Jump to content
  • Join Gay Authors

    Join us for free and follow your favorite authors and stories.

    JamesSavik
  • Author
  • 2,131 Words
  • 2,991 Views
  • 5 Comments
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. 

The Summer Job - 55. The Lost Boys Trust

Getting Carlos, Karl and Cole to stay was a lot easier than anticipated. Karl and Carlos had been tight with Seth and David before their promotion to high school and were just fine with hanging out. Cole was even easier. He was enjoying the company of his little comedian bud Ike.

Phillip had to spread some attention around. Tanner found Phillip’s lap to his liking and suddenly a bunch of his boys descended on him. All in all, it was a peaceful, domestic scene. Javier would have called it groovy but, his sense of humor took some getting used to.

He was nice and settled for about forty-five minutes watching one of the Hobbit movies when his phone started to ping with texts. He had to dig himself out from under Tanner and Scotty to go cope with his phone.

The text was from his Dad: Mr. Oswald is outside. You need to go with him now. I’ll elaborate in my next text.

Phillip sighed, went upstairs, put on some jeans and Mr. Oswald was waiting for him in a White Nissan Altima by his curb.

Mr. Oswald said, “Hi Phillip. I’m supposed to take you to Victory Bail Bonds. I’m not sure why, but your Dad said he would be texting you with additional information.”

Phillip, having never heard of Victory Bail Bonds said, “It’s a mystery to me, but I’m game. Let’s find out what it’s about.”

It was a tedious drive as the Grissom Park was probably already closing or would be shortly. Mr. Oswald commented, “I don’t have to be on the force to tell there’s about to be some busts. All the signs are there. I’ve seen at least a dozen cruisers since I got out tonight.”

Phillip replied, “There does seem to be some tension in the air.”

The ping of an incoming text announced the arrival of the promised information: Phillip- I’m going to have to make this short. You will be meeting with three men. One is named Miles Dannager- a great criminal defense attorney. The second is Wally Garner, another attorney. The last is a man named Jens Van Houten. He’s Richard’s Dad.

There was a second ping as another text arrived: What will happen when you arrive is they will need your signature. Once the document is signed and notarized, you, Garner and Van Houten will be the board of the Lost Boys Trust. You will immediately retain Dannager to represent any of the boys arrested later tonight.

Phillip said, “Holy...”

Oswald asked, “What is it?”

Phillip read back the texts. Just as he finished, a third one arrived.

As an emancipated minor, you can serve as an officer of the trust. The fund will be under the control of you three board members. There will probably be a few more over the next week. The trust will serve to handle the immediate crisis and then go toward any rehabilitation or treatment the boys may require.

Phillip read the third text and Oswald whistled.

When I wanted you to have a summer job, this isn’t what I had in mind. What you are trying to do is laudable, and you have my full support. We’ll talk tomorrow. Please approach it with the same diligence, care and sensitivity you take to the Y every day, and I’m certain this endeavor will be a success. –A Proud Papa across the pond.

After he read the last text, Mr. Oswald said, “Your summer job just got a lot more interesting.”

 

 

Jason Farris of the night crew for Grissom Park was getting ready to have his guys make sure everyone was out of the park and close the gates for the night. Director Walt Lance arrived in the night office.

Farris stood and said, “What’s up boss?”

Lance said, “The Cops want to use our Park tonight. They’ve already got a van sitting by the maintenance barn and more will be arriving by the North Gate just before closing.”

Farris said, “Wonderful. Do we have any idea when they’ll want out?”

Director Lance said, “I’m staying. I brought the latest Brad Thor book and a thermos of coffee. This will give me a good excuse to skip working in the yard tomorrow.”

 

 

 

Mr. Oswald stopped at a bedraggled looking building on the highway frontage road. A bright sign announced: Victory Bail Bond, 24-hour service, Bail Bonds, Notary Public.

In striking contrast to the building's decrepitude, several very nice cars were sitting in the parking lot. A Lexus, Toyota Highlander and a BMW seemed out of place.

Mr. Oswald said, “I believe this is your stop, Phillip. Good luck.”

“Thanks Mr. Oswald.”

The grizzled old detective grinned and said, “Call me Marty, kiddo.”

Phillip debouched Marty Oswald’s Nissan and walked the short way to the door that had a sign reading: Ring bell for after-hours service.

Phillip rang the bell and a young man’s voice answered, “Victory Bail Bonds. What can we do you for?”

“I’m Phillip Wright. I believe I’m expected.”

The door made an odd buzzing sound, a clunk and Phillip pulled it open to a vestibule. When the outer door closed, he found himself in a small entry hall. Behind bulletproof glass, to his left was a young man in his twenties that seemed to have more tattoos than skin. He was wearing a t-shirt for a punk band Social Distortion and put down an acoustic guitar. For some reason, Phillip was impressed that Victory Bail Bonds doorman looked like Johnny Rotten.

Johnny the punk said, “Can I see some ID Phillip? We can’t be too careful here.”

Phillip pulled out his wallet and showed Johnny his driver’s license. Johnny nodded, triggered the inner door to unlock and said, “My Dad and the rest are straight back, first right.”

As Phillip walked past, the young man picked up his guitar and went back to playing. When he got to the door on his right, he was greeted by a large gray haired biker who must work out with Volkswagen's who greeted him and said, “Come on in and join the party Mr. Wright. Now we can get this thing started. I’m Matthew Tannehill, the proprietor of this establishment.”

In the room were three adult men who ranged in age from thirties to fifties. The youngest stood and said, “Hi Phillip. I’m Wally Garner and my Mom thinks the world of you for taking Seth and David under your wing.”

He indicated the man on his left and said, “This is Miles Dannager. He’s probably the best criminal defense attorney in the state. To my right is Jens Van Houten. His son is named Richard and I understand you met earlier this evening.”

Phillip shook hands with everyone and Wally Garner said, “Did your father let you know what we are doing?”

“Dad sent me a series of texts that outlined it in general terms. We’re setting up a Trust to make sure the Lost Boys aren’t simply gobbled up by the system.”

Jens Van Houten said in an odd accent, “My son Richard was one of them. Chuck arranged it so my wife and I could be his foster family. In doing so, he incurred the wrath of Emily Sturgis, the county CPS Director. I believe Mr. Garner has more to tell you about that mess.”

Mr. Tannehill said, “Let’s go ahead and get the document signed. I’ve got two witnesses standing by.”

Mr. Garner signed the document, then Jens Van Houten and finally Phillip. Once they were done, Mr. Tannehill put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Johnny Rotten appeared and Tannehill said, “This is my son Joey and his buddy Andrew will be here... just about now.”

Joey Tannehill and Andrew Miller signed as official witnesses. Mr. Tannehill notarized it, scanned it, made official copies for the three board members and sent a copy to the bank, Garner’s firm and several other places to make the Lost Boys Trust official. Meanwhile, Joey took the copies, stapled them together, put them in separate file folders and handed one each to the new board members.

Mr. Tannehill stood and said, “This completes my part in this drama. I wish you well in this endeavor. God knows it’s needed. If I can help further, please let me know. Now, you may have to room as long as you need it.”

Joey Tannehill said, “If you guys can put that cunt Sturgis’s head on a pole, I’ll be forever grateful. She had me sent to one of those Jesus Camp jails in Georgia for having three joints. I was there for six months, and that shit is totally wacked.”

Wally Garner said, “Would you mind letting me have your number? We are building a case against her.”

Joey said, “Sure. You’ll want Andy’s too. You won’t believe the shit they put him through. He takes meds for manic depression, and they wouldn’t let him have it in Jesus Camp. It put him in a psychiatric hospital.”

Garner shook his head and said, “That’s what we’re really up against Phillip. Whoever decided that for-profit private prisons and treatment centers was a good idea needs their head examined with a lead pipe.”

Miles Dannager said, “What really screwed the pooch was back when George W. Bush allowed what are called “faith-based initiatives”. It sounds wonderful to religious voters, but it's too easily a front for snake oil. The camps we’re talking about are staffed with good, faithful Christians who believe in what they are doing. I’m convinced that the management running the camps are nothing but grifters looking to cash in on all the federal and state money available to these programs.”

Garner said, “Joey and Andy called it Camp Jesus. They are metal buildings out in the country, basically barracks and are staffed by volunteers, not medical or psychiatric professionals. Three meals are provided. They charge twenty-five thousand per patient a month in their Camp Prodigal, the one they call a rehab. Camp Masada is their juvenile jail. It’s even more basic, and they charge twenty-two thousand a month per head. We can’t really call it a scam...”

Jens Van Houten said, “But it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck.”

Garner said, “I’ve crossed swords with them on four different occasions. All four times it was the same thing: they offered a generous settlement to make the suit go away. That tells me they are hiding something quite lucrative. I’ve been in touch with a US Attorney and the FBI. They are looking at these folks closely, and CPS Director Emily Sturgis in particular. They have taps on her emails and phones. We know there are kickbacks. This time, we’re going to catch her in the act.”

Jens Van Houten said, “The Feds will catch her in the act. We offer the courts a better solution for the Lost Boys than CPS, and we will win this little drama.”

Phillip asked, “What can we offer that can exceed the state’s resources?”

“Look at the balance sheet of the trust Phillip”, Jens Van Houten urged.

Phillip did and sat bolt upright. “It says here that the trust has twenty-two and a half million.”

Garner said, “Look closer. It’s only two and a half now, but by the end of summer it will get there. What we can do is offer a generous stipend for foster families, pay for rehab and psychiatric treatment and even help them get started with college.”

Phillip asked, “Where does the money come from?”

Garner said, “An anonymous donor got us started, and a few others are throwing in with us too. Any contributions are tax-deductible. We also have some potential foster families in mind. Marty Oswald was the first to volunteer, and he knows a bunch of cops who are willing to jump on board. That will make it hard for any judge to say no.”

Phillip sighed and said, “I think this will work. What is our first move?”

Garner said, “We just made it. The Trust is up and running with a three-man board. I propose for our next move we put Miles Dannager on retainer. All in favor say aye...”

 

 

A van with the Murphy’s Team Two joined Deputy Harris in the parking lot of Grissom Park’s maintenance barn. Team Two consisted of eight grim faced SWAT team members, one deputized dog handler and a bomb sniffing Labrador retriever named Boom-Boom. Their job would be to enter the Farmer residence from the back.

After checking with Harris who had spotted two cars arrive, park and enter the Farmer residence, Team Two began their approach. They would stay back and watch from cover until show time.

div class="ipsEmbeddedVideo">
 
Copyright © 2021 jamessavik; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 20
  • Love 16
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. 
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now


  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...