Hobby Shop
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Chapter 3
Danny and Steve enjoyed their retirement. Between building modules, taking in train shows, attending concerts and helping Roberts orient the new director of the museum on occasion, they stayed busy, but Danny felt discontent.
It came to a head one evening as they sat on the deck enjoying a glass of wine and the gentle breeze. Danny's cell phone chimed the opening bars of Casey Jones. "Harmon here," he answered.
"..."
"Yes, I have model trains. Why?"
"..."
"I see. In a half hour, then. We live in the guest house off the main driveway of the museum. I'll have the lights on so you will know where to go." With that, he switched off the phone and looked at Steve. "That was some lawyer wanting to know if I was the man with the trains. Curious, but he's coming by so I assume we'll soon know what it's all about."
"Humph! Who ever knows what a lawyer is up to." Steve snorted. "Just be careful, or he'll steal your gold fillings."
Danny grinned. "Don't have any fillings of any kind, so there. Remember, babe, with just a few more hours of study and passing the bar exam I could be one."
"Yeah! And then I'd have to find someone else to live with." Steve shook his head. "Couldn't stand the guilt by association myself."
"I'll give you guilt! Just wait until we're upstairs tonight."
"Promises, promises," Steve retorted, snickering. "I'll get another bottle of wine. Maybe a drink or two will loosen the embodiment of the law up a bit."
Danny answered the doorbell. When he opened the door, a treble voice shouted excitedly, "It's him; it's him!" A bundle of motion all but knocked Danny over as it jumped into his arms and clung like a limpet.
"What the ...." Danny stammered, looking at the well dressed man standing on the entryway tiles.
The man lowered his raised eyebrows. "Yes, I rather think you must be the man with the trains. I am Ken Prentice, Attorney. I gather you must be Mr. Daniel Harmon."
Danny took the extended hand and shook it. "Just who is this child I'm holding?"
"It's me, Mister. Don't you 'member? You gave me a train and everything."
Danny searched his memory for a moment before seeing the small child with his distraught mother. He hugged the child in return and said, "It's Michael, isn't it?"
He received another hug then Mike wriggled to be set down.
"Come in. It's such a nice evening we're on the deck. Will you join us in a glass of wine? I'll find a soda for Mike."
"I want a Pepsi," Mike said.
"Then Pepsi it'll be. Let's get you one and go join my dad."
Once they were settled, Mike with a large book of train pictures, the adults with their glasses of wine, the attorney began to explain the reason for his visit. "Gentlemen, if I may. I'm sorry to say that Mrs. Andrews, Michaels' mother, was killed in an unfortunate and rather bizarre accident last week. In going through her papers in an attempt to find surviving relatives with whom Michael might be placed, I found nothing except your card, Mr. Harmon. Michael immediately told me you were the man with the trains and he wanted to live with you." He cleared his throat. "Would you even consider such a move, sir?"
When he looked at Steve, Steve immediately read the longing in Danny's eyes and nodded.
Danny returned his gaze to the lawyer. "May we have a couple of days to consider this? Also, I must ask where Michael is staying in the meantime."
"I
certainly have no objection to your taking a bit of time to consider something
which will be a major change in your life. As for Michael, he's staying in an
excellent church run shelter for younger children, but he's not at all happy
there."
Steve nodded. "I see. Now I must ask if there will be any problems since Danny and I live together?"
"I assume you have separate bedrooms and that Michael will be so accommodated."
"Of course, Danny is my son, after all, and there are two more bedrooms here, so Michael may choose either."
"You're ... you're Mr. Harmon's father?" The lawyer stammered. "But you don’t look much older than he."
Steve smiled. "I met Danny years ago, when he was hardly older than Michael looks to be now. After he lived with me for a few years, I adopted him. He had no known family back then because he was unaware of his grandfather. When his grandfather became known to us, he accepted us both as family. Taking in Michael would almost be a repetition of my taking in Danny. I might add that our financial background is more than sufficient for us to support Michael in anything he might wish."
The attorney nodded. "That answers a number of questions I might have had. If you decide to take Michael, you will receive a visit from child services, but that is primarily to assure the adequacy of housing." He stood. "Please let me know your decision as soon as possible, Mr. Harmon. Thank you for a pleasant visit." He called to Mike. "We have to go now, Michael."
"No." Mike's voice was determined.
"Yes. Now come along and don't give me any trouble."
"I want to stay here."
Before the lawyer could respond, Danny bent down. "I'm sorry, buddy, but you do have to go with Mr. Prentice now. If all goes well, perhaps you can come back for a long visit in a few days. I'll take you up to the museum to see the trains again if you'll be a good boy and go with him now." Danny hugged Mike, getting a hug in return. "I know you don't like where you're living now, but it won't be for much longer." With a kiss to Mike's forehead, he gives him a gentle push towards the waiting lawyer.
Neither he nor Steve could miss the tears trickling silently down Mike's cheeks as he and the lawyer walked toward the waiting car.
"God, he looks as if he found heaven and then had it snatched from his grasp," Steve said.
Danny wiped his own eyes as he replied, "Poor tyke. Well?"
"Well what?"
"Do I adopt him and we raise him together as our son, or not?"
"Need you ask? I saw how much he meant to you and how much you meant to him. I'm amazed at how with just a few hours with you, you managed to imprint so strongly on each other."
"Apparently Mike has never known a father, so any male that showed him some attention would be a likely candidate. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."
"Not surprising. First thing tomorrow call Prentice. As soon as possible, I want us to go to the shelter together to bring Mike home."
Danny pulled Steve into a tight hug. "I love you so much, dad. I think having a kid in the house will give us a new lease on life."
Danny's money and social prominence worked wonders. Two days after their decision, Steve and Danny watched Mike jump up and down when told he was coming to live with them. "I get to see trains?"
Danny hugged him. "Yes, my darling son, we'll go see the trains as soon as we get home and get you settled in."
Within a few days, Mike settled in with a minimum of fuss and acted as though he had always lived with Steve and Danny.
The lawyer Mike's mother had used settled the estate rapidly. He handed the proceeds from a large insurance policy to Danny to invest for the child's benefit.
The money was immediately placed in a trust account, invested at high interest. Mike would want for nothing on his own.
Discovering that Mike loved Disney movies, Danny had the forty-eight inch plasma flat screen TV moved from his former bedroom in the mansion to the living room of the cottage. Whenever Mike appeared sad or unhappy, he liked nothing better than cuddling between Danny and Steve, watching a movie and munching on a big bowl of buttered popcorn. On these occasions, Mike drank Pepsi while Danny and Steve drank a beer. One or the other always wound up taking the sleeping boy to his bed and tucking him in.
Danny enrolled Mike in an academically rated Lutheran academy where, in small classes with personal attention, Mike bloomed both academically and socially.
Steve was surprised at how quickly Mike bonded with Danny and began calling him Daddy, while referring to Steve as Pop-pop. On reflection, he thought it was inevitable as Danny spent much of his time letting the child run one of the trains on his modular layout while he ran another. Steve frequently joined them in the fun.
After Mike had his evening bath, he would cuddle up with Danny who would read bedtime stories to him. It was seldom that Mike was not asleep before Danny was even half way through the story. Either Steve or more often Danny would carry Mike to bed. Both of them would tuck him in with a soft kiss.
Thanksgiving was upon them without their being aware until Roberts told Danny that he and Lang had planned the dinner and would serve them. Danny immediately said that he would accept their kindness only if Roberts and Lang joined them at the table. "You and Lang are part of our family, Roberts. If you and Lang would, Steve and I would like to have you both to join us as family members should."
Roberts smiled. "We will be honoured, Sir."
Desert was finished, the adults relaxing over a cup of coffee, when Roberts said, "I presume you will wish to have the traditional tree in the entry court, Sir. As the house is now open to the public, I would suggest we have all of the decorating done no later than the tenth. That will give the public time to visit and view the decorations without crowding."
"Good thinking, Roberts. I guess time has slipped up on me, and I certainly want to make this a good Christmas for Mike. You will be contacting our usual supplier for trees?"
"Yes, Sir. He has notified me that he has a fine tree reserved for us."
"Fourteen feet, I suppose?"
"A bit larger, Sir. I believe he said it would top sixteen feet."
"That will be a beauty, I'm sure. Now, I don't believe we will need one for the family room unless you and Lang wish to have your personal tree there, however Steve and I will want at least an eight foot for our tree. Will you see to this when you call the grower about delivering the big tree?"
"Of course, Sir." Roberts looked shame-faced. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I don't believe I am up to decorating such a large tree with just Lang's help. Neither of us feels safe on a ladder."
"How stupid of me, Roberts. Of course not. Call the firm we use to maintain the grounds. I'm certain they will welcome some extra income since there's little to do out of doors in winter. You will, of course, supervise so that the tree will look as beautiful as usual."
"Quite, Sir."
In the early afternoon of the first day of December, Steve, Danny, and Mike watched the long flatbed truck back up the drive to the front of the mansion and stop. Two burley men climbed down from the cab and began to unlash the ropes holding a bulky canvas covered shape on the bed.
Before the canvas could be removed, a truck with six large men from the gardening service pulled up. Roberts stood ready to open the great double entry doors. A heavy metal stand had already been put into place by the museum's maintenance crew with the aid of an electric forklift, now being used to lift the top portion of the massive tree so a wheeled dolly could be strapped into place. The forklift then moved to the bottom of the tree where the massive trunk was tied into position, then began the slow procession up the temporary ramp and into the entry court.
The tree completely in and the doors closed against the cold, the driver of the forklift moved to the side of the trunk and lifted it, then moved the tree until the end of the trunk was squarely over the stand. Maintenance had removed a small panel in the fascia of the balcony where the dual stairways met. One of the men pulled a cable from an electric hoist and attached it to the trunk of the tree near the top. From long experience, Roberts took the control box in his hand and pressed a button. A motor whirred and the tree began to rise slowly. The men in the entry moved to direct the trunk into the opening in the stand. A cheer arose as the tree at last stood straight. Hidden cables held it to the concealed steel framework of the balcony for security.
Danny had to hold Mike firmly to keep him from getting into the water a maintenance man was putting into the stand with a hose from the nearby restroom. "Okay, Punkin, let's go and let the men work. We'll come back tomorrow evening and see it with the lights."
When Mike came in from school the next afternoon, he quietly slipped through the side door into the mansion and carefully opened the door at the rear of the hall. His mouth dropped open in wonder, for the tree blazed with light as museum staff hung ornaments under Roberts' watchful eye. When he spied Mike, he beckoned him over. Handing the child a box of ornaments, he pointed to a space in the back of the tree. "I think that spot looks bare, don't you. Master Michael? Why don't you hang these ornaments where they're needed. Be careful, though."
"Oh, I will, I promise." A thrilled young man hung each of the glistening ornaments carefully, then passed the empty box to Roberts.
"Thank you, Master Michael, you did a fine job. The tree looks very nice. If you go home now, I think you will find some hot chocolate and cookies waiting."
Over the next few days, workmen swarmed around the mansion hanging fir wreaths at every window, a massive garland of mixed greenery surrounded the huge carved doors and leaded side-lights of the main entry. Two large firs on either side of the walk to the house hung heavy with lights. Electric candles shone from every window.
Within, pots of poinsettias lined the side of each stairway. Amaryllis and boughs of green made arrangements of heroic proportions on tables. Garlands and swags of greenery filled with colourful fruits graced the mantels in the reception rooms. A smaller, but beautifully decorated tree in the family room (now used as a classroom on occasion) had a large G scale Christmas train running around the base. The figures on the cars it pulled were in constant motion. Mike chortled at the sight. "You never showed me this one, Pop-pop," he said to Steve.
"It's new. I think Roberts may have gotten it to amuse the children who come to see the house with their parents."
"I like it, too, but I think the big tree in the hall is the prettiest of all."
Steve ruffled Mike's hair. "And you help decorate it, I hear."
Mike nodded. "Mr. Roberts showed me where to hang the balls. He's real nice, Pop-pop."
"Yes, he is. We're real lucky to have him and Mr. Lang looking out for us."
Each day when he returned home from school, Mike stood for a short time in the entry court admiring the huge Fraser Fir. On this afternoon, he saw a boy about his size ease from the door leading into the back hall and tip-toe to the tree. He stood for a moment looking at it, then tentatively reached out and pulled a brightly glistening Santa Claus ornament from it.
Mike was about to speak when Roberts' voice said quietly, "What's this, then?" He grabbed the collar of the thin jacket the boy was wearing.
The startled boy dropped the ornament which, fortunately, landed on a mound of white cotton protruding from the slit in the ornate tree skirt. "Please, p.p.p.please, Sir. I didn't mean ..."
Mike slipped around the tree to stand next to the boy. "Why did you take the ornament from the tree?"
"I ... I ... it's so pretty," he bent and picked it up, handing it to Mike, who returned it to the tree. "I wish my little brother could see this tree, 'cause we ain't got but a little teeny one and it don't but three or four lights that work and no pretties like this on it. I wanted him to have one pretty to look at and there's so many here, I didn't think anybody would miss just one. Please, don't call the cops, Mister."
"Please don't, Roberts." Mike added.
"Very well, Master Michael, if you wish, but know I disapprove."
"Thank you. Do you think you can find a small box that will hold this ornament?"
Roberts vanished through the door. The boy clasped Mike's arm. "I don't know why he does what you want, but thanks a lot. I gotta go."
"No. Wait a minute. How come you don't have much Christmas?"
"My daddy works at a garden center, so he gets laid off in winter. My little brother's sick, so momma had to quit her job and stay home with him. We ain't got any money and daddy done told us Santa weren't gonna come this year. We was all crying 'bout that, but it don't make no never mind."
"What's your name?"
"Billy Adams."
"I'm glad to meet you, Billy Adams," a deep voice said.
"Pop-pop!" Mike exclaimed. "This is my Pop-pop," Mike told Billy.
"Your box, Master Michael." Roberts held out a small cube shaped white box from the stock in the proposed gift shop.
"Thank you, Mister Roberts."
Mike took the lid off the box and pushed the tissue paper aside. He took the ornament from the tree and put it carefully inside the box, then closed it, and held it out to Billy. "I hope your brother likes this. Maybe he can come see the tree, too."
Billy took the box in one hand while he wiped his nose on the other sleeve of his thin jacket. A tear trickled down his cheek as he hugged Mike with his free arm. "I gotta go now, it's a long way to the Downs," he said, naming a poor district on the far side of the small city.
Mike looked up at Steve "Pop-pop?"
"Yes, Mike, we'll take him home. Come along, Billy. Mike and I will drive you home. It's getting much colder and you aren't dressed for it. Mike, you all look out the window until I pull up in front."
No one spoke on the drive until Billy pointed out a small shabby but neat house. "That's it. Thanks for bringing me home, Sir." He touched Mike on the arm. "Thank you a whole bunch fer the pretty. It's gonna be all the Christmas he gifts."
"Don't worry, Mike. I know what you're thinking and I'll find out something about them when we get home. You've got a good heart, you know?"
The next afternoon, Steve sat reading a report in his office. He had already rung for Roberts.
"You wished to see me, Sir?"
"Come in and shut the door." When Roberts was seated, Steve continued. "I tried not to interfere in the way you administered the museum, Roberts, for you did a superb job, but I do have a question that you can answer better than the new administrator. Would there be an advantage and/or cost saving for flowers year-round if we had a gardener on staff who could operate the greenhouse effectively?"
"I had wondered myself, Sir, especially after seeing the invoice for our Christmas and other holiday decorations. I imagine it will be difficult to find a good greenhouse man these days, what with kids apparently running all the landscape services other than the large garden centers."
"I think I have a man who can do the job. He works yards when the weather permits, so he's unemployed just now. The family is in desperate straits with unpaid rent, utilities about to be cut off, and a sick child who needs treatment they can't afford."
"He would be willing to work to have something for his family, then?" Roberts said.
"Yes. I will talk with Danny when he comes in. If he agrees, we may ask you to have one of the regular gardeners orient him if we decide to put him on the payroll."
"A wise move, I believe, Sir. You won't be going through the new administrator, then?"
"No. I'm not trying to usurp his authority, but he has much yet to learn about our operation while you know it intimately." Steve smiled. "You may be retired, Roberts, but you're indispensable."
"Hardly, Sir, but thank you."
Adams spent the week before Christmas cleaning the old greenhouse of debris. Replacing broken panes of glass, rebuilding rotting benches, and setting things in order. Danny was delighted when he and Steve checked the progress one evening.
With Roberts as ex-officio director of the museum, Danny passed to him the pleasure of handing out bonuses to each of the permanent staff members. Few missed seeing the tears that trickled down Adams cheeks when Roberts handed him an envelope containing a Christmas card and a hundred dollar bill.
Christmas Eve day, Steve and Danny were busy making the rounds and covering the many arrears the Adams family had accumulated. On their way to midnight High Lutheran Mass, they stopped at a house in the Downs and left a huge wicker laundry basket filled with food stuffs and a box filled with clothing and toys. Beside the front door of the house a five foot fir hung thick with lights and glittering ornaments awaited being taken in.
"This is what Christmas really is, isn't it?" Asked Mike as they continued on to church.
When he entered middle school where a choice of athletics was offered Mike chose soccer and swimming to Danny's surprise.
Steve and Danny never missed a game or swim meet, always cheering Mike on. They were soon popular with the other team members for the pizza and soda parties they threw after each game – win or lose. More than one team member looked at Mike enviously and whispered, "Man, you're lucky. I wish my old man was like your dad and grandfather."
"Eat your heart out, buddy," was always Mike's reply.
School out for the summer, Mike having made superior grades in advanced placement classes, he and Danny played soccer on the manicured lawn of the museum. Even at his young age, Mike was able to play well against Danny.
"Again, Dad, " he called, kicking the ball towards Danny. Danny retrieved the ball, giving it a mighty kick. "Get this one, smart guy!" He yelled.
The ball sailed over the fence and slowed on the slight upgrade to the street. Without looking, Mike ran into the street after it. A screech of brakes and tires on the pavement; a thud; silence.
Danny stared in disbelief for a moment before running into the street screaming, "Mike! Mike." He cradled the limp body against him, his tears flowing.
The driver of the pickup shuffled slowly over to them, and after looking at Mike's motionless figure, sank to the pavement, tears flowing, saying over and over, "I didn't see him until he was right in front of me. Oh, God! I'm so sorry; I'm so sorry."
By now Steve, having heard Danny's cries, was kneeling by Danny. "The ambulance is on the way, love. He'll be okay, you'll see."
In less than ten minutes which seemed years to Steve, the paramedics gently lifted Mike to the gurney and placed him in the ambulance. Danny climbed in behind the paramedics. One tried to bar his way. "I'm sorry, sir, but you aren't allowed to ride with us."
"The hell you say! That's my son and I'm damn well not leaving him. Now get going."
"But ..."
"Move it or I'll buy your damned ambulance service and fire the lot of you. Don't think I can't do it, either. Now go!"
The ambulance began to move, lights flashing and siren wailing.
Remaining behind to talk with the police and try to comfort the distraught driver of the pickup. Once Steve explained that the man who had hit Mike was not at fault, the police drove the man home after Steve assured him that his truck would be safe in the museum parking lot.
Mike had been rushed into surgery on arrival, Steve having thought to call the company doctor to meet them. He found Danny in the small surgical waiting room, all but incoherent in his anguish. It was nearly a half hour before the doctor walked over the two distraught men. "Mr. Harmon, I won't lie to you, it's bad. I've got a call in to the best pediatric orthopedic surgeon available."
"What?" Danny demanded, grasping the doctor's white jacket lapels.
"It's his right leg. It's badly crushed and the bone is in splinters. Frankly I see no way it can be saved. Even if it could, it would be useless. I believe Dr. Nicholson will concur. Now," he looked directly into Danny's eyes, "you have the worst decision of your life. If possible, do we leave him with a worthless leg, or do we amputate so that he can get a prosthesis and enjoy an active life? He's lucky in one regard, that is the amputation will be below the knee."
"We'll wait for Dr. Nicholson's evaluation before deciding," Steve replied for a sobbing Danny.
"Very well. Try to relax. It will be another half hour or so before he gets here and has a chance to examine your son."
Steve managed to get Danny to sip at a cup of coffee. When the surgeon entered the small waiting room, Danny jumped up. "How is Mike?"
"He has a few abrasions which will heal in a few days and a slight concussion from his head hitting the pavement. His leg is the worst of his injuries. I assume Dr. Bradley has explained to you the alternatives, have you come to a decision?"
Steve could feel Danny freeze in his arms. "We've decided to let you take his leg," he answered for Danny.
"Wise decision. With a good prosthesis, which I know you can afford, there is no reason why he shouldn't have a full and active life." He leaned closer to Steve. "This is unethical of me, but I'll designate my prescription for the prosthesis to a young man whose specialty is fitting young people. I like his work and he's popular with his clients." He straightened up, "I must get back. They should have Mike fully prepped by now. I can't tell you how long it will take, because I'm using a new technique. In any event, your son won't be conscious until tomorrow morning. Why don't you go home and try to get some rest?"
"Go home, hell!" Danny snapped. "I'm not leaving my son. Dad and I will be right here until we know how things went, then we'll be in Mike's room with him."
"Absolutely," Steve added. "A private room, too. With a bed for us to use, because we're not leaving him alone."
Steve sat on the sofa his arms cradling a still softly crying Danny who was leaning against his chest. 'You know,' Steve thought to himself, 'here's a guy who, not even out of college, took control of a major corporation and never turned a hair. He openly kicked out over half the upper management who were stealing the place blind and barely flinched, replacing them with solid trustworthy employees of some years who more than deserved the promotions he gave them. Now Worthington Industries hums with efficiency. And when faced with an attempted hostile takeover before he was thirty, he went after the firm that tried and took them over instead.' Steve shook his head slightly and stroked Danny's silken hair. 'But let a child we've taken in get hurt, and he comes completely unglued. I guess that tells me what's really important to him." He nodded introspectively. 'To me, too.'
Their family doctor came out and handed Steve a small envelope containing two small tablets. "I've had two beds placed in the room where Mike will be when he's out of recovery. Dr. Nicholson is taking his time to be sure Mike can be fitted with the most comfortable prosthesis possible. In fact, he has the prosthetist advising him. When MIke is fully conscious he will be able to see two legs. That lessens the mental shock considerably. Now take Danny and come with me, I want the two of you to each take a pill and get as much sleep as possible so you will be fully capable of helping Mike when he awakens."
Between them, they walked Danny to the room. Danny roused enough to take the sleeping pill Steve forced on him, then was asleep before Steve had him undressed to his underwear and tucked in the bed. Quickly, Steve followed suit and tossed little before the pill took effect.
"Why are you in my bed, Dad?" A drowsy Mike asked as the gurney on which he lay was wheeled into the room.
Steve was immediately awake and jumped out of his bed to help a groggy Danny.
"Your daddy is not fully awake yet, Mike, honey. I'll ring for the nurse to come change the bed for you."
"No need, sir," the orderly said as Steve reached for the call button, "she's getting linen now.
With years of experience, it took her only a couple of minutes to have the bed ready. When she flipped back the sheet covering Mike and Danny saw the temporary prosthesis, he grabbed Steve and began to cry once again. "It's all my fault," he whimpered, "it's all my fault."
"Be quiet, Danny, you'll upset Mike and that's the last thing he needs right now." Steve spoke sternly enough to shock Danny into silence.
The nurse helped the orderly lift Mike into the bed and tucked the sheet in around him. "There you are, young man. Just call me if you want anything."
"How do you feel, son?" Steve asked.
"Sleepy. Why am I here?"
"Don't you remember?"
Mike shook his head.
"He's not likely to remember for a few days." A voice said behind Steve. "It's the minor concussion."
Steve turned to see Doctor Nicholson. "It all went better than I had expected. After two or three days, I want to get him up to walk on the prosthesis. That will keep his muscle tone up, help shape his stump, and make the transition to a regular prosthesis a simple matter."
"Won't that hurt?" Danny asked.
"Yes, but the pain will lessen quickly. Movement will maintain blood circulation in his stump and promote healing also. Now, if you have no further questions, I must see my other patients."
There was a quiet rap at the door. Steve opened it to see Roberts and Lang, each holding a large picnic basket.
"Sir, knowing hospital food first hand, I took it upon myself to help Lang fix breakfast for you and Mr. Harmon. There is enough for Master Michael also, in case he is able to eat a regular diet this soon after surgery."
"You're a lifesaver, Roberts. Come in and set the baskets on the bed over there and put our plates on the bed tables. You brought coffee, I hope."
"Indeed, sir."
"Excellent. Perhaps it will get Danny to functioning. That sleeping pill was
strong."
Kept in insulated containers, the food was still piping hot. Steve fixed a plate for Danny with a stern admonishment to eat all of it and drink the coffee, too. Mike awoke and spoke to Roberts and Lang, then asked Steve for a glass of the fresh squeezed orange juice, three pancakes, and a glass of milk. Steve raised his bed as much as he dared, not wanting to cause Mike any pain, then poured real maple syrup over the pancakes while Mike drank his orange juice.
Roberts and Lang were rewarded by seeing more food disappear than they had anticipated. By now, Danny was functional and generous in his appreciation to the two semi-retired employees.
"We shall return at noon with your lunches, Sir," they said to Danny as they packed the remains of the meal in the baskets.
"Please don't go to all that trouble for us, Roberts, Lang," Steve said.
"There's nothing else we can do to help you at this time, Sir. Lang and I are delighted to be able to make your stay here more comfortable."
"I want a hamburger for lunch," Mike called.
"I shall check with your nurse, Master Michael. If she approves, then a hamburger it will be." Lang smiled. "I think perhaps a very special one this time. Shall I prepare one for you as well, Mr. Steve?"
"Please, Lang, and Danny as well. We can all eat together."
Not long after Roberts and Lang had taken their leave, there was a tap at the door. Steve opened it to see a middle-aged man and a small boy. The child clutched a large bouquet of mixed flowers. "These are for Mike," the boy said.
"Come in," Steve invited.
"Hi, Billy," Mike called, remembering the child from the previous Christmas.
"Hi, Mike. Daddy and I brung you these. I hope you like flowers." He held out the bouquet.
Steve took the flowers. "I'll put these in water."
"Thank you, Billy. They are beautiful. Did you help your daddy grow them?"
Billy nodded. "Nunh-huh. And I got a little garden of my own. These," he pointed to a few lily blooms, "come from my garden."
"They're the prettiest of all, Billy, Thank you for thinking of me. My thanks to you, too, Mr. Adams."
"It ain't nothin', Mr. Harmon. You was so good to us we just wanted you to know we was thinkin' on you."
"It is very kind of you, Mr. Adams, you, too, Billy." Steve told them.
"We'll be gettin' along now. Hope you is better soon, Mr. Harmon."
A few moments before noon, Roberts tapped on the door to Mike's room and he and Lang entered, opening the large picnic hamper, and arranging the prepared dishes on the bed table. When they ran out of room, they spread the rest on the bedside stand.
Lang picked up a large burger. "What do you wish on it, Master Michael?" He asked.
"Some lettuce, tomato, and a slice of onion, please."
After Michael had raised the head of the bed so that he was sitting almost vertical, Lang set a heavy plastic plate on his lap and set a glass of slightly icy milk on the corner of the bed table. "There you are, Sir. Is there anything else I can get for you?"
Mike smiled. "No thank you. This is perfect."
"Very good, Sir." Lang looks at Danny and Steve. "You may fix your own, Gentlemen. I have coffee prepared."
As he chewed his burger, a look of bliss spread over Michael's face. As soon as he swallowed, he asked, "This is the best burger I ever had. What kind is it?"
"Very special, as I promised, Master Michael. It's ostrich." Lang replied.
Mike looked shocked. "Isn't that a big bird that runs fast?"
"I believe you are correct, Sir. Never-the-less, the dark red meat is superior to the best beef and far better for you as it has no cholesterol."
By now, Steve and Danny have taken bites of their burgers also. "Excellent, Lang. Does it come in other forms from hamburger?"
"Yes, sir. Cutlets, steaks, fillets, roasts, and sausages."
"I trust you have laid in a supply of each type."
"We were awaiting your approval, Sir. A bit more expensive than the best beef, but worth it, I believe. I shall place an order at once," Roberts responded.
A week later, Mike was back home and able to move about reasonably well with the aid of crutches. But since on his doctor's advice to take it easy he spent much of the time seated, he asked Danny if he could try putting together a building kit to go on one of the modules Danny was building.
Danny chose a relatively easy kit of a small country store. He cleared a place on the table Steve usually used and set the kit, tools he knew Mike would need, and various glues within easy reach. He also lowered the flex-arm lamp so Mike could reach it easily for adjustment.
"Here you go, buddy. Be sure to read the instruction sheet before you start. It helps if you identify each part and if you set them out in the order in which you will need them you'll be less likely to make a mistake. Take your time and you'll have a great looking building when you've finished. I'll show you how I make the interiors look real and how I put lights in them." Danny was delighted, for this was the first time Mike had shown interest in building a model of his own.
"I put your table here because a lot of the time I'll be sitting here working on a building of my own, so ask if you need help. It won't bother me." Danny had just received the new release of a limited edition model from the maker of craftsman kits, a model he knew would take him several months to complete to his satisfaction. Much of that time would arise from his slow cautious approach to constructing a kit that cost nearly three hundred dollars.
Though Mike chafed at his forced inactivity, he bonded firmly with Danny as they worked on their kits. Steve often stopped to admire and offer praise to Mike for his careful work on the model he was building. More than once he said, "Danny, you'd best watch out, Mike is about to become as good a modeler as you." Danny always grinned, while Mike puffed with pride.
After six months the doctor handed a prescription for a permanent prosthesis to Danny. With the admonition to use the same prosthetist who had crafted the temporary one Mike had by now reduced to a barely usable state. On their first visit to the shop, the owner, who was nearing sixty, told Danny sharply that he would be serving Mike.
Danny flatly refused and demanded to see the young man the doctor had recommended. The proprietor grumbled loudly, but finally called his associate to the front.
Church grinned as he read the prescription. "So Doc still likes my work."
Danny looked around then said softly, "He had a few less than flattering comments about your boss."
"I'm not surprised. He doesn't want to learn anything new, just do things like he was taught. I'll catch hell when he sees the pros I'm going to make for Mike. I sure wish I could afford to go out on my own, but the equipment I'd need just to open my door for business is so damned expensive I can't do it."
"Please be sure you give Mike your very best effort. We don't care what it costs."
"I try to give each one of my clients my best. I hate shoddy work and an amputee has enough to put up with to have to endure a poorly made prosthesis."
After a few weeks of therapy, Mike declared he was ready to join the soccer team for the spring semester of school. He tried out in a private session with the coach who could only shake his head in amazement. With the exception of one or two stumbles on uneven turf, Mike was virtually the equal of the team's star player.
"Remember when I used to come watch every game you played, Danny?" Steve asked as they sat in the bleachers watching Mike weave his way down the field, eluding the opposition. At the last moment, he passed the ball to a fellow team member who kicked it in for a goal just as the buzzer signaled the end of the game. Steve and Danny jumped to their feet yelling at the victory.
"Pop-pop, can you come get me?" Mike's plaintive voice came over the phone a few days later.
"What's wrong, Mike?"
"I busted my leg at practice, now I'm stranded."
Steve breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Mike holding the damaged leg. He helped Mike into his car, "You scared hell out of me. I thought you meant your good leg."
"Naa, but I hope he can fix it fast. I hate using crutches at school."
"Typical kid," the owner groused when he saw Steve helping Mike in, Mike holding the damaged leg. "Don't take care of nothin'. I suppose you want Chuck, well he's busy, so you'll have to leave it and come back tomorrow or next day."
"We'll wait until Chuck is free."
"Well he ain't gonna be free until after closin' time, so you may as well go on."
"Bull shit!" Steve snapped. "Tell him we're here, or I'll do it myself."
"This is it," Steve said to Mike. "Your dad and I will set Chuck up in his own shop with the best equipment available. Don't tell him, though. Let's make it a surprise."
"That'll be great, Pop-pop, cause he sure deserves it. He's a nice guy and this leg is almost like my real one."
A few minutes later, Chuck came into the waiting room pulling on his jacket. "Mike! What're you doing here?"
"Busted my leg at practice. Got a quick fix?"
"I doubt it, but come on back."
"Old fart should have told me you were waiting. I could have seen you when you came in."
"He said you were busy."
Chuck shook his head. "Now, what kind of practice?"
"Soccer," Mike replied.
"Damn, guy, why didn't you tell me you played soccer. I'd have made you a special leg for that. This one isn't rugged enough for sports, except golf."
Chuck unscrewed the broken bracket at the ankle and replaced it. "You're lucky I had a new bracket. It came in an order that got messed up, but I figured I would use it sometime, so I kept it." He jerked his head toward the front of the shop. "He would have had a fit if he knew I didn't return it." He held out the limb. "Here you go. Now try to be more careful until I can make you one that'll hold up with you playing soccer."
"Thanks, Chuck. You don't know how much Mike's father and I appreciate the way you treat Mike and give him the best you have to offer." Steve said.
Two weeks later, Chuck called Steve. "I have Mike's new heavy duty leg ready. When would you like to come in?"
"Are you married, Chuck?"
"No. Why?"
"Then after you see Mike, we would like you to have dinner with us. There is also something we wish to show you on our way home."
After Mike had been fitted and both he and Chuck were satisfied that the leg was properly aligned, they left the office, Chuck followed in his car. He was puzzled when they turned into the main street of the medical village across for the hospital and stopped before a vacant building whose windows and glass door were covered in brown paper.
"I wish I could have a shop here," Chuck said. “It's so close to the hospital and the doctors I sometimes need to see."
Danny took a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. "Come in, Chuck."
Chuck stared at the nicely decorated reception room with a small play area off to one side, a large toy chest overflowed.
"Come along." Steve said.
When they reached the workroom, Chuck was awe struck. "Oh, God, this is what I've dreamed of. Some of that equipment is so new l just read about it in last month's journal. Somebody's sure lucky to have all this to work with."
Danny and Steve smiled at Mike, then nodded. "You're the lucky guy, Chuck. This is your shop. All you need is to design the sign you want for out front."
"No way, Mike. Please don't tease me like this, it's cruel, cause I'd sell my soul to be able to afford a shop like this."
"Mike's not teasing you, Chuck. This is your shop." Danny held out the keys. "Your boss has pissed me off every time we've had an appointment so this is our way of saying thanks to you for being so great to Mike."
Chuck collapsed in a chair, tear streaming. "I can't believe you would be so generous. I mean this is beyond my wildest dreams. I don't know how, but I'll pay you back once I get my practice established."
"Just continue to conduct business and treat people the way you do now. I'll sit down with you after dinner and we'll discuss reasonable payments. Of course, none will be due before you're established. Now, let's go eat."
Mike soon adjusted to the sports leg and played as he had before the accident, though it was a long while before Danny stopped blaming himself for it. It ended when Mike cried, "Damn it, Dad, please stop blaming yourself for something that wasn't anyone's fault but mine. I know better than to run into a street without looking. So knock it off, already. It makes you feel bad and it pisses me off. It's done and you've done your best for me." Mike grinned and held out his prosthetic leg. "This thing is a damn good substitute. The main difference I see is that I'm a little slower swimming with just one leg to kick with, but I can still beat a lot of the guys. Chuck said he could make me a leg for swimming, but that's kind of stupid because the rules say I can't use it in meets."
Mike hugged Danny. "Get over it and let’s have some fun like before."
Time passed. It was a proud day for Steve and Danny as they sat looking towards the stage as the dean announced, "Jonathan Michael Andrews-Harmon, Doctor of Business Administration and Master of Sociology." Michael strode confidently across the stage to receive his hood and diplomas.
"I might add," the dean said as Mike walked back to his seat, "that Doctor Andrews-Harmon's dissertation was most unusual, being a complete historical study of a major industry. So complete, in fact, that Worthington Industries is having it printed as the official history of the firm."
"Now I know why Master Michael had me show him the files Mr. Worthington amassed over the years and asked me so many personal questions about him." Roberts whispered to Steve. "I certainly hope I didn't tell him anything that shouldn't be public knowledge."
"I doubt that, Roberts. You've always been the soul of discretion." Steve replied, then grinned. "I have a suspicion that he also grilled Lang since he served as chef as well as Worthington's chauffeur when you weren't available."
"I believe he did so, Sir." Roberts whispered back with a smile.
After the three of them spent a couple of weeks at the cabin to let Mike relax, they returned home. Danny looked over the quarterly reports of Worthington Industries, less than pleased at the results. He sensed a major portion of the blame could be laid at the door of the general manager.
Knowing that none of the executives of Worthington would make the connection between Danny and Mike if he used the name Andrews, Danny had Mike enter the Worthington Industries executive training program as Mike Andrews. He progressed through the program swiftly. As the program neared its end, one vice-president remarked to another that it was almost as if Andrews knew the company inside and out, even to bits of information regarded as senior executive privilege only.
Over dinner the evening after his graduation from the training program, Danny asked Mike, "Well, son, do you feel ready to assume a position of some authority at Worthington?"
Mike nodded and grinned. "Long as I can kick some ass."
"What!" Steve exclaimed.
"Look, in a couple of divisions there's plenty of research already done that would improve the products tremendously, but the managers sit on their asses and refuse to implement change because they say the company can import Chinese made crap cheaper. That's bullshit, Dad! What we can produce will be superior in every way, make the end product superior, and all with little increase in costs. I want their asses fired and sharp managers with some vision in their places. I already know the guys I'd put in charge, and they deserve the promotion."
Danny stared at Mike in surprise. "Damn, son, I hardly know what to say. You appear to be more aware of general operations than the company manager. I think I best take you with Steve and me to the board meeting next Wednesday. I have a feeling that your appearance may cause a bit of a stir." He grinned and looked at Steve. "Think it may shake things up enough to create a fortuitous vacancy or two among management?"
"Just might. I hope one of those will be the general manager."
Danny nodded. "I've not been that happy with his performance. Well son, I guess I've slacked off. I took over Worthington when I was a little younger than you are now and I kicked a lot of ass. Really made a difference in things. I guess it's your time to do the same." He looked at Steve. "I want you to propose Mike for General Manager at the meeting when I call for new business."
"Gladly! I have never trusted that little son of a bitch that's there now. He struts around like Napoleon, even looks like the bastard. I know for a fact that a lot of the division managers hate his guts. The bills he runs up on the company membership account at the country club are out of line also."
"Remind me to look into his personnel file tomorrow. I want to see if he's talked the board into a golden parachute and for how much. He's not leaving Worthington with any extra money if I can help it, and I can."
"Isn't some of that written into his contract?"
Danny nodded. "But who said the account for those benefits has any money in it. I know it does, but as majority stockholder, I am still, in effect, the owner, so I can shift money between accounts as needed. That's a power I left myself as a precaution in case there was a repeat of the mess I walked into years ago."
"Damn! You're sneaky, Dad," Mike said admiringly.
"I had to learn the hard way and fast. In a corporate business the size of ours, the vultures are always circling, looking for easy pickin's. The only man inside I ever trusted was my godfather. I'm afraid you don't have that luxury, so it'll be you against all the rest. Steve and I will be here to advise and help you as best we can, but we've not been involved in day to day operations for some time now." Danny grinned. "Of course, Steve and I can always move in and take over if necessary, but we've served our time and we're enjoying our retirement. That doesn't mean we're deserting you, Son. We'd never do that." He hugged Mike tightly.
Wednesday evening there were literal screams of outrage and protest when Steve nominated Mike for the position of General Manager. Order was restored only when Steve phoned security and had two men posted just inside the door of the boardroom.
Taking advantage of the momentary lull, Danny gave his reasons for approving the motion. "There's no need for a vote of stock, because Steve and I hold forty-five percent and Michael has fifteen shares in his portfolio."
"This is the most underhanded move I've ever seen and making a kid general manger is beyond stupid. I quit!" The General Manager yelled.
"Excellent. Thank you," Danny retorted. "You may leave the premises as soon as you have gathered up your personal belongings from your office. Oh, yes, one of the guards outside will accompany you there, and then to the gates. You will surrender all of your keys to him as soon as you reach your office."
Danny glared at the remaining board members. "Any further business, Gentlemen? If not, then I declare this meeting closed. Steve, I want the minutes in the hands of all those authorized to receive them as soon as possible. Now, let's go home. You'll get your orientation tomorrow morning, Mike."
"I'd give a lot to see that little bastard's face when he sees his severance cheque," Steve said.
"It will be the standard one the hourly employees get," Danny said, then grinned. "I also added five hundred dollars to the amount with a notation that this was the likely value of the things he wasn't able to steal from his office."
Mike shook his head. "I sure hope I never piss you off, Dad. You're vicious."
"Vindictive is the word you are looking for, Son," Danny said with a grin. "When you go in tomorrow, I want you to begin orienting yourself. Visit all the plants and speak to as many people as possible. Drop by all the executives' offices and speak to them. If they don't respond to you, fire their asses. That should take the rest of the week. Next week, I want you to begin implementing the changes we have discussed. You get any real grief, I want to know about it, Okay?"
"Thanks, Dad."
Mike settled in quickly and began the changes. The results came quickly, resulting in savings and additional profits that created bonuses to those involved. Grumbles quickly turned into praise and willingness to accept further changes. A number of workers submitted ideas which were put into practice. They were given full credit, praise in the company newsletter, and bonuses, all unthinkable under the old manager.
Seeing Mike successful and secure in his new position, Steve and Danny began to travel. They spent several days in Hamburg studying the magnificent four million dollar HO scale layout. Both had enough German that communication with the designers and operators of the layout was possible, and they offered numerous suggestions for the 'American' portion of the layout just beginning construction. For their part, the Germans were fascinated by the pictures of Danny's and Steve's N-scale modules. Friendships quickly formed.
After they described Mike's system for making the automobiles move along the streets of the modules, they were given plans for the automated cars on the roads of the huge layout to take to Mike. Both Steve and Danny were fascinated when one of the cars was running faster than the others and a police car sped out, lights blinking, and pulled it over to the side of the road. Neither Steve nor Danny knew enough computer electronics to follow the schematics, but Mike would.
After several months of travel, they returned home. They reviewed company reports with Mike, making a few suggestions. When there was nothing more they moved up to the cabin, to read and enjoy each other.
To be continued...
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Posted: 11/30/07