Second Chances (13 page)

L
ATER
in the afternoon, after lunch, everyone sat around relaxed and enjoying the day. The sounds of conversation and laughter drifted across the field. Staff members and kids were spread wide and a good time was had. Robbie was sitting with Brian and me.

Antonio and Jason had left to go back home, but not before we had to practically force Jason to go with his dad. It was good to see the two of them get along so well; Jason could be a little standoffish, and Robbie didn’t make friends easily. He and Robbie were having a great time, though, and he didn’t want to leave his new friend. They said their good-byes, though, and Antonio stared at Brian again for a moment then left. Brian was on his stomach while he lightly dozed and Robbie sat next to me on the blanket.

“Mr. Mark, can I tell you something? I don’t want you to tell anybody. Can I trust you?” he asked. I looked at him. He was so earnest. I knew if it was something important, that I’d have to disclose it to his therapist. But I wouldn’t betray his trust. I couldn’t.

“Yeah, Robbie, you can trust me,” I told him. He waited a minute, and studied his sneakers. When he did speak, it was in a low voice and loaded with emotion.

“I’m gay,” he said so very quietly.

“Robbie, look at me,” I told him. He looked up at me and his eyes were heavy with tears that I just knew would spill over at any second.

“Robbie, it’s okay. Do you hear me? It’s okay. It doesn’t change anything. Have you told anyone else?” I asked. He would know why I was asking. It could affect his therapy.

“My therapist. She knows. Nobody else. Nobody wants me and now nobody will ’cause nobody wants a faggot for a son,” he whispered and tears slid down his cheeks. He didn’t even reach up to wipe them away.

Fuck. This boy, this giant-hearted boy didn’t deserve to hurt like this. I wasn’t supposed to touch him, because protocols and policies said it could be taken as an inappropriate advance. Fuck that. I pulled that gentle boy by my side and shielded him from the view of everyone else and hugged him with one arm. Let his silent sobs flow until they ran their course. I picked up one of towels we had brought for the pups to lay on and wiped his eyes and nose.

“Now you listen to me and you listen good,” I told him. “You’re a wonderful, beautiful boy, and any family would be stupid to not want you. You are
not
a faggot, and never let me hear you use that word again. That’s a filthy word, and you’re too good to use that kind of language. Don’t you ever think that you are anything but a good boy, you hear me?”

I felt his nod against my side. “Mr. Mark?” his whisper drifted up to my ears.

“Yeah, Robbie?” I said.

“I wish I was yours. I wish I was your son and I could come live with you and Mr. Brian, and have dogs like Lucy and Ricky. I’d try to make you really proud,” he breathed.

God damn it. My fucking heart broke and my own tears spilled down. I choked down a sob before I could answer him. This was not the place to be having this kind of conversation. I wondered what was going on with Robbie that his emotions were running this close to the surface. He was usually a lighthearted kid, making jokes and avoiding serious feelings and discussions. In fact, the discussions I had heard were around how he wasn’t making progress dealing with his therapeutic goals. Then I remembered. He wanted to see his sister and his aunt had said no. His therapist was trying to arrange a family session and not meeting with any cooperation.

“Me too, Robbie. And if it was possible, I would. I
would
. You just remember, your sister loves you. It isn’t her that’s saying no right now. You stay brave, okay?” I said. And I meant it. That boy had wormed his way into my heart and I loved him. Wanted the best for him. Right at that moment, I hated his parents, hated his aunt.

I looked over at Brian and saw his open eyes, so wide open, like his heart. And so full of love and pain, just like mine. And I saw him mouth to me, “I love you so much.”

That’s all it took. I let all the hate go and just sat there, one arm around Robbie, listening to the quiet sounds of the fun winding down. We all sat there deep in our thoughts until the afternoon drifted into evening and we all had to go back to our homes.

December 2004

W
HEN
I got in to the office that Monday after Christmas, I knew something was wrong immediately. I’d taken the week off and felt relaxed and ready to get back to work. Usually the kids were at breakfast and I would see staff taking various boys or girls back and forth between buildings, and there was an air of activity. I didn’t hear any background noise, and Lisa Franklin, one of the therapists, was waiting outside my office.

Not a good sign.

I greeted her and opened up my door and asked her to come in. I took a deep breath and turned to face her. “Lisa, what’s wrong? This place feels… hollow or something.” She sat on the edge of my desk and just looked at me for a moment. Finally, she sighed.

“A group of boys ran last night. Six of them,” she started. “They waited ’til shift change and kicked the door open. Four of them came back. The police picked up one and he’s in detention.”

I knew. I dreaded what she was going to say next but I already knew.

“Robbie. He ran, didn’t he? He’s the one that isn’t back,” I stated flatly. No question there. She nodded. And I felt cold and numb and didn’t know I’d missed something ’til Lisa kept repeating my name. I looked up and blinked.

“Mark, he left you a note,” she gently said.

No. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to know.

I hadn’t realized I was speaking out loud. “Don’t blame yourself. This was a choice Robbie made, Mark. He was placed here for reason,” she said.

Oh, fuck you too. I knew why he did it. He’d wanted to come to my house on Christmas Morning and it was against policy, and I was told, in no uncertain terms, that it wasn’t a fight I was going to win. I mean, I understood the reasons. Other kids got jealous. Kids formed inappropriate attachments to staff. Staff leave. Kids leave.

My heart left.

She handed me the piece of notebook paper, folded over with “Mr. Mark” written on it. “Want me to stay?” she asked gently. I shook my head. She left and quietly shut the door behind her.

I looked at the note, and then after I grabbed my balls in one hand and my courage in the other, I opened it and read.

Dear Mr. Mark,

I have to go. They won’t let me see my sister and you can’t take me home with you. Nobody wants me. I hate being here. Christmas sux. I know somebody that will let me stay with him and it won’t be bad. I knew him before.

Before I go I want to tell you I love you. Thank you for being my friend. Please tell Lucy and Ricky I will miss them and to be good and maybe you and Mr. Brian can take them to the park one day and they will be happy and have fun.

It’s better this way. Another kid who needs to be here can have my bed.

I will miss you. This is better though. He don’t care that I am gay. And I can work for him and maybe one day I can make enough money to have a minature pincher for me and an apartment.

Love, your friend,

Robbie Gordon

Why was it raining inside my office, I thought. There were drops of rain on the letter.

H
OW
long I sat there I couldn’t tell you. Eventually I picked up the phone and called Brian and let him know what’d happened. “Come home, sweetheart. Take the rest of the day off and come on home,” he said.

“I’ll be okay. I think if I work, I won’t worry so much about it. And maybe he’ll come back. Maybe they’ll find him,” I said, more to convince myself than him.

“If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. He’s a smart kid. Let him cool off and he might come back. He said he knew somebody. Is there any note in his file who he… who… the man who he knew when he was tricking,” he said gently.

“Oh fuck, Brian, he can’t. He wouldn’t. I have to talk to Lisa. I’ll talk to you later. I love you. Thank you, I didn’t even think about that.” I hung up and jumped up to go see Lisa again.

I found her in her office. I went in and shut the door. “Lisa,” I started before she could say anything, “could he have gone back to Zev? The bastard that was giving him drugs and pimping him out?”

“Why would you think that, Mark?” she asked.

“You read the note. He said he knew someone. And he wants to make money. Can we call the cops?” I wanted to know. She thought about it. Then she reached for the phone and made the call.

She managed to get the officer that took the case information. From the set of her shoulders, I could tell the news wasn’t good. “Unfortunately, he can’t do much. They’ll do a drive-by and take a look to see if he might be there. No promises. And you know the drill. Not a high-priority case,” she sadly said.

I just stared. How could a kid on the streets not be a priority? Oh, yeah. There were hundreds on the streets in this fucking city. Well, that didn’t mean that I couldn’t look for him, I told myself. I wouldn’t forget.

A
WEEK
later I was at Antonio’s place, exhausted. After work, I’d been driving all over the Woodruff Park area looking for Robbie. Then I got up at five and patrolled the area and tried to talk to anybody there. No luck and my hope had faded.

Antonio’d opened a bottle of wine and two glasses had kicked my ass. When he got me on the massage table, he started to cuss. “Damn it, Mark. What the fuck?” he asked, concern and anger in his voice. “You’re a wreck. Your fucking muscles’re jumping. When did you eat something last? Hurting yourself won’t help Robbie.”

His hands tore into my back, and through sheer force of will he tamed the tension there. I felt myself relax some and before I knew it I started to doze. When he tapped my foot for me to turn over, I almost didn’t have the energy to do it. “That’s it. Where’s your cell phone? I’m calling Brian,” he said.

I only heard part of the conversation. The table was padded and I thought,
I could just take a quick nap
. Then I could drive down to Edgewood and see if Robbie was out there tonight.

“Come on, big guy. I talked to your man and you’re spending the night here tonight. He’ll call your boss in the morning and you can take a sick day. They’ll understand,” he said.

That got through. “No, man. I have to go check and see if he’s out tonight and go home and make sure Brian’s okay and that he took his medicine and go to work and check on Robbie in the morning and….”

He pulled me up off the table and put his arm around me. “Shh. It’s already decided, baby. Brian said to tell you he loves you and not to worry, he took his meds. When you wake up you’re gonna tell me what he needs medicine for. But right now me and him agree on one thing. Your ass is mine tonight,” he joked and slapped my bare butt with his big hand.

“In your fucking dreams, straight boy,” I managed to joke. He had me in his bedroom now, turned the covers back, and put me under them.

“Sweet dreams, sweet man,” he whispered and I felt a brush of lips on my forehead. Then sleep took me.

W
HEN
I woke up, something was different but I was too groggy to figure out what. I was in bed, on my side, and my guy was behind me with an arm thrown over me and his warm body pressed into me. His morning wood brushed against my thigh. And his breath puffed against my neck.

Nice. I liked being the little spoon sometimes.

So I did what any man would do. I reached back and pulled him closer to me. I really wanted the closeness, needed it. God, the memory of what happened the past week started to creep in and I knew I needed to be held. Two strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me close.

Wait a minute. When did Brian shave down there? And his cock didn’t quite feel…

“Morning, baby,” Antonio murmured in my ear. I stiffened for a minute, feeling awkward. Then I relaxed and just lay there. God knew I needed someone to touch me. I wanted to lay down my armor, my strength and my pain for just a minute and let someone hold me. I wanted to hide, be protected and not think about Robbie on the streets or Brian’s condition.

Please forgive me for being weak
, I thought and sent up a silent prayer and plea. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and relaxed into Antonio’s strong arms, letting him hold me. He sensed something, my need, my surrender, whatever it was. He went soft and tightened his hold on me, wrapping his arms and legs around me and just surrounded me.

He softly hummed some nameless tune in my ear. I felt myself drifting and I must have dozed off again for a minute. When I woke up again, he slowly loosened his grip on me, rolled over and got up out of bed. “Lay there for a few more minutes. I’m going to put a pot of coffee on and I’ll be back in a bit,” he said.

He walked out of the bedroom. I rolled over on my back and felt more peace than I had in days. I felt like I’d be able to get through the day now.