Date: Tue, 13 Feb 2007 12:51:05 -0800 (PST) From: Stephen Aramburu Subject: Wish Upon A Star 6 A whirlpool of ominous black clouds swirled beneath the heavens, threatening to strip the Nebraskan meadows clean of its color. Sunlight shattered through the small rips and cracks of the dark, stormy clouds, casting an eerie shadow throughout the meadows. At the moment, the skies were holding firm. But at any second, even the sky could lose its grip on the heavy clouds, releasing a torrent of rain that'd be washing away the beautiful flowers without much effort... Laughter resonated throughout the hallways of the mansion on this dark, cloudy day...innocent, childish, yet cruel. Mr. and Mrs. Carter were away for spring break, in a romantic getaway to the Bahamas. Derek had just been hired this past week and was getting paid for doing nothing. And Joe...nobody could find Joe. Not the maids...not the butlers...not Keisuke... A few began to panic, though most didn't care. ************************************************************************ ************************************************************************ "Dear diary..." Derek read, trying to contain his laughter. "I have always had one fear...tellitubbies...those fat red and purple freaks with their antennas always creeped the jeepers outta me. Everytime I see a tellitubby, I start crying. One time, I even pooped my pants because...because...oh God! This is too funny!" Derek and Joe grasped onto each other, unable to remain standing from all the laughter that their lungs were generating. Keisuke was such a pussy, Joe thought. And because he had read the diary, he now knew...Keisuke got kicked out of sumo wrestling because he'd molested a boy and that tellitubbies made him crap his pants. Joe had been reading Keisuke's diary for hours. And now, all the emotions...the fear and respect he'd had for Keisuke...the indescribable shock that he'd felt when he'd first read the diary...all these unnecessary emotions disappeared into a puff of smoke. What stood in its place was an anxious, anticipatory excitement that came with each flip of the page. Keisuke's very being...never before imagined aspects and dimensions of his pathetically babyish self was being unveiled, like events of a novel, with each and every page of the diary. Joe now viewed his tormentor in a completely different light. Joe and Derek laid atop their bellies upon the plain white floor of the drab, yet spacious room, by the window that overlooked the horizon. It was the same room that Joe and Derek had randomly stumbled upon while fleeing from Keisuke, being just two doors away from the meadow. It was about as big as Joe's own room and would've been nearly identical, if all the unnecessary luxuries (the gold-encrusted curtains, the plush carpet, etc.) that suffocated the latter were taken away. The room had a window, overlooking the meadow, as well as a small, distant forest that Joe had never noticed before. In the middle of the room, against the back wall, was a plain white mattress and a door that led to the room within which Derek had slept the night before. It was strange to Joe that a random mattress would just happen to be in a room that he was sure nobody had ever known existed. But then again, truth didn't have to make sense. "Look, Joe," Derek cried, pointing to the top of the page. "Now, he talks about you!" "Derek...don't...don't," Joe pleaded, not wanting Derek to read what Keisuke thought of him. He, himself, wasn't really sure why he'd felt this way. Perhaps it was from the sheer resentment that he possessed for the violent giant. "Dear Diary..."Derek read coyly, sending chills of annoyance and shivers of embarrassment down Joe's spine. But then, a pause of silence. Joe looked at Derek, surprised by the sudden quiet. "Joe," Derek whispered. "Yeah, Derek..." "What are your parents like, Joe?" "My parents?" Derek nodded. "My parents are basically...you know...they...uh..." "Are they nice to you, Joe? Do they care about you?" Joe sat up and sighed, his eyes darting out the window, into the dark clouds. "They're okay people," Joe said matter-of-factly. "It's not like they're horrible bitches or anything like that. It's just that...care more about the company and the money than they do me." "Company..." "I'm the heir to my family's fortune," Joe explained. "We have millions and millions in our bank account." "That's awesome, then," Derek said sitting up with Joe. "All that money goes to you when your mom and dad dies." "I don't want the money," said Joe. "You see...because of this money, my parents make me study and work eight hours a day so that I'll learn how to maintain the family business and get even richer in the future. And plus, you know...Keisuke...he beats the shit out of me for no reason." "That sucks," Derek said sympathetically. "You know what sucks?" Joe continued, his anger leaking into his voice. "I have no freedom whatsoever. I'm never allowed to play games or have any fun. My social life is so pathetic. I don't even go to a public school. I'm not allowed to have friends. I'm not allowed to have a life. And my parents don't really love me. All they care about are money and fortune! The whole reason I exist is to be their tool...their way of making sure that their company survives after they die!" "Oh..." "I still remember this one time, when I was eight years old. That day, I'd fallen down the stairs and sprained my ankle. Oh...you should've seen it," Joe groaned, shaking his head in memory of the pain. "It hurt like hell. My foot was all black and blue...I was screaming and crying and...ugh...couldn't even walk. A nice young maid carried me to bed and told my parents. Parents said that they'd be there in a matter of minutes. So I waited and waited and waited...minutes, hours...but they never came. Then I realized what they were doing. They were counting their money...running their hands through the tens and twenties...sucking in the aroma of the hundreds...they didn't even give a shit about me!" Then, another pause. "You know something?" Derek stated light-heartededly. "You're really pathetic, Joe." "What?" Joe said, surprised and somewhat offended. "You get beaten up everyday by somebody who craps his pants whenever he sees a tellitubby." Joe chuckled, his dark mood immediately lighting up. He couldn't help but smile at Derek's sly remark. He tried to feel angry. He tried to feel offended. But there was no way that he could've felt either toward Derek. Derek was just too innocent and too spirited. "You know what we should do, someday?" Derek continued, falling back onto the floor, trying to contain his laughter. "What?" "We should drug Keisuke up, you know, get him high or drunk. Then..." Muffled giggles and snorts came out of Derek's mouth. "What?" "Dress up as tellitubbies and watch that fat bitch cry and shit his pants!" Joe burst out in laughter and playfully punched Derek in the arm. "You little...yeah...we really should do that!" The two of them laid themselves down on their backs and stared, dreamily, into the thick, dark clouds overhead. For a while, their minds seemed to wander aimlessly, back and forth, into and out of random thoughts. But then, as if awakened from a trance, Joe's body snapped upward, until Joe's upper body was sitting almost at a ninety degree angle from his legs. "You know," he suddenly said, breaking the silence. "I've never told this to anyone before, but...see, I've always had a dream, um..." Derek sat up, realizing Joe's hesitance. "It's okay. Everybody has dreams, Joe," Derek said softly, putting a hand on Joe's back to show his support for his older friend. "Dreams might seem embarrassing or stupid but...you know, they are what give us hope. They are what motivate us to be more than anybody can ever expect of us." Joe smiled, having gained confidence in Derek's reassurance. "Well," he continued. "I don't want all this money. If I had a choice, I would've never been born into the Carter family. All the endless hours wasted in front of a textbook and all the beatings Keisuke had given me...all the money in the world isn't worth this. What I've always wanted to be is...an artist." "An artist?" "Yeah...pretty stupid, huh?" Joe laughed bitterly, hoping to reduce the pain of Derek's inevitable laughter by insulting himself first. "No...not at all," Derek responded kindly. "Why would you think wanting to be an artist is stupid?" Joe peered up at Derek in disbelief of Derek's response to the dream. Never before had anybody given him such encouragement. Never before had anybody told Joe that he had the right to be what he wanted to be. Derek's response, though simple, created a beam of warmness within Joe's heart that almost moved him to tears. "I've had this recurring dream...well, daydream, actually, for some time, now," Joe continued, staring upward toward nothing. "In it, I saw myself, Joe Carter, standing proudly in the middle of a gigantic art museum, surrounded by majestic paintings, sketches, drawings, sculptures...you name it. And all these world-class works of art were done by me. People from all over the world are swarming in, like vultures, trying to catch a glimpse of my legendary artwork. I have galleries all over the world. New York, France, Belgium, China, India. I'm just this big-time, world-renowned artist!" "That's pretty cool," said Derek. "No. I'm not done yet," said Joe. "So...basically, I'm standing in this gallery with what seems like millions and millions of people. And there, in the middle, among the sea of faces, are my parents. They're looking at my artwork and smiling...smiling like I've never seen them smile before. It looked like they were actually proud of me and what I've become in life! For once, in my life, I actually felt good about myself, seeing my own parents admiring what I've done." "Must've sucked when you woke up and realized that it wasn't real, huh?" Derek said. "Yeah...it did," Joe nodded. Suddenly, a whiplash of lightning followed by a thunderous crack ripped through the air. The howling wind accelerated and started uprooting the delicate flowers, which, began fluttering in midair toward whichever direction the wind desired, like a colony of deformed butterflies. The swirling dark clouds opened up, releasing an army of small, yet numerous raindrops that flooded the colorful valley, draining away all of its colors, as though someone was shooting a water gun at a beautiful, fresh-made painting. The vibrant colors of the meadow soaked away and were replaced, instead, by drab, yet equally beautiful hues of gray. Within seconds, muddy puddles began forming within the soft grass. "Look, Joe," Derek said pointing out the window, a big smile ripping its way across his face. "It's raining." "I know," Joe shrugged, as Derek stood up and began walking toward the door. "Derek...where are you going?" Joe asked. "Uh...I dunno," Derek replied with a sly smile on his face. "Derek..." But before Joe could even get himself up off the floor, Derek had already bolted into the rain-drenched meadows. Joe followed after Derek and opened the door to the meadow. There, Derek was dancing, singing, and wallowing drunkenly in the mud. Joe stood in the doorway, annoyed. "Derek!" he yelled. "Get your ass in here! Do you wanna get zapped by lightning, or something?" "I don't care!" Derek yelled back. "I'm just dancing in the rain...like in that movie!" "No!" Joe shouted back. "It's stupid and it's dirty and..." Wham! A crapload of dirt impacted Joe's face, shoving what looked, felt, and smelled like shit down Joe's eyes, nostrils, and mouth. Though he wasn't able to see anything besides wet, sticky globs of brown, Joe was sure that Derek was on the ground, pointing and laughing at him. Derek! That was it! That was the breaking point for Joe. The sheer thought of Derek's laughter, real or imaginary, was too much for Joe to bear. He wasn't just going to let that arrogant little blonde thing throw mud in his face! He was going to set the record straight...show Derek who the boss was. All of a sudden, a blinding flash of energy and adrenaline burst through Joe's body, as the boy jumped into the soaked meadow, indifferent to the heavy raindrops that soaked his clothes and the thick layers of mud that wrapped themselves around his ankles. Joe was a mad, drunken beast whose chains just got sawed off, living in the spur of the moment...fueled by a combination of anger at having mud thrown at his face and an unquenchable thirst for happiness and freedom. Sprinting like a lightning bolt to the closest puddle he could find, Joe scooped up a gigantic ball of mud and tossed it squarely at Derek's chest. Derek's reaction enabled him to dodge out of the direct path of the mud ball, but wasn't quick enough to prevent him from getting hit anyway. The ball of mud collided with Derek's rib, causing his slight body to collapse into a whole puddle of mud. Joe jumped up and down like a 5 foot 8 4-year-old, trying to contain his laughter, as he saw Derek stand up on all fours. Derek's whole body was dyed brown by the muddy puddle, including his golden-brown hair and his bronze-colored skin. Derek's awkward state bore amazing resemblance to that of a swamp monster. Derek looked at himself in the puddle and burst out with laughter. "Nice shot, dickhead!" he grinned. Joe was still celebrating his "victory" when he felt an abrupt pull on his left leg that cause him to stumble, face-first, into his own mud puddle. Derek was fast, Joe thought. I didn't even see him running up to me. "Now, we're both hideous swamp monsters!" Derek grinned. Joe sat up and gazed into his reflection in the puddle, then gazed toward Derek, then the reflection, then Derek, then reflection, then Derek. Joe's lungs then vomited spasms of laughter as he saw the pathetic state that he and Derek were now in. "You wanna dance in the rain with me now, Joe?" Derek grinned mischievously. "Why not," Joe shrugged. With that, he yanked Derek up and began jumping around and singing random tunes, occasionally opening his mouth to collect some raindrops to quench his thirst. Joe had let go, allowing his dormant childishness to creep up and take over. The rainstorm roared into its climax, as Joe and Derek twisted, turned, and circled around the "sacred puddle", singing and whooping inaudible words. Water and mud splashed about their feet, as their "dancing ritual" winded upward and upward into a spasmic climax. Joe and Derek were wet. They were dirty. They were covered with mud. Dead grass and flower petals stuck onto their feet. They were stupid, uncivilized barbarians who worshipped a mud puddle. But they didn't care. The whole world could've been watching and laughing at these two idiots and their "ritual" at this exact moment via satellite and they would care. Care. What was the meaning of this care? What was the point of caring about anything? The feeling that they shared...the breathtaking liberation of letting life take its own course and allowing yourself to let go and have all the fun in the world...it was too much... ************************************************************************ ************************************************************************ For the past two days, it rained relentlessly. But on this day, as spring break came to a close in Nebraska, the dark clouds had finally died. In its place stood a moon- lit night, with its many bright stars shimmering together in unison. Joe liked the rain. But he also missed the stars and the moon. For it was on such a night that he'd wished upon a star for Derek. Derek...Joe's saving grace. Joe's angel. Derek had rescued Joe. Derek had freed him from the torment...opened his eyes to how beautiful and how fun life could be. Derek had convinced Joe that nothing...absolutely nothing was impossible. Not any silly dream or any fantasy. Not a dream of escaping the hell that was the Carter household nor was an ambition...a determination to become a world-renowned artist. But alas, spring break was coming to a close. There was only tonight, the after, and perhaps another afternoon before his parents would come home from their vacation and the normal pattern of life would resume. There wasn't much time left, Joe knew. Derek had to know. Derek had to find out about Joe's feelings for him. But how? ************************************************************************ ************************************************************************ Derek and Joe wandered through the hallways, that night, trying to navigate their way back into Joe's room. They'd been traveling aimlessly within the maze that was the Carter family mansion for what seemed like an eternity, but to no avail. The good news was, however, that no matter where they were, they would always find a place to sleep should they give up searching. If the mansion had too much of anything, it was bedrooms. The two of them had been walking for hours, opening random doors, relying on only their instincts to navigate themselves "back home." Then, they reached a hallway. There was nothing special or different about this particular hallway. There was nothing special or different about the third door of this particular hallway. But Joe's instincts received pulsating vibes from this third door every time he looked at it. Joe knew he had to open it. He reached out for the doorknob and gently pushed the door open. What he saw amazed him. It was a gorgeous sight...the most beautiful room he had ever witnessed. The room's walls shimmered with an eerie, silver glow that reflected off of the smooth, ivory floor. There were two huge windows through which moonbeams shone, through the glass, into the room. The lower sections of the walls were covered with glass panels through which one could see his own reflection. Joe and Derek stood in awe of the magnificent sight that stood before them. A ballroom, Joe concluded. Slowly and carefully, as if not wanting to disrupt the perfect aura of the magnificent ballroom, Joe and Derek stepped through the doorway onto the slick ivory floor. "What is this place?" Derek said silently. "It's the ballroom," Joe replied. "You know...where rich people used to do all their dancing." "Have you ever been in here, Joe?" "No I haven't," Joe said. Just then, Joe noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a stereo, lying beside a pile of tapes. "I guess this is where they play the music," Joe shrugged. "Ooo...there's music!?" Derek said in his typical whiney tone. "Play some, Joe! Play some!" "Alright...alright...I will...I will," Joe relented. He picked up a tape and read the sticker. "Bach...Mozart...Beethoven..." "What the hell are you saying?" Derek asked. "I don't know," said Joe. "It's just what the tape says." "Play it, Joe!" Derek pleaded. "C'mon...I wanna listen!" Joe sighed and popped the tape into the stereo. The stereo, in response, played a cacophony of cheesy piano notes and ridiculously outdated 16th Century tunes. Joe and Derek stared in confusion at each other...and burst into spasmic laughter. "People dance to this shit?" Joe said, fully amused. "Oh...I wanna dance! I wanna dance! Can we dance, Joe? Please?" Derek begged. "Alright...alright..." Joe snickered. "We'll dance...we'll dance." Joe and Derek faced each other. Joe grabbed Derek's left hand with his right and placed his other hand on Derek's hip. Joe was much bigger and much taller than Derek was, so the position was very awkward. "What are we doing?" Derek asked. "This is from the 16th Century," Joe replied, pointing to the stereo. "We have to dance like people did back when this stuff was considered music." Derek giggled at Joe's humorous comment. Together, "Lord" Joe and "Lady" Derek broke down into a baboon-like waltz, making a complete mockery of the musical genius of Bach that was once admired around the world, all the while snickering and guffawing at the ridiculousness of their dancing and the music they were dancing to. The two of them were having so much fun that neither really cared about finding Joe's room anymore. But before long, both Joe and Derek became absorbed into the beat of the music and the two of them danced likewise. Their expressions were no longer that of humor and amusement. They no longer intended to make fun of classical music. The two of them were stuck by an indescribable feeling...a closeness...a bond that glued their souls together into one. At that very moment, the tape skipped into its next track: the song, "Angels" by Jessica Simpson. The slow, romantic beat began to resonate through the eerily quiet ballroom. Derek and Joe waltzed to its slow, romantic piano intro. Derek snuggled his head against Joe's chest, as the two of them waltzed gracefully atop the ivory. "Derek..."Joe whispered. "Derek..." "Yeah, Joe?" "Can I ask you something, Derek and trust that you'll answer me honestly?" "Sure, Joe." "This isn't a joke, Derek." "I know Joe." "Alright," Joe sighed. "This is it," he thought to himself. He took a deep breath. "Do you...do you like me Derek?" "Of course I like you, Joe," said Derek. "You're the best friend I've ever had." "No...that's not what I mean," Joe blurted out. "What I meant to say was...are you...attracted to me?" Derek looked up in confusion. "Attracted to you?" he said. "You know...like how boys are attracted to girls in those movies..." "Well...I...I...you see..." "Oh my God..." Derek thought to himself. "He knows! How could he know?" The two dancers, Derek and Joe, stopped right where they were, in the middle of their ballroom, in the middle of their waltz, allowing the romantic song to continue playing. Derek was caught. He knew it. Joe had figured it out. There was nowhere left to go...nothing left to do but to come clean. Tears filled Derek's, as he turned away from Joe, toward the windows. "Yes. Yes, Joe. It's true," Derek sobbed. "I am attracted to you. I've been attracted to you since the day we met!" "Really?" Joe gasped in awe. "You really..." Joe was speechless. All his dreams...all his fantasies were coming true. Joe's silence scared Derek. "Joe?" Derek moaned, turning around suddenly. "Joe...say something Joe...speak to me." "D..." "Joe...what's going on, Joe? Why are you shunning me?" "Uhh..." "Please don't hate me, Joe!" Derek cried, bursting into tears as he hugged Joe and cried into his chest. "Please don't hate me. Please. I couldn't stand the thought of you hating me, Joe! You're the best friend I ever had! You don't have to feel the same way about me, Joe. Just please...don't hate me!" "Oh...Derek..."Joe whispered silently, realizing how hurt Derek was. "I could never hate you, Derek. I'm so sorry for giving you that impression. I'm so sorry...I never meant to ask that question to hurt you, Derek. I should've never asked if you were attracted to me, or not! If I had known...I didn't mean to hurt you, Derek." At this point, Joe himself was at the verge of tears, as Derek continued to sob against Joe's chest. "Please don't cry, Derek!" Joe begged. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry...I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you cry, Derek. I would never make somebody like you cry on purpose...not somebody I love so much." Derek looked up at Joe, his tears continuing to flow downward from his eyelids. "Can...can you say that last part again?" "I would never make you cry, Derek," Joe reiterated. "No...the part after that..." Joe took a deep breath as a single tear began to flow down his cheek. "I...I love you, Derek," he whispered. "Really?" Derek sobbed. "Do you really love me, Joe?" Joe smiled and nodded, nervously swallowing his own saliva. "I...I love you too, Joe." Joe smiled at Derek and wiped away his tears. The two of them began feeling that strange feeling again...a hunger...a longer...a passion...but for what? Acting on sheer instinct, Joe gently brushed away Derek's long, blonde banes. Joe and Derek closed their eyes and their lips moved closer and closer and closer...until they touched. Soon, the two of them were kissing passionately, breathing heavily...their tongues sparring within one another's mouths. At that moment, the song had reached its climax. "I'm loving angels inteeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad," Jessica Simpson belted. "And through it all...he offers me protection...a lotta love and affection...whether I'm right or wrong..." And the two lovers, Joe and Derek, danced the night away in each other's embrace...under the moonlit sky. Alright, guys. Bear with me. We're getting close to the inevitable sex scene. Please tell me what you think. Send any comments, good or bad, to me, Steve, at aramflag@yahoo.com. Btw...if you wanna listen to Angels, by Jessica Simpson, here's the link: http://youtube.com/watch?v=406rvL2RQEA