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Bo's Journey Home - Chapter 8   Tuesday, June 24th, 2003   When Matthew opened his eyes, he was still on the window seat. He remembered where he was and why and the pain in his heart began to pound against his chest again and his head throbbed some. He hadn’t slept much. And when he did finally close his eyes, Gabrielle’s voice just echoed over and over in his head, making it hurt even more. Matthew heard Harry moving in his bedroom and he quickly closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. Harry came out to the living room and saw Matthew on the window seat. He picked up the blanket from the sofa and laid it across Matthew. He gently caressed the bandaged area over Matthew’s eye, and then smoothed his hair from across his forehead, his hand lingering a moment on Matthew’s head. Matthew heard Harry move away and into the kitchen, quietly opening and closing cabinets and doors. Matthew finally heard Harry leave, his footsteps echoing softly down the outside stairs. Matthew sat up and opened his eyes, rubbing them. He stood up and walked towards the kitchen. Harry had left the cereal out on the counter for him, but he wasn’t hungry. His stomach hurt, his head hurt and his heart hurt. His clothes were folded neatly on the kitchen counter. He took them and went into the bathroom. He changed back into his own clothes, and then went back to the window seat. He sat there most of the day, watching the boats come in and out of dock, watching the people walk the pier. There was a lot of activity on the pier. It seemed to Matthew that there were large amounts of people, walking up and down the pier, handing out pamphlets. As the day wore on, the flow of people began to thin and by sunset, the pier was empty. It was dark when he heard the heavy thud of feet coming up the stairs. The door opened and Harry walked in. Harry looked over at him from the doorway. Matthew looked sadder than he had the night before. “Evening Matthew,” he called to him softly. Matthew responded quietly. “Evening Skipper.”   Harry watched Matthew sitting at the window. “Been sitting there all day, have ya?”   Matthew nodded. “Yes sir.”   Harry thought about the searchers and the all of the pictures of Matthew being distributed during the day. “Figure anything out, yet,” he asked of Matthew.   Matthew shrugged dejectedly. Harry spoke cautiously, pointing to the window. “Lots of people looking for you out there.”   Matthew’s quiet demeanor changed immediately into one of anger. “I don’t care about any of them.”   Harry kept his voice level and soft. “Someone must care an awful lot about you to have all those search parties looking for you.”   “Not care enough to tell me the truth,” Matthew blurted out angrily.   “The truth about what?” Harry asked him. Matthew stared hard at Harry. His lips were pressed together and his body was rigid. Harry repeated himself gently. “The truth about what, Matthew?”   Matthew spoke through clenched teeth and pressed lips, turning his head away from Harry and back towards the window. “About my father.”   Harry pressed Matthew gently, sensing Matthew needed to get this all out. “What about him?”   Matthew’s voice trembled as he spoke. “The man who I thought was my real father, he isn’t.” Matthew paused. “And the, the…Matthew hesitated, trying to think of something to call Bo …the guy who is my real father, he lied to me about it, …about who he really is. I thought he was my friend, but he’s not.” Mathew voice was barely a whisper. “He was just pretending.”   Harry nodded, starting to understand the boy’s pain. “And that hurts, finding out someone you care about maybe lied to you.”   “Maybe lied?” Matthew argued. “He did lie. He let me believe someone else was my father. He let someone else take his place, let me love someone else.” A few tears made their way down Matthew’s cheeks as he continued. “Do you know how much that hurts? He knew the man I thought was my real father had died. He knew how much I wanted another father, that I wanted him to be my father.” Matthew paused a second, before continuing angrily. “But even then he didn’t tell me that he was my real father. He just let me keep on believing he was my friend, believing his lies.”   “So now you want to hurt him back by running away and hiding from him?” Harry asked.   “He lied to me! Matthew yelled. “He pretended to be my friend, when he should have told me he was my father.”   Harry tried to reason with Matthew. “Maybe he had a good reason for not telling you the truth.”   Matthew stood up, his body taunt, tears of anger falling from his eyes. “What good reason could he have? That he hurt my mother and he made her cry? That good reason?”   Harry tried to interrupt but Matthew continued, his voice now low and distant. “No, Harry. No reason is good enough for not telling me the truth.” Matthew’s voice was barely above a whisper. “…he lied to my mother, he lied to me, he lied about everything. And now, now…” Matthew was trying to make some sense from all of the things that Gabrielle had told him. His breathing became hard as he thought back to Gabrielle’s words.   Harry gently prodded him. “Now, what?”   Matthew’s thoughts came out in rambles, the anger still evident. “…Now I find out that he never even wanted me; that he…” Matthew stumbled over the next word, “…a,a, abandoned my mother and me.” He was crying now, almost sobbing. “That he left my mother, all because of me.”   Harry could see Matthew was on the verge of hyperventilating and quickly tried to calm him down. “Slow down, Matthew. Easy. Just breathe.” Harry waited for Matthew to settle and then tried to help Matthew from a different angle. “Don’t you think you’re mother is worried about you?”   Matthew tried to choke back his sobs. “Maybe…” he choked on the words. “Maybe…” he tried to get the words out again. “Maybe its better for her that I’m gone,” he finally blurted out. “Maybe I remind her of how much my real father hurt her.”   Harry shook his head. “I don’t believe that for a minute. Do you really think you’re mother feels that way about you?”   Matthew shrugged, his sobs subsiding. “I don’t know. Maybe it hurts her too much to talk about it. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t tell me the truth about him and what he did.”   Harry was quiet a minute. “If you’re mother or father didn’t tell you, then how did you find out about all of this?”   Matthew‘s breathing became slower and he used his bare arms to wipe his face from tears. “Just did.”   Harry looked directly into Matthew’s eyes. “So; you allowed someone else to tell you a story about your father and about you and you believed what you heard. There are two sides to every story, Matthew. You should hear your father’s side of it.”   Matthew was almost yelling now. “Why?! So he can lie to me some more?”   Harry put his hands up palms out and then motioning downward with them. “Hey, Matthew, I’m not the enemy here. I’m just trying to give you an outsider’s point of view. If you were my son, I would want the chance to explain everything to you. Maybe there are some things you don’t know.” Harry watched as Matthew walked back to the window, his back to Harry, staring out. There was silence between them. Harry gave Matthew a breather from his pain, walking into the kitchen and seeing the cereal box still on the counter. “Didn’t eat today?” Harry asked.   Matthew shook his head no. “Not hungry,” he muttered.   Harry opened the cabinet and took out some tuna fish. “You hungry now, Matthew?”   Matthew shook his head no. Harry and Matthew didn’t say anything for several minutes while Harry made sandwiches, then Matthew turned from the window and looked at Harry in the kitchen. When Matthew spoke, his voice was soft, his eyelashes still wet with tears. “You think I should go home, doncha. Talk to him.”   Harry had his back to Matthew. “I can’t tell you what to do, Matthew. You made the decision to run away and hide. You now have to make the decision to go home and face him; talk with him.”   Matthew tried to make Harry see his point of view. “But he lied, Harry. He broke his promises to my mother. He made her cry.”   Harry still had has back to Matthew, still talking in quiet tones. “And are you angrier about him hurting you, or your mother?”   “What do you mean?” Matthew asked confused. “He hurt us both.”   Harry turned slowly to look at Matthew. “I think you have to ask yourself why you are so angry with him.”   Matthew responded quickly, remembering what Gabrielle had said and listing what he felt where all of Bo’s crimes. “He broke all of his promises to my mother. And he didn’t want me. And he left us.”   Harry again tried to reason with Matthew. “Don’t you think you should ask him why he did all of those things?”   Matthew shook his head. “No. He didn’t even have the guts to tell me any of the truth himself, what makes you think he’ll tell me why he did all those things now?”   Harry turned and faced Matthew. “You’ll never know unless you ask him. Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to hear what he has to say? Don’t you want to hear what your mother has to say?”   Matthew shook his head again. “I don’t want to hear anything he has to say.” His voice was quiet. “And I don’t want to hurt my mother by making her talk about it.” Matthew got silent, staring out the window and then stood, coming to a decision. “I don’t want to get you in any trouble because I’m here. I think its time for me to go.”   Harry was surprised by Matthew’s sudden change in attitude. He glanced up at the clock on his wall. “Kinda late.”   Matthew nodded. “I know.”   Harry could see he was still very angry. “Are you going home?”   Matthew hesitated a slight second before responding. “Yes.”   Harry was not sure he believed him and pointed to the door. “Why don’t I go down to the bar and call you a cab?”   Matthew shook his head quickly. “No, Thanks.” He looked out the window. “There are some police officers down on the pier; I know if I go over to them, they will take me home.”   Harry heaved a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to let Matthew leave this late. “Yep, I’m sure they will. Do you want me to walk down with you and take you over to them?   Matthew shook his head no. “I can do it myself. Besides, I don’t want to get you in any trouble for letting me stay here.”   Harry nodded in understanding. “You gonna be all right?”   Matthew shrugged his shoulders dejectedly. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be all right again.” He walked over to Harry and stuck out his hand. “Thanks for your help.” Harry stooped down in front of Matthew, placing his hand on the side of Matthew’s face. “Trust your heart, Matthew. If you trust what you feel in your heart, everything will be okay. And do something for me. Don’t be afraid to listen to everything your father has to say. Just give him a chance.”   Matthew gave a kind of nodded shrug and headed to the door. He turned back towards Harry, waved, and was gone. When Matthew reached the bottom of the steps, he didn’t turn towards the pier. Instead he walked through the shadows of the alley in the opposite direction of the pier and started walking up River Street. He didn’t want the police officers to see him, so he kept to the shadows. He walked at a steady pace, keeping in and out of the shadows, keeping his head down, and not meeting anyone. He had a definite destination in mind; The Palace Hotel. He was hoping Renee would be there. She was his mother’s best friend and she was like a grandmother to Matthew. He sometimes wished she really was his grandmother. But he knew if he asked her about Bo, she would tell him the truth. And he could protect his mother from anymore hurt at the same time. It was a good plan. He knew the Palace Hotel was along the river, so he kept walking, knowing he would run into it. He saw the hotel, just a block a head. When he reached the corner, he stopped, looking up at the hotel. He didn’t want to walk into the lobby and have anybody see him. He wasn’t ready to be found. Instead, he walked along the side of the hotel towards the back where the pool was. It was a warm night. He knew there would be people out there swimming. He walked along the shrubs and bushes that lined the side of the hotel. He sat down behind one large shrub, between the corner of the building and near the gate that led to where the pool was. Someone was bound to come out so he could sneak in. He lay back, huddled under an overhang. He couldn’t see the sky from where he was hiding; he just listened to the sounds coming from the pool. His eyelids were becoming heavier and heavier and soon he was fast asleep. To be continued …