Sunday morning, Kurt purposefully awakened before the boy. With the wrapped packages under his arm, he tapped at the door to Don's room and opened it.
"Sir?" Don sat up, rubbing sleep heavy eyes.
Kurt sat on the side of the bed looking at him and extended the gifts. "Happy birthday, Don."
Holding the packages and staring at the colorful paper and ribbon, a long held dream stirred, filling him as he fought to keep it suppressed. Looking up into the warm smile he suddenly lost the independence which had sustained him. 'Oh, God,' he cried out inwardly, 'why now when it's too late.'
Kurt was astonished at the sudden tears which threatened to overflow. "What's the matter, Don?"
"I ... I don't deserve any of this. You don't know what I am."
"I know that you have proven yourself a trustworthy, hard working young man who is deserving of a chance to better himself. I only wish I could give you that."
"You did, sir, when you brought me here."
He picked up the smaller package and stared at the colorful paper, his hand stroking it. His voice trembled. "Nobody ever gave me a present before." He stripped the paper away. "The boots! I really wanted them, but they cost so much."
"You need some dress shoes. With care, they'll last you a while."
He opened the larger package more slowly, holding up the jacket in disbelief. "It's too much."
"It gets cool in the evening when the wind is off the ocean, even in summer. I wanted you to have it."
Don began to lift his arms and lean forward but jerked back against the pillow instead, frightened by the urge to hug the man seated beside him, knowing he must not let himself become dependent. Once the work was done he would have to move on. "Thank you, sir," he said gravely.
Kurt sensed the conflict. 'Has this child been so abused that he fears everyone?' He asked himself. He patted Don's thin shoulder. "You're welcome, Don. Will you do me a favor?"
His face brightened. "Anything, sir."
"My name's Kurt. Okay?"
"Yes, sir."
After Kurt left the room, Don sat hunched up in the bed, arms wrapped around his legs, his face pressed against his knees, the tears he'd withheld from Kurt streaming down his face.
He came to the breakfast table dressed in the slacks of the day before.
"No new clothes?"
"I want to save them for something special. If I just sit around in them, I'll mess them up."
"We're invited to the station for dinner. Remember? I think you should dress for that."
Kurt's navy slacks, light blue sport shirt, and gray blazer heightened his tan and the jet lustre of his hair. Don jumped out of the Jeep, waiting. The dark green slacks, sand colored shirt and safari jacket perfectly suited to his coloring. With the sprinkling of freckles across his nose, the stubborn cowlick sticking up, and bright grin, he looked no more than the thirteen Kurt had first judged him to be.
"You look very handsome, Don."
"Thanks to you."
He followed Kurt, looking around with intense curiosity as they entered the station. Kurt knocked on the door of the chief's office and opened it.
"Welcome, Kurt. I thought it was one of the boys. It's good to have you."
"Thanks, Chief. This is Don Warner."
One of the chief's eyebrows raised inquisitively as he acknowledged the introduction. While he and Kurt chatted, Don went over to study a navigational chart of the ocean off the Outer Banks mounted on the wall. Kurt caught a slight break in the flow of the chief's words and looked in the direction of the man's gaze. Don had braced his left arm against the wall the hook clearly visible as he leaned closer to trace a line with his finger. When the station bell began to chime, the chief stood.
"Would you seat Don next to me, please?" Kurt asked.
"Of course." He turned to Don. "Shall we go, son?" He noticed the boy quickly run the hook back into his pocket.
Six of the crew stood at the table waiting. "Men, this is Kurt Lawrence, who's now living in his uncle's house, and Don Warner." The chief passed the introductions around, then indicated that Kurt was to sit at his right with Don next. After a brief grace, they were seated.
Adams smiled across the table at Kurt. "Any more trouble?"
"None, thanks. You're a good doctor. That medicated cream has been useful several times."
The chief carved the large beef roast and passed each plate, then passed the bowl of creamed potatoes to Kurt. "Help yourself."
Kurt placed a heaping spoonful on his plate and turned to pass the bowl to Don. He read the pleading in the boy's eyes and served his plate as well. Don passed the bowl on. Gravy next. A young seaman barely older than Don watched then snickered under his breath as Kurt ladled the gravy over Don's potatoes and meat.
"Harrumph!" The chief cleared his throat menacingly.
Peas, rolls, butter - all passed. When the chief cut the first bite of meat on his plate, the others followed suit. Don nudged Kurt and slid his plate toward him. Taking up Don's knife and fork, Kurt began to cut the thick slice of roast. The young crewman nudged the man seated next to him with his elbow and jerked his head in Kurt's direction, watching with amusement as Don's head went down in embarrassment.
The chief, approving the subtle way in which Kurt helped Don, saw the sudden flush in Don's cheeks and looked to determine the source. "Kendrick." His voice, though soft, carried portents of wrath.
"Sir?"
"When we're dismissed, report to my office."
Conversation lagged, most of the crew curious at the chief's displeasure. The chief and Adams kept casual conversation with Kurt while a petty officer engaged Don's attention by speaking of sailing. When dessert had been finished, they arose at the chief's signal.
"We'll have coffee in my office, Kurt. Would you like to see a working station, son?"
"Yes, sir," Don replied eagerly.
"Then as soon as I have a word with Kendrick he can show you around."
The seaman already stood by the door to the chief's office. He snapped to attention as they approached. The chief followed Kurt and Don into his office and closed the door.
"Son, I want to apologize for my men."
"That's all right, sir. I ought to be used to it by now."
"That ain't the point. I ain't a-goin' to have a guest in my station embarrassed. Can I ask your help?"
"Sir?"
"Kendrick's still such a kid he ain't serious 'bout some things like he ought be. I think mayhap with your help we can impress on him that everything he thinks funny ain't necessarily amusin'. You've already had a hard time in your short life and accepted what had to be. I'm proud of you fer that. Now, will you help me even if what I say may be hurtful to you?"
Don looked directly into the chief's eyes. "It ain't the first time it's happened, sir; it won't be the last." He held the hook up. "I know how this thing must make people feel, 'cause nobody would give me work until Kurt took me in."
The chief glanced at Kurt. "You learned a lot from your uncle, didn't you." Kurt sat in studied silence. When the time seemed right, he would ask.
"Kendrick!" The chief suddenly roared.
The seaman opened the door and walked stiffly to the chief's desk, coming to attention.
"Explain to Warner what you found so amusin' 'bout him at mess."
Kendrick shuffled his feet.
"You're at attention," snapped the chief.
"Ah ... Chief ... well ..." His voice trailed off in embarrassed confusion.
"It's all right, sir." Don said in sympathy.
"Be quiet, son," the chief said kindly, then in a hard voice to the seaman, "I'm still waiting, Kendrick."
"It's just that Mr. Lawrence helped his plate and cut his meat for him, sir." The tone became belligerent. "He looks old enough to do it for himself."
"Don't you get all huffy with me, boy. Hold your arms out!"
Bewildered, the seaman complied.
"What do you see?"
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I mean those two big ungainly things sticking awkwardly out of your sleeves," the chief roared.
"Hands, sir?" Kendrick's eyes fixed fearfully on the chief's face.
"Don, hold yours out, please."
A flicker of amusement curled the seaman's lips until he saw the hook. "Oh, God!"
"Ain't the hook funny, Kendrick?"
"N...n... no, sir," he stammered, eyes wide.
"It ain't funny to nobody else, neither, 'specially this man. But for the grace o' God, that could be you."
"Yes, sir." He looked at Don and dropped his eyes. "I ... I'm sorry. I didn't know."
Don's slow smile appeared. "It's okay."
"Kendrick."
"Sir?" He came to attention once more.
"Show Warner around the station and explain our operation to him." The chief smiled at Don. "I think Kendrick can answer any questions you might have. Go 'long and enjoy yourself."
When they had gone, the chief poured coffee for Kurt and himself. "You think what I said was too rough on the boy?"
"I shouldn't think so. Don's very sensitive just as I am, but both of us are going to have to get over it. Perhaps we can help each other."
They chatted until Don came to the door, pausing to call, "Thanks, Tony. See you."
"What do you think of the station, son?"
"It's great, sir. I wish I could be part of it."
"Kendrick give you a good tour?"
"Yes, sir. He's a neat guy."
"I'm glad you can think well of him, son, 'cause mayhap you helped 'im grow up a mite today."
During the ride home, Kurt said, "I'm sorry about what happened, Don. I wanted you to enjoy your birthday."
"Don't worry about it, Kurt. It's the only birthday I ever had and you made it one I won't ever forget. I had a good time with Tony, too."
The week passed swiftly, Don working in the garden, Kurt helping as he felt inclined. Late one afternoon, Kurt had finished his shower and sat in one of the chairs on the deck relaxing with a drink when Don came out of the house. The boy's astonished expression reminded him that Don had not seen him without the leg before.
"Didn't you know before this?"
Don shook his head. "I saw you limped some, but I didn't think it was anything like that."
"Was that why you didn't want me to touch your arm?"
"I guess. I thought you were just curious, but the way you rubbed that stuff on it, it was like you knew."
"I do. I use that medication when my stump gets chafed and I have to use crutches. I hate that."
"Why?"
"If I use the leg, the lack of flexibility makes the foot sink in if the ground is soft. If I use the crutches, they really dig in and throw me off balance when I try to pull them out. It's a pain either way."
"Gee, I thought it was bad with one hand."
"It's bad either way, but I guess we're stuck with it. Get yourself something to drink if you want."
Kurt found himself arguing with Don over the hours of work he would have put in, forcing the boy to take time for relaxation. As Don did not swim well but seemed to enjoy sailing, Kurt often took him out, teaching him to handle the boat. In the evenings, they read, listened to recordings, or Don looked on as Kurt practiced at the harpsichord, completely at ease with him.
Saturday morning, Kendrick appeared as they were having breakfast on the deck. Don's face lighted. "Hi, Tony."
Kendrick sat down at Kurt's invitation, accepting a mug of coffee and a sweet roll.
"Want to try those knots, Don?"
"Sure. Tony said he'd teach me some seamanship if you don't care, Kurt."
"Not at all. I'm going into the village to pick up a few things but I'll be back by lunchtime. Enjoy yourselves."
Don and Tony raced off toward the boathouse as he picked up the plates and mugs, delighted that Don had found someone near his own age to enjoy.
He shopped and checked the postbox - several magazines and a letter. He flipped the letter over, but there was no return address. Back in the Jeep, he ripped the envelope open.
Kurt,
One more week and I'll be home! The past
couple of weeks have been hell, classes all day
and hitting the books at night. This is a cram
course, no time for anything but work.
The inspection on Saturday was a real bitch.
Believe me, the chief's never pulled one like it.
Seriously, Kurt, you don't know what it's like.
This is the first time I've ever wanted to be
somewhere I wasn't.
I have a surprise for you and the chief. You'll
be proud of me.
See you soon.
Erik
The few lines in Erik's sprawling hand pleased Kurt. How surprised he would be to see the change in the garden. Don! With Erik so possessive of their friendship, how would he react to the boy's presence? He started the Jeep, worry filling his mind as he drove home. The chief had sworn that the change in Erik was a miracle. It would be criminal if the presence of Don caused him to revert. But surely the boy's needs were greater. What if he should have to make a choice between them? In the three weeks Don had been with him, he had come to be almost as vital a part of his life as Erik. Though Erik had some education and a job, that violent streak in his nature could kill him. But Don had nothing, resigned to accepting whatever might come, no matter the hurt. He would have to tell Don about Erik, then wait to see how things developed.
He put the groceries away and opened the kitchen window, hearing the laughter of Don and Tony as he fixed lunch.
"Look, clumsy, it takes two hands to do it right."
"Not if you had enough brains to teach me something."
Kurt looked out to see them wrestling on the beach and laughed at their antics before calling, "Hey, fellows! Lunch."
They raced to the house, Don beating Tony by a few inches. "You're soft," he taunted, punching Tony on the arm.
"Soft, am I!" Tony grabbed for him, but Don sidestepped neatly.
When they had finished their coffee at the deck table, Don refilled Kurt's mug and asked, "Can we take the boat out?"
"Do you know how to sail, Tony?"
"Yes, sir. My dad has a twenty-eight footer. He and I did a lot of sailing before I joined the Guard."
"Have a good time, then."
Kurt sat on the deck with his coffee, watching closely to see that Tony knew proper boat handling technique. Satisfied as the boat diminished in the distance, he returned to the kitchen to place dinner in the oven, then went into the library to practice, concentrating intently on his fingering.
"Kurt?"
"In here, Chief."
"Brought your books back. You seen anything of Kendrick?"
"He and Don are out in the boat. Drink?"
"Don't mind if I do. Let's sit out there."
The tall glass all but disappeared in his hand as he leaned back in the deck chair. "You know, I weren't sure I done the right thing with Kendrick. Fact is, I worried some 'bout the way it might of made the boy feel. Then this morning Kendrick asked me fer the key to your gate. When I asked him why he wanted it, all he said was, 'Don,' and lit out fer here."
"He spent the morning teaching Don to tie knots, but I suspect it was a lot more play than work. Don needs someone near his own age and I think Tony will be fine."
"That's relieves my mind. You have a way of bringing out the best in people, Kurt. Take Lindstrom, fer example."
"I had a note from him today. He said he couldn't wait to get back."
"I hope he's managed to stay out of trouble."
"Said he had."
"Good. I knows he's changed 'round here, but in that school with a crowd, I had my doubts. I know they keep 'em busy, but still ..."
Kurt pointed to a distant sail. "There the boys are."
"It's a damned shame about the boy's hand. Kendrick told me he made him explain everything, 'specially what the life is like."
"He'd love it. He's talked incessantly about the station and the men. They seem to have made a lot of him."
The sails lowered, the boat shoved up on the beach, the boys came running toward the house.
"Hello, sir." Don greeted the chief.
"Anything wrong, sir?" Tony asked.
"Just visiting."
Once Don had replenished Kurt's and the chief's drinks and gotten a Coke for Tony and a Pepsi for himself, they wandered back to the boat.
"Place is beginning to look like it used to, Kurt. Brings back a lot of memories."
"It's mostly because of Don. He isn't afraid to work and do it right. I had a lot of reservations when I picked him up that day. Now I know that if I ever have a son, I wouldn't want him to be any different from Don. There's nothing about him I would change."
"He was hitching?"
Kurt nodded. "Said he was looking for work."
"Kind of young to be away from home, ain't he?"
"He's seventeen. Apparently he's an orphan."
"Shame. He seems like a good respectful boy. If he wants to come to the station agin, he'll be welcome as you."
"Thank you, Chief. He'll be delighted. Right now I've got another worry by the name of Erik."
"I thought you said he was doing all right?"
"He did, but I'm worried over how he'll react to Don's being here."
"A couple of months ago, I'd of said it would be a problem, but I think he'll accept 'im now. It may take a little time, but it ain't like the boy's going to be here that much longer, is he?"
"I don't know. Once he's finished with the work in the yard I suppose he'll want to be moving on. I know he's been here only a short time, but I'll miss him. There's something about him I like. It's a real pity that someone young as he apparently hasn't had much of a life."
"I know what you mean, but even a good seemin' kid like him don't seem to lite anywhere fer long."
Once Don and Tony had stowed the sails in the sail bag and returned the boat to the boathouse, Kurt called them to dinner. They sat around the table - Kendrick's hair disheveled, T-shirt ripped, old white uniform pants streaked with grime; Don in ragged jeans, T-shirt hanging in tatters from his shoulders. After washing up, he put on the prosthesis he'd not worn all day. Though wearing old casual clothing, Kurt and the chief were neatly dressed in comparison.
"Kendrick, I swear you're a disgrace to the Service," growled the chief.
"Yes, sir, but Don's disgusting, too."
Don picked up his knife and fork and began to cut his piece of chicken.
"How does that thing work?" Tony asked, fascinated.
Before the chief could admonish, Don dropped his fork and swiftly caught Tony's T-shirt with the hook, ripping it further. "Like this, you insensitive clod."
"Boys," the chief reproved.
"Sorry, sir." Don released Tony's shirt.
Dinner finished, Kurt and the chief went into the library, leaving Don and Tony to clear away and put the dishes in the washer.
"I think both of them grew up some, Chief," Kurt said as they settled into their chairs.
"Looks like it. It's good to hear 'em laughing from pure pleasure. Kendrick's such a kid most of the men at the station don't have nothin' to do with 'im."
Don spent as much time in the garden as Kurt would allow. Thursday evening, he begged for an hour more. Kurt reluctantly agreed, holding dinner until it became so dark that he knew Don would be unable to work any longer. As he was about to call, Don ambled in.
"What have you been doing all this time?"
"Wait until tomorrow and you can see."
After dinner, Kurt sprawled on the floor with him, teaching him to follow the score of the string quartet playing on the stereo. The phone buzzed.
Don answered and passed the receiver. "The chief."
"Yes, Chief? ... Of course. I'll be happy to ... Right." Kurt replaced the receiver and looked at Don. "I need to talk to you for a minute."
The boy noted the serious tone; his reserve surfacing. "Sir?"
"We have to go to Norfolk tomorrow afternoon. One of the men from the station is coming in and the chief's asked me to pick him up because he and the crew are busy."
"I thought I knew all of 'em." The relief in Don's voice unmistakable.
"You've never met Erik. He left for school a few days before you came. I don't quite know how to put it, Don, but Erik's different from the other guys. He's had a lot of problems which he hasn't been able to face very well. The chief and I have been able to help him, but he's still capable of hurting people without meaning to. He's not a bad fellow, just quick tempered. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want you to take it easy around him until you get to know each other, because he spends most of his off duty time here."
"You mean he lives here?"
Kurt nodded. "He has the room next to yours."
"Oh."
Don finally looked at Kurt, his face forlorn, his voice almost a whisper. "I've finished the work in the yard, Kurt. That's the surprise I had for you. I ... I guess I'll get my stuff together and ride as far as Norfolk with you, if that's okay."
"Do you want to leave?"
The longing in Don's face carried into his voice. "No way. I love it here. But you don't need me now the work's done, and I don't want to cause any trouble between you and your friend."
"Even if the garden didn't grow and need attention, I need you and the strength you give me."
"How do I give you strength?"
"You're learning to be yourself and to accept this." Kurt laid his hand on the end of Don's arm. "I still have to accept what's happened to me. You give me the courage to try."
"I know I ain't been here long, but it's the first time I ever felt like I belonged somewhere. I really want to stay. But if I do," his brow creased in worry, "I gotta tell you somethin'. No, wait," he said as Kurt started to interrupt, "I gotta tell you. If I don't, I can't stay and feel right about it. If you hadn't picked me up that day I ... I don't know what I might of done. I told you I had something to eat the day before. I did, but it was only a couple of buns I swiped. I guess that's why I almost passed out. I hadn't had no money for a while, so I stole whatever I could find to eat. I even tried hustling, but I didn't have no luck. I guess the guys that might of been interested didn't want no cripple." He pulled the switchblade from his pocket and held it out. "If you hadn't given me some work, I was goin' to hurt you. Take it so I won't never do nothing that stupid again, no matter what." As Kurt took the knife, tears welled over in Don's eyes, he held out his arms to Kurt. "I wish I'd had a dad like you."