Date: Mon, 27 Aug 2007 15:49:06 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Natures Trail 23

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the
format of reality. Any resemblances to real people,
alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in
nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon
persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental
areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene
involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then
you should not read this story. Additionally, if you
are under 18 years of age, in most state and
countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by
law. Check with your local laws regarding such. %
Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction.
In real life, use protection.

%

"Nature's Trail" 23
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Dad, how come I can't go see Mark?"

"Listen son. Mark is still sleeping. He would not be
able to talk to you," Barry tells him.

Not giving up, Denis says, "You know, in science
class, my teacher said people can hear you speak to
them even though they are in a coma?"

"Mark isn't in a coma, son. He..."

"How do they know, dad? He never woke up from the time
I picked him up and slung him over my shoulder, until
now," Denis whined.

"Actually, Mark did wake up, but for a short moment."

"And you didn't tell me?" Denis asks, hyper, sitting
up in the bed on his knees.

"It was for a very short interval, before they put him
under, to stitch up his head."

"Well, what did he say?"

"About ten words," his father reports.

"Tell me?" Denis pleaded.

"The doctor told me he said he had to talk to you."

Sinking down on his ass, Denis' head slumped to his
chest. He finally opened up with, "I owe him a lot. He
put his life on the line trying to save me. I don't
think I was going to..." the word `jump' was on his
mind, but he mellowed out his vocabulary, saying, "do
anything. I was scared shit when the ledge starting
crumbling away. I don't know why I did such a stupid
thing in the first place. I could have gotten Mark
killed."

"Not to mention yourself, Denis?"

Barry was fishing for some information, as to what was
going on in Denis' head. After a short period of
silence, he asked, "Why don't you level with me, son?"

Lying down, Denis took the sheet and pulled it up over
his chest, then his head, lying there as if waiting to
be taken down to the morgue. Grabbing a handful, at
the bottom of the bed, Barry slid the sheet down
enough to reveal Denis' moist eyes. Walking over,
projecting his chest over Denis', he slid his hands
under the eighteen year old, scooping him up in an
embrace, saying, "Your dad and I love you very much.
We're going to get you the help you need."

%

Alonzo sat in an easy chair, reading the newspaper,
his feet on the coffee table, crossed at the ankles.
When he saw Callan walk in the house, he dropped the
paper to his lap, asking, "How did things... go?"

"Oh just dandy," Callan replied, sarcastically.

Folding the paper in half, then halving it, Alonzo lay
it aside, relinquishing his comfy position to comfort
his mate.

"What happened? Don't tell me the kid pressed charges,
before you could?"

"No. Nothing like that at all. Sure, I was going to
press charges. Detective Crew said I had a good case.
Only, one thing got in the way."

"What was that?"

"Riley Sanchez."

"Come in the kitchen. I'll get you a drink."

Walking next to his partner, Alonzo placed a
comforting arm over his shoulders, coaxing him onward,
at a slow pace. Depositing him in a chair, he went to
the fridge, returning with two cans of root beer.

"Now tell me what this is all about."

There wasn't much to it. He explained leaving WRCC in
separate vehicles. Detective Crew and he waited at the
station. They know Juan Ibarra was brought in, Riley
processing him, but then never seeing him again.

"What do you mean?"

"We waited for Riley to bring Juan to us and he never
showed. Next thing we knew, Riley had pulled over a
bus, with Juan on it and asked me to drop the
charges."

"Drop the charges? Did you?"

"As I've previously mentioned, Riley and are kind of
close. Before Maria brought my sister and I to the
United States, he was one of the key players in
getting our visas, raising cash to bring us here. I
owe him a lot. I trust him. When he asked me to drop
the charges against Juan, I just had to do it."

"And what did Detective Crew have to say about all of
this?"

"Actually he was kind of pissed," Callan told him.

"Of course. Here he had an ongoing investigation, a
possible case built against the swimmer and Riley
botched it up?"

"I can see your point, Alonzo, but at the same time I
trust Riley's intentions. I mean it's not like Juan
sexually assaulted me or anything."

"I suppose. I'll have to leave it at your intuition.
If you think you've done the right thing, you have my
suppport as well."

Changing the subject, Callan asks, "How did the boys
do on their first day back to school?"

"Their first day back, Diego gets hit with a project,
so he's over at James' house, talking it over."

"What about Seth?"

"I left Philip off too and then Seth and Aidan wanted
to go with the crowd. You know how it is," Alonzo
says.

"I hope they work on more than goofing off!"

"Speaking of... why don't we go upstairs and do a
little goofing off of our own?"

Callan smiles, saying, "I could use a hot shower and
anything else hot!"

%

"Whew!"

"What's up, Mr. Manager?"

Christian, walking in the door, flops down on the sofa
like a ragdoll. "Geesh! I didn't know being a manager
could be so taxing. I think I'll go back to flipping
ham and eggs!"

Taking himself away from his laptop, Justin picks up
Christian's arm and parks himself right next to him.
"Michael keep you busy?"

"I'll say. First off, he gives me the inventory Adrian
prepared, shows me who to call to get what and then
turns me loose on the telephone. It took me most of
the morning to handle it. Then in the afternoon I
started round two, applicants filling out forms and
doing some on-the-spot interviews."

"College guys? High school kids?"

"All sorts. Even guys in their thirties and a couple
of seniors, looking for income supplement. Even got
some brawny girls applying, who looked like they could
haul fifty pound trays!"

Justin says, "You can't be biased."

"Oh, I'm not, even though I could be."

"Oh?"

All it took was Christian grinning to answer the
question.

"That nice, huh?"

"This one guy, in his thirties, rivaled any of the
college guys. Man, he must workout every day!"

"So, you hiring him?"

"I don't know. Michael says not to make any decision
til the end of the week, til we've given fair chance
for everyone to apply," Christian says.

"So, you don't think you're going to like the
`manager' position?"

"I'll cut it. I just have to get used to everything.
Virtually I'll be doing a lot of the things Michael
has been doing for years."

Justin asks, "Then what will Michael be doing?"

"Relaxing. Taking it easy... he says maybe he and
Kevin can take a vacation. With the cafe, Michael said
it's been at least twenty years since he's taken a
real `getaway' vacation."

"Married to his business, huh?" Justin has the
forthsight to call it.

"I suppose you can say that. Now, instead of the
business, he has Kevin."

"He deserves him. You don't know how many times
Michael has thought he's in love, only to have the guy
bail out on him."

"I hadn't realized you and Michael were this close,
Justin?"

"We're not. I mean, I've just gathered different facts
about him, talking with him, when I'd stop in for a
bite to eat. He loves a good conversation."

"Don't I know it!"

"Did he tell you about the college student who played
up to him, only to get free meals?"

"No. When was this?" Christian inquires.

"A couple of years before you came to town. Yeah, the
guy pretended to be head-over-heels in love with him.
Michael thought he had a nice relationship going with
the guy, until the end of the semester when the jock
brought his boyfriend in to `meet' Michael."

"Now that's just wrong!" Christian says of it. "I hope
Michael dumped his soup in his lap!"

"That's not Michael's style. He banned the guy from
the cafe, which was all the satisfaction Michael
needed. Anyway, he learned not to fall for that scam
again."

"Well," Christian winds it up, "I'm happy he has
Kevin. He's got a stable business, so you know he's
going to stick around, plus he's kind of hot."

"You think so, do you?" Justin asks.

"I mean he's nothing to compare with you!"

Slowly, Christian's arm falls down Justin's shoulder,
turning his body inward. Reading the signs, Justin
takes off his glasses and places them on the coffee
table. Sitting back, Christian reaches over, unfastens
the shirt a couple of buttons, his hand exploring.

"How about we take this in the other room?" Justin
suggests. "You never know when Uncle Seb will walk
in!"

%

When Barry left, Denis reverted to his favorite
pasttime, studying the nooks and crannies of the
ceiling tiles, trying to see if any two were alike.
Three minutes later he was bored stiff. Looking at the
phone, he thought of dialing somebody. Then he
realized, unlike his cell phone, he didn't have a list
of stored numbers. Through the window, the sun was
three quarters of the way towards setting. Boredom
caused his mind to backtrack to yesterday. Played over
and over again, Denis ran his hands up and down his
arms, the same places Mark wrapped his around, keeping
him from falling into the gully. When Mark pulled him
backwards, he didn't even recall Mark saying `ouch' or
any painful utterance. As the series of events
followed, they all centered around his brother, his
mind stopping at some details, like when they hitched
a ride with Matt. `Pathetic', Denis said to himself,
recalling Mark lying there on the seat, unconscious.
`He helped me and I couldn't do anything to help him!'


"Hey, you hungry?"

The mousy voice prompted Denis to elevate himself to
his elbows, propping his body up.

"Jose?"

Letting himself in, the door close behind him, the
seventeen year old held up little plastic bags,
saying, "I brought you some `real' food!"

Denis couldn't help but grin, watching Jose smile, as
he dangled a package of Twinkies from each hand.

"Kind of," Denis said, as Jose tossed both packs onto
the bed, saying, "They're free... here!"

One landed on Denis' chest, sliding down to where the
second package slapped against his stomach.

"Cool, thanks."

After opening one of the packages of two units, he
offered to Jose, "Here, take one."

"Okay," Jose said, standing next to the bed.

"I bet you're really bored, huh?"

"Yeah. Not much to do but lay here and stare at the
ceiling," Denis replied, stuffing the rest of his cake
into his mouth. "Can you sit and talk for awhile?"

"Sure. I've got lots of time. I'm off duty," Jose
replied, sitting in the space Denis provided, moving
his legs to the side.

Denis coughed to get something out of his throat, then
again.

"You alright?" Jose asked, concerned.

Holding up one finger, as if to say, `one minute',
Denis coughed again, then again... he couldn't stop.

Jumping off the bed, taking Denis' feet with him, Jose
pulled on Denis' arm, making him stand up next to the
bed. With his arms around Denis' waist, he formed his
hands together like praying, then punched him in the
stomach-like, releasing, then doing it again. Finally
he sensed Denis breathing again.

"It must've.. gone down.. the wrong way," Denis
finally said.

"Here. Drink this," Jose said, handing him a glass of
water.

After gulping it down, Denis says,  "Where did you
learn to do that? You saved my life!"

"In health class. One time the first aid squad came to
our school to demonstrate some lifesaving techniques.
We got to try things out on each other. Are you okay
now?" Jose asked, rubbing both hands over Denis'
shoulders.

"I think," he said.

"Here, let me fix your bed before you get back in."

Denis stood there, watching Jose toss the sheet in the
air, letting it fill up with air, then float down over
the bed. In no time he had it tucked in and the pillow
fluffed. "Anytime you want to get back in, it's ready
for you."

"Thanks," Denis said, as Jose held the sheet up for
him to get under.

"Are you cold? I can get you a blanket?"

"A little. I had a tee shirt on when I came in. The
policeman gave it to me."

"Let me check," Jose said, hopping off the bed, going
to the closet. "PAL?" he reported back.

"That's it," Denis said.

Bringing it over, Denis held out his hand to take it,
but instead Jose held the bottom open, ready for Denis
to target it with his head. With haste, Jose reached
behind him and draped it over his back.

"You're good at taking care of people."

"Thanks," Jose says, adding, "I have varied jobs here.
Sometimes I have to help people get dressed."

Then Jose went back to sitting on the bed. For a few
seconds they didn't have anything to talk about, as
they stared at each other. Then they both said
something at the same time, Denis saying, "Go ahead."

Jose replied, "No, you."

"I was going to ask how you became involved in the job
you do?"

"Well, first, I don't get paid for it. It's all
volunteer work. I like doing it a lot because I like
helping people."

"A good way to be," Denis said.

"My mom was a nurse, so I think I prolly got the idea
from her, plus when the first aid squad came to our
school. I just got the idea and couldn't get it out of
my head."

"So, your mom isn't a nurse anymore?"

With a quaint smile, Jose replies, "My mom passed
away."

Feeling the way he did, it hit Denis in the heart,
empathetic feelings forming in his mind. He rolled up
to a sitting position, placing his hand on Jose's
hand, saying, "I'm real sorry."

"Thanks Denis. The way I look at it is by doing what
I'm doing, it's like a tribute to her. Do you know
what I'm getting at?"

"Sort of." Then other questions crowded Denis'
thoughts. "You're still in high school, right?"

Still sitting there, his hand on Jose's, the teen
said, "Yes."

"So, where do you find time to do stuff high school
students do?"

"It's not important to me. There's only me and my dad.
He works two jobs, so I don't see him much. After my
mom died, he said find something to do which would
keep me busy and out of trouble. So, I found this. I
also get a certificate and letter of community service
to go in my file, if I ever decide to go to college or
get a job." Then looking down, towards his lap, Jose
says, "It feels nice."

Immediately Denis lifts up his hand, realizing he
hadn't let go of Jose's hand.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't realize I was.. you know," Denis
apologizes. He also makes a mental note of what Jose
said.

"It's okay. I know you were just being friendly," Jose
says, with a smile.

Then lying back, Denis puts his hands behind his head,
elbows out to the sides, asking, "So, what are your
plans for college?"

"Well," Jose takes a deep breath, "there's no way I'm
going to have enough money to go to college, so I'm
hoping for some type of scholarship. If I go to WRCC,
I can save money by staying at home and not at a dorm.
If I don't get a scholarship, my dad said he could
afford to pay for one course. I'll work and go to
college. It was one of the things my mom told my dad
before she passed away. She wanted me to have a
college education."

"I hope this doesn't make you upset, but what did she
die of and when?"

"Cancer. Two years ago. Because she worked here at the
hospital, they took good care of her, but she had too
much of it in her body for them to treat her."

"I'm sorry," Denis said, returning one hand, from
behind his head, reaching down his own bod to connect
with Jose's hand, which had been resting on top of the
sheet, on his thigh.

"Like I said, she received good treatment, had lots of
friends who loved her. Through one of those friends I
got the job at the hospital. Even though I don't get
paid, I get free food. It saves my dad a lot on the
food bill."

Denis let Jose ramble on, talk as much as he wanted
to. In a way, he found him fascinating, not your
average high school student.

"So, you're a senior? Graduating?" Jose asked Denis.

"I hope. I did some stupid things, which landed me a
horrendous grade on a math test, not that I'm a whiz
at math or anything."

"Really? Math is one of my strong subjects. Maybe I
can help you with it."

"Would be cool," Denis replied. "There's only like a
month and a half left of school. I think I need a
miracle to pass my math class."

"Who do you have for math class?"

"Mr. Hanson."

"He's tough."

"Tell me about it. Once you get on his shit list,
you're like on it forever!"

Thinking about it, Jose meant he was tough as far as
his teaching methods. Personally, he thought Mr.
Hanson to be a nice guy, a challenging teacher.

"Um, did you do something to make you think that,
Denis?"

Pressuring his head against the pillow, Denis puts
both hands on his face like he's washing it,
confessing, "I screwed up so bad!"

Waiting, Jose watched Denis til he removed his hands,
one wiping what seemed to be tears from his eyes.

"Want to talk about it?"

Sniffing, Denis slowly focused on Jose, as he cleared
his face and thoughts, saying, "It's not only about
math."

"You can talk about anything. Whatever you want. Maybe
I can help you with what's bothering you."

Not sure, Denis figured if he talked about certain
subjects, he would have to out himself. Then he
thought, `what the hell', a lot of people knew he was
gay.

%


Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.