Christmas Brothers
by Rob Warr
Chapter 1
It was stew night at the orphanage and I hurried to get to the dining hall before it was all gone. We didn't get many treats there, and most of the food was barely edible, but the stew was usually pretty good and was served with a big chunk of buttered cornbread.
I'd been there, at the orphanage all my life, twelve years to be exact. and I knew the place better than even the people who ran it. For over the years the staff had come and gone, with only the Director, Dr. Asher, the one constant there. He'd founded the orphanage way back when he was a middle aged man and had successfully ran it for the last twenty years or so.
Dr. Asher was actually an okay guy in my book. He wasn't mean to us kids and he tried his best to make sure we had everything we needed, but like many institutions that housed unwanted kids, it was a struggle to get funding.
He'd started the orphanage/school with his own money, then discovered just how expensive caring for a couple dozen boys could be and he'd turned to the public and government for help. At first he did pretty well. Times were good and people seemed to have a heart for orphans and gave generously. But when times got hard, donations weren't nearly as good and that's where the government grants came in.
Fortunately Dr. Asher had connections in high places and was able to secure funding from the local and state government. That was enough at least to keep the lights and heat on, to feed and clothe us, but it didn't leave much left over for...what Dr. Asher called, extras. However, the one time of year we did get 'extras' was Christmas.
But back to the stew. My best friend at the orphanage was a redhead named Charlie, he's 11, almost 12, and yet an inch taller than me. He's slim, not skinny, and he doesn't have that pink freckled skin that most gingers have, though his skin is a bit lighter than mine. Is he cute? Well, I'm not the best judge, but I'd say looking at him is pleasant and doesn't make you want to barf, so yeah, he's kinda cute. Heck, most of the kids there are cute when you get right down to it. In fact, the only kid that comes to mind as not being cute is a bully named William, but I think the reason he's not cute is because he's scowling all the time from being just plain mean.
Me and him had it out a few times and I won, so he pretty much steers clear of me now, but I know he picks on some of the younger kids from time to time. Thing is: if I ever catch him, he's gonna wish he'd kept his ham-fingered hands to himself.
I keep wandering, sorry about that, but I'm writing this stuff as it comes to me. Back to the stew for sure this time.
I met up with Charlie at the door to the dining hall and we nudged shoulders and tried to crowd each other out of the way, each of us trying to be first in line. Well, not first, cause there were already four kids in line, but next in line, I mean. Charlie won, but only cause I let him.
"Is that...oh my God it is, pudding for dessert," Charlie said staring ahead at the kid being served at that moment, a ten-year-old named Josh.
"Calm down,'" I laughed, "you'd think you'd never seen puddin' before."
"Can I have yours?" he said then, and I smiled.
"Maybe...we'll see...if I'm full after the stew and cornbread I might give it to ya."
"I'd be your best friend if you did," he pleaded.
"You are my best friend, dummy," I chuckled.
"Oh, yeah," he said giving me a toothy grin. Sometimes he was so silly, but I loved him anyway...like a brother, of course.
Miss Jenkins was dishing out the stew that day, and she gave me and Charlie a smile when it was our turn.
"Hi, boys," hungry?"
"Starved," I said for us both, "mmm, that smells so good. Did you make it Miss Jenkins?"
"I helped," she said as she ladled on an extra large helping to our trays. Sometimes being nice really pays off.
A huge chuck of cornbread with extra butter plopped onto the tray next, then the pudding.
"Put mine on Charlie's tray," I said, and Miss Jenkins smiled, "I'm not supposed to, but since you said it was all right."
"Thank you, ma'am," I said giving her my best smile, "this smells delicious."
We found a seat at a table with only a couple kids there, both too busy eating to even look up. That was fine with me, even though I knew every kid there by name and temperament, I wasn't friends with all of them.
"Thanks for the puddin', puddin' head," Charlie said grinning.
"Shut up, or I'll take it back," I teased.
"Aww, no you wouldn't. Know why? Cause you're a nice guy."
"Please, I'm trying to eat, one of the other boys said sarcastically. You homos go off somewhere else if you're gonna make goo-goo eyes at one another."
Well, so much for having a nice meal. My temper flares way to hot, and way too quick, according to Dr. Asher, and these two were about to get a dose of it. Then suddenly a hand rested on my shoulder and I looked up to see Simon standing there.
Simon was 16, and like me had been at the orphanage his whole life. He'd been dropped off shortly after birth and been raised from infant to teen by the staff and other orphans. When he'd turned 16 he was given the choice of going out on his own or taking a job there and he chose to stay.
Simon's official title was: Monitor, and he basically kept us boys in line. He wasn't paid much, but he did get his own private room and pretty much had run of the place, and unlike us, he was allowed to go places alone, outside the orphanage.
"It's not worth it," Simon said, his blue eyes piercing yet tender as he stared down at me. It was as if he had read my mind and I relaxed at his touch.
"You, Andy," he said then to the boy who'd called us homos, "apologize to Zeke and Charlie, and mean it," he added sternly.
"I'm sorry," the boy said, actually sounding sorry. After all, he'd probably done his share of messing around with other boys and had no room to call anyone a homo.
"Okay, but watch your mouth from now on," I said offering my hand to shake.
He smiled, actually smiled, and shook my hand, and I thought, wow, he's pretty cute. Why haven't I noticed him before?
Charlie, unfazed by any of this, was busily devouring his stew between bites of cornbread, which he was dipping in his double mound of chocolate pudding.
"Gross," I said, when I saw what he was doing.
"No, no...try it," he said pushing his tray closer. I hesitated a moment, then dipped a corner of my cornbread in the brown glob of pudding and sniffed it before bringing it to my mouth.
"Not bad," I conceded, "but I like vanilla better."
"Next time we have vanilla," Charlie said smiling, "it's yours, pal."
After dinner, Charlie and I headed to the common area, which is sort of a rec room, I guess. There were board games and puzzles there and a phonograph with records donated by supporters of the orphanage. Most were classical but there were a few Country-Western and rock, and I liked the rock ones best. If I got there first I usually put on a couple of those and no one seemed to care. If I was too late I'd wait till whatever was playing finished, then take over the phonograph, and again, no one seemed to care.
Did that mean that the other kids respected me, or did it mean they feared me? Hmm, good question. I guess with some kids it could go either way. I liked to think I was a nice guy and I certainly wasn't a bully, but I did have a bit of a rep as a tough guy that you didn't want to mess with if you could help it. That rep actually kept me out of fights, because most bullies were cowards and were afraid of me.
That night I put on a couple 33 1/3 LP albums and turned the volume to a reasonable level, then parked myself on the big overstuffed couch that sat in front of the floor to ceiling fireplace. Someone had built a nice fire and it felt really cozy as I listened to Nat King Cole sing Chances Are.
Charlie was playing chess with a kid named Jimmy, but occasionally he'd look my way and grin. He was such a goof, but I loved him anyway. Oh, there I go again, saying I love him. Well, I do, and not in a homo way.
Simon eventually came in, and he sat down next to me on the couch and sighed.
"Long day?" I asked, knowing just how hard Simon worked.
"Yeah, had to pull two of the kids apart on the playground today. I was afraid they were gonna kill each other. Turned out they were fighting over another boy," he chuckled.
"What do you mean?" I asked, even though I pretty much knew what he meant already.
He looked around as if to make sure no one was in earshot, then continued, "I guess they both had a crush on the same boy, and they decided to fight to see who got him," he chuckled.
"That's crazy," I chuckled, "so...how are they gonna decide now?"
He smiled, "I suggested an alternative solution. I suggested they all three be...uh, friends."
"You mean...? OH, man," I laughed, "what did they say to that?"
"Let's just say, I think they worked something out."
"Whoa, that's cool," I said feeling a little excited at the thought of what the three might be up to at that very moment.
"So...one little fire put out, but tomorrow it will be someone else and something new," he sighed.
"Do you ever wish you'd just gone out on your own?"
"Sometimes, but when I think about being out there all alone in that crazy world with no one to help me settle in, it's scary. No job, no place to live... No, I'm better off here, plus, I'd miss you guys."
"We'd miss you too," I assured him, "you watch out for the kids like no one has ever done. You know it, and I know it. We've both been here forever, and we've seen some shit," I laughed.
"Yeah, but want to know what my favorite thing to see is?"
"Sure, what's that?" I asked, curious as to where this was going.
"When one of the kids gets adopted."
I felt bad for what I was thinking about, but I recovered quickly, "Yeah, that's the best shit ever. Been awhile though," I frowned.
"Yeah, well...Dr. Asher said they are working on getting more kids adopted. They've hooked up with several adoption agencies in the state and they just about have all the details hammered out."
"Fat lot of good it'll do us, we're too old," I frowned, "but if some of the younger ones can find parents, that's great."
"You're not too old," Simon scolded, "you're the perfect age for a second child. A big brother maybe, and you're house-broken," he added with a smile.
"Yeah, dream on," I sighed, "anyway, I'd never leave Charlie, he needs me."
"You two are close, that's for sure. But what if it was Charlie who had a chance to get adopted, would you stand in his way?"
I was stunned for a moment. The thought had never occurred to me before. But it made sense, Charlie was a bit younger, cute and sweet, and who could resist those puppy dog eyes of his?
"I...no, of course not," I said at last, "I'd be happy for him, but sad for me."
"Well, I bet he'd feel the same way, but don't fret over it. No one has offered to adopt your sorry ass yet," he said giving me a playful shove.
"My ass ain't sorry," I giggled, "it's perfect."
"Oh, well...I'll be by the showers later to see for myself," Simon teased, or was he?
"Pervert," I said, but not loudly, I didn't want Simon to get into trouble, cause I knew he was just teasing.
"Takes one to know one," Simon teased back.
We settled down eventually and a triumphant Charlie joined us after slaughtering his opponent at chess. Chess was not my thing, but I liked watching Charlie play, especially when he was killing the other player.
Like I said before, you don't get many treats in an orphanage, but once in a while we got a surprise, and that night we had popcorn cooked over the fire in the fireplace. Dr. Asher himself joined us and supervised the popping, and soon everyone had a big bowl of popcorn and a glass of iced tea or lemonade.
Thanksgiving and Christmas were fast approaching and I figured we'd have more treats and surprises as the days ticked by, but I had no idea just how special one of those treats would be.
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