Date: Sat, 31 Jul 2010 02:36:01 -0700 (PDT)
From: CR
Subject: One For Jessie

To all the people who have pushed me to keep going. And to my dreams,
without which this story would not be possible.


Even though I knew that I needed to be here, hell, even though I wanted to
be here, it was all too fresh. I needed some time. It didn't help that the
small concrete room was about forty degrees. I was freezing, and I couldn't
wait to get out of the interrogation room. I was becoming impatient and the
smell of sweat from decades of suspects and witnesses was starting to make
me sick; the voices on the other side of the mirror were becoming louder.

 There was a loud sigh, then a large sounding man asked, "Can we get this
over with, already? He isn't guilty; why should we keep him waiting?"

There was a gruff chuckle, and then a voice retorted, "He's a fucking
faggot! I'm not going in there until I'm ready."

"God! You are such a bastard sometimes! Fine, have it your way, give me the
goddamn recorder."

I heard a door squeak open, footsteps in the hall, and seconds later the
door behind me ground against the floor as the larger of the two detectives
came plodding in. He stopped suddenly and looked down at me. I must have
been a sight. I had collapsed onto the steel table. I looked up into his
eyes, tears blurring my vision. He put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a
gentle squeeze, set the recorder on the table, pushed record, and began to
talk.

"Detective Davidson, questioning Anders Harmon, Male, Sixteen." He turned
and scowled at the mirror, and continued. "Anders,....I know this is hard
for you, but we need your side of the story. Please, answer my questions
honestly and try not to leave anything out. Are you ready to begin?"

I nodded, trying to keep myself from falling to pieces.

He took a seat in front of me, and gave me an apologetic smile.  "Ok, will
you please start by telling me what happened?  Tell me what started all of
this."

______________________________________________________________

It was the second day that I hadn't heard from Jessie. I was starting to
worry that he was very angry, more so than he normally gets. I didn't think
that he was angry with me, but still, when he gets mad, he shuts everyone
off.

The only thing I could think of that may have pissed him off so badly was
his dad. His dad is a devout Christian, and is very conservative. Jess knew
that of course, but he still felt that he needed to tell his parents. The
last time I had talked to him, was after dinner when he was leaving. He
told my mother and me that he was coming out to his parents. I walked him
home and begged him to think hard about what he was doing. I didn't want
his dad to forbid us from seeing each other. We live right next to each
other, but his dad could still keep us from visiting, or going on dates.
Jess wouldn't change his mind. He said that if he kept his secret, he would
be no better than his dad.

________________________________________________________________

"That was the last time I saw him."

The round man nodded.  "And when did you try to find Jessie, and when was
it that you decided something was wrong?"

"Well, the next day..."

________________________________________________________________

The next day, I woke later than normal.  I lay in bed thinking of the dream
I had been dreaming: Jessie and I on a beach. We were sitting on a beach
towel, watching the sunset, and holding hands. It was perfect, until it
began to rain and we got separated as we ran for cover.

I finally found the strength to roll out of bed and get dressed; I brushed
my teeth, tamed my hair, and checked for a message from Jessie on my cell.
Nothing. Maybe he was downstairs. I crossed my fingers as I tiptoed down
the stairs. To my surprise, Jessie wasn't asleep on the couch, like he
normally was. Normally when I wake up, he had already come by, had coffee
with my mom, and laid back down for a nap 'till I got up.

The rest of the day, I checked my online messages and cell phone every two
seconds. I wasn't going to miss it, if Jessie decided to talk. When I
wasn't checking for messages, I was leaving them. I called everyone I could
think of: friends and family, everyone except Jessie's dad...If he had
pissed Jessie off, and then he had pissed me off as well. I tried his cell,
and left him messages online, but after about twenty, I finally accepted he
wasn't going to answer, so I tried his mom's cell, but she didn't answer
either. The next day started very much like the previous day, but instead
of laying in bed thinking about Jessie, I was going to go talk to him and
try to figure out why he had abandoned me.  Well, at least I felt like he
had abandoned me, even if it wasn't true.

When I got to my cell, I had a text from Jessie.

"My mom and I left last night. Sorry for not coming to see you. Time to get
over me. Sorry, Babe."

I began to cry as I read the last sentence. Just as I feared, his dad must
have reacted really badly for them to leave...and Jessie would never call
me, "babe". He says it is so shallow. I needed to find out where he was. I
needed to see him. My fingers moved quickly over the numbers as I keyed my
reply: "Where are you?  And what do you mean time to get over you? I need
some answers! Please, Jessie. I love you and will never get over you. I
need to see you."  I hit send and watched the message fold into an envelope
that flew off the screen.

I need to talk to Mom. I ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mom was
standing at the sink pouring a cup of tea. She looked at me and smiled.

"Want a cup?"

"No, Mom.  I got a message from Jessie. Here, I'll read it to you."

I scrolled through my phone until I found the message that I was looking
for. Then read it aloud.

"My mom and I left last night. Sorry for not coming to see you. Time to get
over me. Sorry Babe."

She looked as hurt as I felt. She set the mug of tea on the white tiled
counter as she walk around it to my side. She hugged me and whispered into
my ear.  "It's hard, I know, but maybe its for the best."

Just then my phone began to chime off a happy tune, and we both jumped
apart. I looked down at the cell.

"NEW MESSAGE FROM: JESS"

I flipped open the phone and pushed "Read".

"Look," it read, "I don't want to hear from you again. You're a faggot; I
do not want to have anything to do with your kind."

________________________________________________________________

"It was at that point that I was sure that there was something wrong with
Jessie, and that he wasn't the one text messaging my phone. He never talked
like that, even about the people he hated most. He had never said anything
like it before.

The detective pulled a note pad from his pocket and scribbled a few notes.

"I see. And do you still have these messages on your phone?"

"No, That night I deleted them right before I went to bed. But our cell
phone company should have them on record."

He scribbled another note down.

"Ok, will you now tell me the events of today?"

________________________________________________________________

I had decide that today, I was going to confront Jessie's father. I got
dressed in my best clothes and told my mom were I was going. She was
hesitant to say ok, but after I pleaded, she agreed. Of course, she made
sure I had my cell phone.

Mom and I left the house at the same time. She locked the door behind us,
and handed me the spare key. I kissed her on the cheek then stood back as
she backed out of the drive.

"Have a good day at work. See you later."

"I will. Be careful, Hon."
________________________________________________________________

"I need to call her. I told her that I would call if there was any
trouble. Please. Can I call?"

He stood and paced the room, stopped in front of the mirrored glass and
sighed.

"Actually, we called her already. We assured her that you were fine, and
that we would be talking to you, she wants you to call when you're done
here. Please continue."
________________________________________________________________

I started across the lawn to Jessie's house. I pushed to doorbell button,
and listened for footsteps. There was no answer. I pushed it again. Still
no answer. I shook my head and started back to head back home, when our
neighbor Crista caught my attention.

Crista is a ten year old, and despite her autism, she is quite smart, and
always fun to be around. She always looks on the bright side of
things. Today she was out side playing in the front lawn of their house
with Jessie's little brother, Michael, who was the same age as Crista. I
watched them from across the street as they laughed and played. They had
blankets out on the lawn, and were wrapping themselves up in them.

I headed across the street to say hello and to ask Michael about Jessie.

"Hey Michael. Hi Crista."

They both gave me a hug and we all laughed

"What are you doing?"

Crista threw the blanket off of herself.

"Making cocoons!"

She held out the "oo" sound. I laughed and so did she.

"Were did you learn that?

"Jessie did it in the dark place."

"What do you mean?

She pointed to a small square in the crawlspace under the porch by which
she stood. Then she pointed across the street to Jessie's house. I turned
to Michael who started to shake.

"Michael, are you ok?

"I have to go!"

Michael turned and ran across the street, barely avoiding several cars as
he ran without caution back to his house.

I rang the door bell again , but to my surprise, this time Jessie's dad
answered.

"Sir, I was wondering if you could tell me where Jessie went. He sent me a
text message saying that he and his mom had left. I was hoping that he
wasn't...ahh...wrapped up somewhere."

"Yeah, he sent you one this morning. They left last night."

"Sir, you said he sent it this morning, as if you knew. But you say he left
last night."

"Look, let's discuss this inside. Come in; it won't kill you."

I glared at him, but followed.

"What on the earth are you talking about?" He replied over his sholder as
he entered the kitchen. "Are you feeling ok? Let me make some tea."


He went into the kitchen and I heard the stove click on and the kettle
clank on the grate. From the living room where I sat with Michael, I could
see his dad reflected on the glass of a picture frame. I watched as he made
the tea, and just before he poured it into cups, he pulled a blue bottle
from the cupboard above the stove and place a tablet into my cup. I knew
what he had put into the cup been deadly. I had to get out of here and call
the police, but not before I got to look under the house. That was one on
my priorities. Horrible thoughts filled my head. Without waiting for him to
return, I told Michael to come with me, and we left very quietly.

Outside, I walked around a few bushes to where the crawlspace was. I knelt
down on the hard stone and peered into the darkness. The cool damp musk
swam through the air. I couldn't see far though, so I took out my cell
phone, flipped it open, and let the light shine into the abyss. The floor
of the space was dirt and rats and bugs scurried here and there.  I shown
the light to the left. I found nothing. Then to the right, again nothing. I
was about to crawl out of the space when something caught my eye.  The red
stone of Jessie's class ring. I placed it into my pocket and, looked
farther into the darkness. On the far wall lay two blue tarps wrapped into
"cocoons". I was then convinced that one was Jessie and the other had to be
his mom.

At that moment I called the police, and told them what had happened and
what I had seen and they said that there were no units in the area at the
moment, but to stay calm that someone would be there in less than five
minutes.

________________________________________________________________


The detective had now lit a giant cigar that was filling the room with a
rank smoke. My tears had begun to flow freely now. I held nothing back and
tried to remember every detail.

"Sir, the last part happened so quickly, I..."

"Just tell me what you can remember"
________________________________________________________________

I had just finished the call to the police when I heard Michael's scream
come from the house. I had thought he was right behind me. He must have
stayed. Either way, I had to save him. I pulled the mace from my pocket and
headed back into hell.

Michael was on his knees grasping and clawing at his fathers' hand. His
father had taken a handful of hair and lifted Michael several inches from
the floor. The knife was dancing on his neck.

"What the hell did you say?  How did he find out? I told you what I would
do to you!"

Michael gasped and cried out his innocence, but his father wasn't
convinced. He raised the kitchen knife. Time stood still as I made my
move. I shoved the man from the boy and as he fell, I let the mace rain
down on him.

The woman on the phone asked me if I was ok.

"Yes, you could say that."

"I want you to get into a closet, and lock the door"

I could here sirens several blocks away.

I turned grabbed Michael's wrist and ran back to my house. I took Michael
to the hall closet and told him to stay there and to be very quiet. I then
remembered the small handgun mom kept in the house. She had always told me
not to touch it unless someone was trying to break into the house, but I
didn't think this was too far from an emergency.  I took it out of the
small leather case. I could only hope that it was loaded. I made my way
back to the hall just as the door flew open.

I turned and pointed the gun at the man standing in front of me..

"I know want you did. I know that you killed him!"

He move toward me.  "Stop! Don't come any closer! I SWEAR! I'LL SHOOT!

My threat must not have been too convincing as he continued closer. I aimed
for his leg, and pulled the trigger. I guess the years of setting untouched
had caused some wear on the gun, because it was difficult to pull the
trigger all the way back, but after the split second delay, the gun fired.

"You bastard child! You shot me! I should have killed you when I had the
chance!"

He stood and started toward me again. he raised the knife and lunged for
me. The trigger pulled easier the second time and soon I felt the blood
running down my chest as he collapsed, falling onto me. I heaved the body
off of me and it fell to the floor with a thud.

"And that's one for Jessie."

I reached down to pick up the squawking phone from the floor.

"Are you ok? I heard gun shots! Please talk to me. Several units are on
their way!"

Words poured from the earpiece of my cell phone. I walked to the closet
door and opened it. Michael sat in the far corner hugging his knees,
crying. I could only imagine how hard it must be for him. He had lost
everyone. I reached out and he took my hand and I pulled him into an
embrace.

"I shot him. He almost killed us!"

"The officers should be there any second"

Actually, they were walking into the house as she spoke the words; guns
pointed in every direction. I heard one of them shout.

"Drop the gun! Slowly lay it on the floor and put your hands on the back of
your head."
________________________________________________________________

"I guess you know the rest, Detective."

"Yes, I guess we do. Look, Anders, I like I said before. This must be a
very heavy burden, but I have to ask. Will you testify this in the Court of
Law?"

"I will. And I will do anything else that is needed to be done to put this
man away for good. But, I also have a question. What will happen to
Michael?"

He shrugged, then grinned.

"Apparently, his father had some sense. He signed legal guardian ship over
to your mother today."

A PA system switched on.

"Mr. Harmon's mother is here."

I stood and Detective Davidson shook my hand. He smiled and looked me in
the eye.

"Its people like you who make this job worth it. You may go."

He walked me out to the main doors, but told me that he would call my mom
in the morning. I walked into the waiting room to find my mom with Michael
curled up against her chest. No doubt, most likely sleeping. I sat next to
them and took my mom's hand and kissed her on the cheek. I began to cry. I
was grateful that Michael had survived and would be living with us. He was
one of the only things that still linked his brother and I. I became aware
of something in my pocket. I slid a hand into my pocket and pulled out
Jessie's class ring. I kissed it, and slid it onto my finger. Mom was
watching and smiled through here own tears.

"Let's go home."


THE END