Date: Tue, 21 Apr 2015 21:46:01 -0700
From: h.schreiber@hushmail.com
Subject: Chapter 22 of Come Christmas Steve by Hans Schreiber

Come Christmas Steve

Chapter 22

Jaime's Cryin'

It had not been the homecoming I had hoped for. It seemed like there was
collateral damage all around me. I needed someone to lean on. I needed
someone to share my feelings with. I needed Steve.

I wondered how Steve was doing in jail. I hoped they were keeping him
separated and safe. I wished so deeply that I could talk to him. I wanted
him to hold me and tell me it would all be okay, but he didn't believe that
anymore. He needed me to be the strong one now and I was trying, but I was
nearing a breaking point. I just never imagined all the collateral damage
that could come out of it all. I'd talked a big game just before I got out
of jail, but it wasn't so easy to stay upbeat and positive with layer after
layer of shit coming at me and the ones I loved. I found my loaner phone
and dialed the one person I knew I could talk to. I called Whittaker and
prayed he would answer.

"Hey," his smooth baritone crooned.

"Whittaker, it's me, Shane."

"SHANEY!! How's my horny little homo?"

"Not that great. Things just continue to suck here at home. People are such
jerks," I said.

He immediately sensed my sadness and changed his tone. "Dude, what's wrong?
What's going on there?"

"Everything. And nothing. You saw the news conference, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, other than you spacing out at first, I thought it went pretty
good. So did my mom," Whittaker replied.

"That's what Adam said too. But the problem is that it put it out there and
now it's big F'n news for our small town. Everybody's talking about it and
most of them think I'm guilty. What hurts me most is how people are
treating my parents. Dad can't get work and Mom's friends are shunning
her." I proceeded to give him all the details and ended with the visit from
the reverend.

"What an ass. But there's still a lot of religious prejudice out
there. That takes generations to overcome.

Look at civil rights," Whittaker told me. "It's taken decades for any
meaningful progress."

"I know, and I don't give a crap about how they treat me, but seeing my mom
so upset is killing me. The other problem here is that nothing is
happening. I do the chores and then I have all day until evening chores
with nothing to do. I can't leave because I have to be with my parents. I
help my mom in the kitchen and cleaning house, but there's not much to do
there either. So I sit around, read, worry and put on weight. I'd go work
with my dad but no one wants me around so I've got nothing useful to
do. Adam said this could go on for months and months. I'll go freakin'
crazy."

"Damn, dude. That really sucks. Not to make you feel bad, but I'm helping
my mom on the political shit now that I'm feeling better. It's kind of
fascinating. I'm sort of getting into it. I think our guy has a really good
chance of winning the governorship and he's really connected with the
President. Not sure that really helps him considering the Prez's numbers
but it's cool. I'm actually in DC right now with Mom.  We're working the
Dem's for air time. I'm kind of a celebrity over this whole international
sex ring case and how I took out the ring leader when I snapped old Asshole
Arty's neck. It's playing in our favor and I think I'll be doing a bunch of
news conferences and probably some daytime TV even. It's really made a
total difference with me and my mom. We're getting tight. Dad's here with
us too and they're really involving me in this thing. They actually seek
and value my opinion. Crazy huh?"

"Yeah. Crazy." I guess my tone was less than enthusiastic.

"Uh-oh. What?" Whittaker asked.

"Nothing. That's great for you. I'm happy."

"No you're not. I hear it. Don't lie to me, dude. Shane, I didn't tell you
all that to make you feel bad.  Honest."

"I know. I'm glad something good is coming out of all of this shit for
someone, and I'm especially glad it's you. You deserve it. You were my rock
through the whole fucked up mess. I guess it just reminded me of how I'm
always getting screwed over. But, I'm sincere when I say I'm really glad
that this helped you fix things with your parents."

"More than that, dude. This goes way further than me making nice with my
parents. Robert's really wanting to make this a platform issue. The old
governor did a horrible job with victim rights and appointed some horrible
judges. This is a chance to change some of that. It gives us a chance to
make some meaningful changes."

"That's good. I'm not so sure having this get more publicity is good for me
and Steve, though. I'd just like it to die down and go away," I lamented.

"Well, that's not happening anytime soon, whether Robert makes it a
campaign issue or not. This thing is huge. Even though it sucks for you,
it's a huge fucking thing you did. If you hadn't pursued this, that lame
fucker, Judge Arty, would still be abusing kids and selling them as
international sex slaves, for God's sake. Think about that next time you
think your life sucks because of what happened. Yeah, it sucks for you, I'm
sure, and I don't blame you for feeling bad about it, but it was not for
nothing. Did you see the news when they busted that perverted Columbian
drug lord over this? He had four young slaves from the boy's home
imprisoned in his compound. They're free now. You made that happen. Calvin
gave his life so that could happen. I got shot so that could happen. Your
life got all fucked up so that could happen. I bet those kids we saved
don't even realize what sacrifices we made for them, just like few people
know the real sacrifices made by our soldiers to keep us free and safe. But
it doesn't make their sacrifice any less important or valuable. Suck it up
dude. Seriously, you're a hero no matter what the assholes in your little
town think."

"You think so?"

"Hell, I know so."

"Wow." I pondered that. "Thanks. That's the perspective I guess I
needed. Give 'em hell out there in DC, dude, and say hello to Oprah for
me."

Whittaker laughed. "That's the spirit. Hey, listen. I have to ask you
something for my mom. Don't get pissed, okay?"

I sighed. "I won't get pissed. What?"

"Seriously, don't get pissed off," Whittaker repeated.

"All right! I won't! Now what?"

"Did it really go down just like you said with that kid in Yellowstone? You
honestly didn't do anything with him, right?"

I understood why he forewarned me not to get pissed off. I fought off the
urge to yell into the phone. "It happened exactly like I said it
did. Whittaker, you know I wouldn't do what I'm accused of." I clipped my
words.

"I know. I know. I promised I'd ask you again. Mom wants to talk to your
attorney, that Adam guy. I can't find his card he left me. Can you set that
up? She thinks she might be able to help you." I relaxed and fought off the
annoyed feelings as a sudden flurry of excited hope stirred in me.

"Help? How?"

"Not really sure, dude. But she's connected and she's freakin' good at what
she does. I've seen her kick some major ass around here in the capitol
these last few days."

"Hold on." I looked up Adam's number and then gave it to him. "You really
think she can help?"

"If she says she can, she can. But, don't get your hopes up too high. She
has to talk to your attorney first."

"What's she got in mind?" I asked.

"Dude, I don't really know. She just asked me to make sure you were
definitely telling the straight up truth about what happened and get Adam's
contact information. That's it."

"Hmmm. I wonder what she has in mind." I couldn't imagine what she could do
but anything would be welcome as far as I was concerned.

"What's DC like?" I asked.

"Awesome. There's so much history here. All the Smithsonian's and
monuments, but the high level meetings with the politicos is the most
incredible thing going down. There's a lot of self-serving bullshit
involved, but there's a lot of people who honestly want to do the best and
right thing. It's hard sometimes to figure out what that is, though,"
Whittaker said.

"That's a great experience, man. Especially working with your parents and
all. I'm happy for you. I wish I could be there with you. I'm bored out of
my brain. I sit around and surf the net, and NO, not those sites your dirty
little mind is thinking about, and oh yeah, I'm eating tons of Mom's good
food. I'm getting pudgy. My pants are tight on me."

"Dude, that sucks. Why aren't you out running? Train for a marathon or
something. When this is all over, maybe we can take a road trip here to DC
and I can show you all the highlights. The Air and Space Museum is sick,"
Whittaker suggested.

"That would be way fun, but that's out of the budget. I'm going to spend
the next 20 years paying off my legal bills. I overheard Adam talking to
Dad before he left and he kind of apologetically told him that he was
working for a reduced fee but he had to charge a certain amount because of
his firm and other partners. The number was staggering. I know Mom and Dad
went into the bank and mortgaged up the ranch. I feel horrible about it,
but I don't want to take my chances with any other attorney."

"I don't blame you. That really sucks. It's so unfair when you didn't do
anything wrong."

"I know. But I'm paying them back; I swear I will if it takes the rest of
my life. I'm not letting Mom and Dad go broke because of me," I insisted.

"I have no doubt you'll do it. I have no doubt you'll do whatever the hell
you set out to do. Once the Shane train gets a full head of steam, get off
the damn tracks cuz there ain't no stopping you," he joked.

"Ha. The Shane train, huh? You crack me up."

"Heard anything from Steve? How's he doing?" Whittaker asked, changing
subjects.

"Don't know and that's driving me crazy too. I'm planning on writing him a
letter. I have no other way to communicate with him. I'm stuck here and
he's in jail so ..." I paused and added, "That's stressful too. I worry
about him all the time, every day. That's all I have to do is sit around
and worry. It sucks."

"Shane, I'm sorry, dude. I really am. I wish I could do something to help,
but I don't know what," he sincerely stated. Then he added in typical
Whittaker style, "I could send you a Sudoku book or a mail order dildo."

"Smartass. I know you'd help if you could. You stood by me all through our
finding Steve nightmare.  You're the best friend ever, man."

There was silence. We'd sort of run out of conversation. "Guess I better
let you go. We shouldn't keep the President waiting on you," I kidded.

"Yup. That's sort of impolite, but he'll get over it," Whittaker shot
back. "Seriously, I bet his schedule is insane. Can you imagine?"

"No, I can't imagine. Who'd really want that job? No wonder most of them
are egomaniacal freaks and whack jobs," I joked.

"Right. They need someone normal and brilliant like you or me running this
country. We'd whip it into shape in no time," Whittaker said.

"Go ahead. You can run for it. I'll be your speech writer. Lord knows you'd
desperately need one. But speaking of running, I think I might take your
suggestion and get back to running. I need some exercise besides just the
chores. There's not that many in the wintertime."

"Do it. We'll run a marathon together someday," said Whittaker.

"Cool, I'd love it," I said. Being done, we waited for the other one to say
goodbye. I finally said it and we hung up.

I reminisced on my experiences with Whittaker. I thought about the first
time I saw his giant swinging dick in the dorm room showers. I recalled how
nonchalant he was about showing it off. Then I thought of our time together
in Yellowstone and afterward when we were impromptu roommates after Steve
and I had our Valentine's tiff. I remembered with no small amount of
fondness our little tryst and the extremely satisfying feeling of his
monumental dick up my ass. I remembered with some trauma the lost
condom. Most of all, I remembered all the times he stood by me and helped
me while I searched for Steve and the rock he was when we were in Judge
Arty's phony prison. He was an incredible friend. I was truly pleased that
he and his parents, especially his mom, had found their way back together
as a result of our escapade. At least something of value had come out of it
all. That and the boys we rescued and the ones we spared from future
abuse. There was that.

I'm not cynical by nature, but I worried a little that his Mom's interest
in him was because she saw a political advantage in exploiting his
notoriety from the sex scandal drama. I worried that once that wore off, he
might get cast aside again. I hoped that wouldn't be the case because I
believed that would send Whittaker into a nose-diving tail spin.

I spent maybe thirty more minutes in the loft reminiscing and worrying
about a variety of things when I heard a truck come up the lane and skid to
a stop outside the barn. I swung down on the rope and dropped to the hay
pile below. When I left the barn, I was shocked to see Billy helping Jaime
out of the passenger side of one of the work trucks. She looked
horrible. She'd been beaten up and was bleeding. I rushed over.

"Jaime, what's wrong? Can I help?" I asked.

Billy looked at me with an angry scowl that had already been there long
before I spoke and wasn't directed at me. He had his jaw set and the veins
in his neck were sticking out like Dad's veins sometimes did when he was
really, really mad. "Her asshole father did this," Billy seethed. "Fucker's
not getting away with it. He's got a Billy Beatdown coming his way."

Jaime didn't speak. She just looked down at the ground below her feet with
tears trickling from her swollen and discoloring eyes. She was limping on
her left foot so I supported her from the opposite side of Billy and we
helped her into the house. Billy called out to Mom and when Mom came out of
the kitchen, she gasped. Billy explained that her father had hurt her and
she needed a safe place to stay.  Dad came out of his bedroom and rushed to
assist. Mom shooed us away and took Jaime to her bathroom to clean her
up. Dad, Billy and I watched until they cleared the doorway and then we
went into the living room to talk.

"What happened?" Dad asked.

"Jaime and I have been seeing each other a little. We were going to meet
out by the canal and talk but she didn't show up. I called her, but she
didn't answer. I texted her, but still got no answer. I was worried. Then I
got this." Billy pulled up the text she sent him.

"Help. My dad hurt me. Scared," it read.

Billy continued his story, "I raced back here and then jumped in a
truck. When I got to Jaime's house, I jumped out of the truck and her old
man staggered out onto the porch. I told him I'd come to get Jaime and he
told me to get the fuck off his property. I reached into the back of the
pickup and grabbed a piece of pipe and told him I wasn't leaving without
Jaime." I groaned and Dad furrowed his brow.

Billy went on, "He said something like 'over my dead body,' and I said no
problem. I told him I'd already killed two other scumbags and he could be
my third. I think he mighta shit himself when I said that," Billy
claimed. "He yelled a string of threats and profanities at me but he
staggered off the porch out of my way. I went in and found Jaime huddled in
the corner of her room and helped her out to the truck.  She said that he
was blaming her for her mom running off and he refused to let her take
their truck to come see me. He didn't want her seeing me anymore, she told
me. Anyway, she and her drunk old man argued and he started hitting and
kicking her and then grabbed his spittoon and smashed her in the face with
it."

At this point, Dad spoke, looking heavenward, "Good Lord, could you please
send a little trouble elsewhere besides just our family?"

"Sorry Dad, but I couldn't leave her there with him," Billy said. "I had to
do something."

"I know that. You were right to rescue her, but you should have gotten me
involved. Running off on your own, especially with what you're involved in
already was not bright. What if you had ended up fighting with him and what
if you had, God forbid, killed him? That would sink your other case and
you'd be painted as a hot-headed vigilante. It may still happen if he calls
the police before we do," Dad wisely indicated.

"Dad, no. She doesn't want to involve the cops. She just wants to stay with
us until she turns eighteen next month and can legally move out and
away. She'll finish school, maybe doing home school with me and then go off
to college somewhere. She's smart. She can get a scholarship maybe and
student loans.  We just have to help her out until school's out."

"You two dreamed all that up on the ride over here?" Dad asked.

"No. We been talking about it for a while. Ever since I quit going to
school and started doing classes here at home," Billy admitted.

"How long have you been seeing each other?" Dad asked.

"A while. Off and on," Billy admitted.

"Have you two been having sex?" Dad blatantly asked, staring hard into
Billy's eyes.

I expected Billy to look away and lie, but he didn't. He held Dad's gaze
and said, "Yes. I love her." My eyes widened and I waited for Dad's
reaction. I was prepared for anything.

"Hmmm. Does her father know that?" Dad asked.

"Yes sir. He didn't use to care. He didn't care about Jaime or whatever she
did. We did it in her room with him there sometimes. I think the perverted
jerk even watched us a few times." I knew that Billy knew he had watched
them. I understood why Billy said it the way he did, though. I was
impressed that Billy didn't try to lie about it at all. I guess with all
the crap that had gone down, he'd learned the value of telling the whole
truth to people you need to trust and rely on.

"Don't you think it would have been nice to share that with your father as
well?" Dad sounded hurt.

Billy now cast his gaze to the floor and nodded affirmatively. "Sorry. I
should have, but ...."

"All right. Here's what we need to do," Dad said firmly, leaving no room
for argument. "Jaime can stay for now so she has a safe place. We will call
the sheriff's office and report what happened. We have to.

No arguments on that from either of you. If they will allow it, she can
stay here as long as she wants.  While she is here in our house, there will
be absolutely NO SEX, and by NO I mean NONE. No sex of any sort between you
two. I will not have that in our house or risk having your mother see
something.  Understood?"

"Yes sir. Understood."

"I mean it," Dad repeated.

"I know. We won't, I swear."

"Good," Dad affirmed. "No need to tell your mother about how far you've
already gone either. That serves no purpose. Did you at least use condoms?"

"Dad! Of course. I'm not stupid and neither is she," Billy whined.

"Good. Good Lord. Okay, I'm calling the sheriff before her crazy father
does and makes some nonsense up about you. We do not need that." Dad left
the room and went outside. He didn't want to be overheard.

"Damn, Billy. I'm impressed how you stood up and told the truth to Dad," I
said.

"Had to. Why lie now?"

"Yeah. Good point. Still, I was impressed," I said again. "Had her old man
ever beat her up before this?" I asked.

"Not that I know of. I never saw any signs of it and she never said
anything. He never gave a fuck about her or anything else before. He was
always verbally abusive to her, calling her ugly and stupid and fat all the
time and she isn't any of those things."

"So why the sudden change?" I asked.

"You won't like it," Billy said. He glanced away from me.

"What? Tell me."

He sighed, studied his hands and said, "The stupid fucker told her that
fags run in families and that we must have the fag gene in ours. He told
her that he knew we were fucking each other and he wasn't gonna have any
little faggots for grandkids. Like he even cares."

Billy was right. I didn't like the reason. Now I was also responsible for
some almost complete stranger getting beat up by her own father. I grew
sick to my stomach and started to gag. I couldn't hold it and I rushed to
the kitchen barely making it to the sink in time to hurl my dinner. Billy
came to my side and put a hand tenderly on my back.

"God, Shane, I'm sorry. He's a drunken asshole, all right? It's not about
you, it's about him. He's just an asshole. She's safe and we'll help her
out. It's not your fault."

I spun and I snapped. "Bullshit! That's just it! It IS my fault. It's all
my fucking fault. Calvin's dead, Jaime's been beaten, Mom and Dad are
losing all their friends and maybe the ranch, you're accused of
manslaughter and I'm accused of molesting a kid! I'm expelled from college,
you're kicked out of high school and off your hockey team. Steve's in jail
and we can't even go to church together as a family.  AND IT'S ALL MY
FAULT!! It's all my fucking fault! I wish I'd never been born. I just suck,
and I ruin everyone else's life around me." I was near hysterical and
started to run off. I wanted to run off and never return. I wanted to run
out into the snowy fields barefoot or even naked and never stop. Just keep
running until I couldn't run any further and then just lay down and die of
exposure and exhaustion.

"Why can't I be NORMAL like everyone else? Why did I have to be the freak?
I honestly felt like I should just run away and stop screwing up everyone
else's lives."

Billy grabbed me and spun me around. He slapped me. Hard. Across the
cheek. "Stop it!" He had tears forming.

"Stop it! Dammit!" He gripped me with both hands and shook me. "You are
normal!! You're as normal as me or Karl or Tom or anyone else. You're not
only normal, you're good. You're kind and you're, you're, you're just GOOD!
And it's hard to be good, but not for you. No matter what, you were always
good and nice to me. Even when I didn't deserve it. Even when I teased and
was cruel to you, you were kind to me. So don't ever say that
again. Ever. I love you, Shane. I would be so lost without you. Don't ever
talk about running off. Fuck the others, man. It's not your fault. You are
who you are and you have nothing to be ashamed about. You're good." I was
now sobbing and we fell into each other and hugged.  Mom and Jaime came
rushing in to see what was going on.

After we calmed down. We separated and Jaime hugged Billy. Mom hugged me
and we all cried together. Dad walked in, surveyed the sloppy mess and
asked, "What's going on in here?"

"Nothing," Billy said insistently. He didn't want me to have to go through
it all again. "We're just a little upset over everything that's been going
on. We're fine now. Right guys?"  We all nodded in agreement but didn't say
anything.

Dad sighed, "Okay, I suppose. The sheriff is sending someone over to take a
report."

"No. I don't want to involve the cops. I just want to let it go and move
out in a month when I'm eighteen. Billy, we talked about that," Jaime
complained.

"I know, but Dad felt it was best since we already have a mess to deal with
around here from that sex scandal thing. He's right too. If your Dad called
and made up a bunch of lies, it could be worse for all of us, even
you. Trust my dad, Jaime. He's smart about things and he does what's best,"
Billy convincingly cooed. He was so calm and reassuring that Jaime didn't
argue. She just slipped back into his embrace.  Mom eyed Dad and smiled
curiously. I wondered if Mom and Jaime had also talked in depth about the
relationship between Jaime and Billy. I wondered if they'd figured out the
coincidence of Jaime the girl and Billy's other supposed guy friend also
named Jaime. I sure wasn't going to bring that up.

Within an hour, the Sheriff's Expedition pulled up and to my dismay, Deputy
Withers knocked on our door. I let him in as he eyed me in a manner that
made me squirm. He didn't offer his hand and I didn't offer mine. I simply
escorted him to the family room and announced his arrival. Soon, we were
all seated comfortably and after visually inspecting Jaime's injuries, he
began his interview.

"Fill me in. Jaime, you go first. What happened to you tonight?" the
sheriff asked in a surprisingly sympathetic tone. She detailed her evening
from the time she got home from school to find her dad in his usual
semi-drunken state. She told how she straightened up the house and then
cooked a can of soup and made grilled-cheese and bologna sandwiches for
dinner. I thought about our wonderful dinner and felt bad for her. Then she
explained how she asked to borrow the truck and how he accused her of
wanting to go have sex with Billy. She said he didn't want her to go see
Billy anymore, and that's where she paused and looked over at me.

"Because why?" the sheriff asked. She stared down at her trembling hands.

I decided to spare her the embarrassment and spoke up. "Billy told me that
it was because of me.  Because I'm gay. He was afraid Billy and Jaime would
have sex and make gay grandkids. That's why he beat her up. Because of
me. How stupid is that?"

I almost expected the sheriff to close his notebook and say, "No wonder he
did it. Who could blame him?" But of course, he didn't. Instead he asked,
"Is that true? Is that why he hit you?"

"Yes. I told him that I wasn't going to have sex, I was just going to talk
and be with Billy. Then my dad called me an ugly slut and a liar, and then
started blaming me again for my mother leaving us. I told him he was the
reason she left, because of his drinking and how mean he was to her and
then he lost his temper and started screaming and hitting me. He picked up
the silver thing he spits his chew into and smashed me in the face with
it." She started to cry. My mom and Billy both put their arms around her
and consoled her.

The sheriff got Billy's side of the story next, and wisely, Billy left out
the part about the pipe and threatening her old man with his life. Finally,
the sheriff looked at me and asked, "What's your involvement in this?"

"None, really. Except for existing. It seems everyone hates me just for
existing. Hate and fear are pretty strong emotions, I've learned."

The sheriff didn't comment but he did have a quick reflective moment that
surprised me. I could see it.  Then his expression turned sour again. He
sighed. "I'll be going to arrest your father, Jaime, based on the testimony
I have here and your obvious injuries. How old are you?"

"Please don't arrest him," she said ignoring his question. "That will only
make it worse. I just want to get away and leave it go. Please."

"I'm sorry, but he's committed a serious crime. I can't ignore it. Neither
should you. Don't worry about having to go back with him. We won't let that
happen. Now, how old are you? I failed to ask your date of birth earlier."

Jaime looked down and gave her birth date. Billy put his arm around her as
she dabbed at her eyes.

"Thanks. I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to stay here, given the
troubling situation this family is in the middle of." Jaime looked up at
the sheriff and it appeared as if she was about to completely lose it.  He
put his large hand up and continued, "But, I checked and there's no other
place for you to go tonight except juvenile hall, which makes no damn sense
whatsoever. We only have one social worker on call in this whole damn
county. The poor overworked soul authorized it for you to stay here against
my better judgment. At least it's his as ... er, responsibility if
something happens. So for now, my sergeant is willing to permit you
spending the night here. Provided, that is, if you are okay with it and as
long as you can have your own room. We'll sort out the long term solution
tomorrow. Is everyone okay with that?"

We all emphatically agreed that it was okay. Finally, the sheriff insisted
that Jaime get medical attention.  Jaime said no, that she was not
seriously injured, but Sheriff Withers insisted. Mom agreed to take her to
the urgent care in town and that satisfied him. He told them to make sure
they kept the medical report for him to add to his police report. When he
stood to leave, he put a hand on her shoulder and said, very
sympathetically, "I'm sorry you had to experience this. It's just so wrong.
We'll make sure you stay safe and protected from your father. Don't worry,
okay? I'll come back tomorrow to check in on you."

"Thank you," Jaime said, extending a weak hand. He took it and it
disappeared in his massive paw. Then he shook Billy's hand, Dad's and Mom's
and shockingly, he actually extended his hand to me. He didn't even wipe
his hand off on his neatly starched pants after touching me, which I sort
of figured he might do. He did not, however, smile at me.

After he was gone, Jaime began to cry softly. Billy comforted her with an
arm around her shoulder and a hand on her thigh. The intensely
compassionate look on his face pronounced the tender feelings he had for
her. I was proud of him. He said that I was good, but he was good, too. He
was good and he was brave. I think maybe it had something to do with how we
were raised by two good parents.

Mom gathered a few things and then got Jaime's coat for her. They left for
the urgent care as they had promised they would. That left Billy, Dad and
me. We talked about reasonable possibilities for the near future.

"Dad, I want Jaime to stay here until she can get out on her own. She wants
that too."

"As long as you two behave, I don't have a problem with it, but you heard
the sheriff. The authorities may not be okay with it and we can't do
anything about that," Dad answered.

"That's so stupid!" exclaimed Billy.

"No argument from me, but stupidity is not uncommon in government
agencies."

"Where will they send her? Not to Juvey! No way am I letting that happen!"
insisted Billy.

"I wouldn't worry about that. I'm sure they just didn't have an alternative
for tonight besides us or a juvenile detention facility. Tomorrow, they'll
be able to figure things out and find a safe place for her," said Dad.

"If her Dad's in jail, why couldn't she just stay at her own house? She's
almost eighteen," I suggested.

"I don't know the rules on that. I'm not sure when a person can be
independent," Dad mentioned. "I doubt that would be an acceptable option,
though."

"It's crazy how others can just take control of your life and you have
almost no say over things," mused Billy.

"True," Dad agreed. "If we talk to the social worker tomorrow, maybe he'll
take it into consideration that she is almost legal age and will let her
stay where she wants. Provided he thinks it's safe here with the legal mess
going on. Otherwise, I'm sure there must be a short term foster care option
until she's actually eighteen. Like you say, it's out of our control."

"So True!" I confirmed. "I'll go get my things out of Karl and Tom's room
and move back in with Billy," I offered. I'd moved down the hall a day
after Adam had left so Billy could have his own room back. I actually
preferred being in the same room as Billy. It was comforting having him
there at night, and I kind of think he felt the same way, but neither of us
expressed it. It would have seemed strangely odd just to suggest.

It was late before Mom and Jaime returned from the urgent care in town. Dad
had gone to bed but Billy and I stayed up and waited for them. Billy met
them at the door and took Jaime's coat for her. He gave her a gentle hug
asking if she was all right.

"Yes. I'm fine. I knew it wasn't anything that serious," she responded.

"You don't call a fractured cheek bone serious?" Mom asked.

"What?" Billy cried out.

"Calm down. It's just cracked, not really fractured. There's nothing to do
for it but let it heal. I'll be fine," Jaime explained. "The worst part is
the headache, but the pain pills are helping." I smiled at Mom's dramatic
interjection.

"Are you hungry? Do want something to eat or drink?" Billy offered.

"No. Thanks. I just need some rest. If I can borrow some blankets, I can
sleep there on the couch," said Jaime.

Mom clucked her tongue, "Tsk, you most certainly will not be sleeping on
the couch. We have beds a plenty and if anyone was going to be sleeping on
the couch, it would be one of these two hayseeds."

Billy and I chuckled as we knew exactly what Mom's response was going to
be. "I'll show you which room will be yours," Billy said.

"I'll be right up to put clean sheets on the bed for you," chimed Mom.

"No need," I said, "I already did that when I moved my things out."

Mom beamed at me. "How wonderfully thoughtful of you, Shane. Thank you,"
Mom said smiling proudly.

"Yes. Thank you, Shane," spoke Jaime softly as she touched my arm. Then she
smiled up into Billy's eyes and said, "After you." Off they went, hand in
hand and shoulder to shoulder up the stairs. Mom watched them all the way
until they rounded the corner at which time she turned her questioning gaze
on me. I raised my eyebrows, made a zipper motion across my pursed lips and
said good night, leaving her standing there in the entryway alone.

When I got in the bedroom, Billy was already in bed, staring at the
ceiling. The bathroom door was shut and Jaime's bedroom door was open
allowing me to see it was empty so I knew she was in the bathroom. I
decided my teeth wouldn't rot away if they missed getting brushed for one
night. I stripped to my boxers and climbed under the crisp, cold sheets. I
shivered for a few minutes while I warmed my spot.

"You doing okay?" I asked.

"I guess. I'm glad she's not seriously hurt," said Billy.

"Me too. She's nice. I like her."

"Me too," Billy said with a smile in his voice.

"I can see it. I saw the way you looked at her when the sheriff left and
her emotions got the best of her.  It was pretty obvious that you care
really deeply about her," I said.

"I do. I love her, bro. I really do."

"That's cool. I think Mom's sort of put that together too. She gave me a
questioning look when you two climbed the stairs hand in hand," I told him.

"Really? Did she seem pissed about it?" Billy asked.

"Nah. I don't think so. I think she was just trying to process it. Her baby
falling for a girl and all."

Billy chuckled. "I never liked being called the baby."

"I know. I got a couple of Billy Beatdowns over doing it," I reminded him.

"Sorry."

"No worries. I lived."

"I overreacted sometimes," admitted Billy.

"Ya think?"

There was a bit of a silence and then Billy asked, "You think Dad did it
too when he was a kid?"

"Fall in love? Yeah, obviously. He married Mom and they still love each
other," I answered.

"No. Not that. I mean what dad said about the reverend messing around with
that friend of theirs," explained Billy.

"What? Where did that come from?" I asked wondering at his sudden shift of
topic.

"I dunno, I've just been wondering since Reverend Lew-ass was here. I mean,
that's not something you would tell another guy unless ... you know."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean, you wouldn't tell another guy friend that you were messing around
with a fellow friend, normally," clarified Billy.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on their relationship."

"Exactly. It would have to be really close to tell something like that. But
do you?"

"Do I what?" I asked. "Dang dude, you're talking in riddles. Do I what?"

"Think Dad did sex stuff with his friend, Matthew?" Billy pushed.

"I don't know. My brain can't even let me think about that. Why does it
matter?" I asked.

"No reason, I guess. I just was thinking about it. I mean, it wouldn't
matter if he did. They would have been kids messing around, right? No
meaning to it. I was just thinking the way Dad said it, well it was like
maybe after Reverend Lew-ass taught Matthew about it, maybe Matthew taught
Dad. Everybody has to learn somehow, right? It doesn't mean anything."

"Billy, what's this about?" I asked, rolling over to face him.  He rolled
over to face me. "I ..." He paused. "How did you learn about it? Jacking
off and other sex stuff?"

"I was pretty naive, but I was always kind of curious about my boy
parts. You can't tell anyone this, but I actually learned from Nicolas one
Christmas Eve up in the hay loft of the barn."

"Our cousin, Nicolas?" Billy asked incredulous.

"Yup. He said he was gonna give me a better gift than anything Santa would
bring me. And he showed me how to do it. After that, I messed around with
him and his brother, Daniel, up there in the loft a few more times when
they were visiting."

"Shit."

"But it was just young boys being curios. You know. Like you said."

"Did they teach you about sticking things up your butt?" Billy asked.

"Gawd, Billy. Just throw it out there why don't you?" I said a bit shocked
at his candor.

"I'm not judging. I'm just asking. Don't get pissed."

"I'm not pissed. I just wasn't expecting this kind of a
conversation. What's this all about, really?" I asked.

"Nothing. Just wondering about things lately," deflected Billy.

"So how did you learn about it?" I asked him back. He didn't answer. I felt
the intentional silence and sensed his discomfort. I started to worry if I
was opening a Pandora's Box. "You don't have to answer if you don't want
to. I'm not trying to pry if it's too embarrassing."

"No. I will," he agreed. "I learned about it from you."

"What?" I was shocked. "I never did anything with you. Other than jack off
with you next to me in bed when I thought you were asleep. But you were
older when I did that and you were already doing it too because I heard you
when you thought I was asleep."

"I was eleven or twelve, probably. I heard weird noises in the bathroom. I
got a toothpick and pressed the little button through the tiny hole in the
handle and unlocked it. I slipped it open and I saw you, naked, slumped on
the toilet seat and your feet propped on the little stool. You were rubbing
it with one hand and pumping the hair brush handle in and out of your
butthole."

I was stunned. "Oh my God. You little snoop! You deserve whatever warping
of your mind you got from seeing that," I said.

"Are you pissed?" he cautiously asked.

"No. I would have been back then, but what's the point now?"

"Good. I've wanted to tell you that for a long time. Get it off my chest,
you know?"

"Wow. That's a helluva revelation. So, did it warp you?" I asked.

"Probably. What do you think?" He started to laugh and that made me laugh.

"I'd say more like definitely," I said amid the laughter.

When our laughter died down, he said, "I tried it out later that night. I
couldn't get the brush handle to go in so I gave up on that. But I managed
the jacking off part and I got a dry 'gasm on my first try. Holy shit! I
couldn't believe it when the buzz hit me and my dick started jumpin' and
twitchin' all on its own. I was pretty much hooked from then on. I learned
more about it from the other guys at school, you know.  Little things guys
would say made sense all of a sudden. You know."

"I don't know. I didn't really have that many friends who were close enough
to talk about that kind of thing."

"Did you mess with other guys besides our cousins?" Billy asked.

"No. I wanted to but I never dared try and suggest anything. Like I said, I
didn't have any friends I could trust with that kind of information. I was
fighting the idea that I might be gay and I was scared of it. I just lived
out my fantasies with the hair brush and my jackhammer hand," I
admitted. "Steve was my first."

"Wow. And only, I guess. No wonder you wanted to find him so bad."

My conscience was pricked. I considered admitting to him about Whittaker
and to some extent Calvin, but I decided to keep that secret to myself.

"When did you start having sex?" I asked.

"Ninth grade. Girls made it easy for me. They just offered it up. None of
them were like it is with Jaime, though. Ever. I feel bad how I treated her
the past year. She said she didn't care, but I know she must have. She
never gave me any shit about sleeping around with other girls though. Crazy
huh?"

"I'll say. Not like most girls. Steve was way more accepting about the idea
of open sex than I was. He didn't really see it as that big of a deal."

"No wonder," Billy blurted and then sucked in a short breath, seemingly
trying to recapture his words.

"No wonder what?" I asked.

"Nothing," Billy said much too quickly and emphatically.

"No wonder what?" I asked again.

Billy fumbled a bit then said, "I was just thinking about the time I gave
you guys a ride to the bus station and Steve was all willing to let me butt
fuck him instead of doing it to the cheerleader."

"I remember that. That was weird. You have no idea how much that was
freaking me out. I couldn't believe he was saying all that," I agreed.

"You know, I told you the cheerleader let me try it with her, up the butt,
I mean. Well after that, I realized I was being a huge prick and I
committed to being exclusive with Jaime."

"Good for you."

"Yeah. Good for me." There was a less than enthusiastic tone in his voice.

"What? Did you cheat on her with the cheerleader again after that?" I
asked, a bit accusatory.

"No."

"So why did you say it that way then?" I asked. "Billy, something's
bothering you, why don't you just spill it."

"Jaime's dad. What he said. Do you think gayness really does run in
families?" asked Billy.

"No. That's dumb."

"Is it?"

"Yeah, it's just a drunk old man with messed up ideas about life. Just like
you said," I stated.

"But what if it is true? I mean, you think you were born the way you are,
right? I mean it wasn't how you were raised or anything that happened in
your childhood, unless doing it with our cousins turned you gay. Do you
think that did it?" Billy asked.

"No. they didn't turn me gay. I was interested and curious about guys and
pretty much disinterested in girls already by then. I liked what we did
together, but that didn't turn me gay. Lots of guys have same sex
experiences as kids. If that turned you gay, half the population and
probably 80% of guys would be gay." Billy snickered at that comment.

"Yeah. If dad did it with that Matthew kid when he was a boy, it certainly
didn't make him gay," Billy said. "He's got four kids to prove it. I want
to be a good dad someday, like he is."

"Billy, what is up with you? What's eating you? Just spit it out."

"Ohh gawwwd. Okay. I got to tell someone and I trust you," Billy
began. "What Jaime's old man said really got to me. What if I do have a gay
side? What if it comes out again later on?"

"Again?" I asked. "Again, since when?"

"Since talking with Steve about doing it up the cheerleaders butt and then
him offering up his own. I honestly wanted to do it with him. I think I
only didn't because of you being there. I've been like fantasizing on
trying that since I saw you doing it with the brush as a kid. I kind of had
forgotten about it, but then it started eating at me again since finding
out you were gay," Billy admitted. "When I was fourteen, I went to this
party with mostly older guys from the high school. I wasn't good at holding
my booze back then and I was a little buzzed. Not drunk, just buzzed. This
older dude, not like real older, maybe he was sixteen or something got me
in a bedroom alone and ..."

"What? What did he make you do?" I asked.

"That's just it, he didn't make me do anything. I wanted to. I sucked his
dick and then jacked him off until he shot all over my face." The painful
remorse in his voice was pitiful.

"So you're worried you might be gay like me because you did that and
because you were thinking about fucking Steve? Are you thinking maybe Dad
had some gay in him too because of what he said to the reverend earlier?
Like he passed some kind of gay gene on to me AND to you? Is that why you
wonder if he messed around with that Matthew kid? Is that what this is all
about?" I asked.

"No. Kind of. Not really. Maybe. I just ... why would I do that, if I'm not
that way?"

"Billy, you're not "that way", all right? I just don't see it. Maybe
watching me doing the brush thing messed with your young mind or something,
like it implanted an idea that you linked up with the thrill of
cumming. God! This is so weird. I don't know. For me, having something up
my butt was an important part of the experience. I longed for it and I
still do. Just jacking off without something up there isn't all that
satisfying. I have zero attraction to women. None. On the other hand, I'm
completely fascinated with guys and their bodies, especially penises. Oh my
god, I love penises. I always have been into guys. I can't really say why
it is, but I'm sure it's how I came from the factory. How long has this
been eating away at you, man?"

"Since I did it. No offense, but I don't want to be gay. I really love
Jaime. I know I was a jerk by playing her, but that's over. I really care
about her and I don't get why I still wanted to try the butt thing unless
at least part of me ..."

"No offense taken, bro. I don't want you to be gay either. It's not
easy. So, how was it? Did it satisfy you? I mean, did you get your
curiosity satisfied by doing the cheerleader, or do you still want more?" I
asked.

"No. No way. I wouldn't do it again. I didn't really like it that much to
be honest," stated Billy emphatically.

"Have you wanted to do other stuff with guys, since that time at the
party?" I asked.

"I thought about it a few times. I never did anything else though."

"Who was it with, do I know him?" I asked.

Billy didn't answer at first, then said, "No. No, you wouldn't." I could
tell he was lying and wondered which of my asshole acquaintances took
advantage of him. The list of suspects was pretty long.

"Billy, I think you just need to forget about it. You're not gay, okay?
You're not! I'd be able to tell if you were, and you're definitely not. It
was just a curiosity thing is all. Stop reading into it. I'm sorry if I
messed up your head with my hair brush fetish, but I had no idea you'd even
seen me. Just one more thing I'm responsible for, I guess. One more thing
I've fucked up," I lamented.

"No dude, I love you bro," Billy sincerely said.

"Thanks. It means so much to hear you say it. Love you too, man."  We lay
there in silence after that, working on falling asleep, but it came
hard. My mind was abuzz with all the craziness. Billy broke the silence,
"So do you think Dad did do stuff with that Matthew kid?" Billy asked.

"God! Stop it already. I don't really want to know. Why is that bothering
you so much?" I asked.

"I don't know. Just is, that's all."

"Would you think less of him if he had?" I asked.

"No. Would you?"

"Hell no. If he did do it, he would have done it as a kid. Kids do lots of
things they'd never do later. In a way, maybe I'd be glad if he did. It
would make it easier for him to understand what I'm about, what it's like
for me," I considered.

"Hmmm, yeah. Probably. Good thought."

"Maybe because of what you did, you're better able to deal with having a
gay brother. If so, I'm glad it happened, because it would kill me if you'd
rejected me. Seriously, as much as I hated you taking my spot all the time
on the teams and being the popular stud, I'm closer to you than Karl or
Tom. I really couldn't cope with you not wanting me around."

There was another lengthy, sleepless pause. Billy rolled over and faced me
again. "Shane, you won't tell Dad will you?"

"Tell him what? About you sucking a dick?"

"Yeah, duh. Of course about that. You won't, right?" Billy pleaded.

"Nah. Secret's safe. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my
eye, if I do."

Billy laughed. He reached over and found my bicep. He gave it a squeeze and
said, "You're the best bro ever." He rolled away and we finally fell
asleep.

*****####*****

I wish you all the best. I hope you are all having safe sex and encouraging
others to do likewise. No momentary thrill is worth the risk.
Hans.
H.schreiber@hushmail.com
More of this story to come soon.