Finding Love: A Journey
(© 2007 by the author)
Disclaimer: This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual
activities between males. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where
viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or
homosexual themes, leave this site now.
The characters in this story do not always practice safe sex. Remember this is fiction. You should always use a condom for the your protection and especially for the protection of the one you love. The author recommends only safe sex. Be wise and follow safe sex practices.
Several songs are quoted in this story. The copyrights to these are held by the artists or their publishers and not by the author. They are quoted as a tribute to the artist and the piece.
All persons in this story are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
All other disclaimers apply. The author retains all rights. No reproductions
are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
"You asshole, you have never
seen me with a droopy dick," laughed Todd.
"You can show me your prick at various stages of stimulation while we take a shower. Come on, baby.
The shower was a short one, but before they left the stall, they had pleasured each other.
Brad and his father left the
motel by 6:30 in the morning. Travis drove to a McDonald's where he
used the drive through. He ordered four Egg McMuffins, four medium
orange juices and one black coffee. He drove to the pickup window,
paid for the breakfast, and handed the bag of food to Brad.
After driving a few city blocks, Travis pulled the car into the parking lot of a large mall. He drove to a far corner of the lot where he stopped the car. He turned and looked at Brad who was sitting quietly in the back seat. He had moved to the far corner of the back seat with the sack of food resting on the seat next to him. His dad had a pang of sorrow at what he was putting his son through, but he assured himself that it was the best thing to do.
"Are you hungry, Brad?" asked his dad.
"Yeah, I could eat something. Last night's pizza is long gone," Brad said.
His father reached back and took the McDonalds bag from the back seat. He began to remove the items, and as he did, he handed some of the contents to Brad. He kept the hot coffee, one orange juice, and one Egg McMuffin for himself. Brad had the rest on the seat beside him.
"I hope that's enough, Brad. If it isn't, we can go back and get something else."
"It will be fine, Dad. It will take care of my hunger," suggested Brad.
The two ate in silence. Brad was ravenous and in a short time, only wrappers and empty orange juice containers remained. It was a relief to have his hands free to eat. Of course, his feet were tied and a cord from them ran into the front of the car where his father had tied it to a metal brace on the passenger seat. Brad knew he was not going anywhere soon. He relaxed, his stomach now filled. He leaned his head back against the side of the vehicle, sighed deeply, and closed his eyes. If only he didn't always see Jacob when he closed his eyes, and some of the images of Jacob still unnerved him.
"Brad, we're going to drive around for a while. I can't get you to the school too early. They don't register new students until after noon. It's crazy, but those are the rules. So we need to kill some time. If you want you can take a nap. Here are a couple of magazines, and if you want, I have my Bible. I apologize for this delay," his father said.
"I think I'll try to take a nap. Thanks for the food and the magazines. I don't want the Bible at the moment, maybe later," Brad said.
So began the ride around, first in the small city of Valdosta, and then into the outskirts and onto country roads. Travis stopped twice allowing Brad to relieve himself. Later in the morning they returned to Valdosta where Brad noticed a large contingent of police in a parking lot. He thought he saw the limousine he had noticed last night, but he dismissed it, realizing that most limousines resemble each other. It was nearly eleven in the morning now, and Brad realized that he had to move now, or he would not be able to escape. But how? As he thought about it, his father was at the drive through at McDonalds where he ordered food for himself and Brad.
Again, his father drove a short distance to the same parking lot where he stopped the car. He handed Brad his Big Macs, fries, and cola. They ate in silence. As hungry as Brad was, the food seemed tasteless, but he consumed it knowing that he would need it to keep up his strength and energy. He handed his father the remnants of his lunch which disappeared into the bag and then onto the floor in front of the passenger seat.
While his father was attending to the ritual of cleanup, Brad carefully studied the cord which was holding him captive. He didn't see any reasonable way he could escape from it. He would wait until his father released him at the school. Certainly someone there would help him when they knew he had been kidnapped. Someone surely would care. Brad had noticed a number of police cars whisking by, but he thought little of it. He had more important things to think about.
`It's about time, Brad. Are you ready?" asked his father.
"No. I don't want to go to that school. I know that it really isn't a school, Dad. It's some kind of stupid religiously run place where they are going to try to make me forget Jacob and become a heterosexual. It won't work, Dad. I`ll never forget Jacob! I'll never deny him!" shouted Brad.
"We'll see." said his father, a terrible smugness echoing in his voice.
At the staging area there were
familiar faces when we arrived in the limousine. The first person I
spotted was Father Jim. Almost immediately I saw Gary, then my
father, and John Li. I didn't see any of the women who had been
intimately involved with the business of the last few days. I
wondered how they had been able to talk Sadie out of coming to the
staging area. My thoughts were interrupted when I saw Todd kiss
Tim's ear, whispering as he did. I guessed he said that he loved
him. I saw Tim blush and turn his head, their lips meeting in a
gentle kiss. That was when the limousine came to a stop. Kev was
already speaking with Raymond on the intercom.
Shortly thereafter, Raymond opened the door and assisted Kev in getting me and my wheelchair out of the limousine. The other guys followed with Chris taking up the rear. My friends stood in a small group waiting. My father saw us first and hurried to me. He dropped to one knee and taking my hand he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.
"Are you feeling okay, Son?" asked my father.
"I'm okay, Dad. I just want this to be over. I just want Brad back. Please, Dad, don't let anyone hurt Brad, please."
"Don't you worry, Jacob, I'll make certain that Brad doesn't get hurt. I don't want you worrying about that," said my father, who I thought was fighting to keep his voice steady and certain.
My friends had unknowingly formed a protective wall around me. Father Jim arrived at the group which parted not unlike the Red Sea . Jim approached me and bent down to speak to me.
"How's it going, Jacob?" he asked.
"I . . . I'm okay. Father, please pray for Brad. I'm scared, Father. I'm worried that something bad will happen to him. I need you to pray for him," I said.
Chris Mason was now standing next to my father, and Jim was looking at me with great concern in his eyes.
"Chris, please come closer and join Mr. Neilson, Jacob and me for a moment," said Jim.
When Chris had joined us, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it so hard I thought I might call out, but I didn't. My Dad had his hand on my shoulder and Father Jim was holding Chris's other hand. He said to us,
"Let's say a quiet prayer."
Tim had heard and he wanted in on the prayer. He quickly joined our group and interrupted Father Jim. He placed his hand on Jim's shoulder, and joined now by Kev, Todd and the others, demanded,
"Father Jim, we all admire you, but you're wrong not to include all of us in this prayer. We all love Jacob and Brad; that's why we're all here. So please, include us."
Father Jim smiled, and said in an inviting and casual voice,
"Please join hands and pray with us."
All my dear friends clasped hands and joined Father Jim and us in a simple but moving prayer.
"Almighty Father, Creator of all things, we ask You to protect our friend and brother Brad, keeping him from harm. We also ask that You wrap Jacob in Your loving arms and give him courage and strength. For all of us, send the grace we will need to act with diligence, constraint, and intelligence to rescue Brad. We ask this in Jesus' name. Amen!"
A chorus of "Amen" followed.
Sadie was angry! No amount of
soothing talk from Lorraine Li would appease her. It was wrong not
to include them, especially Beth Mason, from going to Georgia to be
there when they rescued Brad.
Lorraine Li was well aware of Sadie's anger, and inwardly she was angry, too. But she had learned in her lifetime that anger does not help anyone. Anger is destructive, ripping away all the characteristics which make us human.
Beth Mason was unaware of most of the chatter between the two women. Her mind, her being, was not present, but was wandering somewhere away, maybe in Georgia , maybe in Florida , maybe at the terrible place where Travis was taking Brad. Deep in her soul she was more hurt than angry. Her place was to be where she could take Brad into her arms and comfort him. What good was she here in Florida , a prisoner of sorts?
But the men had been unanimous in the decision. No women to worry about getting harmed. It would be difficult enough watching the boys and keeping them from being hurt and away from the real action. The boys, they had promised, at least Brad, Chris and Jacob would be coming back in a helicopter. Who joined then on the `copper would be decided there. The other boys would return in the limousine.
All this was no tonic for the distress the three women were feeling. This was no cure for the all-encompassing agony of not knowing. This was no balm for the anguish which was ravaging their souls. But as women throughout the millennia have so often suffered in silence, so would Beth, Sadie and Lorraine.
Wilfred Comstock was uneasy.
There was something about the arrangement he had made with Mason
about his son Bradley that unnerved him. The sooner the exchange
was made the better he would feel. He put some files back in the
cabinet, signed a couple of letters, and finally rang for Grant.
There was a gentle knock at the door. Comstock looked to the doorway, but held his voice for a moment. How was he going to handle this today? After last night with Grant he didn't wish to screw it up. He chuckled. `Maybe,' he thought, `screw wasn't the best word.' He just wanted to keep things as they were now. He and Grant were happy together.
"Come in, Grant."
The door opened and Grant came into the room. He smiled at Comstock whose resolve flowed away.
"Yes, what can I do for you?" asked Grant with a snicker.
Comstock smiled, looked directly into Grants eyes, and said,
"You could repeat last night, but that isn't what we have to take care of at the moment. I need two good sized orderlies to get Bradley out of the car. I don't want you involved, at least not then. After we get Brad in the office, I want you to stay with me. There are some things we need to have him do that he's not likely to care about. You know the routine: he'll have to strip; we have check the anus for contraband, then he has to get into the jumpsuit. It's a pain, but it has to be done in here with a witness. Why don't you get Kirblonsky and Scullay to get the kid out of the car?"
"Yeah, they'd be good. No high school guy is going to give them much trouble. Kirblonsky is a little rough. Scullary will do what he's told."
"Do you think we shouldn't use Kirblonsky?
"No, he'll be okay," Grant assured Comstock. "Now, about last night."
"That can wait for a better time. Move your stuff into my room. I want you with me, at least until Colechester gets back."
"Gotcha! I'll take care of all that stuff. Anything else?"
"Not at the moment, but later you can count on it."
Brad felt the heavy weight of
an impending defeat. He had run through a number of scenarios for
escape in his mind, but in each instance the outcome was
unproductive. Finally, with a soul-rasping sigh, he gave up, at
least for the immediate future. There would be a time and a place
where escape could be a reasonable possibility.
Brad's father remained silent as the car traveled through the Georgia countryside moving inextricably toward the confrontation that was about to occur at the so-called school. As the minutes passed before his appointed doom, Brad's mind wandered. Was this to be the outcome of the journey he and Jacob had happily embarked upon together? Had he somehow become the recipient of this terrible eventuality simply for loving Jacob? No, that couldn't be! The imminent drama of his young life could not be a culmination; perhaps it might be a fresh beginning for Jacob and him. They would find a place to love each other without suffering the agony they had experienced in the last few days.
"We're here, Brad. Sit up and look like the son I know that you are. And Brad, please no histrionics, no confrontations. Just go with the orderlies and begin your schooling. I will be back to see you in a few weeks. Later, perhaps your mother will forgive me and come to see you, too. Are you ready?"
"Brad, I'm speaking to you!"
"Yes, Father, I hear you, but this may be the last time you and I speak to each other. After what you are doing to me, I may not ever want to see you or to speak to you again. I hope that makes you happy. You'll have two sons whom your actions have driven away because of your narrow-mindedness, and your willingness to listen to religious nuts. You'll spend the rest of you life regretting what you have done to us. I hope that Mom will give you the door. You'll be alone. I want you to suffer as much as you have caused us all to suffer. I have nothing more to say to you," Brad said, his voice breaking.
"This is Travis Mason. My son Bradley is being enrolled today," said his dad speaking into the intercom as they waited at the gate.
Brad shuddered as he looked at the antique and imposing building which resembled a fortress. He wondered how long he would be held here against his will. He was eighteen, didn't that make a difference? His father drove through the open gate and down the gravel road to the front entrance of the building. Brad looked back at the gate and saw it closing, capturing him.
His father stopped the car, turned off the engine, and together they waited. Shortly two orderlies, one of them a huge shaven- headed man came immediately to the car and opened the back door. The smaller dark haired orderly had pointed features and deep set tiny eyes, his face reminiscent of a rat. Brad noticed that his father sat silent and looked straight ahead. He had chosen not to look at his son perhaps because he was feeling guilt or he had received instructions from the school.
The big orderly reached in and cut the cable tie holding Brad's legs. He then reached for Brad, who in a moment of courage, told him,
"Don't touch me! I can move and I'll go with you. I have no reason to fight you. It is my father who has thrust me into this situation. Just lead the way and I'll follow you."
Kirblonsky moved away allowing Brad to exit the car. He reached back and slammed the door, and as if on signal, his father started the car and drove rapidly toward the gate which Brad could see from the top of the entrance steps. It opened slowly, but before he could watch more, the smaller orderly had opened the door through which Brad passed, without any assistance from the two orderlies, and into the school.
Travis Mason drove as fast as
the tears in his eyes would allow toward the gate which opened
slowly allowing him to leave. As soon as he was outside the gate
and had driven a short distance down the county road, his car was
immediately surrounded by police cars. A trained officer had
disabled the gate so that it wouldn't close.
Immediately an officer appeared at the window of the car and motioned with his pistol for Travis to lower his window. Travis did as he was instructed. The officer barked,
"Get out of the automobile immediately! You're under arrest for the kidnapping of Bradley Mason."
Travis Mason leaned his head on the steering wheel, took a deep breath, opened the door, and got out of the car. He now knew that he was in trouble, serious trouble.
The officer continued to read Mason his Miranda rights. Two other officers quickly handcuffed Mason and led him to a waiting cruiser. Another officer drove Mason's car further down the road where it was quickly loaded on to a tow truck.
A convergence of officers and vehicles met at the gate. Father Jim, Gary, Doug Neilson, John Li, and Detective Roger Gimple had joined Sheriff Conklin, Colonel Everett Anders of the Florida State Highway Police, Special FBI Agent William Flowers, and Colonel Craig Smithers of the Georgia State Highway Police. Father Jim, Gary, and John Li stood back from the group of lawmen. Gary had already made his presence known to Bill Flowers of the FBI. The agent had welcomed him, expressing his concern about the events of the past few days.
The lawmen, with the addition of Gimple, were reviewing the plans for the day's encounter. There was a strong measure of concern about the safety of the boy, but additionally the police were very concerned about the regular officers who might be caught in situations with a gun totting father. Great care would need to be taken to protect the men.
It was decided that Sheriff Conklin would be the officer in charge since he had been actively involved with the case from the onset. He had asked that Gimple be his assistant since he was knowledgeable about Travis Mason and his relationship to his wife and sons.
Before they could get the plan reviewed and finalized, Lydia M. Tetro, from the Georgia Department of Child Protective Services arrived. She insisted that the Service be included in the plan since there was concern about the young people who would be found in the colony. What would happen to them if it was necessary to close down the operation? That was of vital interest to the State of Georgia . Everyone agreed that it was important to have her expertise.
Father Jim was asked to assist her when they arrived at the colony. A bus carrying twenty five carefully selected and trained counselors provided by Protective Services would be at waiting to help the students who would be displaced. Gary and Special Agent Flowers would also be in this grouping because of the nature of the rumored activities at the colony. Boys were being abused according to the rumors.
Finally, Sheriff Conklin asked Doug Neilson and John Li to take charge of the young men who were here to assist. He told them to take up a position at the rear of the property where there was another gate. Perhaps, it was reasoned, the staff might use that as an avenue for escape.
There were to be no weapons for the group, but two-way radios would be provided for the contingency that a serious problem should occur and backup would be necessary. Conklin estimated that officers could be on the site in less than five minutes. Obviously, the lawmen didn't anticipate any problems. Nonetheless, Doug Neilson and John Li were uneasy.
The long awaited message finally came: Travis Mason had been apprehended after leaving the Colony. Immediately the plan went into action sending officers and vehicles moving rapidly to take up their assigned positions. Captain Clyde Newsome was the commander of the SWAT team which would be the first group to enter the school. Newsome had some reservations about the plan because there was no high ground and no nearby buildings that his team could use to an advantage. It appeared as if it would have to be a frontal attack which would put his men in jeopardy. But it was a job that had to be done and he and his men were trained to accomplish an assignment. His only hope was that the police helicopters would be able to inform him of any important details that could not be seen from the ground. They moved forward toward the school, their objective clear: capture the building without injury to anyone inside.
That would be difficult.
I was pissed! How could I help
rescue Brad if I and the rest of my friends were relegated to
watching the back door. When my father had revealed the plan to the
group, I had gone a little crazy, screaming at everyone, striking
out at my friends, until finally my Dad and Mr. Li restrained me.
I was shocked, especially when my father told me that he would send
me back to Valdosta in the limo. That really quieted me down.
"Listen to me, Jacob," my father said, "this is no time for such silliness. We have a job to do and by God we're going to do it with or without you. Now get with it, Jacob!"
Chris had come over to me while the rest of the group stayed back, shocked by my behavior and wary of my father after his emotional outburst at me. Chris took my hand and tried to calm me,
"Jake, try to think of Brad and what he might be going through right how. I'll wager he's taking it all because he wants to be able to get out of there so that he can be with you. You have to understand, Jake, that no one wants you or Brad to get injured, or God forbid, killed. So if the guys running this show, all of whom are experienced, have designed everything keeping Brad and your safety paramount, you have to do as you're asked. Brad is counting on all of us, but especially on you, to get him out of this damnable place. So cool it, Jake."
I was ashamed of myself and I didn't want to look at anyone. Chris moved away, letting me stew in my own juice, so to speak. Little did any of them know the depth of my personal agony as my mind ran awry with horrible images of my lover. So intense had that gotten that I wished to pass out so that perhaps they would stop. I knew that I had to get control because if I didn't I would be of no use to anyone, but especially not to Brad. The tears started again so I clumsily turned my chair away from everyone hoping my tears were not too obvious. It was Kev who came to me, knelt beside me and gave me a peck on the cheek.
"Look, Buddy, this didn't turn out the way any of us thought it would. You know, we all thought we'd be the heroes finding Brad and bringing him to safety and to you. But wiser men than us know that this mission is fraught with danger. They don't want any of us hurt, especially Brad. I know that's the way you want it, too. Anyway, Jake, try to put your mind on how great it will be to have Brad back with you. Concentrate on that thought, that wonderful reunion. It's what we all want and we know your dad wants that as much as you, but he also doesn't want you hurt any more than you have already been. You have a lot of love flowing to you, Jake, take it and wrap yourself in it. I guarantee it will give you the strength you need."
I pulled Kev to me and hugged him tightly. He smiled at me and kissed me again, only this time it wasn't just a peck. It gave me strength. All the other guys came over and I was filled with awe at how much they all loved Brad and me.
Brad was taken down the
corridor to a door with a sign that read, "Principal". The big guy
knocked on the door.
"Got the Mason kid here, sir," answered the big guy.
"Bring him in."
The smaller of the two orderlies opened the door, and the big guy gave Brad a gentle push and he stumbled into the room. He had expected an older man as principal, but a young, handsome man sat behind the desk. He looked Brad over slowly and nodded to another young guy who was also handsome and very sexy. Brad hated himself for those thoughts but his observations were accurate.
"My name is Wilfred Comstock. I'm in charge of this place temporarily while the Reverend Colechester is in the hospital. This is my assistant Grant Specter; he'll be helping me with your orientation."
He shuffled through some papers on his desk. As he did Specter really looked Brad over making him feel very uncomfortable. Comstock looked up from the papers on his desk and said,
"Let's see, your name is Bradley Mason. Do you have a middle initial or name?"
"Kyle," Brad answered.
"That's a nice name," said Specter with a strange smile.
`You're eighteen, right?"
"Are you here or your own free will?"
"Of course not, who would be?"
"So you'd rather not be here, right?"
"How did you get here?"
"My father kidnapped me, shot my boyfriend and brought me here. You guys are going to be in big trouble it you keep me here against my will," Brad said.
"We'll see," said the principal.
"Do you know why you're here?" asked Specter.
"Because I'm gay and my father thinks you can make me straight and then I won't be damned to hell."
"You don't think that's possible, Bradley?" asked Comstock.
"Hardly, do you?"
"We've had some success, Bradley. How would you explain that?" he asked.
"I don't have to explain anything. I consider all of this illegal, contrary to reason and a crock of shit!"
"Watch your mouth, kid, or you'll get a slap in the head," warned Specter.
"Cool it, Grant. Let the boy tell us how he feels. It's only fair," suggested Comstock.
"Okay, Willie, but he's a wise ass if you ask me."
"I don't mean to be a wise ass. I'm angry that I was kidnapped and brought here. I know they'll be looking for me because my father shot Jacob. I don't even know if he's alive, for God's sake," Brad said as his voice cracked.
"Look, Bradley, I can't do much about what happened between you and your father. In Georgia you are not independent until you're twenty-one, so you are still under your father's control. Let's try to get through the rest of this so that you can take a walk around the school with Grant. Now try to stay calm.
First, take off all your clothes."
"What the fuck!" Brad shouted.
"Bradley, we have to be sure that you are not bringing any contraband into the school, drugs, etc. Understand?"
"Please do as I ask. I don't want to have to send for the orderlies to strip you," Comstock said calmly.
"Want me to strip him?" asked Grant.
"No, I think Bradley can take care of it himself."
Brad didn't answer. Instead he slipped off his sandals, pulled his T-shirt off, and dropped his shorts and underwear. Naked, he stood there before the two young guys who were pretty blatantly ogling him. Embarrassed, Brad dropped his hands down to cover his cock and balls.
"Fuckin' hot," whispered Grant.
"Hmmm," was Willie's answer.
Brad saw Grant pulling on rubber gloves and his heart sank. What were these bastards about to do to him? Comstock got up from the desk, came around the front of it and sat back on it. He kept looking at Brad. In the meantime Grant was applying something to his rubber gloves. Shortly he joined Willie and the two of them stared at Brad, Willie even licked his lips. `Fuck," he thought, "these two pricks are gay!'
With a snicker, Comstock told him,
"You can take your hands from covering your cock, Brad. We're guys, made the same as you, so you don't have to hide it."
Brad didn't move. Grant smirked as he walked over to him. He grabbed Brad's wrists, his own hands slippery with lube, and pulled his hands away from covering his privates. Comstock moved to Brad, and smiling, reached out and took Brad's cock into his hand and stroked it a couple of times."
"Very nice," breathed Willie with a gasp.
"You have a nice cock, Bradley," said Grant as he fell to his knees before him
Before Brad could say or do anything, Grant had Mason's cock deep in his mouth and Brad was suddenly getting hard even though he didn't want to. Willie started playing with Brad's balls, and was soon on his knees licking and sucking them.
"Please, please. This isn't right. What the hell kind of a place is this?" Brad practically screamed.
Neither of them answered but continued to work on his cock and balls. Then Grant reached between Brad's legs and slipped a lubed finger up his tight asshole. Brad jumped, but they didn't stop.
<Knock, Knock, Knock!>
"What?" screamed Willie as he stopped working Brad' balls.
"'Sumpins wrong, man. The gate won't close and we can see cops, lots of cops. I'm getting the fuck outa here. You guys can do whatcha want," yelled Kirblonsky.
Grant rushed to the door, pulled it open and grabbed Kirblonsky by the neck. He knocked him to the ground and kicked him in the guts. Comstock was right behind him.
"Stop!" Willie shouted.
But Grant's frustration was high and he continued to pummel Kirblonsky who had rolled into a ball trying to protect his face and head. As the little battle continued, Brad quickly got dressed and looked for a way out of the office.
He spied a back door and ran to it, opened it and fled into the corridor. He kept running and praying. Maybe he could get out of this terrible place. Maybe there's a back door. Then he saw it: a heavy, ornate door. Could it be his escape route? Brad quickly ran to it and crashed into the door. It opened into utter darkness, and he fell forward down the stone steps into a dank and fetid room. Brad reached out in front of himself trying to break his fall. His hand hit the cold floor and he felt excruciating pain in his shoulder. He hit his head hard on the floor.
Then it was oblivion.
I insisted that I should be
allowed to walk around a little. My leg was really fine and it
didn't hurt much to walk. I had made up my mind that I didn't want
to meet Brad sitting in a wheelchair. If I did that he would take
on all the guilt that belonged to his father.
My Dad wasn't really happy about it and I thought he would refuse to let me walk, but in the end he did. I don't know what John Li said to him, but after they talked, my father capitulated.
Chris, of course, had been on my side as were the other guys since they would not allow me to get into any trouble. I was in those `good hands' like at Allstate. Chris had become my official protector even though he himself was still healing and I could tell that some movements hurt him like hell. Except for my leg which sometimes hurt a little, I was fine. I had no headache or anything that would signal a problem from the concussion. Everyone was milling around the limo waiting for something to happen. Chris rolled me away from all the jostling which the guys were into. It was obvious to me that they had anticipated more physical action, and the waiting, however necessary, was boring to them.
When we were away from them and could talk, Chris started by asking me,
"When did you know that you were in love with Brad?"
I couldn't help but smiling as I thought about that first meeting, the moment I fell head over heels for him. Chris noticed the big smile so added,
"Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?"
"I fell in love with him the minute I saw him and he smiled at me. Chris, he helped me when everyone else would have made fun of me. He's so gentle and caring. Just touching him sends electric-like tremors through my body."
"You got it bad for my brother. He's an amazing person. He stayed with me when the rest of the family shunned me. He continued to love me as his brother even though I was gay. I love him so much, Jacob. If my fucking father has done anything to hurt him, I'll . . . I'll . . ."
"Don't say it, Chris. Please don't say it. Try to forgive your father. I think underneath all his stupid actions he loves you both. He just isn't able to accommodate his love for you and his belief that homosexuality is wrong," I said.
"I'll try, but what will you do if he has hurt Brad? Tell me, Jacob, what will you do?"
"I'll take care of Brad first. After that, Brad and I will deal with your father. Unless Brad can forgive him, our love for each other won't be complete. And I bet Peter feels the same way. Reconciliation is the only intelligent and right thing to do."
"I guess," Chris mumbled.
"Chris, Brad really loves you more than you know. When he told me thst you were gay, he said if I didn't like that, he would be sorry, but that he would have to go with you. I knew by then that he really was in love with me, and I think at that moment I grew to love him even more because he wouldn't cast you aside for me. You were his brother; I was a new guy he really liked, but it was an easy sacrifice for him because he loves you so much, so deeply," I told him.
Giant tears were running down Chris' cheeks. He knelt down and we embraced, both of us emotionally drained. Chris was trying to speak, taking in huge gasps of breath, and finally he was in control enough to say,
"My God, Jacob, no wonder you love my brother. No wonder!"
"Yeah, he's a special person. I love him so much that I can't imagine being alive without him. I pray constantly that God will keep him safe."
"LOOK AT THE GATE!" screamed Kev.
Everyone turned and Chris hurriedly pushed me toward the gate. It was opening. The guys started to move toward the gate, but my father and Mr. Li stopped them.
"We have to let the police know what's happening. Then maybe we can go in," my dad said.
Mr. Li went a little away from the group and spoke into the two-way radio. He returned almost immediately.
"They have people inside the school. They want us to hold up for a bit. They've made some arrests, but, but...," he stammered.
"What about Brad?" I screamed.
"He's not there. No one knows where he is," said Li in a deadly monotone.
Before Comstock or Grant could
do anything more with Kirblonsky the three of them were surrounded
by SWAT members who pointed ominous looking guns at them. They were
ordered to lie on to the floor on their stomachs, spread eagle. The
quickly did as ordered. Rough hands searched them for weapons.
None were found and they were herded into the office. The officer
in charge took off his headgear.
"Who's in charge here?" he barked.
"I am," said Comstock, "my name is Wilfred Comstock. This is my assistant Grant Specter. The orderly is Gerard Kirblonsky."
"Where is Bradley Mason?"
Suddenly it became apparent to Comstock and Specter that the kid wasn't in the room. His clothes were also gone. Where was he? Beads of perspiration began to form on Comstock's forehead. Both of them sensed the captain's irritation.
"Well, where is the young man? We know he was here and we know he was in this office because your orderly Scullay told us that much."
"I don't know where he is. He was here and then we both went to deal with Kirblonsky. He's not here now. I don't know what to tell you," said Comstock.
"Do you think he escaped through the back door?" asked Grant.
"Maybe. It's the only way out of this room since we were standing in the front door," Comstock said.
"What was he wearing?" asked Captain Newsome.
"That's an easy question. What was the boy wearing?" demanded Newsome.
"What's the matter? Don't you want to cooperate? Take them away. We'll interrogate them back at the jail," said Captain Newsome.
"Wait!" hissed Comstock.
"He was naked."
"He was what?" growled Newsome.
"He had taken off all his clothes so that we could check him for probable contraband," offered Specter.
"Contraband?" questioned Newsome.
"Yeah, drugs, stuff like that," Comstock answered quickly.
"I see. Where were you planning to look? Were there any other reasons for making an eighteen boy get naked?" asked the captain.
"What are you implying?" inquired a haughty Comstock.
"I'm not implying anything. Perhaps the problem is that you are inferring something," said Newsome with a slight snicker.
"Why else would we have him strip?" demanded Specter.
"That's the question, isn't it? Don't worry; we don't have time to pursue it at the moment, but someone will get back to that later. Now, where does that door lead?" asked Newsome as he pointed toward the door at the back of the room.
"To the corridor," said Comstock.
"And . . .?" added Newsome.
"Well, the corridor leads to some classrooms, eventually to an exit door at the back of the building, and there's a door to the cellar which is not used. There's also a toilet."
"We have a warrant to search this school. Please call your staff to this office. Students should be told to go to their rooms. Is that a problem?" asked the captain.
"No, that's not a problem," said Comstock as he went to his desk and the intercom system.
"All staff are to report to the principal's office. All students are to report to their rooms. There are no exceptions," Comstock announced to the school.
"Other officers from a number of law enforcement jurisdictions will be coming here to interview the staff and students. Also, counselors will deal with the students who will be leaving here almost immediately as we are closing down this establishment. We have members of the FBI and an Episcopalian priest here who will also be available for students and staff.
"Mr. Comstock and Mr. Specter, you are going to be taken into protective custody for the immediate future. We have evidence that students at this school were regularly sexually abused by staff. If that is confirmed, then charges will be brought against members of the staff and maybe you two. The Reverend Colechester died this morning, but you were not advised of his death so that our plan wouldn't be revealed.
"You should know that Mrs. Mason has brought charges against her husband for kidnapping. That is why the FBI is here, too. Were you aware that Bradley Mason had been kidnapped?" asked the captain.
"Not until he told us only moments ago," said Specter.
"What did you plan to do about it? inquired Captain Newsome.
"We were going to check with law enforcement later today to determine if he was telling the truth. If he was, we would have called law enforcement to come and get him. We would not knowingly break the law," said Comstock.
"Any reaction to the charges of sexual abuse?"
"Not at this time," said Comstock.
Staff began arriving at the office. Policemen were moving through the school, searching for Brad. Newsome looked at the two administrators and wondered how deeply they were involved in the sexual abuse. Georgia Highway Patrol officers arrived and took over the questioning. Newsome exchanged some quiet words with Colonel Smithers who was in charge.
"Let the men outside at the back of the school know that they can now come in and help with the search," ordered Smithers.
Father Jim and Gary arrived with Special Agent Flowers. A quick conversation with Newsome and Smither sent them off searching. The school was a hubbub of activity as not only were police searching, but Lydia was there with her counselors.
I was getting nervous. I
wondered why we hadn't heard any more from the others. It seemed
like an eternity since we were told that they didn't know where Brad
was. At first I was thunder struck and I couldn't imagine why they
couldn't find him. He had to be in the damn building. Where else
could he be? I didn't share my frustration with Chris as I didn't
want him to feel sorry for me any more than he already was. Somehow
I had faith that things would turn out okay. Every time I closed my
eyes I got the same image: impenetrable darkness and utter silence.
As hard as I tried to put Brad in that image, I couldn't. I prayed
that the darkness wasn't a sign of impending doom. I was really
getting myself in a tizzy, so I decided to think about Brad and me
making love, laughing together, just being in each other's company.
After a few minutes had passed, the two-way radio beeped. John Li answered it immediately. When he finished talking he went directly to my father where they briefly chatted. John Li pointed to me and my father came over to where the gang was hanging out with Chris and me.
"Jacob, you and Chris are to lead the group into the school. Mr. Li and I will be the last to go into the school. Here are the rules you are expected to follow: you must search in pairs, if you find Brad or any other student, shout the word `HERE' so that the police can join you. Do not leave the school building. There are many rooms and passages, so be very careful as we don't know who might be in the building or how dangerous they might be.
"Remember, this isn't a game. I need to ask you and Chris to take it easy. It would be best to let your buddies do the running and searching. Don't worry, the two of you will be the first to be with Brad when he is found. Are there any questions?" asked my father.
Tim raised his hand and asked,
"Mr. Neilson, are you going to put us together as pairs, or
should we do it ourselves?"
My dad laughed lightly, but it didn't seem to irritate anyone. He walked over to Tim and said,
"It looks to me as if the pairs are already formed. You and Todd, Kev and Ashton, and Conner and Greg. I'd say those are good pairs. Of course, I approve of Jacob and Chris as a pair and . . ."
"Dad," I interrupted, "can we get going. If we don't, everything will be over."
"Sorry, Jacob, you're right. Lead the way, and everyone, take care and hopefully one of our group will find Brad.
Silently I prayed that it would be me.
To be continued...
"The measure of love is to love
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