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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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Dennis Booker leaned against the cold brick building as he panhandled for loose change. At sixteen, he was a hardened, streetwise runaway. He had left his abusive home life at the tender age of thirteen, preferring the harsh life of the streets to the constant beatings and abuse he received from his mother’s many boyfriends. In his short life, he had seen and experienced far more than most would ever want to. Known as Booker within the local runaway community, he was fiercely protective of the younger, more vulnerable children of the streets. More often than not, he would put himself in unnecessary danger by selling his own body and giving the money to another teen, rather than see them risk their own lives. Many a runaway turned up dead, beaten to death by an overzealous john. It was the reason Booker tried to discourage prostitution among those he considered his responsibility. But the need to survive always overrode the need to protect one’s body and all of the teens on the street resorted to prostitution at one time or another.
Pushing back his dark unruly hair, he lit a cigarette that he had managed to bum off a client and casually observed the stream of people hurrying by. His trained eye immediately spotted Tom as he scurried past. Booker knew the look; Tom had a dazed almost catatonic expression as he clutched a bag possessively to his chest. Throwing down his butt, Dennis began to follow a few feet behind, deftly weaving in and out of the Friday night crowd in an attempt to keep his target in sight. He observed Tom enter a busy Burger King, so he hung back and waited.
Managing to find a table, Tom sat down and within moments, he had devoured his meal. Licking his lips, he picked up his bag and walked out. It was now late in the evening and he was desperate to find a place to sleep. He was used to sleeping rough but not in a bustling metropolis. His eyes scanned back and forth, as he searched for a suitable place to bed down for the night. Spying a narrow alleyway, he cautiously entered. Walking slowly down the uneven footpath, he heard footsteps behind him. As his heart began to pound, he wound the strap of his holdall around his arm and holding on tightly he quickly spun around. With a wild yell, he hit the figure behind him with the full force of his bag.
Booker fell to the ground, emitting a loud oomph as he hit the pavement. Tom stood over Dennis’ prone body, his bag raised above his head in readiness of an attack. Sitting up carefully, Dennis smiled as he held his hands up in mock surrender. “Whoa, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he cajoled, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Slowly lowering his arms, Tom stared back suspiciously. “What do you care?” he asked, his voice sounding shakier than he would have liked.
Keeping his hands out in front of him, Booker rose to his feet. He quickly took in Tom’s dirty, disheveled appearance and the bruised eye that was still a vivid shade of red. Using a soothing tone, he attempted to connect with the frightened runaway, “I’m a runaway, the same as you but I’ve been around a lot longer. If you stick with me and mine, I’ll keep you safe. There’s a group of us who hang out on the corner of forty-second and ninth.”
Distrust still shone out of Tom’s eyes but he was tired and close to tears from the emotion of the day. Feeling defeated and alone, his shoulders sagged and a strangled sob escaped his throat. Dropping his bag, he covered his face with his hands, unable to stem the flow of tears. He felt strong arms pull him into an embrace and at first, he fought against it. But Dennis’ arms remained tight around his body and he sank into the comfort, allowing his imagination to pretend that it was Doug’s arms hugging him. As his anguish slowly subsided, Booker released his hold and stepped back. Embarrassed, Tom kept his head down as he wiped at his face with his palms. When he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, he looked up and gave a shy smile.
Dennis’ heart ached at the site of the pretty teenager standing in front of him. He slowly returned the smile as he squeezed Tom’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay to cry. Crying means you still feel something and that’s good, right?”
Tom nodded, too weary to argue. But he was not sure he wanted to feel anything anymore. Feeling was just too damn painful.
Booker dropped his hand and offered it to Tom, “Dennis Booker, but most people just call me Booker.”
“Tom McQuaid,” Tom replied as he shook Dennis’ hand.
“Can I call you Tommy?” Booker asked, thinking that it suited the slightly built boy better.
Tears once again filled Tom’s eyes but this time he managed to keep them under control. “My brother calls me that,” he whispered, as memories of Doug flooded his mind.
Booker immediately became wary. The last thing he wanted to do was cause the boy standing in front of him any more heartache by dragging up thoughts of loved ones. “That’s fine, I’ll just call you Tom,” he answered quietly.
Sighing deeply, Tom shook his head. “No, I like Tommy, you can call me that if you want.”
“That’s settled then,” Dennis replied cheerfully. “C’mon Tommy, I’ll introduce you to the others and then we can find a place to sleep.”
Picking up his bag, Tom followed his new friend out of the darkened alleyway and back into the bright lights of the city.
**
Booker hung onto Tom’s arm as he wound his way around the inner city streets. He stopped occasionally to chat to other teen runaways who clustered in groups around various corners of the city. It took only ten minutes to find Booker’s group who were sitting in the doorway of the National Finance Institution. Several shopping bags were scattered around them, which Tom guessed held their belongings. Placing his arm around Tom’s shoulders, Dennis’ began the introductions, “This is Tommy, he’ll be staying with us for awhile.”
Several hands waved in welcome as Booker continued, “That’s Erin, that’s Dave, the tough looking guy is Harry and this beautiful jewel…” he stepped forward and took the hand of a seventeen year old girl, “…is Judy.”
Tom gave an awkward smile as he studied his new acquaintances. Erin was blond and petite, with braces on her teeth. Tom guessed her age at about thirteen. Dave appeared younger, his expression was timid and he wore a pair of broken glasses, which someone had taped together at the bridge. Harry was about seventeen and of Asian descent. He had muscular arms and looked as though he could hold his own in a fight. Harry stared at Tom suspiciously for a few moments then smiled a brilliant smile. Tom immediately relaxed and smiled back as he began to feel accepted. Lastly, he turned his attention to the pretty African-American girl. Her hair was short and she wore long, dangly earrings.
Tom saw Booker whisper something in her ear and he wondered if they were boyfriend and girlfriend. He stood back shyly as the others debated where the best place to sleep for the night would be. Each put a hand in their pocket and pulled out what little money they had. Tom immediately added his but they still did not have enough for three hotel rooms. Fearing an inundation of runaways in their establishments, the managers of the local hotels refused to allow more than two to a room. As Erin yawned sleepily, Booker sat down beside her and draping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her head against his chest.
“Erin and Judy get the room, the rest of us will sleep rough,” Booker decided as he handed several notes to Judy. “Go to The Exeter, it’s the safest, we’ll meet you there tomorrow.”
Judy tugged at Erin’s hand and the young girl groaned, annoyed at the separation from her beloved Dennis. Grabbing up their bags, the boys watched on as the two girls ran across the busy road and disappeared into a building on the other side. When they saw Judy stand in the doorway and wave, they knew she had safely secured a room. Standing up, Booker clapped a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go find a place to sleep.”
Taking their bags, the group wandered down the street. Tom noticed that there were less people about. He walked silently beside Booker as Harry and Dave brought up the rear. It was several minutes before Dennis spoke, “So, what’s your story Tommy? I’m guessing from the black eye and bruising around your wrist that someone at home has been using you as a punching bag. Am I right?”
Tom felt a familiar knot form in his stomach. He had long ago been programmed not to speak about the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father. When he did not answer, Booker decided not to press. Some runaways were happy to open up to others who had suffered similar fates. However, many more found the shame and humiliation too difficult to discuss. Studying Tom’s face, Booker knew by the look in Tom’s eye that he was also a victim of sexual abuse. The haunted, almost disturbed expression was a direct give away. Dennis only had to catch his own reflection in the mirror to see the same look staring back at him.
His immediate concern though, was how pretty Tom was. He would be highly sort after in the world of teenage prostitution. Booker had no idea how long Tom had been in the city and he hoped that some middle-aged pervert had not already preyed upon him. He wanted desperately to save Tom from that experience if he could.
Booker stopped outside a boarded up building. Telling the others to stay where they were, he disappeared down the adjacent side alley. Several minutes later, he returned wearing a big smile. “Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves, c’mon.”
As Tom followed his new friends into the abandoned building, he felt a huge sense of relief wash over his body. He was so tired and finally he had a safe place to lay his head. Stopping in a backroom, Booker threw down his bag, signaling that this would be where they would spend the night. The room looked as though it used to be an office. There were remnants scattered around indicating that other homeless people had been using the building as a refuge. Dennis pulled a couple of candle stubs out of his bag and lit them with a plastic lighter. The flickering light cast eerie shadows across the graffiti splattered walls. Harry immediately set to and cleared a space on the floor for Dave, who could barely keep his eyes open. Wrapping the younger boy in his jacket, Harry lay down next to him and pulling him into a protective embrace, they closed their eyes and fell asleep.
Picking up the candles, Booker indicated for Tom to follow him to the other side of the room. Both boys sat cross-legged on the linoleum floor. Tom wrapped his arms around his body, shivering slightly. Dennis immediately shrugged out of his leather jacket and handed it to him. Tom shook his head in embarrassment. He had packed in such a hurry he had not even thought about bringing warm clothing. Dennis laid the jacket over Tom’s knees. “Take it,” he said quietly, “I’m not cold.”
Tom smiled gratefully and put the jacket on. It was too big, but he instantly felt warmer. “Thanks,” he replied.
Booker remained silent for a moment before speaking, “How old are you Tommy? Thirteen?”
Anger flashed across Tom’s face. “I’m fifteen!” he replied indignantly.
“Sorry,” Dennis replied, a smile playing on his lips, “But you look thirteen.”
Tom scowled. He hated the fact that he was so small. It appeared each brother was the opposite of the other, as Doug was big for his age.
Dennis studied Tom’s face for a moment. “When did you arrive in the city?”
A small pout formed on Tom’s lips. “I thought you got the hint that I don’t play twenty questions. But if you must know, I got here today.”
Booker exhaled heavily. He wanted to have the talk with Tom about not getting on the game but he was beginning to get the feeling that Tom would not listen. Sensing that Dennis had something to say, Tom decided to get it over with so he could finally get some sleep. “What?” he asked moodily.
Dennis shifted his position so he was sitting next to Tom. Draping an arm around him, he spoke in a quiet voice, “It’s just, I’m sorry Tommy but you’re very pretty and—“
When Tom angrily started to protest, Booker ignored him and carried on, “Whether you like it or not, you are and that makes you a target for all the pedophiles out there. They like boys who are pretty and petite like a girl but still have a dick. I don’t want you to get caught up in that. I know you don’t want to talk about your home life but I know what you’ve been through ‘cause I’ve been through the same. But the abuse can stop now Tommy, understand? You don’t have to let men take advantage of you anymore.”
Tom let Booker’s words sink in before he replied, “So how do we get money?” he asked quietly.
Dennis frowned. “You let me worry about that,” he replied.
Slowly shaking his head, Tom’s face was resolute. “Uh-uh, no way. I’m not gonna have it on my conscience if something happens to you that it was ‘cause I was too chicken to do it myself. I’m fifteen, I’m not a little kid like Dave or Erin. I don’t need to be protected from the big bad world ‘cause I’ve been living in it for most of my life. And if what you say is true, I can get more money for the group ‘cause of the way I look,” Tom argued in a raised voice. When Booker did not reply, he added quietly, “It’s not like I’ve never done it before.”
Seeing Tom’s determined look, Dennis sighed. “Okay, but we work as a team ‘cause I know who’s safe and who’s not, agreed?”
“Agreed,” Tom replied, yawning loudly. Booker leaned over and carefully blew out the candles, plunging the room into darkness. Both boys lay down and Tom found comfort in knowing that Dennis was only inches away from him. Rolling onto his stomach and resting his head on his arm, he fell into an uneasy sleep.
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What Is and What Should Never Be