* The following tale is fiction, a.k.a not real.  It has been created for entertainment purposes only. This story contains sexual material involving boys and men.  If this kind of material is illegal where you are, if you are underaged, or if this type of material offends you, then you are urged to turn back RIGHT NOW.  Otherwise please enjoy.

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The Journal of Marques Dodd

Chapter Three: The Occurrence

June 16^th

Sorry I was away for so long. But this is good for me. Usually I start one of these journals up and don't get passed the first entry until two plus months later.

I've had a lot on my mind since my last words. Work has been going well. I've been there for a year today and my co-workers in the office gave me a little party. I work in a men's state correctional facility as a non-custodial employee. That means that while I don't do correctional officer work, I do have contact with inmates who are on the work release program. I supervise a group of them (something I wasn't told I'd be doing once I started) and while it's not bad, it can be awkward. Some of these dudes are older than me. Old enough to be my grandfather in some cases. And here they are having to take direction and obey someone who could be their kid or grandkid.

Even the head of our area has mellowed out a bit. You can tell this guy used to be in corrections because he runs our area like freakin' boot camp. I think everyone in our area respects him, because he does run that area well and we do always have our shit together. The inmates also don't try to pull any shenanigans in our area because they know he'll send their ass straight back to the yard without a job and with extra time. But I don't think anyone really likes him all that much. It's because of him that everyone sometimes mispronounces my name as a little joke. He kept calling me Marqwez, instead of Marcus. It's the spelling though. Marques throws people.

My mother, my two aunts, and my uncle continue to check in on me. Most of our family is out of state. We're the only ones who live here in town. My mother is always calling to make sure I've got food and that I'm keeping my place up. My aunts and uncle usually call just to check in with me and see how I am living all by myself for the first time. My mother and aunts helped me pick out furniture and shit for my place, and those women know how to work some interior design.

My homeboys (all four of them) keep telling me I'm gonna get some major pussy and/or dick once I start seeing someone. I always say: "That'll happen when the women who are interested in me don't already have boyfriends, and the men I'm interested in aren't all hetero". Yep. I'm the bisexual one out of our group. Another one of us, Jessie, is strictly dickly. The other two, Daniel and David are all about the ladies.

All four of us have been tight since junior high. I met David first, Jessie second, and Daniel last. It was nice to finally meet other guys who were into gaming and technical shit (instead of just sports, sports, and more sports) and the four of us have always connected very well. We've always looked out for one another and helped one another, which is a blessing in my mind. Dudes can be some cold-blooded, cock-blocking, out-for-self punks. And its hard to find ones you can actually, truly trust.

Despite that tightness, I haven't talked to any of them about my mishap on June 9^th. I felt it was best to just erase it completely from my mind and go on like the shit never took place. I was actually making good progress, until I saw my neighbor across the way yesterday for the very first time.

They were coming home around 7pm, while I was out feeding my nicotine habit. They were driving a new looking black Nissan Altima. We don't have specifically assigned parking, so when the person got out, I didn't know where they were going until they went into the apartment. It turned out to be a white man, well dressed, well kept. Even had one of those big over-the-shoulder bags people who carry around files or laptops pack around. I couldn't tell how old he was by the face, but he did have more gray hair than black hair on his head. Nobody else got out of the car.

It was too light to tell if any lights in his place were on, so I couldn't tell if he lived alone or if someone else could be inside. I figured he must've had his grandkid over the other time, and that's why I'd seen what I'd seen. Older folks do tend to be in bed before two in the am.

I don't give it too much extra thought. I was going to be heading out in a couple of hours to hook up with my boys. We were gonna see a movie, eat, then go back to David's place and get our drink on. His parents were going out of town for a week, so he was going to have the house to himself. We were gonna come to my place, but decided David's had more room and we could be as loud and rowdy as we wanted to be. Yeah. Me and Jessie are the only ones who've managed to get good enough jobs to support living on our own. Jessie went for a studio, but he's always been the type that doesn't like or need a lot of space. David and Daniel are looking to get a place together soon.

I would've spent the night at David's if it weren't for my mother calling me and asking me if I could come and help her move some stuff out of storage the next morning. I told her yeah, even though it was going to put a dent in how I wanted to spend my evening. David and the others were still going for it when I left at about 1 in the morning, and of course teasing me as I left all the way.

So I'm still a bit tipsy when I get home and not the least bit tired. I hit the bathroom, take off my shoes and leave them in the bedroom and go into the front room to do a little gaming. I figure David and the others are still online, since they'd brought all their game stuff over to David's, so at least I can team up with them and play some warfare. While my system is loading up, I remember that I hadn't checked the mailbox earlier (hadn't done it for three days now) and force myself to go. It was on the opposite side of the complex and I'd always forget to go and check the thing. Was used to having one right next to the front or back door.

I go on out there barefoot, (because I was too lazy to go back to my room and get my shoes) watch the ground to make sure I don't step on anything, and get pissed once I make it to the mailbox and see the only thing in there is junk mail. It was better than bills though. They keep a trash can right there by the mailboxes, so I throw the shit away and start back toward home. That's when I start to hear this light tapping type sound.

Instinctively I look around, thinking it was probably one, or both, of the cats sharpening their claws on the on the walkway, or stairway, somewhere. I'd caught them doing it on more than one occasion while I'd been out smoking. The sound was coming from the direction where they usually hang out, so I start that way. I get to their usual spot and see that it's empty, but I can still hear the sound and it sounds closer. I don't realize until this point that I'm standing near the patio of the neighbor who's window I'd seen into that led to my mental scarring. Like a fool, I walk closer, until I'm standing in front of it. The tapping sound seemed to be coming from near there.

The patio has a solid wooden wall around it, so I can't see anything. I figure it's probably the cats on his patio doing their claw sharpening thing and get ready to walk away when I hear someone whisper very low:

"I'm `bout to nutt. I'm `bout to..."

Then I hear a grunt. It's not loud. Barely above the whisper. It was followed by a few sighs, then the tapping sound stopped.

"Not bad for an old man, huh?" I hear another voice whisper, but not as low as the other.

"Cain't argue with that." another voice whispered back, also not as low as before.

I don't know what was said next, because whoever was on the patio started moving. When they started moving. I ducked down and shuffled as close to the patio as I could without falling into the plants that surrounded it. I knew if I tried to run in any direction, they'd be able to see me. So I waited until I heard the patio door open, then shut a few moments later. I still didn't move. Stayed down until I was positive nobody was on that patio, before I moved in that same hunched position back toward the mailboxes. I kept looking over my shoulder along the way to be sure nobody was there. Nobody was. I stood back up and pretended to check my mailbox again, before I ran back to my apartment.

The shock didn't kick in until I was back in my apartment, luckily. I couldn't say anything except for "Oh my god" over and over again, because I now knew what had really been going on that night a week ago. That older man, my neighbor, had been getting his freak on with that kid.

I guess I don't have to say that I didn't sleep at all or game at all last night. I didn't even get mad when my mother called me to cancel going to storage because my aunt (she's the one who'd wanted to go and had asked for help) had changed her mind. All I could think about was what I'd heard, and what I'd seen. All some shit that I never should've been privy to, but had somehow been at the right place at the right time twice.

I keep thinking I should call the police, but can they do anything? How am I going to prove what I saw and what I heard? They're going want that. And if I can't give it to them, they're probably going to look at me and think I'm up to some shit and then I'll be the one in trouble.

Fuck!

What am I going to do about this? It's not like I can tell my friends or my family. What can they do?

...Wait a minute.

This kid has got to have family, right? This kid has got to have parents. And I bet they have no idea that their kid was on some old man's patio getting molested. And how can I stand by knowing a kid is being molested right across the way from me and not do a damn thing about it? I know if that were my kid and somebody knew what was going on and didn't come tell me...I'd go off like 4^th of July at Disneyland on that person.

You know what? I'm about to go outside and wait for that boy to leave that man's house. And when he does, I'm going to follow him home and tell his parents everything I've seen and heard.

Damn, I should've come up with it earlier! What if the kid is gone already? He might not be. If he is, I'll just have to wait until next time. `Cause this is twice he's been over there, so I'm guessing this is either a regular thing or becoming a regular thing. In any case, I'm going to put an end to this shit.

Now I'm beginning to wonder if maybe that's why I've happened upon this two times in a row. Maybe god is trying to use me to help this kid. If that's true, then I hear you, god. Loud and clear.

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