Date: Sun, 30 Jul 2000 10:26:31 +0800 From: Dale de Leon <dale@toughguy.net> Subject: A Day Gone Wrong 8 A Day Gone Wrong _____________________________________________________________________________ Disclaimer: This is a story about a guy who incidentally, happens to be attracted to other guys. If all you're looking for is a quick thrill that you can jack off to, then sorry bud, this one's not for you. If that's not what you're after, well... sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. _____________________________________________________________________________ Chapter 13: Life goes on. What a long, strange journey it's been for this humble farmer boy from Sitio Maringgit! I was expecting a big adventure when I left my barrio, but I wasn't expecting it to be this grand or this unpredictable. Wasn't it just a day ago that I had been living in a little cramped box that was located in a dilapidated fire-trap that had managed to get by as a building? Gee... look at me now. Dale de Leon, gardener of the rich and famous. Savior of wilting Sefeneras palms, mulch-lord of all the weeds I surveyed. I've never been this happier. Of course, it was a bit hard to get used to all the changes that had gone on in my life. For those few moments that I had lived in that miserable dormitory, I was nevertheless a free man. No one (other than the uncaring dorm-manager) could tell me what to do. I had my own schedules to keep. I had my own tasks to attend to. I had freedom! I was also bored out of my mind. All I ever did was study and then stare at a blank wall. I was getting fat (relatively speaking) and decadent with all that lack of exercise and hard-work. Well... you can't blame me of such now that I was here in the Javier household. Rosa has gotten my butt to do all sorts of menial work, and then I had to help Lucio look after the cars. Senora Chas had a whole rain-forest of plants and I had to look after each and everyone of them. Senor Miguel had all sorts of pets, and yes you guessed it... I had to tend to them too. I'm even amazed that I could find the energy to go to school and study at the same time. But that I did, and I did it well. I eventually got used to the whole system. Wake up at around 4:00 in the morning and help Lucio clean and maintain the cars. Have the plants watered by 6:45 and then run to the nearest bakeshop and produce store to buy the things Rosa needed for the day. A quick breakfast at 7:30. Clean the pool at 7:45 just in time for Senorito's early morning swim. Feed the tropical fish, walk the dogs (and clean up after their mess!), and make fun of the parrot while you're feeding him fresh fruits. A quick shower, and then off I run to catch the school bus. The length of time I spent at school depended on what day it was. During Mondays and Fridays I could get home at around 2:00 in the afternoon. Thursdays and Thursdays, I could make it by 5:00. Wednesdays... 6:30 in the evening. When I got home, Rosa would be eagerly waiting to send me off into yet another mission, making sure that I'm kept constantly busy lest I grow indolent and fat from resting for an eternity of 10 minutes (Perish the thought!). I had to scrub floors, clean toilets, fix leaky pipes and defective doors, and then filet fish and clean dishes. And that was just on the good days. Things could get even more hectic when there were guests around or when there was some bad weather brewing. Usually, at around 9:00 in the evening, I had the whole time to myself. I used this rare lull in the day to open up my books and give myself an education. Slowly, one by one, I was on my way towards fulfilling my dream of becoming a top notch computer programmer. In the meantime, I had to work my butt off to realize that dream. And you know what the funny thing was? I was actually enjoying it. It was a lot like being back in the barrio... all work and no play (Oh yeah, except back then, I wasn't getting paid to work). And I was too busy to think of getting lonely, as when I was still living at the dorm. How could you be lonely? I was constantly surrounded by the hardworking staff of the Javier household. Lucio was always fun, pulling pranks on me, Rosa, and the rest of the maids. Rosa, in her harsh slave-driver ways, was strangely comforting in her dedication to make you suffer. And of course, there were the maids. There was Cynthia, the superstar-wannabe. Cleaning the house was her main line of work and she was good at it. Of course, you had to bear with her singing Madonna songs (circa 80's vintage hits!) while scrubbing the floor and crooning to the chorus parts of boyband music whenever they played them on the little radio she kept carrying around with her. Although I believe it would have helped if she wasn't so off-key. Then there were the two nursemaids, Lisa and Fely. The two of them were inseperable, although it's not like they had any choice. Their wards, Vance and Vanessa were always getting into some sort of mischief, and so as a result, Lisa and Fely were never far behind. The two girls were also gossip central, as they were always allowed in parts of the house that the rest of us weren't normally assigned to. I don't think anything could happen inside the neighborhood without them knowing about it. Mealtime at the kitchen was always a colorful time for us servants as Lisa and Fely regaled us with tales about the condom they found on Barry's room or about the neighbor's maid who was found out to be pregnant with her employer's child. They've even been circulating tales about precious Javier family heirlooms hidden somewhere around the grounds. Of course, I think about half of their stories weren't true while the other half were all lies. But hey... you never know. There was the lavandera, Mercy. She was in charge of taking care of everybody's dirty laundry. Mercy was a slightly ditzy girl but everybody liked her because she also had a big heart. Whenever you needed to borrow money from someone, or had to find somebody to cover for you while you go off gallivanting all over town, Mercy was the girl to turn to. Of course, I never took advantage of her generosity as I had my own problems to attend to. I suspect that was why Mercy had a slight crush on me. She was always asking me if there was anything she could do for me, or if I had anything special that I wanted while she was running off to the store for errands. I was embarrassed by all her attention, so I just politely declined. Besides, I didn't want to move in on Lucio's territory. I had often caught Lucio sneaking a look at Mercy when she wasn't looking, and had more than once heard him talk of someday taking Mercy out on a date. I wish him all the luck. My life was finally moving in a repetition that I was familiar with. Work, study, work, study, work. I had so closely identified myself with my job that I had stopped thinking of Miguel Javier as Miguel Javier, my hero but instead as Senor Miguel, my boss. Aunt Chas became Senora Chas. Barry my classmate became Senorito Barry, my boss's nephew. Speaking of Barry, I hardly ever saw him anymore. I was always too busy with work to be around during those rare moments when he was inside the house. Usually, Barry would be off gallivanting in one party after another with his rich cono friends. The two of us had ceased being classmates shortly after the fire as it was already near the time when the semester had ended. Barry and I had no common subjects the following semester, as he was a Political Science major and I, a Computer Science one. And if ever he was at home, it would be because he was locked up in his room recuperating from partying all night. Waking moments would then be spent going on hours-long phone marathons with Bianca and company. At first it was weird getting used to thinking of Barry as being my Senorito. It was really uncomfortable. He and I had gotten really chummy before and after the dorm got burned, and despite my inferiority complex, I was beginning to consider Barry as someone I had equal footing with. Now all of a sudden, I was his family gardener and he was my Senorito. It was weird. How were we both going to adjust to this? Well... at least Barry solved that dilemma for me. We were both going to adjust by not seeing each other. He was going to go out and hang out with all his rich and socially-desirable friends while I was going to fraternalize and take orders from the househelp. Slowly, the thought of us being equals drifted off until I pretty much got used to thinking of Barry as being my master and I, his servant. I mean... why not? Who was I trying to kid? I was Dale de Leon, farmer turned gardener. He was Barry Javier Ty, life of the party and rich-man's son. It was inevitable that our friendship would drift apart. I admit that not seeing Barry made a small hole in my heart. He had become someone very special to me. I don't think you can ever say thank you enough to the person who gave you a new lease in life. He took me in when no one would and he did it wholeheartedly. Every now and then, whenever I got the chance to collect my thoughts and think about how the day has gone, I look back at what Barry has given to me. Then I would sigh. Wasn't it ironic? Here I was, living at the same house he was in and yet it seems like Barry and I were a million miles apart. It would then be there that a hidden part of me would miss him. And wonder if he has totally forgotten about me. The loss of Barry's presence, however, was made up by being constantly in sight of Senorito Javier. I had long wanted to get to know the man better, and now the chance was finally with me. I tried to observe him whenever I could and find out what makes him tick. It was only now that I have gotten to know him better. And this is what I know so far: By profession, Miguel Javier was the senior manager of the J. Ilagan branch of Phil-Asia Commercial Bank Inc., which the Javier family had controlling interest in. He was an integral part of that branch, and many businessmen transacted and held loans with him, due to his reputation for shrewd financial aptitude coupled with stalwart integrity. In other words, if you wanted to trust someone to look after your funds and give you a profitable return for it, you turned to Miguel Javier. He was the businessman's businessman and everyone knew it. By estimation, around 90 calls a day usually ring in and out of the Javier residential phone whenever Senor Miguel was home. I could just imagine how hectic it would be when it was over at his office. But I had already known about his sharp business acumen. What made the man earn my respect was that despite his hectic schedule and varied economic interests, Miguel Javier still managed to find the time to read Vance and Vanessa a bed time story, or catch his wife with an unexpected peck on the cheek whenever she wasn't looking. Senor Miguel was a bit callous around the staff, but every now and then he would surprise me by giving one of the maids a nice word or two or perhaps giving Lucio a new shirt to wear on his days-off. The man was a study in irony. On one side was a tough, no-nonsense business shark, and on the other was a warm and caring family man and employer. And did I mention that he was hot? Boy... was he!!!! I was in charge of preparing the pool every morning before he came in to do his customary ten laps a day. Watching him swim was like observing poetry in motion. He chopped through the water with methodical efficiency and perfect stroke, going at it with determined purpose and unrelenting stamina. Miguel Javier was a dynamo of power! I always made myself busy near the pool area whenever he was swimming so that I had an excuse for observing him while he was clad in nothing but skimpy Speedo trunks. If the god Apollo ever turned 40 he would look like Miguel Javier. Sure... his age was showing but to my mind, Senor Miguel's aging looks only served to lend him an aura of distinguishment and raw animal sex appeal. He was one of those guys that seemed to look better and better as he got older... like Sean Connery or Tom Hanks. How I envied his wife! As I looked at him now, towelling off, I wondered what it would be like to stare in his iron-eyes and devour his arrogant lips. I dreamed what it would be like to lie side by side with him, night after night, pressed against his hard stocky body and smelling his sweet scent. I fantasized about how secure someone must feel under his strong embrace or how frenzied one could get when led on by his urgent carress. I clearly wanted my boss and how! I realized what I was thinking.... shit, man. I was thinking that fag stuff again. I shook my head and tried to clear it of that heavy mental picture. I began sweeping at the leaves falling on the ground when I heard a loud splash as Miguel dove into the pool again. I turned my head up to look. Sigh. What a beautiful, handsome man! And I could never have him. He was obviously a dream I could never have... unreachable but unavoidably desirable... and I could not help but keep on dreaming. Damn! I was falling in love with him and I was falling hard!!! I shook myself off from my reverie again and hurried on to do more tasks to get my mind off fantasizing about Miguel Javier. All this desire was giving me nothing but frustration and a pounding intensity in my stomach. But asking me not to think about him was practically like ordering me not to breathe. I could not help it. Miguel Javier filled my every waking hour with unescapable sexual greed. I was stuck in this fantasy like a pig in a rut and even though I knew that this could get me nothing but pain I desperately clung on to this fantasy with all the energy I could muster. I was falling into a black hole of lust and there was simply no escape from it. Oh shit what was wrong with me??????? This can't be happening. I can't be fantasizing about another man. No no no. I'm just appreciating his looks. Of course. Handsome guy. Why wouldn't anybody find him attractive. It was normal.... Right? The pool area was silent. Senor has finished swimming. I took one good look at Miguel as he went out of the pool. He bent over to pick up his bathrobe. He had beautiful buttocks and such strong legs. DAMMIT DALE!!!! Get a grip on yourself!!!!!!! This is happening way too often!!!!! Dale Dale Dale.... I closed my eyes and felt that familiar feeling of blood surging into my groins and filling me to full tumescence. I groaned. No. No. No. This was all wrong. This was all so FUCKING WRONG!!!!!!!! I threw the broom I was handling and made a quick run towards instant relief. Chapter 14: The Dilemma The shower-head inside the bathroom that I shared with Lucio here in our room by the garden-shed was turned on to full icy blast. Underneath it's frigid spray stood my quivering naked body... both hands extended to the bathroom wall, holding on for support. My head was bent and my mouth was mumbling silent words. My ears were burning red hot and my damn groin felt like there was a fucking volcano lodged inside my gastro-intestinal cavities. My eyes, though closed, saw nothing but images and parts of Miguel Javier's anatomy that I had yet to see. I was quivering and trembling all over. The water was so damn cold and my body was so damn hot. And in my head... a cry for what I never thought could never be. I just realized it. Oh God forgive me... forgive my dark thoughts... my deep lust... my irrepressible sin!!!! Oh God forgive me.... I was in love with another man!!!!! I clenched my hands into a tight fist and pounded it again and again and again and again on the hard relenting wall. I dare not say the word.... it was an ugly, hideous word and I don't ever want it to be used to describe me. BAKLA!!!!!!! Thoughts of my childhood passed by my mind as I remembered a particular incident as I walked home from school one day. I was only 9 years old. Although it happened a long, long time ago... I still remember that day well. It had been a school day and after a quick day of getting educated, school was finally over. It was time to head home. As I went out the school yard I looked out the sky and noted what a beautiful afternoon it was going to be. The sun hot above me would make it perfect to start working on a new kite. The sparrows were chirping a happy little tune atop the high narra trees. Not a dark cloud was in sight and everything was alright in the world. Things were perfect. Life was perfect. I was perfect. I remembered hearing the little boys first. They were laughing and having fun as I was approaching that lonely bend of the road leading to home. 'What was all the fun all about?' I had wondered to myself. Then on, I had heard that indignant, shrill shriek. "Now look what you little bastards did!!!! My beauty products are all over the dirt!!!" It was Shirley, a.k.a. Pedro Lumad, my auntie's hairdresser and the town's local joke. His heavily lip-sticked lips were hideously cursing those little boys... my classmates! who were grabbing his stuff and throwing it all over the dirty ground. My classmates laughed and laughed at how silly that stupid ugly fag looked and it seemed like their mirth had no end. It looked a lot like fun. I saw a vial of face powder land near my foot. I stared at it and heard Shirley call out my name. "Oh Dale... Good! You're here. Please help me... your little friends are destroying everything." I looked at his ugly, overly-done face and his flowery, pansy clothes and his pudgy, hairy, man's body. I picked up the vial. I looked over at Shirley and saw him smile gratefully. I'll never forget the look on his face as I threw that vial into the air and spread all his expensive face powder around the four corners of Sitio Maringgit's wind. In the top of my voice I began crying out: BAKLA!!!!!!!!!! Flash back to the present. Cold water pounding relentlessly on my tired, quivering body. My eyes were fixated on the hot slab of flesh sticking out from between my legs. An image of Miguel Javier standing over the pool, towelling his hot body with his towel... a tantalizing lump of untold surprises clinging seductively behind the layered concealment of his Speedo trunks. The volcano in my groin flared up again as my knees buckled and my body trembled from the intensity of my desire and pain. I was so weak. My life is flashing out of control. My body, drowning in fatigue, slowly begun to sink down until I was practically crumpled on the floor like a tired piece of unwanted fetus. The harsh rain of ice-cold water continued pelting on me... unforgiving... harsh... relentless. I begun to sob quietly as the voices that came from that day long ago began playing itself over and over in my head. It was the sound of a happy little boy. It was the sound of someone who knew that everything was alright in the world. It was the voice of my harshest critic. It was me. "BAKLA!!!!! BAKLA!!!!!! BAKLA!!!!! BAAAAKKKLLAAAAAA!!!!!!!" said the screaming over and over like a horrible, evil soundtrack as I heard myself taunting Shirley again and again. Bakla. Bakla. Bakla. Shirley cried many tears that day. I sniffled and used my hand to wipe away that saline liquid dribbling down my eyes like blood bleeding from a fatal wound. Yes.... Shirley cried many, many painful tears that day. That day too soon. A day gone wrong. to be continued... <Author's note: Bakla = Faggot. Local parlance meaning gay man, homosexual. - Del's Filipino-English Compendium of Often Used words.> ================================= How do you like the story so far? Tell me all about it at dale@toughguy.net All comments are welcome, although I can't guarantee an immediate reply.