Date: Sat, 30 Aug 2008 18:16:00 EDT
From: Djedoric58@aol.com
Subject: THE BULL SINGER, CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

THE BULL SINGER
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

From chapter twenty seven

Steve sighed and studied his hands for a moment, then he looked at me and
said, "I remember you saying that Mags didn't assault you, that you seduced
him. Is that true?"

"Of course it's true. Now tell me what you're getting at or leave me
alone." I folded my arms across my chest and looked away, grinding my teeth
and thrusting my chin forward.

Steve sighed again. "Unfortunately you've put Mags in a position where he
had no choice but to plead guilty. When you told Barnes you seduced Mags,
it was an admission that you and Mags had sex, which means he is guilty of
child sex abuse."

"But he didn't abuse me."

"The law says that he should have resisted you and said no. The onus is on
the adult not to agree to have sex with a minor, no matter how loving and
consensual the relationship. Of course there is one way you can help him."

I gave him a sarcastic look. "How? What can I do?""

Steve smiled at me. "Have you noticed any bodily changes lately?"  Now read
on

"Such as?"

"Hair growth where you don't want it?"

Instinct made me touch the roughness above my upper lip. "So what?"

Steve studied his hands again. "What if we could prove you're older than
you believe you are, even by a few months. That would give Mr. Mornington a
chance to have the case against Mags dismissed."

"Who's Mr. Mornington?"

"Mr. Chambers' lawyer."

"So what do we do?"

"Nothing much. Do you know anything about average growth statistics in
children?" I shook my head and Steve continued, "When they hit puberty lots
of things happen to every child in exactly the same way but at different
times, but there are other things that happen differently according to the
genes they inherit from your parents; also their health or lack of it can
effect how they develop. Poor diet at a young age can affect growth. How
tall is your mother?"

"Five eight I think."

"And you're five four. Have you grown much since you've been eating
properly?"

"My legs have grown longer, and I'm not as skinny as I was last year."

"Do you know anything about your father?"

"No, I never met him and the Bitch won't tell me who he is."

"Do you know where you were born?"

"Some place in Manchester. It's what my birth certificate says."

"And you believe it?"

"Come on, Doc. It's an official document."

"Which can be forged or altered well enough to fool all but an expert
eye. Have you got a passport?"

"No, I've never needed one."

"What about school trips abroad?"

"I was either never well enough, or the Bitch wouldn't let me go."

"Okay. Let's back to your own health and growth." Steve took hold of my
left hand and drew it towards him. Pushing the sleeve of my surgical gown
he ran his hands over the muscles of my arm. "You see how your muscles are
quite well defined? I've seen you naked often enough during the tests and I
can tell you, you no longer have the body of a boy. You must have noticed
the change in your body shape as your bones mature and your muscles
lengthen. Perhaps you've noticed a change in your voice."

"My voice broke two years ago. What's new?"

Steve chuckled. "And I suppose you still talk with a squeak one minute then
a bellow like Bosun the next? Fro what I've observed, you're still a light
tenor but your tone is steady and fully controlled."

"So?"

"What do you bet your certificate has been doctored and you're heading for
your seventeenth or eighteenth birthday?"

For a moment I want to laugh at him, but something in his eyes told me he
was serious. "Why would my mother do that?"

Steve shook his head. "I've no idea, but from what Elias has told me about
her, I've no illusions as to her ability to produce any document she
chooses."

Stunned into silence, I had to think hard about Angela's meetings with an
endless stream of unsavoury characters while I would be locked in the
bedroom. Didn't Angela remember that little boys listened and spied at
keyholes? For years I did this, first so I could keep my mother in sight
because I loved her so much and I couldn't understand why she shut me away
from her all the time. Later, I did it to try to find out things for my own
use; not that I understood much of what was being discussed. But week after
week, year after year, I did see money on the lounge table; stacks of
it. And over the years I watched my mother change from a loving angel into
the Bitch I grew to hate. And I blame the change on the lure of all that
money.

* * *

After Steve left to see to other patients, Marge took charge and gave me
breakfast then helped me into the shower. Then came a trip to various
departments for test for this and tests for that till I was glad when Marge
had me ferried back to Grandfather Chambers' suite and the comfort of a
luxurious bed. Ah, bliss! A chance to sleep! Or so I thought. I wasn't
prepared for a visit from the Wicket Witch of the West in person. When she
stalked into the bedroom I actually looked behind her for Dorothy's little
dog Tito. I stared in surprise as she marched to the bed, dumped her case
on the roll over table and whirled on Marge as my savour got ready for
battle. "Matron Parker, I believe? I'm Mz. Jessie Welch, Social
Services. I've come to Interview Joseph Street regarding his temporary
custody." Her voice reverberated through my head and made e wince.

"Oh, have you now?" Marge stood in front of her with her hands on her
hips. "You didn't ask my permission to come barging in here. Where is Miss
Moore?"

"Unavoidably detained by a domestic emergency. I've been called into to
take over the case. I've had my instructions that no time must be lost in
placing this young man in a favourable environment. That is what I'm here
to do, and you can stay and monitor the session or leave, I don't mind
which." Leaving Marge seething worth indignation, `Elmira Gulch' spun round
and unzipped her case, taking out several sheets of paper, and pad and a
pen. Plonking herself down on Marge's chair, she sorted through her sheets
toll she was satisfied they were in ordered, then took up her pen and
pad. "Joseph Street, at a special court this morning, Miss Moore handed
over you case to me.  I suppose you want to know the outcome of the court's
proceedings regarding Mr. Alton." She didn't give me a chance to open my
mouth. "He has been charged with sexual assault upon a minor and pending a
trial to be set at a later date he has been ordered not to have contact
with you unless it is supervised by myself and the person who has been
appointed your temporary guardian. Indeed, your mother has had a
restraining order placed upon him stating that he has not to come within
five miles of your temporary residence. But to make things even, I have
also had a similar restraining order placed upon her." Mz. Welch looked me
straight in the eye and winked. While my jaw dropped a mile, she lost no
time in rattling off other decisions the court had made regarding Mags and
myself, but it all went over my head as I studied Mz Welch more
closely. Had she actually winked at me? Couldn't have! Her face would have
put the sternest judge to flight. Suddenly she spoke my name and tapped my
arm. "Pay attention, young man. I'm not in the habit of repeating
myself. As soon as you are declared fit enough to leave here, I will
personally pick you up and transport you to your temporary address where
you will be introduced to your new guardian."

I bridled at being told what to do by a stranger, mysteriously intriguing
as she appeared to be. "Who is this guardian? Don't I have a choice in
this?"

"Oh, yes. You either do this or you will be taken to a Social Services
home, although it all depends on how your own trial goes."

"My trial?" I reared up off my pillowed and appealed to Marge for
support. "What have I done?"

"You assaulted a police officer your mother and she's pressed charges. A
preliminary hearing has been set for Tuesday next week. After that I might
not have to bother with you. You'll be in Juvenile detention." Suddenly her
fearsome expression cracked. "Mind you, I'll fight like the devil to keep
you out of that place." She rose to her feet and put all but one if her
papers away, closed her case and shook my hand. There was a twinkle in her
eye as he said, "I'm not quite the monster stories make Social workers to
be, young man. Trust me to work for you not for your mother or the
government department I represent."  Promising to see me son, she marched
out of the room past a frozen Matron. It was some time before either of us
could speak.

Marge came down to earth first. "What on earth was that?"

I doubled over with laughter. "My salvation on a broomstick?" The following
day, Steve and Derek came to give me the results of the tests and shot my
elation to pieces. I had a hole in my heart.

* * *

I couldn't believe it. I had a Ventricular Septal Defect; At birth it had
gone undetected it was so small. Over the years, and thanks to my dear
mother neglecting me, it had slowly grown till now it had begun to affect
my health, and the fainting fits were the result. As if I didn't have
enough to worry about. Knowing nothing about heart surgery I had a vision
of my chest being ripped open and me joining the zipper club afterwards. I
was so relieved when Derek said there was no need for all that. He would
run a catheter from my groin to my heart and insert a patch over the
hole. I would be able to watch the whole proceeding on a monitor if I
wanted, but I chose to be sedated. I certainly would not make much of a
doctor. Five hours later, it was all over and I was left to sleep
undisturbed for as long as I wanted in a recovery room next door to the
OT. I only slept for a couple of hours and woke up with Mags on my mind. No
one had really told me what had happened to him except for what Mz. Welch
said about him being released on bail for which it turned out Elias had
stood as guarantor. I wondered what he was doing now, when I would ever see
him again. I got so anxious, which wasn't good for me, about people not
telling me anything, Marge went of to get some answers for me. Satisfied
that someone was doing something, I settled back and tried to relax and did
actually doze off. In the distance, I heard a chair being moved and felt
something nudge the bed. I opened my eyes and saw Mz. Welch looming over
me, a reproachful scowl pinching her face. "Young man, you certainly know
how to manipulate people. I told I would sort things and yet you kick up
such a stink you have your doctors fearing a relapse. Now, stop all this
childish nonsense; the sooner you calm down and let people do their job,
the sooner you will recover. And you can tidy yourself up; you have
visitors coming in five minutes and you look a disgrace."

All I could say was, "Yes, Miss," my voice no more than a squeak. She
snorted, stuck her nose in the air and marched away to where a set of
pyjama shorts and shirt lay folded on top of a silk dressing gown. In a
manner that brooked no resistance, she had me out of bed, stripped and
dressed despite my embarrassment, in three minutes flat, and dumped into a
wheel chair with an extended footrest. Luckily all the doors we negotiated
opened automatically or I would have ended up black and blue with my left
ankle used as a battering ram, the speed with which she pushed my chair to
the Chambers suite. The only thing I found hilarious was the reaction of
anyone we encountered as they dived out or get mown down. That and the way
Mz Welch put one foot on the rear bar of the chair, pushed off with the
other and yelled `Yeeehaah!' as we sped down the hall towards the suite.

Within five minutes, Mz Welch had violated several hospital rules, had we
been in a public hospital, and shown her complete disregard for a patient's
safety; and all she said was, "That was fun."

I couldn't help laughing because I had enjoyed it as well. Once I could
breathe normally again, I glanced up at her, and found her hatchet face
back to it's normally humourless expression. She turned down the sheets
and, with surprising strength, hauled me out of the chair and dumped me on
the bed. I guess her sense of urgency rubbed off on me and I scrambled into
bed. She straightened the sheets and, surprise surprise, as we heard
footsteps approach the door, she leaned over and planted a kiss on my
forehead. Seconds later, while I stared at her like a stupid fool, she was
back to her starchy old self, reaching into her case for another pile of
papers. Then the door opened and Steve and Derek walked in, deep in
conversation. Behind them, walked a man even taller than Benjamin with a
shock of white hair and carrying a brief case. Accompanying him, Marge only
reached to his elbow but was obviously in charge of the group. Then I got
the second shock of the day as someone pushed Elias Chambers' wheelchair
into the room. "MAGS!"