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    R. Eric
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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I've Always Loved You - 12. Christmas Part 4

It's almost a year, Daniel. I miss you. I still love you. I always will.

Christmas Part 4

 

Life in the house had changed so much after adding Mike and Chet. What had been just me, Della and even Mark for a while, now I had Mike and Chet added. Now, Ray and Frank had come and now Avi and Eli were there who were even helping Mike with the dishes. The house was now more than the place I lived, but a home.

Getting Chet off to school was done making sure he had all his books and wore his uniform correctly. After the dishes were done, Eli, Avi, and Mike were sitting together until Della arrived adding to our visitation. Then Mark came looking sharp in another expensive looking dark brown suit. It wasn’t too long before Amy arrived we continued to visit, with Della left to deal with a group that came to record on the other side. Amy then gave the necessary paperwork to Avi to sign with instructions about carried a firearm in South Carolina. Mike, Chet and I were meeting Avi and Eli in Atlanta, then we would arrive in Charleston on the twenty-third. We would all go with Chet to his grandparents, though Mike and I would go with them and leave after that.

At the table in the kitchen, we all sat together when at last Amy took the papers we had gone through and signed making them neat as she tapped them together before putting them in her briefcase. “I’ll fax them, make legal copies and mail them and make sure you have legal copies with you. The originals I will keep.”

Mike nodded as his expression held an impressed look. “Wow, that’s…very thorough.”

Amy smiled patiently. “It’s the best way to avoid…confusion…in the long run.”

Mike sighed as he looked at me and nodded. “I told Eric some things last night…and I…” he bowed his head a little as he struggled with words.

I reached out and touched his hand.

“I didn’t realize…” he waved his head in a shrug, sort of, “I mean, how did I know everyone would be knowing me?” Looking up he instantly pressed on. “I did some things in the past…when I was a child and when a teenager…I shouldn’t have done.”

Mark looked a little surprised. “You committed some crime or crimes?”

Amy frowned at Mark. “He said he was a child and a teenager.” She reminded Mark and looked at Mike. “Can you tell us what those things are?”

Mike was struggling with telling them and couldn’t look them in the eyes. “I was…basically a prostitute.”

Mark’s expression was now…well, he wasn’t smiling. Shock?

Amy however, looked at Mike with compassion. “How old were you?” Amy asked.

“I stopped at about fifteen,” Mike said.

I rushed in. “He was abandoned by his mother, who left him to live on the street!” I said to the urgently. “He did it to eat and have a place to stay.”

“Oh,” Mark said now understanding a little. “What about social services? You were never rescued by them?” He looked at Eli almost as an accusation.

I was protective of not only Mike but Eli and Avi. “Why look at him?” I asked Mark pointing at Eli. “He was still in school himself when it occurred. That was almost twenty years ago. The fault is in Florida.”

Amy shook her head. “The crime has passed the statute of limitations. However, provisions can be filed.”

Mike held his hand up. “The problem is if someone recognizes me when I did…do those things. It was when I saw the images on the internet. Eric’s picture was there, but when I looked at images…I was in them. I’m mentioned by name! If it comes out…”

Mark nodded. “Oh, now, I see. What do you two want to do?”

Mike looked at me. “Eric thinks…he suggested I tell everyone in advance. To inspire others in similar situations.”

Mark sat forward thinking, you could see it. “Yes, that would be the best way to stop any speculation.”

Avi frowned. “No one was there for you?”

Mike shook his head. “My mother was…an addict.” Mike explained. “She was the one that began me doing this to make money for her habit.”

“Got mayner.” Avi said in horror to himself. “How old were you?”

“Nine,” Mike said now with more confidence as no one was blaming him.

Amy bowed her head and sighed. “Dios mio.” Then she looked up at Mike. “Your…Johns…whatever…were they male adults?”

Mike nodded. “Yes. For the most part.”

She gave a short breath of disgust. “I doubt any of them will ever come forward to say anything or they might face charges themselves…not to mention embarrassment. They are pedophiles.” She looked at Mark. “At fifteen he was under the age of consent.” She said to me.

“But they could start accusations and rumor.” Mark pointed out as he tapped his pen on the table thinking more.

“That’s right.” I nodded. “We will not be blackmailed or shamed in any way,” I said firmly.

“I didn’t do it very often.” Mike defended quickly. “It wasn’t all bad.” He actually smiled at one memory. “Mr. Blanco.” He chuckled. “He was a nice man that owned a little grocery store in South Miami. He let me work for him and stay in his storage room. He did that for about two years.”

“He held a lost child in his store!? Why didn’t he call Social Services or someone that could help?” Mark asked not understanding.

Mike laughed. “Because he was Cuban.” He stated simply. “We didn’t trust anyone in authority. He wasn’t calling anyone. Remember Castro? Cubans handle their own problems, that’s just the way they operate. They won’t trust just anyone.”

“Did he…?” I asked but couldn’t ask the question.

` Mike shook his head. “No, he was a nice man. It wasn’t too bad there, but he died when I was thirteen. That was when…” he stopped and took a deep shaky breath, “I did it more often.” He shook his head. “I had nowhere to go, I was hungry and there was no money…no one would just rent to a thirteen-year-old.”

I took Mike’s hand and squeezed it. “You don’t need to justify what happened.”

Mike nodded. “I do.” He insisted. “I hid it so long.”

Eli leaned forward and reached for Mike’s other hand. “Mike, you are not the first human to do this or have it happen.” He assured quietly. “It’s called the oldest profession for a reason. It’s gone back for thousands of years.”

Mike nodded. “Sure, but not for me.” He looked at me. “It’s not because I wanted to.” He urged to me. “I had to.”

Knowing the about the community he grew up in and what I heard and was told about Cuban-Americans…he looked like a regular Caucasian man with very dark hair. However, he was raised in that community and influenced by that community. He didn’t see a way out until he got older.

“It’s okay, Mike,” I said again. “I understand.”

A tear was forming in his eye. “It was just sex! I didn’t love any of them.” Mike said. “I do love you!” He insisted. “I do,”

I smiled bringing him close and kissing him gently. “I know you do, Baby,” I whispered to him. “I know.”

Amy smiled. “I think telling the truth is the best way to go.” She said looking at Mike. “When you’re ready.”

Mark nodded. “Your face is out there now. You are even mentioned by name with a link to you on Wikipedia. The sooner you do this, the better.” He looked at Mike closer. “Nothing after you were fifteen?”

“No,” Mike said. “I had encounters, but not for money.” He looked frustrated. “I did meet up with some others…we were six guys, all under eighteen living in this little…three-room apartment…I guess I did do it until seventeen…to pay rent…we all did.” He shook his head. “I got a job. I worked, but…when short on the rent…” he said asking what else could he do with his tone.

“You survived, Mike.” I reminded him and I looked at Amy and Mark. “Could this have an effect on Manny’s and Wynona’s attempt to take Chet?”

Amy chuckled and shook her head. “Absolutely not.” She held her hand up to Mike. “Don’t take this wrong, but…a former streetwalker, who has reformed and now married…raising a child? No. They can’t use the past to take Chet.”

Mark nodded. “In fact, I think if you tell everyone what happened in the past, they might just back off.”

Mike nodded. “It would be embarrassing for them.” He sat back with a sigh. “How do I explain this to Chet?”

“He’s come a long way in a few months, Mike,” I assured. “You can do it alone or with me. You’re choice.”

Mike shook his head. “I couldn’t explain Sherry’s death to Chet. What do I say to him about this?”

“Mike,” I said. “You couldn’t because of what his grandparents told him, which he believed. You will tell him the truth.” I smiled. “You’ve taught him well how to analysis things. See things logically. He can do it again. He will understand.” I smiled at Mike. “He will,” I assured.

Mike nodded. “I hope so.” He sighed. “I will…” he chuckled smiling at me and squeezed my hand, “we…will tell him tonight.”

 

When Chet came home there was no one here, but me and Mike. His first question after looking around was, “Where’d Uncle Avi and Uncle Eli go?”

I looked at Mike, who wasn’t as happy as he normally was. I turned back to Chet. “They will be back,” I said going over to Chet and took his bookbag. “You know they will be here to go with you to your Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house. So, you’ll see them in a week.” I looked up at Mike. “Mike.”

He looked at me bringing him from his thoughts and nodded dreading what he needed to tell his son. “We might as well do it now.” He sighed and then smiled at Chet. “How was your day?”

Chet shrugged. “Fine. Just before Christmas break, no one was too busy.” He replied, but he looked puzzled knowing his father. He knew something was happening. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

Mike took a deep breath. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Can we let him get in first?” I muttered to Mike. “We always hit him with things right when he gets home from school.”

Chet wasn’t backing down as he got closer to his father. “Dad?”

He smiled and nodded. “PopE’s right. We’ll talk about it after dinner, okay?”

“Is something wrong?” Chet asked and looked at me. “Am I in trouble?”

I knew children often took the blame for things in their mind at first, so I turned him around hugged him quickly. “What? No!” I glared at Mike. “See? We’ll make him wary to come home.” I looked at Chet. “You are not in trouble in any way, okay? You’re Dad needs to tell you something…that is difficult for him. He will tell you. It has nothing to do with you.”

Mike nodded. “PopE’s right.” He walked over hugging his son. “It’s about me.”

Chet looked in his father’s eyes. “You had trouble telling me about Mom. You aren’t going to leave, are you?”

Mike’s eyes grew. “What!?” He was instantly shaking his head and hugged him again quickly. “No! No, no, no, son. I’m not leaving. You’re not leaving. PopE’s not leaving. We’re a family now.” He brought his son into a hug again and held him. “Don’t worry about that.” He pulled Chet back a little. “It’s about the past. There are things in my past I need to tell you and because we’re known now…what I have to tell you…I’m having problems with. Okay?”

“Okay.” Chet was satisfied a little, but concerned seeing his father’s face.

Mike smiled softer at his son. “I just…hate telling you. You might not …see me as you do now after you do.”

Chet’s eyebrows came together. “I see you as Dad.” He shrugged. “How will whatever you tell me change that?”

It was a simple statement and question, but very powerful. It was a simple fact. I smiled at Mike. “He told me. I see him just like before…even better now.”

Mike smiled at me and looked down at Chet. “We’ll talk after dinner.”

 

We had a nice dinner. A somewhat spicy Tex-Mex chicken Parmesan. I love that flavor! Salsa was in it! It was nice just having us at the table for a change. I loved we were really becoming a family.

At the end of our meal, Mike smiled tightly to me. “Okay, Chet, here it is.” He looked at his son. “Tell me what you know of your grandmother…my mother.”

Chet looked surprised. “Nothing.” He said. “I only know you told me you haven’t seen her since before I was born.”

Mike nodded. “That’s right. I haven’t. I never even seen my father.” He looked at Chet. “Have they taught you about drugs in school? I know I’ve told you about some of them.”

Chet nodded. “You said don’t do it. They were bad. You told me about pot, cocaine, and others…school has this whole presentation about the bad things drugs can do.”

Mike nodded. “When I was a little boy…younger than you are now…my mother got involved with some dangerous people. She began to do drugs. They are expensive. You become hooked on them and would do anything to get the money to get them.” He hesitated and took a breath. “The world can be…very unpleasant.”

I smiled at him and took his hand and that made him smile a little easier at me.

“I was a year older than you are now,” Mike explained. “Mom had no money, but she had to have…whatever…she thought she needed. She had someone with money offering her that money in exchange for something.” Mike looked at Chet. “We’ve talked about sex. You know that PopE and I do it as adults. What this man wanted was sex…but it was not love. He wanted it from me.”

Chet’s eyes widened. “You!?”

Mike nodded. “That’s right. He wanted to have sex with a little boy. My mother let him do that with me to make the money for her drugs. I didn’t have a choice.”

Chet was trying to understand. “You knew what sex was?”

Mike shook his head. “Not much more than you do now.” He held a finger up and said firmly. “It is not what PopE and I do. I wasn’t the one having sex…he was. I was just the object. It was a while before I understood that, but that happened a lot for the next few years.” He drank more tea like it was alcohol for courage, or just to wet his suddenly dry throat. “There were many men that wanted to do that. My mother found out they would pay her, so she let them.” He took another deep breath. “When I was about twelve…she disappeared. She left me alone. It was a few weeks and I didn’t know if she was alive or dead…I still don’t, but no one was paying the bills so I could live there. No one was buying groceries. I was on my own. A nice man let me live and work for him. He was very nice, but then he died.” Now, there were tears coming from his eyes. “Again, no one was looking out for me. I was again, on my own. I knew what some men wanted and…I did it. This time, I decided to do it. They would pay me so they could have sex.” He shook a little. “I was a prostitute.” He couldn’t look at his son. “As soon as I could, I got a real job and I stopped doing it. There weren’t jobs for young people that age and sex was the one thing many wanted and I had done it before, so I did it, to pay bills and eat.” He shrugged and he looked at Chet. “I didn’t want to do it. I had to or die.”

Chet listened and his mouth dropped open.

“In many ways, I believe that is what your grandparents are afraid of,” Mike said. “That I…or PopE will ask you to do things you are not ready for.” He was slowly crying now. “I would do anything to keep it from happening to you. I will look out for you, but no one did that for me.” He wiped his face of the tears. “I will be here for you. PopE will be here for you. Uncle Mark, Aunt Della, Grandpa Ray, Grandpa Frank, Uncle Eli and Uncle Avi…those are just some of the many people that will be here for you. I didn’t have them. I don’t want you to see me differently because of what I told you.” He sighed again from the heaviness of what he’d told Chet. “Life can be nice and pretty, but not always. I will do all I can so you will never have that in yours.” He pointed at Chet.

I watched as Chet…using what his father taught him to do…thought. I watched a series of looks from confusion to sadness as he absorbed what his father had said and finally looked at his father. The last thought was sadness. He got up slowly going to his father.

“You were alone.” Chet shook his head. “I am sorry about what happened to you.” He smiled weakly at Mike. “You are not alone now. I will never leave you, Dad.”

Mike looked confused and shook his head. “But you heard what I told you…about having to do what I did…”

Chet nodded. “I heard. You said yourself, no one was there for you. I will be.” He smiled at me. “I know PopE will be.”

Of all the things he had to tell Chet and what Chet did first was assuring his father he wouldn’t be alone made Mike smile at his son. “You understand about what I told you?”

Chet shrugged. “I know it was bad. I don’t understand a lot about sex yet, but…you’re my Dad.” He said simply. “I love you.”

Mike hugged his son. “Thank you. I love you, too.” He wiped his eyes. “I will be telling a lot of people soon. I just didn’t want it to be a surprise to you.” He rubbed his son’s back. “People can be mean. They might tease you.”

Chet gave a shrug. “Okay.”

Copyright © 2016 R. Eric; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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What a sad childhood Mike had! What a horrible incubator he grew up with! It’s terrible that things like that actually happen to children. And are still happening.

 

But somehow Mike survived all that to grow into the loving husband and father that he is now.  ;-)

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Chet really is amazing here in his unconditional love and support. And mature, as Gene 63 has pointed out. This also reflects on his parents, does it not? Both must have shown him what it is to love, even if his mother was about to poisoning him with her ideas about the world. Yet he seems to know what family and love mean and fully prepared to do what it takes.

I was also sad to read how he still is scarred by his loss of his mother, how he still fears that Mike and Eric might leave him.

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Except for making me cry, this was an excellent chapter! Well written and moving. Thank you.

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I am completely overwhelmed by the amazing way you tell your stories and the way that you make the readers feel the raw emotions of the characters. You are truly an amazingly gifted writer and I’m looking forward to the next chapter! Thank you so very much!

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What a dreadful conversation to have with your 8 year old son. Telling the world is the right thing to do, to keep them all safe. Brave people. 

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