Fire Book One

It was in the wee hours of the morning when Ginger jumped up on the bed waking me up.  I looked around; Mitch was standing by the door.  "Come on." I said and held up the covers. 

Mitch climbed into the bed and cuddled, "I woke up, and well, I need to talk."

"Okay, Bud, what's up?"  I asked.

"I had a bad dream.  It was about what Father would do.  He made me do things and I just don't understand.  He would get kind of excited and it was scary."  Mitch was wrapped around my arm and began sobbing onto my shoulder.

"Oh, Mitch.  He was very wrong in doing those things.  Stop thinking you did them, he made you, so the wrong was his not yours."  I told him when he settled down.

"Really?" was his hopeful reply.

To hell with my back, I pulled Mitch on top of me and gave him a full body hug.  "Yes, really.  Some men get excited by making people do un-natural things, and causing pain, and really embarrassing others.  It seems your step-father was like that.  I hate to admit it, but I'm glad he is gone and can never hurt you again."

"Then I'm not bad for thinking that?"

"No, son.  It is very healthy for you to feel that.  He was abusing you, and you should be glad it is over." I told him.

"Mommy didn't believe me when I told her.  She said I was bad for saying those things about Father."  Mitch confessed.

I swear I saw red.  A parent who didn't believe when a child told them something like that!  You have to protect the child!  An eight or nine year old just doesn't make up stories like that.  Older teenagers may make up stories about teachers for revenge, but that is a whole different situation.

I gently rubbed his back, as I regained my composure.  By the time I could continue, Mitch was quietly snoring on my chest.  Linda would be so surprised at me.  I was so in love with this little guy, I thought I sounded like her brother-in-law, who had several kids and would do anything to protect them.  And I bet he could too, being a Deputy Sheriff.

I drifted off to sleep, hoping I had said the right things.

I woke up in the morning with a giggle box on my chest.  I opened my eyes and Mitch was still wrapped securely in my arms and ginger was busy licking his ears.  "Good morning," I said and kissed his forehead.  I released him and we made a dash into the bathroom.  When we were done I sent Mitch to let Ginger out.

The day went by pretty well, some lessons, video games, and Mitch playing out back with the dogs.  Max was great with Mitch and Ginger.  I could sit on the back porch and watch those three all day.  I was doing just that and reading the paper when I noticed a story on page six.  A farm house not to far from here had burned, and the description of the fire sounded a lot like Mitch's.  Everyone that lived there was assumed dead.  The fire had been so hot, few remains were found.  There were two adults and one child living there.  No names were released until next of kin could be found and notified.

I was concerned that there was a connection and maybe it had been an attempt on Mitch, and they got the wrong house.  I set the paper down and went inside.  I called Inspector Brown.  He had the same concerns.  There was arson involved, and gasoline used to destroy the bed where the two adults were sleeping.  That sent up a flag, two adults, he said and the paper said the same thing. 

"Should I take any special precautions?" I asked.

"Keep locked up at night.  There will be units of FBI and police watching so you should be safe.  Keep your cell close.  We'll call to warn you if we see anything." The inspector told me.

As I hung up, Mitch and Ginger came bounding in.  Mitch had managed to get pretty dirty.  I took him into the bathroom planning to just wash as best I could.  When Mitch stripped, he started unwrapping his arm.  I was surprised at how it looked.  It looked like a really bad sunburn that was peeling.  The angry red and blisters were gone.

"Hey champ, that is looking pretty good.  Think you could do a shower?" I asked.

"That would be okay, but I think I'll need help.  Could we shower together?" he asked.

A thousand reasons to say 'NO' flashed through my mind, but for some reason they all sounded wrong.  I had a feeling something very important was happening.  "Okay, but if you get uncomfortable I want you to tell me, okay?"

"Why would I get uncomfortable?" he asked.

Okay, big mouth, you started it!  "Well, chances are, if we are touching each other, one or both of us will get a boner."

"Oh.  Okay, we ain't touched, and I'm getting one, is that alright?" he asked meekly.

I rubbed his head and said it was fine.

I reached into the shower and turned on the water.  When I turned back Mitch was naked again and sure enough, he had a nice little nine-year-old stiffy.

I stripped and we got into the shower.  I started with the baby shampoo; the right side of Mitch's head had noticeable stubble, and would soon be comparable to the left side.  I then sat on the bench, and got the body wash that had been recommended and did his chest, left arm and back.  Now came the one I was dreading, his right arm.  As I lathered his arm I could feel the dead skin sloughing off.  He made no indication that I was hurting him.  When I was done, I rinsed him off then I had him raise one leg so I could wash it, then the other.  Now all that was left was the area covered by his briefs.  I quickly lathered his bum and then the rest.  He grinned at me when I washed his privates.  I took the shower sprayer and rinsed my son off, then had him go dry off while I completed my shower.

I stepped out, and began drying off as Mitch was dressing.  His right arm looked a lot better.  The peeling skin was gone, and pink new flesh had taken its place.  "Wow, that arm sure looks a lot better.  How does it feel?"

"It's a little tingly but doesn't hurt." he said, rubbing his arm.  "It feels good to not have the bandage on it."

"I bet it does.  I'm very happy how well it looks.  I don't think there will be much if any scarring.  You're a lucky kid, Mitch." I told him.

He gave me a big hug, "I'm the luckiest kid ever.  You didn't even do stuff in the shower."

I knew that was a very important comment from him.  "No, Mitch, and I never will.  You are my son, and I am here to protect you not use or abuse you.  I love you."

One thing was sure; this kid's life was sure going to be different from now on.  Mitch and Ginger both ate a good dinner and then went to the den to abuse some Zombies or something on the PS2.  At nine o'clock I let Ginger out, and sent Mitch to brush his teeth and get ready for bed.  When Ginger came in we went back to Mitch's room.  He was just getting into bed.  He was wearing just his briefs as was his custom.  Ginger Jumped up and made herself comfortable by his feet.  I bent down and gave him a kiss in his forehead.

Mitch wrapped his arms around me, and whispered, "Goodnight, Dad, I love you."  His hug tightened then he released me.

I left to turn in myself, with a tear in my eye.

I was awakened in the morning by a wet dog wanting to kiss me.  My back once again told me what Ginger confirmed, it was raining outside.  Mitch came running in holding a dish towel.  "Ginger! You should have waited for me to dry you."

I had to laugh, Ginger actually looked at him and gave a little woof like she understood and was sorry.

After my morning routine, I fixed a hot breakfast.  I fed the dogs; Max was dry as could be on the back porch; Smart dog.  Mitch and I worked through some social studies and English in the morning.  He reminded me at lunch that it was Thursday.  I guess my expression gave away that I didn't have a clue, "Scouts, Dad, Scouts."

"Oh yeah, I need to get the rest of the patches sewed on your uniform."  He spent the afternoon reviewing his new Webelos book, and marking the things he had done.  When my fingers were sore enough, I reviewed his book and initialed the activities he had done.  We had a quick dinner and he went and put on his uniform.  I had to take some pictures; he was so proud and looked really good.  Then we were off to the meeting. 

We arrived about fifteen minutes early.  That gave me a chance to talk to the Cubmaster.  She introduced Mitch and me to the Den Leader for the first year Webelos.  The other boys began arriving and the meeting was off.  Mitch was fitting in just fine, and I went and joined the other adults.  I seemed to fit in well with them.  One father had two boys in the second year Webelos, both of his boys were adopted.  He and I really hit it off.  He joked about having Linda's number on quick dial.  Before I knew it the meeting was wrapping up.  Mitch talked non-stop all the way home about the guys in his Webelos patrol.

When we arrived home Max was barking at the back door.  I had never seen him act like this.  I went out to calm him but he just became more agitated.   He would run a bit away then bark and run back and bark.

"Do you think he wants us to follow?" Mitch asked.

"Well if he were Lassie, he'd be saying 'Timmy is in the well!'  Maybe we should get a couple of flashlights and follow him." I said.

Two minutes later Mitch and I were following a very excited Max, as he led the way.  On the far side of the barn we entered the woods and at the bottom of a ravine Max stopped by what I thought was a rock.  As we got closer, I realized it was a body.  I told Mitch to wait and I approached. 

It was a child, about Mitch's size.  Breathing was shallow and rapid.  "Mitch, do you have your little walkie-talkie the agent gave you?"

"Sure he told me to carry it all the time," he replied.

"Good boy, Go up to the top and press the red button.  Then lead them down here we need medical help, fast." I told him, a lot more calmly than I felt.

Mitch ran back up the trail and I tried to do something for the child.  On closer examination, the child was naked and filthy, covered in mud, and If I didn't miss my guess, severely burned.  I gently turned the child and it was a boy, and his front was in no better shape than his back.  He was unconscious, and that was certainly a blessing.  I wondered how he had gotten here.  I suddenly remembered the article about the fire.  This lad had covered a good six miles in his condition.  I talked to him, telling him it would be alright and he was safe now.

It seemed like forever until the paramedics arrived.  They carefully moved the boy into the basket like stretcher, and moved him up the trail to the ambulance.  

Special Agent Dukman was waiting by the house when we returned.  "I didn't mean for you to use those for a regular 911."

I was very concerned about this boy and not in the mood to play any kiss ass games with an FBI agent.  "That kid is most likely from that house that burned three days ago.  The house that was torched, just like Mitch's!  If I were an FBI agent, I sure as hell would want to be the one in charge of keeping his existence quiet.  However, if you want, I'll call the local paper and get the rescue on the front page!"

He actually paled and then went into action.  He was on the radio getting all units onto a scrambled frequency.  The EMT asked if anyone needed to ride along.  Agent Dukman said he was.  Mitch and I were going to follow in my car.  On the trip over, I handed Mitch my cell and had him dial Linda.  When she answered he said hi and then passed me the .

"Linda, a boy about Mitch's age was just found on my property, and he is badly burned.  We are on the way to the burn/trauma unit at the hospital." I began.

"Why are you going?" she asked.

"Duh, he needs somebody!" I replied.

"Jesus, Lee, What are you thinking?" she returned.

"That the little guy needs Mitch and me." I stated.

"Hello?  Is this Lee Harris?  Or some impostor from outer space?" she said.

"Crap, Linda, this is damn important!" I shouted into the .

"Hey just Kidding, I'm getting everything together, and I'll meet you at the hospital.  Chill, Lee, bye." the connection went dead.

I was busy keeping up with the ambulance.  We arrived at the hospital ER and I found a parking space nearby.  Of course we couldn't get into the treatment area, so Mitch and I sat in the waiting area.  Linda arrived about ten minutes later.  She then went to the Nurses Station, and talked to the nurse.  Then SA Dukman came out, and he and Linda had a very animated conversation, with them looking and pointing at me.

Finally, he stomped back into the ER and Linda came over to me.  She sat down, "My he is so pleasant to talk to.  Do you think he is naturally an asshole, or does he practice?"

Mitch went into a giggle fit at her language. 

"Sorry, Mitch, and I must say, you look very nice in your uniform." She told him, as she handed me something to sign. 

I took the paper and looked at it, she was sneaky, but I signed anyway.  Linda grinned back at me.  I was now the emergency foster parent of child John Doe.  She then handed me some more papers, hugged Mitch and me, then she was gone.

"So, Dad, what's going on?" Mitch asked looking at the papers in my hand.

"Well, it seems that you have a new foster brother, at least for a while."  I told him.

"Wow, when can I meet him?" he asked.

"I really don't know son.  He's in pretty bad shape, been out in the weather for three days naked.  He has burns worse than yours were." I told Mitch.

"Oh, is he going to die?" Mitch was about in tears, and getting me there too.

"I certainly hope not, but I haven't talked to the doctors yet." I told him.

SA Dukman came out and spoke to the nurse and she pointed at me.  If he frowned any more, he would trip on his pouting lower lip.  He walked over to me.  "How in the h... How did you manage to be the assigned foster parent so fu... so fast."  He was really glaring at me.

I couldn't help it, really I couldn't, "I just wanted the chance to work more closely with you."  I smiled innocently.

"I hope you know what you're getting into." He responded.

"Actually I don't care about me, I care about that boy." I replied.

Mitch piped up, "Yeah, me too."

"Well, since you two are now family, you can go back and talk to the Doctor," he said, resignedly.

I took Mitch's hand, and we started back.  "Dad, I remember waking up, and having strange adults trying to tell me stuff.  Could I be the one to talk to him?  He might do better with another kid.  I know how scared he will be when he wakes up."

"That sounds real brave of you, and I think he will need a friend who understands some of what he will face.  He is in a lot worse shape than you were, so if you need to leave, I'll understand and take you out." I told him.

"I spent two days in the ICU, so I saw pretty much everything." Mitch said.

We approached the Central Nurses Station; a woman in a white lab coat was there.  "Are you the family of the burn victim?"

"Yes. Ma'am.  I'm Lee Harris."  I started.

"And the boy's name?" she interrupted.

"John," she cut me off before I could say Doe.

"Good, now John is in critical condition.  He has second and third degree burns over about 30% of his body.  Due to the exposure, he has infection in most of the burn sites.  We are pushing fluids to re-hydrate him; giving him massive antibiotics, and cleaning the wounds as best as we can.  He is a real fighter, and it is amazing he still is alive.  We need you to sign the papers, so we can begin repairing some of the damage."  She handed me a clipboard.

I took the papers and looked them over, then signed all but the last two.

"What about the last two?" she said in a cold tone.

"I'll not sign for organ donation or a Do Not Resuscitate order for him." I said in an equally cold tone.

"What?"  She took the clipboard and looked at the last two pages.  She turned several shades of red.  "I'm truly sorry; those should never have been in there."

"Thank you for the apology; Now what is in store for John?" I asked.

"We need to do some surgery on his legs so he will be able to walk again, then there may be skin grafts for his back arms and legs.  We will do the initial surgery tonight, and he will be in ICU for at least three days.  I do not expect him to regain consciousness until he is transferred to a private room." she explained.

"Okay, Here is my cell number.  Call if there is any change.  When will he out of surgery?" I inquired.

"They are prepping him now.  My guess is about five AM.  He should be in ICU by nine." The doctor said.

"Okay, I'll be by in the morning.  Is it possible for Mitch here to come and visit too?" I asked.

"Well, we don't encourage it.  It can be pretty intense in there," she said, kindly.

Mitch said, "I know, I spent two days in there a couple of weeks ago."

The doctor did a double take, "My God, you look great!  You look so much better.  I usually don't get to see my patients after they leave the ER.  So this must be your foster father.  He must be taking very good care of you," she bent down and inspected his right arm and the right side of his head. 

She then turned to me, "Thank you for following the instructions I sent, It looks like he isn't going to scar at all.  I'm afraid John will be scarred and maybe crippled, his feet are a disaster.  I'm not sure how much we can save.  Is your home handicapped accessible?"

Mitch piped up, "Oh yeah, Dad has a bad back, and has all the stuff installed.  All the handrails and even a chair lift 'thingie' on the stairs."

The Doctor smiled, "Wow, that's great."  She stood up and said to me, "You may have some problems.  John is going to need a lot of care, and will be bedridden pretty much, for the first several weeks after he makes it home.  Are you capable of lifting and caring for him?" She was really concerned this time, not the 'bitch' she had seemed to be, at first.

"It's something I need to consider.  How long do you think I have?" I asked.

"Well, the soonest he would be home is two weeks. If he is ready for Physical Therapy, that would add three weeks.  The therapy may need to wait until his feet heal enough to support him.  Which would mean him coming home and then going back for the therapy."  She explained.

"Okay, I'll work on it."  I took Mitch's hand and we left and went home.  He was full of questions all the way home.  I tried to answer as best as I could.  I had a lot to consider, and some big decisions to make.  Max and Ginger were both very glad to see us.  Mitch took Max and thanked him for finding John, and told him what a good boy he was.  I finally got Mitch inside, and ready for bed.  When he and Ginger were settled in bed, I went in and started researching burn treatment, on the net.  I did not like what I was reading.  Mitch had been extremely lucky to have avoided third degree burns, and only have minor second degree burns on his right arm.  'John' was not so lucky.  He had major third degree burns, especially on his feet and legs. 

"DAD!" Mitch yelling my name snapped me awake in the morning.  I had fallen asleep in my chair in the den, looking at the computer.

"I'm in the den!" I called back.

Soon I had a lap full of trembling boy.  "I thought you left me all alone," he sobbed.

Ginger jumped/climbed up with us.

"Mitch, I'll never just leave you.  I love you, and would never do that to you.  I fell asleep down here last night, and never made it to bed." I told him.

He settled down, then sat up and asked, "What's for breakfast?"

I couldn't help but laugh; I had a normal boy, all appetite. 

While I was cooking some sausage, the phone rang.  It was Dr. Hastings,  "Mr. Harris, I just wanted to update you on the surgery on your son,  He did extremely well, we were able to save both feet, but he did lose the two small toes on his left foot.  We were able to clean and do an auto graft on some of the worst damaged skin.  I think the worst problem we face now is infection.  We have him heavily sedated, and on mega dose antibiotics.  He is being moved to ICU now, and will be there when you arrive.  They can give you more details when you arrive."

"Thank you for calling, Doctor.  I really appreciate all you have done."  I told her.

"I hope so," she said, in a strained voice.

"What's wrong, Doctor?"  I asked.

"Well, we needed skin for the graft, and about the only healthy skin on his body was his genitals, he evidentially cupped them in his hand as he ran from the building.  We did a circumcision for the skin source and sent it to be processed.  Well, sir, John has been sodomized.  I reported it to Special Agent Dukman.  I apologize, I thought you were his father and probably guilty.  Agent Dukman straightened me out there, but while we waited for the skin graft to return we did some re-constructive surgery on his anus and rectum." The doctor explained.

I felt sick to my stomach, the poor kid.  "Is he going to be okay?"

"Physically, yes, emotionally, he is going to need a huge amount of patience and understanding.  There is a Psychologist not too far away that I recommend you see.  She isn't the closest or cheapest but without a doubt she is the best."  She then gave me the name and phone number and I wrote them down.

"That's who we want.  Thank you Doctor." I told her.

"You're very welcome.  If you need anything, let me know.  The doctor who will have John's case should be in about ten.  I think you'll like him.  Good bye, Mr. Harris and good luck." she ended the call.

I filled Mitch in on the major points of what the doctor said.  I told him that John had been hurt by men doing stuff worse than had been done to him.  He hugged me and cried for his new brother.  "I'll love him reall good, and we will make him better, won't we Dad."

"We'll sure do our very best." I said, and he beamed back at me.

After eating, we got dressed, and I had Mitch go outside and play with the dogs while I got things together.  I got his lessons, so we would have something to do, and my laptop.  When he came in, he packed the stuff in the car.  We said bye to the dogs.  We decided Ginger would be happier outside with Max.

There was a special visitor's room for ICU.  They had cubicles with a table and a few chairs, a nice recliner and a sofa.  It was obviously designed to accommodate family members, wishing to spend a lot of time there.  At the Nurses' station, I was told visits were limited to five minutes each hour.  We would be required to put clean scrubs over our street clothes, and wear masks as infection was the biggest danger for most of the patients.  She handed me a key.  This will be you room, we'll call you on the intercom and tell you when to dress to go visit."  She looked at the chart.  "You are aware he is sedated and will not respond?"

"Yes, Ma'am, but at some level, I want him to know there are people here for him.  Especially his new brother." I told her.

She looked at Mitch for the first time, "Mitchell!  I didn't recognize you at first.  My you sure are looking much better."

"Ah, thanks," he returned. 

We went back down the hall to room 8, which was the second door down from the Nurses' Station.  I set my laptop on the couch, and Mitch set his books on the table.

We had just gotten started on Mitch's math lesson when the nurse came by with a set of blue scrubs for each of us.  "You can suit up and come down to the station. Don't forget the key.  Don't put the footies on till you go in the ICU."

We pulled on the paper scrubs, locked the door and headed down the ICU.  We were led into the ward and to John's bed.  The poor guy was bandaged and had tubes and wires running from everywhere.  Areas not bandaged were coated with salve that resembled the cream I had put on Mitch.  The boy's left hand was badly burned, but his right was in pretty good shape.  Mitch was on that side of the bed and gently took his hand.  "Hi, my name is Mitch, I'm here to love you and help you through getting better.  They say you can't hear, but I heard stuff while I was in here.  My new Dad is going to be your new Dad, too.  The bad stuff is over.  You are safe with us, and we love you."

I had tears in my eyes, and whispered, "We love you, and want to help make you strong and happy again."

The nurse signaled us that time was up.  We left quietly.  At the station, she said, "I've not seen that happen before, but while you were in there his vital signs got stronger."

Mitch grinned and said, "Good, that means he heard what I told him."

She handed us another set of paper scrubs, and we returned to our room.  About twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door, when I opened the door, there was a man about my age standing there.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Turnman, I believe your son is now my patient." he introduced himself.

"Hello, I'm Lee Harris, and this is my foster son Mitch." I said.

"Oh, then you must know Linda Thompson." he said.

"Sure, I've known her for years.  After my accident she got me signed up for foster care." I told him.

He laughed, and responded, "She'll fill your house if you give her a chance."

"Yeah, I just got Mitch a couple of weeks ago, and now, this young fella." I responded.

"I've just checked on him, and must say from the history, that it is a miracle he is alive.  The plan is to keep him sedated for four to seven days, and let him get a good start on healing without having to endure the pain.  Even at that, he will have quite a bit to deal with.  Hopefully, by the time we can release him he will be able to start therapy.  I would prefer if that was the case.  It would give him more time to adjust and give you more time to prepare for his home care." He said.

We discussed for some time, what he was going to need when he came home.  I was getting very concerned about how I was going cope.  I was going to have to really consider what I was going to do and how.

End Note:
I hope you are enjoying the story.  Let me know at str8mayb@paddedroom.us

Editor's Note:
RR
Well, I am enjoying it. Poor little kid. I hope he will be ok, and I hope that Lee will be able to cope with all that is involved in taking care of a little boy that has been so terribly hurt.
I have now completely fallen in love with Mitch and the new little boy is really going to be cool, I think.  Max is one cool dog, isn't he?  Of course so is Ginger. 
Hurry up and get us the next chapter, str8mayb. We are waiting, so please hurry.
Darryl
Radio Rancher.

Fort Chief Editors Notes:

Another wonderful chapter full of love and care for others. Lee is a wonderful human being and seems to have transferred some of that to Mitch. Here is a kid still healing himself who only wants to help someone in worse shape than himself. Keep the great words coming at us Str8mayb it is a privilege working with you.

TSL