Nevermore!
by and © Henry Higgins
Chapter 22 - The Arrival of the Intake Interviewer
"So..." I said. "Shall it be something from scratch or ordering in?"
"Pizza! Order in," said both boys, almost in unison.
"Very well," I said. "Pizza it is, and Kenny, you have a special knack for ordering it, so we'll let you do the honors."
Kenny grinned broadly as Rusty cast him a questioning glance. "Hmm, let's see..." said my taller, more serious charge." We need something special for lunch after this morning. How about asparagus spears, spinach, artichoke hearts, anchovies, and that pukey cheese as a topper? We can get it from Blasto's."
Rog just rolled his eyes, having been through this once before.
Rusty wrinkled his face in disgust as he said, "Man, you sure know how to ruin an appetite. Gross!"
I tried to stay calm as I winked at Rog and said, "I'm sure that you'll do us right, Kenny. The phone is all yours."
Grinning smugly, Kenny pranced off into the kitchen to phone in the order with Rusty at his heels whispering, "Kenneeee!"
Rog blew me a kiss as he whispered something about the patience of Job and said, "You're so good with him, Jim! I've seen such growth just in the short time you've been together. I wish we could clone you! There are so many kids out there who need your brand of love and care."
"Maybe we could clone me," I answered. "What if the boys were to learn to do this kind of rescue? What if we could help them learn to form their own business as they grow and open a special safe home just for gay kids, especially battered ones?"
"They'd have to want it on their own," he observed.
"Yeah, they would," I agreed. "So we'll have to watch for it, plant some seeds, and nurture the idea like crazy."
"Yeah," said Rog. "It just might work. What are we, five, maybe ten years away from possibly realizing that dream?"
"I think five would be ambitious," I said. "Ten seems more like it. But that would work only if it's something the guys could become passionate about. We'll just have to wait and see. Right now, I'm more concerned about just being able to hang on to Kenny."
"Yes," Rog agreed. "And, I've thought of some options along that..."
He was interrupted by two naked, whooping teens dancing back into our embrace, each with his respective man.
"Boy! Wait until you guys see what we ordered for you," said Rusty. "You're just gonna love this."
"Go ahead, bro', tell 'em!" beamed Kenny.
"It's got everything!" spouted Rusty. "Aspergus, and those choked hearts, like you said. But then we added anchovies and calafarti so it'd be real fishy. And then it's got that pukey cheese on top."
Rog gave me one of the best Jack Benny deadpan looks I'd ever seen. All I could do was shrug my shoulders and my hold my hands up in the world's most helpless expression.
Kenny said, "He means calamari."
The boys dissolved into wriggling masses of giggles as they nestled in each of our laps. Then Rusty farted loudly, which sent them into even more raucous giggling.
Kenny made a great show of holding his nose as he said, "Oh man, Rusty! That one made it all the way over here. You can really spew some gas. Hey, Jim - you got any gas masks?"
Rusty made a coy show of pretending to be hurt as he said, "Well, I can't help it. I'm just a farty little kid, ya know."
We all chuckled at that one.
"Hey, guys," said Rog, "Why don't we get washed and dressed so we can be ready when the pizza comes. Then we could go somewhere and do something this afternoon."
"Well," said Kenny, "Do ya think we can really take my farty little bro' out in public today? He really is awfully gassy!"
More giggles escaped the two kids as they uncoiled from our laps and began to make their way down the hall towards the bathroom, poking and prodding each other as they went.
"What a pair!" said Rog, as he got up, headed for the kitchen.
"Yeah, is life great or what?" I rejoined.
Roger continued, "I'm going to try to call Peter about his contact rather than wait until I get home. I'd like to get us moving on this counseling thing as soon as possible."
"Sounds good to me," I said.
I headed into the kitchen to get plates, napkins, and silverware ready for when the pizza arrived. If those kids were starving when they ordered it, we might just have to resuscitate them when it arrived. Meanwhile, the giggling and good-natured whooping continued to emanate from the bathroom.
Rog had just dialed his lover. "Hey, Pete! Remember the guy we were talking about that you said could give us a connection into LGBT and CPS? Yeah, that's the one, Wyatt James. Do you think you could get in touch with him today? Yeah, I know it's Sunday, but I'd like to get moving on this as soon as we can. We have a solid chance of making some real headway over here, but I don't want to put the younger boy at any more risk than we have to. If we could all get into the counseling group this week, that would be great.
"What? Oh, that. Well, let's just say that Jim and I really made up for lost time. Yeah... Isn't that great? How are you and Joe doing? Super! Okay, call me over here when you know something. Love you, too, hon. Bye."
"Peter thinks he may be able to get something going for us today," he said.
"Wow! That's great, Rog, I replied, surprised at this sudden impetus to our plans. "But on a Sunday?"
"Yeah, I know, but you can't get things to happen unless you ask, right?" he said.
"You got a point there!" I answered, as I playfully groped him under his robe. His fat cock seemed to melt into my squeeze.
"Keep that up and we won't accomplish our mission," he said.
"Well, shit! And just when I thought I could get off again," I pouted.
"You? Mr. 'Oh, I don't know if I can get it up again'?"
"Well," I said, "Give a guy a good reason, and he can always work something up. And believe me, my friend - you ARE a good reason."
"Thanks, Jim. You know that you're the same for me."
The doorbell sounded and I grabbed some money out of the drawer and headed off to answer the door, making sure that my robe was appropriately cinched.
I opened the door and there stood Pimples from Bazookaburger, with a familiar old junker rumbling in the driveway.
"One Weirdo and one Meat Lover?" he asked, with a knowing smirk.
Ignoring the snide insinuation, I answered, "I guess. I didn't order, Kenny did. So, kid... You work for everybody in town?"
The kid smiled demurely as he said, "Blasto's had a better deal. So I started there, too. You know, between girls and my car..."
"Better you than me," I said, wondering just how many girls this gawky kid could have on the string. Oh well, maybe it was his technique.
"Are you still at Bazookaburger?"
"They cut my hours way back, but I'm still there a little. I had to make up the difference, so I started looking around. I'm glad I did. I'm way ahead with Blasto's."
"Good for you," I replied. "Just be careful out there. And, say hello to Betty for us, okay?"
"Yeah, okay. The trouble is, Mr. Watson, they cut back a lot of hours. We think they may be about to close. Betty was really upset when she heard. They cut her back, too - just not as bad as me. Are Kenny and Rusty still living with you?" The boy craned his neck trying to see inside.
"Both boys are just visiting," I replied. "Kenny will be here a little longer than Rusty. And, they'll go with me tomorrow and Tuesday. I've gotta go out of town, over to Fernville."
"Oh. I'm glad they're with you. That's good. Well, your total comes to $32.00," said Pimples.
"Okay, here's fifty. How's that?" I said.
Pimples grinned, displaying a mouth full of crooked teeth. "Oh that's just fine, Mr. Watson. You tip really well! Thanks a lot."
"No problem," I said, smiling. "I know you need help with all those girls."
"Huh? Oh! Oh, yeah. And, school and my car, too," he said still grinning as he ran back out to his idling junker and roared off way too slowly.
I turned to carry in the mysterious pizza, musing that Pimples would need lots of help with that car. I didn't know about the girls and school, though. Suddenly, I wondered what he carried between his legs and just as suddenly, mentally slapped myself. Now, Watson, just stop that! He's too busy with all those girls. Yeah, right!
"Hey, guys," I called. "Grub!"
I entered the kitchen to find them all poised, seated at the kitchen table, the boys primly decked out in just boxer shorts and Rog still in his robe. Kenny must have poured soda for him and Rusty. I saw that Rog had popped a couple of fresh brews for the two of us.
"Well, I'm glad to see you two boys dressed for the occasion," I quipped.
"Well, Jim," said Rusty, "We kinda like all this nudey stuff, ya know."
"Yeah," said Kenny. "It feels so free."
"Not to mention that it looks pretty damn good to me!" I rejoined. Rog glanced at me, but I didn't feel any of the previous criticism or warning, just observation.
The boys giggled. "Well, yeah," Kenny said, "That, too."
"What he means," said Rusty, "Is that we like THAT the very best - the sex and that you like us that way!"
"And, I'm so glad that you two have found each other in a sexual sense and that you like me to look at you that way," I said, noticing the smile of approval from Roger.
By now, we were all munching our pizza, which, by the way, turned out to be a white veggie (asparagus, artichoke hearts, broccoli, mushrooms, and black olives) and regular meat (sausage, pepperoni, prosciuto, bacon, and mushrooms). So, according to Blasto's, vegetarians were weirdos? Oh well, whatever.
The boys managed a piece or two of the veggie, but plainly preferred the meat pizza. Rog and I, on the other hand, were quite content with the veggie. Could that mean that we were weirdos? If it did, so be it.
As soon as each pizza was vacuumed off its cardboard serving tray, the youth started a loud belching match, with belches interspersed with high-energy giggling and side clutching. Then came more farts, which only increased the high-energy hilarity.
Over the din, I said to Rog, "Remember the scene in 'Blazing Saddles' where all the cowboys squat down in a circle to a supper of beans and then the farts start?"
"Oh, yeah!" he said as his face lit up. "And then, how that led to a huge burping and farting contest the next day at lunch in our cafeteria?"
The ridiculous memory came back to me in all its explosive impudence. Rumor had it that even some of the younger teachers had joined in. Oddly, no one got into trouble for it. They would have had to give over half the school detention, including the teachers who were involved. Rog and I shared a reminiscent chuckle as the high jinks continued between the other two.
When the phone rang, I answered it, holding a finger of my other hand into the free ear so I could hear. "Hello?"
"Hi, Jim. It's Peter. Could I speak with Rog? My God! What's going on over there? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," I giggled. "We're just all wrapped up in some really gross potty humor here. You know, they're at that age." Just then, Rusty cut a long flapper, which sent the two boys reeling into more gales of high-pitched laughter. I handed the phone to Rog, who stepped around the corner into the living room to talk to Peter. Meanwhile, I tried to quiet the troops as well as my rising sense of excitement and anxiety at the prospects of being able to get so quickly into the LGBT group.
I said, "Do you think you guys could clean up the kitchen and then get dressed?"
"Sure, Jim," said Kenny. "No prob! (pfffftttt)." He dissolved into more giggling along with his cohort. I sat back and marveled at their beauty as they bantered so freely with each other, both sporting hefty semis. Just then, Roger came back around the corner and hung up the phone.
"Hey, guys," he said, his voice raised a little to carry over the other two. They immediately settled to listen to him, as did I.
"Peter just told me that he's arranged for a counselor from the LGBT Center to come over here this afternoon at 1:30 for an intake interview so that we can get started with their group this week."
"What's an intake interview?" asked Kenny.
Roger answered, "It's what any health care professional does when taking on a new patient. As a doctor, I need to know about the medical history of my new patients. Not only that, I need to know a little about their present life, what challenges and joys and pains they live with. I can do a much better job of treating their illnesses when I know this information."
Kenny sobered immediately. "Do we have to tell him about what we do with men?"
"Only if you think it's in your best interest," answered Rog. "At the start, you may not want to reveal that. Later on, you may feel a need to do so; but it's up to you. I do think that both of you boys would want him to know about the abuse you've suffered. Whatever you decide to tell him, he's not going to use the information against you, but rather to help you. And, I know that he'll keep it to himself."
"How do you know that?" asked Kenny. "Do you know this guy?"
"Peter knows him and I trust Peter's judgment. Also, I know that working with kids for a number of years the way this guy has, he has had to be honest. Kids won't put up with anybody who's trying to b.s. them; just the same as you guys probably wouldn't have much to do with Jim if you didn't trust him."
"You got that right," said Kenny.
Rog continued, "The best I could advise is to give this guy a chance. You kids are pretty good at reading people. Trust your intuition. Jim and I will be beside you every step of the way."
"Yeah," said Rusty. "And you guys have even better ignition."
"Intuition," corrected Kenny.
"Yeah that," grinned our littlest redhead.
"Well, for now," I said, "I know of two kids who need to finish dressing and two guys who need to start dressing. That way, we should still have time to do something fun afterwards."
"Let's go, bro," said Rusty, as he and Kenny headed into Kenny's room.
Rog and I stood in the living room for a minute and embraced.
"If I let myself," I said to him, "I could get really scared about this."
"I know," he said. "We're dealing with so many unknowns. But you know, Jim, I have a hunch it's all going to work out for us. We're both coming from the right direction on this one."
"I sure hope so," I said.
We walked down the hall toward my room to get ourselves dressed. As we entered my room, the phone rang. I could see from the caller ID that it was Peter.
I picked up the telephone and said, "Hi, Peter."
"Oh, you must have one of those caller ID thingys," he said.
"Yup. Do you want to speak with Roger?"
"Yes, but just so you'll know, your intake counselor this afternoon will be a man named Wyatt James. He has the directions to your house, Jim, as well as your phone number. He'll do your intake interview."
"Great," I said. "What's he like?"
"Oh, he's thirty-something. I've seen him once or twice at the Center - cute guy! Dark hair, full beard, great build - kind of compact - very friendly. I think you'll like him. And, I hear that he's great with kids."
"We sure need that!" I said. "I'm not so sure about the other stuff. At any rate, I'm looking forward to meeting him. I'll hand you over to Rog now. It was good talking with you, Peter."
"Likewise, Jim. Hope to see you soon," said Peter.
"Me, too." I answered, as I handed the phone to Rog.
"Hey, boo," said Rog. "What's up? Oh. Okay. We'll be looking for him at 1:30. And Peter, thank you so much. Yeah. I love you too, babe."
Rog hung up the phone and turned to me. "Peter says this guy is the sharpest one down there, from what he's heard. He's gotten some kids to open up to him that everybody else had given up as lost causes."
"We can sure use that," I said.
"And, Peter says he's drop-dead cute, too!"
"Yeah he said something about that to me, too. Personally, I've got about all the cute I can deal with around here right now. Were we really that silly at their age?"
"Oh, my dear curmudgeon! You know we were - even worse." Roger grinned as he wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled my neck again. I faced him and held him just as tenderly.
"You have really been my savior, Rog. You know that, don't you?"
"Yeah, Jimbo, I do. And I also know that you would have done exactly the same for me had the situation been reversed."
"Even more!" I said, as I sought his lips for just one more kiss before we got down to business.
It didn't take us long to wash, shave, and get into our clothes. At times, we shared the bathroom with our two teenage charges, who were still experimenting with various forms of jet propulsion and otherwise teasing each other. By 1:15, everybody was dressed and in the living room. I went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee while Roger dealt with the boys. I could hear more questions flying, interspersed with the bass of his answers.
At 1:25, I had just returned to the living room when the doorbell rang. I answered the door to one of the most stunning men I'd ever seen. He stood at the top of my front steps, clutching an underarm portfolio, and gazed up at me from behind a full but trim beard. "Compact" didn't even begin to describe him.
"Mr. Watson?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm Jim Watson. You must be Wyatt James?"
"Yes, from the Rainbow Center. May I come in?"
"Oh! Y-yes, please do come in," I stammered.
As Wyatt James entered the room, I took his coat to hang in the closet. Rog and the boys stared unabashedly. I made introductions, offered coffee, and then asked the boys to get soda for themselves and coffee for us three men. I sat beside Rog, as Wyatt James continued to gaze at me. I was transfixed and more than a little perplexed.
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