Discovering Gregory Chapter 51 I Want To Go Home
Yes, I've been smelling my typewriter ribbons for too long.(Oh, for you under twenty guys, a typewriter was a gizmo you wrote stuff on but it didn't remember anything). Thank you, all 83 of you who emailed as of Wednesday a.m. when I started this chapter, and yes this ones for you. I will take your kind words to heart, and for the two of you who said, stop already, sorry! You loose.
Our politicians continue to beguile and insult us. We remain the only group it is politically correct to hate.
...And so I can envision Mr. Santorum and those of his ilk standing in the school house door in Arkansas, saying to Thomas McLauglin, "We don't want your kind here", but I think politicians have already pulled that one. They think we forget all the crap they pull but we remember.
We remember AIDS and how the politicians sat silently by because it was only filling "fags and drug addicts."
They said on Hardball last night that the fuss over blatantly homophobic remarks "will blow over in three days, because no one cares about..." the issue was the word they used but I thought they wanted to say... fags.
The Supreme Court is about to rule on the Texas sodomy laws and President Gore can't wait for this ruling. Rick Santorum has jumped on the gay bashing bandwagon and although he isn't on the Supreme Court... yet, he's casting his vote with the radical right, and they want to know what's going on in everyone's bedroom. Isn't there a word for that? Do you thing these folks are anal retentive or what?
Thomas McLauglin! He's still my hero. At 14 he's standing up to the radical right with the support of his parents. Go to my website and read about it at the top of the opening page on the left side under Intolerance:
www.writersrealm.net
The book is scheduled for release toward the end of May. That's firm if there are no more delays. It's the first time I've done this, so the next book will be more predictable now that we know all the steps and where the delays are.
Chapter 51 I Want To Go Home
Greg was sitting beside his bed reading Popular Mechanics when I got there Monday. He seemed happy after the weekend at home. My parents were still taking it all in stride, but I hadn't proposed that I move up to Greg's so I could have a hand in his rehabilitation.
Greg was coming out Friday night and his mother was picking him up after work. They were going to the mountains and I was invited. Greg wasn't thrilled but I was looking forward to the fresh mountain air. The subject didn't come up for the rest of the week and Greg was preoccupied with when he could finally get out of the hospital for good. The doctors were still giving him long uneasy looks and they couldn't give him an answer.
They were carefully monitoring the bad leg, or the worse leg, although his right leg seemed to be coming right along. He could get to the bathroom on his own after they cut the big cast down to a more manageable size but they intended to beef it up again on Friday before they allowed him off base. He still needed his crutches once he moved away from the bed.
It seemed to me there was still a lot of concern for his left leg. The words were never spoken, but the doctors still stared long and hard into the X-rays, and that was in front of us, I don't know what they were doing with them when they got off alone. They said it was fine but there was no enthusiasm in their words and Greg and I both saw the troubled looks on their faces. He did say anything so I didn't, but the more I thought about the mountains the more I worried about him falling and really screwing himself up for good.
I knew his parents wouldn't take any risks with him and so I trusted everyone knew exactly what they were doing, because I didn't. It was going on a year now and he still wasn't well on the road to recovery. I'd never heard of anyone spending so much time in traction and casts, although his new freedom with his right side was obvious. He was more mobile and more mischievous than ever, but it was all mixed up with something I couldn't read.
Greg had developed a charm about him that he never had before. He smiled a lot when there really wasn't a lot to smile about. He joked around and enjoyed pissing me off. He usually did this by teasing me about something or other. He was becoming more like a kid than maturing more as time went on, but what do you expect when you're locked up for months on end. I tried to humor him without letting myself get too pissed off, but he pissed me off just on account he could.
I caught up in school that week, although I got a D on my English paper because I spent about fifteen minutes on it, and that's exactly how it read, and my B average was in jeopardy. How did I know? The English teacher went out of her way to tell me. I was no whiz in anything but I was able to hold my own. I couldn't afford to fail English for a lot of reasons, not the least of which was that my parents would kill me and then ground me.
Turning eighteen meant they really couldn't do anything any longer, not as long as I lived under their roof, but they knew as well as I did that it wasn't an issue because I was rarely there and planning on moving into Greg's as soon as he came home. My parents would bitch and moan, because they didn't miss a chance to bitch and moan, but in the end I'd do what I wanted. I suppose they had tried a lot harder than I had the last few years, but I got fourteen years of shit, and it don't wash off so easy from my perspective.
I needed my parents to be there for me when I was ten, not when I was eighteen. Eighteen was easy. You didn't have to do anything. At eighteen I could get it all done on my own. And as I passed that last great milestone in time and became a man, only Greg mattered to me, not the past, not the future, nothing but Greg. Where he goes I go and the most remarkable part about that was, it was fine with him. Even after he was free, even in short spurts, he seemed to depend on me now.
I handed in a makeup paper in English on Thursday and the teacher was all smiles and acted like she hadn't expected me to do that. She glanced over the three pages and marked a B on the top, handing it back still smiling.
"That's better. You seem preoccupied, Martin. Is everything okay?" She asked with a teacher's concern in her voice.
"Everything is great," I said, leaving her with a curious look on her face.
By Friday I was caught up except in Chemistry and I didn't think I'd ever catch up in Chemistry. It was too complicated and my mind wasn't in it. I'm not sure why. My typing teacher entered me in a typing contest and I didn't dare balk but I would need to find an out on that one. I needed the grade and I was her pet and I didn't want to add her to the list of people I was shortchanging for time.
For there was only time for Greg and spending time with him was all I wanted to do with my life after high school. I would pass but no thanks to any superior effort. I just didn't care about that. I went to school to keep peace at home and if it wasn't for that little detail, I'd probably have been up at the hospital all the time, although I was no longer required.
Nurse Atilla seemed fond of Greg and Greg was nice to her and most of the other nurses for that matter. My importance to their peace of mind hand diminished as the months rolled on.
Greg had been tamed. I didn't think his spirit was broken. but something major was going on inside of him and I didn't know what it was. He was becoming more and more quiet and our even our conversations had become quiet and agreeable. I remembered a time when we didn't agree on anything. If he said hot, I said cold, if he said up, I said down. We were simply contrarians when it came to one another. It took a lot of energy back then, just being near him. Now I was so close to him all the time it was almost like we were joined in some way. Of course I was addicted to him but my being so close was no longer a problem.
And so I wondered if he was okay. I mean to have him and end up with someone that wasn't Greg, wasn't what I wanted, as much as I wanted him. I wanted him to be him and he wasn't quite. Maybe he had changed and maybe I had and maybe all the discord and anger that we spent on each other was gone, but I feared it was something else, something I couldn't see or even understand. There was less of Greg than there had been and I don't even know what that means, but it was true. With all the smiles and the agreeableness came uncertainty.
That's not to say we didn't argue at all. We did but it was about stupid stuff. We got on each others nerves because we were on top of each other constantly, but as soon as I got ten feet away, he needed something. As soon as I got in the door he needed something. And then there were the times he'd put his head on my shoulder and just sat there silently, not doing a damn thing.
It was great but I still worried that something inside him had withered and finally died and I prayed he would come all the way back, even if it didn't end up quite like I wanted oy. There was something about that arrogant, cocky, over confident and self-aware Greg that I loved and I wanted him to have that still, but just not quite as much as before, maybe a prince instead of king. I could live with that.
I went straight up to the hospital after school on Friday. Greg wanted to make out as soon as I got in the room. He said he was afraid we wouldn't have any time alone once we got to the mountains. It was great for me because he was usually overheated when I got there and we'd have a few minutes before his mom came.
After a half an hour I started worrying about his mother showing up early but he needed me to love him more than usual and I did, until he was drained and panting and lying flat on his back on the bed, and I noticed it again. The fire had gone out of him, no impish delight or teasing, and no second or third round that had been routine up until the last few weeks. He was perfectly content taking just one, and so I was, well, no I wasn't because I had adjust my modest appetite to his big appetite, but I had to make do. There are certain things you just can't make someone do.
His mother hugged me when she came in and she'd never done that before. She didn't say anything, she just hugged me and then hugged Greg, who was dosing at the time and that woke him up.
"How's my baby boy?" She asked in that little girl voice.
"Your son is fine, mother," he said, not approving of being a little anything.
He had to sit in the back seat and that left me in the front, leaning over the back seat so we could talk, even if we didn't have anything to say. His mother chatted us up, regaling us with tales that were outrageously funny. She smiled and seemed happy. I wasn't use to happy. I mean I was happy but I didn't show it. I'd never done happy that much. Even when I was happy I was worried about when I wouldn't be happy. I guess that's kind of a waste. There isn't enough happy to waste any in my book, but I was young and had time to learn.
When we got to the house, I was in charge of getting Greg down to the kitchen while his mother unloaded the trunk. We had to stop twice so he could catch his breath. If I had let go of him he'd have kept rolling until he got down to the river three terraces below the house. I didn't let go of him and he held onto me tight even in front of his mother. I think he was afraid of something and I wasn't sure it was the hill that he feared.
"You made it," his mom said as we got through the door. "Come on. You guys get the back room. We put a big bed in there last week. I don't know if there will be enough room with that damn cast they put on him. I don't see why they don't leave the small cast on. Sure would be easier."
"Yeah, and after I screw my leg up again, it'll never heal," Greg snapped, not interested in his mother's observations just then. "I don't know why I had to come up here. I can't do anything but sit in the house.
"Well excuse me. Do we need a little nappy, Gregie?"
"Mom," he said impatience in his voice as he indicated I should help him to where he was going.
Greg stood in the middle of the bedroom with his arm around my shoulder looking at the one big bed in the middle of the room. There wasn't anything else in the room.
"Yeah, I'm tired," he said, looking at me as if to say he wanted to be left alone now. He didn't even need to speak. I read him like a book.
His mother poured me some lemonade and we sat at the dinning room table. I felt tired but I didn't know why. It was still afternoon.
"Doug is coming with his father. He's looking forward to seeing you, Martin. He keeps asking if you've come around the house. I could ask too. You know you're welcome anytime you want to come up. We all like you."
"I don't have a lot of time with school and...."
"You don't need to explain. I just wanted to say that.... He wouldn't have made it without you. I think you've done more for him than we have. He doesn't like us getting too close, Martin, never has. He's gotten so close to you though. Greg has never been close to anyone... but that's Greg. That boy has always loved himself. It's a good change. I like him more than I use to. Is that a terrible thing to say about your kid or what?" She said, laughing. "He's always been sure of himself. I mean I'm happy he is but it can make for some difficult times. Disciplining him just broke his spirit, so rather than risk that, we let him be Greg. Lord help us all. He can be a bit overpowering. Not around you though."
"I like him more now too. He seems... he seems... I don't know, is he going to be okay? I mean all of him? He's gotten real quiet. The doctors have gotten real quiet. They don't say anything in front of us any more."
"They say so. His father has been keeping something from me but I'm not sure what. If there was any serious trouble he'd tell me that but I know when he isn't telling me everything. He'll be okay. He's Greg. He's changing is all, growing up, becoming a man, finding himself. It's not easy for someone like him to be dependent. He's never been dependent, not that I can remember."
"No, I guess not. They're so different."
"The boys? Yes, they are. Night & day. I never had to discipline Doug. If he does anything wrong he comes to me with it. He's such a good boy. Doug is sensitive in a way that worries me. I think he loves easy and hurts deep. That can wear on you, you know. It's always worried me. Greg is good for Doug. Makes him tougher, but not in a mean way. Doug is sweet and Lord knows I could never say that about Greg. I mean I love him dearly and he's quite the man but sweet, I don't think so. Greg is Greg. He's a classic."
I was even less comfortable after that conversation. If Greg's mom didn't know I loved her son, she was blind. How anyone, including his father could miss that little tidbit... no way. So, if they knew I loved Greg and they were putting us in one, albeit gigantic, bed, did that than mean if they discovered us in a compromising situation, they'd be okay with it?
I don't think so. No, as long as they didn't have to deal with their son sucking cock or taking it up the ass, it was cool, but that specter would certainly shake the dew off the lily pretty damn quick. I don't think the Colonel walking into the bedroom and seeing his son rolled up on one side with my dick up his ass was going to cut the mustard. Now if it was the other way around and I was the one with the dick up my ass, there would be a fighting chance that he could overlook the youthful indiscretion. Boys'll be boys, you know.
The mountains were now dangerous, more so because I was in the same bed along with my lover and his parents were right across the hall.
Well we just heard a noise, I could hear them saying after they opened the door to the bedroom, or, we were just checking on him.
Right! ...And it was a long walk home.
I had everything I wanted and could have asked for and I was scared shitless that Greg's demands were going to lead us down a dead end road. I was not going to encourage him. I was going to keep my hands off him and try to keep enough distance between us so that we didn't get started. Right! The moon's made of green cheese and I'm a monkey's uncle.
Doug came and he looked really good. When I stood up to shake his hand he somehow ended up in my arms, hugging me. I glanced at his mother as Doug's intoxicating smell went up my nose. My dick started to rise as I felt his body. His mom had turned toward the sink after her hug and his father came in a minute behind Doug.
"Martin!" He sang, smiling boldly, giving me his hand, and then slipping his arm over my shoulder. "Want to go hunting with me and the Ikster tonight?"
"I'm not much of a hunter, sir," I said, not wanting to kill anything if it wasn't absolutely necessary.
"Yeah, you're a fisherman, right? Taken some nice cat out of the river already. The poles are downstairs. You be sure and make yourself at home. Good to have you back. You should come around the house more," he said, opening the fridge and grabbing a Pabst, never losing the smile or the cordiality he exuded.
"I think he'll be staying up with Greg when he comes home, dear," Greg's mom said as the couple gave one another a passing hug.
"Well that's great. Don't know how that boy would have made it without you, Martin. I've got to tell you I've rarely seen a man as loyal as you, and I've seen loyal men, yes, sir, I've seen my share of those. You're a keeper for sure."
"Yes, sir," I said, feeling like we were getting dangerously close to a conversation I didn't want to be in.
"Come on, let's go to the river," Doug said. "I've been waiting for you to come back down here forever and we still have an hour of daylight."
"You two go ahead. I'll keep an eye on Greg. He looked awful tired," Greg's mom said and we were heading out of the kitchen door.
Doug looked like a million bucks. He'd cut his hair short and it shinned gold in the sun that was about to disappear behind the trees across the river from us. He walked a little ways ahead of me and I noticed how his ass filled his jeans. I wasn't sure it had been that round, that full before. He looked bigger, heavier, not heavy by any means, but like he was filling out. At seventeen Doug was too hot to handle and the old stirrings were stirring but nothing suggestive was said. It was all quite platonic in an uncomfortable sort of way.
He did hold my hand once we were out of sight from the house but it didn't bother me. His hand was even bigger, still soft, and there was now blond silken hair starting to appear ever so lightly on his arms. It only took him a few seconds to take the rope down to the riverside, leaving me to watch. Then he looked like Greg, his arms bulging and the sureness built into his moves. He pulled his shirt off as quick as his feet were on the rocks below. He was unfastening his pants when I got to the river's edge.
"Come on. Strip! We'll catch a swim before dinner. There's time."
"It's cold," I complained.
"Martin, it isn't cold. I've been swimming since March. The water's warm from the sun."
"What sun? It's almost dark."
"Will you cut it out. It's only the shade from the trees. Please, I want you to swim with me."
He was naked in front of me and every line was as beautiful or more so than it had been. When he turned his cock was half-hard and it was a natural place for my eyes to settle. He had thickened some but he still had some less than Greg, although he had been closing the gap since the last time we were naked together. His light blond dusting of pubic hair was slightly richer and golden hairs now dusted the inside of each leg.
He wasn't smiling as he stared at me. There was a determination on his face and a maturity that hadn't been there before. Perhaps the grooves around his mouth had deepened, perhaps it was the shadows, but Doug looked older. He took in deep breaths and his chest expanded and relaxed with each. His nipples had tightened ever so slightly from the coolness of the shadows.
"You coming?"
"Not quite," I said, finding it difficult to breathe.
"You've got a one track mind. Comes from be with my brother too much," he grumbled.
His dick had fattened and stood straight out by the time he turned toward the water. I watched as he carefully negotiated the rock bottom as the water slowly started to cover his legs. He was up to his knees before I was naked and he had dropped down in the rushing river by the time I started into the water.
"It's cold," I complained again, stopping to put my hand down on a rock to keep my balance.
"Come on," he yelled, "Don't be such a pussy."
Greg was in his voice. The taunt was all his. If it was possible Doug was growing up to be even more amazing than he was. His kind of beauty rarely lasted into adulthood and yet he seemed determined to defy that knowledge. I could see his feet and his limp dick above the water as I finally got out to him.
"Come on. Get your ass wet. God, Martin, I don't remember you being such a sissy," he barked.
"Fuck you," I said to Greg, before I appreciated it was Doug barking his displeasure with me. I was suddenly aware that his displeasure with me had little to do with my ass being cold.
It brought a flush of anger to me and a memory of the way things had been for so long. I eased down into the swift moving cool waters rather than hear any more insults tossed my way. It wasn't like Doug to be cruel. I watched his eyes as he took everything in and he bobbed like a cork as the water moved around him.
"Isn't this great," he marveled.
"It's cold," I said, feeling every degree of temperature in the cold water.
"It's run off. It's supposed to be cold. It was snow yesterday."
"Oh great! Thanks a lot, Doug. Like I needed to know that?"
He sprung up and was on me like a cat would spring on a mouse. At first my head went under and I choked on the fresh water and then his body was against mine. His arms were around me. His dick was against me. He was hard. I was hard. We wrestled for superiority but he ended up on top of me, our erections rubbing as he laughed Greg's laugh, and then his hips moved on mine, not a purposeful thrust, more an involuntary response to a stimulus.
Our eyes were together. His laughing stopped and my fear of him subsided. Doug had changed. He was taking things from Greg it would have been better for him to leave alone. I wasn't sure his natural beauty hadn't finally gone to his head and convinced him he could take what he wanted.
He didn't let me up but instead let his face down until it brushed mine. His delicate skin still hadn't seen a razor and the feel of him on me was thrilling. He had one of my wrists in each of his hands and he stayed there on top of me.
"You warm now," he asked softly in my ear after we stared a while.
"I think I've had enough... swimming," I said, feeling guilty for my thoughts.
"HEY BOYS! Time for dinner," the colonels voice carried across the river.
Shit, I thought, how can things get so fucked up. "Okay, Pop," Doug yelled in my face.
Doug wasn't startled and he didn't react immediately, only sliding off me and onto his back after a minute.
"Sorry," he said softly. "Still friends?"
"Always," I said and we were wading back to shore, erections swinging in the breeze.
Once we were back up under the cliff he was on me again without warning and when I turned to confront him, he kissed me. It wasn't a friendly peck or anything like that. Doug was taller than I was now. He had to bend slightly to kiss me properly. I kissed him back without having any intentions of kissing him but I held him and I let him hold me and I felt more guilt. The worst part was, it was very similar to being with Greg two years before. Doug had become his brother and that turned me off and it turned me on as his hands were all over me.
Then he stood back, his cock standing straight out, but he didn't notice it the way I did. We were back in the deepening shadows and I wasn't cold any more, nor was I hungry, not for dinner anyway.
"Sorry," he said exactly as he had said it before. "You love my brother?"
"Yes," I said loud and clear with my erection punching holes in the night.
"Do you love me?"
What a fucking loaded question? He could have slapped me and gotten the same reaction out of me. I didn't have to think about it. I could have answered that just as quickly as I had answered his first question, but I didn't. It took me time to filter it through my passionate brain.
"Yes," I said so softly that it was hard for him to hear, but he knew the answer. He felt my lips on his and saw my reaction when he used his body against mine. Somehow while I wasn't looking, Doug had become a man. I'd always loved Doug and I had loved him almost as quickly as I had loved his brother. It was insane to feel the way I felt about the two of them and the love tormented me even more now that Doug wanted his answer.
Rest in peace, Justin Case. Your silence will be heard.
quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com