The Metamorphosis of Jeremiah Long, Chapter 32
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David (dlee169@hotmail.com)
The Metamorphosis of Jeremiah Long, Chapter 32
Brent and Brock had barely settled themselves in the family room to enjoy a quiet night watching TV when the doorbell rang. Brock got up to answer it.
"Jim, come on in. How are you holding up?"
"Much better than 24 hours ago, that's for sure. Just felt I needed to visit a minute."
"Have you eaten dinner?" Brent asked, coming to join them.
"No, but I'll find something when I get home."
"Please let me warm up the leftovers from dinner. They've barely had time to cool off. It all reheats pretty well, especially the Italian zucchini boats that Davy made."
"Hmm... That sounds intriguing; I guess I'll take you up on the offer."
The men headed for the kitchen and Brock began to take things out of the fridge while Brent set a place for Jim.
"May I offer you a beer, some wine, or a good stiff drink," he asked.
"A shot of Jack over ice would be most appreciated," Jim responded.
While he sat sipping his drink, he updated his hosts on what had transpired. They had heard most of it from the boys and Melba, but they listened attentively.
When the food was ready, Jim began to dig in and express his appreciation. He hadn't enjoyed a meal since Todd had been wounded, only eating to keep up his strength.
"Mmm, this is delicious! I hope Dave teaches Jon how to make these zucchini things, and I'd love your recipe for the Marsala too. Wow!"
"I'm glad you like it, and I'll email you both recipes," Brent said. "Now, what else can you tell us about Todd?"
"He's improved a lot in the last few hours. His speech is better, though not perfect, and they had him up to take a few steps with a walker. That exhausted him, but before he fell asleep he `commanded' me to go home to rest. He threatened to kick my ass if I didn't, claiming that I had promised to love, honor, and obey in our wedding ceremony and I'd better obey!
Like Jon, it thrills me to see that he hasn't lost his sense of humor. To us, that bodes well. He does have some memory loss, but the doctors are hopeful it's only temporary. We'll have to wait and see. At the very least, his personality hasn't changed; he's still the man I married."
"That has to be a relief," Brent said. "I'm sure you'd stick by him and learn to love the new Todd, but that could be difficult."
"Yeah, it can be a deal-breaker for some people and has been for one of our officers. I think their marriage was rocky before his head injury, but she divorced him right after he began to recover. He's different and he'll never be a hundred percent, but it seemed cold-hearted to most of us that she dumped him when it was obvious he was going to live. I'm trying not to judge her, but I couldn't do it to Todd."
"You're a good man, James Rankin," Brock remarked.
"Not good enough to protect him," Jim said quietly.
His shoulders began to shake and big tears streamed down his face.
He was back in that apartment reliving the terrible moment when he saw the gun and couldn't react before the woman got off the first shot.
He aimed for her gun-hand, but his shot missed its mark as Todd fell toward him. She got off two more rounds which went into the ceiling as she crumpled to the floor.
Jim kicked her gun out of the reach of her boyfriend and handcuffed him to a radiator pipe so he couldn't make a break for it. It surprised him how his strength had increased seemingly tenfold in the emergency situation and how easily he'd subdued the man all by himself.
The first thing he did after calling for help was to look after Todd. The bullet hole wasn't big, but given where it was, it could be fatal. There was nothing to be done but hold him and wait for the ambulance.
"You aren't to blame!" Brock insisted, as he massaged Jim's shoulders, bringing him back to the present.
"But I should have anticipated it."
"It's easy to second-guess," Brent joined in. "You're super and you're a man, but you aren't Superman. No one is. We are all prone to replay scenes like that and wish we could have a do-over. It's simply NOT YOUR FAULT!"
"That's what Melba said too."
"Well then, believe her. If anyone could find fault with a guy, it's his mother-in-law!" Brock exclaimed. "I know that from experience. If Melba holds you blameless then you have to believe you are!"
"I suppose you're right."
"We are," Brock insisted. "Don't get down on yourself. You'll need all of your strength to help Todd get well again. You did your best!
Now, is there anything else we can do for you? Oh, you must try some of the Jell-O dessert Mark and Joe made."
The land line rang while Brock and Brent were watching the late news and Brent picked it up after he saw that it was from Merle Dahl.
"Hello Mr. Dahl."
"Hello Mr. Mason-Hart, is your son Joe still up by chance? I have a very distraught boy on the line who wants to talk to someone his own age who knows what he's going through. I'm afraid he may be suicidal."
"I'll go check. If it's that important, I'm sure Joe will want to take the call even if I have to awaken him."
Brent put the cordless phone on mute while he hurried upstairs with it to find Joe. Seeing a ray of light under the door, he tapped.
"Come in," Joe called after a couple of moments.
Brent tried to turn the knob, but it was locked. A couple of seconds later, Joe, with a towel wrapped around his waist, opened it.
"Sorry, I forgot we'd locked it."
"No problem; that's the best policy when, um, entertaining."
Joe blushed as did Mark who was propped up in bed with a sheet pulled up to his armpits.
"I hate to interrupt you, but Merle is on the phone and it sounds urgent."
"No problem," Joe answered as he took the phone.
After Merle informed Joe about what was going on with the boy who had called the hot-line, he connected them directly as a three-way call, but said he would not interrupt unless absolutely necessary.
Brent slipped quietly out of the room and closed the door behind him.
"Hi, I'm Joe. How can I help you?"
"Are you the kid that got beaten up by your dad?"
"Yup, I still have scars from the buckle of the belt he used on me."
"Okay, then you know why I don't want to live."
"I've been in that dark place," Joe admitted. "I call it the pit of the shadow of death, kinda like the valley in the 23rd Psalm."
"That's what it's like alright," the kid agreed.
"Hey, I'd like to know your name if I may," Joe requested.
"I'm Jeff, Jeff Becker. I'm sitting here in the bathroom with a bottle of pills and I just want someone to be able to give me a reason not to take them."
"I hear you Jeff. I don't know if I can convince you, but I can tell you that life can get better if you can find an adult you can trust."
"Hmmm, you sound like all those people who try to keep gay kids from killing themselves. Why should I buy it?"
"Well, you might not believe it, but I'm living proof. As a gay kid my life's done a 180 since my new dad and his partner adopted me. I'm happy and I'm dating the most awesome guy in the world.
If you don't mind, I'll put this phone on speaker so my boyfriend can join in."
"Okay."
"Hi, I'm Mark. Can you hear me now?"
"Is this a Verizon commercial?" Jeff quipped, sounding more relaxed.
"I guess it could be because Joe and I both have Verizon phone plans. Seriously, what Joe said is true. I think I got closer to doing myself in than Joe did because of being sexually abused, but we both have a great life now, and I'm so glad I didn't check out."
"I guess I don't really want to die, but it gets pretty rough when my father gets drunk and takes it out on me."
"Is there a school counselor or someone you could talk to?" Joe asked.
"Maybe, if school were in session."
"What about a sports coach or someone at church or possibly the police?" Mark suggested.
"We don't go to church and I don't really trust some of the policemen in this town. There's a wrestling coach who said we could talk to him about `anything' and he'd help us, but he's kinda touchy-feely and it's creepy, if you know what I mean. It's like he wants to feel me up."
"I know what you're talking about. My swimming coach was like that and he was the one who molested me. Listen to your gut!"
"I plan to."
"I wish I could come up with a solution," Joe said. "People in education, medicine, and social work are mandatory reporters. Maybe librarians are too. You might go to the library and see if they could find you help."
"Um, the lady next door is a nurse. I'm sure she would help, but I hate to get her involved because my father is crazy and he might try to hurt her. He's got a gun and he's threatened me with it more than once."
"Man, you need to get out of that house!" Mark insisted.
"I guess I'll have to do that in the morning.
I hear my father coming. Oh shit! I should be in bed and he's gonna be angry..."
"Are you in there jacking off again, you little pervert?"
"No sir. I had to take a dump. I'll be out in a minute."
"Why is this door locked? I've told you not to do that. Open it up or I'll break it down!"
"I'm going out the window, guys. Wish me luck." Jeff whispered into the phone. "I should probably hang up."
"No, keep the phone on so we know what's happening," Joe pleaded. "And be careful!"
Jeff undid the screen and eased himself onto the grass. There wasn't really much of a drop because the house was a one-story ranch. He hit the ground running about the time his father kicked in the door.
"I'm coming after you, you little bastard," he yelled out the window. "You're dead meat! I'm gonna hunt you down like the animal you are. I'll tell the cops I thought you were an intruder."
As he ran, a voice came from next door, "Psst, come in and I'll protect you."
"He's gonna kill me and he'll get you too if you interfere, Ms. Thompson."
"I'm tougher than he is and I have a gun too. Come on in and go upstairs to my bedroom and lock the door. It's the most fortified room in the house and you'll be safer there while we wait for the police."
Holly Thompson had barely managed to lock the back door when Jeff's father started pounding on it.
"Go on upstairs while I try to reason with him and stall for time."
"I can't leave you alone with him. There's no reasoning with him!"
"I'm not alone; I have God and my Bersa 380. Now go!" she whispered.
Jeff scampered to the top of the stairs, but didn't want to be out of hearing range.
"Please leave. The police are on their way," Holly called out.
"I'm not going until I take care of that little shit, and I have a gun," he shouted.
"I'm armed too, and I will shoot you if you break into my house."
"Yeah, right! You don't have a gun and you wouldn't know how to shoot one if you did."
"Are you feeling lucky enough to test that theory?" she said as she switched on the porch light to momentarily blind him and to give her a better chance of seeing where he was.
"Bitch!" he yelled, as he shot out the light. "You're not as smart as you think you are."
"Smarter than you," she taunted.
She stationed herself in the pantry at right angles to the window he was in the process of breaking, crouching down so he wouldn't be likely to see her. She managed to toss a can over toward the range a split second before he climbed through the jagged opening.
He fired toward the noise and she shot his gun hand at close range. He fell to the floor and didn't move. She turned on the kitchen light, but kept her gun trained on his back.
"Don't move or I'll shoot your sorry ass!" she commanded.
He didn't respond.
Jeff had been whispering into his phone to keep the boys and Merle informed. Now he talked in a normal voice.
"She's got the situation under control and I hear a police car. I'm gonna turn on the lights and open up the front to let them in. I'll try to call you back later."
"They're in the kitchen," he told the officers.
"Well, well," Officer Harms grinned. "I thought you were crazy when you applied for a gun permit, but I see it was a wise move after all."
"If you'll cuff him, I'll see if I can save him. He doesn't seem to be breathing."
"I suppose you have to since you took the Hippocratic Oath, but I hate to see you spend too much effort on this trash. Oops, sorry, son, I guess he's your father."
"It's okay. He threatened to kill me and I think he would have if Ms. Thompson hadn't stopped him, so you don't need to apologize to me."
"Still, it was insensitive."
"He's unresponsive," Nurse Thompson announced as she performed CPR. Perhaps the EMTs can resuscitate him."
"He can't be dead; from what I can see you didn't hit a vital area."
"I may not have killed him, but something got him."
"Maybe it was God," Jeff speculated.
The paramedics took over from Holly as soon as they arrived, but they couldn't seem to do anything for him either. They kept working on him as they transported him to the hospital.
"Now the problem is what to do with this young man," Office Harms said. "Is his mother around?"
"My mother's dead, sir," Jeff answered. "I can go home. He left me home alone lots of night and sometimes for days at a time."
"That's child neglect, and we can't be party to that," the policeman answered.
"It's a lot better alone than with him around," the boy insisted as he pulled up his shirt to reveal the bruises and welts.
"Damn!" the other officer swore. "I can take him home with me for the time being until he can be placed in foster care or something."
"Let him stay here," Holly pleaded. "I have plenty of room. I can get licensed to be a foster parent if necessary. I don't want to see him trapped in the system."
"What would you like to do other than to go back to your house, Jeff?"
"I'd rather stay here."
"Okay, we'll leave you with Ms. Thompson for now."
It was nearing 2:00 a.m. by the time the crime scene investigators had taken statements and thoroughly checked and photographed the premises.
They didn't leave until they were satisfied with their findings and decided there was no reason to make Holly and Jeff go to a motel for the night.
Holly went with Jeff to his house so he could gather up a few changes of clothes, his wallet, phone charger, and other things he might need, as well as lock up the house.
Back at her home, she showed him to a pleasant bedroom.
"That bathroom across the hall is all yours because I have one attached to my bedroom. You'll probably want to take a shower to help you relax and then come downstairs and we'll have a snack before bedtime if you're not too tired."
Jeff was very happy to wash off the sweat and the scent of fear that clung to his body. He toweled off, put on a pair of basketball shorts, applied deodorant to his pits, and spiked his hair. It was a style that his father had forbidden him to sport. He smiled at the cute boy in the mirror.
"You look so good, I could lick your body all over," he said to his image.
When he came down to the kitchen, he found Holly on the porch with a sheet of plywood and a drill getting ready to make the house safe.
"Wow, you clean up real good," she teased.
"Thanks. And thanks for saving my life. I forgot to say that with all the excitement."
"I heard you telling the policemen how much you appreciated it and that was enough. I'll bet you'd have done the same for me."
"I would have if I had a gun and the expertise to shoot it."
"Don't rush into owning one. I don't feel that great about what I did."
"You saved my life! That's great."
"But I took another."
"It doesn't look like you did. They said you didn't hit anything but his hand."
"I still feel responsible."
"You are responsible – for saving me and giving me my life back.
Here, let me at least hold the board in place while you screw it on."
They worked well as a team because he had helped her with odd jobs in the past. She had always insisted on paying him to give him a bit of spending money.
By the time they'd secured the house and had cookies and milk, Jeff was so exhausted that he could barely drag himself up the stairs. He pulled off his shorts and climbed naked between the clean, fresh sheets.
Before falling asleep, he sent a short text to Merle and asked him to share it with Joe and Mark.
Melba appeared at the door before Brock and Brent had had time to make breakfast.
"I made this egg casserole and breakfast ring for Jim and the boys and I made enough extra to share if you think it's fit to eat."
"It smells delicious!" Brock enthused as he showed her into the kitchen.
"I'll see if Joe and Mark are conscious yet. They had a rough night."
"Really, what happened?"
"I'll let them tell you the details, but basically they helped save a kid who was desperate enough to consider leaving this life."
"Oh my! That was indeed a heroic mission."
The boys came straggling down in their boxers, not paying attention to their attire until they saw Melba.
"We'll go put something on," Joe said. "Sorry, we didn't know we had company."
"Don't bother on my account," Melba assured him. "I just left a man and two boys in the same state of undress. It's fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course; now grab some plates and silverware and dig in before this gets cold."
With a little prodding on her part, Melba soon got the boys talking about the adventures of the previous night. They downplayed their role, but admitted that they might have helped.
"I don't think he really wanted to kill himself," Joe mused. "It was like he wanted someone to tell him he was worth something and that he could have a better life."
"I agree," Mark said. "He was in a very dark place, but he reached out before the darkness overtook him completely. And now with his father dead, I think he has a chance."
Brent came down a few minutes later carrying the cordless phone which belonged in the family room.
"There's a message on here from Merle and one from a Jeff Becker. Both of them want to talk to you guys. You'd better find another handset because this one is running out of juice."
The boys excused themselves, hunting for another phone.
Melba put slices of casserole in the microwave to reheat for Brent and Brock while they went upstairs to finish getting ready for work.
When they came back down to dig into breakfast, Melba said, "I'm taking Jon and Davy to the hospital in half an hour and I can come back for Joe and Mark if they want to see Todd for a bit. Since I have his convertible, I can't legally put them all in there with only two seat belts in the back. I know they're little butts would all fit in that space."
"Take the Highlander," Brent said, getting a set of keys from a hook by the door. "We don't usually drive it to work anyway and there'll be plenty of room for everyone."
"Oh, I hate to drive someone else's vehicle. What if I put a scratch on it?"
"It already has a ding in the driver's door, probably from a shopping cart. Anyway, we believe in using our cars, not worshipping them. I'm sure you'll be fine."
A few minutes after the men had left for work, Davy let Jon and him in the front door with his key.
"Hey, Grandma, we're ready to go," Jon called.
"I'm ready too, but we need to see if Joe and Mark want to go for a while. Could you see if you can move them along if they do?"
Davy and Jon took the stairs two at a time and soon got to their destination. They were greeted by the sounds of giggling emanating from the shower.
"Get your skinny asses dressed if you want to go to the hospital for a while," Davy ordered.
"We're coming!" Joe laughed.
"I'll just bet you are," Jon teased. "Grandma's ready and so are we."
"We'll be with you in a few," Mark chimed in as the two younger boys streaked to Joe's room to get dressed.
True to their word, the boys were dressed and presentable in less than five minutes.
When they got to the hospital, they found Todd in the hall walking with Jim on one side and a nurse on the other. He was a lot steadier on his feet than he had been the day before.
His face lit up when he saw four of his favorite teenagers headed his way.
"What brings you out on this fine day?" he teased. "Do you have a friend in here or is one of you becoming a daddy?"
"Todd Patrick Watson, didn't I teach you better manners than that? The very idea of suggesting one of these precious boys could have been out fathering children!" Melba exclaimed.
"Oh, oh, I'm in trouble," Todd snickered. "When Mom calls me by all three names, that's a bad sign."
"I may have to ground you until you're 30!" Melba shot back.
"Too late, I passed that one some time ago."
"Sh! Don't age your mother," Melba laughed.
"It's good to see all of you," Todd told them. "You lift my spirits."
They stopped to sit down in the lounge area so Todd could rest before going back. He liked it out there better than in his room which was so small he wasn't sure how everyone would fit.
After talking to the nurse, he worked it out that he could stay where he was until someone else came to take him to speech therapy. He tried to convince her that he didn't need it, but she didn't buy his argument. Until he was released by the speech clinician, he would be expected to go.
"I think they're interested in saving their jobs," he complained, after she'd left. "They have all these people and need the insurance money to pay for them."
"I suspect they're covering their butts," Melba said. "The brain needs certain stimulations early in the healing process to be more effective. They've learned that the hard way with stroke victims. They know best. You stick to apprehending the bad guys and let them do their jobs."
"Yes, Mama."
"Mark my words, when he gets better, I'm gonna paddle his bottom!" she laughed.
"Bet he'd like if better if Jim did it," Jon whispered to Davy.
There was a slight interruption when Joe's phone rang. Seeing the number, he motioned to Mark and they moved down the corridor by the elevators. A few minutes later, they returned smiling. It seemed that Jeff had a choice of three different families who had offered to give him a home and one of them had a boy his age who was cute.
Author's notes: Thanks to Ott H, Mendy D, Tony W, Tom A, Bill K, Bill T, JJ, Roger L, Jim W, Paul R, Walt S, Wayne, Daniel L, and Paul F.
Here's a link you might find interesting: http://www.gay.net/movies/2013/10/23/watch-bullied-outsiders-band-together-touching-short-film
David