Date: Wed, 21 Nov 2001 01:08:55 -0500 From: Tom Cup Subject: Kevin - Series Chapter 24 Kevin By Tom Cup Copyright 2000, 2001 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving youth/youth or adult/youth sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ This story is part of the Tom Cup Library For a list of the stories feature in the Tom Cup Library visit our website at http://tomcup.iscool.net and click the link to the Members Preview page. Be sure to cast your Vote in the Tom Cup Polls, view the excerpt from Calvin part 3, check out the launch of the Tom Cup Girlztown Library, and the New Coming of Age Film Section! We are pleased to introduce a very promising author in Richard Dean. His first work, "The Innocents" is now available to Library members. The story deals with an American who falls in love with a Brazilian street boy. This story is full of insights from Richard's experiences in Brazil. Also, we care about your ideas for the site so please do drop me a line with your input. We are continuing our modification of the site to make it the best of its kind. Your opinions matter! As always, thanks for your support; now on to the story. Tom and staff. ***********************************************************************Kevin Chapter 24 By Tom Cup Barb >From the biography of "The Lion of Bolognia:" "Come, little one. Come and sit with me." How do you describe love? I guess that's the question all great artists try to answer, the answer that all their labors try to describe. I wish I could point to a painting, or sculpture, or literary work and say, `ah, that is what I saw when I looked at Marie Bolognia, my mother. Then you would nod and weep because of her beauty, grace and love. You would understand why, every time she spoke, silence fell upon creation, as though the very angels themselves were afraid to miss one of her melodious tones. She smiled and the sun brightened. She laughed... and joy bubbled up from the center of your soul. I was thirteen and still she coddled me, wrapping her arms around me like a mother hen protecting her brood, smothering my cheek and forehead with kisses, until I would squirm and giggle like an out of control school girl. "Please mom.... Please," I squealed, "Please!" I was laughing with tears streaming down my face. Antonio was balled in a corner crying with laughter. She loved to make us laugh. I suppose I could describe what she did but it wouldn't be funny. It wasn't what she did that was funny. It was that she was doing it, that made it funny. Like eating pizza with a knife or kissing my forehead until I couldn't take it anymore. Sometimes she annoyed Antonio and I to no end. Only when we were beside ourselves would she suddenly say, about herself, what we would never even dream of saying, and the giggles would start. The giggles would continue, growing in intensity, until, like now, I was laughing so hard at what I couldn't remember that I cried. But I loved it. I loved the shear joy she brought to life. "OK," she said as Antonio and I struggled to regain control of ourselves. It worked best if we refused to look at one another. A glance, meeting each other's gaze for but a moment, suddenly became the catalyst for minutes of uncontrollable, suffocating, laughter. "I do want to talk about Barbara Greer." "Oh mom," I said. "Give it a break mom. He doesn't want to see her." Antonio clarified. "First, Kevin, your behavior is not civilized and stinks of fear." "I'm not afraid." "And second, Antonio, you are less than honorable for encouraging this behavior. Shame on you both." I didn't understand what she was saying. Neither did Antonio. In the end, Antonio and I stared at each other until we broke into laughter. Marie grabbed us and hugged us both. She kissed Antonio on the cheek and then turned and kissed me. We all laughed. That's how it was decided that I would see Barb. ***** Robby and Jimmy hugged their mother. They were, quite simply, happy to see her. They were to young to remember to hold her accountable for the misery that she had allowed in their lives. They told her how good she looked, asked if she was coming to get them -- "someday, maybe," she answered, "We'll have to wait and see what the court says. Mommy still has a lot of work to do." -- They asked about Chuck, of course. She assured them that he would not be back in their lives. She was through with losers. "So you made some progress," the counselor asked. The woman annoyed Barb. She asked Barb the questions, that Barb thought, the counselor was supposed to answer. How in the world was Barb supposed to know if she was making progress? Wasn't it the counselor's job to tell Barb if she was or wasn't making progress? Wasn't it the counselor's job to tell Barb what to do in order to make better progress? The woman was useless in these regards. She filled Barb's head with more questions each time they sat together to discuss Barb's week. "Can I ask you something?" Barb said. "Sure." The counselor didn't bother to look up from her writing. "Well, I come here and have a bunch of questions. I leave with those same questions and with the new ones you pile on top. How am I supposed to make progress if you never answer any of my questions?" "I'm not here to answer your questions for you Barb. I'm here to help you find your own answers." "Seems like I'm doing nothing but sitting here talking to myself. I can do that on my own." "What's bothering you Barb?" the counselor asked finally putting down the clipboard and focusing on Barb. Barb sighed. "I didn't know how much I had.... fucked up, OK. I mean, I thought I did and it hurt. But when I looked into Donna's eyes, when I think about the look in Kevin's eyes, they will never forgive me." "Maybe not. So what?" A gush of air escaped Barb's lungs. It wasn't a laugh, exactly. It wasn't an expletive. Yet, it had the force of both. Barb wanted to grab the woman by the hair and beat her senseless. She wanted to beat the counselor until she understood her pain, until she felt it ten thousand times as much as Barb. It was the only way that someone as smug, or stupid, as the counselor would ever understand. Barb glared at the woman. The counselor was smiling. It angered Barb even more. "How did that feel Barb? Did it hurt? You want to beat the shit out of me now? Do you? Do you want to kick my ass until I understand?" Barb's mouth dropped opened. Her mind went blank as the counselor sang on. "That's how you handle your kids, isn't it? If they don't understand or do what you say, you beat the shit out of them. But now you can't, can you? You can't solve your problems the way you use to, can you? You can't just beat them into submission and you can't beat me into submission. We can all tell you exactly how we feel and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. You don't want answers Barb you want an easy way out. You want someone to tell your children to behave, someone to tell them that mommy's all right. Well, you are not all right Barb and you won't be until you can handle the tough situations, the ones that piss you off, with reason and civility. That's what this is about Barb. It's about turning a barbarian into a civilized person." Barb was weeping bitterly and nodding. It was true. The counselor was right. She didn't want to go through months of painful negotiations with her children, winning a little here and losing a little there. She wanted the children to accept her as she was, accept the work she had already done. But they demanded more, the counselor demanded more. There would be nothing left of who she once was if they had their way, Barb understood. The fear of becoming someone she didn't know, even if that someone was far better than Barb could ever hope to be, stood in the way of her progress. That unknown person was the person the counselor wanted to see, the person Kevin and Donna wanted to see, the person that Tony Bolognia wanted to see. "Even if I tried to answer your questions for you," the counselor said, "the answers I gave would be my answers, not yours. You have to find your answers. So, as annoying as it is, I will continue to ask questions until you find your answers." Barb nodded and continued trying to wipe her face dry. Tears continued to fall. She was once again in that place where only one word made sense to her. Again, she repeated it. It echoed off of dark and empty walls deep within her. "Sorry...sorry...sorry...." ***** Rich maintain an emotionally dispassionate distance between himself, Mark and Craig. It wasn't that he didn't like his foster brothers; it was far more profound. He did like them. That was the first problem that he faced when he was placed with the Levy family. He liked the family immediately. No five children had ever been so carefully placed as the Greer children. They couldn't be placed together but Michael Robbins had kept Tony's word. He personally oversaw every foster placement. He reviewed and approved every suggested placement home, visited the home twice: once alone to view the environment and once with the children. He noted how all of the Greer children seemed resigned to accept whatever was put off on them. But he made a connection with each child and by the time the placements were made, the children understood that he was their lawyer. If they didn't like something they were to call him. He wasn't a push over, but he listened and told them honestly what he thought. Rich looked forward to the surprise visits he made: maybe once or twice a month, he'd show up at the house or school, take him out for a burger or ice cream, talk with him for an hour or so, and then take him home. Mr. Robbins had picked him up at school today. They had a burger together and then Michael gave him an envelope. It was an invitation from Kevin. Rich had to tell someone. He was going to see Kevin. His excitement washed away the dispassionate distance he'd placed between himself and his foster brothers. Meredith Levy stood in the hall, outside the door, listened as, at long last, Rich acted like a member of the family: talking, and laughing, freely, with Mark and Craig. She cried. Meredith Levy wasn't high on Michael's best foster home candidates list. But the social worker had convinced him that he really should consider the home for Rich. She had `a feeling' that it would be prefect. Michael thought the woman mad. Rich would be the only one of the kids to be placed alone and `Miss Social Worker,' as Rich called her, wanted to place him in a single parent home? Michael was convinced that Rich need to be in a two parent family and perhaps even be the only child in the home: no competition for the parents' attention. The social worker had strongly suggested a single mother with two kids and limited income; and Rich would be sandwiched as the middle child. He could see no way of approving the placement and considered visiting the home a waste of time. He wasn't sure to this day what he liked about Meredith Levy. The woman hadn't said very much but he liked her. He liked the way her kids responded to her and how she fussed about them and how they all seemed to genuinely love one another. He liked that. He wanted Rich to see that; he wanted the kid to be smothered in a mother's love. It had seemed to work. The kid was happy even if he pretended not to be. And Michael was happy for the kid. Rich complained about how Meredith always fussed about him, touching him, cleaning up after him, and Michael listened. "Sheesh, I was going to refilled my glass, I only put it down for a second, but she's like a ghost or something. I reached for it and it's gone. I go, `mom did you move my glass?' And yes she did! She had taken it and put it in the dishwasher. Like I make a mess or something." "So you call her `mom' now?" "Yeah, I know it's stupid but it makes her all happy." Michael smiled. "Well, I can get you out of there, get you another placement." "Naw, it's not that bad." "OK, you let me know." Yeah, the kid was happy. He was just afraid to show it. Rich didn't know how to deal with happiness. He was afraid to be happy because he couldn't bear the feeling of not being happy. Every moment of happiness Rich could remember had been torn away to reveal the pain underneath. Wasn't that the first thing Michael had learned about the boy? Chuck had beaten him, broken his ribs, left him near unconscious and suffering like a wounded animal. And why? Because Rich stopped to play with some friends after school. A moment's happiness turned into brutality and pain. Michael Robbins didn't stop to think very often about what his client's business might be. He knew instinctively that Tony Bolognia was a man use to power, a man that could be dangerous. But he remained, for the most part, hopeful that Tony's business was strictly import, export and acquisition of fine works of art. He never thought there would be a time when he would wish anything other of Tony Bolognia. But as he thought of the pain that Chuck had inflected on the Greer family, and as he thought of Rich, he hoped that Tony Bolognia was the type of man that could have someone killed, and that Chuck was dead. "So what do you know?" Tony asked as Michael opened the door to his office. "Well, I hope you know what your doing." "You know, I think you worry more than I do." "I have to worry." "Why, what'd you have to worry about?" "Why don't we just forget about the other kids? You have Kevin. He's the one that matters." "Yes and no. Yes, because he's part of the family. No, because Kevin loves his brothers and sisters. They're family because he's family." "OK. OK, please not another lecture about the importance of family." "OK, Mr. Big Shot what you got?" "Well, the kids are doing OK...the boys better than the girls..." "Women... I'll never figure them out." "Rich is doing better than most but he doesn't like to admit it. I thought he was going to burst when he got the invitation." Tony nodded. Michael knew the look. "What's bothering you Tony?" "The mother." "Everything checks out. She seems to be doing everything she can to get the other kids back." "Yes, I saw her. How could she not know?" "You see what you want to see, and remember she's been a drugger and boozer for a long time." "Yes, but still, how could she not know?" *********************************************************************** Send comments to: tom_cup@hotmail.com To support this and other stories by Tom Cup, join the Tom Cup Library at: http://tomcup.iscool.net. Now available exclusively at the Tom Cup Library: Donna: The serial story of the younger sister of Kevin. Barb, Chuck and Kevin have all left their imprints on this young girl's life. Can she overcome the hurt and pains left behind from the tragic events surrounding her life? Become a Tom Cup Library member today! Calvin Part 3: The continuation of the popular serial involving Christian, Rachel, and Calvin. Don't miss this one! ***********************************************************************