Nevermore!
 By: Henry Higgins
 (Copyright 2005 & 2006 by the Author)
 
 The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
 

18--Putting Things Right

I sat in the drab interrogation room of the mall security office, having just been told by a county sheriff's deputy that they knew of my status as a registered sex offender. My guts roiled. For what seemed like minutes, I could neither move nor speak. My heart pounded. Little rivulets of sweat ran from my armpits down my arms into my shirtsleeves. It was a blessing that I didn't have the same problem with my leg-pit. I tried desperately to collect my scattered thoughts. The officer was waiting for me to respond, but I couldn't.

"Mr. Watson?" demanded the officer. His steel-gray eyes bored a hole in me. Below his hat I saw that his hair was cropped so close to his scalp that had he not been in uniform, I would have thought he was a skinhead. I could see his veins pulsing along his neck and temples.

"I'm sorry," I said. "This whole business has me quite upset--I can't think straight. First, Rusty's attack... then, losing track of the boys... Now this... "

"I understand, sir. We'd like to help you with it, but to do that, we need to know exactly what happened in that arcade," said the officer. What made me think that this pig had no way of understanding me--nor any desire?

I saw an opportunity to buy some time. I could repeat my story deliberately and thus grab some time to think. "As I said, I was doing the younger boy's mother a favor by taking her son, Rusty, to the doctor's office for blood work. His best friend, Kenny, came along for support. After the blood test we went for lunch to the diner across the street. A waitress named Delores waited on us. Then we came over here to the arcade. I saw Rusty get into line for the flight simulator and then checked out where his friend Kenny had gone. As I turned back to check on Rusty again, I saw him clutching his throat and heard him gasping. He was staring at the back of the arcade where I saw an exit sign. So I ran over to that door and went into the hallway, hoping that the security office might be there, or somebody else who could help. But the hall was empty. By then, the door had shut and I found it locked, so I couldn't get back in. When I came back around to the front of the arcade, I found the boys gone and became alarmed."

The officer nodded but didn't say anything as he continued to regard me thoughtfully. I stayed quiet as well and returned his gaze. By then, my panic had subsided and I could think a little more clearly. I realized that so far, I really had done nothing to break the law. Well, okay. If someone knew that I, a convicted sex offender, had showered with Kenny and hugged a naked Rusty with an erection, that would arouse suspicion despite the fact that I had managed to control myself in both situations. Still, I could see no reason for that knowledge to become available.

More important, the boys' parents both knew that they were with me. Admittedly, Kenny's father had assumed the worst about Kenny and me and seemed not to care about either of us. And, Betty Simpson thought we were on a short trip. But, I had told Betty something of my background and she still trusted me not to be sexual with her son. These realizations further bolstered my confidence and helped me to deal simply and fairly honestly with the officer.

"Mr. Watson, aren't you worried about being found in the company of underage boys with a sex conviction on your record?"

"Officer," I replied, "I have been incident-free since the situation that first got me into trouble. That is more than fifteen years with no repeat--not even a near miss."

The officer nodded. "We are aware of your record," he said.

I continued, "Even today, I don't go to places where boys congregate. I didn't pursue the relationship with either of these boys. They developed coincidentally. Both boys' parents know of the relationship. I want to be a mentor to the boys. That is the type of relationship that each boy's parent understands to exist--and expects. It is also the true nature of my relationship with each boy." I looked the officer in the eye and felt myself solidly holding my ground. I had spoken nothing but the truth so far.

"I see," he said. “That all sounds good, Mr. Watson. But I know your kind--the sexual attraction that got you into trouble in the first place never goes away. I can’t see how you could mentor any boy without that interest getting in the way. Sooner or later you'd have to cave in to it.”

“I have managed that problem the same way I have managed to avoid further incidents for more than fifteen years,” I said, feeling challenged, but still definitely in control.

The officer continued, “We'll find out whether what you claim is true, sir. By now, each boy should have been tested for the evidence of any sexual activity. With the DNA testing available today, we'll know for sure whether you have been sexually involved with either boy.”

I fought to control my anger at the thought of my boys having to suffer the humiliation of having a swab clinically and impersonally shoved up their rectums, especially Rusty. He must have seen my face redden because I thought I saw him smile ever so slightly. Still, I strove to maintain my calm demeanor. I felt a cold, steely determination that I would not let him intimidate me. By now, I was pretty sure that legally he might be at least a little off base. I hoped that between Rog and his lawyer, we could have this guy’s balls if we ever wanted them. So, I sat silently and held my ground.

“Mr. Watson, it would be a lot easier for you if you would just come clean and tell me what has really happened with those boys,” said the officer just a little too smoothly. "We've had cases where we incarcerated people like you and they wound up being beaten and raped. We try to prevent it, but you know how it is with over-crowded jails and limited staff. There's only so much we can do." He smiled ironically and shrugged.

I sat silently, contemplating my answer. Just then, his radio squawked and he answered it. “Deever here. Yes, I’m questioning him right now. I see. Yes, I can have him there in five minutes. Yes sir. Deever out.”

“Well, it seems that your presence is required in the Emergency Room, Mr. Watson. I am supposed to take you there immediately. I trust that I won’t have to restrain you,” he sneered.

Fear and anger stabbed at me, but I somehow managed to keep calm. Despite the jab, excitement bubbled up in me. I hoped I would be able to see the boys. Regardless of what this shit-head wanted from me, I could at least contact my boys, let them know that I was okay, and see that they were okay, too.

“I have cooperated with you so far, and I'll continue to do so,” I said.

Without another word, Officer Deever rose, stepped to the door, and held it open for me to exit the room, which I did without incident. In the mall security office was another deputy, whom I took to be Deever's partner. He fell in behind us as we left the security office and headed down the utility hall to leave the mall. Outside, I blinked in the brightness as the two officers guided me to a county cruiser and helped me into the back seat.

As promised, the drive to the hospital took less than five minutes. I waited until one of the officers opened the back door and then bent and twisted around to exit the patrol car safely. They had pulled into the drive for emergency vehicles, so that in a few steps, we entered directly into the ER. At the door was another officer who seemed to be a supervisor to the two I had been with, even though he seemed to be quite a bit younger than them. I would have guessed him to be in his early to mid-twenties. This new officer dismissed the other two, who departed the same way we had come in.

"Ah, Mr. Watson. I'm Officer Weintraub of the County Sheriff's Department." He extended his hand, which I shook politely but without smiling. "I can understand your dismay at this situation, but I assure you that all is well. The boys who were in your company are both doing well. And, the younger boy who was having the asthma attack has now stabilized. You'll be able to see them shortly. Meanwhile, a friend of yours wants to see you."

Out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of golden red curls that could belong only to one person that I knew--Roger Hansen. He clapped me on the shoulder, shook my hand, and gave me a big wink.

"Oh, Roger," I cried. "How did you know to come here? I can't believe this! Oh, my God!"

Rog grinned his boyish grin and said, "Kenny gave them my name and they called me--simple! Rusty's stable and Kenny has a mild sedative. Both of them are VERY eager to see you."

I felt like totally collapsing. Moving so suddenly between the harsh interrogation of Officer Deever and the civil (if not cordial) reception from Officer Weintraub, I felt emotionally wasted. I just wanted Roger to hold me and let me cry, as he had done so often in the past. But, my survival instinct kept me upright and proper. Officer Deever's interrogation still swam in my mind. Officer Weintraub and Roger walked me back through the mess of gurneys, monitors, and curtains in the Emergency Room. We rounded a corner and there they were--Rusty sitting up on a gurney and Kenny beside him holding his hand.

"Boys?" I managed to choke out.

"Jim!" they chorused. We three melded into an awkward three-way hug that at that point felt the best I had ever felt. Rog and the cop stayed slightly back to let us have our little reunion in about as much privacy as could be found in that place. We didn't need to speak. In the minute or so that we hugged and sobbed, I knew that both boys had been cared for expediently and with compassion, and that we were all waiting for Rusty's breathing to return to an acceptable volume. Kenny had supplied Roger's name, the medical people had tried unsuccessfully to reach each boy's parent, and Roger had been able to act in loco parentis, given the gravity of Rusty's condition and the fact that he had treated each boy previously. I didn't even question how I knew all of this without words and in such a short time; I just did.

"It's okay, boys, it's okay," I cried as the boys hugged me tightly and sobbed lightly. "We're going to get through this; we're all going to be okay."

Neither boy would let go of me, but somehow I got turned around to face Rog and Officer Weintraub.

"Dr. Hansen has filled me in on the essentials of what happened, so that I think I have enough information to complete my report," said Officer Weintraub. "There are some things we need to go over with you, Mr. Watson, while Rusty finishes regaining his breath. Boys, do you think you could excuse us for a few minutes? We'll be in a little meeting room just off the lobby of the ER. If either of you need any of us, just press the button hooked onto the bed and one of the nursing staff will get us immediately."

Both boys looked dubious, but agreed. I thought, what else could they do? Apparently, both were as relieved to see that I was okay as I was to see the same about them. We stepped back through the ER, through the lobby, and into a small room with a table and four chairs.

"Doctor Hansen has filled me in on the events of the past few days, Mr. Watson," said Officer Weintraub. "It seems that you've quite had your hands full."

I smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, since I didn't know exactly what he was referring to and didn't much want to press him for details.

"Mr. Watson, I'll get directly to the point. Dr. Hansen has told me enough to understand why Rusty had the anxiety attack. We've identified the man who was killed under the truck as a Tier 1 ex-offender with a string of arrests in his history--all of them related to cruel sexual activities with children. We know that he attacked Rusty yesterday and that's probably why the boy had the anxiety attack today when he saw the man in the arcade."

I stared at the man, speechless. He continued.

"Admittedly, you are in a precarious position, given your own background of conviction for a sex offense; but Doctor Hansen has told me enough about your circumstances to suggest that you have achieved a healthy rehabilitation. Through regular channels, you would not be allowed to shelter a boy like Kenny. However, I think we have special circumstances here that might allow an exception."

I couldn't quite believe what I was hearing. My mouth must have been open because both Roger and Officer Weintraub looked at me with curious expressions. I felt as if I were in a time warp. My breathing became shallow and I was slightly dizzy.

"Jim, are you okay?" Rog asked.

"I don't know," I answered. "I just came from an interrogation at the mall that had me convinced that I was headed back to prison for even being in the company of these boys, regardless of what we were or were not doing. And now, Officer Weintraub, you are telling me that my sheltering Kenny may be allowed as some kind of exception? Both of you work for the same County Sheriff's Department, right?" I couldn't see how I was making much sense as I just kind of sputtered to a stop.

"What did Officer Deever tell you?" asked Officer Weintraub.

I answered, "I'm not sure I can remember it word for word, but it was something to the effect that he knows that men like me never can get rid of the attraction to boys that gets us into trouble in the first place, so I might as well come clean and tell him what really happened because otherwise, they would get it out of me anyway."

Officer Weintraub and Roger looked at one another. Some sort of silent communication must have passed between them as Rog nodded his head slightly. Officer Weintraub turned back to me.

"May I call you Jim?" he asked.

"Please do," I answered.

"Jim, first I must apologize for what that man said to you. He had no right to say what he did and I will see to it that he is corrected. He will either change his manner or he will be out of the Sheriff's Department by the end of next week. Second, I want to tell you how much I admire what you are doing for Kenny and Rusty. Given your background, I think it took a huge amount of courage to take Kenny in on Thanksgiving and then shelter him and heal him the way you did. But, that's exactly what that boy and so many others like him need--an adult male to care for them and mentor them, as well as to provide shelter."

I must have still been staring at Officer Weintraub. I was just totally immobilized by what he was saying to me.

"I know this probably sounds strange coming from me, a policeman. And, please, call me Max. I have a special role on the Vice Squad at the Sheriff's Department." His eyes became watery and glistened. "You see, when I was around Kenny's age, I was into exactly what he has been doing with men who pay him. Had it not been for a special friend who found and rescued me, I'd probably be dead by now. That's what happens to so many of those kids. The street is a very unforgiving place to live. The department has tasked me to work informally and directly with these kids to try to save as many of them as we can."

Now things began to fall into place for me. I wasn't feeling quite so disoriented. I actually began to smile as I wondered who Max's benefactor could have been. The officer turned to look at Rog and suddenly I knew the benefactor. The look of love that passed between them was so strong, so unmistakable, that I knew. It was the same love that I felt for Kenny and Rusty--the same love that I had felt from Rog as he helped me back to independence. And suddenly, my tears came unbidden, flowing down my cheeks as I sobbed. I looked at Rog.

"Oh, Rog! Max! You mean I've been doing it right, after all! Deever is just misguided." The two men moved to hug me and hold me. I just lost it. They held me as I sobbed.

"Yes, Jim. You've been doing it right," said Max. "And we need men like you who can help us reach these kids and communicate with them. It's just that what I do for the department and what you do for these kids has to stay pretty much under cover, thanks to some of the more conservative elements of our community."

"Jim? Jim!" It was Kenny. I should have known he would read my feelings. We were so close to each other now. But, he had come over to be with me. Kenny joined the man-hug that surrounded me. "Oh, Jim! I just knew there'd be a way I could stay with you. Oh, Jim! I love you so much." The boy was crying along with me.

Now it was Max's turn to be surprised and nonplussed. His question was written all over his face as he looked from Rog to me to Kenny and then back to Rog.

Rog said, "They have some kind of empathic thing going, Max. That's how Kenny knew that Rusty was in trouble yesterday. Apparently, it can extend to me, because I'm convinced that's why I had a sudden thirst that could only be satisfied by one of Jim's beers yesterday just before he and Kenny brought Rusty back with them."

Max sputtered, "Well, whatever you call it. Something is working right for all of you. That's just marvelous, Rog!"

And to me, Max said, "Jim, we need to talk more about how you and Kenny could help; but right now, let's get back to Rusty. Are you okay now?"

"I think so, Max. I still feel kind of like I'm spinning, but I think that'll settle down shortly. You're right. We need to get back to Rusty," I answered.

Our little group made its way back through the ER waiting room, around the corner, and into Rusty's area just as the ER physician who had been treating him completed another breath flow assessment with him.

"That's great, Rusty. Your breath has improved so much that I think we can let you go home now. And here comes your dad with Dr. Hansen right now." Rusty's grin spoke volumes.

"Dr. Hansen, Rusty is ready to go home now. His breathing has returned to an acceptable level, but you'll need to monitor it over the next week or so. The EMTs administered an Albuterol nebulizer at the mall and we gave him another when he arrived here this afternoon. Based on what I see now, this attack seems to have been acute rather than an indication of any underlying chronic condition. I suggest that you give Rusty a nebulizer to carry for the next week, just in case there's a recurrence. I don't expect one. Have him continue to monitor his breath volume at home and at school, just to be safe. But, you shouldn't have any more problems. If you do, I'm sure you know of a pulmonary specialist for a referral."

"I understand, Dr. Edwards," said Rog. "We'll be happy to do just that."

Getting Rusty home was going to be a problem. His clothes were in a bag and pretty much a shambles. As I looked through the bag, I saw that his pants, shoes, and socks were okay, but there wasn't much left of his shirt. He was dressed in a hospital gown, blankets, and had been allowed to keep his underwear on.

Rusty's condition was not the only problem; I had to get back to the mall to retrieve my car.

"Jim, I'll go out and get my car started so it'll be warm by the time you guys get in." Rog said. "Then I'll drop you by the mall on the way back to your house so you can get your car."

I should have known. This gentle, golden giant of a man who was so into healing had anticipated my needs perfectly. I looked at him with about the same look of adoration as had Max Weintraub. I smiled, but couldn't think of what to say. Rog smiled back.

"It's okay," he said. "We have a lot to talk about later--when Max can join us. For now, we just need to get you guys home."

To be continued...