Date: Sat, 11 Feb 2012 07:44:08 -0800
From: h.schreiber@hushmail.com
Subject: Chapter 26 of Rock and a Hard Place by Hans Schreiber
Warning! This story is a work of fiction written by a legal age adult. Any
similarity between the fictional characters and any live person is purely
coincidental. This story contains fictional descriptions of sexual activity
between consenting minor youth. If you are under the age of 18, and/or if
you are offended by this content, and/or if it is illegal in your
jurisdiction to possess or read such material, please leave now and do not
read this story as neither the internet host nor the author can be
responsible for your actions. Please, always practice safe sex; no
momentary thrill is worth your life.
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be transmitted or reproduced
in whole or in part in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and
retrieval system without the written permission of the Author or Publisher,
except where permitted by law. Copyright (c) 2012 by Hans Schreiber.
Special thanks to my editors, Pablo, Flip, Smallfox, and Lisa for their
valuable help and input.
Rock and a Hard Place
Chapter 26
This is Your Home
My mom looked like she'd been wrestling in the dirt with a
badger. Her blouse was torn, her scraped up arms had dried blood on them
and her hair was a mess. Behind her were three cops and my nurse. "What's
going on?" I asked.
"We have to get you out of here," my mom said. "I was at the house
gathering up some things when those gang boys showed up. I escaped out the
back door and climbed over the fence into the Harbaugh's yard." I
immediately figured out why she looked the way she did.
"Did Brutus mess you up?" I asked. Brutus is the Harbaugh's dog and
he's fiercely protective. If I ever lost a ball in their yard, I always
just waited for them to throw it back over the fence.
"Yes, it was horrifying. Thankfully, Katrina was home and called
Brutus off and I was able to call 911. Those filthy creeps vandalized the
house, stole what they easily could, and got away."
The news hit me like a ton of bricks. My first thought was how
lucky my mom was to get away. My second thought was how stupid I was to
think they were just going to overlook Renaldo's death. "I'm glad you're
safe." I said it sincerely. As infuriating as she was at times, she was
still my mom and I didn't want to see her get hurt, especially as a result
of something I had done. Then denial kicked back in. "Are you sure it
wasn't just a random robbery? You don't know it was the gang that did it,
maybe it's just a bad coincidence."
The young Officer Milsap spoke up. This time, he was apparently
fully informed. "It was definitely them. They painted their tags all over
your house. They painted obscenities and threats in your bedroom, all over
the walls. The most disturbing thing, and something we'd never seen them do
before, is leave a dead dog with its genitals all mutilated in your
bed. That leaves little doubt why they targeted you. An inside source tells
us that they know you're in here." It frightened me that the gang so easily
got into my gated neighborhood to trash our house. If they could do that,
they probably could get to me in here while a bored cop was napping outside
my room or something.
"Hurry and get dressed and we'll get you out of here, provided the
doctor says you're well enough to go," said a second cop. As he said that
the doctor rushed in. He asked everyone to stand back as he drew the
privacy curtain. He pulled down the covers and I pulled up my gown. He
inspected my damages, giving each ball a slight squeeze and asking if I
felt any pain. I told him they were more just tender and he nodded. He
stuck a thermometer thingy in my ear and when it beeped, he simply said,
"Good to go." The nurse was already working to remove my IV. When the
needle was out and the gauze was taped to my skin, she untied my gown for
me. I slipped on an athletic supporter that the doctor ordered with an
extra large pouch and then boxers over that before I removed my gown. I
pulled on the rest of the clothes they brought for me, athletic shorts and
an ugly yellow t-shirt. I only had the flip-flops from Juvey to wear on my
feet. They insisted I ride in a wheelchair and the friendly Officer Milsap
pushed me in it. The nurse gave my mom a bag of medicines along with
instructions, which I was sure were going in one ear and out the other. I
strained to listen and managed to hear "... for pain as needed." That was
all I cared about at the moment.
They took me out a back entrance to a waiting squad car and my mom
got in with me. We traveled mostly in silence about an hour and fifteen
minutes outside of town. The fields and orchards began giving way to aging
canneries and then modest housing tracts. We reached what appeared to be
the "historic" city center and turned onto Main Street. Two blocks after we
passed Campbell Christian Academy for Boys, which was next door to Campbell
Community Chapel, we came to the Campbell Village Apartments. I quickly
deduced that we were in Campbell, being the bright boy that I am. The
apartments were a bit run down but not trashy. They were typical beige
stucco, two story apartments with dark brown siding, four units to a
building. The architecture was unimaginative and dull. The cop walked with
us to the office where my mom got a duplicate set of keys. Hers were still
in her purse which had probably been stolen.
I was shocked to discover that I would be sleeping on a couch in the
living room with a small white dresser and the narrow coat closet to house
my clothing. At that point, it didn't really matter since I was wearing the
only clothes I owned. The single bedroom was my mother's. The cop was
talking with my mom when I excused myself to go pee. We shared a single
bathroom that contained a small tub/shower combination. The shower curtain
was decorated with brightly colored tropical fish. A jar of seashells sat
on the counter. I was surprised at the decor since my mom never really
liked the beach or the ocean.
The cop was gone when I came back out. My balls were sore and I
asked for some medication. My mother hurried to the kitchen and brought me
a pain pill along with an antibiotic and a glass of water. I thanked her
and she smiled as I gulped it all down. I sat on the couch that would
double as my bed and was pleased to see it was reasonably firm. "We're
safe here. You don't need to be frightened." Mom patted me on the bare
knee.
I moved my knee out of her reach and said unkindly, "I'm not
frightened. How long before I can go back with dad?"
She looked stricken. Her smile faded and the room darkened along
with her mood change. In reality the sun had just slipped behind a cloud,
but it gave the ominous effect. She rubbed her temples as if caressing a
throbbing headache. "You can make this difficult or you can make it easy,
but you cannot change being here." Then as an afterthought she
added. "You're probably in pain and people aren't themselves when they are
in pain. Are those pills effective for the pain?"
"Yes. But they make me tired." I couldn't read the look in her
eyes. It was almost a dazed, confused, subdued anger mixed with
fear. "You're right, we're safe here. I'll try," I said softly.
"Try what?" She asked rubbing her temples again.
"Try making it easier. But I still want to go back home as soon as
I can."
"Home? There is no more home. The gang you drug into our lives took
that away from us. It will be repaired and sold. Then, we will purchase a
house here in Campbell with our share of the proceeds. Kyle, this is your
home now. Here with me. Get used to it."
"No. No it isn't. I'm going back with Dad. He promised I wouldn't
have to leave my school or my friends even if you made us sell the house. I
don't care that much about the house, but I'm not giving up my friends and
wrestling. I'm not."
"We'll discuss it later when you're not in pain. I need to get
cleaned up and go help out at the church. You can settle in. I'll be back
around six o'clock to fix us some dinner." She stretched to pat me on the
knee before standing and heading to the kitchen. I stared, numb and a
little cold, at the blank wall across from the couch I was sitting on. I
didn't want this time with Mom to be a constant argument. I was stuck there
for a while and while I was, I needed to just make the best of it. Dad was
right to suggest I just roll with the punches until all this gang shit
blows over and I can go back with him. Maybe having them sell the house was
a good idea. I could move to a new place with Dad and it would be a fresh
start for me and him both. I was still undeniably angry with him for
sending me to Juvey, but in fairness, he was reacting to a bad situation
that was dropped on him, and it isn't like I've never made a bad decision
with good intentions before.
I got up and rounded the partition dividing the small kitchen from
the living room area as my mom tossed something into her mouth, tilted her
head back to swallow, and then washed whatever it was down with a glass of
water. When she recognized my presence, she jerked nervously, acting like
she was a guilty child caught with her hand in the cookie jar or
something. She recovered quickly and asked what I wanted.
"To apologize. I'll try and be nicer to you." She relaxed and
smiled.
"Good. Settle in and I'll be back for dinner." She patted my cheek
and flashed her artificial sweetener smile as she brushed past me and went
in to shower. I went back to the couch and sat down staring at the blank
wall and replaying the experiences of the past week. It was like a bad
movie. Forty-five minutes later, my mom came out of the bathroom and looked
fully put back together except for the skinned up arms. "See you at six,"
she said as she rushed out.
"How will you get there? You don't have a car." I asked.
"I'll just walk, it's not that far. You just relax and settle in
now." She pulled the door shut behind her.
"Settle in," I said out loud. I tried to figure out what that could
possibly mean. I had no clothes to unpack besides the crap I was
wearing. It looked like Mom probably just grabbed it all off the rack at
Wal-Mart in a rush while the cops followed her around. The sizes weren't
even right. I would have figured out how to use the television except there
wasn't one. For the lack of anything else to do, I looked in the
cupboards. There were a few dishes and mismatched cups. A small set of
silverware in one drawer, odds and ends utensils in another. I recognized
the dish towels and hot pads as coming from our old kitchen. Nothing was
fancy and I had the sense I was in a college student's pad. There were the
basic pots and pans. The pantry and the fridge were stocked well enough and
all the canned goods were sorted by type and in a perfect line, but there
was no teen type junk food at all. I didn't really mind because I was
determined to keep on weight for when I went back to my wrestling. I was
hoping for some low fat popcorn or some Triscuits or something, though. I
found a box of graham crackers and broke those open. Being gone from my
school so long would almost certainly eliminate my chances for State, but I
could go cheer Scotty on. Now that he was working with Dig's private coach,
I had no doubt he would make it.
I wandered to the solitary small bathroom and checked in the
cupboards in there. I was surprised to see that she had gotten me my own
deodorant, even if it was Old Spice, and even separate razors to shave
with. Pink ones for her legs, I supposed and green ones for me. I'd just
started shaving a little bit on the upper lip and was kind of proud of the
fact that I needed to. I thought that was uncharacteristically nice of her
to think of me like that. There was even a blue toothbrush hanging next to
my mom's pink one in the medicine cabinet. It all actually helped me feel
like maybe she really was sincere about wanting me to live with her. I
hadn't expected this at all.
The linen closet held towels and bed sheets along with extra toilet
paper and various cleaners. I expected to find some single sheets and
blankets I could use on the couch in there, but I guess she had overlooked
that detail. I didn't see an extra pillow either. I'd have to steal one off
my mom's bed and I hoped she had two. I couldn't stand to sleep without a
pillow. I stared at the closed bedroom door and shrugged. What the hell, I
was settling in, so I might as well see how my bachelorette mom lived and
see if she had an extra pillow. I opened the door and crept in. I chuckled
to myself as I realized I was sneaking around all nervous and tense in a
completely empty apartment and I relaxed. Everything was neatly
arranged. No surprise there. There were some pictures and knick knacks that
I recognized as coming from our house. In my mother's typical neat and
orderly fashion, the room was meticulously arranged.
I started to leave but my curiosity got the better of me. I walked
over to look in her dresser drawers. There on top of the dresser were two
pictures. One was of me, smiling brightly at the age of ten with my new
mountain bike I'd gotten for my birthday. It made me happy that she had a
picture of me there. The other picture annoyed me as it showed Reverend
Rick in his sharply tailored black suit, hugging my mother with one arm
while holding their opposite hands in front of them. The church I'd seen up
the street was in the background. They were looking at each other and
smiling like it was a posed photo from a high school formal. It struck me,
looking at it, that mom's smile appeared more genuine than the
Reverend's. I pulled myself away from the photo and snooped in her top left
drawer - bras and panties, neatly laid out. The top right drawer held a box
of various small tools, screwdrivers, a crescent wrench, small hammer and
some screws, nails and tacks. There were also assorted spare keys, pens and
pencils - basic drawer junk. There were two treasures in there, though - my
cell phone and wallet. I grabbed the phone and pressed the on button. The
battery was completely dead. I searched, but there was no charger to be
found. I tossed it back in the drawer. I checked my wallet and except for
the money, nothing else was missing from it. I assumed either the guards or
my mom had taken the cash. There was another shoe box in that drawer full
of greeting cards. I took it out and sat on the bed.
I started to tear up as I looked through them. It was probably every
birthday and Mother's Day card, I'd ever given to her and even a
Valentine's card or two I'd made as a small boy in grade school. It touched
me that she had kept them and that they were important enough to her that
she brought them with her. She'd brought relatively little with her when
she'd left. As I reached the bottom of the pile, I found an envelope that
was stuffed with cash - her emergency stash. I opened it and thumbed
through guessing it to be a couple thousand dollars. That left me wondering
if she only brought my cards because the money was in the box with them. I
chose to believe she wanted the cards.
She hadn't even brought many shoes with her when she left. Or so I
thought, because I remembered all the shoes still left behind in the closet
at our house. I'd never forget the high heel that jabbed me in the ass
while I was hiding in the closet from my dad. I put the box back and
thumbed through the stack of miscellaneous paperwork in the drawer. Nothing
interesting was there except for her copies of the divorce papers. I
glanced at them, but it was not really interesting and I put them
back. Maybe if I got really bored, I'd return and read through them. The
remaining drawers contained her other clothing, socks sorted by color, and
panty hose that I actually thought about trying on, just for kicks. I'd
always sort of wondered what they would feel like against my skin. I liked
silky feeling things. There were also scarves and belts.
It was what I found in the bottom right drawer that really chapped
my ass. It had men's boxers, dark socks, and a handful of ties in it. I
went to the closet and sure enough, there were a few men's white shirts and
black slacks. There were two pair of men's dress shoes and a ton of my
mom's shoes. She must have a real thing for shoes. Back in the drawer, I
picked up a pad of pills encased in plastic on a card and read the label -
Loestrin. There were 28 of them labeled Sunday through Saturday. My mother
was on birth control pills. The good Reverend was fucking my mother right
in the bed behind me. My blood came to a slow boil. I already knew it was
happening, I suppose. My father told me they had an affair going on when he
told me Mom was never coming back to us. I'd just chosen to believe an
affair meant they were dating, not fucking. I just couldn't let myself
think about that. I understood the photo on the dresser better now. I
recognized the smile on the Reverend's face. It was like the young stud at
the prom who knew he was gonna score for the first time later that
evening. That bastard was getting what my poor, pathetic father had been
denied and was only dreaming about when he fucked his pillows. I put the
pills back and shut the drawer with my foot.
I went back to the closet and continued snooping. I was dumb-struck
and frozen in place at what I saw on the shelf. It was a recognizable
filing box. I was awash in fresh embarrassment as I realized it hadn't been
my dad who came home and found the mess I'd left in my bedroom that day
when I left to go to the decorating committee meeting. It had been my
mother who had tidied up after my solo sex-capade with the dildo, making my
bed and confiscating the sex toys. "Shit. No wonder she drew the conclusion
I was fucking with Scotty. She found the messy dildo and then reading my
playful texting to him, she's putting it together." I stepped back and sat
on her bed, staring at the box. I didn't even become aware of my growing
erection until it was straining hard against the pouch in the jock
strap. Jocks are definitely not conducive to boners. I stood up and kicked
my flip-flops off, peeled off my shorts and boxers and then carefully
removed my jock strap. I pulled my shirt off and sat back on the bed, stark
naked. I took my throbbing dick in my hand and slowly stroked it,
contemplating my next action.
With trembling hands, I pulled the box off the shelf and carried it
into the living room. I set it on the small coffee table and locked the
front door. I opened the box and lifted out the long, thick, rubber replica
of a penis, complete with thick veins running over the exterior. I took out
the bottle of lube and noticed I was not the last to use it since it was
almost 3/4 gone. I took the object of my fascination from the box and
examined it with trembling hands. I'm not sure if I was trembling from
nerves or anticipation. I carried the toy to the bathroom and washed it
good and then dried it on the hand towel. Returning to the couch, I popped
the cap on the lube and spread the slippery, clear gel over the rubberized
dick. I rubbed some gel into the entry of my ass with my middle finger and
then pressed the tip against my clenching hole. I closed my eyes and the
first mental image to emerge was frightening. I saw Renaldo's face in
frustrated rage as he repeatedly tried to force his way into me. The second
image was better as I saw Dig's frustrated confusion while he pressed his
massive dickhead to my virgin hole. I lay there, still, frozen in space as
I had been in the cabin, wondering if he would go through with it. I pulled
the artificial penis away and Dig's image faded into Scotty's. I saw his
eyes. His beautiful green eyes were smiling into mine melting me into a
porous mass under his spell. I relaxed from head to toe and almost
imperceptibly, Scotty entered me slowly and steadily until he filled me up
and consumed me.
Then began the slow dance - a dance of love and infatuation. With
each long slow stroke, fresh waves of immeasurable pleasure coursed through
my body. Brilliant colors exploded behind my eyelids and music, soft and
low at first, rising steadily to the impending crescendo played in my
mind's ear. I lifted one leg to the top of the couch and the other heel
found the coffee table giving my imaginary lover access to drive deeper
into me, deep, deep into the depths of my body and soul. "Oh, Scotty," I
moaned over and over, "take me, fill me up."
The music was rising, the maestro whipped his baton about in wild
abandonment as I writhed about in splendid ecstasy, moaning louder and
louder until that moment of truth when fireworks exploded in my brain and
molten cum spread itself from my chin to my naval in explosion after
uncontrollable explosion. My ass quivered and clenched feverishly to the
impaling penis and I reached to press Scotty's thick red lips to mine only
to have my hand press into my own face. I cried out in agony as I opened my
eyes and realized, there was no Scotty. There was only me and my pathetic
phallic fantasies, no different than my poor father and his
fantasies. "Noooooo!" I cried out and ripped the plastic dick from my ass
all too quickly and threw it across the room. I winced at the pain, both
physical and emotional, and then brought my legs back together and curled
up on the couch, trembling and crying softly. "Oh God, I don't think I can
bear this anymore." I came to a decision right then and there that I was
going to the Fall Formal. Cinderfella was going to the ball, dammit. I
would be with my prince, Scotty. I would claim what he promised me and have
him inside me, holding me and filling me up. All I needed now was a fairy
God Father and a pumpkin to make it all happen.
I lay there a long time, alternately thinking too much and then
thinking too little. Confused thoughts wandered through my addled brain. At
length, I gathered up the dildo and washed it off in the bathroom sink
again. While I was in there, I checked the Old Spice deodorant and sure
enough, it was half used. On closer inspection, the men's razor already had
bits of leftover beard in it and the blue toothbrush's bristles were
crusty. I stared at the toothbrush, turning it around and around in my
fingers. I smiled wickedly and reached it around behind me and slipped it
up into my ass and back out again. I sniffed it, smiled wider, and hung it
back in its place. "So Reverend, you wanna be my male role model and fuck
my mother at the same time? Well, you can just kiss my ass."
I put the box back together and placed it back on the shelf in the
closet. I supposed what I had just done probably counted as "settling in."
I dressed in my only set of "new" clothes and went for a pain pill. I
swallowed it, and went back into my mom's bedroom for one last check that
I'd put everything back the way I'd found it and closed her door. I still
had a couple hours to go before Mom would be home. I wondered if she was
really working at the church or getting worked on at the church. The
thought disgusted me and I forced myself not to think about it any longer.
For the lack of anything else to do, I walked down to the center
court area. Four rows of apartments surrounded a small pool area with some
grass and a picnic table next to it. There was a broken barbecue grill next
to the table. The pool was too small to be useful for laps. It was more or
less a kiddies' splash pool. But there was a hot tub next to it that would
fit maybe five or six people. I thought I could put that to use once my
balls healed up. It was a little chilly and I rubbed my arms against the
afternoon breeze. I suddenly had a good idea and headed back up to the
apartment. I found the bag of stuff I brought from the hospital, including
my urinal bottle. Why they sent that home with me, I had no idea. I found
the book about Corrie ten Boom that I'd been reading and a lightweight
blanket and carried them back down by the pool. I lay in the afternoon
sunshine that was warm enough, with the small blanket draped over me, to be
comfortable. I was in one of two lounge chairs near the pool. I chose the
least broken one.
I started reading and was so engrossed in the book that I barely
noticed the increased activity around me. Latch-keys were coming home from
school and passing through the center court giving hard, curious stares in
my direction. Only rarely did I look up and catch one of them. When I did,
they quickly looked away and scurried off, clearly afraid of the stranger
in their domain. As I finished the book, tears were trickling down my
cheeks. I was overwhelmed at the power of this magnificent book. I would
never forget Corrie's description of meeting one of her guards after a
speaking engagement, years after the war was over. She wrote how she
remembered him and how he had been a particularly cruel guard. He asked for
her forgiveness. She wrote that she didn't think she was capable of it. She
wrote about how she reached out after a long pause and taking the hand he
had extended, "For a long moment we grasped each other's hands, the former
guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God's love so intensely as
I did then." Just thinking about that caused the familiar warmth of God's
love to course through me again, even as it had done when I'd read it.
I held the book in my hands, staring at it and thinking about all
the wisdom and courage it contained. I thought about the deep and abiding
faith and the unbelievable capacity for good and evil that the people
within its pages had displayed. How could she have forgiven him? How could
she overcome so much? How could people be so cruel to their fellow
travelers here on earth? How could God's love overcome all that hate and
anger? How could they express thanks to God, who allowed it all to happen?
I thought about a passage where Corrie's sister Betsie, who did not survive
the concentration camp, expressed thanks for the biting fleas. When Corrie
scolded her for such a ridiculous thing as that, Betsie replied that it was
those very fleas that kept the guards out of the bunkhouse giving them a
break from their cruel treatment. How could Corrie forgive that guard?
Suddenly, I became aware of being stared at. A boy, about my age and
dressed in a white polo shirt and blue Dickies, had his forearms leaning
between the iron spires of the pool fence and was staring intently at me. I
stared back at the thin waif with jet black hair and immediately noticed a
pencil thin dusting of a mustache on his upper lip. His skin was pale like
William's and contrasted with his black hair just as William's did. He was
not as tall and certainly didn't resemble William in the face, but somehow
his presence reminded me of my friend. I met his gaze and he spoke to me in
a shockingly deep voice that did not match his slight frame. "Are you okay?
You're crying."
Embarrassed at that, I quickly wiped my eyes on the sleeves of my
t-shirt. "I'm fine. I was just reading an emotional book. Thanks for
asking, though."
"I'm Justin," he boomed out. "I live here."
"I'm Kyle. I just moved here with my mom."
"That's cool. See you around then, I guess." He pushed off the fence
with his arms, saluted me and sprinted up a flight of stairs, disappearing
like an apparition. I stood, folded the blanket and walked gingerly up the
stairs to our apartment. I swallowed another pain pill and spread myself
out on the couch using the folded blanket for a makeshift pillow. I drifted
off to sleep until I was awakened by my mother returning home as she had
promised to do right at six.
I got up to pee, washed my hands and went to the kitchen to see if I
could help. Mom was just finishing up heating some tomato soup mixed with
milk instead of water to make it creamier, just the way I like it, and was
also making me a grilled cheese and tuna sandwich. I set the table, and
then I got in the fridge and pulled out some pickles, fruit cocktail and
coleslaw. I put ice in cups and filled them up with water. I picked up the
can and asked, "So is this shi ... shtuff made here in Campbell?"
"I don't think so, dear." I read the label. It wasn't. It's made in
New Jersey. That's a long way from Campbell, California.
We sat together and Mom asked for my hands. She took my hands in
hers and spoke a perfunctory grace over the meal. "So how'd things go at
the church?" I asked. I watched her reaction for any trace of guilt. There
was none I could detect.
"Fine. We have so much to do to prepare for tomorrow night."
"What's going on tomorrow night?"
"Oh, it's so exciting. Reverend Rick is taping his first local cable
prayer service. It'll be aired on Sunday evening. We have to have the
chapel all cleaned up and they are building platforms for the cameras. I
sewed his new, blue velvet, preacher robe and was fitting him for it, among
other things."
"Oh cool. Like what other things?" I took a bite of my sandwich and
let my eyes bore into her. She remained completely nonplussed and talked
about hanging the newly cleaned drapes and helping arrange the stands where
the fresh flowers would be placed.
"I heard preachers go naked under those robes. Is that true?" I
stuffed another bite of tuna and cheese into my mouth to keep from
snickering.
"Goodness, no! Maybe that Pastor Morgan does something disgusting
like that, but Reverend Rick wears a conservative black suit."
"Hmm. Guess I was told wrong. So he wasn't naked today when you were
checking to see if he fit?"
"Heavens no. I swear, what strange notions those public school boys
have put into your head. What did you do while I was gone by the way? Did
you sleep the whole time?"
"No, I went down by the pool and read my book. I finished it. Oh,
and I met a kid my age who lives here. His name's Justin."
"Oh, that's nice I suppose. Did the two of you chat and get to know
each other?"
"No, he just introduced himself and then disappeared into the
apartment building next door."
"Is that all you did while I was gone?" Mom was turning the tables
on me and I didn't like it. I started to wonder if she had the place bugged
or something.
"Pretty much, yeah. So why don't you have a TV in here?" I asked
hoping to move the subject away from me.
"I haven't had a need for one but now that Rick ... er, Reverend
Rick is going to be on cable, I need to get one." Mom stared at me almost
dreamily and I knew it wasn't me she was thinking about. She was really
under this Reverend Rick asshole's spell.
"Good, because it could get really boring here without friends,
sports or my computer. Something else I need is something to wear. I can't
wear this every day. Any plans about that?"
"Your school clothes are already in your closet, but I guess you
will need some casual clothes. We can go to Wal-Mart after we clean up
here."
"Seriously? Wal-Mart? You shop at Wal-Mart? Since when? If it wasn't
Nordstrom's or Macy's you wouldn't even step foot in the door before. And
besides we don't have a car, remember?" I was stunned.
"The maintenance man lives in building A, and he offered to let me
use his truck until I either get my car back or can rent one. As for
Nordstrom's and Macy's, Reverend Rick has helped me to overcome the ways of
my materialistic lifestyle. He has helped me come to understand the
importance of using our resources for the benefit of man and spreading the
word of the Lord to the world. This cable show is just the first step in a
bright future for us. Someday, we will be on AGN spreading the word and
we'll build schools and hospitals in Africa. We can send missionaries all
over the world to spread Christianity and goodwill. He has big plans for
rehab centers for the weak minded like druggies and gays and plans to help
the homeless get back to work and change their lives. It'll be just like
Reverend Rick says, 'Clovis, we will be tools in God's hands. We're just a
couple of wide mouth shovels for God to use in shoveling people out from
underneath their personal dung heaps of sin.'"
I stared dumbfounded and wide-eyed at my mother. I held a spoonful
of New Jersey Tomato soup partially en-route to my gaping mouth. My jaw had
dropped steadily as she rambled on until it had fallen as far as it could
go. I returned the spoon to the bowl and would have laughed out loud had I
just witnessed that little speech on a sitcom, but in real life, coming
from my real mother, it was not the least bit funny. "So, have you been
giving all the money that you've been getting from Dad to Reverend Rick?" I
already guessed the answer. "Holy shit."
"Kyle, watch your language. He needs it to further his work. I'm
anxious for you to meet him."
"I've met him already. He used to come over to the house with all
your pho ... I mean all your charities he got you involved in."
"Well of course you've met him that way, but I mean to really meet
him and talk to him and understand the calling within him. You won't
believe how wonderful he is when you really get to know him on a personal
level like have." My mom glazed over again.
"I bet you're right about that. I probably won't be able to believe
how wonderful he is and I definitely don't want to get to know him on the
same level as you have." I shoveled the remaining soup into my mouth and
wondered just how wide mouthed the shovel would need to be to shovel all
the shit off of me. It sounded like I was in for a real experience. I
cleared the table, rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. I
walked over to the narrow coat closet and opened the door. There were five
pair of navy blue Dickies pants and five white polo shirts. There was a
pair of no name, black, tennis shoes. I checked my drawers and found two
packages of plain white boxer shorts and a jumbo pack of black crew socks
and one black belt with a silver buckle. The shirts had a crest over the
left breast, with Calligraphy lettering - CCA. I groaned audibly and shut
the door.
"Can we go to Wal-Mart now?" I asked. "Oh, and hey, I'll need a suit
for going to church on Sunday. How about a nice black one like Ricky
wears?"
"Do NOT disrespect the Reverend by calling him Ricky. You will
address him as Reverend or as Reverend Rick, do you understand?" My mom was
suddenly fuming and rubbing her temples again.
"Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. But can I get a suit?"
"No you may not. The youth in the church don't wear suits to
church. We'll purchase you some suitable casual clothing that can be worn
to church." I'll be damned if I didn't just lose out on my dress for the
ball. How was I going to meet my prince at the ball without a suit? I'd
never get into a Fall Formal in blue Dickies and a white polo.
The trip to Wal-Mart was humorous. The maintenance truck was an old
Dodge ram and the brakes were really sensitive. Mom almost launched us
through the windshield at every stop sign. When we got there, things got
worse. I argued over nearly everything Mom picked out and she grumbled over
everything I picked out. In the end, I wound up with some passable running
shorts, running shoes, ankle socks, a half dozen t-shirts that weren't
completely God-awful, some jeans and some chinos like William liked to
wear. I got a couple of collared shirts to wear to church and that was
it. The best discovery was finding some full support boxer briefs that
could double as the jock and the underwear. One other treasure was two
paperback novels I could read to keep from going bonkers without a TV or
computer. Sadly, the Wal-Mart was much too far away to walk to and there
wasn't really any other places we passed that would sell a suit. I felt
despondent. That night I lay awake pondering my situation. I thought about
appealing to Reverend Rick and leveling with him about my desire to go to
one last event at my old school and say my goodbyes. If it was his idea,
Mom would surely buy into it. I fell asleep with that happy thought on my
mind.
The next morning, I woke up with kinks in places I didn't even know
existed. The couch made a very poor bed. I stretched and pushed off what
little of my bedding wasn't already on the floor. I trotted to the bathroom
to find it locked. "Mom, are you in there?" I heard retching. "Mom, are you
okay?" More retching, then gasping breaths and finally her weak voice.
"Yes, I don't feel very well. Do you need in?" More retching.
"No, I'm fine, but are you sure you don't need my help or
something?" I asked.
"No."
I went to the hospital bag and retrieved the urine bottle and was
suddenly thankful for it. I dropped my shorts and jock/boxers and began
filling it up. It was a great relief. I capped it and set it by the couch
until I could dump it. I folded my bedding and put it back in the linen
closet in the hallway. This would obviously become a daily ritual for me,
making and unmaking my makeshift bed.
Finally, my mom emerged from the bathroom rubbing her temples. "Are
you gonna be all right?" I asked with genuine concern.
"Yes, this comes on me sometimes. It passes though. Just really bad
migraines." I felt for her. I'd heard that migraine headaches were brutal.
I emptied my urine bottle, took a sponge bath since I couldn't yet
shower and then I fixed some oatmeal for myself. My mom went back to her
bed and lay down. I cleaned up the kitchen and dressed in a pair of jeans
and a t-shirt and walked outside. I really wished I could go for a triple
J, but my balls couldn't handle running yet. I supposed I would take care
of the jiggle part whenever my mom left the house. I'd just barely sat down
in the pool chair when Justin bounded down the metal stairs. He stopped and
snapped to attention before saluting me. "You're up early. Umm, Kyle,
right?"
"That's me. And you are Justin."
"Yes sir."
"Hey do you go to the Christian boys' school?" I asked noticing the
emblem on his shirt.
"Yes sir, good old C-CAB. If I don't get going, I'll be late," he
said, saluting again.
"Oh, okay. Well maybe when you get home we can hang out a little,
get acquainted." I asked hopefully desperate for someone besides my mother
to talk to.
"I'll be home at 1500 hours. See you then." He smiled, if you could
call it that. One side of his lips turned up and the other side drew into a
downward pull. Both of his eyes lit up, though.
"Cool." I watched him jog off toward the street and make the turn
onto the sidewalk. "Interesting character," I mumbled. No one else was even
remotely close to my age, but several little kids pointed and whispered to
their mothers or other caregivers about me as they left for school or
daycare.
Not too long after the school crowd was gone, my mother came down
looking as well as her usual self. "You feeling better?"
"Yes, much. Thank you. I'm headed off to the church to help get
ready for tonight's taping. I might be a while. Can you fix your own
lunch?" she asked.
"Sure, but how about I come along and help?" I wanted a chance to
get Reverend Rick's ear and work some of my charm on him. I went down in
flames, though, when my mom wouldn't let me go with her.
"No, you're not up to it yet. Just stay here, relax and heal. It is
a time for physical healing now, spiritual healing later." She gave me the
patented smile and headed for the street. I sighed and watched the sun
slowly rise over the apartment roof, behind some puffy white clouds.
I took a leisurely walk around the block. It was a lower middle
class area with lots of apartment complexes. All were as nondescript as
ours. One was called the Family Apartments, a place for kids and their
parents it advertised. I could see a small tot-lot playground between the
buildings. I was glad we didn't live there. I returned and was thirsty, so
I went upstairs for a drink. I had just gotten a tall glass of water,
retrieved the toy box from my mother's closet, stripped naked and settled
in on the couch when a firm knock came at the door. I peered out the
peephole and saw Officer Milsap and his partner. "Just a minute," I
called. I quickly closed the toy box lid, pulled on my clothes and went to
the door.
I opened the door and invited them in. "What's up?"
He carried in two large black trash bags. "There's more in the car
downstairs. We recovered your mother's car and everything she put in
it. Amazingly, they left the garage untouched. I have a list of it all. I
need your mother to verify and sign off for it. Where is she?"
"She's at the church, up the street. I'd call her but I don't have a
cell phone."
"You're here alone without a phone? That's a horrible idea. Does she
not understand how dangerous the people are that want to get at you? Come
get in our squad car and take me to her." I followed Officer Milsap to the
parking area. One of the cops must have driven it out to us, and I was
struck by how out of place Mom's new Audi looked in the carport amidst the
older model Fords, Civics and beat up mini-vans. It punctuated my own
feelings of not belonging. I directed Officer Milsap to the church and I
could tell from the body language that Mom didn't like the way the nice cop
was talking to her about being irresponsible and leaving me without a cell
phone. She signed the paper and walked over to me.
I stepped out of the cop car and everyone was staring at us, of
course. I could feel my mother's acute sense of embarrassment spilling
over. "Sweetie, I didn't think about the risk of you not having a
phone. I'll get your phone back to you as soon as I come home. I need about
another hour here. Can you be a sweet thing and check all the contents on
the policeman's list for me?"
I started to say that I could just get it myself, but luckily held
my tongue. I certainly didn't want her to know I'd been snooping in her
room. "Sure Mom. Be glad to. But what about a charger for it?"
"I don't know. I can't think of everything. You figure that part
out. I'll see you in an hour." She snapped around and rushed off in a
huff. Officer Milsap and I just sort of shrugged our shoulders and headed
back to the apartments.
When we unloaded the car, I was ecstatic. There was my black suit
and a white shirt, but no shoes. There was my laptop, backpack, some
bedding and towels, some other clothes of mine, my iPod and even
Mr. Giggles' look alike. I sat the big monkey in the corner of the living
room and started to hang up the suit. Then, I decided instead to cover the
suit with one of the large plastic trash bags and hide it under the
couch. No sense taking any chances. When I had opened everything Officer
Milsap had brought to us, it felt like Christmas when the last package was
opened. You hoped for more but knew it was wrong to do so. I was very happy
with all that I had gotten. I was only really upset by the lack of my
trinkets. Things I'd collected over the years and things people had given
me. I twisted the Screw Crew mood ring on my finger - things like that I
would miss.
Officer Milsap's partner headed out to the squad car while I signed
the list underneath my mother's name after checking everything off. Before
Officer Milsap left, I couldn't resist giving him a giant hug. "You don't
even know how happy I am to get all this stuff back. He was completely
taken off guard by it, I could tell. I told him, "You're like my Fairy God
Father." He wrinkled his brow and then laughed a bit.
"Glad I made you happy kid. Be careful, all right?" He stepped
backward and tripped over the toy box. It fell over and spilled its
contents as he hop-stepped over them. He looked down in clear surprise,
uncertain what to say or do. I stood there staring equally dumbfounded,
until I found my voice and attempted to make a joke out of it. "I didn't
see that on the list. Did you?"
"No, kid," he said. "How about you add it. I gotta go." Before he
left the doorway, he stopped and turned around. He pulled a card from his
shirt pocket and handed it to me. "That's my phone number. If you got an
emergency call 911, but if you ever just have a question or need to talk,
call me. My partner and I actually live here in Campbell."
I rotated the card in my hand and wondered why he would do that.
Looking at the time, I rushed downstairs and sat in the wobbly, pool deck
chair so I wouldn't miss Justin. He marched around the corner right on time
- 1500 hours.