Deviants 18
Here's more Deviants!
Warning: We're starting to develop a plot. Don't worry, I'm sure it'll come to nothing.
Previous Parts in Memories
Deviants 18
The schoolyard rang with the excited cheers of boys and the smack and fall of fists on flesh. Someone fell into the chain-link fence, which shook like wind-chimes all down its length.
Giles didn’t have much doubt who he would find at the center of the maelstrom of healthy male sport. Anxious eyes glanced over shoulders and figures slipped out of his way as he approached, recognizing the air of authority and adulthood. He heard whispered warnings. Sure enough, as the boys parted, there was Lindsey MacDonald, fists and face bloody.
Giles arrived just in time to see a taller, muscular boy slam a large fist into Lindsey’s gut, and then kick the boy to the ground. Giles briefly considered stepping in and breaking it up. There was a slow, painful dragging sound as Lindsey’s palm slid across the rough asphalt.
“Like that, fairy?” the taller kid taunted.
Lindsey leapt to his feet, seemingly propelled upward by his fist. Teeth clattered on impact, and for a while Lindsey and the other boy just pummeled each other. His opponent was staggering drunkenly, trying to get his fists up. Another boy was struggling to get up. There was shattered glass all around. This boy caught sight of Giles first and crawled back. “Guys…”
Lindsey punched again. “Come on! Let me hear you say that again! Who’s a little bitch, huh?” He turned, fists raised, “Anyone? Who wants to call me a whore now? Come on!”
A shrill whistle announced the running approach of the vice principal and a cadre of male teachers. Giles stepped forward, grabbing Lindsey by the arm.
He only then noticed him, and cringed with wild, panic-streaked eyes. “It’s all right,” Giles said cheerfully, “I’m the boy’s parole officer.”
The other two boys were dragged back and separated. The usual gang of snitches and tattle-tales were on hand to give eager accounts of the scene they had done nothing to interrupt.
“And Forrest said… well, I can’t tell you what Forest said, but that’s when Lindsey hit him, and …”
“Yes, thank you, Willow. Mr. Giles?” The Vice Principal frowned at the card he was handed. “You aren’t related to…”
“Yes, my son William goes to school here.”
“Bright boy. Shame he’s been out sick so long.”
Giles didn’t like the tone of this vice-principal. He pulled Lindsey close. “Yes, well, he should be on the mend shortly. If you don’t mind, I should take this young miscreant down to the police station. Fighting is considered a violation of his parole.”
“And what, exactly, brought you here today?”
Not letting go of Lindsey, Giles started walking toward the school building. “Why, I was coming to discus this very delinquent. He was only just put under my charge, and I can see it wasn’t a moment to soon. He obviously needs a firm hand.”
Lindsey tugged hard against his grip. “I don’t want to go with him, Mr. Slater. Just take me to the detention room, all right?”
Giles almost thanked the boy. This Mr. Slater had the hard look of the sort of petty despot who reacts to any plea from those inferior to him with exactly the opposite of what they ask. He pocketed Giles card and said, “All right. You can have him for the rest of the day. We’ll discuss your suspension when you get back, Mr. Macdonald.” He jabbed his finger and Lindsey and stalked off, arms wide to herd the kids back into the school.
Lindsey gave up resisting and allowed himself to be pushed ahead of Giles to his car.
“So, you come to my school just to fuck me?”
“Hardly. We have a meeting with your lawyer.”
Lindsey froze. He squinted, one eye already swelling shut. “My lawyer?”
“Get in the car, Lindsey.”
With a defeated sigh, he sank into the passenger seat. “I can’t afford no god-damned lawyer. I thought you knew that.”
“Don’t worry.” Giles fastened his seatbelt and gave a significant leer. “This fellow is willing to take payment in trade.”
“You mean my ass.”
Giles sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I mean your arse. Bloody Americans have to make everything blatant.”
“Excuse me for wanting to be clear on things after our last arrangement,” Lindsey said, voice thick with anger.
“You had every opportunity to discuss specifics. You weren’t concerned. Too jaded by your long and successful life of infamy.” Giles smirked.
Lindsey shifted uneasily in his seat, noticing that they were turning onto Giles’ street. “Uh… where are we meeting this lawyer? I…” he touched his face and looked down at the blood on his fingertips. “I might have to pass out soon.”
“Idiot. I am your lawyer. I’ve started the criminal proceedings against Officer Angel.”
They slowed, approaching Spike’s house. Lindsey was moving like an animal in a cage being carried into a vet’s office, twisting around in his seat as though searching for an exit. “Just Angel?”
“Officer Pryce requires… something more than legal action. Never fear, he’ll consider Angel to have gotten the lesser punishment.” Giles pulled into his driveway, turned off the car, and turned to look at Lindsey. “Get out.”
Lindsey stumbled out of the car. The adrenaline from the fight had left his muscles leaden and his nerves raw. As Giles walked around the front of the car he stepped back to the rear passenger door. “How… why has Spike not been coming to school?”
“William,” Giles corrected gruffly, “is grounded.”
“And you’re not letting him go to school?”
Giles held open the front door, glaring expectantly at Lindsey.
Lindsey knew he should run, he should go anywhere but into that house. But there was a hope, wasn’t there? Mr. Giles was finally fulfilling his part of the bargain and helping them.
With a soul-sick feeling, he proceeded the man into his house. His eyes immediately fell on the master bedroom door and he felt a shiver.
“William is confined to his room and no, before you ask, you may not see him. Now sit down, we have a lot to discuss and a police report to fill out.”
A low coffee-table was drawn close to the couch, and papers were neatly arranged on it, with a clip board and two ball point pens. Lindsey sat down uneasily.
Giles disappeared for a moment and came back with a blue first aid box. “Lean back. There’s no sense in your bleeding on the paperwork.” He handed Lindsey a damp washcloth, which he gratefully set to his swollen cheek.
“Here is an account, completely false, of course, of how you were attacked by Officer Angel. I want you to read this, and then re-tell it, in your own words, here, on this form. You may use the back of the sheet if necessary.”
Lindsey frowned at the neatly typed sheet of paper. “’On Thursday, the fifteenth of May of this year, I, Lindsey MacDonald, traveled to the corner of Oak and St. Clair on an errand for my father.’” He scowled. “This is crap, you know that? I would never talk like that. And ‘errand for my father’? Like what, cashing food stamps?”
“You are supposed to transfer the stated facts into your own voice and add details as you see fit to authenticate the story. That is what I meant by ‘in your own words’. Have you the mental capability to do that or haven’t you?”
Lindsey flushed with humiliation. He pressed the rag closer to his eye. “Not thinking clear. Got knocked around.”
“Yes, I can see that. Is that typical of this school system? Open brawling?”
Lindsey sniffed back some tears. “Asshat called me a whore. In front of everyone. Said he heard I was sucking cocks by the docks to pay my deadbeat daddy’s debts.”
“And are you going to cry now?” Giles said this as though it was inconceivable Lindsey could be so thin-skinned.
Lindsey wiped his nose and looked at the blood that came away. “Fuck you,” he said, tiredly.
“Yes, well, we’ll get to that later, won’t we?” Giles smiled. “Now do get to work, I have to get everything filed in the correct order or it will look suspicious.”
Lindsey picked up a pen, tapped it against his chin, and, with a shrug, started to write.
Giles peered over his shoulder. “Good. Like that. You misspelled ‘alleyway’.”
“Would I have someone checking my spelling at the police station?” Lindsey replied tartly. “This ain’t the first time I’ve filled out a police report, you know.”
“Of course, silly me,” Giles replied smugly, his hand on Lindsey’s leg.
Lindsey stiffened. “Uh… look, about the, um, payment…”
Giles laughed and patted Lindsey’s knee. “You boys really are incorrigible sluts. I’m only human, you know.” He rested his head back against the couch, eyes closed. “And I’m completely shagged out.”
Lindsey stared at the man, frozen between writing the two f’s in “officer.” There was a soft bump upstairs, a vague sound, just letting him know they weren’t alone in the house. He bit his lip and went back to writing. His second “f” was crooked, but bad penmanship would only add to authenticity in a police report. He pressed on, and tried not to think.
Continued -->
Warning: We're starting to develop a plot. Don't worry, I'm sure it'll come to nothing.
Previous Parts in Memories
Deviants 18
The schoolyard rang with the excited cheers of boys and the smack and fall of fists on flesh. Someone fell into the chain-link fence, which shook like wind-chimes all down its length.
Giles didn’t have much doubt who he would find at the center of the maelstrom of healthy male sport. Anxious eyes glanced over shoulders and figures slipped out of his way as he approached, recognizing the air of authority and adulthood. He heard whispered warnings. Sure enough, as the boys parted, there was Lindsey MacDonald, fists and face bloody.
Giles arrived just in time to see a taller, muscular boy slam a large fist into Lindsey’s gut, and then kick the boy to the ground. Giles briefly considered stepping in and breaking it up. There was a slow, painful dragging sound as Lindsey’s palm slid across the rough asphalt.
“Like that, fairy?” the taller kid taunted.
Lindsey leapt to his feet, seemingly propelled upward by his fist. Teeth clattered on impact, and for a while Lindsey and the other boy just pummeled each other. His opponent was staggering drunkenly, trying to get his fists up. Another boy was struggling to get up. There was shattered glass all around. This boy caught sight of Giles first and crawled back. “Guys…”
Lindsey punched again. “Come on! Let me hear you say that again! Who’s a little bitch, huh?” He turned, fists raised, “Anyone? Who wants to call me a whore now? Come on!”
A shrill whistle announced the running approach of the vice principal and a cadre of male teachers. Giles stepped forward, grabbing Lindsey by the arm.
He only then noticed him, and cringed with wild, panic-streaked eyes. “It’s all right,” Giles said cheerfully, “I’m the boy’s parole officer.”
The other two boys were dragged back and separated. The usual gang of snitches and tattle-tales were on hand to give eager accounts of the scene they had done nothing to interrupt.
“And Forrest said… well, I can’t tell you what Forest said, but that’s when Lindsey hit him, and …”
“Yes, thank you, Willow. Mr. Giles?” The Vice Principal frowned at the card he was handed. “You aren’t related to…”
“Yes, my son William goes to school here.”
“Bright boy. Shame he’s been out sick so long.”
Giles didn’t like the tone of this vice-principal. He pulled Lindsey close. “Yes, well, he should be on the mend shortly. If you don’t mind, I should take this young miscreant down to the police station. Fighting is considered a violation of his parole.”
“And what, exactly, brought you here today?”
Not letting go of Lindsey, Giles started walking toward the school building. “Why, I was coming to discus this very delinquent. He was only just put under my charge, and I can see it wasn’t a moment to soon. He obviously needs a firm hand.”
Lindsey tugged hard against his grip. “I don’t want to go with him, Mr. Slater. Just take me to the detention room, all right?”
Giles almost thanked the boy. This Mr. Slater had the hard look of the sort of petty despot who reacts to any plea from those inferior to him with exactly the opposite of what they ask. He pocketed Giles card and said, “All right. You can have him for the rest of the day. We’ll discuss your suspension when you get back, Mr. Macdonald.” He jabbed his finger and Lindsey and stalked off, arms wide to herd the kids back into the school.
Lindsey gave up resisting and allowed himself to be pushed ahead of Giles to his car.
“So, you come to my school just to fuck me?”
“Hardly. We have a meeting with your lawyer.”
Lindsey froze. He squinted, one eye already swelling shut. “My lawyer?”
“Get in the car, Lindsey.”
With a defeated sigh, he sank into the passenger seat. “I can’t afford no god-damned lawyer. I thought you knew that.”
“Don’t worry.” Giles fastened his seatbelt and gave a significant leer. “This fellow is willing to take payment in trade.”
“You mean my ass.”
Giles sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I mean your arse. Bloody Americans have to make everything blatant.”
“Excuse me for wanting to be clear on things after our last arrangement,” Lindsey said, voice thick with anger.
“You had every opportunity to discuss specifics. You weren’t concerned. Too jaded by your long and successful life of infamy.” Giles smirked.
Lindsey shifted uneasily in his seat, noticing that they were turning onto Giles’ street. “Uh… where are we meeting this lawyer? I…” he touched his face and looked down at the blood on his fingertips. “I might have to pass out soon.”
“Idiot. I am your lawyer. I’ve started the criminal proceedings against Officer Angel.”
They slowed, approaching Spike’s house. Lindsey was moving like an animal in a cage being carried into a vet’s office, twisting around in his seat as though searching for an exit. “Just Angel?”
“Officer Pryce requires… something more than legal action. Never fear, he’ll consider Angel to have gotten the lesser punishment.” Giles pulled into his driveway, turned off the car, and turned to look at Lindsey. “Get out.”
Lindsey stumbled out of the car. The adrenaline from the fight had left his muscles leaden and his nerves raw. As Giles walked around the front of the car he stepped back to the rear passenger door. “How… why has Spike not been coming to school?”
“William,” Giles corrected gruffly, “is grounded.”
“And you’re not letting him go to school?”
Giles held open the front door, glaring expectantly at Lindsey.
Lindsey knew he should run, he should go anywhere but into that house. But there was a hope, wasn’t there? Mr. Giles was finally fulfilling his part of the bargain and helping them.
With a soul-sick feeling, he proceeded the man into his house. His eyes immediately fell on the master bedroom door and he felt a shiver.
“William is confined to his room and no, before you ask, you may not see him. Now sit down, we have a lot to discuss and a police report to fill out.”
A low coffee-table was drawn close to the couch, and papers were neatly arranged on it, with a clip board and two ball point pens. Lindsey sat down uneasily.
Giles disappeared for a moment and came back with a blue first aid box. “Lean back. There’s no sense in your bleeding on the paperwork.” He handed Lindsey a damp washcloth, which he gratefully set to his swollen cheek.
“Here is an account, completely false, of course, of how you were attacked by Officer Angel. I want you to read this, and then re-tell it, in your own words, here, on this form. You may use the back of the sheet if necessary.”
Lindsey frowned at the neatly typed sheet of paper. “’On Thursday, the fifteenth of May of this year, I, Lindsey MacDonald, traveled to the corner of Oak and St. Clair on an errand for my father.’” He scowled. “This is crap, you know that? I would never talk like that. And ‘errand for my father’? Like what, cashing food stamps?”
“You are supposed to transfer the stated facts into your own voice and add details as you see fit to authenticate the story. That is what I meant by ‘in your own words’. Have you the mental capability to do that or haven’t you?”
Lindsey flushed with humiliation. He pressed the rag closer to his eye. “Not thinking clear. Got knocked around.”
“Yes, I can see that. Is that typical of this school system? Open brawling?”
Lindsey sniffed back some tears. “Asshat called me a whore. In front of everyone. Said he heard I was sucking cocks by the docks to pay my deadbeat daddy’s debts.”
“And are you going to cry now?” Giles said this as though it was inconceivable Lindsey could be so thin-skinned.
Lindsey wiped his nose and looked at the blood that came away. “Fuck you,” he said, tiredly.
“Yes, well, we’ll get to that later, won’t we?” Giles smiled. “Now do get to work, I have to get everything filed in the correct order or it will look suspicious.”
Lindsey picked up a pen, tapped it against his chin, and, with a shrug, started to write.
Giles peered over his shoulder. “Good. Like that. You misspelled ‘alleyway’.”
“Would I have someone checking my spelling at the police station?” Lindsey replied tartly. “This ain’t the first time I’ve filled out a police report, you know.”
“Of course, silly me,” Giles replied smugly, his hand on Lindsey’s leg.
Lindsey stiffened. “Uh… look, about the, um, payment…”
Giles laughed and patted Lindsey’s knee. “You boys really are incorrigible sluts. I’m only human, you know.” He rested his head back against the couch, eyes closed. “And I’m completely shagged out.”
Lindsey stared at the man, frozen between writing the two f’s in “officer.” There was a soft bump upstairs, a vague sound, just letting him know they weren’t alone in the house. He bit his lip and went back to writing. His second “f” was crooked, but bad penmanship would only add to authenticity in a police report. He pressed on, and tried not to think.
Continued -->