This is a mobile proxy. It is intended to visit the IOMfAtS Story Shelf on devices that would otherwise not correctly display the site. Please direct all your feedback to the friendly guy over at IOMfAtS!

The Light

By and © Joe Writer Man

Chapter 23

Back to the story (David's POV)

While dad and I were hugging, I whispered into his ear, "What's going on? What's wrong?"

"I don't know. You guys be good." Dad replied then released me from his hug then took off out the kitchen door to the garage.

Angel was looking at me from the cab of the Escalade... I couldn't read his facial expressions. When dad entered the vehicle, Angel looked down into his lap. Then they were off to take care of business in the city. When the garage door went down, I reset the alarm system with the terminal on the bar.

Peter whispered, "What's dad pissed off about?"

"I don't know for sure... he wouldn't tell me, but I think it's about some money he can't account for."

"Oh, okay. I didn't even know we had that... do you think?"

"I don't know what to think..."

"Yeah, you aren't thinking straight right at this moment, are you?" Peter asked with an ornery grin plastered across his face. He then wrapped his fingers around my soft dick and began kneading it like a loaf of bread... soon it began its ascent... I got this funny feeling in the pit of my stomach, my legs got tighter, I took a deep breath of air.

Then, just like that, Peter let go of that distended organ which makes me of the male gender then headed for the stairs and then turned around, looked at me then reached down and squeezed his own organ of flesh making him male. He then blew me a kiss and went on up the stairs and out of sight.

Needing no further encouragement or invitation, I made my way upstairs as quickly as I could. The bathroom door was closed. I went to our room... he wasn't there... so I went back to the bathroom, opened the door and then was greeted by the guy I love standing there wearing nothing but a mischevious smile. He motioned for me to sit on the closed toilet lid.

Without a missed beat, I did as I was told. When I was sat down, Peter closed and locked the door then quickly walked over, knelt down in front of me, spread my legs wide apart. He put his nose deeply into my pubes then inhaled deeply savoring every aroma. He made a really big deal out of making sure his nose touched my very erect pubescent wand. About every third or fourth nasal attack, he'd swipe his tongue across my cockhead to suck in those little drips of clear fluid escaping the little hole located at the end. When I thought he was going to engulf my joystick, I pushed out but he instead went to my left nut and sucked it in like a plum where he rolled it around and around in his mouth. This was driving me absolutely batshit crazy but he pushed on. When my left nut was thoroughly paid attention to, he then went to my right nut after taking a quick swipe on my cockhead and then went to my right nut where he performed the same ministrations.

I squealed loudly after he wrapped my hips in his arms and pushed his finger into my butthole. At the same time, he jumped on my dick with full force and effect. He took me in clear to the root and began bobbing up and down like crazy. I did not last long. It was more than I could take. My body tensed up, my hips slammed forward, seemingly of their own volition, deep down his gullet where I unloaded a massive gift of my nectar protein concoction. At the point where I seemingly lost consciousness, I had counted 5 spasms, though there could have been more.

When I recovered some semblance of reality, I pushed him away, stood up then kissed him passionately. I was greeted not only by his tongue but a strong taste of not yet swallowed male ejaculate.

I opened my eyes long enough to see that he was hurting... his face was scrunched up, he had worry lines in the corners of his eyes, and he was hunched over. I knew what he needed, and I damn sure was going to take care of his 'little' problem for him.

"Shower." I said huskily reaching for a crutch. He got in and turned the water on. Meanwhile, I reached up in the medicine cabinet, retrieved the jar of body lotion then scooped out a large dollop, applied it to my nether regions then negotiated my way into the shower. Peter closed the door. Without missing a beat, I got Peter to sit down on the shower seat then I finagled my way onto his lap, aimed his cock to the place where I wanted him to be then sat down on his prong. Without much effort, I wiggled around, Peter urgently wiggled around until his steel rod found its place deep in my anal orifice. He grabbed my hips, pulled me down, and then began wildly pounding away on his trip to Nirvana.

Then it happened. He arrived. Out of control. He wildly pounded his rock hard maleness into my desiring soft place. As he pounded, I tightened up as hard as I possibly could. He screamed out his delights, jammed his rod in as far as it would or could possibly go.

When his jackhammer ceased, it happened all of a sudden. He just stopped. He returned to earth with a huge whoosh of air escaping from his lungs. The only intelligent words that emanated from his voice box were, "Holy shit. Oh my God!"

After taking our shower and drying off, we went downstairs where Allen and Jeremy were sitting at the bar watching some TV show. Jeremy quickly turned the TV off after we arrived and sat down. He looked at us then clucked his tongue. Allen was no help whatsoever. He had a snide remark just waiting to make its debut known... but he didn't say anything.

Innocently, Peter asked, "What?"

Jeremy, with utmost stoicism said, "Did you guys see a pussy cat upstairs?"

Peter got this most serious look on his face... he was trying to figure out what Jeremy meant by that quaint comment. Jeremy looked at then crossed his eyes. He was trying to stifle cracking up hysterically.

Not to help matters, Allen said, "We thought you guys went to take a shower then we heard this horrific screaming like a pussy cat..."

Jeremy deadpanned, "I had to tell him that no pussy lives here in this house..."

The look on Peter's face was priceless... I got it but he hadn't yet.

Allen snickered. Jeremy snorted. I said, "Peter... they got us. Screaming. Pussy. You know, upstairs? Bathroom."

Peter said with exasperation, "Ah shit." He got all red-faced, put his head down, yet he had a wry grin on his face... he was thoroughly embarrassed.

Jeremy lost all composure. He was laughing so hard that he fell off the bar stool, landing on his bare ass. His cock also grew with the levity until it was standing straight up and out. He looked down at his cock between fits of laughter, grabbed it with his hand then began stroking it wildly, purposefully.

"Damn dude, you must be horny as hell, you haven't jacked off at the bar in at least a year." I laughed.

Allen got up, joined us watching Jeremy near his orgasmic pinnacle. Quickly he sat on a barstool, threw his legs up on the bar then began jacking his rod with earnest. Jeremy blew his load first sending rope after rope of white hot teen cum all over his chest and six-pack then ended his ecstatic moment by drooling only a few remaining drops of his nectar from his rapidly wilting cock. Simultaneously, Allen blasted away several thin strings of boy cum into his cupped hand with his chest heaving as if he were having difficulty breathing. His breathing recovered once he returned from Nirvana.

What the hell. Peter and I were both at full staff again after having watched two major loads of boy cum let loose in front of our eyes.

I smiled at Peter. Peter smiled at me. Independently yet together we began pummeling our cocks and soon unloaded what little bit of remaining cum from our hot and horny teenaged bodies. Panting, we grinned at each other and said "Whow dude! That's the second time in less than 45 minutes. That has to be a record."

"Hey, it is like old times." Jeremy said.

"Yeah. I miss Angel though... he should have been here. What's up, Allen, do you know?" I asked sincerely.

"I don't know for sure. I mean he got that shoplifting thing several months ago then did not appear for his hearing which I did not know about. His folks were supposed to have taken care of it. I mean they were going to take him to court for the hearing but he would have to pay the fine out of his own pocket. He's been different ever since then. It's kind of like he's hiding something. I can't explain it really." Allen said sadly.

"He's probably stressing about it so maybe he shut down to cope with it." Peter said as he caringly and brotherly patted Allen on the shoulder.

"Straight up?" Jeremy asked Allen.

"Always straight up, Jeremy." Allen replied.

"Do you think Angel took the money?" Jeremy asked.

"I don't know. He could have. I mean it's possible. Maybe it is even probable." Allen replied quietly.

"Is everything else okay? Is your relationship okay?" I asked.

"What do you mean, David?" Allen asked.

"You are sounding like dad now. You know how he is about answering a question with a question." I smirked.

"Fuck you." Allen replied with a sly grin.

"It would be the best you ever had." I replied with a giggle.

"Nah, Angel's all mine." Allen said sadly, then he grinned one of those fake ones.

"You okay, Allen?" Jeremy asked.

Allen shook his head then bowed his head as he started crying.

"What's up dude?" I asked softly then pulled him into a deep hug.

"I don't know. He pushes me away when I feel that we are in 'the mood'." Allen cried. "We just aren't close very often anymore. When we do have sex, it'd good but it's not spectacular like it used to be."

"Sounds like an old married couple." Jeremy quipped.

"We're 14 for Christ sakes." Allen snapped.

"That's a bad statement, sorry bro." Jeremy said pulling Allen into a hug after I let go.

"Is there someone else in the picture?" I asked quietly.

"No, it is nothing like that." Allen said assuredly.

"Has he seen a doctor? I mean sex is awesome and normal for our age." I asked.

"I read in a journal a while back that diabetes affects a person's sex life and their attitude too." Jeremy added.

"Maybe you're right. I don't know. Are there other symptoms?" Allen asked.

"Here we can look it up on the internet." Jeremy said as he turned to the computer terminal sitting on the breakfast bar.

"What's that MD site?" Jeremy asked.

"I think it is WEBMD.COM." I replied.

"That's it. D I A B E T E S." Jeremy typed in on the terminal.

"Extreme thirst, attitude changes, sweating, shaky, dizziness, decreased libido, erectile dysfunctions." Allen read.

"He's always thirsty, and yeah, he sweats a lot, and he gets shaky, and he gets real bitchy before we eat but it gets better after he gets something on his stomach." Allen said.

"Does he pop wood okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, he always wakes up horny. Man this is embarrassing." Allen said.

"That's a good sign. Not having a morning woody is just a crime." I laughed.

Allen grinned then said "For sure. The thing is that when he gets it in there <major blush>, it goes down before he can shoot."

"Sure sounds like he needs to see our doctor. Dr. Miller is a good with us and being gay is perfectly okay. He has a gay son and loves him and his partner to pieces." I added factually.

"We can talk to him, tell him what we found out, and then leave the decision to him... let going to the doctor be his idea?"

"That'll probably work. He's really very sensitive about it but he doesn't talk about it much." Allen said knowingly.

That said, we decided on having salmon steaks cooked on the grill so we began dinner preparations.


Dad's POV

Angel was very quiet. He was looking down in his lap. Every once in a while he'd look up... our eyes would meet then he'd look away or down.

"Are you okay, Angel? I know this is all of a sudden but it has to be taken care of sooner than later. If you were arrested then things could get really complicated."

He looked up then held our gaze. Something wasn't right but neither he nor I could put our fingers on what wasn't right.

About a block from a convenience store, he looked up and said, "Jim, I don't feel so good. Can we stop and get a can of pop? I'm really thirsty."

Without answering, I turned off the Nimitz into a fast food joint. I drove to the drive-up window, ordered him a Coke and me a cup of coffee. It was delivered fast and friendly. I handed our drinks to Angel so I could pay. He took his cup, popped the lid off then guzzled as if there were no tomorrow.

As I drove out of the drive-thru drive, I asked, "Better?"

He let out a very well honed in belch then he said, "Sorry. I guess I drank it too fast. But yeah, I think I'm feeling better. Thanks."

The rest of the trip downtown was uneventful. We parked in the lot then made our way into the courthouse where we located Richard fairly quickly. He then led us to the juvenile booking desk after assuring us that the process would be quick and fairly painless.

As we walked up to the booking desk, the juvenile officer, a very large man who looked like his uniform was perhaps two sizes two small looked over this thick coke-bottle glasses and asked what our business was.

Richard identified himself and us to the officer. He then provided Angel's full name, date of birth and social security number, and that we were there to resolve warrants.

The officer began typing in information, which he asked Richard to repeat three or four times. Once Angel was entered into the system, the officer told us to be seated, that a juvenile officer would be up shortly to process Angel for theft and failure to appear.

We waited about 30 minutes or so when Angel asked to go to the bathroom. Having seen a restroom on our way to the booking area, we walked back to it where Angel went in and promptly got sick to his stomach. After a couple of retching bouts he came out of the stall. He was as white as a sheet, and shaky, and somewhat unsteady on his feet. I attributed it to his vomiting.

I some wet paper towels then wiped sweaty face and neck. "I'm sorry, Jim. I'm just being a pain in the butt. I appreciate what you're doing for me though." Angel said quietly.

By the time we returned to our seats, Angel's color had largely returned. As soon as we sat down, he leaned into me then promptly fell asleep. He was sitting most unnaturally so I woke him up just enough to pull him into my side.

About 15 minutes later, he awoke thirsty. We took off down the hall where he got a huge drink from the drinking fountain. That seemed to satiate him so we returned to our seats where he fell asleep.

Thirty minutes later, I went to the desk and inquired from the officer how much longer he thought it might be before Angel's name was called. His reply was quick and to the point - he said we would be taken in as soon as an officer became free.

Richard leaned into me and said "Don't piss these guys off. You never know when you'll need one of them on our side."

About 20 minutes later, an officer came out and yelled Angel's name. He jumped out of his skin. Richard and I stood up with him. Together we walked over to the officer and identified ourselves.

Richard said, "Just follow directions. Carry a good attitude and be cooperative. They're really our friends so long as we're on the good side of the law."

"Okay. I'll try." Angel said as I released him from a hug. It was hard to watch him walk away.

Richard said, "We might as well sit down. This may take a while."


Angel's POV

I was scared. All sorts of bad things came to my mind... I'd heard of kids going to juvie for various reasons, how they were raped, how they were taken in as part of the food chain so to speak, the cold and unforgiving jailers and other staff and offenders...

Clank, clank went the great steel barred 'doors' leading from one section to another. Each clank startled me... they brought me back to reality, somewhat.

While passing through a number of steel barred doors which scared me as they clanked open and shut. They were loud and unforgiving, it seemed. They were in fact unforgiving... my mind said so, my eyes saw it, my body felt it, my psyche was drowning.

"Move inmate." The jailer said as I had unconsciously slowed down considerably... I felt like I was being led to the gallows.

My stomach churned, my head whirled with those thoughts but nevertheless I stepped up my pace to keep up with him all the while remembering dads' lawyers' words.

Soon we reached a brightly lit room. As we entered, I noticed it had a few chairs, several granite appearing tables, two open air showers, a sink with multiple bottles of this and that (I could not read their labels) sitting on the shelves atop the ledges over the sinks.... what really got to me was the smell of disinfectant. Two open air toilets were off in a corner opposite the door we entered through.

"Mainero, get your head out of your ass. Move it. Follow me."

"Yes sir. Sorry."

He led me to the nearest sink, just inside the door from the outside, from the corridor we had just walked through, the one with the clinking and clanking doors shattering the otherwise quietness.

When we arrived, he said, "Strip. Put your clothes in the tray. I will search them for contraband."

Reluctantly, I removed my shoes and socks, followed by my shirt. When I began neatly folding my shirt, the jailer snatched it from my hands then tossed it in the basket helter skelter.

Hesitantly, I reached for the steel button at the top front of my jeans then hesitated. The jailer said, "Everything, just do it Mainero. The sooner you comply the sooner I can get on with what I need to be doing."

I eeked out, "Uhm, sir, I mean, well, my underwear, sir... they, well they, err, well they aren't, I mean they aren't covering very much."

"I really don't give a fuck inmate. Get your fucking clothes off... the longer you dilly dally fuck around the longer this whole thing is going to take. Do it for fucks sake!" The jailer said angrily.

Without saying a word, I unclasped the button, unzipped then in one feld swoop dropped my jeans to my feet then picked them up and tossed them into the basket.

I hadn't realized just how cold that room was. I began shivering. My balls pulled up tight... they were straining just to find some warmth - they were still covered by the thin threads of the material Peter's underwear were made from. I looked at the jailer... he appeared bored, and he looked like he was getting tired of my fucking around not doing as ordered.

Knowing I had no other recourse, I put my thumbs in the waistband then took them off and likewise tossed into the basket with the rest of my things. With hesitation, I turned around facing him waiting for his next set of orders while at the same time realizing I was about half-hard despite the fact that I was not at all horny... I attributed its protuberance to the fact that I was freezing cold and was shaking from the ice cold, damp, environment.

I looked up and into the jailer's eyes. They were nonplussed, and he immediately ordered, "Quickly, go to the first shower on your right. Here, use this." He said while handing me an unlabeled bottle with green looking slimy shit in it.

The water was ice fucking cold, like it had been refrigerated or something, yet I complied and soon I dry retched from the nasty, slimy aroma. Nothing came up, which I was extremely grateful for.

No cloth towel. No paper towels. After turning off the water, I stood there shaking violently, freezing cold, dripping wet.

The jailer reached into a cabinet, retrieved an industrial towel then tossed it to me. I caught it then began drying though the towel did very little in the way of actually drying... instead, basically all it did was to remove the drips of water leaving me still very wet, and even more freezing cold as if that were possible.

I walked back over to the jailer. He said, "Face the sink, don't move, don't go anywhere, do not even think of about doing anything stupid."

"Yes sir... face the sink, don't move, don't go anywhere, do not even think about doing something stupid, yes sir."

That said, he reached for a phone hanging on the wall, punched in some numbers, then said, "Doc, we have an inmate ready. Nonviolent, no restraints, disinfected."

After a slight pause, he replied into the phone, "Very well. Thanks." Then he hung the telephone back in its cradle, turned to me then said, "Do nothing stupid, the doc is on his way, and stop that goddamned fucking shaking."

He then went to the basket where he grabbed the g-string, held it up and said, "These are girly, are you some fucking faggot or some weird shit?"

"Uhm, no sir. I mean, no sir I'm not a faggot." But he wasn't paying any attention.

Next he went through my jean pockets, my socks, he looked in my shoes, turned my shirt inside out, then tossed everything back into the basket.

Just then a man dressed in a doctor's uniform entered the room, had me identify myself then, satisfied, the jailer left the room leaving me and the doctor alone.

The doctor looked mean. He had a ruddy appearance on his face. His hands were huge, calloused, but the most telling thing about him was that he had three fingers missing on one hand and four missing on the other one. But he gave me no time to actually look and equate what might have happened to him. "Get on the damn table inmate, sit still, and don't say a fucking word."

Immediately, I complied then without fanfare, roughly he jerked my head around so as to check my ears, eyes, throat, neck then he jammed his nubbins deeply into my armpits then pinched my nipple nubs to the point where they hurt seriously.

Next, he had me lie on my back while he roughly pressed on my stomach... to the point where I thought surely he was trying to examine my spine from the front.

"Stand up. Turn your head then cough."

I complied. Roughly, he jammed his finger up those canals in my groin then severely squeezed each nut to the point where it almost pushed my already nauseated stomach to and beyond limits.

"Turn around, lean over the table, grab your ass and pull it apart."

Reluctantly I complied knowing that what he was about to do would seriously hurt. My fear was realized when he shoved something up my ass... his nubs? Or that fat fucking thumb? It didn't matter what he used. I muffled a scream, took a deep breath then retched again.

"You're a fucking faggot. You're butthole is just way too loose. You relaxed just too much. What's this fucking world coming to?"

Just as hard as he had slammed his, what felt to be a wrist, inside, he yanked his finger, or whatever, out leaving my butthole stinging like crazy... even Allen, when he first inserted his penis for the very first time did not hurt me that bad. Then I realized the asshole doctor had not even used lube nor had he gloved up his hands.

"Turn around inmate."

I complied. Next he pulled a q-tip looking thing from his pocket then jammed it into my penis slit, moved it around then yanked it out. I just about lost it as the maneuver stung like I'd never been stung before, ever.

He then grabbed a plastic medicine like cup thing from the cabinet, walked over, held it under my penis then said, "Pee."

I could not pee for the life of me... first he was looking, second I was still stinging like hell from the q-tip invasion, third I didn't feel a need to pee, fourth I was still shaking like hell, fifth I was freezing cold.

I did everything in my power to pee. I even went to that place where I remembered Allen and I in the shower where we had no problem peeing on each others' legs while we were hotly embraced, kissing with passion, touching, feeling, and other such things in preparation for making mad passionate love.

"Damn it to hell. Get on the fucking table... lie on your back, spread your legs, and shut the fuck up, don't say one damn thing."

He reached up into the cabinet, pulled out a plastic wrapped cylindrical tube like thing, opened the package, reluctantly put on a pair of gloves, removed the tube like thing, lubed it up with some lubricating fluid, walked over to me then took hold of my penis and jammed that fucking tube through my penis and up into my bladder while he held the cup in his other hand. Liquid escaped my body into that cup then he yanked the tube out leaving me beyond pain... I deeply retched once again and just got on my side when a mouthful of bile escaped. It burned, it stunk, it tasted horrible, and automatically I spit it out on the table.

When that wave of nausea passed, I resumed lying on my back... he was gone. Thank God.

Two minutes later the jailer returned with an orange jumpsuit. He said, "Put this on" then tossed it to me. I caught it and quickly pulled it up, zipped it appropriately then snapped the top snap.

The next stops were fingerprinting and picture taking stations. Not bad actually. I just put my index finger onto a keypad looking like thing. After a couple of clicks on a keyboard by a person sitting at a computer terminal behind the glass partition, it was over. The picture taking was is not descriptive. Face forward, click. Face sideways, click. It was over. Both did not require any sort of violation or humiliation.

After those tasks were completed the goon cop took me into a large people filled room, sat me down in a chair at the back and said "Shut the fuck up. Do not talk to anyone except your attorney, if you have one."

"Yes sir." I stayed quiet, slinked down in the chair he had sat me in, looking nowhere except at the floor between my feet, feeling alone and extremely violated. I felt the tears well up in my eyes but quickly I dried them up with the hem of the jumpsuit just before they would have escaped.

I leaned over completely overtaken by a wave of nausea that thankfully did not result in yet another retching episode. I was still freezing cold, I felt clammy all over, I was slightly dizzy, my penis stung like crazy as did my butthole... then, while slinking into a place where I'd not ever been too, Richard walked up to me, sat down in the chair beside me. I looked up. His eyes were warm and gentle, comforting, hopeful. He patted me on the shoulder then warmly, caringly asked, "Are you okay, Angel?"

I shook my head no but remained silent, not trusting myself to say or do the right thing.

"We'll be called into the courtroom very shortly. The judge is a hard case, but he's fair, he'll do you right. My advice is to not say anything unless he asks you a direct question. Answer his questions honestly but do not volunteer anything or lie, okay?" He said softly.

I nodded silently then broke out of my hole and asked "Okay, am I going to jail?"

"Going to jail will be a possibility though not probable since this is your first offense and you've had no prior experiences with the judicial system. There'll be a fine imposed, an order for restitution, and the possibility of community service then perhaps some probation." Richard said professionally.

I tightened up at the prospects of going to jail on a more permanent basis. Richard saw my reaction. He was quick to point out, "You're not going to be incarcerated, Angel. The worst part is over. The jailer marked your record as 'Compliant'.

"MAINERO. MAINERO ANGEL." A female voice barked over the intercom system. I very nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Okay, your turn. "Let's get this done and behind you." Richard said professionally then we got up, waked into a room with a sign saying 'Municipal Court'... I felt as if I were being led to the executioner until I saw Jim sitting in the observers section. He was smiling. He nodded. Was it relief I saw in his eyes? Was it caring that I saw when he waved the second he saw me?

Why was he still here? What was I to him? Why hadn't he left so that the system could gobble me up?

"Angel Raphael Mainero. Angel Raphael Mainero, please rise." The bailiff shouted into the crowd of inmates.

Richard and I walked over to a table that had a podium thing in its middle then stood still looking forward.

"Yes sir. Angel Raphael Mainero is present. He's represented by counsel, Richard Wright."

"How does the defendant plead to one count of misdemeanor shoplifting and one count of failure to appear, counsel?"

Richard looked down at me for an answer. I replied "Guilty sir."

"Guilty as charged on both counts, sir." Richard said to the judge.

"Very well. Since there are no priors and the crime entailed no violence, this court accepts a guilty plea on both counts. There is the matter of restitution of property stolen. The value of the stolen items is $400.00. The fine is $1,000.00. Court costs are $80.00. In lieu of court costs and fines imposed by this court, the juvenile can serve a sentence of 15 days incarceration within Juvenile Department of Corrections for the State of Hawaii. In addition, one year of unsupervised probation with the stipulation that should restitution not be made within 10 calendar days from today's date, or should any other theft matter be brought to this court within the one year period then probation shall be revoked and the juvenile will be remanded to the care and control of the DOC." The judge stated factually.

I spoke into the microphone, "Sir, I don't have the money. I'll do the 15 day sentence."

Richard then took the microphone and said, "Excuse me Your Honor. May I speak with my client if it pleases the court?" Richard asked somberly.

"Request is granted, counselor. Make it quick. This court has a large docket remaining to be resolved today, a Friday at 4:30pm, counselor." The judge said in response to Richard's request.

"Do you know what you're getting yourself into?" Richard asked.

"Yes sir, I don't have the money, what else can I do?"

Richard then averted his gaze away from my eyes. Next, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped out of my skin until I turned around and saw that those hands belonged to Jim. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't happy all at the same time. He said to Richard, "I'm prepared to pay the fines and court costs. I don't want to see Angel incarcerated if it can be helped." He looked me deeply into my eyes then continued, "I'm sure that Angel and I can reach an agreement as to repayment, can't we Angel?"

He knew.

What was my decision going to be?

I wanted that moment to end. I was hoping the floor would just open up and snatch me away from the situation.

Jim then said, "What's it going to be Angel? The judge is looking extremely impatient. Just to remind you, I've known you since you were a very little boy. We can work this out if you're willing. You'll have to change your ways, won't you?"

"You mean you aren't mad at me?"

"No, I'm not mad. I'm disappointed though."

Richard spoke up, "The judge is waiting. I don't know what you're talking about but I don't think it has anything to do with this proceeding..."

"No it doesn't, Richard. It's something that Angel and I should work out... if he's willing to, that is."

"Counselor, I'm just about ready to rule. We've got to get moving. So far, this court has heard the defendant's guilty plea and his desire to be taken into the DOC's care and custody for a period no less than 15 calendar days."

"Yes sir. If it pleases the court, please allow us a few more moments as we work out a solution."

"Very well. 5 minutes." The judge said.

"We can talk about the arrangements later. The judge is waiting for our answer. Juvenile is not a place where you want to be, Angel. Trust me." Jim said and Richard nodded.

"Are you absolutely sure?" I asked.

"I am but only if you're willing. If you aren't willing then the only other alternative for you is to spend time in juvie, and then you still have one more thing hanging over your head. Richard, it's personal.

"Counselor?" The judge asked impatiently.

"Thanks. Okay, I'll do it." I replied after seeing that Jim meant business, and having the feeling that whatever we worked out would be fair.

"Your honor, if it pleases the court, my client has reversed his decision to be incarcerated. The fines and court costs will be paid today before he leaves the courthouse. An agreement has been reached between the defendant and his guardian for repayment."

"This is highly unusual, counselor. I'm inclined to deny your request for reconsideration. Can you provide an adequate explanation?"

Jim nudged me aside then spoke into the microphone, much to Richard's dismay, "May I speak, Your Honor?"

"Counselor, this is getting more and more unusual..."

"Sir, James Blake is Mr. Mainero's guardian. Perhaps he will shed additional light on the situation to the court, and to me."

"Very well. Mr. Blake, state your full name and your relationship to the defendant for the record?"

"Yes sir. My name is James Blake. I'm Angel's guardian, he's now under my care and control. I was awarded full temporary custody due to several issues of abuse when he resided in his natural parents' home. I have known the defendant since he was a little boy. He's a good kid who went wayward, probably due to or as the result of issues within his home."

"Very well. State your case, and the arrangements you've made with the defendant." The judge said.

"Your honor, I'm willing to extend a 'loan' to the defendant. He will then incrementally repay the loan on terms that I set out. He has agreed. I feel his agreement to be genuine. I empathically assure you that the terms will be difficult, but attainable, and with his expressed commitment I believe this will benefit both the court and all others concerned."

"Angel, is that acceptable to you?" The judge asked me.

"Yes sir. Jim has always been fair with me. I have no doubts that he'll continue to be fair, sir. I promise to make restitution to him. I've done wrong, and I must pay the consequences."

"So ordered. Be very aware that should you break the terms and conditions Mr. Blake set for you, or, should any other theft incidents occur then I guarantee that you will be in DOC custody for the balance of the year suspended sentence imposed by this court. Do you perfectly understand these conditions? Do I need to make myself understood in another way?" The judge asked firmly.

"Yes sir. I understand perfectly. I'll abide by terms that Jim gives me."

"Very well. Next case." The judge said after banging the gavel on the bench.

Next, Richard led us to a room with "Cashier" stenciled on its door then bade us farewell and strode off into the crowd.

Jim and I sat in chairs awaiting our turn to pay the costs. We didn't say anything to each other though I wanted to say so much. Just as I got ready to speak, a male clerk announced, "Mainero. Angel Raphael Mainero report to the window."

"The fines and court costs are $1,480.00, cash only. No checks, credit or debit cards are permitted.

Without saying a word, Jim pulled out his billfold, retrieved cash money then handed it to the clerk standing impatiently in the window.

He counted the money out then with exasperation in his voice and a stern look on his face said, "$480.00 is not enough, this will not do."

Jim looked at me then said knowingly, "I'm sure we'll get this worked out, right? Now is the moment of no turning back..."

"I don't have the difference, sir." I said quietly, knowing that the money was at home in Allen and my bedroom.

"Not here?" Jim asked quietly yet looking at me intently with his dark eyes boring holes into my soul.

"No sir. Not here." I acknowledged.

"Where is it then?" Jim asked flustered.

"It's not here sir."

"Where then? We are not playing games, Angel. Either you DO have it OR you do not. If you don't then we need to go back into the courtroom and say so to the judge. What's it going to be?"

"The money is in my bag, sir. At your house I mean."

"Are you prepared to hand me the money within five minutes, no more, after we arrive home then?"

"Yes sir, five minutes, no later."

"Did you break my trust, Angel?" Jim said.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry, sir. I'll make it up to you. I promise. You will never have to worry about me again." I said as tears began running out of my eyes then onto my cheeks then onto my shirt.

"Okay. I believe you. Don't disappoint me. I'll only do this once in your lifetime, do you understand?"

"Yes sir. Clear. Once in a lifetime and not again, I understand, completely. Thank you, sir." I said as he handed me his kerchief to dry my eyes up with.

He gave the cashier the remaining $1,000.00 then received a receipt.

The original jailer approached me as we headed back to the courtroom to show the judge the paid receipt. He said, "When you get through with the judge, I'll take you back into the receiving area to get your clothes and then you're free to go. Watch your butt, boy. Juvie is no place for boys of your magnitude to be... it's a cold hard place. Nobody gives a shit what happens to you."

"Yes sir. I understand perfectly."

That said, dad gave the receipt to the bailiff who then took it to the judge. The judge nodded then went back to hearing the case in front of him.

Jim patted my shoulder then sat down as the jailer led me back to the receiving area where I quickly got dressed and put together.

We then walked out and met up with Jim. The jailer parted with words that I would forever remember, "Stay out of trouble, don't lie, don't steal, and I don't ever want to see you here again."

"I'll never be back here, I promise." I said with every ounce of determination coming from my head and heart.

As Jim and I left the courthouse he put his arm around my shoulder, pulled me into him then we made our way to the vehicle where he unlocked the Escalade, opened the door then he looked deeply in my eyes, then said, "I love you, Angel. You're a good kid so let's not ever have to do this again."

Unable to speak because of the lump in my throat, I nodded my agreements, got in, shut the door then put my face down in my hands then cried like I'd never cried before. When I regained my composure, he then said warmly, assuredly, "I'll believe you Angel. Let's just get good with this so we can put it behind us."

We silently made the trip back home. During the ride home, I firmly resolved within and to the depths of my being that I would never again provide room for doubting my trustworthiness or honesty or integrity.

Arriving home, Jim looked at me and said "I love you."

"I love you too. And thank you from the bottom of my heart. You'll never have to doubt me again. I promise."

Immediately upon entering the house our sense of smell was overcome with the wonderful aromas of food, delicious food no less.

Ample hugs were both given and received. On the verge of crying again, Allen took me in his arms, wiped away the tears threatening to spill then he said, "Let's go upstairs."

I looked to Jim, he nodded then Allen and I took off upstairs to our bedroom.

When we arrived, I said, "I'm sorry Allen. I fucked up big time. I need to take care of something."

That said, I got into our bag, retrieved the cash money, hugged and kissed Allen, then, alone, I went back downstairs where Jim was waiting, where the other guys were looking expectantly. Allen arrived... they were all looking at me wanting to know what was going on.

I looked at Jim then reached into my pocket, retrieved that which I had taken then handed it to him, counting out each and every twenty dollar bill until it was all gone from my hands.

Jim, all the while, looked up at me as I counted those dollars out. Allen came over where he was standing right next to me... he had inquisitive looks on his face. Jeremy also joined us as did Peter and David.

With their support, and knowing I had an explanation to make, I said, "I stole money from the envelope. I'm sorry but I can't make you respect or trust me, not now anyway, I promise though that you'll never have to worry about my honesty and integrity again."

"Since you brought this into the open, which I am very proud of you Angel for doing, your chores will consist of cleaning the pool each morning and night, keeping the Escalade clean and vacuumed, keeping the garage cleaned up spic and span, I'm going to cancel the lawn service - you'll assume those jobs, and finally, you'll be in charge of laundry. Getting things straightened out should take about a year, seems like you'll be on probation for that amount of time..."

"I can do that. Thanks."

That said and agreed upon, Jim took me in his arms, offered a deep, deep hug then announced to all in the room, "We'll not talk about this again. Do we all understand?"

After acknowledging and agreeing on those terms, Jeremy said, "Dinner time!"

Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead