It was two o’clock in the afternoon when Ken van Meter arrived with his charge at the offices of Greywolf, Drake, & Spalding in the Todd Office Building. There, he was greeted by the receptionist and told Dr. Spalding would be with them immediately. Ben had been awaiting their arrival, as he was getting a referral from the City Child Welfare Office. He was the junior partner among the three psychologists practicing from this office. From what he had been told, it was an especially difficult case, as the boy simply refused to speak. There was only one hint as to his situation. He had been found by the examining physician to have been sexually abused in the anus. When Ben first saw the boy, his heart went out to him, as he looked so woebegone, but at the same time determined to put up a stout fight.
The boy before him was small, standing about four foot six, and could not weigh much over 60 pounds. So far, they did not know his age, but he looked to be about ten. He was blond, with blue/green eyes, which had a stubborn glare to them. His whole body seemed small and fragile. His face showed a few scuff marks, and one or two more permanent scars, but he had even, white teeth. There was a duskiness to his skin color which hinted at something more than a pure northern European background somewhere along the line, and his high cheekbones gave the same hint. He was dressed in jeans, battered athletic shoes, and a t-shirt with the logo of a rock group almost obliterated with repeated washing. On this spring afternoon, he also wore a light jacket which looked like it has been well used.
Ben greeted the newcomers. “Hello, Ken. This must be Martin.”
“Yes, and that’s about all we know about him, Ben. I hope you can be of some help here. Martin, this is Dr. Spalding. I’m going to leave you with him for a little while.”
“Hello, Martin,” Ben said, extending his hand in greeting.
The boy neither answered nor accepted the hand extended to him, but glared at the psychologist, as though he were challenging him to find out anything more about him.
Ken van Meter handed Ben Spalding a folder. “Here’s what we have. It’s not much. I’ll be back in an hour. Keep an eye on him. He’s tried to run away several times already today.”
“Will do. Okay, Martin, let’s go into my office,” Ben said, turning towards the open door.
Martin glanced around. Ken grinned. He was still there, and between Martin and the door. With a sigh, Martin moved towards this new trial in his life. He would see about running when they left. He entered the office and sat in a comfortable looking chair. Dr. Spalding sat in a similar chair between him and the door. Oops, bad move there, Martin told himself. Should have grabbed the one by the door, just in case. Got to be alert, and not give anything more away, or they’ll send me back.
“Just make yourself comfortable while I glance over this file,” Ben said. “Would you like a soft drink or something?”
He would, but he would not give them the satisfaction of answering, so Martin just sat there, glaring and unresponsive.
Ben smiled at him. “Well, since you’re not in a talkative mood, please pardon me a minute or two while I look over what Ken has in your file, here.” With that, he quickly perused the contents of the folder given him by Ken van Meter. “Hmmm. Looks like you screwed up there, Martin.” That caused Martin to look frightened, then questioning. “Well, you told them your name was Martin, didn’t you?” Ben grinned.
He was right. In the drama of his initial conflict with the authorities, he had let that slip. Damn! He wished Doc here had not caught on to that.
Continuing to scan the file, Ben noted that Martin had reacted as he had hoped. Martin really was his name, not just something he told the proprietor of the chain restaurant at a mall who apprehended him trying to steal an ice cream dessert off the counter. “So,” Ben concluded his scan, “now I know what the police and welfare folks know. Not much. No use in me saying you’ve had a rough life so far. That’s pretty obvious, and you’d be pretty much a softy to fall for me playing on that. No, you’re no softy. I do have two things to say to you, though, Martin. That bastard who tore up your ass created a real danger zone for you, and if you keep opening the wound, you’ll get it infected and in a condition where it will never heal.”
That caused Martin to wince and look frightened, despite his determination not to give anything away. This was the thing which was bothering him most, and the man had zoned in on it right away.
“The other thing I want to let you know is that there is no way you can be sent back to the guy who did that,” Ben said.
Martin looked skeptical.
“Don’t believe me, huh?” Ben interpreted the look. “Hold on.” He took our his cell phone and pressed a number. “Hi. This is Dr. Spalding downstairs. Is Anjali or one of the others there? … Hi, Anjali, this is Ben. I have a skeptic here. You think you could take a minute to show him that passage we discussed last week? … Fine. We’ll be right up.”
Ben then got up, moved to his desk, and removed a set of handcuffs. When Martin saw those, he got a panicky look on his face.
“We’re going up two floors. You can wear these, or you can give me your word that you won’t try to run. Which will it be?” Ben asked.
“No cuffs. I won’t run. This time,” Martin said.
Ben got a big grin on his face. “Good.” Martin was not sure whether the ’good’ was because he said he would not run, or because he answered in the first place. Ben dropped the handcuffs in his pocket. “Come on then, let’s go.”
They exited the office. Ben said to the receptionist, “We’re going up to see Anjali for now,” but they kept moving. At the end of the corridor, Ben pulled open a door to reveal a flight of steps, and ushered Martin through. “Up two flights,” he said, and they began to climb. Two flights up, they were back in a corridor just like the one below. They arrived at a door which was decorated with the name ‘Law Offices of Pennington, Pennington, & Rafferty.’ “Anjali’s expecting us,” Ben told the receptionist, and they kept on going, into a room lined with law books on two sides. There was a female of Asiatic Indian extraction, with a book open on the table.
“Thanks, Anjali,” Ben said. “Now, Martin, this is Mrs. Pennington. She’s a lawyer, and what she has there is a book of the laws of the Commonwealth of Kentucky. Show him the spine, Anjali, as we have a real skeptic here.”
The woman addressed as Anjali smiled. She lifted the heavy volume, and showed Martin the spine of the book. It seemed authentic enough.
“Anjali, this young skeptic is named Martin. Please show him that passage,” Ben said.
“Okay. Come around here, Martin,” Anjali said. “I want you to look right here where I have my finger. This is a section of the state law that relates to juveniles who are believed to have been abused in the home.”
That caused Martin to wonder just a bit. But he looked. There, where the woman’s finger indicated, he read, “Under no circumstances will a juvenile be returned to the home where he or she has been abused unless and until it has been verified that the abuser is no longer in the home, or has been certified by competent authority to have been cured of the issues leading to the abuse.”
He looked up with a question in his eyes.
“That’s right, Martin,” Mrs. Pennington said. “It is against the law for the Child Welfare people to take you back to any place where you were abused. I don’t know your story, but I respect the expertise of Dr. Spalding just as he does mine. If he says you’ve been abused, I believe it. I have represented quite a few young people who have been abused, and I can tell you without the least hesitation that we will not allow you to go back to the place where the abuse took place, or to be placed with the person or persons who abused you.”
“Um, thanks,” Martin mumbled.
“Thanks, Anjali. I think Martin believes you. He never would have believed me,” Ben said. “After all, I’m the guy Ken van Meter turned him over to.”
Anjali chuckled. “I don’t know about your logic, there, Ben, but if I have been of any help, I’m glad.”
They exited the law offices. In the corridor, Ben gave Martin a hard look. “Do we still have a deal? You won’t run, right?”
Why did he ask that, Martin wondered, but he responded, “Yeah, deal. For now.”
“Okay, good. Let’s go,” Ben said, and this time led him to the bank of elevators. When they got in, to Martin’s surprise, Ben pressed the button for the ground floor. He looked at Ben with a question in his eyes. “Deal, remember,” was all Ben said. On the ground floor, Ben led him through the lobby and outside. Damn, he could have run, but at the same time he was curious to see what this odd man was up to. They turned south on Westbrook Pike and walked for two blocks, coming to Bradford’s Bakery and Ice Cream Parlor. They went in. It smelled wonderful.
“It says in your file that they fed you, but I’ll bet they forgot dessert,” Ben said. “Pick out something.”
“Anything?” Martin asked, unbelieving.
“Anything,” Ben confirmed.
Martin looked over the items displayed on a board behind the ice cream counter. “Hot fudge sundae,” he chose.
“Two hot fudge sundaes, Chris,” Ben said to the man behind the counter.
“Coming up, Ben,” the man replied.
Ben and Martin took a seat at a round table in a corner. Martin was dying to find out what was going on, but refused to allow himself to be drawn out, or to like this peculiar guy. A couple of minutes later, a kid who could not have been much older than Martin appeared with two hot fudge sundaes on a tray.
“Thanks, Kit. I didn’t know you were old enough to work here,” Ben said.
Kit grunted. “Dad says I can work. I just can’t get paid. So I’m just bringing you guys this because I’m a good guy.”
Ben laughed. “You make sure you bring me the ticket, too, and I’ll make sure you get the tip, okay?”
“Okay, Dr. Spalding. Thanks,” Kit Bradford said, and skipped away.
“Dig in,” Ben invited Martin.
It was undoubtedly the best ice cream dessert Martin ever had, and he was partial to ice cream. Ben seemed to be enjoying it as much as he. Kit appeared a little later with the bill, and Ben took it, but handed him ten dollars. “I’ll pay the bill on the way out. That’s for you, so your whip snapping father cannot skim part of it off for himself.”
Kit giggled, and stuffed the ten in his pocket. “Thanks,” he said, and disappeared.
On the way out, Ben handed Chris the ticket and another bill. Chris shook his head. “You’re spoiling my son, you know that,” he said.
“Every kid deserves a little spoiling,” Ben replied.
They began to walk back to the Todd Office Building. Mellowed, perhaps, by the ice cream sundae, Martin asked, “What’s going to happen to me?”
Ben smiled. Ice cream was a lot more effective than the third degree. “In about ten minutes Mr. van Meter will return for you. You’ll be taken back to the juvenile detention facility. They’ll keep trying to find out more about you. You’ll keep being stubborn. Maybe in a few more days they’ll bring you back here. A lot depends on what we can find out, or whether someone comes looking for you.”
“Someone like who?” Martin asked.
“A parent, perhaps,” Ben answered.
“Nope. Mom’s dead,” the boy supplied – the first bit of information he had given out since he told the restaurant proprietor his name.
“If not your mother, then your father, perhaps,” Ben said nonchalantly, hoping for more information.
“Never had one,” Martin responded.
“Oh, come on. Everyone had a father. Have you had sex ed in school yet?” Ben laughed.
Martin blushed. “I know about that stuff. Just never had one at home.” Realizing he was talking, though, Martin shut up, and would not say anything more.
When they got back to the office, Ben scribbled in the dossier a bit. He then asked, “Is there anything you want me to put in here?”
“Yeah. That bit about not being sent back,” Martin said with some feeling.
“Okay. I have the reference to the law, and they can look it up down at Child Welfare.” He scribbled some more.
A buzzer sounded, and Ben hit his intercom. The receptionist said, “Mr. van Meter is here.”
“Send him in,” Ben responded.
Ken entered. “Well, how did things go?” he asked.
“Oh, pretty good, for a guy who won’t talk,” Ben replied. “We talked to Anjali upstairs. I’ve written down the reference to a law here, and I wish you would look it up and put a copy in Martin’s file. Oh, and we went to Bradford’s, and I didn’t even have to use these,” he said as he removed the handcuffs from his pocket.
“Congratulations,” Ken said. “You got more than we did.”
“He’s smarter than you,” Martin unexpectedly contributed.
There was a moment of silence, then Ben and Ken both broke out laughing.
“I’ll concede that, but only in this case,” Ken rejoined.
That evening, Ben told his partner Gabriel about the interesting visit he had toward the end of his office hours. Gabriel studied his boyfriend for a few minutes.
“And when will Martin be moving in?” he asked.
“Huh? Where did that come from?” Ben replied.
“We’ve been talking off and on about being foster parents, like Mario and Doug. The way you talk about Martin, I can tell he’s found his way into your heart,” Gabriel said.
“You’re the one who ought to be the psychologist,” Ben stated. “I do like the boy. But that’s a long way from having him move in. For one thing, I have no idea how he feels about gays. He’s been abused. Had his butt torn up. He may hate us, and in his case with good reason.”
“Uh huh,” Gabriel said, indicating he wasn’t buying any of that.
The next morning over breakfast, Ben asked, “If things do work out, how would you feel about being foster parents?”
Gabriel grinned. “Like we talked about before. We’re both doing pretty well. This is a two bedroom apartment, and we don’t use the other one, except to throw junk into. And, God knows, there are kids out there who need some relief, even if it’s only temporary.”
Ben kissed his partner.
Before leaving the apartment, Ben called Child Welfare and asked for Ken. Both plumbers like Gabriel and welfare workers like Ken had to begin their work days earlier than he did. When he got his friend on the phone, he asked, “Do you think you could bring Martin around again today?”
Ken hugged himself. He was hoping for something like this. It had been his idea to take Martin to Ben in the first place. “He’s scheduled to see the on-call physician this morning, but I think we can squeeze you into his busy social schedule this afternoon,” Ken replied.
Therefore, it was just an hour earlier than the previous day when Ken again escorted Martin into Ben’s office. “Two hours this time?” Ken queried.
“Yeah. Slow day, so I might as well spend some time with Martin,” Ben replied.
“Good. We haven’t been successful in getting anything more than you did yesterday,” Ken said. Then, to Martin he said, “Behave yourself. See you in two hours.”
Ben looked at Martin. He wore the same clothing as yesterday, of course, as there was nothing else except for jail garb. “How’s it going?” he asked.
“They did it,” Martin said.
“Did what?”
“They put that law in my file. I saw it there.”
Ben opened the folder, and, sure enough, there was a photocopy of the relevant law lying right on top.
“Ken’s a good man. He cares, too, Martin,” Ben said.
“He acted like he did,” Martin said with some kind of wonder in his voice.
“Why does that surprise you?” Ben asked.
Martin looked at him critically. “Are you going to tell him everything I say today?”
“I don’t have to. There’s such a thing as client privilege. I’ll only tell Ken what you give me permission to tell him. How about that?” Ben informed him.
“Am I your client?” Martin wondered.
“You are now. Yesterday I was just doing a favor for a friend,” Ben said.
“A friend?”
“I’ve known Ken since he was a child. In fact, he’s a lot younger than me. I’m an old man, soon to be thirty, while Ken won’t be twenty-three until July. Even so, he’s at least twice your age, youngster,” Ben kidded.
“Nope.”
“Nope what?”
“Nope, he’s not twice my age. I’m thirteen,” Martin said, and grinned to let Ben know he realized he just gave out another piece of information he had been withholding.
“You’re kidding. I thought you were about ten,” Ben confessed.
“Not as smart as I thought,” Martin sighed.
“Sorry to be a disappointment, and so soon in our relationship,” Ben smiled. “So, how did it go with the doctor this morning?”
“Fucking SOB,” Martin replied.
“Not so good, then?” Ben concluded.
“He hurt me about as much as the last fucker who stuck his dick up my ass,” Martin said angrily.
“Sorry to hear that. What did he say about your condition?”
“I’m pretty okay, except my ass hurts. I knew that already. He said I had torn something in … well, I don’t remember the word he used, but he meant my ass, and there’s a sister up there,” Martin reported.
“A sister?” Ben asked.
“Yeah. Like a bump. It hurts when I take a dump,” Martin said.
Ben laughed. “I think you mean a cyst. That’s C Y S T.”
“That makes more sense,” Martin conceded.
“Does this worry you?” Ben asked.
“Yeah. It hurts. Besides, I don’t know what it all means as far as, well, you know, what I can do from here on,” the boy admitted.
“Would you like for a better doctor, one who would not hurt you any more than necessary, to take a look, and tell you what to expect?” Ben asked.
“Sure, but I’m stuck with the one sent by the welfare people,” Martin said.
“Let’s see,” Ben said. He picked up his phone, and pressed the buttons for Todd Medical Clinic. “Hi. This is Dr. Spalding. Is Dr. Endicott available? … Hi, Mark, this is Ben. I’ve got a young man who needs to have you look at him. Nothing genetic, but his rear end has been abused, and he’s not exactly satisfied with the services at the Child Welfare Office. … You can? Great! See you then.”
“Do you know everyone?” Martin asked.
“Everyone? Why do you ask?” Ben responded.
“Well, yesterday you knew the welfare worker, the lawyer, and the guy at the ice cream place. Today you know a doctor.”
“I know a lot of the people who live and work here in the Neighborhood, and most of them are good people who are willing to help out when it’s needed,” Ben explained.
“I don’t know any good people,” Martin muttered.
“Sure you do. You know Anjali Pennington, the lawyer, and Chris Bradford, the guy at the ice cream place, and his son Kit, and Ken van Meter, your social worker. Besides, you know me, and I’m disappointed that you don’t think I’m a good person,” Ben laid it on.
Martin stopped short for a moment, then he grinned. “I think you knew I meant before, and you’re trying to manipulate me.”
“You’re a pretty smart kid, too,” Ben said. He then used his phone again. “Ken van Meter, please. … Ken, Ben here. Listen, I’m taking Martin to see Mark Endicott at five. … Yeah, well, he wasn’t satisfied with that exam. Let’s say he’s seeking a second opinion. … Okay, I’ll give you a call when we’re finished at the clinic.”
Ben turned to Martin. “We have over an hour before we visit the doctor. How about you telling me how you got that problem to begin with.”
Martin grinned. “I talk better after ice cream.”
Ben gave him a raised eyebrow. “Not taking advantage, are we? Okay, Sport, do we need the handcuffs, or is the deal we had yesterday still in effect?” Ben asked Martin.
Martin grinned. “Would you really handcuff me?”
“Yes,” Ben answered seriously. “You need help, and I can’t get it for you if you run away.”
“Oh!” Martin had never thought of it that way. “Deal,” he replied.
“Good. Let’s go.”
As they exited the office, the receptionist sighed. “Not another trip to Bradford’s.”
“Afraid so. Martin drives a hard bargain,” Ben told her, dramatically sighing.
Martin giggled. Ben thought that was good. Thirteen year old kids should laugh and giggle. They followed the same route down Westbrook Pike, and entered Bradford’s once again.
“Can I have a banana split this time?” Martin asked.
“Two banana splits,” Ben told Leona Tyler, who was behind the counter today.
After the first bite, Martin gave off a purring sound. “Best ice cream I ever had,” he said.
“They make their own,” Ben informed him.
After a few more bites, Martin began to talk.
“Okay, you kept your side of the deal, so I guess I will, too,” Martin began. “Remember, you promised I would not be sent back.”
“I remember, and you won’t,” Ben promised.
“Okay. Well, like I said, I’m a real bastard. My mom was never married. She said she got pregnant with me in high school, and had to drop out. I don’t know what happened about my father. I guess he just disappeared when he found out Mom was prego. She had guys staying with us from time to time. Most of them were real losers. Ended up with this SOB named Paco. He was around when Mom died. It was about two years ago almost when he showed up. Paco was a shitass even while Mom was alive, but when she got shot in a drug bust, he was worse.
“Wait. Mom used, but she was not a pusher. That was Paco. Still is, far as I know. She was just with him when everything went wrong. I don’t know the details, but Paco said a rival was trying to horn in on his territory. Mom was just sitting in the car, and got it from a stray bullet.”
At this point, Martin was crying, and had to stop to collect himself. Ben put his arm around the boy’s heaving shoulder, and offered some consolation.
After a couple of minutes, Martin resumed his narrative. “Like I said, things got worse after Mom died. Paco was always hitting me, and calling me a no-good bastard. I had to keep the shitty apartment clean, and do other jobs, and run errands for him, even if it meant taking me out of school to do it. I got these,” he said as he pointed to the scars on his face, “as a present from Paco when I wasn’t fast enough, or forgot something he told me to do.
“But the shit really hit the fan last year. Um, I get good vibes, but you’re not going to toss me off when I tell you I’m gay, are you?”
Ben laughed. “Martin, you just told me. Well, here’s a little news of my own. I’m gay, too. But don’t worry,” he quickly added, seeing worry cross Martin’s face. “I have a partner, and we don’t cheat on each other.”
“Really? I never guessed. I guess I just thought of you as ‘the doctor,’ and didn’t think about, you know, you having a personal life.”
“Well, I do. So, now you know I have nothing against gays, so you can tell me what comes next.”
“Yeah, well, I finished my banana split, and I don’t want to talk about this any more here in public. The place is beginning to fill up,” Martin protested.
“So it is. I was so interested in what you had to say, I didn’t notice. Let’s go back to my office,” Ben suggested.
As they walked back down Westbrook Pike, Martin said, “You know, you’re a pretty good listener. I don’t think anyone ever really listened to me before.”
“I think you have some very important things to say,” Ben told the boy.
Back in the office and settled down, Martin resumed his narrative. “Okay, I kind of stopped with the gay bit, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, about the time I was twelve, maybe a year ago, I decided I was gay. The other guys at school were starting to talk about girls, you know. I have nothing against girls. I like girls. But they don’t turn me on like guys do. Now that I know you’re gay, you turn me on, too.”
“Just stop right there. I told you I have a partner, and we don’t cheat on each other. Besides, anything like that would be totally inappropriate between a psychologist and a client,” Ben insisted.
“All I said was you turn me on. I didn’t say I was going to rape you,” Martin said in a voice indicative of his hurt feelings at Ben’s reaction. He also shut down. “I guess what I have to say is not all that interesting after all.”
Despite Ben’s apologies and efforts to get him to continue, Martin had returned to his silent stubborn persona. Until it was time to leave for the clinic, he said nothing more. Ben was quite upset with himself, but simply had to wait until Martin was ready to talk again.
“How much of what you told me can I tell Mr. van Meter?” he asked.
“Nothing,” was Martin’s one word response.
About a quarter before five, Ben told Martin to get ready, they were going to see Dr. Endicott.
On the way out, Ben told the receptionist, “This is it for the day. I’ll see you on Monday. Have a great weekend.”
They exited through a door onto the parking garage attached to the facility, and got into Ben’s car. It was not far to the Todd Medical Clinic, but far enough that walking was not an option when time was a concern, and, given his present mood, there was the possibility Martin might try to run. Ben drove to the clinic, on the other side of University Hospital from where they began. There, they found Mark Endicott awaiting them. He had stayed late for Ben’s client.
“Mark, this is Martin. He’s currently my client, and is living at the juvenile center. He got visited by the doctor on call there this morning, but would like you to give him a check-up as well, with particular attention to a problem in his anus,” Ben said. “I’ll wait here in the reception room.”
“Okay, Ben. Come with me, Martin. We’ll get you all checked out in no time. This is Belle Pendleton. She’ll help with thing like your measurements, blood pressure, and the like,” Mark introduced Martin to the nurse as he led him into one of the examining rooms.
Martin got the most thorough medical examination of his life thus far, with x-rays and peering into his nose and throat and ears, and testing his testes. Mark was especially solicitous about his anus, as Ben had requested. He confirmed the diagnosis of the earlier physician, but explained it all in terms Martin could understand. He also told the boy that, unless the tear was treated, and the cyst removed, there could be painful, and potentially very serious consequences. He wanted to schedule Martin for the treatment early on Monday.
Martin was frightened by Dr. Endicott’s seriousness. He thought he had something really wrong with him. Mark, however, was able to assure him that it could all be taken care of without much trouble, but he would have some discomfort with his bowel movements for the next couple of weeks. “And absolutely no more anal sex until you are completely healed,” Mark insisted, causing the boy to turn red with embarrassment. He had not said anything about his sexual activities, but Mark had drawn his own conclusions from the nature of the problem.
Leaving the examining room. Mark told Ben his conclusions. “I really recommend the treatment on Monday. The sooner the better.”
Martin looked skeptical. “Thanks, Doc, but I don’t think the welfare people will spring for anything like that, and I have no money.”
“There are times when every one of us here at the Todd Medical Clinic carries out procedures pro bono,” Mark told him. “I think this will be one of those times.”
“What does pro bono mean?” Martin asked.
“It means Dr. Endicott will treat you without pay,” Ben told him.
“It’s part of a Latin phrase we doctors, and also lawyers sometimes, use. The full phrase is pro bono publico, and it means ‘for the public good,’” Mark elaborated. “It’s very important that you have a reasonable convalescence, Martin. No strain on that ass of yours, and, like I said, no anal sex,” Mark teased him.
“Like the juvie facility will permit that,” Martin said, seeing one problem arise as soon as the previous one was resolved.
Ben stepped forward. “Look, Martin, I know we got off on the wrong foot there in my office. But, if you’re willing, you can stay with me and my partner while you are recovering from the procedures Dr. Endicott will carry out.”
Martin looked at him closely. Then, a devilish grin crossed his face. “Okay, but like the Doc here says, no anal intercourse.”
Ben blushed scarlet, as both Mark and Martin laughed. “You’re going to be the death of me yet,” he grumbled, as he got on his phone again.
“Hey, Ken, we’re at the clinic. Just wound up here. But Martin needs a safe place to stay while he recovers from the procedures Mark recommends. You think you can swing it that he can stay with Gabriel and me? … Okay, we’ll come down there. I have my car. Then we can do the paper work.” His second call was quite different. “Hey, Lover. We’re at the clinic, and I have to go down to the Child Welfare Office to sign some papers. … No, we are not adopting anyone just yet, Idiot. … Quit laughing! … Are you? … Okay, okay, here he is.” Ben handed the phone to Martin. “My partner wants to talk to you.”
Martin accepted the phone, and answered, “Hi.”
“You’re Martin, right?” Gabriel said.
“Right,” Martin confirmed.
“Well, I’m Gabriel. Are you sure you want to spend time with a crazy shrink and a plumber?”
“Well, I ...”
“Never mind. After I listened to Ben going on forever about you last night, I knew you’d be moving in sometime. I just wanted to tell you, you’re welcome for as long as you want,” Gabriel assured him.
“Thanks, Mr. … uh, I don’t know your last name,” Martin said.
“And I don’t know yours,” Gabriel replied. “Mine is Valderama.”
“Really? Mine is Sotomayor.”
At that, Gabriel and Martin launched into a conversation in Spanish, essentially welcoming Martin, now pronounced Martín, and telling him how much Ben cared for him. Martin did not realize that Ben also was fluent in Spanish, and confessed to Gabriel that he had been a brat, making Ben sweat it out for an hour after he insulted him by implying that he was just a body for hire. He also told Gabriel about his condition, and what Dr. Endicott was going to do. Gabriel assured the boy he would be completely safe at the Spalding-Valderama apartment, and completely welcome as well.
They left the Todd Medical Clinic. In the car, Ben began speaking in Spanish, which embarrassed Martin totally. Ben laughed, and told him not to judge by appearances. “I know, I’m completely Anglo, but that does not mean I can’t learn Spanish. I had to in order to keep up with my partner. And besides, I would never have guessed you were Hispanic, except for that slight tan you have. It could have been acquired in a tanning salon.”
“Sure. And just where would I get the money for a tanning salon?” Martin began, then remembered the talk about his ass, and blushed.
Ben laughed.
At the Child Welfare Office, Ken was waiting for them. “It’s about time,” he told Ben. “Lauren is going to kill me if I keep up these hours.”
“It’s all Martin’s fault,” Ben said with a big grin.
Martin started to object, then thought better of it, and just grinned.
“I hear you’ll be staying somewhere other than our luxury suites here at the juvie center,” Ken said to Martin.
“Yes, please. Please!” Martin hammed it up.
They all laughed. Ben signed several papers, accepting the role of temporary foster parent to the juvenile known as Martin. At that point, he looked at the boy. “Shall we put in a last name?”
“Oh, shit! I forgot you understood everything I said to Gabriel. Okay, do it. My last name is Sotomayor,” Martin said.
“Sotomayor?” Ken said. “That rings a bell somewhere.”
Matin took another deep breath. “My mom was killed last April. It was in the papers.”
Ken smiled. At last, some progress was being made in this case. “Thanks, Martin. That must be it. I’ll look up the details for inclusion in your file.”
After signing all the necessary papers, Ben and Martin took their leave of Ken, and made their way to the Kenilworth Apartments. There, they found Gabriel and dinner awaiting them. He had prepared a delicious meal in anticipation of their arrival. Martin immediately liked Gabriel, but he chided him for not mentioning that Ben also understood Spanish, and everything he said in their earlier phone conversation.
Gabriel just grinned, and replied, “I can be sneaky, too.”
Dinner went very well. Afterwards, they lazed before the television until bedtime. Then Martin was shown the room he would be using. After a good shower, he went to bed and fell into an exhausted slumber. It had been quite a day for the thirteen year old, even a street smart thirteen year old.
Saturday morning when he awoke, Martin at first did not know where he was, but he had enjoyed the most comfortable night’s sleep he had experienced in his memory. He arose, found his way to the bathroom, then began to think about breakfast. No one else seemed to be awake. But, passing the door of the bedroom where Ben and Gabriel slept, he heard the familiar noises of passion. With a big smile, he went into the kitchen, and sought out some milk and cereal. He was still eating when the two older men appeared. The smirk he gave them let them know he had heard their love making.
“Look at that,” Gabriel proclaimed. “We seem to have invited an eavesdropper into the house.”
“No, I … ”
“Seems like it. Now what do we do with him,” Ben picked up on the story line.
“Really guys … ”
“Condign punishment. Nothing less,” Gabriel proclaimed.
He made a dash for Martin, but the boy was quick. For several minutes, they ran about the house, until finally Martin was caught between Ben and Gabriel. Then, he was tickled mercilessly until he was totally out of breath.
“You guys are crazy,” he proclaimed, as he lay on the floor panting.
After Ben and Gabriel had showered, dressed, and breakfasted, Ben said to Gabriel, “You know, I’m getting awfully tired of seeing those same clothes on Martin. This is three days in a row, and they were none too clean the first time I saw him.”
“Hey, what can I say?” Martin protested. “This is all I have. When the cops picked me up, they didn’t allow time for packing my extensive designer wardrobe.”
“We can fix that,” Gabriel said. “Get your jacket. We’re going shopping.”
And so it was that the three of them made their way out to a medium range mall, where they spent much of the morning picking out a new wardrobe for Martin. He was delighted, if at first incredulous. He had never been given so many new clothes at once. In addition to his clothing, he also acquired all the toiletries and accessories a boy his age should have, including a wallet, even though he had no money, and some leather wristbands.
When their shopping was complete, they stopped at La Cocina Latina for lunch, speaking to Felipe Hernandez in Spanish as they entered. Another treat, this was the best Mexican meal Martin could remember.
Over lunch, Ben asked Martin whether he played soccer. Of course he did. He boasted that he was the best soccer player in Clifton. It was the one thing he could do in the neighborhood where he lived. So, they walked down to Mansfield Park after parking the car. As usual, there was a soccer game just getting under way. Martin had wanted to wear his new clothes home, but now he was glad he had not. He immediately got involved, and, while perhaps not the best player in Clifton, as he boasted, he proved he knew the game, and had a tremendous time, taking up much of the afternoon. It was a very happy boy who made his way back to the Kenilworth with Ben and Gabriel. They told him they had both played at his age and much later. In fact, they still took part in the annual game in connection with the Independence Day picnic. Back at the apartment, a happy but dirty boy was shown to the bathroom and told not to come out until he was squeaky clean.
It was nearly an hour later when Martin emerged. He looked distressed.
“What’s the problem, Martin,” Gabriel asked.
“I had to take a dump. That fucking sister of mine is a pain in the ass,” the boy replied.
Gabriel looked totally confused, but Ben broke out in uproarious laughter. It took a while for him to calm down enough to explain to Gabriel, who then joined him and Martin in the merriment.
Martin sat on the couch in the living room, but the television was not on. Gabriel went to check on a leaking pipe in the kitchen. He was, after all, a plumber. Ben was sitting at his desk working on bills.
“Ben,” Martin called.
“Yeah.”
“You want to practice that good listening you do some more?”
Ben was immediately attentive. He came over and sat next to Martin. “Go on. Tell me some more.”
Martin talked for nearly two hours. He had a lot on his mind, including being afraid of the operation Dr. Endicott would perform on Monday, and the Child Welfare people, and Paco finding him and taking him back. He described what he had to do for Paco again, and then picked up where he had left off. When Paco found that he was gay, he beat him and raped him. It was Paco who caused the problem in his anus to begin with. No one had been there before. In fact, Martin had never had a positive sexual relationship with another gay person, or anyone else. Paco began to rent him out, saying it was all queers were good for. It was after a couple of really rough johns that Martin had run away. He had been used by Paco in this manner for about nine months – time enough to have a baby, he joked – and had been on his own for over a month when he had been caught. He also told Ben that his birthday was coming up. He would be fourteen on 23 March. He was in the eighth grade in a public school in the area to the northwest of downtown.
“Now you know all about me,” Martin said.
“Not by a long shot,” Ben replied, “but I’m getting to know you better. I told you, you tell interesting stories.”
“What’s going to become of me?” Martin asked.
“Let’s not worry for now. Let’s take care of your medical problems, and during that time you can stay here. Then we’ll see,” Ben said.
“But I won’t have to go back to Paco?”
“No way! But you do have to make up your mind about Paco. I’m afraid doctor/client privilege does not extend to abuse cases. I am required by law to report this to the authorities. In this case, the authorities means Ken van Meter. Then, you have to decide whether you will cooperate with the authorities or not. Paco is guilty of selling drugs. That was what got your mother killed. But more importantly, he’s guilty of abusing you. You have to decide whether you’re willing to tell Ken all about that, like you did me, and then testifying against him in court.”
“I could never do that! I’d have to tell everyone about having my ass fucked, and about being rented out,” Martin protested.
“Yes, you would. But remember, none of that is your fault. As I said, I’m required to report the abuse. But it’s up to you whether you cooperate with the authorities or not. If you decide to do so, Anjali Pennington could represent you in court. She’s had lots of experience with children,” Ben said. “I will not – repeat, not – pressure you in this matter.”
At that time, Gabriel reappeared among the living, triumphant about his victory over an elusive leak.
On Sunday morning, they talked about church. It had been a while since Martin had been. He had sort of been raised Catholic, in that he had been baptized, and made his first Holy Communion. But he had never attended Catholic school, or even a CCD class, except in second grade in order to make his first Holy Communion. He knew very little about what it meant to be Catholic. After his mother’s death, Paco had never gone to church, and had never allowed Martin to go either, and, of course, while he was on his own, he had not gone either.
Ben and Gabriel continued their long-standing practice of attending the English service at St. Rose and the Spanish service at St. Francis Xavier on alternate weekends, but decided to interrupt the cycle this weekend, which should have been a St. Rose Sunday, so Martin could go with them to St. Francis Xavier. The Spanish service and lots of Hispanics might be good for him. When Mass was over, there were a slew of kids his own age running about, with a few of them having been encountered at the soccer match the day before. They all said hello to Martin, and informed him that there would be a repeat match that afternoon, same place.
“This all reminds me of my mother,” Martin told his hosts, with tears in his eyes.
They went to the Olympia for Sunday dinner, then home, where Martin changed into his old clothes. They had been washed, at least, the evening before. He was not sure, but he thought he would have to leave all his new stuff behind when, after he recovered his health, he had to go back to the juvenile facility. At least, he could go back with clean clothes.
Ben and Gabriel came down to Mansfield Park to watch the game. The afternoon sped to a close with another great time. Then, there was sports on television, shared with Gabriel, while Ben returned to the household expenses. They insisted on an early bedtime for Martin. He had to be ready for Dr. Endicott at seven in the morning.
It was terribly embarrassing. Martin had to strip entirely, and lie on the operating table on his stomach (that much was good, as he had a hard-on). Then, he was given a local anesthetic and, once it had taken effect, Dr. Endicott went to work, removing his cyst and repairing the rip in the lining of his anus. But there were nurses present the whole time. Female nurses! As a final embarrassment, he overheard one nurse say to another, “He smells a lot better than he did when he came in on Friday.” It never occurred to him, but he had gone to the doctor’s office directly from Ben’s office, and before his shower that evening. He probably did smell kind of ripe at the time. Then, the ultimate embarrassment, Ben made poor jokes about sitting down.
After the procedure, Ben took him back to the apartment. He explained again that he had to get in to his office, where he had other clients waiting. He left the office phone number and his cell phone number, then put Martin to bed, and left. Martin thought he was not tired, but in fact he fell asleep almost immediately.
When he woke up hours later, Martin was faced with a decision. He thought about running. He could pack up the clothes and other items, and just take off. They’d never be able to find him again. But … Well, he liked Ben and Gabriel, and he didn’t want to treat them that way. Maybe, after he got sent back to the welfare people, he could visit them sometimes. The weekend, from Friday evening on, had been the happiest times he could remember. No. He could not run off and not let them know where he was. He knew those guys. If they knew, they would feel obligated to report him to the authorities, so it was stay or else lose contact. He worried about that most of the morning, and past lunch, which he made for himself. He watched some television. He investigated the bookshelves. Then he fell asleep.
Later that afternoon, Ken van Meter came by Ben’s office. He was flushed with excitement. “I found out some really interesting things about little Martin,” he announced.
When Ken arrived, Ben had just completed his last appointment of the day. So, he suggested stopping by the apartment and sharing what he had learned with Martin.
“No. I think you need to hear this first, then decide what to do about it,” Ken insisted. So, they went back into Ben’s office.
Ken was jittery with excitement. “When Martin told us on Friday that his mother had been killed about a year ago, I went back into the newspaper files to find the story. Here it is,” he said as he laid a photocopy of a newspaper article on the desk. “May 7, 2006. Residents of the neighborhood around 13th and Russell reported gunfire. When the police arrived, they found the body of an Hispanic woman, aged about thirty. She had been shot in the head. A couple of witnesses, who declined to be identified, told the cops there had been a drug deal going down when a rival dealer showed up. There was shooting, then one of the persons involved got in his car. A minute later, the passenger door opened, and the body was pushed out, then the car sped away. The case is still listed as unsolved by the police.
“That story gave me a name. The dead woman was identified as Maria de Montserrat Sotomayor. I went to see Zip Todd yesterday. You know he can do all kinds of things on the computer. He dug up a birth certificate. Here’s a copy,” Ken said, laying that on top of the newspaper article.
Ben studied the certificate. It was for the birth of a female child, Maria de Montserrat Sotomayor, on 3 November 1976. The parents were listed as Eduardo Sotomayor and Maria de Guadalupe Chavez. Ben studied it, but was not as excited as Ken expected him to be. “Okay, so that’s settled, but I would have preferred a birth certificate for Martin,” Ben said.
“You don’t see it, do you?” Ken insisted. “Maria de Guadalupe Chavez, wife of Eduardo Sotomayor?”
“No, sorry. Doesn’t ring any bells,” Ben replied.
“Okay. Maybe there’s no reason you should know her full name, but you know her,” Ken said.
“I do?”
“Yes. When’s the last time you were at my folks’ place?” Ken asked.
“I don’t know. Sometime during the Christmas holidays, I expect,” Ben answered.
“And do you remember seeing the housekeeper? The same one who’s been with them for maybe seven years now?” Ken pressed.
“I guess. But, you don’t mean … ”
“I do mean. Our housekeeper, Lupe, is Maria de Guadalupe Sotomayor, maiden name Chavez. She’s Martin’s grandmother!” Ken exclaimed.
“Oh, wow! Now that is exciting news, even if you did have to lead up to it by the most arcane method imaginable,” Ben replied, now also excited for his little buddy. Maybe … well, he was kind of hoping … but a grandmother was a blood relative.
“There is a delicate aspect to this,” Ken said. “Lupe always said her daughter was married, and had moved away. I don’t know whether she knows the truth, or has been as much in the dark as anyone else on this.”
“You talk to Lupe. After all, you’ve known her for seven years. I’ll talk to Martin. And we’ll see about getting a birth certificate for him, too. He did tell us his birthday was coming up on this Thursday, and he will be fourteen, so we know where to look, and now, with the mother’s name, it will be even easier,” Ben proposed.
“Okay. If I were you, I’d visit Zip. He’s a lot faster than the Vital Records Office,” Ken said as he prepared to leave.
When Ben got home, he found Gabriel and Martin engaged in an intensive battle on the game box. “I’ve got some news,” he announced.
“Not now,” Gabriel replied. “We’re at a critical stage. Besides, it’s your turn to prepare dinner.”
So Ben left them to their contest, and changed clothes into something less formal, then went into the kitchen to begin dinner preparations. It was not until dinner was almost ready that the contest broke up, with Martin yelling in victory, and Gabriel howling in defeat. They washed up, then helped set the table. Once they were all seated, and Ben said grace, Gabriel said, “Okay, what’s your news?”
“Ken van Meter came by the office this afternoon. He found Martin’s grandmother,” Ben said.
“What? I never knew I had a grandmother,” Martin said in surprise.
“Is that like not having a father?” Ben kidded him.
Martin gave him a disgusted look. “So, give. Who is she?”
“As it turns out, it’s someone Gabriel and I have met many times. For the past seven years, she has been the housekeeper for Ted and Jane Frances Williams,” Ben said.
“Wow,” Gabriel said, “Lupe?”
“Yes. Maria de Guadalupe Sotomayor, born Chavez,” Ben replied.
“Wait. Who are Ted and Jane Frances Williams?” Martin asked.
“Oh, sorry. They’re Ken van Meter’s parents,” Ben told him.
“If they’re his parents, how come he’s named van Meter?” Martin demanded. He seemed to think there was some subterfuge going on, or maybe that was just his way of dealing with this new information.
“When Ken married Lauren van Meter, he took her name. Said he liked it, and she had made so many concessions, he would make this one. I don’t think it was much of a concession, though. He really likes the name,” Ben answered.
“That’s weird,” Martin decided.
“Yeah, I guess. But they’re still good people. And so is your grandmother. We’ll have to arrange a meeting soon,” Ben said.
The meeting came more quickly than expected. They had no sooner finished dinner and begun clearing off, when the doorbell sounded. Gabriel answered the door, to be greeted with a flood of Spanish. An elderly woman rushed into the room, and grabbed Martin, weeping and babbling in Spanish.
“I tried to get her to wait until tomorrow, or at least call first, but she was so excited she would not wait,” Ken explained, following Lupe into the apartment.
It took a while for things to settle down, even a little. Eventually, Lupe was calm enough to tell her part of the story. Sitting very close to Martin, and holding him even closer, she related the story of her daughter. Maria was a good girl. She was smart and pretty. She was doing very well at Baltimore High School. She was not allowed to date, however, by her very old fashioned father. But then, in the fall of 1992, when she was a sophomore, and before her sixteenth birthday, she turned up pregnant. Maria had been sneaking out and dating high school boys, and had become very fond of one, but she adamantly refused to name him. Her father threw a fit. He proclaimed that she had disgraced him. He withdrew her from school as soon as she turned sixteen, the legal leaving age, and kept her isolated at home. That lasted for several months, but during the Christmas holidays in 1992-93, Maria ran away. Lupe never saw her daughter again. The only communication was a note stuck in the mailbox one day in March, saying she had a son, and named him Martin John for his father. Lupe never saw the story about the killing last spring, as she did not want to know about all the drugs and violence, which made up a major part of the news.
By the time Lupe finished her story, Martin was bawling. “Mom never had it good. Things always went wrong for her. That is so sad,” he cried.
They talked some more. Martin agreed to visit his grandmother again the next day. She could not quite grasp what his medical problem was, and by unspoken consent no one mentioned the gay aspect of Martin’s story, but she was obviously overjoyed to find him, and Martin himself was pleased, even if completely flummoxed, at the discovery of family. Maybe he would not have to go back to juvie after all, though, if Lupe were working for Ken’s parents, and living there, there might not be room. Everything was so complicated.
The next morning Martin dressed in some of his new clothes. He still had to be careful about his butt, so Ben drove him over to the Williams house on his way to his office. He spent the day there, helping his grandmother with her housekeeping, meeting Jane Frances and the other staff, and listening to his grandmother talk about his mother and their family. To his surprise, he found that he was related to Luis Garcia, called El Zorro, the jefe of the Hispanic gang which ruled part of the neighborhood. He thought that hilarious as Paco had been deathly afraid of El Zorro. More immediately, he was also related to Gabriel Valderama. His grandmother’s mother was a sister of Luis Garcia’s grandmother, and his grandmother was a cousin of Gabriel’s mother. This was exciting news for Martin. After his mother’s death last spring, he thought he was all alone in the world. Now he had family.
Ben was intrigued with the fact that Martin had been named after his father, and was named Martin John. That combination was frequently found in the Spalding family. Of course, they did not have a patent on it, and it could be mere coincidence, but Ben realized that Martin’s mother overlapped at Baltimore with his brother. She would have been a year ahead of him, and a year behind his brother, Martin John Spalding. Martin has been a monk at Gethsemeni Abbey ever since 1998, but Ben knew he dated, and had sex, while in high school. Could it be? During his lunch period that Tuesday, he went to Todd House and spoke with Zip Todd. Zip agreed to do a search for Martin’s birth certificate,
Shortly before it was time for him to leave the office for the day, Zip appeared, and handed him a print-out of a birth certificate. It was as Ben had suspected. The document showed the birth of Martin John Sotomayor, male, on 23 March 1993. Mother was Maria del Montserrat Sotomayor, age 16, unmarried. Father was Martin John Spalding, age 17.
There was no question in Ben’s mind that he had to tell Martin about this, but he was not certain about telling his brother. Brother Martin was something of a recluse, spending his life attempting to atone for what he had done earlier. Was it best to tell him he had a son? He had never mentioned it, even when he went into one of his penitential moods, and recited all his sins. After giving this some thought, Ben decided it should not be his decision alone.
When Ben got home, he found Gabriel and Martin rejoicing in their newfound relationship, even though it was that of second cousins once removed. Ben was very patient as they laid out all the family connections Martin now had on his mother’s side, including Luis Garcia, El Zorro. Martin told of how Paco had feared El Zorro, and carefully planned to avoid any meeting with him. Only after they had exhausted that topic, after they had dined, did Ben introduce his discovery, or rather, Zip’s.
“I have some news for you, too, Martin,” he began.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“I asked a friend of ours, Dr. Todd, to find a copy of your birth certificate. He’s very good at finding things on the internet. Here you are,” Ben said as he handed the boy the copy.
“Oh, wow! I never saw this before. There’s my mom, and … and … What is this? It says here my father was Martin John Spalding,” Martin wondered.
“Yes. That got me wondering, too. You remember your grandmother said you were named Martin John for your father,” Ben said, drawing it out as long as possible. Gabriel by this time was aware of what was going on. He knew his partner’s brother.
“But … but, your name is Spalding,” Martin said coming gradually to realize what this meant. “Am I related to you, too, like to Gabriel?”
Ben smiled. Time to end the mystery. “Yes, Martin, you are. Martin John Spalding is my brother.”
“Well, where is the bastard? I want to tell him just what I think of him for going off and leaving my mom like that, and never, ever letting me know he even existed,” Martin said with great heat.
Ben had not considered this possibility, but he immediately saw that he should have. He decided to play it cool, and let Martin work it out for himself. “Slow down. We’re not going anywhere this evening. I’ve thought about this a lot since your grandmother turned up yesterday. I knew your mother, but very slightly. She was a year ahead of me in school at Baltimore, and dropped out after only a few months, so we were in school together only from August to October. I don’t remember my brother dating her, but he must have. Martin is two years older then me. And, by the way, you also have a set of grandparents, an aunt and uncle, and several first cousins, as well as some more distant relatives on the Spalding side.”
“Oh, geez. I don’t know what to do with all this. When I woke up yesterday, I had no family at all, and now I’ve got slews of them,” Martin said, sitting down and looking totally confused.
“Here, this might help,” Ben said, pulling out two photo albums from a cabinet. “Gabriel and I both have family photos. Look through these, and ask any questions you want.”
The three of them sat at the dining room table, and went through the albums, Gabriel’s first, as the connection to him had been discovered first. Gabriel talked with great affection about his parents, his step-mother, his sisters and brother, and their families. As pictures appeared, page by page, he told Martin stories about the people portrayed. There were plenty of pictures of Ben, from the time they were in high school on. There was also a set of pictures from the wedding of Luis Garcia to Daisy Chichester, and of their baby when he came. Then, there was the Spalding album. As soon as Martin saw a photo of his father, he asked again, “Where is he now?”
“Okay, I need to tell you a very sad story. Martin got involved with our cousin Rick, who was not a very nice person. Because of that involvement, he did nothing when Rick raped out sister, Emily. Emily is my twin. I was extremely angry at both Rick and Martin, but especially my brother for doing nothing to protect Emily. But in the middle of all this, Martin had a nervous breakdown. The guilt was eating him up. He had to be hospitalized for a while. Then, he made the decision to spend the rest of his life atoning for what he had done. Martin joined the monastery at Gethsemeni.”
“A monastery? You mean he’s a monk? Geez!” Martin wondered.
“Yes, my brother is a monk. He’s been there since Memorial Day of 1998,” Ben said.
“Well, if he let your cousin rape your sister, I guess he raped my mother, too, the bastard,” Martin declared.
“No, I don’t think so. But we’ll work on that. Obviously, we can’t get Martin here, and it takes a little planning to go there. Gabriel and I do have to work, you know. But we can visit my parents, your grandparents. How about tomorrow?”
“Oh, yeah. More grandparents. Yeah, okay. Tomorrow’s fine. Uh, I guess that makes you my uncle,” Martin deduced.
“I guess it does. It’s a good thing we get along, isn’t it?” Ben half teased.
“Uh, I don’t want to, you know, be greedy or pushy or anything, but about the juvie … ” Martin stammered out.
Ben interrupted him. “Martin, you will never go back to the juvenile facility. Gabriel and I have already talked about this. We’d like for you to live with us. If that doesn’t work out, you will live with another of your relatives. You have family now.”
“Oh, geez,” Martin said, and began crying, hugging first one, then the other of his newfound kinsmen.
Ben got on the phone, and called his parents. John and Mary Jane were astonished, but did not doubt that Martin really was their grandson. They knew that their son had been kind of wild in high school. Ben then called his sister and brother-in-law. Predictably, Emily bubbled over with excitement at finding a new nephew. They all agreed to meet Martin the following evening for dinner at the elder Spaldings.
Once again, Martin went to bed late and excited by the unexpected changes in his life. He felt really good about the prospect of staying with Ben and Gabriel, and that swamped everything else, including his anger at his father and his apprehension at meeting a new set of relatives.
The next day, Ken van Meter showed up again at Ben’s office. “We’ve got to work out some other arrangement,” he told his friend with a grin, “the office thinks I’m relieving my stress and anxiety on taxpayer time.”
But they worked through the paperwork assigning Martin John Sotomayor to the care of his uncle, Dr. Benedict Joseph Spalding. In order to avoid any objections from homophobic paper-pushers in another office, no mention was made of Gabriel, but it was understood by everyone concerned that he would be equally responsible for the boy, and the paperwork on that would be filed along with legal action as soon as Anjali Pennington could get it accomplished. The current single assignment was intended to be temporary.
When Gabriel got home from work, he found Martin sprawled out in front of the television, watching a gay porn DVD he had discovered in the guys’ bedroom. That led to a heated discussion, not about gay porn, but about respecting the privacy of the others in the apartment. Martin found that there were definite boundaries as to what was permitted and what was not, and he had better get busy discovering what those boundaries were.
But, once Gabriel finished dressing him down about going through the bedroom he shared with Ben, he said, “Grab your jacket. We’re going to the barber so you’ll look presentable when you meet Ben’s parents.”
“No,” Martin objected, “I like my hair this length.”
“But it’s down over your ears. Come on,” Gabriel insisted.
Martin dug in his heels. “Is this my punishment for getting into your stuff? Do I get tossed out if I refuse?”
“Good Lord no!” Gabriel responded. “It’s not that serious. Ben and I just want you to look your best.”
“Then I won’t go. I think I look my best with long hair,” Martin insisted.
Gabriel gave him a hard look, but decided it wasn’t worth a conflict. He grabbed the boy by his hair, and pulled him to him. “You know, I think I like it long, too. It gives me an added hold on you.” He hugged Martin.
“Maybe I’ll reconsider,” the lad grinned.
“Too late,” Gabriel said, jerking Martin’s hair.
“This having parents bit is complicated,” Martin said.
“This having kids bit is complicated, too,” Gabriel agreed.
When Ben got home from his office, he gave Martin a look, then looked to Gabriel. His partner said, “After lengthy discussion and due consideration, we decided there were advantages to allowing Martin to keep his hair long.” With that, he gave it a jerk. Martin just grinned. Ben rolled his eyes, but they all piled into the car and took off for the Balaclava neighborhood and the home of John and Mary Jane Spalding.
When Martin saw the home in which his grandparents lived, he let out a whistle. “Wow, are we rich?”
Ben and Gabriel laughed. Ben answered, “My folks are pretty well off.”
“Then what are poor folks like you and me doing here, Mr. Plumber?” Martin teased Gabriel.
“Hey, watch it, Kid. I like being a plumber,” Gabriel responded.
When they entered the house, not only were Ben’s parents awaiting them, but Emily and Tom Johnson and their children were there as well. Included among them of course was their elder daughter, Elizabeth, who was only a few months younger than Martin, and their elder son, who was also named Martin John.
In the course of the evening, Elizabeth, who was called Liz now, said, “Hey, there’s a dance at school coming up. You can go with me.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Martin responded. “I’m gay.”
“Well, geez, I was just talking about a dance. I wasn’t suggesting making babies,” his cousin replied.
That caused the whole assembly to break up. It turned out that Martin did not know how to dance, so Liz set about teaching him, and before the evening was out, he was doing pretty well. He also found himself committed to attend the dance at school with her.
As to his like named cousin, the nine year old was at first sulky, objecting to this new guy having the same name. Martin solved that problem by calling him Johnson, at which his cousin began calling him Sotomayor, and thus they continued all evening, to the amusement of their elders.
Before the evening ended, it was agreed among the elders that Ben would write to his brother, explaining the situation, and not plan on a visit unless Martin himself suggested it. This was done, and about two weeks later a letter was received at the apartment, addressed to Martin. In it, his father apologized for the past. He admitted that he had been irresponsible in several ways, but insisted that he never knew that Maria, Martin’s mother, had become pregnant by him. He said he dated Maria during the summer of 1992, when she was between her freshman and sophomore years, and he was a year older. They had sex frequently, and he admitted without him giving a thought to whether she was on protection or not. He accused himself of selfishness in thinking that such things were just for the female to consider. Martin, who was known as Brother Martin in the monastery, expressed a desire to meet his son, and suggested that they come on Easter, or shortly after, as he was not permitted visitors during Lent. As a result, arrangements were made for Ben, Gabriel, and Martin to all spend Easter at Gethsemeni.
Before that, the practical matter of school had to be tackled. Martin had been enrolled in a public school until he ran away back in January, but, as he told Ben, he had been pulled out quite frequently for some purpose of his boss, Paco. His record was not impressive, even though Ben was convinced he was intelligent. He was taken to St. Francis Xavier Parochial School, where he was put in the eighth grade, as he had been in the public school, but was quickly found to be far behind the class in many ways. To allow him to graduate on time, Martin agreed to a ramped up series of studies at home to complement what he would be getting in school. He was actually pleased that Ben and Gabriel, and the teachers, too, recognized that he was not dumb, and he determined to show them they were right. He worked his butt off for the next two months, and more or less made up for a year’s poor schooling. At the end of the year, he had a mediocre report card, but he did graduate from eighth grade, and felt a real sense of achievement in doing so.
Martin had the best birthday of his life on March 23. He got lots of presents, and had a party, at which he had to dance with his cousin. Some new friends from school were there, along with family. But he told Ben and Gabriel later the best present was having them.
The visit to Gethsemeni went well. They spent Saturday in preparation, then participated in the Easter Vigil Mass that evening, and sunrise prayers in the morning, all before even meeting with Brother Martin. Ben pointed out his brother to the boy, but it was not until after breakfast that they could actually meet. Martin had gone prepared to be angry with his father, but when they met they both cried and hugged. The monk told the boy he regretted many things from his life before the monastery, but none more than not even knowing that his son existed. In a private moment alone, Brother Martin remarked to Ben that it was overwhelming to know he had two kinsmen, both named Martin John for him. That startled Ben for a moment. He never thought about Emily’s son being actually named for their brother. Ben told his brother about how the boys had solved that issue when they first met. Brother Martin nodded. “I have a couple of wise namesakes.”
The legal system acted slowly, but Martin did spend time with Ken van Meter and Anjali Pennington, and just a little later with the police. As a result, Paco was picked up in the middle of a drug deal, so he was indicted for that, as well as for child abuse and pimping Martin. It would be some time before a trial took place, but Martin felt really good about that.
And so it was that, by the time school let out, and the summer vacation began, Martin John Sotomayor had a new life.