Date: Mon, 17 May 2021 23:30:14 +0000 From: entirelyawesome Subject: Finding Holland - Chapter Three Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction; this story may depict sexual acts between adolescent boys. If reading such a story is illegal where you reside, please do not read any farther. This work of fiction belongs to the author and should not be re-posted or reproduced without his permission. Generous donations from readers like you support this amazing platform, please consider contributing to Nifty: http://donate.nifty.org/ *** Finding Holland - Chapter Three Holland felt nervous and kept adjusting the starched collar of his shirt as he waited with Ms. Wright in the judge's chambers. Judge Eleanor Donnelly was an older woman who spoke very kindly to him when he arrive and took great interest in getting to know a bit about him while they waited for his mystery aunt to arrive. He had never met his dad's half-sister before now and already he didn't like the woman. She was nearly twenty minutes late for the custody hearing and he could tell the judge was also becoming impatient as they chatted while sitting at the large table. "I'm sorry I'm late," Britany said entering the room, wearing what looked like an old cocktail dress," but it was a bitch to find a parking spot." When she sat down at the table, Holland saw several tattoos above her boobs and noticed she smelled like a used ashtray. "Ah, Ms. Dixon, I am glad you could join us," Judge Donnelly said cheerful, extending her hand. "You must be Holland," Britany said, shaking the judge's hand but looking directly at him. "Yes, ma'am," was all Holland offered. "Well, you look much better than your dad did at your age. He was already fat and ugly," she said, laughing at her own joke--no one else laughed. "Yes, Ms. Dixon," the judge began, "because we are a bit behind schedule, we should get started right away as I must be leaving for family court in just a few minutes. Now, I have reviewed your petition and, as you know, there has also been an adoption application submitted for of your nephew. Ms. Wright, here, is with Child Protective Services and will be representing the state and Holland during this discussion. Do you have any questions, before we begin?" Britany looked directly at Ms. Wright then said, "Just one question, have the folks wanting to adopt the boy changed their mind about anything?" "No, there has been no change," Ms. Wright responded without offering and additional information in front of Holland. "Then no, judge...I don't suppose I got have any more questions, I guess." Holland, confused by the question, looked at his so-called aunt then to Ms. Wright but nothing more was spoken regarding the topic. The judge continued, "Very well then, I have reviewed all of the documents related to this case and have made note Ms. Dixon has successfully undergone background screening and provided proof of employment to the court. Ms. Wright, I have also noted the state does not concur with the petition of custody placement of Holland to Ms. Dixon on the basis of her place of employment, the Tangos Strip Club, and her criminal history record, is that correct?" "Yes, that is correct, your Honor," Ms. Wright replied. "Well, as the state knows, once a citizen has successful completed his or her non-felony sentence, that crime can no longer be used against the citizen in a civil proceeding. And as for her place of employment, it is not the role of this court to impose moral judgments when the employment is lawful. Does the state have any other objections to present regarding this custody hearing?" "No, your Honor." "Well, then it is the judgment of this court, Holland Carter will be immediately awarded and placed in the custody of Britany Dixon with all parental rights intact." The judge signed and stamped the paperwork on the table then had her assistant take the documents away to make copies. "Now, if you folks will excuse me, I don't want to be late for court," Judge Donnelly stood then turned to Holland, "young man, I know this is not the outcome you had wanted, but in my experience, children do best when they are with their biological families. Give them the benefit of the doubt, they might just surprise you." With that, the judge walked out the door leaving Holland and Ms. Wright alone with Britany. "Holland, I am parked out front in the green Pontiac. I'm going out for a smoke before we hit the road. Get your shit, I mean, your `stuff' so we can get going. We gotta long drive ahead of us tonight." Britany walked from the room while adjusting her dress that looked to be a size or more too small for her. "Wait, that's it...?" Holland said confused, looking at Ms. Wright. "I'm afraid so, son. I'm sorry, but we talked about it and we always knew this could happen." He was devastated, not because he was being given to his aunt against his wishes--but, because he had been holding out hope he would ultimately be reunited with Tyde and the rest of his chosen family. As reality set in, Holland began to tear up, "Can y-you tell them goodbye for m-me...?" "You can tell them yourself," Ms. Wright put her hand in her purse then produced his phone and a small sealed envelope, handing them to him, she said, "Monica asked me to give these to you if the adoption application was unsuccessful. Everyone was so hopeful you would be returning home to them today--but, she wanted you to have them should the worst-case scenario occur. She also wanted me to remind you to keep the phone hidden so no one can take it away from you. We added my email address and phone number to your contacts, please call me if you ever need help, okay?" "I will, thank you so much...for everything," he said with wet eyes before giving her a long hug. "My pleasure, Holland. Please take care of yourself. Now, let's go get your things." *** Holland sat in the dirty Pontiac while he waited for Britney to finish smoking. The floor of the car was littered with trash and old food wrappers, he felt a bit disgusted because it reminded him of his dad's pickup. Holland could hear her having a loud conversation on her phone as she was cursing at whomever she was speaking. He slid his phone into his sock and pulled the leg of his pants over it then checked to make sure it couldn't be seen. He then opened the envelope--inside was some cash and a note that read, "Holland, if you are reading this, the custody hearing did not go well, and I'm so sorry. We were hopeful you would be coming back to us today. You know we love you and care about you deeply. You will always be a part of our family, always. Your aunt may have her own reasons for taking you in but I believe those may be selfish reasons--just know, a `silent protest' may be all that's needed to change her mind about you. Your safety is the most important thing to us so don't do anything to put yourself in danger. Be sure to throw away this note, spend your money wisely, and keep your phone hidden. Good luck to you, my son--we remain hopeful we will see you again very soon. Love always, Monica." Holland quickly re-read the note and paused on the words, "silent protest." He quickly understood what she was asking him to do--but he wondered if he had the courage to go through with it. He then tore up the note into as many small pieces as he could then put them back into the envelope before stuffing it and the money into the pocket of his pants. He watched Britany drop her cigarette butt onto the sidewalk then walk toward the car as he braced himself for a long and awkward road trip. *** "You don't talk much, do you...?" Britany asked, after attempting to start up a conversation a few times once the car was on the highway, "Look, I know this ain't want you wanted, but you don't have to be so pissy about it the whole way home." Holland simply stared out the passenger-side window at the scenery passing by as they drove. "Just so you know, this whole thing ain't my bright idea," she pause for a response but got none--Holland remained stoic, "okay...if you're gonna be on your period like a little bitch, I'd rather listen to some music," she said, turning on the car stereo and blasting a heavy metal song. After rolling down her window and lighting up a smoke, she sang off-key between drags on the cigarette. They drove until dark then stopped at a convenience store for gas. Britany shut off the engine then turned to Holland and asked, "Got any money?" Holland simply stared back at her from his seat, "Hey, cut the horse shit...you got any money?" Again, he said nothing. "Oh for fucks sake!" Britany unfastened Holland's seat belt then began going through his pockets. Once she had found the bills, she started counting the money, "I knew they wouldn't send you off without giving you something," she looked at Holland, "you're part this family now and everybody's got to pitch in, you understand? Besides, we're gonna be stuck out here if we don't get some gas." Holland looked at his aunt with disgust before opening the door and getting out of the car. "You run off, it won't be me coming to bring you back...it'll be the cops," Britany said getting out of the car then removing the gas cap. Holland looked at her for a few seconds then turned and walked away to find a restroom. After peeing, he washed his hands at the sink then looked at himself in the dirty mirror. The bags under his eyes made him look weary and he felt tired. This was perhaps the worst day of his life--even counting the day his dad threatened to beat the shit out of him. He felt emotionally exhausted and lost, wanting nothing more than to walk into traffic and get hit by a car--at least then, it would all be over, quick. But then he thought about Tyde, and how sad he would be if he died. Holland allowed himself a few minutes to cry privately, he did not want his aunt to see his tears. Once he was able to compose himself, he washed his face before walking back to the dirty green Pontiac and again sitting in the passenger seat. Moments later, Britany got into the driver's seat, threw a plastic bag into his lap and said, "Here, dinner..." He decided his silent protest would also include not eating--for now, he turned his head away from her and stared out the window into the darkness. "Well, fuck you too," she said starting the car, lighting a cigarette, and getting back on the highway. *** They drove until well past midnight before taking an off ramp and parking at a motel. "You get the back seat," Britany said getting out of the car then opening the trunk. Holland was momentarily confused until he realized they were not getting a room at the motel, just sleeping in the parking lot. He got out of the car then walked far enough away so not be seen by the passing traffic to pee again. When he returned, Britany had closed the trunk and had change out of her tight dress and into jeans and a t-shirt. "I am tired as shit," she said, getting back into the front seat and pulling a jacket over herself. Holland knew it was going to get cold in the car so he pulled his hoodie from his bag and put it on before getting into the backseat and laying down using his backpack as a pillow. "Don't for get your dinner," he heard her say before he felt the bag from the convenience store hit him in the stomach before falling to the floor of the car. Holland, determined not to cry himself to sleep, simply curled up on his side and prayed meteor would hit the car during the night. *** "Hey, wake up...we're here," Holland heard Britany say. Once he was fully awake, he sat up from the back seat and rubbed his eyes. He saw they were driving and were no longer on the highway but in a small town. The sun was still rising as the car pulled into a trailer park then stopped just beside a trailer with cheap plastic pink flamingos in the yard. "Get your bags and bring them inside." Holland got out of the car and looked around the trailer park--it was a bit run down with various discarded household appliances and used tires in some of the lots. He retrieved his backpack and his gym bag from the car before following Britany into the trailer after she unlocked the front door. "That's your bedroom," she said pointing to the small living room sofa, "the bathroom is down the hall and my bedroom at the end," Holland put his bags down on the sofa just before she said, "come with me." He followed her back outside and across the narrow street to the nearest trailer, she knocked on the door. An older, plump woman with a cane slowly shuffled onto the tiny porch. "Is this him?" the old woman asked, looking him over through dirty eyeglasses. "That's right, tell Jose to come by at noon to get him," Britany said to the old woman. Turning to Holland, she said, "This is Ms. Turner, she owns the trailer park...you work for her now. Jose is the handyman, he will be here in a few hours to show you what to do. Just be here at noon and don't be late." Holland simply looked at her and blinked a few times. "Can the boy talk?" Ms. Turner asked, looking uncertain at Holland. "Yeah, he talks just fine, he's being a little prick right now but he'll snap out of it after a few hours of hard work." "He better be a good worker," Ms. Turner said to Britany, "...if he ain't, you still gotta pay your back lot fees, that's the deal." "Don't worry, he'll work hard. I won't put up with any foolishness from him," Britany said walking away. Holland followed close behind back into her trailer. "Listen, you need to knock off this `no talking' bullshit. I gotta get a shower then go to work. You can hang out here until twelve o'clock but be sure you change into some clothes you can get dirty then meet Jose at Ms. Turner's trailer." Before leaving take her shower, she walked back out to the car then returned with the convenience store food she had gotten for him the previous day then tossed the bag to him, "And eat the goddamn food," she said before walking down the narrow hallway. *** "What do you mean he ain't there...?" Britany said into the phone, looking at the wall clock, immediately getting pissed--it was just after 1:00 p.m. "Did Jose knock on my trailer door...? That fuckin' kid, tell Jose to wait...no, I'll be there in ten minutes...okay, bye." Britany was angry as she drove too fast toward the trailer park. Her boss was close to firing her for taking three days off and now she was leaving him short a bartender the day she finally got back to work. She slammed on the car brakes when she reached her parking spot in front of the trailer. Ms. Turner was sitting on her porch shaking her head at her slowly side-to-side once she got out of the car. Britany almost ran onto her own porch then threw open the trailer door. She found Holland sitting on the couch just as she had left him this morning, looking like he had not moved a muscle. "What the fuck are you doing? I told you to be at Ms. Turner's at twelve o'clock," she yelled at Holland when she got inside the trailer. He calmly looked back at her but did not say a word. "Do you think this is some kind of joke...? I told you everybody got to pitch in, you need to do your part and get your narrow ass out that door right fuckin' now!" Holland's face was completely blank as he blinked back at her a few times. "That's it...that is it...! I've had it with your shitty attitude!" she screamed, picked up the phone and made a call, "Otis, you need to come to my trailer right now and straighten out your fuckin' kid...!" The mention of his dad made Holland break out in a cold sweat. "Was my dad really here?" he thought to himself in a panic, praying his aunt was playing some sort of ruse on him to get him to cooperate. The police had been unable to locate his dad since he had literally thrown him out onto street--this had to be a trick. She ended the call, faced Holland and said, "You can either get your ass to work right now or you can deal with your daddy when he gets here in a few minutes," she saw the worry and fear in the boy's eyes as she spoke, "I gotta get back to work...I suggest you get to work too." Britany walked out the door and he heard her car start up then drive away--leaving him to his fate. *** "I should beat the shit out of you right now," Otis said once he had arrived and found his son sitting on the sofa in the trailer. Holland immediately jumped to his feet with a look of terror on his face. He had not seen his father in months but it seemed just like yesterday when he thought his dad was going to kill him--he felt himself beginning to tremble. "What the fuck do you think this is, you little faggot...some sort of vacation?" Otis roared and poked his index finger hard into Holland's small chest, "I don't got time for this shit you son of a bitch...the next time Britany tells you to do something, you better goddamn do it quick, you got me?" Holland was sweating and felt weak in the knees as his dad loomed over and cursed at him. The only place Holland wanted to be at that moment is someplace else--anyplace else. Which is why he could not believe his own weak voice when he heard himself say, "No." Otis looked equally incredulous for a few seconds before he asked, "What the fuck did you say to me, boy...?" Otis grabbed his son by the neck with both hands and picked him up off of his feet and shook him--hard, "Who the FUCK do think you're talking to? Don't you EVER talk back to me or I will fuckin' kill your faggot ass!" Otis threw his son down on the couch then slapped the boy's face as hard as he could with his meaty hand. Holland's head snapped back from the impact of the blow and he felt himself beginning to pass out from the pain. He heard himself cry out and tasted the coppery flavor of blood in his mouth--the entire left side of his face was stinging so badly it felt like it was on fire. Otis continued to scream, "If I ever hear another word out of you again, I won't hesitate to use my fist next time!" he began clenching his hands to control his rage before he really did kill the boy, "...you do what Britany says and pray to God I never have to leave work to come over here again," he paused for a second looking down at his crying son and said, "...and stop crying like a little bitch before I really give you something to cry about," then walked out of the trailer. Holland lay on the couch until he heard his dad's truck drive away then slowly began to collect himself. He experienced an odd sense of déjà vu--remembering how he had woken in the clinic at the group home. He sat up and wiped the tears from his eyes, tying not to touch the left side of his face. He stood carefully on shaky legs then walked to the small shelf hanging on the wall of the trailer to retrieve his cell phone--which he had just used to video record the entire beating. *** Video evidence was what Holland had hoped to capture when he had carefully placed the phone on the shelf then prayed his dad wouldn't see it. Because he knew it was his only chance to record what was about to happen. He also prayed he wouldn't be so badly hurt that he wouldn't be physically able to retrieve it and text the video to Ms. Wright--which is exactly what he did after also taking a few selfie photos of his swollen face and his bleeding split lip. Within minutes, his phone rang. "Hello?" "Holland, my God...are you okay?" Ms. Wright asked, sounding alarmed. "Yeah, I think so." "Are you in a safe place right now?" "I don't think my dad is coming back...so yeah, I'm safe for now." "Good, stay where you are. Can you send me the address of where you're located?" Holland looked around the cluttered trailer until he found a stack of overdue bills on the messy kitchen counter. He picked up a letter with Britany's name and the address of the trailer park then read the information to Ms. Wright. "I am going to hang up then call the local police department. Stay inside the residence until you hear the police officer at door...do you understand, Holland?" "Yes, ma'am." "Don't worry, we will get you out safely." "Thank you," he said just before the line disconnected. Holland sat back down on the couch and, in spite of his injuries, he felt better than he had in a long time. So good, in fact, he finally acknowledged how hungry he was then opened the plastic bag from the convenience store. Inside he found a cold egg salad sandwich and a small tub of chocolate pudding with a little plastic spoon. He ate the food while trying to avoid his split lip and thought it was one of the best meals he had ever tasted. *** End of Chapter Three To be concluded in Chapter Four Your feedback is greatly appreciated --> entirelyawesome@protonmail.com Other Nifty stories by this author: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/sons-of-zeus/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-bastard-boy https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/night-swimming/