The Last Phoenix

Tuesday morning all the boys were up early and in the dining room in time for breakfast.  The Phoenix House Cooks had learned their lessons well from Mrs. Johnson at Haven, and the food was ready, delicious and plentiful.  Near the end of the meal, Eddie got everyone's attention and announced, using his DI voice, "All right, EVERYONE!  Listen up!  Mr. Richards made sure that you all have Scout Uniforms.  If they are wrinkled from the move, I want you to get them in the laundry before you leave.  We have an important meeting tonight for the Boy Scouts, that's the eleven-year-olds and up.  So, when you get home, make sure that homework is done before anything else.  Bus to school leaves in twelve minutes.  Let's move!"

And move they did.  The tables were cleared and the room was empty in less than five minutes.  The laundry was filled with Scout Shirts and the bus was loaded in ten minutes.  John and Becky had watched in awe as the boys, even THEIR two, had responded.  John commented, "Eddie, that was absolutely amazing."

"I did learn a few things in the Corps.  They are just like raw recruits. If you act like you expect them to do it, they will nearly kill themselves to do it, and do it right.  They even surprise themselves when they actually get it done."  He grinned and looked at his watch.  "Well, I better hustle myself on out there, or I'll miss the bus.  That wouldn't be good."

At Haven, Eddie had taken over the facility with the indoor pool, basketball court and weight room.  This was Tuesday and that meant swimming.  Each grade level got to swim.  Most of the kids loved the water and the idea of swimming in January, when there were several inches of snow on the ground, delighted them to no end.  When the eight-year-olds arrived, Peter didn't go into the locker room.  Eddie went up to him.  "You're Peter, right?"

This was doubly terrifying for Peter.  After all, this was the man that made everyone do things, and he was directing his attention right on Peter.  In a shaky voice, Peter replied, "Y, yes S, s, sir."

"Have you met Howie?" Eddie asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"Did you know he's my son?"

"Really?"

"Yup.  Now, I think I need to let you know some things about how I do things; sometimes I make a lot of noise. Old habits are hard to break.  I was a Master Sergeant in the Marine Corps for quite a few years, so I do that very well, but I promise you that I will NEVER do anything to hurt you.  I might push you to do new things, and I might even yell at you, if you aren't trying as hard as I think you should, but I'll never hurt you. And if there is ever anything you need, all you have to do is ask, and, if I possibly can help you, I will.  Okay?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Let's go in and get you fixed up.  The Doc said you were pretty weak, so how about we get you in a swim suit and let you soak in the shallow pool for a while?  Maybe Howie can keep you company."

So Peter and Howie spent the time in the wading pool.  They soon found that they were friends and Peter was relieved.

After dinner that night, the older boys were off to the Scout meeting.  They were pretty excited, but a little bit apprehensive at the same time.  They really didn't know what to expect.

Shortly after the bus left, Nick Regnad arrived.  He found Peter in the downstairs game room with a good sized group of boys that all looked to be about his age.  Eddie accompanied him into the room.  The boys stopped and watched the adults.  "Eddie, do I have a milk mustache?" 

Eddie made a big deal of looking. "Nope, clean as a whistle."

In a stage whisper Nick continued, "They're watching us."

"Yeah, I don't understand it.  I haven't stewed a kid in at least a week!"  Eddie answered, getting a giggle from his son, Howie.

"A week?  And you didn't invite us!  Jeez©!" Nick acted very insulted.

"Scrawny little runt, anyway, Like Kyle here."  Eddie grabbed Kyle Bittenhammer and gave him a good tickling.  The others attacked Eddie, and then Nick, too.  Soon they were all in a laughing mass on the floor.

When they had caught their breath, Nick asked Peter if they could talk.

"Do I gotta?"

"No, son, that's why I asked."

"Really?"

"Scout's Honor.  See, I'm trying to trace the events and see if I can find out exactly why these bad things happened to you."

"'Cause I'm bad.  That's what Aunt Marcy said.  She told me over and over that I was bad."

Nick's heart melted for this adorable little guy, "No, Peter, you definitely aren't bad.  You have had some bad things happen to you, but you didn't cause any of them."

"But..."

"No buts.  Look, Neal liked you, right?"

"Yeah."

"And so, do you think Neal is bad?"

"No!  Neal is good."

"Well then, do you think he makes big mistakes?"

"No way."

"Well Neal likes you, and he thinks you are a good boy.  He hired me to find out about your past."

"He did?"

"Yes.  After dinner, just before they left for Scouts, Neal asked me to find out about your Aunt, so she would have to pay big time for being so mean to you."

"I don't want to go back to her."

Nick smiled and gave Peter a hug, "Don't worry, son.  You have some VERY powerful friends here, and, believe me; they aren't going to let that happen."

An hour later, Nick left with a notebook full of notes, and a new determination of his own to settle a score with this worthless, nasty bitch.  He had a lot more questions than he had answers, and he and 'Philip' were going to have a lot of work to do, but they intended to do whatever was necessary to get the job done.

The older boys arrived back home about nine o'clock, and they were all excited about the things that were coming up.  Most of them thought camping sounded like a lot of fun, and all of them were excited about going to summer camp.  The Scoutmaster, Mr. Little, said they could all go, and that they could even raise the money themselves to do so.  In a couple of weeks, they were going to be doing a spaghetti dinner on Saturday night and then having a lock-in there at the church.

Aaron had insisted on going to the meeting, and he was as excited as the rest.  Glenn had helped him when he got tired.  Mr. Little had noticed the two boys and commented to Tom Richards about them.  Tom had filled him in, including their battle with HIV and AIDS.  The Scoutmaster had taken the news well, and had just smiled and commented, "This will be a good test for the boys.  I hope they surprise me in a good way."

Aaron had been doing a bit better the last few days.  Food was staying down, and he was awake longer at a time.  Glenn was almost back to normal.  Doc Leo was pleased with the progress they were both making.  Aaron was still on restricted activity but, Glenn was back to the normal routine.  Dr. Turnman had some more tests for Aaron, and he had told them he would schedule them for Saturday, so they wouldn't have to miss any school.

By ten o'clock, everyone was in bed.  Peter lay awake, trying to understand just what was happening around him.  Everyone seemed to want to be his friend - little kids, big kids, and the adults too.  His grandparents had loved him; he knew that, but he figured that they had to.  His Aunt was supposed to love him, and she hated him.  And yet these strangers really cared about him.  As he shifted for what was probably the fiftieth time, Luke sat up, "Okay Peter, let's have it; what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry."

"Peeeeettteeerrrrr, you haven't done anything to be sorry for.  You can't sleep, because something is bothering you.  No one is mad at you. We've all been there.  Talking about it really does help, you know."

"I'm so confused.  You all like me."

Luke now knew exactly what was bothering Peter.  "Yeah, these people really are something.  Until just before New Year's, we were all locked up in a really terrible place called Juvy.  Then one morning, the staff lined us all up, and in walks these three guys that used to live there with us.  And suddenly our world was turned upside down.  The staff people and the bullies were all arrested, and we were taken to a really nice hotel.  Then they took us all to a real fancy store and bought us clothes and everything.  I thought we were going to be like rented out or something, but it didn't happen.  Neal, Brian and Travis finally got us to believe they were for real.  The people here are good to us, and they really do care, and even love us.  And we all love each other.  We're like all brothers."

"Why?  Why do they care?"

"Well, they were in the same place and managed to escape and find a loving home, and, well, they just want the same thing for the rest of us. It's sort of like that song called 'The Chain Of Love.' I heard it on the radio.  There is even a video of it. There is this lady in a fancy car, who had a flat tire and was trying to flag down people to help her change the thing.  Dozens of cars passed her by without even slowing down.  Finally this guy stopped, looked at the situation, told her his name and changed the tire for her.  When she asked him how much she owed him, he told her that she didn't owe him a thing; he'd been there too, and that someone once helped him just the way he was helping her; all he asked was that she help someone else the way he helped her. He said, 'Don't let the chain of love end with you.' Then he drove off.  I guess the people here are kinda like that guy. His name was Joe."

(Here is a link to the song. Have some tissues ready. It's called Chain Of Love, and it's by Clay Walker.)  Chain Of Love

"Seems too simple."

"Yeah, it does, but that's how it is here.  Let's go to sleep. I'll find the song, so you can hear it, some time."  Luke pulled Peter close and cuddled.  To Peter this was almost perfect, if only his friend were here.

*  *  At Haven Manor  *  *

Nick had been working on several things he had gathered from his conversation with Peter.  "'Philip', can you research the death records in Illinois?"

'Of course I can.'

"I think the area is somewhere west of Chicago.  I'm looking for a couple with the last name of Daarligtanta.  They would have passed away somewhere between one and two years ago.  Also, see what you can find for Heldig.  Peter may have court records for estate claims.  Also, I'd appreciate it if you could do a background search on Marcy Daarligtanta.  I want to know everything about that bitch and her bunch of friends, more like fiends, actually."

'Some of this may have to wait until the records office is open tomorrow.  I'm sure I will be able to find this information.  I can do the newspaper search now.  I will have a preliminary report for you by tomorrow morning. I am as anxious as you are to get that woman, and have her pay dearly for mistreating Peter.'

"That will be great.  I've got some digging to do, myself.  Good hunting."  Nick turned the page and then called his contact who worked as vice detective in the Chicago Police Department.

For the next few days, things went along pretty smoothly.  Aaron was anxious to return to school with the others.  Several of the other boys in his grade level came to see him and helped him with the lessons for that day.  Glenn would tutor him after they left, if Aaron had any problems. 

Saturday came, and Dr. Turnman came and picked up Glenn and Aaron at seven o'clock, before breakfast.  There was a whole battery of tests set up for Aaron.  The first was an MRI.  While Aaron was there, Glenn asked Dr. Turnman, "How come Aaron has all these tests, and I don't?"

"I'm trying to track down some of the test results we got earlier.  I don't want us to miss something important.  Aaron was pretty sick when we first found you guys.  He is really good at putting on a happy face and not acting as sick as he really is," Doc Leo explained.

"Just how sick is he, Doc?"

"I don't know, and when I do, I'll tell him, and then it will be up to him to tell others, or not, as he sees fit. Remember that old thing about doctor and patient privilege? Well, Aaron is the only one who has the right to tell others about his situation."

"But, Doc..."

"Yeah, I know, that's tough, but that's the rules I have to live by."

"Okay, but it still sucks."

"Yes, it does."

After the MRI there were blood tests and exams by three different doctors, and finally, by noon, they headed back home.

Aaron was pretty worn out, and Glenn helped him back to his room.  "Okay now, you want to tell me what all those tests were about?"

"Glenn, the Doc just wants to be sure everything is fine.  Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Look, Aaron, I love you.  You are, like, closer than a brother to me.  I worry about you all the time.  I can't help it."

"I love you, too.  I don't want you worrying; I've got it under control."

Glenn let it drop; he was sure that Aaron was holding something back, but he wasn't talking.

Sunday, Aaron insisted on going to church with the rest of them.  After Sunday School, he went and knocked on Dr. Hall's office door.

"Come in."

"Ah, Sir, ah, oh, never mind."  Aaron turned and started to walk away.

Dr. Hall moved pretty fast.  "Please, son, I can see that something is bothering you.  Come into my office, and let's talk."

Aaron followed him into the office, and Dr. Hall placed a 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign on the door.

At 11:10 Dr. Hall finally came into the sanctuary, and the service began.  About ten minutes later, Aaron joined the others.  Glenn's questions again went unanswered, but Aaron now had a brand new Bible with a bunch of post-it notes stuck on the pages.

Neal, Tom and Nick visited the Phoenix House Sunday afternoon.  Neal found Peter and brought him to meet with the two adults.  Nick started the conversation.  "Hi, Peter.  I can't thank you enough for the help you gave me."

"I didn't do nothin', just answered the questions."

Neal smiled at his friend.  "Actually, that is something that can be pretty hard to do.  Sometimes, someone has something to hide and gives elusive, 'Pat' answers."[I resent that remark]

Peter didn't understand why those three thought that was so funny.

Tom said, "Neal and I are going to take a little trip, just the two of us. We are going to be gone for a few days, and we are going to check into some of this.  We have enough information to check out, thanks to you, that I am sure this will be a very interesting adventure.  We wanted you to know what we were doing."

Nick continued, "I have some more detailed questions written down to maybe fill in some gaps.  I'd like you to think on them, and, as things come to you, I would appreciate it if you would let your computer know.  Just tell 'Philip' you want to talk, and the computer will record your answers and maybe even ask some questions to help you form better answers. He is really pretty smart.  Can you do that for me?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Okay, that will be great."

"When are you going?"

Neal frowned, "Dad is such a wimp!  He wants to wait until spring, so there won't be a lot of snow and ice to drive on."

"Wimp?  Well, young man, you are going to pay for that remark."

"Oh, yeah, I'm real worried."

Nick chuckled, "Careful, Neal, we have found an extra fifty toilets that just may need cleaning."

"That's a great idea, Nick!" Tom added.

Neal paled. "Jeez©, that's not fair."

"Now, who's the wimp?"

"ME, Dad, me.  I'm a wimp."

Nick looked at a giggling Peter, "You heard it here, first."

Later, when he was alone in his room, Peter got out his lap-top computer.  He opened, it and a boy's face appeared on the screen.  "Hi, 'Karl'.  I need to speak to 'Philip'."

The face aged and stopped when it looked to be a man in his twenties.  'Hello, what can I do for you?'

"Are you 'Philip' or 'Karl'?"

'Yes, I am both.  Karl was who I was, when I was a boy.  Then a very special person gave me the name, Philip, and then I became an Artificial Intelligence named 'Philip'.'

"That sounds complicated.  I thought of a few things that Mr. Nick wanted to know..."  Peter and 'Philip' talked for the better part of an hour.

*  *  *  Meanwhile, in another part of the 'The Phoenix House'  *  *  *

After checking his email, Eddie went to see John Gregory.  John was in his office.  "Oh, hi, Eddie.  How is everything doing?"

"I'm really enjoying working with the youngsters.  I want to talk about next Saturday."

"What about Saturday?"  John looked at his calendar.  "The Boy Scout Spaghetti Dinner?"

"Well, that's part of it.  I just got the word from Admiral Harris - he got his promotion - and my retirement ceremony is set for Saturday.  I gave him Mr. Little's number to make arrangements for the Scouts to feed those attending.  He wouldn't tell me how many.  Why do I feel like I've been had?"

"Because you most likely have been."

"Do you know something I don't?"

"Probably.  Does Admiral Harris know what 'Philip' is?"

"Oh my God!  I'm not sure I want to know any more."

"Trust me on this one, Eddie; the less you know the better off you will be."

Tuesday, Mr. Little said, "Boys, there are some changes in the Spaghetti dinner.  We have been offered the use of the banquet facilities at Haven Manor, providing we are prepared to serve dinners for those attending the retirement ceremony of Master Sergeant Eddie Richards."

All the Haven and Phoenix boys turned and gave Eddie a big thumbs up. 

When Mr. Little had their attention back, he continued, "The Church has agreed to post notices of the location change.  And Mr. Oliver Jones has offered the Phoenix Bus as a shuttle between the Church and Haven Manor.  So we will meet here Friday after school - don't forget to bring signed permission forms - and Mr. Jones will pick us up.  Obviously, Mr. Richards' boys will meet us there, and the Phoenix House guys will be dropped off there, before the bus comes for the rest of us.  We will work on preparing the sauces: plain, hamburger and Italian Sausage.  I want to see all of you bring your complete 'Class A' uniforms, on hangers, for the ceremony; this is an occasion you can travel in 'Class B's.  Have your moms help YOU iron the uniforms.  There are going to be real Marines there in their Full Dress Uniforms, and these men respect another man who cares to wear his uniform correctly and with pride."  You could see the boys all stand a little straighter, and shirt tails were tucked in.  "The cooks can change into Troop T-shirts after the ceremony, but serving line folks stay in their 'Class A's; we will be providing aprons to keep you from getting them all mucked up. Nick, you'd better wear your poncho."

"Oh, man, that was really cold."

"The Cubs will be waiting tables, making sure drinks and garlic bread don't go lacking.  The rules, for you new guys, are as follows: Everyone who participates gets a share of the proceeds towards your expenses for Summer Camp.  Are there any questions?"

There was silence.  The most they had served before was three hundred, and Mr. Little was talking about five hundred.  The Phoenix kids were just overwhelmed; they hadn't seen any way that they would be able to go at all, but maybe it would be possible.

At the end of the meeting, Eddie got a list of who was now in which patrol.  Neal, on Tom's request, got a promise from Mr. Little to e-mail a patrol list, so sleeping arrangements could be made for Friday night.

On the way home, Arty sat with his Dad and asked a thousand questions about what was going to happen on Saturday.

Excitement was building as the week progressed.  The Cub Scouts were bouncing off the walls when they got home, except for Peter.  He just came in and went back up to his room.  He was soon asking 'Philip' more questions and answering 'Philip's' questions.  Luke Jones, Peter's roommate, was starting to worry.  He wandered off to Mr. Jones' apartment.

Oliver answered the knock and asked Luke to come in.  After getting the boy a nice cold A&W® and himself a Hires® Root Beer, he sat next to the obviously troubled boy.  He wondered if now was the time to tell him, but decided he should find out the problem; he didn't want to hurt the poor kid any more.  "So why the long face?  I thought everybody was all excited tonight."

"Oh, well, yeah, Saturday is going to be MAJOR KEWL.  I'm just worried about Peter.  He was really okay when he first got here, but he doesn't play much, and he's always going to his room, and when I come in, he quickly closes the computer."  Luke was almost crying.

"I'll let Mrs. Gregory know.  She knows what to do.  Are you okay?  Do you need to change roommates?" Oliver asked.

"Oh, no!  That would really hurt his feelings.  He would think he was bad, and I couldn't stand hurting him," Luke asserted.

That answered Oliver's unasked question.  He hugged the boy and assured him it would all work out somehow.  "The most amazing things happen around here!  Just' think, we happened to find Arty and Howie days before their father showed up.  I have the feeling there are still more very pleasant surprises around here."

"I hope so, Unc... I mean, Mr. Jones."

Luke was looking at his hands, not daring to look and see Mr. Jones' reaction to his slip.  He felt himself being pulled up onto Oliver's lap, and then he heard the words he had so hoped for. "Luke, I would be honored, if you thought of me as your Uncle."  The man's voice sounded a bit strange, and Luke dared to take a glimpse and saw tears on the man's cheeks that matched the ones on his own.  No more words were necessary; they just cuddled for a long time.  Somewhere around ten o'clock, Oliver noticed that Luke was asleep.

Carefully he picked up his 'nephew' and carried him back to his room.  He went into Squad Six, and before he tried knocking on the door, he heard Peter say, "His name was Jacob.  He made samwiches that were really good, 'n these HUGE Gopher Pill Pickles in his store and he wore a funny little hat on the back of his head."

Then 'Philip' replied, "I believe you meant Kosher Dill Pickles."

"Yeah, sumpin' like that."

Oliver knocked on the door with his foot, since his arms were kind of occupied. 

"Bye, 'Philip'."  Then the door opened.  Peter got a look of sheer horror on his face, seeing his roommate unconscious in the bus driver's arms.

"Peter, it's okay, Luke just fell asleep, is all," Oliver said.

"Oh, okay."  Peter opened the door and helped Oliver put Luke to bed. 

After Oliver tucked Luke in and gently kissed his forehead, he motioned Peter to follow him back out to the Squad area.  It was empty, so Oliver took a seat.  "Peter, Luke is worried about you."

"He is?  I'm okay.  Why would he worry?"

"People who care about other people, worry.  I saw the look on your face, when you first opened the door; you were worried about Luke, too.  That is a good thing, Son."

"Well, yeah, he's been real nice to me, and he doesn't hit me, or nothin'."

"Well, he says you aren't playing with the other guys, and you just stay up here in your room all the time."

'Harrumph, that is partly my fault.'  'Philip' appeared on the large screen TV in his eighty-year-old curmudgeon persona that Oliver had dealt with before.

"Well, 'Philip', boys need time to be boys.  You should know that."  Oliver stopped, because Peter was pulling on his hand.

"He's been helping me find my friend.  He keeps telling me I should be making more friends, here too."

 "Sorry, 'Philip', I guess I jumped to a conclusion there."

'Harrumph,' and the screen went dead.

"Peter, why don't you try spending some time with the guys here, and some time with 'Philip'.  These guys will all be your friends, if you let them."

"Okay, I'll try that.  I gots to go to bed, now."  Peter went back into the bedroom and got ready for bed.  He climbed into his side and lay there for several minutes and then he scooted across the Queen Size bed, until he was spooned behind Luke and Luke snuggled back.  Both boys got the best night's sleep they had, had in a very long time.

Friday morning, the older boys all showed up for breakfast with their Scout Uniforms on hangers and their book bags packed with changes of clothes for the weekend.  A few of them actually had their school books, too.  Eddie made like a Drill Sergeant, and they all left with what they needed for school and the weekend.

After the bus left, Eddie was getting ready to go, when John called to him, "Eddie! Where are you going?"

"I have some papers to sign with Fred Clemets, and then I was going to head over to Haven and check out the set up," Eddie replied.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh, no! I don't think so.  That's not a good idea.  Fred will bring the papers over here," John said tactlessly.

Eddie marched over in his most intimidating Master Sergeant manner. 

John looked up from his wheel chair.  "Damn, you must scare the crap out of those boys, but it's not going to work on me.  I have strict orders to keep you right here, and that is exactly what I plan on doing.  I am not about to disobey. I know what would happen if I did, and I am not prepared to pay that price."

"You know this is driving me crazy, right?"

"Yup.  Tomorrow, all will be known to you.  A lot of people have worked very hard to surprise you. Why don't you Just' let them have their fun?  Tomorrow is a day for you and your boys.  We all want it to be special."

"Well, when you put it like that...  Maybe I'll just run a security check..."

John made a quick call to Fred Clemets, and soon the lawyer arrived and took Eddie off to a private room.  "Okay, Eddie, we have to have you sign some papers to clear the way for tomorrow's shindig.  Now, first is the settlement of the name issue." Fred handed him several papers. "These legally change all your Marine records to read "Edward Richards."  While I was at it, I had the boys' names changed to Richards, as well as your marriage certificate and your wife's death certificate."

Eddie nodded, as he signed. "Thanks, I hadn't thought of that."

"That's why you have a good lawyer.  Now, this is the law suit settlement.  I was quite surprised that the Captain - I mean Admiral - turned down my first offer.  His counteroffer was twice what we had asked for.  This has truly been one of the strangest cases I have ever dealt with."

Eddie signed more papers.

"Now, these are the retirement papers." Eddie kept signing.  "The nice thing here is that we negotiated you a full 50% retirement and a 50% medical disability.  That means that 50% of your active duty pay will not be taxable on your retirement pay.  In other words, your retirement pay is tax free."

"You are doing well, Eddie. Now there are Just' these left to sign." Fred put the last sheaf of papers in front of Eddie, who by then just signed them without even reading them, or getting an explanation of what they were.

*  *  Meanwhile at the school in Haven Manor  *  *

School went quite well for about twenty minutes.  By the time the third big USMC vehicle went rumbling by, the attention of every kid there was on whatever was happening out behind Haven Manor.  Lee Harris, the Principal, found Tom Richards, the owner of Haven Manor, and they went to investigate.  Martha and Nick tagged along.

When they got to the edge of the field, there was a beehive of activity.  Marines were unloading the trucks and were setting up what looked like a huge sound stage at the far side of the field.  There was a survey team marking off areas.  While they stood there staring, in shock a Major approached them.  "Excuse me; I need to see Mr. Thomas Richards."

"That would be me." They shook hands and the major led Tom off to the side.  There seemed to be a lot of pointing and gesturing going on.  Another man came up, and Tom pointed to Martha.  This was a big man. Martha quickly figured him for a cook, and she was right.  Nick went to follow, but Lee grabbed him.  Nick, we need to figure out a way that the kids can participate in this."

Just then Tom and the Major returned.  "This is Major Williams, and he is in charge of the setup for tomorrow.  It would seem this thing keeps growing.  Our favorite Marine has made quite an impression on quite a few people, and they ALL seem to want to be a part of tomorrow's ceremony.  Do you think we could find some help to carry and set up chairs?"

It didn't take long for the Manor to empty, and there were kids carrying folding chairs to the Marines, who set them in perfectly straight lines.  By three o'clock the set up was nearly done, the sound system was now being set up, and the lighting for the stage area was being installed, in case it became overcast and the TV people needed the light.  When school was dismissed, the Scouts who were there went up to the old squad areas.  Instead of squad numbers, there were large Patrol Patches on the doors.  The boys found their areas, claimed beds and were soon changed into clothes that could get dirty.  The one thing they all noticed was the elevator; it was quiet and operated smoothly.

By the time the rest of the troop arrived with Mr. Little and the other adults, the kitchen was ready.  Mr. Little came in and surveyed the kitchen and was very impressed.  They would have no problem with these facilities.  He soon had boys peeling and chopping onions, opening cans of tomato sauce and dumping them in nine huge pots.

Martha walked in at this point.  "Oh, my soul," she muttered as she approached the adults.  "Mr. Little?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Didn't they tell you?"

She knew the answer by the blank look on his face.  She turned toward the corner where there was a little black box with a green light, "'Philip'!  Find my husband and tell him to get his lazy butt in here to the kitchen, RIGHT NOW!"

Author's Notes:
What hasn't Mr. Little been told?  Nine big pots of sauce should easily feed five hundred to seven hundred people.  And why does Martha need Nick?  What is the big surprise for Eddie?  What was that last batch of papers he signed that Fred didn't explain?  What is 'Philip' doing with Peter?  I sure am glad I didn't put any cliff Hangers in this chapter.
Let me know what you are thinking.
            Str8mayb

Editor's Notes: I'm thinking there is more here than meets the eye.  I think it is possible that Eddie is going to be quite surprised.  What do you think?  Just how much food is there going to be there. How big are those pots of sauce?  With Martha and Nick helping, things can't possibly turn out badly can they?

Peter is finding out that the people at Phoenix and Haven have already fallen head over heels in love with him.

Let's see, if Peter Helding picked a peck of Gopher Pill Pickles. How many pickles could Peter Helding pick?

Susan Sorenson's sister, Sarah, is sitting, sadly studying shoe shining scenarios in a small shoe shine shop, sitting and shining, shining and sitting, she starts stacking shoes so seriously that she somehow stops stoking the stove. Soon she starts shivering since she is starting to suffer from the cold. I ran out of s words. I haven't had one of those things in some time, so I started to see if I could say some sentences with a lot of s's in them. I couldn't do it though I'm sorry.

It looks as if Aaron is doing better, but he doesn't seem to want to talk about his situation.  Let's hope he somehow does get better.

Your turn, TSL.

Darryl AKA The Radio Rancher AKA Sleeping Beauty             {Send your S words to Darryl not me.}
                                                                                                {Send S-things to him too.  Neal}

The Fort Chief Editor's Notes:

Pat Answers INDEED!!!! You thought I wouldn't catch that. I am very glad to see that Peter is being accepted by everyone and that he has friends in spite of his shyness. I sincerely hope that Aaron is truly getting better. Oh and Neal, Bethany says Hi.

TSL