Date: Fri, 25 Nov 2005 17:57:07 -0500
From: Henry Higgins <escribir12@hotmail.com>
Subject: Nevermore-18

Statement of Intent: M/t/t

This story is about sexual love between an adult male and consenting
teenage males. If the subject of the story is offensive or illegal for you
to read, then don't. Otherwise, enjoy! All persons, places, and events in
this story are entirely fictional, the product of the author's
imagination. The author does not condone adults having sexual relations
with minor children.

Statement of Ownership and Copyright:

Copyright (c) 2005 by the author known as Henry Higgins reserves all rights
accorded by United States copyright law. This story is for your enjoyment
only. You may not post, sell, or otherwise transfer this story to anyone
else.

Author's note:

Life sometimes gets in the way of more important stuff, like writing. So,
after a hiatus of a couple of weeks, here is Chapter 18. I'd like to thank
my NiftyWriters friends, Boystory and Miguel Sanchez, for their input to my
tale, especially for the mundane but ever-so-useful suggestion to include a
"To be continued..." statement after every chapter except the last. And I
continually thank you, my readers, for your inspiration and good thoughts,
especially when you send me an email message. I always welcome your
comments at escribir12@hotmail.com


Henry


Nevermore!
by Henry Higgins


18--Putting Things Right

I sat in the drab interrogation room of the mall security office, having
just been told by a county sheriff's deputy that they knew of my status as
a registered sex offender. My guts roiled. For what seemed like minutes, I
could neither move nor speak. My heart pounded. Little rivulets of sweat
ran from my armpits down my arms into my shirtsleeves. It was a blessing
that I didn't have the same problem with my leg-pit. I tried desperately to
collect my scattered thoughts. The officer was waiting for me to respond,
but I couldn't.

"Mr. Watson?" demanded the officer. His steel-gray eyes bored a hole in
me. Below his hat I saw that his hair was cropped so close to his scalp
that had he not been in uniform, I would have thought he was a skinhead. I
could see his veins pulsing along his neck and temples.

"I'm sorry," I said. "This whole business has me quite upset--I can't think
straight. First, Rusty's attack... then, losing track of the boys... Now
this... "

"I understand, sir. We'd like to help you with it, but to do that, we need
to know exactly what happened in that arcade," said the officer. What made
me think that this pig had no way of understanding me--nor any desire?

I saw an opportunity to buy some time. I could repeat my story deliberately
and thus grab some time to think. "As I said, I was doing the younger boy's
mother a favor by taking her son, Rusty, to the doctor's office for blood
work. His best friend, Kenny, came along for support. After the blood test
we went for lunch to the diner across the street. A waitress named Delores
waited on us. Then we came over here to the arcade. I saw Rusty get into
line for the flight simulator and then checked out where his friend Kenny
had gone. As I turned back to check on Rusty again, I saw him clutching his
throat and heard him gasping. He was staring at the back of the arcade
where I saw an exit sign. So I ran over to that door and went into the
hallway, hoping that the security office might be there, or somebody else
who could help. But the hall was empty. By then, the door had shut and I
found it locked, so I couldn't get back in. When I came back around to the
front of the arcade, I found the boys gone and became alarmed."

The officer nodded but didn't say anything as he continued to regard me
thoughtfully. I stayed quiet as well and returned his gaze. By then, my
panic had subsided and I could think a little more clearly. I realized that
so far, I really had done nothing to break the law. Well, okay. If someone
knew that I, a convicted sex offender, had showered with Kenny and hugged a
naked Rusty with an erection, that would arouse suspicion despite the fact
that I had managed to control myself in both situations. Still, I could see
no reason for that knowledge to become available.

More important, the boys' parents both knew that they were with
me. Admittedly, Kenny's father had assumed the worst about Kenny and me and
seemed not to care about either of us. And, Betty Simpson thought we were
on a short trip. But, I had told Betty something of my background and she
still trusted me not to be sexual with her son. These realizations further
bolstered my confidence and helped me to deal simply and fairly honestly
with the officer.

"Mr. Watson, aren't you worried about being found in the company of
underage boys with a sex conviction on your record?"

"Officer," I replied, "I have been incident-free since the situation that
first got me into trouble. That is more than fifteen years with no
repeat--not even a near miss."

The officer nodded. "We are aware of your record," he said.

I continued, "Even today, I don't go to places where boys congregate. I
didn't pursue the relationship with either of these boys. They developed
coincidentally. Both boys' parents know of the relationship. I want to be a
mentor to the boys. That is the type of relationship that each boy's parent
understands to exist--and expects. It is also the true nature of my
relationship with each boy." I looked the officer in the eye and felt
myself solidly holding my ground. I had spoken nothing but the truth so
far.

"I see," he said. "That all sounds good, Mr. Watson. But I know your
kind--the sexual attraction that got you into trouble in the first place
never goes away. I can't see how you could mentor any boy without that
interest getting in the way. Sooner or later you'd have to cave in to it."

"I have managed that problem the same way I have managed to avoid further
incidents for more than fifteen years," I said, feeling challenged, but
still definitely in control.

The officer continued, "We'll find out whether what you claim is true,
sir. By now, each boy should have been tested for the evidence of any
sexual activity. With the DNA testing available today, we'll know for sure
whether you have been sexually involved with either boy."

I fought to control my anger at the thought of my boys having to suffer the
humiliation of having a swab clinically and impersonally shoved up their
rectums, especially Rusty. He must have seen my face redden because I
thought I saw him smile ever so slightly. Still, I strove to maintain my
calm demeanor. I felt a cold, steely determination that I would not let him
intimidate me. By now, I was pretty sure that legally he might be at least
a little off base. I hoped that between Rog and his lawyer, we could have
this guy's balls if we ever wanted them. So, I sat silently and held my
ground.

"Mr. Watson, it would be a lot easier for you if you would just come clean
and tell me what has really happened with those boys," said the officer
just a little too smoothly. "We've had cases where we incarcerated people
like you and they wound up being beaten and raped. We try to prevent it,
but you know how it is with over-crowded jails and limited staff. There's
only so much we can do." He smiled ironically and shrugged.

I sat silently, contemplating my answer. Just then, his radio squawked and
he answered it. "Deever here. Yes, I'm questioning him right now. I
see. Yes, I can have him there in five minutes. Yes sir. Deever out."

"Well, it seems that your presence is required in the Emergency Room,
Mr. Watson. I am supposed to take you there immediately. I trust that I
won't have to restrain you," he sneered.

Fear and anger stabbed at me, but I somehow managed to keep calm. Despite
the jab, excitement bubbled up in me. I hoped I would be able to see the
boys. Regardless of what this shit-head wanted from me, I could at least
contact my boys, let them know that I was okay, and see that they were
okay, too.

"I have cooperated with you so far, and I'll continue to do so," I said.

Without another word, Officer Deever rose, stepped to the door, and held it
open for me to exit the room, which I did without incident. In the mall
security office was another deputy, whom I took to be Deever's partner. He
fell in behind us as we left the security office and headed down the
utility hall to leave the mall. Outside, I blinked in the brightness as the
two officers guided me to a county cruiser and helped me into the back
seat.

As promised, the drive to the hospital took less than five minutes. I
waited until one of the officers opened the back door and then bent and
twisted around to exit the patrol car safely. They had pulled into the
drive for emergency vehicles, so that in a few steps, we entered directly
into the ER. At the door was another officer who seemed to be a supervisor
to the two I had been with, even though he seemed to be quite a bit younger
than them. I would have guessed him to be in his early to
mid-twenties. This new officer dismissed the other two, who departed the
same way we had come in.

"Ah, Mr. Watson. I'm Officer Weintraub of the County Sheriff's Department."
He extended his hand, which I shook politely but without smiling. "I can
understand your dismay at this situation, but I assure you that all is
well. The boys who were in your company are both doing well. And, the
younger boy who was having the asthma attack has now stabilized. You'll be
able to see them shortly. Meanwhile, a friend of yours wants to see you."

Out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of golden red curls that could
belong only to one person that I knew--Roger Hansen. He clapped me on the
shoulder, shook my hand, and gave me a big wink.

"Oh, Roger," I cried. "How did you know to come here? I can't believe this!
Oh, my God!"

Rog grinned his boyish grin and said, "Kenny gave them my name and they
called me--simple! Rusty's stable and Kenny has a mild sedative. Both of
them are VERY eager to see you."

I felt like totally collapsing. Moving so suddenly between the harsh
interrogation of Officer Deever and the civil (if not cordial) reception
from Officer Weintraub, I felt emotionally wasted. I just wanted Roger to
hold me and let me cry, as he had done so often in the past. But, my
survival instinct kept me upright and proper. Officer Deever's
interrogation still swam in my mind. Officer Weintraub and Roger walked me
back through the mess of gurneys, monitors, and curtains in the Emergency
Room. We rounded a corner and there they were--Rusty sitting up on a gurney
and Kenny beside him holding his hand.

"Boys?" I managed to choke out.

"Jim!" they chorused. We three melded into an awkward three-way hug that at
that point felt the best I had ever felt. Rog and the cop stayed slightly
back to let us have our little reunion in about as much privacy as could be
found in that place. We didn't need to speak. In the minute or so that we
hugged and sobbed, I knew that both boys had been cared for expediently and
with compassion, and that we were all waiting for Rusty's breathing to
return to an acceptable volume. Kenny had supplied Roger's name, the
medical people had tried unsuccessfully to reach each boy's parent, and
Roger had been able to act in loco parentis, given the gravity of Rusty's
condition and the fact that he had treated each boy previously. I didn't
even question how I knew all of this without words and in such a short
time; I just did.

"It's okay, boys, it's okay," I cried as the boys hugged me tightly and
sobbed lightly. "We're going to get through this; we're all going to be
okay."

Neither boy would let go of me, but somehow I got turned around to face Rog
and Officer Weintraub.

"Dr. Hansen has filled me in on the essentials of what happened, so that I
think I have enough information to complete my report," said Officer
Weintraub. "There are some things we need to go over with you, Mr. Watson,
while Rusty finishes regaining his breath. Boys, do you think you could
excuse us for a few minutes? We'll be in a little meeting room just off the
lobby of the ER. If either of you need any of us, just press the button
hooked onto the bed and one of the nursing staff will get us immediately."

Both boys looked dubious, but agreed. I thought, what else could they do?
Apparently, both were as relieved to see that I was okay as I was to see
the same about them. We stepped back through the ER, through the lobby, and
into a small room with a table and four chairs.

"Doctor Hansen has filled me in on the events of the past few days,
Mr. Watson," said Officer Weintraub. "It seems that you've quite had your
hands full."

I smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, since I didn't know exactly what he
was referring to and didn't much want to press him for details.

"Mr. Watson, I'll get directly to the point. Dr. Hansen has told me enough
to understand why Rusty had the anxiety attack. We've identified the man
who was killed under the truck as a Tier 1 ex-offender with a string of
arrests in his history--all of them related to cruel sexual activities with
children. We know that he attacked Rusty yesterday and that's probably why
the boy had the anxiety attack today when he saw the man in the arcade."

I stared at the man, speechless. He continued.

"Admittedly, you are in a precarious position, given your own background of
conviction for a sex offense; but Doctor Hansen has told me enough about
your circumstances to suggest that you have achieved a healthy
rehabilitation. Through regular channels, you would not be allowed to
shelter a boy like Kenny. However, I think we have special circumstances
here that might allow an exception."

I couldn't quite believe what I was hearing. My mouth must have been open
because both Roger and Officer Weintraub looked at me with curious
expressions. I felt as if I were in a time warp. My breathing became
shallow and I was slightly dizzy.

"Jim, are you okay?" Rog asked.

"I don't know," I answered. "I just came from an interrogation at the mall
that had me convinced that I was headed back to prison for even being in
the company of these boys, regardless of what we were or were not
doing. And now, Officer Weintraub, you are telling me that my sheltering
Kenny may be allowed as some kind of exception? Both of you work for the
same County Sheriff's Department, right?" I couldn't see how I was making
much sense as I just kind of sputtered to a stop.

"What did Officer Deever tell you?" asked Officer Weintraub.

I answered, "I'm not sure I can remember it word for word, but it was
something to the effect that he knows that men like me never can get rid of
the attraction to boys that gets us into trouble in the first place, so I
might as well come clean and tell him what really happened because
otherwise, they would get it out of me anyway."

Officer Weintraub and Roger looked at one another. Some sort of silent
communication must have passed between them as Rog nodded his head
slightly. Officer Weintraub turned back to me.

"May I call you Jim?" he asked.

"Please do," I answered.

"Jim, first I must apologize for what that man said to you. He had no right
to say what he did and I will see to it that he is corrected. He will
either change his manner or he will be out of the Sheriff's Department by
the end of next week. Second, I want to tell you how much I admire what you
are doing for Kenny and Rusty. Given your background, I think it took a
huge amount of courage to take Kenny in on Thanksgiving and then shelter
him and heal him the way you did. But, that's exactly what that boy and so
many others like him need--an adult male to care for them and mentor them,
as well as to provide shelter."

I must have still been staring at Officer Weintraub. I was just totally
immobilized by what he was saying to me.

"I know this probably sounds strange coming from me, a policeman. And,
please, call me Max. I have a special role on the Vice Squad at the
Sheriff's Department." His eyes became watery and glistened. "You see, when
I was around Kenny's age, I was into exactly what he has been doing with
men who pay him. Had it not been for a special friend who found and rescued
me, I'd probably be dead by now. That's what happens to so many of those
kids. The street is a very unforgiving place to live. The department has
tasked me to work informally and directly with these kids to try to save as
many of them as we can."

Now things began to fall into place for me. I wasn't feeling quite so
disoriented. I actually began to smile as I wondered who Max's benefactor
could have been. The officer turned to look at Rog and suddenly I knew the
benefactor. The look of love that passed between them was so strong, so
unmistakable, that I knew. It was the same love that I felt for Kenny and
Rusty--the same love that I had felt from Rog as he helped me back to
independence. And suddenly, my tears came unbidden, flowing down my cheeks
as I sobbed. I looked at Rog.

"Oh, Rog! Max! You mean I've been doing it right, after all! Deever is just
misguided." The two men moved to hug me and hold me. I just lost it. They
held me as I sobbed.

"Yes, Jim. You've been doing it right," said Max. "And we need men like you
who can help us reach these kids and communicate with them. It's just that
what I do for the department and what you do for these kids has to stay
pretty much under cover, thanks to some of the more conservative elements
of our community."

"Jim? Jim!" It was Kenny. I should have known he would read my feelings. We
were so close to each other now. But, he had come over to be with me. Kenny
joined the man-hug that surrounded me. "Oh, Jim! I just knew there'd be a
way I could stay with you. Oh, Jim! I love you so much." The boy was crying
along with me.

Now it was Max's turn to be surprised and nonplussed. His question was
written all over his face as he looked from Rog to me to Kenny and then
back to Rog.

Rog said, "They have some kind of empathic thing going, Max. That's how
Kenny knew that Rusty was in trouble yesterday. Apparently, it can extend
to me, because I'm convinced that's why I had a sudden thirst that could
only be satisfied by one of Jim's beers yesterday just before he and Kenny
brought Rusty back with them."

Max sputtered, "Well, whatever you call it. Something is working right for
all of you. That's just marvelous, Rog!"

And to me, Max said, "Jim, we need to talk more about how you and Kenny
could help; but right now, let's get back to Rusty. Are you okay now?"

"I think so, Max. I still feel kind of like I'm spinning, but I think
that'll settle down shortly. You're right. We need to get back to Rusty," I
answered.

Our little group made its way back through the ER waiting room, around the
corner, and into Rusty's area just as the ER physician who had been
treating him completed another breath flow assessment with him.

"That's great, Rusty. Your breath has improved so much that I think we can
let you go home now. And here comes your dad with Dr. Hansen right now."
Rusty's grin spoke volumes.

"Dr. Hansen, Rusty is ready to go home now. His breathing has returned to
an acceptable level, but you'll need to monitor it over the next week or
so. The EMTs administered an Albuterol nebulizer at the mall and we gave
him another when he arrived here this afternoon. Based on what I see now,
this attack seems to have been acute rather than an indication of any
underlying chronic condition. I suggest that you give Rusty a nebulizer to
carry for the next week, just in case there's a recurrence. I don't expect
one. Have him continue to monitor his breath volume at home and at school,
just to be safe. But, you shouldn't have any more problems. If you do, I'm
sure you know of a pulmonary specialist for a referral."

"I understand, Dr. Edwards," said Rog. "We'll be happy to do just that."

Getting Rusty home was going to be a problem. His clothes were in a bag and
pretty much a shambles. As I looked through the bag, I saw that his pants,
shoes, and socks were okay, but there wasn't much left of his shirt. He was
dressed in a hospital gown, blankets, and had been allowed to keep his
underwear on.

Rusty's condition was not the only problem; I had to get back to the mall
to retrieve my car.

"Jim, I'll go out and get my car started so it'll be warm by the time you
guys get in." Rog said. "Then I'll drop you by the mall on the way back to
your house so you can get your car."

I should have known. This gentle, golden giant of a man who was so into
healing had anticipated my needs perfectly. I looked at him with about the
same look of adoration as had Max Weintraub. I smiled, but couldn't think
of what to say. Rog smiled back.

"It's okay," he said. "We have a lot to talk about later--when Max can join
us. For now, we just need to get you guys home."


To be continued...