Sanctuary: Sequel to Dream Catcher

By D. Jeremy Doraido

David continues to have a trust issue eventhough his abusive stepfather and mother died in a car crash. Mark does his best as a foster parent to remain calm and explain his few rules. Then a deaf child named Freddie comes to live with them for a short stay after his great-uncle is injured. Mark feels a need to carry pen and paper, but David has begun sign language at church. Freddie loves to joke using a play on words to confuse David. Freddie learns about Jesus for the first time, not even knowing the correct sign. The two boys become close, much like real brothers.

"Heartwarming tale of a boy whose physical and spiritual needs are met by his foster father. Describes the boy's background of abuse and abandonment by his step-father. Honestly portrays the feelings of his foster father." Rebecca French Day, BSW, LSW

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Feb 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781483458168

Book preview

impact.

PROLOGUE

Tell me I’m not the only one who seldom reads this until they’ve almost finished a book. A word from the author, read it first, please. You won’t understand what has happened to David in the months between DREAM CATCHER and SANCTUARY if you don’t. You’ve been warned. DJD July 2016

The first day of school was a new beginning.

David had to get used to all new teachers and new classes. At least his old friends Bobby and the twins were with him. Then there was his name. He felt like a new person. He was Holbrook officially again thanks to Mr. Mark, Virgil Miller his social worker and the Courts. Some of his teachers thought he was new to the school. David still expected Mr. Frank to appear and yell at him or smack him across the face for using some other name, Dad’s name. Never had Mr. Frank been anything but the man Mom had married after Dad died in the ocean. Certainly not his father! Or even step-father! Unfortunately Mr. Whitehorse wasn’t really his dad either. He thought of him that way. And he was his foster-dad. So that made him Dad.

Thanks to Dad he advanced to eighth grade. It had meant giving up some of his summer vacation going to school at Benedict Hall. But he was ready for the new year and felt more confident in English and history.

David even got to ride the bus again with other kids whose parents worked and lived at Benedict Hall. Though David wanted to attend the private school where Dad worked, he knew it was more money than Dad or the State could afford.

The past few months still made David cry at night for Mom and the horrible time with ‘that man’. Both were gone now. Everyone was gone except for his aunt and uncle who didn’t want a teenager in their lives. Or elderly grandparents and a great-aunt. The three of them loved him, but couldn’t begin to give him a proper home. It was hard to see them again and think of them as family. Actually Mr. Whitehorse’s parents were more like grandparents should be. They had decided to move back East when they realized how much they missed their son. And now, they had a grandson on which to lavish love and gifts.

Dad arranged for Ms. Judy Nolte from next door, to meet him after the bus ride home since some days he was running late. If something happened David could also go to Mrs. Haven across the hall. She was a housewife with three little kids. Ms. Judy worked from home. Both ladies would tell Mr. Mark if they weren’t going to be around. The first day of school Ms. Judy was working at home on some projects. David had only heard her explain her job once, but he really didn’t care to know more. Something about buying stuff for some company. It sounded boring.

CHAPTER 1

Return

Dad arrived home from work while David and Ms. Judy were sitting at the table having a glass of milk and some cookies made by Ms. Delores, who had been his social worker before Dad started dating her. Ms. Judy excused herself when he appeared, saying she had work to do. Dad thanked her for staying with David.

Why can’t I come home alone like other kids my age? I feel like a baby. Does Mrs. Nolte have to sit me?

I make the rules not your friends’ parents, Mr. Mark calmly replied as he removed his coat and tie.

It’s a dumb rule. I have a key. What do you think I’m going to do alone?

Would you rather come to my classroom and start your homework while I complete my day?

That’s even dumber.

It’s your choice.

Why?

I won’t have one of my boys or my future son living as a latch key child. Mr. Mark turned and smiled. You’re too important to me.

I still feel stupid.

Mr. Mark got a glass of milk for himself. How was your first day, Son? Mine was hectic. New names to remember and several new teachers who needed direction. I should work on lesson plans tonight.

My day was pretty good, Dad. I’m with most of my friends. I had to explain my name change. They seemed to remember the accident and didn’t ask too many questions. I think they were afraid of upsetting me.

David was still frustrated by the discussion though his expression didn’t indicate it. But his anger was evident in his quick verbal response.

And how do you feel? Are you glad to be back?

It’s okay to be at school again. Especially when I understand the work. He didn’t want to mention to Dad about attending Benedict Hall, instead of the public school where it was noisy and so many people were rude. Especially the bullies. I have work to do, too. And some forms for you to fill out. But they can wait until you have time. Maybe after dinner. Are you on duty in the dining room tonight?

Yes. We should be at the same table as last year. At least I know all of the boys. Dad smiled at David. How are Delores’ cookies?

She’s a good cook, Dad, David said, watching Dad remove one from the cookie jar. Try a couple.

David wondered what he really thought about Ms. Delores. The two of them went out together almost every Saturday. Even some week nights when she wasn’t tired from working. She had them over for dinner a few times. He was sure Dad hated being back to a full time day. Summer had been fun and relaxing even if Dad taught a few weeks and David attended school each morning during July and August. At least he had been at Benedict Hall with great kids and teachers, thanks to Dad who got him a scholarship to attend. The most fun was the pow-wow where he saw all kinds of people in such neat outfits. Especially Dad’s which his step-mom had made. Ms. Delores seemed to enjoy herself. She kept smiling up at Dad.

You’re right, they are good cookies. Actually they’re my favorite. I only mentioned it one time to Delores.

David smiled at Dad and chuckled. Did the man think he hadn’t noticed how they acted together?

What’s wrong? Dad asked, rolling up his sleeves to expose his naturally dark arms. Don’t you like oatmeal butterscotch?

Dad, I’m not a dumb little kid, David replied, laughing.

Dad gave him a stupid expression. She is nice.

You are hopeless, Dad. What am I going to do with you?

Mark started laughing. I’d better get to work.

One question, Dad, David said, following him out of the kitchen, the door squeaking behind them. I was wondering about my stuff at home. Like my bike. I sure would like to ride with the other guys. May I have my things? Do they belong to someone else? Maybe the bank since Mr. Fulton owed so much money.

Dad stopped in the living room and turned to face him with a serious expression. All debts were paid with insurance money. There was a large policy on your mother. Mr. Fulton took it out last year. Your mom also had a smaller one where she worked. Your bike is there when you want it along with other personal items. We were wondering when you would ask. Virgil and I didn’t want to rush you into making decisions.

Oh. And the business?

Gone.

That was Dad’s. At least half of it. So what about the house? Did he lose that, too?

Your birth parents’ lawyer, who serves as your financial guardian, wants to get it emptied and on the market if . . .

David cut him off. I don’t want to see it again!

But your bike?

That’s all!

Maybe this weekend?

I’ll just get my stuff. And some pictures. Who else would want them? There was a box in the back room closet, David replied, tight lipped like he was going to cry. I’d better start my homework, sir.

Are you okay?

Sure, Dad. But as he walked back the hall alone to his room, he began to cry. Oh, Mom, why did you have to marry that man? We were fine alone. Dad left you with money. And you had a good job. Maybe I could have even gone to Benedict Hall like I did this summer.

David was deep in thought as they walked to dinner. The day had started out so good. Now he felt the hurt all over again, hating that he was an orphan. A poor one at that. Would he always be a ward of the state? What if Mr. Whitehorse didn’t want him around if he got married to Ms. Delores? Surely they would like to have their own kids like Mr. Fulton and Mom.

Are you hungry, David?

Maybe a little, sir.

You’re quiet. Is it school work? Do you need my help?

I’m fine. If only it was dark to hide the tears forming in his heart.

David, I know you well enough to realize when something is wrong. Won’t you tell me, please.

Just tired. Then he began to cry, trembling all over.

Mr. Whitehorse stopped and put his arm around David’s shoulders. What’s wrong, Son?

Why are you bothering with me? I’m just a broke little kid. You can’t afford to adopt me. Why are you even pretending you’re going . . . You want your own life. Your own wife and kids. I’m in the way, again.

David, if you had nothing I would still want you as my son.

All I have is my bike.

There is a large insurance settlement from your mom and a small one plus the sale of the house. Unless you would prefer to keep it and rent it out for the time being. That’s what your lawyer wants to know. You aren’t poor by any means. There will be a trust fund for your future once everything is final. And a bank account for you to draw off. Mark paused to look at him, the tears running freely down David’s face. Do you believe me, Son? I love you. I’m not going to throw you out. The adoption will go through once all the legal paperwork is complete. I told Mr. Gilbert to send me the bill. Mr. Whitehorse handed him a tissue from his pocket. Come on and smile.

"Is that true?

Like I told Delores, I never lie to my boys.

Ms. Delores agree to go with them on Saturday to get his bike and pictures. David walked through the house remembering all the really good times with Mom and Dad. It was almost as if he could see them. It had been the only home he had known. Then there were the bad times with Mr. Fulton. He was sure the man was waiting in the next room he entered, ready to whip out his belt and attack. The man was even in the kitchen where they had the last encounter, David being thrown out into the rain. That made him shiver all over.

Mr. Whitehorse entered. Did you want something out here?

Just checking. There isn’t anything of Dad’s left. David looked in the refrigerator which stood open. Empty.

Your aunt and grandmother saw to the food.

David nodded. He wondered what Mom was doing that last day. Her presence was everywhere from her coconut smelling hand lotion on the back of the counter to the dead violets on the window sill. Obviously no one had wanted them or given them a drink.

I’m going to go see where . . . I don’t know what they did with my bedroom furniture. Maybe the basement.

I could look while you check for other things you may want. We can take it back for your room. I’ll clear out my office in case I need another bedroom.

Why?

I’m still a foster parent. Virgil may need me for an emergency.

Then . . .

I’ll still be there for you, soon to be a legal parent. He smiled down at David. You know, I think you’ve gotten taller since June. Your jeans look shorter.

Maybe a little, David replied, with a weak smile. But I’ll never be as tall as you.

You can’t be sure.

I know what your dad calls you.

Stands Tall, Mark replied, rolling his eyes. I hated that name almost as much as dressing up.

Isn’t it culturally enlightening? David replied, with a chuckle. Ms. Delores thought it was cute when you were introduced at the pow-wow. And she loved your costume.

It’s called regalia. She wouldn’t have known the English translation of my name if Dad hadn’t told her. Mark broke into a grin and shook his head. Cute? Hardly.

She seems to really like you. Mark glanced around to make sure they were alone. She is nice. Forget what I used to think.

Our secret, sir.

While David went to his mother’s room, Mr. Mark went down to the basement. First he located some boxes with David’s name. Books and games. He found David’s furniture, but they would have to come back with a truck for the large pieces. Perhaps he could borrow one from a friend. He knew several men who had offered theirs other times, like when he moved into the apartment at Benedict Hall. Actually, he hadn’t gotten rid of everything that was his wife’s. Some things were just too personal to part with from his marriage to Paula. And he didn’t think Delores really wanted to know about them. At least not then. Maybe when they got closer he would share about the baby rocker Paula used to nurse their son. Or the doll house his foster daughter loved when he bought it for their first Christmas together. Both were in storage in the basement of the apartment in his locked unit.

David went through Mom’s jewelry box and thought about all the pretty things Dad had bought her, especially the locket with their wedding picture and one of himself as a baby. Mr. Frank only bought her a string of pearls, but they were gone so he didn’t have to deal with them. Probably sold like everything else of value when