I got back home and took my shower. I was standing by the mirror in my bathrobe (another habit from college) brushing my teeth when Kevin’s door opened and he walked in, actually kind of toddled, staring at the floor. He was wearing a tee shirt with Angry Bird on it and drooping below that was a very wet Goodnite.
“Hi, Kevin,” I said. He gasped and looked up when he heard my voice.
“Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” he said as he retreated. “I forgot you were here.”
“It’s okay, sweetie, mistakes happen. I should have thrown the bolt on your door. I forgot to.” Then I heard him trip and fall and whimper a little. I stepped into his room and saw him lying on the ground crying.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Yes… no… I don’t know,” he sobbed. “I banged my knee…and you saw me like this…and…and…”
“Oh Kevin, don’t worry I knew about the pullups, remember, your mom told me. Does your knee hurt a lot?”
“No, I guess it was just everything and I wanted to make a good impression, now you think I’m a baby.”
I knelt down next to him and put my arm over his shoulder and he cried a little while. While he was crying I looked around the room, really for the first time. I was a bit distracted the last time I was here. It looked like a typical teenage boy’s bedroom. He liked sci fi, so there were some movie posters, pennants for the Mets and the Giants, a couple gymnastics trophies and medals, some framed certificates from school, a desk with a computer on it, a little TV, lots of books in neat rows on his bookshelves. On the top of his dresser sat stuffed dog and a teddy bear that looked to have been lovingly preserved since childhood. Nothing unusual, except that it was much cleaner than my brother kept his room. Then I looked at the bed and I noticed that it had rails on it like you’d see on a hospital bed.