CJ: Summer: Chapter 1 Out in the Street
Gay Male-Relationships Gay Male-High School
This is a work of fiction set in the real world. Certain living individuals make appearances in the story; all other characters and the events in which they all participate are the creation of the author. Any resemblance of the fictional characters to actual individuals is purely coincidental.
Thursday, 16 May 2013
CJ loved spending time with his dad, and always looked forward to their summer visits in Washington. They hadn't seen each other since November, because of the school sponsored mission to Haiti, he had participated in during Spring Break. That was a time when they usually traveled somewhere together. This trip was different; instead of anticipating a wonderful time, he dreaded the upcoming reunion. He'd spent the two and a half hour flight from Miami International, replaying the events of the past couple of days in his mind. One thought kept running through his mind: How could things have gone so wrong so quickly?
Cesar paced nervously in front of the Concourse B Security Point at Washington's National Airport-he had never gotten used to the Reagan name on the old, but convenient facility. The Delta flight from Miami, carrying his son, had just landed and he wasn't sure what to expect. Yesterday's phone call from the boy's mother had been short, and to the point. Their kid, CJ, would be on a flight to DC the next morning; he would explain what was going on and she expected a call back from the father the day following his arrival.
Passengers on the flight streamed down the corridor as the tall, dark haired man kept looking for his boy until the flow of people thinned down, finally seeing a young man who had to be his pup. However, what a difference from what the kid had looked like the previous Thanksgiving. Walking towards him was a muscular teen who had hit a growth spurt, a very significant growth spurt. At least four inches in the last six months, he had also added quite a few pounds of what looked like solid muscle.
"CJ!" called out the smiling father. The youth lifted his gaze slightly, and slowly dragged himself towards his dad.
"Wow, I barely recognized you, buddy; how are you?" He threw his arms around his son, wrapping him in a hug.
That was all it took for the emotions to take over; the boy began sobbing, against his father's chest, while repeatedly mumbling how sorry he was.
"Hey, hey! Whatever you think you have to apologize for is probably not so bad. I'm sure we can work it all out. How many pieces of luggage did you check in? Let's go get them and head home."
Cesar Marcos Abello, Jr. was a fairly typical teenager until two days before, when the shit hit the fan at home, and his life was turned upside down.
Born in Miami, the boy moved to Germany, when his stepfather was transferred to Ramstein Air Base. The family returned to South Florida in 2009. A friendly but reserved kid, CJ made friends easily, and had no problems adjusting to life back in the United States.
A straight 'A' student, the teen also participated in several athletic endeavors, both individual and team sports; his favorite activity however, was spending time with his younger brother Ritchie. The five-year age difference was never an issue and the older boy delighted in having the youngster tag along with him wherever he went.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I swore I wasn't gonna be a pussy." He adjusted his backpack and started walking towards the baggage claim area as he wiped his face with the back of his hands.
"There's one suitcase and two very large duffle bags."
"It's okay bud, let's get your luggage and then we can spend some time figuring out what's going on. That's a lot of luggage for a summer vacation, how come?"
"Oh fuck! Mom didn't tell you?" exclaimed CJ as he came to a sudden stop. "She said she'd talked to you and I was gonna be living with you here in DC from now on. They threw me out in the street and now I'm going to be homeless!"
Cesar's mouth hung open in complete surprise. Seeing his boy's eyes start to tear up again, he put an arm around the teen's shoulders and said, "CJ, I have no idea what's going on, but I promise you'll never be homeless as long as I'm around. You'll always have a home here with us." The man hoped the emphasis he tried to place on his words, would help soothe the boy's obvious fears.
The drive from the airport to Georgetown was not long. It took just a bit over fifteen minutes: the George Washington Parkway, the Francis Scott Key Bridge across the Potomac and into the old DC neighborhood. Conversation was minimal inside the car; both men lost in their thoughts, with no mention of the large elephant in the back seat.
The father kept looking over at his son still not believing the physical change. He was now about 5' 10" tall and probably weighed about 175 pounds; mostly lean muscle from what he could see. The kid was shaving regularly, he noticed the stubble on his chin. His dark hair reached down to his shirt collar, standing up all over the place on top, framing a handsome face. An attractive young man who appeared to be older than his actual age, he had gone from being a skinny boy to a stud in the span of months.
He must be fending off young women right and left,' Cesar thought. He wondered if he was sexually active, and whether that was why he had been sent north. Maybe he got in some sort of trouble with a girl? He would wait until they got home. Hopefully the youngster would relax, and they could chat about whatever had transpired back in Miami.
The black Escalade turned into the driveway to the right of a large townhouse on Prospect Street. As it passed the end of the house it angled a bit left, drove over a brick patio up to the opening garage door, and pulled into the middle of the large space. To the left were two covered motorcycles, along the back wall were shelves full of boxes, tools hung from peg-board panels, and were also scattered over a couple of workbenches benches. Past the motorcycles, there was a door to a corridor, which led to an elevator, and a door opening into the home's first floor.
Built back in the 19th Century, the house had been extensively remodeled at various times; the most recent upgrades having been made in 2010 when they bought the place. At the time, it was gutted and completely modernized inside. The building rose three stories above street level with a rooftop terrace crowning the structure. A full sized basement was partially finished but provided plenty of space for future needs. The elevator had been installed by a previous owner, who had a wheelchair bound child.
"Hey kiddo, grab your backpack and suitcase, I'll take the two duffle bags; let's put everything in your room now and then you can freshen up. We cleaned it up yesterday after your mother called, so it's ready and waiting for you. Don't bother unpacking yet, we can hang out and catch up. We'll figure what to do about food a bit later."
After carrying the luggage up to the second floor, C‚sar pointed at the bathroom mentioning there were fresh towels inside, and that he would meet the young man downstairs. Once in the living room, he moved toward the bar on the side and grabbed himself a Dos Equis Amber, popped the bottle cap, and had a long swig of the beer. A little early on a Thursday to start drinking, but he wanted to relax. He needed to control his emotions, think clearly, and be steady until he figured this shit out.
Ten minutes later, CJ walked in looking hesitant and keeping his eyes on the rich Persian rug covering most of the highly polished wood floor. The boy was wearing the typical South Florida teenage uniform of flip-flops, cargo shorts and t-shirt. A white one with the -Big Three- on the front along with Miami HEAT and 2012 NBA Champions in the old Miami Vice font and colors of pink and blue.
"What can I get you to drink, buddy?" asked C‚sar with a smile on his face.
The boy looked down and softly asked if he could have a beer.
OK, something to file away for further discussion. Could the problem be alcohol or drugs? thought the father. Not wanting to make a big deal of it right now, he pulled another bottle from the refrigerator under the bar top, and opened it for his son. CJ, was just taking a seat, on one of the stools across from his father.
"Thanks, Dad; don't worry I don't have a drinking problem. I just want to calm down a little so I can talk to you".
The older man smiled again realizing his son was one smart cookie. He would keep an eye out for any sign of trouble, but decided for now, a long discussion about alcohol would not be needed. He would handle it right this minute with a couple of sentences. "That's good to hear, big guy. I don't mind you having a drink now and then, but until you turn twenty-one, it's still illegal for you to consume alcohol and we could all get in trouble. Our country's stupid puritanical laws, won't even allow a parent to give his kids a drink in their own home. Think about that whenever you decide to have one, until you hit the magic age. You're not a little kid and I won't treat you as one; I'm pretty sure you're smart enough to know what's right.
"So, you think you're ready to fill me in on what happened?" asked the father, keeping his eyes on the boy.
CJ looked up at his dad, his eyes filling up with tears again, and then just blurted out, "I'm gay, Rich caught me fooling around with one of his soldiers, and told Mom he didn't want me to live in their house anymore. He said I had to move in with you or go to boarding school; he wouldn't have a faggot living under his roof."
At that point, the waterworks began anew; the kid put his head down on the bar surface and just cried. Cesar walked around the bar and grabbed his son in the tightest hug he could muster. Stroking CJ's hair, the heart-broken father tried to calm him down. His thoughts, however, were anything but calm. Who gave a shit, if the boy was gay, in this day and age? This is the twenty-first fucking century and his mother's husband is acting like a troglodyte. How could anyone be so stupid and so heartless? Rich better not show his face around any time soon or he'll end up in the hospital for sure. Bashing his head in will be a pleasure if I see him.
"CJ, buddy, look at me. Look at me, baby." He unwrapped himself from around his son, helping him sit back on the stool. "Why don't I dump these two beers and get us two tall glasses of cold milk and some Oreos? They work best for me when I need to chill. And let's go sit down on the couch, we'll be more comfortable."
"Okay, Dad," mumbled the boy.
Trying not to display the anxiety and anger coursing through him, Cesar returned with the promised treats, sat next to his son and put an arm around him gently pulling the boy into his body. The next ninety minutes were spent trying to reassure the youngster that his world had not collapsed. Yes, he would have to leave his current school and friends behind and start over again, but he most definitely had a place to call home. The lives of all of them would be affected. They would have to adjust accordingly; but they were in this together and together they would work it all out.
The continued reassurances had the desired effect. After a while, CJ began to relax, regain his composure and take an interest in his dad's comments about the move from South Florida to the nation's capital. He had the next few months to get settled in and that would not be very hard considering this was not his first summer at the large Georgetown brownstone. The big changes would come in late summer when he would start tenth grade in a new high school. He would miss his friends and his old school, but the possibilities for him were good in his new city. Once he overcame the current crap he was going through, he was sure the future would not appear so daunting.
Suddenly, a deep rumble came from his midsection and both father and son started laughing.
"I guess that means your stomach wants to be fed?"
"Yeah, I'm a growing boy, you know?"
"I can just imagine how much a growing fifteen year old can eat. If you're anything like your old man was, our food budget will definitely have to be increased. Guess I'll have to postpone my retirement at least six months so we can afford to eat!"
Their laughter intensified each time one of them would look at the other and realized the absurdity of the last portion of their conversation. As their mirth subsided, the sound of keys in a lock made them turn around to look at the front door.
"Honey, it's lunchtime; I'm home, and I'm hungry. Did we finally get a visit from the stork? Do we have a new bundle of joy to take care of? asked a familiar voice.
Copyright 2015 CJ Abello
Would love to hear what you think: cjabello1997@gmail.com
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