Date: Mon, 28 May 2001 14:30:43 -0400
From: C. E. Jordan <c.e._Jordan@MailAndNews.com>
Subject: THE VILLAGE BOY 3

The Village Boy - III
Copyright c.e._jordan@mailandnews.com


    Jeremy drew near me and slipped his hand into mine once more, "You wanna
come in Charles?...We got coke...and Pizza.....". That hand was beginning to
feel very comfortable in mine, but I glanced uncertainly at his mother
wondering if she noticed any of this. Her eyes, blue--and pale as the rest of
her, blinked, and I knew she saw the way we touched.

    Eliza nodded slowly, "Yes Charles, why don't you come in for awhile."  And
she led us down the narrow pathway of flat stones to four steps which
descended to their basement apartment. I noticed for the first time she was
barefoot. Small and fragile, it was still hard to believe that Eliza was old
enough to be Jeremy's mother.


					  to be continued....

                                  ****

The Village Boy
Copyright c.e. jordan


     The apartment was neat, tiny, but comfortable. It was more or less, one
long room with a shower and toilet, plus a closet-sized bedroom for Eliza.
Jeremy, I found out, slept on the over-stuffed sofa which divided the kitchen
from the living area. We sat around a small table in the bright yellow kitchen
eating hot pizza.

     "Mom, may I have some more coke please?" asked Jeremy,

     "Sure, baby." Eliza turned to get the drink, but as she passed behind
Jeremy, a funny surprised expression flashed across her face. Her son didn't
see her lean gasping in pain against the wall for a moment. I stood up
concerned. But she quickly put her finger to her lips in a `shush' sign and
shook her head. Obviously, she didn't want Jer to know about whatever was
bothering her.

     Jeremy was looking at me, probably wondering what made me stand up so
suddenly, "You wanted something Charles?"

     "Uh....naw...I was gonna get another piece of pizza, but I changed my
mind."

     By this time his mother was back at the table, "Baby, do you mind running
to the corner store for another Coke please, we're all out."

     "Aww, mom...." Jeremy whined a bit, but snatched up the two bucks and was
on his way, "I'll be right back Charles, okay?" And I was suddenly alone with
his woman-child mother. There was a awkward moment of uncomfortable silence
until I blurted, "Are you ill Eliza?"

     She looked at me quietly for a heartbeat, then asked her own question
while ignoring mine. "Do you love my son Charles?"

     I was totally rattled by her unexpected directness. What did she mean?
What kind of love was she talking about? "I....I...of course I love Jeremy,
he's a really nice boy..."

     "That wasn't what I asked you, I'm his mother, I know he's a nice
boy...he's also a very beautiful boy. I'm not blind--not yet. I see the way
you look at each other and how he touches you...so Charles, do you love him?"

     I sighed, "Yes, I do....very much."

     Eliza sagged tiredly back into her chair, "Charles, Jeremy was born when
I was his age--just fourteen....his father was Native American and only a year
older. When he found out about the baby, he got scared I guess, so he took
off, and I haven't seen him since. After Jeremy was born I got so much grief
from my family, I took off myself, trying to get as far away as
possible...life wasn't easy...it still isn't easy..and it's going to get a lot
worse...for Jeremy."

     "What do you mean?"

     "Well...in answer to your original question...no, I'm not doing too
good...I'm not gonna be around for my tweny-ninth birthday and I don't know
what will happen to my baby....he doesn't have anyone but me and I can't see
him fending for himself."

     I was stunned, to put it mildly. Eliza's face crumpled and I couldn't
help it, I went around the table and held her delicate body in my arms, doing
my best to comfort her. At which point Jeremy came bounding back into the
room. His sneakers literally screeched against the old linoleum-covered floor
as he came to a sudden halt. I could only imagine how this scene looked to
him. There I was, supposedly his new loving friend holding his mom in my arms.
Jer looked back and forth from me to his mom and back again. A couple of
emotions flickered across his face, mainly confusion, and what appeared to be
jealousy, "Hey! What's goin' on here....?"

     "Your mother's not feeling too well Jeremy, I was just helping her a
bit," I blurted out.

     "It's nothing baby, just a stomach cramp. I must have eaten too much
pizza too damned fast..." She laughed uncertainly. Now Jeremy's only
expression was one of concern. He put down the brown paper-bag containing the
Coca Cola and came around the table to where we were.

     "You know Mom, I noticed you been getting sick a lot lately...maybe you
should go back to the free-clinic on Monday..."

     "Oh...you worry too much baby.' Eliza kissed her son lightly on the
forehead as she poured dark sparkling liquid into a glass from the new bottle
of soda.

     Eliza and I never had a chance to talk about what exactly was wrong with
her before the boy returned home, so I jumped in, "Perhaps Jer's right...you
should get a really good check up." And ignoring her pointed `cease and
desist' looks, I plunged on, "Here's my card Eliza, call me tomorrow and I'll
set up something in a proper institution--not the free clinic...and please
don't worry about money, okay? I've got more than I can spend in a lifetime."

    The boy and his mother both blinked and stared at me curiously. And at
that moment, I could see how much they actually resembled each other; the oval
shape of their faces, full wet-looking lips always slightly parted. But where
his mom was all pale light, Jeremy was darker. I didn't intend to let slip
that infomation about my wealth, as it was something I normally hid. But it
was true, nevertheless. My family had lots of money. But I'd made even more of
my own as the wildly successful male writer behind an endless number of
embarassing `bodice ripper' romance and gothic novels. For those I used a
variety of female `nom de plumes'. I was also a very successful--and very
expensive portrait painter.

     Eliza was beginning to appear fluttery and vague again, it seemed she
couldn't decide whether to toss the remaining pizza into the garbage or put it
into their little refrigerator. Jer took it from her and put it in the
`fridge.

     "I have to go now...but I want you to call me tomorrow Eliza, don't
forget." As I rose to leave she refocused, "Yeah, I'll call tomorrow Charles,
we do have a lot to discuss, don't we...." She was watching Jeremy as he came
to my side and reached for my hand again.

     "Mom, I wanna walk with Charles to the subway........may I? ....Pleeeeze
mom?"

     "Alright, just come right back home, it's getting late."


				   ****

			     (to be continued)