Chapter 5
There were many ways of eloquently saying I was fucked.
I will spare you the embarrassment of a naked teenage boy being caught, not just naked, not just masturbating his own meat in his own hand, not just making out, but busted with his naked friend between his legs and the expression, "Ah- ah-o'my-gawd. o'my-gawd." burned into the air in spunk. I will also skip over the details of my green eyed curly haired friend dressing, grabbing his skate board and escaping the scene of the crime as fast as humanly possible.
Words flew like a wizards' duel. Some words were meant to hurt, some as defense and some cut like knives through my paper soul.
Mom was blown away that I, well, to put it bluntly, fucked a boy. A BOY! She did not catch me impregnating a sweet dimpled doe eyed beauty queen, she caught me fucking a Greek god looking boy. A penis and testicle laden boy seemed to be the focus, not the fucking part. And somehow she thought it was "wrong."
News to me.
She never had a problem with same-sex sex before. "Well, it's different when it's your son." Her words, not mine.
We argued into the night.
At the end of things, I was but a teenager still bound by the laws of "The Roof." Oh-my-painful-fucking-god, she pulled it out and threw it on the table. "As long as you are living under my roof..."
Defeated, embarassed and knotted inside, I went to bed and laid there till the alarm went off. I was grounded as dirt. I couldn't get more grounded if I tried. The bus ride sucked balls just like my life. My cell phone was gone, my life was gone and I rode the bus to school pretending to be a normal kid.
An empty bus stop greeted me, no Brock, no Eli and none of my guys Period. It was just an empty bus stop. I didn't think my mood could get more crushing.
I walked past the preacher boy. I really didn't want to hear that asshole this morning. I hoped that Lipsmear was gone, sick or dead. "REPENT YE HEATHENS!" Lipstain yelled right into my ear as I passed. "FAGS GO TO HELL!"
If I had thought about it, Mr. Tangent somehow got him banned from screaming on school property, which was something of a victory. I didn't though. This morning my misery was fiercely raw. The dreary sky oppressed me. The shouting fucktard oppressed me. My epic grounding.
My self respect? Gone. Mom caught me fucking a boy. Fuck.
In the safety of the school walls, I spotted Brock down the hall and called out. Brock turned and walked away. He didn't call back. I was pretty sure he heard me. His blue locks shook as he took step after step, getting smaller in the hallway till he turned the corner disappearing completely. Fuck again.
Benji materialized in front of me. "Dude, you look like shit." he said. "Thanks." I said my face felt grim, "Mom caught me with," I hesitated but only for a moment; my life was pretty much over anyway. "Taz last night."
"Wait. What? You mean like caught you doing...?"
"Yah. We did it, the big one."
"Fucking wow. I always pushed him to do it with me but he never would. Maybe he'll let me try now" Benji said. Fucking perfect. My life has fucking ended and Benji was all fucking about his sex life.
"Fuck-tard, my Mom grounded me. No cell phone, no internet, no COD, no visitors, total solitary and Brock--" I choked back a sob, "I just saw him and I think he heard me, but--"
"Sorry man. Here, use my cel phone." and in a flash his phone was in my hand.
Benji > Hey it's Dan. My cel phone is gone, Mom took it. I'm
grounded.
Brock> I don't wanna talk to u rite now.
Benji> Wut? It's Dan on Benjis fone.
Brock> I know. I don't wanna talk to u rite now
Benji> Why?
And then nothing back from Brock, at all.
"Shit." My sob made it hard to speak and the tears in my eyes began to make everything blurry. "He's not talking to me and how the fuck am I supposed to know why if he don't talk to tell me?" I shook as I handed the phone back to Benji. "Benji," I said, "If ever I need friends--" and with that out I lost it. I cried in a full melt down mode, right in the hall way, publicly, and I really didn't give a fuck.
Benji's strong arms wrapped around me. I hugged him back. And I cried. I ended up in the nurses office and after a while, I just ran out of tears. Maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself. Maybe. What about Brock though? He was my best bud for so long. We hung out together and shared most of our young lives with each other. Was it because Brock found out about me and Taz?
That thought set me back. If he found out, then did he think that we were a couple? Did he think I cheated on him? I did? We actually never said we were exclusive. Somehow I knew it didn't matter. We'd been friends for so long, I think I really might have hurt him. He loved me. That elusive emotion called love?
I don't think I loved Brock. Did I?
My head swam in circles and then in the background of real life in the office of Philmore High, Mr. Tangent said Eli's name. He said it, right?
I couldn't tell but I stopped sniffling and tuned in.
"I guess he's going to be in there a long time. It doesn't look good." Mr. Tangent said.
"Should we alert the students? Get them to sign a card or something?" The secretary asked
"We can't even do that. Privacy laws and all that, you know that, Phillis."
"Well, privacy laws be damned, I'm going to visit him after work today. Where are they keeping him?"
"He's in Intensive Care at St. Augustines." Mr. Tangent said.
Shit shit shit. Who were they talking about? Was it Eli or not? I had a powerful imagination sometimes, so I couldn't be sure. I came out of the nurses' station and outright asked, "Who? Who's in St. Augustines?"
Mr. Tangent exchanged looks with the secretary. I looked bad and I could tell from the way they looked that it was just going to get worse. Mr. Tangent cleared his throat and a worried look crept across his face, "Eli," he said.
It felt like an invisible kick to my stomach and I just sort of flopped on the floor. Someone, I'm not sure who, got me back into the nurses office and I sat and felt nothing but empty.
Taz and Benji materialized looking down at me. They made an odd picture, Benji's big brown eyes plopped on his beautiful brown face with sensual lips and Tazmans perfect green eyes and long curly hair staring down at me.
"Hey bro. I'm sorry, but Brock is pissed at you because of you and me." Taz said his voice sad and sincere.
"Eli is intensive care at St. Augustines." I just blurted it out. The boys looked at me their eyes questioning me. "I overheard a conversation and it sounded bad. Mr. Tangent told me it was true."
Benji said, "We gotta go there. Now. Taz, text Brock. He's probably got my phone number blocked. Benji and Taz stood over me each absorbed into their phones as they worked the invisble network of secret magical machines that made everything work.
"K. Here's the deal. Jay Robertson is gonna ditch class and give us a ride there. We gotta meet him out front in exactly eight minutes. Text Brock." Benji announced.
I sat and sniffled.
Eight minutes, seemed like forever as an old rusted brown SUV showed up at the front. We all piled in silently, including Brock.
"I'm so sorry Brock." I whispered to him.
"We can talk about this later." Brock spoke quietly, his words made of cardboard, "Eli is first. We go find out what the fuck is going on with him. Where's Alfie? Anyone get a hold of him?
"Couldn't. He fell off the grid too." Taz said, "Just get VM if I call and the texts are non-returned. I told him to call me or Benj ASAP and that it was important."
The rest of the ride was laden with worry and silence.
Nothing was good and everything promised to get worse.
The hospital was like every other hospital, large and foreboding. Eli was laying in there, somewhere, through the maze of hallways, somewhere. We talked to Information and were given directions to the ICU. Of course we were stopped at the desk.
"Our friend is in there and he's in bad shape and needs our support," Brock said.
"Unless you are family," the nurse recited, "You are not allowed in."
"I'm his brother. These are his friends." My raspy voice sounded sincere. He looked at me. I am sure I was a mess with red rimmed eyes punctuated with dark circles underneath.
"You," He pointed to me, "Go in. Unit 5A. The rest of you stay here." The inside of the ICU was a maze of scary looking beds and a very peculiar medical smell. I found the unit labelled 5A. It was a dim room filled with lights, machines with wires and tubes. In the center of it all lay a lump under some bedding. I rechecked the number. A hospital person, nurse or doctor in a white coat went in, checked something and then left again.
I took a breath and stepped into the room. The beeping was even and there was a machine that sounded like Darth Vader, breathing evenly. His face was blackened, way worse than the first time I met him. He had a bandage around his head and a tube coming out his mouth. I was afraid if I touched him it would wreck the machine or hurt him further. I touched his hand, his knuckles scraped and held it. It seemed so still, so fragile.
"You are family?" A voice asked. I looked up to see a man with a stethoscope draped over his neck.
"Ummm, yah. I'm his brother." The lie came easily. "How is he? What happened?"
"I'm Doctor Haphensburg. He's in a coma, his brain is badly bruised. If he lives through the night his chances of recovery improve, but there is a very real possibility of permanent brain damage. It is too early to tell. He was found by his friend like this. The police suspect that he was beaten with a bat. I'm sorry, but you have to go. There's a family and friends room at the end of the hall. You can stay there as long as you'd like."
The boys' faces looked hopeful and when they glimpsed at me the hope turned to ash. I guess my face was speaking for me. I told them what the Doctor said.
Numbly, we trouped into the family and friends room and sat down. There were a few other people, concern lining their faces. It was a fairly small room furnished as a country living room with lamps and couches. Benji's soft deep voice and full of concern, "I just don't get it. Who would do this? Why? Who found him?"
"Eli mostly hung with us." Brock said, "There weren't many peeps his grade he liked. Where's Alfie?" The question was a good one. "I've texted everyone I know. No one's seen him." Taz said.
"Did anyone call his Mom or the land line?" I asked
"I ain't got it." Brock replied. Neither did Taz or Benji.
"I'm sorry boys. Did you say Eli?" An older lady asked.
"Yeah."
"He's my son. I'm so glad you boys came to see him." She said.
"Huh?"
"I'm Mary Gonzalas. Eli is my son. This is my husband, Eli's step father, Martin. She paused and half-smiled, as if in welcome, before continuing. "You boys, well, the blue haired one is Brock, and the blond triangle over your face, you must be Dan and the tall dark one is Benji which leaves the curly haired boy, Tazman. And of course Alfie is upstairs. Eli never stops talking about you boys, he has had a bad patch the last bit and now with a new group of friends, we'd hoped that he could stay out of trouble for a little while. He's got such a mouth and opinion sometimes. It just get's him into more trouble than not. You boys, especially Alfie, well, you've been so good for him." Mary's eyes started to tear up.
Brock, the blue haired wonder boy was the first to speak up as usual, "Thank you Mrs. Gonzales. It's nice to meet you both. We were surprised to find him here. We have no idea what happened."
"Well," Martin said, "Eli has had trouble adjusting, to our being married and also to the change in schools. He was always in fights and trouble. Then you boys came along and he stopped with the trouble, or so we thought. I guess Alfie was going to meet him at the park and was a bit late. He came into the park and there were four boys beating him. They left as soon as Alfie showed up and then he called the police and ambulance."
"Alife saved his life. I believe it in my soul." Mary said.
"The police don't know who did this, they talked to Alfie before he broke up - or was it broke down? Anyway, they know there were four of them against Eli and that's all the information Alfie will give out."
"Do you know where Alfie is? We can't find him. You said he's upstairs?" I asked.
"Yes. He saved Eli and then talked to the police and I guess his emotions are quite --" Mary searched for the right word, "Fragile. He's in the Psyc Ward, the third floor. I guess he's in quite a state."
"Perfect. First Eli, now Alfie." Tazman said what we were all thinking.
"I wonder if we can visit him." Brock asked.
"Oh you boys are so loving and kind. I am so glad that Eli has friends like you in his life." Mary said.
"Let's go find out." I said as my mind whirled. What the fuck was going on? I never did get the whole story about why Eli was beaten the night I found him. I was pretty sure he was leaving out some important details. Now that he lay in a bed in a coma with a nest of snakes hooked to machine keeping him alive, I think I might have made a huge mistake. The front desk of the Psyc ward looked as normal as any other hospital front desk. The hospital peeps looked at us just as skeptically and when Alfie's name came up, so did their eyebrows. We were told to wait while they consult the doctor to see if Alfie is allowed visitors or not. A few moments later we were escorted to Alfie's room.
He sat on the bed, head bent down. The four of us trooped into his room. He didn't look up. I wasn't sure what to say. We all stood like morons until Brock, god-almighty-that-boy-is-something-else, said, "Sup Dawg." This was just Alfie and we were just his buds, hospital or no hospital. With the disaster we needed each other more than ever and whatever the crazy reason, why it all clicked with the simplest of sayings I had no idea. Whatever. I sat beside Alfie and put my arm around him. It reminded me the first time we did that up for Art Alive night. Taz sat on the other side of Alfie and then pretty soon we were all squished onto the bed simply trying to hug Alfie. Brock had climbed up on everyone's lap his knees and elbows making everyone squirm.
Alfie's eyes were red.
"Thanks for coming to see me. I've never had four guys come to visit in a month, let alone in one time." He sniffled.
"We're here for you for as long as you want. You want us to sneak some booze or porno in for you?" Brock offered with a devious smile on his lips.
The story was the same, though. Alfie was late picking up Eli and he chased off the guys. I was hoping there was something more, but then I hoped for a lot of things.
We camped out in Alfie's room and sent a person down to sit with Eli till we got booted out or got tired. The day turned to evening and then night. The stale pale lights of the hospital looked the same both in the day and at night. It was impossible to tell the time without looking at a clock. They even put the AM and PM on the clocks so that there was no guess work. Visiting hours were announced as over and we were ushered to the exit.
The boys' fingers and phones had been busy on the network of peeps and nothing much developed except that Brock's Dad was going to pick us up and drive us all home. I didn't want to go home. Ever. I didn't say it right then and there though.
We went through the story with Doug, Brocks Dad's. He was pretty in tune with what was going on and drove Benji and Taz home. The three of us left in the vehicle, I didn't see many options, well, I pretty much saw none.
"Mr. McSweeny," my voice cracked from being tired with no sleep the night before, the stress of the day and all the crying I had done, "Would it be okay if I crash at your house. Mom an' me had a big fight and I really can't deal with her now what with Eli being all --"
"I don't know Dan. I'll get Liz to call her and talk. I know it's been a tough day for you and if I ask, she'll just say no. So let's say that if she says you gotta go home, then I'll drive you home." His voice was even, calm and at least he never said, 'no.' right out.
My numb mind and body and soul began to shut down. Brock woke me up when we got to their house. I half stumbled and half walked up to the house. I remember Elizabeth talking on the phone as I laid down on the upstairs couch and closed my eyes, only for a moment.
The next morning, I woke up in my clothes on the same couch. Someone had thrown a blanket over me. The smell of coffee wafted through the upstairs. I got up, my body ached and I felt like I was coated with grease from head to foot. I needed a shower.
I drug myself to the coffee pot and poured. The coffee was hot and black before I added a bunch of sugar and cream.
I looked outside. The weather was dreary and cold. Life was not going very good. Not very good at all.
After a hot shower and wrapped in a towel I wandered out to the dark underground livingroom. Basements can be dark cold lonely places sometimes, but I wanted it like this. It felt the same way I did. I sat on the couch sipping my almost cold coffee, my hair turning from wet and clingy to damp and annoying as it hung over my face.
Brock came in, a shadowy figure in the dark and sat down beside me. His rumpus room, or whatever it was called was pretty much a second home to me. Brock has been, well he's always been my friend. We've never had fights where we didn't talk or where we even argued for very long.
"Hey Brock." I said.
"Hey" he replied. Pretty lame on the outside, but that one response, the one word meant he was talking to me again. I had a chance to make things right. Well, they could never be as right as they were before, but at least it was better than a wall of silence.
"I wanted to say sorry." I said
"For what?" his voice was angry
"I kinda let, well, see, Taz and I, okay wait. No. See, Taz and me well, you know, I know you know, well, Taz and me fucked, and I think that maybe, well, I shouldn't have done it." I stammered sounding like a blathering idiot. Brock never said anything. He just sat there. Shit. "Okay. Let me start again." I started again, "See, I should have saved that moment for a guy I love, for my best bud in the whole world, but I wasn't sure -- well, I'm not sure of anything anymore." The silence that hung in the air was not comforting. I threw it out there, my question of his feelings, my question of my feelings, my question of life, sex and love.
"Yah." Brock said, "I know you never knew cuz I never told you. But yah. I love you. I never told you that really, I think I'm pretty much as gay as they come and I want to be with you. I never said any of that because I was--I am--" He paused with a very deep breath and a leap of courage,
"I am afraid that you don't feel the same way about me."
I had nothing to say, I didn't want to hurt Brock. Ever. My mind spun. I never thought life could get this complicated. I sat there thinking and finally decided the truth, bare and raw, even if it was hurtful was the best thing.
"Brock, my friend. I am not sure how I feel. Sometimes I just want to fuck and enjoy it, then other days I want to find the right girl, share something special and have four or five kids, a dog and live happily ever after. Then I see a boy and get all horny. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just making this up as I go along. You are a true friend, a good friend and I never want to lose that. That's about all I'm sure about."
Brock's eyes started to leak and he grabbed me and hugged me, his hot breath on my bare back and his wet face on my shoulder.
He hugged me for a while. I didn't say anything and he didn't either. We just sat there and then I let Brock go.
"You got any small clothes I can borrow? Small for you, that would fit me. Mine feel way too greasy."
Brock sniffled and said, "Sure. Give me a minute."
I dressed and we went upstairs. The bad news continued to pour in. Doug talked with Mom and she wanted me back. She was pissed, but since she couldn't ground me further, I didn't care.
Doug drove me home and entered the prison without a word and just went to my room and laid in bed. Morning turned to night turned to day and one day after another I forced my numb body through motions. The motion of going to school to pretend to learn things. I sat in class, I slept, I ate a little and I went "home." I cried myself to sleep at night, I woke up sad and cried in the morning. I cried on the bus. I started thinking about a world without Dan. I felt worthless. I looked at the mirror seldom and barely spoke to anyone.
I felt like total utter crap. Days turned to weeks and then one dreary day, I got off the gray bus taking me to the gray school and found Brock standing at the bus stop waiting for me. His hair was turning black at his roots and the blue was becoming nothing more than a fringe.
"Hey." I said.
"Good news bad news, Danny ol boy. Good news, Eli is awake and is talking. Bad news, he can't remember anything about the night he was beat up. Good news, it seems like he's gonna make a full recovery. Bad news, you're still grounded, Good news, he'll be awake and up and around when you are un-grounded."
"Thanks. I'm glad he's gonna be okay. I dunno when I'll be ungrounded tho. I think that it might be forever. I'm caring less and less anyway." I said and then I started to cry, again, right there at the bus stop. Brock hugged me and I just let it all sort of go. It'd been tough living in solitary confinement and I was worn out or worn down. Whatever. Brock, I sat down on the frozen sidewalk as if it were summer, my ass getting all dirty and not caring. "Life isn't worth living any more. I miss you Brock. We've barely spoken in the last, whatever long."
"Don't say that Dan. Life is worth living. Just this thing with you and me, well, I been feeling pretty awful too. I think it's not fair for me to expect anything from you. I think it was not okay for me to expect you to let me be your first love making experience without even telling you. I've been selfish."
"So? How does that make life worth living?"
"I've missed you so much. I can barely not stand seeing you as my heart is just killing me. You've also been ditching classes, not eating, you look thin pale and like you are going to fall over and die any second. I'm worried about you."
"Still don't see how life is worth living."
"Well, I need you as a friend. I want you for more, but I understand, not really at all. I just accept and respect your decision."
"Thanks Brock. That's cool. Mom still has me dirt grounded. I am considering talking to the sperm donor and seeing if he would let me move in with him."
"Dude."
"I know."
"He used to beat you and he drank all the time. He could kill you if he went into one of his drunken rages. You said so yourself. Those are your words."
"Yah. So?"
"Don't be so set on dying. I need you here."
We got up off the curb and he held me again. This time the warmth of his body made me shake. Was it his warmth? His male smell was always subtle and ever so light.
"Thanks Brock. I missed you so much." I said and then we walked to school together.
Christmas was around the corner and with Brock back on my side, the air felt a little less bleak. I would endure Mom's ridiculous grounding until the day I turned legal and I would be gone from her. Forever. That afternoon, after school, I went to my room and closed the door. That was the way my life went. There was nothing to do but lay in bed and think. I had read a few books, none of them very good, but it passed the time. I was imprisoned in life to the will of a woman who I thought loved me, only to find out she would condemn my actions on made up moral grounds and well, really, my mind went to shit. I hated everything all over again. Then I remembered Brock's hug. I remembered his blue hair phase and the wonderful frolic we had at Alfie's house so very long ago. His eyes sparkled blue, filled with laughter and the tenderness of his touch.
I grew hard. I hadn't spanked it in weeks. Things had been so bad a spark of a good thing brought a little fire back to my soul. I had given up on everything. Now I had some fire, I had a hard on. I wanted some retribution. I wanted to get even with Mom for the bullshit she's putting me through. I wanted to get even with the assholes that fucked up Eli.
As I lay there, thoughts swirling through my head of me doing fantastic brave things where I would be the hero and everything turned to gold and life became proper, I just gave up and put my hand around my member and jerked it like I'd done a hundred times before. I spunked all over my stomach and just lay there in my own sweat and semen listening to neighborhood having life around me. My fantasies of heroism evaporated into the void and I lay there with my shorts around my ankles. I heard the door open and close downstairs. The mother was home. I contemplated leaving myself the way I was, but I didn't want her to notice anything had changed. I cleaned myself off and dressed again. Supper was a repeat of the last few weeks, when she was home. The mother would cook food, ask me to do the dishes after. She made us sit at the table, together as she would prattle on about her day. She would attempt to pry into my life with questions about school, if I'd met any new girls that were interesting and try to cajole me into dating, attempted and failed miserably at subtlety.
I endured using one word answers when necessary. Suppers weren't any fun anymore.
After supper I went to the bathroom and took off my clothes for a shower. I took inventory.
My abs shrunk. My ribs were showing. My bush was grown well out of control. My hair was down to my shoulders. I looked at my body thinking it was time, well past time to take me back, if only a little bit of me. I shaved my balls and trimmed my top pubes. I think I might be a bit longer than the last time I did the micro self analysis, though it could only be my imagination. I took the scissors to my head. The Mother had offered to pay for an expensive haircut, or what she thought was expensive about a week ago. I declined with a simple 'No.' I hoped I don't stay monosylabic after my weeks in solitary. I missed being happy with lots to say.
I hacked my Blond hair. I cut it all and threw it in the garbage. It took me several minutes to hack off the long stuff and trim as close to the scalp with the scissors to get the close stuff. Then I took the razor and shaved my hair right down to the maggot white skin.
I shaved a little space in my right eye brow. Time to give the world a little taste of Danitude.
Then I reassessed. I still was too hairy. I went back downstairs and shaved myself completely bald. Go Eli go, I thought. Now the upstairs match the downstairs. Why was not a question I asked.
Mom came upstairs after I went back to the my room and laid down. Clothes were strewn about on the floor on my dresser. I just didn't give a fuck anymore.
"We've been invited to a Christmas part... What on earth did you do to your hair?!"
"Have a good time. I'm grounded. Remember?" I shot back.
"Your beautiful hair Daniel!"
"What? I'm grounded again, more, longer? Go ahead. It's my hair. I can do what I want."
"You can stow the attitude. We are going to this Christmas party and you are going to start acting--"
"Normal? Straight?"
"Civil. It's the MacMillans."
"I'm grounded. Have a good time," I said.
"I know what you said. I'm ungrounding you for the Christmas party. MacMillans are, well, very influential. You should remember. I drove you out to their mansion. Alfred, or Alfie, I guess you called him." "It's on Friday, so you'd best find something decent to wear. Oh my. This room is a mess. I expect it cleaned."
"I expect a million dollars" I mumbled under my breath
"What?"
"Oh. I expect it'll be done. Don't worry."
"Think of this Christmas party as a chance to be with your friends for a little while and a chance to show you can be mature."
She left. I rubbed my bald head. For the first time in weeks I had something to look forward to. Something good. I felt a little lighter.
Copyright 2013 Craig Smith
Nifty requires funds to fire the furnace of the servers
Please send me comments to craigsm1th@outlook.com
Notes from the author: Not much sex in this one, okay, none. But the tides are turning for Danny. Thanks to everyone for their comments and support. Yeah, my spelling in previous chapters was attrocious. I hope this dark chapter was spelt better. As Homer Simpson once sung, "I am so smart, S-M-R-T"
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No part of this publication may be reproduced,distributed,or transmitted in any form or any means, or stored in a data base or retrieval system without the express prior written permission of the author.
Characters and events portrayed in this story are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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