The trip home went smoothly. And except for the travel time, was enjoyable. It took us fourteen hours by bus to get to Buenos Aires, and another 14 hours by plane to get home. It was great to see mom again and we spent a lot of time as a family. It was weird up until then, we'd never been very close, but suddenly every moment together was special. I got registered for school and picked up all the homework I'd need for the next 2 months. It seemed like I'd just gotten off the plane when it was time to get back on. Another 28 hours later we got home. It was 11:00 pm when I finally dropped into bed. I didn't even bother to get undressed.
I awoke with a start, trying to get my bearings. My clock read 4:00 and I wondered if it was am or pm. Then I heard the scratching. It must have been what woke me up. Someone was trying to get in the house. I got up and went to the front door as noiselessly as possible. I trembled as I looked out the peep hole. I was scared of what I would see. But there was nothing there. I eased the bolt back and cracked the door open ready to slam it shut if the situation warranted.
I recognized the lump lying on the porch as human but not much else. There was blood everywhere. It lay there clad only in underwear. The brutality that had been unleashed on this person was horrific and I felt my stomach clench. I was going to be sick. I jumped over the body and threw myself on the lawn where I proceeded to expel everything I'd eaten that day. On hands and knees I looked back at the figure. Oh shit. It's Seba.
"DAD!" I screamed "I NEED HELP OUT HERE!"
The world was spinning and I was close to passing out. But I dragged myself over to Seba's body. I could make out his chest rising. I didn't think it was happening enough. I didn't know what to do. I didn't dare touch him afraid of making things worse. Dad burst out the door in his underwear.
"Oh my god." He breathed.
"Dad its Seba!"
"Holy shit! What did they do?"
I knew then how much this affected my dad. I'd never heard him swear before.
"Sean! Get up and call for an ambulance. Make sure you call the private clinic not the public hospital. Good call dad the public hospital here scared me. I'd gone in once to use the bathroom and was so horrified at what I'd seen I turned and ran. I barely made it home to pee.
I called the clinic and they told me they'd send someone immediately. I went back out to see what I could do. Dad had straightened Seba out and was kneeling at the top of his head holding it carefully in line with the rest of his body.
"Run and get a blanket then some warm wet washcloths."
I hurried back inside grabbed the blankets off my bed and took them out and placed them as gently as I could over his body. I got the washcloths and at dads insistence I started cleaning off his face. The damage was horrifying. Both his eyes were swollen shut. When I touched his nose he flinched. I was sure it was broken. His left ear was cut so deeply that it looked like it would fall off. I couldn't believe that someone could do this to another human being.
The ambulance arrived a short time later. They came up the stairs and stopped dead. I don't think that even they could believe what had been done to Seba. One of them shook his head like he was clearing it of a bad thought. They moved forward and with extreme care packaged him for transport. Dad ran inside to get dressed and hurried out just in time to get in the ambulance with them.
"Sean. I'm going with them. There's nothing you can do now. Get cleaned up and get some sleep. When you wake up you can come to the clinic to see how he's doing."
I nodded ok. And then they were gone. I looked down at myself. My clothes were streaked with blood. I finally tasted the bile in my mouth and lost it again right there before I could even bend over. Vomit ran down my chin and soaked into the blood stained clothes. The smell coming off of me was making me even more nauseous. I stripped down to my shorts right there. I was so numb I couldn't even feel the cold.
I went inside and climbed into the shower. I scrubbed and scrubbed until there wasn't any warm water left. I could still feel the vomit on me though. I went in my room and dug some shorts out of a drawer. I found a spare blanket and threw myself onto the bed. Sleep never came. I lay there watching the minutes tick by on the clock. I didn't really believe in prayer. I still felt god hated me. But that night I prayed. And somewhere along the way I fell into a restless sleep.
I woke up two hours later, groggy and sick to my stomach. I ran to the bathroom and threw up again. After the last heave released me I pulled myself up to find some antacid. I lay down until my stomach settled down then got up to get some water. Five minutes later it hadn't come back up so I decided I was ready to go to the hospital. I walked as fast as I dared. I knew if I went too fast I'd be heaving again. Twenty minutes later I walked into the clinic.
I looked around and saw dad slumped in a chair. The look he gave me told me things weren't good. I stumbled into a chair next to him.
"Sean, his wounds aren't as bad as they look. The worst things are some broken ribs, a bruised liver, and they think one of his kidneys is damaged. But due to the years of malnutrition he suffered his body isn't going to be able to heal as readily as you or I would. His body has actually shut down anything that's not necessary for survival, he's in a coma. And I'm not going to lie to you. The doctor is giving him a 40% chance of survival. They are doing everything they can to help his body overcome this. He's receiving antibiotics, and vitamin and nutrition supplements. But in the long run it's going to be him that determines his survival. I pray that he's strong enough."
My mind went numb. 40% chance of survival. There was a greater chance that he'd die than survive. Thoughts of him ran through my head. The impish grin I loved. The way his eyes shone when I gave him a coke. The wonderful laugh he had. The conversations we'd had. And the ribbing we gave each other while playing video games. It wasn't fair. He'd already been through so much. I knew why god hated me but why did he hate Seba?
"Sean."
I looked at my dad. Tears ran down my face. My throat felt like it was closing off and I wasn't getting enough to breathe. I threw myself into dad's arms and sobbed.
"The police were called in this morning." He choked out. "His brother was arrested. I called one of my bosses who has a lot of influence here. I've already got a restraining order against his family and temporary guardianship. He will be coming home with us if he wakes up."
I couldn't miss that dad had said "if" and I cried that much harder. A long time passed before I could compose myself. I pulled away and saw that dad's eyes were red and swollen he'd been crying also. And his shirt where my head had been was soaked through. I felt bad for breaking down like that.
"When can I see him?"
"As soon as you feel like you can do it. He doesn't look as bad as you think. He's breathing on his own, they only have one IV going into him and most of his head is bandaged.
"I think I'd like to see him then."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
I shook my head no.
"Ok son, I need to go home and get cleaned up. Maybe take a nap. Will you be ok here by yourself?"
I nodded knowing that he was giving me some time to be alone with my friend. He pointed me to his room then told me he'd come get me later on. I walked down the hall to Seba's room. They had the blinds down and it was dark. I could barely make him out. I felt bad but I was glad I couldn't see him. I pulled a chair up to his bed, took his hand in mine and talked to him until dad came and got me.
Seba beat the odds the doctor had given him and four days later he opened his eyes. He came home with us the next day. Dad arranged to have a nurse come by to check on him twice a day and gave me permission to stay with him for a week. I still had to do my studying for the American school but I could forgo School here. Ricky came by after school almost every day. I think he grew to like Seba as much as we did. We brought the TV into my room and played video games for hours.
The school arrangement worked fine for me. I could be company for Seba while I studied. He wasn't really up to doing much anyway and spent a lot of time asleep. The doctor told us that his recovery would take longer because of the malnutrition but to be patient. It appeared that he would recover fully.
Dad put a bed for him in my room. The first night back I woke to hear him tossing and turning. He kept muttering "stop, stop, please stop" I got up and climbed into bed with him. Holding him close to me I whispered in his ear. I told him he was safe. I told him he'd never have to go back to them. And I told him how much we loved him. He stopped thrashing and in short order had fallen into a deep peaceful sleep.
I slept with him every night from then on. Dad told me that Seba had probably been deprived of love and touching. And it was ok with him for me to provide it for him. The weeks passed. Summer was on its way and it was getting hot at night.
One day in late October I made a huge mistake. Dad had promised to get me a fan the next day to help cool us off at night but that night I would just have to endure. I woke up really early, the clock said four. The mattress and pillow under me were hot. Seba's body next to mine was too hot. I didn't want to move away though. I knew he needed the touch and I enjoyed the feel of him against me. We were both in our shorts. A thin sheet covered us.
I'll never know what possessed me. I was watching Seba sleep. He looked so peaceful. A small smile played on his lips. At that moment it struck me just how deeply I'd fallen for him. I started caressing his chest, then down to his stomach and finally my hand was in his shorts and on his hardness. Oh God. What was I doing? I knew it was wrong but I couldn't stop. It felt so right in my hand.
His breathing caught and I jerked my eyes upward. His eyes were open and staring at me, a look of horror on his face.
"Sean?" he whispered "Are you a fag?"
I ripped my hand away from him, threw myself out of bed and huddled in the corner. I couldn't keep my eyes off his face. My lack of response seemed to confirm his fears. The changes his face went through seemed to take forever. The horror followed by realization then rage. I'd never seen him so mad. Tears sprang to my eyes I tried to say I was sorry but nothing came.
"Holy fuck I've been sleeping with a queer! What the fuck did you think you were doing? My God a fucking fag. Oh shit I'm going to be sick. Stay the fuck away from me you perv."
He threw some clothes on and left. The slamming of the front door broke the floodgates and I cried. I couldn't believe what I'd done. And now he's gone.
Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.
Copyright Notice - Copyright 2005 by yaalc.
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