Date: Wed, 17 Nov 2004 00:45:41 -0800 From: Kevin Harness Subject: Save the Boy, Part 1 Once again, all the usual disclaimers hold true. If you are under 18 or think that you might be, you are not supposed to be reading this story per most of the laws and statutes that I'm aware of. Also, your local laws and / or statutes may not let you read this kind of a story at all: that of boylove, which is to say that even though all the actors playing these parts are over 18, there might be a character in the story who is below the age of 18 and who has sex. Yeah, I know. But oh well. Read on. ============================================================================= Chapter 1 The rain was pelting down so hard my wipers barely allowed me a glimpse of the street I was trying to drive on. The highway had been worse, with two major accidents and resultant traffic jams (also known in Southern California as "parking lots") in the 20 miles from work to home. Normally it took me about 25 minutes to drive home. Today it had been over two hours, a record, although I wasn't exactly celebrating my being this part of history. I hadn't eaten yet, had forgone my workout, was going to get soaked in the 40 feet from my parking lot to the stairway to my apartment, and had to piss like a racehorse. I was n-o-t happy. I work in So Cal in a relatively high tech job that, despite the wonderful amount of dollars I make per hour, barely keeps up with the suck-you-dry economy of the section of the country. But, the job was pretty ok, I liked it, it paid the bills, and somehow I managed to get out a few times a week and have a few cocktails, play a game or two of pool, etc etc. I was SO looking forward to a hot shower, a quick burger on the way to my local neighborhood bar, and chat with my friends there and complain about how awful the weather was despite the fact that we needed the rain. I rounded the corner by my humble abode and slowed to cross the minor river that was normally the first part my parking spot in front of my apartment, and pulled in slowly. Brake on, got all my stuff in hand, key out and ready, and I opened the door to dash to my front door. I cursed the fact that I lived on the second floor. Yeah, I know, I was definitely in a pissy mood. Argh! THAT reminded me that my bladder was about 20-30 psi beyond the rupture point. I slammed my car door and ............. I squinted to see what I wasn't sure that I was seeing, because I couldn't immediately comprehend the sensory input I was getting. There was someone out in the rain, just sitting on the brick wall that went around the front of our building. Rain was pouring off their head, like a rock next to a creek during a downpour. They weren't moving. Well, not that I could see anyway. I made one step to go to my apartment, and............ I couldnt' do it. I quickly switched keys and unlocked my driver door and threw my stuff back on my seat, and semi-ran over to the person on the wall. "What's the matter?" I half-yelled. It was a boy, couldn't tell how old, but mid-teen-something. No answer. "Dude, I don't mean to state the obvious here, but it's raining like hell, you're soaked as hell, it's cold as hell. What's up? Are you ok?" I again half-yelled. The downpour was nothing short of loud. I put my hand on the boy's shoulder to see if I could get him to turn to me and say something. "I'm Donny, I live here in these apartments. At least let's get out of the rain," I tried. No answer, but I could discern that the boy was either shivering, crying, or both judging from the vibrations of his body. His lips curled into a sorta painful look as all the hurt and crying or whatever was going on came out, "Leave me alone!" and he shrugged his shoulder pretty hard to dislodge my hand. "Hey, I ......" I started.... "I don't NEED your help! I don't need ANYBODY'S help EVER AGAIN! Leave me alone! Nobody EVER helps," and he began to cry in earnest. "I........" "GO AWAY!" he tried his best at shrieking. I have to admit, he did a pretty good job of it. By now I was soaked, shivering too, and rebuffed sufficiently enough to where I was going to go about my original plans. I visibly sighed, threw up my hands, and got my stuff out of my car. Now everything was soaked. I looked at the boy, rain still pouring off his face like a statue. Even his backpack seemed soaked. What in heaven's name was going on? And who was he? Heck, I knew almost everyone on the block at least by sight, and I surely knew if any cute young boys lived nearby. There was a group of skater kids that lived next door, but I don't think I'd seen this kid among them. I walked back over by him, and sat my stuff down. The boy looked at me like I was out of my mind. He looked at my stuff on the wet ground, then looked at me. I wasn't totally sure I hadn't lost my mind, truthfully. What the hell was I doing? "Look," I said above the rain, "my apartment is #7. You're welcome to come in and dry off. Maybe somebody else was an asshole to you, but I'm not one, kid. I'm actually really for real trying to help. The door's unlocked if you want to come up. I'm taking a shower cuz my nuts are freezing," and I turned, grabbed my stuff and headed off. I didn't look back despite wanting to so badly, just to see if he was looking. I took a shower and got ready to go out. I still wasn't all the way warm yet. And it made me think of this guy out in the rain. He'd obviously been there a while prior to my getting home, so he was most likely WAY past cold. I argued with myself back and forth on what to do. In my own private world I just wanted to end this day and go have a couple drinks, relax, and go to bed and wake up to a new day. I resolved that that's exactly what I was going to do. And it worked all the way down to the point where I walked outside and saw the kid still there. My shoulders sagged, and I walked my umbrella over and held it over he and I as best I could, and just looked at his face. He was still crying. Damn. "You know, I was cold after being out here for 10 minutes before. You've got to be frozen to these fucking bricks," I said in a effort to get a response. He looked up at me still crying, and in a v-e-r-y upset voice, yelled at me, "I've been here for fucking hours!" and he went back to looking down at the concrete driveway at his feet. And then he looked up at the umbrella, and said, "Do you really think that's helping? I'm already wet!" and he looked over at me as if I was supposed to make sense of this whole thing, and he returned to crying and looking downward. "Well, it's all I can do. You won't come inside," I said as softly as I could considering I was talking above the rain pounding my umbrella. "I don't exactly want you to freeze to death out here, you know." I guess the positive point was that he was sorta talking, well.........yelling at me instead of just crying and being silent. I guess. "It doesn't fucking matter. So WHAT if I die. NO ONE cares. And who gave you the 'Save The Boy' fucking ticket anyway?! It doesn't fucking MATTER!" Now time froze for a second here, because I'd had friends die that I'd loved more than life itself, to cancer, to AIDS, to stupid accidents, and to suicide. I couldn't help it. All that emotion welled up in me, and as this boy looked at my face for a moment, watched my eyes teared up. It's like when you speak the exact words that nail it on the head for you, the other person, the situation, everything. And sometimes it's not so much what you say, but also somehow what's behind the words that rings home. "Sweetheart, it matters more than I can even explain. It matters enough to where I care about people, what's wrong, what I can do to help. I've had friends die that if I could've I would've traded places with them." I let that sink in for a second. "It matters. It matters a whole lot," and I folded my umbrella, and attempted to wipe my eyes, which was an exercise in futility. The boy didn't stop looking at me, still crying (but maybe a little less?). "And I don't know who gave me the 'Save The Boy' ticket, but I'm obviously the only guy who got it," and I motioned with an arm at all the people in the street who hadn't stopped, shown up, or tried to help, "cuz here I am." "You're fucking nuts," he stated in an effort to dissuade me, but also it had the very slight tone of someone actually speaking to me, instead of at me. "Ah. Now we're getting somewhere," I tried my best effort at joking. He wasn't looking at the ground anymore, but more toward the street. I stuck my hand out, "I'm Fuck Nuts Donny, and now that we're both wet, can I please invite you to my apartment to dry off. Cuz if I do this routine too many more times I WILL run outta clothes eventually, and it's WAY too cold for that number." He didn't take my hand, but stood up. "Fuck off. Leave me alone," he said. But his tone was far less convincing. "What? No "I'm Fucking-Nuts-In-The-Rain-Boy-Jimmy" or whatever?" I asked, genuinely incredulous. "Nope," and he started to walk away. "Well, you can't walk away forever. Yeah, you can walk away from me, I guess. But no matter what you're pissed or hurt about, n-o-t-h-i-n-g is worth dying for, n-o-t-h-i-n-g. Cuz despite all the hype, it's forever. No more hamburgers, no more Jackie Chan or Jimmy Eat World or Green Day or sunsets or kissy-face or fucking nothing." He stopped. And turned around. And actually spoke, instead of crying or yelling, "Why in the fuck do you care?" "Dude," I pleaded, "not only is it raining like hell and we both look like a bad swimming lesson, I'm starving and I'm sure you are too unless you had Pizza Hut deliver just before I got here......" He didnt' say anything. "Come on," I stated. "Let's go get a burger and bring it back and get out of these wet fucking clothes." He walked up to within two feet of me and said, "Who the fuck are you?" I smiled, "Remember? I'm the guy with the 'Save The Boy' ticket." He shook his head and walked to the passenger door of my car. We both shivered all the way to the burger drive-thru and back, despite the fact that I had the car heater on nuclear fission mode and the dashboard was getting soft. I got out of the car when we'd returned to my apartment and handed the food bad to him to carry. "Would you mind, I gotta check the mail on the way in," and he took it without any comment or expression. The rain had mercifully let up a couple notches, and it was just normal rain. Once in the apartment, I peeled off my jacket and the boy did the same. I took both of them and put them on hangers in front of the heater, where I also set up two chairs to put our clothes on. I brought out some clothes that were too small for me and handed them to him. "Bathroom's there, see ya in a couple," and I headed to the bedroom for a similar change. By the time I got out he had already arranged his clothes on one of the chairs. I grabbed a couple plates and paper towels, the food bag, and sat down on one end of the couch, punching the tuner's on button on the way down. I usually eat pretty fast and always realize it when I'm in a restaurant with a friend and I'm done while they're half-way thru their food. The boy was done before I was. I took both of our plates to the sink and quickly rinsed them and put them in the sink, and went back to the living room. "Hey, the shower's open. I'm wet but already had a shower before I came out with my umbrella. You're welcome to go ahead and clean up and shower and stuff, and I'll take a quick warm shower when you're done." He sort of nodded his assent, and got up. I handed him a towel, and went back to the living room while he showered. He came out a short while later, and I passed him as I went into the bathroom. "Tag team, I'm in. Help yourself to whatever's in the 'frig, cabinets, and on the t.v. Be out shortly," and I hopped in the shower. I came out, drying my hair off and in a pair of house-sweats. I more or less stopped in my tracks as my guest turned toward me to see what I looked like not all wet and clothes plastered to my body. The plus was, I was doing the same with him. It took me about 2 to 3 seconds to take in the fact that the boy was not only strikingly nice looking, but had eyes SO near-turquoise blue, that I sorta automatically asked..... "Dude, do you have colored contacts in?" "No. But everyone asks me that," he said matter-of-factly, and flipped his hair back a bit out of his eyes. His hair. Oh yeah. It was several shades of blonde from a medium to bleached, kinda like if he'd been surfing all summer long, and the longish length that looks good on almost any teen boy. Not tooooo long, but.............nice. It was now about 8:30p and to be honest I was still cold, so I sat down and just watched t.v. for a little bit, not engaging in any particular conversation. I was pretty wiped from my day, the rain, and to be honest - the drama. I was lost in thought as I flipped through a few programs, movies, and talk shows to find something of interest to watch, finally settling on a Tom Cruise movie. I watched it for about 10 minutes and turned to the boy to make a comment, only to find his eyes shut and him sleeping quietly, sitting up. His skin color still wasn't all that wonderful, quite white-ish in fact. Damn. How long h-a-d he been out in the cold rain? All day? I couldn't fathom it. A thousand questions went through my mind, none of which had a single answer. I'd sorta hoped he'd wake back up so I could figure out if he needed to be back home, was supposed to be somewhere, had to be at school in the morning......you know, the usual stuff. But what we were confronted with here wasn't the usual. I had a very weather-exposed teen, screamingly upset earlier, who hadn't eaten probably all day, stressed, and very, very tired. Who, from what I can tell, wasn't intent on going anywhere other than the couch he'd fallen asleep on. He didn't look well, but I wasn't sure that calling 9-1-1 was going to get us anything more than a severerly upset boy again, who probably wouldnt' tell the authorities where he belonged or needed to go. So I decided to just prop his feet up onto the couch, put a spare pillow off my bed under his head, and hope the only spare blanket I had in the closet was enough to keep him warm and sleeping. Aw shit! What was I going to do with him when I had to get up at 6:30am to go to work? Drop him back out front onto the brick wall to sit for the day? Take him to work? ARGH! I had no idea........... So I covered him up, brushed my teeth, turned out the lights and headed off to my bedroom and covered up and, despite thinking about the boy's plight and my dilemma, slid off to sleep relatively quickly.