Date: Sun, 27 Apr 2014 13:56:54 -0400 (EDT)
From: DJAkeeba@aol.com
Subject: Tragedy in the Blood, Chapters 44 & 45

This story is about male/male relationships and contains graphic
descriptions of sex.  You should not read this story if it is in any way
illegal due to your age or residence.

This is a work of pure fiction. This story is the sole property of its
author and may not be copied in whole or in part or posted on any website
without the permission of the author.

Questions and commentary can be sent to djakeeba@aol.com

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----------------------
TRAGEDY IN THE BLOOD
by Steven H. Davis

Chapter 44

When I came into the kitchen the next morning -- running late after
insomnia had kept me awake much of the previous night -- Tynah had already
left for work and Rex was nowhere to be seen.  I guessed that he had made
his morning grocery run to the H.E.B., which must mean that Linda had come
and gone, expecting that I would have taken the early bus.

I still had about fifteen minutes to catch the late bus, so I re-filled
Heidi's dog-dish with food and water, poured some coffee and sat down at
the table for a cigarette.  The five-dollar bill was there as usual, but it
was sitting on top of a section of the San Antonio Light which had been
folded back and had an item circled in Rex's fine-lined blue pen.

The section was the one which listed the recent home sales, and the circled
item listed a home in Alamo Heights which had just been purchased by one
S.B. Maxwell.  I stared at the address for a moment, committing it to
memory.  Rex really does read the paper from cover to cover, I thought to
myself, and was grateful that he did.

But Alamo Heights?  That was clear across town, the toney rich neighborhood
where the woman who t-boned us in the truck had lived.

More pertinent to my interests, it wasn't just across town but in an
entirely different school district.  Shit.

I took Rex's pen, scribbled "thanks, Rex!" next to the circled item, and
left for the bus stop.  I wouldn't be able to do anything about it that
day, as the auditions for *Our Town* would be held in the afternoon after
school.  As I trudged up the street, I saw that the ironically-named "late
bus" had arrived early, and had to run like a maniac to jump through the
door just before it closed and the bus pulled away.

I debated what to do with this new information, this address in Alamo
Heights, as the bus rolled along up Walzem Road.  Did I really want to know
why they left so suddenly?  Did I really want to go seeking out an answer
which was likely to break my heart all over again?  After all, I hadn't
heard one peep from Taine on the phone since they had moved, had received
not one note, one letter... nothing!

If this had been any other family, I would have suspected parental
disapproval: moving him away so that we couldn't be together, forcing him
to date some snooty Alamo Heights chick in a pleated skirt, maybe even
packing him away to one of those religious youth camps near Dallas where
they claimed to be able to "fix" kids like us by praying the gay away.

But this was Sly Maxwell's family.  The same Sly Maxwell who had given us
that great talk full of unconditional love and acceptance in the parking
lot that day.  The same Sly Maxwell who had been nothing but loving and
supportive when he talked to Taine about his feelings out by the swimming
pool.  And the same Sly Maxwell who, like a proud Papa Bear, had carefully
gathered Taine, Blaine, and me together by that pool for what amounted to a
massive family therapy session.

The four of us came out of that session -- I thought -- bonded at the hip.
Four musketeers, all for one and one for all.  And Taine and I had made
sweet, gentle love that day, and afterward seemed closer than ever.

And then they were gone.

The bus pulled into the circle at Polk High and I made my way out,
shuffling behind a row of students who were taking as long as they possibly
could to get off and begin their school day.  When I had finally run this
slouching gauntlet, I hurried into the school to find Linda for some much
needed advice.

Instead I ran into Nathan, on his way to the office because some ninja
throwing-stars had been found in his locker.  He was outraged at this
invasion of his personal space, but chuckled at the situation nonetheless.

"I'm going to be the first person ever expelled from Polk for being a
ninja," he laughed.  "How bad-ass is that?"

"Super bad-ass," I assured him, but inside I was eye-rolling up a storm.

"Keep your dick up, Bubba," said Nathan, indicating Kathy Witcher strolling
down the hall.  "Your big mama jama might want another taste of freshman
meat!"

I shook my head, grinning as Nathan strode purposefully into the office.  I
had told him about my encounter with Kathy when I was at his house (leaving
out the parts involving Mark and Jeff), and he had been suitably impressed
by my scoring a blowjob from a 12th grade girl to dub me "The Senior
Suck-Toy".

It wasn't a nickname that stuck, thank goodness, for I would learn that
Nathan seemed to invent new nicknames for people every day.  Maybe it's
because he never had one.  I resolved to come up with one for him soon.

I didn't catch up with Linda until 4th period Drama, where we were working
on some exercises and learning about character analysis.  Linda and I
excused ourselves to the auditorium, presumably to work on our Duet, but
there wasn't another tournament for two weeks and we were fine just sitting
on the edge of the stage and talking.

"You know, Rick," she said, a thoughtful expression on her face, "maybe he
didn't have a choice in the matter, and was too nervous about your reaction
to talk to you before.  You know how shy he is, even with you, and he
really hates confrontation more than just about anything."

"So you don't think it was the hat thing?" I asked, only half-joking.  I
honestly didn't know what it might have been.

"No, silly," she said.  "But you do have a point about his dad and brother
not saying anything either.  It's just bizarre.  His dad really seemed to
like you, and you told me that Blaine even came around."

"I know," I sighed, kicking my heels against the stage.  "It doesn't make
any sense at all to me.  I don't know what to do."

"Rick.  You're afraid of what the answer might be, aren't you?  You're
afraid that Taine changed his mind."

"Yeah," I admitted, nodding.  "I'm scared about the answer, so I don't know
if I should even ask the question."

"I see," Linda said sarcastically.  "You are afraid of rejection, so you're
just going to let the boy whom you have said many, many times means more to
you than anything else in the world disappear from your life with no
explanation?  That makes a lot of sense!"

"Yeah."  I hung my head sadly, embarrassed.

"Rick," Linda said, trying another tack, "what if I go to his new house?
What if I go over there all pissed off asking how he could just leave
without saying goodbye?  He likes me, he trusts me, and most importantly
I'm a girl, so he's intimidated by me.  I will get some answers."

I thought about it for a minute.  It was an attractive offer, sparing me
the humiliation of being the spurned, heartbroken lover showing up at the
door begging for "closure."  Besides, I didn't want closure.  I wanted
Taine.  And I couldn't let Linda go around doing my dirty work forever.

"No," I said.  I would either do it or I wouldn't, but I wasn't about to
let Linda do it for me.

"Suit yourself, but the offer's open.  I'm actually a little upset with him
myself."

"Linda, you don't have to..."

"Oops!"

She held up a hand, silencing me.

"Not just on your behalf, Rick.  I don't like going to all this effort to
make friends with him only to have him turn his back on me, too.  Not all
of my going over there pissed off would be acting."

"I really appreciate that, Linda."  I turned to look her in the eye.  "I
really do.  You're a great friend to me, but if I'm going over there, I'm
doing it myself.  And if I don't, that's because I can't deal with the
answer, even if you get it for me."

Her expression softened.  She took me in her arms, hugging me tight and
stroking the back of my Izod soothingly.

"Oh, Rick," she cooed softly.  "I hate seeing you in pain like this.  I
know Taine meant more to you than anyone ever did in your life, and I can't
imagine what kind of effect this is having on you, especially not knowing
why."

She broke the embrace, meeting my gaze seriously and lovingly.

"I understand if you don't want to know, Ricky.  If you ever need to talk,
you know I'm always here for you."

"Thanks," I smiled.

"That's what Duet partners are for," she murmured, then got to her feet on
the stage, facing front and loudly clearing her throat.

I knew what she was up to and leapt to my feet beside her as she spoke.

"Doris and George are married..."

"..but not to each other," I continued.

And I was thinking, yeah, we kind of are.

------------------------------

Nathan was back in my 5th period Biology class in his usual seat after
receiving a stern warning about bringing ninja throwing stars to school.
The warning turned into detention when he inquired about whether nunchaku
sticks were banned as well, but it didn't seem to faze him.  He liked
playing the rebel.

6th period P.E. was the usual lame activity followed by the wet, steamy
cock-show which was my primary interest in showing up.  As broken up and
confused as I was about my lover's disappearance, I was starting to miss
sex just as much, and found my eyes wandering around the communal showers
more than usual.  My eyes settled between the legs of the Swedish
foreign-exchange student, a tall and blonde young Adonis named Erik.

His wet, slippery cock lay nestled in a soft, blondish-brown nest of fuzz
as he washed his hair, eyes closed under the spraying showerhead.  His tool
was lightly tanned like the rest of him, and uncut, like only two other
boys in our class, one of whom was black and the other Mexican.  I guessed
that Erik was probably the first uncut white boy I ever saw, and the sight
was not unattractive.

In fact, I could make out the shape of his thick mushroom-shaped head
beneath his foreskin, and the sight was beginning to cause some stirrings
in my own loins.  Erik was long and thick, at least five inches soft and as
many inches around, and I couldn't stop staring at it shifting around as he
moved, wet and glistening, rolling against his large balls, which also
danced provocatively in their hairless, low-hanging pouch.

"Nice," I thought.  Then I happened to glance up, right into his bright
blue eyes, which were watching me watching him, and didn't seem happy about
it.

I quickly looked to the wall, resuming my shower.  Soaping my chest, belly
and pits, I glanced back over my shoulder, only to see Erik's gaze focused
right on my wet, hairless ass.  Now I didn't know what to think.  Was he
offended that I was looking at him, or was he scoping me out as well?

I filed the exchange of looks away in my mind for future research.  Right
now, my focus was on finishing my shower, getting dressed, and giving my
hair enough time to dry before my audition.  As I was pulling on my black
Jordache jeans by the black-painted A-frame dressing benches, Erik walked
right up next to me.  He was completely naked and still dripping wet, his
towel held casually in one large hand at his side.

"You like what you see?" he asked, his voice low enough that no one could
hear but me.

"What do you mean?"

I was sure that I was blushing like a pink giraffe.

I slipped my Izod over my head in an attempt at nonchalance, and by the
time I had it pulled down and in place, he wasn't in front of me anymore.
I looked back to see where he had gone, and saw him drying off a few
benches away, looking in the opposite direction.

The moment had passed, I thought, feeling my ears burning hot with the
blush which I was sure now was obvious to anyone watching.  I threw on my
Reeboks and walked hurriedly toward the lockerroom doors as the final bell
rang.  Thankful for the crowd of students to lose myself in, I swam against
the tide with no real annoyance.  Everyone else was heading for the parking
lots or the bus circle, while I was on my way to the auditorium, so it took
me a while to get there.

And just as I was about to open the auditorium doors and try out for my
first Polk High School Drama Department production, I felt a presence
behind me.  I glanced back to see what it was, hoping that I wouldn't see
Erik's large, tanned hand landing on my shoulder.

I didn't.

Oh, a hand landed on my shoulder, all right.  But it wasn't Erik's golden
mitt.  It was a pale, slender hand.

A perfect, perfect hand.

--------------------------------

Chapter 45

"I came to see your audition.  We'll talk after."

Taine followed me into the Polk High School auditorium, receiving a big hug
from Linda, a high-five from Carter, and an acknowledging nod from Jim.  He
sat patiently through the auditions, and -- if I'm honest -- I have to say
that I don't even remember auditioning myself.

I know I must have, because people complimented me on my way from the
stage, and Mr. McRory was smiling as I made my way past the sixth row,
where he sat with his work-light and a yellow legal pad, making copious
notes on every actor.  As I neared the back of the auditorium, Taine rose
from his seat in the back row, following me outside and down the hall to
the side entrance of the school.

I walked out onto the little apron of sidewalk and leaned on an empty
bicycle rack, lit a cigarette, and just stared at Taine as he caught up to
me, waiting for him to speak.

It had only been a few days, and already he looked different to me.  He
looked tired, exhausted even.  There were dark circles and slight bags
beneath his beautiful green eyes, which seemed hollow and glassy, without
the mischievous spark which always made me shiver with emotion.  His smooth
face was even more pale than I remembered it, his mouth drawn and the color
of his perfect lips lighter than normal.  This had obviously been as rough
on him as it had on me.

He slouched to a stop about five feet away from me, hands stuffed in the
pockets of his battered army jacket, clearly unsure of how to begin this
conversation, or even if he really wanted to.  I wasn't sure that I wanted
him to either, but now that he was here, I had to know.

Taine looked down at the ground, the brim of his cap covering his face
while he wrestled privately with his thoughts and feelings.  I was used to
this preamble, but was impatient, so my inner turmoil came out -- as it
often does -- with heavy sighs and exhalations of cigarette smoke in long,
dragon-like columns of frustrated steam.

Finally, the brim of the cap raised, and I could see those magical eyes
again, now a light grey beneath the cloudy October skies.  Even through my
roiling emotions, I always marveled at the way Taine's eyes changed color
seemingly at will, and although I understood about rods and cones and
refracted light, the color of his eyes always seemed to match his feelings
like a 1970s mood-ring.

"Last night," he said softly, "I went downstairs to get some orange soda,
some ice, and some Doritos.  I stood there... thinking that I was coming to
see you audition today... and I put the ice... right in the
Doritos... instead of the soda."

His eyes held on mine, and he tried to manage a faint smile, but it didn't
quite work.  The one I tried to form in return didn't really work either.
He must have seen the bewilderment and pain in my expression, because he
nodded his head slowly, never breaking eye contact.

"It's hard for me, too," he said.  "But it's better this way."

"Better!" I exclaimed incredulously.  "What is better about this, Taine?
What the hell is possibly better about this?"

"The world is a vampire," he replied.  "It just slowly sucks away anything
good.  Nothing can ever stay perfect, Ricky, and what we had was perfect.
It's like the snow when I lived in New York.  It starts out perfect and
pure, like us.  And then it starts to melt a little bit, and it refreezes
with dirt inside it, and looks ugly and flecked with mud.  And then cars go
over it and it melts some more.  Then it turns to this black, yucky slush.
And then it melts some more, and runs off the road, and what's left turns
into black ice, and it can kill people, Ricky.  And then there's nothing
left but dirt and pain."

He turned away, and I could see that he was fighting to blink back tears.

I shook my head questioningly.  It had become our sign that he needed to
elaborate, to translate his elusive, ethereal thoughts so that my primitive
mind could grasp his meaning.  He tried not to show his frustration, as
always, and turned back to me, his voice almost pleading with me to
understand.

"What we had was the only perfect thing I'd ever had," he said.  "I didn't
want to watch it get eroded, eaten away every day by this shitty school and
this awful world.  I wanted to hold it, to remember it, to make sure that
it never changed. That it never went away."

"So you just disappeared?"  I was becoming upset.  "Taine, what the hell?
You made Sly and Blaine move, changed schools, all just to freeze our
relationship in your head like a bug in amber?"

"No, no, no," Taine said, exasperation creeping in.  "Sly wanted a nicer
house, with more room.  He didn't want me being bullied at Polk anymore.
He wanted Blaine to have his own area in the house, all that stuff.  So he
started looking around for places in Windcrest, so I could still be close
to you, or near Chamberlain so we could still take the bus and see each
other. "

"So why Alamo Heights?" I cried out.  "If he wanted us to be close
together, why the hell did he pick Alamo Heights?  That's all the way
across the fucking city!  The bus doesn't even go there unless you go
downtown first and come back up!  It takes like five hours!"

"I know," he smirked.  "I just did that, and if Blaine wasn't picking me
up, I'd have to do it again.  I don't start school until Monday.  But I had
to talk to you one more time.  I had to see you and tell you why, so you
wouldn't wonder."

He came over to me and gently brushed the tears from my cheeks, taking my
face in both of his soft, perfect hands and raising it to look at him.  He
wasn't crying, I noticed, and the thought made me cry harder.

"Rick," he said evenly, "I asked Sly to get a house in Alamo Heights.
Shit... every day that I stayed here, Ricky.  Every time you had to fight
for me, or Sly's car got vandalized, or your dog got killed, or some other
thing happened that would only happen to me, you would love me less.  And
don't say that you wouldn't, because I know you would.  I didn't want that
to happen... I don't want that to ever happen.  I want you to remember us
the way that I remember us."

I exhaled sharply and knocked his hands from my face, standing up and
walking away from him.  Then my anger got the better of me and I turned, my
expression a mask of rage.  I pointed my index finger at him, furiously
jabbing the air to punctuate my words.

"You are so full of SHIT!" I growled.  "You just ride into town, make me
fall in love with you, make me fight for you, make me decide I can never
love anyone else but YOU!  Then you are going to turn around and ride right
out of my life because you're too afraid to handle a real relationship?
The mysterious fucking stranger who makes everyone swoon and then gallops
away before anyone really knows him?  Is that how you see yourself?"

Taine's eyes widened at my verbal assault.  He backed up a few feet, but
made no attempt to flee, which strengthened my resolve.  He needed to hear
this and I needed to say it.

"That's not you, Taine!  All the Bauhaus and the perfect snowfalls and sad
poems and pretty pictures are just your way of hiding what's really great
about you!  Life isn't a Goth song, Taine, and it would be really fucked up
if it was.  And neither is love.  You can't spend the rest of your life in
and out of infatuation with some stupid Wednesday Addams that disappoints
you every other day.  You are starving yourself of real love in some
fantasy world of snowflakes and moonbeams when it's right here in front of
your face!"

I stopped then, dropping my hand and softening my tone.  I didn't want to
scare him, and he seemed so afraid, so lost, so hurt all the time.  Passion
scared him, anger scared him, sex scared him, love scared him, I scared
him.  I didn't want to scare him.  I only wanted to love him.

"Taine," I said gently.  "Nothing on this earth could ever make me stop
loving you.  Can't you see that?"

"There is one thing," he said.  "You're a great friend to me, Ricky.  And
before I say this, please don't think that what we did together was bad for
me, or that I thought it was wrong, or anything like that.  But I can't be
gay.  I'm not gay.  I'm straight. What we did was really amazing, but it
wasn't amazing because of the sex."

"You could have fooled me," I sneered, but instantly regretted it when I
saw the frustration building in him again.

"No!" Taine barked.  "Maybe it looked that way, but... no.  It was amazing
because of the feelings, the closeness, the... just being open with another
person with no walls.  It gets so hard to hold these walls up all the
time... it tears me apart inside every day from the effort of holding up
these damn walls... and it was nice to let them down for a few weeks with
you. Really nice, but I can't do that forever.  I can't.  I wish I could,
but I can't."

"Nice," I repeated. "It was 'really nice'.  Like a poem or a song.  Nice.
You know what's nice, Taine?  Waking up in the morning in the arms of
someone who loves you more than life itself.  Who would kill or die for
you.  Who would take all the crazy shit you dish out and love you anyway.
Who can fight with you over the lyrics to 'The Matador' and still kiss you
even in the middle of the argument.  Who doesn't use the fact that you're
in bed sick as an excuse to cheat on you.  Who will always put your needs
above his own.  And who can fuck up sometimes and you love them anyway.
And you explain to them how they fucked up and they love you enough to try
not to do it again."

Taine nodded.  "Yes, but I'm not gay.  You want me falling asleep in your
arms and wishing it was Cheryl Tiegs?  You want me telling you I don't want
to make love with you because once that initial emotional explosion
happened, all it means to me is that we're good friends who live together?
You want me still feeling that what I really want is out there somewhere
and I'm just hanging around to spare your feelings?  Every day, that would
eat away at both of us until we were just like that dirty slush and black
ice.  Do you want that?"

I shook my head.

"No," I said.  "And that's not what would happen.  I get it, Taine.  You
don't want your soulmate to be a guy.  I understand that.  In your perfect
world, I'd be a big-titted Goth chick who floats on the air and sings about
ravens and graveyards.  But you know what?  That would be Hell for you.
Because you love me.  And I love you.  And what we love about each other is
something you will never find in a woman, nor will I.  You know it, and I
know it.  And we'll never find it in any other man, either.  This isn't
about straight or gay or bi, Taine.  It's about YOU and ME!  And that's a
lot more important than sex, Babes.  Which, by the way, you enjoyed whether
you want to admit it or not.  I was there."

Then it dawned on me.

"I was there," I whispered.  "I was there!  That's why you wanted to pick
up and leave and never see me again.  It got to you, and you wanted to
erase it.  And the way to do that... was to not be around... the only other
person who knew how much you enjoyed it.  You're ashamed of us.  That's why
you left.  You feel guilty and you're ashamed of us!"

I stared at him, stunned, looking for confirmation in his eyes.  But the
brim of the cap had come down.  Taine was disengaging from me, maybe
forever.

"You can think that if you want," Taine said, his voice sad and -- it
seemed to me -- disappointed in my conclusions.  "It seems like everything
I say... even the little subtle things underneath that tell someone how you
really feel... no matter how much I talk, no matter how much I 'open
up'... I still get misunderstood more and more."

"Explain it to me," I said.  "Two statements: One... 'What we had was the
only perfect thing I've ever had in my life.'  Two... 'I'm straight.'  It
doesn't make any sense, Taine.  If you have a problem with the way our
feelings get labeled, let's not label them.  Let's just be together.  We
don't have to call what we have anything that makes you uncomfortable.
It's just us, Taine.  Just us."

"People have enough reasons to pick on me already," Taine said.  "I just
can't, Rick.  Even if I really was gay, I couldn't deal with all of that.
This is Texas, Rick.  It's not normal."

"Normal?  Since when have you ever cared about being normal in any other
way?  Taine... I love you.  I know you love me, too.  Don't end us before
we've even really begun."

"I love you as a friend, Rick," Taine said.  "But I can't be here.  I can't
be around you, because otherwise... well, it's better for both of us."

"Stop saying that!" I exclaimed.  "It's not better for either one of us.
And definitely not for me!  Taine... Babes... I can't live without you.  I
can't."

I knew it was a lost cause.  Taine looked up at me again, his face
compassionate, warm.  It was the "let him down easy" look and I hated it.

"You'll live," he said.  "Please, Ricky.  Live, love, be happy.  I'll try
to do the same.  Please wish me luck in that."

The lump in my throat wouldn't let me speak.  I just nodded, tears
streaming from my eyes.  I heard an engine in the parking lot behind me,
and turned to see Blaine's Charger pulling up to take Taine away from me
forever.

Taine shuffled slowly by me, his head down.  He paused at my side, touching
my shoulder briefly before hurrying to his brother's car.

I didn't turn around until I heard the sounds of the Charger's engine
fading away as it pulled onto Walzem Road.

I looked at the empty space where the car had been, wiped my eyes, and took
a deep, lonely breath before walking back inside the school.

-----------------------------------

Thank you for reading Chapter 44 & 45.  To be continued...

Once again, I'm always happy to hear from readers at DJAkeeba@aol.com.  You
have all been so supportive and encouraging, and I thank you all for your
e-mails.

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