Date: Thu, 10 Jun 2004 20:52:42 -0500 From: Rhaven Subject: Path of Angels Chapter One This story contains Man/Boy situations. This is a work of pure fiction, words on a page, nothing more than fictional fancy. If you like this story please check out www.rhavenlore.com for more. The Path of Angels By RHAVEN Rain pounded Daniel, striking him like tiny pellets. He lifted his head and tried to look around. So odd, not to remember how you ended up in the middle of the road. Wasn't he just in his car? The flash of lightening illuminated the horrible scene, twisted metal, shattered trees and debris scattered everywhere. Daniel forced himself to sit up, the movement, sent sudden pains through his head and neck. Something was oozing from his forehead, stinging his left eye. It spilled onto his shirt, leaving a dark stain. "Hello? Can anyone help me?" Daniel yelled, despite the overwhelming nausea and pain. So dark, like being in a tomb. If it wasn't for the rain, Daniel wouldn't be sure he was really outside. He had been traveling. Where was he going, what had he been doing in his car? He had been in a car, right? Hadn't tonight been a good night, his artwork premiering at Madre's Art Gallery. Had he been there or was he going there? A voice behind him echoed Daniel's call for help. He forced his body to turn. The scene didn't register, it wasn't real. He was watching a movie. It couldn't be real. The only thing that told Daniel this was a person, was the boy's fear filled eyes. Wrapped in a cocoon of jagged metal, the boy begged Daniel for help. He managed to pull himself closer to the mangled child. Daniel looked around for the boy's parents, how could they have left him alone? Now he heard more hellish moaning. Through the curtain of rain, resting in the muddy ditch, a yellow deformed building. No, not a building, a bus. a school bus. Headlights floated out of the darkness and lit up the nightmare. Daniel didn't want light, only in the darkness was this a dream. A man knelt over him telling him 'everything would be all right'. How could he know that everything would be fine? Didn't he see the horror surrounding them? "What happened?" Daniel whispered. The stranger pressed his hand hard on Daniel's forehead, wincing as he did. "Biggest fucking tornado I've ever seen." CHAPTER ONE I find myself standing in a clearing and looking at paradise. Lake Wakonda, only an hour from my house and I've never visited. It's sad to think that I had to be dragged here kicking and screaming. Rolling hills and a lake so perfect it almost seems unreal. It's been a long time since I've been able to see the beauty of the world. I use to complain about those people who where so blind that they never took the time to appreciate the glory around us. However, maybe that's one of my special gifts, I've always seen perfection in even the most mundane things. Well, perhaps that should be put in the past tense. My wonderful rainbow filled world, has been tarnished. The color was ripped from my reality and I didn't miss it. I should have missed it; I should have fought to get it back. But there was no more energy left in me, for this battle. That was why my desperate, but loving manager has abandoned me here. Kathy, that sweet caring woman, who has been by my side since the tragedy, who knows me better than I would like, sees this vacation as my salvation. "I miss the old Daniel." She had told me, a spear to the heart. I missed the old 'me' too, but sometimes, you become so lost, that the road back seems impossible. I was lost; the problem was I didn't want to come back. Though I have to admit, standing here looking out across Lake Wakonda, my problems seem so small, maybe I can save myself here, if not that, I would settle for just a moment without the nightmares. Before Kathy left, she let me know that all my art supplies where in the cabin. I haven't picked up a paint brush in a year. It's obscene for me to say such a thing. Maybe you have to be an artist to understand why that is so disgraceful. Painting was my life. In the word 'life', there isn't a way for me to describe how all encompassing that word is. My life, only truly living when painting, creates my world, my family, and my children on canvas. In reality, I am a bachelor, forever single, with no living relatives to spend those special holidays with. However, my art, that was my family, even when sold and taken from me. In my mind, that artwork was always with me. To go a year without creating, without having my impulsive inspirations, is a sin against my heart and soul. So twisted I remain, my mind in constant conflict, wanting to paint, fearing my skill, wishing to hide away forever and dreaming of living again. If only I could grab the remote control and switch off my emotions. The cabin is nice, almost a paradox of nature and technology. It's the first time I've done something like this, not just the cabin, but isolating myself from the city life. I grew up in the city; the streets were my playground, never knowing what I was missing. The first thing I notice about the cabin is that the television can't pick up any stations. The bookcase full of DVD's tells me that movies are my only entertainment. In my old life, that wouldn't have mattered, but this last year I have become a TV addict. It was going to be difficult to wean myself from Seinfeld, Friends and all the other little sitcoms. Luckily, Kathy has also left me with a stack of books to read. Looking over the titles, it's apparent on exactly how well Kathy does know me. It's not a complete shock, seeing all these books with a boy or boys as the main characters. Kathy would have had to be a drooling idiot not to know exactly what I am. After all, the majority of my paintings are of boys. My most famous painting is 'On High', a surreal portrait of a boy I knew in my childhood. Naked and hovering above the earth, surrounded by heavenly angels, it was how I remembered him, my hero, and my first love. The painting brought me fame. It still amazes me that others relate to the emotions expressed on the canvas. No one knew the story behind the painting, I told any who asked from where my inspiration came, that it was the representation of purity. It was a good lie, confusing most into silent nods of mock understanding. My pride now focused on my new exhibit. New, isn't right, something over a year ago isn't new. This was my crowning work, a theme project on the different expressions of love. It was the first time I had used a live model to create my ideas. Zachary was the perfect model. I've never met a boy so mature, so conscious of the power his body possessed. Zachary was the artist's dream and my dream. Now my nightmare. Thinking of the paintings brings up those pains of loss, I force my mind to close the door to Zachary and focus on my art. It has become too easy to lock Zachary from my mind, but I don't think about that. I miss painting; I miss the toiling and fretting over a blank canvas. However, the inspiration that has driven me into this profession is lacking. It would be a story without characters to start painting now. Actually, my fear was, I had become stagnant, a year swimming in pity, had left me with little room for other emotions. Yes, it was emotion that created my art, love, sadness, joy and contentment were my drive, my master artiste. Without these, I was just a man of no intention. The cabin is impressive, all the convenience of home, without being home. Large kitchen, stocked nicely with everything from frozen steak to my favorite snack; Pringles. On the kitchen counter I find a cell phone with the note telling it's for emergencies only, I have to laugh at that. The bedroom is fit for a king; Kathy had even filled the closet with new summer clothes for me. I find a comfortable looking pair of shorts and t-shirt. No surprise on the cozy fit of the new clothes. I have to smile at my bohemian ways, wearing the shorts without the protective security of underwear, made me feel like a child again. I hate to admit that Kathy was right; I did need to get away from the city, the change of scenery was exactly what my eyes and heart desired. My first day at Lake Wakonda ended with the peace of birds and crickets, their songs penetrating into my troubled consciousness. I dread the nighttime more than anything else in this world. No matter how well I felt during the day. My dreams betrayed me, abused my will to recover. I now only sleep when exhaustion consumes me. However, the first night at Lake Wakonda, I was fooled into false comfort and went to bed at the first signs of darkness. The dreams are horrific, physically draining and terrorizing. I woke up covered in sweat, trying to suck in air to fill my deflated lungs. The dreams never stop, will never stop. How many times must I relive that moment on the highway? My hand makes it way to the long crooked scar across my forehead. It's the burden I wear for all to see. There' s no reason to attempt sleep again. Thank God, for Kathy and her foresight, I rummage through the stack of books and decided on one called The Persian Boy. If I wasn't able to dive into a book, I would have stared out the window until dawn. It would have been awful, reflecting upon my life and my losses. The book allowed me to forget who I was, forcing the words from the page to dominate my mind. Morning finds me on the couch, naked still reading the book. The truth is, the only reason I feel comfortable enough to remain nude, was the fact that Kathy swore to me, that she would not return for four weeks. Only this security of privacy, allowed me to display my privates so arrogantly. I have no problem with nudity; I love it, especially when it's someone else who is nude. I just prefer that my nudity be my choice in who will see. No one has seen me nude in years and it would probably be more years, if ever, before another living being even wanted to see me naked. "Oh my god." I said aloud, finally noticing the view from my window. I found my shorts and headed outside. The sun slowly rose over the distant hills, painting the sky in purple and gold. The transparent clouds in a halo of yellow, celebrating the birth of another morning. I took my book outside and sat down on one of the lounge chairs on the porch. Though it was the beginning of summer, the air was chilled, but I didn't mind. The cold was relaxing, too relaxing. I woke up to the sound of laughter. Two things surprised me. well actually three things. First, that the sun was high in the sky, which meant I had fallen asleep. Secondly, I didn't have any nightmares. But the third was more amazing than the fact I had my first peaceful sleep in a year. Five boys walked passed my porch, dressed only in swimming suits and towels slung over shoulders, I had to rub my eyes twice to make sure this wasn't a dream. "Hello there." An older woman approached me, with my eyes glued to the boys; I hadn't even noticed her until she was already on my porch. "Hope you don't mind. but this is the only path to the lake." "No problem." I said standing and putting my book to the side. "All these yours?" I gestured towards the boys; actually, I was trying my best to delay their departure. It had been so long since I had seen so many half-naked boys together; I didn't want it to end too quickly. Each boy was unique, physically fit and beautiful. It was as if someone had searched the world for these angels. The boys stood together and whispered, eyeing me with eyes of wonder and mischievousness. "Heavens no, these are my students. I'm Doctor Ethel Coyer." "Daniel Caruso." Dr. Coyer shook my hand again; she had the grip of a wrestler. "I've brought the boys here for some R & R; nothing heals the soul better than Lake Wakonda. What brings you up here Daniel?" "Basically the same thing." One of the boys, with long blonde disheveled hair, stepped next to Dr. Coyer and whispered something into her ear. His wide grin made me blush. There was just the slightest change in Dr. Coyer's face, but enough for me to know the boy recognized me. Did he know me from my art or from the tornado? That was the question I didn't want answered. "Boys come here and introduce yourself." Dr. Coyer said recovering her wide smile, averting her eyes from the savage scar on my forehead. With all the boys around me, shaking my hand, I truly didn't have a care in the world. It's amazing how a boy's innocence and beauty can absorb all my negative thoughts, leaving me with contentment. There was Rudy, the fire red head and freckled, the shortest of the boys, but definitely had the biggest smile. Jaron with dirty blonde hair, a surfer's stance, the only one wearing cut-off jeans, which hung very low on his hips. There was also Edwin and Edgar, twins with shaved heads and chocolate skin, each movement, and each emotion displayed in unison as if choreographed. But it was the boy Sandy, the one who first approached Dr. Coyer that drew my attention, it wasn't his uncombed blonde hair, or his delicate thin body that amazed me. There was something about his eyes, as if he could see inside my soul and I his. I wondered if he sees the same sadness, I could see within him. Though the more I think about it, perhaps my attention was drawn to him for the fact he was the only one wearing a speedo. It hugged him so tightly; it could have easily been painted on. Dr. Coyer broke my reverie by saying, "Boys, this is Daniel Caruso the famous artist. We saw his artwork at Madre's Art Gallery." My heart pounded at the name of the gallery. That was Zachary's art. Please God, don't let them ask me about Zachary. "Mr. Caruso, could you join us in a swim?" Sandy asked me. His politeness and sweet voice surprised me. I looked to Dr. Coyer, I still wasn't clear in who she was, how in what manner the boys were her students. I hated to intrude, but Dr. Coyer nodded and asked me the same question, which was echoed by the other boys. I loved the begging, it seemed so sincere, as if the boys couldn't go swimming if I didn't agree. I cracked a smile and nodded. "I'll need to change into a swimming suit." I said and rushed for the door. Then it occurred to me I was making the group wait. "Please come in, I won't be but a minute." I gestured the group into my cabin and then ran to my bedroom. I left the group in the living room, standing awkwardly, waiting on a stranger they had just meant. I hope that Kathy had bought me something to swim in, so far, she had thought of everything. A quick dig into the dresser produced black swimming trunks. I say a silent prayer to my sweetheart Kathy and slip on the new trunks. I grab an armload of beach towels from the cabinet in the bathroom and rejoin the strangers in my living room. "I'm afraid you have a problem Mr. Caruso." Dr. Coyer informed me as I approached the group. "I'm sorry?" It's my guilty conscious to assume everyone knows my sins. My first reaction was to run, screaming into my room. I can be a freak sometimes, luckily I remained still. "The boys do not have a television set in their cabin. the temptation has over stimulated their reasoning." The woman giggled, snorting like a cartoon pig. "You sure have a lot of movies here." Sandy cocked his head and smiled at me. A seductive grin made my knees buckle. "You're all welcome to watch movies anytime, if that's all right with you Dr. Coyer." The older woman puckered out her lips and looked towards the boys. "It is your decision, Mr. Caruso." "Can we go swimming now?" The boy named Jaron said pulling up his cut off jeans, only to have them slip further down his firm hips. "My door is always opened." I said grinning and then turned to Jaron. "Let's go swimming." I announced like a king to his subjects. Dr. Coyer and I followed the boys down the path to the lake. The boys cheered and threw their towels on the narrow beach and dived into the smooth water. All that is, except Jaron who jerked off his jeans and folded them neatly and handed me his jeans and towel. I must have looked to fool, trying not to stare at the nude boy and take his bundle. "Come on Mr. Caruso!" Jaron yelled as he joined his friends in the water. "You. you go ahead." I said blushing. Dr. Coyer spread out her towel and sat down. "You'll have to excuse Jaron, he's our resident nudist." Dr. Coyer snorted again. "No problem, it's nice to see someone with no inhibitions. Dr. Coyer could I ask what it is you do with the boys? Are you a teacher?" "I'm their psychiatrist. I work at the Promise House." "I'm sorry, what's the Promise House?" As I talked with Dr. Coyer, I couldn't help but watch the boys play. "The Promise House is an advanced educational program; we work with children with emotional problems. My boys have done so well this year, I decided to reward them with a trip here. Plus, it helps to let them feel like normal boys." "That's nice. I could have used something like that when I was growing up." I lied; in fact, I really wasn't listening to the woman. I was watching Sandy with his hand of Jaron's bare ass. "The boys here are orphans, Mr. Caruso." Dr. Coyer said very seriously. "They've had a touch life and have worked very hard to make it this far. That is why this vacation, they have no rules." I heard Dr. Coyer this time and saw the boys in a new light. I couldn 't imagine what it was like to be an orphan. "I'm sorry, what do you mean 'no rules'?" I asked as the twins Edwin and Edgar tried to pull off Rudy's swimming suit. "I'm not here to supervise the boys; they have their own cabin and are here to just have fun. Think of it as summer camp without the counselors." "That sounds a bit odd and dangerous." I blurted out without thinking. "Aren't they a bit young to be left on their own?" Dr. Coyer giggled again and slapped me on the knee. "I guess most would think the same, but for the boys this is a chance for freedom. All they know is rules. Think of how exhilarating this is for them. Plus, I must admit a bit of selfishness, I too need some freedom. I intend to hibernate in my cabin and not resurface for four weeks." I nodded and gave Dr. Coyer a comforting smile. "I plan to leave the boys on their own after today. which is why I've told you all this." This statement made me lose my smile. "What do you mean?" I asked nervously. "I'm afraid you have opened Pandora's Box. You have invited the boys into your cabin. there may be no peace for you the rest of the summer." "Oh." I said relieved, I've always had this fear that a psychiatrist would be able to look into my soul and see the dark evil there. "I don 't mind the company." "I agree, I know your story Mr. Caruso, I think the boys will be very good for your recovery." With that, Dr. Coyer turned from me and watched the boys frolic in the shallow water. I began to wonder, had my manager Kathy planned for this. Did she somehow know the boys would be here and hoped I would hook up with them? Maybe I was imagining too much out of all this, a chance meeting of grand luck only. However, in the back of my mind, that voice, the one I wish I could lock away forever, told me it was too soon. It told me to run from these boys and continue in my penance.