by Bradon Nave
Brian appeared quite professional as he spoke to Graye and Jackson as they were all three in the living room. Brian sat on the large coffee table in front of the couple, who were sitting on the large couch. Bryce and Bethany were playing on the front porch, and Jared and Johnny had retreated to the basement to allow their food to settle.
“I’m so glad to hear you say that,” Graye said, smiling as a sense of relief came over her.
“Please keep in mind, I would like to see him by myself. He does not appear to be socially inept, but his demeanor is somewhat reserved. Jackson, the description you gave of his reaction to the sight of you urinating, and his reluctance to talk about what happened to him makes me think he could be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder,” Brian continued. “I absolutely hate to speculate, but I would almost bet my license the boy was abused physically, sexually, and emotionally.”
“How can we help him if, if he won’t talk to us?” Graye asked as she searched her friend’s face for a quick response.
“Graye, darling, you are helping him. You have to keep in mind that if he is suffering from PTSD, he will need ongoing professional help. The nightmares, the potential flashbacks, they won’t just disappear with kind words and three square meals.” Brian’s tone was serious as he looked at her, but she knew this was exactly what she needed to hear.
“Yesterday he was talking to someone. He was talking to Bobby while we were driving to town. But, of course, Bobby wasn’t there,” Jackson confessed with his hands folded.
“What? You didn’t tell me that,” Graye said as she looked at her husband with look of disapproval.
“What do you mean, ‘Bobby wasn’t there?’ He was carrying a conversation with someone who wasn’t there?” Brian asked.
“Yes, he was exhausted, he seemed like he was in a daze and he asked his friend Bobby to drop him off while we were in my truck going to the hardware store.”
Graye made it clear to her husband through a series of disappointed glances that she was displeased with his reluctance to tell her.
“Look, occasionally people that have experienced extremely traumatic life events develop PTSD. Symptoms can include horrific nightmares, flashbacks, extreme paranoia, and in some severe cases there may be a certain level of psychosis. I have seen patients suffer from horrible flashbacks that seem to take them directly back to the situation that inflicted their mental dysfunction. Often, they will do whatever they can to avoid talking about the trauma.”
“You need to ask yourself how much you are willing to invest in this situation. You also need to ask yourself if your household is the best healing environment for this boy. Regardless of where the boy ends up, it’s going to take a lot of time, effort, and resources for him to actually begin to heal, and he may never actually heal completely from his trauma.” Brian’s words were hard for the Graye to hear, but she was expecting that or worse.
“He’s not going anywhere,” Jackson said with a certain level of defensiveness in his voice.
“We have time, and God has blessed us with more than enough resources,” Graye said, supporting her husband’s statement.
“No, he sure as hell isn’t going a damn place,” Jared announced loudly from kitchen entryway.
The three adults all looked at the boy, who was obviously upset by Brian’s statements.
Graye hoped her son wouldn’t lose his temper and say something foolish.
Jared looked directly at Brian.
“Dr. Mulberry, you may just be trying to help, but that’s my friend and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop talking about him like he’s a damn freak,” Jared snapped angrily as he pointed at Brian.
“Jared!” Graye yelled at her son as she stood from the couch.
Jared merely shook his head and stormed up the stairs to his room, his feet falling loudly on the staircase.
“Let the boy go. He is very loyal to his friend. Does Johnny exhibit the same level of loyalty to him?” Brian asked, seemingly unfazed by Jared’s comments and outraged actions.
Graye knew that Brian was used to being snapped at, as the man dealt with angry teenagers all day. She had witnessed his partner, Tracy, become passionately offended several times at past gatherings, screaming at Brian like a lunatic for all to bear witness to.
“Yes, he’s been excellent for Jared. Just last night I overheard Jared talking to him about his dyslexia. He doesn’t even talk to us about that,” Graye said as she sat back down.
“That is actually a significant breakthrough for Jared. He was never comfortable talking to me about his struggles with his learning disability,” Brian said, smiling.
“He’s been good for all of us. He’s actually a well-mannered, even-tempered, loving, and polite kid,” Jackson said as Graye felt him take her hand.
“If you both are absolutely certain this is what you want to do, then I would like to start working with the boy immediately. You need to begin the process of obtaining medical records. If I can help, I will, if I can’t, I have several colleagues that specialize in working with victims of trauma,” Brian said, smiling at the couple.
“One hundred percent certainty,” Graye said as she heard a vehicle approaching outside.
Jared was heard coming down the staircase, with his basketball in hand. As he stepped off the last stair and headed toward the kitchen, he stopped briefly and turned to Brian and his parents. “Sorry,” the teen said reluctantly, and then continued on his route to the basement. Graye understood that Brian had worked extensively with Jared. She knew they were actually quite close, and Brian had seen the boy act out before.
“Tracy!” an enthusiastic Bryce screamed from the front porch.
“Hey, Miss Thang!” Tracy said as Graye watched him prissily trot up the steps. “What is this adorable little bundle of precious?” the man asked as he squatted down to pick up the puppy. Tracy was short, stocky, had red hair, a red mustache, and was pasty white. He was wearing baby blue slacks and a white silk button up shirt that almost looked like a blouse.
The man came through the front door holding Bethany while the puppy licked all over his face as Bryce was right behind him. “And why, may I ask, can she have one but I can’t?” Tracy asked as he kissed the licking puppy, much to Graye’s disgust.
“Because she won’t grow tired of her and toss her in the back yard to stay after the first week,” Brian said.
Graye and was excited to get Johnny the help he needed. If anything, this conversation strengthened and reconfirmed the stance she had regarding Johnny’s situation.
As Tracy made his way to the couch to greet the family, Bryce followed him closely, hoping he would soon release her playmate. Johnny and Jared entered the living room with the basketball.
“Hello, handsome!” Tracy squeaked at Jared as he sat Bethany down.
“Hi, Tracy,” Jared said lowly.
Graye watched the interaction closely as she knew her son was not fond of Tracy, not because of his flamboyant nature, but because Jared had witnessed a few of Tracy’s dramatic tirades when he didn’t get his way. The only Everett that seemed to truly like the man was little Bryce.
Jared continued to the front door, but Johnny appeared frozen still, staring at Tracy.
Johnny’s cheeks became red, his fists were clenched, and he began breathing rapidly.
Graye, as well as the rest of the room, seemed to notice the boy’s strange behavior.
Tracy had a very strange look on his face as he approached Johnny and stuck out his hand. “You must be what all the fuss is about. I’m Tracy,” the man said coldly.
“Just what the hell are you doing here?” Johnny snapped at the man. His eyes were wide with anger, and he looked as though he could kill the man.
Tracy had retracted his hand and had placed it on his chest in a dramatic fashion. He had a look of extreme shock on his face.
“I was invited,” the man said as Graye watched from the couch in shock, unsure if she should intervene.
“What do you want? How, how did you find me? Does he know where I am?” Johnny asked as he turned from the man and placed both hands on his head, squeezing it as Graye arose from the couch.
“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t know you from Adam, you little asshole,” Tracy said in a sassy tone as he placed his hand on his hip.
“Tracy,” Brian said sternly as he rose from the coffee table.
Johnny continued to squeeze his head as Graye watched him retreat through the kitchen toward the laundry room.
Brian quickly followed Graye from the living room.
“I’ll tell you all right now, that there is a vicious brat!” Tracy said, looking at the family from the doorway, as he was obviously offended.
Graye felt badly for the man, but her attention was on the well-being on Johnny, not Tracy’s hurt feelings.
“Why don’t you shut the hell up and leave?” she heard her son demand as he looked at the enraged, prissy man.
“Jared!” Graye yelled at her son. “Tracy, I am so sorry,” the woman apologized as she walked toward the outraged guest, but Tracy held his hand up to silence her.
“Graye, your unruly brood has more than once offended me, and now you bring in this hateful hooligan and allow him to belittle me without mercy. No, ma’am. I will wish you and yours a lovely evening, and you can tell the miracle worker I’ll be at my sister’s,” Tracy said as he stormed out of the house in a heated tirade.
As soon as Tracy was out the door, Graye turned and walked back to situation in the laundry room. Johnny was tucked in the corner, between the wall and the washing machine. He had his back to Brian, who was crouched down and had his hand on the boy’s shoulder as Graye and Jackson looked in from the kitchen.
“Jared, take your sister upstairs, now,” Jackson said to his son as Jared tried to enter the kitchen.
Jared seemed unhappy about the demand, but he offered no resistance.
“Who do you believe that was, Johnny?” Brian asked in a soothing tone.
Johnny was breathing heavily and appeared on the verge of tears as Graye felt a lump developing in her throat.
“Doug. Uncle Doug,” the boy said in a shaky, cracking voice.
“And why do think Doug is here?” Brian asked. He was now touching Johnny’s shoulder.
“For money. He gave my dad money.” Johnny’s voice was so soft it was difficult for Graye to hear.
“Why did he give your dad money, Johnny?” Brian asked in a monotone voice.
“He won’t anymore. I’m too old, I got too old.” Johnny began to sob as Brian developed a look of disgust on his face.
“Doug isn’t here, Johnny. You may have thought that Tracy looked or acted similar to Uncle Doug, but that was not him,” Brian said, trying to calm the boy.
Johnny continued to sob as did Graye while she watched from the kitchen. She knew it was necessary for Brian to talk to Johnny, but at this point she wanted to push him aside and comfort the crying teen.
“Would you like to come out of here? Tracy is gone, and there is no one here by the name of Doug, I promise,” Brian asked as he patted the boy on the back.
Johnny turned and looked at Brian over his shoulder, giving him a simple nod as Brian rose to his feet, offering the boy a hand to help him up. As Johnny stood, he noticed Graye and Jackson in the kitchen.
“I’m sorry!” the boy blurted out as he placed his hands on his head again.
Graye rushed past Brian and embraced the boy, hugging him tightly.
“Hey, Johnny, you’re okay,” the woman said in a comforting tone while she hugged him.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, sweet boy. I need you to wait here and I’ll be right back, okay,” Graye said lovingly. Watching Johnny attempt to compose himself ached her heart even more as she wiped the tears from her saturated eyes.
She then turned from the laundry room to investigate Brian’s opinion.
“It appears that his father allowed this Doug character to violate this young man in exchange for money. The pedophile stopped paying once Johnny entered puberty,” Brian explained to Graye and Jackson, who both seemed in a state of shock.
“That’s why his mother left. That’s why she took his little brother from the house,” Graye proclaimed as she stared at the wall.
“You need to contact the authorities. There is a statute of limitation on sexual assault. He needs to be seen by a proper physician, and speak with the police,” Brian said as he looked at Graye and Jackson.
Jackson said nothing; Graye noticed he too had tears in his eyes.
“I am going to call a dear friend of mine. She deals exclusively with patients that are afflicted with post-traumatic stress disorder associated with sexual trauma. I will convene with you at the gathering this Friday. I would highly recommend Johnny not be present at this party.”
“We already said he isn’t going anywhere,” Graye heard her husband say as she turned to return to Johnny.
Chapter Thirty
Vile
Johnny
He was alone on his mother and father’s bed, waiting. He knew it wouldn’t be long. His mother was gone; she always left on these days. She hated these days. His father was talking to Uncle Doug in the kitchen. The sound of Doug’s voice was disgusting. He was disgusting. Johnny absolutely hated the man. His breath was hideous, his mustache was nauseating, and there was nothing about the man that was even remotely desirable.
Johnny often wished a horrible death on him.
He hated his father for allowing this to happen. He was disgusted with his mother for leaving the house and not protecting him. He knew the woman had protested the night before, he heard her begging his father to stop hitting her in retaliation of her resistance.
One hundred dollars. It was always a one-hundred-dollar bill, folded nicely in Uncle Doug’s pocket. Doug was short, balding, and had dirty blond hair. His mustache was a dirty blond as well. He was portly, and always wore very tight t-shirts and very short shorts. He was vile in every sense of the word. As Johnny lay on the bed, he wanted to run through the kitchen and out the door. He wanted to escape the clutches of Doug. He hated when Doug touched him, and he hated it even more when Doug made Johnny touch him back.
The bedroom door opened. “Well, there is my little buddy!” the flamboyant man said as he happily walked to the bed with a tin Batman lunch box in his hand. “It has just been too long!” the man exclaimed happily. Uncle Doug used to visit Johnny once a week, sometimes more, but he hadn’t been to see Johnny in nearly six months, as he was out of state.
“Tell your Uncle Doug hi, Johnny,” Johnny’s father demanded politely.
“Hello,” Johnny said as he turned and looked at the wall.
“Thomas, his voice is cracking. Is he going through the change? You know the arrangement,” Doug said as he put his hands on his hips and turned to Thomas, looking panicked.
“He ain’t got no hair on his nuts,” Johnny’s father said reassuringly as he looked anxiously at Doug.
“Well, then how about you leave us to our little play date. Now,” Doug said in an irritated voice. “I brought our little box of fun!” the man said with a squeaking voice, smiling largely as he looked down at Johnny.
As Thomas left the room, Doug made his way to the bed and happily held up the tin lunch box. Doug sat down on the bed and ran his fingers through Johnny’s hair. “I need you to take these off. Now, Johnny,” Doug said as he pulled on the bottom of Johnny’s shorts.
Johnny offered no resistance. He knew it was pointless. Doug’s face was bright red with anticipation as Johnny unbuttoned his corduroy shorts and began to pull them down.
“Wait. What the fuck is this?” Doug asked angrily. He slapped the boy’s hands away from his shorts and grabbed the top of them, yanking them violently further down, exposing the top of Johnny’s pubic area. “That lying motherfucker!” Doug screeched as he reached down and open handedly slapped Johnny across the face extremely hard. “Put your goddamn
ed shorts back on, I refuse to touch that nasty shit!” Doug said as he stood from the bed with his hands on his hips. He began nervously pacing the room. “Thomas! Thomas Tregalis, get your fucking ass back here, now!” Doug screamed in a heated fit of rage. Within seconds, Thomas opened the door.
“What the fuck are you screaming about?” Thomas asked as he entered the room.
“He has hair! He’s already changing!” Doug screamed as tears began to stream down his face. “You know our arrangement! And now my erection is gone! I have looked forward to this day for a very long time, and you have betrayed me!” Doug screamed dramatically, pointing at Thomas as he began to shake.
“He ain’t but twelve or thirteen. We can shave ’em,” Thomas suggested as he put his hands out, attempting to calm the belligerent molester.
“Fuck you!” Doug screamed as he began crying violently, and ran from the room.
Thomas followed the crying man from the room and out the kitchen door.
Johnny began to button his pants back as he heard Doug and his father in the front yard.
“I can’t deal with this, Thomas! You know how fragile I am right now! You can take this shitty hundred-dollar bill and shove it up your white trash ass! Don’t you dare call me ever again!” Doug screamed as Johnny heard a car door slam. He then heard the car start and the sound of tires spinning wildly in the front yard.
Johnny was thankful to know that Uncle Doug’s visits wouldn’t be happening anymore. He was also pleased that Doug gave his father the money anyways, he knew they needed groceries. He felt horrible that he let his family down. He felt like it was his fault that they wouldn’t be getting the extra grocery money in the future.
He heard his father come back in the house; his boots pounded the tattered floor as he the man made his way to the bedroom at a quick pace. Johnny looked at his father as the man flew through the door in a wild rage.