A Rage for Revenge

35 Tommy

The other thing happened that night.

I tucked Alec and Holly into bed-they shared a double bed in the room next to mine-and then put Tommy in his. Because he was so much older than the other two, I felt he deserved a room of his own.

Look, if I'd been more worldly, I'd have recognized the signs on the first night when I set up the accommodations. Tommy had insisted on having Alec with him. When I asked why, he said only, "'Cause he's mine."

But I'd been naive. I'd said, "Well, I know you've been together for a long time. Nobody's going to take him away from you. But I just thought that it was time you had a room of your own. "

He seemed to assent, but the next morning, I found that he'd joined the other two in their bed. I didn't think anything of it at the time, I figured it was just one more sign of what they'd been through.

So I didn't argue with it. I just let it be.

But now that I was their legal father, it was my job to support them in growing up. So, I put Tommy in his own room again and told him that he couldn't sleep with Alec all the time, and I wanted him to sleep in his own room from now on.

Then I went to bed myself.

I lay there for fifteen minutes, trying to relax-trying to force myself to relax-listening to the sound of the air conditioner, and wondering how it was possible to have a family without a wife. I had just about figured it wasn't important, the kids needed me, when somebody came pad-padding into the room.

"Tommy, is that you?"

The bed creaked as he slipped under the covers. "Tommy?"

"I want to sleep here."

I didn't turn on the light. "What's the matter?"

"Nothin'. I just want to sleep with you." He slid up close and put his arms around me. Tight. He was pretty strong for a thirteen-year-old. "You're my Daddy now."

"Uh-huh." I hugged him back and stroked his hair. "But you're a big boy now, and-hey!" I pulled the covers back and sat up. "What the hell are you doing-?"

I immediately regretted yelling. I could see his dim silhouette trembling in the dark. His voice quavered. "You don't want me?" The bottom dropped out of my gut as I realized what he was talking about.

"I thought you wanted me. Isn't that why you adopted me?"

"I adopted you because I love you, Tommy."

He sniffled.

"I do love you," I insisted. My mind was racing, trying to figure the best way to handle the situation. "I really do." He seemed almost to relax, and started to move closer again. "But-this isn't what I meant. Tommy, do you love me?"

"You won't let me!"

"That's not what I'm talking about. There are lots of different kinds of love . . ."

"What do you want?" he cried. He wasn't even listening. He was crying now, sobbing like a little girl. I began to realize: he'd offered me the only thing he had, his body, and I'd rejected it. How could I really love him if I wouldn't let him return the feeling?

"Tommy . . ." I wanted to take him into my arms and hold him, but I didn't dare.

Instead, I got out of bed. "Stay there," I grunted. I padded into the living room and punched the phone to life. Betty-John was awake-at this hour?-she caught it on the second chime. "Who is it?"

"Jim. I've got a problem."

"Can't it wait till morning?"

"No, it can't. B-Jay, did those papers on the kids ever come down?"

"No, why?"

"Tommy just tried to climb into bed with me. I want to know where-"

"Is that all?"

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear, B-Jay. He wanted to do more than sleep."

"I got it the first time. I said, is that all?"

"B-Jay-!"

"Jim, we've had to deal with this before. In fact, it crops up so often, I'm surprised you didn't know. I thought you did. You should have recognized it in the way he treats Alec."

"Well, I didn't. And this is no time to hash it over. What I need to know is what to do?"

"Get back in bed. Tell him you love him."

"I tried that. It didn't work."

"I said, tell him you love him. Tell it to him in a way he'll understand. "

"Betty-John-"

Her voice rose sharply. "I'll tell it to you in words you'll understand. Most of these kids we're getting have been found in small towns, or other situations where there hasn't been a lot of organization, not a lot of social structure. They've survived not by any inherent survival skills-these aren't feral children, they're socielized just enough to be very very vulnerable. These are the kind of children who are the first to die in a population crash, and the ones we're getting are the ones who've learned that their survival depends upon the good graces of other human beings. Sometimes there's a price on those good graces. I'm sorry to shock you, Jim, I thought you knew.

"A lot of these kids have survived only by whoring. It's part of the rules of the game as far as they're concerned. You can't change the rules on them overnight, because they won't understand what you're trying to do. It cost them too much to learn the rules this way. When you pushed that kid away, you were telling him that he's unlovable."

"That's not true-"

"But that's what he thought, because he doesn't know how to think anything else. Jim, think of this. We're seeing the best of the kids who've survived. What do you think happened to the unattractive ones, the ones who weren't cute enough to whore?" I didn't answer.

Betty-John said it straight out, "Jim, you just told Tommy that he's got to die because you're not going to take care of him."

"But he should know better than that," I protested.

"Should he? He's had three years to learn it the other way. Can you erase that in six weeks?"

"I-I guess not. But I thought. . ."

"You adopted those kids for better or worse. Well, this is part of the worse. He's trying to pay you in the only coin he has. You've got to do one of two things. Either accept this payment, or teach him that there are other ways to pay back the debt. If you can't do the second tonight, and I don't think you can, you'll have to do the first. And spare me the arguments about morality or humanity. Not at this hour-they can all be shot down by the first thing anyone here at Family has to learn. We have to deal with the kids on their terms if we're going to reach them." She stopped for a moment. "Perhaps I owe you an apology for not warning you in advance, but I thought you had the situation under control."

"You knew?"

"Since day one. Birdie had to treat Tommy for the clap. Alec too."

"Alec-?"

"Alec caught it from Tommy. Holly was okay. Whatever kind of freako they were with, he didn't touch her."

I sat down on an icy hassock. "I-I don't know what to do. Or say. Maybe we'd better call this whole thing off."

"Over your dead, still warm and quivering body, you will. I told you there was no backing out."

"I don't want to back out-but damn it, I can't handle this!"

"Yes, you can. I've read your chart. Your sexual identity is skewed all over the map. Your latency threshold is so low-well, never mind. At least you have a sexual identity; that's better than nwst people these days."

"Betty-John," I lowered my voice. I was pleading. "You don't know what I've been through-"

"You're right. I don't know-and I don't care. I only care about the children. Jim, quit wasting my time. I know what's going on with you. You want to do the right thing. Everybody does. Your problem is that you're always worried about what other people will think. Jeezis! You can't possibly realize how annoying that is. Of all your terrible bad habits, that's got to be the worst."

"I'm sorry- "

"And that's the other one. Listen to me, I know you can handle this or I would never have signed your papers. The important thing is that Tommy gets enough loving and nurturing and caring so that he has the raw material out of which to build a real human being. And I don't really care what flavor that nurturing comes in any more, as long as Tommy learns how to be a person in his own right. At least that way he'll still be a whole lot better off than all those walking wounded who are going to have to be taken care of all their lives. You know what to do, so get off your goddamn ass, go in there and parent."

"B-Jay, I hear what you're saying, but I don't know where to begin. I don't know how . . ."

"Yes, you do. I've watched you with the kids, Jim. You treat them like little human beings. Why do you think they love you so much? You're already doing the one thing they need the most. So, forget all this grown-up versus child bullshit; that's one of the ways we alienate ourselves from our own species. Stop thinking of them as property, or even as a great responsibility. Just treat them with the same respect that you would any other person-like you do anyway-and you'll do fine, because that's the only thing they really need from you.

"Go in there and talk to him," she said. "Just talk to him-or better yet, let him talk to you. Let him tell you what he wants and needs. You'll see for yourself what's appropriate. It'll be obvious. Start by admitting that you need someone to hug too and it'll be a lot easier."

She hung up. I know it's impossible to click off an electronic phone angrily, but her closing chime still sounded harsh.

I went back into the bedroom. Tommy was gone.

He wasn't in his bed either, nor in Alec and Holly's. They were curled up together around a freshly stuffed and cleaned (but still amputated) bear.

He wasn't anywhere in the apartment.

I thought of running back to the phone, calling B-Jay again-no, there wasn't time. Besides, I might still be able to catch him. I grabbed a robe and went barefoot out into the night.

I didn't have to look very far. The moon was almost full and he was sitting on the patio, his arms around his knees, his thin nightshirt almost transparent in the glow. He was crying quietly. I sat down next to him.

"Tommy," I said. "What are you doing?"

"Nothin'." Then, "I'm trying to decide where to go."

"Go?"

"Can't stay here any more."

"What about Alec and Holly?"

"They're yours now."

"They belong to you too."

"Not any more. You 'dopted them."

"Don't you think they care about you too?"

"It doesn't matter. I guess I'm too old now. Like Mikey."

"Who's Mikey?"

"My brother. My real brother. He was . . ." He frowned, trying to remember. "He was older than me, but I don't remember by how much. But when he got too old, Foster didn't love him any more, so he had to go away."

"Who was Foster?"

"Our last Daddy."

"Did he love you?" Tommy nodded.

My throat was dry. "How did he love you?"

"He let us sleep with him, and things . . ." Tommy looked up. "He was really okay, even if sometimes we didn't like what he did. He made us wash regular. And he never let us go hungry."

"What happened to him?"

"He died. I guess. One day he didn't come back. A few days later, the other people found us and sent us here."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I did. I mean, I thought you knew. We told the ladies at-at wherever it was, and they said they'd tell you."

"Do you want to come back inside?"

"No."

"Why not?"

" 'Cause."

I sat down next to him and put my arm around his thin shoulders. He stiffened.

I said, "Tommy, I'm sorry. I didn't know you needed me to love you that way. Where I grew up, I was taught that was wrong-that men don't do things like that with other men."

"Foster said they do." His voice was high and innocent. "He said it was noble and-and platonic, and a lot of other things." Without ever having met him, I could have cheerfully killed the man. Consenting adults is one thing; impressionable children. . . .

"Well," I answered slowly. "I guess some places they do and some places they don't."

"What kind of place is this?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but something stopped me. A distant sound perhaps. A feeling. I said, instead, "What kind of a place do you want it to be?"

He thought about it for a moment. I found myself listening for that sound again, something very faint and far away. Finally, he said, "Sometimes, it was nice. Foster said he loved me. He said he loved me better than anybody. I liked that. He said I was his pretty little boy, and he always brought me toys and things and lotsa times, pretty clothes to wear. Those were nice times. He liked me to be pretty for him, and I wanted to make him happy, 'cause that's when he made me happy."

I didn't say anything to that. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't even sure what I felt any more. Revulsion-not at Tommy, but at the man who'd used him-sorrow, pity, anger, empathy; yes, a lot of empathy. All Tommy wanted to do was please the people around him. I could certainly understand that.

"You don't love me any more, do you?" Tommy asked.

I put my arm around his shoulder and pulled him close to me. "Actually," I said, "I love you a whole lot more now, because you've been so honest with me. Now, I understand a lot that I didn't understand before. I'm glad you told me."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Mm."

We sat in silence for a moment.

After a bit, Tommy said, "I want this to be a place where I can be loved."

So. That was the answer.

"All right," I said. "I guess we both have to do some growing up. You're going to have to help me too." I pulled him closer, he didn't resist. "Do you want to sleep next to me tonight?"

"If you want me to." He said it indifferently.

"No," I said. "Only if that's what you want. Let me tell you the rules about sex. They're very simple. Sex is about having fun with someone you like. You don't do it with people you don't like. You don't ever do it with anyone unless you both want to. That's the most important thing. If you don't want to do it, you can say no."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh, okay," he said.

He had accepted the information; but whether or not he'd really gotten it-well, it was a start anyway.

"Yes," he said, suddenly.

"Yes, what?" I wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"I want to sleep with you tonight."

Maybe he just needed the reassurance, I told myself, because it was the only reassurance that he could understand; and maybe he did understand and maybe he really wanted to sleep with me. And maybe . . . I could make up reasons all night long. It was time to stop listening to all the little conversations about what I should w shouldn't do.

"All right." I picked him up-he wasn't too big for that yet. And I hugged him and I said, "I love you, very, very much, Tommy. And it's all right for you to love me any way you want. Just remember that you don't have to do anything that you don't want to, except wash regular. Understand?"

He looked me straight in the eye; his cheeks were wet with tears. "I want to. I want to make you happy. Okay?"

"I'm happy already."

"I want to make you happier."

This was an argument I couldn't win. "Okay," I said, and let the subject drop.

"Can we go back to bed now?"

"Sure." I thought about everything I'd said and wondered if I'd Ieft anything out. I said, "Tonight I just want to hug you a lot, and we don't have to do the other thing, is that all right?"

Goddamn that Foster. Tommy looked disappointed. But he nodded.

I started to get up, still carrying him, but that was awkward, so I let him walk. He put his ann around my waist and I put mine around his shoulders, feeling very strange and uneasy, and a lot less sure of myself. I felt as if I'd stepped into some strange new territory, and all my maps were wrong.

At the door, I stopped. There was that sound again. And this time, I recognized it.

Chtorrans. Hunting.

I fingered my worm charm in response. I stopped long enough to check all the doors and windows-as if that would make a difference-and then we went to bed.

I held him close because that was what he wanted and after a while it was what I wanted too. And everything I'd said to Tommy was just as true for me too. I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to.

The hell with everybody else. They weren't in this bed.

I was lonely and scared and I wanted to be loved too. I wanted to.

And so did Tommy. But I couldn't let myself, not because it was wrong, I didn't know what was right or wrong any more, but because I didn't want to be like Foster. So we didn't.

In the morning, I found Tommy in bed with Alec again, and Holly had moved to the other room. Over breakfast, she said it was because she wanted to sleep. I didn't pursue the matter. The ice was thin enough already.