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.