Date: Mon, 01 Oct 2001 18:34:00 +0000 From: Darren Talbot Subject: gay male/ adult youth/ The Library chapter ten the library Chapter 10 *all disclaimers regarding the legality of this story and the fictionality of it's contents are applicable. ____________________________________________ I touched his face, caressing his cheek with my thumb. "What is it? What's wrong?" Josh asked. "Maybe nothing, maybe everything...but I need more time to think than we have. I need more time to think than today." "But you look upset. Did I do something wrong?" Josh asked, the tears slow running down his cheeks, over my finger. "No, Joshy. No," I said, looking down at his little body, "Does your father pick Christopher up from school?" He laughed bitterly, "Yeah, right. No, I do. I walk him home." "And when does school let out for him?" "Three thirty. Daniel, what is it?" "Okay," I said, grabbing my Post-It notepad and jotting down my home address,"I want you to pick up Christopher, same as always, but then I want you and he to go to this address. You'll find a key just under the doormat at the..." "What's going on?" Josh interrupted. I looked up, taking his face in my hands, "I'm not letting either of you go back to that bastard ever again. I swear that to you." I didn't even realize what I was saying at the time, or that I'd made up my mind to believe Josh over my friend of two years acquaintance, but I had. Somewhere, I had. He leapt into my arms, his hands clasping opposite shoulders, his legs wrapping around me. I was knocked a little bit off balance, having to take a step back. I steadied myself and enveloped him in my arms, my hand on the back of his head. "I love you Daniel." He whispered against my neck. "I love you too, Joshy." I said, slowly letting go of him and lowering him back to the table, "But..." "But?" He asked, his face falling some. "But I don't know exactly what we're going to do yet. You and I have to talk about something." "Oh," He said, "what?" "You've never gone to the police, you said." "No, never. They'd take Chrissy away." "Have the police ever come to investigate your father?" He lowered his head, grabbing his elbows in opposite hands and hugging himself tightly, "Yes." "But they never found anything." "No." He said. There was a long pause, "Josh, you've got to help me, here. Why didn't they ever find anything...any evidence of what he was doing to you?" "Because I wouldn't let them." I was hit by that so hard I couldn't think of what to say next for several minutes. I stepped back from the table and leaned against the cart. "What does that mean?" I asked, finally. "They would find me all the time doing it...earning is what dad calls it. Then he'd come pick me up the next day and take me home..but he knows where to beat you and how to do it, Daniel. They never found any of the bruises because they would go away very fast. And the other stuff..." "Other stuff?" I asked. "The movies. The tapes he made. I cleaned those all up and hid them, or they'd do something, Daniel. They'd take Chrissy away." Josh said, his voice rising in pitch. I couldn't breathe, my chest was clutched so hard by this invisible force, this horrible monster that had just come in with his words, "The...the uh...." I swallowed hard to steady myself, "the movies?" I asked. He nodded, weakly, "He sells them. Movies of me and him. Together. Doing stuff. He sells them." I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. The temperature in the shop shot up by thirty degrees. I was sweating. "So...so you, uh....you hid all of these things so that the police wouldn't find them and...uh..." "So they wouldn't take Chrissy away. He's my little brother, Daniel. He's my little...brother..." His body was convulsing with wracking sobs. He curled into fetal position sitting up. I was horrified by that, but was also very angry at myself because I couldn't move to him. I couldn't move at all. It was as if I was watching this all on a movie screen while I was strapped to a bed. "You hate me! I know you do! God, I am such a dirty dirty boy. I fucking hate..." he was mumbling and shouting between sobs. When I finally could move, I walked to him and wrapped his whole body against me. I enveloped him in my arms. I was shushing him and rubbing his back. When his crying finally died down and he grew silent, he said "You hate me, don't you." "How could I hate you, Josh?" His head came up a little, nuzzling against my neck, "Because I'm so dirty. I'm ruined." "Never, Josh. Never. I will never stop loving you." He sniffled loudly and raised his head to be level with mine, "You mean it?" I nodded and smiled as best I could. Over his shoulder I could see that my watch read one o'clock. It was then I remembered; I had had an appointment today at two. I'd have to cancel it. "What?" He asked, glancing back over his own shoulder to where I was looking. "An appointment today. I'll have to cancel it." "An appointment? I don't want to make you not do something, Daniel. I should just..." He said, making as if to get out of my arms. "No, you're not going anywhere. The book will still be old come tomorrow, or the next day." He looked up at me, questioning. I said, "I have an appointment to authenticate a book today." He still looked confused,"What?" "Authenticate a book? what's that?" Now it was my turn to be confused, "You've been here all this time and you don't know what I do? What, did you think running a used bookstore was enough to pay the bills in a town like this?" I asked. He didn't say anything, but from the look on his face, I could tell he hadn't thought about it, "Mort taught me, and then showed me which college to attend. That's what I do to earn my real money, Josh, " I said, picking up the phone to call Mrs. Biederman. "What is it?" He asked. "Old books are extremely valuable, especially if they are first editions, printed while the author was still alive. I don't come across many of those. But when people buy old books or are thinking about buying old books, they want to make sure that it's actually valuable, for one, and for two that what they're buying is what the owner says it is, so they call someone who knows how to authenticate books. Someone who knows how to figure out how old paper is,who knows about different binding types and stuff." I dialed the number from the Post-It note near the cash register. "Who taught you how to do that?" Josh asked. "Mort. It's what he did for a living, too...Hello? Mrs. Biederman? Oh...do you know when she might be back in? Ah...okay. Could you please tell her that this is Daniel Walcott and I won't be able to keep the appointment today....Yes...yes she has the number and she's more than welcome to phone me to reschedule at her convenience. Thank you." I said, and hung up. "That's so cool." Josh said, almost whispering. "Do you really think so?" I asked. He nodded. I looked down to see the Post-It with most of my address still on it. I quickly scrawled the rest of the address out and then took it off the pad, handing it to Josh, who accepted it as though it was a holy relic. "This is really where you live?" "Yeah. I might not be able to keep you guys there long, but I won't let you go back to your fathers house." I said, going back to the office. "Then what are you gonna do?" Josh said, his feet thumped as he hit the floor, and then followed me. I went to the desk and picked up his backpack. I saw he was about to step into the room and held up my hand to stop him, "Don't, honey...glass," and he stopped. I also picked up my leather satchel and walked back across the threshold, handing his back pack to him. As he shouldered into it, I went to the last bookshelf against the far wall. For some reason, I just felt that I might not be back to the shop for awhile. I pulled down the false row of books. As I set them down, I saw Josh's amazement. I smiled, then removed the shelf they had been sitting on. What I revealed was the door of a safe. I twisted the nob around the the right the left then the right again, spelling out the number that was etched in my brain forever. "What's in there?" Josh asked. "A few of the treasures of Alexandria, he called them," I said, and laughed. The door sprung open. I picked up my satchel. "Huh?" Josh asked, stepping closer and craning his neck to see. I removed first one and then the other, setting them delicately into my satchel, "Mort had managed to save enough money to buy up a few of the books that he authenticated. Never for just collection reasons, though. They were books he loved. He told me," I said, my voice going deeper to mimic him,"Daniel, you must always treasure your treasures." I laughed, as he had that day. "Oh! Those are old books?" Josh asked, stepping closer again, "Which ones?" "Maybe someday I'll show you. These aren't the same ones he had, though. These are mine. Someday, you'll have yours." I said, slinging the satchel over my neck and shoulder, and shutting the safe door. "I dunno that I'll ever have enough money to own really old books." He said, shrugging some. I put the false books back up on the shelf I'd just put back, as well, and turned to him, just as Mort had to me, all those years ago when I'd said the same thing, and, just as Mort had, I lightly touched the tip of Josh's nose with my finger "All books are treasures, my young friend. All of them." And, our faces there at the same level, Josh smiled that heartbreaking million dollar smile of his. The room seemed to grow brighter and I felt, just for a second, that maybe it was going to be okay. I put my arm around Josh as we walked to the front of the shop. I locked the front door and put up the 'closed' sign, closing the blinds. "So what's the combination to your safe?" Josh asked. "Ahh...a very important day." I said, turning back and putting my arm around him again, leading us both to the back door in the office. I stopped him at the doorway, walking in and grabbing his shoes, then walked back to him. I knelt down and put his hands on my shoulders, picking up his small, delicate little foot in my hand. My fingers roamed over it's soft skin for a moment, before putting it on him. Then I shifted and caressed the other foot lightly. "Stop. That tickles." He said, and I could hear the grin returning to his voice. I smiled and squeezed his other foot into it's adorable blue Converse. As we walked to the back door, he said "You don't own a broom? I'll sweep up the mess I made." "No, actually, I don't own a broom for the shop. Never needed one, reallly." I reached for the doorknob and was opening the back door when he stopped, forcing me to, as well. "Daniel, what are we going to do?" I inhaled deeply and then opened the back door. As I reached to shut off the office light, I put my arm around his shoulder to guide him out, and said "I don't know yet, Joshy, but I'm sure we'll figure something out." And I hoped I was right. ___________________________________ End chapter 10 More to come! *questions and comments welcome (I hope you guys aren't minding that there are quite a number of chapters where no sex occurs. I realize that's not exactly in keeping with the purpose of this site, but I think it's more "sexy" when it happens naturally in the pace of the story, and doesn't seem forced into each chapter. I hope you agree)