Date: Sun, 7 Jun 2009 18:20:33 -0400 From: Sean E Subject: The Bully and the Bullied - Part 10 DISCLAIMER: If you shouldn't be reading this - then don't get caught! This is a short story involving boys who are coming-of-age and the things boys get into, including sexual situations, confused feelings, etc. It is my first attempt at fiction, having written only one other series based on my experiences growing up, titled "Life's Road of Discoveries" (also found on Nifty in the [Young Friends] section, early 2008). This series has no basis in truth, whereas all characters and situations are fictional - any resemblance in real life is purely coincidental. Based on an era from the mid-1970', it will spread out over 12-14 chapters (Yeah, I missed my original estimate of 9-10, as I have some more things that need to happen before I conclude it. :o) It is my sincere hope that those of you who take to this and read it through will enjoy it. As always, any feedback is welcome (to EKidKy@hotmail.com). I sincerely hope you like it. :o) The Bully and the Bullied Part Ten -- The Fragility of Life -------------------------------- Austin walked perplexed back toward the van slowly. The boy had indeed been Jeremy Riddle - THE Jeremy Riddle he had hung with for a long, long time. At first he had been ignored, but Jeremy thought that of no consequence - perhaps he hadn't been recognized in the busy exchange or some other similar reason. He covered the distance between them quickly only to find the other boy had suddenly disappeared, causing him to become more confused. After glancing about, he thought maybe he had been mistaken and was about to give up when a set of hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him down between two vehicles. Turning he found his friend, motioning him for silence as he observed in surprise the other boy's serious nature. What perplexed him even more, however, was the fact Jeremy had told him there was no time to talk, that Austin needed to get out of there. After promising that he would call as soon as he was able, Jeremy then hurried the startled teen back toward the main building with a firm but gentle push. Austin staggered back into the lane, bewildered but obedient. Within seconds he glanced back - but his friend had already disappeared. In the distance his family was loaded in their van, waiting for him, so he quickened his pace. As he came near, however, he slowed and paused, recognizing a car that had just turned from the lot onto the highway. Actually, it wasn't the car he recognized as clearly as was the occupant behind the wheel. The nurse and mother of the boy who had found Jeremy only a couple of weeks prior was moving hurriedly, and for an instant he thought he caught a glimpse of someone who may have been trying to hide in the back seat. He was about to turn his attention away, however, when something else occurred that struck him odd, causing him to practically stop in mid-step. An old, weathered pickup truck which had clearly seen better days had pulled quickly from the lot onto the highway, turning in the same direction as the vehicle before it. 'Where have I seen that truck,' Austin pondered, before just as suddenly it dawned on him. In the fading light, he glanced intently once more, trying to discern what appeared to be a man behind the wheel - a man he had met few times, but had nevertheless recognized. Rushing to the family van, he jumped in, addressing his father as he pulled the side door shut. "Dad - look! See that truck?" The elder Mathews, surprised, turned in the direction his son was pointing. The vehicle had accelerated by now and was almost beyond sight. "Dad, go!" There was a sense of urgency in his voice, enough so that the elder man glanced into his rearview mirror and saw an unusual expression in his son's face. He suppressed the retort he almost voiced, and grudgingly began easing the vehicle out of the pickup lane. "What's up son? What's wrong?" Austin suddenly sprinted forward, kneeling between the front seats and both parents and pointing out the window. "Dad... hurry! You remember Jeremy Riddle, right?" He continued as his father hurried turned onto the highway in the indicated direction. The elder man studied as he continued accelerating. "Isn't that the boy who got hurt in the hospital, the one you was telling us about?" "Yeah, uh, turn here onto the bypass Dad!" As the man complied, he continued. "Remember what I told you that happened to him? You know, about his Dad?" The man furrowed his brow. "You said someone worked him over really good in the, uh, nether regions. Tore him up and damaged everything pretty bad if I recall. Didn't they start a massive search for his father or something?" Jeremy nodded. "Yeah, as far as I know the police are still searching, but that's just it Dad. Listen, that guy I went running off to back there? It was Jeremy, but it was funny - when I reached him he shushed me away and said he would call me later. Didn't even let me get a word in or nothing, just pushed me away and disappeared. It was weird, because - I don't know - because he acted like he was trying to hide or something, you know?" He paused and took a deep breath. "Then as I was coming back, I saw that car leave first and I thought I recognized the woman behind the wheel, but I wasn't sure - until I saw that truck pull out too." Austin father look puzzled. "I'm sorry son, but I'm not following you..." "Dad, I used to go to Jeremy's house, remember? You even picked me up a time or two out there. Well, that woman - she's the mother of one of those guys you met that day down in the emergency room. I thought I saw him riding in the back seat with her." When he saw the continued puzzlement, he rolled his eyes. "That truck, Dad - I saw it pull out and follow them! That truck, it looked like -" "The one Jeremy's father used to drive," the elder Mathews filled in. He accelerated even more as he started searching. "Where do you think they would go?" "Well, the turn off for that lady's house isn't far ahead, so if they were heading home..." Austin's voice trailed off as his father suddenly started nodding. In the time it took to provide the given explanation a good minute had elapsed, and their quarry was nowhere in sight. As they worked their way rapidly through traffic, Austin found himself getting excited, yet at the same time hoping he was wrong. Kevin sat silently in the edge of his seat peering around his brother and watching ahead. "You really think it was him? Was he following them?" "I don't know Kev, I don't know - but if it was..." Austin replied, concentrating on the vehicles ahead. "If it was and you're right, your friend may be in a heap of trouble," the elder Mathews interjected. Mrs. Mathews, her voice lost up to this point, suddenly spoke quietly to her husband. "Dear, do you think we should really get involved?" The elder Mathews shook his head. "We have to, honey. I heard some of the guys down at the construction site talking about this last week. The man damn near killed the kid, and in ways you don't want me to have to describe in front of a 12 year old boy back there." Kevin scoffed. "I'm old enough! Besides, I already know!" he retorted, causing his mother to look back and glare at him. He withered under her gaze, slipping back into the seat, defeated. "Well, I do!" he added weakly, but knew the *we'll-talk-about-this-later* look. Even Austin looked down at his little bro and winked, knowing full well that his little brother was as well versed as any of them about such things. Austin made a note to himself to try and intervene later if he could, before returning his gaze anxiously back toward their search. "Is that it"? Mr. Mathews asked as he suddenly began slowing down and easing them back into the normal flow of traffic. Austin looked keenly in the dimming light and then became excited. "Yeah, I think it is Dad!" He studied closer, and then began emphatically nodding. "It's him, I'm certain of it!" "I believe you could be right, son." He reached down and switched on a radio at his feet, pulling the microphone up from the floorboard. Giving the unit a few seconds to warm up, he then keyed the microphone. "This is Kroger-One on broadcast one-seven, is there anyone out there? Please respond." After a pause the man keyed the mic and repeated the request. "Roger Kroger-One, this is Tractor-Man, go ahead." A grin crossed Mr. Mathews face. "Ed, is that you? Listen, we need some help here if you could." "Yeah, it's me, what can I do for you?" "Hey, this is Carl Mathews. We need to get a message to the county sheriff pronto. Are you where you can do that?" "Hey Carl, long time no talk to. Yeah, I can phone it in, what's going down?" "We thing we have spotted a man on the their radar Ed, the one who beat the crap out of his kid here a few weeks back, and right now we're following his truck out route 42. We're about 2 miles outside of town, and if I'm guessing right he'll be turning down Basil Ridge road very shortly. The man's last name is Riddle." "Shit man, you talking about the one who messed with and almost killed his kid?" "The same." Silence fell upon the radio, as they each eagerly awaited the reply. Ahead, they saw the truck ahead began to slow, its brake lights lighting up and a turning indicator engaged, signaling a forthcoming left turn. Just then, Ed returned to them on the radio. "Message delivered to the dispatcher Kroger-One, reply forthcoming. She said they had a car in the area and would be back pronto. Copy?" "Copy Tractor-Man, we appreciate it, not sure what we can do but follow ATM though." "Breaker on station, this is ET-Niner on one seven, can you pick up Kroger-One?" "ET-Niner, this is Kroger-One, we got you." "This is EM-Niner, Emergency Transport and Rescue, southbound on 42 now approximately 3 miles from town, can you provide current location where we might assist?" Mr. Mathews began to making the turn to follow. "Uh, yeah, to your right southbound is county road Basil Ridge, which I am now turning on." "Roger Kroger One, I think we saw you turn, we will follow to assist. Deputy sherrif is ETA at 5 minutes." Both Kevin and Austin turned to watch behind them, and within seconds saw a large ambulance turn to follow in the distance. Austin thought of something just then. "Dad, your lights, turn them off!" "I don't know son, it's pretty dark out here now, I need to be able to see-" "It's not far now, there's a road right up there where you turn and then that's about it, ummm, I dunno, half mile maybe?" Just as he was processing the info, the radio crackled again. "Kroger-One, this is ET-Niner, status update, ETA now 4 minutes on backup. Is subject still in sight?" Mr. Mathew's turned to Austin, looking grave before replying. "Affirmative ET-Niner, we believe -" He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "My son and I believe that the man may be returning either home or near there." - + - + - + - Topping the rise Jeremy saw - for the first time in his life - the two-story white, clapboard-sided cottage nestled in the grove below. Unlike what he had been accustomed to over the years, the lawn below appeared neatly trimmed and uncluttered. The house, although weathered in places, appeared sturdy as they pulled up and stopped behind another vehicle, and there was a quietness about the area that instilled a certain level of security not normally found. As they exited the vehicle, he quietly thought to himself, 'So, this is where they live,' thinking of Michael and the mother who was now helping him to stand upright. Leaning heavily on her for support, they crossed the yard to the porch, walking up to the front door. The ordeal left him exhausted, having spent his excitement and adrenalin in the effort leaving the hospital. Although he had made remarkable progress the last few days, he was still healing internally, and the adventure had left him weary. Having been caught by Austin had contributed to it. He didn't blame his friend, noting that not only had Jeremy been changing in recent months, but so had the boy he had known for most of his life. He didn't want to push the boy away, but he had had no choice. He needed the stealth of the moment in more ways than one. Entering the living room, he noted with amusement how ordered and uncluttered everything was - no beer cans, papers, boxes, empty food containers. The walls were bright and adorned with various pictures and fixtures, and though the carpet had seen better days, it was clear of stains or debris. He thought to himself it seemed cool that everything was organized, but yet not so stiff as to be perfect. Linda appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and gasped when she saw the two entering. "Carolyn, what- what happened?" she exclaimed, rushing to their side to assist. Between the two of them they maneuvered the teen onto the sofa, stretching him out across one end. Michael and Thomas both heard the woman exclaim and came rushing down the stairway, turning the corner at the bottom only to stop in their tracks, stunned. "Mom? What's going on?" Michael asked his mother. Carolyn shook her head. "Not now, Michael. Go get a throw and pillow off my bed. Thomas, go around and shut these windows honey, it's getting pretty cool in here right now." Looking up at Linda, she betrayed the concern in her voice to the other woman. "He needs something to drink, like some juice. You think you could go out back to the freezer and see if there isn't some frozen concentrate out there and maybe mix it up?" Linda nodded and was gone in a flash. Carolyn returned her attention to the older teen now stretched out before her. His eyes had closed during the exchange, and as she felt both his forehead and his pulse, noting that the teen was breaking out in a sweat, even in the cool dampness of the room. She reached out and removed the shoe-jackets she had found for him earlier, tossing the dirtied cloth into an open trash can sitting inside the kitchen doorway. She massaged his feet and ankles temporarily, causing him to open his eyes and smile up at her. She returned it, asking "How about it kiddo? How do you feel?" "I'm okay mam, just... really tired right now." "That's understandable. I would imagine your body has yet to adjust back to being normal yet, so that whole adventure probably keyed you up. When we get some juice in you, and then some supper afterwards, that'll bring some of your energy back up." She placed a hand gently on his lower stomach. "What about in here, though? Do you have any discomfort or pain?" Jeremy grunted and scrunched his nose up. "It - doesn't exactly hurt, just - I dunno, just aches a lot, like it's really sore inside." He looked away embarrassed. "I still can't really sit up and put a lot of weight there." Carolyn smiled reassuringly. "You will, I promise." Just then Michael returned with a pillow and a light blanket which he began spreading over the older teen. While his mother helped get the pillow in place, Jeremy noticed Thomas was standing nearby watching them, having finished the task he was asked to do. Jeremy looked up into the blank eyes that stared back, and it occurred to him that if their roles were reversed, he wouldn't be too sure about how he would feel at the moment. Thomas had already made great strides in resolving their differences, but for all practical purposes Jeremy was still himself - Jeremy Riddle, the kid who beat the crap out of the younger boy only months before. He tried to smile, tried to make some attempt of his own in good faith. "Hey," he said, rather weakly. Thomas tried to do as much for his part in return. "Hey," was the soft reply, but still neutral and cool. Michael had filled him in on the events at the hospital that day, and he had shook his head in disbelief at the reality the boy before him had lived in his own personal hell. He was equally as disgusted with the idea that the older teen felt it was his punishment, his duty for service to his father. No one deserved to go through what the older teen had, no matter whom or what they were. Now with the older teen in front of him face-to-face, however, Thomas found his own attitude suddenly in question. Could he have been wrong about this bully? Maybe he did deserve something better, something that would give him a chance at being a better person. The last few months at school had certainly saw the menace change - into what, no one knew or understood. Or did they? Thomas realized that just maybe some did. He glanced nervously at his best friend who had now joined him at his side, searching for something - anything - to help him decide that, right or wrong, he needed to forgive. Michael seemed to really have an uncanny ability to see inside someone and find that thing they needed most. Thomas thought maybe that empathy was what he should trust in, too, because before him now he could see it in Jeremy's eyes. This was a completely different person than the one he had met that fateful afternoon on the school bus. Michael smiled in his most smug 'I-told-you-so' look, as if sensing the uncertain conflict that was going on. Jeremy, too, smiled to himself noting the gesture and exchange between them, before sighing and turning his attention to the reappearance of the other woman in the doorway. Linda stood just inside the living room holding a plastic pitcher in one hand and a large wooden spoon with the other, constantly turning and working the contents inside. Looking up, Carolyn took a deep breath and then began explaining the events of the evening as they unfolded. Although summarizing parts in places, she gave a fairly detailed account of what had happened. Carolyn also explained why she had made such a drastic decision of removing him from the premises - noting that sometimes things were not always as they were perceived. She had been a participant in the past when patients were transferred to other facilities, and knew full well that most were done during early morning hours. She had always thought it was to take advantage of the reduced activity around the hospital, making it less stressful. However, as Jeremy's story unfolded for her in the amount of time it had taken, she had begun feeling uneasy, wondering if maybe there might have been other motives as well. She recalled hearing about unhappy parents and relatives coming in to find their loved ones suddenly gone without being consulted. This particular night she was afraid it might actually happen again before she could get the appropriate people involved to stop it. Linda listened quietly in astonishment. "Maybe I should call Fred and give him a heads up," she said, referring to one of the county deputies whom she worked with. Carolyn nodded in agreement as she turned to Thomas. "Go get me a cup or glass or something honey, I think this is about ready," indicating the juice she was mixing. Thomas took off hurriedly toward the kitchen, eager to be of help. Entering, he crossed to a set of cabinets along the back wall, opening one where the glasses were usually stored. Reaching inside, he noticed a sour odor that suddenly became very strong behind him, which made him frown and wrinkle his nose. As he closed the cabinet, he observed the back door to the porch was ajar, but after remembering his mother had went out to retrieve the juice he thought nothing more of it. That is, until he turned around. He was face to face with a disheveled, unshaven man who stared down at him, holding in his hand a gun with its muzzle pointed straight at his face. Thomas gulped as he recognized the man. He had only seen him once in his life that he remembered, and it was only months before on a fateful afternoon he had just been thinking about moments before. Standing before him, in the room, was Jeremy Riddle's father. - + - + - + - Only three days before, the old man had been in a pub in Central City, in a place so isolated from the rest of the world you could just simply get away from things. Inside, nobody cared where you came from or what you did for a living. As long as you could pay your bill and keep the noise to a reasonable level, anyone who wanted to get lost simply could. Law enforcement usually avoided the place, since it was small to begin with and ran by the local VFW club. Dull colors, country blues music, and thick, heavy smoke all combined to choke one with an abrasive atmosphere. The owner, a retired veteran, could care less in general. As long as he could pay the rent and whittle life away at his own whim, he was satisfied for every practical purpose. It was on that night in particular, however, that a keen incident aroused the old man. He was playing poker with some newly made acquaintances, and having a fairly good night - earning several dollars in a relatively short while. It always pleased him when he was on a roll, because the more he collected, the more hard liquor he could get. At one point one of the men began querying his partner. "You heard anymore on that man the police had been out dragging for all over the countryside, Will?" "Nah, I haven't," Will replied while staring at his hand and searching for some divine guidance about what move to make next. The third fellow scratched his head. "What's that all about?" It was at this point the old man began paying attention as the first one spoke up. "You know - the one they got the dragnet out on, that man that knocked up his kid real bad and left for dead a few weeks ago." "Lordy be, no! I hadn't heard anything about that!" cried the third man. "Yep, the kid was found in some old abandoned shack I heard, near dead for wear, had his ass blundered to crap and his whole nether regions beaten to a pulp." While the other three talked, the old man's ears keened up in interest. Feigning surprise as did the other, he asked, "Where about was this?" Will looked at the first and studied a moment. "What do you think Ed, bout two or three weeks ago?" Ed nodded. "That sounds about right. There was a statewide manhunt for the kid's father, but they never could put together a picture or anything on the man, and the kid was too far gone to provide much of a description. So far as I know he's still out there eluding the authorities and everyone." Will grunted. "Dave, down at the stockyards the other day said he heard that kid was still laid up in the hospital and had been near death more than once, but had somehow survived it all as far as they knew." "You don't say?" the old man exclaimed, feigning surprise. "Yep, the kid must have been pretty tough." Will furrowed his brow before releasing a big sigh, shaking his head. "I can't imagine some dipshit doing that to their kid, you know fellows? Every time I think about it, I get this big pit in the bottom of my stomach. It's one thing to abuse a kid, but to do it and practically kill him?" Ed and the third man nodded in agreement, as well as the old man as he played along. There was no question in his mind about whom they were talking about now. Although the events came back to him hazily, like most things they seemed clouded, as if watching through a fog. He grew restless from that point on, and it turned the tide of his luck. Thinking and contemplating what he had just learned, he eventually rose from the table bidding the others good night and staggered toward the bar where he paid his bill, but not before he purchased a rather large bottle of whiskey with what few funds he had left. Leaving the pub, he was lost in thought when he reached the outside and found his truck at the back of the building. He sat for a long time behind the wheel, going nowhere as he mused over what he had learned. If there had indeed been a manhunt as his associates had said, then he considered himself damn near lucky to have avoided them this long. Not that it surprised him that much - he could barely remember things in the fog of his memories as it was. Most days he spent walking or driving through the countryside, going from county to county and wandering about. He hated going home and everything that the place stood for in his life. For him it was an insufferable memory to the things that once was, and the things he was forced to live with. That included the boy, a reminder he was never rid of in any sense of the word that led to his mother. How she would see him now he had no doubts, imagining the shouts and lectures and constant nagging regarding his way of life to be more potent and painful that ever. He looked back at the kid and every time his eyes lay on him he thought of all the anguish, the suffering reality that the woman was gone. She had been the only one he ever loved in life above himself. "Shit," he said to himself. He tried to ignore the boy, tried to imagine he would just go away, but it had never happened. He had become nothing but a huge nuisance in his life - HIS LIFE! It enraged him to think that now everyone was concerned about the boy's welfare, surely, but what about HIS? Didn't the old man deserve some semblance of peace as well, to be left alone? The more he sat and mulled, the more enraged he became. "Now he's done it, got the law after me," he continued. He couldn't recall the details of it, it was still a haze, but he knew in a sense what he had done. He had lost control, blaming the kid for every little detail that was wrong in his life and wanting - no, needing - to make him pay for it. He had tried for years everything he knew of to demoralize and berate the kid, and in his eyes he figured taking him to the lowest moral behavior he could think of would be enough. Incest between a father and a son was about as bitter as it comes, yet he had found a perverse, bittersweet pleasure at it. He had dominated over the kid, and the kid knew it. Perhaps now, though, it was time to rethink it all. He knew it would only be a matter of time now before he was caught. He also figured that once everything became public - and he was sure that it would - he would have nothing to live for, nowhere to go. His life was over. All the years of booze and binge drinking left him with nothing but a damnable thirst he could never satisfy. There was no pleasure, no rest, no joy in life at all to him anymore, and now thanks to the damned kid, there was nothing he had left to look forward to. The kid had been a pain in his ass since his first day of birth, and now some 15 years later he was still a pain! It was at that moment he came to a decision - one he knew with a hard fact would cost dearly. In his mind, however, he figured if it was going to cost him to be miserable for the rest of his life, then why should the kid have it any easier. "Why not?" he asked himself. He wondered why not make him pay for it all? He had tried to shaft the brat and demoralize him as low as possible, with failure. A failure he would soon rectify. He started the truck and drove off toward the lake, knowing he could find a decent place to pull off, to sleep, to clear his head... and to make his plans. - + - + - + - It took almost two days for the old man to make his way back, partially because he now traveled by night in order to make a more discreet entrance. It was now in the early morning hours; he had parked a couple of miles away and worked his way across the field to his old homestead. When he arrived he found, to his disappointment, the padlocks that had been placed upon the doors, and noted with wry amusement the absence of law enforcement "watching" the house. He gained entry at his bedroom window, shattering the glass and reaching through to its lock. Once inside, he wasted no time, looking into various drawers and boxes scattered about the room until he found a key, which he took to a nearby chest. Retrieving a lockbox from inside, he opened the lid and retrieved a handgun and ammunition. It was the only possession he had left in life that was truly his, left by his father before him. He grinned wickedly at the thought it would never be passed to his own son. Seeing a jacket nearby, he grabbed it and then exited the house in the same manner as he had entered. The last he figured, the boy had to be in the only hospital around the area, so finding his stakeout took little effort. The older series of buildings were disjointed and attached in an odd configuration, leaving many of the parking lots small and spread across the complex. Along with the various buildings and support structures, he found an easy spot near the entrance to park almost out of sight. His only problem now was he had to wait. He looked at the half-empty bottle of whiskey, and then shook his head. He needed to be sober and keep his wits about him. Somewhere, someone would come along and give him what he needed - an opportunity. He had no idea what the security - if any - would be like inside. Nor did he know how long he would be able to loiter here in the lot, decently obscured from view. He would wait if needed, however, until dusk before he would make his move. It was a long day, one with reasonable weather for this time of year. The nights were still somewhat cool, but the daytime temperatures had been warming steadily over the last few weeks. In the truck it was hot, however, even with the windows rolled down and an occasional breeze making its way across the lot. Still the old man watched, and waited. He grew hungry but he ignored the signs his body was giving him. He was on a mission, and he wasn't going to squander it. He did open the bottle of whiskey a few times, and purposefully took only small sips, lest he feared a relapse into something that would make him miss his window. It was toward dusk when he had just awakened from a nap and decided the time was getting near. He stowed the bottle away from sight and sat up straight, rubbing his eyes and gathering his senses about him. He was about to step from the vehicle when he froze, listening to a voice call from beyond the spot, over near the entrance. "Hey Jeremy, over here!" Instantly the man was wide awake because he noted the voice was that of a young man that seemed familiar to him in some odd sense. Sitting quietly, he gazed out at the building only yards away until his eyes focused on a young teenager crossing into a parking lot not far from him. Looking further ahead, his eyes grew wider in astonishment. Not 60 feet away stood the very one he sought to find, dressed rather awkwardly in a hospital intern's garments! He noticed at once the effort the boy made to hide, to melt into the surroundings; even the young friend who called upon him got pushed away rather hastily. "What's this boy, you running away?" the old man sneered to himself. He was about to get out of the truck when he noted the boy disappeared again, but was rapidly replaced by a young woman hurrying through the lot toward a car at the far end. Somehow she seemed familiar to him, but he was at a loss at the moment as to how. As he watched her reach the vehicle, he was delighted to see the young boy enter it as well - with her help! "Oh, I see, so you got someone helping you..." He watched as they made their way through the lot and then turn out onto the highway. It could not have been more perfect! Not only was the boy getting away from the high traffic and public location of the hospital, he was doing it as discretely as possible! The old man quickly started the old truck and began to follow, oblivious to all else around him. To his surprise, they headed back toward the homestead, turning down the road as expected until they reached a long dirt road that rose over a rise. Turning, he watched them disappear before he quietly eased by to the turn in the road and turned off into the field. There he parked and killed the engine, gazing about the countryside. He waited a couple of minutes, then exited the old truck and began walking back and up across the field, till he topped the rise and was able to gaze down on the house below. With anticipation building, he headed toward it; his kid was inside, he knew it! It was time to teach him, teach all of them, the price of messing with the old man. He entered the unlocked back door as silently as he could, crossing the porch until he was in the kitchen. Getting his bearings he saw a sudden movement in the dim lighting and watched another young kid run in. Oblivious to anything but the cabinet he headed for, the man watched the boy retrieve a glass and then suddenly pause, sniffing the air. It was then the man realized he could no longer hide, and so he stepped forward with the gun in hand. - + - + - + - Thomas stood very, very still - partially from surprise, but also from fear at seeing the man and the gun. When the man motioned, he slowly stepped backwards towards the living room, dropping the glass he had been holding. The dull thud awakened his senses as he entered through the doorway, and he watched the old man as the other's eyes adjusted to the change of light. He heard his mother grunt and start to ask something along the lines about the glass he was suppose to be carrying, but he didn't listen. Instead he interrupted her, "Mom, uh Mom..." Linda looked up startled when she saw first the gun and then Jeremy's father appear in the doorway. As she gasped, the others in the room became silent, all following her eyes and realizing simultaneously they were no longer alone. When Jeremy noted the silence, he arose slightly on the couch and looked back over his shoulder into a set of eyes which instantly struck him with fear, then anger. "You," was all he could say as the elder Riddle stared down at him. "Yes sir, me," the old man replied, before wiping his brow with the back of his hand, the other pointing the gun haphazardly toward the group. The man stared at the group, suddenly nervous and unsure of himself. For an instance, his min flashed back to an image of himself and his wife, and the young man before him now as a baby - at a time where they were all laughing with a certain joy and peace that had escaped him since. He was brought back to reality, however, by a movement when Thomas moved to stand beside his mother. The nurse also had moved to put herself between the boy on the sofa and the man standing in the doorway, hissing along the way, "Get out of here! You've done this boy enough damage already you filthy asshole!" It was then the old man roared, and a certain wildness returned to his expression, "Shut up woman and stand aside." When she refused, he swung the gun down on her hard, clipping he brow with he muzzle, to which she cried out and stumbled to the floor. Michael also cried out "Mom!" as he rushed to her aide. Linda instinctively grabbed her son, pulling him close, her eyes intent as she watched the figure before them. In the interim, Jeremy sat up weakly on the couch, his eyes intent on the other man and caught a glimpse of the madness in his father's eyes. It was a empty expression, but one that betrayed a rage that he had recognized only a few times in his life. "Leave them alone," he said, rather strongly without betraying his weakened state and glaring at the other man. The old man returned the glare before replying in an icy coldness. "Don't worry - it's you I have come for, not your girlfriends..." When he made no further motion, Jeremy began to realize what the man meant. His anger turned to fear as the old man slowly brought the gun up and took aim. - + - + - + - Michael saw the transition between the two and sensed what was about to happen. In an instant he saw the rage and hostility in the old man culminate to a point of madness, and he knew the man intended to pull the trigger. He was in awe at the hatred seething from Jeremy's father, mostly because he couldn't understand where it came from or why it was there. He only knew that right now, looking at Jeremy, he saw fear - true fear, as if something never really experienced before, and to Michael it seemed like he was sitting there alone. Michael couldn't stand that thought, and it became clear to him finally why he liked Jeremy. Although the bully had made life hell for so many people, for so long, he was no different than he or Thomas - he was alone. At that thought, he crossed to the couch and stood between them, breaking the eye contact between them, staring at the old man and glaring back at him. "Leave him alone," he replied, his voice deathly quiet. Both Carolyn and Linda gasped, but before either could respond a pair of arms grabbed Michael from behind and shoved him out of the way toward his mother, who had been trying to rise from the floor. She barely caught her son in time to keep him from falling dangerously, and the force of the action caused them both to tumble backwards. Jeremy now stood face to face with his father with only a few feet separating them. "This is between you and me, but make sure you go fuck yourself when you're done," he announced quietly in a sure and final tone. Jeremy stood quietly and waited, knowing he had no strength left to fight the man without endangering all of their lives. He also felt like it was finally going to be over, and that this was going to be it. No longer would he have to live in fear of the man; no longer would he have to be the brunt of abuse and neglect, and worst of all - the shame. It was over, or at least it was about to be. In a sense he accepted his fate - his punishment - and it left him with a strange feeling, now having to face down his own father, the man with the gun which to him had only one purpose. A strange feeling - one of relief. "Go on," he whispered, "get it over with." The old man's eyes became unfocussed as he hesitated, gazing down at the boy. He had not expected the young one to face him so bravely, or so calmly. Glancing around at the other figures in the room, he realized something was not right - or rather, not right to *him*. These people actually seemed to care, and that puzzled him as he returned his attention to his son. His son - it was his responsibility to care for him, not theirs; and he had cared for him for over 15 long, insufferable years. Suddenly he couldn't think, as he asked himself what was so insufferable. Why did he hate this kid? Was it hatred? It had to be -- right? He staggered back a step, suddenly unsure once again. The gun in his hand wavered slightly, but still pointed at the boy's chest, ready to fulfill it's owners desire should that decision be made. Before the old man could pursue that thought any further, however, there came a sound from the window, a tiny pop and crackle that gave way as a hole opened up through the thick glass of the old house. No one noted the more distinct sound from outside as yet another, then another of the sounds followed, each distinct in their own right. In the middle of the room however, there was a change in the old man as he suddenly felt something touch his chest, as if an invisible force had found and pushed him backwards with a sudden quickness. When it was followed twice more, he looked down to see three holes now revealing the dirtied t-shirt he wore underneath. Dirty, but yet now rapidly changing color to a bright crimson red as wells began to swell and expand outward. In surprise the man raised his eyebrows, realizing now that the invisible force was suddenly very real, as if it had reached inside of him and began apply immense pressure to his internal organs. He looked up into the eyes of his son, noting with painstaking accuracy that the younger boy was just as surprised as he was. The old man's strength suddenly began to seep away as he slowly fell to his knees, the gun now dropped to the floor and his other free hand clutching at his chest. Everyone in the room was still as the scene unfolded before them, shocked beyond belief as the man slowly began to lie backwards against a nearby bookcase. The front door suddenly burst open, followed by one of the deputy sheriff's holding an outstretched gun toward the man. Seeing the gun fallen to the floor, he relaxed and moved over, kicking it out of the way, yet keeping his attention focused on the floor and the figure before them all. "Is everyone okay?" he called rather loudly and forcibly. Nobody answered him, surprise still registered at it all. The old man looked up at the young deputy, a blank expression at first then a look of understanding and peace crossing over him. His chest now giving up considerable blood, he could feel it internally as things started to shut down from the damaged tissue. He returned his gaze to Jeremy, and was surprised at the calmness he felt himself. To his son, he uttered the last words he would ever speak in this world, "Finally, it's finally over." There was an audible gasp from the man then as he suddenly became motionless, his hands falling to his sides. Jeremy startled, the phrase catching him off guard. Perplexed, he watched his father die in front of him as two paramedics suddenly appeared and moved to the man's side. His energy suddenly drained, Jeremy began sinking to his knees and would have collapsed completely if it were not for the arms of the other two teens in the room suddenly grabbing him. They lifted him up and back to the sofa, where one of the paramedics turned his attention to the boy and searching for any signs of obvious injury. Carolyn took a deep breath fighting her own emotions at the moment. She finally got to her feet and walked over to the boys and began hugging each of the younger teens rather tightly as her eyes became moist. Suddenly Linda joined the three of them, and the lot of them looked down at the older boy on the couch as the paramedic pulled back and looked up, giving Carolyn a slight nod from his head, indicating everything was alright for the moment. With that the woman knelt down by his side and embraced Jeremy as close as she could, holding him as she felt him suddenly collapse in her arms. Jeremy did not cry or make any sounds at first, and they remained holding each other for several minutes before Carolyn quietly released him. Still in shock, he looked up into the faces of first Thomas and then Michael. Both boys were openly weeping, and for the first time the realization struck home - it really was over now, the end had finally come. He had expected to die, but somehow he had been saved. He turned and glanced at the old man lying on the floor across the room. His own tears began to well up, not in pity but in anger. With a tremendous effort, he rose from the sofa over the protests of the others around him, and walked across to stare down at his old man. Everyone watched him as he stood over his father for a moment before bringing his right foot back and launching a kick into the man. The teen could say nothing, but he could feel emotions raging within him from hatred to sadness to anger and pity. Both Michael and Thomas went to his side, but did nothing as Jeremy struggled to come to terms with the reality of the moment. His eyes became clouded from the tears that let loose like a storm as he stood in surprising anguish before turning away. He looked at his friends before grabbing them both into a hug, which they willingly returned. There were now two paramedics and two deputies in the room, restoring order as best as they could. In the doorway stood another man and his son, whom Jeremy recognized immediately when they came into view. Breaking away from Michael in Thomas, he crossed the short space and embraced his longtime friend, surprising the other profoundly but returning the hug. One deputy looked to the other and whispered, spreading his arms wide, "I have a funny feeling this is going to take a while." Linda, who was nearby, grunted and replied, more to herself than anyone else, "You got that right." - + - + - + - *** "In other news tonight, an armed man sought on charges of child molestation and abuse came face to face with Butler County authorities last night when he gained unlawful entry to a local area residence, and attempted to hold members of that residence hostage. Police report that the stand-off ended in tragedy, when Russell J. Riddle was shot by county deputies who arrived on the scene within moments of the altercation, when it was reported that Riddle came within seconds of firing at the residences individuals." *** *** "Listeners may recall that Riddle was a fugitive on the run from the law, when it was first reported last month he was wanted in connection to a variety of charges, including unusual neglect and abuse of children under the age of 18 who was hospitalized with severe injuries following an incident. A statewide manhunt had ensued but failed to locate the man in the days that followed, until late yesterday when he was spotted in Butler County and followed by local citizens. The Butler County sheriff's department and EMS personnel were notified and joined the pursuit, ending in confrontation at the residence. Butler County officials report that no other injuries were sustained and that the victims in the incident are doing well." *** As the new anchor launched into another story, Michael turned the TV off before reeling himself back into the bed next to his best friend. It was late, following an intense day of activity for all of them. Both he and Thomas had been taken to the courthouse to give statements and interviews regarding what had happened. It had taken quite a while ironing out various details, and by the time they were done both mothers agreed there was no advantage to returning to school. It was the last day before spring break, so the upcoming vacation was welcomed by everyone. The rest of the day had been spent cleaning the living room, replacing the broken glass, and generally recovering from the previous days events. Although young as they were, both boys had become exhausted by evening and had retired to bed earlier than usual. As Michael settled in Thomas rolled over to observe his friend. "Mike?" "Hmm?" "What do you think is going to happen? To Jeremy, I mean?" Michael thought about that for a moment. "I don't know. I think we need to go see him tomorrow though, you know? Right now, he's got to be feeling pretty alone and stuff." "Yeah, I know." Thomas hesitated. "Mike?" Michael rolled toward his friend. "Yeah?" "I'm sorry I doubted you, I mean, about him. I know it's kind of late, but I wanted to tell you anyway. I mean, Jermz - he seems okay I guess, if you just learn to push the other stuff aside. I actually feel sorry for him, you know? Having to live with that - that..." "Asshole?" When his friend nodded, Michael continued. "I wasn't so much right bro, he just - I don't know, it just hit me weird, that's all. I'm like you, I never thought I could care for someone like Jermz, but - I guess I just saw a lot of us, a lot of you and me, in him. Does that make any sense?" Thomas scrunched his nose up. "He's always had people to hang out with though, always-" "But he didn't, not really," Michael interrupted. "Jermz really had no one to be a real friend because everyone - us included - were just afraid of him. The ones who hung out with him I think did it just so they didn't get on his shitty side. If he had, then maybe it would have been diff for him. As far as I know though, the only real friend he has ever had was Austin, but he never trusted him - not like we trust one another anyways." Thomas thought about that and then slowly agreed. "I think I see what you're saying, yeah. I know I avoided him because he was an asshole, but, yeah..." Michael nodded. "He was just as much alone as you and me were, except he had it worse." Thinking back, a question hit him. "Thomas, do you think maybe, I dunno, maybe I went too far?" "How do you mean?" "Well, I dunno, like - maybe I said too much or got closer than I should or something. I mean, don't get me wrong bro, you're my best friend, and you always will be. I love you, you know that by now, I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt that or us, but..." When he didn't continue, Thomas replied. "You think you're getting too close to him, is that it?" He giggled. "I dunno Mike, I mean, damn, you've done seen his dick and practically went to bed with hi - UMPH!" The latter was a response to the pillow that suddenly hit him in the face, making him laugh out loud. "Hey!" Within seconds Michael was on top of his friend, pinning him down into the bed. The wide smile on his face however, betrayed the amusement of the moment. Instead of wrestling with his friend, Thomas just embraced him, returning the smile. "Okay, okay - I surrender!" he declared as he snuggled underneath. Grinning, Michael just lay there staring into Thomas's eyes until his friend scrunched up his nose again, returning to the seriousness of the moment. "No, you did fine Mike. Jermz needed someone, just like I did." "Like we both did, bro" was Michael's whispered reply. "Yeah, but you found it inside of you to open up to him when others wouldn't." "You did, too," Michael whispered. Thomas shrugged his shoulders. "I don't love him Mike, not like I love you anyway, but I do care about him, I really do." Michael nodded before letting his arms embrace his friend. "I know you do," he continued whispering. They enjoyed their close quarters for a while, just lying wrapped up with each other, before he added. "Jermz will never take your place Thomas, I swear it." "He better not!" Thomas suddenly giggled before hugging tighter. "I know he won't Mike. You and me, we have something special." Michael giggled as well. "Damn right we do!" - + - + - + - The following morning found the old, musty room of the county courthouse basement filled with an assortment of adults, many whom were annoyed at having to assemble in the dank place and giving up their Saturday morning to be there. The judge had insisted, however, as he sat at the head of the long, polished oak table. There were various people scattered about the room, seated at both the table and around the edges filling benches and chairs along the walls. "Okay, let's try to be civil about this here," the man declared, attempt to maintain some semblance of order. To his left sat both Carolyn and Linda, along with Carolyn's boss Dr. Riddle and another hospital administrator. Both women were clearly agitated as the individual sitting across from them was none other than the psychiatrist who had attempted to treat and then deport young Jeremy Riddle only days before. "What I don't understand is how this is even in question. I treated the young man, or rather attempted to do so this week, and-" "Is that what you call it?" Carolyn hissed. Turning to the judge, she addressed him directly. "If my kid were to have endured the belittling and constant, demoralizing this man was dishing out-" "Calm down, please, madam." The old judge sat back in his chair. When the therapist was about o retort, he held both hands up in silence. "Please, no more. This is not the time or place for you two to battle this out. I assume the hospital administration will have their hands full. I will say this, however." He turned to the psychiatrist. "You know as well as I do this is not the first time you've been before me for similar circumstances, and given the nature of what has happened here, it would seem you might want to reconsider your testimony." The man angered as he replied. "May I remind his honor that if the patient had not been removed from the facility to begin with, none of these events and their outcome would have probably occurred to begin with!" The old judge frowned. "I'm not so sure about that. The man was in the hospital parking lot, with a gun, obviously bidding his time until he could gain access to the building. I believe if things had not transpired, he would probably gained entry and at that point, there is no telling how bad the situation could have become. In either case, there is no second guessing going to take place here on what might, or could, have been a better choice of action. The fact is, the young lady felt there was an perceivable threat to the care of the young man given his situation, and she acted in the best way she knew how to fight the system. A system," the judge paused, staring directly at the hospital administrator, "which seems to introduce a fair amount of neglect into its nominal practices with regards to treating patients without parental consent or oversight." The man withered under the stare of the judge, but cleared his throat. "But surely your honor, as you can see, this young man had no parental supervision-" "That does not matter. It is your institutions responsibility to oversee his well being, and in this case it would appear you did not exercise that responsibility to its fullest extent. One of your own employees had to take action, perhaps in contradiction to hospital rules but certainly out of welfare for the patient, to safeguard his interests." The judge held up his hands again. "These are points, as I will again remind you, which are not relevant here today. Instead, we need to turn and address the immediate needs of our young man and what should be done." He sighed before continuing. "Doctor, I understand you believe young Jeremy will be sufficiently recovered and eligible for release from the hospital perhaps in the next two to three days, is this correct?" When the man nodded, he continued. "Does that mean he will be fully recovered?" "Heavens no!" the doctor replied. "He will still require some physical therapy, in my professional opinion, for another two weeks at least. Physically, he has been mending well, although he still has a considerable amount of soreness and fatigue he is dealing with, all of which will dissolve as he continues to regain his strength and integrate back into a normal daily routine." The judge nodded. "Then the question is, where do we keep him while this is recovery continues." He turned and addressed another lady sitting at the far end of the table. "I take it social services have an issue to be addressed by this?" The woman cleared her throat. "Your honor, we believe it would be of more benefit for Jeremy Riddle to remain in custody of the hospital administration for this period. We have no vacancies or fostering ability to handle directly monitoring his recovery for any extended amount of time." The judge scoffed. "Really? If you can't handle him now, then tell me, how do you expect to handle him when he is released, but still requires psychiatric care and counseling for the months to come, hmm?" The old man sighed when nothing but silence met him from everyone else around the table. "Ladies and gentlemen, what I have been listening to for the last hour almost is a bunch of people - except for the presence of this nurse and her friend - make excuses about not wanting any involvement or responsibility toward caring for this young man's well being. Yet we are faced with something here that IS our responsibility. There are vast consequences surrounding the future for this boy now, who has no next of kin, no relatives to speak of, and who is now utterly abandoned in facing the fact he is alone." "I disagree, your honor," Linda spoke up, suddenly. When the man smiled at her, she was encouraged to continue. "All of what you said is true, other than for the fact about being alone. In recent weeks, we - I mean, Carolyn and I and our sons - have gotten to know him much better. He has pretty much become a part of our family insofar as someone whom we've befriended." She blushed. "I'm sorry, but to say he is alone, well..." The judge spoke kindly. "From what I have heard and understood in this matter, you two ladies have been exceptionally kind to this young man, so I do stand corrected. Still - there is the matter of deciding what we can do from here on out." "Your honor, can I say something?" Everyone in the room turned to see Thomas, who had been sitting quietly with Michael in the back of the room, stand. When the judge motioned for him to come forward, Thomas hesitated before moving until he stood between his mother and Carolyn. He cleared his throat nervously, absorbing the silence around them as he collected his thoughts. "Well, sir, I was just thinking. Right now, would it not be kind of bad for Jermz, I mean Jeremy, if he had to be moved somewhere kind of strange and everything? I mean, his Dad was just shot and killed, and I don't know about him, but if I were in his shoes I'd be really scared right now, or shocked or something." Turning to the psychiatrist, he continued. "I know too, sir, with all due respect, he doesn't want anything to do with you because of what happened, so no matter what's decided, I don't think you're going to be able to help him either. Jeremy, he's never had anyone to trust or look out for him since his Mom died, and to me that's what he really needs more than anything, you know?" He returned his gaze ot the judge. "Sorry sir, I just, I mean he needs people right now he can trust, doesn't he?" The man nodded, but looked puzzled. "What is it you're proposing then, son?" Thomas nervously cleared his throat again before looking at his Mom. "Wouldn't he be better with us?" His voice was a whisper, but he was clearly heard by everyone seated at the table. Linda smiled at him, but slowly shook her head. "Honey, that's not something we can decide, and you know that." Carolyn, on the other hand, spoke up. "No, he has every right to ask, and I cannot say it isn't something I wasn't already considering." There was an audible gasp in the room as Michael made his way forward to stand with the group. "Mom?" Although she looked and smiled at her son, she refocused herself back to those sitting around the table. "Everything that has been said here is true, and I cannot deny that there would be a certain benefit if we could take him in, if even the court would allow it for that matter." She sighed before addressing the judge. "Assuming the court would, my only reservation would be in the cost of his care. Right now we have very close quarters, and I'm sorry, but even if Linda and I pooled our resources, I don't-" The social worker at the end of the table spoke up, interrupting her. "The boy is officially a ward of the state, no matter what decision regarding his outcome is made." Noting the confusion on several faces surrounded her, she continue. "That means the cost of his care would now come under our discretion, and quite frankly, I can't see that he would be treated any differently from that of other foster children, at least not until he reaches the age of 18." The judge nodded, thinking very slowly. "Would social services have any problems if arrangements were made and the decision circumvented in favor of this evaluation?" The woman thought about that for a moment. "It is unusual, but I think I could persuade my supervisor to make an exception." She turned and addressed Linda and Carolyn. "That is, you understand, you would both have to submit to background checks and follow certain procedures to qualify for placement." She sighed as she sat back. "Quite frankly, from what I've heard this morning, I can't think of a better solution at this time. It's not that we would not find a place for him, your honor - we would without question. But where that may lie most like would be very detrimental for the boy. Social services is under an extreme load right now, more than ever, and we are barely keeping up with the kids in the system as it is. If he were placed in the care of this nurse, and they could meet at least the minimal requirements..." She left the comment unfinished. The judge turned to Carolyn, and addressed her very quietly. "Are you certain? It is unorthodox, but I will support it if you tell me to. It's obvious from these boys," he indicated the two still adjoined with them, "that you have all taken to Jeremy, and from what the doctors have noted, and given the circumstances - I can't think of a better outcome. But just as obvious, it appears the decision is still ultimately yours." Carolyn sat back, bewildered at the moment. Looking over at Linda, she saw the woman smile encouragingly, but remain silent in deference to the moment. Peering into Thomas's eyes beside her, Carolyn could see the hope there as he stood behind his mother, both hands firmly grasping her shoulders in anticipation. She turned around until she could see her own sons face, and found it amusing that Michael only grinned at her. They stared at one another for a long moment before he leaned down and took her in an embrace, before whispering in her ear, "Do it Mom, we know you want to, and so do we." Her eyes were moist at those words as she turned back around and nodded toward the judge. "We'll do our best, your honor." The old man smiled at her. "Somehow, I suspect, you will do a lot more than that." There was a collective sigh around the room as various individuals smiled with relief. - + - + - + - When they arrived at the hospital room, the four of them entered Jeremy's room, now situated in the third floor wing in a totally different area than where he had previously resided. Jeremy was sitting up in his bed, his knees folded and grabbed to his chest, and gazing out the open window. He turned as they entered, and his face visibly lit up at seeing his visitors. "Hey!" Both Thomas and Michael returned the greeting, all four of them smiling as they walked over. "How are you today kiddo?" Carolyn offered as sh eleaned in and gave Jeremy a quick hug. He shrugged his shoulders. "Better, now that you guys are here." He smiled at them, but there was a certain absence in his eyes which was noted by them all. Michael broke the silence. "So, I mean, you're doing okay, really?" Jeremy let go of his knees, extending them out underneath the covers of the bed. "Yeah, I guess so." Looking up at Carolyn, he offered her an apology. "I'm sorry mam, about everything. I didn't mean to bring all this down on you guys." Carolyn drew a finger to her lips to shush him. "You didn't do anything Jeremy, it wasn't your fault." Searching his eyes, she watched him for a moment. "You do understand that, don't you?" Linda had moved to the other side of the bed and actually sat down next to him, a rare gesture on her part and he noted it as she spoke to him. "It's true honey, there is nothing for you to be sorry about." "I just wish..." Jeremy started before hesitating. "I just wish he had gone and never come back." "There is nothing to go back to right now kiddo, it's over and what's done is done." She thought about it for a few seconds. "You know, I'm sorry it happened too, but your Dad may have just been waiting. Remember what he said at the end? 'Finally, it's over.' Almost as if, he had been waiting for it to end, like he was driven in some way to make it end for himself." Carolyn smiled at the teen. "It doesn't matter though. Mind you, I know he was your father, and I don't disrespect the dead as it is, but I think - I think perhaps in the end he knew what was going to happen, and he accepted it." Jeremy grunted, looking down at his feet. "I guess so," he replied listlessly. When he offered nothing more, Linda cleared her throat. "We uh, all came here to ask you something, if you feel up to listening to us for a minute." Jeremy looked up. "Ask me?" Linda nodded. "Honey, you know you're getting out of here soon, right?" Jeremy stared at her before replying, nodding his head. "Yes mam." Carolyn took over at this point. "We were wondering if you had any thoughts about what you might like to do when you're released." Jeremy shrugged his shoulders. "I figured I would have to be put in an orphanage or foster care or something." Carolyn nodded. "It's true, although you've practically took care of yourself all these years alone, for the most part, you're still a little young to be turned loose on your own. Plus, you're going to be going through some therapy for a while." She watched the teen visible grimace at that thought, then she giggled. "I don't think you have to worry about the quack here, we'll find you someone with a little better sense than the horse manure stuffed between his ears." Everyone in the room laughed at that, including the older teen that was now looking between both women, waiting to see where this conversation was going. When they all fell silent however, it was Michael and Thomas who stepped forward and took over. "Jermz, we been thinking and well..." Michael hesitated, and then plunged forward. "We was wondering what you might think of coming to live with us for a while." Jeremy stared in disbelief at each of their faces, surprise registering on every feature. "Serious?" "Yeah, seriously," Thomas chimed in. Jeremy started to smile and then quick shook his head. "They would never let me. I mean, I don't - well - I mean..." Carolyn cleared her throat this time. "Don't be so sure about that. Linda and I would have to undergo some scrutiny and a few things would have to fall into place, but it isn't that impossible. Thing is honey, we don't want to do this without knowing how you feel about it, first." Jeremy's gaze shuffled from one individual to the next before he settled on Thomas. "You too? Would you want this? I mean, I beat you bad man, and - and - I'm sorry about what happened, but still..." Thomas smiled at him. "Are you apologizing to me? You know, it's the first I've heard anything like it from you since it happened." Jeremy laughed before becoming very solemn. "I guess I am, but still man, I dunno." They searched each other's eyes before Thomas moved to sit down on the bed as well. "Listen, I'm not good with words like Mike and everyone else, so just hear me out for a minute, okay?" When the older teen nodded, Thomas continued. "It's like this, you need somewhere to go, with people who will respect you and everything, you know, be good to you. You've never really had that, I guess since your Mom died, and I think it makes a lot of difference sometimes having people around you can trust and stuff. As for us, you and me, I always sort of just saw you as being the big bully and everything, and on that one day I was just your latest victim, you know? The bullied - but I think we all know now who you really are." Jeremy's expression was one of curiosity, and as Thomas hesitated, he looked up at his mother who smiled at him encouragingly. At the same time Michael was close by his side, giving him the support he needed to finish what he wanted to say. He looked back down at the older teen and took a deep breath. "You weren't really the bully Jermz, but it was you who was the bullied. Everyone saw you the one way, but the truth was you were really the bullied. To me, that doesn't make you so bad after all, you know?" He stopped, his own voice beginning to crack. They had all decided before entering the room they would try to be as upbeat about everything as they could, and Thomas was now feeling guilty about having broken that. Michael on the other hand put a hand on his friend's shoulder and whispered "Well said bro - that was really cool." Carolyn, who heard the exchange, agreed. "Honey, sometimes I think you are better with words than you give yourself credit for." Turning to the older teen, she smiled. "Don't kid yourself Jeremy, to be honest I think it will be rough going for a little while, but - I think it could work kiddo. If you can be patient with us, we'll be patient with you and who knows? There might be something in it for all of us afterwards!" She said the last, looking up at Linda and exchanging knowing glances. Jeremy sat silently, his face almost expressionless before they all saw a tear suddenly appear and slide down one of his cheeks. Expressionless that is for most of them, but not for Michael, who had become accustomed to his new friend's reactions over the last few weeks. He moved in close and actually hopped himself up halfway onto the bed, and halfway onto Thomas's lap, which made them all laugh as they adjusted to make room. "Jermz? You got to know something else, too. This is something we WANT - all of us. We WANT you to come live with us, it's not like you have to, or like you have no other choice. We WANT you there man, honest." Jeremy almost lost it. "I don't know what to say." Linda grunted. "Just say yes, sweety." Jeremy looked at her and then in turn to the rest of them, then smiled. Through tears of happiness he whispered, "Yes!" (To be continued...) --------------------------------- Comments to: EKidKy@hotmail.com Other series by me: - Life's Road of Discoveries (www.Nifty.org, Gay-Young Friends section, Early 2008) - Terry and Sam - Short Story, Holiday Christmas Collaboration w/Ruwen (www.Nifty.org, Gay-No Sex section, Late 2008)