This story is entirely fictional, and any resemblances to actual persons are completely coincidental. Actual locations are mentioned, and are used for 'background' only.
'Phalen - Finding Happiness' Chapter ten
by Roy Reinikainen
"You love him, don't you? . . . Mr. Kelly . . . Brad." Larry perched on the corner of his desk studying his secretary for a moment before answering. It was unusual for his secretary to spend much time in his office, but today she seemed to sense his need to talk, and had brought him a cup of coffee, savoring her own while he thought how to answer her question. She looked up, arching her eyebrows in query.
Larry shrugged and then grinned at her exasperated expression. "I don't know, Jan. I want to, but I'm afraid of letting myself love anyone . . . after my ex-wife, Helen." He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. "At one time I thought I loved her." He softly snorted, looking into the dark coffee. "What a mistake that was."
"But Brad?" He shrugged and then held up his fingers, separating his thumb and forefinger by only a fraction of an inch. "I'm this close to committing myself. If he gave me the slightest sign of encouragement, I would devote myself to him."
"He seems devoted to you. I've never seen anyone look at another person . . . like that." She set her coffee cup and saucer on the polished tabletop at the side of the sofa.
"He is devoted, up to a point. There's a wall that he's unable, or unwilling, to climb over. I don't think he'll be able to commit himself to me . . . to anyone, until he's able to move past that."
"A previous . . . partner," she asked. He nodded, not meeting her eyes.
"He still cares for him. They lived together for four years. At his age, four years seems like an eternity." She gave him a rueful grin and a slow nod of agreement.
"I won't let myself fall in love with him, Jan. I don't want to be hurt if he leaves. When Helen left Phalen and me, I was . . . glad, but strangely enough, I was also hurt." He heaved a sigh. "Then there was Andrew." He glanced at her. "Mr. Johnston." She nodded in recognition.
"That parting was painful too. He loved me. The feeling wasn't mutual. He's a wonderful person, but I didn't love him. I'm thinking that maybe Brad feels the same way about me. Nice, but not the right one. When I was married, I waited for eighteen years for . . . something. I knew what I wanted, but I wanted my son to grow up with both a mother and father. Now, I find I'm waiting once again."
She sighed and looked out of the windows, past him. "Pretty tough thing to do, isn't it? . . . Waiting, never knowing if your dreams will come true?" He glanced in her direction, wondering at her wistful tone of voice. "Sometimes, our dreams don't work out the way we would like . . . but we go on." She blinked away the moisture from her eyes and gave him a sad grin.
"You will work things out. With Brad . . . or someone else. You deserve happiness." She suddenly brightened. "What about Mr. Halonen, the attorney across the lobby? He seems like a nice man."
"He is." Larry smiled. "The funny thing is, he's interested in Andrew." Jan's eyes widened.
"Are you trying to play matchmaker, Jan? That's not like you."
She smiled. "I guess, maybe. I want to see you happy, Larry." He glanced at her in surprise. In all their years together, he couldn't recall her ever using his first name. She looked around the office.
"This place is not conducive to making anyone happy. You don't fit here. I don't fit here. The place is soooo depressing."
He looked around the office for a moment. "I know what you mean. Perhaps this place is at the root of my feeling of melancholy. I don't know how much longer I can stay here, Jan. If they knew about me being . . . gay, I would be out of here in a heartbeat."
"I . . . have been offered a position at Mr. Halonen's office, across the lobby. A partnership, actually." Jan smiled brightly and raised her eyebrows. "It's a fall back position. But, there's you and the support staff to consider." She held up her hand to prevent him saying more.
"Larry, I'll follow you . . . anywhere." She daintily cleared her throat and looked away. "The staff will as well. None of us like it here. We stay because of you. You treat us like human beings. If you leave and go next door, every one of us will follow . . . if you'll have us."
Larry swallowed around a lump in his throat, moved beyond words by the loyalty of his staff. "Thank you, Jan. It's good to know how everyone feels . . . how you feel. I . . . uh . . . it means a lot."
"So," she said, standing up and reaching for his empty coffee cup. "You make contingency plans with Mr. Halonen, and I'll do the same thing with everyone here. I'll make copies of all the files for your clients, and stash them away. I'll also let the staff know to be ready to walk away at a moment's notice." She turned half-way to the door. "Will Mr. Halonen's firm take us all in?" Larry nodded.
"With open arms. Better benefits and a raise in pay, even." He smiled at her expression.
"Well then. What are we waiting for?" She smiled brightly. "Let's quit this joint and go where we're allowed to smile. That'll be one less thing weighing on your mind. Then maybe you and Brad will be able to settle things between the two of you."
The man in the grey pin striped suit pushed a bottle of blood-red capsules across the table and gave Dustin a puzzled look. "This isn't the type of stuff you normally want from me. Are you trying to kill someone?" He closed his hand around the bottle before Dustin could take it, waiting for an answer. "Is that what this is for?" His eyes flicked to the bottle. "If a person doesn't know what they're doing, that's what this'll do." He gave Dustin a searching look, and lowered his voice. "I want customers who continue to come back to me, not a corpse. A one-time sale doesn't do me any good in the long run."
Dustin grabbed the bottle the moment the person sitting across the table from him released it. "No, I'm not trying to kill anyone. I just want something that'll get someone in deep trouble when it becomes clear where these came from." He held the container up and shook it a couple times. "I want to ruin someone. The other stuff you've got for me is for my regular customers. They'll continue to pay good money, especially since we're increasing the potency of what they're buying." He snickered, thinking of the two members of the university baseball team who now sought him out on a weekly basis. "The fools."
He handed an envelope with payment and was handed two more bottles in return. He dropped the smoldering butt of his cigarette into the cup of coffee, resulting in a sizzle and puff of acrid smoke and then pushed back his chair. "Thanks man. I'll see you next week. If you hear of a doc at the athletics clinic getting in trouble, you'll know I was successful." He smiled and walked out of the restaurant. The man in the pin striped suit watched him leave.
"You're calling someone else a fool," he murmured before digging in his coat pocket and pulling out a cell phone.
"Did the recording come through?" He listened for a few moments and then smiled. "You're right," he spoke into the phone. "He's digging himself into a deeper hole every time we meet. Do you suppose he'll lead us to his major suppliers?" He listened for a few more moments. "Yeah, I know, but I hate undercover work. I'd much rather wring the little bastard's neck and be done with it."
"Hey Carl!" Dustin jogged up to the man who turned to see who had called his name. "I've been looking for you. How's the arm?"
"Yeah, I'll be okay. Just won't get to play this year. What luck! I'd been working out all summer, now all that work has been lost . . . down the tubes." He glanced once more at the offending cast and the strap which immobilized his arm. "They didn't tell me how long to expect the pain to last. It hurts like hell and they weren't willing to give me anything strong enough to really let me get some sleep." He made a face and exclaimed. "Doctors! If they were in pain, they'd sure as hell do whatever it took to stop it. It's the rest of us that have to suffer." He gave the shorter man a puzzled look. "Do I know you?"
"Nah, not really. I work at the Athletics Clinic. I was on duty when your buds brought you in. Someone else was brought in while the doc was away from your room. She was bleeding pretty bad, and he had to deal with her since we were short staffed that day. Anyway, you were taken away by the ambulance guys before the doctor could get back to you with the pain pills he promised."
"He had a nurse come in with something for the pain before the ambulance arrived. You mean he intended to give me something more? They gave me something at the hospital before they let me go, but I'm afraid of taking too much of it. I don't want to become hooked on anything, even if my arm is hurting."
"Yeah, well, the doctor figured the hospital would give you the potent stuff, so he asked me to bring you these." He dug the bottle of pills out of his book bag. "He told me that these will lessen the pain without some of the nasty side effects of the stuff they hand out at the hospital." He handed Carl the unmarked bottle of pills." Carl examined the bottle.
"What are they? There's no name on the bottle. How do I know what I'll be taking, or how often?" Dustin shrugged.
"I don't know. All I know is the new doc asked me to deliver them to you whenever I next saw you. I would guess you can take them like aspirin, or something. Whenever you hurt, pop a couple and you should be feeling better in a couple minutes."
"You sure?" Carl gave the bottle a skeptical look.
"Hey man, I'm just the messenger. The new doc, you know, the one with the funny accent, he just handed me these and told me to give 'em to you. I'm not a doctor. I don't think you can even ask him since I heard somewhere he was being replaced or something." He shrugged. "Probably doing something illegal, or something. He seems the type."
Dustin glanced at his watch. "Well, I gotta go. Remember, what the doc said. If you hurt, take a couple pills. You'll be feeling good in no time." He smiled and walked away.
Carl watched the small blond man until he disappeared among the students. He held up the unmarked bottle of pills and examined them for a few moments before stuffing them into his book bag. He hefted the bag to his good shoulder and grimaced at the pain in his immobilized arm.
'I'll take a couple of those pills as soon as classes are over.'
Phalen sat on the bench in the locker room and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. The coach had put them through a harder workout than usual today. 'I guess he must be upset about losing Carl, our star pitcher, before the season has even begun.' Whatever the reason, Phalen was exhausted enough to consider asking Jeff to fire up the sauna. 'Maybe some heat will make my muscles relax.' He winced as he flexed his arms and decided to sit quietly for a while longer.
"Hey." Phalen opened his eyes, thinking someone might be talking to him, and then closed them once more when he realized guys in the next aisle of lockers were talking to someone.
He recognized Carl's voice, answering questions about how is shoulder was doing. After a moment, he wished his friends a good day, telling them he had to get home to get something to help ease the pain in his shoulder. The guys were quiet until Carl's footsteps faded and the sound of the locker room door closing, and then burst out laughing.
"Tough break, Carl," one of the guys snickered, and yelped when his friend must have elbowed him. "He looked like he was in lots of pain. Sorta all pale. Maybe he should go to the new doctor in the clinic. I hear it's easy to get some pills outa him. All a guy's gotta do is ask, and he hands the stuff out like candy."
"Did Carl tell you that? There are two clinics on campus, y'know. We're assuming the new doc is in ours. He could be in the regular student clinic, for all we know." Phalen remained quiet and listened feeling slightly guilty for eavesdropping. The mention of a new doctor at the clinic handing out pills like candy made him wonder if Greg knew anything about a doctor doing stuff like that.
"Who cares which clinic he's in," the other player said. "I've heard about him from a couple people. Seems he was supposed to be working for one of the big hospitals, but they found out he had a record of some sort, so they exiled him to the clinic while they investigate everything." Phalen could almost see him shrug.
"Who knows? All I know is that since Carl has been seeing him he looks so doped up I'm surprised he can feel any pain."
"Y'sure this new doc is the same one Carl's seeing? Is he the one who's been getting our stuff for us? I mean, Dustin told me the other day that I had the new doc to thank for the increased potency of what we've been buying."
"I hope whoever he's getting stuff from continues to come through. I don't care if it's the new doctor or what. The other week when he was a day late getting to us, I thought I was gonna go crazy. The coach even noticed."
Phalen remembered the coach pulling one of the guys aside and grilling him about what was wrong. "I told him I was sick." The guy's friend barked a laugh. "I was," the first guy continued. "I need those meds!"
"Easy man. I know what you mean. But things are cool. Dustin says the new doc understands. I guess he's angry at the medical system or something. Who knows? Dustin seems to be in pretty tight with him though. I guess that's good for us."
"Yeah, I guess. Sometimes I feel like bashing Dustin's teeth in for getting us started." There was a long pause. "The little wimp. If I didn't need him, I'd knock his teeth down his fuckin' throat. I hate that stuff he smokes."
Two locker doors slammed and Phalen listened as the guys walked away, leaving him in a locker room whose only sound was the steady drip of one of the nearby showers.
Jeff looked up and stretched slightly to look over the computer display. Greg raised a hand and smiled in greeting.
"Mita kuuluu?"
Jeff leaned back and stretched. "I'm fine, thanks. What's happening?" He motioned his brother into the room and scooted a chair over to him with a nudge of his foot. "You don't look so great though. Are things okay between you and Curt?"
Greg turned the chair around and sat down, leaning forward and resting his folded arms on the chair's back. "Yeah, things are fine. He's wonderful. There is something I'd like to speak with you about though."
Jeff rotated his chair to face his brother, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. "Okay, I'm comfortable," he grinned. "What's on your mind?"
"Jeff, something's happening, or has happened to you. It's like everyone is aware of what it is, but me. Something you said the other night has been hounding me. I can't get it out of my mind. I have to ask."
Jeff licked his lips and looked away from his brother for a moment. "About me returning to my old ways?" Greg nodded.
"What does that mean? Are you okay?" Jeff sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"I am now. A year ago, I wasn't." Greg studied his brother closely. "Phalen, Larry, a good psychiatrist, and a lot of friends, especially Brad, stood by me until I'm able to function as a human being. Without them, I don't know where I'd be right now."
"What was wrong?"
Jeff massaged the back of his neck, giving him a moment to think. "Greg, first, I have to have your promise . . . sort of like a doctor-patient relationship-thing, that you will never breathe a hint of what I'm going to tell you to Mother or Dad. I mean it, Greg. Not even a hint. Can you do that?"
"They don't know anything?" Jeff shook his head.
"No, and it would kill them if they did. They would live their lives filled with guilt. After all the years they've been married they've finally fallen in love with one another. I don't want to be the reason for any finger pointing or feelings of guilt." Greg closed his eyes and thought a moment.
"Phalen knows?" Jeff nodded. "Larry and Brad?" Another nod. "What about Curt?" This time, Jeff shook his head.
"No. I'm sure Brad would not have told him anything. They were dealing with their own problems at the time."
"It's nothing that will run contrary to my medical oaths? I take those very seriously." Jeff shook his head.
"No, nothing like that."
"Then, I can do it." Jeff nodded once, bowed his head for a moment and then nervously ran his fingers through his hair.
A half hour later, Jeff finished his tale of childhood sexual abuse at the hands of a couple elementary school teachers. He told the story as dispassionately as possible, making an attempt to ignore the growing look of horror in his brother's eyes. 'Don't pity me, Greg. I don't need your pity,' he thought when he had finished and Greg continued silently staring into the distance.
Finally, Greg leaned forward and rested his head on his forearms which remained crossed on the back of the chair during the entirety of Jeff's story. He was silent for a long moment, slowly shaking his head from side to side. "Oh shit," he finally said in what could only be described as a groan. "My brother too."
"What do you mean . . . too?"
Greg rubbed his hands over his face and let out a slow breath. "The other night, Phalen and I had a conversation. Not about you," he added quickly when he saw Jeff's initial reaction. "About me."
"Oh, Greg, not you too." Greg swallowed and shook his head.
"No, not me, but it might as well have been. I've been scarred by the same thing that happened to you." He ran his fingers through his hair, a trait Jeff only now realized must run in the family. He recalled his father doing the same thing every time he was upset. "I told Phalen the rest of the reason I have . . . difficulty . . . with sex. The difficulty with relationships is solely mine. It's part of my make up. I have to feel as if I'm in control of whatever situation I'm in. Forming a relationship . . . sex . . . everything, is rough on me because I feel as if I've given up control. I'm a mess. I'm so terrified of something happening over which I have no control, I can't perform. I lose my erection, and then the ridicule and laughter I faced the few times I did make the attempt prevented me from trying again. Going out with Curt has been wonderful, but it has also been one of the most frightening things I've ever done. I keep thinking that at any moment, something is going to happen that will make me retreat back into my shell." He took a ragged breath.
"If that were all that's wrong with me it would be bad enough. But there's more." Jeff leaned forward and bit his lip, aware of the difficulty his brother was facing in telling him this story.
"The rest happened in med school." He took another ragged breath. "Jeff, I've always thought of myself as strong." He shook his bowed head. "I found out pretty quickly that I'm not."
Jeff listened as his older brother, the brother who had always seemed so in control of his life, stammered out the story of encountering a young boy who had been abused by his father and who had walked to the hospital, leaving his father drunk at home.
"So, you see. You and I are more alike than we ever realized." He looked at Jeff with a penetrating gaze. "You could have been the little boy who cried on my shoulder that night." Greg choked as he tried to continue. "I . . . I was able to take some of the physical pain away and give him a person to hold on to. Other people had to help him emotionally. The thing is, I was able to do something for him." He choked and covered his face with his hands. "I never was able to comfort my own brother." Jeff tentatively reached out a hand, hoping to stem the feelings of guilt Greg was experiencing. Suddenly Greg looked up.
"Were you ever hurt? Did you ever need medical attention and not get it?" Jeff shook his head.
Jeff slowly withdrew his hand. "No. They were rough. They may have thought they were gentle, but I was so young and small, they seemed rough. They never left marks though. The only marks they left were up here." He pointed to his head.
"Greg, it's not your fault you didn't know what was going on. Mother and Dad didn't know either. No one knew. I know I was wrong not to tell anyone, but I thought I could handle things." He bowed his head. "I never knew how awful things could get if they're kept bottled up. Everything remained pretty shut up until I met Phalen and attempted to have sex. I still haven't been able to have anal sex with me as the bottom. I still can't bring myself to do that . . ."
"Damn!" Greg quickly stood, sending the chair scooting across the office. He began to pace, waving his arms, shouting. "I knew those teachers. I thought they were good people! I thought all teachers were good people, just like all doctors. If I had known what they had done to my little brother! I . . . I . . ." He paused, his entire body shaking. "I don't know what I would have done, but I would have done something!" He paced to the far end of the office and then abruptly turned back.
"Shit! I am so angry. I'm angry at those fucking perverts. I'm angry with the system that didn't care enough to watch out for you. I'm angry with myself for not being a better brother to you. Hell, Jeff, I knew you suddenly became all quiet, but I thought it was just you. I had no idea. I should have asked." His eyes flashed. "I should have done something."
He turned away and then suddenly looked back at Jeff who watched him from across the room. "I'm angry with Mother and Dad. They had to know something was going on, and yet they did nothing to help you. They couldn't have been so wrapped up in their own lives that they couldn't have realized you needed help, whether you thought so or not. You were only six years old! How could you be expected to carry this on your shoulders." Greg put his hands on his hips and stared into the distance. "Right now I hate just about everyone."
"At least, little Essa, the boy in the hospital, was able to get some help. Once we had him patched up, he cried wondering why he couldn't go home to his father. But, at least he was helped."
He sagged onto the office chair. "Here I am thinking I've been scarred because I've seen someone who has been hurt. You and Essa have experienced it. You and Essa are the strong ones. I'm so wrapped up in feeling sorry for myself I've neglected to realize how much worse other people have had things than me." He stood again and crossed the office in only a couple steps.
"I'm so angry. . . I'm so angry. . ." He stuttered to a stop, not knowing how to continue.
"You could scream," Jeff suggested with a trace of a smile.
"Yes! Exactly!" Greg stood in the middle of the office and threw his head back and shouted to the world precisely what he thought. Jeff flinched at the intensity of his brother's demonstration.
Jeff thought he heard the home alarm system beep indicating someone had come into the house. A moment later, Phalen rounded the corner and ran into the office nearly slamming into Greg who sputtered to a breathless stop.
"What the fuck is going on?" He looked from Greg to Jeff and then back to Greg. "I heard the shouting the moment the garage door opened. My friggin' car is still running. I thought you were killing each other!" Phalen seemed to be regaining control of his breathing, and gave Jeff a dirty look for not seeming to be bothered by anything.
"Actually." He turned to Greg after flicking a warning glance in Jeff's direction. "I knew it was you who was shouting. Jeff's voice is a little more shrill than yours." Jeff threw a book in Phalen's direction, which he easily plucked out of the air.
"Good catch," Greg muttered, still upset, but falling under Phalen's calming influence.
"You forget, I'm a baseball player. It's my business to catch stuff." He turned to Greg and then Jeff with his fists on his hips. "Now, would either of you guys care to tell me what all the noise was about?" He looked from one to the other. "Hmm?" He perched on the corner of the desk behind Jeff and began massaging his shoulders.
"What's going on?"
Jeff looked over his shoulder. "I told Greg about my childhood." Phalen stopped massaging Jeff's shoulders and looked at Greg.
"I asked."
"He's much better now, Greg. It was rough there for a while, but he's a strong guy." Phalen leaned down and kissed the top of Jeff's head. Greg took the couple steps separating him from Jeff and pulled Phalen into a rough embrace.
"Thank you, Phalen," he said in a husky voice. "For helping my brother. I'd like to think I would have done something if I'd known. I'm glad he found you." Phalen returned the hug, surprised at how much hugging Greg was like hugging Jeff.
"It wasn't only me, Greg. Jeff did most of the work. Dad and Brad and I were there to listen, but he did the work. He's the one who has overcome so much."
Greg grabbed his brother's hand and pulled him into an embrace similar to the one he had given Phalen. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Jeff. Promise me you'll come to me if you ever need me." His voice cracked. "I don't want to fail you twice." He abruptly released Jeff and began pacing back and forth.
"I'm still angry. I still want to hit something."
"Well, you know what they'd say to a person in your condition back home?" Greg suddenly stopped and laughed, nodding.
"What?" Phalen seemed totally confused. When he didn't get an answer he asked again. "What? What do they say a person should do back home when he's angry?"
Both Jeff and Greg laughed and answered at the same time with strikingly similar voices. "Take a sauna," they said in unison.
"A sauna is the answer to all the world's ills," Greg added. "Didn't you know that?" Phalen shook his head in disbelief.
"Great, just what Phoenix needs, more heat! Just you wait until next summer and see how often you think of a sauna. All a person's gotta do is go outside and stand in the sun. That's hot enough for me." Phalen resignedly headed toward the office door. "I guess I'd better go start the thing up." He turned back to Greg. "The only thing I can find good with a sauna is that everyone is nekkid." He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows.
"Turn your car's engine off first, lover," Jeff urged. "My big brother and I can take care of things, here."
~ to be continued ~
Thank you for taking the time to read my work. I always welcome your email and enjoy hearing your thoughts. If you would like me to send a pic of the character(s), please ask.
In addition to the first 'Phalen' story, I have three other stories you may want to read. 'Leith,' and 'Chris' are located in the Nifty College Section. The third story is called 'Wesley', and is located in the Adult Relationships section. I hope you enjoy them all.
Best wishes,
Roy Reinikainen roynm@mac.com suomalainen_abq@mac.com