Trouble That Brews Within The Family (pt. 3)
Now that the comedy act was over, April sent Casey over to the bathroom to help Jeffery finish cleaning up.
Realizing something, Michelangelo jumped to his feet. "Oh no." He squealed.
"What is it Mikey?" Donatello asked while wiping a tear from one of his eye.
A frightful cry came for the bathroom. "It's the Vigilantly!" Jeffery screamed.
"Der's a Purple Dragon in here!" Casey bellowed.
Leonardo gave his forehead a slight smack. "We for got to mention what Jeffery use to be." He muttered through the fingers that slid down his face.
"Your former owner was a Purple Dragon and you forgot to tell us that?" April questioned.
Before anyone could answer, Jeffery darted out of the bathroom. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and an angry Casey was hot on his heels. Terrified, the young man hid behind Mike. "I should have known that you were friends with that maniac."
"Whoa der Case, down boy." Raph said while he grabbed the hotheaded man by the arm.
"Ya didn't say nothin' about no Purple Dragon bein' yer owner." Casey complained.
"Former Purple Dragon." Jeffery, Michelangelo, and Donatello said in unison.
"Whatever." Raphael and Casey replied together.
"Former, current, it doesn't really matter anymore." Leonardo interjected. "He's here now so we might as well at least try to treat him like a guest." That commented caused Jeffery to roll his eyes and mutter something sarcastic under his breath.
"Alright." Casey grumbled as he wrenched his arm free from Raph's grasp. "But if he tries anythin' bad, I'm gonna to make him sorry he ever got dat tat."
Jeffery grabbed one of Mike's shoulders and spun the turtle around to face him. "You're not seriously going to leave me in the hands of that guy, are you?" He asked.
Michelangelo wrapped a comforting arm around Jeffery's backside and escorted the worried young man back to the bathroom. "Don't worry dude, Casey's ok." He assured him.
Jeffery looked at Mike with uncertainty for a moment or two. "Are you sure that he's not going to do something bad to me?" Mike nodded his head. "Ok." The young man gulped as he re-entered the bathroom.
Casey entered the bathroom and all was quiet for a second or so before Jeffery darted out once more; but this time he had a pair of baggy black pants on. "Don't send back in there with that lunatic." The young man cried while taking refuge behind Mike again.
"Now what?" Raphael groaned.
"I was just gonna ta give him a shave." Casey said as he walked back out of the bathroom carrying something long and white in his hand.
"He's got a switch-blade." Jeffery whimpered. "And he's going to cut me with it.
"A switch-blade?" Leonardo inquired. "Why would he bring something like that down here?"
April went over to the black haired man and holds her hand out. "Let me see that." Casey handed her the object he carried. "It's not a switch-blade, it's a straight razor." She said while examining it. "Quite old, but in good condition."
"With all the technology around, why would you still use a straight razor to shave?" Donatello asked.
"Why not?" Casey asked back. "Nothin' can cut closer den a bare blade."
"Yer more barbaric den I thought." Raphael teased.
"Bah." Casey waved a hand Raph. "Yer just not man enough ta use a man's razor, ya wimp."
Raphael put up a finger. "One, I'm a turtle." He added another one. "Two, I don't grow hair. Dork."
"Shell fer brains."
"No brainer."
"Guys, as much I would love to sit through one of your friendly spats," Leonardo cut in, "there are other things to take care of." He pointed over to Jeffery.
"I'm telling ya right now. There is no way I'm going to let that guy come near me with anything duller than a crayon." Jeffery warned.
"What about me?" April asked. "Would you be will to trust me?"
This was the first time Jeffery saw April. His eyes bugle almost out of their sockets and he lets out a high-pitched whistle. "Babe, I can trust you to do whatever you like." He said slyly.
Casey smacked Jeffery upside the head. "Don't ya speak ta her dat way." He grabbed the young man by the scruff of the neck and drags him back into the bathroom.
"This shouldn't take long." April said as she walked into the bathroom.
"Just don't take too much off." Jeffery's voice echoed out.
"Depends on if I can run a comb through that bush you call hair." The redhead replied. "I can't guarantee anything here."
About An Hour Later
The screaming finally stopped and an exhausted, yet happy, April comes out of the bathroom. "I'm no miracle worker, but I think he turned out ok." She said with a nod of approval. "To tell you the truth, I didn't think he would turn out so well."
"So let's see him." Michelangelo said excitedly.
"I'm not coming out." Jeffery shouted.
"Why not?" Michelangelo asked.
"Cause I look stupid." Jeffery answered.
"It can't be that bad." April said; feeling a bit insulted.
"That's what you think." Jeffery snapped.
Casey gave the young man a shove. "Get out der."
Jeffery stumbled out into open. His hair was slicked back into a point tail; the end of it reached the back of his neck. The once untamed facial hair was groomed into a small goatee. He wore a large white T-shirt loosely tucked into his black baggy pants and a pair of well-worn sneakers. The young man's bare arms were littered with needle and scratch marks.
"I look like a bad boy wanna-be from a boy band." Jeffery frumped.
"I think you look cute." April laughed while pinching the young man's cheek.
Jeffery swatted her hand way from him. "You sound like my mother on one of her good days." He grumbled.
"I'm tired of all the piece meal details here." Michelangelo threw an arm around Jeffery's neck, to lead the young man over to the T.V. area. "Let's hear what's been going on with you." The young turtle sat on the right side of the couch and encourages the young man to sit next to him. "How did you get into all this? What was family life like?" Jeffery heaved a sigh as he took the seat offered to him.
The rest of the group comes over to the area also. Splinter sits in his armchair with Leo kneeling beside it. Donatello joins the young man and turtle brother on the couch. Casey sits on the armrest next to Don while Raph took the one next to Mike. April has a seat in an armchair that was between Splinter's chair and the couch. All eyes rest on the young man, waiting for him to tell his story.
Jeffery tugged on the collar of his shirt. "You all really know how to put a guy on the spot, you know that?" He seemed a bit jittery, like he was shivering or something.
"Are you cold?" Master Splinter asked.
"No. I'm shaking because…" Jeffery hesitates suddenly. "…it's nothing." He blushed.
"So let's have it already." Raphael said impatiently while leaning forward a bit.
"Give me a chance." Jeffery said defensively. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then cleared his throat. "Alright, it's like this. My dad is this bigwig businessman. Work was his life and family was just something to help him promote it.
As for my mom, well, she was the businessman's wife and a lady of society. She worried consitantly about how to look outside the house and inside. Public appearance meant everything to her. She wouldn't be caught having less than ten social dinners a month, each with a different meal and entertainment from the last. And there were also reporters littered about. If her party wasn't in at least three or four famous papers and a few society news, than the party was considered a bust. Everyone hired to do something was blamed. For weeks the household staff, the people who set up and did the entrainment, the caterers, even the clean-up crew were yelled.
Course those were on her good days. House staff couldn't stand her nitpicking ways for more than maybe a couple of weeks when she was like that. On her bad days, they were quitting every third day or so. (Raises his voice to be high-pitched) The fork is a sixteenth of an inch off. This lilac is a shade too bright and it sets off the others."
"Now what do you mean by good days and bad ones?" Leonardo asked.
"Mom had massive mood swings." Jeffery explained. "One minute or day she would be calm, the next…" he snaps his fingers, "deep depression or short temperedness." The young man heaved a heavy sigh. "Depending on whom she went to see and what her 'needs' were, she was either Bipolar or Manic Depressive." Jeffery gave a harsh laugh. "And her favorite chaser for her pills was hard liquor."
"That's bad, right?" Michelangelo asked. "You said that it was bad."
"Yeah…" Jeffery ran his fingers through what little hair hung down in front of his face. "But whenever I told her, I got smacked clear across the face." He gave a snort. "To think my birth was supposed to improve their lives."
"How did you know that?" Raphael asked.
"Cause my mom practically told me ever time she got drunk." Jeffery grunted. "(Slur high-pitch voice) You were supposed to be our little sunshine. You were supposed to bring joy into our lives. (Regular voice) The only thing I could see coming from my birth was more promotion for both my father's business and my mother's social life.
(Low-pitched, gruff voice) Family is the example of a good business.
(High-pitched) Oh, it's so hard being a society mother, but I don't complain. Only common folk look a gift like motherhood and popularity in the mouth.
"So what was life like?" April asked.
"Like a circus." Jeffery answered. "There was always something happening and usually it was something bizarre. At first it was cool and all. I mean who could object to watching people all dressed up in funny formal wear, dancing the night away to live music and getting presents for just being cute. But after having to watch what you do and what to say all the time, even in your own home, it gets so tiring. Soon you don't want to go anywhere anymore and just stay home to have a regular family dinner. The only problem was that dad wanted to work and mom needed to feed whatever problem she had at the time."
"So where exactly do we come in?" Raphael asked coldly.
"Raphael, patience!" Master Splinter ordered.
"I could never have pets in the house." Jeffery said. "Mom hated anything that crawled, slithered, or hopped and dad was allergic to anything with fur." A small smile crept on to the young man's face. "My best friend, Henry, owned a couple of adult turtles. He thought they were both males. Turns out that whoever 'looked' at them couldn't tell the difference and made a bad guess. Visiting his house was the only way to play with animals.
One day his female turtle laid a large batch of eggs. Henry was overjoyed, but his parents weren't. When the eggs hatched and the babies were old enough to be removed, Henry's parents ordered him to find a home for them all within a week or he'd lose the lot. I knew that they were giving an empty threat, but Henry didn't want to take any chances. He had his turtles a long time and he didn't want to lose them.
Unfortunately turtles were not very popular, so giving them away at school was a no go. He tried sitting on street corners and putting up signs, but only a few were taken. With the week coming to an end, Henry tried pet stores. Many stores couldn't take any of them, but we eventually found a place. Only thing was that the owner only had enough space to take all but four of the baby turtles.
Henry was frantic about the deadline coming up so soon. The owner felt sorry for him and said that there could be a place for the last four. Henry was so happy he bounced out of the store. I decided to follow slowly after so I could have a quick last look around before leaving. Good thing I did, cause that when I saw the owner dump three of the baby turtles into a cage as food for a snake and then head for the bathroom to get rid of the fourth one.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was stopping the owner from dumping Shelling…I mean, Michelangelo into the toilet.
'It's a runt.' The owner told me. 'It'll probably die within a day or so.'
'Then let me care for him until then.' I told the owner. 'What is it going to cost you anyway? You're just throwing him away anyway.' The owner was reluctant to give me Michel...Mikey, but eventually he did. 'And I want his brothers too.' I told the owner. 'The ones you're trying to feed to that snake over there.'
'And why should I give them to you?' He asked me.
'Again, what is it to you?' I asked the owner. 'You're not losing anything. If you want you can gain from this deal. I'm willing to pay for them.' I started pulling out money.
'Save it kid. If you want them so bad, you can have them.' The owner retrieved the other three just as the snake was coiling itself around one and gave them to me for free. 'Should have said something earlier when your friend was giving them away though.'
'I didn't know I wanted them until now.' I told him."
"So maybe this explains why I have a fear of snakes." Leonardo commented off-handedly.
"I didn't even know snakes could eat turtles." Raphael said in a musing tone.
"They probably can't. I bet the pet owner didn't even know that." Donatello replied. "I mean, what person would dump any animal down into the sewers anyway?"
"But you told your dad that Henry was going to throw us away." Michelangelo pointed out.
"I told him that so I could keep you guys." Jeffery explained. "If I told dad I took you from a pet store, he would have taken me right back to the store to return you all and I couldn't do that. It seemed like fate that I took you into my home."
"What makes you say that?" Master Splinter asked.
"Not long after taking in the four baby turtles, Henry and his family moved." Jeffery answered. "His dad's job was transferring into another state. His family had no other choice but go with them." He gave a small sigh. "The trouble with being a society brat is that other people don't like you. They think we're all snobs and that we like to flaunt who we are, so it was hard making friends in school. Henry was the one and only guy I ever knew that could look past to all that. He saw a boy desperate to have a friend and in need of having an ear to bend. I could turn to him for anything and everything. Adopting you guys help ease the devastating blow I received from his departure. Having you guys around was like having a part of him around too."
"Gads my sweet tooth is killin' me." Raphael razzed. He received a withering glare from everyone except Jeffery. "What?" The red clad turtle looked confused.
"Ignore him." Donatello said.
"So that's why you said we were the only friends you had when you lost us." Michelangelo brought up.
"Yeah." Jeffery nodded. "You guys really were the only friends I had left. You made life a whole lot easier for me around the house. When my mom and dad were ignoring me, I could always hang out with you. You wouldn't judge me or make me into something I wasn't. Losing you down the drainage was a more painful blow than when Henry moved away, cause then I knew I had no more friends."
"Is dat when yer youthful crime spree started off?" Casey asked coldly. "Ran off ta join da Purple Dragons and all dat."
"I didn't join till I was eighteen or nineteen." Jeffery replied just as coldly. "As for when I started being bad, I don't really remember when. I tried to be the goody-goody son that my parents wanted, but it just didn't seem right for me. I wasn't making any 'friends' until a bunch of my peers pressured me into go to the principle's office to steal back some confiscated items. Of course I was caught and my parents were called in for a meeting to decide what my punishment was." This time Jeffery let out a happy sigh. "That was one of the best highs I ever felt. For the first time in my life, I got attention and I knew how to get it. Good or bad it didn't matter to me, just as long as I got it. And the more I got the more I wanted.
After a couple years of doing kiddy stuff, like setting fires to trashcans and ripping off vending machines, I wanted to move into bigger stuff. Committing crimes and getting away with them became my new high. I no longer cared about getting attention from my parents, now I wanted to be on the news and in papers.
Through out those years my parents worried about me tainting their name, making them the laughing stock of both the business and social world. First they thought I had developed a mental disease, so they want me on medication for something I didn't have. After a long search, the finally found some quack doctor to prescribe me with something. But the stuff I was forced constantly to take made me drowsy and tired, like I was dragging my feet through tar or something.
Committing stuff had made me somewhat popular in school, so I had managed to make some 'friends'. Seeing me out of it all the time, they introduced me to something that would pick me up. It was there that I found that of all the highs I had ever experienced, being drug high was the best. Being unable to tell reality from delusions made my life a whole lot easier. If I didn't want to deal with my life, I just had to pop a pill or take a shot or inhale something.
One night, when I was out of my drugs of choice, I found my mother's prescription of Valium and a half bottle of cognac. I was still in the experimentally stage, so I tried that concoction of hers that she would make for herself ever night. Problem was that I took one too many pills and found myself in the hospital the next day with a tube in my stomach.
It was there that my parents discovered my habits and sent me to a rehab center for 'help'." Jeffery let out one of his harsh laughs. "In rehab you were forced to take some sort of medication that you could get addicted too if not careful and you had to talk about your feelings in group sessions.
And if that didn't make matters worse, I was also sent to a psychiatrist. A guy who scribbles in a notepad after asking you to talk about your mother. A guy who thinks he could get into your head by having you talk about your feelings. He didn't seem to get the fact that I grew up in an environment that expects you to be perfect while your mother drink herself to death and your father works himself into the grave. Two of the most important people in your life not care about whether your best friends moved away or were flushed down into the sewers, but think you're the one that is need help when clearly it is they who really need it."
"Feelin' resentful are we?" Raphael asked.
"Therapy only works when somebody listens to you and gives you intelligent advice back." Jeffery snapped. "It also works when everyone who needs it gets it." He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Going to rehab and the psychiatrist made me want to get a fix somewhere real bad. One day, when I wasn't being watched, I managed to escape the rehab center and to one of my local hook ups.
I had missed the stuff so bad that I kept pumping myself full of it till, for the second time in my life, I nearly O.D. After that my parents gave me an ultimatum, I was to go back to that he…shell-hole of a rehab center or never come home again."
"The papers said you ran away." Donatello mentioned.
"Run away?" Jeffery questioned. "Is that what they call it when parents throw their kids out these days?"
"So they threw you out?" Michelangelo asked.
"Not quite." Jeffery answered. "More like they tried to send me away, but I didn't go where I was suppose to."
"Where did you go?" Leonardo asked.
"While waiting at the bus stop to take me to some Teen Intervention group out in the middle of nowhere, I saw a bunch of guys with purple dragon tattoos robbing some place." Jeffery explained. "Seeing that made me want to join the fun. Before I knew it, I was fashioning one of them lovely tats." He ran his hand over the shoulder where his purple dragon tattoo was.
"Ya shouldn't be proud of havin' dat." Casey warned. "Bein' one of dem isn't somethin' ta boast about."
"Perhaps…but at the time they were the only family I seem to have and needed." Jeffery said. "I didn't learn about how disloyal they could be until about a year or so ago.
My habits started to rule my life more than I ruled them. The Purple Dragons got tired of feeding my addictions and putting up with my fits, so they set me up to get caught by the police at one of the robberies. I had enough contraband to send me up state for a long time. But I made a deal with the district attorney to get me off for ratting out the Purple Dragons. All I had to do was give away some hiding spots and where they stash their loot.
Doing that earned me a price on my head. Purple Dragons don't like to be sold out, especially by one of their own. It had been a rough year trying to feed my habits. Nobody wanted to do business with a marked man. But if I didn't get what I needed, I felt like I was going to die. I couldn't deal with reality and I couldn't deal with the lack of drugs in my system. Fortunately I was able to find a place where money talks pretty well, unfortunately they weren't always stocked. This left me looking like a manic on the streets whenever one of my withdraw fits came around. I never knew if that fit was going to be the one that will eventually kill me."
"Fits…" Michelangelo muttered. "You mean like the one you had in my room?"
Jeffery blushed. "Yeah…not one of my prouder moments."
"But withdraw can't really kill ya." Raphael sneered. "It's da drugs dat will do it."
"Obviously you don't know what it's like." Jeffery snapped.
"So what now?" Leonardo interjected.
"We could always try taking him back home to his parents." April suggested.
"No way." Jeffery stated sternly. "My parent didn't want me then, what makes you think they want me now?"
"He has a point." Casey agreed.
"Yer not helpin' here bone-head." Raphael retorted.
"I'm just bein' honest." Casey said defensively. "I mean, we did have ta clean out his room ya know."
"So what do you suggest we do with him?" Raphael asked.
"Hey, I don't know." Casey replied. "He's yer owner."
"Who happen to be here listening to people talk about him like he's some object." Jeffery cleared his throat to make himself more noticeable.
"Oh…sorry." Raphael rubbed the back of his head.
Casey did the same. "Ditto."
"So what do you suggest you should do?" April asked the young man.
"I…don't know." Jeffery replied with a shrug.
"How about finding a new way in life?" Michelangelo suggested. "Give up being an addict. Clean yourself up, travel down the path of the straight and narrow."
Jeffery gave the turtle with the orange bandanna a 'come-on' look. "Have a clue on how I can do that?" He asked. "I never graduated from high school and I don't have money to go to college with. How will I get a job with the kind of past I got?"
"Maybe we can help." April volunteered.
"We can?" Casey asked. "How?"
"For starters, we can give him a job so he can go to college." April replied. "I can help him pass his high school equivalence for a diploma."
"You wanna give him a job?" Casey asked dumbfoundedly.
"Why not?" April asked back. "Business is good enough to hire a second pair of hands, isn't it? We can afford to take him on." She turned to Jeffery. "What do you say? Want to give an honest life a chance?"
This took the young man by surprise. "Uh…" He looked over at Mike.
The orange clad turtle gave him an encouraging thumb up. "What could it hurt?"
"Nothing…I suppose." Jeffery answered. "But where will I stay?"
"How about with Casey?" Raphael suggested.
"What!" Michelangelo exclaimed. "Why can't he stay here with us?"
"Yeah." Casey said as he jumped to his feet. "Why should he come live at my place? My place is barely livable fer me."
"I'm sure that young Jeffery would prefer to live above ground rather than in the sewers." Master Splinter answered. "Mr. Jones's place would most adequate for him." Casey grumbled under his breath.
"Unless, of course, you want him to come live with me." April said slyly.
"Really?" Jeffery said excitedly while jumping to his feet.
"No." Casey shoved the young man back down on the couch. "I guess he could come live with me till he can get on his feet." He grabbed Jeffery by the arm and drags him to the elevator.
"Don't I get to vote on where I'll live?" Jeffery asked. "This is my life you know."
"Yeah, yeah." Casey grumbled as they entered the elevator. "Just shut up and let's go."
"Don't forget to come back and visit!" Michelangelo yelled. "I really want to get to know you and become friends again!"
"Sure." Jeffery replied while the doors of the elevator closed.
Later
(A phone rings) "911…what is the state of your emergency?"
"He just dropped ta da floor and………"
"Sir? What is happening?"
"I dunno know. He's just bouncin' around and stuff."
"Can you describe the victim?"
"Uh…white…twenty-four…twenty-five, I think…. He's foamin' at da mouth."
"Does he have a history of drug and alcohol use?"
"Yes…"
"Alright, hang on. I have a unit on route to you…. Attention all units…we have a young Caucasian male, mid twenties, seizing. Possible O.Ding. Location is ----. Please respond."
"This is unit ----, we're near that location. Should be there within a few minutes."
"Alright unit ----. Hello, sir?"
"Yeah?"
"I have a paramedic unit on its way, should be there with a few minutes or so. How is he doing?"
"His head started slammin' on the ground, but I managed ta get a pillow under it. He's body is still bouncin'."
"Is there any blood, cuts? Can you see his eyes?"
"No blood, no injuries. I can't see his eyes." (Sirens sounding faintly) "Der here. The paramedics are here."
"Alright sir. Let them deal with the situation."
"Of course, thanks."
(Sirens wailing…tires screeching to a stop…double doors thrown open.)
"What have we got?"
"Male, Caucasian, mid twenties. Was seizing. Convulsions stopped upon arrive here."
"What did you give him?"
"O2, ---, ---, ---."
"Do we have a name?"
"Not yet. The guy that knows him is coming here. He had to call up someone to join him here."
"We have no time to lose. Let's get him into a room. Nurse, wait here for his friend."
"Yes doctor."
(Sneakers squeaking on linoleum floor) "I'm here, I'm here. What's goin' on?"
"Doctors have taken him into a room. What I need is any information you have on him."
"His name is Jeffery Johnson."
"Jeffery Johnson! As in the son of Elijah Johnson?"
"Dat's right."
"Quick, pull up his record. He's got a history of O.Ding before."
"But he's not O.Ding."
"What?"
"He hasn't had anythin' all day."
"Do you know how long he's gone without anything?"
"I dunno know. Maybe just this day."
"Oh god. Quick, alert the doctors. Tell them the kid is withdrawing before they give him the wrong treatment."
"But I thought withdrawin' couldn't kill."
"It can if the body is de-toxicing too quickly. The shock could do a number of things to him. That's why rehab centers give addicts certain drugs, so they can slowly get their bodies back to normal."
(Sneakers squeaking) "Casey, what's going on?"
"I dunno know Ape. Somethin' about withdrawin' being fatal or somethin'."
"Will he be ok?"
"We won't know until the doctors come out. All you can do right now is sit and wait."
(Computer beeping, doctors and nurse conversing)
"Another push of ---."
(Phone rings) We got a call, it withdrawal."
"Alright, we need to…(flat line) Paddles quickly. Set at 50, get ready…clear!" (Electric shock, computer still flat lining) Start compressions, set paddles at 100… (Paddles recharging)…clear!" (Electric Shock echoing)
A/N: Welp, that the end.
-Just kidding. But the ending is coming up soon. How will I end it? Will I kill him off or will I let him live? Guess you all are just going to have to wait to find out.
-By the way, I don' t know a lot about medical terms and stuff, so that's why I didn't get so technical. Basically all my knowledge comes from what I see on T.V., but I have tried my best.
Thanks for reading, until next time.
