George offered to pay for Jake's college if Jake was still interested in being a dairy farmer and took courses for it when he went. Meanwhile, Patrick made a killing taking guests on the trails.
In Civics Class, they were studying the judicial system and Scott was going to be the defendant with Patrick representing him. There was just one hitch, the case hit too close to home for Patrick.
Patrick tried out for the football team.
Patrick and Scott had Language Arts I for their first class. After the tardy bell rang and attendance was taken, the teacher stated, "Two days ago was the fifteenth anniversary of the attack on the World Trade Center in New York. None of you were born yet, but I want to discuss the people who died. Some people say they were heroes, but were all of them?"
One of the girls in class raised her hand, "I don't think all of the people who died were heroes. Some were simply victims."
"I tend to feel the same way, Melissa," Mr. Yates concurred. "So, what makes a hero?"
"My heroes are football players," one boy blurted out.
Melissa asked, "Are football players really heroes?"
"That is an excellent question," Mr. Yates commented. "You have the remainder of the class to write an essay on what you consider to be a hero. I would like your essays to be around five hundred words. If you do not finish, it will be your homework, and if you do finish, you won't have any."
When school let out, Jim was there to pick Patrick up. Immediately, Patrick told him about the paper he had to write. "I hope Uncle Chris doesn't mind, but I used him as an example."
Jim smiled, "He won't mind, but you know what he will say."
"Yeah, that he's not a hero," Patrick chuckled. Jim just nodded. "Where's Jake? You normally pick him up before me."
"He is spending a few hours with one of his classmates, Chase Dubois. He'll be home before supper."
"That's cool. I can use that time to finish my paper. When it's done, can you read it and let me know what you think?"
"I'll like that. I'm sure Papa would like to read it, too."
Patrick smiled, "You two can read it together, or you could just read it out loud.
When they got home, Patrick went to his room and worked on his paper. When he was happy with it, he took it down for Jim and Zac to read. Zac whistled, "You really have a good opinion of what a true hero is, and I love that you respect the men in the military the way you do."
"Papa, they chose to serve so we can have the freedoms we have. Even when there was a draft, they chose to accept going instead of being draft dodging traitorous cowards. They deserve our respect."
"Draft dodging traitorous cowards, eh?" Jim was surprised to hear Patrick use that phrase but considered it to be highly accurate.
"Yeah, in American History class we are currently talking about our involvement in the Vietnam War. Mr. Hole said that he chose to join the Navy during the War, but there were several people who fled to Canada to avoid going. He was on a destroyer, I think."
"Did he call them draft dodging traitorous cowards?" Zac asked. "If he did, I agree with him, but I hope none of the other students get him into trouble."
"He called them draft dodgers, but Scott said that also made them traitors. He didn't actually call them that; he just agreed with Scott. Then Michelle said they were cowards and our whole class agreed."
"Sounds like you have a smart class, and I don't see how Mr. Hole can get in trouble. That makes me happy."
"Did you know that Mr. Hole has a fake leg?" Patrick questioned. "He doesn't like talking about it, but he said he lost his left leg in some place called the Gulf of Tonkin."
"So, after reading your opinion of what makes a hero, I am guessing that you think Mr. Hole is one."
"I not only think it, I know it, but like Uncle Chris, he said he was no hero, he was just doing what he thought was right, serving our country as he was needed. Until we started talking about Vietnam, I just thought he was a rather smart old guy, but now I respect him even more."
"As you should," Zac grinned. "All those who chose or choose to serve in the military deserve our respect. So, isn't Mr. Hole old enough to retire? I mean, if he served during Vietnam, he must be…"
"He turned seventy-three in July," Patrick finished. "And he said that he could retire but enjoys sharing our history with anyone willing to learn. You can tell, Mr. Hole really loves America."
"I think the next time I see Mr. Hole, I should buy him lunch as a way of saying 'thank you,'" Jim suggested.
Friday was going to be the first game of the season. Coach Leffell was working the boys extra hard. Patrick was the first-string quarterback and going to start the game. Scott, much to Patrick's chagrin, was the starting center. After Patrick called hike, Scott sent him the ball. Coach had called a passing play, so Patrick picked his wide receiver and tossed the ball. No sooner had it left his hands and he felt someone hit him hard.
Once Jenson Douglas got off Patrick, he held his hand out to help him up. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard, I'm sorry. Are you alright?"
"No, I'm half left," Patrick chuckled as he reached to take Jenson's hand. Then he groaned.
Coach Leffell came over, "Are you alright?"
"I don't think so, Patrick groaned as he shook his head slowly.
The medic was called over. He examined Patrick and spoke confidently, "Well, you do not have a concussion, but I believe you may have broken your wrist. We need to send you to the hospital to be thoroughly examined."
"Does this mean I won't get to play tomorrow?" Patrick was almost in tears.
Coach Leffell was honest, "With a broken wrist, you may not get to play all season. This kind of injury takes time to heal."
"I am really sorry," now Jenson looked as if he were about to cry, "I really didn't mean to hit you that hard."
"I know," Patrick winced. "It was just an accident. I knew the risks when I started playing. It's not your fault. At least it was my left wrist and I'm right-handed," Patrick sighed.
Jim, Zac, Scott and Jake were in the waiting room when a doctor escorted Patrick out. His left arm was in a cast and he had on a sling. "How are you feeling, Bud?"
"Depressed, mostly," Patrick lamented. "I will be in a cast for eight weeks. That's almost the entire football season. And that's not even the worst part. How can I work on the ranch with one hand?"
"Bud, we knew something like this was a possibility," Zac commented. "As for the ranch, we can figure something out.
"Are you his brothers?" the doctor asked.
"No," Jim responded, "we adopted Patrick after he lost his parents."
"Sorry about the confusion," the doctor apologized, "it's just that you aren't much older than him, yet I could tell by how you acted, you were family."
"That's understandable," Zac smiled.
"Here is a prescription for Vicodin. Have him take two tablets as needed, but at least six hours apart. No more than eight tablets in any twenty-four-hour period. If he can take less, that would be better. Keep an eye on his breathing; if it becomes depressed or shallow, or he just has trouble breathing, bring him back here immediately." Then looking at Patrick, the doctor added, "I want to see you in two weeks."
"Yes, Sir," Patrick replied.
As the doctor walked away, Scott inquired, "Can I be Patrick's other arm, at least on the weekends?"
"If your parents allow it," Zac agreed. "Unfortunately, you are too young to place on the payroll."
At school, all the kids wanted to sign Patrick's cast, especially Jenson. In American History class, Mr. Hole announced, "Class, this year we are having an essay contest. Normally such a contest would be announced in your Language Arts class, but since the theme is 'What it means to me to be an American,' this class is honored to sponsor it for this school."
"How many schools will be entering?" Scott inquired.
"There are only two schools with a seventh grade in Cody, so it will be us and the Another Chance Boys School, and I don't know if they have anyone in that age group. The winner will get one thousand dollars in a trust fund they can't touch until they are old enough to go to college, and their school will receive an old car for their Auto Mechanics class to restore."
One student asked, "Does the money have to go to college? I mean, I plan to go, but what if whoever wins doesn't?"
"That is a good question," Mr. Hole declared. "The winner can use the money for whatever they want, but they can’t touch it until they are eighteen, or enter college if they enter earlier. Also, the winner's entry will be entered in a state-wide competition, and whoever wins there will go national. The national winner will have the honor of reading their essay to the nation via television and radio. And each step will have prizes."
"Will the winner get to go to Washington, DC, to read their essay?" Patrick asked.
Mr. Hole grinned, "That is another good question. If it were up to me, that would be part of the prize, but no, the student will read from their school's auditorium."
Patrick couldn't wait to tell his dads about the essay, and while he wanted to write a winning essay, he also hoped Lenny at the Boys Home beat him. Lenny was the only boy at the Home who was in the age group, and he knew Lenny needed the money more than him, plus the school could use the car for Grampa Vince to teach them how to restore it.
Jim was sitting in the truck when Jim asked, "How's school?"
"I think everyone that could, signed my cast," Patrick chuckled. "Then, in American History, Mr. Hole told us to write essays on what it means to us to be Americans. The essays will be in a contest to see who wrote the best one in Cody."
Patrick went on to explain the contest in detail, and Jim asked if he planned to win. "I plan to do my best, and the only way I hope I don't win is if Lenny does. I think it would mean so much more to him and the Boys Home, but at the same time, if he doesn't win, I don't want to come in second, or worse."
"I'm glad you plan to do your best, but I like your attitude concerning the Home," Jim averred. "With that in mind, I wouldn't be upset if Lenny won, but know that to me, you are already a winner. Even if you write the worst paper turned in, if you've done your best, you won."
"Kinda hard to win if you write the worst paper," Patrick chuckled, "but I know what you mean. You like my attitude and are proud of me for doing my best."
"Exactly," Jim grinned, "now, let's get home so you can tell Papa about it. I bet you a hug that he'll say almost the same thing I said."
"Almost word for word," Patrick agreed. "I already know you're going to win, so I concede and owe you a hug." Patrick gave Jim the hug before Jim started his truck. And they were not wrong about Zac.
Joe was having a meeting with Leonard Ulysses Simpson Tyler, or Lenny to some and LUST to others. Lenny thought maybe he was in trouble because he ran from the shower to his room with nothing on. Some of the boys commented that he truly was someone to lust after, but no one made a comment that he might be in trouble. "Did I do something wrong, Sir?" Lenny asked.
"Not to my knowledge," Joe confirmed. "Did you do anything that might have gotten you into trouble?"
"Only thing I can think of is running from the shower to my room naked, but I had seen others do it," Lenny confessed.
Joe assured, "Unless you are told there is a female in the dorm, that's no big deal."
"Then, nothing I can think of," Lenny replied, "so, why am I here?"
"As you know, this is the Home's first school year, and we've been invited to participate in a city event for seventh graders. Since you are the only boy in the age group, I am hoping you would write an essay to enter."
Lenny looked shocked, "Me? I would be honored. What's the subject about?"
"What it means to me to be an American," Joe answered. "I know your grandparents on your mom's side came to America as refugees, so I believe you may have a better understanding on the subject than most. Your grandparents have offered to come here so you can get references from their perspective, but they ask that you not tell your dad since he's such a homophobe."
"Well, I am not even talking to my dad right now, haven't since he brought me here, so that's an easy promise."
"Yeah, I bet that's one birthday you won't forget. You didn't even get any cake, so Maurice made one for you."
"Yeah, my twelfth birthday, July 21, 2016, Mom made sea bass for my birthday supper, and while we ate, I told my family that I was gay. Dad grabbed me and locked me in my room until August the first, when he threw me into the car and brought me here without saying a word."
"But your mom and brother have been here," Joe reminded him.
Lenny smiled, "Yeah, Mom told me that as long as I was happy, she didn't care who I loved. Ashton is four years older than me, but he said that I am still the same younger brother I have always been, but now I can be true to myself."
Joe finished giving all the details to Lenny, and Lenny looked eager to do his best.
Patrick had his laptop sitting on the table while he researched different aspects of being American. His intention was to read what different things occurred throughout American History and to use the areas that made him proud to be an American. The more he read, the more one era of American history bothered him… the Vietnam War. It wasn't so much that the war bothered him but reading about those who ran to Canada to dodge the draft, how the American people treated the soldiers when they returned, and what Jane Fonda did while the war was going on. Patrick thought, she should have been treated as the traitor she was. He vowed that he would never watch anything she was in or on.
Jim saw tears running down Patrick's face, so he asked, "What's wrong, Bud?"
"Well, I've been researching American History, and most of it is good, makes me proud of my country, but when I got to the Vietnam War, most of those who didn't go fight treated them wrong," Patrick cried. "Those that took their duty serious and either accepted the draft, or enlisted on their own are heroes, Dad. They never should have been treated like they were. Some were spat on, called baby killers, or just scorned. It's just not right."
"So, I have also read," Jim agreed, "And it also made me mad. But then around 1982, they did start getting treated better, and a Vietnam Veterans Memorial was created."
"Yeah, but in my mind, that seems too little too late," Patrick declared. "Dad, I heard a rumor that if Donald Trump gets elected, he wants to declare March 29, the anniversary of when we pulled out of the war, as Vietnam Veterans Day. Whether he gets elected or not, I think we should do something for these heroes."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Well, I was thinking we should celebrate like we do for any other holiday, except, anyone we know that served during Vietnam would get free riding. If necessary, I will pay for their riding that day."
"Patrick, as much as I love your idea, I can't let you pay for it," Jim emphasized.
Patrick was stern, "You said I can do whatever I want with my money. I want to do this, Dad."
"I know you do, and I think it would be a good cause, but I am thinking we present your idea to Papa, Uncle Joe and Uncle Chris, except let the ranch eat that cost. I think your idea is great, but I don't think you should cover the cost yourself."
"Thanks, Dad," Patrick hugged Jim. "I still feel like we can do more, that they deserve more."
"And I am proud of you," Jim sniffled as he held on to Patrick. "Everyone keeps saying I have a big heart, but I think yours has surpassed mine. I couldn't be any prouder of you than I am."
"I'm proud of you, too, Dad," Patrick declared. "I can understand why neither you nor Papa enlisted. I mean, having two sons would make it difficult, but I also see how much you love this country by different things you do."
"Yeah, Papa and I are talking about joining the reserves, but are not sure how easy it would be if we both did. We are thinking that if one of us joined next Summer, and the other did the following Summer, it wouldn't be too hard. We might rely on you more during that time."
"I would help out as much as I can," Patrick offered, "I mean this would be for my country. And if you don't have a problem with it, I want to enlist after I graduate, then take college when I get out."
"I can tell you right now, neither Papa nor I will have a problem with that. We will support you one hundred percent."
"I know, but hearing you say it means so much." Patrick was grinning widely.
Scott had spent the night but slept in the guest bedroom because he was afraid of hurting Patrick's arm, or upsetting Patrick if Patrick hurt him with his cast. Scott wanted to sleep with Patrick but thought this was best.
This morning, Scott went in to wake Patrick up. He sat on the right side of the bed, leaned down and kissed Patrick on the lips, slipping his tongue in. When they parted, Patrick, not having opened his eyes yet, commented, "Morning, Scott, at least I hope you are Scott. Otherwise there are two people who kiss like him."
"No, I am Jake." Patrick quickly opened his eyes to see his brother on his bed, straddling him. Then the little boy added, "But Scott kissed you."
"Let me guess," Patrick sighed, "my boyfriend asked you to come with him so he could play a trick?"
"Uh huh," Jake smiled. "He also pointed out that your name was Pa trick. Did you enjoy it?"
"It means that I owe you a tickle when I can do it with both hands," Patrick gave Jake his best evil grin. "And I will have to figure out a trick on Scott for when he least expects it."
"Can I help?" Jake inquired.
"Probably," Patrick looked at Scott, "but he may tickle you if you do."
"I like being tickled for fun," Jake announced.
Jim and Patrick were sitting in an office, waiting for the doctor to come in. Patrick's wrist was no longer in the cast. A technician removed it and x-rayed the wrist. He gave Patrick the old cast since it had so many signatures on it. Instead of a cast, there was a splint with an ace bandage wrapped around his wrist and lower arm. Patrick figured this was only until they could put a new cast on.
The doctor came in shaking his head. "I don't believe the results of the x-ray. Are you sure you are the same boy I saw two weeks ago?"
"I am," Patrick confirmed," what do the results say?"
"Looking at your x-ray, I see no signs of any injury. There isn't even a hairline fracture, or any indications that you had an injury that healed. How many Vicodin did you take?"
"Dad had me take two when we got home," Patrick assured, "but then I went out to the horses and Gold signaled that he wanted a hug. After he hugged me, I hadn't felt any pain at all."
"How does a horse hug?" the doctor was curious.
Jim explained, "They put their head over your shoulder and pull you in tight. We usually put our arms around the horse to let them know we love them too."
"That explains one thing for me…" the doctor admitted. "I was looking for a horse to buy and I saw this beautiful Chestnut at Another Chance Rescue. I didn't realize how close I had gotten to him until he put his head over my shoulder. I felt compelled to hug him and adopt him. I haven't regretted it yet. He's always hugging me like that."
"You must have been the one who adopted Rick, short for Rikijar, which means hugger," Jim replied. "He was a chestnut, but I was told that he found the person who was willing to hug back, other than the Ranch or Rescue employees. The boys at the Home miss his hugs but are happy that he found someone."
"Yes, his name is Rick, but I may have to start calling him Rikijar since I know his true name. I originally went to get a horse to help combat depression after my wife died. I feel as if he sensed that and loves me like she did."
"Some horses do have a good sense of what someone needs, especially their owners."
Patrick piped up, "If there is no sign of an injury, does that mean I can play football again?"
"No," the doctor shook his head. "We know there was an injury, but we don't know why it isn't showing up. I still don't want you playing football as a safety precaution."
Patrick was a little disappointed but understood. He decided that his football career was over, after all, it almost cost him the ability to do what he really loved. "What about working on our ranch?"
"I can allow that," the doctor agreed, "but take things slow, and work your way back to what you were doing. If your wrist starts to hurt, let your dad know. If you don't, you may injure it to a point where you won't be able to use it."
"We don't want that," Patrick assured, "I promise, Dad will know if it starts bothering me."
"Good," the doctor commented. "Unless you have any issues, I don't need to see you again, but I am writing you a note for your Phys Ed class."
In second period, Mr. Hole had asked everyone to read their essay. He asked for those that wanted their essay to be in the contest to read first. Patrick, Scott and one other student raised their hands. Patrick read his paper first, and after he was done, Mr. Hole looked at him, "I am glad that I am not one of the judges. With how you commented about Vietnam Vets, I would be biased. America is a great nation. Sure, we have our share of issues, but I still believe in America and what made her great. We stand up when we are needed, World War I, World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan and anywhere else. That was why we were in Vietnam, and I am proud to have served my country when the call came out. Your paper tells how I feel, and I am proud of the work you put into it."
"Mr. Hole?" Patrick whispered, "Dad, Papa, my uncles and I talked. We want to do a Vietnam Veterans Day at the ranch on the anniversary of when we pulled out. There is talk amongst the politicians of making that Vietnam Veterans Day, and we would be honored if you could be our special guest."
"While you are my student, I don't know if I can accept," Mr. Hole wiped his eyes. He wanted to say yes but wasn't sure of the ethics.
"Would it help if I said, my schooling has nothing to do with the offer?" Patrick asked, "I mean, I am already getting an A, and whether you accept or not, it wouldn't change how hard I work in your class. And should I slack, I would hope that you give me the grade I deserve, but my dads and I want to honor you and all Vietnam Vets that day. We want to thank you for your service."
Mr. Hole smiled, "If you are inviting all Vietnam Vets, I see no reason to say no, but remember, this will have no effect on your grade."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Sir," Patrick grinned.
Scott was the next to read his paper.
I hope you enjoy the story and that it draws you in, wanting more. If you have any suggestions or concerns, don't hesitate to email me. Thoughts and suggestions are always welcomed and may or may not be implemented. Concerns will be considered and addressed as much as possible.
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