Home of the Gray Dog - Segment 01

Chapter 01

Grace Larson, a member of Westbrook's town council, knew if anyone could help, it would be William Walker. After receiving his invitation the previous day, she was visiting his home for elders, Maison du Renard Rouge, to plead for his financial aide in resolving the town's current crisis.
         While enjoying a light lunch in Walker's fourth-floor apartment, Grace brought up the subject of a new orphanage. "Walker, the current one in town is a disgrace and definitely a health hazard."
         Samantha, the woman who managed Walker's home, spoke up before her boss could. "Doesn't the town have a budget for upkeep of the place?" She looked over at the man sitting on the sofa next to her. "Sorry, Walker, I didn't mean to interrupt."
         "Interrupt away, Sam. I was curious about the same thing." Walker, a self-made multi-billionaire and philanthropist, knew how tight finances might be for small towns. This was the first time, however, any of the town council had approached him, and he wanted to learn all the facts before making any type of decision.
         "Westbrook has had to replace the high school that recently burned down," Grace explained. "That and having to hire more people to run the plows during last winter's heavier-than-normal snowstorms left little room for the upkeep of the orphanage or any of our other older buildings."
         Walker felt guilty for not realizing the nearby town could have used his help. An idea to solve this problem and honor Hannah Edgeworth at the same time started to form in his active mind. Walker had vowed never to forget this murdered child from the 19th century after her small bones were found a week earlier in a cavern beneath his mansion. He quickly asked Grace, "Can you set up a meeting with the rest of the town council? I need to know if they mind my taking over the responsibility for those children and having a new orphanage built out here."
         Grace shared an amused look with Samantha before replying, "Would this evening be too soon?" They both knew of Walker's love for children, evidenced by making two youngsters his wards after the murder of their mother the previous year. Grace had already broached the subject of asking him for help with the town council that morning.
         A few hours later, with the sun disappearing over the horizon, Grace returned to the mansion, accompanied by three of Westbrook's elected town leaders. As they walked through the front door, Samantha greeted them. She was used to newcomers being in awe of the size of the mansion and the beauty of the large entrance room, recently remodeled after the bomb explosion and resulting fire months earlier.
         "Walker asked if you'd all come up to his apartment. He's eager to get your thoughts on some ideas he has." With these softly spoken words, Samantha guided them to the glass elevator on the left side of the entrance room.
         What awaited them on entering the apartment was not what they expected. The three male town leaders had not met Walker before this evening, although his home for forgotten and abused elders had been in existence for a couple years. Aware of his immense wealth, they assumed a pompous elderly man would greet them. Instead, Walker came forward, hand outstretched in welcome, a friendly smile on his face. The traditional dark suit and red power tie were not his style. Walker was casually dressed in khaki slacks, light blue shirt, and shoes without socks, making him look even younger than his 50, soon to be 51, years.
         "Welcome to my home," he said, in a pleasant baritone voice. "I've wanted to invite you all long before now, but time just kept getting away from me." Walker motioned everyone to find a seat, while a young waitress from the first floor's dining room took their orders for drinks or coffee. After a few minutes of small talk among the men, Grace looked over at Samantha. Seeing her nod, Grace decided it was time to bring up the subject of why they were there. "Walker, are you serious about wanting to build an orphanage out here? Why?"
         Walker stood up and walked to the large window at the far end of his living room. When he turned to face them, any sign of good humor was gone, replaced by sadness. "Grace, we found the body recently of a little girl on our property, or rather her bones. She was the daughter of the man who built this mansion back in the 19th century and had been brutally murdered by her mother."
         Samantha knew how deeply this had affected him but let Walker tell the story in his own way. Little Hannah Edgeworth could have been the child Walker never had and probably never would. Much to the regret of many women who knew him, he seemed to be a confirmed bachelor with no thoughts of marriage. His two wards, Joshua and Sue Beth Wilson, were special to him, of course, but Samantha knew Hannah had touched something deep inside this gentle and caring man. She often saw him standing near the weeping willow tree next to Hannah's grave that contained her few pitiful bones, just staring off in the distance. She also knew of his vow at the time of her funeral that he would find a way to honor the previously unloved child.
         After Walker finished telling the story to Grace and the men, all four sitting shocked and wordless, Samantha asked the obvious question of them. "How many children do you currently have under the town's care?"
         Samuel Hobson, a banker by trade, was the first to speak. "There are seven children of different ages. Right now, we've temporarily fostered five of them out to families in town. I stress the word temporary, though." The portly and kind-hearted banker ran a hand through his thinning gray hair in frustration. "If something isn't done soon, we may have to send these children to another orphanage, probably to Springfield." This city was about 50 miles from Westbrook, to the west and a long ride over country roads. "Most of us have grown fond of the kids and would hate to see them go so far away."
         "We really can't afford to pay these foster parents more than a stipend, and it's putting a financial burden on them." This came from George White, the owner of the town's grocery store and the youngest on the council. He was the one who had insisted on the removal of the children from the old orphanage after part of the ceiling in the kitchen crashed to the floor, almost hitting the volunteer cook.
         The third man, Winston Rogers, nodded. "This left only two kids still in the old building, but no one felt they wanted to take them in, even for a short time." He stopped there, offering no further explanation and tightly closed his thin lips against saying anything more.
         Samantha frowned at this seemingly callous behavior and asked sharply, "Why? There's no excuse for leaving children in such danger."
         "Miss Ward...Samantha," said George, the young man plainly in awe of the beautiful redhead sitting on the sofa across from his chair, "Michael is blind, and there is a little girl from Belize who doesn't speak or understand any English, only Q'eqchi or K'ekchi'. We're not sure how to spell it or even pronounce the words, though I've spent quite a bit of time Googling on it lately."
         "Not a problem," Walker spoke before George could add anything else. "We can take care of both of them here." Samantha grinned at the surprised look on George's face. She knew Walker felt she could handle any problem he gave her, even taking care of these two children. He loved challenges and thought everyone around him was the same way.
         "Of course we can," she said, mentally going through the list of guests and staff who might also volunteer to help in the children's care. "Have them ready for us tomorrow morning, and someone will come to the orphanage to get them." Samantha then leaned back to bask in Walker's warm pleased glance. She knew any problems caused by these two children would be worth that look from him.
         The rest of the evening went by with plans for what Walker had to do in order to replace the old orphanage. Jack Notting, the mansion's "idea man," eventually joined them and took copious notes. He knew he would need to cut through miles of legal red tape before establishing an orphanage. Like Samantha, he also hoped not to let down Walker, his boss and friend.

Chapter 02

Walker, standing silently outside the town's orphanage, stared in dismay at the building in front of him. Even from yards away, he could see and smell the moldy, rotting wood of the dilapidated structure. This death-trap is home to children? Walker thought to himself in horror. He watched as Grace came toward him. She had been standing by her car when she spotted Walker's green and white SUV. Until seeing it, she wasn't sure Walker really meant what he'd promised the night before.
         "Are you ready for this, Walker?" Grace asked, knowing what was waiting for them inside. "I'm glad you took my advice and wore warm clothes. It's rather chilly inside since the furnace broke down." The slightly-heavyset woman had a knit sweater over her dress and noticed Walker wore a thick wool cardigan sweater.
         "I'm ready. Let's go get those kids." Walker headed toward the front door and held it open for Grace. Inside, he stopped in shock at the sight of the room. Hospital green paint peeled off the walls of the building built back in the mid 1950s. Knowing that paint from that time might contain lead, deadly if eaten by inquisitive children, Walker was amazed no one had died in all the years of the orphanage's operation. The carpet underneath their feet was falling apart and smelled from years of spilled food and accidents dripping from unchanged dirty diapers.
         "My God, Grace, why didn't someone tell me about this earlier?" Walker wasn't blaming Grace, but she felt the sting of his angry question anyway. She didn't answer but silently led the way out of the room and down a long dingy corridor.
         The doors of the corridor stood open, revealing bedrooms, now empty of both children and furniture. Walker peeked into one room and saw a small area with a fly-specked window looking out on an untended dirt yard. The only things left in the room were shabby pink curtains. There had been an attempt at making the room more cheerful, but it failed miserably. Walker could almost feel the hopelessness of the child who had once lived in this room. He was glad he'd convinced Samantha not to come with him today for he knew this place would be too much for his tender-hearted friend.
         Continuing down the corridor, they passed the kitchen, site of the caved-in ceiling, but didn't go in. Finally, Grace opened a door to a room at the very back of the building and let Walker go in first. An elderly woman, Stella Farrell, the only remaining volunteer willing to come into the dilapidated building, came forward to meet them.
         She was nervous about meeting the man everyone hoped would help the children and kept unconsciously pushing strands of dyed blonde hair back from her face. "Mr. Walker?" At his nod, she moved out of his way so he could see who was also in the room. "I'd like you to meet Michael and Itzam." Turning to the two silent children sitting on wooden chairs behind her, she continued, "Children, this is Mr. Walker. He'll be taking both of you to live with him for a while."
         Noting the fright in the little girl's eyes, Walker moved slowly toward the children. "Hello, children. I'm so glad to finally meet you." His calm words did nothing to ease the girl, but the boy smiled hesitantly.
         Michael turned his head toward where he heard the comforting voice and held out his small hand. "Hello, Mr. Walker. I'm Michael Kincaid and glad to meet you, too." This 10-year-old boy, blind since birth, felt a larger warm hand grip his. Walker kept Michael's hand in his when he knelt on the floor a short distance from the girl.
         "Hello, Itzam." Walker spoke very softly to the child, who looked so small and vulnerable in front of him. She was around five years of age, but no one knew exactly. When Itzam shrunk back, Walker turned to Grace but stayed kneeling on the floor. "What's her story, Grace? Why is she so afraid of me?"
         Grace came further into the room and gently pulled the little girl to stand next to her. "She was brought from Belize to eventually be adopted by a young couple. The Whitakers were new to town here and not well known by any of us." Without thinking, she started running her fingers through Itzam's wavy, dark brown hair like she did at home when her daughter, as a young child, had been upset or stressed. This seemed to help, and Walker watched the fright in the little girl's big brown eyes slowly recede.
         "Where are the Whitakers now?" Still speaking softly, Walker asked, not taking his own eyes off the child. Itzam gave the world's smallest smile, but he felt fully rewarded by it. Not for nothing did his employees and friends consider him a marshmallow softie where children were concerned.
         Grace, having missed the miniscule smile, didn't understand the sudden wide grin on his face. She decided to answer his question and wonder about that smile later on. "They disappeared in the middle of the night. When Stella came in one morning about a month ago, she found Itzam sitting outside in the doorway, almost frozen from the cold and clutching a small cardboard suitcase."
         Seeing Walker's grin had disappeared as suddenly as it appeared, she went on. "We tried to find the Whitakers, but they had left their rented place without any forwarding address. We then tried to find the organization that had sent Itzam here for adoption without success. We also contacted the American Embassy in Belize for help in finding out who the child was and where she'd come from, but it was just another dead end."
         Walker let go of Michael's hand and stood to face the two women. "Did the Whitakers at least give an explanation?"
         Stella pulled a paper out of her dress pocket and handed it to him. "This was found inside the suitcase along with two changes of clothes, a toothbrush, and a well-worn child's book in a language we could only assume is K'ekchi."
         Walker unfolded the wrinkled paper and read aloud, "Her name is Itzam Tzul, she's about five, we think, and is a Mayan from Belize. We can't take care of her any more. We don't understand what Itzam wants, and she cries all the time. Please forgive us and find her a good home." He refolded the paper and put it into his sweater pocket. "Well, I don't know about forgiving them, but you can be sure you've found her a good home with us."
         Michael, who had remained quiet while Walker read the note, now spoke. "Itzam sings nice. Maybe once she gets to know you, she'll sing for you, too." He held out his hand, and the girl shyly took it in hers. Up until then, she had not said a word but now spoke a sentence or two in her native tongue, getting a bit frustrated when no one answered her.
         "I'm sorry, Sweet Pea," said Walker, "but I don't know what you're saying. However, we have a professor at the mansion who probably can help us." Professor Logan had recently started tutoring Sue Beth and Joshua and would enjoy the challenge of learning a new language. At least Walker hoped he would. Even though Itzam didn't know what Walker was saying, his tone of voice was reassurance enough to calm her agitation.
         She and Michael waited silently to see what Walker would do next.

Chapter 03

What Walker did next was again to take Michael's hand in his and head toward the door. He motioned for Stella to bring Itzam since the child was comfortable with the older woman. At the door, he looked back and saw Grace coming toward him carrying the cardboard suitcase and a large paper bag.
         "Here, Grace, let me get those," he said. After turning Michael over to her, he picked up the two items, surprised by their slight weight. It saddened Walker to know inside were the meager belongings of the children.
         He left the room and walked back down the corridor, followed by Grace walking beside Michael and Stella holding Itzam's hand. When they arrived outside, they could feel a drastic drop in the temperature. The warm spring-like weather of the past few weeks threatened to once again turn into a more typical late February snowstorm. Inches of fresh snow already were on the ground.
         "Hurry, Stella," called Grace, almost running with Michael to the SUV. With his longer legs, Walker had arrived there first and unlocked the doors. Throwing the paper bag and suitcase inside, he next helped Michael up into the back seat, buckling his seat belt securely. When Stella arrived with the shivering little girl, Walker gently picked Itzam up and put her on the seat next to Michael.
         While he buckled her in, he couldn't help but notice her shivering was more from fright than from the cold. "It's going to be okay, Sweet Pea," he whispered, "you're going to be okay from now on. I promise." Even though she didn't understand the words, his tone of voice calmed her. This time, she rewarded him with a somewhat bigger but still uneasy smile. It would take time, he realized, for her to learn to trust strange adults.
         Just as Walker was getting ready to say his good-byes to the two women, he spotted George White driving up. After parking next to Walker's SUV, the young man got out of his own car and joined the three adults. In his hands, he carried a large box.
         "I was afraid I'd miss you, Walker." George looked into the back seat of the SUV and saw the two children sitting quietly. "It's not much, but I wanted to give the kids something of their own to take with them." He handed the box to Walker, waved at the children, and returned to his car without another word.
         "Hey, George!" yelled Walker, before the young man could leave. "Come out to the mansion next week for dinner with Samantha and me. I'll call and let you know what day." George nodded that he'd heard and quickly drove away.
         "Well, ladies. I guess I'd better be off, too." Walker looked up at the now heavily falling snow. "Will you be able to get home okay?" With the assurance they could and after seeing them walk back into the deserted building, he got into the SUV.
         Turning around, he smiled at the two children to ask, "You ready?"
         Michael nodded while Itzam grabbed hold of the boy's hand in sudden panic. She had just then realized this tall stranger was taking her away from the only place that was somewhat familiar to her. Her terror was almost palpable, but Walker knew there was nothing he could do about it. Starting the vehicle, he pulled away from the orphanage and headed out of town toward his mansion.
         As the SUV made its way through the blinding snow, Walker spoke while never taking his eyes off the almost invisible road. "Michael, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself? Maybe hearing your voice will calm Itzam a bit."
         "Mr. Walker, there's not much to tell, but I'll try." In the rear-view mirror, Walker could see the boy running fingers through his straight blond hair, his sightless eyes staring ahead as he decided where to begin. "I was raised by mom, Mrs. Ruth Kincaid, who worked as a teller at the bank. Mom told me my dad disappeared right after I was born." Michael's voice lowered. "She said it was something about not being able to handle a deformed baby. Me, I guess."
         Walker interrupted, angered by the other man's cruelty. "Michael, you are not deformed. I never want to hear you say that again or even think it. Promise me that."
         "I promise." The child sat up straighter, and his voice strengthened at Walker's order. "Anyway, Mom and I were doing all right without him until about a year ago."
         "What happened then?" The road to the mansion was just ahead on the right, and Walker slowed the SUV to make the sharp turn. However, he was listening carefully to everything Michael was telling him.
         "She was driving home from work when a drunk driver hit her and killed her, they said instantly." A tremulous smile came over his face. "So, you see, there really isn't much to tell. After Mom died, her boss at the bank, Mr. Hobson, took me to the orphanage where I've been ever since." Michael turned toward Itzam at a surprised gasp from her. She was not listening to him, but looking out the window.
         She had just caught sight of the mansion as Walker drove the SUV down the long driveway. Standing by the open front door, Itzam saw two other children and a woman with red hair. The little girl was jumping up and down in excitement at seeing the SUV. The boy, a bit taller and older than the girl, was as excited but trying to act grown up while they waited to greet Walker's new charges.
         Thus, in the middle of a raging snowstorm, the first of the children who eventually would live in the still-to-be-built orphanage arrived. More would come, and all had stories to share.

Chapter 04

Coming into the mansion out of the freezing cold, Michael immediately experienced many sensations. He first heard the sound of footsteps coming toward him. They were light and evenly spaced, telling him a woman was slowly approaching where he stood by the now closed front door. The firm masculine hand holding his disappeared, replaced by a smaller, much softer one. While he drew in the subtle fragrance of an elusive floral perfume, Michael listened to a soft voice that reminded him of his loving mother.
         "Welcome, Itzam and Michael. I'm Samantha and these two pests impatiently waiting to meet you are Joshua and Sue Beth." The voice had a smiling undertone to it, and Michael knew she actually cared for the children she called pests. The laughter of the man he already knew as Walker confirmed this impression.
         Michael felt Itzam take his other hand in hers and winced when she grasped it tightly in fright. He turned toward the woman to say, "Samantha, Itzam doesn't understand English. She's very scared right now."
         "I know, Michael, I know." While the woman spoke these soft caring words, he felt Itzam's hand leaving his.
         A younger male voice, probably the boy she had called Joshua, was the next one Michael heard. "Don't worry about Itzam. When Walker told us about her yesterday, I started studying Q'eqchi with Professor Logan." The professor had quickly learned that Joshua and Sue Beth were exceptionally intelligent children. Both had a higher than normal I.Q. and an innate ability to learn languages quickly. Already, Joshua was fluent in French, Spanish, and Italian with Sue Beth almost as good.
         Joshua said a few words in Q'eqchi, very slowly and carefully. For the first time since Michael had known her, he listened to an excited and definitely delighted Itzam rattle off a few sentences in the same language.
         Close by, the little girl introduced as Sue Beth took Michael's hand in hers and started tugging him away from the front door. "Come on, Mike. Wait until you see your room." Sue Beth, not realizing the minor faux pas she had just made, asked, "It is okay for me to call you Mike, isn't it? Michael is such a mouthful, and you seem more of a Mike anyway."
         Feeling as if caught in an unstoppable whirlwind, Michael, or rather Mike, let Sue Beth practically drag him across what seemed to be a large room. Behind him, he heard Itzam and Joshua following them, chattering away in Q'eqchi with an occasional word of English thrown in.
         "Well, Samantha," said Walker, watching the four children disappear into the glass elevator. "So far, so good."
         Samantha also watched the children, smiling in relief. "You should be proud of Joshua and Sue Beth. I was a bit worried how they would react to kids with problems, but I don't think they even noticed or cared."
         On the third floor, the children got off the elevator and headed to the right, down a long corridor. Mike listened intently to the sounds around him, trying to identify each one. Their footsteps were muffled somewhat by the thick carpet, and he heard voices of grownups passing them. At one room with an open door, he caught a few words of a conversation between two women about an upcoming surprise birthday party. Before he could find out more, the door was closed, leaving him wondering who the birthday person was.
         "Here we are," said Sue Beth. "Mr. Walker gave you a two bedroom place so you and Itzam can stay together for now." Mike heard the door open and followed Sue Beth into what would be his home until the new orphanage was built. Close behind him were Joshua and Itzam.
         Although Mike couldn't see the rooms, Itzam could and actually started twirling around in delight. He heard the little five-year-old girl laughing for the first time and felt pleasure wash over him from that unexpected joyful sound.
         "Sue Beth, why don't you describe the room for me?" Mike found a chair by feeling around and sat down.
         "Describe it?" she said in surprise, and then realized why he'd wanted her to do that. "Oh dear. I forgot you can't see." She looked around the room, trying to decide where to start. Meanwhile, Itzam was exploring on her own, with Joshua pointing to various items and saying what they were in English.
         While the four children got to know each other on the third floor, Walker and Samantha returned to his apartment on the fourth floor where more challenges waited for them. Jack, who had a knack for finding solutions to problems, had been busy all morning trying to unravel the extensive legal paperwork involved in Walker's new project.
         His boss groaned when he saw the look of annoyance on Jack's face, fearing the worst. Was his plan to open an orphanage in Hannah Edgeworth's name ended before it even began?

Chapter 05

"What's wrong, Jack?" were the first words out of Walker's mouth. "You look like you just sucked a lemon."
         Jack grimaced when he replied, "We're getting a visitor this weekend, so be prepared for a couple days of petty political BS." He walked over to one of the sofas and plopped down on it with a disgusted grunt. "Right after you left for town, I got hold of your lawyers to get the ball rolling about the government forms you'll need."
         A small bit of humor returned with his next comment. "Hope you don't mind, but I threw the fear of God into that obsequious toad of a receptionist they have. I mentioned your name and insisted, no, demanded, to speak with only the senior partner of the firm, Ron Hanson. That sycophantic female practically swooned at that point. She actually bypassed the three junior partners I had to go through the last time I called." Jack grinned at his friend. "Walker, you have no idea of how powerful just the sound of your name is there."
         "Forget that," Walker said, impatiently. "Who's this person coming, and what's he want?"
         "She want," corrected Jack, sneaking a look at Samantha. She only rolled her eyes at the thought of some pinched-nose, blue-haired, elderly female in support stockings meeting Walker and then fawning all over him, which women like that tended to do.
         "Okay, what does she want?" Walker missed seeing Samantha's expression and wouldn't have understood it anyway. He had a blind spot where women were concerned, never realizing the effect he had on most of them, no matter what age they were. "Is it something you can handle, or does she insist on speaking to me?" He hoped it was the former since he disliked bureaucrats with their confrontational pettifogging. They were a waste of time, in his opinion.
         "No, she specifically said she had to speak to you. After we finished with what you'd need for him to do, Ron passed my phone call on to her. It seems she's new to the firm and specializes in children's advocacy. He did say she was experienced in that area, so we'd better get ready for some long discussions."
         Samantha joined the conversation. "Walker, do you want me to have a room ready for her, or do you want her to stay in one of the bungalows? Two of them are empty now."
         "I think the bungalow would be best. That way, she might not always be underfoot. Yes, do that. Thanks, Sam." With that, Walker put the woman's impending visit out of his mind and waited for Jack to continue with what other items of interest he had.
         Jack pulled a notepad out of his shirt pocket and referred to it. "After that call, I made one to Felix Depree over in San Francisco. You might remember, Randall recommended him if you ever needed a first-class architect." Jeff Randall, a member of the SFPD Forensic Department, had sent Joshua and Sue Beth to the mansion for protection from their mother's killer. He had visited the mansion several times since then, and Jack knew he would recommend only people who did quality work.
         "What did he say? Is he interested?" Samantha was the one who asked these questions before Walker could. "Will he be coming out, too?"
         Jack again referred to his notepad before answering her. "Yes, same days as Miss Perry, next weekend." He looked over at Walker. "Sorry, I forgot earlier to tell you the lawyer's name. Delia Perry."
         "Pretty name. Well, Sam, guess you'd better have both empty bungalows made ready." Walker saw Jack flip a page on his notepad and hoped no more people would be coming by. They were running out of places to put them. "Anything else?"
         "Nope, that's it for now." Jack put the notepad back in his pocket and leaned back on the sofa. He started to relax now that he'd passed on all the news, both good and bad. "So? What are the two children you brought back like? Is it too soon for me to meet them?"
         Before either Samantha or Walker could answer, they heard a frantic pounding on the apartment's front door.

Continued in next segment.

ID: 1131310   (Rated: 18+) Title: Home of the Gray Dog - Segment 02  Description: Chapters 06 through 10 Soon in editing phase; need feedback By: J. A. Buxton