Date: Thu, 28 Aug 2014 13:42:16 -0700
From: Zac Lucas <kay1w1@yahoo.com>
Subject: Riley, Ace of Spades, Chapter 1

This story is set in New Zealand and uses NZ English. The age of consent
here is sixteen, not eighteen. Riley is fictional; Alex is pretty much
myself. Positive comments are welcome.


Perhaps if the heavens had not opened at that very moment, I might have
driven right by him, intent on arriving home as quickly as possible, given
that there were perishables in the back, and I was running later than I had
intended. But the molten lead sky had its own agenda: it burst open with a
downpour usually reserved for tropical countries, not sub-tropical ones.

Within moments, the string of cars in front of me, dabbed on their brakes,
and slowed to a safer speed. Silver or grey vehicles flicked park or
headlights on low beam; windscreen wipers danced left-right-left... at
medium, then rapidly adjusted to high setting. It was then that I noticed
him, standing on the shoulder up ahead, thumb out, trying to hitch a
ride. Instantly, I thought: you stupid fool. What the hell are you doing
out in this crazy weather? But no one else appeared to see him; or rather,
care to stop.

I checked behind me, then signalled to pull over just past the boy, then
waited for him to catch up. Leaned across and flung the door open, as his
lanky frame appeared beside it.

"Going far?" I all but yelled. He pointed further ahead and said something
I couldn't hear above the pelting rain. "Hop in. I'll drop you somewhere a
bit better."

The boy nodded and flung a small backpack in the footwell, and jack-knifed
himself into the passenger seat. Slammed the door closed. I waited till
he'd put his belt on, then pulled back out into the traffic. Once underway,
he didn't offer much by way of conversation, let alone explain why he was
out in dodgy weather. Still, I made small talk. "Great day to be a duck or
a dolphin. Too bad if you're not." He nodded, sagely. Okay. That line
usually raises a laugh. "I'm Alex, by the way." I offered my hand. He
grasped it and gave it a firm, wet shake. "Zander with a zed; sometimes Al,
but Alexander only if I'm the dog box. And you are...?"

"Riley."

"Cool name."

"Thanks."

"So, Riley – sorry, but I didn't catch where you were headed for. I'm
turning off up at Albany if that's of any use to you."

He bit his cherry red lip. I waited for a response, but when none was
forthcoming, glanced over. His thatch of honey blonde hair flopped over his
right eye, but the left deep blue one stared straight back at me, as though
defying me to stop the car and throw him out. Rain droplets succumbed to
gravity, and continued to drip off his chin, nose and hair. I tore my gaze
away, and concentrated on the potentially hazardous driving conditions,
before venturing another peek at him. The spray of freckles added to his
cute factor, alongside the high cheekbones in his baby face – all of
which undoubtedly had people asking for his number, if not the next
dance...

His light cough brought me out of my daydream. "I... um... I don't have
anywhere to go,' Riley was quiet, yet firm. "My family disowned me," he
carried on, answering my next question. I shot him a disbelieving look; my
mouth forming a 'why?'. "It's for reals," he concluded with a shrug. Going
by the fact that he looked one the verge of bursting into tears, he seemed
to be telling the truth.

"I see," was all I could manage. My mind raced. It beggars belief that
so-called parents can do that to their offspring – toss them to the
wolves the minute they don't fit their preconceived notion of what a child
should be in life; the nuclear-family of two-point-four children, made of
sugar and spice, and all things nice... yeah, right. What the hell happened
to the right to be brought up, accepted and loved for who you are, not a
projection of someone else's misguided – and likely, religious -
conditioning, however well intended? I puffed out my cheeks. Riley stared
at his long fingers laced in his lap.

His small backpack down at his feet didn't have much inside by the looks of
it. Well, what of it? He couldn't be much more than about five foot ten –
two inches taller than me – but there were probably some spare clothes
at the house I could temporarily offer him. "When did this happen?"

"Two nights ago. I've been on the road all day."

I nodded. "You must be starving."

"Nah, I'm okay." He forced a smile, just as his belly grumbled. I chuckled.
"That's what you think, mate. Your stomach has other ideas. If I didn't
know better, I'd say it's planning an all-out assault." This time, a wan
smile crossed his face.

I exited the off-ramp for Albany, and guided the hatch through the outer
edge of the North Shore suburb, and in time, turned onto a two-lane country
road.

The rain was easing to a drizzle as we pulled up to the security gate. I
thumbed the remote, but the gate didn't whirr into action. Another press on
the remote, pointed straight at the small electronics box outside. Still
nothing. I smiled at Riley. "Heavy showers do that sometimes. Shorts it
out. Would you mind hopping out and doing the honours? You'll see there's a
manual trip switch just beneath the box." I gestured at the black device
outside. Riley unbuckled himself and darted out to take care of it. As I
eased the Swift through the gate, he gave a flourish with one hand, and a
mock bow. I smiled and returned a 'royal' wave back.

His mouth fell open in astonishment at the sight of the well-manicured
property and large house. "All this is yours?" he gasped. I
nodded. "Cooool..." he murmured.

"Thank you," I replied. "Glad you approve." The grin split his cherubic
visage like a shaft of sunlight spearing through turbulent clouds. I
mentally shook my head to clear it. Gotta find better metaphors, that's for
sure, I thought to myself. Lame...

I sprung the boot latch and opened the back door of the hatch. Grabbed as
much as I could carry, and was pleased to see that the kid didn't need
asking to lend a hand. He bounded ahead of me and leaped up the wooden
steps, two at a time. Waited like an eager puppy under the alcove, for me
to find the key – arms weighed down with grocery bags. "What are you
waiting for? It's not locked." Riley was amazed by this announcement.

"Serious?" He asked in disbelief. I caught up to him and pushed my way
inside. "Okay, I guess that's for reals, too."

Indoors, I plonked the shopping down on the marble kitchen bench. Riley
followed suit, then strode behind me as I made my way back out to the
car. We managed the remainder between us, and I simply closed the car doors
for the time being, and left the vehicle where it was parked. Riley was
silent as we returned to the house.

In the kitchen, I told him I'd handle the shopping. He needed to get out of
his drenched clothes and take a shower, which was next to the room just
down the hall on the left. Did he have any spares in his backpack? He shook
his head and said they were soaked through as well. So I offered the
bathrobe from the guest room; and I'd put his gear in the drier whilst he
was having a shower, then fix him something to eat.

"Who else is here?" Riley asked as he padded after me down the hallway.

"Well, actually a bunch of people live here. This -" I took in the whole
house with a sweep of one arm - "is a spiritual retreat. An ashram." He
froze. I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and looked him straight
in the eye. "Don't worry, buddy. We're not Jesus freaks or anything like
that, okay?" He bit his lip. "I promise. Trust me on that."

Another sage nod. "Good lad." I smiled warmly again, and waved for him to
go into the small bathroom. "Take as long as you need, but not forever;
we're on tank water out here."

"Oh, same at home..." he dried up. Shrugged, then ventured a grin at me. "I
can always pedal the bike a bit faster to pump more water, if necessary."

I was pleased to see his impish sense of humour matched his facial
features. "Nah, no need. Rubbing two sticks together for a fire is much
more effective." I ruffled his damp hair. "Enjoy your shower, and I'll see
you when you're done."

"Okay." I turned to go. He called out: "Alex?"

I spun around. He was already peeling off his shirt. His thin frame didn't
have any visible marks, which I'd been worried about, but I noticed he
didn't turn around, either. His olive skin had a faint happy trail, and
that was all, so far as puberty was concerned – or as far as I could
see, at any rate. "Thanks for everything. I mean that."

It was my turn to give a nonchalant shrug. "Just doing what I can do help a
brother out. Gay or straight, makes no difference to me."

Instead of refuting it like I half-expected, he poked out his long tongue,
and thrust his slender hands on his hips. "I'm bi, bitch." I feigned horror
by mock-strangling myself, then grabbed his clothes and took off to the
laundry before he could throw something at me.

Over a meal of vegetarian lasagne, homegrown salad and boiled potatoes with
mint dressing (which he wolfed down), I explained that just five of us
currently lived in the ashram. I was house-sitting since they were all away
in the States at a big event. The only other occupant was our Tortoiseshell
cat, Jazmyne. If she liked Riley, it was a good sign. If not, he'd have to
sleep in the barn. Riley nodded. Said he'd had far worse. I answered that I
was just kidding about the barn; I don't expect guests to sleep there. They
have to keep the possums company in the bush across the small stream. Which
likely could flood overnight from the rain. His eyes widened. I kept a
straight face for as long as I could, then cracked up laughing. This time,
Riley joined in, and it thrilled me to hear the boy's freestyle giggling
lighting up the dining room. To all intents and purposes, he seemed a
remarkably fine, well-adjusted and smart individual – present
circumstances, notwithstanding.

During a dessert of raw vegan passionfruit cheesecake and coconut
ice-cream, Riley filled me in on some of his past. He had a few thousand
dollars sown into the lining in his backpack (I mentally thanked whoever
was responsible for changing our currency over from paper to polymer
plastic) saved up from paper runs, sweeping up at a few stores after
school, selling a handful of items online, and birthday money from his
grandmother, as he was her favourite grandchild. He hadn't hiked to her
place, as he knew it would be the first place his parents suspected he went
when he did a runner yesterday. Assuming they even cared to check. But the
police might.

I waited as he weighed up how much to tell me. Softly stilled his nervous
fingers. Grasped them in mine. Told him to only share as much or as little
as he wanted; I wasn't going to force the issue. Again, the wise,
considered nod. Then he put his hand over mine, and continued. His mother
was actually the one who kick-started his descent into hell. Although she
denied it black-and-blue, she had a drug habit, developed from an early
addiction to painkillers during her pregnancy with Riley. Initially,
innocent enough, of course – a bung nerve in her back which was risky to
operate on successfully, but which didn't seem to flare with the right
suppressants. That took some time to work out which were okay, and which
she reacted to, either with nausea and vomiting, to passing out
altogether. So Riley, and his sister April, soon learned to fend for
themselves. Stayed out of the way when their mother became a crazy
banshee. So far, so normal. But... you should never mix alcohol with drugs,
just like the labels warn. Pppft. When did mum ever pay attention to such
poppycock as labels and their stupid instructions? Like, never.

The worst wasn't even when she started sleeping around when his father was
on another three-month furlong in Aussie, down in the mines at Karatha. It
was when she was out to it after a fuck or three, and a few of her drunk
conquests started coming on to Riley, beginning when he was just seven. Yet
again, I wondered how people came to deserve the title of parent, when –
in my eyes - they were anything but... and why children – teens like
Riley - who seem to have a lot of Light, attract such darkness in their
lives.

A tear slid down his cheek.

I gently broke his grip and silently wiped it with my thumb. He held my
hand there, for what felt like an eternity, then slowly released it. Said
that he tried to get away, but they only beat him for it, so he tried to
become invisible, with laughable results. He soon learned to comply, and
actually reached a point where he made them pay him extra for fucking him
over, whether just a blowjob, or full-on intercourse. May as well get
something out of it, right? I nodded slowly. He gave a snigger. That's the
rest of the moolah, in case you were wondering. I said I wasn't, as it was
none of my business.

In the silence, the timer on the drier chimed again. Gosh, how long had
that been pinging, and we'd not heard it? I glanced up and saw that it was
dark. Excused myself; retrieved his warm clothes from the laundry, and
beckoned him to accompany me down the hall again. This time, I veered off
into the other bedroom which has a view overlooking the bush.

"Hope you don't mind company." I said. His eyes lit up and he spontaneously
hugged me. I pointed to Jazmyne on the edge of the Queen-sized bed, licking
her bottom. Riley seemed crestfallen. "Dude, you're privileged. Madam
doesn't pick just anyone to share her bed with – you should genuflect
with gratitude for a week." His boyish giggle flitted out once more, and he
eyed me with a mischievous grin.

"Anything you say, Zander. You're the boss." Accompanied with another show
of bowing and scraping again. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Riley, I totally suck at the whole master-slave thing."

"Well, I just suck, hard core, period." Out darted the cheeky tongue.

I chucked a pillow at him. "Knew you were gonna say that, shmart arse."

He giggled. Bounded over to me again and gave me a long hug. As I looked
deep into his Sinatra blues, he kissed me. For a long time. I felt a twitch
and stirring in my groin. When we broke off, his eyes were still
closed. They fluttered open, and he blushed, then ducked his gaze. By
Hermes, that boy was a looker.

I moved closer. Lifted his chin with one finger. Tears were sliding down
his chiselled cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak, but I shushed it with
the same finger. He slowly licked it like a lollipop, then withdrew. Found
his voice, but spoke in quiet tones. "I am actually legal, Alex. Just."

Like most people, I'd pegged him as being younger than he was. Sixteen but
looked twelve, if that. Albeit, a very tall twelve.

I beamed. Decided to make light of it. "Me too, kiddo. Me too. 'Night,
night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bugs bite. If they do, blame the cat."

Riley chuckled, and looked at Jaz who was already curled up asleep. He
casually undid the bathrobe I'd loaned him, and tossed it on the back of
the bedside chair. His full boner was a sight to behold. He flicked it once
against his torso, then gestured to Jaz. "Guess Her Majesty would object if
I took care of it in bed right now, huh?"

"Not unless you fancy racing strips across your torso, no."

He looked at me with a sad smile. Turned around to show me the scars of his
'punishment' administered by his insane mother over the years. I
dry-retched.

"Oh my God. Riley, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean --"

He shook his curls, hard. "It's okay. I know you didn't. You're a kind man,
Zander. I know you'd never hurt me or try to take advantage."

I was too dumbstruck by what he'd shown me, to reply straight away.

Riley broke the spell with a soft giggle as he jumped into bed, bouncing
erection and all, yanked the covers up and closed his eyes.

I stood there till I heard his breathing change and knew he was asleep,
then quietly returned to the kitchen to clean up, prepare the next day's
breakfast whilst dwelling on the interesting events of the day.

The ashram was accustomed to visitors coming and going, and devotees who
might stay a few days to a few weeks or more to have healing from the
special energy of the house, the crystals, the bush walks; meditation and
chanting evenings, I couldn't help but wonder yet again, at the plan of the
Divine who had undoubtedly orchestrated my meeting Riley, and where it
would lead next. Whilst I hoped I was as surrendered as possible to 'what
is', who knew what unknown factors that boy might possess – or if his
past was all he claimed it to be. Never mind the ease with which he'd
virtually fitted in to our environment, as though he belonged here, all
along. I also couldn't predict what effect his being here would have –
not just on me, but on the regular devotees when they returned from their
pilgrimage. Time would surely tell.