Mile High Part 5
"Com'on guys, let me go!" Chris pleaded. Chris's face felt like it would burn off as he looked into the laughing faces of the students who surrounded him. He had to hand it to his teammates, they had thought this out well. No one could see him blushing through the black and yellow paint he'd been striped with, anyway.
He thought he looked more like a weird zebra than a tiger, but the effect was the same. His teammates had even seen to his modesty, although he thought he would have preferred being naked to the duct tape that spiraled up both his legs and was formed around his waist and in his groin. That would hurt when he tried to pull it off. The tape was also stronger than he imagined. They had used it to secure his arms around the awning support that led to the cafeteria entrance.
His more immediate problem was the sign they had placed around his neck. "Bengal Petting Zoo" was all it said, but it was enough as most of the girls took advantage of his predicament, some even bold enough to grab a quick feel as they walked by. His teammates were making comments about his shoe size again to encourage the girls. One even yelled "It's twue, it's twue!" doing his best to sound like Madeline Kahn in Blazing Saddles. His family had never been `touchy-feely', so he hated being casually touched, especially by strangers. He couldn't help it when his body reflexively jerked away from the caresses and jabs he was receiving, which only made it worse as he was ganged up on a few times.
Thankfully, his teammates didn't really leave him totally alone with the crowd. Steve and some of the others had actually stepped in a few times to warn off some of the more hostile groups who would have taken the opportunity to hurt him if they could. He knew some of his teammates suspected the truth, but if he was a fag in their eyes, they were doing their best to ignore it. The coach put him on the team, so in a perverse way he was 'their fag'. Some crazy bitch, her name was Julie, he found out, had actually tried to kick him, until Steve tried to send her on her way with some heated words.
"So how long are you going to protect this fag?" Julie had yelled at Steve, putting everyone on edge.
Chris didn't like where this was going. Once those words were actually spoken, his tenuous allies would desert him. He pulled at the tape around his wrists again. He wasn't in the best position to defend himself.
"Julie, you are so full of shit!" Sharon stepped up. with Joel close behind as always. "If you can't have fun with everybody else, who needs you?"
Chris relaxed a little as Julie stomped away. He made a note to ask Sharon for a better definition of the word 'fun'. Evidently Joel must enjoy it, he thought; maybe they'll let me go? Sharon just looked at him and walked past, giving him a pat on the butt as she went, arguing with Joel over how to convince their drama teacher to let them do "Cats" instead of "Oklahoma".
Suddenly Chris was surprised when everybody scattered. He turned his head to see what the new threat heading his way was. He was now alone.
"Christopher!" Mrs. Lee said, as she and Coach Martini moved around so he wouldn't have to strain his neck to see them. "I admire your showing such school spirit, especially as you are new here, but don't you think this is going a bit far?"
Chris didn't know what to say. He just shrugged his shoulders instead, avoiding the harsh gaze from his coach and principal.
"So are you going to tell me who did this?" She caught his eyes with her own and held them. "Well?"
"No, ma'am," Chris croaked back.
"Well, at least you're honest about it." She motioned to Coach Martini. "Go with the coach and get yourself cleaned up. For your sake, I hope that paint comes off." She turned and left, hoping she could maintain her stern demeanor until she was safely behind the door of her office.
His arms released, Chris slowly trudged behind the coach. The paint wasn't bothering him as much as the tape. He didn't have much body hair anyway. He hoped the tape would leave some of it behind.
Chris was finally clean, except for the black streaks left in his hair and the paint on his back where he had trouble reaching; he looked 'normal' again. His coach wasn't happy with him but had finally taken some pity and advised him to let the hot water soften the glue before he tried to pull the rest of the tape off. As it was, he had two bare spiral bands of skin from his feet to his knees. He could only imagine what he must have looked like to the first period PE class, as he scrubbed hard, removing the paint. He figured they were just happy it was him and not them going through it. He had been surprised to find his clothes neatly folded and dry, waiting for his return.
"Mr. Bauchamp! If anything like that ever happens again and I don't hear about it in time to head it off...." Coach Martini left the rest unsaid. Actually, he didn't know what else to say anyway. Everything seemed to have turned out all right but he didn't fool himself that what had happened couldn't have turned ugly very quickly. As he watched Chris leave for his class (thirty minutes late), he allowed himself a small smile. At least he'd picked a good team captain. Steve took his duties, leading and protecting the team and the members, very seriously.
Chris stopped at the door to his first class and knocked before entering. He almost didn't go; the class was almost half over anyway, but the coach had given him a tardy slip and Chris was sure he would ask the teacher if he showed up. He didn't dare not go. His plan to quietly take his seat wasn't going to happen, however.
"Hey, look, it's Tigger!" Joel piped up. The room erupted in laughter. Even the teacher seemed to enjoy it, unsuccessfully trying to hold back.
Chris shot daggers at Joel as he sat down. 'Thanks a lot, Joel' he thought. He knew a nickname that would stick when he heard one. As he thought it over, "Tigger" wasn't so bad; they could call him much worse around here.
Kelvin pulled his yellow Jeep CJ into the lot and checked the mirror one last time. The bruises were almost gone, but he'd carry the mark above his eye and the new hump in his nose for the rest of his life. His follow up had gone quickly. They had removed his stitches and he didn't have to cough once. He hated having to see doctors, even if it was for his flight physicals. (When he had told his dad that he wanted to fly for an airline eventually, his dad had insisted that Kel go twice a year, just like commercial pilots. Probably just to see how serious he was.) Kel looked at his watch again as he walked into the school. He was just in time for lunch and went to their usual table. Chris was sitting with Sharon and Joel. At least Chris seemed more relaxed than he had been all week.
"Hey, guys," Kel said as he took his seat, "what's up? How did you get paint in your hair?" He got his first look at Chris's head. His face was raw looking, like it had been scrubbed with steel wool.
"Go ahead, Tigger, did I tell you how cute I think that name is? Tell him!" Sharon smiled at Joel, then Chris.
Kel was horrified by what he heard. 'How could Chris let himself get put in that position? Didn't the idiot know the danger he had been in?' Kel couldn't believe it. 'Julie held grudges; he could just as easily have been planning Chris's funeral.' That Steve and some of the others stood up for Chris he found hard to believe. He began to regret he had gotten Chris involved with the stupid track team in the first place.
"Kel?" Chris looked at his obviously troubled friend. "Don't worry, everything turned out OK."
"Yeah! But it might not have been!" Kel whispered as he watched Joel and Sharon excuse themselves.
"Look, I knew those guys were going to try something, and they did it. It's over," Chris replied, trying to ease Kelvin's agitation with him. "Besides, I wanted us to have some allies. That doesn't mean we can be open around them, but they'll look the other way most of the time."
Chris sighed and looked at the table. "If there are any more kids like us in this room, I don't know it, and after what happened to you, they are probably so far underground they won't even come up for air. I needed us to have some people willing to go out of their way to leave us alone. I think I got more than that with the team. Was I lucky? Hell, yes! But I think it was worth it."
"Fine! Just don't leave me out if you have any more harebrained ideas." Kel grabbed Chris's hand under the table. "If we're gon'a go, let's go together." Kel then smiled, "Tigger!" _________________________________________________________________________________________
Chris was bubbling over when he pulled his car next to the Stuart Oil hanger. He rushed through the large main door to find Kel. Inside he almost ran into James and Kelvin, who were standing with his father.
"I got the job, Mr. Stuart, thanks!" He quickly changed his focus.
"What job?" Charles was surprised, but figured this was safe to talk about.
"I start training for the line crew tomorrow!" God, Chris felt out of breath. This was so good.
"Good, now you can finally paint that car of yours." Though they had their problems, Charles couldn't help smiling at his son. He remembered what he felt like when he got his first paying job. His son was almost grown and gone. He felt he had so little time left with the boy he'd always loved. "Tell you what, why don't you start for me today? Go get the radio and bring my tug over here. I'll let you tow this plane over to my shop." Charles indicated the highly polished Mustang fighter in the hanger, James's primary airshow performer.
"Yes, sir!" Chris turned and rushed away. His dad had talked to him, wanted his help! And with something major! He hadn't realized just how much he had missed his dad's attention over the last few weeks until he got some of it back! Deep down he knew his dad hated the idea of having a gay son, but right now he needed him. Wanted him!
Kel looked at his dad, who just nodded, and hurried to join Chris with a wistful smile on his face. He was happy for Chris, but at the same time was jealous of the time the job would take away from them. He knew he would be disappointed they wouldn't have the free time to be together, but Chris's excitement was infectious.
"So how did your boss like the hair?" Kel started.
"Oh, sorry, he didn't mention it." Chris beamed, "I can't believe it!"
"Do you know what shift you'll work yet?" Kel smiled in spite of his internal conflict.
"Friday and Saturday graveyards, six to six," Chris continued, oblivious to Kel's unease, "except on the days when I'm competing."
"You gon'a be able to stay awake?" Kel asked, genuinely curious now.
"Yeah, I think so, but I wouldn't turn down some company every now and then." Chris grinned at Kelvin. "I'll be the only one here at night after ten."
"Well, in that case, expect a regular visitor." Kel felt his doubts suddenly lift.
Kelvin watched Chris and Charles hooking the Mustang to the tug. It was like two years had been peeled away. Chris had always been happiest when his dad let him help out around the shop. Charles also seemed happy. He was instructing like he always had, only now he was letting Chris do the hands-on work involved in moving the plane. Kel wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but something had changed in Chris's relationship with his dad today.
"Do you think they'll be OK now, Dad?" Kel asked as he watched the plane slowly inch its way out of the hanger.
"I don't know, Kel. Their problems are still there, but I think they both just realized how much better they are together than they are apart." James was also looking at the father-son team at work. Kelvin knew his parents loved him no matter what, but Chris? He had been so afraid he'd be going to Christopher's funeral with Kel. That kind of pain would eventually come to his youngest son like it did to everybody if they lived long enough. Jim had already buried a couple of college friends. He was just glad it wouldn't be for Chris, and hoped it would be a long way off in the future for everybody his son knew.
"Are you coming home or staying here for a while?" He turned and looked at Kel.
"I'd like to stay here if you don't mind," Kel said quietly. "I want to be here when Chris is done."
"OK, but do me a favor and clean the office and lounge while you're waiting. They might be a while." 'I hope,' James didn't add as he left.
Kel lay back on the couch in the lounge that his father had built into the hanger. He didn't know how long he had been cleaning everything up, but it was almost dark outside and he thought the place would pass his dad's inspection. Hell, he'd even scrubbed and mopped the bathroom and shower. It was only fair, he thought; he was the one who used them the most when he was here, and he was always here. His stomach was grumbling again as he slowly read through the latest copy of "Aviation Week" he had swiped from his dad. He hoped Chris wouldn't be much longer. He'd already gone through his dad's country and western CD's at least once and was playing Garth Brooks' greatest hits for the second time. Finally he thought he heard Chris's car pulling up.
"Kelvin?" Chris called out. "You still here?"
"No, I'm a figment of your imagination!" Kel yelled back. "I'm in the office! Come on in!"
Chris looked in the door at the clean room and Kel. "Eh, I'd better not. Don't want to track in the dirt. Hey, you hungry?"
"Sure! I'll drive!" Kel got up and followed Chris outside.
"OK, but have you got something to cover the seat?" Chris beamed.
Kelvin looked at his friend's clothes streaked with numerous greasy hand prints where he had obviously wiped them on himself before he'd had a chance to wash them. "Ugh, sure thing!" Kel quickly grabbed an old tarp. Chris stripped off his T shirt in the hot evening air and settled back in the tarp-covered seat. At least if the top came loose he wouldn't grease up the seat. He couldn't help but stare as Kel followed suit, revealing the tight upper body he'd lusted after so many weeks before. "Hey, where's the vest?"
"Oh, I can't stand the thing." Kel returned Chris's stare, looking at the muscles moving under the skin that he had briefly felt but never seen. "I left it in the office. Don't tell my dad!"
Chris laughed, "I'm not saying a word! Let's go!"
Steve walked nonchalantly to the yellow Jeep in the fast food lot. "Hey, Tigger, Mile High." He quickly sobered when he saw the looks his school mates gave him. "Sorry. Chris? Kelvin?" He nervously shifted his attention. "Chris, no hard feelings about today?"
"No. I'm OK with it. I was glad you guys didn't just run off and leave me," Chris responded
"Well, you know..." Steve smiled, "...'all for one and one for all', `you go, we go' and all that other movie bullshit." He glanced around as if making sure no one was listening. "Mike and I are having a get together tomorrow night. You and Kelvin are invited if you want."
"I won't have a date." Chris was walking a thin tightrope of fiction here. "Besides, I won't get off work until eight tomorrow."
"That's fine, most everybody there won't, either," Steve added in his most convincing tone. "Shit, we're just gon'a blow off some steam! If you two want, you can even sleep it off out there." He winked at both of them; "If y'all wan'a drink you have to lock your keys away anyway. Tell you what, if you want to go, meet us here at nine. It'll be fun!"
"You're sure there won't be any problem with the others..." Chris hesitated. "...You know, with us being there?"
"Hey, you're part of the team, and Kelvin might as well be, what with all the time he spent helping the coaches in the gym." Steve relaxed a little. "You don't ask, we won't tell, or whatever the fuck the government says!" He shrugged. "Anyway, you're both invited."
Steve turned to leave, then stopped. "Y'all watch your asses when we're not around."
Chris and Kel bit back the quip that came to mind. Steve had just crossed a major line in his world. He was still trying to walk carefully down the middle of a mine-strewn road. Any misstep would be his last if he wasn't careful. He blamed the coach for putting him in this position, but was willing to carry though with it.
"Hey, Steve?" Chris finished quietly, getting his attention, "Thanks." He had some idea what that last exchange took. He turned to Kel. "Let's go back!"
Kelvin was just reaching over to enter the security code at the gate to the airport when he noticed the break in the fence that hadn't been there before. He drove onto the field and turned away from the private hanger area and towards the terminal. "Amateurs!" he shook his head disgustedly.
"Kel! I think I saw something down near your dad's hanger! Pull over!" Chris was on edge, stress clearly in his voice.
"I know! I'm going over to get some help!" Kel said. He had to slam on the brakes when Chris jumped out of the slowly moving Jeep. "Where you going! Get back here!"
"Go! I need to see what's going on!" Chris hissed back. His blood was up. Someone was messing around his territory, where he worked now.
"Goddamn you!" Kel pulled back onto the old perimeter road and willed himself at the terminal already. Chris was thinking with his balls, as his dad would say, not his head. "Fuck it!" Kel pulled off the road and headed across the field directly. Nobody was using the runway anyway. He might be seen but it was the most direct way to get there.
Chris tried to move from shadow to shadow. His heart was pounding. This had seemed like a good idea when he started; now he wasn't so sure. The only protection he had was bare skin and a pair of grease stained jeans. He would have the advantage of surprise but he had no idea what he would do if forced into a confrontation. "Shit," he whispered. What if they were armed? He peered around the corner of the building he had hidden behind. Just one? He thought there were two and, damn, he was close! Chris suddenly realized that if the Stuarts' hanger was the target, these guys got the wrong one! If he was nervous before, now he was scared. The intruders could be real thieves and not some kids he could surprise and scare away. 'Fuck.' he should have stayed with Kel.
"Christopher!" a deep voice whispered behind him. Chris thought he would die but forced himself not to break and run. "Get back with Kelvin! Let me handle this."
Chris looked at the dark shape above him. The voice belonged to the old man of the full time line crew everybody called 'Uncle Bob'. Bob stepped around Chris and the corner of the building, the sound of the old shotgun being cycled shattered the air. "A'right, boys, get on your face!"
Kel was pacing by his Jeep when Chris found him. "Are you out of your fuckin' mind?" he yelled. "You have a fuckin' death wish or something? Jesus Christ! Chris, you could be dead!" All of Kel's emotions were at their peak and he let them go: "Let the cops take care of this! It's not worth your fuckin' life, you asshole! I ought to beat the shit out of you myself!"
"I thought it was just some kids from school," Chris started, his excuse sounding lame to his own ears. He had never seen Kel lose his temper at him before. It was a spectacular sight. "I'm sorry."
Uncle Bob approached the two teens. "Christopher, I'm not going to tell the boss about your part in all this. But I'll tell ya, when you're out here by yourself," he drawled, "if ya see anything, you leave it alone and call for help. You're just a kid, for Christ'sake. OK?"
Chris looked at the ground. Suddenly his big brass balls he'd started with had been reduced to little glass marbles. "Yes, sir. It won't happen again."
"Good! See it doesn't!" Bob was finished. His point was made. "See y'all tomorrow."
Kel felt himself winding down. "You still have paint on your back, by the way. Let's go inside."
Chris was hemming and hawing. He still didn't want to mess up the office.
"Fine! Then drop your pants at the door." Kel indicated the external bathroom door. His patience was still brittle. "You can clean up in there! I'll be in the lounge!"
Kel lay reclined on the couch. His pulse was back to normal. He'd never been able to stay angry at Chris very long and noted that his temper, though prone to explode suddenly, was just as quick to leave. He'd had a hard lesson that he wasn't invincible. He hoped Chris would learn the same lesson before it killed him. He was in love with Chris, not some maniac who had to take on the whole world all the time. He looked up as Chris came into the room dressed in his boxers, a towel draped around his neck.
"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left the Jeep." Chris seemed genuinely crestfallen. He didn't know what else to say and didn't want Kel pissed off at him any more.
"It's OK. You just scared the shit out of me, that's all," Kel said, pulling Chris down into an embrace. He loved feeling the warmth coming from his friend's body instead of the cold flesh that was his fear that night.
"Still friends?" Chris returned the embrace.
"Friends? Hey, I love you with all my heart, that's why I was so mad at you!" Kel finally let go of the last of his resentment and let his lips trail over Chris's face.
"I love you, too. If I ever do anything that stupid again, I deserve to get my ass kicked," Chris whispered to Kel as he traced his hands down, feeling the tight muscles Kel still had even through his inactivity.
Kel felt so hard it hurt. His breathing became difficult. Chris looked like he was nervous about being around him right now. Kel wanted, no, needed to take the next step. He looked Chris in the eyes as his shaking hand followed the sharp crease leading to his target under the waistband of Chris's underwear. He lightly brushed by Chris's hard penis and cupped his testicles in his hand, gently rolling them.
"What are you doing?" Chris asked. He wasn't particularly ticklish except when he was touched where his legs met his body. He felt his whole body lurch to Kel's caress. "Are you sure...?"
Kel smiled at Chris, "Yes. Now shut up. I'm looking for brain damage."