The Adventures of Stevie #36
These stories were told to me by friends and other people. Some of them
are true. Some of them are only partly true. Some of them should have
been true. LOL
My first post about Stevie ("Call me Stephen!") was when he was 12 and
in summer camp and was told by another camper. This was from a time
before computers would fit on a desk and when people communicated with
friends in other countries by actual letters sent through the postal
service. When children did this those friends were called "penpals".
Carlos is Stevie's penpal in Argentina and knows English. This is a
fictional contrivance to enable Stevie to tell us his stories because
he isn't here in person. I think.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
Stevie's school is for gifted children who don't fit in regular schools.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stevie is 11 in this story. It is the winter holiday break of year 2 of
his special school.
The Adventures of Stevie #36 "Disowned"
Dear Carlos,
Jeremy called me at 5 in the afternoon. He was crying. He is in real
bad trouble. His father made him leave his home and never come back,
because he is gay. I wanted to ask what happened but I didn't want
anybody else to hear it so I asked him to call back at 8 o'clock at
night on my father's office phone, and gave him the number. I hoped
father wouldn't be upset with me for doing that. When he came home from
work at 5:30 I signaled emergency and we went into his office. I told
him what Jeremy told me and what I told Jeremy. He said I did well.
Then I said like I was desperate, which I was, "We HAVE to help him! He
needs a place to live and some way he can pay for college next year. I
can't bear for him to feel bad. I LOVE him!"
Father said "What to you mean by you love him?" I said "I love lots
of people and he is one of them. If you mean did we do sex, I can tell
you we didn't and we won't. You know him. I don't know how anybody
could not love him. Everybody did at camp, even the director. I HAVE to
help him, but I don't know how. I know one thing. He can't live here
all the time. Mother would hurt him in his mind and feelings real bad."
Father said, "Yes, that much is true. I will see about some things
right now, and we will discuss it with him when he calls." He was
picking up the phone when I was going out of his office.
I didn't want to eat supper. I thought I was going to throw up and
didn't want to make a mess, but I had to eat. Mother doesn't allow any
excuses for not eating her terrible cooking. She would make me stay at
the table all night to finish if I had to. I really didn't want to miss
Jeremy's call. I forced myself to eat like normal for me, but I
couldn't hold it in after we left the table. I made it to the bathroom
in time to throw up in the toilet. I turned on the water in the sink to
make noise so they might not hear what I was doing. I don't remember
what I did until 8, except I was walking all over the different rooms.
I couldn't be still.
Father and me were in his office when the phone rang. It was Jeremy.
He told us he couldn't hide who he was from his parents anymore, and
told them he was gay. His mother cried but said she still loved him.
HIS FATHER PUNCHED JEREMY IN HIS FACE AND BROKE HIS NOSE!!! His father
said he couldn't live there any more and he wasn't his son anymore
forever. This is the first time I ever wanted to kill somebody. Really.
Kill. I think I would have if his father were in front of me right
then. I was standing next to our high top wood office guest chair, and
holding on to the top of the back with my left hand. I crushed and
splintered it to little bits just by squeezing it hard. It cut my hand
but I didn't feel it. I knew because I saw blood, after I heard the
wood yell at me for hurting it. I hid my hand from father, behind me.
I told father "We have to go to the hospital," which was where Jeremy
still was, because he didn't have anyplace to go. "He needs somebody
and we are all he has right now." Father agreed, but I could see him
trying to think up a reason for mother. I showed him my hand and "Here
is our excuse." He nodded and told Jeremy we would be there as soon as
we could. I don't know why father agreed with me about everything,
because he is a hard man. I don't think it was because he cared that
much about Jeremy. Maybe it was because he was angry about what
happened to him, and he knew It would be VERY bad for me if we didn't
help.
We went to the hospital. Jeremy was sitting with his mother in the
emergency room waiting room, with a big white bandage on the middle of
his face. I ran up to him and was about to grab him but slowed down and
stopped right in front of him, because I didn't know if I would hurt
him. He stood up. I leaned my head against his chest and cried my heart
out for him.
Jeremy said "Hey, it's alright, you should see the other guy. Not a
mark on him. It's not a big deal, it's only my nose," and he poked me.
I said "I know that, because it's not MY nose," and I poked him back.
Have you ever tried to cry and laugh at the same time? I think it's not
something you try, but don't. It makes you look really silly. Gives you
hiccups, too. I didn't care. He was still the real Jeremy I loved.
Father talked with Jeremy's mother. I sat with Jeremy and didn't do
anything but be with him and him with me. We didn't need to say
anything. Then a nurse came to us to take me to see the doctor for my
hand which I had forgot about. Jeremy went with me. The Doctor didn't
believe me about how it happened. Jeremy got upset and told him "He's
not a liar. If he says it happened that way, it did. He can prove how
strong his hands are, if you want to risk a broken hand yourself.
Shake?" The doctor didn't. Smart of him. I wasn't in a good mood.
Jeremy is staying with us until the holidays are over. Mother is
fussing over him in a good way, but I don't know how long that will
last. The other kids like him so there is no trouble there. His mother
went to her home from the hospital, and we drove home with Jeremy. He
sat in the back seat with me. We hugged all the way home. I tried very
hard not to cry for him because he said it would make him cry and make
his nose hurt. I could NOT let that happen. He sleeps in mother's
sewing room. Sometimes I sleep with him there. I have permission
because I told my parents Jeremy is lonely and hurting and needs a
friend with him sometimes to keep him company in the dark. Father said
it was a good idea and it was very considerate of me, before mother
could be mean about it. I didn't know if she would have, because she
likes him, but it's better not to take any chances with her.
Father found a family who will let Jeremy live with them until he
goes to college. They have two other children there who didn't have
real homes to go to, and father said they are really good people who
don't care if Jeremy is gay. My mother doesn't know. She just knows
there was a private family problem which would be better if he stayed
away from his home for a while. I think she thinks Jeremy's father is
an alcoholic. It might be true. Jeremy can go to college because his
mother's parents already put the money away for it. I was very happy
for him when I found out.
I thanked father for all his help. He told me, "Did I have a choice?"
He smiled a little when he said it. That's as much affection as he can
show me. I have to love who he is, not who I might want him to be. He
is much better without showing affection, than most fathers who show it
all the time, because I know he cares and would give his life for me,
and most of all, he likes and respects me for everything I am. I
wouldn't trade him for anybody.
Jeremy and his mother didn't tell the police what happened. His
mother didn't because she is afraid, and Jeremy didn't because he is
nice. I don't KNOW how anybody could not love and care about him. He
didn't do anything wrong. He never hurt anybody. He helps people all
the time. He is really nice and considerate and polite to everybody. He
can't help his feelings, and there is nothing wrong with them. People
should not be mean to him because of that. HE DOESN'T DESERVE IT.
I just made myself angry about it again. I will sleep with him
tonight. It will make me feel better. Him too. Love makes everybody
feel better when they need it. Everybody should have it and not hate. I
wish I could make everybody feel the love I give and receive. I don't
know how. Maybe I will someday.
Your friend,
Stephen
--
Grant
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