Date: Thu, 29 Mar 2007 11:51:00 -0400
From: ronyx <ronyx@woh.rr.com>
Subject: Taking Off the Mask   Chapter 5

The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone are purely
coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may contain
profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please leave
and find something more suitable to read. The author maintains all rights
to the story. Do not copy or use without written permission. Write Ron at
ronyx@woh.rr.com with your comments.  Ronyx is a Nifty prolific writer.

Taking Off the Mask    Chapter 5

Love takes off the masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we
cannot live within. James Baldwin

"So you and your mom finally kissed and made up?" Jackie asked, as we
sat in the cafeteria eating lunch Monday morning.

"We made up, Smart Ass," I said smugly, "but we didn't kiss. I'll
let you do that."

"Ew," she wriggled her nose, "that's gross. I ain't a lezzie."

"I don't know," I shot back. "When's the last time you had a date.
No wait. When did you ever have a date?"

"You have a lot of room to talk," she responded. "You've never been
on a date either."

"I'm not the one who's boy hungry," I said. Just then Donovan walked
across the cafeteria. He was wearing shorts and I was staring at the dark
hair on his legs. His calves were well-developed, as you would expect an
athlete's legs to look. He walked on his toes with a boyish bounce. I'd
never noticed that before.

"Then the alien came down, took me up in his spaceship and flew me to a
far-off planet."

"That's nice, Jackie."

"And a pack of wolves ate the Grinch who stole Christmas."

"Uh, huh."

"You're not listening to a word I've been saying," she waved her hand
in front of my face, bringing me back to reality. "Damn, James. Why
don't you just strip him with your eyes?"

"I don't have to," I said dreamily. I've already seen him naked,
remember? I'm just remembering what he looked like."

"I hate you," said Jackie. "Next time take a picture with your cell
phone."

"If I did that," I grinned, "I'd never leave my bedroom."

"Damn, James," she said disgustedly. "Too much information."

I watched as Donovan sat down at the jocks' table and began talking to
his basketball friends. Suddenly, he stopped talking and looked over at
our table and waved. Jackie immediately waved back.

"He just waved at me," she swooned. "I think I'm going to die." I
was puzzled. Even though it wasn't apparent who he had waved to, I was
sure it wasn't Jackie. I turned to see who was in back of us, but there
was only a few computer geeks sitting at a table. I was sure he hadn't
waved to them.

"Ask him for a date," I said, just to get her more excited.

"I can't do that," she squealed. "We're talking Donovan Michaels
here. I'd kill myself if he said no."

Just then the bell rang and everyone headed to the exits. I said goodbye
to Jackie and headed to my fourth period class. Suddenly, a hand clamped
down on my shoulder. I turned and looked up into the smiling face of
Donovan.

"Hey, Little Dude," he smiled. "You like my show yesterday."

My face immediately began to burn. How could I even begin to answer a
question like that? I was sure he hadn't seen me looking at him, but
apparently he had. I tried to pull away, but he gripped my shoulder
tighter, holding me back.

"It's alright, James," he leaned down and whispered in my ear. "I was
hoping you'd look."

"I better get to class, Donovan," I managed to stammer out. I tried to
pull away from his grip, but it only made him clamp down harder on my
shoulder.

"Me and you need to hook up sometime," he whispered. "You're a nice
looking guy. We could have some fun." He released his grip on my
shoulder and patted me on my back. I picked up my pace and almost ran to
my class. My heart was pounding from Donovan's words. I couldn't
believe that Donovan Michaels had just asked me to go out with him!

I don't think I remembered a thing that was said in any of my classes
the rest of the day. If someone had asked me my name, I probably
wouldn't have been able to tell them that either. All I could think of
was Donovan's hand on my shoulder and him whispering in my ear that he
thought I was nice looking and we should get together sometime.

On Saturday my alarm went off again at 5:45 in the morning; but this time
I had set it. Unlike last weekend, I was looking forward to going. All
week I had thought of Mr. Wilbur. I want to say I felt sorry for him, but
that would be a poor choice of words. He appeared to be quite cheerful
and happy with his life. I guess it was hard for me to imagine what it
would be like to have to live in a nursing home and not be able to go
places when you felt like it.

When I went to the kitchen to grab some orange juice, there was a note on
the table with three one dollar bills. I picked up the note and read it.

Have a good time. Here's the money you lost to Mr. Wilbur. I've left a
little extra, but I hope you don't lose it too. Love, Mom

I smiled and pushed the money into my pocket as I headed out the door. It
wasn't raining like it had the previous week. In fifteen minutes I was
hiding my bike and heading toward the back entrance. As I began to enter,
I saw Dion walking toward the building.

I didn't know whether to wait for him, or to go upstairs without him. He
had already seen me and had slowed his pace. I decided it was stupid for
us to be spending Saturdays together and not talking to each other. I was
going to make one last attempt to speak to him.

I waited outside and watched him approach. He seemed hesitant to come
toward me, and for a minute I thought he was going to turn and walk away.

"Hey," I said, blocking the door so he would have to speak to me.

"Hi, James." He was looking down at his feet, waiting for me to step
aside.

"Why don't you like me?" It was meant to be a simple question, but
when it came out of my mouth it was filled with a little more hurt than I
intended.

"I don't hate you." He raised his head and looked into my face. His
brown eyes sparkled in the early morning sunlight.

"Then what is it?" I asked. "We spent a whole week together in
detention and you didn't say more than a dozen words to me."

"It's hard for me to talk to guys I.." He suddenly stopped and stepped
forward, trying to pass me. I reached out and grabbed his arm. He turned
and we stared into each other's eyes.

"Guys you what?" I asked. I didn't know what he was going to say.

"Nothing. Forget it." He stepped around me and opened the door, leaving
me to watch him walk briskly down the darkened hallway. The elevator door
opened, and he turned and our eyes met once again. We did not break the
stare until the door closed.

When I approached the second floor nurses' station, Dion was talking
quietly to his mother. They looked at me as I approached, then Dion
walked away and headed down a hallway, carrying a large box.

"Good morning, James," Nurse Dorothy sang out. Her greeting was
melodic, as you would expect a nurse's voice to sound. It's no wonder
her patients loved her so much.

I'd only worked with her one week, and I was already an admirer.

"Good morning, Mrs. Car.." One stern look and I immediately knew my
mistake.

"Good morning, Nurse Dorothy," I said smiling.

"I talked to your mother and she told me how much you enjoyed visiting
last week." She walked from behind the counter and took my hand. "Most
young people don't like coming in here, even when they are visiting
their grandparents."

"To be honest, Nurse Dorothy," I confessed, "I felt the same way when
I first came in last week."

"That's not important now," she patted my arm. "What is, is the fact
you're here and willing to help out. Mr. Wilbur will be so happy. He's
been talking about you all week."

"I had a lot of fun playing games with him," I said. "Besides, I have
to get my money back."

"What are you saying?" she asked. "He's not gambling with a child is
he?"

"I'm not a child," I said indignantly. "I'm old enough to know what
I'm doing. Anyways, it's only for quarters."

She patted me once again on my arm and smiled. "Yes, but for the record-
this conversation didn't take place."

"What conversation?" I grinned.

She clapped her hands together and said, "Now let's get to work." She
pointed out a large box. "Take that down to the storage area, would you?
Dion already took one. He's rearranging the room so we can store more
supplies. Help him out for a bit before you go into Mr. Wilbur's room.
Will you dear?"

"Yes, of course," I said as I picked up the box.

The storage room was actually an unused patient's room. It was extremely
cluttered. It appeared that people just randomly placed supplies in it
without any order. I couldn't imagine how anyone could find anything in
it.

Dion was struggling, trying to place a large box atop a smaller one. He
had turned his back and I noticed that it was going to fall on him. I
dropped the box I was carrying and rushed over and tried to prevent the
box from falling on him. As I did so, the weight of the box came crashing
down on me, hitting me on the temple and knocking me to the ground.

"Are you alright?" asked Dion. He was lifting the box off me and
inspecting me for injuries. "It hit your face." He gently caressed the
side of my face before giving me a surprised look. He stood quickly and
looked down at me.

"Are you just going to leave me lying here?" I asked. He hesitated a
moment before extending his hand to me.

"No, of course not." He lifted me to my feet and held my hand a little
longer than necessary. When I looked down, he quickly pulled his hand
away.

"I need to get back to work." He picked up the box and tried to find a
place for it. I watched as he became frustrated.

"I have an idea." I said. "Why don't we rearrange the room so it will
be easier to find things?" He stood back and shrugged his shoulders. I
guess he was waiting for me to tell him what to do.

"First, we need to put everything in the hall and then sort things.
We'll bring them back in and place them in some kind of order. Go get a
marker from your mother."

When he returned we emptied all the supplies into the hallway. I had Dion
mark on top what each box contained. We worked for the next hour and
neither of us said a word. Occasionally, I'd notice him watching me
work.

"There." I said proudly. "Now it will be easier to find things." I
stepped back and looked into the room. Everything was organized and
marked as to its contents. Dion stood beside me and smiled.

"It looks good, James." He said admiringly. "Momma's going to be
surprised when she sees it."

"Sees what?" I heard Nurse Dorothy from behind me.

"Look," Dion pointed proudly into the room. "Look what James did."

"My goodness," she exclaimed as she walked around the room. "It's
been ages since I've been able to walk in here. And you've marked
everything. How clever." She walked over and gave me a big hug.

"Dion helped too," I said quickly. I didn't want her to think that
only I was responsible. She walked over and wrapped her arms around him.

"This is wonderful," she said. She kept looking back and forth at Dion
and me. For some reason, I felt she wasn't talking about the room.

"You boys deserve a reward," she said. "Follow me." She led us down
the hallway to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She pulled out a
couple of jello cups and two orange juices. "Now sit down and take a
break. You deserve it." She pointed to a table in the corner of the
room. She left, leaving us alone.

I walked over and sat down. Dion held his juice and jello in his hand and
looked around the room for somewhere else to sit.

"I don't bite," I said.

"What?"

"I said, I don't bite. You can sit down with me if you want."

He tentatively walked over and sat down. He opened his jello and started
eating. We sat in silence for several minutes.

"I like your mom," I was trying to break the deadly silence between us.
"She's cool."

"Yeah, she is," he mumbled.

"You known her very long?" I watched his face as he tried to comprehend
what I had said. I giggled when I saw his mouth curl into a smile.

"See, that didn't hurt." I smiled.

"What?"

"To smile. That's the second time I've seen you smile." Through his
dark skin I saw him begin to blush. He looked up at me and his brown eyes
sparkled.

"Whatever," he responded. He gave me a questioning look when I started
laughing.

"I hate it when you say that," I replied. "It's so rude."

"Whatever," he repeated. Only this time he looked at me and grinned.

"How long have you been helping your mother here?" I asked. Since he
seemed to have opened up a little, I wanted to keep the conversation
going.

"A little over a year, I think," he replied. "I did something at home
she didn't like, so she punished me by making me come here and work one
weekend."

I started laughing. He looked at me like I was crazy. This only made me
laugh harder. "The same thing happened to me. My mom got so mad when I
got in trouble at school, she made me come here."

"So you're not doing this because you want to?" he asked.

"Not originally," I confessed. "But now I'm having fun. I like Mr.
Wilbur."

"Yeah, he's a cool old guy," he said.

"He swindle you out of any money yet?" I asked. "He got me for a
dollar and a quarter last week."

"He's owed me four dollars for about six months," he said, "and he
still hasn't paid me a dime."

"Have you asked him for it?"

"Naw. It would take all the fun out of it if he did pay me. This way I
can always throw it up in his face."

"Maybe I'll lose enough for him to pay you back."

"Whatever." He looked into my face and grinned.

"Yeah, whatever," I smiled. We sat and looked at each other for a
moment. I was trying to read what was going on inside his head. He seemed
to be such a neat guy, but it was as if he was holding something back.

"Come on, Boys," Nurse Dorothy peeked her head in the door. "I said a
small break, not the rest of the morning."

She shook her head slowly as we both shouted in unison, "Whatever."

Mr. Wilbur was waiting for me to arrive. He had set up the checkers set
and was playing a game against himself. He looked up and smiled when I
entered.

"Good morning," I said cheerfully.

"James!" he exclaimed, "I've got the board all set up. Get ready for
an old-fashioned ass whooping."

"In your dreams," I replied.

"By the way," he said, "did you bring me the money you lost last
week?" I reached in my pocket and took out a dollar and handed it to
him. He looked at it and extended his hand.

"What?" I grinned.

"You still owe me a quarter," he reminded me. I reached into my pocket
and pulled out another dollar and handed it to him. He quickly stuffed
both dollars in his shirt pocket.

"Hey!" I said. "You owe me seventy five cents."

"You'll owe it to me at the end of the day anyway," he responded. "So
I might as well hold on to it." He was right; after five games of
checkers, I owed him another $1.25.

"How about another game of Sorry?" he asked after he noticed me
starting to tire of playing checkers.

"Sure," I said. "Sounds good." I put the checker set away and grabbed
the game of Sorry.

"So tell me how school went this week," he said as I was setting up the
game.

"It's just school," I replied. "What more can I say."

"Are you a good student?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," I said. "All `A's' and `B's.'"

"Good for you," he remarked.

We started playing the game in silence. He kept looking at me, like he
was trying to read my mind.

"Tell me a little about yourself," he said, breaking the silence. "Do
you have a boyfriend?"

"No, Sir," I blushed. I felt a little uncomfortable with his questions.
I wasn't used to talking about such personal details of my life. Jackie
was the only person who I confided in.

"But you like a boy?" He smiled when I began to redden even more. "So
you do? Who's the lucky guy?"

"No one really," I insisted.

"Please humor an old man," he replied. "I want to know who has stolen
the heart of my young friend, James."

"Alright," I said. "His name is Donovan Michaels."

"Not THE Donovan Michaels," he sounded surprised. "The basketball
player?"

"Yes," I replied. "He plays for our school."

"He's a really good ball player," Mr. Wilbur replied. "I've been
following his career in the newspaper. Several big colleges are scouting
him."

"He asked me Wednesday to go out with him," I admitted.

"No shit!" He sounded just like Jackie when I told her about our
encounter.

"Yeah, he wants us to hook up," I said. I watched as the smile on Mr.
Wilbur's face turned to a frown.

"Hook up?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "What's wrong?"

"Be careful of guys like Donovan Michaels," he warned. "They can be
dangerous."

"Well, he only mentioned it." I assured him. "It's not like he's ask
me out on a date."

We began playing Sorry. Nothing else was mentioned of Donovan; but I was
puzzled by Mr. Wilbur's warning.

We'd been playing for about a half hour when Dion came walking in. He
stood behind me and watched us for a few minutes.

"Would you like to join us, Dion?" asked Mr. Wilbur.

"No, Sir," he answered. "Momma wants me to help her with another
patient." He turned and disappeared out of the room.

"He's such a nice young man," remarked Mr. Wilbur.

"He's kind of strange," I said.

"Why do you say that?" He looked at me curiously.

"He doesn't say much too me." I answered. "We served detention for a
week and he didn't speak more than a few sentences the whole time. Even
now, he will hardly talk to me. I don't think he likes me very much."

"Maybe he likes you more than you think," he replied as he continued
moving his piece around the board.

"You said that last week," I said. "What do you mean by that?"

He stopped and sat back, looking me in the eyes. "Some people have
trouble showing their true feelings. They wear a mask so people don't
know what's going on inside them."

"I don't understand," I confessed.

"Look at you," he said. "You wear a mask." I gave him a confused
look. "On the outside you lead everyone to believe that you are a
straight, young man. But behind the mask, you are a boy struggling with
his sexuality."

"I've never looked at it that way," I said. "So what are you saying,
I should tell people I'm gay? Take off my mask?"

"No, not at all," he said quickly. "You wear the mask for others to
see; just take it off for those who you want to know the real you."

"But it's hard to do that," I said. "Only two people know I'm gay-
my friend Jackie, and now you."

"But doesn't it feel good to remove the mask," he asked, "and show
the real you?"

"Yeah, it does." I confessed. "I feel more comfortable around you and
Jackie than anyone else. I don't have to hide my feelings."

"You mean, hide behind the mask?" he smiled.

"Yeah, hide behind the mask." I sat back and reflected for a minute on
what we had just discussed.

"What does this have to do with Dion, though?" I asked after a minute.
"Does he wear a mask, too?"

"We all wear masks to hide something," he replied.

"What can he be hiding?" I wondered aloud.

"I don't know," he responded, "but if you're lucky, maybe someday
he'll remove the mask and let you.

________________________________________

Email Ron at ronyx@woh.rr.com with your comments.

Visit my website:  www.themustardjar.com for additional stories.