Ties Stronger Than Blood

Things are moving quickly on this. I'll warn you right now--this one has a mother of a cliff hanger. However, I think I'll have the next (and very possibly final) section done late tonight or sometimes tomorrow, so the wait won't be long, if you'd prefer to hold off. Marko had been looking forward to sleeping very late, so when he heard the rapping at the bus door he rolled over and stuck his head under his pillow. "Mark? Mark Talmadge?" Marko burrowed deeper into the comfort of his covers. He really didn't feel like dealing with Ruth this early. The rapping on the door intensified. "Mark, we need to talk to you."

The wrongness of the situation was seeping in. Sure, Ruth often called him by both names when she wanted to come down heavily on her authority, but now that he listened, the voice was wrong. It was too young. As he thought this there was more banging, and an unfamiliar male voice called, "Mister Talmadge, are you all right in there?"

*Oh, man. What now?* "Just a sec." He sat up and grabbed for his pants, struggling to untangle them enough to get them on.

More banging. The man called again, "Do you need any help?"

"Gah, give me a minute--I'm not dressed." He came down the aisle, slipping into his shirt as he went. As he unlocked the door, he studied his visitors through the glass panel. What he saw gave him a twinge of unease. The woman looked harmless enough, but the man was wearing a police uniform. He opened the door and leaned out, hands braced on the sides. "Some problem here?"

The woman was somewhere in her late thirties, with a few threads of gray showing in her almost severely bobbed dark hair. She was dressed in the sort of modest skirt-and-blouse attire, with 'sensible' shoes, that would have drawn Ruth's grudging approval. Everything about her seemed to shout 'serious'--even her smile was sober, if that was possible. She offered her hand. "Mark, I'm Vanessa Wolverton."

He shook hands. "Pleased to meet you." His eyes flicked to the policeman. When the man said nothing, he looked back at Vanessa questioningly.

"This is Officer Brooks."

Marko nodded at him. "Pleased to meet you, too." He paused. "Why am I meeting you? Is something wrong?" The unease grew. "Nothing's happened to John, has it?"

"John would be your grandfather, yes? No, as far as I know, he's fine. We wanted to talk to him, also, but your grandmother tells us that he's on the road to inspect your next concert arrangements."

Marko frowned. "That doesn't sound right. Ruth never trusts him to set things up. Are you sure...?"

"Yes, she assured us he was perfectly fine when he left this morning," Vanessa interrupted. "I need to ask you to come down to the police station with us for a talk."

The unease was edging toward alarm. "Why? If there's nothing wrong, why do you need to talk to me? Something has happened to John, hasn't it?"

The policeman spoke up. "Like she said, there's nothing happened to your grandfather."

"Then why can't you just tell me what this is about?"

Vanessa said, "We need to have this discussion somewhere... neutral."

Marko's expression tightened. "Am I under arrest?"

"No! No, of course not!" Vanessa said hastily. "Do you feel as if you've done anything that would deserve arrest?"

Marko stared at her. The woman's tone was solicitous, but there was a sharpness in her eyes that made Marko suspicious. He'd seen something akin to that look in the eyes of many preachers who were counseling. It said, 'You poor, hurt creature. I know you don't want to admit your pain and folly, but it isn't your fault, and I can help you.' "I'm under age. I'm not going to the police station without my grandfather."

"It's all right--your grandmother has given permission," the officer assured him.

"Oh, I just bet she has!" Marko snarled. "Look, I'm not holding this against you two--I'm sure you mean well--but you don't know Ruth. You don't know my situation. Believe me, whatever she told you, she's trying to use you to get something she wants."

"Marko, your grandmother loves you, and is very concerned about you," said Vanessa patiently. She held out her hand. "Just come with us. I'll explain everything, we'll get your side of the story, and we'll go on from there."

Marko took a step back. "No. No, if I'm not under arrest, I'm not going anywhere. If you need to talk that badly you can come on the bus. We have plenty of seats."

Vanessa and the officer exchanged looks. He shrugged. "It's up to you. It'll be more official if it's at the precinct, but I don't think that doing it here will hurt anything."

"I suppose so. We do some interviews in the home, and if he feels more comfortable, he might be more open." They mounted the steps.

Marko led them toward the back of the bus, then took a seat. Vanessa sat opposite him, and Officer Brooks took a seat on the other side of the aisle. Marko folded his arms and began, "Okay, I know what he is," he tilted his head toward Brooks, "and I know your name, but I don't know what you are. I guess if you were police you'd have told me already."

"I'm an investigator with Child Protective Services, and..."

"Shit!" Marko shot to his feet, hands clenched into fists. "What did she say? What did that bitch tell you?"

Brooks half rose, saying sharply, "Calm down!" Marko stared at him, wild-eyed. "I mean it, son--get hold of yourself!" His hand was on the cuffs dangling at his belt. "We only want to get to the bottom of this. We're on your side."

Marko sat down slowly, but he was still trembling. *Why am I so shocked? She pretty much told me that she'd hurt someone I loved if I didn't give her what she wanted. I can't tell them that right off--they'd never believe it. I have to find out what she told them.* He took a ragged breath. "Okay. Sorry. What can I say? She pushes my buttons." He cleared his throat. "Now will you tell me what's going on?"

Vanessa clasped her hands. "Very early this morning, your grandmother reported that she believed that you'd been molested--that you've been systematically molested for some time--possibly years."

"I... I just..." He swallowed. "I'm sorry. That's just so... obscenely ridiculous. I mean, as much for the idea of her being that concerned as for the chance that it could have happened. That woman has watched me like a hawk from the moment she got her claws into me. There wouldn't have been a chance of my being tampered with and her not knowing it."

Vanessa shook her head sadly. "You'd think that would always be the case, but it isn't. Abuse can be shockingly easy to cover up, especially when it's done by someone that the family knows, and the child trusts--even loves."

Marko sat up very straight. "She sent John away on purpose." He pounded his fist against his thigh. "I can't believe how low she is. She isn't even giving him a chance to defend himself. Not that he's ever defended himself against her, but he... he wouldn't want me subjected to this crap. He'd stand up on that. He's never touched me, do you hear? The very idea is... is fucked up beyond belief. If you just knew him..."

"Marko, calm down," Vanessa protested. "No one is accusing your grandfather of anything. He's been victimized in this, too--had his trust violated."

Now Marko was even more confused. "I don't understand."

"You've worked... well, actually lived, very closely with the other members of your group for some time, years in some cases?" Marko nodded warily. "Has Luther Prince ever behaved in an inappropriate manner? Touched you in ways that made you uncomfortable? Talked to you about sex in a provocative way? Has he..."

Marko knew that his mouth was hanging open in utter shock. That was the only reason she got as far as she did. "Stop it! I... Luther? Luther? Are you out of your minds?"

"No need to raise your voice," said Officer Brooks. "Everyone here is trying to help you, Mark."

"Marko. I'm Marko, okay?" He closed his eyes briefly. "Of course it's not okay. Nothing is okay."

Vanessa was watching him with a sympathetic expression that set Marko's teeth on edge. "I know that things are awful right now, have been awful for a long time, but you have to believe me, Mark." She put a hand on his knee. "You're going to get through this, and I'm going to help you. You're not alone anymore."

"Have you listened to anything I've said? Maybe I haven't been clear enough. Luther never touched me. He's one of the sweetest, most decent people I've ever known. He'd cut his own throat before he did anything improper to me. No one has ever..." He stopped. The small smile he gave her was hard, and looked far too cynical for someone his age. "I tell a lie. I AM sexually active--but just barely, and not with Luther. Never with Luther."

"Denial is a very natural part of the process, Mark. But you haven't done anything wrong. You don't have to keep the secret."

"Do you have any idea how fucking ignorant and patronizing you sound? What's your native language? Nothing--happened. I don't know how to say it any clearer." He rubbed his face. "Look, I don't suppose I'm going to be able to convince you, but I'm not going to tell you what you so obviously want to hear. I'm seventeen, I'll be of age soon, and what I do with my body is none of your business."

"Nice try, Mark," said Brooks. "Your grandmother said that he's gotten a hold over you, and you'd probably lie to protect him. We happen to know that you're only fifteen, and that makes it very serious."

Again Marko gaped. "She told you I was fifteen?"

"Yes. Mark, claiming you're older won't protect this man."

"Is that why you aren't listening to me--I'm still underage? What? You think that when someone turns eighteen or twenty-one suddenly a switch flips--and they're competent? I'm not stupid. I know what's happened and hasn't happened to me. Believe me, if I'd been molested, I'd know it."

"I understand, really. Many abused children become protective of their abusers. Even though they're being used, it gives them a sense of being loved and needed. They may even find physical pleasure in the acts, but the damage comes from..."

"Shut up! For the last time, Ruth lied to you. She lies on all kinds of levels. Seventeen, man--almost eighteen, and almost out of here. That's what this is all about." He saw that their response, and his face darkened. "And you're going to believe HER. I don't guess she showed you my birth certificate?"

"No, that wasn't necessary," said Vanessa. "She didn't have it at hand, but she can get it to us later. In a case like this we need to move quickly--remove the threat."

"Remove--? What have you done?" Marko asked ominously.

"Don't fly off the handle," warned Brooks. "It's SOP in these situations to talk to the child involved and the accused at the same time, so that we can be sure there's no intimidation or story collaboration." Brooks glanced out the window, and said, "I see that the patrol car hasn't left yet. They'll be running him to the station in a minute for interview. I can't understand why they haven't left yet..." Marko bolted out of his seat and headed for the door. "Wait a minute!" Brooks went after him. "You need to stay out of the way, kid. This part of it doesn't concern you."

"He's my friend, you jerk! He's going to think..."

He'd stepped out onto the lot, and now he noticed the patrol car parked in front of Luther's room. The room's door was closed, but now that he was outside, Marko could hear Luther's voice, high pitched and distressed. "But I didn't! I swear, I never touched him. I wouldn't hurt that boy. I love him." Someone must have said something, and Marko could almost hear the nasty tone and words that must have elicited the next pained shout, "No! That... that's hidious! Not like that. He's like my own son... Let go of me!"

Marko ran toward the room, but Brooks was right behind him, and grabbed his arm. "Stay out of it!"

Marko tried to shake him off. "He's scared! Fuck, he's terrified. Let me go to him."

"You'll get a chance to confront him later."

"Confront?"

"Look, I don't know what's going on in there. The men are just supposed to take him back to the office for a formal interview. They didn't even have an arrest warrant yet. He must be getting upset, and l..."

"Oh, that's surprising. Of course he's upset, you stupid asshole. It sounds like he's hysterical. You better fucking pray he doesn't have a heart attack, or I swear you and this entire town won't know what the fuck hit you."

As they spoke, the sound of an altercation drifted from the room. Strange voices ordered Luther to calm down, to sit--and finally to stop struggling. All the while Luther's cries were becoming more frantic, losing coherence. "I can't! No, I never hurt anyone. Please, don't. My family will... John! Where's John? Oh, dear Lord, don't punish me like this. All I ever did was love him..."

Marko looked past Brooks, and saw that the Child Services woman had exited the bus. When she heard the last few words, she looked at Marko with an expression that was a sick combination of pity and triumph. She might as well have said, "You see? It all comes out in the end, so you might as well admit it now."

The door opened, and two uniformed policemen emerged, with Luther between them. His hands were cuffed behind his back, and he'd gone limp. They were half carrying, half dragging the small man. Luther had always been a neat, careful man, and now his hair hung in his eyes, his shirt gaped, looking as if several buttons had been torn away.

Marko's stomach lurched when he saw that the older man was sobbing. His face should have been flushed from the tears and shouting, but he was alarmingly pale. Then Luther caught sight of him, and seemed to be revitalized. He got his feet under him and tried to move toward the boy. "Mark!"

Mark tried to throw Brooks off, but the cop moved quickly, looping an arm around his throat from behind. "Stop it, kid! Let them handle him--it's not safe."

*The whole world has gone insane,* Marko thought, feeling a little dazed.

As if to prove this, gentle Luther screamed, "Don't hurt that boy!" He started struggling. "Let him go."

His escorts suddenly found that they were having a much harder time holding on to him. One of them growled, "Spray!"

"No!" Marko shouted. "Luther, calm down--I'm all right! Stop fighting with them, or they'll mace you. Please!"
Luther stopped, panting. "I'm okay, really. Luther, please. I don't want you to get hurt."

Luther's expression crumpled even further. "Mark, the things they accused me of."

"God, I'm so sorry."

Luther looked confused, but then he shook his head. "You didn't cause this. You couldn't have. I know you, Mark. You don't have this sort of evil in you. Officer, please let that boy go."

"Are you going to act right?" asked Brooks.

Marko bared his teeth. "I won't attack anyone, if that's what you mean." *At least not in front of you.* Brooks let Marko go, but watched him closerly. "Where's Ruth? He has a right to face his accuser."

"That's in trial," said Vanessa. "Perhaps it won't come to that. Sometimes these things can be settled quietly."

"So his life gets ruined with a whimper instead of a bang? That's big of you." Marko noticed that most of the doors that ran along the side of the motel had opened, and people had stepped out onto the sidewalk to observe. There was a lot of whispering. Cars, seeing the crowds and police car, slowed down to a crawl as they passed. "But I think you're already a little late for that discreet business."

"This needs to be taken off the street," said Brooks. "We can get him in a quiet room at the station and let him calm down a little before we talk to him."

Marko snorted. "Yeah, right. Police stations are so soothing."

Vanessa came closer and tried to take Marko's arm. "While they're doing that, we'll have time to get a doctor to look you over."

"What? You don't honestly think I'm going to let a doctor poke and prod me, looking for proof of those filthy lies?"

Vanessa looked sad. "Mark, avoiding it will only drag this out. If you have nothing to hide, then you shouldn't mind."

"Oh? Let me ask you something. If someone went to the police and said 'Vanessa got raped', and you knew you hadn't, and the person they accused was the sweetest, gentlest person you knew, but they said, 'Well, we don't believe you, so just strip naked and let this perfect stranger peer up inside you to prove it to us', would you mind?"

She was silent for a moment, then said, "This arguing isn't accomplishing anything. We don't need the exam to proceed, but it would help."

"I'll save you some time. I've had sex, okay? Gay sex. I had it last night, and I had it good and hard. I bled a little." She was flinching, but Marko was beyond delicacy, and if vulgarity would get the message over better, so be it. The police were shuffling, their expressions ranging from embarrassed or disgusted through titillated. "It was my choice, and it damn sure wasn't with Luther." He swallowed. "It was with my chosen partner." He gave Luther an apologetic look. "With... with someone I love."

To his eternal gratitude, a hint of compassion, understanding, and love broke through Luther's distress. It almost broke Marko's heart. Luther was happy for him. In the midst of his own horrible confusion and despair, he was happy that Marko had found someone. "Oh, Mark..." he said softly.

"Loyalty is wonderful," said Vanessa heavily, "but not when it perpetuates an unhealthy situation. If Luther really does love you, he'll be willing to admit what's been going on, for your sake."

"Get him to the station," Brooks ordered. "This has already turned into a circus--no need to make it Ringling Brothers."

The officers hustled Luther to the patrol car. "Mark, where's John?" Luther called plaintively. "John will explain everything. Please, Mark."

"Luther, just... Just don't say anything to them, okay? Name, rank, and social security number. I'll get hold of John as fast as I can and we'll get this sorted out."

Luther was crying again as they opened the back of the car. "Oh, God, what if he thinks I did what they say?"

"Don't say that, Luther. You know better." As one of the policeman pushed Luther's head down, herding him into the car, he raised his voice. "HE knows better." The police got in and they drove off. Marko turned on Vanessa and Brooks and growled, "Do you people kick puppies and frighten babies on your days off?"

"Look, why don't you make this easier on everyone concerned?" said Brooks. "Come down to the station and make a formal statement."

"Why? Will you listen any better there than you have here? I'm not going anywhere without my grandfather and maybe a lawyer. I'm going to beg Luther to sue your ass off. I hope he gets property that's going to belong to your descendants."

"If you won't, you won't," said Vanessa heavily. "Just realize that isn't going to stop this. The wheels have already been set in motion." She went to the remaining patrol car with Brooks. Just before she got in she said, "Work with us, Mark. There's no reason why this has to be ugly."

As she drove away he thought, *It's already ugly, you stupid cow. It's as ugly as home made sin.*