The Apartment

The eight boys left behind, as Gil, Chay, and Andy went to meet Randy, were in high spirits as they rode in the two cabs to A Taste of Heaven. Peewee's infectious sense of fun had relaxed Lucas, and there was the seed of a friendship growing between them. Judging accurately that what Keith most needed was a chance to get to know them and relax around them, Mikey had deftly turned the conversation to casual, inconsequential things, a welcome relief after the emotional roller coaster of the past few hours. Donny and then Pauly and Ray had twigged to what Mikey was doing, and the most significant things discussed were the local team's chance for a championship – by common consent, judged as slim – and a discovered mutual distaste for "American Idol." As a result, Keith was beginning to relax and feel part of the group.

Ray was rather enjoying his status as no longer the new guy, but one of the ones who knew how things happened around the apartment. And he was surprised when Donny handed him a $20 as they boarded the cabs. "Don't pay him until we get to the restaurant," Donny said. "But give him the whole $20 and refuse change if he's been decent to the guys, as a tip. One of the guys who worked for Dad used to drive cab before, and he told me that sometimes tips make the difference between a decent shift and one you barely break even on. So let's be generous; we can afford it." Ray smiled and acknowledged his instructions, secretly pleased that Donny had chosen him to handle it.

As they debarked the cabs and entered the restaurant, everyone was in a good mood. The teens were laughing and joking, Peewee and Lucas giggling over some shared secret.

This merriment was brought to an abrupt end, however, as they entered. As Donny walked up to the young woman serving as greeter, a stone-faced maitre d' came stalking over. "Just what do you think you're doing?" he accosted Donny.

"I was going to ask for a table for, um, twelve," Donny began to reply.

He was cut off by the maitre d': "This is a restaurant dedicated to fine dining," he said. "We don't need any rowdy teenagers raising a ruckus here. You just turn around and go back out the door you came in!"

Donny's brow darkened. Ray realized that in several days of close contact under very trying circumstances, he'd never seen Donny lose his temper.

Nor did he this time. He looked around the room and called out, "Rocco!"

The man he addressed, dressed in a suit, looked over from the table he had been standing next to and talking with the people there, and flashed a smile of recognition. He excused himself and walked over to the group at the door.

"Donny! It's good to see you! I'm so sorry about your parents," he said.

"I need a favor, Rocco," Donny said. "Would you be so kind as to pass word to Gil Christenson, when he and the others get here, that we'll be over at the oyster bar � assuming they'll serve us. If not, probably at the diner a block further down. We were supposed to meet him here for dinner, but your maitre d' informs me we're not welcome here." He paused. "Oh, and you may want to talk to a bank about writing a new mortgage. I'll need to talk it over with Gil, but my initial reaction is that I don't want to continue holding paper on a business I'm not welcome at. Thanks." He turned away from Rocco and began to walk towards the door.

"Wait!" Rocco called out. He turned to the maitre d', and said, "What is Donny talking about?"

"That boy and his friends came in here laughing and carrying on," the maitre d' said pompously. "I informed him that this was no place for teenage hijinks, and that he and his friends should leave."

"I see," Rocco said. "Let me get this straight: you had a group of –" he counted "–eight boys walk in, happy and in high spirits, and without asking them to calm down or finding out their business here, instructed them to leave?"

"That's correct," Mikey interjected.

"Donny, you said that Gil Christenson invited you here and was meeting you and this group?"

"Yeah."

"And there were others joining you with him?"

"Yeah, two of our group who rode with him, and most likely a young man they were hoping to intervene to help as well."

"So a party of twelve?" Rocco asked. Donny nodded. "Knowing you and your family, Donny, I don't have to ask, but to bring the point home, I will anyway: your friends are able to behave in public with reasonable decorum, having a good time without being so rowdy as to disturb neighboring parties?"

"Of course."

"You know, you are your father's son. That threat about the mortgage was Don Kirkland through and through," Rocco said to Donny, adding a small smile to take away the sting.

"Hugo, I'm short handed tonight. So here's how we're going to work it." Rocco turned to the greeter. "Deanna, go bring Matt out here." She turned and went toward the kitchen. "Okay, first, Donny, I apologize on behalf of the restaurant. Would you and your friends consider staying if I comp the meal and tip, for your party?"

"You don't need to do that," Donny said.

"Yes, I think I do," Rocco said. "A big part of what keeps this place afloat is the interest rate on that paper you hold – it allows me to offer a fine dining experience at a price families can afford. If I had to pay what First Mercenary Trust would charge me, I'd have to raise meal prices, and end up pricing myself out of business." Rocco used the nickname hung on First Merchants Trust for their 'show me the money' attitude; Donny smiled at it.

Deanna returned with a handsome dark-haired 17-year-old wearing work clothes and an apron, who looked startled to see Donny. "Hey, I thought you'd vanished!" he said to him. Then, turning to Rocco, "You wanted me, sir?"

"Yes, Matt," Rocco answered him. "You still live only a couple of blocks away, right?"

"Yeah..."

"All right, run home and get a white shirt, slacks if you have a clean pair, and get back here as soon as you can. You've wanted a chance to move up to waiter? Well, tonight you get just that. You'll be handling this party, and one other table. They're expecting others to join them, a party of twelve in all, and their meal is on the house. But do up a ticket for them anyway � I want to know how much I'm out for this, and figure yourself a 20% tip on the check. I'll be giving you that tonight when we close."

"But who's going to be handling bus boy duties?" Matt asked.

"Hugo here, assuming he wants to keep working here," Rocco said, pointing to the erstwhile maitre d'. "Deanna, I want you to combine greeter and maitre d' duties for the night, and Matt, when you're free from your tables, give her a hand. But your patrons come first."

"We'd be pleased to be the young man's other table," a man standing behind the boys spoke up to say. "If the young lady will take our beverage order, we'll be happy to wait until he gets back to order. I had reservations because my wife and I and our boys enjoy your food and your service." He gestured at his two teenage sons. "But when that officious twit was going to turn these boys away, well, I didn't want to subject my sons to that. I was about to tell Deanna to cancel our reservations, that we'd go elsewhere, when you stepped in."

"That sounds fine to me," Rocco agreed. "And thank you for giving me the chance to make it right."

"You want me to be the bus boy?!" the maitre d' asked incredulously.

"Actually, no, I don't appreciate nearly losing my restaurant over your attitudes," Rocco said. "But I am short-handed tonight, and I made myself a promise never to fire anyone in anger. So you still have a job – as bus boy."

Hugo walked away smoldering.

Deanna and Rocco then showed the eight boys and the party of four behind them to adjoining tables, pushing tables together to set up a table for twelve. Matt left to change into waiter apparel.

Ray was full of questions. "What did he mean, Donny, about his mortgage, I mean?"

Rocco overheard. "It's pretty simple, young man. Don Kirkland bought this old building and remodeled it to my specifications. Then he sold it to me on a thirty-year mortgage at what was the prevailing interest back then – a very low rate for today's market. Attorney Christenson is one of my regular customers, when he wants to wine and dine clients. And he holds the paper for this place in trust for Donny until he turns 21. It's been a good relationship, one that Hugo almost queered by turning Donny and the rest of you away at the door, or trying to. Donny didn't get angry; he simply let me know that he'd be talking to Gil about selling off the mortgage, since Hugo had made him feel unwelcome here. It's a trick his father would have done. And I have little doubt that he meant every word of it. Nor do I hold a grudge about it – in his shoes, I'd have done the same thing."

Donny was deeply embarrassed about this. "Rocco, I..."

"Not another word! You were justified in what you did – and you gave me a chance to fix it. Which I appreciate, Donny. Your father might not have."

"I really don't want to be him!"

"Don't worry, son; you're not." Rocco was turning avuncular now. "My sainted mother used to tell me, your family shapes who you are, how you react to the world. But you become a man when you take what they shaped you into, and instead stand up for what you think is right. Gil's kept me posted on what you've done for these boys, and why you did it that way. Your father would never have reached out and given of himself the way you have. I respected him as a hard-nosed businessman. But you, I like – you took what he taught you, and turned it into something that helps others. He would never have done that. You're a much better man than he ever was, Donny."

Donny was shocked speechless by this. Mikey and Pauly began applauding him, and the rest of the boys joined in – as did Rocco and the family at the adjoining table.

---

At the diner...

From chapter 15:

"So, how did you end up on the streets?" Andy asked Billy.

 

"What difference does it make? I'm going to get locked up anyway, now," Billy said, abruptly sobering.

 

"See that guy over there?" Chay said. "Today alone, he's kept ten kids from having to go into Child Services custody – eleven if you count Randy." Randy looked startled at this. "If we say to help, I can almost guarantee he'll give you all the help you need – and he's one of the top lawyers in town. And, um, I have an in with the judge who's coming here to straighten out Randy's custody in a few minutes."

 

"More like the other way around, so I hear!" Andy couldn't help ribbing Chay, who blushed but laughed.

 

Billy thought about this for a minute, seemed to reach a conclusion, and said, "Well, it's like this...."

"It was me, Ma, and Uncle Arnie," he said. "I s'pose, now, Ma must have bumped nasties with somebody to get me. It's for sure no angels sang at my birth. But I didn't know any better; Uncle Arnie was what I had by way of a Dad. And he was pretty okay. Didn't hurt me much, and then only when I was bad. And he taught me how to survive."

"Y'see, nobody really gives a sh.. uh, crap about people like us. So we gotta stick together. Uncle Arnie taught me that. Ya don't rip off somebody that's in the same boat you are. Ya rip off the rich bast... uh, guys. They're the ones with the money, anyway."

"So that's what you meant?" Randy prompted.

"Yeah. If I'd have known you were on the run too, I'd have never taken your billfold. I thought you were a rich kid, didn't know your way around and ripe for the picking. I'm sorry!" Billy was obviously contrite about this.

"So how'd you come up with, uh, your method of lifting his billfold?" Andy asked.

"That was Uncle Arnie's idea," Billy said without embarrassment. "Like I said, it was me, Ma, and Uncle Arnie. And then one day the cops came for Ma. Don't know why, to this day. But they did."

"Uncle Arnie hid me. He said they'd take me too, so lay low and don't make a peep. I was scared, so I did what he said. Couple of days later, Uncle Arnie'd had a couple beers, and he was feeling a bit randy with Ma gone. So he got it out and started stroking it."

"I'd never seen that, and it was big," Billy went on. "Lookin' back, he was probably no bigger than average, but remember, I was a kid, and it looked huge to me. He saw me staring, and got this shit-eating grin on his face, and asked me if I liked what I saw. I was pretty speechless, but I nodded yeah. And he motioned me over."

"Well, one thing led to another, and I ended up sucking him off. And he told me how good it felt, and what a good boy I was for helping him out that way. Let me tell you, I was in heaven. I didn't get a lot of praise, and here I could do something that made him talk me up like that!"

"Well, he filled me in on what guys like, and he came up with this gimmick. You know, when you've just come, you kind of lose track of things? Well, Uncle Arnie figured out that that would be the perfect time to lift their wallets and stuff."

"Sounds risky; what if you got caught?" Chay asked.

"Well, if they come down from their high fast enough to catch you, all you gotta do is make like it was an accident, that it was sliding out of their pocket while you were hanging on to their butt. And nobody is going to go to the cops. Can't you hear it: 'I was getting a blow job from this kid, and he tried to pick my pocket!'?"

"I see your point," Chay conceded. "So you guys were making like Robin Hood?"

"Huh?"

"Steal from the rich, and give to the poor?"

"Well, we were the poor, and we kept it. But Uncle Arnie was firm about that � you don't rip off somebody who's down on their luck, just men who can afford to lose it. That's why I feel so bad about Randy."

"What do you think?" Chay said to the other two.

Andy thought about it for a minute. "Gonna be a tough one to get through to," he said after a fashion. "But I think we can do it. I vote yeah."

"Randy?" Chay prompted. "It's your call."

"Huh?"

"Can you forgive him? You're the judge here; it's you he ripped off, after all."

"What do you mean?" Randy was genuinely puzzled now.

"Just what I said," Chay replied. "We can turn Billy over to the cops, and he'll probably get sent to secure Juvy, or we can take him home with us. It's your call."

"How can we do that? Who's going to listen to us?"

Any answer he might have gotten was interrupted by the door to the diner swinging open and slamming. Through it walked a man in middle age, slightly stocky of build, with large bushy eyebrows over intense blue eyes, a prominent nose, small neat mustache, a firm chin, and dressed in a three-piece suit.

Chay's eyes lit up. "Judge!" the young Asian boy called out delightedly, and ran over to give him a hug.

Jonah Markham embraced the small Asian boy, whose head barely cleared his shoulders. warmly, and then looked around. Seeing Gil, he nodded with an affable smile.

"Good evening, Judge. Care to meet why Chay dragged you out this evening?"

"That would be my pleasure," the judge answered. He glanced around, at Billy in handcuffs, at Andy and Randy sitting with him, at Burton and Amelia waiting in a booth with Kowalski guarding them menacingly. "It looks like there's more than one item on my docket tonight," he commented.

"Oh, yeah," Chay tossed in.

"Al?" the judge addressed the counterman at the diner. "I'm going to commandeer the two booths over there and the table in front of them for an impromptu session of court. If your boss wants anything for their use, tell him to send a bill to the Clerk of Court, and I'll see it gets paid."

"Okay, judge," Al said. "You want coffee or water? On the house."

"Coffee, thanks. You know how I like it."

"Coming up."

His gaze fell on Kowalski next. "Bring those two over here, will you?" he said, in a tone that was less request than directive.

"Of course, your honor," Kowalski replied.

"Chay, run out to my car. There's a briefcase in the back seat. Bring it in to me." Smiling, the boy ran off to do the judge's bidding.

"All right, I see a boy in handcuffs, two boys I don't know, and two Child Services staffers looking daggers at a policeman. Plus you, Gil, and Chay – - who called me to say I'm needed here to prevent a miscarriage of justice. I think I need to be briefed � formally, after Chay gets back in here."

"That sounds good, judge," Gil said. "Though the boys haven't told me what they found out from Billy – that's the boy in cuffs – yet."

Chay came jogging back in with the judge's briefcase, holding his side. Andy jumped up and took it from him. "Sit down!" he ordered. "You need to see the doctor?"

"No, I just got sore around the stitches carrying the briefcase. I'll be all right."

"Okay, but don't push yourself. You know any of us would help." Andy was solicitously firm.

"One of yours?" the judge asked Gil.

"Yep. He's the Andy Carstairs you signed the paperwork for earlier."

"All right. Let's get this show on the road," the Judge said. He fished in his briefcase, pulled out a small recorder, and switched it on. "Be it known to all present," he announced sonorously, "the District Court in and for this city, Juvenile Section, is now in extraordinary session at the State Street Diner, Judge Jonah Markham presiding. Fiat justitia pro minoribus!"

"That's a very small bus for kids," Chay said under his breath. The boys giggled.

"As an officer of the court, Gil, you don't need to be sworn. Can you enlighten the court as to exactly what is going on?"

"Certainly, your honor. I will be requesting custody for at least one boy..."

Chay held up his hand. "Randy? The rubber just hit the road. Yea or nay?"

Randy looked at Billy. "I accept your apology. I'm not sure what's going on, but if they do what they said and put us somewhere where we don't have to steal to keep our freedom, will you give me your word that you won't again?"

"They ain't gonna do anything like that! I'm going to end up getting locked up and have to choose between getting beat up or raped."

The judge and Kowalski both spun around at that.

"I can guarantee that's not going to happen," the judge began.

"I called Gil here in because I didn't want to see Randy here handed over to a faceless system," Kowalski said. "I'm not sure what went on with you boys, but it sounds to me like Chay and Randy think you deserve a break. You may think I'm your enemy because of this uniform and badge, but I'm here to tell you that nothing would give me more pleasure than to help a kid get his life straightened out. You go to Secure Juvy. only if the judge here orders it – you'd be held there to appear before him tomorrow anyway. Don't mess this chance up, boy."

"It's up to you, Randy," Chay interjected.

"No, it's up to him," Randy replied. "I asked him a question. Based on what he said, I'll stand by him if he gives me his word and keeps it."

"You got balls," Billy said at Randy in admiration.

"I figured you noticed that earlier � you were in their vicinity, after all!" Randy quipped. Kowalski, Gil, Andy, and Chay broke into laughter.

"Take the gamble," Andy said to Billy. "You know what the alternative is, and I'm sure that's something you don't want."

"Yeah," Billy begrudged. "All right. If you can pull a magic rabbit out of a hat, you've got my word – and it's good. I've pulled some stunts I'm not proud of, but I've never broken my word to anybody."

"Good enough for me," Randy said.

"Two," Chay said to Gil.

"Okay," he said. "I'll be asking for custody of two boys, and..." he broke off. "Randy, did your parents have a lawyer?"

"Not that I know of," Randy answered.

"You were an only child?"

"Yessir."

Gil looked at Amelia. "I presume Child Services did their usual fast claim on assets?"

Amelia looked shamefaced. "No doubt. Someone has to pay for the care for children in our custody, after all."

Gil turned back to the judge. "I'll also be asking for emergency letters testamentary for the estates of Vincent and Margaret Hollister, deceased, Randy's parents, and the voiding of Child Services lien and seizure of their property." He looked over at Randy. "Essentially, what that means is that I'll take custody of your parents' estate, their home and savings, to manage in accordance with your wishes – subject to advice on good management – until you come of age and can take it for yourself. Child Services would have sold it off to pay for keeping you in a group home."

"You mean I can keep my parents' stuff?" Randy asked.

"Yes, assuming their finances were in order," Gil said. "And I think we can work something out even if there were problems with them so you don't lose anything." He smiled at Randy, who looked relieved for the first time since his ordeal had begun.

"This is all very well and good, but can I get an explanation?" the judge asked, with good humor mixed with impatience in his tone.

"Your honor," Gil began, "I was called here by Officer Stanley Kowalski, over there, who should probably give the first part of the narrative testimony here. I will pick up where he leaves off."

"Fine. Stan?"

"Doesn't he have to be sworn?" Andy whispered to Gil as Kowalski began.

"No, as a cop he's sworn to tell the truth whenever he appears in official capacity," Gil whispered back.

"Your honor, after I went off shift, I met my wife and daughter here for dinner this evening, and as we started to leave, this young man" – he pointed to Billy – "ran into me. He was being chased by this young man" – now he pointed to Randy – "who was calling out, 'Stop! Thief!' or words to that effect. I detained young Mr. Barstow here and when Mr. Hollister came abreast of us, he informed me that Mr. Barstow had taken his billfold. I frisked Mr. Barstow and came up with a wallet containing $104 and Mr. Hollister's photo ID and a few other pieces of paper with his name on them. I then detained Mr. Barstow as a juvenile accused of a crime, and phoned for a pickup. I was told to hold both boys – that Mr. Hollister had run from Children's Services custody this morning. On further inquiry I found out his parents had been killed in a car accident last night, and Children's Services were johnny on the spot to put him into a group home, and of course take custody of his family's property."

"I was the investigating officer on the complaint earlier today involving the Kirkland boy and his roommates, which Attorney Christenson informed me you were the remanding judge establishing him in custody over them. What little I saw while I was there suggested to me that the Kirkland boy had found a way to help street kids that worked. They were clearly bonded and positive role influences on each other. So when I heard Randy's story, I immediately thought of calling Mr. Christenson, and he showed up with young Chay here and Andy."

"I'm prepared to go custody of Randy, judge," Gil said. "And I am concerned to conserve his family inheritance for him as well. Chay, you propose to invite him in?"

"We'll need to do a house meeting, Gil," Chay said, "since we try to do everything by consensus. But I can say right now that I'm prepared to push for Randy's inclusion � and I think Andy is as well." Andy nodded agreement with a nervous smile.

"But," Chay went on, "when we spoke to Billy here, it sounds like he'd fit in quite well too, and it may be the only way to keep him from a life of crime. He was, um, supporting himself from stealing from the rich as they hit orgasm – through him fellating them. And he learned this from his only surviving non-incarcerated relative, his Uncle Arnie."

"Arnold Barstow?" Kowalski spoke up. "We arrested him last month – got him dead to rights on a series of burglaries. Hasn't been sentenced yet, but I don't think he'll see the light of day. And in any case, he's not what I'd consider the appropriate custodian of a minor. If you boys are willing to take Billy, I'll endorse what you have in mind."

"Sounds like they're offering you a break, young man," the judge said to Billy. "We'll talk about conditions later, but you'd be well advised to take it, and to thank your lucky stars you were offered it."

"Now," he said, turning serious, "why are Amelia and Burton here?"

"They came in prepared to manhandle young Randy off to the group home that Child Services had assigned him to," Kowalski spoke up to say. "Attorney Christenson and I, shall we say, dissuaded them from immediate action. By that point, Chay had phoned for you, so we had grounds to do so."

Burton looked at Amelia. She shrugged and answered. "We were dispatched by the night shift supervisor to pick up a couple of boys legally placed in our custody." She brandished the paperwork she had been holding.

Judge Markham scowled. "Let me see that." He took it and reviewed it.

"Amelia," he said at length, "Let me make one thing crystal clear to you, and you can relay it back to Alfred. I'll be speaking to the commissioner tomorrow and drive it home to her too. Decisions on custody come from me, or from Judge Rosenblatt in Superior Court, and take the child's wishes and welfare into account – not from any civil service bureaucrat who gets his or her hands on a form and thinks that makes him or her God."

"Randy, it appears that Gil is willing to protect your interests – which is more than I can say for those the taxpayers pay to do that job, and that Chay and his friends are willing to open their home to you. But it's up to you whether this is something you're willing to do. Speak up, son."

"Um, I don't know much about what they have in mind – but it's got to be better than what Karl's life in his group home was like." He paused and gulped. "Yeah, I think I'd like to try it. But can I come back to you if it doesn't work out?"

"Of course. Just come to my office at the courthouse. Chay knows the way, and I know he'll be glad to help you."

"Thanks, judge."

"Gil, consider those emergency letters signed as of now. I'll expect them in my office tomorrow, but act on them now, before someone confiscates this boy's property."

Gil was all smiles. "Consider it done, your honor. And thank you."

"It's my job." Markham looked serious. "Mr. Kowalski, how sure are you of the theft you mentioned earlier?"

"I'm not a detective or a prosecutor, sir," the cop answered. "But in this beat cop's opinion, we've got him dead to rights. Probably a good lawyer could bargain it off, but he's looking at time whichever way it goes."

"Thank you. Mr. Barstow, anything you'd like to say?"

"Would it do any good?" Billy was half nervous, half defiant.

"Maybe. I'd appoint you a lawyer, but the only lawyer present just took your victim's case, so that's out for the moment."

Chay spoke up. "Judge? I don't know much more than what you've heard, but I've got a gut feeling we can trust his word. And I don't think Secure Juvy is the place for him."

"Thank you, Chay. I can't rule based on gut feelings, though." He paused in thought.

"Mr. Barstow? I have a proposal for you. You are free to accept or reject this – knowing that if you reject it, you get locked up pending a juvenile trial. First, you admit your wrongdoing and ask for the court's mercy, regretting your mistake. That will go on record. Then I will adjourn your case indefinitely. You'll be free to go, providing you keep your nose out of trouble. Gil, are you prepared to take custody – same arrangement as with Chay and the other boys?"

"I am, your honor."

"Does that sound acceptable to you, Mr. Barstow? Be aware that they not only can but are expected to notify me if you head for trouble again – it won't be ratting you out but protecting themselves and trying to take care of you."

Billy looked skeptical. Andy leaned over and whispered something to him. His eyebrows raised, and he glanced at his crotch involuntarily.

"Um, I'd like that, your honor."

"So ruled. Any other business to be dealt with tonight? I'm hungry."

"No, your honor," Gil said. "But why not join us at A Taste of Heaven. I know you love Rocco's cuisine, and I'm treating the boys to a meal. Everybody but Chay and Andy, and now Randy and Billy, is already there waiting on us."

"I'll accept that invitation with pleasure. Court's adjourned." He turned off his recorder, and put it back in his briefcase.

To be continued

---

Editor's Notes: Let me just say that I am really impressed. I wish there were more police officers, lawyers and judges who actually cared about what is happening with the people for whom they become responsible. It looks to me as though justice has been accomplished here.

As for the situation at A Taste of Heaven was handled quite nicely, as well. Donny continued to show what a fine young man he really is. I doubt that if I were in his position, I would have been able to remain anywhere near as calm as he did. In fact, I expect that I would have demanded that the smart ass maitre d' be fired on the spot, before I even considered allowing the boys to eat there. I would certainly have done what Donny did do, though, namely allow the owner to make things right.

I really do admire Donny. He is quite a fine young man.

I am ready for another chapter of this wonderful story.

Darryl AKA The Radio Rancher