Date: Sat, 16 Jan 2010 14:39:03 -0800 (PST)
From: Jeff N <jwnuwm@yahoo.com>
Subject: Cutters Wounds  New Story

Cutter's Wounds
By: Jeff N
(Copyright 2009 by the author)
Editor: Madison Cole

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the
author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

  Chapter 1
Moving In Next Door


It was a typical summer Saturday in August. My Dad, Mike Johnson, and I
were out doing our weekly lawn yard work. Dad was working in the front yard
trimming some of the bushes that were in need of care. I was using the old
push mower in the back yard. I had just finished cleaning the lawnmower to
place it in the shed. Heading around the side of the house, I saw my dad
talking to a well dressed man that I did not know. As I approached the two
men and listened a moment to their conversation. Dad turned around, saw me,
and smiled. He introduced me to the realtor from Star Reality, the real
estate firm that had the home next door listed for sale.

"Cole," Dad said, this Mr. Lawson, the realtor who had the listing next
door. He's just told me he's sold the house to a family named Lane." As I
shook Mr. Lawson's hand, he kept chatting with my dad about the house. He
said that the closing would be later this coming week and the family was
going to be moving in the second weekend in August. He also said that he
knew they had only one son and that he was about the same age as me. He
suggested that I could help him get acquainted with the school and life in
our city.

At this point I began thinking to myself, What did he mean by `get him used
to life in the city? It seemed like a fair enough question, so I asked
directly, "Mr. Lawson, could I ask what you mean by me helping this guy get
used to `city life?'"

"Well, Cole, you see the Lane family is from Wyoming. They are not used to
the big city, or for that matter, any city. Now, the father has worked in
the city for a long time, traveling and being away from home. He was
offered the position with Alliance Industries here in town and decided it
was time to move. The son apparently is not at all happy about the
move. According to Mr. Lane, he is rather countrified and not very
flexible. He thought maybe having a friend in the city would help him
adjust. If it's a problem, I am sorry I mentioned you, but I thought it
would just be handy with you living right next door and all."

I felt a bit sheepish as I replied, "Oh, no, sir. Don't take what I said
the wrong way. I am totally willing to help however I can. I remember when
we moved here five years ago, Randy, the guy who used to live here, made me
feel so welcome. I was just curious as to what the new guy is like."

Mr. Lawson answered, "I am afraid I can't be of much help other than what I
have told you, as I have never met the boy."

With that bit of information, I excused myself from the conversation and
went into the house to grab a bottle of soda. With my soda in hand, I went
to my bedroom to get ready to shower the layers of grime off my body from
the hard morning of work. Sitting in my desk chair, I found my mind
wandering. What the hell kind of country hick is going to be moving in next
door? What have I gotten myself into? I am going to have some stupid
country bumpkin tailing me around school and around town. Why the hell do
people just assume that I will do these damned things? Maybe I am just too
fucking nice.

I kicked off my old shoes, leaned down, and my mind again began to
wander. Soon I felt a small tear make its way from my eye to my cheek. I
felt the emotion building within me again. Goddamn, I thought I was past
this—past my best friend and more being ripped away to move a thousand
miles away. Randy became my almost instant best friend when I moved in five
years ago. God, I miss him so damned much! Why did his parents have to move
him away? I just sat there with tears streaming down my face again. After a
time I moved into the shower, cleaning myself.

A couple of days later I got a call from the coach informing me that
football practice would start on August 10. That would at least take up
some of my free time. My daily routine went on pretty much as normal for
the next week or so. That is, until the second Friday of August arrived. We
did not have football practice, so I had the whole day to myself as the
parents were working all day. About ten in the morning a huge Mayflower
moving semi pulled up next door, followed immediately by three vehicles.

I stood watching from my bedroom window. Of course, out of the semi came
three rather large men dressed in coveralls who were ready to start moving
the new neighbors in. The first vehicle was a Black Ford Explorer. When it
parked, a good looking tall man with brown hair got out. He was wearing a
pair of jeans, t-shirt and a pair of Nike's. I assumed this had to be the
dad. The second car was a red Taurus. Out of it stepped an average sized
women with blonde hair. As she came into clearer view, I could that she was
absolutely gorgeous. The last vehicle to pull up and park was a shiny black
Ford F-250 with big tires and a nice graphics package. I was actually kind
of impressed, and I wished I had a truck to match his.

Staring down at the truck, I was waiting for the person driving to
emerge. No one got out for the longest time. Finally the father went over
and rapped on the driver's side window. I could tell he wasn't happy with
who ever was in the truck, because he began talking in a raised voice and
making some hand gestures. After finishing the point he was trying to make
he walked away and went up to the house. I stayed in place and continued to
watch. Soon I could see the driver's door crack open a bit.

I assumed the guy who finally stepped out of the truck was the Lane's
son. He looked about my age. I froze in place staring at him. He was
tall. My guess would be that he was six feet two inches, just like me, and
he also had about the same build as me. He had kind of medium dark brown
hair. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses so I could not see his
eyes. Still, he was totally the most beautiful male I had ever seen in all
my life. I had this strange tingling all over my body. My mouth immediately
became dry and my eyes locked on him.

Then things began to change a little. I began to observe more. The guy
reached back into his truck, grabbed his black cowboy hat, and put it in
place on his head. As I looked further down his body, I saw he was wearing
a tight white t-shirt. From there around his waist was a black belt being
held closed in the front by a silver and gold oval buckle that was about
the size of my dinner plate! His jeans were well faded and also nice and
tight. Without even knowing it I guessed they had to be Wranglers. On his
feet was a pair of dusty, black cowboy boots.

I stood there thinking to myself, what the fuck is this guy wearing? I
almost laughed to myself at what the way he was dressed. What kind of rub
is moving in next door to me? And I'm supposed help show him around? Hmmmmm
... maybe he can be changed.

I immediately sensed that he was not at all happy. He had a look that could
kill on his face as he stormed in the house. That was the last I saw of him
for a while. I went about my business as normal. My mom called about three
p.m., and I told her about the people moving in next door. I was instructed
to go and introduce myself and ask them over for supper that night.

After I finished up with mom on the phone, I went out and crossed the lawn
between our two houses. I found Mr. Lane sorting some things out in the
front yard.

"Hi, Mr. Lane, I am Cole Johnson from next door. Welcome to the
neighborhood," I said, extending my hand.

Mr. Lane returned the handshake, "Thank you, Cole, and please call me
Brad."

"Well, Brad, my mom wanted to invite you and your family over for supper
this evening about seven. It's not anything fancy—just pizza from the
local pizzeria."

"Sounds good after a long day of moving, Cole. We will be there."

"Speaking of `we,' sir, I know you have a son. I was wondering if I could
introduce myself and say hello to him."

"Sure, that would be fine, but I have to tell you that you're taking your
chances going anywhere near that boy," Mr. Lane said, shaking his head and
looking dejected.

"How do you mean, sir?"

"He has been in the worst mood I have ever seen him in. He is having a
really difficult time adjusting to the move. He really had to leave all he
knew, his friends and everything, so it's been hard on him. But we had to
take this job; there was just no other choice. I feel bad and it hurts me
that he is just so full of anger."

"I will take my chances, sir. I think maybe he just needs a friend, someone
his own age."

With that said, I headed into the house to find the room that I knew he
would be in. It was the same room I had been in with Randy hundreds of
times. I quickly relived some of my fondest memories as I stood outside the
door. I gently knocked but received no answer. I then knocked a little more
firmly.

Again there was no answer, so I grabbed the knob and opened the
door. Stepping in, I could see someone sitting in the desk chair facing
away from me.

"I can tell I am going to have to lock that fucking door. What the hell do
you want?  You're here to ruin more of my life?" he said in an almost
deadly voice.

"I am sorry I am ruining your life, but I don't even really know you yet. I
just wanted to introduce myself," I said with a smirk on my face.

He slowly turned around in the chair to face me. "Well, if it isn't mister
preppy city jock star neighbor boy! Just what the fuck do you want?"

"Well, to start out, mister cowboy, country, hick Podunk, new neighbor, how
about your fucking name?  I am Cole."

I could see his muscles tense as I was calling him those names, but I gave
a shit. "Name is Cutter, now get the fuck out. I don't need any damned
friends in this shit hole."

"Fine, asshole, but I will be around if you change your mind," I offered.

"I won't! Now get the fuck out!"

I moved to the door and left the room, dejected. Even though he was such an
asshole, his voice was so, so right and his smell and just seeing him close
up. He was just perfect. I got that strange tingling feeling all over
again.


To be continued...