A story by Altimexis
Welcome to the eleventh installment of Love in a Chair. If you haven't read it already, please read the foreword under Chapter 1. It goes without saying that this story is under copyright. It is a work of pure fiction and any resemblance of characters to real people is completely coincidental. This story involves gay sex between minors and if reading it is illegal where you live, please don't. Also, be forewarned, this chapter is not a happy one. The boys will be injured, one of them seriously, and there will be no sex. The hospital scenes will be graphic, so if you can't handle it, exit now.
Summary of Chapters 1-10: Fifteen-year-old Aaron Johnson and fourteen-year-old Brian Sandler are two boys in love. They met thanks to Aaron's thirteen-year-old brother, Adam, and to an organization called Students for Peace. Aaron's parents are very supportive of the relationship and have made a deal with their son - complete privacy so long as the boys use condoms. Brian's parents, however, are deeply religious and believe that homosexuality is a sin. Having discovered that Brian and Aaron went to a "fag" dance at school, Mr. Sandler cut off all communication between the boys and they were desperate to get back together. They formulated a ruse to spend a few hours together at Aaron's house and went all the way for the first time. But when Brian's plans for a ride home fell through, Aaron was forced to drive, even though he was a month shy of getting his license.
Aaron slammed on the brakes, but the pavement was covered by a good two inches of snow and he couldn't get traction, even with the aide of the Jetta's anti-lock breaks. Time seemed to stop for Aaron as he helplessly watched events unfold. The mammoth SUV slammed into the driver's side front fender, spinning the little Jetta to the right. Aaron's head and torso slammed hard into the window, shattering the glass. Aaron's vision became foggy and he felt something slam into him from the right. The momentum of the SUV dragged the Jetta forward with it, but rather than slowing down, the driver of the SUV actually sped up, forcing the Jetta to careen out of control off to the side of the road and down a slight embankment, into a telephone pole. The tiny car slammed head on into the pole, causing the front airbags to inflate. Aaron felt his body lurch forward as his head and chest made contact with the air bag from the steering wheel. Having been thrown to the left by the initial impact, Brian was still leaning against Aaron, his torso completely unrestrained. His head and shoulders rammed into the driver's front air bag, creating a shear force between the upper and lower parts of his thoracic spine. By the time the car came to rest, both boys were unconscious. Neither one saw the SUV race away from the scene.
The next thing Aaron knew, he felt something hard being placed around his neck. His eyes were closed and he couldn't bring himself to open them. He felt himself being lifted and moved onto something very hard on the ground, and then whatever he was on was lifted up onto something else. He was moving now and he heard the sounds of a radio or walkie-talkie or something. Everything seemed to get bright as he felt himself slide head-first into what felt like a closed space. Finally, he started to open his eyes and there were a couple of people around him, crouching next to him. He would later realize that he was in an ambulance, but for now everything was hazy as he tried to remember what had happened. Suddenly he remembered he'd been with Brian and the thought shot right through him like a jolt of electricity.
He shouted out, "Brian! Where's Brian?!" But all he could manage was a soft mumble. He tried again, this time with more effort, "Please, where's Brian!?"
A young man next to him responded, "Don't worry about that for now. I'm sure your friend will be OK. Right now you just need to focus on yourself. We'll get you to the hospital soon."
Now Aaron was really starting to panic. He didn't care about himself. All he cared about was Brian! He started to squirm violently - or at least as violently as he could. The paramedic next to him put his hand on the boy's shoulder and tried to comfort him.
"You need to stay still. You were both in a pretty serious accident. Your friend is being taken in a separate ambulance. But you won't do your friend any good if you injure yourself further before you even get to the hospital. Just rest for now. I've got an IV going and you're getting something for pain and we'll be at the hospital in no time."
Although the drive was only about twenty minutes, to Aaron, it seemed to take forever. When they finally arrived, Aaron felt himself being slid out of the ambulance and he seemed to float into the hospital emergency department as the gurney's wheels dropped and locked into place. He was wheeled immediately into the trauma bay and the light was absolutely blinding. He was slid across to another gurney and the back board he'd been lying on was removed. A nurse applied a blood pressure cuff to his left arm and he felt it inflate. She checked his pulse and stuck something in his ear. He heard a ripping sound and felt his clothes being removed from his body. He blushed a little bit at the thought of lying naked on the gurney.
Another nurse came up to him and said, "I'm going to stick this catheter into your bladder to drain it. It's going to feel a little funny, but we have to do it to make sure you weren't injured down there, and you're not going to be able to pee on your own for a bit." She then grabbed his dick and applied something cool to the head. He then felt something sharp against his piss slit and it felt like he was peeing marbles. He heard the sound of dripping liquid and she said, "Good, your urine's clear. That's a good sign."
A young man in a white coat approached Aaron and said, "Hi, I'm Dr. Langston, but you can call me Chip if you want. I'm an intern and I'm going to be checking you over. What's your name?"
"Aaron. Aaron Johnson."
"Hi Aaron. It's nice to meet you. I'm going to examine you now. After that, I'll have some questions, OK?"
Chip then proceeded to examine Aaron in detail, listening to his heart and lungs, feeling his stomach, and checking Aaron's ability to move his arms and legs and to distinguish between the sharp and dull ends of a safety pin. This part of the exam took more than a half-hour and when Chip was satisfied that there was nothing serious enough to require emergency surgery, he asked Aaron some simple questions about the year, who the president was and so on, just to make sure there wasn't a brain injury. Aaron answered all questions correctly.
Just then another gurney sped by and was wheeled into place right next to him. Several doctors and nurses surrounded the new arrival and the curtains were pulled tight around him.
Aaron heard someone say, "BP 60 over 40, pulse 120. His belly's firm. Somebody else yelled, "We need a paracentesis kit. I need it now!"
Aaron instinctively knew it was Brian and he started to sob uncontrollably.
"Brian? Is that Brian?"
Chip said, "I don't know if that's your friend, but I'll try to find out for you when I can. As you can see, they're a little busy with him right now.
"We've got 600 cc's of grossly bloody drainage. We need to get this boy to surgery. Get a couple of units of type O neg blood going into him and call the OR!" Aaron heard from someone behind the curtains.
Aaron again started crying. "Is he going to be OK?"
"Aaron, trust me, they're going to do everything possible for your friend if that's him. I'm going to go and ask now. You might be able to help us help him." The intern went to the next bed and returned in a few seconds. "Is Brian Sandler your friend?"
Aaron's crying intensified.
"I know this is difficult, but Brian can't talk right now and we need some information. Do you know if he's allergic to anything?"
"Not that he's ever told me."
"Do you by any chance know his blood type?"
"I don't even know my blood type."
"We need to reach his parents. Do you know how to contact them?"
Aaron's heart sank at the thought of this. They were busted. Brian's parents would know they had been together. They'd put two and two together and that would be the end. Aaron almost cared more about this than about his injuries, but Brian needed his parents now and everything else was secondary. He gave Chip Brian's phone number and told him that Brian's parents were probably at the mall, looking for their son. The intern relayed the info to the emergency social worker.
Chip continued, "How about your parents. How can we reach them?"
"My parents are away for the weekend. My brother's at a friend's house. There's no one at home right now."
"Do you have any other relatives in town?" When Aaron answered no, Chip continued, "Do you know how we can reach your parents?"
"They left a number for me at home, on the kitchen counter."
"Don't worry about it. We'll send the police over to retrieve it. Is there anyone else you'd like us to contact?"
"Larry. Larry Epstein. He's a good friend of Brian and me. He'd want to be here."
Aaron gave Chip the phone number and Chip replied that they'd call him as soon as they could. He continued, "Aaron, we're going to be sending you for a lot of x-rays shortly. You'll be getting so many x-rays that you'll be glowing in the dark for the rest of the year. First we're going to get a CT scan of your head, your spine, your chest and your belly. We need to do this to make sure that nothing's been seriously damaged. After that, we'll get some x-rays of your arms and legs to make sure you didn't break anything. It's going to take more than an hour to get all of these, so please be patient. Before you go for these, I'm going to have my attending doctor come and take a look at you and talk to you. Is that OK?"
Aaron tried to nod his head, but found he couldn't.
"You're in a hard collar to keep you from moving your neck, just in case it's broken. If the x-rays check out, we'll be able to remove it and allow you to get you up."
Just then, Aaron heard Brian being wheeled out of the trauma bay and off to surgery. Although Aaron wasn't sure that he believed in God any more, he said a silent prayer for Brian.
After a short while, an older guy came up to Aaron and introduced himself as Dr. Samuels. He asked Aaron a lot of the same questions that Chip had and repeated much of the same physical exam, and then told him almost exactly the same things. It all seemed a waste of time to Aaron, but he reasoned that since Chip was just an intern, someone had to verify his work.
Then he was off to X-ray and - Chip had been right - it took a long time. The CT scan was kind of weird and he spent a lot of time in the machine. After he thought they were done, they injected something into his veins that made him feel really hot all over and they scanned him again. They then moved him around a lot and put rectangular plates under him as they got the rest of the x-rays. Finally, Aaron was wheeled back to the trauma bay, where he seemed to wait forever just laying there.
Eventually Chip returned and reached down to Aaron's neck. Aaron heard the distinct sound of Velcro coming undone. Chip removed the front half of Aaron's hard collar and Aaron immediately felt more comfortable.
"Do you feel like sitting up?" Aaron nodded his head. "OK, we're going to take this slow. I'm going to start by raising the head of the gurney." Once Aaron was sitting partway up, Chip helped him sit up the rest of the way and swing his legs over the side of the gurney. Aaron was still covered only with a sheet and Chip handed him a hospital gown and helped him put it on. Chip then pulled up a chair and sat facing Aaron.
"You're extremely lucky. You have a few broken ribs, but not a single other broken bone or soft tissue injury. You're pretty bruised up and you'll be hurting for a quite a while from those broken ribs, but I'll give you a prescription for some Vicodin to ease the pain. You've probably got a mild concussion, so you'll feel groggy for a few days, but you should be fine after that. Do you have a pediatrician or a family doctor?" Aaron gave him the name of his doctor and Chip continued, "First thing on Monday, I want you to call her office and set up an appointment with her as soon as possible next week." Chip handed him a card and said, "I also want you to schedule an appointment with Dr. Prentice. She's a child and adolescent psychologist. You've been through a lot and you're very likely to have some serious issues for a while. I know you were driving without a license . . ."
`How'd he know that?' Aaron angrily thought to himself.
". . . and I'm sure you're going to have trouble dealing with what happened. I'm not judging you, Aaron, and I'm sure you had a good reason to be out on the road tonight. But I also know that you're probably going to feel stressed and perhaps a little guilty, particularly with your friend being hurt. Now from what I noticed while doing your rectal exam, I'm guessing that you're boyfriends, right?"
Aaron blushed furiously. "It was our first time."
"Well don't feel guilty about it. I'm happy for the two of you and my prayers are with you and your boyfriend."
"Out of curiosity, can I ask what you were driving?"
"A Volkswagen Jetta."
"Good car - I've been thinking of getting one myself. Great safety record - that car probably saved your life." Aaron smiled briefly for the first time that night. Chip continued, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, however, but there are some cops outside who are waiting to talk to you. Technically, you don't have to talk to them unless your parents or a guardian are present - whether or not you talk to them is strictly up to you. There are also some people here who want to see you, and you're free to go, but you'll have to stay here until a parent, guardian or responsible adult comes to pick you up." He handed Aaron a packet and said, "In here are your discharge instructions. You'll need to stop by the cashier on your way out, but don't worry, no one's going to make you pay this tonight if you don't have the money on you. Oh, and because of your concussion, please make sure someone stays with you tonight. Come back here if you experience any change in your vision or memory."
Just then, a couple of police officers entered the trauma bay. One of them was very young and appeared to be barely out of high school. The other appeared to be in his forties, and much more seasoned. The older officer spoke to Chip and asked, "Is there someplace more private where we could go to talk to the minor?"
"You can probably use one of the grief rooms," Chip replied.
"The grief rooms?" Aaron asked.
"It's where we take families to deliver bad news."
"Oh," Aaron replied, feeling self-conscious as he was led by the police officers, wearing nothing but his boxers, socks, sneakers and a hospital gown. They guided him into an empty room and asked Aaron to be seated. The room was actually rather pleasant - it had a sofa, a love seat and a few chairs, and there were coffee and end tables with real lamps on them. A few potted plants and some artwork on the walls gave the room a feeling more akin to a living room than a room in a hospital emergency department. Aaron sat on the love seat and the officers pulled up two of the chairs and sat directly across from him.
"Aaron, I'm detective Bronson and my associate here is officer Jeffries. We're with the sheriff's office and we'd like to ask you a few questions. Ordinarily, we'd do this with your parents present, but since they aren't available and won't be for a while, would it be OK with you if we talked to you now, while events are still fresh in your mind?"
"I guess it's OK," Aaron said, not sure if he really had an alternative.
"Good," Detective Bronson said. "First of all, tell us in your own words exactly what happened."
"Well, me and Brian were driving to the mall. . . ."
"We know that you don't have a license yet, Aaron. We found your learners' permit in your wallet at the scene of the accident. Why were you out driving on a Friday night without a license?" Aaron turned a deep shade of red and the officer continued, "Trust me, Aaron, there's nothing we haven't heard or seen before. Were you and your friend out to try and pick up some girls or score some drugs?"
"NO! NEVER! I've never used drugs! I've never even drunk alcohol."
"We kinda' figured that, Aaron, since your drug screen came up clean, but we had to ask. So were you and Brian out to pick up girls?"
Aaron blushed and opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. Eventually, he regained his nerve and answered, "Well, I guess you're going to find out anyway, but Brian and I are boyfriends. But please, we don't want this getting out at school!"
"Don't worry, we're not interested in your sex life and nothing you say here will be public unless we determine that you've done something illegal." Aaron breathed a sigh of relief, not realizing that he had, in effect, already broken the law. The detective continued, "So why were you out driving tonight?"
"Brian and I have been boyfriends for a few months. My parents know about us and are OK with it, but Brian's parents didn't have a clue until New Year's, when they discovered that we had gone to a GSA dance. They grounded Brian and tried to keep us apart, but we couldn't stand it. We love each other. So we arranged to go out on a pair of dates, each of us with girls we met through the GSA."
"You mean your dates were lesbians?"
"Yeah, and girlfriends. We met at the mall and swapped dates, and Jackie's parents took Brian and me back to my house. Jackie's parents know about her and Sharon the way my parents know about me and Brian. Anyway, they were supposed to pick Brian up and take him back to the mall in time for his parents to pick up him and Sharon, but Jackie's father had a heart attack." Aarons eyes opened wide and he said, "Shit! He's here. I gotta' find out if he's OK!"
"Don't worry about that for now. You can check on him after we're done here," the detective reassured Aaron. Aaron was beginning to wonder if the younger officer would say anything at all, when Detective Bronson continued, "So I take it that when Jackie's father had a heart attack, that left Brian without a ride to the mall?"
"Exactly. We were running out of time and there was no way we could get a cab or someone else to drive Brian to the mall without raising suspicion. We were petrified of Brian's parents finding out, so we did the only thing I could think of. I'll turn sixteen in a month and would have had my license then anyway. I've driven to the mall with my parents many times, so I saw no problem with driving Brian there tonight. Well, no problem other than not having a license. I was extra careful and drove below the speed limit - I didn't think anything could possibly happen."
"So what did happen?"
"A big, black SUV rammed into us. It was at the intersection of Lewis and Elm. We were driving west-bound on Lewis and the light was green."
"I'm afraid we have a problem with that, Aaron," the detective said, shocking Aaron to the core. "There are no witnesses who saw the actual crash, or at least who are willing to admit to it, and the only thing we have to go on is what a snow plow operator saw when he found you. All he found was your Jetta, which had crashed into a telephone pole. Your side-impact air bags didn't deploy, so you couldn't have been struck from the side. Frankly, it looks like you were going northbound on Elm and simply lost control of your vehicle. So tell us Aaron, what really happened?"
"I'm telling you the truth! I swear!"
"We're not buying it, Aaron. Think about it . . . you were out joyriding in your mother's car, distracted by your boyfriend seated next to you, and the roads were icy and covered with snow. You probably didn't even know how fast you were going. Let me guess . . . you looked up and saw that the light was red, and panicked. You slammed on your breaks, lost control, veered off the side of the road and slammed into a telephone pole. Isn't that what happened?"
"NO! I already told you what happened!" Aaron was in hysterics. "I told you the truth. I don't lie! I would never lie."
"But you lied to Brian's parents. Isn't that right?"
"But we had to lie to Brian's parents. You see, they don't think he's gay. Now they'll probably try to ship him off to some reorientation camp."
"Well maybe that would be for the best."
"I'm just saying that if you weren't trying to get into each other's pants, this accident would have never happened, and your Brian would have been OK."
"NO!" Aaron burst into tears. The guilt was overwhelming. The detective tried placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, but Aaron just shrugged if off. He was inconsolable and didn't even hear the knock on the door.
"What the hell's going on here?!" Bill Epstein asked.
"We're simply trying to find out what happened to cause the accident. Are you the boy's father?"
"No, I'm his attorney."
"What?" Aaron asked.
Mr. Epstein walked over to Aaron and sat down next to him on the love seat. "Aaron, I was home when the hospital called Larry to tell him you were here. He filled me in on everything." Aaron's eyes opened wide in sudden realization. "I'm not going to discuss it with you with the police right here, but I think you need a lawyer. You also need a responsible adult to `claim' you since your parents aren't here. I'd like to fill both of those roles if you'll let me."
"Mr. Epstein, I can't believe this is happening. They seem to think I caused the accident. I may have killed . . ."
"AARON, STOP!" Mr. Epstein exclaimed. "Don't say another word with the police here!" He turned to face the detective and asked, "Did you Mirandize him?"
"No, we're just on a fact-finding mission tonight. He's not even a suspect, yet." The way the detective said `yet' sent a chill down both Aaron's and Mr. Epstein's spines.
"Aaron, don't say another word to these men. Once again, will you let me represent you?
Aaron nodded his head.
"OK, gentlemen, we're done here. If you'll excuse us, I'd like to speak to my client in private." After the officers had departed. Mr. Epstein continued, "First of all, Aaron, if I'm going to represent you, I don't want to hear any of this Mr. Epstein crap. I appreciate your manners, but I expect all of my clients to call me by my first name, and I'm not making an exception for you. So from now on, I expect you to call me Bill. OK?"
"Sure, Mr. Epstein . . . I mean, Bill. God, it sounds so strange to call you that."
"Well, get used to it. Second of all, Adam and Larry are waiting outside and they're going insane wanting to know what's going on, but we need to take care of the legal business first, so I'll try to keep it brief. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you before the sheriff's office did, but no one knew where you were. It took me forever to find you, but thank God I did before you said anything else. Starting from the beginning, please tell me exactly what happened tonight, and what you told the police officers."
Aaron took a deep breath, and then told Mr. Epstein how he and Brian had set up the ruse, why he felt he had to drive Brian to the mall, and what he had told the detective. Mr. Epstein was incredulous at how the detective had tried to corner Aaron and force him to admit to causing the accident in the absence of physical evidence.
"There's no way they should have jumped to that conclusion, Aaron. It's sounds like they haven't even done a proper accident scene investigation, and I'll make sure that one gets done. In fact, I'm going to contact a friend of mine in the city and make sure that we have a real expert do an investigation, too. With so much snow on the ground, they could have easily overlooked something."
"There was only an inch or two on the ground when Brian and I started out."
"There's a good five or six inches, now, and the snow plow driver that found you probably shoved much of the evidence off to the side of the road . . . but if your car was hit by an SUV, don't worry, we'll find the evidence.
"It's a shame that you told the officers as much as you did, but since they didn't read you your rights, we can contest it if they bring anything you said up as evidence. They can always challenge that you voluntarily talked to them and waved your right to have your parents present, but they're on shaky ground. The fact that the detective's a homophobic prick doesn't hurt, either; we can always use that to claim bias during the interview if we can get him to admit to his comments."
"I still can't believe I hurt Brian."
"You didn't hurt Brian! From what you told me, this wasn't in any way, shape or form, your fault. I don't want to hear any more of that. Now lets go find Larry and Adam, and then we'll go back to my place."
"No, Bill. I can't leave Brian. I gotta' stay here until I know he's OK."
"I understand that, Aaron, but there isn't much you can do to help him here. . . . Tell you what, let's go find Larry and Adam, and then we can check on how Brian's doing. We'll play it from there. How's that sound?"
After stopping at the cashier's office and after Mr. Epstein paid Aaron's co-pay, which he'd later collect from Aaron's parents, they found Adam and Larry sitting in the Emergency waiting room. As soon as Larry saw them approach, he practically jumped out of his chair and rushed up to Aaron, stopping just short of embracing him in a hug. Adam stood up behind them."
"Aaron! My God, are you alright?" Larry practically shouted.
"I'm fine, Larry. I have some broken ribs and a concussion, but nothing serious. I'll be OK, though I feel like I was run over by a truck!"
"Pretty close to the truth, I guess. You know, I could hear the sirens from my house. I had no idea it was you and Brian, though." He said as he looked down. "Brian told me about your plans, and it all seemed so perfect. but what were you doing out driving with Brian? I thought that Jackie's parents were gonna to take Brian back to the mall."
"Jackie's father had a heart attack. In fact, he's probably here right now. Oh man, I feel so stupid. How could I have been so stupid?!"
"You know that if he hadn't had a heart attack, it would have been him that was driving and it could have just as easily been him sitting here right now instead of you, so don't go blaming yourself."
"OH MY GOD! How's Brian?!!"
"Still in surgery. His parents are already here. I saw them and they asked why Brian wasn't with Sharon. I didn't tell them anything."
"You didn't need to, Larry. They're not dumb."
"I know. His dad's blaming me, too, and he told me to stay away from his son and that I'm not welcome in their house ever again."
"Ouch! I'm sorry about that, Larry. I can only imagine how he feels about me. He probably thinks I seduced Brian and turned him into a fag. But I can't leave, Larry. I love Brian. I'm not leaving this place until he's out of surgery and doing OK."
"I'm not leaving Brian, either. I love him, too," Larry grinned, "not the same way you do, but he's my best friend ever."
Mr. Epstein interjected, "Aaron, do you know what they did with your clothes?"
Aaron blushed and said, "I guess they ripped up my clothes to take them off. I have no clothes here."
"I'll tell you what." Larry said as he took off his coat. "Put on my coat and we'll sit in the emergency waiting until Brian gets out of surgery and then we can go to your house and get you some clothes. We'll play it by ear after that."
"Sounds like a plan."
Aaron turned to his brother and asked him, "Why so silent?"
"How do you think I feel? I nearly lost my brother, and one of my best friends is fighting for his life? I knew about your plans, Aaron, and I did nothing. I knew better, but I knew how much you loved him and how much you wanted to be with him. I should have told you your plan was wrong."
"It wasn't wrong, Adam. If it hadn't been for Mr. Washington's heart attack, we'd have gotten away with it. I know it was wrong to lie to Brian's parents and it was because of our attempt to keep from getting caught that the accident happened. If anything happens to Brian, I'm going to feel guilty for the rest of my life. In only one more month I'd have had my license. Nothing would have changed. The fact is, that it was that idiot in an SUV who did this to us. If we hadn't been there, he could have just as easily hit somebody else. It might have been a van full of kids, for all we know. I made a stupid mistake, we all did, but what happened, happened. Right now Brian needs us more than ever."
Adam thought about it for a minute. "I'm sorry, bro. I shouldn't be feeling sorry for myself. My God . . . I can't believe you came out of it without a scratch. I should be grateful. . . . we all should be grateful that you're OK."
"Adam, I'd give anything and everything to trade places with Brian right now. I don't know how to explain it, but I care more about his life than about mine. Nothing else matters now. God, I hope he's OK!" The two brothers embraced as the dam burst and Aaron sobbed uncontrollably. They stood there silently, Aaron with tears streaming down his face and Adam holding and comforting his older brother.
Mr. Epstein said, "I'm going to go check to see if there's any news about Brian yet. And while I'm at it, I'll check on Jackie's dad, too. I'll be back in a few."
It was more like fifteen minutes before he returned. "Well, he's out of surgery, but his parents won't tell me anything more. I pleaded with them, but they told me it was none of my business and to leave them alone. I'm afraid they've cut us off from him.
"At least there's good news about Jackie's dad. They've just released him. It turns out it wasn't even a heart attack . . . just bad acid reflux."
"Thank God. . . . Shit, I wonder what happened to Sharon," Aaron added as an afterthought. "Last I heard, she was taking the bus over to the mall where she was to meet up with Brian and his parents."
"Damn, I bet her parents must be giving her the third degree right now." Larry interjected.
"Fuck, I managed to out her, too, didn't I?"
"Not necessarily, but there isn't a lot we can do about it now, anyway." Mr. Epstein turned to his son and asked, "Larry, is there anyone you know that Brian's parents would trust, someone they know who would be willing to keep us informed?"
Larry thought for a minute. "Aaron, didn't you say that one of your teachers is a faculty advisor in the GSA?"
"Yeah, my history teacher, Mr. Sampson. But Brian's parents wouldn't know him."
"No, but I bet he knows some of Brian's teachers. I mean, it's worth a shot. He may have some advice on how to deal with this, too."
"That sounds like an excellent idea. . . ." Mr. Epstein said to no one in particular, thinking aloud. "Aaron, do you have an e-mail address for Mr. Sampson?"
"Yeah, he gave it to all of us at the beginning of the year."
"Tell you what, boys, lets go home. There's nothing we can do here anyway. We can try sending Mr. Sampson an e-mail. I imagine he should be up by now."
Well, that's it for the eleventh installment of Love in a Chair. Sorry this one was so long and not a happy one, but it helps to set the stage for the rest of the story. BTW, I was in a similar accident last year, which gave me the idea for using it in the story. In my case it was a driver under the influence of her cell phone, and not a hit and run. My Jetta was totaled, but I walked away without a scratch and nothing more than a mild concussion. Hope you like the story so far. Please e-mail me your comments. I will try to respond to all e-mail except flames, but I make no promises. I would like to thank Riley James of the Rainbow Community Writing Project for hosting my story. I would also like to thank WriteByMyself and David of Hope for their invaluable suggestions and editing, and Captain Rick for providing incomparable advice on the legal aspects of this story. The next installment should be posted in a week or two.