brain was sputtering with how I might start an explanation. Where was Derrick when I needed him? I opened my mouth to speak but no words came.

I took a deep calming breath, then slowly expelled it. “Mom...I’d like you to meet your new grandson, Dane.” Then I gestured toward Maila. “And this is our new nanny, Maila.” Turning to Dane, I said, “Dane this is your new gramma.” I noticed Mom’s glance went to Patsy. “Oh, and this is Patsy.”

“Well...that’s lovely,” said Mom with a smile. She was nothing if not gracious. “Um...Douglas is at home taking a shower. He should be over shortly...” There was a moment’s pause, then Mom smiled and said to Dane, “Dane, it’s wonderful to meet you. It’s going to be wonderful having a grandson...and a dog...living with us again.”

“NO!” exclaimed Dane. Patsy growled.

What the hell?

“Dane..?” I began, but he cut me off.

“I DON’T WANT TO LIVE WITH HER! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME! I WANT DADDY DERRICK!” He burst into tears and went bounding up the stair. Patsy barked twice at Mom and followed. I heard Dane’s bedroom door slam.

I stood there, mouth open, gaping like a cod.

“Go!” gestured Mom. “Go and comfort your son. You can explain everything later.”

I took the stairs two at a time. At Dane’s closed bedroom door I called to him. “Dane? Dane, it’s Daddy. I’m going to come into your room. Okay?” I slowly opened the door. Neither Dane nor Patsy were there! “Dane?” I heard a rustling noise from under the bed.

I got down on my hands and knees and looked under the bed. Dane was cowering from me. Patsy was growling, protecting her alpha.

“Dane,” I said gently. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to stay right here, in this house, with Daddy Derrick and me...and Patsy. Gramma didn’t mean that you’re going to live at her house. You know that gramma and grampa live in the little house across the yard? Remember we told you? ...What Gramma meant was that, as a family, we all live together on this property. ...But you won’t live in their house. They’ll just be a part of your life. Gramma and Grampa are really nice...I promise you...you have nothing to fear from them...Dane, can you and Patsy come out of there? I promise, you’ll be staying right here, in this house. Alfy will live just down the beach, where we showed you... I think Jordan and Kelly are getting a dog for Alfy. Patsy will have a friend too...”

Dane sniffled, but I could see him relaxing a little. “Dane, can you come out? I’ll cuddle you for a bit...make you feel better...”

He began to inch his way out from under the bed.

Oh, thank God! I’m earning his trust.