The Runaway: Common Threads in the Life, #5

By Ronald L. Donaghe

Common Threads in the Life, Book 5

The Runaway

by Ronald L. Donaghe

 

In December 1999, following a chaotic summer when both Tom and Joel (a gay couple) were shot by an old nemesis, a desperate teenager named Jared Rory makes his way across a hundred miles of desert in the dead of winter. He ends up hiding out in the barn at the Reece farm (owned by Joel Reece and Tom Allen) only to be discovered by Joel, when he is feeding his livestock.

 

Both Joel and his "husband" Tom are fully recovered from their gunshot wounds, their daughter Shara has returned to live with them,and when the runaway is discovered hiding in the barn, they immediately take him in. This is their way as a loving mixed family and always has been for three generations.

 

But first they must visit the runaway's grandmother, whom Jared calls Granny Mack to find out why he has run away. They are surprised at every step as they gain information, including Jared's questionable history with his "grandmother," not the least of which is that Granny Mack is transgendered.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ronald L. Donaghe
• Release date: Mar 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201954673

Ronald L. Donaghe

Ronald L. Donaghe is the author of a dozen works of fiction, as well as three biographies,  and a series of interactive workbooks on writing. He has been an editor for over 40 years.

Book preview

Cover design by Sheriffa Halal

This is a work of fiction. All characters and incidents described are strictly the creation of the author, and any resemblance to real people, living or dead, or real incidents of similar nature, is purely coincidental.

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

PART ONE JARED..................................

Chapter 1.....................................

Chapter 2.....................................

Chapter 3.....................................

Chapter 4.....................................

Chapter 5.....................................

Part Two JP....................................

Chapter 6.....................................

Chapter 7.....................................

Chapter 8.....................................

Chapter 9.....................................

Chapter 10....................................

Chapter 11....................................

Chapter 12....................................

Chapter 13....................................

Part Three  Jared................................

Chapter 14....................................

Chapter 15....................................

Chapter 16....................................

Chapter 17....................................

Chapter 18....................................

Chapter 19....................................

Chapter 20....................................

Part Four JP....................................

Chapter 21....................................

Chapter 22....................................

Chapter 23....................................

Chapter 24....................................

Part One

Jared

Chapter 1

Winter 1999/2000

Nineteen ninety-nine had been a wet year starting with the normal monsoon season that usually came in July and continued on through August. And now as Christmas approached, it looked as though the winter was going to bring snow. Everyone said it was going to be colder than normal, Joel thought, as he went into the barn. It was almost dark out at just past five. The Florida Mountains to the east were crusted in snow, and the sunset turned the white crust into gold for a brief moment, followed by a reddening as the sun sank behind Red Mountain to the west. The wind was icy and didn’t abate when he pulled the door shut behind him, but silence settled immediately inside, reducing the roar of the wind to a moan.

The barn wasn’t much warmer than it was outdoors. Still, he removed the down jacket that Henry and Kelly had given him as an early Christmas present, telling him he needed it now, since the weather had turned so cold, so soon.

Wouldn’t do to get it dirty, he thought, as he looked for a clean place next to the door to hang the jacket. He found a nail in one of the vertical wooden beams that framed the large door. Next to the nail he flicked a light switch, and the darkness in the barn was burned back a bit from a high-wattage lamp that came on overhead.

The interior of the barn was almost cozy feeling, despite the temperature. The howling of the wind blowing past the barn, causing its walls to hum, gave him a sense of safety from the cold, the wind, and the night. The meager light from the overhead lamp was enough to reveal the cattle stalls on the north side of the barn and the equipment on the other. Until just a few years ago, when Tom and Joel were alone on the farm, other than Eva and Douglas in the other house, when their daughter Shara was still living in California, they had let their livestock on the home farm dwindle to nothing. They had left it up to the other families on the other farms in their corporation to take care of the livestock from which they shared milk and meat.

But since Shara Margaret had returned home almost four months ago, and Henry and Kelly had come to live on the home place, they all decided a milk cow would be nice. So they had bought a yearling heifer, inseminated her, and now she was fat with a calf, which she would drop in the coming spring. Joel had warmed to the idea of milking a cow, again. He smiled just slightly, since it had now become his chore alone to take care of her. Not that any of the others had shirked the idea, but in the winter, or on a dust-blown spring day, it surely wasn’t a privilege. Still, it was something Joel enjoyed doing. It was the work, it was the farming, and it was his life.

Much of the barn was in deep shadow, and the overhead lamp formed a pool of light on the concrete with some of the light glinting off equipment and causing shadows to appear near the hay bin, where an opened bale lay in ragged flakes, each about six inches thick. Joel freed a flake of the sweet-smelling alfalfa hay and threw it over the wooden rail fence into the trough on the other side. The cow, which Shara had named Bessie, came out of the dark and lowered her head to eat. Joel removed a glove from his right hand and patted the cow on her head.

You better be glad you don’t have milk yet, Bessie, he said, pulling the glove back on. You wouldn’t want my cold hands on your teats.

He leaned on the rails for a moment watching the cow, breathing in her smell that lent a more natural fragrance to the barn, an odor he had always liked, although that very same barnyard odor would be overpowering in a full-scale dairy.

He turned and was heading back to the large door, when he heard a rustling he was sure had not come from Bessie. It was just loud enough and unfamiliar enough from the sounds of the barn’s creaks and groans that he knew something had found its way inside, maybe during the day when the door had been open and one of the Reeces had gone in or out.

The occasional cat found its way into the barn and sometimes found mice to chase, but a cat wouldn’t have made the rather heavy sound, like a foot pulled up under someone hiding there.

Joel wasn’t afraid, and yet the hair on the nape of his neck stood on end when the sound came again. He stood still, then slowly turned to peer back into the darker recesses of the barn.

Anybody there? he said, raising his voice into a question.

"¿Quién es?" he said, thinking maybe an illegal alien had stole into the barn to get out of the wind and the cold.

But as soon as that thought struck him, he realized it was an odd time of year for illegals to be making their way up from the border. So he chose quick action and walked briskly back to the barn’s entrance, where he found the main switch box. With a quick, hard motion, he pulled the flood lamps on so that what had been amorphous shadow and dim light was suddenly a brilliantly lit interior.

Come out of there! Joel shouted. It ain’t gonna do any good to hide, he said, reaching for his cell phone. I’m calling for the rest of the guys to come out here.

It was at that moment that Joel thought about Paul Romaine and his attack on them during the summer just past. He groaned inwardly, for a brief instant, assuming that maybe Paul had not worked alone, after all. He flipped the cell phone shut and moved out of the middle of the large aisle that cut the barn in half. On one side were the livestock pens that had gone mainly unused in the last decade. On the other side of the wide aisle were tractors and other equipment. He moved between two tractors, keeping his eyes toward the back of the barn, where he thought the sounds of the intruder had come from.

He moved backwards, reaching behind him when he thought he might be in range of the tool bin, where they kept large wrenches, hammers, and other tools. He wanted something with heft that he could wield as a weapon if necessary.

I said, come out and show yourself!

Then he heard a whimpering sound.

A child?

Joel’s right hand folded around the handle of a large crescent wrench, and he pulled it from the tool bin, keeping it to his side as he moved back out into the aisle.

You crying? Hurt? he said as he moved toward what was now a tearful babbling, which he located coming from the calf pen next to Bessie. He laid the wrench down, freeing up his hands.

Even though it was still shadowy within the depths of the calf pen, he could see the white of a shirt and then movement, as a small figure came out from behind a stack of hay bales. It was either a girl of about twelve dressed only in a T-shirt and jeans, or a younger boy who finally showed himself to Joel. His or her black hair looked as though it had been chopped off, and it stuck out in every direction with bits of hay still clinging to it. Even in the shadows, Joel could tell that the child was trembling and filthy.

Come on outta there, Joel said, trying to sound non-threatening.

The child came forward. His face finally came a little clearer, and yet, Joel was still not sure it was a boy, although he was tending toward that conclusion. His jeans were baggy, his sneakers filthy, and his T-shirt had seen better days. His face was smooth and so young looking it was androgynous. His cheeks were streaked with tears, and when he finally came up to the fence, Joel removed his gloves, climbed up a couple of rails, and extended his left hand.

He winced slightly as the kid clasped his hand with icy fingers. Let’s get you out of there, kid. What are you doing way out here without a coat? You must be freezing.

IN THE HOUSE, PREPARATIONS were under way for dinner. Shara and her father, Tom, were at the counter along the south wall of the kitchen. Shara was slicing carrots, green onions, and celery, and Tom was ladling au jus from a roast pan, onto a roast he had just moved to a serving platter.

Wonder what’s keeping Daddy J, Shara said. Didn’t he just go out to feed Bessie? He’s been gone quite awhile, and it’s cold out.

She gathered up the sliced vegetables and tossed them into a large bowl of greens, then began to toss the salad, sprinkling in wine vinaigrette. She glanced at her father to see if he had heard.

Their eyes met, as Tom placed the ladle in the sink and rinsed it off. He smiled at his daughter. You know Joel, he said. He probably decided to clean or straighten something in the barn. Still, Tom thought, glancing at the stove clock, he’d been gone over half an hour and the barn was just down the hill in the equipment yard, and it was cold, as Shara had observed. If he doesn’t come by the time Henry and Kelly come in, I’ll call him on the cell.

Shara seemed satisfied as she began carrying food to the table. They worked well together as they set the table, getting everything ready. They would be eating in the kitchen. Tom went back to the sink to drain the boiling potatoes. Shara took the pot from him.

I can mash these, Dad, she said, just as they both heard the back door to the west open. That would be Kelly and Henry.

I think I’ll give Joel a call, then, while everything’s hot, Tom said, already leaving the kitchen.

He left Shara to finish up and made his way through the living room to a table where he picked up his cell phone, flipped it open, and hit his contact for Joel. Just as it was ringing, Joel opened the front door.

Only it wasn’t just Joel, Tom realized, once the figure wearing Joel’s new coat resolved itself into what Tom readily saw was a kid, a preteen, maybe.

Joel followed the child into the living room and met Tom’s eyes over the kid’s head.

Tom, this is Jared, Joel said.

A runaway, Tom finished in his mind. The kid lowered his eyes and then turned to look back at Joel, already looking to Joel for protection, Tom thought, and it didn’t surprise him that kids like this one before him—runaways or homeless—seemed to trust Joel implicitly. Although it had been years since a kid had come through like this one, Tom knew their reputation somehow filtered through the nearby communities. Probably something like, "There’re these two dudes over in Common’ll help you out, you go to ‘em. But watch yer back, man, ‘cause like I heard, they’re queer." In fact, once or twice when a kid had made it as far as the truck stop on the west end of town, one of the waitresses or cooks would try to convince the runaway to find their way to the Reece place, rather than seeing the kid hitch a ride into possibly greater danger out on the interstate. People in town knew the Reeces would do right by runaways and try to return them to their families.

But he would find out later how this kid had come to their farm. Right now, it was obvious the kid needed a bath and a change of clothing, a hot meal, and a little time to tell his story.

Do you mind if Joel helps you get cleaned up, Jared? Tom said, keeping his distance. It just so happens we’re about to eat. You hungry?

Jared nodded shyly, looked at Joel, then at Tom. Ok.

Joel then led the kid up the east stairs to the guest rooms, and Tom returned to the kitchen, his mind still on the child that Joel had brought in, like a stray kitten. That was Joel.

WITH A NAME LIKE JARED, Joel figured the kid was a boy, and it was confirmed once Joel had laid out a set of pants, T-shirt, socks, and even a pair of briefs on the guest bed. None of the clothing surprised the kid. Once you get undressed, Jared, just hand out your clothes and you can take these in with you, okay?

Jared stood next to a chair by the bathroom. He nodded. Ok.

Joel could not help smiling to himself. The most he had been able to get out of the kid was his name and his agreeable willingness, sprinkled with ok. The tears and trembling had stopped as soon as Joel helped him climb over the railing in the calf pen and at the barn’s entrance had put his own coat around the kid’s shoulders.

Your things will be safe while you’re in the shower. I’ll wait right here. You can use the towel and washcloth nearest the shower.

Ok, Jared said, and then he stripped down right in front of Joel. When he was down to his shorts, Joel winced at the bruises on the kid’s chest, like someone had twisted the kid’s nipples. When Jared stepped out of his shorts, Joel looked away, his own modesty not allowing him to stare, except for the instant when he saw that Jared was indeed a boy, although almost hairless, giving even more credence that he was probably a preteen.

TOM HAD EXPLAINED THAT they would wait on Joel and the kid he had brought into the house.

It sure smells good, though, Kelly said. Kelly and Henry were already seated at the kitchen table. Shara had given them each a cup of coffee, and as if he were cold, Kelly had wrapped his hands around the mug. Henry sat on his right, a finger laced loosely through the handle on his mug of coffee. His other hand was draped around Kelly’s shoulders.

In the four months that Kelly and Henry had been together, Shara had enjoyed observing her uncle with Kelly, the younger of the two. Henry had been the lost relative, Shara recalled, when he lived far away from his brothers up in Kalispell, Montana, coming south for short visits. She hadn’t seen him much during the time she was in Oxford or California, living near her mother, but at times, she thought he had to be lonely, and her heart had ached for him. But when he had come home this past summer to be with Joel and Tom, after they had been shot and were hospitalized, he had met Kelly, who was also there because of Tom and Joel. And something had clicked between the two of them, and now Shara just smiled to herself, no thought but a feeling that all was right in her world.

She also wondered how much longer it would be before Joel came down to supper with the kid...Jared.

She glanced over at Henry. In San Francisco, of course, she had seen what everyone called the Castro Street clones. But it had mostly abated in the nineties. Now the rage was a more refined metrosexual look, which gay men, of course, carried off much better than their straight counterparts. Henry, however, had come up with his own preferred wardrobe; from the time he had been adopted by the Reeces at a young age, he had shown an interest in his clothing, and now, even though it was cold out, he was dressed as he usually was, in khaki twill slacks and a long-sleeved sport shirt, tucked meticulously into his pants. On the coat rack by the back door, going out to the back yard, he had hung his corduroy jacket. In contrast, Kelly was dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. She bet if she looked under the table, Kelly would be wearing work shoes and Henry would be wearing Hush Puppies. But she was delighted that they still looked like the loving couple that had presented themselves to the family, shortly before everyone was taking off last summer, returning home to various parts of the country, once Tom and Joel were on the mend.

She cleaned off the counter, filling the dishwasher with the accumulated dishes and utensils she and Tom had used to prepare everything. And Tom was busy washing the roasting pan and other, larger pots they didn’t want to put in the dishwasher.

She listened to Henry and Kelly talking quietly, absorbed in each other’s company while they waited for Joel. She and her fathers were also content and often talked quietly before the day began on the farm. Shara, of course, was as involved as she had been as a teen in the family farm, but now, after having spent her latter teen years and her twenties in college and living near her mother in San Francisco, she and her fathers enjoyed every moment together. They were content with their new lives and all the plans they were making as a family, the plans that included the acquisition of an old school building in Common, which was shortly to be renovated. This acquisition was what kept Shara busy, and even though she took an interest in the farm work, her fathers wanted her to do something more, something they hoped would keep her occupied, so she wouldn’t feel that she had made a mistake, giving up her life in San Francisco to be with them.

She knew they were both delighted with her living back at home, yet also somewhat fearful that she might come to think she had made a mistake, and so she always made sure they knew how happy she was. Although it had only been four months since she left San Francisco, she was happy.

Shara and Tom joined Henry and Kelly at the table, and, for a long moment, no one spoke. Shara listened for her other father and, shortly, she heard the upstairs door to one of the guest rooms shut. Within a few heartbeats, Joel came into the kitchen with the young boy in tow.

Shara’s heart ached for the kid. Even though he was freshly showered, his hair was a mess. It was obvious that someone had taken a pair of scissors to what must have been a full head of thick black hair and chopped it without regard to the effect. It was slicked down with moisture but was already sticking out unevenly. If he would let her, she would get him aside later and shape it up a bit.

Everyone... Joel said, with his hands on the kid’s skinny shoulders, this is Jared.

Jared’s face revealed a kind of fright that Shara could only think of as a trapped animal’s. His eyes were a brilliant blue, and yet, there were dark circles under them, which meant that he was either chronically ill, undernourished, or terribly sleep deprived. He had such clear, smooth skin, full lips, and a rather prominent chin, Shara knew that in a few years he would be a girl’s wet dream.

But he was trembling so obviously that the sleeves on the oversized T-shirt were vibrating, and so she got up from her chair. Daddy, let’s sit Jared down, here... she pulled out a chair next to her, and you can sit next to him, she said, indicating the chair on the other side of Jared, next to Tom at the head of the kitchen table. It meant that Joel, Jared, and Shara were on one side of the table, and Henry and Kelly were on the other side.

Once everyone was seated, Jared’s hands disappeared under the table, and a quick glance told Shara that he had them jammed between his legs. She felt sorry for him, and yet it spoke well of his courage that he was sitting in a room with five strange adults, rather than bolting. His eyes, however, were locked on the food in the middle of the table.

Let me fix you a plate, Jared, Shara said. I’ll just give you a little of everything, and you can eat what tastes good.

Ok, he said, and she watched him watch her as she spooned mashed potatoes, roast, and salad onto his plate, followed by a dinner roll.

Everyone else followed Shara’s lead and filled their plates and, shortly, Tom said, Dig in while everything’s hot.

The way Jared chose a fork and knife and cut into his meat, then the way he held the fork in his right hand and used the knife in his left told Shara that he came from a family that practiced good table manners. A moment later, Jared laid down the knife and picked up a freshly buttered dinner roll, and after wolfing down the meat, he chomped into the bread.

He kept his eyes on his food, and Shara kept her eyes discreetly on him. She could hear him chew and swallow, more like gulping for air, she thought. He was starved and probably starving, and she hoped that his intake of so much food all at once wouldn’t make him sick.

The rest of the adults carried on quiet conversation, leaving Shara and Jared to exchange a few words.

How did you happen to find our place? Shara asked.

Jared glanced at her at the same time that he grasped his glass of tea. He took a noisy swallow and set it down gingerly. I heard... he said, trailing off, and then sat motionless.

His voice was so soft, Shara leaned a little closer. Heard what, honey?

Jared looked startled, perhaps at her endearment. About this place.

Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking? Shara said, changing tactics.

Cotton City.

Shara wasn’t sure where that was. Is that around here?

West, Jared said. Near Animas.

Shara smiled to herself, unsure of where Animas might be, either.

Daddy? she said, looking past Jared to Joel. Where’s Animas and Cotton City?

Joel told her that both towns were south of Lordsburg. About twenty, thirty miles from Interstate 10.

When Shara turned back to Jared, she saw that his plate was nearly empty. The roast and mashed potatoes were gone, and he was attempting to capture a forkful of salad. Without asking, she spooned another small mound of potatoes onto his plate followed by a small portion of roast.

So, how did you get here all the way from Cotton City? Shara asked. This time, she met his eyes and took in an involuntary breath. A girl’s wet dream for sure, she thought, or even a boy’s.

Trucker gave me a lift this morning, Jared said. He sat up a little straighter in his chair, and for the first time, he seemed to be more relaxed.

And how did you find our place?

The table suddenly got quiet, which Shara regretted, but she knew that everyone was curious about the kid.

I heard... he said, and again trailed off.

Whatever was stopping him from finishing that bit of information, Shara figured that it was the usual. Kids somehow heard things about her fathers’ place and had, over the years, shown up on their doorstep, looking for help. It was usually the gay kids who had been teased or treated badly at home. She was surprised, however, that the information about her fathers had persisted all these years. As the family had discussed in August, there had been that kid Lenny Listrop, who had come knocking, wanting to get away from his family and liked to wear girls’ clothes; there had been others, but as her fathers had said, not too many in the last ten years.

But, apparently, the runaway grapevine lived on in the small communities around Common. Even so, Cotton City was pretty far away.

Someone tell you about us at the truck stop?

Jared shook his head.

At school?

He nodded, but instead of looking her in the eye, he once more plunged his hands between his legs.

She stopped with the questions, realizing that he was becoming nervous again. Then, after a short silence, she put a tentative hand on his right shoulder. Did you save room for dessert, honey? My father T...uh...Tom made one of his apricot cobblers, and I think there’s ice cream. You like ice cream?

He nodded, glanced at her, and cleared his throat.

When everyone finished eating the main course, Joel got up to make coffee. Kelly and Henry each made a point to introduce themselves to Jared, from the other side of the table. Jared seemed to like the attention, now that the strangers surrounding him had become a little more familiar.

Cotton City, huh? Henry said. I know exactly where that is, Jared. Did you know they have a greenhouse that uses geothermal wells to power their operation?

Jared shook his head. But Shara was glad to see that he met Henry’s eyes. I’ve seen something off toward the northeast from Cotton City. I never knew what it was.

That’s it, Henry said. I read about it recently. I’ve been living up in Montana, a great long distance from here. So I’ve been catching up on news.

You live on a farm over in Cotton City? This question came from Kelly.

Jared shook his head again, and this time he met Kelly’s eyes. I live with my grandmother.

Where are you parents? Shara asked.

At this, Jared lowered his eyes, then suddenly looked up, as if determined not to be so shy. I’ve never had parents as long as I can remember. It’s always just been me and my Granny Mack.

At this string of words, Shara knew two things. The kid was articulate and used proper grammar. But the revelation that he had always lived with his grandmother meant that she was probably the only person in his life who had ever had any real influence on him.

Is that your last name, Jared? Mack?

Jared looked at her and smiled. It’s my grandmother’s nickname. Our last name is Rory.

For a runaway, Jared didn’t seem to mind giving away all the information anyone needed to get in contact with his family. She decided she would cool the cross examination and leave Jared in Kelly and Henry’s hands. Are you ready for that dessert? she asked. When Jared nodded and actually allowed a smile to cross his lips, Shara got up and took both his plate and hers to the sink to be rinsed before putting them into the dishwasher.

Over her shoulder, she heard Henry speaking to Jared. Good old Uncle Henry, she thought. If anyone could reach a kid and make him feel relaxed, it would be him.

DESSERT CAME AND WENT and, sometime during the after-dinner talk, Shara realized that Jared was barely awake, and when she nodded to Joel, he knew what she meant. So as the others stayed to visit, Joel led Jared up the east-side stairs and showed him a room where he could sleep. Shara accompanied them long enough to show Jared the linen closet on the east side of the upstairs, where the fresh towels were, and she set out a new toothbrush for him.

Something had been nagging at Shara all evening with the arrival of Jared. He was obviously not abused at home by his grandmother the way he talked about her, and maybe, Shara thought, she was getting on in years and wasn’t quite able to help her grandson against whoever had caused him to run away. But that he had been beat up was also obvious, and that nagging at the back of Shara’s mind caused her to recall her grade school friend, Christopher, who was also small for his age and, ultimately, bullied by the bigger kids.

Again, Shara thought about Jared. It was difficult to guess his age, although she was sure he was preteen. In stature, however, he was small for his age, unless it was that of a ten-year-old, and if that were the case, she doubted that he would have been able to survive running