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    Zenith
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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. 

Winning the Lottery - 30. Chapter 30 - Family Matters

The two days we spent with Derrick’s parents at Orcas Island were disconcerting. They were preoccupied and eccentric; their entire focus had become translating ancient Chinese Buddhist texts. To that end, they were acquiring—either buying or borrowing—rare and priceless manuscripts, then inviting experts—either university professors or Buddhist monks—to become ‘resident monks’ helping with the translations into English. It was intense work, often generating arguments about what the ancient Chinese symbols ‘meant’. Mom wasn’t quite as engrossed in the work as Dad. She, at least, was interested in how Dane and Cass were getting on, and what Derrick and I were getting up to. Dad, on the other hand, was off in his own world, sometimes just getting up and wandering away from a meal or a conversation. I thought it was just plain weird, but Derrick said they’d always been like that, with their heads in the clouds. The behaviour was just getting more pronounced as they aged. In spite of Derrick’s reassurances, I was determined to keep an eye on them lest Douglas be slipping into a dementia like Alzheimer’s. Derrick, of course, could read me like a book, and he knew that my lack of acquiescence to that statement meant I was concerned. He gave me a searching look and said, “We’ll keep a good eye on them. Especially Dad. Okay?”

While I was feeling meddlesome, I figured I might as well address the situation of my aunt and uncle, and their boys, in Manitoba. From what Robert had reported, something didn’t quite add up. My guess that their resistance to being helped stemmed from that Canadian pioneer spirit with its philosophy of ‘make your own way in the world’ and ‘don’t be beholden to anyone.’ I was certainly guilty of the same line of reasoning: I’d tried to break up with Derrick when I found out he was rich. I empathized with Zena and Mike, but again, through the lens of my own experience, knew that accepting someone’s aid didn’t necessarily put you in a subservient position.

To pass the time on the plane ride home, I opened up the security report I’d had prepared on them. An invasion of privacy, to be sure, but necessary to ensure I wasn’t planning on supporting a completely dysfunctional family. The portrait painted by the report showed a typical small business owner who struggled from year to year to keep out of the red. Mike drove a nice truck, but it was leased through his landscaping company. They owned a house on two acres on which there was also a large workshop for Mike. Zena drew a wage from the company for bookkeeping, but she also took in sewing and was known as an excellent seamstress. Their mortgage was nearly paid off, but there was a new application, presumably for Mike Junior’s college tuition. They had very little in the way of retirement savings. Mike paid himself a modest wage through the company, but the company’s profits were minimal, some years even producing small losses. I got the picture of a determined, hard-working, proud family. Their expenditure history showed little in the way of extravagance. Except for Zena’s recent trip to Zurick, (which had been paid for by my mother), the family hadn’t taken a vacation in years. The boys had both played hockey, which was pretty much de rigueur for any Canadian youth.

The plane touched down in Honolulu, and as soon the plane’s engines been shut down, and the stairs lowered, Robert ‘released’ Dane—think of a pit bull straining at a leash—and he came rushing into the plane for hugs. You’d have thought we’d been gone for two months instead of just two days. Derrick carried him off the plane (he refused to get down and walk, determined not to let Derrick ‘get away’ again) and I followed greeting Robert with a handshake at the bottom of the steps. Robert was smiling, but there was something just a little off in his expression—embarrassment, or guilt?—and the cause was obvious. There were abrasions on cheek and lip, which was also a bit swollen. He saw me looking and tried to deflect my attention away from his face by exclaiming an enthusiastic Welcome Home! and what a Beautiful Day! it was in Honolulu as he pointed to the sky. Obviously he didn’t want to talk about his face, so I let the subject go...for the time being. Trouble was, his diversionary tactics only made me more curious. I was determined to get to the bottom of that little mystery later. Besides, there wasn’t an opportunity at that time. Dane was demanding one hundred percent of our attention and clinging to Derrick like a limpet. He’d drawn us pictures including one quite good one of an Orca which we admired. Then he regaled us with how he’d been treated royally at Alfy’s house, with the unstated implication that he wouldn’t mind being treated like that at home! They’d practiced the Hula. Kelly and Jordan taught them more Hawaiian words, and Kelly had PROMISED! to treat Alfy and him to a ride in an outrigger WAR! canoe soon. And Patsy had been allowed to sleep ON the bed with him. The latter I was NOT pleased about but there was no use mentioning it to Kelly, he’d just laugh at me and tell me to chill. Well, there were ways to get even. Maybe next time Alfy was over I’d feed him a bunch of sugary treats and send him home on a sugar high. Deal with that, Kelly!

Robert had everything organized, so we didn’t have to worry about a thing except giving Dane the attention he needed. Once home, it took two complete stories and Derrick lying on the bed with him to calm Dane down and get him to sleep.

The next morning, Robert pulled me aside before we embarked on our day’s routines. He was obviously agitated, and had difficulty starting the conversation that he seemed so eager to have.

“Robert, is everything okay? You want to discuss something personal with me?” I prompted.

“Um...yes... Well, Dr. Gabe, it’s just that...well... Is it okay for me to have a boyfriend?”

I was delighted he’d found a ‘boyfriend,’ but felt bad that he even needed to ask that question. I understand why he did though. His contract stipulated a ‘flexible schedule’ of 40 hours per week for which he was paid an annual salary. In reality, he often worked very long days. In fact I’d told him several times to take time off and he’d ignored me. Getting him to go to Winston’s picnic had been like pulling teeth. Ah, the picnic, I thought. The blind date! The problem was that Robert didn’t have any regularly ‘scheduled’ time off—it just wasn’t an issue we’d faced—making ‘dating’ a challenge.

“The blind date guy? Keno, was it?” I asked.

“Yes,” Robert sighed, then explained how Keno had come over and spent two nights. He was very concerned how Derrick and I felt about that. I couldn’t answer for Derrick, of course, but I was delighted to hear Robert had met a potential ‘boyfriend.’ I offered my blessing on the relationship and reassured Robert that Derrick would likely feel the same way. It was a tricky conversation because Robert was more than just an employee. He was a de facto family member and as much as we tried to clarify employer/employee boundaries they often shifted unexpectedly, like now.

Robert seemed pleased with my position on the matter. He thanked me, and assured me that he and Keno would be discrete, and he would let nothing come in the way of doing ‘the best job he could’ for us.

But I had to ask... “Robert, what happened to your face?”

A very alarmed look passed over his face before he regained his composure. “I knew you’d be concerned, Dr. Gabe, and I thought I better tell you the truth.” Then, much to my surprise, he blurted out the story of a wild night of passion, thankfully leaving out most of the details, but he told me about breaking the lamp and falling off the couch onto the coffee table.

I burst out laughing. “You were that wild?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes. It was like a damn bursting and all this emotion just came pouring out,” he said very seriously.

After I stopped laughing—poor Robert was not amused; his serious expression did not falter—I redirected our conversation to our daily business, in particular a project I’d been thinking about for several months. I wanted Dane to be aware of his heritage. To that end I was drafting a proposal to present to the Tribal Council of which Dane’s home reserve was a member. My idea was to create a summer workshop where children would learn about their culture. The ideas I had in mind were arts and crafts, language, dance, spiritual pursuits, nature hikes, and so forth. Really, there were unlimited opportunities for children to learn about, and become proud of, their heritage. It was a little self-serving, I will admit, but I thought it had a wider benefit than just meeting our needs.

Robert had been assisting me with the project, and to that end he had arranged for me to attend a meeting and make my presentation. It was perfect timing because I’d also stop in Winnipeg and talk to my Aunt Zena and her family. From there I’d fly on to Flin Flon, Manitoba, for my meeting with the tribal council.

I felt guilty for going away again so soon after our last trip, but this time Derrick was staying home so Dane didn’t seem to mind in the least. I think he’d figured out that with one parent away the other would, perhaps, bend the rules a little. Pizza, ice cream, more story time, dog sleeping on bed (after Kelly’s sabotage on that score it looked like a losing battle in any case).

Zena and Mike agreed to a meeting, and their attitude was thawing a little as evidenced by there suggestion that they bring the boys to the airport to meet me. Ryan, their younger son, and aspiring pilot, would be thrilled to see the plane. So Robert arranged it that the family got VIP treatment at the civil aviation facility, and once the plane’s door opened, and Canadian Immigration had cleared our entry, they were escorted out to join me in the plane. Zena entered first, looked around wide-eyed and gave me a shy smile. I welcomed here with a hug. Mike senior entered next. He was a well built man with muscles honed from years of hard work. His face weathered from hours in the sun. The boys were right behind him so introductions were done quickly. I gave them a quick tour of the interior. Not surprisingly they were all awestruck. Zena was quiet but Mike and the boys were thoroughly enjoying themselves. I could tell Mike senior had a special rapport with his boys. Alexander, our flight attendant, pointed out the safety features of the cabin and the amenities of the galley, bedroom and lavs. Ryan was enraptured with the cockpit as Joe pointed out the main controls and computers. Unbeknownst to the boys I’d arranged a little surprise with their parents’ permission.

“Anybody up for a short flight?” I asked. The boys couldn’t believe their good luck after being reassured by their parents that it was allowed.

They got to choose their seats, then Alexander explained what the procedures were, just as if they were clients who had booked a private flight. Alexander served beverages as Joe went through pre-flight procedures.

Take off terrified and thrilled them. Once we reached cruising altitude for the hour-long flight Alexander served the hot beef tenderloin meals we’d had especially brought on board.

After that the co-pilot, Anne (a contract employee) vacated her seat and the three ‘boys’ all took turns sitting there with Joe pointing out ‘live’ features of the cockpit.

After Mike Junior had returned from his turn in the cockpit I mention I’d heard he was interested in becoming a doctor and asked him if he had any questions for me. He asked me several good questions that illustrated he’d well researched the field. I asked him if he was willing to commit the next few years living, working and breathing toward his goal. He assured me, quite emphatically, that he was, and I got the impression he meant what he said.

Once back on the ground Zena and Mike took the boys home and the crew and I dispersed to our hotel for some much needed rest. I had arranged to visit Mike and Zena the next morning when the boys were at school. I hoped our discussions would go well; the boys were obviously well cared for and well brought up. I couldn’t see Mike and Zena throwing roadblocks up against their futures.

It turned out that, not surprisingly, my father had done something to deeply offend Mike and Zena. They refused to give me the details, but I strongly suspect that he had sexually assaulted Zena (remember, she is several years younger than my mother). Mike said that he couldn’t hold me accountable for my father’s actions, and I’d more than demonstrated I was a decent sort of guy. He told me how much the boys had appreciated the plane ride and how special that was for them all; that it was a very generous action on my part. We established a sort of wary trust. I remembered my lesson from Derrick’s mom, Mackenzie, from many years ago, telling them that we were offering ‘no strings attached’ - ‘because you are family’ help. I even pulled out her analogy of giving the boys tools to build a house, but it was up to them to build the house. I think Mike, particularly, liked that because he was a self-made man.

They wanted what was best for their boys and it only took a little push to convince them our (for I always made sure that they realized Derrick and I were partners in crime, so to speak) offer of help was unconditional, and that it would truly be an honor for us to assist.

I was blunt about Mike Junior’s medical school prospects and why the Caribbean was a good opportunity for him. Flying school for Ryan wasn’t a problem. There were many available options for that; it really depended on what Ryan preferred.

With those issues more or less settled we moved on to more general topics. They asked about life in Hawaii, and Mike joked that it was every Canadian’s dream to go someplace warm in the winter, which was a perfect segue into my next agenda item.

“Maybe that dream could become a reality for you and Zena,” I said. “I know you both work tirelessly, as entrepreneurs, to provide for your family. Ever think of slowing down? Maybe retiring, now that the boys are leaving the nest, so to speak?”

Mike’s face clouded with anger. It was a touchy subject, as I knew it would be given they had almost no resources for retirement. “That’s none of your concern,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Sorry, Mike,” I quickly said. “I know that was tactless of me, but I wanted to cut to the chase. Here it is: Derrick and I want to offer you financial security from here on out. You and Zena have lived an exemplary life. You’ve built a successful business and raised two very fine young men. You’ve ‘built your house’ so to speak. You don’t have to prove anything to anybody. Derrick and I will fund the life of your dreams. No strings attached. Have you ever dreamed of winning the lottery? This is it, Mike and Zena, you’ve just won the equivalent of the Lotto Max jackpot.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Zena.

“Serious as a heart attack,” I said giving them each a direct look.

Mike and Zena looked at each other. Zena burst into tears. Mike moved to wrap an arm protectively around her shoulders. He glared at me—a glare that said, If you’re fucking with us I’ll kill you.

I pulled my phone out and sent a quick text.

“Mike, why don’t you check your personal banking app?” I said.

He opened his phone and logged into the app. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Holy shit! Zena, Gabe just deposited a million bucks into our checking account!” To me he said, “You can do that? Just like that? You have that much money? Just to give away like that?”

“Yes to all your questions...and that was just a good faith deposit so you’ll take me seriously, because now we have to discuss this topic seriously,” I said. “There’s several more million to come. What we need to do now is have our lawyers talk to your lawyers and get a family trust set up. It’s a little complicated, but it’s always best to cross the t’s and dot the i’s. Down the road this will effect the boys; they need to be protected, too. There are tax implications to consider, as well as your wills, and so forth...”

It took me a while to calm Mike down after that. Hi kept jumping up and pacing in circles and running his hands through his hair. I had to reassure him several times that this was all ‘real.’ After some direct questioning and gentle—somewhat leading—questions I got him and Zena to see the wisdom in taking some time to ‘think things over.’

I didn’t want to get into details right then. The only thing I stressed was that the Mike junior and Ryan be encouraged to pursue vocations in spite of their parents’ newfound independence. I explained how everyone in our circle had some sort of profession or calling, and how important that was. I gave numerous examples within our circle of acquaintances. Mike and Zena agreed, as I knew they would. They’d instilled a good work ethic in their boys.

I left them alone for a couple of hours while I went back to the motel and worked on my presentation to the Tribal Council. It was done, but I wanted to think about go over it one more time.

Back at Mike and Zena’s, after they’d had time to discuss the situation, they informed me that Mike would probably sell the business. They’d keep the house they had, but they’d buy a recreational vehicle and explore ‘all over’ Canada and the USA. I thought that was a marvelous idea.

The next day we flew up to Flin Flon for my presentation to the Tribal Council. I was very proud of my ideas and feeling cocky about my success with Mike and Zena, but I learned quickly that “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” (Generally quoted as ‘Pride goeth before a fall.’)

My presentation was NOT well received! I’d walked into a trap of my own making.

“Why do you think you know how to teach culture to our children?” asked one member. “Cultural appropriation!” said another. They even implied that we had ‘stolen’ Dane away from his culture. It was dreadful. With the best of intentions I’d been blind to current political issues making myself a lightning rod for their anger. I thanked them for their time and left. These were grievances that were beyond my pay grade. Feeling thoroughly chastened, I had no choice but to put the incident behind me and move on. Derrick and I would think of something else we could do to preserve Dane’s heritage for him.

Well, that certainly thwarted our summer plans. Now what would we do to keep our active little boy busy (and out of mischief)?

The next chapter will narrate Don and Marco's adventures.
Thanks for the comments and likes....they really help motivate me to keep going.
Copyright © 2017 Zenith; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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Interesting that Derrick's parents are getting more weird or should I say weirder. I suppose that the best intentions are not always the best. Sometimes they turn around and bite you on the backside

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I wonder how his presentation went so wrong.   Aboriginals are a very proud bunch and I am sure didn’t hear exactly how Gabe meant it.   I am glad that he could help his aunt and uncle.  Thanks for the chapter. 

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Would the Council be more amenable to Gabe & Derrick funding a program developed, managed, and set up by the Tribal Council itself?  ;–)

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9 minutes ago, glennish said:

I wonder how his presentation went so wrong.   Aboriginals are a very proud bunch and I am sure didn’t hear exactly how Gabe meant it.

Please don’t be offended, @glennish, that I don’t completely agree with that.

 

Well-meaning outsiders frequently unintentionally offend. Key words might have different implications due to historic usage that might not be known to someone who didn’t grow up as part of the group. ‘Mansplaining’ and pink cars are examples of men fumbling when dealing with women. Wealthy people appear to think that poor people are lazy, greedy, and somehow intentionally caused their own plight. There are numerous examples of straight people unintentionally offending LGBTQ people.

 

Intentions are important, but cross-cultural interactions can be fraught with pitfalls. I think Gabe & Derrick were wrong to try to design a program themselves. Negotiating first would have been a better strategy!

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The ignorance around "cultural appropriation" is truly astounding. Not the place to debate it here, but all credit for what the boys were trying to do.

 

Great read. Thanks

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Don't really feel that this was any type of cultural appropriation; although since all we had was an outline, so it would be hard to tell without hearing the presentation.  I am sure it was not meant as such.  I can see both sides of the issue, but I have found more than once, that those that want to run the show will often throw a charge of cultural appropriation at an individual or group in an attempt to control how something is done or set up.  Often it is simply a way to control the money that is involved, while the charge can sometimes be leveled correctly, like so much in our "new" politically correct society, there are other issues behind the charge itself.

 

Loved the part with them helping the family and how they approached it. 

 

Can't wait to see what happens next.

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