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 16
Starting in Washington, D.C. 

I received my requested wake up call from the front desk on schedule and headed for the bathroom first.  I took a short shower, dressed quickly and then began to rouse the boys.  Although they were still a little groggy, they were true to their word and didn’t give me any problems.  They understood that if they did, I might make them go to bed even earlier tonight.  Once they were dressed, I loaded them into the van and we set off to find a decent place to eat. 

The boys started to come to life, once they began to shovel food into their mouths.  They also downed glass after glass of juice, to wash it down with.  As they shook off their drowsiness, they began to question me about what we were going to do today.  I guess they hadn’t learned yet that I like to be tight lipped about our destinations.  As we got ready to leave, I left the waitress a sizable tip, to reward her for her hard work and patience, because the boys had run her ragged chasing after the many things they ordered.  That was one gratuity she had definitely earned.

After I paid the bill, we made our way into D.C. and our first stop – the White House.  I mean, where better to begin a tour of the nation’s capital?  Before we got there, I tried to fill the boys in about a few White House facts, so they’d be a little better prepared for what they were going to see. 

“Okay, guys, listen up.  I did a little research before we left, so I could give you a little background about the White House before we go inside.  George Washington signed an Act of Congress in 1790, establishing a district on the Potomac River, where the federal government would reside.  It was later named Washington, D.C. in his honor.”

“Hey, I thought this was supposed to be a fun trip,” Ricky whined, “but this sounds more like being in school.  No fair.” 

“Oh, come on,” I replied, “can’t learning be fun too.  I wanted you to know these things, so our visit would make more sense to you when you saw everything.”

“He isn’t going to test us later about this, is he?” I heard Jay whisper to Ricky, but more loudly than he thought he had.

“No, there will be no tests, just remember what you can.  Okay?”  All the boys nodded, although not with much enthusiasm.

“There’s just a little more, so listen up,” I advised them, followed by some low groans.  “The cornerstone for the White House was laid in 1792, based on a design by James Hoban, an Irish-born architect.  George Washington never got to live in the White house, even though he helped plan how this area would be developed.  He lived in Presidential residences in New York and Philadelphia, so John Adams was the first occupant of the White House, taking up residence in 1800.  The White House survived a fire in 1814, during the War of 1812, and Dolly Madison helped to save many valuable artifacts, including Gilbert Stuart’s famous portrait of President Washington.”

“Did they leave any spots, so you could see where it had been burned?” Brandon asked, hopefully.

“No, they rebuilt it like new.  In fact, the White House has gone thru several renovations and expansions.  It was expanded and restored during Teddy Roosevelt’s presidency, during the early 1900’s, then in the 1940’s, during Harry Truman’s term in office, the first and second floors were completely gutted and renovated, and in the 1960’s, Jackie Kennedy became involved with another renovation project.”

“How come they had to do it so often,” Danny wanted to know, seemingly interested by this information. 

“Just like any house, repairs are needed from time to time,” I advised him, “but during the Truman years, the leg of a piano actually broke through the floor.”

“Did it fall to the floor below?” Danny wondered.

“No, just the leg broke through, not the entire piano,” I explained. 

“Shucks,” was his only response.

I thought that would give them a suitable background for what they were going to see, and I think the boys appreciated those little tidbits of information, even after their earlier complaints. 

As we approached the building, just looking at it from the outside was impressive enough, especially when seeing it for the first time in person.  The thing was, it only got better when we entered the well-known edifice.  The boys walked around the building in awe, impressed not only by its size, but the splendor and history it radiated, as well.  How could you not help but think about all the presidents, vice-presidents, first ladies and others who had spent time within those great walls?

As we walked along the ground-floor corridor, we looked through the doors of the Vermeil room and the Library, before walking up the stairs to the State floor.  Once there, we entered the East Room, a large rectangular room that is good for holding receptions, parties, funerals and for viewing movies or the performing arts.  Jay busily looked through an informational brochure as we toured the East Room and was eager to pass along what he read.  

“Hey, it say here that Mrs. Adams used to hang her laundry on clotheslines in this room,” he announced.  “Can’t you just see some foreign dignitary walking in here and running into the President’s or First Lady’s underwear?”  The boys all began to laugh. 

“Hey, it also says the caskets of most of the assassinated Presidents have rested in state here,” he continued.  “Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley and Kennedy all had their caskets in here for a brief time, so it’s kind of like a funeral parlor too.  Dang, that’s creepy.”  No one laughed this time, as this comment got each of the boys thinking what it would be like seeing a casket on display in this room. 

Next, we went into the Green Room, which is most often used as a small parlor for hosting guests and holding private conversations.  Then we entered the Blue Room, which is an oval shaped room in the center of the White House, and has often been the traditional place for presidents to formally receive guests.  We followed this by going into the Red Room, which is another small parlor that has also been a favorite place for many presidents and first ladies.  The final room we visited was the State Dining Room, where elaborate state dinners are held.  That room can accommodate well over one hundred diner guests. 

“Wow, look at the size of this place,” Brandon uttered, in awe.  “Can you imagine having so many people over for dinner at one time?”

“It’s bigger than the high school cafeteria,” Jay observed. 

“I just hope they serve better food here,” Danny added, while taking a shot at the meals offered at his school. 

During our visit, we saw numerous priceless paintings, splendid collections of antique furniture and exquisite chandeliers.   When we were ready to leave, we exited the building from the north portico lobby, and the boys were excitedly telling me their reactions to everything they’d just seen.  They were so wrapped up with this discussion that none of them were watching where he was going, but it was Jay who stumbled and nearly plummeted down the outside stairway. 

Fortunately, he was near me at the time, and I reflexively reacted when I saw him start to fall.  My parental instincts were still quick enough to grab a hold of his arm and prevent him from tumbling down the steep stairway.  That little piece of luck most likely kept him from getting injured, possibly severely, and maybe even ending our vacation.  Once the impact of what had nearly happened sank in to my brain, I considered making Jay hold my hand for the rest of the trip, for safety’s sake.  However, I didn’t do it, because I didn’t want to embarrass him further.  The boys, however, weren’t nearly as considerate and teased him mercilessly about his near disaster, but all in a fun way. 

“Jay, have a nice trip?” Ricky asked him. 

“Hey, no diving in the shallow end of the pool,” Brandon teased.

“Jay, did you trip over first base again?” Danny mocked, since Jay had done that more than once during the baseball season.

I would have stopped this, but Jay was playing right along with them, comically giving us instant replays of his awkward stumble. 

After getting safely down that set of steps, we decided to grab a quick lunch, before moving on to our next destination.  As we were eating, I thought I’d give the boys some background information about it. 

“Fellas, we’re going to the Capitol Building next, so here’s a little information for you.”

“Oh, no, not again,” Ricky groaned.  “Are we going to have to go through this for every place we visit?”

“Not every place,” I responded.  “Just the major ones.”  Ricky made a face and rolled his eyes back in his head. 

“Construction began in 1793, the year after the White House was started, but it wasn’t completed until 1826.” 

“Why did it take so long?” Brandon asked.  “That’s thirty-three years to finish one building.” 

“Yes, things took longer then, because they didn’t have the machinery that construction crews would use now, plus everything was handcrafted.  Besides, you forget the War of 1812 came in the middle of that time, so that probably slowed things down a bit, especially after the British burned the White House.”

“Oh, yeah.  Kind of forgot about that,” Brandon mumbled. 

“Anyway, Congress actually started meeting in the unfinished structure in November of 1800, so they did get to use it before 1826.”

“That’s good,” Jay added.  I’d hate to think they had to wait all that time before they could do anything with it.”

“That’s true,” I agreed, “but continuing with the information, an extension and new dome were added to the building later, with work finishing on it in 1868.”

“So they were working on it during the Civil War?” Danny asked. 

“Actually, I think work on it stopped during the Civil War, but they finished it after the war ended,” I replied.  I stopped there, feeling that was enough information, until we actually got there.  We finished up our meal and then walked to the Capitol, which was another structure the boys were vaguely familiar with.  They had seen many images of the exterior before coming here, since it’s been used as the backdrop for numerous television shows and a variety of movies.  Yet, once again, it was even more impressive when you get to see it for yourself.

Eagerly, we made our way to the Capital Rotunda, which is the circular room in the center of the building, beneath the Capital dome.  The Rotunda has many large paintings on display, but the boys quickly picked out their favorite. 

“Wow, I like this one,” Jay remarked, while looking at the ‘Embarkation of the Pilgrims.’  “I remember seeing a picture of this in my history book, when we learned about the Pilgrims landing at Plymouth Rock.  It sure is a lot bigger and a lot better looking when you see it for real.”  I was still looking at the painting when someone else spoke up. 

“Nah, this one over here is better,” Brandon countered, after he spotted the painting, ‘Declaration of Independence.’  “This one shows everyone signing the document that set America free.”  Who could argue with that? 

“Well, I think this one is best,” Ricky argued, while pointing at another painting, ‘Discovering the Mississippi.’ “That guy (meaning the explorer De Soto) was out there finding all these new things and meeting with the Indians.” 

“Native Americans, Ricky.” I corrected.

“Yeah, whatever, but that would have been exciting,” he added. 

Danny had remained quiet throughout this whole discussion, so the boys started asking him his choice, figuring he would side with one of them.  “Which do you think is best?” they each wanted to know.

“To be honest, I like the painting of ‘General George Washington Resigning His Commission’ the best” he answered, referring to the event that happened at Annapolis in 1783.  “That showed one of our country’s greatest generals right after he led the American army in winning the nation’s freedom and just before he became the very first president.”  That was pretty profound reasoning and I admired his stance.   

The boys tried to get me to break the ‘tie’ for them, but instead, I merely guided them to the National Statuary Hall, which contains a collection of 97 statues.  The statues have been donated by the various states, with two coming from each state, except for Nevada, New Mexico and North Dakota.  Those states are still eligible to donate one more statue to the collection.  The boys seemed to think I would know each person represented there, but not all of them are readily familiar or recognizable to the average person. 

“Wow, Uncle Josh,” Jay began.  “I thought you knew everything.  How come you don’t know this stuff?” 

“I may know more than the average person,” I assured him, “but that’s far from knowing everything.   Some of these statues are of pretty obscure people.  At least they’re obscure outside of the state that donated it.”

One thing the boys did notice as we went through the hall was that out of the 97 statues, only six were of famous women.  “Guys, that isn’t necessarily sexist,” I told them, “it merely reflects the times they lived in.  Until the early part of the twentieth century, women were not able to play a significant role in the government, because society had them relegated to being mothers, housewives and a few other limited professions.” 

“I guess it sucked to be them then,” Ricky shot back, sarcastically. 

“Yes, I’m sure it did,” I agreed, “especially for any woman who was ahead of her times and looking to make some sort of an impact on the world she lived in.”  They all agreed with my comment and we moved on.   

The boys were still talking excitedly about many of the things we saw there, as we made our way out of the building.  I was thrilled they had been so impressed by what we’d done so far, so from there, I led them to Ford’s Theater. 

“What’s this place?” Danny asked, while staring at the non-descript exterior of the building.  From the outside, it is just an old brick building with five arches on the lower level, where the doors are located. 

“This is the building where Lincoln was assassinated,” I announced. 

“Cool,” Jay responded.  “Do we get to see where he was sitting and the gun he was shot with?” 

“I suspect you’ll be able to see both,” I agreed, to his great delight. 

Indeed, we did get to see the interior of the theater and the State box, where Lincoln was watching the play ‘Our American Cousin’ when he was shot.  After that, we moved to the basement to tour the Lincoln Museum.  It contained many items from Lincoln’s life, as well as items pertaining to his assassin and the other conspirators who helped plan this infamous deed, and included the clothing Lincoln was wearing on the night he was killed.  We also saw the hunting knife Booth carried and the .44-caliber Derringer he used to carry out his diabolical plan.  

“That’s a pretty small gun,” Jay remarked. 

“It may be small,” I replied, “but it proved to be very deadly.”  The boys just nodded and then went back to studying it for a few more minutes.

Our visit to Ford’s theater was interesting, but not as much as our previous stops, although the boys did find some of the assassination related displays intriguing.  When we finished up there, my gang decided it was time to eat again, so we looked for a place where we could chow down, as we drove back to the motel.  We ended up having dinner in another nice restaurant, one I noticed on the way from the motel earlier in the day, and decided to give a try.  As soon as we sat down, I moved certain items on the table, so Jay’s lanky arms wouldn’t tip them over.  He didn’t get upset when I did this, which I was glad to see.  In fact, he even thanked me for watching out for him, because he said he didn’t want to be embarrassed again, like he was the previous evening.  After enjoying a wonderful meal, we returned to our motel room. 

This time, I didn’t happen to learn what went on in the showers, but I can probably safely assume that something similar to the previous night had taken place.  All I know is, for some reason, all four boys spent the entire evening naked after their showers.  They lounged around and watched TV for a couple of hours like that, before going to bed in the buff.  Although he never knew it, it took every ounce of will power I possessed that night to control myself in bed.  Not only because I had been slightly aroused by viewing four handsome, naked young men strutting their stuff all evening, but also because Ricky’s little dick and butt kept brushing against me all night, as he tossed about on the mattress.  I thought about telling the boys they’d have to start wearing something around the room from that point on, but then decided I’d just shore up my self-restraint and not complain. 

To be continued...

Posted: 06/15/12