Art Imitates Life Imitates Art

 

Jordan woke up in the hospital with wires attached to his body in various places, but mostly on his chest.  To his surprise, he was not alone in the room.  There was a strange woman he had never met before sitting in a chair near his bed, reading over some papers she had spread across the little rolling table that Jordan had seen in tv show hospital rooms.  When he moved in the bed, she pushed the table away and stepped over closer to him.  "Good, you're awake," she said as she helped him to sit up a bit and offered him a glass of water to drink.

"How long…." Jordan began.  He wasn't sure what he should ask first though.  How long had he been in the hospital?  How long had he been asleep?  Well, those two were sort of the same question, he realized.  "Where are my parents?" he asked, as he looked around the room nervously.

"Umm, about that, Jordan," the woman began, but she was cut off by a nurse coming into the room just then.

"Yes, you are awake," the nurse called out happily as she came over and checked a monitor beside the bed.  "Vitals still look a little sluggish, but you're awake, so we can work on the rest.  Doctor Howitz will be in here in just a moment, I'm sure."

Speaking of the doctor, he burst into the room and called out, "Well it's about time.  Now maybe my son can pay attention to everything else in his life and not, God forbid, flunk out of school, or worse, get kicked off the football team."  At the look he got from the nurse, he quickly turned to the other woman and continued.  "Anna, tell her I was joking about the team before she does mean things to me."

"My husband the fraidy cat," the woman said rolling her eyes.  "Denise, you know that neither of us wanted Dennis to play that stupid game and get hurt."

"I wasn't thinking about that," the nurse said sassily. "I was just wondering how a man can be so good at making the patients compliant even when they are fighting us, and yet be such a pushover for his own family," she explained as she left the room with a smirk.

"Did she just call me a wimp?" the doctor whined, causing Jordan to snicker a little bit.  "Ah, so you have a sense of humor when you're not unconscious.  Look, Anna, he can even smile and blush.  I think he might be a real boy after all."

"Denny," the woman named Anna said threateningly.

"What?  The only times I have ever seen the boy, he's been asleep.  Meh, at least maybe you won't get those bags under your eyes like Dennis does from staying awake all night playing video games and watching… what he watches on the Internet."

"DENNIS DAVID HOWITZ SENIOR!" Anna growled.  "You told me that you fixed the wifi at home so that he couldn't watch that stuff anymore."

"Anna, my darling, my angel," the doctor cooed.  "I'm a doctor, not a computer tech.  If I wanted to change the wifi password at home, I would have to ask Dennis how to do it.  Wouldn't that be counterproductive to making it something he wouldn't guess?"

"You could have just told me that I needed to get Frank from my office to come over and do it," Anna huffed.  She walked over to the little table and wrote a note in her calendar.  "There, I will remember to talk to Frank and see when he can come over.  You know you'll have to make your steaks on the grill for him."

"Damn it, Jim, I'm a doctor not a fry cook," he said as he finally turned his attention to Jordan.  "Oh, dear, Jordan, what's wrong, kiddo? My Star Trek joke wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Yes, it was, and stop calling me Jim, Bones," Mrs. Howitz scolded.

"Is the lady mad at you?" the boy asked as he sat shaking like a leaf in a hurricane on the hospital bed. His knees were pulled up against his chest, his arms were wrapped around them tightly, and it looked like he was one second away from hiding under the sheet.

"I'm not mad at my husband, I promise, Jordan," Anna smiled.  "I'm sorry if my teasing him upset you. And don't worry if you don't laugh at his jokes; his bedside manner seems to only be funny to our son."

"Where's my parents?  How much trouble am I in for being here?" Jordan asked nervously, and then gasped and put a hand over his mouth.  "Please don't tell Mother I said that.  Please.  I didn't mean to say it and she's just overworked sometimes and I'm such a disappointment."

"I'll be out in the hall, Denny.  Let me know if you think I need to reassign him to Alfred," Anna said as she grabbed all her paperwork and things, rushing out of the room.

"Ok, Jordan, it's just us guys in here now," the doctor soothed.  "I know you may have trouble accepting it right now, but Anna is nothing like your mother.  She's very nice and she only wants to help you."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jordan repeated a few times, sniffling a bit.  "I don't mean to be such a big baby.  Please, you won't tell Mother about this will you?"

"I will not be speaking to your mother about anything regarding you, and neither will you," the doctor stated firmly.  "She is out of your life now, and she'll stay that way for a very long time, maybe permanently, I hope."

"I don't understand," Jordan said with a blink of confusion. 

"Let me give you a little checkup and then we will discuss all that has happened and how it will be affecting you," the doctor told him.  "Now, I'll make a deal with you.  If you sit up and take nice big deep breaths for me, I promise to warm up this stethoscope, so it doesn't freeze your nipples off."

"It could do that?" the boy gasped and covered his chest protectively.

"I was exaggerating a bit," Dr. Howitz confessed.  "These things do get pretty cold though," he explained holding up the business end of the device that would let him hear Jordan's breathing and heartbeat.  "Now sit up straight for me and breathe as deeply and calmly as you can.  Excellent, now normal breathing.  Ok, good.  Now we need to talk about those marks on your back."

"I fell down," Jordan said quickly.

"You fell on your father's belt repeatedly?" Dr. Howitz asked pointedly.  "Nice trick.  Now how about the truth?  Did your father hit you with his belt or was it your mother?  It's very important we get the true facts here, Jordan."

"She'll be so mad at me," Jordan suddenly wept.  "Please don't make me say anything."

"You've said enough, Jordan," the man said softly.  "Come here, your doctor is prescribing a hug."

"Is Dad in trouble that you know it was his belt?" Jordan whimpered.  "He didn't hit me, he never did.  She would….  It wasn't him, you gotta believe me."

"I do believe you, Jordan, but there is something you need to talk about now.  My wife, Anna, can come in and go over it all with you, or she can call her friend Alfred and he can take care of you instead, if you don't want it to be a woman."

"You promise she won't get mad at me or hurt me?" Jordan whispered, sounding much younger than he actually was.

"I promise, young man," the doctor vowed.  "We can get someone else here to be with you if you want, another man if you need one."

"Is my dad here?"

"No, I'm so sorry, Jordan, your father…. Well, he can't do this," Dr. Howitz stammered.

"I wish Mr. Lindell was here, then.  He took good care of me both times I got allergic in his class."

"Well, you're in luck because your art teacher, Mr. Lindell, is here, waiting out in the lobby.  He has been very worried about you.  He even cancelled his classes at the junior high to be here for you when he found out about….  Well, he wanted to be here for you," the doc informed Jordan.

"Can he come see me now?" the teen asked eagerly.

"You trust him to be in here with you?" Dr. Howitz asked for confirmation.

"Mr. Lindell is the best," Jordan gushed.  "I kinda wish he was my…. No, I shouldn't say stuff like that.  Dad tries his best, he's just a fu… err he's messed up like me."

"Ok, now what about Anna?  It's not a problem if you would rather have Alfred as your worker, she will understand completely."

"If Mr. Lindell is with me, I won't mind if Mrs. Anna talks to me," Jordan said bravely.

Dr. Howitz stepped over to the phone on the wall and, after punching in a number, spoke into the handset.  "Will you let Terry Lindell know that he can come back to Exam Room 7, please?  I know he's not family, but I am ordering this as the CMO.…  Your objection is noted Mrs. Haynes and you are relieved of duty.  I assure you; I am totally serious.  You are fired for questioning a physician's orders in the best interest of the patient.  I will send someone to take over your post."  He hung up and found Jordan shaking and crying in the bed again.  "Please, stop that, Jordan.  This was not your fault and is all on that bigoted, religious fanatic.  I've wanted to get her out of this hospital for a long time.  Her hatred has nothing to do with you in any way, shape, or form."

"Dennis, may we come in?"  Both occupants of the room looked over to the door to see Mr. Lindell standing there with the doctor's wife.

"Mr. Lindell," Jordan sobbed.  The man rushed over and sat on the edge of the bed and hugged the teen tightly.  "I'm sorry.  I'm just so scared right now, and Doc says my dad can't come in, and I trust you, and I'm so sorry you had to cancel your classes for me, and I'll make it up to you, only I don't know how, but I will do my best, and…."

"Shush, Jordy," the art teacher soothed.  "Simmer down and breathe for me, ok, son." He took Jordy's hand and put it on his own chest. "Feel my heart beating for you? Feel me breathing? Now match that rhythm with yours.  In… out… in… out.  That's my good boy.  Feeling better now?"

"You called me son and said I was a good boy, your good boy," Jordan whispered and started sobbing all over again.

"Well, that wasn't quite the reaction I was hoping for, Jordan," Mr. Lindell joked weakly as he kept rubbing the boy's back as he held him close.

"If you all will excuse me, I have some hospital business to attend to," Doc said as he ducked out of the room.

"You're sure you are ok with me being in here for now, Jordan?" Mrs. Anna asked softly.

"Yes, ma'am.  You're not my mother, so I'll be ok," Jordan responded and then slapped a hand over his mouth.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to say that.  Don't pay any attention to that.  Please.  Don't tell her."

"It's all right, Jordy," Mr. Lindell soothed.  "Anyone that wants to hurt you from now on has to go through me, and I'm a lot tougher than I look.  I'll… Ummm… I'll paint their eyes shut with my scratchiest brush."  Jordan started giggling and hugged his teacher tighter.

"Thank you, Mr. Lindell," the boy laughed.

"Ok, some things have changed that I am duty bound to inform you of," Mrs. Anna said with a smile, as she looked up from her phone.  "Because of some extenuating circumstances that I was made aware of while I was out of the room, I will be turning your case over to my friend and coworker, Alfred, after all. He can't get here for a little while, though, so I will handle things for the moment if that is all right."

"What is going on?" Jordan asked nervously.

"Jordan, I'm afraid I have some upsetting news for you," the woman began.  "You were brought into the emergency room by the school nurse and a fellow student today because of your allergy to the clay used in your art class.  That student is currently in the lobby awaiting proof with his own eyes that he has not, in his words, 'killed you, or worse, given you a permanent rash on your'… well, on your privates.  He knows that you have a lot of stuff to deal with right now, though, so as your temporary social worker, I promise he won't bother you unless you invite him back here.  As his mother, however, I will warn you that if you do allow him back here, you may never get rid of him. Also take it from someone who has seen his browser history, you shouldn't have to worry about why he's with you."

"Wait, a student?  Who?  No… please do not tell me that Dennis Howitz, the hot… umm the best player on the team is sitting out there waiting for me."

"Ok, we won't tell you, but I confess ahead of time that I may let it slip that you just called him hot, just so I can watch him do his happy dance all over the lobby," Mrs. Anna smirked.

"More like…" Jordan mumbled.  "Wait, did you say happy dance?"

"You and Little Denny can work things out on your own later," the woman smiled.  "Just don't expect me to fall for the old sleepover with the study buddy routine.  You are far too cute, and he has it way too bad for that to work.  If you sleepover, you will be in the guest room, not his.  Getting back to business, though, you have been removed from the care of your biological mother pending the outcome of a child services investigation into her treatment of you.  Even if we had not removed you at this point, you still would not be able to go home as your mother is in custody right now for causing an accident that took the life of your father.  I'm very sorry for your loss, Jordan."

"Daddy's gone?  She actually killed him this time?" Jordan gasped.

"Your parents did not have a happy relationship?" the woman asked seriously. 

"Mom beat him more than she did me, mostly because he protected me when he could," Jordan answered hollowly.  "She always cussed him out for knocking her up with me and then their parents made them get married.  She said I was as big a failure and fuckup as he was and neither of us would ever amount to anything if she didn't make us toe the line."

"I suspected as much," Anna nodded.  "I will be referring this information to the sheriff and the district attorney's office as well.  I really am sorry that our system let you down for so long, Jordan."

"You seem really nice, Mrs. Anna.  Why can't you be my social worker?" Jordan asked her curiously.  "I don't want Mother to make me hate all women."

"Well, sweetie, it is considered a conflict of interest if I am the social worker for my son's boyfriend," she retorted with a smirk.  "I'm very glad to hear that you are so mature about this, though."

"What?  I'm not his….  He's not my…. We're not…. He hardly even knows I'm alive.  Why would Dennis Howitz be interested in a loser like me?"

"You are NOT a loser, Jordan," Mr. Lindell insisted.  "You are one of my best students, and my favorite, but don't tell any of the other kids that. Dennis would be very lucky to get such an adorable and talented boyfriend."

"But I'm not even…. Ok, yes, I am.  I'm not just a loser and a disappointment, I'm a fag too."

"You don't look like a British cigarette to me," Mr. Lindell said with a frown.  "I see a very nice-looking boy, who is incredibly well mannered and polite, as well as being top of the class in art, as well as English.  Therefore, you will never, ever refer to yourself with that degrading, demeaning, and frankly nonsensical term again, is that understood, son?"

"You called me son again," Jordan whispered in wonder.

"Well, that is the next order of business," Mrs. Anna spoke up.  "Terence Lindell and his husband, nurse Michael Wallace Lindell, have applied to be your foster parents, Jordan.  If that is acceptable to you, I can have you both sign the papers right now, and I can turn them over to Alfred when he gets here."

"You want to be my Daddy?" Jordan blinked up at the man in awe, shock, and clear hope.

"No," the man answered, ignoring the instant sadness in the teen's face.  "I lost the coin toss, so I have to be Papa, and Micky gets to be Daddy, but he will be so happy when we walk in the house together tonight," Mr. Lindell smiled.

"WOW… like O M G. I just told Doc earlier that I sometimes wished you were my….  But… but my real father.  He did try to take care of me."

"I definitely don't think for a moment that he left you by choice, Jordan," the man said with a hug.  "He just wasn't able to do everything for you that he wanted or that you wanted.  Micky and I will do our best to make up for that, I promise."

"Ok, well it looks like I will need these papers signed," Mrs. Anna smiled.  "Before they can be officially filed, though, Mich…."

"Knock, knock, how's our patient doing?"  Everyone turned to see the nurse in question at the door.  "What?  School is out for the day, and I wanted to come by and check up on him."

"Congratulations, Michael, it's a boy," Mr. Lindell joked as he ruffled Jordan's hair.

"You're serious?  You promise you're not joking?  He's really ours?"

"Hi, Daddy," Jordan said with a bashful grin.

"YAHOOOOOOO!"

"Michael Kenyon Wallace… Lindell… you know better than to yell like that inside a hospital, especially as you're a nurse," another voice scolded from the hallway.

"But Mom, we just got a kid, our own kid, like he's really ours now," the school nurse announced excitedly. 

"Mrs. Wallace?" Jordan asked in confusion as the woman stepped into the room with them.

"If you dare to call me Grandma in class, I will assign you a week's detention, and if you call me anything else any other time, it will be a month of detention," the older woman informed the young teen as she walked over and embraced him and his new parents.

"Signatures or it isn't legal," Mrs. Anna pointed out. 

"Dad told me that it was ok to come back here," a nervous voice announced from the hallway.

"Hi boyfriend," Jordan waved and grinned.  At the shocked expression on the other teen's face, he added, "Your mom called us boyfriends, so it would be a shame to disappoint her, right?"

""Wha… Huh?" the football player stammered oh so coherently.  He then got a big smile on his face.  "Oh, yes, I always do as my mother says," Denny replied as he slid around his mother and the other adults in the room to stand very close to the bed.

"News to me," his mom griped, but she was smiling at him, so Jordan didn't worry too much.

"Mom… I'm trying to have a significant moment here," Denny whined. He turned to Jordan and rolling his eyes, said, "Sometimes you just want to trade them in for a new set, right?"   As he realized what he had just said to whom, Denny went very pale and started to stutter apologies.

"Hey, I think trading mine in for a new set is going to work pretty great," Jordan replied as he grinned up at Terence and Michael, who were both wiping tears away while smiling right back at him.  He looked over at Denny again and whispered, "You know you don't really have to be my boyfriend.  I was just teasing you because of your parents saying stuff."

"The only person that could stop me from being your boyfriend is you, cutie," Denny vowed sincerely.  "You might not want a dumb jock."

"Yes, I do," Jordan blurted and then blushed intensely.  "I mean, uhm… I'm pretty sure your grades are better than mine, so I don't think you're dumb at all," Jordan mumbled as he stared down at his lap.  "You're the one that won't want me, 'cause I look like a nerd without the grades, and I'm just a nobody, and I'm only a freshman, and…."  He shut up although his mouth didn't close as Denny leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"You do not look like a nerd," Dennis objected.  "First of all, no glasses, second, no pocket protector.  As for grades, you can get a tutor.  Next, everybody's a nobody as a freshman; we can fix that.  Last, you might be a freshman, but you're the cutest freshman in the world, and you're my freshman," the bigger teen whispered softly into Jordan's ear.

"He called you cute stuff when he was carrying you to my car earlier while you were unconscious, just so you know," Michael informed his new son with a smile.  "If they call you cute when they don't think you can hear them, they mean it."

"You carried me?" Jordan squeaked and blushed.  "You must think I'm a scrawny little…."

"I think you're perfect," Denny cut him off quickly.  "Besides, you're not little.  You're fun sized."  The blushing intensified on both boys at that point.

"That will be quite enough talk along those lines for the time being," Mr. Lindell said firmly.  "Time and place boys.  Wait to flirt until you are on a date somewhere that isn't so unromantic, not to mention not around all your parents. We may be supportive, but that doesn't mean we are ready to see it yet."

"Yes, Papa," Jordan agreed with a huge smile.  At his new boyfriend's confused expression, Jordan began introductions.  "This is my papa, and this is my daddy, and here's my grandma."

"Mrs. Wallace?" Dennis gulped.

"Given the circumstances of the day, Dennis, I will not count points off your chemistry paper if you turn it in tomorrow as you missed class today," the teacher said sternly.  "If you need more time on it because of… reasons, I suggest you ask my grandson to ask me for that.  I'm less likely to say no to him."

"Mom, are you turning into an old softie?" the school nurse asked with a grin.

"I told you I wanted grandchildren, Michael.  Lord knows it's taken you and Terence long enough to get me one," she replied and then leaned over and kissed Jordan on the forehead. "At least you got me the best there is when you did."

"Well, it wasn't for a lack of trying," Mr. Lindell responded.  "I meant legally," he gushed at everyone's looks and gasps.  "You people have dirty minds," he complained as everyone except Mrs. Wallace laughed.

"Well, we did…  OOOWWWWW OOWWWWW MOOOOOM!!!" Michael yelped as he was pulled from the room by his ear by his mother.

"Not in front of my grandson," the woman scolded.  "At least give him an hour to get acclimated to having a boyfriend before you embarrass him in front of them."

"But you didn't," Michael whined.

"You and Terence had grown up together," she explained with a stern look.  "You two were the last ones to figure out that you were a couple." She was still talking to him, but the door shut as they also moved too far down the hallway. 

"So, now you know to watch your mouth around your grandma," Mr. Lindell said with an embarrassed smile.