Date: Tue, 20 Jul 2004 17:15:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: ds elliot <dselliot28@yahoo.com>
Subject: What I Learned from Saul - Part I  (Gay Male - Adult/Youth Section)

What I Learned From Saul

by ds elliot


This is the story of a lost teen and the adult who found him.

All rights reserved. This story may not be distributed on or linked to
any other sites including pay sites without the express permission of the
author.

Copyright 2004.

This story may contain descriptions of sexual contact between two males.
This is a story of growing, learning, love, and discovery. If you are not
of legal age in your area to read stories of this nature or if you are
offended by stories of this nature, please navigate to another site and
stop reading now.

I would appreciate your comments, suggestions, and constructive
criticisms. You can contact the author at: dselliot28@yahoo.com



and now on to the story....

I suppose it is important to tell you some things about me as I start
this story. I'm sure it will help you understand how all of this came to
be. First of all I'm 27 years old. My name is Jacob Harlowe ^Ö Jake to my
friends and Jacob to my family. When I graduated from high school ^Ö ten
years ago already ^Ö I enrolled in one of our state universities. I had
no idea what direction I was headed at that time. Everyone ^Ö parents,
teachers, ministers, counselors, and friends ^Ö all seemed to know that I
was destined to attend college. I wasn't as positive as everyone else
seemed to be, but that wasn't enough to keep me from attending. The first
two years were good years in so many ways ^Ö almost an extension of all
the fun I had in high school. My grades were good. I had lots of friends.
I was popular. Those first two years seemed to go by so quickly, and I
still didn't have a goal in mind. I tried finding an area that interested
me more than any other, but nothing clicked.

Frustrated by my own lack of a career goal and restless, I'd decided that
I would not go back to college for my third year until I had some
direction and purpose. Having made that decision, I needed to decide what
to do instead. I didn't want to stay at home, but I had no idea where I
really wanted to go. As the summer progressed my restlessness seemed to
get more intense. Walking downtown one afternoon I happened by a
recruiting office. What struck me first were the posters in the window.
The promised opportunities to 'see the world', 'be all you can be', and
other tempting tag lines. As I walked past I remember thinking that I
wanted to see the world and be all I could be. The longer I let those two
lines play in my head the more I considered that the military was what I
really needed. I walked around the block still thinking about seeing the
world and finding my place in it when I realized I was opening the door
to the recruiting office. I was immediately greeted by a guy not too much
older than I. He was friendly and helpful as he answered my questions and
encouraged me to fill out forms. I'm not at all certain now if I was
caught up in his sales pitch, if I was desperate to get away from my
current life and find another, or if I really thought the military was
the place for me. In any event I filled out the forms and was slated to
go into the army for the next three years provided I passed the physical.

Those first several weeks were the only time anything ever happened fast
while I was in the military. I was tested one day and physically
inspected the next. It was only a brief wait until I was on a plane to
basic training and then to my specialty training. In all their wisdom the
military decided that I would make a good medic. When the training began,
I wasn't exactly certain what I would be doing. As I got more into the
training and learned of my next duty station, I found out that I would be
working in an army hospital. Had anyone bothered to ask me I'd have
gladly told them that I hated the sight of blood, but in typical military
fashion, no one ever bothered to ask my opinion when it counted. For the
next two and a half years I was stationed at two military hospitals ^Ö
the first on the east coast and the second in the northwest. I wasn't a
nurse, but it seemed that I did all of the same things a nurse would be
doing. There always seemed to be a critical nurse shortage, but that
didn't seem to slow the rate at which patients were admitted. I watched,
learned, and did whatever was necessary. My superiors saw that as taking
initiative. I saw it as simply doing what needed to be done for the men
and women in the hospital ward I worked.

Being stationed in each of those areas allowed me to continue my
education during the day because I worked evenings at the hospitals. I
was regularly promoted during my time in the army. I was skilled at what
I did, but most importantly I had a way with the patients and the staff.
I really liked all of the guys I cared for during my stay in the army.
Most all of them were young guys who were hurt in training accidents.
There were broken arms and legs, but there were also more serious
accidents ^Ö many of which would have a lifetime impact on the young man
or woman involved. Nothing was more difficult than seeing a young man
arrive with a serious spinal injury and knowing he would be confined to a
wheelchair at the age of 20. Maintaining a positive attitude and
encouraging them to be positive was harder than any other part of the
job.

When I was discharged from the army, I knew a few more things than when I
enlisted. First I knew that I wasn't interested in a career in medicine.
Second I knew that I liked the Pacific Northwest. Third I knew that I had
enough money from the military to complete my degree and pursue a
Master's degree if I decided to go in that direction. Forth I knew what
caused my restlessness and lack of direction. I was gay. That fact wasn't
a total shock to me. Accepting the fact was far more difficult than
anything I'd ever done. I'd grown up in a straight world. I didn't really
know anyone who was gay ^Ö never had. My perception of myself changed. My
family was basically southern baptist, rednecked conservatives. I'd
always been that too ^Ö at least on some levels. I wasn't the redneck my
family seemed to be, but there were signs of it in me. My parents wanted
me to come back home to rural Georgia after the service. When they
wouldn't seem to listen to the fact that I liked where I was, I told them
I was gay. That ended their requests for me to return home. It also
stopped all communication on their part. I did write a few letters and
send cards for birthdays and holidays, but they didn't send anything to
me. I'd been on my own for the last three years, but there was always
that safety net of family back home. Now I was really on my own with no
safety net at all. I remember being sad about that at the time, but I
knew that I couldn't change my sexuality or my family. It seemed that
being true to myself was more important.

So there I was... a 23 year old virgin (with respect to sex with men at
least) alone in my new world. I wasn't bad looking. Most of the women I
worked with at the hospitals found me attractive enough to let me know
that they'd like to go out with me. I'm 5'11", 180 pounds, black hair,
and blue eyes. The army tends to keep you in good physical condition. I
entered in good shape, and came out even better. I was toned and defined.
Working out was one of the few things there was to do on the base. I
always enjoyed the solitude of working out. It was a chance to work off
the frustration and stress from the job. It also gave me time alone with
my thoughts.

My first challenge was to find housing. I looked in the older part of
town because the rents were cheaper there than other areas. I had three
places picked to look at the first time I went in search of my first
apartment. The first two were dumps. I was discouraged and feeling like
I'd be wasting my time looking at the third, but since I'd made the
appointment I went to see it. The building owner, Saul, showed me the
place he had open. When I called there were two openings ^Ö a one bedroom
apartment and a two bedroom apartment. By the time I arrived for my
appointment, the one bedroom had already been rented. I looked at the two
bedroom apartment. Saul's building was probably built in the 30's, but it
had been updated over the years and was well maintained and clean. The
apartment was huge compared to the others I'd seen. It was older, but the
rooms were large. There were lots of windows. The kitchen was more modern
than the others, and the appliances were newer. The rent was also about
$150.00 more than I budgeted for rent. As I was looking at the apartment
and talking with Saul, I mentioned the fact that I was on a strict budget
and didn't think I could afford it. We talked longer ^Ö mostly about
me... where I was from, what I was going to be doing, what I'd been
doing, etc. Saul was generally a very nice guy and would be an excellent
landlord. I really wanted the place, but I didn't have the luxury of not
worrying about money. In the end Saul offered me the place with a $100.00
reduction in the rent if I would vacuum the hallways once each week,
change the light bulbs that might go out in the public areas, and pick up
any trash around the building. I decided it was a fair trade. I wrote
Saul a check for the rent and deposit. I was the new proud tenant of
Saul's building.

As Saul and I continued talking, I suddenly realized that the only things
I had to move in were some clothes ^Ö most of which were uniforms I would
no longer need, my stereo, my computer, and a very limited number of
personal items. I mentioned to Saul that it would take me about an hour
to move in the things that I owned. I asked him if he knew of a good
second hand store for basic furniture. I figured I'd need a bed and sofa
and a table. Saul told me that he knew of a few people in the business
and would keep an eye out to let me know. Since I still had two duty days
left before my actual discharge date, I continued to live on base. Not
having a car would prove to be a problem. I'd saved most of my pay over
the last three years. I had planned to spend a very modest amount on a
car of some sort, but the bulk of the money was to be my cushion while I
was in school.

One of my army buddies transported my few things to my new apartment that
last day after work. I'd picked up some beer already and would take him
to dinner that night after we had unloaded his pickup. When I unlocked
the door to my new apartment, I was shocked to see that it had been
furnished. At first I thought I had the wrong place, but checking the
apartment number confirmed that I was indeed in the right place. I
wandered around the apartment looking at all of the 'new' used furniture.
I found a note from Saul in the kitchen. He told me that he'd got all the
furniture from an old friend of his who was moving to Arizona. The used
furniture all looked basically new ^Ö or at least newer. There were more
things than I'd ever have bought for myself. When I opened cupboards and
drawers in the kitchen, they too were filled with all the necessary items
as well as some things I was certain I'd never use. The bathroom had
towels and a shower curtain. The bedrooms had linens and blankets and a
bedspreads. It really was like walking into a completely furnished home!

My buddy and I drank a couple of beers each before we headed to a
restaurant a couple blocks from the apartment building. Once there I
called Saul to thank him for all he did for me, and to ask him how much I
owed him for all of it. I really didn't plan to spend more than $1,000.00
for all of the things I'd need. I knew that much money wouldn't get me a
lot of things, but it would cover the basics. Saul told me that it was
all free since the couple was moving to a new condo in Palm Springs,
California and getting all new things. He said that all he wanted was the
money it cost to rent the truck they used to move the furniture ^Ö just
over $100.00. I continued to thank Saul profusely for his help. I told
him he'd be my first guest for dinner. He was free that coming Friday
evening so we made plans to have dinner at my new place at 6:00.

That night at dinner Saul and I talked about his life. He was a German
Jew. He came to this country after the war. He'd been in a prison camp
along with his family and most of the people he knew. During his stay in
the camp he saw his father shot and killed, his sisters taken to another
location ^Ö never to be heard from again, and his mother severely
crippled. His own personal experiences were equally as bad. He was but 16
when he entered the camp. Despite trying to simply survive the
experiences there, he was selected to be a test subject for sadistic
medical research. The 'research' had left him sterile. Saul had scars all
over his groin area from the butchering done during the research. As a
result he had bladder problems with urinary track problems resulting from
infections he got after various aspects of the 'research'. Most of the
surgeries inflicted on Saul had been done without the use of any
anesthetics. I couldn't even begin to imagine the pain one must
experience as the body is cut into without something to deaden the pain.
He told me that the point of the research was to find the fastest way to
castrate the Jews.

Saul never married. He didn't think any woman would ever want him once
she saw what had been done to him. He could never have intercourse. I
could tell as we talked that Saul really would have been an excellent
husband and father. He was kind and caring and considerate. I told Saul
that I was adopting him as my father since mine disowned me. When he
asked why I told him. Saul wasn't put off or bothered by my
homosexuality. He took the news in stride.

Saul was in his late 60's when we first met. We had dinner together each
week after I moved into his building. Saul had a house a few miles away.
Once each month he would invite me to his home for dinner. It would have
likely been more often, but Saul didn't cook much anymore. He always
seemed happy to have me there, and he seemed to hate it when I'd leave at
the end of the evening. Over the course of that first year I began to do
more things for Saul around the building and occasionally at his home.
The building was six floors. The first floor had commercial tenants ^Ö a
beauty salon, a chiropractor, a deli and coffee shop, and a real estate
office. The top five floors had eight apartments on each floor ^Ö six
one-bedroom units and two two-bedroom units on each floor. My apartment
was on the second floor over the real estate office. There was a parking
lot in the back of the building for tenants as well as customers of the
commercial businesses.

Saul and I also did more things socially. I celebrated the Jewish
holidays with him and his friends, and he celebrated the Christian
holidays with me and occasionally some of my friends. We exchanged gifts
on birthdays and holidays. We talked a lot about life ^Ö his experiences,
my experiences, and the direction I was headed ^Ö career goals, personal
goals, etc.

After I graduated from college, Saul was instrumental in helping me get
my first job. I had a degree in accounting. I was hired by someone Saul
knew who ran a medium sized accounting firm. It was a perfect opportunity
for me, and one I'd likely never have received without Saul's help. My
boss and the owner of the business strongly encouraged me to take more
classes and become a CPA. I took his advice. I worked days and took
evening classes the next two years. I was now a CPA for the firm ^Ö that
brought more prestige and more money. I found I really enjoyed the work I
was doing.

I had just turned 26 when Saul first became sick. Saul had cancer, and
there wasn't anything that could be done to eliminate it. Saul was
content with his situation and faced it bravely. He often commented that
he was amazed he'd lived as long as he had considering what he'd been
through. Saul was in and out of the hospital for the next several months.
I often took him when he needed to go for tests, and would visit when he
had to spend a night or two. Saul was very adamant about not being
confined to the hospital or a nursing home. He wanted to face his death
on his own terms. He wanted to die at home. When it got to the point
where Saul needed help to stay on his own, I moved into his home with him
to take care of him. I spent my vacation that year taking care of Saul's
needs so he could be at home when he died. Having been a medic I knew
what needed to be done to care for him. I was able to administer his pain
medication to make him comfortable. Beyond that there really wasn't much
more that could be done. Saul died during my third week at his home.

Saul's death was the hardest event I've ever experienced to that point.
He was a dear friend and adviser and confidant and father figure.
Watching him slip away was painful for me. He'd really been my closest
friend and strongest supporter. It seemed so unfair, but he'd faced so
many experiences in life that no one should ever experience. I knew he'd
at least be at peace and free of the pain - physical and emotional - that
had always lingered under his kind, gentle facade since he was just 16.

His funeral was the next day. I was amazed at the number of people ^Ö
friends, business associates, acquaintances ^Ö who attended the service.
Saul wanted me to speak at his funeral service so I'd started writing the
eulogy when he told me of his wishes. I could easily have talked for
hours telling those gathered about the Saul I knew ^Ö his kindness, his
help, his generosity, his love, but I shortened the speech to just under
15 minutes. As I delivered it, my tears and frequent starts and stops to
control my emotions caused it to last twice as long as intended. After
the burial everyone gathered at a reception. So many people, some I knew
and others I didn't, took the opportunity to tell me how much Saul
enjoyed my friendship over the years. I was grateful for their kind
words. Knowing that he care for me as much as I cared about him somehow
made it easier to accept his death.

I didn't work the rest of the week. I spent that time considering Saul.
He'd was a major influence in my life for the short time we'd known each
other. I vowed to be more like him ^Ö kind to others, helpful when I
could be, considerate of others, positive despite the events of my life,
and most of all an example to be emulated by others. There was indeed a
noticeable emptiness in my life where Saul had been. I'd been so busy
caring for him those last few weeks that I hardly knew what to do to
occupy my time. I also wondered what effect Saul's death would have on
other aspects of my life. In those last days he talked of his donation to
a local Jewish center. I'd never wondered how much Saul was financially
worth. His donation to the center would provide money for a much needed
remodel and enlargement of the facility. He asked that I dedicate the new
facility when it was complete. I promised that I would certainly do that
for him. The new building would carry his name, and become a living and
viable tribute to the man he was.

When I did go back to work the next week, I buried myself in the many
projects that were on my desk. I didn't want to do much more than work.
Work gave me the chance to lose myself in numbers and strategies. Those
weeks of twelve hour days gave me peace of mind. The following week I had
a message on my home phone from a lawyer saying he represented Saul's
estate. I returned the call to find that Saul had left some things to me
in his will. At the time I was sure the things he left would be personal
items that only I would find value in having. When I arrived at the
reading of the will, I was surprised to find that I was the only one
present. Saul had made arrangements to leave nearly a million dollars to
the Jewish center. The remainder of his estate was left to me. The
remainder of his estate included the building I lived in as well as two
other commercial properties in town, his home and all of the contents
including his prised Cadillac that was purchased only a few months before
he became ill, and just over a half million dollars. All of the taxes for
my portion of the estate were paid out of another account so that I was
actually getting all of the things Saul left to me. I was floored that he
was worth so much. He never said or did anything to indicate that he was
worth so much money. His new Cadillac every year was his biggest and
flashiest possession. I sat in the lawyer's office and cried. I didn't
want the things Saul left me. I wanted Saul back. I'd gladly have given
it all back for just one more day with Saul. I missed him so much. As I
gradually gained control of my emotions, the lawyer played a video tape
Saul made several months prior to his illness. Aside from stating what
the lawyer had read from the will, Saul talked about how much I enriched
his life, how grateful he was for my care and concern and compassion, and
how proud he was of me. The lawyer gave me the video and all of the
paperwork that related to the will. He also gave me keys to a safe
deposit box.

Life went on for me and the rest of the world. I monitored the
construction at the Jewish center and had regular meetings with the board
of directors of the center to ensure that Saul's wishes were being
followed. Saul had an enormous collection of clippings, books, and
memorabilia from World War Two and the Jewish experience in Germany
during that time. I wanted all of this information to be housed in the
center so that it could be appreciated by everyone. After a few months I
finally decided to move into Saul's house. That wasn't an easy decision
on my part. On the one hand I had a house of my own, but on the other
hand it would be a constant reminder of Saul and the fact that he was
dead. One of Saul's close friends, Helga, convinced me that I should move
into the house. She told me that Saul would be disappointed if I didn't
liven the place up with new paint and carpets and furniture. She produced
a note to me from Saul that he dictated to her during his last days. I
remember when she visited and asked for some paper and a pen. Saul did
indeed envision that I would make his house my home. He told me I'd lived
with hand-me-downs long enough. I took the advice.

The carpets were all changed, the walls painted, new windows installed,
new tile in the kitchen and bathrooms, new window coverings (treatments
she called them) and new furniture in nearly all of the rooms. Saul had
some wonderful old pieces of furniture that I kept and incorporated into
the new look of the place. With the help of Helga and her granddaughter
who was an interior decorator with one of the best furniture stores in
the area, the house soon reflected my personality and lifestyle. It was a
large older brick home, but the exterior was timeless. Outside I
increased the size of the patio, added a hot tub, and had some of the
larger bushes taken out and smaller items planted to open up the large
yard. The basement (an area I'd never been in before) was a wonderful old
space ^Ö retro 70's it seemed, but in reality all of the items were
authentic and likely purchased back then. The largest area was devoted to
a games room with a pool table, shuffleboard table, ping pong table, and
a couple of poker tables. One wall of the room was a full bar with red
leather and chrome barstools and red leather trim over the padded arm
rest that ran the length of the bar. The back wall was the back bar of an
old hotel that had been modified to fit the space. The dark, rich, and
well polished mahogany set with mirrors and antique light fixtures gave
the impression of actually being in a cocktail lounge rather than a
personal home. The shelves were filled with various bottles of spirits
and glassware. It seemed the only thing missing was a crowd of anxious
people awaiting happy hour. Helga told of times when the room was filled
with their friends ^Ö all laughing and drinking and celebrating life...
the good times!

My life as a gay man started when I was 23. I'd had sex with a few women
prior to that time because that was what was supposed to happen according
to the way I was raised. It never felt right or complete, but I kept
trying for a few years. Accepting that I was gay wasn't nearly as
difficult as I thought it would be. I suppose that was because I never
saw my sexuality as a defining aspect of who I was as a person, but
rather as a small part of me. After moving into my own place I did
frequent the gay bars in town. The first bar I found was a leather bar.
At the time I didn't realize what that was about, but I didn't feel
comfortable there probably because I wasn't dressed like the majority of
patrons and had no desire to dress that way. I eventually found a night
club that had a younger clientèle. The patrons were all much more
attractive than the other bars I'd tried. I stayed, drank some, danced a
little, and brought a young man home with me. The sex we had was
certainly better than what I'd experienced before, but something was
still lacking. I went several more times and picked up several more young
men. The sex with each of these young men was certainly good, but in each
case something always seemed to be missing. I found out what that was
during my last semester of college. I met a man there whom I dated and
had a five month relationship with prior to graduating. The sex we shared
was so much more personal and much more intense because of the personal
relationship we shared. I don't think either of us was in love with the
other, but we did know, like, and respect each other. I don't know that
we'd ever have grown to love each other. We seemed best suited to be
friends and partners in sex than lovers. Regardless of all that, he left
for another city after graduation so we didn't have the opportunity to
explore further. Kevin taught me a lot during our time together. He was
far more experienced sexually than I, and I benefited from his experience
and learned from the many pleasures he gave me. I was eager to become a
great lover/sex partner. What I lacked in experience I certainly made up
for in my eagerness to try new things to provide the most pleasure for my
partner.

So for the last few years I've been looking for that one man for me. I
didn't completely avoid the bars and the one night stands, but my visits
to the bars and the one night stands were few and far between. I didn't
smoke or do drugs so the stale, smoky atmosphere of the bars was reason
enough not to go. In addition I found that most of the guys in the bars
really didn't have the same interests I had. I wanted a relationship,
commitment, loyalty, monogamy, love. Most of the guys I met said they
wanted the same thing, but were far too willing to simply fuck the best
looking guy they could attract regardless of where it lead. Their ideas
of long term relationships were measured in weeks and months rather than
a lifetime. I wasn't in a rush to find the man of my dreams. My life was
full. I was always ready for him to come along, but I wasn't chasing or
cruising or scheming to find him.

And so I'd been in my 'new' home for a few months when I encountered Jon.
It was a perfect spring evening so I decided to walk to the small grocery
store about a half mile from my home. I really only needed milk for the
morning, but I was certain I'd find other things to pick up when I got
inside. My purchases filled a small grocery bag (a gallon of milk and a
few candy bars and a box of powdered sugar donuts). As I was on my way
out of the store, Irving ^Ö the store owner, asked if I'd drop a bag of
trash in his dumpster in the alley behind his store. Irving was in his
60's and used a cane to support himself when he walked. I didn't mind
helping him out so I took the trash bag as I left the store. As I placed
the bag in the dumpster in the dark alley I noticed a sock covered foot
sticking out from an area where broken down cardboard boxes were placed
for pickup. I walked the few paces closer and started to move the boxes
when I was startled by a young guy sandwiched between the boxes. He tried
to pull back into a defensive position as I pulled the top boxes away.
I'm sure I scared him. I know his quick movements scared me. As my eyes
adjusted to the dim light in the alley, I could see that he'd seen better
days. I asked,

"What are you doing here? Are you ok? Do you need help?"

"It's a public place. I can be here. Get the fuck away from me." he
more yelled than spoke.

"You don't look so good. What happened to you? Maybe I should have
Irving call the police or an ambulance. It looks like you need some
help." I tried.

"Fuck you! I don't need any fuckin' help. Don't fuckin' call the cops."
he retorted.

"Were you in a fight? You've got blood all over your face and shirt.
Your shirt is ripped. You do need some help. I won't hurt you. Just let
me take a closer look to see the damage." I said in a calm voice as I
moved slowly closer to him and knelt down on the ground. He allowed me to
touch the top of his head as I tilted his head back some to get a clearer
look at his face in the dim light. I touched his nose, and he jerked his
head away from me.

"Get the fuck off me. That hurt! I thought you said you weren't gonna
hurt me. Fuck you!" he yelled again.

"Look kid... I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just checking to see if
your nose was broken." I replied.

"Is it broken?" he asked.

"It doesn't seem to be, but it is so hard to tell in this light. Why
don't you come with me so I can get a better look. I won't hurt you.
You'll be safe." I said.

"Where are you gonna take me? I ain't goin' to the hospital or
nothin'." he said.

"Well I could take you into the store if Irving hasn't locked up yet."
I tried.

"I ain't goin' in the store. That old guy said he'd call the cops if I
came back. I don't need the fuckin' cops." he stated in a calmer manner.

"Well then how about if I take you to my place? It isn't too far to go.
I've got supplies there to help clean your wounds and bandage you up." I
offered.

"Why do you wanna take me there? What's you deal?" he asked.

"Well I can't just leave you here knowing you're hurt. It seems like the
best option if you don't want the cops involved." I stated.

"I don't have any shoes. Those fuckers stole them." he said.

"It's a sidewalk all the way to my place so it shouldn't be too bad
without shoes. We'll find a way to get you another pair tomorrow." I
said.

He moved some of the boxes around to free himself from the nest he'd
built. He had what seemed to be a nearly empty pack next to him. This
wasn't the usual back pack most kids used, but rather one designed for
hiking trips. He started to stand up, but didn't make it to his feet. I
offered him my hand for help as I stood over him. He took it. I pulled
him to his feet. He was obviously hurt in more places than his face. He
was standing on his left foot and favoring his right. I knelt back down
and gently touched his swollen ankle. I could tell from his flinch that
it hurt. The ankle was swollen ^Ö likely sprained. I took his back pack
and picked up the clothes and personal items that were scattered around
him and stuffed them back into the pack. I placed my purchases in the
pack and then put it on and secured the front straps. The kid continued
to try to put weight on his right foot, but each time he winced with the
pain of the attempt. He was at least a couple of inches taller than me,
but probably 40 to 50 pounds lighter. I figured I could carry him if I
had to, but decided that it would be easier for both of us if I supported
most of his weight so he didn't have to use his right foot to walk the
six blocks to my place. I had him put his right arm around my neck then I
held him around his waist pulling him close to me so he was nearly riding
on my hip. At that close range it was obvious that he hadn't bathed for a
long while. It took a little while to get a rhythm established as I
walked and he hopped, but we eventually made it to my house and the
bathroom off my bedroom. I placed him on the closed toilet, took off the
pack and rested it against the wall.

"We made it!" I stated in a happy tone.

"What are you gonna do to me?" he asked with a strong hint of fear in
his voice.

"First of all I'm gonna clean up your wounds. Then I'm gonna have you
take a bath since you won't be able to stand in the shower. Once you are
clean I'm gonna fix something for you to eat if you're hungry. After that
I'm going to give you some Advil for the pain and put you to bed." I
stated.

With that said I helped him remove his torn shirt. His t-shirt was also
torn and bloody so I pulled it up from his waist telling him to raise his
arms. As he did he winced again. As his t-shirt came off I could see why
he was in pain. His chest and sides were badly bruised. He'd been hit and
likely kicked. I was sure that he had bruised ribs. I hoped none were
broken. I asked him why he didn't tell me this before since I knew that
raising his arm to put over my shoulder must have hurt like hell on the
walk here. He indicated that his ankle hurt worse than his ribs. I was
certain that was changing because of the strain to his ribs and muscles
there likely increased the inflammation of that area.

I got several wash cloths and a bath towel from the linen closet outside
the bathroom. I ran warm water in the sink and soaked a few of the wash
cloths. I started with the cut over his left eye. The eye was already
black from the bruise and quickly closing up on him. I cleaned the area
as he winced from the pain of the water getting into the cut. The cut
wasn't deep, but it was long through the eyebrow. After that eye was
cleaned up I started with the nose. It was swollen and had bled a lot,
but it wasn't broken... thank God. His lip was also cut and swollen. I
cleaned that area next. His left ear was puffy with a minor cut. He'd
have a bruise there by his ear in the morning. There were no cuts on his
chest or stomach so there wasn't much I could do there. After his bath I
would wrap the area with an elastic bandage. His palms were scraped from
hitting the pavement when he fell. His knuckles on his right had were
also scraped ^Ö perhaps from getting in a good blow or two of his own.
They would be cleaned by soaking in the tub. I took off his socks. They
smelled of too many days wear. I pulled his pant leg up. Touching the
ankle was painful, but I did get him to move it around some. The skin
wasn't broken, and I couldn't feel any bones poking the skin. I was
confidant it was just a bad sprain. I would wrap that too after his bath.
I helped him stand on his one good leg and started to unfasten his pants.
He pulled away saying,

"What the fuck do you think you're doing ya fag? Get the fuck away from
me."

"Hey... sooner or later you're gonna have to take them off to get into
the tub. I don't think you can do that on your own, but you're welcome to
try." I said.

"I can take care of myself. Just give me my shit. I'm leaving." he
yelled.

"Suit yourself, Jon. I was trying to help you, but if you don't want or
need the help then it was my mistake. Here's your shirts and socks. I'll
just take my things out of your pack and then you'll be set to leave." I
tried.

I took the shopping bag from his pack and left the bathroom. I put the
milk in the fridge and put the other items in the cupboard. I got a beer
from the fridge as I wasted more time than necessary in the kitchen so
Jon would have time to dress and leave. I'd been gone about 15 minutes
when I decided I'd go back to the bathroom to check his progress. He had
his left sock back on and was struggling with the right one. He couldn't
bend his right knee without pain and he couldn't bend over because of his
ribs. He was a bit of a comical sight. I just looked at him as I leaned
against the door frame. He said,

"I can't do it." he whispered as tears began to run down his cheeks.

"Are you ready for me to help you get undressed and in the bath tub?" I
asked.

He nodded his head to indicate he was ready for my help. This time he
allowed me to remove his pants and what were once white briefs. I covered
him with the bath towel as I moved to fill the tub with water. I added
lavender scented bath beads to the water. When the water was at the right
temperature and level, I set his bath towel aside and helped him stand.
He hobbled to the tub as I held him. I told him that it would sting when
the water touched the places where he had open cuts ^Ö his knees and
hands. He nodded. I held him while he placed his left foot in the tub and
continued to hold him as he seated himself in the warm water. He did
wince a couple of times, but gradually settled back into the warm and
relaxing water of the tub. I turned on the jaccuzi so the water would
circulate around his battered body and help him relax. He soaked for
about 20 minutes before I came back to start washing him.

I started with his hair. I applied shampoo three times before the greasy
feel disappeared. I noticed as I did that his hair turned from a mousy
color to light blond. I used a wash cloth to wash his face. The soap hurt
the cuts, but he didn't complain. I then scrubbed his neck and back and
arms. I washed his upper body before I moved to his feet. As I washed up
his legs he moved them apart to allow me access to his private parts. I
was surprised when he didn't protest, but I suppose he figured he be
stuck in the tub for the rest of his life if he refused my help. Before I
rinsed him with the hand held sprayer, I had him kneel in the tub so I
could clean his ass. He was bruised on both cheeks ^Ö likely from being
kicked several times. As I washed between his cheeks and between his legs
I noticed what appeared to be a rash between his legs. I cleaned the area
then helped him stand on his good leg as I rinsed the soap from his body.
I lifted him out of the tub and sat him on the toilet then dried his body
starting with his hair. I had him raise his arms as much as possible so I
could apply a deodorant then I helped him into a thick terry robe.

In the kitchen I sat him on a chair at the table. While he was soaking I
heated some lasagna that I'd had for dinner. I also made a salad and
warmed some garlic bread. I placed the food in front of him with a large
glass of milk and told him to eat until he was full. He was cramming food
into his mouth when I came back with the elastic bandages. He ate two
large helpings of the lasagna, the salad, and all of the bread. I offered
him more, but he said that he was full. As we talked I learned that he
hadn't eaten since the morning before. I then wrapped his ankle and
ribcage. I then helped him to the family room and a more comfortable seat
on the couch there. He sighed as he sat down. I asked if he wanted to
talk about what happened. He said,

"There ain't much to tell. I got the shit kicked out of me."

"Do you know who did it?" I asked.

"A couple of guys. I don't know who they were. I guess they saw me
askin' people for money for food. This one guy gave me $5.00. By then I
had about $10.00 so I walked to the store to get something to eat. These
two guys follow me in and start talkin' shit to me and pushin' me around.
Some stuff in the store falls over and gets knocked on the floor. That's
went the guy at the store tells us to get out or he's callin' the cops. I
shoulda stayed in the store, but I left. The guys dragged me out in the
alley and beat the shit outa me. They took my money and mosta my stuff."
He shrugged as he finished.

"I think you'll survive your injuries, but it will take a while before
you're completely healed. The ankle and ribs will take the longest to get
better. You will be sore for a bit. How old are you?" I asked.

"I'm 18." He said.

"Let's try that again. How old are you? I asked once more.

"I'll be 16 in a week or so. What's the date today?" He asked.

"Today is Friday the 16th of March." I told him.

"So yea... I'll be 16 in eight days." He said.

"How did you end up on the streets? Your accent tells me you aren't from
here. How did you get here?" I asked.

"Well I came here from Texas, but I think I was born in Oklahoma. I came
up here lookin' for my dad. I found some stuff my mom had about this guy
she said was my dad. I didn't find him, but I found one of his brothers.
He wasn't my dad since he was black ^Ö real black. My mom just up and
left about two months ago. Her boyfriend or I guess ex-boyfriend told me
to get lost a few days later. I didn't know where else to go. So I been
on my own for a couple of months now." He looked at me with a hopeless
look as he finished answering my questions.

"What do you plan to do next? Are you headed back to Texas? I asked.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do. I been here for about three weeks. I
been places tryin' to get a job, but no one will just hire me. They all
say they'll call me for an interview, but I don't have a place to live so
I don't have a phone. There ain't any reason to go back to Texas. I guess
I'll just stay here for a while. I don't know what else to do." He said
with that same sad look.

"Do you smoke or do drugs? I asked.

"I can't even get enough money for food most days. I'd never do drugs,
and I don't smoke. My mom and her boyfriend did drugs. They fucked up
their lives and mine too." he replied with conviction.

"You can stay here while you mend if you want to. Maybe you can use the
time to figure out what you want to do next." I offered.

"Whadda I gotta do for you? Are you some sorta fag?" he asked.

"I don't think of myself as a fag, but I am gay. You don't have to do
anything for me aside from making the best use of the time to heal and
decide what you want to do with your life. I've got spare bedrooms. You
will be sleeping in one of them. You don't have anything to be concerned
about." I stated.

"Why are you gonna let me stay here? No one ever just does something
nice for someone without getting something for themselves outa it." he
remarked.

"Some people do. A few years ago a man named Saul helped me. I'm
offering you help now. You can take it or leave it. That is up to you. I
can't help you if you don't want the help. I expect you to treat me and
my home with respect." I told him.

"Were you homeless too?" he asked.

"I was just out of the army. I was in a new town and finishing college.
I needed an apartment. Saul had one for rent, but it was more than I
could afford so he let me work for a reduction in the rent. We became
friends... the best of friends." I said.

"Is he like your boyfriend or something? Where is he now? Does he live
here too? He asked.

"Saul died nearly a year ago. He was in his 70's. He was a friend and a
father figure to me. This was his home. He left it to me when he died."
I said.

"He did that for you and you didn't have to do anything for him? I don't
believe it. I hitched a ride in Texas and this fat, old, ugly trucker
told me that I'd have to suck his dick if I wanted a ride. I was already
in the truck and we were drivin' down the road when he told me that shit
and grabbed at my dick and damn near crushed my nuts. Luckily he had to
slow down to make a sharp turn. When he did I jumped outa the truck and
ran as fast as I could." He related.

"Saul wasn't like that, and neither am I. I'd like you to be honest with
me. I will be with you. I'd like you to feel comfortable in my home, but
I expect you to treat my things with respect. I'd like you to enjoy your
stay. If you want to talk about anything, I'm here to listen. If you want
advice, I'll help you get it. If you want help, I'll do what I can to
help you. What I'd like you to do is really think about what you want for
your life. If I can help you attain that goal, I will. This is your time
to look at where you are today and decide where you really want to go
next. I'm not talking about on the road or in the streets unless that is
the life you want to have for yourself. Think about all the
possibilities. Think about what other kids your age are doing. Decide
what you want to do." I said.

"I don't have too many choices. I gotta find a way to take care of
myself. If I could get a job, I could rent a room some place then I'd be
set.: he told me.

"Well think about everything ^Ö even what kind of a job you'd like to
have. You never know, I just might know someone who knows someone else
who needs the skills you have. Now I want to talk about the rash you have
between your legs. I suspect that has just started the last week or two.
I'm sure it itches a lot and probably hurts." I told him.

"Yea it itches. It only hurts when I get hot and sweat." he said.

"I've got an ointment I want to put on you there. Is that ok with you?"
I asked.

"You've seen it already so yea I guess. Is it gonna hurt? He asked.

"No it won't hurt. It should stop the itching. I'll put some on tonight
and again tomorrow morning. I think it will clear up in a couple of
days." I told him.

"What's it from?" He asked

"It's from not getting the chance to wash that area daily and also from
not getting to wear clean underwear daily." I said.

"Oh... yea I haven't had clean clothes since Texas, and I don't think
the stuff was actually clean when I packed it. I didn't have a lot of
time to get out of the place. Stan, my mom's ex, left with his stuff that
morning so I just packed up my stuff that same day and took off. Stan
said the sheriff was coming to evict us from the place so it was best to
be gone when he got there or I'd end up in some home for unwanted kids."
He said with that sad look.

I helped him to the bathroom for a nightly piss before I took him to the
bedroom he'd be using while he stayed with me. It was across and just
down the hall from mine. I turned down the bed then helped him out of the
robe and had him lay on the bed. I got the ointment from my bathroom. I
had him spread his legs open and raise his knees. I smeared the ointment
along the area between his legs and balls being careful not to give the
impression that I was fondling him ^Ö just moving them out of the way.
When the one side was finished I did the other. I also put a liberal
amount between his legs behind his balls where the skin was also very red
and irritated. As I applied the ointment, Jon got an erection. It was
very obvious ^Ö not because it was so big... it wasn't, but because his
face and neck were completely red. As I looked at him he blurted out that
he wasn't a fag or anything. I told him that guys his age got erections
when the wind blew over ten miles an hour. I let him know that his
erection was normal and not to worry. I also told him that he probably
hadn't had a chance to jack off in a while so he was probably in need. He
turned even a darker shade of red. I pulled the covers over his lower
body then left with the ointment. On the way back I grabbed a bottle of
lubricant and a hand towel. I put them both on the table next to Jon's
bed and told him he could use the lube to grease his dick and the towel
to wipe up the cum. He got a darker shade of red again as I smiled and
headed toward the door. I told him to call me if he needed anything
during the night.

I was up early the next morning. I made a pot of coffee then made a quick
list of the things Jon would need. The list wasn't too long since I was
just getting the basics. I'd get other things if and when he needed them.
The first item on the list was a pair of crutches. I also added some
basic clothing, socks, t-shirts, underwear, a couple pairs of pants ^Ö
probably sweats since I wasn't sure of his size, a couple of shirts, and
some sort of slipper/shoe that he could wear around the house until the
swelling in his ankle and foot went down. About an hour later I started
breakfast. I heard Jon call me from his bedroom. He was sitting on the
side of the bed when I arrived. He needed to go to the bathroom. I helped
him put on the robe then helped him hobble to the bathroom. I left him
with the door partially open waiting for his call. He called a few
minutes later so I went to get him. Once he was seated at the table I
finished making breakfast. It wasn't fancy. We had bacon, scrambled eggs,
pancakes, and some fresh melon. Jon ate like there might not be more food
later. I really didn't understand how such a skinny kid could pack away
so much food, but figured that his height alone indicated that he was
several pounds underweight. It wouldn't hurt for him to bulk up some as
long as it didn't all turn into fat. I'd have to take him to the gym with
me once his injuries healed and if he was still around. After breakfast
we talked a bit...

"How did you sleep last night, Jon?"

"Real good. That is a comfortable bed. I've never slept in a bed so
comfortable before. Back home I slept on the couch. Your whole house is
pretty nice. I guess you must be rich."

"No, I'm not rich. I work. I did get some things from Saul when he died,
and the income from those things does help he out a lot, but I wouldn't
say that I'm rich or anything. I guess comfortable would be the best way
to describe it."

"What kinda work do you do?

"I'm a CPA. That is a fancy term for bookkeeper/accountant. I audit
different businesses to make sure their books are in order. I make
suggestions to them to help them save money or take advantage of tax
incentives... that sort of thing. It probably doesn't sound very
interesting, but it's something I enjoy. What do you enjoy most at
school?"

"I haven't been to school all that much in the last couple of years.
When my mom and Stan first got together we moved around a lot. The last
place we lived at seemed that most of the time we didn't have power or
water. They slept most of the day and did drugs at night. Since I slept
in the living room it was hard to sleep while they were making noise.
After awhile I started not to care that I wasn't going to school, but at
first I really missed school. I always like school."

"Do you read a lot Jon?"

"I used to walk to the library in the afternoons and stay there until it
closed. I read all kinds of books. I like history a lot and biology too.
I was pretty good at math when I was a kid, but I haven't studied math
for a long time now. I like reading though. Sometimes if the book was
really good it would seem like I was the main character in the story. I
don't know... it just seemed like I could have a better life by reading
the book. That probably sounds stupid."

"No, it isn't stupid at all. Really good stories make the reader feel
like they are a part of what's happening in the book. I read a lot too."

"I miss the library in Texas. The old woman who ran it was always really
nice to me. She'd even bring in cookies sometimes for me. When she wasn't
busy we'd talk about the books I was reading, and she'd tell me about
other books I might like to read. She was good at picking books for me.
Maybe when I get settled I can find the library here."

"Well in the mean time I have some books in the den. You are welcome to
read any of them you're interested in. I know it is hard for you to get
around right now, but I'm going to the store today to pick up a set of
crutches for you. That way you'll be able to walk around on your own."

"I never had crutches before."

"I'll adjust them and teach you how to use them when I get back. Is
there anything else you need from the store?"

"I don't have any money."

"I know you don't, but that doesn't matter. If there is something you
need or really want, I'll try to get it for you."

"Wow... no one ever did that for me before. I can't think of anything
that I need. Well I guess I need shoes, but my mom always just took me to
the Goodwill store so I could try them on so I got a pair that fit. I
guess that will have to wait until I can walk again. Is there a Goodwill
store here?"

"There is a Goodwill store here. I've got a pair of shoes on my list of
things to get for you. I was thinking of a slipper or similar shoe that
will be easy for you to slip on and off while you aren't able to tie your
shoes. Your feet look to be about the same size as mine so I think if I
find something that fits me then it should fit you too."

"That's cool! Would you put that ointment stuff on me before you go?
It's been starting to itch again. I've been trying not to scratch it,"

I helped Jon get to the couch in the family room. I retrieved the
ointment from the bathroom. I had Jon lay back on the couch. As he did he
pulled up his knees and spread his legs. I applied the ointment in the
same way as the night before with the same response from Jon. He was beet
red once again. I smiled and asked...

"Didn't you jack off last night?"

The even darker shade of red told me that he wasn't comfortable with this
topic, but I couldn't resist. I suppose I was the same way at his age. No
one ever asked if I jacked off that I recall, but I did on a daily basis
and never would have admitted it to anyone. Teenage boys... Jon finally
said,

"Yes I did, but... I..ah... it just gets hard when someone touches me
there."

"Who touches you there?"

"I... well... um... I guess... um.. you're the only one who ever touched
me there. It's just that... well... when I think about someone touching
me there I get hard. It's not like I planned it or anything. It just
happens. You told me it was normal last night."

"It is normal. I was just teasing you a little. I was the same way when
I was your age. I masturbated daily back then, but I never would have
admitted it to anyone. You don't have anything to be ashamed of."

"So did you jack off last night?"

"I guess that's a fair question, Jon. Yes I did."

"I can't believe you told me that."

"I think I told you last night that we can talk about any topic you'd
like to discuss. I'll always be honest with you. If I have the answer,
I'll give it to you. If I don't I'll try to find the answer or find
someone who knows."

"That's cool!"

"Well, I'm going to run to the store. I shouldn't be gone more than two
hours, and probably less than that. You're sure there isn't anything else
you'd like to have while I'm out?"

"No, I don't think so. I can't believe you're just gonna leave me here
alone. Aren't you worried I might rip you off or something?"

"I've always thought I was a pretty good judge of people. You don't seem
like the kind of guy who'd steal from me. I hope I'm right about that.
Since I've already asked you to trust me, I feel I should trust you. I
think my trust is well placed."

"Thanks. I don't steal. The only think I ever did was ask people for
money, but I never robbed anyone or stole anything from a store even when
I was really hungry and didn't have enough money to buy food."

"I knew I was right about you. I'll see you as soon as I finish at the
store. I'm going to leave a bottle of water and the bowl of fruit here
for you just in case you get hungry or thirsty while I'm out. Here is the
remote for the TV. There probably isn't a lot on to watch on a Saturday
morning, but it also works the stereo as well so you can listen to music
if you like. Today's paper is on the coffee table here if you want to
read it. I think you're set. I'll see you soon."

"Bye Jake. Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome!"

A quick trip to Penney's took care of the clothing needs in one stop. I
found a pair of shoes with no heal in them. They were suitable for inside
and out. I got a pair a half size larger than fit me just to be safe. The
crutches came from a local drug store. I could rent them by the week. I
paid for three weeks and hoped he wouldn't need them that long. I was
back home in far less than two hours. Jon was still on the couch where
I'd left him. He was very happy to see me because he needed to pee
desperately. I helped him to the bathroom. When he was finished I took
the crutches with me and adjusted them to his size. I showed him how to
use them. He was slow and a bit unsteady at first, but he got the hang of
them quickly and seemed pleased to be mobile and independent again. Back
in the family room I showed him what I bought. Jon was excited over the
new clothes and shoes. He couldn't wait to get dressed. I carried the bag
to his room as he lead the way on his crutches. I gave him a deodorant
stick which he applied himself this time. He'd never had any before. I
bought boxer briefs because I thought they wouldn't ride around his legs
as much as briefs. He was very pleased to have them and always wanted
some. I helped him get the underwear and sweat pants on and adjusted. I
then helped him into a new t-shirt and tucked it in for him. The shirt he
selected was a blue print button up short sleeve shirt that would be
comfortable in the house. I also picked up a jacket that matched the
sweats so he'd have something to wear outside in the cooler spring
weather. The shoes fit perfectly. He checked himself out in the mirror
through his one open eye. He looked so much better and so much more like
a typical teenage boy.

On the way back to the family room I gave Jon a quick tour of the house.
We spent most of that time in the den. Jon was impressed with the large
selection of books on the shelves. He read over the titles and found
several he'd already read as well as several he hadn't. I told him to
pick out a book or two that interested him. He quickly found two that he
was anxious to read. I carried them to the family room for him. Once he
was seated on the sofa, I helped him stash his crutches near him so he
could easily get them when he needed them. While he read one of the
books, I read most of the newspaper. Once I'd finished the paper I
decided I was hungry and figured Jon would be too. I made each of us two
ham and cheese sandwiches and cut up some more fresh fruit. I called Jon
to the kitchen table. He struggled a bit as he got off the sofa, but he
made good time getting to the kitchen and seated.

Later that afternoon we talked. Jon said,

"You sure have a big house for just one person. How come you live alone
in this big house?"

"I guess I just haven't found the right person to share it with yet."

"So you don't have a boyfriend or anything?"

"No, I don't. I had one for a short time a few years ago, but he moved
to another state after we finished college."

"How come you're gay?"

"The quick answer is that I was born that way. Being gay isn't probably
anything most people would choose because it isn't easy. I learned over
time that I really enjoyed the men more than women."

"I didn't know you could be born gay. Did you ever have a girlfriend?"

"I dated women during high school and part of the time I was in the
army. Did you have a girlfriend back in Texas?"

"No. I never really thought about girls, at least not too much anyway.
Most of the time I was thinking about what I was going to eat or if we'd
have water or electricity or where I'd sleep or if my mom was going to be
high all night and partying with their drug friends. It didn't seem like
I had time to think about girls."

"That must have been very hard on you."

"I never really thought about it at the time. I mean I knew that
everyone didn't live like we did, but I knew other kids that had similar
situations at home. Most of those kids did drugs too. I just knew that I
didn't want to live like my mom and Stan lived. Neither one of them could
stop. When I was little I always hoped she'd stay clean when she got out
of treatment programs, but that never lasted too long. Later on I just
hoped that neither of them would OD while I was there. I don't think I
could have handled that."

"Do you know where you mom went when she left Stan?"

"No. She and Stan had been fighting for months so I guess it didn't
surprise me that she was ready to move on. That's usually how it went in
the past, but she always took me along before. This time she just packed
her stuff and left. Probably she left with some guy, but I don't know.
I'm sure she's still in Texas, but I don't know where."

"That must have hurt a lot."

"That is the really weird part about all of this. I think I was relieved
more than anything. I hated the constant drugs and fighting. I hated the
way we lived. On some level I guess it just made it easier for me to move
on. It is kinda hard to explain. I spent a lot of time taking care of my
mother. She wasn't much of a mother really. It felt like a weight had
been lifted from my shoulders. I could just be responsible for myself."

"It sounds like you never really had much of a childhood ^Ö like you
didn't get to do the things normal kids get to do."

"I never really thought much about it, but you're right. I always wanted
to be in cub scouts, but mom wasn't responsible enough to get me to
meetings and even if she could have done that, there wasn't money for the
uniforms. I never did have a bike. We never had a Christmas. I can only
remember celebrating a couple of birthdays when I was a kid. Until today
I don't think I ever had any clothes or shoes that didn't come from a
rummage sale or church donations or Goodwill. I know for a fact that I've
never had all new clothes. It's weird though. I love my mom, and I think
she tried to love me and take care of me. She just didn't know how to do
that, and she couldn't ever kick her drug habit. When she didn't use
drugs, she was a completely different person. I just wish she could have
stayed off the drugs."

"It's good that you are understanding of the situation. Most kids would
probably hate their parents for what you lived with and at the very least
resent them."

"She did the best she could I guess. She was only 14 when she had me.
She should have had an abortion. Maybe if she had she'd have turned out
better."

"I hope you aren't suggesting that her situation was somehow your
fault."

"No. I didn't mean that. I just mean that she was too young to have a
kid because she was just a kid herself. From what I've heard she was from
an abusive family with a father who had sex with her from the time she
was 10. I don't think she knew who my father was. She ran away from home
when she was 13. I know she traded sex for food and a bed because she
told me she did whatever she had to do to survive. I don't blame her for
that, but I wish that she'd been smart enough not to get pregnant with
me. She might have done that on purpose though because she got to stay in
a shelter for a couple of years when I was born. There really is a lot I
don't know. One thing I'm glad about is that she didn't let anyone have
sex with me. I know some of the guys they hung out with always suggested
they'd trade drugs for sex with me, but she never did even when Stan
thought it was a good idea."

"You are really lucky for that. I don't think much could be worse than
being raped. It's one thing to agree to have sex with someone, and
another when it is forced on you by someone who doesn't care about you.
In my opinion anyone who forces themselves on another sexually deserves
to have their balls cut off."

"I agree with that! If I knew where my mom's dad was, I'd cut his balls
off. I'm sure it's his fault that she is so fucked up. He deserves to be
punished for what he forced her to do. No kid should have to go through
that."

Jon was starting to look tired. I encouraged him to take a nap, and he
seemed eager to rest. He made his way to his room and into his bed. When
I checked on him about a half hour later, he was sleeping soundly.

I returned to work on Monday. I made sure that Jon had phone numbers for
my office and cell phone. He stayed at home continuing to recover from
his injuries. Most of his time was spent reading. Nearly every night when
I returned home from work I'd find him sitting in the den reading a
different book. By the time the next weekend started Jon was able to put
some weight on his right foot. Walking without the crutches was still
difficult, but he was gradually improving. His eye was much better and
his other cuts and scrapes were healing nicely. It didn't look like he'd
have any obvious scars. Saturday I took him to the mall with me. I wanted
him to have a few pairs of pants and a real pair of shoes. Shopping with
Jon was easy. He gladly took my suggestions. While at the mall we ate at
the food court. I noticed that he watched the other kids who populated
the mall. He didn't say much, but I could tell he was thinking. On the
drive home he said,

"Thanks for taking me to the mall and buying me more clothes. You really
didn't have to do that. We could have gone to the Goodwill and got things
for a lot less money. I will pay you back though. It might take me a
while to get the money once I start working, but I swear I'll pay you
back one day."

"It's nice of you to offer to repay me, but that isn't necessary. You
needed clothes. How about if you consider these things a birthday
present? We really didn't celebrate with presents the other night when we
went out to dinner on your birthday. I also don't think the things you
had before would still fit you. I think you've gained some weight this
part week."

"I know I've eaten more than ever. I guess sitting around all week I
haven't gotten much exercise either."

"Well, you needed the extra weight. You could stand to gain about 25
pounds and maybe more. Of course we'll have to get you exercising ^Ö
maybe lifting some weights so we can turn that extra weight into
muscle."

"Yea, I'd like to have more muscle. Could you show me what to do?"

"Sure. I'd be happy to take you to the gym with me. I'll help you get a
routine to build the different muscles."

"Do you think most of the kids hanging out at the mall go to school?"

"I'm sure they do. I think they use the mall as a place to hang out on
the weekends. Some shop and some eat there so they can see their friends.
The mall has always been a good gathering place."

"If I was in school I don't think I'd be hanging out at the mall. I'd be
working at the mall instead."

I was pleased that he was thinking about school. I planned to follow up
on that idea next week. More than anything I wanted Jon to decide that he
wanted to be in school. In his 16 years he'd experienced more than most
other kids his age. He'd probably been more responsible than most of them
too - having to care for his mother and himself. He'd had some rough
times and bad experiences, but he seemed to have a decent head on his
shoulders. I planned to do some research to see what would need to be
done to get Jon into school. Since he hadn't been to school for a few
years, I figured there'd be testing involved to find his grade level in
each of the basic subjects. It would be difficult for him to have to go
back to middle school at his age. As much as he read and seemed to
understand from our discussions of the various books he'd been reading, I
knew he was at college level in some areas. His biggest problem area
would likely be in math, but with a tutor that could be worked on if he
was interested in school and the work involved.

That next Friday evening was the beginning of Jon's third week with me.
He was walking around the house without the crutches now. His eye was
healed and the bruises were reduced to a couple of yellowing blotches
where the worst blows had landed. His rash was gone, and his cuts were
healed. After dinner we sat in the family room to talk. I was anxious to
share what I'd learned about a testing program and a private school in
the area that wasn't that expensive. The reason I was drawn to the
private school was their ability and desire to design class schedules to
meet individual needs. I asked.

"How are you feeling? It seems that you're getting around better without
the crutches. Your eye seems to be fine too. Are you having any blurred
vision?"

"Actually I'm nearly fully healed. Thanks for letting me stay here while
I recovered. I've been thinking about it the last few days, and I think
I'm about ready to get out of your house. That didn't sound right. I
really liked being here. You've been so nice to me. I can't thank you
enough for everything you've done for me since you found me in the alley.
I'm sorry for the way I acted that night. I was scared and just not used
to a stranger being nice to me without expecting something in return. I'm
going to miss you. What I meant to say was that I'm glad that you let me
stay. I probably am in good enough shape to find a job and my own
place."

"So do you want to leave?"

"No, but you said I could stay while I recovered. I'm nearly completely
recovered now so I should be thinking about moving out. I was wondering
though if you would mind if I gave out your phone number to places I
apply for work. I was thinking that I could stop over a couple of times a
week after you get home from work to see if anyone called. I wouldn't
give out the phone number to anyone but places where I apply for work. I
also found a shelter where I can stay for up to a month. That should give
me enough time to get a paycheck or maybe two so I can rent a room
somewhere."

"So you want to be on your own? I thought maybe you'd want to get back
into school."

"If I didn't need the money to live, I'd really like to be in school. I
do want to go to school, but I figure the first priority has to be a
place to live and food. If I can get a job working nights then I can go
to school during the day. I have been thinking that if I can work all
summer at two jobs then I can cut back the number of hours I have to work
in the fall when school starts so I can have more time to study."

"What if you didn't have to work and could start school right away? What
if you stayed here and went to school starting this summer?

"I can't ask you to let me stay here. I have already cost you too much
money."

"Well, if I'm offering then you don't have to ask. All you have to do is
think about what you really want to do most of all."

"Most of all I really want to go to school. More than anything I'd like
to go to college. I just don't have the money for all of that. Why would
you want to do that for me anyway? You don't owe me anything. I'm not
your responsibility. What if I do go to school and find out I'm not as
smart as the other kids? You'd be wasting your money on me. I never got
the best grades in school when I did go."

"I think you're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. I also
suspect that the reason you didn't get good grades was at least partly
due to your living situation. I'm sure you'd have done much better if
you'd had a place to do homework and attended on a daily basis. What I'd
like to do is give you the chance to at least finish high school. If
college is a realistic possibility, then I'd like to see you get the
chance to attend. I've done some checking around this past week. I found
a private school that will test you in all the basic subjects. What that
will do is establish a placement level for you so you won't be stuck
taking remedial classes when it isn't necessary. School should be much
more fun and more challenging for you that way. If you are interested in
that idea, the placement test is just over two weeks away. While you are
in school you can stay here with me. I know that might not be exactly
what you had in mind, but you are still too young to be out on your own.
This will give you the chance to at least finish high school and be a
typical teenager. Are you interested in that idea?"

I could see Jon staring at me with tears in his eyes. His lips moved a
couple of times like he was trying to say something, but no words came
out. As the tears started to run down his cheek, he said,

"Jake... Are you really serious? You'd let me live here with you? I mean
I could stay here and you'd like be my parent or something? We'd be like
a normal family or something? You really want me to stay here? No one
ever told me they believed in me before. Do you really think I could do
good in school? Stan always told me I was stupid. What if I really am
stupid? I mean I never thought I was, but I don't know. And.. well...
private schools have to cost a lot of money. What if I fail? I don't want
you to hate me because I wasted your money."

I moved from the chair I was sitting in to the sofa next to Jon. I put my
arm around his shoulder as I hugged he to my chest. He wrapped his arms
tightly around my neck and squeezed my tight. He was sobbing lightly. I
could tell it wasn't sadness. I suspected he was emotionally overloaded
at the moment as he thought about his life and possibilities he hadn't
considered or even hoped for as he considered the direction of his life.
We held each other for about 15 minutes until Jon began to calm down.
While still holding me with his head buried in the crook of my neck he
said,

"You must be an angel. You are the nicest guy I've ever met. I couldn't
even have dreamed anything this good happening to me. This is the best
thing that's ever happened in my life. Thank you for letting me stay with
you. I never did want to leave. I hoped we'd always be friends when I did
leave. I promise I'll do my very best in school. I'll help around the
house. I'll do all the cleaning. I'll even do the cooking if you teach
me. Hell, I'll do anything you want. I want to make you proud of me.
Thank you so much! I love you, Jake."

"I'm already proud of you. You've made something positive of the life
you've had. Most people would have given up by now, but you haven't. I
want you to have a chance to explore your potential. I think school can
do that for you. I also want to give you at least a part of your
childhood. It seems to me that you've been acting as the responsible
adult in your family when you should have just been doing things kids get
to do. I want you to have some fun before you have to be a responsible
adult. Saul helped me so much. I needed him more than I realized at the
time. I want to follow his example and help you. I love you too, Jon."

"Really? You aren't just saying that? Do you really love me?"

"Yes, I really do."

"No one ever said that to me before. I don't even remember my mom saying
that to me."

Now I was the one with tears in my eyes. I was trying to choke them back,
but they fell anyway. I was overcome with the intensity of his statement.
How could anyone not love Jon. He was bright. He was attractive. He had
so much potential. He always did the right thing ^Ö or at least tried to.
As 16 year olds go, he was a joy to be around. Our hug fest felt very
comfortable to both of us. The emotions we shared were honest and true.
As the moment played it's course, we relaxed and eventually broke the
hug. As Jon started to pull away from me, he kissed me on the cheek. I
kissed his cheek at almost the same instant. We sat together in silence
for several minutes until nature let me know that I needed to make a trip
to the bathroom.

We sat next to each other on the sofa watching TV the rest of the
evening. I haven't a clue what we watched, and I'm fairly certain Jon
couldn't tell you either. We were both deeply engrossed in our personal
thoughts. I was thinking of all the ramifications involved in Jon living
with me. I knew I'd have to involve a lawyer soon to see what would need
to be done to make our living arrangement legal. I realized I should have
researched that prior to telling Jon I wanted him to stay with me while
he finished school. I hoped there would be no barriers or hassles, but
there were bound to be some. I'd call a law firm I'd used at work. They
were large enough to have a family law division. I was sure I'd have
answers by the end of next week.



Thus ends the first part of this story.

Thank you for reading this offering. If you would care to share your
comments, suggestions, and constructive criticism, please contact me at:
dselliot28@yahoo.com

I do have other works posted at Nifty. Please look for my name in the
"Authors" category for a complete list of my work at Nifty.


Thanks for reading my submissions!

Peace and Love.

ds elliot