Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me. This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only.
Authors Notes: This story was first published in Hotshoes 1 February last year, and I just found the file again to post it here. It an early story of mine, and may have some rough spots. I hope you can overlook them and still enjoy the story.
Have you ever met someone and they had an impact on your life, maybe nothing big, but and impact, just the same. Sometimes, you never see that person again, and sometimes you do. Sometimes you see them again, and don't even know it is the same person. That is the idea that inspired this story.
HAVE WE MET
By Susan Bishoff
This Wednesday morning started like the three previous. The weather was hot, and so were the tempers of the two male residents of Gulls-Way estate. That in itself is not unusual. What was unusual was how the arguments were happening. Under normal circumstances the tempers would flare, and there would be peaceful moments until the next argument. But this week, there was no calming the storm brewing within the younger man of the two.
Mark McCormick woke feeling just as tired as when he dropped exhausted into bed the night before. He couldn't explain the anger boiling inside him. He didn't fully understand it himself. Although he didn't mean to lash out at the Judge, he didn't seem to be able to control himself. It seemed that every little thing was setting him off right now.
He knew if he could just talk about why he was so upset, it would help, but he also knew that he couldn't share this problem right now. He didn't fully understand how he was feeling at the moment, so how could anyone else. He knew the Judge would try to understand, but how could he when Mark didn't even understand. So until he could sort it out or figure out how to talk about it, he would have to deal with it on his own.
"I'll just have to try harder to do better today. I need to try and control my temper. There is no reason to take my bad mood out on everyone else. I know they just want to help. But this is my problem - not theirs," he told himself aloud as if to strengthen his resolve to not strike out at the Judge today. He wanted to deal with this and put it behind him as he always had before.
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The Judge had been up for an hour and had already eaten his breakfast. He was now reading his paper, or trying to. What he was really doing was thinking about the curly haired young man in the Gatehouse.
He was used to these explosions of temper occurring between them. They have been happening almost on a daily basis since McCormick had been in residence at Gulls-Way. What he wasn't used to, and couldn't understand was what was causing the arguments. They would start over nothing and only ended with one or both of them walking away. The other thing he could not understand was the lack of attempts to settle the arguments. Prior to this, one or the other would come later and apologize, although clumsily at times, and the argument would be forgotten. Now, there were no ending to the tension. McCormick didn't offer to make peace, opting to stay to himself as much as possible and the Judge had quit trying after the first few attempts resulted in another argument. Nothing seemed to appease the younger man. This situation was just leaving the Judge feeling uneasy and concerned.
The Judge knew that Mark didn't hold grudges and that McCormick didn't like what was happening between the two of them any more that he did. Any attempt by the Judge to broach the subject of what was really bothering the young man resulted in another explosion. Hardcastle knew something was really tearing the kid up, but heaven help him, he had no idea what. All he could hope was that the kid would turn to him when he was ready to open up.
"Wish I knew what was eating at you, kid. You've got to know you can tell me anything," the Judge muttered to himself, deep in thought.
"Do you want more coffee?" Sarah asked, waiting for a response. Realizing that his thoughts were elsewhere, repeated once more, a little louder. "Your Honor, would you like more coffee?"
Realizing that Sarah was talking to him, he started. "Sorry, I was thinking about something. Did you say something?"
"I asked if you wanted more coffee? You're as worried about Mark also, aren't you?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Sarah had watched the relationship develop in the two years since Mark had come to live at Gulls-Way. She knew that they each held a lot of respect and affection for the other. She also knew that they could get into some real arguments, but there was always a teasing quality to them. The arguments that had been occurring over the past few days were worrisome.
"No, just thinking about whether to go wake up McCormick or whether that would result in another eruption from the resident volcano," he retorted, not even fooling himself with his unemotional response.
"Now, Your Honor, you aren't fooling me for a second. I know you are as worried about what is bothering that boy as I am. Don't try denying it. I've seen how you watch him after a fight and brood over his recent mood. Maybe you should talk to him and see if you can get him to tell you what is bothering him." she urged.
"Talk to him. Talk to Him! TALK TO HIM!" he yelled, his voice rising with each word. "That's the whole problem. I can't talk to him. Everything I say he takes the wrong way. I can't even say 'Good morning' without him thinking I have a hidden ulterior motive."
"Now, calm down, sir. Yelling is not going to solve anything," she comforted.
"I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't mean to take my frustration out on you. I just don't know how to talk to the kid anymore," he said sadly.
"Can you think of anything that happened that would have upset him," Sarah asked, helpfully.
"With McCormick it is hard to know how his mind works sometimes. Anything can be a tragedy for him," the Judge replied trying to lighten the mood. Then more seriously he added, "Nothing that I can think of. We had just finished the case we were working on. It got a little close for a minute and could have ended badly, but everything turned out okay. He didn't seem rattled or upset on the way to the police station to give our statements. Nor did he on the ride home. On the way, I told him we would take a break from the cases and he could get caught up on his chores around the house. That isn't anything new, we often do that between cases. He seemed fine when we got home." he explained trying to think if something could have happened or been said to triggered McCormick's recent mood change.
They both thought about that for a few minutes and then the Judge added, "when he came to dinner that evening he was more subdued and didn't say much. When I asked him what was wrong, he got angry and told me it was nothing. I let it go, but that is the first that I noticed him being upset."
"I really don't think you are what is bothering him, Your Honor. I've seen how he looks after you two have had an argument over the past few days. He is as upset by them as you are. I spoke with him yesterday afternoon and he said he wasn't mad at you, but he knew you were worried and wanted to know what was bothering him and he can't explain it. I think that whatever is bothering him has him so upset that he is just lashing out and then regrets it later. I also think he would like to apologize but he can't do that without trying to explain the problem, which he feels he can't," Sarah explained. She added hopefully, "I think that when he is ready to deal with the problem, he'll let you know what has had him so upset."
"I really hope so. I also hope it is soon. This situation can't go on like this for much longer," the Judge responded.
"Your Honor, I was going to visit my sister this weekend, but maybe I should cancel and stay here in case you need me," Sarah offered.
"Nonsense, you go on your trip. You have been looking forward to this visit since you planned it weeks ago," the Judge replied. "It is only for two days and we will be fine. Either that or I'll kill him," he said in his usual gruff manner, then added more gently, "Maybe time alone together is just what we need to solve this problem."
"Okay, if you are sure," she said uncertainly.
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Sarah and Hardcastle turned when they heard footstep approaching the patio from the direction of the Gatehouse. They each remained silent while studying the approaching young man's face to try to determine his mood. Seeing the same somber expression there that had been on his face for the past two days, they decided not to say anything.
Mark sat down at the patio table and started to fill his plate with bacon and eggs. He then buttered his toast and poured a cup of coffee. He ate his breakfast in silence, and the other two parties present also remained quiet.
After he finished eating, he wiped his mouth and placed his napkin on his plate. He turned to Sarah and told her, "Sarah, thanks for breakfast. It was delicious as always."
"Thanks, Mark," Sarah answered. "I'm going to the market to get the weeks groceries. Is there anything special that the two of you need or want me to pick up for you?" she asked.
The Judge replied, "No, nothing that I can think of. What about you, kid? You need any of those special treats you like so well?" the Judge asked.
"Nothing," Mark answered quietly
"Okay, I'll see you two later." Sarah said as she left the two men sitting at the table.
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The two of them remained at the table for several minutes, neither one saying anything. McCormick was concentrating on his coffee cup and the Judge was stealing glances at him from behind his newspaper.
McCormick," the Judge started, "after you finish your coffee, I want you to trim the hedges. Then later,…"
"Later!" the younger man yelled. "How can I do more later? It will take at least all day to do all those hedges if not two." His oath to hold his temper today forgotten.
"Not if you apply yourself and get to work instead of spending half the morning complaining about it. You spend more time complaining about things than any other person I know," the Judge yelled back, all intentions of trying to keep the peace quickly leaving his mind.
"You expect me to slave around here while you sit around and do nothing!" Mark yelled.
"Listen, kiddo, you knew the arrangement when you came here. When not on a case, you are expected to work on the estate," the older man responded, his temper flaring.
"Work -yes, slave - no. You want a week's worth of work in one day," the young man answered equally angered. "Maybe I should have said no."
"And ended up back in jail instead of here where you have another chance to make something better for yourself," the Judge yelled.
"Well, I didn't ask for it and I didn't need your help. I was doing just fine on my own," Mark responded.
The Judge scoffed. "Oh, yeah, you were doing fine all right. You were on your way back to the big house of many doors for an extended stay when I pulled you butt from the fire," the Judge shouted back.
Mark looked as if he was going to respond to that statement, but instead just stood from the table and walked away.
"Just where do you think you are going?" the Judge asked, his anger not quite gone.
"To get to work on the hedges," the young man answered in a very subdued voice as he continued toward the storage shed.
The Judge watched his young friend leave the patio and wondered what had happened to set off that argument. They were just sitting there peacefully and he had started to tell McCormick what he wanted done. They have had arguments over chores before, but there was always a teasing note to the insults. But that had been completely missing from this mornings fight just as had been missing for the past two days.
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That evening, Mark returned to the Gatehouse after taking a walk on the beach. He hadn't finished all the hedges, but he was too upset to worry about the Judge's response to that bit of information. He had avoided the Judge for the rest of the day as he did not want any more arguments to take place. He took a quick shower and then stretched out on the couch.
He pulled the postcard from the book where he had stuck it the other day. He reread it for the hundredth time and then put it back in the book. He sat and thought for several minutes. He wished he could sort out the feelings that the card had stirred up. If he could sort it out and get a grip on them, then maybe he could get his temper back under control. He was so mixed up now that he seemed to get upset at the Judge over nothing. The Judge had nothing to do with it, he was the last person Mark wanted to hurt or take his anger out on.
He laid there in the dark for a few minutes and then decided to go to bed.
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Thursday morning, Mark McCormick arose again determined to not let his temper get the better of him.
Upon arriving at the patio, he discovered it bare. When he approached the table, he found a note from the Judge. Went to town, be back later. Sarah has breakfast for you in the house. Hardcastle.
Mark walked into the kitchen. "Morning, Sarah," he said quietly sitting down at the table and pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"Here is your breakfast. I made one of your favorites, blueberry pancakes," Sarah said placing a large stack in front of him along with the butter and syrup.
"Thanks, Sarah," Mark replied and then dug into his breakfast heartily.
Sarah watched him as he ate and then pulled out the chair next to Mark and sat down. "Mark, do you mind if I ask you a question?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah, I guess," he replied as he set his fork down to give her his attention.
"Mark, I know that something is bothering you. You can tell me what it is if you'd like. I'll listen," he inquired gently.
Mark lowered his eyes and bent his head before replying sadly, "I can't talk about it. I can't explain it. I don't understand what I'm feeling myself."
Sarah reached out and placed a hand under his chin and gently raised his head to look him in the face. "Is it the Judge? Has he said or done something to upset you? You know he does care and you could talk to him about things," she said while maintaining eye contact.
"I know," he responded quietly and then added quickly, "Maybe later. I just need to sort it out. It isn't anything the Judge said or did. It's something I need to sort out before I can talk about it."
"Okay," Sarah responded. Then she rose and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Finish your breakfast so you can get your chores done in case we get that rain the weatherman said may come today."
"Sure, Sarah," came the reply.
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Mark finished his breakfast, and then went to the storage building to get the hedge clippers so he could finish the hedges before cutting the grass. He worked at the hedges and soon had them finished. He then returned the clippers to the shed and got the mower and trimmer to mow the yard.
He was busy mowing down near the gate when he felt the first drops of rain. The rain started coming harder so he decided that he should put the mower and trimmer away and wait out the storm before finishing the yard. He took the mower up first and by the time he reached the shed, he was completely drenched and the rain was coming harder than ever.
Sarah looked out the window to see if she could see Mark. She saw him putting the mower in the storage building. She opened the door and called out to him, "Mark, you need to get out of the rain and out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold."
Mark called back to her, "I never get sick and I still need to put the trimmer away. As soon as I put it away, I'll get changed."
Sarah replied, "Okay, but try to hurry, you're already soaked to the skin and that wind is chilly."
"Okay, Sarah," he answered as he went to get the trimmer.
Mark had just picked up the trimmer and started back toward the storage shed when he saw the Judge pulling into the gate.
"Kid, you had better get out of this rain," the judge called to Mark.
"I will as soon as I put this back in the shed," he answered.
"Make sure you change out of your wet clothes," the Judge warned.
"I'm not a baby, I know how to take care of myself," Mark replied quickly.
The Judge decided to let the comment go to prevent a confrontation.
Mark put the trimmer back in the storage building and went to the Gatehouse. He stripped off his wet clothes and took a hot shower to try to get rid of the chill he got from the rain. He got dressed and then settled down on the couch. He still felt cold so he pulled the throw off the back of the couch. He soon fell into a deep sleep.
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The Judge looked out the window toward the Gatehouse for the twentieth time in the last half hour.
"The rain has stopped so why don't you go over there if you are worried?" Sarah prompted. "I told you what he said this morning. He isn't upset at you."
"I just thought we would see him by now. Supper was an hour ago and McCormick never misses a meal. Besides the lights are off. Maybe he's asleep," the Judge rationalized.
About fifteen minutes later, the front door opened and Mark walked in. He saw them in the den and stopped. "Is there anything left from supper?" he asked. "I fell asleep after my shower and didn't wake up until a few minutes ago. Sorry I wasn't here on time." he went on to explain.
"Sure, come into the kitchen," Sarah said leading the way. Mark followed her into the kitchen and the Judge decided to stay in the den. If McCormick wanted him, he knew where he was.
Sarah fixed him an plate and he ate his meal in silence. When he finished he thanked Sarah and then went to return to the Gatehouse.
The Judge stopped him in the hallway.
"You know if you need to talk about anything, I'm here kiddo," he offered.
Without raising his eyes to meet the Judge's he replied, "I know. I just can't yet. I'm kinda tired, I think I'll go to bed."
The Judge watched as Mark quietly left the house and slowly made his way to the Gatehouse.
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Once back in the Gatehouse, Mark once again dropped onto the couch and pulled the throw back over his legs. He couldn't get rid of that chill from earlier. He once again pulled the postcard from the book and read it again. He knew what it said by heart and didn't know why he kept reading it. It wasn't going to change what it said or meant. He tried to think and see if he could figure it out. But he couldn't sort out his feelings and he kept coming back to the same conclusions.
After laying there for a while, he decided to forget sorting it out and to go to bed. He put the card back in the book and went to bed. Before long he drifted off to sleep.
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The Judge awoke Friday morning early as usual. He decided to get up and start the day. He silently prayed that his one would be more peaceful. He thought to himself "I really hope that whatever is bothering McCormick, that the kid talks about it soon. It is driving me crazy and tearing him apart."
The Judge descended the stairs and found Sarah already up and preparing breakfast in the kitchen.
"Good Morning, Sarah. How are you this morning? Are you all ready for your trip?" the Judge asked cheerfully.
"Good morning, Your Honor. I am well this morning. Yes, I am all packed, but I was thinking that maybe I should not go. I may be needed here," she stated.
"Nonsense. We will be fine. You'll be back on Sunday. It's only for two days. Go and have a good time visiting your sister," the Judge encouraged.
"Okay," she responded. "Sit down and I'll get you your breakfast."
"Thanks, Sarah," he replied taking his place at the table.
The Judge ate his meal and had just finished when Mark entered the kitchen and quietly sat down at the table. He picked up a cup and poured himself some coffee. "I'll just have toast for breakfast, Sarah. I'm not very hungry this morning."
"Are you feeling well? You're not coming down with something, are you?" she asked in concern, placing her hand on his forehead.
Mark pulled his head away quickly and replied, "No, I'm fine, just not hungry. I'll have something later." he reassured her. "What time are you leaving for the airport, Sarah?"
"About 10:00 this morning. I should be back between 3:00 and 4:00 on Sunday," Sarah answered.
"Do you need a ride to the airport today or picked up on Sunday?" Mark offered.
"No, but thanks for the offer. The Judge is giving me a ride to the airport this morning and my friend Stacy is visiting family in San Francisco also. We have been wanting to visit for a while and she is returning to Malibu on Sunday as well. When she found out I would be visiting my sister, she offered a ride back. I accepted since it would give us a chance to talk and get caught up on things," Sarah explained.
"Okay. I'm going to finish mowing the yard, since the grass has dried from the rain we got yesterday," Mark stated, rising from the table.
"Sure," the Judge said in response, speaking for the first time since Mark entered the kitchen. He watched as Mark silently left the kitchen.
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Mark worked on mowing the yard and at 9:45 he decided to go up to the house and see Sarah off.
"You have a great time, Sarah. I'll see you when you get back on Sunday," he told her as he gave her a quick hug goodbye.
"Okay, now you behave yourself, Mark. I'll see you on Sunday," she admonished gently. Then leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek, she whispered, "remember the Judge will listen when you are ready to talk to him."
"I will," he answered and helped her into the truck.
The Judge started the engine and pulled down the driveway onto the PCH.
Sarah waited until they were safely in traffic before speaking. "Your Honor, you may want to keep an eye on Mark. I think he may be coming down with something," she said. Getting no response from the Judge, she continued, "He didn't eat hardly any breakfast and when I felt his forehead this morning, it felt warm. And when I kissed him goodbye on the cheek, his face felt hot."
"Sarah, you worry too much. He has been mowing all morning, of course he would be hot," the judge answered trying to hide the concern he felt as well.
"But he hadn't been mowing or anything when he came to breakfast and he didn't eat anything but toast either," she countered.
"Okay, Sarah, relax. I'll keep an eye on him. Try not to worry and enjoy yourself," he answered chuckling under his breath at Sarah's devotion to the young curly haired man at home. Just like him, she had held herself back from forming any emotional attachments to McCormick. But also like him, she soon found it hard not to like the kid, or maybe even love him.
The rest of the drive was made in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Once they arrived at the airport, the Judge helped Sarah check her luggage and waited with her until her flight was called.
He gave her a last hug and she kissed his cheek and told him quietly. "Give him time. I'm sure it will be okay."
"Yeah," he responded halfheartedly, then added, "have a great trip and we'll see you on Sunday."
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He left the airport after Sarah's flight has departed. On the way home he decided to stop at Mark's favorite pizza shop and pick up a deluxe pizza for lunch. He arrived home to find the lawn finished and Mark sitting by the pool.
"Hey, kiddo, I got pizza for lunch. Come have some before it gets cold," he called to Mark.
"I'm not hungry," Mark replied without moving.
"Are you sure you're not sick. You didn't eat breakfast and now no lunch," the Judge asked approaching the poolside table.
"No, I'm not sick and I did eat breakfast," Mark responded quickly.
"Toast does not qualify as breakfast," the Judge countered as he set the pizza on the table.
"I ate while you were taking Sarah to the airport," Mark lied without looking up, hoping the Judge didn't catch on. He really did not feel well but he didn't want the Judge to worry, especially after the way he had been acting.
"Well, eat a some anyway so I know you ate something and I can tell Sarah that you did if she asks. She will never forgive me if I don't make sure you eat properly since she isn't here to do it," he said gruffly, hiding his concern as best he could.
"Okay. If it will make you happy. We can't have Sarah mad at you, can we," Mark replied in almost his usual sarcastic manner. But the grin that is usually present, was missing from his face. In fact his face was almost completely blank of all emotion. He rose from the table and started for the house.
The Judge let the comment go without responding. He picked up the pizza box and followed Mark into the house. He sat the box on the table as Mark set down plates. The two men ate in silence. Mark barely picking at his, which the Judge did not fail to notice.
Once Mark had finished eating, he rose and put his plate in the sink. He turned and asked, "I'll fix supper tonight. What do you want?"
"Whatever you want to fix," he answered.
"How about meatloaf and mashed potatoes?" Mark suggested.
The Judge answered, "Sounds good to me."
"I'll come in later to fix it. I 'm going for a walk on the beach, unless you need something," Mark told him as he headed for the door.
"No, nothing. Go ahead and take a walk," the Judge told him. He then watched as Mark headed for the path that went down to the beach. He saw and heard Mark sneeze a few times as he crossed the yard and mentally noted that he would watch him a little closer to make sure he wasn't coming down with something.
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A few hours later, the Judge heard sounds coming from the kitchen and realized that McCormick had returned and was fixing dinner. He thought about going in the kitchen to talk to him, but he was afraid of starting another argument. He was hesitating outside the kitchen door when he heard more sneezes and coughing coming from the kitchen.
The Judge entered the kitchen and found Mark putting the meatloaf into the oven. Mark then turned to the counter and started peeling potatoes. The Judge went to the table and sat down. "Are you sure you aren't coming down with something. I heard you sneezing before I came in." he asked.
"No, I got pepper up my nose making the meatloaf is all," Mark answered quietly, not turning around to face the Judge.
He put the potatoes on the stove and turned them on. The two men sat down at the table while the meatloaf and potatoes cooked.
Since the day had been pretty calm, the Judge decided to broach the subject of what was bothering McCormick. "Kiddo, …," he began.
"Listen Judge, I know that the last few days have been rough," Mark interrupted, not even hearing the Judge's words. "It isn't you or anything you've done or said, but I can't explain it because I don't understand it myself. Maybe once I sort it all out, I can talk about it with you. I am sorry for my behavior, and anything I may have said to hurt you or upset you," He finished, rising from the table to return to the stove.
"Listen, Kiddo, as I started to say a minute ago, I'm here if you want or need to talk. Whenever you are ready, I'm here," the Judge replied.
"Thanks," Mark answered, then sneezed several times. "Must still have pepper up my nose." he said to cover for the sneezing. He was starting to feel pretty lousy, but didn't want the Judge to know.
The Judge let him have his cover story for now. He would find out the truth later, anyway.
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Mark finished fixing dinner and put it on the table. The ate quietly. Once he finished eating, Mark rose and took his plate to the counter. The Judge did not fail to notice that he had had not eaten much, but chose not to comment. Yet.
"Listen, you cooked dinner, so I'll do the dishes. You go on into the living room and watch TV. I think there is a game on. We can make popcorn later, and watch the John Wayne feature that is on tonight," the Judge said.
"Okay, I guess. I've got no other plans for tonight," he answered quietly.
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Later that evening, the two men settled down and watched the movie. About halfway through the movie, the Judge asked Mark if he would like some popcorn and held the bowl out to him. Getting no response, he looked over to find him sleeping.
He quietly rose from his chair so as not to wake the sleeping man. He had noticed Mark sneezing and coughing more and more as the evening had progressed. He gently placed his hand on the younger man's forehead and was concerned to feel warmth there. He got a blanket from the hall closet and placed it over him. "That settles it, you're staying in here tonight," he said to himself.
He settled himself back in his chair and watched the rest of the movie, his attention divided between the kid on the couch and the movie.
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The Judge turned off the TV at the end of the movie and moved to wake the young man sleeping on the couch. "Kiddo, wake up. It's time to go to bed."
"Guess I fell asleep, huh?" Mark asked drowsily.
"Yeah, you did. Come on, get up. You're sleeping upstairs tonight," the Judge answered.
"Aw, Judge, what for?" he asked in true McCormick fashion.
"Because I said so," replied the Judge in his typical gruff manner. He then added, "Because you're sick and I want to keep an eye on you." And before Mark could argue, he added, "You've been sneezing and coughing all evening, plus you have a fever."
"I can take care of myself," he replied. "Have been for a long time."
"I know you can, but there is nothing wrong with letting someone else take care of you once in a while," the Judge responded.
"Okay," the young man answered, rising from the chair. "I don't have any pajamas in the house. I'll have to go to the Gatehouse and get them," he stated.
"All right, but be quick about it. You had better come back or I will come out there and get you if I have to," the Judge warned.
"Okay, I'll be right back," he called leaving the house. He returned a few minutes later and followed the Judge up the stairs.
"You can stay in the room across the hall from mine," the Judge informed him. "Get settled and go to sleep. We'll see how you are doing in the morning," the Judge said.
"I'll be fine by morning, Judge. Don't worry," Mark said as he slipped off to sleep.
The Judge smiled as he looked at the sleeping form of his young friend. He then turned and crossed the hallway to his room.
The night passed with the Judge rising each time he heard Mark coughing to be sure he was okay.
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The Judge rose the next morning and went to check on Mark. He felt his forehead and found it warmer than the night before. He also noticed that Marks seemed to be sleeping restlessly.
The Judge went downstairs to make breakfast. While down there he decided to call his friend and doctor, Charlie Friedman to see if he could come take a look at McCormick. Charlie Friedman was a longtime friend and had occasionally made house calls to the estate in the past.
He caught the doctor at home. It was his day off and the Judge hesitated before asking him to come over. "Charlie, it's Milt Hardcastle. How are you and your wife today?"
"Patsy and I are fine," Charlie answered. "I assume you did not call to talk about the weather, so what can I do for you?" he asked.
The Judge chuckled, "Well, yeah, I did have another reason for calling. I wanted to ask if you could come by and check McCormick out. He's sick and I don't know how serious it is. He got soaked the other day in that rain storm we got. And he has been sneezing and coughing since yesterday. He is also a fever," the Judge explained.
"I can come by in about an hour. Milt, don't worry, it's probably nothing serious," his friend reassured him. "See you in an hour."
"Yeah, you're probably right, but I'd just like to know how bad it is, and how bad it could get," the Judge answered. "See you a little later," he said hanging up the phone.
He fixed a tray with juice, coffee and a plate of eggs, bacon and toast." He took the tray upstairs to see if the kid wanted anything to eat.
"Wake up, kid," he prompted gently. Mark roused slowly and raised himself to a sitting position. The Judge set the tray on the bed in front of him. Mark drank the glass of juice and ate a piece of toast.
"I'm done, Judge," Mark said.
"Are you sure? Do you want more toast or juice?" the Judge asked.
"Maybe some more juice," he answered.
"Okay, I'll get you some and by the way, you can stay right there in bed. Doctor Friedman will be here in a little while to take a look at you," the Judge informed him as he got ready to go downstairs to get the juice.
"Okay, I'll stay here," Mark answered quietly, not even putting up a fight. The judge didn't like that at all. The Judge knew that he always complained when anyone made a big deal about him being sick and he always tried to deny that he was ill at all. The Judge exited the room quietly, shutting the door behind him.
Mark was secretly relieved not to have to get up as he felt awful. His head was clogged and hurting severely. He was coughing and sneezing off and on. He didn't want to worry the Judge, but he didn't think he could fool the doctor into thinking he wasn't sick and he really didn't have the energy to try. He thought maybe he could convince the doctor to tell the Judge that it wasn't anything to worry about.
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About an hour later, Dr. Friedman arrived at Gulls-Way and was shown to the room occupied by the young man. Upon entering the room and seeing the pale face of the sleeping man, he could understand the Judge's concern. The younger man was sleeping fitfully and his face was very flushed. The doctor turned and asked the Judge to wait in the hallway.
"Why?" the Judge asked.
"Because you know how Mark is as well as I do. If you are in here he is going to act as if nothing is wrong. If you are in the hall, he may tell me how he is really feeling. Don't worry, I'll tell you everything when I am done," the doctor reassured the worried Judge.
"Okay, you are probably right," he said as he left the room, closing the door as he left.
The doctor gently woke the young man. "Hello, Mark. How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Not so good," he answered quietly.
The doctor took Mark's temperature and asked him about his symptoms. He checked his head and throat. He listened to his lungs and heart. Once he was done he told him, "You have a very bad head cold, Mark. It will take a few days to start feeling better. Stay in bed and get plenty of rest and fluids. You should start feeling better in a few days and then can get up as you feel able."
Mark listened quietly, thinking about what the doctor said. Then he spoke quietly, "Doc, could you do me a favor. You said it was a head cold, which isn't serious, so could you tell the Judge that it isn't serious and I can recover just fine in the Gatehouse. I don't want him to worry." After he finished he was overcome by a coughing fit that lasted a few minutes and left him winded.
"Sorry, young man. I will tell the Judge that it is not extremely serious, but I know him. He is going to insist that you stay here in the house where he can watch over you, which is what I will recommend if he asks where you should recover. Just relax and let him take care of you and you will soon be feeling better," the doctor reassured him.
The doctor exited the room and quietly closed the door. The Judge was waiting in the hall, just where the doctor knew he would be.
"Walk me out and I'll tell you how he is," the doctor said. The two started downstairs and the doctor continued, "He has a bad head cold. He will feel pretty lousy for a few days. His temperature is 103 at the moment. He will probably continue to run a fever for the next day, maybe two. The fever may cause some periods of delusion and he may have nightmares induced by the fever, so don't be overly concerned if he dreams about things that don't make sense to you. Just try to keep him calm and quiet. If he is still running a high fever Monday or not feeling any better, call me and I'll come check him again. If his fever goes higher, bring him into the clinic immediately. Otherwise, just let the cold run it's course. Give him plenty of liquids and have him get plenty of rest. Give him aspirin for the fever and cough syrup for the cough and that should take care of it."
As they reached the door, the doctor informed him, "He doesn't want you to worry, and wanted me to tell you he could recover in the Gatehouse." He chuckled at the look on the Judge's face. "Yeah, I told him that was probably not going to happen."
"Thanks, Charlie, I appreciate your coming out to the house," the Judge said shaking the doctor's hand.
"That's okay, I know how hard it is to get him to come to the office. Let me know if he is not feeling better by Monday. Until then, keep him warm and quiet, give him plenty of liquids and food as tolerated," the doctor said, giving last minute instructions as he went out the door.
The Judge closed the door behind the doctor and went to check on Mark. He found the young man sleeping and decided to go to the den. He would offer him lunch later.
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Mark wasn't happy at first when the Judge told him he would be staying in the house to recover, but he didn't really put up much of an argument, which told the Judge just how bad the kid felt. The rest of the day passed with Mark sleeping most of the time and the Judge bringing him juice every time he found him awake. He brought him soup for lunch, which he ate very little of. Mark's sleep was restless at times, and as evening approached, the Judge was not pleased to find that the it more so.
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Later that evening, after the news, the Judge checked on Mark again and then prepared to go to bed. He had been asleep for a few hours when he was awakened by noises coming from the room across the hall. It took him a few minutes to realize that the young man was calling out to him.
"Judge, Judge, please don't leave me," he heard the young man yell. "Please don't leave me alone, I'm scared."
Running to his bedside, he found Mark thrashing in the bed, gripped by fever induced nightmares.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed and taking Marks's hand, he tried to reassure the young man that he was not alone and that he would not leave him. "I'm here, you're safe. You're going to be okay," he kept repeating to the young man.
After a few minutes, Mark began to calm and settled back to sleep. The Judge waited until he thought that Mark was sleeping peacefully again. He then got up to go back to his room. As soon as he moved, Mark began to get agitated again, so he sat back down and held his hand again.
The Judge sat with Mark for about twenty minutes and he was still sleeping peacefully so he tried to rise to go back to his room to get some sleep. He placed Mark's hand back under the covers and tucked him back in and quietly moved back across the hall to his room. He settled back in bed and quickly fell back to sleep.
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The Judge had been asleep for about an hour when he was once again awakened by yelling from across the hall. He quickly rose and crossed the hall to Mark's room. Mark was sleeping very restlessly and appeared to be having another nightmare.
"Please, I don't want to be left here all alone. I tried to be good, please don't leave me. I'll try harder, I promise," he pleaded. "Judge, where are you? I'm scared, and I can't find you." he continued.
The Judge sat down on the bed once again and took Mark's hand to reassure him that he was there and Mark was not alone. He kept talking to him trying to get a response, and to comfort him as best he could. The Judge was never very good at comforting people. His wife had always taken care of comforting their son when he was upset or sick. The Judge always avoided those situations that required emotional involvement. His wife told him that he held himself too detached, but he said it was necessary for his job. She kept trying to get him to open up more at home, but he was never comfortable dealing with people when they were sick or upset.
They sat that way for several minutes. The Judge just kept repeating the same words over and over and holding Mark's hand. He brushed the damp curls off his forehead and took a cool wet cloth and wiped his forehead and face to remove the sweat there.
"Hang in there, kiddo, you'll be feeling better before you know it," the Judge comforted. "I'm here, relax. I'm not leaving, you can calm down," he reassured him.
For several more minutes, it seemed as if Mark wasn't hearing him or noticing his touch. The Judge continued comforting him in hope that he would calm soon. Then suddenly, after what seemed like forever, Mark jerked upright and threw himself at the Judge, nearly knocking him off the bed. It was all the Judge could do to catch him in his arms and keep him from falling on the floor.
Mark clung to the Judge and the Judge shifted position to make them more comfortable as he continued to comfort the young man. He held him in his arms and rubbed his back as he tried to calm him and ease his fears.
Mark kept murmuring in his sleep, begging the Judge not to leave him and crying as he was gripped by the fever and his fear.
Besides the aspirin he had given Mark for the fever, the Judge could do nothing to ease it, but he could hold his friend and offer words of encouragement. So he held him and told him, "I'm here and I am not going anywhere. Just relax and go back to sleep. I'll stay right here by your side all night."
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As the two men continued to sit in this position, the familiarity of it sent both of their minds and thoughts to another time and place. A time several years in their pasts.
The Judge had just become a judge last year and was attending his first judge's convention. The location of this convention was in the east. His wife had accompanied him on the trip as their son was away at camp. They thought it would make a nice vacation for when he was not in meetings. They were walking along the street in the evening enjoying each others' company.
"Nancy, I can't believe that this convention is in this place. It was supposed to be in Jersey City. But the Convention Chairman is an idiot and books the convention in New Jersey instead of Jersey City," the Judge was telling his wife.
"Now dear, he just made a mistake, he didn't do it on purpose. Besides, Hoboken is not a bad city. It may not be as fancy as Jersey City, but it is still nice. Besides we are together and that was part of the reason for the trip. So we can just relax and make the most of it," his wife replied quietly, quickly silencing his arguments.
They continued walking along the street, looking in shops, and just enjoying each others' company. They had been walking for awhile when Nancy noticed a small boy sitting on the steps to what appeared to be an apartment building.
The boy appeared to be about 5 or 6 and looked so sad and lonely that Nancy Hardcastle, being a loving mother, just couldn't pass the child by without trying to help. "Look, dear, over there on those steps. See that little boy," she asked her husband. "He looks so sad and alone. Maybe there is something we could do for him.," she suggested.
The Judge, being the less sentimental and more practical of the two, reassured his wife, " Nancy, we should probably leave him alone. He'll be fine, I'm sure. Someone will help him if he needs it. Someone who knows him."
"I can't just walk by and pretend I didn't see him there. Just because I don't know him, doesn't mean I can't help him," she pleaded and started over to the small child.
"Nancy, you may not be able to do anything and he may not want help," her husband reasoned. He hoped to spare her from the disappointment of trying to help a child when there would be nothing they could do for him, since they were not from the area.
"Even if all I can do is stand there and talk to him, I have to try," she answered continuing on her way to the boy. The Judge had no choice but to follow her.
When they arrived at the steps, she knelt and sat on the step beside him. He didn't even react to their presence, just sat there with his head in his hands.
"Hello, you look so sad. Is there something my husband or I can do for you. Did you lose something or are you hurt?" Nancy asked.
The little boy turned to look at her, and his large blue eyes were filled with unshed tears. He then looked at the Judge and the tears began to fall. He offered no explanations, just cried silently.
Nancy put her arm around the small boy, and the tears came full force. She offered him comforting words as she would her son when he was upset. She nor her husband knew what was causing the child so much pain, but now that they were there, neither one could just walk away. They had to try and do something to ease his suffering.
The Judge knelt and sat on the other side of the boy. He ruffled his curly hair and talked to him soothingly. He didn't use words, just soothing sounds as he rubbed the child's back in a comforting manner.
The small boy looked up at the Judge, and suddenly asked, "Do you have a little boy?"
"Yes, he is a little older than you," the Judge replied, wondering where the question came from and where it was headed.
"Do you love him?" the boy then asked as his eyes once again filled with tears.
"Yes, my wife and I love him very much," the Judge replied as he watched the tears fall from the small boy's eyes. He reached into his pocket and removed his handkerchief and wiped the tears from his face.
"Now, now, it will be okay," the Judge tried to offer. The next thing he knew, the small child launched himself into the Judge's arms and cried harder. The Judge held him against his chest and let the child cry. His wife reached over and rubbed the small back as sobs wracked his body.
After a few minutes, the sobs quieted and the boy spoke quietly, almost inaudibly, "My daddy don't love me no more. He went away and not comin' back." This started a new wave of tears.
The Judge and his wife did not know what to say to the small heartbroken child so they said nothing. They did the only thing that they could do, hold him and offer what comfort they could.
The child quieted once again and as he quieted he started to fall asleep. As he drifted off to sleep the Judge heard him softly say, "I wish you were my daddy, I know you would not leave me."
The Judge was so shocked by the small child's words that he said nothing, just continued to hold the boy as he slept in his arms. Nancy continued to rub his back comfortingly.
They remained that way for several minutes, neither one speaking or moving for fear of waking the small child.
They were startled when they heard a young woman call out as she ran up to them, ""What are you doing with my baby? You let go of him!"
They watched as she approached and took the sleeping boy from the Judge's arms. She stood and held him to her like a precious treasure, which to her he was.
Nancy looked at the young mother and said, "We were walking by and saw your son sitting alone on these steps. He looked so sad and alone that we couldn't just pass him by. We didn't mean any harm. As a mother I understand how you must feel finding strangers holding your son. But as a mother, I could not pas by a child that was suffering without trying to help."
The young mother shifted her hold on her son to allow her to check look him over and ensure that he was okay. She then looked the couple over and deciding that they were telling the truth, told them, "I appreciate you trying to help him, but I'm not sure anyone can help him feel better right now. I was surprised to find you holding him. He hasn't let anyone but me hold him since his dad left four months ago. Thanks for staying with him. I am sorry I reacted so strongly. He's all I have and I get so worried about him that I sometimes get overprotective."
The couple stood and watched as she turned and carried her young son into the building.
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As the rest of the scene passed through his memory, the Judge was brought back to the present by the feeling of his young friend still in his arms.
"Is this why I picked you out of all of the others? Did I somehow subconsciously know that you were that lost child from so long ago? If so, why did not ever see it before? You still get that lost little boy look sometimes. Maybe that is what drew me to you. Or maybe I just saw the potential that I know is in you. It really doesn't matter what drew us together. What does matter is that we are together, now," the Judge thought as he continued to hold his trembling friend who was still crying softly.
As the young man also returned to the present from the past he thought, "Is that why I felt so comfortable when I first came here? I never felt so at ease anywhere since Mom died, but this felt like home right from the start. I guess that isn't really important, what is important is that he is always here when I need him." He then realized that he was safely held within the arms of his friend. He had never felt as safe as he did at that moment since his mother died. And he knew that he would always be safe as long as the Judge was there to protect him and love him.
The Judge felt the sobs ease in the younger man and looked to see Marks' eyes partially open. Mark's arms tightened their hold on the Judge as the young man closed his eyes to go to sleep. As he drifted off, he spoke softly, "I love you, Judge"
"I love you, kiddo," the Judge replied as he also tightened his hold on Mark.
Then Mark whispered so softly that the Judge almost didn't hear, "I wish you were my dad."
"So do I, son," the Judge replied around the lump in his throat, "So do I."
The Judge then leaned back against the headboard of the bed, holding Mark against him. He covered them both as best he could with one hand and settled back and both men drifted off to sleep. One secure in the knowledge that he would never be alone or abandoned and the other in the knowledge that he was needed. They remained in that position, sleeping peacefully, for the remainder of the night.
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Sarah decided to return early from her trip. She was concerned about Mark and the Judge so she asked her friend if they could come straight home and they would get together next week. Her friend knowing that Sarah was deeply concerned, agreed.
She arrived home to discover them still peacefully sleeping in Mark's room. She quietly walked over and tucked the blanket more securely around them and felt the younger man's forehead. Feeling some warmth, she was pleased that his temperature did not appear to be too high. She quietly exited the room and closed the door behind her.
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A few hours later, the Judge awoke feeling stiff from the awkward position. He noticed the blanket tucked tight around him and the door being closed. He checked his watch. "Sarah must be home early," he thought to himself. He carefully untangled himself from Mark's arms and gently lowered him down in the bed. He then went downstairs.
He found Sarah in the kitchen fixing lunch. "Did you have a nice time? Why are you back early?" he asked as he entered.
She turned, and smiled when she saw him enter. "Yes, it was very nice, but I am glad to be back. I came home early because I was worried about Mark. I take it from his presence in the house, that he did get sick. How is he?"
"Yes, he did get sick. I had the doctor come check him yesterday morning and he said it was a head cold, and that he would feel better in a few days. He had a rough night last night but is doing better this morning. His fever is lower this morning as well," the Judge explained.
I checked on him when I got home. I noticed that he felt cooler than when I left. I made some soup for Mark, if he wants any. Would you like something to eat? I can make you some sandwiches or something else if you would like." she inquired.
"Yes, I am hungry. Sandwiches would be fine. I'll take some soup also if there is any more. I haven't had anything to eat today. We were up most of the night and finally fell asleep early this morning. He may be hungry as well. I can take some soup up to Mark while you fix the sandwiches," the Judge answered.
The Judge took a tray of soup, juice and water up to Mark. He entered the room and sat the tray on the bedside dresser. He gently woke Mark and told him, "Here, you need to eat to regain your strength," he coaxed.
Mark sat up a little straighter and the Judge sat the tray on his lap. He ate some soup and drank the water and juice. He took the aspirin that the Judge offered him. "That's all I want," he said after taking a few more bites of soup. "I'm still tired, I think I'll take a nap."
"Sure, go ahead. You need your rest" the Judge told him as he placed the tray on the dresser to help Mark get comfortable and tuck the covers back around him. He quietly left the room. As he left he decided that he would not mention what he remembered last night. Besides, the kid probably wouldn't remember. It was so long ago and the kid was so young when it happened. He would hold that memory as one he would always treasure.
As the door closed behind the Judge, Mark settled down to go to sleep. Before he dropped off he decided not to mention what he had remembered the night before. It had happened so long ago and the Judge wouldn't remember an short encounter with a small boy that he didn't know. But he could never know how much Mark had needed to be held at that moment. But Mark knew, and remembered, and he would always keep it in his heart.
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The day passed as Mark spent majority getting some much needed sleep. The Judge and Sara took turns taking juice and soup. That night everyone got sleep that they needed as Mark's fever was down and he was sleeping peacefully.
The next morning, as she took some breakfast to him, Sarah came to check on Mark. She found him awake and looking across the room out the window. She came over and sat on the edge of the bed. She placed the tray on his lap.
He ate his breakfast in relative silence. She waited until he was done, and then asked, "How are you feeling this morning?" She tenderly placed her hand against his cheek, and was pleased to find his face cool to the touch. She then took his temperature to be sure, and it was almost back to normal.
He turned to look at her and she saw something in his eyes that puzzled her. The look was not from fever, but it wasn't normal. He looked deeply troubled. "My cold feels better, but I'm still not sure about the other subject we talked about the other day. Could you do me a favor? There is a book in the Gatehouse on the coffee table. Could you get it for me?"
"Maybe you should talk to the Judge. Maybe he can help you," Sarah offered.
"Yeah, maybe. But I need to think a little more, to try and figure out how to tell him, so he will understand," he answered.
"Okay, I'll be back in a few minutes with the book," she told him. She picked up the tray and went back downstairs. She put the tray in the kitchen.
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She went to the den where the Judge was looking at a file. "Mark's temperature is almost normal, this morning. He ate most of his breakfast and seems to be feeling better. He asked me to get a book for him from the Gatehouse, so I am going to get it and take it up to him. I think that he may tell you what has been bothering him later today," she told him.
"Why, did he say something?" the Judge asked.
"When I asked him how he felt, he said better from his cold but still confused on the other issue. I suggested that he talk to you about it and he said he probably would, but he wasn't ready yet. He wants to figure out how to say what it is so you'll understand."
"So I'll understand? All he has to do is tell me what it is," the Judge said, puzzled at the thought that McCormick didn't think the Judge would understand his problem.
"Whatever it is, it is pretty serious to Mark, and you should remember that before you say anything. His feelings are very sensitive right now and your usual manner of dealing with him may hurt those feelings, without meaning to," Sarah cautioned.
"Yeah, I know. He has been very touchy lately. I just want to know what it is so I can help him feel better. No matter what he tells me, it won't change how I feel about him. He is very important to me and I will do whatever I can to help him deal with this," the Judge informed her, his emotions clearly on his face.
"I know, I just wanted you to know that he is close to talking and that he is really worried. Whatever it is, I think he's afraid of what you will think." Sarah stated.
"Well, I'll have to let him know that there is nothing he could say that will change how I feel about him," he said.
"Does he know how you feel? Have you told him?" Sarah asked. "Maybe he needs to hear it from you, to know exactly where he stands."
"He knows. I know that I don't tell him often, but he knows. Just as I know how he feels about me. We don't need to use words, or at least not sentimental ones all the time," the Judge said.
"Well, maybe in this instance, he needs to hear the sentimental words. I think everyone needs to hear them once in a while," she said.
"Yeah, well, maybe. If that is what he needs, then I'll tell him," the Judge reassured her, then added, "He is more than just my friend, Sarah and I can't stand to see him so upset."
"I know, Your Honor, neither can I. Well, I had better go get that book, he is probably waiting for it," Sarah said as she left the den to go to the Gatehouse.
She crossed the yard and entered the Gatehouse. She was amazed at the clutter. "Well, it certainly is lived in," she thought as she walked to the table and picked up the book laying in the center. It was a book about race cars and she wondered what the book had to do with what was bothering him. She took the book and left the Gatehouse. She went back to the main house and walked inside.
"I've got the book. I'm going to take it up to him now," she said as she walked down the hall and started up the stairs. She entered Mark's room and found him asleep once again. She placed the book on the bedside table, where he would be sure to see it when he woke. She then left the room and went back downstairs.
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The Judge and Sarah spent the morning talking about Mark, her trip and other things. They took turns checking on him. His fever was staying down and he was sleeping peacefully most of the morning. When he was awake, he talked about many things, but not the thing that had been bothering him. They decided to not push, they would wait until he was ready.
Sarah then made soup and a sandwich for Mark and took the tray upstairs. When she entered his room, she found him sitting staring at the wall and clutching the book.
"Mark," she sai,d and getting his attention, added, "I brought you some lunch."
Mark put the book aside, and Sarah placed the tray on his lap. Sarah waited while he ate his lunch. He didn't eat all of it, but he did eat most. She noticed that his appetite was beginning to return.
After he finished eating, she took the tray from his lap. "Is there anything else you want or need?" she asked as she got ready to leave the room
"Sarah, could you ask the Judge to come up. I think I am ready to talk to him," he asked, looking away.
"Sure. Mark, don't worry so much about the Judge's response. He won't think harshly about you, no matter what you may think. He'll listen and he'll help you if he can," she comforted.
"Thanks, Sarah. I know. I guess I just needed to be reminded, that's all," he responded as she left to go downstairs.
Sarah went downstairs and walked to the den. "Your Honor, Mark would like to see you."
He rose from the desk and started for the door. "Okay. Is anything wrong," he asked, concern in his voice.
"No. He said he just wants to talk about what has been bothering him," she reassured him.
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The Judge climbed the stairs to the room where his young friend was resting. He felt uncertainty grip his insides as he entered the room. He did not know what Mark was feeling or how he could help his friend feel better.
Mark looked up and saw the Judge waiting at the door. "Judge, please come in. I need to explain what's been going on. Please let me explain, and please don't interrupt. I know you don't like sentimental mush, but I need to explain. I'm not sure I can without getting emotional or saying things that may make you uncomfortable."
The Judge approached the bed and sat in the chair next to the bed. "You have been carrying this for long enough, kiddo. I'm here to listen, so you can say whatever you need to. Then we will deal with it. Okay?"
Mark sighed deeply and started explaining, "Remember when we got back from the police station last week and I picked up the mail when we got home?" At the Judge's nod, he continued, "This was in the mail." He removed the postcard from the book and handed it to Judge.
The Judge glanced at the front and then turned it over to read the words scrawled on the back of the card. "Hey, kid. How's my boy. Bet you're having the time of your life there. I got this really great booking here in Nevada. I do two shows a night. Thanks for the invite for your birthday and sorry I couldn't come. I couldn't get away from the show. You know how it is, the show must go on. You know I would come if I could. Well, there's always next year. Sonny."
"Damn, I should have know that Sonny was involved somehow," the Judge thought. "He always ties the kid in knots, like nothing else does. He doesn't even care or notice that he upsets McCormick so much. He doesn't do anything to try to make the situation any better. Looks out for himself and McCormick and his feelings be damned. The kid asks Sonny to come and gets a no show and no word until now." The Judge came back from his thoughts and handed the card back, finally understanding why the kid felt so bad. "Mark, you know Sonny tries in his own way," the Judge offered weekly.
"Judge, four months later? He sends me an apology four months after my birthday. He sends the card as an afterthought to appease his guilt. Sometimes, I wish he would not even bother. He doesn't mind that he has nothing to do with me," Mark replied sadly, getting more upset as he explained.
The Judge didn't say anything. He just waited for Mark to finish his thoughts, as he knew there was more to it than what Mark had said. The things Mark had told him were nothing new from Sonny's past behavior and Mark was more upset than he has ever been before.
"Judge, I know you said you were not a substitute for my dad and I'm not one for your son, but sometimes what I feel for you is more than friendship. I feel like you are more my dad than my real dad. Then I think that I am being disrespectful to Sonny and to you," Mark explained.
Mark stopped and the Judge realized he didn't quite understand what Mark was saying. He realized that Mark was waiting for the Judge's response and wasn't going to say any more without further prompting. "Kiddo, I'm not sure I understand what you are trying to tell me. How are you being disrespectful to me and Sonny?" the Judge asked gently.
Mark explained, "Sonny is my father and I'm supposed to love him, but I don't. Sometimes, I don't even like him. I try to feel something for him, but often all I feel is contempt. He left me when I was five. I find him and he ditches me again. And every time I try to give him another chance, he lets me down. I don't want to give him any more chances. But that means I'm no better than him. He turned his back on me and now I want to do it to him."
The Judge started to say something, but Mark interrupted. "No wait let me finish, please? I turn to you for things that I should be turning to Sonny. That forces you into the position of father figure to me, when you want nothing to do with that role. What I feel for you is stronger than any friendship I have ever had before. I love you, Judge. I know I can come to you with anything, just like a son to his father," Mark finished with tears in his eyes.
The Judge finally understood the problem. The kid has been tearing himself apart with guilt. Guilt for not loving Sonny and for loving the Judge more than he thought the Judge wanted. He decided that maybe he needed to explain his feelings so Mark could accept his.
The Judge took a deep breath and began, "Mark, your feelings for Sonny are understandable. He has left you and let you down time after time. Mark, you owe him nothing. If you can't give him any more chances, then you have nothing to feel guilty about. You have tried and given him chances, Mark. The next step is his, if he ever chooses to take it. Maybe someday he will be able to keep a promise and do better. But you don't have to hold out waiting for it to happen."
The Judge paused to see if what he was saying was getting through. Mark had his head bowed and he could see the tears falling from his young friend's eyes. He handed him a handkerchief, and waited for him to wipe his eyes and nose. He also waited to see if his young friend was going to respond to what he had said so far. Realizing that Mark was not going to say anything yet, he decided to tell the young man the rest of what he had to say.
"Mark, look at me," the Judge said, then waited until Mark looked up and met his gaze. "As for putting me in the position that I don't want to be, if I did not want you here or you to turn to me when you are in trouble or upset, I would let you know. Yes when we started this agreement, I didn't want to be friends, much less more. But now you are my best friend and sometimes I look at you as a sort of son. That's why when you were sick, I have you stay in here. I want to watch over you when you're sick. And I worry when you're upset because I care. Mark, I know that I don't say it often and maybe that is part of the problem. It isn't easy for me to say it so I try to show you in other ways. I think you know how I really feel, but maybe you need me to say it. I love you, Mark."
The Judge sat waiting to see if Mark was going to respond. Mark had lowered his head again and the Judge could not clearly see his expression. He waited for a few minutes and Mark raised his head. He smiled faintly at the Judge, his eyes bright. "I think I understand it now, Judge. I know that if you didn't want me turn to you, that you would tell me. It was just that I felt that it was wrong to feel that way and I was so upset at myself that I overreacted to everything. I couldn't tell you before because I was afraid that you would tell me I was right, that what I felt was wrong," Mark explained.
The Judge chuckled and then said, "So you held it all inside and let it tear you to pieces. Kid, you are something else. There is no wrong when talking about your feelings. I don't want you to ever be afraid to come to me when something is bothering you. That's what friends are for."
"And sometimes more," Mark added.
"Now you're cookin'," the Judge said smiling.
"Thanks for listening and understanding, Judge," Mark said smiling broadly. The first real smile since this whole thing started.
"You sure you are okay now? No more doubts or misunderstandings?" the Judge asked.
"No, I understand. I think I'll take a nap. Could you wake me for supper?" Mark replied.
"Now, I know you are feeling better, you're thinking with your stomach again," the Judge teased. Then he added, "You had better rest now, because all that work is piling up out there."
"Aw, Judge, can't a slave even get a break when he's sick," Mark retorted, feeling good to be teasing then Judge again.
The Judge was glad to hear the smart remarks coming from the young man once again. "You are not a slave." he said in response.
"I am getting pretty tired, so I think I will take a nap?" Mark said quietly.
"Sure, kiddo. Get some sleep and don't expect this mushy type talk every day," the Judge answered.
"Yeah, I know, it's not your style," Mark said and as the Judge got up to go, added, "Thanks, I'm glad we had this talk."
"Me too, bit, next time, don't wait so long. Okay?" the Judge answered.
"Okay, Judge," Mark replied as he settled back under the covers, no longer confused over his feelings for Sonny and the man he loved as a father.
The Judge quietly closed the door, relieved that his young friend was no longer confused over his feelings for the man who helped give him life and himself, who loved the young man as a son.
00000
Things quickly returned to normal. The arguments were back, but so was the teasing affection that had been missing during that difficult week. The two men soon put that confusing and trying time behind them as they enjoyed the knowledge that they had each other.