Date: Tue, 06 Jan 2004 23:53:28 -0500
From: Jeff Wilson <vicioussquirrel@hotmail.com>
Subject: W.A.R. Part Five, Chapter 9

			W.A.R. Part Five - Secrets

		    Chapter Nine -- The End of the Road

			      by Jeff Wilson


     Brett's mom was indeed pissed off when she got home.  When she first
saw him, she gasped in terror.  Brett's face was bruised and he could
barely open his eyes.  But Brett and I told her all about what happened,
and Brett asked her to just leave it alone.  She thanked me for staying
with him and then asked me to leave.  I walked back home and spent the
night tossing and turning thinking about what had happened.

     Neither Brett nor Dustin were in school the next day.  Dustin hadn't
been seen at school for almost two weeks, and I figured that Brett's mom
would keep him at home.  I told Miss Winston what happened.  She was really
surprised that Dustin would do such a thing.

     "That's unbelievable, Billy."  Miss Winston said.

     "He was really beat up badly."  I replied.  "I thought Dustin would be
glad that Brett told.  I never expected Dustin to hurt him."

     "It's hard to admit that something like that is happening to you.
It's even harder when you don't have control over how it comes out."

     "I guess we all have things we don't want people to know about us."  I
said.  Suddenly, I felt a little more defensive.

     "I wish I would have known.  I would have turned in that asshole in a
heartbeat, if I didn't kill him first."  Miss Winston said.  I'd heard her
use hard language before, but it was still a surprise to hear when she used
it.

     "It wasn't that simple.  I knew for a long time and I couldn't tell.
I mean, you can see what's happened because of it.  It's like the very
worst things that could happen, happened.
  Dustin's embarrassed and Brett's beat up.  I knew something bad was going
to happen when it all came out.  I guess I just got too good at keeping
secrets."

     "It's hard to keep things secret, isn't it?"

     "Nah… All you have to do is keep your mouth shut."  I said.

     "No, not that.  I mean what it does to you, on the inside.  Billy, I
went through that for so long.  Always being just a little ambiguous and
hiding who I am.  It's a tough life we lead."

     "Miss Winston, can I ask you something?"  I said.

     "You can ask, but I don't have to answer."  She said, smiling.

     "Do people treat you different?  Since you… well… Since everybody
knows now?"

     "You mean since I stopped hiding the fact that I'm a lesbian?  No.  I
found that just about everyone that I was afraid would turn on me ended up
knowing anyway.  My family, my friends, they weren't surprised.  People who
didn't even know me very well sort of knew.  It was more of a relief than
anything."

     "So it didn't really surprise anyone?"

     "Billy, you're going to find out that the people who know you really
do know you, and the people who hate you for being gay aren't really your
friends anyway."

     "Whoa… Wait a second.  I didn't say that I was gay.  Even if I am, I'm
just saying… Well… I mean… Oh… Shit."

     "It's alright, Billy."

     "The hell it is!"  I snapped.  "Fuck.  I didn't want you to know about
it.  I didn't want anybody to know.  It's my god damn business, understand?
It's my life!  I don't want people to find out about me.  It's bad enough
that my dad knows about me.  And he was cool with it.  Well I'm not!  I
don't want to be a fag!  I don't want to be gay!  I can't help it, okay?  I
can't help it that I love Brett.  I can't stop it.  I didn't start it.  It
just happened and it's not fucking fair!"

     I had seen Miss Winston angry at volleyball lots of times, but it was
never directed at me, and this time, she was furious.  "You want to know
what's not fair, Billy?  Twenty-five years of hiding isn't fair.  Having
the people in this town make my sex life a topic at the dinner table isn't
fair.
  Having the school board question my intentions when I took over the
volleyball job wasn't fair.  You don't know what unfair is, Mr. Roberts.
I, and others like me went through hell so kids like you wouldn't have to!"

     "Well what do you want me to do?"  I shouted.

     "I want you to be able to be yourself, without hiding!  I want you to
realize that it's not the end of the world that you're gay.  I want you to
be able to say it without feeling like the world's worst monster."

     "Well that's not going to happen, okay?  It's not!  I'm not going to
be your goddamn project.  'Oh, let's see if little Billy doesn't get his
brains bashed in like Brett did.'  Fuck that!"

     "You know that's not what I want for you.  No one wants that."

     "I'm not telling people."  I said stubbornly.

     "I never said you had to.  People already know.  It's just like having
those green eyes, Billy.  It's a part of who you are.  Sure there are some
people who would make fun of you.  You might get called a 'fag' or someone
might do something to hurt you.  But compared to what it used to be like,
you'll be just fine.  And you'll graduate top of the class and go to a
great college and get a great job and you're going to make a difference in
this world.  I know that, because I know you."

     "So how long did you know about me?"  I grumbled.

     "I don't know...  I guess it's just something about you.  You're
special, Billy.  Everyone knows that.  If there's anything, ever, that I
can do to help you… Please, don't be afraid to come to me.  If you need
money, you can work on my farm.  If you need someone to talk to, anything,
I'll be here for you."

     "I should have said something about Dustin.  I should have told.  I
know it's not my fault that he got abused, but I could have helped."

     "Billy, Dustin's a good actor.  He can put on the best act of
everything being hunky-dory that I've ever seen.  You are his friend.  He's
depended on you all along, and he needs you now more than ever.  Don't get
angry at him for being angry.  He can't deal with what's happened on his
own.  And in his mind, he's spent so much time defending his dad that he's
not going to stop now.  That's why he beat up Brett.  We know who that
beating was meant for."

     "Well why did he take it out on Brett?  Brett saved him."

     "Because he can't take it out on his father, Billy.  Not yet anyway.
This is not going to be easy.  All you can do is what you've been doing.
Be his friend."  Miss Winston smiled at me.  I smiled back weakly.  I
didn't feel much like smiling, but it did make me feel a little better.
Miss Winston opened her desk and pulled out a plain blue folder.  She
handed it to me.

     "What's this?"  I asked.

     "Billy, I know that you probably wouldn't want to join, but you do
know that I sponsor our Gay and Lesbian Alliance here at school."

     "You're right.  I wouldn't want to join.  Sorry.  My mother would
flip.
  Thanks though."  I handed the folder back.

     Miss Winston didn't take the folder back.  "I'm not asking you to
join.
  You want your privacy and I more than understand that.  I just wanted to
make sure that you and Brett have some information."

     "What, about sex?  Shoot, we already know about that."  I said.

     "Well, there's some information about that, and how to deal with
parents and friends.  You might find something useful in it.  Well, our
time is almost up.  Billy, don't forget.  If you ever need anything,
anything at all, just ask."

     "I will."  I said.  "Miss Winston… umm… thanks."

     "Anytime."

     Brett returned to school on Wednesday, raccoon eyes and all.  Nobody
asked him if he was getting abused at home like I got when I had the broken
arm.  I guess since he's probably got forty pounds more muscle than his mom
had something to do with that.  He was quite pleased last year when he
passed her up in height.  But at 5'9" he still ended up as one of the
shortest boys in the class.  Not that having me be two inches taller than
him bothered him.  He was more disappointed that Dustin ended up 6'1".  He
was really hoping to pass up Dustin, and I guess it would have helped him
when Dustin beat him up.

     Dustin missed the whole week of school again.  I tried to call, but
there was never an answer at his house.  And when I tried to visit, there
was no one home.  Mike said that he hadn't seen Dustin or Mrs.  Smith since
the night she tried to kill Mike with the monitor.  Since then, he had been
busy working on opening a new computer shop in Belle Vernon.  I didn't
worry too much about it.  I was sure that they were very busy with
Mr. Smith being held in jail.  Funny… Now two of my friends have fathers
that are in jail… I never mentioned that to anyone though.

     When Saturday came, my dad told me that he was going to take me to a
special job in Washington.  I figured that since he was now paying me for
my services that I'd go along without complaining.  As we drove along
interstate 70, He would quiz me about all of the different signs and
various traffic facts.  I answered everything correctly, even knowing about
the blood alcohol limit.

     "Sounds like you know all of this stuff."  Dad said.

     "Yeah, I do now."  I said.

     "So what's the problem then?" he asked.

     "I don't know, dad.  I just freeze up."

     "You freeze up?  Why?  It's just like any other test.  You don't do
that for other things."

     "But this is different."

     "No.  It's just like any other test.  I'd bet you've had harder
physics tests.  And another thing… You better be ready because I don't have
any job today and this was all an excuse to get you to the driver's center
without giving you time to get nervous."  Dad laughed and turned off on the
exit that led to the driver's center.

     "What?"  I asked, a sudden panic gripping me.

     "You just go in there and do the same thing you did with me.  You know
what you're doing.  I believe in you, boy.  If I didn't, I wouldn't have
brought you here."

     "But, dad…"

     "Billy… You can do this."  We pulled into the drivers center again.
Dad was pissed off that people had used all of the handicapped spaces and
didn't have cards or stickers and he made sure to report "those assholes"
to the policeman that was walking out to do the road tests for the day.
When we walked inside, my mouth lost every last bit of liquid.  I had
already bombed twice.  I was quite happy last week when mom forgot to ask
me if I wanted to go.  I didn't want to fail three times.  I'd walk the
rest of my life, I didn't care.

     Dad had brought in a magazine about fishing with him and was totally
relaxed, much more than mom had been, complaining about snow and how long
it was taking.  They called my number and I stood up.  Dad whacked my butt
with his cane and told me I could do it.  I felt like I was heading toward
my execution.  The officer at the desk was the same as the last two times,
and he didn't seem to remember me until he saw my name.

     "Oh, William Roberts!  Back again, eh?" he said cheerfully.  I nodded.
We did the vision test, again.  And I gave him the social security card and
birth certificate that dad had hidden from me until we got to the center.
Then he pointed me to the dreaded computer again.

     There was the familiar question about what state I'm in.  I almost
answered Michigan.  Then there was a question about slick roads.  The
dreaded train crossing question, which I got right.  A question about
changing lanes.  A question about stoplights, and the ever-so-much fun
blood alcohol question.  Then there was a question about tailgating and
suddenly the test was over.

     "I did it…" I said to myself.  "I passed."  I sat there, staring at
the screen for a minute or so in disbelief.  "I can't believe it.  I got
every question right."  I stood up and walked over to the officer at the
desk.  "Good job!  It's about time."  He said, laughing.  He told me asked
to wait for a moment, so I did.  After a minute or so, He handed me a print
out.

     "Here's your learner's permit.  Remember, you need fifty hours of road
experience and six months before you take the road test.  Good luck,
William."

     "Thanks a lot!"  I said, happily.  I walked out to dad and showed him
my permit.

     "Fantastic, son!  I told you that you could do it.  You're driving us
somewhere to eat."  He said.

     I couldn't have been happier to finally have my hands on the steering
wheel of the car.  Dad wanted me to get some country road experience, so we
took every back and side road from Washington to Donora.  He could have had
me go on the interstate, but he didn't want me to tackle that until I was
ready.  When we made it home, the sun was already setting.  Mom was not
surprised when I showed her my permit.  It turned out that she was the one
who convinced dad to take me.

     Mom left around seven o'clock to work night shift at the hospital.  As
soon as she left, dad made a suggestion.

     "I'm going to go out for a while, Billy.  Why don't you head over to
Brett's and show him what you got."  He said.

     "Where are you going?"  I asked.

     "I'll tell you when I get back.  You go.  We'll meet back here at nine
o'clock."

     "Okay."  I said.  I got on my coat and headed towards the path.  It
was dark, so I brought my flashlight along.  I walked with an extra spring
in my step, as I hadn't been so happy in quite a while.  I really never
thought that I would pass that test.  I was looking forward to the day when
I wouldn't have to use this crummy old path anymore, and I could drive
where I wanted to go.  I made it to the top of the hill where you could see
Dustin's house and all of the lights of the town.  I turned my light off,
so I could see the town more clearly on the cold clear night.  I stood
there on top of the hill, taking a piss on a beer can and enjoying the
sights of my neighborhood.  Donora wasn't the greatest, but it was home and
that was good enough for me that night.

     I turned on my flashlight, expecting to continue on my way, when I saw
a shadow against the trees.  I turned my light toward Dustin's place, and
nearly jumped out of my skin.  There lay Dustin, laying on his back by his
stump.  It looked like he had fallen asleep then fallen off the stump.  I
wondered if he had been there the whole time, and I felt a little
embarrassed that I'd peed there in front of him.

     "Hey Dustin!"  I called.  But Dustin didn't wake up.  I walked toward
him and a strong odor of beer filled the air.  I walked closer and could
see that there were beer cans scattered all over the place.  It looked as
if Dustin had thrown them all over.  I walked a little closer.  "Dustin?"
I said, my voice barely a whisper as I spoke.  Then I noticed the blood.

		    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A lot of stuff happening in this one, and yet I have a feeling that most
people will remember the last two paragraphs the most.  And I'm not going
to say a thing about them just yet.

Any thoughts or comments on this or any other chapter?  Let me know!

                        vicioussquirrel@hotmail.com or
jkwsquirrel@yahoo.com

I also have the yahoo group you can join!  Here's that address:

                                 
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/squirrelwriter

Next Chapter: Dustin's Revenge