Date: Mon, 11 Feb 2002 12:11:37 -0800 From: Rick Beck Subject: Submit: Billie Joes Journal 10 Billie Joe's Journal Edited by BP. Read my other story, DISCOVERING GREGORY, /nifty/gay/highschool/discovering-gregory/ Chapter 10 Doctors In I used Raymond in the back of the trailer to reassure me that I was alive if not well. While the ice might have helped some, it created a dull ache at the hinge of my jaw. My brain felt like oatmeal and there was no energy to draw upon. Raymond hadn't moved in hours once he had passed out. My mind continued to linger and drift as the trailer warmed to the new day. The proximity of Raymond's body started to make me sweat. It took maybe fifteen minutes for Sven to return with a white bag. He stood five feet away and said nothing as he waited to be acknowledged. I thought the bag contained what would be welcomed sweat rolls for my growling stomach and that and that alone got me away from Raymond. I reached out my hand and he moved toward me holding out the bag for me to take. "You guys okay?" "Yeah! Thanks. These will hit the spot." "Ingmar says you were raped." "Not me. I was belted. Raymond was raped." "I'm sorry!" Sven said. "I'm sorry for your trouble," he looked a bit uncomfortable and his eyes moved from me to Raymond and back. "Ingmar says you are staying with us. I'm Sven and I'm happy to know you." He reached his ordinary sized hand down for our official introduction. "I'm Billie Joe. That's Raymond." "You are safe here. You are welcome here. My uncle is a good man. I will assist you in any way I can." "I know he is. I'm afraid Raymond's pretty much out of it, Sven. He was pretty shook up. It's the first real rest we've gotten in two days. We hid in the woods the first night." "Ingmar will bring the doctor." "Do what?" "Doctor Dan is here. Ingmar is getting him for you. He's a trucker now, but he doctor once." "We don't need a doctor. We'll get over it. Being safe is the nicest thing for us. Tell Ingmar not to go through any expense for us. We're okay." "We'll keep you safe. Ingmar says I should not let you go off without me if he isn't going to be with you. He doesn't want this man coming back for you." "It was eight hours up the road. Hundreds of miles back." "Ingmar says, "careful cases the safety." He's a pretty hard fellow to go against when he makes up his mind. I'm afraid you're in his care for a time. It's best if you just allow him to protect you." "I'm all for it, Sven. I feel better just knowing I don't have to get back out there," I said, looking out toward the Interstate. I watched an older man in a long black coat and carrying a black bag with him climbing into the rear of the trailer. He reminded me of a doctor in a cowboy movie I'd seen. Ingmar was close behind. He immediately dropped his bag at my bare feet and grabbed my face turning it from side to side with a strong rough hand. "Hummm!" he said. "Smile. Show me your teeth. Stick out your tongue. All the way out. Further! Okay. Move your jaw from side to side. No! No! Just chew." "It hurts," I complained. "Chew harder. Chew for god sake. I can guarantee you it won't fall off. Eat a sweet roll." "What?" "You're fine. You can eat a sweat roll and anything else it will tolerate. I'd stay away from anything hard for a day or two." This struck me as funny and I smiled but tried not to laugh as Ingmar mussed my hair and Sven sat close beside me, watching the exam. "Looks like a bad bruise. It's possible it could be cracked but you've got full range of motion. Stand up now and turn around." I held the blanket up in front of me as Sven watched where I put my hand to keep myself under exposed. The doctor yanked the blanket away impatiently and Sven came face to face with my morning erection as the doctor was prying my ass cheeks apart. I felt violated but still managed a smile for a startled Sven. "No! Doctor, the other one is being raped in the hinny," Ingmar advised. "Turn around," the doctor ordered. I just obeyed knowing there was no hiding the awful truth about myself. The doctor grabbed my smooth balls and ignored my persistent protrusion. "Cough. Again. Harder. You're fine. Did he hit you any place beside your face? Everything seems to be working just fine," he said. "He slapped me first. He punched me in the same place after." "Neck pain?" "No, sir." "You might want to sit in front of your friend so we don't scare the shit out of him when we wake him," the doctor said, yanking the blanket off Raymond. Sven held a blanket up in front of me and smiled as he helped me wrap it around me. His hands were warm and his face radiated with a smile after they crossed over my most vital region. I sat down in front of Raymond as he lifted his sleepy head in reaction to the commotion going on around him. He seemed uninspired. "What's the fucking problem. Can't a guy sleep in peace?" "Doctor's in," I said. "Fuck the Doctor. I don't need a fucking doctor. I need some sleep. Go away. Get out of my fucking face." "His jaw seems fine," the doctor said dryly. "No doubt he wasn't hit there." The doctor spread Raymond's ass cheeks wide without ceremony and seemed captivated by what he found. "Bend your knees. Further for god sakes! You boys can't do anything. Further." The doctor was growing impatient. "I can't afford no doctor. Get the fuck off me. Where'd you dig him up?" "I work cheap. Ingmar's buying me breakfast for my services. Don't worry, I was excommunicated years ago, son. No body trusts me but truckers with a dose of the clap or if they're in misery. They don't sue and they're always grateful to acquire my services once they get desperate enough." "I ain't a trucker and I ain't got clap." "Hold them apart like this," the doctor instructed Sven as he went into his back for gauze and antiseptic medication. The doctor worked as he talked. He blotted Raymond's wound carefully with one pad before he applied medication with another. He threw each on the floor when he was done with it. Raymond held both of my hands as the doctor probed him, checking inside to see how deep the damage went. "Jesus. I've felt dick's smaller than that. Who is this guy?" Sven stifled what seemed like an uncomfortable laugh. "Am I ever going to shit again, doc?" "Likely. I doubt you'll want to today once I'm done with you," he said, preparing another gauze pad with more medication. "Here, hold this when I let go." Sven replaced the doctor's hand with his own, holding the gauze pad in place. "It's healing on its own," the doctor said. "This will speed things up." "I told you I didn't need a doctor." "I can get away without stitching. I'll give you some meds so you'll shit soft. That'll save you from feeling like you are passing a brick. Might save you from constipation later. I'll look at it come tomorrow. There's no infection, no serious swelling. I'll leave some pads and meds. Just hold the pads in place for a few minutes at a time every few hours. You've been torn before by the looks of you. You been raped before, son?" "Oh yes." "Well, get Sven to punch you around a little. Break your nose, knock out a few teeth. Might discourage guys from falling in love with your ass hole. Just kidding. Just kidding. I'm not allowed to prescribe any more, but with a face like that, you might consider it. Might save you a lot of grief, and don't get locked up whatever you do. They'll love you to death in the joint." "You been inside?" Raymond asked. "Went down for a spell. Seen ass holes a lot worse than yours. That's just a minor stretch mark compared to how they leave one inside." "It hurts like shit," Raymond said while we stood staring at his butt. "I didn't help it any but we had to make sure he didn't do any damage inside where we can't see. I'll give you some ointment that will take away the pain. Don't be eating no bean burritos. You'll regret it you do." "That pads done, Sven. You can throw it away. Roll over, son." Raymond sat on the blankets while the doctor checked all the equipment. "Left testicle is swollen. Right one might be some. He knee you there?" "I don't know. I was too busy trying to get his dick out of my ass to check his knees." "We'll check you tomorrow. If they stay sore, you might need to have some X-rays. They feel okay. I think you just need a couple days to heal." "Right. You got one of them in your truck or something?" "No. I haven't found a way to do that yet. I'd like to get me one of those MRI machines though. Those are hot. Anyway, you look not too worse for wear. I'm awful hungry Ingmar. Lucky I could finish this job before you fed me. I feel like a double order of something coming on. You bring your wallet now." "If you can't prescribe where's the medicine come from?" Raymond asked. "I'm not allowed to prescribe, son. When someone is in need, there's always a way. The Lord he do provides." "Maybe he provides for you. He ain't never done a damn thing for me," Raymond advised. "Son, how can you be so blind as not to see his gifts. He's provided you with me and Ingmar. I should have checked your eyes. You must need glasses." The doctor had his arm around Ingmar's shoulder as they hoped down off the back. They talked a mile a minute. Sven stood and faced us and didn't moveh. "He take root or something?" Raymond said, looking up at him and talking to me as if he wasn't there. "He's our body guard when Ingmar's not around." "What?" 1 "We work for Ingmar. I hired us on while you had your beauty sleep. He's afraid this guy might be out there looking for us. He says no one will bother us if we are with him. It was an offer I couldn't refuse. I'm afraid I've sold your ass into slavery. You got to load trucks. I get to hold the clipboard and supervise you on account I'm so handsome. You do know about brains over brawn shit, don't you?" "You shit. I don't lift nothing heavier than my coffee cup." "That's fine," Sven said, "He's mostly worried about the little guy. He said he would take you because Billie Joe said you were together." "You said that did you?" "No. What I said is, I don't do labor, and he better take you to do the heavy lifting." "You got something else in that bag I can wear. Those sweats are driving me nuts. I don't have anything to hold 'em up," Raymond said looking at a sweet roll. "I got shorts but you won't have any better luck at holding them up. You ain't got no waist Raymond." "I gave up shorts you might recall. I want to cover myself up some. I'm starting to feel naked all the time," he said, looking at Sven looking at him. "I've got some pants that might work. You'll have to tie the waist up, but they might fit otherwise." Sven went to get Raymond a pair of pants, and Raymond sat naked and waiting. "You okay?" "Shit, horny as hell is all. I kept waking up last night with you up against my ass. I was afraid to do anything. You were driving me nuts. Then that doctor dildo starts playing with me and Lanky is feeling my ass. I had to really work on not getting hard in his hand. Figured it wouldn't be the polite thing to do." "Didn't bother me. Never knew you to be the polite type." "Hanging around with you too long I guess. I'm sorry about last night." "Sorry for what?" "I heard you when you fell asleep." "Heard what." "Fighting that guy again." Raymond held his knees and looked out into the harsh light and back to the floor. He tried to fight back the tears but they ran any way. I didn't know what to do. "I wanted to hold you, but I was afraid," he said. "I'm awful scared, Billie Joe." "Afraid of what. We're okay now." "Just afraid, Billie Joe. The night. The bogeyman. Afraid, afraid." "It's okay. I'm not used to being held. I'll sleep better tonight." "How's about holding me for a few minutes before lanky comes back. I need a good hold here, Billie Joe." I looked at Raymond studying the shadows on the floor. It didn't seem like the same guy I met in Hank's truck just a few days before. Even his expression and the way he carried himself had changed. Holding him made him shiver for a few minutes. He grabbed my arms and held them to his chest. I could only feel him crying. I tried to just be part of the warmth. It did seem to fight back my own demons. I don't know if it did anything for Raymond's. We were lost in our hug when Sven returned. "These might work. They are too small for me now. I don't know why I brought them," he said plodding through the blankets as he held out the pants. "Don't you knock. Guard the outside awhile will yeah," Raymond growled, sitting up as I still lie there behind him. "Sorry. Just thought you wanted.... Sure I'll sit outside. I didn't mean to interrupt anything." "Sven, thanks is what he meant. You'll have to forgive him. His momma dropped him on his head and he ain't been the same since." "Fuck you, Billie Joe." "Are you two really brothers. I mean you... I never seen brothers as close as you." "Shit! I'm tall, beautiful, built like a brick shit house, with flaming red hair, and hung like a pony. He's short, skinny, with mousey brown hair, and a face only a mother could love. You'll have to find out how he's hung on your own. So, what do you think?" Raymond's words were harsh and demeaning. I knew he didn't mean it but Sven knew the harsh words were for him. "I just asked. I'll wait outside for you," Sven said, as he moved out through the blankets. "You sure think a lot of me," I said. "Just a joke, Billie Joe. You know I think a lot of you. You saved my life. I'm just sorry I can't show you how much I like you right now. I want to do that but I can't. And if I could he'd end up watching us. You seen the way he stares at us?" "You say that about everyone. Sven's just helpful." "Right! I know what he wants to help. I want to help you get that look on your face like the one I gave you the other night. You know you're pretty good, but being with someone that likes it is cool. I mean the way you went at it. I knew you liked it. You're really good at what you do. You get way into it." "You're only the second one I did anything to. The first was pretty incredible for me. I guess I learned from Carl." "This Carl. You him like you fucked me? He's a lucky fuck if you did. No wonder he loves you. You have a way of making me believe you love my ass, even if you don't like the rest of me." "Why do you ask questions like that. It isn't none of your business, and I didn't mean to do it to you. It was only because ah the way you show yourself off all the time." "You told me you were attracted to me." "I don't even know what that means, Raymond. There's something about you I like. There's a lot about you that I hate." "Like what do you hate?" "You being an ass hole to everyone. You piss people off. I'm staying with Ingmar. He'll protect me, but if you're going to fuck it up, just leave now. Don't fuck it up for me." "I'm sorry. I don't like getting too close to people. It usually ends up bad for me. You can't trust them, Billie Joe. They tell you they'll do something, like help you, but as soon as they get what they want, it's later for you." "Ingmar isn't like that, Raymond." "I don't know they all mean to be like that, and they don't know how much it hurts to be done like that, but it's easier to get it over with and not expect much of no one. They keep me around until they get what they're after." "Ingmar's won't. He cares about us. He doesn't want anything." "Right, Billie Joe. He cares about us and what he can get out of us and then it's, see yeah later. He's no different. Him and his phony truck driver doctor. I want to lie down. I'm tired now. You can lie with me if you want. Hold me if you want. I know you didn't sleep much either." I woke up with one of the doors shut at the back of the truck. That made it almost dark back where we were. It startled me at first being in the dark, but I could see Sven leaning against it the door talking to someone I couldn't see. A third guy sat at the corner of the open door against another pile of blankets. I put on my shoes and pants and covered Raymond up again. It seemed cooler and there were clouds where the sun had been shinning earlier. I lounged on the blankets and tried to figure out what I wanted to do. "Come up you two. Sleeping too much is not being good. You are doing some working and Ingmar and Sven and Raymond and Billie Joe will be going to dinner. First we are folding the blankets." "Be waking up, Raymond. You are going to be working now," Ingmar said, coming over to us happily. "What? What the fuck," Raymond argued. "I'm sleeping here. Leave me alone." "You are getting up. You are to be working for your supper, Raymond." "Fuck that," Raymond said, pulling the blanket up to cover his head. "Up we are going real easy like," Ingmar said, as he snatched Raymond up to his feet without expending any apparent effort in accomplishing this. "We are having some pants for him. We cannot have him hanging all out that way, Sven?" "Yeah! I brought these for him. He didn't seem too happy about them. Probably not his taste. He doesn't seem happy about much." "He's being very happy. Lean on Ingmar, Raymond. You are being happy? Of course you are." Sven threw the pants to Ingmar who grabbed Raymond's right leg and lifted it while placing the pants under his foot. Raymond started to fall backwards and Ingmar grabbed him with one gigantic hand yanking the pants up on the lifted leg. "You are doing good. Now You're to be lifting the other one. I am holding you. I won't let you fall." "Leave me alone," Raymond said. "Yes, of course. The other leg, Raymond. Be lifting him now. Okay!" Ingmar said triumphantly, yanking the gift pants up over Raymond's hips. "Sven, be cutting off three feets of the rope. We'll be fixing this boy up we will. We have to feed this boy pretty good so he can be keeping up your pants, Sven." "Shit! Got into Sven's pants and didn't even have to work at it," Raymond said, to me, smiling. "He thinks I don't remember he was playing with my ass hole." Sven didn't seem to be nearly as amused by the comment as Raymond was. He looked sour at Raymond like he wanted to hurt him. He was having the same feelings I had when I first met him. Raymond affected people that way. "Only joking, Sven. I don't go for the big dumb type. They all have little dicks and short triggers." Ingmar took that instant to let go of Raymond and he fell flat on his back in the blankets, but it startled the smirk off his face. "We are not being discourteous to one another. We are to be working together. We are to be happy working together. Are you understanding what Ingmar is telling you, Raymond?" "Yeah! You said you was holding me," he objected. "I stopped," Ingmar said, and reached for Raymond's arm, yanking him up off his back and on to his feet. "Now you are to be folding the blankets. We are doing the loading in Bishop in two day and are needing them. Then we are going to Fresno. We will not be making the money on this trip, but the position of our truck will be better for the good run next." "How wonderful for you," Raymond said. "Watch and I'm showing you how to fold. It is simple. In half. In half. In half again. See how easy this is being," Ingmar said, dropping a blanket on the floor before quickly folding another to add. "When the pile is being as tall as your waist, you start one beside it. It is best to be starting in the back and to be keeping the piles against the side." He handed Raymond a blanket as Sven leaned with his arms folded across his chest, watching Raymond with a hard look on his face. I could tell he didn't think Raymond could or would be capable of performing the task. He watched as Ingmar cheerfully folded until there was a pile up to his hip. Raymond made a mess out of the blanket Ingmar handed him. So far it was Ingmar 20 Raymond zip. Ingmar smiled broadly and started on the next pile. Sven leaned, I watched, and Raymond mimicked Ingmar's motions but always came up with something that looked like a mess, piling one mess on top of the last as Ingmar finished a second pile of blankets. Ingmar repeated the process, showing Raymond each time he was folding. Raymond's continued looking like someone was sleeping in them. Ingmar turned to me and started to fold the blanket for me. I folded it precisely as I'd seen him doing. He smiled and patted the top of my head. "You see why Ingmar is asking you to work for him. You learn fast. You are good boy, Billie Joe. We are going to be eating in one hour." Sven and Ingmar headed for the door. "Wait a fucking minute. Let's fold some blankets back here. I ain't no one's nigger slave." "No, Raymond. You are to be folding the blankets. Sven and Ingmar do men's work each day. When you do men's work, you are not to be folding the blankets. Fold! We'll be eating in the hour. We should be making some progress by then, no?" "Thank a you a Billie Joe a. Your a gooda boya," Raymond said in a thick Italian accent loud enough to reach the front of the trailer. "I'll give them a hand Uncle. I don't mind." Sven came back and stood beside me and started folding blankets like a house of fire. He folded three for everyone I folded and five for each of Raymond's alternative version. In ten minutes we were putting a dent in the many piles, mostly thanks to Sven. Raymond grumbled as he careful admired each blanket before tossing it down in a heap. Sven stayed to himself, but he kept watching my folding style. He smiled if I happened to catch his eye. It came to me that he wasn't nineteen or twenty as I'd first thought. He was almost as big as Carl, but thin without the muscles and he had a shy look in his smiling blue eyes. He had none of the confidence of Carl or any of the power of his uncle. I realized Sven was a boy and no older than Raymond. "You do good work. Ingmar's right. You pick things right up. I appreciate the help. I'd be stuck with this if you hadn't come. Ingmar let the other guys go because there isn't any freight. We're on a tight budget." "Less talking and a little more work," Raymond complained. Our piles were neatly stacked against the wall three feet high and we had three stacks along with the two Ingmar had made. Raymond had one stack and it was falling over and the blankets weren't folded well enough for a three foot stack to stand up on it's own. Sven kept looking back over his shoulder monitoring his progress and seeming aggravated at what he was seeing. "You want something?" Raymond asked. "Like what you see? My ass maybe? I felt your fingers checking it all out back there. I know what you want, stretch. You're dreaming of getting your dick up there. Dream on. I don't do geeks." Sven dropped his blanket and charged Raymond. Raymond was busily making another mess and didn't realize Sven was heading his way until he was upon him. There was a look of horror on Raymond's face. He was paralyzed in fear as Sven raised one big foot and launched it at the pile of blankets that Raymond was screwing up. The blankets were launched airborne and some even collided with the ceiling, being kicked with such angry force. They began to float back down to the floor around Raymond like feathers floating to earth. Raymond stood shaking. We all stood silent until Raymond figured things weren't bad enough yet. "What the fuck's your problem, you big dumb Swede? You're going to fold them back up. I'm not folding them again." Suddenly Sven had Raymond by the neck and he moved him until his back was pressing against the wall. Raymond's eyes were round as baseballs. "Ingmar's right. You're a useless shit. You don't want to work and if I tell Ingmar you didn't work, you won't eat on his dime tonight. He'll help you. He'll protect you. He'll give you work. But he don't tolerate no good for nothing lazy dead beats. You better get your ass in gear before I kick it in gear. You getting the picture here?" I grabbed Sven's arm while Raymond was looking terrified and cornered. "He doesn't mean anything, Sven. He's just had it awful hard. People have shit all over him all his life. He don't know what nice people are. Let him go now. He's my friend, Sven. Let him go. Please." "You better learn you'll get a hell of a lot more with being nice than by being an asshole. I'm not a dumb Swede. I'm an American. I graduated high school at sixteen. I start Stanford University in the fall. Uncle Ingmar has let me work for him so I'm able to afford it. Who's the dumb one now, Raymond?" "Let him go, Sven. I know how to do the blankets. You go ahead. We'll finish up. I want you to leave us alone now." "I didn't mean to upset you, Billie Joe. I don't like people saying bad things about me and Ingmar. We're good people. We're honest and we work har. I don't like someone saying otherwise. I don't like him. He's trouble. The quicker you get shed of him, the better off you're going to be." Sven let Raymond go and stepped back, backing away from us. Raymond was shaking as he looked down at the floor. "Go ahead and lie down, Raymond. I'll do the work." "Shit too. I'll do my share." "Not like that. If you aren't going to do it right, let me do it. Just lie down. I'll do it," I said disgusted with him. "You do what you want. That's the last time I take up for you. You stand on your own now. You're done fucking up." Raymond started grabbing blankets and folding them just as Ingmar had instructed. Each one was neat and stacked perfectly on top of the last. I went back to building my own pile. It was less than an hour when Ingmar came back. "Good job Billie Joe and Raymond. Well I'll be damned. Ingmar is pretty damn proud with you. We'll be going to the dinner now. We'll all have a good meal. We can finish these after the eating is done, yes." "I'm not hungry. I want to lie down now," Raymond said. "He's still not feeling good," I apologized, biting my tongue as soon as the words were gone. "He's needing to eat. Food will be making him better plenty quick. I have medication from the doctor will be helping him now." Raymond sat back on the pile of blankets we slept in. Ingmar stepped forward and pulled him up into his arms like a rag doll, laughing at what he had caught. "Raymond is in need of good food, but better yet, he is needing the good people to be caring for him, no. We are eating together Raymond. We are working together, Raymond. We are being a family together, Raymond. We can't eat unless you are eating too." "I'm not hungry," Raymond said, lost in the huge arms that held him gently but close. "Sven is saying you are doing plenty fine job for Ingmar. Sven is good boy. We go to eat now. You are earning the good food. We are being family." "Do we take a shit together, too," Raymond said, as Ingmar walked toward the doors with Raymond under his arm. "We are mostly taking the shit at different times, but if you like to be shitting together, by god Raymond, Ingmar will try to be making you happy. If that's all it takes to put the smile on your face, by god we're going to be okay with you, Raymond. Yes, we're going to be being okay." I couldn't help but laugh as Ingmar made Raymond do exactly what he wanted him to do. Raymond couldn't complain or scowl enough to put Ingmar off. We were being one big happy family all right. At dinner the table was loaded with food and we all ate to our hearts content. "Could I have the sugar, Sven, Please?" Raymond asked politely while looking at Sven's face, when he could easily have reached the white packets. Sven slid the sugar across the table without handing it to him. "Thank you, Sven. Look, I'm sorry for acting like a jerk. It's a bad habit. I did do a good job after you left. Like Ingmar showed me. I did it right. I'm sorry, okay." "You boys are having the trouble? Sven, you are saying they were doing fine job. Am I hearing this wrong?" "Billie Joe was doing fine. I was doing my usual imitation of a fuck up," Raymond said so Sven didn't need to answer his uncle's inquiry. "If I fuck up enough, well, people usually just leave me alone. I can see that's not going to happen with you. I might as well do it right the first time. I'm happy to have the job. Thank you for this meal. It's really good. I guess I was hungry after all." "We are to be working together. Everyone is to be doing his share. Ingmar has no time to be forcing you to be work. Many people would be happy for having the job. Tomorrow you Sven are to be moving the furniture. Billie Joe gets to be folding the blankets. With this you can not be playing the games. If you are wanting the job by god you are having the job." "Together," Raymond said, looking around the table at us. Sven glared and didn't smile. Avoiding Raymond's eyes when they came his way. He seemed to be holding firmly on to his anger. Bjwalkerjr@37.com