After attaching the plastic ID band around Carson's right wrist, Virginia turned to my dad. “Will you two be going with Carson to the examination room?”

“Yes, we will.”

“I’ll need your names and your name tags will be printed at the guard station.” She looked at my dad first. “Your name, please.”

“I’m Robert Dempsey, and this is my son David Dempsey.”

Of course Dad had to answer for me. Why do parents do that all the time? I’m fifteen years old. I could have told her my own name.

She was keying our names into her computer. “David, how old are you?”

“I’m fifteen, same age and birthday as Carson. I’m not too young to go in to see him, am I?”

“No, as long as you’re at least 12 years old you can accompany him. Are you twins?”

I laughed. “No, we’re just…” I turned and looked at Carson. “…we’re good friends.” I looked at Dad. He had the strangest expression, but before I could ask him what was wrong Carson poked me in the arm. He was smiling big-time.

“Good friends?”

Now I was smiling big-time too. “Yup. In fact, we’re smashing good friends.” We both broke up laughing. I think Virginia must have thought we were crazy or something.

“Please step over to the guard station. He’ll have your name tags.”

Carson smiled. “Thank you.”

“Why, you’re welcome, Carson.” She looked at my dad. “What a nice boy.” I agreed with her, but of course didn’t say anything because that would not have been cool. I mean, guys our age don’t go around calling each other ‘nice boy,’ do we!

We walked over to the guard station and the guard asked Dad and me our names. I guess he did it to make sure we were the ones getting the name tags. I suppose it’s good to have all this kind of security. The guard handed printed name tags to me and Dad. “Please put these on the outside of your clothes so they can be seen at all times.”

My name tag had four lines printed on it. First, my name ‘David Dempsey’; second, the word ‘Patient’ followed by Carson’s name ‘Evans, Carson R’; third, today’s date and time, ‘November 24, 2010 6:37 pm’; and fourth, a ‘good until’ date and time that was ‘November 25, 2010 6:00 am’.

A guy dressed in one of those green hospital uniforms opened the door, and the guard told us we could go with him.

The orderly took us to the examination room. I guess it was number three; I forgot to look. Anyway, it was the third one we came to. When we got there he helped Carson get up on the examination table and left us to wait. After a few minutes a male nurse came in.

“Hi. I’m going to check your blood pressure and temperature.”

The nurse had a little scanner thing that he aimed at a bar code on the ID band on Carson’s wrist. He read the screen on the scanner, and I could see that it had Carson’s name and ID information. Then he asked Carson to say his name and birth date and checked it against what was printed on the band. Man, they really do a lot of checking and rechecking.

He took Carson’s blood pressure and temperature then told Carson that a doctor would be in to see him in a few minutes. He closed the curtain across the entrance to the room as he left.

The room had the examination table, two chairs along one wall, a stool with wheels that I guess the doctor would use, some cabinets against the opposite wall, and a lot of electronic equipment with wires and dials and LCD displays on the wall in back of the examination table. It was really interesting, but I didn’t have a clue what any of it was. I sat down on one of the chairs, and Dad stood next to me. Carson sat on the examination table with his legs dangling off the end. He was swinging his legs back and forth and banging his heels into the bottom of the examination table. I could tell he was nervous. Heck, I was nervous and I wasn’t the one with the broken arm.

I was about to ask Carson if he’d like me to tell him some more of my magnificent puns when the curtain was pulled aside. A short, grey-haired man looked in, saw Carson, and walked in. I assumed it was Mr. Hagen, and Carson confirmed that when he said “Hi, Mr. Hagen.”

“Carson, how are you? I met Doctor Dempsey in the waiting room. He was talking with someone out there and he asked me to tell you he’d be here in a couple of minutes.”

Before Carson could reply, Uncle Phil walked in.

“I’m sorry it took so long. One of my patients was in the waiting room. I assume you’ve all met Wayne Hagen?”

“I just walked in so I haven’t met these two gentlemen yet.”

I had to grin because of him calling me a gentleman. The only other time I ever heard that was the salesman at Nordstrom when Mom was buying me a suit to wear for my cousin’s wedding.

“I’m Robert Dempsey. And this is my son, David.” Geez, Dad did it again. Why did he always have to answer for me? Someday I’m going to have to ask him to stop doing that.

Mr. Hagen shook hands with Dad then with me. His handshake was warm, and firm, and I liked that he didn’t try to squeeze my hand to show me how strong he was.

He turned and looked at Carson. “So, how are you, Carson?”

“I’m okay, I guess.” He looked at me and started to grin. It was a nasty grin, so I just knew what he was going to say. “As long as David doesn’t start with his horrible puns again.”

We all laughed, and Mr. Hagen looked confused.

“Mr. Hagen, as we were driving to the hospital my son David entertained us with a series of groaner puns, quite awful ones I might add.”

“Oh, my, another punster! What’s our youth coming to?”

Dad looked at me, then Mr. Hagen. “What do you mean, another punster?”

“You mean Carson didn’t…”

Mr. Hagen was interrupted by Carson, who looked at him, put his finger to his lips, said “Shhhhh!” very loudly, and shook his head, all at the same time.

“Oh. I guess he didn’t, then.”

I put my hands on my hips and turned to Carson who was starting to laugh. “Alright, what’s Mr. Hagen telling us here? It sounds to me like he’s saying you’re also a punster, right?”

I saw that Dad and Uncle Phil figured out the same thing that I’d just asked and were grinning.

Mr. Hagen smiled. “Carson, I think it’s up to you to explain what you’re trying to hide, don’t you?”

Carson shook his head. “Doctor Uncle Phil, shouldn’t you be x-raying my arm? It’s really starting to bother me. It’s hurting ‘cause David’s staring at it so hard.” He looked at me and saw my expression. I knew he’d been deceiving us. That was very funny! We both burst out laughing, and Dad, Uncle Phil, and Mr. Hagen looked at us like we were crazy. Before any of them could say anything an orderly pulled the curtain back and pushed in what I assumed was an x-ray machine.

Uncle Phil confirmed what I thought. “The three of you need to go out to the waiting room so we can x-ray Carson’s arm. I’ll come out and let you know when we’re finished.”

We followed his instructions and we were the only ones in the waiting room. I sat down, but Dad and Mr. Hagen walked outside, and I could see them talking. Every so often they looked through the window at me. What the heck were they talking about? It sure looked like they were talking about me. I decided the only way to find out what they were talking about would be to go out and ask them. I got up and did just that.

“Dad, it looks like you and Mr. Hagen are talking about me. What’s going on?”

Dad seemed flustered, and looked at me then at Mr. Hagen. Mr. Hagen nodded to Dad, then answered my question.

“David, your father and I are talking about your family becoming foster parents for Carson.”

“Oh, I agree! I AGREE, I AGREE!” I shouted. “That will be so cool, like having a twin brother!” I pumped my arm and sort of hopped and danced around, grinning and laughing.

“Slow down, David.” Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “We need to talk to CPS first and find out the process for becoming accepted and certified. Mr. Hagen will assist us, but until we have the approval it’s important that you don’t say anything about this to anyone, especially Carson. We don’t want him to get all excited and then find that we haven’t been approved by CPS for whatever reason. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. But how long is it going to take to find out?”

Mr. Hagen looked at me. “David, there are many steps that have to be taken, and many decisions have to be made by CPS, that’s Child Protective Services. Both of your parents have to agree that this is something they want to do. There has to be a separate bedroom for Carson. They have to discuss it with you and your brother and sisters, and it’s important that the six of you and Carson all agree.”

“Wayne, any idea how long these steps will take?” Dad asked.

“Rob, I would say that because of everything you’ve told me, your application could be fast-tracked. First, a licensing worker from CPS will visit your home and meet with you and your wife and kids. The worker will need to see the bedroom that Carson would use, and evaluate how well he would integrate into your family. Then the worker will interview Carson and find out if he is willing to be fostered by you and your wife and move into your home. A visit could be scheduled in a couple of weeks, depending on the availability of a worker. You could receive approval and your license within a week or two of the licensing worker‘s visit. The CPS offices are closed for Thanksgiving. I’ll know more after I talk with Carson’s placement agent and his social worker when they open on Monday. I’m eager to place all of the boys at Hathaway House. There’s a waiting list of others who need to transition into Hathaway House so they have a stable, accepting environment until a foster home can be found for them.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay, I won’t say anything to anyone. Dad, if you and Mom want to ask me about us becoming the foster family for Carson, I’d like that a lot.”

Mr. Hagen grinned. “Rob, shall we let David in on our little plan for Carson?”

My dad smiled, and looked at me. He put his finger across his lips and said “Shhh! Wayne and I talked about having Carson come over tomorrow for Thanksgiving and your birthday, and we’ll have a surprise birthday party for him. We‘ll have to talk to your mom and get her approval first.”

“Oh, man, that’s so cool! I guess the ‘shhh’ is telling me I can’t say anything to him about this either, right?”

“Right. It depends on how he’s feeling, and if his arm is broken if it’s more than a hairline fracture.”

“Could he spend the night with us? Maybe tonight? Like a sleepover?”

Mr. Hagen replied, “We’ve planned a birthday party for him at Hathaway House tonight. I don’t want to disappoint Carson and the other boys, so maybe there can be a sleepover some other time, perhaps this weekend if he’s feeling well enough.” He turned to my dad and continued, “Rob, give me a call and let me know if it’s okay with your wife, and if it is, what time you’d like me to bring Carson over tomorrow.”

“I’m sure it will be okay with Cynthia. But I’ll talk to her as soon as we get home and phone you that it’s confirmed.”

Uncle Phil opened the door and walked outside to talk to us.

“I reviewed Carson’s x-ray and he has a simple stress fracture of his radius. David, the radius is one of the bones in the forearm. Since it’s not a serious fracture it should heal quickly. You can come in and see him now.”

We walked in and went through the verification process at the guard station. Uncle Phil led us back to where Carson was waiting. He smiled when we walked into the examination room.

I asked him, “How you doing, guy?”

“Okay. I am so ready to leave. I’ve decided I don’t much like hospitals.” He turned to Uncle Phil. “But you’re okay, Uncle Phil.”

“Hang on a minute, Carson. There are a couple more things I need to take care of.”

He turned to Mr. Hagen. “I’ve wrapped his forearm in a compression bandage and put a hard plastic brace over that. He has a sling and he should keep his arm immobilized as much as possible for the next two weeks. I’ve written a prescription for a ten day supply of a pain medication. When that runs out he can begin to take two ibuprofen tablets every four hours for pain. I’ve written out the instructions. I’d like to see him in six weeks so we can x-ray his arm and make sure the fracture is healing.” He handed the papers to Mr. Hagen. “Now, why don’t we get Carson out of here since he has such an aversion to hospitals?”

Carson nodded and smiled at me, and that made me smile too.