Chapter Four

 

     The twenty-minute ride home was made in silence. Will drove Cecilia and the boys in his car. Cecilia and Rick rode in the back seat with A.J. lying in his mother's lap, his legs spread out across Rick's knees. Cecilia stroked A.J.'s hair as he rested against her with his eyes closed. She assumed that he’d fallen asleep, but as soon as Will pulled in the driveway and stopped the car, A.J.'s eyes popped open.

 

     A.J. took Rick’s hand and walked him to the house, with their mother and uncle following. Cecilia had said goodbye to her sister and brother-in-law in the hospital parking lot. She had assuring her younger siblings that she would have all the help she needed tonight, and that she might as well go home to her infant daughter and two-year-old son.

 

     Cecilia's mother was waiting for them in the living room, as were Bud and Edie Krelman. When A.J. caught sight of everyone he A.J. buried his face in Rick's side and refused to acknowledge the visitors, not even his beloved grandmother. Cecilia didn't push the issue. 

 

     “Rick, would you take A.J. upstairs and help him get washed and ready for bed?”

 

     “Sure, Mom.”

 

     "Put A.J. in the double bed in the guest room for tonight, please. He'll have more room to maneuver around with that cast on his arm than he will in his twin bed. Please stay with your brother until I come up. I'll be there in a few minutes."

 

     At Rick's "Okay," Cecilia turned and began answering the many questions of her mother and close friends.

 

     After sending Edie and Bud home thirty minutes later, and leaving her mother and Will downstairs, Cecilia made her way to the guest room. She found A.J. dressed in pajama bottoms now and lying on top of the blankets with Rick sitting beside him.

 

     Cecilia sat on the side of the bed opposite Rick and smiled.  "Thank you for helping him, Rick. Say good night to A.J. and get ready for bed now."

 

     A.J. propped himself up on his left elbow. "I thought Rick was going to sleep in here with me."

 

     "Honey, you need a little more room tonight because of your arm. Rick will be right next door."

 

     At those words, A.J. started climbing out of the bed. "Then I'll sleep in my bed in our room, too."

 

     "I can stay in here with him tonight, Mom. I'm skinny enough. I won't take up much room. Otherwise, I can bring my sleeping bag in and bunk on the floor if he needs more room."

 

     "I don't need more room.” A.J. patted the mattress beside him with his left hand. “There’s plenty here.”

 

     Cecilia knew she was fighting a losing battle, and also knew that if A.J. wanted Rick in here with him, then that’s where Rick should be. 

 

     “It’s up to you boys then. Whatever you prefer.”

 

Cecilia got her answer when Rick stood and headed for the door while promising his brother, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

 

     A.J. relaxed and laid back down.

 

"Do you want something to eat, sweetheart? All you had at the hospital was soup."

 

     "No, I don't want anything."

 

     Cecilia brushed her son’s bangs off his forehead. "Does your head still hurt?"

 

     "A little."

    

"If it's still bothering you when you wake up, I'll give you some more aspirin. Doctor Bob's going to stop by later in the morning, too, to see how you're feeling." The woman traced A.J.'s jaw line with her fingers. "It looks like Rick did a better job than usual of helping you wash. I don't see any traces of dirt."

 

     "I told him to do a good job, that Daddy would want him to."

 

     Fighting back tears, Cecilia swallowed hard. "You're right, A.J. Daddy would want that."

 

     The room grew quiet for a moment, and then A.J. asked, "Mom, what day is it?"

 

     "It's Sunday, honey. It's very early on Sunday morning."

 

     Cecilia briefly saw something in A.J.'s eyes. What though, she wasn't certain. Confusion, fear, panic? Maybe all of those things. Then, just as quickly, she saw A.J. suppress those feelings as he schooled his face into neutral mask.

 

“No, Mom, it's Saturday, I think. It's very early on Saturday morning."

 

     Cecilia made no reply. She was more concerned about his lack of expression, than she was about his actual words. A.J.'s feelings had always been so easy for his mother to read. He was the type of person who wore his heart on his sleeve, as the saying went. Rick was the son who could hide his feelings, and had always been able to, but not A.J. Not ever. He had always been an open book to his mother. Cecilia didn't know, until the night Jack died, that A.J. was capable of shutting himself off from others, especially from her. Looking down at him then, taking in the bruised and battered face, the cast, and the expressionless eyes, Cecilia cried deep in her soul for all she knew her son would have to deal with in the days and weeks to come.

 

Oh, Jack, why?  Why? Why A.J.? Why you?

 

     Cecilia pushed those thoughts away because she had no other choice. If she let her mind drift to Jack now, she knew she'd start crying, and she didn't want to do that in front of A.J. again. He'd been through enough already tonight.

 

     Wiping her eyes, Cecilia leaned over and kissed her son's forehead. "I love you, A.J."

 

     "I'm glad you're here, Mom. I'm glad you're okay."

 

     What does A.J. mean by that? That he’s glad I’m in the room with him? Or does he mean that he’s glad I didn’t die tonight along with Jack?

 

     "I'm fine, A.J.,” Cecilia assured. “I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. I'll always be here for you. You know that, don't you?"

 

     A.J. nodded. "I know that."

 

     Rick came back in the room dressed in pajama bottoms and a white undershirt. He climbed into bed beside A.J., as Cecilia helped A.J. prop his arm up on a pillow, and pulled the sheet and light blanket up to cover both her sons. Cecilia was reluctant to leave, but now that Rick was here she decided it was time for her to say good night. She knew Rick would give A.J. whatever the youngster needed in the way of comfort, and that maybe tonight it would be easier for A.J. to accept that comfort from Rick, than it would be for him to accept it from her. Besides, Cecilia was about at the end of all she could endure. She didn't know how much longer she could hold back and not start sobbing uncontrollably in front of her boys.

 

     “Grandma and Uncle will are going to spend the night. You boys sleep as late as you want to in the morning. Grandma and I will be here when you wake up."

 

     The boys nodded, and Rick asked, "I heard Uncle Will on the phone. Who's he calling at this time in the morning?”

 

     "He's trying to find your Uncle Ray. The last we heard he was in South America, but nobody really knows where."

 

     Rick didn't say anything to that, so Cecilia kissed the boys then and told them good night. Rick pulled her into a bear hug and whispered in her ear, "I love you, Mom. Don't worry, I'll take care of A.J."

 

      Kissing him again, Cecilia whispered back, "I know you will, Rick. I know you will. If you need me for any reason, please come and get me."

 

     “I will.”

 

     With a final goodnight to Rick and A.J., Cecilia headed for the door. She shut off the overhead light as she passed the switch. The bedside lamp still provided a dim light in the room. Cecilia didn’t tell Rick to shut it off, but rather would allow him to decide when it would be extinguished. The woman exited the room and closed the door behind her. Cecilia’s mother was waiting for her in the hallway. She took her daughter into her arms, and let Cecilia muffle her sobs against her shoulder.  Cecilia’s mother guided the woman down the hall to the master bedroom. She led her daughter inside, and then closed the door so the boys wouldn’t hear their mother crying.

 

_________________________

 

 

     A.J. was so quiet for so long after their mother left the room, that Rick was certain his brother had finally fallen asleep.  Just was he was leaning over to shut off the lamp, A.J.’s voice broke the nighttime stillness.

 

     "It's Saturday now, isn't it, Rick? It's early Saturday morning, right?"

 

     "No, A.J., it's Sunday. It's about one-fifteen Sunday morning."

 

     A.J. was quiet for a moment while he mulled over his brother’s words. "Why can't I remember what day it is? Why can't I remember Saturday?"

 

     Rick thought carefully again about everything Doctor Barton had discussed with him earlier in the evening before responding.

 

"A.J., don't worry about it right now. It's been a real long day, and you hit your head pretty hard. Doctor Bob says in a few days, when you're feeling better, you might remember Saturday again."

 

     "You know what, Rick?” A.J. asked with an odd note of hope to his voice.

 

     “No. What?”

 

“I don't think Saturday's been here yet, that's it. There hasn't been a Saturday yet, right?"

 

     Rick didn't know what to say. It sounded as if A.J. was trying to convince himself of something he didn't really believe. As though deep down A.J. knew Saturday had already come and gone, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to face that fact.

 

     Recalling once again what Doctor Barton had told him, Rick decided to steer A.J. to another subject, and also to repeat this conversation to his mom in the morning. Maybe she'd have some ideas as to what he should say to A.J. if this subject was brought up again.

 

     "A.J., how about if I read you a story? I know you’re too old for that kinda thing now, but maybe you'd like me to read you a chapter in that Hardy Boys book you've been working on."

 

     When A.J. didn't immediately reply, Rick knew his brother had realized that he was trying to change the subject. Rick waited then, wondering what A.J. would say next.

 

     A.J. appeared to be willing to go along with this shift of subject, because when he spoke again he requested, "Could you tell me a made-up story? You know, like you used to do when I was a little kid."

 

     "A made-up story?"

 

     "Yeah, you know. Not one you read from a book, one you make up as you go along. You're good at those, and you haven't told me one in a long time."

 

     "Sure, I can do that. But if I remember right, you have to pick the subject, and then I make up a story about it. Right?"

 

     "Yeah, that's how it works." A.J. thought a moment. "Okay, I've got an idea. I want a story about two grownup men named Rick and A.J. They're brothers, just like us, and in this story they have to be happy. And, they have to have an adventure."

 

     Rick smiled. "All right, let me think for a minute. This shouldn't be too hard though."

 

     Rick formulated the story in his mind, but before starting it, he needed to tell A.J. something he'd wanted to say all night. The teenager rolled toward his brother and gave him a careful hug.

 

"A.J., I'm real proud of you. I want you to know that.  You did...you did right by Dad tonight."

 

     A.J. lay stiffly in Rick's arms for a minute, and then pulled away.

 

"I'm ready for that story now, Rick."

 

     Rick gave a slight smile, then cleared his throat. 

 

"Okay, a story about two grownup guys named Rick and A.J. Well, once upon a time, there were two men named Rick and A.J. Rick had dark hair and always wore a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. He liked to wear comfortable clothes, too, like T-shirts and blue jeans, and he liked cute chicks. They thought Rick was cute, too.”

 

     "Rick." A.J. groaned.

 

     "Rick had a younger brother named A.J. A.J. had blond hair and liked to dress fancy, in suits and ties and stuff. His clothes were always clean and pressed. The kid was every mother's dream."

 

     "I don't wear suits and ties!"

 

     "Not all the time, but you like to. You like to get all dressed up and go to a fancy restaurant, or some place like that play Mom and Dad took us to last year. Besides, this is my story, A.J., so just keep your comments to yourself."

 

     "Okay, okay,” A.J. agreed. “Keep going.”

 

     "Anyway, A.J. liked to wear suits and ties, and he liked cute chicks, too. And those chicks really liked A.J. They were always chasing him, and causing him all sorts of problems that Rick had to help him get out of."

 

     "Rick! Yuck! This story's getting gross."

 

     Putting his hand over A.J.'s mouth, Rick interrupted his monologue just long enough to order, "Quiet, A.J."

 

"As you can tell by what I've said, Rick and A.J. didn't look much like brothers. A lot of people told them that they didn't look like brothers at all, but they were. Rick and A.J. knew they were brothers, because they felt like brothers. Maybe nobody else understood that, but Rick and A.J. did. They were best friends. Rick and A.J. had all kinds of adventures. They solved mysteries sometimes, too. Kinda like the Hardy Boys. One day, Rick and A.J. were in Mexico on a vacation and..."

 

     Rick talked a while longer, weaving a tale of mystery and intrigue for his little brother concerning a grownup Rick and A.J. Rick sighed with relief when, long before he’d finished his story, he realized A.J. was finally sleeping. He glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table and saw it was almost two. He reached up and shut off the lamp, then turned on his side and face away from A.J. while snuggling into his pillow. As his thoughts turned away from his younger brother and moved to his father, Rick started to cry. He tried hard to be quiet. The last thing Rick wanted to do was wake A.J. Tears ran down Rick's cheeks, and an occasional muffled sob could be heard, as the teenager gave into his sorrow, his loss, and his grief.

 

"Why did you leave us, Dad?” Rick whispered into his pillow. “Why did you leave us? Why was it you who had to die? I'm so scared. I'm so scared I won't be the kind of man you want me to be for Mom and A.J. I loved you, Dad. I loved you so much. Did you know that?"

 

Rick cried until he had no tears left. He fell asleep against his damp pillow, hoping that when he woke up the day’s events would turn out to have been a bad dream.

 

 

Chapter Five

 

     The next few days were full of confusion, as days preceding a funeral always are for those family members left behind. People came and went, phone calls were made and received, and burial plans were discussed and decided upon. Cecilia tried her best, while dealing with all these things, to give her boys as much attention as she possibly could. She was afraid she wasn't giving the boys enough of her time in those first hectic days after Jack’s death, but then came to realize that, as usual, Rick and A.J. were getting what they needed from each other. She also consoled herself with the thought that once the funeral was over on Wednesday, that things would be easier. The three of them would be alone, and she'd have a chance to focus on each child's individual needs. Until then, she was glad to see the boys seeking comfort from each other.

 

     A.J. followed Rick everywhere during those early days after their father’s death, and Rick willingly let the youngster do so. Rick’s patience with his younger brother appeared to be endless.  He offered solace, answered questions, and tried to keep A.J. occupied with games or a TV show. Watching the two of them, Cecilia realized that doing these things for A.J. was helping Rick as well. Keeping A.J. occupied gave Rick somebody who needed him. Needed his comfort, needed his strength, and needed his time. Cecilia knew that was good for her oldest son. It helped keep Rick's mind off everything and gave him a purpose. Several times Cecilia told Rick how proud she was of him, and how much she appreciated the time and attention he was giving A.J. Rick would just shrug his shoulders when his mother would say those things, and reply with, "That's what big brothers are for, Mom."

 

     Cecilia supposed that was true, at least in Rick's case it was true. Still, she appreciated his efforts nonetheless. Rick was normally not known for his patience, and like all teenagers his age, could be self-centered when it came to his own wants and needs. In many ways, Cecilia felt as if she was watching Rick grow up over night. He seemed to be putting his teen years behind him, in favor of taking on the responsibilities of an adult.

 

     The nights were the hardest for Cecilia. After the boys were asleep she'd retreat to her bedroom and cry. Cry for herself, and cry for the husband she loved and missed so much. She'd cry for the two children he'd left behind. Children Jack would never get to see become adults. She'd cry for her oldest son, the child who was already taking on responsibilities no fifteen-year-old should have to. Cecilia would cry for the first-born, who had so much of his father's strength and temperament. She'd cry because there would be no father for the teenage boy who needed a man to guide him into adulthood.

 

     Then Cecilia would cry, for her youngest child - the child who had so much of his father's sensitive soul. She'd cry for all her A.J. had endured that long Saturday. Cry at the thought of A.J. being trapped with his dead father, alone, injured, in the dark, and not knowing if help would ever arrive. She'd cry because he, too, at ten, needed a father to help him grow into manhood. And then Cecilia would find herself crying for A.J. because he couldn't cry for himself. What had happened to scar her son so deeply that he couldn't cry? That he couldn't express his sorrow and anguish? Cecilia was afraid she'd never know, and afraid she wouldn't know how to help A.J., and that he'd pay for that shortcoming on her part for the rest of his life.

 

     Would she be able to be both mother and father to her boys? Would she be able to raise them to be the kind of men Jack would be proud of? Cecilia was so scared, and so alone, and so unsure of herself those first few months after her husband's death, that she spent many nights crying herself to sleep as all these troubling thoughts ran through her mind.

 

_________________________

 

 

      Although getting through the wake, and then the funeral service, wasn't easy, Cecilia and the boys somehow managed. The wake was a long evening that involved greeting people, some of who knew the circumstances surrounding Jack's death, and some of who didn't. Explanations were given, sympathies offered, and tears shed, as people came and went. Through it all, Rick never left his mother's side. He stood next to her by the coffin, shaking hands, answering questions, and offering Cecilia silent support.

 

     A.J. stood by his mother and brother on and off throughout the evening, as well. Cecilia observed, however, that the youngster never looked at his father's body. Earlier in the afternoon, A.J. had also refused to accompany her and Rick, as well as other family members, in a private viewing of the body thirty minutes prior to the start of the wake. A.J. had chosen instead to wait in the hallway with his Uncle Will. Later in the evening, Cecilia mentioned this to Bob Barton. He put her mind to ease somewhat, by reminding her of all the things Frank Jonzek had shared with them. Bob Cecilia that maybe A.J. had already said his goodbyes to his father, and wasn't up to doing it again.

 

     Cecilia also observed that if someone who was unaware of how A.J. had been injured started asking innocent questions of him, the boy would become withdrawn and refuse to speak. Usually after an incident like that, A.J. would drift away to go sit beside his Uncle Will or Grandpa Simon. For whatever reason, A.J. had taken comfort in the presence of these two men ever since the accident. Therefore, Cecilia had put them in charge of keeping track of A.J. during the long hours of the wake. She and Will had agreed that if A.J. expressed a desire to go home, or seemed tired, or wasn't feeling well due to the headaches that were still bothering him, that Will would return with the boy to the Simon house and stay there with A.J. until the wake ended at nine. Cecilia did ask A.J. several times during the evening if he wanted to go home, and she heard Will ask him twice, but he always said no.

 

     Cecilia Simon looked up at the next person she was to greet at seven that evening, and was surprised to see the man holding A.J.’s left hand. If A.J. hadn't been smiling while he clung to the man, she probably wouldn't have recognized him considering the he’d only met him once, and that time he’d been wearing his fire department uniform. But waiting now to say hello to her and Rick, was Frank, the fire captain A.J. had spoken of often over the past three days. Cecilia was touched that the man would take the time to come to Jack's wake. Obviously, Frank didn't know the Simon family, which meant he was there for A.J. After Frank greeted Cecilia and Rick, Cecilia thanked him for coming.

 

“I want to thank you again, Captain Jonzek, for all you did for A.J. My husband would be so grateful to you for riding with A.J. to the hospital, and for staying with him until Rick and I got there. I know that isn’t normally a part of your job. We appreciate your kindness. A.J.'s talked so much about you. It makes me feel better to know my son had a special friend that night who took care of him."

 

     "That's nice of you to say, Mrs. Simon, but I was just doing my job. I have a son at home about A.J.'s age. I know what kind of care I’d want him to be given if he were ever injured and I couldn’t be with him." Frank smiled down at A.J., then turned his attention back to Cecilia. "You've got yourself a real special boy. And, as I told Andrew Jackson here, it's not every day I get called on to take care of a president."

 

     Frank talked to them a few minutes longer, then asked Cecilia if he could take A.J. to the drugstore across the street for an ice cream cone. She left that up to A.J., and wasn't surprised when he eagerly agreed. Cecilia knew it would do A.J. some good to get away for a few minutes with a man he obviously adored. Frank invited Rick to accompany them, and even though Cecilia urged her oldest to do so, Rick refused. The teenager chose instead to stay by his mother's side, where he felt his father would want him to be.

 

     That night as Cecilia observed A.J. finding comfort in his grandfather and Uncle Will, and then later in Frank, her heart ached for Rick. He had no one from whom to take comfort. Not that there weren't plenty of people who would have offered comfort to Rick had he let them, or had he sought them out. His grandfather had tried to break through some of the barriers Rick had erected that evening, but Rick would have no part of it. Grandpa couldn't get him to join in on some of the teasing and funny anecdotes that both Rick and his Grandpa Simon were famous for. Cecilia felt sorry for the older man. He was grieving over the death of his son - the first child he had ever had to bury, and yet he was trying so hard to help Rick deal with it She was glad then, that A.J. had turned to Grandpa for comfort. Giving of himself to the grandchild who had been the last person to be with Jack prior to his death, seemed to help Tom Simon cope with Jack’s passing.

 

     The problem for Rick that night, Cecilia realized, was that there was no one there who was special to Rick the way Will, and now Frank, were special to A.J. The person from whom Rick would have sought comfort - his Uncle Ray - hadn't been located yet. And while Cecilia was upset over this for Rick's sake, she also had an adult’s perspective of it. She knew that Ray arriving in two or three weeks would probably be better for Rick in the long run. Right now things were so hectic, and Rick was giving most of his time and attention to A.J., therefore he wouldn't be able to fully appreciate Ray's presence. Cecilia knew Ray would come to see her and the boys as soon as word of Jack’s death reached him. By then, things would have calmed down somewhat, giving Rick a chance to spend time with his favorite uncle. Cecilia had explained all this to Rick when she and Will had realized that Ray wasn't going to be at the funeral. Cecilia only hoped Rick understood, and that Ray’s absence didn’t make a tragic situation even more sorrowful for her teenager.

 

Rick did understand what his mother told him, and knew she was right when she said that in the coming weeks he’d have more time to spend with his Uncle Ray than he did currently. What his mother didn't know, however, was that Rick made a vow to himself the night that they realized locating Ray was going to be impossible.

 

Even though I wanna travel like Uncle Ray in a few years, I'll never go so far that I can't get back home in a couple of days if I can help it. And I'll never be so out of touch with Mom and A.J. that they don't know where I am. What if something happens to Mom like happened to Dad? I could never let A.J. go through something like this alone. Never.

 

Rick could hardly bring himself to think his other thought. The thought of coming home to find out that something had happened to A.J. That maybe A.J. had even died, and Rick didn't know about it until it was too late. That Rick would miss everything, and wouldn't be able to say goodbye to his brother.

 

Kinda like Uncle Ray and Dad, because Uncle Ray is missing the funeral, and doesn't even know Dad's dead. Never, not ever, will I do that to Mom or A.J., Rick promised himself then.

 

It was a promise Rick Simon kept throughout all his years of traveling. For the most part, Rick was never more than a two or three day journey from his mother's home, and he always tried to let her know how he could be reached if she needed him. It wasn't until he was sent to Vietnam, that Rick was often out of touch with his family for weeks at a time. As a Marine serving his country, Rick knew he had no choice in that regard, and he knew his mother understood that.

 

Rick watched now, as A.J. walked out the door with Captain Jonzek. He briefly wished his Uncle Ray was there, then squared his shoulders and turned to greet the next person in line to view his father’s body.

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

     A.J. finally reached a small milestone on his road to recovery on Wednesday, the day of his father's funeral.

 

     Doctor Barton had stopped by each day that week to check on A.J.'s injuries, as well as to be kept informed regarding his memory lapse. By Tuesday, when A.J.'s memory didn't seem to be improving any, Bob told Cecilia that he would contact the pediatrician he knew, and see if they could get some advice.

 

    It was the Wednesday morning of the funeral that A.J. got his days back on track. Ever since the accident had occurred, he had been a day behind everyone else. Looking back later, Cecilia supposed that A.J., knowing his father's funeral was to be held on Wednesday, finally had to accept the fact that he had lost a day somewhere.

 

     While they were getting ready to go to the funeral Wednesday morning, A.J. entered the kitchen to have Cecilia help him knot his tie. As she was doing just, he asked her what day it was, as he had done every day since the accident.

 

     "Mom, it's Tuesday, isn't it?"

 

    "No, sweetheart, it's Wednesday." Taking it a step further, she said, "Today's the funeral, A.J. Remember, we talked about that Monday and yesterday - that Wednesday would be the funeral."

 

     A.J. didn't respond to his mother. He didn't try and dispute her facts, as he had on the previous days they had gone through this routine. He simply walked away from her without commenting at all. Cecilia wasn't sure what to make of that, but she had so many other things on her mind, that she didn't pursue it with him.

 

     A half an hour later, A.J. returned to the kitchen and stood beside his mother at the sink, where she was washing the boys' cereal bowls. She smiled at him, while noticing how sad he looked.

 

     “Honey? Are you okay? Are you feeling all right?”

 

      A.J. kept his eyes on the dishwater that was draining from the sink when questioned in a tone of resignation, "It really is Wednesday, isn't it?"

 

     Cecilia wiped her hands off on the dishtowel and reached out to gently ruffle A.J.’s hair. "Yes, A.J., it really is Wednesday."

 

     "I thought so. I don't remember Saturday, but I guess I really was with Daddy, wasn't I?"

 

     Cecilia pulled A.J. to her chest. "Yes, A.J., you were. When you're ready you'll remember Saturday, sweetheart. It might not happen for a long time yet, but someday you may remember." The woman held her son at arms length so she could make eye contact with him. “When you do remember, Rick and I will be here to help you. We'll be here to answer all your questions. You know that, don't you?"

     "I know," came the quiet reply.

 

     And because A.J. sounded so sad, and so lost, and because she didn't know what else to say to him, Cecilia simply pulled her youngest son close once more. "I love you, A.J. I'm so proud of you. Rick's so proud of you. And your dad would be so proud of you. We love you very much. Please don't ever forget that."

 

_________________________

 

 

The funeral later that morning was over seemingly before it started, as most Protestant funerals usually are. Cecilia would recall thinking, "Jack would have loved this beautiful day we're having." The day was sunny and warm, and the temperature had climbed into the low eighties, as was normal for San Diego in August.

 

     Cecilia had considered not taking A.J. to the funeral, but Doctor Barton told her that wasn’t a good idea unless A.J. said he didn’t want to attend.  A.J. didn't mention anything about the funeral to his mother or Rick, and hadn't seemed upset, or asked any questions of Cecilia, when she explained to both boys on Monday evening what the arrangements were, and what they could expect. So, Cecilia followed Bob's advice and had A.J. attend. He sat with his mother and brother at the church, and then at the brief graveside service that followed.  At the graveside, Cecilia cried as Taps was played. Rick cried, too, then, as he sat holding his mother’s hands while silent tears streamed down his face. A.J. had sat impassively through everything up until this point, but as his mother began crying, the boy leaned sideways and hugged her waist with his left arm. Cecilia looked down at the top of A.J.'s head through a blur of tears. She thought perhaps he'd cry then. She hoped her youngest would follow her lead and Rick’s lead, and finally let out the pain that was bottled up inside him, but he didn't. A.J. just continued to hug his mother until the service ended a few minutes later. When she stood, A.J. stood with her.  He took her right hand, while Rick took her left.  Slowly, they walked away from Jack’s grave and toward the car that would take them home without him.

 

_________________________

 

 

 

     The last thing Cecilia Simon and her sons had to get through before they were left alone to reconstruct their family, was the funeral luncheon. One of Jack's good friends, Michael Wells, had insisted upon paying for a catered meal. Michael and his wife, Margaret, were going to host the luncheon in their home, but Cecilia persuaded them to have it at hers. She told Michael and Margaret that she thought it would be better for the boys to be in their own home after the funeral. At least they'd be in familiar surroundings, free to play with their cousins, or go up to their room, or retreat to a quiet corner, if they wanted to. By the time the long day finally ended when the last guest left at six that evening, Cecilia was glad, for A.J.’s sake, that she'd insisted the luncheon take place at her home.

 

     The funeral was over at noon. By one o’clock, Cecilia, the boys, and an assortment of friends and relatives were already back at the house, where their meal awaited them. Cecilia immediately noticed A.J. seemed withdrawn. Even more so than he had been at any time since Saturday evening. She could hardly get him to eat anything, but didn’t press the issue in front of their company. An hour after the luncheon had started, Cecilia was in the kitchen visiting with friends and relatives. She glanced over at A.J., who was sitting at the table. He had his head down on his left arm, and his eyes were closed. Excusing herself from her visitors, Cecilia walked over to her son and bent down.

 

"A.J., are you okay? Rick's outside with the other boys. Why don't you go out there and play."

 

     A.J. didn’t answer his mother.

 

“Sweetheart, tell me what's wrong, please. Do you feel all right?"

 

     “I have a headache."

 

     "A bad one?"

 

     A.J. opened his eyes.  "Yes."

 

    “Why didn't you tell me? I could have given you some aspirin."

 

     A.J. shrugged. "You were busy and I didn't wanna bother you."

 

     “A.J.--”

 

"It's okay, Mom. It's not that bad."

 

     Based on what A.J. had said less than a minute earlier, Cecilia knew his headache was a bad.

 

"A.J., I'm never too busy for you, no matter what. Especially when you're not feeling well. You need to tell me when you're having one of these headaches. All right?"

 

     "All right."

 

     Cecilia didn't allow her concern over the headache to show because she didn't want to frighten A.J. Although he’d had a slight headache on and off since the accident, he hadn’t complained of one this severe since he’d been in the emergency room on Saturday night.

 

"Stay here,” Cecilia said as she went in search of Doctor Barton. “I'll be right back."

 

     Cecilia returned from the living room with the physician.  He took A.J. into the bathroom and had him sit on the vanity countertop. While Cecilia watched, Bob examined the still visible bump on A.J.’s head and asked him a few questions. He had A.J. follow the movement of his right index finger, and then took the boy’s pulse. He smiled at A.J. when he was finished, then turned to Cecilia.

 

     “He’s fine, Cece. He’s had several long days. He needs to eat some lunch first, and then we can give him an aspirin. After we get that accomplished, I’d like him to rest for a while.”

 

     The doctor helped A.J. climb off the vanity.  The trio walked back to the kitchen, and using his best bedside manner, Bob coaxed A.J. into eating the ham and potatoes and dinner roll Cecilia put on a plate for him. After he’d finished eating, A.J. put the aspirin in his mouth his mother gave him and washed it down with the remainder of his milk.  The youngster didn’t want to lie down on his bed as Bob suggested, so Cecilia let the subject drop. For the next hour A.J. drifted from room to room and leaned against his Uncle Will, or Grandpa Simon, or mother, or older brother, who had come in from outside, while they stood and visited with people.  By four o’clock many of their visitors were leaving, and the household was quieting down.  A.J. laid on the sofa then and rested his head in his mother’s lap. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, not even waking when some of his cousins thundered through the house in search of him.

 

     At seven o'clock that evening, after four days of a constant parade of visitors, Cecilia and her sons were finally alone. Cecilia’s mother had wanted to stay for the rest of the week, but Cecilia insisted she'd be fine. She gently but firmly told her mother she and the boys needed to be alone in an effort to try and get some semblance of normality back into their lives.

 

     By eight o'clock, Cecilia and her sons had eaten leftovers from the luncheon for their supper, and then the woman urged A.J. to put his pajama bottoms on and go to bed. When no protest was given, she knew he was as tired as he looked. The only request A.J. made was that Rick come upstairs with him and tell him ‘their’ story. Though Cecilia didn’t know what that meant, she was glad Rick agreed to it. It made getting A.J. to bed all that much easier.  While Cecilia tucked her youngest into the bed in the guest room, Rick sat on the bed beside A.J. and began telling the story of, “two grownup guys named Rick and A.J.” Cecilia soon realized this was a continuing saga that had been progressing for several days now.

 

     "Okay, A.J., let's see, last night Rick and A.J. were fighting that motorcycle gang. Right?"

 

     "No, they were done doing that, remember? They beat those guys to a pulp, and then they jumped on a motorcycle and rode to the beach. But then the gang leader showed up before Rick and A.J. could rescue that girl the gang had kidnapped and hid there in the caves. They were about to have a big shoot-out, and then I think I fell asleep ‘cause I don’t remember any more after that."

 

     "Oh, yeah," Rick nodded, his eyes lighting up with recollection. "Okay, Rick and A.J. are running to get behind some boulders, and the gang leader shoots at ‘em three times, but totally misses ‘em. Then A.J. and Rick pull out their guns. A.J. has a rifle, and Rick has a sawed off shotgun, and--"

 

     "Rick!" Cecilia interrupted her eldest. "For Heaven's sake. What kind of things are you telling your little brother?"

 

     "Oh, Mom, it's just a story,” Rick assured his mother.  “Nothing like this will ever happen. It's just pretend."

 

     "Yeah, Mom, it's just a story,” A.J. said. “Just an adventure story Rick’s making up. It can't ever happen.”    

 

Shaking her head at the two of them, Cecilia bent and kissed A.J. good night. "Well, I sure hope it never happens. I'll certainly have plenty of gray hairs if you boys run around having those kind of adventures."

 

     "Aw, Mom,” Rick said as Cecilia kissed his check. “You worry too much."

 

     As Cecilia stood in the hallway, she heard Rick pick up the story where he had left off. Not for the first time she thought of how thankful she was that her sons were so close. She knew that something as simple as this story would help them navigate the difficult days that were bound to be ahead, as they worked through their sorrow over the loss of their father.

 

                  

Chapter Seven

 

     Summer drew to a swift end for Cecilia and her sons that year. Labor Day weekend found them at the beach with most of the Simon clan celebrating the end of summer vacation – or at least celebrating if you were the mother of children returning to school during the coming week. The kids were playing in the surf and on the beach, with several of their uncles and older cousins supervising while playing right along with them. Cecilia and her sister-in-law, Pat, sat on a blanket some distance from the water, where the family picnic area had been established. 

 

     "Are the boys ready for school to start?"  

 

     "I think so," Cecilia said. "It's been a hard month for both of them. The change will do them good. Even Rick hasn't been doing his usual end-of-summer grumbling over the start of school. I think he's looking forward to being reunited with his friends. Goodness knows he deserves to, Pat.  Since Jack’s death, he's devoted all his time to A.J. and me."

 

     Jack’s younger sister nodded her agreement. "Rick's been so good with A.J. these past few weeks. Jack would be very proud of him."

 

     "I know he would, Patty." Cecilia looked out at the ocean and watched the children play for a moment, then returned her attention to her sister-in-law. "I worry about him, though. Fifteen is awfully young to take on the responsibilities that come with being to man of the family, and that's what Rick's trying to do. He’s trying so hard to be a father to A.J., as well as a big brother, and a best friend. That's a big load to carry. He's hardly seen any of his friends since the accident. If he isn't with A.J., then he's doing some household chore for me - mowing the lawn, washing windows, cleaning out the garage, washing the car - I don't even get a chance to ask Rick for help, before he’s decided some chore should be done. You know as well as I do that before Jack died, we fought with Rick just to get the garbage out to the curb, or to get him to pick up his room.  I haven't had to remind him to do a thing since Jack died."

 

     "That's good a good thing," Jack's sister replied. "That's a big help to you, Cecilia. You don't need to be fighting with Rick right now. Neither one of you needs that kind of stress."

 

     "I suppose you're right, but I can't help but worry that Rick's taking on too much. I've tried to talk to him about it. I’ve told Rick how proud Jack would be of him, and how much I appreciate his help, but that I realize he's only fifteen, and that I understand he wants to have time to do things all teenage boys like to do."

 

     "What did Rick say when you told him that?"

 

     "Not much. He said that he wants to help me, and that he doesn't mind spending time with A.J. You know how Rick is. He doesn't reveal a lot of what he's feeling. He's so much like Jack sometimes."

 

     "Yes, he is. Rick's temperament and personality are very much like Jack’s. He's a good kid, Cece. He'll be okay." Pat lifted an arm and waved, that motion indicating to her youngest son that he should come closer to shore. When he had complied, she resumed the conversation.  "What about A.J.?  How's he really doing?"

 

     "I don't know,” Cecilia sighed. “He has his good days and his bad days, like we all do. There are days when he’s almost his old self, when I almost see my happy, outgoing boy again. And then there are days he's so withdrawn and sad. On those days, Patty, I swear I look into his eyes and an old man looks back at me. A man who's seen far too much pain and suffering in his lifetime. That's the only thing I can compare it to. No matter how hard I try, I can't get A.J. to open up to me on those days. That's so unlike him, and it frightens me. I'm afraid he lost an important part of his childhood that night in the car with Jack."

 

     After a minute of nothing but the sound of the waves hitting the shore, and of the children's laughter and shouts, Pat asked, "Is A.J. remembering any more about the accident?"

 

     "He doesn't seem to be, but it’s hard to say for sure. He doesn't ask any questions about it any longer, doesn't say anything about it at all, as a matter of fact. But I've noticed recently that if the accident is brought up in conversation for whatever reason, A.J. leaves the room. I don't know what that means. Bob says to just let him be. He said that A.J. has to work through some of this by himself."

 

     "So Bob doesn't think A.J. needs to see anybody about what he went through the night of the accident?"

 

     "No. Bob talked to a pediatrician who felt, based on what Bob told him about A.J. and our family, that we were the ones who could give A.J. the most help." Cecilia shook her head and said with doubt, "I don't know, Pat. I worry constantly that what I have to offer A.J. just isn't enough. What if he needs more than I know how to give?"

 

     Taking Cecilia's hand in hers, Pat squeezed lightly.

 

"Cecilia, that's not possible. You're a wonderful mother. You're so attentive to both of the boys’ individual needs. You always have been. Jack thought you were the best mother in the world. He bragged on you all the time. He admired the patience you always had with Rick, and the way you fostered the boys’ closeness. He was so proud that Rick and A.J. are such good friends, and he gave you all the credit for that bond. He loved you so much, Cece. You've got to know that." Pat gave Cecilia's hand another squeeze before releasing it. "I know you're giving A.J. everything possible there is to give. It's only been four weeks since the accident. We're all still hurting. It only stands to reason that A.J. must be hurting twice as much. He's a strong boy. He'll come around, just give him time."

 

“I hope you’re right.”

 

"I think I am. When he stayed over night last Saturday, he told me that he was looking forward to school starting. He mentioned something about a sports team he was going to be on. What's that all about?"

     Cecilia’s eyebrows knit together in confusion for a moment. “Oh, he must mean the intramural program. It's something his school started last year for fifth and sixth grade boys. They stay after school on Monday and Wednesday afternoons and play a variety of sports - baseball, football, and basketball. The gym teacher is hoping the program will help the kids who want to go on to play on the junior high and high school teams, by giving them some practice and coaching. A.J. was so disappointed last year when they started the program and he couldn't participate because he was only a fourth grader. I knew he was pretty happy last week when his cast came off, and Bob gave the okay for him to be part of the program when it starts at the end of September.”

 

     "I'm sure that will help then. A.J. seemed excited when he was talking about it to me."

 

     Cecilia scanned the children in the water to make sure she could still see A.J. "I hope it helps, Pat. Boy Scouts starts up again next week, too, so between that, intramurals, and school, I'm hoping we see a change in him. A.J. got Mrs. Larson, Rick's fifth grade teacher, for his teacher this year, too. Rick really liked her, so I know A.J. will love her. She was one of the few teachers Rick has ever had that he liked – you know Rick when it comes to school.  Anyway, she kept the kids busy with projects and a lot of learning games. I think that's what A.J. needs now, to be kept busy. I called Mrs. Larson last Monday and made her aware of the situation we’ve been through, and how it’s affected A.J. She was very understanding. She promised she'd keep in contact with me and let me know if she notices any problems with his schoolwork, or how he interacts with the other children. That made me feel a little better. I just want it to be a good year for him. I hate to see him so sad."

 

     "I know," Pat nodded her head. "I noticed that when he stayed with us last weekend. You know how it is when A.J., Mark, and Kevin get together. They run around like wild Indians, and they're always giggling, and laughing, and up to no good. A.J. played with the boys, but I never heard him laugh or saw him smile.  Watching him now, playing with the other kids in the water, is the same as watching him with my two boys. I get the impression A.J.’s just going through the motions.”

 

     “Going through the motions?”

 

“That A.J.'s trying to make us happy by doing what we expect of him, but that underneath that facade, he isn't happy."

 

     "I know what you mean. I haven't heard A.J. laugh even once since the accident. Neither has Rick."

 

     "Even Mark noticed it,” Pat said in reference to her seven-year-old. “After you picked A.J. up on Sunday, Mark came to Jim and me, and asked us why A.J. was sad all the time. Jim explained to him how difficult it is for any of us to fully understand what A.J. went through, and that the best way we can help him is by being his friend."

 

     "I appreciate that, Patty. You and Jim, Will - all of you, have been so good to us. Rick and A.J. are going to need their uncles now more than ever."

 

     The two women continued talking, as the young man they hadn't noticed standing a few feet behind them moved away. Rick had been returning from his mother's car, where he had gone to put away his and A.J.'s diving masks and fins. Rick didn't mean to eavesdrop, but couldn't resist when he heard the subject that was being discussed.

 

     For the first time since the accident, Rick realized that his father's death didn't just affect his mom, and A.J., and himself.  It reached much further than that. Upon overhearing his Aunt Pat, Rick now understood how much his dad’s passing impacted his extended family members, as well.

 

     Rick realized for the first time, too, how deeply his mother was hurting for her sons. It was also the first time Rick had ever heard an adult say they were frightened. He had just heard his mother say that several times in reference to the new life she was facing without his father. In a way, that scared Rick.  His mother had always been such a strong, independent woman, even before his father died. Yet, in another way, finding out his mother was fearful of all the uncertainties she faced, made Rick feel better. Rick now had confirmation that it was all right to be scared, and that it was normal to be frightened when he thought of facing the future without his father by his side.

 

     Rick didn't know how he felt when it came to discovering how concerned his mother was for him. It made him feel loved, he couldn't deny that. And it also felt good to know his mom recognized how important it was to Rick to be the man of the family, and how much he wanted to accept the responsibilities that came with that title. At the same time, the teenager didn’t want his mother to worry about him. Rick knew he'd be fine. Although navigating the next few years without his father wasn’t   going to be easy, Rick had confidence he’d get through it okay. If his mother was going to worry about anyone, Rick thought that worry should be directed at A.J.  That’s certainly where all of his worry was directed.

 

     Like his mother and Aunt Pat, Rick hated to see his little brother so sad. And just like A.J. wouldn’t open up to their mother when he was withdrawn, he wouldn’t open up to Rick either. Rick always felt useless then. He was willing to give A.J. anything he needed from him. But Rick had learned in recent weeks, that no matter how much he might have to offer A.J. in the way of advice or comfort, if A.J. wasn't willing to take those offerings, there wasn't much Rick could do about it. That's what Rick found more frustrating than anything else. The teenager had to be reminded often by his mother, that Doctor Barton had told them A.J.'s emotional recovery would require time and patience.  That last wasn't easy for Rick. He had no more patience at fifteen, than he would have years later as a grown man. When his patience over the situation ran short, and along with that his worry for A.J. would increase, Rick’s mother would tell him that the little things they did for A.J. in the form of shared bike rides, trips to see a movie, or playing a game of Monopoly, were likely helping A.J. far more than they’d ever know.

 

     “Don’t force yourself to climb a mountain, Rick,” Cecilia would say when Rick was desperate to come up with an idea that would help A.J., “when scaling a mole hill is all your brother asks of you.”

 

     Rick turned when he felt someone place a hand on his back.

 

     “What are doing up here by yourself, Rick?”

 

     “Hey, Uncle Will. I was putting our masks and fins back in Mom’s car.”

 

     “You looked like you were lost in some pretty heavy thoughts.”

 

     Rick shrugged as the watched his brother and cousins play.

 

     “Are you okay, son?”