The Root Beer Boys - 2. Chapter 2

As soon as dad and Wayne stopped crying and hugging, mom moved in and the three of them hugged a little. I think she was trying to show Wayne that he was welcome but realized that his real mother had only died a few months ago. After their hug, mom went over and spoke to the social worker. Wayne gave me a look that was shy, and I think a little fearful. I just went up to him and took his suitcase.

"Come on in, Wayne. I'm Andy. I'll show you where our room is."

"You mean you're going to share your room with me?"

Without thinking, I said, "Well, it's not like I had a choice." God! I can be so dumb sometimes.

I heard him sniffing as we walked through the house towards my room, OUR room, I mean. By the time we got to our room (it only took about 15 seconds), I realized what I had said and how it must have sounded to the new kid.

"I'm sorry, Wayne. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I mean, yeah there isn't much to choose from. We only have two bedrooms. But even if we had a dozen, I would have wanted you to sleep in mine!"

That was true, too. I had been apprehensive about it until he showed up. But the minute I laid eyes on him, I knew I was going to enjoy having him here. And suddenly sharing a bedroom didn't seem like such a bad idea after all.

"Do you really mean that?"

I stopped at the doorway and looked at him, giving him as serious a look as an eleven-year-old can.

"Yeah, Wayne, I'm serious as a heart attack."

I don't know where I heard that phrase before, but it made him laugh. Geez, he had the cutest laugh I ever heard. "Serious as a heart attack" became one of our favorite phrases.

I tossed his suitcase on his bed and sat down on mine.

"That one's yours. The bottom two drawers of the dresser are yours, and the left side of the closet is yours too." "I don't really have that much stuff. Just what's in this suitcase."

Wow, was this kid cute. He sat there on his bed, looking at me with these cute puppy-dog eyes, and I knew I was going to love him. Maybe I already did.

"Why don't you get unpacked then? It obviously won't take long. Then we can talk to mom and dad about getting you some more clothes."

"Are you serious? More clothes already? I just got here."

"Serious as a heart attack!"

We burst out laughing again. I love his laugh.

When we stopped laughing, I noticed he seemed nervous about opening his suitcase. Not understanding why, I stepped over and opened it myself. Before he could react, I tossed the lid back. There on top of what little he had was a little brown teddy bear. As I turned to say something, I saw that Wayne had tears in his eyes again. We're going to get along just great, I thought with some exasperation. Wayne cries as easily as I do.

"What's the matter Wayne?"

"I didn't want you to see my teddy bear. Now you're going to think I'm a sissy or something."

Without thinking, I turned and sat down beside him and hugged him to me. He seemed so little and so fragile right then.

"What's his name?" I whispered.

"Honey."

"Well, Honey," I said as I lifted the bear from the suitcase. "Meet George."

Wayne looked up and wiped his eyes as I leaned over and drew my George Jetson doll from under the covers of my bed.

"This is my bedmate. He's bigger than yours, and I'm older than you. So, you see? You and Honey should feel right at home here, and nobody's calling you a sissy when I'm around."

Wayne jumped into my arms and gave me a big hug.

"Thanks, Andy. I think I'm going to like it here."

After we got Wayne's suitcase unpacked and stored under his bed, we joined mom and dad for lunch. Wayne was kind of quiet to begin with but had opened up quite a bit by the time we were finished with our sandwiches and chips.

"Wayne doesn't have much in the way of clothes, dad. Should I just take over the whole closet since he won't be needing it?"

Dad and Wayne both looked at me like I had just spilled forth with the foulest language they'd ever heard. Then I saw a grin in dad's eyes. He knew I was just kidding.

"Nope, Squirt. I think we'll all just have to truck over to J. C. Penney's and see what we can do about filling up that closet."

So we spent the afternoon at Penney's, where we bought just about one of everything in Wayne's size. Mom always took me to Penney's for my clothes. I loved their t-shirts and briefs. For some reason, I never did like boxers. I think I like the way the briefs hugged me down there.

Anyway, we stocked up on underwear, socks, pants, shorts, sport shirts and dress shirts, and one pair of swimming trunks. That last one was fun. Wayne wanted speedos, so we took a couple into the dressing room along with some of the boxer type. The sign said you were supposed to leave your underwear on when trying on swimwear, but they felt funny, and Wayne couldn't decide which ones fit that way. So I looked around to make sure there weren't any peeping-tom cameras watching us and told him to take 'em off.

The changing cubicle was really small, so I waited outside the door. When he had each suit on, he'd open the door and get my opinion. Wow. That kid looked good in speedos, even to me, an eleven-year-old boy. He had a nice little bump in the front, and his tummy was tight. For a nine-year-old, he looked really good naked; well, almost naked.

I was going to try on a pair, but we didn't have time. We had been having so much fun trying on clothes, laughing, giggling and stuff, that I thought mom and dad were just going to auction us off to some poor unsuspecting grandmother just to get rid of us. Did I tell you Wayne had a giggle that was just as cute as his laugh? I knew I was going to love having him as a brother.

That night after dinner, we watched a little TV, then went to bed fairly early. It had been a pretty tiring day for Wayne, emotionally as well as physically. When we started to get undressed for bed, I was a little nervous. I'd never been naked in front of another boy before, not this close anyway. But Wayne didn't seem at all bashful. As I stood there in my jockey shorts, he just slipped his underwear off and threw them in the hamper.

With that, we slipped into our pj's and crawled into our beds. Mom and dad came in right after that to kiss us good night and tuck the covers around us. I don't know why, exactly, but I don't think Wayne was used to that.

About fifteen minutes later, I thought I heard sniffling from his side of the room. I stopped breathing and listened really hard. Sure enough, he was crying. Being pretty emotional myself, I hate it when someone else is upset or hurting, so I slipped out of my bed and crawled into his.

"What's the matter Wayne?"

(Sniff)
"I'm not sure. I'm so happy, but I'm scared, too."

"What's to be scared of? You got me, and mom, and dad, and new clothes. You want a dog? Or a cat? Or maybe a pony?"

I was trying to be funny, but I don't think it worked.

"I'm scared I'll wake up and find myself back in the foster home. It was OK there, and I was happy, but this is different. Here I have family. (Sniff) I finally found my dad, Andy! And I'm afraid of losing him, just like I lost my mom."

By this time, he had worked himself up into a real crying jag, not just little sniffles and whimpers. Of course, this set me off, too. I didn't want him to know I was crying, so I didn't say anything. I just snuggled up close to him and put my arm over him and pulled him up tight against me. I just laid there like that, my head on his pillow, making little shushing noises.

After a while, he calmed down enough to talk again.

"And now you're going to think you have a crybaby for a brother and won't want me here."

I couldn't answer him because of my own tears, so I just rolled him over towards me. When he was facing me in the dark, I took his hand and placed his fingertips on my wet cheek just below my eye. He slid his fingers down my cheek, feeling my tears, his hands coming to rest on my lips. I could almost feel his eyes looking at me.

"You're crying, too?"

I struggled to answer him, choking back my emotions, and whispering.

"Yes, little brother, I'm crying, too. Welcome to the land of rising waters."

He giggled and cried at the same time. Then he practically lunged forward and wrapped his arms around me, his cheek resting on mine.

"Thanks, Andy. I know I'm going to like it here, now. Will you sleep in my bed tonight?"

Holding him tightly, I joked, "Well, I guess, if I hafta."

He punched me on the shoulder and rolled back over, snuggling himself against me so we were like two spoons in a drawer. I think we were both asleep in less than a minute.