Published: 2 Apr 2020

Kids Klub

The man pulled a cell phone from his pocket, looked around the warehouse to make sure his boss wasn’t watching, and then answered.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Culpepper. That kid of yours is in the laundry room with another boy. They were … well, they were doing what you said.”

“Thanks,” the man said. I’m gonna kill the little fucker, he thought.

“Boss? My kid’s sick. Gotta take him to the doctor.”

Gary Walters

It has been nearly five years since I played for the Cubs, but some of the guys still keep in touch. Cyrus had been a teammate, but not a close friend, so I was surprised to get a call from him. Cyrus has a natural arm, and is one of the best pitchers in baseball. He also has a mean streak that plays out in fights on and off the field, which is why he is not a star.

Cyrus asked for a meeting. He didn’t say why, and I wasn’t comfortable enough with my new Authorities as “Protector of Children” to try to read him, especially over the phone. We agreed to meet for lunch near the ballpark.

Less than three days ago, I received the ancient Attributes and Authorities as Protector of Children. Why would I take time out for lunch with an old teammate when abused children all over the world were dying by the hundreds? Two reasons, I guess.

First, I was new to the job and wasn’t sure what all it meant. It had been only a few days since Apollo had transferred most of his Attributes and Authorities to my friend, Caden, and some of the leftovers – those once held by his sister, Artemis – to me. Second, I had promised my son, my soul-mate, my little boy, Nemesis – who is also the god of Retribution – I would not burn out like my predecessors had and I would take time out for myself and for him. Third, I knew I wasn’t the only Protector of Children, just the chief one. I’d not met any of the others, but Dike promised that I would.

Dike? “Die-Key,” that is. She’s the goddess of Justice, and she’s Nemesis’ boss. She’s not my boss, but she is one of the few remaining original gods and a good friend. Finally, I promised Nemesis I would look for helpers, and something I didn’t understand made me think Cyrus might be one. Yeah, that’s four reasons. Go figure.

Cyrus

I knew Gary was working with a big orphanage north of town: Erewhon, they called it. And, I knew he had some connections with Family Services. I was hoping he might be able to help. If he couldn’t, I didn’t know where I would go. He was waiting outside Morty’s Burgers when I got there. I was surprised when he hugged me and slapped my back a couple of times.

“Cy,” Gary said. “Good to see you. I’d almost forgotten about Morty’s. Haven’t been here since you and I brought those two rookies and fed ’em ’till they nearly popped! They were Jerry and Sam, right? Jerry’s done right well since he got traded to the Royals. Too bad Sam got injured; he’d have been good.

“It’s sure gonna’ be good to have one of Morty’s grease-burgers, again. How you been?”

That was Gary – like he was a historian and welcome-wagon put together. Always remembering the important things; always wanting to know how you were doing. And always caring, not just askin’.

“Been mighty fine, Gary,” I said. “How about you?”

“Better than spit,” Gary said.

See what I mean? That was what we used to say to one another, more than five years ago, and Gary remembered. I was feeling better already.

Gary

I didn’t try to read Cyrus, but I couldn’t help feeling what he was thinking. And, I saw in his thoughts he had grown up since I had seen him last. He was mad about something, and he was going to see it through. But he wasn’t going to start a fistfight over it. He wanted to do it right, whatever that meant. I also sensed that he thought I could solve his problem. That scared me, a little.

We ordered loaded burgers which would be served on paper napkins already soaked with grease.

“Hey, Gary,” Cyrus said. “You reckon these’ll slide down okay, or should we ask for a side of mayonnaise?” That was one of the old jokes. We used to tease the rookies with it. Cy brightened some when he said that, but I knew there was still something bothering him.

So, I asked Cyrus what was on his mind. “… ’cause I know something’s on your mind, Cy,” I said. “You’re as nervous as a cat in an old folks’ home – surrounded by rocking chairs.”

Cyrus laughed. That was one of his old lines, and he appreciated that I’d remembered it. Then he got to the point. “I’ve been coaching a baseball team for the Kids Klub on the South Side. There’s one ten-year-old who’s a natural … he’s got the best hand-eye coordination I’ve ever seen. He’s gonna be one hell of a pitcher, someday. I can’t wait ’till we get past T-ball and coach-pitch.”

Cy got a dreamy look in his eye, and I knew he was already clocking the kid’s speed and counting the wins.

I nodded. There wasn’t any position in any sport that required a better athlete than a baseball pitcher, and if Cy said the kid was a natural, he was a natural.

“Problem is,” Cy said, “he’s started falling down a lot. Leastways, that’s what he says when I ask him about the bruises on his face and arms. Can’t see any other part of him, but the way he flinches when he sits down, I’d bet there was bruises on his butt, too.”

I didn’t have to think for more than a second. “Somebody’s hitting him.”

“That’s what I figured,” Cy said. “But I can’t figure out what to do. Thought, maybe, you’d know.”

It didn’t take any time at all for me to decide. “What’s his name?” I asked.

“Andy Culpepper,” Cy said. “He lives—”

“Cambria Green,” I said. “The projects.” I didn’t wonder how I knew; I just knew it, and knew it was right.

“How did you know?” Cy asked.

I thought for a moment, and remembered I’d promised Nemesis I would look for helpers.

“Cy,” I asked. “Is there room in your heart for magic?”

Cyrus

Magic? I ain’t never heard anybody ask a question so peculiar and serious since … well, since forever. I took the last bite of my burger and wiped grease off my fingers to give me time to think. Then, I looked hard at Gary.

“Gary, if’n I can help Andy, I’d make room in my heart for a … a G’mork. What do you mean, magic?”

I must have looked like a spot-lighted deer when Gary tossed a twenty on top of the check, grabbed my shoulder, and we weren’t in Morty’s anymore. We were standing outside one of the high-rise-pile-of-shit-south-side-apartments they called Cambria Green – the projects.

“Come on,” Gary said. “His father’s just gotten home.”

Gary ran toward the building, and opened the door without using a keycard. He hurried me toward the elevator. When we got on, he punched the “18” button. I didn’t wonder until later why we used the elevator when Gary had kind of zapped us to the building.

When we got off the elevator, I followed Gary down the hall to apartment 1821. Gary knocked on the door. There was the sound of a slap, and then a yell. I recognized the voice. It was Andy.

Gary pounded on the door. There was another yell. Gary sort of waved at the door and it crashed open. By this time, I wasn’t wondering about anything Gary did. I just followed him into the apartment.

The boy’s father held Andy’s arm. The man raised his hand to hit the boy again.

“I warned you … you were not to see that little fag! Mr. Evans called me at work. I had to leave work because of you, you damn stupid little queer!”

The man’s hand started moving.

Gary

I grabbed the man’s hand before it could complete its arc.

“That’s enough,” I said. I twisted his arm. His pain caused him to release the boy.

“Cy? Would you take care of Andy, please,” I said, and then turned to the man. “Spare the rod and spoil the child, huh? Is that why you were hitting the boy?”

“Him and that fag friend of his—”

My hand across his face silenced him. I wanted to take his face off and I think I could have, but I didn’t. I didn’t hit him nearly as hard as he’d hit the boy, just hard enough to get his attention.

“We don’t say, fag,” I said for his ears only. Somehow, I knew only he heard me, and Andy didn’t. “Especially not to a child. Start over.”

The man looked as if he were going to object, but cowered when I looked hard at him. I wondered if my eyes sparkled like Nemesis’ and Dike’s did when they were pissed off. I knew I was pissed off.

“Him and his … boyfriend was kissin’ an’ touchin’ each other; I told him he wasn’t to see the little f… his little friend again. An’ I set the neighbors to watchin’ ’em. I got called at work …”

“So,” I said. “You decided to come home and beat him some more?”

“Yeah!” The man was defiant. “What else do you do with kids who disobey?”

“What about ‘raise not thy hand in anger,’” I asked, “or doesn’t that apply to children?” The man remained silent. I could hear Cy talking to Andy.

Cy’s voice was calm, which was more than I could say for mine. Cy’s voice kept me from killing Andy’s father, I think.

“Andy? Andy? It’s Coach,” Cy said. “You’re safe, now, kiddo. You’re safe.” He kept saying it, over and over. I knew Andy didn’t know whether to hug Cy or run away from him, but something got through, and he decided on the hug part. Then, he started talking. He was crying so hard I could hardly understand him.

“Daddy hit me, Coach … Daddy hit me ’cause … ’cause somebody saw me and Jeffie … uh, in the laundry room.”

Cyrus

I heard enough of what the boy’s father was saying to know there was more to it than that. I thought for a minute about how Gary had asked me about magic and then sort of zapped us from Morty’s to Cambria Green. There was something might funny going on, all right, but I had a good feeling about it. And about Gary.

“You and Jeffie … he’s your boyfriend, right? You was doin’ sex stuff, right?”

Andy froze and started trembling and then nearly collapsed. I knew he was afraid … and I felt he was more afraid of what I’d think than he was of his father.

“Andy? It’s okay. I can’t make you believe me. All I can do is ask you, please, to believe me when I say it’s okay. Trust your old coach, please?”

That worked. “Old coach” was an inside joke on Andy’s baseball team: one of the kids early on had said something about how old I was … like I was 15 years older than any of the team members, and to a 10-year-old, that’s ancient. Andy caught that, and giggled. It was a soft giggle, and didn’t last long, but it was a giggle.

I pushed him out of the hug so that I could look at him. “Okay, Andy?”

“Okay, old man,” he said. He giggled again. Then, he caught sight of his father, and Gary. “What’s he doing?”

Gary

I heard Andy’s question. What I was doing was reading Andy’s father, looking desperately for a reason not to kill him. I was looking hard for a reason not to take Andy away from him, as long as I could also find something to keep him from hurting Andy in the future.

I didn’t find it.

The man was a cesspit of religious fundamentalism – a corruption of the Judeo-Christian philosophy. Spare the rod was the least of the evils that governed his thinking. For a moment, I thought there might be an escape clause. If he had been brainwashed by fundamentalist parents, perhaps …

I looked deeper. Yes, he’d been reared in a religious home; however, he had embraced the fundamentalist zealotry when he was 18. He had done so from hatred, not from love. He believed it would give him power over others. He believed the crap about women being subordinate to their husbands. I shuddered when I saw how he had treated his wife, Andy’s mother, driving the woman into insanity and then suicide.

It had been his choice to adopt the fundamentalist dogma; it had been his choice not to look further. It had been so easy to accept the simplistic beliefs … and, when they hadn’t delivered what he thought had been promised, it had been so easy to take out his anger and frustration on his wife and, after her death, on his son. After seeing all that, it was easy for me to decide what to do. Still, I needed Andy’s input.

“Andy? I need your help,” I said. “Cyrus, would you bring Andy here?”

Cy nodded, and then did what I hoped he’d do: he picked up Andy and hugged the boy. Andy wrapped his legs around Cyrus’s waist, and pressed his head into his coach’s chest. Cyrus stepped toward the boy’s father and me.

I drew upon the power that had been given to me to calm myself, and to project reassurance to Andy. I took a deep breath.

“Andy,” I said. “I’m going to ask you a question that is probably way, way too hard. Still, I have to ask it, and I want you to think really hard before you answer. Is that okay?”

The boy’s eyes widened. I felt him thinking. In fact, I’m pretty sure the room got warmer from Andy’s brain working so much.

“Yes, sir,” the boy said. “I’ll think really good … is it okay if I ask Coach to help?”

“Not this time, Andy,” I said. “This has to come from your head and from your heart.”

The boy looked at me. I thought for a minute his eyes might flash fire, but they didn’t.

“Is it something for me?” Andy asked.

I nodded.

“Okay, then,” the boy said.

“Andy, your coach and I can take you away from your father to a place where you can grow up without being hit, ever again. You would be able to be a boy, one who has friends his own age. It’s a place where it doesn’t matter if you love another boy, or not.”

Andy blushed at that last part. I felt Cy hug the boy a little tighter, and knew, then, not only was it okay with Cy, but also he was the right person to be a helper. I paused to give Andy a chance to calm down and think.

“The only problem is,” I continued, “if you decide to go with us, it’s for forever. Andy, forever is a long, long time.”

“No!” Andy said.

I was shocked, until he finished his thought.

“I love Jeffie, and he loves me. I won’t go anywhere unless Jeffie can come, too.”

Cy and I exchanged stares. We both knew how much courage it had taken for a ten-year-old to say those words.

Then, Cy spoke. “Uh, Gary? I know who Jeffie is … he’s one of the boys at Kids Klub. He’s an orphan. He’s allowed to come to the Klub because he was a member before his parents were killed, and the court ordered it and Family Services is paying for it. His foster home … he lives here in the projects, too. I’ve met his fosters. She’s okay; her husband don’t give a sh— don’t care. Well, if there was a way to get Jeff away from them … well …

“Dang it, Gary! I’m just a farm boy from Tennessee … you gotta figure this one out!”

Aiden

Gary and Cyrus both looked surprised when I appeared. The boy’s father was entirely too shocked to notice. His eyes were moving back and forth as if he were reading something, or watching a really fast basketball game. I figured it out pretty quickly. Apparently Garreth had fed back to the man’s mind some of the filth hidden under the surface. The boy, Andy, grinned when he saw me. I think it was the tunic I was wearing. What is it with the old gods they want the boys to wear tunics that didn’t quite cover their butts? I thought they took this Greek thing a little too far. On the other hand, I knew I had a cute butt.

“Garreth? My name is Aiden. Athena bestowed her Authorities as patron of lawyers on me. And before you say anything, I’ll bet I know more lawyer jokes than you do … and I’ll bet I know more blond jokes than you do, too. So don’t start.”

Gary was smart for a blond, and his surprise at seeing me had gone away. I could tell there was something bothering him, though.

“Give me five minutes, please,” I said.

“Mr. Culpepper?” I addressed Andy’s father, and snapped him out of his trance. “Mr. Culpepper, please come to the table.”

The man shuffled to the kitchen table. I pulled papers from my dispatch case and laid them in front of him.

“This one acknowledges you’ve beaten your son and verbally abused him. This one acknowledges a restraining order, which restricts you from ever approaching within 1,000 feet of Andy or Jeff. This one accepts and acknowledges the order of adoption from the Family Court of Cook County … it’s dated tomorrow, but don’t worry about that.

“Sign them.” My voice was ice. Literally. I made him feel as if I were pushing an icicle through his stomach. The man took the pen, and signed. I opened my notary seal, stamped each document, and signed. Yeah, Aiden Smith, Sr. was a real person, and a real notary. He had been my father. He still was, sort of.

“Thank you, Mr. Culpepper. You will receive certified copies of these in the mail. Oh, $22.50, please, for notary services.”

The man looked stunned, and I thought Gary was going to have apoplexy he was trying so hard not to laugh. I held out my hand as Andy’s father counted out $23.00. I reached into my dispatch case (there aren’t any pockets in a tunic), and handed him two quarters.

“Pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

I turned to Gary. “Gentlemen? If you are ready, Jeffrey is waiting.”

Cyrus

I just about shit myself when Gary did that transporter thing from Morty’s to the projects. After that, it wasn’t quite so hard to believe he could blast open a door just by waving his hand at it. I didn’t know what he did to Andy’s father, but I figured that was something different, too. Then, this kid shows up, looking like he’s twelve or so, wearing an outfit that shows off too much of his butt and talking like a lawyer, gets Andy’s old man to sign a couple of legal documents, and then tells us we need to get to Jeffie’s place.

Gary grabbed my shoulder. Andy was hanging on to me. And we weren’t in Andy’s apartment, anymore, but at the door to a different apartment in a different building. The hallway smelled of urine and pot, filth and neglect, and roach turds. Yeah, I grew up poor in the South where there were two kinds of houses: ones that had roaches, and ones that were going to get roaches. I knew roach turd smell. Oh, and yeah, I knew pot smell too. Not going into that.

Gary looked at Aiden, who just nodded. Gary knocked on the door. It was a polite knock. I looked at Andy, whose eyes were so wide I thought he would hurt himself. I squeezed him and whispered to him.

“It’s okay, Andy … I don’t know what’s going on, either. But I trust Gary, and you can, too.”

At first, Andy tightened his arms around my neck. Then he relaxed. I wasn’t sure he was trusting Gary, but he was trusting me, and that was enough, for then.

Mrs. Gordon, Jeff’s foster mother, opened the door. She reminded me a lot of the women who lived where I grew up. She wore a cotton dress that had lost most all its color from being washed so much. Her hair was frazzled, and held in place with old-fashioned bobby pins. Her mouth was set in a hard line, with permanent wrinkles in the corners. Her skin was nearly gray from worry, hard work, and the wrong kind of food.

“Hello, ma’am,” Gary said. “I understand that Andy, here …” he gestured to the boy in my arms “… is a friend of Jeff’s. May we come in?”

The woman looked from Gary to me and Andy, and then back to Gary. I realized she didn’t see Aiden. Useful thing, magic, I thought.

Mrs. Gordon beckoned us in, and closed the door behind us. The stink wasn’t so bad in the apartment, partly because of the cooking smells that came from the kitchen. Partly because it was clean.

“Andy,” the woman said. “Jeffie’s in his room. He’s been crying since he got home. What happened, honey?”

Andy froze. I murmured to him, “It’s all right, Andy. She knows. You can tell her. You can tell her everything.”

Andy looked at me. Somehow, he knew I knew the truth. That was more than I knew at the moment, and I figured I’d better talk to Gary as soon as I could.

“Mrs. Gordon, Jeffie and me, we’re … boyfriends. My father caught us kissin’ and stuff in the laundry room. He ran off Jeffie, and took me home. He was beating me when Coach and his friend showed up.”

I had been right. Mrs. Gordon knew that Jeff was gay … or thought he was. At ten, I don’t know if anyone can really be sure. Anyway, she shooed Andy off to Jeffie’s room, and asked Gary and me if we’d like tea.

“I’d offer coffee, but we can’t afford it any more. The tea is Lipton, stretched out with some herbs I grow in the window sill.”

Gary

“Mrs. Gordon, I think we’d all like that. First, though, I’d like you to meet the third member of our party. Aiden, show yourself, please.”

Aiden faded in rather than appear suddenly. Mrs. Gordon stared for only a second before getting out another teacup for him. She didn’t seem surprised. I couldn’t help but wonder at how strong a person she must be.

“Aiden?” I said. “You seem to be in charge of paperwork and making sure things are legal. We need to talk about that, by the way.

“For now, what needs to be done?”

“Mrs. Gordon?” the boy said. He pulled a paper from his dispatch case. “Here is a court order cancelling your guardianship, and relieving you of responsibility for Jeffrey.”

He paused. “You know the money you’re receiving from the city will stop, immediately. Is that going to be a problem?”

Mrs. Gordon showed a flash of humor when she answered. “You’re a boy and not much older than Jeffrey. Do you think I could feed you for $200 a month?”

Aiden giggled, and then nodded, and reached into his dispatch case. “A few minutes ago, I earned $22.50 on Andy’s behalf. I’d like you to have it.” He counted out $22, and added two quarters. I reached for my wallet, but Aiden stopped me with a thought. It’s not the money, it’s a symbol of thanks for what she’s done for Jeffie. She’ll remember the gesture, and she’ll remember Jeffie, and she’ll be a good foster mother to the next child that comes along.

I had to bow to the superior thought processes of a twelve-year-old, and resolved to keep in touch with Mrs. Gordon. I did, after all, promise Nemesis I’d look for helpers.

Mrs. Gordon went to give Jeffie and Andy the news.

Aiden handed Cyrus a bunch of papers. “Cyrus, you are now in loco parenti de facto and de jure of both boys. It’s a final decree of adoption, with no appeal. The judge knows that your job requires travel, and has accepted Gary’s agreement to provide care and supervision of the boys when you are out of town.

“You’ll need to sign here …” he pointed to a paper “… and here.”

“I’ll waive the notary fees in this case. You’ll receive certified copies—”

“In the mail. Yeah, I understand,” Cyrus said. “Who are you, really?”

I grinned. Cyrus, the farm boy from Tennessee, was challenging someone I knew to be a spirit or a demi-god. Something had wakened in Cyrus. His feistiness was there, but it was under control. I was happy to see that.

The boy, Aiden, was dumbstruck. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he could catch his breath and answer.

“My name really is Aiden. Aiden Smith. My father is a judge. He’s also a Notary Public. I’m really Aiden, Junior. I kind of borrowed his notary seal, but it all works, really!”

He seemed to be trying hard to impress us. He looked from Cy to me and back again. His face was set in a please believe me look. Cy encouraged him to continue.

“A couple of days ago, I was out on the Navy Pier. Way after hours. I was … thinking about … things … then, this really scary-cool woman with a shield and sword and helmet … kind of offered me a job.

“I wasn’t sure what to do. I mean, who’s going to give a 12-year-old a real job? But she did, and she made sure I knew what it was and how important it was.”

“You were on the Navy Pier? And you were wondering about things?” I asked. “Do you know what a trope that is?”

“What’s a trope?” The boy seemed genuinely puzzled.

“It’s an over-used plot device in literature. I can’t count the number of stories that begin on a pier, especially the Navy Pier in Chicago, that involve cute boys about to kill themselves.”

“You think?” Aiden said. His blush told me that my “think” was right. He’d been planning to kill himself when Athena approached him. “I mean, you think I’m cute?”

I laughed. “Yes, Aiden. I do … and so will my son, Nemesis. That’s something else we need to talk about.”

Aiden said he needed to file papers and get certified copies made, but if it was okay with me, he’d come over to talk, the next day.

I turned to Cy. “There’s a lot of things we need to talk about, too. How about you and the boys coming home with me. I know you don’t have a place for them, yet.”

Cyrus looked only a little better than a spotlighted deer, but he nodded.

Mrs. Gordon returned with the boys and we thanked her for tea. She gave Jeff a kiss on his forehead, and then shooed us out of the apartment.

Cyrus

I thought Gary might pop us to wherever we were going next, but we took public transportation. As long as we were on the bus or the El, Gary held onto Jeffie, and Andy held onto me. I kept watching the two boys, and saw the looks they were exchanging. They would look out the window and then slowly turn until their eyes met. Then, they’d giggle, and quick look out the window, again.

It had taken a lot of odd things to get us to this point. Convenient thing, magic, I thought, again. And something these two seem pretty comfortable with. I just wish I were.

We got off the bus and walked a few blocks toward the lake. Andy grabbed my right hand. Jeffie abandoned Gary for me, and grabbed my left hand. The doorman at an apartment building sort of saluted Gary, and held the door for us. He didn’t seem surprised to see me and the boys, even though we weren’t dressed for so fine a place. The boys were wide-eyed and a little scared when a glass elevator took us up high enough to see the lake and the Navy Pier. I thought of Aiden, then. Andy and Jeffie caught sight of the Pier. I don’t think either of them knew what it was until I said something; then, they squeezed my hands. I squeezed back with what I hope was reassurance.

A boy was waiting in the open door. Another 12-year-old; this one was wearing regular clothes. He ushered me and the boys in. I glanced back to see him stand on tiptoe to kiss Gary. Gary caught my look, and blushed. I just grinned.

Nemesis

I caught Cyrus’s thought – that I was Gary’s son, and how did he have a son as old as I looked. I figured whatever Gary wanted to tell Cyrus was up to Gary, so I behaved myself. After Gary told me everybody’s name, and I shook hands with Cyrus and the two boys, Gary asked if I’d take them to shower and find some clothes for them.

“Their stuff will be here, shortly,” he said. “Jeffie’s clothes will likely be clean; but Andy’s, probably not. Let’s see, it’s your turn to do laundry, right?”

I blushed. The first time I did laundry, I put liquid dishwasher soap in the machine. It was a mistake, really. Gary just laughed, helped me clean up, and then showed me what to do. After that, it became like breakfast – we shared chores. I asked Gary, once, why we didn’t have a maid or cleaning woman. I mean, he was rich enough. Gary’s answer taught me something important.

“Couple of reasons. First, a lot of what I do … you, too … is stressful. I can work off a lot of stress scrubbing a floor. I know you like to sweat at the gym, which is why I don’t ask you to scrub floors. As long as you’re working off things, whatever works for you is okay with me.

“Second is more important. We were told we were gods, but we’re still human. A little hard work will help us remember that. If we ever get so far away from what real people do – the things they have to do – we’ll lose our humanity. We don’t have to get up every morning for school or work. We don’t have to worry about where our next meal is coming from. We don’t have to sell our bodies for sex so we’ll eat, tomorrow. We need something to ground us.”

Cyrus

Andy and Jeffie were reluctant to let go my hands, but Nemesis said something to them and they perked up. I figured, then, he was like Gary and Aiden. Whatever that meant.

Gary made a pot of coffee. As soon as he’d poured a couple of cups, we sat at the table. By then, I was pretty much calmed down.

“Cy, I know you saw things today that might be hard to believe,” Gary said. “You said you could make room for magic. Can you also make room for trust? I want you to trust me about things that are as big and important as … well, as that World Series ring you’re wearing.”

That was one heck of a thought. It had taken the Cubs over a hundred years to win a World Series … and it was the year Gary was called to service in the Army and had gone to Afghanistan … after helping us win the Division. He should have been there, and he should have a ring, too. Then I realized what he was saying: what he was doing, and what he wanted me to do were so important, he didn’t miss the ring.

I looked real hard at Gary, and then, I took off the ring and put it in my pocket. Gary got this shocked look on his face, and then he smiled. He smiled, but I could see a couple of tears in the corners of his eyes.

“You do understand, don’t you,” he said. It wasn’t a question, and it didn’t need an answer, but I nodded, anyway.

“You asked me if there was room in my heart for magic,” I said. “Then, you did that Star Trek thing without the sparkles, and took us from a restaurant near the ballpark to one of the south-side projects. I didn’t have time, then, to wonder, because you rushed us into the building and—

“Speakin’ of which, Gary, why didn’t you just take us to the apartment? Why’d we have to take the elevator?”

Gary had been looking at me; he turned to face the window and looked out over the lake.

“Gary?” I said.

“Okay,” he said. “I screwed up … it was my first time …”

Then, Gary took over the story. “A few months ago, Nemesis was given the Attributes and Authority of a Greek god – the god of Retribution. I got some of the same a few days ago when Apollo decided to die, or move on to somewhere we don’t understand. He gave most of his power to a fellow named Caden Hopkins. You’ll meet him soon. Some of Apollo’s power went to me. I got the job of Protector of Children, and what goes with it. I’m not sure, yet, what all that means, by the way.

“When you called me this morning, it triggered something. I knew it was a call for help. But I also got the feeling you might help me. I promised Nemesis I would look for helpers so I wouldn’t burn out like the old Apollo and, probably, the old Nemesis burned out. That’s why I asked you about magic, and why I let you see the magic that we – Nemesis and I – can do.”

“Well, strike me for a rattlesnake,” I said. “You and your boy, here, you’re gods or something? And you need help from me? A farm boy from Tennessee? I’ve seen everythin’ now.”

“I don’t know if we’re really gods,” Gary said, “but we do have the powers and responsibilities associated with the elder gods. There are some of them still around, too. We’ve worked with one – Dike, goddess of justice. We also know a guy who’s the Spirit of Law, and one who is the Avatar of Death. Mars, the god of War, is still around. So are Zeus and Athena.

“And you and I met Aiden, today.” Gary added. “He’s apparently another one of us.”

Since I’d grown up just outside Nashville, I knew more than the average country boy about Greek gods. The replica of the Parthenon, built for an old world’s fair, was a tourist attraction – and a destination for school field trips. Still, it took a while for me to settle what he was saying with what I knew – or, with what I thought I knew. So, I just nodded my head, and took a sip of coffee. And then another one. Finally, I knew I had to say something.

“Gary, I told you I could make room in my heart for a G’mork. Do you know what that is?”

Gary shook his head.

“It’s an evil wolf-creature in a movie I saw as a kid: The Neverending Story. I loved that movie, because it showed no matter how bad things were, the things that were good would win. I also kind of fell in love with the idea that kids like Bastian and Atreyu could be heroes.

“I’d much rather make room for something good, and for a couple of kids, than for a G’mork!”

About then, Nemesis came back with Andy and Jeffie. They were wearing what looked like new school clothes: cargo shorts, collared shirts, knee-high socks, and cross-trainers. Neither of the boys were the same size as Nemesis, but all the clothes fit. They both ran to me to collect hugs and began babbling about their baths.

“You should see Nemesis’ bathroom …” Andy started.

“His bathtub is big enough for three people …,” Jeffie continued

“ … more like five people,” Andy interrupted. “And …”

“…he’s got lots of clothes …”

“ … and all of ’em are new …”

“Slow down!” I said, and then chuckled so they wouldn’t think I was mad at them.

They both opened their mouths, and I was afraid we were in for another back-and-forth, when the doorbell rang. Nemesis skipped into the living room to answer it.

He came back leading two men in the uniforms of US Marshalls. They each pulled a large suitcase on rollers.

“Sir,” one said to Gary, “the boys’ belongings. Will there be anything else?”

Nemesis whispered to me, “Look at them out of the corner of your eye.”

Gary thanked them, and I kind of squinted at the men. Men! Not like any I’d ever seen. Green scales? By that time, they were gone. I looked at Nemesis.

“Did Andy and Jeffie see that?” I demanded.

Nemesis looked shocked. “Of course not,” he said. “I’m just 12, but I’m not entirely stupid! They’re messengers of the gods. Scions of Hermes. They do some stuff for us, but most of the time, they work for Dike.”

The suitcases held the boy’s clothes and schoolbooks and, in Andy’s case, a picture frame with a photograph which he clutched to his chest as he smiled.

Gary

Nemesis had taken Andy and Jeffie to the hotel gym. There were things for kids, including batting cages and a swimming pool, and a quick phone call made sure the boys would be watched and entertained. Not that I was worried. After a few days ago, when he and Apollo had rescued children from a fire, Nemesis had come fully into his power. Anyone who tried to mess with one of the boys would find himself … well, being turned into a pile of ashes was perhaps the best he could hope for.

Cy and I needed the time.

We talked a lot about gods and G’morks, about grief and goodness. We came to the conclusion that somehow, Good would win over Evil, even though we knew that sometimes, it didn’t look that way.

“Cy? I told you I promised Nemesis I would look for helpers. You’re already one, you know, and even if all you do is take care of Andy and Jeffie, you will have done more than most people would.

“But, I’ve got to wonder. When we were in Andy’s apartment, I was about to kill his father. I mean literally kill him. And, I could have done it and I know I could have gotten away with it. But, something I heard in your voice kept me from doing it.

“If I’d killed him, I’d have gotten rid of an evil creature, and kept him from ever hurting another child. I’m hoping the court orders Aiden had him sign will be enough to keep him from ever hurting a kid, again. Whatever you were thinking was what let him live. But I don’t understand why you had so much to do with all that.”

Cyrus answered right away, as if he’d been thinking of what to say. “Gary, there’s a lot of things I don’t understand. First of all, I’m not sure why I called you. I read the papers and I know you’ve got something to do with an orphanage, and I figured you knew something about kids in trouble, but I could have just called FPS, and they’d have found Andy’s bruises and taken him away lickety-split. So, why did I call you?”

I opened my mouth, but Cy held up his hand. “Why didn’t I go absolutely ape-shit when you … what’s the word you used? … translocated us to Cambria Green? And then blew open Andy’s apartment door like the Big Bad Wolf would have given his soul to do? And when Aiden showed up. And the rest of the day, for that matter? Why did I know Andy was trusting me? Why did I know Jeffie’s foster mother knew he was gay? Why did I know I could trust you?”

“There’s only one answer. In The Neverending Story, the Nothing about to completely erase all that was good, when Bastian made the wishes that restored the Kingdom,” Cyrus said.

I must have looked puzzled.

“You’ve got to watch the movie,” Cy said. “For now, trust me on this … like I’ve trusted you. Sometimes, wishes come true. I saw that, today.

“Gary, I’ll never have kids of my own … there’s a gene in my family for cystic fibrosis. It skipped my generation, but I would never want to pass it on. I’ve wanted kids, so bad. When Aiden said that Andy and Jeffie were my kids? That was the best thing that could have happened. Not just for me, but for the boys. I think their wishes came true, too.

“Now, I’ve got to pay that back. You’ve got your helper.”

Aiden

I translocated to Garreth’s apartment on Saturday morning at 9:00 AM. I figured they would be in the middle of breakfast. In fact, I was kind of counting on it. What I wasn’t counting on was hostility from Nemesis. He was standing at the stove, cooking bacon and sausage. He stared at me, and I saw sparks come from his eyes.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” His voice was flat, but it had a lot more sizzle than was coming from the bacon.

Oh, shit, I thought. He’s a real god … “I’m sorry, sir,” I said, trying to sound sincere (something that’s hard for a 12-year-old with a soprano voice, especially when it squeaked like mine just did).

“Sir, I’m Aiden. Garreth said he wanted to talk to me.”

“Oh! You’re Aiden. Oh! I’m sorry!” Nemesis said. “I was rude … there’s no excuse, really. Uncle George pops in all the time. Uncle Caden and Uncle Cyrus will probably start doing it, too, as soon as they figure out their powers. Oh, Uncle Cyrus doesn’t know yet that he’s got powers. Please don’t say anything. Gary said you were going to visit. He just didn’t say when. I shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Um, you’re really cute, too. I was probably a little jealous …”

“Wow, you think!” That was a pretty stupid thing to say, actually. I guess I was too impressed that a principal god like Nemesis thought I was cute … and that he was jealous of me … and that he’d actually apologized to me. Maybe I didn’t know as much as I thought I did.

“Gary’s with Cyrus … in the hotel. Gary and Cyrus, and Andy and Jeffie will be here for breakfast. My job is the bacon and sausage.” Nemesis giggled. “Gary won’t let me do anything that involves flour … not since I managed to get it all over me and Uncle Caden. We cleaned it all up, but Gary still knew.”

The next thing I knew, I was sort of slumped in a kitchen chair, and Nemesis was standing over me.

“What happened?” he asked. “You kind of got pale, and your eyes rolled back and I caught you just before your head hit the floor.”

“Um, um …” I must have sounded like an idiot.

“When did you get your powers?” Nemesis asked. Like Gary, he was smart.

“Three days ago?” I said. I know, I talked like a stupid girl, and made the sentence into a question.

“Three days ago! And Gary’s already got you working!” Nemesis was angry: his eyes were glowing.

Cool! I thought. I wonder if I can …

“It’s not his fault, really,” I said. “Athena …”

Nemesis pulled a couple of soft drinks out of the refrigerator and popped the tabs. He gave me one. “I’m not supposed to have sodas this early, but I think you and I both need a little caffeine and sugar. Tell me.”

Nemesis

I almost wish I hadn’t asked.

Aiden … that’s his real name, by the way … Aiden’s father was a judge with ambition. He planned to become a state legislator, and then governor. Talk about irony – he was the chief Family Court Judge of the county, and maybe the worst father in Chicago.

Actually, that last part isn’t right. He never hit Aiden; he never forced sex on his son. He just ignored him, especially after Aiden’s mother died.

Aiden was unhappy. And he’d broken curfew a couple of nights ago, and stayed on the Navy Pier after closing time. He was standing near one of the railings, wondering if he jumped if he’d really die, when Athena had walked up behind him.

Aiden had seen a light, and figured it was a cop with a flashlight. He was about to rush the railing when somebody put a hand on his shoulder.

“Aiden?” It was a woman’s voice, but it was iron wrapped in velvet. “Aiden, before you die, I have something for you to do. If you want.”

Aiden

“I thought I was going to poop my pants! The way she said that, I knew that if I went over the railing, I would die. But I also knew that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to die.

“I turned around, and … please don’t tell anybody … but I … well, I didn’t poop my pants, but I pissed myself.

“There was this lady standing there. She was like ten feet tall, and she glowed! And, she was wearing a helmet like the Roman soldiers? This red plume, you know? And carrying a shield that was almost as tall as I am, and wearing a sword that could have cut the pier in half!

“I figured I had jumped and I was dead, and she had come to take me to Hell for suicide. But she smiled, and I felt better than I had since … since Mommy died.”

I started crying. Nemesis grabbed me, and hugged me, and we both cried a little. Then Nemesis gave me a kiss on my cheek. That made me feel good enough to tell him the rest of the story.

“She took my hand, and we weren’t on the pier, any more. We were somewhere in Chicago. I could see the Tower. There were boys, hanging around. I watched cars drive up, and heard the boys talk to the drivers. They were offering …”

I looked at Nemesis. “You gotta promise not to tell …” He nodded.

“They were offering sex for money.”

“I know, Aiden,” Nemesis said. “I know.”

“Then … I don’t know where all we went. I almost threw up a couple of times. There were kids being beaten; there were kids up to their waists in mud and muck in some kind of mine; there were … kids making sex movies; there were kids with stomachs sticking out … and I knew it was because they were starving. And I don’t mean Africa … they were here, close. It was awful!

“Then, we were back on the pier. She started talking.”

“She said she was Athena and that she was the patron of lawyers. She said she needed a helper, someone to take care of some of the children we had just seen. And, it had to be someone who could get into the Chicago court system.

“She asked me if I wanted the job.

“She didn’t tell me I’d have powers, but I figured she’d tell me what to do. I was wrong. She gave me powers and then left me on my own.”

“That’s what the other Nemesis did to me,” Nemesis said. “I kind of know what you mean.” He giggled, and I felt a whole lot better.

“So, I went home and got my father’s Notary stamp, and yesterday, when I heard Gary thinking he needed a way to take care of Andy and Jeffie, I got my father’s secretary to type up a bunch of papers, got him to sign them, and … somehow, I was there when Gary needed me.”

Nemesis

I had a bad feeling about one thing Aiden said: the description of the boys, hanging out, offering to sell themselves for sex. I had been there … on both sides. It was a memory I thought was gone but somehow it came back. That meant that I would need it, and soon. I shuddered.

Gary came in the front door, followed by Cyrus and the two boys. Andy and Jeffie ran to Aiden for hugs. Aiden looked a little funny at me, like he was wondering if it was okay for him to get hugs, and not me. I smiled. Gary is mine, and that’s all that counts. I don’t know about Cy, and I sure don’t know about Aiden, but wherever he can find happiness, that’s okay with me.

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