That evening, after I had recovered with a cup of coffee and a few cigarettes I went over to Mr. Grant’s house where I knocked on his front door. He opened it after a few moments and stood there looking at me. He was dressed in a button down shirt and tie, black slacks, and he smelled of cologne, something musky and subtle. I looked up to him slightly and he smirked down at me.
“Hi there,” I said, “about the other day, I was, well, I’m sorry.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I accept your apology.”
I was stunned by his easy acceptance and shifted on my feet. I had my suspicions that he was gay but I wanted to get across that I was too, that there was some possibility of a relationship. No, not a relationship I told myself, a friendship, but of course I was lying to myself, trying to not get myself too excited, too obsessed.
“Well, I just, I mean, it was a late night you know. I was with this guy. He’s not my boyfriend we just get together once in a while and we were drinking.” I suddenly felt bad about lying to him. “I was drinking,” I said, “and I had too much.”
“Sorry to hear that,” he said. “But it looks like you recovered.”
He didn’t seem bothered or interested by what I had sad. He seemed focused on something else. I thought about the way he was dressed and realized he was probably headed to work. I clenched my teeth and looked back over to my house. I could hear the birds chirping and a jet airplane passing overhead.
“Was that all?” he asked.
“No, uh, yeah, I guess. I just wanted to thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but I really have to get going,” he said.
He began to close the door and I thought about the other night with my parents. Would they have dinner again? What would they talk about? Would they talk about me? I swallowed hard and felt myself speaking without really thinking about it.
“Just uh, well, my parents, you’re not going to tell them are you?”
“I hadn’t planned on it but I’m not going to lie to them,” he answered.
“Right, I wouldn’t ask you to do that it’s just, I mean they don’t really need to know. I mean I’m an adult. It’s not like they’d care. I’ve been on my own now for long time and it’s not like they can really do anything. I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
He nodded.
“Well, okay then, thanks again,” I said as I extended my hand.
He took hold of it and I felt his warm skin. It was the warmest, driest, firmest, softest, hand I had ever shaken. He smiled at me and I smiled back. I could smell him. I wanted to stay there. I wanted to touch him. I wanted so much more. But then he let go and stepped back into his house and closed his door. I turned on my feet and shuffled my way back home, inside, and to the living room where I sat on the couch. I didn’t really feel like doing anything, not even drinking. I stared at the black flat screen and let my mind go blank.
An hour later I managed to find a distraction by watching television, after that it was video games, and quick jerk off before my parents got home. We ate dinner together and I was feeling pretty good when I went up to my room to do some homework or find some other kind of entertainment when I heard a car door shut outside so I went to my window and looked over at my neighbor’s house. I saw a black luxury car driving away and him making his way to his front door. I watched as he unlocked it. His head was down. He stepped inside and closed the door. I wanted to step away but I felt myself compelled to watch as lights went on inside the house. It was a series of lights that allowed me to almost perfectly follow his movement until he was upstairs and then I lost him.
I got my laptop, locked my bedroom door, turned off most of the lights and decided I needed another round. I found some free porn, an erotica story, and worked myself to an orgasm inside a sock. But it wasn’t the same.
After that I went about my life, did my homework, played some more video games, and eventually fell asleep. The next day I awoke and jerked off again before using the bathroom and going down for breakfast. Each of us usually did our own thing for breakfast and I was surprised to see my parents were eating. My mother asked if I wanted her to cook me something but I said I would find something myself. That usually consisted of a cereal bar or some other quick treat and a glass of orange juice and coffee before I went onto the front porch for a smoke.
This time I took my breakfast out with me and sat in the shade of the porch while I watched my neighbor’s house. I started to think about how he was a stranger here and how he probably didn’t have friends or know much about where to go for things. I began to think through my offerings and eventually made up my mind to go say hello. He answered the door in a housecoat, in the gap at his chest I could see a white t-shirt.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Good morning,” he replied.
“Well, uh, yesterday, I mean I know I apologized but I really am sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just don’t make it a habit.”
I looked into his eyes and I saw sincerity there, and something else. Was it concern? Was it guilt? I cleared my throat and decided to push on with my task.
“Listen, you’re new here and I don’t know if you have many friends but I thought you might like to get out a do something.”
“With you? Yeah, okay, that could be nice, but no drinking.”
“No drinking,” I said.
He stepped aside and invited me into his house. I stepped inside and he closed the door behind me. The place felt more home like than before. I could smell breakfast. It smelled like bacon and syrup.
“I just finished eating and was reading some files. Have a seat on the couch and let me go get dressed,” he said.
Don’t on my account, I thought, but didn’t dare say it. Instead I stepped further into his house to look into the dining room, the hallway, and then walked back to the couch where I sat. It wasn’t long before he came back dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt. I loved to feel Tucker’s muscles through that kind of fabric and was all ready having problems concentrating.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I know about some museums, a theater, a good coffee shop, there’s the mall, or we could just walk around downtown. I also know about a nature trail.”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“What about the beach?” I asked.
“Sounds great,” he said.
“Cool,” I said with a little disappointment.
Of all the options it was my least favorite, my last choice. I couldn’t swim and didn’t really like hot sand. But then I thought about seeing him shirtless and I perked up. I would go and just sit, maybe watch his stuff, and he could go swim.
He drove and I gave him directions, even told him where to find a cheap parking lot. We left our valuables in the glove compartment and headed to the beach. I was having regrets even before we reached the sand but Mr. Grant was comfortable at the beach. Maybe he was the type of man who was comfortable anywhere he went, I thought.
He took off his shirt and I saw his muscled, hairy chest for the first time. He had real definition, which to me was an unusual sight. I was used to hairless, muscled guys in all of the porn, television, and ads I had seen but he was different. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he put on sun tan lotion, skilled enough to get his back without help. I wished he would have asked me. I was still in my t-shirt and trunks as I sat there and showed no interest in doing the same.
“Are you going in?” he asked.
“No,” I said with a shake of my head. “I can’t swim.”
“Oh, I thought, I mean you said the beach.”
“I just like to come down here to sit mostly, sometimes I step in the water if I’m feeling adventurous.”
“Oh, well, okay then,” he said.
He looked out to the water and I studied every movement of muscle in his body, the way they moved on his neck and sides as he looked. He had a little bit of definition of abs to his stomach, a familiar v that cut down into his waistband. He picked up a pair of sunglasses, put them, and began to look around. I waited to see the small of his back, the shape of his ass, though is was barely defined by the fabric and the glare.
“Will you watch our stuff so I can go into the water then?”
“Of course,” I said.
He took off his sunglasses and put them down next to me before walking off towards the water. He was patient with the surf, slowly waded out into the ocean. I watched him disappear and sighed before I took out my cigarettes and lit one. I smoked the first one without thinking of very much and was on my second when I saw four guys carrying a net and ball walk onto the sand not to far from me. They were all muscular jocks. They had a sense of comraderie. I watched them talk as they set up the net. It wasn’t long before their shirts came off and they started to hit a ball back and forth. I had my sunglasses on and felt I was getting away with watching them when Mr. Grant came out of the water and made his way to me.
“Do you want to see if we can join them?” Mr. Grant asked.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“It’ll be fun,” he replied.
Mr. Grant walked away from me to the guys who stopped playing when he got close to them. I watched them chat for a while, then all of the guys agreed. They began to wave me over. I got to my feet, walked to them.
When I got there they each introduced themselves to me. There was Leo, Trent, Parker, and Matt. Parker was the cutest but Leo seemed to be the gayest. We split into teams with Mr. Grant and I being on opposite teams. I was never very good at volleyball but was doing my best to keep up. When I missed the guys didn’t seem to mind because no one was keeping score. It wasn’t long before my shirt felt like a hindrance being around everyone else. I decided to make myself comfortable and took it off.
“Do you have any sunscreen?” Leo asked.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Well,” he said.
“I’m fine.”
“No, no, time out guys,” he said. “Come with me.”
I walked with him over to their supplies. He picked up a tube of sunscreen, told me to hold out my hands. I applied it carefully to my face. He squirted more into my hands and began to touch my chest.
“We have to go faster than this,” he said, “turn around.”
I turned from him as he squirted lotion into his own hand, then closed the bottle. He touched my shoulders first, moved down over my shoulder blades, traced his fingers along my ribs down to my hips, filled in the small of my back and worked his way up my spine. He massaged everywhere he touched. I was beginning to enjoy it when someone called out that we were taking too long.
“Get a cabin you two,” Trent said.
“If you’re going to make out get on with it all ready so we can get back to playing,” Matt said.
“We should hurry up,” I said.
“Don’t worry about them. They’re just jealous.”
I felt his hands over me once more to make sure no spot was missed before he slapped me on the shoulder playfully and said I was done. He jogged back to the guys and I slowly walked to them still rubbing the lotion around my body and my face. I got back with my team and readied myself. We played for another hour until everyone seemed to be exhausted. The guys began to talk amongst themselves but I was unsure of whether to go to Mr. Grant or to Leo. I decided Leo could be easiest and headed in his direction when one of the guys spoke up.
“Do you guys want to go for a drink?” Matt asked.
“Well, Shane here isn’t legal drinking age yet,” Mr. Grant said.
I bit my lip as I looked at him but he didn’t waiver.
“No problem, we could just get a bite to eat,” Trent said.
I gave Mr. Grant my most pleading look and he finally agreed we could go. They told him where the place was, how to get to it, and where to park. Mr. Grant thanked them and we got our stuff and headed to his car. He followed the directions to the restaurant and we found a parking spot easily.
When we got out of the car I followed him to the place and inside where he held the door for me. The guys showed up seconds later more cheerful than they had been at the beach. I guess they had gotten a second wind but I was starting to feel the effects of being in the sun.
Because there were so many of us we were told it would take a while to get a table. At first everyone tried to make the best of it, but one by one the guys started to excuse themselves to the restroom, each one taking a little longer than the last. They whispered to each other and I suspected something was up until Leo motioned that I should go along with him.
As we walked to the restroom Leo pulled me to a bar in the back that was hidden from Mr. Grant’s sight. We walked up together and Leo ordered two shots of vodka. The bartender didn’t even ask for our ID’s. Leo took one and I took the other. We downed them and asked for another which we downed. I was dehydrated and hungry so the alcohol kicked in fast. He put his arm around my shoulder and ushered me down the hallway to the private Men’s Room. We went in together and he locked the door behind us. I saw a urinal and a toilet.
My first thought was that we’d separate and maybe I’d get a look at his dick as he was zipping up but he had a different idea as he led me to the urinal. He unzipped and I looked down to his dick. He motioned for me to do the same. I did. He took my hand and placed it on his, then reached over and took hold of mine. We began to pee at about the same time. When we were done he kept hold of mine so I kept hold of his.
“So what’s the deal with you and the old guy?” he asked.
“He’s my neighbor,” I answered.
“So then, you’re not with him?”
“Not really,” I said.
“In a committed relationship?”
I shook my head.
“Want to fool around?”
I nodded.
“Come on,” he said.
I turned to him, readied myself for a kiss but he stopped me with a hand on each shoulder. I knew what he wanted. I got down on my knees. His dick was average size but uncircumcised. I peeled the foreskin back to find the head was slick. I licked my lips and decided to make it as quick as possible. His hands went to the back of my head and I readied myself for him to start pulling me farther down but he didn’t. I reached around to his ass and grabbed hold of his cheeks as best I could. I pulled him into me and too his dick as far as I could.
A few more motions like that and he began to catch on to what I was initiating. He began to work my face, spit formed in my mouth, dripped from my lips, ran down over his balls. I worked him until I felt like we were taking too long so I took away my mouth, leaned against his thigh as I jacked his dick with my hand. It didn’t take much more to make him orgasm and ejaculate over my shoulder and onto the floor. He grunted and cried out in pleasure. I stood up, moved in easily, and kissed him. He began to feel my dick again but I stopped him.
“We don’t have time for that right now,” I said.
“That was fun,” he said.
I took his phone from his pocket, punched in my phone number, then saved it under my name. I put it back.
“Call me any time,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Shadow's Night (Excerpt) Chapter 05 - Boredom
It was late and no one was in the coffee shop. Breakfast had the
most people, lunch was stretched out, and after people got off work was
the most sporadic, but any time she could Heather sat transfixed with a
book. She was supposed to be learning the business, her business, but
it was boring. Her father owned it and she had been running it since
she graduated from high school, a deal they had worked out given her
lack of ambition to go to college. Going some place local felt too much
like going back to high school, if they weren’t the exact same kids it
was still too close, and she didn’t feel like going away, not with her
father the way he was, not with the business being his only support.
She was reading Breakfast of Champions that evening, thinking Vonnegut got it wrong and that she lived in the asshole of the Universe and that if she wasn’t careful she might live there for the rest of her life. She moaned at the thought. She wanted a distraction and she thought about Kevin. She hadn’t talked to him in weeks since he had been back to class. She took out her phone and called him.
“Come down and visit me,” she said as soon as he picked up. “I’m bored and no one is here.”
Alone in his room with one hand pressing the phone to his ear and the other scrolling through his dashboard he looked to the clock. He was bored too and there was nothing he had to do immediately. He agreed and ended the call before he got up from his desk chair, tightened the belt to his jean shorts, and made sure his fly was up. He stuck his phone in his pocket, checked the weight of it there, and headed out.
No one was there to notice him leave. He slipped his shoes on at the front door, pulled the door shut behind him making sure it was locked before he turned on his feet and made the quick five minute walk to Main Street and the coffee shop. He looked through the main window to Heather who looked back with her chin propped on her hand still bored. He opened the door to the smell of coffee and baked goods. His hands in the pockets of his hooded jacket he walked to the counter.
“Do you want something?” she asked.
“Uh,” he said before he looked back to the two people by the window. “I don’t know. Calories, you know, maybe just a tea.”
“No problem, go have a seat and I’ll bring it over,” she said.
He suddenly felt guilty for her waiting on him, and he hadn’t even paid. He reached into his pocket for the few loose dollar bills but when she saw him she shook her head and motioned for him to go where she had told him to go. He pulled out the dollars anyway and put them in the tip cup before he walked to the table, did a quick assessment of where she would need to sit to keep and eye on the door and sat in the opposite spot. He listened to her. She was getting a tea for herself, something to eat.
Was it something to share? He groaned at the thought. He was hungry, just a little bit, but he knew he’d look better if he denied it rather than indulge. She stepped out from behind the counter and walked to him where she set down a tray. There were two teas and two scones.
“You’re mean,” he said.
“Just a few carbs,” she said. “Besides you get plenty of exercise.”
“This will be an extra mile, maybe half,” he said.
“Skinny Mr. Kevin,” she said. She saw him wince at the comment. “Sorry, it just came to mind. We haven’t talked about it in a while. Does your father still check up on you?”
“Sometimes,” he said.
“That’s nice,” she said. “He cares.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know, blow my brains out maybe.”
He recoiled at her sarcasm.
“Sorry, it’s been a long day,” she said. “I’m going to buy bullets with my tips.”
He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed one leg over the other to turn away from her slightly mocking her desperate, bitter attitude. She pulled her hands to her face and let out a grunt of disgust before she stretched out her arms and lay face down on the table for a second before she raised her shoulders with an inhale of air.
“That bad?”
“I’m here breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday. I can take time off here and there, I convinced my father to get someone to help but it’s all just the same. It was bad when there were more people I knew from high school but there’s been two classes since we graduated. They get dumber each year. Somehow the place became hip.
“God, the other day there were a group of teen girls in here who talked about the television show Friends the whole time and how they wanted to go to New York. Boy are they going to be disappointed.”
“Reruns,” he said. “It gives us such bad impressions.”
“My father likes it but ugh, I’d rather be in some bookstore somewhere, reading quietly in the back, only sell things occasionally.”
“People would steal your books,” he said.
“No one steals books,” she said. “They’re not worth anything.”
She broke off a piece of scone and stuck it in her mouth, began to chew. Kevin watched her, looked at his own scone, looked away.
“How’s class?” she asked.
“Boring but I’ll get through it,” he said, “we’re supposed to research our local town and write a piece about it for our final paper. It’s not due for a long time though.”
“Not much to write about here,” she said.
“Some white people took land from some natives who suffered on a reservation until a loophole allowed them to open a casino where poor people of all colors go to gamble and buy cheap cigarettes.”
“Wow, that doesn’t sound bitter at all,” she said.
He laughed mockingly at her causing her to smile.
“So really what do you want to do?” he asked.
“Tarot card reading,” she said.
“Aw, come on?”
“No, it’ll be good.”
She got up from the table and went behind the counter to her bag where she retrieved a cloth bag that held her Tarot cards and returned with it. She sat across from him with renewed energy. She opened the bag, got out the cards, and shuffled them. She held them close to her body with her eyes closed, readied herself across from him before she slid them in his direction. He picked up the cards. They had been through this several times but each time he relied on her instruction and her creativity for what the cards meant.
“You deal your own fate,” she said.
He shuffled the cards, toyed with her a little before she instructed him on how to lay them out for a twenty-one card reading. She looked at them for several minutes when something else caught her eye, a spark. She looked up through the main window to the sidewalk where she saw a young man, a stranger, Conrad, with a cigarette in his hand signaling for someone to join him. The stranger was handsome. He wore a leather jack, the collar up towards his face to protect him from the wind.
“Who is that?” she asked.
Kevin turned on his seat to look out the front window. He looked to the young man, was captivated by his handsome face, his button nose, and kissable lips. He didn’t have to be gay, he thought, anyone would want him.
“Holy shit,” Heather said, “look who’s walking up to him.”
Kevin turned a little more to see the direction the young man was staring to see a familiar person stop in front of him. He knew that face.
“It’s Simon Winters,” she said.
Kevin turned around back to her, his muscles and joints slightly ached by the way he was turned. He let out a grunt of pain and looked her in the eye before he turned back to see the two young men outside the coffee shop talking, then he looked back to her with one ear listening for the door.
“Do you think they’re coming in here?” she asked.
“Has he ever come in here?”
“No, I’ve never seen him in here. He usually sticks to himself. I only ever see him in the library sometimes but he’s always alone. I’ve thought about going up and saying something to him.”
“More like getting his autograph,” he said.
“He’s infamous, not famous,” she replied.
“Is he moving in this direction?”
“I think they are,” she said.
They looked to the door where Conrad pushed his way inside followed by Simon who walked with his hands in his pockets. Heather jumped to her feet and made her way behind the counter to where her patrons took turns looking at each other, the selection of baked goods, and coffee.
“I’m terrible at this,” Conrad said.
“I told you I’ve never been here,” Simon replied. He was annoyed for having been dragged along and didn’t want it to be any easier.
“Can I help you?” Heather asked.
Conrad leaned against the counter and looked into Heather’s eyes, looked her over before looking to Kevin who sat staring back at him. They caught each other’s eyes and looked away, each with nearly the same thought, he’s cruising me, here. Conrad shook off the thought.
“I usually just get black coffee and a scone,” he said.
“We can do that,” she said.
“What about your friend?”
Everyone looked to Simon who held up a hand of slight protest. He looked to the floor and out into the street trying to show no interest.
“He’ll have the same,” Conrad said.
She rang up the order but she wanted to know more. She had an idea.
“I uh, usually call out a name,” she said.
“Conrad,” he replied.
Heather and Kevin looked to each other as Conrad began to count out cash. He paid with a ten dollar bill and when he got back the change he dropped a dollar and the change in the tip cup. Simon looked ready to leave but Conrad led him to a table where they sat. Conrad cast one last look across the room to Kevin who had focused back on the Tarot cards on the table. He spied the young man’s muscled calf and the way he played with his hair. Maybe there were queers here after all, he thought, and maybe I should get to know them.
Buy The Book
She was reading Breakfast of Champions that evening, thinking Vonnegut got it wrong and that she lived in the asshole of the Universe and that if she wasn’t careful she might live there for the rest of her life. She moaned at the thought. She wanted a distraction and she thought about Kevin. She hadn’t talked to him in weeks since he had been back to class. She took out her phone and called him.
“Come down and visit me,” she said as soon as he picked up. “I’m bored and no one is here.”
Alone in his room with one hand pressing the phone to his ear and the other scrolling through his dashboard he looked to the clock. He was bored too and there was nothing he had to do immediately. He agreed and ended the call before he got up from his desk chair, tightened the belt to his jean shorts, and made sure his fly was up. He stuck his phone in his pocket, checked the weight of it there, and headed out.
No one was there to notice him leave. He slipped his shoes on at the front door, pulled the door shut behind him making sure it was locked before he turned on his feet and made the quick five minute walk to Main Street and the coffee shop. He looked through the main window to Heather who looked back with her chin propped on her hand still bored. He opened the door to the smell of coffee and baked goods. His hands in the pockets of his hooded jacket he walked to the counter.
“Do you want something?” she asked.
“Uh,” he said before he looked back to the two people by the window. “I don’t know. Calories, you know, maybe just a tea.”
“No problem, go have a seat and I’ll bring it over,” she said.
He suddenly felt guilty for her waiting on him, and he hadn’t even paid. He reached into his pocket for the few loose dollar bills but when she saw him she shook her head and motioned for him to go where she had told him to go. He pulled out the dollars anyway and put them in the tip cup before he walked to the table, did a quick assessment of where she would need to sit to keep and eye on the door and sat in the opposite spot. He listened to her. She was getting a tea for herself, something to eat.
Was it something to share? He groaned at the thought. He was hungry, just a little bit, but he knew he’d look better if he denied it rather than indulge. She stepped out from behind the counter and walked to him where she set down a tray. There were two teas and two scones.
“You’re mean,” he said.
“Just a few carbs,” she said. “Besides you get plenty of exercise.”
“This will be an extra mile, maybe half,” he said.
“Skinny Mr. Kevin,” she said. She saw him wince at the comment. “Sorry, it just came to mind. We haven’t talked about it in a while. Does your father still check up on you?”
“Sometimes,” he said.
“That’s nice,” she said. “He cares.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know, blow my brains out maybe.”
He recoiled at her sarcasm.
“Sorry, it’s been a long day,” she said. “I’m going to buy bullets with my tips.”
He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed one leg over the other to turn away from her slightly mocking her desperate, bitter attitude. She pulled her hands to her face and let out a grunt of disgust before she stretched out her arms and lay face down on the table for a second before she raised her shoulders with an inhale of air.
“That bad?”
“I’m here breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday. I can take time off here and there, I convinced my father to get someone to help but it’s all just the same. It was bad when there were more people I knew from high school but there’s been two classes since we graduated. They get dumber each year. Somehow the place became hip.
“God, the other day there were a group of teen girls in here who talked about the television show Friends the whole time and how they wanted to go to New York. Boy are they going to be disappointed.”
“Reruns,” he said. “It gives us such bad impressions.”
“My father likes it but ugh, I’d rather be in some bookstore somewhere, reading quietly in the back, only sell things occasionally.”
“People would steal your books,” he said.
“No one steals books,” she said. “They’re not worth anything.”
She broke off a piece of scone and stuck it in her mouth, began to chew. Kevin watched her, looked at his own scone, looked away.
“How’s class?” she asked.
“Boring but I’ll get through it,” he said, “we’re supposed to research our local town and write a piece about it for our final paper. It’s not due for a long time though.”
“Not much to write about here,” she said.
“Some white people took land from some natives who suffered on a reservation until a loophole allowed them to open a casino where poor people of all colors go to gamble and buy cheap cigarettes.”
“Wow, that doesn’t sound bitter at all,” she said.
He laughed mockingly at her causing her to smile.
“So really what do you want to do?” he asked.
“Tarot card reading,” she said.
“Aw, come on?”
“No, it’ll be good.”
She got up from the table and went behind the counter to her bag where she retrieved a cloth bag that held her Tarot cards and returned with it. She sat across from him with renewed energy. She opened the bag, got out the cards, and shuffled them. She held them close to her body with her eyes closed, readied herself across from him before she slid them in his direction. He picked up the cards. They had been through this several times but each time he relied on her instruction and her creativity for what the cards meant.
“You deal your own fate,” she said.
He shuffled the cards, toyed with her a little before she instructed him on how to lay them out for a twenty-one card reading. She looked at them for several minutes when something else caught her eye, a spark. She looked up through the main window to the sidewalk where she saw a young man, a stranger, Conrad, with a cigarette in his hand signaling for someone to join him. The stranger was handsome. He wore a leather jack, the collar up towards his face to protect him from the wind.
“Who is that?” she asked.
Kevin turned on his seat to look out the front window. He looked to the young man, was captivated by his handsome face, his button nose, and kissable lips. He didn’t have to be gay, he thought, anyone would want him.
“Holy shit,” Heather said, “look who’s walking up to him.”
Kevin turned a little more to see the direction the young man was staring to see a familiar person stop in front of him. He knew that face.
“It’s Simon Winters,” she said.
Kevin turned around back to her, his muscles and joints slightly ached by the way he was turned. He let out a grunt of pain and looked her in the eye before he turned back to see the two young men outside the coffee shop talking, then he looked back to her with one ear listening for the door.
“Do you think they’re coming in here?” she asked.
“Has he ever come in here?”
“No, I’ve never seen him in here. He usually sticks to himself. I only ever see him in the library sometimes but he’s always alone. I’ve thought about going up and saying something to him.”
“More like getting his autograph,” he said.
“He’s infamous, not famous,” she replied.
“Is he moving in this direction?”
“I think they are,” she said.
They looked to the door where Conrad pushed his way inside followed by Simon who walked with his hands in his pockets. Heather jumped to her feet and made her way behind the counter to where her patrons took turns looking at each other, the selection of baked goods, and coffee.
“I’m terrible at this,” Conrad said.
“I told you I’ve never been here,” Simon replied. He was annoyed for having been dragged along and didn’t want it to be any easier.
“Can I help you?” Heather asked.
Conrad leaned against the counter and looked into Heather’s eyes, looked her over before looking to Kevin who sat staring back at him. They caught each other’s eyes and looked away, each with nearly the same thought, he’s cruising me, here. Conrad shook off the thought.
“I usually just get black coffee and a scone,” he said.
“We can do that,” she said.
“What about your friend?”
Everyone looked to Simon who held up a hand of slight protest. He looked to the floor and out into the street trying to show no interest.
“He’ll have the same,” Conrad said.
She rang up the order but she wanted to know more. She had an idea.
“I uh, usually call out a name,” she said.
“Conrad,” he replied.
Heather and Kevin looked to each other as Conrad began to count out cash. He paid with a ten dollar bill and when he got back the change he dropped a dollar and the change in the tip cup. Simon looked ready to leave but Conrad led him to a table where they sat. Conrad cast one last look across the room to Kevin who had focused back on the Tarot cards on the table. He spied the young man’s muscled calf and the way he played with his hair. Maybe there were queers here after all, he thought, and maybe I should get to know them.
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Shadow's Night (Excerpt) Chapter 03 - Kevin
Kevin awoke to his alarm
clock feeling as if he didn’t have time to sleep. He looked to see it
was 5:30 A.M. and turned off the alarm. He sat up from his bed feeling
renewed but slightly disoriented. He dropped to the floor where he laid
out on his back, put his knees into the air, and began to do sit ups.
He counted them under his breath until he reached twenty, then he rolled
over on his stomach and did twenty pushups, jumped to his feet and ran
in place for thirty seconds, did fifteen squat thrusts, then got back
into position for more sit ups. He did seven more cycles before he
stopped just after the last squat thrust. He rolled onto his back for a
moment to catch his breath.
He looked under his bed where he saw it was empty and smiled. He was pleased that there was no clutter, no extra belongings hid somewhere. He had gotten himself organized six years ago before he started high school and he wasn’t going back. He sat up, pushed himself from the floor and stripped off his clothes, dropped them in the hamper and stepped in front of the full length mirror. He was happy with his body for once. His belly and the padding of baby fat on his face were gone.
Everything was in its right place, he told himself. He went to the middle of his room and sat, crossed his legs and assumed his best meditative form. He liked to meditate naked because it felt like his body was the most open. He thought about the day before and everything he had done. He thought about the things he needed to do. He thought about where he had to go, the people he would talk to and deal with and among those people was Thad.
Thad was only minutes away, would be waiting for him on the corner to go for a run. He smiled. No, he told himself, be in the moment, put all those assumptions away somewhere. He had thought it through but life wouldn’t happen exactly that way. Embrace the chaos, he told himself.
There was the sound of his phone telling him he had a text message from Thad. Was he running late? He waited until he felt himself calm down, then he opened his eyes and got back to his feet. He retrieved his phone, just a good morning message telling him Thad was five minutes early and missing him. He smiled and deleted the message before he put down his phone and went to get his workout clothes from the drawer: a thin pair of shorts, t-shirt, jock strap, and cup. He pulled the jock strap up, placed the cup inside. He looked at himself in the mirror and was delighted because he never thought four years ago he would take pride in his body and exercise. He finished dressing, put on his socks and shoes, made his way out of the quiet house.
He checked to make sure he had his house key tied on a string around his neck, that it hadn’t been pulled off while he slept in some accident or fit of rage before he closed the door and made sure it was locked. He did ten jumping jacks before he dashed down the stairs and across the lawn. He got to the sidewalk and turned. He picked up his speed in anticipation of seeing Thad.
Suburban, colonial style houses that had been built over a hundred years ago, the rest of the neighborhood was still quiet. Only a few mothers and fathers were awake, maybe the poor soul delivering newspapers, garbage collectors and people headed to work knew about this time and many of them probably didn’t appreciate it. He liked this time of the morning, something few people ever knew about because most of them were still asleep. Although there would be fewer of them with Fall approaching but sometimes it felt like only him and Thad as they ran the streets and through the park. That made it easier.
He spotted Thad on the corner in the grass stretching his legs and smiled. The man was possibly twenty years older than him but fit and good natured unlike any other person his age. He could be disarming, took an interest in people like when Thad had been impressed that Kevin was a conscientious eater and exercised regularly. Kevin felt comfortable admitting to him that he struggled with anorexia in high school until his parents got him a therapist who got him a personal trainer. He learned about food and exercise the right way, he said.
They had talked for a long time about food and work. Kevin had just begun his internship but he was eager to find out how the newspaper worked. Thad had told him he was in the photography business for over a decade feeling that it would scare him but Kevin was intrigued by his career. They talked any chance they got. They met frequently on breaks and lunch. Kevin asked him about his previous life and sometimes Thad told him about what it was like as if he wanted to have it again, as if they could have it together.
But even as comfortable as they were with each other coming out was still a process. Finally, after weeks of talking Thad admitted that he had broken up with his long-term boyfriend before moving to town. Kevin sat in silence for a long time. He knew that each had suspected the other was gay but not wanting to offend each other they assumed the other was straight, neither of them even in these days wanted to risk offending the other by making some assumption. Kevin had never told anyone his own secret but then he just said it.
“I haven’t had a boyfriend yet but I’m looking forward to it.”
They both looked at each other and laughed suddenly feeling ridiculous for not recognizing in the other, for being afraid of saying something for weeks. After that it became more comfortable until Thad asked him to go jogging. Kevin felt himself being excited about the idea. Was it a date? Was it the beginning of a relationship? He found himself flirting with the older man if even only accidentally or unconsciously until he recognized what he had done, what he had said. Thad noticed but said that he was afraid of being in a relationship with someone so young, but that was months ago.
Kevin came to a stop a few feet from Thad after signaling to each other a hello. He began to run in place. He looked up and down the streets but there was no traffic, a few inside houselights were on. He signaled for Thad to get ready.
“How are you this morning?” Thad asked.
“Good,” Kevin said. “How are you?”
“Old,” Thad said.
“Better hurry then before you get any older. Last one to the park has to pay for lunch.”
Kevin began to run away towards the park and Thad gave him a lead before he dashed after him. Thad got close enough to make Kevin look back. Each let out a laugh before they doubled down and began to run as hard as they could. They were even when Thad reached over and slapped playfully at Kevin’s arm. Kevin tried to slap back or at least keep him away. It was a long run into the back of the neighborhood to the park, a preservation, the as of yet unprocessed trees.
Kevin felt as if for once he was leading when Thad stopped playing and gave it his all. He pulled ahead of the young man for just long enough that he touched the park sign first. Kevin slowed himself enough, ran into the sign and let out a laugh.
“You’re too much,” Thad said.
“I think we’re both going to be tired today for work,” Kevin said.
“At least you’re only there for a few hours.”
“So are you,” Kevin said.
“Oh right, well, it’s nice to not have a good job I guess. Hey that reminds me do you want to help me at my studio on Saturday? I’d pay you something under the table, say twenty bucks and maybe a piece of pizza.”
“Yeah sure,” Kevin said. That would be a good way to earn some money, maybe they could find some time to do something else, but then he reminded himself of where they were. He signaled for Thad to follow him.
“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this,” Thad said.
They walked into the park, along the familiar trail. Down one path, then off on another, and yet another going in a direction few walkers ever went. Kevin signaled with his head for Thad to follow him along a thin path through the trees. They had fooled around in different spots all over the park, mostly kissing and groping.
He moved on impulse, searching out some perfect spot. He walked until he felt far enough away so they wouldn’t be seen. They stopped to catch their breath, to listen and make sure no one else was around and they wouldn’t be disturbed.
Kevin looked to the older man, stared him in the eye before he pulled off his shirt and threw it to him. Thad shook his head as if he was shaking away guilt before he pulled off his own shirt. Kevin let his shorts drop, stuck his thumbs in the waist band of his jock, ran them between the fabric and his own skin, moved his thumbs down to the straps where he toyed with them, toyed with Thad’s desire.
“You’re naughty,” Thad said.
“Maybe we both are,” Kevin said.
They listened for a moment to make sure no one had heard them. They stepped to each other with their hands slightly out anticipating the touch. They reached for skin at the same time. They were simultaneously delighted by the feel of their touch and being touched.
They kissed.
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He looked under his bed where he saw it was empty and smiled. He was pleased that there was no clutter, no extra belongings hid somewhere. He had gotten himself organized six years ago before he started high school and he wasn’t going back. He sat up, pushed himself from the floor and stripped off his clothes, dropped them in the hamper and stepped in front of the full length mirror. He was happy with his body for once. His belly and the padding of baby fat on his face were gone.
Everything was in its right place, he told himself. He went to the middle of his room and sat, crossed his legs and assumed his best meditative form. He liked to meditate naked because it felt like his body was the most open. He thought about the day before and everything he had done. He thought about the things he needed to do. He thought about where he had to go, the people he would talk to and deal with and among those people was Thad.
Thad was only minutes away, would be waiting for him on the corner to go for a run. He smiled. No, he told himself, be in the moment, put all those assumptions away somewhere. He had thought it through but life wouldn’t happen exactly that way. Embrace the chaos, he told himself.
There was the sound of his phone telling him he had a text message from Thad. Was he running late? He waited until he felt himself calm down, then he opened his eyes and got back to his feet. He retrieved his phone, just a good morning message telling him Thad was five minutes early and missing him. He smiled and deleted the message before he put down his phone and went to get his workout clothes from the drawer: a thin pair of shorts, t-shirt, jock strap, and cup. He pulled the jock strap up, placed the cup inside. He looked at himself in the mirror and was delighted because he never thought four years ago he would take pride in his body and exercise. He finished dressing, put on his socks and shoes, made his way out of the quiet house.
He checked to make sure he had his house key tied on a string around his neck, that it hadn’t been pulled off while he slept in some accident or fit of rage before he closed the door and made sure it was locked. He did ten jumping jacks before he dashed down the stairs and across the lawn. He got to the sidewalk and turned. He picked up his speed in anticipation of seeing Thad.
Suburban, colonial style houses that had been built over a hundred years ago, the rest of the neighborhood was still quiet. Only a few mothers and fathers were awake, maybe the poor soul delivering newspapers, garbage collectors and people headed to work knew about this time and many of them probably didn’t appreciate it. He liked this time of the morning, something few people ever knew about because most of them were still asleep. Although there would be fewer of them with Fall approaching but sometimes it felt like only him and Thad as they ran the streets and through the park. That made it easier.
He spotted Thad on the corner in the grass stretching his legs and smiled. The man was possibly twenty years older than him but fit and good natured unlike any other person his age. He could be disarming, took an interest in people like when Thad had been impressed that Kevin was a conscientious eater and exercised regularly. Kevin felt comfortable admitting to him that he struggled with anorexia in high school until his parents got him a therapist who got him a personal trainer. He learned about food and exercise the right way, he said.
They had talked for a long time about food and work. Kevin had just begun his internship but he was eager to find out how the newspaper worked. Thad had told him he was in the photography business for over a decade feeling that it would scare him but Kevin was intrigued by his career. They talked any chance they got. They met frequently on breaks and lunch. Kevin asked him about his previous life and sometimes Thad told him about what it was like as if he wanted to have it again, as if they could have it together.
But even as comfortable as they were with each other coming out was still a process. Finally, after weeks of talking Thad admitted that he had broken up with his long-term boyfriend before moving to town. Kevin sat in silence for a long time. He knew that each had suspected the other was gay but not wanting to offend each other they assumed the other was straight, neither of them even in these days wanted to risk offending the other by making some assumption. Kevin had never told anyone his own secret but then he just said it.
“I haven’t had a boyfriend yet but I’m looking forward to it.”
They both looked at each other and laughed suddenly feeling ridiculous for not recognizing in the other, for being afraid of saying something for weeks. After that it became more comfortable until Thad asked him to go jogging. Kevin felt himself being excited about the idea. Was it a date? Was it the beginning of a relationship? He found himself flirting with the older man if even only accidentally or unconsciously until he recognized what he had done, what he had said. Thad noticed but said that he was afraid of being in a relationship with someone so young, but that was months ago.
Kevin came to a stop a few feet from Thad after signaling to each other a hello. He began to run in place. He looked up and down the streets but there was no traffic, a few inside houselights were on. He signaled for Thad to get ready.
“How are you this morning?” Thad asked.
“Good,” Kevin said. “How are you?”
“Old,” Thad said.
“Better hurry then before you get any older. Last one to the park has to pay for lunch.”
Kevin began to run away towards the park and Thad gave him a lead before he dashed after him. Thad got close enough to make Kevin look back. Each let out a laugh before they doubled down and began to run as hard as they could. They were even when Thad reached over and slapped playfully at Kevin’s arm. Kevin tried to slap back or at least keep him away. It was a long run into the back of the neighborhood to the park, a preservation, the as of yet unprocessed trees.
Kevin felt as if for once he was leading when Thad stopped playing and gave it his all. He pulled ahead of the young man for just long enough that he touched the park sign first. Kevin slowed himself enough, ran into the sign and let out a laugh.
“You’re too much,” Thad said.
“I think we’re both going to be tired today for work,” Kevin said.
“At least you’re only there for a few hours.”
“So are you,” Kevin said.
“Oh right, well, it’s nice to not have a good job I guess. Hey that reminds me do you want to help me at my studio on Saturday? I’d pay you something under the table, say twenty bucks and maybe a piece of pizza.”
“Yeah sure,” Kevin said. That would be a good way to earn some money, maybe they could find some time to do something else, but then he reminded himself of where they were. He signaled for Thad to follow him.
“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this,” Thad said.
They walked into the park, along the familiar trail. Down one path, then off on another, and yet another going in a direction few walkers ever went. Kevin signaled with his head for Thad to follow him along a thin path through the trees. They had fooled around in different spots all over the park, mostly kissing and groping.
He moved on impulse, searching out some perfect spot. He walked until he felt far enough away so they wouldn’t be seen. They stopped to catch their breath, to listen and make sure no one else was around and they wouldn’t be disturbed.
Kevin looked to the older man, stared him in the eye before he pulled off his shirt and threw it to him. Thad shook his head as if he was shaking away guilt before he pulled off his own shirt. Kevin let his shorts drop, stuck his thumbs in the waist band of his jock, ran them between the fabric and his own skin, moved his thumbs down to the straps where he toyed with them, toyed with Thad’s desire.
“You’re naughty,” Thad said.
“Maybe we both are,” Kevin said.
They listened for a moment to make sure no one had heard them. They stepped to each other with their hands slightly out anticipating the touch. They reached for skin at the same time. They were simultaneously delighted by the feel of their touch and being touched.
They kissed.
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Shadow's Night (Excerpt) Chapter 02 - Spilled Blood
After shooting a man while
on a bender of drugs he was supposed to sell Conrad flees the city and
goes to a place where he believes no one will find him, the home of
Simon Winters, an old cellmate from his years in juvenile detention.
But he knows he can’t stay for long and Conrad’s greed inadvertently
causes Simon to confront his past and his life in a small town where
memories run deep. How will Simon survive Conrad’s path to darkness?
Present Day...
Rain fell against the windshield of the parked ‘94 Lincoln as it sat in the back of the grocery store parking lot away from customers and light. Inside the car two men, Conrad and Marcus, sat contemplating their fates and what one of them had done. Conrad, the younger of the two, looked out through the splattered rain drops into the night sky. He wanted to confess something they both knew. He wanted to say it even though it didn’t seem rational.
There had been minutes of silence between them after Marcus had picked him up and driven him to the lot. Marcus had been a mentor and his lover for over two years. He was a strong man, tough and unsympathetic. He had decried sentimentality and empathy on a regular basis. And Conrad was afraid how the man would react.
“Marcus, I shot someone,” Conrad said.
When Marcus didn’t respond he looked to the older man who sat next to him blowing smoke out of the partially open window. Marcus knocked ash onto the floor. He stroked his beard, scratched at his throat as if he were massaging the words there.
“Tell me about it,” Marcus said.
“I was over at Tina’s. It was early morning so no one was there. I was playing 9-Ball alone just to hone my skills. I had been up a few days snorting Ritalin and whatever else so I was scratching and getting frustrated. I was lining up a shot and not paying attention, bam, he blindsides me.”
Conrad thought about the way the enforcer hit him, lifted him from the ground and sent him flying into a nearby table, the feeling of the edge against his back, falling to the ground, and the way the carpet felt on his hands. He shook off the memory.
“I look up and it’s Dylan. He never liked me and he’s got this look in his eye because for once he’s justified to kick the shit out of me.”
“But how did you get mixed up with that sadistic bastard?” Marcus asked.
“He had that pharmaceutical connection. I thought it would be easy money. Everyone at the clubs and parties wants the pills because they know it’s uncut and high quality and I knew I could overcharge them. It would be a hustle but still it would be worth it. The weed from you was good but this was... I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s your life. You were being an entrepreneur.”
“Anyway, he’s on me but it’s like he’s toying with me. That was the worst part. I’m saying anything I can to get him to stop. I say, ‘I’ll do anything’ and he laughs at me. He tells me he had a bet that I’d try to bribe him with sex and how fags were good earners but could never be real members.
“I start to get to my knees but I’m dizzy and he grabs hold of my hair, I fall against him. He starts laughing. That’s when I got my gun from the ankle holster and I press the barrel up into his balls. Fucker turned white as a ghost, he was scared of me or some freak accident.
“I had him good. He lets me go and backs away. I get to my feet but stagger. He moves like he’s coming at me but there’s too much distance and I steady myself. I can feel as I look at him, this maggot is mine.”
“You shot him?”
“No, not like that. I was ready to let him go. I just wanted some sleep. He starts saying things like how this isn’t over and how I owe money, and how the next time he sees me it’s personal, that he’ll take my head off and let guys use it for a toilet. It all felt so weird. I knew what I was doing but I don’t know. He says to me, ‘Next time I-’ and that’s when I pointed my gun at his chest.
“He held out his hand and you know the funny thing is that I shot it. I shot his hand. I’ve barely used a gun but it just popped up, bam. I see him start to go weak but I’m thinking I have to finish this so I shoot at him. One shot hits the wall, another hits some glass, and I’m panicking so I close on him and bam, bam, he’s down and out.”
Marcus sat in the passenger seat slowly nodding.
“What do I do now?”
“Now you run,” Marcus said.
“What? Why? No one else saw me. Did they?”
“Some waitress named Brenda saw the whole thing from behind the door. She called the police, said you shot him in cold blood. The police have a sketch of your face and a description. They don’t know your name but they’ll probably find fingerprints. The Brotherhood got to her after that which is how I know. I heard it from her directly, and they know your name. They’re coming after you.”
“Even you?”
Marcus gave him a look and Conrad let out a nervous laugh.
“I care about you but this can’t be fixed. You have to get out of this city and start over somewhere. You can’t go home and you can’t go to any relative’s place. Drive out to the West Coast and get lost there.”
“What about us?”
“Maybe one day, when I retire or maybe I can meet up with you sometime, somewhere on a vacation but you know everything I do is with the club.”
“I’ll be alone,” he said. He didn’t know if he loved the man. He didn’t believe in love. But he did need the man. He could rely on him.
Some part of him wanted to be just cold and calculating. Some part of him wanted to believe Marcus cared. He wanted to believe it wasn’t a facade like when he pretended to be tough and when he pretended to be straight. He had to find out. He had to make the man feel something for him. He winced and looked to his hands. He felt like he could cry but he knew that would be too weak to Marcus. He had to have strength enough to hold the tears back.
“Do you have enough?”
“I’ve got a little of what I was selling, some cash I was going to pay him, a few things but nothing of real value.”
Marcus reached into the breast pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a roll of bills wrapped in rubber bands. The wad had been stuck together for some time and was old and not bills recently taken from a cash machine.
“There’s three grand there in small bills mostly. That’s the best I can come up with right now from my squirrel fund.”
“I need more than this,” Conrad said. “I can’t live like I did before when I was on the street. I can’t go back to that.”
“Do you have some place you can stay for a while? I can get you some more money unless you find some of your own.”
Conrad slouched in his seat as he tried to think over his friends in life, someone the police and the gang wouldn’t know about, couldn’t find through a simple background check. There was one name that came to mind, they had been close once for a brief time but never stayed in contact. It would be easy enough to track him down.
“Yeah, I might know someone,” Conrad said.
“Good, take the car and drive out now, as far as you can. No one knows what you’re driving so don’t get panicked. You find a place off the main road somewhere and crash for a few days to sleep this off. We’ll stay in contact through my second burner phone, no one knows about it.”
“This guy, he lives-”
Marcus silenced him with a finger.
“I don’t want to know where. You need to get safe, let this blow over, and I’ll contact you.”
“Thank you,” Conrad said.
“Come here,” Marcus replied.
Conrad leaned over to hug Marcus but was lifted to his lap where they embraced and kissed as the older man ran his hands under the younger man’s shirt to his shoulder blades where he grasped at the skin there.
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Present Day...
Rain fell against the windshield of the parked ‘94 Lincoln as it sat in the back of the grocery store parking lot away from customers and light. Inside the car two men, Conrad and Marcus, sat contemplating their fates and what one of them had done. Conrad, the younger of the two, looked out through the splattered rain drops into the night sky. He wanted to confess something they both knew. He wanted to say it even though it didn’t seem rational.
There had been minutes of silence between them after Marcus had picked him up and driven him to the lot. Marcus had been a mentor and his lover for over two years. He was a strong man, tough and unsympathetic. He had decried sentimentality and empathy on a regular basis. And Conrad was afraid how the man would react.
“Marcus, I shot someone,” Conrad said.
When Marcus didn’t respond he looked to the older man who sat next to him blowing smoke out of the partially open window. Marcus knocked ash onto the floor. He stroked his beard, scratched at his throat as if he were massaging the words there.
“Tell me about it,” Marcus said.
“I was over at Tina’s. It was early morning so no one was there. I was playing 9-Ball alone just to hone my skills. I had been up a few days snorting Ritalin and whatever else so I was scratching and getting frustrated. I was lining up a shot and not paying attention, bam, he blindsides me.”
Conrad thought about the way the enforcer hit him, lifted him from the ground and sent him flying into a nearby table, the feeling of the edge against his back, falling to the ground, and the way the carpet felt on his hands. He shook off the memory.
“I look up and it’s Dylan. He never liked me and he’s got this look in his eye because for once he’s justified to kick the shit out of me.”
“But how did you get mixed up with that sadistic bastard?” Marcus asked.
“He had that pharmaceutical connection. I thought it would be easy money. Everyone at the clubs and parties wants the pills because they know it’s uncut and high quality and I knew I could overcharge them. It would be a hustle but still it would be worth it. The weed from you was good but this was... I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s your life. You were being an entrepreneur.”
“Anyway, he’s on me but it’s like he’s toying with me. That was the worst part. I’m saying anything I can to get him to stop. I say, ‘I’ll do anything’ and he laughs at me. He tells me he had a bet that I’d try to bribe him with sex and how fags were good earners but could never be real members.
“I start to get to my knees but I’m dizzy and he grabs hold of my hair, I fall against him. He starts laughing. That’s when I got my gun from the ankle holster and I press the barrel up into his balls. Fucker turned white as a ghost, he was scared of me or some freak accident.
“I had him good. He lets me go and backs away. I get to my feet but stagger. He moves like he’s coming at me but there’s too much distance and I steady myself. I can feel as I look at him, this maggot is mine.”
“You shot him?”
“No, not like that. I was ready to let him go. I just wanted some sleep. He starts saying things like how this isn’t over and how I owe money, and how the next time he sees me it’s personal, that he’ll take my head off and let guys use it for a toilet. It all felt so weird. I knew what I was doing but I don’t know. He says to me, ‘Next time I-’ and that’s when I pointed my gun at his chest.
“He held out his hand and you know the funny thing is that I shot it. I shot his hand. I’ve barely used a gun but it just popped up, bam. I see him start to go weak but I’m thinking I have to finish this so I shoot at him. One shot hits the wall, another hits some glass, and I’m panicking so I close on him and bam, bam, he’s down and out.”
Marcus sat in the passenger seat slowly nodding.
“What do I do now?”
“Now you run,” Marcus said.
“What? Why? No one else saw me. Did they?”
“Some waitress named Brenda saw the whole thing from behind the door. She called the police, said you shot him in cold blood. The police have a sketch of your face and a description. They don’t know your name but they’ll probably find fingerprints. The Brotherhood got to her after that which is how I know. I heard it from her directly, and they know your name. They’re coming after you.”
“Even you?”
Marcus gave him a look and Conrad let out a nervous laugh.
“I care about you but this can’t be fixed. You have to get out of this city and start over somewhere. You can’t go home and you can’t go to any relative’s place. Drive out to the West Coast and get lost there.”
“What about us?”
“Maybe one day, when I retire or maybe I can meet up with you sometime, somewhere on a vacation but you know everything I do is with the club.”
“I’ll be alone,” he said. He didn’t know if he loved the man. He didn’t believe in love. But he did need the man. He could rely on him.
Some part of him wanted to be just cold and calculating. Some part of him wanted to believe Marcus cared. He wanted to believe it wasn’t a facade like when he pretended to be tough and when he pretended to be straight. He had to find out. He had to make the man feel something for him. He winced and looked to his hands. He felt like he could cry but he knew that would be too weak to Marcus. He had to have strength enough to hold the tears back.
“Do you have enough?”
“I’ve got a little of what I was selling, some cash I was going to pay him, a few things but nothing of real value.”
Marcus reached into the breast pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a roll of bills wrapped in rubber bands. The wad had been stuck together for some time and was old and not bills recently taken from a cash machine.
“There’s three grand there in small bills mostly. That’s the best I can come up with right now from my squirrel fund.”
“I need more than this,” Conrad said. “I can’t live like I did before when I was on the street. I can’t go back to that.”
“Do you have some place you can stay for a while? I can get you some more money unless you find some of your own.”
Conrad slouched in his seat as he tried to think over his friends in life, someone the police and the gang wouldn’t know about, couldn’t find through a simple background check. There was one name that came to mind, they had been close once for a brief time but never stayed in contact. It would be easy enough to track him down.
“Yeah, I might know someone,” Conrad said.
“Good, take the car and drive out now, as far as you can. No one knows what you’re driving so don’t get panicked. You find a place off the main road somewhere and crash for a few days to sleep this off. We’ll stay in contact through my second burner phone, no one knows about it.”
“This guy, he lives-”
Marcus silenced him with a finger.
“I don’t want to know where. You need to get safe, let this blow over, and I’ll contact you.”
“Thank you,” Conrad said.
“Come here,” Marcus replied.
Conrad leaned over to hug Marcus but was lifted to his lap where they embraced and kissed as the older man ran his hands under the younger man’s shirt to his shoulder blades where he grasped at the skin there.
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Act Your Age Ch 03 - Tucker
Simon, a directionless 20 year old
living with his parents and attending community college, is sitting on
his porch one lazy day when he spots Grant a new next door neighbor.
Grant is handsome, older, and successful. Simon is attracted to the
older man, wants to start a relationship but Grant has just gotten out
of a long-term relationship with a man and isn’t ready for commitment.
Worse, he sees Simon as too young, too impulsive, and misbehaved, but when Simon won’t give up Grant challenges him to a little discipline.
After we got home from visiting Grant my parents went straight to their bedroom as it was close to their bedtime. I went to my room, locked my door, stripped down, and jerked off to some porn trying to make myself feel better after what felt like a disastrous experience. The man possibly could have been my father, well if he had me as a teen probably. He had a career, his own business. And I had my parents, my childhood bedroom, and a community college. I stayed up until three in the morning to finish my homework and made sure my alarm was set so I could get a good six hours of sleep. I woke the next morning still thinking about him. I knew that I needed to get to know him, spend more time with him.
I was under prepared for class and I hid it as well as I could. I sat through the lecture taking minimum notes. I found myself doodling in my notebook. It wasn’t a heart or our names but close because I found myself thinking about him, about us. He had a certain something. There had been other men, young men, who caught my attention but he was somehow more realistic. He was my neighbor not a classmate or some stranger. I was thinking about a distraction when I remembered Tucker.
Tucker was usually up for anything. He was my fuck buddy from campus, a fellow community college student. I texted him that I would be interested in meeting up at the end of the day and he said he was interested but that I’d have to behave myself so I promised I would. The last few times we had attempted to get together I drank too much beforehand and he wouldn’t have sex because he said I was like a corpse.
We met in the parking lot by his car. He was dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt that clung to his muscled chest. I knew better than to ask to stop at the liquor store or to smoke around him. It was a short drive off campus to an apartment complex on the other side of town. It was a place that mostly rented to students and was always trying to screw them over, ten or twelve month contracts instead of eight or nine, not keeping up with maintenance and security, but that meant they also had a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy when it came to drugs and parties as long as the cops didn’t get involved.
I followed him to his place, a loft five floors up, and towards the back. When we got inside I was ready to go but he had other priorities. He got pizza and beer from the refrigerator and went to the couch where he opened two bottles and offered me one as well as some pizza. I sat beside him. He turned on the television. I looked to his face to try and detect any kind of break in his facade but he didn’t notice me. He sat back and was at ease as he ate and drank.
Biting my lip I reached to his thigh, moved my hand up to his crotch, and that’s when I saw a little smile. He was playing with me. I wanted to feel someone so I reached for his buckle and undid his belt. He showed no signs of resistance so I undid his jeans and opened the fly. His hard cock strained against his boxers. I tucked his underwear under his balls and his dick stuck out into the air. He continued to eat and pretend like I wasn’t there so I went for it. I put my lips down to the bulbous head and began to nip at it.
As my lips became more lubricated with my spit I licked down to his balls where I could smell his crotch. It was a musk of sweat from casual, daily routines but was otherwise clean. I worked on his balls, let his cock rub against the side of my face, my cheek. My tongue pressed between them until I could taste a saltier flavor, then I worked my way back up his dick. He had long ago finished eating but it was then that his free hand moved to the back of my head and guided me to the end of his dick. I took him easily in my mouth, went halfway down on him and I heard him moan. My own dick strained in my underwear, in my jeans and I wanted to free it. I could feel it slipping around between my thighs.
I started to get up, push myself away, but he stopped me and pulled me back down until I could feel him in my throat and I began to choke. Saliva gathered in my mouth and ran from my lips over his balls and into his underwear. He let me up to breath and as I pulled away a string of spit ran from my lips to his dick. I looked up to him and he smiled down at me.
“Keep looking up,” he said before pulling me back down.
I tried to look up at him but it was difficult and my gaze was lost as my nose was buried in his pubic hair again. He knew that I liked it rough. He knew that I liked a little bit of denial, that’s why he wasn’t letting me attend to myself. I sucked with everything I had because I knew it wasn’t the last time that night we’d be able to have sex.
He worked my face and I worked his dick until his underwear was wet and cold as it grazed against my chin. I knew he had stamina and was ready to give up when he told me to get in front of him on my knees. I did so without question while still trying to keep him in my mouth. It was almost impossible. I was ready to start bobbing when he stopped me and pushed me back a little. I looked up to him with disappointment and fear but was pleased when I realized he did that only to get my shirt off. He pulled it up over my arms and tossed it aside, set his beer down, and took hold of my head with both hands. He pulled me back down over his dick. I surrendered to the feeling. It was just a few more seconds before he ejaculated into my throat, into my mouth, and then on my face. My eyes were closed with anticipation as I felt it cover me he laughed a little as it got in my hair and on my left eye.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, “let me get a towel.”
I opened my right eye and laughed with him a little before I went back to his dick and sucked some more to get every last sensation and then I pulled myself away and waited. He got up from the couch and retrieved a towel. He wiped the cooled ejaculate from my face and I could finally open both of my eyes. He pulled off his shirt and invited me to take a shower with him. I got up to my feet, stripped out of my clothes. My boxers were stained and gooey. I left them out a little to breath before taking off my socks.
By the time I made it to his bathroom he was naked. I took in the sight of his butt and the way his back arched a little extra as if putting his rear end on display. It wasn’t something that might normally by noticed but naked it was apparent. It made his stomach stick out a little in front but not in a fat way. It was a kind of cute deformation. He raised his eyebrows at me and I just shook my head.
We got inside the shower and cleaned each other and ourselves thoroughly for slightly different reasons. He liked to be rimmed and I liked to be fucked. As we were getting out he smacked me on the ass playfully so I hit him back on his ass. That started a wrestling match between us until we realized how dangerous it was in the bathroom so we moved to the bedroom with a quick run, our cocks flopping about as we laughed.
At the bed he took me from behind and put me in a full-nelson. I gave in to his strength and rested my body against his. I knew it wouldn’t be for long because I felt his dick rubbing between my ass cheeks. He proved me wrong when he pushed me onto the bed and I felt his body pushing down on mine. His feet went to my ankles and he worked them around until he could pull my legs apart. His dick more fully in the crack of my ass. I wanted him. I maneuvered my face up from the bed to breath and be able to speak.
“I give, I give,” I said.
“Ready to get fucked?” he asked.
He applied tension that made me moan in pain. He knew I liked it a little rough. I let him work me for a moment before I spoke again.
“Yes, yes, I’m ready. I want your dick. Fuck me.”
He released me and got up to his knees which were on either side of my body. He grabbed my ass cheeks. I felt his nails rake my flesh. He parted them and spat into me. Spanked them playfully again, once on each cheek, then jiggled them. My nipples were hard against the bed sheet that I tried to grip in my hands. I looked over my shoulder and he was rubbing his dick. He smiled to me.
“Are you going to use protection?” I asked.
“Do you want me to?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“You can trust me. I don’t fuck around, just you and my boyfriend.”
“You have a boyfriend?” I asked.
“Well, yeah, kind of, I mean it’s not serious.”
Some part of me wanted to demand he use a condom but I felt worried that he’d lose interest. I worried that I’d ruin the moment. How could HIV be here anyway? I lived in a small town. He’d have to have fucked someone who fucked someone...
“Just pull out,” I said.
He leaned down over me and kissed at my neck as I turned back to the bed. We had sex before with and without condoms and I didn’t have anything yet. He licked down my back, pried apart my cheeks, and licked at my hole. His tongue worked inside me a little causing a pleasure unlike any other that made me pull on the sheet. He licked, kissed, and spit until I was lubricated enough to push in one, then two fingers. I relaxed and let myself open for him, raised my hips from the mattress. It wasn’t long until he began to press his dick against me.
There was pressure as he held his dick there. He pushed in a little then pulled out. He smacked my hole a few times to keep the blood flowing. I felt him enter me again. He worked inch by inch back and forth until he was inside of me. I felt parts of me like I only felt when I was getting fucked. I could feel the inside of myself and my body were so far apart even though they were the same body. He worked me until we were both sweating. He licked at my neck. We kissed. But I didn’t get to move to any other position. He liked me on all fours.
I did my best to play with myself but as he got more into it and was thrusting harder I was barely able to keep myself up. Finally, he pulled from me and I knew what was next as I felt his ejaculate hit my back I let out a sigh and reached for my own dick. I jacked it as fast as I could until I orgasmed and shot down onto the sheet. He lay down against me, kissed me, then rolled off onto his back. He let out an excited, nervous laugh. I felt ridiculous there with my ass in the air so I got off the bed and went to the bathroom where I got in the shower.
******
After we fucked a second time I went back into the living room where I poured myself a drink from a bottle of Scotch he kept in a kitchen cabinet and lit a cigarette. He came out from the bedroom as soon as he smelled it.
“You can’t smoke in here. Go out on the balcony,” he said.
I poured myself some more, got up, and went out onto the balcony. It was an old metal topless cage stuck to the side of a building. It didn’t feel safe but I didn’t have a choice. I looked around at the other windows, other balconies, and out to the parking lot where I could see cars illuminated by large, overhead bulbs. In a few places there were red lights inside the car warning burglars of an alarm system.
That night I couldn’t sleep. I wanted him to take me home but felt stupid for asking. I spent most of the night on his balcony drinking and smoking in my underwear. No one saw me. Eventually I got my books for class and did some homework. I passed out on his couch with a book on my chest and a shot left in my glass.
I woke up, saw my drink, and downed it. He was up at nearly the same time but was dressed for class. He asked if I was going and I told him I didn’t have anything. He asked if I wanted a lift back to campus and I asked if he’d take me home if I just waited around. Really, I wanted to drink more. He said he would take me home when he got back. I showered, and feeling hungover with no prospects for the day except wait for him to return from class I decided to indulge in my two favorite things. I made myself a bloody marry and went out on his deck to smoke. The bloody marry became vodka on the rocks, and eventually just vodka. I smoked most of my pack. I was fucked up by the time he got back. I could tell he didn’t want anything to do with me and suggested he drive me home.
The car ride was pleasant but I was feeling wasted by the time we got to my house. I didn’t want to show weakness to him so I got out and walked up to the porch using my cane. He drove away by the time I got to my door. My parents were at work and the front door was locked. I reached into my pocket for my keys, fumbled with them and dropped them making a big thud. I laughed at myself and bent down to pick them up but lost my balance and fell on my ass. I was enjoying my misfortune when I saw someone at the foot of the steps watching me.
It was Grant. He didn’t look happy. He stared at me for a long time and I was about to say something when I stopped myself. I was feeling too good, everything was moving slow. I knew if someone recorded me that it would be me who was sluggish.
“Need help?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
He moved to me and squatted, took hold of my armpit and told me I’d have to help him get myself to my feet. I smiled at him. He counted to three and I tried but my feet were like squid legs, drunken squid legs. He let out a sigh and picked up my keys, unlocked the door and pushed it open before he moved back to me. This time when he squatted he put one arm under my knees and the other at my back. He lifted me from the ground and stepped into the house.
“We’re like a married couple,” I said.
“Can I just put you on the couch or do you want to go upstairs?”
“Upstairs, upstairs,” I said.
“Do you want me to set you down?”
“No,” I said.
He let out a sigh and adjusted my weight before he continued through the house, up the stairs, and to my room. I turned the handle of the door to my room and he pushed it with his foot, and carried me to my bed. He set me down.
“Are you going to be okay?”
I tried to speak but my voice failed me.
“I better roll you onto your stomach,” he said.
He rolled me and I thought about my cigarettes in my breast pocket being squashed under me but there was nothing I could do. I smiled to myself and everything went black.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Shadow's Night Promotional
After shooting a man while on a bender of drugs he was supposed to sell Conrad flees the city and goes to a place where he believes no one will find him, the home of Simon Winters, an old cellmate from his years in juvenile detention. But he knows he can’t stay for long and Conrad’s greed inadvertently causes Simon to confront his past and his life in a small town where memories run deep. How will Simon survive Conrad’s path to darkness?
Sample Chapters: ch 1 - http://queerwordsmakestories.blogspot.com/2014/05/shadows-night-prologue-going-home.html
ch 2 - http://queerwordsmakestories.blogspot.com/2014/05/shadows-night-unpublished-excerpt.html
ch 3 - http://queerwordsmakestories.blogspot.com/2014/05/shadows-night-excerpt-unpublished.html
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Shadow's Night - Prologue Going Home (Excerpt, Unpublished)
After shooting a man while on a bender of drugs he was supposed to sell Conrad flees the city and goes to a place where he believes no one will find him, the home of Simon Winters, an old cellmate from his years in juvenile detention. But he knows he can’t stay for long and Conrad’s greed inadvertently causes Simon to confront his past and his life in a small town where memories run deep. How will Simon survive Conrad’s path to darkness?
Eight years ago...
They’re going to remember me, Simon thought as he walked out of his high school headed home, anyone messes with me they’re going to remember it. I might not be big, I might not be strong, but if I have to fight, if it comes down to it, then I will scar them in some way, I don’t even have to win, just leave them with something so they remember. He thumbed the knife in his pocket. His jaw was tight and shoulders raised.
The school year had started easily and he was looking for a new start after the summer he had but over the last few weeks, intermittently, a group of boys, led by his new archenemy Josh, had begun teasing him. The first time he had mistakenly thought as they drove by and honked the horn it was some kind of hello and he had even, foolishly, waved back but he regretted that the next day and successive days when they would pass. They honked at him, yelled at him, threatened him, and even tried to swing at him with their hands and a baseball bat.
That was bad enough, but then it became something else as he passed Josh’s house. He hated that house. That house had been the site of his great embarrassment just that summer. The year before he had become infatuated with Josh’s sister Lucy who was in the same grade. He thought it was mutual. She flirted with him every time they were together, more when they were alone. She had been flirtatious and he had been awkward. She would touch and rub against him. He wanted her badly and had even asked her out but she politely refused.
It started with an impulse to see her, maybe something romantic like throwing stones at her window. It was easy to find but he didn’t have the courage. However, he found that sometimes, especially if he waited long enough he could see her undress.
It was his secret until his mother followed him one night. He was in the darkness with one hand down inside his pants waiting to see her again. His mother was quiet, or else he was too absorbed, but she grabbed him from behind. He let out a scream of panic that became screams of pain as she struck him. The neighbors opened their front doors. Lucy came to the window. His mother pulled him to their front lawn. By then Josh and his father were on the front porch. He remembered Josh was in his boxers and for a moment he wasn’t sure who should be more embarrassed.
He thought for a moment his mother would make him apologize but she didn’t. She dragged him away and back to their home, made him bare himself, then spanked him with the belt that had been left hanging in his father’s office. He felt as if his sin, his mischievous act, had been beaten from him that night as the pain was burned into his flesh.
Sometimes he wanted to try and rub that pain as he passed by the house except he was usually too distracted by Josh and his friends. Sometimes he thought they would run out and chase after him but one of the boys had another idea. They got eggs. It became a sporting event. Any day they got back before he passed they would throw eggs at him, only once coming close enough to get splatter on his pant cuff. He started to think about a day when it got worse. He said something, they said something, or maybe they thought of something else.
It was the same as the time before when boys in his same grade made him take off his jeans and hand them over after school. He had to walk the rest of the way in a pair of white briefs, trying to cover himself with his hands and shirt, sneaking through yards if he could but risking double the exposure. The old people in the neighborhood watched their yards like a hawk ready to confront anyone who dared cross their manicured, green lawns. He managed to sneak inside and up to his room without his mother noticing and he thought it was over. The next day at school all his classmates knew. Most didn’t say anything directly, just whispered behind his back, but others, other boys, they teased him, especially in the locker room. Eventually the principal found out and confronted the boys, making Simon recount the incident in front of them. The boys were threatened with suspension and his mother was told but little else came of it. His mother only tried to console him when he got home.
But he vowed to himself that it was a once in a lifetime event. He would only be humiliated like that once. The next time someone might get over on him, beat him, strip him, but he would fight and he would mark them, leave a scar in some way. He ran his thumb over the backside of the blade enjoying the feel of the blunt edge of the metal. He had one plan for how to react. He wasn’t going to flash it. He wasn’t going to threaten them. His advantage was that they thought they had the upper hand.
He walked along the familiar route, head down. The boys’ car passed him. He felt a lump in his throat. He got within 100 yards and for a moment he thought about trying to go some other way, but they’ll know I’m chicken, he thought, so he continued on. He walked steadily as he usually did.
Even when they threw the eggs he didn’t try to jump around and dodge them. He let them hit as they usually did, but then he found himself doing something else. He turned and gave them the finger. It was a motion, a gesture that he felt ripped him from path in space and time, pulled him into some intangible present. The boys yelled and taunted, grabbed at their crotches and flipped him off. But he didn’t walk away. He stood there for everyone to see, all the neighbors. The boys began to call for him, invite him, and feeling half-possessed he walked in their direction. He took his hand from his pocket as he stepped onto the grass.
“Come on pervert,” Josh yelled.
He didn’t want to fight them, not really. He wanted them to stop. He wanted to confront them. He was the new cowboy in town and they were the bad guys. He paid little attention to anything else, just them, but especially Josh. He didn’t notice the grass, the birds in the trees, a bright blue sky, an airplane passing over, just them. He got within ten feet and stopped. There were five of them and Lucy, she was on the porch. Had she organized this as some revenge?
“What do you want pervert?” Josh asked.
“I want you to stop,” Simon said.
Josh mocked him, adding an extra lisp to the phrase. Everyone laughed.
“Quit it,” Simon said.
“Or what?”
“It’s not right,” Simon said.
“Why don’t you walk away so we can have some more practice,” Josh said. “We still have about a half dozen eggs that needs used.”
“No.”
“What did you say? I’m giving you a chance to walk away from this. You don’t want me to kick the living shit out of you. I’ll do it. I will beat you senseless, maybe pull off your faggot clothes, make you walk home naked. Post some pictures of that on the internet, spank your ass.”
“You’re a moron,” Simon replied. “You sound like a faggot talking about pulling off my clothes and spanking me. Is that what your dad does before bed?”
He didn’t know where the last sentence came from, his skin burned from the intensity of it. He had crossed over another threshold. There was no going back. He thought to run away, but when he looked for a path, a direction out, Josh was too close, they all were.
“My boys here are going to kick your ass,” he said.
Simon stepped back but readied himself.
“Your boys? You need boys? Are you too much of a faggot to fight me alone?”
Josh pulled at his shirt, up over his shoulders and off, threw it to one of his friends. Several years older he had been going to the gym regularly. His muscles were impressive, if not intimidating.
“Do you like this faggot?”
“Leave me alone,” Simon said.
“Or what?”
Josh’s friends began to circle him and Simon dropped his back pack to the ground beside his feet, stepped away so he wouldn’t get caught on it. He stared at Josh but was wary of the young man’s friends so he kept his attention open, ready for any move. But the friends didn’t act, they weren’t ready to participate. They wanted a show, a performance of Josh beating Simon. He readied himself by raising himself on the balls of his feet. He noticed Josh was more flat footed, over confident.
When Josh moved to grab him he let himself be over taken but grappled back a little trying to hold him enough, slow him down. He wasn’t prepared for the blows to his back, his sides, his face. Punches and slaps meant to embarrass not severely harm, not initially. Josh tried to manipulate him into a headlock, a chokehold, but he fought back, escaped. They circled each other. Simon didn’t throw one punch. He knew he couldn’t get past the long arms and guard of his opponent. He waited until they were locked up again before he tried his one move by pulling Josh to the ground. It was a Judo move he had read about. He didn’t expect it to work. He fell atop Josh who was quick to roll with him until he was on top.
“I’m going to fucking tear off your head and shit down your neck,” Josh said between grunts. He grabbed at Simon’s arms, his wrists, but Simon had one last move. He reached for his pocket. “I’m going to mess you up.”
Josh didn’t notice. He laughed as he slapped and toyed with his prey. It was the opening Simon needed as he pulled his knife out. He flicked open the quick action blade and stabbed up into Josh’s soft belly. He was surprised by the feeling of it, the moment when it hit and went straight into him, then when it stopped.
Warm blood ran down over his hand, onto his shirt, he could feel it against his skin. “What the hell?” Josh said. He pulled himself away and Simon held onto the knife. Josh almost got to his feet but fell back on his ass. He looked around before his head hit the green lawn.
“I’ve been stabbed,” he said.
Simon pushed himself away, first he sat up, then he got to his knees. He cleaned the blade of his knife on his jeans, looked to the rest of them, but everyone else was in a panic. Two of the boys were on their phones, Lucy ran to her older brother, grabbed at him. She wailed and cried. He had crossed another threshold. He thought about running home, hiding somewhere. He thought about the attic but there wouldn’t be enough time. He knew he couldn’t hide from this.
Police were being called. No one else wanted to fight. He threw the knife into the dirt before him making it stick up, available for use but also making him unarmed. He didn’t have a choice in what would happen next, he told himself. If Josh lived or died he didn’t have a choice, the past was some violent moment that would pull through the rest of his life. He felt like he wanted to cry but stopped himself. There was no weakness, he had been weak once but never again.
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Eight years ago...
They’re going to remember me, Simon thought as he walked out of his high school headed home, anyone messes with me they’re going to remember it. I might not be big, I might not be strong, but if I have to fight, if it comes down to it, then I will scar them in some way, I don’t even have to win, just leave them with something so they remember. He thumbed the knife in his pocket. His jaw was tight and shoulders raised.
The school year had started easily and he was looking for a new start after the summer he had but over the last few weeks, intermittently, a group of boys, led by his new archenemy Josh, had begun teasing him. The first time he had mistakenly thought as they drove by and honked the horn it was some kind of hello and he had even, foolishly, waved back but he regretted that the next day and successive days when they would pass. They honked at him, yelled at him, threatened him, and even tried to swing at him with their hands and a baseball bat.
That was bad enough, but then it became something else as he passed Josh’s house. He hated that house. That house had been the site of his great embarrassment just that summer. The year before he had become infatuated with Josh’s sister Lucy who was in the same grade. He thought it was mutual. She flirted with him every time they were together, more when they were alone. She had been flirtatious and he had been awkward. She would touch and rub against him. He wanted her badly and had even asked her out but she politely refused.
It started with an impulse to see her, maybe something romantic like throwing stones at her window. It was easy to find but he didn’t have the courage. However, he found that sometimes, especially if he waited long enough he could see her undress.
It was his secret until his mother followed him one night. He was in the darkness with one hand down inside his pants waiting to see her again. His mother was quiet, or else he was too absorbed, but she grabbed him from behind. He let out a scream of panic that became screams of pain as she struck him. The neighbors opened their front doors. Lucy came to the window. His mother pulled him to their front lawn. By then Josh and his father were on the front porch. He remembered Josh was in his boxers and for a moment he wasn’t sure who should be more embarrassed.
He thought for a moment his mother would make him apologize but she didn’t. She dragged him away and back to their home, made him bare himself, then spanked him with the belt that had been left hanging in his father’s office. He felt as if his sin, his mischievous act, had been beaten from him that night as the pain was burned into his flesh.
Sometimes he wanted to try and rub that pain as he passed by the house except he was usually too distracted by Josh and his friends. Sometimes he thought they would run out and chase after him but one of the boys had another idea. They got eggs. It became a sporting event. Any day they got back before he passed they would throw eggs at him, only once coming close enough to get splatter on his pant cuff. He started to think about a day when it got worse. He said something, they said something, or maybe they thought of something else.
It was the same as the time before when boys in his same grade made him take off his jeans and hand them over after school. He had to walk the rest of the way in a pair of white briefs, trying to cover himself with his hands and shirt, sneaking through yards if he could but risking double the exposure. The old people in the neighborhood watched their yards like a hawk ready to confront anyone who dared cross their manicured, green lawns. He managed to sneak inside and up to his room without his mother noticing and he thought it was over. The next day at school all his classmates knew. Most didn’t say anything directly, just whispered behind his back, but others, other boys, they teased him, especially in the locker room. Eventually the principal found out and confronted the boys, making Simon recount the incident in front of them. The boys were threatened with suspension and his mother was told but little else came of it. His mother only tried to console him when he got home.
But he vowed to himself that it was a once in a lifetime event. He would only be humiliated like that once. The next time someone might get over on him, beat him, strip him, but he would fight and he would mark them, leave a scar in some way. He ran his thumb over the backside of the blade enjoying the feel of the blunt edge of the metal. He had one plan for how to react. He wasn’t going to flash it. He wasn’t going to threaten them. His advantage was that they thought they had the upper hand.
He walked along the familiar route, head down. The boys’ car passed him. He felt a lump in his throat. He got within 100 yards and for a moment he thought about trying to go some other way, but they’ll know I’m chicken, he thought, so he continued on. He walked steadily as he usually did.
Even when they threw the eggs he didn’t try to jump around and dodge them. He let them hit as they usually did, but then he found himself doing something else. He turned and gave them the finger. It was a motion, a gesture that he felt ripped him from path in space and time, pulled him into some intangible present. The boys yelled and taunted, grabbed at their crotches and flipped him off. But he didn’t walk away. He stood there for everyone to see, all the neighbors. The boys began to call for him, invite him, and feeling half-possessed he walked in their direction. He took his hand from his pocket as he stepped onto the grass.
“Come on pervert,” Josh yelled.
He didn’t want to fight them, not really. He wanted them to stop. He wanted to confront them. He was the new cowboy in town and they were the bad guys. He paid little attention to anything else, just them, but especially Josh. He didn’t notice the grass, the birds in the trees, a bright blue sky, an airplane passing over, just them. He got within ten feet and stopped. There were five of them and Lucy, she was on the porch. Had she organized this as some revenge?
“What do you want pervert?” Josh asked.
“I want you to stop,” Simon said.
Josh mocked him, adding an extra lisp to the phrase. Everyone laughed.
“Quit it,” Simon said.
“Or what?”
“It’s not right,” Simon said.
“Why don’t you walk away so we can have some more practice,” Josh said. “We still have about a half dozen eggs that needs used.”
“No.”
“What did you say? I’m giving you a chance to walk away from this. You don’t want me to kick the living shit out of you. I’ll do it. I will beat you senseless, maybe pull off your faggot clothes, make you walk home naked. Post some pictures of that on the internet, spank your ass.”
“You’re a moron,” Simon replied. “You sound like a faggot talking about pulling off my clothes and spanking me. Is that what your dad does before bed?”
He didn’t know where the last sentence came from, his skin burned from the intensity of it. He had crossed over another threshold. There was no going back. He thought to run away, but when he looked for a path, a direction out, Josh was too close, they all were.
“My boys here are going to kick your ass,” he said.
Simon stepped back but readied himself.
“Your boys? You need boys? Are you too much of a faggot to fight me alone?”
Josh pulled at his shirt, up over his shoulders and off, threw it to one of his friends. Several years older he had been going to the gym regularly. His muscles were impressive, if not intimidating.
“Do you like this faggot?”
“Leave me alone,” Simon said.
“Or what?”
Josh’s friends began to circle him and Simon dropped his back pack to the ground beside his feet, stepped away so he wouldn’t get caught on it. He stared at Josh but was wary of the young man’s friends so he kept his attention open, ready for any move. But the friends didn’t act, they weren’t ready to participate. They wanted a show, a performance of Josh beating Simon. He readied himself by raising himself on the balls of his feet. He noticed Josh was more flat footed, over confident.
When Josh moved to grab him he let himself be over taken but grappled back a little trying to hold him enough, slow him down. He wasn’t prepared for the blows to his back, his sides, his face. Punches and slaps meant to embarrass not severely harm, not initially. Josh tried to manipulate him into a headlock, a chokehold, but he fought back, escaped. They circled each other. Simon didn’t throw one punch. He knew he couldn’t get past the long arms and guard of his opponent. He waited until they were locked up again before he tried his one move by pulling Josh to the ground. It was a Judo move he had read about. He didn’t expect it to work. He fell atop Josh who was quick to roll with him until he was on top.
“I’m going to fucking tear off your head and shit down your neck,” Josh said between grunts. He grabbed at Simon’s arms, his wrists, but Simon had one last move. He reached for his pocket. “I’m going to mess you up.”
Josh didn’t notice. He laughed as he slapped and toyed with his prey. It was the opening Simon needed as he pulled his knife out. He flicked open the quick action blade and stabbed up into Josh’s soft belly. He was surprised by the feeling of it, the moment when it hit and went straight into him, then when it stopped.
Warm blood ran down over his hand, onto his shirt, he could feel it against his skin. “What the hell?” Josh said. He pulled himself away and Simon held onto the knife. Josh almost got to his feet but fell back on his ass. He looked around before his head hit the green lawn.
“I’ve been stabbed,” he said.
Simon pushed himself away, first he sat up, then he got to his knees. He cleaned the blade of his knife on his jeans, looked to the rest of them, but everyone else was in a panic. Two of the boys were on their phones, Lucy ran to her older brother, grabbed at him. She wailed and cried. He had crossed another threshold. He thought about running home, hiding somewhere. He thought about the attic but there wouldn’t be enough time. He knew he couldn’t hide from this.
Police were being called. No one else wanted to fight. He threw the knife into the dirt before him making it stick up, available for use but also making him unarmed. He didn’t have a choice in what would happen next, he told himself. If Josh lived or died he didn’t have a choice, the past was some violent moment that would pull through the rest of his life. He felt like he wanted to cry but stopped himself. There was no weakness, he had been weak once but never again.
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