Westpoint Tales
by Kiwi
Jon & Bobby's Tale - 12
Jon had a constant stream of visitors. Even people he'd never met before came in bearing gifts and good wishes. After a few days, hospital staff, noticing that he was getting tired, began to limit the visitors. - only three at a time, no-one to stay longer than 30 minutes and nobody at all after 7pm and before 7am.
The rules didn't apply to Billy and Bobby though. They were there constantly; before and after school and usually again in the evenings. They never made him tired. He always delighted in their company, was pleased to see them arrive and sorry to see them go
There was one person who never came to see him. Claire Lyons never set foot in the hospital. It wasn't that she disliked the kid. He was weird but pleasant enough, and polite, but she had huge problems with her sons' relationship with him.
They were obsessed with him and she didn't like it. If they had to be gay, and it seemed that they were, why couldn't they both get partners? Two onto one was never going to work. Someone was going to get hurt.
Her husband did not agree. "He's a nice kid, Claire. I see him every day and I see him suffering through pain that would have most people bitchy and grumpy, but he never is. He's just a thoroughly nice person.
If our sons are gay then they are going to be involved in relationships with others. They could do a lot worse than Jon. They are good for him, they've made him want to live, and he's good for them too."
"Okay, that's a good thing if they've helped him that much, but how has he been good for them?"
"How? Lots of ways. For a start they've learned to care for someone outside of their own intense relationship. And, look at them! When have they ever been more alive, or busy or popular? The kid's been good for them. If you're worried about sex, forget it. There's absolutely nothing they can do with him all trussed up like he is."
"But that's not going to last forever."
"No, it's not. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Jon is a virgin, he's never had sex with anyone. He told me that and I believe him. The same can not be said for our sons."
"What do you mean? They're not virgins? Who have they had sex with?"
"With each other of course, and it's been going on for a long time."
"With each other? They wouldn't, would they? Well I'm putting a stop to that! One of them can move back into the spare room."
"No Claire. Don't. Leave them alone. They're not hurting anyone and they really do love each other. Short of sending one of them to live on the other side of the world, I don't see how you could keep them apart anyway. Just leave it. I wish I'd never told you now. I've known about it for years. No-one's any the worse off and it's not like they're going to have a baby."
"I suppose you're right, but . . "
"But nothing. Just leave it. Look, if you're really concerned about them, talk to someone who knows what it's like. Talk to your brother and Jay. Talk to Superboy."
"Enough! You know very well that I don't talk to Justin Reynolds."
"I really think it's time that you did. How can you let this go on forever? You used to be really close. Hell Claire, you even named our first two kids after Justin and Billy."
"Drop it, Bill. It's not going to happen."
Once again, they agreed to disagree and let the matter drop. ('And she wonders where her sons got their stubborn streak from?')
Some days later, Dr. Lyons was sitting relaxing in the cafeteria when his sons came in looking for him.
"Hey."
"Dad." (Their usual two-pronged greeting).
"Hi Billy, Hello Bobby. What can I do for you?"
"For us? Nothing."
"We wanted to ask you about Jon."
"Yeah, when can he go home?"
"He's getting bored and he doesn't get enough rest. There's too many visitors in here."
"So, when can he?"
"Well, Boys. I don't know. We've been thinking about that. We would have discharged him by now, but he really doesn't have a home to go to. That dreadful old Beachhouse is totally unsuitable for someone in his condition. It is still going to be a long time before he can get up and down the stairs there, and there is no-one to look after him there.
Sherry and Jacquie have offered to have him in their ground-floor apartment, but that's still 3 steps up from the street and they're busy ladies. Actually a few people, quite a few, have offered to take him home, but he won't go and I don't blame him. He says that he can't have strangers looking after him and doing all the things that need to be done."
"We want to take him home with us."
"We're not strangers. We are the nearest thing that Jon's got to family around here."
"We're the nearest thing that he's got anywhere. The spare room is ground-floor and easy access for wheelchairs and stuff."
"And we don't mind cleaning up his shitty bum, Dad. We'll do that if we have to. So, can we take him home with us?"
"Please?"
"Well, Boys." Dr. Lyons looked from one serious face to the other. He was actually feeling really proud of his sons right then. "That's a possibility, I suppose. What does Jon think about this?"
"Jon doesn't know."
"We haven't discussed it with him yet."
"We thought we'd better ask you first. You're his doctor."
"And it is your house, not ours."
"It's actually your mother's house, not mine, but I'm fine with it. If you really want to do this, I think it's a good idea - as long as Jon and your mother both agree."
"Great! Thanks Dad. We'll go and talk to Mum then."
"No. I think that it will be better if I'm the one who talks to your mother. You boys go and talk to Jon and see what he thinks. And, Boys, there'll be no shitty bums to clean up. Jon has got a bag on and a catheter, for the urine, so the worst you'll have to do is to empty the bags."
"Oh. Good! We can handle that. No problems."
"Thanks, Dad. When are you going to talk to Mum?"
"I'll see her later, when I go home for lunch."
"Cool. Thanks. We really want to do this."
"We don't think that Mum likes Jon very much."
"Jon doesn't think so either."
"He doesn't? You can tell him that he's wrong. It's nothing personal, she doesn't dislike him. Your mum has got some issues to work through, that's all."
"She'd better work on them then. Jon is part of our lives now and he's going to be for a long, long time."
"Longer than that - forever."
"Longer than forever."
"Thanks, Dad. We'll see you at lunchtime."
They left and Dr. Lyons sat thinking about his sons. Gay or not, they were fine young men. He was really proud of his boys, but - well, kids today! He was never as sure, or as outspoken, when he was their age.
Surprisingly, Claire agreed that Jon could come and stay in their house. She was not completely happy about it, but she could see that he needed somewhere, and she didn't want to be a monster in her boys' eyes, so she agreed.
But, she had some conditions. His care would be completely up to Billy and Bobby. She used to be a nurse but she was not now. They would have to feed him and clean him and do everything that needed to be done. Secondly, the boys would eat their meals with the family, in the kitchen, as usual, and, thirdly, as soon as he was able to climb the stairs, Jon was to go back to the Beachhouse.
Billy and Bobby agreed readily enough, though they were not so happy about the third condition. Jon was. He appreciated their offer and he did need somewhere to stay, but, as soon as he could, he was going home to his own room.
Before he left the hospital, Jon's chest-to-toes cast was reduced so that his feet were free at last. It was also cut down to his waist so that he could at least lie in a semi-upright, prone position. This would make life easier for him. He could feed himself and sit/lie in a wheelchair, so at least some of his confinement was over.
The boys said that they would take him out everyday, as long as it wasn't raining.
It was arranged that a visiting nurse would call on him every morning, to check on him and clean him up. A physiotherapist would also call regularly.
Billy and Bobby, under supervision, lifted their friend out of the hospital bed and transferred him into the big wheelchair. Then, together, they rolled him out of the hospital. The entire staff on duty came out to say goodbye. There were several smiling warnings that they didn't want to see him around there again.
They rolled a delighted boy out into the sunshine and took him home. It took a while to get up Williamson Road, past the school. Even though it was Saturday, the school's sports-fields were full and a small crowd came running over to say hello and congratulations. Finally, Billy just kept him moving.
"We're going home!"
As they went along the road, between the town and the estuary, there seemed to be more that the usual number of seagulls around. A couple of the birds landed on the road ahead of them, flying away when they approached.
Billy and Bobby were aware of the seagulls around them these days. In their small seaside town, beside the beach and between two rivers, there were always gulls in sight somewhere. Open spaces, like sports-fields, were always full of them when there were no people around.
Then it happened. Something fell from the sky and shattered wetly on the road beside them. And another. And another. Snails - the big water-snails that covered the mud-flats of the estuary, were raining down and shattering around them. Seagulls, dozens of seagulls, were dropping them.
"Wow!"
"Damm!"
Billy and Bobby were both flinching and ducking as the shells rained around them.
Jon laughed. "Settle down, Guys. They're not going to hit you. If they wanted to they would have hit you the first time and every time. Seagulls never miss. This is how they open shellfish. They fly up high and drop them. They can drop something and land it on a single stone on a sandy beach. They never miss."
"What are they doing this for then?" Billy asked.
"I think they're celebrating - kind of like dropping flowers around us," Bobby said.
"Yeah, you're probably right. They're probably saying, "Welcome back."" Jon replied.
"I wish they'd cut it out. It's dammed dangerous and it's disgusting! What a waste of shellfish."
"It's not dangerous, Billy, they don't miss. They're not shellfish, just snails, and they're not wasting them. Look back, they're eating them after we pass."
"It's a celebration feast!" Bobby agreed.
"Maybe. I'm not eating any though," said Billy. "Yuck! Let's go home."
Mrs. Lyons looked out the window and saw them coming around the corner - two happy, excited boys bringing their broken friend home in his wheelchair. She was still not happy about this, but, whatever, she'd agreed to it now. She hoped that they realised what they'd got themselves into. The kid was going to be a lot of work and she was not helping. She didn't want anything to do with the strange boy.
After they had got him settled in bed in the spare room, Mrs. Lyons looked in to say hello. Well, you have to at least be pleasant. He was already asleep and the boys sat, one on each side of the bed.
She still found it hard to believe that this skinny looking kid had killed a dirty-great shark with his bare hands. Almost his bare hands. The boys saw her looking at them and they got up and came out, closing the door behind them.
"Hey."
"Mum."
"Everything all right, Boys?"
"Everything's great. Jon's just tired. We'll let him sleep for a while."
"Jon's always tired. It's the medication that they've got him on, it makes him sleepy."
"Yeah, but he needs the painkillers. Dad said that he'd be climbing the walls without them."
"He'll get a lot more rest here than in that busy hospital."
"Anyway, it's great to have him here, at last. Don't worry, Mum, you won't have to do anything, we're going to look after him.
Mrs. Lyons' head bobbed side to side as they spoke their sentences in quick succession, but she was used to that. "Just remember, his care is entirely up to you. This was your idea and I'm not helping you."
"It's cool, Mum. We want to look after him."
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