It seemed like it took forever before the day of his adoption arrived, mainly because each day Cody would ask me how much longer it was going to be before he was really my son. It was kind of like a kid on a trip repeatedly asking, “Are we there yet?” I knew it was only because he was anxious for it to happen, so I couldn’t get annoyed or upset with him. However, I would definitely be relieved when it was official.
The afternoon of the ceremony, I picked Cody up after school, along with some of my other sons. The rest the boys were driven to the courthouse by my high school driver, since no one wanted to miss welcoming his newest brother into the fold. Jake also had taken time off from work to attend and Steve, Mary and Sally were there too.
The judge looked very serious and conducted the ceremony in a very formal manner. He took time to question both Cody and I in his chambers first, before he agreed to do it. When we went back into the courtroom, the judge made the official announcement and then handed Cody the documents making it legal. It was almost as if he had just handed Cody a check for a billion dollars. Cody took the papers and raced around the courtroom, so he could show them to all of his brothers and Uncle Steve. He wanted everyone to know he was now a Currie.
I think the judge was amused watching Cody do this. A slight grin split his otherwise stern countenance and his eyes sparkled as his gaze followed Cody from person to person. I also saw him give Steve a nod and a wink when they made eye contact, so I concluded he was as pleased by Cody’s response as the rest of us were.
Once Cody had worked out his excitement, I took everyone out to celebrate, as was our custom. However, even I was surprised when we arrived home later. Unbeknownst to me, Sally, Mary and Steve had hung a banner from our porch before they came to the courthouse. It read, “Welcome to the family, Cody Currie.”
Cody was even more thrilled about this and asked if he’d be able to keep the banner forever. I told him he could and then he and some of the others raced into the house, while I went to collect the mail. I glanced at the various letters I’d received, as I walked up the driveway, and then I noticed one return address in particular. It was another letter from the Genelex Corporation.
I wasn’t expecting to hear from them at this time, so it gave me an eerie and foreboding feeling. Without waiting to get inside, I ripped open the envelope. I hoped this letter would give me more positive information, similar to their last correspondence, which revealed the pimp was not Cody’s father. I began to read it excitedly.
“The samples you provided were run through the Genelex testing procedures and it has been determined that there is 0% chance that donor A is the father of donor B. These results were verified, using a secondary testing procedure.”
It was the same standard form letter they used for all paternity cases, but this time it wasn’t the information I wanted to see. How could this guy not be Cody’s father? Cody’s mother had only left two names and now we’ve discovered neither of these men had turned out to be biologically connected to her son. This was a major setback and it also meant there was probably no way we’d be able to locate a blood-relative who could donate cells to him. I couldn’t help but wonder what we were going to do next?
I went into the house and told Jake I had to run a quick errand, but I didn’t reveal the contents of the letter to him, not yet. I grabbed a set of keys, hopped in the Grand Am and took off. I raced down to Cody’s oncologist’s office, to see what he might suggest we do next. I told the receptionist I urgently needed to talk to the doctor, so she asked me to have a seat, until the doctor was available. That took about twenty minutes – twenty minutes of pure agony for me. Finally, I was led back to his office, but I was like a horse in the starting gate, while waiting for him to join me.
“What’s the emergency, Josh?” the doctor asked, as he entered the room. “Is something wrong with Cody?” I was somewhat startled by the sound of his voice, as I had been lost deep in thought and hadn’t heard him enter the room. I turned toward him now and responded.
“No, but I’ve received the paternity test results back in the mail,” I informed him, “and neither guy turned out to be Cody’s father. What are we going to do next?”
He looked at me thoughtfully. “That is a setback,” he confirmed, “but it’s not the end of the world. We will just check the results of your family’s tests and then go from there. We still have them and the Donor registry to fall back on.”
I nodded and then thanked him, but my mind was spinning. I really wished he had better news for me than that.
When I got home, I went to find Cody and took him aside, so I could explain everything to him. I began by telling him that neither of the men his mother had named were his father, but he couldn’t understand how that could be.
“My mom said it had to be one of them, didn’t she?” he asked. “How could she have been wrong? She had to know who my father was, didn’t she?”
At this point, I began to think Cody wasn’t completely aware of all the details concerning his mother’s past. That was probably just as well and might spare him the pain he would feel if he learned his mother was a prostitute. Now I had to think quickly, to keep this illusion in place.
“People can make mistakes or forget things over time,” I suggested. “They might also tell people something they’re not sure about, just to make them feel better. I’m not sure if your mother did any of these things, but obviously the information she left you was flawed in some way. She probably didn’t mean to mislead you and she may have truly believed it herself. Anyway, we have to deal with the truth, as we know it now. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah, sure,” he agreed. “I’ve gone this long without knowing who my father is, so I guess it really isn’t that big of a deal any more. Besides, I’ve got you for my dad now, so I don’t need anyone else.”
At this point he looked up at me and gave me his special grin. It showed a mixture of love and appreciation, which touched me deeply. I’m not sure if you can possibly realize how it made me feel, but that’s why I pulled him against my chest and hugged him as hard as I dared.
“I’m glad you feel this way,” I told him, “because you’re definitely loved here. I want you to know that every one of your brothers has been tested, to see if he is a match. They all want to be able to donate cells to you and I think that’s pretty special in itself. However, I also want you to know, it was completely each boy’s idea to be included and no one was forced into doing this. There was no pressure put on them and they had the option to say no, but they didn’t. They wanted to do it for you, because they love you as a brother. Jake and I love you too and we’ve also been tested.”
Cody began to tear up. “What’s wrong?” I asked, confused. He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“It’s just that I’ve never had people who would do so much for me before,” he confessed. “It’s just so different here and I’m so happy. I know you love me and everyone else does too, so sometimes when I think about it, it just makes me cry.” He paused for a second, before he continued. “That doesn’t make me a wuss, does it?”
“Heck, no!” I exclaimed. “It just makes you human – and a very sensitive and caring human too.” He looked relieved after hearing my response.
Once I felt he was ready to continue, we talked about his situation a bit longer. We discussed many things, beginning with his medical problems, before moving on to the rest of our family. I also went over the types of things that might happen in the future, so he would be prepared. Cody was very attentive and remained quite calm, no matter how serious the situation seemed, and I was quite impressed by his level of maturity and how he accepted his lot in life. He was truly one of a kind.
I had been busily working in my office for most of the day when my secretary told me I had a call from one of the teachers. She asked me if I wished to take it or if I wanted her to take a message, so I could return the call later. I told her I could spare a few minutes, so I picked up the receiver and said ‘hello.’
“Mr. Currie, this is Ann Baxter,” the voice on the other end stated. “I’m the art teacher at the middle school.”
“Hello, Ann. It’s nice to hear from you,” I replied. “What may I do for you?”
“I have something to bring to your attention. It’s school related,” she added, “but it also affects you personally. That’s why I wanted to speak to you in person first.”
“Now that you’ve piqued my curiosity,” I responded, “what is this about?”
“It’s about some artwork I’d like to enter in an area competition,” she continued, “and my question concerns a particular piece done by your son, Andrew.”
I was caught off guard by this comment, because Andrew hadn’t said anything about submitting his artwork to be judged. “I’m surprised to learn this,” I admitted, because Andrew hasn’t mentioned anything about it. Not only that, but I can’t imagine what the problem is.”
“Andrew has completed two pictures that I feel are worthy of being entered,” she told me. “The first is a watercolor of what I assume to be your home and the area around it. However, it’s the other one that I felt I must speak to you about. After mentioning my intentions to Andrew and discussing this with him, I realized I needed your express permission before acting.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not following what you’re getting at,” I confessed.
“I apologize, but I’ll get to the point now,” she stated. “The second work Andrew completed is a charcoal sketch of one of his brothers, but he told me he didn’t think it would be a good idea to send this one in. In fact, he insisted I only enter the first picture, but not the portrait. He wouldn’t explain his reaction, so I thought I’d call you to discuss this. I was curious if you had any insight into why he might not want the second picture entered too.”
By now I was even more puzzled than before. “Do you know which boy the portrait is of?” I asked her, hoping the information might shed some light on the matter.
“Yes, he said it was of his brother, Cody,” she explained, and suddenly the pieces of this puzzle began to fall into place.
“I think I understand what the problem is,” I began. “Cody is ill. He has leukemia. I think Andrew might be concerned about Cody’s feelings, especially with everything else he is going through at this point.”
“I’m so sorry to hear this,” she told me. “Please accept my sincerest apology for intruding and my wishes that he gets better soon. In light of this information, I won’t submit that piece.”
“I’m not saying you can’t enter it and I’m glad you brought this to my attention,” I countered. “If I could have the time to talk this over with Andrew and Cody, which I’ll do tonight at home, then I’ll call you back tomorrow, to let you know what we’ve decided.”
“I’d really appreciate that,” she responded, “because I truly believe it’s the better of the two pieces. I’m just sorry this comes at such a bad time and you have to take time out of your busy schedule to address this. In fact, you don’t need to notify me personally. You can just have Andrew advise me what you’re willing to do. I won’t be turning anything over to the committee for three more days, but I did want to speak with you about this first. I really think the portrait has a chance of being awarded a major prize.”
“That’s nice to know and I’m really glad you called me,” I told her. “I want to thank you again for bringing this to my attention and I’ll talk it over with both boys this evening. One of us will let you know our decision, as soon as we are able.”
After hanging up, I thought about our conversation for a few more minutes. I had realized prior to this call that Andrew had some artistic talent, since I’d seen other things he had drawn. I knew he had some ability, but I didn’t realize his work was that good. Once again, I thought I was just being a proud parent making more of a son’s accomplishments than was his due. Was it possible I had another extremely talented son?
Thinking back, I even remember seeing Andrew studying Cody, although at the time I thought it was merely curiosity about Cody and his disease. Now, with the use of hindsight, I can conclude he was using the time to studying Cody’s features, so he could draw this portrait. Even though I now understood what he’d been up to, it didn’t tell me why Andrew had selected Cody as his model, instead of one of the other boys. I guess I might discover his reasons later, after I’ve had an opportunity to speak with him about this matter.
Before dinner, I had an opportunity to pull Andrew aside and filled him in concerning what I already knew. After hearing what I had to say, he looked surprised that his teacher had called to tell me about his decision. I think he probably felt that once he told her not to enter the portrait, it would be the end of his problem. Carefully I tried to dig beneath the surface, to see what was up.
“Your teacher said the likeness was of one of your brothers,” I told him. "Would you mind sharing which one?”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t look at me directly. “It’s Cody,” he said, dryly.
“Ah, and why did you happen to choose him?” I wondered.
He looked toward his feet at this point, which I took to mean that he didn’t want to answer my question. I thought I might need to reassure him, before he answered.
“Andrew, I’m not going to be upset or anything like that,” I stated. “I just want to know why you chose to draw a picture of Cody. That’s all.”
“But the reason might make you mad,” he admitted, in a frightened and concerned tone.
“No, it won’t,” I responded. “I just was curious to learn why you chose Cody. I’m sure you had a good reason and I just want to know what it was.”
He didn’t respond immediately and I could tell he was thinking about what he should do. Finally, he relented and told me. “It’s because Cody’s sick,” he blurted out, succinctly.
“Okay, I think I’m beginning to see now,” I confessed. “You chose him because of his illness, and I can understand that, but was there any other reason?”
“Kind of,” he hedged, but his head was still hanging down. I couldn’t figure out why he was being so guarded with his answers.
“And what else made you decide to use Cody as your model?” I pressed, but once again he hesitated. Seeing how nervous he was about explaining this to me, I tried to reassure him a little more. “Andrew, you can be honest with me. You should know that by now.”
“I do,” he agreed, “but even I might get upset, if someone else said this.”
“Well, I won’t get upset, so please tell me,” I urged.
“It’s because if Cody gets worse and his looks change, or if something worse happens to him, I would always be able to remember what he looked like now.” He began to cry when he finished telling me this.
Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hugged him against my chest.
“There’s nothing wrong with that reason, and I think it’s a very good one,” I told him, as delicately and convincingly as I could.
“But it’s like I’m saying Cody’s not going to get better,” he whimpered. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m saying something bad is going to happen to him and I want him to get better, I really do. It’s just that I’m afraid he won’t.”
“That’s okay, Andrew” I said, while squeezing him again. “I think we’re all worried about that and it was a wonderful gesture on your part to draw a picture of him.”
He looked up at me with those big, brown, tear-filled eyes and seeing him in such distress nearly broke my heart. Automatically, I reached out and brushed some of the moisture from his cheeks.
“I just don’t want it to be like it was with Brent,” Andrew continued, before burying his face in my chest. “It’s just that most of the time I can’t remember what Brent looked like,” he continued, but his voice was slightly muffled from being against my shirt, “and I don’t want the same thing to happen with Cody.”
There it was - the final piece of the mystery. Andrew was afraid something bad was going to happen to Cody and he didn’t want to forget him, the way his memory had faded concerning Brent.
“I think that was excellent reasoning and a wonderful idea on your part,” I assured him. “I also think you should let your teacher enter the picture in the art fair, so others can see and appreciate him too.”
He looked up at me and his expression suggested he still didn’t think I was right. “Daddy, don’t you think Cody will figure out why I drew his picture, if it gets entered in the art fair?” he whimpered.
“What if we sit down and explain it to him first,” I offered. “You can tell him you drew a picture of him, so you’d always remember what he looked like now, and we don’t have to say anything more. I don’t think that will upset him or be a problem.”
“Are you sure?” he wondered, still not convinced.
“Yes, I am,” I replied, with as much conviction as I could drum up.
“Will you do this with me… help me tell him, that is?” he pleaded.
“Of course I will,” I agreed. “Do you want me to get him or will you?”
“I’ll go get him, but you wait here,” he told me, nervously. After assuring him I would, Andrew rushed off to find Cody.
Before long he returned, dragging Cody with him. He held Cody’s hand and led him to where I was waiting, so I could help him get through this awkward moment. Cody looked completely confused about what was happening and had no idea why Andrew had brought him to me. Andrew had only told Cody he needed to come with him, before he pulled him to my location. Reading the surprise and concern on his face, I decided to get directly to the point.
“Cody, Andrew drew a picture of you,” I began, “and his art teacher wants to enter it in the area art fair. The problem is Andrew is afraid you might have a problem with him doing that. Would you?”
Cody’s apprehension now turned to surprise. “He drew a picture of me?” he asked, astonished. I nodded my head, and Andrew looked a bit sheepish, as Cody stared at him.
“Wow, that’s really neat!” Cody exclaimed. “And your teacher wants to enter it in the art fair? That’s awesome. Hey, maybe my picture will win you a prize,” he continued, much to Andrew’s surprise and delight. “I know I’m really handsome,” he teased, “so I’ll bet you’ll win first prize.”
Now, the two boys were looking at each other and both were beaming from ear to ear. I thought Andrew’s fears had been laid to rest, until he spoke.
“So you don’t mind?” he asked, to be sure.
“Mind? No way. This is excellent,” Cody shouted. “I might even become famous, like Mona Lisa.” After saying this, Cody hesitated for a second, before adding an afterthought. “And you would too,” he added, almost apologetically for leaving Andrew out. “You drew it, so you’d be the famous artist, and then we’d both be famous. I’d really like to see it, if it’s all right.”
“It’s at school, in the art room,” Andrew explained. “But I’ll show it to you tomorrow, if you want. You can go with me when I tell the teacher she can use it for the art fair.”
“Awesome. I can’t wait,” Cody shot back, excitedly.
Now that everything was out in the open, the two boys took off, side-by-side. Cody was eager to go tell everyone else what Andrew had done and how they were both going to be famous now. I chuckled to myself as I considered how another crisis had been averted. However, this did give me more insight into Andrew, as well, so I’ll make it a point to look for a picture of Brent for him, one that he can keep.
I’ve always understood and taken it for granted that Andrew was a caring and sensitive young man, but I’d forgotten how the same qualities can manifest themselves in other ways. In Andrew’s case, those traits evolved into a deep concern for Cody’s welfare and remorse over forgetting what Brent looked like. I guess I’ll have to stay a little more in tune with his, and everyone else’s, feelings in the future.
The teacher was thrilled when Cody and Andrew showed up to tell her the news and Cody was awestruck when he saw the portrait.
“You did that?” he asked, amazed. “That is totally awesome. Did you have a picture of me when you drew it?”
“No,” Andrew admitted, sheepishly. “I just watched you and then remembered what you looked like.”
“Oh, man,” Cody sighed. “You really are good. It’s like looking in a mirror, except it’s in black and white and doesn’t have any color.” After saying that, Cody giggled.
“I guess I haven’t had much color since I started the chemotherapy,” he continued, while smiling, so Andrew could see he wasn’t upset. “I love it and want to thank you for picking me for this.”
That comment made Andrew’s day and things settled down afterward. Well, not exactly. For the rest of the night and the next day, Cody went around bragging about the portrait and how he was going to make Andrew rich and famous. It was really great to see him so upbeat, even when I knew he wasn’t feeling very well.
While the euphoria was still evident, I heard back from the doctor. He called me at school, to bring me up to date.
“Josh, the lab has sent me the test results,” he began, “and I’m sorry to tell you that neither you or any of the boys is a match with Cody.”
“Damn, I was hoping that at least one of us would be,” I responded, disappointed. “What do we do now?”
“I’m still waiting to hear back from the national registry,” he informed me, “and I expect to get word from them soon. Chances are good they’ll have a match.”
“I certainly hope so, because we’re running out of options,” I commented, stating the obvious.
“Josh, this is not the time to give up hope,” he emphasized. “A donor will turn up. I’m sure of that. In the meantime, just keep positive and try not to let Cody read any disappointment in your expression or demeanor.”
“I’ll try to do my best, Doc,” I agreed, “and thanks for calling. Even though it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, I needed to know the results.”
Now, I had to inform the rest of the family about this news. After thinking about what I was going to say, I called everyone together, so I could do it at one time.
“Boys, I just talked to the doctor,” I began, “and the test results are in. Unfortunately, none of us is a match with Cody.” I saw everyone’s face drop, everyone’s except Cody. He was still flashing us that cute little grin of his.
“That’s okay,” he told us, reading our disappointment. “The doctor will come up with someone, but thanks for trying to help.” Seeing his reaction, I began to wonder if anything would ever get this kid down. Bringing my attention back to the situation at hand, I decided it best to support his position, as strongly as I could.
“Cody’s right about this,” I concurred. “The doctor has already sent Cody’s file to the national registry and we should be hearing back from them shortly. There are many people who have registered with them and I’m sure there will be multiple matches. I suspect they’re probably just trying to make sure which match is the best to use. I expect we’ll get word from them just as soon as they figure out which donor is the closest match. I wouldn’t even be surprised to hear from them at any second.”
Just as I said this, the phone rang.