Date: Tue, 6 Oct 2009 13:11:03 EDT From: Bwstories8@aol.com Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening - book 2, chapters 33 - 34 Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 2 by BW Copyright 2009 by billwstories Chapter 33 -- A Child Fights Back. **Author's Note:** Please read the disclaimer in Chapter 00 before you read this. When we awoke the next morning, I realized it was the last day of the month, February 28th, and I had budget deadlines to meet that week. This meant it was going to be a very hectic day, filled with a great deal of boring work. The morning turned out to be particularly rough, with additional problems arising before lunchtime, but it seemed to get even worse during the noon hour. That's when Cole came to my office to discuss a troubling situation he was currently facing. It turned out the boy who had been calling him names and causing him problems earlier in the school year had started in on him again. This new harassment had been the previous week, but Cole thought it might die down after the weekend, but that wasn't the case. The boy had already started in on him again that morning and Cole was running out of options and patience. He explained to me that he'd tried everything he could think of to end this situation, but had now run out of ideas. In desperation, he came to me for advice. We were in my office, in the middle of our conversation, when I heard a loud argument in the hall. I sprang from behind my desk, bolted into the corridor and immediately discovered the source of the disturbance. Two of my students were having a major disagreement. Cole had followed me into the corridor and we looked the situation over. I instantly recognized both young men. The one with his back toward me was Henry Prosser, the boy who had been causing problems with Cole. He was an eighth grader and his friends called him Hank. The other boy was a sixth grader named Eddie Weeks. Eddie was small for his age, and his blond hair and slight build gave him an almost fragile appearance. Eddie was screaming at Hank, saying something about being sick and tired of Hank tormenting him. Trying to be inconspicuous, I began moving toward the two boys and that's when I saw Eddie lift his arm towards Hank. That's when I discovered he was holding a small pistol in his right hand. I immediately told Cole to go in the office and have my secretary call 911, as I walked forward, to see what I could do to intervene. "Eddie," I called out softly, but he didn't seem to hear me. "Eddie, hold on there. Don't do anything foolish. Let me help you and we'll see if we can't solve whatever problems you're having together." He looked up at me, when his brain registered what I was saying. "No, Mr. Currie. I have to take care of this myself," he informed me. "Hank's not going to do this to me any more. I'm not going to let him. I'm going to make him stop it, right now." I could also see that Hank was very nervous and was afraid he might try something foolish -- something that might provoke Eddie even more. "Eddie, what's the problem?" I asked him, trying to get his attention off of Hank and on me. "It can't be that bad." "It is, Mr. Currie, and I'm tired of him calling me names, beating me up and stealing my lunch money. He's done it for the last time and I'm going to make sure he doesn't do it to me or any other boy or girl again," Eddie replied, defiantly. I knew from Cole's experience with him that Hank was a bully, but I'd opted not to get involved, at Cole's request. However, I had never received any other complaints about Hank or realized, before now, that he had been harassing other students, besides Cole. I moved cautiously forward, until I was even with Hank. I was talking to Eddie the whole time, trying to get him to relax and put his weapon down. Just as I got to Hank, I grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him roughly behind me. As I did so, he must have stumbled and fallen to the floor, because I heard a dull thud, indicating something had hit the tiled floor, just as I heard the gun go off. Eddie had pulled the trigger and I felt the bullet hit me in the abdomen. I looked up at Eddie and he was trying to see where Hank was, as he lay on the floor behind me. He must have seen Hank, as he looked between my legs and he lowered his gun to shoot a second time. Mustering all of my strength, I moved quickly toward Eddie, just as the second shot went off. I felt a sharp pain in my left leg and fell toward the floor, as I heard the crack of a third round being fired. This time I felt a pain in my chest and I collapsed onto the hard, cold floor. By this time, a couple of teachers had come up behind Eddie and wrestled the pistol from his hand. One of the teachers hung onto him, while the other bent over me, to offer assistance. Cole came screaming to my side and I could see tears were gushing down his face, as I was rolled over, onto my back. Now there was a flurry of activity in the hall and a number of people were trying to assist me. Before long I could hear the sounds of multiple sirens pulling up in front of the school and soon there were police and paramedics clustered around and hovering over me. The police took the gun from the teacher who had wrested it from Eddie and had now placed handcuffs on the small boy. As soon as he was restrained and they felt nothing more would happen, they began talking to witnesses and taking statements, as the paramedics attempted to stop the bleeding and treat my wounds. I was surprised I wasn't in very much pain, but as it was explained to me later, that was because I was suffering from shock and it had dulled my senses. Once the emergency crew felt I was stabilized, they hoisted me onto a stretcher, ready to wheel me out and load me into the ambulance. Lying on the gurney, I looked over to see Cole crying hysterically and being physically restrained by one of his male teachers. The rest became a blur, as I started drifting in and out of consciousness from the loss of blood, but when I came to again, the emergency vehicle I was being transported in was speeding toward the hospital, with its siren going full-blast. As we pulled up in front of the emergency room entrance, I was beginning to feel very woozy again and thought I might black out. The last thing I remember was being wheeled into a treatment room and doctors working frantically on me, before I totally zoned out. Back at school, the police had taken Eddie Weeks into custody and placed him in a squad car, while the teachers had rounded up my other boys from their classes and put them in my office, along with Cole. My secretary was in with them, trying to comfort them, while the assistance principal and head-teacher tried to regain some semblance of order within the building. Trey suggested calling Aunt Sally and telling her what happened and my secretary allowed him to do that. Soon, Sally was at the school, taking care of the boys there. After Sally arrived, my secretary called the high school, explained the situation to the principal there and asked him to have a guidance counselor round up my other sons and tell them what had happened. Sally advised them to also notify the boys she'd be over to pick them up shortly, so she could take them all to the hospital, to keep vigil. After my secretary hung up, Sally asked her if she knew where the van keys were, which she did. She immediately retrieved them from my desk drawer, where she knew I always kept them while I was working. After handing them to Sally, Sally hurriedly loaded the younger boys into the van, drove to the high school and picked up the others, before driving them all to the hospital, so they could be near me. She was astute enough to realize none of them would be satisfied or able to function until they knew how I was doing and felt this would be best for all of us. As soon as my high school boys were loaded into the vehicle, they started asking questions about what had happened. Cole told most of the story, but the others had to fill in the gaps, each time he began to cry again. Soon, they were all racing down the hospital corridors, toward the waiting area for the ER, while Sally frantically tried to find out whatever information she could glean from the receptionist. As is typical, she was first asked if she was related, because of the critical nature of my injuries. Sally then went on to explain that she was the head of D.S.S., a very close friend of the family and would become guardian to the boys should anything happen to me, and that most of my sons were in the waiting room, frantic and wanting to know what was going on. She then explained, she was also acting on their behalf, both in her professional position and as temporary guardian. Seeing her professional position carried more weight, they finally gave in to her requests for information and communicated with her about my condition. Basically, all they told her was that I had three gunshot wounds and was taken to the operating room to remove the bullets, stop the bleeding and stabilize my vital signs. They also agreed to update her on any information they learned about my condition, as soon as anyone came out of the OR. Satisfied that was the best she was going to do, Sally went back to rejoin the boys and relayed what little information she had to them. The boys were still highly agitated and quite upset, so they barraged her with a thousand questions about what was going to happen to me, what was going to happen to them while I was in the hospital and what might become of our family. She first tried to reassure them, by promising she would stay with them at our house, for as long as I remained hospitalized. She also informed them nothing would happen to the family and she would be there for all of us, until I was back on my feet. They calmed down a little, but they were little more than basket cases at this point. The older boys were trying to comfort the younger ones and were clinging to each other, like Linus (from Charlie Brown) to his security blanket. In the operating room, the doctors were patching up my injuries and pumping blood back into my drained body. I don't know how long they worked on me, but when they finally finished, I was wheeled into recovery. One of the doctors went out to inform Sally about what they had done and update her on my condition. "Hello, I'm Dr. Patel and I was one of the surgeons that operated on Mr. Currie. I understand you are the person representing the family." "Yes. I'm a close friend and Josh has given me temporary guardianship of his sons, if anything should happen to him," she explained. "He did that well over a year ago and I hoped I would never be forced to assume those duties." "I understand. Let me offer my sympathy over what has happened and let me fill you in on what we did for him," the physician began. "Mr. Currie was the victim of three gunshot wounds and lost a considerable amount of blood before he arrived. Fortunately, it was only a .22 caliber handgun used in the assault or the damage could have been much worse. We gave him immediate transfusions of blood and then operated, once his vital signs were stable. One of the gunshots shattered his left kneecap. We've done what we can for now, but we will need to replace the original bone with an artificial knee joint as soon as he has recovered sufficiently. Another bullet went through his intestines, so we had to sew up several areas where the bullet punctured the tissue. The last shell went through his right lung and caused it to collapse. We have repaired the damage, re- inflated the lung and we're pumping antibiotics into his system to fight against infection." "Will he recover and will he be able to function as he did before?" Sally asked, very concerned. "I suspect all of his wounds will heal, but there may have to be some changes to his life- style," she was informed. "He may have to change his diet until his intestinal tract heals, he might also have some lingering respiratory problems and he probably won't be able to run or compete in sports with the knee damage he sustained. Other than that, I expect he should recover fully." "You don't know how relieved that makes me," she admitted, as the air rushed from her lungs when she sighed. "I was worried I might have to assume full responsibility for all of his sons and that wouldn't be easy on any of us." "He has a lot of sons and they are a handful, then?" the doctor asked. "He has eleven boys, but they are wonderful young men," she informed him. "It's just that I work a great deal and I've lived on my own for years, so I wasn't sure I'd be able to adjust to such a change." "Eleven sons? I didn't think people had that many children any more," he mumbled, somewhat shocked by this revelation. "They're adopted," she explained. "He's taken in boys who needed him badly and he's done a wonderful job with them. I've got to go tell the boys he's going to be fine." "You do that and I'll help make sure he is," the doctor urged. "We don't want those boys to lose their father now, do we?" "Indeed not," Sally confirmed. "Thank you, Doctor. I need to get back with them. They are anxious for any news about their father. Thank you, again." "I'm glad I could help," he told her, as they both turned to leave. Sally went out and told the boys about my condition. They were still upset, but relieved that I would recover. They were also quite shocked to learn that I had been struck by three separate bullets. They knew one, maybe two, but they had never imagined that all three bullets had struck me. "When can we see Daddy, Aunt Sally?" Andrew asked, the tracks of his tears still clearly visible on his cheeks. He had tried to wipe them away, but they still lined his face. "The doctors will let us know when he has come out from under the anesthetic and is moved to his own room," she answered. "They'll let you see him then, but I'm not sure how many they'll let into the room at one time." "We don't care if they let us enter in small groups or one at a time," Kevin told her. "We just want to see him, that's all." "Yes," Dustin added. "We need to see him with our own eyes, so we can see for ourselves that he's okay." "We don't know what we'd have done without him," Ricky chimed in. "I can't even remember what it was like before he took me in. He changed my whole life, but I still need him." "We all need him," Pat offered, in support of Ricky's statement. "I didn't realize how much until the past couple of weeks. He's taught me a lot and I need him to keep letting me know when I'm not acting very smart." "Don't worry, boys, the doctors only see minor problems ahead," she confirmed. "I think I understand how strongly you feel and I'm glad you appreciate who he is and what he's done for you. I'm sure he would have downplayed what you just told me, but he could never minimize how much he loves all of you and how deeply he cares about your future. You are as important to him, as he is to you. He would do anything for you boys, even more than he did for that boy in school, when he stepped in front of him to keep him from getting shot. He sacrificed his own body to save that young man and there's no telling how far he'd go to help one of you. You're are indeed very lucky to have found each other." "We can thank you for part of that, Aunt Sally," Trey responded. "You were the one who led most of us into his arms and his home. We owe you too and we're also grateful that you're here for us now that we need you again." "Trey, I wouldn't be anywhere else," Sally confirmed. "Josh asked me if I would be willing to assume guardianship of you, if anything should happen to him. I was hesitant at first, but then I thought I couldn't do anything less than he had, so I finally agreed to assume that responsibility. I didn't ever suspect I would actually be called upon to fill in, but I would never turn my back on you boys or shirk the promise that I made to your dad. I'm here for as long as you need me, but I hope Josh will be taking over again, as quickly as he can." "Nothing against you, Aunt Sally," Dion told her, "but we do too. We love you, but we'd prefer to have Dad back." "And that's exactly how it should be. No offense taken," she agreed. The whole group continued to wait, but Sally soon realized it would most likely be some time before the boys would be able to see me. She talked to several of the nurses and each suggested it would probably be early evening, at the earliest, before I'd be moved and ready to see visitors. With that information in hand, Sally talked the boys into going out to eat first, after which they could return to visit. Reluctantly they agreed and Sally took them to a restaurant for dinner. The boys were very quiet throughout the meal and only picked at their food. Sally tried to conduct a conversation with them, but the boys didn't feel much like talking, either. When the meal was finally over, they all thanked Sally for taking them out as they loaded back into my van and then rode back to the hospital in near total silence. Ricky was holding Andrew, while Sammy was sitting on Danny's lap and Graham was clinging to Kevin. Outside of Cole, who had witnessed what happened, the little ones were probably the most deeply affected by this incident, especially now with the uncertainty of Sammy and Andrew's grandparents appearance in our lives. The older boys did everything they could to comfort them, and Sally happened to notice this as she looked into the rear-view mirror. Instead of commenting about it, she just smiled to herself and thought how much like me they now were. After they arrived at the hospital, they went to the front desk and inquired as to my condition and my location. After a couple of phone calls, they were told I was currently being moved to my own room and it would be about another half an hour before anyone would be able to see me. Somewhat dejected by the news, the boys dragged Sally into the gift shop, so they could look around. The clerk was uneasy with all of the boys wandering around, but she needn't have worried. The boys were looking for a gift to purchase for me. It was Graham who first saw the item they eventually agreed upon and asked Sally if they could borrow the money to purchase it. She agreed, so they made their purchase and then went back out to the lobby to wait. They sat there for another fifteen or twenty minutes, before the phone in the lobby rang. Hesitantly, it was Dustin who walked over to pick it up. "Hello," he said into the mouthpiece. "May I speak to someone from the Currie family?" the voice on the other end asked. "This is Dustin Currie. I'm the oldest son," he stated, although not quite accurately. He seemed to have forgotten about his two older brothers. "Great. Your father has been moved to room 317," she announced. "Just take the elevator to the third floor and follow the signs from there. It's been agreed that his family may visit him for a brief time, but no one else." "Thank you," Dustin told her. "You don't know how much this means to us." After hanging up, he filled in the others. Excited by this news, they walked down and entered the elevator, taking it to the third floor. Once they disembarked, they followed the signs to room 317. A nurse stopped them before entering and questioned who they were. Sally explained the situation and the nurse looked the group over. After being assured they were all his sons, the nurse finally agreed to let them go in, but quickly warned them to keep the noise down and not get me too excited. After agreeing to her demands, they walked in. Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 2 by BW Copyright 2009 by billwstories Chapter 34 -- All's Well That Ends Well. I was lying on the bed, starting to drift off to sleep, as they entered. When I heard the door open, I opened my eyes and was thrilled to see my boys again. They walked in and surrounded my bed, each one reaching out to touch me somewhere. Sally stood just slightly inside the entrance, watching us and smiling. The boys were all talking at once, telling me how worried they had been and wanting to know how I was doing. I informed them I was a little sore, but otherwise felt fine. I explained what the doctors had told me earlier, which was that I could probably come home in a few days, although I would have some difficulty getting around for a while. It's possible I downplayed what the doctors had said, but I didn't want the boys to go home and agonize about me all evening. They didn't need that and I didn't want to have to worry about them losing sleep over me. Quietly, Cole and Graham worked their way up beside me and handed me a small bag. I took it from them, thanked them and opened it. It was one of those little statues that said, 'The World's Greatest Dad." Tears started streaming down my cheeks the moment I saw it, so I just looked up and thanked them as best I could. That's when Graham announced it was from all of them and I just smiled and said, "I know." The boys visited for a short time, before the nurse came in to shoo them out, telling them that I needed my rest. They all came over and kissed me good night, with Andrew, Sammy and Graham needing a helping hand from their brothers to be able to reach me without jiggling my body or bumping my wounds. I kissed each and every one of them, thanked Sally for all of her help and bid them all sweet dreams. It wasn't long after they left that my medications kicked in and I drifted off, into the land of oblivion. Once they left the hospital, Sally quickly drove over to her place, so she could pack up a few items she would need for a stay at our place. She threw together only what she needed for overnight and would pick up more after work tomorrow, before she collected the boys again. At that time she planned to take enough to last her for a couple of weeks or more, because she felt she might need to stay there even after I got home, since I probably wouldn't be able to do very much for a while. After they got home, the boys all helped to take care of each other and made sure that everyone remembered to wear clothes at all times. There was a great deal of doubling and tripling up in beds that evening, as everyone desired company. Each of them was still upset about what had happened earlier and, therefore, didn't want to spend the night alone. Kevin and Dustin spent the night cuddled together and clinging to each other, while Ricky, Cole, Graham, Sammy and Andrew slept together on the king-size bed in the jungle room. Cole and Graham had Andrew securely tucked between them, since he was so upset, while Ricky kept Sammy wrapped under his arm most of the evening. Trey bunked in with Dion, and Pat slept in Danny's room, so no one was alone -- except for Aunt Sally, who slept in my room. Before everyone went up to bed, Sally suggested they each say a special prayer, thanking God for letting me survive the attack. It didn't take much to convince them to follow her advice, so the boys all did it together, in the upstairs hallway, before going to their rooms. I don't remember much about that evening in the hospital, since I was so drugged up, and the next day I spent much of my time alone. Sally understood I would have wanted the boys to go to school and resume their normal activities, and she went back to work, after promising she'd pick them up later in the day and bring them for another visit with me. Therefore, I had plenty of time to think about a great many things. The first thing was to consider my mortality and start making plans for the boys, in case something worse should happen to me. I would discuss this with my older children too, to see if they had any suggestions, since I wanted to make certain the boys would be able to stay together. It would be tough enough for them if they lost me, without having to worry about losing each other in the process too. I was now committed to getting this done soon, just to be on the safe side. After that, I began to consider if I should retire early, possibly even taking a disability related retirement, due to my injuries. I finally decided that would be much too drastic a reaction to what happened and decided to keep my job, and everything else, just the way it was. The next decision was when I should schedule having the artificial knee put in. I made a tentative choice of a date, but I would have to talk to Sally first, as she would be the one getting stuck holding down the fort until I got better. I wanted to make sure this fit into her schedule as well, as I was already imposing on her far more than I felt I should. As things worked out, Sally popped in to see me at lunchtime. She also had Steve Shay in tow. They both asked how I was feeling and promised me the boys would be taken care of and everything else was fine. Steve was also helping to run errands with the boys and taking care of anything else Sally needed a hand with. After several minutes of this and other mundane matters, they began to inquire into the details about what had happened the day I got shot. Steve wanted to know how I was feeling about what should happen to the boy who shot me, which seemed logical consideration for a family court judge. I informed him that the boy had been acting out of frustration and the intended victim had been harassing both him and Cole. I then explained that I felt the boy who did the shooting should receive psychological counseling, but no punitive sentence. When he thought I was hinting about what he should do, Steve quickly explained that he wouldn't be handling this case, because of our friendship, but he would relay my suggestions, through unofficial channels, to the family court judge who would be filling in. I then discussed possible operation dates with both of them, seeing they were both planning to help cover for me during my convalescence, and we came up with several possible dates, depending upon the doctor's schedule. I asked Sally to let the boys know I was fine and she just laughed and confirmed she wouldn't be able to keep them away from the hospital with several teams of horses. She informed me she'd be bringing them all over after she got out of work and I would be able to tell them myself. Sally then told me about how my gift was selected the previous evening, along with some of the discussion that had taken place before they settled on that little statue. She said the boys were worried about much more than just what would happen to them and that there greatest concerns were about me. They were primarily worried if I'd have any long-term effects from the shooting and hoped I didn't become an invalid due to what happened. She emphasized that even though they did occasionally refer to possibly being split up or things of that nature, their main focus was on the fact that I recover completely, without any long-term disabilities, even if that meant we might not be together for a period of time. I was deeply touched by that information. Sally then informed me about how she woke up in the middle of the night and decided to go upstairs and check on the boys. My first thought was I'd hoped they wore something to bed and she didn't catch them in any compromising positions, but the boys seemed to be one step ahead of me on that front. She then explained who had slept where and with whom, for comfort, and she thought it was sweet that they had all taken care of each other. From her lack of negative reaction to her account, I assumed they had all been dressed appropriately and no one was engaged in any activities that might arouse suspicion. As we were talking, one of the nurses came in and turned on my television, as there was something she thought I might like to see. It was then that I discovered the shooting had even garnered national attention. It wasn't a lead story, because no one was killed, but it did receive a small mention on each channel's news broadcast, and later in nearly every national publication of prominence. I think that was due, in part, to the earlier attention we'd received for our unique family composition. The boys told me later that I was being portrayed as a hero for saving Henry Prosser from getting shot, possibly even killed. The anchorpersons were saying how selflessly I had acted and the boys told me how very proud they were of me, before admonishing me to never do anything like that again. I replied, "Yes, daddies," in my best childish voice, but no one laughed. Instead, they informed me they were serious and didn't want to have to worry about me like this again. "We like the idea of you being a hero and all," Kevin told me, "but I think we'd all rather just have our dad. We don't need no stinking super hero," he added, in his best Cheech imitation, which brought a round of chuckles from the others, "but we do need you," he added, in a more serious tone. "Dad, if something like that happens again," Pat informed me, "could you please let someone else handle it? We don't want to have to go through this ever again." I looked at them and knew how they were feeling, but I didn't want to give them false hope. Instead, I was honest with them. "In the future, I will be more careful in similar situations, if they should come up," I agreed, "but if it comes to saving one of your lives or the life of another child, I can't say that I wouldn't do the same thing all over." "I guess we knew that's what you were going to say," Ricky confessed, "but we had to try. It's just that we don't want anything to ever happen to you." I think a few tears slid down my cheeks at that point. "I'm deeply touched by your concern," I admitted, "and I will try to be much more careful in any similar situations. Will that do?" They all agreed and everyone seemed happy. After a couple of hours, I informed them I had to get some rest and they needed to go eat. After having Danny get my wallet from the nurse on duty, I gave my credit card to Sally and told her to use it to cover all of their expenses. She said she hadn't been concerned about such trivial details, but I knew I felt better knowing she had it. As they got ready to leave, I got another round of kisses and a great many 'get well soon' wishes. When the doctor came in the next day, we scheduled my knee surgery. Since he thought I was doing well, he would just keep me in the hospital until it was done, three days hence. The doctor told me that not only was my quick recovery helpful and the fact I was still fairly young, but it was more important that I had kept myself in decent shape. I joked that it wasn't hard to stay in shape, with eleven sons to chase around, which caused him to laugh. He then added he didn't need to hear the details about what I had to do to keep up with them, before admitting he didn't plan to ever have that many children, so he'd never find out that way either. On my third night in the hospital, I had another surprise visitor. Sally and the boys had just left a few minutes before to go and get dinner, when in walked Hank Prosser and his parents. We exchanged greetings and then Mr. Prosser got the ball rolling. "Hank, what do you want to tell Mr. Currie?" he prodded. "Mr. Currie, I just wanted to thank you for saving me from Eddie the other day," he uttered, in almost a whisper. The whole time he was speaking, he was looking at the side of my mattress and not at me. "And what else did you want to say?" his father encouraged him, again. "That I know what happened was mostly my fault, because I picked on him… a lot," he added. "I promise I won't do that ever again and I'm really sorry." "Are you promising that you just won't do this to Eddie again, or do you mean you won't do this to any of the other children?" I asked him. "To anyone," he responded, without looking up. "That includes Cole too." As he confirmed that, he looked up and locked onto my eyes for the first time. "We've learned a lot about what Hank has been doing," his mother added, "and we're going to make certain it doesn't happen again. We hadn't known any of this prior to the shooting, but Eddie Weeks and his parents have filled us in on much of it since then. We won't say that what Eddie did was right, but we can see that Hank helped provoke his response." "We want you to accept our apology, as well as Hank's," his father continued. "We feel responsible for his actions and, therefore, partially responsible for what happened to you. Hank is going to repay all of the children he took money from and he's going to apologize to them and their parents in person. He also got a good ass whoopin' for what he did, but I think that knowing he was almost shot because of his actions was enough to scare him into not repeating his mistakes." As I looked at them, I considered what they'd said. I'd known the Prossers for some time, as Hank had both an older and younger sister, and they were good working class parents who had always shown a great concern for their children. They had always been an active part of the school community, attending school functions and actively taking part in parent-teacher conferences. That's how I knew they would be true to their word. "Hank, I hope you've learned an important lesson from this," I told him. "There's an old saying that says, 'what goes around, comes around.' It almost came around to you in the worst possible way. I was going to be speaking with you that afternoon anyway, because Cole and I were discussing what you were doing to him again, when I heard the commotion in the hall. You're lucky that Cole had kept me in my office to tell me about his problem or I might not have been around to help you." "Yes, sir. I'm sorry and you can whoop my butt too," he agreed, "when you come back to school. I know I deserve it." "I'm not sure that will be necessary, if you've truly learned your lesson," I informed him, to his extreme relief. I wasn't sure if it was his idea to add that offer or if his parents had suggested it to him before they arrived. Either way, I think he was grateful it wasn't going to happen. "I will keep it in mind, though, if you should start up again," I added, to give him another slight deterrent. "Yes, sir. Thank you, but I won't do it again," he reiterated. "Good. I'm glad to hear that," I agreed. I said good-bye to Hank and his parents and they left. After thinking about everything that had happened, I concluded I'd be happy to have more parents like the Prossers. They didn't have much money or a bunch of degrees, but they did have values, common sense and loved their children. Don't get me wrong, they weren't the Norman Rockwell portrait of the ideal family either, but they took responsibility for their own actions and those of their children, and they did their best to instill a good moral code into their offspring. Children sometimes refuse to follow their parents example and rebel, but these parents were still doing their job and Hank was going to fall into line, whether he liked it or not. It may have taken an incident like this to drive the point home to Hank, but he would have gotten it sooner or later. When Sally and the boys returned, I told them about my visitors. Cole piped up and told me that I should take Hank up on his offer and spank him good and hard. I understood where he was coming from, but I would follow-up on this and discuss it more with him later, instead of doing it now. Instead, I visited with the boys for an hour or so, before encouraging them to go home, do their homework and get ready for bed. As they were leaving, Danny and Dustin hung back. They promised me that, as the two oldest, they would take care of all of the boys, so Aunt Sally wouldn't be bothered, and they guaranteed me each of them would wear clothes, as long as Aunt Sally was there. I thanked them for their help, gave them both hugs and then they left. As I watched them exit my room, I realized how proud I was of the fine young men they were growing into. Two days later I had another unexpected visitor, but this time it was Eddie Weeks and his parents. He had been released into their custody after his initial hearing, but he was staying home from school for the time being, until things settled down. They came in shortly after lunch and Eddie walked in with his head hung low, as he walked up to my bed. Slowly, he lifted his face and looked at me, scanning my body from one end to the other, checking out all of the bandages that were visible and staring at the tubes sticking into my body. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Currie," he apologized. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I really like you. You're a nice principal. I feel really bad that I hurt you like that. I just couldn't stand Hank picking on me like he did and I was going to stop him from doing it any more. I didn't want to hurt you. Will you forgive me? Please?" He looked sincere and very sorry for his actions; at least the part that concerned what happened to me. I wasn't so sure he was sorry he'd missed hitting Hank with a couple of bullets though. "Yes, Eddie. I'll forgive you," I told him, with a stipulation, "but only if you'll promise me that you'll talk to me first, if you have any other problems." "I promise, Mr. Currie. I'll always come to you first," he agreed, while barely cracking a smile. I reached out and took his hand, planning to shake on his promise, but instead he lifted my hand up and held it against his face. His parents stood back and merely watched what was going on. Eddie had very good and caring parents as well, but he had just reached his breaking point and that caused him to do something foolish. I knew his father had handguns, shotguns and rifles, in his house. He was a hunter and owned his own farm, so he sometimes also used them when slaughtering a cow or a pig. He had taught Eddie how to use and respect those weapons, but Eddie simply forgot his previous training, due to his rage. I didn't blame either him or his parents for what happened to me. "Mr. Currie," Eddie's father began, "we're all very sorry about what happened. Eddie has felt real bad about everything, especially about you. We've had several talks about what he did and I can assure you he won't ever pull a stunt like that again. Right, Eddie?" "Yes, Papa. I am sorry, Mr. Currie," he confirmed. "I hope you don't hate me for what happened, but I could understand it if you did. I still like you, though." "And I like you too, Eddie," I confessed, "and I accept your apology. You behave and I'll see you in school when I get back." They left my room and I thought about their visit. Both boys and their parents had come to me to apologize, in person. I know the boys probably had little choice in the matter, but I thought it showed remarkable humility and concern on their parent's part. They were taking responsibility for what had happened and not making excuses for their sons, as well as making them promise they wouldn't do anything like that ever again. I guess what happened wasn't totally bad, since another valuable lesson had been learned and I was the only one who had been injured. E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive' comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com - but please put the story title in the subject line, so it doesn't get deleted as junk mail.