Date: Wed, 9 Apr 2014 21:43:58 -0400 (EDT) From: DJAkeeba@aol.com Subject: Tragedy in the Blood, Chapter 6 & 7 After putting together Chapter 6, I realized that it was a little short for my liking, so I decided to post Chapter 7 today as well. Bonus! This story is about male/male relationships and (eventually) 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 ---------------------- TRAGEDY IN THE BLOOD by Steven H. Davis In Chapter 5, Rick met Taine's dad, the legendary Formula 1 racecar driver Sylvester Maxwell. Greatly moved by what Rick had done for Taine, Mr. Maxwell decided to take the boys out for dinner at Sizzler. After being flirted with in both his Drama and P.E. classes by Kirsten, Rick met Taine after school and marveled at the workings of his mind, grateful for and intrigued by their new friendship. Mr. Maxwell picked them up for the trip to the restaurant when their car was struck by a truck... Chapter 6 Panic. Screams. Blood. So much blood... The truck had t-boned us as it came roaring through a red light. I saw Taine's head strike the windshield and then we were spinning, around and around. I held on for dear life, feeling my seatbelt threatening to cut me in half diagonally. The Mercedes finally came to a stop in the middle of the intersection. "Oops," said Taine's father dazedly. He was wincing and holding his chest. Mr. Maxwell had been slammed into the steering column, and cars didn't have airbags in those days. Had it not been for his seatbelt, the steering column might have impaled him. The windshield was spider-webbed, centering on the spot where Taine had had struck it with his head. There didn't appear to be any blood, and for the first time I thanked the Lord that Taine was wearing that oversized cap. Still, he looked woozy, his head hanging forward in his seat and a thin line of drool dangling from his open lips. Mr. Maxwell checked Taine, gently stroking his son's shoulder until he responded. "I'm okay," Taine said softly, letting the string of spit fall from his mouth. He didn't seem okay to me. "We're going to have to get you to a hospital and get you checked out," Mr. Maxwell said tenderly. He glanced back at me, checking for damage. "You okay, Ricky?" "Yes, sir," I said absently, concerned for Taine more than anything else. When Taine corrected his father's use of my name again, I knew he was fine. So did Mr. Maxwell, and our attentions turned to the carnage outside. The truck had sailed past the intersection and ended up on the median strip of the street which crossed the one we were on. There was smoke coming from the front, and a gaping hole in the windshield. Bystanders were already crowding around the truck trying to help whoever was inside. And there was blood. So much blood. Mr. Maxwell slowly got out of the car, woozily instructing us to help him move it out of the intersection. We did as we were told, all three of us in various stages of shock and disbelief, and by the time we got it moved, the police and two ambulances had arrived. What I saw next stayed with me for the rest of my life. A boy, not more than nine or ten years old, his shirt and khaki pants covered with blood. Pieces of flesh were hanging from his face in thin, ragged strips. Underneath was what looked like red hamburger meat. The bloody child was screaming and trying to bite the police officer on the leg as he questioned an obese, obviously intoxicated woman whom I took to be the boy's mother. "He thinks the cop is attacking her," I said, to no one in particular, and lost consciousness. ------------------------ I awoke in the hospital, not knowing what time it was or how I got there. A glance at a wall clock answered the first question. It was 11:30 pm. Had I really been out for almost seven hours? Tynah, my adopted mother, was sitting by my bedside. Her eyes were puffy and red. She had been crying. When she saw my eyes open, she rushed to my side, stroking my hair. In a shrill, somewhat panicky voice, she called out toward the door. "Nurse! Nurse! Rex, he's awake!" A nurse rushed in to check me out, followed by Rex, who looked sober and serious. "How ya doin', Whod?" he asked, using his pet name for me, which rhymed with "food," as in "whodunit?" I tried to smile, but was completely disoriented. "I'm okay," I rasped. I was dehydrated, and Tynah got me a paper cup of water to drink. I took it gratefully and sucked it down. "Drink slow, honey," she advised, refilling the cup and handing it back to me. I downed it and set it on the white plastic tray-table attached to my bed. Suddenly, a look of fear crossed my face. Tynah noticed and asked, "What is it, honey?" "Where's Taine?" I asked. She didn't register my question for a moment, then Rex answered for her. "His dad took him home," he said. "He had a little lump on his noggin, but nothing too bad. They're going to be okay, but their car is shot." "What about the boy?" I asked. "What happened to the boy?" Tynah and Rex exchanged a serious look, then Tynah turned back to me and said, "We can talk about that later, honey. Just rest for now. The doctor will be here soon." Suddenly I felt all sleepy again, and felt myself drifting away. I began to dream... ------------------------ In the dream, Taine and I lay side by side, holding each other in some sort of cushioned box. We had soft white pillows, and the walls of the box, which surrounded us pretty tightly on all sides, were covered with a white, satiny material over fluffy soft padding. I realized that we were nude, and Taine's body felt warm and comforting next to mine as we held each other and looked deeply into each other's eyes. It was light inside the box, and I could finally see all of Taine's beautiful, pale and slender body as he held me and we stroked each other's soft, silky hair. I felt safe and secure, happier than I had ever been to be in his arms, holding and being held by him, snuggling in the comforting, womb-like enclosure. "I love you, Taine," I whispered to him. Taine looked serious and earnest as he spoke softly to me. "I love you too, Rick. We can be together forever now. We can be here for each other always and forever." I leaned closer to him to kiss his sweet, inviting lips, but before I could reach him, the light began to slowly dim in the box, which I realized was a coffin. A chill wind began to blow over us, raising gooseflesh all over my young, hairless body as the light faded completely away. "How do you know?" I whispered, and my own voice sounded hollow in my ears.. It was totally dark in the coffin now. I heard Taine's breathing grow deeper, grating and wet, and his voice echoed strangely, chilling my blood. "Because I'm dead!" he suddenly wailed. I panicked as I felt his arms turn cold, his grip on me tightening and pulling me closer in the inky blackness. I knew it wasn't Taine anymore, but some malevolent thing from beyond the grave, and it wanted to have me in its clutches for eternity. I tried to move, to escape the thing's arms, but couldn't. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out and I could feel hot breath on my neck... ---------------- "Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed, sitting bolt upright and shaking, covered with clammy sweat. I was back in my bed at home, the moonglow from my open window lighting my darkened room. I shivered, daring to flick my arm out quickly from under my quilt to turn on my bedside lamp. It was 5:15 a.m., I realized from the alarm clock on my nightstand. Rex would be awake, sitting at the kitchen table as always, doing the morning crossword puzzle. I bolted from my bed, eager to escape the lingering effects of my nightmare and still wondering what had actually happened the night before. Donning a robe, I padded silently down the hall to avoid waking Tynah, who usually slept in until around 6:30 before getting ready for work. I walked through the living room, being careful to avoid the large brass table which Rex had acquired in Barcelona, Spain and which -- as I learned sneaking in the doggie door late one night -- sounded like a giant gong if you hit it the wrong way. I looked out the sliding glass door onto the patio, seeing our fox terrier (unimaginatively named Foxy by Tynah) lapping at his water bowl. Upon seeing me, Foxy bounded through the doggie-door and presented himself for petting. I ruffled the soft orange fur between his ears, and he licked my hand happily. I noticed that I was still wearing a green plastic hospital bracelet and yanked it off, depositing it into the plastic trashcan as I strolled into the kitchen with Foxy following close behind. Rex had his glasses on, and sat at the kitchen table working his crossword puzzle. The clock-radio softly played a country music station next to him, and he looked up at me briefly as I entered, pouring myself a cup of coffee and joining him at the table. Rex had a cup of coffee too, but I could smell that it was mostly full of bourbon. "How'd you sleep," he asked absently, turning his attention back to the puzzle. "I had weird dreams," I said, blowing on my coffee to cool it a bit before sipping loudly. "What the hell happened last night, Rex?" "Some drunken bitch sent you to the hospital," he responded, with his usual candor. "She'd been tooting it up at the country club and didn't even think that she was driving with a kid in the car, and with no fucking seatbelt on to boot. Went sailing through the red light, the kid went through the windshield, and that's about the size of it." "Is the boy... Rex, is he dead?" I asked, my voice trembling. Rex looked up at me, removed his glasses and set them on the table along with his pen. He always did the crossword in pen, which I found strangely impressive. He leaned back and looked at me with concern. "No," he said after a moment. "He's not dead, but he's going to wish he was. The doctor told me he needed 92 stitches in face, and he's going to have heavy scars for the rest of his life. CPS is getting involved, too, so he'll probably lose his mother as well." "He's going to go to a foster home?" I asked. "Yup," Rex replied, growling angrily. "And he's going to be a hell of a lot better off in the long run." I asked about how I got home, but he had already put his glasses back on and returned to his puzzle. I knew I wasn't going to get much more conversation out of him that morning, so I sipped the rest of my coffee in silence. I considered the night's events, my dream, and Taine Maxwell as a song by Anne Murray played on the radio. When I was young, my heart was young, then too And anything that it would tell me, that's the thing that I would do But now I feel such emptiness within For the thing that I want most in life's the thing that I can't win I got up from the table, rinsed my coffee cup, and headed to the bathroom to take a shower before getting ready for school. When I had dressed, I came back into the kitchen and found a crisp five-dollar bill on the table. I pocketed it, still not used to having money every day, and left for the school bus. ------------------------------ Chapter 7 Taine didn't come to school that Tuesday, and I didn't blame him. He had been through so much in the last few months. First the death of his mother, then being uprooted from everything he had known in New York and plopped down here in San Antonio, where he had nothing and no one until I entered his life on the third day of school. Of course, Taine's troubles hadn't been over yet. On that same day, he had been assaulted in the lockerroom by Coach Keith, forcibly stripped and thrown into the shower against his will. I hadn't seen him in four days, but he seemed to have bounced back from that incident by Monday, only to be involved in a terrible car accident on Monday night, when his head had smashed into the windshield of his dad's Mercedes and his new friend -- me -- had fallen unconscious and spent most of the night in the hospital. My heart ached for him, and my thoughts were preoccupied with worrying for him all day. By the time lunch rolled around, I was an emotional wreck, and not because of the accident, the shredded face of the truck driver's young son, or the night I had spent in the hospital and at home, which had ended with a terrifying dream that woke me up shaking and afraid. No, I was a wreck because I was consumed with worry over Taine. At lunchtime, I went to the pay phones to try to call him. Stupidly, I realized I didn't know his phone number. I called 411, the directory assistance code, and hopefully asked for the phone number of Sylvester Maxwell, Taine's father. "We're sorry, sir," said the operator after a few minutes. "That number appears to be unlisted. Would you like to try a different person?" I hung up the phone, feeling dejected, and made my way to my next class. I was feeling some level of "okay" by the time Drama class rolled around, and was immensely relieved when Mr. McRory, having learned of my accident the night before, allowed my group to rehearse our scene in the auditorium rather than performing that day as we had been scheduled to do. I was probably the only person in P.E. class who was relieved that we spent the class jogging around the track, because it allowed me to be alone with my thoughts, and all my thoughts were of Taine. -------------------- I arrived home by 4:15, and went outside to feed and water the birds, with our dog Foxy trotting along behind me. When I was done, I went back in the house and found Rex dressed in his old military uniform, which still looked sharp and clean despite its age. "Where's Tynah?" I asked. "She's in the bedroom getting ready," said Rex, straightening his tie in the ornate living-room mirror. "We're going to the Officer's Club tonight for some bullshit wingding. "Oh, yeah," I said. "The Annual Ball. I completely forgot. What time does it start?" "It starts at six," said Tynah, entering the room in a beautiful blue sequined dress with white heels and matching purse and earrings. "You'll be okay here, won't you honey? At least you won't be eating dinner alone." That aroused my suspicion. "Oh, no, you didn't get me a babysitter, did you? I'm fifteen years old!" Rex grinned and shook his head. "I almost forgot to tell you," he said. "Sylvester Maxwell called me earlier today. He's got to fly up to Houston tonight to tape some morning sports show, so he asked if Taine could spend the night. I said it worked out perfectly because we had this shindig to go to and your maw didn't want you to be alone. Is that okay with you?" My eyes lit up, and my heart sang, although I tried to contain my enthusiasm lest I gave off a "tell." "It doesn't matter if it's okay or not," he cackled. "Taine will be here in a few minutes." Tynah came up to me and began fussing with my hair, for what reason I know not. She told me that there were two Tupperware containers in the fridge which we could heat up for dinner, and reminded me about the emergency numbers posted on the wall by the phone in the kitchen. She also wrote down the number of the Officer's Club on a notepad next to said phone, and promised that she and Rex would be home by midnight. I assured them that Taine and I would be okay, and hustled them out the door to the car. As I watched them pull backwards out of the driveway, I spotted Taine walking up the street holding a battered military rucksack made of faded green canvas, and ran down the slope of our hilly front yard to greet him. "Have a good time, boys," I heard my mother call, and saw her arm -- with a white pearl bracelet around the wrist -- waving from the open passenger window as my dad drove them away. I waved back and shrugged at Taine, who smirked, seeing that his dad wasn't the only embarrassingly doting parent in our little neighborhood. I helped him with his bag, which seemed way too heavy for his fragile young shoulders, and led him into the house, delighted at having an evening alone with my sad, beautiful new friend. ------------------------------ We talked a lot over dinner, but avoided the topic of the previous night's car accident. Neither one of us was particularly anxious to relive that experience while it was so fresh in our minds. Instead we talked about Polk High, how it was different than middle school, and how his middle school in New York had been different than mine here in Texas. I became strangely uncomfortable when he asked me about Kirsten, whom -- his keenly observant eyes had picked up -- was "hot to get her jollies" with me, in his words. "She's got a really nice rack," he said. "Are you two serious?" I tried to slyly change the subject by mentioning my date with her, moving the discussion quickly to the werewolf film we had seen at the theater. He either didn't notice that I was doing it, or -- more likely -- decided that I didn't really want to talk about Kirsten and decided to indulge me. Taine hadn't seen the film, but allowed as how he really liked horror movies, and we began talking about our favorites. I had happened to notice that "Alien" was showing on cable that night after thumbing through the guide, and suggested that we watch it, as neither of us had been old enough to see the R-rated monster movie when it had played theaters a few years before. I made popcorn and we went to the living room, where Taine sat in the plush Laz-E Boy recliner in the corner, and I sat on the fluffy shag carpet a few feet away, leaning one of Rex's large corduroy floor pillows against the wall. Although Rex and I weren't related by blood, we were both definitely "floor people" rather than "couch people" when it came to watching TV. We watched the film and enjoyed it, happily munching popcorn and losing ourselves in the scary story while Foxy moved back and forth between us a few times, receiving copious petting from both Taine and myself. I was happy to see that Taine liked animals, and asked him if he had any pets. "Shh," he said, nodding his head toward the TV. "Watching it." I had to admit to myself that as good as the film was, and as big a fan I was of horror movies in general, I was far more interested in looking at Taine than at Sigourney Weaver or her insectoid alien tormentor. The room was dark except for the light from the television, and I watched its shifting patterns playing on Taine's face, rapt with attention as he watched the mayhem on screen. He had removed his cap, and I was able to study his smooth, angelic features unobstructed for the duration of the film. It was heaven. --------------------- After the movie ended, I took his rucksack, which I had set on the kitchen floor when we came in, and carried it into the guest bedroom. He didn't follow me, so I went back down the hall and found him in my room, studying my dresser and nightstand. I jumped on my bed and watched him as he explored, although -- as I may have mentioned before -- there wasn't much to see. My biological mother had thrown away most of my books, toys and other accumulated junk before I moved into this house, and I hadn't had much of a chance to acquire any other stuff. "Your room looks like mine," Taine observed. "Like you don't..." "Like I don't live here at all," I finished for him. "I know. Well, we're both new around here and we haven't had a chance to do much living yet." I watched him, wondering whether it was safe to move the conversation into this territory, deciding that it was as good a time as any to find out. "Rex and Tynah aren't my real parents," I explained. "I didn't grow up here either. They're my mom's parents, my grandparents. They adopted me when she went in the army." Taine seemed to consider this for a moment as he lowered himself onto my bed, kicking off his Jegs and sitting cross- legged a couple of feet away from me. He looked down at his feet, clad like my own in plain white tube-socks, and said quietly, "Do you miss her?" "My real mom? Yeah, sometimes," I replied honestly. "Although she used to beat the shit out of me a lot when I was a kid. I had only just finally stopped being scared of her when she up and left for the army." "I'm sorry she beat you," Taine said tenderly, his eyes still downcast. He paused, his breath hitching in his chest. Without looking up, he whispered, "I miss mine." "I know," I said softly, resisting the urge to reach out and stroke his hair. "I know you do." He slumped lower, his thin shoulders shaking. I saw tears drip onto his pants leg and spread on the fabric, turning his tan pants a darker brown where they fell. My heart broke for him, ached for him. I wanted to comfort him, and I didn't know what to do. Taine had lost his mother, his mommy, and while I didn't have quite the same feelings for my own mother, I knew enough about what parents were supposed to be like from watching television to understand how much she had meant to him. Seeing him that way, crying, hurting, fragile and vulnerable, I bled for him. I couldn't stop myself from being honest with him, stupidly thinking that what this poor, tragically broken boy needed at that moment was to know exactly how I felt for him. I wasn't thinking. I was just feeling, caught up in his pain and feeling it in my own chest as he shook and wept. I scooted closer to him on the bed, put my hands on his knees and said "I love you, Taine." Then I leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. The kiss shocked Taine, who pulled back and looked at me with wide, teary and confused eyes. The irises, rimmed with red, seemed to go from hazel to watery blue to steel grey in an instant. I knew then that I had made a terrible mistake. Taine jumped from the bed and left my room, slamming the door a little on his way out. Oh, God, dear Jesus... What had I done? I sat there on the bed with tears in my eyes, cursing myself for making the move, for letting my heart and teenaged desire run away from me. It was stupid, and I prayed that it wouldn't cost me Taine's friendship. But of course it would, I told myself, as one of a million panicked thoughts ran through my mind. He had opened himself up to me, poured his tears out in front of me, and this is how I responded? What did I think was going to happen, that he was going to throw himself into my arms like in some cheesy TV-movie? That he was going to confess his eternal love for me, and let me kiss him and comfort him and make love with him into the wee hours of the morning? How could I be so fucking stupid? I began to cry as I heard the shower running in the bathroom. He's washing my kiss off. He's washing me off. He's erasing me from his life right now! I imagined Taine scrubbing at his lips under scalding water, steam billowing from the shower. He was disgusted, I was sure, and he probably felt betrayed as well. Betrayed that the one person he had chosen, had deigned to let past his ironclad emotional defenses was a... NO! I corrected the bad voices in my head before they could say the word. I hadn't taken advantage of him, and although I was driven by a desire so deep that it had consumed my mind, heart and soul since I had met him, there was nothing wrong with that. It was love. Real, deep and abiding eternal love. That is what he needed right now... Wasn't it? I mean, if he had to label it as something sick or twisted, that was the fault of his upbringing, of the same perverse society which he so often condemned... Wasn't it? All I wanted to do was give him what he needed, what he truly wanted, and that was love, compassion, understanding, undying devotion... WASN'T IT? Oh, God, oh God, ohgodohgodohgod... OH, GOD!!! I would kill or die for him, I knew, and I knew also that even though he said he wanted all of those things, dreamed and yearned and hungered for them, that it didn't matter, because I was a boy. I almost wanted to be a girl at that moment, and I had never been that kind of... STOP! I shut down the voice in my head once again before it said that vile word, and took a deep breath, which hitched several times in my chest as the sobs began to come. I was offering Taine everything he always said he wanted, wasn't I, only to have him throw it back in my face and cut me out of his life! I was so wrapped up in my tears and self-pity, my self-righteous indignation, that I hadn't even noticed the shower turning off, or the door to the bedroom slowly opening. Taine padded across the floor and sat gently on the edge of the bed. He put his hand on my leg, tenderly patting the outside of my thigh as I curled in the fetal position, sobbing into my pillow with my back toward him. I turned to look at him, seeing that he was dressed in street clothes, his cap silhouetted against the light from the hallway. So it was true. He was leaving. Taine was going to go home and never come back again. He would never be my friend again, let alone my lover or partner, as I had so foolishly hoped and prayed. I turned away and began to sob again, my body shaking like it would never stop. "It's going to be okay," he said softly. "Shhh, everything's going to be okay." Somehow, his forgiveness only made it worse, and I continued sobbing as he rose and quietly left the room. I tried to hold my breath and be quiet, and then I heard the front door open and close, gently. I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling of my room, feeling more desolate and lonely than I had ever felt in my troubled young life. I was still laying there crying when Rex and Tynah came home, wondering why Taine wasn't there. ------------------------------ Thank you for reading Chapters 6 & 7. To be continued... "Snowbird" written by Gene MacLellan, performed by Anne Murray. c 1970 by Capitol Records. I am once again very happy to get your e-mails, as they are the only way I know whether you like this story enough for me to continue. You have all been overwhelmingly supportive of this, my first Nifty story, and I thank you all. I'm always happy to hear from readers at DJAkeeba@aol.com If you are enjoying this story and others on this website, please consider donating to keep Nifty going. See details at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html