Date: Sat, 14 Dec 2013 08:26:33 -0500
From: Ronyx <ronyx@woh.rr.com>
Subject: Birds Don't Sing Before a Storm   Chapter 13

The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone are purely
coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may contain
profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please leave and
find something more suitable to read. The author maintains all rights to
the story. Do not copy or use without written permission. Write
ronyx@themustardjar.com with your comments. Ronyx is a prolific Nifty
author. Visit my personal website at www.themustardjar.com for more
stories.


Birds Don't Sing Before a Storm    Chapter 13


I had trouble sleeping. I tossed and turned most of the night. Around
three, I got up and walked on the treadmill for about fifteen minutes
hoping that I could tire myself out enough to go to sleep.

However, it didn't work. I kept thinking about everything my father told
me. I think I knew it all along, but I wasn't able to comprehend it- my
mother was an evil bitch.

After my father left, we got along great for a while. She would tell me
what a wonderful son I was. That is, until the day she saw me in bed with
Rollie. After that, I wasn't the perfect son anymore. Like my father, God
knows I tried to please her. For a year after that, I was the obedient son;
however, it didn't matter to her. She had already let her love fester into
hate. Soon, I began to share the same feelings.

One day, I just quit trying. I didn't care anymore. No matter what I did,
it wouldn't matter. It was at that time I began to rebel. I purposefully
caused trouble just to anger her. And with each day, we began to drift
further and further apart.

I could understand how my father felt. He said everything I had been
feeling for years. I always thought he left because he was a terrible
man. That was what had been embedded in my mind for five years. I heard her
call him son of a bitch so many times, I began to think that was his name.

Something else bothered me, and I didn't want to confront it. Perhaps,
sending me to live with my father was the best thing my mother had ever
done for me. She did it out of spite. But now, I realized that she might
have inadvertently given me my freedom. Since arriving, I always hoped that
perhaps she would call one night, apologize and beg me to return.

I now realized that I didn't want to see her again. Like my father, I was
no longer under the spell of the evil witch.

* * * * * *

At school the next day, things seemed to be returning to normal. Since my
bruises were not as dark, most students weren't stopping to stare at me. In
fact, a few students actually spoke to me when I entered my first period
class. Melissa tried to get me to sit beside her, but I refused. She was
only pretending to be my friend to anger Curtis and her brother. I
certainly didn't want another confrontation with either of them.

At lunch, I sat with Lane, Donnie and their friends. As usual, they were
excited when I pulled up a chair and sat at their table. Lane instantly
started telling me about Donnie getting into trouble because he pulled
Susie's hair. "Mrs. Chambers," Lane said excitedly, "made him apologize to
everyone in the class."

Donnie's face reddened, and then he added, "Susie's icky." I laughed at
their antics. It was so much different from the usual banter at tables.

As I was taking a bite of my hamburger, I noticed Shade and Megan
approaching our table. They stopped and Shade asked, "Got room for two
more?"

"Sure," squealed Lane as he shoved Donnie so he would move. Shade sat
beside me as the two girls moved to make room for Megan.

Lane looked at Shade and said excitedly, "Wow! You look like Harry Potter!"

Donnie giggled and agreed, "He does!"

Shade shook his head, extended his hand to Lane and said, "Hi. I'm Shade,
not Harry Potter." Lane's smile broadened as he shook Shade's hand. He then
shook Donnie's hand. By their reaction, it appeared to be the first time
anyone had ever introduced themselves in such a manner.

"Shade's a funny name," remarked Lane.

Shade responded, "It's my last name."

"Why don't you go by your first name?" asked Donnie.

"I don't like it," replied Shade.

Lane by now was becoming very interested. "Why?" he asked.

Lane responded with a serious scowl, "Would you like it if your mother
named you Alfalfa?"

The boys began to giggle. "Alfalfa" squealed Lane. "That's not your first
name." When Lane's expression didn't change, he asked, "Is it?"

Megan laughed, waved at Lane and Donnie and said, "Hi. I'm Megan." Lane and
the others timidly waved back. Lane beamed proudly when I informed Shade
and Megan that he was my little brother.

Lane looked up at me and asked, "Are they your friends?"

I looked at Shade and Megan, nodded and replied, "Yes, Lane. They are. I
met them yesterday in my last period."

"Cool," replied Lane.

Megan smiled warmly at me and said, "Lane is adorable, Casey. You're lucky
to have such a nice little brother."

I looked at Lane, smiled and replied. "I am." For a second, I was afraid
Lane was going to start crying.

Naturally, Lane and Donnie had a million questions for Shade and
Megan. Since they weren't used to strangers walking up to the table and
sitting down, they didn't know how to act. At one point, Mrs. Chambers
approached, smiled down at me and walked away.

When the bell rang, Lane giggled when Megan gave him a hug. His face was
flushed when she pulled away. As he left, he grabbed my hand and whispered,
"She's pretty."

Shade and Megan were waiting for me inside the small auditorium when I
arrived for seventh period class. Surprisingly, I found myself smiling as I
approached. Just a day earlier, I was considering changing my schedule to
auto mechanics. Now, I think I would have put up a fight if Ms. Moore tried
to change it.

Megan grabbed my hand and pulled me over to Shade. "We've got to get
started on the auditions for SO-MU."

I gave her a puzzled looked and asked, "SO-MU?"

Shade rolled his eyes and responded, "Sound of Music. Megan's too lazy to
say the whole thing, so she comes up with these crazy acronyms."

Megan said excitedly, "I'm being serious. We only have six weeks before
opening night. So far, Max and I have only cast six singing parts." She
looked anxiously at me, "You wouldn't want to play the role of Captain Von
Trapp, would you?"

"Does he sing?" I asked.

"Of course," replied Megan. "It's a musical."

I laughed, "You heard me sing yesterday. You sure you want the audience to
get up and leave?"

"You have a point," she replied with a smile. She looked over at
Shade. "Any ideas?"

Shade thought a minute, and then replied, "How about Walter Dickens? He did
a pretty decent Stanley Kowalski last year."

Megan shook her head. "I don't know. He's not even taking theater this
year. Besides," she asked, "Can he even sing?"

"Dunno," shrugged Shade. "He's in my third period. I'll ask him tomorrow."

"You're a dear," replied Megan as she kissed Shade lightly on the
cheek. She then started pacing around. "We still need kids to play the role
of the Von Trapp children."

I asked, "How old do they have to be?"

"I don't remember," she replied. "Let me go get my notes." She then turned
and headed off toward the backstage.

I watched her leave and asked, "Is she always this uptight?"

Shade laughed and said, "Get used to it. The closer we get to opening
night, she gets tighter than a virgin's vagina."

I let out a loud laugh and asked, "What?"

Shade's face reddened and she stammered nervously, "Not that I'd know how
tight a virgin's vagina is." His eyes widened, and he added, "I don't even
know how tight any vagina is."

"Really?" I asked surprisingly. I had assumed that he and Megan might be
sexually involved.

He buried his head in his hands and moaned, "I'm not going to say anything
more."

I laughed and replied, "Maybe you better not." For the first time since
meeting him, I had a feeling that he just might be gay. His actions seemed
to suggest that.

Megan approached and heard me laughing. She also noticed Shade's
embarrassed face. "What are you guys talking about?"

When I started to tell her, Shade shouted, "Nothing!" He glanced over at me
and said, "I was just kidding Casey about the way he sang yesterday." Megan
shrugged her shoulders, and then opened up a binder she was carrying. I
couldn't understand why Shade didn't want to share our joke with her.

She thumbed through the binder, pointed her finger at a page and announced,
"Here it is. Let me see." She looked up and stated, "There appears to be
six children. They range in age from five to sixteen." She paced around a
minute and stopped. "I guess we could see if any of the students in class
have younger brothers or sisters."

Suddenly, I had an idea. "How old are the Von Trapp boys?"

Megan looked down at her notes. "Kurt is twelve, and Fredrik is fourteen."

I asked, "Are they singing roles?"

Megan looked down at her binder. "Yes," she stated. "It appears they do
sing a couple of songs." She looked up and asked, "What do you have in
mind?"

Shade stepped up beside me, looked into my eyes and said, "I think I know
what you're thinking."

Megan closed her binder and asked, "Would someone tell me what is going
on?"

"I think Casey wants Lane to be in the show," replied Shade. I looked at
him and smiled.

Megan responded excitedly, "I think that's a wonderful idea! Lane is
absolutely adorable. He would be perfect for the role of Kurt."

"That's what I was thinking," I agreed. "But I don't know if he can
sing. I've never heard him sing before."

"It really doesn't matter," replied Megan. "They are just children. No one
will expect them to sing well."

I said worriedly, "There's only one problem."

Megan gripped my arm and squeezed it. "I know what you're going to say. I
could tell when we joined them for lunch that Lane and his friends are
special." I smiled and nodded.

Shade added, "That's really no problem. Lorenzo is our music director, and
he has a little brother with Down's syndrome. If anyone can bring out the
best in Lane, it will be him."

I frowned and asked, "What if he doesn't want to do it?"

"Are you kidding," laughed Shade. "I saw the way Lane looks at you. He
would walk on hot coals if you asked him."

"Yeah," I smiled. "I guess he would."

"This is great," said Megan as she clapped her hands together. "At least
one of my problems is solved."

I suggested, "You had better wait until I talk to his mother." "She might
not want him to perform." I couldn't think of any good reason why Karen
might object, but I didn't want Megan to get too excited until I had talked
to her.

Megan left to talk to Max and Lorenzo about her idea of Lane performing. I
followed Shade backstage to a large desk. Actually, it was a few two by
fours supported by a couple of saw horses. Shade pulled out a large
portfolio and began showing me some drawings.

"Wow!" I said excitedly as he looked at a couple of the drawings. "You drew
these?"

Shade replied, "They are just some sketches I had in mind for the set."

I turned a few more pages. "These are great."

"It's nothing, really," replied Shade as he took the portfolio and closed
it. "It's just something I like to do."

I looked admiringly at the bespectacled boy beside me. "How do you find the
time to do it? You told me you work two jobs."

"One now," frowned Shade. "I went into work late Sunday night, and the
manager fired me."

"Sorry," I muttered.

"It's okay," responded Shade. "With the show coming up, I wouldn't have the
time anyway. You won't believe how insane it gets around here."

I looked into Shade's eyes and said, "I'm looking forward to working with
you."

"You better be," laughed Shade as he gently nudged me with his
elbow. "We'll be working together so much, you'll think you're married to
me."

I laughed nervously and looked deeply into Shade's eyes.

* * * * * *

On the way home from school, I decided to test Lane to see if he could
sing. I didn't want to mention performing in the play until I had a chance
to talk to his mother.

As we walked, I started to whistle `Old McDonald had a farm.' After a
minute, Lane began to sing about a duck. "With a quack, quack, here. And a
quack quack there. E-I-E-I-O." He then broke into a round about a cow. I
laughed as I listened to him. He actually sounded good! His boyish voice
didn't crack like many boys his age. I thought he might just be perfect for
the role of Kurt. I remembered watching the movie a few years ago, and I
could vaguely recall the lyrics to a song I knew Lane would have to sing.

So I started singing the lyrics of Do-Re-Mi. Lane listened to me sing the
first stanza, and then he stopped me.

"What song is that?" he asked.

I smiled and replied, "A song my mother used to sing to me." I sang it
again as he listened carefully. When I sang it a third time, he joined
in. We continued singing it all the way home.

Lane asked as soon as we entered the house, "Can we fix dinner tonight?"  I
really didn't feel like it, but I knew he enjoyed learning to cook. I think
I was the first person in the house who trusted him to do something.

I reluctantly agreed. "All right. Let's go into the kitchen and see what we
have." He skipped beside me as we went through the house. I opened a
cupboard to see if there was anything we could prepare quickly. I found two
boxes of Hamburger Helper. Fortunately, there was two pounds of ground
chuck in the freezer. I took it out and set it on the counter. I told Lane
we could wait a couple of hours since it wouldn't take long to prepare.

He asked excitedly, "Can I make a salad?" Since he had helped me twice
prepare a tossed salad, I agreed to let him do it by himself. I warned him
not to cut the tomatoes until I was there to help. Once I was certain he
would be all right, I went down to my room.

I was working on some homework when I heard the doorbell upstairs. A few
minutes later, someone knocked lightly on my door and then opened it. It
was Mike.

I jumped off the bed and positioned myself in case he wanted to fight me. I
asked angrily, "What do you want?"

"Relax," he said as he put up his hands. "I didn't come here to hurt you. I
just want us to talk."

I turned and sat back on the bed. "I don't think there's anything to talk
about."

"Listen, Casey," he responded. "I don't know how things like this blew up
in the first place." He walked over and looked down at my slightly bruised
face. Most of the darkness had disappeared, but it was still obvious I had
been in a fight. "I'm sorry."

I stood and walked over to the door. "I really think you should leave,
Mike."

He approached and gripped my arm. "I came here to make it up to you,
Casey." He tried to put his arms around my waist, and then he leaned in to
kiss me."

I pushed him so hard he lost his balance and tripped over the
treadmill. "You're really something, aren't you?" I shouted. "You beat the
shit out of me, and you didn't even give me a chance to fight back. Now you
come parading in here and act like I should just forget about it."

He stood and brushed himself off. "Come on, Casey. Give me another chance."

I opened the door wider and shouted, "Get out!"

He approached and stood directly in front of me. I balled my fist in case
he wanted to start more trouble. He said angrily, "You're going to regret
this. With me, you could have been somebody."

I laughed and said, "Fuck you, Mike."

He glared at me for a second before turning. As he left, he warned, "You'll
be sorry."

I was still upset when I went upstairs a half hour later to check on
Lane. I couldn't believe that Mike had the nerve to come to me and act as
if nothing had happened. However, that was the way he was. He was used to
having his way. He had automatically assumed that I would join the baseball
team merely because he wanted me to join it. He was angry with me because I
wasn't enamored by his good looks and charm. I also had the audacity to sit
with Lane and his friends instead of with him and his teammates. It must
have embarrassed him to explain why I had chosen, instead, to sit with
Lane, the retard, as he called him.

I wasn't worried about his threats. The next time I would be prepared. He
cared too much about his good looks to fight with me man to man. If it had
been a fair fight in the gym, he would have left looking worse than me. I'm
no Floyd Merriweather, but I did have to defend myself a few times in
school. Except for Mike, no one had ever gotten the better of me.

When I entered the kitchen, a large salad was sitting on the counter. Lane
had even taken the time to cover it with plastic wrap. It looked good. It
appeared he had included every vegetable in the refrigerator he could
find. It contained lettuce, green and red peppers, olives, slivers of Swiss
cheese sprinkled with poppy seeds. He had placed two tomatoes and a knife
beside the bowl.

When I peeked into the dining room, he had set the table for six. I was
sure Rodney and Curtis wouldn't join us. With baseball practice beginning,
they were coming home later at night.

I went down the hall to Lane's room. The door was cracked, and I peered
inside. He was curled up asleep on his bed. I stood in the doorway and just
looked down and stared at him. He looked so peaceful and gentle. No one had
ever stolen my heart like he had. In fact, I had never let anyone
try. However, somehow over the past couple of weeks, he had become an
important part of my life. More and more each day, he was becoming my
rock. As long as he was around, I knew everything would be okay. When he
stirred slightly, I carefully closed the door and went down into the family
room to watch television until Karen and my father came home.

Dinner was interesting. It was just Lane, Karen, my father and me. As I
suspected, Curtis and Rodney didn't come home until late. I was surprised
when they both went into the kitchen and finished off what remained of the
hamburger helper.

My father was friendlier than he had been at previous dinners. He asked me
about my classes and the schedule changes. I told him I liked my new
classes, and I told them a little about the theater program. Karen thought
it would be wonderful if I auditioned for a role. I laughed and told her
how Max had suggested that I should become involved in other things.

I also told them I had something important to discuss with them after
dinner. Karen asked if anything was wrong, but I assured her there wasn't a
problem. She helped Lane and I clean up, and then I asked Lane if he would
go to his room and shut the door. He whined and pouted because he didn't
understand why he had to leave. He finally agreed when I told him I would
come to his room and talk to him later.

My father was in the family room watching the news when we went
downstairs. He turned off the television and sat up in his recliner. "What
is it you want to discuss?"

Karen sat beside me on the sofa. I took a deep breath and said, "It's not
about me, it's about Lane."

Karen became worried and asked if he had gotten into trouble. I laughed,
and then I explained how Megan and I thought he would be perfect for the
role of Kurt in the musical. When I finished, Karen started crying. She
then leaned over and hugged me tightly.

She cried into my shoulder, "I just knew Lane's world was going to change
the first time you walked through the door."

* * * * * *

This story is updated weekly at my website: www.themustardjar.com

Send comments to: ronyx@themustardjar.com

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