Date: Sat, 29 Sep 2001 13:37:41 +0200 From: m. l. <pale_new_dawn@hotmail.com> Subject: betrayed love - chapter twelve umm, don't read this if: ~you are younger than 18 ~you are homophobic or you just generally don't like this sort of stories ~this is forbidden where you live = that means, read if you're sure you can risk it. thanks to Bill Watts for editing this ... I think the story would look not too good if he didn't do it ... not that I'm convinced of my writing ability. :) I mights add: a really huge 'thank you' to Bill as he really is a great guy AND he suggests the chapter headings, as i never have any idea whatsoever about that. additional note, this very chapter was edited by jalaki. thanks to him, it was pretty much on short notice. thanks to ed for the chapter heading and for his work. this story is copyright by me. don't use it somewhere else without my permission, please. other stories by me on nifty: "us" posted on April 1st (highschool) - finished "a little lamb" last posted on June 13th (adult/youth) - on-going feedback appreciated. i'm doing this probably more for myself than for anybody else, but it's nice to know that people maybe do like what i'm writing... ------- !!!!NOTE!!!! first of all, my apologies for the delay...there were a lot of things that happened in the time between this and the last chapter. one important for me was the search for an editor due to personal stuff Bill has/had to get through. thanks to jalaki here. as we are with the thanks stuff, thanks to Evil Genius (guess he won't even read this) for the research stuff. other than that, i really won't make promises anymore. one thing i will say though, don't worry, i have no intention of stopping to write this story...absolutely not. i know i'm a slow writer, but hey...i have something called a life. furthermore, you may notice that i have a new e-mail address. and i WILL use that one from now on for all my stories, so please...use it, in case you have something to say. this chapter is dedicated to micha. -------- -------- !!!!NOTE NUMBER 2!!!! due to me being pretty irregular with updating, you can join a mailing-list to receive an update notice for this story... write an e-mail to, pale_new_dawn-subscribe@topica.com --------- ~~~~~~~~ ~~~ ~ chapter twelve - inquisition and half-truths Reaching the end of the stairs, Jason looked around, searching for his mother and Ray, they were nowhere to be found. 'They probably went back into the kitchen,' Jason thought. In- deed, he heard lively talk coming through the closed kitchen door. As soon as he opened the door and entered the room, the two feel silent. It was slowly beginning to really piss him off that everyone seemed to talk about him behind his back, but no one said anything to his face. His mom was oblivious to that fact, as was made apparent by the quizzical look she gave him when he glared at her and Ray. Ray, however, caught on to Ja- son's emotions and thoughts. "Jason, we've only been discussing where you should talk to the police, in which room you'd be most comfortable. I sug- gested your room. What do you think?" "Umm..." Jason didn't really want to go up to his room again. Reason number one was that after the episode with the doctor he'd feel majorly uncomfortable; reason number two was that his room was, in his opinion, too small for all those people squeezing in there. The third reason was that the sheets on his bed were still unchanged. He'd be nervous all the time that one of them would discover the mess. "Umm...I'd suggest the living room or the kitchen 'cause I really don't want all those people crammed into my room. And I really don't want any police in my room. It just makes me un- comfortable. Is it okay to use the living room?" "Yes, I guess so." The situation from a few hours ago was re- peated, as the room fell silent, with Jason studying the table and the three others studying him. Jason's mother worried that he would be overwhelmed by the interrogation and she was just short of reaching out to stroke his hair. The doctor looked at him in confusion; pondering the 'why?' in his head and his in- ability to explain the situation robbed him of the ability to speak or even think clearly. Ray, however, paid close attention to the emotions on Jason's face. After a while, Jason, irritated, looked up, glaring at the faces of the people watching him. Both his mother and the doctor looked away instantly, but Ray held Jason's gaze until a smile spread on the boy's face. That smile vanished as soon as the doorbell rang. Jason sank back into a kind of silent shell, seemingly un- interested; however, there were enough thoughts spinning around his mind. The policemen stepped into the kitchen, politely removing their hats and greeting the three. They were followed by Jason's mother, who had opened the door. Both were men, which struck Jason as odd as he had expected at least one woman. He imme- diately disliked the older one, who seemed like the typical big- oted asshole, although that was only Jason's subjective first im- pression. After a few seconds he only looked bitter and uninter- ested in Jason's case. He was probably about the same age as the doctor, maybe a bit younger. He was definitely polite, but something about him, something he emitted, made Jason dislike him. Contrary, he found the other man to be nice. He was about 20 or 25 and was pretty sympathetic and caring, not like this was simply a job he had to do. Jason liked him. Ray noticed this and silently considered how to lead the interrogation to such a posi- tion that the young officer would ask the questions. However, he knew from experience how these interview usually went and he had a bad feeling about this, as if he already suspected that it might not work the perfect way for any of the involved parties. "Good afternoon. I'm Detective Revell. This is Detective Candice. We are here to interrogate Jason Matthews as part of the investigation of the fighting that took place at the local highschool. Is Jason Matthews present?" The older officer had nearly barked those few sentences. "Yes, I am." Jason replied, much quieter than the detective and annoyed with the tone and the way he had asked the question. One short look from the detective followed as acknowledge- ment for the answer, but Jason was literally being ignored, and now looked upset as well as annoyed. His expression was no- ticed by the younger detective, who then smiled at Jason to calm and reassure him. It worked, as Jason smiled back, and in doing so, he missed some words from Detective Revell. Jason looked at the others with a confused expression when he noticed them watching at him expectantly. Detective Candice, sensing that Jason had no idea what they wanted to know, helped him out immediately. "We want to know where you want the interrogation to happen, who you want to have present next to Detective Revell and me. Probably your mother, I think. It's not in the rules, but I think it might be good in this case." "Umm, do I need a lawyer or something like that?" "No, boy, this is pretty much an informal interrogation. It's not necessary to have a lawyer. Of course, if you want one, we'll have to set up a new appointment." "Uhh, no. But does my mother...have to be present?" Jason's mom gasped audibly upon hearing those words, not having ex- pected it at all. On one level she was really disappointed and sad to be sent away by her own son. In immediate reaction to Jason's question, surprised looks were passed between the two detectives and the two doctors. None of them had expected such a reaction and none of them had experienced it before. So, while everybody in the room was stunned, Jason looked plead- ingly at the two policemen, shifting his eyes from one to the other. In silent agreement they made their decision. "As mentioned before, there are no real rules. Usually, as long as you are only a witness, a parent is not required to be there. If you want it that way, no, your mother doesn't have to be pres- ent. "I will be there, though." Ray said, getting approval from the policemen. They had discussed that beforehand. Jason had no problem with that. "So, Jason, where does the interrogation take place?" "I've decided on the living room. Is that okay?" "Of course, we'll go there, then." The detective gave the others a slightly questioning look, asking for permission or maybe waiting for an interjection. No word was uttered and the four proceeded to leave the room, with Jason leading them into the living room and offering seats. Jason was visibly nervous by now, almost shaking. His eyes darted around the room, but he willed himself to be calm and not totally pushy. He managed to do so because his feelings were not obvious to the detectives, and even Ray didn't com- pletely get the picture. Jason now felt like the accused as he sat across from the two policemen. Ray sat off to one side, more a silent watcher than an active participant. Jason felt alone somehow, and became more nervous when the detectives didn't immediately start, but first arranged their things, such as a tiny tape recorder, paper and pencils, and some files. "May we record the interrogation?" the Detective Revell finally asked. "Sure, no problem." "Good. We will start then, if every one is ready?" Everyone nodded, and the detective pressed the red button on the recorder. "Jason ,we only want to ask you a few questions. That's why we are doing it here and don't have to interrogate you at the po- lice station. The recorder here is only to make our work a bit easier, so that we can concentrate on the questions and don't have to worry about writing everything down. Other than that this is very informal as we are really only investigating right now. That does not mean that honesty and completely truthful statements are not important. Do you understand this, Jason?" "Yes, sir." "First some general questions: your complete name?" "Jason Andrew Matthews." "And when were you born?" "April 22, 1982" "Where?" "Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada." "But you didn't live there all that long, did you?" This was the first time Detective Candice had spoken. Jason hadn't seemed to be very tense during those first few questions, but the detec- tive thought he could maybe lighten up the conversation. Jason, who had been concentrating, visibly shook when the question came. Not because it was bad, but simply because he hadn't ex- pected it. "No. We moved here pretty quickly, I think." Even the older police detective looked somewhat distracted by that question. "Umm, yeah, let's get back to the topic at hand. Jason, which school do you attend?" "Mountain Pointe High School." "Can you remember last Thursday?" "Yes, I can, sir." "Could you maybe tell us everything you can remember about the day?" "Well, I went to school like I always do. Well, not quite. Usu- ally I go there with Tommy, but that day I had to go alone." "Why didn't Tommy go with you that Thursday morning?" "The day before, on Wednesday, our first day of school, I had told him that I'm...gay." The young detective interfered. "Is that a good reason for not walking to school with you anymore?" "Umm, no?" "Whatever." The old detective took over again. "What did Tommy say when you told him about your homosexuality?" Jason really didn't like the way Detective Revell spoke the word 'homosexuality'. He was clearly one of those people who thought being gay was disgusting and wrong. But that question was nevertheless the point when Jason considered what to tell the police. He had two options: tell the police Tommy's real words, and they would come to suspect that the fight had been Tommy's idea. Maybe they had already suspected it at that point, but Jason could definitely reinforce it, if he chose to take option number one. Option number two would be to lie to them and make up some reaction that is not as bad as the real one. Those were his choices: truth or lie, bad reaction or good reac- tion, let them know Tommy was the one or let them believe something else... "Tommy reacted okay, I think. Surprised. He said he'd have to think about it and then he left." Both detectives looked sur- prised now, if not unbelieving. They'd laid out such a nice the- ory already, but that sentence by the kid had destroyed it rather completely. Detective Revell looked at Jason questioningly, al- most suspiciously, quietly challenging the truth of Jason's statement. Jason stared back at him, hoping to be convincing enough to make the detective believe him. It worked. After a bit of sorting through his questions, crossing out a few, adding some notes to others, the interrogation continued. "Did you talk to Tommy again after school, or maybe call him?" "No, sir." "So, on Thursday you went to school without Tommy and without knowing what he might think about you. Is that true?" "Yes, sir." "Was there anything special in the morning when you arrived at school? Anything different?" "No, not really, not at first, but then from the lunchbreak on I guess it was. I felt that people started to act somewhat weird around me and whisper behind my back...or so it felt. So I guess they knew that I'm gay." "So Tommy told them." "Umm, I don't know. Maybe it was somebody else. It was not like we were that alone when I told him." "But could it be possible that it was Tommy." "I guess so, sir." "So the people only whispered behind your back and looked at you weirdly? Nothing else?" This time Jason didn't like the tone of the detective at all. It was said in a mix of "Now that is not so bad" and the "What do you expect when you're queer! Be happy they didn't beat you up then and there!". It was that kind of tone which he hoped not to hear today, and it made him angry...although he probably was really more upset than angry, remembering exactly what it had been like in the halls. "Only?! Have you ever experienced that? Have you ever felt that the whole school is staring at you? Heard all those whispers of that fucking school motto: purpose, pride, performance. Pur- pose, pride, performance. All the time, everybody passing you, whispering that in your ear. Reminding you of that, haunting you. YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT IT IS LIKE!" Jason had jumped up and looked almost ready to pounce on the man. All the tension that had built up over the past few days, the insecurities that had, up to now, resolved themselves by crying, came to the surface. Now the solution was anger. Ray reacted fast and caught Jason's hand in a firm grip before he could hit anyone and led him out of the room, nodding at the detectives. They had talked about that possibility. He led Jason upstairs to his room, silencing his mother and reassuring the doctor with one look. They had come out of the kitchen to see what the shouting was about. The shaking boy could barely walk any more, having arrived at his room. Ray half-carried him to the bed, laying down next to him and holding him while his anger turned into a crying fit. Jason needed an hour to pull himself together again, to get his thoughts in order again. It felt good to be held by someone, and by a man for that matter, even if it only was some psycho-guy. He definitely had no sexual feelings for Ray, but it felt good that a man who was most likely straight had no problem with being close to him. When Ray felt Jason calming down, he slowly detached himself from the boy and looked at him questioning. "Are you okay now?" "I don't know...yeah...no...yeah, I guess. I'm sorry I reacted like this. Please believe me, I'm sorry." "You don't have to apologize. The way he asked that question was completely unprofessional. I didn't know he would be like that. Do you still want to continue the interrogation or do you want to set up a new meeting for tomorrow, or maybe next week.?" "No, now!" Ray looked surprised by the forcefulness of the an- swer and because he didn't quite expect it. "Do you really want to continue this today?" "I really want this over with, so yes." They got up from the bed and Ray straightened out Jason's slightly wrinkled clothes. Jason returned the favor. They both giggled a bit and left the room. As soon as he saw the stairs in front of him, and the door at the bottom of the stairs that led into the livingroom, he tensed again. Ray placed his hand on Ja- son's shoulder and whispered soothing nonsense into his ear, which calmed him a bit. The two entered the room where the two detectives were still waiting. Jason sat down again across from them and mentally prepared himself for the questions and for the apology he still had to give. He didn't like it one bit, but it was necessary. "I'm sorry for having acted like that and shouted at you. Will you please accept my apology, sir?" "Of course. Let's get started again. Where did we leave off? Ah yes, the reaction of your fellow students. So they only stared at you at first?" "Yes, they did. And they let some words drop here and there, but nothing I shouldn't have expected, I guess." "What exactly did they say?" "Well, that pride thing I already mentioned. And then stuff such as: 'You have to die, faggot!', 'See you in the lockerroom, sissyboy!', 'Make sure you have your asspussy ready for us!', 'Hope you're good, cocksucker!' Stuff like that." "But their behavior changed at one point, didn't it?" "In a way. I guess it didn't like change, but it got worse." "When was that?" "I noticed it when I left the school building." "What time would that have been?" "I don't know. Probably about 3:00 PM." "Could you tell us what exactly happened from then on?" "Umm, I stepped out and there were a lot of people around. I though it was somewhat unusual. There was like a quarter of the student body. I think. And I started to go in their direction 'cause simply, I had to go through there to get to the gate. I guess they had planned it like that. And the nearer I got the louder and nastier their comments got and then I was somehow pushed, I think, and then they kicked me or something, I guess..." "You guess?" "Umm yeah...sir." "Can you tell me who pushed you?" "I have no idea. I'm sorry." "What are the facts that you remember for sure? 100%-sure, that is." "That it was after school, that there were a lot of people and that well, that I somehow got kicked. The next thing I remember clearly is waking up in the hospital." "You are sure you can't remember any faces?" "I'm sure." "But there must be something you can remember! Some detail, some voice. There must be something you remember that will help us detect who was there. Think about everything again now, boy!" That's what Jason did, although unintentionally. He knew it made no sense to think about the situation to possibly find out something new, simply because he really did know who did it, but those words reminded him of that scene. He again had those faces in mind, those voices, taunting, insulting, and all these lit- tle details the detectives so desperately wanted to know. He even remembered that Tommy's sneakers had been red. He clearly remembered the expressions on the faces of the three, as it was forever beaten into his mind with their kicks, but he didn't want to talk about that. Not here, not now, not ever again. He did not want any of those people harmed or arrested. He just wanted to forget these happenings and get on with his life. Al- though something like that would be damn near impossible. And yes, he was aware that it is illegal to hold back such infor- mation. He did it nevertheless. "No, I can't remember anything else. I'm sorry I can't be more of a help." Detective Revell looked somewhat annoyed now, having hoped to make some development in their investigation by talking to the victim, but obviously this youth sitting across from them didn't know all that much either. The only one left who could give them some information was their main witness, who had been there and obviously had something to say. He was proba- bly being interrogated in the school at exactly that moment. Revell shortly considered prying for information, but regarding Jason's near-breakdown before, it would be quite irresponsible. He nevertheless tried asking again from a different angle. "Do you know who called the police or the ambulance?" "I was told it had been Mark...but I didn't see it myself." "Okay. I guess we will leave. Thanks for providing some in- formation. If necessary we might come back to ask a few more question. Other than that, goodbye." Revell nodded to Candice to get up and follow him. Detective Candice smiled again at Ja- son. "Goodbye." "Goodbye." said Ray and Jason in unison. The detectives left the room and Jason and Ray remained inside for another minute, with Jason's mother and the doctor impa- tiently awaiting their return in the kitchen. "You okay?" "Yeah, I'm alright." "Let's head out?" "Sure." Jason followed Ray out and the two were greeted by the information-seeking face of Jason's mom just outside the room. "Jason, what happened in there? Are you okay? What did they ask?" Jason more or less ignored his mother, not wanting to answer that question. "I'm okay Mom. Look, can I go out for a while? I want to clear my head..." "Oh well, Mr. Kirkpatrick can go with you." Jason's Mom in- terrupted. "...Plus I want to go alone." "Don't you think there should be someone with you in case one of those 'situations' happens again?" "Mom, I'm not a dog that needs to be led around on a leash." "Jason..." "Mrs. Matthews, it might be positive for Jason if he goes out on his own. He'd have to do it anyway sooner or later. You can't keep him inside forever or send him around with somebody taking care of him and protecting him." "Well, if you say so..." "Mom, I'll definitely be back for dinner. Don't worry about me." "You know I will. Take care, baby." "Sure. Bye Mr. McDeere. Bye Ray." "Give me a call for a meeting again, okay Jason?" "Sure." Jason quickly looked down at himself and tried to decide whether he was dressed appropriately, and decided yes. He went out the door and stood there, enjoying the feeling of being outside again and feeling the sun shine down on his body. Fi- nally.