Rocked To The Core - 13. Confrontation and Escape

Saturday June 24 - Back with Jeremy

Damn, am I tired. I don't think I slept at all last night. Between dealing with my anger about Derek and contemplating my future, who could sleep? I have a little more than three weeks of freedom unless Hamilton can work some magic. I grab some breakfast, since it's almost 10:00. Damn, the garbage is full, better take that down so Mrs. Linden doesn't have a cow. Maybe if I lie in bed some more and think about something else, I can nod off.

Unfortunately for Jeremy, that's exactly what happened. Also unfortunately, he forgot to lock the door after taking out the trash.

Derek

OK, I've slept late enough, it's a little after 10:00. How long do I wait before giving Jeremy a call? Or do I just go over there? I hope he somewhat came to his senses overnight. I hate to think of him still being angry at me. First things first though; food.

"Good morning mom. Oh, good, there's still coffee."

"Good morning Derek. How are you doing?"

"I'm OK. Just frustrated about Jeremy. I hate that he'll probably have to go to jail. He's blaming me, and the more I think about it, the more I think he's right. I should have left well enough alone. Thinking it would be a good idea to come clean; stupid."

"You know it was the right thing to do in the long run. If he didn't try to straighten things out, it would have been worse. You said it could have been five years in jail."

"I know. It just sucks that it ever got to this point. If his father wasn't such a shithead, he wouldn't have started using a false name."

"And you also would never have met him, because he'd still be in Georgia. Things happen for a reason. It'll turn out OK in the end, you'll see."

"I hope. Now, I'm just confused about when I should reach out to him. Do I try right away, or give him more time?"

"He's only known his fate for less than a day. I don't think giving him a little more time will hurt."

"I guess. Maybe I'll try going to get him for lunch."

"That sounds like a good idea."

Good idea, bad timing.

Aloysius

OK. Number 47A. It's got to be around here some place. There it is. Hmmm, detached garage, looks like there's a room above it. I have to believe that would be ‘A.' Damn, nowhere to park right in front. Well, maybe three houses away will be a little safer anyway.

"This is the house, Al. Pull up there, a few houses up."

"Yes sir."

"Keep the engine running, I should be back quick."

"Yes sir."

I walk down the street, acting like I belong. As I walk onto the property, a lady comes out of the house. She must have been watching out the window.

"We don't want whatever it is you're selling. You need to leave now."

"I'm just coming to see my son, Jeremy. Do you know if he's here?"

"Oh, hello Mr. Berger. We've never seen you here before. I believe he's home. I didn't see him leave this morning, anyway. Go on up and check. Have a nice visit."

She heads back to the house. So far, so good. I walk up the stairs and look in the door. It's my lucky day. Not only is he in there, he looks to be asleep. My luck holds out further and the door is unlocked. I take the sealed bag with the chloroform soaked rag in it out of my pocket and slowly creep into the room. Bryson doesn't wake up until I place the rag over his face. He doesn't wake up for long though. I love the look of panic that appears in his eyes when he does wake up. Wakefulness doesn't last very long. I pick him up, make sure he has his wallet in a pocket, put him over my shoulder, and carry him out. I'm partway down the stairs and the lady comes back out again.

"What's going on? You put him down!"

"He's not waking up. I'm taking him to a hospital."

"Oh, no. He had a head injury a little while back. I bet it's still giving him trouble. Should I call an ambulance?"

"No thanks. I have a car waiting just up the road. Thanks anyway,"

She goes in and I continue on to the car.

"Back to the airport, Al."

"Is he OK? Should we go to a hospital?"

"He's fine. Airport please."

We get to the airport and Al starts to drop us off at departures.

"Will you go in and get me a wheelchair? I don't think carrying him through the airport would go over very well."

"Um, sure. You're not like kidnapping him or anything, are you? I don't want to get into trouble."

"No, he's my son. I'm just taking him home to get him into rehab."

Which is not completely untrue. The driver can think I mean drug or alcohol rehab. Al comes back with a wheelchair and helps me get Bryson into it. He's still completely out. I give the driver a 50, and tell him to forget all about me.

I get a few questions and odd looks pushing an unconscious young man through the airport in a wheelchair. The closest call was airport security, but our IDs matched and they didn't question my excuse of him just getting out of the hospital and being on heavy painkillers. I lucked out and was able to transfer to the 1:45 flight. I sneak giving him another nose-full of the chloroform to make sure he doesn't wake up at least until we're airborne.

Derek

Damn. Voice mail again. He's probably still ignoring me. I'm going over there. I have a key now, so even if he doesn't answer the door, I'm going in and making him talk to me. It's almost noon. Close enough to lunchtime.

"I'm heading over to Jeremy's, mom. He's still not answering his phone."

"OK dear. Good luck."

"Thanks."

I turn the corner onto Jeremy's street and I see a limo pulling away from the curb a few houses past his. Odd in this neighborhood. Probably someone being dropped off or picked up for a funeral. I walk up to the apartment, unimpeded by Mrs. Linden. Maybe she's making Randall lunch. I knock. No answer. No surprise there. I try the door, it's unlocked. That is a surprise.

"Jeremy, you here?"

No answer. Bathroom maybe? Nope, bathroom door is open and it's empty. I try phoning him again and I hear it ringing in both ears. It's on his nightstand. Where the fuck would he go? I leave him a text message so he sees it when he gets back.

‘Please call me. Love, D.'

No choice but to leave and wait for him to call, or just come back later. Maybe he took a walk to get lunch out. It sucks that he's still avoiding me. I head back out to get myself some lunch, once again either ignored (not likely) or missed (more likely) by Mrs. Linden.

After lunch, I head home to wait another couple hours. 3:30 arrives and still no call. My call goes to voice mail again.

"He's still ignoring me mom. I'm going back over again."

"OK. See if you can convince him to come over for dinner. Maybe being around other people will help."

"I'll try."

I pull up across the driveway, and start walking toward the apartment. Not lucky enough to avoid Mrs. Linden this time.

"Oh, Derek!"

"Yes, Mrs. Linden?"

"He's not home. His father came to …"

"His father?"

"That's what the man said. He came for a visit and left carrying Jeremy out. He said he wouldn't wake up and would take him to the hospital."

"What time was this?"

"A minute before noon. Maybe two."

"His father wouldn't have come in a limo, would he?"

"Yes. I watched him walk to the car. He put Jeremy in, got in himself, and the car drove away."

"Shit. I just missed him."

"Maybe you can try the hospital."

"He's not in the hospital. He's been abducted."

"The man said Jeremy was his son."

"I don't doubt that for a minute. I'm sure Jeremy didn't go with him willingly. I have to call the police, maybe they're still at the airport."

9-1-1 transferred me to a detective when I said I wanted to report an abduction.

"This is Detective Nelson, you say someone has been abducted? Who, when, and what is your name?"

"I'm Derek Arriens. My boyfriend Jeremy has been taken. It was around noon."

"Boyfriend? How old is he?"

"20."

"Did you witness this abduction? Wait, Arriens, any relation to Captain Arriens?"

"Yes, he's my father. And no, I didn't witness it directly, but I'm pretty sure I saw the car pulling away. His landlady did see it though."

"And why did you wait until now to call?"

"I just now found out from his landlady that he was taken from his apartment by his father."

"That doesn't sound like an abduction to me."

"Shit. There's no time to explain. You have to stop Aloysius and Bryson Burlington from getting on a plane. Jer… Bryson's dad hates him because he's gay."

"Bryson Burlington did you say?"

"Yes. He's out on bail, shouldn't someone carrying him out of his apartment and putting him into a car be a problem?"

"Yes, it would. Can I reach you at this number?"

"Yeah, it's my cell."

"OK, let me check this out and I'll get right back to you."

"Thank you detective."

"Oh, Derek. I'm so sorry. If I knew there was a problem with his father…"

"I know, it's not your fault Mrs. Linden. You had no way of knowing."

"And you said his name is Bryson?"

"Yes. It's a long story. Excuse me, please. I'm going to head to the airport. I'll come back and fill you in later."

"Thank you. I'm also concerned about him being out on bail."

"I know. I'll be back as soon as I can."

On my way to the airport, detective Nelson called back and said they were on the 1:45 flight to Atlanta. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I tell the detective to hold on while I pull over. I pull over onto the shoulder and just sit there, wondering what to do.

"Are you still there Derek?"

"Oh, sorry detective. Brain fart. What can we do?"

"Are you completely sure Bryson was taken without his consent?"

"Yes, his landlady, Mrs. Linden, said Bryson was carried out to the car by his father."

"OK. I'll contact the Georgia state police and get them to check things out on that end. Do you think Bryson is in any danger? You said Mr. Burlington hates him."

"I don't know for sure. I do know he hit Bryson before Bryson came here."

"OK. Thank you. I'll be in touch."

"Thank you."

I need to go home and just crash. This is more than I can handle. Mrs. Linden can wait.

Jeremy

I'm slowly waking up. What a wicked dream. Wait, I was home, why am I in a car? I sit up and realize it's not a dream.

"Dad?"

"Hello Bryson."

"Where are we?"

"On 85, heading home."

"Why? How did you find me?"

"Applying for a license and getting arrested raises flags. Why? So I can get you fixed."

"Fixed? I don't need to be fixed."

"Yes, you do. I can't have a faggot for a son."

"You can't fix that, you fucking moron."

That outburst bought me a smack to the side of my face. No change in memory status, as far as I can tell.

"That's enough of your lip. You'll treat me with respect."

"The fuck I will. You have to earn it. You lost that privilege two years ago."

Dad took something out of his pocket, a rag in a bag. Before I could react, he held it up to my face.

I woke up sometime later. It took me a couple moments to figure out where I was. I realized I was in my old bedroom. Well, I'm not staying here long. I try the door. The knob turns, but the door doesn't budge. It must be locked from the other side. Fine, I'll hang from the window. Shit. Nailed shut. The attached bathroom? Also a nailed window and locked door.

Fuck it. I don't care if I break a fucking window. I turn on my TV, loud. I'm kind of surprised it's still here. I get some tape out of my desk. Masking tape would be better, but hopefully Scotch tape will work too. I tape up both panes of the bottom window. Now comes the risky part. I wrap my hand in a sweatshirt and smack the window's lower pane. Nothing. Fuck, that always works on TV. Too much tape? I try hitting a corner of the glass, a little harder than before. It doesn't break, but it does separate from the wood. I work my way around the frame, breaking glass along the way until I can bend it enough around the tape and pull it out. I listen at the door, not hearing anything I start working on the top pane. OK, both panes out. Hopefully breaking the wood in the middle won't be too loud. Just in case I need to make a quick escape, I raise and remove the screen first.

Crunch.

Damn, that was pretty loud. I grab the loose end of the wood and force the other side loose. I don't wait, I can't hear anybody coming, but I'm not taking any chances. I climb out the window, hang as far down as my fingers will allow, and drop. Good, no broken bones. I take off running toward the main road. I'm so glad I dressed this morning and dad left my sneakers on.

I keep running until I reach the strip mall about half a mile away. I sit on a bench outside a restaurant to catch my breath.

Meanwhile, with Aloysius back at the Burlington's house.

The doorbell rings. Damn, it's the state police.

"Hello officers, can I help you?"

"Aloysius Burlington?"

"Yes."

"Is your son Bryson here?"

"No. He left over two years ago, I don't know where he is."

"That's odd. You flew to Atlanta with him from Fort Lauderdale just a short time ago. We need to come in and check."

"Do you have a warrant?"

"We don't need one sir. You just lied to two Georgia state troopers. We have probable cause to believe he is here. Make it easy on yourself and take us to him. You're already in trouble for abducting him and crossing state lines."

"I believe you still need a warrant."

"Cuff him and put him in the car."

"You can't do that. Do you know who I am?"

"Yes. You're Aloysius Burlington, kidnapper."

Fuck. That old bat in Florida must not have believed me.

The troopers enter the house and check it out. When they get upstairs and see a room padlocked from the outside, they broke the lock off the frame and entered the room, announcing they were state troopers. They immediately saw the window and returned to their car.

"Looks like you didn't do a very good job keeping him prisoner. He went out the window. Aloysius Burlington, you're under arrest for kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment. We'll throw in lying to an officer of the law as well."

They reported the situation to dispatch and drove away with Aloysius wondering how things went so bad, so fast.

Derek

After a short nap, I remember I told Mrs. Linden I’d be back. I explained about him leaving home to get away from his father and changing his name when he got to Florida. Then he decided it was time to go back to his original name. The initial name change was actually a case of fraud, which he was arrested for. I left out anything about us being gay.

“So, he got arrested for what he did to get away from his father?”

“Pretty much. Yeah.”

“And I let that man take him away. I hope I get the chance to say I’m sorry.”

“Me too. Hopefully the Georgia police can find them, arrest his father, and he’ll come back. Granted he’ll still have to deal with the charges, but I’m afraid his father will do something to him if he gets the chance.”

Next Up - "Permanent Incarceration and Temporary? Freedom"