Date: Sun, 24 Aug 1997 22:43:57 -0600 (MDT)
From: Boy-writer <bstory@anon.nymserver.com>
Subject: John Allen (M/b) - part 5/8

JOHN ALLEN (M/b) - part 5

The story continues.  John Allen is a child and adolescent counselor in a
wealthy suburb of a large Eastern city.  He has long had an attraction to
boys, as his three Costa Rican servants, Jorge, Maria, and Carlita know very
well.  John is independently wealthy and lives in one wing of an enormous
mansion.  He is a little over six feet tall with auburn hair and solidly
built, though not grotesquely muscular.

John had considered his attraction to boys to be under control until he met
Jeremy, 13.  The boy has brown hair, green eyes, and a devilish nature
(impish would be an understatement).  Jeremy has caused no end of trouble
for his parents who, until meeting John, were considering giving him up to
the State.

Chapter 15 ----------

It was Thursday evening, and John's last patient of the night, a mildly
autistic boy of 7, had just left.  John didn't normally take patients with
such severe illnesses, but he had been prevailed upon by the boy's parents,
who were prominent in social circles and major benefactors of the local Arts
Council.  There are certain men that one does not say "no" to, and the boy's
father was one - one bad word from a man like that, and John's practice
would have been cut in half, if not finished entirely.  And John had begun
to realize that he needed his practice as a counselor; it filled the empty
hours and gave him purpose.

Still, he felt out of his depth.  It seemed impossible to reach the boy,
impossible to converse with him as he did with his other patients.  Even
John's youngest patient, a girl of 4 who was haunted with a morbid fear of
just about everything, seemed more, well, connected.  John would be talking
to the boy calmly about sports, in which he took an interest, then,
suddenly, the color of the carpet would become all-important.  John knew
that autism got much worse; the boy could at least talk, though he often
made little sense.  Dr. Allen decided he had a lot of reading to do.

John realized that tomorrow was Friday, and that meant Jeremy.  He felt his
heart leap.  Seeing Jeremy again would make all the dreary hours worthwhile. 
John was angry at himself for not feeling that way about all his patients,
though of course he did his best for them, but he knew Jeremy was different. 
Like Tommy at the boarding school.

No, John thought, shaking his head, not like Tommy.  Like no other kid John
had known.  More than Tommy?  Maybe; maybe just different.  Tommy hadn't
needed John the way Jeremy seemed to.  John felt a sense of responsibility
to Jeremy that he hadn't felt before, not that he had ever, in his owm mind,
disregarded a boy's welfare.  As if Jeremy were the heir to some ancient
throne, and it was John's purpose in life as a knight to defend him with his
sword from all enemies.  But Jeremy was his own worst enemy.

Solemn thoughts to have, and pacing the forgotten corridors of the unused
wings of a useless mansion, John was having them in a solemn place.  But
thinking of Jeremy brought a lightness to his heart that seemed to bring a
secret smile to any thought, as if every bit of destruction in the world
were accompanied by the smile of the boy who destroyed the bookcase, as if
every bit of cruelty in the world were committed by a boy who cheated at
soccer, as if all pain were inflicted by someone who would put their little
arms around your neck and cry on your shoulder after you hurt them.  The
empty halls seemed filled with the screams of a little laughing maniac
destroying priceless antiques.

What about tomorrow's session? John thought brightly.  The outdoor session,
he decided, had been a good idea; this kid would never sit still in an
office.  But today had been overcast, and rain was forecast for tomorrow. 
John thought of going outside anyway - rugby might be more Jeremy's game
than tame soccer - but decided that the kid might catch cold.  He paced the
hallways looking for an idea.

John turned a corner into a part of the mansion he hadn't visited before and
saw a stairway leading down.  He was on the first floor, so this was a
cellar of some sort.  He knew there were wine cellars beneath other wings,
with some rare vintages and much wine, too old, turned to vinegar.  There
had also been a cellar with jars of fruits and vegetables discovered by
Maria after several jars had burst and the smell of decay began to spread
through the house.  This didn't look like a cellar door, though.  The steps
were worn from frequent use, and the door was scratched and marked as if
opened by countless people.  John went down and opened the door.

He turned on the light.  Flourescent lights, hanging from the ceiling,
crackled to life; this had to be the only room in the house with fluorescent
lights.  A fan embedded near the ceiling in a far wall hummed and started to
turn; gray light from the courtyard seeped in through it.

It was a gym, or, more specifically, a boxing gym.  A large boxing ring
standing four feet off the floor dominated the capacious room.  There were
punching bags along one wall and what seemed to be a trampoline behind the
ring.  The floor was not hardwood or parquet as in the rest of the house,
nor plain cement as in the cellars, but linoleum tile, though in reasonably
good shape.  There was a ping-pong table to John's left as he entered.  Off
to the right and extending toward the middle of the room, there were
wrestling mats on the floor, and a balance beam was along the right wall. 
On the far side of the boxing ring, there appeared to be a set of parallel
bars.  The walls were panelled with cherry, it appeared - but then John
noticed several scratches.  It was pine, not cherry, only stained; this had
to be the only room in the house without "real" wood in it as well.  Nails
were driven into the panelling, and jumpropes, boxing gloves, and other
things hung from the nails.  Posters of long-ago prize fights hung from the
walls, placed there with tape and now falling off.  The room was a complete
and total affront to everything the house represented; it was shamelessly,
joyously tacky.

Several of the fluorescent bulbs were burned out, and the remainder were
fighting a losing battle with the gloom against the phony cherry panelling. 
John went back and ordered Jorge to get some new bulbs and Maria and Carlita
to clean up the place.

In a few hours they were done, and John went back.  They had taken down the
posters, which John regretted, but he saw why the fluorescents had been
used.  The room was brilliant; it shone like daylight.  Those _were_
parallel bars along the right wall.  There was a pegboard as well, obviously
new; John knew that only old lady Johnson could have installed it and
wondered why she had.  More mats were piled along the right wall.  There was
fencing equipment in a far corner.

A doorway to the right led to a tiled locker room, with showers and
whirlpool baths.  A small office off the locker room was locked.  An infirmary
with two beds and a variety of patent medicines was in the back of the
locker room.

There was a closet with towels and an assortment of athletic apparel.  There
was some in John's size.  Looking further, he found some in Jeremy's size as
well.  Problem solved - this was even better than the courtyard.

Chapter 16 ----------

Friday finally arrived, rainy as predicted, and so did Jeremy, brought by
his mother, Allison.  Jeremy was in well-fitting jeans, without a belt, a
red striped polyester shirt, sneakers, and a yellow raincoat.  Allison was
in pumps, an evening dress, and a black raincoat.  Obviously planning a
dinner out, which must be a luxury for these people, John thought.  She
spoke quickly, saying that Jeremy's father was waiting in the car.  Allison
took John aside (Jorge watching the kid like a hawk) and said that they were
having an evening out and might be late.  She hoped John would understand. 
Jorge was not out of earshot and turned his head slightly, still keeping his
eye on the boy.  John said, "Fine, we'll be here."  The woman smiled slyly,
feeling she had put one over on the gullible therapist.  She left with a
confident step.

>From Allison's point of view, John was a pushover, the first man or beast
she had been able to find who didn't actually seem to mind having Jeremy
around.  When she heard about his deal with Jeremy's father, especially the
part about him offering "pro bono" counselling, she figured she had him
pegged.  The man felt an obligation to do good, and, like most people, when
Allison encountered such fools, she took them for all they were worth.  This
fool was worth at least a night on the town without the kid from hell, and
maybe more.

In reality, it hadn't been a bad deal for John at all.  Jeremy's father,
Lawrence, was an excellent accountant and a competent investment advisor. 
John was finally caught up with the IRS, had his substantial fortune
invested in some very solid companies (the old lady hadn't sold a stock in
decades and still held stock of long-dead railroads), and Jorge was
genuinely relieved to get away from bookkeeping, which he hated, as he told
John after Lawrence took it over (it was impossible to know what Jorge hated
from his behavior alone).  John wasn't paying fees on his checking account
any more, and the creditors were all paid off.

John's musings were interrupted, though, when Jeremy flew out the door of
the outer office, evading Jorge's grasping fist.  Jorge ran after him,
followed by John.  Jorge saw Maria misting some plants outside and motioned
to her, and soon she brought up the rear.  Jeremy tore down the hallway. 
His sneakers squeaked on the parquet as he made a sharp left into another
corridor.  John called out Carlita's name.

Jeremy ran past a small table in the hallway, reached out his hand, and
knocked over a priceless Ming vase.  He laughed hysterically, then his
sneakers squeaked again as he made a right.  Jeremy spied a staircase to his
right and ran up it.  The adults rounded the corner, slipping on the floor,
Jorge bouncing off the wall, Maria nearly falling, John catching her.  They
set off again in hot pursuit.

On the third floor, the hallways were carpeted.  Carlita was in the hallway
looking around, when Jeremy appeared at the opposite end.  She held out her
arms and put her head down, like a hockey goalie.  Jeremy laughed and
knocked over another vase, a less valuable one this time, and continued to
run towards her.  Jorge and John reached the top of the stairs and started
to run after Jeremy.  They watched in horror as the boy ran straight into
Carlita with his arms out front, bowling her over, fell down on the other
side of her, then got up and started running again.  Jorge made a quick
motion to Maria, who stopped to help Carlita while the men continued their
pursuit.

Jeremy made another right, but the carpet was no longer giving him an
advantage since the men's shoes did not slide on it.  Furthermore, he was
entering a part of the house that Jorge and John were well familiar with. 
Jeremy made a left, and both men smiled to themselves.  The hallway the boy
had turned into was a circular one, coming back to the main hallway about 50
feet back.  John nodded to Jorge, who went back to cover the other opening
while John continued to pursue Jeremy.

Jeremy was laughing like a demon and started to sing some tuneless song. 
John followed, now closing, breathing hard but determined.  The hallway
turned left.  Jeremy held out his hands, but there were no tables in this
hallway, only dark rooms on either side.  He finally settled on a tune:
"Grantchester Cathedral, I'm angry at you ..."  John shook his head. 
Obviously his mother listed to the oldies station.  The sound echoed through
the house as if it actually were a cathedral.

The hallway turned left again, and Jeremy kept running and singing.  Then he
saw Jorge waiting for him at the end.  He knew Jorge couldn't be bowled over
like Carlita - this was the man who had him in a headlock in the courtyard,
the man with an iron grip.  He stopped short and tried to open a door, but
it was locked.  He ran back toward John, who had been bowled over before.

John and Jeremy were going full speed toward each other when they hit with
an audible thump.  They fell to the side with John's head hitting the wall,
but the man had a strong hold on the boy.  John turned Jeremy over on his
back and crouched over him with his hands holding the boy's wrists down. 
John stifled a snicker, then started laughing uncontrollably.  Jeremy kneed
him twice in the back for appearance's sake, then started laughing too. 
Jorge walked up, leaned an outstretched arm against the wall, and smiled.

Eventually John got up and put Jeremy over his shoulder like a sack of
flour.  Jorge walked behind, making sure the boy wouldn't kick, but he
didn't.


Part 6 should be right on the heels of this one ...