The Castaway Hotel
Book 6

By: B W
(© 2012 by the author)

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Chapter 30
Ups and Downs. 

As the days of April began to pass and the weather grew warmer, it was time to take Cody back to the doctor for his next checkup.  I tried to approach each appointment with a certain amount of optimism, but there was always a nagging doubt at the back of my mind reminding me of the possibility that something might still go wrong. 

We had already been to the hospital, to have the lab work done, so now we were waiting to meet with the doctor, so we could be informed about the results.  As we sat there, I prayed harder than I ever had that the report would be good.  I did not want this left in the hands of fate.  As we waited in the reception area to be called, I tried to keep a smile on my face and maintain a positive attitude about everything.  I didn’t want to let Cody see I had doubts concerning his recovery, even minor ones.  It must have worked, because I don’t think he suspected a thing and stayed relaxed while we waited. 

Before long, our names were called and we were led to one of the examination rooms, where we would wait for the doctor to arrive.  He walked into the room a few minutes later, and immediately began to give Cody a routine check up.  He felt Cody’s glands, listened to his lungs and performed the other types of things a doctor generally does, and when he had finished, he looked at Cody and spoke.

“Cody, how do you feel today?” he inquired. 

“Good,” Cody responded, instantly.

“Any problems lately?” the oncologist pressed. 

“Not really.”  Cody’s responses were very short, but that didn’t seem to bother the doctor.

“Fine.  I didn’t notice anything in particular either,” the doctor stated, “but I am a little concerned.  The cells just aren’t multiplying as quickly as I’d like.”  He did have a mild worried expression on his face as he said this.

“Is this a problem?” I wanted to know.

“Not a problem, just a concern,” he emphasized.  “The cells are beginning to multiply, just not at the rate I was expecting.”  He didn’t look upset, so neither Cody nor I were panicking. 

“We’ll give it some more time, to see if the situation improves,” he continued, “and I suspect it will.”

“That’s good to hear,” I responded.  “Is there anything we should know?”

“No, we’ll just keep an eye on him, like we have been doing,” the oncologist told me, “and we’ll run some more tests in a month.  By then we should know how well this is taking.”

Cody and I thanked the doctor and left.  We were a little concerned, but not overly worried, and I continued to keep Cody upbeat about his situation.  I even made light of what few concerns he had, without lying to him or giving him a severely inaccurate impression of what he was facing.  I wanted to relieve some of the doubts he might have about his chances of pulling through, but I didn’t want him to believe there was absolutely nothing to worry about.  I knew this was a fine line I was walking, as I tried to maintain a balance for him, but after weighing our options against the possible effects they might have on Cody, I didn’t see that I had much of a choice. 

As I drove to school, I knew we had to continue on with our lives, at least the way they stood at this moment.  I dropped Cody off at his school and told him I’d see him later, and then I drove back to my office.  I had much to do there, but I was slightly preoccupied, as I thought about everything the doctor had said.  I analyzed it carefully, while trying to determine if there was any hidden meaning in what he had told us.  Finding none, I put this out of my mind and carried on with school business. 

Later that evening, everyone wanted to know how Cody had made out at his appointment, so we tried to explain everything as best we could.  I was very careful not to say anything that would cause the boys to worry or jump to conclusions about what might happen and very selective in the words I used to relay what the doctor had told us.  After nearly a half-hour of going over what we knew and answering questions, I decided it was time to switch topics. 

As deftly as I could, I moved on to discuss other things that were happening in our lives.  Although I mentioned Trey, Dion and Andrew’s successes, as well as Nick’s going to Brazil and Peter coming to stay with us, many of the topics I covered were much more mundane and lacked the potential impact of Cody’s condition. 

A short time after our meeting broke up, I noticed Cody and Graham slipping away again, so I assumed they felt a little celebration was in order.  I smiled as I watched them leave and then I went back to what I was doing.  It was only about ten minutes later when I heard a commotion on the second floor, with someone screaming and a lot of banging going on. 

I raced up the stairs, to see what was happening, and discovered the noise was coming from Cody and Graham’s room.  I flung open the door and burst into the room, only to discover Cody sitting on Graham’s back, facing Graham’s feet, pinning him to the bed.  Cody’s hand was filled with what I guessed was the back section of Graham’s underwear and both boys looked up as I entered.  I think they were shocked by my sudden appearance, but once they overcame their surprise, they began to question what I was doing there. 

“What’s the matter, Dad?” Graham asked, since he was unsure about why I had burst in on them.

“I thought I heard someone getting killed up here,” I answered, and they began to look a little sheepish.  It was then that I realized I had been mistaken about the seriousness of the situation.

“We’re sorry,” Cody told me.  “We didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset, but what the hell was going on up here?” I persisted. 

The two boys looked at each other, before one of them responded.  “I guess it’s mostly my fault,” Cody told me, looking down at Graham.

“Do you mind explaining?” I asked.

“Well, Graham has been treating me like I was going to break any second,” Cody continued, “so I just wanted to show him he was wrong.”

“And how did you think you were going to accomplish that, by killing him?” I joked.

“I wasn’t killing him, I was just giving him a wedgie,” Cody replied.  Now, I understood why there had been a section of Graham’s underwear extending from within his trousers and in Cody’s grasp.

“But what about the screaming?” I wondered, since I still wasn’t clear about what had taken place. 

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Graham responded, “but that was me.  I was just yelling at Cody, trying to get him to stop what he was doing.  He pulled my underwear so hard it not only went up my butt, but it was crushing my balls too.”

“Ah, I see, but what was all the banging?” I tried to clarify. 
 

“I guess that was me too,” Graham continued.  “When I tried to break free from his attack, I guess my arms and feet banged the wall a few times.”

“But it was me too,” Cody added, “because I was making the bed jump a little, as I bounced on him while pulling on his underpants.”

“You’re not mad at us, are you, Dad?” Graham wondered, aloud.

“No, I’m not angry.  I was just worried someone was getting hurt,” I added, while staring at the two of them.  They both looked extremely guilty at this point.

“We’re sorry,” Cody apologized, “and we won’t do it again.”

“That’s okay.  I really don’t mind you boys fooling around like this,” I assured them.  “I just wasn’t sure it was all in fun when I first heard it.”

“It was,” Graham told me, with a smile, “and thanks for worrying about us, Dad.”

“That’s okay.  I was young once too, even though that might be hard for you to imagine,” I quipped. 

“Why would that be hard for us to imagine?” Cody asked, puzzled.  I guess he didn’t catch my little joke. 

“Well, because it’s hard for someone your age to imagine someone my age being young once,” I told him.  “I mean, back when I was a kid, there were only thirteen colonies… I mean states.”

The boys looked at each other, then back at me, and then they began to grin.  “You aren’t THAT old, Dad,” Graham retorted, almost as if he was trying to convince me of this fact.

“Maybe not, but not that far off,” I teased.  “Maybe there were actually twenty some states when I was your age, then.”

Cody laughed the loudest now.  “Then you were born before the Civil War,” he concluded, impressing me with his quick calculations.

“Yep, and I met President Lincoln once too,” I countered, continuing to play the game with them.  Now both boys were laughing and joking with me, and Graham slowly slid out from beneath Cody.  He rearranged his underwear in the process, so they weren’t riding up his crack, but we continued our little game. 

Once we tired of joking around, I took the opportunity to leave them alone again.  I think Cody had made his point with Graham and I concluded they might have some other things they’d rather do with each other.  I closed the door behind me as I exited and quietly went downstairs.

Over the next few days, things slowly returned to normal and everyone began to focus on issues specifically affecting them.  However, that ended when a couple of other situations cropped up.  It wasn’t as if we didn’t have enough to worry about with Cody’s health issues, but neither of these new occurrences had anything to do with him. 

The first situation came to my attention late one weekday afternoon.  I was in my office working when my secretary came in to tell me I had a call from the local police department.  I picked up the phone quickly, figuring it involved the school district in some fashion.  Once I said hello, the voice on the other end filled me in about what I needed to know.

“Mr. Currie, this is Sgt. Nichols.  Are you the legal guardian of a young man named Vinnie Rydell-Shay?”  This question caught me totally off guard.

“Yes, I am,” I finally responded.  “Is he in some sort of trouble?”

“Not exactly, but he’s been involved in an accident.”  His voice was emotionless, but I could tell by his tone that the situation wasn’t minor.

“How serious was it?”  I wanted to know, but I might also have started to panic at this point.

“The boy was slightly banged up and bruised in the collision, but the vehicle he was driving has extensive damage.”  Again, he was just reporting the facts and was very dry and expressionless.

“What happened?” I asked, wishing to know more of the details.  “Was there another vehicle involved or did he run into something?”

“There was another vehicle involved,” he replied, “and that one was damaged extensively as well.”

“And was anyone injured in the other vehicle?” I pressed, and I was now really beginning to panic.

“The passengers in that vehicle only received minor injuries as well,” he reported.

“So what actually happened and was anyone at fault?”  I kept trying to drag information out of this officer, but he seemed reluctant to give me much at one time.

“We’re not exactly clear on the details surrounding the accident, even after interviewing those involved and a couple of witnesses,” he stated.  “We’ll have to continue investigating this, before we’ll be able to sort it out.”

“Can you just give me an idea about what happened, without pointing blame?”  I was getting irritated now and definitely wanted an idea of what took place.

“The 4-Runner the young man was driving hit the side of another SUV,” he began, while retaining his unemotional demeanor.  “The impact was forceful enough to tip the other vehicle over and severely damaged the front of the 4-Runner.”  At least he gave me some details this time, although I still wanted more.

“Will you give me an idea how this accident happened?” I pressed him.  I still wanted to learn the details surrounding how this had occurred. 

“There is some confusion as to whether the young man was anticipating a green light or running a red light,” he stated.  “It is also possible the other driver was running a red light, but the two vehicles collided in the middle of the highway.  The other vehicle was tipped on its side and clogged up a busy intersection.”

“Was anyone else in our car at the time?” I asked, since I didn’t know if any of the other boys had been with Vinnie at the time. 

“No, the driver was alone.”  I was now a little relieved and beginning to calm down.  I just had to figure out where Vinnie had been heading and what had actually transpired.

“And where is Vinnie now?” I asked. 

“He and the other driver are here at the police station, making their statements,” Sgt. Nichols reported.  “All the occupants received medical attention at the scene and both vehicles were towed away.”

“Okay, I’ll be right down to pick him up,” I informed him.  “Would you please tell Vinnie that?”

“Yes, sir, I will,” he confirmed.  “I shall see you shortly then.”

As I drove to the police station, I tried to envision what I was going to discover.  I understood Vinnie hadn’t been hurt badly, but the vehicle had, so this made me wonder if the authorities would be able to sort through the details and determine who was at fault, by the time I got there.  I pulled into a parking space on the street, in front of the police station, and got out of the Grand AM.  I walked inside and informed the officer working the desk as to who I was and why I was there.  Immediately, he paged someone to come and get me. 

Before long a young officer was escorting me to another area, where I discovered a shaken Vinnie.  As I gave him the once over, I could see he was none the worse for wear, but he did look very worried.  When he saw me enter, he grabbed his crutches and raced toward me.

”I’m sorry, Pop,” he whimpered, “but it really wasn’t my fault.”   I hugged him, to let him know everything was all right. 

“Why don’t you just tell me what happened then?” I urged, to let him get this off his chest. 

“I was coming up to the light and saw it was changing,” he began.  “I could see the green light turn yellow, for the cars going the other way, so I only slowed down, but didn’t stop.  That’s because I knew my light was going to turn green any second.  It WAS green when I started through the intersection, but suddenly this other car was in front of me and I hit it.  She must have run the red light.”

“Well, that hasn’t been determined yet,” I told him, to let him know I was going to wait and see what the police investigation turned up. 

“What?  Don’t you believe me?” he nearly shouted.  He seemed very upset at this point.

“Vinnie, I’m sure that is how you remember things, but I just want to see if the police come to the same conclusion,” I explained.  “I’m not saying you’re lying, but sometimes things happen so quickly that it skews the way we remember them.”  He still had a pout on his face as he listened to my response, but I think he realized he wasn’t going to change my mind.

At this point I began to talk to the officer investigating the accident, to see what his take on this was.  “So, do you have any idea of what actually happened out there?” I asked.

“I shouldn’t be telling you anything, so this will be strictly off the record,” he began, “but two of the witnesses claim the light had turned green before your son went through the intersection.  However, a third witness said he thought the light hadn’t turned yet, so it’s inconclusive.  Your son does have numbers on his side, but I’m not sure how much that will factor in, if this should go to court.”

“Do you think it WILL go to court?” I wanted to know now.

“Only if the insurance companies decide it’s necessary, but I doubt it,” he added. 

At that point, I thanked the officer for the information and then asked him if I could take Vinnie home.  He said I could, so we got ready to leave.  The officer did one other thing before we left though, and that was to inform Vinnie that his license would be suspended for six months.  This was an automatic suspension and was mandatory when a new driver was involved in a serious accident within a certain amount of time after getting his or her license.  Unfortunately for Vinnie, his accident fell under those guidelines. 

This pronouncement really upset Vinnie, but he forced himself not to say anything at this time.  I knew that would come later, and it did, in the car on the way home.

“That’s not fair,” Vinnie screamed.  “It wasn’t my fault.” 

“Vinnie, you’d be wise to learn that life ISN’T fair, and besides, there is no conclusive evidence this accident wasn’t your fault.”

“Then you don’t believe me?” he challenged, while looking at me incredulously.

“I didn’t say that, and this isn’t hinging on what any of us believes,” I countered.  “The law just isn’t interested in guilt in this case.  It’s only interested in how long a driver has had his license and how severe the accident was.  This wasn’t a fender bender.  Your car was totaled and the other vehicle has extensive damage too.  The only reason it wasn’t considered totaled was because it was hit in the side, so the front end and engine weren’t damaged severely.  Just accept this as a harsh lesson to learn and wait out the sixth months, until you get your license back.”

“This sucks.  It really sucks,” he spat back. 

“Yes, I’m sure that’s the way you see it,” I commiserated, “but when you get your license back, just drive a little more defensively.  Okay?”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” he snapped.  He had another sour look on his face as he asked this.

“What I mean is, you can’t just watch the lights to decide whether it is safe to enter an intersection,” I explained.  “A defensive driver would have glanced in both directions first, just to make sure no one else was doing something wrong, something that would endanger them too.”

He didn’t respond to this statement and stared out the window instead.  I wasn’t sure if he was acknowledging the point I had just made or if he was still concentrating on the perceived unfairness of the situation.  Regardless of his reason for not responding, I said nothing more and we drove the rest of the way home in silence.

When we arrived at the house, Vinnie told the other boys about what had happened and they were more eager to accept his view that the punishment was unjust.  I let them continue discussing this without adding my two cents, because I knew it wouldn’t do any good to try to debate with them.  Instead, I went on with my own business, while silently thanking God that no one had been seriously injured.

To be continued...

Posted: 11/09/12