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 5
"It's A New Life, For Me" 

Dateline: Tuesday, May 28, 2013, 10:00 A.M.,
Manny narrating

Cliff and I drove to the hospital again the next day, and Mrs. Brown was just arriving as we drove in.

"Shall we see what the doctor has to say?"

Doc. Magellen walked into the room immediately after we did, and told us: "He has suffered from heavy handed physical abuse in the last few weeks, and there is some evidence of sexual abuse that appears to have started about year ago. We have tested him for STDs. It looks favorable, though all the results are not in yet. In general, he recently has been bruised a lot and has not eaten well for several months. He needs to be on a good, healthy diet to build his overall health back up. We have taken samples for DNA reference, both from him so a potential parent or family match can be verified, and from remnants of recent sexual abuse. The Michigan Department of Health Services will be copied on that information, should they or the police choose to follow up on it."

"Why would they not follow up?"

"Budgets. It costs a lot of money and there are so many cases like his, and even with a conviction, the perpetrators can still walk in a few months."

"Mrs. Brown, is that the case here?"

"Why would we follow up when we could get someone to take care of the kids for a lot less money?"

"Yes, that makes it easy for you but allows it to perpetuate. The perpetrators can continue to have more victims. Why even have your Michigan Department of Health Services Child Care when you don't care about the children? Oh, yes, job perpetuation...

"I will have our investigative team locate the perpetrators, and present the evidence in court so your people do not have to waste their precious time or money to actually solve a problem."

"It does provide jobs. And when a child is abused they were probably asking for it. He may even be a low life homosexual." Said the same tone she would use for a curse.

"That last statement could be untrue and is certainly uncalled for. You should have the statistics in your office, where most sexual abuse is by a relative and normally a heterosexual coupling. And is that's all it is to you, a job? As I said, you don't give a damn! You have just proven that. Is a job more important than the welfare of the children! No wonder Mrs. Incarbo-Vermillion wants to have a place that will take excellent care of unfortunate young people until you and your department start using real concern and care for all young people!"

I know saying that may make her less cooperative, but my concern is for the welfare of the unwanted young people, not the pleasing of an old stuck-in-the-bull-crap pseudo-Christian. If necessary, I will take it up the ladder in her office all the way to the head of the State office, and legal means if required. I made a mental note to myself to have the top department head present during the upcoming meeting and have questions about policy written out for that person to answer on a video recording.

Back to her, calmly: "As we have said, no child will suffer any abuse, sexual, physical, or mental while in our care. Correction, if needed, will be by level headed, safe, spoken only dialogs, with caring adults without anger, that treat the kids as more adult than their age implies. Allowing the young person to say what they want or need to say, in a process that leads to good behavior without punishments and is not aggressive in the least. Never, ever, the eye-for-an-eye shtick from the bible! Best, gentle hugs to provide the security all children need to feel!"

We went into his room, and he was lying on the bed, in his hospital gown.

"How do you feel this morning?"

"Sore."

"Doc, what is allowable to provide for him until the pains fade away?"

"Child size aspirin should take care of it, but only if he needs it."

"OK, James, we have some new clothes here for you. Do you want us to step outside while you dress."

"Not James! My name is JT! You adults are all biggety, trying to make us young-uns conform to your ways! Do I gotta let you do me, too?" I noticed tears beginning to form. His hands were on his hips, almost in fists, even though he remained laying on the bed. He still had obvious problems from his past abuse.

"No, JT. That abuse will not happen again." I said very gently.

"Cliff and I have, and do, each other, exclusively. We have no interest in kids for sex. We really like kids and will not mistreat them, or you. May I give you a hug?" That brought out a tiny smile. He nodded and held out his arms to confirm the hug so I hugged him. Cliff also hugged him.

"Good, thanks, those others were bad. The beatings were the worse. May I get out of this place now? I can dress myself, I'm not a little kid."

"OK, let us know when you're done." We stepped out.

"Mrs. Brown, initially I must say that he was really needing those hugs, even though I noticed you were frowning when I did it. He may have as many as he wants of them or kisses, from either of us or the future staff. Also, we will pay all of his expenses so the state does not have to. And that applies to all the future residents of our expanded home. I, as Helen has for years, refuse to use tax loopholes to reduce taxes."

"That is good of you." She said in a reproaching tone, and her body language canceled out the 'good' in that sentence. "While I don't agree with either of you being a parent, there are lots of young people no one else wants."

"If they are not already badly damaged by homes or institutions that beat them into submission, we can care for them and allow them to become useful, undamaged citizens. Even some of those who have been beaten can be helped with loving physical and emotional care. Those who have been where they learned and continue with major bad behavior, will not be around the decent kids, to infect them as bad examples. If there is a chance they can be brought back to being normal kids, we will work with them to achieve that. We will expect them to behave well, with rewards, and no adult will deliberately do anything harmful to them in our care."

"We have a lot of bad kids."

"Let us consider and discuss what could be done, short of the abuse of extended juvenile detention, which often makes them hardened criminals. For now, I suggest we build a separate dorm space for them, just like the ones we build for regular kids, except individual bed rooms rather than two to a room, and two care givers with advanced training and who use loving care rather than any punishment techniques. And I'm willing to bet that many which you and other fostering parents call bad kids are not bad, just in a bad situation, and reacting the same way you would! We do have a policy that those kids who want or are willing to do various tasks are rewarded. That is the same concept as the state paying you to do your job, and provides them a good basis for a future life as an adult. We also do not allow anyone to cheat anywhere, to prevent the bad example it is."

Just then, we noticed JT standing in the open door. "What's taking so long? Let's go. I ain't no bad kid!"

"Hospital rules say that every patient has to be taken out in a wheelchair. It's to protect the hospital from a lawsuit in case someone gets hurt as they are leaving." A male nurse was just walking up pushing one.

"I ain't no crip!" While he got checked out at the desk, and I paid his bill with my credit card, he wanted to know where we were going.

"So where is this place you are taking me?"

"It's a farm near the lake where they tossed you out of the car."

"Where is that?"

"It's called Woodward Lake, and it's Northwest of Cadillac, Michigan, the city where this hospital is located."

"Woodard? Are there lots of trees there?"

"Yes. There are two lakes in Michigan with similar names, Woodard and Woodward. Woodward Lake is a different lake that is about seventy-five miles South of here."

"Two lakes with the same name? How does anyone find anything?"

"They are different, Woodward and Woodard." I emphasized the middle 'w'.

"Big frig'n diff." JT snorted, with his arms crossed over his chest.

We left the hospital, and had JT sit up front so he could see things. We went to get him two pairs of shoes, a pair of work boot so he could walk around the farm and not get hurt or dirty, and galoshes for wet weather. We also got him long underwear, a warm jacket, gloves, and a hat with furry ear flaps. We let him pick out more shirts and pants, both dress and work styles. I also picked up a wireless intercom system with multiple stations, and added a cell phone with a camera for him on my plan.

As before we entered the house bringing JT home, Ranger came over and sniffed, then began a tail wagging, tongue licking welcome, with an occasional "arf" of welcome. JT grinned, and knelt down to pet him, and Ranger put his paws on his shoulders and gave him doggie kisses. He followed James, I mean JT, around 'like a puppy', from that point on, so we really knew who Ranger belonged to. We also noticed that he was livelier and more active when he was with JT. 

James Leo Toro was now at home with Manny, Cliff, and Ranger. Somehow it seems as if his name requires some form of defining word after it, like 'the third', 'III' or something, but I knew he was a common, everyday type of kid who could never be that pretentious.

"JT, do you want to pick out a bedroom for yourself?"

"Maybe. You got any guys my age 'round here?"

"There are a few within a couple of miles radius. We haven't met all of our neighbors yet."

"So I gots'ta walk for miles around and check every house to see who everybody is?" Again challenging us.

"No, Mrs. Heloise Van Drake, a retired social columnist and our local friendly, social busy body, organizes get together for the neighborhood. Want me to call her to do a kid's picnic?"

"Yea. I missed the last one 'cause someone took me to get fixed up and stuck with needles. All I wanted was to find a decent life without 'those' people ... I 'spect I'll have nightmares about what they did."

"You are safe now. Do you want a woman to come here and help take care of you?"

"Not if she's like the last three, them’s mighty mean. That child care woman is almost as bad. They all kept hitting me or screaming at me. And the men kept using me."

"That has ended. It is all in the past. What you will get from us is love, which is not sex. And we will do our best to mitigate the social worker's arrogance."

"Mit-a-gate? Like a fence?"

"No, it means to reduce the effect of or the outward appearance of."

"Good. Let me hide in my new room when she is here!"

"We will have lunch soon. Do you want to explore the house and pick a bedroom while you are waiting?"

"Yea. Where's the tarlet? Out back? Gots'ta go." Obviously he spent some time in the Ozarks. Luckily he wasn't using Ozark speak all the time or we would have barely understood him.

"This way, down the hall on the right. And Manny is preparing lunch, so wash your hands afterward. And we call it a toilet, not a tarlet." Cliff told him and is taking over the narration for now while I'm making lunch. He did his visit to the toilet.

I showed JT the rooms, as we, along with Ranger, made the rounds of all the rooms while lunch was heating. JT picked out the middle room along the upstairs hall. Manny rejoined us,

"Your toilet is a lot better than those old, smelly, wood tarlets out back. No splinters, and it smells nice until ..."

"The fan will take that away. Is there something about this bedroom that you like better than the others?"

"Yea, the wallpaper and the bed cover have the Hogwarts Express Train from the movie."

"Did you enjoy the movies?"

"I only got to see the first one, on TV, but I did have a friend, briefly, who had a model of the train."

"Well, kiddo, you are in luck. We have all the Harry Potter movies on DVD, and you'll get to watch them."

"Wow! Do you think maybe I could get the Hogwarts Express Train? I would shore like that."

"Sure, as long as you are a nice guy." Notice I did not say behave or good  which have connotations relating to obey.

"I will be! Double Wow! Thanks for giving me a new chance." That reminded me of the song "Feeling good" performed by Michael Buble and others. I told JT I would play it when we went down for lunch.

"Guys, if we don't get to it, lunch will be cold."

We went back downstairs and into the kitchen and had sandwiches from warmed over meat loaf and fresh veggies and a side salad. I played the song while we ate.

"That song fits me. 'It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life, for me, and I'm feeling good!' and you guys are doing it for me! Thanks.

"And this food is like Mom used to make for us. Meat loaf, potatoes, and poke salad. I had to crank the grinder for the meat I would hunt for in the woods. Like I had lots before the mean people."

"We use beef and pork which we grow here and on George's farm. Did you mean a salad in a poke, or poke salit?"

"Yea, you silly, biggety, Yankee. Poke's a paper bag. You gots'ta wanders outside and pick the good leaves for poke salit."

"You do know that the 'poke salit' plant is mildly poisonous, don't you? It also doesn't grow in this cold climate. We do grow our own vegetables when the weather cooperates. It's just starting to get warm enough for some. We then carry the salad makings in a basket, not a bag. So no more poke salit for us."

"But there were lots of other good ones. Looks like I gotta order some seed for you ta gets the right vegetables. Or do ya got 'em growing wild?"

"We avoid using seeds from Monsanto. Most of their stuff is genetically modified, and may have unknown dangers. These that we grow are all good for you, and have been grown by our families for generations, and we save some from each crop to dry into seeds for future planting. Some of the one's down south don't grow well here, with our cold winters. We will go out and see if you find any other that you like, provided they are not poisonous. We can get lots of Morel mushrooms and other varieties, in the spring. We do have to be careful around some plants like poison ivy and similar plants." 

"That's 'cause you'ns been citified. Thes'ns be northern Yankee vittles. And we have those poison plants back home also."

"Yes, and you will get used to us damn Yankees soon."

"Hey, just 'cause I tawk funny sometimes don't mean I'm dumb or ignorant."

"Yea, but it is kind of humorous sometimes. We don't have a problem with it, but some of the kids in school may tease you."

"Then I'll have to whip some Yankee boy butts." He grinned at that, then frowned. "Not like they did to me!" We both hugged him again.

"When we get these dishes cleaned up, we can go check out the farm, and show you our vegetable garden." The three of us worked on the dishes, and we made sure JT knew how to clean the scraps off the plates, rinse and put them in the dishwasher and start it. We wiped the table and the counter off, and swept the real wood floor.

"'Bout time we gets to go out and look around! Should I wear those shit kicker boots?"

"Yea. There are lots to show you. And some words are OK here on the farm with us, but don't say them in front of the ladies." We went out and showed him the utility sheds. "This shed painted brown is for the lawn mower, snow blower, shovels & rakes, and instruments of mass destruction. No, not that last phrase. That was 'Alice's Restaurant Massacre' by Arlo Guthrie. Which was way before your time, I only know about it because my dad played it a lot. It was a humorous draft protest song around the Vietnam war."

"Our garden is over there."

"That's huge, way bigger than we need! I 'spose you want me to weed all of that? And what's that lean to I can see through?"

"That is our greenhouse, with glass walls, for growing vegetables in the cold seasons. There is a root cellar on the other side of the house and a compost area. The garden is organic, so no pesticides or herbicides. Also no genetically modified vegetables until they are proven to be safe and contain no bad chemicals. You will be eating lots of the veggies and fruits, so it's nice of you to volunteer. As far as size, we exchange vegetables for meats with our neighbor, Mr. George Galenhat, and some goes to feed the animals. That land the other side of the fence in back is ours and is part of the spread George uses for his cattle. He has lots of milk cows and raises steers for meat. Cliff works for him part-time during the day and manages our pig lot and chicken coops here on our farm. Let's go over and check them out. We, along with George, add food grade diatomaceous earth to the animals' food, and the grains we store, as a natural non-poisonous pest control. It is safe for animals and people, yet effectively kills bugs with exoskeletons."

"Hey, this is some like the place down home where I was still a kid, only we did just enough for us. I helped feed the chickens and gather eggs. They shore do peck at you, almost as bad as the nurses with their needles."

"How about we show you the way we do it and then you can help by gathering the eggs."

"As long as I don't get pecked."

"We have a half acre area where the chickens can roam free, making them range free, and they pickup the tiny rocks they need to digest their food. They also get insects, grubs, and worms for protein that way, so it's a natural pest control. We toss their feed out in the roaming area, then wait till they get out there and close the coop off from the roaming area, and then we pick up the eggs. And we have some good pig leather gloves we can wear in case some sitting hens don't go out. In the spring, we let them set on the eggs so we get more chickens. After we've gathered the eggs, we then open the gate again and put the eggs in the refrigerator. We do have a rooster, so watch out for him."

"And over here is our swine pen. They have sleeping areas, roaming areas, feeding areas, and a water pond that does get muddy. As you know, pigs are not dirty, they wallow in the pond to cool off. It's deep enough for them to cover themselves. We just have to keep sufficient water in the pond. It sinks down through the ground, filtered, into the water table."

We then went into the orchard, where we grow apples, peaches, and other fruits. We picked some apples for the horses.

"OK, JT, one more place to show you." We went to the stables, walked in, and around the front of the horse bays. "Come meet them, and bring that poke of apples. Are you afraid of horses?"

"No way, man. That's a plastic bag, not a poke! Keep it up, man, and I'll have to give you a poke in the eye."

"No, please, I'll behave." I covered my eye with my hand, and hugged him.

"Gotcha, didn't I?"

"Just for that, no dessert tonight. Now, hold an apple up for each of the horses, one at a time. This is Sir Donahue and he's my horse." JT was familiar with horses, and knew how to hold the apples to not get bit. He also petted them.

"Next is Jamie Girl, who is Cliff's."

"Does that mean that Cliff is the lady of the house?"

"No! Cliff and I are both husbands who just happen to be a couple. And we have lots of women around, so you and many other kids will be very well mothered. And with our horses, we have a few more that were tame strays who were starving during the winter. People during the last recession could not afford to feed them, so they let them loose. We gathered them up, and have been able to get them back to health. We have checked with the previous owners, and some would like them back once they are working again. There are a few that have either moved away or still can't care properly for a horse. We have kept their hooves up, and had our vet check them all out. We have a spare saddle. Want to go for a ride?"

"Yea, I haven't done it since ..." I saw tears form in his eyes and I hugged him.

"Come on, guy, let's ride, and remember 'It's a new life.', and if you want, we'll listen to your story about it while we ride."

"Can I ride this one?" It was a white Arabian about two years old, and was one where the owners have moved away and never responded to our notice. We also notified the local animal registry.

"Yes, she has a lot of spirit, which should match you well. If you do well together, we'll let you keep her as your own."

"Awesome! I got'sta thinks of a nice name."

"Let's ride down by the lake." As we were going, TJ began talking.

"Last time I was on a horse, back home in the Ozark's, I rode away from the house for an hour or so. I thought I smelled smoke, and figured I was gettin' too close to someone's still, and I turned back. When I returned, the smoke smell was stronger, and then I saw the house. It was just a pile of charred wood, still smoking. The sheriff took me back to town, and they put me into a group house where no one wanted me. I never found out what happened to my mother, and I've been given to at least a dozen male/female married couples, and all preaching' damnation while they was mean and hitting me. Yea, that stuff too. At least now I'm with two nice men who are taking good care of me and say they won't do those things. So it really is a new life. Thanks for saving me from those c'rist'ns. They was worse than the demons they always talked about. 'costals, they called themselves."

"Pentecostal?"

"Yea, they sounded crazy most of the time, said it was speaking in tongues. Sounded more like demon speak to me."

"We won't let them types bother you. There are some around here also. Would you want to go back to visit where you grew up? Perhaps see if there is anything left. More than likely the property the house was on is now your property, if your mother died. We need to find out what really happened."

"Maybe, but I don't want to live there."

When we got to the park, we stopped for a bit, let the horses drink, and looped the reins over the lower branches of a Maple tree. We sat down at a picnic table, and JT was looking at the horses, and admiring his new one. 

"I want's ta' call her Maple Stirrup!" That got a neigh out of the horse, and a nudge on his shoulder when he went to pet her. JT petted her, smiling.

"Yea, great name, a maple tree, a beautiful white horse, and you, stirring up trouble? JT, you are just what the two of us need. An intelligent young man who knows what he wants, and is making sure he gets it, with just a bit of good parental help. And just enough indignation to assure you get what you need."

"Let's head back and get some supper." We went back, and JT showed us how well he could groom a horse with a curry comb.

We walked into the house to start supper. JT piped up with "Wow! This place is neat. It's going to be fun living here." I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and gave him a quick noggle.

"Well, maybe not as much fun if you keep doing that. The hug's OK, not the knuckle rub."

"OK, JT, I'll not do it often. But I will still hug you a lot. We want you to like living here and feel right at home."

"That's for sure." Cliff said, he hugged JT, then hugged and kissed me.

"What? No kiss for me?" JT injected.

"That was a public partner kiss, not a friendly kid kiss."

"Well, I'm waiting!"

So Cliff and I both hugged and kissed him. And after watching the second Harry Potter movie, we kissed him good night while tucking him in bed.

Early the next morning, the tranquil peace and quite of the country side was disturbed by some unusual, disturbing noises, metal shearing, screams....

Author's notes: Thank You to Gerry Young for his excellent editing. Author's often miss things, remembering what we wanted to write, and fumble fingering into something else. And he encouraged me to include pictures and even pointed out what I had missed there.

Mesick, is a town (It's not me [or you] sick, even if I am). It's just a few miles further Northwest along M115 from Woodard Lake, and calls itself the Morel Capital, and Traverse City (the Cherry Capital), about 40 miles North holds the annual the Cherry Festival. Also, along the highway between Cadillac and Manistee are lots of berry farms, with raspberries, blackberries, black-caps, and lot of other varieties on thorny bushes. And strawberries are grown in the vicinity of Bear Lake as well as other places, along with the swampy areas that have lots of wild blueberries.

Back in the summer days of my teen years, I would go to my uncle's farm near Bear Lake, and pick strawberries alongside of Mexican itinerant farm workers and locals. I also worked for one summer at a packing plant that cleaned and packed fruit in 30 pound round tins with sugar, froze them, and shipped throughout the states and Canada. What I loved about that work was lots of male eye candy. Yes, all the potential puns are intended.

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.