Date: Sun, 2 Sep 2012 15:36:47 -0700
From: B.E. Kelley <hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Light in Dark Places Chapter 9

This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention.
Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The
author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story.
You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization.

This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage
males.  It is intended for mature audiences only.  If you find this type of
material offensive or if you are under the legal age to read said material;
please proceed no further.

Comments are always welcome at: hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com

A Light in Dark Places
Chapter 9

I didn't get anymore sleep that night.  Wendy's reaction to the fire alarm
and my overreaction to the way she'd treated me, had me tossing and
turning.  Wendy has always confused me, first she hated me, then she
started looking after me like a mother hen.  I didn't know what her problem
was, why she'd been admitted to the clinic, I'd always viewed her as strong
while seeing myself, and the other patients, as emotionally weak.  But she
was just as damaged as the rest of us; she just hid it behind a façade
of strength that had finally cracked.

The mood was quiet and subdued at breakfast the next morning.  Tyler,
Kevin, Jacob and I, sat at our table eating our food and listening to the
conversations around us.  Everyone had seen what happened the night before,
and no one really knew what to say.  The tension only grew thicker, when
Wendy collected her breakfast and sat with us.  Almost immediately, Kevin
and Jacob made excuses to leave and then Tyler reached under the
tablecloth, gave my hand a gentle squeeze and left for class.  The tyranny
of the unspoken was driving me nuts, I had to say something.

"Look, Wendy, I'm sorry about last night, I didn't mean to yell at you, you
just scared me a little," I explained, while Wendy ate her cereal.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" I asked, "I said I was sorry, last
night wasn't all my fault you know?"

Wendy put her spoon down and took my hand.

"Come on, I want to show you something," said Wendy, as she got up and led
me out of the dining room.

Wendy was quiet while we walked through the halls, she didn't let go of my
hand though, in fact, her grip seemed to get tighter.  We finally arrived
at the music room, where we met each night for arts and crafts.  Wendy led
me over to the easel where she spent her evenings working on a painting
that none of us had ever seen.

"Is this what you wanted to show me?" I asked, gesturing at the painting,
covered with a sheet.

She didn't answer; instead, she took a deep breath and pulled the sheet
away.  It was a painting of a boy, he had short, chestnut colored hair, big
hazel eyes and a slight build.  Except for the big smile and the lack of a
pair of wire-rimmed glasses, the likeness was uncanny.

"You painted a picture of me?" I asked, confusedly.

"It's not you, it's him," said Wendy, fishing a tattered picture from her
pocket and handing it to me, "his names Cody, he's my little brother."

I didn't know what to say, I was confused and I resorted to a dumb joke
about how much he looked like me.

"Well, he's a handsome little guy," I smiled.

"He died, Peter, he suffocated in a fire," Wendy sniffled.

And suddenly everything became clear.  Wendy had reacted to me the way she
had at our first meeting because the resemblance between me and Cody had
freaked her out.  Later, when she'd found me crying in the music room, the
resemblance made her feel empathy and she devoted herself to looking after
me.  Cody had been killed in a fire and last night when the fire alarm went
off and she couldn't find me, all those memories must have comeback with a
vengeance.  I reached out and pulled my friend in for a hug and held her
there.

"Wendy, I'm so sorry, I don't know what to say," I stated.

"He was only 13, just a baby and it's all my fault," Wendy wept.

I didn't know what had happened but I knew it wasn't her fault.  It's
funny, I felt the same way about Connor's death but where I could see Wendy
wasn't to blame for Cody, I couldn't see the same about myself.  I held
Wendy in my arms, until she stopped crying.

"Are you ready to talk about it?" I asked.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Ok, not here though, it's a beautiful day, let's go out on the lawn," I
said.

I took Wendy's hand again and led her out into the hall, where we ran into
Tyler.

"Are you guys ok?" he asked.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" I replied.

"Yeah, but so should you two," said Tyler, with an impish grin, "you're my
friends, I was worried about you two, I can go back to class if you want."

"No, we're ok, we were just going out to talk," said Wendy, "why don't you
come with us?"

"Are you sure, I wasn't trying to be nosey," said Tyler.

"I'm sure, it's like you said, we're friends and I need my boys," Wendy
smiled at him.

We went out onto the lawn and found a big birch tree to sit under while
Wendy told us her story, not surprisingly, it was sad and tragic.  Wendy's
parents had split up shortly after her brother, Cody was born. As time went
by, their father spent less and less time with them.  Wendy's mom was a
successful Bethesda attorney, but in order to maintain her lifestyle and
take care of her children, she was forced to work 14 hour days.  Wendy was
only three years older than Cody but she took it on herself to watch over
her baby brother.

By the time she was 16 and he was 13, Wendy had gone from big sister to
second mother, she was practically raising Cody while their mother worked.
Most teenagers are pretty self-absorbed and would resent such a burden, but
not Wendy, Cody was the delight of her life, she fed him, made sure he got
his homework done, she even taught him how to throw a fastball.  While her
friends were talking about boys and hanging out at the mall, Wendy was
making sure her little brother got to his little league games, where she
cheered him on.

Cody returned his sister's love with all the care and affection he could
muster, he knew that his big sister was more committed to him then some of
his friend's parents and went out of his way to be a good boy.  Cody
possessed a sweet and gentle nature, he could be rambunctious but he was
never mean, rarely frowned and never treated anyone with an unkind word.
Cody was Wendy's world and she was happy in that world, until she'd met
Hunter Beckman.

Hunter was new at her school, it was rumored that he'd been kicked out of
some fancy prep school and like many girls, Wendy was entranced by his bad
boy reputation.  Wendy and Hunter started dating and she found herself torn
between him and Cody.  She was able to balance the two for a while but
eventually something came up that put them in direct conflict.  There was a
party at a girl named Kristin Price's house, Hunter wanted to go but Wendy
had to watch Cody because their mother was out of town on business.

Hunter kept pushing the issue until Wendy cracked.  He reasoned that Cody
was a big boy, all Wendy had to do was wait until Cody was asleep, then
lock up and go to the party.  They lived in a good neighborhood, there
really wasn't anything to fear, Cody would wake up the next morning and
never be the wiser.  Blinded by teenage lust, Wendy made what would turn
out to be the most fateful decision of her life, and agreed to Hunter's
plan.

Wendy's family lived in an upscale row house.  Bethesda is an old city,
ancient by American standards, and so are some of the houses in it.
Wendy's house was two hundred years old and though no one knew it at the
time, some of the electrical wiring was faulty.  A short in the basement
ignited a box of old Christmas decorations and by the time Wendy got home
from the party, her house was engulfed in flames.

The fire had spread quickly through the basement and then followed the old
wooden staircase up to the ground floor.  The smoke detector went off,
waking Cody, who was a smart boy, who didn't panic, he knew he had to get
out of the house.  He searched his sister's room and when he didn't find
her, he figured she must be downstairs.  Cody raced down the stairs only to
find that the fire had blocked the exit.  Undeterred, he scrambled back
upstairs and tried to reach the fire escape on the back side of the house,
only to find that the fire had spread up the ivy on the back wall.  That's
when Cody got scared, he called out for Wendy but she didn't come to help
him.  Alone and frightened, he returned to his room and hid in a corner,
the fire department found him there and though the fire hadn't reached him,
the smoke had.

When a burley fireman carried the lifeless boy out of the wreck that had
been his home, Wendy burst through the police line and ran to him.

"I tried to wake him up," Wendy sniffled, "I shook him, I even slapped him
but he wouldn't open his eyes.  The paramedic's finally pulled me away and
they tried to revive him, but it was too late, the pronounced him dead at
the scene."

"He was just a baby," Wendy cried.

Tyler and I both had tears in our eyes.  In a place where everyone is
damaged, where everyone brings their guilt and pain, Wendy's was the worst.
Tyler had been a victim, he'd been raped and like many such victims, he
felt that he'd invited the attack.  He blamed himself, he reasoned that if
he hadn't been gay it wouldn't have happened.  I blamed myself for Connor's
death, I thought if I hadn't let him talk me into going to that beach, or
if I hadn't been tired, if I'd gone swimming with him, we'd be together, at
school right now.

My guilt and Tyler's, were the creation of our own minds, Wendy's was more
real.  She should have been home, Cody was her responsibility and she knew
it.  If she had been there, she might have smelled the smoke and gotten him
out of there.  I couldn't fathom the burden on her shoulders, all I could
do was hug her.

"What happened after that?" asked Tyler, once Wendy had regained her
composure.

"My mom forgave me, she's never blamed me, I think she blames herself, for
all the time she spent at work," said Wendy, "I told myself I was fine, I
tried to go on but I kept getting in fights at school, so they had me see a
shrink and after a few sessions he sent me here."

"You never tried to, you know?" I asked, I still couldn't use the word
suicide, it hit to close to home.

"No, they were afraid I might, that's why they sent me here, but I couldn't
do it," Wendy explained, "Cody is gone because of me, I felt like, and
maybe still feel like, I deserve my pain."

"You don't deserve it," said Tyler, "sure you made a bad choice but you
couldn't possibly know what was going to happen."

"Tyler's right and chances are, you would have been asleep too, your mom
could have lost you both," I reasoned.

"That would have been ok with me," said Wendy, "at least then he wouldn't
have died scared and alone."

"Well I'm glad you're here," I admitted, "it's been nice having you look
out for me, I thought Connor was the only friend I'd ever have like that."

"You weren't close with your prep school buddies, not even your roommate?"
asked Tyler.

"Not like that," I stated.

"How did you meet him anyway?" asked Wendy.

I saw this as an opportunity to change the subject and cheer them up a
little, maybe even cheer myself up along the way.  I explained how I'd met
Connor on that first day of school and then told them the story about our
first prank.

"Oh my god, they left you tied to the flag pole in just your undies?" Tyler
exclaimed, when I'd finished the story, and Wendy rolled on the ground
laughing.

"They did, we woke up the next morning huddled up for warmth, until one of
the groundskeepers cut us loose," I explained.

"I bet that was cute though," said Tyler, holding my hand.

"No, that's cute," said Wendy, gesturing at our hands.

"I don't know what you mean," I stated, letting go of Tyler's hand.

"Whatever, you guys or both gay, you're friends, you're both cute, I don't
see why you guys don't go for it," said Wendy.

"I-I'm not ready yet," Tyler whispered.

I didn't say anything, I liked Tyler, loved him even, but I hadn't
considered him as a romantic partner, not really.  If I'm honest, I knew I
was attracted to him, but whenever I thought about it, the guilt was
crushing.  I couldn't cheat on Connor.  I didn't want to talk about it and
clearly it made Tyler uncomfortable to, so I thought of another way to
change the course of the conversation.

"You know, it's been a few weeks since we had a run at Perkins," I grinned,
"all this talk about pranks gives me an idea."

"What are you thinking?" asked Wendy.

"Have you got any paint that would wash off?" I asked.

"Sure, some of the others do water colors, that should work," said Wendy,
"what do you have in mind?"

"Are you familiar with the term Jugalo?" I asked.

"That's priceless, he does look like one of those guys," Wendy laughed.

"What's a Jugalo?" asked Tyler.

"Ok, you've heard of that band, Insane Clown Posse?" I asked.

"Yeah, they suck," said Tyler.

"No kidding, but some of their fans like to put on clown makeup and then go
out and get into fights or vandalize stuff, there was a big news story
about it in Pittsburgh last summer," I explained, "they call themselves
Jugalo's and they're complete idiots, I think Perkins fits the bill."

Tyler was giggling by then, so the three of us set out to collect the
supplies we would need for Perkins makeover.  When we got back to the
clinic, it was like the place had been deserted, there was no one milling
around the lobby, no one in the dining room, music room or library,
instead, we found nearly everyone in the TV room.

"Hey guy's what's going on?" I asked.

"The vice-president died," said Kevin, "it's all over the news."

"No kidding?" I asked.

"Yeah man, heart attack, guy's heart popped like a zit," said Jacob.

"Dude, be a little more sensitive, will ya?" Kevin scolded.

"What did I say?" asked Jacob.

"Peter's dad's a senator, maybe he knows the old guy," said Kevin.

"Oh, shit, sorry, Peter," said Jacob.

"Don't worry about it, I didn't know him, not really," I said.

"Not really? But you met him, right?" asked Jacob.

"Well yeah, a couple of times," I stated, "my parents had a fundraiser for
he and the president at our home in Pittsburgh and he came to dinner at our
house in Washington while I was home for the summer once."

"That's awesome, I've never known anyone who's hung out with someone like
that before," said Jacob.

"It's not a big deal," I blushed.

"Sure, the vice-president comes to my house for dinner all the time," Kevin
chuckled.

"I just mean it's not a big deal in Washington," I explained.

"So you had dinner with the Vice-President of the United States, at your
house, what was that like, did he say anything to you?" asked Jacob.

I noticed that a few other heads had turned and were taking note of our
conversation.

"Sure, he was a really nice man and I remember that dinner pretty well.  We
were having chicken and I was sitting across from him, and he turned to me
and he said..." I paused.

"Said what?" asked Jacob, hanging on my every word.

"Young man, would you please pass the salt," I laughed.

"Oh, you dick, I thought it was going to be something profound," laughed
Jacob.

"Hey, it was profound, my mom's chicken profoundly sucks," I laughed.

It felt good to laugh and to have my friends laugh with me.  It was one of
those moments in which we forgot to be depressed, forgot we were messed up
and just enjoyed being silly.  After the morning we'd had, I felt that we
were entitled to a little silliness.  After the news broadcast returned to
regular programming, Wendy, Tyler and I, finished collecting our supplies
for the nights activities.

Wendy kept everything in her room and Tyler and I met her at the girl's
bathroom, an hour after lights out.  We had these pranks worked into a
routine by this point, Tyler stood guard at the stairwell, and Wendy and I
usually went into the attendant's office to do the deed.  We hadn't done
this in a couple of weeks, mostly because Perkins had changed his routine.
He still found way's to be an asshole, but he wasn't sleeping on the job
anymore.  With the pranks stopped, he'd relapsed and we found him in his
usual position, feet up, leaning back in his chair.

Wendy and I had to stifle our laughter as we used the black and white paint
to turn the sleeping orderly into a clown.  The paint was messy, it was
hard to be detailed with the brushes we had, but the effect was clear.
When we were done, we split up again and Tyler and I headed back to our
rooms at the other end of the hall.  We reached our rooms and I turned to
say goodnight, but Tyler had more on his mind.

"Hey Peter, I uh, wanted to say thank you for yesterday, you know, with the
shower," said Tyler.

"Oh, I wasn't sure how you felt about that," I admitted.

"It was scary at first, but you made me feel comfortable enough to get
through it, I'm not saying I'm ready to try it with the whole football team
or anything, but it was a step," said Tyler.

"Well, in that case, you're welcome," I smiled, then hugged him.

I pulled back from the hug and we held each other at arm's length for a
moment.  Tyler smiled at me and then kissed me on the cheek, I kissed him
back and then our eyes locked.  It was like a tractor beam was pulling us
in, my lips found their way to his, his lips found their way to mine.  I
felt his lips part and a little of his breathe escape, then his soft, pink
tongue slipped past.  I held him in my arms and kissed him passionately, he
kissed back with equal desire but when we parted for breath, we both
blushed.

"Um, good night," Tyler grinned.

"Night," I smiled in reply.

I turned and walked into my room, I saw the picture of Connor and I, taken
the day he'd given me his baseball cap, and the guilt hit me like a ton of
brick.  What had I done? How could I have kissed another boy like that? I
took the picture and cradled it to my chest, I felt tears running down my
face.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to do that," I wept, "I love you
Connor, I miss you so much."

I took the picture to bed with me and buried my face in my pillow.  I was
still crying, twenty minutes later, when I heard Dr. Collins clear and
distinct voice from the hall.

"Mr. Perkins," she shouted, "Wake up."

"D-d-dr. Collins," he stuttered, "I was just..."

"Just sleeping on the job, again," said Dr. Collins.

"I-I-I," he spluttered.

"I don't want to hear it, just go wash your face and pay attention to your
duties," said Dr. Collins.

"My face?" asked Perkins.

"Look at your reflection in the computer monitor," said Dr. Collins, a
slight chuckle in her tone.

"God damn it," said Perkins, when he saw his makeover.

The other patients on my floor, must have stuck their heads out of their
doors because I heard a roar of laughter as Perkins stormed down the hall,
muttering expletives under his breath.  While my friends laughed at the
prank I'd orchestrated, all I could do was cry into my pillow.