Date: Sat, 10 Oct 2009 15:42:24 EDT From: Bwstories8@aol.com Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening - Book 2, chapters 35 -36 Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 2 by BW Copyright 2009 by billwstories Chapter 35 -- Changes. **Author's Note:** Please read the disclaimer in Chapter 00 before you read this. Sally had called my grown children and told them about what had happened, the evening of the shooting. She had assured them I was doing fine and even added there was no threat to my life, although the injuries had been fairly serious. She talked them into waiting until the following weekend to come and see me, and that's just what they did. They began to arrive on Friday evening and by Saturday morning they were all present and accounted for, including my grandchildren. My older children got permission for my grandsons to be able to visit me, but the little ones were very upset when they first saw me lying in the hospital bed. After answering many of their questions and involving them in a discussion about what happened and why, as well as an assurance that the doctor promised I was going to be fine, the boys began to calm down. After that, the visit went fine. At home that evening, the boys did the usual doubling and tripling up on the sleeping arrangements, in order to make room for the others. However, in the end, it turned out not to be necessary. A group of the boys decided to hold a 'pajama party', well underwear party, in the family room, so they could be close to Jordan and Nicky. It had been Ricky's suggestion, but it quickly caught on. First, Cole and Graham announced they liked the idea and were going to join in, and not long after that Sammy and Andrew agreed that it sounded like a good idea and wanted to participate too. A short time later, Trey and Dion asked if they could join the fun as well and the others quickly told them they were more than welcome. The boys all lugged down their sleeping bags and pillows, while bringing extras down for Jordan and Nicky, so they could have an indoor campout. My adult children thought it was a great idea, since it distracted Jordan and Nicky from worrying about my condition, while they concentrated on having fun. It also gave my grandsons the opportunity they were looking forward to, which was spending time with their uncles. All in all, they had a great time on their own, although occasionally a parent or two had to wander into that room, just to get them to quiet down and get things back under control. While I was visiting alone with my older children, we talked about many things. A few thought possibly I should retire and focus on the family, seeing money was no longer an issue, but that also brought up the topic of what would happen to the boys, if anything should happen to me. None of them felt they would be able to move here or take the boys to live with them, which I agreed with and hadn't expected. Hearing their views, I made sure to emphasize that what I was looking for were suggestions, not volunteers. This did seem to take the pressure off them and we did kick around some other possibilities. Now, I only had one more job to perform, and that was allaying my grown offspring's concerns about my upcoming surgery. They thought I was possibly trying to do too much too soon, by scheduling the surgery before I had fully recovered and returned home. I kept reiterating that my physician thought I was strong enough to go through it, or else he would have made me cancel the operation. After a few more points were raised and discussed, they finally gave up their protests and were able to enjoy the rest of our visit, before I sent them all on their way. By Sunday afternoon, my older children had to leave and get back to their lives and work. Before they did, though, they all returned to the hospital to see me one more time. I was somewhat sad to see the visit conclude, but realized I'd be seeing them again during the summer. My grandsons, however, didn't want to leave and started to protest. Fortunately, the boys were able to convince them it would only be a few more months before they would come to join us for the summer and go on vacation with us. That seemed to make them feel better and helped them cope with going back home. Before they left, however, they made their way through a sea of hugs and kisses, as we all said our good-byes. By the end of the next week, I had my artificial knee joint put in and was back home recuperating, if you can recuperate in a houseful of boys. In an effort to make it easier on me, Sally and Steve hired a home health aide to assist me during the day, while the boys were at school. She would fix my lunch, keep the downstairs clean, do loads of laundry for me, run errands and would even do the grocery shopping for me, after we made out the list together. She was a godsend. Sally also kept my van while I was laid up, so she could drive to our house every morning, pick-up the boys and take them to school. Each afternoon after she finished work, she would also pick them up, bring them home, fix our dinner and then stay and eat with us. The boys convinced Aunt Sally they would be able, and willing, to help me at night, so she could go home and sleep in her own bed. I think this was more to allow them to run around in their natural state than anything else, but she happily agreed. Once I was back home, Pat also agreed to swap rooms with Dion. Pat took the smaller room, with the single bed, so Dion could have the room with the double bed, since Trey stayed with Dion most of the time now. I complimented Pat on his generosity, but he just smiled and explained he still had a lot of making up to do. I understood what he was saying, but informed him he had more than taken care of that. All he had to offer in reply was, 'we'll see.' During their first night in their new bed, Trey was lying beside Dion after they were settled in. Uncharacteristically, Dion was a little restless that night and kept tossing and turning every few seconds. "What's the matter, Dion?" Trey asked. "Can't you get comfortable in here?" "No, it seems different and we're not as close together as we were in the other room," Dion responded, although his answer could be taken to mean different things. "That's why Pat switched with us," Trey confirmed. "In the other bed, we were almost lying on top of each other all night long." "But I kind of liked it that way," Dion admitted. "Sure, it was a little crowded sometimes, but I always knew you were there. I don't know, it just feels different." "Would it make you feel better if we did something, you know, so you can relax?" Trey offered. "Yeah. You want to play with my dick?" Dion asked, unable to hide his eagerness. "Sure, but do you want to try something new?" Trey suggested. "That way you can have new memories for the new bed." "Like what do you have in mind?" Dion asked, wanting to make sure what he was agreeing to first. "Well, I could suck on your cock to make you cum," Trey offered. "EEWW! That sounds gross," Dion acknowledged, while make a face. "It isn't really and it feels a lot better than when you use your hand," Trey assured him, in an effort to convince Dion it wasn't that bad. "Doesn't it taste like pee?" Dion wondered. "No. Actually it doesn't have much taste at all," Trey acknowledged. "It's kind of like licking your hand." Dion thought about it for a minute and then licked the back of his own hand to see what it tasted like. "You mean that's all it tastes like?" Dion mused, as he started to seriously consider Trey's suggestion. "Yeah, except for the cum, but that's not bad either," Trey informed him. "With some guys, it can be a little salty, but with others it can taste kind of sweet too." "You mean you've tasted the jizz, too?" Dion challenged, totally shocked. "Yeah, of course," Trey responded, trying to downplay Dion's surprise. "It's wild, feeling a guy shoot in your mouth and it's even wilder when you shoot your load in somebody else's hot throat." "Well, I guess we could do it," Dion conceded. "You were right about my liking it when we did it the other way. I wasn't so sure when you explained what my gram told me wasn't true, but I trusted you and ended up loving what we did. So, okay, I'll try it. What should I do?" "You lie back and I'll do it to you first," Trey suggested. "You just try to remember what I do, so you can do it back to me, when it's your turn." "Yeah, fine," Dion agreed, although not enthusiastically. Dion did as he was told and Trey reached over and started to stroke his impressive package. It didn't take long for Dion's heart to start pumping a large quantity of blood into his tool and it rose proudly from where it lay against his body. Trey just admired it in the dim light of the moon and was thankful that, although it was quite long, it was also rather slender. He might gag a little, but at least it wouldn't dislocate his jaw. When it reached its full length, Trey slid down next to Dion's waist, so he could begin. Trey began by teasing Dion a little, sticking his tongue out and making a few quick swipes at various areas along his prick. This caused Dion to moan and squirm from nearly every touch. Slowly, Trey began to lick the base of Dion's pulsing mast and all around his scrotum. Even though Dion had a long schlong for his age, he had fairly small testicles. That didn't seem to hinder his production of semen, as Trey knew from earlier jack-off sessions, but it did look a little strange hanging below that awesome piece of meat. Trey was able to take Dion's testicles into his mouth and suck on them for a while, swirling them about in his warm, moist orifice. Dion's body was now thrashing about on the bed from this attention, as he had never felt such wonderful sensations before. When Trey had finished with Dion's scrotum, Trey started to lick up the length of Dion's dick, which in turn caused Dion to bounce around, as if he were in an active earthquake zone. However, Dion's moaning sounded more like a boy with a tummy-ache and would suggest he was thrashing about in pain. Regardless, Trey kept working his way up Dion's hard pole until he was licking the mushroom head and flicking his tongue in his pulsing slit. Dion was now reaching out for Trey's head, trying to force him to swallow his monument. Trey felt Dion's hands on his head, which let him know he had teased Dion long enough and it was time to give him a different type of pleasure. Without hesitation, Trey wrapped his lips around Dion's dickhead and began to slide his lips down the silky sides of Dion's boyhood. Dion let out a big groan, as he felt his penis become totally engulfed by Trey's hot, moist oral lining, thinking this must be the most wonderful thing in the world. He had been consumed with what was going on, when suddenly it got even better, as Trey began sliding his mouth up and down Dion's shaft, while also sucking on each upward movement. Dion's moaning was now a series of little whimpers, almost as if he were begging Trey to give him relief. Trey loved the sounds Dion was making, and the knowledge he was causing Dion to experience such pleasure made him work even harder to help bring him off. Trey was bobbing up and down more quickly now, trying to give Dion the climax he desired, and most likely needed now. Dion must have been close, because he began to thrust his hips upward, in an effort to meet each of Trey's downward lunges. The combination of these actions now brought Dion to the brink of ecstasy, so he made one final thrust upward and released his load into Trey's throat. The first two bursts went directly down Trey's gullet, but Trey managed to pull his head back slightly, so he could capture the following spurts in his mouth. He kept working on Dion's monster until it quit spitting its tasty cream, but Trey didn't release it until Dion's body collapsed back onto the bed. Dion's chest was heaving and his breathing was ragged, but it appeared as if he had just had his best climax ever. As Dion recovered, Trey crawled up the length of the bed and hovered over Dion's head, watching him enjoy his warm orgasmic afterglow. When Dion finally opened his eyes, Trey was in his line of sight, so Dion gave him a wonderful grin. When Trey saw him do that, he opened his mouth to show Dion its contents. "Is that my cum?" Dion asked, in wonder. Trey merely nodded his head up and down and moved his mouth toward Dion's. Dion wasn't sure about what was about to happen, but he eventually went along with it. Tentatively, he stuck his tongue out and put it into Trey's mouth, taking a taste of his own juices for the very first time. Once he thought he had enough of a sample, Dion brought his tongue back into his own mouth and tried to absorb the flavor. "You're right," he announced. "It's not that bad tasting, but what you did to me was outstanding. That had to be the best one yet. Thanks for talking me into it." "Oh, it was my pleasure," Trey agreed. "You sure do have a tasty piece of meat and I can't seem to get enough of it." That caused Dion to grin again, as he enjoyed the compliment. "Okay. I'm ready to do it for you now," Dion announced, feeling a little more confident about returning the favor. Eager for his own release, Trey quickly finished swallowing Dion's load and switched places with him on the bed. Dion took no time at all to swing into position and immediately began to play with Trey's foreskin, gently tugging it back and forth. He was mesmerized by the way he could uncover and then recover his cock head, as it was so very new and different to him. Finally, he tired of this game and pulled the skin all the way back, so he could lick all around Trey's glans. Trey's sensitive head nearly exploded, as Dion's hot tongue came into contact with it, but it got even better when Dion twirled his tongue all around the helmet and then up and down the sides of his shaft. After doing that for a minute or so, Dion slipped his head down to Trey's ball bag and began to suck on Trey's large nuggets. He could only get one of them into his mouth at a time, but he enthusiastically sucked on each one individually, as Trey moaned out his chorus of approval. Hearing this made Dion felt great, because it convinced him that he could give Trey the same good fillings that Trey had given him. Inspired to try even harder, he eagerly worked his way up Trey's cock until he could take it into his mouth. Trey released a loud groan, as Dion slid his warm lips down along the velvety sides of his penis. He began to frantically hump his hips upward, in an attempt to fuck Dion's face, but Dion managed to maintain control of the situation. He rocked up and down on Trey's uncut sausage, letting his lips form a seal around his rod, as he attempted to suction Trey's seed to the surface. Dion frantically nodded his head up and down on Trey's mast, until he felt Trey's body shudder and go rigid, just before he unleashed his thick, rich spunk into Dion's waiting throat. Dion sucked and swallowed, not wishing to waste a drop, and continued that way until there was nothing left in the tube. Dion let Trey's log drop out of his mouth and sat up, smiling at Trey, until Trey came down from his climactic high. "Well, how did I do?" Dion asked eagerly. "You did great," Trey panted back. "That was terrific. You did an awesome job." "Thanks. The whole thing was great," Dion agreed. "I'm glad you're so smart about all of this stuff. I love the way you teach me things." "Hey, I enjoy teaching you," Trey confirmed, "and you're a pretty quick learner too." Dion only smiled back in response. "Well, I think you took care of my problem," Dion whispered into Trey's ear, as they began to settle in and get comfortable. "I'm pretty sure I'll be able to sleep now. Actually, I'm a little tired. What do you say we turn in now?" "Good idea," Trey agreed. "Good night, big boy." Dion didn't miss the meaning behind that little comment either, but he just smiled from its implication. "Good night, Trey, and thanks. You're a pretty awesome, dude." Both boys lay on the bed, but immediately reached out to touch each other. Eventually, Trey pulled Dion close to him, so they could snuggle against each other. He wrapped his arm across Dion's chest and a leg over his lower torso, and they stayed that way, until they faded off into oblivion. Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 2 by BW Copyright 2009 by billwstories Chapter 36 -- Apologies and Additions. My days at home soon started to fall into a routine. Steve came to have lunch with me a couple times a week and we would talk about different things. Most of all, he would keep me informed about Eddie's case. He had scheduled a meeting between the judge handling the case and me, so I could discuss my ideas about a suitable punishment for Eddie. When the time came, Steve accompanied me and we were able to agree upon a suitable sentence. With Steve's help, I also managed to attend court on the day Eddie heard his sentence. When the judge asked him if he had anything to say, he walked over in front of me and told me how very sorry he was for what had happened and then he turned to the judge and told him the same thing. The judge emphasized the seriousness of his actions, but then explained he was getting a break on the sentencing. The judge informed Eddie that we had talked this over and I insisted he didn't belong in a juvenile detention center. I heard Eddie's parents breathe a sigh of relief as the judge told him what his sentence was. In the end, Eddie was ordered to receive psychological counseling from the Department of Mental Health and do ten hours of community service each week for, a year. He would spend one hour a day after school and two and a half hours on both Saturday and Sunday in the children's ward of the hospital. He was to read the children stories, play games with them and help keep them entertained, while they were getting better. After it was over, Eddie came up to me and gave me a hug and told me he was very sorry, once more, and then he thanked me for not letting them send him to reform school. I knew he was truly repentant about what he had done and wouldn't do anything like that again. After giving us time alone, his parents also came over to thank me for convincing the judge not to send their boy away. I explained it wasn't that difficult of a decision, as I always thought Eddie was basically a good kid. They all thanked me one more time, before they left the courthouse. On the way back into the house, I stopped to pick up the mail. I had been getting many get well cards from friends, acquaintances, teachers, students and parents, so I was always eager to see whom I was going to hear from next. Although I was generally surprised by some of the people who took time to do this, today was even stranger, as I got a letter from a totally unexpected source. After seeing the return address, I opened the envelope and read it. Dear Mr. Currie, I read about you getting shot in the newspaper. I'm real sorry and hope you get better soon. You are a nice man and the boys need you an awful lot. I've learned a lot since I've been away and I know now how I blew my chance to have a nice home and good family to live with. I wanted to tell you that I am sorry for what I did when I was there and I want you to tell Trey that I'm sorry, too. I had no right to do what I did to him and I know that now. Some of the older and bigger guys here did the same thing to me. I didn't like it at all and felt guilty afterward that I tried to do that to Trey. I hope none of you still hate me for all the rotten things I did while I was there. I was hoping that maybe you'd let me stop by and say hello to you when I get out. I'd like to tell all of you in person that I'm sorry. It just doesn't seem good enough to say it in this letter. I was a jerk and now I am paying for it. I've learned my lesson and don't blame anybody but me for what happened. I just wish that I'd listened to you when you tried to tell me that what I was doing was wrong. I hope you get well soon and hope you will also write back to me. Your friend, Frankie It seemed as if Frankie had learned a lesson, and I sincerely hoped that was indeed the case. It's too bad he had to learn it the hard way. It sounds as though it hasn't been very easy for him since he was taken away and I was saddened to hear he had also been sexually assaulted and probably physically abused by some of the other inmates. I felt bad about that and planned to write him back. I wanted to let him know we accept his apology and would welcome a visit from him. I would discuss this with Trey and clear it with him first, before I sent out any such letter of invitation. My recovery had been a little slow, at least to me, but I now felt I was nearly healed. I was still using a cane when I walked, as an aid to help me until I adjusted to my new knee, but I was getting around fairly well. I wasn't sprinting and it was more of a hobble, but at least I wasn't bedridden or confined to a wheelchair or a walker. It was now nearing the end of March and the weather was beginning to warm slightly. It was a Friday afternoon and the boys had just arrived home, when the doorbell rang. Ricky answered it and was soon leading a teenage boy into the family room to see me. It seemed odd he was here, because none of us seemed to know him. "Dad," Ricky said, "this guy says he needs to talk to Mr. Currie. Is that okay with you?" "Yes, Ricky. I'll speak with him," I agreed, so Ricky left us alone. Studying the boy, I wondered what he wanted. Almost forgetting my manners, I finally remembered to offer him a seat. "Mr. Currie,sir, my name is Carlos Garcia," he began. "I read about you in the magazines and also in the newspaper, after you got shot. That's how I was able to find where you live. I was wondering if I could live here with you?" Needless to say, I was caught completely off-guard by his request. "Carlos, I will need to know much more about you and your situation first, before I can decide anything like that," I informed him. He looked a little disappointed I didn't say yes immediately, but didn't give up. "What do you wish to know?" he asked, trying to comply with my request. "Well, for starters, why do you want to live here?" I asked. "Because I read that you have a good home and you are a good man," he stated, with a great deal of feeling. "It said in the magazine that you adopted many boys and that you are a good father. I wish to have that too." "Don't you have any parents or someone who is responsible for you?" I pressed. Surely a boy his age couldn't be living on his own! "I lived with my mother, when we come to this country from Mexico. We lived in California until she met a man and then we moved to Philadelphia with him. He does not like me and is very mean to me. My mother says that I must do as he says, because it is his house. When he beat me with his belt, I run away. I was not going to let him keep doing that to me." "How old are you, Carlos?" I asked, not sure if I was judging his age correctly. "I am fourteen, sir," he quickly informed me. "And why did this man beat you with his belt?" I asked, trying to clarify the issue. Carlos froze when I asked him this. It was as if he was afraid to answer. After some coaxing, he told me the story. "My mother was working and Roberto, that's the man's name, wanted me to get him a beer from the refrigerator. I did, but I was not careful when I set it on the coffee table. It tipped over and spilled all over his cocaine. He had the powder on the table and the beer made it all wet and no good any more. Roberto took off his belt and started beating me with it. He was screaming about how much money I had just wasted. I ran from the apartment and was too afraid to go back. "When I saw the story in the newspaper about you getting shot, I also remembered the story about your family from the magazine. I was able to find out what city you lived in from the newspaper and was able to get rides to get here. I asked many people where you lived until one man told me how to get to your house. Will you please let me live here with you?" "Carlos, you can stay here for now, while I check with friends of mine to see what we can do legally," I informed him. "I'm curious however. Why didn't you go to the police and report him?" "My mother is not legal in this country," he admitted. "We sneaked across the border at night. If I go to the police, they will send us back to Mexico." He was almost ready to begin weeping at this point, but I could tell he was fighting back his tears. "Look, I'll see what I can do, but you'll stay here while I check it out," I agreed. I called for Ricky and he came back into the room. "Ricky, would you find Pat and Danny for me? I need to ask them a question." "Sure, Dad. I'll be right back," he confirmed, as he raced from the room. "Carlos, do you have any clothes or other belongings?" I asked him. "No, sir. When I left, I did not have time to pack any of my things," he explained. "If I had gone back to get them, Roberto would have beaten me worse." "That's okay. We'll buy you some things to tide you over," I assured him, which caused him to smile, slightly, almost as if he was sure I was going to do that before I told him. Pretty soon Ricky returned, with Pat and Danny in tow. "What do you need, Dad?" Pat asked. "Pat and Danny, this is Carlos and he needs a place to stay," I informed them. "Would you two mind sharing Danny's room, so Carlos can stay in Pat's room temporarily, at least until we can figure out what's going to happen with him?" "Sure, Dad. No problem," Pat answered, while Danny stood impassively beside him. Pat then looked at Carlos and spoke. "Hi, I'm Pat. Come on. I'll show you up to your room." "Hold on a second, champ," I warned him. "Danny, are you okay with this?" I pressed, to see how he felt about this arrangement. "Sure, Dad. I don't mind sharing my room with Pat. We do it a lot, anyway," he confirmed, much to my relief. Having heard their concession, I turned to Carlos. "Okay, Carlos, you have a room for the time being, but now I have a question for you. Have you eaten today?" "A little," he offered, although not convincingly. "What have you had to eat?" I pressed, to get more details, but he didn't look like he wanted to say more. "Come on, just tell me," I urged him. "You're not going to get into any trouble over anything you say." He still looked scared, but he finally responded. "I stole an apple and a roll from the grocery store. That's what I had to eat." "Are you still hungry?" He merely nodded his head up and down. "Pat, would you please take him into the kitchen and get him something to fill him up first. Then you can show him to the bathroom, so he can take a bath or a shower. I'm sure that would also help to make him feel better too. While you're at it, will you also see if you can find some clothes that will fit him? Maybe one of the other boys has something he could wear until I'm able run to the store." "Sure, Dad. I can do that," Pat replied. "Thank you," I told him. "Danny, while Pat is doing that, would you mind bringing Carlos' clothes down and wash them for me?" I'm sure he'll feel better in his own things, if they're clean too." "Yeah, Dad. No problem," Danny shot back. "Thanks, Danny. I really appreciate that you and Pat are helping me like this." "Hey, we're happy to help, Dad," Pat answered, for both of them. "You've done plenty for us, so we can do our share too. Come on, Carlos. Let's go see what you want to eat." Pat dragged Carlos off to the kitchen, telling him his choices and asking him what he wanted to eat. Carlos decided on a sandwich, but also had a piece of fruit and a glass of milk. After that, Pat showed Carlos to the upstairs bathroom and filled the tub with water, so Carlos could take a bath. Pat got Carlos a towel and gave him some of his own clothes to wear, since they were pretty close in size. Once Carlos was soaking, Danny brought down Carlos' old clothes and threw them into the washing machine a few minutes later. When Carlos was done and dressed, Pat showed him which room would be his, gave him a quick tour around the house and then brought him back in to see me. "You have a very big house, sir," Carlos told me, his eyes wide. "Yes, I do. I hope you don't get lost in it," I joked, but Carlos missed my humor. "I will try not to, sir," he agreed, straight-faced. "I know you will. I was only joking about that," I informed him, but jokes are never as good when they have to be explained. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know," he apologized. "Don't be sorry. It was my fault,' I admitted. "I should have explained to you that I was just kidding in the first place. Do you feel better now, since you've eaten and bathed?" "Oh, yes, sir. Very much so, sir," he answered, very formally. "Carlos, you're just going to have to stop calling me 'sir' all of the time," I suggested. "Yes, sir. I will, sir," he agreed, while doing the same thing. "I guess we'll have to work on that," I teased, before giving him some options. "You can call me 'Josh' or 'Uncle Josh' or even 'Pop', if you'd like -- just stop calling me sir." "What do the other boys call you, sir?" he asked. "Most call me Dad, while others call me Pop." "But I am not your son, like they are, sir," he observed. "So what do you want me to call you?" "It's your choice, Carlos. It really doesn't matter to me, as long as it's not sir," I agreed. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," he responded, doing it yet again. "Cut that out," I pleaded, while smiling at him, to let him know I wasn't upset. "I'm sorry, sir," he apologized, suddenly looking at the floor again. I wasn't sure if he was expecting me to do something to him or just feeling bad because he kept making the same mistake over again. "I give up," I offered. "Carlos, why don't you let Pat introduce you to the other boys and maybe you can decide later what you want to call me. They might even be able to help you figure that out." "Very good, sir," Carlos agreed, before Pat grabbed him by the arm and dragged him from the room, chuckling as he went. All of the boys knew I didn't care for all the formality of being called 'sir' all of the time. I heard enough of that at school, but besides that, it reminded me too much of my days in the army. I didn't feel homes should be run like basic training or boot camps and I wanted the boys to feel comfortable here. Respect and politeness are fine, and even demanded, but the same thing can be accomplished in a less formal atmosphere. Respect can be faked, especially on such a formal level, but I preferred it to be genuine and mutual. To me, the constant use of the term sir crosses my boundary of desired politeness. Once Carlos seemed comfortable and was off with the other boys, I called Sally and gave her a very brief explanation about my problem. Since it was Friday, she didn't know what she could do for me, except come to meet him and see what she could find out from him. I told her that would be fine and she said she would stop by a little later, as she had to swing by her office for an emergency meeting. I let her go, but knew I'd be seeing her soon. I went to check to see what the boys were up to, but I needn't have. Although the television was on, the boys were just sitting around talking, as each of the boys took turns filling Carlos in about how they had come to live there. He seemed truly interested in what each one of them had to say and listened intently. I think this was giving him hope that I would let him stay here permanently. About an hour after I talked to her on the phone, Sally pulled into the driveway. Once she was inside, I introduced her to Carlos and the three of us sat down to discuss his situation. After explaining to Carlos that she was a friend who had been responsible from bringing most of the other boys to live with me, he seemed to relax. I think he first suspected she might be an immigration officer or other federal bureaucrat. I had Carlos give Sally a quick rundown on his background, before I asked what she might be able to do to help. She told me there wasn't much she could do over the weekend, but asked if there was anything else we might need, before she left. Seeing she offered, I asked if she might be willing to take Carlos shopping for some things, since he had nothing of his own, but the clothes he was wearing when he arrived. She was hesitant at first, but after Pat volunteered to go with them and help out, Sally also agreed. I insisted Sally stay for dinner, since she was doing me such a favor. Not only that, but I didn't want Carlos leaving the house before eating. Danny, Dustin, Kevin and Pat had been very good about helping me fix dinner while I was semi-laid up, and they did the same tonight. In less than an hour, everything was ready and we sat down to eat. Over dinner, the boys explained to Carlos about Aunt Sally. He was pleased to realize she was like another member of the family, so he didn't have to worry about her turning him in to some regulatory office, once he went out with her. That thought never crossed my mind, but I guess you learn to think differently, when you aren't in the country legally. They left right after dinner, but not until I gave Sally my credit card to use to make the purchases. I even told her where I usually shop for the boys. A couple of hours later they returned, with several bags that contained clothes, athletic shoes and a toothbrush. Pat helped Carlos take the things up to his room and I was deeply impressed by how much Pat was offering to do to help out, since a few weeks earlier he might have been calling Carlos a spic or a wetback. He had certainly come a long way since then. Before she left, Sally assured me she would start working on his case on Monday and she'd call the Philadelphia office to report this Roberto character to the authorities. Carlos had been able to tell her the address of Roberto's apartment, although he wasn't sure of his actual last name, since Roberto had used various surnames at different times. That sounded like something a criminal would do, or possibly he was an illegal alien too, and Sally agreed with my reasoning. She would make sure DSS and the police checked up on this guy and prevented him from doing any more harm. I also called the furniture store and ordered a king-size bed for Danny's room. When Brandon showed up for good, the double bed would be very cramped for three mature boys. By getting a slightly larger bed for them, it should take care of the problem for now. I asked for it to be delivered on Saturday and then I told Danny and Pat what I had done. Danny loved the idea and he thanked Pat and me for arranging it. When Pat asked him what he had done, Danny told him that by giving up his room to Carlos, he had helped to ensure his getting a new bed. Pat didn't quite follow Danny's logic, but he accepted his thank you, nonetheless. We would place the extra double bed somewhere for emergencies, but now I would have to determine where that would be. 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.