Date: Sat, 14 Sep 2002 23:23:21 -0400 From: Jeff Wilson Subject: W.A.R. Chapter 2 Your word of warning: This story may contain stuff that you won't like. It may be inappropriate for children, teenagers, wombats, and green blooded sloths. There's a boy running around the house naked here, so you may want to cover your eyes. An animal was harmed while I was writing this story: I ate a delicious chicken... sandwich. W.A.R. Part One: Black Summer Chapter Two -- A Late Night Conversation The night was cool and quiet in my house. The air conditioning kept the oppressive heat out of my room. It was so quiet that I could hear the air blowing out of the ducts into my room. It was so cool that I had to use a blanket to keep from freezing to death in my own bed. It was lonely in that cool quiet house. I had a tough time getting to sleep. Why had I been such a jerk to Brett? He was just trying to help me feel better. But then I had to go and tell him to fuck off. I wouldn't blame him if he never talked to me again. I don't know why I did that. I know he would have made me feel better. I just haven't been able to think straight lately. My mom wasn't home. She was across the street. She had to take care of my grandma. I would have to go over there in the morning so she could come over here and get some rest. She'd sleep over there at night, and my dad had begun sleeping in his chair in the living room. I'd eventually have to go turn off the TV. I knew that he'd tell me that he was watching it, even though he was asleep. I wonder if I talk in my sleep. Sometimes I have dreams that seem so real that I've thought I was awake. Luckily, I'd learned how to tell when I was dreaming about going to the bathroom! That stopped the bedwetting. I used to wet the bed a lot before I realized that I only did it when I dreamed about it. But now I was having different dreams. These dreams were absolutely weird. These were dreams that I could not wake up from, that left me with wet, slimy messes in my underwear. These dreams had started soon after I turned thirteen. And now, six months later, they were still happening. It was after one of these dreams that I woke up that night. I blinked a few times to get used to the dark. My night vision began to kick in. Then I felt the wetness. I reached down to into my underwear and felt it. I'd done it again. "Shit. Not again." I threw back the covers and swung my legs out of the bed. Off came the wet undies. I walked over to my dresser and grabbed a clean pair, then out of my room to the bathroom. I had to blink a few times again to get used to the bright lights of the bathroom. I didn't worry about walking around the house naked. No one was going to see me. Dad was asleep and Mom was across the street. And if they did see me naked, so what? They made me, they had to deal with me. Of course, when they made me I looked a lot different. I finished cleaning myself and I looked in the mirror. There was Billy Roberts staring back at me. A few years ago, people used to say I was so cute. Now they say I'm so handsome. I think I'm kind of goofy-looking myself. And that's just the parts that everyone can see! My hair is quite strange... always sticking up in the front. It's changing colors, too. It used to be all blond. Now it's mostly brown with traces of blond here and there. My eyes are weird too. They are green. I'm the only person I know with green eyes. Why can't they be blue or brown or some normal color? I wish I could get some contacts to make them a normal color, but my eyesight is perfect. Then there are the freckles. Not a lot, but still too many for me, under my eyes across my nose. They appear in the summer and fade in the winter. Oh, and then there is my mouth! There are teeth in there somewhere, buried behind a wall of metal and wires and rubber bands. That was my reward for turning thirteen back in December, a silver smile. At least my height is normal; five feet, six inches. I checked out my lower portions in the mirror. It was weird seeing hair down there. I had liked my body just the way it was and then it started changing. Now things were getting hairy and bigger. I knew it was part of growing up, but I didn't have to like it! I pulled on my new underwear and headed to the living room. Sure enough, there was dad, asleep in his chair with the TV on some old western show. My dad loves westerns. He watches them constantly. I hate them. Give me cartoons or Crocodile Hunter. As usual, dad was snoring. I walked to the TV and hit the switch. "I'm watching that." I chuckled a little. I knew he would say that! I walked slowly and quietly over to my dad. He was asleep alright. I bent down and kissed him on his cheek, his beard tickling my chin. This was the only time I felt comfortable kissing him. When he didn't know that I was doing it. When I was little, I didn't have a problem with it. But now it just didn't feel right, I don't know why. I quietly whispered, "Good night dad, I love you." Then I started sneaking back to my room. "I love you too, boy." I stopped. I looked back at my dad. He was smiling at me. He motioned for me to come back, and then had me sit down on his lap and gave me a big hug. "I'm proud of you, boy. Never forget that. Now matter what happens, and no matter what you do, I'll be proud of you." "Wow... thanks, dad." That was high praise indeed. I was going to get a big head. "You're a smart kid. But you know what? Even when you're all grown up, you know that you'll always be my little boy." "I know." "You're getting so big. You're almost as tall as me, but you'll always be my boy. Remember, no matter what, I love you very much." "I love you too, dad." Great, now he was beginning to get blurry. Darn hormones! I hate to cry! "Now, you need to get some sleep, and so do I. I'm sorry I missed your game today, I heard you hit another homer." "Yeah, but I struck out twice..." "Well that will happen. You have good times, then you have bad times. Life is full of ups and downs. One minute you're up, and the next minute life kicks you right in the balls." I laughed. My dad said "balls." "All right, knock it off! Go to bed." He bounced me off of his knee. "I'll tell you what, I'll try to make it to the game tomorrow, okay?" "Sure, thanks." I knew he wouldn't make it, but I played along. He worked too much to make it to my games. That seemed to be all he cared about lately, going to work and making money. I gave his another hug and felt his beard against my cheek, then headed off to my room. I slipped back under the cover and quickly fell asleep, happy and content after having that time with my dad. It was the first time that I felt really good about myself in a long time. Even when people thought I was a goofy little brat, my dad accepted and loved me. Even with all the stuff that was going on with grandma being sick, he was proud of me. I realized that I probably would not have that kind of closeness with my dad again. But for that night, I was George Roberts' little boy, and proud of it. That wraps up Chapter Two. Now you know what this kid looks like, and more about what's happening at home that's got Billy so stressed. Remember what his dad said about life's ups and downs, because it will soon come into play. Have comments? send 'em to: vicioussquirrel@hotmail.com Thanks!