Chapter 23

"Well doctor, what do you think? Can we give it a try?" Mrs. Kindrick asked as the doctor completed his examination.

The doctor looked from Daryl to Mrs. Kindrick and frowned.

"My honest opinion is that no, he is not ready. His stamina isn't there yet, he is sleeping better yes, but not consistently. His ribs are still recovering and honestly, I feel that emotionally this might be too big of a step as well. I would like to wait at least 3 to 4 more weeks before you try to make it through a day in the classroom." The doctor moved to the sink to wash his hands and wait to see how Daryl handled the news.

Daryl's heart sank. He couldn't wait that long. It had been so long already. He was tired of being cooped up and looked after all day long. He enjoyed school for the most part. He liked most of the subjects taught and the other kids didn't bother him much anymore. He was embarrassed by the tears caught in his throat and he fought to contain himself.

"Please. I could just try. If I can't do it I'll say something. I mean Mr. Kindrick's there all day, I could easily go to him and we live just down the road so they could get me right quick." Daryl spoke quietly and spoke to the doctors back as the doctor stayed at the sink.

Mrs. Kindrick was surprised at the tone in which Daryl spoke. She could see him struggling with emotion. She feared he was going to shoot off at the mouth, curse at the man or at the very least storm out of the office. So far he remained composed.

"This could be a set back for you Daryl if this goes wrong. You need to understand that if you don't take your recovery seriously your body could experience permanent damage." The doctor came back to stand in front of the boy.

"I understand. I'll take it serious. The first sign of anything happening and I'll speak up." Daryl remained calm though inside he was feeling that tightness creep once again toward the surface.

"Ok, let's establish expectation then shall we. I will write the release for you to return to school Monday if you follow these expectations. First, you take your prescribed medications nightly, all of them. I hear you haven't been doing so and I prescribe those for a reason. Second, when you get home from school you go straight to bed and rest until dinner time. After dinner light activity only. Third, you start to feel ill, start to sweat, or feel a headache coming on you tell the teacher immediately. No fooling around at recess, in fact I prefer you go to the nurse's station and lay down for that time period. If you can meet all of these expectations, I will sign the doctor's note." The doctor waited for Daryl's response.

"Alright. I can do that." Daryl said making eye contact with the doctor. "So, I can go on Monday?" Daryl asked, watching the doctor type out the orders on the computer.

"It's against my better judgement, but yes. Seems to me you are really trying to improve. Keep it up. I'm impressed with the progress I've seen in you, and I mean that in the broad sense of the term." The doctor finished typing and turned around. "Now, I'd like a minute with Mrs. Kindrick alone please. Can you make it to the waiting area on your own?"

Daryl nodded his head and stood. He fought to not show the pain he felt while getting into the standing position. He opened the door and walked out into the hallway. The receptionist nodded as he walked by, and he kept his head down. Making it into the waiting room he went to the far side where only a few people sat waiting. The people glanced at him as he walked in. It was odd he thought how people didn't sneer at him like they had in the past. He shook his head slightly realizing that it was probably because he was showered and wore new clothes and shoes. In the past he had been unkempt with ill fitting clothing. Now he realized he walked through life undetected.

"So, tell me Mrs. Kindrick, how is he really?" The doctor directed them to sit in the chairs next to the exam table.

"He has made progress. There have been a few bumps in the road but overall, he isn't as challenging as I feared." She smiled. "He has started to come out of his room on occasion and engage with the family. He'll eat anything. He never complains about anything either. But he is quick to anger in some circumstances and his emotions are like a roller coaster."

"You are fully aware of his background?" The doctor asked.

"I think so." She raised her eyebrows. "Is there something more I should know?"

"I can tell you what I know about the Dixon's Mrs. Kindrick. I knew Daryl's grandfather. He was a decent fellow on and off when we were young. He worked hard, didn't have much and his father was a mean bastard, but Will Dixon Sr. tried to be a good man. Until his wife died. Will was barely a man then. They were young when Daryl's father was born. After Will Sr's wife passed, he lost his mind, turned to the drink. The whole lot of them were alcoholics. Will Sr. would beat his son daily, then one day when Will Jr., Daryl's father was only 14 they found Will Sr.'s body in the woods, shot in the head. Daryl's father got Daryl's mother pregnant shortly thereafter. The murder was never investigated but rumor has it Daryl's father was the killer. Merle, his older brother is a drug user, a criminal. He's been in and out of the system since he was fifteen years old. The first time I met Daryl, Merle had brought him here. He was only two years old and supposedly had fallen down in the yard. Both arms were out of socket, he had a black eye, his ear was bleeding. At two years old I thought the child was autistic. He didn't speak, didn't make eye contact. He grunted and made strange noises as I looked him over. I did what I could and reported it to the authorities. Merle brought him to me several times over the years, always with the same story. The story never lined up with the injury of course and Merle himself sported injuries that needed medical attention, but he would not allow me to look him over. All Daryl knows is violence. I worry about him around your young boys. I need to know that you are aware of his violent potential. He surprised me today when he met my eyes for the first time. The last time Merle brought him in to me it was his fifth birthday. Still the same thing, didn't speak, didn't make eye contact, grunted and made strange sounds while I examined him. The system failed this boy time and time again. Now I fear that you think you can help him, but in doing so your whole family is in danger. Don't believe for one second that danger is limited to Daryl, his father and Merle are not idol threats. You need to be on high alert, and as a matter of fact I would encourage you to seek placement for him elsewhere. Keep you and your family safe." The doctor held Mrs. Kindricks hands and frowned at the tears streaking her cheeks.

"We trust Daryl Doctor. He is good with the boys. He has a soft heart under that tough exterior. I understand what you are saying, and it is horrible to think he has gone through so much abuse his entire life. I appreciate your concern. But Daryl is already our family. Maybe one day we can even make it official. Right now, we are just going to be there for him and support him. Is there anything else I should know about before I go?" Mrs. Kindrick stood and wiped her face. She frowned at her shaking hands.

"Just be careful. I understand what you are trying to do here. But he is a Dixon, his bloodline is quite concerning. Think of your boys." The doctor watched as she opened the door and paused in the doorway.

"Once you get to know him doctor, you'll see. He is going to be a fine man one day. I appreciate your allowing his return to school. Thank you." She said as she started down the hall.

She stopped at the entrance to the waiting room. He sat in the far corner, eyes on the floor. His hair was getting too long she thought as it hung down covering his face. She walked toward him, and he stood. He hadn't ever looked up she thought, how did he know she was there?

"Ready to go?" She asked.

Daryl nodded and walked beside her toward the exit. They made it to the car, and he pulled open his door, a small squeak left his lips as he tried to again hide the pain he was in.

"You okay?" She asked, glancing his way.

He met her eyes and nodded then quickly turned to look out the window.

"You mind some music for the drive back?" She asked, switching on her car stereo.

He didn't respond, just remained looking out the window. Kid's music filled the air in the car but was quickly changed.

"Bon Jovi." She said as the cd started to play. "He's one of my favorites." Mrs. Kindrick turned the sound down to a more normal level, not as loud as it had been before. "You heard his music before?"

Daryl turned slightly away from the window then. "We had an old radio, didn't get but one channel. It was country. My Dad would turn it on sometimes, but I wasn't supposed to touch his things. Didn't much care for that music anyway."

"Well, if you don't want to listen just let me know, or if you don't like the music. We can try and find a genre you do like. Just let me know." She began to sing quietly under her breath.

Daryl took in the music; he did like the sound and the voice was nice. He listened to the words and looked over toward Mrs. Kindrick. She bobbed her head to the sound of the drums and guitar and mouthed the words quietly. He watched for a moment before she glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Ok?" She asked over the music.

"I'm alright." He said, then shook his head and rolled his eyes as she giggled.

"Knew you'd say that." She smiled.

She played two of her favorite Bon Jovi songs then hit the disc changer to Tom Petty. "You Don't Know How it Feels" began playing and she turned the music up slightly. She tried not to let Daryl notice that she was watching for a reaction trying to gauge his taste in the music. She smiled to herself as she saw in her mirror his eyes change as the lyrics played forth. She saw it then, a connection to the music. He shifted in his seat, a contemplative look on his face. She reached over and turned up the sound, it was loud now. He glanced in her direction as the music blared, his head tilted to the side, and he seemed to study her. She smiled in his direction and sang the lyrics with the music. He smiled, just the left side of his mouth turning up toward her. He shook his head slightly then turned toward the window once more. She watched as his head began to bounce along with the tune of the music.

"Alright young man, you heard the doctor. You have to rest up. Jerry will be here in two hours. Why don't you go lay down or grab a shower while we wait?" She said as they walked into the house.

"Alright." He said as he made his way to his room.

He hardly ever put up a fuss she thought as he did exactly what she said. The only time he really argued with them was when he was uncomfortable with something going on either involving medications, if he felt threatened somehow or because of physical touch. She tried to push away the thoughts of the conversation she'd had with the doctor. She knew Daryl's background well enough, but not the family history. She saw he left his door open and she smiled. He was showing signs of becoming more social. She knew they were making progress and that the doctor just didn't know what was happening really.

Daryl left his door open and headed toward his bed. He'd already showered before anyone else was up. His hair was getting too long he thought as he sat down and brushed his hair out of his eyes again. He didn't want to cause any trouble, but he would like a haircut. He'd done it himself through the years using his hunting knife usually, but he had no knives here. He wondered if they'd have scissors but wouldn't know where to find them. He'd tried to work up the courage to ask for a haircut, but it was ingrained in him that you didn't ask for anything unless you wanted to get knocked around a bit.

"Daryl?" Mrs. Kindrick stood in his doorway. "I was asking if you're hungry for lunch yet?"

Daryl looked up. She stood in his doorway smiling.

"I'm alright." They said in unison. She laughed again. He turned his head toward the wall.

"I know you are alright Daryl. I'm asking if you're hungry for lunch yet." She said coming into his room and sitting on his bed. He didn't answer but kept facing the wall.

She worried she hurt his feelings with her teasing. She sat quietly on the bed hoping he would look her way. After a few moments he glanced at her sideways.

"You think I'm stupid?" He asked, his voice low and deep.

"Why would you think that?" She asked, she paused realizing she was getting ready to put a hand on his leg.

"You're making fun of me." His voice was sad and tired.

"No Daryl. I'm not making fun. I was teasing you, that's different." She said quietly. "You always say that. You don't really answer the question. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." She reached forward again and placed her hand on top of his.

He looked down at her hand over his hand. He moved his hand out from under her grasp.

"Daryl. I'm going to fix some lunch for us. Do you like peanut butter and jelly?" She asked, remaining sitting on his bed.

"Don't matter." He replied.

"It does matter. You are allowed to have opinions, likes and dislikes. You don't have to be just alright." She said, her voice held a tone of excitement and she saw him scoot away from her a bit.

"I'll eat whatever. Don't matter. I'm alright." He said again, scooting further away.

"Please Daryl. I want to know these things. I know you don't like milk because you always pour yourself water. Mr. Kindrick said you didn't seem to care for ice cream. It's okay here to like and dislike things. You won't be in trouble; we won't be angry. We want to know you. The only way that can happen is if you let us get to know you." She finished in a whisper.

Daryl remained silent, looking toward the wall. He wanted to say that no, in fact he did not care for peanut butter, but he did like jelly. He wanted to say that he didn't care for the taste of milk but he loved orange juice. He wanted to tell her he really enjoyed the music in the car and the smell of the laundry detergent in his clothes but he didn't like the fit of the new jeans he was wearing. But he couldn't. His whole life he had been told what to do, never asked what he liked or disliked. He was punished for slight infractions. It was drilled into him that he didn't matter, that he was expected to do what he was told, no questions asked. He was hungry so often that being picky on food items was unacceptable and stupid. He felt frozen. Now he'd made her upset, he couldn't do anything right. This was a lose-lose situation for him. If he expressed himself here, then when he left he feared he'd make that mistake at home with his father or Merle. Then he'd be on the receiving end of a beating. Better to just stay the course he thought.

Mrs. Kindrick sighed and stood. She left his room silently, closing the door behind her. She walked to the counter and began to make the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and poured him a glass of water. She set it on the table and called him out to lunch. She watched him grimace as he walked in silently, then watched him mechanically take a bite of the sandwich. She found herself feeling a bit dejected. She thought they'd made progress, that he was starting to trust her more with himself. She stood at the sink and watched the birds out the window. She stood this way until she heard his chair scoot backward and he brought his plate to the sink. He rinsed his dish and put it in the dishwasher, working his way around her as she was in the way.

"Thank you." He said as he closed the dishwasher that now contained his plate and glass. "For lunch I mean."

"You're welcome." She returned as she turned to see his bedroom door close behind him.