Date: Thu, 23 Nov 2006 20:24:25 +0000 (GMT) From: Nathan Me Subject: James chapter 32 'James' by Nathan New email address nathan7new@yahoo.co.uk Please note that email addresses listed previously are no longer active and I no longer use the groups mentioned there. My stories are now archived at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nathansstories/. This story contains material of a sexual nature and describes sexual acts between adults and children. If you find this kind of material offensive, if you are under the legal age to read such material or if it is illegal in your country, please do not read any further. My stories may contain some factual or autobiographical elements, but they are works of fiction and any apparent similarities of my characters to real people are not intended. This story is protected by copyright. It may not be downloaded, copied, printed or otherwise reproduced in any way other than for your private enjoyment and may not be changed in any way without express written consent of the author, me! I hope you enjoy this story. James: Chapter 32 "Ok, Tom, any questions?" Nita had been a school counsellor for six years and co- ordinator for volunteers for two years. Most of the volunteers were older than Tom and few were as good looking. She had to make a conscious effort not to flirt or give off signals. She wore an olive green ribbed, short sleeve top that accentuated her figure, and a pair of oatmeal slacks over a pair of comfortable brown trainers. She was about 5'4" and slim, but with the curves in all the right places. "No, I think I got it all, though I am a little brain numb from all the rules and regulations." He had to keep looking at her face and not let his eyes wander. Her top left nothing to the imagination. "Yeah, thank the government and social services for that. They like to legislate and regulate everything; how many times you chew your food, even. But, that is how we have to work and, for the sake of the kids, you have to know it all and how to make it work in their favour." "Can it? Work in their favour I mean. It seems like most of the stuff was written with no thought for the fact that they are living human beings with needs and feeling." "You are gonna fit in great here. We have to make it work for them. Sometimes we find that the school, or even the teachers and staff individually, have to stand between the authorities and the children to reduce the stupidity and harshness of an unfeeling system. We have to be a counsellor, an advocate and a surrogate parent. Anyway, don't get me started. I'd preach at you all day!" She got up and led the way out into the main hall. "We're taking a group out shopping this afternoon. Some of them are fairly new and we give them a small allowance so they can get a few personal things." "How may kids?" "Eight: six boys and a couple of girls. Believe me though, when it comes to shopping trips like this, boys are a lot easier to handle than the girls. Everything they say about women shopping is true." "Don't let the feminists hear you say that, Nita." "Too many of them in this business, let me tell you that for nothing. Most of them are left wing activists too." "Now, Nita, you're not perpetuating a stereotype here I hope." "Hey! How do you think stereotypes get created? You see enough of them and it creates the image you hold that typifies them. I just say it as I see it." They walked into the refectory and joined the lunch queue. The room was already half full of casually dressed kids eating either lasagne with a small salad and chips, or sweet and sour pork with rice, or a baked potato with various toppings. Nita and Tom both chose the lasagne. They sat with a couple of other Saturday volunteers who had almost finished their lunches and Nita did the introductions. The conversation revolved around the pranks the children might play on Tom, as he was a newcomer. The others seemed to take great delight in recalling their own experiences, but Tom was distracted. Three young boys had just entered the refectory, deep in conversation. Two were about twelve and the third was maybe seven, but, and from this distance it was just a resemblance, Tom was sure that one of the boys was James. It looked like the same boy he had seen in the gym. He couldn't be totally sure. The boy was in different clothes and was somewhat obscured by the other two. He suddenly didn't feel very hungry. "Are you Ok, Tom?" Nita asked. "Sorry, what?" "Are you Ok? You just went white as a sheet, like you saw a ghost or something." "Sorry." He turned back to them and searched for an excuse, "I just remembered some of the things we used to do to student teachers at school. I guess it's my turn to take it, eh?" "Too right." They finished their lunch, chatting about the various things Nita had done, or was planning to do, with the children. Tom stole occasional glances round the room, but he couldn't see where the boy had sat. He had lost sight of him as he and his companions had joined the lunch queue. He guessed there must have been over eighty kids, all noisily eating their Saturday lunch. They took their trays to the rack and Nita led him back to the office. "Right: a quick briefing on the kids we are taking out today. All of them have been here less than two weeks. The two girls are both fifteen and both from London Boroughs that couldn't place them locally. Mary is an orphan; her parents died of drug overdoses, which we think, or hope, were accidental. She wasn't hooked on drugs when she came, but had obviously had some experience of them. She has a big mouth, but is a great kid if you overlook that. Nicky is from Nigeria originally. She was being used as a house slave by distant relatives who had flown her over to serve them. She came to social services attention when a neighbour reported that she was pregnant. When Social services got there, she was bruised and beaten. She spent a couple of weeks in hospital and lost the baby. She is very quiet and does whatever she's told." "Are all their stories so sad?" "They don't come here if they have happy families." "Yeah. Sorry. It's just so..." He was lost for words. "I know. And the really sad thing is, that you get used to it." "What about the boys?" "Do you watch the news?" "Yes, fairly regularly. Why?" "These guys all been on the news lately. Two men used their own sons as rent boys, selling them to other men. When they got busy, they started kidnapping boys off the street and keeping them prisoner in their basement and selling them too. Really sad story. Four of them are really tight here; spend all their time together. The other two are a little older and seem not to want anything to do with the others." "Well, I guess I can understand that if they were kidnapped and made to do stuff." "I guess, but then why would the other one stick with them? Anyways, it splits like this: Chris is twelve and his brother, Danny I think is six. I'll have to check that in the file, I think he's six, or maybe seven. He's tiny and very cute, and their dad was the main man in the ring. Then there is Sam: he's thirteen and son of the second man that was arrested. His roommate is James. He's a real cutie too; twelve and gonna be a real heartbreaker." Tom's heart leaped. James... could it be? Nita was still talking. "Then there are the other two, Philip, who is 13 and like a beanstalk and Andrew, that's Andy actually and he thinks he's real tough. Already given a couple of the other boys here a bloody nose for saying things about him. They're all good kids really, just need someone to pull along side and help navigate the crap they're going through right now." Tom was struggling to concentrate. It couldn't be a coincidence. First, there was a boy who looked like James' twin and now, a twelve year old called James, who had been kidnapped off the streets. He needed more detail, but couldn't just out and ask for it. What could he do? How would James react if it were him? Shit! "So, when are we going?" He tried to make it sound a casual question, but his heart felt like it had jumped into his mouth. "Well, the kids are just finishing lunch now so, about 30 minutes, I guess. We have to go and check the minibus out first anyway. We have to check the fuel, brakes and all the lights each time we take it out, even though it's serviced regularly." "Where's it parked? I didn't see any garages anywhere." "The garages are in the service and maintenance building behind the Sports block." She jumped up and started towards the door. "Come on. Best way is to show you." She led the way out through a back door and across the yard to the sports block. Tom hadn't even noticed that the tarmac ran round behind the sports block to the maintenance buildings. Of course, now he saw it, it was obvious that it should. It also ran back round the other side of the main school in a wide sweeping arc, allowing the vehicles access to the front without crossing the play area. There were four up and over doors and two were already open. Both housed white minibuses and Nita walked through the garage to an office and selected a key from a pegboard. Once inside the garage area, Tom saw that there was a vehicle maintenance pit and fully equipped workshop, as well as a sit on lawnmower, an MPV and the two busses. Nita unlocked the left hand bus and climbed into the driver's seat. She pulled out onto the tarmac drive and parked. "Can you go round back and check that the lights are working? Call out each one you see." "Left indicator." "Ok." "Right indicator." "OK." "Brakes." "Fine." "Reversing." "Great. Now come round front and check those." They repeated the procedure at the front and then Tom climbed into the passenger seat and Nita drove round to the front of the building, checking the brakes a couple of times as she went. Once they reached the stone steps, she parked, locked up the bus and led the way back up the steps into the school. As Tom followed her through the large wooden doors, there, coming down the main staircase, with the afternoon light streaming through the huge windows and creating a golden halo in his hair, was James. There was no doubt now. This angelic vision was his James. The boy was walking with three others he recognised from Nita's brief descriptions. They were all engrossed in conversation, but as James came to the bottom step he turned to look at Nita and saw Tom. He froze. There was no doubt now, the man he had seen was Tom. He looked into the man's eyes, expecting to feel anger, but all he wanted to do was run too him and embrace him. There was no way he was going to do that. He was angry. He wanted to be angry. How had Tom found him? What right did this man have to come back into his life, just as everything seemed to be settling down again? He swallowed hard. Confused, he remained frozen to the spot. Sam realized James had not kept pace and turned to see why. He saw the confusion on James' face and couldn't make sense of it at first. He followed James' gaze to a man Sam recognised. Where had he seen him before? He turned back to James, grabbed his hand and said, "Come on slowcoach. We've a bus to catch." "Oh, er, yes." James moved one heavy foot forwards and then the next, gaining momentum. "Right, boys. I want you to meet Tom. He's a new worker here and he'll be here on Fridays and Saturdays for the next few weeks. So same rules and respect for Tom as all the workers, Ok?" The boys muttered ok, staring at the new worker. James stared at him silently, eye to eye. What he saw was not the arrogance or cockiness he remembered, not the confidence that Tom had exuded, but a scared, almost timid, man. What was going on? Tom wanted the floor to open up and swallow him. He had dreamed of finding James, what he would say, how he would apologise? He couldn't take his eyes off James, until another boy, whom he thought he also recognised, asked why only two days a week? "I have another job in the city, but my company are releasing me one day a week and I'm giving up one day of my weekend." He was surprised to find his voice came out normally. He had expected a dry mouth and possibly even to be completely dumb. "So what's your job then?" Sam asked. "I work with money." "Wish I did." Sam laughed. The others followed suit, each making up their own joke about their lack of money. The moment was broken and all the boys were talking at once, with Nita trying vainly to answer each of them. Tom looked at James again. The boy was still focused on him. He'd have to try and find a moment alone with him to explain, apologise. It wasn't going to be easy, but then Tom didn't think he deserved easy. Two more boys joined then and Nita went looking for the girls. Tom fielded questions from five boys, but James remained silent. Sam kept glancing sideways at James. He remembered this was the man he had seen coming out of the headmasters office and he also remembered the brief conversation where James had told him about Tom. If this was Tom, that would explain James' silence. Shit, of course it was Tom. Nita had said it was Tom. Obviously the school didn't know what Tom was, or they wouldn't have let him work with the kids. So, what should he do: should he tell on Tom and get him sacked? What did James want? He knew James was as confused about his feelings for Tom as he was about his dad. He also knew he would do anything to protect James. Nita returned with the two teenage girls in tow, but neither looked too happy about it. She led them all out to the minibus, got them in, seated and belted up. The trip to the local shopping centre took only fifteen minutes, but James sat silently. Chris and Danny were arguing about what they were going to spend their money on. Andy was teasing Mary and she was giving back as much verbal abuse as she was getting. Sam kept glancing at James, wondering what was going on in his head. He saw Tom look back at them a few times. He didn't know whether to hate or like the man. He found Tom naturally attractive, but in his sessions with the psychologist he had started questioning whether he was even gay or not. Maybe it was just what he had been forced to do, and given a free choice he would never have even thought about sex with men. Trouble with that was, you couldn't rewrite your history and so he did have sexual thoughts about men and boys and even still did stuff with James. Shit! Now he felt guilty: what if he was abusing James like Trev and his dad had him and James wouldn't normally choose to do stuff if it was totally his own choice. Sam was getting more and more upset and confused. James was slowly coming to terms with the fact that, whether by chance or design, Tom had found him. He still wasn't sure how he felt about that, but it was a fact he now had to deal with. He watched Tom turn around to catch he eye. He didn't respond: he just started back at him. By the time they reached the shopping centre, Nita had had to tell off Andy and Mary so often, well, it was obvious Andy liked Mary a lot. James wondered why boys did that? He felt his hand sweating and realised than Sam had gripped it so tight it was getting hot and sticky. He pulled his away and wiped it on his jeans. He looked up at Sam. "Is that him?" Sam whispered in his ear. "Uh?" "Your Tom?" "I guess." "You ok about him being here? Or, or do you want me to tell Nita he's a perv?" James stared back at him. What did he want? He really didn't know. He needed time to decide. "Don't say anything yet. Let's talk about it later and I'll decide then. I don't know how he found me or why he's here." "Ok. Just so you know I'm here for you." "I know that, Sam, and thanks." He took his friends hand again and squeezed it. Nicky saw them and smiled coyly at them. James smiled back, just as Tom turned again. Tom saw the boy smile. His heart skipped a beat. James, James, James! More to come...