Date: Mon, 9 Jul 2001 16:23:31 EDT
From: me@th380y.net
Subject: Miracle- Part One (Revised)

This is the first chapter of my new novel, Miracle.  It may take me a while
to get this one out.  Stay with me though, and send me some feedback.
(me@th380y.net) I am alo writing random things every now and then.  You can
find those on my website (Http://www.th380y.net)

Miracle
By: TH380Y
Part One : Andrew

I woke up; it was 2:02.  I had slept in.  Slowly, I mustered the
strength to sit up.  My windows were open, letting the sun attack my
face with its healing rays.  My face hurt.  I had probably been staring
at the sun for a while now.  Music.  I needed music.  I scrounged
around in my bed for the remote.  It was under one of my pillows.  I
turned on my stereo and played a CD.  Vertical Horizon's new CD.  I
skipped to track 8, "Send It Up".  My watch said it was April 13; it had
been three months since I had moved to Bay Farm Island.  I used to
live in San Rafael but my mom thought we should move here.
I wasn't going to argue with her.  I had just gotten kicked out of
my last school because I kept getting into fights.  I wasn't picking
them though.  I was just the one that was called.  Nothing happened
to the other guys.  Just me.  It's some form of discrimination, I know.
But I didn't do anything because I was tired of fighting.
Across the street, a U-Haul truck pulls up, with a car taking up
the rear.  New neighbors moving into the house across the street.  The
truck pulls into the long drive way, parallel to the house, as the car, an
old Isuzu Trooper, with surfer stickers on it's rear window, parks in
front.  Out of the U-Haul steps a tall, lanky man of about 35 years old.
>From the Trooper's rear passenger steps a girl, around 16.  From the
driver's side a soccer mom steps out.  She is about 37.  Now, from the
passenger seat, steps a heavy sized boy, 5'9-ish, about 16 or 17 with
brown hair, and tanned skin.  The whole family was tan, in fact, and
was wearing loose, light clothing.  These people were from Southern
California.
I watched them rearrange themselves from my window, across
the street.  A few more heads popped out of the windows around the
brown house.  There were two other houses for sale on the street.
This wasn't the cheapest among them.  But it WAS the ugliest of the
three.  I wondered why this family would choose that house.  It was
three stories tall, not including the attic, or the basement.  But it was
painted a disgusting brown.  The whole house looked like a piece of
shit.  It was a regular house; it just looked like a big piece of shit.
Maybe the paint was the only thing that made it look so ugly.  I
wondered what the house would look like with a new paint job.  But I
couldn't.
I watched as the family ascended the stairs to the door.  There
was a pause here.  They were trying to figure out which key was
which.  I could have helped them with that.  I used to watch the cats
for the people that used to live there.  Once they trusted me enough, I
used to watch their house.  They gave me the keys while they were
away.  There were three of them.  One for the front door handle, one
for the front door deadbolt and one for the back door deadbolt and
handle.  I always wondered where the missing deadbolt and handle
were.  I had a very strong urge to run across the street, up the stairs
and help them.  But I held back- the front door swung open.  The boy
and girl would be hunting for the best room.  I can imagine how they
would react when they ran up the winding stair case to the attic.  The
boy would stop short once inside the room, in awe.  The girl would run
into him, not knowing why he stopped, and then, they would both look
up.  This would make them both fall in love with the room, but only
one of them could have it.
I decided to take a shower.  I brought Vertical Horizon in with
me.  Once the water had gotten to the correct temperature and the
music was blazing, I got in.  I wondered what their story was.  Why
they had moved to Bay Farm Island?  Where had they come from?  My
hands were on auto-pilot, as I wondered about the boy.  What school
was he going to?  How old was he?  My favorite song broke my
reverie.

"Ooh you make me lay down.
Ooh you make me forget I am here.
Ooh you make me safe now.
Oh you make the faces disappear.

I'm alright by the way.
Everyone save the day
Sometimes I feel it

Send it up
Send it up now
Send it up . . ."

It reminded me of the boy I had taken to a Vertical Horizon
concert.  His name was Eric.  We had been having sex for a while and I
had just won 4 Vertical Horizon tickets over the radio.  I figured that
we should have some platonic fun and invited him.  He loved Vertical
Horizon, he said.  And he sang along to every song.  But when I talked
to him for real, not just pillow talk, I noticed how much of a bitch he
really was.  And this is when I ditched him.  After the last song I left.
He waited for the encore, as there was definatly going to be one.  I got
on BART and I went back to Bay Farm Island.  When my Dad picked
me up, he asked where Eric went.  I told him that he ditched me.  He
apologized for Eric and we drove home in silence.  It wasn't too much
silence.  The ride home was only 8 minutes.
I went into my room and went to sleep.  It was 11:47 and I was
tired.  I had sung all of the songs that they had performed.  And all of
the songs Sister Hazel had performed.  Sister Hazel had opened for
Vertical Horizon.  It was a great concert.  The company sucked.  I
wished I had taken someone else with me.  I had plenty of friends that
would jump to go.  But I sold the remaining two tickets for twenty-five
dollars each.  I had enough money to get an eighth for later on.
I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist.  I
used another to dry my hair with.  I usually can't stand walking out of
the shower without my torso covered.  I get too cold.  I don't know
why that is.  But if there's no water dropping from my head it's easier
to deal with.  I looked at myself in the mirror.  It was still me: 5'11",
black hair, brown eyes, built for football.  My skin was clearing up.  I
had started taking Accutane.  That's an oral medication for acne.  You
take it; it dries your skin to the cracking point and kills your zits.  It's
great.  I slipped into some boxer-briefs, put on some brown cargos
and a California shirt.  I'm not exactly sure what the California was for.
It may just have been a tourist shirt, but I liked it.  It was comfy.  I
slipped on some Ecco sandals and walked over to my new neighbor's
house.  The father was unpacking the U-Haul.
"Hey"  I called from a step just before the lawn.
You see, the lawn was raised, in a bed of concrete.  Well, it
wasn't filled with concrete, of course.  Concrete just made the walls.  It
was split into three parts.  One part, to the left, held the norm, brilliant
vines a shrub or two and a tree.  It hadn't been cut in a while, so it's
limbs hung down, touching the ground.  When I was a kid, I was
convinced that, when it looked like this, it was a magical tree.  The
hair on the back of my neck still raises whenever I walk past it.  Part
two, to my right was the norm (grass, if you hadn't guessed already).
Above it, separated by a path of stones, were tulips, watered by the
neighbors while the house was unoccupied.
"Hey." The man called back to me.
"I'm Matthew Edwards."  I held out my hand.
"I'm Bob Cross."  We shook hands.
I asked him, "Where have you moved from?"
"Philadelphia."
"Cool.  . . .  Just wanted to drop by and say Hello.  Also, I
wanted to know if you need any help, guidance?  Names of
restaurants?"  I asked Bob.
In my peripheral vision I saw someone walk out on to the porch,
freeze and then walk out of my view.  A moment later, that person
returned.  It was the boy.
"Oh," Bob sounded hasty, "This is Andrew."
Andrew looked at me.  His hair was brown.  His eyelashes looked
as if they had been curled and he had a hint of a unibrow.  He was
almost as big as I was with deliciously broad shoulders.  He had on a
green T and cargo khakis his feet were uncovered- rough-looking,
accustomed to hot sand.  I was wrong when I guessed his height.  He
was 5'8"; his eyes were almost level with mine.  Ah, those eyes.  He
had green, the kind of green that makes you wonder if you've been
tricked into thinking they are green instead of brown or some exotic
blue.  I couldn't stop looking.  They intoxicated me and I could feel a
fluttering in my stomach.
"Hey,"  His voice sounded gentle.
We shook hands.  He had a soft grip, so I made sure not to
crush his hand.  People do that often when they are shaking hands.
Crush your hand, I mean.  Men get into a big handshaking fight to see
who can out shake the other.  It's supposed to be a symbol of higher
dominance, I guess.
"I'm Matt Edwards."  I smiled at him.
He smiled back.  We stood there, smiling, for a few seconds until
Bob broke our silent conversation.
"Matt here,"  Bob said, "Wanted to know if we needed any help
around town."
"I'm new here too."  Should I have said that differently?  I
wondered.  "Well, not totally new.  My mom and I have been here for
a few months now.  We know how to get around and where to eat,
cheap gas etc."
I had their full attention.
"So . . . you can call on me whenever you need help."  I decided
to make a bad joke, "Any time before three is okay.  After three . . .
you're going to have to fork over a five'r."
They smiled.  Andrew snapped out of whatever he was in.
"Hey dad, can we go out and get something to eat right now?"
He said to me, "We just drove all the way from Pismo."
"Well . . ."
Andrew cut him short; "There's nothing in the fridge, Dad.  We
just bought the house."
If that wasn't just stating the obvious.
"I know a good place a few blocks from here, so you don't have
to drive.  Do you like Thai Food?"
"Yes!"  Andrew took a step closer to me.
"Well," Bob probably felt out numbered now.  "I'd better go tell
everyone to get ready."
Bob went inside.  This left Andrew with me.
"So, you moved from Philadelphia?"  I made conversation.
"Yeah- but we stayed in San Diego for a few weeks to test it out.
But my sister and I didn't like any of the schools there.  How about
you?  Where did you move from?"
"A place called San Rafael.  That's just over the Richmond-San
Rafael bridge.  I don't know if you know where that is."
"No."
"Well, it's on 580.  I can probably take you there later on this
week if you want."  I remembered that he may have school.  "Oh
yeah!  Do you know where you're going to school?"
"Well, I just came from Upattinas.  There's supposed to be
another school like mine around here."  He said.
"No shit!"  I exclaimed, briefly I noticed the volume I had said
that at and spoke in a lower tone.  "I'm supposed to be going to school
there in another week!  For the conference."
"Really?  Do you go to Alameda Alternative School?"  He asked
me.
"Yes.  Are you going to be coming too?"
"Probably."
"Awesome!  We need more guys at this school.  Preferably cool
ones like you."  Compliments go straight to your pants.
Andrew smiled at me.  His parents came out with the girl.
"Matt, this is Patricia."  Bob pointed to the mother.  "And this is
Amelia."
I said my hello's to them both.  I remembered that I hadn't told
my mother where I was going to be, so I ran into the house to get
some money and say goodbye.  I came outside and we all walked to
the Thai Cuisine.  This Thai Cuisine made Chi Teas that were so good
you didn't want to order any food.  You would just keep drinking Chi
teas until you eventually exploded.  They are great.


Table talk was of school.  Through a scalded tongue I told them
about school.  About the people.  About the instructors.  About the
classes.
"Last semester we had a 'Fight Club' class.  I wish I had been in
that one.  But now, I reconsider it.  They watched 'Fight Club' about
five times and read the book two.  You'll probably like the school," I
said to Andrew.  Inside I wished that he would stay so that I may get
to know him a little better.  And hopefully . . . ?
The bill came and I pulled out my wallet.
Bob stopped me, "It's on me."
"Are you sure?"  I asked.
"Well it's the least we can do.  I mean, you did show us a new
and, dare I say, wonderful place to eat."  Patricia smiled.
I couldn't argue.  "Well, I guess."
Andrew caught my eye again.  He was looking at me, smiling.
Was this boy flirting with me?  I wondered.  I giggled nervously and
watched as Bob pulled out sixty dollars and put it on the tray.  We all
got out of the booth.  As I got out, I felt a hand brush down my arm.
It was Andrew.  We walked back Cross' house.  Andrew invited me in
and I gladly accepted the invitation.  We walked into the front door.  I
was hit by the smell of stale air with a trace of air freshener.  Andrew
grabbed my hand and led me through a maze of boxes, up through the
second floor into, what I assumed was, his room.  He closed the door
behind us and gave me a goofy smile.  There was already furniture in
the room.  It had been delivered a day earlier.  Someone must have
given them directions on where the furniture would be.  A bed was in
the middle of the room, along with a long desk along one wall.  There
were windows along two of the walls.  The bed and desk looked like an
island in a sea of pine tiles.
"So . . ."  Andrew said awkwardly, "We're going to the same
school, I guess."
"Yeah.  You're going to love it."  I sat on the edge of his bed.
He smiled warily, "I hope so."
Andrew sat on my lap.  I wrapped my arms around his torso.
Well . . . they needed to go somewhere.
"So who do I have to fuck here to get a drink?!"  I said in a mock
angry voice.
"Not me!"  Andrew exclaimed and tried to wiggle out of my grip.
Soon we were around the ground, wrestling.  We rolled all over
the floor, until I hit my head on the edge of the bed.  I froze and
waited until the waves of pain washed away.  Andrew stopped when he
heard the clang.  He was on top of me now.  His pelvis was against
mine and his face was just inches away from mine.
"Are you alright?"  His breath was warm on my face; I could still
smell the Thai food.
I touched the back of my head, no lump, no broken skin.  "Yeah,
I'm fine."
I looked into Andrew's eyes as he looked into mine.  The
moment slowed, someone, somewhere, pressed the slow-mo button.
Andrew reached down to feel where I had bumped my head.  I could
smell the deodorant he was wearing, his day old clothes.  He made
sure that there was no bump and then he returned me to my original
position.  Time passed, I could feel him start to harden and I felt his
muscles tense nervously.  I slid my hand down his back.  I wanted to
touch his skin.  Look at more of his tan, see if he had any tan lines and
where he stopped.  I slid my hand under his shirt and started to slide it
off.  I felt the warmth of his body above me.  His skin was soft, I
wanted to touch it repeatedly.  His skin drove me crazy.  Well, skin
drives me crazy.
Once his shirt was off, I looked at his torso.  It was tan, very
tan.  Almost as tan as mine.  His love handles were delightful.  I
flipped him over on his back and started making love to him.  I kissed
him on his chin and spread little butterfly kisses up along his cheek to
his forehead and back along his other cheek to his chin.  When I
looked back at him he had a wild grin.
"Wow."  He said.
"Yeah."
I pushed him down by his chest and moistened my lips.  I dove
down and kissed him hard, lustfully.  He kissed back harder and we
were into it.  He started to move his hands into my ass.  I pushed
down each time he did so.  I could feel his bulge growing.  Meanwhile,
I was fighting the urge to take him on the bed.  After all, there were
three other people in the house.  We stayed there for a while, kissing
and grinding.  We had gotten really hot and I could feel sweat
accumulating on Andrew's back, under my hand.  Suddenly, there was
a knock at the door.
"Matt?"  Bob called through the door.
I had already gotten Andrew's shirt rolled up and shoved it on
him.  "Yeah?"  I tried to make my voice sound normal.  Not strained
and out of breath.
"Your mom wants you to come home soon."  Bob said.
"Alright."  I acknowledged what he said.
Andrew was on the bed now, he was blushing like mad.
"Do you need to sleep here tonight?"  I adjusted myself.
A mischievous smile passed over his face.  "No."
"Want to sleepover at my house tonight?  We can put all of your
shit away right now?"  I offered.
He looked at the four medium sized boxes in his room.  He
looked back at me with one of those, "I don't think you can work
miracles" looks.
"Com'on, dude, it'll be fun."  I smiled at him and opened the
computer box.
He went on to work on his clothes.  I had the computer up in five
minutes.  Andrew was still working on his clothes.  I moved to the
lights, pictures and telephone.  By the time I was finished, Andrew was
helping me.  We had spent a half an hour filling the room.  It was 5:00
pm now and I needed to get home.
"Do you know the number here?"  I asked him.
There was a piece of paper that he took out of his pocket.  It had
his phone number and address.  I swiped a pen from Andrew's desk
and wrote it on my arm.  There was paper four inches away, I noticed
later.
"Alright, your phone's up.  I'll call you in a few minutes.  I have
to clear it with mom.  But I think she'll let you stay the night."  I kissed
him as I ran out the door, down the stairs and to my house.


The smell of Italian cooking hit me when I entered my house.  I
walked down the stairs, to the kitchen.  My house is on the top of a
small hill.  This makes the house look like it has more floors than it
really does.  The kitchen has panoramic floor-to-ceiling glass windows,
looking at a lagoon in Bay Farm Island.  Directly across from us, on the
lagoon is another row of houses.  Upon entering: In the left corner of
this room is the actual kitchen.  You know, the range, the fridge, the
cupboards, counters, knives, utensils etc.  To the left is a bookcase
with thousands of cookbooks and hand-written anthologies of recipes
that we have collected.  My mom and I love to cook.  And there she
was, my mom, at the range.  I watched for a minute.  She was in deep
concentration.  She stood 5'6" with bleached blonde hair a gentle face
that held blue eyes, a small nose and slightly pink lips in a fragile
frame.  She looked totally calm even though she was performing a
procedure that caused a lot of stress.  She has practiced it for so long
though.  Place the dough concoction into a pot of steaming out, wait
for it to puff and then quickly take it out.  Mom doesn't work and after
school we always had time to cook and experiment with new things.
"Smells good, mom."  I kissed her on the cheek and grabbed a
spoon to try the veil.
"It's for dinner, not a snack, Matt."  Mom warned me.
Down to business, "The new neighbors across the street. . .  Can
Andrew sleep over?"
"As long as his parents are okay with it."  She told me.
"Alright, I'll tell him."
I ran up the stairs to my room.  Vertical Horizon was still playing
at a low level.  My room IS on the second floor.  Along the left side are
my bed, computer, desk and two phones.  One is a corded phone, and
the other is a hands-free phone.  I have the corded phone there in
case the power goes out.  To the right were another bookcase and my
dresser.  The bookcase was not full of cookbooks, of course, I read a
lot.  And directly ahead would be another set of panoramic windows
and a skylight, with a spiraling stairwell up to the roof.  Several times I
wondered if Andrew's and my house were created by the same
developer.  A large, walk-in closet was right behind the staircase.  In
front of the panoramic windows was a big screen TV.  Around the
room, on the walls was a Dolby Surround Sound system.  I dialed
Andrew's number.
"Hello?"  It was Andrew.
"Andrew."  I said.
"Matt."
"You can sleep over.  Did you check with your parents?"
"Yeah they said it was cool."
"Awesome!  My mom is cooking.  It's Italian.  Hurry up or I'll eat
it all."
"Alright, I'll be over in fifteen minutes."
"See you then."


I spent that time cleaning up my room.  I cleared all of the dirty
clothes to the closet, swept the floor and ran off to take a shower.  The
bathroom was through my closet.  I took a quick shower, did my hair
and rubbed on my pit stick.  There was still time for me to make sure
everything was alright.  I looked through all of the drawers of my
dresser to make sure that the things I wanted to be hidden were.  As I
was securing the last of the embarrassing photos I had, the doorbell
rang.
"Got it mom!"  I ran to the door.
Andrew was standing there with his pack.
"Hey Andrew,"  I greeted him, "Come in."
"Cool house, dude."
"Not as cool as yours.  Come on."  I lead him up to my room.
Andrew let out a barely audible gasp when he stepped in.
"Oh my fucking jesus!"  He exclaimed.
"Yeah, I said that too."  I smiled at his reaction.  "Com'on there's
more."
I took his hand and led him up the stairs to the roof.  The roof
was a big concrete porch.  A large barbecue was set up and a table
with a sun shade.  As it was spring break, this shade was handy.  From
the roof one could see three different backyards . . . .  across the
lagoon.  I'm very happy with my house, obviously.  When my mom
showed it to me my heart almost stopped.  When she said she had
already bought it, I started jumping up and down, screaming.
"This is so fucking great!"  Andrew exclaimed.
"You have one too."  I said mater-of-factly.
"We do?"
"You mean you don't know about it yet?"
"No, why?  Is it obvious?"
"You know the stairs in the middle of the hall?  Just before the
kitchen?"
"I thought that was just there for decoration."
"Well, they aren't.  When you go back home, try the door.  If no
one has already found that room, I suggest you take it."
Andrew was confused now.
"Don't worry about it."  I said, "Once you see it, it'll all make
sense.  Now, come on.  Dinner should be ready."
------------------
This is the revised (edited) version of part one.  Part two will be coming
shortly.  Send my feed back to me@th380y.net  You can also go to
http://www.th380y.net and read more of this series there.