Time seemed to stand still. Mary was in shock at the revelation. That was a polite way of saying that she damn near had a heart attack at the news. I had waited until we turned in before I spoke to our children's mother. I was sure Tracy knew something wasn't right, but she went to her bed non-the-less. I couldn't tell what Alan was thinking, but I know he was hurting. The following morning the kids were up well before any of us adults, which said a lot about the effect it was having, at least on Alan.
The following day, I went into work whether I wanted to or not. Being Friday, we had the staff meeting, which was normal being the end of the week. The usual agenda, financing and work in general. Later that afternoon, our auditor decided to pay us a surprise visit. I know they have to visit on the spot, but it would be nice if it was more convenient. Because of that and the meeting, I got home later than usual.
We sat down to dinner with nothing being said. I'd left my son to his own devices. If anything was to be said any further, it would have to be because he wanted to talk about it. After we'd eaten, I went into my study to do some paperwork. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. When I looked up, Alan was standing next to the half open door. "Come in, Son." I looked at him, his face was drawn. I asked him to close the door, then I went over to pick him up. Closeness was something right now he needed. It felt like I was holding twice his weight when he put his head on my shoulder. There were no tears, just silence.
"Tell me why you didn't want to be alone with Dr. Philips? He's here to help you." His reaction to the name Dr. Philips being mentioned was frightening. I sat on one of the chairs and put him on my lap. There was a shameful look on his face, It looked like he was about to say something, then nothing. . . silence. "Son, I know it was hard for you to tell me what happened to you, but the hardest part was talking about it. Now you can stand up to it, do you understand?" Bad things happen to good people, but why does it always have to be this kid? My son.
"His voice! He was the one that told me to shut up, and I think he was the one that hit me." His lips quivered.
I don't know if I understood what he had said and blocked it out, or I didn't understand what he was saying. "Who told you to shut-up? Who hit you?"
"Him! The doctor.... Dr. Philips.... Him!" I stared at him. Well stared through him.
"Dr. Philips told you to shut up? In the park?" He gave a nod. "Are you sure?" The look was heartfelt. "I'm sorry, Son, but I had to ask." I kissed him and held him as tight as I could. "If you're right, he'll never get anywhere near you again, I promise you, Son. I believe what you say, Son, but I can't accuse him of something because you recognised his voice. You understand?" He gave a nod and I kissed the top of his head.
I sat on the couch for awhile. I thought about ringing Gordon and Dr. Roland, but thought better of it. I mean they could be in-collusion. I went to the desk, picked up the phone and rang Bill instead. I hung up. I didn't even know if my friend was a partner with the other two. I was caught between a rock and a hard place. I really didn't know who to trust. I couldn't ring the police, a blind child hearing a voice and him being an eminent psychologist, that was a no-no.
I picked up the phone again. "May I speak to Stuart Barnes, please. Would you tell him it's Jeff Owen?"
"Will you hold, Mr. Owen? Thank you." It felt like I'd been put on hold for hours.
Stuart Barnes is a detective agency we used on a regular basis for cases that needed a snoop, and Stuart was a good one. Originally, he came to me with marriage problems. It was the usual scenario, my practise, me in particular, was his lawyer. He and his wife had a prenuptial agreement with a few clauses, one being adultery. So as things stood, a divorce was going to be easy. Unh, unh. It almost seemed done and dusted, but as we all know, nothing is ever that simple. So, with a suit that lasted nearly 18 months, Stuart finally got his freedom, the kids and everything, but a tiny apartment in Toronto.
She did get the little rat Chihuahua. To Stuart, it was the ultimate surprise. Even with the prenuptial, he came away with more than he'd expected. As they say, he was well in pocket. I had made a friend overnight.
"Mr. Owen... sorry... Jeff, nice to hear from you. So what can I do for you?"
"I need you to do what you're good at, snooping!" I told him about two of the most loveable children you would ever meet, and how lucky I was to adopt them. "Partly, they're the reason I'm ringing. I need you to find anything you can on a Dr. Jonathan Philips. Where he lives, what time he goes bed, even how many times he takes a leak at night." Not realising the anger in my voice, Stuart was getting both barrels.
"Whoa! Slow down. Whatever he's done, it must be really bad to get you so riled."
"Sorry, but this guy has done the worst thing I know. Hurting kids... literally." I told him the sordid details about what had happened in the park, and Alan saying he'd recognised his voice as being one of them. "You know about a blind persons hearing, right? Well I believe him."
"Okay, Jeff, that's good enough for me."
This is personal, Stuart, I mean really personal, so put it on my account, not the practise. Pull out every resource you have, my friend. I want this Dr. Philips locked up. This was rape, a sexual act against a minor. They say you can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family. Well I did, and now this man has, has...." I couldn't get the final words out.
"I'm on it now. It'll be expensive though."
"I don't care. I want this guy."
"Tell you what, this one's on me. I've got kids of my own."
"Thanks, Stuart." With that, I hung up.
Alan was sitting, silently listening to all that was being said. "You okay, Son?"
"You're not ashamed of me?"
"Why would I be ashamed of you? You were brave. That took guts to tell someone what was done to you." I walked over to him, grabbed him in a tight hug and said, "I love you, Son."
"I love you too, Dad."
"You want to go see what's for supper?" He nodded. Then the silly question. "You are hungry, aren't you?" Yes, I know. I sent him into the kitchen to ask about supper while I went into the living room and gave my daughter a long overdue hug, which she returned with interest. "I've neglected my little girl? I'm sorry angel." The answer to that was a sloppy kiss on the cheek, with a rib crushing hug. From behind, Mary wrapped her arms around my waist and gave me another sloppy kiss on the other cheek. I made a sour face, shook my head, and wiped my cheek, that got Tracy to giggling. But when I wiped the cheek that she'd kissed, she complained.
"Dad." she said, punching my shoulder, then shook her head and giggled again. There is no finer sound in the universe that can match the laughter of a child.
"I told you, you were lucky to get me." That earned me another punch, and a "You were lucky to get us." Which was true, but that's my little secret.
The weekend was a blast. Tracy did what kids do, but with a difference, she didn't chase the ducks. She just stood looking at them and feeding them. I would have probably turned tail and run if they tried to get near me. Alan was in thought, speaking when spoken to, but little else. I was concerned, but not enough to worry. The boy regularly went into no talking phases and within himself until he came to an agreement. I would speak to him at night and do the only thing you can, assure them you are there if needed, and always will be.
Monday, we had another strange case, as seemed to be the norm these days. An upset widow brought her husband's last will and testament in, he'd left the vast majority of his estate to his Scotch Terriers. Not strange you think, but he'd also deemed that his wife vacate the main house and live in one of the smaller houses on the land, so the housekeeper could live in residence and give full attention to the mutts. What's the world coming to?
Middle of the week, Stuart rang my private number. "Got some news on our psychology friend."
"Go ahead."
"Well, the good doctor was removed from campus at UCLA for 'acts against women'. Apparently, the students were having a beach party when our good doctor slipped Rohypnol, the date rape drug, in a few of the students' drinks. He was charged, but later all charges were dropped. He was quickly dispatched from UCLA. Also, our good doctor Philips had been suspected of molestation of a 12 year old boy during one of his sessions, and more they thought, but they couldn't get the evidence. The man is a deviant, up to now I can't find anything that would prompt an investigation. All I can say is he'll slip up eventually. I'll keep looking, but don't be starting any lawsuits yet. Okay?"
It wasn't the news I wanted to hear. I left the office in thought. I again was on the receiving end of an all out attack as I walked through the front door. I'll check for any breakages later. "Hello, angel, how has your day been?"
"We did maths and some geography. Alan's smart, he got all his questions right." There will probably be a few more broken ribs after I got another crunching hug. "I love you, Dad."
"Well, if the rest of me is okay, it loves you too?" Which got a look. Alan was sitting at the table looking like he was adding something up. I walked over, saying, "My son didn't want to greet me? It's not fair." He turned around with a look as to say "What's he talking about?" It seems that my two little ones had already mastered all they needed to know in the expressions department.
After dinner, I went into my study for the dreaded paperwork. Mary brought tea, which was a welcome relief, and asked about another psychologist. I said that for the time being, at least, we wouldn't contact another one until he had a chance to calm down from his last experience. Mary just hugged my neck. "I love you," was the words spoken through a kiss on the lips. I held her tighter to reinforce the point.
October came and went. November went at a trot. December at a snails pace. No, it was a nightmare. We took the kids Christmas shopping. If you ever think being without sight is a handicap, forget it. Talk about letting a kid loose in a toffee shop.
We all helped Alan pick gifts for everyone. He doesn't do cheap. I know, because I was paying. He bought me an iPhone, saying I could relax and get some decent music. For Mary, he bought a boxed cutlery set... with some prompting. Tracy got the special present, a Michael Williams T-shirt, wrapped up and put in a box. She loved Michael Williams, but I think she expected more. When she came over to hug her brother, Alan asked to see it, which surprised her. She held the t-shirt up in front of him, then she noticed something fall away from it. I thought her face had been blown up with helium. The surprise was as much on Alan as Tracy. We had bought them both the same concert tickets.
"Will you be coming with us, Dad?"
"Well, yes and no. You will have a chaperone meet you at the theatre, while me and your mother go to a restaurant for dinner, then we'll pick you up afterwards." They couldn't hide their disappointment. "You silly sausage, course we're coming with you."
"That's another one, Dad, I'm going to collect. Be prepared to die," then she jumped on me, catching me off balance. Then the traitor my son ganged up on me. If that wasn't bad enough, my dear wife joined in.
"Hey, not fair." They just sat on me laughing and giggling.
The really sincere and serious part of Christmas, if you can call it that, was when Alan put the angel on top of the tree. The giggles were infectious. Tracy grabbed her brother spinning him around in a jig. He got so giddy, he spun into everything that wasn't nailed down. Which got more giggles. But we now had the two main ingredients for Christmas, a family, and the whole reason we have Christmas, children.
After Christmas can be the worst time, especially for us guys. Forget about the weight you've got to lose, imagine the bank balance you'll lose... lost. Mary is probably the example for thousands of women, Canada wide, the annual after Christmas sales shopper. Now, there's a mouthful. Well, let me tell you, Vancouver is no bed of roses. It's like trying to walk through a mud pile with only one leg. Trying to get two kids around a busy arcade, mall, and shops was a nightmare. The kids started to get antsy, so I volunteered to take them for something to eat. Phew. I told Mary that me and the kids would be at the art gallery, then left. I took the kids to Triple O's for burgers and drinks. I should have bought them normal burgers, they ate two kids meals and two shakes. Where do they put it? "So, you two, what do you want to do for the New Year?" Which got me a shrug of the shoulders. Okay. Walking back to meet Mary I saw the poster. Party here, Robson Square. Great. Problem solved.
As we got to the art gallery, Mary was just walking up. Well, if you can call it walking with both hands full of bags filled with this and that. I could feel my bank balance smoking.
On the way back home, I told everyone about the party on Robson Square, any takers? Silly question. Especially, after I told them what they could do.
Dinner was on the early side... 5 o'clock. On the square they had all types of entertainment, especially for the kids. Sorcerers, witches, and a magician's show that the kids loved. I was not as happy when it came to the stilt walking. The more they fell, the more they loved it. They were having an early countdown for New Years Eve, 8 p.m. The kids managed to stay awake just long enough to watch the fireworks go off.
Well, we've got over Christmas, and the New Years. Now, only Birthdays to look forward to!