Date: Fri, 9 May 2003 14:55:04 EDT From: Writersrealmmm@aol.com Subject: Submission: In Skater's Time 20 In Skaters Time I decided to write about skaters because they are free. Most aren't looking to fit someone else's mold. They are searching for their own reality and often find it. I admire they're grit and the fact they rarely back off in the search for themselves. It's the people who are different, unique, and passionate who have success. It can't be measure in dollars but by degrees of contentment. You can never follow your heart if you're following some asshole in front of you. He's blocking your vision. I hear from the radical right(RR) that our lifestyle is dangerous. These folks say, thousands of gay men have died of AIDS. The height of hypocrisy is when a disease is killing gay men and these types are in power and do nothing. Then they cite the deaths they orchestrated to make their point. How christian. How they do hate us. AIDS is a disease that can be prevented by using your head, the big one. Only fools dance with death. FYI: My audience can't be measured because it is invisible, living in America and around the world. Many of my readers are 40-60 and up, married with families, and others are in relationships, students, teachers, pilots, weatherman, etc. I'd love to hear from you and about your location & profession. We can finally communicate and maybe we should be developing our own statistics. I'll share what I find out. We can't be counted and statistics you read can't be proved. Gay men have always been invisible and will be as long as the RR makes it dangers for us to exist. Once everything that was known about homosexuality came from psychiatrists treating the mentally ill and from prisons, housing criminals. Now they claim they can count us by counting our dead. They only seek to prove their own vitriol. I got a very nice letter from a teacher out there. He wrote about his school writing letters of support to Thomas McLauglin. Isn't that incredible? Thank you, Sir. "...And a child shall lead them." Thomas McLauglin, 14, is a true hero for standing up to the R/R in Arkansas. Chapter 20 Tough Love "The clock is ticking here. I've got things to do and places to go," Dart said, as I stood too close for comfort. "Yeah, me too. I'm running late, Dart." "Running late for what. I'm here now, Z, and it's all warmed up and ready to give you a thrill. I'm not even scared of all those teeth you got. In fact I've found that they give it an extra charge, now that I know you won't circumcise me by mistake." "Dart, I don't have time. I've got to meet someone." "Meet someone? You're too new to have a crush on someone. Come on, Z." "I had a crush on you," I said, not being able to keep my eyes up the entire time I talked and Dart didn't miss anything when it came to his dick. "Z, you're like most new guys. You see a nice dick and you think it's love. It's lust. It's sex. It's a hot cock. It's not love. I got all of that for you." "It's the Dart Torpedo," I mused softly. "The what?" "Your dick looks like a torpedo." "Well, whatever it looks like. It needs attention right now. Come on, Z. We can go over in the woods. No one is around," Dart said, making half a turn toward the spot he had selected for the activities he had in mind. "Dart, I can't. I'm late. I've got to go." "Look, I'll make you a one time only deal. I'll ah... I'll give you some help. I've got to go first cause I can't do it after I cum." "You're saying you'll blow me?" "Sure, you're cool. It isn't something you'll talk about and I probably'll only do it to you this one time." "It's all very interesting but I'm still late and I've still got to go." "What do you want. You want I should fuck you? Tell me and we'll make a deal you like, you know. I can be pretty friendly." "I've got to go," I said, backing away and taking one last look at the way he squeezed himself to get it to swell and stretch to the max. "Maybe later? I'll be around after six thirty." "I've got to go home later." "I thought you had a crush on me," Dart reminded me, closing the distance between us as I backed away from him. "You were right. It probably was just a hot flash from seeing that thing up close." "Come on, Z. Give me a break. I always give you one," Dart pleaded as he let go of his dick to hold out his hands. "I always let you have it when you want it." I turned and skated away having mixed feelings about it all. Yeah I still wanted Dart and I wanted to go back the entire time I skated across the lot away from him. I wanted to go in the woods with him and do anything he wanted to do. I wasn't that interested in him blowing me or fucking me for that matter, since I'd already been fucked by the best, but the Dart Torpedo was still a major attraction in these parts and it still attracted me. I turned my back on it and that wasn't easy to do but I hadn't seen Paul all day and that was even more of a major attraction even if I had to go home shortly after we met. It's what we had planned for the day and I couldn't wait to see him. He was wearing a red tank top and his chest strained against the thin material. His big white arms bulged even when they were resting and his Spandex were holding only soft secrets for my eyes to behold. He watched my approach, never taking his eyes off me, and a smile slowly grew on his face as I got closer. "Hey, hot stuff," he said as I stopped next to him. "Hey yourself. Couldn't you like wear some clothes or something? You know it's hard to miss anything in that getup." "Clothes? What's wrong with this? I wore it especially for you." "It's like advertising everything you got, Paul. I don't want everyone knowing how gorgeous you are," I said, letting my arm brush his as I held my board in front of me. "I've got some long johns from a camping trip in the Cascades. I'll wear those from now on," he said. "Good!" "I will not. I don't like a lot of clothes. Haven't you figured that out by now. Let's go sit at the Food Court. I'm thirsty. I'll buy you a soda." Sitting off to one side in the mostly overcrowded court. We both sipped our sodas and watching each other. "That cool you off some, Z?" "Yeah, but I don't want everyone knowing how hot your are," I said. "They'll be hitting on you and I don't like the idea." "Let them hit. Won't do them any good. I'm taken, Z. I'm all wrapped up." "Yeah, but I met Dart today and I know how that goes." "Look, if you two have been up to what I think you've been up to, the quickest way to piss me off is for you to keep running your mouth. I don't want to know about you and Dart." "We didn't do anything. I said no." "You didn't. You did?" He said, cooling down quickly after starting to turn red. "I didn't. I did," I said, as our eyes got stuck together and there was this sudden warm rush that came over me. His perfect lips were slightly parted and only a few inches from mine as we both leaned into the center of our table. I really wanted to kiss him but the food court in the mall wasn't exactly the place to swear undying love to one another, but it really wasn't necessary to say anything. I could see what was on his face and I was sure he could read mine and so we just leaned and looked and I felt a bit faint. The more time I spent with Paul the crazier I was about him. I'd never felt this way before and it got stronger every day. "Can you get out after dinner? Come over?" "Homework. History paper. I've got to read four chapters in English to make up for what I didn't do over the weekend. I need all my credits to graduate." "You could bring your homework over," Paul suggested, wanting to be helpful. "Yeah, right, and then I could read while you fuck me," I said. "All right," he said. "Yeah, bring all your reading over. I think I can pull that off if it's what you like." "You're not interested in me. You're just interested in a tight asshole," I said, faking disdain. "Well, I must admit, as assholes go, yours is a topper, but the fact it is attached to you makes it the best, dude, and it don't get no better than that," he said, leaning even closer and making my lips quiver with anticipation for the kiss I knew wasn't going to come. I was suddenly feeling very nervous. I looked over at the next table and a girl was sitting on one guys lap while kissing another guy that had to lean over the guy she was sitting on to get to her lips. A chick and a dude held hands as they walked past, oblivious to us. I leaned forward and let my lips touch his lips for only a second while they moved between us and the rest of the court. "God I love you, Z," he said, as our eyes were so engaged that it was impossible to get the distance between us I knew we needed in public. "Me too, Paul. I got to go. Man I want you inside me," I said. "That was awesome. Maybe you should get that house ready. I'll start working on my parents. I can't keep staying away from you this much." "Don't get in any trouble over it. We'll do fine, Z. I'll start cleaning it up." "Make sure there's a good bed is all I care about," I said. "I figure we ought to have something nice where we are going to spend most of our time." "Oh, right, see how you are. You just want me for my big uncut dick is all." "Your point being?" I asked, seeking to get a rise out of him. "Hey, I really got to go." We still sat unmistakably close and the urge to kiss him again was getting stronger but I backed off, even though the world seemed oblivious to our proximity. I thought of calling my parents but I was already late for dinner and that never went over all that well. If I was going to start working toward moving out of the house I had to start doing things they approved of. "Look, you've got to get home. I'm early tomorrow. I'll meet you here after you get out of school. My bus gets here at three fifteen." "I'll be here at three thirty," I said, standing up and rearranging my baggies. "Save that thought. I can match that and raise it if you're interested," Paul said, watching my hand scoot my erection to one side. "I'll skate you to the entrance." Paul stood and his Spandex stretched around a perfect impression of his erection and the tank top fell four inches short of covering the bulging. The skin had disappeared and the head stood out proud in the material as my mouth watered and I contemplated ways of getting out tonight. He held my hand as we got to the empty hall that led to the side of the mall that led me toward my house. My parents were becoming impatient with me. I'd never been late before and now suddenly I was absent or late most of the time and my mind was somewhere else even when I was there. I told them school was getting tougher as we neared graduation but they still weren't happy and I didn't think it was a good time to approach them about moving out. I had the history paper half done and two chapters of my English read when I heard my parents come up to bed. From that point on I couldn't concentrate. I looked at the window and the tree just outsideit out. It wasn't very far to Paul's and we could just go around once and I'd be home in bed by midnight. I loved this plan. I could even get up early and finish my paper before school. I opened the window and the cool fresh evening air felt nice on my face. The tree limbs had grown strong over the years and they easily held my weight. I left the window open and looked back to make sure everything looked normal before dashing out across the street. For one of the few times I'd left my board and was on foot. When I knocked on the back door, Kenny came and opened it. He was in a pair of green nylong shorts and nothing else. "Hey, dude. I don't think he's expecting you or did you come to see me? In which case, come on in." "Don't you have your hands full with that little boy?" I asked rudely. "Nah, it's a school night. He leaves at nine and I've got to take care of things on my own after that. Ah, did he call you? He didn't seem to be... in the mood." "No. I just decided to come over. He asked me too if I could. Took me some time to get out." "Z, you really should call first, you know. I don't think he's expecting you." "Yeah, well, where is he?" I asked. "I'd try the bathroom. You should have called, really. I don't think he wants you to see him in his present condition. Don't tell him I told you." "What condition?" "Like I said, you ought to should call before barging in." The bathroom door was cracked and the light was on and I could hear water running. When I pushed the door open I got a real startling surprise and the bottom dropped directly out of my stomach. "Paul!" I said, as he looked up from the tub. "What happened." One of his eyes was partially closed. He had a fat lip and big bruises on the side of his face, on his chest, and his right arm had a heel print just above his biceps. "Got jumped at the mall," he said, his words incomplete and partially spoken as his mouth failed to work properly. "You look terrible," I said. "You look great," he said in slurred conversation. "One out a two ain't bad." The sink had blood in it and his nostrils were caked with dried blood and his teeth and gums had a red film on them. "Who did it?" "Don't know. They hit me before I knew what was going on. Knocked me down and stomped me." "How many?" "Two, three, four. I really was beyond counting at the time. They hit me pretty hard. I don't think it was a fist." "Did you call the cops?" I asked, feeling helpless and not being sure of what to do. "Cops? You're kidding right? What are the cops going to do?" "Find them," I argued. "I couldn't recognize them. Besides, the cops don't care about fags getting their asses kicked. You need to get with the times, Z. We're on our own. No one cares except the guys that want to kick all our asses." "It's not that bad, Paul. It's just assholes is all." "They don't teach you much in Phoenix, do they? Look, this is just a little reminder of where we stand. We aren't equal in their eyes and never will be. This is how they prove they're superior. Put the fear of god in us. Teach us a lesson in virtue." "It's not like that, Paul. Quit making out it's that bad. Lots of people don't care about that stuff." "No, it's not that bad. They don't kick our asses, not because we bother them but because they're afraid we're happy loving one another. They can't stand it because they fuck love up more than we do. They've got to have a bad guy, and we're it." "What do you want me to do?" I asked. "You want to help me up out of here? I want to be in my bed." "Yeah, grab around my neck and grab that bar and see what we can do," I said, leaning into the tub and putting my hands on the tile across from me. "No! No! Let me down. Oh, man, that smarts. If you had any ideas I was going to play hide the sausage with you tonight, I think you're going to be disappointed." "Paul! It's not funny. What do I do?" "Get Kenny in here. Maybe the two of you can get me out of here. I knew it was a bad idea when I thought it up." Kenny was watching a movie and came running when I told him that Paul was in seriously deep shit. We got him up and into his bed, where I dried him off as he moaned softly every time I touched him. "He needs a doctor. I might not know much but I know that," I said. "How do we get him help?" "No doctors," Paul objected. "I'll be fine." Kenny left and came back a few minutes later. "Craig is coming. He'll drive you to the emergency room," Kenny said. "I don't want to go," Paul said. "How did you get Craig's number." "My momma didn't raise no dummies," Kenny said. "Tough break. You're going," I said and he shut up. I looked in his drawers and pulled out a pair of sweats and some underwear. Kenny helped me dress him and a tall older guy was standing in the doorway of the bedroom about ten minutes later. "What the fuck happened to you?" "Got jumped," Paul struggled with the words that sounded too big for his mouth. "Yes you did. I saw this guy kick a huge football player's ass one night at the House. Took that fucker apart. I don't think he ever laid a glove on you, did he Paul? I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley, that's for sure. Something tells me this wasn't a fair fight." Paul just moaned at the memory of whatever it was Craig was retelling. We all took a hand at getting him in the car and headed toward the nearest emergency room. No one said anything for the first five minutes. Paul lay on the backseat and I sat in the middle in the front. Kenny kept watching his brother as Craig drove casually through lights that seemed to cooperate with our journey. "Bart still coming up," Paul said from the dark in the back. "Oh yeah. Most weekends." "How old is he now?" Paul asked more clearly. "He's sixteen," Craig said. "He was fifteen when he first came up?" "You were sixteen Paul. There are gay fifteen year olds." "Only a kid," Paul slurred. "Tell him that. He liked you. Wanted to know where you went to. I think he would have come over if I had told him where you lived." "Good thing you didn't," Paul snapped. "I'd a kicked...." He broke off and a small groan replaced the words. He held his side and lay his head down on the seat. "Whose Bart?" I asked. "Chicken Fillet," Kenny said. "Replaced Paul at the House. He was jealous. Couldn't handle the competition. It's hell when you get old." "Was not?" Paul argued. "Why'd you stop coming up?" Craig questioned but there wasn't a reply. "He was young," Kenny said. "I knew he was younger an me." "When were you up there?" Paul asked. "When did you stop going up?" "You little fucker." "When they find out and come up, they don't care about anything but finding a place where they can finally be accepted. We don't reject anyone if we can avoid it," Craig said. "Lots of brothers are bi or gay and they know what it's like being alone. They come up and we let them do what they want as long as it stays in the house. They don't do anything in public areas and what they do they only do in a gay or bi brother's room." "Damn, I wouldn't have known what to do," I said. "I didn't have a clue before I moved out here." "You probably wouldn't have come up either. Guys who are looking for a connection find us. Most of the guys are eighteen and nineteen, maybe twenty, and that isn't far from fifteen and sixteen, believe me. Time flies in high school and more so in college. We don't judge guys who go through what we went through." "If I knew about it I would have gone," I said. "There was a park in Phoenix. I kept going over there hoping someone would show me what to do." "You wouldn't of had that problem at the House," Paul said. "They line up." "You didn't complain before Bret came up. You just didn't like where the guys lined up once he discovered us. New meat is always popular, Paul. You cornered the market for quite a few months. You can't be the center of attention forever, you know." "Yeah," Paul said, sounding bitter. The driveway was lit with huge high intensity lights from above and it flooded into the car as Craig steered up to the emergency entrance at Scripts. He pulled to a stop in front and went inside. "Paul, you okay?" I asked. "Yeah, peachy keen. I'm a little sick at my stomach. You better get me out of here before I blow chunks in Craig's car." In less than a minute there was a white coated dude pushing a wheelchair full speed toward the car door. Craig helped the dude lift Paul out of the back seat with much protest from him. The Intern waved over the roof of the car and a gurney appeared with two more white suited jockeys racing it toward the car. They eased Paul out of the wheelchair and laid him flat, rushing him into the hospital. "You can't park here. They'll tow it. Better go into the big lot," the first guy said to Craig as he was following the gurney. I climbed out past Kenny and followed the gurney in through the automatic doors. There were a half a dozen people sitting around and little activity once they rolled Paul out of my view. People lingered in the long haul and nurses worked behind a big white counter in the center of the floor. "Hi, I'm Z," I said to the youngest nurse. "Hi, Z, what can I do for you today?" She said in a most pleasant voice. "That's my friend. How do I find out what they're doing to him?" "Look, Z, they'll be busy for a little while. Once they decide what to do I'll let you know, but for now, go over to the chairs and try to relax. They're doctors and he's in good hands." Kenny and Craig came in and looked around before coming over to sit with me in the corner. I was crying and had a hard time talking at first. "He's going to be okay. It was only a fight," Kenny said. "It was my fault. I kissed him at the mall," I confessed. "Look, B," Craig said, "You look like a smart kid." "Z," Kenny said as I cried harder. "Whatever," Craig said, "I'm not a great brain but I do know one thing, you ain't responsible for people being stupid or being mean. What you did has nothing to do with what they did. There are people out there that will hurt you for no other reason than you are alive and breathing air they want for themselves." "If I hadn't kissed him he wouldn't have been beat up," I said. "It's all my fault." "He wasn't beat up. He was attacked and assaulted," Craig said. "I called the cops on my cell. They'll be checking it out." "Paul didn't want to come to the hospital and he probably won't want to talk to the cops," I said. "Yeah, well, Paul doesn't get to decide any more. I'm a big boy and I do what's right. Paul wants to play some macho game because he's gay, but you can't do it alone. Even if they won't help at least we'll try to get these creeps so they can't hurt anyone else. Okay?" "He went after a guy over at the movies a few weekends back," I said. "Went after?" Craig asked. "As in...." "He called us faggots because I was touching Paul's leg while we skated. Paul backed him up into the parking lot and made him apologize in front of his friends." "Okay! See, the picture comes clearer. There's nothing wrong with standing up for your self, and Paul does that pretty well, but some guys have nothing but muscle between their ears. The guy from the movies might have been looking for a chance to get even." "He had two guys with him," I said. "Could explain why he never saw it coming. They made sure they hit him while he wasn't looking. That's about the speed of bigots. They can't stand up face to face. They've got to stand in the shadows and hit you while you aren't looking. Just don't you be blaming yourself, B, Z, whatever your name is. These guys don't need reasons. Your parents on a budget or something when you were born?" "What's that mean?" "Z is a pretty cheap name if you ask me. Sounds like an economy move." "It's spelled Z-e-e but no one knows that." "Sounds like Z to me." Craig eased back in his seat and held my hand while Kenny leaned forward in his seat and held the other hand. I felt odd not knowing Craig and I felt odder since I was going with Kenny's brother and I wasn't sure why I felt that way. ***** When you send me a check for the book please put your email address in the note so I can notify you. You don't know how many guys with the first same first name and similar email addresses write me. I have a pecguy -- pecman - btmpecguy, several guys, a guyman. If I don't correspond with you on a regular basis, I won't recognize a simple email address or just your name unless we communicate regularly and you use that name. Just to be safe, everyone put in your email address so it's easy to contact you with any news. We are still looking at a late May release date. For those of you who send your checks early, I will be sending out your personalized copy the day I receive them, and thanks for your support. I write for you in an effort to make it better for all of us. Contact me if you want to get on the first day list. The book will be available in June at Barnes & Noble and Amazon, on-line, and I'll sign copies for you if you write me and ask for my address. I can only take checks and I can't take checks from overseas. My overseas reader will have to buy from Amazon or Barnes & Noble via the Internet. Please tell your friends about me, these stories, and my website: www.writersrealm.net quillswritersrealm@hahooo.com