Date: Thu, 07 Nov 2002 20:15:31 -0500 From: m yonge Subject: Brother Pat 10 final episode This is the final chapter of a story that I posted here a couple years ago. you may have to read the some of the other chapters again to remember how the story went. the Regular disclaimers apply... this is a story about homosexual activity, if this offends you then don't read it. If it is illegal in your jurisdiction to read this, then don't read it. This is not a true story just a stroy out of my own imagination, taking a look at another aspect of the Priest/boy/teen controversy. Let me know what you think. myonge@hotmail.com That horrible spring and summer dragged on endlessly. It didn't take long for the word to get around that Bro. Pat and I had been doing more than meeting for counselling. Although no one got that officially that didn't stop the rumour mills from churning out all manner of stories about us. Mom and Dad said nothing, but I could tell they were embarrassed and ashamed about me. My siblings for the most part wouldn't even talk to me, at least not civilly. My next oldest brother even told my parents to kick me out of the house, which thankfully they didn't do. I graduated that spring. I had by that time decided I no longer wanted a vocation and was looking around for another University. Dad informed me that he would not be able to help me as much as they had hoped so I had better get myself a job if I wanted to go to school in the fall. I wasn't sure if that meant they wouldn't help me at all or just that there would be less than total support. I did find a job at a local warehouse, which didn't make my summer any better. I would at least be able to make enough to pay my tuition in the fall. I didn't go to church much anymore, I felt the church had failed me, besides no one would talk to me there anymore, some people wouldn't even sit in the same pew with me. It was like I had the plague or something. There were always quietly spoken comments made as I walked down the aisle to my seat. They were spoken quietly, but somehow loudly enough for me to hear. After a couple Sundays of that I just refused to return. Father Andrew tried to talk to me a few times but gave up after a few tries. I wrote to Paul and told him what had happened. He could only sympathise and asked me not to write him again. He didn't want to be found out, he was afraid his mother would find one of my letters and find out he was gay and in true paranoid fashion worried if my letters to him were being traced. Work wasn't bad in itself. The labour varied and sometimes we had lighter days than other. Much of the work consisted of loading and unloading transports. I was one of the young kids on the crew that had been hired for the summer. It took about 3 days for everyone to find out I was gay, to find out I was the kid with Brother Pat at St Francis church. After that my life was turned into a living hell. I was the brunt of practical jokes and tricks. Often I would be tripped or "accidentally" pushed. There were always the comments that came in a steady stream all day. On more than one occasion I was threatened by several of the men on the crew. Some didn't want me working the same crew with them, as though homosexuality was something you could catch. (these were the days before HIV/AIDS). I ate my lunch alone. If I came into the coffee room and sat at a table with others, I was either told to find another place to sit or they would leave. I hated the job not because I hated the work but because of the treatment I was getting. When I told my parents about it I was told to happy I had a job and to "just ignore" what was being done to me. Easy advice to give. One evening about mid July as I walked home, I cut through the park as I usually did. I was thinking about Pat and where he was right then. The park had a single lane drive through usually occupied by cyclists and walkers. This evening it seemed to be quiet in the park. It had rained during the afternoon so probably no one was out because of that. I was walking along when I realised that there was a vehicle behind me, I got off the path to let it pass. It came abreast with me, a van of some sort. The next thing I knew I was being hauled into the van, which as soon as I was in drove away at high speed. It was dark inside and before I could get accustomed to the dimness a pillowcase or cloth bag of some sort was pulled over my head. "We got the little fag!!!" said someone whose voice I vaguely recognised. There were several "SHs" I of course struggled against what seemed to be several hands that were all over me. I was punched several times to keep me down, and then felt my belt being loosened, and my pants being removed. My shirt was also removed and then my briefs. They had stripped me. I could hear them laughing but no one said anything, or even touched me. Then the van stopped. And I heard the doors opening. I was pushed face up against the side of the van, someone was almost leaning up against me, The next thing I knew a finger was forced up my ass ... dry. I grunted in pain. It hurt like hell. Another voice now spoke in a snarl. "I know you and the brother like this stuff eh?" I recognised this one as one of the men from the warehouse. "Well we're gonna give you a little treat fag, we know how much you must be missing your man" My ass was pulled out from the van a bit and someone's huge cock was driven home. I screamed in pain. They just laughed. The man behind me was pumping me hard and soon released himself in me. "Ok me next" came another voice. This one went in easier but the pain, the pain was still intense. I just wanted it to be over. I was sobbing out of humiliation and pain. Five ... five men had me that evening out in the country. The last two had to do it doggy style with me on the ground because I could no longer stand. When they were done they rolled me into the ditch off the road, and left me there. As they left one of them said "Let's not see your fuckin face at work again or you'll get worse" I don't know how long I lay there before I even tried to get the sack off my head. I just lay there crying. I could feel the cum oozing out of my ass. When I finally managed to get the sack off my head I sat up slowly and looked about me. I was quite a ways out in to the country, along some gravel concession road somewhere. They had taken my clothes, all I had to cover myself with was the sack. I slowly got up and just started walking. Finally as I came over a rise I saw a farm house about a mile away. It was getting dusky out and the mosquitoes were starting to get busy. With the sun just setting I stumbled into the farm yard, and fell on the front steps. "Oh my God" a woman's voice. "get a blanket " I felt something warm being laid over me. "I'll bring the car around" a man's voice I vaguely heard the sound of a vehicle being brought to where I was. Gentle arms were holding me. "He's just a boy" the woman's voice I felt myself being picked up and gently laid in the back of the "car" the woman got in the back with me and held my head on here lap. She was gently holding my face, softly stroking it. You're ok now, we're taking you to the hospital" The car was speeding down the gravel road and soon we were on pavement. I moaned in pain, tears were streaking down my dirty face. "That's ok son" came the woman's voice again. "We're almost there now" I could here the horn being used as we sped on. Finally we arrived at the hospital. "I don't know where he came from, he just stumbled into our yard, completely naked." The woman's voice. " I think he is hurt, there seems to be some blood coming from somewhere" The voice continued. I was put on a gurney and wheeled into the hospital. I tried to grab the woman's hand. "Tttthh ... ank you" I mumbled... " then they were gone. "Son do you know what happened to you" I moaned a yes. One of the nurses said softly "He's been raped hasn't he?" The doctor responded "I think so" He then looked into my face "Son can you tell me who you are? We need to find your folks" J..jj..johnson... dad is D..d..dan ... I didn't remember much after that until I came out of the haze in a hospital room. Mom was leaning over the bed with tears in her eyes. I felt her hand on the side of my face. "I'm so sorry son... oh Mikel" I just hurt all over. But the touch of my mother was so special, it was something that I needed so badly right then. To be accepted again as here son Dad came to the other side of the bed. "Son... " he looked so awkward standing there trying to control his emotions "son I failed you, I'm so sorry, we're going to find out who did this to you, we're going to help you through this my boy, your not alone in this anymore." He leaned forward and kissed me on my forehead. It was the first kiss I had received from him in as long as I could remember. We all cried there together. It was all better for me, I had my family back. The next day the police came by to take a statement, but there wasn't much I could tell them. I told them about recognising the voices but they told me that if I couldn't give them a definite identification, the voice was nothing to go on. As the interview continued their attitude became more belligerent and abusive, suggesting that I had brought it on myself. "after all" one of the officers started "we know about you and..." My mother came at him like a fury. "My son was raped last night and left to die!!! And you want to blame him for that??" "Is that how you treat women that are raped too, you assume that if they've had sex with someone else that they must have been asking for the rape???" "Mrs. Johnson we...". The other officer started to say GET OUT!!! GET OUT!!! This interview is over, you'll be hearing from your superior GET OUT!!! She screamed The officers withdrew.. Mom sank in to the chair beside the bed sobbing out of the intensity of the moment. "Mom? Are you ok? I asked "Yes son, I'm ok... just mad that's all" Then she started to laugh. Soon we were both laughing. "Wow mom you were wild" "Son I don't think we're going to get much help from the constabulary, We'll see what we can do once you get home. " A nurse and a doctor came running in at the same time. "Is everything alright?" "Yes" said my mom in a quieter voice "We had a little disagreement with the officers" "Doctor" I said slowly "How am I?" "Son, from what we can see there was no major physical damage, a little tearing of the skin at the sphincter but that should heal by itself. I can't see any internal damage. You should be able to go home in another day or so" I sighed a long ragged sigh of relief. "that's good" Mom held my hand. After the doctor did his thing and left she stayed for a bit longer. But not without the promise "Mikel when you get home we'll talk, you get some rest and get better, don't worry about anything right now." The rest of my stay seemed to drag on forever, Father Andrew did drop in a couple times to see how I was doing. A couple days later Mom and Dad came to pick me up at the hospital to take me home. I was still very stiff and bruised but I was able to walk to the car under my own steam, although Dad had his arm around me, he said, to steady me. When we got home Dad gave me an envelope which contained a cheque. "Your boss dropped this off yesterday, said this was your last cheque" I looked at the envelope. "I guess I won't be going back there to work" I said more to myself than anyone else. "Open it son, I think that he may have put some extra in there for you." Dad said, with a grim smile on his face. I looked at him trying to read what he might be meaning and then I opened the envelope. Inside was a cheque for what amounted to approximately what I had expected to earn the whole summer. I just stared at the cheque, speechless. "Son, after the police were in and proved they were not going to do anything, Father Andrew and the priest from the St Jude Parish and I went to your job place, together. A couple of the men you identified go to St Jude, including your foreman. We merely suggested that even though we couldn't prove anything , we knew what had happened and we were sure that none of the people there would want to be implicated in a homosexual rape, or even have it suggested that they were somehow involved." "Your boss thought it would be a nice gesture if they were to pay you for you summer's work" Dad handed me another envelope containing one hundred and twenty five dollars in bills. "The men you worked with thought that you should have this as well" "We promised that we would do our best to keep all this under our hats" Dad chuckled. "Son you might want to take some of that and put it in the church offering on Sunday. I threw my arms around Dad and we hugged. "I know you're dream of taking a vocation with the church is gone, but Father Andrew called the Dean of the College and they have said they would allow you to still attend this fall in the College, if you are still interested. They have many good courses Son. You should consider it. With this money and what your Mom and I will add, there shouldn't be a problem from the financial end." I couldn't have been happier and was soon filling out the necessary forms to go to school in the fall. There were several programs dealing with counselling that I was interested in, that could lead to a teaching certificate as well. (Those were the days before the requirements of a Bachelor of Ed Degree for teaching) It took a couple more weeks before I was up to snuff again physically, but emotionally I was drained. It was incredible to me how much the attack had taken out of me. There were time I would without any warning just burst into tears. Many nights I would wake up screaming in terror drenched in sweat. My parents would sometimes sit up with me for hours at a time trying to get me calmed down and back to sleep. (this was not something that would go away quickly, even some years later I would suffer every now and then by these re-occurring night terrors. My parents arranged for me to see a psychologist while I was at school that fall to help me cope. I found that other than costing my parents a fortune the man was not telling me anything I didn't already know, so after Christmas that year I dropped the sessions. I had cancelled the sessions with my last meeting before I went home for the holidays. My parents and I were much more open about my sexuality that summer. I found now that they were both very interested to know why I was the "way I was" Since I didn't know myself, there was not much I could tell them other than what I felt. That fact that being gay from the beginning had scared the hell out of me, and that I had done everything I could think of to be straight, helped them understand that it was not something that I had chosen for myself. I talked about Br Pat. How he had helped me when I was running scared, after I had run away from home. I was able to tell them some of the things that I had hidden from them about what happened to me when I had run away. That this incident was not the first time I had been raped. I told then again how I felt about Br. Pat and how I believed he loved me as well. Dad just sat and listened to me, asking questions every now and then to clarify this or that. Dad told me that because neither I nor the other boy we had met on the way to the conference at the school would give a clear statement about Br. Pat, no charges were being laid either on him. It was only the church that was punishing him, and as a result me. I missed him so much, now more than ever. It was now that I knew he would have taken me into his arms and comforted me. As much as was the comfort I received from my parents and as precious as that was to me, nothing could replace my need for his touch and reassurance and love. The fall and school brought with it diversion and helped me forget some of the horror of the summer and I was starting to heal emotionally. My parents were able to arrange a private room for me in the dorm, so no poor bloke would have to share the night terrors with me. I enjoyed school ,and made many new friends, but friends only. Any desire at the time for more than that just wasn't there. I don't know whether it was because I missed Br. Pat , or because of the rape or both, but I had not interest in being with anyone that fall. I saw Paul once, in the cafeteria early on in the semester. We talked briefly but he seemed to be in a hurry to be off. We didn't speak again after that. With the exams finished at the beginning of December, I was able to go home for a good long Christmas holiday. I wasn't looking forward to the 20 hour bus ride, but I was going home! Mom picked me up at the bus station and was quite happy it seemed to see me. She actually seemed to be almost over excited. I asked her a couple times if she was ok. "Yes son" she replied "Just happy to have you home" Dad met us at the door when we arrived, which surprised me. I thought he must have been at work and that was why he hadn't come to the Bus Depot. We hugged and he practically pulled me into the house. Mom said "You should see what we've done with the living room son" Her eye's sparkled and Dad just beamed. I looked at them quizzically, they just urged me to the living doors which were pulled together and closed. I walked to the door and pulled them open. At first I couldn't see anything different. The same furniture was there the same wall cover colours and floor coverings... The sun was shining bright through the French doors... because of the brightness at first I didn't notice ... Someone was standing over by the French doors "PAT!!!!!" I shouted... "PAT!!!!" It was Br. Pat coming toward me. I ran to him tears streaming down my face. I couldn't believe my eyes. We were in each other's arms, sobbing together our joy. I looked back at mom and dad... but the living room doors had been closed behind me. We kissed and kissed and hugged for several minutes before either of us could speak. "What are you doing here??? " I asked breathlessly. "Your parents brought me here to spend Christmas with you. They contacted Br Charles, who contacted me. Br. Charles found out very quickly after I was taken away, where I was." "I've left the order Mike, I'm a civilian now, I'm managing a small Super Market out west. It pays the bills." "I think it was you mom that I talked to first, about the middle of October. When she heard that I was no longer in the Order she had Br. Charles track me down. I don't know how she did it all and how she even found out I had left." We sat down on the chesterfield "I heard about what happened to you last summer, I wanted to come to you. Ohn Mikel you don't know how I wished I had been here to protect you and be with you last summer." "I wanted you so much Pat." Overcome now with emotion I leaned into his shoulder and sobbed, shaking in his arms. We sat down in the settee and and held each other for several minutes, as Pat comforted me. There was a soft knock at the door, ... "Mike!! You want to come here a minute?" It's Pat calling from the front office... It is 12 years later, Pat and I are living in Vancouver, where we run a counselling service and shelter for AIDs victims and young gay kids that have suddenly found themselves on the streets when their families found out they were gay. I walk into the front. There standing at the counter talking to Pat are Mum and Dad! I run over to them "You're here!" I shout as I give them each a hug. "We weren't expecting you till tomorrow" "We were able to catch an earlier flight and got out this morning" replies my Dad. "It is so good to see you!" I give them both a hug again. "I'm pretty much done for the day, George is going to be taking over till after New Years so we are free to go" We take a quick tour of the facilities making sure that everything is in order. We wish every one the best of the season and head for home with my/our folks in tow. Mum takes Pat's arm as we cross the street. It has been a great 12 years since that day Mum and Dad brought my Pat home to me.