WARNING: If it is illegal for you to be reading these stories or you find them disgusting or immoral, please refrain from reading further. Must be 18+ to read! Any characters, places, or people depicted in this story is entirely in the fantasy and imagination of the writer and are in no way meant to portray anyone in real life. Any people, places, or actions depicted in this story that reflect real life events or situations is entirely by accident or coincidence.
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Flip - Chapter One
"As is. Handyman special" the ad said. A whole gallery of pictures was attached. I studied each photo long and carefully before hesitantly making an offer. The house was built in 1920. It was a smallish footprint two-story with two bedrooms and one bath. Ground floor housed the living room and eat-in kitchen; the second floor had a small landing and two equal-sized bedrooms with the bathroom between them. The ad listed it as `rough'. It was a little rough, but honestly, I'd seen worse. I estimated in less than a month I could have it up to my standards. After the closing, I drove on over to the house to get a new owner's look in person.
The yard was enclosed by an old wrought iron fence; each stave was twisted square and came to a decorative point resembling the spade on a playing card. The gate was broken and lay leaning against the fence. It looked like it just needed the hinge repaired; a job for Randy, I thought to myself. The boards on the porch sagged a little too much for my liking as I walked up to the door. I estimated over half of them were ready to snap with too much weight; I mentally added that expense to my list. I fumbled for the key the realtor gave me, but quickly found it was not necessary as the door was standing ajar. I pushed it open and stepped into the living room. The floor was rock-solid soon-to-be-beautiful-again hardwood in here. That would be a plus. The walls were original plaster with a very nice three-inch crown molding ran all around the room.
There was a fireplace in the living room. I ducked my head inside and saw the flue was still in place. I flipped the lever and it seemed to work okay; I'd get Bennie to inspect it and do whatever it needed to be ready for an insert. When I looked at the kitchen l just wrote ROAR (rip out and replace) in my notebook; it would be a project all its own, later. About the only thing I thought I'd keep was the vintage embossed tin ceiling. Moving back into the main room I started up the stairs. The railing on the stairs and the landing was sturdy enough but not my style. I jotted a note to see about replacing or refurbishing that somehow.
I went to the top of the stairs and into the right-hand bedroom. It was decent enough size, although the closet was typical for the time period; which is to say, very small. I was coming out when I heard a noise, but wasn't sure where it was coming from. I went out and softly walked over to the other bedroom. When I pushed the door open my jaw dropped; it looked like a furnished studio apartment. There was a day bed in one corner, an old recliner in another and a complete camp kitchen in another. Obviously, somebody had been squatting here. I noticed the closet door was slightly ajar, walked over and tried to jerk it open. Something or someone was holding it closed from the inside.
"Okay, you might as well come out now" I said to the door. Nothing happened for a minute or so, then the door flew open and a boy in nothing but a raggedy pair of underwear flew past me toward the stairs.
"Seriously!?" I yelled out, "How far do you think you'll make it dressed like that?" He hesitated then stopped in the middle of the staircase as if thinking.
"You gonna call the cops?" The boy asked.
"Come back up and talk to me" I said.
He looked very apprehensive as he slowly started back up the steps with his hands now covering his crotch. The undies probably used to be tight whiteys at one time but were now kind of a dingy beige. I put out my hand offering to shake and when his hands came away from his crotch, I could see crusted stains that confirmed they hadn't seen a washing machine in quite a while, if ever.
"Rafael" I said, "but friends call me Raf."
"Like the ninja turtle" he said, after a pause he said "Ryan".
I looked him over and fussed he must be about 13 to 14-years-old, judging from the thin line of auburn hair above his top lip and the bump in the worn-out briefs. I'm 6'00" so he was around 5'6" or 5'7", he was kind of thin, probably100 pounds or less. The hair on his head was the same beautiful shade of auburn as the thin line of hair over his lip. I wasn't quite sure how to proceed. I motioned him back into the bedroom and he sat down on the bed and I took the old recliner. He looked scared and defeated. I found myself feeling sorry for him.
"Where are you from? Where are your parents?" I asked, "Oh and how old are you?"
"You going to turn me in?" He countered.
"I'm trying to figure that out" I told him.
He clammed up and refused to say anything to me; we sat in silence for a long time, me looking at him and him looking at his bare feet or the floor.
"Okay...tell you what, I promise I'll listen to your side before I do anything. But I can't promise I won't call DHR" I told him, hoping to at least get something out of him. He let out a heavy sigh and began his story.
"Sheffield" he started "south of the river." The house we were currently in was in Florence, so he was only a few miles from `home'.
"I went to Sheffield Junior High last year and was supposed to start high school this year" he said, "I'm 14, to answer your other question, but I'll be 15 in September right after school starts back."
"So, what happened and why are you here? Did you run away from home?" I asked.
"Not exactly" he said.
"What exactly, then?" I asked.
"Well, are you from around here?" He asked.
"Yeah, all my life" I said.
"Okay, do you remember, about 4 months ago, the news story about the couple who got arrested with the rolling meth lab?" He asked. Of course, I did. "My loving momma and daddy. I was at home in bed. When it came time to get ready for school, nobody came to wake me up. After school, nobody was at the house. I started to get scared. Around 4:30 that afternoon a cop showed up with some woman. I hid and stayed as quiet as I could. They left a paper attached to the screen door. After I was sure they were gone I went out to see what it was. It was from DHR, they had come to pick me up to go to foster care. I grabbed what I could get in my backpack and took off."
"Damn, your parents are in prison for..."
"Twenty years, maybe less if they behave" he said surprisingly calmly. It still didn't make sense to me.
"Don't you think foster care would be better than living out of the trash?" I asked credulously?
"No way. It's like being in prison. I had a friend who was a foster kid. The fosters treated him like shit. If you call them, I'll either run away before they can get here" he said very seriously. I decided to turn the conversation to more practical issues.
"How much food do you have, water, that kind of stuff?" I asked him.
"I get by" was all he said. He was obviously a tough kid. I still wasn't sure what to do, but my gut was telling me that I didn't really want to be responsible for this kid being stuck in the system.
"Tell you what, get on some clothes and let's get some lunch" I said, which seemed to brighten his outlook a little.
The jeans and shirt he pulled on didn't look any better than the grungy underwear. We were going by my apartment and then shopping before lunch. It was only 11:18 anyway. We went out and got into my RAV4, I'd only had it a a week or so. It was the first thing I bought with my inheritance from Uncle Stephen.
I was Uncle Stephen's favorite nephew. He always spent both time and money on me. When he was diagnosed with leukemia, I was the only one he would let help him. I sat with him and did whatever he needed until he died. I was devastated. A few weeks later, I got a letter from his attorney. Turns out I was the lone beneficiary to a two-million-dollar insurance policy he had taken out a few years back. His medical bills took some of it, but he'd had good insurance. After closing out all his accounts and buying the RAV4, I still had just under a million which I had diversified several ways to insure I'd always have money to fall back on. Not bad for a 25-year-old college drop out. Uncle Stephen had taught me a variety of things, but finance and flipping houses were his passions. I picked up the one described above, which I was planning to live in, for just over $12k as a cash only, handyman special. I was zoned out thinking about all this stuff as I got near Redfern Apartments. As I turned into the parking lot, Ryan looked confused.
"I thought we were going to go eat?" he asked.
"First things first" I told him, "Believe it or not, I don't really mind the way you smell, but I think it would draw a lot of attention in public." He ducked his head and sniffed his underarm.
"Yeah, I guess I am a little ripe" he said.
"A little...yeah...that's an understatement" I replied.
"These are the only clothes I have, my bag is back at that house" he said, then after thinking about it he said "they're probably as dirty as these anyway."
"No prob, I'll wash them while you get a bath" I said. We went in and I showed him to the bathroom. He gave me the tee shirt and jeans and rancid socks and stood there a minute. I pointed to the last piece of clothing. He turned toward the shower and dropped the briefs then stepped into the tub and pulled the curtain really fast before I could get a look at what he was hiding. I picked up the Fruit of the Looms, complete with brown racing stripe and with the other pieces of stinking cloth, I went to washing machine and started it up.
The cycle was about half-way finished when he came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and sat on the sofa. I remembered I still had half a pan of lasagna in the fridge, it was the frozen stuff but I had a feeling he wouldn't mind.
"Hey, do you like lasagna?" I asked.
"What's that" he asked.
"Do you like spaghetti?"
"Yeah"
"Then you'll like it it, want to try some?"
"Sure, I'm starving" he said.
I cut out a (to me) huge piece and put in the microwave to warm it up.
"Do you want Coke, Dr. Pepper or Mountain Dew?" I asked.
"Mountain Dew" It was my favorite too. The bell on the microwave dinged and I took his plate and a can of Dew to the bar.
When he started to get up on the bar stool, the towel he had on gave up and dropped to the floor. Before he could scramble to pick it up, I saw what he had going on down there. It was a regulation-sized tool for a 14-year-old, about three inches or so and thickness between a roll of nickels and a roll of quarters. The unusual thing was that he was uncut; the skin came to a little nozzle at the end. He had just a little more than a mustache above it, the same auburn color as on his head. His balls were dropped enough I could tell puberty was hitting him pretty hard. I tried to look away before he looked back up, but he knew I'd seen him. He quickly fastened the towel back and sat down - red as a beet. I didn't make a big deal of it, I just shrugged and walked back over to heat my lunch. I stood close to the counter, fighting an impending hard-on.
"Sorry" he said softly, I could almost feel the heat from the blush he had going on.
"Why?" I answered "You didn't plan it. Shit happens."
I let the subject drop again and was eating my smaller portion of lasagna until I realized I wasn't hearing his fork hit the plate anymore. I looked over and the plate almost looked cleaner than when I pulled it out of the cabinet. The way he was eyeing my food, I could tell he was still hungry.
"Want some more?"
"Yeah! It's awesome" he said. It was okay but certainly not that great.
"When's the last time you ate?"
"What's today...Thursday?" I nodded. "Then Tuesday".
"It's on the middle shelf in the fridge, help yourself. You know how to use a microwave?"
"Of course" he said.
In the laundry area I heard the buzzer go off on the dryer and went to retrieve Ryan's clothes. By the time I came back he was settled in for his second helping. The Fruits were a little closer to white, but not true white by any means. He stopped stuffing his mouth long enough to pick up the briefs and pull them on camp style; with the towel still in place. Afterwards he pulled the towel off and sat it on the stool next to him. His little tube made a nice malformation in the cloth of the briefs and my eyes didn't want to break loose.
"Uh, dude?...You okay?"
"Wha...yeah...I just kinda spaced out a minute" I said sheepishly.
"You like guys" he said, not in a mean way or anything, just kind of acknowledging what was self-evident. He'd obviously caught me looking at him, and he hadn't bolted so far. He kept looking over at me between bites, waiting for me to respond. I opted for honesty. If he didn't want to be around a fag, I guessed I could let him go find another empty house.
"Yes, Ryan, I do. Well, to be honest I actually like young guys" I said.
"Were you thinking about me, like, that way?"
"You're definitely my type, but I promise I won't rape you or anything" I said and chuckled.
"Maybe I could stay with you...I could do stuff for food and a place to sleep..." he trailed off. I didn't want him to think he was beholden to me for anything.
"Im just helping you just because I want to help you. You don't owe me anything."
He looked...not sure...kind of a mix of relief and disappointment. Could have been my imagination though. I made up my mind to pay it forward with this kid.
"Look, grocery monster, for now just get dressed and let's go to the store" I said. I was kind of in my feelings about him offering his services to me, but at the same time, I'll have to admit, my crotch was tingling a little.
He pulled on his jeans and tee shirt, then sat and pulled on the stretched out socks and the filthy tennis shoes while I sat the dishes in the sink and ran a little water over them. I'd clean those when we got back.
In all the excitement, I'd forgotten to make my calls about getting things done at the house, so I hooked into the car's bluetooth and set up Bennie and Randy to meet me at the house this weekend while Ryan and I were on the way to Target.
Once inside, I grabbed a buggy and we made our way back to the boys clothing. I had Ryan try on a couple of sizes of jeans; the size 12s fit the best. I put two pair of jeans, a pack of underwear, a pack of socks and several tee shirts in the basket and then we looked at jackets. Despite it being in the 70s for the last week, it was December and it was bound to get cold sometime soon.
After Target, we went around the parking lot to the Shoe Carnival and found some new, non-stinking shoes. He picked out a pair that looked like knock-offs of Merrells. So far, I'd spent nearly $250; it was a pretty good amount but I figured I could stand to lose it if DHR caught up with us and took him away.
I wanted to know what I was getting into so I called my friend Julia at the police department, all on speakerphone, and pumped her for information. I asked her if they found the kid whose parents were arrested on the meth charge. She said they were still looking for him, but they had him down as a runaway and she figured that kid was far, far away by now. Oh, and why did I want to know? I told her I had just been thinking about it and wondering if there were any updates. Julia said the last thing she'd heard was that the female convict had gotten involved in a fight and ended up stabbed to death, but she hadn't heard anything about the male. I winced, now hating the fact that I had the phone on bluetooth. I looked over at Ryan and tears were running down his face. I disconnected the bluetooth and wound down the conversation quickly so I could get off.
"Are you okay?" I asked, but I could tell he was far from okay.
"Why did it have to be momma? Why couldn't it have been Jim, he's the one who got her into all that shit" he blubbered. I couldn't take it; I flipped the turn signal on and pulled into a church parking lot, reached over and pulled him to me. He buried his face into my shoulder and sobbed. I patted his back and rested my chin on the top of his head. A little voice in my head asked What the hell have you gotten yourself into? I was in possession of a minor who was now an orphan.
"Did your mom or dad have any family?" I asked.
"I don't think so. They were both only children. Jim is my step-dad, my real dad was older than mom; he had a heart attack when I was five. My grandmother on mom's side died last year. I guess I got nobody now" he sobbed.
"Well, not exactly" I said, coming to a sudden decision. "You got me."
As soon as he calmed down a little, I pulled out of the lot and headed back to the apartment. When we got in, he asked if he could lie down. I sent him to the bedroom. When I went to check on him a little later, he'd fallen asleep.
I made a quick call to my lawyer and, being vague as I could, asked him how difficult it would be for me to adopt a child. He said, somewhere between extremely difficult and impossible. Being so young myself, being gay, being in Alabama...it would be worse than threading a rope though a needle.
"Oh, okay" I told him "It was just a crazy thought that ran through my head." We hung up and I started formulating plan B. It was after ten thirty and I was exhausted, I went in and crawled in next to Ryan, fully clothed, and fell asleep.
Lambodara 12/08/2022
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