Here is the latest installment of the story. Thanks to those who've written, both to say nice things (which is an obvious ego stroke) and to ask when the next part would be forthcoming. I get busy sometimes. Please feel free to let me know what you think of all this.
The usual disclaimers all apply. This is my work, so please don;t rip it off. This is intended (in part, anyway) as explicit gay fiction, so if you're underage or it's otherwise illegal or improper for you to view it, please don't. Places tend to be authentic, though only for atmospheric purposes - please don't construe my including them as some sort of endorsement by them of gay (or any other type of) pornography. Presuming this is pornography, of course . . .
Anyway, thanks again, and enjoy (I hope).
Seal Rocks Part 24
Erick left around 6:30 the next morning. Half awake, Jesse buried his face into the crook of Mike's armpit to block the sound of Erick's cell phone conversation. "Sorry dude," Erick whispered after he'd shut his phone. "Had to get a ride."
"What're y' doing'?" Jesse asked, his voice muffled by the sheets. Mike was out cold.
"Gotta hit it, Jes. Put the time in practicing and all. It's like a job now, y'know?"
Jesse lifted his face up, resting his cheek on Mike's chest. Mike unconsciously put a hand in his hair. He blinked at Erick, who was already dressed. "Trestles?"
Erick shrugged. "Ya, maybe, or, um, a little further down. Wherever it's breakin', right?" He ran a hand through his hair. "See ya at lunch - Ricardo's, right?" Jesse nodded slightly, and Erick slipped out the door, a crooked smile on his face. Jesse fell back to sleep before the door closed.
He and Mike awoke for real about ten. They mumbled good mornings, humped against each other languidly for several minutes, then gave in to the need to piss. "Where's Erick?" Mike asked as he brushed his teeth, spattering froth onto the mirror.
"Went out to surf early - real early, like 6 something."
"How'd he get down there?"
Jesse shrugged. "Dunno, didn't ask. I was kinda out of it." He thought for a moment. "Maybe his dad, or something. He made a call, I remember that. He was talking to somebody."
Mike nodded as he stepped into the shower. "So we're meeting him and Kate at noon?"
"Ya. Ricardo's."
"Cool." He held the shower door ajar slightly. "Wanna join me?"
Jesse grinned. "I could use my back washed, yeah."
"I was hoping to work on some other areas - lower down."
"While we're standing up?"
"Well ,you can lean on the wall and stuff - keep yourself balanced." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Lots of soap in here."
Jesse shook his head and stepped in; Mike was already hardening. "Let me wash it first, it's all dirty."
"And after, too," Mike suggested.
Jesse did wash him off afterwards, kneeling before Mike because his legs were too wobbly for him to stand. The glow through his body was overpowering; it felt as though Mike had penetrated some deep well within him and drained him of all energy, dispersing it aimlessly into the steamy air. He leaned his face into Mike's crotch, trying even after several minutes to catch his breath. "Oh Jeez, Mike . . . "
Mike was holding himself upright by pressing his back against the shower wall; his chest too was heaving. His hand was tangled in Jesse's wet hair. "I - wasn't sure - y'know, after yesterday, and all - I didn't know if it'd be different."
Jesse rubbed his nose gently over Mike's penis. "It was different . . . but in a good way. Wasn't it?"
Mike laughed weakly. "It was fuckin' incredible." He took a deep breath. "I think I like ejected a kidney that time."
"Eeewww," Jesse giggled, taking Mike into his mouth briefly. He felt Mike's legs quiver. "Well, if you did I'll just shit it out in a minute and give it back to you."
Mike laughed. "OK, this is getting really gross now.' He stood upright, and helped Jesse to his feet. They leaned against each other for a long minute. "Water's getting cold."
"Ya, I think we're like prunes by now." Jesse slid the door open and stepped out, steadying himself on the towel rack. "We gotta do that again sometime. Soon."
Mike followed him, squeezing water out of his hair. "Later, dude. I'm all shaky now."
Jesse nodded. "Me too."
They sat at one of the outdoor tables at Ricardo's, letting the midday sun beat down on them. The warmth was reviving. They sat for nearly ten minutes before Kate appeared. She wolf whistled at them as she crossed Camino Real. "Woo hoo, who's the hot guys there?" A couple of Marines sitting outside the barber shop next to Ricardo's in the strip mall looked up briefly. She was wearing a white camisole over her swimsuit top, and very small jeans shorts. As she sat, her hand lightly touched each of them. "Where's Erick?"
"Surfing,' Jesse said. "His job, he calls it now."
"Yeah, well, it is, too. He's been at it pretty hard, I've barely seen him the last few days."
Mike's brow wrinkled. "Since when are you concerned about seeing Erick, anyway?"
Kate hesitated a moment. "Well, we've been, like, talking, and all. About stuff. "Y'know, what happened to him, and how I felt. Stuff." Her cheeks were reddening.
Jesse leaned forward, unable to suppress a grin. "You didn't!!"
Kate looked sidelong at him for a second before dissolving into giggles. "None o' yer business."
Mike threw his hands in the air. "Holy shit - Erick??"
"We were talking, that's all," Kate said defensively, but her smile was ear splitting.
"Yeah, in monosyllables, I bet," Jesse needled her. Kate slapped his arm, and they all broke down in laughter for several seconds.
"So," Mike finally asked, "When and where? C'mon, you gotta tell."
"God, you're so nosy," Kate protested. They all grew quiet. "Just last Monday night. After I found out about - about what happened, and all, to him." The boys nodded. "We just walked the trail and talked . . . and my mom and dad were out at a movie, and . . . .you know . . . " The boys grinned. Kate leaned in a bit closer. "Um, is it impolite to ask - is Erick, like, really big?"
They both roared, prompting Kate to slap at them some more. Jesse finally leaned back in towards her, shaking his head. "It's OK, Kate. Um, yeah, he is - from what I've seen anyway. He's like really, really big."
Kate sat back, contemplative. "OK," she said quietly. "I mean, it was OK - well, better then OK - but I was almost scared at first. I - I thought you guys were, y'know , what all guys were like - size, and all. . . I mean he was so big . . . "
"Well, we haven't done that - with him, I mean - so we sort of wouldn't know that," Mike giggled, perhaps a bit too self consciously, and glanced sidelong at Jesse, who blushed. "But it, um, it does feel bigger - y'know, going into you, and all." They all laughed at that.
Jesse shook his head. "I can't believe we're having this conversation."
"I can't believe he didn't say anything," Mike said. "I'd expect him to be strutting around like an idiot about it." Mike bobbed his head up and down, rooster-like.
Kate giggled, more softly. "He- it was really sweet, actually. I, um, I sort of talked him into it." The boys were dumbfounded. "He was all like how he didn't want to be taking advantage of me, how he'd stopped being like that, and I was like it's OK, we're friends, and it'd be nice . . ." She was gazing down at her hands, unconsciously shaping them as if caressing. "And I'm not even sure we're going to be like dating or in any really heavy relationship thing. It was - it was just something to do - a right thing to do. Between us, y'know?" She looked up and started giggling again. "Plus, I thought I was gonna explode."
The boys joined her giggling, leaning forward, rubbing her arms. "And here I thought I was gonna get dibs someday," Jesse teased her.
She smiled. "You just might. Both of you." She frowned. "I - I wanted to tell you, because I didn't want - I mean you guys are, y'know, it's different. With you two, and me."
"Because we're queer?" Mike asked, his faint smile a mix of detachment and sad irony.
"No, not like that! Don't say that about yourselves!! I mean - we, all of us, are closer, I think. Erick's a friend, especially now -" she giggled again - "but I'm not like head over heels in love with him or anything. We - we're friends, and like close. But - but I couldn't do that, with you guys. Just have, like, the experience. I'd - it'd be too hard, not to like fall in love and all, with you." She looked at Jesse, and her eyes seemed moist. "I know it, like, changes the way I feel about Erick, now . . ."
Jesse grinned, blushing a bit. "You're cool with what happened - with Erick, and all?" She nodded. "That's great. I - I know what you mean, Kate. With us - with Mike and me - it, it'd be all like complicated, and all. Right?" She nodded.
Mike leaned in, smiling. "It'd be pretty hot, though, you gotta admit," he whispered. Kate slapped his arm lightly. "I'm just saying. I mean it would be. But it's too . . . I mean I'm already in love, y'know?" He looked at Jesse, and took a deep breath. "If I wanted a girl, Kate, it'd be you - in a heartbeat, OK?"
"Me too," Jesse added.
"I know," she said. "That's what I mean. It's how I feel, about you both. But I'm never - I mean I know how you guys feel. About each other, and stuff. I could never let myself get between any of that."
"It's OK," Jesse said. "It's really cool, OK?" He sat back, unable to suppress a grin. "Here I thought it was girls who like fell in love and clung to their boyfriends while guys just went out and fucked. And look at us. We're like turning things inside out here."
Kate laughed. "I did not just go out and fuck!" she protested. "It was different! You guys have probably done more with him than I have!"
"Not that," Mike answered, and they laughed some more. "I was scared shitless of him when I saw him hard." He held his hands up to indicate. The other two doubled over, then started moving his hands even further apart.
The conversation moved on to more mundane topics as they ate, wondering where Erick was. "So you guys OK?" Kate asked. "Erick seemed to think you needed some TLC last night when he called."
Jesse glanced at Mike, nervously. "We - y'know, we just had a bad day yesterday and all." As if on cue, a dull throb began echoing through his rectum.
"Why? You didn't have a fight or anything, did you?"
"No, no, nothing like that," Mike interjected, perhaps a bit too quickly. "It - we just, y'know, were kind of punked out. It happens, right?" He shrugged dismissively; Kate didn't appear completely convinced. "Anyway, it's better today. All cool again, and stuff."
"Good. Nobody's like hassling you or anything? I know some guys can be such assholes. If Mitch or the Boyntons or anybody - "
"No one's hassling us," Jesse assured her. "I don't think anybody knows anything - about us, that is."
"Will they? When we're back in school next week? How are you going to handle that?"
The boys looked at each other for a long second. "We haven't decided." Jesse stirred a chip listlessly through his salsa cup. "I mean I don't wanna be like all kissy face and shit with Mike in public. I mean, we're buds too, not just like boyfriends. It - it's different."
"It's gonna be way different, Jes."
"Maybe, I dunno," Jesse said. "I just - I don't wanna be like a freak, walking around like I got a rainbow flag tattooed on my forehead or something."
"Me neither. I just - I think we can be close, but not like obnoxious about stuff. "
"People will figure it out."
"Yeah, well, they will anyway, so what's the point?" Jesse leaned back, frustrated. People would indeed figure it out - all of it, eventually. What would the volleyball guys, the surf guys, say? How bad would they get hassled? How long before someone found Voyeur Video?
Erick appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and plunked down on the chair next to Kate. He cleaned in and kissed her briefly. She smiled and laid a hand on his arm. "Where've you been?" she asked.
"Workin'," he answered, smiling at them all. "Went out all morning, got some good stuff done." He smiled crookedly at Mike and Jesse, his hand resting next to Kate's. "You guys sleep in?"
"Ya," Jesse answered, unable to stop smiling. "So, happy couple, huh?"
Erick turned red. "Kate, I - I didn't - I swear - "
"Relax, Erick. I did."
Erick stared at her for a second, then glanced nervously at Mike and Jesse. They laughed. "You better kiss her, asshole," Mike said, "or we're gonna think you don't care."
"No, guys it's not - I'm not - "
"Erick, it's fine. Kiss her. She missed you." Jesse grinned as Erick turned uncertainly to Kate. As their lips met, Jesse noticed how Erick's T shirt rode over as he craned his neck. A small purplish mark showed above the hollow of his right clavicle. Instinctively, he reached towards it as Erick broke the kiss. "Dude, what - "
"Nothin'," Erick said quickly, shrugging his shoulder hard to readjust his T-shirt; the mark vanished beneath it. "So what's the eats here, people? I'm like starving."
The rest of their time together passed casually, odd flotsam bits of conversation that bounced among many subjects. A particularly ugly older couple dismounted from a Harley and went into ConRev next door, which led to much giggling speculation about what particular adult toys they might want. "She doesn't need a vibrator," Erick noted. "She's got the mother of all dildos between her legs all day on that hog." He sat upright and pretend rode, jiggling his body; Kate slapped him, giggling.
"Better that than Herr FurFace she's with. I mean Christ! Look at the guy, with his paunch and the gut hanging out under the leather vest and shit. It's like some people don't even see themselves." Mike shook his head as he stood to get everybody more soda. Kate, still laughing, also rose, to visit the restroom.
Erick sat back, smiling, his eyes closed. As he stretched, the mark showed again. Jesse was tempted to ask, but refrained. "It's good, isn't it, Jes?" Erick said softly.
"What?"
"Everything. The sun, being with you guys. It - it's just good, y'know?"
Jesse had never seen Erick in quite so contemplative a mood. "You're just happy cuz you got laid."
"Hey, don't call it that, OK? It was - it was almost like sweet, Jes. Can you believe that? Me, sweet?"
Jesse smiled. "Kate called it that, too. Said she had to talk you into it. That doesn't sound like you."
Erick leaned forward again, his head over the table. His hair fell about his face, Jesse had a momentary impulse to brush it away, as he had with Mike that first time in the back of his house. That seemed so long ago now. "Well, I mean I really wanted to, right? Like who wouldn't? So I guess she didn't have to talk very much to convince me," he giggled softly. "But - but I know - I mean I know I've been such an asshole - with you guys, with Kate - I just, I didn't want it to be like me, the old me, just wanting to, y'know, get in her pants and shit." He sighed. "I got a lot of making up to do, to all of you. I know that."
"Bullshit. We're buds. You don't owe us jack."
Erick shook his head softly. "Ya, I do, Jes. A lot. I know that. And I will, I'll make it all up, I'll make it all OK again. You'll see."
"Dude, it's already OK. You just said that."
Erick smiled at him, softly. He pushed his sunglasses back down onto the bridge of his nose; the glare from the deep black lenses was startling. "It is, ya. And gettin' better all the time." He shoved back, jumped to his feet. "I'm outta here, more work to do."
"Surfing?"
"Ya, back down to San - Trestles, and all. Curl's good today."
Jesse cocked his head, curious. "Maybe Mike and I'll hit it up too, look for you there."
"Na," Erick waved his hand dismissively. "Can't be social when it's work time, dude. Say bye to Kate an' Mike for me, 'K?" He strode bouncily out to the parking lot, waving his arms wide to flex his shoulders. As if on cue, a dark van pulled in, and he hopped into the passenger seat. Jesse got a glimpse inside, of a bright Hawaiian shirt, sloppily half buttoned, and a whiff even from this distance of cigarettes. Taylor Castilla tousled Erick's hair, waved casually at Jesse, and pulled out onto the street aggressively as Erick yanked the door closed behind him with a tinny clang.
Jesse withdrew into himself after that, barely hearing the conversation Kate and Mike had when they returned a moment later. It was only afterwards, as he and Mike walked down toward Ola Vista, that he mentioned it.
"What's he doing with that asshole?" Mike asked, the concern on his face matching what Jesse felt.
"Dunno. I mean he's like his manager and shit, I guess he coaches him too. Can you coach surfing, really?"
"Sure. I mean, there's lots of coaches, right? At school and all."
Jesse kicked idly at a stray bit of iceplant in the gutter. "I figured those guys just wanted an excuse to go out themselves - get paid for going out, every day."
Mike laughed. "Yeah, it's rough duty. Not like the football coaches getting all redfaced and yelling shit at kids." He puffed his chest out. "'Be a man, faggot!! Hit that fuckin' sled!!!'" They laughed about that for almost a block before returning to the subject.
"You don't think," Jesse said, tentatively, "that he's letting Taylor fuck with him - do you?"
"Shit no. You saw how messed up he was over that from last year. He's not gonna let him do that to him again. I can't like imagine that, Jes."
Jesse nodded and walked on, chewing his lip quietly. "I hope not," he finally said, as they crossed Esplanade.
Mike's mother was at home, and seemed less than willing to allow the two of them to be left to themselves. She found numerous excuses to knock on the door to Mike's room as they sat, Jesse sprawled on Mike's bed and Mike at his computer, pulling up songs on ITunes. Finally, Mike invited her in to join them, and she sat, very primly, on the edge of the bed as Mike downloaded some old Dick Dale to her account. "I'm not that old, Michael," she laughed, though she spoke very formally. "You can pull some Television, maybe some early Adam and the Ants and English Beat for me, too. I'm not quite as frumpy as you might think."
Mike grinned at her. "But I got all the PBS Lawrence Welk stuff already recorded for your birthday!" he protested.
"God," she said, standing and waving her hand. "You have no idea how - how excruciating that used to be. Being a kid and having to sit there while the adults actually watched that stuff. I can't believe it's still on." She turned to leave the rom. "Jesse, I think I should give you a key to the back door at least. I - I'm sure you'll be here, quite often."
Jesse sat up, glancing nervously at Mike. "I, uh, I don't need - "
"It's all right, dear. I know you two are - together. I still am not comfortable with it," she added, looking sharply at Mike, "but I am not totally blind to reality either." She cleared her throat. "All right, I need to go back to the office now. I'll leave you two - alone."
"Mom," Mike started, but she cut him off.
"It's all right, baby,' she said in a very crisp voice.
Mike smiled - that warm smile that always made Jesse complete putty in his hands. "No, Mom, I was just sayin' that I think we'd like to hit Rivvy for a while. Could you drive us?"
The warmth of her returning smile rivaled her son's. "Of course."
The afternoon was blisteringly hot. The boys were glad to spend it in the water, among friends. The tide was out, and a long foaming trail led south from the visible protrusions of Seal Rocks toward the south, where the outcropping continued just below the surface. Kelp was dislodging from the artificial reef the Edison people had put in the year before, making it periodically difficult to catch waves without becoming mired in it. Jesse laughed to himself as he listened to Mitch Huff (who seemed to have quite gotten over his infatuation with Kate, and now was openly fondling Molly deVries whenever they sat together on the beach) swear loudly and long as he tried to extricate himself and his board from an especially large spray of kelp. "Faggot-assed fucking shit!!!" he finally exclaimed, throwing a large tendril towards Jesse.
"Yo, Mitch, not this way, OK? I got clear for a reason, y'know?" Mitch grunted, still displeased. "Just out of curiosity, how can kelp be faggoty?" he was giggling as he asked.
Mitch's glance to him was hard, unpleasant "Go fuck yerself, queer." He paddled away to the north, leaving Jesse surprised and more than a little upset.
Mike and Danny Whelan (a friend who'd been away all summer) paddled out to him a minute later. "Sup?" Mike asked, his teeth sparkling in the sun. Jesse shrugged noncommittally. They chatted idly for a few minutes until Danny took off on a small waver breaking right. "Jes, you OK?" Mike asked.
"Ya," Jesse said, not entirely convinced himself. "Mitch was just being an asshole."
"There's a news flash," Mike laughed. "What now?"
Jesse shrugged. "He was caught up in some kelp, and he was swearing - pretty funny stuff, actually - calling it the kelp faggot and all."
Mike leaned back on his board, laughing. "How can kelp be faggoty?"
Jesse joined his laughter, a little. "Ya. Well I asked that, and he - he, um, called me a queer, and went off north." Jesse gestured to where Mitch and a few other guys - the Boyntons, Brooks Velez, Micah Knox - were waiting at another break spot, closer to Lost Winds, about a hundred yards up the beach.
Mike looked at him solemnly. "He doesn't know, Jes. He's just a jerkoff. He's pissed cuz he probably thinks you stole Kate from him and all. He thinks you're getting what he couldn't, right?"
"I guess." The tone of it all bothered Jesse. "This is what it's gonna be like, isn't it? Especially once people find out and all."
Mike moved closer to him with an easy stroke of his left arm. "With some people, ya, I guess. Not with anybody that matters, though."
Jesse ran his hand through his hair. "You think? Like, who matters, exactly, and who doesn't?"
Mike smiled. "We'll find out, Jes. The people who matter won't give a shit. And the ones who do care - well, they don't matter, or never should have, anyway. Right?"
Jesse turned, looked out toward the rocks along the horizon. A large swell soundlessly crested the rocks, headed inshore towards them. Jesse gestured at it, glancing at Mike, who nodded - he'd seen it, too. They moved apart to catch the wave at different points without interfering with each other's rides. Was it that simple, Jesse wondered? Was that how you figured out who was your friend, who was cool, who mattered, in a high school? As the water began to surge beneath him, and he rose to his feet, he glanced down at the clear surface, at that last moment before it foams up, and saw his own questioning face beneath him.
By 5, the beach was largely deserted. The boys were tired, lying on towels next to their boards just north of the tunnel. Mitch, Jesse had noted, had been similarly gruff with everyone he'd seen him interact with - except, of course, for poor Molly, who seemed unable to keep her top in place any time Mitch joined her on her towel for more than a moment, and only sporadically seemed to enjoy the attention. Danny Whelan gave a long travelogue about his summer in Hawaii, which seemed to consist of surf breaks, dope, mojitos, and getting laid by various "island babes." It all sounded like adolescent bullshit to Jesse. They all agreed to meet early the next day to surf before the holiday crowd began fucking things up - the fat pale guys from Anaheim Hills with weekend condos who bodyboarded clumsily inshore every holiday weekend among the fifth graders. It was typical teenaged snobbery and turf protection, but it was deeply felt. They lived here, this beach was theirs, they knew the waves and the break and the tides and the sun angles and each other, and why couldn't they just be fucking left alone to enjoy it? And they had a point, of course, though the real one was subtly different from what they believed it to be. Because youth does deserve its enclaves, its private unsullied spots, where bravado and clannishness and the deepening questioning bonds can grow and mature, unmixed with baser matter. Certainly, at least, unmixed with fat pale guys from Anaheim Hills.
Jesse was brushing sand off his board, preparing to leave, when a booming voice called him from southwards, towards the tunnel. He looked up and saw Uncle Booth striding across the sane, with Poche on a long lead. "Oh shit," he muttered.
Mike sat up. "What?"
"I promised I'd go walking with Uncle Booth. I missed it, he came down looking for me."
"You gonna be OK?"
"Ya, I think so. I mean he's not my dad, right?"
"He kinda scares me, he's so fuckin' big."
"He's OK. Listen, can you get my board? I don' want to just leave it here."
"No problem. Call me later?"
Jesse nodded and jogged off toward Uncle Booth. Poche recognized him as he approached, and began barking and leaping joyously. Uncle Booth pulled in the lead and released her, allowing her to bound over to and up on Jesse, who tried to catch her by her collar with no success. She sprinted off around the beach, heading toward the breakers. A sharp whistle from Uncle Booth brought her up short.
"We can't have her loose on the beach, Uncle Booth!! She can't even be on the beach, the lifeguards'll get all pissed off!"
Uncle Booth waved his hand dismissively as they came closer together. "I already looked, the guard's gone for the day. Sorry if I startled you; I figured from what your mother said that you'd be down here." He was wearing a Corps baseball cap, a polo shirt that was too tight around his biceps, and his perpetually overtaxed shorts.
"Ya, sorry. I, uh, I sort of lost track of time there."
Uncle Booth clapped his hands, and Poche trotted back towards him, a bit sheepishly. "Not a problem. It's your last week of the summer, I'd forget about everything else too if I were in your shoes." He snapped the lead back onto Poche's collar. "Let's walk, shall we?"
Walking with Uncle Booth was, as might be expected, no casual affair. His stride was fast and long - surprisingly so given his height. He rattled on about various inconsequential topics as they sped past State Beach and down towards Cotton Point and the turn toward Trestles.
After about half an hour (and as Jesse was starting to feel winded), they slowed along a narrow stretch of beach just before the point, where rocks had been piled to protect the railroad tracks from especially high tides. Uncle Booth sat on a large rock and let Poche's lead out, allowing her a good deal of freedom to check out the area. Jesse sat a few feet away, on another rock, trying not to let his breathing show.
"So," Uncle Booth said, looking at him evenly, "how are you holding up?"
Jesse felt himself curl up inside. I really don't want to have this conversation. "I'm OK," he said quietly, trying to avoid major eye contact.
"Bullshit." Jesse had never heard Uncle Booth swear before. "I know what's going on, Jesse. What happened. You mother and I talk a lot more than you think. And I'm not a total idiot, either. I can see things." Jesse couldn't look him in the eye. "You'll be happy to know I had a few long talks with the Social Services people - they won't be bothering you any more."
That made Jesse looked up. "You - how did you get - "
"I can be pretty persuasive when I need to be. A little smoothness, a little hard guy." He smiled crookedly. "Plus, the department supervisor was in the Corps, so he understood when I made it a point of honor." He leaned forward a bit. "That puts a responsibility on me, Jesse. It's on my honor now. You understand that?"
"Yes, sir." His dad had drilled him enough on that subject.
"Good. Then I need you to tell me exactly what happened. That night. I know it's ugly, and painful, and you probably don't want to talk about it. But I want to know - I need to know."
Jesse couldn't pull his eyes away from Uncle Booth's gaze now. He swallowed hard, and told him, everything he could remember, from when he arrived home, through dinner, to when he got knocked out. "Did you see your father after that - after he was in custody?"
Jesse shook his head. He didn't want to cry, he mustn't cry. "No. I - I never saw him again. They - they told me, I guess the next morning or something. That, you know, he was, dead."
"Was that before or after they mentioned the injuries they found? The ones to your backside?"
Jesse's voice caught for several seconds; he longed to just run someplace far away. "Th - they, I think they said something - about, um, that - the first night, when I was first there and all."
"They thought your father had done that?" Jesse nodded. "But he didn't?" Jesse couldn't answer, he just shook his head.
Jesse felt a horrible sense of how he'd betrayed his father. And now, here he was, confessing it to his father's best friend. "They - they has my mouth all like wired up, I tried to say something, I was really upset, and - and I guess they knocked my back our or something." His shame was overpowering. "Uncle Booth I didn't say - "
"I know. I know you didn't." Uncle Booth looked at him for a long second, then tugged Poche away from the rocks as a train approached. "No, Walt would never do anything like that. I knew him too well." They looked at each other as the train passed, making any conversation impossible. "Now, understand, the official reports are always going to be that your father molested you. I can't change that, the circumstantial evidence is too strong, especially with him committing suicide right after being accused. CPS is damn convinced of that, and they won't let go of it. They see too many cases of the kid lying to protect his parents for them to buy your denials, that's just the way of the world."
"That's not right. Daddy doesn't - he shouldn't like, go down in history, as - as some sort of pervert, or something."
"No, he shouldn't. But part of you wanted him to. Part of you wanted to punish him. You didn't say anything the next morning, did you? To correct it?" Jesse opened his mouth to protest. "Truth, Jesse. Be a good Marine here."
Jesse stood and started walking aimlessly. "He - he killed Tina, Uncle Booth. And he beat Mom up, and he - he hurt me, and - what the fuck, Uncle Booth, he was evil, what he did . . . " He was crying now, not caring that he'd sworn in front of Uncle Booth, his hand strayed to the scar he could still feel across the bridge of his nose.
"I know, son. It was wrong. He snapped."
Jesse rounded on him. "Snapped?? SNAPPED??? He fucking tried to kill us. And - and I never told them he did it! He fucking deserved for me to tell them, but I never did. He just - he . . . " Jesse couldn't make himself say it.
"You think he killed himself out of shame over you, don't you?" Uncle Booth's voice was very quiet. "Over the fact that he found out you were having sex with another boy. Right?"
Jesse stood very still, fists balled, staring at the sand. One sob escaped him. "I was his, his great disappointment - he told me that. That night, he told me. And that's what I wound up being." He wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist. "I killed him."
"Wrong." Uncle Booth's voice was firm now. "I told you, your father was the most honorable person I know. He could get snared up in his own sense of honor to the point where he couldn't see straight, but he was the best damn Marine I ever saw." He reached out and pulled Jesse back onto the rock next to him, into a soft embrace. Jesse cried then, loudly, for a long time, Poche nuzzling his leg out of concern. Uncle Booth's hand was in his hair, petting him. "God, son, it's OK. It's OK. You're just like him, your hair even feels like his. You take the whole damn world onto your own shoulders, like you have to do everything, handle everything. And you don't have to. You don't have to do any of this, not alone." He pulled back and looked at him, smiling. "Not even with Mike helping you. That's his name, isn't it?"
Jesse caught his breath a moment, the humiliation washing over him. "How did you - who - oh, God, I'm sorry, Uncle Booth! I shamed him, and he killed himself!! I didn't wanna be like this, I didn't wanna be queer, I wanted him to love me and be proud of me and I failed him and I hurt him so bad that he hung himself in a fucking holding cell all alone . . . " His sobs tore through him now, strangling him, suffocating him, threatening to tear his guts out and spill them all over the sand. Uncle Booth held him very still, very fast, in his arms.
"You didn't shame him, Jesse. He felt too much of his own, shame he generated himself, in his own head, that he could never accept. He did what he thought was the honorable thing."
It took several minutes for this to penetrate, before Jesse finally calmed down enough to ask, "What d' you mean?"
Uncle Booth let Jesse go and sighed. "Your dad and I were very close, Jesse. We knew everything about each other, could read each other like a book. I knew he was in love with your mother the first time I saw him look at her." He glanced down at his feet. "I, I don't think I ever quite forgave him for that."
The next several seconds were very quiet.
"Your dad and I fell in with each other during basic, at LeJeune. It was like I'd found a long lost brother, someone I'd never felt closer to. By the time we were in OCS - when was it, '84, '85? Well, we'd already done it." He looked up at Jesse. "Your father and I, Jesse, we were crazy about each other. We were, well, in love. Physically. You need me to spell it out for you?" Jesse shook his head numbly; it was clear Uncle Booth didn't want to go into detail. "I never - never loved, cared for, anyone else like I did Walt."
Jesse was blinking rapidly, trying to form words. "B- but - but Mom - "
"Never knew. Doesn't know now. She and your dad met in '87, when we were stationed in Perris Island. She was a very pretty girl, Jesse, and just the greatest woman to be around I ever saw. And your dad - well, he was gone in a second. He - " Uncle Booth took a deep breath - "he could never quite accept it - us. Himself. What he wanted, versus what he thought he should want. It was just at odds with his sense of honor, of what the Corps told him was honorable. And of course it was against regulations - our being, well, involved, was a huge breach of honor to your dad. He could never get around that. Made him feel terrible, as if he were betraying the Corps."
"What about you?"
Uncle Booth smiled sadly. "My sense of honor was never as strong as that, Jesse. I could live the double life real easily . . . as long as Walt was OK with it. But when he met your mother, he felt like he could finally make himself honorable - 'a good decent Marine,' he put it." He laughed - a short, pained laugh. "They got married in something like three months, and Ben wasn't far behind."
Jesse had sat back down on the rock. "So that was it? You - you and Daddy, after that - you never - "
"No, I'm afraid we did, Jesse. Not often. But we did. The last major time was when we were over on Desert Shield, Desert Storm, together." Jesse flashed on the picture of them that his mother kept in her room - both shirtless, arms over each other's shoulders. Of course. "We were thick as thieves that whole tour." He kicked at a stray bit of dried seaweed for a moment. "And people noticed. You think you're being careful, but a base like that is a real small town." He sighed. "That's why your father resigned his commission. He was up for promotion to lieutenant colonel, I guess you were in fourth grade, you'd all just been posted here. I was up for it, too. And someone - probably another candidate, trying for a leg up - started a rumor about it. Aimed it mostly at your dad, not me - he was closer to the top of the list. All he had to do was deny it, they'd have believed him in a minute. He'd have gotten it." His face twisted in a quiet moment of self disgust. "I mean, I did - I denied it. Lots of times. They believed me."
Jesse's hands were laced together, squeezed tight. "But Daddy told the truth, didn't he?"
"Of course he did. They asked him straight out, and he answered, straight out. The only thing he wouldn't do was to tell them who his 'partner' was - he wouldn't tell them about me." Uncle Booth was looking down again. "I should have resigned with him. He of all people didn't deserve to be treated like that. I - I was just weak, Jesse. I'm not as good a man as your father was. I - I hid who I was, what I was, and I let him take it all on himself. That, that was just despicable, of me . . . " He looked back at Jesse. "I did all I could afterwards - I helped him get the job at NevaCal, made it a point of honor for them to hire him and take care of him. But, I think, they found out eventually. Those things are supposed to stay confidential, but they don't."
Now it was Uncle Booth who stood and paced, slowly. "He was so ashamed, Jesse. Of what he thought he'd done to his career in the Corps, of lying to your mother all those years, of how he thought he'd disgraced his honor. And - and I think, when they told him they thought he'd touched you, that last night, he knew it'd all come out. Your mother would find out, everyone would find out. You'd find out. He couldn't stand betraying you, all of you, like that. So he did what he thought was the only honorable thing."
"Jesse gulped. "I wouldn't have cared. Mom wouldn't have cared, or Ben. We - we loved him, he was Dad."
"Walt could never just be Dad. He was the good Marine. His honor was everything. And they took that from him. They took it by telling him that - that the most intimate part of him, something he loved - who he loved - that it was wrong. They turned it a breach of his honor, and he believed it, because he believed in the Corps. Hell, if his CO had told him to set himself on fire, he'd never even blink."
"You need to know this, Jesse. You need to know that nothing you did, nothing you could ever do, could make him want to kill himself. He did it because of himself - what was inside, what he believed versus what he'd done. Or at least what he saw himself as having done. That last night, he snapped - he lost it. First time I think he ever lost control. And that shamed him even more - that he could do such things to people he loved, to you and your mother. I think - I think it just confirmed to him that he'd lost the last shred of his honor, and that there was only one answer for it." Uncle Booth wiped at his eyes. "And I should have been here. I might have been able to make a difference. I'm so sorry, Jesse. I abandoned your dad, for so many years, and I knew he needed me. Not even physically, but - I was the only one who knew. The only one who could understand." He sat back down, heavily; for the first time Jesse felt the toll Uncle Booth's big frame and demeanor took on him. The cost of keeping up the fa‡ade.
"He - he hurt you, when he left - for my mom, and all. Didn't he?"
Uncle Booth smiled thinly. "He hurt us both."
Jesse nodded. "B -Ben -"
"He and I have had some long talks already. That's how I found out a great deal about you, what's been happening in your life. You love him, don't you - you friend Mike?"
Jesse swallowed hard. "Yes sir. More than anything."
Uncle Booth nodded. "Then don't you ever let anyone, or anything, make you think that feeling that is wrong, or shameful, or not - not honorable. You hear me? Never. Don't you bear the guilt like your father did, don't you let it eat you up like it ate at him. It - it's too precious, Jesse, what you've got."
"I - I will."
Poche had dug herself a small hole in the sand, and was now snoring softly, tired from the long walk. Uncle Booth looked down at her with a tolerant smile. "All right, that's about half of what we needed to talk about here today."
Jesse blinked. "Half?"
Uncle Booth sighed, nodding. "I've managed to stay in the Corps, but, to tell the truth, Jesse, it hasn't been easy. The same sorts of rumors that got to your dad have been following me, from time to time. And, of course, I haven't been truthful, like your dad was. I've lied, a lot, to get where I am. My rank, my command, all of it. It - it's almost second nature to me now. The lying. Sometimes I don't know where the lies end and I start. Walt - your dad, he was always good at straightening me up on that." Another train went by, the noise gave both a chance to think before they could speak again.
"Was he - like, mad at you - for not being honest and all?" Jesse couldn't bring himself to say that Uncle Booth had lied; the very notion seemed impossible to him.
Uncle Booth smiled thinly. "No, he understood. He, well, he had his own lies that he had told. He was a lot better to me than I was to him, really. He always felt so badly about - about your mother, and us. It was . . . complicated. I kept trying not to be resentful, toward him, and I didn't always succeed. But I always knew I could tell him anything, and that he'd know for himself what I'd left out." He shook his head. "In a lot of ways, we were closer after he'd left the Corps - after we'd, um, stopped being intimate and such - than we ever were when we were together."
"But anyway," he added in a more direct voice, ending his reminiscence, "as I said, I've had to compromise myself, Jesse, to stay in the Corps. Compromise my honor, your dad would have called it. I did it when they asked us about the rumors, and I lied. I've done it since. It protects me from being exposed, protects my career - which, I guess, I've cared more about." He winced at his confession. "So I do favors for people, periodically, to keep them quiet. People in the Corps who, well, like to work different angles. There are always people in the service like that. They use you - your weak points, and so on - to get advantages for themselves. It gets worse, actually, as you rise in rank - after all, I'm technically the same rank as the base commander now. There's more riding on you co-operating. So," he sighed, "you do what people 'ask' of you, and no questions asked."
He looked very directly at Jesse. "For example, just yesterday I managed, well, sort of a photo shoot - on base, along the beach down by Las Pulgas. Kept an eye on it, so it wasn't disturbed. The clients I was assigned wanted their privacy."
Jesse's legs gave out. "Oh God. Oh God,"
Uncle Booth lifted him onto a rock, turned him so they faced each other. "It's all right. I know you wouldn't do any of that willingly. I know you, Jesse - you're Walt's son, after all. You've got that same God damned streak of honor that he did. You need to tell me how this happened. I need to know everything. I can help you. I will help you. But I need to know."
"I - I'm sorry. It's awful, I know that, and I'm awful, and - "
"Stop it. It's OK. Don't apologize. You're not awful. But tell me. Everything. I need you to be a good Marine here, all right? Tell me."
And slowly, with a lot of crying and remorse, Jesse did.