CHAPTER THREE

ROLLIN'S REVELATIONS AND REVEALINGS TO RICK AND RICHIE

TIM had prepared lunch for three but Quince stood over Rollin and Rick Jasper who had both already started eating. "I'm going to talk to Heather about something." That was all he said--all he needed to say. Quince, not unapprehensive, slowly and hesitantly, moved into the hall. Then sure it was the correct thing to do, he quickened his pace. Rick glanced cautiously at Rollin who seemed to gobble down every last crumb of his sandwich in between hurrying his milk down his throat.

Rollin looked at Rick through a childlike moustache of milk, "Used to stronger liquid to wash down lunch."

Rick, surprized, swallowed his bite, "Me too."

"You worked the streets Quince tells me."

"Yeah, I did. Sometimes not far from...from where you were found," Rick put sown the rest of his lunch.

"I bet you were good."

How do you respond to something like that? Rick asked, "Rollin, where did it begin for you?"

"You know?"

Rick nodded, "Yes."

"I didn't tell Quince," Rollin squinted, "And I know he wouldn't have read my mind...I know he didn't...even so he's not a stoolie."

"No. Its just instinct. I guess one streeter can tell another just by being near him."

"Kind of like Tomorrow People can tell Tomorrow People."

"Well, maybe but not exactly," Rick shrugged. Rick was older--about 17 and had a serious attitude toward everything--yet he also possessed a childlike charm to his personality. Now however he was very serious. "You needn't tell me anything if you don't want to." He was inwardly dying for a cigarette but felt this could ruin the moment.

Rollin opened his pound cake TiM had prepared, "Dunno." ROllin stared at Rick as he ate--even though he hadn't removed all the wrapper.

"You didn't eat much on the streets?"

"Not from them or on them. But I bet I earned as much as you did."

"I bet you did," RIck smiled. He eyed his cigarettes which were in his shirt pocket.

"Truth is," ROllin spoke through cake, "I ate only after I gave Cooley my money for the day."

"Your boss'name?"

"Yes, Cooley, a black pimp."

Rick stood, "Well, if there's ever anything else you want to talk about that's bothering you..."

"Going somewhere?"

He knows. "Actually if you don't mind..." RIck took out his Marlboros, "I'll stay."

"Can't imagine why you wanna poison yourself?"

"You sound like little Mikey," Rick sat, lighting up another cigarette, thinking about a young 6 year old Tomorrow Person named Mikey who also badgered him about his smoking. "It relaxes me. I don't ...you know...anymore, so I guess I got to do something."

"Truth is I smoke...smoked, too. Same brand as you n' all."

"You gave them up?"

"Yep," ROllin said proudly, "Two seconds before break out."

"Don't you feel the urge to..."

"No. They rot out your lungs and your brain. Not really good for...for the...well you know. Yes, you do," Rollin glanced over Rick fully, for the first time. "If you had left and not told me you wanted to smoke..."

"You wouldn't trust me."

Rollin confessed, "I read your mind."

"I know."

"After I ran away from my mother I was in Grand Central...a kid...eight...no money...sneaking on trains. A lady of the night shall I say...found me wandering...anyone can spot us suckers---a runaway just run...in a minute. Well, she, her name was Lolla, she brought me to Cooley. Turned out she worked for him. Oh, he was real nice, real nice to me then. In a way he always was--when I conformed and performed for him. His way. From eight to, oh about nine and a half or so, Cooley forced me to watch other deals shall we say. Actually I didn't need forcing. I was placed in the room just to watch. Nuthin' wrong with that." Rollin looked away, out a window. He huffed and continued. "As soon as I hit ten, Cooley sent me out to the streets with a boy about three years older than me---Josey," ROllin said the name with a distinct snarl, "Put me under his wing so to say. I had watched Josey and other boys perform. So I did what I thought was...Rick?"

"I'm listening," Rick stared.

"Can you come with me? As a favor? I have to go somewhere. Get a few things."

"You don't mean where you used to live?"

"Yeah, I can't keep wearing these clothes, can I?"

"No but TIM can dish up new ones for you."

"The clothes I had were...are the only things I liked about my former life...if it is former."

"TIM can make clothes just like those."

"With or without you, I'm going. I've already set the coordinates. Don't tell anyone." Rollin didn't sound nasty or defiant, he really wanted to do this---but Rick wondered if unconsciously--Rollin had another deep-rooted reason for wanting to go.

"I want you to tell me more."

"I know you do," Rollin said sheepishly.

"This is blackmail," Rick couldn't hide his admiration for Rollin's methods, "Okay, okay. We go." He doused his cigarette.

"You sure didn't take much convincing."

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"I always get hurt. Besides performing is what I do best," Rollin said about his scheme. As the two began to jaunt, Rollin asked, "Rick, were you--good--in bed, I mean?"

As Rick faded he managed, "Rollin, that's personal."

"Nothing is in our business," Rollin said. They were standing in a posh, plush room. Pink rugs, wooden antique furniture, modern white walls---clean and spotless.

Rick eyed the room, "This penthouse is where you lived? '

Rollin teled, "Thanks TIM, spot on. No one's here yet. Rick, watch the door." He ran, nervously to a huge closet past a silver, iron post lamp which was hanging off a thin metal rod. Opening the closet, Rollin began to matter-transport his outrageous wardrobe to Aerie.

At Aerie, John and Mike returned from the hanger and peeked into Rollin's room. Clothes appeared on the bed. John picked up a pair of black satin shorts, "TIM, what the hell's going on now?"

TIM gulped, "Uh--I'm sure you wouldn't approve."

"Yes," John said as a shirt full of metal lined holes appeared. It was all black except for the silver holes. Mike, still in Quince's button down shirt, stooped. He picked up more shorts--red ones.

"This looks like--ahh--liquorice. Shall I taste it and find out for you?"

John slapped Mike's wrist, the liquorice shorts went flying to the bed, "Put those down. TIM, I want Rollin, Rick, AND Quince here right now!"

TIM says, "I'll try but Rollin may refuse--and block me out as he has you."

John puffed, "Some days it doesn't pay to get off the bed." He sat on Rollin's bed. A bunch of blue strings appeared on his face, covering his nose. John took it off, then realized these were strings attached to a central cord which was supposed to be worn around the neck so the entire thing could appear to be a shirt. Mike laughed, "Pretty sick stuff."

"Just remember--your son has been hanging around with him!"

Mike dropped his jaw and wasn't so happy now.

Rick came over to Rollin, "Don't you want to forget this. Won't these clothes just remind you of this past?"

"They're all I have!"

"Not anymore. You have us!"

"Look, you didn't give everything up all at once, did you?"

"No," Rick laughed and looked around, "How you could leave any of this is beyond me."

Rollin became nasty, "Would you stay? I finally found out how abnormal Cooley's life for me was. I hated it. I was eleven when I realized. You see the other thing I had was Cooley's library. Oh, he censored it for sure, but I was smart enough to realize--men and woman had families--lived more normally. Then I tried to leave Cooley with June. She was..." Rollin could almost see her beautiful, innocent face, "was a prostitute with a Madam who hated Cooley. I had an affair with her."

"At eleven--you're an early bloomer."

"I could, even when I was nine." Rollin gasped, dizzy from recalling a past of nightmares. "Look, can we talk about this later?"

"But June?"

"Cooley shot her, then beat the shit out of me. He dragged her and me up steps. He threw her out a window--you see she was still alive after he shot her. Just watch..." Rollin turned as he felt someone come into the room, "The door."

The boy from the alley, lighter skinned than Rollin and still wearing the brown suede vest, walked in, "You're back! This is my room now!" He pulled a gun form a holster under his vest.

"Josey!" ROllin dropped his ripped denim pants he had just taken out of the closet.

Rick immediately appeared behind Josey and twisted his gun arm. The gun fell but Josey, a slimely little 16 year old, squirmed free. He snatched the gun back up from the floor and quickly turned it at Rick, who vanished. Josey turned again and leveled the gun at a stunned Rollin. Josey grit his teeth, "What I always wanted." He flaunted the gun at Rollin and began to pull the trigger, then stopped, "But first..."

"Stop that," came a commanding black man's voice. Tall, lanky, and bulky--Cooley walked into the room. Cooley used to wear and occasionally still does wear outrageous pink clothes, fedoras, rimmed feather adorned hats--all the classic pimp clothes. But now in 1990--he wore a business suit--gray with a lighter vest and a loose tie. He looked like any other business man--a lawyer or an insurance man perhaps. Cooley even sat behind a desk when in his office. As he walked in, Rollin noted the pointy, steel tipped shoes which were black. Those tips were on all Cooley's shoes and were removeable. He'd seen Cooley kill a john who refused to pay by kicking into the man's stomach. "We was wondering where you jaunted off to, Roll, baby."

"Jaunted?" Rollin still eyed Cooley's steel tips.

"Oh, they, is not for you." Cooley took his pink cane from behind his back, "This be for you, my good, good, little big man." Cooley raised the cane, holding its handle in his right hand. He was still, looking at the cane, aware of what it could do wielded by Cooley. "Maybe you tell ole Cooley where? And how you get in here. Who you be turnin' trick for now? Ain't I treat you well?" The pimp's left hand wrapped around the cane shaft. The right hand pulled the handle--which was attached to a long silver metal sabre concealed within the pink shaft. Cooley dropped the shaft and pointed the sabre at Rollin's neck."To mar such a perfect face. I'd lose business but you do me no choice." Cooley smiled revealing dirty teeth with a few gold ones. He advanced on Rollin.

A wire hanger flung onto the sabre. From the closet Rick also tossed a wooden coat hanger into Cooley's chest -- in boomerang style. Cooley fell back into Josey, who was so set on making ROllin suffer he forgot about Rick altogether. Rick raced to Rollin's side. Rollin was shaking with fear, letting out huffs of it in gasps. Rick spouted, "Jaunt, Rollin, jaunt!"

Cooley recovered and saw Josey pointing his gun at Rollin who was across the room. He grabbed the gun, "Give me dat!"

Rick had to repeat himself, "Jaunt guy! Now!" A bullet shot past his shoulder as he ducked.

"They hear shots. No one care," Cooley laughed, "Screams, no one come." He picked up the cane and charged at Rick.

Rollin vanished. A second after, Rick did the same. Cooley stabbed the wall.

Rollin was at Aerie in his room with John and Mike. He shivered in fear, waves of it forcing breaths out of him. His face shook, puffing out moans. Quince ran in, "Mike! I...Rollin!"

John approached, "Are you okay?"

Rick appeared next to Rollin, "No, no he's not."

John nodded and raised a pair of hole filled white trousers. "Rick, what's this all about?"

"John, not now." Rick grasped Rollin's shoulders, "You're safe now. You can stop shivering."

"He...he saw...both of them...saw you jaunt."

Rick shrugs, "So they don't know who I am."

John stammered, "Who saw you jaunt?"

"Later boss guy," Rick said, "Can't you see he needs to calm down."

John nodded, "Yes, I do. Maybe I can finally help him in some way. All of you come on." He lead them out and Rick eased Rollin out with them.

Cooley walked into his office in the penthouse. He sat down and snapped his fingers. Josey, following, went to a double doored cabinet and opened it. He began preparing a drink for his pimp. After he drank, Cooley gulped "You don't harm the kid. I only do that."

"I...I'm sorry," Josey stammered, "I did it outta loyalty to you."

"You did it cause you hate him You always have even since you find out he be better at his work than you."

Josey trained himself not to answer Cooley back. "That other guy..."

"I see him around. He may be in business with Roll. The two think they can move in on our business--they best think again. I'll have them both for me."

"Why not just kill them?"

"Yes, I think I may. Unless they decide to work for me. The reputation they both got be good for business. All my johns request the thirteen year old one. Rarely you by yourself."

Josey fumed.

Later that night John asked Rollin, "Are you all right now?" They were both in metal seats in a large deprivation tank in darkness. They were on the satillite FUTURE ONE.

Rollin said, "Yes, that really worked."

The lights came on and John stood, "It'll take more session time but eventually you'll be able to calm yourself down. You use a word with the calm, warm feeling that comes from the deep breathing exercises and muscle tense--untense method. Eventually that feeling will come by itself as soon as you remember your call words--"be calm."

Rollin stood, "It really did work. John, are we really in space?"

"Yes," John smirked, "On the satillite. I'll show you around."

John takes Rollin to the observation deck and he marvels at the earth which is below. They look out the wall length windows which are set against one side of this observation area. Rollin was wide eyed, "Cool, I always liked space and learning about it." John wondered if that were the reason for all the space images during Rollin's break out. A nagging feeling told him there was another more important message there. "And now--a surprize." John lead, Rollin, uncharacteristically, followed. They stopped at a large tan door which slid open infront of the boy, sliding into the side of the wall. Inside Rollin saw Rick, Richie, Wilson, and Quince. He also saw a blue, shaggy rug on the floor, large black bean bags, a huge white bed, and entire wall devoted to a stereo-TV set up, and another wall---just behind and to the left of the bed----with open closets--filled with some of his old clothes as well as new clothes made by TIM. Fancy square light fixtures illuminated the room and occasionally changed from one soft color to another. "John," Heather called to John's mind, "About that boy."

"Not now dear," John teled back down.

Rollin stepped into the room, overwhelmed by emotion. Quince examined his face, "Do you like it?"

Richie spoke up, "If you don't--we can change it--if you'd like."

Heather nagged John's mind, "But John, he's a genius, I had TIM recheck all the tests. An IQ of 146. I'll retest him but...j"

"Heather, later!"

Rollin choked, "No, its great. I...I.."

RIck waved his arms, "Is there enough space?"

The room was big. John went to the wall opposite the bed--a side wall. "If not this side wall opens up to another whole room."

"No, its perfect," ROllin said, dry in his throat. "No one's ever treated me like this. I ...I'll be right back." Rollin walked out.

Rick started to move after him but Richie put a hand to his chest, "No, let me this time?" Rick looked at Richie and nodded his approval. Richie smiled, "Thanks," and moved out of the room.

Out in space two figures watched Rollin as he came onto the observation deck. They wore AE suits. Rollin stared into space from the warmth of the observation deck but he couldn't see them. A female voice telepathed to the other figure beside her in space, "He's alone."

A harsher, deeper male monotone voice answered, "Now is the time."

Out in space two figures watched Rollin as he came onto the observation deck. They wore AE suits. Rollin stared into space from the warmth of the observation deck but he couldn't see them. A female voice telepathed to the other figure beside her in space, "He's alone."

A harsher, deeper male monotone voice answered, "Now is the time."

Rollin pressed his face to the window, forced to deal with emotions he never felt, made him uneasy. A funny, organ like sound emanated from behind him. A man, wrinkled in his entire face and wearing a brown tunic, fizzeled into being form thin air. Next to him twinkled a shapely blonde woman in a pink spacesuit. Both pointed strange ray-gun like devices at him. "I am Harry Steen of the Trig. You know all about the Trig."

The woman said, "We are not here to harm you. Just take you with us."

Rollin did not trust her and did not like her voice. "TIM?" He called.

"He has been time neutralized for the moment," Steen warned. Rollin flung the table infront of him as the two fired stun-guns. The table blocked their first shots but as Rollin dashed away from the deck toward the exit, they both stunned him. Steen moved to him with a trans-band as he fell. "I'll send him to the planet with this trans-band. Sandor, you have earned your parole extension."

"Shall I return time to normal before the others notice?"

"Yes, hurry, they are familiar with it. Return time now."

Richie walked to the observation deck, halted, then continued, momentarily forgetting why he was going there. He had remembered Rollin and continued. He caught Steen and Sandor putting the band on a fallen Rollin who was on his back. "YOu! What are you two doing?"

They turned and pointed stun-guns at him. Richie thought of a song he had written about peace. It flooded his mind and overflowed. Steen felt happy, warm, and kind. He dropped his stun-gun. "What am I doing?" thought Richie. Sandor looked at Steen who unbuckled Rolln's trans-band. "Better keep it up," Richie smiled at Sandor, who raised her stunner again. A burst of compassionate lyrics and soothing, mellow melody filled their minds. Even Rollin, in his sleep, smiled. Sandor dropped her stun-gun and sat in a chair.

TIM called, "John, to Observation Deck A. And hurry."

John, Quince, Rick, and Wilson jaunted to Richie who was bent over Rollin. John snapped, "What's been going on here?"

"Those two tried to kidnap Rollin," Richie snapped back.

"Harry Steen," John caught the face, "And Joy, I believe. Better known as Sandor. I thought I felt your influence, Steen."

Wilson made a jaunt and returned with a stun gun. "Ours work. What'll we do with them?"

"Put them in a stasis chamber until I can contact the Trig. I'll find out what this is all about. I'm surprized at you, Steen."

Steen held his happy head up, "Don't be too upset, John."

Sandor was helped up by Wilson's arm, "Yes, I only helped Steen to get a pardon."

"A pardon?" Steen smiled, "Well, maybe, yes."

"Who sent you?" Richie asked. "John, I don't understand how I did it but they're both very agreeable now."

Rollin blinked and saw Rick over him. "You told me I'd be safe up here."

Rick looked at him, "Just a stun-sleep gun."

Rollin stood up, leaning against a window, "Is there no place I can go where I'll be safe." He saw Quince and Wilson taking Sandor and Steen away. "Wait!" He runs to them, "Let me handle them!"

"Uh--no," John smiled and came to ROllin's side, "We will. I'll get to the bottom of it."

"They should be beaten," ROllin spouts.

Richie looks at him, "Rollin, you don't really know what you're saying. Let's go to your room. I need to tell you something." John looked at Richie and nodded.

John teles to him, "I felt he should know. I don't know why...I just believe it will help him."

Rick caught Rollin as the boy almost fell. "Easy!" Rick steadied him.

Rollin felt his head, "Too fast. All too fast. Too much."

Rick braced Rollin from one side and Richie took another. They were about to jaunt as Wilson and Quince left with the two from the Trig. Joaquim, blonde long hair, good looking young 17 year old tennis star, came in just as the four were leaving. He was sweating and held a tennis racket, obviously just finished playing. "You guys okay? I heard a commotion telepathically. Then I felt a jump in time."

Richie squirmed. Joaquim made him uneasy ever since that road crew guy--Hank--had forcibly raped him. "Uh--hi, Joaquim. Yes. we're all okay. I'll fill you in later." It was not Joaquim's fault that he felt this way nor was Joaquim going to do anything wrong to him. It just made Richie think about Hank and the terrible incident.

Rick looks at the two of them and then at Rollin, "Joaquim, this is Rollin. Rollin..."

Rollin brushed them off his shoulders, "I can walk on my own now!"

Joaquim held a hand out and Rollin shook it. Rollin laughed, "You play tennis?"

"Yes and I smell like a pig. I got to shower," Joaquim said as he walked toward the door, "You'll like being a Tomorrow Person, Rollin."

Rollin watched as Joaquim walked off, "Isn't he that queer TIM and Quince told me about?"

Rick couldn't help but laugh, "Rollin, stop."

Richie says, "Rick, I'll take him back now. I have to talk to him."

"Okay," Rick took out another cigarette, "He's all yours."

Rollin turned and watched Rick, then he looked out the windows, "Look at that!"

Rick turned, "What?"

"Something in space," Rollin pointed. As Rick turned to see, Rollin summoned up a pair of scissors to his hand and quickly snipped the cigarette in Rick's mouth. Half of it popped off and flew into the window.

Rick mumbled a curse under his breath, "Those cost money."

"You must have some saved up from..."

Richie grabbed Rollin's arm and pulled, "Come on."

As they left, Rick, undaunted, took out another cigarette, "Between these two kids--Rollin and Mikey--I won't have any smokes left."

In Rollin's new room, Rollin sat on the bed, "It feels good. Thanks for saving me."

"How'd you know?"

"I just do. You saved me from those two."

"Thanks," Richie looked down, "About Joaquim..."

"The queen?"

"You can't keep saying stuff like that about him."

"He chooses to be that way. I didn't."

"Didn't you have any..female customers?"

"Some--high paying ones. But they were mostly males. Friggin' pigs."

Richie puffed, "How can I make you understand...Joaquim is not like them. Look, male to male love may not be all as bad as you think." Richie checked what he was saying and could hardly believe it after the damage Hank--the man that raped him--did to his life.

Rollin yelled, "What do you know about it! Its not normal! For years Cooley, the pimp, told me what was normal--that my life was normal --but it was all lies!"

Richie put a hand on ROllin's arm, moving form the chair he was on to the bed, "I know it was not easy for you. I don't know how this will help you but I feel I must tell you. I'll trust my instinct and hope it is right. That telling you will do you some good."

Rollin looked at Richie, directly, "Something painful?"

"I lost my girlfriend, nearly my career. My life seemed broken and changed."

"What happened to you?"

"I didn't choose it either but a road member of my crew--he...he forced me down and raped me. No one could handle that--least of all me. But you see I can still defend Joaquim's choice because I know him." Richie was exhausted from this talk, he stood. "I should go now. I hope that helps you because it was very hard to say."

"You blurted it out just fine," Rollin said with no hint of emotion, neither malice nor thankfulness.

Richie moved to go. "Good...bye."

As Richie was at the sliding door, Rollin, looking up, spoke. "When I was eight--when I was first brought to Cooley--Josey--another, older kid, he forced me--hell, I didn't fight really. I didn't know any better. He did to me what that guy did to you."

Richie sat back down on the bed. The door slid shut.

Rollin went on. "But after so many times--I thought, well, I thought boys to boys was, you know, normal. And I watched so many johns and other male prostitutes..."

Richie says, "I know it hurts. You have to realize--that kid had as many problems as you. You can't focus all the blame on him."

Rollin thought this time before answering in anger. "I don't. It was mainly the pimp. He made me watch himself even as he raped Josey." Rollin swallowed, "It feels good to tell someone."

"Yes, it does," Richie sniffed.

"Things like that aren't right."

"No." Richie moved his shoulders up, "But you want to tell me more?"

Rollin had tears in his eyes and couldn't look at Richie's eyes. "I thought it was normal. From nine to about eleven years old, I made it with johns...let them do to me..."

"You had to or be forced onto the streets or killed by Cooley..."

"No! Let me finish! There were many times when I made it with the other boys who joined us---just for pleasure I did things with them--fun--Cooley allowed it as long as we didn't overtax ourselves. In all ways. There were Lee...Kiki...Lil' Billy...Audrey...THomas..."

"Okay."

"Don't you see--I enjoyed it!"

"You can't be blamed for that--nor can Joaquim."

Rollin wiped his arm across his eyes, "I see." He laid on his back onto the bed.

"Don't answer if you don't want to. Between nine and eleven. You're thirteen. What happened when you found out the truth?"

"I...I read in Cooley's library. He cut out a lot of material and books but I wasn't so stupid. I realized the truth about men and women and ...families. It was then I began to want a normal life--to enjoy the opposite sex. I never did when I had female clients." Rolln stared at the ceiling. "Then I met June on the streets--Josey eyeing us both like a spy hawk. SHe worked for a madame who hated Cooley. We had sex or what I think was sex, it felt as good as any I had after. After we did, I knew I would leave Cooley. I felt I was in love with her even after only two days. I was getting ready one night to leave Cooley, go who knows where with June. Cooley caught us in the abandoned house--beat the crap out of me for wasteing his time and my goods. I thought that would be it. June tried to run. He shot her--right near her heart. She didn't die--right away. Cooley dragged us both up steps--threw her out the third story window onto a garbage heap. She died then. THen he said, "This is what you are for--what you do best!" And for the first time Cooley raped me. I became so horrified and depressed, I became hooked on intravenous drugs, some liquor, but mostly needle junk. I was a junkie or close to it at 11."

Richie nodded, sensing the pool of tears that was on the bed in the boy's eyes. "You don't have to go on."

Rollin cradled his own body and drew his legs to his chest, folding up his kness to his chest. "I want to. You may as well know it all."

Richie thought, "There's more." But he said, "But if Cooley murdered..."

"I saw him murder johns who refused to pay the correct amount or who mistreated me. I went to a missionary on 42nd street, a father there named Reigny--propositioned me and he too raped me when I refused. I fought then but I was too doped up and too little."

Richie clicked his fingers, "Reigny, Reigny. I remember that name."

"I turned him in to a reporter. He got nailed. You see I saw Cooley at the missionary. The good little pimp gave money each month--he said for the kids--but really it was for Reigny to keep turning out kids to him! And in return Reiny got freebies." Rollin stopped shedding tears, "Cooley got me again--he detoxed me. No one knew I turned in the priest. Normally Cooley wouldn't have bothered to detox any whores but I was his star--no client ever complained about me--and they all requested me-- alone or with others. Cooley's methods for detoxin' were cruel, archaic--the withdrawal nearly killed me. I still feel queasey--like the stuff will still kill me."

"As a Tomorrow Person--that's near impossible."

"I'd like to be double sure," Rollin forced a smile, recalling his bravery, "Later at 12, I stayed off the junk on my own. I told Cooley what Reigny did and he seemed to understand. To care."

"So you stayed."

"I had nowhere else to go. I thought."

"Like I said, you are not to blame."

Rollin sat up and looked at Richie, "Will you...hold me...please?"

Richie wasn't sure he could go this far--but Rollin looked like a lost puppy. He hesitated,"I..."

"You don't have to," Rollin sobbed, reluctantly willing to face this humiliation alone, shedding tears again.

"No," Richie bent to him, "You're wrong. I do have to," Richie hugged Rollin and Rollin couldn't help but sob deeply and for a long, long time. Richie seemed to feel brave now and decided to be strong for this troubled young teen. Nevertheless a few tears left his eyes too.