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What Is and What Should Never Be	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1336 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own 21JS or the characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

Chapter List
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Betty’s Diner smelt of bacon and coffee. Tom and Dennis sat at the counter devouring huge plates of bacon and eggs. Jonathan sat next to Booker, watching the boys eat whilst he sipped at his coffee. He and Booker engaged in idle conversation but Tom remained silent throughout, refusing to respond to any of Dennis’ words or touches. When they had finished, Jonathan offered to pay the check but Dennis refused, not wanting to owe the man any favors. Glancing over at Tom’s pale face, Jonathan rose from his stool. “Your little brother looks tired, I’ll drive you to the Henderson farm so we can see what they say about you staying there,” he said, as he pulled on his coat.
“I’m not little!” Tom snapped angrily. “I’m fifteen!”
“Tommy,” Booker warned, his eyes pleading with Tom to calm down. He turned his attention to Jonathan and flashed him a half smile. “Sorry, he’s not normally this angry; it’s been a long few days.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jonathan replied reassuringly. “I have a teenage son so I know all about mood swings.”
Climbing into the man’s SUV, Booker was grateful for the ride. The snow lay heavy on the ground and walking through it would have been hard work. Within fifteen minutes, they reached a pleasant looking farmhouse. Jonathan parked the car and they walked up to a spacious porch. Knocking on the rickety screen door, they waited patiently for the heavy oak door to open. A rather large elderly woman peered out, her face flushed from baking. “Jonathan Wilson!” she exclaimed happily as she pushed open the door. “Come in, come in, get out of the cold.”
They entered the warm kitchen together. Tom and Dennis hung back, shyness suddenly rendering them both mute but Jonathan took charge and introduced the two boys. “Louisa, this is Dennis and this is Tom, they are looking for a place to stay and some work if you and Henry can offer any.”
Louisa threw her hands up in the air. “Oh my Lord!” she exclaimed, as she rushed over to the two boys. “You look frozen solid the pair of you. Come sit by the fire and warm up and I’ll make a hot drink.”
Tom and Booker found themselves pulled over to a raging fireplace and pushed down onto two old rocking chairs. Louisa busied herself making a jug of hot chocolate, her constant chatter overwhelming the boys who were used to peace and quiet. “I’ll have to speak to Henry of course but there’s no reason that I can see why you can’t have the barn. It’s fully contained, with two bedrooms so you won’t have to share. We’ve some odd chores that need doing. Henry’s getting too old to climb ladders and such like so I’m sure he’d appreciate the help.”
The woman hesitated for a moment as she stared at Tom. Embarrassed, Tom ducked his head so he would not have to bear her scrutiny. He jumped slightly when he felt a soft, warm hand stroke his hair. “This little one should be in school,” Louisa murmured softly before turning to Booker. “Where are your parents?”
“Dead,” Dennis replied flatly, his heart hammering in his chest as he waited for Tom to react to the little reference.
But Tom remained silent, his head still bowed as Louisa’s hand remained resting on top of his head.
“Oh honey I’m so sorry,” Louisa crooned sadly. She pondered for a moment as she continued to stroke Tom’s hair. Booker caught a glance at Tom’s face and he saw that the teen’s eyes had closed and his face was tranquil. Dennis felt a dull ache in his heart for the boy who craved love and affection from anyone who would give it to him. Tears filled his eyes and he quickly brushed them away before anyone could see.
The sound of heavy boots on the wooden porch had everyone’s heads turning towards the door. When it opened, a tall, thin, elderly man walked in. He stopped in surprise when he found his kitchen full of people. He recognized Jonathan, and taking off his hat, he offered his hand. “Jon,” he greeted warmly before stepping up to his wife and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “So Mother, who are these two strapping young lads?” he asked pleasantly.
“Henry, this is Dennis and this is Tom. They’re looking for a place to stay and some paid work,” Louisa answered.
“Is that right?” Henry Henderson replied, as he looked the two boys over. “Where’re you from fellas?”
“California,” Booker answered quickly. “Our parents died so we’re on our own. I’m a hard worker sir, if you give me a chance I know—“
“No need to sell yourself son, I was merely asking a question,” Henry replied in his slow drawl. He sat at the old wooden table and took out his pipe. As he slowly and meticulously packed it with tobacco, he studied the two teenagers in front of him.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly as several minutes passed. Beginning to feel uncomfortable, Booker stood up and gave the three grownups a weak smile. “Thanks for the drinks ma’am, I think maybe Tom and I should be going.”
“Nonsense!” Louisa exclaimed loudly. Turning to her husband, she stared at him crossly. “Henry Stanley Henderson, if you send those boys back out into the cold I’ll—“
“Calm down Mother,” Henry chuckled, “I didn’t say they couldn’t stay, I was just having a think.” Turning towards Jonathan, he puffed heavily on his pipe and a cloud of sweet smelling tobacco smoke slowly veiled his face. “What do you think Jon?” he asked, “I’m not likely to get myself into any bother by harboring these two runaways am I?”
Booker’s heart leaped into his throat and he stared down at Tom in despair. He considered picking up their bags and running but his feet felt as though they were made of cement. Tom stared back at him in fear, his dark eyes huge in his pale, gaunt face. Booker knew he needed to think quickly but his mind turned to sludge and he stood beside Tom, his mouth gaping open, unable to speak.
“I don’t think anyone need know Henry, but I do believe they owe you the truth if you’re going to be kind enough to let them stay,” Jonathan replied softly, his eyes looking directly at Booker.
Henry nodded his head. “So,” he said, as he puffed lazily on his pipe. “Do you want to tell me what you’re running from?”
Booker felt a tugging at his sleeve and looking down, he saw Tom’s mortified expression. “Don’t,” Tom begged in a whisper, “Please Dennis, don’t.”
Louisa dropped to her knees and pulled Tom to her heavy bosom. “It’s okay sugar,” she soothed, “You’re not in any trouble, Henry just wants to know your story, isn’t that right Father?”
“That’s right,” Henry replied quietly. “Ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of boys, as long as you tell the truth.”
Booker’s legs felt weak and he sat back down heavily onto the rocking chair. He turned to Tommy and begged with his eyes for forgiveness as he slowly started to tell their story. When he thought about it afterwards, he was surprised that he had been so open. He talked of the beatings, the sexual abuse and the prostitution. He kept quiet about his and Tom’s relationship, unsure as to how the elderly couple would react. As he talked, Louisa dabbed at her eyes with her apron, occasionally crying out “Oh my boys!” before once again falling quiet. Henry sat silently smoking his pipe, his brow drawn into a deep frown whilst Jonathan remained standing, his jaw clenching and unclenching as Booker described their living nightmare.
When he had finished, Booker looked across at Tom and saw that his lover had covered his head with his arms, as if trying to block out the sound of Dennis’ voice. Reaching across, Booker touched Tom’s thigh but received no response. Ignoring the adults, he knelt in front of Tommy’s chair and gently pulled away his arms. Tom’s tear stained face stared back at him and leaning forward, he lightly kissed his lover’s forehead. The only sound in the room was the loud ticking of the mantel clock and for several minutes, Dennis held Tom in his arms, murmuring comforting words into his ear.
The sound of Henry clearing his throat brought Booker back to reality. Releasing Tom, Booker stood up and faced his audience. Henry tapped his pipe on the table and cleared his throat again before speaking, “I have a couple of rules if you want to stick around,” he said in a no nonsense manner. “Rule number one is the young lad goes to school.”
Tom’s head shot up and he began to protest but Henry interrupted him, “Now, now lad, it’s for the best. We’ll tell people you’re our grand nephews, no one will ask questions. You’ll thank me one day when you have your education.”
Realizing that arguing was futile, Tom nodded back reluctantly. Pleased that he had made inroads, Henry continued, “Rule number two, there’s to be no cussing in front of Mother, no drinking and no drugs and that includes tobacco, agreed?”
Both boys nodded silently; too stunned by everything that had happened to speak.
Henry started to repack his pipe. His arthritic fingers moved slowly but precisely as he pushed the loose tobacco into the small bowl. “Now for the housing arrangements,” he said as he struck a match on the wooden table and slowly sucked on the stem of his pipe. “You can live in the barn. There’ll be no cost as long as this one,” he nodded at Booker, “does odd jobs around the farm. I can pay a little money, but it won’t be much.”
Tom finally found the nerve to speak up, “Shouldn’t Dennis go to school too?” he asked grumpily, still not thrilled with the idea that he was being forced back into the education system.
Henry shook his head slowly. “Sorry boy, but I can’t afford to send you both. It’s one or the other.”
As much as it pained him, Tom knew it would have to be him. He hated to admit it but Booker was far more capable of physical labor than he was. Sighing heavily, he gave a begrudging smile. “Okay, I guess it’s gonna be me then.”
Louisa smiled happily, as she took a freshly baked loaf of bread out of the oven. Jonathan Wilson shook Henry’s hand and after kissing Louisa on the cheek, he made his farewells.
As Louisa bustled around the kitchen, fixing pancakes and coffee, Booker’s emotions overwhelmed him and he pulled Tom into his arms. “We did it baby,” he whispered in Tom’s ear, “We’ve finally found a place to call home.”
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What Is and What Should Never Be