Date: Tue, 12 Nov 2013 04:27:46 -0800 (PST) From: John Michaels Subject: Discovering Jayson - Chapter 2 DISCOVERING JAYSON BY JM Email: mmanlookin@yahoo.com Disclaimers and other info: see chapter one I heard from a reader who hails from the part of the state where this story takes place, and I apologize in advance to him and any others for any misstatements about the locale or populace. I simply chose the place randomly and have no personal knowledge of the area other than what I've been able to find Googling. I freely admit that sometimes I take a great deal of poetic license in my writing, so no insult or injury is intended in what you will read as the story goes along. Please just consider it for what it is: entertainment. And please, folks. If you want to continue to enjoy the vast wealth of material found on Nifty, help them to keep it a free service, while also showing your appreciation for their efforts by sending whatever amount you can to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Thanks!! CHAPTER TWO As I got out of my car, I paused in the hot, humid air to look over the building before me. I shamefully admit that I was damn proud of what I was able to get built. From the outside, it simply looked like a large squat cinder-block building with a metal roof that comfortably fit into the surrounding community and landscape. It's what you couldn't see that made me the proudest. This building was state of the art in every regard. That seemingly ordinary metal roof was, in fact, a work of art in its own right. It was much heavier than it looked and was guaranteed to withstand hurricane winds of up to 200 miles per hour. Since the most severe to hit the US had winds of 175 miles per hour - and that was on the coast - this roof would hopefully withstand anything Mother Nature could throw at it. And hidden beneath that roof were the air ducts and changers that were connected to the industrial-size air conditioner, hidden inside a well-insulated, noise-deadening shed just to my left as you face the building. To the casual observer, it just looked like an ordinary storage shed. It also housed a heat pump for those damp cooler days, and all the equipment and piping was well-hidden, as were the vents inside. Inside, there were large ceiling fans that helped move the cool (or heated) air, giving the impression that it was the insulating nature of the cinder block and the fans that kept the inside comfortable for all. These were a poor but proud people that the Center served, and anything that smacked of fancy or "hi-falutin'" was looked upon with disdain and pretty much shunned. The Center's goal was to help as many people as possible, and in order to be able to do that, we had to first make them feel comfortable and not intimidated by too much "rich folk" stuff. The building itself was of extremely sturdier construct than met the eye. It was heavily reinforced and insulated, with windows that held the best e-glass available, so it was very easy to always keep a constant and comfortable temperature. The total cost was a hell of a lot more than what met the eye should have cost, but only the architects, the construction crew and I knew the building's true worth in every sense of the word. The people happily accepted this welcome addition to the community, and that's all that mattered. The building itself is a 5000 square foot rectangle, 100 feet long and 50 feet wide, and was divided into 4 sections. The kitchen took up 25x50 feet of that space at one end of the building, with 2 walk-in freezers and a walk-in refrigerator. The rest of the area contained 2 commercial-grade stoves, each with double ovens, a bank of 4 additional wall ovens, commercial-grade, 2-door refrigerator, dish washer, large double sink and stainless steel counter tops for prep work. With all the equipment, it left just enough room for 4 people to work efficiently and comfortably, and up to 6 people, if they didn't move around too much. There were double swinging doors that led into the dining room, each only able to swing one way to prevent collisions, with a large pass-through just to their left. The dining room, as well as the rec room beyond it, was 30x50 with 8 long tables that could seat 50 people - 65 in a pinch. If it got really crowded, the wall between the dining and rec rooms could be retracted, effectively doubling the seating space. There was a large double fireplace in the middle of the wall that opened through to the rec room beyond and gave a welcome warmth and ambiance on the cooler days of the winter month to both areas. The rec room is the same size as the dining room, with several comfortable seating areas, each with a large sofa, that could hold up to four comfortably, and several padded wing-back chairs, with one of the areas focused on the 60" flat screen HDTV. There was also a play area for kids in one corner and several shelves containing books that people would bring in and share and/or exchange as well as a selection of board games. There were also handicap-accessible restrooms in each section, including a room with four shower stalls in the back section. We had our own water and sewer system, as well as a back-up generator that would keep the refrigerators and freezers working, as well as the heating/cooling system, so we could be completely self-sufficient in case of emergency. We were also the area emergency shelter, and we were well equipped and prepared for any natural disaster. In all, it was a very pleasant space that was also the center for our elder care program as well as community outreach. We had several elderly men and women use the service, a few of whom were there every week day, and some just a few times a week or even less frequently, since the folks they were living with, usually family of some sort, had to work or just plain needed an occasional break. We were blessed to have been able to hire a very competent nurse Jackie Essex, who had retired early to take care of her own parents who lived in town, both of whom had passed on within 2 years and within a week of one another. Not really wanting to go back to her old job, she jumped at the chance to work at the Center, and everyone loved her for her warm, gentle, and loving nature. She was helped by a county nurse who came in for 3 half days, Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and between the two of them, they would hold an open clinic to treat anyone with minor ailments, regardless of age, that cropped up in the community. There were also several high school kids, boys and girls, who came in voluntarily after school and during vacations to read to the older folk, play board games, or simply sit and talk - mostly just listen - to tales from days gone by. Which brings us to the far end of the building, the remaining 15x50 feet, where there were 4 small rooms for use by the nurses for examination and treatment, one of which was my office, and the shower room. There were also 3 main doors on the front of the building, each with a small vestibule with doors at both ends to help cut any heating or cooling loss, and each leading into an individual area, the kitchen being the only one without it's own front entrance. I was now headed in to work on some bookkeeping and to look over the list of things I'd need to order for the kitchen and the Center in general in my office at the far end, walking through the length of the building so I could see how things were going and greet any clients that were there. "Hey, Boss!" boomed Jesse, with a huge grin, as I walked into the kitchen. "'Bout time y'all got your lazy ass outta bed and got to work!" He had been a godsend who arrived on the scene just when we needed him most. Jesse Martin was a large, African-American, who had taken an early retirement from the Navy after 20 years and had moved back to his hometown. He had been a cook on a Navy destroyer and had the skills and know-how to feed large numbers of people at the drop of a hat. He stood 6'6", and weighed about 275 pounds, none of it fat. He was easy-going and affable, and everybody loved him, and he and I had a relaxed rapport with more than a bit of humor involved. He always seemed to be in a good mood and wasn't afraid to show it. He was a gentle giant and always made time to go around and talk to any of the elderly who happened to be in on any given day, and they all thought the world of him and his cooking. But when it came to his kitchen, he was all business and had a way of getting others to do what was needed without loosing his good nature, even under pressure. He was one of only two to get a small salary, and even then, we had to coerce him to take it. I had finally convinced him it was only fair, since he also took care of inventorying and getting the order list ready each week as well as scheduling all the volunteers. We had a small group of kitchen volunteers that rotated, so that there were always at least two others helping him at any given time and always a couple on call, just in case they were needed. But it was Jesse who kept the kitchen running smoothly, and always with a smile. The only time I heard his temper was when a supplier had sent the wrong order at a time when that sort of thing had the biggest negative impact. I swear the phone lines must have melted between the Center and the supplier, as he shouted his extreme displeasure, calling into question the pedigree of the parents of those responsible, and informed the company just what they were going to do to make things right. It ended up with the VP of sales from the company, himself, who arrived with the correct order not 2 hours later, and Jesse convinced the man that if they wanted to keep our business, not only would this never happen again, but that the company would donate the all the things from the wrong order to the Center. The poor salesman was literally shaking and looked like he was about to piss himself when Jesse got done with him, and not only had there not been a single problem since, we got to keep the extra stuff with no charge. But now, it looked like Jesse was in one of his playful moods, so it looks like a day of friendly sparring is in store. "And just what time does that clock over there say?" I asked, crossing my arms in response. "8:30, and yeah, I know you're not scheduled 'til 9:00, but I need the time to give you grief before I start my day. It's the most important part of my job," he said, grinning. "That way, I can get it out of my system and be all sweetness and light and my usual wonderful self the rest of the day for the folk that really matter around here." "You're incorrigible!" I exclaimed, trying hard - and failing - to keep the grin off my face. "With all the abuse you heap on me, I don't know why I keep you around." "'Cuz y'a love me and can't live without me," he replied, coming over and wrapping his huge arms around me and planting a big wet kiss on my forehead. I couldn't hold it in any longer and started laughing. "All right, you big shit!" I laughed. "Knock it off." I could both hear and feel the rumble of his chuckle in his chest. "What's on the agenda for today?" He stepped back but kept his arm on my shoulder. "I put the food and kitchen supplies order on your desk," he said, suddenly looking serious. "That damn list seems to get bigger every month, and I hate what that implies." I knew exactly what he meant. This damn economy was driving more and more people down to the point where they needed our services just to squeak by. As odd as it seems, the less busy we are, the happier we are. It means things are going better for folks I sighed and stepped away. "Anything else I should know?" I asked. "Well, since you asked, we could use another server or two for the dining room," said. "Since we seem to be getting busier, the extra help would be nice." "I'll see what I can do, but it's always hard finding people who are willing to give up several hours at split times during lunch and supper," I sighed. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately. "Maybe since school just got out we could find a couple of school kids willing to help. I'll call around and see what I can find. By the way, something's already beginning to smell good in here. You've been busy already. What's on the menu?" "Well," he said, " for lunch, I got barbeque pulled pork sandwiches with cole slaw and hush puppies, and for supper we're gonna have meat loaf, mashed sweet potatoes and collard greens." "Damn! That sounds great," I exclaimed. "I'm damn glad we crossed paths. You're the one of the best things to happen to this place." "Hey!" he huffed, but clearly pleased with my praise. "Don't y'all start gettin' nice to me! I'll start feeling guilty when I get the urge to give you a ration of shit." "I don't think that would stop you," I laughed. "You'd explode if you didn't get to throw your barbs. See y'a later." I punched him lightly on the arm and walked out of the kitchen toward my office, his laughter ringing through the building. Walking though the dining room, I noticed everything was neat and clean, ready to be set up for lunch. There were two senior clients already in the rec room, a man, Joe Mason, and a woman, Laura Chalmers, both in their mid-seventies and at the moment, in the middle of a cut-throat game of checkers. I stopped to say hello, and they both greeted me with big smiles. Joe informed me that she was an easy warm-up partner getting ready to challenge others when they got in. Laura quickly retorted that she was "gonna show this ole fool how the game is really played and whomp his ass good!" They had both lived in the community all their lives and had been good friends since elementary school, and it was always a hoot to hear the banter between them. After wishing them both luck, I went into the office block, hoping to catch our full-time nurse, Jackie Essex, so I could get her list of needed medical supplies for when I made my ordering calls later in the morning. She was another blessing for the center, having left her nursing job at a hospital in Jacksonville, FL, to come home and take care of her ailing parents. When both passed away within a week of one another last year, she decided to take an early retirement and remain here, living in the family home. Even though she had a modest retirement income from her years of nursing and could have simply relaxed, it wasn't long before the working itch struck just about the same time we decided to hire a full-time nurse for the Center. It was a match made in heaven! She is kind, caring, compassionate and extremely competent, and there's no doubt in anyone's mind that she loves her job and her elder charges. I know for a fact that she's gone out late at night to see some of the center's clients medical problems that may have occurred after hours, and if more drastic attention was needed, she knew all the local doctors and was on a first-name basis with many of the social workers, and always ensured that her patients got the best possible care. We're so lucky and grateful to have her working with us. I found her in one of the examination rooms with a clipboard, checking the cupboards to see what needed to be replaced. She told me she was almost done and would drop off the order sheet shortly. Thanking her, I went to my office to go over the books and see what needed to be paid today. Booting up the computer, I logged in and opened the bookkeeping program. Going through the stack of receipts and bills, I entered each in the appropriate column, and then I went through to pay the bills that were due. The software allowed me to print checks on the Center's account , the screen showing a copy of a blank check. I simply typed in the necessary info, pushed send, and a valid check was spit out by the laser printer just waiting for a signature. During the time I was doing the books, Jackie came in with her completed order form. I paused what I was doing and asked if there was anything else not on the list that she needed. She sighed and said that there were always things that were wanted, but that we had everything we needed. I told her to keep her wish list active. Maybe Santa would think she was a good girl. She chuckled, and went off to see to her "senior friends", as she called them. After completing my bookkeeping duties, I got down to ordering. Although there were only three forms - kitchen, nursing and general - which included things like toilet paper, mops, cleaning supplies, etc. - there were several different suppliers we used on each one for specific items. The one I was least looking forward to was the one you would have thought would be most helpful - government surplus. Whenever I had to request an order from them, you'd think I was asking for the moon, and when they finally agreed to send at least most of what we needed, you would have thought they'd just really put themselves out by granting you the biggest favor ever. I always called them first, not only to get the unpleasantness out of the way, but in case there was something on the list they didn't have, I could add it to the order from one of our regular suppliers. It pissed me off when I had to do this, because they sent us a monthly list of their available inventory that was also sent to other help centers in the region, and we based our order with them on that list. Anything I wasn't able to get from them took money out of our carefully-constructed budget, and I'm convinced that the things they said they didn't have for me that had been on the list were going to places with more political clout. It wasn't so much the money issue, since I can always quietly slide more into the account. It was the principle of the thing. So much for "all men are created equal" ! It was 11:30 by the time I was finished in the office, and I decided I'd head out toward the kitchen to see how things were going. The dining room was about half full, but I expect more to arrive closer to noon. I stopped to chat with a few people and was just getting ready to push through the door into the kitchen, when I happened to notice a young man, standing by himself in the corner by the door and looking decidedly nervous. I'm pretty good with remembering names and faces, and I don't recall seeing him before, so I took a detour to introduce myself. As I got closer, I could see that he was an older teen, maybe 17 or 18, and when he saw me approaching, his nervousness seemed to increase. "Welcome to the Community Center," I said, as I came up to him, hand extended. "I'm Eric Matheson, director of the facility. I don't think I've seen you before." "Umm, no sir," he said quietly, with his head down. Then, noticing my hand, he wiped his palm on his shorts before giving taking my hand and giving it a quick shake. "Umm, we just moved here last week. My Gramma and me. This is the first time I've been in here. Oh, umm. I'm Jayson Brant, spelled with a 'y'." "Welcome to town, Jayson, and nice to meet you" I said. "And please don't feel nervous to be here. We're here to help anyone who needs it. As you can see, you're not the youngest one here." I indicated several young children with their families. "No, sir, umm, I mean, I understand, sir," he stammered nervously. "It's just that I don't know if you can really help me." "OK. First, let's stop with the"sir" stuff," I said, smiling. "That's way too formal for the likes of me. Please call me Eric, like everyone else." "OK, si.., umm, Eric," he replied with a shy smile. "Now, suppose you tell me why you think we might not be able to help you," I said. "This is so embarrassing," he said, visibly squirming. "But, you see, it's like this. My gramma and I moved here 'cuz she grew up here and has a place about 2 miles out of town that way." He pointed in the direction I traveled to get home. "Hmm," I grunted. "I live out that way, too, and I don't recall seeing anyone moving in." "You can't really see it from the road," he replied, still clearly uncomfortable. "It sits back in toward the Swamp about a mile." "My place is a little farther along, and my road is also back toward the Swamp," I said. "But tell me why you think we might not be able to help you." He took a big sigh. "Well, it's my Gramma," he said. "She broke her leg and can't get around. The little money she had saved for us to live on 'til she could get a job got used up in the medical expenses, and we've run out of food. I was hoping you would let me take some food to her, but it looks like people come here to eat." "Since you just moved here, you probably aren't aware that the Center has a free van that will pick folks up, bring them here and take them home again," I said. "They will also deliver meals to those who aren't able to leave their homes." "Yes, sir...I mean, Yes Eric," he said, quickly. "I did hear about it, but there's no way a van, or just about any vehicle, can get down our road. It hasn't been used or worked on for years, and ain't much more than a goat path now. And there's no way Gram could get to the end of the road. Her cast goes from her hip right to her foot, and the doctor told her she's to stay off it completely for at least month." A plan began forming in my mind. Sir Eric and Lady Jackie to the rescue, maybe! Well, hopefully, anyway. In the meantime, I could hear this poor kid's stomach growling. "Your gramma isn't the only one that needs food," I said, placing my hand on his shoulder and beginning to steer him to an empty table nearby. "So do growing teens. Have a seat here, and I'll get us something to eat and drink. Then we'll take care of your Gramma." He sat down, with his hands folded meekly in his lap and his head down. When I entered the kitchen, Jesse grabbed me and pulled me aside. "So, who's the latest rescue?" he asked, with a sly grin. "I don't know what you're talking about," I protested. "Bullshit!" he said quietly, so only I could hear. "You're always taking a special interest when there's someone whose situation tugs at your heartstrings. I know all about the extra stuff you do for folks around here. Your heart's just too big to not get involved. You can't fool me, Eric. So what's the story with the kid." I gave him a brief synopsis while putting a tray of food together for Jayson and me. Knowing teen appetites, I doubled everything on his plate and asked Jesse if he'd fix up some to go that I would help personally deliver to Jayson's grandmother. "Like I said, one of the good guys," said Jesse, giving me a bone-crushing hug. I think I even noticed that his eyes were a little moist. "You and Nurse Jackie take the boy and the food home and see what's the best way to help them. If you want, I've got a big garden tractor with a blade, and I might be able to at least fix the road so y'all can get in and out easier." "If I'm one of the good guys, the you're the absolute best," I said, hugging him back. Then, getting two glasses of iced tea, I loaded the tray and went out to join Jayson. He was still sitting with his head down and still looking decidedly uncomfortable, but a look of relief crossed his face when I sat down across from him with the tray of food in between. His eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas, as I placed the plate in front of him loaded down with two large pulled pork barbeque sandwiches, a mound of cole slaw and a pile of hush puppies. He was practically drooling, and I was surprised when he bowed his head in silent Grace before digging in. My own plate contained exactly half of what covered his, and even that was going to be more than enough for me. Then a thought occurred to me, and, after excusing myself for a moment, went in search of Jackie. I guess if she's going to be involved in my plans for Jayson and his gramma, I'd better ask her first! I found her eating her own lunch in the exam room she used for her office, going over some patient files. I explained to her Jayson's situation and asked if she'd be willing to go with me when I took him and the food for his grandmother to his home. She jumped at the chance to help, and I left her to her lunch while I went back to my own, agreeing to meet in about a half hour. I hadn't been gone all that long, but Jayson had managed to almost clear his plate. The kid was obviously very hungry, and I couldn't help but wonder just how long ago it was that they had eaten. As I gave Jayson the rundown for after lunch, I took a quick assessment of the young man. From his coloring and facial features, I'd have to say that he was mixed blood - definitely African-American, with most likely Native American mixed in. He was wearing an over-sized sleeveless basketball-type shirt, a pair of nylon shorts that came to just above his knees, and a pair of the rattiest sneakers I've ever seen with duct tape wrapped around the toe end of both, probably keeping the soles on. He stood a few inches shorter than my 5'11" and looked as though he might weigh 140 pounds on a good day. He had long black hair that hung to just below his shoulders in a pony tail, a rather angular face with dark brown - almost black - eyes that looked as though he could search your soul with them. His nose was just slightly wider than normal, giving testimony to his heritage, and generous lips set over a slightly pointed and dimpled chin. From what I could see, his muscles were lean and well-developed, making me think that they were a result of athletics - soccer, swimming, baseball, biking. Those types of sports. He also had a bubble butt that fit his sleek frame perfectly. All in all, the picture of a fit, active teen. I wouldn't call him handsome, but when he gave one of his rare smiles, it transformed his face into one that was very attractive. As I was telling him about the plans for after lunch, he seemed to get not only more nervous, but also upset. This really puzzled me, because I thought he'd be glad for some help with his grandmother. I could understand him being embarrassed and uncomfortable with having to ask for help. Everyone has a certain amount of pride, and when they come to a place in their lives when they just can't cope on their own, asking for help seems like you're a failure and can't deal with your own life issues. But there seemed to be something else at work here as well. "Jayson," I finally said, " I know how hard it is to ask for help, but why are you getting upset? We just want to help you and your grandmother until things improve." He slapped his hand on the table to make sure he had my full attention. Boy! Did he ever! This was a side of the quiet and polite young man I hadn't expected. "You don't understand. It's a fucking dump" he hissed, angrily. "It's not even nice enough to call it a shack. I don't want anyone to see how we're forced to live right now." As quickly as it had appeared, the anger was gone, and he started crying. I quickly got up and went around and took him in my arms, rubbing his back and stroking his head. He threw his arms around my waist, buried his head in my chest and started to sob. My heart was breaking for this young man, so full of such deep despair, grief and uncertainty about life in general. Not surprisingly, Jesse was soon at my side, his huge arms around both of us in silent support, having seen everything from the kitchen. Jayson was still crying, although the sobbing had stopped, and my shirt was now thoroughly soaked with his tears. He was most likely crying out at least a week's worth of uncertainty, fear, frustration, anger, grief and guilt. Guilt, because of all the other emotions that he harbored, since it was his beloved grandmother who had unwittingly brought them to this place and current situation. I'm damn sure she hadn't planned to break her leg, and he felt that he should be totally supportive, not being pissed of at circumstances. Nobody said a word as Jayson finally calmed down. God bless the others in the dining room. They had seen what was happening and left us alone, just about all of them knowing what Jayson was going through, since they'd been there themselves. Jesse finally let go and stepped back, and I noticed his face was as wet as mine in our shared sorrow over the plight of Jayson and his grandmother. With my arm around Jayson's shoulder, I led him to the closest restroom and told him to wash his face and take some deep breaths. "Take your time, and come out when you feel ready," I said, soothingly. "We'll see where we go from there. OK?" He put his arms around me and put his head on my shoulder, seeking comfort like the kid he was. "I'm sorry I had that meltdown in front of everyone," he said, softly. "I don't know what came over me." "I do," I replied, as I held him close. "You think you're in an impossible situation with no way out. I assure you, Jayson, it's not impossible and there is a way out. But you're going to have to trust me." "That's the weirdest part of all this," he said, not moving his head or arms. "I don't even really know you, but I do trust you. You make me feel safe for the first time in a long time." I have no idea what came over me, but I kissed the side of his head. I think it was from my memories of my parents comforting me and doing the same. At any rate, when I did that, Jayson tightened his arms around me and sighed. Just then, Jackie came through from the rec room, closely followed by Jesse. I hadn't even noticed he was gone. He stepped behind Jayson, who was still holding on, and put his large arms around us. He rested his forehead against mine a looked into my eyes. "You boys gonna be OK now?" he asked, softly. "I think so." "Yeah." came from both of us, respectively. "Good," said Jesse, stepping back and putting his big hand on Jayson's shoulder. "Why don't you come with me, and we'll get some food together for your gramma. While we do that, we'll let Eric and Nurse Jackie figure out where we go from there." "OK," he said, giving me a final hug before stepping back and looking deep into my eyes with his own deep, soulful pools. "I really don't have enough words to thank you enough, Eric. And thank you for trying to help, too." He gave a small smile to Jackie and Jesse. "OK, boy," said Jesse, clapping Jayson on the back with his big paw, "let's go put together some grub for Grannie!" As they walked off, I could hear him laughing. It's the first time I heard the sound, and it made my heart soar as I smiled at their retreating backs. "OK, Boss, here's the deal," said Jackie, bringing me back to the present. I sat down, waiting to hear what she had to say. "If we find that things are really as bad as Jayson says, you're going to have house guests for the foreseeable future. Whether or not we can get his grandmother to move, you're going to be hosting Jayson, at least for a few days. He needs a safe change of scenery, and I can't think of any place better than yours. Right now, he's hurting and mentally much too fragile to go back there. Lord knows, you've got the space. (She's one of the few Center employees who I've invited to my house, Jesse being another.) You've got 4 bedrooms, and I noticed you had all the bathrooms made handicap accessible. And if I remember right, even all the doorways are wide enough to accommodate a wheel chair. In the meantime, Jesse and I will take the food out to the grandmother, and I have a 4-wheel drive with fairly high clearance, so I shouldn't have any problems getting to the place. But if his grandmother is in as bad shape as he said she is, then I'm going to insist that she also stay with you until she can get around on her own and be able to be totally independent. As a county health nurse, I can throw my weight around pretty effectively when I have to. And finally, (I groaned!) while she's staying with you (I noticed it was no longer "if"), the Center, meaning YOU (she knew about my financial involvement) are going to get together a work crew, tear that old place down and build her a small, 2-bedroom cottage, good for year 'round living, and see that there's adequate water, sewerage and electric. Any questions?" "Are you expecting any?" I asked, trying to keep from laughing. "Not a damn one!" was her reply. "I think I laid it all out pretty clearly." "Yeah, you did," I said, finally letting it out and laughing heartily. She had her arms folded and was scowling at me. "What's so damn funny!" she spat. "You," I shot back, still giggling. "I just wish I had a camera right now so you could see the look on your face." "Well...," she began, starting to relax. "Look." I said, getting up and putting my arm around her shoulder. "You should know me well enough by now to know that I already was mentally making plans for them, and you pretty much lined up everything I'd been thinking. I just wasn't sure if you guys would be behind me or not. A lot of people would look at this as meddling favoritism, but from what we know, it sounds like this is a unique situation. The biggest hurdle I see is going to be the grandmother. From what little I learned from Jayson, they're both pretty prideful and reluctant to take what they see as hand-outs, but I think he reached his breaking point today, so he should be at least reluctantly agreeable to our plan. And I have a hunch that as goes Jayson, so goes Gramma. Once she learns of what happened here today - and I hope you intend to tell her - that will be the catalyst for being able to put our plans into motion. By the way. I'm assuming your 4-wheeler is a pick-up." "Yeah," she replied. "It's got the extended cab with a bench seat and rear doors , so she can keep her leg flat on the seat, and we should be able to easily get her in and out. And it's got a cap for the bed, so we can load any immediate personal belongings they need and get the rest later. The main thing will be to get her out and into your place and settled in as soon as possible. Then I'll come back here to get the hospital-type stuff you'll need, like bed pans, and especially a wheel chair and crutches for later." "I like the way you think on your feet," I said, just as Jayson and Jesse came out of the kitchen, each carrying a large bag of food. "You folks get everything figured out?" asked Jesse as they walked up to us. "Yeah," laughed Jackie. "He finally understands where the bear shits!" Jayson's eyebrows shot up and he started giggling. "Did you tell Jayson any of our plans?" I asked Jesse. "Yeah," he replied. "I told him he'd be staying with you for a while. His grannie, too." "Are you OK with that, Jayson?" I asked him. "Yeah, I am," he said, with a shy smile. "I figured you're gonna be busy enough," said Jesse. "I've got all the fixin's in here for the same thing we'll be having here at the Center. Only difference is that the meatloaf needs to be cooked. Just throw it in a 350-degree oven along with some baking potatoes. Put the collards on to boil at the same time. They're already washed and ready to go. Give 'em about 20 minutes boiling, then drain 'em. I've thrown in a few pieces of thick slab bacon you're gonna want to chop up, throw it into the pot you boiled the collards in, cook and stir it around until it's nice, brown and crispy, then toss in the collards. Mix everything together, grease and all. Not the most heart-healthy, but damn fine eatin'. Even got some bread puddin' for dessert." Even though we'd recently eaten, I could tell that Jesse's gustatorial litany was making Jayson hungry again. Hell!! Even I was hungry again! With a round of hugs, we set off in pairs in different directions but all with the same ultimate destination. Life, as we all knew it, was about to change - hopefully for the better for Jayson and his grandmother.