The Last Phoenix

Tom was sitting in the library, enjoying a few-rare!-moments of peace and quiet, when 'Philip' appeared on the computer screen across the room.  'Tom, I'm sorry to disturb you.  I know you don't have much time to yourself these days, but this is something I think you need to deal with right now.'

"Oh, what have the kids gotten into, now?  Is it Neal?  Have Andy and Jason had another go-round?  Where are John and Becky?  Can't they handle the problem this time?"

'None of the above, my boy!  This is something only you can deal with!'

"OK, 'Philip', you've got my attention."  He sighed.  "What's so important that I have to deal with it now?"

'Does the name "Bobby Ricland" mean anything to you?'

"Bobby Ricland!  Where did that come from?  I haven't thought about Bobby in years!"

'I think you may be thinking about him now, and, perhaps, for some time to come.'

"'Philip,' stop being so damn mysterious, and tell me what this is all about!"

'I think you may want to go out front and see for yourself.'

"Out front?  You mean he's here? Jeez, I haven't seen him since Dad's funeral!  How in the world did he find out where I am?  What does he want now?"

'I believe he is more qualified to answer those questions than I am.'

Tom sighed and got up from his comfortable chair.  "Well, since you obviously aren't going to give me any clues, I guess I'm on my own here."  He left the library, went down the hall to the foyer and crossed to the front door.

When he opened the door, he saw a handicapped van parked in front of the house.  The driver looked awfully young, as if he might be somewhere between Monty's and Andy's age.  Tom stepped out on the landing at the top of the steps.  Down on the drive, a little to the left of the steps was a motorized wheel chair.  The man sitting in it was facing the van, apparently talking to the driver.

"Bobby!?!"  Tom hurried down the steps to the chair.  The man turned it to face him, and Tom saw the young man's face, a Ricland face without question, He had known the family since he was in grade school. It sure looked like Bobby, just a lot older than he remembered from Middle School.  "Bobby!  What happened?"  He held out his hand, and the man in the chair shook it firmly.

"I'll bet I'm just about the last person you expected to see at your front door!"  He chuckled.

"Well, close to it!"  Tom bent and hugged his long lost friend.  Except for a few hours at Tom's father's funeral, they hadn't seen each other since Middle School, and of course with all that was going on at the time, there was little time to talk.  "I thought you were living somewhere in the South; I never expected to see you here in Pennsylvania!"

"Well, you probably wouldn't have, except that I got fired, and I'm up here, job-hunting.  I heard there were more jobs available in the North than where I was living, so here I am!"

"Well, I've got to admit that it's a shock, seeing you here, but I'm glad to see you, Bobby!  You're married now, aren't you?  Where's your family?"

"They're all at the motel, except David.  He drove me here.  I didn't know if you would throw us all out, and I didn't want to be embarrassed in front of the family, if you did."

"How many kids do you have, Bobby?"

"Four.  The twins, David and Dean are fourteen, then there's Sarah, who's twelve, and Julie, who's ten."

"Wait a minute!  Didn't you say that David drove you here?"

"Yeah.  He and Dean took turns driving up here from home."

"But they're too young to be driving.  You can't even get a learner's permit until you're fifteen!"

"Here, maybe, but you can get a license at fourteen where we live.  As soon as the boys were old enough, Beth took them to get their licenses, so we wouldn't have to bother neighbors and friends to take us everywhere we needed to go."

"But Bobby, they're still driving illegally in Pennsylvania!"

Bobby laughed.  "I knew that, silly.  That's why we drove all night to get here.  We got to the motel with no problems, and I took a chance that we could make it here with David driving.  I figured that, if we got stopped by the police, he does have a valid license, and we could explain that we were coming to see you.  We were hoping they'd let us off, long enough to get here."

"I guess you haven't gotten any less crazy with age!"

"No, I suppose not. What can I say? Hey; nothing ventured, nothing gained, I always say."

Tom waved to the driver of the van.  "Hi, David!  I'm your 'Uncle', Tommy!"

David grinned and waved back.  "Glad to meet you, sir!"

Tom paused a minute.  "David, would you mind pulling the van around behind the house?  I think we all need to have a long talk."  He turned to Bobby.  "Where are Beth and the kids staying now?  I'll send someone to pick them up and bring them here."

'Philip' appeared on the small screen mounted next to the front door.  'That's already been taken care of.  They're on their way here, as we speak.  In fact, I just opened the main gate.'  Tom just shook his head and turned to Bobby.

"Is that the crabby old uncle of yours?  I thought he was dead; that's what the papers all said."

'Crabby?  Well, that's the thanks I get for helping you out!'  The screen went blank.

"He's a bit touchy, too!" Tom grinned.

'Philip' reappeared.  'And touchy!  We're going to have to have a long talk, Thomas Richards!'

"Careful, 'Philip,' or I'll sic Linda on you!"

The screen went dark and quiet.  Tom just shook his head and grinned at Bobby, who was looking very confused.  Before Tom could explain, the Phoenix van pulled up, and a pretty blonde woman and three kids stepped out, Oliver waved and pulled away.  Tom hurried over to meet them.  "Hi!  You must be Beth.  I'm Tom.  And this would be Dean, Sarah and Julie, I bet.  Welcome, all of you, to Haven!"  The three kids were looking rather awed by the size of the house, but they shook hands with Tom and said, It's good to meet you, sir!"  David came around the corner of the house and joined them.  He shook hands with Tom and turned toward his Dad.  "You wouldn't believe it, Dad!  We thought it was big, when we pulled up front, but that's not the half of it!"

Tom chuckled.  "Only about one third, and just wait 'til you meet my kids!"

Beth looked surprised.  "I didn't know you were married!"

"Well, these are adopted.  I had this big house, and it would have been a bit lonely with just me and 'Philip', so I decided I needed a family!"  Beth was looking as confused as her husband at this point.

"Well, let's not just stand around out here.  Come on around the side.  Samuel hasn't had a chance to get the ramp installed on the front steps yet.  He's been busy with other projects.  He's getting Phoenix House ready for the kids who will be living there, and, of course, that has to be completely accessible, because John, the director, is in a chair like yours, Bobby.  Then, he's working on rebuilding Lee's house, after the fire, and he's directing the men to start on the school, so his plate is pretty full."

By now, even the two little girls were standing there with their mouths open.  Tom just grinned and took them around to the ramp at the side door.  Once they got into the house, Tom escorted them to the library.  "Is anyone hungry or thirsty?  It's a couple of hours until dinner time."

He got everyone seated and turned toward the screen on the wall. "'Philip,' could you find, Neal, Andy, Jason, Patty and Genny, and ask them to come in here, please."

A very unhappy 'Philip' appeared on the screen.  'So, now you need the grouchy, touchy old man again?'  Beth and the kids sat there in total shock.

"I'm sorry, 'Philip.'  I forgot that you hear everything that's said around here.  But I'd really appreciate it, if you could find the kids and send them here.  Thank you, you old curmudgeon, you!"  He grinned at 'Philip.'

'Harrumph!  What I have to put up with around here!'  'Philip' disappeared.  Beth and the kids were looking at Tom as if he might be some sort of evil sorcerer.  Bobby was laughing at the looks on their faces.

"Well, now you've met Uncle 'Philip'.  He hasn't changed since he died!"

That didn't help to explain to the six stricken people, now looking back and forth between the blank screen and Tom.  Tom spoke up.  "Well, actually, he has!  He's a lot mellower now."  A disembodied voice spoke into the silence that followed his words.  'Harrumph!'

The library door burst open, and Neal rushed in, followed by the others.  Seeing the strangers, he stopped so suddenly that Patty, right on his heels, almost knocked him over.

"Uh, sorry, Dad, I didn't know you had company.  Jeez, Patty will you get off my foot?  Do I look like a gangplank to you?"

Patty giggled.  "Well, as a matter of fact, ...."

"OK, guys, let's cool it here.  We've got company.  Let's show them that we do have some manners."  The Haven kids calmed down and stood waiting.

Tom decided to skip the explanation of which families each of the kids belonged to.  He just introduced them to Bobby and his family by name.  Beth introduced her four kids.

Tom turned to Neal.  "These guys have just had a long drive to get here.  Why don't you guys take them to the kitchen and see if Mrs. Johnson can find a snack for them.  Then you can show them around and introduce them to some of the other guys.  Just get them back to the dining room in time for dinner, OK?"

"Kewl, Dad!  Come on, you guys!  You're gonna love this place!  And we've got some neat kids you'll want to meet, too!"  He opened the library door, and there was a general stampede into the hall.  Neal stuck his head back in the door.  "Sorry!"  He giggled and shut the door.

"There, now we can have a few minutes of peace and quiet-or as quiet as it gets around here!"  Tom turned to Beth.  "Why don't you sit down and be comfortable?  Unless I miss my guess, Mrs. Johnson will be here in a few minutes, after she gets the herd fed, with snacks for the grownups, too."  He turned to Bobby.  "Now that we have a little privacy, I'd really like to know what happened, what's been going on with you."

"Are you sure you really want to hear the whole story?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have asked."

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation.  It was Mrs. Johnson.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Richards, but I thought your guests might be tired and thirsty.  The kids were telling me that they drove all night to get here.  Dinner will be a while yet, since we just finished lunch, so maybe this will hold them over."  She stepped into the hall and brought in a tray with three tall glasses of iced tea and some small sandwiches and cookies.  She set them on the library table.

"Now, I'll get back to dinner and stop bothering you."  She turned to Bobby and Beth.  "If you want anything else, just ask 'Philip,' and he'll tell me."  She left, closing the door behind her.  Beth was shaking her head.

"This is the strangest place I've ever been!"

Tom chuckled.  "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet!"  He turned back to Bobby.  "So, what's the story?"  He handed each of them a glass of iced tea and offered them sandwiches, which they refused.  Tom took his tea and sat down, facing Bobby.

Bobby sighed and began.  "I don't know how much you know, so I'll start with when I left High School.  I met Beth the first part of tenth grade and, well we really fell for each other and, ah well we didn't use protection so by Christmas break we were in deep trouble.  Her parents disowned her and kicked her out.  My Dad was super pissed and insisted we get Married.  We couldn't do that there even with parental consent so that's why we picked up and moved back to our family in Mobile.  Mom and Dad didn't have a lot of money, but I managed to pass my GED and got a full scholarship to attend a local business college."  He paused and smiled lovingly at his wife.  "The twins came along, and we struggled, so I could go on for my CPA degree.  Beth worked, and I worked.  Mom took care of the boys.  Once I got my degree, it was a little easier.  I had talked to an Army recruiter in school, and he told me about the benefits for the family.  It sounded like a good deal, so I enlisted in the National Guard.  I only had to attend meetings once a Month, and two weeks in the summer, so it didn't mess up our family life much.  Of course, we knew about the war in Iraq, but it didn't really affect us much-until they started calling up the Guard!  My unit was called, and they sent us to Fort Bragg for training.  Beth and the boys came along.  We had Army housing, and she had PX and hospital privileges.  Everything was going fine until our unit shipped out."

"We were deployed to Baghdad.  When they checked my records and found out that I was a CPA, I was assigned to one of the officers in charge of procurement.  Except for dodging occasional bullets and watching out for suicide bombers, it was pretty much like working here in the States."  He grinned, but there was a trace of bitterness in the grin.

"I'd been there about four months.  I had to work late in the office one evening, so it was dark when I headed back to my billet.  I never heard them coming up behind me.  Four guys grabbed me, and one put a gag in my mouth so fast I didn't even have time to holler for help.  They tied my hands together behind my back and slipped a hood over my head, so I couldn't see where we were going.  It seemed like we were walking for half an hour, winding through all the little side streets.  When they stopped, one of them knocked on a door in some kind of code.  I heard the door open, and they pushed me inside."

"They were really rough!  They half pushed, half dragged me down what seemed to be a hall, and then I heard them open a door.  One of them shoved me inside and they took the hood off.  I was in a little room, about eight feet square, with a little bitty window way high up.  There was a pile of dirty blankets in one corner and a bucket in another.  They untied my hands and walked out, locking the door behind them.  The eerie part of the whole affair was that not one of them spoke a word, from the time they grabbed me until they walked out and left me alone in that room.  I was really scared.  I had no idea what was going to happen to me."

"A few minutes later, three big guys came into the room.  Two of them grabbed my wrists and pulled my arms out to the sides.  They stepped on my feet, so I couldn't move.  The third went through all my pockets, taking everything out and putting it in a bag.  He unbuckled my belt and took that and put it in the bag.  Then he said something to the other two.  They stepped off my feet, but still held my arms out.  The third guy squatted down and took off my shoes and socks.  Then he stood up, unpinned all my insignia and stuck them in his pocket.  Then he said something to the other two.  They let go of me.  One of them picked up my shoes and socks.  He held my shoes up and said something to the other two.  They both laughed.  Then they walked out and locked the door."

"I sat down on the pile of blankets and leaned against the wall.  I realized I was thirsty, but I figured there was no use asking for a drink.  The place was quiet now.  I couldn't hear a sound.  It seemed my captors had left, but I didn't know when they'd be back.  I was tired, but I was afraid to go to sleep, so I just sat there, leaned against the wall for what seemed like hours.  Gradually, I drifted off to sleep."

"I woke up suddenly, hearing someone outside the door.  There was a little light coming through the window.  The door opened and two guys came in.  One of them had a little bowl in his hands, some kind of soup.  The other had a handgun pointed at me.  The one with the gun pointed to the corner and gestured with the gun.  I moved over to the corner, and the other one set the bowl on the floor.  Then they both walked out and locked the door again.  I picked up the bowl.  It was some kind of murky broth with unidentifiable chunks floating in it.  It didn't really smell appetizing, but I was really thirsty, and I realized that I was hungry, too.  I tried a taste, and it didn't taste as bad as it smelled.  I drank the broth and picked up one of the chunks.  It was some kind of vegetable, so I tasted it.  Not bad!  I quickly ate the rest of the chunks in the bowl and set it on the floor by the door.  Then I went back and sat down on the blankets again.  I leaned up against the wall and just waited.  It was a couple of hours before I heard a key in the lock, and the door opened."

"Two big guys came in, again with handguns drawn.  They shoved me out of the room and took me down the hall to another room.  They opened the door and shoved me in.  Then they shut the door.  They were apparently on guard outside.  This was a room two or three times bigger than the one where they had put me.  It had no windows.  There was a table at the back.  Two guys were sitting at the table with pads of paper in front of them and pens in their hands.  They looked at me the way they would have looked at a monkey in a zoo."

"On either side of the table stood a big guy, glaring at me.  In front of the table, facing me stood a little guy, not as tall as I was.  He spoke to me in heavily accented, but very good, English."

"We have some questions for you.  If you answer them well, you will be released.  But we expect truthful answers."  He gave me a rather cold smile.  "So, are you going to make it easy for yourself, or are you going to be difficult?"

"I didn't know what to say.  I was being questioned, but about what?  I was a bookkeeper.  I certainly didn't have any information that would be useful to them.  I just looked at him and waited."

"Very well.  Now, we need to know the numbers and locations of American Army units in the city of Baghdad.  Tell us, please."

"I have no idea.  I'm a bookkeeper.  I work in procurement, ordering food for the troops, but for a whole area, including Baghdad.  I don't have anything to do with distributing the food to the troops.  That's another department."

The man turned toward the table and translated my words to the two men sitting there.  Both began writing quickly.  I almost laughed.  So this was the al Quaeda equivalent of a copy machine!  I got control quickly, as he turned back to me. "Not an acceptable answer.  Try again."

I just looked at him for a couple of seconds.  "You told me to be truthful, and that's the whole truth.  I don't have the information you're looking for."

He nodded to the big guys standing to the sides.  He stepped aside.  The two guys grabbed me.  One of them held my wrists, forcing my hands flat on the table.  The other one pulled his gun, and holding it by the barrel, began pounding my knuckles with the butt.  The pain was awful.  I yelled out.

The man who had been questioning me said something to the two of them, and they stepped back and stood waiting.  He stepped in front of me.  "Now, do you think you know anything that you may have forgotten to tell us before?"

I was holding my hands, massaging the painful knuckles, which were already swelling.  "No, I've told you everything I know.  I don't have any information about troop numbers or placement.  That's not my area." 

He looked decidedly unhappy.  The two big guys started to step forward, but he shook his head.  They stepped back.  He looked at me with an almost sad expression.  "You disappoint me.  Maybe you need a little time to search your memory and see if you can remember something that will be of use to us."  He raised his voice and called something in Arabic.  The door opened, and the two guards came in.  He spoke to them, and they dragged me out of the room and down the hall to my little room.  They pushed me roughly inside and locked the door.  I heard their footsteps retreating down the hall, and it was quiet again. 

"This went on for a couple of days.  I'd get a bowl of soup in the morning-that was all I had to eat each day!-and then I'd be taken back to that room and questioned.  My answers didn't change, and each day the "enforcers" pounded on my knuckles with their gun butts until my knuckles were so swollen and painful that I couldn't close my hands.  By the third day, I had a hard time picking up my soup bowl, and I spilled most of it on the dirty floor.  I was crying in frustration; I was so hungry all the time, and then to spill what I had!"

"The questioning was getting tougher.  The guy was really impatient with me now, and things started to change.  These guys must have read the Gitmo/Abu Ghraib guidelines on what were acceptable interrogation techniques.  I was forced to squat for hours at a time, with my fingers laced behind my neck.  I was kept up all night by loud music and cold water dashed in my face, if I started to doze.  I was stripped naked, and given electrical shocks to different parts of my body, including my genitals."

"I lost track of time.  I didn't know if it was day or night.  I didn't know how long I had been there.  Then one day they came and took me out of my cell.  I knew it was daytime, because I could see sunlight shining in my little window.  They took me down the hall again, to a different room.  The interrogator was there with the two guys who were recording everything.  There were three or four big guys there." 

"I noticed a big hook attached to the ceiling with what looked like a pulley system hanging from it.  The bozos grabbed me and tied my wrists together.  They attached the ends of the rope to the pulley system and pulled on the rope until my arms were stretched above my head.  Then the interrogator stepped up to me.  "We have tried to be patient with you, but you are not being cooperative.  Let's see if you can recall anything that might help us." He nodded at the man who was holding the end of the rope to the pulley system.  The guy pulled, and it felt as if my arms were being pulled out of their sockets.  The interrogator spoke again.  "Now, how many American troops are there in Baghdad, and where are they located?"

"I've told you; I don't know!"  My voice was choked, because the pain in my arms and shoulders was getting worse.  He nodded toward the man with the rope.  My heels were lifted off the floor and I was balanced on the balls of my feet.  I couldn't keep my balance, and I kept swaying back and forth.  The muscles in my arms and shoulders were screaming in pain.

"I am going to ask you just one more time.  How many American troops are there in Baghdad, and where are they located?"

I screamed out my answer:  "I've told you over and over. I don't know!"  He turned and walked out of the room.  The man with the rope pulled until I was stretched up with my toes barely on the floor.  Then another guy stepped up, carrying a heavy metal rod.  I saw the beginning of the swing and screamed as the blow connected with my kidneys.  He swung again and again.  I lost count.  Then, suddenly, he landed an extra hard blow, and I felt a terrible flash of pain in my back.  I realized that I had no feeling in my legs.  I passed out.

When I came to, I was back in my room, lying on the blankets.  My shoulders and arms ached terribly, but there was no pain in my back or legs from the beating.  I had no feeling there at all.  It took me a couple of minutes to get my mind working enough to realize what must have happened.

I must have shit myself and pissed in my pants while I was unconscious.  I couldn't feel it, but I could sure smell it!  It had been light when they took me out of the cell, but it was dark now.  I heard footsteps coming down the hall and the sound of my door being unlocked.  As the door opened, I could see two big guys coming into the room.  I couldn't see their faces, because the light from the hall was behind them.  They grabbed me by the wrists and started to drag me toward the door.  The pain in my shoulders made me scream out.  One of the guys kicked me in the side of the head.  Then they continued to drag me out of the room.  I pressed my lips together, so I wouldn't make any more noise.  I didn't want another kick.

"They stopped in the hall and pulled a hood over my head again.  Then they dragged me out of the building and through a twisted maze of streets.  I must have passed out again, briefly, because I don't know what happened, or how long we were going through the dark streets.  I came to, just as they dropped me.  With the hood on, I had no idea where I was.  I heard them laughing and talking, as they walked away.  Then I passed out again."

"The next thing I heard was a woman's voice, an American woman!  "Oh, my God!  Sergeant, get over here now!  I need your help here!"  Hands pulled gently at the hood, until it came off.  I was looking into the face of Major Greene, my boss.  She was crying.  Sergeant Willis, her secretary, bent over me.  When he got a good look at me, I could see tears in his eyes, too.

"Bobby, are you OK?  What happened?"  He started to help me sit up, and I yelled out when he moved me, "No, please!  Don't move me!  Please call the medics now!  I think my back's broken.  I can't feel my legs."  Sergeant Willis lost it; he burst into tears.

"OK, Bobby, I'll get someone, just as quick as I can!"  He ran off toward the office building where we worked.  Major Greene sat on the ground by me and gently rested my head in her lap.  Tears were streaming down her face, but she ignored them.

"We're going to get help for you, Bobby.  You're going to be all right."  It sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than me.

"The ambulance was there in less than five minutes.  Major Greene told them what she knew; then the EMT's got me on a back board and into the ambulance.  They rushed me to the hospital, and a team of doctors cleaned me up, did x-rays, CAT scans and all kinds of tests.  I told them how the back injury happened, so they checked my kidneys.  They were badly bruised, and one of them was so damaged that they had to remove it.  Fortunately, the other one healed.  After they got me stabilized there, they put me on a plane and sent me to Germany to a military hospital there.  I was in that hospital for almost six months.  They got me this chair and taught me how to use it.  Then they sent me home.  It was rather ironic that I came back to the States on the same flight as the guys I shipped out with.  They were coming back after their tour of duty, and all of us were ready to get home and back to our lives.  Well, they were; my life was changed drastically from the one I had before I left."

"When we got off the plane in our home town, it looked like everyone in town was there to meet us.  They were cheering, and a band was playing.  I was the last one off the plane.  When my chair was lowered on the lift, the band stopped playing, and it got awfully quiet.  People I'd known all my life barely spoke to me; they didn't know what to say.  The only ones who seemed really glad to see me were Beth and the boys.  They crowded around my chair and hugged me until I could hardly breathe."

"The Army had arranged for a wheelchair van to meet the plane.  They took me to the local VA hospital.  I was there for another two months.  Beth and the boys were there every day, and a lot of the guys from my unit dropped in to see me at first, but, gradually, they got busy with their own lives and I didn't see much of them after that."

"They told me in the hospital that I was being discharged with a medical discharge.  That should ensure me and my family of medical care from the military hospitals for the rest of my life.  The government bought us a little house and made it wheel chair accessible, and the VA got me a lift van of our own.  When I left the hospital, the doctors and nurses all shook hands with me and wished me well.  Then I was a civilian again."

"I talked with some of the guys from my unit.  Almost all of them had gone back to their old jobs, with no loss of pay or retirement for their time in the service.  A couple of them had found better jobs.  I called my boss I had been working for to see if I still had a job with him.  He had heard about my injury, and he was a little hesitant at first, but he came to the house and we talked the situation over.  I could do my work from my computer at home, and most of what we needed to consult about could be taken care of on the phone.  So we shook hands and he welcomed me home and back to work."

"The boss talked with the owner of the building where we were located about having the building made wheel chair accessible.  The building owner flatly refused, saying that it was too big an expense for one person, and who knew how long I'd be working there?  So, we went ahead as we had planned.  I did my work at home, and the boss called, usually once a day, to discuss things with me.  Sometimes there were situations that couldn't be handled on the phone, so he would come to the house.  He is a bachelor, so Beth always invited him to stay for dinner.  He did, quite often."

"We had always wanted four kids, two boys and two girls.  Well, we had our two boys, but now there was no chance of having any more.  We talked it over and decided to see if we could adopt a couple of little girls.  We contacted the Child Protective Service.  A case worker came out to the house and interviewed us.  She checked out the house and talked with my boss.  We were approved, and about a month later, we got a call.  They had a little girl from an abusive home.  Would we be interested in meeting her, perhaps acting as foster parents, with the option of adoption, if everything worked out well?  Would we!  The case worker brought her to our house.  It was Julie.  She was the cutest little thing, but she was terribly shy.  She had been beaten and mistreated, starved for small acts of disobedience.  We were sold right then!  We signed all the papers, and Julie came to live with us.  It took a long time for her to accept us, especially me.  Her father had been the one who beat her.  Her mother used withholding of food as a punishment.  When she found out that Beth not only wouldn't make her go hungry, but usually had cookies or other treats available whenever she wanted them, she quickly accepted Beth.  It took several months before she began to accept me.  I think the boys helped with that.  They were big brothers, and I heard one of them telling her, "You don't have to be scared of him!  He can't get out of that chair, and you can outrun the chair, if he decides to spank you!"  I heard her giggle, a rare sound from her, but I noticed that she seemed less afraid of me after that.

"Sarah came to us in much the same way.  Her parents were divorced, and her mother's live-in boyfriend not only abused her physically, but sexually, as well.  She was terrified of me, but the boys, aided by Julie, used the same logic on her that they had used on Julie.  It didn't take her nearly as long to accept me as it had taken Julie.  She became 'Daddy's girl', and she loved to sit in my lap, while I read her stories.  And, by the way, she's still 'Daddy's girl'.  Julie follows Mommy around the house, helping her with anything she's doing, but Sarah seems to want to be close to Daddy.  If I need something, she runs to get it for me.  When she gets home from school, she hollers "Hi!" to Mommy, and then she comes to sit by me, if I'm working, or on my lap, if I'm not.  Julie's just the opposite; she comes in and gives me a kiss, and then she's off to help Mommy."

"Things were going fine.  We were able to adopt both girls, so we had our family of two boys and two girls.  I was working, and I get a very small pension from the Army.  Then, one evening, the boss came over to the house, and Beth invited him to stay for dinner.  After dinner, he said, "I'd like to talk to the two of you, if I could."  He looked very serious, so Beth sent the girls up to their rooms to play.  The boys went outside to play ball with their friends.  We went into the living room and they sat down, the boss on the couch, and Beth in a chair next to me.  He looked decidedly uncomfortable.  He cleared his throat and started."

"Bob, I don't know how to say this.  Your work is excellent, but I've got a real problem.  There are so many little things that we should be able to confer about as they come up, but you can't get into the office, and it's hard for me to get over here, every time I need to talk to you.  Besides, I usually forget something I wanted to talk to you about, and I have to make another trip.  Of course, that means another of Beth's good meals!"  He grinned at her, and she blushed.  "But Bob, I can't keep this up.  The business is suffering, because I'm not able to keep a firm grip on everything.  I hate to have to do it, but I've got to let you go and get someone who can be in the office."  He was looking really miserable now.

"I looked over at Beth.  She was holding back tears, and she gave me a helpless look.  I turned to the boss.  "I understand your position.  You've been kind to take me back and keep me as long as you have under the conditions we're forced to live in.  And, of course, your first priority should be your business.  That's what keeps food on your table."  He looked relieved, and after a little small talk and thanking Beth for dinner, he left.

"Beth started to cry.  "What are we going to do now?  How are we going to live?  Oh, Bobby, I'm so scared!"  I leaned over and held her as she cried on my shoulder.  When she settled down, we talked for about an hour.  We knew that we couldn't make it on my pitiful pension, and Beth couldn't get a job; she had to be at home with me.  She even has to change my diapers!  Well, Depends, but what's the difference, when you come right down to it?  The boys are big enough to get me in and out of bed and into my chair.  They even help me take showers.  They are two of the greatest kids you'll ever meet in your life.  I'm supposed to be taking care of them, but they're taking care of me, and doing a damn good job of it!"  His pride in his boys was written all over his face!"

He continued, "There's nothing for me in our town.  Oh, all our old friends are sympathetic, but they don't come around much.  They're too uncomfortable around me; they don't know what to say to me.  I can't convince them that I'm still the same guy they knew before.  All they can see is this damn chair.  So we thought about it, talked it over, and decided to come up here and talk to you."

"I want it clear, right up front; I'm not looking for a handout!  But I've done a lot of research on your businesses, and I'm sure there must be a place in your organization for a good CPA, and dammit, I am a good one!  If you don't have an opening for me, maybe you can recommend me to someone who does have one.  I want to work, I want to take care of my family, and I want to be proud of myself again!"  He looked as if he might cry."

Tom stood up and walked over to Bobby's chair.  He was crying now; so was Beth, but Bobby had related the whole story in the same flat, unemotional tone he might have used to tell about a trip to the grocery store.  Tom realized that this was a man who didn't feel sorry for himself; he just wanted to provide for his family.  He gave Bobby a long look.

"I know you don't want a handout.  You've been through too much, and you've come out of it stronger.  And, as a matter of fact, I do know of a position open that you could fill very well.  Your chair wouldn't be a problem.  Since you two have kids, and you took two of them in from terrible circumstances and gave them love and a good home, I think you might be better suited to this job than anyone I can think of.  Would the two of you excuse me for a couple of minutes?  I need to make a phone call."  He walked out of the room, leaving the two of them looking at each other with confused, but hopeful, faces.

He came back into the room and gave them a long, searching look.  "I've got just one more question for the two of you.  I know you love your kids, but do you think you could deal with a bigger family, a much bigger family?  These kids have been through hell, and they need a lot of love and understanding.  Do you think you have it to give them?"

Becky looked at him.  "How many kids are we talking about here?"

"About forty, give or take a few."

"Forty!"  The two exclaimed in one voice.  Bobby spoke first; Beth was still in shock.  "Tom, I remember you as a kid.  You were always the kidder then.  Are you kidding us now?"

Tom looked him straight in the eye.  "Nope!  It will take you a while to get all the details sorted out, but we've got around sixty kids, all together, who desperately needed a home and needed all the love we could give them.  They absorb it like little sponges!  But they give it back, too, multiplied, like the story of the loaves and fishes.  So, what do you think?  Are you at least willing to learn a little more about the program here?  Or should I say "programs," since you'll be working in a different program than I am."

Beth smiled at him.  "All you had to say was kids who need love, and you had my vote, and, I think, Bobby's vote, too.  Yes, we're interested.  Just tell us what we have to do."  She looked at Bobby with a hopeful smile, and he nodded and returned the smile.

"OK, then, come with me.  You're going to meet your new bosses.  And be prepared for a pleasant surprise."  He led them down the hall to the elevator.

"'Philip' has ordered a new elevator for this building and the other one, but, until they arrive and are installed, we have to make do with what we have.  This one creaks and jiggles, but it gets you where you're going.  It only sounds as if it were about to give out."  He chuckled as he opened the door and stepped aside for Bobby to get his chair inside.  There was barely room for Beth and Tom, but they made it to the third floor.  When they stepped out in the hall, they were almost run down by a group of young kids playing tag.  "Hey, you guys, cool it, OK?" Tom called after the boys, who hollered back, "OK!" and disappeared at the same speed.  Tom turned to Beth and Bobby.  "We've still got a few little things to iron out."  He chuckled and led them down the hall.  He stopped in front of one of the doors and knocked.  A pleasant woman opened the door.

"Hi, Tom!  Are these the people you were talking about?"  Tom nodded, and she continued.  "I'm Becky.  Come on in and meet my husband, John."  She stepped back to let Bobby into the room in his chair.  He stopped suddenly, and Beth almost fell into his lap.

"Hi, I'm John.  You must be Bobby and Beth.  I'm so glad to meet you.  Tom gave us a little of your background, and you sound like a godsend to us."  He wheeled his chair close enough to shake hands with Bobby, who was sitting there with his mouth open.  Bobby swiveled his chair around to face Tom, who stood grinning behind him.  "Why didn't you tell us?"  Tom just shrugged.

"Would it have made a difference?  It doesn't to us, so why should it bother you?"  He turned to John.  "I was thinking that Bobby could fill the same position at Phoenix House that Ed does at Haven.  How does that sound to you?"

"Like music to my ears!  When can he start?"

"I don't think he should start until after dinner, and if we don't get to the dining room before the urchins stampede into it, we're liable to be trampled to death, and, if we survive that, we'll starve, because there won't be anything left to eat!"

John and Becky laughed.  "You may think he's kidding, now, but just wait!  One meal with these little savages, and you may change your mind about wanting to work here!"  John turned to Tom now.  "Why don't you guys go down, and we'll be right behind you.  Then we can get to the dining room and be safely out of the way, when the stampede begins."  

Tom laughed and escorted Bobby and Beth back to the elevator.  When they got to the main floor, they waited for John and Becky to come down.  Then they all went together to find a quiet part of the dining room, where they could sit and talk during dinner. 
 

Guest Editor's Notes:
Thanks Arli.  This is a wonderful addition to Phoenix.  I changed only a few details so this story fits smoothly in The Last Phoenix.  Bobby and John will be able to really help each other and the boys too.  In the next chapter we will get to see the boys at Phoenix and then how Bobby, Beth and their kids react to the Phoenix, Haven, Fire crews as they descend on the dinner.
Thanks again for the story.  Let Arli know if you liked the story.
            Str8mayb

Editor's Notes: 
I must say that I am duly impressed. As you may have noticed, there were some differences in style, but all in all, this story fit right into the scheme of things.  I managed to add a word or two myself. I will point out that I made no changes to the chapter once Bobby started telling his story. I did add just a little bit in the first part to the dialog. I wonder if anyone will notice what I changed.  Probably not, since I am so subtle at it. <Grin>
Darryl AKA The Radio Rancher

Fort Chief Editors Notes: 
First of all I would like to welcome Arli to Str8myb's Evil Authoring Team; he is a great addition. This was a very interesting and enlightening chapter. I am looking forward to more collaborations such as this.

However I sincerely believe that Tom needs to go see a Neurologist to see if he has a functioning brain. If he does he might need to visit Dr. Lisa himself.

Neal if you only knew what is waiting in the wings for you in H3. <Evil Laughter stolen I mean borrowed from Str8mayb>

The Story Lover