Michael and Bobby: Lost and Found
"I can't," the masked boy said, pulling back.
"What?" the leader of the group angrily asked.
"I can't. It's just gross. I'm not into that kind of thing. You proved your point after all, didn't you?"
"Useless coward," the leader coldly replied.
The group was collectively coming to their senses. All but their leader, that is. "I don't want to go to jail for this. My dad's reputation..."
"If you followed the plan," the leader coldly replied, "we wouldn't be worried about that right now, would we?"
"I mean sure he's a fag and all, but..."
"Shut up and get him back to the counter. You still have your gloves on, right? Now I have to clean up after all of you. Useless pieces of shit, all of you." Silence was the response. "Go!" Three pairs of hands grabbed the unconscious boy, lifted him up and left the room. Once they were gone, the leader of the group opened the bathroom's supply cabinet and began to mop up the evidence.
After cleaning up the bathroom and flushing the toilet, the leader joined the rest of the group outside.
"What if he talks? He saw my face," Dan said, worried. The rest of the group had worn masks to disguise themselves.
"I've got it covered," the leader confidently responded.
"How can you be sure?"
"Just shut up and change his clothes," the leader responded, dropping a duffle bag on the floor. "Quick, before that drunk wakes up." The three others quickly changed Bobby's clothes, desperately hiding as much evidence as they could. "Good, now get out of here," the leader commanded. The three boys hastily left through the back doors of the pharmacy. The leader then removed the mask and gloves, lifted up the impulse item bins as high as possible, and dropped them to the floor with a terrific crash.
The pharmacist yelled and snorted, awoken from his slumber. "Hey, come here quick," the leader shouted.
"You saw that didn't you? You were here, after all. Your assistant just jumped over the counter and knocked himself out, falling on the floor."
"What? Oh, yeah, I saw that," the pharmacist lied. He was on a written warning and couldn't afford to lose his job over sleeping during his shift again. "Stupid of him. He always was an idiot," the pharmacist convinced himself. Looking conspiratorially at the leader, he whispered, "I heard he's been stalking little kids. Boys. Not that I have a problem with queers, you know, but I bet he's one of the sick ones."
"Really? Wow, you had better call 911 and get him out of here. Good thing you were here to see it all happen." The leader dramatically paused and gasped, turning slowly to look the pharmacist in the eye. "He couldn't have been trying to chase after the young boy that was racing out of here when I came in, could he?"
"I bet he was! Yes, I saw him do it." The pharmacist furiously dialed 911 on the phone, proud of himself for being there to free the world of a sexual predator. He had witnessed the whole sordid event, after all. The leader began to walk away. "Hey, you going to stay to let the cops know what happened?"
"No, you saw more than I did, anyway."
"Oh, right," the pharmacist sagely nodded, attention quickly returning to the phone. "Yes, you better send an ambulance and some officers. I'm at ..."
As the pharmacist reported the false incident, the leader stepped to the pharmacy's entrance, unlocking the front door, pulling down the closed sign, and turning on the parking lot lights.
Bobby felt a cloudy haze all around him. 'Why are those lights so bright?' Bobby wondered as an emotionless masked face peered down at him. "It's all my fault, it's all my fault," sobbed Bobby.
"Robert, you need to calm down. You've been in an acci-"
"All my fault, all my fault. Sorry, all my fault...."
The masked man sighed impatiently as his eyes flicked away from Bobby. "It certainly is. Karen, 20 more cc's you think? I can't do this if he can't stay calm." The man paused. "Though considering what he tried to do-"
"Coming right up," was her response.
"Oh Michael, I tried to keep it... All my fau-" Bobby's eyelids become heavy weights and mercifully closed.
"Dude, you need to get laid."
Michael looked over at Ray and smirked. "I'm fine, Ray. Give it a rest."
"You've been moping around for too long. I'm getting sick of it. Plus, what if I wanted to bring my lady here? You being here all the time kind of cramps my style," Ray retorted, attempting and utterly failing to strike a sexy pose.
"Give it a rest, Studly McFailiams."
Ray chuckled, releasing his ridiculous pose. "Maybe you could look up that guy. If the Fates are kind, he's legal by now."
Michael replied with a lovestruck sigh. "Oh how I wish that were true. And oh how I wish I had had the brains to get his number."
Ray smiled kindly. "Well Michael, go sigh somewhere else. Gina's going to be here in about 15 minutes. Ray here, McFailing or not, is getting some tonight."
Michael winked at his friend and squeezed his shoulder. "She's such a sweet girl. I have no idea what she sees in you. You had better be good to her and keep her if you have any brains." Michael picked up his laptop and books and opened the door. "Have a nice night, Ray. I will be in the library."
Bobby's eyes fluttered in a cloud and very slowly came back into focus. He groaned in pain, hands moving up the sides of his face. He felt momentary confusion as his hands met in the center of his face and felt plastic over his nose.
A hand smacked his hand away. "Don't touch your nose, young man. It needs time to heal. You were in an accident at work. Do you remember that?" Bobby's eyes were downcast in response. "I see you do. That was a nasty spill you had. Whatever inclined you to jump over the counter and onto the floor?" The doctor was asking rhetorically, but Bobby felt confusion spread over him. He didn't do that, did he? He was sure that...
"It doesn't matter now, either way. Your nose has been reset and should look perfectly fine in a week. I'll have your nurse give you a painkiller. You are lucky the pharmacist on duty was quick enough to stop you before you did something even more foolish," the doctor continued condescendingly. "Thankfully no one was harmed." Harmed? Wasn't he the one harmed? Who else could have been harmed? This was all so confusing! "I have left a prescription for your pain. You can have it filled tonight. Just remember to drink plenty of liquids and get plenty of rest during your recovery." The doctor stoically patted Bobby's arm. "Jean," the doctor called out the door, "the patient is awake. You can deal with – " he continued, waving his hand airily, "this."
"Sure thing, Dr. Jackson." The doctor exited as Bobby lay on the hospital bed, alone with his thoughts. He was sure that Dan had... Hadn't he? With two others? Or was it three? The events swirled in a mix of confusion in Bobby's skull. Maybe he just imagined the whole thing. He was a worthless faggot, after all. Maybe Karina was right.
Bobby's thoughts were interrupted by a clump clump sound as Nurse Jean walked into Bobby's room with a cart topped with a tray. On it was a paper cup and a white pill. "Robert, take this," she commanded, thrusting the pill into Bobby's dry mouth. "It's a Vicodin. It should help with your pain." She handed him the paper cup after filling it with water. Bending down to his ear, she whispered, "I'll have you know I'm a mother with young children, and if you were after my boys like you were after that kid, I would have left you there. Enjoy your pill. If it were up to me, I would have let you suffer." With that, Jean pivoted and left the room.
A single tear formed in the corner of Bobby's left eye.
Karina rushed over to her father with tears freely flowing from her eyes. "Oh daddy, daddy," she sobbed, "the pharmacy just called. What horrible news!" She buried her head into his shoulder.
"There, there, mi figlia perfetta," he soothed, stroking his daughter's silky black hair. "Come tell papa what is wrong." Alberto always had a soft spot for his daughter over everyone else, even his own wife.
"Daddy, the pharmacy called. Bobby had an accident." Alberto stiffened in response. "This is almost too much to bear!" Alberto held his daughter. The poor girl! He couldn't stand to see her upset. At least one of his children had turned out properly. Well, it was best to visit the fanook. How could he even think of that boy as his son? He was nothing but a disappointment.
Alberto could see how distraught his daughter was, though. He couldn't upset her. He threw on a jacket and picked up his keys. His poor little girl. He would have to find a way to make her feel better. Maybe a nice trip away from all of this would do the trick. "Let's go visit... him... my dearest." Karina valiantly fought a victorious smile as they left.
Michael relaxed on the big leather bean bag in the corner of the library. Luckily there had been no sign of Corey since their incident the other day. He exhaled in relief. Class assignments completed for the moment, Michael daydreamed. But it was always the same dream, the same moments. Bobby, always Bobby. Why couldn't he get the boy out of his head?
Michael had cycled through the many exes that he'd had in his life. They always seemed to be interested in one particular attribute Michael possessed. Some of them even screamed a little when they felt its full effect. Michael smirked at that thought. He loved his boys to be just effeminate enough, and have a slight submissive streak.
That's why Corey was all wrong. The guy knew what he wanted, but kept thinking he was in charge. Michael needed that control. Who could explain the reason? He didn't think others were less than him or anything along those lines. He just needed to feel like.... a protector. Yes, that was a good word for it. Michael couldn't think of anyone needing protection more than Bobby. The way Bobby looked up at him when he fell down, face just at the right level, drove Michael mad with desire. How he had wanted to grab Bobby by the hair, thrust his nine and a half inches into that throat, and bury himself there until the end of time.
Michael snapped out of his daydream. A cute blonde haired freshman with a mild case of acne gasped as he saw Michael's package throbbing in his pants. "Fuck," he whispered. "Corey was wrong. No way is that a limp dick." Michael tossed his head back to release a loud laugh.
The twink blushed, and raced away, a book covering his lap. Michael shook his head, smiling, while thinking that Corey was really bitter about being scorned. `I really should apologize to Corey,' Michael thought. `It's not his fault really. I just need something better than him.'
Sighing, Michael booted up his laptop and checked his e-mail. Mostly junk, as usual. Michael noticed an unusual e-mail from an ex of his. Is this the night of exes or something? Its message simply read "Is this you?" followed by a link to YouTube. Curious, Michael clicked on the link. It started up and began playing dramatic music with a black background. Annoyed almost immediately, Michael closed the site without seeing more. What was this, some tacky song asking him to come back? The bitch had cheated on him, after all. Strangely, Michael had never been that upset when this sort of thing happened.
Going back to his e-mail, Michael didn't give the link another thought.
Alberto briskly walked into Bobby's hospital room with Karina at his feels, a smirk on her face. "Well?" he demanded. The look on Alberto's face made it abundantly clear that Alberto was performing this unpleasant task solely because it was expected of him.
Bobby looked up from his plastic cup, drinking some water. "Dad? You came!"
"You will make my insurance go through the roof," Alberto complained.
Bobby's eyes became immediately downcast. "I'm sorry."
Alberto ignored the apology. "So how did you get here, boy?"
"I – I don't," Bobby sputtered. Karina walked over and stroked Bobby's face. Something stirred a memory... a sound... her heels... that cadence...
"Poor big little brother," she said falsely. "Oh daddy, seeing him like this makes me so sad," she continued, looking at her father with mock sorrow, ignoring her brother completely.
"I don't remember. I was at work and then..."
"Daddy," Karina hastily interrupted, "could you get me a pop?" Bobby shuddered. It was called soda, damn it! Alberto welcomed the interruption, happily leaving the room. Karina's face instantly changed to a cold glare. She leaned over the bed, looking into Bobby's eyes with pure hate. "How far do you want to take this, faggot?"
Bobby gasped. "Kar, you're hurting me!" Karina glanced down and saw her fingers were digging into Bobby's shoulder. She did not release her hand.
"I told you not to call me that, you piece of shit," she hissed. "I repeat, how far do I have to take this?"
"Take what? I don't understand what you want!" Bobby sobbed.
Karina slapped Bobby across the face. "'I don't understand what you want'" she mocked in a nasally tone. "I want to be free of your faggotty ass. You make me sick, laying there, breathing, thinking you're so much better than me. A fucking waste of space." Tears were streaming down Bobby's face. No, don't let her see you like this. "No one will ever want you ugly pale ass and little baby dick, anyway. You're useless. A worthless piece of shit." Tears and more tears. Please stop, please. Bobby turned on his side, shaking uncontrollably, weeping. "Fine," she said after a pause. "If that's how you want it, that's how it will be." Karina release Bobby and walked out the door.
"What did I ever do to make you hate me?" Bobby whispered.
"Hey man," a sour hawk-nosed student with greasy hair and a garish cross necklace called to Michael, drawing from his attention away from a subroutine he was playing with. Michael looked up at the student, trying to mask his annoyance. He had been in the zone, a place when the logic and code was flowing through his fingertips. Either oblivious to Michael's poorly masked annoyance or simply not caring, the student tossed a poorly copied flyer onto Michael's lap. "We're sick of the fucking fags trying to ruin our lives. I just got my fourth cousin to come over here and show `em what we think. You'd even get to visit the only Christian that knows God's truth," he sneered. Michael hated that sneer. He had seen it so many times before. Michael was halfway inclined to bend him over his knee and smack his little pissy attitude away, but was sure he'd find lice, fleas or worse. "Yeah, the Westboro Baptist Church is the only real Christian church in the world. Well see you there. Unless you're a fag or somethin'." The sneer came again as he sauntered off. Michael's eyes squeezed narrowed, a look of abject hate thrown at the obnoxious thing walking away.
Michael scanned the poorly designed flyer, with a badly copied blurry action shot of somebody's head on a tile floor with a few splatters of blood below it. The text below was in Comic Sans, a font face that Michael always freely associated with those of limited intelligence. The text above the poorly copied photo read
"COME JOIN GOD'S WARRIORS – THE WESTBORO BAPTIST CHURCH AT THE SERGMA COURTYARD ON FRIDAY AT NOON."
Below was a hyperlink address followed by
"FAGS AND FAG ENABLERS GET THEIR JUST DESSERTS! SEE WHAT GOD DOES TO THE DAMNED WITH US THIS FRIDAY"
`Dramatic much?' Michael thought. He touched the photo. `Poor kid, whoever he is. This is the result of the social acceptance and expectation of abuse of anyone different.' Suddenly, an idea popped into Michael's demented mind. He grinned triumphantly. He just needed to organize it.
Bobby was finally being released from the hospital. Still feeling not at all himself, Bobby was stumbling as well as he could out the corridor. No one had come to pick him up or help him home. "Robert Strambo?" Bobby turned his head at a decidedly unfriendly voice. A large man in his mid-forties stood in front of Bobby. "Get in the car. We need to ask you some questions at the station."
With that, Bobby's arms were handcuffed and he was tossed into the back of a police cruiser by a man two and a half times his weight. He saw stars as his head banged into the windows on the opposite side of the cruiser thanks to the forceful inertia of the large policeman. A door slammed shut as Bobby was driven away to who knows where.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to drop me a note if you wish.