Date: Wed, 12 Dec 2012 00:43:42 -0500 (EST)
From: Kell <daredevillain862@aim.com>
Subject: Rory-17

We must have driven for nearly half an hour in silence before Colonel
Marley pulled the car into an embankment alongside a country river. I had
no idea where we were but I assumed he'd know the way back. He parked the
car & turned it off.

"What are we doing?" I asked.

"We're talking," he replied firmly.

"About WHAT? I said sorry & that this kind of thing won't ever happen
again," I charged.

"Why do you act out?" he said flatly, turning to me.

"What?"

"Why do you act out? Why do you feel the need to do all this shit?"

"I don't have a reason."

"That's not a good answer."

"Do you have a lighter?" I said, digging into my pocket for a cigarette. "I
need a smoke."

Suddenly, I felt my arm yanked up as the Colonel forced me to face him,
holding my arm painfully above my head.

"Cut the shit Rory! What's the deal? Do you LIKE pissing people off?"

"It has its perks," I grinned.

"We'll see what your mother has to say," he threw my arm down. THAT got
me. He knew it would.

"I TOLD YOU, I don't want her knowing! All she'll do is try to lecture me
again on she thinks I could benefit greatly if we met each other half way &
started becoming closer or whatever it was she last read in a magazine. Or
motel pamphlet."

"Do you know how much trouble you could have ended up in?" he asked me,
much more calmly this time. I almost felt bad for yelling at him now.

"Yes."

"You might have this whole tough-guy attitude out here, but if you ended up
in prison, lemme tell you...you wouldn't stand a chance."

"Don't lecture me on prison life."

"Maybe you need a good lecture & maybe for once in your life you should
fucking listen," he snapped.

"I appreciate the things you've done for me Colonel, I do. But it's a
little too late for the whole responsible-role-model-from-far-away bit," I
said. Damn, if I could just rub two sticks together, I could get a light...

"I don't believe that for a second. Sure I wasn't there for you growing up,
but I wouldn't say it's ever too late to help someone."

"You weren't there for me growing up because that's not your job. It's
really not even Ray's job to raise. Parenting," I said with a mocking voice
"is the duty of the parents primarily." I started to feel fidgety. Just one
cigarette, is that too much to ask for? "So don't kill yourself because
that woman & a man I'm pretty sure was just another client of hers weren't
there. I would never fault you."

"Rory, it IS my fault because it WAS my job," he said. I rolled the window
down. It was getting stuffy in the car.

"How?"

"Like you said, it's a parent's duty to take care of their children," he
said calmly.

I gave him a weird look. "Yeeeah..."

He just continued to look at me, as if I was supposed to just GET what he
was talking about.

"Rory."

"What? Colonel, I'm so confused, what the hell are you TALKING about?" I
said.

He tilted his head forward a bit & blinked.

"What?" I said again.

For christ's sake, it was like he was telling me he was my damn dad or
something!

Suddenly, it clicked.

I looked at him.

"Wait...what?" I said quietly.

He nodded.

"You mean...no, bullshit," I shook my head.

"It's true," he said, his face softening.

I stared at him in disbelief. "You're serious, aren't you." He nodded. "You
mean.....................you're my...my dad?"

He hesitated before responding.

"Yeah," he replied softly. "I am."

I can't tell you what my first thought was. But my second thought was to
get out of the car, which I did. I opened the door, got out & slammed it
shut, my back against it. Colonel Marley followed suit, getting out of the
car & walking around to the hood, waiting to see my reaction.

"Ok, what...I don't understand...you're...what?" I stuttered, feeling mixed
emotions. I didn't look at him. Instead I stared straight ahead into the
woods. "How are you my dad?"

"Well, I first met your mother when your uncle & I were still working
together & she stopped by to visit him for a little while, I guess to get
more money for...whatever. And so I was instantly attracted to her & I
THOUGHT she felt the same way. But...the morning after we slept together,
she told me what I 'owed her' & that's when I learned what she did for a
living."

I felt my throat close up & my eyes get puffy.

"I guess I was right all along...I was just the product of her & a client."

"Rory, don't think like that."

"Tell me it's false," I shot him a dirty look. I was filled with mixed
emotions. Somewhere I could feel a twinge of happiness. Happy not
necessarily because I found my father, but rather because it was Colonel
Marley. Unfortunately, the feeling wasn't very strong & once again, my
anger won out.

In my head... I screamed the most horrible things at her. I felt hot tears
threatening to roll down my cheeks as I ground my teeth so hard together I
swear my jaw was about to fracture. I had never hated anyone or anything so
much in my life than I did at that moment. Sure, maybe the Colonel's
feelings were a little premature for just meeting someone...but she USED
him. She had used countless men but this was different on an unfathomable
scale. That one moment where Colonel Marley, a man who I had admired so
much, thought maybe he could have found someone for him, only to be slapped
in the face with something like THAT. My mouth was open, on the verge of
screaming out into nothing. I dug my nails cruelly into the side of his
car, stripes of paint gathering under them & groaned involuntarily out loud
as each breath I took crawled through a closed throat.

I saw images of terrible things. Terrible things I wanted to do to her. I
gasped as I realized that through my thoughts, I hadn't taken a breath, not
wanting to interrupt my thoughts. Just then, I felt my stomach lurch & out
of nowhere, I fell to the ground & vomited.

"Rory!" the Colonel cried as he rushed over to me & knelt down, putting a
hand on my back.

His touch...his touch made me feel even sicker.

I angrily turned my head to him. "Don't touch me," I growled at him,
throwing his arm off me.

"Rory, I'm sorry..." he said, his eyes watery.

I felt my face go red hot as he apologized. I shot daggers at him, his
apology nothing but poison being poured into an already open wound. I
couldn't even bring myself to scream at him I was so angry at everything. I
took a breath & spit furiously right in his face. As he lifted a sleeve to
clean it off, I lunged at him with all my weight & shoved him hard up
against the car. Standing up, I took off into the woods without looking
behind me.

"Rory!"

I continued to run as fast as I could. I ran for at least 10 minutes
straight with no breaks. When I came to a small open area in the woods, I
collapsed onto my hands & knees & became sick again. This time though, it
was more than a bit of spittle. I heaved what felt & looked like half my
insides onto the cold, hard dirt. Only...it wasn't enough. Trembling, I
stuck my hand into my mouth & tugged at my uvula. Immediately, I felt my
gag reflex kick in, but instead of stopping, I kept going. In a matter of
seconds, I spewed out wave after wave of hot, bitter bile, my body ejecting
whatever it had last consumed. But I didn't stop. I couldn't. I kept at it,
feeling my stomach empty itself out onto the ground. For several minutes I
continued on, for what reason I'll never figure out. But what I did know
was that I just needed to.

After almost 10 minutes, I began to feel light-headed. I finally stopped
when I saw a tiny hint of red among the pool of yellow and brown. Whether
it was blood or just some sort of discoloration I didn't know, but I had
had enough. I was kneeling in a puddle of my own vomit, my one hand on the
ground & the knees of my pants stained & soaked. For nearly the whole time,
I was emotionless. But now that I had stopped, I felt my fury come flooding
back to me.

I wasn't done.

I stood up & walked over to a huge redwood tree, my teeth grinding against
each other as I huffed angrily. Staring at the hard bark, I clenched my
fists. I angrily shot a fist forward into the side of the tree, a jolt of
pain blasting its way up my arm. But I didn't stop. I punched with my other
hand. And then the other. As hard as I could, I madly punched at the
massive being before me, my bare knuckles smashing themselves against the
wood. Harder & harder...with each hit I ground my teeth in blind rage more
& more. I clenched my eyes shut as I slammed my fists into the wood over &
over again. But closing them couldn't stop the tears, which now flowed
heavily.

With each punch, I choked on my anger, tears pouring down my cheeks. I
opened my mouth & screamed. Screamed as loud as possible into the cool,
crisp air. I kept screaming, so much & so loud that my voice cracked as I
felt as though whatever shreds of a soul I had left in my being escaped
with each blow to the tree.I screamed & sobbed & gasped & screamed more as
I kept my fists crashing against the trunk. Only when my arms finally tired
did I stop. Through wet eyes, I looked at my hands. My knuckles were
virtually gone, replaced now with craters of where skin & tissue once were,
with hot, dark red blood now wildly gushing out & spilling onto the ground
and down my arms like a sink that couldn't stop. Both my hands & most, if
not all, my fingers were undoubtedly broken. But I didn't feel
anything. They were the least of my problems at this point.

My shouting finally died down as I sank pathetically to the ground & fell
back against the tree's trunk. I held my lame hands in my lap, staining my
pants even more now, mixing blood and vomit. I began to just...cry. Tears
were nothing new to me. But simply crying was something that I hadn't done
in many years. I leaned my head back & sobbed openly, guttural moans
breaking out as cried not out of sadness...but of hatred & anger. To anyone
passing by it probably would have looked like I was very sad about
something. But I wasn't sad. I was so...angry that my body just couldn't
handle the kicking, screaming or punching anymore. It was just acting in
any way it could. And this mopey, weeping, pathetic excuse for a way had
now, on top of everything, given me a splitting headache.

I cried...& I cried...& I cried. I cried until I just couldn't anymore. My
body was drained. Keeping my eyes closed, I leaned sideways until my body
feel limply onto the ground. Moving my back against the tree, I passed out.

*****

It was two hours later when I came to as I looked at my red-stained
watch. I wiped my tear-crusted eyes with the back of my wrists, only to
feel the sticky feeling of still drying blood transfer over. I looked at my
hands. It looked like they had only just begun to actually stop
bleeding. By now I could feel the raging pain sear through my wrists &
hands. I didn't care though. With a struggle, I made to back to my feet,
looked around to see if I could remember which direction I had come from &
started my way back. It had taken me almost 10 minutes to run as fast as I
could from where the Colonel & I had parked to wherever I was. Fuck only
knows how long it took me to reach that area again.

I don't know what I was expecting, but I was surprised when I saw the
Colonel's car still park in the same spot. I could see Colonel Marley
sitting in the driver's seat, his head leaned back. I hesitated for a
moment before dragging myself to the passenger's side. Opening the door
painstakingly, I woke Colonel Marley up from his snooze. I climbed in as he
watched me quietly, staring at my vomit and blood soaked clothes. He must
have seen my hands.

After an awkward moment of silence, he finally spoke up.

"What did you do to your hands?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were my dad?" I asked him hoarsely.

"Rory...we need to talk about your hands. Are they broken?" he asked.

"No," I lied, "now answer me."

"I'll get you back to your uncle's house, we'll clean you up, go to the
hospital, get you checked out to make sure your hands are ok-"

"Why didn't you tell me you were my dad?" I said again, slower this time.

"Rory..."

"Why didn't you tell me you were my dad?" I swear to GOD I was about to
have a fucking meltdown that would dwarf the other one if he didn't answer
me in two seconds.

He sighed.

"The first time I met you, when you were a little boy...I couldn't be
sure. I was so sure it was but not enough to bring it up & make an issue
out of it. I mean...haven't you ever noticed how similar we look?"

I studied his facial feature for a moment, going over his eyes, their
color, his hair...as I took it in, I was dumbfounded. He was right...we had
always looked alike & I had never even known it.

"When I ran into you a few years later, I knew it just had to be. And by
chance, I briefly ran into your mother & when I asked her about it...she
told me that it was definitely me."

"So she knew..." I said. I was on the verge of another meltdown with every
passing second. But this time, I think even my own body recognized that it
didn't have the strength to explode again.

"Yes. Rory..." he said. I turned to look at him. "I've wanted to tell you
so badly all these years. But each time I've seen you, it just got harder &
harder to think of how I could do it without you being mad at me. I guess I
was right..."

"Why now?" I asked blankly.

"Because for one thing, it IS time you knew. But also because you're
obviously going through something that I wanna be there to understand &
help you with. I'm so sorry Rory, but if you can find any room in your
heart to forgive me, I really wanna get the opportunity to start something
between us."

I looked at him for another moment before I turned my head to look out the
window. Leaning my head back against the seat, I sighed.

"Rory?"

"Just...take me back to Ray's," I whispered.

After a second, I heard him finally start the car up. The ride back was
silent.

*****

When I walked through the front door, she was sitting in a chair reading a
cooking magazine when she looked up.

"Hey guys, how's it...OH MY GOD!" she cried, jumping up & dashing toward
me. Colonel Marley, who came in behind me, must have signaled her to back
off because she suddenly looked past me & stopped in her tracks, her eyes
never leaving my limply hanging hands.

"Rory, what happened! What's going on??" she asked frantically.

I walked closer to her & lowered my voice, feeling one last hate-filled
tear painfully slide down my cheek.

"If my hands weren't broken," I whispered, "you'd be dead on the floor
already."

She looked at me, unsure of how to feel, as I slowly made my way past her
to my room.

When I made it into my room, I shut the door & moved toward my
closet. Inhaling sharply, I painfully removed most of my clothes & threw
them into a nearby trash bin. With my lame arms, I rummaged through my
closet & dragged out my stashed away cooler. Managing to flip the lid off,
I was met with the comforting image of nine cold beers situated amongst
ice. They would ALL be put to good use tonight.

Sitting on my bed, I noticed a large, dried semen stain on the front of my
boxers. That must have happened back in the woods. I smiled awkwardly as I
leaned over & grabbed a cigarette & a lighter off my nightstand. I winced
in pain each time I tried to get a light. After a few painful minutes, I
finally did it & lit up. I took a long drag & blew out. But I didn't intend
to smoke the whole thing. I took a second drag & looking again at the front
of my boxers, laughed at how fucked up everything just was. I took the
glowing end of the cigarette & pressed it firmly into the underside of my
left forearm, the heat searing through my skin, causing me to gasp. When
the pain was finally so intense that I was able to block it out, I flicked
the butt into the ice-water filled cooler & looked at my arm. A deep red
welt has risen up & blood was threatening to escape through the surface.

Leaning over, I grabbed the edge of the cooler & moved it with me farther
back against my bed so I could lean against the backboard with the cooler
on the floor right next to me. Picking up a beer, the sheer coldness
shocking my hands, I bit the tab off, spit it out, put the bottle up to my
lips & drank away whatever was left of the day.

It didn't take too long to succeed with that.



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