This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention. Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story. You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization.
This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage males. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you find this type of material offensive or if you are under the legal age to read said material; please proceed no further.
Comments are always welcome at: hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com
A Light in Dark Places Chapter 13
Tyler left the next morning. Wendy and I stood out on the porch with him, while we waited for Mrs. Potter to show up with the clinic's van. Tyler was nervous, he hadn't been home in four months, but he was also excited. He missed his parents and his sister and couldn't wait to hug them. I stood there and quietly held his hand until the van arrived. Tyler hugged me, then kissed me gently on the lips and stroked my cheek.
"Remember, you'll be coming home soon and I'll be there, waiting for you," said Tyler.
"Yeah, I know," I sniffled.
"Don't cry," Tyler smiled, "this is a happy day, I'm going home."
"I know, I'm going to miss you, but these are good tears, I'm not sad," I explained.
"Good," said Tyler, giving me one final squeeze.
"And I didn't forget you," said Tyler, turning to Wendy and hugging her, "take care of Peter, ok?"
"Sure," said Wendy, "but you make sure and take care of yourself."
"I'm gonna be fine," said Tyler, "and so are you guys, I'm going to be waiting to hang out with the two of you so get a move on."
Mrs. Potter honked her horn, Tyler flashed us one of his brilliant smiles and then he climbed into the passenger seat. He rolled down the window and stuck his head out, waving goodbye as the van pulled away.
"Bye THUMPER," Wendy and I shouted.
Even though he was getting further away, I could still see he was blushing. Wendy put her arm around my shoulder and I rested my head against her, we watched the van until it disappeared on the horizon.
"I miss him already," I said.
"I know, but he's right, you'll see him soon," said Wendy.
"We made love last night," I stated.
"You and THUMPER?" asked Wendy.
"No, me and my left hand," I replied sarcastically, "yes, me and THUMPER."
"Wow, you must be making more progress than I thought," said Wendy.
"I don't know if progress is the right word, I've always felt special feelings for Tyler," I admitted.
"Yeah, but if you were able to have sex with him, then you must not be so hung up on Connor anymore," said Wendy.
"Great," I said, sarcastically, "in order to be happy, all I have to do is turn my back on the boy I loved with all my heart."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," said Wendy.
"I know you didn't, I'm just pouting," I admitted, "you're not entirely wrong, last night, you know, afterward, when I was alone in my room, I actually slept; no dreams at all."
"That's good Peter, Tyler's right, you're getting better, you'll be going home in no time," said Wendy.
"What about you?" I asked.
"I still have good days and bad days, one step at a time, right?" said Wendy.
"Yeah, I just wish we were all going home together," I stated.
"That would be great, but our problems are all to different for that," said Wendy, "I'm sure you'll be going home next and it may take me a little longer, but I'll get there."
"You've never said that before," I reminded her, she'd never been optimistic about the future.
"Well, Cody wouldn't have it any other way, would he?" she asked.
"No, I'm sure he wouldn't," I agreed.
We went to class after that and though I missed Tyler, I wasn't sad. I myself was feeling optimistic about the future and I knew I'd see him soon. At lights out that night, I sat in bed and stared at Connor's picture for a long time. I had so many conflicting emotions about him but the one thing I wasn't feeling was guilt. Whatever the source of my dreams, anguish, heartache, or guilt, I hadn't had one last night. Maybe Connor's ghost was at peace, maybe he wanted me with Tyler, I didn't know and I'd only find out in my sleep.
I closed my eyes and drifted off, the next time I opened them, I was on the now familiar beach, holding Connor's lifeless body. His black eyes snapped open and he called my name in his disembodied voice.
"Come with me Peter," said the apparition.
I took his hand and we waded out into the water. The water was up to my knees when I felt a hand on my shoulder, then Connor's clear voice as he called my name. The apparition tightened his grip on my hand but I turned around and saw him there in front of me, the real Connor. He was wearing his pajamas, blue plaid bottoms and a grey t-shirt with "Trust Me, I'm a Doctor," printed on the front. He looked healthy and vibrant, the sun making his blond hair glow and his green eyes sparkle.
"Connor? Is that you?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's me, don't go with that asshole," said Connor, gesturing at his black eyed doppelganger.
I turned to the apparition and stared at it.
"Come with me Peter," the apparition insisted, tugging on my arm.
"Don't go Peter," said Connor, serenely.
"Come with me Peter," the apparition demanded.
"No, NO!"I shouted, and yanked my arm away.
The apparition did its usual macabre dance of death, twisting and thrashing in the water as it rapidly decayed, and then it vanished. I stood there, in the surf, feeling the wind blowing on my face, when I turned around, Connor was still standing there. He smiled at me and I recognized that special, perfect smile, it really was him. I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his chest.
"Oh Connor, I've missed you so much," I sniffled.
"I know you have and I've missed you," said Connor, soothing me by rubbing up and down my back.
"Why haven't you come for me before?" I asked.
"It's not that I didn't want to, it's that, well, I couldn't," said Connor.
"But why?" I asked.
"It takes time getting used to being dead, I wanted to come, and I've been watching you," said Connor.
"You have?" I asked.
"Yes, and I have to say Peter, I'm very disappointed in you," said Connor.
"Disappointed, what did I do?" I asked.
"I saw you jump in that pool with rocks in your pockets and I watched you sit there with your dad's gun," said Connor.
"I missed you so much, it hurt, I wanted to be with you," I explained.
"I know, and I want you to be with me, but not like that," said Connor, "life is precious, it's a gift, you can't just throw it away because you're sad."
"Yeah but..." I started.
"No, no buts, I lost my life and I don't want to see you do the same, you have so much to look forward to in life," said Connor.
"I'm not going to, you know, hurt myself, I'm passed that," I replied.
"I know, like I said, I've been watching you, you and Tyler," said Connor.
"Oh, you saw that?" I asked.
"Yeah, what's with the pink underwear?" Connor grinned.
"Uh, I never got an answer to that, I..." I started.
"Yeah, you were busy being ridden like Seabiscuit," Connor laughed.
I blushed; it seemed so weird to be having this conversation.
"Don't be embarrassed, he's cute, I'd hit that," Connor laughed, "you clearly have a type though."
"You think so?" I asked.
"Oh yeah, you love the blonds," Connor smiled.
"So you're not mad?" I asked, timidly.
"No, I'm dead Peter, I wouldn't begrudge you a life," said Connor, "in fact, I like Tyler."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I've watched him and your friend Wendy, I'm glad you have them, they're not like our friends at school, they're..." said Connor.
"They're not pretentious pricks," I interrupted.
"I was going to say assholes, but pricks works," laughed Connor.
"So you're really ok with me and Tyler, you're not mad?"
"No, I'm not mad but more importantly, are you mad at me?" asked Connor.
"How could I be mad at you, you, you died," I spluttered.
"Yeah, and you know what? It was my fault. I should never have gone swimming in that water alone, it was too cold and too deep, my body cramped up and I lost my life because of it, I lost you," said Connor.
"Maybe that's true, maybe I have been angry, but if I was, it was only because I'd lost you," I admitted.
"You'll never really lose me, I'll always be there for you," said Connor.
"I know, you'll always be watching over me, right?"
"No, no way," said Connor, unexpectedly, "I'm dead Peter, I can go anywhere I want now, see anything, you think I'm going to hang around watching you take math tests and getting it on with THUMPER?"
"You didn't seem to mind watching last night," I retorted.
"True, that was pretty hot," Connor laughed, "what I mean Peter, is that I want you to think of me as a light in dark places, whenever you get in trouble, scared or just feel like you can't go on, think of me and I'll guide you down the right path."
"Thanks Connor, that gives me a lot of comfort," I replied, "why weren't you this articulate when you were alive?"
"Still a smartass, I guess some things never change," Connor laughed.
"Peter, you're going to be ok, you'll be going home soon and getting on with your life, but, well, I need you to do me a favor," said Connor.
"Name it, anything, I'd do anything for you."
Connor explained the request he wanted me to undertake. It wasn't a big request, in fact, it was one I'd sort of already agreed to, although that was months ago now.
"Do you have to go now?" I asked, once he'd finished speaking.
"I'm not in a rush," said Connor.
"Would you hold me one last time?" I asked.
Connor put his arms around me and we lie there on the beach, his hand gently rubbing my back.
"I'll always love you," I whispered.
"I know, now just close your eyes," said Connor.
I closed my eyes and feel asleep to the sound of the surf. When I woke, I was cuddling with my pillow. As soon as I wiped the sleep from my eyes, I raced downstairs. Connor had asked me to do one simple thing and I wasn't going to waste any time. I banged on Dr. Collins office door, fortunately she doesn't sleep much and she was already at her desk. It took a little explaining but in the end, she let me use her phone. I dialed the new number, it rang once and then a receptionist answered.
"Office of the Vice President, can I help you?" said the receptionist.
"This is Peter Whitmore, can I speak to my dad please?" I asked.
"What is your authentication code," she asked.
"Uh, this is FOX calling for TIMBERWOLF," I replied, feeling silly for having to use code words to get my father on the phone.
"One moment please," said the receptionist, placing me on hold.
"Hey tiger," said dad, "what's up?"
"Dad, we've got FOX's and TIMBERWOLVES, do we really need to add another animal, can't you just call me Peter?" I asked.
"Right, sorry son, what's up?" asked dad.
I quickly explained what I needed him to do for me, conveniently leaving out the part about talking to Connor in a dream. I didn't want him to think I'd lost my mind.
"Are you sure you're ready for this Peter?" asked dad.
"I'm sure, it's something I need to do, I think it's the key to my recovery," I explained.
"Ok, if that's the case, I'll have Uncle Jack take care of it right away," said dad.
"Thank you Mr. Vice President, you're the best," I gushed.
"I love you Peter, come home soon," said dad.
"I will dad, I'm so close, I just have to do this one last thing," I replied.
A few short days later, I found myself pacing back and forth on the clinic's front porch. Wendy sat in a lounge chair and Agent Martinez watched from her perch a few steps away. Connor had asked me to meet his parents, he didn't get the chance to say goodbye to them and I was going to do it for him. I spoke to Connor's mom the night before I came to the clinic, and I felt that doing this for him, combined with the things he'd said during my dream, might help me to put my nightmares and my guilt behind me, for good.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Wendy, "you seem nervous."
"I've never met them before, of course I'm nervous, but this is something I have to do," I explained.
After waking from my dream the other morning, I called my dad and told him what I wanted to arrange. It didn't make sense for me to go to the McCarthy's but they could come to me. Uncle Jack, my dad's chief of staff, arranged the flight and Agent Stark was picking them up at the airport in Pittsfield, they should be here any minute. I continued pacing and then I saw Agent Martinez press her earpiece.
"They're coming through the gate," she informed me.
A minute later, the black SUV pulled up in front of the clinic and a couple in their 50's stepped out. They looked like Connor, both of them. I could pick out his features on each of their faces.
"You must be Peter," Mr. McCarthy smiled gently, then shook my hand.
"Yes sir, I'm pleased to meet you, I'm only sorry it had to be like this," I stated.
"Peter, would it be alright if I hugged you?" asked Mrs. McCarthy.
I could see that she wanted to but the Secret Service can be a little off-putting if you aren't used to them. The poor woman probably thought they'd drop her with a sniper rifle if she made a move on me.
"That would be fine, I'm sorry I didn't think of it first," I smiled and hugged her.
She lingered over the hug, I was sure I reminded her of her son. It probably felt good to have a boy in her arms, after her tragic loss, particularly one who had been so close to Connor. When we broke our embrace, I introduced the McCarthy's to Wendy and Agent Martinez, then led them into the visitor's room.
"Good luck preppy, I'll wait out here for you," said Wendy.
When we were alone, we took our seats and just sort of stared at each other for a moment, no one was really sure how to begin. Finally Mrs. McCarthy broke the ice.
"We saw you on television with your parents," said Mrs. McCarthy, "we were surprised when you called, we didn't expect to hear from you."
"I told you I'd visit, and I owed it to Connor," I explained.
"He cared about you very much," said Mr. McCarthy, "that was very obvious."
"Really?" I asked.
"We want you to have this," said Mrs. McCarthy, producing a book from her purse, Connor P. McCarthy embossed on the cover, "This was his journal."
"I can't accept that, really, you should have it," I stated.
"No, no, I'm sure he'd want you to have it, most of the entries are about you," she explained.
I took the book in my hands and ran my fingers over his name, it felt like holding a part of him.
"Peter, if it isn't too difficult for you, can you tell us what happened on that beach, you were the last person to see him alive and we'd really like to know about his last day," said Mr. McCarthy.
"Well sir, it was my birthday," I began, "Connor wanted to do something special, he planned the whole thing, he even stole my bike and hid it in the bushes the night before so that we'd be able to get to the bus station."
"He stole your bike?" asked Mrs. McCarthy.
"Appropriated is probably a better word, you know how he was, he got a plan in his mind and nothing like a little padlock was going to stop him," I smiled, enjoying the memory.
"He was always like that, so strong willed," said Mr. McCarthy.
"We spent the day on the beach, swimming and tossing the football around, then we went into town for dinner. Connor had a great time, I wish you could have seen him splashing around he was so cute, he was such a little boy at times," I smiled.
The McCarthy's both smiled and held each other's hand, probably sharing a memory of what their son had been like, when he was a little boy. I don't know how they had come to terms with his death, he was their only child, such a special person, so vibrant and full of life. I'll always regard Connor's death as an epic tragedy, he had so much promise.
"We missed the bus back to school so we built a fire and camped out in the dunes," I continued, "he wanted to go for another swim that night but it was freezing cold and we only had the one blanket, so we huddled together for warmth. When I woke up in the morning, he wasn't there. I found him on the beach, but it was too late, he was gone."
"Thank you for sharing that, I know it must have been hard for you," said Mr. McCarthy.
"He was your son, you have a right to know anything I can tell you," I stated.
"How long had you two been, you know..." Mrs. McCarthy began, uncomfortably.
"Gay?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied.
"We'd been friends since we started at the academy but we only became a couple last October," I explained, "I loved your son very much, our relationship wasn't some kind of sexual experiment, we cared for each other, deeply."
"I'm glad to know that he experienced love in his life," said Mrs. McCarthy.
"Connor was a wonderful person, everyone loved him but most of them never got to see how caring or sensitive he could be, he had so many exceptional qualities," I stated.
The McCarthy's both smiled, they knew their son, they knew all about the special qualities I was talking about.
"Listen, this is going to sound strange, crazy even, but I asked you here because Connor wanted us to meet," I stated.
"How's that?" asked Mr. McCarthy.
"Look, I've been having nightmares, ever since he died, but the other night, Connor came to me in a dream," I blushed, it did sound a little nuts when I said it out loud.
"And he asked you to meet with us?" asked Mrs. McCarthy.
"He asked me to tell you how much he loved you and to tell you how sorry he was that you wouldn't get to watch him grow up," I said, choking up a little, "he wanted you to know that he was ok, and that he would always be with you."
"He said that did he?" asked Mr. McCarthy.
"Well actually, he said that he would be busy, doing and seeing all the things he couldn't do in life, but that all we had to do is think of him and he'd be there when we needed him," I smiled.
"That sounds more like my boy," Mr. McCarthy smiled back.
"Peter, we appreciate you inviting us here and for sharing that with us, we know you've been through a lot but we had one last request, if it isn't asking too much," said Mrs. McCarthy.
"Of course, anything, you're Connor's family, I'd do anything for him and I'd do anything for you," I stated, and I meant it, call it a debt of honor, call it love, I felt we were connected for life.
"Connor was our only son, we're too old to have any more children, we'd like to watch you grow up, see the man you become, just to see what our boy might have been like," said Mrs. McCarthy.
"I'd be honored to have you in my life, after all, we're family now, we've all shared the same sense of loss and grief for someone we loved, I think that bonds us," I agreed.
Both of the McCarthy's hugged me and I had an idea.
"Listen, if it's not asking too much, would you like to come to church with me?" I asked.
"Sure, if you'd like," Mrs. McCarthy answered for both of them.
It was Sunday, I'd skipped the morning service in order to meet the McCarthy's but there was an afternoon service in an hour. I don't know what moved me to ask them to accompany me, but it felt right. I stepped into the lobby and found Wendy and Agent Martinez waiting for me, I explained my plan and Agent Martinez sent a team ahead. This was an unscheduled trip but she always took precautions, anytime I traveled. Wendy disappeared for a moment and came back downstairs as we were preparing to depart.
"What are you all dressed up for?" I asked, it was the first time I'd ever seen her in anything but jeans and a t-shirt, and she had her hair pulled back.
"What's it look like, I'm coming with you," said Wendy.
"Great," I smiled.
That wasn't part of the plan, but it felt right too. Church had been a great comfort to Tyler and I, Wendy saw that and I think she was looking for that sense of peace too. Agent Martinez loaded me into the first car with Wendy, and put the McCarthy's in the chase car. We joined our police escort at the gate and arrived at the church in no time. Pastor Goodwin greeted us as we walked in.
"Good afternoon Peter, we missed you this morning," said Pastor Goodwin.
"I had some things I needed to take care of," I smiled.
"And who do you have with you today?" she asked.
"This is my friend, Wendy, and these are Connor's parents, Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy," I stated.
Pastor Goodwin hugged everyone, I'd attended this church regularly with Tyler and told her plenty about Connor in the intervening weeks. After that, we took our seats and listened to the sermon. The pastor spoke about redemption and forgiveness, I listened intently, I felt that I had redeemed myself in Connor's eyes and knew that he didn't harbor any ill will against me. Connor loved me and I loved him, that was the way of the world, but he'd shown me that it was ok to love others. When the minister finished, there was a final hymn.
What a fellowship, what a joy divine,
Leaning on the everlasting arms;
What a blessedness, what a peace is mine,
Leaning on the everlasting arms.
Leaning, leaning, safe and secure from all alarms;
Leaning, leaning, leaning on the everlasting arms.
Oh, how sweet to walk in this pilgrim way,
Leaning on the everlasting arms;
Oh, how bright the path grows from day to day,
Leaning on the everlasting arms.
What have I to dread, what have I to fear,
Leaning on the everlasting arms
I have blessed peace with my Lord so near,
Leaning on the everlasting arms.
I've heard that song a million times but I'd never felt it in my heart more than I did that day. I was free, free from the burden of my guilt, free to love Tyler and accept his love in turn and free to hold Connor in my heart. I'm a person of faith, I believe in God, but there, in that small church, for the first time in my life, I felt his presence.