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    David McLeod
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Nemesis - 5. Chapter 5: Dike

Dike

Gary

It took almost a month to get Bobby assigned to Erewhon. Family Services wanted to put him back with the two stepparents. Idiots! I had to bring in a couple of lawyer friends to fight that … I could not have done it if they charged what they charge corporations. Both worked for the foundation pro bono. Both had been orphans. Both had been sexually abused by older boys at the orphanage; both had done the same to younger boys. They had been rescued by a couple who had the courage to adopt two, 16-year-old kids, and the smarts to bring them out of the mind-set of the orphanage, and into the real world. I knew their stories and they knew mine; no one else did.

They got a temporary order assigning Bobby to me …to Erewhon, really, but to live with me … and held off Family Services until the trial date. At the trial, the lawyers showed that the stepparents were unfit, and when Family Services couldn’t come up with anything better, got Bobby assigned permanently to Erewhon subject to future adoption. One more kid was taken out of a broken system. Finding a mommy and daddy for Bobby had gotten a whole lot easier.

Nemesis, however, was becoming more and more problematic. He told me that his “boss” was Dike, the goddess of justice. But, he didn’t know how to find Dike. He told me about the compulsion he felt to help Bobby, but he didn’t seem compelled to do any more “jobs.” He was getting depressed.

I divided my time between Bobby and Nemesis, but for Nemesis, other than trips to the library and the museum to research gods and goddesses, and some trips to the underbelly of Chicago to look for boys who needed help, I’m afraid we didn’t get much accomplished.

The first night after Bobby went to Erewhon, I woke up when Nemesis crawled into my bed. “Gary? You told Bobby you would hug him anytime he wanted. Would you … ”

He didn’t have to finish the question. I knew what he wanted. I wrapped my arms around him and held him as tightly as I dared. I felt his body shake with sobs. I felt his tears dripping on my chest. I felt his crying subside and his breathing slow as he fell asleep. I stayed awake for a long time, thinking. It didn’t do any good. I had no idea how to get the help this 12-year-old demi-god needed.

 

Nemesis

Gary put up with me more than I deserved. I know. I moped around the house. I know he was worried someone would see me when he took me with him to Erewhon, to Family Court, and to his office. No one ever did, though. The only people who saw me were the ones I chose to interact with … and there weren’t many of those.

I didn’t hear anyone else in pain. Gary took me looking a bunch of times. He took me to “meat markets,” where gay boys hung out looking to be picked up. He rescued a few boys and took them to Erewhon, but he never seemed to need me. He took me to juvenile detention facilities, and sprang a bunch of kids who had shoplifted to eat, or to feed younger brothers and sisters. He took me to places he called “orphan mills,” but nowhere did I hear anyone who needed me.

I didn’t know where to find Dike. Gary showed me how to use his computer and took me to museums and a big library; I looked up everything I could find on Nemesis and Dike—and Death—, but it didn’t help. No way Google was going to have their email addresses.

The first night after Bobby went to Erewhon, I couldn’t sleep. My bed was empty. My whole body felt empty. I went to Gary’s room. It was dark; I felt that he was asleep. I slid into bed with him. I was quivering … eagerness? I knew he wanted me. I saw it in his eyes and in his erections every time he saw me. Fear? I didn’t know what our relationship should be. So far, he had treated me like … like a porcelain doll he was afraid to break.

I knew he liked little boys … and I knew he fought against that, he pushed it away and spend his energy instead on helping boys. Still, I hoped he might feel something toward me.

Gary woke up when I got into his bed. I didn’t have to say anything. He wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me close. I forgot my eagerness and my fear. All I felt was …

… damn! I don’t know what I felt. I’ve never been in love, only in lust. But I think it was love. I felt Gary’s concern, and I felt his happiness. Does concern + happiness = love? Whatever, it was as close as I’d ever come before. I hoped it was real.

Oh, yeah, I got a stiffie. He did, too. I could feel it. But I didn’t feel sex from him, even though I felt sex about him. His body was reacting to something that his mind didn’t see. I’d have to think about that. For now, though, I felt safe and … yeah, I felt loved. And then, I fell asleep.

 

Gary

I knew that Nemesis and Bobby had been sleeping together. I also knew that they weren’t having sex. I was pretty sure that both of them were frustrated by that. But, there was nothing I could do. Nothing I knew to do. I was maybe as frustrated as they were.

The first night after Bobby went to Erewhon, I woke up when Nemesis slid into my bed. I was expecting it, actually. I felt his nervousness, and tried desperately to hid my own. He was the demi-god; he could feel what I felt. I couldn’t feel what he felt. Unfair. Actually, unfair didn’t begin to describe it.

I tried to bring love to the forefront of my mind. I realized how inadequate that was. Not love, itself, but my understanding of love. So I opened my thoughts to what I truly felt for Nemesis: concern for his happiness, and my own happiness that he could come to me for comfort. Two happinesses, I thought. I wonder if that means love.

There was no time to think further. Nemesis sighed. Yeah, a deep breath, a strong hug … and then he fell asleep. I think he was happy. I know I was. It was a start.

 

Two days later, I answered the doorbell to see a pair of US Marshalls. Behind me, Nemesis gasped. I ignored him. I knew by now that people couldn’t see or hear Nemesis unless he wanted them to.

“Morning, guys, what can I do for you?”

“Are you Garreth Walters?”

I nodded, and one of the men pushed a folded paper at me. “You’re served,” the man said.

“They are not what they seem!” Nemesis said.

I looked closely. The men seemed to dissolve and reform as green-scaly-skinned semi-human monsters. They were still in US Marshalls’ uniforms, and looked pretty threatening.

“Who are you guys?” I said, trying desperately to remain calm.

“Read the summons, asshole,” one said. I heard a scrape of metal on metal. Nemesis had drawn his sword. The two monster-marshals froze.

“Speak politely to my … my friend,” the boy said. “And answer his question.”

“We work for Dike,” one said. “Superior Court Judge Candi K. Everhart. She wants to see you … both of you.”

“You may tell her you did your duty,” Nemesis said. His voice was flat, devoid of the emotion I knew he must have felt. “Now, leave.” The men/monsters looked at him, turned, and left.

The sword was quieter going back into the scabbard. But I could feel Nemesis trembling.

 

Nemesis

I was torn between loyalty to Gary, who had shown me kindness, and my need to understand what was going on. I was torn between wanting to talk to Dike and fear of someone who would send monsters to summon me.

I think I did okay with the scions of Hermes who appeared as US Marshalls. Yeah, I knew who they were. I’d read about them when I was looking for Dike on the internet. Just about everyone thinks of Hermes as the “Florist Telegraph Delivery” image of Mercury: naked, wings on feet and doughboy helmet. You’ve seen it. No one seems to understand that the gods sometimes need someone to deliver bad news. That’s what Dike sent: bad dudes, monsters. My tummy tumbled when I saw them, and I thought I’d upchuck when they threatened Gary. Then, I remembered my sword, and drew it.

Apparently, they saw the sword, even though I don’t think Gary did. They were afraid of it. Things went better, then. Until they left, and Gary told me that we were going to obey the summons.

“Nemesis, you’ve been looking for Dike for a month. Now, you know where to find her. Besides, I’m trying to do something important. I need support from the community and from the government, including this judge. I don’t care if her marshals are evil; I don’t care if she, herself, is evil. I would walk the halls of Hell, itself, to succeed … ” He looked hard at me. It was an “I need a hug look” if I ever saw one.

Having not long ago walked the halls of Hell, myself, I sort of understood. I stepped into his outstretched arms. It was a good hug, and one I needed, too.

 

Gary

We were to report to the judge’s chambers at 10:00 the next morning. The guards checked me through the metal detectors and gave directions. I was no longer puzzled when people seemed to ignore Nemesis and his sword; I just hoped that was part of the mystery Dike would explain.

The woman behind the desk looked like a grandmother. Pleasant, curly white hair, a variegated blouse. The door closed behind us, and she changed: she grew about two feet taller and shed 50 years of age. Her hair turned black. All the softness in her face vanished with the wrinkles.

“Who are you, and why are you here?” She thundered. I hoped the office was soundproofed, and I knew she was talking to me.

“My name is Garreth Walters, but you know that,” I said. “Who are you … really?” I saw Nemesis reach for his sword, and grabbed his hand. He struggled, but I was firm. It didn’t occur to me until much later that I had overcome what I knew to be his super-human strength.

“I am Dike,” she said. “But you know that, as well. How dare you control my servant?”

“Because you haven’t,” I said. “You haven’t given him the guidance or instruction he deserves. You have ignored him. You may be busy, but you should have found time at least to let him know that you acknowledged him, and that you would talk to him.”

The goddess shrank, and once again became the grandmother. “Oy vey!” she said. “It’s been more than a century since a mortal has stood up to me. Abraham Lincoln was the last one. You show courage.”

“Right makes might, ma’am,” I said. “But you know that.”

The grandmother behind the desk smiled. My “ma’am” had bought something; my understanding of one of the most fundamental laws of human nature (and, I sincerely hoped, god-like nature), that right makes might bought something more. She was no longer threatening; I was no longer afraid.

Dike came from behind her desk and gestured us to a cozy conversation area in a corner of the office. The couches, complete with antimacassars, wouldn’t have been out of place in her home. Her home when she was being a grandmother, that is. She took Nemesis’s hand, and looked into his eyes. They stared at one another for several minutes. The boy nodded, occasionally. Twice he glanced at me. She’s talking to him … stuff probably I’m not supposed to know. Wonder what she’s saying about me.

 

Nemesis

Dike told me a lot, but she said there were things I’d have to learn for myself … things she couldn’t tell me. Experience is the best teacher, she’s said. Oh, and she said I didn’t have to wear the chiton all the time … just when I was on duty. She also told me I was wearing it backwards: my right arm, my sword arm, was supposed to be the naked one. I blushed.

When she finished, she hugged me. Both the 46-year-old man that I had been and the 12-year-old boy I now was returned the hug.

Then, she talked to Gary.

“Garreth Walters, you are a special person in your own right. I know your intentions with respect to the children at Erewhon are honorable. Still, I must ask if your intentions toward my servant are honorable?”

“Ma’am,” Gary said, “Why do you call him your servant rather than your son?”

I must have turned white. I felt dizzy. I had lied to Gary, and he had believed it … believed it enough to question a powerful goddess.

“My son?” she said. “Oh … please forgive him, Mr. Walters. He was upset and confused, and he didn’t want to upset or frighten you. He is not my son, but a god in his own right. Not as powerful as I or other of the elder gods, but still, a god.”

Gary nodded. “Understandable, ma’am. I thought, afterwards, that I might have led him into a lie. God or demi-god, he is a child, so the fault is mine. I ask you both to forgive me.”

I am a child, I thought. In so many ways. I scooted across the couch and put my arms around Gary. “Only if you will forgive me,” I said. He returned the hug. It felt really good to have his strong arms around me. I probably blushed a little … and then a whole lot more when he kissed my forehead and told me he forgave me.

Dike

Well! That little scene told me a lot about my newest Nemesis and about Mr. Walters. I was no longer concerned about their relationship. No matter where it went, I was sure it would be a loving thing.

Copyright © 2012 David McLeod; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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"Obama's Depression?" This happened before he was president and was caused, not just by one president, but by an ongoing refusal of the government and the American people to understand the global situation and instead to indulge ourselves in idiotic hysteria in the aftermath of 9-11. It happened because we went into two very expensive wars against countries that did not pose any serious threat to us and paid for them withj borrowed money. There is no mystery here, the initial influx of borrowed money into our economy bolstered a weak economy, but the bill came due in 2008. I can't say I have been thrilled with Obama, but it is very clear that this depression is the result of debts incurred during the Bush years because neither the president nor the congress was willing to open their eyes and confront the bill that was running, or to say openly that those two wars would have to be paid for. Unfortunately, it is the poor and middle classes who are footing the bill.

I can't decide whether or not I like the story. The ridiculous sideswipe at Obama got me too riled up.

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On 03/27/2012 11:33 AM, khasidi said:
"Obama's Depression?" This happened before he was president and was caused, not just by one president, but by an ongoing refusal of the government and the American people to understand the global situation and instead to indulge ourselves in idiotic hysteria in the aftermath of 9-11. It happened because we went into two very expensive wars against countries that did not pose any serious threat to us and paid for them withj borrowed money. There is no mystery here, the initial influx of borrowed money into our economy bolstered a weak economy, but the bill came due in 2008. I can't say I have been thrilled with Obama, but it is very clear that this depression is the result of debts incurred during the Bush years because neither the president nor the congress was willing to open their eyes and confront the bill that was running, or to say openly that those two wars would have to be paid for. Unfortunately, it is the poor and middle classes who are footing the bill.

I can't decide whether or not I like the story. The ridiculous sideswipe at Obama got me too riled up.

Thank you for your review.

 

First, please remember that my stories take place on alternate worlds that sometimes touch ours. Things may be different; witness the presence in this particular world of people with some unexplained powers. (By the way, that will be treated in future chapters … at least, there will be an attempt to explain them in secular humanistic, scientific terms.)

 

Second, the term “Obama depression,” as used, does not assign blame. It’s the fate of an incumbent to be blamed for present conditions regardless of what brought them on. President Herbert Hoover wasn’t responsible for the “great depression,” yet his name is inexorably linked to it by the nickname for shanty towns that sprang up across the nation: “Hoovervilles.”

 

Third, if I use my stories to create discussion—whether of magic, the art of writing, contemporary influences on traditional grammar, or politics, logic and propaganda—then I believe I’ve done some good. I’m glad if I had a part in encouraging you to express your viewpoint on the genesis of and influences on the current world economic situation.

 

May I propose other factors that I believe are associate causes of the current world economic situation?

 

First, the USA created an economy that since World War II has been predicated upon the creation and spending of artificial wealth. The most obvious examples are the well-known “bubbles,” including the “dot-com bubble” and the more recent “housing bubble.” Let’s look at just the housing bubble. For decades, housing prices were artificially inflated; it was easy to “take out equity” and spend it. The consumer was the engine of the economy; the fuel was fake money, wealth that did not exist. When the bubble collapsed, money stopped flowing.

 

Second, the world economy depends on the steady flow of money. When the home-equity money stopped flowing, the economy suffered. When the economy suffered, people reined in their spending. A downward spiral occurred. Obama’s programs to date seem to have been attempts to inject money into the economy—to prime the pump. I believe that TARP, “Cash for Clunkers,” and other stimulus programs failed because the injected money was as artificial as the fake equity in homes. (As an aside, one reason I don’t believe the USA government is serious about the “war on drugs” is that so much money flows through the drug trade that if it were stopped, the world economy would collapse even faster.)

 

Third, since time immemorial, the economy of “developed” nations has been based upon the availability of cheap labor and cheap raw materials from “undeveloped” nations. Whether that be the slaves of ancient Greece or 17th—19th century America, copper from Chile, or sweatshops in modern Malaysia and China, that paradigm, too, is collapsing. The undeveloped nations, propagandized by “entertainment” from the developed countries (primarily movies and television from the USA) “want theirs, too.” Frankly, Earth does not have the resources to keep seven billion people in the style to which the people of the USA have become accustomed.

 

Thanks for reading.

 

David

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Love the mystery and the building tension. Good Grief Charlie Brown! I haven't googled so many unfamiliar terms since... Well ever... Can't wait to read more and it is already past my bedtime.

Thanks for posting.

Jim

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