A Helping Hand

By: DL
(Copyright 2007 by the Author)
 

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

This Chapter was deliberately held back so that it would be posted – albeit late in the day – on April the 23rd, 2007 – which is St George's Day [the Patron Saint of England, my native country.]

Chapter 12

As Ryan Keith Skipper's 26th Birthday would have occurred on April the 28th had he not been brutally killed on the evening of March 13/14, I have chosen to mark the occasion today as the next posting on this site will not be until May the 1st. Those of you that have found this story since March the 27th may well have read my 'Introduction' – I would point out however, that it has today been significantly altered – whilst those who have followed A Helping Hand from Chapter 1 may have been unaware of its existence: in either event, as the author of this story, I would ask you all to read it again

R.I.P. Ryan – Gone but not forgotten; until we meet.
 

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly and uneventfully, most of the production staff working 7:00 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. [along with my erstwhile and longstanding nemesis, the Production Director; I was aware, btw, of just what his problem was – and still is – he resented the fact that unlike everybody else I did not report to him, but instead directly, like him, to the boss].

Ordinarily I would have stayed until 6 p.m. and then I would have returned and worked alone through the evening/early hours if necessary [this routine was occasioned by the fact that – today being the exception – I usually didn't get left in peace during the day and thus left my own production work for 'outside office hours' when I would be undisturbed]. Today, as I was meeting Julian, I left just after 5 p.m.; knowing as I did from past experience that I usually couldn't escape the building without typically being delayed 15–20 minutes. I was right: the boss detained me for nearly 10 minutes, and it was only by being determinedly noncommittal that I avoided a longer delay.

Nevertheless I was parking outside MFI – the car park was nearly empty – at just after 5:25 p.m. and was both surprised and pleased to see a happily smiling Julian waiting for me. He met me on my way to the store and I greeted him warmly and asked why he was looking so happy, to which he smiled broadly and replied "It's leaving off time on Friday, I'm not working the weekend and my chauffeur has just arrived to take me to my boyfriend's!" I couldn't help both laughing and noticing his amused smirk as he said the last bit and I swiftly replied "So you've spoken to young smartass again this afternoon have you?" and he laughingly replied "Several times".

He showed me inside and led me swiftly towards the bedroom section, pointing out that they had a matching one to that I had already picked and indeed the same applied to the wardrobes. It seemed like a good idea to me, so I said "Fine; and its all OK for delivery on Monday/Tuesday?" and he smirked as he replied "it'll be delivered about 6:00 p.m. Monday; and I'll be getting a lift with it!" I smiled and said "things are OK between you two then?" and he nodded as he went off and returned with the paperwork. It was despatched in record time and just five minutes later he and I were heading toward the car [he had apparently begged an early release and been granted it as he'd notched yet more business from a 'difficult customer': Moi – I laughed as he explained that bit as we walked to the car.]

I asked him if he or Juan had thought about what to do for food and he said they'd discussed it and wondered if I was OK about fish and chips. I said I'd drop him at the Eastgate Fish Shop and turn the car round while he got them if he was OK with that and we set off, I gave him a ten pound note whilst stopped at the Angel Hill traffic lights and duly dropped him off and only had to wait a few minutes after turning round before he emerged.

Neither of us said much on the way home, though Julian certainly seemed to be excited. I had barely pulled in and stopped before he'd hopped out and was streaking for the door – which a grinning Juan was opening as I watched – I had to smile as the 2Js were reunited in a warm hug just inside the door; which they held until I reached them clutching both our food and Julian's bag which he'd left on the floor of the car. As I entered, they parted and Julian reached out and relieved me of the food and his bag, taking them both into the kitchen, while Juan gave me a hug in greeting. I held him away from me and said, mock seriously, "So, what was that in aid of?" he smiled happily and said "I'm glad to see you and I don't want you getting jealous of my boyfriend: we don't have any transport!"

I couldn't help laughing and hugged him back and then turned him round and lightly swatted his rear, saying "Don't be so cheeky!" He giggled, dodging away from me and calling out "Julian, help; Dave smacked me!" I heard a laugh from behind and turned to see an amused Julian watching Juan's antics; he pouted as Julian apparently hadn't responded as planned and both Julian and I laughed at him, and he went all coy and sidled past me and clung to Julian, looking up into his face and saying "I thought you would look after me?". Julian smiled at him and wrapped his arms around him, as he replied "I will, but you were playing for attention and being cheeky and its Dave's place and you should respect your elders while they deserve it."

Julian's response had a strange, but different, effect on both Juan and I. Juan looked hard at Julian, and realised that despite the hug he was being serious; his face dropped and quickly he looked over at me and said "Sorry, Dave I didn't mean anything by it; it was just fun." As this had happened it had hit me what I had realised only the previous afternoon at MFI: Julian was, although only months older than Juan [he'd turned eighteen], far more worldly-wise and mature; I wondered what had matured him so much so quickly.

The thought was a fleeting one, and for some unknown reason – given my hitherto determined avoidance of any display of affection since becoming an adult – BJ* – I held out my arms and as I did so, Julian released Juan and he came over to me and I embraced him in a hug and then held him away from me and smiled, saying "Don't worry about it: we've known each other for less than 72 hours and half of that time we didn't know whether to trust ourselves to the other. We just need time; a point I was trying to make to you only last night."

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*This of course refers to 'Before Juan' and not what some of you may have thought, LOL!

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Juan smiled as I said this and replied "Yeah, I remember; you know you're just like my dad – always going on about the same thing over and over – I'm not stupid and I did get it the first time!" I mock scowled at him, but couldn't manage 'angry' as I replied "What's with the comparisons with your dad? You determined to push to see if I really will spank your butt?" He laughed and said, "No, sorry; I really didn't mean that – knowing that you know my history that really was out of line." he hugged me again as he said it and I clasped him back and then held him away and turned him towards Julian, saying "perhaps your boyfriend can keep you out of trouble while I get some plates and the food."

Julian hugged him and they turned away into the lounge. I went through to the kitchen and retrieved the newspaper wrapped package [oh for the days before we all became anally concerned with 'health' – how many Brits died as a result of eating chips out of newspaper with a greaseproof sheet inside? Not a lot would be my guess]. I got a tablecloth and three plates and took them through with the food and handed them to Julian saying "You set things out while I get the cutlery and salt, pepper and vinegar. You both OK with Diet Cokes to drink or orange juice?" Julian took the tablecloth and spread it with help from Juan while looking at Juan and asking "Diet Coke?" Juan nodded and I returned to the kitchen and collected the cutlery, condiments and three cans of Diet Coke from the fridge [I bet you were surprised I had those, right?] and rejoined them at the dining table.

By now Julian had the plates set out: theirs on the side by the wall and mine opposite them; and had unwrapped the package and placed a paper-wrapped bundle on each plate – we had all apparently got cod and chips. We settled down and quietly set about our food. None of us were in a hurry and time passed while we enjoyed the meal. Julian and I both finished ahead of Juan and just sat idly toying with our drinks while waiting companionably for him to also finish.

Once we'd finished, Julian and I cleared the table and stacked the dishwasher and we retrieved more drinks from the fridge before returning to the lounge. Juan was sitting at the left end of the settee and I asked him if he would move into the middle as I needed to use the phone and once he'd scooted along I handed him the drinks and indicated to Julian he should sit the other side of Juan [not that I think he needed much telling; and he wasn't slow in sitting down and putting his arm around Juan].

I collected the phone and the piece of paper that Juan had written his dad's number on back at the service station and sat down beside Juan. I held out the paper so he could see it and know what I was going to do and as he recognised it, his eyes widened and he tensed up, his body stiffening noticeably – that got Julian's attention in a heartbeat! Julian looked at Juan and then at me; I could see the question and concern in his eyes and I answered as Juan was obviously unable to.

"I discussed this – talking to Juan's dad – with Juan last night, Julian, after I got home and he confronted me about our conversations." As I said this, Julian flushed and hugged Juan closer to him. I continued "I told him that I'd thought about it and felt that there was a chance of maybe getting his dad to see some sense; if I could get past him hanging up. So, as we're all here together, I'll try it; and you look after Juan while I do, OK?" Julian looked inquiringly at Juan, as if to ask him whether he wanted to do this and he nodded slightly, and Julian said "OK Dave."

I dialled the number, secure in the knowledge that as mine was an ex-directory number it was automatically withheld. It rang for 4–5 times this time before Juan's father said "Hello". I didn't waste time on pleasantries, simply saying "Please believe me that you should NOT" – I stressed the word deliberately – "hang up this time until we say goodbye; it's very much in your interests." As I paused, he replied, "Who is this?" I continued, "I have a medical report confirming the severe physical abuse that your son has suffered, if that report were to be delivered to Social Services or the Police you would have some very embarrassing questions to answer. Its important that you realise that such a report could lead to Javier being taken into care in case he also is in danger of being abused." I paused again and there was a stony silence on the line before Juan's dad said "So, you are referring to Juan!" I said "Yes, I am, but I hope that you took in what I just said and that we can have a quiet conversation about this."

Again there was a silence on the line; much prolonged this time – but at least the line was still open. Finally, Juan's dad said, "I have no wish to talk to Juan or discuss him." I replied, "That may be so, but I hope you can see the truth in how this conversation started. I wouldn't like to see your son, Javier, separated from you any more than I like what has happened to Juan. That said, we do need to talk about a couple of things so that Juan can begin his life again. And it's for that reason only – to hold your attention so that we could discuss this sensibly – that I mentioned Juan's physical condition: he has been very badly beaten."

Juan's dad quickly shot back an answer to that "I didn't beat him up!" And I wasn't slow in replying to that "No, that I believe is true, although as I understand it you did slap him several times around the face before throwing him out of his home. The only reason for this conversation is two-fold; you have disowned Juan but while you still legally retain 'parental rights' as his father and legal guardian there is very little he or anybody else can do for him. Secondly, you deliberately denied him the chance to talk to his brother and that hurt him probably more than your disowning him. Furthermore, I'd bet that Javier hasn't been laughing a lot since this happened."

Again there was a silence on the line, this time when Juan's dad finally replied his tone of voice had changed slightly – but noticeably, and he was still talking! – "So, what are you saying? Do you have a suggestion to make; I will not take him back into my house!"

I replied "I didn't think you would; and I also don't believe it would be in Juan's best interests anyway. However, we do need to meet" – Juan's dad started to interrupt as I said this and I over-rode him – "hear me out, please. We do need to meet and get your signature on papers appointing a new guardian for Juan – I haven't asked him, but I will happily do that for him – so that he can begin afresh. As you are probably aware, it all becomes academic in five months time when he reaches eighteen as that legally means in England he becomes an adult and legally responsible for himself. Also, I would suggest that it may be best for both boys that they have the chance to meet and talk – and if they want, arrange to stay in touch – you may not like that idea, but I think you'll find that if you don't you will lose your second son eventually as I believe he won't forgive you."

Again there was a silence; Juan's dad saying finally "I can understand the need to arrange for a guardian for Juan; but I'm not sure about letting Javier see him." he trailed off as he said that and I answered "Well, there's time for you to think on that and watch Javier – I'm sure that will convince you. In any event, Juan has been badly beaten up and it's definitely not in either of their interests they meet until he's recovered. I have to take him back to the doctor's next Thursday and it will probably be the start of the next week before all signs of his beating have disappeared from his face; so that leaves you time to think about it. I would urge you to think strongly about it though."

Juan's dad asked "You say he has been beaten badly, so much so that his face is damaged?" I replied "Yes, that is unfortunately true; I can – if Juan agrees – send you a copy of his medical examination; if for no other reason than to impress on you how damning it would seem in the hands of the authorities. Meanwhile I have Juan here, would you permit him to just say 'Hello' to Javier?" Juan's dad swiftly replied "No, I would not; I will think about him meeting Javier but we will need to discuss that further."

I took this as a positive step; and was also interested to note that there was not a silence on the line, but a muffled discussion and it occurred to me that maybe Javier was listening at the other end and was making his feelings known. And so it proved. Juan's dad said "My son wishes to speak to Juan; I have told him that he may not say more than hello. I will wait to hear from you about meeting to arrange things." I quickly interrupted to say "I will call you again next Thursday after Juan has been to the doctor again."

Juan's dad replied "Very well; I will not talk with him so here is Javier; I will disconnect the call once they have spoken." I looked at Juan and said "Your dad will only allow you to say 'Hello' to Javier" and held out the phone to him. He took it and tentatively said "Javier, I miss you!" and then after a short space of time he handed it back as he broke down and cried, with Julian reaching for him and hugging him to his chest.

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It seems fitting that as it was Hogan's Chapter 12 – a story good enough to be among the few I follow [he can be found in the Hosted Authors' list on this site] – which brought Ryan's death to my attention, that this Chapter 12 (posted so near his birthday) should also be dedicated to the Memory of Ryan Keith Skipper. God Bless.

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To be continued . . .

Feedback always welcome:  dl@tickiestories.us

Posted: 04/24/07