Parental Admonitions Jack and Ken commenced their search for any sign of Paul. But everything was still and dark and there wasn’t a sign of human life anywhere about. After about twenty minutes of futile searching, the two boys decided to leave and go to Jones Street. Coming to the corner, Ken noticed a lonely figure hovering against a wall a short distance away. He called his friend’s attention to it and Jack said, “Most likely a drunk. But let’s go and see. It may be someone needing assistance.” As they neared the figure, both boys remarked that there was something familiar about it. Jack began to feel a little uneasy about that lonely figure leaning against the wall and he walked faster, Ken at his side. Soon they were both running. “It’s Paul!” screamed Jack, almost hysterically. The two friends ran over to Paul and caught hold of him on either side. “Paul! Paul!” whispered Jack frantically. “How are you? What happened to you?” Paul shook his head, trying to shake away the mist from his eyes and the dullness out of his head. Ken whispered, “Let’s take him right home, Jack. Don’t bother him with questions now.” Jack nodded and agreed. He was almost in tears at the helpless sight of his chum. Putting their arms around their friend, they started to lead him home. Very gradually, Paul regained his balance and self assurance. “All right,” he muttered, “I can walk by myself now.” But just as soon as the boys removed their supporting arms, Paul tottered and almost fell. Jack immediately put an arm around his shoulder. A short while later, Paul finally walked by himself. “Some mess I got myself into,” he mumbled. Jack smiled, happy that his friend was all right again. “Now don’t talk,” he said. “Save your energy.” Paul grinned to himself thinking of how nearly he got away. They came to his house and Jack whispered, “How will we wake your father up? It’s quite late already.” “What do you want to wake him up for?” inquired Paul. “He has to treat your head, fellow. You’re all bloody and messy.” “Don’t bother him, Jack. I’ll wash up myself and let him see it tomorrow.” “Nothing doing,” insisted Jack. “You have to be taken care of by a doctor right away. And it’s better your father does it than anyone else.” “All right, but don’t tell him what happened. Just say I fell.” Jack ran up the step to the porch and rang the Jack thought for a few seconds what to say. “Er, Dr. Morrison,” he began, “don’t be alarmed but er—” The doctor was impatient and he cried, “Well, well?” “You see, Paul was hurt and—” “Where is he?” was the direct and decisive question. “I thought he was in his room and asleep long ago.” They went around to the back of the porch. The doctor looked at Paul’s wound and said, “Let’s go into the office and I’ll fix you up.” The boys followed. At the door the doctor turned to them and said, “You go home, fellows; it’s late.” Jack compressed his lips and gritted his teeth. He wanted to ask if the wound was serious or if there was anything he could do to help. But the doctor seemed not to want them around. He waited until Paul and his father entered the house and closed the door. Ken whispered, “All right, Jack, let’s go. There is nothing more we can do here.” Crossing the street, they separated and each went home to sleep and to think over everything that happened that evening. Early in the morning, Jack got ready to leave But Jack shook his head, kissed his mother on the cheek and ran out of the house. He was anxious to see Paul, and, as it was too early to ring the bell, he walked back and forth like a sentinel in front of the Morrison house. Counting every minute, he finally decided at eight-thirty sharp, that it was all right to ring the bell now. He knew that Dr. Morrison’s office hours began at nine, and that usually he had his breakfast between eight-fifteen and a quarter of nine. His heart beat wildly as he heard footsteps coming to open the door. “Good morning, Jack,” Mrs. Morrison greeted him. “What are you doing here so early?” “Good morning, Mrs. Morrison. I just want to see Paul.” “Paul is a little tardy in getting out of bed this morning,” she told him as they entered the dining room. “Have a seat. He ought to be down any minute.” “Good morning, Dr. Morrison.” “Good morning, Jack. Did you have breakfast yet?” “Breakfast!” Jack clasped his hand to his forehead. “I completely forgot about it.” Dr. Morrison laughed heartily, but his wife couldn’t see the joke and she exclaimed, “You Dr. Morrison laughed and Jack shook his head. “No,” he replied meekly. “I guess I wasn’t hungry.” “You’re going to have breakfast right now,” insisted Mrs. Morrison. “Sit here,” she ordered the boy and then she went to the kitchen. Dr. Morrison shrewdly remarked, with a twinkle in his eye, “If you can forget your breakfast, Jack, I can imagine what happened last night.” Jack moved to the edge of his seat. “How is he?” he inquired anxiously. “Hurt bad?” “Oh, I guess he will live to get into plenty of more trouble. Nothing to worry about.” Mrs. Morrison returned and placed silverware and a plate in front of Jack. “Your bacon and eggs will be ready right away,” she said. “In the meanwhile, have this orange juice.” Just then Paul came downstairs. He was smiling and looked as though nothing had happened. “Good morning, everybody,” he called cheerfully. His greetings were returned. Kissing his mother on the cheek, she noticed the bandage on the back of his head. “What happened?” she demanded. “Nothing, Mother. I just fell, that’s all.” She looked at her husband who was smiling. “I wonder,” she said skeptically. Paul and Jack looked at each other and grinned guiltily. “Well, sit down,” remarked Dr. Morrison, addressing his son. Weighed down by a guilty conscience, the boys ate their breakfast in silence. Jack waited for Paul to finish. They noted with dismay that Dr. Morrison, although through with his morning meal, sat by the table and read the paper. Paul said, “I’m ready, Jack, let’s go.” Dr. Morrison rose with the boys and took them under the arm. “Where to?” he asked. Paul squirmed. “Just out to the porch,” he answered. “Are you in any particular hurry? Something very important to talk about?” “No,” his son answered hesitantly. “That’s fine. Do you mind coming into my office for a couple of minutes?” Jack thinking that Dr. Morrison meant only Paul, drew away. But the doctor said to him, “You, too, Jack. Come along.” Dr. Morrison sat down at his desk and pointed the boys to chairs. For a moment there was silence. “Well,” remarked the doctor, “now tell me what this is all about.” The boys fidgeted. “What what’s about, Dad?” “Now don’t pretend ignorance,” commented the doctor. “You know very well what I mean.” Paul turned to his companion and said, “You tell him, Jack.” Jack felt himself getting hot all over and becoming red in the face. “No, you tell him yourself, Paul.” Dr. Morrison smiled at their uneasiness. Paul said, “Dad, I don’t want to tell you any falsehoods and I can’t tell you now what it is all about. You wouldn’t understand. Please don’t ask me.” “I don’t want to pry into your personal affairs and have you tell me things you don’t want,” said Dr. Morrison, “but getting a bump on the head like that is very serious.” He paused and the boys kept silent. The doctor continued, “I have treated a number of such cases and I can testify to the fact that the bumping was done by an expert.” “It really isn’t much,” Paul assured his father. “And I promise to be more careful in the future.” “All right, son. You had better be—and you, too, Jack—if you want to keep a whole head on your shoulders.” “Yes, Dad.” Grinning, the boys rose and left the office, with Dr. Morrison shaking his head and wondering what they were up to now. |