Date: Fri, 18 Jul 2003 22:02:18 -0400 From: Jeff Wilson Subject: W.A.R. Part 4, Chapter 7 Ah, summer! How I have enjoyed getting out and walking this last week. What do we have here? A message at the beginning of the story! I just want to thank those who wrote this last week. I really appreciate it everybody! It's nice to know that there are people who care about the story and want it to continue, even though it's not one exciting sex scene after another. How about we lighten things up a bit now? The last ten chapters or so have been heavy on the dramatic side. It's time to let the boys have some fun. W.A.R. Part Four - Rehabilitation Chapter Seven : A Sunday with the Reilly's by Jeff Wilson "Boys! Wake up! It's almost time to go!" Dr. Reilly's voice interrupted what had been a fantastic sleep. I slowly stirred from my slumber to find Brett's side of the bed empty. I looked around the room and found him heading out the door. "Where are you going?" I asked groggily. "Wake up, lazy head. It's almost time to go." Brett said as he walked out. "Go where?" I muttered, but Brett was already gone. What had happened? Was I dreaming? I slowly roused myself out of bed and checked the clock. Eight thirty in the morning. Why would I want to get up so early on a summer day? I rolled back over, intending to go back to sleep when Dr. Reilly shook me. "Come on, Billy. You need to get ready." "Huh? But it's Sunday." I said rubbing my eyes. "That's right, time to go to church. Now get moving." She said as she started to head back to the door. "Church? But I don't go to church." I said. "Well, you will today. Now off you go." Then she left. I flung my legs out of the bed and rubbed my eyes again. My right eye ached a little. I knew I shouldn't have slept on that side, my eye always hurts when I do. Church? I hadn't been to church in two years. Brett never talked about it. I knew he went, but it wasn't a big deal to him. I stood up. My clothes were sweaty and clung to me. Brett walked back into the room already dressed in a pair of black slacks and a red button down shirt. He looked at me and started to laugh. "You look like hell." He said matter of factly. "Come on, the shower's ready." "But I didn't bring anything to wear for church." I said. "You're about my size, aren't you? You can wear something of mine. Now go take a shower. I'll have something ready for you when you get out." I walked drowsily into the bathroom and wrapped my cast in a plastic bag before stepping into the shower. I cleaned myself and felt the warm water revive me. When I stepped out of the shower, I realized that I had nothing clean to wear back to the room. So I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked back to Brett's room. Brett had laid some clothes on the bed, but he wasn't in the room. I closed the door and put on my underwear. Then I tried on the clothes. The pants were too short and the shirt was too tight. I walked down to the kitchen. Brett almost immediately started laughing at me. "Well, I guess you're still bigger than me." He said. Actually, I think I'd grown another inch over the last few months. Brett had caught up to me back in April, but now I was 5'8" and he was still 5'7". Dr. Reilly told me to change into regular clothes and we'd stop at my house on the way. When we got to the car, I slipped into the front seat. Brett complained about it, but it was too late, the seat was mine. As we drove to my house, Dr. Reilly told me to find something quickly, so we wouldn't be late. After I'd found some half way decent clothes for church, I walked back out to the car where they were waiting patiently. Brett had slipped into the front seat while I was inside. We left Donora and traveled up the road to Monongahela. Monongahela is much bigger than my town, but way smaller than Pittsburgh. Dr. Reilly drove to St. Anthony's Roman Catholic Church. Oh great! I forgot Brett was Catholic. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing during the service. Sit, stand or kneel. Brett said he'd tell me what to do, but it didn't make me feel any better. Brett and his mom took the holy water and did their cross thing when they walked inside. I just walked in and sat down. "So, this is your church, huh?" I whispered to Brett as his mom went to one of the confession rooms. I looked around at the many different pictures on the windows and admired the marble style floor and one of the highest ceilings I'd ever seen. "Yeah. Not too bad. You'll only be bored for an hour, then we'll go eat. Remember, don't go up when it's communion time. You're not allowed." "Well that sucks." I whispered. "Yeah, well I didn't make the rules. You don't want God to strike you down or anything, do you?" He whispered. "Shut up." I whispered back. Brett laughed Brett's mom came back made Brett go to the confessional. Boy, the things he'd have to confess! I sat there with Dr Reilly feeling very uncomfortable. More and more people were coming in. An elderly lady walked up to Dr. Reilly. "Jennifer! How are you today?" She asked. "Helen! I'm doing really well! How's John?" "Oh, he's not feeling well today. How's that boy of yours?" "Ornery, as usual." The lady laughed, then noticed me sitting there. "And who is this handsome young man?" "This is my second son for the week." Dr Reilly said laughing. "This is Billy Roberts, Brett's best friend. Billy, this is Helen Franklin." I extended my right hand and she shook it. "Oh my! What happened to your arm?" "I broke it playing basketball." I lied. "Oh dear!" Helen said. As she talked with Dr. Reilly about the dangers of sports these days, Brett returned. Before he could sit down, he was hugged and kissed by Helen. Brett smiled and asked her how she was doing. Then he sat down next to me. He snickered a little bit when he sat down. I asked him what was so funny. "The priest..." He whispered very quietly in my ear. "When I go back there, I just tell him a bunch of stuff every week and he just listens and tells me I'm forgiven and stuff. This week I told him that I masturbated twice every day and he almost choked. It was hilarious." "Brett!" I exclaimed. Both Helen and Dr. Reilly and some of the people around us looked at us. I turned a bright shade of red and slowly sunk down in the pew. Brett just laughed at me. The service was about to start, so Helen went to sit down. Dr. Reilly sat beside Brett. Brett snickered again and his mom whispered something in his ear. He sat really still and quiet for a minute or so, then started snickering again. I survived the longest hour of my life. I asked Brett when the sermon would end and he told me it was called a homily and that it would end when I stood up and told everyone I liked to suck dick. I elbowed him in the arm for that one. When it came time for the communion, Brett reminded me to stay seated and offered to stay with me. But as he sat there, his mom yanked him up and sent him on his way. I sat there like the spawn of wickedness while everybody else went up to receive communion. I was glad when the mass ended. As we were leaving, I noticed that many of the people greeted Brett and his mom. I felt really out of place while this was going on. I was used to knowing all of the same people that Brett knew. It was weird to be surrounded by strangers that all knew Brett, but didn't know me. I was just "Brett's friend." It made me feel uncomfortable. But I did notice that the priest sort of wiped his hand after Brett shook his hand. That made me laugh. As we were walking to the car, I noticed the sign again. "St. Anthony's... Hey, they named the church after you!" "Oh shut up William Air-run!" Brett mocked. "Saint Anthony?" Dr. Reilly said laughing. "Brett? A saint? Oh that's a good one Billy!" "Shut up, mom!" Brett replied, feeling rather annoyed by our two-on-one assault. So of course I called him Saint Anthony for the rest of the day. We continued talking about our names on the way home. "Yeah," Brett said, "Hey mom, did you know that if you take Billy's initials they spell WAR?" "Oh my! You're right! William Aaron Roberts! I've written that name but I never even realized that!" "What's your middle name Dr. Reilly?" I asked. Brett started laughing. I was confused. "Her middle name is Elizabeth. Jennifer Elizabeth Reilly. J.E.R.! How you doing today, Jer?" Brett laughed. Every time he said Jer, He pronounced it as one word that sounded quite silly. "Well, St. Anthony, I guess you would be A.B.R.. Aber? Hey Dr. Reilly, you should have called him Brett Anthony instead of Anthony Brett. Then he would have been Bar." I suggested. "Just because your parents gave you goofy initials doesn't mean other people have to." Brett replied. "Billy," Dr Reilly said, "You don't have to call me Dr. Reilly all of the time you know. My name is Jen. You make me feel old when you call me Dr. Reilly all of the time." "Can I call you Jen, too?" Brett asked. "What do you think?" She asked in a tone of voice that meant "no." "Yes, mother." Brett said sheepishly. "Hey, what's dickhea... I mean Dustin's middle name?" His mom looked over at him sternly, but Brett pretended that there was nothing bad about what he had almost called Dustin. "Dustin? You know what... I don't know. He's never told me. I know it starts with D. I saw his write Dustin D. Smith a few times. D.D.S.. Nothing funny about that." I was surprised when Dr. Rei... I mean when Jen started laughing. "DDS? Dustin should become a dentist. That would be perfect." Brett and I both looked at her without laughing. I don't think that we were ever as quiet as we were as that moment. We were quite confused. "D.D.S... Doctor of Dental Science... Get it? He should become a dentist... Oh never mind!" She continued driving without further humiliation. Then about five minutes later Brett started laughing. "Oh! I get it! D.D.S., DDS! That's funny, mom!" His mom could only sigh. The rest of the afternoon was fun. After we changed clothes at their house, we drove to Washington, the biggest city in our county, and had lunch at the Texas Roadhouse. Then Jen took me and Brett to see a movie. Then we went mini golfing. Brett slaughtered us, but I was playing with one hand, so it was a hollow victory. Brett wanted to go bowling, but Jen asked him to think about that for a minute. How was I going to bowl with my hand in a cast? Brett laughed and said he was just being stupid. When we got back to their house, I got another call from mom. Then we watched television in Brett's room until late in the evening. As we sat there, I mentioned to Brett, "So, I have to get my stitches out tomorrow. They'll have to cut this cast off and give me a new one. What color should I get?" "I don't know... How about blue? That'd be pretty cool." He turned to his desk and started writing in a notebook. "Blue... Maybe. Hey, I've been meaning to ask you something." I lay down on the bed and rested my head on my pillow. "Ask away." He said, barely looking up. "Who's in that picture up there?" I pointed up to the pictures on the bookshelf. Brett glanced up from his writing to look at the pictures. "That's my grandparents and me when I was a little kid. They used to take care of me when mom was starting work." He said. "No, I knew that. I meant the other picture, the one with your mom." I said. Brett didn't look up at all this time. "Oh, that one. That's my dad." "You mean you actually have his picture?" I asked, surprised considering the situation. "Yeah. I asked my mom if she had one and she gave it to me. It was nice to finally see him for myself, you know?" "Your mom kept his picture after everything?" "Yeah." Brett said, still not looking up from his notebook. "What are you writing?" I asked. "Nothing!" Brett said hastily. "You're full of questions today, aren't you?" "Is there something wrong with wanting to get to know you better?" I asked. Brett closed his notebook and turned around to look at me. "It's a journal. All right? I write in it every day. It's something I've done since I was ten. Go ahead and make fun." "No no. It's cool." "No it's not! It sucks. I only do it because my mom makes me." He said. "And you've kept on doing it for four years because your mom made you?" I said sarcastically. "How do you know how long I've been doing it?" Brett asked. "Ummm... Well... I guess I might as well be honest. I found the one from last year on your shelf and read the first page before I realized what it was and put it back." "Oh... Well, that's no big deal. I don't care if you read it. It's not like I write anything secret in it. I keep waiting to see if my mom's going to sneak in and read it. I mostly just write about what a dork you are." Brett said smiling at me. Brett turned off the light at his desk and put the journal on the shelf above the computer. Then he turned off the tv and walked over to the bed. He pulled off his shirt and shorts and stood there in just his boxers. He turned off the lights and settled into bed. "Hey, did you meet your quota today?" I asked. "What quota?" Brett mumbled. "You wouldn't want to have lied to your priest, would you? You have to jack off twice a day or you're a sinner." Brett started snickering again. "Shut up, Billy!" "I thought Saints were supposed to be holy and pure. How can you be holy and pure if you lie to your priest?" "I'll give you holy and pure! Now shut up and go to sleep." Brett said. "Hey, I'll help you do it if you're too tired!" I suggested. "Just pull off your boxers and let me do it for you..." "You're too much!" Brett said as we laughed ourselves to sleep. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Well, that's it for chapter seven, but it's not the end of what the boys are up to tonight. Have you ever been in the situation Billy was in before? In a place that you were so out of your element that you couldn't wait for it to end? Well, I guess we all have at one time or another. Just for the record, the church scene here may not be exactly how catholic church goes, but Billy was so anxious to get out of there he may have messed a few details up. (How's that for covering my behind?) Well, keep those summer emails coming! You make my day when you write to me. Sometimes I mess up and write to you twice by accident. But trust me, every letter has been read and is special to me. My address: vicioussquirrel@hotmail.com Next time, Billy gets a rude awakening. Or is it a nude awakening? I guess it's both. See you next time!