Author's note: This is the first story that has been edited professionally and I think you will find the flow to be more refined. As always comments are welcome and appreciated. Dabeagle ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Big Picture
It was only eight when I got home and by eight thirty I had worn myself out with crying and the whirlwind of emotions from that evening so it was no surprise that I fell into a deep sleep.
"Six hundred feet, sir."
"Very well. Maneuvering, Conn. Status?"
"Conn, Maneuvering. Reactor is nearing critical, systems operating at twenty percent."
"Six hundred seventy feet."
"Emergency Report! Emergency Report! Flooding in the engine room! Flooding in engine room lower level."
"Chief of the Watch sound the general alarm."
"Sound general alarm, Aye Captain."
I looked around as uniformed personnel moved with urgency through the control room. Ship speed registered at all ahead one third while in actuality the ship was dead in the water.
"Seven hundred forty feet, Captain."
"Maneuvering, Conn. I need those engines, Mr. Nesteruk." I heard myself say.
"Conn, Maneuvering. Reactor is off line; Flooding is critical! Recommend emergency surface."
"Eight Hundred twenty feet, Captain."
What should I do? " Chief of the watch, sound the surfacing alarm, initiate emergency surface on my mark"
" Aye, Captain."
The klaxon sounded throughout the ship as reports of damage continued to filter in. The engine room was a complete loss, eighteen people dead or may as well be, trapped behind the watertight door.
"Nine hundred eighty feet, Captain."
The hull began to make popping, tapping sounds as it buckled under the stress of the ocean pressing in at all points.
"Initiate emergency surface! All hands brace for surface maneuvers!"
The Chief of the Watch threw the levers to start the air pressure in to the ballast tanks.
"Captain, the air pressure has failed!"
"One thousand two hundred feet, Captain! Our rate of descent has increased!"
What can I do? I have no control over this! The ship is going down and I can't stop it! All the bulkheads are bowing in, bowing to the superior might of the sea. The popping and tapping increased as the ship neared crush depth, and then with a blinding rush of cool water...
I sat bolt upright as a chill breeze blew across my face, the sweat on my brow making the sensation like ice on my skin. I was heaving breath in and out of my lungs, seemingly not able to absorb enough in to my drained system. My heart played a funky trip hammer beat that kept time with the pounding rush in my temples.
The tapping sounded again, I turned quickly towards the window and nearly screamed at a face outlined in stark relief by the light of the room extending far enough to highlight the image. I moved to the window, somewhat relived that Kyle decided to come over, not noticing until it was too late that Cris was in tow. Music was floating down the hall from my father's room.
I cranked the window open farther to admit them into my room and then fell back on the bed, exhausted.
I heard them struggle up and through the window and then take seats on either side of me. I wasn't sure I could deal with this right now, and I knew I didn't want to. So why had I let them in?
"Hey, buddy. What's wrong?" Cris asked. I looked at Kyle and he gave me a small shake of his head. Good, at least Cris didn't know.
"Just felt sick, man. Stomach, head. I always get nervous before I fly." I lied.
"Oh, well, shit, is that all? You sure caused a commotion for a little attack of nerves!" Cris replied.
"What do you mean?" I asked, half caring half not.
"Casey freaked, dude. He has this delusion that you were trying to get away from him. I told him he was stupid, but he never listens when he's worked up."
My heart skipped. Well, someone had a clue but that would be all he would get.
"I had no idea you were afraid of flying, but more than that- where the hell are you going?" Kyle asked pointedly.
Doh! I had completely forgotten to tell Kyle since I was so wrapped up in myself. I filled him in halfheartedly about events back east and that I was flying out for three days first thing in the morning.
"Some friend, you don't even have the courtesy to tell me when shit goes down in your life and then you were just gonna disappear for three days without so much as a 'c-ya?" Kyle asked visibly upset.
"Kyle, I'm sorry. I really didn't have a chance to tell you, and..."
"Bullshit. If you weren't so fucking busy making bedroom eyes at Casey you might have thought of it!" He yelled and then scrambled out of the open window and into the darkening night.
"Um, what just happened?" Cris asked.
I tried to fade right through the bed and out of town. How could he have done that to me? He just dumped my feelings out onto the carpet like pick-up stix, and I was left with the mess. My anger built up and my headache became ten times worse. I closed my eyes.
"Dude, are you like...a queer?"
I felt Cris stand and move away. I could see him in my minds eye sidling to the window in order to escape before my queerness got on him and became infectious. What was the point? The ballgame was over now, the closer was in and the batter had two strikes and not a chance of even seeing the third pitch.
"I .. I .. Want to be alone, please." I managed.
"No, fuckin' answer me! Is that what you are?"
Is that what I am? Am I so horrible? I felt the impending doom of my life here slowly sliding back into my existence back east, a laughingstock, and a loser. Alone.
I snapped.
"Yeah, Cris. I am. And I like Casey." And then I had a vengeful thought, "And you know what? Kyle knows."
Cris seemed to be taken aback by my statement, confused and then mumbled that he would see me when I got back.
"Yeah right. If you do it'll probably be with Carlisle at your side. Go on, get the fuck out. You're not welcome here."
Cris climbed out the window and I felt emptiness slide in and take his place, and it's twin, loneliness, came in for a nightcap. They were almost like old friends to me now.
I stood and closed the window, then went to find music to drift off to and then fell back into bed, switching out the light first. I cried again that night for hope unfounded and loves lost. Does everyone feel this deeply? Does that cow Stacey Reamer cry herself to sleep over Kyle? I let Elton's music wash over me and hold me in its grasp, Taupin's words held close in my heart.
Too low for Zero/I'm on a losing streak I got myself in a bad patch lately/ I can't seem to get much sleep Too low for Zero/ I wind up counting sheep Nothing makes much sense/ It's all just Greek to me
It wasn't any use; I couldn't sleep. I got up and switched on the bedside lamp and then dug my bag out of the hall closet. As I packed for my trip I tried to concentrate on Chris, after all he would need me. Oh, no! How would he react when he got here? Once could be people being vicious, twice and he would know what I was. What was I going to do? I couldn't bear to lose Chris too. Damn it! This just wasn't fair! Why did Kyle have to say that? And now Casey will know too, undoubtedly. I was so fucked.
I sat heavily on the edge of my bed and cried mightily for God, someone, anyone to end this misery. At last, exhaustion got the better of me and I slept fitfully.
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Aren't I a bit young to have to make these decisions? 15 is still considered a kid, right? Kyle was one thing; he couldn't help it, but this? Wasn't this a choice? I mean, don't you make a conscious decision whether or not you like one sex or the other? God, that sounds so stupid. I never sat down and said 'I like girls', so why should anyone else? Who in their right mind would choose that path for themselves with all the homophobic sentiment out there? Someone got killed, killed! Last year cause they were gay. Beaten and left hanging from a fence to die of exposure. What does that say? Maybe I was overreacting here. Kyle couldn't help his seizures, and Justin can't help his feelings. So why should I have a problem with it? I shouldn't. That isn't any of my business unless he chooses to make it my business.
"I'll tell you what. Being Cris Teague isn't easy these days. Maybe I should tell Justin tomorrow before he leaves, he might feel better. That's what a friend would do, right? He must feel pretty bad right now, you know? And I don't even have a right to get upset for not knowing cause it wasn't any of my business. Anyway, it's not like I've known him forever and he has been holding out on me for years or something." He said to himself.
My sneakers scuffed the sidewalk as I went home from Justin's. I was so shocked it wasn't even funny. Justin seemed so cool. Wait a second, he still was. What had really changed? Nothing, that's what. He just cared a lot for one of his friends, no big deal. Man I can do this! After all, I get a good feeling from him. How many really good friends do you get in one lifetime?
I looked up and realized I was back at Kyle's place. Come to think of it he must feel pretty bad too. I wonder why Justin told Kyle anyway?
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Kyle sat in his room dejected and miserable. "Way to go Kyle, you asshole."
I thought. When I saw Casey show up with that chick I'd gotten nervous; after all Casey wasn't suppose to be playing for that team, right? All I wanted was for Justin to have a shot at being happy; and then when I saw that, I tried to protect him. I took him to see Uncle Jake and I tried to keep him in the kitchen so he wouldn't see and get hurt. And then what happens? He freaks and then the beans get spilled. No that isn't quite right. I spilled the beans and Justin has to pay for it. What have I done?
As I sat there shaking my head I heard someone at the door. Thank god everyone had taken the clue and left right after that little display downstairs. I heard my father greet someone, and then creaking on the stairs as someone came up. I lay back on my bed as Cris walked into the room.
"Hey."
"Hey, what're you doing back here?"
"Just wanted to talk I guess. Um, you want to talk?"
"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"
"About what we should do about.. Well, you know. Justin."
"I don't know man. I just don't know."
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I woke with the sun still several hours from rising and the events of last night playing in my mind like some horror show. I got up and showered and went down the hall for breakfast, which was in full swing. I got a glass of milk and sat distractedly at the table. What was I going to do?
"Penny for your thoughts?" Dad asked.
I thought for a moment. Could I do that? Not everyone reacted too well as Cris proved. Then, again, I had to tell someone- especially with what was likely to happen with Chris when I was forced to tell him since I couldn't bring him here unprepared, could I? So it might save some trouble later if I told now.
"I'm not sure I want to talk about it, dad."
On the other hand what if he wasn't receptive? Mothers are the ones with the big bond to their kids, right? Maybe this would be too much for dad right now.
"Does it have anything to do with that boy that was out there singing the other night? Or the way those kids climbed out your window last night?"
How do parents do that? I've heard about sonar, radar, even fucking gaydar. What the fuck do parents have?
"Um, yeah a bit to do with that." I mumbled, feeling my cheeks redden.
"Well since I know that much, why don't you give me the details? It might make you feel better just to get it out of you."
I thought that over for a second, and then decided to spill it. He probably guessed it anyway. Or at least suspects it with what he knows already. After all, how many straight guys croon to other guys outside their window?
"Well, ah. I don't know how to say this dad." I paused. He waited patiently, taking the chair next to me.
"Dad I....I think that I....Um....Well I sort of like...I mean I am interested in, um...."
"Justin, do you trust me? We have always been close, but do you really trust me?"
"Yeah, dad. Completely."
"Then just tell me, Son. Whatever it is we can deal with it."
Fresh tears welled in my eyes. "Dad I think that maybe I'm....Well, gay."
My vision blurred and I felt the hot tracks of my tears running down my face like white-hot blades cutting into my cheeks as if they were butter. I felt my dad's arms encircle me, and he whispered in my ear that that was OK and everything would be all right. For some strange reason I cried even harder even though I felt as though a huge weight was lifted from my heart.
"Is this boy that sings to you, is he your, ah, boyfriend?"
I laughed through the tears. "I don't even know for sure who he is."
"Oh, well, then, ah what was the deal last night? They didn't seem really pleased when they left here. Have a fight? Or did they figure you out or something?"
I sighed and told the story of what happened with Kyle and the note and his subsequent acceptance and then of my recent infatuation with Casey. He listened quietly as I revealed the details of my personal hell and took it in with out comment, just a reassuring squeeze on the arm once in a while or a nod in the right places. And, honestly, I did feel better to have unloaded all that trash that was rolling around in me all those doubts and fears and mindless worry that was associated with not telling anyone and feeling as though I was the only actor in a play that was all about the audience never finding out what my hopes dreams and desires were.
Dad just encircled me again and held me close while my tears of relief streamed from me in a seemingly never-ending flow. Gradually my tears abated and I collected myself, sniffling softly. My dad stood and got me a Kleenex or two. I thanked him for the tissue-and so much more.
"Honestly, Justin, I suspected along time ago. Actually, I was pretty sure, and that is why I insisted that you come with me when I discussed it with your mother. She wasn't very tolerant of the idea that you might have some...interest in the same sex and, frankly, I was really astounded at her small mindedness. So she brushed off our talk about your sexuality and I reminded her that a boy should be around a male for his teenage years for role modeling and development- and not just any male either but your father. So she agreed to those terms and was happy going off to do her partying. Sad to say it, but she is devoted to appearances; and, well, I didn't fit that mold, and anything that isn't perfect doesn't either. So that is why I wanted you here with me: if something happened in your life, I wanted to be there for you to help you, and I knew that she wouldn't. Not that she couldn't, but she is too self absorbed to notice that you have things at issue in your life as well. So, in short, it's ok and I'm here for you."
I stood and stepped into his embrace and nestled into the warmth and comfort that seemed to radiate from him. Oh shit! I had forgotten about Chris! I still didn't know what to do about him.
"Dad, I have one more thing to tell you," I said stepping back from his embrace. "Chris doesn't know and if those guys start trouble, then he is going to want to know why eventually."
"Good point. I think you have only one choice as I see it, and that would be to tell him. Chris has been your friend for a long time, and I think he'll be ok with it. Yes, you should definitely tell him. If it comes out that you haven't been honest with him, then I think that could definitely damage the relationship."
I nodded my head glumly. It seemed I was coming out whether I wanted to or not. Dad threw out the cold breakfast and went to look for his car keys, telling me to get my bag into the car so we could go check in. He offered to stop at McDonalds but I wasn't hungry, and as luck would have it, the plane was ahead of schedule and I boarded almost immediately. I sat on the plane and wondered what the best way to do this would be. Why me? @@@@@@@@
Casey Fremont climbed off the bus joining the stream of young human traffic steadily streaming into the three-story brick structure that served as the high school. What would he say to Justin? What was going on anyway? Lately the only thing on his mind was Justin, his face first thing in the morning, his smile the last thing at night. Why? He's nice and all, pretty good hoops player, and had a good sense of humor. Why was it that when he did think of him, those were never the things he thought of? He always seemed to think of Justin in shorts, of what it might be like to touch that smooth skin and.... These things were troubling because he'd never felt like this before. He'd had too many bad experiences with people who were nice to him because of what he could do for them, because of the stuff he had, never just for him. That was why he brought his cousin Julie to social functions, and then there was no pressure from girls who just wanted to hang with money. Also none of the girls in the school were particularly good looking in his opinion. But this thing with Justin was vexing to say the least. For instance, he found that he was looking for ways to try and make contact, but he was so shy and afraid to find that Justin was like so many others. And that was the hard part really: Not understanding why he felt this way. And why had Justin freaked last night? Did he, Casey, have something to do with that, or was there something else he wasn't aware of? Maybe he'd seen him singing across the street from him. He could still see Justin in his minds eye, smooth stomach flexing in a stretch as he'd pulled his shirt off displaying a toned chest and abs. Then lying on the bed, oh, so seductively in his boxer briefs and that tee shirt, well formed legs glowing with a mellow tan. Shit, he was getting hard. Why was that happening? Where were these thought coming from? He wasn't gay, just....curious. Yeah, that was it. Relief flowed through him. Just curious, and there you have it friends and neighbors. He'd have to ask Kyle why Justin had acted so strangely the other night. After all, he and Justin were close; surely he'd know? Maybe Justin would like to come up to the cabin for the weekend sometime soon? He really hoped so. @@@@@@@@@
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen and welcome aboard Pacific Airlines flight zero six nine with non-stop service to Logan International Airport. We will be ready for departure in just a few moments. At this time we would like to demonstrate some of our safety features......"
I leaned my head back and allowed the drone to wash over me my mind turning to my upcoming discussion with Chris. When would be the right time and place? The plane ride seemed to take an eternity; and when I finally stepped off the plane my mother greeted me with her 'air kiss' that she had perfected with her fake friends.
"Sweetheart! You look absolutely adorable! Obviously, you got your fashion sense from your mother!"
"Dad bought these," I said icily. Not true, but screw her anyway.
"Well, you can't be wrong ALL the time I suppose. Come on, let's get your things; Mass starts at two o'clock, and I don't want to be late. After the burial you can do what you like, the will is being read this evening."
I remained silent as we marched through the airport, moved efficiently through baggage claims, and then to the car. It was a BMW, albeit an older one. One had to have the right brands, darling. She suddenly made me nauseous. My stomach revolted and I dry heaved for a moment.
"You had better not get sick!" She hissed, "You are going to this function if it kills you!"
Her concern was overwhelming. I put my bag in the back seat and she sped out of the parking lot and the few miles down the road to her condo.
I changed quickly, fighting the sour feel in my stomach. No sooner was I done than we were out the door and on our way to the wake. The whole affair was one big put-on and seemed interminable to me. One moron after another offered hollow words of comfort to my mother who offered equally hollow words of thanks.
At last the whole sordid affair DID end, and I was released to the confines of the condo while mom went to see what her take was. I lay down for a moment to brace myself and then got up to dial the phone. I dialed and then hung up. Twice. Soonest begun, soonest done right? So I dialed again and waited for an answer before I hung up a third time. Perhaps tomorrow would be better? Yes, I think so too.
And there it is! Comments are welcome at dabeagleywing@hotmail.com and please visit my web page at http://homestead.juno.com/y-wing/asmodean.html Thank you to all who have written and given their support to me. Love you guys! Special thanks to J.A Kumor for editing, all complaints as to continuity goes to him! LOL Thanks John!