Date: Tue, 04 Jan 2005 23:45:27 -0800
From: Gabriel Duncan <lonelyocean@alamedanet.net>
Subject: Part Four of Angel

Note: All cherecters in this story are fictional; any resemblence to
anyone, whether living or dead, is coincidental.

Also: You're reading this on Nifty Erotic Stories Archive.  I'd like to
thank all of the kind folks at Nifty for publishing this story.  So,
please, respect their right to host our stories, our privelage to post
our stories and your opperitunity to read them by being of legal age in
your state or territory to view works of erotic nature.

Hey all, this is Gabriel Duncan; the writer who brought you Just Don't
Think I'm Not (in Gay/Highschool), Geoff (in Gay/Young-Friends) and
Beach Tryst (in Gay/Encounters).

This time I bring the story of a boy named Adam who runs away from home
with his dog (Poochie) to escape his abusive and alcoholic father.  He
board a train to Denver, never once questioning what his fate will be,
and begins his odyssey.  I call it Angel.



The Phone Call - Part Four of Angel
By: Gabriel Duncan

"...If I weren't so awake
Unconscious be damned
Then things might just go
Exactly as I planned

'But my race to evolve
Found me bust from the start
I let my courage dissolve
And my resolve fall apart

'If I could climb
I'd be at the top
But my way out is slow
And I know I can't stop..."


	I came to my senses when I was feeding Poochie his breakfast.  The
mental list from the night before was finally written out in ink.  On it
were three of my closest friends, a gay helpline I had called once, and my
Aunt Macy.  I decided I would call Macy.
	The first thing she wanted to know was where I was.  I said I was
safe, at least for now.  My hands shook as I held the phone to my ear.  Out
of the corner of my eye, I saw Carol.  She looked stressed.  Her husband
was there.  At least, I think he was her husband.  The man was asking her
to hurry up, but she stayed.  I know she was trying to make eye contact
with me.  Maybe to tell me she was sorry again or to wish me luck.  But I
knew I would never see her again.  And so did she.  So fuck it.  I turned
away and spoke directly into the phone.
	The station was beginning to fill with people stepping off trains.
I know Macy could hear the noise in the background.  She could hear the
attendants making their last calls.  No one said we were in Denver,
Colorado.  I knew I was safe.  The only information she could get from any
of the background noise was that I had taken a Chicago-bound train.  And,
in six hours, another train would arrive and leave for the same
destination.**


	When Adam had first said hello on the phone, Macy was pleasantly
surprised.  She hadn't heard from him in a number of months.  The last time
she did, he'd had great news.  A boy named Scott had entered his life.
Adam was the happiest she'd ever heard him and he told her the details of
how they'd met.  She was anxious to hear how things were going.
	"How are you?"  She had asked.
	At the train station, Adam had to catch his breath.  He knew he
would eventually have to tell her what happened.  But he had never actually
thought about what he would say.  He wasn't sure it had even happened
anymore.  But there was his memory, the truck.  Though he couldn't remember
where Scott had gone to, he knew that he was . . .
	"I ran away, Aunt Macy."
	Adam told her that his father had hit him for the last time.  He
had flipped out on Scott.  Dad had threatened both their lives, so he ran
away.
	Macy was shocked to silence.  She didn't want to believe what her
nephew had just told her.  But she had to consider it.  Her brother was
known to be violent.  But was he violent enough to kill someone?  Macy
couldn't count the number of times Adam had called and told her Jack had
hit him.
	Meanwhile, at the train station, the throngs of people had all but
vanished.  A bum walked past him, shaking a can full of coins with each
step he took.  Poochie saw him first and started wagging his tail madly.
The bum kneeled to pet Poochie as Adam listened to the receiver.  He could
hear a television in the background.  It sounded like a talk show.
	Macy found her voice, "Where are you, Adam?"
	"I'm in Denver," He twisted the metal sheath of the telephone cord
around in his fingers; it reminded him of snake skin.
	Macy wasn't going to let him stay on his own, no matter what
happened.  Adam was family and it was her duty to make sure he was taken
care of. At least until everything could be sorted out.
	"Stay here, Adam," It was her responsibility, she told herself.
	Adam was relieved to hear the invitation.  After his reasoning on
the train, he knew she was his best bet.  He was almost positive she would
help him.  But he had his doubts, understandably.  Still, there was the
problem of getting all the way out to Pennsylvania.
	"I don't have any money, Aunt Macy."
	"Don't worry about that, Adam.  I'll make sure you'll get your
ticket."  Macy sat at her computer and went to the Amtrak website, "Do you
know when the next train for Chicago comes?"
	"Umm . . . I don't know.  I'm not close to a place where I can see
a schedule.  But I'm at the Denver station." Adam knew that trusting Macy
right now could be ricky.  But he didn't believe that Macy would rat him
out.  She would probably want to pump him for information once he arrived.
"Can't you look it up or something?  I don't want to leave the phone."
	Macy pecked quickly at the keyboard with her fingers and drew up
the schedule from Denver, Colorado.  The next train she found would leave
in six hours.  Adam would have to find something to do, safely, until then.
The information was relayed to Adam.  She bought a one-way ticket for him
online and told Adam to go check at the front desk for it,
	"And call me once you get it!"  She told him.
	"I will, Aunt Macy."  He told himself he would do anything she
wanted once he got there.  Clean the windows; scrub the floors; fuck, even
change her tampons if she wanted it; anything to just have a place to run
to.

	A tall bald man in a white shirt soiled by sweat stains only looked
up from behind his computer screen briefly at the boy to get the basic
information.  Adam was patient.  It wasn't like he had anywhere to go.
Well, not for the next six hours.  Six hours!  Even though he was in no
position to whine, or that's what he thought at least, Adam couldn't help
but wonder what he would do.
	The first words from the man were, "Is that your dog?"
	"Yes, sir," Poochie was sitting beside the brown haired boy.
	"Dogs aren't allowed in the station."  The man had the sort of
whine to his voice that only the morbidly obese achieve.
	"He's friendly," Adam told him, "Besides, this shouldn't take long,
anyway.  I'm here to pick up a ticket."
	"What's your name?"
	"Adam."
	"Stay in the station until your train comes."**

	I hung up the phone and looked around the empty train station.
Poochie was by my side, whining softly.  He was probably hungry again.  I
kneeled and pulled his leash out of my backpack.  He knew what was coming
next, as I led him over to a tree.
	"Stay here, Poochie."  I told him, "I'll come back with food."
	Poochie barked once as I turned my back to him and began my search
for food.  I didn't have to look far; there was a hot dog stand at the
corner of the train station.


	Denver looked immense.  I was in downtown, I guess. I could see the
Coors stadium just down the street.  Across from the train station were
loft apartments and what looked like a small shopping center
	We explored after we ate our hot dogs.  There wasn't much to see,
really.  We walked around for two hours staring at cell phones and
sculptures.  I didn't stop at the shopping center.  I kept going until I
was in an art district.  Thankfully, I didn't get lost, there were giant
maps posted everywhere.
	My quest to waste time almost stranded us again.  I had been
walking around for nearly four hours in the art district when I looked at
the time.  Poochie and I had gotten so far away that, even by running, we
barely made last call for the train.
	The station was crowded when we got there; I had to squeeze through
people saying their hellos and goodbyes.  I ran to the nearest car that
didn't have a line and presented my ticket to the collector.
	"You're in a sleeper car, son," The man looked at my ticket,
"That's four cars down.  Give him your ticket."
	He noticed my dog for the first time.  I thought he was about to
tell me that dogs weren't allowed on, like the last guy.  I was ready to
give him the same sob story I gave the guy on the last train. "Oh, and tell
Randy you know Max, he'll allow a stow-away."
	"Thanks, dude!"  I ran off to the car I was supposed to be in.
Randy looked at me the same way the other guy did, but, once I told him the
password, he gave me a grin and let me through.
	I was surprised Macy would get me a sleeper car, and very thankful.
There were two folding beds in the room.  It was just small enough for two
people to sit in.  The top bunk was like a captain's bed, it would be the
one I would sleep on.  And Poochie could sleep on the bottom.  No more
snoring!
	After I found place for my bag, I came back and sat across from
Poochie.
	"Well, Poochy," I scritched her neck, "Here we are: on the train,
again."



This story is copyrighted 2004-2005 by Gabriel Duncan.