The following day, Mark took his mother out to look at several places; some were apartments in apartment complexes, but there were also a couple of apartments in large, older homes. A few of these were half of a duplex and one was a small home for rent. After looking at the various options and discussing it with her son, Susan decided that she liked the small home for rent best. It had two bedrooms, a lovely bath and she felt it would best meet her needs. She’d also have a guest room, in case she ever had visitors.
Mark and his mother quickly made the arrangements and signed a lease, so now all we’d have to do was help her furnish the place appropriately. Mark and Susan were both quite excited when they arrived at our house and Mark was eager to tell us all about where she would be living. I knew the place, as friends of my late wife and mine had lived there when they were first married. They actually stayed there five or six years, before moving to a larger home. I remember it was a nice place, although small, but perfect for a single person or couple. I was happy for her, but I could see from her expression and demeanor that she was extremely excited about it too.
We had Susan over for dinner that night, to give her a chance to become acquainted with what was left of my brood and allow her to see the animals in their natural habitat. Oh, no, not au naturel, just in their natural environment, where they were most likely to act as they normally would. She seemed to enjoy her time with us and told me later she was glad Mark got to be included in our family. Even though he was older when he joined us, he had told her many times how great it was to be part of such a large and loving home. He also confessed it helped erase some of the pain and sense of longing that still lingered from having grown up with only his mother for support.
She then went on to explain she had tried her best for him, but didn’t realize how much a boy needed a father and possibly even siblings to feel complete. I told her she had no reason to feel bad, as she had done a fine job with him, otherwise he wouldn’t have grown into the terrific young man he was today. That was due to her love and care. Then I reminded her that many kids have regrets about their youth, but that was the nature of the beast and something to be expected. I reiterated she had nothing to be sorry about and had done her best with the cards she was dealt. I informed her Mark never had a bad word to say about the way she raised him and he loved her dearly, so she should not be second-guessing herself. She thanked me for what I said and then I took her on a tour of the nuthouse.
After we dropped Susan at the Spences later, Mark proved he was more enthused about everything than even his mother had been. He told me about the house and how it was perfect for her, and then he thanked me for suggesting he ask her to come live here. Mark was so excited about this change in circumstance, that he began to act almost like a little kid again and I was very pleased he was so happy.
I told him I’d have the Spences take his mother around to pick out some furniture for her new place on Monday. We had talked things over with her before she moved and decided it would be easier and better if she sold her old stuff before she left, rather than trying to move it across country. Now that she had a place, it was time to fill it with things suited to fit comfortably. This news made Mark even giddier and I marveled at how his and his mother’s happiness paralleled each other. I guess that comes from only having one other person around most of your life, so you become more in tune with what they are feeling and what pleases them the most.
Sunday started off as usual, with all of us going to church, and Susan joined us. She sat next to Mark and his girlfriend during the service and after the sermon had concluded, we introduced her to a few members of the congregation. We felt if she made some contacts and established herself in her new home, it would help her feel part of the community faster. I thought everything went quite well and Susan and one particular lady seemed to hit it off really well, so maybe she had even found a new friend. The woman even offered to come over and help Susan clean up her new place before moving things in, an offer that Susan graciously accepted, after a few mild protestations.
We went out for brunch after that, as was our custom after church, and had another enjoyable time. Susan was getting to know some of my boys, but this also gave her a chance to get to know Mark’s girlfriend better, as well. After a few tense moments, where neither of them was quite sure how to proceed, they found a common ground. This happened when they were talking about Mark and soon each started to warm up to the other. This seemed to please Mark immensely and I could tell there would be no problem between the two women or any struggles over his affection.
After we got back to the house, Cole cornered me and asked if I’d go with him someplace, although he wasn’t being very open about where. All he would say was there was something he wanted to show me, and it wouldn’t take very long. Knowing he seldom asked for much, I agreed. I realized it must be important to him or he wouldn’t have bothered me about it. He wanted to drive, so we took the Grand Am, and soon I found myself staring at a thirty-year old Mustang GT Fastback, in need of a lot of work.
“Dad, I want to buy this and fix it up,” he told me.
“Cole, if you think we need another car for the family, fine, I will consider getting one, but I don’t think this is it.”
“No, Dad. You don’t understand. I want THIS car, so I can work on it,” he emphasized.
“Do you realize how much work this is going to need?” I asked, completely amazed he would even consider this. “The body alone is going to take a tremendous amount of work, but I’m sure it’s also going to need the engine repaired, as well.”
“I know, Dad, but I really want to do it,” he pleaded. “I’m taking classes on body work and engine repair, and I really want a chance to try something like this on my own. I’ll use my own money, but I just wanted you to say you understand and that it’s okay with you.” He looked at me and waited anxiously for my approval.
“Do you realize it’s probably going to take a lot of money to fix it up,” I warned, “even with you doing all of the work?”
“Yes, but I really want to do it. Okay?” he pleaded, again.
“And where will you do this work?” I challenged.
“My automotive teacher said I could work on it as part of a project for class, so I can use the school facilities for now,” he informed me. “He’ll get what I need, when I need it, and I’ll just pay him back as we go along. What do you think?” I thought about it for a minute or so, before I responded.
“Well, it seems like you’ve done your homework and know what you’re getting into,” I began, “so if this is what you really want to do, it’s okay with me.”
Cole started dancing around and I began to picture him as he was shortly after he came to live with me. Once again, he was a young boy who was eager to please and even the most insignificant gestures I made meant so much to him. He had been so deprived growing up that even the simplest things seemed like a big deal to him, such as his being overjoyed because I was going to let him buy a junk car.
About that time the owner came out of his house to see what we wanted, so I explained the situation to him and negotiated a deal. I think he tried to take advantage of us, after noticing how excited Cole was about wanting the car, but I got him down to what I thought was a fair and reasonable price. I gave him a down payment, got a receipt in return and then told him we’d be back the following afternoon with the rest of his money. I explained we’d tow the car away at that time, although he assured us we could drive it away, if we wanted to. In response, I informed him we wouldn’t be licensing it until Cole had completed his repairs, so we would tow it away for now. He said he understood and everything was set.
Cole was nearly bouncing in his seat as we drove back home and bolted from the car as soon as it stopped. He then raced inside, to tell his brothers about his good fortune. I was pleased he was so excited about this, especially since it was something he could do as part of his class load. Cole’s learning problems had often made school a place he’d rather not be, so maybe this would turn things around for him.
Getting him into the vocational program was designed to give him a chance to be successful, do something he was interested in and would benefit him in the future, so it was nice to see him so energized by something that was school related. We both acknowledged he would probably be one of the few, if not the only one, who wouldn’t be going off to college after graduation, so if this gave him a leg up on finding his niche in life, I was more than happy to support him. I wish everything were this easy to deal with.
It was the middle of the first full week of school when I received a call from the State Police, so I figured it must have something to do with the boys and the assault case. However, as I began to speak with the person at the other end, I soon learned this was not the case and he wasn’t even from our area.
“Mr. Currie, this is Captain Brain Foster of the Minnesota State Police,” he began, making me wonder what any of us could have done while we were in Minnesota to get the State Police to call me at home.
“We understand you were the one who reported two very suspicious campers on a lake in northern Minnesota. Is this true?”
I hesitated momentarily, before I responded, because I was curious as to what all this was about. “Yes, I did,” I confirmed. “I gave the information to a forest ranger as we were about to leave. Why, did something happen?”
“You might say that,” he replied. “After talking to those men, the rangers kept them under surveillance afterward and called us in for assistance. They did this because they noticed a stash of weapons in one of their tents and determined it would be best if they had armed assistance before they did anything more, since none of them carry guns. When a few of my men went to confront the campers, we arrested them on weapons charges and fingerprinted them. When we ran the prints, we were astounded to discover it connected them to a series of unsolved crimes in three states.”
“Wow, I knew they gave me a creepy feeling,” I exclaimed, “and my whole family was worried they might try to follow us, but it’s always interesting to learn they were actually wanted.”
“More than wanted, Mr. Currie,” he replied. “Law enforcement agencies in three states were conducting intensive manhunts for them. They turned out to be the interstate killers we had been looking for, for several months, and without your help we wouldn’t have caught them.”
“Murderers?” I gasped. This drew the attention of Jake and some of the boys, so they came over to listen in on what was going on.
“Yes. They had committed multiple homicides,” he confirmed. “They would kidnap their victim, which included both young males and females, and then sexually assault them for a period of time, before they killed them and dumped their bodies. Most were dumped in rivers, ponds or lakes along lonely back roads, so the corpses weren’t discovered until weeks afterward. By then, the water and decomposition erased most of the evidence, so we didn’t have much to go on. We’re afraid there might still be other bodies out there we haven’t discovered yet.”
“How were you able to tie them to the crimes then, if the water got rid of most of the evidence?” I wondered. I had to be certain they had the right men.
“There were several factors which helped us determine their guilt,” he replied. “Some of these have been reported to the press, so I can also divulge them to you. We recovered a roll of nylon rope at their campsite, which precisely matched the chords used to tie up the victims. We were also able to match hairs found on undergarments of the victims to one or both of the men and we even lifted their fingerprints off of the victims’ belts, purses and shoes. We were also able to get a ballistic match on bullets recovered from some of the bodies and the weapons we seized.
“The final, and probably most damning evidence,” he continued, “came when we found various victims’ DNA in extra sleeping bags the pair had in their possession. Those two are going away for a long time, at the very least, and you have earned the reward that was offered. Who do you want me to have them make the check out to and where do you want it sent?”
I was dumbfounded by this news and it took me a few seconds to regain my composure and respond. “Mr. Currie, are you alright,” the officer asked, when I didn’t answer in a reasonable amount of time.
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry,” I finally told him. “It’s just that I wasn’t expecting anything like this.”
“I understand, but several law enforcement groups and independent organizations had set up a reward for information leading to their capture and conviction,” he explained, “and there’s no doubt you deserve it.”
“But they haven’t been convicted yet,” I protested.
“I’m sorry, there is more that I haven’t told you,” he apologized. “The murders began in Illinois and then spread through Wisconsin, before moving to Minnesota. I understand the men have consented to a plea agreement with the Minnesota State prosecutor’s office and will plead guilty to the three homicides that occurred in our jurisdiction. They will serve three life sentences each, without the possibility of parole, which will run consecutively, so they’ll never see freedom again. They were willing to accept the deal, if we agreed not to extradite them to Illinois, which is the only one of the three states that has the death penalty.”
After discussing this with him in more detail, I directed the check be made out to The Castaway Foundation, as I felt the reward should be used to help others who had been victimized by society. This baffled the Captain for a few minutes, until I explained the situation to him, and then he told me the check would be in the mail within a week. I thanked him, but he also thanked my family and me in return.
After I hung up, I explained to the others what the call was about. The check arrived about twelve days later and I turned it over to Mark, who made sure it was deposited with our other investments.
That was pretty much the extent of the excitement until September 12th, which was when Andrew, my youngest, celebrated his thirteenth birthday. I really wanted to have a big party for him and invite all his friends, but he told me he didn’t want that. I had a good idea why, but honored his wishes by having a very small party for him, with only family attending.
I figured at least part of his reasoning for not wanting a party was that he still felt his lack of physical maturity indicated he was a baby. I think he felt the idea of a large birthday party with friends invited would only reinforce that concept of himself. Therefore, to keep from aggravating the situation further, I shelved the idea of a large party and only planned a special dinner for the occasion. I invited the extended family to join us, like I do for everyone’s birthday, so he wouldn’t feel we were treating him differently.
Now that Mark’s mother was living in the area, we included her as well, but I didn’t have the opportunity to spend much time with her or our other guests. Shortly after everyone arrived, I realized I had a young man who needed my attention more. The problem started when Andrew raced off and hid in his room, to avoid his guests. I went to find him, to see if I could rectify the situation.
“Hey, little man,” I said, after I opened the door to his room, “you’ve got people looking for you. They want to wish you a happy birthday.”
“I’m no little man,” he snapped back, not even looking at me. “I’m the baby of the family and that doesn’t just mean the youngest.”
“Hey, I thought we settled this before,” I objected. “You know that’s not true and you’re the only one who thinks that way.” I moved closer, to give him a hug, but he pulled away.
“You don’t have to hug the baby to make him feel better,” he told me. His biting tone put a stinging edge on his comment.
“Andrew, you know I hug all my boys, even Mark,” I reminded him. “Do you think any of them are babies?”
“No, but they’ve got more than a baby size dick and they have hair over it too!” he spat back, defiantly.
“And you think that’s what it takes to become a man?” I challenged, and then I just stared at him and awaited his response.
“It’s not the only thing, but it’s a start,” he concurred.
“So you think someone who hasn’t reached puberty can’t be a man?” I wanted to know. He merely looked at me and tried to figure out if I was setting a trap for him.
“That’s right,” he agreed, “and I know it’s true.”
“And how do you know that?” I pressed.
“I just do,” he blurted out, as the tears started rolling down his cheeks. After waiting a few more seconds, he continued.
“I’m tired of the other guys in my class staring at me in the locker room and making fun of my tiny dick,” he confessed. “It’s bad enough that I’m different because I’m not cut, like most of them are, but having a baby dick makes it worse.”
Hearing this, I felt horrible. I knew how cruel kids could be and it seems they were targeting Andrew because of his lack of physical maturity. I searched my brain for a way to help him.
“Okay, what if I set up an appointment with the doctor, to make sure there’s no medical reason for this?” I offered. “Would that make you feel better?”
“It might,” he relented, “but I won’t feel better until I get some hair down there and my dick starts to get bigger.” This time he let me give him a hug when I tried.
“Well, that’s the best I can do for now,” I explained. “Tomorrow, I’ll call and make an appointment for you, but in the meantime I want you to come down and try to have some fun. Okay?” He nodded, although barely, so I put my arm around his shoulder and walked him downstairs.
Sammy immediately sensed there was a problem and came to ask me what was wrong. I quickly explained what had just transpired and Sammy became upset that his brother’s birthday was starting out so poorly. I tried to reassure him that I thought Andrew would snap out of it shortly, so we went in to eat.
The meal went well, although Andrew was still brooding about being an immature teen. He was chatting with the others, even though his conversations were not as enthusiastically conducted, as I would have hoped. No one else seemed to pick up on his mood, other than his brother and I, so no one treated him any differently. After we ate, we waited a little while before we had the cake and ice cream and then we gave Andrew his presents.
Prior to the party, I had discretely suggested that everyone should choose their gifts for Andrew carefully this year and was pleased with the results. The extended family bought him designer label clothes and items that were really big with older teens, a fact that was not missed by Andrew. He even went and tried some of them on and modeled them for us, and he looked really good in them too. The Shay’s also bought him a small diamond stud earring, with my prior approval of course, which had special significance to Andrew. This was because I had been telling him I wanted to wait until he was a little older before he got any piercings, so this was another sign to him that we considered he was growing up.
Although the boys gave him some CD’s during the extended family portion of the party, they had some other gifts for him to open after everyone else left. His brothers had chipped in and purchased three DVD’s – one gay, one bi and one straight sex, because no one knew for sure yet what his preference was going to be. They also bought him a couple of starter dildos in progressive sizes, and a box of flavored condoms. Andrew was thrilled when he saw those items, because it confirmed his brothers didn’t think of him as a little boy any more either.
When it came time to give him my gift, I had to take him outside, where he found a dirt bike, with a big red bow on it, leaning up against a tree. I had Mark go out and move it there while Andrew was modeling his clothes, so it would be in place for the big moment. Now, you might be wondering why I chose this particular gift for him, and there is a very simple explanation. Andrew had been teasing for a dirt bike for some time now, and once again I told him I’d let him know when I thought he was ready to handle that responsibility. I decided this was the ideal time to give my youngest his wings, or in this case his wheels.
When he saw it, he started racing around the dirt bike, like it was a maypole, and then he jumped on it and asked if he could start it up. I told him he could, instructed him on what he would be required to do and then guided him through a little test spin on the lawn. Once I was confident he could handle it on his own, I let him take it out in the field for a quick spin around our property. The glow that radiated from him, and the smile chiseled on his face, let me know the meaning of this gift was not lost on him.
After prying him from the seat, we went back inside until the others left, and then I let him go back out for another ride. Other than his slow physical development, I think we put an end to Andrew’s fears that we still considered him a little boy.
A few days later, I took him to see the doctor, who asked Andrew all kinds of questions about himself and what he knew about his biological family. Once the doctor finished making his notes and giving Andrew a very thorough examination, he ordered a series of blood tests, which would check for thyroid, pituitary, chromosomal, and other problems. The doctor also ordered a ‘bone age’ x-ray, to see if his bones were developing normally.
We had to go to the hospital a couple of days later to have these tests done, and then we waited a few more days for the results to come back. I knew this was going to be a tough wait for my little man, until we learned if there were any medical reasons for his delayed start. Even though we might have healed some of his psychological wounds at the party, he wasn’t over this yet. Hopefully, his physical concerns would be history, once we knew the results of these tests.
In the interim, we went out to help the Beckers harvest some of their crops and do other chores around the farm. The harvest would eventually take most of the month to complete, seeing we only worked on the weekends, but the boys were actually reveling in seeing some of the fruits of their labor (please excuse the pun). In fact, many of the meals we ate at the farm during our time there consisted of items gathered from the Beckers’ garden. The boys thought it was neat that they had actually helped to grow what was now helping to fill their bottomless pits. Besides, it always seems more satisfying when the food you eat is the result of your own effort.
We did a great deal of work while we were there and came home Sunday evening tired out from the effort. We had put in a weekend’s worth of hard labor, which drained us, but it was a good type of exhaustion. We all felt proud about what we were doing. The fact that we were helping the Beckers cope with the situations they were currently dealing with made it even more rewarding. It may not have eliminated the Beckers’ problems, but I did feel it would help to make it easier for them to get through the days, weeks and months ahead.
While we were at the farm, the boys also brought their books and homework with them. They did their assignments after dark, when the work on the farm was done for the day, and were basically pretty good about keeping up with everything. Even though they sometimes found it hard to concentrate that late at night, due to their physical exhaustion, they didn’t let it get them down. I tried very hard to be understanding about it too, but there were a couple of times when I had to get after one or more of the boys and make him do what was expected.