Chapter 23 - Pennyroyal Tea
It had taken two hours, but Brian had finally been booked and was currently awaiting his official one call to an attorney. The West Virginia police were being complete asswipes though and insisting that his one and only call had to be local. Brian, of course, didn’t know a fucking soul in West Virginia. And who the fuck made up these stupid rules anyway? It was the 21st century, people! Why the hell couldn’t he call someone in Pittsburgh? It’s not like it was in another country or even that far away.
After about fifteen minutes of arguing - followed by Brian’s agreement to pay the fucking five dollars it would cost them for the long distance call - Brian was finally allowed to make his phone call.
“Melanie? It’s Brian . . .” Brian spouted as soon as the line connected and he could get a word in edgewise over Mel’s complaints. “I know everybody’s been looking for me but that’s not important . . . No. No, I’m fine . . . Well, yes, I AM calling from the jail in Wheeling, West Virginia - your caller ID isn’t wrong - but I’m not the one that you need to worry about. I don’t care what happens to me. I’ll be fine here for the moment . . . I don’t need your services right away, Mel. I’m not the one who’s in danger. I need to retain you for someone else . . . Yeah, I need you to get on your legal eagle high-horse and go down to Brighton Psychiatric Hospital. Your client is Justin Taylor . . . He’s nineteen, blond, beautiful, and about to be railroaded into some kind of unwanted psychiatric lockdown for something he didn’t do. He’s the one who needs your immediate help, Mel. I can wait . . .”
Late on Thursday evening, Justin found himself once again sitting in the office of Dr. Gillcrest after the police officers had transported him from West Virginia back to the Brighton Psychiatric Hospital in Pittsburgh.
The whole afternoon after they’d dragged him away from Brian had passed by in a daze. Justin had been carted around in police cars for what seemed like forever. First they’d taken him to some local hospital back in Wheeling where he’d been poked and prodded until the doctors there declared him to be physically sound. Then the cops had taken him to a police station where he’d been toted from one office to another, had his fingerprints taken, photos taken and lots of other bureaucratic nonsense done - all of which required very little input from him, thankfully. Then, after all that was completed, Justin had been put back into yet another police car and driven for a long, long time until they’d arrived back here at Brighton where they’d started a week before.
This time though, Justin wasn’t almost catatonic with shock from the death of his mother. He was still a little disoriented after the crazy afternoon and he desperately missed Brian, but he wasn’t so overcome by his emotions that he couldn’t function. He knew he needed to tell the doctor the truth about his mother and the voices. He had promised Brian that he would so that they could be together. And he knew that it was also the only way he could help get Brian out of the trouble he was in because of the help he’d offered to the beleaguered blond mental patient.
So far, though, nobody was listening to Justin.
He’d tried to tell the police back in West Virginia that he wasn’t crazy and didn’t need to go to the hospital. He’d tried to tell the people at the first hospital they’d taken him to as well. He’d even tried to tell the people who’d been in charge of re-admitting him here at Brighton. So far, though, nobody had been willing to listen. He was getting kind of pissed about the way they were treating him, like he was either stupid, a criminal or both. And, by the time he’d been granted an audience with the all-mighty Dr. Gillcrest, Justin was just about out of patience.
“Dr. Gillcrest, I’m not crazy. I know you think I am, but I’m really not. Brian talked to me and explained to me that I’m not crazy . . .” Justin started off, explaining his reasoning once more, only to be again interrupted before he could adequately clarify things.
“Now, Justin. Mr. Kinney should never have taken you out of here. And he’s hardly qualified to make any diagnosis about your mental state . . .” the crotchety doctor pontificated.
“Brian didn’t take me out of here,” Justin insisted, finally letting his anger have free rein. “I followed him out after he saved me from one of the nurses trying to do bad things to me in the bathroom. And he wasn’t trying to ‘diagnose my mental state’, whatever the hell that means. All Brian did was let me talk and he listened to me. Then he told me the truth about what was happening to me, which is a lot more than I can say for you or anyone else here.”
“Justin, I know you think that Mr. Kinney wasn’t trying to influence your actions, but I’m not sure that’s true. You’re not really a very good judge about what’s in your best interest right now, I’m afraid. From what I saw when we had our initial session, Justin, I think you definitely need some professional help. That’s all we’re trying to do here - help you. Now, I suggest you go back to your room and try to get some rest. I’ll send a nurse in with some medication for you that will help you sleep. And then we can talk some more tomorrow morning, once you’re a little bit calmer.”
“I don’t want any medication and I don’t want to go back to that room. I don’t want that dumb nurse touching me. And I don’t need to calm down. I just need to see Brian!” Justin demanded, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to maintain some semblance of control over his emotions before he started to totally panic.
Just as Dr. Gillcrest opened his mouth to further elucidate as to why, in his professional opinion, Justin’s desires had no bearing on anything, there was a loud knock on the door, and a petite dark haired woman, dressed in a professional-looking pant suit, barged in. “Hello, Doctor. I’m Melanie Marcus, and I’ve been retained as Justin Taylor’s attorney.” She handed the gaping doctor a business card and then proceeded to move around the office until she was hovering protectively over the fidgeting blond boy. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to speak with my client alone for a moment, Doctor.”
“I-I-I don’t think that’s advisable, Ms . . .” Gillcrest looked down at the card in his hand, “Ms. Marcus. Mr. Taylor is currently under my medical care and I haven’t yet had a chance to fully evaluate his condition. From what we’ve been told by the police, it’s probable that Mr. Taylor is unstable and possibly even psychotic. I simply can not allow you to be left alone with a potentially violent, mentally unstable patient, Ms. Marcus.”
“I. AM. NOT. FUCKING. VIOLENT!” Justin protested vehemently, swiping his arm at the same time across the edge of the doctor’s desk and knocking all the objects he came into contact with to the floor.
Melanie took a step back, a little startled by the outburst, but then remembered what Brian had told her. She squared her shoulders and turned back to confront Gillcrest, the full extent of her bull-dyke lawyerliness flaring out over the entire room. “Doctor. As far as I know, Mr. Taylor has not yet been either formally charged with any crime nor adjudicated as being incompetent. And, until such time as he has been determined - by a court of law - to be unable to participate in his own defense, he is entitled to the same legal rights as any other citizen of this country. So, until you can prove to me otherwise, Mr. Taylor is entitled to the benefit of counsel. Which means, that I’m fully within my rights to demand that I be given access to my client - in private - so that I can advise him accordingly. If you disagree with any of that, you’ll have to get a judge to issue an order to stop me. And, in the meantime, I suggest you get the fuck out of my way and don’t try and keep me away from my client unless you want to get slapped with a lawsuit yourself, DOCTOR Gillcrest.”
Gillcrest sputtered and protested a little while longer, but in the end he gave up and not-so-graciously allowed the lawyer and her client to have his personal office in which to meet for a time.
“Sorry about that, Justin,” Mel finally turned toward the cowering boy and let her lawyer’s frown be replaced by a genuine smile. “I didn’t mean to come off so cold and harsh - that’s just the lawyer in me. My name’s Melanie. You can call me ‘Mel’. I’m a friend of Brian’s. He called me and basically ordered me to get down here to help you as soon as possible. Are you okay?”
“I . . . I don’t know. Nobody will listen to me. I’ve been trying to tell them what Brian said . . .” Justin hesitated, still not very comfortable around strangers, even if this woman was a stranger that said Brian had called her.
“I know this all seems a bit overwhelming, Justin. I’m sorry you have to deal with any of this at all,” Mel started off, sitting in the spare office chair next to the nervous boy. “While I was waiting for you to be extradited and transported to Pittsburgh, though, I had time to do a little bit of research into your situation. I was able to get a copy of the police report from when they first came and took you into custody as well as a copy of the Medical Examiner’s report. Using that information, I did a quick online background search on your mother. My research turned up some very interesting information . . .”
Mel paused and waited a moment while Justin visibly pulled himself back together. Justin slowly quieted and settled into his chair more comfortably. When the youth seemed to have his emotions back under control, she continued.
“First of all, there are some huge fucking discrepancies surrounding the case built against you for your mother’s death. The police officers who were first on the scene at your house were total newbies and had no real experience with this kind of thing. I think it’s pretty obvious that they jumped the gun. They based their whole suspicion of you on the fact that when they arrived you were sitting next to your mother, covered in her blood and that there appeared to be signs of a struggle. That, along with the note you left for the mailman and your subsequent apparent confession to ‘Dr. Donothing’ here, are all they have to go on. However, the preliminary report from the Medical Examiner indicates pretty clearly that your mother’s death was a suicide,” Mel pulled a copy of the report out of the file she had in her brief case. “See here? The ME clearly states that the wounds on her wrists and abdomen were self-inflicted. Add to that the medical history which the ME was able to dig up that indicated your mother had a long history of mental illness and had been diagnosed as schizophrenic in her teens, and the case against you pretty much falls to pieces, Justin. The only thing keeping you here is your own confession which, if Brian’s correct, you are ready to recant. Based on that, I don’t think these guys have any grounds to hold you here.”
Justin looked at the paper the woman - Mel - was holding out to him but didn’t understand any of it. What he did understand, though, was that she didn’t think that the doctors and the police could keep him here. Finally, after everything he’d been through over the course of this interminable afternoon, it looked like there was some hope. All he had to do was take back the words he’d said that made everyone think he’d killed his mother. Which was still hard to do, because of the tremendous guilt he continued to struggle under. However, Brian had told him he had to explain and Justin was determined to do just that.
“My mother heard voices all the time. It could be very scary sometimes. That night . . . I heard her screaming - she was calling to me for help but I was too scared. I didn’t go help her. I hid in my room . . . It went on most of the night. But then, after she was quiet for awhile, I went to see if she was okay. There was so much blood. . . I tried to stop the bleeding . . . Because I couldn’t save her, I felt as though I had killed her. When the police came, that’s what I was trying to tell them. I’m sure I wasn’t making much sense - I was just so upset. But I know now, thanks to Brian, that it wasn’t my fault. There wasn’t anything I could have done to save her from herself.” Justin explained as fully as he could.
“That makes perfect sense, Justin,” Mel reached out and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and the boy looked up at her gratefully. “All you have to do is say what you just said to me to Dr. Gillcrest, okay? I promise to make him shut up long enough to listen to you. That should be more than enough to get you out of here. And if that doesn’t work, I promise to personally call and wake up every single judge in the county until I get ahold of someone with the authority to release you who WILL listen.”
By the time Mel had managed his release from the hospital the night before, it had been late and, since Justin didn’t have anywhere else to go, Mel had magnanimously offered the boy her guest room. The young man had been so grateful to the attorney for getting him away from the dreaded hospital that he hadn’t had time to worry about what came afterwards. So, when Mel had showed him into the small, kitschy guestroom, all Justin had been able to do was crawl under the covers and happily fall instantly asleep.
Waking up in an unknown place alone this morning had been a whole other experience. Justin’s general fear of strangers and anxiety about the unknown - especially the unknown outside of the small house he’d grown up in - immediately reasserted itself. It took him more than a half hour to work up the courage just to get out of bed. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he’d had to take a piss so badly, he’d probably still be huddled under the covers. However, once he’d visited the bathroom, he realized he was excruciatingly hungry, and then he couldn’t do anything other than venture down the stairs in search of sustenance. Hence, his current journey into the unknown.
Justin warily made his way downstairs towards the sounds of happy, chattering voices. They seemed to be coming from the rear of the small main floor. Justin also sensed a wonderful aroma of fresh baked yumminess of some kind coming from the same direction. He cautiously followed his nose from the landing at the bottom of the stairs, past the living room and down a hallway towards an open doorway near the back door.
Justin took a peek around the corner into the room and the first thing he saw was a young boy with dark hair sitting at the kitchen table chattering away with a tall blonde woman who was standing at the stove. Justin cautiously moved closer to get a better look at the kitchen’s occupants. When he got a good look at the young child, he was surprised to see the little boy looked so much like his Brian. So much so, that he was mesmerized by the sight. As Justin stood there and mentally catalogued every bit of the boy, the child looked up and returned his stare with an equal amount of curiosity. The young child gave Justin an innocent smile, waving his chubby little hand haphazardly, before he ambled over to Justin with outstretched arms silently asking to be picked up. Justin smiled back, crouched down, scooped the boy up and placed him comfortably on his hip. Gus then proceeded to lay his head on Justin’s shoulder, relaxing in his arms.
“Wow, you’re even more cuddly than a baby skunk or a baby piggy,” Justin exclaimed as Gus burrowed his head into the crook of Justin’s neck.
The quiet comment finally drew the attention of the blonde at the stove. The woman turned around suddenly and almost dropped the blueberry muffin she’d recently excavated from the muffin pan in her oven-mitted hand when she saw the scene unfolding in front of her. The sight of her normally shy three year old in the arms of this stranger was pretty shocking. Gus never took to people he didn’t know that quickly. It made the nervous mother wonder just what magic influence the boy was exerting. It was probably the same thing he’d used on Brian - who was notoriously even less inclined to form emotional bonds with strangers than her son was.
“Umm . . . Hello? You must be Justin . . . right?” the blonde woman asked, surprising Justin with her words even though he’d known she was there. “Please forgive me for sounding a little rude, but how in the world did you manage to captivate Gus so quickly? He’s usually much more reticent around people he doesn’t know.”
“I think I’m just naturally good with all kinds of babies,” Justin opined artlessly. “You should see what I can do with a box of Lucky Charms and a litter of baby skunks.”
“That’s . . . interesting, Justin . . . I’m glad to say we don’t have any skunks nearby, though. However, we do have a pretty stinky little three year old boy. So, why don’t the two of you come sit down at the table and have some breakfast. Gus, come to mommy. I’ll get you settled with a muffin and milk.”
Gus shook his head and refused to leave Justin’s arms. He simply buried his face even deeper under the fringe of Justin’s shaggy blond hair and tightened his hold around the boy’s neck. Justin, who didn’t seem to mind in the least, simply walked over to the table and sat down, situating Gus snugly on his lap. “It’s okay. Gus can stay here. We’re still getting acquainted.”
Lindsay decided - wisely - to pick and choose her battles, so she allowed Gus to remain where he was. Instead of fussing over her son, she fussed over the breakfast preparations. She deposited a basket of fresh baked muffins on the table and then brought over an already cut up and buttered muffin with a sippy cup of milk for Gus. Lindsay asked what Justin would like to drink and served him a cup of coffee with a generous dose of cream after the boy had voiced his preference. Then, for lack of anything better to do, Lindsay sat down at the table with her own cup of coffee and muffin and observed the interaction between her son and this enigmatic young man.
Justin immediately busied himself helping Gus with his muffin, taking bits and pieces from the plate and feeding it to Gus like a baby bird. Gus returned the favor by breaking off a piece of muffin from Justin’s plate and feeding the older boy that he found so incredibly interesting. Justin obliged, opening up his mouth widely so the toddler could shove the scrap of yummy food into his mouth. They were both full of giggles and effervescent joy for the rest of the meal as they took turns feeding each other.
Lindsay was very surprised, yet totally enchanted, by the sight of these two feeding and laughing with one another. She had NEVER seen Gus take to someone this quickly. Of course, she found herself almost as easily won over by the young man’s charm and innocence. And even though she’d already heard a lot of disturbing things about this boy’s past from her partner - things that made her hesitant to let the young man get this close to her son - she found she was almost as unwilling to resist him as Gus appeared to be.
“You’re just as sweet and cuddly as your Daddy, Gus,” Lindsey heard the boy saying, causing her to laugh outright at the incongruous description of Brian Kinney.
“Are you sure you just spent the last week with Brian Kinney?” Lindsey had to ask. “Maybe it was some other Brian. You know, one that was actually sweet? Because it couldn’t have been our Brian. NOBODY has ever accused our Brian of being cuddly. Not that he doesn’t have his own, gruff charms . . . but cuddly? Never!”
“Are YOU sure you’re not talking about some other Brian? Because MY Brian is smart, sweet, generous, thoughtful and the most cuddly person I know. He’s the best boyfriend on the planet and he loves me so much that he would do anything to protect me. He taught me all about being happy and having adventures - although I had to teach him about having fun, because he gets so worried about me all the time that he forgets. He also told me all about how much he loves Gus and I know he wishes he could spend more time with his son. He’s pretty much the most wonderful man in the world.” Justin couldn’t understand how this woman could call herself Brian’s friend, when it seemed she really didn’t know him at all.
“Yes, Brian Kinney . . . He was due to be transferred from West Virginia this morning . . . I know that, but I’ve been waiting on hold for more than thirty minutes now and nobody can tell me what precinct he’ll be extradited to . . .” Mel walked into the kitchen with her cell phone pressed to her ear, looking aggravated in the extreme by whatever she was listening to. “No. Don’t you dare put me back on hold . . . No. I don’t want to wait while you check . . .” Mel’s voice rose enough that both Justin and Gus cringed away from the note of anger. “Damn it! They fucking disconnected me. AGAIN!” Mel slammed the cell phone down on the kitchen counter with a scowl before she turned to the rest of the crew watching her and tried to school her features into a less aggressive look.
“Problems, Hon?” Lindsey asked, as she solicitously poured out a fresh mug of coffee and handed it over to her harried partner.
“Yeah. Those incompetent fools in the Pittsburgh PD couldn’t find their ass with both hands and an anatomy textbook.” She complained as she grabbed a muffin of her own out of the basket sitting on the table. “Nobody knows what the fuck happened to Brian after he called me last night from West Virginia. They can’t find his in-processing documents which means, technically, they don’t even have him in custody.” Mel plopped down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and continued to pick at her muffin. “Of course, once I’ve found him, we still have to figure out a way to get him bailed out, which won’t be easy seeing as Brian is a little short on funds these days.
“But . . . now that the hospital has released me, why would they still have Brian in jail?” Justin found the courage to speak up in spite of how intimidating he still found the aggressive bull dyke lawyer lady. “You said that the police weren’t going to pursue charges against me. You said your judge friend ordered them to let me go. So, why is Brian still in trouble?”
Mel sighed heavily before deciding on the best way to explain the complicated situation to the young man. She wasn't sure how much legal jargon Justin would understand, so she opted to keep the shop talk to a minimum.
“Well, Justin, the reason for that, is that Brian is being charged with a buttload of different violations, including Grand Theft Auto. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, he’s also being charged with Obstruction of Justice.” Justin looked at Mel quizzically wondering if she would explain what she meant further. Mel saw the question in his eyes and quickly continued. “What that means is that Brian stopped the police from doing their job . . . or at least they think he did. They feel like he got in the way and want him to be punished for it. And even though the charges against you aren’t being pursued, because Brian took you out the state while you were under investigation for a crime, they feel like they still have grounds for pursuing an obstruction claim. Of course, it’s totally bogus, but knowing the Pittsburgh PD, we’ll probably have to go to court before we can get it dismissed. And, in the meantime, Brian’s stuck in jail unless he can find the money to post his bail. Which, based on what my contacts at the courthouse are telling me, is probably going to be at least $5,000. In other words, Justin . . . Brian’s fucked and we’re not likely to see his ass any time soon.”
“But I miss his ass . . . and the other parts of him too. I wish there was something I could do . . .” Justin pouted.
Justin lapsed into futile thought, knowing that he’d never be able to accumulate such a vast sum of money. He’d have to sell drawings for the next year or more to earn that much. And the only other potential source of income he’d ever even contemplated - giving hand jobs at $100 a pop - didn’t seem all that palatable anymore. But even assuming Justin was up for that means of earning a living, he calculated it would probably take him a long time to find the fifty or more takers he’d need to come up with enough money to free Brian. If only he’d had more practice with those other types of ‘jobs’ Brian had been teaching him about - he was sure he would have been able to earn the money faster.
“Uh . . . Well, if you really feel that way, Justin . . .” Mel interrupted his fruitless musings. “There is one other thing that I think you should know about,” Mel sat up straighter in her chair and, after a meaningful look at Lindsey to get her spouse’s tacit permission to broach the subject, the lawyer continued on with her one other big revelation. “Shortly after your mother’s death, the detectives investigating her death found a large manila envelope in your old house that contained a substantial number of legal documents. Among these documents, there happened to be estate papers and a will.” Melanie paused briefly before revealing the next part of her surprise. “You’re lucky that I have an in with an old college buddy who works at the precinct that took the original 911 call for your mother - he told me that when the documents were examined, it was discovered that your mother had a trust worth millions of dollars, all of which now reverts to you as her only heir. Sooooooo . . . if you’re really serious about helping Brian, the money shouldn’t be a problem, Justin.”
“It’s more than not a problem, Ms. Attorney! Brian can have all of my money if he needs it. I might not be able to help him with his business, but if I can bring him home, then do whatever you have to do to make it happen. All I want is to have my boyfriend back.”
Mel and Lindsey looked at each other, a little disconcerted by the use of the term ‘boyfriend’ with respect to Brian Kinney, but neither had the heart to explain to this impressionable boy that he was suffering from delusions. It seemed cruel to disabuse the boy of his innocent fantasies about a man they knew would never return the sentiments this young man espoused. But, if he really did WANT to help bail out Brian, who were they to protest?
“That’s very generous of you, Justin. Of course, that’s assuming, that the stupid cops can actually figure out where they lost him. I’m going to call Carl Horvath and see if he can find out anything.” Melanie headed off into to the other room as she dialed Carl’s number, desperately hoping that she could finally start getting some real answers.
