Date: Fri, 15 Nov 2002 21:19:43 -0800 (PST)
From: Ehman Penn <ehman_penn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Matthew Figures It Out

This is the continuation of the first story I've ever
written. The feedback has been great and has given me the
confidence to pursue a different story line than I had
originally planned. Please continue sending your honest
feedback to ehman_penn@yahoo.com

This story is 100% fiction and about 15% true. Don't read it
if there's any chance that doing so might send you or the
author to jail. This story is also copyrighted by the author
and cannot be altered or reproduced without his consent.

*****************************

Matthew Figures It Out - Part 6


As I held him in my arms, my mind slowly started to retake
control, almost as if pulling me out of a warm soft sleep. I
tried to resist, but the mind would only sit on the
sidelines for so long. Chris felt so good in my arms. This
was a position I could never grow tired of. All of the
loneliness and despair I had once felt in my own life had
been lifted from my young shoulders and carried away by the
strength of this moment. I had never felt so calm, so sure
that happiness and love were within my reach, literally
within my arms. My mind started to ask questions, not
questions based in doubt, but based in reason and logical
concern. Had I pushed Chris into this? Would he now push me
away if I had gotten too close? What brought him to this
point? I felt like I knew what had brought me to this point.
It was indisputably true that I needed him. I also felt like
he needed me, or at least he needed somebody. He had never
answered my question and I still didn't know what had made
him so upset. His breathing had steadied and I hated to
break the moment, but I needed to understand him better.

"Chris, please tell me what is wrong." I whispered it into
his ear softly, pulling my head from his shoulder just far
enough to direct the words.

His response came in the form of a tightened grip of his
arms around my back, sinking deeper into me trying to escape
my request. I returned his strength and re-tucked my head
into the curve of his neck offering a silent apology and
acknowledgement of his answer. We stayed like this locked in
a tight embrace for several more minutes before I felt him
loosen his grip and separate himself from me just far enough
to rest his forehead at a slight angle into mine.

"What isn't wrong?" The question was also the answer and I
understood it perfectly well.

"Somehow, everything will be all right Chris. I don't know
how, but it will."

"No it won't. It's too late. Everything will never be all
right. I've screwed so many things up. My mom.." He was
openly sobbing again, pressing his forehead into mine so
hard that it hurt.

My words hesitated for fear of opening a wound so deep that
it couldn't be closed. "Chris, your mom just needs help.
Sometimes grownups get lost just like everybody else. She
can find her way back. She just can't do it alone. What
happened to her, Chris?" As I asked, his fingers clinched
together pinching clumps of my windbreaker and t-shirt
together. He wasn't ready to go there and I wished I hadn't
asked. It was too much for him. Eventually, he eased again
and began to calm.

Most of the major calamities in his life were well
engrained. Parents don't get screwed up overnight, nor do
they get fixed that way. Chris had showed so much bravery,
but something had pushed him over the edge. On any given
day, we are all dangling by the smallest thread of hope,
with nothing else separating us from the long painful fall
beneath. I again pictured the grimace he had given me
earlier when I mentioned homecoming.

"Chris, did something happen yesterday that upset you,
something with Katie?" This was difficult territory for me.
It was hard for me to bring her into the moment, to share
this space with her.  I had to for his sake. No matter what
he told me, if it helped him that was all that mattered
right now.

"Nothing happened Matt. I don't even try anymore. She just
doesn't love me. She won't say it, but I know. I don't feel
that way just because she doesn't want..It's just, I can't
explain it. When we're by ourselves, I just feel so....so
alone. She doesn't even really talk to me anymore. If we're
not in a group, it's just so silent and empty.and lonely. I
don't know what I've done. I must have done something to
deserve.."

"NO!" I shocked him as much as I shocked myself. It was a
reflex statement and was out of my mouth long before I could
reel it back in. I took a deep breath and gave him a humble
look, my eyes pleading with him to believe me. My hands
moved to both sides of his face, my thumbs gently wiping his
eyes clear before my hands resettled softly at the rear of
his neck.

"No." Softly this time, quiet, my voice and eyes now
pleading together. "No, Chris. You don't deserve this. You
don't deserve any of this." My own eyes refilled with tears
so thick I could barely see him, and I had to blink hard to
release the flow before relocking my focus. "You deserve so
much more." My head was now gently shaking sideways and a
tight-lipped, loving smile tried to take grip on my
quivering face.

There was a look in his eyes that wanted to believe me.
Other forces were also at work deep within him, pulling him
away.

"I'm trouble Matt. I don't want you to get hurt too. So many
things are already broken.." He hadn't moved an inch but I
could feel him drifting away from me. He was quivering. I
felt like I had failed him or at least my words had. I
decided to just gently lean into him, resting our foreheads
back together. I could only hope to soothe him again with my
touch. I closed my eyes and softly and slowly stroked the
back of his head, gently combing my fingers through his
hair. His quivering relented, but he felt cold and lifeless
to my senses. He had receded deep within himself, summonsed
there by fear, I believed. He didn't want me to get hurt -
too. I truly believed that he couldn't even bear the thought
of hurting me somehow. How would he hurt me? Was he afraid
he would disappoint me? Couldn't he be deserving of the
confidence and faith I had in him? I had found it within
myself to finally believe in Chris. He had been emptied so
by the many wounds in his life. Did he really feel
responsible for all that had gone wrong around him? His head
was filled with lies and truths all tangled together, his
mind unable to untie the knots and sort out the difference.
I felt completely overwhelmed and under-equipped for the
project that lay ahead.

I barely heard him. He spoke it in such a soft voice.
"Thanks, Matt." Again, he clenched me tight one last time
before gathering himself and pulling back, boring into me
with those x-ray eyes just like he had many times before.
This time though, his eyes were in role-reversal, sending an
answer to an unasked question. I felt warm, I felt loved. I
also felt reassured, having begun to wonder how Chris would
respond to me when this was over. I knew that what we had
communicated was real, but I was afraid it wouldn't be an
easy adjustment for him. He may have sensed my unease, but
no matter, his reassurance was much welcomed.

As he broke his stare and we lost touch for the first time
in what must have been at least an hour, my eye detected
movement in the background through the glassless window, out
in the trees. I tried to sharpen my focus but was unable to
pick up where the movement had come from. My eyes were now
sore from their intense efforts. Could they have been
playing tricks on me? The rain was subsiding, but the
cooling breeze was still blowing. I stepped up to the window
and peered deep into the woods. Nothing. I decided to keep
this to myself. Even if someone had been there, how could
they see us if I couldn't see them? There was plenty of
wildlife in these woods too, I thought.

We stepped out of the old shack. I couldn't help but look
back inside knowing that what had happened would change my
life forever. I felt taller, stronger, even older, and
definitely more mature. I was in love and determined to win.
I was no longer locked in a petty battle with Katie, though
I was already making plans to deal with her. I was now
locked in a much larger and more important battle to help
win back the life of the boy I loved. I didn't know how long
it would take, how hard the battle would be fought, or where
it would take me. I only knew I would win or die trying. I
would leave nothing on the battlefield. Whatever sacrifice I
had to make, whatever pain I had to suffer, I would do so in
the all powerful name of love. What I had always wanted was
within my sights. My life had found new purpose.

When I turned back, Chris was staring at me curiously. I
smiled at him, a strong assuring smile.

"Matt?"

"Yeah, buddy. It's me." I stepped to him and threw my right
arm out around the back of his shoulder never losing step as
he picked up stride and walked with me, glancing curiously
over at me again still not convinced.

No sooner had we reached Chris's house, when I saw my mom's
car pull in the drive. "This can't be right." I looked up
into the clouds trying to find some indication as to where
the sun was and what time it must be. I hadn't worn my
watch, but there was no way it was five o'clock already. It
was. The loss of time almost disoriented me momentarily. I
turned to Chris. He threw his hand out to meet mine and we
clasped them together as we always did, but this time our
eyes were locked and there were no laughs or smiles. We were
both resolved to this parting, though neither of us wanted
it. Our hands slid apart and I jogged out to meet my mom
before she made it half way down the drive. I had her stop
and back out, never reaching the rear of the house. As we
backed away, Chris stood, still visible to me before the
angle of the house swallowed him up from my view. Our eyes
stayed in contact until that moment, and I even looked on
well after that in the event that he reappeared somehow. My
mom was very quiet, sensing that something was happening
that she couldn't quite piece together.

"Matt, did you and Chris have a fight?" She really didn't
know what to think. It occurred to me that my face was
probably still red and maybe even still a little puffy.

"No mom." My answer was succinct but kindly delivered. She
had reached the end of the drive and I had shifted my eye
contact to her. I held her eyes for several seconds more,
before she finally blinked, turning away to check traffic
before backing out into the main road. The warrior rising
within me knew he needed key alliances for the battle ahead.
No one was fiercer or more loyal than my mother. I knew I
needed her. This wasn't the time or place, but soon I would
claim my alliance.

The ride home was pretty quiet. My mom reached over once and
rubbed my knee, never looking away from the road. When we
reached the house, I first feared it was on fire. Instead,
dad was just firing up the grill in the backyard.
CHEESEBURGERS! I loved grilled burgers. My dad did them just
right, and he always threw the cheese on at the end letting
it sear into the meat. There were no vegetarians in the
Jordan household. We were unashamed meat-eaters.

"I'm sorry I called you a sell-out, dad." I put my hand on
his shoulder and leaned in to get a better whiff of the
smoke as he expertly flipped our burgers. He gave me a
glance between flips and passed a contented smile.

"You're still going to church tomorrow. You know that,
right?" He held a burger in mid-air, stopping to give me his
full attention, smiling all the while.

I returned his smile plus some, and repeated my earlier one-
finger confirmation. He laughed at me and cracked some line
about "you and your mother."

Over dinner, I told my parents of my desire to play JV
basketball this year. They stopped chewing and looked at
each other in unison.

"What? I love basketball." They resumed chewing and dad
nodded his tentative approval. Mom just chewed and stared at
me, trying to figure out the big picture, as always.

"Matt, it's just that you've never played basketball before.
Are you sure you want to try this.now?" Maybe she didn't
think I could make it and would just be disappointed when I
failed, or maybe this represented another challenge to her
nest.

"Chris is a really good player and a great coach too. He's
been showing me the moves."

"I see." Did she?
"This works right into dad's community outreach program too,
you know? The guys at the bank should love this." I might
have been stretching it just a bit. My dad paused in mid-
bite before resuming without comment.

"Matt, let your father and I talk about this. If it's
something you really want and if you don't let it effect
your school work, then I don't see why you shouldn't have
the opportunity."

"I really do want to do this mom. The team travels together
on the bus and I would have a blast just hanging with Chris,
even if I don't get to play that much. I'll keep my grades
up, don't worry. I'll need some help getting home after
practice though, at least until Chris gets his drivers
license."

"Matthew, why don't you plan to invite Chris over sometime
soon, so your father and I can meet him?" Mom was smooth. I
had to give her credit for that. She was right, too. It was
only fair for her to ask.

"Hey, Matt. Why don't you invite him to church with us
tomorrow?" I choked violently on my coke, my sinuses
stinging on the carbonation. With watery eyes, I looked over
at my dad and waved off the hideous suggestion with my free
hand, the other hand trying to cover my mouth and keep my
half-chewed burger bite from flying across the table. My mom
gave him a sneer for good measure.

"All right. All right" he conceded. Sometimes dad just
didn't get it.

After I finally recovered, I decided it was time to make
some progress with my parents on the Chris front. Much
staging was necessary before the battle could begin. I
didn't really know where to start, but being as honest as
possible always seemed to work best for me.

"I'm really worried about Chris." I flipped nervously at the
few remaining chips on my plate, never raising my eyes. The
noise at the table dropped considerably.

"Why are you worried about him, Matt?" I raised my eyes to
meet my mom as she asked. Anything that worried me worried
her and she showed it in her eyes.

"I never knew how lucky I was until I met Chris's parents."
True, I really didn't. Not having any close friends had also
meant I never had anything to compare my own mom and dad to.
"Chris's dad used to work in the stockade at the Presidio a
long time ago." Now I had dad's full attention. So there was
a bigger point to all those questions after all. "He's a
teacher at school and he also coaches the baseball team.
He's not exactly well liked. He's a very serious man. I
think Chris's mom might be an alcoholic." I could see the
grimace on my dad's face as I said it. My dad was an upbeat
guy, but he had known less upbeat days as his father fought
and lost many battles with alcohol before finally losing the
war for good. I shifted to my mom's face. I could almost
feel my mom absorbing my own pain and fears for Chris.
"There's just no love in his house. I never knew people
lived like that before. To top it all off, he's got a
girlfriend that treats him like crap and doesn't even love
him." I had to have a drink and turned the bottom of my coke
can to the sky. Emotion was starting to swell back up within
me. Saying it out loud just brought everything rushing to
the surface.

"Matt, what is Chris like?" My mom always knew the right
questions.

"He's so brave, mom." My eyes were definitely swelling with
emotion. Something possessed me to meet my mom's eyes,
revealing to her the emotions within me. We held each others
stare just as we had earlier when she picked me up at his
house. "Everyone likes Chris. He was the first kid at school
to talk to me and we became friends my first day. He's the
best friend I've ever had." I smiled and stopped to tell
them the story of how we had met that first day. We all
needed a light moment. My mom and dad smiled but we never
reached a laugh. The underlying drama wouldn't allow it. I
continued. "Somehow, he always seems to stay upbeat. But
he's in a lot of pain." I trailed off quickly. The warrior
had broken just a bit. My lip had quivered and the swell in
my eyes was now washing down my face. But the little warrior
didn't stay down for long. "Somebody's got to fight for
him." I declared it resolutely and flashed the determination
in my wet eyes first to my mom, then my dad.

We three Jordans had never had a talk quite like this
together. Somewhere in their faces, I saw a common
reflection of pride. They had seen me down before but they
knew I wasn't a quitter. I wouldn't be a coward. Anyone
could do a cowardly thing, but to remain a coward is within
the control and choice of all of us. What I had lacked in
life was something or someone to really believe in. I loved
and believed in my parents, but that was different. I wanted
to tell them more, but I simply wasn't ready.

"Chris is probably going through a lot of self-doubt right
now." I had rarely heard my dad speak so softly. "I'm sure
he blames part of his mom's problems on himself. Everyone
does, Matt." My dad was speaking straight from the heart
now. The `marketing guy' needed no notes or slides for this
speech. "You wonder if they're drinking because of you,
something you've done. You wonder if somehow you could be a
better kid..would it make them better too. You wonder if
they'd be happier without you. You wonder how the love of a
child can lose to the love of a bottle. Mostly, you just
wonder about everything, Matt. I'm sure Chris is doing a lot
of wondering too. Alcoholism is always toughest on those
around the drinker. They're awake and always wondering long
after the drunk has passed out for the night." My mom had
reached over and rested her hand on my dad's forearm. My
poor mom was working double-time with her Jordan boys
tonight. "Your mom's right about Chris coming over, but not
just so we can meet him, Matt. I want to make sure he knows
he's welcome as part of this family too, son." My dad knew
how to close a deal after all. I stood and walked over to
him and just collapsed in his arms, crying openly and
freely. I cried for the pain my dad had suffered as a child.
I cried for the realization that my parents could love me
this much. I cried remembering what my mom had told me in
the car when she dropped me off at Chris's earlier today. I
mostly cried with joy and relief now knowing that at least
this part of my battle wouldn't have to be fought alone.
My bed felt so good and so warm. The rain had returned
tonight and was beating steadily against the window in my
room. I was exhausted by the emotion of the day, but I
lingered awake with my mind drifting back to the old shack
in the woods. This day had brought my first kiss and I
wondered what it meant. It had started as just a brush of
the lips, but we both moved back to the same position
letting our lips rejoin for a while. I never even thought
about it as sexual and I didn't expect that Chris did
either. To me, it meant we trusted each other completely,
accepted each other without question, understood each other
without explanation, and that we loved each other. Whether
our definitions of love matched I still couldn't know for
sure. Chris still had a girlfriend, at least for now. I had
already resolved to confront Katie but I knew I had to be
careful about it. Without question, Chris and I were now
best friends - at least. I might have to accept Katie in his
life, but I was no longer willing to stand by idly and let
her hurt him. If she cared about him enough to help him,
then I would tolerate her. If she was only going to make a
bad situation worse, then she had to go. She would have to
accept his new best friend too, even if he had a few things
to say that would really piss her off.

At some point, sleep had found me. The night passed far too
quickly and Sunday morning burst onto the scene far too
early.

"Matt, no sleeping in this morning, son. I need you to be
ready in forty-five minutes." My dad was proselytizing this
morning, ready to spread the word.

I really wasn't looking forward to this. The last time I was
in church was for a funeral and I couldn't even remember who
died.  I had decided not to hassle my dad anymore on this
one, not after he had come through for me last night. I was
up and ready with fifteen minutes to spare. The bright spot
of the morning was the discovery that the suit my mom bought
me last year was no longer oversized and now fit me just
right. I looked good. My mom thought so too and did that
embarrassing thing that moms do to their sons when they
think so. She just smiled and ran her hands down my
shoulders and around the outsides of my arms and chest, sort
of ironing me into perfection. Off to church we went.

"Dad, what type of church are we going to?" I was hoping to
find some clue as to what religion we thought we were.

"It's non-denominational son. There's no specific label."
That surprised me a little. I would have been sure my dad
would have picked a reputable brand name.

"How did we pick this one dad?" I was genuinely curious
about the process.

"Their yellow-page ad was nice plus it's close by, and they
have paved parking." Leave it to my dad to pick a church
using the freaking yellow-pages. Who mentions `paved-
parking' in an ad for a church? Evidently their marketing
guy was top-notch too because it worked on my dad. Mom
turned to look back at me and tried to smile reassuringly. I
tried to give her the same smile in return. We could get
through this together, at least this once.

Sure enough, they had paved-parking with nice white stripes
and handicap signs to boot. In fact, they had dozens of
handicap signs and I started to wonder if this was just a
church for the handicapped. I quickly noticed several canes,
walkers, and wheelchairs connected to older - make that VERY
older - southern ladies. Everyone was dressed up too, as
were we. And oh the colors: blue, purple, gold - and that
was just their hair! This was at least going to be an
entertaining experience. I wished I'd brought a camera. What
struck me was what I didn't see - namely anyone my age. I
had to give them credit for one thing, there was a good
crowd. So good in fact, that we eventually had to pull into
a grass field used for overflow parking. I had bit my tongue
as long as I could and decided to give my dad a zinger.
"Dad, we could always sue them for false advertising." I did
it playfully and put my arm around him for insurance.

A couple of regulars strolled up beside us as we made our
way through the vast parking lot and I overheard one of them
say eagerly "We're gonna hear some good preachin this
mornin." I wondered if pronouncing words ending in `g' was
considered disrespectful here on the Sabbath.

It was still a good twenty minutes before preachin' would
begin and we gathered in a shaded area out in front of the
church. This was a loud group of people and you could tell
there was lots of community news spread here each Sunday
morning. My dad swung into full campaign mode, pressing the
flesh with all who would take his outstretched hand. I
wondered why he didn't just go ahead and give out business
cards. It would have been much more efficient. My mom
patiently smiled and nodded, but I wondered how long she
would last with this act. Then I saw the face of an angel, a
boy who looked to be my age in a sharp black suit standing
just outside the front entrance to the church. Without even
realizing it, I reached and straightened my tie. What was I
doing? Maybe he wasn't an angel after all. I think he sensed
my stare from the distance and slowly turned his head and
locked his own stare dead into my eyes. His smile was very
faint; it was more of a devilish grin, honestly.  There was
heat in those eyes and I was feeling it. This might have
been the most striking boy I had ever laid eyes on. Lower
powers were at work, literally. This couldn't be happening,
not in these pants - the fabric might not be strong enough!
Maybe it was the breeze and the wool, no it was definitely
the heat of this stare. I had to look away. I found an old
tombstone in the neighboring cemetery and tried to imagine
the decayed corpse underneath - anything to turn the tide on
the unwelcome church boner that I was now trying to wrestle
flat with my right hand. I glanced back at the boy. Big
mistake, as he was now in a full evil grin almost
controlling my rise remotely.

Southerners are big huggers, especially large southern
women. I had pulled my right hand out of my pants pocket
long enough to straighten my hair, when I was blind-sided by
a whale of a woman that my dad had just chatted with. She
wrapped her arms around me pulling me tight into her and
saying something about "precious baby". When her prodigious
thighs made contact with `you know who', I heard her gasp.
When she pulled back away from me, she was a little flush,
and raised her heavily tinted brows, giving me an
appreciative smile. She had definitely gotten more than she
had bargained for, but didn't seem to mind. I watched her
gravitate to some ladies of similar weight in the community
and I was sure I heard them all giggle. Before I knew it, I
was being squeezed and hugged by tons of women. Finally,
what the image of a dead corpse couldn't do, these ladies
had done. The party was over, the boner was down, let the
preachin' begin. The boy was still out front by the door
when we came by but I tried extra hard not to make eye
contact this time, not wanting any more discomfort than I'd
already had. He was definitely quite the little devil.

We found a comfortable spot at the end of a pew. Church
organs were playing. The stage was well decorated. The
audience was buzzing. They even had brochures!

"It's called a program Matthew." My mom educated me as she
passed one down to me. They must use a nice printer, more
kudos to the marketing guy.

As I opened the program, the words on the thin paper
couldn't have hit me harder if delivered by a 2x4:

HOMOSEXUALITY: AN ABOMINATION TO THE CHURCH

My mouth dropped open and I turned my head slowly to see my
mother's reaction. She closed her program quickly and turned
her head not-so-slowly to see my dad's reaction. Dad was
still admiring the print work and hadn't bothered to
actually read the contents yet.

"Mom, what's an abomination?" There were so many negative
words I didn't know.

She wouldn't look me in the eye, but leaned over and
whispered "I think it means disgust or a cause of disgust,
or something like that." She took my hand and held it. We
sat there in church, holding hands as mom and son. It was
nice and took some of the edge off for me. I noticed a
familiar face near the front of the church. Mr. Duncan, the
schools very busy P.E. teacher was here, but not with the
orally gifted Donna Simpson and not with always horny Ms.
Nelson. I didn't know who this lady was, but decided she was
too young to be his mother and sitting too close to be his
sister. Maybe Mr. Duncan was here for forgiveness. If so, I
guessed he must come here a lot. I also saw the devilish boy
take a seat in the front row along with a woman who had to
be his mother by resemblance alone. It finally hit me; this
kid was the preacher's son! It figured. Preacher's sons had
general reputations as being on the wild side. I guess all
that preaching wore a little thin at home.

The theatrics began. We had drama. We had music. We had
song. We had more drama. The lead actor was great and had
tremendous charisma, truly a blessed performer. Then we paid
the bill, or at least we passed the plate. My dad had said
this was a non-denominational church, but as the plate
passed by I decided that a twenty dollar bill was definitely
the preferred denomination. The plate was full of them. I
wondered if that was a good take for a Sunday morning. There
had been plenty of amen, and `you tell em preacher'. They
all prayed for the `homosexuals', but I'm pretty sure they
didn't pray for them all to come to this church. Based on
the tone of the `message', I tend to think they just prayed
them away. Really, none of this bothered me greatly because
I didn't associate it with God. I had no problem with God;
it was the people who seemed to always screw things up for
him. Anybody could start a church. It was still a free
country after all. Whatever the south may be lacking in,
small country churches isn't on the list. There's one every
mile, sometimes sitting across the street from each other
right out in the middle of nowhere.

My prayers were finally answered as the `service' was over.
We partook in the tradition of shaking hands with the first-
family as we made our way out the front door. As visitors, I
guess we garnered a little special attention from the
preacher. My dad introduced us with what little enthusiasm
he could still stomach. The preacher still had plenty of
charisma left.

"John, Joanna and Matthew! Oh, what beautiful Christian
names! You're a lovely family. Thanks for visiting our home.
We hope you'll call it your home someday soon." Preachers
were sort of the ultimate marketing guys. I ventured a
glance over at junior while this was going on. He definitely
had all of his father's charisma. It just oozed out from
him. He was giving me that same look as before and when he
shook my hand, he held it plenty long and told me "thanks
for coming."

I thought to myself "not quite", but plenty close enough,
thank you. I had news for the preacher. He had his own
little abomination right at home. I gave the boy a knowing
smile and nod before making my way down the stairs. Finally,
the Jordans found their way back to the safety of the car.

"So dad, do you think you made enough new contacts today to
let us afford one of those big green John Deere lawn mowers
like Tommy's dad owns?"

"All right, all right. You and you're mother." Dad grimaced
and shook his head.

"It's OK dad. We've got to admit, it was an interesting
experience." Mom just kept quiet. I decided she would save
her comments for later when she could talk with dad alone.

The rest of the day Sunday raced by quickly. The weather
went sour again, and rain set in all afternoon. It was great
nap weather, though. As bedtime approached, I tried to plot
in my mind exactly what I would say to Katie. She wasn't
likely to take anything I said kindly. I was still a low-
life freshman to her, but I was determined she would have to
reckon with me.

Home-room Monday morning, Tommy spent the whole time telling
everyone who would listen about the old monster catfish we
had caught Friday night. I tried to catch up with Chris
later but we were always on opposite ends of the campus. We
usually didn't even see each other until lunch each day.

After third period, I spotted Katie alone walking toward the
auditorium. It was lunch period now and I had at least
thirty minutes if I could catch her alone. This seemed like
the perfect opportunity. She was too far ahead of me and
entered the auditorium before I could catch her. I entered
shortly behind her, deciding this setting might at least
offer us the privacy that I needed to make my case. If she
screamed at me here, at least no one would notice. Katie had
long slim athletic legs and could walk very fast. She had
already disappeared behind the auditorium stage before I
could even make an effort to flag her down. I only knew she
had been there by the wave of the curtain she had pushed
aside. This setting was definitely fitting. The auditorium
had a raised stage, ideal for the drama I had in mind. I was
puzzled as to exactly why Katie was even here and where she
had disappeared to. I had never been on the stage, must less
backstage. There were several layers of curtains controlled
by overhead pulleys. Only the night lights were on, meaning
you could make your way but it was sort of spooky with the
shadows from the curtains. I slowed my pursuit and quietly
made my way up on the stage, looking back out over the dark
empty seating. It was all a little too dramatic. I could
hear quiet voices coming from the rear corner of the stage.
I decided to inch forward and check it out. The voices
slowly became audible. I knew one of them was Katie. Oh god,
I hoped the other wasn't Chris. I couldn't bare the thought
of getting caught spying on them like this. This definitely
wasn't Chris's voice though, but it was a boy's voice. I
ever so quietly worked myself into position so I could find
out exactly what the hell was going on here. I could tell I
was close by the voices. I made my way to the edge of one
last curtain and barely sticking my head around the side,
they finally came into clear view. I had drawn a fortunate
spot because it was quite dark where I was, but they were
directly under a night light. I was in full spy mode now. I
recognized the boy. His name was Ty Wilson. I knew this
because he was the school king-in-waiting. He was the most
popular junior at school and best friends with the senior
boy who was the reigning social king. I could feel my heart
pounding. Voyeuristic adrenalin was running hot through my
veins. Ty was sitting in a metal stage chair. Katie was
kneeling between his open legs with her arms propped out,
one on each Ty's thighs. She was pleading with him about
something and he had his hands on her shoulders listening.
My first thought was that she was being very sloppy. What if
Chris were standing here instead of me? There might be at
least two dead teenagers soon if that had been the case. My
heart was now nearly jumping out of my chest and I had to
take long deep open mouthed breaths to calm myself. My palms
were sweaty. I focused my ear.

"This is really tough on me Ty and it's not fair to Chris.
I'm just going to break up with him. No one will get
suspicious about us."

"Baby, calm down. That's not the plan. You need to be with
someone because I can't have anybody getting wise to us. You
know that. If Jeannie had a clue, she would ruin both of us.
You don't want that, do you?"

I knew that Ty's girlfriend was named Jeannie. She was a
popular senior and I had seen her and Katie together on
several occasions. It all made sense now. Katie wasn't
waiting for someone better to come along. She was just
waiting for Jeannie to move out of the picture. Next year,
Katie would be the girlfriend of the new school king. Chris
was just her poor dumb cover for the tryst she had to keep
quiet until then. I had greatly underestimated her and the
depths she would sink to. How did she ever get this screwed
up? I was about to find out the full price she was paying to
be the lady in waiting. I could tell that Katie was softly
sobbing. Maybe she had a heart, but maybe she didn't. Ty
definitely didn't.

"Baby, come on now. We don't have time for tears." He kissed
her several times on the forehead, lifting her chin with one
hand and planting a long slow kiss on her lips. It was his
free hand that caught my attention. Ty had wrestled a very
hard cock from his oversized jeans and was now gently
stroking it with his free hand. "Come on, baby. We don't
have much time left." He kissed her one more time. The hand
that was under her chin went to the back of her neck,
pulling Katie's head and mouth down to meet his erection. I
watched on for just a moment, partly out of spectacle but
mostly out of disbelief. I blinked hard several times,
holding my eyes shut a little longer each time. Each time
when my eyes reopened, the two of them were still there.
This didn't appear to be the first time they had done this
routine together. Ty had a pretty sweet deal worked out for
himself. I wondered if he even intended to make Katie his
girlfriend one day. I almost felt a twinge of sympathy for
her.

I edged back out of the stage area just as quietly as I had
arrived. I walked through the darkened seats and exited from
the farthest door, trying to make no noise at all in my
wake. Once outside in the open air, I bent over and grabbed
my knees gasping hard for breath with my heart still racing
rapidly.

"Mattie, where have you been? I've been looking for you."
Tommy startled me back to full reality, nearly giving me a
heart attack in the process. "Mattie, are you sick? You're
white as a sheet."

"Tommy, did you see Chris anywhere?" I had to locate him and
remove any chance that he might stumble onto Katie and kill
someone.

"He was in the cafeteria looking for you."

"Tommy. Listen to me, please. I want you to run back there
and find him. Keep him there, Tommy. Don't tell him I told
you to do this, OK? Just tell him I was looking for him and
I'm on my way back to the cafeteria to grab a bite. Please
Tommy. I can't answer anything right now. Will you help me?"
I knew I could depend on Tommy. I had to catch my breath and
more importantly my composure before seeing Chris. I also
needed just a minute to think.

"Sure Mattie. Whatever you say." He was confused for sure,
but willing to help as always.

"Go Tommy. Please, go now. Make sure you find him. Where
ever you find him, keep him there." With a final push, Tommy
ran off toward the cafeteria.

There was no way I could tell Chris about Katie. That wasn't
even an option. I was suddenly overcome with a real fear
that he would kill someone if he found out about this. That
couldn't be left to chance, but I couldn't put a plan
together this quick. I couldn't believe she would be so
careless, that they would be so careless. Ty probably got
off extra hard from the risk, but he wouldn't get off if
Chris got his hands around his neck. Right now, I had to get
my composure. Later I had to make a plan. I breathed easier
knowing that Tommy would find him for me, and at least keep
him safely away from here.

This had raised the stakes for everyone. I had to figure
this out.


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Authors Note / November 15th, 2002:

I welcome any questions about the story. If you think its
too slow, I'd like to know. If you think it's just right,
I'd like to know. If I've written something that didn't make
sense to you, I'd like to know. Basically, anything you
think about this story, I'd like to know. This is still a
new experience for me and I need the feedback to let me know
if I'm still on track. I want to re-express my thanks to
everyone who has emailed me. I've taken a tremendous amount
of encouragement and motivation from your correspondence.
Again, please keep the feedback coming. The readers of this
story are still the only people I have a chance to discuss
my story with. Writing this story and corresponding with its
readers has had a tremendous positive effect on me
personally. This story represents the only true documented
expression of how I really feel about myself and the world
around me. I will promptly reply to your email.

Please keep the responses coming, good or bad:
ehman_penn@yahoo.com

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