Date: Fri, 09 Sep 2005 21:12:56 -0400
From: Henry Higgins <escribir12@hotmail.com>
Subject: Nevermore!, Chapter 4

Statement of Intent: M/t/t
This story is about sexual love between an adult male and consenting teenage
males. If the subject of the story is offensive or illegal for you to read,
then don't. Otherwise, enjoy!

Statement of Ownership and Copyright:
The author known as Henry Higgins reserves all rights accorded by United
States copyright law. This story is for your enjoyment only. You may not
post, sell, or otherwise trasfer this story to anyone else.


Nevermore!


4--Waiting and Watching

Kenny-like-in-South-Park was sleeping. My bedroom was just down the hall,
but I settled down into the guest room wing chair to watch and wait. I gazed
on him as he slept, his face totally relaxed. I sniffed the tart ripeness of
unwashed pubescent boy--an aroma that normally would have had me hard and
straining for release. But caring for him seemed so much more important now
than messing around with him. I wondered what kind of life he had at home as
I recalled the manic conversation with a drunken man who swore that Kenny
and all his faggot-pedo friends should get AIDS and die. And, I thought of
how the kid said he'd seen me in the park, that I had looked nice, and he'd
hoped that I would like him and dreamed of me caring for him. So having
reviewed all that I knew about him, and he was still sleeping under the
tulip quilt, all I could do was to sink into my own slumber right there in
the chair. I felt sleep rising up to cover and hold me as I drifted from
consciousness.

"Wh... where am I?"

"What?" I struggled from the depths of my slumber and turned on the
nightstand light to see better what was going on. The old Victorian lamp
bathed the room in a rosy glow.

"Where am I?" The boy was sitting up in bed, perspiration dripping down his
forehead. It came back to me then. I reached for a tissue from the
nightstand to wipe his face.

"I brought you home. You were in the park in pretty bad shape. I brought you
home so you could rest," I answered.

"Oh! You're that guy--the one who looked so nice," he said.

"Yeah. I brought you home. How do you feel?" I asked.

"Like a truck rolled over me. Everything hurts, even my eyeballs. I don't
even know your name, but you must be nice--you brought me home with
you--just like I'd hoped!"

"Well I couldn't really leave you there, Kenny. You were in bad shape. My
name's Jim; Jim Watson. I live in your neighborhood not far from you."

"Yeah, I know. I've watched you since I first saw you go into the beehive.
Me and a friend followed you on our bikes one day," he said.

"Oh, so that's how you knew," I mused.

"Knew what?"

"Where I live. You alarmed me earlier when you said you know I live nearby.
I didn't know anybody knew me around here. I haven't lived here all that
long. You mentioned a bike. Did you leave one in the park? I could go get it
for you if you want..." I offered.

"No, man; but thanks. I walked over today. My bike's busted."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, well, shit happens. Boy! It sure happened today. I'm sorry I threw my
cookies on ya. And there I was, hopin' for a nice score," he said.

"Yeah. Me too. Except you're too young. We could both get in a heap of
trouble for that."

"Well, shit, man... I wouldn't turn ya in or anything. You're way too nice
for that."

"Thanks," I said.

"Naw, I mean it, man. You should see some of the scumbags I have to put up
with--my bastard old man, for one."

"Yeah, I got a taste of him earlier this evening."

"You did? Oh no! You talked to my old man? Oh shit! What? Did he come
lookin' for me?" The boy frowned in anxiety.

"No. Wait, Kenny... Calm down. A good friend of mine is a doctor. He came
over to look at you earlier. He gave you a shot and told me some things to
do to take care of you and help you get better. We also thought it would be
a good idea to let your family know where you are. We found a card in your
wallet with a phone number, so I called."

"Yeah? I'm surprised the sleezeball answered. He was probably drunk, wasn't
he?"

I nodded.

"Sumbitch is always drunk. He's gonna drink himself to death and I'll tell
ya--it won't be a second too soon for me! What'd he say?"

"He called you a faggot, assumed that I'm a 'fuckin pedo,' and said we
should all get AIDS and die," I said.

"That sounds about right. That fuckin' bastard is such a queer-hater. God I
hate him!"

I gulped. "Kenny, I can only imagine how hard it must be for you to live
with that." My throat tightened and I couldn't help a tear running down my
cheek. The boy just stared at me.

"So, are you?" he asked.

"Huh? Am I what? A queer?"

"No. I already know that; otherwise, you wouldn't be cruisin' the beehive.
You know... A pedo... A child molester?" He sat there looking at me
intently.

And there it was, the question I had always feared. And with it came the
habitual need to cover it up, to deny my nature. Fear roiled around in my
guts and made my face feel all prickly as I tried to figure out how to
answer him. But then I remembered that I'd committed to live more honestly
and openly--within reason, of course. All I could say as I wavered on the
edge of my confidence was, "Um, yeah." I wasn't sure what to expect, but I
was sure of one thing--I was going to be absolutely truthful with this boy.
If the truth about me freaked him, then so be it.

I don't know what I expected Kenny to do--run? Spit on me? Curse at me? But
he did none of these. Instead, he got the silliest sloppy grin on his face.
"I had a hunch you were. Well, just so's you know, I'm a faggot--just like
my bastard father says."

Now it was my turn. "I pretty well had that one figured out, too. And Kenny,
it doesn't matter to me whether you're gay or straight. You're still one
beautiful kid who needs some help right now, and I want to give it to you. I
just want to be sure that you're not afraid that I'm gonna jump you and rape
you."

"Shit no, Jim. I already know you're way too nice for that. Besides," he
gave me a coquettish little smile, "that could be fun!"

If the alarm bells hadn't been clanging off their mounts before, they were
definitely shaking the mountain then. I felt myself stiffen. (No, not that
part! Well, maybe just a little.) I smiled.

"That could be, Kenny. We'll have to talk about it more tomorrow. For now, I
suggest that we both try to get some more sleep--especially you."

But Kenny didn't say anything. He just sat there in the bed with a Mona Lisa
smile on his face. I wanted to be near him, to hold him, to reassure him.
But the damned alarm bells were still at it--along with Rog's stern face
dogging me. Well, to hell with them. I'd just have to be strong enough to
resist. I had to.

I got out of the chair and sat on the bed beside Kenny, who was grinning by
then. As I got closer, I thought I could see his eyes begin to glisten. I
reached out to him and smoothed back his hair. By then, I thought my silly
grin must have matched his. "We have a lot to talk about, Kenny. But that
can wait until tomorrow. Right now, we both need some sleep."

He leaned forward to reach his arms around me, still grinning, and hugged me
tightly. Then his eyes did overflow and he sobbed as he put his head against
my chest. I reached for another tissue from the nightstand to wipe away his
tears and brought his face up so that we could look directly at one another.

"Kenny, we have a lot to learn about each other. But I want you to know
right now that I swear I will never... ever... do anything intentionally to
hurt you."

"I know that, Jim. I can feel it in my heart." he answered. "I'm just so
happy to be here. Thank you for helping me."

"I'm happy that I could help you, son," I answered.

Kenny still had that sloppy grin on his face as I went down the hall to the
bathroom, wet a washcloth with warm water, and returned to the guest room to
wipe his face and shoulders. Then, I tucked him back in and turned out his
nightstand light. The nightlight on the wall lit the room in a soft glow.
What was happening to me? It was all rushing too fast. I felt the fear
gurgle up in my gut--along with the thrill of maybe, just maybe, being able
to love someone as I would have wanted to be loved and not have to screw it
up with sex.

"I'll be in the room right down the hall, Kenny. I'll leave the doors open
and the nightlights on so that if you need anything, anything at all, you
can call me. Okay? There's a bathroom just down the hall the same way... if
you need it." I pointed down to the left and he nodded, still grinning.

Kenny settled back into bed, rolled over, and it seemed only seconds before
his eyelids drifted shut. I leaned over to kiss his cheek, which seemed only
slightly warm by then, and then padded into my room, where I shed my clothes
and fell exhausted into my bed, barely pulling the covers up before falling
into a deep sleep.