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The Castaway Hotel: Next Generation - 13. The Road to Recovery
On Saturday, I made sure everyone got ready on time, so we could attend the service together. Since I wasn’t certain how many others would be in attendance, I wanted as many of our family to be there, as possible. Quite a few members of our extended family had also heard about our newest boarder and what had happened to his father, and they indicated they would be attending as well. I was pleased to hear this, because I didn’t want to take the chance that Elliot might later remember that hardly anyone had attended his father’s funeral.
Danny and Brandon even managed to come up with a suit for Elliot to wear. I think it had belonged to one of the other boys when they were younger, but he looked good in it. It not only fit him quite well, but it was also an appropriate color for the circumstances. Joshie noticed that Elliot was all dressed up, but not looking particularly happy, so he asked if he could ride with him when it came time to leave. Danny and Brandon said that would be fine, so Joshie left with them, while Jake and I took the others with us.
Once we arrived at the funeral home, Brandon told me that Joshie made it a point to be in physical contact with Elliot during the entire trip. Joshie was even standing next to Elliot and holding his hand as we made our way inside. It was really touching to see this five-year old taking care of the older boy and being so concerned about his welfare.
I quickly glanced around, to see if everything was as I had requested, and was pleased to note there were several other floral bouquets on display, along with the ones I had ordered. I went over to see who they were from and learned that the first one was from our extended family. They had all chipped in and ordered it, because they also wanted to make sure an appropriate number of selections were present. The second arrangement was from Mr. Kennedy’s office and another was a separate arrangement from his boss. The remaining floral offerings were from Mr. Kennedy’s neighbors and other friends, who had seen his obituary in the local paper. I guess the HR manager had submitted the information, so others who knew Mr. Kennedy would be aware of his passing. From what I’ve seen and heard so far, it is obvious that Mr. Kennedy had been well liked and highly respected.
Shortly after we went inside, Danny and Brandon took Elliot up to see his father. Although I was wondering if any of this was getting through to him, I received at least a partial answer when he turned around. Elliot had an extremely sad expression on his face after viewing the body and tears were gently streaming down his cheeks. He might not be fully aware of what is going on, but he clearly understood that his father is no longer here for him. Elliot then stayed very close to his foster-fathers and stood between them in the receiving line, as the others came into the room.
The calling hour seemed to go by quickly and we were all surprised by how many of Mr. Kennedy’s co-workers, neighbors and friends had shown up. Each one came over to speak with Elliot and either hugged him or patted him on the back, although the women often kissed him on the forehead or cheek. On occasion, I could see a distant glimmer of recognition in Elliot’s eyes when someone came up to him, but he never uttered a word. He appeared to be the stoic little soldier, with a stiff upper lip, so only our family was fully aware of the toll his father’s death was taking on him.
Once we left the funeral home, we drove to the church in a standard funeral procession. Three gentlemen Mr. Kennedy had worked with volunteered to serve as pallbearers and Dustin, Cole and Kevin stepped in to fill the other places. Once the casket had been positioned at the front of the church, the trio came back to sit with the rest of us, while Mr. Kennedy’s friends returned to sit with their families and other co-workers.
Dion had volunteered to serve as a soloist and sang a couple of hymns, one as we entered and another as we were leaving, which added a nice touch to the service. The minister gave a very brief, yet appropriate and touching eulogy. He included many of the little tidbits I’d passed along to him from Mr. Kennedy’s co-workers and also mentioned what a devoted and loving father Mr. Kennedy had been.
Seeing there would be no graveside service, Danny and Brandon led Elliot up to the casket once the eulogy had been concluded. At that time, they each placed a single rose on the coffin lid. Although many of the rest of us were grieving for Mr. Kennedy, it was fairly obvious that everyone in attendance was more deeply affected by what his son appeared to be going through. Eliot, on the other hand, showed only a minimal response to what was taking place. The lone sign that he might possibly be aware of what was going on were the telltale traces of the tears that had cascaded down his cheeks. While our hearts ached for him, none of us could really fathom how deeply he was being affected by this loss.
Since it was unnecessary for us to go to the cemetery next, the pallbearers loaded the coffin back into the hearse. The funeral home director was going to take care of transporting the casket to its final resting place, where Mr. Kennedy’s remains would be interred next to his wife. This relieved us of any further duty, seeing we wouldn’t be require to be there when this took place.
Throughout the remainder of the day, and over the next few days, Danny and Brandon spent as much time with Elliot as they possibly could. They helped him when he needed assistance and continually talked to him, to let Elliot know they understood his grief. They also assured him that they would take care of him as long as he needed and did their best to provide him with the reassurance we felt he needed.
Jesse and Joshie were there for Elliot as well, along with the rest of my sons, but I think the younger boys were making the greatest impression. They continued to talk to Elliot and let him know they cared, but Jesse also reminded Elliot that he had endured a similar situation and could empathize with what he was going through. Jesse even told Elliot he’d start to feel better as soon as he was able to release his grief and begin to take his place as our newest family member. None of us, however, were sure how much of this was getting through.
Jesse was also happy to lend Elliot some of his clothes, and when we put these together with the other things I’d scrounged up and the clothing Elliot had with him, there was enough to suffice for the time being. Something, however, would need to be done before Elliot started school, because most of the things he had to wear for the time being wouldn’t be appropriate in a school setting.
Danny and Brandon have been taking turns seeing to Elliot’s needs and staying with him overnight. It had now been nearly two weeks since Danny brought Elliot home with him, but unfortunately Elliot still continued to endure the vivid nightmares that caused him to wake up suddenly – screaming, shaking and sweating. The screams didn’t last as long as they had on those first few nights, and now whenever it happened, Elliot seemed to calm down more quickly after each session. This was especially true after one of us wrapped him in our arms and sang the lullaby. I had taught the song to Danny and Brandon during the interim and loaned them the CD to practice with. This way, they could soothe Elliot using the method that elicited the best response and eliminate their need to have me do it for them.
Once Elliot heard the song, his body would almost immediately stop trembling and he would slowly settle down and fall back to sleep. We still aren’t exactly certain what he is going through or how much he had actually witnessed when his father was murdered, but it must have been an extremely painful and horrific experience for him. Why else would the memory of what happened still be plaguing him?
After each of Elliot’s screaming sessions, neither Danny nor Brandon would allow himself to fall into a deep and restful sleep, so they weren’t getting a great deal of rest. I would fill in and take over each morning, once they started getting ready for work, and would stay in the guest room and watch over Elliot until he woke. Just as soon as he was fully alert, Elliot would follow me around the house for the rest of the day, like a little puppy. I would keep my eye on him, so I could see what he was doing, and gradually noticed that he was starting to do more on his own.
Even though Elliot still hasn’t been able to tell us what happened that night or how much he had actually seen, it hasn’t stopped the police from phoning the house nearly every day to ask when they’re going to be able to question him. We’ve told them Elliot still isn’t communicative, while at the same time remaining adamant that we will not allow him to be questioned until he is emotionally and psychologically ready. Unfortunately, this has proven to be a thorn in their side and extremely frustrating for the detectives working on the case.
Recently, some of their comments have made us concerned that they might be reaching the point where they are considering bringing charges against us for hindering their investigation. I’m not sure if they’d have any legal ground to stand on, since we are only doing what we feel is best for Elliot. We are not connected to this case in any other way, except for being Elliot’s legal guardians and concerned with his physical and emotional well-being. It’s not as if the investigation has stalled completely due to our refusal to let the detectives speak with Elliot. In fact, the police have been able to piece together quite a few of the details from that night, even without Elliot’s statement. However, knowing exactly what happened at the motel is still a mystery.
What the police do know so far is that there was some sort of altercation between Elliot’s father and three men at a restaurant. After listening to various witness accounts about that evening and reading a sheriff’s department report, they have learned that three drunks had been harassing a waitress and making some pretty derogatory comments to her, which offended many of the other patrons. After a while, Elliot’s father confronted these men and asked them to knock it off. He was also overheard telling them that he didn’t want his son to hear or witness such behavior.
After Elliot’s father stated his request, one of the drunks threw a punch at him and a fight ensued. The restaurant owner then called the sheriff’s department to report the disturbance, but all the deputies did, after breaking up the fight, was to take the three drunks outside and tell them to go home and sleep it off. Now, the police believe the troublemakers didn’t do as they’d been told and waited around instead, so they could follow Elliot and his father to their motel. The detectives investigating the murder feel these actions were a gross dereliction of duty and the sheriff’s deputies should have made certain that the three men had actually left the area. They feel things would have turned out much differently if they had.
Even though Elliot was still maintaining his silence, he was beginning to show signs that he was coming out of his depression and mental fog. He was continuing to do more for himself, like eating on his own, getting dressed without assistance and taking care of his personal needs, such as going to the toilet and bathing without being prompted to do so. He also seemed to be listening to what the others were saying to him, especially Jesse and Joshie, even though he still wasn’t responding to them verbally. Although the current situation isn’t perfect and there haven’t been any huge gains, when you add up all the small strides he has taken, Elliot definitely seems to be heading in the right direction.
There was one particular incident of note during this period, although I can’t be positive if it actually had anything to do with Elliot slowly starting to come around. One night, after Elliot had woken up screaming again and we’d put him back to bed, I noticed Joshie had come downstairs to see what was going on. I was going to send him back to bed, but he seemed to be on a mission, so I merely watched to see what he was up to. Quietly, he crept toward the guest room, carrying his teddy bear with him. I followed behind, to see what he was up to and witnessed a truly selfless act being made by a small child.
Without a word, Joshie walked over to the bed and placed his teddy bear next to Elliot. I quickly scooted back out of his line of sight, so he wouldn’t know he’d been observed. I thought it was best to let this little covert operation be his little secret and watched him scamper back up the stairs.
When Danny went in to the bedroom a short time later, he discovered Elliot snuggling with the bear and resting very peacefully. It might have been purely a coincidence, but Elliot didn’t wake up again that evening and his nightmares only plagued him for a few more nights. Even though I have no way to prove it, I’d be willing to bet that Joshie’s selfless act played a significant role in Elliot’s recovery. Sometimes it is the littlest things that make the biggest impact.
A few days later, I was filling in for Danny and watching Elliot, after he’d left for work. I dozed off for a little while, since Elliot was resting so peacefully, and when I woke up a little while later, I sat up and dangled my legs off the side of the bed. I was trying to work up the willpower to go make some coffee, since I no longer had to stay with Elliot until he awoke. When I finally found the strength to do so, I was on my way to the kitchen when I ran into Joshie. He was dressed for school, but his fathers weren’t ready to leave yet.
“Can I go see Elliot?” he asked. His eyes and expression were pleading with me to say yes.
“Okay, but don’t wake him up,” I agreed.
That was all it took to catapult Joshie in the direction of the guest room. A few seconds later, he came racing into the kitchen, brimming with excitement.
“He said good morning!” Joshie exclaimed.
I was somewhat confused by Joshie’s utterance, as I was still trying to shake off the cobwebs of sleep.
“Who did?” I asked, since I didn’t comprehend the importance of his revelation.
“Elliot did,” Joshie gasped. “I was standing by his bed and he said that to me.”
Surprised, I went rushing toward the guest room, with Joshie at my heels. As I walked in, Elliot was sitting up and had a pensive expression on his face. I didn’t speak and merely observed him instead. After a few seconds, Elliot turned slightly in my direction and started speaking.
“My dad woke me up that night,” he said, which left me totally flabbergasted. “I was sleeping and he was shaking my shoulder.”
I’m sure my mouth must have hung open and I wondered if he might be talking in his sleep. When I realized he wasn’t, I started to respond, but Joshie beat me to the punch.
“See, I told you he was talking,” Joshie announced, matter-of-factly, while poking me in the leg. I signaled him to be quiet and then turned to speak to Elliot.
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” I said, lamely.
Since Joshie had distracted me and I didn’t want to take too long before responding, I didn’t have much time to think about how I should reply to his statement. Feeling rushed, it was the best I could come up with.
“Yes.” Elliot continued. “Someone was trying to break in to our room and I guess my dad must have looked through the curtain and seen who was there. Then he woke me up, took me into the bathroom, opened the window and told me to climb out and run. I was only in my underwear and it was raining, but he ordered me to do it anyway. He told me to run and find a place to hide, and I was not to come back, no matter what I heard. He pushed me through the window, but not before I promised to stay hidden until he came to get me.”
“He must have known what might happen then,” I responded.
Elliot merely ignored my comment and continued speaking. He said he’d held it in long enough and needed to get this out of his system.
“When I was climbing out the window, someone started banging into the door. They must have been trying to break it down and the whole place felt like it was shaking,” Elliot told me next. “My dad said to run and not look back, so I did what he said and ran into the woods. I heard some loud yelling at first, but I couldn’t tell what anyone was saying. It was raining so hard and it was so loud that it sort of drowned everything else out. I was scared and just kept running. I was starting to feel pretty stupid, since I wasn’t wearing much and what I did have on was already soaking wet and it was so cold out. That’s when I heard those two horrible bangs.
“I wanted to believe that sound might have been thunder,” Elliot explained, as his lower lip began to tremble, “but I guess I knew it wasn’t and panicked. I started running faster, trying to get away from that sound, but it was dark and I couldn’t really see where I was going, so I ended up tripping over that stupid log. That’s how I broke my wrist,” he added, while staring at his cast.
Fortunately, at that instant Dion came into the room and told Joshie to come with him, so he could take him to school. Now, Elliot and I were finally alone.
“It didn’t hurt when it happened,” he continued. “I must have been either too scared or too shocked to be aware of the pain. I knew what happened back in the room, so maybe I was trying hard to block everything out and blocked the pain out as well.”
Elliot’s entire body was beginning to tremble as he told me his story and then he began to sob in earnest. I sat beside him and pulled him tightly against me in a powerful hug.
“You must have been really scared,” I told him. “I know I would have been.” Elliot looked up at me.
“I was scared, really scared, but I was still hoping that somehow everything would be okay,” he confirmed. “I don’t know how long I was out there, but it was bitterly cold. Then, I heard other people moving around in the woods, but I knew it wasn’t my dad. He would have called out for me and that never happened. I figured whoever had been banging on our motel door was now looking for me too. It had to be the same jerks we’d run into trouble with at the diner. I was sure of it. I thought they must have hurt my dad and now they wanted to get me too. Luckily, it was the police.”
“Right away they started asking a bunch of questions, like what was I doing there and where had I come from, but I couldn’t say anything. It was like I couldn’t make my mouth work. Eventually, one of them asked if I had been staying at the motel. I must have nodded my head, even though I don’t remember doing it, but that’s when I found out my worst fears had come true.” Elliot paused briefly and then continued.
“After they learned I’d been staying at the motel, one of the officers asked if I knew the victim and that’s when I knew my father was dead. I could feel it. They didn’t know it was my dad and they just kept asking me about the victim or the guy in the motel room. Finally, I heard one of them say the word killed and that confirmed what I already knew in my heart.
“He kept asking me who the man was,” he continued, “but I couldn’t say anything. I felt myself slipping into this – I don’t know what to call it, a fog, I guess. I remember I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t find my voice. I just kept hearing those loud voices yelling somewhere in the distance, and even though I tried, I still couldn’t understand what they were saying. I never saw anything either, but I knew it was those assholes from the restaurant. We didn’t know anyone else there, so they had to be the ones that murdered my father.”
Elliot’s entire body was heaving now, as the floodgates he had held closed for so long began to burst open. I held him close and allowed him to release his grief. It was several minutes before he began to calm down and eventually started to speak to me again.
“The police kept asking me all sorts of questions, but for some reason I couldn’t tell them anything,” Elliot admitted. “Everything they asked seemed to come out in a blur. I didn’t know what they wanted, I just knew my dad was gone and that’s all I could think about. I would have given anything to have been able to help them, but it felt like there was nothing I could do. I felt like my mind and my mouth were fighting each other, like my brain wanted to say something that would make everything better, but my mouth wouldn’t cooperate. I don’t know what I would have said though, even if I could have said something.
“I didn’t actually hear what had been said in there because of the rain,” Elliot continued, “and I didn’t see who entered the room or which guy shot my dad. I just kind of tuned out their questions and kept thinking this was my fault. If I hadn’t let my dad take me on this trip, then he wouldn’t have been at that restaurant or argued with those guys. If I hadn’t gone on this trip, he’d still be here.”
Elliot began crying even harder after coming to this conclusion. Seeing this, I felt it was time for me to step in and let him know it wasn’t his fault.
“Elliot, you didn’t do anything to cause this,” I told him, while I held him tightly. “The fault lies only with the three men who couldn’t hold their booze or their tempers. All you did was go on a trip with your dad and you can’t punish yourself just because you wanted to spend time with him. You’d have probably hurt his feeling if you hadn’t wanted to go. Your father sounds like the type of man who wouldn’t have let a bunch of drunks harass a waitress, whether you were there or not. He couldn’t know, and neither could you that doing the right thing would cost him so dearly.”
Elliot’s head suddenly shot up and his blue eyes stared into my face.
“You really believe that?” he asked.
“Of course I do,” I stated, “and I want you to think about this very carefully. Was your father the type of man who would step in to situations like that and try to protect a defenseless woman?”
“Yeah, he believed you should always try to do the right thing and help people in need of help,” Elliot answered.
Elliot sat quietly for a few seconds considering my remarks, and then it appeared as if a light had suddenly gone on in his head.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure he would probably have done that,” he finally concluded. “He was never one to stand around and let someone get picked on.”
“See, so you had nothing to do with what happened,” I reiterated. “Your father would have stepped in to help the waitress, even if you weren’t there.”
Elliot looked slightly relieved by this revelation and I could feel some of the tension easing from his shoulders. It seemed as if he was feeling better than he had a few minutes before, but he wasn’t totally out of the woods yet.
“All this time I felt it was my fault,” he repeated. “I kept playing it over in my head. I just knew if I hadn’t been with him, then he would be at work right now, not – dead.”
“And now you see that’s not true. Right?” I asked.
“Well, I guess,” Elliot admitted. “I can see it still might have happened. I just wish there had been something I could have done to stop it from ending like that.”
“Like what?” I challenged. “Could you have stopped your father from standing up to those men? Or do you think you could have made sure they went home, like the deputies told them? Or were you planning to fight them off at the motel?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds silly. I know I really couldn’t have done any of those things,” he confessed, while looking at me thoughtfully.
“Then you can’t go on blaming yourself for what happened,” I told him.
From that moment on, I sincerely believe things began to change for Elliot, as he finally allowed himself to release the guilt he had been harboring up until then. After a moment, he went into the bathroom to wash his face and then I took him with me to the kitchen, so I could fix his breakfast. That morning, he didn’t merely pick at his food. He ate well for the first time since he’d been with us. I knew that one talk wouldn’t fix everything, but this was definitely a good start.
Elliot spent the rest of the morning following me around the house as usual, but I suspect it was merely because it was what he had become used to doing. I wanted to get him involved with some of the household chores, so he’d have something else to think about other than what had happened to him and his father. I had him help me rinse off the breakfast dishes and load them in the dishwasher, and then later I had him assist me when I made his lunch. We had another little chat as we sat down to eat.
“Thank you for everything else you did by the way,” he said, but I wasn’t sure what he was referring to. I guess he must have realized my confusion, because he added some clarification to his statement.
“I may not have been talking then, but I’ve been taking in everything that’s been happening and I remember all the things you did for my dad’s funeral. It was really nice. I’m sure my dad would have been happy with everything, especially that you made sure the people he worked with were able to come. He loved his job.”
I was actually too choked up to respond to his comment, so I just leaned over and hugged him in reply. He hugged me back and that was more than enough thanks for anything I had done.
That night, after dinner, Elliot sat down with Danny, Brandon, Jake and me, so he could share his story with them. I felt it would be better, and more cathartic for him to do this, rather than have me relay the information.
Elliot basically repeated the same story he’d told me, only this time without blaming himself for what had happened. He did tell them he thought it was his fault at the time, but explained I had helped him realize he didn’t have anything to do with it and couldn’t have prevented it from happening. Danny and Brandon looked up and smiled at me when they heard Elliot admit this, just to let me know they appreciated what I’d done for their son.
Now that Elliot was talking, Danny and Brandon decided it would be a good time to get answers to some of the questions they had. Suddenly, they were firing queries at him, one after the other, with the next one coming just as soon as Elliot had answered the previous one.
“So what were you and your father doing in this area?” Brandon wanted to know.
“My dad’s been traveling a lot lately, because of his job, and wanted to make sure we still spent time together. That’s why he made plans for us to take a leafing trip over the first long weekend from school,” Elliot replied. “We’d been driving around and checking out the leaves that had changed color and doing some hiking in the woods. He liked to stop at the cider mills and some of the historic towns too.”
“You mentioned you were on a long fall break weekend from school, but our district hasn’t had one recently,” Danny stated. “Where did you go to school?”
“I was in a boarding school near my old town, outside of Pittsburgh,” Elliot answered. “It’s called the Benjamin Rush Academy.”
This bit of information caused Danny, Brandon and I to trade glances at one another and wonder if Elliot expected to continue attending private schools if he lived with us.
“Are you a good student?” Brandon asked next.
“Yes, I usually get mostly A’s and B’s,” Elliot answered, “but it’s not like I’m a genius or anything.”
Elliot seemed to be trying to downplay this fact, so as not to appear too nerdy or conceited.
“What grade are you in?” Brandon wanted to know.
“I’m a freshman in high school,” Elliot replied.
“How old are you and when’s your birthday,” Danny followed.
“I turned fourteen last summer,” Elliot informed them. “My birthday is June 29th.”
I could see Danny and Brandon both making mental notes about this information.
“Do you have any other family?” Brandon wondered aloud.
I knew this was bound to come up and we all braced for the possibility that we might lose Elliot.
“Not that I know of,” Elliot confessed. “The only family I remember was my grandfather, but he died when I was little.”
I glanced over at Danny and Brandon and thought I saw them breathe a huge sigh of relief.
“Do you know if there is someone special we should contact, like your father’s lawyer?” Danny wanted to know. “I’m sure there are a lot of loose ends we’ll need to tie up, like getting your things and having your school records transferred.”
“I can give you the address for my old school and I have my house keys, but I don’t know of anyone else you should contact,” Elliot explained. “My dad had lawyer friends and people he worked with, but I don’t know if there is anyone you should get a hold of.”
“Well, that settles that then,” Danny stated. “Is there anything you’d like to ask us?”
“Um, well… I’m not sure how to ask. Are you guys… uh, married?” Elliot inquired.
The boys weren’t quite prepared for that question. It seems obvious now that it would eventually come up, but we’d all been so concerned about Elliot and his recovery that we hadn’t given any thought to how he might react to being in a house full of gay men.
“Oh, well, no… not exactly. Pennsylvania doesn’t recognize same sex marriage.” Danny answered, awkwardly.
“We’ve been in love since high school and when we finished college we decided to commit ourselves to each other, so our relationship is like a marriage,” Brandon offered. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”
I think we were all holding our breath, while we waited to hear Elliot’s response. A lot was riding on his reaction to this query. Clearly, he couldn’t stay in a home where he was uncomfortable, yet we had already grown so attached to him.
“It doesn’t make any difference to me, I don’t mind,” Elliot answered. “I’m just glad to be in a place where everyone is so nice.”
I think we all breathed our second sigh of relief in less than two minutes.
As I looked up, I could see Brandon was about to ask another question, but I cut this session short.
“Let’s continue this later,” I told them. “I’ll bet Elliot is tired of answering so many questions and could use a break.”
Danny and Brandon didn’t seem as if they wanted to stop here, but they relented to my request. I think they were afraid that if Elliot stopped speaking, he might slip back into his unresponsive state, but I was confident those days were behind us. I suggested next that Elliot should go find Jesse and see what he was up to, while Danny, Brandon, Jake and I discussed some of the issues that had surfaced during this impromptu interrogation.
We actually left Elliot alone for the rest of the evening and merely watched him interact with Jesse and Joshie. It was nothing earthshaking or extraordinary, but it was nice to see him finally acting like a kid and having a little fun.
Later that evening, Elliot woke up screaming from the terror of his nightmares, but it was not nearly as bad as it had been the first few times it had happened. In fact, this only happened a few more times in the coming weeks and these episodes appeared to be slowly coming to an end.
Over the next few days, Elliot continued to show positive signs that he was healing and dealing with his demons. One of these was that he was interacting more with Dion and Trey too, and not merely relying on Danny, Brandon and I.
Strangely enough, the most interesting of Elliot’s recent interactions was with Joshie. Joshie was with me in the family room at the time, when Elliott approached us.
“Is this your teddy bear?” Elliot asked, while holding it up.
“Uh huh,” Joshie answered.
“Hmmm, I wonder how he got in my bed then?” Elliot followed.
“Ummm, you were sad and I thought Teddy would make you feel better,” Joshie told him. “I brought him to your room and put him in bed with you.”
Elliot smiled broadly.
“Well, that was very thoughtful of you and Teddy helped me sleep much better, but I don’t need him anymore,” Elliot confessed, before giving Joshie a hug. “Why don’t you take him back now? He’s already helped me, but I think he misses you.”
“Okay,” Joshie said, “but you can have him back, if you get sad again.”
Upon hearing this, Elliot hugged Joshie one more time and then ruffled his hair.
“Thank you. That’s very sweet of you,” Elliot said.
Joshie let his head drop slightly, after hearing this, as his way of showing he was slightly embarrassed by the attention Elliot had given him.
“Yes, you did a very nice thing,” I told Joshie, before Elliot left, “and it helped Elliot a great deal. I’m very proud of you for doing that to help him.”
Joshie gave me that, ‘aw shucks’ look and then took off to put Teddy back in his room. Elliot shared a knowing grin with me and then turned his attention to Jesse, who had come in to watch television.
“You were a big help too,” Elliot admitted, while looking in Jesse’s direction. “It was really nice of you to tell me about what had happened to you. It made me feel like I wasn’t so alone. It also made me feel like I might be okay again someday, like you are. As bad as things have been, it’s nice to know that someone else knows what it’s like.”
“I didn’t do anything special,” Jesse balked, “but I did want you to know that I had been there when my father was killed. I remember how bad I felt after it happened and I didn’t speak again, until I came here to live.”
“I can understand why you stopped speaking, but what happened that made you start talking again?” Elliot wanted to know.
“After I came here, I became really good friends with one of my new brothers,” Jesse explained. “One day we were riding our bikes and Andrew had an accident. I could tell he was hurt, because he wasn’t moving, so I rushed back here and told Dad that Andrew was hurt.”
Jesse looked up at me, so I could confirm his story.
“Yep, that’s what happened and it was the first time any of us had heard Jesse talk,” I agreed. “He didn’t speak as clearly as he is now, but he spoke well enough that I could understand what he was saying. After he did that, we raced down to see how badly Andrew was injured. If Jesse hadn’t spoken, I would have never known Andrew was hurt and he might not have survived.”
“Wow! You were a hero then,” Elliot stated, as he looked at Jesse. “Where is Andrew now?”
“He’s away at college at the moment, but he’ll be coming home for Thanksgiving and you’ll be able to meet him then,” I answered.
This seemed to suffice for now and before long I saw Jesse leading Elliot out of the family room and on a tour around the rest of the house. I think the healing process was moving into high gear now, which will make life a little easier for everybody.
- 6
- 4
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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