Date: Sun, 21 Jun 2015 15:17:06 -0400 From: Jesse Jesse Subject: A Healing Love Pt5 Hello guys, Jesse here. Thanks so much to those of you who've already written me with comments and thoughts on the story so far. I'm so glad to hear that those of you have written me so far have enjoyed this first short bit of my story. I've been fairly quick on writing these first five chapters, but as work and duties call, I'm not so very sure I'll be able to keep up this pace with writing more. Please be patient and keep your eyes open, as I do intend to further the story from where I leave off today. Thanks so much, and let's not forget to thank our host, Nifty! ---------------------------------------------------------------- A Healing Love, Chpt5 He was naked, "naked as a jaybird," as my grandmother would've said. And for that split second, once again my eyes travelled the length of the lithe, toned frame that was Elijah, but when my eyes began to travel below his navel toward his groin another thought came rushing back to my mind that caused me to almost faint on the spot; I was every bit as naked! And so it was with this horrible, gut-wrenching realization that I began desperately attempting to wrench myself from the strong hands that held to my own. But my efforts were to prove fruitless. As I heaved and hauled with all my terrified might Elijah merely stood with that same bemused smile spread across his face that I'd already seen so many times. But though what Elijah did next had the effect he desired, I highly doubted that my physical surrender was as much from his overpowering muscle as from pure shock when I suddenly found myself wrapped in two strong arms that manhandled me so that I was pressed flat against a warm, albeit wet, chest. Yes, there I stood, "stark naked," in the middle of the dusky forest with a beautiful young man that held onto me tightly, seemingly determined to hold me from retreating into the tent, his chest rumbling beneath my hands that had pressed resistantly against him as he attempted to speak to me. But I was determined not to look into his face. I couldn't. I knew, I just knew that he'd realized what had been going through my mind. He knew; he knew everything that I was thinking. He was going to be repulsed, angry that I'd looked at him in such a way. Even as his muscular arms slackened their grip around my frame, I expected the first blow or shove to follow. But nothing of the sort came. Instead a calloused hand reached down to cup my chin and lift my now hotly flushed face to meet his own eyes. "I'm sorry I scared you; I shouldn't have done that, and I don't blame you if you're pissed at me. Should've given you a warning of some kind that I was around." I couldn't answer. With my hands pinned to his warm chest, and my throat constricted with fear and humiliation, I simply couldn't answer. The only thing I could think to do was nod my head. "Why did you come this far by yourself, and why didn't you leave me some kind of sign? I was coming back. I just had to go back to town for something, but I was planning to come back." I didn't trust myself to answer. The humiliation that welled up inside me, whether from his accusing question or from the events in the stream, simply wouldn't allow me to answer. I cannot honestly say how long I stood enveloped in the warm, lean frame that was Elijah, much longer than I would've desired given the feelings racing through my mind, yet for some unknown reason Elijah didn't release me. It wasn't as though he was forcing me against my will to do, or rather not do, anything, but more as though he was holding me for comfort, forcing me to realize that he was indeed there with me. But though I was relieved to see his face peering down at me once again I couldn't bear to be at such a close proximity to him. For one thing there was the unattended matter of both of us standing "without a stitch" on either of our bodies, and my mind was wracked with fear as to how Elijah would react if and when my body began to react to this reality. But there was something else; anger. Though I couldn't exactly explain why, I was angry at Elijah. Even as the realization dawned in my mind I realized how foolish it was to be upset with him. He'd truly done nothing wrong. Spending one night together after saving someone's life wasn't exactly a contractual agreement to friendship, and most definitely not to anything else. Why was it that I felt angry at Elijah? But whatever my explanation for my feeling the way I did, I knew in that instant that I had to separate myself from him. I had to compose myself from the seemingly 1,000 different feelings stirring in my soul. And so with one last attempt at an almighty shove, I forced myself from his grip and made my way back to the tent and my pack to clothe myself. He did not follow this time, nor did he attempt to stop me. When I reemerged from the tent he had simply put his own clothing back on and stood waiting for me, something between a frown and confusion spread across his face. We both stood facing each other for some minutes before the proverbial and literal silence was broken. "Why did you leave?!".............The smile returned. "I told you I had to go back to town to get something. I was coming right back. Didn't expect you to wake up before I got back; didn't expect you to leave camp either!" I was fighting to compose myself. I couldn't explain it, couldn't fathom why such a red-hot rage was coursing through me when Elijah's explanation made perfect sense. All I knew was that I needed him to understand. "I didn't know that's where you'd gone. I thought you'd left." There it was; just under the surface, the real reason threatened to show itself for both of us to see. Though I hated myself for being so foolish as to allow him to affect me this way, the real unspoken reason truly was as obvious as the "elephant in the room." I'd been frightened I'd never see him again. And though I didn't know how much Elijah truly knew of how I'd grown to feel about him in such an short amount of time, he did seem to sense at least part of what I was implying. In just a couple of lanky strides he'd closed the distance between us and was now staring down at me, those blue eyes seemingly boring into my soul, seeing things I couldn't bring myself to speak. "Toby I'm not going to leave you. Didn't I tell you last night that we were friends? Are friend such asses to each other that they just up and leave without saying goodbye? Now I'm very, truly sorry for scaring you the way I did. I was wrong not to tell you what was going on, but you need to know that I have no intention of leaving you." And with that statement the two strong arms snaked their way around me once again. If I had felt ashamed before truly understanding Elijah's explanation, when I realized his real reason for going back into town I could've disappeared into a hole in the ground. Though the smile that in just those few hours we'd known each other usually brought such warmth and comfort to me, when I saw it magnify tenfold as he hauled an ancient book from within the bundle he'd brought with him, I felt as though I could've jumped back into the icy creek and drown myself. "Introduction to Sign Language & Sign Communication" "I'm sorry for overreacting. I don't know what came over me. I just.....just" For the 1,000th time that evening I found myself mumbling words of attempted apology as Elijah merely chuckled and waived my humiliation away. "No big deal. Guess I could've at least left you a note or something. We're gonna have to start writing in the sand or something like that!" But though I was truly grateful that he wasn't angry at me in return, his forgiveness was almost more than I could take. Deep in my heart I knew there were more reasons why I'd allowed myself to become so angry with him than simple misunderstandings. Elijah seemed to sense that my mind was in turmoil as he peered over the edge of the book he'd sat reading for the past hour. A slight shake from those rough hands brought my attention back to his gaze. "Hey, what's wrong? You've acted like a zombie since I got back. What's your deal? One minute you're pissed at me, and then next you're not speaking at all. What's the deal?" I was glad to see his face showed that he was only joking, but I dared not truly answer his question. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that somehow, some way, in just a mere twenty four hours I'd began to have feelings for him, someone who even now there were some many things about that I didn't know. But Elijah wasn't one to be easily avoided. "Hey, what gives?!" So searching my mind I groped at the first subject that I could recall to redirect our conversation. "What happened to your back?" His face darkened in an instant, changing from the handsome features I'd grown accustomed to to an almost frighteningly hard expression. I knew in an instant that I'd breached a subject that would've been better left alone. "Look.....I...I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine with me. I....I just wondered." He sat studying me for a great while, seemingly longer than most times before I'd noted him peering into my face. And for a fleeting second there was something different behind his blue eyes, something the didn't resemble the tough, rugged exterior one beheld with mortal eyes, but a vulnerability, a question and wondering as to whether I could be trusted. He grew quite for some time, never taking his eyes away from mine. But when he did speak his words brought a chill to my very soul. "My father.......my father happened." I sat stunned at what I'd read across his full lips. His father?! But the more this clipped answer spun in my head the more questions it raised. "But.....how.....why?!" I knew I'd touched some inner part of Elijah that he preferred to keep hidden, some inner wound that hadn't been touched for some time. His face, though softened from the frightening darkness that had clouded its features earlier, held a pained expression. And as it was my turn to study his face, I couldn't help but be reminded of some wounded animal, its face full of heartache and pain, full of questions himself as to why things that he'd yet to speak to me had happened. And indeed, though I did not hear his words echo through the night air between us, I found myself jumping slightly as his full lips parted to speak again. "Toby, before I tell you any of this, you have to promise me that you'll never speak a word of this to anyone. I've never told anyone, not even my grandpa, everything that's happened. I knew if I did that my dad would wind up in prison, and even though I guess that's what he deserves, I don't want that. I guess I'm kinda stupid; I keep hoping one day he'll see how wrong he's been and try to make things right." I dared not speak as Elijah pressed on with what was obviously a painful story. All I could think to do was nod in agreement to what he asked of me. "My dad and mom never married. My mom left when I was real young. I don't have any memories of her at all. My grandpa says that, at least for a while there, my dad did good by me. I don't ever remember that. All I ever remember are the nights after night when my dad came stumbling home drunk, having already spent every dime he'd earned for the week before he'd even got the check cashed at the bank. For the most part me and my little brother, Dylan, stayed away, hid in the back bedroom of the trailer we rented to keep outta Dad's way when he came home. But that didn't always work out. Most of the time we could outrun Dad, because he was always drunk, but there were enough times he caught up with us to leave a few marks. I never said anything, not even to Grandpa, because I was afraid they'd put Dad in jail. But eventually things went from bad to worse. I came home from school one day to my dad standing in the door, waiting on me. He was drunk, like always. But that day he wanted something different than yelling or hitting. He started talking about how `a man had certain needs, needs that had to be met or he'd go crazy.' At first I didn't understand what he was talking about, because I was only thirteen at the time. I just ran into my room like always. But after a while I started hearing Dylan scream. It scared the hell outta me, so I ran back into the other part of the house to see what was going on." Elijah was silent for a great while, his blue eyes now glistening with tears that he obviously was trying to hold back. I was shocked to see that he was shaking slightly as he continued with this story that horrified me beyond anything I'd ever heard. "Dad......Dad was doing something to Dylan that I didn't realize at that time was possible between two guys. I.....I don't remember the whole thing after that. I just remember screaming at him to stop, and I remember picking something up from the coffee table next to me and throwing it at my dad. I don't honestly know if I hurt him or just surprised him, but whichever it really was, it gave Dylan enough time to get away." He sat silent again for a while, taking a few moments to run the backs of his hands across his eyes before continuing. "If you've seen my back, I guess I don't have to tell you what happened next. Dad turned on me; gave the worst beating I'd ever had in my life. He pretty well lost it that day, screamed at me that I'd take Dylan's place for what I'd done.........." He wasn't going to say it. No....no! He wasn't going to say what I believed he was going to say. But the trickle that now ran freely down his face told me that every godawful thing I'd imagined was exactly what happened. "I didn't try to fight him after he'd already whipped me so hard. I was too sore; pretty sure he broke at least two of my ribs that day. Had a hard time breathing for a while after that. I......I'm not so sure I could've made any effort to fight him, so I just stood where Dylan had stood before and............and let him get on with it."