Date: Thu, 10 Apr 2014 23:33:31 -0400 (EDT)
From: DJAkeeba@aol.com
Subject: Tragedy in the Blood, Chapters 8 & 9

You all seemed to like the last double-dose (if my mailbox is any
indication), so here's two more chapters together.  Now for the usual
disclaimers...

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


----------------------

TRAGEDY IN THE BLOOD
by Steven H. Davis

In Chapter 7, Taine's father went to Houston for the evening and left Taine
over at Rick's house while Rex and Tynah attended an Officer's Club Ball at
the local military base.  They talked about their lives and their shared
love of horror films and watched "Alien" on television, although Rick was
far more interested in Taine than in the film.  Later, in Rick's room,
Taine broke down in tears about the death of his mother, and Rick confessed
his love for Taine and kissed him.  Taine bolted from the room, panicking
Rick, only to come back in before he left and assure his sobbing friend
that everything would be all right.  When Taine left, Rick cried at his
miscalculation for the rest of the night until Rex and Tynah returned
home...

Chapter 8

"Where the hell is Taine?" asked Rex, as he came into my room and saw me
crying on the bed.

I heard Tynah's voice calling "Taine?  Taine?  Where are you, honey?
Rick?"

"He's in here," said Rex, standing next to my bed awkwardly.  He was still
in uniform, but had removed his tie and jacket. Instantly, Tynah appeared
in the doorway, her brow knitted in concern.  I turned toward the wall,
trying to cover my tears and embarrassment.

"Rick, what's wrong, honey?"  She came to sit on the bed, placing a
comforting hand on my shoulder.  "Did you and Taine have a fight?"

I nodded my head and began to weep again.  Rex, never the best with
emotional scenes, shrugged his head and left my room to pour himself a
drink.  Tynah stroked my shoulder, attempting to soothe me as my body shook
with sobs.

"Oh, honey," she drawled in her syrupy Kentucky accent.  "It's all right.
Boys fight all the time at your age.  You two will be friends again.
You'll see."

She paused and removed her hand.  I could tell, even without looking, that
she was straightening up to ask what she really wanted to know.  Calm the
hysteric, then get the facts.  The thought led to my bitter smirk as I
wiped my eyes and began to come back to myself.

"Do you know where he went?" Tynah asked.

"I guess he went home," I replied, still sniffling.

Tynah stood up and left me there.  I heard her pick up the phone in the
master bedroom, presumably calling Taine's house. There was silence for a
while, and then the sound of Tynah hanging up the receiver.

"Rex, he's not answering," she said.

"Ah, he's probably there and being a little bitch like Rick," said Rex.
"Those two are like a couple of little girls."

I pulled my pillow over my head and forced it against my ears with both
hands so I wouldn't have to hear.  I heard anyway, but at least it was a
little muffled.

"Honeyyy," Tynah pleaded in that annoying drawl, "can you go over there and
check on him?  We promised Sylvester that we'd..."

"Ah, shit," I heard Rex say, and something slammed loudly.  "I fucking knew
this was going to end up with me putting myself out.  Everyone around here
is always 'poor little me'..."

I heard him pause as he passed my open door.  His voice took on a mocking,
high-pitched tone.

"Me me memememememe ME!"

I heard my door slam shut, and Rex stomping down the hall toward the
kitchen, where his car keys always hung on a tiny hook right above the
spare house keys.  As the door to the garage opened, I heard "Fucking
assholes!" and the door banged shut.  Then the slam of the car door, the
gunning of the engine, and the car squealing down the road.

I sighed heavily , pulled the pillow down over my eyes, and cried myself to
sleep.

--------------------

The next morning, I learned from a crabby Rex that Taine had indeed been
home, but hadn't told him what happened when Rex had asked.  I said a
silent prayer of thanks and left for the bus stop.  I waited there for a
few minutes, then -- dreading the awkward moments which I was sure would
ensue once Taine got on the bus -- I decided to walk to school.

It wasn't that far, only a mile and a half, and I walked and rode my bike a
lot, so my legs were strong and my stamina was good.  I'd have taken my
bike, but I was always worried about it being stolen during the school day,
one of the downsides about attending a city school near the mall and the
Interstate.

As I rounded the corner from my narrow suburban street to the main road
leading to the school, turning over the previous night's events in my mind
from every angle, a white VW Bug pulled up beside me and honked, startling
me from my zone-out.

I looked over to see Kathy Witcher, a senior from the Drama and Debate
teams, gesturing me to the passenger side. Grateful for the ride, I opened
the door to see her sly and somewhat condescending smile.

"Get in, little one," she said seductively.  "I have to get there early."

I climbed in and closed the door, remembering -- with a shudder -- to
attach my safety belt securely around me as Kathy pulled the car away from
the curb.

She was a pretty girl, if a bit overweight, and her manner of dress, makeup
and hairstyle made her like a mature, sophisticated career woman, even at
seventeen.  I thought she would make a great lawyer, as the trophy table in
Mr. McRory's room was crowded with her awards for debate, oratory and
extemporaneous speaking.

"You're a cute little fish, Rick," she observed.  At Polk, "fish" was the
upperclassmen's term for "freshman," so I took her statement as a
compliment.  I was wearing a clean red Izod polo shirt and a hip-hugging
pair of Jordache jeans with Sperry TopSider boat shoes, and I noticed her
glancing down at the bulge in my tight pants as we drove along.  "You
should come out with us on Friday."

"What's going on Friday?" I asked.  As upset as I still was from last
night's events, I perked at the prospect of being invited out with the big
kids.

"Oh, you'll see, little one," she purred as we pulled into the school
parking lot.  I thought her calling me "little one" was pretty silly, as
she stood almost a foot shorter than me, but I found it both endearing and
-- oddly -- pretty hot.

Kathy parked the Bug in the senior parking lot, turned off the engine and
regarded me seriously, her eyes sparkling with what looked to me like pure
sex.

"Be ready at eight," she said, leaving no room for argument.

I nodded, flummoxed and blushing, and got out of the car.  Friday night was
sure to be an adventure!

But as Kathy and I parted ways outside the school -- she leaving with a
slow, sexy wink -- my thoughts returned to the previous night's events.  I
had really done it this time.  I was sure I had driven Taine away forever,
and it made me wish I was dead.  I had only known him for a week, and I
thought I would literally die if I lost him.  And I had no one to blame but
myself if that was what had happened, as I was convinced that it had.

Please just kill me, God, I thought to myself.  Either bring Taine back to
me or just kill me.

Then, thinking again of Friday night's event, the other part of my mind
added...

But you can wait until Saturday morning.

---------------------

I was surprised...

No, not just surprised... let me start again.

I was overwhelmed, overjoyed, beside myself with happiness when I entered
Mrs. Colby's classroom and Taine gave me a small wave, inviting me over to
where he sat drawing something in his notebook.

"Hey," I ventured tentatively.

"Hey," he responded.  "Your dad came over really late last night.  He
seemed drunk."

"Yeah," I said softly.  "My mom tried calling you and she got worried when
you didn't answer, so she sent him over to check if you were okay.  I think
she's just so used to him being drunk that..."

"Oh, man, was he drunk," Taine smiled.

"Yeah," I said, taking my seat a row back from his and to the right.
"Anyway, we were all happy you were okay."

I thought I saw him nod slightly, but he didn't say anything else because
the bell rang and Mrs. Colby began her lesson. Something about gerunds, I
think.

--------------------------

Taine sat with me at lunch again, and again I ended up with most of a bonus
meal.  We were both trying our best to avoid talking about what had
happened, and instead fought the awkward tension by talking -- a little
more loudly and forcefully than usual -- about this and that, everything
and nothing.  Mostly nothing.

I was at least happy that our relationship had not been completely
destroyed, but it had obviously been altered.  Just before the bell rang
and we left the lunchroom to go to our separate 4th period classes, Taine
looked at me and said something.  He said it so quietly that I couldn't
really hear him over the din of the students in the hallway, so I asked him
to repeat himself.

"My dad is getting back from Houston today," he said.  "He wants to know if
you want to come over and have dinner with us?"

My heart skipped a beat, but I studied him for a moment, trying to decide
if his father's invitation to me was mutual.

"Only if you want me to," I replied.  "I mean, I don't want to..."

"Sure I want you to," he pointed out.  "If I didn't, I just would have told
him I forgot to invite you."

With that, he walked away to his locker and, once again, blah blah blah, I
was on Cloud 9 for the rest of the day.

--------------------------

So Rex and Mr. Maxwell talked briefly on the phone that afternoon, and Rex
told me to go pack a bag after he had gotten off the phone.

"I'm staying overnight?" I asked happily.

"Yeah," Rex said -- roughly, but with humor.  "I sure as hell don't want to
put up with both of you Whods babbling on all night.  Sly has more patience
with that bullshit, I guess."

"Sly?"  I was puzzled, never having heard the nickname for Sylvester
before.

"Yeah, Sly.  Your girlfriend's dad.  Get the hell out of here."

"Crusty old man," I teased, before bounding to my room to pack my things.
I was gone within five minutes, practically running all the way to the
Maxwell house.

-------------------------------

As I approached the house, I saw Taine and his dad ("Sly", I giggled to
myself) standing in their spacious driveway, scoping out an absolutely
gorgeous, brand-new 1982 model Lamborghini Countach.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed.  "Look at that car!"

I ran up to get a closer look, joining an obviously giddy Taine as he
walked around and around the cherry-red sportscar.

"Rick!" he yelled.  "LOOK at this thing!"

I did, and although I'm not really that much into cars, I was truly
impressed.  Mr. Maxwell stood by the garage door, in black jeans and a
tight black V-neck shirt, its sleeves straining at his massive biceps.  He
was grinning as he watched us examine his new purchase.

"Mr. Maxwell," I said excitedly.  "Just... wow!"

"Yeah," he chuckled.  "I figured that we needed something fast enough to
get out of the way next time.  And call me Sly."

"Okay, Sly," I agreed.

"We'll go for a ride later," Sly promised.  "Let's get your bag inside and
get you guys ready for dinner.  C'mon Taine!"

Taine had to struggle to pull his wide eyes away from the new car, but he
followed Sly and me into the house.  And that house was impressive, even by
the standards I'd expected from a racing legend.  I looked around the high
foyer with its enormous hanging crystal chandelier, wide mahogany staircase
and gold-rimmed skylights in a hallway-atrium beyond.

I could see into the expansive, tastefully-appointed dining room, and my
attention was drawn by a framed photograph of a radiant young woman,
cradling a small infant in her arms.  It was the most beautiful baby I'd
ever seen, and I knew in an instant that it had to be Taine.  My mind
wistfully played a snatch of one of Rex's old 78 rpm records:

You must have been a beautiful ba-byyy/ 'Cause, baby, look at you now...

"That's my mom and me," Taine said softly when he saw where I was looking.
"Dad says she always looks over us when we have dinner."

"All the time," Sly added.

"I'm sorry," was all I could manage.

"Taine's room is upstairs on the right," Sly directed me as Taine
disappeared into the hallway bathroom.  "You can take his brother's bed."

"Taine has a brother?"  I was surprised.  Taine had never spoken of any
family except for Sly and his mom, and I hadn't even considered that he
might have siblings.  I looked at Sly questioningly.

"Yeah," he said, "you didn't know?  His brother Chuck is away at college at
Rutgers in New Jersey, and his sister Sasha is at Berkeley.  I have seeds
all over the country!"

Sly smiled broadly and headed for the kitchen.  I could smell the delicious
aroma of homemade spaghetti sauce, and the wonderful garlicky smell
permeated the hall.  I began to climb the immaculately-polished stairs,
debating whether I should wait for Taine.  I was eager to see his room for
the first time, though, and I knew that he was probably in the bathroom for
a while, mourning his mother as privately as he did everything else.

When I reached the second floor, I turned right, past several closed doors
and more framed photographs of Taine, his mother and siblings, and Sly.

I noted that they were all family photographs, rather than the Formula 1
racing victory shots and publicity photos which I had expected.  There was
probably a trophy room somewhere, but it was clear that this was meant to a
loving family home and not a tribute to Sly's racing career.

I opened the door at the end of the hall, and found myself in a simple but
tasteful bedroom, with twin beds on either side of a large mahogany desk.
Other than Taine's school books and notebooks on the desk, a couple of
Rutgers pennants on the wall above what I surmised to be Chuck's bed, and
Taine's bookbag by the other bed, there was no sign that anyone lived there
at all.  In other words, it was just like my room at home.

The beds were neatly made, there were no other decorations on the sky-blue
walls, and the air smelled only faintly of lavender, a scent I traced to a
Glade Plug-In air freshener inserted in an outlet by the perfect,
white-trimmed wainscoting. As I looked around the room for any errant signs
of life, my eyes settled on a sliver of white sticking out from under
Taine's bed.

I went to pick it up, and found that it was a photograph of Taine's mother,
just as radiant and smiling as in all the other pictures I had seen that
afternoon.  But this one was wrinkled, unframed, and stained with countless
tears.  My heart broke in my chest again.  I replaced the photo under
Taine's bed and laid my bag at the side of Chuck's bed, sitting gently so
as not to mess up the carefully-placed diamond-print duvet, which matched
its twin across the room.

Soon, Taine came into the room, tossed his cap lightly onto his desk and
sat down on his bed, looking at me from across the room.

"You should probably go wash up for dinner," he said.  "The bathroom's the
third door after this one."

I got up and started to leave the room.  My heart thudded in my chest as I
heard him say one more thing, softly but seriously.

"After dinner... we need to talk."

------------------------------------

Chapter 9

Taine and I went downstairs to the dining-room, and found elegant place
settings at the expensive-looking antique table.  I assumed that Sly had
servants, owing to the posh decor and his wealth and celebrity, but then
Sly himself came in from the kitchen holding a large serving bowl of
spaghetti, which he set down gently on a cast-iron trivet in the middle of
the table.

"Almost ready, guys," he announced in his deep, raspy voice, then hustled
back to the kitchen.

Taine took a seat on the long side, and I sat opposite him, expecting Sly
to sit at the head of the table.  It was then that I noticed that there
were four places set, and all four of our crystal water glasses had been
filled.  I wondered who might be joining us as I looked toward the far end
of the table, but my eyes drifted up to see the portrait of Taine's mother,
and I suddenly understood.

Taine must have noticed what I was looking at, because he caught my
attention and said, quietly, "Don't laugh, okay?"

I widened my eyes and shook my head, mouthing "no" at him.  I would never
laugh at that, and wanted to make sure he knew it.  I felt another swell of
sadness and compassion in my chest, touched at the way that Sly and Taine
chose to honor their beloved memories.

Sly reappeared with a hot, steaming basket of garlic bread and a large
tureen full of homemade spaghetti sauce.  It smelled amazing, and looked
even better.  As he went back to the kitchen for the meatballs, I looked
over at Taine.  He had his head down and his eyes closed, and I thought for
a moment that he had fallen asleep.  Then I saw his lips mouth "Amen" and
realized he had been praying.

I believe in God, but I had never been one for much public display of
faith, including going to church or making a big show of saying Grace over
meals.  My mother had taken me to church only once that I could remember
after we left New York, one year on Ash Wednesday when we lived in South
Carolina.  My ill-timed attempt at humor after that event -- something
about "making an ash of myself" -- earned me a serious beating, but she
never took me back to church again.

Rex and Tynah said Grace over meals, and Tynah went to church occasionally,
but my Sunday mornings were usually spent with Rex in front of the TV
watching pregame shows and highlights of Saturday's college gridiron
action.  As Texans were always fond of saying, their priorities were God,
Texas and football, although not necessarily in that order.

Sly returned with the meatballs, taking his seat at the head of the table.
I noticed that he did not say Grace, but quickly kissed his fingertips,
extending them toward his late wife's picture, then tapping his heart and
crossing himself.  I was deeply moved by the gesture.

"Okay, guys," Sly exclaimed, "dig in!"

Sly watched as I served myself, then offered the spaghetti bowl to Taine,
who took only about a cupful.  Taine declined both garlic bread and
meatballs, which I loaded up on, but did ladle a small amount of sauce on
his noodles.  Sly, of course, loaded up his plate with heaping quantities
of everything and tucked in as if he had been starving.

--------------------------

Dinner passed fairly uneventfully, as we were all too busy eating to spend
much time in conversation, and I joined Taine in helping Sly with the
cleaning up afterwards.

"That was really great, Sly," I told him.  "Thank you so much for dinner
and for having me as a guest in your home."

Sly looked up from scraping plates into the trash can and seemed impressed
at my manners.  He smiled a lopsided smile, and I noticed that one side of
his face seemed partially paralyzed, as if he might have suffered a mild
stroke at some point.

"You're very welcome, Rick," he grinned, "and you can come over anytime.
Mi casa es su casa."

"He's talking Spanish again," Taine said with one of his adorable smirks.
"He'll be dragging us to one of those chupacabra stores in no time."

Sly shook his head.  "It's called a bodega," he said.  "A chupacabra is
some... what is a chupacabra?"

"It's a mythical creature," I chimed in.  "They call it a goat-sucker.
It's how they explain what happened to dead livestock they find in the
morning.  Like white farmers blame UFOs."

"Smart kid," Sly said, nodding.  "When we lived up north we had the Jersey
Devil.  You remember the Jersey Devil, Taine?"

"Natch," Taine replied, washing the dishes and handing them to me for
drying.

We finished our cleanup in short order, and I was hoping that there would
be some after-dinner activities planned, because I wasn't looking forward
at all to the private talk which Taine had told me was forthcoming.

It was not to be, however, as Sly had to get ready for a late meeting with
the owner of his racing team, a local bigwig known as Texarkana Gus, who
owned dozens of auto sales locations throughout Texas, Arkansas and
Louisiana. Gus had been instrumental in getting this house for Sly after
the death of his wife, and had told him that he would be happy having Sly
in Texas so that he didn't have to fly to New York all the time for
meetings.

While Sly dressed, Taine and I sat in the living room playing Atari.  Taine
was clad in a white t-shirt, white tubesocks, and thin grey sweatpants,
sitting on a giant, chocolate-brown overstuffed Naugahyde sofa.  I leaned
against the same couch, but sat on the thick, golden shag carpeting in
khaki shorts, my Sperry TopSiders, and a dark-blue Izod .  Like I said
before, I'm a "floor person," even when I'm a guest.

Taine throughly whipped me at Missile Command, but I made some progress
with Space Wars.  We didn't talk much, as Taine was obviously biding his
time for our discussion until after his father was gone.  I felt an ominous
air of foreboding, wondering just what that talk had in store.

After what seemed like hours but was probably only about twenty minutes,
Sly came bounding down the stairs in a yellow silk shirt, sky-blue slacks
and black Italian ankle-boots which must have cost more than my entire
house.  He had a gold chain around his neck, and a dark blue blazer folded
neatly over one arm.

"Okay, guys," he announced, "I'm out of here.  Don't burn down the house.
I'll be back around one."

With that, he was out the door, and I heard the brand-new Lamborghini
Countach revving up in the driveway, then pulling away from the house.  I
think both Taine and I were holding our breaths until we could no longer
hear the Lambo's engine from down the street.  We played a game of
Centipede, which Taine won handily, as I was too full of nervous dread to
even make a plausible effort.

When he had slain his last scorpion, Taine dropped the controller on the
carpet and regarded me for a long moment.  He patted the seat of the sofa
beside him.

"Come up here," he said.

I nodded slightly, then put my arms behind me and slid up onto the couch
next to Taine.  My heart was pounding a mile a minute, just certain that he
was about to call me every foul name in the book, castigate me and
excoriate me for daring to kiss him and tell him that I was in love with
him.

Or, which I somehow feared even worse, maybe he was going to kill me with
kindness, telling me that he had no problem with my preferences, but that
he was not now, nor would he ever be interested in boys.  I dreaded the
soft, tender compassion in his eyes, and was sure that the words "I hope we
can still be friends" coming from those beautiful, sweet lips -- which I so
longed to taste once more -- would destroy me forever.

Instead, what Taine said was, "I really miss her."

I was so not expecting him to talk about his mom, I had so worked myself up
into a state of panic over what had happened the night before, that I must
have had a very strange expression on my face.  Taine took my gobsmacked
look -- in the sad but endearing way in which he took most everything -- as
a judgement of his sorrow.

"What," he said sullenly, "you think I'm being a pussy?"

"No, Taine!" I exclaimed.  "Oh, God, no!  I know how much your mother meant
to you.  To you and Sly both."

"Yeah, maybe me more," Taine said.

I furrowed my brow at this cryptic remark.

"What do you mean?"

"He's not going to meet Texarkana Gus," Taine explained.  "He has a date
with your biology teacher."

My eyes widened.  "Ms. Ogretz?"

"Yeah," said Taine.  "He doesn't want me to know he's dating again because
he thinks I'd find it disrespectful to Mom."

"Do you?" I probed gently.

Inwardly, I was thinking, Holy shit!  Sly and Ms. Ogretz!  Boy oh boy,
Mr. Arispe is gonna hit the roof when he finds out!

"No," Taine said.  "He can't be alone forever.  He loves my mother, and he
always will.  But he's starting to move on."

"He still sets the table for her," I pointed out softly.

"He does that for me.  The first day after she died, I came to the table
and looked at the empty place where her plate and glass would be, and I
just couldn't take it.  I ran upstairs and I wouldn't eat dinner for two or
three days, I forget.  But I came downstairs the next day, and there was
her picture over her place at the table, and her plate, silverware... he
even filled her glass.  He's been doing it ever since."

Taine had been almost whispering as he told me this, and I had to strain my
head toward him to hear.  As he finished, he turned to look at me, tears in
his eyes and our faces only inches apart.

He looked into my eyes, his gaze tender, vulnerable, searching for
something in my face, some sign that I understood.

I held my breath, not daring to move, simply returning his tender gaze,
hoping that I could pour every bit of the love I felt for him out of my
eyes so that he would see it too.

He pulled back for a moment, exhaled sharply, then wrapped his arms around
me and kissed me, hard.

Taken by surprise, I almost choked as his soft lips slammed into mine,
pushing them against my teeth.  His right hand held the back of my head,
and I wrapped my arms around his thin body as he pulled me close with all
his strength.

I felt his lips part, then, and parted my own in return.  Our soft pink
tongues met, hungrily exploring, tasting each other's mouths and our
mingled tears which rolled across our lips.

His body was shaking as I ran my hands across his warm back, feeling his
ribs beneath his shirt. Our lips and tongues danced together, a sad but
loving tango of grief and need.

Weeping uncontrollably, he broke the kiss and pulled me closer, hugging me
fiercely as the sobs wracked his slender body, burying his face into my
neck and wailing as if gutted.

I held him tight, tighter, as tight as I could, weeping and wailing along
with him now, something breaking inside my soul and all the pain I had been
holding back flooding out to meet his, embracing and screaming out in
terror, hurt and despair.

We fell back on the sofa, Taine on top of me, clutching each other so
tightly we could barely breathe, our tears flowing together down my neck
until I could feel the warm wetness on the back of my shirt collar beneath
me.

We lay there for a long time, holding each other and letting the wracking
sobs slowly subside and drift away.

Finally, Taine propped himself up on his elbows, pulling his face from my
neck.  Our tear-stained cheeks slid together, hot and wet, as he raised his
head above mine, looking down at me.  Teardrops glistened on his long
eyelashes, and his eyes were an unreadable mixture of pain, compassion and
sadness.

"I think you should go home," he said.  "I'm sorry."

-------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading Chapter 8 & 9.  To be continued...

"You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby," music by Harry Warren, lyrics by
Johnny Mercer, 1938. Performed by Tommy Dorsey & His Clambake Seven
feat. Edythe Wright.  c 1958 by RCA.

You guys keep blowing me away with your kind and supportive e-mails.  I'm
really happy and moved that "Tragedy in the Blood" seems to be hitting many
of you so personally, and it's important to me to hear about it so that I
can continue bringing it to you.  I'm always happy to hear from readers at
DJAkeeba@aol.com

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