LOST INNOCENCE
The final chapters of this story are similar too and follow the same story line as my story "A Mother's Love" but they focus more on Starsky's POV.
CHAPTER 10
The following afternoon Rachel went to sit with her eldest son again, arriving just after David was served his supper tray. He sullenly allowed her touch without pulling away but he refused to talk to her beyond a few mumbled words.
"I spoke with the doctor." Rachel told him with forced enthusiasm hoping to raise his spirits. She knew how much he hated being confined to bed when he was sick, being confined to a hospital bed with a badly broken left ankle that was in traction must be torture. "He said as long as there are no complications, you can come home at the end of the week." When he didn't reply but simply looked at her from beneath that veil of long lashes, she continued. "You'll be on crutches and in a wheelchair for a few weeks until your ankle heals enough for them to put you in a walking case but the doctor doesn't think there will be any permanent damage." She looked at her son closely trying to gauge his reaction before continuing "Your shoulder will probably bother you for a while even after the sling comes off and you'll have to have some physical therapy on it and on your ankle." She glanced pointedly at his supper tray that was still sitting, untouched, on his bedside table. "You need to eat."
"You want it then you eat it." David grumbled "It tastes like crap."
"David Michael!" Rachel scolded him "Watch your language."
"Crap ain't a bad word. I could have said shit." he remarked. He saw the anger flare in his mother's eyes and wisely decided to be quiet. She had been pushed as far as she intended to let him push her for one day. "Sorry…" he muttered in a half-hearted apology.
"You could say it like you meant it." Rachel told him, gathering up her things. "I really should be going. Jacob will be back to get me soon. They're keeping Nicky until you get out of here but I still have to go to work in the morning."
"Go on home, Ma. I'll be okay." David told her in a weary voice. He knew how hard things had been for his mother since his father's murder and he felt guilty about adding to her problems. He accepted her goodnight kiss without complaining, for a fleeting moment wishing he was Nicky's age again. He blinked back the tears that sprang to his eyes as she left the room, leaving him alone.
He was almost asleep when he heard the door to his room open again. He opened his eyes to find Ice standing beside his bed, looking nervous and uncomfortable in the unfamiliar surroundings.
"Hey, Curly." Ice said, eyeing the heavy cast on David's leg and the battered, bruised face of his young friend. "You look like shit. Did you get the number of the truck that hit ya?" he smiled at his feeble attempt at a joke. His gaze darted anxiously at the door as if to make sure they were still alone, then lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "I just wanted to let you know that Chico and his bunch got what was coming to 'em."
"What did you do, Ice?" David demanded, gazing at the other boy intently.
"Wasn't me or the boys." Ice said, looking vaguely uneasy. "The cops got 'em and they're all going away for a long time."
"For what?" David asked, probing insistently for answers that Ice seem reluctant to give.
"Rape and murder." Ice replied
David choked back the sudden fear that rose in his throat His heart fluttered in his chest as he whispered, "Who? Tell me…please…" when Ice didn't answer immediately, David gave a long drawn out moan and shook his head fiercely. "No…god, no. Please…" he reached out with his good hand and tried to grab Ice's denim jacket. "TELL ME!" He pleaded in a sharp voice that refused to be denied.
"I'm sorry, pal." Ice said sincerely. "They went after Cheyenne after they finished with you." He hung his head to avoid the pain in the brunet's eyes. Ice hated emotional scenes and telling his friends that someone they knew and cared about had been murdered. He had to do it far too often in his short life. "Chico confessed to cutting her throat. He said she got what she deserved."
David turned his head away, letting the silent tears fall down his cheeks to the pillow beneath his head as he struggled to deal with the blow he had just been dealt. He heard Ice leaving the room. Somehow, David knew he would never see the young gang member again. He wasn't sure how he knew, he just knew. Dark thoughts of revenge filled his mind but Chico and his gang were already behind bars. There was nobody to take his anger out on except himself. Ignoring the pain that flared through his injured shoulder at the motion, he slammed his right fist down on the metal bedrail as hard as he could. Lying there alone in the stillness of his hospital room, he cried for the losses he had suffered in his life over the past few months.
Early the next morning, Pete Garrison came by to talk to him about his assault and take his statement. David kept it brief, disclosing only what he had to tell him. He could tell that Pete knew he was holding back information but, to his credit, the cop decided not to push David for any more details than what he had already given. David became agitated when Pete asked him about Cheyenne's murder, already having established a link between the two cases. The pain was still too fresh in his mind. It was at that point that David refused to answer any more questions or to cooperate any longer. With a sad gaze at the young boy that he had known since he was born, Pete walked out of the room without a backward glance.
When Rachel came by to see him that afternoon, she found her eldest son quiet and subdued, his sapphire eyes lacking their usual spark. She already knew about Cheyenne's murder and knew that Pete had talked to David about his own assault earlier that day. Rachel was at a loss. She wanted desperately to help her son, to ease his emotional and his physical pain, but she didn't know how. All she could do was be there for him if he needed her but David seemed determined to deal with this latest trauma on his own without her comfort or support. Rachel was terrified that she was losing him to the pull of the streets and the gang mentality. She couldn't let that happen. She had to find a way to save David from his self-destructive behavior even if he didn't want to be saved. Since David didn't want to talk to her, she reluctantly cut her visit short, leaving her son to brood in solitude.
It was almost six more days before the doctor finally declared David fit to go home. Rachel and Jacob arrived shortly after noon to pick him up. They found David sitting in a wheelchair, anxiously awaiting their arrival. The ride home was made in relative silence. Even a stop at a nearby fast food place for lunch did little to lift David's spirits.
When they pulled up in front of the house, Nicky burst out the front door with a happy scream. Only his Uncle's fast reflexes kept the youngster from throwing himself at his older brother and hurting him. Handing the excited youth over to his mother's care, Jacob carefully helped David from the car and got him settled into the wheelchair.
As they all went into the house, Nicky pranced around his big brother excitedly. "Can I sign your cast, Davy? Huh? Can I?"
"Nicky," Rachel warned him gently "Settle down. Let your brother catch his breath."
"Yeah, kiddo." David said with a faint smile. "You can sign my cast. Go get a pen."
Nicky scampered to his room to find his school box. He came back with a black marker and proceeded to carefully scrawl his childish signature on the heavy cast. When he'd finished, he looked up at his older brother with a satisfied smile. Relieved that the two boys seemed to be all right for now, Rachel went into the kitchen to tend to some long neglected chores while Jacob told his two nephews goodbye.
David sat in the wheelchair, staring out the living room window. He wanted to be outside hanging out with his friends, not stuck in the house with his mother and kid brother. But that was out of the question. Rachel had forbidden him to hang with any of his friends because of what had happened. And with his leg in the stupid cast, he couldn't just walk out the door like he would have done otherwise. He turned his attention back to Nicky when he heard him say something about his Uncle Al and Aunt Rosie coming all the way from California for a visit. "What'd cha say?" he asked, glancing at his younger brother.
"I told you…" Nicky said with an exaggerated sigh "Aunt Rosie and Uncle Al are coming to see us all the way from California." He was pleased with himself because he knew something that David didn't.
"What for?" David asked suspiciously. His aunt and uncle from California didn't visit often. The last time they'd been in New York was for his father's funeral. And they wouldn't be coming for his Bar Mitzvah. That had been canceled because of his injuries. "When are they coming?"
"This weekend." Nicky said cheerfully. David had been ignoring him a lot since he started hanging out with his new friends and Nicky missed hanging out with his big brother. He was pleased that David was actually talking to him instead of telling him to get lost like he usually did.
"Nicky," his mother said as she came back into the room. "Go outside and play for a little while."
"Okay," Nicky said agreeably. The front screen door slammed closed behind him as he ran out into the front yard.
Looking at his mother, David said "Nicky said Aunt Rosie and Uncle Al are coming for a visit. How come?"
"Because I called them and asked them to come." Rachel told him
"What for?"
"David, we need to talk." Rachel said, seemingly changing the subject. "About all the trouble you've been getting into. About what happened with those other boys."
"I don't wanna talk about it." David said firmly. This was a conversation they'd had more than once in the past few weeks and he was in no mood to have it again.
"Not talking about it isn't going to make it go way." Rachel pointed out patiently. "You were lucky this time. What about the next time?"
"There won't be a next time." David insisted confidently.
"You can't be sure of that…not the way you've been acting lately. Not with those boys you've been hanging out with."
"Leave my friends out of this." David said in an irritated voice. "I can take care of myself."
"No, you can't. At least not as well as you think you can." Rachel sighed heavily knowing that her son was going to be very angry with her when he found out what she had decided to do. "I don't know what to do with you anymore, David. You won't listen, you disobey me constantly, you sneak out of the house whenever you want to…and now this! You disrespect me and anyone else who tries to talk to you."
"Then why don't you just leave me alone?" David demanded, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. "I don't need to have you telling me all the time what a fuck up I am!"
"David Michael Starsky!" Rachel snapped sharply "You will not use that kind of language in this house! You're not too big for me to turn you over my knee and spank you!"
"I'd like to see you try!" David yelled in a challenging tone. He wanted to apologize but his pride refused to let him back down now.
Rachel took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm herself before continuing. In a deceptively calm voice, she said "When Al and Rosie go back to California, you're going with them for a while."
"What?" David exclaimed, his voice high with shock and surprise. "You're sending me away?" His jaw jutted out defiantly, refusing to acknowledge how much his mother's words had hurt him.
"You haven't left me any other choice, David." Rachel said sadly. She knew she couldn't continue this conversation right now or she'd start crying. "I don't know what else to do with you."
As she left the room, David yelled at her retreating back 'I HATE YOU! I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU IF YOU SEND ME AWAY!" Biting back the tears that flooded her eyes at the pain and anger she heard in her child's voice, Rachel forced herself to keep walking and ignore him, disappearing into the kitchen.
As his mother disappeared from sight, David choked back a strangled sob. He couldn't believe that his mother would actually send him away. He was sure he could talk her out of it if he had enough time. The idea of leaving the only home he had ever known, his family and his friends, terrified him. He barely knew his Aunt Rosie and Uncle Al. They had moved to California before David was born and he had only seen them once a year when they came to visit at Christmas time.
Still reeling with shock from his mother's declaration, David wheeled himself across the living room to the downstairs room where he would be sleeping since he couldn't climb the steps with his cast. He slammed the door loudly and locked it but he felt no satisfaction from his childish act. With some difficulty, he managed to slide himself from the wheelchair to the day bed sitting in the corner of the room. Lifting the heavy cast up onto the cushions, he stretched out and turned his face, burying it in the pillow so nobody would hear the sound of his heartbroken sobs.