Cover image courtesy of a good friend and fan of this story: “Logan”
LINCOLN, THE FAMILY I NEVER EXPECTED
Copyright ©2017-2018 Lindon Weztser & CSU Productions. All Rights Reserved.
Full disclaimer may be viewed at http://cornercafe.us
Part – 1
January 23rd, 2016 5:42 p.m. my life took a turn. For better or worse, only time would tell. The sun was beginning to set on a cold Saturday in Columbus Ohio. I had just finished volunteering at the homeless shelter when I hopped in my truck and started the engine. As I sat in the cabin letting the engine run, I saw this boy across the parking lot near a wooden fence. He could not have been any older than ten, standing in the cold with shorts and a lightweight jacket that barely seemed to fit his upper body. As I approached him, I noticed dried blood that appeared frozen on his face, hands, and clothes. Besides the blood, he looked dirty and near frozen to death. He had massive bruises on his neck and head, as he appeared out of it and barely alive.
But before going any further, let me tell you about myself. My name is Garret J. Hamel, I am a caucasian male that stands at 6’2 and weighs in around 210 pounds. I am 30 Years old and have darker brown hair, with green eyes, my body build is not fat nor skinny, just perfect some call it. I have had tremendous amounts of luck mixed with hard work to be retired at my age. I recently sold my start-up business for $595 million to a private equity group almost one year to this exact date. Nowadays, I spend most of my time trying to donate and help out communities, and I’m in the middle of starting a foundation for children without homes. The basic concept is like an orphanage, but with many more perks, I’ll explain more in detail later. Although I was very fortunate and prosperous in my business career, that came at a price in regards to my personal life. I had met this beautiful woman during my freshman year of college at Virginia Tech. We married one month after graduation, and we were on our way to conquer the world. However, three years of marriage was all she needed as she decided that she had enough and left me devastated, with nothing but my company. I will admit most of it was my fault, I was too focused on running my business and did not pay enough attention to her. So, she found someone who gave her the attention she needed which happened to be my best friend at the time. Long story short, I haven’t seen or heard from them since. Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing besides not having my best friend steal my wife. I was hurt beyond belief, but that only added fuel to the fire in the business world. Luckily, I wasn’t dumb and listened to my parents, who insisted before I married her, that I get a prenup. My parents are loaded, and eventually, I will inherit their money along with my three older siblings, so it saved me from losing any money. Enough of me for the moment and back to the near-frozen child in the parking lot.
Without even thinking I ran to my truck and grabbed my emergency blanket to drape over his small frame.
I began, “Hang in there buddy, we will get you warm as soon as we get to the truck.”
I heard a faint, “okay.”
As I picked the boy up, I began to wonder what life threw at him, to end up covered in blood and near frozen on a frigid January night. Luckily, I had brought the truck, which made it easy for me to place him in the back seat. As I reached the driver side door, I noticed a backpack in the parking lot where he was sitting and hurried over to pick it up. When I got into the warm truck that I had left running, I asked him what his name was and where he lived, but he gave no response and appeared to be sleeping or at least that’s what I prayed he was doing. I began the drive to my home which was located about an hour and a half North of Columbus. As we drove, I started to notice some color in his face reappear but was still visibly shaken, near frozen, and seemed out of it.
So I questioned, “Hey buddy, warming up yet?” To which he did not reply, so I stated, “Well if you can hear me, I am here to help you as much as I can. My name is Garret J. Hamel. We are going back to my house for the time being until we both have a better understanding of what is happening. So some information would be helpful if you can manage a few words to say.”
He rubbed his throat and tried to speak but not many words were spoken, and they were not recognizable.
I began again, “At the moment all I need is one to two-word answers think you can manage that?”
He returned, “Okay,” and I resumed the questions, “We will start with a simple one, what is your name bud?”
“Nice to meet you Lincoln! How old are you?” I responded.
“Eleven, just turned…” he coughed and let out a whimper.
“Easy bud, do not try and overdo it, take it slow, okay? Speak at your own pace.”
To which Lincoln replied in a somewhat dazed state “Okay”.
“Do you know where I found you,” I asked.
“No” was all he could manage to say.
“Why were you in the cold?” I asked.
All I heard was a mumble and slurred speech.
“Alright Lincoln, we still have about 30 minutes until we reach home, so get some sleep okay?” And with that, he seemed to drift off immediately.
I was pondering so many questions in my head, such as who could leave this boy out in the cold? Why was he bruised on his neck and head? Why could he not speak more than a few words?
I was starting to get angrier the more and more I thought about the possibilities the child has gone through in the past hours, days, or weeks that he was alone. I had tons of questions but would have to wait until he could speak more than one word. I also knew I needed to gain his trust.
As we arrived at my house, I pulled into the five car garage and parked. My house was overly large for just me, but I loved it. The house came with a pool, hot tub, waterfront access where in the summer I had my boats docked. The house was equipped with six Bedrooms, seven and a half baths and a size of 13,756 sqft that sat on fifteen acres of land. Generally, during Christmas, my whole family would come to my house to stay for the holidays, so at least I can say the rooms were occupied once a year! I have neighbors, but the homes are so far apart from each other, that I barely see them besides neighborhood block parties and events.
I noticed that he wasn’t awakened by the stoppage of the car, so I unbuckled the seat belt and carried him into the house. I smelled a terrible stench coming from him and felt that his body was still cold. So I went up into the bathroom and started to draw a bath.
I told him, “We are going to put you in the bathtub, hopefully, it warms you up, and we can get you clean, understand?”
He quietly mumbled, “Okay.”
As I began to undress him, I pulled his shirt over his head and immediately noticed marks on his back. To me, it looked as if he was beaten by a bat or some type of object. I feared what I would see when I removed the rest of his clothing. As I lowered his shorts and underwear, my heart sank to my stomach, and what I feared was true. His rear end looked a complete utter mess, it appeared as if his butt was groped, beat to bruised, and scratched to the point of bleeding. Before I could carry on with his bath, I needed to step outside the bathroom to regain my composure and wipe a few tears away from my eyes and thought, “Who the fuck could do this to a child?” But I could not let my emotions get the best of me.
I cleaned every part of him, trying to be as gentle as I possibly could on his bruised sections. I picked him out of the tub and moved him to a spare bedroom of mine and began to towel him dry. When I reached his penis, I gently dried his member but took note that he started to pop a small boner. I decided that was a good sign because it meant his blood was circulating throughout his body. At this time I was in awe, this boy was absolutely gorgeous, even though he was bruised and beaten, you could tell how adorable Lincoln is. I could see he hadn’t entered puberty yet as his tool stood around two and a half inches with not a spec of hair above his member or under his arms. Lincoln looked a little underweight and short for his age. He stood at 4’6″ and weighed around 70 pounds, and since it was winter, he did not have much of a tan. His hair color is light brown with a few touches of blonde in them. He has the most amazing blue eyes I had ever seen, and at the moment I knew I was in love with him. Not the creepy kind of love, but the type in which I wanted better for him, wouldn’t let anyone ever hurt this child, and I would do everything in my power to make sure he never hurt the way he did tonight. But I could not tell him this, because I have known so little about him, and I needed to show him I cared so he could trust me.
I did not have many clothes that fit him, so I decided to put one of my T-Shirts on him which covered everything, as the bottom of the shirt reached his kneecaps. I let him rest for a while as the clock read 8:30 p.m. and I went down to fix him and I some dinner.
I wasn’t the greatest of chefs as I usually had someone come cook and clean my house for me, but they were away on vacation. Although that didn’t mean I couldn’t make a delicious pasta dinner with garlic bread and meatballs. I was going to make enough for the both of us because I couldn’t tell you when was the last time Lincoln ate, it could have been a week for all I know.
Just as the garlic bread was finishing up, I heard Lincoln coming down the stairs.
“Hi bud,” I stated.
“Hey,” he whispered.
“Throat still hurt?” I asked.
“Yeah, its a bit better, but still hurts.” That was the most prolonged responses I had received from him so far.
“Hungry?” I inquired.
“Yes!” As a small smile appeared on his face.
“Great, sit down, and I’ll grab us some plates and drinks. Dinner should be ready any moment now, hope you like pasta and garlic bread.”
“Thanks and I do,” replied Lincoln.
“I hope you don’t mind the Big t-shirt since your clothes are being washed, but it looks like you will have to kick it commando style for the night.” This caused him to giggle which was music to my ears.
As we ate, there was not much conversation as he devoured 3 plates of pasta, which was amazing to see. After we finished, I saw him take his dish to the dishwasher. I took this as an opportunity to go grab a piece of paper and pen so he could write instead of talking. I sat him down and explained why I wanted to know more information and to see if he had any questions.
“So Lincoln, I started the conversation the last time, and since you haven’t had much to say, I will let you open with a question if you have any.”
To which he quickly wrote, “are you going to hurt me, Mr. Hamel.”
I replied somewhat shocked, “No never, I want to help you and I will do everything in my power to make sure you are not put back in the condition I found you, do you understand?”
And with that, he started to cry. I picked him up and cradled him in my arms as he sunk his head into my chest. I almost lost my emotions too, but knew I needed to put on a strong and supportive front.
“Let it out, no one is going to hurt you anymore, I promise. You are safe and do not have to worry about anything.” I said. After a few minutes of crying, Lincoln’s tears seemed to subdue, and we could carry on with our conversation. As he sat in my lap, his shirt had ridden up and exposed his penis, without making too much of a scene for him. I pulled the shirt back down to his knees, to which he replied “Thanks, Mr. Hamel.”
“Don’t mention it bud, and please don’t call me Mr. Hamel. Mr. Hamel is my father, you can call me Garret.” I insisted.
I received a simple, “Okay!”
“Lincoln, I want you to trust me, I am here for you, okay? You can tell me anything, and I swear to you that anything you say or did in the past, I will not be mad. My top priority is to make sure you are safe from here on out!” I stated, to which he responded with a half smile and a hug. I knew it would be a long time before he would trust me, but I hoped that this could be a starting point.
Trying to figure out more about my little angel, I questioned him further, “Why were you in the parking lot, and do you know how you got the bruises on your neck, back, and bum?”
He quickly jotted down, “I don’t know, please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, I promise Lincoln,” as I gave him a squeeze on his shoulder to reassure him.
Sensing that our conversation was leading to nothing, I tried to think of a way to spark his memory, but my own mind was drawing blanks. As we sat and looked at each other, I did remember his backpack, and I quickly lifted him off my lap and said, “Be right back, I found something of yours.” I was hoping he would be happy that I salvaged his bag and we didn’t leave it there. Oh, boy was I wrong, as soon as I showed him the backpack, his face went pale. Everything this boy has been through seemed to rush back to him, and it was hitting him like a brick wall.
“My brothers,” he sobbed as I rushed over to him and he collapsed in my arms.