Act Two- The Dance of the Wicked Boys
This is the sequel to Dance of the Wicked Boys. It is not imperative that you read the first novel before reading this one as I have included enough hints throughout the first chapter as to what happened before that a new reader will not be completely lost. However, I would hope you would read the first one as it will help you understand the motivations and the feelings of the characters in the sequel. The story takes place in 1970, so the descriptions of New York City, Times Square, and the drive from New York City to the Hamptons may not seem accurate for a contemporary story, but show the way it was forty-four years ago. Times Square wasn't always a Disney Theme Park. Also, the use of anachronistic terms such as “Negro” or “colored” represent the thinking and ways of speaking of the America of 1970 and in no way are intended to be disrespectful to African-Americans. One of the themes of this story is opposition to bigotry and prejudice! Further, there may be things and ways of thinking regarding sex and intergenerational relations that many today would find abhorrent, but which, once again, reflect the way things were in 1970 rather than today. SPOILER: no adult men have sex with underage boys in this story, though it might seem that such might happen. However, the story does explore the feelings and the anguish such desires might engender.
Ballet Academy of America and Ballet of America are fictional entities and any resemblance to existing institutions is purely coincidental. Greensburg is a fictional city.
DANGER WILL ROBINSON! DANGER! This story may contain scenes of sexual activity between underage males. If it may be illegal for you for read this in your jurisdiction or if you are offended by the subject matter of this story, please read no further. I would be very grateful to hear from you about my story. Please write to me at:
frthnkr1957nifty gmail com
And PLEASE contribute to Nifty! This is an invaluable resource for the GLBTQ community and a bastion in the fight for Internet freedom and Free Speech!
Act Two- The Dance of the Wicked Boys
by FreeThinker
Chapter Ten
“Well, I guess that's one less prodigy to worry about,” Andy Daugherty snorted. “What the hell's the matter with him?”
Dylan turned to the smirking teenager and said, “Shut up, you asshole! You don't know the hell he's been through!”
“Well, if he's going to freak out every time he has to perform, he's not going last too long, now, is he?” Andy sneered.
Dante turned to him and said, “You really are a jerk, you know that?”
“So, does that mean you're going to quit living off my family while you're in New York?” the boy replied.
Dylan didn't remain to hear the rest of the conversation. He made his way through the other guests, dancers and staff from the company and the academy and was hurrying toward the veranda and the doors to the atrium when he saw a movement above him. He turned his face upward and saw Jeremy climbing onto the balustrade of the balcony above at the same moment he heard Rafael's terrified scream from within the house.
“Jeremy! No!” Dylan cried as he ran toward the boy.
Jeremy was sobbing uncontrollably as he stood on his knees on the concrete railing.
“I've ruined everything!” he cried. “Everything, Dylan!”
Jeremy was leaning over and was about to fall when Rafael appeared and grabbed him, yanking him back onto the floor of the balcony. Dylan closed his eyes in relief before running into the house. Conrad was running from the kitchen hallway and passed him going toward the stairs. Teddy was following behind him, tears running down his cheeks and a look of terror on his face.
When he reached their bedroom, Dylan found Rafael on the balcony, on his knees, arms wrapped around the younger boy, both sobbing with heartbreaking pain. Alistair and Conrad stood above them and Teddy pushed through before falling to his knees and taking both boys in his arms.
“I've ruined everything!” Jeremy wailed. “I've ruined everything!”
“No, you haven't, sweetheart! It's all right! It's all right!” Rafael sobbed. “It's all right!”
Alistair knelt before him and said, “You haven't ruined anything, Jeremy. You just had a little nervous episode. That's all. You're fine, son. You're fine.”
Jeremy looked up then, and they all saw his glassy eyes. “I'm sorry, Daddy!” he wailed. “I've tried as hard as I can! I really did! I'm sorry Daddy!”
Conrad looked over at Alistair and said, “He's lapsed back to where he was before.”
Alistair nodded and reached over to the boys. “Come on, Rafael. Help us get him to the bed.”
Geoffrey appeared in the room just as Conrad and Alistair were carrying the crying figure of Jeremy into the bedroom. Teddy was helping the distraught Rafael, who climbed onto the bed and desperately held the younger boy.
“What can I do?” Geoffrey asked.
Alistair turned to him and said, “There's a black address book on my desk in the study. Bring it up here. I need it now.”
Geoffrey nodded and ran out of the room.
Alistair knelt beside the bed as Conrad and Teddy stood beside him. He caressed Jeremy's face and whispered, “It's all right, Jeremy. Just relax and feel peaceful. Everything's just fine. You are a good boy, Jeremy, and we all love you. You're a wonderful boy and a wonderful dancer and you're going to be a great success, Jeremy. You are and Rafael and Conrad and I are going to do everything we can to help you become the great dancer you'll be. Your parents would be proud of you, Jeremy. They would; we're all proud of you, Jeremy. Every one of us is proud of you, sweetheart. You haven’t spoiled anything.”
Jeremy continued to whimper, but he was no longer speaking to his father or wailing that he had ruined everything. Teddy handed his handkerchief to Alistair, who wiped the tears and snot from Jeremy's face as he continued to caress him and whisper comforting words to him. Rafael tightly held him, his own tears falling onto Jeremy's face.
After a long moment, the younger boy whimpered, “I've ruined everything. I'm a good dancer and I've ruined everything. I let everyone down. I'm so sorry, Rafael. I'm so sorry.”
Rafael began to cry again as he whispered into the boy's ear, “You didn't let me down, Jeremy. I let you down. It's all my fault, Jeremy. You didn't let any of us down.”
He looked over at Alistair and, tears still streaming down his face, said, “I should have known. The nightmares—its all my fault! I should have known!”
“It's no one's fault, Rafi,” Alistair said as he reached over and ran his fingers through the teenager's curls. “Or it's all our fault, for none of saw how deeply he was hurting, how troubled he was.”
“We brought him here too soon,” Teddy whispered. “I should have known that it was all too much change for him.”
“No,” Alistair said. “Let's all concentrate on letting Jeremy know how much we all love him and care for him and how proud we are of him.”
Geoffrey came back into the room and said, “Here it is,” as Alistair looked up.
He took the book and rose to his feet. “I'm calling the doctor. Conrad, you and Teddy stay with him. Dylan, you and Geoffrey go out and let everyone know that everything's all right and ask them all to relax and... well, do whatever. I'll be down later to let them know what the situation is.”
He turned to Teddy, who had replaced him at Jeremy's side, and said, “Watch over them, Teddy.”
“I will,” the man replied as he gently caressed Jeremy's forehead.
All the while, Jeremy was whispering, “I let everyone down, Teddy. I let everyone down. Mommy and Daddy will never be proud of me now. I let everyone down.”
Alistair closed his eyes for several seconds, the pain of listening to the boy difficult to bear, before he turned and left the room.
--o-0-o--
Darkness had descended over the house. Alistair had gone outside to apologize to the guests and offer to let them stay and drink, eat, and socialize before he reentered the house and returned to the second floor.
When the doctor emerged from the room, Alistair led him to the study downstairs, along with Teddy and Conrad, leaving Rafael with the now sleeping Jeremy, holding him securely in his arms .
“The boy has had what layman would call a nervous breakdown. The nightmares he has experienced combined with his obsessive insistence on practicing more than he needs to and the pressure to perform perfectly in front of you gentlemen are all causative. He has had a severe traumatic incident. There is no official term in the DSM for what's happened, but it's similar to what we see in some soldiers returning from Vietnam. Aside from the death of his parents and his uncle's abusive treatment of the boy, have there been any long-term issues with the boy?”
Teddy leaned forward in his chair and said, “He has been obsessed with perfection for as long as he's danced. He believes his parents permitted him to train as a dancer because they loved him, but he felt they would have preferred he go into sports instead. He has been obsessed with doing well to justify their letting him train. Apparently, he feels he would be letting them down if he wasn’t doing his absolute best.”
The doctor nodded and said, “That's common in families with high achievers and high expectations.”
“He also has a problem with his older brother,” Teddy added. “His older brother got all the attention, though the boy is a failure in almost everything he does. Jeremy has always been the one who worked hard and achieved and since their parents died, Brian, the older brother, has simply drunk and smoked pot and partied. Jeremy has admitted that he never understood why Brian got all the attention when it was he who earned the good grades and worked his heart out at ballet.”
The doctor nodded and said, “That would make sense then. We see this sort of thing when there has been long-term trauma or similar issues. This has been brewing for a while. There is usually, however, something that triggers this kind of acute incident. You say he was performing on stage when it happened?”
“Yes,” Alistair replied, “and he was performing beautifully, excellently, with feeling and passion. It was magnificent...and then, in the middle of a leap, it seemed to falter.”
“Did something happen? For instance, perhaps did anyone in the audience say anything?”
The three men thought for a moment and then Conrad nodded.
“Yes. Andrew Daugherty, one of our students, said, 'Wicked. Fucking wicked.' He was using it as a compliment. He said it at a normal volume, so Jeremy could easily have heard it.”
The doctor nodded and Teddy quickly added, “That had to be it because Jeremy was looking directly at Andy when I saw his eyes change and he started speaking as if to his mother. He was directly addressing Andy. That has to be it. 'Wicked' must have been a word Jeremy's mother used—and in the traditional sense, not the colloquial sense.”
The doctor nodded and Alistair asked, “Is this something that can be treated? Is he going to have similar incidents in the future?”
“I'm not a psychiatrist, Alistair, but I would think that if this is left untreated, he very well could experience episodes like this in the future. It is common after deeply traumatic incidents for subjects to have nightmares and to dissociate to the point that they think they are back in the traumatic incident. Many of the doctors who work with soldiers returning from Vietnam unofficially refer to this as a post-traumatic stress incident. He needs to see a psychiatrist.”
“Will he be able to train this fall?” Teddy asked.
“I don't know. I don't know how serious his emotional pain is. I don’t know how he’d handle the pressure of that sort of school. Only a specialist in that field could answer that question.”
He rose and said, “Here are some tranquilizers in case there is a recurrence before you can arrange for him to see a specialist. And, here is a card with the name of a very good man I recommend in Southampton. Of course, there are many in the city and I'm sure your staff physician can recommend one there.”
Alistair nodded and shook his hand as he replied, “Thank you. If anything further happens, I'll call.”
The doctor nodded and said, “Let him get some sleep tonight.”
He turned, but stopped, adding, “It's surprising to find this kind of thing in one so young as he. Children seem more resilient that adults at handling these kinds of issues.”
--o-0-o--
Rafael held the sleeping boy in his arms as he lay beside him, still wearing his leotard and tights. He had stared down at his face since the doctor left, unable to bring himself to leave Jeremy's side. He gently brushed a strand of hair across the boy’s forehead and kissed his cheek as he watched Jeremy's chest rise and fall with his breathing. The boy seemed to be deeply asleep. Outside, he could hear conversation at the gathering on the patio and he was surprised everyone hadn't left. Wearily, he sat up and carefully crawled off the bed at the other side so as not to disturb the sleeping boy.
He undressed and then put on a pair of jeans and an Izod pullover before walking barefoot around the bed and gazing down with love and pain at the closed eyes. Jeremy's lips were just barely moving. He wasn't having another dream, was he? Rafael took a deep breath and turned, padding across the carpet to the door. He stopped and looked back a final time before quietly stepping out the door. Rafael didn’t really want to leave him alone, but the doctor had said Jeremy would sleep all night without waking.
The house was quiet as he walked down the hall toward the stairs. He could hear music outside and was surprised the party had gone on after what had happened. He paused at the top of the stairs, unsure that he wanted to see anyone, though he wanted to know what the doctor had said.
At the bottom of the stairs he turned and walked past the koi pool, but stopped when he saw Geoffrey emerge from the hallway leading to the kitchen.
“How is he?” the young man asked.
Rafael sighed and looked down before replying, “He's asleep. The doctor gave him a pill.”
“Alistair and Conrad are in the study with Teddy. Alistair told everyone to go ahead and enjoy themselves outside and he’d be back out to play host a little later.”
He paused a moment and then asked, “Are you all right?”
“I could shoot myself for being so blind,” Rafael replied, “for not seeing what anyone should have been able to see.”
“No, no,” Geoffrey replied as he placed a hand on Rafael's shoulder. “That won’t help at all, and isn’t even true. What’s important is, you love him. That’s what he needs now.”
Rafael nodded, but Geoffrey looked down and said, “You know, at first, I thought Alistair was going to... well, you know...”
Rafael nodded and said, “I thought so, too.”
“And, I even told him I'd help him set up the situation,” Geoffrey added. “But, he sees how special what you and Jeremy have is. And, I do, too. Alistair won't try to be more than a father figure to him. You can relax about that, if you were worried.”
“I wasn't. I was worried about Conrad, but I wasn't worried about Alistair.”
He waited a moment and then added, “Much.”
Geoffrey grinned and said, “They're in the study.”
“Thanks,” Rafael replied with a sincere smile.
Entering the room, he found the three sitting before each other, each with a glass of Scotch. They smiled as he entered and Teddy asked, “How is he? ”
“Asleep,” Rafael replied. “I'll go back up in a few minutes. I don't want to leave him for too long. What did the doctor say?”
Alistair recounted their discussion with the doctor. Rafael sat down and listened with deep interest, nodding here and there, until Alistair had finished. Teddy sighed heavily and said, “I'm going to have to call his aunt tomorrow.”
“Oh, you can't!” Rafael objected. “She'll insist he go back to Greensburg! I know her and that's the worst thing that could happen to him! To move back into that horrid house and to face everyone and feel that he's a failure... that will kill him! Teddy, you can't call her.”
“I have to, Rafael. I'm his temporary guardian here in New York, but I have a legal obligation to Jane to call her.”
“Can't you wait, though, until he's seen a shrink and we know for sure what's going on?” Rafael begged. “The worst possible thing would be for him to go back home!”
“I know that, but I seriously doubt his aunt will see it that way. She is his legal guardian and I am required to notify her of any problems.”
Rafael's shoulders sagged in despair before he looked up and asked, “Maybe you could call Grayson Harrison first.”
“The deviant lawyer who's handling the Fenwick estate?” Teddy asked.
“He's really a nice man,” Rafael replied. “He's simply trapped in a city that doesn't give him much opportunity to be himself.”
“Yes, I'm sure.”
“Anyway, he'll be able to tell us more about what to do and how he thinks Jane will react and if there's any way we can avoid sending Jeremy back or...or even telling her until he's recovered.”
Alistair nodded and said, “That might be a good idea. Is this lawyer someone we can trust?”
“Oh, yes,” Rafael replied. “He was a friend of my stepfather and...well...we first met at a party my stepfather threw when I was ten, if you know what I mean.”
A look of strong distaste came over Alistair's face and Rafael quickly added, “He's a good man. He hated what Stephen did to me and he's a gentleman, but he will be on our side—or rather Jeremy's side. He'll be more interested in Jeremy's interests than Jane’s and he'll see that Jeremy needs to be here. It'll help to have him on our side.”
“I think he's you’re right,” Teddy said with a nod. “I'll call him in the morning. It's a Saturday, though.”
“I've got his home number,” Rafael replied with a blush. “He, um, gave it to me last week.”
Teddy raised an eyebrow as Rafael reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet. “Hey, we had dinner. That was the night we decided what to do about Jeremy.”
Teddy nodded and smirked.
“Hey, I called you that night,” Rafael said defensively. “Remember?”
Teddy smiled teasingly and took the business card Rafael held out to him.
“I really think he'll be okay,” the teenager said. “I really think that he just needs a few days to rest and relax and once he gets into the routine of training, everything will be just fine.”
Alistair shook his head and said, “Rafael, you know the pressure our trainees are under. Between school and Ballet Academy, its intense. We can't take a chance that Jeremy will have more problems or that the stress will worsen the situation. We need to get this under control and taken care of and, Teddy's right. We need to inform his aunt, though I would prefer we wait until we have a better handle on what's going on and how to deal with it.”
Rafael nodded and sighed. He rose to his feet and Alistair extended a hand to him. He took it as the man asked, “How are you doing?”
Rafael shook his head and replied, “It's all my fault. I should have seen that the nightmares were a sign something was wrong. I should have known how much his parents' approval meant to him. Madame Pulchova tried to warn me last week and I thought it would be okay. I didn't think it would be a problem, but I should have seen it. I could just kick myself.”
Alistair shook his head and replied, “You can't blame yourself for this, Rafi. You've done more than anyone to help him. He'd be dead now if you hadn't rescued him. He'd already tried once; he'd have tried again. We will take care of him and you will love him and everything will work out. It will, Rafi.”
The teenager nodded silently and then, after a long and thoughtful moment, he released Alistair's hand and said, “I need to get back to him.”
He turned amidst wishes of good luck from the men and he returned to the bedroom.
Entering the room, he could hear Jeremy moaning softly in the dark. He approached and saw the boy's head turn one way and then the other. Quickly, Rafael undressed and crawled back into bed beside him, wrapped his arms around him, and whispered into his ear, “It's okay, Jeremy. It's okay. You're dreaming. You're having a bad dream. I'm here, Jeremy, and you're safe.”
Jeremy sniffed and whimpered, “Rafael.”
The older boy kissed Jeremy's cheek and said, “I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here.”
Jeremy moaned and whispered, “I'm sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. Everything's fine. Just relax and drift off to sleep and I will be here all night holding you and making sure you're all right. So, don't worry about a thing. Everything's just fine. I love you, Jeremy.”
The boy sniffed and snuggled into Rafael and the teenager felt his tears return as he tightly held the boy. Jeremy drifted off to sleep again, but Rafael could only lie there, holding the boy and gazing into his face with love and concern.
--o-0-o--
“Is Jeremy coming down for lunch?”
Rafael was walking across the veranda toward the patio when Teddy looked up from his sandwich and spoke. The teenager simply sighed and shrugged as he dropped into his chair. Alistair looked at him with concern and asked, “Has he said anything this morning, gotten out of bed, done anything?”
Rafael shook his head and replied, “He ate a piece of toast with butter for breakfast and drank a small glass of tomato juice. He likes tomato juice. After that he just lay back down under the covers. He's just staring out into space and won't talk. He doesn't even move when I speak to him. He just lies there like he can't hear anything.”
Conrad shook his head and said, “It's as if he's just given up.”
Rafael looked down and said, “He has. He thinks he's ruined everything and I just can't get him to see that he hasn't, that everyone still thinks he's a fantastic dancer and that he's going to do great at Ballet Academy. He's embarrassed and he thinks he's let everyone down and...”
Tears started flowing down his cheeks. Teddy leaned over and wrapped his arms around the teenager.
“It's going to work out, Rafi. It will just take time, but Jeremy will be all right.”
Rafael sniffed and asked, “Did you call Grayson Harrison?”
Teddy nodded and said, “He's flying up here this afternoon. He wants to see Jeremy for himself before we decide on notifying Jane McCoy. He thinks it might not be necessary and understands our reluctance.”
Rafael nodded despondently and looked around, asking, “Where is everybody?”
“Almost everyone has left,” Alistair replied. “It turned out to be not the most jovial weekend, so they've all gone home. Dylan is still here, of course. He's in the studio practicing. Perhaps, Jeremy might practice with you. Perhaps dancing would help him.”
“I don't know,” Rafael replied doubtfully. “I really think he's just given up. He's worked so hard all these years to make everyone proud and in that one incident last night, he thinks he's ruined everything and I can't get him to understand that he hasn't.”
“Don't say anything to Jeremy about Harrison coming up,” Teddy said. “We'll give him another pill and let him sleep.
“Why don't you swim for awhile with Dylan. You need to relax.”
Rafael shook his head and said, “I can't leave Jeremy alone. I want him to know that I'm there and that he's not alone.”
Rafael finished his small lunch and then returned upstairs. Jeremy was still lying on his side, gazing numbly at nothing. Rafael knelt down before him and as he caressed the boy's face, he whispered, “I'm back, sweetheart. It's time for another pill. Okay? Here it is and here's some water.”
Numbly, Jeremy opened his mouth and took the pill and when Rafael held the glass up to his lips, he swallowed and then lay his head back down. Rafael found the stuffed bear lying above the pillow and smiled as he picked it up and playfully brought it in front of Jeremy's face. Jeremy finally showed life as he reached out for it and held it tightly against his chest, clutching it desperately before he returned to his previous almost catatonic state. Rafael leaned over and kissed his forehead before climbing back into bed behind him and wrapping his arms around him.
--o-0-o--
It was mid-afternoon when Rafael ventured downstairs again. He could hear a piano and found Alistair and Jonathan in the lounge, Jonathan at the piano and Alistair standing thoughtfully beside him as the composer made notes on sheet music. Conrad was seated nearby, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Rafael stood in the doorway and asked, “Where's Teddy?”
“In my study,” Alistair replied. “He's working on the notes for a new book. At least, that was what he said. I have a feeling his pursuits are more liquid than literary.”
Rafael grimaced at the man and Alistair immediately looked down. “I'm sorry. I know this has been painful for everyone.”
“I've been thinking,” Conrad interjected. “It can't be good for Jeremy just to lie there and think. Why don't we go to the beach this afternoon. I know it sounds crazy, but he seemed so serene and happy there the other day and it might be a good way to get his mind working again on something other than the remorse and humiliation he must feel. Then, tonight Grayson Harrison can see him and help us decide on a course of action.
Alistair looked at Rafael with a raised eyebrow and asked, “What do you think, Rafi? Do you think he's even capable of going to the beach.”
“Maybe,” the teenager replied. “He's basically just a log right now, but I think we could get him into the car. It might be good to get him out of bed and out in the fresh air and sun.”
“I think that's a marvelous idea,” Alistair added with a smile. “Conrad, why don't you and Rafi go up and talk with him. Jonathan and I will get Teddy and Dylan ready.”
Conrad rose and walked toward Rafael. Leading him out the door and toward the atrium, he wrapped an arm around the teenager's shoulders and said, “I'm proud of the way you've taken care of Jeremy and loved him. You're a good person, Rafael. I have a lot of respect for you and I know this has been very painful for you.”
“This is the first time I've ever felt this way about anyone,” Rafael replied. “I mean, I love Alistair and I know I'm only fifteen and people think we don't feel things that deeply, but...I love Jeremy more than life. I would die for him.”
“I think you would,” Conrad said as they started up the stairs. “Jeremy's very fortunate to have you.”
“I don't know about that,” Rafael replied. “If I'd been paying closer attention, I could have seen this coming and I could have done something. I should have known. I should have known.”
“It's not your fault, Rafael,” Conrad said. “None of us saw it coming and there was no way for you to know how deep the pain was he was hiding inside.”
Making their way down the hallway, Rafael responded, “I knew. Madame Pulchova warned me last week. She said that Jeremy was motivated by shame about being a ballet dancer and that his motivation was to make his parents proud, that he had to be the best to justify his parents sacrifice.”
“What sacrifice?” Conrad asked contemptuously.
They stood outside the door to the bedroom as Rafael explained, “Their dream of Jeremy playing football at Vanderbilt like his dad had and of him becoming a lawyer and moving into the firm with his dad. That was their dream and it kills Jeremy to know he took that away from them. Now... he sees it was all a waste, that he's nothing but a failure.”
Conrad shook his head and replied, “That's too much for a twelve-year-old boy to bear.”
“Exactly,” Rafael replied.
He opened the door quietly and found Jeremy sitting up on the side of the bed, naked and staring off into space. He made no sign that he was aware of anyone entering the room. The two slowly approached him and Rafael said, “Hey, sweetheart. Conrad was thinking that maybe we could all go to the beach. That might help get your mind of everything and you can relax and maybe have some fun.”
Jeremy simply stared numbly ahead before lying back down and rolling onto his side with his back to the two. Rafael looked at the man, who nodded and sat down beside the younger boy. He placed a hand on Jeremy's bare shoulder and gently caressed it.
“Jeremy, I think you need to get out in the sun and the fresh air.”
Jeremy inhaled and in a dead voice, replied, “I can't face anyone. I...let everyone down. I failed. I failed.”
“You did nothing of the sort!” Conrad replied forcefully. “You're a gifted and inspirational dancer, Jeremy. There may be only three or four other twelve-year-old boys in America who can dance as well as you. You simply had a nervous incident caused by the stress and pressure you've been under. You're going to be just fine and no one, and I mean no one thinks you have let anyone down. We all love you, Jeremy. I love you, Jeremy.”
The boy held the cover over him and as Conrad tugged at it, the boy tightened his grip. The man refused to surrender, however. He reached over with his other hand and forced Jeremy's fingers to release the blanket and sheet and then he pulled them down, revealing Jeremy's body. He gently rolled the boy over and Jeremy seemed to give up. Conrad brought the boy to his feet as Rafael watched and Jeremy stood naked before him, his penis small and withdrawn. Rafael stepped to the dresser and pulled Jeremy's swimsuit out. He dropped to his knees before the boy, half expecting Jeremy's penis to rise to an erection, as it normally would with Rafael kneeling before him. However, it didn't. The teenager and the man pulled his swimsuit up and then Rafael brought a yellow Izod knit to the boy and pulled it over his torso. He slipped the boy's arms through the sleeves and then stood before him with a smile. Jeremy seemed completely unaware of what was happening. Conrad brought the boy's Topsiders over and knelt before him.
Jeremy didn't move. Conrad looked up to see a large rise in the front of his swimsuit at his eye level. He stared at it for a moment before looking up. Jeremy was looking down at the man with dead eyes. The man frowned and said, “Jeremy?”
The boy suddenly turned and climbed back into bed. He pulled the covers over and turned with his back to the others. Rafael leaned over and put his hand on Jeremy's shoulder, but the younger boy jerked away and whined, “Leave me alone! Go away. I don't want to go to the beach. Just leave me alone. Please.”
“Jeremy!” Rafael declared impatiently, “You can't just curl up in bed for the rest of your life! You have to get up and do something!”
“I want to go home,” the muffled voice declared from under the covers.”
Rafael sighed and said, “Alistair wants us to stay until at least Monday, when you've had a chance to see the psychiatrist.”
“No, I want to go home. I want to go back to Greensburg.”
“You can't go back to Greensburg,” Rafael replied, regaining his patience. “You're here and you just need to get used to Ballet Academy and everything's going to be okay.”
“No! No!” Jeremy screamed under the cover. “It will never be okay! Never! Ever!”
He threw his covers off his head and yelled, “Go away! Please! Please! I'm begging you! Please, just leave me alone!”
He covered himself up again and Rafael sighed heavily. He looked at Conrad, who pressed his lips tightly together and nodded. Slowly, the two rose to their feet and silently walked out the door. With the click of the door as he closed it, Rafael's strength seemed to give. He collapsed against Conrad and closed his eyes, his head lying on the powerful dancer's shoulder.
--o-0-o--
Grayson Harrison was stunned by the curly haired blond beauty who met him at the gate at JFK late Saturday afternoon. The tight tee-shirt the young man wore perfectly displayed his powerful arms as well as his pecs and abs. But, it was the blue eyes and the boyish smile that sealed the deal for the man. For the entire drive from JFK to the opposite end of Long Island, the man had sat in the back seat, his legs crossed and his hands folded politely in his lap as he gazed at the back of Geoffrey's head and tried to hide and pacify the raging erection in his slacks. God, he thought to himself at one point, I have to get out of Greensburg more often!
“So, Geoffrey,” the man asked as they sped east on Highway 27, “what exactly do you do for Mr. Mountjoy?”
“A lot of things,” the young man replied. “I drive him around, take care of errands for him, things like that. Then at night he fucks me silly.”
Harrison smiled at Geoffrey's delightful honesty as well as his perfect lack of pretension. “I'm Alistair's houseboy,” the young man added after a pause.
“Ah, I see. It must be quite exciting working for a legend like Alistair Mountjoy.”
“Oh, it is,” Geoffrey replied. “He's an amazing man and I worship him. But, I have to say that even Alistair is flummoxed by what's happened to Jeremy.”
“How's the little guy doing?” Harrison asked with concern.
“Scary,” Geoffrey replied. “He's just curled up in bed and won't come out. He eats a bowl of soup or a sandwich and then he just curls up and...thinks, I guess. I don't know. I do know that Rafael is beside himself and he's becoming as big a basket case as Jeremy.”
Yes,” Harrison replied in a sympathetic voice, “I can imagine. Rafael's always had volatile emotions. Did you see the...incident?”
“Oh, yes. Everything was going fine. Jeremy and Rafael were dancing beautifully and then, all of a sudden, Jeremy freaked out. It's like he wasn't there anymore, like he was someplace different and his parents were yelling at him and he was begging them to believe that he was a good dancer and a good boy. It was frightening.”
Harrison shook his head and said, “I should have seen this. I knew Jeremy was fragile. He's incredibly strong, in many ways, but he's been through so much that...I just hope I'm not too late.”
“I don't know,” Geoffrey replied. “It's like he's just given up. He thinks he's let everyone down and that there's no way to redeem himself. Alistair, Conrad Hartsfeld—this famous dancer with the company— Rafael and Teddy, everyone's tried to reach him and nothing works. He hasn't been out of the bed, except to go to the bathroom, since Friday night.”
“What specifically did he say during the incident?”
Geoffrey looked into the mirror and replied carefully, as if he were testifying, a reaction to which Harrison was familiar, even outside the courtroom, “I don't remember specifically, but it was something like, “I'm good, Mommy! I'm not wicked. I'm a good dancer. I'm a good boy. Tell her Daddy. Tell her I'm good! ”
Harrison frowned and looked out the window. Geoffrey added, “He was looking right at one of the guys in the audience when he lost it. It was like he was looking at Andy and seeing his mother.”
Harrison nodded and asked, “Did this Andy do or say anything that could have triggered Jeremy's words?”
Geoffrey thought for a moment and then replied, “He said, 'Wicked.' He was complimenting Jeremy's dancing, which for him was amazing.”
“Wicked?”
“It's a compliment,” Geoffrey explained. “People from Boston and that area say it a lot. Andy's one of the Daughertys. His dad is Bobby Daugherty, who's running for President in '72.”
“Ah. I see. So, Jeremy is from Greensburg and people in the south don't use 'wicked' as a complimentary term. Is it possible that he misunderstood the intent? Is he familiar with that use of 'wicked?'”
Geoffrey shrugged and responded, “Rafael uses it occasionally, but I get the impression that his mother's family is from Boston.”
“So, it's possible that Jeremy did understand that it was a compliment and not a disparaging term?”
“I don't know,” Geoffrey replied nervously.
“Forgive me if I seem to be cross-examining you,” Harrison said with a smile. “I tend to lapse into 'lawyer-mode' in even the most benign of circumstances. I just want to be certain that I understand Jeremy's state of mind at the time of the incident.”
“Mr. Harrison, if you can help the little guy, do whatever you can. Everyone has fallen in love with him. He's the sweetest kid in the world and...”
Geoffrey stopped, unable to continue. He sniffed and, embarrassed, changed the subject to the heavy, Saturday evening traffic as they escaped the city.
--o-0-o--
“Geoffrey called on the car phone,” Alistair announced to the gathering on the patio. “They're almost here.”
“We may not have time to wait until tomorrow,” Alistair replied. “Conrad thinks he's becoming more irrational. I think just lying there for hour after hour, with the squirrel cage in his head spinning, is what's taking him even deeper inside himself. ”
Dylan pointed to the balcony and said, “It looks like Jeremy's making an appearance.”
The others looked up to see the boy standing at the balustrade and staring off toward the garden. Rafael turned with alarm and said, “Watch him!”
Nervously, he jumped up and ran into the house.
“He's not going to jump,” Dylan said.
“It was Rafael who dragged him off the balustrade last night,” Alistair explained. “You can understand why he might be a bit skittish about Jeremy and balconies.”
“Alistair, should we take him to the hospital?” Dylan asked. “I mean, this seems pretty serious to me and I'm afraid this could get worse instead of better.”
Alistair nodded and said, “I agree that there is that danger, however I want to wait until Harrison has seen him. I trust Harrison. He strikes me as one who is genuinely concerned about Jeremy's welfare. After all, several million dollars ride on Jeremy's emotional and mental state.”
Teddy snorted and said, “It always comes down to money, doesn't it? The kid has a multi-million dollar trust fund and inheritance and that's what motivates the shark.”
Alistair shook his head and replied, “I don't get that impression from talking with Harrison. I think he's truly concerned about Jeremy. And, to be honest, how can anyone who knows Jeremy not be concerned. There's something about that boy that just...”
He turned his head, afraid of showing too much emotion even to those closest to him.
Dylan watched the balcony as Rafael appeared and put his arms around Jeremy's shoulders. The younger boy appeared not to react. Rafael simply held him.
A housekeeper appeared at the French door and announced, “Mr. Mountjoy, Geoffrey's arrived with your guest.”
Alistair nodded and said, “Shall we gather in the study while I greet our guest?”
--o-0-o--
Jeremy sat in a chair on the balcony and watched a seagull circling lazily above the house. The warm August sun was getting close to the western horizon and he closed his eyes, imagining himself back in Greensburg, sitting on a bench along the west bank of the Magnolia River, holding his Boy Scout knife. Yeah. That was answer. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't do it here. It would be too much for Alistair and Teddy and...Rafael. Rafael. Oh, God. Rafael.
The only factor that had prevented him from doing it that weekend was the pain it would cause Rafael. Beautiful, sweet, wonderful Rafael. Eternity without Rafael. Could he face it? If anything could stop him from carrying out his plan, it would be Rafael and the knowledge of what it would do to him. And, Jeremy knew he had already caused the boy who loved him more anguish than he could ever be forgiven.
The boy lowered his head in his own anguish. How could he have allowed himself to let down so many people, to fail so miserably, to let down his parents, his parents! He missed them so much at that moment. He needed, he needed to feel them hug him and tell him they loved him, yet he was alone. He could never feel right again without his parents’ approval and love, and yet he knew that was impossible; it could never happen. No, he was alone. He would always be alone.
No he wasn't. He heard the door of the bedroom open. Someone was approaching. Oh, God. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?
Rafael knelt beside the boy and kissed his forehead.
“Jeremy, there's someone here to see you. We need you to come down to the study. Okay?”
Jeremy didn't respond beyond turning his head away. He had already caused Rafael and everyone else too much trouble. They should just let him go, leave him alone, and go back to their happy, successful lives. They should just forget about him.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Rafael urged. He slipped his hands under Jeremy's arm and lifted him up. The boy sighed and let Rafael have his way. Numbly he followed Rafael into the room and toward the door as Rafael said, “We have a surprise for you. Something wonderful, Jeremy. It's going to make you see... Well, I can't say anything. They made me promise not to say anything, but Jeremy...it's wonderful.”
The boy sighed as they passed through the door and into the hallway. God, why couldn't they just let him alone, let him sit on the balcony and try to forget what he had done, what an utter and complete failure he was?
They walked down the hallway and Rafael began to pull him. “Oh, sweetheart, hurry. You've got to hear this. You just have to.”
Jeremy sighed heavily and walked faster, though the effort was painful. Walking down the stairs to the atrium, he could hear voices. They sounded excited, happy, even joyous. What in the world could be happening that would be happy and joyous? Didn't they understand the agony he was in? Didn't they comprehend the way he had completely failed and let them down, the way he had betrayed his parents?
He wanted to collapse to the floor beside the koi pool, but with superhuman effort, he allowed Rafael to lead him to the study.
He froze when he entered and saw Grayson Harrison sitting in a chair near the reel-to-reel tape player mounted in the wall. Alistair, Conrad, Teddy, and Dylan were seated around the room. Teddy was crying and Conrad was smiling at the boy.
“M-M-Mr. Harrison,” Jeremy stuttered. “W-w-hat are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, Jeremy,” the man replied kindly as he stood. “Teddy and Alistair called me and we've discussed your situation. It's pained me deeply to know how you've been hurting, Jeremy. They've discussed what happened and...”
“Oh, God!” Jeremy cried. “Aunt Jane doesn't know, does she? You didn't tell Aunt Jane? Or Benji? Please! Please! Don't tell Aunt Jane or Benji! Or Brian! Oh, God, I couldn't stand it if Brian knew! Please!”
Rafael wrapped his arms around the boy and hugged tightly, interrupting him and explaining, “They don't know, Jeremy. We're the only ones who know. It's okay, but you've got to listen to what Grayson has to say. It's wonderful and it's going to turn everything around!”
“Rafael,” Alistair said kindly. He stood and walked over to Jeremy, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders and explaining, “We called Grayson to see what responsibilities we had about notifying your aunt about what had happened and he told us that we didn't have to do that just yet and that he had something that could help you see things in a new light. Why don't you come over here and have a seat between the speakers.”
Jeremy numbly followed the man to the empty chair. He reached out and shook. Harrison's hand before sitting down. Harrison smiled and said, “It's such a joy to be able to give you this gift, Jeremy. You've given all of us quite a scare, young man, but I think now that we can put all this behind us.”
Jeremy sighed. Was this all it was? The executor of his parents' estate giving him a pep talk? Why would they think Mr. Harrison was important enough to make Jeremy stop hurting?
“Let me explain, Jeremy,” the attorney said, seemingly reading the boy's thoughts. “Your father came to our law firm to execute his will rather than using his own firm so as to avoid any conflicts of interest. And about a week before the accident, he came to me to make a change in the will. He loved you, Jeremy. He loved you very much. Both of your parents did.”
Jeremy's eyes grew moist, but he fought the urge to cry again. He had already cried so much that he couldn't imagine he still had any tears left.
“Jeremy, when making changes to a will, it is the practice of our law firm to tape record the interview so that if there are any challenges, the intentions of the testator can be made known.”
The boy froze.
Harrison met and locked onto Jeremy’s eyes. “I interviewed your father that morning. I tape recorded our conversation. What you are about to hear is your father explaining the changes he wanted to make in his will and why he wanted to make those changes. You deserve to hear this, Jeremy, and I hope it will make clear to you how deeply your parents loved you and how proud they were of you.”
Jeremy trembled as he whispered, “My...father?”
Harrison nodded and asked, “And your mother. Are you ready?”
Jeremy swallowed and with the briefest of nods, whispered, “Yes.”
Harrison smiled as Teddy blew his nose and Alistair reached over and pushed a button on the tape player.
After a couple of seconds, the lawyer's voice could be heard on the tape.
“Interview with Grant. W. Fenwick regarding the last will and testament of Grant W. and Charlotte J. Fenwick, Friday May 15, 1970 at ten-oh-eight Central Daylight Time in room 1218 of the firm of McDonald, Breckenridge, Harrison, and Fowler, 401 S. Fourth Street, Greensburg, XX 3X104. I am Grayson M. Harrison, partner in the firm of McDonald, Breckenridge, Harrison, and Fowler. Would you state your name please, your date of birth and your place of residence?”
Jeremy gasped as he heard his father's voice, strong, commanding, yet compassionate, reply, “I'm Grant William Fenwick, of 1415 Somerset Drive, Greensburg, XX 3X107. I was born on October 17, 1929.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fenwick. You are requesting to make a change to your last will and testament filed June 24, 1966. Is that correct?”
“It is.”
Jeremy's hand slowly rose to his mouth as his lips trembled. Silently, he mouthed the word, “Daddy.”
“And what is the change?” Mr. Harrison could be heard to ask.
“I want to make certain that if anything should happen to Charlotte and me, Jeremy will be able to continue his ballet training. I know that trust funds have been established for him and his older brother, but I want something specific to fund his training should I or his mother or both pre-decease him.”
“And, why is that?”
Grant Fenwick could be heard on the tape taking a deep breath before he replied, “Because Jeremy is the most amazing dancer I have ever seen and it would be criminal if he were forced to give up his training for any reason. My son is gifted and I know that he has the talent, the potential, and the motivation to achieve anything he wants. To be the greatest ballet dancer in the world is his ambition and dream and I intend to ensure that he has every opportunity to achieve that dream.”
Jeremy's lips parted as he stared at the tape player.
“I want to set aside a certain amount in a separate fund to pay for his training at any school to which he can be admitted. Right now, it would appear that he'll be training at Ballet Academy of America. He's been accepted to their Summer Program and I have absolutely no doubt he will be accepted to train full time with them. Jeremy is an amazing and talented dancer.”
“Yes, he is,” Harrison could be heard to reply. “I've seen him in Peter Pan and The Nutcracker. He's truly gifted.”
“He is and I don't think he realizes just how proud of him his mother and I are. Jeremy has put his heart and soul into being a brilliant dancer and I couldn't be prouder of him.”
Jeremy was staring at the tape player in shock, his mouth open, tears flowing down his cheeks. Teddy was openly sobbing with emotion. Rafael wrapped his arms around Jeremy, sniffing and holding his own sobs inside.
“Grant, I have to ask these next questions so that there is no confusion about your feelings and intentions in the event that anyone should, for any reason, challenge these changes or your intentions in making these changes.”
“I understand completely.”
“Grant, is Jeremy a homosexual?”
Everyone in the room gasped at the question, including Jeremy, who almost choked.
“I don't know,” Grant replied firmly, “and frankly, Scarlet, I don't give a damn.”
Conrad chuckled and Alistair smiled as Jeremy stared at the tape player.
“Do you fear that ballet training may cause Jeremy to become homosexual or expose him to influences that some may consider unhealthy or inappropriate?”
“I do not believe ballet training will turn my son into a homosexual. Will he be exposed to dangerous influences? Probably, but he'll be exposed to dangerous influences no matter what field he enters or whatever kind of training he pursues. You and I both know what kind of hazing athletes face, in particular football players. Which is worse? Who knows? What I do know is my son. I know Jeremy is a strong and decent boy. I suspect he is probably going to be homosexual, if he isn't already. I assume he was born with those tendencies. Am I disappointed? Yes. I admit it. I love my son and I would die for him. Do I fear what he might face from society because of his homosexuality? Yes. Do I want him to live a normal life, marry, have kids, take over my law practice? Of course I do. What father wouldn't?”
Jeremy cried out, but Rafael hugged him and said, “Listen to him, Jeremy.”
“However, I know what kind of soul, what kind of character Jeremy has. As I said, I would give my life for him. I want him to be happy. I admit that like most men, I was disgusted and revolted by the thought of homosexuality, but when you see your son may be that way, it forces a father to think, to consider the reasons, to make an effort to understand. No one turned Jeremy the way he is, if he is that way. It wasn't the devil, as Charlotte's idiot brother-in-law would probably say. This is just the way things turned out. This is just the way Jeremy is. I accept that. I love him and I accept it. I don't understand it. We all know that boys go through a stage, but if this is more than a stage I accept it. We both do. So, if anyone should challenge this particular change in the will on the grounds of Jeremy's supposed immorality, let them know that I understand full well that Jeremy may be homosexual, though he might not. It's irrelevant. I want him to be happy. I want him to pursue his dream and if that is to be a ballet dancer, then so be it. Would I prefer he was playing football? Sure. Wouldn’t most fathers? But, this is his dream. If he wasn't as good as he is or if this was just some passing fancy, I would never have permitted it, but Jeremy is both gifted and driven. I know very little about ballet, but I can tell you that he's got it. He's amazing and he will continue his training, no matter what. I want to ensure that he has the opportunity. I want Jeremy to achieve his dream. Charlotte does, too. Oh, Grayson, you should have seen his mother's tears of joy as we watched him in Nutcracker. She is so proud of him.”
Grayson pushed the button and said, “The rest of this is simply the legal discussion of how to set up the fund and how much, but this was the part I wanted you to hear, Jeremy.”
Jeremy's entire body was trembling.
“Jeremy, we weren't able to get this incorporated into the will before the accident, so I couldn't use this as evidence to force your uncle to let you continue your training. But, when Teddy called and told me what had happened and what you've been feeling, I knew you had to hear this. I made a copy on this cassette for you to keep.”
He handed the cassette to Jeremy, who grasped it with shaking hands.
“Jeremy, your parents were very proud of you. They weren't ashamed of you in any way and they wanted you to be as good a dancer as you want to be. They wanted you to be happy, Jeremy. They loved you. You aren't wicked, Jeremy. You're a good boy, a gifted boy, a glorious boy, Jeremy.”
Jeremy looked at him with tear-filled eyes and the lawyer touched the boy's face gently with the tips of his fingers, adding, “Son, your parents wanted you to fulfill your dreams because they are your dreams. They wanted you to fulfill your destiny, whether that was dancing, designing skyscrapers, or running a chain of hot dog stands because they're your dreams and they're what you want. Their love for you wasn't based on you fulfilling their hopes and dreams beyond you pursuing your dream. They loved you unconditionally. I wish my own parents had been as understanding as yours. You're a very fortunate boy, Jeremy. You had very special parents who loved you and wanted you to be happy and to fulfill your potential and achieve your dreams, Jeremy. Your dreams, Jeremy. Your dreams.”
Jeremy lost all control of his emotions at that moment. He turned, desperately grasped Rafael and gave vent to his love for his parents, his grief at their loss, his relief, his joy, his love. Conrad and Alistair knelt before him. Teddy stood behind him. Dylan leaned on Rafael and kissed the top of Jeremy's head.
Jeremy Fenwick now knew the truth.
--o-0-o--
Jeremy Fenwick leapt through the air with grace and ease and landed perfectly before performing a series of tours chaînés déboulés, turns on alternating feet as he crossed the stage until he came to the center and threw one arm triumphantly into the air, curving the other down toward his hip, and turning his feet out, one before the other. The audience, all seated in the first few rows of the Schuyler Theater at Ballet Center applauded loudly, many rising to their feet as he stood on the stage he had dreamt of performing on for years. He felt such joy that he could have danced again and again without batting an eye. He was on the stage of the Schuyler Theater! At Ballet Center! Standing where Alistair Mountjoy had stood when receiving his ovation for Ode to Life. Jeremy Fenwick had arrived.
Slowly, Jeremy gracefully bowed, and turned to walk across the stage, with a quick glance out the corner of his eye at the table in the orchestra in front of the first row, where sat three judges and the Artistic Director of the Ballet of America. Alistair gave him a wink and a smile and Jeremy returned it. He walked toward Rafael standing in the wings, awaiting him.
“Jeremy! You were fantastic!” the teenager cried as the boy ran into his arms. Several other dancers stood nearby, shaking arms and legs or stretching as they awaited their turns to walk out on stage.
Jeremy simply grinned and nodded before he replied, “Yes, I was.”
Rafael laughed and lightly bopped the boy on the head. Then they kissed and held each other tightly before a prim-looking woman in a severe suit approached with a clipboard.
“Mr. Fenwick, please proceed to the dressing room. You may change into your street clothes and then report to the table outside the door at the end of the hallway, please.”
“Yes, ma'am,” the boy replied politely and confidently. He took Rafael's hand and strode confidently, even authoritatively, toward the back and to the men's dressing room. Rafael kept glancing over at him with pride as they walked and when they arrived in the crowded room, with other boys either putting on or taking off their tights and other accoutrements, Jeremy finally relaxed. Other boys watched as Jeremy smiled at Rafael and pulled his face down. Boldly, in front of everyone in the room, Jeremy kissed him for several seconds and then declared in a strong and confident voice, “I love you, Rafael.”
“I love you, Jeremy,” Rafael replied with a knowing grin.
Behind them, they could both hear a twelve-year-old boy exclaim in a stage whisper, “That's Rafael Colón! They just kissed. Right there in front of everybody!”
Rafael grinned at the boy and said, “Yes, we did, and we went through a lot to have the chance to do that.”
Jeremy smiled at the boy, a slim youth with jet black hair, pale skin, and the bluest of eyes. He extended his hand and said, “I'm Jeremy Fenwick. From Greensburg.”
“Tim Hanson. From the City,” the boy replied. “So, are you and Rafael... you know... like...”
“Boyfriends?” Jeremy finished the question for him.
Tim nodded and Jeremy declared, “Yes. Rafael is my boyfriend. I live with him and I love him. He's the best dancer in Ballet Academy and the most beautiful. Don't you think?”
“He is beautiful,” Tim replied with a blush.
Rafael grinned and said, “I'll be down the hall. Go shower and change and we'll meet Conrad and Teddy.”
Jeremy nodded and watched as Rafael gracefully walked out one of the doors. He turned and smiled as he saw the rise in the front of Tim's tights.
“He has that effect on me, too,” Jeremy said with a giggle.
Tim blushed and smiled before he asked, “So, are you two...you know...gay?”
Jeremy nodded and said proudly, “Yes, we are.”
“I, um, well...” Tim stammered. “I am, too.”
“Cool!” Jeremy replied. “A lot of guys here are. You won't be alone and you don't have to pretend anymore. It's all cool here.”
“Really?” Tim asked as he looked at Jeremy with surprise.
The boy nodded and said, “This is the greatest place in the world. You're going to love it here.”
“If I get in,” Tim replied. “I didn't get into SAB and I'm scared I won't make it here.”
Jeremy put an arm around the boy and asked, “Have you danced yet?”
The boy shook his head and Jeremy said, “Alistair Mountjoy is one of the judges, but don't let that scare you. He wants more boys in the school, though they have to be good. Don't be scared. Just imagine Alistair hugging you when its all over. He's not the scary and intimidating man everyone thinks he is. We all love him. He's wonderful and supportive and encouraging and all you have to do is dance your best for him. Don't be scared or nervous. They don’t expect you to be perfect. They’re looking for potential.”
“Timothy Hanson!” the woman with the clipboard announced as she entered the room.
“That's me,” the boy said with a shaky voice.
Jeremy leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Merde.”
The boy grinned and whispered, “Merde to you, too!”
Tim hurried out the door as Jeremy watched his cute butt and felt a surge in his tights. He already felt like a veteran in front of the other boys in the dressing room, but he paused and remembered his first week in New York, the two months prior to his arrival in New York, and the tape recording of his father expressing his thoughts about Jeremy and his dreams. It would have been all too easy for that day to have never happened. With gratitude and love, he walked to his locker and began to undress.
--o-0-o--
Conrad, Teddy and Rafael stood in the west aisle of the giant auditorium discussing where to eat dinner as Jeremy gazed about the historic hall, admiring the elegant carving and painting of the proscenium and imagining all the seats occupied on an opening night, the conversations of the audience members, the sounds of the orchestra warming up, the ushers rushing about. He looked at the wings and imagined the dancers preparing to appear on stage. He imagined Alistair moving from dancer to dancer, giving each a pep talk, hugging them, letting them know how proud he was of them. Someday, he would be one of those dancers. He knew it now. It wasn't just a dream.
Alistair was conversing with the other judges. Parents and their dancing offspring milled about, waiting for their official notifications. Jeremy watched him nod and then look at them. He smiled and waved and Jeremy waved back.
“I think they're done,” the boy declared.
Rafael turned and watched Alistair make his way up the aisle toward them. Teddy grinned as he saw the smiling face and said, “I think you were accepted, Jeremy.”
“You think?” Rafael replied with a grin. “After that performance... man, Jerm, I really think you did better than I did.”
Jeremy shrugged and Teddy smiled at him.
“What happened to the shy, modest boy who was always denying that he was any good?”
Jeremy smiled and replied, “I realized how good I really am...and how many people love me.”
Rafael turned and kissed Jeremy's forehead before Alistair walked up and declared, “Jeremy, you earned the second highest score ever in an audition for Ballet Academy.”
Jeremy looked at him with shock as Rafael exclaimed, “Are you serious?”
Alistair nodded and said, “On the scale we use, with three hundred being perfect, you earned two-hundred-ninety-one, one point below the all-time highest.”
Rafael grinned and asked, “You know who won two-hundred-ninety-two?”
“You?” Jeremy asked.
Rafael shook his head and said, “You beat me, Jeremy, by two points. I got two-hundred-eighty-nine. Conrad's got the record for the highest audition score ever and you almost beat him.”
“I beat you?” Jeremy exclaimed with dismay.
“Yes, you did,” Rafael replied. “And, you deserved it. All that work you did paid off.”
Alistair extended his hand and said, “Jeremy, you were magnificent. Absolutely magnificent and that performance this afternoon is only going to be the first of many on that stage. May I be the first to officially welcome you, Jeremy David Fenwick, to Ballet Academy of America.”
Standing erect and proud, Jeremy shook Alistair's hand and replied, “Thank you, Alistair. Thank you for...everything.”
The boy's voice quivered slightly and then he recovered and looked at Teddy and said, “And, thank you, Teddy, for everything.”
“Little One,” Teddy said softly as he hugged Jeremy.
Jeremy looked to the side when he heard cheering and crying about the auditorium as the other applicants were notified of the results of their auditions. Jeremy saw Tim Hanson jumping up and down as his mother tried to hug him. Their eyes met and Jeremy grinned at him as Tim waved back happily.
“So, where are we going for dinner?” Rafael asked.
“I have reservations at this nice little Italian place off Broadway,” Alistair replied. “I haven't been there in twenty years, but I thought it might be a nice place to celebrate Jeremy's audition and acceptance.”
Jeremy glanced up at Teddy, who smiled at Alistair and nodded. “I think that would be a wonderful place to eat” he replied. “Just as long as there's no Samuel Barber afterward.”
Alistair nodded and smiled, responding, “If there are any tears tonight, they will joyous and not sad.”
Jeremy grinned at Rafael and leaned up to kiss him.
“Je-re-my!” the teenager exclaimed as he pulled away.
“What? I can't kiss you in the middle of the Schuyler Theater?” the boy demanded with a grin.
“Someone might see us,” Rafael replied with a grin.
“I don't care anymore,” Jeremy replied. “I am who I am and I don't have to feel ashamed anymore.”
Alistair placed a hand on Jeremy's shoulder and said, “I'm so proud of you, Jeremy.”
“I am, too,” Teddy added.
Rafael grinned and nodded.
“Kiss me, you beast,” he cried and Jeremy grinned. The boys shared a long, loving kiss in front of everyone in the theater.
“Now, let's eat!” Jeremy declared. “Then we can celebrate tonight.”
“Just don't celebrate too late,” Alistair warned, leading the group up the aisle. “The two of you have class at seven-thirty in the morning at the Manhattan School for Student Professionals and new student orientation at Ballet Academy is at two in the afternoon. You get to listen to me inspire the next generation of dancers.”
“I'll try not to fall asleep,” Jeremy replied.
Alistair swatted Jeremy's butt and the boy yelped and grinned. The man swatted Rafael as well and the teenager howled in protest, “What did I do?”
“It's for whatever you were thinking!” Alistair replied.
“I was thinking that I'm the luckiest guy in the world,” Rafael declared, wrapping an arm around Jeremy's shoulder.
“No, I'm the luckiest,” Jeremy replied. “I had parents who loved me and gave me the chance to be me, I have friends here in New York who weren't willing to let me ruin my life, I have a boyfriend who I love more than anything and I'm training at the best ballet school ever and...”
He stopped and Rafael turned around. Jeremy smiled at him and said, “I'm a dancer because of you, Rafael. I'm alive because of you. I'm happy because of you. I owe you everything, Rafael. I love you.”
Rafael's eyes misted and Jeremy added, “Someday, I'm going to create a dance to tell our story.”
“You can call it the Dance of the Wicked Boys,” Rafael replied with a grin, “except with 'wicked' in the positive sense.”
“The Dance of the Wicked Boys,” Jeremy repeated thoughtfully. “I like it.”
Teddy sighed happily and softly whispered to himself, “And they all lived happily ever after.”
The End of Act Two
Thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it and I would be grateful if you would let me know by writing to me at:
frthnkr1957nifty gmail com
And, thank you to all you have written already and sent such kind words. Your support is very gratifying.