Is a Dream Just a Dream?

His Name's William

December

"One more step, come on you can do it" Now I know I'm officially in the category of "senior citizen" seventy puts you there apparently. But I refuse to use a walker. Something about the slow shuffle the tennis balls on the ends of the legs, and the general appearance makes me depressed beyond description. For therapy purposes I'm okay with it, but any walking I do that's not in a rehabilitative context will be strictly accomplished with a cane. Or a crutch. Because I'm just a stubborn asshole that way.

Sweating I finish taking a few steps on the bars enjoying the sensation of actually moving again "Pretty soon we can send that chair to the scrap heap huh?" Mike guides me as I move and I place more weight on each leg trying to keep my arms from compensating. "Looking good, one more lap my man" fifteen minutes and another lap on the parallel bars later and I'm done for the day. Stan and I go through some blue grass tunes together and I feel almost like my old self.

"When are the boys coming over?" guitar world rests on my lap while Stevie and I sit in bed later that night one of my hands flipping through the pages the other gently rubbing her knee. "Will said sometime around seven-" I hear something hit the ground downstairs, the dogs are laying at the foot of the bed ears perked up so it's not them. "Should I call the police?" steeling my nerves I climb out of bed steadying my body against the dresser.

My legs are still too weak to hold me up for long so I inevitably fall into my wheel chair. Stevie's got an aluminum bat behind her door and I grab it wheeling toward the stairs "Lindsey" Stevie jumps out of bed behind me and we creep toward the open door of our bedroom. The step creaks and I tighten my grip on the baseball bat "If someone's down there the cops are on their way, and I have a ba-big gun". Another step creeps "Relax dad it's just me". Fuck. I nearly had a heart attack "Will? What are you doing here?"

My oldest so walks into view in his pajama bottoms and a hoody "Did you run here?" he shakes his head handing me the keys to my BMW "I borrowed your car...sorry" he slumps into the bedroom sitting on the edge of the bed "What's wrong honey?" Stevie goes into mom mode running her hands over his face, he winces and I notice a large red mark on his eyebrow "What the fuck happened to you?" he sits up flinching at my outburst "Nothing" sitting up I move from my chair to the bed to sit beside him my hand touching his face where Stevie's fingers just were he moves his head back and I frown "Stop moving".

He leans forward and I see tear tracks on his cheeks "Will what the hell happened? Did you and Bryce get into another fight? I told you about that!" Will is usual a rock in a storm, but he can occasionally show signs of a fiery temper. He gets it from his father. "No, Bryce didn't do anything to me. Neither did Derrick" Stevie smooths his hair away from his eyes "Did...Kristen do this?" he smiles ruefully shaking his head "No SHE didn't" I grit my teeth in anger "Well then who the hell did?"

Wiping his nose he looks me in the eyes blue to blue "Her fuckboy!" his eyes dart to Stevie "Sorry Aunt Steph". That oiled up mother fucker! Before I know what I'm doing I grab my cell phone hitting the speed dial for the house phone it rings twice and Derrick picks up "Aunt Steph?" he sounds upset and I wonder what all fuckboy is doing to my kids "Put your mother on the phone Derrick". I can almost see him scurrying down the hall and I hear him give the phone over to Kristen.

"What is it asshole?" I don't have patience for he shit right now "Where the hell do you get off letting some fucking dildo with a pulse hit my son?!" her voice sounds irritated and annoyed and impatient and I could give two fucks because her boyfriend hit my son! "Will got in his face Lindsey it's not like Dylan just came home and popped him one." Bullshit. Will didn't get in anyone's face "I swear to God Kristen if you don't' get that mother fucker out of my house I'm calling the cops! Don't think I'm not calling my lawyer about this, you want to date a dirt bag that's on you but don't you dare endanger my kids for some fucktoy!"