Guardian Angel by David Lee © 2018
Chapter 1
As he came to, Caleb knew he wasn't dead. If he were, every single cell in his body wouldn't be screaming in pain. The only mitigating factor was the pleasant warmth of the sun on his bruised face.
The crunching of leaves on the ground nearby made him cringe. Perhaps they'd come back.
Looking through the slits of his swollen eyelids, he saw that the sounds were made by Bret, one of the guys who played defense on the football team.
"Did you come to finish me off?" he rasped. "I really don't care anymore. Just try to make it quick. The pain is worse than the thought of dying. Maybe if you stomped my head, I'd pass out again."
"Caleb! Who did this to you?"
"Like you don't know? Didn't your buddies tell you to kick me around if I was still alive? Or are you just here to record my final moments on your phone?"
"Dude, I'm taking a quick photo to show the police!"
"Don't get them involved. If those guys think I ratted on them, my life will be over for sure."
"It's too late; I've already called."
"Help me get up and get away before they get here, then."
"No, you need to lie still," Bret insisted, kneeling and placing his hands firmly on Caleb's shoulders to prevent him from rising. "I've had enough first aid training to know better than to risk further injury by moving you. Otherwise I'd have gone to get my pickup and I'd have driven you to the hospital myself."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because your hurt."
"No, I mean, why would you care about me?"
"You're a classmate, you're on the cheering squad for our team, and you're a good kid. Why wouldn't I care?"
The tears filling Caleb's eyes weren't because of the pain he was in, but that someone was being kind to him.
"I've got cold water in my sports bottle, um, if you don't mind drinking after me," Bret offered.
"Thanks, I could use it."
Bret gently raised Caleb's head enough for him to take a sip. The liquid was like a magical elixir. Caleb could practically feel his body being revived with each drop.
"Thanks!" he said in a stronger voice. "You'll probably have to sterilize your bottle after it's touched the lips of a fag."
Instead of saying anything in reply, Bret raised the bottle to his mouth and took a small sip too. His casual, non-verbal response had a stronger impact than if he'd have made a lengthy speech about tolerance.
"There's plenty more if you're still thirsty."
"Yeah, I am. Thanks!"
Caleb took another healthy swig before they were interrupted by the sirens which announced the arrival of a police car, ambulance, and firetruck. He idly wondered why the latter vehicle was always dispatched for emergencies when nine times out of 10, their services weren't needed.
It was sent back to the station almost immediately, after the officer in charge assessed the situation.
The policeman interviewed Caleb while the EMTs were checking his injuries before loading him on a stretcher.
I'm Sgt. Mark Orr. Can you tell me your name, son?"
"Caleb Barton, Sir."
"Caleb, please tell me exactly what happened."
"I was cutting through the park on the way home from school and I tripped over a tree root up on that hill and tumbled down here. I must have hit some rocks on the way."
"Caleb, it's very clear that you've suffered a savage beating. Are you afraid to talk in front of this other kid?"
"No, he's a good guy. He called you guys, and gave me water."
"I understand your fear of reprisals, but what's been done to you is a serious crime. We have to eradicate this kind of behavior. Do you have any idea why they did this to you?"
"I'm gay. Do they need any other reason?"
"That puts it in the realm of a hate crime. For others like you, as well as yourself, these individuals need to be stopped. None of us will be safe until we end homophobia once and for all."
"They ran before I got here, but I suspect it's part of the football team," Bret spoke up.
"Okay, I'll need your full name and address too."
"Bret Edward Thomas, 486 Dubuque Street. I'm on the team too, and I know a couple of those guys are cruel, viscous morons!"
"Who's your emergency contact, Son," the officer asked Caleb.
"My mom, but she works an hour away. Can't you just take me home and let me rest?"
"No, you have to go to the ER. You need a medical evaluation and treatment. She may have to sign permission forms if you're underage."
"Um, there's a paper at Mercy Hospital that gives permission. She filed it when she took the job in Cedar Rapids, so I'd be covered if she weren't around. Please don't call her until I've been fixed up. I don't want her to worry and get into an accident or something."
"Hmm... I'm not sure how long I can stall that, but I'll try. I don't want to put her in harm's way and I don't want to get sued for withholding information from a parent either!"
"I promise she won't sue. If my phone hasn't been destroyed, I'll text her the minute they're done patching me up."
"I saw a cell in the weeds over there that's probably yours, I'll get it," Bret said, jogging to a spot a few feet away.
"Okay, we're ready to transport," an EMT announced.
"Can I ride with him?" Bret asked. "Someone should be there."
"I can't authorize that," the driver replied. "Sorry!"
"I'll take you," Sgt. Orr offered.
"Thanks. My pickup's at home, a few blocks away. I usually walk in good weather. It seems dumb to train for football and be too lazy to jog a few blocks."
"Well, jump in. I'll put the siren on and follow the ambulance closely, so we don't get held up in traffic."
"Young man, you can't go in with the patient," an ER nurse insisted. "Only family is allowed."
"I'm his cousin," Bret lied. "My aunt's on her way, but I'm supposed to keep an eye on him till she gets here."
"Okay, in that case, I guess I'll allow it."
"Thanks!"
"I'm going in too, so I'll make sure he's not in the way," Officer Orr said.
Once in the examining room, Bret squeezed Caleb's hand for a split second before stepping back to keep from impeding progress.
"Thanks, Cousin Bret," Caleb attempted to smile.
While the doctor and nurses were working on Caleb, the young policeman asked Bret more about his suspicions, and Bret elaborated.
"I'd bet the farm that Matt Owens is behind this. He and Don Harkin are the usual ringleaders when someone's getting bullied. You might want to check their girlfriends' social-media accounts. I doubt either of those guys post, but I'm sure the girls will be touting their `heroic' deeds. There are some other followers you might like to question. They're wusses, and more likely to crack under pressure than those two."
As Bret listed off the lackeys, Sgt. Orr watched Caleb's eyes. They registered recognition and fear with each name called. That was a good indication that those were the culprits.
When Caleb had been poked, prodded, x-rayed and bandaged, the officer left, and Bret insisted that Caleb call his mother.
"Hi Mom."
"Did you mow the lawn, like I asked?"
"No, I never got home; I'm at the hospital. They're gonna keep me overnight for observation, but it's not a big deal. I'll miss school tomorrow, but I don't want you to take time off from work. Here, I'll let Bret tell you."
"Hi, Mrs. Barton. This is Bret. I'm one of his classmates."
"What happened; was he in an accident?"
"He was attacked in the park on the way home from school. He looks kinda rough, but he doesn't have any broken bones and his spleen, kidneys, and everything are okay. The jerks who did this ran when I came their way."
"Oh, my God! Which hospital is he in?"
"Mercy, `cause that's where he said he should go."
"Yes, of course. I'm just about to the off-ramp and I'll be there in a few minutes. Where is he?"
"We're in the elevator on the way up to 3rd floor, but I don't know the room number yet... Okay, the orderly says it's 352 west. We'll see you soon, bye."
"Bye, and thanks!"
"Thanks for talking to her, Bret," Caleb said as he was being settled in his bed. "I hope she won't be upset about the money this is costing. Our insurance is kinda minimal `cause she's part-time, and I suppose this will all come out of our pockets."
"Oh, man, I hope not. There must be some way to get help with the bills."
"I doubt it. Who's gonna create a go-fund-me page for a 16-year old queer?"
"Caleb, take the chip off your shoulder! What's with all this fag' and queer' talk?"
"That's what they kept saying while they were trying to beat me to death. If you hadn't come along, I'll bet I WOULD be dead. Maybe that would be best for everyone."
"Caleb, don't talk that way! You're a smart guy with a great future ahead of you. Haven't you heard that it gets better?"
"Yeah, yeah, I just hope I live long enough to see it."
Their conversation was interrupted when Carol Barton came into the room.
"Oh, Baby, how are you feeling?" she asked, unsuccessfully trying to hide the tears.
Even seasoned nurses can't remain stoic when it's their own kids who've been hurt.
"I'm pretty good, considering. Bret saved me from getting beat up worse, and I shouldn't have any lingering physical effects. The doctor said something about watching for PTSD."
"We'll have to get counseling if necessary. I don't want you suffering more than you have already."
"But that'll cost even more money. I can't imagine what today's bill will be."
"Honey, we'll do whatever we have to. I'm sure there will be some reciprocal arrangements since I'm in the medical profession. If it comes to that, I can ask your grandparents for help."
"You haven't asked why I go beaten up."
"No, I didn't want to bring that up. Is it because you're a cheer leader?"
"That might be part of it, but you know I've been tagged as gay for a long time. You don't have to tiptoe around the subject; Bret knows."
"Oh. Bret, it was very kind of you to intervene. I hope you won't be subject to reprisals for helping Caleb."
"I'm not worried about that. I can take any of them one-on-one."
"I'm sure you can, but bullies don't fight fair. Make sure you're not alone in a place where they could jump you as a group."
"I will, but I have an edge; I'm a blackbelt."
"That's smart. I should enroll Caleb in a dojo."
"That would be even more expense!" Caleb exclaimed.
"I can teach you some basic stuff for self-defense if you want," Bret offered. "It's part of being a blackbelt. And that new young language arts teacher is forming a club that meets after school to learn some karate. We could go together."
"That would be awesome, but I think I'll need to wait a few weeks to heal before I try it."
"I should be going now that your mom's here," Bret said. "I have a little homework left anyway."
"Mom, can you take him home? He rode in the police car, so he'd have to walk or take a bus."
"Yes, I'll do that, and then come right back."
"You don't need to," Bret shook his head.
"Yes, I do! You've gone the second mile for my son, and I need to do this."
"Okay," he yielded.
Caleb felt considerably better when he awoke on Friday morning. The painkillers had given him a few strange dreams, but they weren't nightmares. In one of them, he was babysitting a troop of green monkeys who kept trying to escape up the fireplace chimney while singing a song from a Disney movie, but he woke up briefly before they got away.
In another, he was lying naked in the sun with his head on Bret's lap on a beach. He could feel Brent's flaccid dick against his cheek. That was a dream he'd love to have come true. He figured there would be two chances of its happening - slim and none! Bret was the quintessential macho male. The thought of his having a gay bone in his body was not in the realm of possibility.
Yet, the guy had been gentle and caring. Evidently, someone with that much testosterone could also have a softer side. That still wouldn't make him gay.
After eating a breakfast that tasted surprisingly good, Caleb was suddenly the center of attention. A nurse came in to remove the IV from his arm and another one gave him a sponge bath. He was relieved that she didn't wash his privates, but turned her back and let him do that.
He was barely finished when his mother arrived with clean clothes. He asked her if she could throw away his old, blood-stained ones from yesterday, but she said they might be needed as evidence if the bullies were arrested and brought to trial.
Caleb cringed. He didn't want to face anything like that. He simply wanted it all to go away.
Caleb spent the rest of the day, and the weekend taking it easy, sleeping a lot. By Sunday, he wasn't using anything stronger than Motrin for his pain. Much as those other pills had eased his mind and sent him to la-la land, he didn't want to become dependent on them and end up like his Uncle Ted who had overdosed on Oxycodone. What a waste of beautiful manhood, if he'd looked anything like his pictures.
He had checked his Facebook account on Saturday and discovered there were anonymous posts suggesting that he kill himself to save everyone else the trouble. Those were somewhat dampened by a text from Bret wishing him a speedy recovery, and telling him about the practice before Saturday night's big game. He said that he would miss having Caleb there to cheer him on.
There was a little homework to keep Caleb's mind off other things, and he watched TV for a while before falling asleep in the recliner.
Carol made his favorite meatloaf dinner on Sunday night. It filled the house with an aroma which made his taste buds tingle in anticipation. The doctor had said that he needed to eat well so he could get well. His mother was going to make sure it happened.
Monday morning arrived too soon for Caleb. He'd screwed up his courage and had told his mother that he would go to school regardless of how his day might go, but after she'd left for work, a lot of his bravado seemed to fade away.
He was picking up his backpack, still pondering his options, when someone rapped on the door. There on the back steps stood Bret with a big grin on his face.
"Hey, you're up and dressed, so I don't need to drag your ass out of bed, screaming and kicking."
"Yeah, I'm up and everything, but I'm not exactly raring to go to school. The doctor wrote me an excuse for the whole week, and I'm out of gym for a month. I could just go back to bed."
"You know putting it off for a day would make it even harder."
"Yup," he sighed. "That's why I'm going. What brought you here, by the way?"
"I'm your chauffeur. I'm delivering you door to door this morning, and tonight."
"What about football practice?"
"We get this afternoon off because we scored so well on Saturday night. But on other days, I'll either drop you off before practice, or you can stay and do homework until it's over. I've already arranged for that and Coach is gonna give me a pass if I'm late."
"Wow! Why are you doing this; we've never hung around or anything."
"I've always wanted to, now we have the chance. We might go out to the reservoir yet this fall before it gets too cold. I know a place where we can go skinny dipping and work on an allover tan."
Caleb had a flashback to the dream he'd had about Bret. It made him feel hot! He hoped the bulge in his jeans wouldn't betray him.
Author's notes: There is more to come in Caleb's life. If you liked this chapter, please send a email to dlee169@hotmail.com. That is the reward we get for posting on this free site. Speaking of which, your donations help to keep this site free. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
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Love and Peace,
David