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The Light

By and © Joe Writer Man

Chapter 5

Dad walked into the kitchen and looked at the computer monitor on the bar. Peter and I went too.

"Oh fuckkkkkk. She's pissed." Peter whispered in my ear the very second he saw his mother's face showing on the screen.

Dad heard it. He looked at Peter with disdain but then his demeanor quickly softened...

"How did she know I was here?"

"Your bike on the sidewalk is the first clue, Peter. Shit."

"Oh fuck. I gotta go dude. I'm in deep, deep, deep shit."

"I'll answer the door boys. You stay here. Both of you."

"Wait dad, please. Peter?" I said.

"I gotta go with her."

"Dad, Peter has something he needs to show you. Please, before you open the door."

"What? Hurry up, son. Making someone wait at the door for no reason is rude."

"Peter." I said looking into his eyes, into his soul. "It's now or never. Please."

"I'm scared, sir. Nobody knows about this. I WILL BE killed if this goes anywhere. Please don't say anything. Please." Peter said with moist eyes, one tear falling down his cheek.

"Son, let's just see what you have to show me. We'll go from there, okay?" Dad said softly.

Peter slowly raised his shirt up exposing the bruises, abrasions and cuts on his chest and torso. Turning Peter around, dad's eyes became narrow like slits in a door when he saw the bruises and abrasions.

Peter was so upset that he began trembling after dad lowered his shirt and got down on his knees to see his legs. Dad took a deep breath when he saw all the bruises, abrasions and a couple of superficial cuts on his knees.

Dad stood back up, looked at Peter and began to say something however I interrupted him, "He has an injury even worse that what you saw."

Peter trembled, his voice was shaky "David, please no, not that."

"Peter, have you been hurt down there. Yes or no."

"Yes sir."

"Son, I have to ask this. Please just answer me yes or no."

Peter looked up at me and then to dad, and then nodded.

"Were you raped?"

Peter looked to the floor, found a place to fix his eyes on and then shrugged his shoulders, "Uhm, not really, I guess."

I put my hand on his shoulder. Peter looked at me with sadness in his eyes. I said "You need to show dad your privates. I'm more worried about them. He's gotta see them."


I jumped. Peter jumped. Dad looked into Peter's eyes, "It's now or never, Peter. It's your decision. I will tell you that I'm very concerned with what I have seen so far. Would you prefer to show me in the bathroom where you have more privacy?"


Peter jumped big time. His eyes flew open, "Please don't hurt me."

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. <Angry beating on the door>

"Do it, Peter. Do it now." I said deliberately.



That said, Peter raised his shirt up with one hand while his other one grasped the waistband of his underwear and then pulled down them down to his knees. His testicles were even bigger than when he showed them to me earlier.

Dad's worry lines returned. I had not seen them since mom got sick.

"How did that happen, son?"

"Uhm, I told David I'm a klutz. He didn't believe me. I fell down the stairs last night ..." Peter said trailing off and looked to a place on the floor he picked out.

"Son, those are not injuries consistent with falling down the stairs. Tell me the truth because I need to answer the door. Don't ever lie to me."

KNOCK. KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Angry. Angry. Angry. Angry. Angry.

"Peter, did your mother do this to you?" I asked softly.

"No, mom didn't do this." Peter said pointing to his grotesquely swollen testicles and then added "They both beat me up and Harlan, well he..."

KNOCK. KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Angry. Angry. Angry. Angry. Angry.

"Turn around so I can see your back again. I just want to have all the facts before I act."

Slowly, Peter turned around and showed me and dad the bruises and abrasions on his lower back and buttocks.

KNOCK. KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Angry. Angry. Angry. Angry. Angry.

Dad, startled, raised Peter's underwear to their normal position then said gravely, "Okay boys. Go upstairs to your room, close and lock the door and do not open it and do not come out until I call your cell phone."

Dad kissed me on the forehead, lightly patted Peter on his back and then said softly "Go, I'll be up in a few minutes. Peter, go with David. You are in no trouble here. I'm going to help you in any way I can. If you do what I told you to do then you are safe, okay?"

Peter nodded to dad, looked at me, back to dad then nodded again. I took Peter's hand and together we went upstairs. When we passed the bathroom, Peter turned in and ran to the toilet where he yanked his underwear down, sat down on the toilet where he got sick. I followed him in, closed and locked the door and waited for him to finish.

As he was washing his hands, I drained my can and washed up. I opened the door a crack, peered down the hallway, found the coast clear and then grabbed hold of Peter's hand and led him to my room where we closed and locked the door, and sighed a breath of relief after sitting on the side of my bed.

Peter looked none too well. He was pale, shaking and beads of sweat across his eyebrows. I laid him down on my bed, put a pillow under his head and then joined him.


Dad's POV

Before opening the door, I clicked the security system cameras and audio to the 'on' position. Once the green light appeared, I unlocked and opened the door. A very angry Tanya Jamison, and a much angrier Harlan greeted me.

"Hello, may I help you?"

"Is my boy here?" Tanya asked angrily.

"Yes, he's here. He is upstairs with my son."

"Tell him to get his scrawny fuckin ass home. The faggot ain't got no friends." She said spraying spittle out her mouth. Luckily it missed me.

"Then you must have the wrong house. We have no children here meeting your description."

Pointing to the bicycle lying close to the front door, she added "That's his fuckin bicycle so don't fucking lie to me!"

"I will go upstairs and tell him that you want him home. Is that sufficient?"

"You tell him to get his faggot ass home because he is in deep shit. The little fuck is irresponsible. One day he will learn to obey me. It is my responsibility as his ole lady to teach him to be fuckin responsible and accountable." She hissed.

"Mrs. Jamison, would your son be safe at home with you?"

"Damn right he is safe, once he gets his licking for disobeying me that is. He will be plenty safe in his room for however long he is grounded. Besides my punishment is none of your fucking business. Just tell him to get his sorry ass home." She spat.

"Mrs. Jamison, I will apprise him of your wishes, and that he is in deep shit with you, and that he is to be home right away. Good day."

That said, not waiting for any kind of reply, I closed the door in her face, reset the alarm system and stood there for a moment while I gathered my wits about me.

After calming down, I pulled my phone off its holder on my belt, speed dialed 1. When Fugi answered, I transmitted the record of our 'conversation' to him for safe keeping. I then put the alarm system on 'high alert' status.

When I went to the kitchen, I looked at the monitor and found that Tanya and Harlan were still standing on the sidewalk. Harlan picked Peter's bicycle up and slammed it to the ground several times, and then he, with his full body weight, jumped on it. I then belly laughed when he fell back on his fat ass. They then left with Harlan carrying the remains of what was once a decent mode of conveyance for a teen age boy.


Back to the story

"Peter, It's going to be okay. Just trust me and dad, okay?" I said with conviction looking deeply into Peter's deep brown eyes then kissed him softly.

My cell phone rang effectively interrupting our kiss.


"I'm coming up. Alone. They left. We are all safe and secure here." Dad said.

"Okay." I replied.

I got up on my crutches, went to the door, unlocked and opened it. Dad was there waiting. When he arrived, his arms went around me and then, together, we walked to Peter. Dad sat down on one side of him while I sat down on the other.


"Yes sir." Peter replied meekly.

"Son, I'm not sure what is going on here, but your mom is, uhm, highly upset that you are not home. Can you explain this to me, why she would be so angry?"

"Uhm, I was grounded. I came over here anyway. I thought I would be back before she got home. I messed up again." Peter whimpered.

"Son, did you really fall down the stairs?" Dad said very gently as he reached over and lifted Peter's chin so that their eyes met.

"No, sir. But I was bad, sir. I disobeyed her. I raised my hands at her." Peter said.

"Were you going to strike her, or were you protecting your face and your body?" Dad asked.

"I guess I was trying to cover myself up? I wanted to hit her, but only to make her stop. I screwed up."

"I'd be angry too. Did you strike her?"

"Oh no sir, no way, not ever, I never would do that."

"You have a right to defend yourself. Peter, I'm going to help you, if you will accept it."

"What, how? You saw her."

"Yes I did. I know beyond any shadow of a doubt that you would not be safe there. The first thing we need to do is to get you to the hospital. You have serious injuries..."

"No, no hospitals. She'll kill me ... I mean we don't have the money sir." Peter pleaded.

"Money is of no concern Peter. You need medical care, and you will receive it. I'm afraid you have no choice. Your injuries, particularly those to your privates, are serious; they need and will receive medical attention." Dad paused after Peter nodded and then added "Just for the record, what did you do that was so wrong, son?"

"Uhm, I guess the same thing, sir." Peter said, looking away from dad.

"You mean raising your hands to protect yourself?" Dad asked.

"Uhm, yes sir, that and for, uhm, I mean, well she caught me, uhm, m..m..mmm...ah, I mean ... you know ... well, uhm I was rubbing myself, down there I mean. She, uhm, caught me."

"Nutten wrong with it, is there dad?" I asked looking from Peter to Dad.

"No. Not in our home anyway although there are some religions that do say it's wrong; they feel it is sinful; some of the more pronounced whackos think and believe masturbation is the gate to Satan."

"I do it too Peter. Dad explained it all to me a few months ago. If us guys don't release the hormones then they'll empty out in our beds. I don't know about you, but I don't like to have to get up during the night and change my sheets..."

"That's right, David. The only thing that can be wrong about it is when it is done to us, or if we do it to someone else without permission. No means no."

"Well, okay, uhm, yeah, she caught me. She said only spawns of Satan do those depraved and wicked things, and that I would burn in hell for all of eternity." Peter said with certainty.

"Well, son, I do not agree with that, but each parent has the right to instill their beliefs into their children. But ... the injuries that you have, the injuries that your mother gave you are not appropriate to the situation. NOTHING, absolutely nothing deserves this kind of punishment. Parents are to teach and not hurt their children like you were by her." Dad said.

"Can I see your butt closer up?" Dad asked softly.

"Uhm, I guess." Peter answered then pulled his shirt up then rolled over without much hesitation after receiving a reassuring look from dad.

Dad leaned over Peter, spread his cheeks open then asked "Peter, did your mom do anything here?"

"Uhm, no sir." Peter responded.

"Did Harlan hurt you here? It looks pretty red. I'm just wondering if anybody hurt you here." Dad said softly.

"I wouldn't let him but he kinda sorta forced me..."

"He tried to rape you?" Dad asked Peter.


"Has he ever hurt you there before?"


"Did your mom know about it?"

"She came into the room and tossed him another beer saying 'you are going to need this motherfucker'."

"I have one more injury I want you to see." Peter said as he turned over onto his back. He reached down and gently shifted his penis up to where it was lying on his pubes. His dick was badly bruised on the underneath side.

"How did that happen, I mean what did they do to you?" I asked somberly.

"Harlan kicked me after he, uhm..."

Dad's eyes grew as big as saucers, "Nobody kicks another person, especially a child who resists inappropriate behavior from an adult. Okay, here's the game plan..."

Before Dad could say anything further, Peter sat up and then tentatively pulled dad into a hug, a hug that dad readily accepted and returned in kind. I joined them and then kissed Peter on his lips, quick, deliberate, and with a quiet passion.

Dad looked at me but didn't say anything. He had more of a questioning look on his face rather than anything else. I shrugged not knowing what else to do. That was not the time to tell dad that I was coming to love this boy in his arms. Was I gay? I didn't know. If I were, would it have been bad? No I don't think dad or Jeremy would mind.

Dad interrupted my train of thought, "Okay son, thank you, I know it was hard to tell me what you have told me, and to let a stranger see your privates, but, on all accounts you did the right thing."

"I want you to get dressed. David will help you if you need or want it. I'm going to make some phone calls so that we can get you safe and treated by the hospital. Peter, I have to get law enforcement involved; the hospital will require police involvement. What has happened to you is just wrong. So get dressed. David, I'll meet you guys downstairs."

"The pork chops! Oh no!"

Just then the fire alarm in the kitchen went off. Dad tore out of my room and ran down the hallway and disappeared down the stairs.

Peter began sobbing, "I'm sorry David. I'll work chores to pay for the damages. God, when is this going to end?"

I pulled Peter in a hug then quickly said "We need to get dressed, and now!"

Hurriedly, we got dressed. I gave Pete a pair of snugger underwear and a pair of running shorts. We took off to go downstairs but dad stopped us on the landing, "Well, dinner, other arrangements will be made." It was then that we smelled the burned remnants of dinner.

"I'm sorry sir. I caused this to happen. I'll work to pay the damages sir."

"That's not necessary. It just happened. Nobody is in trouble. And, oh by the way, call me Jim. My name is Jim to you, not sir. Being called sir makes me feel old, and I do not like to think of myself as old. I'm 38 and still have a long ways to go." Dad said amusedly and then in another breath added, "You guys, David, please clean the kitchen while I make those phone calls, they won't take long."

"No problem dad. Peter you can sit and watch, ha, you can supervise me." I chuckled.

"Okay, see you guys in a few. Dad said and then walked on down the stairs and turned in the direction of his office.

"Your dad's real nice David. I believe him too. But I am so sorry I am causing so much trouble for you guys, I'm not really worth it you know. I really am a klutz." Peter said sadly.

"Peter, please don't say those things. They are not true. Okay? To me, you are one super beautiful person."

"I bring nothing but trouble to people."

"Nah. You are good people, dude. Just you wait and see, you will see it too real soon." I said.

"MOVE, DAVID. I'm gonna get ...." Peter said as he ran back up the stairs, turned into the bathroom then proceeded to wretch into the toilet.

I followed him in, wet a clean washcloth, waited for him to finish and then when he was done I wiped his face and mouth for him. Then he got sick the other way, not quite getting his pants down and making the seat in time.

I quickly got towels, wet them and cleaned up around him while he continued to be sick. While he was sitting there between bouts, I got his clothes off him and sat them on the granite floor away from us.

When he nodded that he was finished, we got him into the shower where he sat down while I turned the water on and got it to temperature. He was shaking from his exertions so I quickly took my clothes off and joined him where I washed him from head to toes. We dried off and then went to my room where I picked out clean clothes for him to wear. I went to the bathroom, got redressed and joined him in my room. Together we went downstairs to face what we needed to face.

As we made our way downstairs, I swore to myself that Peter would never again be alone in this world. I had no idea what I meant by those thoughts, only that they were there and I was growing up to be a man like my dad was - good to his word, kind and giving.

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