Life on the Farm
Written By: Justin Case
Edited By: Sarah
Disclaimer: The chapter you are about to read is fiction. It was created in the mind of the author, and any similarities to real life are purely coincidental. This material contains sexually graphic language and is intended for adults. The story is about young gay love. If this type of subject matter offends you, you are invited to stop viewing it now. The writer, his editor, and publisher accept no responsibility for the actions of the reader. Persons viewing this tale must do so legally; in accordance to the laws that govern them. This material is the property of the writer, and is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No copies may be reproduced in any fashion without the permission of the publisher.ã JCPCo2002
"He lost a lot of blood, we had to repair a severed artery in his stomach. The horn ripped through his spleen, and we had to remove that. He was so swollen after the surgery we couldn't close him up. We'll watch him closely now for infection, and fight that with heavy doses of antibiotics intravenously. We also need to watch him for pneumonia; the ventilator often causes that. Right now his chances aren't very good, his heart stopped, we were able to get it going again, and the machines are keeping him alive." Doctor Anderson explained to Mary, his voice steady with little emotion.
The short woman, with black hair listened intently as the man in the aqua green, surgery scrubs, told her about her only son's condition. Her dark eyes filled with tears, puffy and reddened, seemingly stared off into space. The robust woman's body was obviously shaking, her hands clenching each other, jittery, and unable to let go of one another.
Mary had always been a good mother, gone to church, raised her son Randy with the values and morals of her faith. `Why God, why?' She wondered silently to herself. `Take me, take me. I've lived my life; it's been full. Don't take my Randy.' Her motherly instincts continued to pummel in her mind. She saw Jim standing with another boy she recognized, her tears continued to stream down her cheeks.
"Oh Jim, my little Jimmy," she wailed, as she saw Randy's best friend, and a boy she had become so fond of over the last few years.
Mary quickly took Jim into her arms, and practically smothered the other boy she loved like a son, in her bosoms. She clung onto him with all her strength, and hugged him dearly. It was as if she couldn't let him go for fear she'd loose him too. Tears fell off her face onto Jim's as she continued to hold him in her arms.
"I'm so sorry." Jim cried, into her breasts.
Little Joey sat silently in his wheel chair. His own eyes began to fill with tears, he had been in the hospital long enough to suspect that Randy probably wouldn't make it through the night. Joey had been aware of the four people that died just the day before. The boy had heard the alarms, the pages over the speakers, and watched, as the gurneys were wheeled by his room. He had seen them as they were whisked down the hall. He had seen the white sheets pulled over the heads of the bodies that lie beneath. The scenes had become all too familiar for such a young lad.
Finally, Mary released Jim, her voice unsteady, and quavering with her sobs, she said, "Oh Jim, it's not your fault."
"It is, it is all my fault. I should have stayed with him. I shouldn't have walked ahead of him." Jim cried harder, his own body heaving against hers, with his sobs.
Joey wheeled his chair to his good friend; he reached one of his hands to Jim's, and took it into his own. He held it tightly, his own tears streaming down his cheeks. Flashes of the three boys bounced threw his mind, as he held onto Jim's hand, and feared Randy's death. Visions of the first time Jim had come to his rescue from Tom's constant taunts and teases, played in his thoughts. He thought about Randy's cute smile, and dark eyes, almost seeming to see into his soul whenever the two looked at one another. Joey had always known how much he loved Jim and Randy, but especially Randy. An attraction he never spoke of, just like the other boys, his secret was kept deep inside his mind.
"I.C.U, code blue, I.C.U." The speakers rattled overhead.
Again, doctors and nurses quickly descended on Randy's room. The high shrill of the heart monitor rang in all their ears as the three watched helplessly. All three were sobbing uncontrollably. Joey squeezed Jim's hand, Mary, put her arm around Jim's torso as they waited.
"Please God, let him be alright. I'm sorry God." Jim bellowed, his body heaving with his sobs.
An eternity seemed to pass. Suddenly, Doctor Anderson was with them. It was as he came out of nowhere, his face held a certain seriousness. He gently escorted Mary away from the boys.
Fear now gripped at Joey, this too was another scene he had witnessed too many times the past week. He climbed out of his wheel chair and took Jim in his arms, he held his friend tightly as he bawled.
"Oh God, no. No," Joey cried.
Jim held onto Joey's quivering body. He strained to hear what Doctor Anderson was telling Mary, but couldn't make it out. No matter how hard he tried, Joey's sobs were all he could hear. His body felt drained, his knees weakened, he held onto Joey to keep his body from falling. Jim hugged his little friend, he felt the warmth of Joey's body against his own, and it comforted him.
Randy's mother approached the two boys; tears continued flowing down her face.
"His heart stopped again. They were able to get it going," she explained what Doctor Anderson had told her. "He also said you two could stay, but he thinks you should wait in the family waiting room. I'll come get you if there's any change," Mary continued as she nodded her head in the direction of the special family waiting room.
Joey nodded back, with an understanding acceptance, and sat back in his wheel chair. He briskly led Jim to the family waiting room. Jim followed behind in a zombie like state, as he held onto one of the handles to the wheelchair.
"We can wait here Jim, it's quiet, and I'll be here with you," Joey's voice broke the silence of Jim's mind.
"Oh Joey, what am I going to do? It's all my fault, I know it is, I just know it," Jim confessed his guilt once again.
"No, Jim, it isn't. Stop thinking like that. It was an accident, a horrible accident, but it wasn't your fault," Joey insisted.
"It was, it was. Randy had been upset, I don't know why. I think I may have teased him about Monica. Oh God, Joey, it was my fault, I was so insensitive."
"Jim, stop. Stop it now, it wasn't your fault."
"Joey, he's my best friend, and I've been ignoring him. I've been all caught up in myself, and Steve. It is my fault; I should have been there," Jim continued to sob.
`Steve?' Joey wondered to himself, what did Steve have to do with it. Joey never liked Steve, and couldn't for the life of himself figure out what Jim was talking about. He decided to find out.
"Steve?" He asked Jim out loud, his face contorted, his eyes filled with question.
Jim said nothing, he continued to cry, as he sat in one of the chairs and just stared off into space. Guilt laid thoughts filled his head as he pictured his recent sexual activities with Steve. Fears that he had crossed a line with Randy tormented him. `Why, why, why? I shouldn't have teased at him about Monica. I shouldn't have. I should have been there for him,' he kept telling himself.
The two boys sat in the waiting room for hours, neither said a word to the other. Jim had forgotten all about the farm. His mind was somewhere far away. Joey continued to think about Randy, and how much he loved him.
Tom raced his car from Bob's Motel towards the hospital as soon as he had finished installing the new window. Air blasted into the open window of the GTO as he pushed the accelerator further towards the floor. Sounds of Jim Croce's `Time in a Bottle,' filled the finely tuned automobile, and rose above the rushing wind, as Tom listened to his newest 8 track. `...If I had a box just for wishes, and dreams that it never come true, the box would be empty except for the memory of how they were answered by you. But there never seems to be enough time to do the things we want to do once we find them. I've looked around enough to know that you're the one I want to go through time with..." Photographs and memories filled Tom's mind, snapshots of all the good times he and Sherry had shared over the past few years.
He sped his car towards Massena General, as his mind drifted, and wonderment of what would happen with him and Sherry tugged at him. It was only a year before he'd be off in college, and away from the girl he loved. Lately he had agonized over his life, and what was to become of it. It was constant uncertainty of his future that clung to him, and what he held deeply into himself. Tom was soft on the inside, but never let on, he always felt letting others know him would certainly be like something only girls did. His own father had always been tough on him, and Tom didn't want to disappoint him. He didn't tell his dad about the accident, and desperately hoped Bob wouldn't. It was a beating he hoped he'd never get, the one his dad would surely give him if he ever found out.
Tom's father was a stern and strict man, perhaps a little too strict, a quick beating with his belt was often his first remedy to keep his children in line. The line he controlled, a line others would see as askew. Most of the time a severe beating seemed to be his only solution to keeping his children in line. His own father had abused him, and never raised him with tender love; hence he never showed it to his own children. He didn't know how.
The only person Tom had ever confessed his love to was Sherry, and she was the only person that had ever uttered the same words to him. As he drove to the hospital he knew he loved Randy, as a friend, but he knew he could never say the words out loud.
He parked his car, and quickly walked into the hospital, he saw Steve sitting alone in the lobby. He wondered where Jim was as he walked towards Steve. Steve looked up and noticed him, and a slight smile crossed his lips.
"Hey Tom, how's it hanging?"
"Not bad. Where is Jim?"
"I don't know, I've been sitting here for hours wondering the same thing. You wanna take a ride and smoke a joint? I got some killer pot." Steve was obviously upset.
"Did you see Randy, how is he?" Tom asked as he sat down.
"I haven't seen anyone I knew since I got here and Jim left me."
"Hmm. I see, well ok let's go blow a joint and come back and see what's what." Tom stood up and began walking towards the door Steve followed closely behind.
The two quickly got into the souped up GTO and headed on down the road. Steve rolled a joint and sparked it up, took a huge hit and passed it to Tom. Not a care in the world, the future didn't matter, Randy didn't matter, because right then, only the joint and the feeling of being high were all that did.
Joey finally had to break the deafening silence. He looked up from the magazine he had been reading, noticed Jim was still staring out the window, but decided he couldn't wait another minute to find out about Steve and what he had to do with Randy's accident.
"Jim, can I ask you something?"
Startled, Jim looked at Joey and nodded.
"What in the world does Steve have to do with any of this?"
As Jim had been sitting silently for the past few hours, his mind was in overdrive, churning around all his thoughts. Memories of his mother and father had flooded his head. Guilt over his relationship with Steve assaulted him. No matter what he had thought about, he kept coming back to one theme. He kept coming back to one theory; he would find no peace until he was able to find himself, accept himself, and share himself. As he heard the words fall from Joey's mouth he knew it was time, time to face himself, and tell his closest friends who he was.
"Joey, what I'm about to tell you, you have to swear to keep to yourself," he looked at Joey closely for acknowledgment.
"Jim, you can tell me anything, I'll never tell anyone."
"You have to swear."
Just as Joey said it, the door to the room opened, it was Mary; she slowly walked in and sat down beside the two boys.
"He's still not conscious, but they assure me he's comfortable and stable," she said assuredly to them.
"That's good news." Joey said convincingly.
"Well I appreciate you boys staying here. Jim have you called your family?"
"No ma'am I haven't. I'll do that now, thanks." He slowly left the waiting room in search of a pay phone, and suddenly remembered Steve. `Oh my God, I left him sitting in the lobby,' he thought to himself as he headed towards it.
When Jim got into the lobby, Steve and Tom were just walking back in from outside. He saw the two boys, and made a faint effort to smile.
"There you are, I had given you up for dead." Steve quickly greeted Jim with; it was quite apparent he was high as a kite.
"Jim-bo, my bimbo." Tom did his best to sound friendly, but his stoned condition just pissed Jim off.
"You guys are something else. Randy is laying in a bed, practically dead, his heart has stopped twice and you're out getting fucking high."
"Gee, Jim, it's not like we knew. You left me here hours ago," Steve defended his actions.
"What you couldn't ask where I was?" Jim continued his ranting. "Are you that fucking self-centered?"
"Hey you know what? Fuck you and your boy, you fucking faggot. Let's get out of here Tom, fuck this bitch." Steve shouted, and walked out the door.
"Hey Jim, back off man. You were pretty rough on him," Tom said, as he tried to calm Jim.
"You know what Tom, I don't give a rats ass. Randy is my best friend, and I thought a good friend of yours too."
"He is, you know that. I'm here for you man, and I'm here for him."
"Yeah, well maybe you should just go take Steve home. I'll catch you another time." Jim said, as he brushed past Tom and got into a phone booth. He slammed the door to the booth for more effect, he was madder than he had ever been.
"Hello," he heard Carol's voice.
"Hey, it's me, I'm at the hospital. Randy's still unconscious; his heart has stopped twice. Do you and Matt mind if I stay here through the night with his mom?"
"Not at all, Jim. Matt has already gotten a hold of his brother, and cousin; they both are going to help out here at the farm until things are back to normal. Do you need me to come?"
"No, thanks though. Carol, did you know my mom really good?"
It was the first time Jim had mentioned his mother to Carol in the three years he'd been in her care, she knew he was upset. In a way she was happy, maybe finally he'd be able to put his past behind him. She had always worried Jim had never grieved, this could be what he needed.
"Of course Jim, she was my sister."
"I just don't know if I ever really got to know her, Carol. I don't even feel like I know my mother, or what she would think of me."
"Jim your mother loved you. You were her beginning and end. She'd be so very proud of you right now. When you get through all this we'll sit down and have a long talk about your mom, I promise Jim."
"Really, you think?"
"Jim, I know."
"Thanks Aunt Carol. I love you."
"I love you too Jim."
"Thank Uncle Matt too."
"I will, now you go take care of Randy's mom."
His mood had been lifted. Jim walked back to the family waiting room. He opened the door and saw Joey's eyes looking in his direction, he smiled and sat down next to him. Content, he said nothing, and neither did Joey. He noticed Mary wasn't in the room and surmised she'd gone back to Randy's bedside.
As much as Joey wanted to know what Jim had begun to tell him earlier, he could see Jim was relieved by whatever was troubling him. He decided not to pursue the conversation, there would always be another time. He was happy to have Jim by his side, and that was all he cared about for the moment. He knew when the time was right for Jim, he'd hear whatever it was Jim felt he had to tell him. His mind drifted to Randy.
Within an hour both boys had fallen asleep. Not a deep sleep, more like a doze, and they both woke often hoping for a word on Randy, hoping for the best.
Mary sat at her son's bedside, the bleeps on the heart monitor, and pumping of the respirator, were the only sounds she heard. She never closed her eyes; she kept them peeled on her baby, watching for any sign, hoping for him to open his own eyes. She sat with him and held one of his hands in her own.
"Randy, Randy," he heard Jim's voice. Those fucking lights again, they blinded him, he couldn't see Jim, but he could hear his voice. "I'm here, Jim, I'm here," he heard his own voice say. "Where Randy, where are you? I can't see you," Jim's voice rang out. "I'm here Jim, I'm right here," Randy heard his voice again, but the lights continued to blind him. Randy suddenly realized he was dreaming and tried to wake.
To be continued:
Thanks so much for waiting patiently for this latest installment of Life on the Farm. I know it's been a while, and for that I am sorry. If you liked what you just read, drop me an e-mail, my addy is Justin69SK@aol.com If you'd rather chat with me, check me out in the newest chat room located on Nifty, Nifty Writers. Here's a link if you'd like to check it out www.nevernet.net/nifty/nifty-w.htm