Date: Sat, 14 Aug 2010 14:17:33 -0700 (PDT)
From: R Ranger <bn2rumpranger (at) yahoo.com>
Subject: Marine Home On Leave Chapter 50

Warning! This story is sexually explicit, if you are not of legal age to
read such or are offended by this type of erotic writing do not read any
further. This part of the story will be about the Marine, Ronny's
rehabilitation. Part II of the story may sound familiar to some readers as
I wrote an earlier story about a care giver.

To contact the author cut and paste making appropriate corrections and
E-mail: bn2rumpranger "at" yahoo "dot" com     Subject line: Marine Home on
Leave.


Marine Home on Leave
By Randall Rumper

Part II

Ronny's Caregiver

Chapter 50: Nightmare at the Doughnut Shop

Jason rode through the night towards home. He couldn't get events of the
past weeks and months out of his head, especially the ugly blow up that had
brought his duties taking care of the injured Marine to an end.

His tormented soul recalled the message left by a desperate mother looking
for someone to help her with a gravely injured son and the immediate
bonding that had taken place between the two on that first meeting and how
they had immediately connected. There were haunting memories of the row
that ended it all. Jason eased the throttle back on the bike, slowing for
the Interstate off ramp.

The off ramp was a major junction that intersected the Interstate and the
major highway that took Jason home. Before going home Jason needed to stop
at the all night doughnut and coffee shop just off the Interstate
interchange to get some coffee and contemplate what was happening and where
he was going with his life. Jason pulled into the parking area, switched
the bike off and dismounted. He removed his helmet and hung it on the
handlebar and unzipped the leather jacket before walking towards the
entrance to the coffee shop.

Approaching the entrance Jason noticed a car with its driver's door
standing open. The older car was idling without a driver. Something didn't
seem quite right to Jason. Suddenly, he could hear and see a black man
waving a handgun shouting at the young black woman behind the cash
register.

The robber was yelling that he was going to kill the cashier if she didn't
hand over the money in the cash register. There was a look of frozen horror
on her face as the man continued his physical and verbal terrorizing attack
on the woman. Jason knew the woman was facing a life and death dilemma. The
young caregiver could make a decision to slink away to safety, whereby he
would simply back off, get on his bike, ride away and then call the
police. Or he could take the highroad by making an honourable move to
disarm the young man with the gun and save the girl from an almost certain
death.

Jason knew what his hero, the Marine might do. Ronny would probably storm
the place, take the gun away from the cowardly criminal and then stick the
barrel up his ass flushing the bad right out of his ass. Jason wasn't a
fighter.

The caregiver hadn't been trained the way Ronny had been trained in the
Marine Corps to disarm, subdue and kill enemy combatants. Jason knew that
he was bigger and probably stronger than the guy waving the gun around, but
the gun is the great equalizer. Whatever was to be done needed to be done
before someone was injured or worse, killed. Jason had been a high school
wrestler and a damn good one. He'd also done some martial arts training
during that time, but he had never been trained to disarm a man with a gun.

Jason could see that the weapon in the bad guy's hand was a silver
revolver. Suddenly, he remembered a couple things he'd seen on one of the
television cop shows. The older cop on the television show had instructed
the rookie that if he was ever confronted by a perpetrator with a
six-shooter to try to place a thumb or finger between the hammer and
cylinder to keep the weapon from firing and then push or pull the piece
into the air depending upon how he was facing the attacker.

In a spilt second Jason bolted through the door like a flash of lightening
without warning. His left arm encircled the neck of the robber. At the same
time his right arm reached over the man's right shoulder. He tightened his
hold on the man's neck at the same time grabbing the revolver and the man's
hand, wedging his thumb between the hammer and frame of the weapon. With a
firm grip on the bad guy's hand and weapon he then jerked upwards while
pulling the robber backwards to the floor. Once on the floor Jason wrapped
his powerful wrestling legs around the guy, locking them together to keep
robber subdued. This all took the sum of maybe between two and five
seconds. Jason couldn't believe he had the bad guy on the floor.

"Call 9-11! Call 9-11!" Jason began shouting, "9-11, 9-11."

Jason really didn't have to shout out those instructions. The clerk wasted
no time dropping to the floor behind the counter where she made the
emergency call. As Jason lay on the floor holding the man tightly,
squeezing the life out of him, he finally felt the individual's body go
limp. He didn't release his grip on the gun hand or the way he had the
man's neck and body locked up. Within a matter of minutes Jason could hear
sirens wailing, getting closer and closer.

Suddenly, there were police all over the place pointing guns at the two men
on the floor. The police officers were subduing Jason and handcuffing him.

"I'm the good guy!" Jason yelled, "You don't understand I'm the good guy."

The police paid no attention to Jason's plea of innocence. Once the weapon
was safely wrested from his and the robber's hand Jason was handcuffed and
jerked to his feet by the cops pushing him face first across the counter
where they began searching him for weapons and identification. The robber
was still lying on the floor unconscious. Out of the corner of his eye
Jason could see the cashier being led outside, all the time trying to tell
the cops that the big white man was the good guy.

Finally, the cops received verification back from dispatch on Jason and the
bandit. The robber was wanted on outstanding warrants and was considered
armed and dangerous; whereas, Jason was clean. With Jason still wearing
handcuffs the police began trying to sort out what had happened.

The police were interviewing the cashier outside. One of the cops finally
removed Jason's handcuffs and began questioning him. Another officer had
taken the groggy bandit outside, placing him in the back of a police
vehicle awaiting first aid and questioning.

More police and emergency vehicles continued arriving filling the parking
area, including police in plain clothes -- the detectives. The crime scene
people began photographing everything from all angles. After that they
unloaded the gun placing it in an evidence bag as well as putting other
items in other bags. One of the detectives was outside questioning the
robber. The cashier came back inside with the detectives asking, "Can I fix
y'all coffee? It's on the house."



The young waitress began pouring steaming cups of coffee sitting them on
the counter for the police. One of the detectives took a seat across from
Jason in the booth close to the cash register where Jason said, "If you
don't mind before we get started I'd appreciate a cup of coffee,
please. That's what I originally came in here for."

"I'll take a cup too, Miss," the detective said as he began interviewing
Jason.

The cashier placed two big mugs of coffee along with a bowl of creamers on
the table. Jason began looking around. The whole area appeared so surreal;
yellow crime scene tape strung up around the area, police vehicles sitting
all over with emergency lights flashing as well as a fire department rig
and an ambulance. A fireman and police officer came inside. The paramedic
reached for Jason's hand saying, "Let me see your hand."

That was the first time Jason noticed that the skin between his thumb and
forefinger was bleeding with a torn piece of skin dangling. The paramedic
began cleaning up the wound before wrapping it with a bandage and then
saying, "I think this will heal okay. More blood than anything else;
however, you might want to see your doctor tomorrow, or I can take you to
the ER tonight if you want."

"Uh, I'm okay. I'll be okay. Thanks," Jason acknowledged the fireman
tending him.

The paramedic cleaned up the mess on the table before closing his box
before walking outside with the uniformed officer where they looked in on
the bad guy in the back of the police vehicle. In the meantime, the
detective resumed questioning Jason. The caregiver was telling the
detective what had happened. A few minutes later Mrs. Driver appeared
outside pushing through the police and crime scene tape. After a few words
with a police officer she entered the coffee shop. Once inside she asked,
"Jason, are you okay, honey?"

"Uh, yeah as far as I know. I got a cut on the skin between my thumb and
finger but that's about it?" Jason said holding his bandaged paw up like an
injured puppy, "Right now I'm more sacred than anything."

Mrs. Driver sat down next to Jason putting her arm around the now trembling
young man. The trauma of earlier events was now setting in.

The detective asked, "You know this man, mam?"

"Yes, he works for me. He's my son's caregiver."

"How did you know I was here, Mrs. Driver?" Jason asked.

"The police scanner at the house came across as a robbery shooting in
progress down here and then your name came across requesting ID
confirmation. Hell, I didn't know what to think, so I got in the car and
rushed down."

"Wow! I mean I really don't know what the hell really happened." Jason
said.

"Well, let me tell you young man what happened is that you single handed
took down a bad guy and that makes you a hero tonight, son," The detective
said now standing at the cash register drinking coffee, "Look around the
television crews are here and I'm sure they'll want interviews."

"I'm not a hero. Ronny's our town's hero. I just work at the VA hospital
and help Mrs. Driver. I'm a caregiver. I help people not beat them up."

"Again, tonight you're a hero, son, for taking down an armed and dangerous
scum bag. Oh, by the way don't ever pull one of those shenanigans again
young man. The next time we may be taking you outa here in a body bag."

"Oh, I don't think you'll have to worry about that," Jason said in a
quaking voice.

Jason asked that he not be interviewed by the television news people. He
said that maybe later, but not now. Mrs. Driver went outside with the
detective, the owner of the shop and the cashier to be interviewed. He
could see every once in a while one of them would point in his direction
and the cameras would pan over shooting through the window.

One at a time everyone began returning inside. Slowly, the police and other
emergency vehicles and television crew began leaving. Then the detectives
moved outside, conferring for a few minutes before leaving. Suddenly the
parking area was as empty as the moment he arrived hours before, and there
was no one left in the coffee shop but Jason, Mrs. Driver, the waitress and
the owner of the coffee shop. All the crime scene tape was gone. Jason
looked up at the clock that showed a little after four.

The owner of the shop approached the booth asking, "Can I get the two of
you anything besides coffee?"

"Just refills will be fine for me," Jason replied.

"Same for me," Mrs. Driver echoed.

The owner refilled the coffee mugs and then disappeared into the kitchen to
begin making doughnuts for the morning traffic. Jason and Mrs. Driver moved
down towards a more secluded booth where they could talk.

"Jason, I want you to come back to the house with me and let me fix you
breakfast. I'm sure Ronny will want to hear about things first hand, but
before we go back to the house I need some answers, or moreover I need to
understand some things."

"I'll try to help if I can."

"First off, since you left, Ronny hasn't been the same person. He seems to
be very despondent. You got any idea why, Jason?"

"Not really. The only thing I can think is what happened and the big
argument between the four of us. Or maybe it's the fact that the Corps let
him go."

"No, it's something deeper than that."

"Do you want me to talk to Ronny and see what's bothering him?"

"That might help, but I need to tell you some things about my boys and that
means all three of them. As you may know we consider Gary our quasi-adopted
son."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that and that's why I felt so bad about what happened."

Mrs. Driver looked at Jason for a few seconds before she spoke. "Jason what
I'm about to say is between you and me."

"Okay."

"I never gave this homosexual or gay thing as you boys call it much thought
over the years raising the boys. Now, I've got two boys that are a gay
couple. All of them were good boys, went to church, and were involved in
scouting and sports. They had girlfriends. Basically, they were red blooded
All American boys. I just don't understand."

"All those things that you mention have nothing to do with a person being
gay. A person can be and do all those things and still be a
homosexual. Hell, I'm homosexual, Mrs. Driver!"

Mother Driver sat there taken aback by Jason's startling revelation.

In a quavering voice Jason said, "I've known that I was gay since grade
school, but never act upon those feelings and never had a boyfriend, until
now. I told my mom a few years ago when she became suspicious."

"So, how and why did your mom become suspicious, Jason? All the times we
been out together she has never mentioned it."

"I don't think that's a subject parents talk about, Mrs. Driver. As for how
and why, I don't have a clue. Maybe she stumbled on some of my gay
literature."

There was a long pause. The two were looking down as they took sips from
their coffee cups as if the answers were in the coffee before Mrs. Driver
spoke. "You know, if I was to think back over the years I would have never
suspected Brandon or Gary to be the gay boys. Ronny would have been my pick
of the three to turn out homosexual or gay as you boys now say."

"Really! Why is that? And you don't have to apologize for using
homosexual."

"Ronny was a lot like you growing up. He was always concerned for his
family and friends. He seemed to become offended and hurt more easily than
the others. You know, his sensibilities and feelings; whereas, Brandon and
Gary were the tough guys."

Jason looked across at Mrs. Driver questioning in his mind whether he
should say what he was about to say, but he had to say it as they were
being frank with each other. "Maybe that's why Ronny joined the Marine
Corps because he felt that he was doing the right thing, helping the
oppressed, or do you think he joined the Corps to mask his true identity as
that of a homosexual?"

"I don't know. I'm not saying that Ronny is gay, but if he is I'll accept
that. He's my son. I just don't know about a lot of things at this point. I
just know that this divide between the boys has got to be fixed. You have
no idea how this is affecting dad. I'm worried about his health. He's
concerned about his business that he built over the years for the boys to
inherit and now they are deserting him."  Mrs. Driver began to tear up.

"Mrs. Driver parents can't blame themselves for how their children turn out
or what path they will take in life's journey. I never for one minute
entertained the idea that I'd be going to medical school a few years ago,
but it looks like that's where I'm headed."

"Oh Jason, you are so wise for a boy so young," Mrs. Driver praised.

"And a boy who loves your son Ronny," Jason said looking directly into
Mrs. Driver's eyes.

The owner of the coffee shop appeared with a box breaking into the
conversation. He opened it showing an assortment of doughnuts and
pastries. "Here take these as a token of appreciation for what you did last
night. Oh, and from now on any time you stop by my shop the coffee is on
the house."

"Thank you," Jason said to the Korean man closing the lid on the box and
setting the box on the table.

"I'll take these and you follow me," Mrs. Driver said with a smile.

The two left the coffee shop just as the son was breaking over the
horizon. A new day was dawning and everyone was alive to see another
day. Jason mounted his bike and started the engine. He cracked the throttle
a couple times to hear the throaty trust of the powerful engine He zipped
the leather jacket and secured the helmet before putting on his gloves.

Jason eased the clutch lever out opening the throttle at the same time
putting the bike in motion for the ride back to the Driver house. He was
feeling much better than when he rode into the parking area a few hours
before. His head was much clearer and his feelings for Ronny were out in
the open.