Uncaged
By Wes
Leigh featuring the contributions of Rob the Scribe
This is a work of fiction intended
solely for the entertainment of our readers; any resemblance to any real people
or places is purely coincidental. Readers who would like to chat are encouraged
to contact us at weston.leigh@protonmail.com and
robthescribe@protonmail.com.
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Erin Masters smiled when RJ walked into her classroom. She
waved at him and called him over to her desk.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Masters," he said, ducking his head
shyly.
"Hello, RJ. I wanted you to know that your essay on the
tightrope walker was incredible. You are a very good writer, and I hope you'll
keep it up."
He nodded but kept his eyes on his feet. "I love writing. It
lets me escape into a different world."
"I can tell," she replied, pulling a paper off her desk and
offering it to RJ. "Here's something you might be interested in trying. The
Rotary Club is holding a contest. They want 1800- to 2000-word essays on any
subject you choose. The only requirement is to be original and creative. I
think you would do very well at that."
RJ finally looked up and smiled. "Yes, ma'am. I'll try." He
took the paper and returned to his desk, reading it over carefully. His mind
drifted away, considering the possible worlds he might describe.
͠ ͠ ͠
Stephen McDermott threw the last of his
sandwich at Jake Collins. Jake's twin brother Justin laughed when it hit Jake
in the ear. Jake picked it up and threw it back at Stephen, who dodged at the
last minute. The now tattered bit of sandwich hit Toby Brewer in the back of
the head.
"Hey!" Toby objected. "Cut it out!"
"Yeah, Jake. Cut it out!" Stephen said,
laughing. "You faggots done eating yet?"
"I'm done," Justin said, tossing the rest of
his lunch in a trashcan. "This stuff tastes like shit anyway."
The other boys stood up and gathered around
Stephen. "Still got another 10 minutes until fifth period. Whacha
wanna do, Stevie?" Toby asked.
"What else?" Stephen asked with a nasty
leer. "Pick on the eighth graders!"
The other boys laughed and slapped each
other on the back.
Stephen looked around. "There's one now." He
pointed across the red-brick courtyard. Sitting alone, staring off into space
was RJ. "This should be fun," Stephen said, grinning.
RJ didn't notice the four ninth-graders
until they were almost on top of him. They surrounded him quickly, giving him
nowhere to escape. He gulped nervously and ducked his head. He refused to look
at the bigger boys, hoping they would leave him alone and walk away.
Stephen studied the slightly overweight boy
in front of him. He shook his head in disgust. "Nothing worse than a fat little
fag, stuffing his face and getting fatter and fatter."
The other three boys snickered.
RJ stared at Stephen's feet.
"What do you have for dessert, fag boy?"
Stephen asked, taking RJ's lunch sack out of his hands and dumping the contents
on the ground. All that remained was a sandwich bag with two chocolate chip
cookies. "Look, guys," Stephen said, pointing. "The queer is eating cookies."
Stephen put his foot on top of the bag of
cookies and ground them into the red brick of the courtyard, turning them into
a plastic bag full of crumbs.
"Oops," Stephen said. The other boys
laughed. A large crowd began to gather, curious to see what the fuss was about.
RJ stared at the crumpled cookies and tried
not to cry. He couldn't let them know how scared he was. He couldn't let them
know his secret. It was bad enough, being picked on like this, but it would be
worse if they know about the rest of it.
Stephen grabbed RJ by the front of his shirt
and lifted him to his feet. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, fag boy!"
"What's going here?" The voice behind
Stephen was angry and deep.
Stephen turned around and saw a muscular man
pushing through the crowd of students. He released RJ, who fell onto the bench,
shaking. Peeking up nervously, RJ saw that it was Roderyk who had confronted
the gang of ninth graders. Roderyk stood nearby, his arms crossed, waiting for
an answer.
"I asked you a question," Roderyk said. "What
are you doing?"
Stephen swallowed nervously. The man didn't
look like a teacher. Teachers had to wear badges. He was probably a parent,
bringing something his kid forgot at home.
Stephen shrugged. "Nothing. Just talking."
"It didn't look like that to me," Roderyk
replied, squinting at the boys.
Toby pulled at Stephen's shirt sleeve. "Bell's
gonna ring soon. We better take off."
"Yeah," Stephen agreed. "Let's go." But
before he left, he turned and gave RJ a glare that promised more trouble later.
Stephen felt a hand gripping his shoulder in a powerful grasp. He turned and
tried to pull away, but Roderyk's hand held him firmly.
Roderyk turned Stephen around to face him,
then released his shoulder. Roderyk's voice was icy cold as he warned, "If I
hear that there have been problems here, I won't be happy. I don't like bullies."
Stephen backed away quickly, turned, and ran
to catch up with his friends.
Roderyk turned to RJ. "Are you okay?"
RJ nodded, then frowned in confusion. "What
are you doing here?"
"Bringing you this," Roderyk replied,
handing RJ the information sheet on the church's upcoming lock-in. "I didn't
know where you lived, but Auntie said you attended this school. I hope you
don't mind that I came."
RJ shook his head and smiled bashfully at
Roderyk. The weird lights were back, surrounding Roderyk with a glowing aura. None
of the other students seemed to notice, so RJ didn't say anything. He took the
paper from Roderyk, thanked him, and headed for the building.
͠ ͠ ͠
That night in his bedroom, RJ sat at his desk, flipping
through a thesaurus, looking for just the right words to use in his essay for
the contest. Iridescent. That was a good word. He'd never used it before, but
it sounded right. He added it to the story, then leaned back and read what he
had crafted in a few short hours...
INCUBUS
I had to grin. All right, if that's what he wanted.
In front of my inner eye I formed my body for this night. I created a
middle-aged man. Dark hair, curly and short. I continued to listen eagerly.
Aha, eyes bright blue and covered by wire-rimmed glasses. A little taller than
him. Strong, with hints of muscle. This also presented no problem. Now the
clothes. Black jeans, black shirt. My dreamer probably liked it simple.
I opened my eyes. Finally, a body again. Many times, I
had heard my brothers talk about physical shells. Most felt it as a burden. As
something inevitable that just had to be endured. I, on the other hand, saw it
very differently. This body, this shell was a gift. A dreamer's gift to me. As
outstanding as my actual existence was, for me nothing beat the ability to
touch or smell something. How much I envied humans for this gift. That feeling
alone was worth my frequent trips through the veil.
Now it was time to find my human. I leisurely walked across the red-paved
schoolyard, my eyes constantly wandering around. He had to be here somewhere.
Finally something caught my eye. While I didn't know much about human society,
something wasn't quite right here. I was absolutely sure of that. A remote
corner of the schoolyard had changed. Unlike everywhere else, it was pitch
black. Thick storm clouds gathered above. Lightning struck the ground again and
again. I had to find out what was going on. A large crowd of students, at least
fifty or more, had formed around something, so I couldn't see what was going on
in their midst. What was it? I had to get closer.
Then I saw. This was the source of my dreamer's
restless sleep. Inside the crowd I found a boy surrounded by four huge, dark
figures. Lightning struck right at his feet. I couldn't tell who the shadow men
were because their faces were covered by black masks. They yelled at the boy.
Their voices dripped with contempt and disgust. Whenever the boy flinched,
their screams got louder. He wouldn't last much longer. He was already sitting
slumped against the wall with his hands in front of his face. I felt sorry for
him. He certainly didn't deserve all this. I could only guess why his dreams
had brought him here.
As if he could sense that something had changed with my arrival, he looked up
and looked straight at me. Even in his desperation he still looked beautiful.
His pale blue eyes were clouded by thick tears that ran down plump cheeks. The
dark brown, parted hair was slightly tousled. Unlike me, he was overweight. I
could see slight curves under his shirt. But what captivated me the most were
his sad eyes.
Now it was show time. I couldn't let the boy suffer any longer. It only took a
split second to gather the power within me. My consciousness expanded, entering
the deepest recesses of my dreamer. Connected completely with his world of
thoughts, from that moment I took command.
Slowly I approached the dark monsters. Iridescent colors surrounded me as my
aura flared. I brought the light. The shadowy figures writhed in pain as the
bright glow hit them. They were stubborn. Didn't want to give up yet. One went
for me. Hands turned into tentacles that tried to wrap themselves around me. With
a single thought, I summoned a sword. Quickly, faster than the eye could see, I
drew back and struck. Once, twice, three times. Severed body parts lay around
me. It was too much for this thing. It broke up with screams of pain.
I looked at the others, challengingly. Would they give up? Was my dreamer's
fear too deep to just disappear like that? Instead of dissipating, the
manifestations attacked me almost simultaneously. The intensity of their attack
distressed even me. Rarely has it been so difficult to get through to a person
in such fear and pain, but retreating was out of the question.
Again and again, I dodged their attacks. It couldn't go
on like this forever. I finally had to go on the offensive, but I had to change
tactics to do that. The sword was definitely not the right weapon. I would need
something more powerful here. Without giving the blade a second thought, I
dropped it. Instead, I stretched out my arms, letting sparks of pure light form
in front of me. The sparks gathered and grew. They swarmed around the dark
ones, driving them back.
Next, my gaze slid to the sky where lightning was still
flashing. In my mind, I pushed the clouds aside. The flashes disappeared. A
bright sun took its place. However, that was not enough. My spirit accessed and
condensed the blazing rays of the star. Then I brought it down with full force
on the three shadows in front of me. With wild screams they passed.
I looked around, a bit exhausted. The students had disappeared.
Only the boy was there. He looked at me gratefully.
"Who are you?" he asked in surprise.
"I'm Angelus," I answered without thinking. I have used this name
since my very first excursion. It was given to me by a dreamer and somehow it
seemed right to use it.
"My name is Jackson. Thanks for your help. They
cornered me. I wanted to fight back, but I couldn't. It was like I couldn't
move."
I nodded understandingly. I had heard that from many of my humans. They were
rigid and motionless; inevitably at the mercy of their tormentors.
"Do you want to know what those guys wanted from me?"
I shook my head slowly. I knew it. From the moment I fully connected to
Jackson's mind, I knew. The shadow men represented his fear. The fear of being
discovered. Jackson feared nothing more than being found out that he liked
boys. The fear of persecution was greater than the desire to live in freedom.
He hadn't told anyone before. I was the only one who knew. Somehow it honored
me, even if he hadn't told me about it voluntarily, of course.
So instead of making him ramble any further, I put my finger on his lips, to
tell him that he didn't have to talk any more.
A warm glow came into his eyes at my touch. There was a deep longing in them.
He wanted nothing more than to feel love and security. My hand slid from his
lips to his cheeks and came to rest on the back of his neck. With gentle
pressure I pulled Jackson towards me. His face got closer and closer to mine
until it completely filled my field of vision. Just before our lips touched, he
closed his eyes.
The feeling was indescribable. His soft body nestled against me and I could
feel his warmth, his heartbeat, his taste.
I placed my hand on his stomach, gently moving up to
his chin.
His hand touched my chest. This is what I longed for.
The tender touch of a human.
With some effort, I pulled out of Jackson's mind and
found myself in his room once more. The time with him had been wonderful, but
now it was time to return home. Still, I couldn't help but take another look at
Jackson. He looked cute as he lay there, now quiet and sleeping. A faint smile
graced his lips. He was happy, I was sure of that.
Then I turned and left this world.
͠ ͠ ͠
On the bus the next day, Mickey finished reading RJ's essay.
He turned and stared at his friend and shook his head slowly from side to side.
RJ frowned. "You didn't like it?"
Mickey struggled to find the words to explain himself. "It's
a good story, RJ. Really good. I could never write anything like this, but ..."
"But what?" RJ asked.
Sighing, Mickey handed the essay to RJ. "There's stuff in
there that's kinda personal, you know?"
"It's just a story," RJ said. "It doesn't mean anything."
Mickey shook his head. "I still think it would be a bad idea
to enter this story in the contest. I don't think people would understand."
RJ put the essay in his backpack. That wasn't the point. People
didn't need to understand. They needed to listen, and the essay said what RJ
needed to say but couldn't. Ms. Masters would understand. She liked his
stories. She would think this one was the best yet.
͠ ͠ ͠
Gabriel Munsford, the school
gossip, sat back in your seat on the bus. She hadn't been able to read all of
RJ's story. It was hard to do, leaning over the seat to see what Mickey was
reading without getting caught, but she'd seen enough.
Jackson
feared nothing more than being found out that he liked boys.
She giggled to herself, eagerly looking forward to sharing
that juicy bit of information with her girlfriends. Everyone knew that RJ's middle
name was Jackson, so the story had to be about him. Just wait until everyone
heard! Gabriel's nickname was Gabby, and she'd earned that name many times
over. Just wait until EVERYONE heard!
The end of UNCAGED, Chapter Five