Date: Sat, 7 Apr 2001 22:34:44 EDT From: Justin69SK@aol.com Subject: Luke's Secret Art Chapter 8 April 5, 2001 Luke's Secret Art Chapter 8 Written By: Justin Case ------------ Disclaimer: The story you are about to read is real, the names have been changed to protect the guilty. I should know, I wrote it. The tale is about young love, gay love. So if you find it offensive you have my permission to leave. Now, one more little thing: this story is written in graphic detail and you should be of legal age to read it. If you got this far you've seen all the other warnings as well. The copyright laws of the United States of America protect this story. The author (me), his editors, and the web site publisher accept no responsibility for the actions of the reader. Remember, you shouldn't try these things at home, the people that are portrayed are professionals. ------------ SoapBox: Haha, here I am again, did you miss me? I missed you. Thanks for all the mail. Don't forget if you got a problem and want to talk to me, send me a Dear Justin letter. You'll find my column at my web site, the address is www.http://justinscorner.homestead.com Don't worry, I change the names and places so your anonymity will stay intact. If you just want to send me a letter or IM the address is Justin69SK@aol.com Don't be shy. OK, so where was I in my virus saga? (See Michael's Secret Love Chapt 13 Soap Box) I was on the phone with Microsoft; after several minutes of that wonderful music, "Thank you for calling Microsoft, my name is Michael, how can we help you today?" Oh boy, I'm in a pissy mood, have just spent hours trying to figure out how to save my stories in txt. after I write them in wps. with Works2000. I used to be able to do that and convert it to html. Since my virus and reload I can't seem to get it to work. When I go to txt., several of my characters become symbols. When I go to html., everything becomes double-spaced, and then it won't let me edit the extra lines out. What do I get? Some nut who thinks he's more than one person. I knew I was in trouble. I explained my problem as best I could, now remember I am not a techie. "Well, did you try to re- install?" Hello, did he not hear me when I told him this all started after the virus and I had to re-install? "Yes, I did, this all started happening after I re-installed." Oh, why me? "Well, there you go, you must have done it wrong. You'll need to un-install and then re- install." Here we go. "Are you sure? I had problems like this when I first got the computer but somehow they got fixed, I don't remember how but they did. I've talked to others that know what I'm talking about, I mean there must be something I'm doing wrong. Can I talk to a technician?" Oh no, now I had gone and done it. "Sir, I am a technician. You need to un-install everything and re-install." I'll be damned, I say to myself, but to him I say, "Can I talk to a programmer? Someone must have heard about this problem before, I mean, I can't be the only one out here. Others I know have gotten some sort of tool that allows them to convert these symbols and double spacing offline." "Where did you get this software? Did you buy it retail or did it come with your computer?" Uh oh, the loaded question. "It came with my computer." Now the whammy. "I'm sorry, sir, you need to call the manufacturer of the computer. We can't help you here." Click. To be continued, I promise. Hell, I got to get this off my chest. Thanks for listening. LOL. Don't be cruel, take it easy on me. ------------ I heard him breathing, but he didn't answer. I wondered what it was he wanted to say. I couldn't help it. "Travis?" "Yes, Luke?" "What is it, what did you want to tell me?" "I don't know. Don't worry about it, it will keep. You have too many other things to worry about." Damn. What do I do now? I thought, I mean, if he was going to say what I'd hoped he was, I wanted to know. My only fear was what if he wasn't going to say what I'd wanted to hear. What should I do? I contemplated that for several minutes. I finally decided it was too soon to talk about my true feelings. Call me selfish, I am. I wanted to keep him as a friend, even if I had to pretend not to have the desires I did for him. I noticed his foot was putting more pressure on mine. I even thought I could feel him moving his foot a little. I pushed my foot back toward his; I just did it like it was something I wasn't aware of. I was completely aware of it though; my cock was full staff. "Luke?" "Yeah?" "Are you all right?" "Yeah, just a little upset. I mean, I wasn't really that close to my dad. I loved him and he loved me. I just didn't have one of those `father/son' kind of relationships you read about our see on television." I explained it the best way I knew how. "Yeah, I never really got to know my father either. I always wanted to play baseball, but couldn't catch. I wanted a father so he could teach me how." "My dad never had time." The tears began to well up in my eyes. I wanted Travis to comfort me. I wanted him to take me in his arms and tell me everything was going to be all right. I longed for his companionship. I never had a real friend before. So many of the guys that go to Sacred Heart were not at all like me. I was jealous of many though; they all seemed to have friends. All I had until now were my paints. I lay there and ran the video in my brain. I played tapes back of my father and me when I was younger. I remembered how much fun we used to have in the back yard; it was just a few years earlier when we'd play catch. He had gotten busy with work and never seemed to have time for me, or my mother for that matter. The last few years he always worked late. Then he pushed his firm into international status and began to travel. My dad always seemed to be going somewhere. I was at school and too busy to really notice, until now. Now it was too late. I quietly cried, I didn't want Travis to hear me. "Luke?" I didn't answer. I felt his hand as he took mine. He grasped my hand and I grasped his back. I slowly drifted off to sleep, holding his hand. The next day was a complete and total blur. We had my grandmother come in and she kind of took over. She was like that; she has a commanding sort of personality. Just like my father, I remember thinking. My grandmother is a beautiful person, don't get me wrong. She stands about five foot eight. Her hair is always worn on top of her head, in a neat gray bun. Her soft eyes are a cross between green and blue. Her face shows her age, but gracefully. She has a wide smile that is warm and inviting. I think it's her hands that I like the best. Her long and delicate fingers always are touching others. I love the feeling I get when she puts her hands on either side of my face. She is a soft-spoken woman, but leaves little room for mistaking her wants and needs. Grandmother took charge of all the arrangements at the funeral parlor. I think it was because my mother was in such a state of shock. Travis had come along with us. I was happy to have him by my side. We sat in the parlor and talked with the funeral director. I began to realize that this was it, my father was dead. He wasn't coming back. I would never be able to talk to him again. The funeral home made it so final. Perhaps it was the way it was furnished in all dark colors. I sat in a chair and watched it all go by. "We have a full line of caskets," the tall man in the black suit explained so eloquently. I sat there and watched as my mother and grandmother picked out a casket. I listened as they talked about where he would be placed for his final rest. I couldn't understand how they could talk about it in such terms. I began to cry, I couldn't control myself. Things were happening too fast; I had no power over them. I had to accept what was happening before me. My whole body was trembling. Travis took my hand and walked me out. "Yes, dear. Why don't you and Luke get some fresh air? We won't be long," Grandmother said to him as he led me out of the room. It was decided we would have a memorial service that evening. The burial would be in the morning. So quick. So very, very quick. `In the Blink of an Eye'. I wanted to have one more chance, just one more time to tell my father how I felt. I wanted to have just one more time to tell him who I was and what I thought. There would be no more times, we would bury his body in the morning. I couldn't stop crying. My whole insides felt like they were twisting and turning. I felt like I needed to vomit. We stood on the steps to the funeral home. It was freezing out, but I didn't care. The cold was stinging at my face as the tears streamed down. The mucus in my nostrils froze. I must have looked like a mess. I felt Travis' arm around my shoulder; it was the only warmth I felt. I watched the traffic as the cars zipped by in front of us. I saw the people in the street, busy Christmas shopping, their arms all full of bundles. He would never see the shirt and tie. Fuck Jerry Garcia and his stupid ties, I thought. Travis said nothing; he just kept his arm around me. He let me cry. He let me cry until there were no more gasps, no more tears or sobs. I stood next to him in silence, but I was angry. I was angry with God for taking my father. I was angry at his practice, I was angry with myself. Finally, I was angry with my mother and grandmother for taking so long in that damn house of death. "Luke, you going to be all right?" His sweet, comforting voice cut the cold, it seemed to envelop my body. "Yeah, I'm sorry." One last sob escaped my mouth. "Sorry for what?" Travis asked so tenderly. "For being such lousy company." "Oh, man, really. It's OK. I am just glad I am here for you. You have no idea how long I wanted to be your friend. Ever since that art show in Carver I have wanted to be close to you." "Wow, I don't know what to say, Travis. I really don't. I'm just glad we're friends now. I've always wanted to have a best friend. I'm glad it's you." "Really, Luke. Do you mean that?" "Absolutely." I just stared at him through my reddened eyes, while he kept his arm on my shoulder. "You don't know how much that means to me, Luke." The next few days were total chaos. The house was always full of people, most I didn't know. Cassandra made it a point to inform us that she would be coming by `After everything settles down of course' as she put it. I hated that woman. I was happy when my grandmother told her not to bother coming to our house. Grandmother told her, "I'll come see you, I'll call for an appointment first, of course." Touché. Travis never strayed far from my side. I was so thankful to have him near me. I don't know if I could have gotten through it without him. I marveled at how he was so supportive of my feelings. He just seemed to be right where I need him to be when I needed him. We were sitting in the reading room, just the two of us. Helga came in while we were sitting in the overstuffed chairs, she looked upset. It wasn't like her to show her emotions, so I was concerned. Travis had noticed too, I could see it in his face. "Helga? Are you all right?" I asked her. "Mr. Luke, your mother needs to talk with you. Alone." My heart began to race. "Certainly, I'll be right in. Travis, why don't you go up to my bedroom and wait?" I followed the maid into the dining room. My mother and grandmother were seated at the large oval table. I took a seat next to my mother. Her face was red, her eyes were bloodshot. I could see fear in her eyes. My grandmother was there in body, but I could tell her mind was thousands of miles away. "Luke, I just got a phone call from a Mr. Gustov Hunikoght, does that name mean anything to you?" "No, I never heard of him. Why do you ask?" "Luke, you can tell us, you're not in any trouble," Grandmother said in a reassuring voice as she placed her warm hand on to the top of mine. "Honest, I never heard of him. Who is he?" "Well, it seems he's sold several of your paintings. He tried to reach your father because he was supposed to receive a painting yesterday, he had already disbursed the payment," my mother explained; it all sounded so Greek. "Mom, I haven't sold any of my work." "Luke, this man said he sent several thousand dollars to an account here in America. This man was calling from Germany. I called the bank and they told me the money was in an account in your name." "I have no idea what you're talking about. Honestly, do you think I know people in Germany? If I sold a painting you'd be the first to know." "OK, Luke, I believe you. Why don't you go to your room? I'll call Mr. Hunikoght and straighten this all out." I got up from the upholstered dining room chair, totally dismayed. I couldn't believe my mother could think such a thing. I had always kept a close relationship with her. How could she think that I was capable of selling my artwork and for several thousand dollars? I slowly crept up the stairs to my bedroom. My head was spinning. I opened the door to my room and saw Travis sitting on my bed. His green eyes locked on mine. I suddenly felt comfort again. "Everything OK, Buddy?" he fondly asked. He made me feel so special. "Craziest thing I ever heard. My mom says some guy name Christov Huncut or some such name has been buying my paintings from me for several thousand dollars. This guy called and told her I got the money but didn't send the picture." "Do you mean Gustov Hunikoght?" Travis asked excitedly. "Yeah, that's his name. Do you know him?" "Of course, he's the guy that bought a few of my paintings. You remember I told about some German guy buying my stuff? That's him, he's an international art dealer. He has offices here in Boston and in Hamburg, Germany." "Well, whoever he is, I never sold him any paintings." Travis just stared at me. "What, is my lunch hanging off my chin?" I quipped and laughed. I mean, what could I do? My mother would have to figure it all out. I was just a kid. "No, you nut. I was just thinking, that Tacano bitch said something about your father going to the bank the day he got into the accident. Has anyone gone to get his belongings out of the car yet?" "Nope." "Well, let's go. I'll drive." He laughed as he said it, we both knew he was the only one of us that could drive. "Should I tell my mom?" "Nah, it could be nothing. It's just that you said your father didn't do the banking. Right? So why was he going to the bank?" I think we have to add super smart to Travis' list of attributes, which by the way has been getting longer and longer the preceding few days. I only mentioned the banking thing in passing the night my father died. I had forgotten all about it. We quietly left the house. I told Helga we were going for a ride to get some fresh air and probably stop by Friendly's for a sundae. While we were leaving, I suddenly remembered how my paintings had been disappearing from their places. I made a mental note to ask Helga about it. The one thing about Helga was she was a woman with discretion, and she was quite observant too. I remembered where my mother had said they took Father's Mercedes; it was the garage near the police headquarters. Travis raced his Honda, darting in and out of traffic to get us there as quickly as possible. I was in awe of his driving skills. We spotted my dad's car, it was behind a fenced in area and the gate was locked. I would have to go inside and explain who I was and what we needed. Travis told me just to tell them I was there to pick up my father's personal effects. He told me not to go into any other details. I did mention how super smart he was, didn't I? I walked into the office of the impound lot. It smelled like cigarette smoke, the air was like a fog of blue smoke. Behind the counter, just inside the door, was a fat, little man. I didn't like the looks of him the minute I saw him. "What can I do for you, Sonny?" he asked, never looking up from the papers in front of him strewn about the counter. "Yes, sir. I'm Luke Rogers. I am here to get my father's personal belongings out of our family car." "Oh yeah, the dead lawyer. That would be the black Mercedes, right?" Still not shifting his eyes off the papers. "Yes sir, that's correct." "You got some ID?" "I have my school ID. Will that do?" "It got a picture on it?" "Yes, sir, it does." "Georgie! George? Get your ass in here, you got go unlock the gate for this kid." I stood in the smoke filled room, amazed at this guy's manners. I had wished Travis had come in with me. Just as I thought it, my friend came to my rescue. The same time this red headed kid about our age came in from the back room. "Everything all right?" Travis asked. "Georgie, take these kids out to the Mercedes, the keys are on the board." I just nodded at Travis. He could see for himself how well things were going. The red head obeyed his boss' command and led us to my father's car. He stood there while we were going through the insides of the car. I wished he would have left us alone, but I guess they have to be careful. We opened the trunk and inside of it was a large flat, square package. It was wrapped in that brown paper that is used for mailing things. I picked it up; it was the size and shape of a painting all right. Then I saw the address, it was addressed to Mr. Hunikoght. Travis and I had our arms loaded up and we put everything in his car. The red head had to help us. My dad had a few boxes of files in the back seat. The worker never said a word; he just followed us out and carried a box of files. I thanked him; he still didn't say anything. When we had gotten back into the car, I felt totally relieved. That place had given me the creeps. I couldn't believe the way that little man talked about my dad, like he was a piece of furniture or something. I was visibly shaken. "You going to be OK?" Travis asked me as he maneuvered his Accord out of the parking lot. "Yeah, that guy was a fucking bastard." "Well, you handled yourself well." I felt his hand as he slapped my left thigh. "Thanks." "Don't mention it. You wanna get that sundae?" "Absolutely. I want a frigging Jim Dandy," I announced. "A frigging Jim Dandy?" "Yep, a frigging Jim Dandy." "OK, Buddy, you got it. One frigging Jim Dandy coming right up." ------------ Well, there you have it. I hope you're enjoying the ride. I sure enjoy taking you with me. I'd like to remind you all that if you go to my web site you can see these fine lads' pictures. I know so many of you like pictures. LOL Don't worry, they aren't too bad. The address for the site is www.http://justinscorner.homestead.com Take a peek and drop me a line, don't forget to sign the guest book. By the way I have a story there that I just started, you'll only find it there in my library. I'd like to thank David at Nifty for all he does. I'd also like to thank my editors - Sarah, my assistant (only on the non-sex stuff) and Ed, my final copy editor. Most of all, I thank you guys for letting me come into your lives. Just, Justin <>