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
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"What are you writing, sweetie?" Rachel MacMahon placed a
plate of fried eggs and toast on the table in front of RJ.
"It's for school," RJ replied. "For English class." He slid
the pages over to his mom, and she began reading.
SECOND SIGHT
Soon he would have to move on. It had always been like that. It would always be
like this.
Right now he was sitting where he always sat. It was his regular spot. At least
he had been for the past six weeks. And it wasn't the worst, in Paolo's
opinion. Lots of tourists and residents came along here, many giving him a few
coins.
Soon, however, he would have to go. He wasn't allowed to stay in one place for
too long. They would notice him, would notice that he could see them.
It was only thanks to his experience that he had been able to stay here for so
long. But it wouldn't protect him forever.
The first signs were already recognizable. A look that rested on him for a few
seconds too long. A whisper he shouldn't have heard, but heard nonetheless. He
always had to act as if he didn't notice anything, as if everything was the same
as always. But he didn't always succeed. It was a burden. One that had broken
him long ago. He hadn't been strong enough, couldn't endure what he had seen
any longer.
His gift.
Actually, his curse.
Nobody could imagine what it meant. How could anyone have understood what it was like to see demons and angels? They
were always present. They lived among humans, camouflaged for most but
perfectly visible to Paolo. Some appeared inconspicuous, but concealed noble
and alien facial features under a mask.
Glasses, much too thick, might hang from long, pointed
ears.
Eyes, appearing shy to others, contained the wisdom of
several millennia.
Others were more aggressive. They had an aura that everyone sensed. These
beings were hollowed out and empty. Everything that was once human had been
ripped out and replaced with something else. They were lifeless shells under
the control of something sinister.
Still others seemed perfectly normal. Not different. No less, no better. They
fit in, well aware of their role. But there was still something slumbering in
these. An anger. An anger that caused them to transform at times into something
that was at the same time terrifying and yet nurturing.
There were also those who seemed broken. Prisoners, that's how it seemed to Paolo.
They were no longer masters of their own destiny, but a light shone within them
that was greater than that of their jailers. They just never seemed to notice
it themselves.
Paolo could see and feel all this. This and much more. Someone once called it
"the second sight". The ability to see the true essence of things.
But most of these beings didn't like to be recognized. Many played with the
humans in one way or another. They used them or whispered things to them in
order to change them. They didn't need observers.
Consequently, they were on guard. They were always on the lookout for people
who stared a moment too long. People who heard what they shouldn't have heard.
Those who showed that they can see through masks and see the real thing.
Before, Paolo couldn't hide it from them, so they chased him. He had escaped
them time and time again, but he didn't want to have to endure it any longer.
He had sought a cure. It had seemed so easy. Alcohol and drugs had dampened it,
sometimes completely switched it off. But it had been fleeting. The times of
being blind were far too short. The renewed, sudden awakening of his senses was
far too violent.
With a heavy heart he had to realize that he couldn't shut himself off. It was
his destiny to see the creatures around him, to see through their masks and to
be able to feel their essence.
Again he felt eyes, hot as tongues of fire, resting on him. A quick glance, not
long enough to be noticed but thorough enough to be sure, made him sigh. Again,
one of them stood there and watched Paolo.
Yes, it really was time for him to move on. It had always been like that. It
would always be like this.
Rachel pushed the paper aside. Where did RJ come up with
such disturbing stories? "I guess it's my fault you write things like this. I
should never have let you watch that show with the vampires."
RJ swallowed his bite and asked, "You mean From Dusk Till Dawn?"
Rachel nodded, sipping her coffee. "You should be watching
Disney movies or something."
"Mommmmm," RJ whined, "I'm not
five! And have you seen some of the stuff Disney is putting out now?"
"Good point," she mumbled. "I just wish you'd write about
something other than demons and aliens and whatever."
"Fantasy, mom. Not reality. I know the difference."
She chuckled as she studied her son. He was so intelligent. What
were the doctors thinking when they diagnosed him with their alphabet soup of
conditions? He seemed perfectly normal to her, although he was admittedly
smarter than most kids his age and apparently infatuated with the supernatural.
"As long as you keep it straight, I guess I don't care."
RJ munched on his toast, then sipped his milk. He was deep
in thought, and apparently decided to say what he had on his mind. "Mom, is it
weird that I can see when people are good or bad?"
Rachel blinked, surprised. "What do you mean, sweetie?"
RJ took a deep breath. "I don't know how to explain it
exactly. It's just ... well, sometimes I can see colors around people. The colors
tell me what they're thinking, what they're like, whether they're good or bad
people."
Rachel shook her head. "You mean something like an aura?"
"I guess that's what you would call it. It's like a glow,
all around them, different colors. Sometimes bright colors. Sometimes dark
shadows."
Rachel didn't know how to respond. This was one more thing
about RJ that was beyond her ability to understand and deal with, especially
when she had to be at the restaurant in fifteen minutes. "I don't know, RJ. Maybe
you're imagining it. Like your vampire movies."
RJ shook his head slowly. "It's not my imagination, Mom. It's
not fantasy. It's real."
RJ seemed so sure of himself. Perhaps he was actually seeing
something everyone else couldn't, but Rachel thought it far more likely that
RJ's overly-creative mind was making up things again, just as he had when he
was younger. She still remembered him saying he talked to an angel after his
father died. He'd said an angel told him his father was in Heaven and the
angels were going to be watching over RJ instead. She'd almost forgotten that,
but now RJ's colored auras brought it back to mind.
There was nothing to be done with it, not when she had to
leave for work. "I have to get going, baby. You be good today. Play with
Mickey. Don't burn the place down. I'm off tomorrow morning, but I have to work
the evening shift, so we'll be going to church. You can stay and have fun with
the youth group in the afternoon. Auntie Meyer said she would bring you home."
"Can Mickey go with us?"
"Sure. I don't see why not. Ask his parents."
"I will."
She kissed RJ on the forehead and grabbed her keys. She
hated leaving him alone, but the Daniels were right next door. If you couldn't
trust a deputy sheriff and an assistant DA, who could you trust?
͠ ͠ ͠
Mickey ate the last bite of cereal and dropped the spoon in
his bowl. "Can I hang out with RJ today?" he asked.
His dad put the newspaper down and scooped out another spoon
of raisin bran. "After you mow the lawn, yes."
"Can RJ help me?"
His mother looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Why would RJ
want to help you with your chores?"
" `Cause we're best friends," Mickey replied with a mischievous
grin. He wanted to add, `And besides, he
owes me for watching out for his ass in dodgeball,' but decided it might be
best to keep that part to himself. RJ wouldn't mind, Mickey knew. The two had
helped each other out with chores all the time. He wouldn't mind this time
either, especially since he owed Mickey for staying by his side when all the
other kids were being total douche-bags. That reminded Mickey of a question he
wanted to ask.
"Dad, can you arrest someone for bullying another kid at
school?"
His dad looked up, surprised. "Someone bothering you,
Mickey?"
"Not me."
"Who?"
Mickey grimaced. He wasn't sure if RJ wanted everyone
knowing all about his troubles last week. "No one in particular. I'm just
wondering."
His parents exchanged knowing looks, then his mom said, "It
depends on how bad the bullying is, Mickey. It would be better to take care of
it before it gets to the point where your dad has to arrest someone and I have
to prosecute them for a crime. If you see something wrong, you should speak
out. Tell a teacher."
Mickey nodded. He didn't think telling a teacher would do a
lot of good. Not for something like this. He stood up and took his empty bowl
to the sink, rinsed it out, and put it in the dishwasher. "I'm gonna go see what RJ is doing," he said, heading for the
back door.
As he closed the door behind him, his parents gave each
other concerned looks.
"I wonder what that was all about," his dad said.
͠ ͠ ͠
Lawn mowed, clippings raked, edges
trimmed, and tools put away, the boys finished in less than two hours. Then
they sprayed each other with the garden hose to cool off and eventually sat
under a tree to let their clothes dry.
There wasn't much of a breeze blowing, but it was pleasantly
cool in the shade of the massive elm tree.
RJ was the first to bring up the topic the boys had been
avoiding. He glanced over at Mickey and said, "Thanks for standing up for me,
Mick."
Mickey nodded slightly. "Like I said, RJ. You're my friend."
"Does it bother you?"
"Does what bother me?"
"That I'm gay."
Mickey wasn't surprised to hear that question. He'd been
expecting it, and he even had an answer. "Nah. It don't bother me. I sorta thought you might be gay, with that Brokeback
Mountain poster in your room."
They both giggled and stared at the clouds floating in the
sky.
"What's it like, RJ?"
"Being gay?"
"Yeah."
RJ shrugged. "I don't know. It's just how I am. I don't feel
any different from anyone else. I'm just like all the other guys as far as I
can tell."
"Except for the part where you like cocks?"
RJ looked at Mickey, shocked. Mickey gave him an impish
grin. They both laughed.
"Yeah, there is that," RJ admitted.
Mickey looked back at the sky, his cheeks turning bright
red. "Ummm ... RJ?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you like all cocks?"
RJ turned to look at Mickey. "Huh? What do you mean?"
Mickey refused to meet RJ's eyes. "I mean ... well, uhhh, do you like my cock?"
Now it was RJ's turn to blush. "What are you asking me,
Mickey? Do you want to know if I want to do stuff with you?"
Mickey sat up and hugged his knees to his chest. "No, not
that. Dang it, RJ, this is hard to talk about. When you look at other guys, are
you attracted to all of them, just `cause they're
guys, or are there some guys you like better than others?"
"I'm not really attracted to any particular guys. Not yet,"
RJ explained. "All I know is I don't like girls, not like that anyway, but I do
like guys."
"So you're not attracted to ... well,
to me?"
RJ chuckled. "Why would I be attracted to a doofus like
you?"
Mickey turned and stared at RJ. When he saw the teasing grin
on RJ's face, he laughed too. "I'm not a doofus."
RJ shook his head. "No, you're not. You're the best friend a
guy could ever have. And just for the record, I don't want to suck your dick or
have you stick it in my butt or anything like that. I would like to beat your
ass at Mario Cart though."
Mickey smiled. "If you think you can!" They jumped to their
feet and ran around the back of the house to the mother-in-law apartment that
RJ and his mom rented from the Daniels.
Their friendship had survived its first serious test without
breaking.
͠ ͠ ͠
Mickey sat through the church service, anticipating playing
softball that afternoon with RJ and the other kids from his church, but they
all received a surprise when they gathered outside the church. Mickey saw a
tall, muscular guy named Roderyk, calling all the kids together to give them
the news.
"Today, instead of softball, Auntie Meyer is inviting all of
you back to her farm to go swimming in her lake," he announced.
The kids cheered. On a warm spring afternoon, the thought of
swimming in the lake behind Auntie's barn was well received by everyone.
"You can run home and get swimsuits," Roderyk continued, "or
get a change of clothes and swim in shorts, if your parents don't mind."
"Can we swim in the raw?" Jared asked, causing all the kids
to squeal and laugh.
"Jared Jacobson!" Auntie cried, her eyes flashing. "The last
thing I want to see in my pond is your naked bottom!"
Jared blushed.
"I think we'll all be wearing something this time around,"
Roderyk said, with a laugh, "since it is a church youth group." That caused
more laughter from the kids. "Go get changed and be at Auntie's house in half
an hour.
There was a mad scramble as the kids rushed off.
Roderyk felt someone tugging on his sleeve. Turning, he saw
RJ and Mickey still standing there.
"My mom had to leave for work," RJ explained.
"Oh?" Roderyk looked over at Auntie for help.
"The boys can take off their shirts and swim in their
shorts," she said. "We'll put a towel under them when we drive `em home. Won't hurt my old truck none. Won't be the first
time those old seats got wet."
͠ ͠ ͠
On the ride to Auntie's farm, all four of them crowded into
the front of the truck. Auntie drove. Roderyk sat on the other side. Mickey and
RJ were squeezed between them, with RJ next to Roderyk.
It was frightening and exciting for RJ at the same time.
Frightening because his leg and hip and shoulder were
pressed against Roderyk. The heat from where they touched was overpowering, and
RJ was afraid he wouldn't be able to keep his dick from getting hard.
It was also exciting, because with his hands in his lap to
cover his dick, he didn't think anyone could see how hard he was getting. It
was thrilling in a way, and every bump they went over gave him a chance to push
down on his dick and make it throb.
Mickey was jammed in between Auntie and RJ. His dick wasn't
hard. With the wild way Auntie drove the old truck, Mickey was wondering what
his parents would say when they came to pick up his body at the morgue.
Roderyk wasn't thinking about Auntie's driving. He had
become numb to her carefree approach to steering and braking. Instead, he was
struggling to control his emotions. The feeling of RJ tucked into his side next
to him was causing his heart to pound. He wanted to wrap his arm around the boy
and pull him even closer, but he knew that would lead to things he couldn't
allow.
͠ ͠ ͠
The afternoon frolic in the lake was a free-for-all of fun,
with splashing, dunking, and spluttering laughter. The twins, Jasmine and
April, tried to organize swimming contests, but eventually the boys returned to
their attempts to topple the muscular Roderyk. With all of them working
together, they could just pull him off his feet, but he managed to make them
pay by dunking one or two on his way under the water. They all came up,
screaming and laughing, grabbing his arms and neck and legs and trying again
and again.
RJ and Mickey joined in the fun. Roderyk was powerfully
muscled, and it became a challenge to see who could climb up his body and cling
to him the longest before he tossed a boy through the air to land with a splash
in the lake waters.
RJ didn't try all that hard. For him, the real fun was
swimming under water up to Roderyk, feeling Roderyk's massive legs, and sliding
his hand up Roderyk's body, without actually touching anything he shouldn't.
Roderyk noticed RJ's touch, despite the other hands
grabbing, squeezing and clinging to his body. He noticed that RJ wasn't
aggressive like the other boys. It wasn't a competition for him, but instead a
chance to touch, to explore, to caress.
Roderyk was glad that the waters of the lake were cool. Cool
enough to keep his body from responding. Cool enough to keep him safe.
But the look in RJ's eyes told Roderyk that he wouldn't be
safe for long.
The end of UNCAGED, Chapter Seven