Blood tests were taken, though Wolf had to bark an order at Travis to get him to hold still for it. At this point, Wolf was the only one that Travis would listen to.
Hank noticed how gruff the man was with the boy, but he didn’t strike him. Not that he really expected him to in public, but he could see it was within the man’s nature to do so. But as Wolf had said, there was no definitive proof that he was abusive with his son. The boy had run off before anyone could truly examine him and the injuries could have been caused by natural causes. A doctor had examined Travis thoroughly and didn’t find a scar on him, a few scratches from branches… but no indication of abuse at all and the cops had reported deep gashes, which was indicating that perhaps in the excitement of the drug bust, the boy’s condition had been misinterpreted.
However, until the blood test came in, Travis was moved to a children’s mental hospital in the nearest city. Wolf had to drive along in the car, however, to get the boy to go, and boy did Travis pitch a fit when his father turned to leave.
Wolf turned to his son. “I’ll come back, boy. Calm down now and stay here.” Travis whimpered but nodded. Wolf pointed to Dr. Lipkin. “Obey him.” Travis looked at the doctor and set his lips in a stubborn line, but Wolf spoke harshly. “Obey, boy!”
Travis’ lip trembled but he nodded, the doctor watching the interaction curiously.
Wolf turned to the doctor. “Just be forceful in your commands with him and he’ll do what you tell him.”
The doctor nodded and watched the father leave. Lipkin then turned to Travis who looked like he might bolt any minute. “Travis, come.” Lipkin already knew to use short simply commands with the boy. Travis whimpered like a puppy but followed the doctor who brought him to a maximum security area, but not straight-jacketed or drugged in any way.
Lipkin then led Travis to a cafeteria and ordered some food for him and a few moments later a tray was brought out. It was kind of late but the sheriff had said they had come straight away and that Travis hadn’t eaten that he knew of.
Travis blinked and sniffed at the food, a burger and fries and fruit bowl with some milk. He pulled the cup over, sloshing it and put his face down and lapped at it like a dog. He was thirsty and hungry so he didn’t care what the food and drink tasted like, even though the taste and color had apparently startled him at first.
Travis then grabbed the burger and ate like there was no tomorrow, shoving as much in his mouth and cheeks as possible while still being able to chew, looking around the room as he did. Lipkin watched on without speaking, just observing his behavior for his report. The food was gone in a matter of minutes and Travis licked at the plate and then burped loudly and giggled.
The doctor gestured for two orderlies once Travis was done eating. “Bath time. This might get intense. I’m not sure how he’ll react as it doesn’t seem like he’s ever had one in his entire life.”
The orderlies nodded and followed the doctor into a large bathroom designed to help patients bathe who were not in a mental condition to do so on their own. Two other orderlies joined and guarded the door with one of the original two taking position on one side of the large bathtub and the other at the end, while the doctor started the water.
Travis watched on curiously but whimpered again when the doctor told him to undress, having to go through several commands before “drop your pants” registered. Travis trembled, thinking he was going to get a beating with a strap like his father used to do. But Lipkin gently took his arm and led him over to the bath. “Come. Get in.”
He pointed to the water. “Bath. Wash.”
Travis pulled back shaking his head, recognizing the device once he came up close. He didn’t like baths. He remembered that.
The doctor calmed him. “Sh. It’s okay. No one is going to hurt you. I’ll be gentle.” Travis shook his head again not wanting any of it. The doctor sighed and gestured for the syringe that one orderly had in his pocket. He pointed to Travis’ arm. “Shot.”
Travis remembered the blood test and so put his arm forward, watching the needle go in as before, but this time instead of red coming out, water went in, or what looked like water though it stung a bit. He winced and whimpered again. The doctor patted his shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s just to calm you down a little so we can clean you up. You’ll get sleepy. Sleep, Travis.”
Travis nodded and lay down right there on the floor and curled into a ball and closed his eyes, thinking he was being ordered to bed. Bit by bit the drug took effect and the orderlies were finally signaled forward to get him into the bath. Travis was too relaxed at this point to struggle, though he started keening in fear. Even drugged, he appeared to be aware of what was being done to him. It took several good scrubbings and refilling the tub and then the same with his hair before he could be considered clean. His skin was pink from the ordeal but no real harm had been done to him. Lipkin then towel dried the wild boy along with his hair and then slipped a set of patient scrubs on him, putting slippers on his feet.
Travis was then taken to his room and told to sleep for real, which he quickly did, not only because of the drug but because he was exhausted. It had been a very traumatic, adventuresome day.