HEART and SOUL BY: Julien
This story is 100% fictional and does not depict the life of any person, place or thing. This story is of a sexual nature and involves sexual activity among males, therefore, read at your own risk. You should be 18+ and it should be legal for you to read this story in your city, state or country. ENJOY!
He remembered the young man as if it were yesterday. The things that had transpired between the two forever left him scarred for life and left him feeling empty. What he had, what he was would be forever gone because of HIM. But he wouldn't allow the growing feelings of hatred and anger to prevent him from doing his job to the best of his abilities. He had taken his oath and come hell or high water, he would do everything in his power to fulfill it. "Dr Christy, should we give him 10mm or 5mm of morphine?" He snapped out of his thoughts remembering where he was and what he was doing. "No, he might have a reaction to the morphine. Did we get his records yet?" "No, Doctor, they're still trying to locate it." "Well just give him the basic anesthesia and then we begin operating." The nurse looked at him quizzically, "Dr are you sure?" "Yes Mary-Beth, give him the anesthesia and then we operate." And even as he said this, he prayed that he had made the right decision.
"Shane what happened in there?" He couldn't come up with a reason why he acted the way he did so he came back with the basic, "I don't know." "I think you need to take a break Shane, a vacation. You haven't had one since Roderick..." "I know Simon but I don't need a vacation. I'm ok. I just need to get back into the swing of things and the last thing I need is more time off." His old friend just shook his head and put his hand on his shoulder, "You haven't grieved yet Shane. You need to grieve and get out all that pain that you're storing inside. It won't do you or anybody else any good to be working under such conditions." And even though he knew his friend was telling the truth, he continued to deny it. "I have grieved Simon. I've grieved for four fucking months ok. The last thing I need is more time off to remind me of what happened." And before his friend could respond, he got up and walked towards the parking lot. If they needed him, they knew where to find him.
It had been a clear day. A beautiful day for a little fun in the sun. That's what they had planned to do. Finally both of them had managed to get time off that actually coincided with both their busy schedules. Roderick had remarked that they had better enjoy it because they wouldn't know when they would get an opportunity like this again. Both of them being in high demand careers made for a difficult relationship. Shane being a young MD and Roderick an Executive Assistant for a big law firm. And even though their relationship was one without the luxury of time, they made the most of it. That fateful day they had planned a trip to Point Pleasant in N.J., a day that was supposed to be unforgettable. It did become unforgettable for Shane. A day that he would have to live with for the rest of his life. A day that would haunt his nightmares for many nights to come. It had started off innocently enough with them walking along the shore hand in hand admiring the scenery that New York City lacked. They had planned to drive up to Connecticut later on that week to meet Roderick's parents for the first time. They had planned a lot of things. Things that unfortunately would not come to pass. Roderick had decided that he wanted to take a swim in the ocean and even though he was a good swimmer, the cast on his hand limited his agility in the water. "Roderick don't go out too far, you know I can't swim to get you." Roderick had laughed at his lovers' comment. "Don't worry baby, I know what I'm doing. And besides, I'm not the one that's gonna need rescuing." And with that he had winked, the sexual innuendo behind it apparent to Shane. "Funny funny just be careful ok." And he had turned his back for only a second. A second that would become the longest of his life. Turning back around there was no sign of Roderick. "Roderick? Where are you? Stop playing!" At first it seemed that he was being had. It was just like Roderick to play around like this. Not yet old enough to realize what should not and should be taken seriously. He had waited patiently for a few seconds for his lovers' face to reappear from out of the blue ocean. "Roderick? Come on man, it's not funny anymore!" He had become angry in a matter of seconds and had cursed his lovers' s immaturity. "Shit!" He wasn't a good swimmer but panic had begun to set in. As soon as he hit the water, the seriousness of the situation set in as he felt himself being pulled under by a strong current. He struggled to get air but all he managed to do was tier himself out. Remembering what he had read somewhere, he somehow managed to relax his muscles and the let the current take him and within a few minutes he free. He quickly pulled himself to shore where he immediately started to throw up seawater and within minutes, passing out. Waking up in his own hospital a few hours later he was told that he had almost drowned and that he was lucky that someone happened to be walking by and called an ambulance. His first concern was to ask about his boyfriend but was told that no one else was found with him. For three days after being released he prayed and hoped that Roderick was somewhere off the coast suffering from some form of amnesia but his worst fear came to pass when he got a phone call from the police requesting his presence down at the coroners office. When he asked why, he was told that a body had washed up in Staten Island, a Hispanic male, aged 18-23 with a tattoo of a lion on his back. That was all he needed to hear to know that it was his lover. And even after he buried the man he swore would be his partner for life, he still hadn't come to terms with what had happened. He had somehow convinced himself that he would get over it eventually but apparently he was wrong. And as he stood in the parking lot, surrounded by security lights, he allowed the first set of tears to fall.
The year had been 1992. He had been working as a high school counselor in the public school system of NYC. It was a job that he had envisioned himself doing since he was a teenager. Having had a troubled childhood, he turned to drugs and violence as a means to dim the pains and realities of the world. Add to the mix the fact that he knew he was gay since he was around ten or eleven, made for a turbulent time. His parents had been at the end of their rope and had done what turned out to be the best decision they could have made. They sent him to a reform school upstate where he met a man, a teacher that would set the course for the rest of his life. After he left, he was no longer the troubled teenager but instead, a young man that had a plan. He wanted to be able to inspire and save lives so he worked hard to get his credentials and to become a high school counselor. And for three years he had managed to get through to the majority of kids that stepped through the doors of his office with their problems ranging from abuse, sexual and emotional to dysfunctional families to poverty. He had considered himself a do gooder and strived to help as many of these kids as he could but there was always that one kid that was just impossible. That kid was Anthony Williams. A black kid from New York City who lived with a grandmother and a baby sister. If it wasn't his antics in class, it was his tendency to attack anything that stepped in his way. When Shane was first recommended to see him, the kid was on his way to juvie for beating up a senior who looked at him wrong. He had seen a lot of kids with similar problems like Anthony's' but what he would soon come to realize was that Anthony was in a class by himself. When Anthony strut into his office that first time, he had to do a double take. The kid was just that, a kid. Barley over 5ft and skinny as spaghetti but the scowl that seemed etched on his face gave away the ferocity. The numerous number of scratches that adorned his other wise clear skin was also testimony to the life that he had to live. For that first session the kid wouldn't even talk. "You know why you're here Anthony?" No answer, the kid just stared out the window keeping his hands crossed over his chest. "You want to talk about what's bothering you?" Silence. He had just about had it with this kid when all of a sudden, "What the fuck would you know bout me? You don't be knowing nothing bout me." "And that's why we're here. I want to know more about you? I want to know why act up in class and talk back to your teachers. I want to know where all this anger is coming from." He continued to scowl at me but had relaxed his stance a bit. He sat up in the chair and uncrossed his arms choosing to lay them on the handles of the chair. "I ain't the one with the problem. Them teachers be trying to fuck with me." Now he was getting somewhere. "What makes you think that they do that?" "Because they trying to fuck my shit up. It's because I ain't as smart as the other suckas in there. They pick on me cause they know I don't know shit." From reading his file I knew that he had more than one recommendation to the special Ed class. "Is that why you beat up on the other kids?" "I don't beat up on shit!" "Ok, well tell me about that senior. Robert Gonzales. Why did you hit him?" "Because that nigga was trying to fuck with me. Thinking he can pick on me cause I'm small and shit. Bet ya nobody thought to write down that shit. Ain't nobody interested in me. They just want to get me the fuck outta this school." And that was how it began. The more he sat and talked with him, the more he learned about the life that Anthony lived. "So do you do drugs?" "Yeah, so you gonna rat on me?" "No but I should tell you it's a very bad habit to pick up." "I don't do the hard stuff just some weed when I need something to bring me down." "From what?" "I don't know, just stuff?" "Where do you get the money?" "I work for it?" "You peddle drugs?" "I don't do that shit. I work down at A&P." "When do you work?" "Everyday after school and on Saturday." "All day?" "Yeah!" "That's a lot of hours for someone your age to be working, don't you think?" "We'll I got to help out my grams when I can. She got me and my baby sister to take care of." "Then why do you spend that money on drugs?" "I don't spend all of it man!" "When did you start to do drugs?" "When my moms died." "When was that?" "When I was 'round ten. She got..." he had paused but then continued, his thoughts taking a completely different turn, "It ain't none of ya business when my moms died. All you need to know is she's dead. You suppose to be helping me. What's with all the questions bout my family?" "Well I need to know where you came from and what you've been through to know where you're at." He had seemed to consider the thought then shrugged it off. "You done with me?" He had looked up at the clock above the wall and saw that it was well after four. "Yes." And as Anthony got his bags together Shane walked over to him and gave him a wristband. "What's this?" "It's a wrist band I give you. Red means that you're beginner, green means intermediate and black means advance." "So what happens when I get black?" "It means you've made enough progress to stop coming here." He regarded the band and put it into his pocket walking out without looking back. He saw the youth three days a week for about a year and a half. Within that time he had made significant progress with him identifying several triggers that would lead to an unwarranted outburst. He was also able to provide him with other outlets for his anger such as boxing lessons down at the Y. But on the verge of giving him the black wristband, something happened. Something that triggered a reaction that not only caused Shane his reputation but his career. He had remembered that day so clearly. He had walked into his office five minutes early and was about to get his morning cup of coffee when the principal came into the office. The school was big enough that one could have gone through a whole year and not see any authority figure. Shane had invited him in and had offered him a seat. "It's not necessary Mr. Christy. I'm not here on a social call." "Yes sir." "I have a student in my office, a Anthony Williams. Do you know him?" "Yes sir. I've been counseling him for a year." The principals' eyes had narrowed at him as if inspecting him. "Well it appears that Mr. Williams has brought with him some very serious allegations." "Allegations sir?" He had parroted, a feeling of dread brewing within him. "Yes. He claims that you have been molesting him these last few months." "What!?" "Is it true?" "Is what true?" "These allegations." "Of course not." "Well there are two officers in my office waiting to question you. You can leave your post and come with me. They'll sort this out." And what was to be a simple question and answer turned into a witch-hunt. He was suspended while the allegations were being investigated and then subsequently fired due to calls from concerned parents. "Mr. Christy I am sorry but we have to put the interest of our students first." "But they have yet to offer one shred of evidence to substantiate his claim. It's not fair. This is my life!" "I'm sorry." They had treated him like a child molester. His own parents had cast doubt on him questioning his lapse in judgment. "Shane maybe if you had told them that you had a girlfriend?" "What!" "Maybe if you had..." "Should I have lied about my lifestyle so that they would look upon me fairly? You think that would have made an ounce of difference." "You never know." "I can't believe you two. My sexuality has never been an issue in this house, never!" "Shane why are you so angry?" "Why? You have the nerve to ask me why? I've just been through hell and back with them and now you guys are in on it too." That had been the end of the relationship between him and his parents. He had moved away from them and away from New York only returning to go to medical school. There he had met Roderick in 2000 and there he had buried him in august of 2002. Now seeing the youth, having to treat him for gunshot wounds sustained in a drive by, brought a past that he would rather forget to the surface. None of his colleagues knew much about his prior profession except that he had been a teacher. They neither knew why he left or what made him decide to go into medicine. And that was the way he intended to keep it.