Suffer the Children 8 The rest of the week passed too fast. Joan observed them when they thought she wasn't looking and she thought she saw the beginnings of real friendship between Justin and the others. He still hung back a lot and didn't give them too much room to hurt him, but they seemed to genuinely enjoy his company. If only they could have more time alone together before the other children returned. When she talked to Justin about how things were going, he was cautious. He wouldn't allow himself to hope too much. Too many times, those hopes had been trashed by thoughtless words and actions. But every day, things seemed to improve. Nick no longer teased him, Howie was his usual sweet self, and Lance chatted away before they went to sleep. Lance knew he wanted to be Justin's friend. He told Joan when she asked but he also told her how scared he was of what would happen if he broke that solid wall. Joan wondered aloud if Howie and Nick would stick with Lance and Lance said he didn't think so because they had all talked about it and they were more scared than Lance. Then she went to Nick and Howie and she got a non-answer. They were confused and frightened. It was a set up for a mess. It only took one day for the older boys to realize that something had happened while they were away and that there might be serious control issues here. They watched for another day, long enough to get that Lance and Justin were now friends and that, quite possibly, Nick and Howie were as well. On the third day back, the door to Justin and Lance's room banged open and Chris barged in. "Well, well, my pretties, what do we have here?" he cackled in a witch from the Wizard of Oz voice. Justin and Lance both looked terrified, which , of course, was the goal. He pulled out a chair and straddled it, staring at Justin until Justin felt his eyes prick with tears. Before any could fall, though, Nick and Howie were propelled into the room, Kevin's and Joey's large hands gripping their necks. "Sit," Chris ordered, pointing to Lance's bed. "Ahem, it has come to our attention that the three of you may be fraternizing with the enemy." When all three just continued to stare at him, he said, "That means, you guys are hanging with Justin, possibly even befriending the little fag. Is this true?" The silence in the room was awful. The three boys were running their options through their heads and not coming up with any viable ones. Justin just sat there, knowing that his short time with friends was over. No one said a word. Chris stood and crossed to Justin, standing over the small child. He grabbed his curls and pulled him to his feet. "You see if it was true, I might have to do this to Lance," and he punched Justin hard in the stomach. Lance winced. "Or this to Howie," and he backhanded Justin's cheek. Justin was crying hard. "Or this to Nick," and he kneed Justin in the groin. He dropped the child then who fell over, holding himself and sobbing. "Now, I am going to ask once more. Are any of you friends with Justin?"  Justin didn't even look. He didn't need to. He was sure that all three had said no. He simply remained curled on the floor, wishing he was anyone but Justin Timberlake. "All righty then, " Chris said in a fake, jovial voice. "We understand each other, boys, right?" Justin heard the door slam. No one came over to him. He pushed himself to his knees and then slowly stood, the pain in his balls incredible. He never looked at them. He simply left the room. Lance was crying after Justin left. He was a coward and Justin got hurt once again and this time it hurt Lance, too. Maybe, he could go talk to Joan and figure out what to do. How to make things right. But Nick stopped him. "Chris will kill us if we tattle," he said. "We have to. I have to. Justin is my friend. I really like him. Fuck Chris." "No. Fuck you. Chris will fuck you." "I don't care. And if we all stick together, we can protect each other. C'mon, guys. Think. What has Justin ever done that would make us treat him so mean?" Nick scowled. The logic was good and the response reasonable, assuming that Chris didn't scare you shitless. At that point, Howie entered with his two cents. "Justin's a good kid. I'll stick with you and him. Let Chris go jump." Nick sighed, "I guess." Lance smiled, "I feel braver already. Let's find Justin. He's probably in Joan's office telling her."  But he wasn't. And he wasn't in the bathroom or the kitchen or any of the twenty or so places they looked. As a last resort, they circled back to Joan's office. They knocked quietly and went in. "Hi, guys, what brings you here and where's Justin?" "That's why we're here, Joan." Her heart jumped but she tried to stay calm. She gestured to the sofa. Lance told her the whole story, ending with "We can't find him anywhere." Justin squeezed himself into the corner of the bench, waiting for someone to ask him why he was  alone, but no one paid any attention to him. He was miserable and lonely and heartbroken. He had been so sure this time that things would work out and he would finally have friends. He had so much fun, especially with Lance, the last ten days. Ten days. Was it too much to ask? Why him? His eyes blurred with tears and the scene at the bus station became watery, people rushing back and forth, no one really clear, just movement and noise. He sat that way for awhile, random thoughts bringing more tears. At last, he sniffled and wiped the wetness away. He wasn't sure why he had even come here. He had no money, no way of taking a bus, and nowhere to take it to. He had no family that wanted him. He just knew that he had to get away from St. Catherine's. He only felt bad that Joan would be scared like the last time. "Where are your parents?"  Justin jumped at the sound of the voice. He hadn't noticed the desk agent coming over. The young man with a clean-cut appearance and a neat uniform which he ironed daily, looked concerned. He had seen the child on the bench and when no adults appeared, he considered it his duty to inquire.  However, he wasn't too bright, so when Justin said that his mom was in the bathroom, he said OK and went back to taking care of passengers. Justin's stomach grumbled and he ignored it. He closed his eyes and fell asleep. When he woke up, he really had to go the bathroom and he was really hungry. He only had the solution to one problem so he stood and stretched and took care of it. When he came back, he sat and wondered what to do. He looked at the clock— 8 PM.  He wanted food, he wanted his bed, he wanted to be safe. Tough what you want, Justin, he told himself. No one cares. The stupid desk agent had been replaced by an older man who looked curious. Justin noticed the man coming this time and tensed. How long do moms stay in bathrooms anyway? But he couldn't think of any other plausible lie so when the man said, "Where are your parents, son?", Justin swallowed hard and told the same story. The man cocked his head, "I've been watching you since I came on at 6PM. No one has been with you. And I checked. No one is in the Women's Room." Justin's shoulders sagged. "Want some food?" the man asked. Justin nodded, "Thanks, but I have no money." The agent, who said his name was Johnny, took him to the coffee shop and bought him dinner. They talked for awhile, Justin spinning tales of why he was there and Johnny not believing a word. At St. Catherine's, Joan was in a panic. They had searched the place. He had gone off on his own this time. It was unlikely he would seek dark, scary places, but it was getting to the point where she would look anywhere. She had listened to their story and wanted to shake them hard and do even worse to Chris and his pals. For Justin to run away like that and not come to her meant that he had lost all hope that anything could be made right. She ran her fingers through her hair and thought hard but no new ideas came. The phone rang on her desk and she ran to grab it. "Hello," she said, fear in her voice. "St. Catherine's?" a strange voice inquired. "Yes," Joan said, "This is Joan Peterson." She hoped this was about Justin because if it wasn't, she was going to slam the phone down. "Detective Tim Wilson. One of your boys is here at the bus station." Joan let out her breath. "Is he OK?"  It had to be Justin. "Yes. The desk agent called us and we recognized the uniform. Johnny is feeding him now." "I'll be right down." She nearly dropped the phone in her haste to find her keys. "Slow down. We'll keep him here." That was wasted advice. Joan couldn't move fast enough and she flew past startled staff. The ride over was short because she barely tapped the brakes at stop signs and jumped every red light. She was grateful there were no police on the way. She left the car in front and ran in the door. Tim Wilson came over. "He's in the coffee shop. Judging from the time it took you to get here, I gather you want to see him." She hurried to the door and saw him. He was smiling at something the older man was saying. He looked worn out but OK. He glanced up and saw her and forgot every bit of courtesy that had been beaten into him. He jumped up and ran over, throwing his arms around her. "Oh Justin," she sighed, "I found you." He pulled tighter. After a few minutes, she felt eyes watching and drew away, "You ready to come home?" He nodded and then turned away and went back to the table. He held out his hand and solemnly thanked Johnny for the meal. The older man ruffled his curls and said, "You're welcome. Glad your mom came." Justin started to correct him and then he didn't. Joan called from the car so there was a welcoming group when they arrived. James and the three boys stood inside the door. Justin stiffened when he saw them and they hesitated. Lance made the first move. He went over to Justin and hugged him, whispering, "I'm sorry." The others joined and made it a group hug. When they stepped back, Justin looked down, not as happy as they expected. Joan and James watched, hoping that the damage done earlier wasn't irreparable. Joan gestured toward her office, "OK, let's go talk. It's way past time." Justin took her hand and walked in front of them. They looked at one another with confusion. When they were all seated, Joan started, "Ok, who's first?" No one volunteered. "Boys, what happened with Chris today? Tell Justin." Lance, usually the quietest, needed to make it right, "Jus, I'm so, so sorry. I got so scared when he did that to you that I couldn't be brave like you. I chickened out when he asked if we were friends. Please be my friend. I'll stand up to Chris or whatever I have to do." He searched Justin's face. There was a mixture of hurt, anger, fear, and hope, all flitting through like clouds in the sky. The younger boy was silent. Then Howie said so softly that it was like a whisper, "I'm sorry, too, Justin. I've liked you since you came but I was afraid of the big boys. Actually, I still am, but if we stick together maybe..." "Maybe we'll get our asses kicked," Nick interrupted, " But maybe I'd rather get my ass kicked than to be a shithead like I've been to you." He looked worriedly at Joan then, but she was studying Justin. Justin didn't know what to do or say. It was what he had prayed for since he arrived but he'd been dropped too many times already to trust them. He sat rocking back and forth, not meeting anyone's gaze. Joan knew the internal struggle and asked quietly, "Do you want some time to think about this?" He nodded, continuing to rock. The others were watching him, wondering why he wasn't happy. Joan put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, "Justin, go in the other room for a few minutes. I need to talk to these guys." He didn't want to go, but the look on Joan's face said it wasn't his choice. When the door closed behind him, Lance blurted out, "We thought he would be happy." He was upset and didn't understand Justin's reaction. "Isn't this what he wanted?" "Um-hmm, it is," Joan said, "But he wanted it the other times, too. The times when people acted friendly and then let him down." Nick had tears in his eyes, "Like the time that I drew that picture for him and he was so excited. Then when he started to show Howie and the others, I grabbed it and ripped it up and told him I was kidding, that it really wasn't for him." They sat in silence, memories of the many times they hurt Justin, pouring in. "So what do we do?" Lance asked. "First, swear to me that you mean it this time. He can't take any more. If you are not going to stick by him, then I do not want you to promise that you will. Lance, do you remember promising me that..." "...I at least wouldn't hurt him even if I couldn't be friends," he finished. He bit his lip, "Yes, I remember. And then I did it anyway, for myself." "So don't promise if you don't mean it. I'm going to talk to Justin and you three think about it. Let me know the answer when I get back. And I mean it, boys. I will not allow you to hurt him like that again. He doesn't deserve it." The tears that they saw in her eyes scared them and they just sat and stared at one another. "Can we do it?" Nick said. His voice was thick, like he was trying not to cry. Howie reached out and rubbed his arm, comforting his best friend. Lance said, "I can. I'll just have to come here more, I guess." He laughed. Everyone knew Joan's office was safe, like home base. It was where most of the boys came to shed the tears they couldn't let anyone else see. To nurse the wounds to body and ego. To get advice on how to be OK in this hell. Lance knew she would be there when he got hurt just like she was for Justin. If he could do it, then Lance could, too. Howie sniffled, "I can't lie. I'm scared. But now I think Justin had to do this every day so I guess I can. But I need you guys. OK?"  He looked for support.  Nick sat with his hands in his lap, not looking at either of them. Howie's breath caught as he realized the possibility that Nick would ditch them and remain invisible. "Nick?" Howie's hope and fear were in that one word. Nick raised his head and sighed, "OK. Shit, I've worked so hard to stay ..." "...'under the radar'," Lance and Howie said in unison. Nick looked pissed. "Yeah, so?" Howie looked scared. Nick's shoulders sagged. He could never ditch Howie. The others maybe but never Howie, so he guessed he'd made his choice, "Count me in." In the other room, Joan was speaking to Justin in a soothing voice. "Jus, look at me," she said, tilting his chin up until he was looking directly into her eyes. The fear was there in those blue pools. "One last time, baby. Trust them one last time. I believe that they really want this." His eyes closed and he hugged himself and started rocking again. "Joan, I'm afraid. It hurts so much when ..." "I know. But if you trust them and you all become friends, you'll get what you've wanted all along." "And if Chris comes along..." he trailed off, the thought too painful to voice. "I am going to take care of Chris," she said with a harshness he had never heard. Softening the tone, she said, "Look, give them a chance. Let them prove they want this. What do you say?" He said nothing, just nodded and hoped that he wasn't being stupid again. When they opened the door and came back into her office, all eyes focused on Justin. He was looking at his feet and squeezing Joan's hand. She said, "Well?" Lance was the spokesman. "Justin, we're sorry for all the mean things we did. We want to be your friend. OK?" "OK," Justin said. With one simple word, he had put his heart back into their hands. Joan said, "You guys stick together. The others will find it harder to get to you. Then pinning Lance, Howie, and Nick, she said, "You three, prove that you want to be friends. Make Justin believe you." And they did. The four were always together and everyone watched them from a distance, waiting to learn how they should react to this. Sister Mary punished Chris severely, only increasing his irrational hatred of Justin. But the word was out to leave them alone— for now. At first, it bothered them that everyone ignored them, that no one let them into their games, or sit at their tables anymore, that they were greeted with silence. Justin was the only one who seemed undisturbed. He reminded them that he already knew how it felt from difficult experience. Sometimes, Lance lay awake at night, wondering how Justin had been able to do it for so long. Weeks went by and nothing happened. Everyone more or less returned to normal. The four boys discovered lots of common interests and they became difficult to pry apart. Joan marveled at the changes. Nick and Howie were the least affected. Lance was relaxed, his internal struggle over. The shy, quiet child was gone. He laughed out loud, teasing the others with his quirky sense of humor. Justin was happy for the first time since he came to St. Catherine's. He felt loved by Joan and his friends and safe in their midst. His guard was down and he let himself believe that he deserved this. continue menu