This is the first chapter of my new novel, Miracle. It may take me a while to get this one out. Stay with me though, and send me some feedback. (me@th380y.net) I am alo writing random things every now and then. You can find those on my website (Http://www.th380y.net)
Miracle By: TH380Y Part One : Andrew
I woke up; it was 2:02. I had slept in. Slowly, I mustered the strength to sit up. My windows were open, letting the sun attack my face with its healing rays. My face hurt. I had probably been staring at the sun for a while now. Music. I needed music. I scrounged around in my bed for the remote. It was under one of my pillows. I turned on my stereo and played a CD. Vertical Horizon's new CD. I skipped to track 8, "Send It Up". My watch said it was April 13; it had been three months since I had moved to Bay Farm Island. I used to live in San Rafael but my mom thought we should move here. I wasn't going to argue with her. I had just gotten kicked out of my last school because I kept getting into fights. I wasn't picking them though. I was just the one that was called. Nothing happened to the other guys. Just me. It's some form of discrimination, I know. But I didn't do anything because I was tired of fighting. Across the street, a U-Haul truck pulls up, with a car taking up the rear. New neighbors moving into the house across the street. The truck pulls into the long drive way, parallel to the house, as the car, an old Isuzu Trooper, with surfer stickers on it's rear window, parks in front. Out of the U-Haul steps a tall, lanky man of about 35 years old. >From the Trooper's rear passenger steps a girl, around 16. From the driver's side a soccer mom steps out. She is about 37. Now, from the passenger seat, steps a heavy sized boy, 5'9-ish, about 16 or 17 with brown hair, and tanned skin. The whole family was tan, in fact, and was wearing loose, light clothing. These people were from Southern California. I watched them rearrange themselves from my window, across the street. A few more heads popped out of the windows around the brown house. There were two other houses for sale on the street. This wasn't the cheapest among them. But it WAS the ugliest of the three. I wondered why this family would choose that house. It was three stories tall, not including the attic, or the basement. But it was painted a disgusting brown. The whole house looked like a piece of shit. It was a regular house; it just looked like a big piece of shit. Maybe the paint was the only thing that made it look so ugly. I wondered what the house would look like with a new paint job. But I couldn't. I watched as the family ascended the stairs to the door. There was a pause here. They were trying to figure out which key was which. I could have helped them with that. I used to watch the cats for the people that used to live there. Once they trusted me enough, I used to watch their house. They gave me the keys while they were away. There were three of them. One for the front door handle, one for the front door deadbolt and one for the back door deadbolt and handle. I always wondered where the missing deadbolt and handle were. I had a very strong urge to run across the street, up the stairs and help them. But I held back- the front door swung open. The boy and girl would be hunting for the best room. I can imagine how they would react when they ran up the winding stair case to the attic. The boy would stop short once inside the room, in awe. The girl would run into him, not knowing why he stopped, and then, they would both look up. This would make them both fall in love with the room, but only one of them could have it. I decided to take a shower. I brought Vertical Horizon in with me. Once the water had gotten to the correct temperature and the music was blazing, I got in. I wondered what their story was. Why they had moved to Bay Farm Island? Where had they come from? My hands were on auto-pilot, as I wondered about the boy. What school was he going to? How old was he? My favorite song broke my reverie.
"Ooh you make me lay down. Ooh you make me forget I am here. Ooh you make me safe now. Oh you make the faces disappear.
I'm alright by the way. Everyone save the day Sometimes I feel it
Send it up Send it up now Send it up . . ."
It reminded me of the boy I had taken to a Vertical Horizon concert. His name was Eric. We had been having sex for a while and I had just won 4 Vertical Horizon tickets over the radio. I figured that we should have some platonic fun and invited him. He loved Vertical Horizon, he said. And he sang along to every song. But when I talked to him for real, not just pillow talk, I noticed how much of a bitch he really was. And this is when I ditched him. After the last song I left. He waited for the encore, as there was definatly going to be one. I got on BART and I went back to Bay Farm Island. When my Dad picked me up, he asked where Eric went. I told him that he ditched me. He apologized for Eric and we drove home in silence. It wasn't too much silence. The ride home was only 8 minutes. I went into my room and went to sleep. It was 11:47 and I was tired. I had sung all of the songs that they had performed. And all of the songs Sister Hazel had performed. Sister Hazel had opened for Vertical Horizon. It was a great concert. The company sucked. I wished I had taken someone else with me. I had plenty of friends that would jump to go. But I sold the remaining two tickets for twenty-five dollars each. I had enough money to get an eighth for later on. I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. I used another to dry my hair with. I usually can't stand walking out of the shower without my torso covered. I get too cold. I don't know why that is. But if there's no water dropping from my head it's easier to deal with. I looked at myself in the mirror. It was still me: 5'11", black hair, brown eyes, built for football. My skin was clearing up. I had started taking Accutane. That's an oral medication for acne. You take it; it dries your skin to the cracking point and kills your zits. It's great. I slipped into some boxer-briefs, put on some brown cargos and a California shirt. I'm not exactly sure what the California was for. It may just have been a tourist shirt, but I liked it. It was comfy. I slipped on some Ecco sandals and walked over to my new neighbor's house. The father was unpacking the U-Haul. "Hey" I called from a step just before the lawn. You see, the lawn was raised, in a bed of concrete. Well, it wasn't filled with concrete, of course. Concrete just made the walls. It was split into three parts. One part, to the left, held the norm, brilliant vines a shrub or two and a tree. It hadn't been cut in a while, so it's limbs hung down, touching the ground. When I was a kid, I was convinced that, when it looked like this, it was a magical tree. The hair on the back of my neck still raises whenever I walk past it. Part two, to my right was the norm (grass, if you hadn't guessed already). Above it, separated by a path of stones, were tulips, watered by the neighbors while the house was unoccupied. "Hey." The man called back to me. "I'm Matthew Edwards." I held out my hand. "I'm Bob Cross." We shook hands. I asked him, "Where have you moved from?" "Philadelphia." "Cool. . . . Just wanted to drop by and say Hello. Also, I wanted to know if you need any help, guidance? Names of restaurants?" I asked Bob. In my peripheral vision I saw someone walk out on to the porch, freeze and then walk out of my view. A moment later, that person returned. It was the boy. "Oh," Bob sounded hasty, "This is Andrew." Andrew looked at me. His hair was brown. His eyelashes looked as if they had been curled and he had a hint of a unibrow. He was almost as big as I was with deliciously broad shoulders. He had on a green T and cargo khakis his feet were uncovered- rough-looking, accustomed to hot sand. I was wrong when I guessed his height. He was 5'8"; his eyes were almost level with mine. Ah, those eyes. He had green, the kind of green that makes you wonder if you've been tricked into thinking they are green instead of brown or some exotic blue. I couldn't stop looking. They intoxicated me and I could feel a fluttering in my stomach. "Hey," His voice sounded gentle. We shook hands. He had a soft grip, so I made sure not to crush his hand. People do that often when they are shaking hands. Crush your hand, I mean. Men get into a big handshaking fight to see who can out shake the other. It's supposed to be a symbol of higher dominance, I guess. "I'm Matt Edwards." I smiled at him. He smiled back. We stood there, smiling, for a few seconds until Bob broke our silent conversation. "Matt here," Bob said, "Wanted to know if we needed any help around town." "I'm new here too." Should I have said that differently? I wondered. "Well, not totally new. My mom and I have been here for a few months now. We know how to get around and where to eat, cheap gas etc." I had their full attention. "So . . . you can call on me whenever you need help." I decided to make a bad joke, "Any time before three is okay. After three . . . you're going to have to fork over a five'r." They smiled. Andrew snapped out of whatever he was in. "Hey dad, can we go out and get something to eat right now?" He said to me, "We just drove all the way from Pismo." "Well . . ." Andrew cut him short; "There's nothing in the fridge, Dad. We just bought the house." If that wasn't just stating the obvious. "I know a good place a few blocks from here, so you don't have to drive. Do you like Thai Food?" "Yes!" Andrew took a step closer to me. "Well," Bob probably felt out numbered now. "I'd better go tell everyone to get ready." Bob went inside. This left Andrew with me. "So, you moved from Philadelphia?" I made conversation. "Yeah- but we stayed in San Diego for a few weeks to test it out. But my sister and I didn't like any of the schools there. How about you? Where did you move from?" "A place called San Rafael. That's just over the Richmond-San Rafael bridge. I don't know if you know where that is." "No." "Well, it's on 580. I can probably take you there later on this week if you want." I remembered that he may have school. "Oh yeah! Do you know where you're going to school?" "Well, I just came from Upattinas. There's supposed to be another school like mine around here." He said. "No shit!" I exclaimed, briefly I noticed the volume I had said that at and spoke in a lower tone. "I'm supposed to be going to school there in another week! For the conference." "Really? Do you go to Alameda Alternative School?" He asked me. "Yes. Are you going to be coming too?" "Probably." "Awesome! We need more guys at this school. Preferably cool ones like you." Compliments go straight to your pants. Andrew smiled at me. His parents came out with the girl. "Matt, this is Patricia." Bob pointed to the mother. "And this is Amelia." I said my hello's to them both. I remembered that I hadn't told my mother where I was going to be, so I ran into the house to get some money and say goodbye. I came outside and we all walked to the Thai Cuisine. This Thai Cuisine made Chi Teas that were so good you didn't want to order any food. You would just keep drinking Chi teas until you eventually exploded. They are great.
Table talk was of school. Through a scalded tongue I told them about school. About the people. About the instructors. About the classes. "Last semester we had a 'Fight Club' class. I wish I had been in that one. But now, I reconsider it. They watched 'Fight Club' about five times and read the book two. You'll probably like the school," I said to Andrew. Inside I wished that he would stay so that I may get to know him a little better. And hopefully . . . ? The bill came and I pulled out my wallet. Bob stopped me, "It's on me." "Are you sure?" I asked. "Well it's the least we can do. I mean, you did show us a new and, dare I say, wonderful place to eat." Patricia smiled. I couldn't argue. "Well, I guess." Andrew caught my eye again. He was looking at me, smiling. Was this boy flirting with me? I wondered. I giggled nervously and watched as Bob pulled out sixty dollars and put it on the tray. We all got out of the booth. As I got out, I felt a hand brush down my arm. It was Andrew. We walked back Cross' house. Andrew invited me in and I gladly accepted the invitation. We walked into the front door. I was hit by the smell of stale air with a trace of air freshener. Andrew grabbed my hand and led me through a maze of boxes, up through the second floor into, what I assumed was, his room. He closed the door behind us and gave me a goofy smile. There was already furniture in the room. It had been delivered a day earlier. Someone must have given them directions on where the furniture would be. A bed was in the middle of the room, along with a long desk along one wall. There were windows along two of the walls. The bed and desk looked like an island in a sea of pine tiles. "So . . ." Andrew said awkwardly, "We're going to the same school, I guess." "Yeah. You're going to love it." I sat on the edge of his bed. He smiled warily, "I hope so." Andrew sat on my lap. I wrapped my arms around his torso. Well . . . they needed to go somewhere. "So who do I have to fuck here to get a drink?!" I said in a mock angry voice. "Not me!" Andrew exclaimed and tried to wiggle out of my grip. Soon we were around the ground, wrestling. We rolled all over the floor, until I hit my head on the edge of the bed. I froze and waited until the waves of pain washed away. Andrew stopped when he heard the clang. He was on top of me now. His pelvis was against mine and his face was just inches away from mine. "Are you alright?" His breath was warm on my face; I could still smell the Thai food. I touched the back of my head, no lump, no broken skin. "Yeah, I'm fine." I looked into Andrew's eyes as he looked into mine. The moment slowed, someone, somewhere, pressed the slow-mo button. Andrew reached down to feel where I had bumped my head. I could smell the deodorant he was wearing, his day old clothes. He made sure that there was no bump and then he returned me to my original position. Time passed, I could feel him start to harden and I felt his muscles tense nervously. I slid my hand down his back. I wanted to touch his skin. Look at more of his tan, see if he had any tan lines and where he stopped. I slid my hand under his shirt and started to slide it off. I felt the warmth of his body above me. His skin was soft, I wanted to touch it repeatedly. His skin drove me crazy. Well, skin drives me crazy. Once his shirt was off, I looked at his torso. It was tan, very tan. Almost as tan as mine. His love handles were delightful. I flipped him over on his back and started making love to him. I kissed him on his chin and spread little butterfly kisses up along his cheek to his forehead and back along his other cheek to his chin. When I looked back at him he had a wild grin. "Wow." He said. "Yeah." I pushed him down by his chest and moistened my lips. I dove down and kissed him hard, lustfully. He kissed back harder and we were into it. He started to move his hands into my ass. I pushed down each time he did so. I could feel his bulge growing. Meanwhile, I was fighting the urge to take him on the bed. After all, there were three other people in the house. We stayed there for a while, kissing and grinding. We had gotten really hot and I could feel sweat accumulating on Andrew's back, under my hand. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "Matt?" Bob called through the door. I had already gotten Andrew's shirt rolled up and shoved it on him. "Yeah?" I tried to make my voice sound normal. Not strained and out of breath. "Your mom wants you to come home soon." Bob said. "Alright." I acknowledged what he said. Andrew was on the bed now, he was blushing like mad. "Do you need to sleep here tonight?" I adjusted myself. A mischievous smile passed over his face. "No." "Want to sleepover at my house tonight? We can put all of your shit away right now?" I offered. He looked at the four medium sized boxes in his room. He looked back at me with one of those, "I don't think you can work miracles" looks. "Com'on, dude, it'll be fun." I smiled at him and opened the computer box. He went on to work on his clothes. I had the computer up in five minutes. Andrew was still working on his clothes. I moved to the lights, pictures and telephone. By the time I was finished, Andrew was helping me. We had spent a half an hour filling the room. It was 5:00 pm now and I needed to get home. "Do you know the number here?" I asked him. There was a piece of paper that he took out of his pocket. It had his phone number and address. I swiped a pen from Andrew's desk and wrote it on my arm. There was paper four inches away, I noticed later. "Alright, your phone's up. I'll call you in a few minutes. I have to clear it with mom. But I think she'll let you stay the night." I kissed him as I ran out the door, down the stairs and to my house.
The smell of Italian cooking hit me when I entered my house. I walked down the stairs, to the kitchen. My house is on the top of a small hill. This makes the house look like it has more floors than it really does. The kitchen has panoramic floor-to-ceiling glass windows, looking at a lagoon in Bay Farm Island. Directly across from us, on the lagoon is another row of houses. Upon entering: In the left corner of this room is the actual kitchen. You know, the range, the fridge, the cupboards, counters, knives, utensils etc. To the left is a bookcase with thousands of cookbooks and hand-written anthologies of recipes that we have collected. My mom and I love to cook. And there she was, my mom, at the range. I watched for a minute. She was in deep concentration. She stood 5'6" with bleached blonde hair a gentle face that held blue eyes, a small nose and slightly pink lips in a fragile frame. She looked totally calm even though she was performing a procedure that caused a lot of stress. She has practiced it for so long though. Place the dough concoction into a pot of steaming out, wait for it to puff and then quickly take it out. Mom doesn't work and after school we always had time to cook and experiment with new things. "Smells good, mom." I kissed her on the cheek and grabbed a spoon to try the veil. "It's for dinner, not a snack, Matt." Mom warned me. Down to business, "The new neighbors across the street. . . Can Andrew sleep over?" "As long as his parents are okay with it." She told me. "Alright, I'll tell him." I ran up the stairs to my room. Vertical Horizon was still playing at a low level. My room IS on the second floor. Along the left side are my bed, computer, desk and two phones. One is a corded phone, and the other is a hands-free phone. I have the corded phone there in case the power goes out. To the right were another bookcase and my dresser. The bookcase was not full of cookbooks, of course, I read a lot. And directly ahead would be another set of panoramic windows and a skylight, with a spiraling stairwell up to the roof. Several times I wondered if Andrew's and my house were created by the same developer. A large, walk-in closet was right behind the staircase. In front of the panoramic windows was a big screen TV. Around the room, on the walls was a Dolby Surround Sound system. I dialed Andrew's number. "Hello?" It was Andrew. "Andrew." I said. "Matt." "You can sleep over. Did you check with your parents?" "Yeah they said it was cool." "Awesome! My mom is cooking. It's Italian. Hurry up or I'll eat it all." "Alright, I'll be over in fifteen minutes." "See you then."
I spent that time cleaning up my room. I cleared all of the dirty clothes to the closet, swept the floor and ran off to take a shower. The bathroom was through my closet. I took a quick shower, did my hair and rubbed on my pit stick. There was still time for me to make sure everything was alright. I looked through all of the drawers of my dresser to make sure that the things I wanted to be hidden were. As I was securing the last of the embarrassing photos I had, the doorbell rang. "Got it mom!" I ran to the door. Andrew was standing there with his pack. "Hey Andrew," I greeted him, "Come in." "Cool house, dude." "Not as cool as yours. Come on." I lead him up to my room. Andrew let out a barely audible gasp when he stepped in. "Oh my fucking jesus!" He exclaimed. "Yeah, I said that too." I smiled at his reaction. "Com'on there's more." I took his hand and led him up the stairs to the roof. The roof was a big concrete porch. A large barbecue was set up and a table with a sun shade. As it was spring break, this shade was handy. From the roof one could see three different backyards . . . . across the lagoon. I'm very happy with my house, obviously. When my mom showed it to me my heart almost stopped. When she said she had already bought it, I started jumping up and down, screaming. "This is so fucking great!" Andrew exclaimed. "You have one too." I said mater-of-factly. "We do?" "You mean you don't know about it yet?" "No, why? Is it obvious?" "You know the stairs in the middle of the hall? Just before the kitchen?" "I thought that was just there for decoration." "Well, they aren't. When you go back home, try the door. If no one has already found that room, I suggest you take it." Andrew was confused now. "Don't worry about it." I said, "Once you see it, it'll all make sense. Now, come on. Dinner should be ready." ------------------ This is the revised (edited) version of part one. Part two will be coming shortly. Send my feed back to me@th380y.net You can also go to http://www.th380y.net and read more of this series there.