Date: Sun, 21 Jun 2015 15:17:06 -0400
From: Jesse Jesse <gmmac1987@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Healing Love Pt5

Hello guys, Jesse here. Thanks so much to those of you who've already
written me with comments and thoughts on the story so far. I'm so glad to
hear that those of you have written me so far have enjoyed this first short
bit of my story. I've been fairly quick on writing these first five
chapters, but as work and duties call, I'm not so very sure I'll be able to
keep up this pace with writing more. Please be patient and keep your eyes
open, as I do intend to further the story from where I leave off
today. Thanks so much, and let's not forget to thank our host, Nifty!

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A Healing Love, Chpt5


He was naked, "naked as a jaybird," as my grandmother would've said. And
for that split second, once again my eyes travelled the length of the
lithe, toned frame that was Elijah, but when my eyes began to travel below
his navel toward his groin another thought came rushing back to my mind
that caused me to almost faint on the spot; I was every bit as naked! And
so it was with this horrible, gut-wrenching realization that I began
desperately attempting to wrench myself from the strong hands that held to
my own. But my efforts were to prove fruitless. As I heaved and hauled with
all my terrified might Elijah merely stood with that same bemused smile
spread across his face that I'd already seen so many times. But though what
Elijah did next had the effect he desired, I highly doubted that my
physical surrender was as much from his overpowering muscle as from pure
shock when I suddenly found myself wrapped in two strong arms that
manhandled me so that I was pressed flat against a warm, albeit wet, chest.

Yes, there I stood, "stark naked," in the middle of the dusky forest with a
beautiful young man that held onto me tightly, seemingly determined to hold
me from retreating into the tent, his chest rumbling beneath my hands that
had pressed resistantly against him as he attempted to speak to me. But I
was determined not to look into his face. I couldn't. I knew, I just knew
that he'd realized what had been going through my mind. He knew; he knew
everything that I was thinking. He was going to be repulsed, angry that I'd
looked at him in such a way. Even as his muscular arms slackened their grip
around my frame, I expected the first blow or shove to follow. But nothing
of the sort came. Instead a calloused hand reached down to cup my chin and
lift my now hotly flushed face to meet his own eyes. "I'm sorry I scared
you; I shouldn't have done that, and I don't blame you if you're pissed at
me. Should've given you a warning of some kind that I was around." I
couldn't answer. With my hands pinned to his warm chest, and my throat
constricted with fear and humiliation, I simply couldn't answer. The only
thing I could think to do was nod my head. "Why did you come this far by
yourself, and why didn't you leave me some kind of sign? I was coming
back. I just had to go back to town for something, but I was planning to
come back." I didn't trust myself to answer. The humiliation that welled up
inside me, whether from his accusing question or from the events in the
stream, simply wouldn't allow me to answer.

I cannot honestly say how long I stood enveloped in the warm, lean frame
that was Elijah, much longer than I would've desired given the feelings
racing through my mind, yet for some unknown reason Elijah didn't release
me. It wasn't as though he was forcing me against my will to do, or rather
not do, anything, but more as though he was holding me for comfort, forcing
me to realize that he was indeed there with me. But though I was relieved
to see his face peering down at me once again I couldn't bear to be at such
a close proximity to him. For one thing there was the unattended matter of
both of us standing "without a stitch" on either of our bodies, and my mind
was wracked with fear as to how Elijah would react if and when my body
began to react to this reality. But there was something else; anger. Though
I couldn't exactly explain why, I was angry at Elijah. Even as the
realization dawned in my mind I realized how foolish it was to be upset
with him. He'd truly done nothing wrong. Spending one night together after
saving someone's life wasn't exactly a contractual agreement to friendship,
and most definitely not to anything else. Why was it that I felt angry at
Elijah? But whatever my explanation for my feeling the way I did, I knew in
that instant that I had to separate myself from him. I had to compose
myself from the seemingly 1,000 different feelings stirring in my soul. And
so with one last attempt at an almighty shove, I forced myself from his
grip and made my way back to the tent and my pack to clothe myself.

He did not follow this time, nor did he attempt to stop me. When I
reemerged from the tent he had simply put his own clothing back on and
stood waiting for me, something between a frown and confusion spread across
his face. We both stood facing each other for some minutes before the
proverbial and literal silence was broken. "Why did you
leave?!".............The smile returned. "I told you I had to go back to
town to get something. I was coming right back. Didn't expect you to wake
up before I got back; didn't expect you to leave camp either!" I was
fighting to compose myself. I couldn't explain it, couldn't fathom why such
a red-hot rage was coursing through me when Elijah's explanation made
perfect sense. All I knew was that I needed him to understand. "I didn't
know that's where you'd gone. I thought you'd left." There it was; just
under the surface, the real reason threatened to show itself for both of us
to see. Though I hated myself for being so foolish as to allow him to
affect me this way, the real unspoken reason truly was as obvious as the
"elephant in the room." I'd been frightened I'd never see him again. And
though I didn't know how much Elijah truly knew of how I'd grown to feel
about him in such an short amount of time, he did seem to sense at least
part of what I was implying. In just a couple of lanky strides he'd closed
the distance between us and was now staring down at me, those blue eyes
seemingly boring into my soul, seeing things I couldn't bring myself to
speak. "Toby I'm not going to leave you. Didn't I tell you last night that
we were friends? Are friend such asses to each other that they just up and
leave without saying goodbye? Now I'm very, truly sorry for scaring you the
way I did. I was wrong not to tell you what was going on, but you need to
know that I have no intention of leaving you." And with that statement the
two strong arms snaked their way around me once again.

If I had felt ashamed before truly understanding Elijah's explanation, when
I realized his real reason for going back into town I could've disappeared
into a hole in the ground. Though the smile that in just those few hours
we'd known each other usually brought such warmth and comfort to me, when I
saw it magnify tenfold as he hauled an ancient book from within the bundle
he'd brought with him, I felt as though I could've jumped back into the icy
creek and drown myself.

"Introduction to Sign Language & Sign Communication"

"I'm sorry for overreacting. I don't know what came over me. I
just.....just" For the 1,000th time that evening I found myself mumbling
words of attempted apology as Elijah merely chuckled and waived my
humiliation away. "No big deal. Guess I could've at least left you a note
or something. We're gonna have to start writing in the sand or something
like that!" But though I was truly grateful that he wasn't angry at me in
return, his forgiveness was almost more than I could take. Deep in my heart
I knew there were more reasons why I'd allowed myself to become so angry
with him than simple misunderstandings. Elijah seemed to sense that my mind
was in turmoil as he peered over the edge of the book he'd sat reading for
the past hour. A slight shake from those rough hands brought my attention
back to his gaze. "Hey, what's wrong? You've acted like a zombie since I
got back. What's your deal? One minute you're pissed at me, and then next
you're not speaking at all. What's the deal?" I was glad to see his face
showed that he was only joking, but I dared not truly answer his
question. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that somehow, some way, in
just a mere twenty four hours I'd began to have feelings for him, someone
who even now there were some many things about that I didn't know. But
Elijah wasn't one to be easily avoided. "Hey, what gives?!" So searching my
mind I groped at the first subject that I could recall to redirect our
conversation. "What happened to your back?"

His face darkened in an instant, changing from the handsome features I'd
grown accustomed to to an almost frighteningly hard expression. I knew in
an instant that I'd breached a subject that would've been better left
alone. "Look.....I...I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it, that's
fine with me. I....I just wondered." He sat studying me for a great while,
seemingly longer than most times before I'd noted him peering into my
face. And for a fleeting second there was something different behind his
blue eyes, something the didn't resemble the tough, rugged exterior one
beheld with mortal eyes, but a vulnerability, a question and wondering as
to whether I could be trusted. He grew quite for some time, never taking
his eyes away from mine. But when he did speak his words brought a chill to
my very soul. "My father.......my father happened." I sat stunned at what
I'd read across his full lips. His father?! But the more this clipped
answer spun in my head the more questions it
raised. "But.....how.....why?!" I knew I'd touched some inner part of
Elijah that he preferred to keep hidden, some inner wound that hadn't been
touched for some time. His face, though softened from the frightening
darkness that had clouded its features earlier, held a pained
expression. And as it was my turn to study his face, I couldn't help but be
reminded of some wounded animal, its face full of heartache and pain, full
of questions himself as to why things that he'd yet to speak to me had
happened. And indeed, though I did not hear his words echo through the
night air between us, I found myself jumping slightly as his full lips
parted to speak again.

"Toby, before I tell you any of this, you have to promise me that you'll
never speak a word of this to anyone. I've never told anyone, not even my
grandpa, everything that's happened. I knew if I did that my dad would wind
up in prison, and even though I guess that's what he deserves, I don't want
that. I guess I'm kinda stupid; I keep hoping one day he'll see how wrong
he's been and try to make things right." I dared not speak as Elijah
pressed on with what was obviously a painful story. All I could think to do
was nod in agreement to what he asked of me. "My dad and mom never
married. My mom left when I was real young. I don't have any memories of
her at all. My grandpa says that, at least for a while there, my dad did
good by me. I don't ever remember that. All I ever remember are the nights
after night when my dad came stumbling home drunk, having already spent
every dime he'd earned for the week before he'd even got the check cashed
at the bank. For the most part me and my little brother, Dylan, stayed
away, hid in the back bedroom of the trailer we rented to keep outta Dad's
way when he came home. But that didn't always work out. Most of the time we
could outrun Dad, because he was always drunk, but there were enough times
he caught up with us to leave a few marks. I never said anything, not even
to Grandpa, because I was afraid they'd put Dad in jail. But eventually
things went from bad to worse. I came home from school one day to my dad
standing in the door, waiting on me. He was drunk, like always. But that
day he wanted something different than yelling or hitting. He started
talking about how `a man had certain needs, needs that had to be met or
he'd go crazy.' At first I didn't understand what he was talking about,
because I was only thirteen at the time. I just ran into my room like
always. But after a while I started hearing Dylan scream. It scared the
hell outta me, so I ran back into the other part of the house to see what
was going on."

Elijah was silent for a great while, his blue eyes now glistening with
tears that he obviously was trying to hold back. I was shocked to see that
he was shaking slightly as he continued with this story that horrified me
beyond anything I'd ever heard. "Dad......Dad was doing something to Dylan
that I didn't realize at that time was possible between two guys. I.....I
don't remember the whole thing after that. I just remember screaming at him
to stop, and I remember picking something up from the coffee table next to
me and throwing it at my dad. I don't honestly know if I hurt him or just
surprised him, but whichever it really was, it gave Dylan enough time to
get away." He sat silent again for a while, taking a few moments to run the
backs of his hands across his eyes before continuing. "If you've seen my
back, I guess I don't have to tell you what happened next. Dad turned on
me; gave the worst beating I'd ever had in my life. He pretty well lost it
that day, screamed at me that I'd take Dylan's place for what I'd
done.........." He wasn't going to say it. No....no! He wasn't going to say
what I believed he was going to say. But the trickle that now ran freely
down his face told me that every godawful thing I'd imagined was exactly
what happened. "I didn't try to fight him after he'd already whipped me so
hard. I was too sore; pretty sure he broke at least two of my ribs that
day. Had a hard time breathing for a while after that. I......I'm not so
sure I could've made any effort to fight him, so I just stood where Dylan
had stood before and............and let him get on with it."