This Old Mansion

By: John Bowling
(© 2013-2014 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 4
"The Park, in the Rain and Snow" 

Dateline: Monday, May 27, 2013, 10:00 A.M.
Manny narrating

Cliff and I were down by Woodward Lake having a fun patriotic Memorial Day picnic with many of the neighbors. We were honoring our troops who gave their lives for this country, often in wars that made no sense.

We had only gotten together with them a few times before, so we didn't really know many of them well yet. We did know George Galenhat quite well, who owned the farm next door to us, and who had Cliff working for him part-time. One of those prior times we had gotten together with the neighbors was a couple of weeks earlier, when we had our commitment ceremony at the park. One obvious fact about the rural neighborhood was that there was space between homes, making cities look cramped and crowded. The township, Selma, had maintained a population close to two-thousand people for years, and most of them were closer to Cadillac around the Northern tip of Lake Mitchell. One point of interest (or not) was that Selma township was established by a Mr. Woodard, and there was already a Woodard Lake in Michigan closer to Grand Rapids, so this one became Woodward Lake. I was sure the post office would get just as confused as I was initially without zip (postal) codes.

There was a small cluster of about two dozen homes around and towards the north end of Woodward Lake, with large lots of a half acre or more. Spread out by several acres, farms with tens of acres, and larger farmhouses and other buildings were farther away from the central area near the lake. Many took up as much as a square mile. Woodward Lake was privately owned, and fishing required a permit as well as a state license. Hunting was not allowed near it due to the residences so close by.

We got a note in our mail box about a get together by the lake from Heloise Van Drake, a neighbor from within that cluster. Yes, the same one who invited everyone to our unceremonious commitment ceremony. Sort of like a private neighborly affair. Everyone had mixed feelings, both damning and blessing her, for that. Cliff and I enjoyed a good laugh when we got back home, and George stopped by to thank us for uplifting the neighborhood.

The affair was planned as a potluck picnic on Wednesday, socializing and some games, get to know your neighbors kind of thing as well as celebrating those who gave their lives for the independence of our nation. We went, and there were only a couple of handfuls of people there. The weather was cool, in the forties. Three married couples with five young kids between them, all under seven, and two families with two teenaged kids each, and the pair of us with no kids and George, single with no kids. It was fun, and we got to know them some, so we all agreed to do it again. One of the neighbors brought out a guitar and began singing "The Star Spangled Banner". Most of us groaned from the rendition, given the less than wonderful singing ability of most, so we all joined in just to drown out the bad singing. We are absolutely nowhere near a tabernacle choir, though together we didn't sound too bad, somewhat like a high school choir of Freshmen in the first week. I could hear a few voices that were good.

Heloise has taken on being a social chairperson for the group, organizing other events that year for the Fourth of July and Labor Day. After the potluck lunch, which was surprisingly good and plentiful, it was fun organizing some games for the younger kids that could be played with the light snow. It was obvious that there were friendships established from the motley bunch of geographically linked people, especially between those not yet adults. And Heloise suggested that we form a choir with those of us who could sing reasonably well, and asked if anyone could provide accompaniment. A few hands went up, so we had six singers and a couple of guitars and an accordion. There were a couple of piano players, so I proposed making a battery operated portable keyboard and PA setup.

The events started at 10:00 AM, and we had some supervised ball games for the kids, when the rain allowed, while the adults set up the potluck lunch. About noon we sat down to eat and talk. It took about two hours for all of us to say where we worked, and what our hobbies were, given how many loved to talk about themselves. Some of the neighbors were very talkative, trying to compete with Heloise. I sure did not remember all of that well enough to link a face with who did most of the more common things, but I did remember a few. And I figured that Heloise would not only remember, but have a written account of everyone, busy body as she was. That would prove useful later, and I would likewise find out later that she was working with the investigative team for the benefit of all of us. She wanted to do it for the sake and safety of the kids. I found out that her previous husband had been killed in one of the many aggressive wars that we couldn't and didn't win, Vietnam, and she became opposed to anything that was not for our defense.

Lunch over, and mostly talked out, we were cleaning up. It had cooled off, so the rain we had that morning was now coming down as a damp snow.

"At least it mostly waited till the end," someone said.

I looked around, and noticed an old, noisy, dilapidated and rusty car pull in off of the highway, that looked and sounded like it could hardly run. After pulling into the parking lot it stopped, and a loud backfire came from its exhaust. With that wake up call, we could hear loud, yelling voices from at least two people. Then a door opened. "Get out, you lousy piece of trash!" And we heard a few thuds and grinding of loose gravel as the car began to spin and skid back out to the highway. Surprisingly, it didn't hit anything they had tossed out.

"Serves the damn kid right! Let's go!" some rough, angry voice yelled out. I looked up and saw a hand waving a beer bottle out the open window, and then toss it out. The door slammed shut, and the car sped off, kicking up gravel and squealing tires after they reached the pavement.

I looked over, and there were a couple of big lumps on the gravel parking lot. I quickly got up and ran over, seeing a dark skinned boy crumpled there with some blood. The snow, then coming down in flurries, melted and kept the blood flowing. He was whimpering and crying. Beside him was a battered old backpack. I yelled for anyone with medical training to come over. Claire had worked as a nurse before she got married, and she ran up. After we checked him over, discovering his problems were not that serious, a few obvious cuts and no apparent broken bones, and he also had bruises and marks from being beaten. Clair suggested that we take him into the hospital and have the doctors check him for things we could not see. Cliff, using his cell phone, took pictures of how he looked lying there.

Another guy I didn't know well jogged over and said: "I'm Steven Miles, of the Sheriff's Volunteer force. I got the plate number from that car that sped out and a picture. I'll email them into the office. When you get into town, please let the police investigators know I sent it, so they can track it down. I picked up that beer bottle, wearing gloves, to have them check it for prints. I'll let the them know you're coming." He handed me a note with the plate number of the car and his initials, along with the bottle in a plastic baggie. You do always carry bags with you, don't you? Steve does, giving his training about situations. He had mentioned earlier that, even so, most of what he did was to remove the trash thrown out by characters like that. He does keep it fairly clear of trash, and we were all grateful for that.

Cliff volunteered to drive into Cadillac to the hospital there, so Claire and I gently picked up the boy and placed him into the back seat lying between us, with his head on my lap and his feet on Clair's, with a jacket to keep the water and dirt off her lap. I held him so he wouldn't fall, and he clung to me, crying. He looked as if he had been beaten, and he was rather skinny from apparent lack of decent food.

"Son, you'll be OK. We're just going to get the doctors to check you over, and then get you a decent place to live. If you want to stay with Cliff and me after that, given that they abandoned you, I have a few spare bedrooms, and you can take your pick. You'll get good food and be well cared for, with no beatings," I told him. "Son, you are worthwhile. Cliff and I will provide you with many of the good things you have missed in the past, with none of the bad stuff, and we will do everything we can to take your pains away."

He nodded, in between his sniffles and sobs. How could anyone do bad things to a child? At least this time he wasn't badly injured, so far as we could tell.

After a careful and gentle, thirty-minute trip to the hospital, even if it was only fifteen miles, some was through town and Cliff made sure his driving was not going to cause more problems for the boy. The doctors checked him over, and could not find any major problems. They were going to keep him overnight for observation. Where he was hurt was not real bad, just some scrapes and bruises, and in a couple of weeks would be fully healed up, though with some scars over top of the previous scars he had. I made a mental note for myself to help him overcome the mental scars he had from his prior treatment in life, including bringing in a psychologist if needed.

George was in the driver's seat, and had placed the backpack on the floor in the passenger's side. After we got the boy in to see the doctor, he checked out the backpack, and showed me a few tattered clothes, recording the sizes. He also had a plastic bag and a small journal with a name written on the inside cover, and several pages had been written on with a boyish script. We did not read much beyond his name, James Leo Toro, and made sure we kept everything for James. The sentence at the top of the first page caught my attention: "Private, keep your cott'n pick'n hands out, you wascally wabbit! JT". A paper envelope inside the bag contained pictures, some of a middle aged woman without makeup and rather plain clothes, half a dozen of him at various ages, and an old log cabin in the trees. Most of the backgrounds were trees, many which grew in a warmer, more Southern climate. It also held a birth certificate, social security card, a bank deposit slip, and a note hand written by someone with poor penmanship and very little education:

"plz hlp jmmy go to skol. me dyng. thkx jne tooro."

It was obvious that the people in that trashy car ignored the note, if they even knew about it.

We contacted MDHS, Child Care Division, in the person of Mrs. Marie Longfield. We discovered that she remembered us from having joined the internet conference with the law firm in Chicago, and had set up a time in her schedule to visit with us the following week. We found out he had been abandoned in Cadillac a few weeks earlier, and then he disappeared. They had no details in their record of him, just a note that a boy of his description had been found briefly. They had no official file with his name, just a red folder among others to be researched.

"Prepare for us to foster him, if at all possible. He'll have good care and a loving family, as if he were my own child. And once the hotel is rebuilt as a care center, he will have lots of potential friends available."

"The law firm in Chicago has informed me of their intentions for you and your partner. I do not feel fully comfortable with the situation, even though they have done a thorough investigation. This area needs a good place where those unwanted kids can grow up and become useful citizens, away from the influences of bad people. Most foster care locations are full, and we have several we've not been able to place properly. It sounds as if it will take some time for your place to be ready." I detected a more than slight note of sarcasm in some of what she said.

"The construction company has informed me that in couple of weeks of warm weather like we had recently, some of the foundations have been dug and concrete poured. We will build some smaller homes to handle current kids, weather permitting, with five bedrooms for four to eight kids, and an approved adult care giver. We want you to be involved in their selection, and will get the reports from the investigators for all potential staff, with copies for you. Also, we will do a home for the elderly, that will be handicap accessible.

"We found this item they tossed out. A battered backpack containing old, dirty, and torn clothes, and these papers." I showed her the bag with the envelope and journal.

"Because you have no real knowledge of him, assuming it is his, we should look at them to see if there is any identification or information about his past. The hospital will take his finger and foot prints, along with DNA, so we can try to confirm this is all his, and who he is."

Mrs. Brown agreed, and, while they were treating him, she, Cliff, George, and I went into the cafeteria and examined the items. The pictures in the envelopes were a couple of which were shots of him a few years ago, and some of a woman who could have been his mother. The journal was a series of paragraphs with dates, much like a diary. The handwriting began as a scrawled script, and later pages became neat and legible. It identified him as James Leo Toro, JT for short. I was sure the diary would give us information about his life in the past, but it was not the time to spend reading his extensive notes. And he may not want it read by just anybody. He did preface most pages with hand drawn, tiny, stars and other graphics, also the statement about the wascally wabbit.

"I'd like to make copies of these papers and pages of the journal for our records about him, and then get the originals all back to you for James to have after we have the documentation we need. I still need to check out your house to make sure it's suitable. We are scheduled in early July to meet with the lawyers and Ms. Helen Oskar Incarbo-Vermillion, at your home. I will call them and have them investigate James' prior family life, and it may be necessary for him to visit his old home area."

"Helen informed me that they arranged for each of us to be approved to foster."

"Well, I will say that I am not thrilled about you both being gay and living together. All kids need a mother as well as a father."

"What happens when a 'proper couple' divorce or one dies? Those are very common occurrences nowadays."

"So not all families are perfect. But you are also homosexual, and that is a negative."

"That is just a biased opinion. So the fact that most of child sex abuses are committed by relatives in heterosexual liaisons makes no difference? Or that the majority of studies of child development have shown there is little or no difference in the development of kids with homo or hetero parents, care givers, or siblings, and it does not influence the child's development."

"That is irrelevant!"

"What about us is not relevant to the proper care of a child? We are a loving couple, including being able to provide loving care to, rather than abuse of kids. Love for kids and between adults is not, ever, sex. Cliff and I are both happy and satisfied with our relationship, with no need to have any kind of sex with others, along with respecting kids as well as adults. I have a question along that line that I request you and your department research: How many of the abused kids coming into the child care system had homosexuals in the family? And how many were abused by heterosexuals? Don't try to guess and assume you know. Do valid research and have real facts to support the results. If you want, the investigative team can assist with it. If you or your department does not want to take that on, I can get the investigators to do it. There may already be a Federal study along those lines.

"Do you want your personal prejudices or religious beliefs to be relevant? How so? It is very obvious that there are opposite sex couples who get married and have kids whom they will abuse and coerce them into not telling what they are doing to them, yet you have and will approve them easily. And some of the most prevalent child sex abuse has been by religious leaders from many denominations, including many that talk bad about others doing what they are doing. I heard recently about a pastor who did multiple rapes of teen boys and girls to 'drive the gay out of them', and according to him, approved by God. Certainly not any God I would worship! No, there are bad religious morals in the Bible, morals that should never enter into child care, especially where the Bible speaks of slavery or killing.

"In the finished care center, we will have a chapel, and allow the kids who freely choose to, to go there when they wish, even if just for quiet time. Also, we will allow religious organizations to have up to three members at the site for two hours a week, in a weekly rotation basis from the groups that apply. Their group will undergo some investigation for approval, and I can assure you that there are a few religious groups that will not be allowed. The kids will be allowed to choose, by their own free will, to go or not. We will have three of our adults present to assure there is no foul play, as with any adult guest who is speaking or there to do repairs, and we reserve the right to deny any future visits by those people or groups who speak hell and damnation or say or do anything to hurt a child. Anything that looks to us like brainwashing, hypnosis, or abuse will not be allowed back. The group need not be officially recognizable as a church, or meet the legal requirements of a non-profit entity. It may also be a group that is agnostic or atheist. It will not include groups whose purpose is political, even part-time, and that will apply to church groups as well. And, I repeat, the kids have to choose for themselves, with no influence, whether they go or not. If a resident does not agree to speaking with any visitor, then that conversation is terminated, including the birth parents and relatives who may have mistreated the child.

"We will make sure none of the kids in our care will have any abuse of any kind. All will be allowed, not forced, to participate in all activities, physical and mental, appropriate for their age group. We will encourage them to engage in discussions about how the home is run, leading to improving things for their benefit, without physical or mental abuse, no beatings or sex. That includes no forced alone time including facing a corner, no solitary confinement, no withholding food, and no inappropriate talk. We will provide lots of encouragement and love available in the forms of hugs and friendliness with no sexual contact or intention. We will have a direct, individual discussion with those who misbehave, coming from a loving attitude. Can you say that all hetero couples are able to give you that guarantee? We also welcome, no warning, drop in anytime, visits from your and other child care organizations, or even concerned parents. We will not, however, tolerate any attempts to physically hurt, or to alter or coerce a child's memory, thoughts, or opinions, by our own people or any visitors, by any means.

"Also, we will have a team of women who are or have been mothers with kids who are well adjusted and productive in society, to be group mothers. In addition, several fatherly men. Some of those will be our neighbors. Some may be moved here from other cities, counties, or states, at our expense. We will have the investigators do background and physiological checks on everybody. That's something that should be done with biological, foster, and adoptive parents, but that could result in many of the kids being removed from homes before they are abused. Probably the best thing that could happen to those kids whom no one knows are being or potential to being abused. We would be willing to help you improve other homes.

"Along with that, I'm going to propose that we have a classes for potential and current parents so they know how best to act and react in situations. Naturally, it will be open to the public and subject to state investigation, but not to control by politicians or groups promoting an agenda. And our school classes will be open to all the neighborhood children."

"I'm the one with the training, and the authority. What about the gay agenda?"

"There is no gay agenda. It is a creation of some specific religious hate groups who use their made up concepts as bullies against gay people."

"I will allow a temporary placement of James due to a major lack of approved homes, and on the say-so of the investigation team from Chicago. But one screw up and ..." Mrs. Brown told him.

"We know your office will be investigating, and will welcome and encourage it. We just will not allow prejudice of any kind." I offered my hand to shake with Mrs. Brown, and she accepted.

Doc. Magellan came in, and informed us: "We have completed checking the boy out. He has been abused, including sexually, multiple times in the recent past. We have also treated him for parasites. You will have to follow-up with this list of things to do to prevent their spread, and care for his wounds. Does anyone have a list of the vaccinations he has had? We may need to update him to the current set.

"He is currently sleeping. We want to observe him overnight. I would advise all new clothes, and if he would be wearing the old ones, wash in very hot water and dry them on the hottest setting. Do not reuse his backpack. This is in case he was exposed to crabs, bedbugs, and other vermin. We will know the results of STD tests in a few days. Also, each of you should take an immediate shower with hot water, and wash all clothes you are currently wearing in the hottest water and dry at the highest setting. His also, including those that will be disposed, so someone else cannot become infected. The papers should be placed loosely in a large, clean, heavy plastic bag, and hot, over 120ºF, dry air gently blown in with food grade semiautomatics earth. The silica in it is tiny enough to get under the carapace of the bugs and dry them out. I have samples for you to use now on the envelope and pictures. We will allow the four of you to use our decontamination rooms with showers for this purpose, while your clothes and his are properly cleaned. We called a pest company to treat the cloth seat covers and rugs in your car. We are doing this as a precaution. Bed bugs are returning, traveling with travelers, and any reduction will help. Also, have this conversation with any neighbors who were around him. You can also use rubbing alcohol to do localized killing of them whenever you see or feel them."

I suggested: "We keep a supply of food grade diatomaceous earth for mixing with our stored animal grains. Let's go do the suggested cleanup and then get some new clothes for him. Mrs. Brown, you are welcome to come out and inspect our house if you wish. Just follow us Northwest on M-115 to the Woodward Lake area. We will go get cleaned up with our freshly cleaned clothes, and leave right after getting him some suitable clothes to wear for when they release him."

We had checked the sizes of the clothes in the well worn backpack, and went up a size in length but not waist. We had asked Claire to see if she could get some measurements. A quick trip to a Target, where we got two pairs of jeans and a pair of nice slacks, two flannel shirts, and a dressy shirt, along with packs of undershorts, undershirts, and socks. We would have to go get shoes when he could go along, but we did get him a pair of clodhopper style shower slip-on, that he could wear now and later in the shower if he choose to do so. Also a pair of tennis shoes. We went back to the hospital, and checked on him. They had given him a pill to help him sleep, and told us we could come back and pick him up the next day. We drove back, dropped Claire off, thanking her for helping out, then went home. We checked the spare bedrooms and replaced the bed linens with fresh ones so he could pick which room he wanted. The three spare bedrooms were all basically the same, upstairs, on either side of the hall, with a full bathroom in the middle. There was also a room that was originally a sewing room which we turned into a computer room for me to do my work. Cliff and I have our bedroom at the end of the hall, with an en suite full bath.

Downstairs, we have a living/entertainment room, a half bath, kitchen, den, and front and rear entryways with coat rooms. They are very much needed in Michigan for storing heavy jackets, coats, and galoshes for outdoor use, given the number of rainy days and how many days there are below freezing temperatures and even as low as forty below zero with wind chill. All windows are at least double pane, and most new ones triple or even quad pane. We also showed her the vegetable garden, the barn, and our livestock pens. Ranger, our pet sheepdog came up, sniffed Mrs. Brown, and decided he liked her, following us to the picnic tables and lay down as we sat. I brought out fresh coffee, and we talked more there. She asked if we were in the habit of being nude around other people.

Cliff answered "We are only nude when just we two are in our bedroom with the door closed, or, if we know we are alone in the house on a day off, sometimes down to breakfast. We wear, occasionally, at a minimum, swimming trunks or shorts that are boxer style, not Speedos, if it is warm enough. We do have a creek running along the back of the property, and a swimming hole there. Normally, though, we wear jeans with underwear and t-shirts."

"How will you hear him if there is a problem?"

"When we pick him up tomorrow, we will get him shoes that fit and an intercom system. We promised he could have his pick of the smaller bedrooms."

"Well, Mr. Darnell. Your house is suitable for Jimmy. I will do a tentative approval. When I am out here with the people from Chicago, I will check on him and see how he is doing. I will also want to check out the Mansion. Ms. Incarbo-Vermillion sounds like the sensible and responsible type, so we shall see."

Authors Note: The people that I would prefer to honor in a Memorial Day like setting, along with the military, are the those whom the government experimented on without letting them know, testing assorted biological and chemical weapons, by many methods including sprayed over cities from planes. They are suspected of continuing to do so, and that is what the uproar about chem-trails is about. Agent Orange was not fully tested, yet was sprayed where troops were ordered to march and fight. Another, AIDS, is one of their created biological weapons they allowed to get loose. How many others ....? If they have a means, they do it, and damn the citizens' rights or the Constitution!

To be continued...

Author's note: A big "Thank You" to Gerry Young for his excellent editing. He eliminates a lot of hiccups my addled mind and misguided fingers smudge onto the page.