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    Bill W
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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. 

The Castaway Hotel - 2 - 28. Chapter 28 - Sally Keeps A Promise To A Friend

On Friday, February 1st, I got an early phone call from Sally. I had just walked into my office when the telephone rang. “Hello.”

“Hello, Josh. It’s Sally. I’ve been reading your emails about Sammy and Andrew and I can’t wait to meet them,” she informed me. “What would you say to a visit after school?”

“I’d say that sounds great,” I agreed. “It’s been too long since we’ve been able to spend much time together. What if you stop by the house after you get off work and maybe the boys can persuade you to also join us for dinner.”

“That sounds very nice,” she replied, “but I was hoping I might be able to bring along a guest for all of you to meet. However, I wouldn’t wish to impose on you like that.”

“Nonsense,” I countered. “By chance, might this be anyone I know?”

“No, but it’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she admitted, which suddenly caused other questions to pop into my mind.

“On a social or professional level?” I asked, hoping to narrow down the possibility.

“Maybe a combination of both,” she responded, while sounding a little nervous, possibly even a touch guilty.

“Why do I have the feeling there’s more to this visit than just a social call?” I teased, while acknowledging I was most likely being set up for another ‘Sally Sting Operation.’

Sally hesitated, before she answered my last question. “Probably because there is,” she admitted, reluctantly. “I have another young man I’d like you to meet, but I want to introduce him to you in person, rather than discuss his situation over the phone with you.”

“Why are you handling this one differently, Sally?” I questioned. “We’ve always discussed the boys over the phone first.”

“I realize that,” she agreed, “but I thought we could do it in person this time, especially since I wanted to meet Sammy and Andrew too.”

“That would be fine, but I’m still curious about your reasons,” I announced. “This isn’t Damien Thorn, is it?” I teased, but Sally missed the joke.

“No, his name isn’t Damien,” she admitted, thinking I might be referring to a young man from my school. “In fact, I don’t think we have a boy by that name in the system.”

“Sally, I was referring to Damien from the movie ‘The Omen,’ I explained. “You know, the son of the devil, destined to become the Antichrist.”

“Oh, Josh, quit teasing me,” she chortled into the phone. “It’s nothing like that and I’ll explain everything after I arrive. I sorry, but I have to get going now. I have a meeting in just a couple of minutes and it’s down the hall. We’ll talk more when I see you later.”

“You win,” I conceded. “I’ll see you at the house later.”

I hung up, but was still very curious about this. Was there something wrong with this boy that she thought I might overlook once I’d met him. Could he possibly be physically or mentally handicapped? Maybe he has a disease, possibly terminal? I was going to be thinking about this for the rest of the day, wondering why Sally wouldn’t tell me more about this boy in advance.

Due to all these unanswered questions, the day seemed to drag on forever, but even this school day had to eventually come to an end. I quickly picked up all of the boys and headed home, after informing them their Aunt Sally was coming for a visit. The other boys had to explain to Sammy and Andrew about our special relationship to Sally, after which Andrew concluded she was our Mrs. Getz. I guess that was a very appropriate description of her, except we were much closer than that. I started dinner and was getting everything together when the doorbell rang. Kevin answered it.

I went over to greet our guests and welcome them to our home. Sally came in and a young boy followed close behind her. Now I understood Sally’s reasoning, although I was dismayed by her attitude and understanding of what we were about. The boy was black. Not a dark black. He had more of a deep, toffee colored skin. His black hair was cut very short and he stood about 5’ 2” tall. He was looking down at his feet, so I couldn’t really get a good look at his face.

“Josh, this is Dion Jackson. Dion, this is Mr. Currie and his boys,” she introduced us. We shook hands and I led them into the living room to sit and talk.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dion. Are you from around here?” I asked, in order to start the conversation.

“Kind of,” was the only answer I received in reply.

“Boys, why don’t you show Dion around a bit?” I suggested. “You can start outside and then show him the house, once he’s seen everything out there.”

The boys enthusiastically agreed and took off, giving Sally and I time to talk in private. “Sally, I’m surprised at you,” I announced, once we were alone. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Josh, what are you talking about?” she replied, feigning innocence.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me about him, just because he’s Afro-American,” I protested, getting right to the point.

“That’s not why I didn’t tell you about him,” she countered. “I wanted to talk to you in person about him, because his grandmother was a close personal friend of mine. This young man is very special to me and is now my responsibility.”

“Sally, I’m so sorry to have misjudged your intentions,” I apologized, feeling silly that I had jumped to that conclusion. “Is it a half-dozen or a dozen?”

“Josh, what do you mean?” she asked, looking completely befuddled.

“The egg on my face,” I explained. “Is it a from a half-dozen or a full dozen eggs?”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she chuckled, once she understood my little jest. “I can see how you might have seen it that way, though. I guess I could have given you more information about him when we spoke earlier, but I really wanted to let you know how important it was to me that Dion got the best home possible.” She paused here, studying my reaction and collecting her thoughts.

“His grandmother worked in the same office I did, when I first went to work for the county,” she continued. “Mabel took me under her wing there and we became very close, both inside and outside of the workplace.” Sally looked at me with this very pained expression on her face, like her emotional dam was about to burst.

“She was my mentor and helped me work my way up into my present position,” she informed me. “We even kept in contact after she retired.” Sally reached up and brushed a tear from her eye.

“Mabel must have been in her mid to late fifties when her fifteen year old son, Cal, got his fourteen year old girlfriend pregnant,” she explained. “Cal was her second child and had been a late-life pregnancy. Mabel’s first child had died at seventeen, from Cystic Fibrosis, so Mabel wasn’t sure she wanted to have any more children, seeing both she and her husband must carry the recessive Cystic Fibrosis gene. However, even good planning goes awry and Cal was born about four or five years after her other child had passed away.” Sally looked at me, and I think she thought I was questioning how someone who works in her profession could make such a mistake, so she tried to explain.

“Josh, his birth was indeed accidental,” she assured me, “but by the time Mabel realized she was pregnant, and not just suffering some digestive malady, she was already well into her second trimester and abortion was no longer an option. Therefore, she welcomed his arrival joyously, especially after discovering he was healthy. She now had a second chance to be a mother, after her previous prolonged tragedy.

“Anyway, to make a long story short, Calvin resented the fact that his parents were so old and became quite rebellious and got into all sorts of trouble. When he got his girlfriend pregnant, he hid the fact, until she was about to give birth. Neither the girlfriend, nor her family, wanted the child, so after she had her baby, Mabel talked her into signing guardianship over to her. She did it so the child wouldn’t grow up in an institution or be passed around from home to home, as we’d seen happen with so many other minority children. She was planning to raise the child until the parents accepted their moral obligation to assume parental responsibility for him, but as it turned out, that day never came.

“Within a year or so, the mother disappeared completely. Rumor has it that she met another guy and ran off to marry him. Cal graduated from high school and then took a job as a fireman in Harrisburg. He would come home and spend his weekends with his mother and began to help raise his son. That was, until he was killed in a warehouse fire. He was on the roof when it collapsed and the rescuers couldn’t get to him in time. Dion was three or four when that happened, so he really doesn’t remember his father. The only person he could remember ever being in his life was his grandmother. She died last week and had named me temporary guardian for him.” Sally stopped and reached in her purse for a handkerchief, to wipe her eyes.

“Josh, I’m all alone, live in a small apartment and spend about seventy hours a week at my job. I would not be the right person to raise that poor child. I had only agreed to it because Mabel was such a good friend and I never expected anything to happen to her before he was old enough to be on his own. He’s twelve and a really good kid, but kind of a loner. I mean, there was only his grandmother and him and they lived out in the country with very few neighbors, so he’s never socialized much. I realize you don’t know him, because they lived in the next county over, but I was hoping you might be willing to take him in, as a special favor to me. This place would be so much better for him than my place or any other home I might be able to locate for him.”

“Sally, enough said,” I announced. “I’d be happy to take him in with us, if he’s willing to live here. What would you say about letting me talk to him alone, when he comes back with the boys?”

“That would be wonderful, Josh,” she blubbered. “Oh, thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“I think I have a rough idea and I’d be glad to help, if I’m able,” I assured her.

We continued to talk until the boys returned. As they came in, we listened briefly to all their excited utterances, before I stood up and asked Dion to follow me. I took him into the family room and shut the door behind us. When I next focused on him, he was looking very nervous, like he thought he had done something wrong, so I thought it was best to get right to the point.

“Dion, Mrs. Swarthout has told me a little bit about your situation,” I began. “She thought that you might prefer to live here, with my sons and me, instead of having to be stuck with just her. We’re willing to have you join us, if you’d like that?”

“How can those boys all be your sons?” he asked, without answering my question. “They’re all so different and hardly any of them look alike.”

“Well, they’re adopted or I’m in the process of adopting them,” I explained. “They came to live with me at various times and some of them came from bad situations. They either had no place to live or no one who wanted to take them in, so they ended up here instead. Would you like to do the same?”

“Would that mean that you’d adopt me too and I’d be your son?” he countered, and I couldn’t tell if it was because he wanted it to happen or afraid it would.

“Only if you want to be,” I assured. “If that’s what you want, then I’d be happy to have you for my son.”

“Even though I’m… well, I’m… black,” he stammered.

“That doesn’t matter to me,” I confirmed. “I may not be able to help you understand all there is to know about the black culture or what it’s like to be black, but I will help you find information in the library, the Internet or I’ll help you meet other black people who can help you, if you want to learn more about your heritage. All I can offer you here is a good home, lots of love and a bunch of crazy brothers, who will probably drive you nuts. If you decide you’d like to live here, you’ll just need to tell me if there is anything you’re missing from your old life, things that you’d like for us to try and make up for. I don’t care if it’s certain foods you like to eat, activities you like to do or maybe even holidays we don’t observe. That reminds me, did you celebrate Kwanza or Christmas?”

“I celebrated Christmas with my grandma,” he replied.

“Well, that’s just what we do, but it wouldn’t have made a difference either way,” I stated. “What do you say? Would you like to give it a try here?”

“I think it would be fun to have other kids around,” he admitted, after taking all of two seconds to think about it. “There was only my grandma at home and it got pretty boring sometimes. There were no kids close by for me to play with, either. I guess it would be kind of neat to be able to have other boys around my age to do things with.”

“So, you’ll give us a try?” I pressed.

“Yeah, I guess I will. I like Aunt Sally and all,” he informed me, “and she and my grandma were good friends. She used to visit us a lot, but I really didn’t want to live with just her. She tries hard to do things for me, but I don’t want to live alone with another woman. They don’t always understand about guy stuff.”

“Yes, I know what you mean,” I commiserated. “I don’t think that will be a problem here. Let’s go out and tell your Aunt Sally and the boys the good news.” He flashed me a shy grin, just before we walked back into the living room.

“Sally, Dion has agreed to give us a try,” I informed her. She immediately let out a small sigh, but quickly recovered, before Dion realized what it was about.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Dion, you’ll really like these guys,” she told him, with as much zest and sincerity as she could muster. “They’re the greatest family I know. Why don’t I run back to my apartment and get your things, so you can try it out for the weekend? What do you say?”

“Yeah, I could use some of my things here,” he agreed, before turning and looking at me. “Do you want me to sleep on the sofa in the other room?”

“Heck, no.” I told him. “There’s a bedroom upstairs with your name on it. It’s been empty and waiting for you to arrive.”

An amazed expression came over his face. “You have an empty bedroom with all of these boys?” he asked, not fully believing my statement. “How big is this place?” I forgot the boys had only taken him on a walk around outside and he’d only seen a portion of the downstairs of the house so far.

“Come with me and I’ll show you,” I suggested. He followed me upstairs and I showed him the other bedroom that had been created from the old master bedroom. He walked in and stood there speechless.

“You mean this would be MY bedroom?” he asked, not believing his eyes.

“Yes, sir. This will be your bedroom, if you plan to stay here,” I confirmed.

“This is neat. I’ve never had my own room before!” he exclaimed. “My grandmother had a very small, house in the country and it only had one bedroom. I always slept on the sofa in the living room, cuz there wasn’t anyplace else for me. But this place is huge!”

“You’re right there. This is a very large house,” I admitted, “even though it doesn’t appear that big from the outside. Why don’t I show you around and point out the other boys’ rooms to you too, so you can see the rest of the place. Some of the boys share a bedroom, but it was their own choice to do so,” I added, just in case he wondered about such things.

We walked to the room next door and I told him that room belonged to Sammy and Andrew. After I pointed out the old master bath, we went across the hall to Trey’s room and then the jungle room. “This room is shared by Ricky, Cole and Graham,” I explained, as he looked around.

“That’s the biggest bed I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed, while looking at their king-size bed. “No wonder they don’t mind sharing a room.” The expression on his face was priceless. The boy was truly amazed by some of the things he was seeing.

After we left there, I showed him the rest of the bedrooms, and the small office, with the computer in it that the boys shared.

“Will I be able to use that too?” he wondered.

“Of course you will,” I agreed, and immediately his face lit up.

“I’ve never had a computer to use before,” he informed me. “I used one at school, a couple of times, but there is never much time to get on it.”

“You’ll have more time here and the boys or I will teach you what you need to know,” I assured him.

Before we went back downstairs, I also pointed out the other upstairs bathroom to him. He looked around it for a few seconds, amazed that we had two bathrooms upstairs, before I explained that there were also two more downstairs. As we finally approached the top of the stairs, he looked around again, before he announced, “This place is like a motel. You have so many bedrooms and nearly as many bathrooms.”

“We need them with all of these boys. Otherwise, we’d probably have a lot of accidents when the bathroom was in use by someone else. Besides, I’d never be able to get them all ready for school in the morning without them.” Dion merely nodded his head in agreement.

After that, I took him downstairs and showed him my bedroom. He couldn’t believe that I also had a monstrous king-size bed. “Who sleeps with you?” he asked.

“Generally, I sleep alone,” I admitted, although the loneliness of that point did get to me for a second, “but on occasion, one of the boys might come in with me, if they’re having some sort of problem.”

“What sort of a problem?” he pressed.

“Maybe they aren’t feeling well or had an argument with one of the others,” I explained, “or maybe just because they need good old dad to make them feel loved.”

“Wow, that’s really nice!” Dion exclaimed, while looking at me like I had a big red ‘S’ on my chest.

In an attempt to keep him from making too much out of this, I showed him the bathroom that opened off of my bedroom. I also pointed out the second computer, which sat on my desk, and explained the boys were also allowed to use it when I was not on it. As we left my bedroom, I led him to the other downstairs bathroom, just so he’d know where everything was.

He then followed me into the kitchen, as I went back in to check on dinner. Danny had been keeping an eye on it for me. I had a small ham in the oven, which I had coated with brown sugar and pineapple, and I also planned on having yams, peas and a salad to go with it. It was just about ready, when Sally pulled back into the driveway. I sent Dustin and Trey out to see if she could use a hand and Dion went with them.

They came back in lugging Dion’s belongings and I told them to take them directly to his room. Dion dragged Sally up the stairs to show her his bedroom, because he was so exited about it and proud that he was going to have a room of his own. He was just bubbling over with joy, as he was telling her about it on the way up. Eventually they came down and I told them all to take a seat at the dining room table, because dinner was now ready. I pointed out Sally’s seat, which was located next to mine, and Dion’s, which was on the other side of me, after informing them we had plenty for all. Once we sat down to eat, they were both immediately involved in the family conversation.

I watched the boys as they asked Dion questions about himself, like what he liked to do, did he play any sports and what grade he was in at school. When he informed them about the grade he was in, Andrew was the one who told him that I was the principal of the building where he would be going to school. Dion looked up at me after this pronouncement, his eyes bulging and his jaw hanging slack. “You’re really the principal?”

“Yes, sir. Guilty as charged,” I agreed.

“I guess I’ve never thought that teachers and principals did things away from school,” he admitted. “I never saw any of them, except at school, so I guess I never thought about them having homes and families, like everyone else.”

“You’re not the only one,” I assured him. “Every time I’m in the grocery store and run into one of the students from my school, they always look at me funny, like they’re wondering why I’m there. I take it they don’t think I have to eat or anything. Most of them know I have a family, because they know some of my sons, but it still seems to amaze many of them when they see me out and away from school.”

Sally was asking Dion about what he thought of the place and I used that time to look around the table. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, except for Pat. He had a nasty looking scowl plastered across his face. I’m not sure what was up, but I made a mental note to check it out later. Maybe he was beginning to feel slighted, as I seemed to be adding more bodies to our burgeoning brood.

I heard Dion tell Sally that he thought this was a neat place and he liked the idea of having the other boys around to talk to and do things with. He seemed very excited about the whole idea of living here, which was a good sign. I think it also relieved Sally of some of the guilt she might have still been feeling about pawning him off on a family he didn’t know beforehand.

When we finished dinner, Sally excused herself, explaining she had things to do, and got ready to head home. She told Dion she would come back Sunday to see how he was doing and he gave her a hug, before thanking her for bringing him to our place. She hugged him back and kissed him on the cheek, before reminding him to behave. He told her he would, but made a face that implied, ‘why do grown-ups always have to say such dumb things?’

After Sally said her good-byes to the rest of the boys, and then to me (at which time she thanked me once again), we followed her out to her vehicle. We stood and waved at her as she backed out of the driveway and drove away, and then I placed an arm over Dion’s shoulder and walked him back inside.

Copyright © 2010 Bill W; 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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