The Castaway Hotel: Book 4

The week between Christmas and New Year’s was quite hectic and passed by quickly. Not only were the boys busy enjoying their new presents, as well as getting to enjoy some of their brothers’ new presents too, but the Spences, Yamadas, O’Haras and Lawrences were also spending time getting to know all of them even better. At the same time, the adults, especially the Spences and myself, were busy overseeing the work of setting up our charity. By the end of the week, all of the necessary tasks to establish the Foundation had been almost totally completed, so Mr. Spence began making arrangements for the money to be transferred, just as soon as we were ready for it.

Also during this time, a big holiday wrestling tournament was taking place and Dustin and Cole were each competing in it. I had to take them down early that morning to get weighed in, so I dropped them off with their coach and teammates and then a group of us drove down to watch them compete later. I think those who had never seen them in action were quite impressed, especially with Dustin’s performance. Not only did he defeat each of his opponents, he pinned most of them, on his way to becoming the tournament winner in his weight class.

Cole did well too, winning each of his contests, up until the finals. During that match, he injured his shoulder while trying to make a move and that hampered his performance throughout the remaining two periods. He ended up losing on points, but it was still very close, and all of the boys told him he would have won, if he hadn’t sustained that freak injury. Even Dustin congratulated him and told him how well he’d done, which seemed to mean more to Cole than everything else combined.

Now that the wrestling tournament was behind us, the reporters and photographers began to show up and started taking notes and snapping pictures. They took quite a few shots of my family, including some of the Spences with my boys, in order to show the benefactors with the group that had inspired them. Both reporters took very detailed notes on the Spences’ life histories and what motivated them to make such a large gift. John and Margaret were very honest and open and concluded by saying they ‘hoped to allow other children to enjoy the love and support that my boys had received since coming to live with me.’ During his interview, Nick even told them how we had helped him and about how we also helped the family from Arizona.

After learning about this new bunch, the reporters asked if they could contact them, to see if they could add their experience to this story. I told them I’d have to call them first, to see how they felt about it, but I would let them know just as soon as I did. Nick was thrilled when the family agreed to participate, since he was the reason we’d run across them in the first place, so his involvement would get mentioned accordingly.

We also got to give our input as to how we would like to see the article slanted (more toward the charity than about our family) and both reporters said they would send us a copy of their story via email, so we could peruse it and give them our comments, before they submitted it to their editors. We thanked them for their time, effort and cooperation, before they were on their way.

There was still one additional surprise the boys didn’t know about. When I had talked to Mark about spending Christmas with his mother, I’d also mentioned the Foundation and the possible position for him and he seemed very interested in it. After making a suggestion and having him talk it over with his mother, he agreed to fly out after Christmas, so the other members of the Board could meet him. He would spend the remainder of his winter break with us, so he could meet the CFO and spend some time with him learning his new job. It also meant he’d be there to participate in our New Year’s celebration as well. This way, not only would the trip offer him a chance to gain some professional experience, but it would also give him time to party with us and spend some quality time with the boys. I was picking him up at the end of the week, but I only told the boys the day before. Danny and Brandon were very excited to hear about this little surprise, although the rest of the boys seemed eager to see Mark too.

Mark flew into Baltimore on the Friday before New Year’s, so I’d be home on the weekend and have some time to relax before the big celebration. Danny and Brandon had asked to go with me, so they joined me in the Grand AM to go pick Mark up. I don’t know why I happened to have him fly in and out of Baltimore, because we’d never used that particular airport before, but I think it had something to do with the timing of the flights. It wasn’t a problem, since it was about the same distance away as either Philadelphia or Pittsburgh, and it did give us another option for any future trips.

The rest of the family stayed at home, with the older boys in charge, as I had promised. It was a somewhat boring trip, but Mark was excited to see us, so that made it all worthwhile. Mark eagerly hugged all three of us and thanked us for thinking of him like this. I gave much of the credit for this to the boys, telling him it was their idea to utilize his talents, but he said he also knew that it wouldn’t have happened without my backing. He also thanked me again for flying him home for Christmas and then supplying him with the airline ticket to fly here and then back to college. I told him it was our pleasure, before we went off to collect his luggage.

While we were waiting, an announcement was made stating there would be a slight delay in getting the baggage from his flight to the carousel. Undaunted by the news, we left that area and went to get a drink at the snack bar, until the airlines got things squared away. By the time we got back, Mark’s suitcase was the only one coming around the carousel, which seemed to indicate everyone else had picked up their luggage and Mark’s bag had been aimlessly riding the carousel for who knows how long. Almost as soon as Mark verified the suitcase was his, Danny grabbed it for him and carried it out to the car. He stored it in the trunk and then we set off on the long ride back. The boys let Mark ride up front, with me.

There were no major highways between Baltimore and our home, unless we wanted to go the long way around, so we traveled some of the older state and county roads. We were tooling along, laughing and having a great time, when Brandon yelled for me to stop. I slammed on the brake and then asked him what was wrong. He then informed me that he wanted me to stop so we could pick up the young boy who was hitchhiking – the one we had just passed. I told him I hadn’t considered doing that, since we had a full car and there really wasn’t any room for him, but Brandon quickly responded the boy could sit in the back, with Danny and him. He suggested they would squeeze together and give the kid enough space to be comfortable. Once Danny agreed, I gave in to his request and started backing up. When the boy saw what I was doing, he began running in our direction. We met him part way.

The kid was a little on the dirty side, but it didn’t hide the fact that he was cute. I imagine that’s why Brandon had screamed for me to stop. I was wondering what Danny was thinking about the situation, but I could also see him eyeing the boy out of the rear and side windows, just like his boyfriend. The kid appeared to be about 5’ 7”, had blond hair, blue eyes and an athletic build, which meant he was muscular, but not overly so. The boy ran up to the car and quickly looked inside.

“I can give you a ride, if you don’t mind squeezing into the back seat with my boys,” I told him. He eyed Danny and Brandon and then grinned.

“That would be fine,” he announced.

“Let me put your things in the trunk first,” I suggested, while getting out. “It will make your ride less cramped.” He agreed, threw his things in the trunk and then moved around to the side again and started to enter.

“I’ll sit in the middle, ‘cuz I’m smaller,” he suggested, as a way of justifying his move, but I don’t think either Danny or Brandon were about to complain.

“Where are you headed?” I asked, trying to figure out what he was doing hitchhiking on a mostly deserted stretch of highway.

“Oh, as far as you’re going,” he responded casually, not giving me any more information than he needed to. However, I wasn’t about to let that answer go.

“But where exactly are you going?” I asked, pressing the issue. “It’s possible that we’re going farther than you’d wish to travel.”

“I doubt that,” he replied, still being cryptic and mysterious about his destination.

“Where are you coming from?” Brandon asked him, since he saw I was becoming a little annoyed with the boy’s evasiveness.

“Baltimore,” the kid stated, succinctly.

“Really, us too,” Brandon informed him. “We just picked our friend up at the airport there.” Even though Brandon was excited about the coincidence, the information didn’t seem to faze the boy and he didn’t respond.

“What’s your name?” Mark asked him, figuring possibly the young man might respond to him.

“Brent,” was all the kid said.

“How old are you, Brent?” Mark continued, as he tried to learn more about him. The boy hesitated before he answered.

“Fourteen. Why?” he shot back, acting worried. I think he thought we were getting a little too personal.

“Just wondering. I didn’t mean anything by it,” Mark told him, trying to assuage his concerns.

Analyzing everything that had gone on up to this point, Danny summed up the situation and decided it might help to tell the kid about us. First he introduced us all, and then he gave him the short version of how we became a family. The boy instantly became interested in what he heard and started asking questions of his own.

“You adopted all of those boys?” he asked me, surprised, after hearing the tale about our family. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because they needed someplace to go where it was safe and stable, and I was able provide that for them,” I explained. “Besides, I knew I would enjoy their company too.” Brent looked at me and took a few minutes to think about my response before he said anything more.

“Are you still adopting boys?” he asked, quite bluntly.

“I guess that would depend on the situation,” I replied, “but I would never turn down a boy who needed my help. In fact, we have just started a Foundation to help children in need to find good homes or help their parents to be able to provide for them adequately.”

He thought about what I had just told him and I felt he was considering something more. “What if it were me?” he asked, after a few minutes of thought.

“I can’t answer that without knowing more about you and your family situation,” I responded, hoping that might help to loosen his tongue. “I can’t make a wise decision without having all the necessary facts to base it upon. I get a great deal of satisfaction from assisting boys who truly need my help, but I also try not to be used by those who have merely had a minor squabble with their parents or are just rebellious.”

He hung his head and thought about it some more. “I’m not like that and I’ll tell you all about me, if you’re really gonna help me. But I don’t want to tell you all of that if you’re just gonna say no.”

“I’d never say no without a good reason,” I explained, “and even if I decided I wouldn’t be able to do anything for you myself, I would try to find other ways to help you instead.”

“But I’m not sure I’d want those other choices,” he almost whined, “but I do think I’d like to see what it’s like at your place.”

“Well, why don’t you tell us about yourself, while I continue driving toward home,” I suggested, “and then I’ll be able to give you some choices.”

A strange expression came over Brent’s face, which expressed the fear and uncertainty he was feeling. He quickly studied the reflection of my face in the rear-view mirror, before deciding on his next course of action. Having finally made up his mind, he spoke. “I don’t think I’m ready to tell everyone in the car, but I’ll tell you, if we can find a way to talk alone.”

I gave him a reassuring smile and nodded. “I’ll tell you what. We could all probably use something to eat, so what if I stopped somewhere, then you and I could sit alone and discuss this further?”

Brent looked suddenly relieved, like he had finally found someone who understood him. Feeling better about his current situation, he flashed a small grin and answered. “Yeah, that would work.”

We drove a little farther before I found some place that looked acceptable. It was a small diner that from the outside appeared to be clean and not too busy, so I eased into the parking lot. Once we were inside, I had the other boys sit in one booth, while Brent and I went to another booth farther down. We made ourselves comfortable, looked over the menu, decided what we wanted to eat and gave the waitress our order. Once that had been taken care of, I finally spoke. “Are you ready to tell me now?”

“Are you sure you aren’t going to turn on me because of what I have to say?” he asked, and I could almost read the fear in his eyes.

“Believe me, I’ve heard almost everything imaginable from my sons,” I assured him. “You wouldn’t believe some of the stories they told me about the way they were treated before they came to live with me, so don’t worry. I won’t hate you because of what others have done to you.”

Brent thought for a minute before he replied. “But what if it’s something about me… something you don’t like?”

“Maybe I can offer you some reassurance,” I announced, in as soft a tone as I could manage. “I don’t dislike people for who or what they are. My boys are from different races, different religions, different backgrounds and even have different sexual preferences, but I love them all equally.”

Brent seemed to pick up on something I had said and a shocked look came over his face. “Do you mean some of your sons are gay?” he asked, incredulously.

“Yes, some of them like boys, while others like girls and some don’t seem to care which sex they date,” I informed him, having guessed this might be the issue he had been referring to.

“And that doesn’t… well… um… bother you?” he stammered.

“No! Should it?” I asked, while giving him a wink.

“I don’t think it should, but it does bother a lot of people,” he explained. “They don’t think boys should like other boys that way.”

“I know some people feel that way,” I agreed, “but I also know many people feel they didn’t have a choice in how they feel or which sex they’re attracted to. Is that why you ran away?”

“I didn’t tell you that I ran away,” he shot back, looking scared again.

“I think that fact was pretty obvious,” I informed him. “Why else would you be out hitchhiking on such a desolate strip of highway? Now, do you want to tell me WHY you ran away?”

Brent looked a little embarrassed that I had figured out his situation and let his head droop toward the table. After a few seconds, he finally answered. “My mom and dad found out I was gay and tried to change me. When that didn’t work and I continued to want to be with other boys, they told me I had to leave. They said they weren’t about to have any fairies living under their roof.” He hung his head again and I could see the tears streaking down his cheeks, so I wanted to make sure he knew I understood his situation and didn’t feel the same way.

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” I began. “I don’t understand how parents can treat their children that way. If you don’t mind me asking, how did they find out you were gay? Did they catch you with another boy?”

“No, nothing like that,” he quickly countered, with a look of surprise. “It was just my stupidity that got me busted. I was going to join the Gay-Straight Alliance at my school, so one of my counselors asked me if I was gay. Foolishly, I told her I was. Then she asked me if anyone knew about that and I told her only a couple of my best friends. She asked directly if my parents knew I was gay and I told her no, so that’s when she began insisting I tell them. I explained that I wasn’t ready to do it just yet and she questioned me about why I didn’t want them to find out. After explaining my reasons to her, she told me she strongly disagreed with my arguments, but I told her I wasn’t going to change my mind. Later that night, she called my house and told them herself.”

“That’s unbelievable!” I exclaimed. “She had no right to breech your confidence that way.”

“I didn’t think so either,” Brent nearly sobbed, “but now my father knew about it and I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. At first he wasn’t too bad or very upset, but he did tell me he was going to send me away to one of those camps where they’d fix me. That actually happened the week before our Thanksgiving break. Since I didn’t see anything wrong with the way I was, I didn’t cooperate with the people running the camp, so things got very bad. They treated me awful, made all kinds of threats and made my stay there a living hell. Eventually, they gave up and sent me back home, telling my parents I was a hopeless case. That’s when my father really got angry.

“He started swearing and screaming at me, saying I was a sick and disgusting pervert. After he did that for a few minutes, he yanked off his belt and started whipping me with it. I think he might have killed me if I hadn’t managed to slip away from him and run out of the house. He followed me out the front door and kept screaming at me, telling me that I was never to come back, because I wasn’t welcome there any longer.”

“That sounds absolutely awful,” I commiserated, “but maybe he’s calmed down since then and changed his mind.”

“No way!” Brent almost screamed, drawing some attention to us, before he calmed down again. Once Brent felt the other customers and employees were no longer staring at us, he continued. “I called him the next night to see if I could come back home, and he told me he no longer had a son and that he never wanted to hear from me again. I cried all night after I hung up. I always loved my dad, so I couldn’t understand why he no longer loved me?”

“I think he still does,” I suggested, “but he’s confused and unable to cope with such things. What about your mother? Does she feel the same way?”

“Uh huh,” he answered, sounding like a frightened little kid. “The next day, I called her where she worked and she told me never to call her again. She said she was ashamed to have a fag for a son and would help my dad beat me to a pulp, if they ever saw me again.”

I thought this might just be their misguided attempt at ‘tough love,’ as they tried to let their son know he wasn’t welcome back until he was willing to change, but it evidently backfired.

Brent was really sobbing now, so I led him back to the men’s room to allow him to wash his face and calm down. I said everything I could think of to reassure him, but it took some time before he was ready to go back out. By the time we returned to the booth, our food was already waiting for us, so I told him we’d eat first, before we continued. This would give him some time to regain his composure and enjoy the food. Besides, I didn’t want his meal to get cold or him to choke on it, due to his agitated state. However, he only took a few bites of his meal before he continued telling me his story. I didn’t stop him, because it seemed very important for him to clear the air.

“I waited around the neighborhood for about a week, hoping my parents might change their mind,” he whispered. “I slept wherever I could and ate whatever food my friends could sneak out to me, and then I tried to call home again, but the same thing happened. The next day, I slipped into my house and packed up as many of my things as I could. By this point, I had already decided to run away, but knew I would need some of my clothes and other stuff, or I wouldn’t get very far. I was almost done loading up my backpack and duffel bag, when my mom passed by my room and saw me. I thought she’d be working later than that and hadn’t heard her come home early. I guess she was heading for her own room to rest, after coming home sick. She started screaming at me and then slapped me, before she ran to her room to phone the police. I heard her tell them she wanted me arrested for breaking and entering and for stealing from them. I grabbed everything I had packed and got the hell out of there. I hid out for two more days, until I felt the cops were no longer watching for me, and then I started walking and hitchhiking. That was yesterday, but you can see I haven’t gotten very far.’

“Did you have any particular destination in mind?” I asked him.

“Not really. I just took the first road I could hitch a ride on,” he replied.

“Wasn’t that person suspicious, when you didn’t tell him where you were going?” I pressed.

“But I did tell him,” he explained. “I told him I was heading to the next town to visit my grandparents. He dropped me off there, in front of a house that I pointed out to him, and then I pretended to go up to the front door as he drove off. As soon as he was out of sight, I went back to the road and started walking and hitching again.”

“That’s quite a story and I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I told him, as I placed a hand over one of his. “You don’t have to worry now, because I’m not about to leave you here alone. Would you like to go home with us and give me some time to see what I can do to help you?”

“Would you really do that?” he asked, excitedly.

“Of course I would, if that’s what you want,” I assured him. “I won’t make any promises other than we’ll make sure you’re well taken care of and safe.” I squeezed his hand gently, so he knew I meant it, and he began bouncing in his seat.

“That would be great!” he exclaimed. “I won’t need much and I can sleep on the couch or even on the floor. I won’t eat much either and I’ll take care of myself. I’ll help with the chores and I won’t cause any problems for you…” I cut him off.

“Whoa, slow down there, champ. Why don’t you just enjoy your meal and we’ll talk about the rest of the details later.”

“Will I have to tell the others about all of this?” he asked, looking concerned.

“Not if you don’t want to, but they’ve all been in situations as bad or worse than your own,” I explained. “I know they’d understand and not think badly of you because of what happened, but it’s your decision.”

“You really think they’d be okay if they knew everything?” he pressed, still looking worried.

“I do, but I’ll let you get to know them first and then you can decide for yourself,” I suggested.

“They’re not going to be upset that I wouldn’t tell them what I told you, will they?” he wanted to know.

“No, they understand that everyone needs privacy and there are some things people don’t feel comfortable sharing with strangers. They won’t even give it a second thought.” He nodded his head in understanding and went back to his meal. Now that he felt a little more relaxed, he attacked his food like he hadn’t eaten in a while. When we were finished, I paid the bills for both tables and we squeezed back into the car.