Date: Thu, 12 Apr 2001 04:23:06 -0700 (PDT)
From: Zane Green <ZaneG7@excite.com>
Subject: Underground Angel: Part Eleven by Zane Hunter Green

 This work is fictional. None of the characters are based on real people.
Please do not read if you are not of legal age or Adult-Youth stories get
your Gerbil or any other animal you think of. Comments can be directed to
ZaneG7@Excite.com and are greatly appreciate it.

I felt empty inside. I just told Sash of the day we took the Path train from
Jersey City where I grew up, into Manhattan and then the Brooklyn line to
Coney Island. I never told him the details like how I cut school to be with
Terry that day. I always thought that Terry was cute and exciting, but
resented him from being openly gay. Calling him my best friend was part way
true, though around other kids I had started to act like I barely knew him.
I was just coming to terms with myself and having a feast of self-hatred. I
was nothing like the boy beside me now, so open with his affection.

Terry in fact had been a very cute boy, long blond hair, daring blue eyes,
but he had a lisp and everyone harassed me for hanging out with him. I was
starting to be accepted by a new crowd of boys. They were kids that surfed.
I wanted that surfboard so badly to take down to Beach Haven and act macho
and ride the waves with the cool kids, that I think I pretended that I was
broke that day and got Terry to pay for my train token. I hoarded my money
and wouldn't share. Twenty dollars was a great deal back then.

 I still liked Terry, but I tried to see him when other kids weren't around,
so when he said lets ditch school that hot June day I said "Sure man, but
you can't tell anyone about it." He said something like "Hell Kurt, my
parents would kill me if they found out I cut school." He thought I was
talking about my family, not the other kids We were sworn to secrecy.

 When I left Terry to whore with those men beneath the boardwalk, I remember
cursing him, and going home by myself.  I think I even cried on the subway.
Something didn't feel right. At the time I think it was just being mad at
Terry for making me face the truth about myself, although I  had chickened
out when offered money for sex, or maybe it was my own self-preservation.

Terry never came home. If I had shared that pittance of money maybe he would
have, maybe he would still be my lover keeping me from going from body to
body in a dance of discontent. Maybe I was still looking for Terry. Maybe
Sascha was Terry. He would have been born shortly after Terry died. With
sickening dread I knew that Terry was gone, he never had a chance to grow
up, and I could have saved him. Often when I see a subway car I think of
Terry. A subway took me from him, and started the trip of lies. I never did
buy that surfboard. That was when I got my first job writing copy for a
teen-magazine looking for a kid-writer. I didn't have time to surf, I was
too busy chasing the beach fads, and music, Bruce was already big, but there
was plenty of action at the beach musically and otherwise. I learned to
party, and parts  of Jersey was one big hang out, and have fun place.

My first lover was a rock musician. He played bass, and taught me all kinds
of ways to vibrate. Who needed to feel guilty over Terry, when I was now
sucking real cock. This guy would hump me good, and I loved every minute of
it. I don't think he ever learned my name. He always called me Pet. I was
his Pet all summer.

"Kurt are you okay?"

"Yes, Sash, I'm sorry I was just thinking." I had almost forgotten why I was
here.

"We're near Sam's, do you mind if I start to sing so Sam knows that I'm
waiting for him. You'll need to let me down."

"Sure sing if you can, it's pretty cold here isn't it"

"We won't stay in the caves too long."

I gently let Sash ease down on his good ankle. He was hardly dressed warm
enough for this place; I was starting to miss the bum's old coat. Sash
started to sing and his very voice warmed me up. I had forgotten just how
beautiful his voice was, strong, and sweet like honey melting all over
inside. He sang a song I had never heard before, in Latin or some ancient
language. I couldn't understand a word, yet somehow he expressed just how I
was feeling about Terry. He was singing to me, and everyone else that could
hear him, that life was wonderful. Even a few seconds of it, and in the
machine of time a few seconds and one hundred years were as one. I never had
heard anyone sing like Sascha.

Then he sang of sex. It must have been. My cock moved towards him as his
voice seduced me. How the hell could that boy do that? Anyway when he was
done a very old man stood besides us. I was so caught up in the last song
that I never saw where he appeared.

"Sascha, child you're back. Come with me. You must be starving."

"Sam, this is Kurt. He's my friend."

"If you're Sascha's friend you are my friend too, come."

He led us through part of the caves to a hidden entrance. It was the type of
place you never could find on your own, and it didn't seem like a real  at
all. It was a true deserted station, yet in the prime of the twenties as if
it had been suspended in time. To make matters even more surprising it led
to a grand hotel that had several floors in tact which were connected to the
station. The top had been demolished long ago and made into a city park; Sam
said as he led us into the lobby. What remained of the hotel was as grand as
the Waldorf Astoria, or the Plaza, yet the art deco was real, and it was
styled from what I imagined was the roaring twenties. My mouth gaped open as
I fewed this buried antique building. I knew I wasn't going back in time but
it felt like it.