CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE Sufferin' Sex-Slave Sickos

MIKE - Me-n-Eddie drive up to the parkin' lot of the Bears Den. I had to chuckle at the outside of it, I mean, holy cripe, it looked like the outside of a cave, for Pete's sake.

"Say, how's about it, kiddo, ya ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

We both get outta the car and get in line. There's a bouncer behind a velvet rope, checkin' ID and turnin' people away, only lettin' in certain follks. That doesn't seem fair.

"Don't know how we're gonna get past this one, Boss-Man, he looks pretty tough."

"Hah! Poor sap doesn't know what tough is - he's never met me before."

EDDIE - We get to the top of the line and the bouncer wants to see some ID. "Membership cards, please."

MIKE - I fake 'im out. I start feelin' my pockets, pretendin' to look for the card. I cringe mockingly. "Aw, damn, I musta left it in my other wallet. How 'bout you, kiddo, ya got yours?" Eddie does the same thing, takin' my lead.

"Sorry 'bout that, guy. We left our cards at home, so how's about you bein' a real good guy and....."

"NO CHANCE! No one gets in without showin' ID."

Then what looks like the boss comes out, and sees the two of us and says to this jerk-faced jerk-off, "let the guys in, these are gumshoes, they're famous 'round here, they're always in the paper."

"Well, how come I never read about these guys?"

I couldn't resist chimin' in, "you look more like the type that craps on newspapers instead of readin' 'em. Now, be a good little boy and do like yer daddy, there, says, ka-peesh?"

"Ka-WHAT?"

I roll my eyes, snicker and just shake my head, "boy I can pick you rocket scientists a mile off."

We walk in and the manager grabs a phone and says to the person on the other end, "Hey, we got a couple-a celebs here, Mike Batz, Eddie Robinson - can ya take them to the V.I.P. room, please." He turns to us and says someone's on the way up to get us. Another one of the bouncers comes to escort us to the V I P room. Boy, talk about a scenic route. Nothin' but a bunch-a bulgin', baldin' hairy guys, all growlin' at us. I was thinkin', "Aw, Judas Priest, gimme a break" Our so-called escort tells us that growlin' is a way of sayin' "hi" around here. "You never know, you might get lucky."

Eddie clutches my arm and says, "no need - we already did. We're just lookin' for someone."

"Aren't we all, kid!"

So we get to the V I P room. Holy Red Foley, look at this place. Enough leather and steel to open a bike shop. They're into all kindsa weird stuff here, spankin', suckin', rim-jobs, there was even a couple of guys blowin' each other and rollin' on the floor like some kinda wheel. Hoo-boy this was gettin' weird. For a sec, I didn't even care why we were here, we just wanted to get the hell out. Up comes somebody with a little spray bottle.

"Good evening, boys, welcome to the Bears Den V I P Room. Would you like to sample our newest fragrance?"

"Your newest what?"

"It's a new scent, soon to hit the market. One squirt and it's enough to drive your man batty."

"uh, sure, okay, anything's worth tryin' once."

HUGE MISTAKE - A GRANDE MUY BIGGO MISTAKE! Me-n-Eddie get spritzed and freeze up. We can't move our arms, they're glued to our sides, our knees are bucklin', we feel like we weigh a thousand pounds. We're losin' it big time. Eddie starts to panic.

"C-can't....MOVE. Can't.....STAND UP!"

EDDIE - BAM! We're DOWN! We're paralyzed but we're in a lotta pain, too. Holy orthopedics, it felt like ev'ry bone in our bodies were smashed with a sledgehammer.

"What the....heck's...goin' ON?", I cried out.

Mike couldn't breathe, his teeth were gritted to the point of bein' gnashed, his jaw was clenched.

"We were doused with a kinda...poison...paralyzin'...per-fume"

"Holy Estee...LAUDER!"

"No, no, no, you're wrong, it's by Brut Faberge. Or should I say BRUTAL Faberge!"

"Ya call this a...V-v-v-V I P ROOM!"

"Why yes, it is! Everyone in here is a VIP - Very Immediate Prisoner, that is. I realize you're too paralyzed to actually ask what's to become of you, so I'll just volunteer the information. You see, you will be stripped of these so-called clothes of yours and wrapped up in enough steel and leather to open a bike shop. We'd better hurry and get you all locked up - the paralysis doesn't last forever, you know."

MIKE - The creeps drag me-n-Eddie to separate areas. My hands are shackeled with leather cuffs with a chain goin' across. I get strapped into this leather vest with some kinda harness in the back which is hooked onto that kind of invisible wire they use on tv to make someone fly. Lucky enough, the drug wears off and I'm able to talk again, so I start screamin', lemme tell you.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YA GOIN' WITH MY BOY! EDDIE! EDDIE! ED-DIEEEEEEE!" I get a cat-o-nine-tails right across the chest, my nipples feel like they got a whale of a paper-cut, I almost shriek in agony. Aw, here comes the worst part. They stick a ball in my mouth, like a gag, with a strap goin' around my head. Just 'cuz I'm muzzled don't mean I don't keep screamin'.

"As for your boy, he may not be yours for very long. I won't spoil the surprise just yet, but I can't wait to see the look on your face when you see what we've done to him."

I keep screamin' more muffled. Our adversary yawns and says, "string this one up, boys, he's annoying me." I go flyin' - almost up to the ceilin'. Holy mother of crap, I'm just danglin' here, wearin' nothin' but a leather vest. They got wires comin' outta my hand-cuffs, too. I keep kickin' my feet, but there's not much that can do when you're hoisted 50 feet in the air. Suddenly, all the lights go down, then there's a pink spotlight on what looks like a stage. It's an emcee, "gentlemen, and gentlemen, boys and men, bears and admirers of all ages, welcome to the imprisonment, torment and imminent demise of the Dashing Defective himself!" There's another spotlight on me, this too. The crowd starts jeerin', booin', even throwin' stuff at me. Aw, Jesus Murphy, what the hell is this ABOUT?!?!?

"In this corner, a throwback to the 60's, when boots were made for walking, the Dashing Defective's Bore Friday will demonstrate CAGE DANCING!"

My eyes popped open wide with fright, rage, and other things, Eddie got the pink spotlight, too, him too, wearin' nothin' but a leather vest.

"He doesn't look like he wants to dance for us. I think it's because it's a little cold up there. To give him a little more rhythm, I suggest the floor of his cage should be heated - TO, let's say, 200 degrees! What do you think, AUDIENCE?!?!?!?"

Oh my God, they're gonna burn him alive! The crowd goes insane. My boy starts screamin' and hoppin' like there's no tomorrow. He tries to hang on to the cage bars to keep his feet from touchin' the floor, but he keeps slippin' off and fallin' down, hoppin', screamin' for his life.

"A little slippery for you, Bore Friday? They were greased with Palmolive. You know you're soaking in it! JUST LOOK AT HIM DANCE, BOYS! Bouncing those balls that only a dashing defective could love!"

The crowd laughs hysterically. I continue strugglin' and screamin'. It looks like the heat is turned off, Eddie's not hoppin' as much as he was.

"All RIGHT - That concludes the entertainment part of our program." The audience starts groanin'. "All right, all right, don't get into a state, it ONLY gets better from here. Did you like his performance?"

The crowd goes nuts again.

"Would one of you like to see him perform in a more PRIVATE SETTING?!?!?"

More cheerin' and yellin'. What the hell are they gonna do with 'im NOW!

"Dashing Defective, you have been volunteered to ASSIST in the next event. All of these fine gentlemen were given a raffle ticket at the door and YOU are going to draw the WINNING NUMBER! The BEAR-er of the winning number will have his way with your little Bore Friday and Eduardo will either satisfy our lucky winner, or DIE TRYING!"

Me-n-Eddie are both screamin' at the top of our lungs, which is drowned out by this obnoxious loud disco music we both hate so much, even more so now. Some son-of-a-bitch with a bucket comes up to me and tries to make me draw a ticket. Eddie's screamin' what looks like "NO!" and I'm strugglin' to move my hand as far away from this bastard as I can. I try to keep my hands balled up in fists, but it's no use, my fingers are pried open, the ticket is shoved in, then the son-of-a-bitch takes it out of my hand and reads the number. A sumo wrestler type walks up and gets in the cage with my boy, grinnin' and growlin' ev'ry step of the way. The audience keeps screamin', cheerin', evem laughin'. He takes his pants off, punches Eddie in the gut, which sends him stooped over, then he sticks his cock inside of him. I still can't hear much, but I can see Eddie's face contorted in the worst agony as he's bein' rocked back and forth, sometimes hittin' his head against the bars. He's poundin' the floor with his fists, cryin', beggin'. Ev'ry vein in his neck and face bulges out. I'm still screamin', too, while Bucket Boy starts beatin' the tar outta me, punchin' my gut, my face, just about ev'rything.

HOLY REAR ENTRY!

THIS IS UN BEAR-ABLE TO SAY THE LEASH - I MEAN, LEAST!

WILL EDDIE GET THE POPPING OF HIS YOUNG LIFE? POSSIBLY THE LAST ONE?

WILL MIKE BREAK LOOSE TO RESCUE ROBINSON FROM THESE RASCALLY ROGUES?

WILL YOU READ THE NEXT INSTALLMENT? BECAUSE THAT'S THE ONLY WAY YOU'LL EVER FIND OUT!

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR - Repugnant Republican Rascals!

EDDIE - Man, oh man, you are not gonna believe this! If me and Mike didn't live through this for real, he'd think I was makin' this up, but here we go. It all started bright and early on a Thursday mornin'. I was makin' breakfast for the two of us when Mike comes up to me wearin' a pair-a handcuffs.

"Hey Eddie - looky here"

Lookin' from my cookin', I turned to him and laughed, "holy jailbait! That's whatcha get for not payin' that parkin' ticket!"
"Aw, crap, that ticket's a joke and we both know it, but this isn't. I've been readin' up on how ya can use mind over matter. Here, watch this."

He held his hands up and tried to pry them both apart. His face turned beet red, his teeth were gritted, he was groanin', too - just the way I like him sometimes.
Anyway, a couple-a minutes go by and he actually broke the links!

"Holy houdini - how d'ya do that!"

"Just as I says, kiddo, mind over matter. I'm a pretty good built guy, pretty strong, all this steel is just a bunch-a DNA molecules that can be broken if ya fight real good against it."

I laughed again and joked, "boy, that'd come in real handy if we ever turned into bad guys"

Mike grew pretty serious after that. "Eddie, please, don't ever joke about a thing like that again."

"Aw, but, Mike, I was just....."

"Please. It don't take much to turn a good guy bad - now me-n-you met a bunch-a people along them lines and ya know how easy it'd be. Bein' on the side-a good is so precious we can't even joke about crossin' over. It's a gray line about this thin."
He was holdin' his thumb and index fingers together.

"Gosh yes, Mike, you're right. But that's still a neat trick there with the cuffs."

Lightenin' up again, Mike says, "yeah, it took a little time to learn it, though, but it was worth it. Anyway, I'm starvin' to death and there ain't no mind gonna get it over THAT matter. Serve it up, Joe!"

MIKE - Just then the doorbell rings - it's new business - a client in crisis - I was about tohit the buzzer and realized I was still in cuffs. Get the keys out, open them babies - CRACK, there ya go. Shame I had to waste these, but, oh, well, I'm a man of the law, I can get plenty of these - Anyways, in walks a CEO type, 3-piece pinstripe suit, salt-n-pepper hair perfectly combed - it doesn't seem to move - he's carryin' a briefcase. I put my hand out for shakin' - "hey - Detective Batz, this is Detective Robinson - how can we help?"

He opens up his mouth to talk, tightens his lip, exhales hard and puts his head down, then looks up again. "Detectives, I hear you're the best in the business. I think my boy's in a lot of trouble and I hope you can help".

I lead 'im to the sofa, "sure, make yourself at home. Ya need anything, like coffee, or somethin' a little stronger?"

"No, thank you, I just ate before I came here. Detectives, this is very difficult to live through much less talk about, I'm not sure where to begin."

Eddie pipes in, "just tell us what's on your mind and what you'd like us to do. For starters, what kinda trouble's your son in?"

"Well, he, uh, he's only 16 years old, stays out pretty late, almost every night. He was once in the running for a Yale scholarship, had always performed very well in school. However, as of late, his grades began to fall - or may I say plummet."

"Gee, that's too bad - ya think he's into drugs, that kinda thing?"

"Well, that's what I'm hoping you'll find out. I tried to talk to him myself, but that came to nothing. I don't think the police department should be involved in this because I'm wary of bad publicity. You see, I'm Chief Executive Officer of..."

MIKE - "Holy crap", I thought to myself, "I had this guy pegged right - score one for the Batz-Man".

"and I don't wish this to be leaked out to anyone. I think this may help you deduce what's going on in my boy's life. I found these under his mattress. I think he may be gay."

"No shit", I think to myself as As I look through the stuff in the briefcase filled with issues of The Advocate, some sports magazines, and other things. Eh, harmless enough. Kid's just jackin' off to 'em. Can't blame him, though - I did some serious strokin' sometimes. Don't have to anymore, though, heh-heh.

"This is of course a serious problem. I think I would be devastated if he was, but I'd like to know for sure, so I can set about healing him."

"Beg pardon?"

"I've heard of clinics and workshops where young boys who are confused about their sexuality are re-programmed and cured of their illness."

"Illness?"

"Why, yes, of course, like alcoholism, drug addiction, even cancer, homosexuality is an illness which must be eradicated, and I would like to do that for my son."

EDDIE - I really had to keep up my poker face on this one. This guy was really gettin' offensive and it all I could do to keep from poppin' 'im one. But I had to say somethin'.
"What makes ya think he's sick? Some folks say it's genetic, other folks say it's how a guy chooses to live his life."

"I am the boy's father and I've raised him to live a certain way, the same way I was raised to live and it has given me a perfect life. I need to do whatever it takes to remove what is a sick, ugly stain on my family's reputation. Now, are you going to cooperate with me or not?"

MIKE - I gave Eddie one of these gestures that says "cool it" and I told the guy we'd help 'im out here. Not that I agree with anything he says, but, well, he is a client, he thinks there's somethin' wrong goin' on, and he wants us to do somethin' for 'im here. "I can understand the stress you're under and how much this worries ya and gets ya upset. We'll do ev'rything we can. Now, the magazines will help - do ya have a recent picture of 'im so we can stake 'im out?"

The kid's dad whips out a pic and hands it to us. Holy Red Foley, this kid's pretty hot. He's got the same million-buck haircut like his dad, but it's a really rich brown. Wow, what teeth, this kid's a real smiler. He really picked the right team to play on, he'd be a pretty big hit, I thought. But, anyway, his dad's hirin' us to see what's up.

Dad gives us his card with his card with the address and phone number.

"Let's see - ya know if he's gonna be home tonight, or if he's goin' out? I think we can park a little ways down from your place, then tail 'im that way, then talk to 'im, or somethin'."

"Just find out what he's up to, take photographs and bring them all to my attention. If there's any talking to be done, I'll take care of that, thank you very much. Boys were once arrested and imprisoned for this sick behavior and I think it would do this nation a great service if such a penalty were to be reinstated."

EDDIE - Holy Mc Carthyism

MIKE - Ward Cleaver wrote out a check for the retainer fee. I told 'im I'd let 'im know about expenses and other things.
"We'll keep ya posted once we get somethin'. Just hope we can help ya, is all."

"My sentiments exactly, Detectives."

EDDIE - I usually tell people to call me Eddie, but that's a kinda friendly thing, this creep don't deserve that. I'm good with "Detective". Right after the door closes on his butt, too bad it didn't hit 'im there, I had to open my trap.
"Holy heartless homophobia - why'd we take his case, anyway? Isn't this a free country?"

MIKE - Eddie was burnin' up here. He was pretty uptight about my takin' the case on, but a gumshoe is a gumshoe is a gumshoe and that's what this guy needs. I had to rein Eddie in a bit. I took him by his shoulders and stared right into his innocent, beautiful wide eyes.

"Now, look, kiddo, the boy is a minor, he's not at an age of consent. His old man is only doing what he thinks is right...."

"...for himself, ya mean."

"Well, that may be true. I wouldn't take this on if he were your age, but unless he applies for emancipation, he's gotta follow his old man's lead, whether we agree or not, he wants to know what's goin' on here. Me-n-you didn't have that, where our dads gave a rat's patoot about us, but this guy does."

"Well, yeah, but all that crap he was comin' out with...."

"....he just doesn't know any better. Maybe he never met any gay guys before, he's goin' by what he heard about 'em. He doesn't know that gay men can be upright, good citizens and all-a that."

At that point, Eddie tightened his lips and nodded. I egg 'im on, "come on, kiddo, bring them hands up, slam that fist in your hand, like I like it when ya do. Say I'm right, come on, I know ya wanna - this is me yer talkin' to, huh?" He's really kinda cute when he does that, that he doesn't really like what's goin' on, but he respects that someone thinks he's doin' the right thing. That's all anyone wants to do is what's right, or what they think is.

"Oh, oh, okay" SLAM - fist goes into the hand, that's a way to make them bi-ceps bulge. Ooh, WOOF! "Okay, you're right again, Boss-Man"

"Spoken like a good boy. Anyways, we gotta get headin' out later on, try to follow this kid."

"Mike, I got an idea. Before we met, ya know, I was hangin' out here and there. I knew a guy who was turnin' tricks. Now, I never did that sorta thing, but he was a good kid. We dated a couple-a times, then when I found out what he was doin', we broke it off."

I was non-plussed. I couldn't believe my Eddie would've hung with that type. "Eddie, that's a felony. What were ya doin' hangin' with that sort."

"Look, I told ya I broke it off when I found out. I was just as shocked as you. Anyways, I left it on good terms, this guy's into kinky stuff, and all-a that, I figured I'd show him this kid's pic and see if he knows a thing or two."

"Well, I dunno, I'm not crazy about this idea of you bein' in them areas."

EDDIE - Now I was non-plussed. "Mike, I'm a crimebuster, I'm not goin' there to get a six-pack, I'm thinkin' of goin' to try to wrap up this case."

MIKE - The arms are folded, the legs are spread-eagle, the look on my face is sterner than stern, the voice, gruff and authoritative. Yeah, this kid's my crimebustin' partner and my life partner but right now I'm becomin' his dad, that I'm old enough to be, let's face facts, and I'm all about the facts.

"Hold on a minute, sweet cheeks, YOU ain't goin' anywhere - WE'RE gonna see this guy about a tip. No way in hell I'm gonna letcha alone in a part like that. There's way too much temptation."

"Temptation? Me? I avoided that sorta thing my whole life. What makes ya think I'm....."

"I know you stayed away from all that stuff before. But that was before I knew ya. Ya didn't have me in love with ya then, but ya do now." I grab his right arm with my left hand and lightly poke his chest with my right index finger. "Now, look, kid, I know yer a good boy and ya don't want any part of that. But I'm a good MAN. Good men look after good boys whether they need 'em to or not, 'cuz that's what good men do when they love their boys, especially THIS good man. Ka-Peesh?" Before I can give 'im a chance to answer, I nod, wink and say "ka-peesh" for 'im. "Now, let's roll."

EDDIE - Me-n-Mike go lookin' for this guy I knew in the old days. I sat shotgun in the car as he was drivin', real satisfied look on his face, both of those real hard, manly hands on the wheel. I start rubbin' his leg up-n-down, the grin on his face gettin' wider. WOOF!

"Hey, Mike"

"Yeah?"

"All that stuff you were sayin' back there, settin' me straight and all - I gotta admit, I kinda got off on it. Kinda turned me on."

"I know."

"Yeah?"

"Course - I see ya gettin' all ga-ga when Batman does that with Robin. See, kid. I always try to give people what they want - I know ya wanted that."

"You're serious! Wow, no way!"

"Big way, kiddo. Why the hell do ya think ya get brash sometimes - 'cuz ya know I'm gonna grab ya, look at ya the way I do, talk to ya the way I do. That is why ya fell for me in the first place. Why the hell else ya think ya get brash sometimes - 'cuz ya know that's what gets me! Oh-ho-ho YEAH, baby! I was watchin' ya deck that thug the night we met. You were really happy to be kickin' some thug butt. When I saw them arms of yours poppin' in and outta them sleeves, I got enough wood to build a log cabin."

EDDIE - Man I was laughin' out loud. "I was turnin' ya on that much?"

"Mucher than much, kiddo. C'mere and give yer hero a kiss."

Eddie slid over and planted me one. I put my arm around 'im, like we was goin' to the drive-in or somethin', which wasn't a bad idea, but we had this sleazebag to talk to, so (AHEM) FIRST THINGS FIRST. We were ridin' for a while, then Eddie sees this kid he was talkin' about. "Hey, Mike, there he is, beep the horn."

"Hey, Richie! Richie, over here, man, it's Eddie!"

Well, if it wasn't the Midnight Cowboy himself. Ya shoulda seen this one, all decked out in a cowboy hat, painted-on tee shirt, poured on jeans - sufferin' snakeskin. He leaned over on Eddie's window, as he put his arms on the door, I could see a skull-n-crossbones tattoo. "Hey, Eddie, long time no see, man, what's the word? Hey, is that Mike?"

"Sure is."

"Hey, there, it's good to meet ya. I've read a lot about ya."

"Richie's your name?"

"Well, that's my real name, yeah, but my street name's Bronco Billy."

"Ah, yeah, hence the cowboy get-up. Looks good."

"Thanks. Hey, so what brings ya guys up here?"

"We're checkin' out what some kid's up to. His dad wants us to track 'im down, that sorta thing. Thinks he's out cruisin'. Here, we got a photo of 'im."

Bronco Billy, I mean, Richie, whoever he is right now, looks at the pic, recognizes the kid. "Aw, yeah, man, I saw this one a whole bunch of times. What's the deal with his dad, man?"

"He's all pissed off 'cuz the kid's only 16."

"SIXTEEN? No fuckin' way!"

"Big way, Bronco."

EDDIE - The guy acted like he found out he accidentally boinked his cousin. "This - - AW, I can't believe I did it with a kid."

MIKE - Well, I think I can tell why this one's turnin' tricks instead of doin' taxes. "Didn't ya think he looked kinda young for his age, there, Bronco Billy?"

"Well, he said he was 27, I took him at his word. I'm not exactly runnin' a liquor store, I never check ID."

"Might be a good idea from here on, ka-peesh? Ka-peesh!"

"Do ya know this kid pretty well?"

"Well, ya don't exactly do the kinda business I do without gettin' acquainted real good. We talk sometimes. We met at this club called the Bear's Den, filled with bears, admirers, that sorta thing. I'm an admirer, so's he."

MIKE - This didn't make a whole lotta sense to me, but than again, not much does in this life. "Well, if ya like bears so much, why'd ya go with him?"

"I could admire anyone that's got the cash. You got enough scratch to go to Fantasy Island, just call me Mr. Roarke."

"Uh, no, thanks, I'm good with callin' ya Richie. Anyways, where's this Bear's Den, anyway?"

"Not far, just a couple-a miles. Just head down this street til ya get to Wireton Road, make a right, there's a kinda ramp which'll take ya 'round the place, just circle around til ya can get in the parkin' lot."

"They got a cover?"

"Nah, but ya gotta be a member."

"Aw, creeps"

"No mind, kid, we can bluff our way in. Hey, thanks for the tip"

We were about to take off when the Midnight Cowboy asks me a favor. "Uh, sure, okay, what is it?"

"Ya think I can get a hug from Eddie?"

"Oh?"

"It's okay, Mike, he's a good guy. Besides, I haven't seen 'im in a while."

"Okay, but not long. We gotta go off and find...Tattoo."

EDDIE - So I get outta the car....

"DOOR STAYS OPEN!"

....and I'm chattin' with Richie -

"Yer lookin' pretty good, Eds!"

"Me? What about you? I love this get-up, MAN I wish I could dress like that!"

"NO YOU DON'T!"

"Your guy's right, I mean, I still like ya and ev'rything, but none of this is for you. You were right to take off when ya found out what I did."

"Why didn't ya ever tell me?"

"'Cuz I knew I'd lose ya."

We both laughed. It was true.

"You were just the hottest guy in the neighborhood, and one of the nicest, too. I really wish I coulda been more like you. So honest, forthright, you knew who ya were and what ya wanted to be. Ya know I sometimes got a little jealous of that scrapbook ya used to have. Ya don't still have that, do ya?"

"Til the day I die. Well, we do have to get goin'. I finally got the life I wanted, and now we gotta go live it."

"Okay. Listen, though, you take care-a yourself, all right?"

"You, too, Rich - and thanks again."

OUR HEROES DRIVE OFF TO THE BEAR'S DEN. BRONCO BILLY WALKS A FEW FEET WHEN A MERCEDES BENZ PULLS UP. "Get the hell in", CALLS A VOICE FROM THE CAR. IT DRIVES OFF. IT'S THE BOY'S FATHER! WHAT IN TARNATION'S GOING ON HERE?

"So, did you do as I asked?"
"Yeah, dad, I did. Told 'em to go off to the Bear's Den, just like ya wanted."
"Splendid. That picture of your cousin seemed to do the trick - uh, no pun intended, that is."
"Say why do ya wanna get these guys so bad? I mean, I know yer pissed at Mike, but why do ya gotta get the kid, too?"
"Well, you're too young to remember the Communist blacklisting era, but just as it was said then - - guilt by association. I can't believe Batz didn't recognize me. That plastic surgeon did me a world of good."

HOLY HOAXES! DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHAT'S TO HAPPEN NEXT? CAN YOU BEAR IT?

OF COURSE YOU CAN! THE NEXT CHAPTER IS ONLY A MOUSE CLICK AWAY!

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE - One of Our Own Goes Home

EDDIE - Permeated by pandemonium, the police station, just hours earlier the scene of joy, laughter, charity, camraderie, was now an ugly mess. The children were being rounded up by their caretakers to go back to the orphanage, our assailant was booked for takin' hostages, double homicide (yeah, the rookie uniform cop died instantly) and several counts of attempted murder, me-n-Mike included. I got shot in the hand and it didn't hurt much, but it was bleedin' pretty good. Turns out it was an exit wound, piercin' the back of the hand, then exitin' through an area right below the palm. Holy stigmata. Me-n-Mike called out to each other - "ya been hit bad?" I showed 'im my exit wound and he was pretty lucky, too, only gettin' the back of his neck sliced. I guess our shooter just wanted the two of us outta the way so she could plug her husband. Shooter - her husband. Sorry, after ev'rything that went down I can't bring myself to think of who they are, it just rips me apart too much. If I just think of them as strangers, treat 'em both just like any other bad guy and victim, I can get through this. It's like the worst punch in the face I could ever take.

Me-n-Mike were treated on the scene, bandaged up and all, vitals checked, stuff like, do we know who we are and that kinda thing. I knew. I knew all too well. We drove ourselves to the hospital since we weren't so bad off, I had to be checked for possible nerve damage. Your hero is here to say there was none. The caliber of bullet was too small to do any real damage - yeah, it hurt like no one can say, they all do, I'm not immune or anything, and Mike isn't either, but nothin' hurt as much as what really went down today.

We were released and went back to the scene of the crimes. The boys hung purple buntin' outside the station and the news was quickly spread - 23 year-old Anthony O'Brien, son of Italian and Irish immigrants, gunned down while tryin' to stop a shootin' spree. The so-called Chief was in surgery, but it looked good - he was gonna make it. We had to talk to 'im at some point, maybe even try to get 'im to resign, or somethin'. It was the right thing to do. Save face. Maybe if he admitted what's goin' on-n-took his lumps like a man, he won't be real happy for a while, but he'll be livin' honestly. Maybe he could start over again somewhere, I dunno.

MIKE - Me-n-Eddie turned out okay, went back to the police station and saw the buntin' hangin' out in front. O'Brien's wake was to be the on the 26th and the funeral the next day. Me-n-Eddie was asked to be pallbearers which was a hell of an honor for us both. They'd dress us in full-dress uniform. On the drive home from the station, though, I tried to bring this up to try to cheer Eddie up, but it was no use. He was cryin' all the way home. I rubbed his leg as I drove and he put his hand on mine and sometimes looked at me. Aw, God help 'im, the poor boy was all broken up, it choked me up, too, seein' him like that. I'm kinda chokin' up just recountin' this. He didn't talk, but he spoke volumes, if ya take my meanin'. Red, puffy eyes, wet cheeks, quiverin' lips. None of that was for 'imself, it was all for the boy-cop, the dame in the bathroom, the kids, that this would happen on a day like today, the sense of betrayal. When we got back home, the poor boy was just fallin' apart. We got in, took our coats off, Eddie caught me lookin' at 'im as if to say "I understand", and he threw his arms around me and sobbed "Oh, God, Mike" and sobbed heavily. I kissed his neck a few times in between sayin' "it's okay - it's gonna be okay".

"How can you say that?"

"They got 'er. She's not gonna get off all that easy. Me-n-you-n-O'Brien saved a bunch-a lives - the kids, the social workers, the Chief."

"What O'Brien's family? My God, he was only 23 years old, same age as me! That coulda been me! It SHOULDA been me!"

"Whoa, wait a second there - whaddya mean it shoulda been you!"

"He's a cop, he's got people who love 'im, guys who are gonna miss 'im."

"And you don't? - Eddie, my love, don't ya know what that'd do to me if you died in there? I'd never be the same."

"Neither will his people."

"Which proves only one thing - it just wasn't your time is all. I mean, you're a detective and a damned good one, too, but this is one mystery that ain't ever gonna be solved until ya meet yer maker. He was brave, he threw himself at her when she was firin' away. Ya never know what's in store for ya. You never know - you could go for years without anything happenin' to ya - you could be a really old fart like me who happens to see some boy wonder holdin' his own with a couple-a thugs in some alley. Ya just never know."


Me-n-Eddie reported to the police station the morning of the funeral and were given dress blues to wear as pallbearers. Some of the boys who survived the massacre the other day came up to us - we had some fans, as it turns out.

"I didn't get the chance to say so earlier, but it was really cool to have you guys at Toys for Tots."

"Yeah, the two of ya really did a good thing - you guys really saved the day."

"Yeah, Tony was a good guy. We've all been buddies in the Academy and somehow found ourselves in the same precinct as luck would have it."

Another blue boy snickered, "yeah, like the Fightin' Sullivans. Who knew that'd happen to us."

"Can I tell ya somethin', Detective Robinson?"

"Only if ya call me Eddie."

"Okay, Eddie. That was good what ya said about us to the Chief. Us guys in uniform, we don't really think people appreciated us. We all became cops 'cuz we care about this town and we wanna do the right thing by it. When that uniform goes on ev'ry day, I feel like I'm makin' a diff'rence out there, and it was cool of ya to go to bat for us. Man, I'm just sorry we didn't all leap in there when the shootin' started."

"I was freaked out - our boss's wife was pointin' a piece at us, I couldn't believe it, I didn't know what to do, but Tony sure did."

"We mainly just patrol traffic and parkin' and stuff like that, our beat's been pretty routine for the most part. None of us ever got hit before, I know I sometimes get a little nervous about that, ya know. Am I goin' home at the end of my shift, that kinda thing."

Eddie tightened his lip and nodded his head a little. He struck the pose, spread his legs, crossed his arms and just told like it is.

"Hey, I'll tell ya somethin'. Lookin' down the barrel of a cold steel piece, you can see the finger goin' back slowly on the trigger, you hear the pop or the snap, dependin' on if they use a silencer, then BAM - your skin gets ripped up, the speed of the shot knocks ya right over, but ya gotta get right back up and show 'em you ain't goin' down so easy. It always hurts no matter how often ya get it, but ya feel good knowin' ya stopped a slug from hurtin' an innocent citizen. That look of pure hate on the bad guy's face, pumpin' that painful piece of poison, the blood ya shed, it all tells the bad guys you'll stop at nothin' to bring 'em to justice. Me-n-Mike think about makin' it home in one piece, too, but I tell ya somethin' - dyin' in the line of battle only means you did ev'rything you were put here to do. You did good. You did your job."

I was stunned watchin' him tell it like it is. He talked with such authority. He clutched his chest for a second when talkin' 'bout gettin' hit. He balled up his fist and pumped it up and down. He squinted and gritted his teeth when goin' on about the bad guys. I was gettin' real excited, excited that he picked up on ev'rything I ever taught 'im. He started off as a great Boy Friday, worked his way up to bein' a great detective, he's loyal, sticks right by my side, he looks adoringly on me whenever I confront a suspect, or come up with a crimefightin' plan, or when we emerge victorious from yet another fight, when I simply dust off my clothes when I get knocked down. Now I was lookin' on him adoringly, I couldn't take my eyes off him. I was excited - excited when he said "bad guys", excited at ev'ry facial expression, ev'ry gesture, excited when he clutched his fist when wrappin' up his speech, when he stood proud. From a star-struck boy on the street eager to learn about the life - takin' in ev'rything I ever said to him, to an invaluable right-hand man, to a boy I always knew had my back, to a partner, to a lover, to a trusted servant of the people, to a guileless guardian of good who goes out in the world every day, givin' ev'rything of himself.

There he stood - tall and proud in a dark blue double-breasted jacket adorned with bright, brass buttons, his shoulders broad, his chest out, proudly displayin' a badge, crisp, white cotton gloves, pants pressed to perfection, shoes that shined like sunlight, so much so ya could almost see yourself in 'em, all topped off with a cap, polished brim, the back of it wrapped around the back of his head, his hair square-shaped around his neck, runnin' parralel with the jacket collar. He was golden. He wore it with pride. A lump came to my throat when I thought of the injustice of our havin' been denied admittance into the holiest and most noble society on the face of the earth. But in our own way, we still fight the good fight. We're here to serve as long as we're needed, which I hope will be for a long time yet. Crimebustin' is our life.

The funeral was the most majestic thing I'd ever seen. The long blue arms of the law swingin' at their side as they all walked into the church and took their places, a brilliant barrage of blue-boys - broad-shoulder to broad-shoulder - all heads turned to the preacher, takin' in ev'ry word, some bitin' their lip, some sniffin', some heads bowed, and yet, some even smilin'. Smilin' at the memories of meetin' Anthony O'Brien, goin' for a beer with 'im at the end of a shift, his sense of humor breakin' 'em up, family and neighbors alike all sharin' stories of the good he did for 'em, helpin' the old guy down the street fix a flat, givin' directions to a tourist, refusin' a freebie at the 7-Eleven or at the donut shop, sayin' he makes a good buck and just 'cuz he's out there servin' don't mean he's gonna take advantage of the goodwill of the good people of this town. He was a guy with real class. He'd stop at nothin' to save the all them lives at the station during the shoot-out. Me-n-Eddie-n-O'Brien were all for one and one for all for that brief, shinin' moment of justice bein' served.

At the end of the service, the bagpipe players wept out "Amazin' Grace", and I do mean wept. The strains of the notes brought the message home that one of their own was leavin' 'em, only to meet 'em all again on the other side - dunno how much later, though. I remember the preacher endin' the service by sayin',
"We're not saying good-bye to Officer Anthony Thomas O'Brien, for he will always live in our hearts, our minds, and souls, and in the memories of the people he once so happily and humbly served throughout his short career in law enforcement. No, this is not good-bye, it's more like 'so long, pal, catch ya later'".

This really brought about the handkerchief rustlin', the sniffin', the gasps, the catchin' of breath, the tight-lips, the heavin' sobs, the white-gloved blue arms reachin' out and wrappin' around other bodies in blue, the shoulders goin' up-n-down, the same white gloves pattin' the backs of the bodies in blue.

We pallbearers were cued by the funeral director to line up three at each side as we hoisted the casket among a sea of salutes. We stared straight ahead.

The crawlin' cop cars brought traffic to a standstill as we made our way to the cemetery as gapers watched us all make our way down. The burial was more of the same as back at the church, the cryin' comrades, the buzz-cut broad-shouldered blue boys holdin' their hats to their hearts, the bleatin' bagpipes, but there was also the 21-gun salute, and the playin' of "Taps", for O'Brien was also in the Marines before becomin' a blue boy. He was proud of the service he provided in the middle-east, sent home early 'cuz of a slug in the leg. He proudly pinned on the purple heart and went straight to the police academy 'cuz he had good inside and wanted to use that good for further service. Incredible. Just incredible.

Me-n-Eddie went back home and just wanted to be with each other. We made love with such passion, my cock easin' in-out of Eddie, who received it with as much love in his heart as I had puttin' it in. We gave ourselves to each other, and as we came inside each other it was a ritual of true unity, two great guys comin' together as one man, gainin' strength and might because of our love for servin' humanity, our love for good, our love for each other, our love of God.

Bein' a blue boy for a day kinda opened up a can-a worms, but in a good way. I smiled upon Eddie as I told 'im how proud I was of 'im today, lookin' real sharp in dress blues, and the talk he had with O'Brien's survivin' blue buddies. I really love the man he's become under my tutelage, but ev'ry so often, the naive, innocent, awestruck wide-eyed boy who grew up readin' 'bout me in the papers, the the same boy who always looks upon me with adoration, seekin' the truth, knowin' full well I got his back and givin' me his back, too.

He says, "Mike, ya ever feel ya got cheated, not bein' allowed on the force?"

"Don't see why I should, kiddo, why ya askin'?"

"Wearin' that oufit really stirred somethin' up in me. I didn't wanna take it off at the end of the day."

"No good crimebuster worth his salt would".

"Yeah, but they get to put it right back on the next day. We don't."

"Ya know, Eddie, it's a funny thing. When ya dream of somethin', lose it through no fault of yer own, then go off on your own way, do really good there, then get a taste of what ya always wanted, then ya realize that where you are right now is exactly where you shoulda been all the time. Just 'cuz you don't get to wear the clothes, don't mean you're any less a cop than those who do. If I didn't have ya 'round, I'd-a been dead years ago. Who knows, if one of us made it and the other didn't, would we have ever met? We dunno these things. But I do know this, ya wear diff'rent colors on the outside, but your heart and your soul are blue."

Suddenly gettin' an idea, I went out to the kitchen, tellin' my boy to hold his horses. What I was really goin' for was a bottle of champagne I was gonna toast us with if Christmas turned out all right. I was gonna say somethin' like "to the
two of us - a couple-a kick-ass cops, a couple of heroes".

EDDIE - As Mike was tellin' ya guys, I wondered what our lives woulda been like had we made it to the force, and wondered if we turned out all right. Mike, as always, was very comfortin', very reassurin'. I always feel good after havin' a real good heart-to-heart with 'im. That's one of the reasons I love him as much as I do.

I wondered what this idea of his was - he bolted to the kitchen for a sec while I held my horses. I got up and sorta paced around the room for a sec, thinkin' 'bout ev'rything that went down the last few days, 'bout what he just said, and all. Then came a knock on our door. It was the social worker who punched out the Chief's wife at the Toys for Tots, and it was the little girl I told to call me Eddie. Mike came out and greeted the two of 'em. We were happy to see 'em, and all, but wondered what brought them 'round.

"We just wanted to see if you two are okay. Sarah, here, couldn't stop crying, so I thought I'd take her over here to meet the two of you."

I knelt down to her height, "Sarah, that's a pretty name - a pretty little girl, too".
She hugged me 'round my neck and said, "I was real sad about what that mean old lady did to all of you. I was crying for days."

(Holy heck - she saw ev'rything)

It really hurt to hear that, that our ordeal cost her a Merry Christmas. I looked her in the eye and said, "look, Sarah, that's really sweet of ya to say, but there's nothin' to worry about. We all made it through. That mean old lady's goin' away for a long, long time, she's never gonna bother you again."

"What about that nice policeman who got killed?"

"Well, we're all very sad about that, and we always will be, but he's in a much better place these days. He went to Heaven 'cuz his job was done, and he did it good, too."

A tear rolled out of her eye and down her cheek, I softly wiped it away with my finger, "aw, please don't cry, sweetie - it's okay - it's all gonna be okay". She buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed, "I'm so glad you're okay, Eddie."

"Trust me, kiddo, so am I!"

She giggled and kissed me on the cheek. "Will you come back next year? Please say yes."

"I'd be more than happy to, if I'm asked to."

The social worker then collected her and said they're goin' to a late Christmas dinner at the orphanage, to sorta make up for missin' out the other day, and they're gonna be late.

"Can Eddie and his dad come, too?"

(I laughed for a second, her thinkin' Mike's my dad)

The social worker agreed, "yes, if they'd like to. How about it guys? The rest of the kids would really like it, and I'd be proud to have you as my guests after you both saved all of our lives."

I looked at Mike and he said, "sure, be happy to - we kinda do need a night out"

"Then it's settled. Just follow us in your car, we'll be there in nothing flat. I'll see you there."

Sarah and the social worker walked out the door and me-n-Mike were gettin' our coats. I started to head for the door when Mike took hold-a my shoulder and, not believin' what he just heard, said,

"DAD?"

I just grabbed 'im by the arms and gritted my teeth as I squinted, sayin', "sometimes, my boy, ya just gotta take one for the team".

"aw, shut up!", he growled, laughin'. We both laughed - that felt good - real good.