Companions All
by:
Will B
(Copyright
2007 by the Author)
Advisor: E Walk
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are
allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
As I write this, members of a Fundamentalist Church are going on trial because they have been going to the funerals of military personnel killed in Iraq, shouting and carrying posters saying that the death of a military man is God’s way of punishing the United States because of the growing acceptance of homosexuality. The father of one such military man killed is suing the church.
In the meantime a volunteer group has appeared. Made up of motorcyclists and others, this group will attend military funerals and form a ring around the church and/or cemetery to keep the hate mongers away from the mourners. This group calls itself the Patriot Guard.
I don’t know (or care) if any members of that caring group will ever read this story, but I dedicate this chapter to all the members of the Patriot Guard.
The companions have put on a program at the Levindale Retirement Home. For the first time two ladies have joined the group: Sarah Fishbein and Peggy Johnson, and they were a hit! Jake and Sarah have a secret. Will we learn it is in this chapter? I guess you’ll just have to read the chapter and find out.
Lunches and Surprises.
It’s a beautiful September day in Baltimore and this evening The Companions will be singing the National Anthem at the Memorial Stadium. The group has to be there at 6:30, so everyone is having a late lunch (or early supper), but oddly enough, they are at different houses—not all together as one might expect.
Al and Steve have invited two new friends, Gene Rogers and Roy Cassidy to come for lunch and then go to the ball game. Roy was a co-worker of Al’s and Gene was a co-worker of Steve’s. They had been lonely since coming to Baltimore, and had made half-hearted attempts to make moves on Al and Steve, but backed off when they learned that the latter two were in a committed relationship.
Gene was 53, 5’11, with brown curly hair, hazel eyes, and an average build. His build may have been average, but when he smiled, it was as if someone had switched on all of the lights on the Christmas tree.
Roy was 54, 5’10, reddish hair, blue eyes, was trim and fit, and his chest was covered with a fine light dusting of the same reddish hair. He too, had what today we would call a killer smile.
Al and Steve had brought the two together, and the two had hit it off right away. When they first met, well . . . to paraphrase roughly, very roughly, the song from that movie.
Their wands began to itch
Their packages to twitch
When suddenly, to satisfy an itch. . . .
Well, what happened then was rich!
The two couples had visited each other’s homes several times.
As Al put the two pizzas on the kitchen table, Roy said, “It’s great that your group is singing at the Stadium. Gene and I are looking forward to our first ball game in Baltimore.”
Steve replied, “It’s really a special night. It’s Foster Family Night at the Stadium, and the Baltimore City Division of Social Services has gotten a large group of tickets for foster families, and families that have recently grown by adopting one or more children.”
“Four of our friends—you remember Pete, Joe, Matt and Gary?—work for the Division, and they were able to get a few extra tickets,” Steve added.
“It sounds wonderful,” Gene sighed. “I wish couples like us could----.”
“We know what you mean,” Steve said. “Al has three grandchildren and a fourth one is on the way.”
“And, my other married daughter and her husband have recently been approved to become foster parents, so we may have more grandkids to spoil. I’ll bet Jack and Peggy and Sally and Paul would let you be honorary ‘uncles.’”
“That might just work,” smiled Gene.
At Jake and Sarah’s house, where the couple lived with their adopted son Matt and his partner, Gary, lived; the four were finishing a delicious lunch of chicken salad, potato salad, and cole slaw.
After the dishes were cleared away, Jake said, “Matt and Gary, Sarah and I want to talk to you about something.”
“Sure, Pop,” Matt said.
“Matt, you are our adopted son, and no birth parents could be prouder of a son than Sarah and I are of you,” Jake said.
Sarah added, “Gary, Jake and I love you as if you were our son also.”
Both young men smiled, and said, “You know how we feel about you two, also.”
Sarah went on, “Jake and I are not getting any younger and we are finding this house is just a little too much for us. We have been very happy here, but……”
“But what, Mom?” Matt asked.
“We’ve come to a decision,” Jake said. “Matt and Gary, would each of you hand us a $5.00 bill, please?”
The two men looked at each other and each took out a five-dollar bill, and handed it to Jake.
Jake left and returned with some papers that read, “ This indenture made this 3rd of September, 1963, between Jake Fishbein and Sarah Kahn Fishbein, parties of the first part, for the sum of $10.00, and for other valuable considerations, do hereby grant, convey and transfer to Matt Jenkins Fishbein and Gary Dixon, parties of the second part, to property known as 39 Milford Avenue, as joint tenants in common, with the right of survivorship, . . . “
He stopped reading. Matt and Gary sat, stunned by the news.
“B-b-but what about you two? Where are you going? “Matt stuttered.
Sarah answered, “We are moving to Levindale. We will be with friends, we have a nice apartment, and you boys (well, you are boys to us, you know) can visit us as often as you want.”
Matt and Gary got up and went to Sarah and thanked her and hugged her, and then went to Jake and thanked him, and hugged him.
After several pairs of eyes were dried, Sarah said, “I think you two will have to start getting ready. We have tickets too, and we want to get there in time for the opening.”
“Right, Mom,” said Matt. “Oh! And there’s another surprise. Jess Mercer, who was guest organist at Church in May has come to Baltimore, and he will be playing the organ at the Stadium tonight.”
It was 3:00 and an afternoon cookout was in full swing on the lawn of the manse of Trinity Presbyterian Church. Pastor Glendy and his wife had several out of town guests, and they had invited Pete and Joe because one of the guests had specifically asked to be allowed to meet them.
The steaks and the burgers and the hotdogs were sizzling on the grill, the beer and the soft drinks were getting a nice chill, and all the side dishes were waiting to fill the plates and then the stomachs of the guests.
Reverend Chet and Jess Mercer were there, discussing the relative merits of Faure’s, Durafle’s and Verdi’s Requiems. (What a topic for lunch at a Presbyterian picnic!).
A gentleman in his late 60s was sitting quietly relaxing when Pete and Joe came around the side of the house. The older gentleman, who was not quite as feeble as he sometimes pretended, got up and went to the men and greeted them warmly, saying “Guys, I wanted to meet you because I have know you for 20 some years, ever since that summer at your grandmother’s house in the country. I’m glad to see you have been keeping well.”
“Uncle Ed Walk, we are so glad to see you. We’ve kept in touch, but there’s nothing like visiting face to face,” Pete said.
“You “boys” have been two of my favorite people ever since I read about you in “Brothers All,” Uncle Ed said.
“How is your knee? I see you are carrying your cane,” Steve chipped in.
“My knee isn’t so bad. Sometimes I carry the cane because it helps, and sometimes I just carry it ‘just for show’.”
“You’re coming to the game this evening, aren’t you?” Pete asked.
“I wouldn’t miss hearing you and the other Companions sing The Star Spangled Banner. I know you will do it beautifully!”
“Oh, yes. Jess told us there would be no added trills and flourishes. We are going to sing it just as it was written, because that’s the way he is going to play it.”
There was also a pre-game party at the Heckman house. Dave and Mary and their two newly adopted children, Timmy and Tammy, were there. Two other people were there as well, and to look at one of them, you might think it would be a solemn affair, with no laughing, joking, or kidding around.
Lieutenant John Heckman was home on leave from Viet-Nam, with the left sleeve of his uniform coat pinned back, because he had lost his left arm below the elbow in an explosion in ‘Nam. His right hand, however, was happily engaged in holding the left hand of Alicia Cross, the social worker who had helped bring Timmy and Tammy into the Heckmans’ hearts and home. Alicia and John had corresponded while he was overseas, and slowly, their feelings of liking each other had ripened into something deeper.
They all had tickets for the game, and had good seats halfway up the top tier of seats, which ended at the top at the wall of Memorial Stadium.
Root, root, root for the home team!
Later that evening, Memorial Stadium was packed with Orioles fans, who had come to see their team beat the Yankees.
When Jess took his seat at the organ he found it was an impressive electronic organ--not his favorite type of instrument--but he would do his best. He understood that in addition to the National Anthem, he would be expected to play fanfares of some sort every time an Oriole got a home run. After the game he would play some kind of peppy march to encourage the fans to leave the stadium promptly.
At last it was time. The Companions were introduced by Earl Weaver, the manager of the Orioles, Jess began to play and the Companions began to sing.
There were no unnecessary frills, trills, or flourishes, but at the end of the Anthem as was traditional, there was applause and cheering, and then the cry, “PLAY BALL.”
The Companions took their places in the box seats reserved for them and their friends. In a box behind them sat the Heckmans. Dave, John, and Timmy Heckman were excited about the game. Mary, Tammy, and Alicia were a little quieter, but as the game got under way, they were not backward in coming forward with shouts of “Yeeeaaah” for the Orioles, “Boooo,” for the Yankees, and “Kill the Ump” if he made an unpopular call.
In the 1st inning, the Orioles had one home run with bases loaded. Jess played “Hail the Conquering Hero Comes,” from Handel’s Judas Maccabeus.
The score was Orioles 4, Yankees 0.
In the 3rd inning, Yankees had a home run with one other man on base. Jess played The Dead March from Saul. The audience roared with laughter,
At the start of the 5th inning, the score was Orioles 5, Yankees, 3. The Orioles had another homer, with two men on base. Jess played Hail to the Chief. At the end of that inning the score was Orioles 8, Yankees 4.
During the 7th inning stretch, Matt and Gary went to the men’s room. They had been drinking a lot of soda. As they entered one end of the rest room, they heard a loud voice saying, “What were you doing? That’s bad! That’s sinful!”
They saw a middle aged man come out of one of the stalls at the far end. He was tightly gripping the arm of a boy who appeared to be about 12. Matt tried to follow them, but the two of them disappeared into the crowd.
Matt and Gary went back to their seats, but they had lost interest in watching the game.
The game was a real cliff hanger. By the start of the 9th inning, the score was Orioles 10, Yankees 9. If the Oriole pitcher could get three Yankees out without any runs, the Orioles would win the game.
Sure enough, the Yankees went down—one, two, three, and the game was over. The O’s had won 10 to 9. Jess was just starting to play “The Grand March” from Aida in quick time, when suddenly from their section of the stadium the Companions and their friends had been sitting, there were cries of “Stop him!” “Don’t let him get away!” “Bring him back!”
Matt, Gary, and everyone else turned in their seats and saw a young figure running up to the wall at the top of the tier. He was being chased by a middle aged man.
“Isn’t that the man we saw in the men’s room,” Matt asked Gary.
“I think so, and he does not look the least bit friendly!” Gary replied.
A security guard had gotten to the area where Jess was playing and told him there was an emergency situation, and it might be best if he stopped playing.
Jess shut down the organ, and came out to join his friends, Chet and Ed. Their eyes and the eyes of everyone in the stadium were riveted on the small figure sitting on the top of the wall.
“Don’t come any nearer. I am not going with you.”
His pursuer stopped. He called out to the boy, “Come down and take your punishment. You must have this evil driven out of you.”
“No!”
“Come down, NOW!”
“No. I won’t. You’re not my father.”
“I said come down, right now. I’m not your father, but I am your guardian, and YOU . . WILL . . . OBEY . . .ME!”
There were two groups about 15 steps below the boy. One group was made up of our friends, the Companions, the folks from the Division of Social Services, the Heckmans, Jess, Chet, Ed, and Pastor Glendy and his wife, and Judge Jones and his family.
The other group was standing behind their leader, the middle aged man, and they began to chant “Repent. Repent. Repent.”
Stadium security guards were there to keep everyone back, everyone back, but Timmy Heckman somehow slipped away from his Dad and went five steps up toward the boy.
“Hey, buddy, what’s wrong?” Timmy asked. “No, I won’t come any closer if you don’t want. I just want to know if I can help you.”
Dave and Mary closed their eyes and prayed. Chet and the Glendys were praying too.
“I won’t go with him. He beats me.”
“Why does he do that?”
“He caught me doing something he said was sinful and wicked and he said he would have to beat the devil out of me.”
Timmy said, “Can I come a little closer? I can’t quite hear you, and maybe it’s something you might want to tell me quietly. I’ll tell you this, I once had a stepfather that wanted to do bad things with me, but I found some great people who got me away from him and now my sister and I have a new Mom and Dad, and they are the greatest!”
The boy said “You can come up, but I don’t want anyone else coming up.”
Timmy went to the top of the steps and said, “Why don’t you climb off the top of the wall, and sit here on the steps and tell me what it’s all about.”
A great sigh of relief went up from the watching crowd as they saw the boy get off the top of the wall where he had been sitting, and sit down beside Timmy. The young man was trying very hard not to cry. Timmy put his arm around the boy and said, “It’s all right, go ahead and cry, if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll be your friend.”
“I’ve never had a friend before. Thanks. What’s your name?”
“Timmy Heckman. What’s yours?”
“Jimmy Porter. Thanks for wanting to be my friend, but you may not want to be my friend when you find out what a miserable sinner I am.”
Just then the middle aged man said, “I’m going to get my foster son right now.”
“No, you’re not. You’re staying put right here, and if you make another move or another sound, I’ll arrest you,” said the burly stadium security guard.
“Officer, you don’t know it, but I am the Reverend Mill Stone. I am called to preach the HOLY AND INFALLIBLE WORD OF GOD. If you prevent me from doing my GOD-GIVEN DUTY, you stand in danger of the FIRE OF HELL!”
“That may be,” said the Officer, “but I am not letting you near that boy right now.”
“But, I say to you….”
“That’s it. You’re under arrest.”
Judge Jones and Adele Pritchett came over to the Officer and introduced themselves. Judge Jones spoke, “There seems to be some question about the boy’s status as a foster son. Adele Pritchett is head of the Baltimore City Division of Social Services. She and I will have a hearing in my chambers tomorrow morning. I want the boy, the Reverend Stone, and other concerned parties in my chambers at the Court House tomorrow morning at 9:30. Officer, I am asking you to come, if your duties permit.”
“Your Honor, tomorrow is my day off, and I will gladly come to the hearing, even if it takes all day,” replied the officer.
Back at the top of the steps,
Timmy said to Jimmy, “I can’t believe you’re a miserable sinner. Why do you say
that?”
Jimmy replied, “Because he. . . . . he caught me . . . “
To be concluded.
Feedback always
welcome:
Advisors comments: I’m thinking that Al and Steve are about to be grandparents again. Why is it that young people can solve problems so much easier than us old people who carry a cane? I guess it is because they don’t have the excess baggage that we older people have. I can’t believe that our esteemed author is going to take this story away from us. E.
The author’s last word: My good friend and advisor is afraid I will think him brutal when he makes corrections to my work, but I will say that I am grateful for his “brutality,” his honesty, and perhaps most of all, his caring about my story. We’ve had Brother’s All, Looking Ahead, Friends All, and now Companions All. Who knows? Perhaps there will be a Cousins All, IF I hear from enough readers. Will B.
Feedback always welcome. Would anyone care to conjecture what this “terrible sin” is?
Posted: 11/09/07