Date: Fri, 23 Dec 2005 20:15:56 +0000 (GMT)
From: Dan Perducci <danperducci@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: College Town (Part Two)

College Town (Part Two)
By Dan Perducci
danperducci@yahoo.co.uk

I was startled by the figure that slept in the back seat of my car.  It
wasn't quite the seat, though; he was nestled on the floorboards under
my overturned laundry basket and using my dirty clothing as a makeshift
blanket.

I nudged him with my foot and politely asked why he was in my car.

"I'm sorry," the still groggy teenager said, "I didn't want to go
back home and deal with my dad."

I genuinely did not know what to do next.  He definitely was not going to
go back home but I was not yet ready to interrupt my day for him.

"Hurry up and go to my place," I offered, "I am going to the
Laundromat and will come back when I start my load."

"OK," he grumbled sleepily.

I rearranged my belongings and went about washing my clothes.  The heat
from the laundry room and anxiety over my new charge for the day both
caused me to sweat a lot for such a cool morning.

I was a trusting person but did not know Garrett enough to feel totally
secure with leaving him home with my things.  I decided to forgo chapel
to figure out how to turn him over to his parents without betraying him.

I picked up a newspaper from the rack outside the laundry place and
scrambled back to see how Garrett was doing.

"He's thirteen," I thought to myself, "He can't be up to anything
that bad, now can he?"

My trusting nature gave me a sense of security when I opened my front
door to the smell of something cooking.

I dropped my newspaper next to the door in amazement at the use of my
seldom-used kitchen.

I walked through the living room and gazed in shock at what I saw next.

Garrett, with sandy brown hair and fair skin was standing at the stove
clad in only his boxer shorts.  They were black with a white cobweb
pattern.

"Make yourself at home," I deadpanned.

"Sorry, Chad but I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon.  Do you
want anything?"

He was working industriously at making eggs and bacon.  Neither of which
had, miraculously, reached their expiration dates.

"I'll have whatever you're having," I replied.

"Where are your clothes?" I asked.

"They stink -- being that I slept behind the Coffee Shack on Metcalfe
Ave. the other night.  I got tired of feeling greasy."

At least he kept his boxer shorts on, I thought to myself.

Garrett was finishing up on the eggs when I noticed that his body leaned
up against the stove and he pitched a strange tent in his underwear.

It occurred to me that `morning wood' was not unique to me and probably
was an involuntary way to `salute' the morning.

In the midst of the clanging of spoons, spatulas and pans, I returned to
my living room to read the newspaper.  I had no cable and had only my
paper to connect with current events.

"Do you want to hear about my dad freaking out?" Garrett announced from
the kitchen.

"I'm listening," I said.

"My dad thinks I'm a fag because I was hugging my friend Nick after
school.  I really was nothing.  I mean, it's more like a handshake
except we're closer than that."

"Is your dad right in thinking this?  I mean, there's nothing wrong
with it if you..."

I heard a pan being placed back on the stove and footsteps in my general
direction.

"I really don't know," Garrett told me.  He stood in the dining area
beside my table with a spatula in his hand.

"Excuse me..."

He quickly fumbled with his free hand to tuck his penis back into his
underpants.  It was hanging out briefly enough only for me to notice once
he had tucked it away.

"Thirteen, my ass," I thought to myself in a sense of part shame and
part puckishness.

He tucked himself back in as an act of self-consciousness but in a way
that seemed like he knew he might have an audience.

I only had time to see a minor presence of a blush on his face before he
returned to finish the breakfast.

I was twenty years old and was mildly intrigued by this kid, this
unexpected guest.  Yet, I felt like I was restricted to my own living
room.  I didn't want to intrude by hovering over him in the kitchen.  I
picked up the local news section of my paper and stretched out on my
couch.

"Food's ready," Garrett called out.

I looked at the clock on top of my end table and remembered to load he
dryer.  I told Garrett that I would eat when I came back from the
Laundromat.

"OK, your food will be in the microwave," he said.

I hurried back to look after my clothes because I new sometimes about
people who stole dripping wet clothes from the washing machines to take
home.  My clothes were fine and I put them in the dryer.

Returning was the hard part.

I got out of my car and Brian was somberly leaving for work.

"How's Rachel?"

"She's tore up and can't sleep nor eat.  All I can do for her now is
go to work.  I know...and she knows that it's my fault in a way..."

I paused and was ready to give away their son's location but stopped
myself at that moment.

"I'll keep my eyes opened," I said in a comforting tone.

"Thanks," he said and got into his truck to leave for the gas station.

I reentered my apartment and made a beeline to the kitchen to retrieve my
food.  I could not help but be distracted by the faint sound of my shower
running in the background.

TO BE CONTINUED