Autumn - 7. You're Missing

“I got it.” CJ picked up the phone so the injured cop wouldn’t have to stretch for it.

“Hello? Detective Kennedy’s room.” CJ scrunched up his face as he listened to the caller.

“This is CJ, I’m the Detective’s nephew. Who’s calling?” The boy’s face lit up in surprise hearing the response to his question.

“No shit? Dude! He’s really gonna flip! Hang on.” CJ held the handset out to the injured cop, “Uncle Tom, it’s your son, Bradley, for you.”

“Bradley? Oh, God. Oh, Jesus. I… I…” Tom Kennedy’s gaze rapidly shifted between CJ’s face and the phone the boy held. His fingers curled around the edge of the white sheet covering the lower half of his body. His breathing became ragged. The length of each breath decreased as the frequency increased. Tears began running down his face. He was still connected to machinery above his head, by leads attached to his chest―one of them started to chime. CJ noticed a squiggly line on the monitor begin to move faster. The peaks it drew rose and a new beeping sound came from somewhere around it.

Caleb, the nurse on duty, ran into the room. “His heart rate’s gone through the roof. What happened, CJ?”

“He got a call from his son. They haven’t spoken in years. When I told him who it was, he started getting agitated.” CJ was scared, his fear seeping through his voice. He hoped his uncle wasn’t having a heart attack.

“It’s okay, buddy. He’s having an anxiety attack. Let me calm him down and get his blood pressure under control. He’ll be okay in a few minutes. Go sit on the other bed and talk to his son.”

“Hello,” said CJ once again into the phone.

“Dad? Dad? What’s going on?”

“Hey, Bradley, this is still CJ. Your dad got kinda emotional when he heard it was you calling.”

“Is he okay? He’s not having a heart attack, is he?”

“Nah, the nurse came in and says it’s an anxiety attack, he should be fine in a bit.”

“Shit! I got scared when I heard those strange noises. So, who are you again? Are you the one who trashed my grandparents and that idiot priest?”

“Ouch! Not sure I’d say I trashed them, but I might have made a couple of comments they didn’t like. Sorry about that, the priest pissed me off and I just went a little nutso. He said―”

“Don’t apologize, man. Father Enger’s a douche. Grandpa Frank can be a pain in the ass when he doesn’t get his way. Grandma just goes along with anything the two of them say, or she prays. You still haven’t answered my question, who are you?”

“Oh, sorry. My parents are real close friends with your dad, we came to visit him but the rents went down to the cafeteria to get something to eat. Uncle Tom was real happy about talking to your mom yesterday. He was all excited thinking you were gonna call him, but he wasn’t expecting it today. Weren’t you and your brother somewhere with friends?”

“Yeah, but the weather turned nasty so we all came back. So, my mother told us dad got married this summer. I guess I have a stepfather? Geez, that sounds weird. Do you know this guy? What’s he like?”

“Dude, of course I know him. He’s a great guy. He’s from Australia and has this great accent. The wedding was a double one. My two dads got married at the same time―I was the best man for all four.”

“Wait, your two dads?”

“Ummm, yeah, I’ve got two fathers also.”

“You live with them?”

“Yup. Moved up here from Miami in May. I wasn’t getting along with my mom and her husband.” CJ thought now wasn’t the time to go into a long explanation about why he ended up living in Washington. “Hey, I understand you and I are the same age.”

“Really? You’re fifteen? I turn sixteen in October. What about you?”

“You’re older than me. My birthday’s in December. So you gonna come visit your dad?”

“Well, I gotta talk to him first, you know? But I hope it works out. Mom said we could. Maybe we’ll get to meet if I do?”

“Oh shit yeah, we’ll definitely meet. We need to keep in touch. What are you on?“

“Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You?”

“Facebook, Instagram, and Kik. But I’m warning you right now I’m not one of those guys who has to post everything online and respond to every single post I see.”

“Oh, you don’t suffer from Facebook diarrhea?”

“Ha! Yeah, I know some guys from my old school who had to post anything and everything and had to comment on most of what anyone else put up. They looked like idiots with their names plastered all over the place. Anyway, you need to sign up and Kik me some time. Wanna trade info?”

CJ watched as Caleb fussed over Tom while he talked to the boy in Boston. He heard a request over the public address system, for Doctor Calhoun to call an extension. The nurse left the room, saying he’d be right back. His uncle visibly relaxed after Caleb returned and injected something into the intravenous line.

“Hey man, looks like your dad’s doing okay now. Let me give him the phone, and you can talk to him. Hope we get to meet soon. Kik me.”

A smiling CJ handed the phone to the cop, kissed him on the forehead, and walked out of the room in search of his dads. He found them and JP in the waiting room, holding his bottle of water and the coffee and doughnuts they had gone for. CJ explained what had happened and suggested it was time to go home.

 

“I can’t wait for this weekend to be over, just one more day to go.” Brett finished drying himself off with the large grey towel while watching his partner brush his teeth. After returning home, the two men had spent time with CJ reviewing the plans for visiting Australia in late December.

“I know, right. Who would have thought we’d be complaining about having three days off work in a row.” Cleaning up the kitchen after they’d eaten dinner, CJ said he was spending the rest of the evening with a book. He wanted to finish reading The Adventures of Tom Sawyer before the end of the weekend. He explained it was the first book on a long reading list for his English class.

“And we still have the meeting in Arlington to deal with tomorrow!” Walking over to his sink, he affectionately patted his husband’s furry butt cheeks.

“Watch it, Jarhead. You start playing with my butt next thing you know I’ll have a large inflammation to deal with. I don’t want us going back to the hospital to have it taken care of.” César came up behind Brett, wrapped his arms around the man’s waist, nuzzled his neck, and pressed a growing part of his anatomy against the marine.

“No need to go to the hospital, babe. Let’s get in bed; I’ll make your swelling go down.”

 

“He’s kidding, right?” Chatri looked at César when he asked the question, disbelief etched on his face. He and César stood behind Brett and CJ respectively, keeping an eye on them, as they both did barbell presses on the incline bench.

“I’m afraid he isn’t. We had a somewhat exciting weekend you could say.”

“Helen told me about Detective Kennedy being shot. We went to visit him yesterday morning at the hospital. I’m surprised neither he nor Mr. Smith said anything about CJ being arrested.”

“Watch it, Chatri! Don’t go spreading rumors around. I wasn’t arrested. I was mistakenly detained and taken into custody, but never processed.” CJ had finished his set, lifted his olive Harley-Davison t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and switched places with his father.

“Same difference, you were in handcuffs in the back of a police car. Anything else interesting happen to you this weekend, or was that enough of a thrill?” Chatri spoke as he and Brett also switched places.

“I wish that had been all. The other nasty thing was the big accident Friday on the three-nine-five. A friend of ours, his wife, and their kids were in it. He and the little ones are going to be okay. His wife didn’t make it.” Brett spoke as he took position behind the medical student’s head, slightly bent his knees, and placed his hands underneath the bar.

“Oh crap! That sucks. I’m sorry, guys. Geez, CJ, your summer started off with major drama, and it’s ending the same way. Got anything exciting planned for the fall?”

“Yeah, I plan on going to school, studying, working out, and doing a little traveling. I’m declaring my life a drama-free zone from now on.”

“Yeah right, let me know how that works out for you.” Chatri shut up as he started his set.

 

“I apologize for not being more forthcoming in my e-mail or during our telephone conversation. I didn’t want any records of what I planned to discuss with you.” CJ and his fathers sat in a conference room at the Arlington Police Department Headquarters. Chief Jacobs had offered them coffee or sodas; all three had declined. CJ was certain his dads were just as eager as he was to find out what the man wanted to talk to them about.

“Well, Chief, here we are now. How about you tell us what’s on your mind.” Brett’s impatience was etched on his face.

“Right. After you left on Friday I met with the two officers involved in the incident which brought your son here. I explained to them CJ was most definitely a minor and there wasn’t any indication he was gay at all. I mentioned his parents were though: one a Marine, the other a business executive. Then I shared my opinion the entire incident was manufactured by them just to put another notch on their arrest record.”

Brett leaned forward in his chair, his face and demeanor stern. “I’m not sure I see what relevance our sexual orientation has in this matter, Chief.” The tone of voice was one most adults would use to chastise a child.

“Bear with me, Captain. I also mentioned who swiftly called on behalf of your son. You have some powerful friends, CJ.” The police officer settled his gaze on the boy and spoke directly to him. “I’m not sure how you feel about publicity. I mentioned to the two men your case would, in all likelihood, attract plenty of it if the media got hold of the details. They wouldn’t be seen in a very good light. Lawsuits against them and the department were a possibility, and there was a very good chance they’d lose their jobs. I would not be supporting them in any way.”

“Cut to the chase, Chief.” César’s irritation, growing to match Brett’s, brought a smile to CJ’s face. He failed in his attempt to hide it by looking at his feet.

“They’ve both agreed to resign immediately. They won’t seek assistance from their union, and I won’t initiate disciplinary action. I also won’t provide any sort of recommendation should they seek employment with another department.”

“So they lose their job, the whole thing disappears, and there’s no publicity?” CJ jumped back into the conversation before either one of his dads had a chance to say a word.

“That’s about it.”

“Okay, that works for me. But I want copies of their letter of resignation.”

“Gentlemen? You have a decisive young man as a son. However, he is a minor; I’d like your opinion on this.”

“I think Brett and I will support our son. You have our word we won’t take any action against the individuals or the department. And we won’t seek any publicity on the matter.”

 

The twins were again visiting their father when CJ and his dads stopped in for a visit in the afternoon. The teen was smothered in hugs by the two, then dragged to the corner of the room where they’d been sprawled out on the floor, while their grandfather sat on a chair reading to them. The man gratefully handed the book over to CJ when the boy suggested Angelo take a break. He’d take over the reading duties for a while.

“Doc promised I could get out of here this afternoon. They’re doing some paperwork to release me. We’re going to spend the night at the house in Falls Church. We’ll pack suitcases for me and the kids, and plan on being on the road to New Jersey early in the morning. We should be back in Hammonton around lunchtime.”

“How long do you expect to stay in Jersey?”

“I’m not sure, César. The funeral will be Saturday. I’ll figure out what I’m doing afterward.”

“Whatever you decide, you let us know if we can help in some way. And as soon as the details of the funeral service are set, call us. We’ll be there.”

 

“CJ! My main man and miracle worker. I’ll probably embarrass you again, but, son, I’ll never be able to repay you for the gift you’ve given me.” Potus was sitting up on his bed, animatedly talking to a couple of visiting uniformed officers. Seeing his friends walk in, he broke into a huge smile.

“Hi, Uncle Tommy.” The boy smiled, nodded at the officers as they said their goodbyes, and went to hug the injured cop.

“Guys, I spent over two hours talking to my sons yesterday. I’m so happy, I’m ready to get up and dance.” The Detective’s tone of voice was a pretty good indicator of his high spirits.

“That’s great news, Tommy!” Brett had followed his son to the cop’s bedside, grasping his arm and leaning in for a hug.

“Bet your ass, Jarhead. Listen to this: my father recounted their encounter with CJ to the family when they returned to Boston. Knowing how he works, he must have tried to make me, and your son, look as bad as possible. It backfired on him. My ex-wife wasn’t buying into his indignation at the disrespect shown by a kid obviously corrupted by a bunch of perverted homosexualists.” Tom made his already deep voice even more so, making CJ chuckle.

“Damn! You got your father right. That’s what he sounded like.”

“Yeah, figured he’d still be the same. Anyway, his tirade led to my wife e-mailing me as you know, calling me, and to my sons doing the same once their mother told them what had happened. You guys already know she encouraged them to get in touch with me. Talk about a gigantic change in attitude.”

“Betcha that’s not gonna go well with your father when he finds out.” César spoke as he backed away from the hospital bed after repeating the greeting his son and his husband had previously done.

“Who gives a shit how he feels? I stayed away from the kids ‘cause I thought it was the best thing for them. Their mother coming around means they won’t have to deal with a nasty fight between her and me. My old man I’ll take on with no regrets. I told the boys if their grandfather gave them shit, to let me know. I’ll put the old ass in his place if I have to.”

 

 

CJ read the message and smiled.

bruh waitin 4 u @ walls

“Text messages this early? Which one of our friends is making you smile already?”

“None, Dad. It’s from Harley, a guy at school. Met him the first day when Papa dropped me off. He started talking to me about the motorcycle; we ended up hanging together during the week.”

u on da bike or bus?

“How come you didn’t say anything about meeting this kid? Is he your age?” César had offered to drop his son off at school, he had a meeting nearby. He had turned onto M Street when CJ’s phone had begun to chime.

neither, SUV

“Didn’t think it was a big deal, Dad. We’re in the same homeroom and also have English together. Nice guy.”

?????

“That’s good. Glad you’re already meeting people. Remember you’re always welcome to invite them home to visit. Brett and I would love to meet your friends.”

CJ was still chuckling over Harley’s question marks reply when he realized his friend and his father were both doing the same thing. “Stop being nosey, Dad. Harley’s just a kid I met. Remember, you said it yourself: helicopter parents aren’t cool. Anyway, have a good one, I’ll see you tonight. Oh and I’ll fix dinner, we ate out too much this weekend.”

 

“CJ!” Harley’s loud greeting made more than one of the students streaming into WALLS turn their head. “Bruh! That ain’t an SUV, that’s a freakin’ Escalade. Sweet truck! Bet your dad gets some looks when he pulls up to the Pentagon’s parking lot in that monster. Although his bike’s just as―”

“HARLEY!” CJ was on the verge of laughing his ass off, shouting made his friend stop talking and moving. Even more students turned to look at them. ”Down, boy. You really gotta lay off the Monsters first thing in the morning. The SUV is my other dad’s car. This one’s the accountant, not the Marine.”

“You got two dads? Wow! Really? So freakin’ cool, bruh! How come you didn’t tell me that last week? How was the trip this weekend?” Harley’s mouth was off and running again; without more than a passing reference to CJ having two fathers. “Does the accountant dad also ride? A Harley? You wouldn’t believe all that went on in town! A cop was shot, there was a big pileup on the three-nine―”

“Stop, Harley. You gotta give me a chance to answer.” CJ suspected he was going to be interrupting Harley frequently if he was to get a word in edgewise during their conversations. “Yes, this dad also rides, a twenty-ten Road King. If you like the SUV, wait until you see Papa Brett’s pickup. You’ll have to come over one day after school, maybe on a Friday? I can prolly talk the dads into taking us out for a ride the next day if you wanna spend the night.”

“Dope!”

“Anyway, we didn’t go on the motorcycle trip. The cop that guy shot was my uncle, Tom Kennedy. A friend of the family, his wife, and their kids were in that accident. The wife died. I spent most of the weekend going back and forth to the hospital.”

 

Harley was relatively subdued the rest of the day. At lunchtime, a few girls joined them at their table as soon as they sat down. There was little time for the friends to talk, what with the females monopolizing the conversation, trying to outdo each other in their efforts to gain CJ’s attention. When he checked his phone there were two eerily similar text messages from his fathers: Chief of Police Benton called, the two idiots had resigned, and copies of their resignation were in the mail. Case closed as far as CJ was concerned.

On his way home after school, CJ made a stop at Papyrus, on the corner of N Street and Wisconsin Avenue, in the heart of Georgetown. At the high-end stationery shop, he bought a box of quality cards and then headed home to write thank you notes. In short order, he took care of messages to King, the managing partner at Holland and Knight, Colonel Edwards, Mr. Velasco at Senator Rubio’s office, and to the senator himself. Afterward, he called each of the individuals to express his gratitude and make them aware of the resignation of the two officers. Hand-written thank you notes were not the norm, especially for fifteen-year-old boys; his grandmother, Abuela Abelló, had insisted he do so from an early age. By now it was second nature.

When both his dads arrived home, he was well on the way to finishing his homework and had already prepped the evening’s meal.

Life was back to normal.

 

“Hey babe, you’re not going to believe what happened to me today. I didn’t mention it during dinner ‘cause we’ve had enough BS this past weekend already. Didn’t want CJ to get any more riled up.” César was in bed already, waiting for Brett to join him. The TV was on but he had muted the volume.

“Should I be scared?”

“Nah. Maybe? So I stopped at the bank before coming home to get our passports out of the safety deposit box―CJ’s is still valid. Remember Jamal? The assistant branch manager Chip introduced us to? He’s acting manager now. When he saw me, he asked for a few minutes of my time so I went to his office with him.”

“Prolly trying to make sure we don’t pull our business from the bank. What with Chip gone, you know?”

“That’s what I thought. But get this: he propositioned me!”

“He what? He propositioned you? I’ll kill the motherfucker!”

“Relax, Captain, you haven't even heard the best part! He told me Chip always bragged about how close he was to us, and implied he fucked around with us on a regular basis. Jamal wanted to make sure we knew he was willing to do anything to keep two of the bank’s best customers happy—anything at all!”

“Motherfuckers! Both Chip and Jamal are now on my shoot-on-sight list! What the fuck is wrong with these people? What’d you tell him?”

“I praised him for his interest in maintaining good client relations. It was so damn hard not to laugh when I said it…”

“I bet. Fucker should be glad it was you he approached instead of me.”

“Next time you get to talk to him. Anyway, I thanked him for his offer while licking my lips and staring at his crotch―I swear the man had a snake running down the leg of his pants.”

“Asshole!”

“Okay. After I was done having fun with him, I looked him in the eyes, and that although Chip may have slept with half the town, but never with us. Told him Chip was no longer in our circle of friends. I followed up by letting him know if he ever so much as whispered such a proposition to either one of us, we would make sure he was transferred to a branch in the middle of Bumfuck, West Virginia.”

“Good… was it honestly as long as a snake?”

“Asshole!”

 

When he arrived at Walls on Wednesday morning, CJ encountered several tables with students around them near the entrance to the school. Harley was there, waiting for him, and ready to explain. Student organizations and sports teams would set up during lunch and after classes, handing out information about their activities and answering questions. Involvement in extra-curricular activities was strongly encouraged by the school’s administration.

After approaching some of the athletes in the morning and again during his lunch break, CJ decided he might be interested in trying out for the baseball team. The games were all in the spring, and tryouts wouldn’t take place until next year. He decided to concentrate on his martial arts training during the fall and winter. Following his encounter with the biker at the beginning of summer, and his fathers’ frequent admonitions concerning overconfidence, he wanted to maintain and improve his skills.

He also spent some time talking to his Algebra teacher, Mr. Thornton, who was trying to start a rugby club at the school. CJ promised to come to an organizational meeting in two weeks. He knew it was wrong, but the thought of Jae Thornton wearing tiny rugby shorts had something to do with his interest.

In the afternoon, he stopped at the Student Government Association table, spoke to the officers there, and placed his name on the list of those interested in running for one of the class representative spots reserved for new students. Elections for those would be held in mid-September.

His last stop of the day was at the Gay-Straight Alliance display, where a dark-haired guy with a broad, pale face, sat next to an attractive girl with long brown hair. They introduced themselves as Danek Nowak and Autumn Dingell, club co-chairs. The organization held several social events throughout the year and worked with the school administration on programs geared towards increasing understanding and acceptance of sexual minorities.

Their first meeting of the school year was set for the following week after classes ended. CJ signed up and promised to be there. Harley, who had stuck by his side the entire afternoon, also signed up.

 

The Feast of Trumpets―Rosh Hashanah―began on Wednesday at sunset. Thursday, some students and faculty members took time off to celebrate the Jewish New Year. CJ’s History instructor was one of those absent on Thursday. The second-period class had a substitute teacher who’d didn’t have the opportunity to introduce herself before an announcement was heard over the loudspeaker in the classroom’s ceiling: “CJ Abelló, please report to the Principal’s office. CJ Abelló to the principal’s office, please.”

“Uuuhhh, someone’s in trouble.” The comment by one of the students made all the others in the room laugh. CJ stood up smiling, grabbed his book bag, and walked towards the front of the room.

“Mr. Abelló, I presume?” asked the substitute, shaking her head as if in resignation to the antics of a rowdy group

“Yes, ma’am.” CJ wondered what Mrs. Edwards wanted with him.

 

“I understand you had an interesting weekend, CJ.” Martha Edwards had motioned for the boy to take a seat by her desk as soon as she saw him standing in her office’s doorway.

“That’s an understatement, ma’am. Not a very pleasant weekend at all. I’ve had enough excitement to last me for a long while.”

“Ray told me about your detention by the Arlington Police Department officers. And we heard about Detective Kennedy’s shooting during the evening news on the TV. I’m pleased both events seem to have been resolved in a satisfactory manner.”

“Yes, ma’am. Uncle Tom is recovering well and should be home sometime today. The two cops who hassled me have resigned from the police force. But we also had another bad thing happen this weekend. The wife of a friend of my parents died in the big accident on the Interstate on Friday. We’re going to her funeral on Saturday.”

“I’m so sorry, CJ. That’s a horrible thing to happen on top of everything else your family had to deal with.”

“Thank you, ma’am. At least her kids survived and her husband just had some bruises and a broken leg.”

“I called you in to make sure you were doing well and to maybe discuss the StandUp Foundation presentation you previously mentioned to me.”

“Oh good. Are you going to ask Ben to do it for us?”

“I already have, and he’s already agreed. We’ve worked out the details, but you get to play a part in this. I wanted to make you aware of what we have planned. We agreed to a school-wide event on…”

 

“Hey, babe, just thought of something. Do you wanna invite Ben to stay with us when he comes into town?” Brett was in bed reading while César was next to him, on his laptop paying bills.

“I don’t think so. You heard what CJ said, he’s bringing someone with him to participate in the program at Walls.”

“Yeah, forgot about that. Guess it would be rude to invite Ben and leave the other guy at a hotel. Maybe we should do some remodeling in the basement. We could give CJ his own space down there? That way we’d have two guest rooms again.”

“Something to think about. Hell, we could turn the two bedrooms on the second floor into three and have even more room. I think I’ll e-mail my brother and see if he has any ideas. How ‘bout you put the book away and scoot over here, Jarhead. I’m done paying bills and I think I deserve a reward from you.”

“Did you have anything in mind, you horndog?”

“I’m certain something will come up.”

 

At 5:30 a.m. on Saturday, a group of ten men stood in front of the Georgetown townhouse, all of them at some point stretched their arms above their heads and yawned, while waiting for their bus to arrive. César and Brett had chartered a luxury motor coach to transport them to Hammonton, New Jersey. They thought of renting a limo for the two of them and CJ but decided to go with something large enough for the gang to travel together. The cost wasn’t all that much more. They were all dressed comfortably in t-shirts, shorts, or sweatpants, and wore sneakers or flip-flops. Each carried a garment bag in one hand, and a pair of dress shoes in the other.

Instead of the usual rows of bench seats, the bus had comfortable leather upholstered chairs and couches, a small kitchen area, and a good-sized restroom. The early departure would allow them to arrive with plenty of time to spare for the 10:30 church service.

“Does anyone want anything to eat now, or should I put it all away for later?” Danno had insisted on providing food for the group, there would be no need to stop at a restaurant during the three-plus hour drive.

“What did you bring, Uncle Danno?” While the majority of the adults were already snuggling into their selected spot, ready to fall asleep again, CJ was—as usual—ready to eat something.

“Not entirely sure what the guys at the restaurant packed, buddy. Look through it and help yourself, I know for sure there’s bagels and muffins. The cooler I know has juices, milk, and water.”

“Kay, I’ll grab a muffin and some milk. Leave it there. I’ll make sure it’s stored once I’m done.”

 

Just outside town, the driver stopped for a few minutes so the men could use the restroom and change clothes without the constant swaying of the bus. Traffic headed to the shore this late-summer weekend had been relatively light and they had made good time.

At the small church, they all sat together near the back. It had been full of relatives and family friends, and the procession to the cemetery had been long. As the casket was lowered into the ground, Adriano stood up from his wheelchair with the help of his older brother. The silence of the hallowed grounds was broken by the sobs of many of those in attendance, and by Adriano’s softly spoken words.

“Our time together was much too short, I didn’t say I love you nearly enough. But I did, and I always will. I promise to look after our children, make sure they never forget you, and I’ll rejoice in them for the both of us. Life will go on, time will pass, but I’ll never be whole again. I’ll always know you’re missing.”