The Castaway Hotel
Book 1

By: B W
(© 2012 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 3

Getting To Know You.

We stopped at the supermarket on the way home and picked up two filet mignons for me to fix.  I had meat in the freezer, but didn’t want to make him wait while it thawed out.  We were home in no time after that, but Ricky still found time to tell me all about his day, while we were in the store and in the car.  It seems he had done quite well, especially since none of his teachers had any problems with him. 

“You know, I’m very proud of you,” I informed him, which caused him to turn in my direction. 

“How come?” he asked, puzzled. 

“It’s because you went a whole day without getting sent to my office.”  He grinned. 

“I told you I was going to do better, and I did,” he announced, proudly.  I reached across the seat, tousled his hair and thanked him, just as we pulled into our driveway.

While I fixed dinner, I told Ricky he could go outside and explore.  I advised him that he should probably take a tour of the grounds, but I didn’t want him to go into the woods unless I was with him.  Other children had become lost in there and I wanted him to get accustomed to that area with me first, before I allowed him to enter it on his own.  I informed him that there was also a very sudden and steep drop-off at one spot, which formed the upper bank along the creek.  Falling off of that could cause serious injury to anyone who had been unobservant or momentarily distracted, and I preferred not to risk his safety like that.  He seemed pleased that I would worry about him getting hurt and agreed to abide by my restriction.  Before long, he was heading out the door, looking eagerly toward this new adventure.

He returned about thirty minutes later, just as I was taking dinner off the grill.  I asked him to go wash up, before he joined me in the dining room to eat, and it didn’t take long before he returned.  After looking him over, I had to send him back, a second time, to do a little better job of removing the dirt.  This time he returned clean and sporting a healthy appetite.  He not only enjoyed his steak, but also consumed two baked potatoes and had double helping of salad besides.  Once we were done eating, he helped me take all of the dishes off the table, and then he rinsed them and loaded them into dishwasher for me, while I cleaned up the broiler pan and put everything else away.  What impressed me the most was he had done his share of the work without any prompting from me.

When we had completed the clean-up process, I asked him if he had finished all of his schoolwork and he quickly informed me that he had completed most of it in the library.  He wanted to know if he could watch television after he finished the rest of it and I immediately agreed he could.  He grabbed his math book and set about working on the last of his problems at the dining room table, but once he completed them, he came into the family room and scooted beside me, on the sofa.  I was reading the newspaper, so I reached over, grabbed the remote and handed it to him.  He eagerly took it from me, made himself comfortable and then flipped on the TV.  It didn’t take him long to find something to watch, as he came across a movie, which I agreed was suitable for him.  Then, I went back to my paper. 

I read for about a half hour or so and when I finished, I set the paper down.  The minute Ricky saw me finish reading; he slid closer and cuddled against me.  I think he’d been waiting for me to get done, so he could do this.  We stayed like that until the movie ended and I think we both enjoyed the special closeness. 

I was trying to think of other things he could do after dinner in the future, seeing I didn’t want him spending all of his time watching television, so I asked him if he ever used the computers at school.  He said he had and really enjoyed working on them, but added that he never had enough time to do much.  I told him, that if he wanted, I would show him how to use the computer in my office tomorrow, after dinner.  He enthusiastically cheered and told me he’d like that, so I took it a step further and informed him I’d make a special screen name for him on my Internet account too.  He seemed thrilled by my offer and was soon hugging me energetically. 

Once he settled back down, we watched one more show together, with one of my arms wrapped around his body and Ricky nestled snuggly against my side.  When the show ended, I told him it was time for bed, but I could tell from his expression that he wasn’t pleased.  He countered that he wasn’t tired yet, so I suggested he might like to read in bed for a while first.

“I don’t like to read much,” he stated, dryly.  “Besides, I don’t got any books.” 

“You don’t HAVE any books,” I corrected him.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” he countered, and I recognized he missed my point.  I was about to correct him, but felt it would be best to just let this slide, because I had something more important to accomplish with him.

“I think I still have a collection of books that my children used to read,” I told him.  “They should be in the closet in my office.  My children read in their rooms quite often at night, especially the oldest and the youngest.  The middle two didn’t read quite as much, but they still read some.   Why don’t you like to read?” I pressed.  He looked up at me and his expression told me he wasn’t sure if he should be honest about this.  Instinctively, I tried to put him at ease.  “It’s okay.  I was just wondering,” I added.

“It’s all boring and dumb stuff,” he finally responded.  I appreciated his honesty and knew I would have to prove him wrong.

“Okay.  I can see why you might think that, if you’ve never read the right books,” I explained, causing him to stare at me, as he wondered where I was going with this.  “Look, I’ll make a deal with you,” I continued.  “I’ll get one of the books from my office and read you a chapter a night before you go to sleep.  If you don’t like it, by the time I’ve finished the book, I won’t make you read on your own.  Deal?”  He studied me carefully for a few seconds before answering.

“Yeah, that sounds okay,” he finally conceded.  I wasn’t sure if he really wanted to hear the story or if it was just a way to get me off his back.  Then I had another thought; maybe he agreed to this because he just wanted to spend the extra time with me.  Whatever his reason, I had my chance to prove a point.

“You go upstairs, brush your teeth, go to the toilet and put on what you’re going to wear to bed,” I advised him.  “While you’re doing that, I’ll go to my office and find a book.  I’ll meet you in your room in a few minutes.”  He raced up the stairs and I headed for my office.  When I finally walked into his bedroom a short time later, I was carrying a well-worn, taped together, dog-eared copy of ‘The Hobbit,’ by J.R.R. Tolkien.  It had been one of my children’s favorites.  Ricky was already in his bed, so I sat down beside him.  I opened to the first chapter, ‘An Unexpected Party’ and began to read.  “In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit…”

Ricky paid close attention to the whole chapter, occasionally stopping me to ask what a particular word meant.  He appeared smarter than I first imagined, as I expected him to have a bit more difficulty with the terminology that was used, but he did very well.

“Can you read another chapter, Dad?” he asked, once I finished and started to set the book down.

“I can,” I responded, “but the question should have been ‘Would you read another chapter?’  The answer to that question would be no, because it is getting late.”  He groaned hearing my reply, which indicated to me that I was starting to get him hooked on books.

“It’s time for you to go to sleep, but I’ll read you another chapter tomorrow evening.”  I paused while I looked at him, trying to read his reaction to my suggestion. 

“Okay,” he told me, with a certain amount of dejection still evident in his tone. 

Satisfied he wasn’t going to throw a temper tantrum, I moved on to my next concern.  “Ricky, do you say your prayers before going to sleep?”

He gave me a dirty look before he answered.  “I used to, but God never seemed to hear them, so I stopped.”

“Well, I think this might be a good time to give it another try,” I suggested, hoping he would go along.  “What would you say to that?”  He wrinkled his nose and made a little face before answering me.

“I’ll do it if you want me to,” he countered, somewhat stubbornly, “but I don’t think it’s going to do any good.”

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you would humor me by doing this.  Would you please kneel beside the bed with me?”  He nodded and we both got down on our knees.  “Do you think you can do this on your own?”

“I’ll try, but I think you might need to help me.”

“That’s fine.  Just let me know when.”  He nodded again and spent a few seconds thinking about what he wanted to say.  Finally, he was ready to begin.

“Dear God.  It’s me, Ricky Glover.  I know you haven’t heard from me in a while, but my new dad thinks I should say my prayers before I go to bed.”  I thought he was off to a fine start.  “I never thought you heard my prayers before, but I might have been wrong.  Maybe you were the one who helped to find my new home and my new dad.  If you did, I just want to say thank you.  This is the nicest I’ve ever had it.  Don’t get me wrong, I loved my mom, but sometimes she’d do her drugs and start acting crazy.  Sometimes she scared me a lot.  I like my new house and my new dad, so I’ll be saying my prayers every night from now on.  I guess that’s all.  Amen.”  He turned and looked at me.  “Was that all right?”

“That was more than all right,” I assured him with a hug.  “That was perfect.”

He hopped back into bed and I tucked him in.  “Good night, Dad,” he said with another grin on his face.

“Good night, son,” I responded, kissing him on the forehead.  “I’ll see you in the morning.”  I turned off the light and went back downstairs.  I spent a great deal of time replaying his prayer in my mind.  What he said had sent tingles up and down my spine.  He made me feel incredible, knowing he was so happy being here with me.  It also made me think this whole experiment may be a lot easier than I ever suspected.  I know there will probably still be some rough times ahead, but he seems to be pleased with this situation and was giving me his best effort.  How could I not want to also do my best for this lovable little scamp?

The rest of the week went about the same.  Ricky continued to adapt to living with me, stayed out of trouble at school and was able to keep up with his schoolwork.  During that week, I also showed him how to use my computer, established a sign-on for him and set up the parental controls.  I even set him up with his own email account.  Once that had been accomplished, I introduced him to the programs and games that he would be allowed to use.  Every evening, when he went to bed, I would read to him another chapter from ‘The Hobbit’ and he would say his prayers.  What pleased me even more was the past two nights he ended his prayer by adding ‘and God bless Dad,’ before saying ‘Amen.’

Pleased with how things were going, I planned a special weekend for us, but I didn’t tell Ricky about my intentions.  I wanted it to be a surprise.  I had been eyeing the clothes he wore and decided he needed a new wardrobe for school.  His old clothes would do fine for play or roughhousing, but he needed something better for school, at least now that he was living with me.  I noted the sizes on the various things he wore and that seemed to fit him best, so when Saturday morning arrived, I announced we had something we needed to do.

“Where are we going, Dad?” he wanted to know.

“Why don’t you just wait and find out,” I told him, not wanting to end his suspense.  He protested a little, as his curiosity got the best of him, but he eventually did as I asked.  We got in the car and I drove directly to the local shopping mall.  After parking the car, he followed me inside and I led him directly to the boys’ section of my favorite department store. 

“What are we doing here,” he asked, and I winked at him.

“I thought we’d buy you some new outfits for school,” I advised him. 

“Why?  I’ve got school clothes,” he protested, mildly, while also looking a bit confused. 

“You have clothes, but they’re getting a little worn,” I informed him.  “You can use those for times other than school.”

“Are you sure?” he countered, which told me his major concern was something other than thinking he didn’t need new clothes.  “I mean, you don’t have to spend money on me like this,” he continued.  “The clothes I have are okay.”  I quickly concluded he was worried about becoming a financial burden on me.  It must have been something he’d had to worry about when he lived with his mother. 

“What if I WANT to do this?” I shot back, causing an even more befuddled look to cross his face.  After several seconds of silence, he finally responded.

“Mom always said we shouldn’t spend a lot of money on clothes, seeing they didn’t seem to last very long anyway.  I don’t mind wearing those other things.”

“I know you don’t, Ricky, and I appreciate that you’re trying to be thoughtful and save me money,” I explained.  “However, there is a difference in the amount of money your mother had to spend and what I have.  I think you need these things, and I don’t mind paying for them.  I want you to have some nice clothes and I want you to help choose your own things too, just in case you were worried about that.”

“I wasn’t worried but… I get to pick out my own things?” he asked, surprised.

“Sure, why not?” I countered, finding it hard to believe he was acting like he’d never done this before. 

“Well, it’s just that my mom used to buy all of my clothes when I wasn’t with her.  Either that or I’d get them as presents for my birthday or Christmas,” he explained. 

“Oh, you’ll still get presents that you won’t get to choose for yourself, but any other time we decide you need clothing or anything else, then you’ll get to go with me and show me what you want.”

“That’s neat,” he squealed.  “Thanks, Dad.”  With that, he turned and began to look at the various racks and tables filled with clothing. 

We had a pleasant time shopping and his excitement about everything just thrilled me.  Talk about a kid in a candy store.  After much encouragement and prodding from me, he ended up selecting several pairs of pants, several shirts, some socks, tee shirts and underwear.  He even talked me into letting him buy a couple of three packs of bikini briefs.   He actually wanted to buy more of those, but I suggested he try them first, to see if he liked them, and then I made him take two other packages of regular briefs, just in case.  I told him if he liked the bikini briefs, I’d bring the regular packs back and exchange them for him later.  Reluctantly, he accepted my suggestion without much of an argument.  Once that was settled, I took him to the back of the store, where we picked out a pair of dress shoes, a pair of hiking boots and a new pair of athletic shoes for him.  After making our way back to the checkouts, I paid for everything and we left.  We both had a couple of bags in our hands, as we made our way out to the car.  We tossed the packages in the back seat, and just as soon as his hands were empty, Ricky threw his arms around my waist.

“What’s that for?” I wanted to know.  Slowly, he looked up at me, before he spoke. 

“That’s for being so nice and buying me all that stuff,” he informed me, and I thought I noticed a tear in his eye as he said this.  “I don’t think anyone’s ever spent so much money on me before.  Thank you, Dad.”

“You’re welcome and it’s not that big of a deal,” I assured him.  “I felt you needed those things, so there wasn’t any question in my mind about buying them for you.”

“I know,” he agreed, “but you spent a lot of money on me and you let me get what I wanted.  That was really nice and it means a lot to me.”

“Thank you.  It’s nice to have such a thoughtful and appreciative son,” I responded, while giving him a hug of my own.  After that, we went back home, had a quick lunch and then I told Ricky to put on his new boots.

“What for?” he wanted to know, while flashing me a puzzled look. 

“Well, I thought I’d take you out for a walk in the woods and show you around,” I explained.  “My children always loved it out in our little forest and I still spend a great deal of time there myself.  I find the woods very relaxing and so beautiful.”

“Yeah, it sounds like fun,” he quickly agreed.  “I’ll be right back.  It will only take me a minute to put my boots on.”  While Ricky was doing that, I threw on some old clothes, a pair of my boots and grabbed a flannel shirt to cover my arms, to protect them from the briars that are so plentiful in some of the areas we would be visiting.  When he returned, I tossed Ricky one of my old hooded sweatshirts, which had hung in the closet in the rec room, before guiding him out the back door.

It was a lovely spring day.  The sun was shining, the birds were singing and there was a light breeze rustling the leaves.  As we entered the woods, I pointed out to Ricky the characteristics of the various types of trees we encountered – the walnut, maple, elm, birch and so on.  I also pointed out some of the interesting features of this specific area, along with the potentially dangerous ones.  We walked in a large loop around this section of my property and then I asked Ricky how far he thought we had traveled from home.  He surprised me when he told me we’d just been traveling in a circle and we were in about the same spot where we started.  I thought that was very observant of him.  The first few times I had done something like this with my children, they always thought we were miles away from home.  I did this to show them how easily they could get confused out on their own, which might cause them to become lost.  It had always proved to be a valuable lesson for the rest of them, but it hadn’t worked that way with Ricky.  He informed me he had used the sun to keep his bearings and I was quite impressed by his knowledge and instincts. 

We completed our little tour of the woods and went back to the house.  As I began preparing dinner, Ricky started chatting away.  “That was a lot of fun, Dad.  Can we do it again sometime?”  His smile was radiant and he seemed to be genuinely sincere about enjoying our outing. 

“Sure,” I told him, “we could do that, but the way you handled yourself out there, I’m not sure you even need me to go with you.  You’re a natural and I now know that I won’t have to worry about you getting lost.”  His chest seemed to swell with pride as I said that.

“Thanks,” he replied, “but it’s more fun with you.  So, can we do it again?”  His face was still radiant, but it also took on a pleading expression, as he tried to convince me he was being honest and wanted me to agree. 

“I’d be happy to go with you again,” I confirmed, which made him almost glow.  “But how did you learn so much about being in the woods?”

“I used to run into the woods by my old apartment when my mom and her boyfriends started doing their drugs.  Sometimes they would get real mean and I didn’t want to be around them when they were like that.  It got so bad that I would sleep outside sometimes, so I didn’t have to go back in the apartment before her friends left.  I tried to watch the windows, to see if they were still there, but that didn’t always work.  Sometimes they would lay down on the furniture or the floor, kind of out of it, until I walked in.  Then they’d get up and start giving me shit… I mean, crap.  Sorry, Dad.”

“That’s all right.  We all make mistakes sometimes, but please continue with your story.”

“Well, I started spending more time in the woods than I did at home, so I began to learn a bunch of things on my own.  I liked it there.  Nobody was screaming at me, getting mad or trying to hit me.  It was real nice there.  I built a lean-to and brought some blankets and a small pillow to keep out there.  I put them in a big, plastic garbage bag, so they wouldn’t get wet.  That way, they’d always be there when I needed them and I’d always have a place to stay.”

My heart ached for him, as I listened to his sad story.  No child should have to go through anything like that, but he seemed to shake it off, like it was something everyone had to do.  Maybe to him it was just a part of growing up and that’s why it didn’t seem to bother him, although I suspected that period of his life had scarred him deeply.  “Where did you live after your mother died?” I asked him, trying to get him to tell me more.  I already knew bits and pieces of this story, but I wanted his take on it.

“I lived in a couple of different places, but I never felt like they wanted me there.  It wasn’t like it is with you, Dad.  I can tell that you want me here, but at the first place, the people had their own kids and I was just there.  They never bought me anything, they never read me stories and they didn’t even talk to me that much.  I didn’t like it with them and they made me call them Mr. and Mrs. Rogers.”  I could see the anguish and pain on his face as he relayed his story. 

“So, why did you leave there?” I asked, curious as to what happened. 

“It was like being in jail,” he told me.  “I couldn’t do or say anything and their kids didn’t like me.  They were always busting on me cuz I didn’t have a home or family.  I hated it there, so one night I just didn’t go back.  The next day at school, some lady came and talked to me about where I was, and I told her how I hated it there.”

“Was it Mrs. Swarthout who spoke with you?” I wanted to know.

“Nah, it was some other lady, but I think they work together,” he told me.

“What about the second place?” I prodded, hoping to learn even more.

“That was just a place they send people who have nowhere else to go.  It wasn’t a family or anything, so it wasn’t very nice either.  I didn’t talk much to anyone, cuz they were mostly old.  It was really boring there.”

This news made me feel even worse for him, but I was beginning to realize that Ricky didn’t give his trust or affection easily.  Knowing that, I was even more honored by the fact he wanted to call me Dad and often told me he loved me.  When a child grows up without much love or attention, they often find it very difficult to express those feelings later in life.  They generally tend to end up having difficulty getting close to anyone and their relationships are often cold and loveless.  Fortunately, Ricky was able to bond with me quickly, possibly because of our relationship at school, and now he seemed to feel right at home.  I know if others joined our little family, the transition would probably not go nearly as well. 

When I finished preparing dinner, we sat down to eat.  Ricky still amazed me with the amount of food his little body could devour.  After that, we spent a quiet evening on the couch, with Ricky cuddled up beside me, watching TV.  When the last show ended, I sent him to his room to get ready for bed.  As I walked in a few minutes later, to read him the next chapter from the book, he jumped out in front of me, modeling a pair of his new bikini underwear.

“What do you think of them, Dad?” he asked, spinning around, so I would get the full impression.  They actually looked like a pair of Speedos on him.

“I think they look like they could use some more material,” I teased, to see how he’d react.  “What do you think of them?”

“I like them,” he affirmed, smiling quite broadly.  “Will you exchange the others for me now?”  He looked hopeful that I’d readily agree.

“Why don’t we wait until you’ve had the chance to wear them for a while longer first?” I advised him.  “If you still like them after a few more days, then I’ll exchange the others.”  I must admit he looked rather cute in them and was more physically mature than I would have suspected for someone his age.  He seemed sincerely thrilled about this change in his wardrobe and continued to spin around and strike poses, to show me how proud he was of his new undies.  That’s when I discovered he had a very nice, firm butt too.  I finally got him to sit on the bed with me, while I read him another chapter from ‘The Hobbit.’  After we finished, he said his prayers, hopped back into bed and promptly fell asleep.

The next morning, I was startled into consciousness when this little blond madman leaped onto me, bringing me instantaneously out of a deep sleep.  “Come on, wake up” he pleaded.  “I’m hungry and I want to do something today.”  I looked at the clock.  It read 6:30.

“It’s Sunday,” I groaned.  “I usually sleep a little later on Sunday, so why don’t you just crawl in here with me and we’ll lie here for a little while longer.”

Tentatively, he got in beside me.  “OK, but not for too long,” he informed me.  I think he actually liked the idea of spending more time with me though, even if it was in bed.  He let me get another 45 minutes of sleep before he started up again.

“My stomach’s growling.  Can’t you hear it?” he whined, as his eyes begged me to get up and feed him.

“All right.  I’m moving,” I answered, giving up any chance of catching a few more winks.  Although I knew he could take care of himself, it seemed important to him that I do this for him.  “We’ll get ready for church, but we’ll go out for breakfast first,” I informed him.  “Will that be satisfactory with you?”  His eyes rolled back into their sockets and his chest heaved with a sigh.

“Do we have to go to church?” he asked, his lack of enthusiasm for sitting in a pew evident in his voice and facial expressions.

“Yes, we do,” I stated, adamantly, and I think he read the determination on my face as well. 

“All right.  I was just checking,” he shot back, before running back to his own room, gathering his things and heading for the shower.  I got cleaned up as well, and by the time I had finished, Ricky was already downstairs waiting for me.

“What took you so long?” he asked, his impatience very evident.

“I guess I just don’t have your energy,” I responded, sarcastically.

“Yeah, a lot of people say that,” he quipped, matter-of-factly.  “Well, come on, let’s go eat.”

We went out to breakfast and then to church.  It was really a very pleasant time and Ricky was very well behaved.  Even though we were sitting on a hard pew, he snuggled up against my side and that seemed to be enough to satisfy him. 

When we got home, there were two messages on my answering machine.  The first was from my older son, telling me he just wanted to say ‘hi,’ which reminded me of something else I needed to do.  I’d better tell my children about Ricky in the near future, before they call and he answers the phone.  If I don’t remember to do tell them and they don’t accidentally find out on their own, they’ll certainly be in for a big surprise on their next visit here. 

The second message was from Sally Swarthout.  “Josh, please call me as soon as you can.  I have another favor to ask of you.”

To be continued...

Posted: 06/15/12