Suffer the Children 10 The next few days ran by in a blur.  The Harlesses never called back so Joan had stayed except for a few odd hours here and there.  Justin was moved to a regular room and the tubes came out one by one.  By the end of the fourth day, the doctor was satisfied with Justin's recovery and ordered his discharge for the following day. "Oh Justin, you're going home tomorrow.  Isn't that great?" The child's eyes lit up and he breathed, "They called?" The hope on his face tore Joan apart.  He never surrendered that hope, no matter how many times they hurt him. "Oh baby, I'm sorry.  I meant St. Catherine's," she said and she hated it when his face scrunched into teary sadness.  She hugged him and he held on for dear life. "I should have known," he said.  "It's OK." The quiet voice spoke of resignation, something an eleven year old shouldn't have to know. But then there were lots of those things. By coincidence or God or happy circumstance, the door flew open and his three friends fell over one another in a mad rush to be first. Lance won, his eyes shining, so happy to see Justin without all the scary tubes.  Howie and Nick crowded in, anxious to let Justin know that they were there, too.  Justin smiled, a sweet grin that Joan was sure would melt hearts everywhere when he grew up.  "I'm coming home tomorrow," he announced. "Cool," they responded in unison.  "So are you OK now?" Justin looked at Joan with that question.  Joan said, "Well, he has to stay in the infirmary for a few days so Sister Clotilde can take care of him but yes, he is pretty much OK." Lance asked, "Can I stay with him?" "Sure, if Justin wants that." She didn't have to ask.  The glow on Justin's face was all the answer she needed.  "I'll be back in a few minutes.  You boys behave." She knew they needed some time alone and she could use the break. They all settled back into a routine after Justin returned to the home.  He was never alone and that was good because he was terrified that Chris would come back.  He jumped at every noise and had horrible nightmares.  Lance started sleeping in Justin's bed so that the younger boy could sleep peacefully.  The monitors mostly ignored it especially since it was summer, but occasionally, punishment was given.  Lance never complained and just went back as if nothing had happened.  And gradually, Justin recovered, safe in Lance's arms. Summer had its own rhythms at St. Catherine's.  Some of the boys actually went home for the whole time and most of the rest got their two weeks with their family whether they wanted it or not.  Nick left kicking and screaming in the middle of July. "Joan, I want to stay here.  I hate going to my aunt's house.  Please don't make me," Nick said, tears streaming down his face. She hated to do it, but his aunt felt it was her duty and insisted on these two weeks.  The really awful part was pulling Nick back together after these visits.  Joan had discovered that his aunt's primary purpose was to let Nick know what a terrible person his mother was and how much of a burden he was to her.  After each time, he would arrive at the door, almost shrunken with shame, head bowed, and it would take weeks for the sweet, sunny smile to find its way back to his face. "Baby, it will be OK," she lied.  "We'll save the good stuff till you get back." She had promised to take them on several trips, the beach, Playland, maybe even a ball game.  As usual, it was just the four of the younger boys. They were waiting outside the door to say goodbye.  The friendship among the four was almost visible.  They were two pairs who were inseparable and Joan was thrilled.  Life was hard here and having a partner made it almost tolerable.  Howie looked even more forlorn than Nick. They were all standing on the front steps waving goodbye until they couldn't see the hand waving through the back window anymore.  A car pulled up and stopped.  Joan had a feeling that something very bad was about to happen and she reached for the boys, but Justin was already running toward the car. "You two, go on inside.  We'll catch up later." They nodded but were transfixed watching Justin. He waited for the car door to open, hopping from one foot to the other with excitement.  When the door didn't open immediately, Joan knew in her heart nothing good was coming.  "Now," she said more harshly than she intended and the boys jumped.  She knew she'd have to deal with them later but she needed to be there for Justin, she was sure of it.  She headed for the car as the other two reluctantly disappeared into the building. His excitement had died a little, replaced by confusion.  Why didn't they get out?  He felt Joan's comforting presence, her hand resting on his shoulder.  The car door opened and his mother stared at him for a long moment before she stepped out and into his hug.  Justin's stepfather came around the car and cleared his throat and Lynn Harless pulled Justin's arms away and moved back.  The mixed messages were coming so quickly even Joan couldn't keep up.  She sensed Justin's struggle— a chance or more rejection. Paul broke the silence.  "Justin, we've come to talk to you." Joan panicked.  They couldn't possibly intend to talk to him out here, in the open, with curious eyes watching from the windows. "Mr.  and Mrs. Harless, could we do this in my office?" A brusque nod was the only response.  Justin moved toward his parents but just as quickly, they formed a solid front and shut him out.  He looked at Joan, tears shimmering, his whole body trembling.  She reached for his hand and squeezed it, a promise that he was not alone. They wasted no time once the door shut behind them.  No one even sat.  Justin remained in the middle, looking from one side to the other, fear palpable in the room.  "Justin, we came to say goodbye." Goodbye?  How can you say goodbye to your child?  Joan's rage had flamed and she was working hard to control herself. Justin simply stood there, completely blank, as if the word goodbye had no meaning.  Paul ignored him and continued, "You are here ...." Joan interrupted, "Mr. & Mrs.  Harless, I'd like to speak to you both alone for a moment.  Justin, ..." "No, stay Justin.  This is old ground, Ms.  Peterson.  We have nothing more to say to one another.  Now, boy..." "Please," she begged, "please don't do this." When Paul's face remained impassive, she pushed Justin toward the door, but the older man moved quickly to block it. "I said no," Paul responded.  Justin was shaking, afraid of the confrontation, terrified of what his father would say. Joan moved closer and in a hissed whisper said, "Please find a kinder way.  Please don't hurt him like this." "Look, lady, we just want to get this over with and move on.  It's hard on us, too." Joan lost it and snapped, "He's eleven years old.  You are adults. You are the ones to sacrifice, not him.  He can't possibly understand..." She saw Justin's terror and opened her arms but as he went to her, Lynn Harless called to him.  He hesitated for a long minute and went to Lynn. Joan was horrified.  That damned woman used him as a prize, winner takes all, and like the cheesy stuffed animals at the fair, he would be discarded as soon as possible.  She felt hot tears burning her eyes and she knew she could no longer speak without sobbing. Lynn turned the child to face his stepfather.  In a matter of fact voice, Paul said, "You're gay, Justin, and we can't see that anything's changed since we sent you here.  We don't want a gay son but we realize it is our responsibility to provide for you until you are eighteen.  We will send a check until then but we never want to see or hear from you again and when you leave here at eighteen, there will never be another penny from us." Even though Joan knew the message, she was stunned at the harshness. Lynn Harless took her place next to her husband.  Joan looked at her and thought she saw regret but it was hidden rapidly.  "Do you understand, Justin?" she asked. He couldn't move.  He couldn't nod.  He couldn't beg for this to be a nightmare.  He couldn't breathe.  And all at once the room got black and that was all he remembered. When he fainted, Joan ran to him and lifted him onto the sofa.  Then she turned to the two demons standing in front of her and said, "I will deny this if you ever repeat it but I will tell you, you two are possibly the most hateful people in the world at this moment.  This child is so good and pure.  He is a real gift and you have thrown it away and made him feel ashamed.  You don't deserve him anyway." The last words were lost on the air as they stormed out of Justin's life for the last time. Justin's eyelashes fluttered and his eyes opened moments later.  Joan was kneeling next to him, looking down with terrible sadness.  Justin remembered and forced his eyes shut again as if he could make time go backward and erase what had happened.  Tears squeezed out from the closed lids and snuck down his cheeks. "Justin," Joan called, wanting to make the pain go away, "look at me." He shook his head.  If he never opened his eyes again, he would still be somebody's child, he would still belong to them, he wouldn't be left all alone.  "Justin, please, let me help." "How can you help?" he asked with his eyes still tightly closed. "I can love you," she replied. "Even though I'm gay?" Justin asked in a voice that shook with shame, shame that declared that he was undeserving of love.  All those times he had wondered what was wrong with him.  And this was the answer all along, he guessed. "Justin, I need you to look at me.  I need to say some things to you." He shook his head violently. His parents had needed to say some things, too, and now they were gone. "OK, you win.  Keep your eyes closed," she sighed.  "Just listen. Gay is not a bad thing.  Gay just is.  But I think it's impossible for someone to know if you're gay or not.  Only you know that and I'm not sure if you are old enough to know." His eyes snapped open, "So how do my parents know I'm gay?" It was Joan's turn to shake her head and shrug.  His face screwed up in concentration as he tried to put the pieces together.  "If they can't know I'm gay, then what do I do that makes them think that?" "I honestly don't have any idea, baby." "I love Lance," he stated and frowned.  "So am I gay?" "How do you know you love Lance?" She didn't want to be like the parent who covers the entire sex education curriculum to answer an innocent question.  She waited while he thought about it. "I like to be with him.  I like to make him smile.  I like it when he sleeps with me and makes me safe." "That's what friends do.  It doesn't mean you're gay.  It means that you love him as your friend." He nodded.  He seemed to accept what she said.  Now the hard part. God, why did this child have to learn all this so young? "Justin, your parents are confused.  What they did is because they're confused.  It is not because you don't deserve parents who love you." She knew she struck deep when he rubbed his eyes with his fists, trying to deny the tears.  When they came anyway, he buried his head in his arms. His small body shook and she made gentle circles on his back, just her touch calming to him.  "You do deserve parents who love you.  You deserve all of the people who love you— Lance, me, Nick, Howie, Mr. Cronin, Sr Clotilde, Sr. Patience, Mr.McLean.  Shall I go on?" He looked up and the pain was so obvious.  But in those blue eyes, she also saw hope, fragile as it was at this moment.  It needed nurturing but it was not dead.  She pulled him onto her lap and let him cuddle, watering that hope with her love.  They sat in silence for a long time.  Then she heard him sigh and take a deep breath, "Will you love me if I am gay?" "Absolutely.  Gay or not, rich or poor, cute or not cute, smart, not so smart, you are still Justin and I will always love you." "Pinky swear?" he asked. "Pinky swear," she replied and they linked pinkies and he knew she was telling the truth. continue menu