Date: Wed, 4 Feb 2009 18:17:29 -0600
From: Terrance MacDonald <t_macd@comcast.net>
Subject: Brandon & Alex 45
This story involves sexual situations between teen boys, so if you
aren't supposed to be looking at things like this wherever you live, or
this makes you squeamish, please leave this story/site now and/or move to a
place where things like this are acceptable. Likewise, if you aren't old
enough to look at filth like this wherever you happen to be, or if you or
are a card-carrying member of the Moral-Minority, shoo, go away. I
certainly can't control whether you do or not, but you have been warned.
As always, I would like to thank my good friends, Mike and Dave for
being my editors and proof-readers on this story, as well as offering some
really helpful assistance along the way. Thanks also go to the Nifty
Archive for hosting this and all the other stories. They do take donations
to defray operating expenses, so please help them out if you can.
All rights are reserved, do not modify or redistribute this text
without my express written consent, or I'll have the old gypsy woman that
lives across the lake from me put a curse on you.
Like the other stories I've written, this is set in a magical land
where there are no STDs, so you won't be reading about condoms being used
except in this disclaimer. This is not meant to imply that I am advocating
the practice of unsafe sex, quite the opposite actually - please take
precautions and protect yourself, there's a lot of shit out there that can
kill you or make you wish you were dead.
Comments and feedback are certainly welcomed at t_macd@comcast.net.
I've really enjoyed hearing from everyone who has written, please keep on
letting me know what you do and don't like.
E-mail me for a complete list (with Nifty Archive links) of my
previous stories should you care to do so.
Brandon and Alex Chapter Forty Five
Michael left Bobby alone in his room, still naked and sitting on
the side of his bed. He walked down the stairs slowly, as if he was
reluctant to leave - and in a way he was. He picked up his shoes from the
front hallway and carried them out to the front porch and sat down in one
of the white, wooden rocking chairs to put them on. Somewhere in the back
of his mind, a sort of intuition told him that Bobby was holding something
back from him. He shook his head, as if to dispel the thought. 'But why
would Bobby be hiding anything?' he thought. He paused in the chair for a
moment after he'd tied his shoes, contemplating that idea before he
dismissed it, stood up and walked down the steps to his car.
When he pulled out of Bobby's driveway, he noticed that there was a
lot of activity a few houses down, where Billy lived. It looked to him as
if there was a construction project starting. That had his attention as he
started to ease off the clutch and pull into the street. A horn blared,
and he quickly stopped the car. A large pickup truck towing a short
trailer passed him and pulled to a stop in front of Billy's house.
Whatever was on the trailer was bulky, and covered with a large, blue
tarpaulin. It was impossible to tell what was underneath, but Michael
assumed it had something to do with the other construction equipment
gathered there. At the side of the house, a crew was taking down a section
of the privacy fence to allow the equipment into the backyard.
He thought briefly about taking the long way home, so he could
drive past Billy's house just to see what was going on, but decided against
it. It was obvious that they were just getting started, so it would be
unlikely that he'd be able to tell what they were doing anyway, plus, he
figured that he'd find out in a day or two anyway. He pulled out of
Bobby's neighborhood, headed toward his own, but was soon driving without
even thinking, it was almost as if the car was on auto-pilot, guiding
itself to a destination unknown to Michael.
- - -
Michael's trance was broken when he felt a hand on his shoulder,
gently shaking him. His car's engine was stopped, the car parked in Abby
Park in the same 'cove' where he first met Bobby. The hand shook his
shoulder once more, and a voice asked "Are you alright? Have you been
taking any drugs or drinking?"
Michael looked over and saw a man in a yellow Polo shirt and khaki
pants standing next to his car. A gold detective's badge was clipped to
his belt. "Have you been taking drugs or drinking?" he repeated.
"No sir, nothing I haven't been doing anything like that," Michael
finally answered. "I was just thinking. I was sort of lost in thought,
that's all..." He started, but caught himself before going too far into
his explanation.
His gaze finally made it up to the face of the man by his car, and
he recognized it. It was the man who he'd had to talk to after Paolo had
put a copy of a video of the two of them having sex on the school's
website. "Oh, sorry Detective Peters," he said. "Really, I was just
sitting here thinking, that's all."
"It's Mike, right?" the policeman asked, trying to be familiar, and
not remembering that Michael preferred to be called by his proper first
name.
"Michael," he answered. "I prefer to be called Michael."
The detective put both hands on the top of the car door, leaning
over to talk to Michael. "So tell me then, Michael, what are you doing
here?"
This repeated question caused him to become defensive, and it was
evident in his tone when he replied, "I told you already. I was just
sitting here thinking. That isn't illegal yet is it?"
Peters stood up straight, folding his arms over his chest and
answered coldly, "No Michael, it isn't illegal. I just wanted to make sure
that nothing was wrong."
"Take my word, nothing's wrong," Michael retorted as he started the
Mustang, giving it far more gas than necessary, revving up the powerful
engine as he pressed in the clutch and shifted into reverse gear. He did
keep the presence of mind not to peel out as he left the cove, thinking
that if there was a police detective there, watching the park, surely there
were other police nearby. And he didn't want to give them a reason to
follow or pull him over.
As he left the park, he realized that he had no recollection of
what was going through his mind before the man had shaken him and brought
him back to reality. His mind blanked again for a moment, and when he came
back out of it, he realized that he was on I-26, headed west at an
extremely high rate of speed. He looked down at the dash, and the
speedometer read 110 MPH. 'I am going way too fast,' he thought, just
before he heard the siren behind him.
Michael glanced up at the mirror only for a moment, afraid to take
his eyes off the road, and wondered how he had ended up here, and at the
rate of speed at which he was traveling. There was not just one, but two
state police cars behind him, red and blue light bars flashing a signal for
him to stop. He knew what he needed to do, but his body wasn't responding
like it was supposed to. He willed his foot to press down on the brake,
but when he did, the car seemed to jump forward on its own.
'Why doesn't it stop?' Michael thought. 'I want the car to stop!
Make it stop!'
His mind didn't control the car though, and his body wasn't
responding either. The car's speed climbed higher and higher. Michael
glanced down at the dash. It read 130 miles per hour and climbing.
Something had to make it stop...
Just before everything went blank in his mind once more, he thought
of Bobby, sitting on the edge of his bed as he'd left his room such a short
time before. Bobby looked so sad. Then there was blackness, and a
blinding white flash of light.
- - -
It was an odd feeling. Everything around Michael was white. It
was not exactly quiet, but he could not identify the noise he was hearing.
Was it music? It sounded good but not like any music he had heard. Then
there was the scent. Like apple blossoms in sunlight. He seemed to be
lying on his back on grass, but it was softer than any grass he had ever
previously encountered.
Paolo knelt above him, but as Michael looked up at him he seemed
different than what he had been. There wasn't the arrogance and
self-centeredness that he'd always known in the boy before. This was the
first time Michael had ever seen Paolo with an expression about him that
seemed caring, concerned about how someone else might feel. He'd heard
that Paolo had stood up for Billy at the end, trying to protect him from
the brothers in their cell at the juvenile detention facility, but that had
seemed so out of character for him. It had been very difficult, nearly
impossible, for Michael to believe. But now here was that same caring
Paolo.
'Where is my car?'
'Where am I?'
'Wait!!! Isn't Paolo dead?'
'Am I dead?'
All these thoughts flooded in at once. There was no sound, but
still somehow Michael could hear Paolo's voice inside his head, even though
his lips never moved to speak, and Michael heard made it seem as if Paolo
had read his mind. "You aren't dead, Michael. You have a long life yet to
live. Go back to the ones who love you, and please forgive me. I wanted
to love you, but I didn't even know how to love myself."
* * *
Bobby was lying on his bed, still naked when Billy came bounding
into his room. Bobby hadn't even pulled the covers back over him, and was
curled up in a semi-fetal position facing away from the door. Billy's
original intention when he came over to Bobby's house was to tell Bobby
about his birthday presents and invite him to the party his parents were
giving him, but when he saw Bobby lying nude on his bed, his idea quickly
changed. Although Billy thought he was asleep when he entered the room and
saw him, this wasn't the case. His idea was to jump on the bed to wake
Bobby up, but since he wasn't really asleep, his planned failed more
horribly than he could have imagined.
In his excitement over his early birthday presents, Billy didn't
ring the bell before entering the house, and since Bobby's bedroom door had
been left open, Bobby didn't hear him approaching. Billy landing on the
bed on his knees behind him was the first indication Bobby had that anyone
else was in the house after Michael had left him, sitting on the edge of
his bed. When Billy landed on his bed, Bobby jumped up and spun around in
surprise. It wasn't intentional, but his quick motion knocked Billy back
off his bed, the wind knocked out of him for a moment.
Realizing what he had done, Bobby was worried that he'd hurt his
friend and quickly knelt over him, checking to see if he was okay. Billy
kept his eyes closed, playing up to Bobby's concern for a few moments until
he caught he breath. Due to his concern about possibly having hurt Billy,
Bobby was oblivious to Billy's play-acting. At least he was until Billy's
hand reached up to grab him right between the legs, a fraction of a second
before he sat up, laughing.
Bobby was relieved that Billy hadn't really been hurt, but a little
pissed that he'd put on an act and scared him, so he gave him a playful
punch on the arm. The arm attached to the hand still holding his balls and
dick. This caused a little movement that had the effect of beginning to
stimulate Bobby toward arousal. The twitch in Bobby's penis, and slight
but noticeable thickening was quite apparent to Bobby, and he giggled
slightly. "You're horny!" he let out as he continued giggling. But he
still didn't release Bobby's genitals.
This did bring Bobby out of the funk that Michael had left him in,
and he fell on Billy, running his hands up underneath his shirt to tickle
him, causing Billy's laughter to continue even more.
Bobby didn't even realize he was doing it, but as he rose up onto
his knees, moving over to straddle Billy, the younger boy kicked off his
shoes and pushed his pants down as far as he could - just about to his
knees. Bobby's tickling had raised his shirt, so the majority of Billy's
body was exposed already, but it was even more so when Billy lifted his
torso slightly in order to pull his t-shirt off. It was this motion that
brought Bobby into awareness that he was still naked, and now Billy was
nearly so as well.
Briefly, the thought of Michael leaving him sitting on the edge of
his bed flashed through his mind. It was only a fleeting thought, as Bobby
lowered himself on top of Billy, pressing their bodies together as he began
to kiss the other boy. Billy responded twofold, he opened his mouth to
accept the kiss and his dick sprang up, becoming hard nearly instantly,
neither of which escaped Bobby's attention.
A few moments later, after Bobby had moved back and quickly yanked
Billy's pants off, they were on the bed together. Certainly this was more
comfortable for them both, but more for Bobby as he was kneeling once again
over Billy. This time however, his dick was completely hard and straining,
and aimed at a specific target - Billy's mouth. Billy wasn't going to
disappoint the older boy either; he opened his mouth, and took the head
inside, swirling his tongue around the tip. He really liked Bobby, and was
eager to please him. He brought his head forward, taking more of Bobby's
shaft into his mouth.
The head of Bobby's dick touched that part of Billy's throat that
controlled his gag reflex just for a moment, and he almost lost it, but he
adjusted the angle of his head and was able to take more of Bobby's cock
into his mouth and throat. Bobby pulled back finally, making Billy feel a
little better. He could deep-throat, the Booth twins had made sure he
learned that, but it was also for that reason that he preferred not to do
it.
Bobby pulled completely back though, all the way out of Billy's
mouth, and moved down, kissing and licking at Billy's chest and stomach
until he reached the straining erection between Billy's legs. He quickly
engulfed it with his mouth, taking all of it in - completely to the base.
His nose rubbed in the few downy, blonde hairs that had sprouted in Billy's
pubic region. Bobby opened his mouth a little farther and was able to suck
Billy's balls into his mouth as well.
This drove the younger boy wild, and he writhed in ecstasy beneath
his older friend. Bobby didn't want him to get off too soon though, so he
backed off, only keeping the tip of Billy's dick in his mouth. He swirled
his tongue around the head and ran it across the slit at the top. Billy
was thrusting his hips up though, wanting more... Wanting to get off,
Bobby decided to go ahead and let him cum, rather than prolonging it.
Bobby dived down once more, taking the entirety of Billy's dick
into his mouth once more. At the same time he moved his hand between
Billy's legs and pressed a finger up into Billy's private little crevice,
quickly reaching the little pucker located there. As soon as Bobby's
finger touched his hole, Billy's hips bucked forward. It was almost a
completely natural motion. Bobby kept going though - with both his mouth
and his finger.
He felt the warm spurts of Billy's juice fire into his throat, and
the little ring of Billy's butt-hole tighten around his finger. Bobby
swallowed quickly, even though Billy's offering didn't nearly fill his
mouth. It had shot so far into his mouth that he barely tasted it at all.
Bobby didn't pull his mouth off until well after he was sure that
Billy was completely spent. His own dick was throbbing and needed relief.
Billy seemed to sense this and spread his legs wide, as if in invitation to
Bobby. Bobby didn't refuse the offering and slid forward, rubbing his dick
into Billy's crack. He didn't go for penetration immediately, but played
with his dick in Billy's crevice just a little at first. After a few
moments, he could resist no longer and adjusted his position so that he
could make his entry.
Billy let out a sigh as Bobby's shaft sank into him. It felt so
wrong, but at the same time it felt so right. Billy was well aware that
Bobby and Michael were boyfriends, but there was something about Bobby that
Billy couldn't explain even to himself. It had started as a good
friendship - and after all, Bobby was the first friend Billy had made after
he'd been released from the juvenile detention facility. Sure, he'd made
other friends, but Bobby had been the first, and that made him more special
somehow. Billy had also finally come to accept his sexuality. Not what
the Booth twins had forced him to do, but now what he wanted to do.
The problem was, he wanted to do it with Bobby. He knew Michael
was going to be leaving for school after their summer break. He'd heard
Bobby and Michael talking about that, although they weren't aware he had.
From what he'd overheard, he knew that Michael thought they should end
their relationship when he went off to school. What he didn't know was why
Michael felt that way. He'd felt bad for Bobby when he'd overheard that
conversation, but he didn't know how to bring it up to either of them, so
he rationalized that what he was doing was just to make Bobby feel better,
and to let Bobby know that he was going to be there for him when Michael
did leave. Of course, getting a relationship started with Bobby now helped
ensure that he would step in to take Michael's place when he did leave.
Bobby started driving his dick into Billy with fervor, and Billy
responded in kind. All the thoughts he'd been having about their
relationship issues, and those of Bobby and Michael dissipated quickly.
They were like two animals in heat, frantically working toward climax. At
the rate they were going, working together in rhythm, it wasn't going to
take very long. It ended up being longer than both thought possible, and
about four minutes later, Bobby had the unmistakable feeling that indicated
his orgasm was imminent. Seconds later his semen splashed out forcefully
into Billy's bowels.
As they pulled apart, Bobby noticed that Billy had dribbled out a
second cum. "You squirted again," he giggled as he pointed to the
watery-white liquid on Billy's stomach, and the little drops still oozing
out from the tip of his dick.
They were in the shower together cleaning up when Billy finally
told Bobby about the party his parents were throwing for his birthday and
invited him to come. "Of course I'll be there!" Bobby told him
enthusiastically, and he meant it. He knew enough of Billy's history to be
aware that this was going to be the first real birthday party the boy had
ever had, and it would really make him feel bad to miss such an important
occasion for his friend. He knew he was going to have to get him an extra
special present. At the same time he wondered if Michael was going to be
invited to the party. The three of them had not actually been together
since the 'affair,' as Bobby thought of it, between he and Billy had
started. Still, Billy had promised to keep their sexual activities just
between the two of them.
After they had dried off and dressed, Billy asked Bobby to come
over and see the presents his new parents had gotten him for his birthday.
Bobby was very curious what the mysterious presents were, but they had
Billy very excited, whatever they were, so Bobby readily agreed to go
across the street to see them. They paused on the porch long enough to sit
down and put on their shoes, and when they got up, Billy grabbed Bobby's
hand and literally pulled him along as they ran down the street to Billy's
house.
They didn't even notice Mr. Jacobson across the street in his front
yard pulling weeds, but he noticed them. "Dirty little faggots," he
muttered to himself as they ran past.
The truck that had delivered the jet-skis was gone by the time they
got there, but the construction work was in full-swing. Bobby assumed that
the construction work was the present Billy had spoken off, but he was only
half right. Billy pulled him in through the front door and shouted for his
dad. "Mom, Dad! I brought Bobby over to see what you got me for my
birthday!" He looked around the house for either of his parents, but they
were nowhere to be seen. "Mom? Dad?" he called out again.
Rosemary came out of the kitchen into the living room where Billy
and Bobby were standing. Billy was still holding Bobby's hand tightly, not
wanting to let go before he'd been able to show his friend his birthday
presents. "I think your father had them put away in the garage," his
mother told them, then watched as Billy pulled his friend away, leading him
toward his coveted birthday treasure.
When Billy got Bobby into the garage, Bobby was astounded at what
he saw. The twin jet-skis were gleaming and beautiful. He was shocked by
the extravagant gift. Not one, but two jet-skis. This was an amazing
present, or presents. "Dad's having a dock with a lift put in on the water
too," Billy told him excitedly.
'Well, that explains the construction,' Bobby thought.
"Damn dude, this is fantastic!" he exclaimed. "I'm so happy for
you!" It was only when he moved to give Billy a hug that Billy finally let
go of his hand. They were still embracing when Billy's dad entered the
garage.
"Your mom told me you brought Bobby out here to see your present,"
he spoke up after a moment. The boys broke apart only once he had made his
presence known. "He's the only one that gets a sneak preview of your
present, right?" Stan added.
"Yeah dad," Billy agreed, "he's gonna be the only one."
He took note of their embrace, chalking it up to the good
friendship that had developed between the boys since Billy had come to live
with them. He looked at Bobby as a good influence on the boy, and was glad
to see they had become such fast friends.
"We're going back over to Bobby's to swim, okay Dad?" Billy asked
his father.
"Sure son, you two go and have a good time," Stan responded. He
thought about asking why they didn't stay and use the pool in their own
yard, since they were already there, but decided it must be the
construction, and was sure they just didn't want to be around that. It was
of course, only half the reason. Billy had hopes of having more of the
sort of fun and games that he dared not tell his parents about.
* * *
Kyle and Joey ate in silence, but exchanged an occasional glance at
one another as they had their breakfast. They both had an uneasy feeling
that Kyle's father was more aware about what they had been doing together
in Kyle's room than he wanted them to know. The way he'd acted and the
things he'd said seemed to hint that he knew a lot more than he was letting
on. Although they didn't talk about it, and neither boy wanted to, they
both had a feeling that they needed to prepare for the inevitable questions
Kyle's father was sure to pose sooner or later.
Kyle suggested that they should go for a ride on their bikes as
they were cleaning up after their breakfast. Joey downed the last of his
glass of milk, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and nodded his
agreement. They went to Kyle's room to put on shoes and socks before going
out to hit the road on their bicycles.
They decided to go to the park since it was such a nice day. There
was a good chance of a pick-up football game or something that they could
get in on or if all else failed, they could just lie out on the grass and
get some sun. As they rode down the sidewalk between Kyle's neighborhood
and the park, an old classic Mustang convertible sped past them. It had
either been kept up very well or beautifully restored. Kyle looked over at
Joey. "That guy is going to kill himself, or someone else," he commented.
Joey grunted his agreement. He was sure that he recognized the
car, but couldn't place where from. They watched as the car slid around a
corner a few blocks down the street, fish-tailing as it made the turn.
Both boys thought the car was going to wipe out, but the driver must have
managed to get the car straightened out as the crash they expected to hear
never came. All they did hear was the powerful engine racing away from
them.
A block farther down the road, Kyle led the way up a bike trail
that was a shortcut into the park. As they rode along the trail, Kyle and
Joey came parallel to cut off from the main paved road that wound through
the park for a few minutes. It was a gravel service road that led to some
of the maintenance buildings where the lawn mowers were kept, and the
offices of the park workers were located. Kyle spotted the police cars
first and pointed them out to Joey. There were four marked cruisers parked
on the road, two officers in each. It was as if they were on a stakeout,
or waiting for some signal. "Wonder what they're sitting back here for,"
Kyle commented.
Joey knew the reputation one area of the large park had as a
cruising spot, and he filled Kyle in. "They're probably doing some sort of
a sting," he told Kyle. Joey had heard a few of the details about Alex's
cousin Paolo getting busted in the park from Brandon and Alex. He only
briefly mentioned Paolo's arrest and the reason for it. He couldn't go
into any great detail though - after all, he didn't really know the entire
story himself. For that matter, Alex and Brandon hadn't known the whole
story either when they were telling him about what had happened.
A couple minutes later, the trail they were riding on dead-ended
into the main paved road that circled through the park. A black Crown
Victoria with deeply tinted windows was parked by itself in one of the
little parking 'coves' that were placed periodically along the park's main
road. Joey caught Kyle's attention and nodded toward the car. With dull
black wheels, wider than usual tires and four antennas sticking up from the
roof and trunk, it was obvious that this was an unmarked police car. "They
might as well have painted 'Police' on the side of that car, as obvious as
it is," Joey commented.
"No shit," Kyle agreed.
They hopped their bikes over the curb, taking a shortcut across the
grass on their way to an area of the park where there was a large, flat
piece of ground that was perfect for playing ball. There were two
make-shift football games already going on when they arrived, and that took
up the majority of the flat ground. The players of both games were
significantly older than Joey and Kyle, one group being mainly in their
mid-twenties, and the other group slightly older, probably early thirties.
They didn't figure either group would want a couple kids trying to join
their game, so they dropped their bikes and just sat down in the grass to
watch.
There were a few other small groups of boys closer to their age on
the outskirts of the field, some watching the games, others just sitting
and talking. A few others still were tossing a football back and forth,
waiting for one of the fields to clear so they could start their own game.
- - -
Kyle and Joey sat back in the grass, propped up on their elbows to
watch the games. They had taken their shirts off in the warm afternoon
sun. It soon became apparent that the game with the thirty-something year
olds was the more boring of the two, so their attention stayed focused on
the younger group of men. At least it did until a particularly bad pass
from the game they'd been ignoring landed on the grass beside them. "Could
you toss it back?" called one of the older men.
Kyle grabbed the ball, and threw it back to the man, almost without
effort. It was a perfect pass, and the man caught it easily. "Thanks!" he
shouted back to Kyle. "That's a good arm you've got!" Joey admired Kyle's
muscular torso when he got up to throw the ball back to the men. Kyle did
not have the physique of a bodybuilder by any means, but he was certainly
well toned. Joey felt a slight twitch in his pants as he watched his
boyfriend's body. His penis had inflated slightly, and he felt it press
gently against the cloth of his boxers. 'Shit,' he thought, 'I better try
to keep that under control out here...'
"Thanks," Kyle called back, waving as he sat back down on the grass
next to Joey. The older group's game only lasted about fifteen more
minutes before they called it quits, said their goodbyes and left the
field.
Even as they were still leaving the field, some of the boys around
Kyle and Joey's age who had been tossing a ball around between them moved
onto the field. Others started joining them, and quickly began choosing up
sides for the game. Joey and Kyle both recognized some of the other boys
from their respective schools and neighborhoods. "Want to see if we can
join them for the game?" Kyle inquired.
Joey smiled at him and nodded his head. They got up and trotted
onto the field, tucking their shirts into their waistbands as they did. As
they approached the little loose-knit groups of teen boys on the field, one
of the boys from Kyle's school waved them over. "I thought that was you
that threw the ball back into the old farts," he said, clasping Kyle's
right hand in his own and placing the left on his shoulder. "You'll
quarterback for us, right?" he asked.
"Sure dude. I have a pretty good receiver with me too," he replied
as he indicated Joey. "He comes with me as a package deal."
"Sure, no problem," the other boy replied. "If you say he's good,
that's all we need to hear."
Unfortunately, Joey was only really a good receiver in bed. He
didn't fare any better at catching the football during their game than he
had the day he and Kyle had met. Of course, he hadn't been meant to catch
the ball that day, but even if he were, he probably would have missed.
Joey never had been very good at any sports. He didn't ever bring this up
with Kyle though, as he was sort of ashamed since Kyle was so good at them.
Even if he'd told Kyle how he felt it wouldn't have mattered to Kyle, as he
really did like Joey just for himself. Their team was defeated soundly in
the game, though the blame hardly fell on Joey's shoulders alone. Even
with Kyle's outstanding skill as quarterback, they were simply outmatched
by the other team.
It was late afternoon when they headed back to Kyle's house. When
they arrived and came in through the kitchen, they were immediately sent
off to wash up for dinner, which Kyle's mother told them was almost ready.
"You'd both better take a shower too," she admonished them as they left the
kitchen, headed upstairs. "You're both all sweaty, and I don't want to eat
dinner with two smelly boys at the table."
Kyle smiled at his mother, grabbed a couple Sunny D's from the
refrigerator for them and said "Not to worry mother dear, we'll be
spring-time fresh next time you see us!"
"Don't you mock me, Kyle Elias Praegler!" she scolded
good-naturedly as she swatted his butt with a dishtowel on his way out of
the kitchen.
"Elias?" Joey kidded him as they went up the stairs. "You never
told me your middle name was 'Elias'."
"It's after my grandfather," Kyle explained, "and you better not
tell anyone."
"Blackmail helps you keep your secrets!" Joey said, reaching
forward to goose Kyle's butt on the way up the final set of stairs to
Kyle's room.
"Keep your hands to yourself," Kyle said, grinning as he turned
around at the top of the stairs. He closed the door behind them and drew
Joey in for a kiss.
There was no sign of his father in the house, but they weren't sure
whether he was there or not, as they hadn't come in through the garage
where he always parked the Expedition. Just to err on the side of caution,
they decided it would be better to shower separately. When they had both
finished their showers and gotten dressed, they made their way back
downstairs for dinner.
It was only now that Kyle finally asked where his father was.
"Your father is at the club still, sweetie," his mother answered.
"He had a late tee time today. He told me that he was going to have
something to eat there, and then play cards with some of the other men. He
probably won't be home until late."
Kyle nodded that he understood, he was used to his father spending
long hours at the club. He didn't like it, but he was used to it. It
sometimes seemed to Kyle that his father preferred spending his time there
rather than with his own family. He'd never become vocal about it, but
instead just got quiet when it began to upset him. Joey took note of this,
and decided that he would say something to Kyle about it later, when they
were alone.
His mother had made a casserole dish for them that evening,
something that had all the meat and vegetables all rolled up into the same
thing. And while it didn't look all that great, both boys agreed that it
was both filling and very tasty. Joey made sure to tell Mrs. Praegler that
he enjoyed the meal, and thanked her for fixing it for them.
When they finished dinner, Kyle motioned for Joey to help him clear
the plates. His mother thanked them for cleaning up after the meal, and
went into the living room to sit down and watch the evening news. After
they had carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen, Kyle rinsed them off
and handed them to Joey to put into the washer. They cleaned up the
cookware Kyle's mother had used to prepare the meal, and loaded that into
the washer as well.
Kyle packed the leftovers into plastic containers, and once they
were deposited in the refrigerator the boys were free to enjoy themselves
for the rest of the evening. They joined Kyle's mother in the living room
where she was watching one of her favorite shows on TV, one that she
referred to as a "Brit-Com" which was shown on the local PBS station every
Saturday night. It was called "Keeping Up Appearances" and was about a
lady who always tried to impress everyone as being very high-class, but
really just made herself very annoying to everyone she knew. Joey had to
admit that it was a very funny program. He and Kyle were sitting next to
each other on a sofa while they watched, and laughed out loud at her
antics, which Kyle explained to Joey always seemed to backfire on her.
When that show was over, Kyle's mother changed the station over to
Fox News. Neither of the boys was interested in that at all, so they
decided to go up to Kyle's room to play some video games before it was time
for bed. While Kyle was rummaging through his game collection, Joey
decided that this was as good a time as any to bring up the troubled look
he'd noticed on Kyle's face when his mother had told them that Mr. Praegler
was staying at the club rather than coming home for dinner.
"Kyle," he started, "I may be speaking out of turn, so if I am,
just tell me to shut up. You looked, I don't know, like really disturbed
when your mom said your dad wasn't coming home for dinner."
"That's alright," Kyle replied. "You're right though. He spends
so much time there, it seems like he doesn't want to be with us. It's like
an excuse for him to be away from us."
Joey didn't know what to say. But he'd brought the subject up, so
he knew he had to say something. "I'm sure it's not that... I'm sure he
loves you a lot."
'That sure sounded lame,' Joey thought as soon as the words left
his lips. Kyle smiled at him though and came over to where Joey was
sitting on the edge of his bed. He bent over and leaned in to give Joey a
kiss. Kyle placed a hand on each side of Joey's face, and Joey wrapped
both arms around Kyle. This caused Kyle to lose his balance and fall over,
landing on top of Joey on the bed. They continued to kiss, getting more
and more passionate about it with each passing second. When they finally
broke apart, and Kyle rolled off to lie next to Joey on the bed, both boys
couldn't help breaking out in a fit of giggles.
"That was awesome!" Joey exclaimed.
"Yeah, it was," Kyle agreed. "So what game do you want to play?"
"This one," Joey said. Then he rolled over on top of Kyle and
pushed his hands under Kyle's shirt to tickle him.
* * *
Doug leaned over to Kelly and whispered, "What do you think he
said?" He was referring to what Jason Farmer had whispered to Melissa, his
older sister when they'd met up on the street in from of Kelly's house.
"I don't know," Kelly whispered back. She sure got a weird look on
her face though, whatever it was."
"I'd say 'shocked' is more like it," Doug answered. And he was
right.
Melissa Farmer had had a crush on Kelly for a long time, and both
sets of parents knew it. They thought it was sort of cute, and joked
privately about the possibility of the two getting married some day. They
thought that Kelly would recognize her interest sooner or later, and
eventually reciprocate, but he was quite oblivious to her affections.
Besides, Kelly didn't feel the same way about her, although they were very
good friends, and had been as long as they had known each other. He also
knew that his friend Riley Jensen had the hots for her.
Now her little brother had just told her that he'd seen the object
of her affections having sex in the pool locker room with the boy on the
bicycle next to him. He obviously hadn't had time to give her any details;
she'd get that information out of him later, when they got home. For now
though, she simply imagined the worst.
Kelly's father had steaks and burgers on the grill already when
they entered the backyard. The smell of the meat cooking made their mouths
water in anticipation. Kelly's father knew someone who owned a farm fifty
or so miles away, and would regularly buy half of a butchered cow from him
to fill a freezer they had in their garage. The quality of the beef he got
was always outstanding, and it seemed particularly promising this evening.
Melissa's mother was the first to notice that her daughter was
suddenly acting differently toward Kelly. She seemed rather cold and
distant toward him, instead of hanging on his every word as she normally
did. She also noticed that Kelly's new friend seemed especially close to
him, and the looks he gave Kelly were very similar to those that her
daughter had given him previously. 'No, surely I'm mistaken about that...'
she thought.
Kelly's mother picked up on the change in attitude too. She was
curious why the girl that had chased after her son for so long abruptly
seemed to be trying to avoid contact with him during their outing. She
managed to pull Kelly aside to ask him about it.
"I didn't do anything that I know of, I haven't even seen her
lately until tonight," was his reply, and he was indeed in the dark about
whatever it was that had her brooding. It had to be what her little
brother had said to her when they'd all arrived at his house that evening,
but Kelly had no idea what that could be.
"Well, maybe you should pull her aside and talk to her about it,"
his mother advised. "You men aren't usually very good about doing that,
and you'll never know what we women are thinking if you won't ask us."
"Thanks mom," Kelly answered. "I'll do that."
"That's good," his mother told him, smiling and ruffling his hair
as she went into the kitchen to check on the corn-on-the-cob for their
dinner.
Somehow the opportunity just didn't seem to present itself for
Kelly to talk to Melissa privately before dinner. She was staying very
close to her little brother and didn't seem to want to leave his side -
something else that was very unusual for both siblings. Kelly dropped a
couple hints that he wanted to talk to her, but didn't say anything
outright. Melissa either didn't get his hints, or she ignored them. He
couldn't tell which.
His mother noticed that he was at least taking her advice and
trying, but she wished he would have just come right out and told the girl
that he wanted to talk with her. He didn't do that, and finally gave up
hinting just as his father was taking the meat off the grill. He decided
to wait until after they'd eaten before trying again.
During the meal, Kelly and Doug stuck close together. "You've been
hard to talk to since we got back from riding our bikes," Doug commented
once they were finally off by themselves.
"Yeah," Kelly replied. "I'm sorry, but my mom thinks I need to try
to find out what's bothering Melissa, but I'll wait until after we eat to
try again. I really didn't mean for it to seem like I was ignoring you."
Doug looked at him and smiled. "That's okay, I understand," Doug
told him. And he did, but he wished it did require him being fairly
excluded from being able to socialize with Kelly, as he really didn't know
anyone else there. Jason, Melissa's little brother had visited with him
briefly, but he couldn't find that much commonality with a nine year old to
inspire conversation. Mostly their conversation had been limited to Jason
asking how long he'd known Kelly, where he went to school, where he and
Kelly had met, and other things like that. It was almost as if he were
being interrogated. He had thought briefly about asking Jason what he'd
told his sister, but didn't work up the nerve. Perhaps after they'd eaten
and Kelly tried to find out from Melissa what the problem was he could try
to strike up another conversation with her brother.
- - -
Melissa and Jason sat with each other as they ate, talking quietly
and sometimes glancing over to where Kelly and Doug were sitting. As soon
as they'd finished and disposed of the paper plates from which they had
consumed their meals, Melissa excused them both from the evening's events,
explaining to the adults that she had to work on a science project, and she
was going to need a second pair of hands, so she had enlisted Jason's
assistance.
"You never mentioned any project you were working on," her father
commented.
"Well, it's not like due any day or anything, I just want to get an
early start, as I know I have some other assignments coming up soon and I
don't want to but stuck working on them at the same time," she replied.
"Come on Jase," she said, turning to her little brother, putting her arm on
his shoulder to lead him out of the backyard.
"Thanks for dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Tucker," she said, smiling to
Kelly's parents as they made their exit. "Everything really was fantastic,
like always."
'Damn,' Kelly thought as he watched them leave. 'There goes my
chance to find out what's going on.'
'Thank God,' Doug thought as he watched them go. 'Now I don't have
to share Kelly with her for the rest of the evening.'
- - -
As soon as they'd reached the street, Melissa spoke to her little
brother in a commanding tone, "Okay little brother, spill it. What exactly
did you see them doing?"
Jason looked around, as if to make sure they weren't being followed
before telling his sister the entire sordid story of what he'd seen Kelly
and the other boy doing in the locker room. It took more than just the
short walk down the street to their house for him to tell the entire story
to her, and every so often she would interrupt with a question. He left
out the part about going into the whirlpool and sauna naked with his two
friends though - he didn't want his sister getting the wrong idea about
that, especially after the story he'd just finished relating to her.
Melissa was slightly relieved to hear that Kelly had not been on
the 'receiving' end of things, still - he had been having sex with another
boy. She wasn't sure she could reconcile that in her mind. Gay sex was
wrong - it said so in the Bible, and she'd been taught that her entire
life. The preacher at the church she and her family attended had often
been very vocal on the subject, and it was certainly one of her core
beliefs as unlike her little brother, she listened to what he was saying.
She would pray about it, she decided.
* * *
Steven's father woke up before either of the boys in the morning.
He didn't intend to stay up, but the pounding in his head was desperately
begging for aspirin. As he passed his son's room, he glanced in through
the open door. Steven and Carson were still propped up against the
headboard, Carson's arm around Steven and Steven's head resting on his
shoulder. Being on top of the covers, Steven's father was able to tell
even in the dim light of the dawn and the fog and throbbing ache plaguing
his head that they were wearing nothing but their boxers. A single thought
flashed briefly through his head as he continued to the kitchen for his
aspirin - 'Better than walking in on them like Janet did, I suppose.'
If his head had been clearer, he might have seen the sweet,
semi-romantic nature the scene presented, but his thoughts were focused
primarily on getting some relief for the pounding in his head. Reaching
the kitchen, he tossed some aspirin in his mouth, and after a moment's
consideration poured a shot of vodka from a bottle on the kitchen counter
into a glass and used it to wash down the medication. 'A little hair of
the dog will help clear my head that much faster,' he thought. While it
did seem to be helpful, all it really did for him was reactivate some of
the residual alcohol left in his system. But for him, this resulted in not
feeling so poorly for the moment.
The alcohol not having really having helped to clear his head so
much as just relieve the throbbing he felt, he neglected to replace the cap
on either the aspirin or the vodka bottle. After he set the glass down on
the counter, he turned and walked back to his bedroom. He didn't even stop
to consider that he was still fully dressed, save for his shoes.
- - -
It was a short time after his father had made his trip to the
kitchen when Steven woke up. He had slept the entire night with his head
on Carson's shoulder, and had a terrible crick in his neck as a result. He
gently eased himself out of bed so he wouldn't disturb Carson and padded
his way quietly down the hall to check on his father. He looked in the
door, which was partially closed now rather than fully open the way they'd
left it after putting him into bed. His father was still snoring, though
not so loudly as just after they'd put him to bed, so Steven knew that he
was still alright.
Having checked on his father, Steven turned and went back the other
way down the hall, heading toward the kitchen. His neck was demanding
attention to relieve the stiffness after the odd position he'd slept in.
Carson was still asleep as he went back by his door, but he'd slid down
onto the bed now, rather than still being propped against the headboard.
He'd rolled over onto his side, and his sliding down across the mattress
had caused his boxers to push up, giving Steven a nearly 'full moon' shot
of his ass in his current position. Steven smiled, thinking how cute the
blonde boy looked lying there like that, in addition to having a couple
impure thoughts about the view he had of his boyfriend's cute little butt.
'Good thing I'm not Catholic,' he thought, 'I'd sure have to go to
confession now.'
Immediately when he walked into the kitchen, Steven spotted the
open aspirin and vodka bottles on the counter where his father had left
them. Rage flooded through him as he realized that his father must have
awakened sometime during the night and washed down some of the medicine
with the alcohol. He grabbed the bottle and tipped it up, emptying its
contents into the sink. Once finished with that one, he emptied all the
other alcohol his father had either in the refrigerator or the liquor
cabinet into the sink. In his fury, he had forgotten all about the pain in
his neck until after he was surveying the fruits of his labor spread out
across the kitchen counter. There were several beer bottles, a couple wine
bottles and six bottles that had contained various types of liquors - all
now emptied into the sink. As he moved his head, looking at the 'damage'
he had done a sharp pain in his neck reminded him why he had come down to
the kitchen to begin with.
Grabbing the bottle of aspirin from the counter, he shook out a
couple tablets, and then poured a glass of water with which to wash them
down. He was about to go back upstairs when Carson came into the kitchen,
still clad only in his boxers and scratching his head. He surveyed the
counter top, looking at all the empty bottles.
"Did someone have a party in here or what?" he asked.
"Not really," Steven answered. "I had a crick in my neck from the
way we fell asleep last night so I came down to get an aspirin. Apparently
my dad got up sometime during the night to get one too, although for a
slightly different reason."
"So what's with all the bottles then?" Carson prodded.
"Well, he left the aspirin bottle open on the counter right next to
the open vodka bottle he used to wash it down," he explained.
"Oh wow," Carson sighed. "That sucks, dude."
"Yeah," Steven agreed. "So anyway, I just sort of lost it and
dumped out all the booze he had in the house."
"Dude, your dad is probably going to be really pissed." When
Carson said this, he thought it was probably going to turn out to be an
understatement. He knew that a couple of the now empty liquor bottles had
been very expensive.
A moment of silence followed. Steven was giving some thought to
the truth in what Carson had just said.
Carson glanced over at the clock on the microwave. Its digital
readout indicated 9:15. "Dude, didn't you say your dad had to go to his
office today?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, he does," Steven answered. "Why?"
"Because it's already after nine, dude. What time does he have to
be there?"
"SHIT!" Steven exclaimed. "You have so got to help me. Get some
coffee going, and see if you can fix something for breakfast. I'm going to
go try to get him up and into the shower."
"Okay," Carson agreed. He was happy to try to help his boyfriend
out. "What do you want me to do with all these bottles?" he asked.
"Just stash them for now," Steven told him. "I'm going to have to
deal with the consequences of that sooner or later, but I think I have a
plan."
Carson just shrugged and turned to make a pot of coffee as Steven
headed back upstairs to wake his father.
Steven got his father up and into the shower, but only with
considerable effort. By the time he was done with that, and his father had
come downstairs, there were bacon and eggs fresh from the griddle waiting
for him on a plate. Carson poured him a cup of coffee, which he tried to
ignore in favor of a glass of juice, but he finally drank it down once it
was nearly cold.
- - -
It was mid afternoon, and Steven and Carson were sitting on the
sofa in Steven's living room. It had been a real chore for them to get
Steven's father off to his office that morning, but they'd finally managed
it. Fortunately, he was just going in to catch up on some project he was
working on, and no one else was going to be around. Steven was sure he
could smell the alcohol seeping out of his father's pores from all the
scotch he'd consumed the night before.
Once they had gotten his father off to the office, they tried to
figure out what to do about the decimated liquor cabinet. Steven had
Carson help him carry all the bottles into the living room, where they set
them on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Carson had asked Steven
what his plan was, but Steven hadn't wanted to say. They had spent most of
the time since Steven's father left them there in silence, Steven staring
at the bottles, and Carson trying desperately to think of something that he
could do to help. They hadn't even showered yet, and were still just in
their boxers.
"So look," Carson spoke up. "You said you thought you had a plan,
why won't you just tell me. Dude, I love you, and I want to help."
"I know," Steven shrugged. "It just seems so stupid now."
"Just tell me," Carson prodded.
"Well, I was just thinking, maybe we could act like we drank it
all..."
"Dude, that would never work," Carson interrupted.
"Yeah, I know," Steven admitted. "I figured that out already,
there's no way we could have drank all that. We'd be fucking dead from
alcohol poisoning."
"We could call some friends over?" Carson suggested, trying against
all hope to make Steven think his idea had some merit.
"No, that won't work. We could never pull that off. Besides, I'm
embarrassed enough that you have to know about how much my dad's been
drinking. I'm not about to make it general knowledge on top of everything
else."
"We could ask my mom to help," Carson suggested. "After all, she
already knows..."
"You mean like one of those intervention things?" Steven asked.
"Yeah, I guess so," Carson replied after a moment of thought.
Carson reached over to an end table and grabbed a cordless phone.
He dialed his house and soon had enlisted her cooperation. She said she
would be on her way over in a few minutes.
When Carson told Steven she had agreed to help, Steven got up and
extended his hand to Carson. "Come on then babe. We'd better grab a
shower before she gets here."
* * *
Marco and Grace Santori had been gone from the MacMillan's house
only about five minutes when Brandon's father decided that it was safe to
bring up the subject he and his wife wanted to talk to the boys about.
First he nodded to her, indicating that he was ready to start, and once he
had, she left momentarily. It was so she could retrieve a bag from a shelf
on their bedroom closet. Once she had excused herself from the group,
Brandon and Alex seemed to think this was their cue to make their departure
as well. However, as they started to get up to leave, Brandon's father
motioned for them to sit back down.
"Don't go anywhere just yet boys, there's something we need to talk
about," he told them as he waved them back into their seats.
Brandon and Alex exchanged glances, not sure what was going on.
They agreed on one thing, though silently communicating only with their
eyes, as they often did. Mr. MacMillan's tone had sounded ominous to them
both.
"What's up Dad?" Brandon finally spoke after a moment of silence.
"Wait until your mother gets back," he answered. "She's the one
who was the most upset by what she found, so I'm going to let her start.
Don't think for a minute that I wasn't upset by it myself though."
Once more, the boys exchanged glances. They were far more nervous
now, and they both knew they were in some sort of real trouble. They kept
glancing back and forth between each other and Brandon's father, who sat
across from them on the sofa, looking back at them both with a perfect
poker face.
Finally Brandon's mother returned. She was carrying a paper bag,
but that didn't give either of them any hint what it was that they might
have done. Once she had taken a seat next to Brandon's father, directly
across from the chairs where the boys were seated, she gave them both a
look - it was one of those 'mother' looks. It was the sort of look that
instantly instills guilt or fear, and makes you feel bad. But she didn't
speak - she just looked at them.
Brandon finally spoke, breaking the silence. "Okay Mom, we give
up. What did we do?"
It was only now that her expression changed to one that showed that
she was deeply troubled by something. Gradually she regained her
composure, and once she finally had, she answered. "Well boys, I was
cleaning the house, and I found something. I have to tell you I was really
shocked when I found these things."
Neither Brandon nor Alex could still figure out what she was
referring to, and once more they exchanged glances, trying to somehow tap
into each other's mind in an attempt to divine the answer. Nothing came to
them still.
Finally Alex spoke. "Um, I'm sorry if whatever we did bothered
you, but, um, can we ask what was it, please, Mrs. MacMillan?"
Silently, she opened the bag and reached inside. As she pulled her
hand back out of it, the first thing that came into view was some thin,
cotton cloth. There was obviously something inside though. Even before
they were able to tell what was inside, they both recognized the pattern of
Brandon's boxers that they hadn't been able to find after that last
sleepover.
Brandon's mother loosened her grip, letting the object inside fall
from the cloth she was using to hold it and onto the table. The sound of
hard plastic balls bouncing as they hit the glass tabletop was the only
noise in the house. When Brandon and Alex saw what she had been holding
inside the cloth, both their mouths dropped open.
'Oh my god!!!' they both thought at exactly the same moment, 'The
beads!'
It dawned on them only now that they hadn't been there when they
had packed up Paolo's toys into the backpack. Neither boy could believe
something like that had escaped their notice. Now Brandon's mother had
found them. Both boys flushed deep red in embarrassment.
Brad MacMillan had to stifle a grin when he saw the boys' reaction.
He had to try to outwardly remain properly horrified to support his wife,
even though they both knew the boys were sexually active, this development
had her pretty disturbed.
"Where exactly did this come from?" Patricia MacMillan asked. She
was concerned that the boys may have met up with someone older, and
possibly even done 'things' with him - or worse, them. "Have you two been
doing any, um, messing around with someone older?"
"No Mom! Honest, we haven't done anything like that!" Brandon
exclaimed.
"Then where did this come from?" she asked. "You two aren't old
enough to go into a store that sells something like this. Or did you find
some place that would sell trash like this to minors?"
"No, Mom. It's nothing like that. Really," Brandon answered. It
wasn't the response she was looking for though. She wanted an immediate
explanation, and in her mind he was just trying to stall, which in fact he
was.
Alex finally spoke up. "They were my cousin Paolo's," he said. "I
found a bag of his, uh, his stuff after he got killed."
"And you just thought it would be a good idea to keep it?"
Brandon's father finally weighed in.
"Yeah, I guess - you know how my family feels about this kind of
stuff and I just didn't want..." Alex started, but Brandon's father cut him
off.
"That's exactly why I would have thought you wouldn't have kept
it," Brad MacMillan scolded his son's boyfriend. "Can you imagine what
sort of trouble you'd be in for if you got caught with this?"
"But my cousin's reputation..." Alex tried to argue, only to have
Brad cut him off again.
"Was already ruined, and since he'd passed on, there wasn't any
more damage that could have been done anyway. Now was there?"
Alex hung his head for a moment. "I guess not," he admitted
meekly.
It was Brandon's mother's turn again - "Do you have any more of
these... things?" she asked.
"Yes ma'am," Alex told her. "They're in Paolo's backpack at the
back of my closet under a bunch of other stuff."
"Well I think you'd better get them and bring them over here for us
to get rid of for you," Brandon's father told him, and Alex, used to doing
what he was told, when he was told to do it, got up and started across the
room toward the front door.
"Not now," Brad stopped him, "tomorrow."
The conversation had gone better and far more quickly than either
Brad or Patricia MacMillan had hoped for. For the boys it had seemed to go
on forever, but now they were given a reprieve as Brandon's father sent
them off to bed with the admonition not to get into any mischief. The boys
gladly nodded their agreement and made their way to Brandon's room to get
ready for bed.
Their interpretation of 'not getting into mischief' did not mean
that they could not or should not sleep in the nude though, so they climbed
into bed naked and snuggled up together for the night. Brandon lay behind
Alex, with his arms wrapped around his boyfriend. He lifted his head for a
moment so he could give Alex a gentle kiss on the cheek before wishing him
good night.
* * *
Michael's eyes opened. He was in a bright white room, and wondered
if this was a continuation of the dream, or whatever it was that had
happened. All he remembered was getting into his car at Bobby's house, a
blinding flash of light, and then Paolo. 'How could I have seen Paolo
though? He's been dead for months...' Michael thought.
"Doctor, he's waking up," he heard a voice say.
Michael couldn't tell where he was, but he knew there were people
in the room with him from the voices and the blurred images he could see
moving around. He tried to move his head, but he couldn't. There seemed
to be something holding it in place. He tried to move his arms and legs,
and they all seemed to work. His vision was fuzzy and blurred, but he
sensed movement, and then a bright light moving back and forth from one eye
to the other. A new voice asked him if he was able to see the light.
He was able to, and tried to answer but wasn't able at first. His
mouth was dry and it seemed as if his tongue was swollen. Finally after a
few attempts he managed to make it clear that he needed some water.
Another image came up next to him, and then there was a straw nudging at
his lips. He sipped at the straw, and drew cool water into his mouth.
Finally able to speak, he gasped out "I can't see. Why can't I see?"
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and a man's voice answered.
"You've been in a bad accident, Michael. Just try to lie still. My name
is Dr. Bloomfield, and we're doing everything we can for you. Tell me, can
you see anything at all?"
"Sort of," Michael answered, "there are images and shapes, but
everything is all blurred and I can't really make anything out.
"Concentrate on the light, Michael," the doctor advised. "Try to
follow it with your eyes."
Michael did as he was told, and the doctor made a few 'mm hmm'
noises that sounded to Michael as if he was satisfied with what he was
seeing. Finally he spoke again. "Michael, I think you're going to be
alright, but I really need to have some more tests run, and we'll probably
have to have a specialist look at you. Your parents are waiting to see you
though, so I'm going to let them know you're okay, and then I'll send them
back to see you."
"Thanks," was all Michael was able to say. He was scared. He was
starting to remember more brief flashes of things that had happened after
he left Bobby's house, but they were just quick images that passed before
his mind. There was Detective Peters in the park, his car sliding around a
corner, driving down the interstate, and finally the light. Then there was
Paolo. Paolo had been saying something to him, but he couldn't remember
now what it was.
- - -
New images moved up on each side of him. Michael's vision was
clearing slightly, and it seemed as if these new forms that had stepped up
beside him were developing into his parents. His mother and father each
clasped one of his hands in both of their own. Michael's hearing was
working overtime, and he could hear his mother, sobbing gently. Had he
been able to see clearly, he would have noticed a tear running down each of
his father's cheeks.
His mother spoke first. "Michael, we're here for you, and you're
going to be alright."
He felt his father squeeze his hand. He didn't have any trouble at
all recognizing his father's grip, and even though his father didn't speak
at first, it was comforting to Michael to know that he was there, holding
his hand.
"Don't worry, son," his father finally spoke. "We aren't going to
let anything happen to you. You'll be okay, I promise."
It took a conscious effort, but Michael managed to smile, much to
the relief of both of his parents. Gradually his vision cleared, and he
was finally able to make out his surroundings. He knew he was in a
hospital; he'd been able to figure that much out already. Now he was able
to see that he was in a large room, partitioned off with curtains. He
could hear other people nearby moaning, doctors and nurses talking
excitedly, and the humming and beeping of medical equipment.
Once everything had finally come into focus, Michael spoke to his
parents. "What happened? Where am I?"
"You were in an accident, dear," his mother answered. "You're
going to be alright though, that's all that matters. Just rest for now,
that's what the doctor said will be best for you."
One of the last images in his mind was Bobby, but the specifics of
what they were doing and where wasn't clear to him. Suddenly he panicked;
worried that Bobby may have been hurt too. He heard one of the machines
close to him start to beep furiously as his heart rate increased, but still
he asked, "Bobby? Where is Bobby? Is Bobby okay?"
"Bobby wasn't with you, son," his father answered. "Don't worry,
Bobby is fine."
"Where is he?" Michael asked. He needed to see him, to hear his
voice, to be sure that he was in fact okay.
"We don't know where he is, sweetheart," his mother answered. "You
were alone in the car when the accident happened."
"My car? What happened to my car?" Michael asked.
"Don't worry about the car son," his father replied. "All that's
important is that you weren't hurt too badly in the accident. Cars can
easily be replaced, but you can't."
"I need to see Bobby," Michael insisted.
The machine next to him continued to beep furiously, letting the
medical staff know about his elevated heart rate. A nurse pulled one of
the curtains aside. "I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs. Price," she said. "I'm afraid
we're going to need you to step out now. The doctor is concerned that he's
getting too excited right now."
Michael's mother leaned over to kiss him on the forehead, and his
father squeezed his hand reassuringly. Then they both turned and stepped
out. Just before his father drew the privacy curtain closed, he turned
back and said, "Don't worry son, we're right outside, and we aren't going
anywhere."
Michael's last words to his father were "Bobby, I have to see him.
Please."
- - -
"Maybe I should call Bobby," Michelle Price suggested to her
husband as they stood together in the waiting room. "Michael seemed so
upset."
"You're probably right dear," James replied. "Besides, I think
he'd want to know what's happening."
Michelle had Michael's cell phone, as well as the rest of his
personal effects, so she used the speed dial on it to call Bobby since she
didn't know his phone number.
"Hey sweetie!" he answered, thinking it was Michael when he saw the
caller ID.
"Well, thank you Bobby, but this is Michael's mother," she
responded.
Bobby was surprised that Michael's mother would be calling from his
cell phone, but the reason became clear a moment later. "Michael has been
in an accident. He's going to be alright, but he's still in the emergency
room. He's asking for you Bobby; he says he needs to see you."
* * *
Comments and feedback are welcomed at t_macd@comcast.net (I will
answer all e-mails sent to me, but please realize that my job requires me
to travel a great deal, so it might take a while sometimes), flamers will
be ignored by me, but will meet with an untimely and horrible demise as the
result of the curse of the old gypsy woman who lives across the lake from
me, and has inexplicably taken a liking to me. Anger her at your own risk.
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