Date: Thu, 28 Aug 2014 13:42:16 -0700 From: Zac Lucas Subject: Riley, Ace of Spades, Chapter 1 This story is set in New Zealand and uses NZ English. The age of consent here is sixteen, not eighteen. Riley is fictional; Alex is pretty much myself. Positive comments are welcome. Perhaps if the heavens had not opened at that very moment, I might have driven right by him, intent on arriving home as quickly as possible, given that there were perishables in the back, and I was running later than I had intended. But the molten lead sky had its own agenda: it burst open with a downpour usually reserved for tropical countries, not sub-tropical ones. Within moments, the string of cars in front of me, dabbed on their brakes, and slowed to a safer speed. Silver or grey vehicles flicked park or headlights on low beam; windscreen wipers danced left-right-left... at medium, then rapidly adjusted to high setting. It was then that I noticed him, standing on the shoulder up ahead, thumb out, trying to hitch a ride. Instantly, I thought: you stupid fool. What the hell are you doing out in this crazy weather? But no one else appeared to see him; or rather, care to stop. I checked behind me, then signalled to pull over just past the boy, then waited for him to catch up. Leaned across and flung the door open, as his lanky frame appeared beside it. "Going far?" I all but yelled. He pointed further ahead and said something I couldn't hear above the pelting rain. "Hop in. I'll drop you somewhere a bit better." The boy nodded and flung a small backpack in the footwell, and jack-knifed himself into the passenger seat. Slammed the door closed. I waited till he'd put his belt on, then pulled back out into the traffic. Once underway, he didn't offer much by way of conversation, let alone explain why he was out in dodgy weather. Still, I made small talk. "Great day to be a duck or a dolphin. Too bad if you're not." He nodded, sagely. Okay. That line usually raises a laugh. "I'm Alex, by the way." I offered my hand. He grasped it and gave it a firm, wet shake. "Zander with a zed; sometimes Al, but Alexander only if I'm the dog box. And you are...?" "Riley." "Cool name." "Thanks." "So, Riley – sorry, but I didn't catch where you were headed for. I'm turning off up at Albany if that's of any use to you." He bit his cherry red lip. I waited for a response, but when none was forthcoming, glanced over. His thatch of honey blonde hair flopped over his right eye, but the left deep blue one stared straight back at me, as though defying me to stop the car and throw him out. Rain droplets succumbed to gravity, and continued to drip off his chin, nose and hair. I tore my gaze away, and concentrated on the potentially hazardous driving conditions, before venturing another peek at him. The spray of freckles added to his cute factor, alongside the high cheekbones in his baby face – all of which undoubtedly had people asking for his number, if not the next dance... His light cough brought me out of my daydream. "I... um... I don't have anywhere to go,' Riley was quiet, yet firm. "My family disowned me," he carried on, answering my next question. I shot him a disbelieving look; my mouth forming a 'why?'. "It's for reals," he concluded with a shrug. Going by the fact that he looked one the verge of bursting into tears, he seemed to be telling the truth. "I see," was all I could manage. My mind raced. It beggars belief that so-called parents can do that to their offspring – toss them to the wolves the minute they don't fit their preconceived notion of what a child should be in life; the nuclear-family of two-point-four children, made of sugar and spice, and all things nice... yeah, right. What the hell happened to the right to be brought up, accepted and loved for who you are, not a projection of someone else's misguided – and likely, religious - conditioning, however well intended? I puffed out my cheeks. Riley stared at his long fingers laced in his lap. His small backpack down at his feet didn't have much inside by the looks of it. Well, what of it? He couldn't be much more than about five foot ten – two inches taller than me – but there were probably some spare clothes at the house I could temporarily offer him. "When did this happen?" "Two nights ago. I've been on the road all day." I nodded. "You must be starving." "Nah, I'm okay." He forced a smile, just as his belly grumbled. I chuckled. "That's what you think, mate. Your stomach has other ideas. If I didn't know better, I'd say it's planning an all-out assault." This time, a wan smile crossed his face. I exited the off-ramp for Albany, and guided the hatch through the outer edge of the North Shore suburb, and in time, turned onto a two-lane country road. The rain was easing to a drizzle as we pulled up to the security gate. I thumbed the remote, but the gate didn't whirr into action. Another press on the remote, pointed straight at the small electronics box outside. Still nothing. I smiled at Riley. "Heavy showers do that sometimes. Shorts it out. Would you mind hopping out and doing the honours? You'll see there's a manual trip switch just beneath the box." I gestured at the black device outside. Riley unbuckled himself and darted out to take care of it. As I eased the Swift through the gate, he gave a flourish with one hand, and a mock bow. I smiled and returned a 'royal' wave back. His mouth fell open in astonishment at the sight of the well-manicured property and large house. "All this is yours?" he gasped. I nodded. "Cooool..." he murmured. "Thank you," I replied. "Glad you approve." The grin split his cherubic visage like a shaft of sunlight spearing through turbulent clouds. I mentally shook my head to clear it. Gotta find better metaphors, that's for sure, I thought to myself. Lame... I sprung the boot latch and opened the back door of the hatch. Grabbed as much as I could carry, and was pleased to see that the kid didn't need asking to lend a hand. He bounded ahead of me and leaped up the wooden steps, two at a time. Waited like an eager puppy under the alcove, for me to find the key – arms weighed down with grocery bags. "What are you waiting for? It's not locked." Riley was amazed by this announcement. "Serious?" He asked in disbelief. I caught up to him and pushed my way inside. "Okay, I guess that's for reals, too." Indoors, I plonked the shopping down on the marble kitchen bench. Riley followed suit, then strode behind me as I made my way back out to the car. We managed the remainder between us, and I simply closed the car doors for the time being, and left the vehicle where it was parked. Riley was silent as we returned to the house. In the kitchen, I told him I'd handle the shopping. He needed to get out of his drenched clothes and take a shower, which was next to the room just down the hall on the left. Did he have any spares in his backpack? He shook his head and said they were soaked through as well. So I offered the bathrobe from the guest room; and I'd put his gear in the drier whilst he was having a shower, then fix him something to eat. "Who else is here?" Riley asked as he padded after me down the hallway. "Well, actually a bunch of people live here. This -" I took in the whole house with a sweep of one arm - "is a spiritual retreat. An ashram." He froze. I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. "Don't worry, buddy. We're not Jesus freaks or anything like that, okay?" He bit his lip. "I promise. Trust me on that." Another sage nod. "Good lad." I smiled warmly again, and waved for him to go into the small bathroom. "Take as long as you need, but not forever; we're on tank water out here." "Oh, same at home..." he dried up. Shrugged, then ventured a grin at me. "I can always pedal the bike a bit faster to pump more water, if necessary." I was pleased to see his impish sense of humour matched his facial features. "Nah, no need. Rubbing two sticks together for a fire is much more effective." I ruffled his damp hair. "Enjoy your shower, and I'll see you when you're done." "Okay." I turned to go. He called out: "Alex?" I spun around. He was already peeling off his shirt. His thin frame didn't have any visible marks, which I'd been worried about, but I noticed he didn't turn around, either. His olive skin had a faint happy trail, and that was all, so far as puberty was concerned – or as far as I could see, at any rate. "Thanks for everything. I mean that." It was my turn to give a nonchalant shrug. "Just doing what I can do help a brother out. Gay or straight, makes no difference to me." Instead of refuting it like I half-expected, he poked out his long tongue, and thrust his slender hands on his hips. "I'm bi, bitch." I feigned horror by mock-strangling myself, then grabbed his clothes and took off to the laundry before he could throw something at me. Over a meal of vegetarian lasagne, homegrown salad and boiled potatoes with mint dressing (which he wolfed down), I explained that just five of us currently lived in the ashram. I was house-sitting since they were all away in the States at a big event. The only other occupant was our Tortoiseshell cat, Jazmyne. If she liked Riley, it was a good sign. If not, he'd have to sleep in the barn. Riley nodded. Said he'd had far worse. I answered that I was just kidding about the barn; I don't expect guests to sleep there. They have to keep the possums company in the bush across the small stream. Which likely could flood overnight from the rain. His eyes widened. I kept a straight face for as long as I could, then cracked up laughing. This time, Riley joined in, and it thrilled me to hear the boy's freestyle giggling lighting up the dining room. To all intents and purposes, he seemed a remarkably fine, well-adjusted and smart individual – present circumstances, notwithstanding. During a dessert of raw vegan passionfruit cheesecake and coconut ice-cream, Riley filled me in on some of his past. He had a few thousand dollars sown into the lining in his backpack (I mentally thanked whoever was responsible for changing our currency over from paper to polymer plastic) saved up from paper runs, sweeping up at a few stores after school, selling a handful of items online, and birthday money from his grandmother, as he was her favourite grandchild. He hadn't hiked to her place, as he knew it would be the first place his parents suspected he went when he did a runner yesterday. Assuming they even cared to check. But the police might. I waited as he weighed up how much to tell me. Softly stilled his nervous fingers. Grasped them in mine. Told him to only share as much or as little as he wanted; I wasn't going to force the issue. Again, the wise, considered nod. Then he put his hand over mine, and continued. His mother was actually the one who kick-started his descent into hell. Although she denied it black-and-blue, she had a drug habit, developed from an early addiction to painkillers during her pregnancy with Riley. Initially, innocent enough, of course – a bung nerve in her back which was risky to operate on successfully, but which didn't seem to flare with the right suppressants. That took some time to work out which were okay, and which she reacted to, either with nausea and vomiting, to passing out altogether. So Riley, and his sister April, soon learned to fend for themselves. Stayed out of the way when their mother became a crazy banshee. So far, so normal. But... you should never mix alcohol with drugs, just like the labels warn. Pppft. When did mum ever pay attention to such poppycock as labels and their stupid instructions? Like, never. The worst wasn't even when she started sleeping around when his father was on another three-month furlong in Aussie, down in the mines at Karatha. It was when she was out to it after a fuck or three, and a few of her drunk conquests started coming on to Riley, beginning when he was just seven. Yet again, I wondered how people came to deserve the title of parent, when – in my eyes - they were anything but... and why children – teens like Riley - who seem to have a lot of Light, attract such darkness in their lives. A tear slid down his cheek. I gently broke his grip and silently wiped it with my thumb. He held my hand there, for what felt like an eternity, then slowly released it. Said that he tried to get away, but they only beat him for it, so he tried to become invisible, with laughable results. He soon learned to comply, and actually reached a point where he made them pay him extra for fucking him over, whether just a blowjob, or full-on intercourse. May as well get something out of it, right? I nodded slowly. He gave a snigger. That's the rest of the moolah, in case you were wondering. I said I wasn't, as it was none of my business. In the silence, the timer on the drier chimed again. Gosh, how long had that been pinging, and we'd not heard it? I glanced up and saw that it was dark. Excused myself; retrieved his warm clothes from the laundry, and beckoned him to accompany me down the hall again. This time, I veered off into the other bedroom which has a view overlooking the bush. "Hope you don't mind company." I said. His eyes lit up and he spontaneously hugged me. I pointed to Jazmyne on the edge of the Queen-sized bed, licking her bottom. Riley seemed crestfallen. "Dude, you're privileged. Madam doesn't pick just anyone to share her bed with – you should genuflect with gratitude for a week." His boyish giggle flitted out once more, and he eyed me with a mischievous grin. "Anything you say, Zander. You're the boss." Accompanied with another show of bowing and scraping again. I couldn't help but laugh. "Riley, I totally suck at the whole master-slave thing." "Well, I just suck, hard core, period." Out darted the cheeky tongue. I chucked a pillow at him. "Knew you were gonna say that, shmart arse." He giggled. Bounded over to me again and gave me a long hug. As I looked deep into his Sinatra blues, he kissed me. For a long time. I felt a twitch and stirring in my groin. When we broke off, his eyes were still closed. They fluttered open, and he blushed, then ducked his gaze. By Hermes, that boy was a looker. I moved closer. Lifted his chin with one finger. Tears were sliding down his chiselled cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak, but I shushed it with the same finger. He slowly licked it like a lollipop, then withdrew. Found his voice, but spoke in quiet tones. "I am actually legal, Alex. Just." Like most people, I'd pegged him as being younger than he was. Sixteen but looked twelve, if that. Albeit, a very tall twelve. I beamed. Decided to make light of it. "Me too, kiddo. Me too. 'Night, night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bugs bite. If they do, blame the cat." Riley chuckled, and looked at Jaz who was already curled up asleep. He casually undid the bathrobe I'd loaned him, and tossed it on the back of the bedside chair. His full boner was a sight to behold. He flicked it once against his torso, then gestured to Jaz. "Guess Her Majesty would object if I took care of it in bed right now, huh?" "Not unless you fancy racing strips across your torso, no." He looked at me with a sad smile. Turned around to show me the scars of his 'punishment' administered by his insane mother over the years. I dry-retched. "Oh my God. Riley, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean --" He shook his curls, hard. "It's okay. I know you didn't. You're a kind man, Zander. I know you'd never hurt me or try to take advantage." I was too dumbstruck by what he'd shown me, to reply straight away. Riley broke the spell with a soft giggle as he jumped into bed, bouncing erection and all, yanked the covers up and closed his eyes. I stood there till I heard his breathing change and knew he was asleep, then quietly returned to the kitchen to clean up, prepare the next day's breakfast whilst dwelling on the interesting events of the day. The ashram was accustomed to visitors coming and going, and devotees who might stay a few days to a few weeks or more to have healing from the special energy of the house, the crystals, the bush walks; meditation and chanting evenings, I couldn't help but wonder yet again, at the plan of the Divine who had undoubtedly orchestrated my meeting Riley, and where it would lead next. Whilst I hoped I was as surrendered as possible to 'what is', who knew what unknown factors that boy might possess – or if his past was all he claimed it to be. Never mind the ease with which he'd virtually fitted in to our environment, as though he belonged here, all along. I also couldn't predict what effect his being here would have – not just on me, but on the regular devotees when they returned from their pilgrimage. Time would surely tell.