Date: Fri, 29 Mar 2002 11:34:44 -0000
From: shakes d <shakes003@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Taking of Jakob (Part 2)--beginnings

	"MATTHEWS, SNAP OUT OF IT!"  I looked up out of my daze to find the
angry face of the shop foreman-my boss, glaring at me.  I slowly nodded and
turned back to my machine, and heard the sound of his pounding work boots
fade as he headed back towards the front office of the shop.  I was
surprised he let in that easily.  I've come to work with my share of
hangovers and colds and flues, and you name it, and had him riding my ass
and barking obscenities at me the whole day.  Maybe he knew it was
something serious.  Maybe he knew enough to leave me the hell alone today.
Maybe he had better things to do and really didn't give a shit about my
problems.  Man, this blue-collar job sucks, and so does he.



	I was running on empty before I even left for work.  It might have
been shock or something-most of the night I laid there with Jakob pressed
up against me, his arms wrapped around me, and it was as though the whole
evening's events hit me like a ton of bricks.  I knew what had taken place,
but I was shaken with disbelief when I finally found the words for it.
Jakob had been raped.  How did it happen, and who was responsible?

	I tried to focus on the sound of his breathing in hopes that I
would drift off eventually, but that turned out to be feeble.  I couldn't
get the image of him curled up naked and covered in a bloody mess, out of
my memory.  My mind was racing back and forth between the images of him
lying there, and the guilt that I may have done the wrong thing.

	`I should have got him to the hospital.  No, no he didn't want
that.  He was begging me not to-I did the right thing.  But what if there's
damage-internally?  Is that possible?  I don't know.  No, he seemed okay
that way-he would have said something.  Oh, my God-what the hell happened?'
I absentmindedly played with one of his hands while my mind continued to
race.

	Eventually I must have fallen asleep, although I don't recall what
time it was.  The alarm clock shrieked it's battle cry at 6 am, and I
seriously considered throwing it against the wall in hopes that it would
break into thousands of pieces.  Instead, I just turned it off and slowly
rolled over to look at Jakob.  He was asleep and oblivious to the previous
blaring of the alarm-still looking surprisingly peaceful underneath the
fresh bruises I noticed that must have surfaced during his sleep, most
noticeably the ones on his wrists, and ones that were all around his neck.

	"Fuckin' Christ."  I sighed in a quiet rage, under my breath while
my finger gently followed the pattern of bruises on his neck.  Jakob didn't
move or make a sound.  I was half in denial when I managed enough energy to
drag myself out of bed.  I quickly showered and changed, ditched my usual
morning ritual of reading the newspaper and chugging coffee, and decided to
leave for work early.  I couldn't think about this.  I didn't want to think
about this.  It was all I thought about.



	At 4 o'clock, I walked out of the shop and towards my Monte Carlo
in a daze.  It was a Friday afternoon, and the guys were going out to the
bars for a night of heavy consumption of alcohol and most likely women.
They laughed and snickered, making comments like "Bryan musta got himself a
ball and chain" when I refused to take part in the regular routine of
fraternizing.  I made no reply, only numbly slumped into my car and headed
for home.

	When I walked in the front door, the house was still, and it was
almost as if I had lost my hearing suddenly.  It was so quiet.  I took off
my work boots, hung my jacket at the landing, and proceeded upstairs to my
bedroom to check on Jakob.  When I stuck my head through the door, I was
startled when I didn't find him in my bed.

	"Jakob?"  I called into the room, but gathered no response.
"Jakob?"  I turned and called down the hallway, but never heard any reply.
The house remained deathly quiet.  I walked throughout the house calling
for him, but found the house was empty.  When I started my way back
upstairs after searching the basement, I could see him through the glass
door, sitting outside on the deck off of the kitchen.  My mind was overcome
with a sense of relief.  I sighed and headed towards the deck.

	I studied him through the door before I opened it to see how he was
doing.  He was still wearing my T-shirt and my pajama bottoms-both
appearing as though they were 2 or 3 sizes too big for his body and his
hair was wildly disheveled, appearing to be curlier than it truly was.  He
was sitting on the edge of the steps that lead into the hot tub I bought
last fall, with one hand resting on his lap, and the other hand resting on
a glass that was filled with a dark amber liquid.  I noticed the half-empty
bottle at his feet.

	"Hey kiddo, what's up?" I asked as I opened the door leading on to
the deck.  Jakob's back was turned to me, and he must not have noticed me
staring at him before.  He jumped a little, and looked at me with a
startled expression when I spoke to him.  He then began to stare at me
blankly as I approached him, not saying a word.

	"Whatcha doin' out here, Jakey?"  I softly asked as I gently placed
my hand on his shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.  Jakob, not making a
sound brought the glass to his lips and swallowed its contents.  He winced
and clenched his jaw tightly as he slightly bent down to place the now
empty glass beside the bottle that was at his feet.  He let out a deep
breath when he returned to his original position.

	"That bottle was full last time I looked."  I commented as I nodded
towards his feet.  "You polish that off yourself today?"  I searched the
emptiness in Jakob's eyes for an answer, but found nothing.  He remained
quiet and emotionless, staring out into the back yard.

	I'd never seen Jakob's eyes when they weren't dancing with light,
and to see him so flat with no expression upon his face was ripping me
apart.  It was as though I was looking at a stranger, and I fought wildly
not to get emotional.  I slowly knelt down and gently placed a hand on his
knee.  Jakob's body stiffened, and he drew in a sharp breath before closing
his eyes.  I had made him uncomfortable.  I immediately took my hand off of
his knee and placed it on the step beside his legs.

	"Talk to me, kid."  I pleaded.  I couldn't stand to see him like
this.  I wanted my Jakob back-my gorgeous, sexy, innocent (to the point
where his face would burn red when I'd talk about what I was going to do
with the next chick I'd pick up at the bar), friend who's eyes laughed and
danced and were full of life.  Jakob looked so much older than 18 to me
now.  His battle scars showing on his face and in his eyes even without the
help of the bruises and cuts. I felt utterly helpless.

	"Please don't tell anyone."  Jakob barely whispered.  He opened his
eyes and looked straight at me, emotionless, expressionless.

	"I wouldn't do that, Jakob."  I stated firmly, and after a moment's
hesitation he nodded his agreement, and then stared out into the backyard
again.  We sat like this for probably half an hour, with the inevitable
question hanging over our heads like a cloud of rain.  He offered no
information on his own, and I didn't want to push him too far-to alienate
him, but at the same time I wanted to know.  I needed to know.

	"Jakob, what happened last night?  Who did this to you, kid?"  My
hand went back to rest on his knee, and although his body didn't push me
away, his eyes became shifty, almost as though he was fighting back the
urge to cry.  He looked up to the sky while he shook his head, and tears
eventually flowed down his cheeks.  I feared what he was going to say.

	"It's my fault, Bryan.  I'm so fuckin' stupid."  He started, but
then broke down sobbing.  I got to my feet, and gently urged his face to
lean against my belly, wanting him to shed his tears onto me-as if
symbolically it would absorb his pain.

	"Shhh, don't you dare talk like that.  It wasn't your fault and you
are not stupid."  I whispered while my hands were stroking his thick black
locks.  Jakob was clinging to me while he sobbed onto my shirt.

"I couldn't get him off of me, Bry."  He choked the words out.  I felt as
though I had a chunk of ice in my stomach, and I almost debated whether to
pass out or to throw up.  I sat down on the step beside Jakob, and looked
at him intently while I was fussing with his messy hair.  He stared at me,
as though waiting for an answer, when I had none.  I nodded, and Jakob
buried his face in my neck and finished crying.  We sat on the step of the
hot tub in silence, my arm around his shoulders, and his face buried in my
neck.  We sat in silence for probably an hour, when Jakob finally sat up.

	"You please pour me another?" He pointed at the bottle by his feet.
I looked at the bottle, and then at him and gave him a half-grin.

	"You don't think half a bottle is enough?"  I tried not to make
light of the situation, but Jakob just isn't known for drinking.  He was
only 18, and just starting to explore what life had to offer before this
happened.  To some, 18 might seem old, but when you're 25 like me-I guess
it depends.

	"I hurt everywhere.  I just wanna stop hurting."  Jakob commented
and he flinched slightly when I tightened my arm around him.  I gave a
quick sigh and then poured the glass half-full of whiskey.  I handed him
the glass and then went back inside the house with the bottle to return it
to it's proper home.  When I returned, his glass was empty, and Jakob was
breathing deeply with his eyes closed.

	"I can't get up."  He looked at me, signaling me for help.  I
walked over to him, wrapped one of his arms around my neck while I wrapped
one of my arms around his waist, and eased him into a standing position.
At first, I thought he couldn't get up because of his injuries, and
although that had much to do with his immobility, the whiskey had really
helped knock him on his ass.  I helped Jakob to his bedroom-to his own bed,
and helped him get settled.

	"Get some rest, kiddo."  I softly commanded, and messed up the mop
on top of his head.

	"Thanks, Bryan."  He mumbled drowsily, and I left him to sleep.

	It was a boring evening, and not having much of an appetite, I had
decided on a bag of Doritos and a few beers as my main course for supper.
I went down into the basement that was finally renovated last year, and sat
down to the big screen to flip absently through the channels.  After a
couple of hours and my mind being elsewhere, I swallowed the last of my
beer, turned off the TV and decided to head for bed.  On my way to my
bedroom, I heard quiet snoring coming from Jakob's room, and grinned
wholeheartedly.

	I turned on the light as I closed my bedroom door behind me, and
immediately began to shed myself of my clothing.  I turned to face the
full-length mirror, and realized how little sleep I had gotten the night
previous.  My eyes had definite circles around them, and it dawned on me
that I had forgotten to shave in the morning.  I sighed and frowned in
spite of myself, and turned the light off.  In the darkness I crawled under
the cool blankets of my bed, and quickly fell asleep as I rolled to my
side, and let my head greet my pillow.



	I was running down a dark, endless hallway, searching aimlessly for
Jakob who was screaming for my help at the top of his lungs.  I was
running, trying to follow the sound of his voice, but the closer I seemed
to get to his voice, the farther away he actually was.  I could hear him
weeping, and begging for my help, but I couldn't reach him no matter how
fast I ran, or how hard I tried.  He screamed my name over and over again-a
voice screaming in agony.  I couldn't find him.  My body was sweating
profusely, my heart racing.  I was getting nowhere.

	I jolted up in my bed into a sitting position, and tried to catch
my breath.  `It was just a bad dream,' I told myself over and over, until
it hit me that it wasn't a dream.  I felt hot tears sliding down my face,
and I inhaled as deeply as I could, and forced the tears to stop.  I
covered my face with my hands for a few minutes, and vigorously rubbed my
face and my hair before I decided to try and sleep again.

	As I flopped back down onto my bed I heard a groan, and almost
jumped back up.  I turned my head and could see Jakob curled up beside me
in the moonlight, this time under the covers.  My heart leaped, and if I
hadn't of disciplined myself, I would have had the biggest erection of my
life at the sight of him.  I wanted to wrap him in my arms, and feel him
there all night.  I lay on my back and consciously had to pace my
breathing, to try and slow down my heart.  After time passed, I closed my
eyes, focused on the rate and depth of my breathing, and found myself
relaxing.  I was almost asleep when I felt Jakob shifting in bed.  I felt
him position himself next to me, with his head resting on my bare chest,
and I opened my eyes to watch him.  I quietly watched as he slightly
shuffled to get more comfortable, and then he tilted his head back to look
at me-almost as if to ask me for my permission.

	I smiled down at Jakob, who had now moved my arm so that it was
encircling him closer to my body, and for the slightest moment, I thought I
saw that sparkle back in his eyes.  It was caught briefly, I could have
sworn, by the moon's light through my bedroom window, but it was there.  He
was in my arms where I wanted him.  My heart started pounding again, and I
became nervous as a familiar tingling started happening in my groin.  `Oh,
God,' I internally scolded myself.  `Not now, you'll scare him away.'
After a few moments, I somehow regained control over my body, and things
began to calm down.

	"Night, Bryan." Jakob said softly as he found a more comfortable
position for his head.  I had to clear my throat before being able to
respond.

	"Ahem.  Good night, Jakob."  I felt his arm slide across my belly
and hold me there before I drifted off from exhaustion.