Ring in Mine

By Kim Hansen

Published on Aug 27, 2018

Bisexual

Ring in Mine #3: Nephi & Jerome: Chapter 43

While I wasn't posting, I have been writing. I am catching up on proofreading.

It has been pointed out to me that These characters have taken on a life of their own outside of the Ring in Mine series. I hope you are enjoying reading the story as much as I am enjoying writing it. I am not quite sure what this mob is going to do next.

Even though the labor is donated, operating a site like Nifty.Org isn't an inexpensive proposition. If you can, consider donating, even a little bit helps. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Thank you for your emails. I appreciate hearing from my readers.

Thanks Zach for your editing skills. Here is Chapter 43

----------- Chapter 43

"How did you survive your first morning in Little Italy?" Phil asked as he drove Oliver to school. Nephi would drive Eve to school. He had some of unfinished business with the administration.

"What's with the foreign language?" Oliver asked. Phil explained the language project for the home school students.

"Thanks for the loan of the polo shirt."

"No problems. I thought you might like something special to wear to school." Phil answered. "This afternoon we go shopping!"

"I have no money." Oliver didn't understand how he could go shopping.

"It's not high end but you have a hundred-dollar gift card for Kmart." Phil explained. Oliver just shook his head. How could strangers care more than family?

Jerome met them at the front doors of the school. "Phil left earlier than expected this morning. Oliver and I need to talk. Phil, Oliver will see you at lunch."

Phil gave Oliver a brother hug. "No worries, bro."

Jerome and Oliver sat on a bench in front of the school. "Oliver, what do you think of Samaria? Could you call it home?"

Oliver sat staring into the distance.

"There are other options available. You could drop out of school and get a job. DFS could find you a foster home. Nephi and I think the best solution is to join us at Samaria." Jerome waited for an answer.

Oliver had noticed Jerome limped when no one was looking. Jerome appeared to be older than Nephi. There were full adults at Samaria, but these two gay guys ran the place. Was all this `Go forth and do good' real, or just an act?

Could he live where they had gospel lessons at dinner and prayed as a family? Then he thought of a scripture from when his parents still took the effort to take him to Sunday School.

"Oliver, what are you thinking?"

"I was hungry, and you fed me. I was naked, and you clothed me. I was homeless, and you welcomed me into your home. Do you believe all this go forth and do good stuff?" Oliver looked hopeful as he waited for the answer.

"Yes, we believe in all that stuff. We cannot help everyone, but we can help you." Oliver interrupted Jerome with a spontaneous hug.

"I was so worried I wouldn't be able to finish high school. Now I don't have to worry until next year." Oliver's smile told the story.

"You don't have to worry about next year either. They have frozen the assets from the sale of your parent's house. The lawyers are sure they can get a part of those funds to create a college fund for you." Jerome explained. "To keep DFS out of your life, are you willing to let the Foundation act as your guardians?"

Oliver didn't hesitate. "Yes!"

"Then let's deliver the paperwork. The judge will want to talk with you sometime this week." Oliver followed Jerome into the school office.

Jerome presented his card.

Jerome of Samaria

Samaria Foundation

It looked professional with the Logo and all the important information on the front. She turned the card over.

Samaritans, Go Forth and Do Good,

if you have done unto to the least of these

"I have an appointment with your registration clerk." Papers changed hands. The first sheet was a letter from the school district superintendent acknowledging the Foundation and encouraging the school staff's cooperation. Jerome handed the clerk the rest of the notarized papers. Waiting for the courier explained Jerome's tardiness.

"Mr. Stevenson do you have a moment?" The clerk summoned a gentleman from the hallway. "I would like you to meet Mr. Samaria. He is a director of the Samaria Foundation. This is Mr. Stevenson, the principal of our school."

"Call me Jerome. I followed the example of our director, Nephi. After his family disowned him, he dropped his surname. My father left me in the hills to die during a blizzard. I was the first saved by Nephi of Samaria." Jerome offered his hand. "We are both looking forward to working with you? The paperwork for our newest resident has photos of those who may represent the Foundation, just like the paperwork filed for all of our students.

"We look forward to working with you." Mr. Stevenson answered.

"It will take until next week but the staff members will have photo identification issued by the Samaria Foundation. We don't want a recurrence of yesterday's fiasco. If any of our students are having problems please call us. They are all going through traumatic times in their lives. We want school to one of their safe places."


Mr. Stevenson had been part of an impromptu administrators meeting at the district office involving the three principals of the schools that had Samaria kids as students. The President of the School Board had taken his phone off the hook to end the calls.

"This is a media nightmare. The Foundation lawyers had all the proper paperwork filed with the schools. They even have receipts for the paperwork. They did everything right. We dropped the ball." The superintendent looked at Principal Gallagher.

"We can't give in to every group that involves the media. The guy is in his twenties. He could have been anybody. He should have left when I asked." Principal Gallagher had taken his phone off the hook early in the evening.

"The Samaria Foundation didn't notify the news. You have students studying journalism. They had the photos and the story. We don't know which student called the newsroom and we will not try to determine who it was." The district lawyer had convinced the School Board to accept the terms proposed by the Foundation lawyers. It was bad enough the wire services had picked up the story. They didn't need a lawsuit.

The superintendent continued. "The more far-reaching aspect of this situation is the allegations of teacher and administration supported bullying in our schools, by some members of the student leaders, cheerleading squads and sports teams."

"These are the leaders of our schools. They need our support." Principal Gallagher wasn't smart enough to realize it was the time to say `yes sir.'

"Principal Gallagher, you were the quarterback in Junior High and High school. You treated other students as inferior and made them targets of derision and physical torment." The district lawyer pointed out.

"I treated everybody fairly." The principal retorted.

"Do you remember Trash Can Tommy? I remember I wasn't the only one you took lunch money from and if they had none, it was in the dumpster." The lawyer Thomas Baker reminded him. "At least one reporter is combing the yearbook. If they called me, they are calling others from our class." Principal Gallagher's face paled.

"The Samaria Foundation has supporters in high places. The President of the State School Board put a task-force together last spring to look into what the Governor is calling `The bullying crisis in our schools.' We have drawn attention to us rather than the west side of Salt Lake. You will get your staff members on-board." The Superintendent had one final comment. "There will be no repercussions. Treat the Foundation kids like everyone else."


Principal Stevenson sat behind his desk pondering the morning meeting and his encounter with the Samaria Director. Jerome struck him as professional and concerned for his kids. Maybe it was time leave his office and walk the hallways. He had left discipline up to one of his assistant principals.

Eve held Nephi's chair as he transferred from the driver's seat. One of the family lawyers pushed the chair into the district offices. They faced the local school board president, superintendent, and Thomas Baker, attorney of law.

"We are waiting for one more." Nephi announced.

A distinguished gentleman entered and walked over to Nephi's side. He knelt down and gave Nephi a warm handshake eye to eye with Nephi. "I know I'm not who you were expecting. The Governor insisted I not send an underling. How are you feeling after yesterday?"

"I am sore in all new spots, but I will survive. What other options are there?" Nephi answered.

"Have you found a new venue for Kazoo Days?" The conversation continued.

"We thought about the compound but we have kids in witness protection. The Governor suggested the Capital, but the parking is bad and a little too stuffy. I tried the Salt Palace, and it's too expensive. If we have to we can hold it in a tent again." Nephi explained.

"East High has offered their gym and auditorium for the cost of security. Chief Thompson offered to provide security." The Gentleman suggested.

Realizing his rudeness, Nephi apologized and introduced the Lieutenant Governor.

"I'm here representing the Governor. He wants reassurance this is being handled in a fair and timely manner." He sat at the end of the table.

By the end of the meeting the Superintendent reinstated Eve as a student in good standing. Since providing Principal Gallagher with a copy of the guardianship papers didn't seem to be enough proof, Nephi explained that Foundation staff would carry photo identification provided by the Foundation when dealing with the schools.

"Superintendent, we are having a problem at the junior high school. It's on the news again." She pushed the TV remote.

Standing at the top of the stairs stood a group of students. One young man had a bullhorn.

"This is our school as much as it is theirs. They are maybe fifty students. We are seven hundred. They can only push us around if we let them. Is it embarrassing when they humiliate us? Yes! We need to stick together. If we can't depend on the administration to treat us fairly, we will take this to the media. My dad went to school with our principal. He says he was one of the privileged elites, taking lunch money and tormenting students."

The speech ended when the police officer assigned to the school yanked the bullhorn from the student and dragged him into the school. "This is the way they treat free speech in our schools." The door closed cutting off the student's speech.

Principal Gallagher grabbed the bullhorn. I will expel "Anyone not in their homeroom in five minutes."

"He can't expel all of us. If we want the school to change, we have to demand change." The vocal young lady sat on the steps. Some students left for class. Most sat on the steps or front lawn.

"How will we deal with this?" The School Board president wasn't happy. Eve leaned over and whispered into Nephi's ear.

Nephi nodded. "It would diffuse the tension." Nephi turned to the superintendent. "You deal with Principal Gallagher. Eve will handle the students."

Nephi parked right in front of the school in the bus loading zone. The students parted like the Red Sea letting their Joan of Arc to the front steps.

Nephi handed Eve the bullhorn he had borrowed from the District. "We made the wire services. The whole country knows our story. I spent the morning with representatives of the school board, district and even the Governor's office. A task-force on bullying will visit our school. Explain what we struggle with every day." Eve waited while the students cheered. "Now, let's go back to class. Our best defense against tyrannical behavior is knowledge."

"They locked the doors!" A student shouted. Nephi handed Eve a key. She opened one of the front doors. Students held the other doors open.

Soon Eve and Nephi were the only ones on the front steps. "Eve, when did you get so smart?" Nephi asked.

"Aunt Margaret and I had a phone conversation last night. You have your people and I have mine." Eve laughed as she left for class.

The media was filming from the street. Principal Gallagher had refused them access to school property. Nephi passed his car and approached the media.

"I will not answer questions. Is that understood?" Nephi soon had five microphones thrust towards him one from each local TV station and two radio stations.

"The Samaria Foundation's name comes from the New Testament. We have printed our motto, `Go forth and do good.' over the gate at home. It is there to remind us of our mission, to be like the Good Samaritan."

"We are looking forward to a great relationship with the schools our kids attend. The district administration has committed resources to end bullying in our schools. You may remember the Kazoo Days event last year. The Foundation grew out of the principles promoted by that event. Kazoo Day needs sponsors and a new venue. Thank you for your time."

"What about yesterday?" "Is it true you aren't suing the district?"

"Is it true you and the other director are lovers?" "Do you regret taking the bullet meant for one of your kids?"

The barrage of questions continued. Nephi shook his head. He tried to turn his chair but reporters blocked him in.

"What part of I will not answer questions is so hard to understand. My four-year-old son could work that one out." Nephi was trying to stay calm. His chair moved backward.

"Nephi, it's time to leave for therapy." Adam, in his uniform, turned to the reporters. "Sorry folks. If the doctors had their way Nephi would stay at the compound and recover. When his kids need him, he will do whatever it takes."

As Adam helped Nephi into his police cruiser, he explained that Clarke had driven Nephi's car home. "When we saw you and Eve on the morning news, Sariah suggested we stop by just in case."

"Remind me to thank her when we get home." Nephi stared into the distance during the ten-minute drive home. Adam assisted Nephi into the main house and into his recliner.

"I'll get you a drink." Adam offered. He sat it on the table next to the slumbering young man.

Nephi woke to find a pair of eyes staring at him. "Daddy, you're awake. Donny and Micah don't want to play. Will you read me a story?"

Jerry didn't wait for an answer. He sat a stack of books next to Nephi and climbed onto his lap. Nephi opened the top book.

"I don't think I know these words. Can you help me?" Nephi asked.

Jerry pointed at the words in the title. "The Cat in the Hat."

When the cat appeared in the story, Jerry asked for funny voices. Mary went looking for her missing student. Jerry was reading "The Foot Book" with a little help from his dad. It was the happiest and most relaxed she had seen Nephi since the shooting. She left father and son to enjoy the afternoon together.

When she checked later, father and son were sleeping. Nephi's arms cradled his little boy. Jerry's head lay upon Nephi's chest. Mary retrieved her camera from the classroom and snapped a picture or two.

Nephi chose not to disturb Jerry. He felt Jerry's steady breathing as he pondered the possibilities of having his own biological child. Would he want a girl or a boy? The chime of the phone announcing afternoon chores woke Nephi's reading buddy.

Dinner was a time of shared experiences. "I'm glad I was with Nephi this morning. Someone filled Stephanie's locker with wet diapers and paper bags with faces drawn on them." Eve shared the morning events.

"Why paper bags?" Oliver braved a question.

"She might be more loveable if you didn't have to look at her ugly face!" Phil gave his sister-in-law a high five.

"The other cheerleaders found notes on their lockers. `Are you part of the solution or the problem?' There are diapers available if you need them. Principal Gallagher tried to pin it on me. He was furious when I reminded him I was at the district office." A wicked smile dominated Eve's face. "I think the rebellion has begun."

Nephi didn't look happy. "I hope you had nothing to do with it."

"Lighten up, Nephi she deserves a little of what she gives others." Jared answered.

The family echoed Jared's opinion. Nephi's disappointed silence put a damper on the conversation. Nephi excused himself before dessert. Jerry followed his dad. Jerome was at his one evening class.

"Let's go for a ride!" Nephi asked.

Jerry's answer was to head for the garage. Jerry punched in the code.

"How do you remember the code?" Nephi asked.

"It's easy. 6 plus 7 is 13." Jerry amazed his daddy.


Back at the table they were trying to figure out what was bothering Nephi. Many of the comments weren't positive. Kenton listened without speaking. He had the answer during dinner. Kenton had heard enough.

"We should concentrate on solving the problem?" Kenton stood. "Switching targets doesn't solve the problem of bullying. That's how Hitler became powerful. I read a book about it for class. He united the German people against a common enemy. In your case the new enemy is Stephanie. Everyone even the adults have forgotten the motto over the gate."

Kenton picked up his dessert. "I will leave you to think about it."


"Dad, can we go to Uncle Bertram's?" Jerry asked. Nephi hadn't been there since he fiasco with Kenton.

Nephi checked his watch and picked up the mic on the citizen band radio. Benny had insisted all the Foundation vehicles have them to keep in touch. "Brother of Jared, are your ears on? Over."

"Why did you say over?" Jerry asked.

"It means I'm done talking." Nephi answered.

"Slayer of Laban, I'm leaving campus. What's going on? Over."

"That's daddy!" Jerry squealed. Nephi handed Jerry the mic. "Push the button on the side."

"Jared's brother, we are going to Bertram's. Do you want to come? Over." Jerry released the button.

"What's your handle? Over." Jerome asked.

Jerry looked at Nephi. "What do you want your radio name to be?"

Jerry thought for a minute. Jerry remembered something Micah had said. He pushed the button. "This is Lucky Boy. Over."

"Why Lucky Boy?" Jerome asked. Jerry waited.

"Dad, you didn't say over!" Jerry reprimanded.

"Sorry Lucky Boy. Over."

"I'm a lucky boy because I have two dads that love me. Over." Jerry answered smiling.

"Lucky Boy, I will meet you at Bertram's. Over and out." Jerry handed Nephi the microphone.

"Daddy, why do they call you Slayer of La..." Jerry paused.

"Nephi is a prophet from the Book of Mormon. Sometimes we talk about it in church. Heavenly Father told Nephi to cut the head off of a terrible guy named Laban." Nephi explained. "Another prophet from the Book of Mormon is the brother of Jared. We don't know his name. The scriptures call him the Brother of Jared."

"Prophets talk to God. Do you and daddy talk with God?" Jerry asked.

"Even you talk with God, when you say your prayers. The trick with prophets is God talks back." Nephi must not have answered Jerry's question.

"Does God talk back to you?" Jerry asked again.

"I'm not sure. He doesn't send me angels and I don't hear his voice, but there are times I think I know what he wants me to do." Nephi ended. He thought back to times maybe God had sent an angel.

Jerry had a lot to think about. "Would my Daddy cut a bad guy's head off?"

Nephi realized his lack of planning as they pulled into the handicapped spot in front of the bakery. His chair was back at the house. What he had were the hated crutches. Nephi turned in the seat Jerry retrieved the crutches out of the back seat.

With his four-year-old's help he slid his arms through the steel cuffs and grabbed the handles. Place the crutches, swing the bad leg, follow with the good leg repeat. Jerry closed the car door.

Jerry struggled with the door. Nephi wasn't any help. A young high school aged guy in a Bertram apron sat with a table of kids the same age. He looked up as the door chimed. He made no move to help the child and handicapped person past the obstacle of the door.

Nephi arrived at the counter. "We're closed!"

Nephi checked the clock on the wall. "According to the door, you are open for another forty-five minutes. We want three Mega Deluxe Brownie Sundaes."

"I said we are closed. There is no Mega Deluxe Brownie Sundae on the menu." Nephi had interrupted the boy's conversation with his friends.

"Are you sure about that?" Nephi asked.

"I work here you don't. We are closed. Go away." The kid was belligerent.

One of his friends stood up. "Maybe you need help to find the door!"

Nephi lost patience with the poor service. He stepped into the back.

"Hey that's for employees only!" The boy moved to stop Nephi. Nephi leaned against the wall and pulled his apron over his head. The bright shiny assistant manager badge caught the light.

"Shit!"

"That's about right. Let's look at the register and the evening's tickets." Nephi announced. He struggled to the register. Turning the small register key on his ring Nephi accessed the journal tape in the register. Before computers registers kept a copy of each sale printed on an internal tape.

"Where is the ticket for the food on your friend's table?" Nephi asked. The young man's friends had departed leaving him to face the music on his own.

Nephi let the question hang in the silence. Then he asked another. "Who trained you?"

"My mom did before she died." The boy got a little teary.

"So, you are Bella's little brother. That explains a lot." Nephi thought about the conversation at dinner. Did he want revenge or solve the problem? "This time I will not call either Bella or Bertram, but I am showing you the book." Nephi pulled the Bertram Bible out from under the counter It contained all of Bertram's creations and a few of Nephi's.

Jerome entered the bakery. Jerry was busy putting toppings on his brownie sundae. Nephi was leaning against the wall supported by his good leg and the crutches coaching Brock, Bella's brother through his current customer.

"Check the book. That's what it should look like. Always ask about the nuts. Food allergies may be fatal."

"I want something special for my date and I to share. She agreed to marry me." The young man at the counter asked.

"Do you like chocolate and cherries?" Nephi asked. "I have the perfect celebration dessert to share."

Nephi focused on Brock. "Ring in the Liahona."

"What's a Liahona." The young man asked.

"It's the compass from the Book of Mormon that Nephi used to find his way across the ocean. It should lead you into your new life." Nephi answered.

Brock followed the instructions in the book. Nephi helped Brock locate the ingredients. Brock enjoyed building the special desserts. They took time, but they were works of art.

"Put the hard sauce on the top. Light the hard sauce with the lighter and flip the switch on the wall." Nephi instructed.

Brock carried the flaming dessert to the special couple in the dim light. The customers in the bakery clapped.

"Now my partner will take two mega supreme brownie sundaes." Nephi requested.

Brock pulled out the dishes to begin. "Don't forget to write the ticket and ring it in." Nephi reminded him.

"But you're a manager!" Brock replied.

"Then I should pay. We set an example for those around us." Jerome retrieved Nephi's wallet from his pocket and placed the money on the counter. It included a tip. The last three customers had tipped him. With his previous level of service, tips were uncommon.

Jerome slid Nephi's apron over Nephi's head and carried it back to the row of hooks in the kitchen. He returned to find Nephi standing at the table not sure how to sit in the chair. Nephi transferred his support from the crutches to Jerome's offered arm and sat down just a little harder than expected. Bertram walked through the front door as Brock was delivering Nephi's order.

"Uncle Bertram!" Jerry cried. "I got to put my own sprinkles on my brownie."

Bertram surveyed Jerry's bowl of toppings with a brownie and ice cream somewhere underneath. Bertram got down on one knee and hugged Nephi. "It looks like you have taken care of my problem."

Jerome stood to hug his uncle. The warm welcome surprised Brock. Bertram looked around the bakery. Everything looks delicious. Bertram gave Brock a hug. "Great job."

Brock's lips crept into a smile. He hadn't received a lot of affection from his mom, nor compliments from his uncle.


Jerome helped an exhausted and sore Nephi into bed. "You do good work, my handsome Samaritan." Snuggling up to his man Jerome realized Nephi was sound asleep.

Next: Chapter 115: Nephi and Jerome 44


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