Storyville 2
by Julien Gregg
Edited by Bruce
© Copyright 2005 Julien
Gregg
All rights reserved.
No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording,
or otherwise, without written permission from the author. This story
is almost all fiction. Almost all of the characters depicted in this
story exist exclusively in the imagination of the author. Any resemblance
to an actual person, living or dead, is, sometimes purely coincidental. For a list of my other stories, original and fan
fiction, please visit my
personal website.
Chapter 5
Someone To Talk To
"What has gotten into you today?" Steve gasped, putting his
hands up in front of him as if he were trying to ward me off.
We'd been home for nearly an hour, and for the whole hour we'd been trying to
have a discussion. I'd brought up the fact that they all watched me too
closely. I wasn't singling him out or anything. I talked about how all of them
treated me as if I were going to emotionally cave in all over again. When I
said that I wished that everyone would back off a little, the discussion
quickly turned into an argument. Naturally, our voices began to rise.
"What do you mean?" I replied just as loud as he had been. "Every time I say
anything that you could possibly try to find something wrong with, you all do
it. Like today in the car . . ."
"Tommy, we care about you," he said with a sigh. "I don't understand why we
have to keep telling you this. You would think that you'd feel that we care
about you."
"What I feel like is that all of you keep watching for me to make a mistake,"
I said. "Its like you all keep waiting for me to fall, and you take every
little thing I say as a sign that my fall is eminent."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the way that you tell me that I shouldn't overwork myself
when I come home late from work," I retorted. "Then there's the way that Vince
and Andy nearly have fits when I'm a few seconds longer on a run than I was
the week before, and don't even get me started on their daily reports to Tom
and Shirley about if I'm taking care of myself or not. It all has to stop,
Steve. I can't live this way."
"Tommy, you're upset . . ."
"You're damned right I'm upset," I spat. "Someone has been writing messages,
saying that I'm going to Hell and that I should be killed on our locker,
Steve. Then someone put a bomb in our locker, and when I said something about
my friends not making me want to hurt anyone or myself, you all called me on
it. Steve, if Jeremy or Nick had said that, no one would have said anything
about it. You'd have laughed."
"Tommy, you nearly ran yourself to death . . ."
"That's not fair, Steve," I sighed, sitting down on the couch. "When am I
forgiven for not knowing how to handle my grief? When does all of this end? Do
I have to go ahead and graduate now and leave for college just so that I don't
have my 'friends' constantly riding my back? Let me tell you Steve, that's not
what I want, but I'll do it if everyone doesn't leave me the Hell alone!"
"What is going on in here!?" Shirley demanded, coming into the living room.
I'd been yelling so loud that I didn't even hear her come into the house. "I
can hear you all the way across the yard, Tommy."
"Tommy's just telling me that we're all smothering him, and he's leaving for
college to get away from all of us," said Steve. I was stunned to see anger in
his eyes, though I don't know why I would have been stunned at the time.
"What?" She looked back and forth between us, and her eyes demanded an
explanation.
"I didn't say I was leaving," I replied, glaring at my boyfriend. "I said that
if I have to go ahead and graduate now and leave for college to get everyone
off my back, I'll do it. I mean it. This has got to stop."
"What has to stop?" Shirley asked, glaring at me.
"Everyone goes out of their way to watch me, and if I do something any of you
even think is wrong, I'm called down for it." I said quickly. "These daily
reports that you get on me from Vince and Andy, I can't even work out without
someone telling you exactly how long my workout was and how often I do it. If
I go running, I almost always see Vince or Andy looking at the clock when I
come in the door, and the other day I got a big lecture from both of them
because I purposefully stayed out longer than usual. I did it to see what
would happen, and I got exactly what I expected. It all ends now, Shirley, or
I'm out of here."
They were both quiet for a bit after that speech. Shirley looked at me hard,
and Steve just kept shaking his head. They had to understand that this
couldn't continue, or I'd go out of my mind. I thought for a second that they
were both just surprised that I caught them at their game, although if that
were the case it would mean that they'd thought I was pretty stupid until I
called them on it. That thought didn't sit well with me, either. I was
starting to feel like I didn't really know any of them at all. Including
Steve.
"First of all," said Shirley finally breaking the silence, "you aren't going
to graduate until the end of the year. We agreed on this, Tommy."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I decided this. You and Tom were just trying
to find a way to talk me out of graduating at the end of last year. Steve was
trying to find the right thing to say to make me do what he wanted. Its just
another way that all of you tried to manipulate and control me."
"Manipulate and control you?" Steve barked with a harsh laugh. "Boyfriend, you
are one paranoid guy. Maybe you need to talk to Dr. Franklin about this."
That was all I could take. I couldn't believe that he would throw my doctor in
my face. I'd been seeing Dr. Franklin at the behest of the doctor that had
taken care of me after my initial physical reaction to my mother's death. Dr.
Franklin had told me more and more that he believed that I was on the road to
not needing to see him for any reason. For Steve to say that was just too
much.
"Fuck you, Steve," I said, and I got up and walked out of the room.
I could hear Steve and Shirley talking, but I didn't pay any attention to what
they were saying. As far as I was concerned I was finished listening to either
of them. I was done with it all for at least the next few hours. If either of
them came to look for me, they wouldn't be happy with me once they found me. I
knew they probably weren't exactly be thrilled with me either, but I hoped
that both of them had the sense to leave me alone for a while.
I walked around the house, up the stairs and back down again, but I couldn't
stop screaming inside my head over what had happened. The bomb hadn't hurt me
or Steve. Our friends were all still completely sound and without injury. That
was a wondrous thing. Why then, did my boyfriend have to try and rip my heart
out? It made no sense at all to me. I had to get away from the house. I had to
get away from Steve before I could calm down.
Without telling Steve where I was going, I walked out of the house and got
into my car. Shirley was standing in the front yard, talking to Sharon of all
people as I backed out of the driveway. She called out to me, but I was having
no part of it. I drove down the street without looking back. I wasn't exactly
happy with her, either.
I drove straight to the cemetery without even a second thought to where I was
going. The grass in the cemetery needed to be cut, but there were flowers
placed at almost every grave. No grave was decorated more than my mother's,
however. Steve, Vince and I kept fresh flowers on her grave. I'd added an
angel statue to watch over her when I'd first come out of my self induced
insanity.
I sat on the little bench that Vince had built and placed next to the grave. I
didn't say anything for a while. I just sat there, thinking about everything
that had been going on lately. Someone had put a bomb in my locker. I don't
think the real implications of that fact hit me until that moment. It was
strange to know that someone really wanted me dead.
It wasn't the first time that I'd experienced someone wanting to kill me, but
Jason Cox had been an immature brute. This person was far more dangerous. I
hated to acknowledge that fact, but it was true. If someone could get into the
school and plant two bombs in locked lockers, that meant that they were going
to a lot of trouble to hurt us. The idea of that alone was frightening, but
the whole idea about someone unknown wanting to kill me was even worse.
Then there was the way that my friends and family were treating me. I didn't
know what to do about that. Running off alone probably wasn't the best idea
I'd had that day, and I know it made them worry even more. I just didn't know
what to do to make them understand that they were smothering me. All of them
were doing it, but Steve and Nick were the worst of the bunch.
Nick and I were friends again, but that friendship, at least on my side, was
tenuous. It wasn't like I was looking for something to hold against him, but
this was too much already. I understood that I'd made them worry about me
before, but I hadn't done a single thing to make anyone worry since then. When
was I going to be given the benefit of the doubt?
Finally, in a quiet voice, I started to talk to my mother. I told her all
about what had happened, leaving nothing out. I'd never kept secrets from my
mother after coming out to her, and I wasn't going to start keeping them just
because she was gone. I told her how I felt about everything that happened,
and that was how I realized that I was more confused than angry or frightened.
Steve was what had me confused the most. I didn't understand how he could say
that to me about my doctor. He'd made it sound like I was mentally unbalanced
and had to talk to my doctor about anything that went on in my life. I'd been
angry at Steve before, but this time I felt genuinely hurt by what he'd said
to me. I didn't know what I wanted to say to him when I got home. I hate to
admit it, but I was angry with him for hurting me.
After telling my mother all of this, I felt only slightly better for having
gotten it all off my chest. I told her I loved her, and then I headed back to
my car. I sat there for a few minutes, trying very hard to convince myself
that I was ready to go home and confront Steve. Truth is, I suck at convincing
myself of anything, so I knew that I wasn't headed home when I started the
car.
I didn't know exactly where I was going, and I must say that I was shocked to
find myself sitting in the parking lot of Dustin and Charlie's apartment
building. I could see Phillip's car there, and I wondered how I would justify
barging in on them. It wasn't as if I'd never been to the apartment, but it
suddenly dawned on me that I'd never once been over there without Steve. That
thought just made me angry all over again, so I got out of the car and walked
into the building.
"Tommy," said Charlie as I walked inside the building. "What's up?"
"Hey," I said, trying hard to smile and at least make my face appear happy. "I
was out for a drive, and I thought I'd stop by."
"Come on upstairs," he said, sorting through a stack of mail. "We're just
hanging out. I'm sure the boys would be happy to see you."
"How's the lawn care?" I asked as I followed him up the stairs to the
apartment.
"Lucrative, believe it or not," he chuckled. "We're ready to start hiring more
people and buying more equipment."
"That's great," I replied, trying to sound as enthusiastic as he did. "I love
what you guys did with my lawn."
Dustin and Charlie had completely landscaped the lawn around my house. They
planted flowers and bushes around the front porch, and Phillip had gotten a
tree stump out of the back yard for me. They came every week to cut the grass
and take care of the flowers and bushes, and they really did do a great job.
They'd also built a deck from my back door all the way around the pool. I was
thinking about having them tear out the cement walk in front, and replacing it
with cobblestones.
"Hey boys," said Meg as she came in the door behind us. "Tommy, its good to
see you."
"Its good to see you, too, Meg," I replied, smiling. "How are you adjusting to
life in Storyville?"
"Oh, quite nicely," she laughed. "I came to make sure that these heathens are
eating tonight."
"Now you know that we eat, Meg," laughed Charlie. "You need a new excuse.
Where are Jason and Carl?"
"Carl went to look for an apartment, and he took Jason with him," she said.
"Jason's pretty shaken up about the bombing at the school today."
"We all are," I breathed.
"Where's Steve?" Meg asked, throwing me for a second.
"He was at home when I saw him last," I replied after a second. "He's probably
either out looking for me, or calling the cavalry by now."
"Fighting?" Charlie asked as we all three walked up the stairs to the
apartment.
"Something like that," I sighed.
"Well, now isn't the time for you and Steve to be fighting," said Meg. "I
understand that you're both probably a little tense after this morning, but
fighting isn't going to help."
"I know," I agreed. "I didn't exactly want to fight with him, but he said
something to me that I didn't agree with."
We reached the apartment, and Charlie let us in. Phillip and Dustin were
sitting on the couch, talking when we came into the living room. They stopped
and looked at us. I smiled at them both, and Dustin smiled back. Phillip's
eyes were on his mother.
"How's Jason?"
"He's fine," she replied, waiving the subject away. "I sent him apartment
hunting with Carl. How are you?"
"I'm fine," he said. "I wasn't even in the building when it happened. I was a
little late this morning."
"For the first time in your young life, I'm happy that you were late for
school," laughed Meg.
"How are Mark and Rick, Tommy? I didn't see them after all of the confusion,"
said Phillip.
"They're both fine," I replied. "We all walked to the edge of the main parking
lot and sat on the benches while everyone else was running around. We talked
to the police, and then we all went home."
"Where's Steve?" Dustin asked.
"Steve is at home," I said. "Or he was when I left. I don't really know."
"Oh," he said, looking at me with knowing eyes. I sometimes hated that Dustin
always knew when something was foul between me and Steve.
"Vince is probably over there having a fit now," said Charlie. "He couldn't
wait to leave campus when he heard about the explosions."
"Great," I sighed. I knew I'd have to put up with another round of lectures
from Vince when I got home. I really wasn't in the mood.
"Tommy, are you all right?" Meg asked, looking at me hard.
"Its just been a very bad day," I answered. "Things got kind of hairy after we
got home, and I had to get away from them for a bit."
"Well if you need to talk, you find me," she said.
"Thanks," I replied. I actually liked that idea. Meg reminded me a bit of my
mother, and she'd never hopped on the bandwagon when any of the others were
riding me about doing too much.
"Hungry? We were about to start supper," said Dustin as he untangled himself
from Phillip and stood up.
"I should probably go home and face the music," I replied. "I left them
staring at me as I walked away."
"I'll walk out with you, Tommy," said Meg. "Phillip, you call me in the
morning. I know there isn't school, but I needed to discuss something with
you."
"Sure, Mom," replied Phillip as he got up to join Dustin in the kitchen. "See
ya, Tommy."
"Later, Phillip," I said as I followed Meg to the door.
"I wasn't going to say anything about this in front of the boys," she said as
soon as the door was closed behind us. "Shirley called me. She's very worried
about you."
I didn't know what to say to that. I was sorry for making her worry, but at
the same time it made me angry again. I wished they would all cut me some
slack. I didn't know what to do to make them understand that smothering me was
driving me crazy. Maybe opting to graduate and going on to college was the
best idea. If they weren't going to back off, then I'd make them.
"I walked out on them," I sighed. "I'm sorry for that, but they have all got
to calm down. I can't breathe without one of them saying I've done too much.
Its driving me crazy."
"Why don't you come over to the house with me?" Meg asked. "The boys won't be
back for a while, and I'll call Shirley to tell her you're with me. She can
call Steve."
"I really should get home," I replied, but she was already shaking her head.
"You need someone to talk to, Tommy," she said. "You need someone who wasn't
around when your mother died who can look at things objectively. That person
is me. Come on."
The story will continue soon . . . .