Date: Sun, 10 Nov 2002 13:02:25 -0800 From: arthur Subject: turning the tide part 1 adult/youth TURNING THE TIDE Part one By Arthur Aurthors Note: This story is total fiction and no animals were hurt during its telling, All the usual restrictions and laws are in force so if you're under the age of consent for your country don't read any further ( if you do then it's on your shoulders if mom and dad catch you). The copywrite remains the property of the author and no copies for sale may be made without his express permission. As always your views may be expressed and will be answered if you attach your email address at, www.rochopa@xtra.co.nz, well here we go again so I hope you will sit back and enjoy. Moeaki (Moy-are-key) leaned against the tree as his knees gave out under him, sending him into a slumped sitting position on the damp ground, the misty rain still falling as he tried to stop the spinning in his head as the beer got the better of him and the acrid smell of the dope drifted toward him from the group of friends still bent on making a night of it here in the park. Voices raised in argument as the other five teenagers pushed and shoved each other in drunken rivalry, quickly silenced as the police patrol drove slowly past on their tour of duty, they took no notice of the group of teens under the tree's for the moment, if it got to rowdy they would send them home later, at least here they could find them when they wanted too. Moeaki's stomach gave a small heave but he kept it down, the acid taste of to much beer and greasey hamburger beginning to take effect on his sodden mind, it was times like this he felt most alone, knowing what he was but not being able to tell his mates, puting up a big front about his female conquests without ever being seen in the act but he knew it was all just a cover up for what he really wanted. Some months earlier he'd made friends with an older man near where he lived but was to afraid to tell him about himself, he knew that the guy was gay but could not bring himself to talk about his feelings straight out, his mates from the islands would probably kick the shit out of him if they found out, his parents were gone over seas and his Aunt and Uncle didn't care what he did so he spent most of his time boozing and smoking when they had the money or fighting with the other groups around the area if they had something that Moeaki and his mates wanted. He was called just Moe (Moy) by his mates and he was usually the leader when it came to setting up a breakins of a houses to get money or a bit of five fingered discount when things were easy and the shop was busy, he'd never been caught although some of the little gang had been hauled into the cop shop for questioning but let go with a warning because of their age, the courts could not prosecute them under eighteen except for family court but that was just a slap on the wrist and didn't do much to stem the trouble these kids could get into. Moe felt again the dampness as it sank into him through his clothes but now added to by the wet ground underneath him, his stomach heaved again and this time he coudn't keep it down as it gushed from his mouth he leand to the side but it was to late for some of the mess as it fell onto his new jeans, the smell and taste of acid making him retch even further, moaning to himself he heard his mates starting to laugh at him as they saw the eruption spew forth. Now what the hell was he going to do, he couldn't go back to his Aunties place like this, not on a Saturday night she'd give him hell then want him up early for church in the morning, it was better to find somewhere else to stay the night than to have to face her in the morning, through the fog in his head he heard voices filtering into the confusion of his mind. "Hey Moe, can't hold your piss eh?" Loud laughter followed from the others as he tried to pull himself back into a sitting position. "F*** you Stefi, leave me alone" "F*** you Moe, you think you're to good for us eh, boy?" "Piss off Stefi." Moeaki felt the hammer blow on his ear as his best mate Stefi threw a wild punch and as Moe rocked back from the contact another hit him in the gut, he rolled onto the ground moaning as a boot caught him in the ribs taking his breath away, he knew he was in trouble now, to drunk to defend himself from all five at the same time he curled up into a ball trying to keep the worst of it from doing to much damage, one on one he could beat any of them but now out numbered and drunk he had no defense, as he began to drift into unconciousness he heard the far off scream of a siren then blackness. Something was happening, what was going on, he was shaking, his eyes wouldn't open and the place he was sleeping was wet under him, his body felt sore all over and he found it hard to breathe through his nose, the smell of stale beer and vomit surrounded him, it was dark and cold, the distant murmer of passing cars seeped into his brain as the nights antics came back to him through the fog in his brain. Even with his little gang he had been lonely and depressed swallowing more and more beer to drown the emptiness of his life, sixteen years old and alone even in a crowd he began to sob as it hit him that he was again alone, his mates had left him here in the park, wet, cold,in a drunken stupor, covered in the grime and stink of vomit, his ribs hurt and the crusted blood on his face showing the effects of the beating they had given him, now he knew that Stefi had wanted to take over the gang all along as he'd assumed before, he was now an outcast and as the realisation took hold of him he felt again like a little boy standing on the warf in Tonga as his parents left him with relations to go overseas to find a better life, promising to send for him as soon as they were settled, but they never did and when his grandmother died her daughter offered to take Moeaki in New Zealand to give him a chance, he was nine years old. Moeaki struggled onto his hands and knees as the dampness caused his body to shake and shiver with the first signs of exposure making themselves felt, what to do, where can I go, who would want me, where can I get help, these thoughts ran through his mind as he reached for the tree trunk to try to pull himself upright, knee's shaking, head spinning, his body feeling the bruises and cuts of his dismissal from the small gang, what now?, the sobs of pain and loneliness started again as he stood upright clasping the tree for balance, what's the time, hell it's still dark and raining, got to get out of here, where to go, he began to stumble forward not knowing which way he was going, just keep moving, find somewhere dry, anywhere, doesn't matter. Bleary eyes trying to focus on the path as he made his way out of the park staggering from tree to tree and then he felt the brick wall near the entrance of the park and forced his legs to move as he bumped into the wall and felt the sharp pain in his ribs, got to get help before the cops see me but where, as the idea hit him he saw the concrete path rushing up at him, throwing out his hands to break the fall he felt the bight of the concrete taking the skin off his palms then the scraping of skin on his forehead, again reaching for the nearby shop front to lever himself back to standing he made his unsteady way along the shopping mall, looking, searching for anywhere safe to lay down and forget about his useless and unending hunt for that one thing he needed more than anything else. Moeaki caught a reflection of himself in a shop window as he wavered unsteadily on his feet, the person looking back at him he hadn't seen before, this couldn't be him, it looked like him but he'd never been in this bad a condition before, hell they did a job on him alright, his normal smooth good looks covered with a golden skin topped off with short curly black hair and his clothes always neat and tidy, the best fashions and names (bought or stolen) now looked like a beaten dog, his face pale with fresh blood dripping from the wound on his forehead, his left eye bruised and cut, the smart clothes now no more than dirty stained and torn rags, vomit splashed down the legs of his low hung jeans, mud and grass stains making them look like cast offs from the Sallies shop, his feet hurt and as he looked down he saw that his new Nike's were missing, his sock covered feet now also wet and muddy, he stumbled on, going anywhere, just keep moving. A dark street, raining again, where am I, why here, damn I don't care just keep moving. ************************************************************************************ A pounding on the door brought me to full alertness from my comfortable sleep in a warm bed, glancing at the bedside clock I saw it was 3.30 in the morning, who the hell knocks on my door at 3.30 am, if I go back to sleep they'll go away, I turned over to go back to sleep, the pounding continued. "Damn,damn,damn, OK, I'M COMING, CUT IT OUT." The banging continued as I pulled myself from the comfort of the warm bed, whoever the hell it was, was going to get told where to go, I dont have many friends and certainly none that would come calling at this hour, probably some drunken hoon from a party somewhere, lost and being a pain in the ass for ordinary people trying to get some sleep, I reached for my equaliser as I made my way to the front door, it pays to be prepared in this city in the middle of the night,my equaliser was a tyre tester kept over from my days as a trucky, shaped like a miniture baseball bat and made of solid alloy about two feet long, very effective for close work and devastating in its ability to stop anyone cold in case of trouble. I switched on the outside light as I opened the door taking a step backward incase the bastard lunged forward, to old for their tricks, I've been through this before, the sight before me was horific, the boy looked familiar but he was a mess from head to foot, the smell of stale beer and vomit almost making me choke as it hit me. "Who the F*** are you, what you want?" A pitifull tear stained face looked up at me, smears of blood and other unnamed grime on his features. "Pleashsh John, pleashsh helpsh me, pleashsh?" The figure made to move forward and then with an audible sigh collapsed onto the hallway floor with a loud thump as his head hit the linoleum, then it hit me, it was young Moeaki, he'd been coming around looking for part time work now and again but I suspected it was more than that but he never took the step to talk about what was on his mind, he would just sometimes sit and look at me, always polite, never asking for anything except if there was any work he could do, although my gaydar would beep I never took the step, it was up to him as far as I was concerned, his Tongan background and the macho image they liked to project stopping him from saying what I was pretty sure would be an admission of being different to his mates. I must admit that to me, Moeaki was quite a cutey as far as an Islander went and to me that was quite far as I liked the so called 'exotics' and had done so for many years after my time living in the islands of the Pacific, the only whites that I was attracted to were to young for me to even consider, eye candy only, but the 'exotics' were another story, not only their looks but their openess in most things, although like Tonga some were underground, but once even they decide what they wanted then their attitude changed. This was not going to be easy, getting him into the house and through to the bathroom to clean him up, we were both about the same height (5' 9") but he was a little slimmer, I think he was bout 16 or 17, still growing yet, but now he would be a dead weight, I thought I could do it but it wasn't going to be easy, I pulled his limp form into the hallway and closed the door then reached down to roll him over where I could get him into a firemans lift over my shoulder and take him in to be cleaned up, he groaned as I lifted him and began to stagger toward the bathroom. Bugger, here I go again, hotel for lost sheep, oh well it makes a change from being alone for a bit. To Be Continued: