This
story
concerns teenage gay males who are
involved in sexual situations. If it is illegal for you to read such
stories,
or if you do not like to read such stories, please leave now.
This story
is copyright 2006 by the author
who retains all rights.
This is a
work of fiction. Names,
characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living
or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This
chapter has a part that describes
sexual abuse. The author does not condone this type of behavior, but
the
activity described is critical to a specific character’s personality.
Also,
this chapter describes a violent assault on a child. The author does
not
condone this type of behavior, either, but, as with the previous case,
the
activity described is critical to a specific character.
This
is my second submission to Nifty. This is a
continuation of “Kiel’s Story”
which was last posted on 7/24/06. It is not
necessary to read “Kiel’s Story”
to enjoy this, but it may help you
understand where the character relationships started. Any comments or
questions
are welcome at: carl_holiday@att.net
A warm
thank you goes out to all who’ve
written. I appreciate knowing someone is actually reading this stuff. I
try to
respond to all, including flames, but time is precious in my life, so
if I
didn’t answer yours, please accept my apology.
Tim and the Corsair
by Carl Holiday
Chapter 5 – A Day With Peter
I
was crying when I
woke up
New Years Day. I’d never done that before, actually wake up practically
blubbering. The dream had been about Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith torturing
me to
tell them where Tim was hiding. I’d been having nightmares, but this
was the
first dream where I wasn’t shocked awake. This dream seemed to go on
forever as
Mr. Jones’ cue stick and knife bruised and bloodied me. Each jab,
slice, poke,
scrape was accompanied by Mr. Smith asking his questions in a whiney
sing-song.
I was crying, asking them to stop. I was screaming as the pain slowly
increased
until I couldn’t take anymore of it; and, then I saw it was Tim who was
being
tortured. I woke up with tears streaming out of my eyes, snot clogging
my nose,
and my lips soaked with drool. I reached for Sam, but he was not in the
bed.
I looked at the
alarm clock.
It was ten after nine. Mother set out
New Years brunch at exactly ten o’clock. Dad went first and always took
the two
fried eggs, leaving the
scrambled eggs for my older brother Karl, my older sister Trudy, and
me. I
could smell the bacon cooking. Mother was still doing brunch even
though Dad
was dead, Karl was somewhere in Southeast Asia keeping the Communist
dominoes from falling into Australia, and Trudy living in Oregon where
she was attending college. Of course,
we now
had Doctor Randall, Sam, Johnny, and Peter, plus Trudy was bringing
Sally back
home sometime around noon,
so there were sufficient people for brunch.
I figured Sam was
in the
bathroom, but when I opened the door he wasn’t in there. I took care of
my
problem then when across the hall to Johnny’s room. The door was open
and the
bed had been made. No one was in the room. Something was up and no one
told me.
When I got back to
my room I
saw the note leaning against the Corsair.
Geoff,
Johnny
and I have gone to Mark’s to watch football games. We’ll have fun when
I get
back.
Hugs,
Sam
I stared at the
words
wondering why he hadn’t told me yesterday or whenever he received the
invitation. Sam was certainly going all out to win Mark’s friendship.
At least
I didn’t have to worry about Sam seducing Mark, or did I?
When I entered the
kitchen
Doctor Randall was drinking coffee while Mother worked at putting the
brunch
together.
“Morning, Geoff,”
Doctor
Randall said. “Have any New Years’ resolutions?”
“Yeah, get a new
shrink,” I
said. “Mother, did you know Peter and Johnny went to Mark’s for the
day?”
“Yes we did, honey.
Timothy
just got back from taking them over there. Why would you want to change
psychiatrists? Timothy has been treating you for a long time.”
“I don’t want to
talk to my
step-father about personal things,” I said.
“But, honey,
Timothy isn’t
your step-father.”
“Yet, you mean.”
“Geoff, are you
upset that
I’m here?” Doctor Randall asked. He had his psychiatrist face on. I
wasn’t
certain which face I liked best; this one or the “I fucked your mother
last
night” face.
“No, Sam, Johnny,
and Peter
need you and I understand you have to be here, but I don’t think I’ll
be able
to be open with you like I have been. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Geoff, I
understand. I
don’t think it’ll be a problem, but I’ll try to find you someone else.
Now, I
think you should go wake up Peter and tell him he has to wear clothes
to
brunch.”
“Yes, sir,” I said
to the
step-father face.
Since the boys
moved in,
Peter had been spending most of his time in his underwear. No one said
anything
because the boys were getting settled; and, it really wasn’t that big
of a
problem since Sally was down in Oregon with her sister. That was going
to change
today.
After not hearing
an answer
to my knock, I opened Peter’s door and saw him sleeping peacefully in
his bed
with Mr. Crowley held firmly against his chest. The bedcovers
were
down around his ankles. He was naked. He had a hard-on and it was
trying its
best to fuck Mr. Crowley. Well, the teddy bear was practically half as
big as
he was. Peter was small, short, wiry, not skinny. He had dark brown,
wavy hair.
His skin was white, translucent like parchment. I wished my right arm
wasn’t in
a cast braced up at a ninety degree angle in front of me to heal my
collarbone
as I wanted to pick him up and hold him to me; except, I couldn’t bend
over
because my left leg was still in the cast to heal my kneecap; the
badges of a
loser.
I sat down on the
bed behind
Peter and lightly touched his shoulder.
“Come on, Johnny,
let me put
it in,” he whispered. “I love you, Johnny.”
“Peter? It’s time
to wake
up,” I said, not loud, as I jostled his shoulder.
“Huh, oh, fuck!”
He scrambled for
something to
cover himself, but then simply lay back on the pillow with his stiff
dick
pointing up at me. He shut is eyes and said, “Rub it for a sec’, will
ya?”
I knew what he
wanted and I
didn’t care. I wrapped my hand around his erection and started to jerk
him. He
was ready, readier than I thought because I hadn’t gotten up to a good
rhythm
before globs of semen shot out of him hitting him in the forehead,
chin, neck,
and down his chest.
“Thanks, the teddy
bear
wasn’t in the mood,” Peter said, opening his eyes and staring into
mine. They
were dark orbs full of desired and mischief; our own little Loki.
“I shouldn’t have
done that,”
I said. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I won’t tell
Sam. Am I
supposed to get up now?”
“Yes, and take a
shower.
Brunch is at ten. You don’t have much time because you’ll have to help
me with
my sponge bath.”
“Can I suck your
dick, too?”
“No! You need to
put clothes
on, today. Mother wants you to look nice for brunch; and, Sally is
coming home,
today. She doesn’t need to see a randy thirteen year old running around
here in
his underwear.”
“Almost fourteen.”
“Okay, almost
fourteen. Now,
get up and get in the shower.”
“Why can’t I suck
you?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because that’s
Sam’s dick.”
“God, Geoff! I
don’t want to
put it in a shoebox. I just want your dick in my mouth. It’s not my
fault Sam
isn’t here.”
“Did you know about
them
being gone, too?”
“Everybody knows.”
“Not, me.”
“Sam didn’t tell
you?”
“No.”
I guess he thought
I was
going to cry because he sat up and put his arms around me pulling me
into a
very close and firm hug.
“You’re getting
come all over
my robe,” I said, pushing him away from me. “Now, get in the shower.
When
you’re done put some clothes on and come upstairs to help me. Maybe I
will let
you suck me.”
“Great, I’ll be out
in a
minute,” he said getting in a quick peck on my lips before heading for
the
toilet he shared with Sam. “Grab me some briefs and whatever else you
want me
to wear. I can never decide.”
Needless to say,
brunch was
not a great success as far as I was concerned. I guess that’s what
happens to
family traditions when parents die and the kids drift away into their
own
lives. It was just Mother and me now. Doctor Randall and Peter were
there, but
Doctor Randall wasn’t Dad and Peter wasn’t Karl, Trudy, or Sally.
Mother had
planned on having Sam and Johnny there, but without them our little
party had
little cheer. I think Mother’s biggest problem was that she wasn’t used
to
having four crazy boys in her house. It was bad enough putting up with
my near
death experiences all the time, but to have three more teenage boys
whose last
residence was a four bed ward in a private psychiatric hospital was a
bit too
much to expect. She was getting a little frazzled herself.
Peter looked cute
in the faded
blue jeans I laid out for him. They made his ass looked totally,
absolutely
desirable. He tried to be a nice, normal thirteen, almost fourteen,
year old
boy, but he wasn’t raised by his mother to be anything close to nice or
normal.
When he was helping with my sponge bath—and, no, I did not let him suck
my
dick—Peter told me about growing up with a mother whose best friend was
her
pusher/pimp. He’d spend time in foster care then come home when his
mother was
sober then it was off to another foster home when she started shooting
up
again. When he was seven she started renting him out to men who liked
little
boys. She’d take the money to buy drugs, first, then food, second, and
if there
was anything left after that it went for rent and utilities. When he
was eleven
he started going out on his own to find men. When he was twelve he
discovered
the happiness hidden in the stuff his mother was injecting into her
veins. He
was nearly thirteen when luck almost ran out and he was picked up by a
man who
couldn’t get an orgasm unless his victim was bruised and bleeding.
Peter’s last
bit of luck was screaming loud enough for someone to call the cops.
After
spending some time at the county juvenile facility, he was sent out to
Doctor
Randall at the psycho farm.
We sat at the
dinette eating
eggs, bacon, pastries, and drinking, Mother’s special treat for New
Years,
orange juice laced with curacao and rum. I don’t know whether Doctor
Randall
approved, but I could tell Peter knew exactly what was in the juice and
probably in what proportions. Unfortunately for him, children only get
one ten ounce glass. You have to make it last
because you’re
not going to get another one until next year. Peter whined so much that
Doctor
Randall sent him to his room. This definitely wasn’t turning out to be
a
memorable New Years.
After helping to
clean up, I
went to Peter’s door and knocked. He didn’t answer. I wanted company
today, so
I broke a house rule and opened the door. All of Peter’s clothes were
piled in
the floor beside his bed. He was under the covers holding Mr. Crowley.
I could
barely hear him softly weeping. He didn’t move when I sat down on his
bed and
began to lightly caress his bare shoulder.
“What can I do to
make your
day special?” I asked. I didn’t want him sulking or worse, staying in
bed all
day.
“Lick my ass while
I jack
off, then shove that dick of yours up my ass and fuck me like you’ve
never
fucked before.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“But . . .”
“No, buts. I
haven’t been
rimmed in over a year and that guy wanted me to come all over his belly
then
rub it all over his dick before he made me sit down on his cock. You
can’t
imagine, Geoff. You can’t imagine what it felt like having his tongue
in my
ass.”
I sat there on his
bed as he
stared at me. I’d never done that or had that done to me. I’d heard
about it
from Kiel, but actually wanting to do it was way down
on my
list of things to be accomplished before I died. What troubled me more
was
Peter’s nonchalant attitude, as if licking a guy’s ass was something
everyone
did, as if it was normal. I could have left at that moment. I
could have
stopped this.
“Not here, we’ll
have to go
up to my room,” I said, not believing these words were coming out of my
mouth.
“Put some clothes on. No, you have to put clothes on to go up to my
room. I’ll
go talk to Doctor Randall. Then you’re going to have to apologize to
Mother and
Doctor Randall for your little scene at brunch.”
I knew this was
going to be
hard for him. In many ways, Peter was still a little kid who threw
temper
tantrums, then acted as if nothing ever happened. His world was outside
anything any normal person would expect. He’d been basically
on his own
down in the lower reaches of society doing things to survive that any normal
person would never consider doing, ever.
“Now, get up and
get dressed.
I’ll go out with you, but let me talk to them first.”
“Are you really
going to fuck
me?” Peter asked.
He just said he
wanted me to
do that. I knew there had to be some sort of involvement on my part
because
that was the way Peter worked. Give and take, tit for tat, I do this,
you do
that, and we’re best buds for the rest of the hour, day, week, or
however long
we can keep this going before one of us fucks up and we’re no longer
buds.
“You said you
wanted me to
fuck you?”
He suddenly looked
scared,
very scared. It was like there was a big, ugly ogre standing behind me
ready to
rip my head off. I turned to look, but there wasn’t anything or anyone
there.
The door was shut.
“What’s wrong?”
“You can’t fuck
me,” Peter
whispered. “I just remembered Sam said you and I are not to do any sex
with
each other. He’ll probably kill me for having you jack me off this
morning.”
Tears were in his
eyes. He
turned his face into Mr. Crowley and started bawling. I’d never seen
him like
this. I’d never seen a person so crazy they’d act like this. There was
a knock
at the door.
“Yes, come in,” I
said, not
knowing what to do. Tim was practically screaming. I was too scared to
move.
Doctor Randall came in. He didn’t seem to upset about how Peter was
acting.
“What set him off?”
Doctor
Randall asked.
“Something about
Sam telling
him not to do something,” I said, not wanting to get sex into the
conversation.
“Sam has control
issues,”
Doctor Randall said. “Why don’t you go up to your room and I’ll get
Peter to
calm down. I’ll send him up when he’s better. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” I
said.
Peter was starting
to shake
and shiver like someone having an epileptic fit. I’d never seen him
like this
before. I’d never seen Peter so out of control.
“Can I come in?”
Peter asked
at my door.
Unlike the other
three crazy
boys in our house, I left my door open. It was sort of a signal to
Mother,
Sally, and Dad, when he was still alive, that it was okay to come in. A
closed
door meant I didn’t want to be disturbed. It worked for everyone,
except Sally,
but she was little and was expected to break the rules. She’d actually
seen me
jacking off one Saturday morning when I slept in. She ran and told
Mother, who
scolded her for opening my closed door. I was told to take care of
myself in
the bathroom. There was a lock on that door.
“Feeling better?” I
asked. I
probably shouldn’t have said that. Some crazies are sensitive about
having
someone acknowledge their craziness.
“I’m sorry I said
what I
did,” Peter said sitting down on the bed next to me.
We stared at the
opposite
wall. I reached behind his back and grabbed a shoulder, pulling him
against me.
I wanted to show him everything was okay, but he tensed and pulled out
of my
embrace.
“No! Stop it! Sam
said we
can’t do this,” Peter whispered, as if Sam was out in the hall
listening.
“I’m not doing
anything,” I
said feeling tears welling up in my eyes. I wanted Peter to like me. I
wasn’t
looking for him to participate in some sexual orgy. “I just want to be
your
friend.”
“Then don’t touch
me or Sam
will hit me, again.”
“Sam hits you?”
“When I’m naughty
and don’t
do what he says.”
“Peter you’re
practically
fourteen years old. You’re only two years, three months younger than
Sam.
You’re not some little kid he can beat up just because he says you
can’t do
something.”
“You sound like
Doctor Tim,
but you don’t know Sam.”
“No, I don’t know
Sam all
that well.”
“But, he sleeps
with you.
And, you have sex.”
“Once.”
“Only once?”
“Yeah, just once.”
“But he talks like
you’re his
possession, or something. Hands off Geoff or I’ll punch you in the
nuts.”
“He said that?”
“Yeah, or something
to that
effect.”
“Wow, Sam a bully.
I never
imagined.”
“He likes you. He
won’t hurt
you. You’re big, like him. He only picks on me. He tried it once on
Johnny, but
Johnny punched him in the nose and made it bleed. He doesn’t mess with
Johnny
anymore.”
“Maybe you need to
punch him,
too.”
“Do you know why
he’s with
us?”
“No.”
I didn’t know. I
thought it
was because he was suicidal, like me, but I didn’t know the reason he
tried to
kill himself. Then, I didn’t really know why sweet Johnny was with us,
either.
“You’ll have to get
him to
tell you.”
“Why don’t you tell
me?”
“And have him try
to kill me,
too?”
“He’d tried to kill
someone?”
“Oh, gawd, he’s
going to,
he’s going to . . .”
He was getting out
of
control, again. I pulled him into a hug and held him tight against me
as he
struggled to get away from me. I started shushing him like I was a
nanny or
even a motherly type person. He was fighting me to get away, but I held
on. I
wasn’t going to let him get away. I wanted to know about Sam, but I
didn’t want
to upset Peter. We had all day and I didn’t want Doctor Randall to have
to give
him a sedative to calm him down.
I didn’t know what
to expect,
but I suddenly became aware, as Peter was calming down, his hand was in
my
crotch, rubbing me. I pushed him away, even though he was softly
weeping.
“Why does it have
to be sex?”
I asked. I smiled, not wanting him to be afraid I was mad.
“That’s what I do.
Okay?
That’s why I’m here. It might have been my addiction that got me in
here, but
sex is why I’m still here. I do sex with guys. I like having a guy’s
cock in my
mouth. I like the taste of come. I like it when a guy shoves his dick
up my ass
and fucks me. Only, I’m not like that. Geoff, I like girls. I want to
grow up,
go to college, find some hot babe, and make babies. But, I can’t. Every
time I
get close to a guy I want to have sex with him. Right now, right this
minute, I
want to unzip your pants and take out your cock and give you the best
blow job
you’ve ever had. I want to like you, Geoff. I want you to like me. But,
I can’t
do it because Sam said I can’t.”
“I like you.”
“Because I said you
can fuck
me.”
“No, I like you
because you’re
Peter. I like you because you’re here with me now. I like you.”
And, I did
something I didn’t
want to do. I put my hand behind his head and pulled his face toward
mine. I
kissed him. I kissed him hard and pushed my tongue into his mouth. And,
I held him
against me as I kept kissing him.
“Damn it! Damn it
all to
hell. Why do I have to have this stupid arm in a cast? Damn it, Peter,
I want
to hold you. I want to kiss you. I want to.”
He pulled away from
me and
got up. He walked across the room and sat down at my desk. I lay down
on the
bed.
Silence enveloped
us.
After a while, a
couple
minutes, an hour, a day, however long it was I became aware of someone
beside
me. I must have been asleep, or something. I was hard and a hand was
lightly
rubbing me through my pants. I felt my zipper go down and my cock being
pulled
out. I didn’t move. I didn’t want this to stop. I couldn’t stop what
was going
to happen.
The feeling was
warm, moist,
enveloping my cock. Fingers were kneading my balls. I didn’t have the
will to
stop what was happening. I felt the tingle in my balls, my groin, my
ass
throbbed, the tip of my cock burned. I pressed my eyes shut as the
orgasm
shuddered through my body sending burst after burst of come into
Peter’s mouth.
Tears filled my eyes and I thought of Tim.
“Make sure my door
is
locked,” I said. I waited as the body next to me left the bed and
returned
shortly. “The lube is in my top dresser drawer. I want you in me. I
want you in
me, right now. Don’t stop to think about what someone might say, what
someone
might do. Just put that hard cock of yours where I want it and do what
you have
to do.”
I kept my eyes shut
as my
pants and underwear were pulled down. I rolled onto my side and bent my
right
leg, exposing myself. Peter was on his knees straddling my left thigh,
pushing
himself into me. He was in as far as he could go. Then he pulled out a
little
and pushed back in. Out, in, out, in, gradually pulling out almost all
the way
before plunging back in. He leaned over me, placing his hands on the
bed on
either side of me and kept forcefully thrusting in and quickly pulling
out.
This was hard ass fucking. This is what I wanted. This is what he
needed.
I could hear him
breathing
hard as his orgasm came upon him. His enraged cock slammed into me
repeatedly,
hardly pulling out before slamming in again as he filled me with his
anger. He
was crying. I felt his tears dropping onto my bare skin, but he stayed
in until
his cock softened.
Peter smiled and I
smiled. I
turned to lie on my back and he lay down beside me. We slept.
I dreamt of Tim. We
were on a
bed somewhere, anywhere. He was naked straddling my face and I was
licking his
ass, driving him wild. Come shot out of his little boy dick splattering
my
erection with a thick, gooey mess. He got up, bent down to kiss me, and
his ass
slipped down onto my dick. We continued to kiss deeply as I thrust into
him. He
raised himself off me and gobs of come spewed from his dick hitting me
in the
face. A car door slammed shut and then another.
My eyes opened.
Peter and I
were hard as rocks. I poked him in the ribs.
“Hey, why’d you
wake me up? I
was having the most pleasant dream. You had your face buried in my ass.”
“Funny, I had the
same
dream.”
“Now, that’s weird.
Talk
about crazy. That is definitely crazy.”
“Trudy and Sally
are here. We
need to get cleaned up and dressed.”
“Aw, shit! I was
hoping we
could go again.”
“Not today. Now
hurry up.
Sally’s going to be up here in a minute or so.”
“I’m hurrying. A
guy can go
only so fast with his friend’s hard-on bobbing in his face.”
“I’ll bob it into
your ass if
you’re not careful.”
“Promises,
promises, all I
hear are promises. Here stuff it in here, but you’ll have to lick it
first. No
lickee, no fuckee, crazy boy.”
“Hurry up, pick up
our
clothes and get into the bathroom. And, stop wiggling your ass at me.
It’s cute
enough without having to perform a silly dance.”
As I shut the
bathroom door,
I heard someone trying to get in my bedroom door. Sally was quicker
than I
thought. I turned to Peter and he was still hard, his cock bobbing in
rhythm
with his heart. I wanted him but there was no time. Suddenly, Johnny’s
bathroom
door swung open.
“Oh, there you
are,” Sally
said, her eyes quickly widening as two hard-ons stared back at her.
“Get out of here,”
I said,
but she wasn’t moving as her eyes flicked from Peter’s cock to mine.
“Go away!”
“Trudy said,” Sally
started,
but tears welled up in her eyes as she realized she was in trouble,
again. She
shut the door, but I could hear her on the other side.
“What do you want?”
I asked.
“Trudy said to ask
you if you
and Peter want to go to the zoo. You won’t tell Mommy I saw you and
Peter
naked, will you?”
“No, and yes we
want to go to
the zoo. We’ll be down in a little bit.”
“Okay.”
“She just walks in,
doesn’t
she,” Peter said, turning to me and grabbing my stiff cock. “Sit down
on the
toilet.”
He straddled my
left leg and
shoved his ass in my face.
“Kiss it,” he said.
“Go on,
you dreamt of it, now do it. I know you want to. Kiss it, damn it!”
Now was the time
for me to
say no. I could easily set a limit to my sexual activities at this
moment. All
I had to do was say no. All I had to do was push Peter’s ass out of my
face. I
didn’t have to do this. He was younger than me, littler. He had no say
in what I
did. He couldn’t force me to kiss his ass.
I moistened my lips
and
pressed them against his pucker. My tongue reached out and flattened
itself
against his tender skin. I could smell his musky odor. My cocked
throbbed
excitedly as ran my tongue over this place of desire. I’d never been
here, this
close. I didn’t know exactly what I should do. I did know not to over
analyze
my actions. Lips and tongue are all I had to use to give Peter
pleasurable
feelings, so I set them to work.
I must have been
doing something
right because I felt a familiar rhythm as Peter’s hand attacked his
cock. This
is what he asked of me and I didn’t want to let him down. I brought my
left
hand up between his legs and began to knead his balls. He responded
with a
gurgling groan. Then without thinking what I was doing, my tongue
slipped into
him pulling against his tight muscle. His response wasn’t totally
unexpected.
“Oh gawd, Geoff, oh
man, oh
jeez, oh gawd, Geoff, um, uh, oh jeez, oh FUCK!”
He tensed up as
every muscle
in his body focused on spewing out gobs of semen.
I pulled away from
him
sitting back on the toilet. He stood up, turned, then planted his lips
on mine.
He was holding my face against his when he straddled me and slowly
lowered
himself down onto my erection. I winced from the lack of lubrication,
but he continued
to press downwards. I’d never imagined he could be so tight. He pulled
up then
pressed down forcing me deeper inside. He pulled up once more then
quickly
dropped back down and came up almost immediately. His lips were pressed
against
mine, his tongue probing deep into my mouth. I wanted to hold him, but
the cast
on my right arm was getting in my way.
Peter was setting
the tempo
of the fuck. He’d pull up almost to where he was completely off me,
then go down
quickly forcing me into him. I was so lost in the rhythm of him
bouncing up and
down on my cock, the orgasm came upon me almost as a surprise. I wanted
to
force him down on me. I wanted to hold him, but there was nothing I
could do to
stop him. My orgasm came and went and still Peter worked his ass on me.
“Stop! Peter stop,
please,
stop,” I mumbled. “Peter, stop, please.”
He settled down on
me and
stared into my eyes. He looked empty, as if all of this brought back
some bad
memory locked away in some hidden corner of his mind. There was a
trickle of
saliva running out of the corner of his mouth. He was hard, again.
“Suck me,” he said
as he
stood up. He pushed his cock into my mouth and before I was ready he
began to
thrust deeply into me. In only a moment, he tensed again, but only a
dribble
came out. He had nothing more to give.
The trip to the zoo
was
another bust for the day. Doctor Randall got roped into taking us as
Trudy
wanted to spend time with Mother. Then all Sally wanted to talk about
was how
Peter’s winkie was different from mine. “Peter’s winkie is cuter than
Geoff’s,”
she’d say before being shushed by Doctor Randall. Then she’d go at it
again,
“Geoff’s winkie is ugly.” Peter sat with me in the backseat of Doctor
Randall’s
powder blue El Dorado almost peeing his pants from laughing so hard as
Sally
went on and on about how come boy’s winkies got big and stiff when most
of the
time they were tiny, little soft things.
Then it started
raining,
really pouring down, when we arrived at the zoo. Nobody said anything,
we just
watched the rain. Finally, Doctor Randall started up the car and we
went home.
Peter and I ended
up playing
Chutes and Ladders with Sally, but my heart wasn’t in it, neither was
my mind.
All of my New Years Day traditions were gone with the death of my
father.
Nothing was the same any more.
“Hey, it’s your
turn,” Peter
said, slugging me in the arm.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I
was just
thinking about how New Years Day isn’t the same for me anymore,” I
said, as I
rolled the die, moved two spaces and slid down two rows. I did not like
this
game, either. “I suppose you don’t have that problem considering how
you were
raised.”
“Oh, my mother
wasn’t bad all
the time,” Peter said as he rolled the die, moved four spaces, and slid
down
one row. “Actually, we had a tradition when I was little. Mother always
made
black-eyed peas, they’re supposed to bring good luck in the coming
year. She’d
put a ham bone in the pot for flavor and we’d have turnip greens,
spinach, or
sometimes collard greens, and cornbread, too. When I was seven she got
two
hundred dollars from this guy who was having a football party at his
house. He
was having a bunch of his college buddies over to watch the football
games and
he thought it would be kind of neat to have a boy there with the
sandwiches,
beer, and chips.”
“Hey, Peter, it’s
your turn,”
Sally said.
He picked up the
die and
rolled a two and moved two spaces and slid down another row. Then he
said, “I
had a ham sandwich and he let me drink a beer, then he took me into his
bedroom
and I made him happy. I’d never done anything like that. I guess he
gave mother
the extra hundred because I was a virgin. He left and another guy came
in to
get happy. There were eight of them and they all had a good time. The
next year
mother only got a hundred because I was used goods. That’s what the guy
called
me, used goods. When he brought me home the year I was nine, he gave
mother a hundred
dollar tip because I knew how to use my mouth and they seemed to like
that
better because they didn’t have to gag me or tie me to the bed as they
had to
do in previous years. I just stayed out with them and drank beer and
sucked
their cocks. Mother stopped making black-eyed peas when I was seven. I
stopped
having good luck.”
“You sad a bad
word,” Sally
said. “I’m going to tell Mommy.”
“I’m going to my
room,” Peter
said, getting to his feet. “I don’t feel well.”
“Hey, we’re not
done with the
game,” Sally said.
He looked at her,
then at me.
Tears were in his eyes.
“Go on, the game
isn’t
important,” I said.
Peter gave me a
faint smile,
wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and walked away.
“Geoff, how can we
play?”
“Peter has to go
lie down for
a while,” I said and thought how horrible it must be to have a New
Years Day
tradition like that. It definitely wasn’t something to look forward to.
“Roll
the die.”
“It’s not my turn,
it’s
yours.”
“Oh, okay,” I said,
as I
rolled a four and moved four spaces. Sally rolled and moved her piece.
“Geoff! It’s your
turn.
Mommy! Geoff won’t play with me. Mommy!”
I half watched her
run into
the kitchen where the others were talking, but I wasn’t thinking of
playing
this silly game. I half crawled, half rolled to the coffee table, and
turned
and twisted myself to get off the floor. It’s definitely not a good
idea to get
down on the floor when you have one arm and one leg in casts because
it’s
damned near impossible to get back up.
It was only a
little after
two and Sam and Johnny weren’t expected home until nearly seven. I
definitely
didn’t want to go comfort Peter and get finagled into having sex with
him. He
was nice, but three times in one morning was a bit much.
The only problem I
had was I
didn’t have anything to do. With my right arm in a cast, I couldn’t go
out and
throw the basketball at the backboard, but then I hadn’t done much of
that
since Kiel died. I didn’t have any hobbies. That was
the
problem. I was so fucking intelligent I couldn’t do anything except
read and
learn foreign languages. Some hobby that was, but I was good at it.
I was maybe eleven
when I
used to go to the library down at the University to read the Chinese
books. It
was easier for me to get there than downtown Seattle; and, Mother
didn’t seem
to mind because the trolley went right there from the junction, one
bus, one
trolley, and hardly any chance for a smart kid to get lost. I could get
lost. I
was good at that, too.
Anyway, one day I
was down at
the library reading a really neat book about Chiang Kai-shek and one of
the
librarians came up and bumped my shoulder. I looked up at her and went
back to
reading.
“What are you doing
here?”
She asked. She was new. I hadn’t met her before. She didn’t know my
godfather
said it was okay for me to come to the library.
“Reading this book.
It’s
quite good.” I said “quite” a lot when I was eleven. I thought it made
me sound
English. I’d met an expert in Norwegian poetry at my godfather’s house
and he
was from England. He was so cool because he didn’t mind
talking about
Norwegian poetry with a little kid who also spoke Norwegian like a
native. I
worked really, really hard to lose my American accent.
“Uh, huh, I think
you should
leave. This isn’t a public library and you can’t make me believe you’re
reading
that book.”
She grabbed me by
the arm and
pulled me up. Even back then I didn’t resist when people grabbed me. I
followed
her down to the lobby. I’d been on the third floor, so it took a while
to get
there. She didn’t know I’d be back and she’d be embarrassed, but I
figured it
would be a good lesson for her. We stopped at the front desk.
“I’m going to write
a note to
your parents and tell them you’re not to come here anymore. If I see
you here
again, I’ll call the campus police and they’ll arrest you for
trespassing. Do
you know what trespassing is?”
Obviously, she had
little
experience with geniuses. I tended to be somewhat of a smartass back
then and I
said, “Yes, trespass came into usage sometime in the fourteen century.
It’s
Middle-English, from the Anglo-French word trespasser.” I tried to get
the
accent, but I hadn’t started on French, yet.
She looked at me
like I was
weird, or something. That stuff was right out of the dictionary. You
can look
it up. I remembered shit like that. That’s why I could read and write
eight
foreign languages back then, and speak three, Norwegian, Hindi, which
is a fun
language, and Latin, which is kind of hard because there aren’t a lot
of people
who speak it anymore, except for some people in Switzerland who speak
Vulgar
Latin, which isn’t the same as I learned, but close.
“Don’t get smart
with me
little boy.”
“Geoff, what are
you doing
here?” a familiar voice said behind me. I turned and it was Professor
Gunther
from the Department of Foreign Languages. He was my best bud at the
University.
He was helping me with learning how to speak German, like a Swiss so I
could go
to Switzerland and learn how to speak Vulgar Latin, like a
Swiss.
“Professor Gunther,
do you
know this little boy?”
“Yes, this is Geoff
Johnson.
Oh, that’s right, you’re new. Geoff kind of has the run of the campus,
but he
never causes any problems. Do you?”
“No sir.” I didn’t
either. I
was a good little boy. God, I was pathetic as a little kid. Smart as
hell, but
so dumb at normal kid things.
“Well, he certainly
doesn’t
have the run of this library.”
“Uh, Miss, uh, I’m
sorry, I’m
horrible with names,” Professor Gunther said. He was going in for the
kill, but
I decided to end this silly game.
“Professor Gunther,
it’s all
right, I have to stop off at the Provost’s Office on my way home,
anyway. I’ll
have someone call. Okay?”
As I turned to
leave I heard
Professor Gunther say to the new librarian, “Provost Williams is the
boy’s
godfather. Kind of dotes on the boy. But, then, Geoff is about as close
to a
genius as we’ve got around here. So damned smart we’ll never get him to
attend.
He’s destined for brighter shores than ours. Oh, and, you’ll probably
get a
call from someone about Geoff.”
She was nice to me
the next
time she caught me reading Chinese up on the third floor. Then I found
out she
was from Ireland and knew Irish Gaelic. That was the fourth
language I
learned how to speak and my ninth language overall. She married a shoe
salesman
from Eugene and moved to Oregon a year later. They have a baby boy. We
correspond in
Irish.
Sam and Johnny came
home a
few minutes before eight. Both of them were loud and boisterous.
Obviously,
they’d had a good time at Mark’s house. It certainly made me feel good
they
were so happy. Almost immediately, Peter grabbed Johnny, went into his
bedroom
and shut the door.
“What’s that all
about?” Sam
asked. He was in such a good mood, he looked happy.
“Peter didn’t have
a good
afternoon,” I said. “How was Johnny today?”
“He behaved
himself. Mrs.
Patterson had him doing the dishes as soon as she figured out he was a
neatness
freak. All I had to do was make sure he went to the toilet when he had
to.”
“I can’t understand
how he
can be so focused on cleaning everything except himself.”
“He’s got a lot of
problems.
You should talk to him about them sometime. What did you and Peter do
today?”
“In the morning we
mostly
fooled around. Doctor Randall took us to the zoo, but Sally was being
an ass
because all she wanted to talk about was how Peter’s winkie is cuter
than mine
and it rained. Then we came home and after a little bit Peter went to
his room
and I came up here. It wasn’t a bad day, but it was a long way from
being
good.”
“What do you mean
you fooled
around?” He was suddenly seething. Happy to mad in the blink of an eye.
“I told
that little prick what I’d do if you two got together. Why does he push
me like
this?”
“Funny, he said
you’d be
mad,” I said. “Come here big boy, I’ve missed you.”
But, he didn’t. Sam
stood by
my door trembling. I got up and limped over to him. He was breathing
real hard
when I put my one good arm around him and leaned against his back. He
was mad,
very mad, and I figured now was a good time to get him to talk about
why he was
here.
“Are you going to
kill him?”
I asked. “He said you’d kill him if I fucked him. He fucked me, first.
He was
crying when he did it. He was rough, slamming into me like he was mad.
You
know, I felt his tears on me when he came. God it hurt at the end. Are
you
listening to me?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I
guess,
maybe not.”
“Come on over to
the bed, we
need to talk.”
Doctor Randall said
he had
control issues. Peter said Sam hit him. I wanted to find out what was
going on
with a boy who might become my boyfriend, now that Tim was gone. I
didn’t
believe Sam might hit me. I expected him to have that much sense.
I practically had
to pull Sam
to get him to come over to the bed. When we sat down he started
unbuttoning my
shirt. Under normal circumstances, I probably would’ve let him
continue, but
this was a time to say no and I did it by pushing his hand away. It was
awkward
trying that with only one hand, but I think he got the message because
he
stopped and stared at my door.
“You’re not going
in there to
hit him,” I said pulling his face around to me. He looked at me as if I
was his
victim. I’d seen that face before. When someone is going to hurt you,
really
hurt you like stab you, beat you up, or rape you, they have a look that
betrays
them. Most people try to get away if they know that look. “You’re going
to tell
me why you’re here. I know it’s not because you tried to kill yourself.
You
might have scars on your wrists, but that isn’t why you’re in this
house.”
“A couple years
ago, Mommy
and Daddy had to go to some party or something at North Park College,”
Sam said. He turned away from me, taking
his anger
with him. “Daddy is on the Board. They left me with Laura, my little
sister.
She’s a mistake, too. She was four. She is spoiled. She’s worse than
Sally. I
told Mommy that I didn’t want to babysit Laura because she never minded
me, but
Mommy said it was high time I started taking some responsibility for
her little
dear. That’s what Mommy and Daddy call Laura, their little dear.
“Anyway, it was
Laura’s
bedtime and I told her to get ready for her bath. She ignored me. I
grabbed
her, but she wrenched out of my grip and ran from me. She went into the
living
room and I heard something like glass breaking. She’d knocked over
Mommy’s
favorite vase. All the yellow roses were in the floor. Laura said she
was going
to tell Mommy I did it. I slapped her. I don’t know why, but I did. I
was mad
at her. She wouldn’t do anything I told her. I told Mommy that Laura
didn’t
mind me.
“Laura went to the
bookshelf
and picked up Mommy’s porcelain horse. She threw it at me. It hit the
coffee
table and shattered into a thousand pieces. I went over and slugged
Laura in
the face. She fell down and I was on top of her hitting her in the
face. I
didn’t stop hitting her. I was still kneeling over her when Mommy and
Daddy
came home. Daddy picked me up and threw me against the bookshelf. He’s
kind of
big and strong. I woke up in a cell at County. I was charged with
attempted
murder. They brought the psychiatrists in and, well, I’m here, now.
“Mommy and Daddy
wanted them
to send me to prison for hurting their little dear. I can’t go home,
ever. They
said they aren’t my parents, anymore. They pay to keep me away. A
friend of
theirs is my guardian. He’s a lawyer or something. Laura is going to be
okay. I
broke nearly every bone in her face, but she’ll live. She might not be
as
pretty, but she’ll live. She’ll always be blind in one eye, but she’ll
live. I
didn’t kill her. Geoff, I didn’t kill my sister.
“I get mad
sometimes and I
can’t remember what happens. It’s like my memory turns off. Doctor Tim
says I’m
not a danger to others if I take my medicine, but I have to learn to
not get
mad. I have to learn not to threaten people. I have to learn not to hit
people.”
He leaned against
me, wrapped
his arms around me, and started to cry. “Don’t hate me, Geoff.
Sometimes I
forget.”
“I want you to
apologize to
Peter.”
“No, I can’t do
that.”
“Come on, time to
take a
little responsibility for Sam Black,” I said, leaning on him to get up.
He
stood up and then pulled me up. He was hugging me, hard. He was
practically
squeezing me.
“They’re probably
doing
something in there,” he said, walking to my door.
“Come on, we’ll go
through
the bathroom,” I said. Sure enough, the door wasn’t locked. I knocked
on
Johnny’s door and opened it not waiting for an answer. “Are you two
decent?”
They were lying on
Johnny’s
bed naked with Peter going at Johnny’s dick and Johnny working over
Peter’s
ass. They kept going at it. Obviously, neither of them heard me. Quite
frankly,
I was a little reluctant to interrupt because they were putting on a
great
performance.
“I’m hard, let’s
sneak back
out,” Sam whispered in my ear.
“Ahem! Hey you two,
we need
to talk,” I said. I think Peter bit Johnny’s dick from what I saw.
“Hey, you’re not
supposed to
come in here,” Johnny said, grabbing his hard cock. It was long like
Tim’s, but
thicker. A good fucking cock. A picture snapped into my mind of that
thing
slipping into my ass.
“Your door wasn’t
locked,” I
said. “And, that one isn’t either. Peter you know what Doctor Randall
said.”
“Sally’s in bed,”
Johnny
said.
“She doesn’t stay
there.
Trust me, I know.”
“She’d walk in on
us?” Johnny
asked.
“To play Chutes and
Ladders
with Peter? Hell yes! Sam? You’re on.”
Sam walked over to
the bed. I
knew he was about to laugh. I knew it, but he did the right thing,
anyway.
“Peter, I’m sorry
for being
such an ass to you. I’m sorry for all the times I hit you and
threatened you.
Please accept my apology. Oh, and if we ever do it again, you can do
me, first.
Okay?”
“Sure, Sam,
whatever you
say,” Peter said. “Now, will you two leave, Johnny was about to come.”
“No, wait a
minute,” Johnny
said. “Geoff? When you get your casts off, will you sleep with me?”
“You mean you want
Sam and
Peter to be together?” I asked. That wasn’t the reason, I knew that.
“No, I want to be
with you.
Peter told me what you two did today and I was just wondering if you’d,
well,
you know.”
“Sure, I guess
it’ll be
okay.”
I wasn’t sure. This
was
another one of those times when saying no was more appropriate than
saying yes.
Sure, Johnny had a cock I wanted up my ass, but I wasn’t certain I
wanted to do
anything else with him. What if he wanted me to rim him like Peter
wanted. That
was still way down on my list of things to do to your partner to get
him
excited. There was just something about putting my mouth on that part
of
another boy’s body, especially a boy who sometimes forgot to wipe his
ass.
“Come on, Geoff,
it’s a
school night and my cock is missing you,” Sam said at the bathroom door.
“You two get some
sleep, new
schools for both of you tomorrow,” I said. “Okay Sam, let’s go put that
cock of
yours to work. I know just where it’s needed.”