Date: Tue, 22 Apr 2014 23:19:20 -0400 (EDT) From: DJAkeeba@aol.com Subject: Tragedy in the Blood, Chapters 34 & 35 This story is about male/male relationships and contains graphic descriptions of sex. You should not read this story if it is in any way illegal due to your age or residence. This is a work of pure fiction. This story is the sole property of its author and may not be copied in whole or in part or posted on any website without the permission of the author. Questions and commentary can be sent to djakeeba@aol.com Please consider donating to keep Nifty going. Details at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ---------------------------------- TRAGEDY IN THE BLOOD by Steven H. Davis Chapter 34 By the time we got to the motel on Friday night, it was past midnight. We were all too exhausted and emotionally drained for the usual hotel hijinks of traveling high school teams, and Carter and I retired to our room immediately, passing out in a large but lumpy queen-size bed before Mr. McRory even came by to check that we were there. Carter was wearing nothing but the skimpiest of salmon-colored briefs, and I awoke on Saturday morning at around 7:45 to find his erect penis peeking out against my leg to wish me a good morning. As nice and large of a penis as it was, and as attractive as I found Carter, I knew that this situation could not have a satisfactory resolution. Thus, I hastily leapt from the bed and got into the shower, hoping that he would compose himself by the time I got out. Instead, I came out of the shower to find Carter jacking it to *Aerobicize,* Showtime cable's "exercise" program which centered on a trio of slutty-looking, barely-dressed women doing squats and thrusts to tinny dance music. I covered my eyes and began dressing as he continued stroking his cock, oblivious of my attempts at discretion. "Why don't you join me?" he said casually. "Uhm... no thanks, man," I demurred. "I wanna get dressed and go have some breakfast." "Suit yourself," he said with a sleepy grin as I rapidly donned my suit and tie and got the hell out of there. I strolled into Denny's a few minutes later to find Linda and Mark chatting amiably. They had both advanced in Poetry Reading, and were scoping out the competition from Mr. McRory's hastily scribbled sectioning notes. I slid into the seat next to Linda and ordered an iced tea and a Lumberjack Special for breakfast. It was going to be a long day, and I needed my energy. I picked up a poop book from the table and consulted the schedule. Saturday 9:00 - PR, PO, IMP Semis. 10:00 - LD, NCX, CX, CCX Semis 11:00 - Extemp Draw for Semis. 11:15 - HI, DI, OO, ME, WE Semis 12:15 - Gallery of Champions Luncheon - South Hall 1:15 - LD, NCX, CX, CCX Finals 2:15 - PR, PO, IMP Finals. Duet Finals. 3:15 - Extemp Draw for Finals 3:30 - HI, DI, OO, ME, WE Finals 5:00 - Awards Assembly - Foxrun HS Auditorium With Mike and Linda in Poetry and Carter in Prose, we had to get to the school by around 8:45, so we wolfed down our meals and jumped on the bus. Carter strolled on just before we left, flopping down in the seat next to mine with a wink and a grin. "Did you enjoy yourself?" I asked. "I always do," he giggled. Last night's debate rounds had removed Robin, leaving only Robert in the semifinals against Johnston High's Rick Warren, who had won Kansas University's workshop tournament over the summer against some of the best debaters in the nation. I went to watch Linda's Poetry round and then headed upstairs to see Robert's debate. Kathy, Cindy, Roger, Jim, Robin, Pablo, Mark, Linda, and the rest of our team was there to support him as well. Robert, surprisingly, had a fairly easy time with Rick Warren, boxing him into corners during cross-examination and then rebutting his points in such a way as to frame a logical cage, which Warren couldn't find a way to escape. High-fiving Robert, I made my way to my Humorous semifinal feeling good about the way our team was doing. Most of the older kids went to watch Carter's Humorous or Robert's Dramatic, while Mark went to see Kathy's Women's Extemp semi and Pablo went to watch Robin's Oration, but I still got Cindy for my audience, and I hugged her before performing to show that I appreciated it. My section was fairly lacklustre, with most of the cuttings being from tried and true classics like *The Importance of Being Earnest* and *Volpone,* so my outrageous piece really stood out. This could be a good thing or a bad thing, and with an older, presumably more conservative judge, the risque nature of Durang's *Titanic* could end up hurting. I got a lot of laughs, however, and although I felt my semis performance wasn't as technically sharp as the one I gave in prelims the previous evening, I still thought I kicked some serious ass for old Polk High. I went back to the cafeteria, where the postings informed us that Robert had advanced to Dramatic Finals and Men's Extemp Finals, Robin to Oratory Finals, and Kathy to Women's Extemp Finals. I congratulated them all, just as we learned that Robert would be in the LD Debate Final against -- who else -- Chamberlain's Bobby Merman. Linda and Mark had been eliminated from Poetry, and Carter didn't get through in Prose either, but still had hopes for Humorous Finals along with me. Another surly Foxrun freshman emerged from the tabulation room, and a small crowd gathered around him as he taped and unraveled the poster reading "Foxrun IQT - HUMOROUS FINALS - Room 132." Carter stood with Jim and Roger awaiting the results, and had obviously been smoking pot with them, as his eyes were half-lidded and bloodshot, and he had a goofy grin on his cute weaselly face. Kathy and Mark stood by me for support, Mark deciding that squeezing my ass was an appropriate form of encouragement. 1. 16A 2. 22A 3. 14B 4. 36A 5. 21G 6. 8A 7. 17F 8. 5B Carter came over to give me a congratulatory hug before disappearing with Jim and Roger, presumably to the parking lot for some more of what they effetely referred to as "partaking." Kathy and Mark got me high and low -- Kathy surprising me with a big kiss on the lips while Mark grabbed me in all kinds of sensitive areas, grinning like a hyena. "Oh, my Little One," said Kathy somberly, "now you are a man." I giggled and followed her to the Gallery of Champions luncheon, which was held in a special banquet room for all the finalists, catered by a local restaurant which was one of the tournament sponsors. Robert and Robin were the only other Polk finalists, and the four of us sat together at one of three long tables packed with tournament royalty. Eric Chase came over to congratulate me, and I told him I was looking forward to finally seeing him perform. I admit, I was starting to feel like a bigshot, sitting at this fancy table with all the upperclassmen and people like Eric, Bobby Merman, and Brookwood's Lucille St. Hawkins. After the luncheon, I headed back toward the cafeteria. Linda was waiting for me in the hallway, a look of concern on her face. Puzzled, I let her take me by the arm and lead me into a quiet alcove by one of the school's back doors. "Rick," she said seriously, "I need to tell you something. Promise you'll listen to everything I say before you say anything back, okay?" Now I was really starting to become nervous, but I nodded anyway. "Well," Linda continued, "I just spent the last forty-five minutes in the parking lot with Taine." "Taine's here!" I exclaimed, but Linda shushed me with a stern look. "Rick, listen! Yes, Taine and Sly are both here. But Taine was really upset. I mean, super upset with you." "With me?" I was completely taken by surprise. "Why would Taine be upset with me? What did I do?" "Do you remember asking Taine to come and see you perform if you made the finals?" "Yes..." "Do you remember asking Taine not to wear his hat to the finals?" "Yes..." I still didn't see where this could possibly be going. Linda smacked the palm of her hand against her forehead. "Oh, Rick, you dummy! How could you?" "How could I what? Linda, what the hell are you even talking about?" Linda rolled her eyes as if she was dealing with a total moron. "Okay, Rick." She paused and began to explain, her voice slow and condescending, talking to me like I was a child. "First of all, don't you realize what that hat represents? Maybe he takes it off around you now and so you don't realize it anymore, but it's Taine's only line of defense against the outside world. You got in, but that doesn't mean he's ready to let a crowded room full of strangers in suits and dresses in too. He needs to wear it to protect himself. You should know that!" "But... but..." I sputtered. "You can't sit there and wear a hat when you're watching actors perform. It just isn't done and it's rude as hell. What would people think?" Linda pointed at me directly, raising her other hand in the air in triumph. "Ah-hah!" she exclaimed. "And that's the second thing, the most important thing. 'What would people think?' That's what you're worried about. What all those other people would think, and you're not thinking about what Taine thinks. You're not thinking about what Taine wants." She stared at me, her face and voice getting angrier by the second. "Out there in that parking lot is a very hurt, upset and lonely boy," Linda continued. "And he's wearing a hat. And that boy loves you. Him. That boy. Taine. The boy in the hat. Not all those other people in the room who are only sitting there hoping their friends beat you like a rug. That boy and his dad drove three hours to come and see you because they love you and they want you to do well. And all you care about is that he doesn't wear a fucking hat and... what?... make you look bad? You should be ashamed of yourself, Rick Spivey. You don't deserve him!" With that, Linda turned on her heel and marched away. I stood there for a moment in stunned silence. She was right. I didn't deserve him. I hadn't been thinking of his wants or needs at all... this sweet, hurt boy who dared to trust me above all the other people in this world, who had opened his wounded heart to me, who had given me everything I ever wanted from a relationship and so much more, and this is how I repaid him. I felt like shit. I was a real asshole. I checked my watch, then turned around, my head hanging in shame and humiliation, and began to walk slowly toward my finals room. I was stopped by a pair of black Jegs sneakers in front me. I looked up to see Taine, complete with cargo pants, army jacket... and, yes, the cap, sitting firmly atop his beautiful head. "I'll take it off before we go in the room," he said quietly. Without saying a word, I went to him and wrapped my arms around him in a loving and apologetic embrace. He hugged me back, but lightly, as if not quite sure how to approach the situation. I noticed then that he had a cut just below his bottom lip. I took him by the arm as we went to find my finals room, talking on the way. "Babes, what happened to your lip?" I asked with concern. "Oh, you know," he said dismissively. "Sometimes I chew on my bottom lip when I get nervous. It's nothing. It'll heal. But, listen, I need to talk to you later. After you do your thing. I don't want to distract you when you need to concentrate." My heart broke. Here he went again, putting my needs before his own, even when I had upset him so greatly. I really was an asshole, I thought to myself. We got to the door of Room 132 and I pointed it out to Taine. I looked inside and immediately noticed at least five people in the audience wearing baseball caps. GOD! "Taine," I said, "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have asked you not to wear your cap, and I shouldn't have put my stupid concerns about appearance and propriety ahead of you. I never want to put anyone or anything ahead of you. I love you. Please, wear your cap." "That's easy to say now," he smirked. "Look at all those hats in there. Do you have time to go with me to get my dad?" I checked my watch. Five minutes. Fuck it, I'd make time. I'd even leave this tournament with him right now before the finals even started if he wanted me to. He was my Babes, and he would always, always come first from now on. "Yes," I said, kissing him. "But, do me a favor... wear the hat, but please stop chewing on your lips, huh? That's my job." He smiled at last, and I started to think that maybe it would be okay for a while, at least until we could talk more about what had happened, and what damage I had caused. We hurried to the parking lot, where I was mortified to see Sly leaning on the hood of an old black Dodge Charger. Standing next to him was a tall, thin young man whom I guessed to be 22 or 23 years old. His resemblance to both my Babes and Sly was nothing short of astonishing. My mouth hung open as Sly beckoned me forward. "Rick!" he said happily. "Come over here and meet someone. Let me introduce the long-lost prodigal son." "Hi," the young man said, extending his hand. "I'm Blaine Maxwell." ---------------------------------- Chapter 35 Taine didn't say a word as I automatically took Blaine's offered handshake and told him my name. I was, of course, filled with questions, but neither Blaine's eyes nor those of Sly Maxwell seemed to hold any answers. So, this was the long-lost brother. The other person in Taine's life who had abandoned him to his house of pain after the death of his baby sister. What was he doing here now? Why did Sly seem so casual about his return? Why had he been following me around in his broken-down black Charger? And Taine? And even freaking Linda, whom he didn't even know? And why wasn't Taine showing any reaction whatsoever to his sudden presence in the Foxrun High School parking lot? And... oh, shit, Humorous Finals! "I... uh... I'm going to be late for my round," I stammered. "Well," said Sly, "we better get our asses in gear then! Let's move 'em out, boys!" And so it was that we all hurried to Room 132, and I performed a cutting from Christopher Durang's *Titanic* to a packed finals room in front of my coach, most of the Drama team, Sly, my hat-wearing Babes, and Blaine. One might think, given the circumstances, that I would have been incredibly distracted, focusing on the interplay between the recently reunited trio of Maxwells and how shitty I had been about the hat thing rather than on the wacky interactions of a doomed family of nutjobs aboard an ill-fated luxury liner in 1912. One would be correct, and I don't think that I gave my best performance, but the script was funny enough to carry me along anyway. I got my fair share of laughs and a big round of applause when I was done. Personally, I was most impressed with Eric Chase, who did a cutting from James McLure's *Lone Star,* a one-act about two Texas brothers who reflect hilariously on their messed-up lives during a drunken conversation behind a rural honkytonk. Eric's timing, depth of characterization and obvious empathy for the characters made it less of a comedy sketch and more of a penetrating insight into two flawed but fascinating lives. As usual, he brought down the house. After the round, I briefly exchanged congratulations with Eric, and then joined the Maxwells in the hallway. Sly clapped me on the back and gave a hearty laugh. "That was really great, Rick," he said. "Really funny. I think you've got a good chance, but what the hell do I know?" I smiled and thanked him, then noticed Taine and his brother walking away, heading outside the school. I looked at Sly questioningly and he threw an arm around my shoulder and led me in the opposite direction. "Let's give the boys a little time alone," said Sly. "They probably need to talk about some things." If I had ever heard a massive understatement, that seemed to be the one. I agreed that we should let Taine and Blaine talk, but wanted to get some answers myself, so I followed Sly outside to the other end of the building and lit a cigarette while he perched on a cement planter, watching me. "Those things are gonna kill you someday, kid." "Probably," I replied. "Sly, I hope you don't think I'm being out of line here, but..." "But what the hell is going on?" Sly grinned. "Pretty much," I admitted. "Blaine called me on the phone about two weeks ago. He's been living in Asheville, North Carolina. He actually came to see one of my races without me knowing about it before... well, before we moved here." Sly paused for a moment, and I could see the pain in his eyes as he was reminded of his wife's death. Shaking it off, he continued. "Anyway, he called me and I went to see him over at the little motel near your school. We had a long talk, and he explained how he'd basically done the same thing that I'd done after my daughter passed. He had to get out, and he stayed gone. He felt like shit about it, like I do, but after I explained how I pretty much did the same thing, we got into how he wanted to change, how I wanted to change, and how we both wanted to be there for Taine now." "So why hasn't he made himself known to Taine?" I asked. "Why all this sneaking around and following us in his car?" Sly snorted. "You knew about that, huh? I guess he's not much of a detective." "What?" I was getting pissed now. "You knew he was following us? What the hell, Sly, we were thinking it was the psychos who killed my dog! Why didn't you tell us?" "It's complicated." Sly got up from the planter, and turned away from me. I could tell this was uncomfortable for him, but Blaine had scared the hell out of my Babes, after abandoning him just like Sly had, and now he was suddenly back after sneaking around and following us for two weeks? I needed some answers, like right fucking now. "Tell me," I said firmly. "Why?" Sly rubbed one of his large, beefy hands across the back of his leathery neck and sighed heavily, as if he was internally deciding whether to answer me or not. Finally he turned around, and I could see compassion in his eyes. "Two things," he said in a husky, quiet rasp. "One, he wasn't sure whether Taine would accept him back into our family yet. Remember, at that point he hadn't even fully accepted me. I'm still not sure if he's really okay with everything between me and him yet. I wasn't going to try to shove Blaine back into his life too." "But you said 'detective'," I persisted. "That means you sent him to follow us around and spy on us, doesn't it? Why?" "He wasn't spying on you," Sly growled. "I told him that you guys needed protection. We didn't know who was after you or what they were ready to do. Killing your dog? Trashing my car? That's serious shit, Rick, and we weren't sure just where they were going to stop. And you guys would have felt weird with me following you around all the time -- especially Taine -- and Rex... well..." "There are a lot of times that Rex shouldn't be driving," I said. "I know. But Rex taught me how to shoot, and I'm always packing. I'm even packing now. Why did you think Blaine could do any better?" "Because Blaine joined the military right out of high school, and he was a sharpshooter before he bailed on the army like he bailed on his brother," Sly said, with a hint of resentment in his voice. I wanted to say that Sly had bailed on Blaine's brother too, but we had already dealt with that. Still, I was finding that this discussion was bringing those feelings back up, so I imagined that Sly was probably right. Bringing Blaine back earlier would have done the same to Taine. I stubbed out my cigarette butt with my shoe, then picked it up and tossed it in the trash while processing all of this in my mind. It still didn't quite make sense to me... why ambush us in the parking lot before my finals round? So I asked. "Why all this, then, Sly? Why shove Blaine in our faces now? I was really freaked out up there, and I don't think I gave a very good performance. And Taine... I mean, did you see the look on his face? Wasn't there a better way to do this?" Sly nodded gravely. "Probably," he said. "But Blaine was sick of hiding. He would've come up to you on his own, and I wanted it to be here, where you and Taine wouldn't go running off somewhere if he took it bad." "You wanted a captive audience," I said, finally getting it. "So it had to be here. No offense, Sly, but that kind of sucks." I turned away from him then and began walking back toward the doors of the school. He hung back, knowing I needed some space, for which I was grateful. I didn't really want to be around anyone at that moment. But I did want to do one thing. I wanted to check on my Babes. I rushed down the hallway toward the opposite set of doors, but didn't go outside. I just looked through the glass, spotting Taine and Blaine sitting on the hood of Blaine's Charger, their heads close together as they talked. Taine's head was down, and I thought that he was probably crying. Blaine reached an arm out slowly, tentatively reaching for Taine's shoulder. Suddenly, Taine took his brother in a tight, frantic bear-hug, burying his head in Blaine's neck. I could see their backs heaving with sobs even from the doorway, and tears began to run down my cheeks. But at that moment, I knew that things were actually going to be okay. That was when Sly came up behind me, putting an arm around my shoulders and hugging me to him sideways, also observing the drama playing out on Blaine's car. "It's going to be fine," he said. "Look, they're hugging. I think Taine really missed him." I nodded, wiping my face with a handkerchief from my suit's breast pocket. I knew why Blaine had come back, and I knew why Sly had let him. I wasn't angry at Sly anymore. It's not how I would have handled this situation, certainly, but I was fifteen years old. I had absolutely no idea how I would have done it. After all, I'm the one who had managed to screw up a perfectly simple invitation for Taine to watch me in the finals. "Sly," I said calmly, "does Blaine know about us? Me and Taine, I mean?" "He does," Sly replied. "That was a whole 'nother discussion that Blaine and I had. It took him a little while, I have to be honest. In fact, his first piece of detective work was to tell me about you two. I already knew, of course, and I had to calm him down because he was ready to come after you." I smiled. "Did you tell him you knew?" "Yeah," said Sly. "That kind of took the air out of his sails, because he was sure I'd want to come and pound you for leading my son into a life of sin. I had to explain to him that you loved Taine as much as I did, and that you'd do anything for him. I told him about the thing with Coach Keith, I told him about the fight with Kevin that started all this shit, so he understood that part. He knew that you wouldn't hurt Taine, but he still had a problem with the two guys thing." "Taine had a problem with it too," I said. "He told me about the talk you had with him out by the pool. I'm really glad you accept us, Sly. Life would really suck if you didn't. For both of us." "I know," Sly said quietly, patting me on the back. "Listen, Rick, I know it's hard for both of you. It would be hard even if we didn't live in Texas. But all the crap and judgment that people throw at you, now and in the future, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters, the only thing that should ever matter... is that you love each other. That you are family. That you're there for each other even when life is tough. Especially when life is tough." "We are," I said. "I've seen that you are," Sly assured me. "You've shown that, and I believe that you will be from now on. I wish I had been there when it was tough, and so does Blaine. That's what I told him over and over during the next few days after he came to me with his 'discovery'." "What did he say?" I asked. "He took a while, like I said. But eventually he got it through his head. He and I are the last people in the world who can make judgments about the commitment that the two of you have made. Because we couldn't make that commitment to Taine ourselves. Blaine gets that now." "I'm glad," I said. Sly looked at his watch. "It's almost time for the awards. Let's get those two knuckleheads in here and see you win something." He opened the door and bellowed "BOYS! Get in here!" They looked up, and then Blaine threw an arm around his brother as they hurried inside to join us. I couldn't have been happier. ---------------------- The Foxrun High School auditorium was packed with students and coaches. Some of the kids -- mostly non-finalists -- had changed clothes for their bus rides home, which would begin right after the conclusion of the ceremony. The Maxwells and I hastily located the Polk contingent and went to sit with them. I sat next to Linda, with Taine and Blaine next to me, and Sly in the row behind me next to Mr. McRory and his old college friend, Johnston coach Richard Burke. There were more nervous glances than usual among myself, Kathy, Robin and Robert as the heavyset coach of Foxrun's speech team, Steve Stone, took the stage and ambled to the microphone with his characteristic rolling waddle. The curtains parted to reveal a gleaming table full of trophies and a well-dressed Brandy Rockford to hand them out. "Good evening, coaches and competitors, and welcome to the 17th Annual Foxrun High School TFA-IQT Awards Assembly," Stone began, to massive applause. "I want to thank everyone for making this a fun and smooth-running tournament, and we want to especially thank the parents and coaches who acted as judges, timekeepers, and helped run our tab room. You all have gone above and beyond the call of duty and we owe you a big round of applause!" Stone then went on to list the Foxrun students who had helped with the tournament... by name. For nearly ten minutes. I didn't know any of them, but Kathy and Robert seemed to, and applauded when they were named. Sly punched me softly in the leg and held up a thumb, wishing me luck. Taine sat silently, the brim of his cap down, Blaine's arm around his shoulders. I reached for Taine's hand and he flinched, so I moved it back into my lap, looking to Linda -- now in jeans and a Polk sweatshirt -- for support. She took my hand tightly, and we concentrated on the ceremony. I decided Taine probably needed to bond with his brother more than he needed to be there for me right then. "And now," Coach Stone continued with a flourish, "with no further ado, let's hand out some hardware! Third place in Novice Cross-Examination Debate... from Lorrimar, Chuck Franklin and Mary Green!" And so it went. Chamberlain's Bobby Merman won LD, but Robert qualified with a 2nd place. Kathy and Robert did not place in Extemp, but Robin qualified for State with his 2nd place trophy in Oratory. There was a showdown in Dramatic, with Robert and Eric Chase being the favorites, and we nervously awaited the results. Lucille St. Hawkins from Brookwood got 3rd, and then we all leaned forward as the result was announced. "Taking 2nd place in Dramatic Interpretation... from Van Ark High School, Eric Chase!" There was thunderous applause as Eric -- who had just beaten Robin to win Oratory -- took the stage again. But the applause from our section was because we knew what that meant. "And in 1st place," Coach Stone announced, "From James K. Polk High School, Robert Steadman!" We all hugged and slapped Robert on the back as he went up to get his trophy. There was only one event left, and it was... "Now the results in Humorous Interpretation. In 3rd place, and qualifying for State, from James K. Polk High School, Richard Spivey!" I was swamped with hugs, kisses, backpats and cheers as I made my way to the stage, and when I got back, Blaine and Sly admired my trophy along with the rest of our team. But it wasn't until we had made our way out of the auditorium and I walked the Maxwells to their cars that Taine even acknowledged me. As he got into the passenger seat of Blaine's Charger for the ride home, he gave me a curt nod of his head and said, "You did good, man. Talk to you later." He got into the car, closed the door, and Blaine took off for the highway. I figured that it was one of two things: Taine was uncomfortable with expressing anything to me in front of Blaine, or he was still pissed about the hat incident. Either way, his flat tone didn't exactly fill me with confidence. Sly must have sensed my distress, because he clapped me on the back and squeezed my shoulder with his hand. "You want to ride back with me, Rick?" "Thanks, Sly," I said quietly. "I have to ride back on the bus with the team. Some kind of policy about insurance on school trips." "I get it," he said, then paused and looked me in the eyes. "Give him some time, Rick. This has been a heavy day for him." "I know," I said. "See you tomorrow. Thanks for coming, Sly. It meant a lot to me." Sly congratulated me again, then got into his Lambo and pulled away. I looked at the trophy in my hand for a moment, and, with a rueful shake of my head, slowly trudged across the parking lot to the team bus. ---------------------------------- Thank you for reading Chapters 34 & 35. To be continued... Once again, I'm always happy to hear from readers at DJAkeeba@aol.com. You have all been so supportive and encouraging, and I thank you all for your e-mails. If you're enjoying this story and others on Nifty, please consider making a donation to the site. Details at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html