Suffer The Children 4

Suffer the Children 4

More time passed. Joan confirmed that it had been Chris but the
terrified look on Justin's face when she said she would tell Sister
Mary, stopped her from taking any action. She spent sleepless nights
pondering alternatives and, in the end, came back to the same place.
There could be no protection here. She just hoped that she could
always rescue Justin before it was too late.

She had called the Harlesses and asked if they would come. They
reluctantly agreed and she waited for them, unsure of what to say.
She hadn't told Justin they were coming because she couldn't bear his
pain if they rejected him again.

When they were shown in, she stood and assessed them. Lynn Harless
was with her husband this time. She was a pretty woman, same blue
eyes, and now Joan knew where the curly locks came from. Joan had
hoped that she would want to see Justin but from the angry set of her
mouth, it was obvious that she was not pleased to be here either. Her
husband was clearly not happy.

"Why are we here? What has the little shit done now? Are you
expelling him?"

Joan was taken aback. He knew so little of his stepson. And cared
even less. "He hasn't done anything. And expelling is not an option
here."

Before she could continue, Lynn interrupted, "So why are we here
then?"

Joan sighed, "Justin doesn't belong here. He's not a difficult child.
He flourishes with attention and he truly tries hard to please. He
misses you." Joan had to force this out. It was true but she felt a
heaviness in her chest at the thought of her little baby going back
to people who so clearly didn't want him. But at least it was safer,
she hoped.

"No," his mother stated flatly. No explanation, no excuses, no
apology, no guilt. She stood as if to leave.

"Wait, please," Joan begged. "Please help me understand why Justin
was sent here. He is so clearly out of place."

They looked at one another, then Paul Harless said, "He's gay."

Joan was shocked, " He's ten. How would you know that?"

They stood then, "We know and we will never accept him back in our
home. Ever. Goodbye, Mrs. Peterson."

Joan was frozen and watched as they left her office. As they reached
the outer door, it flew open and Justin bounced in, a happy grin on
his face, waving a paper, "Joan, I got...." The smile disappeared
and the words died as he stared at his parents. He looked from them
to Joan and then ran to his mother and threw his arms around her
waist, "You came." The paper he had been holding fluttered to the
floor.

Lynn reached around and pulled the little arms from her middle and
stepped back, leaving him forlorn. His face crumpled as he realized
the truth, "You didn't come to see me, to take me home." It was a
statement.

"No, boy, we didn't. And now we're leaving." Paul Harless took his
wife's hand and without even a look back, they disappeared out of
Justin's life once again.

Justin stood still for a second and then bent down to retrieve his
paper. " I got an A+," he said to the air.

"Justin," Joan said and opened her arms. He ran to her and flung
himself so hard he nearly knocked them both over. She hugged him
tightly and felt his small body shake with sobs. Why were they always
in this place?

When he had calmed down a little, they sat down and with hitched
breaths, he asked, "Why were they here?"

"I asked them to come. I wanted to tell them about your progress,"
she lied. Her heart broke when she saw his small smile.

Then he frowned, "So why don't they want me still?"

The million dollar question and she had no answer. Even if they were
correct about him being gay, what difference would it make? But how
could she explain their rejection to this little angel? She shook her
head, "I don't know, Baby, I don't know."

More tears. More pain. More desolation in his eyes. And no way out.

Joan did everything she could to make it up to him. There were times
when she saw the joy of childhood in his body language and on his
face, but those times were rare. Most of the time he was sad and
withdrawn, alone. He still didn't have any friends and Nick had
effectively cut himself off when it became common knowledge that
Justin was Joan's pet.

She had warned Justin but with wisdom beyond his years, he had
answered, "I'd rather be your pet. You care about me. They only want
me to be what they want Justin to be. Maybe someday I'll make a
friend like me."

It seemed prophetic then when Lance had arrived a month later. It
felt like deja vu– watching the family in the entry hall. Another
little boy, afraid and hurt. Another set of parents, anxious to
unload their responsibility and be on their way.

Joan set her shoulders and greeted them. Another brief handshake that
said Let's get this over with. She knelt and met teary green eyes and
the sweetest smile outside of Justin. Another little suitcase but no
ball this time—just a ragged teddy bear that he clutched tightly.

They waltzed through the same steps. The parents answered in
monosyllables, not wishing to prolong the interview beyond the bare
minimum. From the slim folder, Joan gathered that twelve year old
Lance was here because his parents also believed he was gay. Their
religion forbade it and they had talked to him and according to them,
he was unwilling to change.

Joan was amazed that they could sit before her with straight faces,
knowing the lies the folder contained . She could feel her anger
rising. "How do you know Lance is gay? He hasn't even begun puberty,
judging from his features." He still had babyish looks, no facial
hair, and an immature body. Not to mention that he still needed a
teddy bear.

"Our pastor assured us he was. When we asked Lance he said yes. He's
very feminine," Mrs. Bass stated.

"I don't think we can determine a child's sexual orientation at this
point. But even if you were correct, are you really willing to give
up your son because he's homosexual?"

Diane Bass's lips pursed and she replied haughtily, "Of course, if he
were willing to change his sexual orientation, we would naturally
welcome him home."

Joan bit back her response. She wanted to scream at them, drown out
their self-righteous words, make them really see the pain they would
cause this innocent child. Instead she took a deep breath and
began, "Sexual orientation is not something one can change by an act
of will. Even so, I find it hard to believe that a child who is
threatened with losing his family would ever refuse to try. I think I
am missing some important information. Does Lance actually
understand what is happening here?"

They looked at one another. Then Jim Bass answered angrily, "We told
him he needed to come here to get straightened out."

"For how long?" Joan forced out through gritted teeth.

"Uh, we didn't talk about that," he answered quietly.

"Vacations, holidays? Will you be visiting?" It was a formality. She
knew the answer. Another child into the parental waste bin. Another
fucking mistake. She stood so abruptly, her chair fell over.

The Basses stood also, looking abashed but by no means deterred from
their path. They followed her to the door. In the outer room, Lance
sat on the sofa rocking himself and his teddy bear. His blond hair
hung down over his eyes and Joan absently made a note to get his hair
cut. He looked up hopefully but he dissolved into tears when he saw
his parents' faces.

"Lance, be a good boy, no trouble," Jim said and Lance nodded
vigorously. He bit his lower lip trying to hold back the tears. He
was unsuccessful and they slid down his cheeks. His mother relented
for a brief moment and gave him the barest of hugs and a peck on the
cheek but when he reached to return the hug, she was already moving
away. His arms dropped to his lap as he watched them go and he buried
his face in his bear's well-worn fur. When he looked up, the tears
were gone.

Mary's and Joan's eyes met and they shook their heads. No matter how
many times they witnessed this, it was always fresh pain. Joan rubbed
her forehead. "Lance," she called softly, "come into my office."

He slid off the couch obediently and sat in the chair nearest her
desk. She turned the other chair to face him and took his
hands, "It's OK to cry in here. That's what this office is for — a
safe place for all of you." He nodded but didn't cry.

Joan had seen this before also— big boys don't cry. No, of course
not. They're angry and hurtful and cruel, acting out all the unshed
tears. She stood and pulled him up, put her arms around him and felt
the little boy win over the big boy. Sobs shook him and she simply
held him until he was all cried out for the moment.

She moved them to the sofa and gently wiped the remaining tears
away. "Better?"

"Yes," he whispered.

They talked for a long time and Joan found out everything she needed
to know. Lance didn't know his parents and pastor thought he was gay.
He had no idea whether he liked boys or girls because at the moment
he wasn't interested in either as love objects. He knew his parents
were angry at him but he only had a vague idea why. They had asked
him if he was what the pastor said he was and he had said he guessed
so since the pastor was always right. No one had asked him to change
anything least of all his sexual orientation. And last but not least
his parents had given him no indication that they were not going to
visit nor that he wasn't going home for holidays and vacation.

Joan smiled and pushed his hair off his face, "Haircut for you
tomorrow. Tonight we'll get you settled." He leaned into her, liking
the feel of her hand in his hair. She ran her fingers through it
absentmindedly, mentally rearranging rooms in her head.

She heard the outer door bang open and knew Justin was here. She had
told Mary to tell him to come in to meet Lance. When he came into the
room, he was already talking, "Joan, Mary says there's a new boy
and..." He stopped abruptly, his face freezing into an angry frown.

"What is it, Jus?" Joan asked, sitting up straight and holding out
her free arm. Justin remained unmoving, but his hands curled into
small fists. Suddenly he launched himself at Lance and started
hitting him. It took Joan a few seconds to disengage herself and by
that time, Lance already had a split lip. As he jumped up to defend
himself, Joan stepped between the two boys.

"Sit, both of you," she ordered, pointing to the two chairs in front
of her desk. They hesitated but a sharp "Sit" convinced them that she
meant business.

"Justin, what was that all about?" she asked sternly. He suddenly
wilted, hurt by the tone of her voice. His lips trembled and his blue
eyes filled .

"You belong to me. I...I...was here first," he stuttered. Joan looked
shocked and then she realized what it must have looked like to him.
He was so fragile, so afraid of losing another person in his life.

"Justin, there is plenty of me for both of you and the other boys,
too."

He looked unconvinced, "I want you to be my mommy, just me." She went
over and knelt down, pulling him into her arms.

"I will always be here for you, Justin," she said softly, "but you
have to share." He pouted, his cutest look, guaranteed to get extra
food in the cafeteria, buttons sewn by Sister Patience, and an
occasional pass from Mrs. Scott. "That pout will get you nowhere,
little boy," she laughed gently. Justin didn't give any ground but
his features relaxed and Joan knew he would be OK.

Lance had watched their easy familiarity and felt jealous. He had
liked Joan cuddling him and now all of her attention was on this brat
and he, Lance, was the one with the bloody lip. As if reading his
mind, she turned to her newest charge and looked at his lip. She
disappeared for a moment and came back with a wet towel. She cleaned
him up. "Sorry about that. Welcome to St. Catherine's. Justin,
apologize please."

Justin crossed his arms and this time the pout was real. Joan frowned
at him and crossed her own arms, tapping her foot impatiently. Justin
sighed. He never won. "Sorry," he muttered.
Lance merely nodded.

"Justin, this is Lance. Lance, Justin," she said completing the
introductions. She had planned on them being roommates and having
Justin show him around. She knew that they were perfect for one
another. However, their rocky start made her think twice. "Jus, can
you think of anyone who would be willing to tell Lance the rules and
help him get settled.?"

Justin pretended to think and then simply said, "No." He wanted Lance
to leave so that he didn't have to share Joan's affections. Joan
almost laughed out loud at Justin's blatant attempt to get rid of his
rival.

"Lance, would you please wait outside for a few minutes. I need to
talk to Justin alone." Justin looked nervous and licked his lips.
When Lance was gone and the door had closed, Joan took Justin on her
lap. "Baby, don't you believe that I'll be here for you?"

Justin rested his head on her shoulder and in a tiny voice said, "I
had to share at home, me and Jonathan, and I always got left out.
Even JC got some attention. Then when they got tired of me, I got
sent here. I don't want to get left out again."

Joan kissed his curls, "I will never leave you out. You are my baby
boy. Always. But Lance could be the friend you are looking for,
Justin. I know Nick hasn't worked out. I was going to put Howie with
Nick and put you and Lance together. What do you think?"

Justin thought about it. Maybe Lance wouldn't be so bad. Nick was mad
at him all the time these days and Justin didn't even know why. "Why
not. But is it OK if I still come alone every day to see you?"

"Sure. Now let's go see about moving yours and Howie's things."

The move went smoothly. Nick was grateful that the albatross had been
removed from his neck and he was really good friends with Howie so he
was excited that he'd be his new roommate. Howie and Justin made a
smooth exchange and then Justin and Lance both unpacked their few
things, Justin emphasizing to Lance how important cleanliness and
neatness were.

Joan watched their dance as they sized one another up. Lance was
terrified by his new environment and despite his cut lip was willing
to make concessions to Justin simply to have an ally in an alien
world. This was a new position for Justin. In all of the three
months he had been here, he had never been the top boy. It felt great
and scary at the same time.

By dinner, Justin was feeling good about himself for the first time
in a long while. Lance had shyly asked him lots of questions and
seemed relieved that Justin was willing to help him get acclimated.
Justin felt important and was excited at the possibility of a
friendship.

Only one thing was bothering the curly haired blonde as they walked
companionably to the dining hall. He knew Lance would find out soon
how much Justin was the outsider, the one never allowed into their
games, their jokes, their conversations. And then, the voice
whispered to him, then he will ditch you, too. He wants friends, not
just a loser like you. By the time they reached their destination,
Justin's shoulders had drooped and his little face was furrowed with
worry.

Joan greeted them and took Lance's hand. Justin felt more than a
twinge of jealousy but controlled himself and slipped into the
closest pair of empty seats that he could find. Joan introduced Lance
and there was a mild reaction especially from the older boys who were
always looking for a fresh source of entertainment. Lance blushed and
stared at the floor until Joan found Justin and led the new boy to
the empty spot where he gratefully sank down.

The other boys at the table refrained from any comments until Joan
had left, promising to come by later. Justin knew what was coming and
he tensed. "So, fag, you finally got a boyfriend." Justin refused to
look up. "He must be a real loser to hang out with you. Did you tell
him you don't even have one friend here?"

They turned to Lance, "Did he?" Justin didn't see Lance simply shake
his head. "Ask him if it's true!" Lance was frozen. He didn't want to
be an outcast on his first night but Justin had been nice to him and
he could tell the other boy was upset.

All of Justin's good feelings about himself had been swept away in a
few hurtful words. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of
seeing him cry and run away but he knew they wouldn't stop until they
had gotten the reaction they wanted. "Shut up," he retaliated,
sounding unconvincing even to himself.

"Make me!"

Justin stood and clenched his fists for the second time that
day, "OK, let's go!"

The other boy looked surprised but since he had a good six inches and
twenty-five pounds on Justin, he showed no fear, "No way, fag, and
have your mommy come after me? Forget it. Lance, want to watch tv
with us after dinner?"

Justin's eyes pleaded with Lance. "No thanks, I'm tired," Lance
responded quietly.

The other boy's eyes narrowed, "Be careful, Lance. Being Justin's
friend could be really unpleasant." Lance swallowed hard and
nodded.There had been a tense silence between them since dinner.
Justin sat at his desk and attempted to concentrate on his homework
while Lance got ready for bed and lay staring at the ceiling. Joan
stopped by and kissed both boys good night. She eyed them both
curiously and worried that their silence was not good. Neither would
admit to anything being wrong but she had been around sad children
too long to miss the signs. She sighed and let it go, knowing that
they would come to her the next day.

Justin gave up. He got ready for bed and turned out the light. Then
in a voice so soft Lance had to strain to hear it, he said, "Thanks."

Lance wasn't sure how to respond so he just said "Good night." He
couldn't see the tears slipping down Justin's cheeks.

He tried to sleep but the strange bed and the scariness of this place
kept him alert. He didn't want to talk to Justin anymore tonight so
he just lay there letting memories roll through his mind. He didn't
cry. He had shed a lot of tears trying to talk his parents out of
sending him here but they had all been wasted. He wasn't even sure
why they had sent him away. He remembered whispered conversations
between his parents and the pastor but he didn't know what they were
about.

He did recall one day when his dad had taken him out fishing. They
had sat in silence for awhile, his father's stare making Lance
squirm. "So, Lance, any cute girls in school?"

Lance jumped at the sound of his father's voice. "I guess," he
replied with a shrug. His father frowned and Lance bit his lip. What
was he supposed to say? He amended his answer, "No, no pretty
girls." His father's look grew stormier. Lance gulped and remained
silent, choosing not to get in any deeper. They had returned to shore
then and later he heard his father talking to his mom, his tone
angry. Lance never did find out what the right answer was.

He did know his father was angry with him almost all of the time and
he had no idea why. His mother alternated between angry and sad. No
one spoke about their feelings so they remained a mystery. Justin's
openness with his emotions shocked Lance and made him uncomfortable.
Before today, he had never even cried outside of his family.

His mind wandered to the question of what to do about Justin. After
their initial confrontation, they had gotten along well. They had a
lot in common, good students, music, polite, eager to please. So far
the only differences were basketball and how they dealt with their
feelings. Lance was willing to play basketball but he wasn't sure he
could wear his heart on his sleeve.

On the other hand, the animosity toward the younger boy had been
obvious. Lance had pulled back in horrified surprise when a small
group of older boys had surrounded Justin before they could leave the
dining hall and taunted him for no reason. The small boy had tried to
get away but they just threw him back to the middle of the circle,
saying mean things until he broke down and cried. Then, with their
mission accomplished, they had sauntered away leaving him ashamed and
embarrassed in front of his new roommate. Justin had searched Lance's
face for support and finding none, turned and left the room, Lance
trailing miserably behind.

Lance was torn. In the end, his only decision was to go see Joan and
ask her for advice. Much later, he dropped into a restless sleep. In
the other bed, Justin could feel the confusion in Lance. He sighed
softly. Inside his chest was the ache of loneliness that he had lived
with for so much of his ten years. The hope that a small part of that
very large hole would be filled had died when he looked at Lance's
face after the scene in the dining hall. Ugly thoughts churned in his
head, voices carrying hateful messages— "No one wants you. Who do you
think you are, boy? You're a nobody. I wish you'd never been born.
He hasn't even got one friend here. It can be unpleasant for you
having Justin for a friend. He's just a bad boy. You are a baby!" He
curled into a tight ball as if he could protect himself from the
barrage and wept into his pillow until he exhausted himself and sleep
took over.

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