Hobby Shop
By: Jess Mercer
(© 2008 by the author)

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

 

Chapter 6

                                                    

"Paediatric Associates, may I assist you?" An imperious female voice answered.

 

"Doctor Ellison-Harmon, please. You may inform him that it is Doctor Ellison-Harmon calling." Derik replied loftily. Not only did he detest the 'snobby bitch' as he called Erik's receptionist, but tone of her voice set his teeth on edge every time he heard it. Erik defended her, saying that she projected the image he and his partners wished for their practice, as well as being quite efficient in her duties.

 

"Doctor Ellison-Harmon is completing an appointment. I shall inform him of your call, should you choose to hold."

 

At least Bro has decent taste in background music, Derik thought as the soothing sounds of a string quartet came through the phone, but I'd kick his ass if he didn't.

 

A few seconds later a cultivated baritone voice filled the air. "You had to call?" Erik asked, wondering why Derik hadn't used their mental connection.

 

"Yeah. No way I could impress on you fully the other way. Besides, I'm at home. That's too far for reliability."

 

"Sounds serious."

 

"It is. Bro, I know adults aren't your specialty, but you always take care of family."

 

"So?"

 

"It's Pop-pop. When I got home and went to his study to ask him if he and  Pop and Dad had planned their trip to the cabin, he looked awfully pale to me. He's not moving too swiftly either."

 

"Hell, what do you expect? He's seventy-two now."

 

"Look, you quack, that isn't so old any more. Look at Roberts. Damn! He's over ninety and still going strong. You haven't been paying attention to us like you should."

 

"I'm busy."

 

"Busy, my ass. You've got five other pediatricians working for you. I know you limit your practice to young males in their teens rather than babies, but you can at least stop playing with their dicks long enough to enjoy being with the rest of us on weekends. When was the last time you did any work on a module or played a Sunday program with me? Do you even practice any more?"

 

"I can't even remember, Bro. I know I haven't played with you for quite a while and I miss it, but I do get a little practice in, most times late at night. It relaxes me if I've had a hard day."

 

"I'm surprised you even get that much accomplished. But damn it, you aren't the least bit busier than I am. I want you to come home early this evening and bring your bag with you. I'm not letting you rest until you've checked Pop-pop over. Got it? "

 

"Got it. Be sure you get Mike's butt home also, and ask Mark if he will fix something special for dinner. We'll have a family evening together like old times."

 

"Thanks, Bro. I love you. Oh, yeah, why haven't you fired that snotty bitch yet?" Derik said with a chuckle as he put the phone handset back in its cradle. His antipathy towards Erik's receptionist had become a running joke between the brothers.

 

'Wonder if any of Erik's social climbing clients know how much time he puts into helping the kids at the shelter,' he thought proudly, for the two of them had taken on the childrens' shelter as a project after hearing, at a special church dinner, of the needs recounted by a supervisor from Lutheran Family Services.

 

Try as they might, no one in the family had ever been able to suss out Roberts' sources of information, for little escaped his notice. Within thirty minutes of Derik's call to Erik, Roberts left his office in the museum for the kitchen of the guest house. He immediately informed Mark that the dinner would be a variety of seafood dishes and sent him to the one market in town whose seafood was always fresh, rather than frozen.

 

At their insistence, Roberts joined the family at the table while Mark served the butterflied shrimp stuffed with crab meat as appetizers. These were followed by cups of Outer Banks style clam chowder*, then a small green salad. While Mark cleared, Roberts arose and went into the kitchen only to return carrying a tray holding two of the entrées. He proudly set one in front of Steve, the other in front of Danny, then resumed his place, while Mark served the rest.

 

"I see your fine hand in this, Roberts," Steve said. "It's been a long while since we've had such a treat."

 

"With everyone so busy, it is a special occasion when the entire Harmon family sits down together. I am honoured to sit at the same table with all of you."

 

"It is no more than your due, Roberts, for all of the love and caring you have expended on this family with no thought beyond our pleasure and satisfaction," Danny said. "Now let's dig in before the scallops and lobster cool off."

 

Refreshed at the end of the meal by a tart lemon sherbet, they pushed away from the table replete.

 

Sitting before the fire in the den, the family awaited the ritual that Roberts took great pleasure in performing after a fine dinner. Gently, he decanted into Wedgwood crystal snifters a portion of rare cognac, heating each snifter gently over a warmer before handing the first glass to Steve, the second to Danny. They had just been served gourmet coffee by Mark.

 

"This is superb, Roberts. Which did you choose this evening?" Danny remarked after inhaling the intoxicating bouquet then taking a tiny sip.

 

Roberts offered his enchanting slight smile as he looked at Danny. "Only the Hennessy Paradis would suffice for an evening such as this, Sir."

 

Danny and Steve savored each sip, knowing the expense of the brandy. Mike and the twins drank a little more freely.

 

When he had finished his coffee and drained the last drops of cognac from the snifter, Steve slowly levered himself up. "I'm a little tired, guys. Think I'll go on up."

 

"I'll go with you, Pop-pop," Erik said quickly.

 

"No need, son. I'm okay," Steve managed to say before swaying a  little. Mike was instantly by his side, steadying Steve while Erik grabbed his bag and waved for Danny to remain where he was. The three men slowly  climbed the stairs.

 

With an increasing sense of foreboding, Danny gave Derik a stricken look. "You think there's something really wrong with Steve, don't you?"

 

"Yeah, I do, Dad. But when I saw him swaying a minute ago, I was really glad I got on Erik's ass about leaving work early and bringing his bag with him."

 

Tears bean to trickle down Danny's face. "I ... I don't know how I will ever live if anything happens to Dad, Derik. He rescued me from my old man, made sure I got an education, and has advised me ever since. It's due to Steve that Worthington is what it is now." Danny dropped his head once more. "I pray he'll be okay."

 

Derik and Danny sat in silence, staring into the flames of the fire.

 

"Guys?" Erik's quavery voice broke into their thoughts.

 

"What?" Danny said quickly.

 

"I've called an ambulance. Mike is with Pop-pop, but I think you both should go up and see Steve. I'm afraid ... "

 

"Oh, God, no!" Danny cried, then took the steps two at a time, Derik right behind him.

 

Lying in the large bed and looking even more pale than he had before, Steve looked at his family gather around his bed. "You bunch are worse than buzzards on a telephone wire. There's not a damn thing wrong with me; I just got a bit much brandy is all. I swear, Erik may be a good doctor, but he'd look at a horse that just won a race and tell him he was about to die. Guess maybe he thinks being gloomy will convince people they're really sick and increase his business."

 

"Now damn it, Pop-pop," Erik began. "If you weren't so stubborn it would be  a lot easier for me to treat you, but you still think of me as a kid, so I'm turning you over to Doctor Adams. Anyway, it's about time somebody in this family used that magnificent suite of rooms Worthington endowed at the hospital for family use."

 

"Yeah. Hasn't been a soul in them since I was in there," Mike said. "And they weren't fixed up so nice back then."

 

"The food is near gourmet now," Erik added. "You relax and enjoy. I'll keep checking on you when I make rounds."

 

All the while Danny had a sinking feeling, knowing that Adams was a prominent cardiologist.

 

Over Steve's protests that he was okay, the attendants, accompanied by Erik, placed the gurney in the ambulance and took off, siren warbling.

Danny, Mike, Derik, and Roberts piled into the Lexus LX SUV and raced off after the ambulance.

 

Coffee in hand, they paced the carpet of the luxurious cardiac division waiting room. In no more than a half hour, Erik and another man came out of the treatment area with grave looks. Erik grabbed Danny and hugged him.

 

"I think you guys," Erik stopped to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks, "should come with me to say our goodbyes."

 

Quietly, they entered the beautifully appointed room. Steve lay in the bed, a canula delivering oxygen to his nose, a monitor beeping quietly, slowly.

He looked at them and a tiny smile tugged at his lips. "Guess I'm not gonna get to sample that food Erik says is so good. But no way it could match up with tonight's dinner. It was a dinner to remember, Roberts, and I  thank you for all the wonderful things you've done for all of us."

 

The elderly man turned away from Steve's view. His shoulders shaking. Danny put his arm around the beloved man's shoulders in an attempt to comfort him.

 

"Mike, you'll never know how much joy you've brought to Danny and me. Our blood or not, you are truly our son. I love you, son." At Steve's feeble gesture, Mike leaned over to receive a kiss on his cheek.

 

"Guys," Steve looked at the twins, first at Erik hovering at his bedside, then at Derik standing as close as possible, "Danny and I hated the events that brought you into our lives, but you have made us all the richer for being here. You know, you almost got me as interested in trains as you and Mike and Danny are. It's a good diversion, so keep up your interest. I know you both think you're too busy, especially you, Erik, but you need to relax. Your music will be a great help. Know I love you guys."

 

Erik, noticing that Steve was having increasing trouble breathing, raised the head of the bed to a  more upright position.

 

"That's better," Steve whispered and motioned to them. Each bent to receive a kiss on the cheek.

 

"Danny, my love, my life," Steve gasped. Danny was quickly by his side, grasping his hand, and looking into the face of the man he considered his real father, tears streaming.

 

Steve feebly raised his hand in an attempt to wipe away Danny's tears. "Don't cry, my son. Our life together has been one of joy and filled with good things overcoming the bad. I know Erik can be a liar. He's told me I'll be okay, but I know better. My time is almost up. Remember me with happy thoughts of our good times together, our wonderful kids, and if you want to make some memorial after I'm gone, make it something that will help kids like you and Mike were. You four kids are the most wonderful things God has given me." He paused for a deep fluttering breath. "I love you so much, my son. Our time together has been worth more than any amount of money, even back when you first came into my life and things were tight at times. Now give me your blessing and let me go in peace."

 

Danny bent to kiss Steve's cheek. Steve tried to return the kiss, but as his lips touched Danny's cheek he exhaled for the last time. His sons and friend stood in stunned silence, until Doctor Adams quietly asked them to leave so preparations could be made. 

 

Because both Danny and Steve had made all of their last arrangements some months before at the behest of their pastor, Steve's loved ones had nothing to do beyond attending the funeral. But despite Steve's wishes for a small quiet church funeral, those in attendance overflowed the large sanctuary. The service was a high Mass, beautifully chanted by the pastor and the cantor, while the organist surpassed himself in furnishing gloriously jubilant music, playing loudly enough to rattle the windows. This brought a contented inward smile to Danny as he recalled Steve's joy on hearing the instrument played in such a manner. He made a mental note to ask the funeral director to triple the usual fee paid the organist for playing a special service.

 

After the private interment in the huge Worthington family mausoleum, the grieving family returned to the cottage to console one another.

 

A few weeks after Steve's passing, the group sat around the dinner table, coffee in hand, and speaking of things in general when Mike brought up the subject. "Okay, guys, we've all been thinking, so let's make a decision. We all know that Pop-pop wanted us to do something in his name to help others. So who has any bright ideas?"

 

They all looked at one another in silence until Erik spoke diffidently. "I had something come up at the shelter while I was examining a thirteen year-old that gave me an idea. Our father had made plans with Dad for our care when he passed on, so we were never at the mercy of social services like you Dad, or you Uncle Danny. Anyway, the kid I was examining had lost a leg when he was younger, but the other kids at the shelter were picking on him unmercifully because he's sensitive about his loss. While I was checking him over, I thought of what Pop-pop said one time about about helping kids with special needs."

 

He paused and looked at the others. Their attention was riveted on him. "Dad, I know Pop-pop left everything to you. I also know you don't need a penny of it. What I'm getting at is we have those acres of land down the our road about a half mile or so which you didn't give to the museum, Uncle Danny. Why don't we build a nice big house of some kind, hire an adult couple to live in and run the place, and make it a home for kids like the one I was talking about. I know damn well social services doesn't have any idea how to meet his needs and I'm just afraid he will take off some time soon if he goes back to the shelter, and then who knows?"

 

There was silence again, then Danny looked at Erik. "Son, there's nothing that could be a more fitting memorial to Steve. Thank you. But how do we start?"

 

"At last I can get that architect at the plant off his lazy butt and put him to doing something constructive. I never quite understood why Worthington would have an architect on staff anyway," Derik added.

 

Danny smiled. "I had completely forgotten about him. My grandfather hired him to advise on plant expansion. By all means, put him to work. I'll have the company lawyers search out the necessary regulations and all that. Mike, you have good people skills, how about you making some overtures to the head of childrens services and get their thoughts. I'd rather they be cooperative than antagonistic. Don't sweat the legal aspects, I have a good friend who is a judge in Family Court."

 

"Sure thing, Dad."

 

"Once you have them cooperating, we can determine just how large the facility should be. I want it to be a home, not another damned orphanage. These kids need love more than shelter or food so we must be prepared to give them all three. Erik, I'm assuming you'll be the facility physician."

 

"Absolutely, Dad. But I was wondering if you'd let me ... . No, I guess it's kind of silly."

 

"What, son?"

 

"The boy I was telling you all about. Like I said, rather than endure more teasing, I believe he's going to pull a runner soon as I release him from the hospital tomorrow. I wouldn't mind adopting him and having him live here with all of us."

 

"If that's what you want, go for it," Danny said quickly.

 

"Yeah, Bro. You and me need a son. You'll share won't you?"

 

Erik got up and hugged Derik. "Like always, Bro."

 

"I guess history does repeat itself," Mike muttered. "I never regretted for an instant taking you guys as my sons. I hope you will find the same joy with your son as I've had with you guys."

 

"Thanks, Dad, or do we call you Pop now since we'll be dad to our son?"

 

"Pop? Yeah, I like the sound of that. Then Danny will have to be Pop-pop."

 

"Yes! It'll be a pleasant reminder of Steve, for me," Danny replied.

 

"Let's discuss the help we'll need, Derik. I'll line them up and let you interview them."

 

"I've got a better idea. Let Roberts do the interviews. He'll be pleased that we're including him. He's been feeling useless since his arthritis has gotten bad."

 

"Fine. We'll need house parents, a cook, cleaning service, and I want a part-time physical therapist if we have more than one handicapped kid."

 

"We'll use our own cleaning service. If they need help, I'll transfer one or two from the service that does the plant, A few have complained about working at night.  You line up a therapist, and I'll put the plant human resources department to work finding the rest to send to Roberts. Since you said the kid gets  a lot of teasing at school, too, why don't I line up a tutor or two so our kids can be home schooled if necessary."

 

"Great idea. Maybe a new grad from the university. It's not that far away. You might check there for a physical therapist, too."

 

With his typical efficiency, Derik put things into motion as soon as he reach his office the next morning.

 

At the same time, Erik was on the phone with the director of childrens services demanding custody of his patient, something the director was delighted to grant on the basis of the Harmon name and reputation.

 

With a pleased look, Erik called his receptionist and informed her that he would be unavailable for the remainder of the day. He then exited his office by the rear entrance and drove to the hospital for rounds.

 

"Well, young man," Erik said, placing his stethoscope back around his neck, "I believe you have fully recovered from your little escapade so I am releasing you from this den of horrors."

 

"Can't I stay here? It's way better than that hell hole you're sending me back to. You can make me go, but you can bet I ain't staying no longer than it takes to get away from that dump."

 

Erik sat on the edge of the bed. "Hold off. If you were offered a home with a family, would you take advantage of the offer?"

 

"You gotta be kidding. Like who's gonna take in a cripple old as me?"

 

"My brother and I needed a home when we were younger than you. We didn't have it rough, because our father loved us and fixed things up so we could live with a good friend of his. Derik and I swore to our Dad that we would help someone else when we got old enough and found someone in much the same situation that we were in.

 

"There are my brother and I, our Dad, and his Dad, our Uncle Danny. We want you to live with us as our son and share our lives. As for school, you will be attending St. Augustine Academy where Derik and I went. It's a good school and they don't permit teasing or discrimination of any sort. But if push comes to shove, we can always get you a private tutor and you can be home schooled. What do you say?

 

"Oh, yeah. The food's a hell of a lot better because we have our own chef." Erik added.

 

"You gotta be kidding me." The boy replied angrily.

 

"No way, young Rick. It's time for you to make up your mind. Our house or the shelter?"

 

"What choice? I done told you I ain't goin' back to that fuckin' so-called shelter."

 

"Very well, then. And cut out the cussing. We don't like to hear it and it will get you detention at St. Augustine's." Erik rummaged through the wardrobe drawers and pulled out the boy's worn clothing, handing it him.

 

"Get dressed. I'll be back in after I've signed you out and we'll get some lunch. After that, I think we need to do a bit of shopping for you."

 

After a hearty lunch at a small Italian restaurant that Erik favored, they went to a large department store where Erik let Rick pick out casual clothing he liked. Several times Erik made him put back items that he deemed unsuitable, though Rick protested the items were fashionable. With shoes fitted and bought, including highly polished black loafers which replaced the black oxfords, a recent concession to the academy's dress code, they made a final stop at the shop supplying the academy's uniforms. All of the shirts, the blazer, and the speedo carried an small embroidered emblem of St. Augustine and therefore of the Academy – an open book with a quill pen laying diagonally across it.

 

"No way you're getting' me in no shirt and tie!" Rick protested.

 

"You damn well will. It's the academy's dress uniform – these light gray slacks, pale gray shirt, dark blue stripe tie, and Navy blazer. For classes and daily wear, you wear the gray slacks or shorts and the blue shirt or polo pullover."

 

"I ain't wearing no shorts, never!"

 

"I think that can be arranged except for sports. They do offer participation in the city's youth amputee soccer program as an alternative to their PE program. They also offer swimming. The school has a beautiful natatorium."

 

"What's that?"

 

"Indoor swimming pool." Erik held up the speedo. "This is your swim suit."

 

"You gotta be kidding! That skimpy little thing won't hide nothing."

 

"Ashamed of what you've got? Maybe I should give you a physical when we get home. I will have to, anyway, because the school requires every student to have one yearly."

 

"I ain't ashamed of nothin' 'cept this." He thrust his BK stump forward.

 

"Oh, that. Nothing to be ashamed of. It's part of you as you are. Other guys will be curious, but if you tell them straight out about it, they'll accept you as normal."

 

"Yeah, and tease me like they always done."

 

"Not at the Academy. Now, if you have everything, let's go home and get you settled in."

 

"Sheeeit!" Rick exclaimed, the mansion coming into view as Erik approached the turn off to the cottage. "You ain't tellin' me you live there?"

 

"No, but my Dad did. Now it's a museum of architecture. We all live in the  guest house that served the mansion." He stopped in his usual parking place, one that allowed fast exit should he be called out for an emergency.

"Get your stuff and let's get in."

 

"Ain't you gonna help a poor cripple?" Rick whined in jest.

 

"No, but I will help a young man who obviously has more than he can carry all at once."

 

"Big of ya."

 

Erik showed Rick to the room he was to use and helped him put away his belongings. Rick helped very little, too absorbed in looking around at the LCD television screen, music system, and lap-top computer on the desk, printer off to one side. "This ain't all for me? I mean you gonna be pissed if I turn on the computer?"

 

"Everything in this room is for your use. I trust you will be considerate of the rest of us living here. Now get washed up, it's almost time for diner. I'll introduce you to my brother and dad and Pop while we're having our drinks."

 

"Can I have a beer?"

 

"Certainly not. You may have a Virgin Mary if you wish."

 

"What's that?"

 

"It's a Bloody Mary without the vodka."

 

Erik intuitively felt the 'wall' going up around Rick as they went down the stairs. The boy was distant when introduced, though the others essayed a special warmth in their greetings. He said little as he sipped at his drink and nibbled at the hors d'oeuvre.

 

"Dinner, Sir." Mark spoke from the doorway into the dining room.

 

Dinner was lasagna, salad with Italian dressing, garlic bread; dessert a delightful gelato. Rick smiled as Erik nodded at Mark as he paused before pouring a glass of wine for Rick, who then ate as though he were starved.

 

With the change to daylight time, enough daylight remained for them to drive down to the site of the new houses for the boys to see the layout.

Foundations and cellars for two houses are already in place.

 

Erik liked the arrangement of the houses around the area of lawn sloping gently down to the large pond.

 

"What are these gonna be for?" Rick asked.

 

"Homes for boys like you," Erik replied, "so they won't have to endure teasing because they're different. Do you know of any who want to go someplace where they won't be considered different?"

 

"Yeah, but he ain't likely to wanna give up his freedom."

 

"Will you at least talk to him if you like us after you're settled in?"

 

"Maybe, but I ain't tellin' you where he is."

 

"That is up to you, Rick, but we'd never betray a confidence."

 

The next morning, Erik dragged Rick to the prosthetics lab to be fitted for a leg. The young prosthetist soon had so Rick enthused over the prospect of moving about on two legs, that Rick endured the measurements and molding processes without complaint.

 

Rick was shaking his head as he settled into the seat of the BMW.

 

"What's wrong?" Erik asked.

 

"I just can't believe a big rich doctor like you is being so good to a poor crippled kid. So what're you gonna ask in return? I'm warning you now, I ain't queer so don't try nothin'."

 

"You may not think just now that my family and I are all that altruistic, but we certainly have no sexual interest in you. Our interest is in seeing you have the opportunity to make a future for yourself. Study hard, behave properly, and we will be more than repaid. You may choose any profession you wish, for we'll not pressure you; however, we are all willing to listen and offer advice if you wish. I hope that puts your mind at ease, for we will be asking you to help us find other young men who might benefit from what we have to offer."

 

"If you ain't lying, maybe I will." 

 

Within two weeks, Derik called a family meeting. He proudly laid out several architectural renderings and floor plans for them to see.

 

Two pots of coffee and three hours later they had yet to agree on any of the presented plans.

 

"Damn it!" Mike burst out. "Didn't you tell that idiot we wanted homes for the kids, not dormitories?"

 

"Yeah," Derik replied, "but don't get your knickers in a twist just yet. I've got one more to show you guys. He did this when I bet him no one would go for the plans we've looked at." Derik unfolded a floor plan and rendering and laid it on the table.

 

"That's it!" Mike yelled as soon as he looked at the rendering of a colonial cottage then the floor plan, showing a master suite for the house parent on the first floor and three en suite bedrooms plus a large study area cum living room for the boys on the second. The combined living - dining area on the first floor was more than ample for indoor activities. The kitchen was small but adequate as was the laundry room.

 

"Agreed," Danny added. "We can start with two and add more as needed. We can put four cottages around a square the guys can play on. Each cottage will house no more than three boys, so it'll be a real home for them."

 

"I just had a thought," Mike said. "Each cottage has a small kitchen, but if we hire an assistant chef to help Mark, they could do all the cooking in our kitchen or the big kitchen in the mansion, if ours isn't big enough, and deliver the meals in containers to each house. We have that utility van we bought for Mark to use anyway. Once the meals are at each house, the house parent could reheat and serve the meals when they want. No need for separate cooks in each house and it'll cut waste and be a way of insuring all the kids get healthy meals."

 

"Good thinking, Dad." Erik said. "I also want one thing more. There should be a residential type lift in each house since there's a possibility that some kid will be handicapped enough to need it and the boys' rooms are all on the second level."

 

"Good thinking. Let's go with it, guys." Mike said, already working out plans in his facile mind.  

 

Within three weeks, the two houses were framed in and bricklaying begun. Added to the gateposts of the mansion was another bronze plaque – The Steven Harmon Residence for Exceptional Students.

 

"Hey! That makes me feel special," Rick commented when it was pointed out to him.

 

"As it was intended to. If you're happy being here, won't you find your friend and talk with him?"

 

"If I can go into town Saturday. You keep your promises, so I'll keep mine. Thanks, Dad Mike."

 

But it was only a couple of days later that they found their first candidate.

"Bloody Hell!" Erik heard as he passed the kitchen door. As Roberts seldom swore Erik knew something had the poor man stressed to the limit.

 

"May I help you with something, Roberts?" He asked.

 

"Oh, Sir, I'm dreadfully sorry. I wasn't aware that anyone was within hearing."

 

"What's troubling you?"

 

"I'm in the middle of making a roux and I simply cannot leave it until it is cooked and blended with the liquor of the dish I'm preparing. I would have sworn that I had several pounds of shrimp in the fridge, but I can't seem to locate them, and they're a staple of the paella I plan to serve tonight."

 

Erik had the grace to look ashamed. "I'm sorry, Roberts, we should have told you. The other evening none of us could decide what we wanted for dinner and none of us wanted to go out, so we boiled the shrimp, made some cocktail sauce, a green salad, and had a great dinner. I'll be happy to run in to the seafood market and get ten pounds or so. Will that be enough?"

 

"Oh, quite. I'm most grateful, Sir. If you could go immediately, I can continue the preparation without interruption."

 

"On my way." Erik swept into the entrance hall, picking up his keys from the rack by the door.

 

"Where you going?" Rick asked.

 

"Got to run to the market for Roberts."

 

"Can I go?"

 

"Be quick, then."

 

As they walked from the parking lot toward the market, Rick pointed out a thin boy of no more than sixteen walking toward a group of carts. "Man, look at that! Look at the way he's prancing along. What a pussy."

 

"I'm ashamed of you. If you look more closely, you will see that he's walking the best way he can. He obviously has a mild congenital malformation of the hips and possibly suffers from severe arthritic pain as well. I'm really surprised to see him trying to push that line of carts back to the market. I'm certain it's very difficult for him, and I admire him for trying. Now let's get those shrimp for Roberts."

 

"Ah, Mr. Harmon, I have your shrimp all ready. Mr. Roberts called in his order just a few minutes ago." He handed the wrapped parcel to Erik.

 

Now that he had his new leg, Rick happily carried the parcel of shrimp to the checkout register. Erik paid and they exited the market only to have Erik stop short as they walked past a recess in the wall on their way to the car. A man, obviously one of the store's managers, was shaking the boy they had seen recovering the shopping carts.

 

"You have to be the most worthless excuse for help I've ever had in this store. You're fired and you needn't bother asking for a reference if anybody else is dumb enough to hire you."

 

"Please, Sir, I gotta have this job. I know I can't move as fast or push as many carts as the other guys, but I could do real good at bagging, if you'd let me." Sobbing, the boy sank to the pavement. "What am I gonna do? I ain't got nowhere to go."

 

"Ha! That's not my problem, crybaby." The man snorted. "Come by the office and get your pay, what there is of it, and get out of here." He drew back his foot. Thinking the man was about to kick the pitiful figure before him, Erik strode over and grabbed him by the arm.

 

"There's no need for that. In fact, there's no need for you to treat anyone the way you have treated this young man. You may rest assured that you will no longer have my patronage. Now go tend to your business for what little is going to be left of it after I finish with you."

 

"Yeah? You got no way to threaten me," the man snarled and stalked away.

 

"Can Doc and I help?" Rick asked, squatting beside the boy.

 

"Ain't nobody can help me. I wish I was dead."

 

"Why?"

 

The boy raised a tear streaked face to look at Rick. "I ain't got no place to stay, no money to eat on, and I hurt all the time. How come I won't be better off dead?"

 

"Will you trust us enough to come with us and let us try to help you find a better life?" Erik asked.

 

"Yeah. I did and I'm sure glad. Doc has a great place and I got more than I ever dreamed of having. I'm back in school, too. It's fun. Come on, buddy. I'm Rick, and he's Doc Erik."

 

"My name's Tom Morrisey. You ain't kiddin' 'bout wantin' me to go home with you?"

 

"No way, Tom." Rick said.

 

"What I got to do? Sex stuff and things like that?"

 

"Absolutely not!" Erik declared.

 

"That's the truth. I thought the same thing, but they like to help guys down on their luck like you and me. All they want is for us to get good grades in school and make some kind of good life later on."

 

"I guess I'll go, but I ain't promising I'll stay."

 

"You are perfectly free to leave any time you wish, but we hope you will stay with us and finish your education at least. Now we have to go. Roberts may leave us without any dinner if I don't get these shrimp to him."

 

With the shrimp in Roberts' care, Erik went into the study and picked up the phone, placing a call before going into the den for the usual before  dinner cocktail. He was smiling grimly when he placed the handset back in its cradle. So I've no way to threaten that bastard? He thought. Just wait and see.

 

After a few days, Tom understood that his fears were groundless and he and Rick became pals. On Saturday, Erik took he and Rick into town and dropped Rick off where he indicated and drove on to the mall. While Rick searched out his friend, Erik and Tom would be shopping to fill Tom's needs.

 

Their shopping complete, Erik and Tom returned to the small park to pick up Rick and, hopefully his friend. The boys were not in sight, so Erik parked his BMW leaving the radio blasting Bone, Thugs, and Harmony. Erik grimaced and thought to himself, the last name in the group is best pronounced 'Har-moan-y'. To his relief, Rick appeared coming towards them followed by an emaciated teen whose one hand clutched feebly at Rick's belt.

 

"Hey, Tom, Doctor Erik. This is Jerry."

 

"Welcome to our little family, Jerry," Erik said.

 

"Yeah. Come with us, you'll really like what Doc Erik and his family give us. Ain't no pressure to do nothin' you don't wanna, 'cept go to school."

 

Rick opened the rear door and all but pushed Jerry into the vehicle, then followed.

 

Jerry remained silent during the drive, despite attempts by the others to draw him out. When the mansion came into view, he yelled, "Wow! I can't wait to see where we go from here!"

 

*Outer Banks Clam Chowder

 

4 cups chopped fresh clams

5 cups diced potatoes

¼ lb bacon

1 large onion chopped

1 qt. Water

salt & pepper to taste

 

Scrub clams with a stiff brush

then steam clams open in a small

amount of water in a tightly covered

pot, reserving the broth. Discard any

unopened clams. Fry bacon until

crisp. Drain bacon and add onion,

sauté until clear.

 

Put water in pot, add potatoes, onion,

seasonings, crumbled bacon, and clam

juice. Boil until potatoes are fork tender.

Add clams and return to boil.

 

Remove from heat and serve.

 

To be continued ...

 Feedback always welcome:     

Posted: 03/14/08