Last night was the Anacortes Youth Sports dinner and auction. I think this is worthwhile. The AYS is an excellent organization which has raised enough money to pay for some pretty spectacular sports fields for the kids to enjoy and to help carry them to athletic careers, if that's what they want to do.
Lot of Anacortes business people attend. There are long tables of silent auction items, and it all comes from people you see here. Kinda cool that you bid on goods and service you'd probably buy anyway, and the money goes into the community with little interference. A local volunteer-run organization can do that.
We chatted with people we do business with and parents of kids Ross hangs out with. One couple, perplexed that their second-youngest son has participated in sports from little league baseball to high school varsity football, but is this day in his third week of in-patient drug and alcohol treatment. Yes, we've watched Zach grow up, too. He attended all of Ross' birthday parties from kindergarten on. He hasn't been over to visit in awhile, though, being the number one suspect in the theft of some cash from Ross' room.
Zach's been a mess for awhile, and it's been painful to watch. Stole his dad's car and put it in a ditch two years ago. Ran away from home last year and was gone a few weeks. Skipped so much school that he is a certified drop out now.
The parents: Still married to each other. Active in their church. Owners of a fairly large construction company. Stay at home mom. They have been permissive in parenting style, but I don't think that's what went wrong. The other three children have turned out just fine.
Speaking to Mike and Karen I said I hoped Zach emerged from the treatment healthy again, and that I thought he had good parents. He's a good kid raw-material-wise, I opined, wanting to offer some optimism. Mike doesn't have much hope for him, and Karen looks pained. He's a stupid kid, said Mike. He's going to have to hit some rocks for awhile.
We came home from the event around 10:30. Ross and about ten friends were out on the island enjoying a fire and whatever it is they talk about. He came into the house and asked if he could take the sedan into town. "Dakota's been arrested for having a little weed in his pocket and he needs someone to drive his car home."
Dakota is an A student who is working hard to win college scholarships. But his parents have been split most of his childhood, and his mom is allowing her boyfriend to set rules and limits on him. He resents it. I'm not surprised.
Ross tells me arrests for having a little weed in one's pocket are increasing, and there have even been a few searches at the high school. I tell him I'm glad to hear this because the previous lack of law enforcement has made all this drug stuff look ok. There's way too much of it. Anacortes is worse than towns along I-5. I waited up till Ross got back from town, without Dakota, who was facing a disappointed mom and verbose male companion. Everything looked alright on the island so told the boys I want everyone to go home by 1:00. I went to bed.
Ross woke me up around 12:30, eyes clear and breath clean. "I shouldn't have let Cody bring beer, Mom. I didn't drink any, so I thought it would be alright." I sat upright and turned on the lamp.
"What do you think I should do?" I asked him. Now, I know these kids have partied before. The rule is You Can't Do That Here and I'll Make Sure You Have Food and Pop. All the parents know I expect them to respect that rule. The parents who have bothered to check with me, I mean. I've actually met very few of them.
"Nobody's drunk but Cody," said Ross. I summoned the group off of the island. Thinking fast, I said that everyone should go home now, those who can't drive must not drive, those who can't get home will go to bed now on the living room floor. I'm deciding whether I should call parents based on what's in front of my face in the next ten minutes. After a movement like rats out of an aquaduct, we were left looking at Cody, who had thrown up on the patio and was wiping his face with his sleeve.
Inside the house, I spoke with Ross. Should I call Cody's mom?
"Cody's mom moved to Colorado when Cody said he'd rather live with his dad. She went to be with a man there. Cody's dad just finished chemotherapy for his cancer and they think they got it out of his bones so he'll live another few months. He's stuck in bed for a week or so. And Cody just found out his girlfriend is pregnant. His own mom won't talk to him." Ross looked down at the floor so I wouldn't see tears in his eyes.
I see. There is no one to call. When Ross lifted his eyes I told him that no matter what happened between his dad and me there would be no abandonment. Ever.
When Cody's stomach was finished erupting, Ross made him a bed on a couch.
"Hey, man," I said to Cody this morning, "You've got a lot of bad stuff happening to you. If your dad wants you to hang here once in awhile, you can. But you have to behave yourself."
It's late afternoon and I'm happy to report that Cody kept his breakfast down and is getting hungry for dinner.
I need a nap.
Epilogue, March 30: There have been no more boozy parties. Rules have been observed. Cody was here last night, and this morning told me his girlfriend had miscarried. I asked him how he feels. He said he supposed it was for the best. And we agreed it was also ok to feel sadness. How's he doing? Well, his dad is not going to live much longer, but he graduates with a good GPA in June and he has a decent-paying job lined up. He should be alright.
Epilogue, May 23: Cody's dad lost his battle with cancer. I found this obituary, and it made my heart glad to see that Cody had a very loving father who taught him good things. Cody told me he and his siblings wrote this obitiuary. (cut and paste isn't working, so go to: www.goskagit.com, then to "obituaries" and search John Michael Hernandez)
