Date: Sun, 26 Oct 2003 23:36:08 +0100 From: Pok Bepxtep <pok.bepxtep@lycos.nl> Subject: Taken for Granted 3 TAKEN FOR GRANTED written by Pok Bepxtep E-mail me if you liked the story. I can be found at pok.bepxtep@lycos.nl This story will most likely contain some provocative contents about a loving and later on sexual relationship between a young boy and a man. If you find those things offensive, then don't read them... But I don't think you do, cause you wouldn't have bothered checking out nifty's adult-youth section. Furthermore, I'd like to thank the people who've contacted me. Your supporting words have been an inspiration for me to carry on with the story. I've also rewritten the first two chapters. People told me some parts of those chapters weren't very easy to read and to understand. I hope it's better now. I'm not changing it again, cause I want to move on with the story. Keep on reading! Greetings Pok Bepxtep ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Three: First sight 'Wow!!!' was all that came to Liam's Mind when he walked through the entrance of the bowling. Never had he seen such a place. It didn't take a genius to know the owner was rich. Also, this bowling being state of the art would even make him wealthier. There were 18 lanes, all with colourful screens to count the scores. There were some blacklights and mirror balls and stuff like that all over the place. On a blackboard near the entrance it said those things would be turned on at 9 pm, the starting hour of a massive bowling party. Between the entrance and the lanes were seats for at least 100 people to sit. There were ordinary chairs and tables, which looked modern and pleasant to sit in. But most of the attendants would probably hope to get a seat in one of the big dark blue couches on the right hand side. Furthermore, there were 6 pool tables, some dart boards and stuff like that. All to keep the customer happy, busy and paying. The bar and the counter were on the far left hand side. It looked very modern, with the neons above it spelling the bowling alley's name, which was 'Between pins and pints'. There were about 10 stools to sit on, and the back of the bar was all mirror. Liam walked over to the counter and ordered a lane. He'd have to wait another hour to be given the chance to play, since every lane was already taken. The ad had done it's work, cause there was a big crowd, mostly families with kids. The atmosphere was very enjoyable, with lots of laughter from both kids and adults. Normally he wouldn't wait, but he felt like giving the bowling thing a go. He bought himself a lemonade and sat down at a table for two. While waiting, he looked around, reading all billboards, watching the people bowl... He saw lots of people struggling to get the ball to the end of the lane without dropping into the gutter. At least he didn't have to worry about getting laughed at, or something. On lane 11, a man in his mid thirties was playing by himself. That man did hit the pins. Not just a few, but he threw strikes and spares, making look bowling easy. Liam hoped he wouldn't have to replace this guy on lane 11. The guy, having his own gear, such as two glimming balls, special shoes and glove, didn't even seem to realise there were others next to him. He was concentrating so hard it seemed as if he were playing chess against Anatoly Karpov. Until... Until Liam caught the man looking straight at him. The man stood there for a few seconds as if he was nailed to the floor. He then shook his head, seemingly trying to wipe a thought out of his mind. He turned back to his game and grabbed his ball. Right before he stepped onto the approach of the lane, the man glanced back at Liam. Only briefly. Then he positioned himself, approached the lane and launched the ball... The nice curve the ball usually made, always narrowly avoiding the gutter, now came too late. The ball dropped into the right hand gutter. The man's scores dropped, but fortunately, it was his last game. He only got a 134 in that, which was pretty pale comparing the 200 plus average from the four games before. And everytime he came back from the lane, he looked directly at Liam. Liam started feeling uncomfortable. But then again, the fact that he seemed to stirr something into the bowler's mind intrigued him. He looked down at himself, seeing that he wasn't wearing anything weird or dirty that might distress the other people. But there must be something about him that would make someone act out of order. The man packed his gear. At that very moment, Liam heard his name in the speakers. It was his turn to go and show off his skills. And, yes, as it always will happen, he got the very lane he didn't want to play on, lane 11. He went to the counter to get a pair of bowling shoes and strolled to the lane, carrying another drink and some candy. By the time Liam was about to throw a bowling ball for the very first time in his life, the man who'd previously been playing on the same lane was nowhere to be seen. The boy shrugged, grabbed a ball and started bowling. The boy didn't do that bad. He did get some pins knocked down and he kinda liked the game. Sometimes he looked around to see if the man was around, somewhere. He didn't see him anywhere, until he was halfway the second game of two. Liam looked at the table where he sat before, and there he was. Liam just stood there looking at the man who was staring him straight in the eyes. There was still a fair distance between the boy and the man, but Liam could see clearly the man's eyes were starting to tear. That first real eye contact was also the last. The man hastily grabbed his gear and walked away, out of the bowling. It was as if he was running away from something. Or someone. This let Liam all confused. What about him could make a man he never laid eyes on start to cry and run off? Liam swiftly finished his bowling and left to go back home. All the way back to his place he pondered about what had happened. At home, he couldn't concentrate on anything and at night, it took him forever to fall asleep. What he thought was worst, was that he'd probably never know the answers to all the questions that had arisen in his mind. He prayed that he'd forget about what'd happened. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- pok.bepxtep@lycos.nl