Date: Fri, 6 Mar 2009 03:18:19 -0500
From: John Elash <phantomscorpio77@gmail.com>
Subject: In the Shadows of Our Lives 7

All the usual disclaimers apply; be of age to read this and don't read it
if it breaks any of your local laws.  Always remember to look both ways
before you cross the road, keep both hands on the wheel, and don't pick
your nose in public.  Do not copy or share without my permission as I
retain all rights.

I'd love to hear from you; comments, constructive criticism and general
feedback are still happily accepted.  Write me if you feel so inclined at:
phantomscorpio77@gmail.com.


In the Shadows of Our Lives -- Prologue -- Spirit of the Underdog VII


Into my junior year, or Grade 11, life really started to change for me.
The first change was getting taken off the starting line for the third game
of the football season.  All after finally making Varsity, and despite
keeping up with practices through the summer!  I guess being a small
running back had worked for me before, but in game situations my legs just
weren't fast enough to compensate for the longer strides of the bigger guys
anymore.  In the first two games I was always at the right place just a
fraction too late.  In the third game my frustration became apparent.  Mom
and Arnie were both there for that game when I got pulled, as well as Jon
with Neil, Tania and Tim.  I couldn't help it; I cried a lot that night
when I was alone in bed.  I was really bummed about that.

Mom was all like `good, more time to study and chase skirts.'

What an unsupportive bitch she was to me at times, not that I hadn't
learned that that was sometimes the best I could expect from her since Dad
had screwed our lives over.  It was just misdirected anger at her situation
and I often felt the same way.  In trying to overcompensate she could
really hit a nerve sometimes.  But other than Jon, football was my only
true passion in life and she seemed clueless to how much it meant to me.

Arnie was the one who was actually really sympathetic to me while Mom just
crowed.  He tried to help me find a new interest, somewhat halfheartedly,
but still it was more than my mom cared to do.  He took me to a few Houston
Astro's games before the season ended and bought me a new ball glove so
that I could play with Tim, Neil and the guys that played baseball.  I knew
the sport, how to play and hit, I just didn't care for it like football.
The baseball distraction actually intensified my focus on football.
Eventually Arnie just told me that if I want it bad enough Coach wasn't
going to be able to ignore me forever.

By Hallowe'en Coach had taken me out of games completely and only had me
practicing.  I guess he didn't have the heart to fully rip mine out and
take football completely away from me.  Everyone said for me to stick with
it, when I grow some more I'll kick butt and all that good stuff.  You know
humor the little guy, right?

One day right before Thanksgiving weekend I was back in game action and got
accidentally clipped by one of our linemen while running a play.  The hit
wasn't hard, but I got twisted and fell the wrong way.  I don't like the
term `fell the wrong way' though.  Like how can you fall the right way when
an overgrown ogre armed with shoulder pads and acne is hell-bent on forcing
you to the ground and your own teammate inadvertently helps?

From the collision I broke my fibula which is one of two bones in the calf,
and I was in the hospital for two days because I also got a concussion.  I
was so out of it at first they wanted to do all sorts of tests and stuff on
me.  As for my leg I was told that my bones were still soft like all kids
are before they hit their teenage years, and I would have to be a lot more
careful.  I got this real dopey cast from knee to toes like you see on
silly skiing accident or car insurance commercials.  Jon visited me both
days and ran into Tim on the second day.  Neil and Tania didn't come with
Tim.  Half the football team or more visited and gave me a football they
all signed.  Even with that my friend Michael didn't pay a visit or sign
the ball.  I didn't dwell in it at the time though as I wasn't really lucid
just then anyway.

All through this Jon helped me out at school as well as Neil and Tim,
carrying my books for me and stuff.  Michael on the other hand started
treating me like I had the plague or something.  The worst part for me
though was that I had to switch out of gym class to a stupid computer class
instead for the remainder of that semester.

The first night home from the hospital Jon stayed over because I was
convincingly whiney enough.  I think Mom might have been catching on to the
idea that Jon and I were lovers.  But I told her I needed someone's help
and I for sure wasn't having her assist me with a bath or shower.  Arnie
was all for the idea too because he said that he was through wiping kid's
asses for them the day Todd was potty trained.

Five weeks later when my leg was almost healed and I had a soft cast on I
lost my balance going down stairs at school, falling down the last 3 or 4
before jarring my leg on the landing.  That time around I got a hairline
fracture on my tibia, which is the other bone in the same calf.  In
addition to the fracture high on the bone I completely dislocated my
patella, also known as the kneecap, which may have already been softened up
from the first accident.  More superficially, I strained my wrist and
deeply bruised my forearm.  I did have an operation on my knee to get the
patella put back into place.  I spent part of the week before Christmas
holidays in the hospital.

Of course with my injured leg Jon has become a horny top, and I have
discovered that I am a bottom!  Jon ended up staying over a lot.  On two of
those nights we very quickly and quietly had sex after I had a shower.  The
actual sex was sort of your get in, get it on, get off, and get out 5
minute sessions.  Even then it was when we were absolutely certain that we
would not get caught, even though the door was locked to my room and no one
else was home!  Although at first I didn't want or like Jon's man-meat in
me I got used to it easily and actually longed for the next time when he
would fill me with his dick, for the closeness it made me feel to him.

And yet I have to say though that the first time I bottomed was magic.  I
really can't say why, but it had been a while obviously since we had built
up the courage to have sex our first and only other time.  I was belly down
on my bed after shucking my shorts and soft cast from the first injury and
Jon started to massage my leg for me.  His hand moved up steadily until his
fingers were caressing my butt cheeks more than anything and his fingers
kept slipping into the crack of my butt.  Next thing I knew he was prodding
my bud and his finger slipped in so easily, despite how tense I think I
was.

It felt kinda good, kinda bad.  My dick standing at attention, I told him I
better have my shower before anyone got home.  Mom was working 4 until
midnight shifts that week, but Arnie didn't keep to any predictable
schedule in any area of his life.  We had a quick shower together, with Jon
spending most of the time and his attention on my butt.  After toweling dry
and returning to my room he asked if he could love me and I said what the
hell.

Actually, I acknowledged that I'd love for him to make love to me.

He laid me down on my bed and pushed my legs towards my chest.  I wrapped
my arms around them and he went to work fingering me again and alternately
jacking me off while licking my balls and then sucking my dick.  On my
back, staring at the ceiling I saw stars!  A few times he ventured his
tongue down to my bud, spending a little more time there each pass.  I felt
strange having him do that to me, almost embarrassed maybe.  Soon he had
one finger there and penetrated my body with it.  Then 2 fingers invaded
me.  That I will say felt all good; no real shame or pain whatsoever, only
pleasure.  After struggling to get a condom on his beautiful appendage he
lubed me up really good and gently slid his rod just past its head into me
in one thrust and then stopped.

OH MAN!  At first I thought the pain was going to split me apart!  He
stayed in me though, motionless as I waited for the pain to subside.  It
didn't at first until I started wiggling.  I didn't want to chicken out on
him, I didn't want to offend or hurt him, or make him not want me.

Lying, I encouraged him, "Oh Jon.  You feel so good.  Hurry up and get all
the way inside me.  I want you so badly."

What I really wanted was to pleasure him and get it over with as soon as
possible.  Once given the green light his shoulders rolled my legs further
towards me, my knees practically on either side of my head as he bottomed
out in me and his dick hit my g.

Sweetly he checked, "Are you O.K.?  Do you want me to stop?"

Yes, stop!  Oh please, stop you evil sodomite!  Lube or no, your angry dick
is tearing my small hole apart!  That's what I was thinking, but instead I
offered him affirmation, "Oh Jon.  I love you so much.  I want you so
badly.  You feel so amazing.  Please Jon, love me."

Hitting my `g' did sorta counter the splitting pain, and once Jon started
pumping to my surprise I actually was like `man, this feels pretty good'
for a while.  He lasted a long time, at least a lot longer than I had
inside him.  He was at least 5 minutes inside me to the point that I was
starting to get really uncomfortable again when he finally sucked in a lot
of air, pushed forcefully forward and then grunted in ecstasy as his body
shuddered and he released himself in me.  Moments later I was cumming with
Jon still inside me.

To be fully honest though, it never felt great that time, or even the next.
But I never said so, and fully intended to continue to bottom Jon because I
didn't want to upset or offend him.  I loved him and wanted him so bad.
This sorta confused the younger version of me a lot, but I reasoned that
Jon was what my heart desired and I was willing to sacrifice for him.

He stayed inside me and played his fingers along my choda, between my balls
and bud, giving me intense pleasure while I finished myself off.  When he
wasn't moving inside me, just there, I actually liked the feeling when all
the pain had subsided.

Like I said it was a five minute slam-bam-thank-you-man between his
entering me and my getting off.  The highlight was probably afterward when
he entered me again and we had a good make out session, once we both came
down from our orgasms.  It sure wasn't hot steamy sex.  It was pretty
un-coordinated.  On the other hand it was the extraordinary solidification
of every feeling we had and the last way to express it to each other.  We
kissed for as long as we dared before he pulled out and wiped me down.  I
put my Joe Boxer pajama pants on and he put his Haynes on and opened the
door and crashed in Todd's bed.

Yeah, that was another thing, since the pot party at the beginning of the
summer I wasn't allowed to have my door closed when I went to bed, and not
at all when Jon was over.  But really, who was my mom kidding with that;
with her working noon to eight or four to midnight, two out of every three
weeks I was home alone more than not anyhow.  Somewhere between
Thanksgiving and Christmas that rule was loosely forgotten.  Some nights
Mom probably didn't even know whether Jon was over or not.

Getting back to the night I bottomed for the first time; that night Jon and
I shared the remaining vestiges of our innocence with each other and only
each other.  So I say that first time was magic because that was it.  We
had given each other everything we have to offer emotionally, spiritually
and now physically.  In every way except self sex, we had now completely
and exclusively given each other the full extent of our own virginities.
We had almost decided to forgo condoms because before each other we were
both total virgins and without them it was easier for us to hide our sex,
but we used them anyhow.

Don't get me wrong here; we sure didn't fuck like bunnies.  Between my two
hospital visits Jon and I only got around to having full blown sex for the
second time.  Try planning an opportunity to get some sweet ass with the
likelihood of Arnie and Mom around home or with Jon's mom and his sisters
at his place.  In fact we only ever managed to do it a whopping total of
three times!  Yeah, you gotta be careful.

Jon had bought me another Timon when I was in the hospital at Christmas
time and Mom let me keep that one.  That's probably because I never let her
see him!  But a few nights Jon and I actually chanced sleeping together
instead for a while rather than with the stuffed animals we'd exchanged.
We'd set his watch alarm so that he could get back to Todd's bed before Mom
or Arnie got up.

Anyhow, the day I got out of the hospital the second time Arnie got Jon and
I both puppies from one of his mechanic that was having a hard time getting
rid of them.  I guess the guy was a breeder, and had a registered
Rottweiler that got knocked up by an unregistered one and the guy couldn't
sell then for any good money.  I named my boy Rocky and Jon named his boy
Bandit.

Try training a big-ass dog on crutches and with a wrist brace!  Stop, sit,
heal...yeah right you and what army are gonna make me?  How about YOU sit,
broken boy????  And Rex being around didn't help me any.  He was fully
trained, but a huge distraction for Rocky.  So Arnie mostly trained Rocky
and had me help so that he would listen to my voice too.  Mom didn't like
Rocky at all, but I think Arnie really did.  Heck, he even helped Jon with
Bandit.  Mom however was pissed with Arnie and swore that I had to get rid
of Rocky, but he shot her down.  That was the only time I ever heard Mom
and Arnie argue about me.  Their argument will always stick with me.

Arnie matter-of-factly told Mom, "Beth, your boy sure as hell ain't no
sissy.  Who knows, he may end up a fruit loop.  I'm not sure yet.  But I'm
telling you, fruit loop or not.  If he's stuck being a little guy?  He
better at least have a big dog with a big bite, or a bigger gun."

Hell, I'd have gone for both, especially the bigger gun seeing as how they
are commonplace in Houston.  Mom on the other hand reluctantly settled for
Rocky.  What my mom had to say about me has festered over the years and has
driven a wedge between us that I don't care to relate.  Not that most of
what Arnie said was any better.

I guess what tipped them off is that one thing everyone noticed about me as
I'd grown some is that my voice hadn't deepened a whole lot.  At least my
friends thought that it was just that I was severely behind in developing.
Tim was really cool with me and stopped Neil from making fun of it if he
happened to choose to get on my case.  Train still treated me like I was
his favourite little brotha from a white motha too, so if you messed with
me you messed with him.  Still, despite that threat some people even came
right out and told me to my face that I sound kinda faggy.

Put that with the fact that I was like almost hairless and to this very day
still have the delicate gay boy look to me and straight people just assume
more often than not that I'm a homo behind my back.  I mean sure, of course
I am, but how do they know for sure?  Back then there wasn't a telltale
sign that I can think of.  Like, were they there anytime Jon and I did
anything remotely sexual or boyfriend-esque?  Ixnay, it never happened.
There's only ever was one slip up between Jon and I, we are so careful
because we were so afraid, and we get scared so many times that we didn't
often even do anything anyhow.  So just because I have long eyelashes,
perfect eyebrows and defined cheek bones I supposedly look gay?  At least I
don't have a noticeable adam's apple.

As for that slip up?  At school one day near the end of January Jon was
helping me and we accidentally held hands in the hallway.  Not like holding
my boyfriends hands kinda holding hands, it was like he was handing me
something and our fingers accidentally momentarily entwined.  Just a bout
of being un-coordinated.  But we all know what high school rumors and kids
are like!  Poof, just like that because one girl saw the slip and had a big
mouth we were pointed out as fags by like everyone, even minor niners.
Damn I wanted to Nancy Kerrigan that stupid cow!

Even so, that talk died down quickly because people didn't really think it
of us, it was high school after all and they just needed some hot gossip.
Soon enough something juicier came along.  Plus Debbie Van De Berg wasn't
exactly liked so people knew that she could have made the whole thing up
too.  That, and unlike me, Jon didn't look or sound gay at all.

As for me, to this day, yeah I think that people put my soft voice with my
small size and angular looks and think I am delicate.  Being delicate is as
good as being a fag in most people's minds.  Still, I'd tell them what
about Mike Tyson, my voice is deeper than that guys!  Then they'd say stuff
like `well look at him, he's the toughest guy in the world'.  I then would
flex and say I'll be him someday.  Like c'mon, I had pecks, I had abs, I
had decent tennis balls for biceps.  Not all that impressive you might say,
but in proportion to my body I was seriously built, and if I didn't look
like a pretty boy in the face and was taller people would still think I'm
built.

The only people that for sure knew I'm gay were Todd and Coach, and both
were real cool to me, not jerks.  I did get picked on because of my size,
but because I was so close friends with a lot of the football guys I just
had to tell Train and he'd just stare at the person for me and they totally
back off.

Maybe I haven't filled you in on Train.  Train is huge and even then was
built just like the NFL linemen.  In school no one messed with him because
he was way tougher off the football field than on, and he was getting
mad-scouted by big name colleges so it tells you he's good on the field.
Man, Train was at least 6'4" and I was like at eye level with the nipples
on his pecks.  He was totally plated with muscles, like the wrestler Scott
Steiner, or maybe Brock Lessner, and with abs too!  But he was cool too, he
liked me for my determination and even though we all knew I was just too
small to play ball he didn't forget about me.  Of course the other thing
about him that gave him stature was that owned guns and word was that he
both knew how to use them and wasn't afraid to.

Man oh man, I thought that my life was gonna be over on that day when Jon
and I slipped up.  Instead when the crap started about Jon and I being fags
Train helped me out and was like spreading some bogus story about some
chick he caught us tag-team banging at a party.  He even started my locker
room nick-name "Half Way", because nearing 17 years of age I once bragged
that I was still so short that it sometimes looked like my boner reached
like half way up my torso!  When I sat it seriously did pass my belly
button and reach part way between that and my nipples!  It was in the
average length as far as penises go, but I sure wasn't in the average
height as far as boys go.  Such is life under 5 feet.

And so the only thing Train didn't know, or at least I think he didn't
know, was that at that Hollowe'en party that he cited, he was too drunk to
realize that the "girl" Jon and I were banging wasn't anywhere to be seen!
Or maybe he was just being a friend and protecting me anyhow.  Not that Jon
and I were having sex at that party though or even glancing at each other
like we wanted to; we weren't near stupid enough to ever try that!

The party was at Tania's.  Tania and I went back to grade 2 so we were
really pretty close back then.  As a result of our friendship I could
always bring who I wanted to her parties.  Jon and I just passed out on the
same bed like we'd done before.  Michael was there too, on a throw rug on
the floor because the bed was too small for three passed out guys.  And
hell no, there was no girl in the room with us that we were double teaming
on like Train thought or said, and the only reason he even got to see my
dick that night was because I had passed out and Michael thought it would
be funny to take my clothes all off me and hide them in a freezer.

You know, Trick or Treat?  I got the trick and anyone who got to laugh at
my predicament got the treat.  Stupid straight boys and their need to
humiliate each other!  I guess what Train saw was my exposed morning wood
or my drunk dick.  [Yeah, I got bad boners when I drank a lot.  Teenage
hormones find a way to defy a lot of things.]

So long story short, Train shut people up for me about the gay stuff and
Jon and I holding hands saying that even if it were true that we held hands
momentarily it'd be because I lost my balance or something.  No one
bothered to argue him.  Part of me wanted him to say who cares if we were
gay; they still had to deal with him if they had a problem.  The wiser part
of me didn't really hope that he'd imply that I was gay, especially not
knowing how even he'd react.  As my first and last line of physical defense
I needed him fully on my side.  Still my mind played out different
scenarios, especially the one Jon suggested, that Train was probably a
closet case just like us.

The bigger rumor that caught on through the locker room was that my dick
was huge.  After Train said something I noticed on the rare occasion when
I'd go to work out that the guys in the locker room would steal a glance,
either for themselves or because girls begged them to find out.  Not ego
here, I know based on published studies that it's average, but on my body
it sure looks impressive enough to me.  So the word was getting around and
I guess little me became a quiet measuring stick, so to say.  I could
definitely handle people talking about that, but of course it came with the
jeers that I still look like a 12 year old kid too.  I guess you take the
good with the bad.

While in casts I had a huge and somewhat painful growth spurt during all of
it reached 4' 10", one inch shorter than my final height.  It wasn't until
Valentine's Day that I was close to fully healed.  That was the end of the
line for Jon and me.

Looking back on that time, I realize that without football in my life 5
nights a week I was going crazy.  At first I couldn't even go to the gym.
With casts and too many broken bones that really wasn't in the cards all
that often.  I just went to school and went home.  Jon couldn't devote his
whole life to me as he had school, two jobs and home to balance on top of
me.  Neil and Tim became my refuge and I started spending more time with
them than I had since grade 9.  I guess I haven't mentioned them all that
much because mostly everything I've shared with you was behind their backs.
Still, they had been my friends since early grade 9; they just don't really
have much to do with this story, much like the time Jon spent with his best
friend Michael.

I will say though that Michael on the other hand became a jerk to me
because I didn't play football anymore, and he therefore didn't have the
time for me.  He also bought into the whole gay rumors drama and called me
a fag behind my back I had heard.  I mean sure, sometimes I got tired of
playing my Nintendo 64 or Tim's Playstation with him, or listening to
Neil's messed up theories on pretty much everything in the universe, but
they showed me that they were real friends.  Neil just winked at me with a
sure-sure smile on his face when I said I wasn't gay, while I'm certain Tim
at least took me for my word and seemed totally ambivalent as to what the
big deal about other people's sexuality was all about anyway.  Basically
they were not superficial asses like Michael.

Now for those wondering, the third and last time that Jon and I had sex was
on New Year's Day 2000.  It was sometime fairly early in the morning.  Mom
and Arnie hadn't made it home yet from wherever it was that they were.
Their absence that morning afforded us our last time of unchecked passion
together.  Jon and I were at the festivities at City Hall with a decent
sized group from our school.  Neil and Tania were there as well as Tim with
his soon to be ex-girlfriend Jenna Scott.  Jon and I floated between them
and Michael, Train and my football brothers.

After celebrating the start of Y2K we were on our way back to my place.
Once there, we made out for a bit and then went to bed.  I woke that
morning with Jon in my bed, lovingly caressing me.  After ascertaining that
we were alone we threw caution to the wind as much as we dared.  We made
out as we had earlier, and did a little oral on each other which got us
both excited.  Unaware of the euphoria of things like necking, but being
introduced to it for the very first time by Jon, I was still quite
mechanical.  Eventually Jon was in me, loving me and we welcomed in the new
millennium that morning with our own fireworks.

From that point on life got very quiet, very routine for a while.  On the
Friday just after Valentine's Day Tania and her sister threw another party
because their parents were letting them.  You see, because my friends
belonged to two different social groups normally I would either go with
Neil and Tim, or with Michael, Train and Jon.  For some reason this was
more of the `baseball' crowd party than the `football' party, which went
against the norm for the Crosby sisters.

Normally I would have gone with Jon, Michael and Train, or just with Jon,
or even by myself.  Seeing as Tim and Neil were going to be there anyway,
Jon and I arrived with them instead.  This pissed Michael off bad because
he liked Tania and I think the only reason I personally was any use to him
anymore was because even though he'd known her just as long as me I was one
of her few guy friends and thereby his link to her.  Michael was so rude to
Neil and Tim, and he tried to pick a fight with Neil, but Tim being bigger
stepped in for Neil.

I never really thought of Tim as tough.  He was just Tim to me.  By looks
he's your stereotypical Abercrombie and Fitch model, and by nature he's the
most sedate, mellow, easy going guy I've ever known.  Being a baseball
player with good looks and a body that showed that he worked out I guess I
misjudged him as all show no substance.  Yet I was still blown away that he
kicked Michael's ass!  It was pretty quick; Tim only took a single punch to
the face as he got a couple in on Michael.  He threw a couple at Michael's
face, and when Michael was recoiling he threw a hard one at Michael's
sternum.  As Michael doubled over Tim kneed Michael in the face and then
got behind him and buckled him by kicking Michael in the back of the knee.

Afterward Michael left and then came back with a bat.  It was so silly, so
out of a movie.  What was funnier was that he came after me with the bat.

"You little faggot!  You used to be my best friend, and now you take my
best friend Jon from me because you want to get at me?  You want to suck
his dick so bad that it shows, and you bring your faggot friends to this
party to insult me because Tania likes one of them?  Look at him, he's a
shot hairy mutt, and a fag just like you.  She likes a fag when she can
have me?  And you Rice; you're a worthless piece of shit who sucks so bad
that Coach even dumped you from the team finally.  Hopefully you sucked
dick as good as you sucked at life!"

And with that he came at me with the bat.  I managed to avoid his swing,
but I cracked my head against the doorway as I was trying to run past him
out of the room I was cornered in.  Just like that I was knocked out from
my own doing while trying to avoid getting beaten with a bat.  Apparently
that was the only swing Michael got at me before Train was on him and
punched his face in.  Almost literally too, Train broke Michael's nose and
cheek bone.

When I came around there were police and ambulance people all over the
place.  I heard that it only took the one punch in the face from Train and
Michael was knocked out too!  A lot of us got questioned by the police, and
Michael, Train, and Tim got taken to the cop shop.  I never found out if
anyone pressed charges or anything though.  Instead I got a trip to the
hospital, with my second concussion.  Ironically, handcuffed to a bed on
the other side of the curtain from me in the examination room at the
hospital was Michael, being tended to before he got taken to the police
station.

When Arnie got to the hospital to pick me up he had a good sized piece of
metal sticking out of his back pocket and some of his buds with him.  Not
being the most upstanding of citizens, he was on a first name basis with
one of the cops standing guard in emergency, and got me in exchange for his
pipe or whatever he had.  With me in tow, he flashed a blade and threatened
Michael's dad that he would fuck with him soon, but I gather he never did.
I hear he pressured Coach Maynes to give Michael a real hard go of it at
practices and not play him in games until he quit.

The night of the Valentine's fight, Arnie got his buds to round up Jon and
Neil and bring them over to our place so that he could find out what the
hell was going on.  After the guys all left and it was just the four of us
Arnie got pretty blunt.  In front of Jon and Neil he called me a faggot and
told me not to be mad at Michael for coming after me but instead thank him
that we learned a good lesson about what happens to fags.

He told me that he had talked to his and Dad's oldest brother Jimmy who
lives in St. Louis.  They and my mother had talked before about getting me
somewhere where I didn't have to try so hard to be what I'm not.  He
figured I best say goodbye to my friends right then as I was surely going
to be moving to Missouri, and then promptly told Neil and Jon to get going.

That was it; there was no room for discussion.  The fight was on a Friday
night, and come Sunday night I was a resident of St. Louis, Misery, U.S.A.
I had less than 24 hours to pack my life before it got loaded into the bed
of Arnie's Ford 4x4 and I was on my way.  I never got a chance to say
goodbye to anyone, let alone spend a moment with Jon.  Yes I had a
concussion, but it still would have been a whirlwind blur anyhow, it all
happened so abruptly.

When I got to St. Louis, Jimmy was nothing like I expected.  He is unlike
Dad, Arnie and Sonny.  He's from a completely better stock than his
brothers.  Jimmy doesn't even like to be called Jimmy.  He professionally
goes by James, and has an amazing house, wife, 3 kids I never knew, and is
clean cut.  He had a professional looking, short, neatly cropped
businessman haircut.  He still is a chiropractor and is respected in his
community for his positions on the city council, Ronald McDonald House
Charity Board, and Big Brother's council as well as his other numerous
community involvements.

Uncle James was unlike anything I had really known growing up, because I
always saw respect given to the guys that you didn't want to mess with
physically or financially.  Of course I hated it immediately.  What the
hell, I used to live by my own rules and did quite well I thought, and all
of a sudden I got some structured, sappy family environment I've never
known forced down my throat?  Writing this was about the only productive
thing I accomplished living there.




[Note to the reader : The following is the ending as it was mostly intended
for SotU before I decided to revise it and fold it into the larger story
titled In the Shadows of Our Lives.  Major spoilers have been removed.]




Flash forward to today.

Well lets just say that Uncle James didn't suffer fools lightly.  After a
couple months of my acting out and being an all around little brat he
forced me into the Air Cadets.  Not having any direction or discipline in
my life started losing its hold on me and I excelled in the structured
environment.  On my 18th birthday I joined the Armed Forces.  My stature
limited me in some ways, but eventually I got my wings and served over seas
flying supply aircrafts until I fell out of a cargo plane and busted my
knee up real good again.  After surgery and my honorable discharge I took 6
months to travel the world and find myself, loosely modeling it after the
movie The Beach.  My adventures were quite sedate and different however.

Returning home a little more than a year ago I wasn't sure at first where I
fit back in into society.  I was more or less homeless until Uncle James
extended the offer to me of a home and to help get me on my feet again.  He
hasn't talked much with Mom or Arnie since I got pawned onto him over nine
years ago.  Banking on my experience in the service, I landed a job
piloting for a national courier, based out of Memphis.

A few months ago I used some days off to visit Houston for the first time.
I didn't stop by Arnie's shop, Sonny's restaurant, or Mom and Arnie's.
Instead I went to Charlene's renovated house to get caught up on Jon.

Charlene herself is nearing retirement and is finally for the first time
financially secure as she re-married.  She only works one job now, as Front
End Manager/Head Cashier at the Walmart Super Centre, and dropped her other
job at the liquor store.

I guess Coach always had a soft spot for Jon and I, and that spurred on a
lot of change for him.  He now rents his house out to students that have
problem homes.  He actually moved up to Principal, and then to School Board
Superintendant and along the way developed an official housing program for
troubled teens.

Bandit apparently had a good, but short life.

Train managed to turn pro and went to a few camps but never made it.  He's
now a shop assistant at my old school, Parkwood, and coach for the football
team.

Michael works for a fast food restaurant, still waiting for his life to
take off.

Neil and Tania got married in Vegas right after graduation.  They had two
daughters before separating, only to get together and split up again.
Tania and her girls live in San Antonio now.  Neil is in prison for
aggravated assault, kidnapping and attempted murder charges.

Tim is happily married and has a son and daughter.

I don't know what happened to Todd.  He's not in the phonebook, and Coach
Maynes never heard from or of him after he graduated.

As for my mom and Arnie, they're also married now.  I never got invited, or
even knew until that visit.  First I heard was through Coach.  Uncle James
didn't even know.

I guess my dad should have been out of the slammer now too.  Only he got
into more trouble when he was doing his time Uncle James says.  I don't
care though.  I almost hope he got raped daily by a huge guy named Butch or
Tiny or something.  That would be irony.  If I ever see him again it will
be purely by his efforts or chance.  Let's face it, I hardly remember him
now.  I know what it was like for Jon to not have a father.  I doubt my dad
even gives a shit about me so it more likely would be a meeting by chance
and not by his efforts.  I've had to deal with my demons, and became more
than he could have let me be.

As for Jon, Coach and Charlene both say he silently pined away for me when
I got ripped out of his life.  He moped around for a while after I left and
finally came out to her and his sisters.  He went on to university and made
it out on top despite some setbacks.  He did get over me though.  He's had
a hard life for someone so young, but he's happy now and doing well.  I
guess I was a bit player in the grand scheme of his life.

Oh Jon, how I loved you.

I knew Jon would get by, I knew he'd be alright.  He had a way of just
rolling with the punches and getting back up.  Sure it may hurt him more
than he'll ever let anyone know, but he'll forever put on a brave face for
all to see.  I may be the little guy and always have to fight for my
status, but Jon's where I got my inspiration.  I always thought he had the
spirit of the underdog.

For my part I still carry a flame for him after all these years.  I could
have written.  I could have called.  I should have written.  I should have
called.  Instead I once wrote a cowardly email at Christmas time and left
him with a broken heart based on the Christmas card I got back.  But mine
got broken that day too, back on Valentine's Day in 2000!  While this hurts
me to write, I am happy that he's happy now.  We've talked a little since I
recently got his number.  It's funny how cliche it is, but thoughts of Jon
are what kept me going a lot of the time.  I guess time changes things
though, and I have had to get my life on track with Jon as just a fond
memory from my past.

As for me, after playing it `straight' throughout my entire time in
St. Louis and in the service there is a guy in my life now.  He's a little
guy, 4'11", handsome, with a great body and gentle features.  He has very
recently landed a great job; now flying for a major national airline based
out of Los Angeles and has just relocated there this year.  More important,
he's found himself, he's confident and happy in who he is.  I've actually
known him for some time now, yet it's funny, he was a stranger for so long
that I didn't recognize him at first.  That someone is me!

And still, no matter the distance, no matter the time, I'm just a phone
call away.

Like the Bon Jovi song Blood On Blood:

"Through the years and miles between us
It's been a long and lonely ride
But if I got that call in the dead of night
I'd be right by your side."


I still love you Jon,

Your Timon.





[end of Prologue]

up next:  On Broken Wings