WHILE SOME OF THE EVENTS DESCRIBED IN THIS STORY ARE FICTIONALIZED, SO I CAN RETAIN WHAT'S LEFT OF MY SANITY, MANY OF THE EVENTS HERE ACTUALLY HAPPENED AS DESCRIBED. YOU SHOULD KNOW BEFORE YOU CONTINUE THAT THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC ACCOUNTS OF CHILD ABUSE AND VIOLENCE, AS WELL AS DRUG USE BY TEENAGERS. IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED, OR IF THIS KIND OF MATERIAL IS ILLEGAL FOR YOU TO READ, THEN PLEASE, STOP NOW. IF YOU HAVE ANY COMMENTS OR SUGGESTION, YOU CAN EMAIL ME AT JKEELE777@YAHOO.COM. PLEASE INCLUDE THE STORY NAME IN THE SUBJECT LINE, SO YOUR MESSAGE IS NOT FILTERED INTO THE JUNK PILE! IF YOU ARE, OR KNOW OF A CHILD IN A SIMILAR SITUATION, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! CALL THE POLICE. CALL SOCIAL SERVICES. DO ANYTHING, BUT DO SOMETHING!
SORRY THIS CHAPTER HAS TAKEN SO LONG, GUYS - I HAVE BEEN VERY ENCOURAGED BY ALL OF YOUR EMAILS! MY WORK SCHEDULE HAS BEEN ERRATIC, TO SAY THE LEAST, BUT I WILL TRY TO GET THE CHAPTERS POSTED MORE QUICKLY! THANK YOU AGAIN FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT!
ALSO GUYS, PLEASE REMEMBER THAT NIFTY.ORG IS FAN SUPPORTED. WITHOUT YOUR CONSTANT SUPPORT, WE WOULD NOT HAVE THIS WONDERFUL, DIVERSE COLLECTION OF GAY LITERATURE. PLEASE GIVE WHAT YOU CAN, WHEN YOU CAN, AND I PROMISE TO DO THE SAME.
JEREMY
Chapter 7
Ben knew he had to find Jeremy, and he had to do it fast. His talk with Joe had scared him. As he was driving around, he found himself in front of Jeremy's old house. He nearly hit a parked car when he noticed that there were lights on in the living room. When he got out of the car, he heard someone yell out "JEREMY, WAKE UP! COME ON, MAN, DON'T GO TO SLEEP! I'M SORRY!" He immediately called his Dad and asked him to get there ten minutes ago. Like, right now. As he climbed the steps, the front door flew open, and Kevin ran onto the porch, stuffing something into his backpack.
"I called nine-one-one," Kevin yelled over his shoulder as he ran to his car, "I can't stay. I don't want to go to jail. I'm sorry! I thought he could handle it! I didn't mean to hurt him!" And with a squeal of rubber and a cloud of tire smoke, he was gone.
Ben ran into the house and saw Jeremy on the living room floor, and he immediately thought he was too late. When he got his phone open, he was surprised that it was ringing before he even touched it. He hit speaker, and his Dad's voice filled the room.
"Ben, what's happening there? A call just came across the emergency channel for an ambulance there for a heroin overdose. Where is Jeremy?"
"Dad, I think he's dead. He's not moving, and there's a needle in his arm. One of his friends was running out of the house when I got here, and he was crying and yelling that he was sorry. You have to help me, Daddy, I'm scared. I don't want him to die!"
Since the fire station was only a few blocks away, the ambulance pulled up just as Joe's car slid sideways to a stop in the front yard. He beat the medics to the door and grabbed Ben. "Son, I need you to go sit in my car until the police get here. I love you, and we'll try to help him, but I don't want you to see this."
Ben walked outside and sat in the open passenger door of his fathers unmarked police car and cried like he did when his mom was sick. He just couldn't believe that this was happening again.
In the house, the paramedics had quickly determined that it was, indeed, a heroin over dose, and got to work. As they opened the package with the shot of adrenaline, Joe felt nauseous. He watched as the needle struck home, through the breast plate and into the heart. For a sickening second, he thought that they were too late, that he would have to watch this boy, who he had quickly begun to think of as a third son, get a sheet pulled over his head in this dusty house that he had spent so many years surviving.
Without warning, Jeremy yelled out and sat straight up. "WHAT THE FUCK?" Jeremy yelled, and then dropped back onto the floor, breathing hard. "Kevin! Where's Kevin? What the fuck is going on? Who the fuck are all you people? What happened?" He was yelling at the paramedics, the police, everyone in the house.
"You need to calm down, son. You could still be pretty sick. Just lay back down, and we'll talk to you, OK?" Joe said softly. "What's the last thing you remember, kiddo?" he asked, his arms still wrapped around Jeremy to keep him from moving. He was talking softly to the boy to keep him calm, telling him how glad they were that he was alright, and how much they wanted him to come home.
"Well, I remember Kevin saying that he had something to help me with the pain in my ribs and my arm. I ran all the way over here this afternoon, and I forgot my pain pills. I think I might have hurt my ribs again." He looked at Joe and asked if he could sit up. He was getting dizzy again. "Then he told me to trust him, and he gave me a shot of something. It made me kind of sick, and then really warm, and then you stabbed me with that thing" he said, pointing to the adrenaline syringe on the floor.
"What did he give you a shot of, son?" the medic asked. "Did he tell you?"
"He called it tar, I think. I was brown and it smelled like ketchup." Jeremy told him.
"OK, kid, we gotta take you to the hospital. The cops are gonna want to talk to you, but don't be scared of'em. Tell'em the truth, but don't be scared of'em." With that, the burly medic picked him up, put him on the stretcher, and rolled him out the door.
When I woke up again, I was in a hospital bed, with yet more strangers surrounding me, all shouting instructions. "What's going on?" I asked. All of them stopped talking at once, and just stared at me, slack jawed. "Am I dead or something? Why are you all staring at me like that? Do I have a monster behind me?" I couldn't help it. I laughed at them like an insane person. Maybe I was a little insane. Maybe I still am. Who knows? As soon as I finished my laughing fit, I could see that no one else thought it was even remotely funny.
"As a matter of fact, you were," the nurse closest to me replied, with more than a little shock still on her face. "For about the last five minutes; this is the third time since they found you."
The doctor next to her looked at me with a mixture of disgust and pity. "How long have you been a junkie? How long do you think you can keep this up before you die, smartass?"
I was shocked into silence for a brief moment. "Hey, doc. Fuck you, you smug bastard. You don't know a fucking thing about me. For your information, asshole, I've still never even seen heroin. Someone I thought was my friend was trying to help me out, because I've been taking pain pills after being nearly beaten to death, and I lost them. I was in pain and he thought he was helping. I'm definitely going to kick his ass if I ever see him again, but until then why don't you shut the fuck up and get out of this room. Send me a doctor that isn't such a holier than thou fucking prick. And don't think for a second that this isn't going to be reported to both your boss and your licensing board. Now GET THE FUCK OUT!"
Of course, the cops that wanted to talk to me picked this exact second to walk in. "Hey, kid, calm down, would ya?" the smaller of the two men said softly. "He's going to be OK, now, right?" he asked the doctor.
"Well, you can talk to him now, but he isn't leaving here. We're keeping him for at least three days under a psych hold," the arrogant doctor sneered.
"Really?" the cop smirked, "what basis do you have for that? You heard the explanation of the overdose. He wasn't trying to hurt himself or anyone else. He's obviously not a habitual user; you can tell that just by looking at him. So you plan to lock him down here because he called you on your bullshit? Is that what I'm hearing? Believe me dick, I mean, doc you don't want to do something like that."
He then looked at me and said "All we need from you, kiddo, is the name of your supposed friend. And then, if you don't mind, I'd like to be there when you talk to the hospital administrator. He can tell you how to file the complaint with the medical board, but I can help you file the complaint to him."
As much as I didn't want to, I spilled everything out. I told them about Kevin, and what I had seen and remembered from the house. I still felt sick, and I was exhausted, but at least I was alive. I'm pretty sure I was asleep before the cop even left the room. When I woke up again, it was morning, and I was alone. When I pressed the call button, a nurse appeared with a friendly smile on his face.
"Good morning, bud. How are ya today?" He talked to me like we were old friends as he walked around the room, opening the blinds and checking the monitors and machines.
"I need to know where my stuff is," I told him. "I need a couple of phone numbers out of my wallet."
After he handed me my wallet, he left the room, promising to bring back breakfast and something to read.
As soon as I had used the restroom and washed up, I dialed Jim Carter's office. When his assistant answered and I explained who I was, she put me right through.
"Jim," I started, "How are you? I have a couple of things that I need to talk to you about., if you have time this morning."
"Of course, I do, kiddo. What time and where do you want to meet?"
"Well, right now, I'm at Lewisville Memorial again. It's a long story, but I'm OK, and I should be out of here this afternoon. Can you come over here this morning?"
"I think I have some time this morning. I'll come over there in about an hour, OK? What room?"
I gave him the room number, and asked him to bring the paperwork from the bank and anything I needed to sell my parents' house. After our meeting, I was officially homeless. There had already been a cash offer on the house, so it was sold the minute I signed the paperwork, furniture and all. Of course, Joe had said that they wanted me to come back to the Forster house, but I wasn't sure I could do that. Not after what had happened with Ben, and certainly not after what had happened at the other house. Once again, I had no idea what to do or where to go. Being fourteen was not turning out to be as easy as I thought it would be last April. Here it was, only five months later, and my entire world was a wreck.
As I lay there that day, wondering what to do, I heard some noise in the hall and my door flew open so hard I thought it might actually come off the hinges! Before I knew what was going on, Ben was in the bed next to me, crushing me in a bear hug. I loved it, and it definitely appeared my mind was made up about where I was going, but I couldn't breathe!
"OH MY GOD!" Ben cried. "I'm so glad you're OK! I thought you were dead when I saw you just lying on the floor!" After that, it took a few minutes for him to be able to speak again. When he raised his head off my shoulder and stared at me with those emerald eyes of his, I lost it, too. We sat there for a few more minutes, crying quietly over what might have happened, and almost had. When I looked up again, he was staring at me. "I love you, you know. I was so scared, Jer. Don't do that to me again, please? I love you."
I was shocked. As he lowered himself back to the bed, I kissed him softly on the neck and said "I love you too, Benny. I don't know what's going on with me right now, and I can't promise you that I'll always do the right thing, but I do love you, and I don't want to lose you, either."