Chapter 17 Chapter Sixteen

Ben Russell's mother looked tired and sad, exhausted by three days of intense work.The small, gray-haired woman sat by her son's bed, fiddling with her fingers endlessly, as if she didn't care what her son was doing.The only thing my son is interested in is playing with the remote with his headphones plugged into the TV.In daylight, when he was sane, his drawn-down mouth and perpetual scowl made it clear that he was a withdrawn youth.Jackson guessed that there was no joy in the reunion between mother and son. Because of the police's unabated interest in him, he was separated from the other patients and kept alone in an annexe.But as Jackson and Trevor Monaghan pass by his door, Jackson can see him quite clearly through the open door.They stopped in the corridor ten yards from the door. "How old is his mother?"

"At 67," Monaghan whispered, "at 52 she thought she was menopausal and had sex with her husband for the first time in 12 months. Poor woman. Her husband died of lung cancer a year later." "Are there any other children?" "Four...all much older than this. His one 38-year-old brother already has two adolescent children. The child was brought up as an only child - completely spoiled, in my opinion —but it wasn't much of a problem until her second husband came along. Now the unfortunate woman is blaming herself for remarrying, and she's been in trouble ever since."

Jackson smiled wryly, "How many times have I heard this kind of story? Every child who runs away from home has a history like this." "Well. Mrs Sykes wants me to say it was diabetes that led Ben astray." "Instead of what? Stepfather?" Monaghan shrugged, "You take your pick. She blames everything, like: overdoting on him because his father, died...she changed her last name when she remarried...had to give her time to her son to share with his new husband Etc. The only thing she wasn't ready to accept was the fact that Ben behaved the way he did because he wanted to. She kept telling me he was a really good kid at heart."

"Is he like this?" "I haven't seen it yet. He's a rude little bastard. Are you sure you want to talk to him?" Jackson nodded. "It's better to talk alone. Is there a way to get his mother away?" "What reward?" "A bottle of scotch, if you can guarantee that you will not be disturbed for half an hour after closing. I wonder what he told the police." After the door closed, Jackson was alone with Ben.That's right, Jackson thought, what a "rude little bastard."He deliberately ignored her until she snatched the patient's TV remote aside, turned it off, and unplugged the headphones from his ears.

"Good morning," she said, "I'm Dr. Jackson. We've met before, but you may not remember me. I'm the doctor who took care of you until the ambulance picked you up." He scrutinized her, frowning deeper, "Are you a lesbian?" "Last time I checked and said I was." She prevented him from retaking the headphones, unplugged them, and dropped them on the floor behind her, out of his reach. "Life is a bitch, isn't it?" "You shouldn't have done that." "Why shouldn't it? It's not yours, and you haven't paid for it. Either I pay, or the taxpayers who fund your TV addiction, or your poor long-suffering mother." She sat in the in the chair that Mrs. Kers used to sit in.

"I enjoy it according to the law. If you do something to me, I can sue you for assaulting me." "Then when Sergeant Jones asks you about the contents of that backpack, you'd better inform me. There are a lot of good things in your bag. Where did they come from?" "None of your business. I won't answer questions unless Mom and the lawyer are here." He clasped his hands, pointing at her with two index fingers. "I have rights." "What rights?" "I don't have to tell you." "Just what I want. I'll say both of us." She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. "Your condition means you will need to be monitored for the foreseeable future. The more you The sooner you learn to take an active role in your treatment—particularly adjusting your insulin, controlling your food intake, and exercising—the less time you'll be dependent...but only the brightest, most cooperative kids will be able to survive without parental help. successfully conquered their disease without the help of—”

"I know all this," interrupted Ben impatiently. "I'm tired of hearing it. I didn't ask to be born with diabetes, did I?" Jackson ignored his words and continued: "—an ungrateful wretch who wants his rights respected but doesn't give a damn about anyone else's . . . as long as he is free to steal . -" "You don't know anything!" growled the boy, pointing his finger at Jackson's eyes. "What did she do to me?" "Aha, well, that's a whole different question," Jackson said mildly. "Kids can do what they want, but mothers have to live with whatever fate throws at them. I can't imagine you doing that." What happiness a fool son can give your mother. I guess she's sitting in the dining room regretting not letting your dad wear a condom."

"I'm not a fool." "You could have fooled me. Why didn't you ask for help when you first felt sick?" "This is my life. Maybe I want to die." "In that case, you wouldn't have gone to Jock. In the state you were in, it would have taken a lot of effort to get over that railing. You were unconscious within 10 minutes of being there." "What if Jock isn't there? Then I'm dead?" "You've given yourself a better chance of surviving than curling up in front of a store. You're a homeless person. Passers-by will think you're asleep." She entered a brief silence, looking at him, "But, you You don’t usually sleep in front of other people’s houses, do you? Jock said you’re particularly afraid of being entangled by homosexuals.”

"I hate those bastards." "Have you walked past anyone?" He pointed at her again with both index fingers simulating pistols, pure hatred on his face, "No," he growled, "I'd rather die!" Jackson didn't believe him.This intense homophobia is indicative of just the opposite — a chronically abusive sexual relationship, or having sold himself out when he needed money and developed feelings of self-loathing as a result. "What was your stepfather like?" "He's a sycophant," he said contemptuously. "What kind of sycophant?"

"He married his mother to take possession of the house." She saw his mouth mumble in impotent anger, "Are we talking about rules and discipline... or something?" "I barely knew this bastard, and he started acting like my dad. All we did together was fight." He stared at Jackson resentfully. "Everything was fine before he came. If it wasn't for him I'm not leaving either." "Did you tell your mother so?" "So what? It's like this!" Jackson shook his head, "Your stepfather changed your relationship with your mother. From the way she looks, I guess you've been the little bully of the family for years. You're the little god of your own universe... when someone comes over and asks You challenge, you can't accept this change as if you've been robbed of someone you love."

"Whatever you say, you're not there, you don't know me," he muttered under his breath, in the usual platitudes of inarticulate young men. "If everything was fine from your mother's point of view, she wouldn't have brought your stepdad into your life," Jackson pointed out reasonably. "I guess she was lonely. Did you think about this when you were stepfather?" "Shut up!" Jackson shrugged, "Problems don't go away just because you refuse to talk about them. At some stage, you have to work out where you're going after you get out of here ... the street is not an option ... it's not for a person who is insulin dependent. ’ She waited in a brief silence, ‘I could be wrong, but I feel like you are being forced to do things you would never do if you stayed at home, in order to survive. "It's none of your business." "It's none of my business if it affects your health," she said calmly. "If you have an undiagnosed STD, your diabetes will be very difficult to cure. Have you ever told anyone about your sexual history? " "No... I don't intend to do that either." "It's a simple test, just what you need," Jackson said quietly. "It's a test you're supposed to do when you first come in. Do you want me to have Dr. Monaghan come and talk to you?" ?He wouldn't discuss it with your mother if that was your concern." He gave her a questioning look, as if assessing whether she was trustworthy, "And you?" "I will not repeat anything you said to anyone... unless I have your permission." "You'd better not say it!" he said harshly. "I promise." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "If someone found out, I would cut my wrists and kill myself. Every time I think about it, I feel sick." "What happened?" "I only did it once. The bastard said he would give me £30 if I went to the hotel with him. What a fucking conspiracy. There were five of them and they didn't give me the last penny. They thought it was fun …told me to go to the police if I thought I was being scammed.” He pointed his finger at the wall, took aim, and simulated the recoil of a shot, “I wanted to kill them…and still do.” "I don't blame you," Jackson said, "I would feel the same way." "I did that just for the fucking money." "When did that happen? How long ago?" "A few months ago," he said vaguely, "probably when I met Jock." How many months? "Is that why he took you under his flag? Did you tell him about it?" "A few...not many. I don't want him going around saying I'm a fucking gay, do I?" Jackson laughed. "I think you're safe at that point. I think Jock has too many secrets of his own, so he doesn't go around talking about other people's secrets." He glanced at her suspiciously again, "You know him?" "He was in the alley the night you passed out. I think he may have taken a canvas bag that belonged to you." Ben's answer was very quick.too fast? "No," he said firmly, "I only have one backpack." "And the bag of cigarettes and liquor? Jock says it's yours." "He's an alcoholic. Most of the time he talks bullshit." "He did his best to help you. I had to ask him some questions about when your symptoms started." She saw his eyes widen in horror. "He doesn't know much... say he I've only known you for a month...maybe only seen you five or six times." Ben stared at his hands. "So who's telling the truth? You, or Jock? When did the gang rape happen?" "A month ago." Jackson was skeptical.In type 1 diabetics, a laceration or cut does not heal within four weeks.But she let him go, "You know those men wear condoms?" The boy twisted his shoulders in embarrassment, "I never saw that...they put me face down on the bed and they took turns...but I think they wear it. One of them thinks I have AIDS because I Too skinny... the guy who took me told him to put on double insurance." He closed his eyes to keep the tears from streaming down his face, "I really hate those bastards." "It's reasonable," she agreed. "For such bastards, they should have their thing taken off and nailed to the gate of their house! If you see them again, will you recognize them?" "Diabetes they passed on to me?" Jackson shook his head. "It's not a sexually transmitted disease. You may have developed it slowly over the past few weeks, but after a few simple tests, Dr. Monaghan can reassure you that you have AIDS." and STDs." "Why can't you do it?" "Because one of the items includes a quick look at your ass, and you don't feel too embarrassed if a guy comes and does it." "Poop!" She laughed again, "Yeah! There's bound to be some, but don't worry...your poo won't smell different than anyone else's. Trust me, I'm a doctor." Ben pouted reluctantly, "You don't look like that." "I'm a fitness buff in my spare time." She saw a twinkle of interest in his eyes, "Once you eat right and your insulin adjusts, you'll grow muscle pretty quickly too. If you are willing to accept the guidance of a woman, I will give you a fitness training program." "it is good." "You have to be serious," she warns, "I'm not interested in people wasting their time." "it is good." "What can I get in return?" Ben glanced at her warily again, as if worried that she was looking for material gratitude and affection. "What do you want?" he asked suspiciously. "Information, prepaid...now...the police, your mother and the lawyer are not present." He became more suspicious, "What kind of information?" "Let's start with how your Nokia got here." The request seemed to worry him, but to Jackson he seemed more confused than worried.He repeated to her what he had told the police, and she listened patiently, sympathizing only when he described how unwell he had been on the day of the theft. "The only good thing about stealing that guy's tote bag was some sandwiches in it, and I was starving to death." "It's a typical symptom of a diabetic. Your cells aren't converting glucose into energy, so your brain is telling you to eat... meanwhile, your system is flushing out the sugar through your urine, so you're getting thinner .” "I was quite weak at the time, which is why I don't remember very well." Jackson nodded gravely and encouraged him to describe other symptoms.He rattled off a long list: tiredness, abdominal pain, frequent urination, vomiting, dizziness, tremors, intense thirst. "You are a sick child," she said. "Exactly. I think I passed out a few times." "No wonder you're confused." He nodded. "Maybe you hit your head when you passed out, which often leads to memory loss." "Yeah," he readily agreed, "I'm pretty sure I passed out after leaving the park. I remember a lady helping me across the sidewalk and asking if I was okay." "When did you say this happened?" "Sometime in the last month, I don't remember exactly." "Interesting," Jackson murmured, "I'm surprised you didn't fall into a coma immediately with such severe symptoms." There was another trace of wariness in his eyes, "I've been sick like this for a long time." "Well," she raised her eyebrows amusedly, "didn't Dr. Monaghan explain to you that type 1 diabetes often comes on suddenly? The usual incubation period is days—not weeks. Fatigue, thirst and Frequent urination is the typical early symptom, but abdominal pain and vomiting is a sign of ketoacidosis, which is what caused you to pass out four days ago. I can't believe that you had so many ketones in your blood weeks ago... But they were able to successfully neutralize these toxic substances without intervention." He licked his lips with the tip of his tongue. "I guess I got lucky." "Or weird." She held up her index finger, imitating his pistolman, "You can tell me the truth now. There's no one else here, so you can be honest." "I've always been honest." "No. If you're throwing up and you're going to pass out, then you must have stolen the phone within 24 hours of passing out. If you stole it four weeks ago," she said, emphasizing the "week" with deliberate irony. Words, "Thirst and frequent urination shouldn't affect your memory. Unless you're also hiding from Dr. Monaghan that you're drinking or doing drugs." Ben's mouth began to twitch in pain again. "It's just a phone," he yelled. "I know a guy who steals phones all the time. When those whores are texting their buddies, he snatches them right away." Come on. They can't react at all...and they usually don't do anything when they get robbed because they're too afraid of being stabbed." Jackson folded his arms across his chest and stared at him, "How old are these 'bitches'? 12-year-old school girls? Your friend is so brave. Or are you talking about yourself? Are you demonizing those girls Would you feel more at ease with what they're doing if they're called 'bitches'? "It's just a name," he whispered. "Everyone calls it that." "In front of me they don't. Men show respect to women in front of me." "Yeah, well," his voice became weaker, "I just want to say that mobile phones are stolen every day, and no one really cares." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "Why is this Nokia so important?" Jackson dismissed it as cunning, not ignorance, "If you don't know the answers, you should fire your lawyer. At least he should have made you understand why you were being interrogated." "He said... so to speak. The police said there was something in my backpack that belonged to a murder case. I was freaked out because they wouldn't say what it was. It had to be that Nokia , right? Otherwise you wouldn't have asked about it." She nodded. "I know it is... I know it's fucking!" He stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. "You want to say it, don't you?" Jackson wondered who was he more afraid of?His mother...the police...someone on the street? "Are you lying about the man in Hyde Park? Maybe," she agreed, "unless you decide to tell it yourself first. Better if it comes from your own mouth." "You promised you wouldn't!" he said very angrily. "What I promise you is that I will not share your health information and sexual history," she reminded. "Are those five men connected to this phone?" He stared at her hesitantly, but if he had any intention of unburdening himself, his mother's return thwarted him.He stopped when he saw his mother's face on the glass panel of the door, complaining under his breath that she would wonder why the door was closed.Jackson stood up to open the door, shook her hand firmly in greeting, and explained that she was the doctor who treated Ben first, so she would be here. "I stopped by to check on him," she said. Mrs Sykes' response was as limp as her handshake. "To bother you." She bent down and picked up the earphones from the ground, as if her job was to pack people's things. "He likes music." She murmured, plugged the earphones into the console, and handed them back to her son. hands. Jackson saw her settle into her usual chair and the boy put his earphones back on.Neither mother nor child showed any interest in continuing to talk to her or each other.Jackson has a feeling she and Trevor Monaghan may have misunderstood their relationship.Perhaps it is not the son who is resisting the mother, but the mother is using some means to distance herself from the child she never wanted. Before Jackson left, he approached Trevor Monaghan again and asked him if he had tested Ben for STDs, as was customary.He nodded. "If we don't know the patient, this test is one of our standard procedures. We didn't find any pinholes in him, but the more cautious the better, the better always with HIV and hepatitis." " "result?" "Very clean. Is he concerned about infection?" Jackson shrugged noncommittally, "Have you had a rectal exam?" He stared at her curiously, "What did he tell you?" "Answer my question first," she urged. "I thought, given his age, and the fact that he ran away from home, you might have checked. If you did, he doesn't seem to know." "He won't know. I had Anna Peloski look at him while he was comatose, and she didn't see any signs of penetration... no old scars... no lacerations." Monaghan paused After a moment, "Did he tell you anything different?" "yes." Monaghan shrugged. "He accused his stepfather to a nurse that Mr. Sykes would sodomize him whenever he felt like it, which is why he didn't want to go back as long as the man was in the house. I can't say anything like that." It never happened - we're talking about a year ago and he probably didn't suffer any physical harm - but I suspect it was a ploy to get his mother around." "He told me he had been gang-raped by five men last month." "That's him playing with you. With his condition, in that case Ana would have found an open wound and he'd still be in pain." "What if it was a little longer... say three or four months?" Monaghan was skeptical. "Five guys...one after the other...all excited to fuck...No scars? I can't tell, Jackson." She nodded, "Why did he make up such a story? What effect does he hope to achieve?" "Confused," Monaghan said with a hint of sarcasm, "he's manipulative, kid."