Date: Thu, 16 Oct 2003 00:40:30 -0700 (PDT)
From: Michael Garrison <mng1114@yahoo.com>
Subject: Two Lives - Two Loves: Chapter 14

This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to actual
events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.  This story also deals with love and
consensual sexual activities between men.  If you are not of
legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is
illegal, or are offended by such themes, do not read further
and leave this site now.

The author retains all rights to this story.  Reproductions
or links to other sites are not allowed without the
permission of the author.


Two Lives - Two Loves


Chapter 14


There's nothing better on the face of this planet than a
really good massage.  No...strike that, strike that.  There
is, actually...who am I kidding?...but right then, right
there, Ron's hands slowly working their way around my back
felt absolutely, positively stellar.  His thumbs slowly
working the tightness out of my muscles, lessening the
jabbing pain, felt just unbelievably good.  It didn't take
long before I was going from crying out with every jab of
pain from where I'd unknowingly wrenched my back to cooing
like a dove.  I know that that sounds just way too flaky for
words but I don't care; that's how I felt.

Ron had excellent technique, which surprised me.  In no way
would I have guessed that a waiter who looked like some old
drifter, albeit a cute one, could have such wonderful
ability.  He would slowly work his thumbs around the little
blast furnace that was my lower back at the moment, firmly,
but not painfully.  His fingertips would take over for a
while and then his full palms would rest on the afflicted
area.  The heat from his hands warmed and soothed my aching
muscles, which still twitched involuntarily in agony
occasionally, but not nearly so much now that they were
being attended to.

Anyone who's ever had a massage will tell you that, if the
masseur or masseuse has any talent at all, it's really easy
to slip into a light, trance-like sleep; sometimes not so
light, sometimes very deep.  I was on the verge of that
right now.  All I needed was for Ron to start working on my
feet and I'd be out like a light.  I was consciously trying
to avoid falling asleep because I wanted to consciously
enjoy every second of this.  Ron also needed me awake to
give him feedback in case he worked something too hard...I
refer, of course, to my back.

Having gone through his little cycle once, he returned to
working me with his thumbs.  That was my absolute favorite
part.  A massage therapist I went to for a while after my
lacrosse accident didn't like to do too much work with her
thumbs and fingertips.  I can understand that; it's hard on
them and can quickly become fatiguing to their joints even
though it put me right on the doorstep of Heaven itself.
Oh, I was shameless about it, too, begging, pleading, doing
everything but crying like a two-year old who'd had his
cookie taken away to get her to use her thumbs and
fingertips more...I could get away with that then, before
I'd passed from being cute to being handsome... to say
nothing of being modest.  Now that I was just a little
older, it wouldn't have the same impact except as pure,
pathetic comedy.  She'd just smile at my antics and concede
for a minute or so before going back to those forearm glides
that she preferred so much.  Ron, at least for now, had no
such problem and was more than happy to keep me happy,
seemingly drawing strength from every groan and moan of
satisfaction that I uttered.

"Are we in our happy place yet?" he asked.  I didn't have to
look; I could see his grin in that third eye place of mine
that was getting more play lately.

"Ooooh, yeah," I muttered, sighing.  "But don't stop!" I
quickly urged.

Ron laughed.  He knew I was enjoying this and didn't seem to
mind doing it.  Guilt, I guess.  I strongly sensed that he
was just trying to make up for having been the cause of my
predicament despite my assurances that it was definitely not
his fault.

"Excellent! "Let's see how you like this," he said.

For just a split second, I wondered what he had in mind as I
felt his fingertips alight near the pockets on my shorts.
"What?  Is he just going to go for it right here?" I
thought, not knowing what to do, not having any time to
react.  All doubt was removed, thankfully, as I felt Ron
sink his thumbs firmly into my gluts and begin working my
sciatics.  If you've never had anyone work your sciatics, I
highly recommend it.  I would never have guessed that I, let
alone any human being, could make such a deep rumbling groan
of intense, satisfaction.  Unconsciously, I began to burrow
into the cushions just a bit more and sighed deeply as he
worked his thumbs in those slow circles.

It was in the middle of one of those deep, rumbling groans
that Jon burst back into the house at full gallop, almost
smashing the glass in the door as he did, only to stop dead
in his tracks. Gravity had no trouble whatsoever dragging
his chin towards the floor.  The plastic bag from the
drugstore slipped from his fingertips and clattered to the
wooden floor.  It must have been quite a little scene that
instantly played in Jon's mind since neither Ron nor I
realized that from where Jon was standing, his view of what
was going on was mostly blocked by the couch.  Being able to
see only the upper part of Ron's body, clad though it still
was, and hearing my unearthly groan, I was certain that Jon
figured we were having a bit of gratuitous intimacy.  I make
light of it only because, looking back, it was terribly
funny.  The expression on Jon's face must've been absolutely
priceless.  At the time, though, it wasn't all that funny.

"Hey!!" he barked reflexively, approaching the couch, his
voice tinged with a hair of acrimony that I'd never heard
come from him before.

"What?!" Ron and I said almost simultaneously, our heads
snapping around to the sound of the crashing door and of
Jon's voice.  Well, Ron's head snapped around, I just kind
of eased my head around since quick movements tended to
aggravate the pain.

As Jon approached the couch, his perspective gained a better
perspective and he could see that I was merely shirtless and
that Ron was still fully clothed, massaging my lower back
and gluts.  His expression of shock gave way to one of
awkward embarrassment as he realized his apprehensions were
unfounded, that Ron was still tending to my back and my back
alone.  I couldn't turn my head all the way towards him, but
I could see that Jon was starting to blush, even his ears
were turning red.

"What?" Ron repeated.  I smiled.  I knew exactly what Jon
thought.

Jon didn't know what to say but tried to recover as best he
could,  "Hey," he stammered.  "...uuuh...they had a bunch of
stuff that looked pretty good...," he said, going back to
retrieve the bag he'd dropped, still stammering, knowing
that he'd been caught in a moment of unfounded suspicion,
hoping he wouldn't get called on it, hoping the yellow flag
wouldn't get thrown.  Ron was cool enough about it.  I
sensed, though, that he knew what the deal was and didn't
say anything, betraying just a hint of a smile.

"Excellent!" he said.  "What'd you get?"

"I got the obligatory heating pad...a gel pack..." Jon said,
beginning his inventory.

"Excellent..." Ron said, clicking off each item along with
Jon.

"...a regular ice pack for while the gel pack's in the
freezer..."

"Good thinking..."

"...some Ben-Gay...," Jon continued.  At that one, I slowly
cut my eyes around to him.  This felt like Playful Jon
having some fun with irony, which is a dangerous thing in
the wrong hands, and I knew he expected a reaction on my
part, though I didn't want to address the gay thing too
openly...yet.

"Ben-Gay...," I drawled, repeating his words.

"Yeah, Ben-Gay," he chirped, the embarrassment now gone from
his voice, the smile was back.  "They said it was good for
you broken-down types."

Ron laughed.

"Broken down?!" I began.  "Why, I'll dance on yer grave, ya
young snot!" I continued in the best grizzled-old-codgerly
voice I could manage under the circumstances.  I then
convulsed slightly in pain as doing `The Voice' strained me
in just the wrong way.  They both laughed, of course...with
me, I hoped, not at me.

"What else," Ron asked, still laughing a bit.

"I got the rubbing alcohol..." Jon continued.

"'K..." Ron acknowledged.

"...some kind of liniment..."

"'K..."

"...some of this goop called Muscle Gel..."

"Ooo, lemme see that," Ron asked, catching the small jar in
mid air as Jon lobbed it.  "Oh, excellent...St. John's
Wort," he said.

"Jon doesn't have any warts," I said matter-of-factly,
knowing the reaction I'd get.  I was not displeased when I
saw two smirks out of the corner of my eye accompanied by
matching groans.

"I should've gotten something to shove in his mouth while I
was there," Jon offered, wryly.  I was tempted to follow on
to that remark but decided to resist temptation.

"Sorry, guys," I said.  "I couldn't resist.  What's
St...what'd you call it?"

"St. John's Wort," Ron said.  "It's good for muscle pains.
What else, Jon?"

"Well, the lady at the counter said this stuff was good
too," Jon said, holding up a small, medicinal blue bottle.
Ron looked at it quizzically and held out his hand for Jon
to toss it.

"Oh, cool," he said.  "Ginger Root!"

"Ginger root?" I said as Jon looked at us with his eyebrows
furrowed.  "Jon, you pick up any Eye of Newt while you were
there?" I laughed.

"Don't laugh," Ron said.  "It's an essential oil that's
really great for muscular pain.  Nice work, Jon!" Ron
continued, giving Jon a thumbs up.  Jon returned with his
quick smile.

"Lemme get the gel pack in the freezer," he said.

"How do you know all this stuff, Ron," I asked, settling
back down onto the cushions.

"My mom," he said.  "She was a massage therapist.  I picked
it up here and there.  Couldn't help it; she always had the
stuff around.  My father always thought it was bullshit, but
I was on mom's side.  She always treated me with all the
organic stuff when I was sick or somethin' and I had no
complaints."

"She teach you how to give massages, too?" I asked.

"Yeah, some.  She figured I needed something to fall back on
if bein' a bum didn't work out!" Ron said, laughing,
followed by our own laughs.  "Let's try the ginger root
first...see how that works out," he continued.

Opening the tiny bottle, Ron let a few droplets drip out
onto his palm and rubbed his hands together.  The air in the
kitchen almost immediately became fragrant with the aroma of
fresh ginger.  I closed my eyes and started to relax just
from the pleasant aroma and his oiled hands on my back were
more soothing than before.  Ron slowly worked the oil around
my back but concentrated more on the lower part where my
muscles still ached and poked at me with red-hot irons
occasionally.  He worked slowly and repeatedly from the
spine outwards with just the right amount of pressure, then
slowly worked his way up my spine, a bit more lightly, with
the butt of his palm.  I sighed a little as I felt a couple
of my vertebrae popping back into alignment as he did so.
After a few minutes of this, the pain was really starting to
subside.

"That ginger root's really wonderful stuff, Ron," I mumbled
as I rested while he attended me.  "I feel a hundred percent
better already."

"Excellent," he said.  I could feel his smile.  I thought it
was funny that I could also see a vague image of him smiling
in my mind.  I didn't think too much of it; I was enjoying
this too much to analyze it.  "See," he continued, "and you
were making fun of it.  I'm telling you, this stuff is
awesome."

"That smell's making me hungry for Chinese," Jon said.
"Anyone hungry?  In all the excitement, we didn't get a
chance to eat."

"I'm not too hungry, now," Ron said.

"Yeah, I could hold off a little until I can stand up
straight again," I agreed.  "Ya wanna order Chinese later?"

"Yeah, I'm with that," Jon said.  "Dude...you're staying for
dinner, right?"

"I don't think he meant that as a question," I whispered to
Ron.  "Just nod your head politely and say `yes'."  As
suggested, Ron didn't hesitate to nod politely and say
`yes'.  Jon was pleased; he loved to take care of people.  I
could feel Ron smile again and his hands ran over my back a
little more excitedly this time, a little more powerfully.
He was happy, too.  But I was sensing something else.  I
couldn't put my finger on it, though.  Oh, what the hell, he
was happy and that's what mattered.  Jon was right.  It was
nice having another friend around the place.

Even after a few days, it was really apparent that being
stuck...no, that's not the right word...just...being here
with no neighbors or anyone close by could wear on you after
a while.  That's not to say that I didn't love being alone
with Jon, because I really did, that should go without
saying.  But I was beginning to crave other human contact.
I think Jon did, too.  When I was a kid growing up, there
were always neighbors around and everyone knew everyone
else.  We were always in and out of each others houses all
day long, driving our parents nuts...'In or out, in or
out!!'.  At the frathouse, too, it was the same thing.
There were always guys around, always some kind of activity
going on...Life's background noise, you know?  Here there
was none of that.  As perfect as this place was, it was way
quiet here, which is a mixed blessing.  I think Jon liked it
more than I did but I think he liked a little variety now
and again, too.  Of course, I had my `friend' in the Study,
but in no way did I consider HIM company!  Thankfully, he'd
been quiet today.

"Say, what's the weather doing out there?  Is it gonna
hold?," I heard Ron say, breaking my short meditation.  I
became aware of his soothing hands again.

"Nope, `fraid not," Jon said as he closed the freezer door.
"It's clouding up again big time.  Let's check it out."

Jon picked up the remote from the counter, and pressed the
macro button that turned on everything but the garbage
disposal and the entire system came quickly and loudly to
life.  He pressed the `Favorites' button repeatedly until
the local Weather Channel came up.  After a few minutes of
the usual stuff, the local Doppler radar confirmed what Jon
had said...more rain coming in.

"Wonderful," Ron muttered facetiously.

"Great," Jon said, echoing Ron's sentiments.

"Hmmmm," I said.  "Well, so much for our little break.  Hey
look, I don't know much about radar, but I'd bet we've got
enough time for you guys to get a little divin' in before
that rain gets here...if you want to.  Ron, you can use my
stuff."

Ron shrugged and looked hopefully at Jon.  He obviously
wanted to give it a shot but didn't want to be too pushy.  I
could tell, though, he'd really liked our morning session.

"Sure, why not?" Jon chimed in.  His slight hesitancy was
just a facade; I knew he wanted to strap the gear on again,
too.  "But what about you?"

I'll come out `n paddle around a little," I said.  "The cold
water'll probably help my back."

"Excellent!" Ron said.

We wasted no time in getting changed since we didn't have
just a whole lot of time before the rain would be on
us...again.  It'd rained so much in the past few days; I was
a little surprised that we weren't getting flooded out or
something.  Jon helped me out getting up and down the stairs
since my lower back was still bothering me big time and I
didn't have my usual flexibility.  He was what I'd call a
caring worrier.  I fucking love him.  I don't know why he
wants to be a shrink.  I think he'd be better at being a
regular doctor, a true healer.

Ron was waiting for us poolside.  The cutoff jeans he wore
were still damp and the slight breeze was more than enough
to bring up a nice crop of goosebumps all over his body.
Those things probably took about two days to dry out, I
thought as I noticed him shivering just a little.  Of
course, I was a fine one to talk.  My baggies weren't
exactly fresh from the dryer, either, and I was shivering,
too.  Jon, on the other hand...well, what can I say?  He was
just fine since those trunks of his dry in a heartbeat.
They ought to since they barely have enough material to
cover a gnat's ass!  They certainly helped warm me up a
little, though, I'll tell you.  I watched as they put on
their gear.

"Okay," I began, with my serious voice.  "You guys remember
everything now?"

 "Yeeeeeeeeees, teacher," Jon intoned with a slight smile.
Ron nodded, laughing slightly at our banter.

"Yeah?  Let's see."  I checked them both out.  "Yo, dip," I
said to Ron.  It helps if you turn your air on, ya know," I
said, clapping him on the shoulder and twisting the valve
open, listening to the rush of air to his regulator.

"Duuuuude!" Jon said, grinning broadly.  "Yer busted!"  Ron
couldn't keep from laughing, and blushing a little, at Jon's
comic relief from my too-serious teacher mode.

"Thanks, teach," Ron said.  "I'll try to do better, next
time."

"Jon?" I said.

"Yeah?"

"Why are your Speedos inside out?"

"Wha...?!" he said, looking down quickly, walking blindly
into my little gag.  Ron and I couldn't keep from breaking
up at the flummoxed smirk on Jon's face when he instantly
realized that he'd fallen for that grade-school gag like
some half-witted dope.  "Oh, ha, ha..jerk."  Not an atypical
response when he'd been caught at something.  Jon could take
being the butt of a joke but he preferred to dish it out,
when he was in the mood, of course.  He smiled back, never
being one to hold a grudge.

Like good little pupils, they sat on the edge of the pool
and got ready, held their masks and rolled forward, the
water swallowing them whole, leaving only a cloud of bubbles
and a distorted, wavering view of them both below.  I went
around to the steps and eased into the water as fast as my
back would allow until I was mostly immersed and just slowly
pushed off, starting to do a slow breaststroke across the
pool with minimal kicking.  Actually, my back was starting
to feel a little better.

The cool water and the stretching from the swimming were
helping a lot.  My muscles quickly began to loosen and warm
up.  After a while I hardly noticed the pain anymore and
started increasing my speed a little at a time until I was
making fairly good time.  Yeah...this was working out
nicely.  By dinner, I felt like I'd be all better again.
Ron's massaging and the water were just what the doctor
ordered.  It was just then that Ron and the doctor decided
to have a little fun and grabbed me from below, pulling me
under like Jaws grabbed that side of beef.  I yelped in
surprise and took a little water up my nose as I felt Jon
shove the regulator in my mouth.  Playful-Jon was back and
wanted to wrestle some more.  Without a mask, I could only
vaguely see that Ron was content to back off and watch the
two of us go at it.

Remembering the last time we did this, I was determined to
get the upper hand as quickly as possible.  What can I say?
I can be a sore loser and, boyfriend or no boyfriend, Jon
was going down...still, this was a friendly little Mano-a-
Mano, dumb-ass guy thing, you know?  I could feel him
starting to pull that trick of his, wrapping his legs around
me to get more leverage, and I squirmed away as quickly as
my back would allow, which put him a little off balance.  I
saw my chance as he tried to recover and snatched his mask
off, letting it drop to the bottom.  Jon quickly became a
flurry of arms and legs when he took a nose full of water
and in those few seconds that he lost it, I grabbed his
regulator and pressed down hard on the purge valve with my
thumb.  The surprise of the torrent of air shooting into his
mouth was just enough to loosen his grip and I was able to
pull it away.  Jon was more than a little taken aback by my
quick resistance and was now in full get-the-fuck-outta-here
mode.  His first instinct was to shoot for the surface but I
held him back just enough so he wouldn't rise too fast and
risk an embolism.  As I've said before, though, he's
incredibly strong and broke my grip without too much
trouble.  I think it was enough, though, as long as he
didn't hold his breath.  When he started to bolt, the
secondary regulator was yanked out of my mouth, but not
before I saw one last opportunity to have a little fun.  I'm
sorry, but I just could not resist yanking his trunks down
around his knees as he ascended, leaving nothing left to
anyone's imagination.  I could almost hear Ron laughing in
his regulator, his eyes widening just a bit more behind his
mask as he watched.  Jon's trunks snarled his legs and
dampened his ascent, which gave me just enough time to grab
the regulator, shove it back in his mouth and get him calmed
down a little, which is a task not too dissimilar from
trying to calm a horse that doesn't want to be broken.

He calmed down after a few moments, though, and I signaled
for us all to head up...calmly, this time.

"Dude!" He sputtered after we broke the surface, shaking the
water from his hair.  "What's up with you, man?  I coulda
drowned!"  Ron broke surface next to me but was astute
enough to stay out of what might be shaping up into a fight.

"Dude!" I mocked, "what'd I tell you about coming up too
fast?!  I probably saved you a trip to the hospital!"

"Wha..."

I knew I was being a bit of a drama queen but it was only to
emphasize a point.

"It's just a pool!" Jon argued, throwing his hands up in
exasperation.

"Ain't no such a thing as `just a pool'," I said, affecting
one of my humorously serious voices, trying to lighten
things up just a bit.  "You could get an embolism in less
water than this...,"  Oh, what the hell, I thought as I gave
my drama queen side full reign for the moment.  "...and then
I'd have to drag your ass out of the pool and call the
paramedics and hold your hand while you clutch your chest in
agonizin' pain.."

Ron was beginning to catch on to my little charade and was
having a hard time suppressing his laughter.

"...and then they'd get here and work on you and then throw
you in the back of the ambulance, sayin' they couldn't do
anything for you here..."

Light finally began to dawn for Jon and he, too, began to
laugh a little.

"...and then they'd get you to the ER but it'd be too late
and the Coroner'd pronounce and I'd have to answer a lot of
dumb questions and sign a lot of dumb papers and, as if that
weren't enough," I said, holding up both hands for dramatic
emphasis, "...I'd be left here all alone to cook for myself!
Is that what you reeeeeeally want?!" I shouted in mock
hysteria.  "You know it took me forever just to figure out
the coffee machine!"

If there'd been a floor for them to roll on, both Jon and
Ron would be down on it trying to keep their sides from
splitting...you had to be there, I guess.  Anyway, I got the
mood lightened up and was able to drive home a point at the
same time.

Jon knew I was right.  "Sorry," he said sheepishly as he
tried to stop laughing.  "Truce?"

"Always...I'm sorry, too, but...man, I just couldn't
resist,"  I laughed as Ron looked on, treading water, his
own laughter calming and listening to us going on at each
other.  "Dude, make sure your trunks're up...someone might
be looking!" I pointed, grinning.

Jon smirked again and quickly ducked back under to get
himself resituated as Ron and I laughed again.  A few
raindrops here and there started to tap at the surface of
the water and we knew it was time to head in.  We quickly
stripped the gear and got it into the carriage house, then
grabbed up our towels and headed for the showers.

                         *  *  *  *

The swim had done my back a lot of good but my wrestling
match with Jon had not.  My back still nagged at me a little
and, again, I let the hot water douse it liberally.  He and
Ron had only needed a couple of minutes to shower off and
get dressed but I lingered a little longer in the copious
warm steam.  God, it felt good.  The only thing missing
right then was Jon.  Later, I thought.  I figured it was
time to finish up and get dressed.  I was getting really
hungry and I knew the guys were too.

It was then that the power died.

`Great,' I thought.  Just what we need.  I figured the rain
must've kicked up into a full blown storm, maybe, that had
something to do with this.  Power outages in this neck of
the woods were not uncommon so I didn't think too much of it
except as an annoyance, but still...there was something
about it I couldn't quite put my finger on.  The thought
occurred to me that it could be the guys just playing a
prank.  It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that they
clicked together, like old friends picking up on an old
conversation.  From our experience in the pool, I could see
that they brought out the prankster in each other.  "That's
probably it," I began to convince myself.

 I turned off the water and was met by dead silence in pitch
blackness.  The exhaust fan was no longer making its
familiar humming noise, the lights over the sinks were dead,
and I had that curious feeling again.  It was that familiar,
odd feeling that I was not alone, that there was someone
close by, very close by.

"Hey look, you guys, this ain't funny!" I called.  I got no
response and realized, deep in some part of my being that I
wasn't going to get one, either.  At least, it wasn't going
to be any kind of response I was comfortable with.

The warm steam of the shower was dissipating quickly and I
was starting to get a little chilled.  No, make that very
chilled.  The speed with which I was getting cold was, in
itself, starting to literally, and figuratively, set my
teeth on edge.  I don't know why, but I was almost afraid to
open the shower door.  "Oh, quit being a damn wuss," I told
myself aloud, my voice resonating off the marble walls
offering little comfort.  I slid the frosted glass door
aside and planted one foot on the towel I'd set in front of
the shower.  I knew my towel was here somewhere.  I thought
I'd set it on a little stool right next to the shower, but
in the darkness my orientation was totally off.  To be
honest, I was barely certain of which way was up at that
moment as I tried to feel my way around like a blind man.

I'm usually an intelligent person.  An intelligent person
might have bothered to notice the very faint afternoon light
peeking from beneath the bathroom door into the bedroom.  An
intelligent person would have then, maybe, followed the
light to the door and opened it to get at least some light
into the room.  But no, my intelligence was definitely out
getting pizza or something; it was definitely not there with
me when I needed it.

"Dammit," I muttered to myself.

I knew that towel was around here somewhere.  I felt my way
around the walls, trying to get my bearings and form a
mental picture of where I was in the room.  Finally, I
figured I knew where I was in relation to the stool and
reached out.  Expecting to feel the soft, fluffy feel of the
100 percent cotton towel, I instead felt the hard, crisp
feel of what felt like a 100 percent cotton shirt over a
very tight arm.

I pursed my lips with a little aggravation.  "Okay, babe," I
began.  "...quit foolin' arou..."  It was then that I heard
it, again, clearly, in the middle of my head.

"Please listen t..." a whispered voice said.

I gasped.  I grunted in sudden but minor pain as my ass hit
the marble floor where I'd fallen from being so startled.

"...llip," it continued.  I missed part of what it said
because my butt was too busy smacking the floor and my mouth
was too busy getting ready to, and I'm not embarrassed to
say it, shriek like a bitch.  "Why won't y..."

I didn't want to hear it.  "Stopit, stopit, stopit,
stopit!!!" I exclaimed, holding my hands to my ears.  I
wanted no more of it and made a slipping, stumbling dash for
where I thought the bathroom door was.  The knob...great!  I
fumbled with it and got it to work, hearing the latch click,
but made the classic goof of trying to push a door that was
meant to be pulled...Oh, the Three Stooges would've been
proud.  I started to cry out when I must've inadvertently
pulled, out of the panic that besets one when trapped, and
flung back the door, hitting my toe and scraping the skin as
I did.  I ran out into the bedroom, pulling the door behind
me and slamming it shut.

I was a total wreck.  Naked, dripping, my back was hurting
again, my toe was screwed up and now here I was in the
gloomy afternoon light of a day gone gray holding a door
closed for dear life against I knew not what.

"Joooooooooooooon!" I screamed.

                          *  *  *  *

                       To Be Continued

                          *  *  *  *