Special Forces - 13. Chapter 13

When I got back with the food Joseph attacked it. Poor guy was so hungry the sub sandwich disappeared in seconds. As did the chips, then the chocolate bar.

“Joseph, I’m going to call my husband and get his help. He was a SEAL and knows a whole network of ex-military guys he can call on. I call them the Borg, like from Star Trek.” At my use of the word ‘husband’ Joseph paused his eating and looked at me askance. “You need medical help for that face, and possibly for your ribs. You might have some internal injuries we can’t see. Sam, my husband, can probably find somebody around here who can help discretely. Would you be okay with that?”

“Your husband?”

“Yes. You don’t have a problem with that do you?”

“Um...no...it’s just that I’ve never met.... Husband, really?”

I figured a picture was worth a thousand words, so I showed him a recent picture of Sam and Jorge in the pool. Droplets of water on Sam’s chest hair shone in the sun. He was holding Jorge on his hip and they were both smiling. Sam’s body could have been a sculpted from bronze, and I purposely chose this photograph to see what Joseph’s reaction would be. I was not disappointed. He almost started drooling. Ogling would be a good word.

“...and that’s your son?”

“Yes, Jorge.”

“But, how can you....”

“He’s adopted.”

“Oh.”

“Joseph, I’d really like to call Sam and ask for his help. How do you feel about that?”

“Um...okay, I guess.”

I called Sam and after his enthusiastic greeting I broached the news about finding another stray (although I didn’t exactly use those words). Sam’s immediate response was to ask what he could do. There were no questions. No hesitation. Just an offer of aid. I explained that Joseph had been beaten by his father and had some medical problems that needed attention. I mentioned Joseph’s reluctance to go to the authorities, and Joseph’s need for a safe place to live in the near future. Sam asked if he could speak to Joseph, so I handed over the phone.

Joseph answered with a series of ‘yes, no’ responses. Then there was some silence as Sam was explaining something to him. Joseph said, “Yes sir,” and handed the phone back to me.

I’ve told Joseph that I’ll get help for him. I’ve promised him that we won’t make him do anything that he doesn’t want to. I need to make a couple of phone calls. Are you okay waiting there with him?

“Yeah, that’s fine. I think Joseph will probably go to sleep for awhile.”

Nicky, I know you want to do everything you can to help this kid, but you realize he can’t leave Monterey County? He’ll have to be turned over to somebody, but I’ll move heaven and earth to make sure he lands in a safe place.

“I know, Sam. Thank you for helping. Joseph’s a good kid. With the right folks he’ll do really well.”

Joseph looked relieved. After talking to Sam, he dropped the attitude.

“Sam’s going to find you a safe home.”

“Yeah, he told me that.”

“You can trust me and Sam.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

I asked him non-threatening questions like what grade he was in, what was his favorite subject. He told me he was in the ninth grade and his favorite subject was art. So I told him that I had studied art and was trying to make a career out of painting and pottery. He became a little more animated when I asked him about what art projects he’d done.

I was dying to ask ‘why’ his father had beaten him. I had a suspicion it was something to do with his father finding out he was gay. But I dared not ask Joseph. At that age, how many kids could give a straightforward answer the question: Are you gay? Joseph would tell me, or the authorities, when he was ready.

Sitting with him in the front seat of my Yukon I found it heartbreaking to look at his battered face. He’d cleaned up a good portion of the blood with baby wipes, but there was heavy bruising on his left cheek and his left eye was nearly swollen shut. His right cheek was red and abraded and still leaking a bit of blood that he blotted now and again with a napkin. I deduced that his father was right handed and had probably landed a good punch on the left side of his face and a strong backhand to the right.

I suggested to Joseph that he get into the back seat and sleep and he nodded his assent. I removed Jorge’s car seat and pulled a blanket from the back. Joseph lay down and within a few minutes I heard his steady sleep breathing.

I read an e-book on my iPhone to pass the time. Sam called after about 45 minutes and told me that a lawyer named Wendy Williams-Hayden would be calling me shortly. Sam told me her father was a retired Air Force Colonel. The Borg had come through.

Wendy W-H called me with a few minutes and explained that she had an office in Monterey, and she had extensive experience in family law. She said that her father, who had enlisted her help, and her mother were willing to become temporary guardians of Joseph.

She told me to take Joseph to the Monterey Community Hospital Emergency Department and ask for a Doctor Colby. Not only did Joseph need immediate medical attention, Dr. Colby would prepare a report that would be used in court when she petitioned to have Colonel and Mrs. Williams appointed guardians.

When I questioned her about the process—I was concerned Joseph would get sent back to his horrible father—she assured me that if Joseph was hurt as badly as had been described there would be no problem getting the petition for guardianship approved. She also told me that Monterey was a small town and Judge Caruthers, who we would appear in front of later today, was a golf buddy of her dad’s.

I woke Joseph up and told him what was happening. He looked concerned, but I kept reassuring that every step we took was to assure his safety and happiness.

I called Sam and told him what we were doing, and Sam spoke to Joseph again which seemed to reassure him measurably. Sam has the magic touch for reassuring distraught kids.

On the way to the hospital I came up with the idea of getting Joseph a phone. That way we (Sam and I) could monitor his whereabouts and situation. If he wasn’t being taken care of properly then we would re-engage the Borg on his behalf.

Joseph, although excited about the prospect of having a phone, opted to stay in the car. He was still in obvious pain and found moving about painful.

I came back with Samsung Galaxy prepaid phone. I picked it because I thought Joseph would find it ‘cool’ even though it cost a little more than the more utilitarian phones available.

I was right. Joseph looked like he’d won the lottery. In the way that only teenagers can he began to click and swipe checking out the installed apps and features. I had him input my and Sam’s numbers and he immediately called me to test the phone. When my phone rang his damaged face lit up with joy.

For the rest of the drive to the hospital he kept saying, “This is so cool!” as we worked through the logistics of buying prepaid minutes. (And the need not to use them up too quickly.)

At the hospital we waited about half an hour for Dr. Colby to call us. Joseph asked if I could stay with him through the examination and Dr. Colby approved my presence.

Joseph was asked to remove his clothes, down to his underwear, and he looked a bit panicked at that request, but Dr. Colby pulled a curtain to give him privacy and gave him a paper gown to provide a bit of cover.

I waited outside the curtain while Dr. Colby examined him. Dr. Colby had a kindly manner and asked Joseph about the assault. Where he was hit. How many times and so forth. It was heartbreaking to hear Joseph describe the assault which had knocked him to the floor where his father had kicked him repeatedly while hurtling vile insults at the poor kid.

Next Joseph was sent for X-rays, then after that Dr. Colby put a few stitches to close the gashes in his face.

The X-rays came back showing Joseph had a crack in his left cheekbone and two cracked ribs. Those would be left to heal on their own, but Dr. Colby explained that his face might ache for a couple of weeks, and his ribs for a bit longer. In addition to the breaks there was severe bruising on Joseph’s torso, legs and arms.

Dr. Colby gave Joseph a bottle of prescription pain killers explaining the proper way to take them. He started Joseph on half dose because we still had to talk to Wendy Williams-Hayden and go to the court hearing later. Colby said he would fax his report to Wendy, and to Judge Caruthers within the hour.

Wendy Williams-Hayden turned out to be a beautiful African-American woman, I’d guess in her 40’s, with very striking almond shaped eyes. She reminded me a little of Halle Berry. She was all business, and after brief introductions she asked me adjourn to the waiting room while she interviewed Joseph. Poor Joseph looked a little like a lamb being led to slaughter, but he cooperated politely.

After a few minutes Wendy called me in to her office and laid out a course of action. She was businesslike, but compassionate with Joseph. She told us that he father would be arriving soon to meet Joseph and it was up to him to accept Colonel and Mrs. William’s offer of guardianship. It wasn’t that Joseph had a lot of choice, but Wendy made it clear to Joseph that he was in charge and that she worked for him. I was grateful that she was respectful toward Joseph and gave him at least the illusion of having power.

Colonel Williams arrived a few minutes later. He was a tall, thin, ramrod erect gentleman—for gentleman is truly the way to describe his presence. Wendy hugged him and introduced him to Joseph and me. He said it was a pleasure to meet us, and you knew he was sincere. I thought he must have been a wonderful officer; I could imagine him inspiring confidence in his soldiers. I watched Joseph’s face closely to see what his reaction would be and was relieved to see him looking pleased. Like me, he seemed to have ‘taken’ to Colonel Williams instantly.

“Dad, will you tell Joseph a little about you and mom? And what Joseph might expect if he comes to live with you?”

Colonel Williams gave Joseph the Cole’s Notes version of his biography. He’d been retired for about 10 years and his passion was golf. He had met Mrs. Williams (May) when he served in a liaison post in Vietnam in the early 70’s. Besides Wendy, he had a son who had followed his father’s footsteps into the Navy. He had three grandchildren and proudly showed Joseph pictures of them on his phone.

He also told Joseph that he would have his own room but would be expected to help with household chores. Nothing too onerous, he promised, but that’s what his kids had had to do, and that’s what Joseph would have to do. Did Joseph accept those terms?

“Yes, Sir.”

Wendy said we had to leave her alone to prepare the petition forms and we were to come back at 2pm. The meeting with Judge Caruther’s was at 3pm and she would give us a briefing of what to expect before we walked over to the judge’s office.

Colonel Williams suggested Joseph and I follow him home so Joseph could have a look at what he might be getting into. He led us to an attractive two storey home further out on the peninsula and across the street from a golf course.

Inside we met Mrs. Williams, who welcomed us warmly. She offered me a cup of coffee in the kitchen while the Colonel took Joseph on a tour of the house.

“Are you okay with this?” I asked Mrs. Williams.

“Certainly. The boy needs help, and we’re willing to give him a home, at least temporarily. The Colonel and I are rather excited about the prospect of having a child in the house again. We miss having our own children around, and our grandchildren are in the Philippines right now, so we don’t get to see them often enough.”

The Colonel and Joseph came back and Mrs. Williams offered us sandwiches which we gratefully accepted.

On the drive back to Wendy’s office I asked Joseph what he thought of the situation, and he replied that the Williams seemed nice and it would be okay to live with them for awhile. He repeated that he did not want to go home.

We all (Wendy, me, Joseph and the Colonel) met with the judge and a court reporter at 3pm. The judge was reading the doctor’s report when we arrived, and Wendy presented him with the petition for guardianship. He really didn’t say much, just looked over the top of his reading glasses and asked us questions.

To me, he asked me to tell him how I found Joseph that morning.

He asked the Colonel to affirm his commitment to become Joseph’s guardian. The Colonel confirmed he and Mrs. Williams were committed.

To Joseph he asked if this was what he wanted. Joseph replied a definite, “Yes, sir!”

Then the judge explained to Joseph that he was compelled by law to report the abuse to the police. He explained that Joseph would have to give a statement, probably tomorrow, but that Wendy would accompany him to the police station and act on his behalf as his lawyer.

Joseph looked shocked at this revelation, and the judge quickly reassured him he would not have to face his father.

“You understand your father will be arrested and charged?”

Joseph swallowed and shrugged his shoulders. I got the impression he didn’t understand what was happening, but I knew that Wendy and the Colonel would explain the process before they went to the police station.

Then the judge approved the petition and that was that. Maybe it was the whole ‘liberal’ vibe of Monterey, but everyone in this process had treated Joseph with compassion. Like me, no one had asked ‘why’ his father had beaten him. And it was, after all, irrelevant. He was badly beaten. End of story. No father should ever beat his child, for any reason.

I called Sam and updated him on what had happened. I felt a huge sense of relief that Joseph was, at least temporarily, safe, as did Sam.

I shook hands with Wendy and the Colonel then held my arms out to Joseph. He wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug—a little gingerly because of his sore ribs. He was terribly thin; I could feel the sharpness of his bones. He didn’t say goodbye, he just nodded when I told him to call me when he was settled at the Williams’.

I promised him that after he was well enough, and with the Colonel’s permission, he could come to San Diego and meet Sam and Jorge.

The Colonel said, “Of course he can!”

Thus, Joseph left with the Colonel to start this new phase of his life.

I climbed back in my Yukon and pointed the bow toward San Francisco.

I managed to get through the San Francisco traffic without too many problems and found a motel for the night up in San Rafael.

Sam, Jorge and I had a long chat on the phone. Jorge was excited because Sam had promised to take him and Gregory out on Budweiser the next day. Darlene and Greg were going as well. I said my goodbyes and Sam promised to call me once Jorge was asleep, and I got the drift of what he was implying by the sexy tone in his voice.

Then Joseph called me from the privacy of his new bedroom. He sounded tired but he was in good spirits. He told me that Mrs. Williams had prepared fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy for dinner, because that was the Colonel’s favorite. But tomorrow she was cooking real Vietnamese food. Joseph wondered if he’d like that. I told him it would probably be delicious. He said that the Colonel had given him a choice of chores (once he was feeling better). He could pick two of three things: cutting the grass, taking out the garbage and helping Mrs. Williams with cleanup after dinner. He was taking the choices very seriously and asked me what I thought. I suggested the grass and the dinner cleanup because that would be helping both of them.

I asked him how he was doing, and in that monosyllabic language of teenagers, he said, “Good.”

Then I asked him how he felt about going to the police station the next day. He said he was scared. “What if they say it was my fault? That I deserved it?”

My heart sank. I gave him what assurances I could. That it could never be his fault.

I wondered, for the umpteenth time that day, how a father could do that to his own son.

I reminded him the phone was for his safety. If at any time he felt he was being forced into a situation where he wasn’t comfortable he was to call me or Sam. I said I would check with him daily, and if I couldn’t contact him I’d have Sam activate the Borg.

Joseph snickered at this. Although he hadn’t actually met Sam, he knew that having Sam in his corner was a good thing.

“In military parlance, Joseph, we’ve got your six.”

Shortly after I ended my call with Joseph, Sam called. Apparently he was sprawled naked on our bed sporting a hard on. “I wish it was in your hot mouth, Nicky.” Imagining him sprawled out like that in all his glory got me going. We talked dirty; made suggestions as to what we’d like to do to each other. After edging for about ten minutes, our balls were pulled up tight, then we both came swearing and panting. We made a ‘date’ for more of the same the next night.

I arrived in Mendocino just after noon the following day. I was able to get checked into my room at the Mendocino Inn, an older establishment right on the main street. The room was decorated sumptuously, but the bathroom was shared and just down the hall, which I didn’t really mind.

I ate lunch at the inn, then headed over to meet my pottery instructor. His house-cum-studio was a little to the north of town set on a large lot surrounded by tall evergreen trees.

Leslie Greenaway was a well known name in the world of pottery, and I’d been looking forward to meeting him. My expectation that he was an ageing hippy was confirmed. He was probably about fifty with grey hair pulled back into a ponytail. Thin, he wore an Indian-style cotton shirt, harem pants and leather sandals. His greying pelt of chest hair was visible in the deep V of his shirt. His face was tanned and a bit leathery, but the wrinkles around his eyes looked more like smile lines than those from age alone. I could detect the odor of marijuana in the air.

What I wasn’t prepared for was the appraising look he gave me. His eyes moved over my body and lingered on my crotch area. I resisted the temptation to check whether my fly was open. His handshake lasted just a bit too long. The old bugger was coming on to me!

I’ve got to admit, his attention was flattering. He was very good looking in a hippy sort of way, and from the swaying of his harem pants I was pretty sure he was going commando. Actually, I found him attractive which made me feel guilty, and led to my blushing like a schoolgirl. He just chuckled at my discomfiture.

“Come,” he said. “I’ll show you my etchings.”