Ring in Mine
Kim Terry
John and Mark begin to pick up the pieces of two shattered lives.
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My thanks go out to Zack for proofreading this chapter.
Kim ----------
Ring in Mine: John Chapter 14
Mark drove to his house. It was time to take his son to the hospital. He should have done that yesterday. Trevor was following not far behind. Trevor had a couple of loose ends to tie up before he left the police station. Mark arrived home to find strange cars parked around his house.
`What had Ruth done? Hadn't she trusted him to do the right thing, eventually?' Mark was already on the edge. The original plan was to wait for Trevor to arrive. Mark grew angry. He walked into John's bedroom to find two strangers, a man and a woman, with his wife and son.
"Get out of my house!" Mark demanded. He would later feel remorse about hitting his wife for the first time in their marriage, knocking her to the floor, but now he felt justified.
John was shouting making things worse. Mark didn't act; he reacted without thinking just as his father had done with him. His belt swung toward his son and the man stepped in the way. Mark soon found himself in handcuffs and being loaded into an unmarked police car. How was he to know that the man was an FBI agent? Is that the first assumption you would make finding a stranger in your house?
Trevor arrived just in time to see Mark being driven away in a police car and another car heading the opposite direction. Trevor introduced himself as Mark's lawyer. Trevor talked with the DFS case worked helping John and Ruth into her car. Trevor explained that Mark had spent the morning at the police station telling them everything he knew about the people who had done this to his son.
"Ruth, Mark has asked a therapist that has extensive experience and training in helping young men that someone has tried to cure. I will have him meet you at the hospital." Trevor explained. An unsure look crossed Ruth's face. "Mark said you knew and liked Bob."
The semi-panic look was replaced with a look of relief. "Does Bob really know how to help?" Ruth knew Bob as Mark's therapist from college. She had met with him more than once. A person that was as comfortable being gay as Bob was wouldn't be trying to `cure' her son.
"He has helped more than a dozen men put their lives back together after some bible thumping holier-than-thou ..." Trevor decided to stop before he got too carried away. "He can also fill you in on Mark. Mark is really is torn up about all of this. He hates acting like his dad."
"I will look for Bob. We will be in the emergency room." Ruth seemed almost relieved that Mark had tried to do the right thing. She was pleased that Bob would be there to help John.
Trevor finally caught up with Mark at the police station. They had him parked in an interrogation room. Trevor talked with the two officers that brought him in.
"We are not quite sure what to do with him. It was so important that we bring him in but we don't know with what to charge him. He told us he was swinging the belt to hit his son and the agent stepped in the way." The taller officer explained.
"The high and mighty passed him to us muttering, `The damn kid doesn't remember a thing. These asshole aren't going to cost me this promotion.' Talk about an asshole."
"I do have one question to ask?" Trevor began. "Did you read Mark his rights? The woman from DFS verified that Agent Moore didn't. SO you can't use Mark's comment with the belt anyway. His boy is at the hospital. Coach Litchfield needs to be there for his wife and son. You know where to find him when the FBI gets around to the paperwork."
Mark and Trevor found Ruth, Bob and the lady from DFS waiting in the emergency waiting room.
Mark had not been sure what type of reception he would receive. Ruth hugged her husband.
"Bill told me you went to the police and was coming home to take John to the hospital." Ruth started.
"I am so sorry I hit you and John." Ruth put her finger to Mark's lips.
"We will talk later! Right now you and I need to be here for John." Ruth explained.
"I am here too!" Grandma Litchfield called out.
Mark looked at the floor embarrassed. "I called mom. If anyone can keep me from losing it again she can."
Frank, Brent's law partner had arrived with Grandma Litchfield. "I'm sorry that Brent can't be here. He's dealing with a problem in Salt Lake with his nephews. I am here to represent John's interests."
Bob introduced Frank to the DFS representative.
The doctor finally appeared. "I need to talk with John's parents."
"I think everyone here needs to hear this at the same time." Ruth suggested.
After everyone had been introduced the doctor proceeded to explain that John's injuries would need to be reported to the police.
"That's why I am here." The DFS lady explained her role and that most of the injuries occurred during aversion therapy gone wrong.
"This poor kid has been drugged with who knows what. There are numerous needle marks on his arms. He has been raped numerous times. The damage is going to be more emotional than physical. There are signs of electroshock therapy. The worst physical damage is to his testicles. One has been damaged beyond repair. It will be best to remove it before it causes an infection."
"What about the strap marks from the beating?" The DFS lady asked.
"They are superficial and are already fading." The doctor reassured them. "We will have a procedure room available in a few minutes. John is pretty much out of it. Why don't you go in and see him." The DFS lady insisted being present if Mark was going to be near his son.
A nurse had just finished shaving John's cherished pubic hairs in preparation for the surgery. Mark knew John wouldn't be happy about that. There was a rocking recliner by the gurney/bed. Being careful of the IV, Mark picked up his son and sat in the chair rocking his son crying. Ruth put her hand on her husband's shoulder.
"Will he ever forgive me?" Mark asked his wife.
"Dad, I love you." John said groggily as he snuggled up closer.
Before Ruth could answer they came for John. Mark carefully returned him to the gurney and they rolled his son away.
Bob pulled the distraught parents into a consultation room. He outlined the first steps toward John's recovery. It was going to involve therapy, some heavy-duty anti-anxiety meds and comforting non-threatening touching.
"He needs the meds to keep him calm. We need to reintroduce John to the reassurance of physical contact, much like what Mark did instinctively in there." Bob explained. He is also going to visit with me a couple times a week. He will not be returning to school until he is ready.
Bob left the couple talking quietly. He needed to run interference with DFS and John's lawyer. When the doctor returned with the news of John's successful procedure Bob and Trevor had succeeded in convincing DFS and Frank that Mark was not the main villain in this situation.
"Mark has anger issues and he will be meeting with me to learn better ways to respond to stress than lashing out." Bob explained.
The DFS representative decided to take a wait and see approach. She had the hospital send any applicable evidence that might convict the men that tortured this boy to the police.
Ruth and Mark sat with their son in recovery. The nurse delivered three bottles of pills from the hospital pharmacy. One was an antibiotic. One was an anti-depressant and the last was for anxiety. She explained carefully when John needed to take which pill.
"Mark, neither of us can take much time off work. What are we going to do?" Ruth asked.
The answer came from the woman standing in the doorway. "That's why there is a suitcase in the backseat of my car." Grandma Litchfield announced. Mark was afraid that John may gain thirty pounds if Grandma watched John during the day. She firmly believed in the recuperative properties of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. Forget John, Mark would probably put on fifty pounds.
Because of the drug cocktail already in John's system they had performed the surgery under local anesthetic. When they were sure there wouldn't be an adverse reaction, John was prepared to go home.
Bob met the threesome at the door, handing Mark another bottle of pills.
"The nurse already brought us John's pills." Mark explained.
"These are for you. You are going to take one every morning until they are gone. They will help you keep calm. DFS is just waiting for another outburst. If you hurt John in anger again they will swoop in like vultures on a kill." Bob countered.
Neither Ruth nor Mark had a car at the hospital. John rode shotgun with Grandma Litchfield. His parents rode in the back seat.
In the early evening John finally became aware of where he was. John had no idea why he was in his dad's chair with a bag of peas on his crotch. He was becoming just a little concerned that he kept waking up places without knowing how he got there. Mark never let anyone sit in his chair. When he tried to move he learned why there was a cold pack on his crotch. It hurt down there. He settled back and found the remote in the pocket of dad's chair. John realized he was hungry and something smelled good.
John turned the TV on and Grandma had a plate of cookies and a glass of milk next to John in a heartbeat.
"Your mom said I am not to spoil your dinner, so there are only four cookies on the plate." Grandma announced.
She helped John to the restroom and then back to his dad's chair providing a new bag of frozen peas.
Nothing on TV was interesting. John asked for his sketchpad. He still wasn't thinking too clearly. He just began doodling not really paying attention to the page. He had done this before. Sometimes he would step outside of everyone else's reality when he drew.
Back in the real world he looked at the pad before him and began shaking. Grandma heard the notepad hit the floor.
"Bob I think you are needed in the living room!" Grandma called out.
Bob appeared with a kitchen chair in hand.
"John it's normal to be afraid. Things are happening around you and you don't know why. Am I right?" Bob sat close but not threateningly so.
"Am I going crazy? I am drawing things I don't remember." John sobbed.
Bob picked up the pad looking and glanced at the image on the page. Three young men sat naked on straight back chairs. Duct tape held them securely around their wrists and ankles. A final piece of gray tape wound around their heads. They looked ready for execution in electric chairs. Their bodies were dirty and showed signs of fatigue and hopelessness. A single muscular man stood behind the victims; his face hidden under a black hood.
"What do remember about the last few days?" Bob asked.
"I remember dad picking me up from school yesterday. I must have been in an accident I am sore all over, especially down there." John's eyes looked at the bag of peas.
"Do you remember earlier today?" Bob asked.
"I sort of remember being in the hospital. My dad held me. I remember saying I loved him." John paused. He sniffed the air. "Grandma must be here do you think I could have one of the cookies I smell?"
Bob looked at the plate of crumbs on the table next to John. Rather than upset his patient, Bob returned with a cookie.
"Only one?" John asked innocently.
John heard grandma from the kitchen announce there would be more cookies after dinner.
Grandma brought John a plate of her special spaghetti on a tray. Eating in front of the TV was something only allowed when the parents weren't home. John took the pill his mom brought him. She handed John his pad. John stared at the blank top sheet puzzled. Hadn't he drawn something earlier? He put the pad aside and watched the sitcom on television.
Mark brought out a replacement bag of peas only to find his boy asleep. He leaned the recliner back lifting the footrest, spreading his cuddly blanket over him. As a second thought Mark retrieved the battered bear and wrapped John's arm around it.
In the kitchen the adults talked quietly. They agreed John should stay home from school until he was healed and he quit forgetting from day to day.
"Don't discourage John's drawing his dreams. Don't destroy them, but don't leave them around for him to fixate on. We just need to be patient."
They left John sleeping on the recliner with a dim light shining.
John woke from a disturbing dream to find himself in his father's chair. He climbed out of the chair, he never could get the knack of releasing the foot rest. His balls ached. He took care of his needs in the bathroom. All of his pubic hair was gone. There were stitches in his scrotum.
Back in his room he began to draw. The image may explain why his balls hurt. The boy bent over the table and tied wasn't him. He didn't recognize the blond young woman with the nasty looking clamp in her hands. He was grateful that he had no memories beyond the image; the picture was bad enough.
He retrieved his blanket and teddy. He tried to fall asleep in his bed. Taking only his teddy he retreated to his parent's room; no one could hurt him here. It was painful climbing over his dad. Mark woke just enough to pull back the covers letting his precious son crawl between his parents.
John woke during the night. At first he panicked. Where was he? The room was filled with the soft golden glow of a salt lamp. A soft rumble came from the body behind him. The boy snuggled back into his father's chest much like the boy clutched the teddy to his. John closed his eyes the dream that disturbed his slumber forgotten.
John woke to find himself alone in his parent's king size bed. He remembered having a dream and crawling in bed with his parents. An image from a later dream kept haunting him. He crawled out of bed and found his pad.
Before long a college aged boy was reaching out to what looked like his twin brother taped to a chair. A spark jumping from the reaching finger to the nipple of the bound figure. The pair of faces twisted in agony. It was sort of sick but compelling.
The smell of his grandmother's cooking coaxed him out of his room. As he entered his grandmother opened her arms for a hug and John pulled back. He saw the look of sadness sweep across her face at the obvious rejection. With firm resolve he stepped toward his grandmother and wrapped his arms around her. Even though he was shivering he refused to let go. Feeling his stress she tried to step away; he clung to her even tighter.
Finally the warm glow of her love won out and his body relaxed. Feeling this she tentatively returned the hug. John snuggled even close, his head pressed against her ample bosom. The oven timer rang.
"The biscuits are done. Let's sit down to breakfast before everything is cold." His grandmother suggested.
Sausage, eggs and grandma's fresh biscuits with gravy were a treat he didn't get very often. John accepted his grandmother's explanation of recuperating from surgery as the reason she was there.
"What happened down there?" John looked toward his lap.
Grandma Litchfield explained that one of his testicles had been injured and they had to fix things. An image came to mind of the crazed woman and the big silver clamp. He didn't care that his grandmother was sitting right there. He reached into the basketball shorts he was wearing and checked. It was with a sigh of relief he could feel both balls right where they belonged. One seemed a little bigger than he remembered but it was probably just swollen like everything else down there. His grandmother knew what he was checking and decided against telling him one was a prosthetic.
After breakfast and pills John returned to his room. He put a large sheet on his work surface and closed his eyes. The image was still there in great detail. He once again drew the young man taped bent over a heavy table. This time he noticed this was one of the twins from his shocking picture. John went into that other place where his best work was done.
Grandmother Litchfield had never seen her grandson like this before. It was more than a little frightening.
"Ruth, John is painting and he didn't even notice when I came in and made the bed. Should I be worried?" She asked over the phone.
"Just leave him alone. He gets like this when he does his best work. John won't appreciate being disturbed." Ruth reassured the older woman. Things couldn't be that bad if John was back to his art. Ruth had noticed her son worked through a lot of his problems in front of his easel.
The piece was in sepia tones except for the crazy lady who was in full color. The clamp applied to the young man's scrotum was done in a silver metallic acrylic. It caught your eye immediately. You had to force yourself to look elsewhere.
He left the image to dry and went looking for some lunch. It was late afternoon. He found his grandmother starting dinner. John looked at this dear woman that loved him. He gritted his teeth and gave her a hug. It was easier than before. He didn't even flinch when she returned the hug. She retrieved a sandwich from the fridge and served it with a glass of milk and cookies.
John helped set the table. He thought it odd that there were five places set. He wondered who their guest would be.
At dinner John was introduced to Doctor Bob. Bob extended his hand and John pulled back. He remembered Bob from the previous night so he must be safe. The interplay of emotions on John's face as he took Bob's hand and shook it was not lost on the therapist. Bob wasn't sure he would have had the strength to do it.
After dinner the family retired to the family room. Bob was in his dad's recliner. Grandma was in his mom's. John was sandwiched between his parents on the huge couch. It was a little close but when his dad pulled out an unfamiliar photo album he understood why they were seated like this.
"John, before I can explain something I need to share a story with you."
"Growing up there were three best friends. Their parents were friends so they were thrown together quite young."
There was a photo of three infants sleeping side by side in a crib. Mark identified Ruth, himself and Marcus. Mark used the photo album to tell the stories of growing up together. Often the antics of the three filled the room with laughter. Some of the stories Grandma Litchfield hadn't heard before
There was a picture of the three of them in high school swimming at Great Grandpa Litchfield's farm. It was the pond he used for irrigation. Ruth told about later in the week when they returned to the pond and skinny-dipped.
John looked at the photo of them swimming imagining how they looked skinny dipping.
The stories continued with Marcus and Mark sharing a room at the college. Mark told of how proud Ruth and he were when Marcus would win medals for his gymnastics. There were photos of Marcus on the podium and a photo with Marcus in the middle of his two closest friends.
"John, I am embarrassed about the next story I am going to tell. Not because of what I did back then, but for what I've done to you over the years." Mark prefaced his experiences with Marcus. He told of moving beyond friendship to some type of love and the physical expression of that love. He didn't go into all the intimate details.
Mark couldn't control the tears, when he came to the last story. Bob stepped in.
"John, the last story is why your dad has treated you the way he has. I was the therapist that helped Mark put his life back together."
Bob told the story of Marcus being kidnapped, tortured and left to die in the forest, simply because he was gay. He told how Mark lived in fear that someone would learn his secret and he would be next.
"Your dad's real fear is that if you were gay, what had happened to Marcus could happen to you. When he saw you as a gymnast, the image of Marcus in the forest would come to mind." Bob paused. "It wasn't you he was angry with it was Marcus for getting killed and himself for not protecting his friend."
"Mark came home early only to find Andrew in your room naked. He used his past as a ruler and jumped to the wrong conclusion." Bob handed John a copy of the brochure. "That is where your dad thought he was sending you."
Mark sobbed. "I just wanted you to be free of the shadows that haunt me. I didn't protect you; I gave you to men that did awful things to you."
He leaned into his dad and gave him a hug. "Dad things are going to work out just fine."
Bob talked to John privately at length. "I would like my drawings back. They are important. I don't know why but they are."
It wasn't long after taking his bedtime pills that john's eyes wouldn't stay open. His mom tucked him into his bed. When she bent down to kiss his forehead panic started building. John pulled away. He could see the hurt look on his mom's face. John got out of bed on the side away from his mom.
"Sorry mom, Bob says that is going to happen now and then." John walked around the bed. He held out his arms. Ruth stepped into the offered hug. "I love you mom. Just be patient I will get there."
He climbed into bed and started looking for something. He was too ashamed to admit to his mom what he needed. Ruth reappeared with teddy in hand.
John sheepishly took the bear in his arms. "Thanks mom."
Around two o'clock John woke with a start. Unwilling to go back to sleep he put the dream on paper. A now familiar figure was again taped to a chair. A hidden man syringe in hand was shooting something into the bound boy's arm. He used the big paper to begin with. John knew he would have to finish this piece.
John raided the cookie jar. Ruth found her son a cookie in one hand and a glass of milk in the other sitting in the kitchen. She sat with him and shared the last cookie.
"Do you want to talk?" John shook his head.
"Do you think..." John began.
"Grab teddy, let's go to bed." John's smile was not lost on his mother. Once again John crawled into the safety of his parent's bed just like when he was little.
John woke again in an empty bed. Grandma Litchfield heard the toilet flush. "You are eating breakfast before you start drawing!"
If you would like to be notified when a new chapter is available drop me a line. ringinmine@yahoo.com