My Home From Home - Chapter 35: Chapter 35
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"There there, Mrs Bates." Emily comforted the hysterical woman as she sat flanked between Emily and Mary in Henry and Thomas' drawing room. "Don't lose hope, he'll be back home safe and sound before you know it."
"She's quite right, Mrs Bates" Chimed Henry, flashing the older woman an empathetic smile. "They've already sent the search party out, they'll find him. It's just a matter of time now."
"I do hope you're right, Doctor." Sniffled Mrs Bates as she dabbed the salty tears off of her cheek with the sleeve over her powder blue dress. "Just knowing my little Timmy is out there in the cold just breaks my heart into a thousand pieces."
"I understand how you feel wholeheartedly, But you mustn't lose hope. The snow has died down so the search parties can scour every inch of the woods to look for him." Henry simply nodded, using every fibre of his being to keep his true feeling from showing on his face; he knew there were grim possibilities in that moment, nonetheless he put on a brave face for the sake of Timmy's family.
Timmy had run away earlier that night, leaving a note for his parents that said it'd become too painful for him to stay in town. He longed for a new life in the city, though he gave no detail as to why and for that Henry was thankful. But what had Henry's heart sinking into the depths of his entrails was the idea of that poor young boy wandering about somewhere completely alone in the middle of a blizzard.
"Fancy a cuppa, Mrs Bates?" Henry asked with a hopeful smile though inside he was utterly gutted. "My Granny always says that nothing calms a distraught heart like a hot cup of tea." Henry pulled a kerchief out of his waistcoat pocket and offered it to the older woman.
"That'll be lovely, thank you." Mrs Bates' voice cracked as took the handkerchief out of Henry's hand and dabbed the tears of her lashes.
"I'll go put the kettle on, then." Henry stood up to take his leave towards the kitchen, though he was stopped as a silent Mrs Bates held onto his wrist to stop him.
"I..." Began Mrs Bates, glancing awkwardly between the two supportive women who flanked her. "Was hoping I might have a moment to speak with the doctor... alone..."
"Not to worry, we'll put the kettle on, right Emily?." Mary said politely, placing a supportive hand on the woman's shoulder as she exchanged a nod with Emily and the two promptly made haste out of the room and shutting the door to the drawing room behind them to give Henry and Mrs Bates the privacy she'd asked for.
"So erm... Was there something you wished to discuss with me." Henry awkwardly stammered as he sat back down onto the sofa, anxiously wringing his hands.
"Timmy is different, isn't he." Muttered Mrs Bates, barely over a whisper; she glanced up with bloodshot red eyes dripping with tears and pain, to see the reassuring smile on Henry's face falter ever so slightly.
"H-how do you mean...?" Henry's eyes fluttered in confusion, though he very well what she meant. "I-I assure you Timmy is a very bright, intelligent, very normal young man with a bright future ahead of him."
"You know exactly what I mean, Doctor." She countered matter-of-factly, her eyes softly yet knowingly fixed upon the handsome raven haired doctor as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "He was a happy child, our Timmy. Always laughing, always playing, always a ball of energy and light whenever he'd enter a room. But as he got older, around thirteen-fourteen years old, he changed. He was still this bright, witty, intelligent boy, but there was a cloud over his head; a cloud of this sadness, source of which we could neither pinpoint nor understand. But then as I observed him, I noticed he was different; the way he'd interact with girls and boys were starkly different, different from the other boys." Henry felt the discomfort within him heighten as the conversation entered into uncharted territory he knew neither how to address nor whether to; regardless of what he did or didn't know, it wasn't his story to tell. "I just want to know, Doctor. Will my Timmy ever be happy? Will it ever truly get better for him."
"I shan't delude you by saying that it'll be easy, by any means." Henry admitted against his better judgement; for before him he saw a woman who wished now ill upon him nor his 'sort'. He merely saw a woman who wished to understand, who wished well for a son she saw suffer with perhaps the worst punishment of all; the inability to understand oneself, and the fear and uncertainty that comes with charting those unforgiving waters. "At times one might feel terribly alone, travelling upon a bleak and grim road of fear, lonesomeness, and a lack of hope. In some places one won't face legal persecutions, whilst in other places like here one will; but social acceptance remains low whether or not it's legal. Yet like so many have done, for hundreds of years, one shall survive; for being 'different' isn't new, it's always been there since the beginning of time, it's only society that cruelly labels it good or bad."
"I don't understand it all, if I'm being honest..." A sob hitched in the back of her throat as Mrs Bates mustered the words. "Our Timmy had an older brother called Oliver. He was called up during the War and died in Belgium. So even though I don't understand Timmy's situation, as a mother who has lost a son in battle, I can say one thing. I don't care what Timmy is or what it is he does, just as long as my child is happy, safe, and alive, that's my only wish for him."
"We're all grateful for your son's sacrifice for King, Country, and Empire, Mrs Bates." Henry bowed his head respectfully, watching as the older woman gave him a grateful, yet melancholic smile. "Your Timmy is a bright young lad with so much potential to excel in this world. He will have many decisions to make as to what his life will look like, but one thing I can say for absolutely certain; we meee mortals might not have the ability to see what the future has in store for us, but iI know in my heart that our Timmy's future shall be bright."
"That's awfully kind of you to say." Sniffled Mrs Bated as she dabbed the tears off her lashes with Henry's handkerchief. "I only pray he comes home safely, my heart can't bear to think of him all alone out there in the cold." she eked out the words before succumbing to the sobs she'd been bravely holding back.
"Shall we pray for our Timmy?" Offered Henry with a hopeful smile, trying with every fibre of his being to hide how shattered he was on the inside by all this.
"I'd like that very much." The older woman replied, prompting Henry to rise from where he was sitting and make his way across the room to kneel before her, taking her hands in his as they both bowed their heads and softly shut eyes in devotion.
"Dear Lord. We pray that you please watch over our Timmy and protect him from harm so that he may be able to return to us safely. Guide him so that he may find his way home and out of the bleakness of winter." Henry began, only to be cut off by the older woman.
"And help him find himself and learn to love himself so that he may be truly happy once again." She said softly, prompting Henry to raise his gaze up to look at her; a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he saw a woman before him who prayed only for her son's happiness, no matter how unconventional or wrong society told her it was.
"In Jesus' name, Amen." Henry closed out the prayer as they both fluttered their eyes open; a calm serene look about them as Henry simply smiled and gave the older woman's hand a soft squeeze in solidarity. "He is in the Lord's hands now, Mrs Bates. I have faith that all shall be well."
"Doctor Dunmurry!" Henry and Mrs Bates both flinched as they heard Mary's voice call out urgently from a distance paired with what they assumed were her heels clicking against the wood floorboards as she hastily made her way towards the drawing room. "Doctor, it's Jacob McCallister, he's in the police station asking for Constable Wilson, he says it's urgent."
"Thank you, Mary. I'll see to him forthwith." Henry smiled politely as the pretty young redhead turned on her heels to go back to helping Emily with the tea. "Oh, Mary!" Henry called out towards Mary who craned her neck towards him immediately. "Would you mind awfully just staying with Mrs Bates whilst I'm gone, I would hate to leave her alone at a time like this." Requested Henry, to which Mary was more than pleased to oblige.
He kept a calm and unbothered exterior as he bid both Mary and Mrs Bates adieu for the time being, only allowing himself to let out a stressed huff as he left the drawing room and found himself alone in the corridor leading towards the police station. He felt exposed to Mrs Bates in a way, whilst also being pleasantly surprised by her broadmindedness that he'd found to be a rarity in the times he lived in; to add to it all he felt this strange uncertainty that came with Jacob McAllister suddenly calling in to the police station mere hours after Timmy ran away. He couldn't help but dread the thought that Jacob might know something, or worse; he was had some part in it.
"Jacob?" Henry peeked into the police station's waiting area, seeing Jacob sitting hunched over at one of the benches with his empty striking blue gaze staring off blankly into the distance as his elbows rested on his knees. "Good Evening."
"Oh um." Jacob's eyes shot up with a surprised gasp, standing up with a dazed look in his eyes as he stashed something in his coat's inner pocket. "Good evening doctor." He mustered a smile though from his bloodshot eyes Henry could easily infer he'd been crying. "I was um... Looking for Constable Wilson."
"I'm afraid the Constable isn't here at the moment." Henry sighed, though he didn't approve of how Jacob treated Timmy, he knew many people like Jacob; boys who take out their own insecurities about their sexuality on others. Did it make it right? No. But did he understand it and feel they of all people needed someone to help them and psychologically support them through their journey, yes. "Perhaps I might be of assistance to you. I would be more that obliged to help."
"I..." Jacob stammered, his eyes beginning to water as his lower lip quivered. "I have to find him!" Jacob buckled over, succumbing to the sobs he'd been fighting tooth and nail to keep from bubbling to the surface. Henry rushed over to keep him from falling, helping the taller blond lad towards the bench to sit him down. "P-please don't t-tell anyone about this..." Jacob pleaded, his eyes dripping with a desperation that broke Henry's heart as a perplexed young doctor's eyes darted between Jacobs.
"Read it... H-he left it for me. Must've slipped it in my school bag while I wasn't looking." Jacob stammered as he hitched a sob in the back of his throat, digging into the his coat breast pocket to pull out a small envelop with the words "To Jacob" in the centre and "From Timmy" in the upper lefthand corner. Henry's hands trembled as he took the envelop out of Jacobs hand and opened the flap to pull out the folded letter enclosed within.
Dear Jacob,
If you're reading it is likely that I've long gone. When I sat down to write this letter, I wanted nothing more than to tell you that you've hurt me physically, mentally, as well as emotionally. I wanted to tell you that I hated you, Jacob; but as I sit here on attempt number five at writing this, I feel like perhaps I've been going at it all wrong.
I want to hate you, I should hate you. You've bullied me, taunted me, jeered at me; all while your friends were around. But when it was just you and me you used me, treated me like an object for your desires, threw me aside like I was nothing, threatened me, and though you never hit me when it was just us, it still hurt me emotionally.
But despite all this deep within my heart, as much as I hate it and as much as I don't understand it, i think I might love you. I've read that it's likely a hormone called oxytocin which is released during sexual intimacy that gives one the feeling of being bonded to or enamoured by the person they shared the encounter with, but nonetheless I feel what I feel.
I'm bonded to you Jacob McAllister. and even though you hurt me and I know you're bad for me, I still can't bring myself to hate you no matter how much my head tells me to. Which is why I've decided to leave Fir Creek. For my own sake. Because since you stopped hurting me, and stopped doing things with me, I've learnt that I need you. I need your touch. I need to feel wanted. And that just might be my own undoing. So to learn to unloved you, I've decided to run away.
But before I left I couldn't leave without at least once, knowing full well that you didn't feel any love for me, I had to tell you how I felt. You may not understand, much as I myself don't understand my own feelings; yet it is what it is. So with that I say goodbye Jacob. I truly do wish you the very best. May you find a girl to love and treat well in the way that I only wished you'd treat in my wildest daydreams.
With love, Timmy.
"Oh, Jacob." Henry sighed with heartbreak as he folded the letter back up, looking pityingly at the blond teenager as he sobbed relentlessly into his palms. "
"I have to find him!" Bawled Jacob as Henry felt his heart sink to the depths of his gut. "I have to tell him I'm sorry! I have to tell him I feel the same way for him!"
"Jacob, I-I don't know what to say." Huffed henry as he ran his hand anxiously though his raven black hair. "For starters, he's right about the hormone bit; sexual activity releases all the necessary hormones to give off the feeling of love. But all that aside, your relationship wasn't healthy for either of you; though I daresay doing a runner like that was a terribly bad shout, his point is quite valid."
"You don't understand!" Scoffed Jacob with a sniffle. "You wouldn't understand."
"I think you'll find that I understand better than you'd expect." Henry patted him comfortingly on his back. "You hurt him because you wished you could hurt yourself. You felt this resentment for yourself because of how attracted to him you were, so to cope with this self-hatred you hurt the very embodiment of your attraction... Timmy. Of course there's the added benefit for you; that hurting Timmy would keep anyone from thinking anything 'unseemly' was in play."
"I'm such an idiot!" Hearing his deepest darkest internalised thoughts being verbalised by another sent Jacob over the edge; he doubled over and began to sob louder and more heartwerenchingly than before as Henry tried his level best to comfort him. "I was so awful to him because I was afraid! I was afraid to feel how I felt him! I'm not a freak! I didn't ask to be a freak! But now he's gone and I can't even tell him how I feel or how sorry I am and how wrong I was!"
"I know mate... I know.... Shhh... It's going to be alright..." Henry comforted him with a supportive arm over him as he pulled the sobbing lad close to him to show his solidarity; for poor Jacob might've been the villain in Timmy's story, but in a way he was the villain in his own story as well, and nothing can possibly be more psychologically taxing that what both those boys have endured. "What you did to Timmy was wrong, and admitting to that and changing is the first step of many. For you cannot truly love another so long as you don't love yourself, Jacob. As long as you have this resentment for the way you were made, you won't be able to treat Timmy the way you are meant to; and that is fair to neither you and certainly nor to Timmy. You treated him like nobody should be, and though a part of me understands and has seen your perspective not just once but from many boys in my day; there is a very difficult and uncertain path to redemption. So go home, dry your tears, and should we find Timmy, and should you're paths ever cross, tell him you're sorry. And should he choses not to forgive you, which is well within his right not to, leave him alone. Do you understand?"
"I-I do.." Stammered Jacob as he wiped the tear strains off his cheek with his coat sleeve.
The bell above the entrance to the police station rang as the door swung open, bringing with it the cold wintry air from the outside. Henry and Jacob's attention shot towards the door, watching as Thomas kicked the door open with his leather winter boots, his arms otherwise occupied by a motionless teenaged boy he carried bridal style who was wrapped in blankets.
"Oh my god, Timmy!" Henry rushed towards the flustered young Constable; his cheeks a rosy pink from exposed to the unforgiving blizzard winds and the fur of his muskrat winter mountie hat matted with snow from the blizzard that besieged the prairie beyond those four walls. But it was mostly the boy in his arms who attracted Henry's attention.
"I found him in the forest, passed out under the refuge of a tree, though I daresay it didn't do much good." Huffed Thomas as he bounced TImmy in his arms to get a better grip on him.
"He's cold as ice..." Henry muttered breathily as he felt Timmy's pale frigid cheek; the slight blueish tinge to his lips offering Henry little relief from his worries for his well-being. "But, he's alive, thank God." Henry said as he placed two fingers upon the side of Timmy's neck and feeling a shallow pulse coming form his jugular. " Come, come. bring him into the drawing room and set him by the fire"
They rushed Thomas into the drawing room as hastily as humanly possibly, setting the frigid young boy in the armchair by the fire to get him as warm as possible. Mrs Bates gasped at the sight of her boy, the initial wash of relief to see him entirely eclipsed by the horror as she realised he wasn't conscious.
"Stay calm, Mrs Bates. He's alive, but it's crucial that we act soon to keep him that way. We're not out of the woods just yet." Henry instructed calmly, his sapphire blue eyes exuding a show of confidence that he knew he had to put forth to keep those around him calm; though internally he was absolutely terrified of what was to come. "We need to get him out of these wet clothes. I need blankets and loads of them, hot water bottles and some warm water and flannels to bring his body temperature up.
"W-what should I do?" Jacob asked frantically as the three women in the room dispersed to gather everything Henry mentioned to help. "I want to help him. I-I have to help him."
"You! I thought I told you to stay away from him, Jacob." Thomas' eyes glowed bright red with anger as he charged up towards Jacob and stood authoritatively before him. "Jake, I swear if I find out you've got something to do with him running away, God help you." He seethed, his voice filled with frustration and anger.
"Tom, he say's he's got nothing to do with it." Henry sprung up hastily, placing his hand on Thomas' chest as his eyes silently pleaded him to stand down. Jacob's fear laden eyes narrowed at the sight of what he'd just witnessed, noting the oddly intimate nature of Henry's hand on Thomas' chest and how rapidly it diffused the man's temper.
"Erm, Jacob I think perhaps it's best if you returned home. It'll be dawn soon, you should probably rest." Henry retracted his hand away from Thomas' chest as he realised how odd that might look, turning towards Jacob with a gently smile as though nothing had transpired.
"You..." Jacob stood up with widened eyes as he pointed between Henry and Thomas who both exchanged weary glanced. "You're like me! Y-you are.."
"I haven't a clue what you're on about." Henry shot back defensively without missing a beat as he began speedily undoing Timmy's buttons to reveal his damp, ghostly pale, wet skin.
"You..." Stammered Jacob in pure and utter shock, still trying to piece this newfound revelation together. "B-but how?!"
"Honestly do any of us know the answer to that?" Muttered Thomas out of the corner of his mouth.
"I-I had no idea..." Jacob's eyes darted across the floor.
"You'll find as you grow up that survival for men like us is fully dependant on our discretion, secrecy, and exercising caution." Henry sighed, cutting straight to the point knowing there was no point in denying it, not when they could perhaps be mentors to both lads. "Well for God's sake, mate! Don't just stand there! Help me get his clothes off, we're in a race against the clock here! And Thomas, be a dear and fetch me some towels a clean pair of my pyjamas from my cupboard."
Henry took a second, glancing down at the motionless young lad laying there, his hair disheveled and unkempt from the unforgiving winter wind, his eyes surrounded by dark circles that starkly contrasted his pale skin. He couldn't give up on him, he simply refused to.
"I have so many questions, I-I've never met anyone else like me... Other than... well, Timmy." Jacob admitted softly, his hand hovering over Timmy's cheek as though wishing to caress it, stopping short of touching him and retracting his hand away and going back to slipping off Timmy's sopping wet socks.
"It always helps to have mentors or someone close to you to guide you through it all. Trust me, I know how grim it can feel being different." Henry offered him a tender smile as he observed the seemingly insignificant moment that only marked Jacob's first sign of development. "You wanted to caress his cheek just then, what stopped you?" He asked hoping his assumptions were right.
"I feel like I've lost the right to." Jacob Admitted as Henry felt a slight glimmer of hope glow like an ember in his heart. "I don't deserve him."
16 February 1921
Dear Diary,
Words cannot even being to describe the emotional journey that the past twenty four hours have been. The uncertainty, the heartbreak, the hope, and the resurrection of faith in communal spirit. As the wee hours of morning turned to dawn, and dawn to mid-morning light, through vigilance and sheer determination we managed to nurse poor Timmy from what was a bleak prognosis to what is now a stable state.
The entire town came together splendidly in this great urgency; from people coming with food for the Bates', to tokens of emotional support like thoughtful handwritten cards wishing Timmy a speedy recovery. It is in times like this I wonder why I preferred London and it's rude anonymity to my childhood in Aldringham; for this whole situation has only reminded one just how much warmth, togetherness, and camaraderie one can find in small hamlets like Aldrinham or Fir Creek.
And though it has seemed like everyone has done their bit some way or somehow, perhaps the biggest help to me was just whom I thought a negative force for Timmy not long ago; Jacob himself. Jacob monitored him for hours, and though I told him to go home and rest, he refused outright. He kept him warm, replaced the hot water bottles that surrounded him regularly, ensured his extremities weren't neglected by applying hot water soaked flannels as warm compresses.
When Timmy finally regained consciousness after hours of us all tending to him, it was as though Timmy's sickly pale face illuminated to see Jacob right there nursing him to health. The poor lad looked as though he wasn't sure if he were in this life or the thereafter. Jacob apologised to him and told him that he had no right to hurt him the way he did; though something he shared with me beforehand that frankly impressed me. He didn't tell Timmy that he had feelings for him, for he didn't want it to sway his decision. He wanted Timmy to see him changed and forgive him organically rather than for the sake of 'love' which I can't help but find terribly profound for a lad so young as Jacob; and to Jacob's apology an ever pragmatic Timmy gave perhaps the most mature answer I could've ever expected from a young eighteen year old, 'I shall think about it'.
Love, tis a peculiar concept. Two eighteen year olds still wet behind the ears when it comes to the harsh realities of the world and it's inner workings are able to verbalise a love that they feel within their hearts and here I am, a grown man, unwilling to have that conversation with Thomas. As I watched Thomas heroically swoop in and save the day, carrying Timmy in after saving him from what I fear would've been the worst had he not found him when he did, I knew that I couldn't be more in love with him than I already am. He's everything I'd want in a lover, he's tender, loving, kindhearted, thoughtful, dutiful, loyal; and if there were a perfect world somewhere where I could marry another man and live together free of any societal norms, I would spend the rest of my life with Constable Thomas Wilson. But alas, I live in this world where loves like ours are doomed to face pitfalls. I only pray one day I'll find it in me to tell him just how much I truly, undeniably, wholeheartedly, love him.
Love, Henry
"She's quite right, Mrs Bates" Chimed Henry, flashing the older woman an empathetic smile. "They've already sent the search party out, they'll find him. It's just a matter of time now."
"I do hope you're right, Doctor." Sniffled Mrs Bates as she dabbed the salty tears off of her cheek with the sleeve over her powder blue dress. "Just knowing my little Timmy is out there in the cold just breaks my heart into a thousand pieces."
"I understand how you feel wholeheartedly, But you mustn't lose hope. The snow has died down so the search parties can scour every inch of the woods to look for him." Henry simply nodded, using every fibre of his being to keep his true feeling from showing on his face; he knew there were grim possibilities in that moment, nonetheless he put on a brave face for the sake of Timmy's family.
Timmy had run away earlier that night, leaving a note for his parents that said it'd become too painful for him to stay in town. He longed for a new life in the city, though he gave no detail as to why and for that Henry was thankful. But what had Henry's heart sinking into the depths of his entrails was the idea of that poor young boy wandering about somewhere completely alone in the middle of a blizzard.
"Fancy a cuppa, Mrs Bates?" Henry asked with a hopeful smile though inside he was utterly gutted. "My Granny always says that nothing calms a distraught heart like a hot cup of tea." Henry pulled a kerchief out of his waistcoat pocket and offered it to the older woman.
"That'll be lovely, thank you." Mrs Bates' voice cracked as took the handkerchief out of Henry's hand and dabbed the tears of her lashes.
"I'll go put the kettle on, then." Henry stood up to take his leave towards the kitchen, though he was stopped as a silent Mrs Bates held onto his wrist to stop him.
"I..." Began Mrs Bates, glancing awkwardly between the two supportive women who flanked her. "Was hoping I might have a moment to speak with the doctor... alone..."
"Not to worry, we'll put the kettle on, right Emily?." Mary said politely, placing a supportive hand on the woman's shoulder as she exchanged a nod with Emily and the two promptly made haste out of the room and shutting the door to the drawing room behind them to give Henry and Mrs Bates the privacy she'd asked for.
"So erm... Was there something you wished to discuss with me." Henry awkwardly stammered as he sat back down onto the sofa, anxiously wringing his hands.
"Timmy is different, isn't he." Muttered Mrs Bates, barely over a whisper; she glanced up with bloodshot red eyes dripping with tears and pain, to see the reassuring smile on Henry's face falter ever so slightly.
"H-how do you mean...?" Henry's eyes fluttered in confusion, though he very well what she meant. "I-I assure you Timmy is a very bright, intelligent, very normal young man with a bright future ahead of him."
"You know exactly what I mean, Doctor." She countered matter-of-factly, her eyes softly yet knowingly fixed upon the handsome raven haired doctor as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "He was a happy child, our Timmy. Always laughing, always playing, always a ball of energy and light whenever he'd enter a room. But as he got older, around thirteen-fourteen years old, he changed. He was still this bright, witty, intelligent boy, but there was a cloud over his head; a cloud of this sadness, source of which we could neither pinpoint nor understand. But then as I observed him, I noticed he was different; the way he'd interact with girls and boys were starkly different, different from the other boys." Henry felt the discomfort within him heighten as the conversation entered into uncharted territory he knew neither how to address nor whether to; regardless of what he did or didn't know, it wasn't his story to tell. "I just want to know, Doctor. Will my Timmy ever be happy? Will it ever truly get better for him."
"I shan't delude you by saying that it'll be easy, by any means." Henry admitted against his better judgement; for before him he saw a woman who wished now ill upon him nor his 'sort'. He merely saw a woman who wished to understand, who wished well for a son she saw suffer with perhaps the worst punishment of all; the inability to understand oneself, and the fear and uncertainty that comes with charting those unforgiving waters. "At times one might feel terribly alone, travelling upon a bleak and grim road of fear, lonesomeness, and a lack of hope. In some places one won't face legal persecutions, whilst in other places like here one will; but social acceptance remains low whether or not it's legal. Yet like so many have done, for hundreds of years, one shall survive; for being 'different' isn't new, it's always been there since the beginning of time, it's only society that cruelly labels it good or bad."
"I don't understand it all, if I'm being honest..." A sob hitched in the back of her throat as Mrs Bates mustered the words. "Our Timmy had an older brother called Oliver. He was called up during the War and died in Belgium. So even though I don't understand Timmy's situation, as a mother who has lost a son in battle, I can say one thing. I don't care what Timmy is or what it is he does, just as long as my child is happy, safe, and alive, that's my only wish for him."
"We're all grateful for your son's sacrifice for King, Country, and Empire, Mrs Bates." Henry bowed his head respectfully, watching as the older woman gave him a grateful, yet melancholic smile. "Your Timmy is a bright young lad with so much potential to excel in this world. He will have many decisions to make as to what his life will look like, but one thing I can say for absolutely certain; we meee mortals might not have the ability to see what the future has in store for us, but iI know in my heart that our Timmy's future shall be bright."
"That's awfully kind of you to say." Sniffled Mrs Bated as she dabbed the tears off her lashes with Henry's handkerchief. "I only pray he comes home safely, my heart can't bear to think of him all alone out there in the cold." she eked out the words before succumbing to the sobs she'd been bravely holding back.
"Shall we pray for our Timmy?" Offered Henry with a hopeful smile, trying with every fibre of his being to hide how shattered he was on the inside by all this.
"I'd like that very much." The older woman replied, prompting Henry to rise from where he was sitting and make his way across the room to kneel before her, taking her hands in his as they both bowed their heads and softly shut eyes in devotion.
"Dear Lord. We pray that you please watch over our Timmy and protect him from harm so that he may be able to return to us safely. Guide him so that he may find his way home and out of the bleakness of winter." Henry began, only to be cut off by the older woman.
"And help him find himself and learn to love himself so that he may be truly happy once again." She said softly, prompting Henry to raise his gaze up to look at her; a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he saw a woman before him who prayed only for her son's happiness, no matter how unconventional or wrong society told her it was.
"In Jesus' name, Amen." Henry closed out the prayer as they both fluttered their eyes open; a calm serene look about them as Henry simply smiled and gave the older woman's hand a soft squeeze in solidarity. "He is in the Lord's hands now, Mrs Bates. I have faith that all shall be well."
"Doctor Dunmurry!" Henry and Mrs Bates both flinched as they heard Mary's voice call out urgently from a distance paired with what they assumed were her heels clicking against the wood floorboards as she hastily made her way towards the drawing room. "Doctor, it's Jacob McCallister, he's in the police station asking for Constable Wilson, he says it's urgent."
"Thank you, Mary. I'll see to him forthwith." Henry smiled politely as the pretty young redhead turned on her heels to go back to helping Emily with the tea. "Oh, Mary!" Henry called out towards Mary who craned her neck towards him immediately. "Would you mind awfully just staying with Mrs Bates whilst I'm gone, I would hate to leave her alone at a time like this." Requested Henry, to which Mary was more than pleased to oblige.
He kept a calm and unbothered exterior as he bid both Mary and Mrs Bates adieu for the time being, only allowing himself to let out a stressed huff as he left the drawing room and found himself alone in the corridor leading towards the police station. He felt exposed to Mrs Bates in a way, whilst also being pleasantly surprised by her broadmindedness that he'd found to be a rarity in the times he lived in; to add to it all he felt this strange uncertainty that came with Jacob McAllister suddenly calling in to the police station mere hours after Timmy ran away. He couldn't help but dread the thought that Jacob might know something, or worse; he was had some part in it.
"Jacob?" Henry peeked into the police station's waiting area, seeing Jacob sitting hunched over at one of the benches with his empty striking blue gaze staring off blankly into the distance as his elbows rested on his knees. "Good Evening."
"Oh um." Jacob's eyes shot up with a surprised gasp, standing up with a dazed look in his eyes as he stashed something in his coat's inner pocket. "Good evening doctor." He mustered a smile though from his bloodshot eyes Henry could easily infer he'd been crying. "I was um... Looking for Constable Wilson."
"I'm afraid the Constable isn't here at the moment." Henry sighed, though he didn't approve of how Jacob treated Timmy, he knew many people like Jacob; boys who take out their own insecurities about their sexuality on others. Did it make it right? No. But did he understand it and feel they of all people needed someone to help them and psychologically support them through their journey, yes. "Perhaps I might be of assistance to you. I would be more that obliged to help."
"I..." Jacob stammered, his eyes beginning to water as his lower lip quivered. "I have to find him!" Jacob buckled over, succumbing to the sobs he'd been fighting tooth and nail to keep from bubbling to the surface. Henry rushed over to keep him from falling, helping the taller blond lad towards the bench to sit him down. "P-please don't t-tell anyone about this..." Jacob pleaded, his eyes dripping with a desperation that broke Henry's heart as a perplexed young doctor's eyes darted between Jacobs.
"Read it... H-he left it for me. Must've slipped it in my school bag while I wasn't looking." Jacob stammered as he hitched a sob in the back of his throat, digging into the his coat breast pocket to pull out a small envelop with the words "To Jacob" in the centre and "From Timmy" in the upper lefthand corner. Henry's hands trembled as he took the envelop out of Jacobs hand and opened the flap to pull out the folded letter enclosed within.
Dear Jacob,
If you're reading it is likely that I've long gone. When I sat down to write this letter, I wanted nothing more than to tell you that you've hurt me physically, mentally, as well as emotionally. I wanted to tell you that I hated you, Jacob; but as I sit here on attempt number five at writing this, I feel like perhaps I've been going at it all wrong.
I want to hate you, I should hate you. You've bullied me, taunted me, jeered at me; all while your friends were around. But when it was just you and me you used me, treated me like an object for your desires, threw me aside like I was nothing, threatened me, and though you never hit me when it was just us, it still hurt me emotionally.
But despite all this deep within my heart, as much as I hate it and as much as I don't understand it, i think I might love you. I've read that it's likely a hormone called oxytocin which is released during sexual intimacy that gives one the feeling of being bonded to or enamoured by the person they shared the encounter with, but nonetheless I feel what I feel.
I'm bonded to you Jacob McAllister. and even though you hurt me and I know you're bad for me, I still can't bring myself to hate you no matter how much my head tells me to. Which is why I've decided to leave Fir Creek. For my own sake. Because since you stopped hurting me, and stopped doing things with me, I've learnt that I need you. I need your touch. I need to feel wanted. And that just might be my own undoing. So to learn to unloved you, I've decided to run away.
But before I left I couldn't leave without at least once, knowing full well that you didn't feel any love for me, I had to tell you how I felt. You may not understand, much as I myself don't understand my own feelings; yet it is what it is. So with that I say goodbye Jacob. I truly do wish you the very best. May you find a girl to love and treat well in the way that I only wished you'd treat in my wildest daydreams.
With love, Timmy.
"Oh, Jacob." Henry sighed with heartbreak as he folded the letter back up, looking pityingly at the blond teenager as he sobbed relentlessly into his palms. "
"I have to find him!" Bawled Jacob as Henry felt his heart sink to the depths of his gut. "I have to tell him I'm sorry! I have to tell him I feel the same way for him!"
"Jacob, I-I don't know what to say." Huffed henry as he ran his hand anxiously though his raven black hair. "For starters, he's right about the hormone bit; sexual activity releases all the necessary hormones to give off the feeling of love. But all that aside, your relationship wasn't healthy for either of you; though I daresay doing a runner like that was a terribly bad shout, his point is quite valid."
"You don't understand!" Scoffed Jacob with a sniffle. "You wouldn't understand."
"I think you'll find that I understand better than you'd expect." Henry patted him comfortingly on his back. "You hurt him because you wished you could hurt yourself. You felt this resentment for yourself because of how attracted to him you were, so to cope with this self-hatred you hurt the very embodiment of your attraction... Timmy. Of course there's the added benefit for you; that hurting Timmy would keep anyone from thinking anything 'unseemly' was in play."
"I'm such an idiot!" Hearing his deepest darkest internalised thoughts being verbalised by another sent Jacob over the edge; he doubled over and began to sob louder and more heartwerenchingly than before as Henry tried his level best to comfort him. "I was so awful to him because I was afraid! I was afraid to feel how I felt him! I'm not a freak! I didn't ask to be a freak! But now he's gone and I can't even tell him how I feel or how sorry I am and how wrong I was!"
"I know mate... I know.... Shhh... It's going to be alright..." Henry comforted him with a supportive arm over him as he pulled the sobbing lad close to him to show his solidarity; for poor Jacob might've been the villain in Timmy's story, but in a way he was the villain in his own story as well, and nothing can possibly be more psychologically taxing that what both those boys have endured. "What you did to Timmy was wrong, and admitting to that and changing is the first step of many. For you cannot truly love another so long as you don't love yourself, Jacob. As long as you have this resentment for the way you were made, you won't be able to treat Timmy the way you are meant to; and that is fair to neither you and certainly nor to Timmy. You treated him like nobody should be, and though a part of me understands and has seen your perspective not just once but from many boys in my day; there is a very difficult and uncertain path to redemption. So go home, dry your tears, and should we find Timmy, and should you're paths ever cross, tell him you're sorry. And should he choses not to forgive you, which is well within his right not to, leave him alone. Do you understand?"
"I-I do.." Stammered Jacob as he wiped the tear strains off his cheek with his coat sleeve.
The bell above the entrance to the police station rang as the door swung open, bringing with it the cold wintry air from the outside. Henry and Jacob's attention shot towards the door, watching as Thomas kicked the door open with his leather winter boots, his arms otherwise occupied by a motionless teenaged boy he carried bridal style who was wrapped in blankets.
"Oh my god, Timmy!" Henry rushed towards the flustered young Constable; his cheeks a rosy pink from exposed to the unforgiving blizzard winds and the fur of his muskrat winter mountie hat matted with snow from the blizzard that besieged the prairie beyond those four walls. But it was mostly the boy in his arms who attracted Henry's attention.
"I found him in the forest, passed out under the refuge of a tree, though I daresay it didn't do much good." Huffed Thomas as he bounced TImmy in his arms to get a better grip on him.
"He's cold as ice..." Henry muttered breathily as he felt Timmy's pale frigid cheek; the slight blueish tinge to his lips offering Henry little relief from his worries for his well-being. "But, he's alive, thank God." Henry said as he placed two fingers upon the side of Timmy's neck and feeling a shallow pulse coming form his jugular. " Come, come. bring him into the drawing room and set him by the fire"
They rushed Thomas into the drawing room as hastily as humanly possibly, setting the frigid young boy in the armchair by the fire to get him as warm as possible. Mrs Bates gasped at the sight of her boy, the initial wash of relief to see him entirely eclipsed by the horror as she realised he wasn't conscious.
"Stay calm, Mrs Bates. He's alive, but it's crucial that we act soon to keep him that way. We're not out of the woods just yet." Henry instructed calmly, his sapphire blue eyes exuding a show of confidence that he knew he had to put forth to keep those around him calm; though internally he was absolutely terrified of what was to come. "We need to get him out of these wet clothes. I need blankets and loads of them, hot water bottles and some warm water and flannels to bring his body temperature up.
"W-what should I do?" Jacob asked frantically as the three women in the room dispersed to gather everything Henry mentioned to help. "I want to help him. I-I have to help him."
"You! I thought I told you to stay away from him, Jacob." Thomas' eyes glowed bright red with anger as he charged up towards Jacob and stood authoritatively before him. "Jake, I swear if I find out you've got something to do with him running away, God help you." He seethed, his voice filled with frustration and anger.
"Tom, he say's he's got nothing to do with it." Henry sprung up hastily, placing his hand on Thomas' chest as his eyes silently pleaded him to stand down. Jacob's fear laden eyes narrowed at the sight of what he'd just witnessed, noting the oddly intimate nature of Henry's hand on Thomas' chest and how rapidly it diffused the man's temper.
"Erm, Jacob I think perhaps it's best if you returned home. It'll be dawn soon, you should probably rest." Henry retracted his hand away from Thomas' chest as he realised how odd that might look, turning towards Jacob with a gently smile as though nothing had transpired.
"You..." Jacob stood up with widened eyes as he pointed between Henry and Thomas who both exchanged weary glanced. "You're like me! Y-you are.."
"I haven't a clue what you're on about." Henry shot back defensively without missing a beat as he began speedily undoing Timmy's buttons to reveal his damp, ghostly pale, wet skin.
"You..." Stammered Jacob in pure and utter shock, still trying to piece this newfound revelation together. "B-but how?!"
"Honestly do any of us know the answer to that?" Muttered Thomas out of the corner of his mouth.
"I-I had no idea..." Jacob's eyes darted across the floor.
"You'll find as you grow up that survival for men like us is fully dependant on our discretion, secrecy, and exercising caution." Henry sighed, cutting straight to the point knowing there was no point in denying it, not when they could perhaps be mentors to both lads. "Well for God's sake, mate! Don't just stand there! Help me get his clothes off, we're in a race against the clock here! And Thomas, be a dear and fetch me some towels a clean pair of my pyjamas from my cupboard."
Henry took a second, glancing down at the motionless young lad laying there, his hair disheveled and unkempt from the unforgiving winter wind, his eyes surrounded by dark circles that starkly contrasted his pale skin. He couldn't give up on him, he simply refused to.
"I have so many questions, I-I've never met anyone else like me... Other than... well, Timmy." Jacob admitted softly, his hand hovering over Timmy's cheek as though wishing to caress it, stopping short of touching him and retracting his hand away and going back to slipping off Timmy's sopping wet socks.
"It always helps to have mentors or someone close to you to guide you through it all. Trust me, I know how grim it can feel being different." Henry offered him a tender smile as he observed the seemingly insignificant moment that only marked Jacob's first sign of development. "You wanted to caress his cheek just then, what stopped you?" He asked hoping his assumptions were right.
"I feel like I've lost the right to." Jacob Admitted as Henry felt a slight glimmer of hope glow like an ember in his heart. "I don't deserve him."
16 February 1921
Dear Diary,
Words cannot even being to describe the emotional journey that the past twenty four hours have been. The uncertainty, the heartbreak, the hope, and the resurrection of faith in communal spirit. As the wee hours of morning turned to dawn, and dawn to mid-morning light, through vigilance and sheer determination we managed to nurse poor Timmy from what was a bleak prognosis to what is now a stable state.
The entire town came together splendidly in this great urgency; from people coming with food for the Bates', to tokens of emotional support like thoughtful handwritten cards wishing Timmy a speedy recovery. It is in times like this I wonder why I preferred London and it's rude anonymity to my childhood in Aldringham; for this whole situation has only reminded one just how much warmth, togetherness, and camaraderie one can find in small hamlets like Aldrinham or Fir Creek.
And though it has seemed like everyone has done their bit some way or somehow, perhaps the biggest help to me was just whom I thought a negative force for Timmy not long ago; Jacob himself. Jacob monitored him for hours, and though I told him to go home and rest, he refused outright. He kept him warm, replaced the hot water bottles that surrounded him regularly, ensured his extremities weren't neglected by applying hot water soaked flannels as warm compresses.
When Timmy finally regained consciousness after hours of us all tending to him, it was as though Timmy's sickly pale face illuminated to see Jacob right there nursing him to health. The poor lad looked as though he wasn't sure if he were in this life or the thereafter. Jacob apologised to him and told him that he had no right to hurt him the way he did; though something he shared with me beforehand that frankly impressed me. He didn't tell Timmy that he had feelings for him, for he didn't want it to sway his decision. He wanted Timmy to see him changed and forgive him organically rather than for the sake of 'love' which I can't help but find terribly profound for a lad so young as Jacob; and to Jacob's apology an ever pragmatic Timmy gave perhaps the most mature answer I could've ever expected from a young eighteen year old, 'I shall think about it'.
Love, tis a peculiar concept. Two eighteen year olds still wet behind the ears when it comes to the harsh realities of the world and it's inner workings are able to verbalise a love that they feel within their hearts and here I am, a grown man, unwilling to have that conversation with Thomas. As I watched Thomas heroically swoop in and save the day, carrying Timmy in after saving him from what I fear would've been the worst had he not found him when he did, I knew that I couldn't be more in love with him than I already am. He's everything I'd want in a lover, he's tender, loving, kindhearted, thoughtful, dutiful, loyal; and if there were a perfect world somewhere where I could marry another man and live together free of any societal norms, I would spend the rest of my life with Constable Thomas Wilson. But alas, I live in this world where loves like ours are doomed to face pitfalls. I only pray one day I'll find it in me to tell him just how much I truly, undeniably, wholeheartedly, love him.
Love, Henry
End of My Home From Home Chapter 35. Continue reading Chapter 36 or return to My Home From Home book page.