Date: Tue, 7 Mar 2017 18:04:11 +0000
From: Douglas DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aiden  Chapter 36

Welcome back. Thanks for your patience in waiting for this chapter. I am
home for a few weeks before traveling again. I will try to get out a couple of
chapters a week until I leave.

In this chapter, Aiden learns some hard lessons.

Thanks for the emails you have sent. I always appreciate receiving them.
They are the payment we amateurs get for our writing.

Right now would be a great time to support the Nifty Archive with a
contribution.

CHAPTER 36
I AM THE GREATEST

Aiden stirred when the alarm went off. He looked at the time on the clock
that was situated on Phil's nightstand. It read 6:00, which he knew was
later than Phil usually woke up.

He watched Phil rise from the bed, toss his boxer shorts into his hamper
after peeling them off, and move quietly to the bathroom. After hearing the
toilet flush and the shower come on, he rose out of bed and went into the
bathroom. Phil was in the big stand-up shower. It had two nozzles and
plenty of room for two men, let alone for a man and a boy.

But, Aiden knew that his dads didn't want him to shower with them. He
didn't understand the reason for it. After all, his dads had no problem with
him being nude in the house, and had no problem with him seeing them
naked, yet they couldn't be naked together in the shower. All they were
doing in the shower was washing, so why was it so different?

He decided to give up on trying to understand that piece of adult thinking.
He had enough problems trying to understand his own, almost-ten-year-old
thinking right then.

"Larry?" came Phil's voice from the shower.

Aiden sat on the tall stool that was parked at the end of the big bathroom.
His bare feet dangled a long way from the floor. "It's me," he said simply.

"Aiden? You never get out of bed to the first alarm."

"How come you're not jogging this morning?" Aiden asked, ignoring Phil's
statement.

"It was a long, busy weekend and I wanted to sleep in a bit. I'll deal with
jogging tonight." Phil raised his voice some in order to be heard over the
running shower. "Are you feeling better this morning?"

"I guess so. I'm sorry I cried on you last night."

"That's what dads are for."

"Big boys don't cry."

Aiden heard nothing but the running water for ten seconds before Phil
replied. "Little boys cry, big boys cry, teen boys cry, men cry. Sometimes
you just have to cry."

"I've never seen you or daddy cry."

"That doesn't mean that we don't cry. But, it doesn't happen often, I will say
that."

"Can I shower with you?"

"Aiden, you know the answer to that."

This time the silence was Aiden's. "Yeah, but since I really want to, I
decided to ask in case you changed your mind. Can I shower in there when
you're finished?"

"Okay, but be quick. Your daddy wants to get his shower in."

Aiden stripped off his orange and black briefs, dropped them to the floor
under the stool, and waited patiently for Phil to finish his shower. "I'll leave
the water running," Phil announced. "You can adjust it yourself."

The glass door opened and Aiden watched his dad step out. It was one of
the few times he'd seen Phil naked. He knew his dad and his daddy had
good looking bodies. They were in good shape and looked so much better
than some of the big-bellied men his mother picked up as boyfriends. His
father, Keegan, didn't have a nice looking body at all. In the rare times he
saw his father, he could tell that the man didn't take very good care of
himself.

Phil grabbed a towel off of the rack and started to dry himself as he
stepped out of the stall. Aiden dashed past him and stuck his hand in the
cascading water. It was a little warmer than he liked, so he added a touch
of cold. Phil closed the door and Aiden started showering.

Every time he saw his son, naked or otherwise, Phil knew that he and Larry
were blessed to have taken in a boy who was so beautiful and healthy. It
was another tribute to his mother who, for all of her faults, made sure he
ate well, read books, succeeded in school, and was active outdoors as
much as possible.

Larry walked into the bathroom. He was naked, his long cock swinging
back and forth as he walked over to the toilet. "Why is the shower still on?"
he asked. Then he saw the flesh colored blur of Aiden through the
translucent glass. He and Phil exchanged a smile.

"Hey, kiddo, let's hurry it up, please," Larry said.

"Good morning, daddy. You can come in with me—there are two showers
in here."

"Good morning, son, and I'll wait for you to come out."

"You and dad are weird, sometimes."

"And proud of it," Larry chuckled as Aiden turned the shower off.

"Fine, you can start your own shower then," the boy said as he opened the
door. He reached up and pulled a towel down from the shelf and started
drying himself before stepping out of the shower stall. Larry, with a towel
wrapped around him, stepped into the shower. He knew that Aiden had just
seen Phil naked, but he saw no reason why he should take things beyond
that.

Aiden sat down on the tall stool once again. He waited for the shower to
start running before starting a conversation with Larry. "Daddy?"

"Still here? You get up earlier than usual and you have all kinds of time to
talk, I see."

"Daddy, when you messed around when you were little, did you sometimes
feel bad about it?"

"Sometimes, but the more I learned about what I was doing, the less it
happened. Do you feel badly about what you did with Chase and his
friends?"

"Not really. It's just all the kissing and Chase rubbing his boner on me and
the cum coming out of Chase and Hatcher, it was just a lot going on."

Larry was afraid of where the conversation was going. "Did Hatcher or
Chase force you to do anything?"

"No, I wanted to do everything, but it's like I wanted to do too much. Like
having too much candy at Halloween."

"I understand what you're saying, son," Larry was impressed by the young
boy's analogy. Aiden was without a doubt a very bright boy, just like his
father Keegan had been. He just needed to learn how to be smarter than
his father.

"I think what happened is you wanted to do something sexy and naughty,
but when you did it you weren't mature enough—weren't ready enough—
for what was happening."

"So, it's not like I was bad or doing something wrong?"

"Nope. You were a boy who was experimenting and messing around. But
you might want to be a bit more conservative about doing sexual things
with your friends. You don't have to get undressed and be sexy all of the
time—there are other things boys can do to have fun."

"I know, it's just, I like it. But maybe next time we'll just masturbate or kiss
or, I dunno, just..."

"...just keep your clothes on," Larry laughed.

"Maybe." Aiden hopped off of the stool when he heard Larry turn off the
shower. "Thank you for talking to me about that stuff, daddy."

"Thank you for trusting me enough to be willing to talk about it. And if
anybody at any time tries to make you do something you don't want to do, I
hope you trust your dad and me enough to tell us."

Aiden didn't reply. He left the bathroom so his daddy wouldn't get bothered
by both of them being naked together in the bathroom. He didn't know if he
would tell his dads if somebody did something to him he didn't like. He
might just bash them in the nuts like he did Parker and his mother's
boyfriends. Nobody bothered him after he did that.

Since Aiden was awake and had showered earlier than usual, his breakfast
was slow and leisurely. He started reading a new book while he ate; "Tales
of a Fourth Grade Nothing" by Judy Blume. Gordon had told him it was
really funny and he should probably read it before he became a fifth grader.

Phil had already left for work when he sat down to breakfast. Larry sat
across from him at the kitchen table, and gave the boy some space. He
knew that after spilling his guts that morning, as well as spilling his tears
the night before, Aiden needed some time just for himself before leaving for
school. The schedule now had Larry leaving for school before Aiden. He
had no qualms about Aiden waiting on his own for the school bus.

When it came time to catch his bus, he sat in the little shelter next to the
driveway. It was angled so he could see the bus come around the bend to
the northeast. When it appeared he grabbed his backpack and waited for it
to stop and for the red lights to flash. He crossed the street and stepped up
to the new bike and walking trail. The section past his house had been
finished two weeks ago. He liked being able to step up to the bus from the
concrete trail instead of from dirt. That was especially evident when he
boarded during a morning rain the week before.

As Aiden rode on the bus he wished, not for the first time since the
extension of the trail had passed his house, that he had a bicycle to ride on
the trail. All of his friends had a bike which they rode around town, but he
didn't have a bike to ride anywhere. His dads had told him it was too
dangerous past the State Park entrance. With the bike trail and walking
path finished past their house, he knew that was no longer the case. He
thought about asking for a bicycle for his birthday, but then he wouldn't
have one for the entire summer. He felt depressed as the bus turned into
the school driveway.

Aiden's mood perked up as the bus arrived at Lakeview School. It perked
up even more when he saw Gordon waiting for him. The two friends
exchanged fist bumps and headed into the school. Any day that any of his
buddies were outside waiting for the bus was a special day, but it was even
more special when Gordy met him.

The day went smoothly. He was happy that there was no sexual chatter
during lunch—even Muddy was on good behavior. The sexual byplay
actually happened much less than half the time; most of the time they were
giggly and silly fourth grade boys, their favorite lines of chatter being
baseball, classwork, and telling each other how dumb girls were.

Lunch recess consisted of an intramural softball game. Aiden wasn't
playing. He ended up joining Gordon, Miles, and Mason in a foursquare
game. Muddy, Russell, and Collin were playing in the softball game on the
upper field.

Since Gordy had baseball practice right after school, Aiden stayed at Miles'
house. The boys did their homework, played some catch, and snacked.
The snacking was important since neither one would be eating until after
their 5:30 practice.

Practice went well. Aiden was happy to be able to play some third base.
Even though he was one of the smallest boys on the team, he had a strong
arm and quick reflexes. He had worked hard with his dads on the art of
fielding grounders, and that work seemed to be paying off.

Larry picked Aiden up from practice and Phil had dinner ready as soon as
they arrived home. Larry and Phil could tell that Aiden had pulled himself
out of his funk.

"It's two weeks from today," Aiden grinned.

"Yes, it is," Phil replied. He knew exactly what Aiden was referring to.

"The i's will be dotted and the t's will be crossed and I will officially be Aiden
Wayne Miller forever and ever."

"You already are Aiden Wayne Miller," Larry reminded him.

"Yep, but not THE Aiden Wayne Miller who is your official son."

Aiden's adoption would be made official on May 16, which was in exactly
two weeks. Larry and Phil would both be taking the day off for family leave
and Aiden would be excused from school. Flo Lansing and Gordon would
be there to witness the event. George Bednarzyk and Sammy Bednarzyk
would also be attending. Mary Polk, their lawyer, Mrs. Masterson, who had
been their CPS social worker, and Larry's parents would round out the
audience. Aiden's Uncle Troy would have liked to have joined the
festivities, but he would be starting the prosecution of a high profile murder
case and would not be able to get away.

That night, Larry started "Carry On, Mr. Bowditch" as the tuck in book. It
would be a much different read than the previous books. Aiden had insisted
on that book as their read-aloud book. "Horace likes sea stories," he
informed his dads when he gave his reasons for wanting that book.

The next evening the Knights had a ball game. They would be playing the
Clark Pass Mountaineers. Even though Clark Pass usually did not field
good teams, they had a 2-0 record just like the Knights.

Phil was unable to get off work in time to provide rides to Clark Pass, and
Larry had a baseball game to coach at the high school, so Aiden rode in
Muddy's car. The trip to Clark Pass was their longest and took close to an
hour.

 Aiden quickly swore to himself that he would never ride with Muddy's
father again. He felt that the number on a speed limit sign was simply a
suggestion and drove accordingly—which meant 10-15 miles an hour over
the speed limit on a curvy mountain road. Muddy and his brother twelve-
year brother Josif paid no attention to their father's driving—they were used
to it. But it all but scared the crap out of Aiden, who was used to the
conservative, law-abiding driving of his dads. He was beyond happy when
they safely pulled up to the lone youth baseball field in Clark Pass.

But, the worst part of the trip for Aiden wasn't the drive to the game—it was
the game itself. Aiden was in the two hole for the Knights. He struck out
swinging on three pitches. He didn't have his mind entirely on the at-bat,
especially on the third pitch when he tried to make up for missing the first
two with one hard, wild swing.

He started at third base for the first time. He stood out in the field thinking
about how badly he'd swung the bat instead of getting himself in the proper
position to field. The Mountaineers' second batter hit a hard grounder right
to him and it zipped right through the wickets. In other words, it went under
his glove and through his legs for a two-base error. The error allowed a run
to score.

Coach Hallion reminded Aiden to get his body low and be in the ready
position. "Drop the anchor," the coach told him, referring to Aiden lowering
his ass. Aiden ignored him, treating him like he would have treated Coach
Estes for telling him to not swing at the ball.

Rather than recover from the at-bat and the error, Aiden dwelled on them
and went into pout mode. In the fourth inning Aiden fielded an easy two-
hopper, but didn't have himself in position to make a good throw. He ended
up airmailing his throw out of play, scattering parents who were sitting in
their lawn chairs along the out-of-play line. The error allowed the batter to
be awarded second base.

Phil had arrived just before Aiden had thrown the ball out of play. While the
error didn't bother him—errors were part of the game—Aiden's attitude
after the error did bother him. Aiden sulked and didn't get himself into
position until Coach Hallion commanded him to do so not once, but twice.

The Knights were down 6-0 when Aiden led off the fifth inning. This time it
took four pitches for Aiden to strike out. He was angry with himself for
playing lousy and once again simply didn't have his head in the game. He
flailed away wildly on each swing instead of concentrating on the pitch and
on his hitting mechanics.

"Keep your head down on the ball," Phil called out as Aiden dragged his bat
back to the bench. He had just violated one of his cardinal rules, which was
to not yell at Aiden publicly. His son was playing so poorly, however, he
couldn't help himself, just like Aiden couldn't help himself at the plate.

The Knights still managed to score two runs in the inning to make the score
6-2. Coach Hallion had to make some changes to give every player
adequate playing time in the field. Collin was slated to replace his son,
Trent, as pitcher, but he made an alternate move.

Coach Hallion had planned to keep Aiden at third for all six innings, but
he'd seen enough of Aiden in the field. He substituted Mason for him. He
sent Mason to right field and moved a couple of other boys around. Collin
ended up at third base and Russell ended up subbing for Trent on the
mound. Russell couldn't find home plate with a GPS and ended up walking
three batters and giving up five runs.

The Knights battled back in the sixth and last inning when the new
Mountaineer pitcher suffered from the same problem as Russell—home
plate seemed to keep moving around.  They were down 11-2 to start the
inning, but cut the score to 11-7 and had the bases loaded with two outs.
Aiden was the batter and represented the tying run. He remembered his big
at bat in his first game when his single won the game. He was determined
to be the hero again.

The first pitch was way over his head and he let it go by for ball one. He
then swung and missed with all of his might at a ball that was outside. The
next pitch bounced twice before getting to home plate and skipped past the
catcher. Aiden let it go by for ball two. Vance, who was the runner on third,
took off for home and scored easily as the catcher misjudged the direction
the ball would bounce off of the backstop. The score was now 11-8.

Aiden was determined to take the next pitch, hit it a long way, and knock in
as many runs as he could. The next pitch was coming in high, but Aiden
had made up his mind to swing as soon as the pitcher went into his windup.
He swung so hard at the pitch that he twisted himself around. He also
missed it as it blew by him six inches above his head.

He stood and fumed, his mind running wild as he thought about his two
strikeouts, his two errors, his two wild swings at pitches that weren't strikes.
Heroes didn't swing at crap, he thought as the pitcher started his windup.
Heroes swing at good pitches and hit them hard and I'm going to be a hero
again and not be lousy like I've been this whole stupid game. Those were
the thoughts going through his head as he stood and watched a ball go by
him that was right down the middle of the plate for called strike three. The
Knights were saddled with their first loss of the season.

Aiden walked away with his head down. He halfheartedly shook hands with
the Clark Pass players, tuned out Coach Hallion's post-game remarks, and
sulked his way to the car with Phil. He took his place in the backseat and
stared out of the window, hoping his dad wouldn't say anything to him
about how badly he'd played. I sure ain't no hero, he thought. I am the
crappiest, shittiest baseball player in the world.

"Looks like somebody had a bad game," Phil mused.

Aiden sat staring out of the side window with his arms folded—a scowl
clouding his handsome young face. He didn't want to talk about it.

"Scowling out the window won't solve anything, son."

"I don't care. I'm the shittiest player there is. I don't want to ever play a
baseball game again."

Phil knew that riding in a car was not the place for the conversation that
was obviously necessary. "We'll talk about the game when we get home."

"No we won't," Aiden spat out with vitriol.

The boy is still a couple of years from puberty, Phil thought, and he's going
to be more than ready for it.

When they got home, Larry had dinner on the table. It was beef stew that
had been prepared by Phil on Sunday. Phil knew from the texts he'd
received that the Mayfield Mustangs had lost a tough 4-3 game to the
Harborview Tugs. The Mustangs would have to win their game on
Thursday in order to advance to Districts.

Larry tried to coax some information from Aiden, asking how he and the
Knights had done, even though he knew most of the story. Aiden played
with his food for a while before deciding that he was hungry. As he started
to eat he opened up some to his dads.

"I sucked. I lost the game for us. I should quit. I couldn't do anything right.
And my last at bat with the bases loaded I knew I sucked because I already
struck out both times."

"I didn't see your first at bat," Phil said, "but you looked like you'd never
received a minute of coaching on your other two."

"Maybe I didn't get enough coaching cuz I suck so bad."

"Were you concentrating on the game, or was your mind somewhere else?"
Larry asked.

"It don't matter where my mind was." Aiden wasn't sure what he wanted to
hear from his dad, but whatever it was he wasn't hearing it.

"You know it matters. You admitted you weren't thinking about what you
needed to do, and I'm thinking that had a lot to do with how you played and
how you behaved."

"I behaved fine. You mean I'm supposed to be happy because I'm a lousy
player?"

Phil finally ran out of patience. "Aiden, how about you cut out the damned
whining." Aiden looked at his dad like he'd just been possessed by a
demon. "Was the time you spent at the cages practicing whining? Was the
time you spent on fielding practice whining? Was the time you spent hitting
off the tee with Gordon and Miles whining? Or was it all hard work?"

"It didn't make me good enough. And I wasn't whining."

Phil wished he could shake some sense into his stubborn son. "Let's cut
with the bullshit, Aiden. You whined the entire game. You whined every
time you did something wrong. You put no thought into making things
better, you simply whined because you were feeling fucking sorry for
yourself." Larry looked at Phil liked his husband had lost his mind.

"Tell me this, son: did even one second of pouting help you play any
better? Did it make the players on the Mountaineers ease up on you so you
wouldn't feel so bad? Did you do anything to help yourself or your
teammates?"

"You probably never had a bad game. You don't even know what it's like."

Larry decided to step in to give Phil a moment to calm down a bit. "Aiden,
there isn't a baseball player in the world who hasn't had a bad game. It
comes with the territory, and I'm talking at any level, from ten-and-under
Small Fries to the Major Leagues. The good players learn from it and move
on and get better. The whiners," he saw Aiden wince, "never get better and
end up being quitters."

Aiden looked down at the table and toyed with the stew in his bowl. He
could feel the tears coming on. He told himself over and over that big boys
don't cry, big boys don't cry, big boys...

"I'm not a whiner and I'm not a quitter," he finally mumbled.

"I thought I heard you say you wanted to quit. I guess I was wrong. What I
know I was right about is that you went through two incidents that tested
what is inside of you: the curve ball from Coach Estes, which you slammed
back at him, and the hit that won your first game when Coach Hallion told
you it was okay to swing the bat. So, yeah, you're not a whiner and how
you handled yourself then shows it."

Aiden shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth, looking down at the table
and not at his dads.

Phil took the conversation back. "But, you also showed what you can be
like if you don't let yourself be controlled by...by...,"

"Not by whining," Aiden muttered. He looked at his dads, his eyes dull and
his face expressionless. "Can I go to my room?"

Phil was about to refuse him permission, but he caught an almost
imperceptible shake of the head from Larry. "Yes, but take the rest of your
stew with you—food in your belly will help you feel better."

Surprised that he got permission, Aiden got out of his chair and picked up
the bowl of stew. "Can I talk to Marty?"

"Yes," Larry said right away. He thought he knew the reason behind his
son's request. He was certain that Aiden was looking for a face-saving way
out and hoped his mentor and "big brother" would give him one.

Aiden finally left for his room, carrying his stew and the phone handset. As
soon as he was gone Phil said., "That's as off the wall as I've seen him
since he first moved in with us."

"Poor little guy has a lot on his mind. But, that does not excuse his
behavior," Larry said. "We'll see how Marty handles him. I think Aiden
wants to talk to somebody who puts his glove on the same days he does,
not a couple of old farts who haven't played ball in years."

"It has been a couple of years since we've played Senior Baseball in
Centralia," Phil mused. "I hope you made the right decision by letting him
talk to Marty. He might end up acting as an enabler in an attempt to help
Aiden feel better."

Larry shook his head. "You know Marty better than that. You gave Aiden a
good helping of tough love. Marty could very easily add a second helping."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When Aiden arrived in his room, he turned on his laptop. He was fairly
certain Marty had the evening off, but he wanted to be sure. He reviewed
Marty's stats on the WSU website as he thought about what to say to the
person he respected more than anybody in his life, outside of his dads. And
sometimes, he even passed them up.

He ate two more spoonfuls of stew. He was hungrier than he thought. He
finally dialed the phone and was happy when Marty picked up the call. He
hoped his big brother wasn't too busy to talk.

"Hey, little bro. As always, it is great hearing from you," Marty gushed when
Aiden greeted him. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," Aiden said lamely.

"Didn't you have a game today?"

"Yes."

"How did it go?"

"We lost 11-8." Aiden then went right into his ballgame and how badly he
played and how mad he was at his dads for not understanding why he was
mad during the game and mad after the game and mad right now.

"Whoa, bro, slow down. So you think losing is all your fault?"

"No, but I played terrible and I kept making more mistakes. Dad says it was
because I was whining about myself and not thinking about the game."

"And?"

There was a moment of silence at Aiden's end of the line. "And what?"

"Were you whining and pouting and feeling sorry for yourself?"

"No."

"Bro, I am now officially playing the bullshit card. You know you were and
you just don't want to be honest about it."

Aiden was ready to hang up. Marty wasn't on his side at all, and said he
was talking bullshit just like his dad had. "How do you know," Aiden
growled. "You weren't even there. I played shitty because I'm shitty, not
because I was whining and feeling sorry for myself." There, he thought, I've
done it. I cussed. Now I'm just like the adults who hate me.

Marty was going to criticize Aiden's language, but decided to let it go. "Well,
sport, I'm not going to argue with you. I am going to tell you, however, that I
know I wasted a great deal of time and energy behaving like a little jerk. I
felt sorry for myself, I whined, and I blamed everything on everybody else,
not on my own behavior. Everybody was wrong and I was right and that's
the way it was. It took me way too long to understand that whining and
sulking and complaining has never won a single game in the history of
sports."

"I don't want to talk anymore."

"Fine, but before you go I have an assignment for you."

"I won't do it."

For the first time, Marty was having difficulty communicating with Aiden.
Fuck, he thought to himself, when this kid hits puberty he's going to be
harder to deal with than I was.

"Then don't do it. But, if you get bored get on your computer, go to
YouTube, and search for the song `I Am the Greatest' by Kenny Rogers.
Now, I have to get back to studying for my stats test. Call me back after
you've seen the video, but only if you want to talk and not whine. Oh, and
one more thing you need to know while you watch it.

"I ain't watching it."

Marty ignored him and went on. "Just remember your shit stinks just like
everybody else's."

"Bye." Aiden hung up the phone without waiting for a reply. He thought
Marty would understand him. Instead he acted just like his dads, only
worse. Aiden expected his dads to act like dads. He expected Marty to act
like his friend.

He looked up at Horace, who sat impassively on his shelf. He stood up and
pulled the stuffed donkey down and sat it on the bed. He then took off all of
his clothes and sat next to his nonjudgmental friend. "So, what do you
think, Horace? Should I look up that song?" He watched the animal for any
sign of an answer. The donkey's bright blue eyes and perpetually amused
grin looked back at him. "I thought so," Aiden said.

He went to his computer and soon had the song up on his screen. A cute
little blond boy, maybe a year or two younger than him was on the screen
in the middle of a green field. He was wearing a baseball cap and carrying
a bat and a ball. Kenny Rogers was singing, "I am the greatest player of
them all," which the boy mouthed. The boy threw the ball up into the air as
Kenny Rogers sang about the ball going up, and the ball coming down, and
the boy swinging and missing it before it hit the ground for strike one.

The little boy threw the ball up into the air again. "The ball goes up, the ball
comes down," the song went on. The boy "swings his bat all the way
around, the world so still you can hear the sound as the ball falls to the
ground yet again for strike two".

"He makes no excuses. He shows no tears," Rogers sang. "He closes his
eyes and hears the cheers."

The scene now has the little boy in his baseball uniform as he stands at
home plate on an actual baseball field. He tossed the ball up and once
again swings and misses as the ball goes up and comes back down. "The
world is as still as it can be. The ball falls—that's strike three."

Aiden waited for the little boy to cry, or get mad, or whine, or do something.
Instead his mother calls him to dinner, and he's once again in the green
field wearing the t-shirt and shorts and baseball hat he had on when the
song began. He intones the last words of the song, "I am the greatest, that
is understood. Even I didn't know I could pitch that good."

Tears were gushing down Aiden's cheeks. His body shook with sobs. "Big
boys don't cry, Horace," he sobbed as he played the song through a
second time.

That little boy was him against Coach Estes in batting practice. It was him
winning a game with his first ever hit. It was him hitting in the cages, hitting
off the tee, playing whiffle ball, dropping his anchor in fielding practice. It
wasn't him playing the Clark Pass Mountaineers and whining, and then
whining some more, and whining even more, until he struck out because he
forgot he was good enough to win the game, not because the Clark Pass
pitcher was better. He made two errors and he struck out three times and
he was taken out of the game because he forgot that he was "the greatest."

Aiden played the video for a third time, singing along with Kenny Rogers.
By the time he got to the last verse, he was singing at the top of his voice.
"I am the greatest, that is understood."

When the video ended he looked at Horace and said, "And don't you forget
it."

Downstairs, Larry looked at Phil as they heard the sound of Aiden's boy
soprano drifting down from upstairs. "What on Earth is that about?" Phil
asked.

"That is about a certain great individual doling out tough love at the same
time he builds somebody up." Larry was very familiar with the song. He
wished he suggested it, but then realized that some things are better said
by others. "I know you know that song."

"I do. I know it very well.  I'm just amazed to hear it being belted out by our
boy. Fucking Marty is a miracle worker."

Aiden picked up the phone and called his big bro. When Marty picked up
the phone, Aiden sang. "I am the greatest player of them all," and Marty
knew that the healing had begun for the little blond "brother" he loved so
much.

Marty talked to Aiden about apologizing to his dads and to his coach. "I
want you to make living amends to your teammates, though," Marty told his
young friend.

"What's that?"

"That means instead of just telling everybody you're sorry, you show them
you're sorry by doing the best you can on every play of every practice and
every game."

"But what if I make an error or strike out or something?"

"You're a baseball player, bro. Those are part of the game. What do you
think you should do after an error or a strikeout?"

"I should remember that I'm the greatest and do my very best on the next
play."

"Bro, I think you've got a pretty good handle on what's going on. Trust me,
a living amends isn't easy because you have to do it every minute of every
practice and game. But, pretty soon your teammates will know how great
you are without your ever having to say a word."

"Thank you Marty, you're the best big bro in the whole world."

"It helps that I've got a pretty great little bro," Marty replied.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After finishing with Marty, Aiden picked his white briefs off of the floor and
pulled them on. He wanted to give his dads hugs and knew he couldn't be
naked and hug them. He thought the rule was stupid, but he had learned to
live with it.

He found Larry and Phil in the good-for-everything room watching the
Mariners on TV. Larry, who was sprawled on the couch, picked up the
remote and muted the sound.

"Feeling better?" he asked the mostly naked little blond.

"Yeah."

"That was quite a job of singing you were doing."

"I wish I could sing like Mason. But, that's a really cool song. You should
watch the video. It's called `I Am the Greatest.'" He started singing the tune
quietly.

"We know the song," Phil told Aiden, "but I've never seen the video."

"The little boy in it is so cute." He took a deep breath. "Dads, I'm really sorry
for what I did today. I was a whiner and a loser and selfish and self...," he
tried to remember the word Marty had used. "Yeah, I was self-seeking.
That means my ego made me do bad things, like whine and pout and be
mean to you."

"Sounds like you and Marty had a good talk."

"He told me to apologize, but said it had to be from my heart plus one more
thing."

"What's that?"

"That I have to work on being a winner and remembering that no matter
how bad things get I have to remember that I am really the greatest. He
said if I don't do those things then when I say I'm sorry to you
it's...um...well, he said it's not worth a...a...rusty fuck, whatever that is."

"I have no idea," Larry said. "but I accept your apology and expect to see
you work to live it."

"I concur," Phil added.

"And Marty told me to remember that my shit stinks just like everybody
else's." After that remark it was all Larry and Phil could do to keep from
laughing. They knew that Marty was completely serious when he made that
remark to Aiden and that Aiden was totally serious when he repeated it to
them. They were both amazed at Marty's ability to get his point across to
Aiden, even if at times it was a bit crude.

Aiden walked over to the couch. Larry knew what was coming and stood
up, letting Aiden wrap his arms around him. "I love you, daddy."

He then went to the disputed favorite chair, and squeezed in between Phil
and the arm. "I love you, dad."

"We both love you, Aiden, and don't you ever forget it."

"I know you love me or you wouldn't want to be my official dads."

Phil ruffled his hair. "I hope I never feel like I have to curse at you again.
That was not fun."

Aiden was quiet for a moment as he decided on a subject change. "Marty
asked me what the biggest thing I learned today was. You know what I told
him?"

"Nope, I wasn't there. What did you tell him?"

"I told him I was the greatest and the ball goes up and the ball comes
down, but when the ball comes down," he paused and gave his dads each
an impish grin. "When it comes down, I'm going to hit the crap out of it."

He rolled off of the chair laughing and his dads joined in, filling the big room
with laughter and love and forgiveness.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Marty hung up his phone and took a deep breath. He thought back over
everything he had just told Aiden – especially the need to make amends.
The conversation gave him a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.
He felt happy and proud over how he handled the situation with Aiden.
Again he thanked his Higher Power for giving him the gift of his "little bro".
Suddenly the memories of all the amends he had had to make as a young
teen to family, friends, teammates, and especially his eventual husband,
washed over him. The emotions of the moment overcame him and his eyes
filled with tears. Somehow he heard the echo of his dad telling him that
"boys don't cry". But Marty just smiled – he knew better.
Next:  Lessons Learned


The song "I Am the Greatest" was written in by Don Schlitz and recorded
by Kenny Rogers in 1999. The video mentioned in the story can be found
on YouTube.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-K3DI07Ibb4