Dog Days Page 6

  Thursday

  If last Thursday had been the worst day of my life, this Thursday was the best. Lefty, Sol, and Ross came for me around ten in the morning, and we waited for the doctor to come in and officially let me go.

  Sol was clutching a bag and dumped the contents on my bed; it was a pile of brand new clothes. “I picked them out!” Sol said happily, adding, “But Ross made me put the lavender panties back.” I was so happy to find some boxers in there. Admittedly, they had cartoon characters on them, but still. Sol wanted to help me put them on. We ended up giggling like little kids. Ross cleared his throat and turned his back on us. It was then I noticed he was wearing a dress. How I had not noticed before was beyond me. He looked like a woman. Yep, there were the high heels.

  As soon as I was dressed, there was a commotion in the hall, and in came my doctor. My doctor rolled his eyes and said, “Pull your pants down and let me show your parents what’s going on.”

  This was not a man you argued with; so I turned around and did as requested. The doctor took one finger and pushed my upper back so I was bent over the bed. He poked my ass. “Now Mom and Dad…” Sol began hacking as if he were choking. I knew what he was choking on, laughter. He fled. After a while I had to turn over and he showed them the bites on my legs and then moved my dick out of the way as if it were a sausage and showed Ross and Lefty the bald spot. “We have no idea what caused this but I’d keep an eye on that general area if I were you.” Ross made a very odd sound in his throat, and Lefty sneezed, sort of. The doctor brushed his hands together as if he had dipped them in dog poop. As he moved a step back, I could see both Slimy Jim and his friend sitting on the bed craning their necks and smiling, poking each other and probably hoping they could eat my lunch. Slimy mouthed, ‘What a woman!’ and his friend poked him and mouthed, ‘What a dick!’

  The doctor, oblivious, looked stern. “There’s no need to find any humor in this. Your son…” Out in the hallway I half saw Sol turn from the doorway going, “Hoo hoo!” and then he disappeared. “…has been seriously ill from bacterium…blah…itis…osis…and could have died. I’m sending him home on oral cephalexin, and it’s up to you to see that he takes it as prescribed—and absolutely no liquor.” The doctor proceeded to list about thirty horrible side effects, some of which could kill me. I had no idea if they were rare or common. “Plus you’ll have to change these dressings…” and I tuned him out because as I was pulling my pants up I saw Ross licking his lips and rolling his eyes, for the sole purpose, as far as I could tell, of embarrassing me further. He didn’t need to do that, my dick did it for me, apparently thinking that Ross’s lip-licking was sensual. Sol came back in the room with a cheese Danish, and the doctor glared at him and left. Sol was laughing and pointing and pushing his cheek out. I got a flash of insight about what that meant.

  Lefty had turned around to wipe tears out of his eyes, from suppressed laughter, the bastard, and Ross, well, Ross pulled out a delicate hanky and wiped his eyes, smudging mascara in the process. “My baby,” he said, reaching for me, but just then Sol choked again.

  Slimy Jim stood up. “Lefty, you fat bastard! When are you coming sailing again? Remember that shark you almost dragged into the boat? Good times man! Hey, Derrick and I have a new boat; we’re in the charter business once again. It’s bigger and better! And harder—it’s named ‘Harder’—har har!”

  Derrick chimed in. “Bring your kid when he’s better and that dame; your wife? Gorgeous, but I think I’ve seen her around. Er, ahem, maybe not…have I met you, lady?”

  I lost track about this time, but there was another lesson learned. Just cuz a guy looked like a homeless bum and ate all your food, didn’t mean he was one. They were all chatting now and exchanging addresses and shit, and it turned out that Derrick had a big house on the water just down the road from Ross’. Small world.

  I had just gotten my jeans up when in came an orderly with a wheelchair, and then more company, my kids and their families! They had more flowers and balloons and gifts for me and gave me their addresses and phone numbers and started to invite me over for dinners and everything. I buried my face in the kids’ hair, and even the boy didn’t push me away. It was a hell of a send-off party—and when they all left us in the lobby, some guy in a tuxedo came in and led us all outside to a huge waiting limousine. We all piled in the back, except, of course, Sol and I sat very gingerly.

  I couldn’t help but think how much the kids would enjoy this, and turned to Lefty and started to ask—and he knew exactly what I was thinking, so he darted back inside. When we drove off there were the four of us, and the three kids, all waving like kings and queens out the windows, the little one sitting on my lap. Then Ross served the kids sodas and champagne for him and Lefty, but since Sol and I were still on antibiotics, we got soda too. I didn’t care; I was thrilled. Watching the kids enjoy themselves was the best part of all.

  What got to me, I think, was not so much the idea that they might have been dead if I had not done what I did, or if I had not been sent here in the terrible ‘joke’ that was played on me, but how it felt to have a child that innocent trust me completely. I can’t even begin to find the words for that.

  I thought back over when I’d met them and when their families had come to thank me in the hospital. I realized if I’d just seen some of them on the street, especially that older brother—I’d probably have been afraid, or at least, judged them as less-than, and never known any better. What a way to learn, huh? I was pretty sure I’d never be brave enough to do it again—which I was ashamed of, but there it was—but I was glad I’d learned some important things because of it all. Why the hell not learn and grow from whatever life offers you—at least that way it’s not a complete loss, and look at all I had gained—new friends, a new family, a new home, and some things I couldn’t even put words to but had to do with pride and a belief in myself.

  * * * *

  The Casa was a beautiful house with wings and cabanas and pools, set by the ocean front on the other side of the island. The parents had followed in their cars and after the children had thanked us and said their goodbyes, Ross and Lefty helped me out of the car and into the house. This was to be my home? Sol was dancing with excitement. My room was just down the hall from his, he said eagerly.

  I was exhausted, and Ross took us to my room and left us. Sol excused himself after a piercing look from Ross, and Lefty helped me out of my clothes and into bed. I slept most of the rest of the day, in my beautiful room, flowers on the dresser, sunlight coming in the window, and the sound of the waves washing against the shore not far away. It was the most peaceful place I’d ever been in my life, and I thanked my luck or fortune that this adventure had ended this way—an ending that was, in fact, a splendid new beginning.

  It was just so weird that things had to get so bad for my life to turn the corner, for me to get the help I needed. Was it always that way? What if I hadn’t come to their notice because of having saved those kids? Would I be off in the woods again, homeless and friendless? There were probably other kids like me equally needing and deserving help, but without something horrible like what happened to me, how would they get the help they needed? You’d have to make it available, go find the people who needed it, and probably then convince them they were worthy of having the help. It was all too much for me, though for the rest of my life I wanted to look for ways to do just that, to make sunshine beam out of storm clouds, preferably before the storm occurred. I hadn’t just saved those kids; they had saved me too.

  After a quiet dinner, I was back in my room again, the sun’s last rays striking the wall, the pink glow in the sky so restful and promising. I lay back against the pillows with a sigh that almost split me in half, and closed my eyes.

  It was the first time since I’d landed last Thursday that I’d sat and listened to the peacefulness of the island around me. The last few birds putting themselves to sleep; someone’s air conditioner, a very occasional car going by slowly on the narrow
road that ran past the property. In tune with the ocean’s heartbeat, the wind made music playing through the tops of the palm trees, and their fading shadows danced against my bedroom wall.

  It was also the first time I felt like maybe, just possibly, I could have a future, make a life here, and have a new family as well. I didn’t know what to make of it all, the bad or the good, but I was learning to accept life as it came, and not to judge so much by my own understanding, maybe not to judge at all—either people, or events.

  Someday, just like Ross, I hoped I too would be able to pay it back, or like they say, forward.

  I think Mrs. White would approve.

  THE END

  ABOUT EMERY C. WALTERS

  Emery C. Walters was born Carol Forde, a name he soon knew didn’t fit the boy he was inside. Transition was unknown back then, so he married and then bore and raised four children. When his youngest child, his gay son, left home, Emery told Carol that she had to step aside, and he fully transitioned from female to male in 2001.

  Emery worked in county government and as a college writing tutor before retiring. He and his wife Robyn, herself raised mistakenly as a boy, live in Hawaii where they combine snorkeling, scuba diving, and volunteer work with activities to boost LGBT rights and awareness.

  Interested in Ninjutsu, both land and underwater photography, and writing, Emery can usually be found writing, reading, or sailing on his imaginary pirate ship.

  Emery’s 2010 first published novel, Last Year's Leaves, is an intense story of recovery from abuse and loss, finding love, and coming out whole. The book is laced with his trademark humor. His recent publications include four other coming of age novels involving coming out and overcoming obstacles as well as two books of short stories. All are humorous and filled with hope. Drystan the Dire, Emery’s Welsh pirate ancestor, shows up at times to help the heroes and annoy the villains. Emery currently has two more novels in the publishing pipeline.

  Between them, the Walters have eight adult children, umpteen grandchildren, and one great grandchild, none of whom can do a thing about the genetic material handed down to them—their gift to the future. So there. More information can be found online at ftemery-theemeryboard.blogspot.com.

  ABOUT QUEERTEEN PRESS

  Queerteen Press is the young adult imprint of JMS Books LLC, a small electronic press specializing in gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender fiction, as well as popular and literary fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. While our preference is for stories with GLBT characters, we publish stories in any YA genre. Visit us at queerteen-press.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!