Whiteout by Jonah
Those who have read my previous stories will need no introduction to Simon and Garret and their family. Those who haven't - why not? This is the latest in the series that began a couple of years back with "A Letter from America" and it fits in right after "Christmas in New England". If you haven't read the others, don't worry. It will stand on its own. It is a story of love - the real sort. Some of its characters are gay, though that doesn't matter. They are good people. They are not, however, real people. This is a work of fiction and every character is also a fiction - created by me, except for Garret, who was created by Jacob Lion, in the USA. I want to thank Jacob for permitting me to use his characters. This story is brought to you, free of charge, by Nifty. Nifty brings all these stories to you free of charge and he doesn't charge us authors either. The cost is borne by himself and our donations. To keep this site going please consider donating to Nifty at https://donate.nifty.org/
chapter 9
Next morning it was school as usual. The only sign remaining of the snow was the remnant of the heaps piled up by the ploughs and, since it was raining steadily, they were probably not long for this world. With wind and driven rain swirling around us, I was glad I'd retrieved my car.
"How come we always leave before the others?"
"We don't always. We just have yesterday and today."
"So how come?"
"Well yesterday it was because we had to walk while they had a car. Today it's because I need to talk to Mr. Kennedy before school starts."
"And what's it going to be tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow we let them leave first."
In a car it doesn't take long to reach the CTC. I let Ross go find his mates while I went to find Grev.
"Word Sir?" I requested.
"Serious if you're saying Sir. You know my door is always open."
"It's just some advice I need. I have to be sure I'm doing the right thing."
"Sit down and tell me about it."
"It's young Philip. You know his Dad's in prison for battering his mum to death while under the influence of illegal drugs?"
"Yes, I know. Go on."
"Last night he told me he hates his dad and wants to kill him."
"And does he?"
"He doesn't usually lie, and I don't think he was trying to shock."
"So you know the drill."
"Take him seriously. Don't look shocked. Encourage him to talk it out. I wasn't happy about that last one in front of his brothers."
"But you did all the right things."
"I just wondered if we should be getting the trauma counsellor in."
"For Philip, or for you?"
"What?"
"You're worried that Philip might be suffering delayed trauma from what happened, but I'm sitting here with someone showing signs of trauma right in front of me. Didn't Social Services tell you that could happen when you took the job? If you're going to take on the boys' worries, somebody needs to take on yours."
"You're thinking I'm not up to it?"
"I'm thinking I have a duty of care toward you just as you have for your children. The job you have in front of you is bigger than any man could cope with so you owe it to yourself, and all who depend on you, to get the right help."
"Sir, I don't think..."
"No, you probably dont, but I think I should be asking Eric Rust to have a chat with you. He can also answer your question better than I can."
"You're putting me on mandatory counselling?"
"Nothing in this life is mandatory Simon, but there are a lot of things you'd be stupid not to do."
He was right. I couldn't deny it.
"Thank you Sir."
"And drop the "Sir" when we're on our own."
""Sorry Sir...I mean...thanks Grev."
I had my own form for RE right after registration, then I got a bunch of first years until dinner time.There was lasagne and chips for dinner but, halfway between a hotel breakfast and a hotel dinner, I thought it wiser to opt for just the chips.
The afternoon session was spent in the metalwork shop with two different lots of senior students. The end-of-school bell, when it came, almost came as a surprise. The afternoon had flown.
"Good day Sir.... I mean Simon?" asked Ross as he climbed into the car.
"I've had worse," I told him.
That, apparently, was a converation killer. The rest of the drive to the hospital was in silence.
We reached the intensive care ward to find Doctor Woods and the IC technician at Mrs. Coulter's bedside with a nurse.
"We're just discussing how we're going to proceed. Your mum has made good progress and we're thinking that tomorrow we could try bringing her out of the coma. We think she might be able to cope with that."
"Hi Mum!" Ross said.
"You see that monitor there?" Doctor Woods said pointing. "all that activity on it started as soon as you spoke to her just now. We know it's doing good because that other monitor is showing a good strong heartbeat. It was't doing that a few days ago."
"The doctor says you're trying hard and doing really well Mum. I hope so because I really miss you. "
The upper monitor was going crazy now. Ross smiled.
"I can see you are Mum. We'll be talking again soon."
Back at the hotel I relayed all this to Garret.
"It'll be strange not having him around."
"I think we've got him for a while yet. You don't just switch off an induced coma and they're dancing in the street next morning."
"I suppose not. Anyway, time for dinner."
Dinner was as it always was, delicious and substantial. I don't know whether that was normal practice or whether they were simply glad of the out-of-season business. I wasn't complaining either way.
Bedtime occurred at about nine-ish since tomorrow was a school day for all of us.
"Daddy!"
"Philip."
"Do you mind me calling you Daddy?"
"Of course not. I don't expect you to, but it's nice when you do.
"Even though my Daddy was horrible?"
"Well he wasn't. He was just very, very silly."
"I still hate him."
"Jesus said you should forgive him."
"I know. I'm trying to but I think I still hate him."
"Well keep trying to forgive him and, when you say your prayers, ask God to help you."
Of course, I put that in my prayers too. I slept a little better that night.