Date: Wed, 4 May 2005 03:13:12 -0700 (PDT)
From: CloseTheCellarDoor <closethecellardoor@yahoo.com>
Subject: Evil is a Man: The Angel Stretched Out His Hand -- chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE

First of all, sorry for neglecting my readers for so long, I deserve to be
punished -- gagged, tied to a bed, and gangbanged, perhaps.  Secondly, I
know that this story so far might seem directionless or too narrowly
focused on the narrator's world.  I promise you, by Chapter 5 I'll be back
in familiar Evil territory.

Have fun!



CHAPTER THREE

"I swear, Sam.  I'm turning over a whole new fucking leaf."

Sam looked at me sideways with obvious doubt before he looked back towards
the road, flexing his knuckles against the steering wheel of the car.

"From now on, I'll be a fucking saint.  You think I can't do it, but you'll
see.  I'll blow your fucking mind, man."

"You want me to start calling you St. Bradley?" asked Sam a little smugly.
"You can start by apologizing to me, how bout that?"

"Apologize for what?  I never did nothing to you."

"You acted like a total asshole to me on more than one occasion," he said.

"Yeah, but you always deserved it."

He chuckled good-naturedly.  "You hit me, remember that?  Physical abuse."

"You didn't even flinch and I almost broke my fucking hand!  I should be
accusing you of abuse!"

"You stole hundreds of dollars from my wallet, which you used to buy
drugs."

"Alright," I said.  "You got me there.  I'll admit it, I was in the wrong.
I'm sorry, okay?  I'm sorry."  I smiled to myself.  "See?  I'm not so
pig-headed that I can't apologize when I've done someone wrong.
St. Bradley has arrived."

"I give St. Bradley a life expectancy of 24 hours."

"You'll eat your words, my friend," I said.

"I hope so."

*****

"St. Bradley, wake up."

I stirred, groaning, rolling around in the passenger seat.  The car was
stopped but the engine was still on.  I opened my eyes--the sky was
lightening... dawn was coming.

"How far are we?" I asked sleepily.

"A little past Phoenix," Sam replied, yawning.  "We're stopping here for
the night."

I shook myself awake.  We were parked in front of a shabby motel in the
middle of the desert.  A neon red "vacancy" sign glowed in the pale light
of morning.

"No need to stop," I said, straightening up.  "If you're tired, I'll drive
the rest of the way."  I mentally patted myself on the back for being such
a nice road trip companion.

"No," he said, with a touch of anxiety that I had never heard in his voice
before.  "We need to stop now."

"Ah, come on, man," I said.  "I don't want to stay at this shitty motel if
we don't need to.  We both know you got money--let's drive until we find
something decent."

"This is the only place around."

"But--"

"Don't argue with me, Bradley, we're stopping here and that's it!"  He
pulled out his wallet and handed me a few twenties.  "I need you to get a
room for us."

"Why don't you do it your damn self?"

"Stop being so stubborn and just do it, okay?  Do something considerate for
once."

"Fine," I said.  "You're damn lucky you're dealing with the new Bradley,
cause the old Bradley would have just told you to go fuck yourself."  I
snatched away the money from his hand and started to get out of the car.
"After all, I was the one who was sleeping," I mumbled angrily as I went.

"Brad, please, be quick about it."

I shot him an angry look.  I was already doing him a goddamn favor.

"I'm not kidding around!" he yelled.

"Lazy ass angel," I muttered to myself as I went into the motel office.

A short bald man with a thick moustache and a face full of acne scars
checked me in.  From the empty parking lot, it seemed like he didn't get
many costumers.  You would think he would have been happy to see me, but he
treated me like I was rudely disturbing the serenity of his filthy,
closet-sized office.  I wondered what kind of miserable fucking mistakes
someone had to make in life to end up working nights in a shitty motel in
the middle of nowhere.  I reminded myself that this guy deserved my pity,
not my hostility.

"You're late," he barked at me.  "It's already morning."

Easier said than done.

"Been driving all night," I said.

He squinted at me.  "You a trucker?  Sure don't look like one."

"No, just a traveler.  Could I please just get a room, man?"

"You want one or two beds in your room?" he asked.

I considered for a moment.  "One," I answered.  "Make it a smoking room."

"All we got is smoking."  I paid, he handed me my key, and then he added as
I was heading out the door, "shake the sheets out and check your shoes when
you get up.  We got big, fat scorps round here."

"Great fucking advice, man," I said on my way out.

Sam was outside of the car when I returned, carrying both his bag and my
own and looking towards the horizon.  "Better be careful, they got big, fat
scorps round here," I told him.

"What room are we?" he asked.

"Number six."

He quickly trotted over to our door while I moseyed along at a leisurely
pace, twirling the key in my hand.

"Get your ass over here, Bradley.  I'm not joking around."

He looked more anxious than ever.  I couldn't figure out what the hell was
bugging him.  "Alright, I'm here, don't get your panties in a knot."  I
unlocked and opened the door.  The room looked like it still had the same
furniture and bedding that it had in the seventies.  The walls were bare
and cracked, and the carpet was stained with dirt and ashes.  "Nice choice,
Sam," I said.

Sam pushed me inside and shut and locked the door behind us.  He went
straight for the window and shut the plastic window screen.  Seeing him
nervous like this was making me worried.

"Okay, Sam," I said.  "What the fuck's going on?  Who's out there? Not
another werewolf?"

He was digging eagerly into his bag.  "Nobody's out there.  We're safe
here."  He pulled out a roll of duct tape, went back over to the window,
and started to tape the edges of the window screen to the frame of the
window.

"You really don't want people peeking in at us, do you?" I asked, figuring
the man must value his privacy.

He didn't answer me, he just finished taping the screen until there wasn't
the tiniest bit of light coming through the window.  When he was done with
that, he took a deep breath and relaxed his body.  He set the tape down and
turned around to face me.  "Brad, I've never really had to trust you until
now.  I've never been in a position where you could possibly do me any
harm.  But now, I'm going to let you in on a piece of information that you
could easily use to kill me. You have to swear to me that I can trust you."

I was a bit floored.  It was the first time I had ever been in a position
of power over Sam.  "Yeah, dude, you can trust me."

His eyes bored heavily into mine--I knew he was looking past my words for
some sort of validation in my thoughts.  "I recall you telling me before
that if I didn't leave you alone, you would find a way to get rid of me."

"I'm not the same guy I was when I said that, Sam," I said.  "I don't want
to get rid of you anymore."

His blue eyes opened wider.  "Promise me, no matter how angry or annoyed
you get with me, that you'll never use this information against me."

"I promise.  Just fucking tell me already."

He reached into his bag and pulled out the same sword that he had been
holding the night the wolf tried to kill me, and walked over to the window.
Very carefully, he poked the tiniest hole into the screen and set down his
sword.

A beam of sunlight shot across the room, illuminating the thick dust that
was floating through the dirty air, causing me to wonder when the last time
this room had been vacuumed.  Obviously sunrise had past.

Sam moved his hand up to the screen.  "Watch carefully," he said.  He took
a deep breath through his nose, then moved his hand into the beam of light,
blocking it with his palm.

He groaned painfully, but held his hand in place.  I couldn't see what was
happening at first, but then I saw smoke rise up from his hand.

"What's happening?  What's it doing to you, man?"

He shut his eyes and turned his head away, obviously in extreme pain.

I looked towards the back of his hand--a circle of black began to form,
then the black skin disintegrated, exposing burnt flesh underneath.

The beam of light came through his hand and landed right on my chest.
Instinctively, I jumped out of the way from the thing that had just burned
a hole through my friend.

"Holy shit, that light just burned a fucking hole through your hand!"

He pulled his injured hand away, picked up the roll of tape, and quickly
taped up the hole.  "Now you know," he said quietly.

I went over to him, grabbed his hand, and looked at his palm.  It looked
like someone had nailed a red-hot nail through his hand.  "Motherfucker," I
exclaimed with awe.  "Should we take you to the hospital or something,
dude?"

He laughed.  "No, this will heal on it's own in a few minutes," he said.
"And if I tried to leave this motel room at this time, I'd turn into a pile
of ashes and bones before I even got to the car."

"Ah, I see.  That's why you always sleep all day," I said, finally making
the connection.  "That's why your apartment is underground.  No windows."

He nodded and laughed.  "You don't know how hard it is to find subterranean
apartments these days."  He fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit
it.

"But, why?  Why does the light burn you?"

He took a deep drag.  "God's punishment, his curse, his vengeful wrath.
Banished from heaven, sent to purgatory and Earth, and worst of all,
forever separated from the light, so we must become creatures of shadow and
darkness.  The bright light of the sun, which most closely resembles the
brightness and the purity of His Divine Light in Heaven, that which every
living thing thrives under, that is the same light that destroys us now.  I
haven't felt the gentle warmth of sunlight on my skin in almost a hundred
years, and I never will again, until God forgives us all."

I shook my head, still gaping at the huge fucking hole in his hand.  "Shit,
man.  That is one wicked bad sunburn.  God must be one sick motherfucker.."

His brow lowered and his voice turned stern.  "Don't say things like that.
Yes, His punishment is severe.  But we angels are completely deserving of
it."  He exhaled his last billow of smoke through his nostrils and
extinguished his cigarette.  "The day makes me sleepy," he said.  "Let's
get some rest."

*****

I woke up a little after four.  Still a couple hours before sunset, when I
knew Sam would wake-up.  I unsuccessfully tried to fall back asleep, then I
gave up and just enjoyed being in Sam's arms, letting my thoughts drift
through waking dreams as my body enjoyed that calm comfort.  Like always, I
thought I could just lie like this forever.

But, like always, something roused me from Sam's body.  This time it was my
aching bladder.  It was a little before six when I got up, trotting into
the bathroom in just my boxers, and relieved myself.

I was too awake and energetic then to return to bed.  I thought about going
to get something to eat, but figured it would take a bit of driving to find
a restaurant around here, and it wouldn't be long before Sam woke up
anyway.

I looked around for something to occupy my attention.  I noticed the tip of
Sam's sheathed sword poking out of his bag.  Both times I had seen the
instrument I had been in awe... I wanted another look now.

I pulled the sword from his bag and took the sheath off.  It was
beautifully crafted and quite heavy, glistening and shiny.  The hilt was
engraved with pictures of angels.  If I had to guess, I would have said it
was hundreds of years old.

I slipped it back into its sheath and carefully slid it back into his bag.
As I did so, my hand caught something else--at first I thought it was a key
chain.  I pulled it out and took a look.

It was a small looped gold chain, like a bracelet, perhaps, but too small
to fit on any adult's wrist.  Strung along the chain were different
ornamental crosses, all different sizes and styles.  Most were metallic.  I
counted six of them.

I jiggled the crosses in my hand, trying to imagine what on earth this
little trinket was for.

I jumped as a hand grabbed my wrist and held my arm in place forcefully.  I
hadn't heard Sam get up out of bed, and now his normally calm face was
stern and angry.

"This is mine," he said simply, and took the thing from my hand.  I could
tell he was pissed.

"I'm sorry," I said defensively, not really that sorry at all.  "I didn't
think it was any big deal."

He carefully put the trinket back into his bag.  "You shouldn't go through
other people's belongings," he said.  "Have some respect."

I was a little stunned--he had never been angry with me before.
Reprimanding, yes, but always in a patient, paternal sort of way.  This was
the first time that I saw him really lose his temper--and although his
emotions were clearly under control, it was proof to me that he was human
every once in a while.

He pulled his pants on, looking at me quizzically and sighing.  "I'm not
angry with you," he said.  "Let's just forget about it and go on with the
day."

I was happy to drop it.  I was trying to be good, and I didn't need to get
drawn into an argument.  I looked towards the covered window.  "Maybe it's
sunset?"

"Not yet," he said.

"How do you know?"

"I just do.  Another twenty, twenty-five minutes."  He dropped to his knees
on the floor and closed his eyes, his back erect and his hands on his open
thighs.

"Oh no," I said.  "Am I just gonna have to sit here and watch you pray?"

"Why don't you join me?"

"I've never, ever prayed before."

"Even more of a reason to start," he said.  "Everybody has a relationship
with God, Brad.  It's up to you whether you want the relationship to be one
of understanding and communication or not."

I sighed.  "Fine, I'll do it.  Since I'm trying to be saintly and all, I
guess praying is a must.  But do I have to sit like that?" I asked.

"You can pray in any position you like.  Hanging from your ankles if you
prefer, whatever."

But I sat down beside Sam and copied his position anyway.  I shut my eyes.
Now what?

"Open a line of dialogue with Him," Sam replied "Talk to him.  Let yourself
listen."

I felt very silly, but I did as Sam suggested.

Hey, God.  What's going down, man?

I stopped and listened for some sort of response.  I half expected to hear
a booming "Wassup, dude," in my ears.  But as far as I could tell, I heard
nothing.

Fine, don't answer me.  It's not like I really expect you to.  I gotta say,
you're one twisted little fuck sometimes.  You fucked me over royally in my
childhood.  Yeah, I know Sam would probably feed me some bullshit about how
you were trying to teach me a lesson, or tell me what doesn't kill you
makes you stronger.  Whatever, I bet you enjoyed seeing me suffer.

And now I'm gonna go meet some of my cousins.  You'd better not fuck that
up too, or else I may never forgive you.

"Don't threaten God," Sam chided.

I opened my eyes and looked over at him.  "Why don't you stay out of my
head and mind your own fucking prayers?"

"I tried, but you're distracting me."

"Well, deal with it, dude," I said.  "You have your conversation with God
your way, and I'll do it mine."

You'd better not still be listening in on me, Sam.  A man's private
dialogue with God is his own fucking business.

I opened my eyes again and looked over at Sam.  No indication that he was
listening.

Okay, God, I guess I do got one thing that I'm damn thankful for.  I don't
know if you really had anything to do with this or if it was all a bunch of
random luck, but if you are responsible, then thank you for sending Sam my
way.  I don't know where I'd be right now without him.  On the streets,
maybe.  Dead in the ground, even more likely.  So thanks for that.

I felt an arm around my back.  Sam was hugging me spontaneously.  "That was
real touching, Brad," he said.

I pushed his arm away.  "You fucking prick, that was supposed to be
private.  To think you yelled at me for going through your stuff when you
go through my fucking mind at the drop of a goddamn hat."

He laughed, and got up off the ground.  "I'm sorry, I just couldn't help
myself.  Come on, get dressed.  This is an important day for you."

*****

We pulled off the freeway in Tucson an hour or so later.  Sam seemed to
know where he was going.

"Do they even know I'm coming?" I asked, starting to get anxious.  "What,
am I just supposed to show up and say, `hey, what's up?  I'm your long lost
cousin.  Trust me.'"

"Don't worry, everything's taken care of.  I've already called Monique and
told her everything."

"Who the fuck is Monique?"

"Your aunt in-law."

"Great," I said.  "I got a blowjob in a department store fitting room from
a girl named Monique."

"I doubt if this is the same Monique."

"So you talked to her and she was just totally cool?  She accepted that I
was her relative?"

"She did when I told her who your mother was."

"And I suppose you told her you were my guardian angel and all?"

"I told her that I was your private investigator.  Here it is, 14993."

Sam pulled up in front of very large, pueblo-inspired house with an
incredible view of the night city and a huge, grass-less, rock yard.

"Shit, they must be loaded," I said, gaping up at what looked to me like a
suburban mansion.  "Who would have guessed I came from money?"

The lights were on and the house looked warm and inviting.  I got out of
the car.

Sam got out behind me and put his hand on my shoulder.  "Remember, this is
your only family.  They're good people.  Don't fuck it up."

"How exactly do you think I'm going to fuck it up?"

"Hmm, let's think about your track record here.  You lie, you manipulate,
you steal... you behave recklessly without a care for others.  Any of that
sound familiar?"

"That was the old Brad Wheeler.  I'm telling you, Sam, I'm a new man.  A
good guy.  I'm practically a fucking angel like you.  You don't think I
know what it means to have family?"

"Alright.  Let's go then."

I started to feel nervous as we walked through the rocky front yard towards
the house.

"You ready?" Sam asked me when we standing in front of their door.

"Yeah," I said, taking a deep breath.

Sam rang the doorbell.

"I'll get it!" I heard a child's voice yell excitedly.

A moment later the front door opened, and a gawky, tall, skinny girl of
about ten stuck her head out inquisitively.  She looked up at Sam, both
intrigued and a little guarded.  "You Brad?" she asked.

I raised my hand.  "I'm Brad," I said.

"Oh," she said, obviously a little disappointed.  "Hold on."

She slammed the door shut and her footsteps went charging off into the
house.

"Who was that?" I asked Sam, completely confused.

"Your cousin!"

"But she's black!"

"Half black, yes," he said.  "Monique is black."

"You never told me that my family was black!"

"Is there something wrong with that?"

I turned my head away.  Yes, there's something wrong with that.  It means
my only family doesn't look anything like me.  "No, I guess not," I told
Sam, remembering my promise to be good.  "Just a little surprising, that's
all."

The door opened, and this time the little girl was joined by an older
woman.  She had dark skin, was sort of fat, wore glasses and a hairstyle
that was long out of date, and had an atrocious home-knit green sweater on.
She looked like a fucking dork.  But with her arm around her daughter, and
the bright smile on her face, she seemed warm and motherly and sweet...
traits that my own mother sure as hell never had.

"Hi there, come in," she said.  "I'm Monique, and this is my
eleven-year-old, Zandra."

She looked back and forth between us.  "Okay, which one of you two handsome
fellows is my nephew?"

I raised my hand sheepishly.

"Oh, lord, I should have known," she said, walking towards me.  "Look at
you.  You look just like your daddy.  Don't be shy, kiddo!  We're all
family here!  Come and give me a hug!"

I didn't really have to move at all, as she quickly moved in to hug me.  I
smiled politely and patted her on the back, thinking about how
uncomfortable I was with new people and physical affection until she
finally let me go.

She turned to Sam.  "And that makes you the PI I talked to on the phone.
Mister...?"

"Just call me Sam," he said, offering his hand with a big, winning smile.

She shook it, seemingly unable to take her eyes off of him.  "Sam it is.
You don't know how grateful I am for what you've done."

"Just doing my job, Ma'am."

"Monique, please." She was still smiling at him.  Yeah, he was one damn
good-looking dude, but this was supposed to be about me, lady!  Finally,
she turned away from Sam back towards the stairs.  "Tyler, get down here
and meet your cousin!" she shouted.

Tyler appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later, an attractive but
scrawny, malnourished looking teenager with glasses.  He wore a pair of
jeans that had holes in the knees and a T-shirt that said Academic Achiever
on the front of it.  I realized very quickly that my cousin, like his
mother, was one hell of a dork.

"This is Tyler," said Monique as the kid came down the stairs.  "Tyler,
meet your cousin Bradley."

"Hi," he said in a disinterested tone, not even smiling at me.  Was this
fucking Screech trying to act tough for me?

I reached out my hand and shook his, squeezing extra firmly.  I wanted him
to know that I was the goddamn boss here.  "Hi there, Tyler," I said,
smiling at him.

But Tyler wouldn't even look me in the eyes.  I realized that he was
masking his insecurity with over-confidence.  I was reminded of Casey, and
I wondered how long it would take me before I could get Tyler to do
anything I said.

"How old are you, Tyler?" asked Sam, smiling disarmingly at him.

"I'll be eighteen next month," he answered, actually looking Sam in the eye
and smiling warmly.  What the fuck?  Why was this family more interested in
the man they thought was just my goddamn PI instead of me, their long-lost
cousin?

"He's a senior in high school," said Monique, seemingly jumping at the
chance to say something to Sam, of course.

"Oh, so about a year younger behind Brad," Sam said.  He seemed
particularly interested in Tyler, and I wondered why.  I realized suddenly
that I was a bit jealous.

"Tyler's applied to a number of universities," Monique bragged.  "We'll see
what he gets into come spring."

Sam smiled cheerfully at Tyler.  "Do you know what you want to study?"

"Computer Science," he answered.

"Oh?" asked Sam.  "Are you good with computers?"

"He should be," Zandra answered for him.  "He spends like every second of
his life on his computer."

"Shuttup, Zany."  Tyler snapped.  "Don't mind my sister, she has a mighty
big mouth for an eleven-year-old."

Monique patted me on the arm, rolling her eyes.  "This is how they always
are.  Always at each other's throats.  You'll get used to it."  She pulled
me into the direction of the living room.  "Come on, no point in standing
around in the entry way.  Have a seat, please."

Their home was quite spacious, with extraordinary tall ceilings.  It was
clean and decorated in a southwestern style, with bright colors of blue
matched with various earth tones.  The place looked homey and comfortable.
A large Christmas tree in the corner of room had an ample number of gifts
under it.  Yup, these people must have been loaded.

Sam and I sat in chairs while the three Ferreras lined up on the sofa.

"You have a beautiful home here, Monique," Sam said cheerfully.

She smiled sweetly back at him.  "Thank you.  I do what I can.  Lord knows
this house isn't always so clean, but I had the kids pick everything up
yesterday."  Once again, my family was talking to Sam more than they were
talking to me.

I decided it was time to take the reins of this conversation.  "So, uh,
Monique," I said.  "What do you do?  Your job, I mean."

Finally, her eyes moved from Sam to myself.  "I'm an oncologist.  Your
uncle Scott was a pediatrician.  We met in med school."

"And, uh," I began.  "What about my father?"

"Your daddy was a teacher.  High school English, eleventh grade, I believe.
From what I hear, he was quite good at what he did.  A real dynamic
teacher, really cared about those kids."

"An English teacher, huh?" I asked, feeling a sudden biting sadness that
I'd only be hearing about my father in the third person.  "I always sucked
at English."

Monique laughed.  "You must have a lot of questions, Brad.  I'll do my best
to answer them."

"Are you in high school?" Zandra cut in suddenly.  She looked up at me with
big, unyielding eyes.

"No," I said.  "I finished high school."

 "So you're in college?" she asked, a little bit rudely.  Great, one cousin
is a dork, and the other one is a little brat.

"No," I said.  "I wasn't smart enough to go to college."

"Nonsense," Monique cut in.  "Brad didn't grow up with all the privileges
you and your brother have had, Zany."

"So you work then?" asked Zandra.  "You have a job?"  It was like she could
read my mind as well as Sam could and she was searching out all my
weaknesses, just to expose them and humiliate me.

"I was in the marines for a while," I answered.  "They kicked me out."

"Why'd they do that?" She asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

Monique put her hand on Zandra's knee.  "Zany, that's enough with the
questions.  You give your cousin some peace now."

I noticed then that throughout the conversation, Tyler had been staring
dopily at Sam.  Monique looked over at her son, noticed the direction of
his gaze, and then slapped her knees loudly. "Well, I have a lasagna in the
oven," she announced.  "Give me ten minutes and I'll have dinner on the
table."  She stood up and walked towards the kitchen.

"I'll be in my room," Tyler said, breaking his visual assault of Sam and
hopping to his feet as well.  "Call me when dinner's ready."  He ran off
back upstairs and I heard a door slam from somewhere up there.  Must have
been eager to be alone again.

"I bought a bottle of wine," Monique said.  "I usually never drink the
stuff, but I figured tonight was special.  Brad, how bout you make yourself
useful and open up the bottle?"

"Sure," I said, following her into the kitchen.

"And don't think just because you're not family that you can sit around and
be lazy, Sam.  I'm gonna put you to work too."

He came into the kitchen behind her, Zandra at his heel, gazing up at him.
"I am your humble servant," he said.  "Just ask and it shall be done."

"You can set the table."

"I'll help you, Sam," said Zandra eagerly.  "You don't know where anything
is."

"Why, thank you, my dear."

Zandra led Sam out into the dining room and they went about their chore,
Sam chatting and joking with the girl, and Zandra giggling away.

"Look, hun," Monique began when I had started to open the bottle of wine.
"I know it's none of my business, but I have to ask.  What did you do to
get booted out of the marines?"

I hesitated.  The truth was awful.  It would be simple to lie to her, to
pacify her, to end the questions.

"I was into drugs," I said anyway.  Sam would never forgive me if I had
lied.

She wasn't pleased, but she didn't look too surprised either.  "What kind?"
she asked.

"PCP.  But I'm clean now."

She turned away from the stove and gave me a strong look.  "Can you swear
on that?  Because the last thing I want is for you to bring any of that
stuff into my home.  Family or not, if I find out you're using, I'll kick
you to the curb in a heartbeat."

"I swear, Monique, I'm clean.  I'm never going back to drugs."  And as
little as my word meant before, now it was the honest truth.

She smiled again.  "Well then, I'll take your word.  Sorry if I was rude
just then.  That was the protective mother in me talking.  I love those
kids more than anything."

"It's okay," I said, feeling a bit exposed and just wanting her to drop it.

She pulled the lasagna out of the oven and set it on the stove as Sam and
Zandra came back into the kitchen.

"Task completed," Sam said.  "What else can I do to help?"

"Um, nothing really," Monique said.  "The lasagna just needs to cool.
Zandra, baby, why don't you go upstairs and play with your brother."

She made a face.  "Play with what?  His computer games?  No thanks."  She
turned to Sam gleefully.  "You aren't scared of spiders, are you?" she
asked excitedly.

"No way," he said.  "Spiders are about the coolest creatures I can think
of."

"Want to see my pet tarantula?" she asked.  "He's upstairs in my room."

"Baby, why don't you go upstairs for a while and let the adults talk alone
for a bit." Monique suggested.

Zandra rolled her eyes.  "Oh god, that is the stupidest thing I've ever
heard.  Why can't you just talk in front of me?"

"Zany, just go, okay?"

"Oh, alright," she said as she stomped out of the kitchen.

Monique pulled open a kitchen drawer and removed a pack of cigarettes and a
disposable lighter.  "Either one of you mind smoke?"

"I don't mind," I said.

Sam pulled out his own pack from his pocket.  "I certainly don't mind."

She laughed.  "It's good to know that someone shares one of my vices.
Well, come outside then, I never smoke in the house."

We went into the backyard patio, and Sam and Monique quickly lit up their
respective cigarettes.

"I know I should quit," Monique said.  "You don't have to tell me how
ridiculous this habit is considering I'm an oncologist.  The kids are
always on my case for these little things."  She waved her cigarette around
in the air.  "They should be, I'm the only parent they've got."  She
pointed her cigarette in Sam's direction.  "You have anyone who loves you,
Sam?"

He shrugged.  "I'm not sure.  Perhaps."

"Anyone that depends on you?"

"Most certainly."

"Then do them a favor and quit now while you're still young."

He laughed.  "I wish it were that easy."

"How did my father die?" I cut in.

Monique blew a billow of smoke sideways.  "Car accident.  My husband was
behind the wheel.  He was backing out of his parent's house.  Must not have
been looking behind him.  A Jeep smashed into the car as soon as they
backed onto the road.  Your grandparents were in the backseat, they died
too.  A whole family dead.  One second there, and the next, gone forever."

"Tragedy should never come in such heavy doses," Sam said, and even though
I knew he was just trying to comfort the woman, it bugged me that he felt
like he had to cut in with something heavy like that.  Really, it was none
of his business.

Monique turned towards Sam, of course.  "You know, Zandra was in the car at
the time.  In the backseat between her grandparents.  Came away with just a
few cuts and scrapes.  It was no less than a miracle, and I thank the Lord
everyday for that."

"And there isn't any other family on the Ferrera side?" Sam asked.  "No
uncles or cousins?"

"Not a one," she answered.  "Luckily I have a pretty large family, so the
kids have cousins that live around here who they're close with."  She
sighed.  "Sometimes I wonder if they turned out different cause they don't
have a father.  If I was as good of a mom as I could have been.  Zandra's
doing okay.  She misbehaves a lot at school, but she's a does fine with her
schoolwork and has oodles of friends.  Tyler, I'm not so sure about."

"What's going on with Tyler?" Sam asked with real concern in his voice.

"He's always been really smart.  A precocious kid.  But he's just not
normal.  He spends all his time on his computer.  He doesn't ever try to
make real friends at school.  Instead, he has all these online friends.
All these imaginary people from across the country that he talks to for
hours on end.  I tell him that chatting online is not the same thing as
getting out there and meeting real people.  He doesn't listen."

"He's probably chatting with girls online," I said, wanting to be the one
to say something helpful for a change.  "He just needs to find a
girlfriend."

Monique rolled her eyes.  "That's the worst thing of all, Bradley.  Tyler's
gay.  Told me himself a couple years ago.  I don't know what it's like at
school for him, but judging from how unhappy he is there, I'd say it must
be pretty rough for him.  Most kids don't come out their sophomore year in
high school."

Jesus Christ, my cousin was a fag.  A fag computer-nerd.  Great.  "So does
he have a, uh, a boyfriend then?" I asked her, feeling uncomfortable even
pretending it was normal.

"I don't know, he doesn't tell me anything.  If he does, the guy's not from
his high school.  I'm worried that he's involved with some older guy he's
met online.  Tyler's a smart kid, but he's also really naïve. And he's too
cute for his own good.  I'd hate to think of some man taking advantage of
him."  She shook her head and looked off to her right.  "I don't know.
Sometimes I wonder if he turned out this way because he didn't have a
father around."

"No," Sam said reassuringly, Mr. therapist swooping in to work his magic
once again.  "He was born gay, and there was nothing you could have done
differently to change that."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said.  She looked at me questionably and
suppressed a laugh.  "I don't know if I should tell you this or not, Brad.
I don't want you to think less of your daddy, but I guess I should just be
completely honest with you, right?"

"Yeah," I said.  "You can tell me whatever, I don't care."

"Well, Marc was bisexual."  I couldn't believe it.  My own fucking dad had
sex with other dudes?  It ruined every positive picture I had of him.  I
must have made some sort of face, because Monique looked at me angrily and
raised her voice.  "Don't you dare be ashamed or embarrassed of your daddy.
He was the way he was, the way God made him.  He had people throwing
themselves at him all the time, men and women.  Your daddy was a charming
man, and gorgeous as well.  Mmm-hmm, there were times when I wondered if I
had picked the right Ferrera brother.  If he was still around, I know Tyler
would at least have some sort of mentor.  I wouldn't be so concerned."  She
smiled, quickly slipping back into the here and now.  "Anyway, don't tell
him I told you any of this.  He'd never forgive me."  She butted out her
cigarette.  "Look at me.  All gloom and doom when tonight is supposed to be
a celebration.  Come on, fellas, let's go back inside and get to some
eating."

"Oh, I can't stay," Sam said as we headed back into the house.  Of course,
Sam couldn't eat.  "I'd better shove off."

"Nonsense," said Monique.  "You'll stay and eat, and you'll enjoy it."

"I'd love to, but I have to find a hotel and settle in."

"You can stay here with us.  There's enough bedrooms here for all of us."

"Yeah, Sam," I chimed in, not wanting him to go.  "Why don't you stay here
with us?"

"No, really, I couldn't," he said.  "I just came to drop you off.  Now I
must go.  Monique, it was a pleasure meeting you and your family.  I wish
all of you the best."

"You too, Sam.  Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas."

I walked Sam out to the car, telling Monique that I needed to get my
things.

"How bout you tell me why you're really leaving?" I asked him.

"Logistics, that's all.  It's not safe for me here.  If they don't think
something's up when I cover the bedroom window and sleep all day, they will
as soon as they realize I'm not eating anything.  No, I'm better off on my
own.  Besides, I think I'm sort of stealing your thunder in there."

"I think all three of them wish you were their cousin, not me."

He laughed.  "I think all of them have a bit of a crush on me.  It's very
endearing."

"You seemed to be into Tyler," I said.  "Couldn't take your eyes off him
when he was in the room."

"You make me sound devious.  I wasn't checking out the boy, I was
interested in him because he is your only surviving male cousin on your
father's side."

"So what?"

"That means that he shares the Eversor gene with you.  If you were to die,
he would probably be the next Eversor."

"Oh," I said, rolling my eyes.  "I'd give him that position now if I
could."

"Well, if I have my way, you'll be alive for a long time, Brad.  Tyler will
probably never have his gene activate.  There's no need to tell him any of
this.  It's best that he doesn't know."

"What, do you think I'm just gonna tell him that I'm a mutant and you're an
angel and werewolves are after us?  I'd be committed before I even got
through explaining all of it."  I pulled my bag out of his car.  "Where
will you go, then?  Back to LA?"

"No," he said, shaking his head.  "It's my duty to stay close to you.  I'll
find a place to crash during the day and I'll explore the city at night."

"Will you come and see me?"

"No," he said.  "You need to do this on your own.  Stay with them for as
long as you need to, and I'll be waiting.  When you're ready, I'll know."
He started to get into the car.

"Sam, wait!" I ordered.  He paused and turned to face me.  I wanted to say
something, but my mouth just hung open like an idiot.

"Yes?" he asked.

I forced myself to speak.  "What if I go back into withdrawal?  What if I
need you?"

He smiled sympathetically.  "You haven't had withdrawal symptoms for days.
You'll be fine."

"Look, Sam.  I just don't know... I don't know if..." But I couldn't say it.
I couldn't tell him that I worried, now that he had been with me for so
long, holding me and comforting me whenever I needed it, that I wouldn't be
able to handle his separation from me.  My heart started to race--I was
already dreading his departure.

I told none of those feelings to Sam, but he must have known them
nonetheless, because he peered at me with those blue eyes that were much
too wise for a man who looked to be in his thirties, and smiled his
beautiful, disarming smile.  "You like everyone to think you're a hard-ass,
Bradley Wheeler, but inside you're all mushy and soft."

Quickly, he moved to embrace me, sliding his hands up the back of my shirt
and rubbing his palms on my back.  Oh, how I loved that touch.

"And I wouldn't have you any other way," he said, nudging his face against
my neck and whispering in my ear.  "I too wish that I didn't have to leave
you.  It'll be lonely for me without you there for me to guide and protect,
or bicker with.  Without you in my bed for me to hold.  But it's what's
best."  He pulled his head back until our eyes were inches from each other
and our noses touched.  Again I was drawn in by his eyes--they seemed to
betray his façade of an ordinary man, instead radiating a godlike power
that would have terrified me if I didn't trust this man so completely.  His
eyes seemed to be asking permission of me.

Yes.

As soon as I had thought it, his lips were on mine.  Again, the excitement,
again the magic.  I shut my eyes and opened my mouth, urging him inside of
me.  He slipped his tongue into me and pleasure pulsed through my body.

But then he pulled away, much too soon.  He took his hands off my back and
stepped away from me, his lips closed and smiling, his eyes big and
suddenly very sad.  "That should last you for a few minutes at least," he
said.  "Get inside, and don't you dare be mopey.  This is your family
you're visiting, for Christsake."

I'll miss you.

He smiled.  "I know," he said.  Then he got into the car, started it up,
and drove off down the street.

I was sad to see him go.  But his kiss was still lingering on me, giving me
strength and making my mind still.

I turned back towards the house and went inside.

*****

That night, after dinner (the lasagna was flavorless but the conversation
was pleasant), after an evening playing with Zandra's tarantula (I
realized, with Sam gone, it was easy enough to befriend the girl), Monique
stood with me in the spare bedroom, putting fresh sheets on the twin bed
that was to be mine.

"So she just up and left you?" asked Monique, talking about my mother.  Now
that we were alone, she was asking me for a rundown of my childhood.
"Never came back?"

"Never," I responded.  "Obviously I didn't mean jack to her."

Monique shook her head.  "Mmm-hmm.  I knew your mother a little when she
was dating your father.  She was a pretty little thing, but I always knew
she was a little off.  When your father found her using drugs, oh lord was
he furious.  She begged for his forgiveness, told him she would stop, but
he just shook his head and pointed towards the door."  She looked at me.
"Course, if he'd a known that she was pregnant with you, he wouldn't ever
have thrown her out."  She placed my pillow on the bed.  "Then again, if
he'd a known about you, he would have never let her have custody.  You
would have lived with him, you wouldn't have been alone."

"Yeah," I said.  "But after he died, I would have been alone anyway."

She shook her head.  "Honey, after he died, you probably would have moved
in with me.  Your life would have been something entirely different from
what it was.  All of that because of a mother's selfishness."

"I wish things had been like that," I said.  "I wish they had been
different for me."

"Well, it's never too late to start fresh," she said.  "You're here now.
And Christmas is just around the corner.  You don't have any plans, do
you?"

"No," I said.  "Never really celebrated Christmas."

"Well you're about to start.  My whole family comes.  Everyone brings
food--you'll love it.  I absolutely insist you stay at least until then.
Zaney will be thrilled."

"Okay," I said, a little hesitant, but knowing Monique wasn't really giving
me an option.

"Good," she said.  "Goodnight then, Bradley.  If there's anything you need,
just let me know."

*****

In the following couple of days, Monique made every effort to make me feel
welcome and included.  She drove me around the city, giving me a tour of
every unremarkable corner of Tucson.  She took us out to the movies, took
us to the mall, every boring suburban hang-out was visited.  In the
kitchen, she cooked like a madwoman--pancakes in the morning, casserole for
lunch, and a huge, multi-course dinner.  Perhaps she was making up for all
those years when I had missed out on her cooking.  Or, maybe she was
compensating for not being an outstanding chef by cooking enough food to
kill someone with.  All I know is there was never a moment when my stomach
wasn't packed full.

When I wasn't with Monique, I spent all the rest of the time in the company
of Zandra.  Whether it was kicking around the soccer ball outside or riding
bikes (I used Tyler's bike, which from the inches of dust on it, looked
like it hadn't seen much use), Zandra always wanted me involved in whatever
active activity she was looking to do.  She obviously loved having an older
male in the house who wasn't a total geek like her brother.

Tyler spent most of the time locked in his bedroom, clickity-clanking away
at his keyboard.  When his mom would make him accompany the rest of us on
whatever we were doing, he would first whine about it, then sulk through
the entire trip.  As pathetic as my faggot-nerd cousin seemed to me, I was
determined to make friends with him.  But every time I tried to get the guy
to open up and talk to me, he would nip each conversation in the bud and
give me the cold shoulder.

"Who's your favorite NFL team?" I asked him once.

"I hate football," he responded shortly.  "It's just an excuse to watch men
engage in a toned-down, sanctioned war for entertainment purposes.  I mean,
come on?  Have we evolved at all since the Gladiator days?"

Okay, so football wasn't exactly his thing... but obviously the guy was
interested in Roman history.  "Speaking of Gladiator," I said.  "Did you
see that flick?  Wicked cool, huh?"

He glared at me.  "It was full of historical inaccuracies.  Had absolutely
no basis in fact."

"Yeah, but remember when the tiger mauled that one guy and then Russel
Crowe killed the tiger?  That was fucking awesome."

I could tell by Tyler's resulting look that my last comment had not
impressed him.

I tried again later, hoping that I would be able to win him over by
recalling one of my funny stories--those always managed to impress my
marine buddies.  "Once when I was shitfaced in Tijuana," I began.

"Oh, you're one of those types, huh?" he said in a very snobbish tone of
voice (really, that was totally normal for him).

"What types?"

"Those losers who drink before they are of legal age."

"No, not at all," I lied.  "I'm totally about waiting till I'm twenty-one.
But I was in Mexico at the time, where the legal drinking age is eighteen."

"Are you Mexican?"

"Do I look Mexican, dude?"

"Well, if you're an American, then you should abide by American law no
matter what border you cross into."  He crossed his arms and looked away
from me, and I knew the conversation was over.  There was no point in
telling him the rest of my funny story--I didn't think he'd be impressed by
the 300 pound, toothless hooker I came across in the TJ whorehouse.

It wasn't until the night before Christmas Eve that I got any farther with
Tyler.  I had woken up sometime late at night (I had been sleeping poorly
ever since I had started sleeping alone again), and got up to use the
bathroom.  I wasn't surprised by the light coming from underneath Tyler's
door; he was always up late on his computer.  What surprised me was that
Zandra's bedroom next-door had its light on as well.

I knocked on her door softly and called her name.

"Come in!" she said.  I opened the door and stepped inside.  She was
sitting at her own computer, which I had never seen her use before, and was
waving me inside and putting her finger to her lips.

"What are you doing so secretively in here?" I asked after I had shut the
door.

She had an impish grin on her face.  "Promise not to tell on me?"

"I promise," I said.

She spun around to face her computer monitor as I sat down beside her.
"Sometimes when I'm bored and stuff I like to mess with Tyler online."

I laughed, wondering if my cousin had the same mischievous gene that I did.
"What exactly do you do?"

"Well," she said.  "He's always chatting on this website.  He doesn't know
I know his profile name."

I looked at the website she was visiting.  "Gay.com?" I asked her.

"Uh, yep."

I shook my head.  "Zany, I don't think that's the kind of website you
should be visiting."

She rolled her eyes.  "Oh, please.  Bradley, I'm not a little girl any
more.  I'm eleven years old.  I've been around.  I've seen it all already."

As disturbing as this was coming from my adorable little cousin, I didn't
have it in me to be paternal or reprimanding.  "Okay, so what do you do to
Tyler?"

She laughed evilly.  "I create profiles of my own.  See?  I just created
this one I'm using tonight--"AssSlammer."

I couldn't help but choke a little at hearing Zandra say those words.  I
noticed that her profile was filled with half-naked pictures of some buff
man.  "That doesn't look like you in those pictures.  Where did you get
those?"

"It's easy.  I just find the pics on gay porn sites.  I know Tyler's type.
Hold on, I'm chatting with him now."

I looked at the screen to see Zandra type in the following:

ASSSLAMMER: dude I give great head, the best ever

"Whoa!" I exclaimed.

She laughed.

TYGUY: I need more than just head, babe.

ASSSLAMMER: oh, ill go all the way down yr cock, sexy boy

"I can't believe you're talking to your own brother like that!" I said.

She shrugged.  "It's just pretend.  Here, you try."  She shoved the
keyboard in front of me.

"I don't wanna talk all this faggy shit," I said.  "I wouldn't know what to
say."

"It's not that hard," she said.

TYGUY: r u a top or bttm?

"Uh, I have no friggin clue," I said.

"A versatile top," Zany answered for me.  "Type in that.  Most of the time
Tyler just likes to get fucked, but sometimes he'll flip for the right
guy."

"Eew," I whined, not wanting to hear about my cousin's anal sex habits.
"How do you know all this?" I asked as I typed in my answer.

"I told you, I do this all the time," she said.  "I know every little
perverse detail about my brother."

TYGUY: Just my type.  Where do you live?

"Here, give it back," she said, pulling the keyboard in front of her and
starting to type again.

ASSSLAMMER: In AZ.

TYGUY: What city?

ASSSLAMMER: Tucson.

TYGUY: wow, me too!  Wanna meet up?

ASSSLAMMER: Sure.  When?

TYGUY: I can slip out tonight.

Zandra erupted into laughter.  "He's ready to come over and screw me."
Anyway you looked at it, it was a disturbing line.

"Not, you, Zandra," I said, just to clarify.  "The imaginary person that
you created."

ASSSLAMMER: sure, let's meet.

"Zany, you're not really gonna send the poor guy out just to get stood up,
are you?"

She just giggled a response.

TYGUY: where?

ASSSLAMMER: I'll be waiting for you at Mission San Xavier with my cock out
and hard.

"Where's that?" I asked.

"On the complete opposite side of town," she said with glee.

TYGUY: that's far... but I'll be there, just give me twenty minutes or so.

"Zany, no," I said.  "Tell him the deal's off."

"No way, cuz!  This is too funny."

"It's funny to screw around with him online, yeah," I said.  "But sending
him out on some wild goose chase in the middle of the night is just plain
fucked up."

I went to grab the keyboard, but she pulled it away from me.

"It's mine!" she said.

"Zany, give it here!" I yelled.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

It wasn't coming from the door, it was coming from the wall--Tyler's room.

"Oh shit," Zany said.  "You were too loud!"

She flipped off the screen, ran to the door, and turned her lights off just
as I heard Tyler's bedroom door open.

"Stay quiet!" she whispered.

Again there was more knocking, this time on her bedroom door.  "Zandra?"
It was Tyler's voice.

Zany didn't respond.

Tyler opened the door, his frame a silhouette behind the dim light in the
hall.  "Zandra?" he said again, his voice clearly angry.

Zany was crouching against the wall not three feet from where he was
standing, but it didn't look like he could see her.

I thought he was about to leave, but instead he flipped on the lightswitch.
He quickly looked from Zany to me, and back to Zany.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"Boo!" Zany yelled as she jumped up onto her feet.  "Were you scared?  We
were trying to scare you."

"Isn't it a little late to be playing hide and go seek, Zany?" he asked.

"We couldn't sleep," she said.

Tyler nodded at me.  "Whatcha doing over there on the computer, Brad?"

"Not really on the computer," I said.  "I was just sitting here."

"The computer's off anyway," Zany said, too eagerly to be believable.

Tyler walked quickly over to the computer and switched the moniter on.  He
gasped as he saw what was on the screen.  "It was you!"  He directed his
angry stare right at me.  "You sick pervert, were you chatting with me in
front of Zany?  How could you let her see that?"

"It wasn't Brad, Tyler," Zany said.  "It was me, okay?  Don't blame Brad,
he just walked in."

"Oh, I am so telling Mom," he said.  "She'd like to know the kind of things
you've been saying online.

"You will not," Zandra yelled.  "You were being just as gross as I was,
remember?  And at least I was just playing around.  You were serious!  Like
you're really gonna tell Mom about that!"

He pointed a finger at her.  "This isn't the first time you've done this,
is it?"

"Ha!  Not likely," she said.

"Well, it'll be the last."  He walked behind the computer desk and ripped
out Zandra's cable modem line, taking it with him.

"Oh, I can't go online now, like I really care!  The only reason I go
online is to mess with you anyway."

Tyler waved the ripped out cord in my direction.  "You saw what she was
doing, and you didn't even tell me?  You're a real jerk, you know that
Bradley?"

I had respectfully stayed out of the sibling argument up to that point, but
now he was insulting me.  I wasn't just gonna sit there and take it like a
bitch.  "Yeah, why's that?" I said, standing up towards him.  "Cause we're
homeboys, the two of us, compadres?  Cause I got your back?  You don't have
a fucking clue.  Why should I have any loyalty for a guy who's snubbed his
stuck-up nose at me from the moment I got here?"

"You just don't understand me or who I am," he said, playing the victim.

"What don't I understand?  That you're gay?  That you're a horny teenager?
You think I give a fuck about that?"  I took a deep breath and calmed
myself down.  "Hey man.  Don't you think it's pretty sad that the only way
your own sister can communicate with you is by adopting an alter ego and
chatting with you online?  Don't you think it's time for a change?"

"Alright, fine," Tyler said.  "If Zany apologizes to me for what she's
done, I promise I'll make more of an effort to be accessible."

"I'm sorry, Ty, really," Zany said.

"Good, good!" I said, smiling.  "See?  It's like a regular fucking episode
of Doctor Phil in here.  I know you and I are different people, Ty, and
that's okay.  So you're gay, big fucking deal.  You're still my cousin, and
I came here to get to know you.  It doesn't matter how fucking different we
are from each other, as long as we respect each other, we can get along
fine."

*****

After that night, Tyler slowly started to spend less and less time locked
away in his room, and more and more time around myself and his family.  He
didn't make a complete personality reversal--he was still serious most of
the time--but he opened up and was generally a lot more positive.  A lot
easier to be around, and I tried as hard as I knew how to make friends with
him... clearly after a couple days I was successful.

On Christmas Eve, the family traditionally went to an evening service at
their church, and I was invited to go along.

"But I've never been to church, ever," I told Monique and Tyler as they
were started to get ready.

"Well, you're coming tonight," Monique declared as she pulled her jewelry
box out of her dresser.

"Mom, don't you think that it's impolite to force your religion on Brad?"
Tyler asked his mother.  "He's not a child, he's an adult.  He has his own
beliefs."

"Oh lord, Tyler, I'm not trying to force my religion on anyone here."  She
turned to me.  "Bradley, even if you're not a Christian, even if you don't
believe in God, that's fine, you'll still be welcome.  We don't just pray
and worship there.  There's music, there's a choir, you'll enjoy yourself,
I promise."

"I believe in God," I offered.

"Well then, you'll enjoy it even more then.  Go ahead and get dressed."

I scratched my chin, mentally combing through every item I had in my
wardrobe.  "Uh, in what?  I don't own anything nice."

"Tyler, you're about Brad's height.  Why don't you let him borrow your old
suit?"

And so, a few seconds later I was with Tyler in his bedroom, trying
hopelessly to stuff my muscular arms into a jacket that had been fitted for
my string-bean cousin.

"Push!" Tyler ordered me.  "You're not pushing!"

"I'm pushing, I'm fucking pushing!  If I push any harder, this jacket is
gonna fucking split, man."

He sighed.  "Well, that's the biggest jacket I have.  You'll just have to
go in street clothes."

"Will they let me in?"

"Are you kidding me?  It's called a church, Brad.  They're not gonna kick
you to the curb just because you violated the dress code."

Although I definitely was the only one dressed casually, although I felt as
out of place as ever among the wholesome, morally upstanding church-goers
that filled up the building around me, I also knew that I was the only one
who felt awkward about my presence there.  Everyone was as cordial and
accepting as possible.

Monique's promise that there would be music and celebration a plenty was
accurate, but there was also just as much God-talk.  A Christmas
benediction, bible lessons, etc.  While before if forced to listen to such
material I'd probably just end up check out all the hot females in the
church, but now that I knew that God was real, that angels existed, that it
was all true... well, I really listened for once.

That night when we got back from church, Monique had a dessert prepared for
us (of course).  A cherry pie, my favorite.  As I took my first bite, I
realized that this was by far the best dish she had served since I had
arrived.

"Monique, this is fantastic pie," I said.

"I just baked it, hun," she said.  "Bought it frozen."  No wonder it was so
good.  She looked briefly between Tyler and Zandra before setting down her
fork and adopting a more serious poise.  "Bradley, we need to talk."

"Uh-oh," I said, knowing full well that no pleasant conversation ever
started with those words.  "What is it?  Did you change your mind about
inviting me for Christmas?"

She laughed.  "No, honey.  It's just that, well... the three of us had a
discussion earlier.  And we were wondering what your plans were after the
holidays.  You came from LA, will you be going back there?"

I shrugged.  "I'm not sure.  I guess so."  Really, I thought, it was up to
Sam.  He seemed to have a plan for me that he enjoyed leaving me in the
dark about.

"Do you have a permanent residence there?" she asked me.

"No," I said.  "I was just staying with a friend."

"Do you have a job there?" asked Tyler.

"No," I said.  "Why?"

"Bradley, Zandra Tyler and I had a long talk today," Monique said.  "And
we've come to a decision.  And we want you to take this very, very
seriously."

"Okay," I said.

"We want you to move in here," Zandra cut in.

"Move in?" I asked.  "Like, permanently?"

"You could just stay in the room you're in now," Tyler said.

"We love having you here, Bradley," Monique said.  "You're becoming a part
of this family."

"Tucson is a big city," Tyler said.  "I'm sure you won't have a problem
finding a job."

"So, what do you think?" Monique asked.

"I don't know," I said.

They weren't just asking me to move in with them.  They were asking me to
become a part of their family.  I had never had anything like a normal
family before, and now I had a chance to be a part of something that was
almost sickingly healthy.  Before I had been completely adrift in my life.
These people would give me some direction, some real security.  This was an
opportunity that I knew wouldn't come around more than once for a
hopelessly unlucky guy like myself.

But what about Sam?  He was waiting for me in this city, waiting for me to
complete my visit and move on with him.  In a short time, Sam had become
the center of my existence.  Now, would I have to choose between my only
family and my guardian angel?

The choice wasn't even difficult, I realized.  I'd go with Sam.  I had a
much stronger attachment to Sam than with all three of my relatives
combined.  After all, I had Sam to thank for finding these people in the
first place.  I would stay with him for as long as I could.

But that was a definitive amount of time.  Sam had told me himself that he
would only stay with me for a short amount of time, and then he would be
forced to leave.

So, I would leave with Sam after the holidays because being without him
created inside of me a constant, dull ache.  But when he did leave me,
whenever that would be, I would come back here.  To my family.  This is
where I would stay.  This was where I belonged, I realized.

"You don't have to come up with an answer right now," Monique said after I
had drifted off into thought for so long.

"No," I said.  "I know exactly what my answer is.  After the holidays, I'll
have to leave here for a while.  To get things in order.  But then I'll
come back."  I smiled.  "Yes, of course I'll move in with you."

"See?"  Zany said happily.  "I told you he'd say yes."

All three of their eyes lit up with joy.  I took another bite of my cherry
pie.  Yeah, I thought.  I could really get used to this.

*****

The next morning I was awoken by Zandra jumping on top of my bed, tackling
me playfully.

"It's Christmas," she said gleefully.  "You're not allowed to sleep in on
Christmas."

She dragged me downstairs to the tree, where Monique and Tyler were already
sitting, everyone in pajamas and slippers.  I knew what would happen
now--they would open all of their presents, which, judging from the mounds
of gifts under the tree, would take ages, and I'd be forced to watch and
feign interest in it all.

I was fucking blown away when Zandra set a present on my lap.  "This is for
me?" I asked.

"It's from the three of us," Monique said.  "Just a small gift to start
with."

"I didn't know," I said, feeling a bit guilty that I had nothing to give in
return.

"I know," she said.  "You didn't have the time or the money to get us
anything, we know that.  We didn't expect you to get us any gifts, Bradley.
We're just glad that you're here."

I opened up the present, taking my time with it, thinking of the few times
in my life that I had opened a wrapped gift.  Inside was a CD Tyler had
noticed me admiring at the mall.

And there were other gifts for me through the course of the morning.  A new
watch.  A leather-bound journal that Zandra had picked out for me.  An IOU
for a fancy suit and a nice pair of shoes.

"We thought of that one last night," Monique told me.  I was shocked--that
would be expensive, I was sure!

My last gift was handed to me in a small envelope, after all the other
presents had been opened and admired.  Inside the envelope was a small card
with two words written neatly inside: "Paid Tuition."

"This is only in case you want to go back to school," Monique said.  "If
so, I'll pay for it."

"You could go to a local community college to start with," Tyler told me.
"After a couple years, you could transfer to a four-year university."

"My God," I said.  "No, this is much too much.  I can't accept all this."

"Don't worry about the money, Bradley," Monique said.  "When your father
died, I inherited all of his estate.  If he had known you were alive, all
of it would have gone to you.  I owe it to him to make sure you're taken
care of.  And besides, I couldn't think of a better way to spend my money."

"I don't know what to say."

"Say `thank you,' you dork," Zandra said.

"Yeah, thank you."

That afternoon, Monique's entire family came to celebrate.  Dozens of
people, all with armfuls of food, marching through the front door.  I was
introduced to everyone, and everyone was inclusive of me--although I
couldn't help but feel out of place, the only white person there in a house
jam-packed with boisterous black people.

Even so, it was by far the best Christmas I'd ever had.

*****

The next day Monique went back to work, and she told us she wouldn't get
off that night until ten.  She put me in charge of Zandra.

"Make sure she doesn't get into any trouble.  I'm trusting you, Brad."

That afternoon, after the fun of playing with all of her new Christmas toys
ran dry, Zandra suggested that her and I go hiking on a nearby trail that
led up into the mountains.  I was never really an outdoorsy guy--when I was
in the Marines, we had to hike miles, haul our own gear, and pitch our own
tents, all of which was a necessary but grueling part of the job.  I wasn't
the type to volunteer (or, even worse to pay) for more hiking and camping
on my off time.  And I sure as hell wasn't ever one of those naturalists
that stops to hug every tree they pass on their way up a mountain.  But
Zandra really wanted to take me hiking, and frankly, sitting around the
house hour after hour was getting dull.  So I agreed to go with her.
Wanting to include Tyler, I took Zandra into his room, hoping to sell him
on the excursion.

"You can't go up to the canyon, Zany, you know that."  He gave me a "you'd
better fucking support me here" look.  "Mom has absolutely forbidden her to
go."

"Because she's being over-protective, like usual," Zandra said.

"There's mountain lions up there," Tyler said.

"So what?  I've gone over and over again and I've never seen one."

"A couple kids were attacked not long ago, you know that.  They hunt down
kids."

"But Brad's with me, and he's an adult.  So I'll be fine."

"It doesn't matter if it's safe or not, Mom said no!"

"But it's only three-thirty," I cut in, knowing Zandra was fighting a
losing battle with her brother and needed support.  "And your mom's not
coming home until ten"

"Mom doesn't have to know," Zandra said, a mischevious grin spreading
across her face.

"Yeah," I agreed.  Tyler was looking up at me reproachfully.  "What?" I
asked him.  "You're telling me you never keep things from your mother?"

"Yeah, well," Tyler said.  "Zandra's eleven.  She should obey the rules."

"Hell," I said.  "I've been breaking all the rules since before I learned
how to walk."

He raised an eyebrow.  "Yeah, and look how well you turned out."

It was a fucked up thing to say.  "I'm going to forget you said that, and
you're going to do exactly what I say.  You're going to come hiking with me
and Zandra, we'll have a hell of a time, and if your mom asks what we did
all day, we'll tell her we went to a movie."

"Yeah right," said Zandra.  "Like Tyler would come hiking.  He has asthma."
She gave a mock impression of exaggerated wheezing.  "He'll faint halfway
up the hill."

"Why do you have to be such a brat all the time?"

"Why do you have to be such a weakling?"

Tyler opened up his desk drawer, pulled out an inhaler, and stuck it in his
pocket.  "Let's go then.  I'm ready."

*****

We reached the summit, Zandra leading, climbing the rocky path with grace
and enthusiasm, me keeping just a step behind her, and Tyler a few feet
back, huffing and puffing some, but doing fine, regardless.

"Wowee.  It sure is beautiful up here," I said, looking down at the cactus
covered hills reflecting the orange light of the sunset and the city beyond
us.

"I told you it would be," Zandra said.

I sat down on a nearby rock and gazed out at the horizon.

"We should go back," Tyler said anxiously.  "The sun's already starting to
set and we didn't think to bring a flashlight."

"Tyler," I said.  "Relax, please.  Don't be so uptight.  How often do you
have a view like this?  Come and sit down next to me."

He groaned, but he sat down on the rock beside me.  But he wasn't looking
at the view, he kept his eyes locked on the trail leading back home, his
knee bouncing up and down anxiously.

Irritated, I grabbed his knee and held it down.  "Relax, cousin, and just
enjoy this moment.  We don't know if we'll ever have another like it."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.  "You live with us now, and this
trail is right by our house.  We could come up here everyday if we wanted
to."

Zandra sat down on the other side of me and leaned against my body.  "I'm
glad to be here with you, Brad," she said.

"Thanks Zany," I said, putting my arm around her.  "You two don't even
know.  You're my only family."

"I like having you around," said Zany.  "It's like we finally have a man in
the house."

"Hey, what about me?" asked Tyler.  "I'm not even a year younger than
Brad."

"Well, he seems about ten years older," said Zandra.

"When are you going to start treating me with some respect?" asked Tyler.

"I guess when you finally turn off your computer and do something that's
actually cool."

"Alright," I said, feeling that the moment of familial bonding was long
gone.  "Let's go back."

"It's coming on night, so we'd better be on the look out for mountain
lions," Tyler said as the two of them followed me down.

"Yeah, and what are we supposed to do if one of them comes after us?" I
asked.

"They like to eat kids more than adults," Tyler said.  "So we should toss
Zany to it as an offering and run like mad."

"Good plan," I said.

"I heard that," Zandra said.  She bumped me out of the way as she took the
lead, moving fast down the rocky path.

A half hour later, as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon but the sky
still had enough glow to see the landscape, Zandra stopped hiking suddenly,
gasping.

"Uh, guys," she said.  "Please tell me that's not a mountain lion out there
ahead of us."

"Where?" I asked.

She pointed down the hill, and I saw what she saw--a black furry creature
moving up the trail.  "What is that?" I asked.  "It looks big enough to be
a mountain lion, doesn't it?"

Zandra hit Tyler in the gut.  "This is your fault."

"How is this my fault?  What did I do?"

"All that talk about mountainlions.  Worrying like you do.  You jinxed us.
I've never seen one, ever, until today."

Tyler peered out onto the path.  "I couldn't have jinxed us, Zany, because
that's not a mountain lion out there."

"What is it then, Einstein?"

"A wolf."  My heart dropped in my chest as he said this.  "A big black
one."

"Wolves... do they normally live around here?" I asked, praying to God the
answer was yes.

"No, this isn't their habitat," Tyler answered.  Damn.

"But you're sure it's a wolf?" I asked.

"Yeah!  And it's strolling right up the path towards us.  It looks like
it's looking right at us."

Zany moved against my side and took my hand in hers.  "What do we do?" she
asked me.

"It's just one wolf," Tyler responded.  "We should stay here and make lots
of noise, scare it off."

While normally this might have been a sensible idea, I knew that we were
not facing an ordinary run-of the-mill, scared of loud noises kind of wolf
out there.  I was sure it was a one of those fucking werewolf monsters, and
half convinced that it was the very same one that had almost killed me in
LA, looking to finish the job.

Only this time, I had my cousins with me.  I was responsible for their
safety.  If anything were to happen to them, I'd never forgive myself.

I looked out at the path ahead of us.  Its gravelly lane traveled along a
semi-circle trajectory back to the trailhead, avoiding the steep slopes and
rocky cliffs that would have gotten in the way of hikers if the trail had
been made in a straight line.  I looked down into the distance at the
trailhead off to the left.  There was a public bathroom there, a parking
lot, and then beyond that a residential street with lit houses.  If we
could only get to one of those houses.

"Follow me, quickly," I said.  "But be careful!"

I walked off to the left, off the trail, being careful to avoid the cacti
or anything else that looked uncomfortably prickly, which around here was
practically everything.  Zandra followed right behind me, she was
unquestionably trusting.  I didn't know if I deserved her trust.

"Go off the path?" asked Tyler, with absolutely none of the same trust.
"Are you insane?  It's really steep that way!  The wolf is less of a danger
to us then falling off those rocks."

"You're wrong," I said, knowing the truth wouldn't work here.  I needed to
convince Tyler with a lie, and I needed to do it quickly.  "The wolf's
rabid.  It's coming for us, and if it gets us, it will sure as hell attack.
There's no scaring it away.  Trust me, this is the kind of thing we learn
about in the Marines."

"Oh my god!" Zany cried, more scared than ever now.

"Rabid?  How can you tell?" asked Tyler.

"Uhh... It's foaming at the mouth."

He spun his head towards the wolf.  "I don't see any foam."  Fucker always
had to contradict me.

"Well, your vision sucks," I said.  "That's why you're wearing glasses."

"I'm supposed to have better than perfect vision through these glasses."

"Better call your optometrist then.  Just shut the fuck up and do as I say,
okay?"

Yelling at him seemed to work--he followed Zandra and me off the path.  I
started to climb down a rockface, the ground a good sixty feet down.  The
footing was tricky, but as long as each step was planned carefully, it
wasn't so difficult.  As long as you weren't scared of heights, that is.

"Zany, I want you to climb down behind me," I said.  "Don't worry about
rushing, just take it slow and easy."

"Are you kidding?" she said with sass.  "I bet could make it to the bottom
before you even get halfway down."

"Just be careful, Zany," Tyler said as he started climbing down above her.
"If you fall and kill yourself, I'd never hear the end of it from Mom."

We were about halfway down the cliff when I stopped and looked up.  On the
top of the cliff was that big black wolf, looking down at us over the edge,
its pink tongue hanging out of its mouth.  It pawed the edge of the cliff
tentatively.  Was it going to try and climb down after us?

No.  It turned on its heels and ran back down the path, taking the longer,
flatter route down.  And now it was moving real fast.  At the slow rate we
were navigating down the cliff, I knew it would reach the bottom before we
did.

"It's coming down after us," I said.  "We have to move faster."

I moved as fast as I could, with Zandra keeping up close behind me.  But
Tyler was still plodding along at the same pace as before.

"Come on, Tyler, get your ass moving!"

"I can't go any faster than this!"

"Bullshit!  You're just scared, that's all!"

Tyler rolled his eyes at me and started to descend with more speed,
catching up pretty quickly behind Zandra.  Satisfied, I turned my head back
downwards and kept moving.

I heard the sound of sliding rocks above me, and whipped my head up.  Tyler
had slipped on some gravel, had fallen backwards into the cliff, and was
quickly sliding down towards a precipice.  I gasped, but there was nothing
I could do--he was much too far from me for me to stop his fall.

Somehow he caught a hold of a jagged rock, bringing his fall to a halt.  At
the same time, however, he fell right into Zandra, knocking her off her
feet and off the cliff face.  This time, I was close enough to react--I
thrust my body towards her and caught her around the ribs before she could
fall.  I pulled her back safely against the cliff.

"You okay?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she said, turning to face her brother.  "No thanks to you Tyler.  I
could have died!"

"Well, it wasn't my idea to climb down this way, was it?"

I looked at the wolf coming down the slope and starting to turn towards us.
"We can argue later.  Right now, just keep moving."

Without words, we descended the rest of the way down the cliff faster than
we had moved before, becoming less scared the closer we got to the ground.
The wolf was close now, running towards us, and I put my hands on my
cousins' backs and pushed them in the opposite direction of the beast.

"To the street.  As fast as you can.  Move!"

I stayed behind them, knowing that ultimately we could only move as fast as
Zandra, the slowest of the three of us.  I kept looking back over my
shoulder--the wolf was moving furiously fast.

"Shit," I said.  "Shit, we're not gonna make it."  I considered picking up
Zandra and running with her on my back.

Sam, I need you right now.

We came at the head of the trailhead, in front of a small hut which
contained public bathrooms.

"Quick, in here!" yelled Zandra, charging into the women's bathroom.

"No!" I yelled, but Tyler was already following her in.  "We can't hide,
he'll find us.  We need to keep running."

"We don't need to, there's a lock on this door!" yelled Zandra.

"It looks pretty sturdy," Tyler added.

I heard fast feet scraping on the rocks a good distance behind me, and
turned to see the wolf running right at me, white teeth bared.

I ran into the bathroom.  "Lock it!" I yelled.

Zandra shut the door and Tyler locked it shut.  It was just a flimsy wooden
door.  I knew we were screwed.

Sam, come quick.  Please, Please.

All three of us had our eyes locked onto the door as we heard the wolf
slowly walk in front of it.  But the footsteps had changed--no longer were
they the sound of four padded paws.  Now they sounded like large human
feet.  I grabbed Tyler's arm in one hand and Zandra's in the other, and
pulled them away from the door, as far back as we could go, against the
back wall.

"Hello, kids," came that familiar, impossibly deep voice.  "Open up this
door and let me in."

"It's a man out there," Zandra said.  "Thank God."  She started to move out
towards the door.

I stopped her with my hand.  "Don't open it," I said.  "He's just as evil
as that wolf.  He'll kill us if we let him in."

Zandra looked back at me, anxious tears coming to her eyes, her lip
trembling.

"You like locking yourself in cages, huh kid?" came the man's deep,
rumbling voice.  "You know better.  I'll give you five seconds to come out
here and face me like a man.  Leave the other two out of it."

Zandra clutched my arm.  "Don't you dare, Brad, don't leave us.  Don't open
that door."

I knew that the locked door was of absolutely no use, that before long he
would be in the building.  But if I went outside to face him, I would
surely die.  And then there would be no one to protect these kids.  He was
a werewolf, a monster... he would kill them if he had the chance, this I was
sure of.  I couldn't leave my cousins to die.

"No deal, fuckhead!" I yelled back.

"You're a fool," he growled.

Sam, please come.

"What is that sound?" asked Tyler, pushing against me.  It was the terrible
sound of the wolf's flesh expanding and growing.  His transformation.

Sam, I'm not fucking around here.  I'll be dead in a few seconds!

"Stay back, both of you!" I yelled at my two cousins as I moved to stand a
few feet in front of them.  When he came in, I would throw myself at him.
He would kill me easily, but it would give the kids a chance to run past
us.

There was a large crash, and the sound of wood splintering.  I looked
towards the door, expecting it to be broken down, but the door was intact.
And yet, the sound of wood fracturing and breaking continued.

"He's knocking the building down!" Tyler yelled behind me.  "How's he doing
that?"

I looked up.  The ceiling was slowly moving back as the walls bent and
twisted and broke.

He wasn't coming in.  He was going to destroy the whole fucking hut.

"We have to get out of here, now!" I yelled at them.

"The window!" Zandra yelled, and she ran towards the only window in the
place, so high on the wall that she'd barely be able to reach it on her
own.

I took a step towards her, but before I could take a second one, the
ceiling crashed down and fell on top of me.

I smashed into the floor as piles of wood and stone fell upon me.  Then,
silence.  Pitch blackness, as an unbearable weight pushed me down, sharp
pieces of rubble cutting into my skin.  I was trapped, immobile, powerless.

And then all I could do was wait.

It was the third time in only a few weeks that I was sure I was going to
die.  I gave every ounce of effort to stay alive, but all my energy only
lasted a couple minutes at most.

I was suffocating quickly.  Blacking out.

And then I heard sounds... rubble being tossed away at a tremendous pace.  I
knew it must have been the wolf, coming in to finish the job.

But when a hole opened up above my left arm, I didn't care who it was out
there.  I thrust my hand up into the air, frantically reaching for anyone
who might get me out of this.

A hand clutched my own hand, and I knew as soon as the warm calmness seeped
into me that this was no wolf.  It was Sam.

He pulled more and more rubble away, never letting go of my hand, until my
face was uncovered.  I breathed in the air and coughed out dust.  I looked
up into his face.  Beyond that were the night stars, the ceiling of the hut
no longer above me but surrounding me.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, with fear in his voice.

"I don't think so," I said as he continued to remove me from the rubble.
"What about the wolf?"

"I chased him off when I got here," he said.

"What about Tyler and Zandra?  Are they okay?"

"I don't know, Brad," he said.  "They're both under here somewhere."

I let go of his hand, a flash of anger running through me.  "You saved me
before you went for them?  Why would you do that?"  I was pissed.  If
anything happened to those two, I would hate him for it.

"Because you're the one who's most important to me.  Can you get out now?"

I managed to sit up.  "Yeah."

Sam ran off, digging into the rubble in another spot.  He must have known
one of my cousins was down there.

I pulled the rest of the wreckage off of me and clumsily got to my feet.  I
hurt everywhere, but I didn't think anything was broken.  I needed to help.

By the time I stumbled over to Sam, he had already uncovered Tyler's face.
He was gasping for air.

"Are you hurt?" Sam asked him.

"I can't move," he said.  "But I think I'm okay.  Zandra, get Zandra."

Sam jumped to his feet, scanning the rest of the rubble.

"Where is she, Sam?" I demanded.

"It's difficult," he said, looking around carefully.  "I'm barely feeling
anything from her.  She may be unconscious already."

"Sam, you gotta find her.  Please!"

He seemed to settle on a location and moved towards it, whipping away the
rubble beneath him.  "Here," he said.

I ran beside him and worked my way into the debris as well.

Finally, we uncovered her leg.  I gasped as I saw it was covered in blood.

We uncovered her other leg and her stomach.  Blood had soaked through her
shorts, her white T-shirt.

"She's cut up, everywhere," Sam said.  "It's real bad, Bradley."

"There was glass," I said.  "She was under a window."

Sam had her in his arms and was pulling her head out of the rubble.  Her
eyes were shut.

"Is she dead?" I asked, my voice quivering and dusty tears stinging my
eyes.

"Just about," he said.  "My sword, get my sword," he told me.  "I dropped
it back there somewhere."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, worried suddenly that he was going to
give up on her and put her out of her misery or something.

"Just get it!"

I scrambled down the rubble, tripping and falling as I did, but I found his
sword and ran it back to him.  He had been clearing the blood off of her
skin with his hands, finding all the wounds.  He took the sword from me
like a surgeon taking a scalpel from a nurse.

"Brad, you might want to turn away," he said.

"Like hell," I said.

He held the blade in between his knees and worked his forearm against it,
slicing himself from his wrist to his elbow.  I had no idea what he was
doing or why he was doing it.

He placed his arm against the worst wound on her neck.  His blood dripped
onto her, mixing with her own.  Then he wiped the blood away with his hand,
and the wound was gone.

"How did you do that?" I asked, completely astounded.

"Angel blood will heal human wounds."

He continued his work, first healing the gash on her shoulder, then the
ones on her stomach and legs.

She coughed suddenly and opened her eyes.

"Zandra?" Sam asked.  "How are you feeling?"

She groaned a response.

"She's still lost a lot of blood," he said.  "I don't know if she'll make
it."

"We need to call an ambulance!"

"I already did when I was digging you out," he said, looking out towards
the street.  "They're on their way."

And sure enough, I could already hear the sirens approaching.

"There's nothing more I can do," Sam said.  "I'd better go."

With that, he got up and ran off into the darkness before I could even say
a word, disappearing into the desert.

The first ambulance that arrived called for reinforcements immediately, put
Zandra on a stretcher, and whisked her away to the hospital.  I didn't want
to leave her, and I tried to go with her, but the paramedics wouldn't have
it.  They told me I needed to wait for my own ambulance.

More paramedics arrived on the scene soon after.  They were starting to dig
Tyler out of the debris.  A woman in uniform was standing over him, holding
onto his arms, pulling him.

"My legs are stuck," he said.

"I need you to try and climb out," she told him.  "I'm going to pull your
arms."

He tried to get himself out, but he didn't budge.  "I don't know," he said.
"I can't move my legs.  They're stuck."

The woman and the others resorted to digging him out, pulling away the
debris, freeing his body a piece at a time.  I knew it was only a matter of
time before they had him free.  I turned away from ruined building,
submitting to the paramedics who wanted to inspect my cuts even after
assuring them that none of them were serious.  I hopped up into the
ambulance, hoping they might take me to the hospital as soon as possible so
that I might see what was happening to Zandra.  They put me in a stretcher,
and I shut my eyes.

Then I heard Tyler scream in anguish out in the wreck.  I sat up, trying to
move towards the back door of the ambulance.

My paramedic had his hand on my shoulder, holding me back.  "Please stay
where you are."

"I have to go see..." I said, but he was still holding me down.

"They won't move!"  I heard Tyler scream.  "I can't move my legs."

"We've got possible paralysis over here!"

"No, no!" shouted my cousin, crying now.

"I have to get out there!" I said, struggling against this man who was
forcing me down.  But the other paramedic was getting in, shutting the back
door of the ambulance.  Our siren came on, and we were driving away.

*****

I sat alone in the waiting room, staring down at my dirty sneakers and
feeling about as bad about myself as I ever had.  I was the one who pushed
my cousins into leaving the house in the first place.  That wolf was coming
after me, but it was Tyler and Zandra who paid the price.

Monique came rushing down the hall suddenly, her eyes red from crying and
her cheeks wet.  I got to my feet, and when she saw me, she let out a
slight sob as she came towards me.

"Look at you," she said, referring to the bandages on my face and arms
covering my cuts.  She took me in her arms carefully for a moment.  "Are
you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said.

"What about my kids?" she asked.  "Where are they?"

I took a deep breath.  "Zandra's going to be fine," I said.  "She's doing
fine."

"And Tyler?"

I couldn't tell her.  I said nothing.

"What about Tyler?" she asked, angrily now.

I shook my head.  "He's back there," I said.

She went running off through the double doors behind us, more upset than
ever.  I knew I should have followed her, but I didn't.  Instead, I sat
back down in my chair, put my head in my hands, and started to cry again.
The only other person in the room was the skinny red head receptionist, and
she was looking away from me at her computer behind the counter, her long,
plastic nails loudly clicking against the keyboard.  I kept my grief
silent, not wanting to attract her attention to me.

I felt an arm around my back, and thought at first that it was the
receptionist coming to give me unwanted consolation, but as the hand rubbed
up my spine, I could feel it was large, heavy, and strong... a man's hand.
It moved up past my shirt collar and touched the skin of my neck, and I
sighed knowingly, letting myself go as Sam's fingers massaged my skin.

"You came back," I whispered to him.

"Of course.  First I had to take care of the wolf."

"You told me that I was safe from him here."

"You should have been.  This area is overrun with... well, let's just say
that it seems like a wolf just walking into Phoenix or Tucson would be
inconceivable--it's much too dangerous for them.  But this one, he somehow
just goes where he pleases.  I don't know, Brad.  It seems that everything
I have been certain of recently has been thrown into question.  The rules
are changing, perhaps."

"Did you kill him?" I asked, not caring about rules, just wanting
vengeance.

"I wish I could.  But I'm not strong enough anymore.  I've called in a
favor with some of the other angels.  They're on their way here now.
They'll hunt down the beast and give him the end he deserves."

"How long will it take?" I asked.

"A day perhaps.  I'm the only angel on this side of the world.  It will
take the others a bit of time to get here."

"Tyler, he's--"

"I know," he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and firmly pulling
me into him.

"He'll never be able to walk again."

"I know," he said.  "I'm sorry."

A nurse came into the room and started to ask questions of the
receptionist.

"Can they see me?" I asked.

"No," Sam replied.  "Nobody can see you.  Go ahead and cry."

I wrapped my arms around his chest, pressed my face into his black jacket,
and did just that.

*****

They were finally letting me go see Tyler, after Monique had already been
with him for a couple hours.  It was a moment I was absolutely dreading but
knew I would have to face sooner or later.

He was bruised and scraped, his tiny frame was completely lost inside his
hospital gown.  Somehow he looked more fragile than ever.

His legs, of course, were completely stationary.  They were pressed
together and set completely straight.  There was an unnaturalness to their
position... already they looked lifeless and cumbersome.

I could tell Tyler had been crying--his eyes were red and puffy and his
cheeks had glistening tracks of dried tears.  But when I came in the room,
he put on a brave face.

"I'm sorry," was all I could tell him.

"Don't be sorry.  It wasn't your fault."

"You didn't want to go hiking," I said.  "I should have never pushed you
like that."

"Ridiculous," he assured me.  "There was no way you could have known that
we'd be attacked like that, right?  Right, Bradley?"

I said nothing.

*****

Monique looked at me with suspicious, tired eyes, her hand gripping a cup
of cheap coffee from the hospital cafeteria.  The police had already
questioned me, but she was going over everything again, making me explain
every last detail.

"So before this man came along, you were being chased be a wolf?" Monique
asked me.

I sighed, trying to think up the most believable lie that wouldn't totally
contradict what she already knew.  "Yeah.  I mean, I don't know, really.
There was something out there... Tyler thought it looked like a wolf.  But
it was sorta dark, you know?  It could have been anything.  Maybe we
imagined the whole thing, I don't know."

"And you went into the bathroom to hide from this... thing, whatever it was,
right?  Isn't that what you told the police?"

"Yeah, we locked ourselves in the bathroom.  That's when the man came
along."

"The man that knocked down the whole building single-handedly?"  She asked
in disbelief.

"Well, it wasn't really a building.  More like a little shack.  And I don't
know how he knocked it down--maybe he had help."

"And you had no idea who this man was?"

"No, I don't know.  Obviously the guy was insane.  That's all I know."

"Uh-huh," she said suspiciously.  "But when I asked Zandra the same thing,
she said that you knew the attacker.  That he was talking to you
specifically."

She was catching my lies.  She was too clever too fool.  "I didn't know
him.  He was talking to me, that's true, trying to convince me to open the
door and stuff.  But he didn't know me personally."

She stared at me for a moment, a frown slowly coming over her face.  "Don't
you lie to me, Bradley, don't you do that.  Don't do that to me.  I know
that this wasn't just some random attack.  This guy wasn't after my kids,
was he?  No, he was after you.  I don't know why, but he was after you."
She put her fingers to her lips and shook her head back and forth, looking
at the ground.  "My boy's gonna be in a wheelchair for the rest of his
days, and you can bet that I'm gonna blame someone for what happened to
him.  And right now, that someone is you."

I was a good liar.  But the story was preposterous, and she was a shred
woman.  Guilt set in once again, and I gave up the attempt.  "You're right,
okay?  It is my fault.  I did know that guy.  He followed me here, and he
attacked us because he wanted me dead.  This isn't the first time he's done
it, either."

"Who is he?  What have you gotten yourself mixed up in, kiddo?"

I hesitated, considering for a moment being completely honest with her,
getting everything off my chest.  But I'd just end up sounding like a nut.
So I had to be vague.  "Just a really bad guy from my past.  I wished that
all of it would just go away, but it won't.  I thought I'd be safe here
with you, but I'm not.  And as long as I stay here, I'm putting you and
Tyler and Zandra at risk.  I'm gonna go.  Leave town."

"No, you are not," she commanded.  "You're not running from that
son-of-a-bitch anymore.  You're staying with me.  You're gonna tell
everything you know to the police, and they'll protect us."

I laughed.  "The police can't protect us, Monique.  This guy isn't alone.
He has a lot of powerful friends.  I have to go.  It was a mistake to ever
come in the first place."

"I thought I could count on you here," she said, starting to cry.  "I'll
need more help than ever now that Tyler is, well you know..  The kids think
so highly of you."

"I'm sorry, Monique, but I have to go.  I'm leaving, now."  I took a step
back from her.

"There's nothing I can say to make you stay, I know that much."  She hugged
me.

"If it's ever safe for me to come back, I will," I said, even though I knew
that to be unlikely.  "I'm gonna take off now."

"Don't you want to wait to say goodbye?  For Tyler's sake?"

"No," I said, knowing that I couldn't take seeing him like he was now.  "I
can't.  You tell him goodbye for me.  Zany too.  Tell them both I'm sorry."

"Okay," she said.  I smiled sadly at her and walked down the hall.  "Brad!"
Monique said and I spun around to face her.  "Don't you end up like your
mother.  Don't let yourself fall through the cracks, you hear?"

"I won't.  I promise."  And I left without looking back at her again.

Sam was waiting with the car when I went outside.  I got in the passenger
seat, and he squeezed my knee as we drove away from the hospital.  "You did
the right thing," he said.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said.  "Where we going now?"

"To my hotel room for the night," he replied.  "It's too late to leave the
city now."

"What about the wolf?  Is he still lurking around here somewhere?"

Sam shook his head.  "He's been dealt with.  He can't hurt anyone any
longer."

I nodded, looking at the street in front of us.  He deserved it for what he
did.  "So does that mean the other angels are here now?"

Sam shook his head.  "Already gone."

I was disappointed.  I had hoped to meet an angel besides Sam.

Sam peered over at me behind his wrap-around black sunglasses.  "It's not
allowed," he said.

"What?"

"You'll never meet another angel besides myself.  It's forbidden."

I accepted this statement without question.  "We need to stop at the
house," I said.  "I have to get my things."

"I've already taken care of that."

*****

I was in the shower in Sam's hotel room, getting cleaned up before bed.
Sam had offered to mend my wounds the same way he did for Zandra, and I
took him up on that.  He had carefully removed my bandages, cut his hand
with his sword, and rubbed his warm blood into my scabs.  With an itchy
fizz, the wounds disappeared completely.  Weird fucking shit, but welcome
nonetheless.

I had asked Sam if there was any way he could heal Tyler's paralysis.  He
frowned sadly and shook his head, telling me that angels could only heal
skin and flesh wounds.  There was always science, he told me.

Science.  That's what I was thinking about as I washed the blood off my
body.  There was nothing less dependable in my mind than trusting Tyler's
future to medical progress.  "With new genetic and stem cell research," the
doctor had told Monique and I, "who knows what we'll be able to do for him
in a few years."

But doctors had been giving statements like those to paraplegic patients
for decades.  And what had really changed in the past twenty years?
Nothing.  I had no hope that anything would change for Tyler.

I turned off the water, dried off, and wrapped a towel around my waist.  I
started to shave, and as I slowly moved the razor over my face, that pain
in my stomach returned suddenly, that anxiety that was a horrible mixture
of self-hatred and self-pity.  Self-hatred because I knew I was responsible
for what had happened to my cousins.  Self-pity because just when my life
seemed to be turning a corner, it all went to hell again.  Suddenly I began
to question once more if I had been the cause of Drew's suicide as well.
Everything in my life always turned out so shitty in the end.

Except Sam.  He was the one and only constant positive in my world.

I turned off the light and walked into the bedroom in my towel.  Sam was
lying on top of the bed, stripped down to his boxers, reading the paper by
the light of his bedstand lamp.

"Murder rates are increasing exponentially around the world," he said.
"Along with disappearances.  The monsters in the shadows are waging war and
humanity is the one paying the price."

But I was too upset to be interested in global death rates.  I was already
looking hungrily at his body on the bed, his tan, bare skin looking so warm
and inviting, thick veins running like lightning down over his muscles.  I
knew the power his skin had over me, and I needed it right then.

He must have read my mind, because he gave me a half smile, set down his
paper, and patted the bed beside him.  "Come here," he whispered.  "I'll
make you feel better, Brad."

I gestured to my towel around my waist.  "I should put on some underwear or
something."

He motioned me forward.  "No need," he said.  "Just come here.  You look
cute in that towel anyway."

This comment disturbed me and sent a chill down my spine.  He was not
supposed to say things like that.  But I wrote it off and jumped onto the
bed beside him.

Immediately I had my arms around his back, my cheek pressed flat against
his chest, feeling his soft, blonde chest hair against my skin.  He wrapped
his arm around my back, holding me against him.  "I've waited a long time
to hold you like this," I said.  "When you dropped me off at Monique's, you
warned me not to do anything to fuck things up.  That's exactly what I've
done."

"It wasn't your fault," he said.  "You never knew you were putting them in
any danger."

"Sam," I said, lifting my head up to look him in the face, "what does it
mean that Tyler has the same gene that I do?"

"Nothing," he said.  "Because the gene is inactive in him."

"But what if it turned active?" I asked.  "What then?  Would his injury
heal?"

"That doesn't matter, Bradley, because in order for the gene to activate in
Tyler, you would first have to die.  And I plan for you to long outlive
your cousin.  So put that out of your mind."

"But let's say I were to die.  Would he be able to walk again?"

"I don't know," Sam said.  "My intuition tells me no, but I just don't know
for sure."

I laid back down beside him, looking up at the ceiling and thinking this
over.  After a second I looked back into his face.  "What would happen if I
were to turn into an angel, like you did?  Would Tyler's gene activate
then?"

He looked uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.  "It
doesn't matter because--"

"Just answer me, yes or no, Sam."

He groaned.  "Yes.  In theory, if you became an angel, the gene would
activate in whoever its next oldest possessor is.  Probably Tyler.  But
it's a moot subject because it will never happen."

"Why not?" I asked.  "You were human once and you were turned into an
angel, right?  Why can't I be like you?"

"It's complex," he said.

"Tell me," I urged.  "I want to be like you.  Go from place to place,
helping those in need.  I could be down with that.  Why can't you make me
like you?"

"It's not something I alone can do," he said.  "The other angels have to
approve--there's certain criteria."

"What criteria?"

"Well, for one, your body has to be an immaculate vessel, worthy of an
immaculate host.  You have to be the paragon of perfection, flawless."

I looked down at my bare torso.  "I don't have any flaws," I said.  He
looked at me disbelievingly.  "What?  You don't think I'm good looking
enough to be an angel?"

"No, I didn't say that.  I think you're very good looking.  But we're
talking about perfection, Bradley.  The other angels would strike you down
based on your looks alone.  And there are other, even more stringent
prerequisites.  You have to be morally sound."

"I'm working towards that," I said.

"You have to have a strong conviction in the Lord."

"Well," I said.  "I've been trying to pray some lately.  That's a start,
right?"

He laughed.  "Bradley, I've heard your prayers.  Many six-year-olds have
more of a profound understanding of God than you do."

"Well, that'll change then.  You want me to be a fucking saint, I told you,
I can do it."

He shook his head.  "You can't adopt a faith now, Bradley, it's already too
late.  The angels only accept those who have always fostered a healthy and
deep relationship with God from the very beginnings of their lives.  And
frankly, I could go on and on with reasons of why you would never be
accepted as a host body for an angel.  All the changes you are suggesting
in yourself would be healthy endeavors for you, but none of them will ever
grant you admission into the angel circle, I'm afraid.  We're not talking
about something that happens all the time here.  We can go years without
initiating a new angel into our circle, and when we do, they are chosen
from a wide pool of carefully scrutinized potentials."

"Fine," I said, letting my head fall back against his chest again.  "Forget
I mentioned it then."

"I'm sorry, Bradley.  But you have nothing to be ashamed about.  You're the
Eversor.  You'll live as long as me, if fortune would have it."  He rubbed
my back.  "You don't need to be an angel.  I love you just the way you
are."

"Yeah, great," I said.  "I'll live forever, but I'll never really be able
to be close to anyone.  Have a family.  Because if I do, there's always the
risk that they'll be attacked just like Tyler and Zandra were."

"For now, that's true, yes," he said.  "But who knows what the future
holds."

I laughed sarcastically.  "I can't expect anything to change in the future.
Basically, I'll always be alone."  I looked up into his eyes, giving him my
best commanding stare.  "Don't leave me alone, Sam.  You're the only one
who will be safe with me."

He shook his head.  "When the time comes, I'll have to leave you too," he
said.  "It will kill me to, but that's the way it is."

"When will that be?" I asked.

"Soon, unfortunately.  But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he
yawned.  "The sun's rising.  Let's get some sleep."  He reached over and
tuned off the lamp beside him.

But how could I put my inevitable abandonment out of my mind?  I
wondered--was I strong enough now to live on my own?  Would I slip into a
lonely depression or would I find a way to be happy?

"Shh," Sam said, although I hadn't said anything.  "Let your mind rest."
He rolled his body on top of mine, letting his weight settle upon me,
squeezing me with his arms and rubbing his legs against mine.  With all of
this contact, it was impossible for me to remain unhappy.  I relaxed, and
fell asleep in no time.

*****

My dreams were always strange, abstract, and emotionally charged, and that
night was no exception.  I was alone in some new city, a stranger in a
strange land, a place full of colors and mystery.  I was in some sort of
nightclub, and a gorgeous woman in a blue dress was making eyes at me from
across the bar.  I looked at her and she smiled.

"Do you know me?" she said softly, and although the club was noisy and she
was far away from me, I heard her as clearly as if she had whispered in my
ear.

"No," I said.

"Don't I know you?" she asked, a bit seductively.

"I don't know," I said.

All I really knew was that I was beyond horny, intensely turned on.  My
dick was throbbing painfully, and she looked so hot in that dress.

And then I got my wish--the crowd disappeared and we were alone in the
club.  She was kissing me, and I pushed her down to the ground, starting to
pull off her dress.  I was already naked.

"Leave the dress on," she said, biting at my hand playfully as I tried to
push the straps off her shoulder.

So I left the dress on, but pushed it up to her hips.  She wasn't wearing
any underwear--her cunt was just out there in the open.  I stuck my dick
into her and began to go for it.

She moaned and yelled as I did it, looking up at me intensely.  And then
she commanded, "Kiss me!"

But I didn't want to.  "No," I said.

"Kiss me!" she yelled, angrily.

I ignored her and kept on thrusting.

And then something happened that completely terrified me.  She was growing,
her muscles bulging out, her face changing into a beast-like form as black
fur sprouted all over her body.

I had the black werewolf underneath me, growling, fangs dripping.  And yet
I was still fucking, I couldn't stop fucking.

She laughed, only it wasn't her voice anymore, it was the voice of the
black wolf.  "You like locking yourself in cages, huh kid?" he asked me.
"Now, kiss me!"

He darted up, jaws open, and practically swallowed my whole mouth as I
screamed.

Then I was awake, I knew, only someone was on top of me, holding me down,
and their mouth was on top of mine, their tongue in my mouth.

For a second, I thought it was the wolf in my dream, and I bit down on the
tongue in my mouth.

"Ow!" Sam said, raising his head up off of me and looking down at me.

I sighed, relaxing instantly.  "I'm sorry," I said.  "I was having a bad
dream."

"I know," Sam said.  "I was trying to calm you down."  He lowered his face
back towards mine.  "Don't bite me this time."

He parted my lips with his tongue, and I shut my eyes, letting the
nightmare leave my system completely as his kiss spread throughout my body.

That's when I became aware that my dick was hard and pressed against his
boxers.  Shit.  On reflex, I tried to pull away from him, but he had me
trapped under his weight.

He stopped kissing me for a moment.  "It's alright," he said.  "That's what
woke me up in the first place.  You were sort of dry-humping my leg."

I shut my eyes, completely mortified.  "Sam, I'm sorry.  I was dreaming
about this chick and--"

"You don't have to apologize," he said.  "It's nothing to be embarrassed
about.  It's just a part of your nature, it's who you are.  Don't deny what
God made you."

"Sam, I--"

But he interrupted me with another kiss, his lips tenderly caressing my own
while he began to rub his body up and down against mine.  My dick reacted,
hardening completely as it rubbed against the fabric of his boxers.

My heart started to race, and not in a good way.  I felt a tightening knot
in my stomach--I didn't think Sam was capable of being sexual, and yet,
here he was, trying to get me off.

Suddenly all my asexual images of Sam were shattered.  This was a man above
me, a tall, ripped, strong man kissing me, rubbing against my dick.

I was kissing a man.  It was disgusting, really.  And he was on top of me,
never asking permission, practically forcing himself on me.  Just like--

His hand reached between us and encircled my dick.  I let out a little
gasp--feeling his magical skin against the most sensitive part of my body
was pure ecstasy.  I forgot my misgivings immediately as his hand started
to stroke my dick... I was practically paralyzed from the pleasure of it.  I
let him do as he wanted, loving every sensation, opening my mouth as wide
as possible to better receive his tongue, his kisses.

And then my body began to spasm and I cried out uncontrollably as warm
waves of pleasure rocked through my body.  I shot as much cum as I ever had
before into his waiting hand, knowing that I was experiencing an orgasm ten
times more powerful than anything I had ever felt with any woman.

Sadly, the orgasm passed eventually, bringing me down into a totally
exhausted but relaxed afterglow.

Sam stopped kissing me, looked down at me, smiling happily, his eyes bright
and cheerful--and I realized he must have been wanting to do that for a
long time.  He put his clean hand on my cheek wit fond tenderness.

"I'll be right back," he said as he jumped off me, and went into the
bathroom, my cum still in his hand.  He shut the door and I heard the
faucet running--he must have been cleaning up.

Without his touch against me, the pleasure was fading, and I realized I was
cold, naked in his bed.  The blind assurance that what had just happened
was right because it felt so amazingly good left with Sam, and the impact
of what I had just been doing hit me harder than that bathroom ceiling.

That knot of sick pain in my stomach returned.  I jumped out of bed, threw
my clothes on, and ran out of the hotel room before Sam was even out of the
bathroom.

Feeling ill, anxious sweat pouring down my face, I found the hotel lobby,
made my way into the men's room, and threw up into the first toilet stall I
could make it to.

I flushed the puke down, locked the stall door behind me, and sat down on
the floor, trying to think things through.

What I had just done was wrong and disgusting, I knew.  I had half a mind
to walk right out of there and never look back.

But I needed Sam.  What would I do without him?  Where would I go?  Who
would care about me if not for him?  Nobody.

And he was an angel after all.  Which meant, in spite of what just
happened, he wasn't a bad guy.  We just got a little too carried away,
that's all.  Too carried away.  Probably it would be best if we didn't
touch so much.  If we went back to separate beds.

I cleaned up, and went back to the hotel room.  I didn't want him to read
my thoughts, so I tried to keep them out of my head.

He was dressed and packed when I got walked back in the room.  "Where'd you
run off to?" he asked me.

"Just to see if they had any free food in the lobby," I said.  "They
didn't."

"We'll stop on the way," he said.

"The way to where?"

"To San Diego."  He smiled and patted me on the shoulder.  I couldn't help
but shudder painfully at his touch.  "It's time for you to face your past."

TO BE CONTINUED