This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention. Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story. You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization.
This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage males. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you find this type of material offensive or if you are under the legal age to read said material; please proceed no further.
Comments are always welcome at: hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com
The Peace Within
Chapter 6
I was back at Shelton High School, walking down the hall, like it was a normal school day. I had my backpack over my shoulder and I walked through the halls, completely oblivious to the fact that my fellow students were running in the opposite direction. Some of them appeared to be screaming, I couldn't hear them and I just continued moving forward, like nothing was happening.
I walked into the library, there was smoke, some tables were overturned and the fire alarm wouldn't stop screeching. I stepped over a few bodies but that didn't seem to faze me. I found a table that wasn't turned over, a girl was sitting there with her head down, blood on her face and her eyes wide open. I pulled out my history book and started leafing through it, while humming Beethoven's Fur Elise.
"Parker help me," called Patton's voice.
"Patton, I'm busy," I replied, not looking up from my book.
"Parker please!" he exclaimed.
I slammed my book shut and stood.
"Fine, what is it now?" I fumed, then I saw him lying on his back, his chest erupting blood.
"Patton, w-what happened, what's going on?" I asked.
I was kneeling beside him and I finally became aware of the carnage around me. I held Patton's hand and looked around in horror, while he gurgled his last breath. I turned, when someone tapped my shoulder.
"Think we'd forget about you?" smiled Derek Carter, then he raised his gun to my face and there was a flash from the muzzle.
"NO!" I shouted, then opened my eyes.
I woke up in bed, in the fetal position, wrapped around my body pillow. I was drenched in sweat, my hair was matted to my forehead and I was panting for breath.
"God damn it," I swore to myself, then reached for the bottle on my nightstand.
I popped two Xanax then lie on my back and took deep breaths, giving the pills time to kick in. The dreams started the night of Patton's funeral, I have them almost every night now. In the days that have passed, I've started to manifest the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, that's my own diagnosis, considering I didn't think Dr. Ford had anything worthwhile to say at her grief seminar. I was having flashbacks of the event, it happened nearly every time I tried to sleep, with those damn nightmares. I felt withdrawn from my family, I wanted to put distance between myself and my friends, I wasn't interested in any of my books, hadn't given a second thought to soccer and damn near everything seemed to make me jumpy.
There were other things as well, but you get the idea. Three days after the funeral, dad invited a friend of his over and asked him to have a talk with me. Dr. Clark was a child psychiatrist who had the office suite across from dads, he was supposed to be good but I wasn't interested in talking to him or answering his questions. At the end of our session, I hadn't said much but he'd been taking notes on my behavior. Before he left, he handed dad a slip of paper, that's where the prescription for Xanax came from.
The pills helped take the edge off but they also seemed to dull my senses. I caught myself spending hours just staring out the window and that was a little disconcerting. I'd always considered myself high functioning, intelligent and coordinated, now I felt like I was falling apart, only I was too afraid to tell anyone. I also felt like this was my punishment, I'd gotten Patton killed and that couldn't stand, I had to pay a price.
A week after the service, school was still closed for me but Patrick had to go back to class, mom and dad had to go back to work. Whitney and Jeff were gone too, back to the city and their normal lives. Normal, for everyone else life moved forward but I seemed stuck on that day, the terrible day. I sat in the house alone, watching the news and taking in everything about the shooting, which was still the top story.
A big memorial service was planned for Friday, it had taken a couple of weeks to organize because it was going to be a major event. It would be held in New Haven, on the Yale campus, because there wasn't anywhere big enough in Wallingford. The Governor of Connecticut was going to be there, along with the Vice President of the United States and the leading lights of our society. I knew I had to be there, this was a service for all the victims and I had to be there because if it was me that had died, like I should have, Patton would have gone.
My parents were a little nervous about it, they didn't think it would be good for me, considering how I'd been acting. I hadn't asked for much, this was important to me and when I begged, they agreed to take me. Mom teaches at Yale and she canceled her morning classes so that she could drive me to New Haven for the afternoon service. When the day came, I started to have cold feet, I got up and got dressed ok, but when it was time to leave, I hesitated. I hadn't been outside in over a week and it was scary out there, the world was a dangerous place, my brother was murdered for God's sake!
"Parker, this is up to you, we don't have to go," said mom.
"I know," I replied, I was pacing back and forth through the foyer and nibbling on my thumb nail.
"If we are going to go, we need to leave soon," said mom, checking her watch.
"I know damn it," I swore, then felt bad for shouting, "sorry."
"It's ok," said mom, flashing me a reassuring smile, "why don't you wear Patton's coat, maybe you'll feel better."
"I don't know, I don't want it to get...wait a minute, you know?" I asked.
"I took it out of the paper it was wrapped in before dropping it off at Sanderson's," mom explained.
"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked.
"Because if anyone was entitled to have it, it's you and I didn't think Patton would mind being buried in yours," said mom.
"Thanks," I sniffled, that jacket meant a lot to me, I clung to it most nights, when I woke up from my nightmares.
"Is it in your closet?" asked mom.
"Under my pillow," I practically whispered.
"I'll be right back," said mom.
She went upstairs and came back down a few minutes later, carrying Patton's black and blue jacket. It had become my security blanket and when I put it on, I did feel better, it comforted me.
"Ok?" asked mom.
"Yeah, let's go," I nodded.
Mom tried talking to me in the car, but I didn't say much. It's not that I was trying to mope, it's just that her driving scares the hell out of me. I haven't had many rides in her Porsche and now I remember why, she's a maniac! It makes me smile though, back when mom had the Volvo, she drove like such a grandma, I guess the 911 brought out her inner demon and it has a lead foot. At least the drive to New Haven was quick, the traffic was worse once we got near the campus but we didn't have any trouble parking, thanks to mom's faculty pass.
We didn't run into any problems until we got to the venue. The service was being held in Woolsey Hall, which is a huge auditorium with seating for over 2,500 people, the only problem was, 10,000 showed up for the event. Shelton students and faculty had first priority but the Secret Service further complicated things by sealing off most of the entrances and forcing everyone to go through their portable metal detectors, all because the Vice President would be speaking. Fortunately, we were early, despite our late start from Wallingford. Mom and I stood in the line that wrapped around the building and watched them set up jumbo screens for the overflow crowd outside.
The rain started with just a few sprinkles but the momentum kept building and before long, it was coming down nice and steady. My hair was quickly plastered to my forehead and I could feel water starting to permeate the heavy wool of Patton's coat.
"Honey, I'm going to run to the car and grab an umbrella before we're soaked through, will you be ok?" asked mom, at least she'd been smart enough to wear a raincoat.
"Yeah mom, I'll be alright," I nodded.
She looked at me as though she didn't want to leave, but there was a roll of thunder and that prompted her to head towards the car. I was ok at first but the rain kept getting worse, and people around me were getting upset. They started to groan and complain and it just made me nervous, I felt myself shaking and I knew it wasn't from the cold. When the pressure got to great, I left the line and started to wander. I was hugging myself and starting to breath heavy, when I found my salvation just across State Street.
The Olde School Saloon and Bistro had a piano sitting in their front window. I crossed the street without looking, flinching every time someone honked or shouted.
"Welcome to the Olde School Saloon and Bistro, table for one?" asked the smiling hostess, when I walked in.
I walked right past her and got under the piano, where I hugged my knees and started to rock back and forth. I heard people murmuring and then the manager stuck his head under the piano.
"Hey kid, you wanna come out of there?" he asked, brusquely.
I didn't answer, I put my hands over my ears, closed my eyes and rocked back and forth.
"Come on kid, beat it or I'm calling the cops," said the manager.
"Dave, can't you see he's upset?" said the hostess.
"Yeah, but I can't have him just sitting under there, the customer's..." Dave began.
"Look at his jacket, he probably came from the memorial across the street," said the hostess, "Honey, do you go to Shelton High?"
I dropped my hands from my ears and opened my eyes, I looked at her but didn't say anything, I just kept rocking.
"Is everything alright?" asked and elderly patron.
"Everything's fine, the boy's just upset, why don't you go back and enjoy your lunch?" Dave suggested.
"I think he goes to Shelton High," said the hostess.
"For heaven's sake," said the old woman, then she stuck her head under the piano, "Sweetheart, are you ok?"
When I didn't answer her, she crawled under the piano with me and moved to put her arm around my shoulder. I flinched at first but her touch was soft and gentle, so I let her hold me.
Mom came back to the line outside Woolsey Hall and couldn't find me. She looked all around the area, and showed my picture to a Secret Service Agent. He hadn't seen me but he broadcast my description over his radio, a sniper on top of the News 8 building had seen me crossing the street, all the honking had drawn his attention. The agent told mom I'd been spotted wandering along State Street so she headed there. Dave the restaurant manager spotted her through the window, the frantic pace at which she walked up and down the street, suggested she was looking for something.
"Ma'am, are you looking for someone?" asked Dave, sticking his head out the door.
"Yes!" Mom exclaimed, and pulled my picture out of her purse, "have you seen this boy?"
"Come on in," said Dave.
Mom breathed a sigh of relief and followed him inside.
"Right over here," said Dave leading her to the piano, "he walked in and climbed under there, we weren't sure what to do."
Mom got down on her knees and found me with the elderly customer, she was still holding me and trying to calm me down. When I saw my mom, I put my arms out and she crawled over to me, I put my arms around her neck and hid my face against her shoulder.
"It's alright, it's alright," said mom.
She held me there for a minute and the shaking stopped, I felt myself gaining control over my body. Mom sensed it too, I'd been shaking so violently when she hugged me that she couldn't help but notice.
"Ready to come out now?" asked mom.
I nodded my head, but it was hard to get out, I wouldn't let her go. When we finally stood up, I clung to mom.
"I'm sorry for any trouble we may have caused," said mom.
"Is he ok?" asked Dave.
"He'll be fine," said mom, "his brother, he..."
"Oh my God, at Shelton?" asked the hostess.
"Yes," mom nodded, I held her tighter.
"I-I'm so sorry," said Dave, the hostess was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
"God bless you Patton," said the old woman.
"Did he tell you that was his name?" asked mom, rounding on the woman.
"He didn't say anything dear," said the woman, "I read it on his coat."
"His names Parker," said mom.
It wasn't a hard puzzle to figure out, the old woman knew whose coat I was wearing. She put her hand on my shoulder, then kissed me on the cheek. Mom smiled at the woman, thanked everyone again, then took me outside. It was still raining but I felt safe with my mom and let the water pelt my face, until she brought up her umbrella.
"I'm sorry mom," I croaked.
"It's ok Parker, what happened?"
"When you left, it started raining harder and people were getting upset and I don't know, I just got scared," I explained.
"That's ok," said mom.
"No it's not," I whined, she just held me a little tighter.
"Do you want to go home?" asked mom.
"Can we walk a little?" I replied.
"Sure," mom smiled.
I was grateful for that, my heart was still beating fast and I wasn't ready for another exercise in death defiance with mom behind the wheel of her Porsche. I've always known my parents were smart people, my dad's an MD and my mom's a PhD, but I didn't fully appreciate it until that walk. Mom didn't pelt me with questions, she and dad were well aware of what was happening to me, they just weren't sure what to do to help, or maybe they were hoping I'd snap out of it.
I started to unclench as we crossed New Haven Green and by the time we got to Old Campus Courtyard, I was breathing easier. Mom's office is in Dwight Hall, she asked me if it would be ok if we stopped so she could check her messages and email while we were there, and I was cool with that. I was feeling better and I didn't mind waiting, after all, I'd been a handful that afternoon, I couldn't begrudge mom a few minutes behind her desk to get her bearings. We weren't sitting there long, when there was a knock at the door.
"I'm sorry sweetheart, I normally have office hours now, I should have told Nancy not to send anyone back, do you mind?" asked mom.
"No, I'm ok," I replied.
"Come in," said mom.
"Hi Dr. Westergaard. Oh, hi," he said, when he saw me in the chair across from her desk, "am I interrupting?"
He was average height, reddish brown hair with green eyes. He wore wire rimmed glasses, like mine, and I couldn't help but think I'd seen him somewhere, he was so familiar.
"It's alright, Peter, this is my son, Parker," said mom.
"Cool," smiled Peter, as he shook my hand.
"I thought you'd be with your parents," said Mom.
"I went to the memorial with them but they had to head back to Washington as soon as it was over," the boy explained.
"That's too bad," said mom.
"Yeah, oh well, maybe next time," Peter smiled, then he turned to me, "So did you come to the office with your mom to check out the campus?"
"We were going to the memorial," I explained.
"Oh, of course," said Peter, I think he noticed the S on my jacket and put two and two together, "It's so awful what happened, you weren't in the building, were you?"
I couldn't answer his question, I couldn't look in his eyes, his or anyone else's. I was sure they'd see through me.
"Parker's twin brother was killed," mom sighed.
"Oh no!" Peter exclaimed, "Oh I'm so sorry, professor I had no idea..."
"It's alright, you couldn't have known," said mom, "Parker wanted to come to the memorial today but we didn't quite make it."
"Mom," I said, it was a signal to shut up, this guy didn't need to know our business.
"Listen I better get going," said Peter, as he stood up.
"But you didn't ask your question, I assume you wanted to ask something about the term paper," said mom.
"It's ok, it can wait," said Peter, he was writing something down on his note pad, "Parker, this is my email address, if you ever need to talk to someone, well, I don't know exactly what you're going through, I've never had a twin, but I lost someone pretty close to me when I was in high school. If you ever need to talk to someone, let me know."
"Uh, thanks," I said, taking the paper, I didn't know what else to say, he was so nice, I hadn't expected that.
"No problem," he smiled, then waved at my mom, "bye doc, I really am sorry."
"Thank you, have a good day, Peter," said mom.
This boy was a curiosity, I watched him walk out the door, where a woman in a black suit spoke to her hand, then followed him down the hall. I turned to my mom and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Secret Service Agent," said mom.
"Who was that?" I asked, still confused.
"Peter's a student in my prose class," said mom.
"Yeah I figured that," I replied, sarcastically, "why does he have a Secret Service agent following him around?"
"His father's the vice president," said mom.
"You have the vice president's son in your class and you never said anything?" I asked.
"I like to give my students their privacy," mom smiled.
"Oh, ok, I guess that makes sense," I agreed, "he was so nice."
"Yes, Peter's a sweet boy, cute too, don't you think?" said mom.
"Uh, yeah I guess so," I replied, giving my mom a quizzical look. She just winked at me.
What the hell was that all about? Sure I'd never had a girlfriend but, well, I'm shy. Was mom trying to give me some subtle hint that she thought I was gay? On top of everything else I'm dealing with, do my parents think I'm gay?
"Ready to go home?" asked mom.
"Yeah, just keep it under 90," I replied, then stood to follow her out of the office.
I kept thinking about mom's weird question about Peter, and the wink she gave me, at least it kept me from thinking about everything else on the drive home. I racked my brain for things I might have done that would make her think I was into guys but I couldn't come up with anything, it was all very strange. I started to get a little nervous, when we pulled into the driveway.
"Hey mom, we don't have to tell anyone what happened today, do we?" I asked.
"Parker, I have to tell your father," said mom.
"Do you have to? He'll just get upset," I whined.
"Honey, I don't keep secrets from your father, especially about his boys, he loves you very much and has a right to know what's going on," said mom.
"Can we just try not to make a big deal about it?" I pleaded.
"Tell you what, why don't you go up to your room and rest before dinner, and let me worry about dad, ok?" asked mom.
"Yeah, ok," I agreed.
She reached over and ran her fingers through my hair, kissed me on the check, then we got out of the car and walked inside. Dad was in the kitchen, getting a start on dinner, or trying to at least. We heard the tell tail signs of dad's cooking, mostly a lot of swearing and the occasional broken dish.
"Uh, hi," said dad, looking up from a pot that was boiling over.
He walked over and hugged me.
"How was the memorial?" he asked.
"Uh, I'm going up to my room," I replied.
"Oh, ok champ, dinner will be in an hour," said dad.
"Everything ok?" I heard dad ask, when I was out of the room.
"We can talk about it later, for now, I think we need to find a therapist for Parker," said mom.
I walked up to my room and put Patton's jacket back under my pillow. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone, the piece of paper with Peter's email address came out with it. I looked at the paper and thought about throwing it away, after all, I didn't know this guy. Then I thought about how he'd been nice to me and he was only trying to help, plus he was the vice president's son, that was pretty cool. I decided that it couldn't hurt to keep his email, I put it in my desk drawer and promptly forgot about it.