Date: Tue, 09 May 2006 01:48:29 -0700 From: fritz@nehalemtel.net Subject: I Love Corey, Chapter Eighty Since I really see no way around it, here is another warning and disclaimer. I do regret wasting so many perfectly good words in them, but I use cheap words when I write so the cost is negligible and not really a problem. For all you poor underage readers out there, cheer up. One of these days you will be old enough to read this story without being in violation of the laws designed to protect you from me. While there may be a few of you who don't think you need such protection, take my word for it, if you truly knew me you would soon realize you do. I'm an arrogant opinionated old coot, and no young person should be forced to associate with me. After all, such a condition may be contagious and you certainly don't want to become arrogant and opinionated like I am. Besides, if you just wait a few years you will become that way without any help from me. I'll warn you though, reading this story may accelerate that process and surely you wouldn't want that to happen. Since there are those of you who get all upset at the descriptions of gay sex which sometimes appear in this story, the problem becomes one of what to do about you. As I see it, why should I do anything about it? If you are bound and determined to read stories which upset you, why should I deprive you of such a sick pleasure? On the other hand, if you truly don't know that such things exist in this and other stories on this site, leave now before you encounter them. Otherwise, just go ahead and scream and froth at the mouth over such descriptions. I'm quite hard of hearing and will totally ignore you. Should you be among the unfortunate people who live in an area banning the reading of this and similar stories, you can leave this site or move. Moving is by far the better option. That way you will be free to explore whatever reading material you wish without Big Brother looking over your shoulder. If moving is not an option, then be exceedingly careful and don't allow anyone to discover you reading this or other stories on this site. I was sitting around with too much free time on my hands and made the whole story up. None of the characters are real, and those unreal persons never did the things the story has them doing. You should look upon this story as somewhat akin to a fairy tale, something that never took place. While it is undoubtedly boring enough to put little kids to sleep, I would think you could probably find more appropriate stories for that purpose. This is not to say you can't use this story for that purpose, only that I question if you can stay awake long enough while reading it to get the little ones to fall asleep. Double points if you got the joke. You lose points if you have to write and ask what the joke was. Please be kind and do not claim any of this story as your own. I'm getting old and crotchety, and don't take kindly to such things. Should you do such a thing it will upset me and cause me to haunt you and give you bad dreams. Surely you don't want me haunting you for the rest of your life. Again my thanks go to Don for his efforts in editing. His help and encouragement make it so much easier to write. Complaints should be sent to fritz@nehalemtel.net As far as that goes, you can also send questions, comments, or suggestions to the same address. I try to answer all of them. Be sure to put "I Love Corey" in the subject line so I don't delete you. Deleting seems so final. Now that all the garbage is out of the way, I hope you enjoy the following chapter. Fritz ******************************************************************************** I Love Corey, Chapter Eighty To say the situation was a little awkward doesn't begin to explain just how difficult it was. Mrs. Graves had obviously calmed down some, and perhaps even thought things over, but she didn't know quite what to say. I'd been worrying about any problems she might be able to cause so I hadn't really thought of what I might say either. So we stood there, warily eyeing each other while poor Danny just looked miserable. The whole situation was a mess and I wasn't sure just where to go from here. "Uhmm, could we get our things?" Kath asked in a slightly tentative voice. "Of course," I replied, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible. "Go get your clothes Danny," Mrs. Graves told him in a somewhat strained voice. Danny started for the stairs to the basement, then stopped and looked up at me. His face was a picture of anguish and I could see the tears trying to leak out. It was like he was praying for me to do or say something and I wasn't sure where to start. Then it was like someone turned a switch and his head dropped, along with his shoulders. He suddenly looked much smaller and younger as he turned back towards the stairs which led to the basement. He reminded me of a puppy which had been kicked, although I have no idea where that image came from since I'd never seen a puppy kicked unless it was in a cartoon or something. Yet somehow that image just seemed right. "Danny," I called softly, "Why don't you wait a minute while your mother and I talk. There's some pop in the fridge." "No thank you," he sort of mumbled as he kept slowly shuffling towards the stairs, a picture of total dejection. I turned to Mrs. Graves. "Could I talk to you a minute? I owe you an apology and I'd like an opportunity to make it," I asked her, nodding towards the office. At first I thought she was going to refuse, but after a few seconds she headed for my office. My mind was whirling around, trying to think of just what to say. The worst part was that I didn't really feel I owed her an apology, more like she owed me one, but one look at Danny and I knew I had to try something. I'd been so proud of the boys for bringing out the happy Danny, and now that happy Danny was gone. He needed my best effort at solving this, but the problem was I still didn't know quite where to begin. As I was racking my brain, no new thoughts occurred and so I was left with only the thought of apologizing for exposing Danny to firearms without first asking her. I didn't know if that would help, but I knew of nothing else I could do. When we were in my office, and Mrs. Graves was seated, I started. "Mrs. Graves, I said I owed you an apology, and I do. I'm truly sorry for neglecting to learn your views on firearms before allowing Danny to handle one. That was inexcusable on my part. Truthfully I can only plead thoughtlessness. He was having such a good time that the thought never occurred to me. Had it, I would never have gone against your wishes." I paused to get some more of my thoughts in order. "As for having guns in the house, it will take a few days but I can get a heated gun safe and have it installed in the shop. It would be locked and that way he couldn't get his hands on them. However, the boys enjoy target shooting and I'm not willing to make them give it up, so that's about as far as I'm willing to go in that regard. Since guns upset you, I can rent you a motel until the safe arrives. I promise not to take Danny shooting and we will not bring any guns into the house, but will keep them in the shop. If I do all that will you reconsider your decision to leave?" "You don't have to worry about taking the boys shooting. As soon as I tell Judy about the guns they won't be in your house anymore," she sort of spat at me. She was still in her righteous indignation mode and was convinced that guns were the root of all evil. "Judy knows all about the guns and has known almost since the boys were first here." I didn't know what else to add to that statement, so I fell silent. "I don't believe you." Now that surprised me. "What reason would I have to lie? You can easily check and it would be stupid of me to not tell you the truth about Judy knowing about the guns. She checked all that out when she first placed the boys with me." The conversation was going nowhere and I had no idea of what to say next. "I still don't believe you," she again replied, but this time with just slightly less conviction in her voice. I was trying to keep my cool, but this was starting to tick me off, so I just handed her the phone. "Well ask her. Just punch autodial four, that's her cell phone number. She and Art took Debbie shopping." "I don't have to call her. The state would never permit a child to live where there are guns." "All the state requires is that any firearms be kept secure. I can show you the locked gun cabinet in my bedroom closet if you wish?" I could show her the cabinet and it was locked since I'd locked it when we were getting ready to go to Disneyland and I hadn't gotten around to unlocking it yet. I'd even put the padlock on the concealed drawer holding the pistols, but any determined burglar could break it open. However that was more of a joke as far as the boys went since they all knew where the keys were, and they also knew that if they got in there without a good reason, their asses were mine. Well maybe not their asses, but their allowances and freedom. We had discussed that subject many times and they knew that if they didn't practice good firearms safety there would be no more shooting, and like most boys they enjoyed the competitiveness of shooting. Suddenly I was struck by how many differences there are between girls and boys. Boys tend to like loud noises and competing whereas many girls appear to find such things less appealing, and might even consider them unladylike. I put that thought out of my mind as I really didn't have time to think about it right now. "I still don't believe you." Mrs. Graves was starting to sound like an endless loop. "I can't tell you the chapter and verse of the law, but Judy can. Why don't you call her and find out?" Jeez, this was turning into something little kids might do when fighting on a playground. You know, yelling "my daddy can whip your daddy" back and forth, or the old "is too, is not" routine. I was just about to escort her to the door when I remembered Danny's face and the utter dejection on it. I decided to try something else. "Look Mrs. Graves, do you remember how happy Danny was last night and this morning, and did you see how he looked when he went to pack his clothes?" "Danny's fine!" she almost yelled at me. The jump in her anger level made me wonder if this particular idea had been a good one. Since I didn't' think I had much to lose, I continued. "Do you know he's fine? Have you asked him or just told him? I brought home a bubbly happy kid and he doesn't look that way now–" "He's fine I tell you! I just need to keep him safe!" she interrupted me. Then she dissolved in tears. "I just need to keep him safe so he can grow up," she choked out, then sat there softly wailing, "He's all I've got," repeating it over and over in a broken sobbing voice. A memory flashed through my mind. One night when I was about eleven or twelve I'd overheard my folks talking. They thought I was in bed asleep and had been talking about a bike and fishing trip I wanted to take. It wasn't really very far, only an hour's ride, and my friends and I planned on fishing most of the day, but we would be gone all day. Dad had been telling Mom that she had to let me grow up, that she couldn't protect me all my life and that he thought I was old enough to go with my friends. I'd been headed for the kitchen to get a snack, but I just squatted down and listened to them. Mom was worried that we wouldn't watch the traffic, or that something might happen to one of us, or we might fall in and drown, and Dad kept telling her that we'd be fine. I couldn't really understand why she had been so worried because we were always careful when riding our bikes and the little creek wasn't really big enough to drown in, but Mom didn't seem to understand that. Dad kept talking and finally I heard Mom sigh and say she would let me go. I wanted to run in and hug them, but I didn't want them to know I'd been listening so I'd just slipped back to bed. The next morning at breakfast Mom told me that she and Dad had talked it over and I could go, and when she told me that there was a smile on her face. Now I realized that she was hurting inside, worrying about me, but at the time she had given no clue of that. With that thought, perhaps I now somewhat understood Mrs. Graves. I didn't know what to do with that knowledge, but at least I had some understanding of it. "Look, I think we both need to calm down and talk this over. Some of the guns are locked in the trailer and the rest are locked in my gun cabinet so they're pretty hard to get at. Now what I suggest is this, I've got some pot roasts cooking so why don't you stay for dinner? Judy will be home later this evening and you can talk to her. When we've both calmed down we can talk it over and you can decide what to do." About then another idea popped into my mind. "In fact, why don't I call Judy and see if she and her family will have dinner with us. She told me they were shopping and planned on eating out, but they might change those plans." It took a little more coaxing but I finally got her to agree. A quick call to Judy and I got razzed a little over bribing the social worker with food, but she agreed that they would come to dinner. So with that arranged it was time to go out and tell Danny that he could stop packing his clothes for now. Strange, when I opened the door all I could see was boy backsides retreating. If I hadn't known better I might have been forced to think they had been trying to eavesdrop on us, but since I knew the boys were snoopy little devils I was sure that was exactly what they had been doing. When the Smellings showed up Judy grabbed Kath and took her into my office while Art and I drank coffee and visited as I finished cooking dinner. While all that was going on the boys got a complete description of each and every new outfit Debbie had purchased, much to their annoyance. Both Art and I agreed that the boys didn't appear to care what clothes Debbie had picked out. I couldn't feel very sorry for them as I had listened to similar descriptions from them even when I had just finished paying for the clothes and knew very well what they looked like. However, I doubted that the boys would see the parallel. They could be amazingly dense at some times, and surprisingly perceptive at others. Art and I chuckled and agreed that this would probably be one of those amazingly dense times, and he said that Debbie was much the same. Kids seem to hear only what they want to hear. One amusing thing was that the boys kept looking at the office door. It was killing them that they couldn't hear what was going on. A boy would come out of the family room and walk slowly past the closed office door, then walk quickly into the kitchen and ask when dinner would be done. The return trip was just the same except said boy would start quickly back and then slow down when passing the door. I swear you could almost see their ears stretching towards the door. Their attempts at acting nonchalant were total failures as far as Art and I were concerned, and we kept giggling at them when they weren't within earshot. While I was laughing at the boys, I must confess I was just as curious although I was able to control myself a little better. I finally had to get busy on the salad just to keep my hands busy. I started dicing apples and celery for a Waldorf salad. I had decided to use a few red flame grapes in it because that way I would get to eat a few of them. Grapes and my boys seemed to have some sort of affinity for each other and no matter how many I bought, I rarely got many of them to eat. I'd had everything except the potatoes in the roaster when the Smellings had arrived, and had added them a few minutes after Judy and Kath had retired to the office so I didn't have much else to do except for the salad. All the time I was working on the salad, I was almost dying of curiosity. I wished I knew what was being said so I might cheer Danny up. He had been slumped on the couch in the family room the last time I'd checked and he looked like his world had ended, but until I knew how Judy was doing with Kath, there was nothing I could say to him. The boys had been trying to cheer him up, with no success, so all we could do was wait and hope that Judy could do something to improve the situation. Danny still didn't think of himself as being part of our family so that meant that the boys had little more to offer him other than their support and encouragement. So far such offers were not having much effect and until I know more there was little I could do to help him. Dinner was done cooking, but so far there had been no word as to how things were going in the office. I finally stuck my head through the door and asked when they would be ready to eat. Receiving a reply that it would be a while, I went and took the roaster out of the oven and removed the vegetables and put them in the other oven to keep warm. The roasts were done so I turned the oven down and returned them to the oven while Art and I continued visiting. Twenty minutes later I was about to go drag Judy and Kath out when they came out of the office on their own. When they did that I got busy and dished up the salad and made the gravy. Of course I had all the boy help I could use since there is something about hunger that seems to spur them into taking an active part in getting food on table, perhaps so they can get it in their stomachs more quickly. Neither Kath nor Judy offered any comments on what they had talked about and the boys seemed a little too shy to bring it up. Therefore, the dinner conversation was rather innocuous. Judy and Art did say that dinner was better than what they would have found in a restaurant, but that was about the only thing of note. The boys were dying of curiosity and so was I, but none of us were willing to bring the subject up, and so we just enjoyed dinner. No, make that the Smellings enjoyed dinner while the rest of us ate and wondered. The chuck roasts had turned out perfectly and everyone managed to put away quite a few groceries even if some of us weren't really paying much attention to what we ate. By the time we finished, the stew idea was a lost cause. I could have probably made enough stew for me and Dog, and maybe even a boy or two, but not for five hungry boys, six if Danny was here and counted. I knew Art had a good appetite, but was simply amazed at Debbie. She gave all the boys a good run for their money with regards to tucking away dinner. I was lucky that I had planned on the stew or there would never have been enough for the five extra people I'd had for dinner. Poor Danny just quietly ate his dinner and didn't look up and I felt so sorry for him. He had been all bouncy and happy this morning and now he was just dejected and quiet. He ate less than Mark even though he was almost three years older and quite a bit bigger. A few minutes after dinner Art and Judy said they had to leave so Debbie could get her new clothes ready to wear. Judy had been bright and bubbly ever since she and Kath came out of my office so I wasn't too worried, but the boys were just simply nervous wrecks and Danny looked like he was waiting for his execution. While the boys were picking up the dishes and loading the dishwasher, Kath and I retired to the office. Boy, I don't know what Judy said, but I want her on our side at the next contract negotiations with the school district. I mean Kath was a whole different person. She not only was willing to stay in a house with guns in it, she wanted to come to the gun club with us and see just what it was that we were doing. And yes, Danny was free to join us in shooting if he wished to. I also got a bunch of apologies for her behavior and promises that it wouldn't happen again if I would only give her another chance. She was talking so fast I had a hard time getting the words in that of course I would give her another chance, but when I finally got through to her that I was willing to do so, she broke down in tears again. Now I once again had the same problem I'd had this morning, that of where she would live. My house was big enough, but I thought she would be more comfortable with her own space to do with as she wished. Danny still looked somewhat depressed even after Kath told him to put his clothes back, but he did seem better than during dinner. As for my bunch, there was all kinds of whining over making sure their books and stuff were ready for school. So while the boys all bitched and whined about having to get ready for school on Monday, Kath and I ignored them and continued talking about how all this was going to work. Jeez, I hadn't realized just what I was getting into when I first entertained the idea of a housekeeper. It was apparent that we needed to plan this out, and that included everything from hours through meals. Things like how to handle household expenses, or who would do the cooking on which days, and so many other items I was soon lost in the details. The boys were sent to bed and we continued to hash things out. Household expenses were the easiest subject to deal with once we figured out how to handle it. Why we beat it around for so long before we figured out the solution I have no idea, but the simple solution was to set up a separate checking account and also have debit cards on it. That way either of us could access that account although I didn't plan on using it much. It was agreed that Kath would go to the bank and fill out all the paperwork to start such an account and deposit the check I would give her to get it started. We could then access that account online and put the purchases in their proper categories. Not only that, I would suddenly have some idea of just where the money was actually going rather than the way I had done it up till this point in time. About all I had done was deposit my checks in my checking account and spend money wherever I felt like. Big purchases had been drawn on my investment account's money market fund, and for the rest I wrote checks or used my debit card. If the checking account was getting low, I merely transferred some money from the investment account and continued on my merry way. In practice, most of the time the checking account built up so I used that money to make extra payments on the house and had only needed to transfer money to my checking account a couple of times. Children's Services checks for the boys had just been added to the checking account and everything had been working fine, but now Kath insisted that I would be better off to actually track my expenses and perhaps even make and follow a budget. While the idea sounded great, I wasn't all that sure it was necessary. Most of the time my major problem was what to do with money, not worrying about having enough of it. Anyhow, we kicked it around for a while and finally had some of the details worked out. It was now time to give her a check to get the whole thing started so I got online and took a peak in my checking account. I had a pretty good idea of what was in there, but wanted to make sure since I'd spent some money with the debit card last week and hadn't gotten all the entries made what with boys trying to drag me all over the place. I normally was quite a bit better at that, but they had been so excited that somehow that little job got lost in the rush. Kath about fell clear out of her chair when I handed her a check to start the account. I really couldn't see what she was so excited about because I wanted enough in the account to cover things until her fancy ideas on bookkeeping showed me what I needed to put in each month. Besides, I figured on paying all of the household expenses out of it so ten thousand sounded like a good starting point. We finally agreed to talk about it more at a later time, and then we both headed off to our respective beds. I was bushed, both from the trip and the emotional roller coaster ride type of day it had been. Monday was one of those days in which the students were restless. Having a week off had upset their schedules and the whole day was spent trying to get them back in the groove. Even with that, my thoughts of yesterday on the differences between boys and girls caused me to really pay attention to the students. I mean sure, I had always known there were differences, but now that I was actually looking for them what I discovered surprised me. The girls were somewhat calmer and more willing to sit and study while the boys were more rambunctious. That I allowed a certain amount of that rambunctiousness to spill over into my classes sometimes made them look a little chaotic, yet the kids all knew where the line was and that I would only tolerate a certain level of that behavior. However, trying to make the boys stay as quiet as the girls were willing to be only produced disinterest and resentment from them. The boys were also more willing to confront me, much like Marty had done over Pendinkio. Yet I could detect no real differences in intelligence, only broad differences in attitude and behavior. Girls tended to be much neater with their papers while I sometimes had to search to find the answers on the boys' papers, yet both came up with about the same number of correct answers. By the end of the day I was coming to a few conclusions. Boys tended to charge ahead, depending on skill or strength to succeed, while girls tended to be a little more thoughtful and sometimes even a little devious in trying to get their way. Yet there were broad overlaps. Some girls were much like boys in the way they acted, and there were also boys who acted much like girls in the way they approached their studies. While Marty's papers often looked like they had escaped from a paper shredder just short of total destruction, Joel Mattious turned in very neat papers. By the same token, Cindy Carmichael turned in papers that looked even worse than Marty's. Yet all received about the same grades because they were right about the same amount of the time. All were superior students and also popular with their classmates. In fact, you could just about pick out how the papers would look by their personalities. Cindy could best be described as a tomboy, while Joel was quite quiet and reserved. I wasn't really sure just what to make of those observations, only that they were interesting. Girls tended to be slightly more patient while boys tended to be more quickly bored. Yet when you got them interested, boys tended to be slightly more single minded or focused on a subject, stubbornly attacking it until they mastered it. However, getting them interested was somewhat more difficult. On the other hand, girls seemed to be able to think about more subjects at the same time, jumping back and forth between them with no apparent problem. That sometimes produced problems for me as it took me a few seconds to catch up with what they were now thinking and talking about. I wondered about some of my college courses in which there had been little attention paid to the fact that the two sexes reacted somewhat differently, and that made me wonder if political correctness had reared its ugly head and forced my professors to skip that subject, but I had no real way of knowing. I'd heard a few comments about girls being easier to teach, but I hadn't really found that to be the case. They were a little easier to get along with, but in the end I could see no real differences in their learning abilities, just that they seemed to think slightly differently. During my first year it had been somewhat easier for me to relate to and explain things to boys, I suppose because I was male, but by the end of the year I was learning how to interact with the girls and that pretty well took care of that problem. After that it was just kind of automatic and I never paid any attention to how I interacted with either sex, I just did. In fact, I acted more on their personalities rather than whether they were boys or girls. Some kids loved to tease and be teased, while others couldn't handle that very well. The biggest problem was figuring out how each student should be handled. Teasing a student who can't handle it is a surefire way to insure he dislikes you and will make it almost impossible to teach him anything, much less something as complicated as some of the math classes I taught. By the same token, it seemed to spur on students like Marty who appeared to thrive on it. He was continually looking for places where I had made an error, waiting to pounce. The level of concentration that took almost assured he would have no problem with the subject. After all, you can't find mistakes unless you know the subject. Then there were different levels of teasing. In some cases it needed to be restricted to just gentle chiding, while in a few cases you could get pretty clever with your verbal jabs. The class always perked up and paid attention when Marty and I got into one of those little verbal jousts, and even the ones who couldn't handle it themselves would look on with a longing, kind of like they wished they had the confidence to do what Marty was doing. However, even the girls had been restless today and I figured it would take a couple of days before everyone was settled in and back to normal. I was left thinking that there definitely were differences in the two sexes outside of the physical ones, but I wasn't sure just what that meant or that it made any difference. I did know that I didn't really understand girls and that I had to be careful or they could pull the wool over my eyes, where if boys tried the same thing I could see right through it. I suppose girls feel the same way about boys and probably complain that they can't understand them either. The whole thing sounded like a good subject for some morning when there wasn't anything else to kick around at the morning meeting, or maybe even one of those summer classes I'd been taking. Practice didn't go all that well as the kids couldn't seem to settle down and concentrate. There were considerably more than the usual whines and moans about the loosening up exercises and stretches. It had stopped raining so we practiced outdoors and at least I didn't have to contend with the girls' team diverting attention from what we were doing. It was hard to believe how much one week off had caused the team to forget all the times I had preached controlling their bats, and they were once again flailing at the ball, totally ignoring all I had tried to teach them. The pitchers were also trying to overthrow and that destroyed their control over where they placed the ball in relation to the strike zone. Oh well, we had a couple more days to get ready for the next game which would be our first game of the season which counted in league standings. The team was starting to get it back together by the time practice was over so I had hopes that by Thursday they would be back to where they had been before Spring Break. Dinner wasn't quite what I expected. It wasn't bad, just not very good. Kath needed some cooking lessons and I was left wondering when I would be able to work them in, and if I would be able to do so in a manner that wouldn't anger or upset her. Still, it was nice not to have to stop and brave Mrs. Downie and then rush home to feed my starving mob. In fact the boys didn't even have time to get their homework done before dinner, and it was only the fact that I hadn't assigned any homework for over the break that allowed me to be caught up. Our agreement last night had left us with Kath cooking during the week and me on the weekends. Maybe I could give a few cooking lessons on the weekends, teaching both Kath and the boys a little more about cooking. Just a little more seasoning would have made all the difference in the world to her cooking. She also needed a better grasp of the amount of food six boys could eat. There was just barely enough for dinner and I knew the boys would attempt to wear out the hinges out on the refrigerator door before the night was done, looking for leftovers that weren't there. While Danny plunged right into the food, I could see my boys were not attacking with quite their usual gusto, and there was a lot more passing of the salt and pepper than normal. Kath had some forms from the bank for me to sign, and she also had a handful of checks which she tried to share with me. I didn't need any of them and could wait until the personalized ones showed up, along with the debit cards. When I was finished with that I went into my office to catch up on some planning and student reviews I'd been meaning to do for a while. I was busily checking over a couple of student's grades when Corey and LT asked if I was busy. Since the reviews weren't something which had to be done immediately, I told them to come on in. "What's up guys?" "Umm, well–me and LT were talking, and we wondered if, well could you do something about her cooking?" Corey started out. "LT and I, not me and LT," I said. That correction was so old I was beginning to think I would wear the words out. "Also Mrs. Graves is not just a her. She has a name." I let them digest that for a few seconds before I continued. "I've been thinking about Mrs. Grave's cooking, and I know it's a little flat." There were a couple a snorts about that time telling me that they thought it was more than a little flat. I hurried on before any more snorts interrupted my train of thought. "Look guys, I don't like it any better than you do, but I think we need to be a little careful about how we handle this. You don't like it very well when someone tells you what you just did is terrible do you?" "But–but–just what can we do? Her cooking sucks," LT said, adding to my knowledge of how the boys were reacting to Kath's cooking. Sucks wasn't as bad as gross, and was only mildly critical. They had a system worked out to where they could describe things in words never intended for that purpose and you had to know the code. So far neither had mentioned barf so that meant they could stand eating it. They just didn't like it very well. "I'm not very happy with it either," I replied, "but how do you think we should solve the problem?" "Why can't you just tell her?" That was from Corey. He followed up, "You hired her so you can tell her what to do." "You're right Corey, I could just tell her what to do, but would that be the best way to handle it? You never seem very happy when I just tell you to do something. Perhaps she thinks she is a good cook. Would you like it if someone told you that something you'd worked on, say one of your paintings on which you'd spent a lot of time and effort and thought you'd done a pretty good job, was terrible? Some people are not as good at a specific task as others, but is it a good idea to just tell them they did a poor job?" "Umm, no." he replied. "Well guys, I think part of the problem is that Mrs. Graves doesn't really know how to cook. Apparently Danny is used to it because he dug right in and seemed to like it. I guess I'm asking you how to solve the problem, so do you have any ideas? I've got one but you may have better ones." "Well can't you just teach her?" asked LT. "Yes, I could do that, but think about it a little. How would you have liked it if I had insisted on teaching you how to ride a bike when you guys got your bikes?" "But I knew how to ride a bike," LT protested vigorously. "You didn't need to teach me." "Maybe Kath thinks she knows how to cook. Perhaps she'd feel the same way you would have if I'd insisted on teaching you to ride when you thought you already knew how." "Oh," was all the reply I got from him. "But we gotta do something, her cooking really sucks," Corey said. Now this was a little more serious because really sucks is quite a bit worse than sucks on the boys' scale. "Gotta?" I asked. "Where did you learn that word? At least Corey hung his head a little and looked somewhat sheepish at my chiding him about his language, but it didn't look like the boys were willing to let the matter drop. "The one idea I have requires your help. Are you guys willing to help, and do you think your brothers will go along with it?" I asked them. For quite a while we all had been referring to ourselves as a family and the boys as brothers, although the only actual brothers were Kyle and Mark. I got a bunch of head nodding so I continued. "I was thinking of maybe holding cooking classes on the weekends for you guys, and maybe we could get the lessons across to Kath without hurting her feelings too badly. Do you think that might work, and are you willing to have a few cooking lessons to see if it does?" I got some more head nods over that suggestion and they then decided they were going to go fix some popcorn, popcorn which had lots of butter and salt on it according to LT. Apparently they thought I had solved the problem and were now going to leave it to me. I hoped they were right. I had just finished up my office work and was just about to join everyone in the family room when Judy called, wanting to know how things were going. That took a while even though I really didn't have anything to tell her outside of it appeared to be going. I got quite a bit more background on Kath, along with Judy's description of her family and childhood. Some of the information was interesting and might help me smooth over the bumps, at least I hoped so. Probably the most important thing I learned was that Kath's family had been quite poor and her mother a horrible cook. Now all I had to do was get her to overcome the shock of having a little money, give her a few cooking lessons, and hopefully we would be off and running. I couldn't believe how much extra time I had since I hadn't had to do the cooking. I had everything almost caught up and it was not even time for bed. I really didn't know what to do with myself. A little checking around and I discovered Corey was in the darkroom doing something with the pictures he had taken at Disneyland and he had Danny with him; JJ and LT were in their room working on some science project; and Kyle and Mark were watching the tube. Well actually, they were sort of watching and mostly complaining there wasn't much on as they channel surfed. When I asked if they wanted to help load some shells, off we went to the reloading room to crank out some shotgun shells for Sunday. It was getting to where it took a gob of shells to keep five boys happy and now we would be adding another. For the next hour we worked away and got a case loaded. That was only twenty boxes so I figured we would have to make another effort later in the week, but it was a start. We were just finishing up when Kath stuck her head in, wondering what we were doing. Before it was over I had to get out some powder and take her and Danny out and show them that it wasn't an explosive. So far I'd had to go through that routine with every addition to the family, and I could see simple amazement in both their eyes when I poured a little out on the ground, threw a match on it and it just burned up and didn't explode. Shotgun powder is a pretty fast powder, so it burned in kind of a flash, but there was no bang. Still I was pleased to see that Kath was now at least willing to learn a little about firearms and shells and not just fly off the handle. I still wondered what Judy had said to her, but whatever it was had made a tremendous difference in her attitude. I knew that Judy was pretty good at convincing people and had four boys living with me as proof of that fact. She hadn't seemed to have much trouble convincing me to do what she wanted me to do. Danny was all excited about watching Corey develop and print a few pictures. Corey grinned and said he spent more time showing Danny how it all worked than accomplishing anything, but Danny was just bubbling over once again. Between watching the powder demonstration, and the developing and printing demonstration, he was suddenly again talking a mile a minute. He had been so fascinated with the pictures that I'd almost had to drag him out of the darkroom for the powder demonstration, but now he couldn't seem to shut up about either. The next thing I knew we were out in the shop going through some boxes and looking for Kath's camera. I was surprised to learn she also had a Pentax so all my 35-millimeter lenses would work on it. She only had the lens that had come with the camera, and I learned that the camera had been her husband's and she'd never used it. It was actually a newer camera than mine, but it was also an auto focus model. It needed a new battery so we couldn't see if it functioned, but since Danny was so excited about the idea if taking and developing pictures I knew one of us would have to stop tomorrow and pick up a battery. That was followed by the thought that I needed to check my film supply and see if I should order more. A quick look in the freezer and I decided I had plenty for now. After I had worked enough with Corey to where he was somewhat competent in the darkroom, he frequently went down there by himself and worked on pictures he had taken to use with his painting. He didn't really worry about how good a picture he took, only that he captured an image he could work from. For me it was different, as I tried for better photographs knowing that what I snapped would be pretty much what I got. While you can improve things in the darkroom, you can only go so far while an artist can go a lot further. That meant that Corey could just blaze away, snapping anything that caught his fancy and then take parts of two or more pictures and put them together in a sketch, and sometimes go ahead and paint a picture from that sketch. He was happy that Kath had now moved downstairs so he could have his room back for his painting. While the basement wasn't ideal for them, having her and Danny downstairs provided them a little more privacy. I needed to see what could be done about the housing situation, but I just hadn't had time since my deal on the one house had gone south. I thought it would be handy for her to live close by, but knew of no house close to mine which I thought might be available. I was still far behind on completing things like getting a medical plan for her and Danny, and her retirement account set up. I still needed to talk more with my accountant and get the withholding and everything else organized. This was turning into a lot bigger deal than I'd realized when it was first suggested. I was left thinking how much simpler life had been before Corey. Sure life had been simpler, but there had been a loneliness in me that I hadn't even realized existed. Now I didn't have time to be lonely. Still, the changes one boy had wrought in my life were amazing. At first I'd felt sorry for him and simply tried to make his life a little better, but then I had really fallen for him. Yet for all the changes, Corey was still my central focus. I was having a ball playing father to all the boys, but it was when I was in bed with Corey snuggled up beside me that a deep contentment and satisfaction seemed to settle over me. For all the problems that had happened this year, I couldn't remember ever being so happy. I had always put on a happy front when growing up, but the unsettled state of my orientation had left me worried and somewhat sad inside. Now that sadness was gone, and instead I knew that all I really wanted to do was spend the rest of my life loving Corey. There were so many things I admired about him that I couldn't even list them all. Some were just little things, much like tonight when he had spent his time showing Danny how to develop and print pictures when he likely would have rather just worked on his pictures without any interruptions. Another reason was his willingness to try to help people to the best of his ability. I couldn't figure out where he had come by that trait as I doubted that his mother had taught it to him. Another reason was how hard he had tried to make JJ and LT, and now the other boys, feel comfortable once he had understood they were not taking his place. Such things made me so proud of him and made me love him even more. I liked his wicked sense of humor that had cropped up once he had started to become comfortable around me, and he continually kept me on my toes wondering what kind of joke he would pull on me next. He was never vicious, just funny, although sometimes it took a few seconds to get the jokes because he would sneak them in so slyly. Yet through it all he was somewhat shy and retiring. To watch him for a short while, you would never realize that when it came to the household and the other boys, Corey was their leader. He never really seemed to exert any influence, yet he was the one the other boys turned to when they wanted to know what their chances of getting me to allow them to do something was, and he was rarely wrong. That wasn't because I would cut him more slack than the others, only that he had a very good grasp of what was permissible or acceptable. In fact, I sometimes thought he could do just as good a job of looking out for them as I could. Watching him while Danny chattered on about learning about photography, I could see a soft smile on his face and he was really enjoying Danny's enthusiasm. While he enjoyed playing with the other boys, it was sometimes almost like he thought of himself as one of their parents and that he needed to watch over them and help and protect them. Sure, there were lots of times when he was pure boy, but even then he sort of watched over them. I think Danny about wore Kath's ears out before she finally decided he needed to go to bed. It was a little past bedtime, but even so there was the normal amount of complaining before boys headed off for bed. The complaining was more of a ritual with each of us playing our respective parts. I mean really, they were going to complain, and I and now Kath were going to say no, and they would keep complaining as they headed off for bed. It had only taken Danny one evening until he fit right in, doing just the right amount of complaining and never taking it too far. I knew there would be a few last checks of the refrigerator, and some whining about nothing good to eat, but soon they would be in bed. Even Dog had it figured out as he would come over and say goodnight as the boys were complaining, and then would follow JJ and LT to their room. However, he still hadn't figured out just how much extra time he had to allow for saying goodnight to Kath, and so he had to trot to catch up with JJ and LT. Soon there was a steady stream of brief or boxer clad boys peering in the fridge door and then once again retreating to bed. I went around checking the doors and turning off lights and soon we were once again closed up for the night. I did spend a few minutes talking with Kath about quantities of food necessary for that many boys and she just said she knew Danny ate a lot, but couldn't believe how much it took for that many boys. I had a hunch that tomorrow night there would be no shortage of food. Tonight had produced no leftovers, and while I don't think it would have taken much more, the meal had been just a little shy. With that covered, it was time to go to bed. Kath and I still had much to work out, but it would not be all done in one evening. I wondered how most couples handled things, that is if you could consider Corey and me a couple. As it was, Corey and I always seemed to have a few things we talked over when we were snuggled up in bed and tonight was no exception. Corey was still talking about Kath's cooking and was convinced that we really needed to help her with it. I pointed out that we needed to be very careful about how we handled it, and that ninety-nine per cent of the problem was the lack of seasoning. I also told him that he needed to talk with JJ, Kyle, and Mark so they understood just what we were doing and why. He agreed that hurting her feeling would only make it more difficult. Like most evenings, any subject we started on soon turned into a little broader discussion, and soon we were talking about how you encourage people by praising their successes while gently trying to help them overcome their weaknesses. Right in the middle of that discussion he floored me with the correct observation that that was how I appeared to approach teaching. He was right, although I would add most people can learn anything they put their minds to, and a teacher's job is to make the subject interesting enough to make the student want to learn it. We kicked that subject around a little and he agreed that he would get Kyle and Mark aside and tell them the object of the cooking classes we would hold on weekends. He told me that LT would likely tell JJ, and he was probably right. What Corey hadn't grasped was that there were two goals for the cooking class and he was concentrating on the first one. He thought it would be all about teaching Kath to cook without hurting her feelings, and I didn't bother to tell him that the other part was that I thought everyone needed to know how to cook enough to at least be able to feed themselves, and so it was also about the boys learning to cook. Most of my classroom teaching was along the same line. While I had to cover the things in the text that was only part of what I tried to do, and a lesser part at that. For each new concept I introduced I tried to come up with a short discussion that would show the kids why they needed to know what I was going to teach them. It really doesn't make any difference what subject you teach, the object is to make your students think and figure things out. If you are only interested in covering the material in the text, then you are doing your students a real disservice. No matter what concept I brought up I tried to have examples ready to show them why they needed to know it. It could be something as simple as how to increase the size of a recipe by fifty percent or how to figure out how much anti-freeze they needed to add to their radiators, or even understand something about statistics so they would comprehend what made political polling possible. I always tried to use examples that they would be familiar with and some of those had been drawn from the major industry in the area, which was lumbering, to current events that were in the news which their parents might have talked about. I also tried to make myself knowledgeable enough on each student's family to where I could ask them to find out things from their family that would apply, such as how many board feet of lumber were in a load of logs, and then would show them how that applied to the amount of lumber in an average house. Kids are much more inclined to pay attention if they can see a reason for knowing how to do something than they are when they cannot. If we worked the cooking lessons right, we could get Kath interested and sneak the lessons in without her realizing what we were doing. While I'd taught the boys a little food prep, such as how to dice things, so far we had never gotten very far into seasoning and that was what Kath needed. I explained that I thought I would have the boys cook something without any advice on seasoning, and then have Kath and myself taste it, along with all the boys, to see what it needed, We would then discuss what they needed to add to make it taste right. My experience told me that most recipes are only a starting point, and that frequently they needed a little tweaking to make them really good. It might be something as simple as just a little more salt, or some recipes needed a lot of spices not even mentioned in the original recipe. In this class we were going to work on what spices go best in what foods and how much to use. My hope was that Kath would get the message without us having to actually tell her, and Corey thought that might work. We would just have to try it and see. Even if it didn't work with Kath, at least the boys would be better able to feed themselves should they need to. There were nights when we played around, and then there were nights like tonight in which we just cuddled and talked quietly. Perhaps the really odd thing was that I think both of us really liked the talking and cuddling evenings. Of course sometimes we played around and then talked, or talked and then played around, but somehow these quite ones were special. Conversations could go anywhere and cover anything, and sometimes dreams were talked about. Not the kind of dreams a person has when asleep, but the dreams you have about what might happen in your future. At first Corey had been reluctant to talk much about his future, but as time had gone on he was starting to realize that he had a future. Some nights were sad, like when we talked about his mother, and others were joyful, like when we had talked about going to Disneyland or his art. Sometimes the conversations were silly and sometimes they were serious, but we both seemed to really enjoy them. Yet sometimes after we had finished and Corey was sleeping, I was overcome with sadness. Mostly that sadness stemmed from the fact that there were many children like Corey, children trapped in a situation in which there was little way to break out, worrying more about survival than what the future might hold and how much fun they could have exploring it. It was times like that when I knew I had been lucky in my life. I'd had two parents who had loved me, and while they hadn't given me everything I'd asked for, they had given me everything I really needed, plus they had given me something much more precious. They had paid attention to me and helped me grow up. While both had worked, still they were willing to give me their time. They had spent many hours trying to explain and teach me what it took to be a good person. We all fail at that on occasion, but when we do we just have to recognize our failure and try not to make the same mistake again. Sometimes, if we're lucky, we can fix a mistake, but other times we just have to live with it. And then there were nights like tonight. After Corey had drifted off to sleep I worried was I doing the right thing. Many things I was pretty sure I was doing right, but the big thing I was undecided on, and of course that big thing was how would our relationship affect his growing up? On nights like this I had come to know what it was I really wanted, and that was an adult Corey to share my life. I really loved the boy Corey, but was confident that the adult Corey would be much better. The reason I was so confident was that Corey had a strength to him none of the other boys had. Where he had developed it I didn't know. Perhaps his mother had instilled it before she developed her drug problem. Maybe it was just something that was part of him. Yet a nagging worry was there. I wondered if our relationship would hinder his growth. Would it stop him from developing into a confident adult, able to make his own decisions and function independently of me? That wasn't what I wanted. He had to be capable of understanding what it was he wanted and then be willing to go after it. If he didn't achieve that, then he would always remain the boy Corey. I just couldn't decide on an answer to the big question. It is so hard to see what the effects of an action will be many years in the future. Would my life have been different had I not talked with Mr. Franklin that morning when he was so upset over the death of his student? Sometimes little ripples on the waters of life start big waves, and something that seems insignificant at the time has a major impact. And so I worried, as I had done on many nights, about whether or not I was doing the right thing for Corey. I finally fell asleep with the thoughts of how great life would be when he grew up. Since I enjoyed the boy in him so much I was in no hurry for that to happen. He needed to have fun and learn the lessons of childhood to become the man I thought he would grow into. Now was a time for fun, for stretching his wings and trying while I was in the background able to catch him if he reached too far or tried to fly too high. Only by trying those things, that all kids try, would he be able to fully grow up. Only through that trying could he develop the confidence and judgment that would help him to be an adult in thought and deed, not just in years. Growing up is not an event measured by some calendar, but rather a process in which the individual slowly learns all those things necessary to become a stable and productive member of society. It is all those lessons that temper his judgment and allow him to make the right decision. Corey deserved the time to learn those things. Well Tuesday was one of those days when I would have been better off to stay in bed. It didn't start badly, in fact I managed to get a little vanilla and some nutmeg in the French toast batter and they boys inhaled it just like normal, and it was even easier to do than I had thought. I just commented that they liked it that way and Kath had no problems with it and told me she would remember. It was at school where everything went to pieces. First period was when it all started. Andrea Jordan was moving poorly and acted like sitting was very uncomfortable. She said she had fallen and bruised herself. I might have accepted that except this wasn't the first time she'd had this sort of problem and it seemed a little too often to me, so I asked to speak with her after the class for a couple of minutes. She got kind of a trapped look and suddenly I was suspicious. Now kids are always getting banged up, but it seemed to be happening to Andrea way too often, particularly since she didn't appear any more clumsy than most, and while somewhat of a tomboy, she still was not one whom I thought would be rambunctious enough to be getting hurt that often. The next thing I knew we had Nurse Kostic come over from the grade school to check and see if the injuries were something that needed a doctor's attention. Andrea was getting even more upset over the whole thing and warning bells were ringing all through my mind. Those warning bells were right, and soon the police and Judy were there checking out what Nurse Kostic flatly stated was child abuse. Like a lot of abused kids Andrea wasn't willing to say who had beaten her, but that wasn't my problem right then. That was something the police and Judy would have to get sorted out. Instead I was upset that kids felt they had to put up with that kind of treatment and would try to shield the abuser. We had just gotten that somewhat straightened out when Jerry popped in and asked to talk to me a minute. He wanted to know what was going on in Sacramento that would have the legislature calling and asking if I could be spared to testify before one of their committee hearings on education. What he really wanted to know is how I had managed to get mixed up in something like that, and I had to tell him I had absolutely no idea. I had never written letters to them, nor was I active in the teachers union so the whole thing puzzled me. Anyhow, he told me that he had made arrangements for me to have next Monday off so I could drive down and testify and that left me wondering just what it was they wanted to ask me. All Jerry could offer was a time and meeting room number so I got no answers from him. That made another thing that was now on my mind. People say things happen in 3's, and today proved them right. Shortly after lunch there was a call for me regarding the upcoming trial of Les Jamison, Rev. Langston, and the others involved with the bombing of my first Gator. The trial date had been moved up, owing to a case being settled out of court, and was now supposed to start next week. Of course this was after it had been delayed several times by the defense lawyers. At least it wasn't scheduled to start on Monday, but instead it was supposed to start on Thursday which was bad because the team had a baseball game scheduled that day. Next week was looking like a disaster what with going to Sacramento on Monday, JJ's birthday on Wednesday, and a trial and a baseball game on Thursday. At the rate it was going I was pretty sure some other things would crop up to interfere with and occupy any free minutes I might happen to have. I'd been sort of hoping for a few easy weeks to get rested up from Disneyland, but it didn't look like it was working out that way. Anyhow, the D.A. wanted me to come in sometime this week so he could go over my part in the upcoming trial. We agreed that I would stop over tomorrow before lunch as I had third period off on Wednesdays and if the meeting ran a little long I could use my lunch break. Jeez, it seemed like no matter how I tried there was always something happening to upset my routine. I had no more than gotten that settled when both the policeman and Judy tracked me down wanting more information about Andrea Jordan. I couldn't tell them much except that I had noticed her being sore a couple of other times. For the most part she was a nice, but somewhat quiet young lady who almost always had her homework done and rarely caused any problems. Jerry was stuck filling in for me in class while I answered their questions. The problem was that as the questioning went along I didn't like what I was learning. In order to get information they were letting some things slip and it soon became apparent that yes, Andrea had been beaten, and the worst part was the reason. She had been sticking up for me to her father who was one of Rev. Langston's followers. After much talking and checking of records, we pretty well figured out that one of the beatings had occurred just after Rev. Langston's first trial for organizing the window breaking and phone call episode. We couldn't determine any reason for the other time I remembered, and I only remembered it because of the fact that she had been out of school for a couple of days. I was left feeling horrible that I hadn't picked up on it sooner. Yet I just didn't see how I could have done that. With some kids it might have been easier, but Andrea, although quiet, was somewhat of a tomboy and was always joining in with boys in some of their games. She was a pretty good basketball player and had taught more than one boy not to take her lightly on the court. She didn't say all that much, but instead was more prone to prove herself with actions and so that made her one that might be expected to do something where she might occasionally hurt herself. Her explanations had always seemed pretty straightforward and believable so I had bought them. I was left wishing she had said something and given me a chance to help. No kid needs or deserves to be beaten. While I could remember getting a few swats from the folks, as soon as I got old enough for them to reason with they had switched to other less physical punishments. I could even remember a few times I would have willingly traded a few swats for what they did come up with for punishments. Those swats had only stung a little, and it was more the fact that I had angered them than the actual punishment that had accomplished what they wanted. The other thought that went through my mind was that I must have about driven my parents nuts at times. Until I was about fifteen or sixteen it seemed like I was always in trouble. Most of those troubles were from forgetting to tell them when I would be home, or getting home late, or forgetting to do my chores, things like that. I hadn't really been a bad kid, just forgetful about following rules or doing chores, the same things that I found my boys doing. I was beginning to think that was pretty typical kid behavior and I found myself nagging the boys much as my parents had nagged me. The last time I could remember Dad laying a hand on me was when I was about five years old and I had defied him. Needless to say I learned that wasn't a very good idea. However, the real thing that stuck in my mind about that incident was not getting dinner until long after dinner time, and not getting ice cream when Dad and Mom had a bowl. Since there was no lasting pain from the spanking, not getting the ice cream hurt the worst. I could remember vowing to myself that I was never going to do anything again which might stop me from having ice cream. Yet Andrea had been beaten, not spanked, but beaten. No matter how I tried I just couldn't understand something like that. How could any parent think it was his right to beat his child until she could barely sit the following day? For that matter, why had she stuck up for me to where he would do something like that? The whole thing left me depressed and somewhat angry. Andrea was a nice girl and didn't deserve such treatment. I'd never had a minute's trouble with her and when I asked her to do something, she was always quick to comply. About the only thing in her personality that would even suggest such a thing was a dogged determination in her studies. She was always unwilling to give up until she understood it and got it right. While she wasn't the best student in the school, she was easily in the top fifteen percent, maybe a little higher. I was left wondering if maybe I had a hard time believing her father would beat her because I just never saw anything in her that I thought might create a problem. In fact if I had a daughter, I would be more than happy to have one just like her. They finally finished questioning me and I got back to class. As I was leaving Judy and Officer Wrangle, they were talking about which of the other teachers they wanted to question next. Somehow the whole incident had put a damper on my spirits for the day and I was more than glad when classes were finally over and I could get on with practice. Practice went real well, and it was almost like Spring Break had never happened. The players were once again paying attention and working hard, almost as hard as before the break. If all of last year's starters hadn't gone on to high school I would probably have had a much better team, but we were seriously lacking in experience. My predecessor had not used as many players as I always liked to use with the football team, so I had to bring along a whole new crop of starters. They were improving and hopefully would continue to do so. The only thing was I was pretty sure the other teams were improving also, and I wondered if we could catch up. While not every player had played in both of our exhibition games, they had all played at least an inning in one of them. I was a firm believer that all kids deserved a chance, and that the team would be better off for that experience. For example, it would mean that if I continued coaching the baseball team I would never be stuck with not having any players with much game experience. Granted that there are always some kids who are athletically better than others and those kids will get more playing time, but all team members should receive some playing time and that helps the team in future years. I was a firm believer in the theory that today's backup player can be tomorrow's starter. Besides, all the kids needed to feel that their work was worthwhile and that they all had a chance. Dinner was a little disappointing. Certainly there is nothing wrong with macaroni and cheese, but not as pretty much the whole meal. Adding a salad to macaroni and cheese does not a dinner make, at least not in my opinion, and from their expressions the boys felt about the same way. My bunch kept looking around to see where the rest of the dinner was. As for the macaroni and cheese itself, adding some Velveeta to macaroni just isn't my idea of good macaroni and cheese either. I wasn't looking forward to it but I was going to have to take the bull by the horns and see if there wasn't some way to get the whole cooking thing under control. While the boys might become used to eating like that, I was not willing to do so, and that left me trying to figure out just how to keep from hurting Kath's feelings and yet still improve the meals. There were too many days left before any cooking class so I needed to do something right away. It only got worse after dinner when the boys started picking up the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen and Kath told them not to bother, she would take care of it. Now it wasn't that I minded her doing the work, but the boys all needed chores of some kind, and cleaning up the kitchen and loading the dishwasher were some of the ones that I had come up with for them. They had whined at first, but had pretty well given up on that when they saw I wasn't going to yield on the issue. I understood their gripes, and even remembered making many of the same arguments to my parents, but my parents had been just as unyielding as I was now being. So it was off to the office to talk things over with Kath again and try to get the situation straightened out. The boys had grinned when Kath told them not to bother with the dishes, but those grins had disappeared with my glare and I didn't even have to tell them to continue with their task while I talked with Kath. I started on the chore bit, and I really didn't get that much of an argument. Kath did try to argue that since I was paying her she felt that she needed to earn her money, but soon gave way to the argument that the boys needed chores in order to learn that they needed to contribute their part to the family, and also to learn some work habits and responsibility. After we kicked that around a little, she finally acquiesced that the boys would continue to clean up after meals and keep their rooms clean. While they weren't known for doing a real great job of keeping their rooms clean, I periodically made them really clean them and they knew that bedding had to be changed at least once a week and that I wouldn't tolerate having dirty clothes all over the floor. Throwing LT's favorite jacket in the garbage had pretty well convinced them on the pickup bit, and even though he had managed to rescue it before it was hauled off, the used coffee grounds I'd dumped on top of it meant he was without it for a couple of days. He also had to pay for dry-cleaning it out of his allowance. You might even say it was almost amazing how much better things were picked up after that little episode. Clothes might get tossed on the bed, or hung on the bedpost, but they were never dropped on the floor after that. That same treatment had also worked on leaving shoes scattered all over the house, and Corey had quickly learned that shoes did not belong in the family room or living room unless they were on feet. I wasn't a neat freak, so I was willing to overlook beds not being made, or a little dust on the furniture, but I did insist that the covers be sort of put back into place. After we got that straightened out I was forced to confront the food issue. Thank God I did. Kath had been planning on tuna casserole for dinner tomorrow night, a simply ghastly dish no matter who cooks it or how hard they try to make it edible. Tuna casserole was one of those things I remembered hating for as long as I could remember, and Mom used to occasionally try to get me to eat some of it. She finally got the message when I quit complaining but just refused eat it. I got some static for a while, but she finally gave up. I suppose if I was starving I would eat one, but that is the only time unless I was trapped, like being a guest at someone's home when they served one. As far as I was concerned, the word abhorrent could be simply defined in all dictionaries by merely substituting the words tuna casserole for the usual definition. No further words or definitions would be necessary. At least the dinner after Mrs. Babcock's funeral had gotten rid of the couple that had been brought over and I didn't have to eat any of them, as if I would have anyway. We had just gotten started on the whole food subject when the phone rang. Judy called me up to give me the latest updates on Andrea which I'd asked her to do. That interrupted things for a while as Judy explained that Andrea was being removed from her father's custody, at least temporarily. What I wasn't prepared for was when she asked me if Andrea could stay with me for a couple of days while she figured out just where to put her. She apologized, saying she and Art were having some remodeling done and for the rest of the week their whole family was going to be in sleeping bags in the living room, and there simply were no other beds available as the only group home within reasonable distance was already out of space. While I'd known about the remodeling, I hadn't realized it was going to be quite that extensive. A little more discussion on the subject and I offered them the use of the trailer until their house was a little more under control. That took even more discussion as she said they didn't have any place to park it because of the construction equipment filling all the available parking area. We worked out a compromise where she agreed to use the trailer and it could stay in the shop. There was a small bathroom built into the shop, and both power and water to hook to the trailer so it appeared like that might be a workable solution. Once that was decided, I had to get busy and make sure that all the bedding and stuff was back in its place in the trailer, so the food conversation with Kath was delayed. The clincher for Judy had been my assurance that there was not only the queen-sized main bed, but also two other beds that could be made up so Andrea could stay with them until something else could be worked out. I did learn that the contractor had promised that their bedrooms would be usable by Friday night so it should only be three nights that the Smellings would need the trailer. With all that talking and getting the trailer ready, I didn't have time to get back to the food issue. About all I had time for was to tell Kath I would do the cooking tomorrow night and not to worry about it. She didn't act real happy with that, but too many other things were happening for me to take time to explain it any better. Besides, I was wimping out as I still hadn't figured out just how to handle the whole thing. I knew I could just tell her how it had to be since I had hired her, but I was hoping to come up with a less confrontational or authoritarian manner in which to present it. I would much rather handle it in a way that didn't bruise any feelings. To be continued... Back to cooking class. Be warned that reading recipes might make you hungry. Anyhow, pot roast is the subject and nothing could be easier. However, it does take some time to cook a good pot roast. First you need a pot roast. I personally think chuck roasts make the best pot roasts. Get a big one because you can make a stew out of the leftovers. Now if the pot roast is big you will probably need to use a roaster, but somewhat smaller ones can be cooked in a dutch oven. Turn the oven up to three-fifty and let it warm up while you brown your pot roast. Take your roaster or dutch oven and put it on top of the stove, turn the burner on high, and when hot, add a couple tablespoons of oil of some kind. Then brown your pot roast well on as many sides as you can. With a flat type roast, like a 7 bone chuck, you will only be able to brown the two sides, but other shapes may allow you to brown it all over. Once you have browned it nicely it is time for the liquid. While you can use water, I like using something that adds to the flavor a little, so what I do is get some packages of Au Jus mix at the store. I use quite a bit of Au Jus mix and so buy it in large containers at places like Costco, but a couple of packages from the market will do the job. A typical package makes 2 cups of Au Jus, but for this I mix it about half strength and so a package will make four cups of liquid. That may be enough for your pan or it may take both packages to make enough. You can use a little more liquid and make it third strength so don't really worry about it. To that Au Jus mix I add one half of a medium yellow onion per package of Au Jus mix. So if you can get by with one package, use ˝ an onion. Then depending on how well you like garlic, add a couple or more peeled cloves and throw both the onion and garlic in a food processor and let it run until you can pour the garlic onion mix into the Au Jus. I like garlic and it is going to cook for a long time so I will use five or six nice sized cloves. Grind a bunch of black pepper into the mix and add a few glug's of red wine, like a third to a half cup or thereabouts per package of Au Jus. The last thing is add a two or three tablespoons of sugar to the mix depending on if you used one or two packages of the mix. For one package I only use two scant tablespoons, and for two packages of Au Jus, three, or even sometimes four if I need a lot of liquid. You want enough liquid to come up to at least the middle of the pot roast and two-thirds is even better. Pour the liquid over the pot roast, put the cover on and pop it in the oven. Let it cook for a half hour or so at three-fifty and then turn the oven down to three hundred or so. You can cook it at three hundred the whole time but it will take a little longer, or you can bring it up to a boil on the top of the stove and just use a three hundred degree oven. You can even cook it at three-fifty the whole time but you will have to add more liquid if you do. Once it is all in the pan, you only add water, not more of the Au Jus mix. Since the Au Jus has salt in it you won't need to add any salt at this time. However, you can add various spices if you'd like. I frequently add about a tablespoon of dried basil, a scant teaspoon of thyme, a heaping teaspoon of marjoram, and sometime some cayenne, like about a teaspoon if I decide I'd like a little bite to it. You can also use some paprika or whatever turns your crank. You are going to cook the sucker for two to three hours depending on the size and shape. A somewhat thin flat one will take a little over two hours and thick ones longer. Anyhow, about every half hour or so turn the pot roast over, adding water as needed to keep the liquid level up. To get your pot roast nice and tender you have to get its internal temperature up to boiling and then keep it there for about an hour. If you do that your pot roast will be nice and tender and you can even chew the gristle. I normally try to buy thick pot roasts so they usually take about three hours to cook. About forty-five minutes before it is supposed to be done I add a bunch of baby peeled carrots and a package of frozen boiling onions to the liquid. Since I like carrots cooked in the liquid I add a pretty big bunch of them, but suit yourself. If you don't like carrots, don't use them. About a half hour before it is done add some potatoes peeled and cut in half lengthwise. When the roast is cooked and nice and tender, remove the vegetables and the roast. Thicken the liquid for gravy and there you have it, pot roast with vegetables. I thicken with a flour-water mixture but you can also use cornstarch or other thickeners. Be sure to check the gravy and add any necessary salt and pepper, although it shouldn't require much salt. You can add all kinds of things to your pot roast, such as mushrooms, celery, turnips, rutabaga, or about anything you like and think would go well. A lot of people like to add some cabbage wedges but I don't really care for cooked cabbage so I don't. I also don't add turnips because I don't like cooked turnips. Instead I eat my turnips raw. I occasionally throw some Brussels sprouts in if I have them, and the mushrooms are a frequent addition. For Brussels sprouts I add them at the same time I add the carrots and onions, and the mushrooms I add them when I add the potatoes. I serve the pot roast on a platter, the potatoes in one serving bowl, the rest of the vegetables in another, and the gravy in third bowl or gravy boat. While it might not be the most attractive meal in the world, it is mighty fine eating. Waldorf salad, in its original form, was nothing more than diced apples, diced celery, and mayonnaise. Sometime in about the 1920's walnuts were added and have been there every since, including at the Waldorf Hotel. Some people add a lot of other things to it, but about all I ever add are some grapes, and I really dislike it when someone adds miniature marshmallows. However, some people appear to like it that way, just not me. Anyhow it is nice and easy to make. Take some good eating apples and core and dice them into about a half-inch dice, maybe slightly smaller. Don't peal them, just core them and hack them up. Wash some ribs of celery and dice it in about the same size pieces. Red apples look a little better so I generally use something like Gala, Fuji, Macintosh, or something on that order, and sometimes I use a mix of apples, like a few golden delicious added to the red ones. I also squeeze the juice of half a lemon over the diced apples and toss them to keep them from them turning brown, but if the apples are pretty tart, you may wish to skip that step. If you don't use lemon juice, fix the apples last so they don't turn brown while dicing the celery. If I add grapes to it I always cut the grapes in half. Your proportions are two cups diced apples, about one and one half cups diced celery, one cup of grapes cut into two pieces, a half cup of coarsely chopped walnuts, or you can use pecans but I like the walnuts better, and about two-thirds cup of mayonnaise. You need enough mayonnaise to coat everything. If your apples are too tart, sprinkle just a little sugar over them, along with the lemon juice, and let stand for twenty minutes or so in the refrigerator before assembling the salad, but that shouldn't be necessary unless using very tart apples. Be sure to drain any liquid that might run out of the apples if you put sugar on them. You shouldn't need much over a tablespoon or so of sugar for that, and you should only need about the juice of a half lemon, like a couple of teaspoons or so. You can also use a product such as Fruit-Fresh in place of the lemon juice. For Fruit-Fresh or even with lemon juice you can mix it with water, dip your diced apples in it, and then drain well. To assemble the salad, toss everything together, adding a little more mayonnaise if needed, to coat everything. To serve, take a salad plate, put a big lettuce leaf on it, and spoon a serving of the salad onto the leaf. Some people sprinkle a few additional chopped walnuts on to make it look nice, and some people add a maraschino cherry to the top for similar reasons. I must admit that the cherry looks nice, but the dang things are just sweet and tasteless. My thought is that the maraschino cherries are better used in cocktails. For some reason a little gin seems to improve those cherries a whole bunch, and even bourbon or rum really helps them, so I never put maraschino cherries on my Waldorf salad, but instead use them in cocktails. If you use a product such as Fruit-Fresh to keep your apples from browning, you can dice the apples several hours in advance. You can also use a vitamin C tablet dissolved in some water in place of lemon juice or Fruit-Fresh with about the same results. Such treatments also work well on avocados and bananas, and other fruits that turn dark. If I'm preparing the salad several hours in advance I will use the dipping method to make sure that all surfaces of the diced apple have been treated. If using lemon juice, that will require more lemon juice than if just drizzling it over the diced apples and tossing. After a quick dip I drain and then put them in a container with several layers of paper towels on the bottom to absorb any moisture that didn't drain off and store them in the fridge until dinner. While you can prepare everything in advance, the salad is best when assembled shortly before eating. If I'm entertaining I will dice everything in the afternoon, but won't assemble the salad until twenty minutes or less before serving. If you assemble the salad too soon the walnuts tend to become soggy and the mayonnaise runny. I have also been known to garnish it with a few small cubes of sharp cheddar cheese which I like very well, and the cheese has a much better flavor than those tasteless cherries. Lastly, take any leftover pot roast and cut into bite sized pieces and do the same with the potatoes and anything else that might need it. If I don't happen to have any boiling onions on hand, I just take regular yellow onions and peel and quarter them and treat them like the boiling onions when cooking the pot roast, so you might have to break the onions apart a little if you used that kind. Put everything, including the gravy back in a kettle and you have your stew for the second night. Just heat and serve. Some good French bread or sourdough French bread and butter go well with either, along with a red wine. I would serve a Syrah, a Pinot Noir, or a Cabernet Sauvignon with either the pot roast or stew. And yes, some people label their Syrah as Shiraz. Australia makes some excellent Shirazes at very reasonable prices, fully as good as the California or French ones in my arrogant opinion.