Date: Fri, 03 Jun 2005 20:27:56 -0700 From: Joseph Farrin Subject: A BOY IN THE WINDOW Kent and CJ were both friends and neighbors ever since childhood in New York. Now Kent was 25 years old and CJ was 24, both beyond the age that they should have graduated from college but that had never been their intent nor their style and certainly nothing they ever worried about. They had been childhood terrorists, poor students in school and parentless, by reason of death. Kent's parents had died in an automobile accident a month after his graduation from high school. C J was a victim of divorce, raised by grandparents both of whom had died within the past three years, one of cancer and the other of cardiac arrest. Kent is of Swedish parentage and has the tall, blonde, blue eyed good looks of an idealized Nordic male. The most accurate way to describe CJ is to tell you he looks like a young Jude Law. CJ is a nickname that springs from the fact that his full name is Carol Joseph Manning and he hates the Carol part. Their only salvation is that, through inheritance, they are fucking, filthy rich. Salvation has yet to address their both being immature -- they were overgrown teenagers but still very likable. FYI, Kent's full name is Kenneth Andrew Swanson. The two of them spend more time in gay bars or the other's apartment than they do in their own apartment. They celebrated New Years Eve, 2003 in a gay bar and they were damn near killed before the year 2004 was half an hour old by staggering out the bar and jaywalking across the street to hail a taxi. Despite being inebriated, the accident scared a sufficient amount of shit out of both of them to make them realize changes were mandatory in both the way they were squandering their inheritances and wasting their lives. They were both disease free, both were wealthy and, most importantly, they were sexual partners and very much in love with each other. They had every reason to change their lives around. They were also bombed out with New York and decided now was the time to get the hell out of it, kick their bad habits and start making something of themselves. It is a monumental undertaking to pull up all your roots and commence again from square one in an unknown world. At least they had each other. After a month of investigating a number of choices, and still undecided, CJ was intrigued by a classified advertisement in a Sunday "New York Times" for the sale of an antique store in Carlton, Vermont. They didn't know where Carlton was and had to look it up via the Internet. They didn't know anything about managing an antique store but figured they could learn that business as quick as they could a lot of others they could think of. They called the listed phone number and made an appointment for Tuesday at 10 AM and left Monday in CJ's BMW coupe. Kent, like many Manhattan dwellers, had never owned a car - a case of why bother when you have the subway. Carlton turned out to be a small, picturesque village. The antique store was located at 96 Kelly Street, the main drag, in an area of shops that attracted tourists year-round. Tourists were one of the town's main sources of income, along with a small college. The store was located a half block from a free, public parking lot. The husband and wife owners, Bill and Anne Smith, agreed to say on two months to acquaint CJ and Kent with the business, if they so desired. The stock included everything from large pieces of furniture, through rugs, lamps, china and silverware down to small items that you could hold between your thumb and forefinger. Instinct told Kent and CJ that there hadn't been too much interest in buying the business but the asking price was reasonable and gave the seller a $1,000, non- refundable, deposit to hold the store for the for a period of one week. There was no realtor involved. An attorney would handle the sales contract. The reason for the week delay was to look at local housing and they phoned a realtor listed in the yellow pages that turned out to be a woman, who they guessed to be in her late forties. Her name was Adele and she had been born and raised in Carlton. Housing proved to be unbelievably cheap compared to NYC. CJ reasoned that February was not the ideal time to sell a house in Vermont and probably an antique shop, too, as far as that went. After looking at five or six listings Adele showed them a vacant house on Hill Cut Road, just outside town but still in the city limits. They hadn't even gotten out of Adele's car before they were in love with the house. It was an old house, in need of a lot of TLC but held a certain fascination, more so for CJ than Kent. It consisted of a large central hall that ran clear through the house from front to back with a 5 ft. wide stair to the second story and under it a stair to the basement. To the left was a large living room with a masonry fireplace, and to the right a dining room with a kitchen and butler's pantry behind. The upstairs consisted of four bedrooms and a bathroom at the rear of the house accessed from the hall. At the rear was a large patio overlooking the property, which slowed down toward the college, partially orchard, as, noted on the data sheet for the house. Beyond was the Carlton College campus. Standing in the upstairs hall, Adele said that County building permits show the house was built in 1923, the electrical system was complexly rewired in 1965, plumbing and heating were both renewed in 1978 and air conditioning was added a year before the house was listed for sale She added: I don't know if it falls into the category of the Full Disclosure Law, but to be on the safe side, I think I should tell you that local gossip says the house is haunted. CJ seemed as though he hadn't even heard what she said. He replied, "We'll take it." He wrote a check for half the amount and Kent wrote a check for the other half." On the way back to her car, Adele explained that the name Hill Cut Road was graded and named after the Vermont Central Railroad made a cut through the hill for it's right-of-way about 200 feet West of here and that there were only two other houses on the road, a little north of here. As they backed out and headed toward Carlton, CJ turned to look out the rear window for one last look and could have sworn he saw a young, thin, blonde haired boy looking out the front window of the northwest bedroom. CJ guessed the boy to be around 10 years old. After a nap at the motel, a few drinks at a close-by bar and while eating dinner at a restaurant, CJ told Kent what he'd seen, or at least what he thought he'd seen. Kent replied, "Maybe you're getting too much fresh out here in the boonies?" "I'm just saying that's what I thought I saw." "CJ, come down to earth. We went through every room including the basement, looked in every closet and opened every cabinet. The place isn't trashed; it's just dusty, dirty, neglected and needs a lot cleaning and repair. But, did you see any blankets, pillows, food wrappers or other signs that someone was trespassing and occupying the house? Shit, the water has been turned off, there's no heat." "No." That settled, they went back to the bar and had an after dinner Brandy and walked back to the motel; they'd left CJ's BMW at the motel. Kent settled down to TV. CJ said he had a headache and didn't want to take Tylenol because they'd been drinking so he was going for a walk. "Well, take a room key, I'm ready to turn in. Where are you going to walk?" "I'll take the BMW up to the parking lot on Kelly and walk around the business area for a while." Imitating a young girl's voice, Kent said, "Be careful, don't let some cop pick you up, he might want to bring you back to the room and fuck us both." "Don't you wish!" CJ drove slowly up Hill Cut Road. The thickness of the wooded area was more apparent to him than it had been in daylight; maybe he hadn't paid attention. He didn't know just where he was so he deliberately passed the house before pulling off to the side of the road, dousing his headlights and walking back toward the house. Because of the boy in the window, he just had to look at the house again or he'd never go to sleep. It was totally dark but he hung out for five or ten minutes and was just about to go back to the car when he saw a dim light moving around in the upstairs hall and then appearing in the northwest bedroom window. It was the same, boy -- blonde and as skinny as a prison camp detainee yet so beautiful, so angelic looking. It was strange. He felt a strong, caring attachment toward the boy, the ghost, whatever he was. The light in the window went out. CJ walked back to the car. He didn't want to be gone too long. He decided to say nothing to Kent and he didn't sleep a wink all night. In the morning Kent told him he looked like shit and CJ replied he could never sleep in a strange bed. To that Kent replied, "You should have moved over into my bed. I hate these two-bed motel rooms anyway. I missed you." "You were asleep when I came back and I didn't want to disturb you." Kent decided that maybe they should check out the house a little deeper. They had just given the realtor their checks; nothing had been signed as yet. Consequently they spent the morning in the local newspaper's computerized archives, with the help of a newspaper employee, and found that an unaccounted for death had taken place in the house in the spring of 1997 or 7 years ago. The death was of a ten-year-old boy named Nicholas, born in 1987. At the time, Nicholas' parents owned and occupied the house and when Nicholas died Mrs. Burton's 30-year-old cousin, a David Allision from Boston, was visiting Mrs. Burton. The Burtons were awakened around 2AM in the morning by noises and screaming and found Nicholas dead at the foot of the stairs with a broken neck. The police interrogated all of them particularly David as he was kneeling beside Nicholas at the bottom of the stairs when the Burtons ran from their bedroom and turned on a light in the upstairs hall. The police, however, could not build a sufficient case against him to charge him with a crime and accepted that he had heard Nicholas using the bathroom and then scream as he fell down the stairs. It was possible as David's bedroom was at the back of the house adjacent to the bathroom. Consequently they gave up and the death was recorded as an accident' They also found two other disturbing items: The 18-year old son of one occupant had fallen from the 30-foot high edge of the railroad cut onto the railroad line and had been ran over by a train, in the era before passenger service had been discontinued between Montreal, Boston and New York. The other was an out and out, cold blooded, multiple murder. A man had taken his wife and two teenage daughters into the tool shed at the end of the orchard, about a hundred yards to the rear of the house, and shot them, then killed himself in the garage; he'd closed the garage doors, got into the car, started the engine, closed his eyes and waited to die. It had happened in 1929, the year of the stock market crash on Wall Street. By this time, the newspaper employee in charge of the archives was almost like a friend to CJ and Kent and he said, "Three deaths, two on the property one of which was unexplained, seems like a lot for one house but, after all, they were over a span of about 75years and I can testify that quite a few other happy families have lived in that house too. There's a pretty good turn over here, what with teachers coming and going from the college." He had a point and we liked the house. Kent said, "What the hell, were grown men, we can handle a ghost. I guess his name is Nicholas. We can even call him by name and tell him to behave if he gets overbearing." After closing the purchase on the store, they returned to New York and filled the BMW with clothing and CJ's computer. Kent was as interested in computers as he was putting the make on a girl, even one with model, good looks and big boobs. Next they met with an interior decorator in Montpelier but decided to go on their own as regards refurbishing the house. Escrow on the house didn't take long as there was no loan involved. The main, upstairs undertaking was knocking out a wall between the two south bedrooms and adding a bath adjacent to the one in the middle, rear of the house behind the hallway. This would give them a larger master bedroom with a private bath and more closet space. They wanted to concentrate on the upstairs, so they could check out of the motel, get some of their bedroom furniture out of storage and then deal with the first floor afterwards. ********** By mid April they had hired a young, local woman, named Connie as a clerk and after lunch one Saturday took off to look at the house. The upstairs was about finished including painting, wallpapering and new carpeting. Jim, one of the contractor's men told them he had a funny experience to tell them. After he'd finished lunch, he'd wadded up his denim jacket for a pillow and was taking a nap on the carpet in the new, master bedroom. He woke up; his dick was out of his pants, hard and aroused close to the maximum. Jim swore that, if he were not alone in the house, someone had been jacking him off in his sleep. Kent laughed, so did CJ, but CJ had to force his laughter. While Jim was telling his story, dragging it out for maximum effect, CJ saw Nicholas come into the room, walk over and take a hold of his hand and actually felt him holding it. In that instant CJ thought he knew what might have happened on that night in the Burton house in 1993 -- Nicholas had not fallen down the stairs, his cousin, David Allison had pushed him. Why? David was a homophobic. He, like Jim, had awoken from sleep but David had caught Nicholas sucking his cock, he cursed him, Nichols ran and David caught up him at the head of the stairs and pushed him. CJ tried to squeeze Nicholas's hand but it was no longer there. Of course, it was obvious to CJ that the reason Nicholas had entered the room was to communicate to him that it was he who had unzipped Jim's fly and sucked his cock as well as to reveal he had been murdered. Sleeping in the house nights was an improvement over the motel even though the first floor was still being updated and they were still eating at restaurants. CJ began having wet dreams, especially when he was sleeping facing the edge of the bed. Each time he reached climax and wished he could have woken up because he just knew that Nicholas was sucking his cock. A few weeks after moving in, CJ put a note on the bureau while emptying his pockets getting ready for bed. It was something he'd brought home by mistake and had to take back to the office -- a note about an appointment, actually. The next morning he started to pick it up and thought that it was not in the same place as he had placed it. He wondered why and wondered if Nicholas could read. The next night he left another note but he carefully measured the distance of the upper two corners from both the right edge and bottom edge of the bureau. In the morning he measured again and the note was close but not exactly in the same position. Obviously it had been picked up and put back down. So, on the second night, a note was placed it in the approximately same place and read: "Nicholas, if you are able to leave the house during daylight hours, please come to 96 Perry Street, next door to the Bank of New England between noon and 1'oclock. I am trying to find out if you and I can communicate with each other. I want to know because I am very fond of you." He signed it - Love CJ. It was 12:15 PM, CJ was minding the store until Kent and Connie came back from lunch and then he'd go. No one was in the store, and CJ would have been aware if the door had opened as it had a small bell at the top that rang when it did. He was actually a little startled when a ballpoint started rolling back and forth across his desk but looked up and said, "Nicholas?" The ballpoint began to spin instead of rolling back and forth. "Nicholas, are you comfortable at the house? Do you need anything? I'm worried and concerned about you. There was no evident reply and CJ guessed he's screwed up. He'd asked two questions at the same time, so he tried again, realizing Nicholas could only respond with a yes or no type answer. "I'm concerned about you. Do you need anything? If yes, put the pen on the blotter; if no, put it in the jar here with the other pens and pencils." The pen rose and was placed on the blotter. "This is awkward. Do you have anyway to tell me what you want?" CJ became aware that his pants were being unzipped. He had to give Nicholas credit; he didn't need speech to communicate. CJ knew that Nicholas had spoken to him, in his own way. However CJ misjudged Nicholas' full intent, he had not only shown him what he needed but preceded to get it. CJ didn't catch on until he looked down and saw his cock was being taken out of his shorts and the fly of his pants and beginning to erect. He knew why, he was getting a blowjob. "Oh shit, Nicholas that feels so good. God I wish I could see you working on my dick!" He no sooner had the words out of his mouth when he saw Nicolas, a gaunt, but unbelievably pretty little boy holding his cock up with one tiny hand and sucking on it like there was no tomorrow. He reached out and touched the side of Nicholas' head and his long, soft, silken, blonde hair. Nicholas remained visible until CJ had his cum and then he could no longer see him. "Nicholas, that was wonderful! Could we talk a little about your death? Was it an accident or were you murdered?" "Nicholas moved the pen into the now recognized "NO" position. "Why?" Damn, another question that could not be answered with Yes or No. Nicholas became visible just long enough so that CJ could see his hands folded next to his cheek and his eyes closed. CJ knew he was tired. "Can we meet again?" The pen lifted off the blotter and was gently replaced. CJ interpreted it as a yes answer. "Do you know when?" The pen switched back and forth, rapidly from the blotter to the jar. CJ wasn't certain what it meant but guessed that Nicholas didn't know. With that he felt a kiss on his cheek and he knew he'd see Nicholas again even if he didn't know when. "Wait! Can I leave notes?" to which he left a yes and no response." "A new place?" Nicholas gave a yes response. "Let me think". He picked up a stick-up note pad, and stuck it on the lampshade on the desk so Nicholas could see. "I'll reach in your closet and stick in on the wall so nobody can see it unless they step inside and turn around. OK?" Nicholas picked up the pen and, in their code, answered in the affirmative. CJ had another sleepless night. He mulled over everything that had happened and decided he'd been wrong. A homophobic might or might not have pushed Nicholas down the stair just because Nicholas tried to suck his cock. It just seemed too much. Had David had another reason? Mornings right after opening the store were quiet and CJ used the situation to tell Kent everything that had happened up through yesterday. He was afraid Kent would think him crazy but, luckily he was sympathetic to CJ because he sensed he was upset and was trying to help Nicholas. "How do you think you can help?" "I no longer believe Nicholas fell down the stairs, I think he was pushed. I think he was murdered. If I can prove it and the murder is punished, I think Nicholas will be able to leave the house and find peace after all these years." "How long will it take you? What will you be doing and can I help?" "Kent, I haven't the foggiest, but I'll give you a daily update." "You'll still be staying at the house? I don't need to be jealous?" "Of course, silly, we're an item and have been for a long time. Where else would I stay?" Kent pulled CJ over, kissed him and said, "That's all I need to know, sweetheart; get your ass out the door and get started. See you this evening." CJ didn't know where to start, so he made lists of things he thought needed confirming. He titled the first list ASSUMPTIONS and listed: 1. Nicholas can't write. 2. Nicholas' parents and David Allison are no longer alive. 3. Nicholas' death is somehow connected with sex between him and David. 4. Nicholas can make himself visible only to me. The next list was titled NEED TO KNOW and listed: 1. Was Nicholas murdered? 2. Does Nicholas usually confine his actives to night and rest days? 3. Is becoming visible exhausting for him? 4. Is there any record of child molestations by David? 5. Would meetings in the house, at night, be easier for Nicholas? The last was HOW TO PROCEED: 1. Again research newspaper archives. 2. Use an Internet search engine -- attempt to find parents and David. 3. Use library for other Vermont newspapers. 4. Make a hell of a lot of phone calls. In time, CJ found that Nicholas could write. David Allison could not be found in Boston, so his current status was indeterminable. David's father was deceased and he was buried in the cemetery at St. John's Episcopal Church next to Nicholas. His mother could not be traced; she'd possibly remarried. Nicholas could make himself visible to others, but it was easier with CJ because even before he had looked at the house that cold day in February Nicholas knew someone who loved him was coming and he was waiting. The reason he looked out the window that same night was because he couldn't understand why, after CJ had arrived he hadn't stayed. Things are easier for Nicholas at night. He needs to sleep during the day. David Allison had no record of child molestation, at least that CJ could find. David Allison had murdered Nicholas. The reason was not what CJ had envisioned but similar. David had been visiting the Burtons for a week and every chance they had during the day and always at night after his parents had gone to bed, Nicholas had sucked or masturbated David and David had done the same to Nicholas. On the last night of his visit, David became aggressive and told Nicholas he wanted to fuck him. Nicholas was smart enough to realize that getting fucked would hurt, especially by someone as worked up over the idea as David was. Nicholas told him "No". David began to get rough and when he moved to pin Nicholas down on the bed, Nicholas rolled to the other side, jumped out of the bed, ran and made it only as far as the head of the stairs. Falling was the last thing he remembered. The nighttime meetings turned out better for Nicholas but were still exhausting if they lasted too long, especially the one where Nicholas relived his last few minutes alive. CJ had learned a lot but continued his search in trying to locate David. However he took time out more often to have sex with Nicholas as his recounting of his experiences with David led them into different directions. For one thing, CJ had never thought of sucking Nicholas before. Then, one night Nicholas wrote a note asking CJ to take off all his clothes. When he stood up naked, he saw Nicholas out of his pajamas, which was the usual way he appeared. His skinny, pale, 10- year-old body was the perfect specimen of a male child, his little 4-inch, circumcised boner with it's rose bud cockhead pointing straight out from his hairless torso, above his small, marble sized testicles. Nicholas took CJ's hand and pulled down on it. The message was clear. He wanted CJ to suck him off. Things quieted down somewhat until August when the most important discovery to date came totally unexpected. CJ, along with Kent and Nicholas (invisible) were watching CNN on TV one evening while having a cocktail before dinner. The first item on the National News was an announcement that Vermont's junior Senator David Allison of Burlington, Vermont announced he would seek a second term and the local "Republicans for Allison Committee" were sponsoring a fund raising dinner on September 5th in the ball room of the Encore Motel in Burlington, a $5,000 dollar per plate affair. The most current poll shows the Senator to have a strong lead over his Democratic opponent, James Bryant of Rutland. The announcer continued, "This has been a big day for Senator Allison, as Vermont's popular Governor Daniel Reynolds and his wife announced the engagement of their daughter Cynthia to the Senator." Pandemonium broke loose at the "haunted house". CJ hollered, "The fucking bastard moved. No wonder I couldn't find him in Boston." Kent screamed, "Shit, we've got to become more involved in politics. I never pay any attention to what those fucking politicians are doing." Nicholas was so excited that he became visible. He was sitting on CJ's lap and made him made him spill his highball. He kissed CJ then looked at Kent, whose eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, as it was the first time he'd seen Nicholas. He stared, open-mouthed until Nicholas reached over and kissed him too. ********** CJ immediately began making reservations for the Republican dinner and a hotel room at the Encore so he and Nicholas could fuck up David' plan for a second term but Kent nixed it; he insisted that the three of them would go together. It could be dangerous; they were fucking around in national politics. As planned, they arrived a day early, so Nicholas could sleep all day before the dinner. CJ also went to the ball room where the dinner was to be held and looked at it closely as it was being set up for the big event. It wasn't until then that he was able to focus on an exact plan. David would be addressing the group from a small platform, with stairs on each side and flanked along the back wall with American Flags. When he began his speech, Nicholas would become visible to him, standing on the floor in front of the podium, and expose himself. If all hell broke loose, he could become invisible, move and stand at the back of the stage until CJ or Kent were able to go to him and lead him out of the ballroom. Luck prevailed. Because they were first time contributors, they were seated at the second table back from the podium and adjacent to a wide aisle that led to the Encore's lobby. The show was on! David kept raising his hands trying to quiet the applause. Luckily the audience was not large -- between 200 and 300 people. As the applause diminished, David began his line of bullshit -- how honored he was to again be their candidate, etc. He was a few sentences into his goals for his second term when to CJ and Kent it was obvious that Nicholas had become visible only to David as he stood in front of the podium, naked and masturbating his little penis. David stopped speaking in the middle of a sentence, stared into space and then started shouting: "Guards, guards, where's my security? Plainclothes men from the sides of the stage jumped up to the platform, one on each side of David, more ran toward the platform from exits at the back and sides of the ballroom. "Get him, get him, arrest him!" CJ heard one guard shout, "Where is he?" Pointing to the floor in front of the podium, David kept shouting, "Right there! He's a boy, he's naked, he's trying to push me down the stairs!" The voices of David and the plainclothes security men were the only ones to be heard. Everyone else was silent, looking at the spectacle in total disbelief. "He's going to push me down the stairs, he's going to kill me!" Kent was wearing an ear to ear smile, bent over and whispered into CJ's ear: "Boy ghosts posses a lot of clout," The party ended when the two guards on the platform took David by each arm, led him down the stairs, off the podium and out the wide aisle to the lobby doors, passing right by CJ and Kent. There was no panic involved. People just gossiped as they filed out. They all knew that David Allison had, right before their eyes, gone off his rocker. The papers were full of the fund raising dinner. A week later one article said that authorities had located a cousin in Burlington, the only living relative and with the help of the State Attorney General, had David placed in a private sanatorium. The Governor then appointed a prominent Rutland attorney to fill the remainder of David's first term. The article had a picture of the relative; Nicholas said it was his mother. Through the phone company information CJ located and talked to her, telling her the story. >From the details CJ told her, she drove down the following day. She had a photograph of Nicholas and promised CJ she'd have it copied for him. The sad part of the story is that Nicholas had finally worn himself out; he didn't leave any more notes for CJ. It broke CJ up that he had not made it long enough to see his mother again. But his mother, CJ and Kent all went, together, to his gravesite in St. John's cemetery, knelt, said a prayer for Nicholas and cried. When the snap shot arrived, CJ gathered up all of Nicholas' notes and put them in his top bureau drawer and had thee snap shot framed and he placed it on top of his bureau where Nicholas had read the notes he'd left. More importantly, he placed Nicholas in a very special place deep in his heart. THE END THIS IS NOT MY USUAL TYPE OF ADULT-YOUTH STORY. IT IS ONE THAT JUST CAME TO ME AND I HAD TO WRITE IT. IT DOESN'T HAVE A LOT OF SEX IN IT, BUT I'M HOPING SOME ONE ENOYED IT ANYWAY.