***Please Note:  This story contains scenes depicting sexual acts between men and boys.  It also contains scenes depicting incestual sex.   If you are under the age of 18, or if it is illegal for you to read such material in your state, please do not read further.  If you are offended by this type of material, again, please do not read further.

This story is completely a work of fiction.  The characters and situations in the story exist solely in the author's imagination.  If you have questions, comments or suggestions regarding this story, please email me.   Flames ignored.

For a list of my other stories, and info about me, go to my Website.

Christopher's Story

Copyright 2002 Eric DravenŽ.

All Rights Reserved.

Chapter 24


    Then Zack walked into the apartment.  He was carrying a shopping bag, and there was a smile on his face until he saw the looks on the faces of everyone in the room.  He stopped short and looked at us for a minute.

    "What's going on?" he asked.

    "You are in a lot of trouble, young man," said Ben.

    "What a minute, Ben," said my mother.

    "You stay out of this, Maggie," yelled Ben.  "This is between me and my son."

    "What?" asked Zack.  A worried look washed over his face when he glanced at me.

    "You have some explaining to do," said Ben.  "I want to know just what you thought you were doing when you tried to force Christopher to suck your penis!"

    "Dad, I . . ."

    "No, don't," said Ben.   "I don't even think I want to hear what you have to say."

    He walked over to the phone and began to dial.  My mother started to say something, but Jim put his hand on her shoulder.   She looked furious, but she kept her mouth shut.  Ben turned to face Zack while he waited for whoever he called to answer the phone.

    "Yes, I'd like to talk to someone in sex crimes," he said.

    "Dad!" cried Zack.

    "Shut up," said Ben.   "You make me sick."

    Zack turned and walked back out of the apartment.  Ben talked to a detective, and the next thing I knew, Zack was back, and there were two detectives standing in our living room.  Sure, it didn't happen instantaneously, but I swear I don't remember anything between Zack's leaving, and Ben hanging up the telephone.

    Everything happened very fast.  One detective talked to Ben and Zack while the other talked to me and my mother.  Jim had plenty to say, but my mother kept trying to cut him off every time he started to talk.   Finally, the detective told her to remain silent.  I could see the fury in her eyes when he said it, but she let Jim say what he wanted to say.

    He told the detective about how I had tried to tell my mother what had happened, but she wouldn't listen to me.  He told him about the second time and how all my mother did was move me to another room.  He said that he'd urged her to call the police, but she would have nothing to do with that.

    Finally, the detective asked me to describe the events in my own words.  I was quiet for a few minutes while I thought about what I really wanted to say.  When I finally finished talking, my mother was sitting on the couch with tears running down her face, and the detective was using the telephone.

    Before I knew what was happening, Zack was placed under arrest for sexual assault, my mother was advised to seek legal council, and Jim was calling my father.  I didn't know what was going on.  My mother just kept staring at me as if I had betrayed her, and the detective kept telling her that if my father wasn't available to take me until all of this was over, then I would be placed in protective custody.

    Then, my mother was arguing with the detective about something.  He told her that she was walking on thin ice, and she slapped him.  I couldn't believe it.  My mother slapped the detective.  The next thing I knew, she was placed under arrest for assaulting an officer of the law.

    Then I was alone in the apartment with Jim and Ben.  Ben was getting ready to head down to the police station to talk to them about Zack.  I didn't know what to say or think about any of it.  I just sat down on the couch and listened to the two men talk.

    "I'm really sorry about all of this, Jim," said Ben before he left.

    "You have nothing to be sorry for," said Jim.  "All you did was try to make things right. Maggie got herself into trouble."

    "I have to go to the station," he said.  "Will you be down soon?"

    "No, I have to stay here and wait with Chris until Jeff gets here," said Jim.

    "What are you going to do about Maggie?" asked Ben.

    "I'm going to call Kendal and let her decide what to do about her mother," said Jim.  "Its been over between us for a while now. I guess both of us just refused to see that."

    "I'm sorry, Jim," said Ben.

    "Don't be," he replied.   "I'm not."

    After Ben left, Jim sat down beside me.   Neither of us said anything for a while.  I guess I was still in shock.   I realized that my father was on his way to Chicago to get me, but I don't think it really registered in my brain.  I was going home.

    "Chris, I think you should pack a bag," said Jim.

    "Yeah," I said dumbly.

    "I want you to know that I'll miss you," he said.

    I just turned toward him and hugged him.   He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight.  Then I started to cry.   I didn't know why I was crying, but I couldn't stop.  It was as if all of the events of the last two and half months had suddenly taken their toll.  I shuddered and sobbed, and Jim held me until it was over.

    I sat back as only an occasional sob wracked my body.  I felt so tired and confused.  I didn't understand why going home would affect me so badly.  I wanted to go back to Springfield.  I could think of nothing that I wanted more, so why was I so miserable?

    "You have been through a lot these past few months," said Jim.  "Don't be shocked that you reacted the way you did."

    "I just feel like I don't know what to do now," I said.  "I'm finally getting what I wanted, and I don't know what to do."

    "Chris, you will be alright," said Jim.  "I'll do everything that I can to make sure that things go smoothly for you until this is over."

    "I want to go home, but I don't want to leave you and my friends behind," I said.

    The thought of not seeing Jim every day wasn't one that I was comfortable with.  He'd become a large part of my life over the last two months, and not seeing him at all would be difficult for me.  Leaving my friends behind wasn't something that I was looking forward to, either.  I wanted to call everyone and tell them goodbye, but I didn't think I could handle it.

    "You know that I don't want you to go," he said.  "But I know that living with your father is what is best for you."

    "Will you come to see me?" I asked, looking up at him and feeling like a little kid.  I was afraid that I'd start crying again at any minute.

    "I'll talk that over with your dad," he said.  "He may not want me coming to visit."

    That thought hadn't occurred to me.  Jim was the man my mother left my father for.  Somehow, I didn't think that Jim really had anything to do with my mother leaving my father.  She would have done it with or without Jim, but I didn't think my dad would see it that way.

    Jim helped me pack a few bags of clothes.   He told me to take the lap top, but I didn't think I should.  I finally put it in its case and sat it with the packed bags when he told me that he had been the one to buy it for me, and it was mine.

    As I was taking my paintings down off the walls, the telephone started to wring.  Jim answered it and talked quietly for a few minutes.  Then he held the phone out to me, and I just stood there and stared at it.

    "It's Khayman," he said.   "I told him that you were leaving, and he wants to talk to you."

    "Hello," I said after taking the receiver.

    "When are you leaving?" asked Khayman.

    "As soon as my dad gets here," I said.

    "What happened?" he asked.

    "I can't really say right now," I replied.  "I wouldn't know where to start."

    "Do you think it would be ok if I came up for a little bit?" he asked.

    I told him that he could, and then I went back to trying to decide what to do about the rest of my stuff.  Jim told me that I could just leave it, and he would make sure that it got to me.  He said that he wouldn't let my mother take anything out of this room.

    When Khayman got there, I could barely talk to him.  Tears kept threatening to return at any moment when I talked about leaving.   I couldn't believe that something that I wanted so badly could make me so sad.   I wanted to go home, but I was sad that I was leaving.  I couldn't believe it!

    "My dad says that I can come to visit in the summer some time," said Khayman after we'd been through the "I don't want you to go" things.

    "That would be good," I said.   "I don't know if I'm going to come back to Chicago or not."

    "I hope that you come back to visit," he said.  "I know you don't want to stay with your mom, but you could come and stay with us."

    "I might do that," I said, smiling at him.  I wanted to tell him so many things, but I was still too scared to tell him how I really felt about him.  The fact was that I didn't know how I really felt about him.  All I knew was that he was the sexiest boy I'd ever seen.

    "I called Puck to tell him, but his dad wouldn't let me talk to him," he said.  "I guess Puck's in trouble again."

    Puck was always in trouble for something it seemed.  I didn't know why, though.  He never got into any trouble at school.   I didn't see him as a mouthy type, so I didn't think he would back talk his father.   I never could figure out why he was always in trouble.

    "Khayman, your dad called and said its time for you to come back home," said Jim when he came into the room.

    "Well, I guess I'll see you this summer," said Khayman with a fake smile.

    "Yeah," I replied with an equally fake smile.

    We didn't say goodbye.  I was glad, because I didn't think I could handle that.  It was hard enough just pretending that I knew that I'd see him in the summer.  Leaving friends wasn't easy for me.  I was going to miss him as much as I already missed Tommy and Alex.

    After he was gone, it was just me and Jim again.  I didn't know what time my father would arrive, and I wanted to spend as much time with Jim as I could.  I just didn't know what to say to him.  I was scared that if I opened my mouth, everything would come tumbling out of me at once, and I would either make no sense, or I would say the wrong thing.

    "Your father should be here pretty soon," he said when I came out of my bedroom.  "Are you all packed?"

    "Yeah," I said.  "All but the stuff that I can't take right now."

    "Don't worry about that stuff, Chris," he said.  "I promise, I'll make sure that it all gets to you."

    "Thank you," I said.  "I really hate leaving everyone behind."

    "You can come and visit, Chris," he said.  "Just talk it over with your father."

    "I don't know that I want to visit Chicago, Jim," I said.  "I don't think I ever want anything to do with my mother again."

    "Well, maybe you can visit Khayman or Ted," he said.  "Talk to your father about it. I'm sure he'll let you."

    "I don't know," I said.

    He got up off the couch and came over to where I was standing.  He reached out and pulled me into an embrace that all at once both made me feel better and made me feel worse.  I hugged him back and tried hard not to cry again.

    "I love you like a son, Chris," he said.

    "I love you, too," I said back.   I couldn't say that I loved him like a father.  That would have been a lie.   I did love him, though.  I just didn't know which category to place that love in.

    "Maybe you can come and visit me," he said softly.

    "I'd like that," I replied.

    After holding me like that for a few more minutes, he let go.  He went to the kitchen and made two bowls of ice cream.  We sat across from each other at the table, but we didn't say much.  I ate the ice cream even though my stomach felt like it was full of lead.

    When I heard the doorbell, my stomach lurched, and I thought I'd regurgitate the ice cream then and there.  I was suddenly so nervous that I couldn't even think.  I just stared at Jim.  He looked back at me for a minute and then got up to answer the door.

    I swear that in the time it took Jim to get to the door, a bunch of memories flooded my mind.  I remembered how sad I was when Mother told me that she was moving to Chicago.  I couldn't believe it now, but I'd actually been unhappy to see her go.

   "Come here, Christopher," she'd said.   There were tears in her eyes, and I'd had to fight to keep from crying myself.

    "I love you, Mom," I said as she pulled me into a tight embrace.

    "And I love you," she said.    "I want you to look out for your father while I'm gone, and try to remember that I will be back in two weeks."

    "Yes, ma'am," I replied.

    "I love you so much, little one," she said.  I couldn't stop the tears from falling when she used her old nickname for me.  She hadn't called me that since I was seven years old.

    "I'm going to miss you, Mom," I said, trying hard not to sob.

    "I know," she said.    "I'll miss you, too."

    "Goodnight," I whispered with a shaking voice.

    "Goodnight," she said, holding me tighter.  For a moment, I didn't think she was going to let go.  She did, though, and I stood there looking at her for a few minutes before walking out of the room to the stairs.

    If I'd only known what was coming, I would have spit in her face then and there.  I could vividly remember the conversation we'd all had when she decided to "save" me from my father.  Oh how I hated her then.

"How could you even let them go near them?" she'd yelled at my dad.

    "There was never anything to make me suspicious of Jason or Josh, damn it," replied my father.    "If anything had happened, Evan or Chris would have told me, Maggie."

    "But you let them go over there and spend the night with a pedophile," she said.  "You should have known!"

    "How was I supposed to know?" he asked.  "Tell me, am I supposed to be a damned psychic? Is that it?"

    "Don't start with me," she said.  "I'm not the one who placed my sons in the hands of a pervert."

    "Maggie . . ."

    "No," she cried.  "You of all people should have known!"

    "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked.  "Are you implying that I should have known about all of this because of my own sexuality? Is that what you are saying?"

    "Well people with the same interests usually stick together, don't they?" she spat.

    "Fuck you, Maggie," he said.  "Get the hell out of my house, and leave my sons alone."

    "Oh no you don't," she said.  "Christopher is coming with me. I can't change the damage that you've already done to Evan, but I will save Christopher."

    "You are not taking my son," he said.

    "Oh yes, I am," she said.  "And if I don't take him today, we'll just go to court and see what the judge has to say about everything that's been going on around here."

    "What has been going on around here?" he demanded.  "All the way from Chicago, tell me, what terrible things have you seen in your crystal ball, Maggie."

    "Don't patronize me," she said.  "I'm taking him, and that's all there is to it."

    "What is going on?" asked Evan as the two of us walked into the kitchen.  "Mom, what was that supposed to mean? What damage has Dad done to me?"

    "Evan, I . . ."

    "She means about your sexuality, Evan," said my father.

    "Dad didn't have anything to do with it," he said quickly.  "You've got it all wrong. I didn't even know about Dad until just a little while ago."

    "Evan, you're young," she said.  "You don't understand."

    "No, I understand," he said.  "You thought you'd use me to hurt Dad. You're also trying to use Chris to hurt him. That's what you're doing, Mom. And let me tell you, that's so grown up of you."

    "Don't talk to me like that," she snapped.

    "Why?" he asked.  "You can talk about me like I'm some sort of defective person. I'm you son, Mother. I'm the same boy that you used to hug and kiss goodnight."

    "You're not acting like that boy right now," she said.

    "Well, I'm sorry, but I tend to get upset when a member of my family becomes viscous and tries to use other members of the family to strike out at someone," he spat.

    "Christopher," she said, ignoring Evan.  "Go upstairs and pack a bag."

    "I'm not going with you," I said evenly.  I was determined not to get into a screaming match with her.

    "Yes, you are," she said.  "Now go upstairs and get a bag."

    I should have run away.  I was sure that I'd have been safer and happier if I had just packed a bag and ran off somewhere.   Sure, I wouldn't have been able to tell Dad or Evan where I was, but at least I wouldn't have been here with her.  Then Zack would never have had the chance to do what he'd done.  I could remember her reaction when I tried to tell her what he'd tried to do to me.

    "Are you quite happy?" she'd demanded when I walked in the door.

    "Why don't you just tell me what I supposedly did this time," I replied coldly.

    "Don't act cute," she said.  "Zack told me what happened."

    "Did he?" I asked.  "And what exactly did he tell you?"

    "He told me about you calling him names and throwing things at him," she spat.  "You just wouldn't quit until he hit you, would you?"

    "Oh this is just great!" I screamed at her.    "Zack tried to force his dick in my throat. Did he tell you that?"

    "Don't you dare . . ."

    "I dare," I replied.  "Your perfect nephew tried to make me suck his dick. He shoved it in my mouth, and I threw up all over him. I don't expect you to believe me. I don't expect you to even care. Just know that the one thing you supposedly tried to save me from happened in your apartment. Ironic, isn't it?"

    "You lying little shit!" she cried.   The slap across my face stunned me.  I couldn't believe that she'd slapped me.

    "I hate you so much, MOTHER," I said.    "You don't care about me at all. All you care about is yourself and your precious nephew. SEND ME HOME!"

    "Go to your room," she said.

    "I can't walk that far," I replied.    "Springfield is a long way."

    "I'm not going to put up with this attitude from you much longer," she said.

    "Go to hell, Mom," I said, walking away from her.

    I don't know why I'd expected her to believe me when Ken had tried to do the same thing.  I couldn't believe how gullible I'd been, trying to tell her my side of the story.  I should have known full well that she'd believe that I'd hurt him on purpose.  Her words came back to me.

    "What the hell were you thinking?" she'd yelled at me as soon as we had pulled away from the station.

    "Mom, I didn't try to hurt him," I said.  "He tried to make me suck his dick, and I pushed him away. It happened a lot like it did with Zack. When I pushed him he fell."

    "Come on, Christopher," she said.  Disbelief was clear in her tone.  "Are you going to accuse every boy of trying to rape you? Stop it."

    "Stop the car and let me out if you don't believe me," I said.  "You didn't believe me about Zack, and I was telling the truth. I don't expect you to believe me now, and again, I'm telling the truth."

    "You are going to be grounded to your room," she said.  "No phone calls, no computer, no anything."

   I couldn't believe that I was sad to leave.  Suddenly, leaving felt like the most wonderful thing in the world.  I couldn't wait to get into my dad's car and leave Chicago behind.  At that moment, I never wanted to come back.  I just wanted to leave.