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 Season of Leo - 4. the Sting of Scorpio
the Sting of Scorpio
The time of Scorpio runs from the last week in October through the third week of November. For us, it was a time of progress and pain.
Just about Halloween Dr. Price promoted Jeb and I to level two. We were judged to have made enough progress to be moved on to the next stage of the funny farm. There are five levels and then you are released into the wild.
Level two meant a move to another building and meeting a new group of people. Best of all, I would now be sharing a room with Jeb. Right after lunch we packed up and moved to the next building. Jeb said we were moving from the funny farm to the booby hatch.
Our new room wasn’t luxury accommodations but it was comfortable. It was split into two halves with a desk, dresser and closet on both sides and a bunk bed on the wall. There were two chairs, a sofa and adjoining bathroom and shower. On the back of the door there was a note that stated; there is no maid service. Jeb got a PC because he too was going to have to do his school work online.
In level two, the point system was explained to us. You got and lost points for all sorts of things. For instance: when Jeb got over his initial belligerence and had the insight to see why he was so verbally aggressive, he got a ton of points. That was the big reason he was at level one for such a short time.
I asked why it took me so long. Dr. Price told me that there were two reasons for it. First, she candidly admitted that my case was complicated and it took her a while to evaluate me. Second, I wasn’t connecting with the other kids. When I helped Jeb, that changed.
Dr. Price told me that I wasn’t all that much older than Jeb who had a birthday coming up soon in late November. As backwards as it may seem, in some ways he was more mature and certainly more streetwise than me.
My “home-work” from Dr. Price had me look up the topic of brainwashing. As I moved across the web looking at various web sites, I discovered a site that had a long article about what North Koreans had done to prisoners captured during that war. What I read made my stomach turn to ice. It read just like the Prophet’s playbook.
Everything from the diet to coercive suggestions and the hierarchy of authority, to the punishments for wrong thinking—all of it was designed to make us compliant slaves of the Prophet. It hit me like a sledgehammer and before I knew it, I was in the bathroom barfing. Jeb was there instantly and Dr. Price was summoned. After I got cleaned up, I was in her office talking about it.
The mind is a funny, tricky thing. There are things it remembers and things it doesn’t want to remember. In a sudden flash of insight I could see and understand and, rage came with it. I was so angry, so enraged not just for me but for all the Prophet’s victims. It took a while for Dr. Price to talk me down. It wasn’t over. That’ll take time, if ever. Something inside of me had snapped and a great rush of the infection that was the Prophet’s madness had gotten out.
Poor Jeb was so scared when I got back to the room, he hugged me and we spent the evening talking on our couch. We stayed on the couch for a while after lights out just enjoying the closeness.
I didn’t pry into Jeb’s situation but little by little I got to know more about him. His mother was a single mom and a nurse. She worked long shifts and Jeb was by himself for long periods of time. They had lived in various places but in their last move they ended up in an apartment that had a mix of university students and young professionals. During the summers he was alone during the days or nights for long periods of time. There weren’t many kids his age so he spent his time playing with his computer and video games.
Things changed for Jeb a couple of summers ago when some college kids befriended him. They were apparently a good sort and spent time with him. They moved away and a graduate student moved in. Jeb called him Brent. That’s where he stopped and I wasn’t going to push him. I too had heard that name.
The next day was Sunday and I was in for a pleasant surprise. Early on I told that a church was sponsoring my stay at the treatment center. Level one patients couldn’t have visitors or leave the premises. The visitors ban changed when we got to level two. About forty people from my sponsoring church arrived that afternoon, set up grills and began barbecuing. All of the level two patients were invited and I finally got to meet the congregation.
Pastor Thompson was as different from the Prophet as I could imagine anyone being. He was a big man in his fifties, soft spoken and warm. So was his congregation. On a glorious fall Sunday afternoon, we were treated to barbecue chicken, potato salad and a group of people that proved to me that you could be religious, serious about their commitment and not be absolutely nuts.
We were amused when one of the ladies from the church asked if Jeb and I were brothers. When we thought about it, it wasn’t that much of a stretch. The only big physical differences were I was taller and he had longer hair. In a flash of inspiration, I understood— Jeb and I were of the same physical type. I am no mathematician but two and two always makes four.
That night Jeb was feeling frisky. Shirtless and in shorts after lights out, he got on his computer and got past the firewalls to a video site. We watched a couple of sexy videos and they sure weren’t about Sunday school. Jeb asked if I was tempted to do anything. I laughed and said duh, sitting there in our boxers neither one of us were exactly hiding our feelings. I told him I wasn’t just temped, I was sort of hurting for it but, I didn’t want to do anything too heavy or take advantage of him. Jeb grinned a sly grin and said he had an idea.
Jeb shut down the computer and went into the bathroom for a towel. We turned out all of the lights and got side by side on the couch. Jeb was warm beside me and my heart was thumping. He ran his hands over my chest and his touch was like electricity. I ran my hands down his chest. His heart was racing and he was shaking a little. It really is so much better when somebody else is doing it but twice as messy.
Things were going really well. Between my studies, therapy and the time I spent with Jeb, I was as happy. We fell into a very comfortable rhythm.
Kate, one of the girls in our group started chatting us up and sitting with us for meals. It wasn’t too long before our little group grew and three or four of her buddies joined us. Jeb seemed to enjoy it but I was clueless. She just sighed and told us how cute we were together. I was horrified and asked Jeb about it when we were alone. How do they know? Jeb just laughed and said it was some strange female voodoo. Somehow they just know.
New to the level two status, we were allowed to go to church and spend some time with the Methodist Church that was my official sponsor. I had lunch with two different families after church and found them to be very warm and welcoming. Jeb accompanied me and they were just as warm to him. The question of whether or not we were brothers came up a couple of times. The answer Jeb gave them was we might as well be.
One day Dr. Price had us both in for a talk. It was the one I had been dreading. She asked us point blank if we were having sex. I blushed an alarming shade of red and Jeb just laughed. I was mortified speechless but thankfully; Jeb was a lot quicker thinking. He said that it would be more accurate to say we were having sex at the same time but not together. He then went on to say that two teenage boys living in close quarters had to come to an understanding on such matters. Dr. Price looked relieved, sighed and told us she didn’t want to hear that we were having sex.
She told us that kids that had been sexually exploited like we had been were vulnerable to sexual addiction. Neither one of us had told her that we were gay per see, but with sex come powerful feelings and she didn't want to see either of us get hurt.
She said that Jeb told her that he wanted a big brother which caused Jeb to blush. She said that I had talked about how disconnected I had felt since I left the Children of the Son. Our relationship was good for both of us and we shouldn’t screw that up. Ordinarily sane people go nuts when they hear about teens having sex and, they go completely ballistic when it is gay sex.
She asked us, enough said? We both agreed, with enthusiasm.
Dr. Price asked Jeb if he had told me about his mother. Jeb said that it had never come up.
She asked Jeb if he would tell me what had happened to bring him here.
Jeb seemed to shrink and got uncharacteristically quiet. When he did start talking, he even sounded like a younger kid.
He said that his mother had been using drugs from her job at the hospital for a while. He had found her a few times wiped out with a syringe close by. She had gotten so bad that when she was home, she was out of it most of the time.
The police had been watching Brent, the man who had been molesting Jeb because he was uploading stuff to the internet and wasn’t as smart as he thought. When they finally came to arrest him, Jeb was there and Brent was caught in the act. When the police went to find Jeb’s mother, they found her passed out with needle in her arm. She got arrested for possession of drugs and child neglect.
Dr. Price looked at Jeb and told him that his mother had been indicted and the court had terminated her parental rights.
It broke my heart to see Jeb just slump in the chair like he did. He didn’t cry. He didn’t fuss. He just looked lost.
I told Dr. Price that our cases might be connected. From the times I was photographed, my memory was very blurry but I distinctly remember one of the guys was called Brent.
I took Jeb back to our room and just sat with him on our couch. We both cried. When he finally said I’m alone, I said no you aren’t and held him tighter.
We had grown to be best friends but at that moment, we became family.
- 13
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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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