Date: Thu, 16 Sep 1999 08:26:47 PDT
From: J.O. Dickingson <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Run Baby Run" (t/t, true)

			       Run Baby Run

(A true story of pain, fear and anger, and the deep love of two Finnish
teenagers.)

     Run Baby Run.  The title of the book pounded in my head as my feet
pounded down the slippery trail like a smith's hammer.  Run Baby Run.
Right left right.  Run Baby Run.  I don't know why I thought of the title
of David Wilkerson's book as I ran through the forest.  Strange thoughts
come into one's mind during times of distress.  Although it was night, I
was sweating.  I had the coppery taste of blood in my mouth, my lungs
fizzed and hissed like a smith's blower, and my sneakers slid now and then
as I raced headlong down the forest trail.  Still five kilometres. . . .
     When I had returned home about 10:30 that evening, I could not have
anticipated what was waiting for me, an event that would totally change my
life, an event that lead to a series of events, both pleasurable and
painful, that I will never forget.  As usual, I put my moped in the shed
and locked the door although here deep in the deepest of Finnish country
nobody would find my Honda Monkey, even if I would leave it in the middle
of our yard.  Heading for the door, I figured soon I would get myself a
little snack, then shower, and then have a joyful jerk in bed.  I had spent
the entire evening with my boyfriend, Antti.  We were on the beach but had
not gone for a swim.  It was August, about one week before school would
start again, and the water was already a little too cool.  So we had talked
and cuddled a little behind the bushes, but this time we had done nothing
more.  It was August 1998.  Antti had turned sixteen, and I was still
fifteen.
     The door slammed behind me and I shouted the usual, "Hi, I'm back,"
but nobody answered.  I wondered about that a little because usually either
Mom or Dad would say something, like "Hey, you're late," or "There's
coffee," or something like that.  That night there was total silence.  I
stepped into the kitchen.  Dad was there.  He had his belt in his hand.
     When the first strike of that belt hit me, I couldn't understand what
was going on.  Dad's face showed an anger such as which I had seen only a
few times before.  One had been when I had let the neighbour's cows onto
the local road a couple of years ago, and another had been when Dad had
given me a bill of a hundred Finn Mark to pay his bill in the hardware
shop, and I had changed it in the bank to a thousand pieces of ten penni
coins first.  Now, however, I didn't know the reason for his anger.  I just
knew something had gone wrong.  Terribly wrong.
     "You fucking bastard . . .  you're like an adder . . .  a bloody
faggot!"  The words were screamed between blows, the words as sharp and
painful as the leather belt.  "I will beat the gay thoughts out of you!" he
yelled at me and while I tried to protect my head from the belt buckle I
glanced up at him.  His face was red, like a ripe tomato.  Whiz . . .  snap
. . .  whiz . . .  snap.  I began to feel the pain.  Whiz . . .  snap.  I
was being struck mainly on my back but a few blows were to my head, legs
and arms.  In his fury Dad was lashing out, probably not even aware where
the belt was striking me, certainly not caring.  My jeans were thick and
helped protect my legs, but my T-shirt was thin and gave no protection.
Whiz . . .  snap . . .  whiz . . .  snap.
     "So here under my roof you have faggot pictures to look at!" he
continued to screech.  Whiz . . .  snap.  "Well no more!"  Whiz . . .
snap!  "If I could have your gay bastard friends in front of me, I would
make jam of them!"
     Then it hit me like a bolt of lightning.  Oh shit!  I had not put any
password protection on the computer.  Dad had scanned the hard drive and
found the 150 Mb of gay stuff that I'd collected.  Oh man, I was in
trouble.
     There was no end to the blows.  Whiz . . .  snap . . .  whiz . . .
snap . . .  over and over!  By then I was on my hunkers with my hands over
my head.  As I looked down, tears beginning to well up in my eyes, I saw
drops of blood on the kitchen floor, my blood.  Whiz . . .  snap . . .
whiz . . .  snap!  Dad was towering above me, mad with rage.  'I must find
a way to get out of here or my fuckin ol' man is going to kill me!' my
scrambled brain thought.
     Suddenly I leaped up and pushed him.  Surprised, he fell backward,
landing on the old newspaper pile and knocking his head against the stove.
That was my moment!  I ran out, thinking at first I could take my moped but
quickly realizing that it would take too much time.  It would not take Dad
long to recover and he would catch me again.  I could not let that happen.
     I glanced around the yard desperately.  There was not even a bicycle I
could take.  I headed for the path in the forest and began to run.  I had
no sooner disappeared out of sight of the house than I head Dad's yell from
the steps.  I ran as hard as I could.  He could not have a clue which
direction I had gone.  As I raced down the path, the furious curses and
insults gradually faded behind me. . . .
     I am a bit of a body builder and I have always liked to run.  Lately I
have been running four to eight kilometres, anywhere from one to three
times a week, trying to adjust my pace so I could run the entire distance.
At that moment, racing through the forest, I had no such thoughts of
pacing.  My only thought was to put as much distance between me and my home
as possible.  There was no choice about conserving my energy.  Run baby
run!
     When the village lights appeared in front of my eyes, it was almost
full darkness. Because I live close to Outokumpu five hundred kilometres
south of the polar circle, midsummer nights are very light but by the
beginning of August midnight is quite dark, especially with cloudy weather
as it was that night.  The light of street lamps shone on the moist asphalt
and a few people were walking in the still, warm night.  A group of noisy
people stepped out of a restaurant, laughing merrily, stomachs and minds
content after a joyous evening.  I detoured, passing them on the far side
of the street.
     Antti lived on the second floor of a small apartment house.  As I made
my way there, I wondered how I was going to be able to contact him.  I
could of course try to call by phone but Antti's parents would surely not
be happy to get a call that late in the night.  The staircase door would
surely be locked already.  But I had to talk with him.  As I hurried down
the street, I thought.  There was one chance.
     Finally I arrived in the back yard of the condominium.  There were
still lights in some of the windows but Antti's window was dark already.
That was good, because it indicated that there would not be anyone else
around.  I picked up a little stone about the size of my fingertip and
threw it against the window.  Knack!  The sound was like thunder, sure to
wake up the entire village.  Nothing happened.  I picked up another.
Knack.  Again there was no response.  I picked up a third and was about to
throw it when I saw the curtain move and a familiar shape appeared in the
window.  Antti opened the ventilation window and peered out.
     "What the hell . . .  oh man, Jussi.  Shit, are you doing here?"
     "Antti I am in troubles, can you come down for a while?" I whispered.
     "Sure, wait a sec, I dress and come there."
     It was only a couple of minutes but it seemed an hour before I heard
the staircase door open and in seconds Antti was standing in front of me.
He looked at me in astonishment, at first too surprised to say anything,
and then he exploded.
     "Shit!  What has happened?  Have you been hit by a steam roller or
what?  Shit, Jussi, you're bleeding all over!"
     "It seemed like a steam roller.  Fuckin dad. . . .  I can't go home
now.  Do you have any place to hide me?"
     Antti thought some seconds and then he snapped his fingers.  "My tent
of course.  Nobody can find you there.  And we have heating and all the
stuff we will need there.  The only thing more would be a felt and a pillow
and something for your wounds.  We already have a mattress there.  Wait a
sec.  I'll go up again and try to find out something.  Shit, I hope I don't
wake up Dad and Mom."
     I have never ceased to admire Antti's ability to quickly grasp a
situation.  He got the right impression of the whole situation in only a
few seconds and then he was full of action.  But then he had something
which I do not, he was street smart and experienced in getting along even
in the worst conditions and situations.
     When he came back down, he had an old felt, a pillow and a plastic
bag.  He handed the bag to me, telling me it was food and something to
clean my wounds.
     While we walked the two-kilometre distance to his tent, which was
located in a sheltered dell and held fond memories for both of us, I told
him what had happened at home.  Antti listened and concentrated and when I
was done, we paused there in the forest and he looked at me straight in the
face as he spoke.
     "Jussi, you can't go home now.  Absolutely not.  But your dad hasn't a
clue where you might be and tomorrow I will try to hear what is going on.
And you can be sure we will find out something!  For now we let him cool
down a little, and then we will give him something to think about."
     As we continued walking, I knew that Antti had some idea what we might
do.  However, I knew him well enough to let him develop the idea in his
head.  I knew he would surely talk later about it.  So, I left it in his
hands.
     Arriving at the tent, Antti lighted the heater and then tended to my
wounds, cleaning and disinfecting them with Peroxene.  The worst ones were
on my back, but I did receive more than a few serious cuts on my head and
arms too.  The peroxide smarted and I gritted my teeth as Antti wiped at
the deeper cuts.
     "How can anyone do this to their own son?" Antti said coldly.  "Vittu,
your dad is a monster.  You will one day have to teach him how to behave.
Saatana, he should be sent to jail for beating a fifteen-year-old kid."
Antti always was terribly proud to be six months old than I.
     "Maybe, but I could not do that," I replied.  "That shithead is still
my dad.  He can't tolerate anyone who is gay, and I don't think there is
anything that could ever change that.  I have to admit while I was running
here I thought about going to the police and showing myself though.  What
do you think they would have said?"
     "What do you think yourself?" Antti asked. "I'm sure they would have
sent a beep-beep- car and your dad would be sitting in jail right now."
Antti thought for a moment before speaking again.  "And as sure as my name
is Antti, I'll make him pay for this."
     By then a lovely heat had spread out of the little heater and the
light of the petroleum lamp made dark shadows on the tent walls.  Still
holding the cotton ball soaked in disinfectant, Antti looked at me closely,
inspecting me.
     "Well, I would not send you to a beauty contest, but you look better
now anyway," he said with a smile, and that simple comment made me feel
warmer than any petroleum heater.  "I think I must go home or I get in
trouble," he said sadly.  "I haven't agreed with Dad to overnight here
tonight, and he would get suspicious."
     "I would not cause trouble for you," I said to him, preparing to get
up.  "Maybe it would have been better to go to the cops."
     Antti looked tenderly at me and said, "tough guys don't say usually
things like this, but remember, Jussi, you're more than a brother to me,
and I'm glad if I can help you.  Shit, what are friends for if they
disappear when you need them?"
     I was glad when Antti turned to the tent flap and disappeared quickly
because I had gotten tears in my eyes.  It took a long time before I fell
asleep. All what had happened messed around in my mind.  The beating, the
mad running through the forest, Antti's job to clean my wounds, it all
became a wild, unreal nightmare. I finally drifted off but I woke up
several times during the night.  Some times it was to the sound of Dad
yelling, but when I sat up and listened I heard only the quiet fizz of the
petroleum heater.
     Someone shook my shoulder and I sat up with a start. Antti's face was
in front of mine and I became aware of the delicious aroma of coffee.
Antti had come in without waking me up until the simple but welcome
breakfast was ready.  The menu for the morning was coffee, bread and a
little sausage.
     "I'm sorry but I could not take much from our frigidaire," Antti
apologized.  "Mom would have wondered about my appetite, so I thought when
I go to the village I will buy something for lunch and dinner. And at the
same time, I will find out what is going on in your home."
     "How can you do it?" I asked fearfully.
     "Don't worry about it," Antti replied without a care.  "When I call
your dad, I will find out something.  You know I don't sit with my finger
in my mouth when there is action needed."
     Really.  What Antti said was a hundred percent true. He was one of the
most astute guys whom I have ever known.  Even though he had some inbuilt
inclination to always get in trouble, he always succeeded to somehow escape
unscathed.  His talent for survival was abnormal, but he never made a big
deal out of it.
     We sat silently awhile and smoked some of Antti's Marlboro Reds and I
began feeling better and better all the time.  Finally Antti rose up from
the mattress where he had lay, and announced, "I go now.  Stay in the tent.
Anyway don't go far away.  I will come back surely in one or two hours.  If
someone comes here I don't believe it will happen you can say you are
celebrating your holiday here. But I think it is better you don't show
yourself in the village.  Bye."
     So he was away again.  While I waited for him to come back I took one
of the old porn magazines and glanced though it. That would normally hold
my attention with no problem, but this time, even though I tried to
concentrate, it was in vain. I was too excited to hear what Antti might
find out about Dad.  While I glanced at the magazine, I became more and
more sleepy.  My fitful sleep that morning and the stress I'd been through
was catching up to me.  The next thing I knew I was suddenly being awoken
again with a shake of my shoulder.
     "Man do you know what?" Antti asked excitedly.
     "Well, I hope Dad has eaten soap and split in two," I said bitterly, a
common expression of dislike among us teens.
     "No, something better!  I called him and pretended to be Kari and
asked if you and I could go swimming.  So your dad asked if I have seen
you.  I said no, and he said you had run away last night and that he had
called the cops to bring you home!"
     "Oh no!" I yelled desperately.  "Shit, now they will put me in the
cage!"
     "No man," replied Antti, trying to calm me.  "You haven't done
anything wrong.  Shit, at the most maybe you have occasionally let your
moped go a little too fast, but nothing more. What could they accuse you
of?  If someone is a criminal, it is me."
     "Umm, you're surely right.  But what can we do now?"
     "Do?  I think it is better to leave your dad to boil in his own broth
for a while.  Better he moans alone for a bit."
     So we decided to wait. Antti went two times again somewhere to fetch
more things for us.  Probably he pinched some things in the supermarket
because although Antti had a summer job, he had hardly any money.  It
seemed to leave his pocket as fast as it came.  Anyway, that day we lunched
on potato chips, Coke and sandwiches.  We chatted and read the magazines
and the few books which we had brought there earlier in the summer.  I
tried again to start the book "The Last of the Mohicans" but I knew the
story already.  Antti had lighted up the petroleum heater because the
evenings weren't very warm anymore and we both liked to wear as few clothes
as possible.  The evening was starting to become boring.
     Finally, looking up from the porn magazine he was reading, Antti said,
"hey Jussi, I think I should check your wounds and maybe clean them again.
I have heard they can easily inflame in the summer, especially in dog days
like we are having now.  Turn your back to me."
      I rose, and letting the book fall on the mattress, I pulled my
T-shirt over my head, and removed my briefs so he could check the wounds on
my buttocks too.  Antti cleaned his hands, and at first he was a little
pompous, like a doctor that had just graduated. "Mmm, let's see . . . ," he
mumbled, and I felt his fingers touching my back here and there.  Gradually
his hand went closer and closer to my buttocks.  "I think you must be
careful with the wounds down here," he advised seriously.  "Germs can breed
easily under your briefs, and I don't think it is good for them to get
sweaty.  Everything looks good but you must surely give your cuts air
baths."
     I was still on my hunkers as Antti greased my wounds once again with
Perusvoide, an antibacterial salve more commonly used for diaper rash.  It
was great to feel his fingers glancing over my back, and it was an even
greater feeling inside, a warm feeling that comes from being cared for.  My
best friend was worrying about me and doing all that was in his ability to
help me.  Antti cut big pieces of plaster and attached them on the biggest
wounds.  Suddenly I felt something touch my nuts.
     "Hey, there aren't any wounds . . . ," I began but quickly silenced my
tongue.  I was still enjoying the memory of the great feelings of his
fingers on my back, and now his fingers were continuing with something even
more pleasant.
     Antti continued to caress my nuts very tenderly, and then he said very
seriously, "Jussi, I must check if there is any damage . . .  though I
think there is not . . .  but mmm . . .  why are they rising up like this?"
His fingers continued to stroke my nuts a little longer before he
announced, "well, it seems your organs work pretty good.  Turn yourself a
little."
     When I stood up, my tail was already semi-hard, and without a blush,
Antti took it in his hand while he caressed my nuts with the other.
Glancing down at him, I could see his small black tangas were bulging a lot
more than they normally should.  I mentioned the fact to him.
     "Well," he admitted, "I started to feel horny while I was tending to
you.  Well, I don't know if you are able. . . ."  His voice trailed off,
bothered by his thoughts, not wanting to imposed on me.
     I got to my feet and we stood there in the middle of the tent.  It was
silent except for the quiet fizz of the heater.  Antti's hands hung loosely
at his sides as I reached out and hugged him.  Tears began to form in my
eyes.  I caressed his neck, his back and his arms and slowly he began to
caress me too.  I felt his stomach against my own and his lips against my
neck.  I noticed how his earring scratched my ear.  I sobbed quietly,
"Antti . . .  I love you. . . ."
     I know that expression is one of the most worn-out in the world, but
in some situations those three words have a meaning which no others can
convey.  Thinking that moment about this friend, who in his love for me was
ready to do everything, and I mean everything, without requiring anything
in return, my heart was so full it would burst.  But at that moment,
somehow I also anticipated what Antti was thinking.  He suspected that I
would feel it necessary to pay him for all the care which he had shown to
me, that I would be forced to do whatever he wanted because of the care he
had shown me.  No way!  Never!  What I would do, I would do on my own
volition, because I wanted to, not because I felt I owed him, but because I
loved him.  I pressed him more and more to me and I began to slowly slip my
right hand in his briefs.  He arched his back to make a little distance
between our bodies but he did nothing more.  He still only hugged me.  I
had by then his cock in my hand and it began to get a little hard, but
unlike most times we had sex, Antti was still passive.  I had it right: he
would have me show him what I really wanted.  He would not take advantage
of the situation and force me to do something I did not want to do because
I felt obligated.  That was Antti's way.
     "Come along," I whispered to him.  "We belong together.  Don't stand
there like a wooden idol."  I jabbed him in the stomach with my elbow
jestingly.  "Hey move.  I'm waiting for you."  With that Antti came alive
again.  His eyes began to gleam, and as if we had received a silent
command, we began to play with each other as we had so many times before in
that tent and elsewhere when we had the chance to be alone.
     This time, however, I took the initiative.  As Antti lay on his back
on the mattress, I snuggled up beside him and nibbled first on his ear, and
then on his neck.  He lay back and enjoyed my attentions as I licked his
neck, and my tongue made a trail down to first one and then the other
nipple.  Antti's chest was smooth and muscular, and at sixteen still had
not begun to develop hair.  I licked and kissed and sucked on one nipple.
Antti could not hide his arousal as the tiny pink bud became firm, and the
assault of my tongue caused him to quiver and to inhale sharply.  By the
time I began on his second nipple, it was already hard and sensitive.  I
dallied there teasingly, knowing that Antti had a quick fuse and little
patience once he was aroused, but I did not want to cause my mate too much
distress.
     So I went on, down the middle of his chest to his flat stomach, and he
squirmed and could not hold back his laughter as my tongue tickled his
belly button.  I could not help but notice in my position that Antti had by
this time become fully erect, and although I was sorely tempted to go
directly then to that pole and pleasure him, I instead bypassed it and
tenderly kissed his thighs.  He squirmed and wiggled, and his tail wagged
its excitement so that I could not keep him in his misery any longer.
Laying there on the floor of the tent beside the best friend anyone could
ever ask for, our bodies casting shadows on the canvas in the dim light of
the kerosene lamp, I at last opened my mouth and took the head of my
beloved's cock between my lips.
     His sigh of pleasure was like a gust in the silence of the night, and
the evidence of his pleasure made me all the more determined to make this
time the best time of them all.  Taking his knob in my mouth, I paused and
sucked gently, trying not to irritate the sensitive ridge.  My saliva
flowed over his cockhead and began to rise about it, and I savoured the
unique taste of that special appendage, that centre of consciousness for so
many boys our age.  I swallowed at last that specially flavoured saliva,
and began to work my lips up and down his shaft.  I know that for those who
are not gay such an act is invoked as an insult, but for us, it was an
expression of our love, a sharing of an immense pleasure that only boys can
know.
     It was not long before Antti could hold back no longer, and with a
whimper of delight and a warning, he erupted like a volcano, filling my
mouth with his hot, unique lava.  He came violently and copiously, and I
accepted his gift with as much eagerness and pleasure as it was given.
     And then it was his turn, and just as I had done, he began slowly,
enjoying my body with his lips and his tongue like I had enjoyed his.
There is, however, one difference between us, that being that I have far
more patience than Antti.  I could lay for hours and just enjoy the
pleasure that his skilful mouth and hands can bring.  To me, the
stimulation of my nipples until they are erect and burning, and the thrills
of pleasure that a soft pair of lips can send cascading through my thighs
are as enjoyable as reaching an orgasm, and to lie there and allow the
tension and suspense to build is as enjoyable as that final explosion
between one's loins.
     And so Antti played with me, teasing my nipples and loins with first
his hands, and then his lips, and finally his tongue, until finally he
looked up at me, concerned that perhaps my wounds were preventing me from
experiencing the same joy as I had given him.  As my lips slowly curled, he
realized that I had been enjoying his love making all along, and he
chuckled and cursed me lovingly, and we wrestled, gently that night of
course, and laughed with the pure joy of being alive and in each other's
company.
     Then, as I had done to him, Antti went down on me.  I could hold back
and enjoy our foreplay for almost any length of time, but I don't know
anyone who has the willpower to resist giving in to the pleasure of having
one's lover slip his lips over one's joystick.  It was not the warmth and
moistness of his mouth, nor the caress of his tongue, but the act itself,
the taking of another's cock in one's mouth with the sole purpose of
pleasuring it to a point of ejaculation, that I could not ignore.  My
breathing soon grew louder than the hiss of the heater, and as I felt my
nuts begin to contract I closed my eyes with the ecstasy, and as I felt my
cum at last begin to rise up my throbbing cock I cried out with the dynamic
force of my ejaculation, filling my lover's mouth with my seed.
     Then we lay close, each drawing the other tightly to him, each laying
still and listening to the beat of the other's heart. Neither of us spoke
as we lay there, each being content just to be in the other's arms.  Antti
was not one who was content to lay too long, however, and that night, nor
was I.  He was laying half on and half off me, and it was not long before
his quick hands found my wet cock again.  And so we began as we did the
first time, slow at first, but gradually picking up the pace, obeying our
hearts and our groins for a repeat performance, and when once more we were
done, we cuddled again.
     I did not notice the time pass by that night, and I remember being
surprised to suddenly discover that it was starting to become lighter
outdoors.  The first finches began to sing and when I peeked out of the
flaps, the grass around the tent glimmered with dew.  The feeling at that
moment was indescribable.  Today I would give away all my belongings to
experience that moment again with Antti.
     The second day Antti made an expedition into the village again but the
day did not bring any special news.  He learned the police had spoken to
many of my mates in search of me.  Being the bold type of person that he
was, Antti even went to the police office to inquire if they knew anything
about "his friend".  The police officer told Antti that my parents worried
about me, and they called several times every day to the office to see if
there was any information.  He only spread out his hands and said to Antti,
"no clue."  The policeman said also that he should tell them if he found
out anything about me, which Antti of course eagerly promised to do.
     When Antti told me what he had heard, I felt bad about the sorrow
which my parents were surely feeling, and my conscience told me I should go
to them.  However, when I told this to Antti, he said strictly, "you're
wrong now, Jussi.  Vittu, there is someone else who has a better reason to
have a guilty conscience.  Don't get sissy now, man!"
     Without Antti's support, I would maybe have ended this adventure then
and there, but Antti was unyielding, and righteously said we were on the
right path. We had all in all a boring day that day. Late that evening when
it began to get dark again, we started to chat while Antti checked my
wounds once more.  I was really feeling low spirited as I thought about the
relationship between Dad and myself.  Finally I mentioned my feelings to
Antti.
     "Shit, I feel sorry for you, having to live with such a bastard as
your dad," he replied after thinking for a minute, and then after a still
longer pause, he asked, "Maybe you would compare experiences with my life?"
     "Sure I would," I replied. I knew Antti had been adopted by his
present family about five years earlier, but I didn't know anything about
the earlier events of his life.  Even though I knew his earlier life had
not been full of sunshine, I had never understood why he never spoke of the
time he had spent with his real parents.
     "You know I am an only child," he began, and I nodded.  I had not
really known, but I had suspected as much as surely they would not separate
children from a family.
     "Well, I know about being abused by a dad also," he said softy,
looking away from me.  I did not know what to say, and only sat and
listened.  "There are other forms of abuse, besides being struck by a
belt," he continued, looking up at me.  I have lead an innocent life, and
still did not understand what he was trying to say.  "It began when I was
eight," Antti continued, looking away again.  "One night he just came into
my room and told me to remove my underwear, and then he raped me."
     I stared at my friend, my best buddy, speechless at his revelation.
     "Can you imagine how it was to be afraid day and night of your dad,
afraid he would come to your room to penetrate your ass again and again
with even caring if you bled or not?  When I was in school, I dreaded to
see the evening and the night.  Even though I have not seen him now in five
years I still remember his grin when he would come in my room and tell me
to turn on my stomach and take my briefs off.  Even though I was afraid and
did not want to do it, I could not image to defend myself, and never in the
world to tell anyone."
     "How long did it take before you escaped from that hell?" I asked,
shocked and terrified by what he had just told me.
     "About three years.  One day my teacher, an old lady, asked me to stay
behind in the class while the others left, and gradually she coaxed out the
whole story.  As soon as she heard she called the cops, and the next time I
saw my dad it was in the courthouse."
     Antti blinked his eyes and I realized his tears were not far
away. Where was now the tough guy with the brass knuckles in his pocket
that I had known these past years?  Where was the brisk and cheerful
expression that was always on his face?  I saw him that moment naked,
unmasked.  That moment I realized that he needed love, love and again love,
and understanding.
     Having opened up to me, he stood there, waiting for me to answer,
waiting for me to reach out my hand.  I realized then that he needed to
know, he needed evidence that a sinner such as him, a former youth
offender, an ex drug user, could receive any love.  I burst into tears.
     "Antti, my mate," I managed to choke as I rushed to him and hugged
him.
     That moment and the night which followed are still too holy, too
grand, to be described in writing.  I simply can't.  It was too unique.  I
know there are rare others who know what I am trying to say.  Two boys hurt
until their hearts ached met each other that night on the level of souls.
Two boys, each knowing what the other's heart felt, not just what the mouth
spoke, understood each other in the most complete and extensive way that
evening.  I can only say that we were awake for the night.  We talked, we
made love, and we talked some more. We rested, leaning on each other.  We
did not need to talk, but only to be there.
     When I awoke, my head was on Antti's chest and his arm was around my
shoulder.  I carefully removed his arm and got up and started to make
coffee.  Antti stirred and slowly woke up.
     "Jussi, today we realize our plan," he said as he stretched.  "I tell
now what we will do."
     I was aghast, and amazed, at what he proposed.  I told him I could
not, and that I would take it all back and would just go home.  Antti would
hear nothing of it.  He was as hard as the rock of Gibralter.  Before me
again was the Antti that I knew.
      "Vittu, mate, if you chicken out now you will never get your dad to
conduct himself as he should.  When we now have the upper hand, we must
take advantage of it."
     I have never felt so excited, and so anxious, as when the two of us
squeezed into the call box that morning.  Antti carefully stuffed rolled
toilet paper in his mouth between his teeth and cheeks and then dialled the
number.  I was cramped, and felt a strange ache in the pit of my stomach.
     "Niemi here."  It was Dad's voice.  Here in Finland, it is common to
answer the phone by stating your last name, as Dad had.
      "Here is Nescio Nomes," Antti said, making up the name, "from
somewhere, hey.  Wanna Jussi back?"
     "What the hell are you talking about?" replied Dad, his voice
thundering with excitement.  "He must come home right now or. . . ."
     "No way, hold on," Antti replied coolly.  "There are some things to
talk about before he comes home. It is known by some people here how you
have beaten your son.  The wounds have been photographed and a message to
the child protection authorities has already been written.  What do you
think of that?"
     Silence.  Long silence.
     "Hello?" Antti said, thinking Dad had hung up.
     "Extortion. . . ." I heard Dad grind his teeth.
     "Extortion?  Then please go to the cops and tell them about it.  I
have told you, we have photographed your son's back and written a letter to
the authorities.  How can you call this extortion?  But I would really like
to know if you wish to avoid all this.  If not, please hang up and we will
continue in another way."
     "Well, you will absolutely not have a reason to go to the police.  I
would avoid all possible needless commotion, so tell me what you want."
     "I wish only that Jussi may come home without being afraid for himself
or his safety.  And if you can't promise it, and if you touch him with a
finger, you'll get caught," Antti said pluckily.
     "Oh of course he may come home without being afraid of anything,
that's a matter of course.  How could he think otherwise?"
     "You hypocritical pig!" Antti exploded, unable to restrain his temper.
"You have beaten the shit out of your own son and you say he hasn't a
reason to be afraid?  Have you any better jokes?"
     Well, if I would say the chat that followed was friendly and
constructive I would lie.  However, finally they made an agreement that I
would come back the following day, Dad would call the police and tell them
everything was all right, and I would be safe at home.
     "But remember, if you don't keep your promise, the gossips of the
village will get to know your son is a poof," Antti warned Dad for good
measure.  That was almost too much for him to swallow, but he didn't have a
choice.  Grinning broadly as he hung up the phone, Antti took the toilet
paper rolls from his mouth and said, "I should become an actor, huh?"
     Well that was it roughly.  We had a great night, and in the morning I
came home.  It would be an exaggeration to say I had looked forward to
meeting my dad that day, but it went well enough.  We have sort of an
armistice now.

Epilogue:

My very good friend, Antti, this former tough youth offender, this great,
self-effacing friend who was always ready like a boy scout to help the
suffering, died suddenly last November. His short and suffer-filled life
has ended, and I hope he rests now in peace.  If I use the old phrase, I
will never forget him, I hope you believe I really mean it.  One reason I
have written this story is to honour his memory.  As for Dad, since I have
written this initially, he has had a heart attack, and we have since come
to a closer understanding.  Life is still not great, but had it not been
for Antti, my life would certainly have been far worse.

Author's Note.  This is a true story, related to me by daily email from
Antti as it was happening in August of 1998, and then written in draft form
in March by Jussi.  I have tried to keep the words as close as possible to
how he originally described the incident.  This story follows two other
stories I have written about Antti and Jussi, "Love in a Tent Near
Lappeenranta" and "In a Hotel Room in Turku".  It has taken five months to
complete this story, not because it was difficult to find the words, but
because each time I brought it to the screen to edit, it was difficult not
to weep for the immense joy, and the painful sorrow, that I hope the story
portrays.  Comments can be sent to the author J.O. Dickingson at
authorsix@hotmail.com.  All comments will be forwarded to Jussi (with
addresses and identification removed if requested).  This story is for
posting at free gay story sites and may not be copied electronically or in
an other form for posting at unauthorized sites.