WHILE SOME OF THE EVENTS DESCRIBED IN THIS STORY ARE FICTIONALIZED, SO I CAN RETAIN WHAT'S LEFT OF MY SANITY, MANY OF THE EVENTS HERE ACTUALLY HAPPENED AS DESCRIBED. YOU SHOULD KNOW BEFORE YOU CONTINUE THAT THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC ACCOUNTS OF CHILD ABUSE AND VIOLENCE, AS WELL AS DRUG USE BY TEENAGERS. IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED OR THIS KIND OF MATERIAL IS ILLEGAL FOR YOU TO READ, PLEASE STOP NOW. IF YOU ARE, OR KNOW OF A CHILD IN A SIMILAR SITUATION, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! CALL THE POLICE. CALL SOCIAL SERVICES. DO ANYTHING, BUT DO SOMETHING!
Chapter 3
As the next few days went by, I stayed awake more and more. Ben never left my side that I could tell. He must have waited until I was asleep to go home and shower. Finally, after I had been awake and somewhat coherent for a week, my doctor started to talk about releasing me from the hospital. I remember that it was a Wednesday morning. Joe and Ben came into my room, and Ben had a big bunch of balloons in his hand, that he tied to the chair in the corner.
"Hey buddy," he said, smiling down at me. "How are ya this morning?" He gave his dad kind of a sideways look, and asked him to leave for a minute. Joe smiled at both of us, and said he was going to talk to the doctors for a little while. Ben looked at me for a minute, smiled again, and said "So, there's something I need to talk to you about, and I wanted it to be just me and you. The reason I followed you home that day," he began, "Was to tell you that I felt the same way you did. I was afraid to tell you, because we had just met, and I didn't know if you were like me or not. I didn't want you to not be my friend because of that. And then, when I saw what your stepdad did to you on the porch, I thought I had lost my chance." He stopped for a minute to catch his breath, and to stop his tears. "I really thought you were going to die, right there in my lap. I was so scared that I couldn't even talk when my dad called me to ask what happened." When he finished, he sat down next to the bed, put his head in his hands and cried softly for a few minutes. When he looked up again, he smiled at me. "So, what I'm really trying to say here, I guess, is that I'm gay, too, and I'm glad you like me. I like you, too."
"Ben, please don't cry," I said to him. "If you hadn't been there, I would have bled to death on my front porch. I don't know what's going to happen to me now, or where I going to go, but I know that I would have died there If you hadn't helped me. I don't know what to say to you, except thank you, and that I'm a little in awe of how strong you are."
"What do you mean, strong?" he asked. "I've been a basket case this whole time!"
"Maybe," I said, "but you never let me see it. You sat here with me for almost two months now, and I've only seen you cry a couple of times, and you haven't freaked out on me yet."
He laughed a little bit then, and said "That's because I did all my freaking out the first two weeks you were here. You were not awake to see it, but believe me, buddy, it happened!"
Well, his laugh was definitely contagious, and before I knew it, we were both howling! I was laughing so hard I was crying, and it hurt my ribs something awful! When Joe came back into the room, he must have thought we had lost the last little bit of our minds. He just shook his head and smiled at the both of us.
"Well, Jeremy," he said, looking from me to Ben and back, "I guess Benny had his little talk with you? I hope so, because there's something I want to add to it. When Ben and Greg's mom died a couple of years ago, we all went through a pretty rough patch trying to get to know each other again. You see, Jo and I had always agreed that she should stay home and take care of the boys, and that I would work. Well, I didn't realize at the time, but that meant that I had to be gone from my kids all the time. I worked double shifts, and sometimes two jobs, just to make sure we could afford everything that they needed. When Jo got sick, I realized that I had no idea who my boys were, or what kind of men they were growing up to be. So, I did what I thought I had to. I cut my hours down to a regular work week, and quit my second job. I didn't want another minute to go by without knowing who these guys were." He stopped, and smiled at us, before going on. "After Jo died, Greg and I got on OK, but Benny could never seem to be able to sit down and talk to me without getting angry or upset. I, being a cop, of course thought he was on drugs, and told him so." With this, Ben walked around the bed, sat down next to his dad and held his hand. "Benny cried for a minute, and then he looked up at me, and I saw how afraid he was. It broke my heart to think that he was scared of me. He told me that he wasn't on drugs, that he was gay. He told me that he knew I hated him for it, and that he had arranged to live with his aunt until school was over." After he said that last part, he had to stop for a minute to regain his composure before he could continue. "I cried with him," Joe said. "I told him that I loved him, no matter what he said or did and that if he felt like he couldn't stay, that he could live with his aunt, but that I would rather he stay with me and Greg. I told him that being gay was not anything to be ashamed of, and that he was a perfectly normal boy. It was probably the proudest I have ever been of him."
I couldn't believe what I had just heard. This guy, this macho urban cop, had just told me that he loved his gay son, with all his heart. It didn't matter that he was different, it only mattered that Benny was his son. I was floored. I had no experience with this kind of parent, and I wasn't sure what to say. Fortunately, Joe continued speaking, and I was off the hook. I didn't trust myself to speak, anyway.
"The reason I'm telling you this, Jeremy, is that I see the way you and my son look at each other. I want you to know that for as long as you are in our house, you will be safe. Nobody will judge you for things you can't control. Nobody will ever raise a hand to you, and you don't have to be afraid. I can see that Benny loves you. Hell, he has hardly left this room for the last two months. I can also see how hard the next few months are going to be for you. I know I'm not your parent, but I want you to know you can talk to me if something is bothering you, or if you just feel like you need to talk about all this. I don't expect this to be easy for you, or any of us, but we will all help you pull through this, kiddo. I promise."
When I responded, it must have been automatic, because the sound of my own voice startled me, and I jumped a little bit. "Joe, I don't know what to say to any of that. If my stepdad had known about me, he would have killed me. I'm still not sure why he didn't. I'm not even sure what I did, or said, this time to set him off. All I remember is opening the front door. I don't remember saying anything to anyone. I just remember falling back out onto the porch. I guess I'll never know now, huh?" And once again, I started bawling. "I wish," I sobbed, "that he had killed me. I don't think I can handle all of this. How am I supposed to live with this, knowing what he did to my sisters? My mom made her choice long ago, I guess, and she had to live with the consequences of that choice, but god-damnit, they didn't!"
Joe and Ben both just looked at me, with shocked expressions. It was Ben that spoke first.
"I'm so sorry for what happened to your sisters, buddy," he said quietly. "I wish there was something we could have done to stop him, but there wasn't. I'm sorry."
Then Joe said "I know you feel now like you should have done something, kiddo, but believe me, you did everything you could. You survived all these years in that house, and that is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. You say that Benny is strong for not breaking down or freaking out over all of this, but you're wrong. Oh he is a strong boy, but you are probably the strongest person I have ever met. I've seen the scars on your body, and I've seen your x-rays. I know how much you endured. I know how much you were hurt. And you are still here. Remember that, kid, when you feel down on yourself. That man tried his best to break your spirit, and crush your will to live. He broke your body, and he hurt you, but you are still here. Now, let's get you ready to go home. I know you're hurting, son, but you have to trust us that we will be here for you."
"But, why are you doing this for me?" I asked. "You don't know me. Maybe it was my?.."
Ben cut me off. "NO! You did nothing to bring this on yourself. Nothing you could possibly have done could justify this response. This man was crazy. And you were not to blame for any of this! Now, get some rest, buddy, you're coming home tomorrow morning." And he leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. I thought my brain would melt and run out my ears. I couldn't believe that with everything falling down on my head, that a simple kiss on the head could make me feel like this. I felt like singing. Crazy shit, huh? Well, my head was pretty fucked up at the time. Not that it still isn't, but we'll get to that later.
I didn't sleep at all that night. I tried to call my grandparents, but got a recording that said their new number was unpublished. It was the same with both aunts and uncles. I was truly on my own now. I sat up wondering what my life would be like now. I also thought about what kind of person it took to just walk away from a kid that had been through Hell. I guess I couldn't fault my grandparents, or my mother's siblings. I mean, what were they gonna say? Sorry everyone you loved is dead, kid, now get your ass to school? Fuck. What was I gonna do about school? I had always been a decent student, but I had missed a lot of time due to injuries. I was already two grades ahead at the end of last school year, so I should be starting my sophomore year in just about ten days. I hoped I would be well enough to start school with the few people I knew, even though I would be a grade ahead of them. Thinking about school gave me a terrible headache. What were people going to say? I mean, some of the kids I went to school with lived in the neighborhood. They had to know what happened in the little house on the corner. Would I be the talk of the school? Would the kids continue to torment me the way they always had? What would I say to them? What would they say to me? How could I ever look anyone in the eye again? Unfortunately, I had no answers, only more questions.