Come Christmas Steve

Come Christmas Steve

Chapter 18

Heroes

"Steve, get the handcuff key out of my pocket," agent Overcoat instructed. "Get the cuffs off of Whittaker and Shane. The medics will need them off when they get here and I'm sure Shane is more than ready to have them off his wrists."

Steve jumped at the chance to do something useful. He fished the key from the outer pocket of the overcoat and rolled Whittaker carefully up onto his side to take off the cuffs. Then they moved Whittaker's arms to his side. I swore some of the tension in Whittaker's neck melted away as they rolled him back flat.

Steve moved next to me and when he took my hand in his to get the key into the slot, his touch was so gentle, it melted some of my animosity I was feeling toward him. As the first shackle snapped free and fell away, Steve caressed my wounded wrist before releasing the second cuff. Once both hands were free, he let go and it felt so good to bring my hands back around in front of me and stretch. Steve stood awkwardly by, wanting to comfort me but not daring to invade my boundaries. I let him taste the gall a few minutes before stepping over to him and wrapping him up into a hug. "I'm thankful you're safe and that you saved us," I whispered.

"So you're forgiving me?" he asked.

"No. It's not that easy. I'm still very, ah, pissed at you, mostly for all the lies and half-truths and concealed information over the past months. If you'd simply trusted me with the truth, a lot of people would've been spared a lot of pain. It'll take a while for any kind of forgiveness. But I'm still glad you're safe and very grateful you and Billy showed up when you did."

He dropped the handcuffs in the dirt at our feet and pulled me tight to his strong body. He didn't speak. He wept. We held each other for a long time without speaking or moving a muscle, simply welded together in assurance that we were reunited and alive. I understood his need to say he was sorry and appreciated his understanding that it wouldn't be adequate in the moment.

It seemed like an eternity until we heard the whir of the helicopter blades slicing the thick night air. Once they landed in the meadow, the evac team rushed over, carrying their plastic, red boxes that resembled my tackle box used for fishing. We made space as they crouched beside Whittaker, going straight to work on him. Steve and I held each other as we watched them assess Whittaker's seemingly lifeless body. They moved quickly and efficiently as they established his condition and initiated two IV bags. Before they lifted him onto the rescue board, his eyes fluttered briefly open and I caught a glimpse of the light within them, giving me precious reassurance that he was still with us. My heart leapt and Steve and I simultaneously strengthened the grip we had around each other's waists. Fresh tears, tears of excited joy and relief, trickled down my cheeks.

We watched in silence as they loaded Whittaker aboard the evac chopper. The engines emitted an accelerated whine and the machine rose strenuously off the ground, then the nose dipped and it took off with stunning speed. I stood clutching Steve around the waist and watched it disappear behind the trees, hopeful, yet fearful for Whittaker's survival.

Some twenty minutes later, a paramedic unit sped past the dirt road we were on. Some five minutes after that, it returned and turned up into where we were at. The medics worked on Uncle Arty and strapped him to a board. With significant effort, they hoisted him into the ambulance, slammed the rear doors with a metallic thud and disappeared. By then, multiple emergency units had arrived. A second set of paramedics gave me and Agent Overcoat the once over to make sure we were okay. We were. I was shaken up to be certain and emotionally wounded, but not seriously injured physically. They cleaned up my bloody wrists, but that was all there was to do.

Agent Overcoat directed the various crime scene investigators while Billy, Steve and I waited in the back seat of a local police cruiser. Billy was visibly nervous, though he tried to play it off. He was still freaked out over having killed two men, men who I had difficulty thinking of as human, and he was also nervous over the MIT investigation going on. I couldn't blame him for that, but I wasn't worried. There was just no way he did anything wrong.

"Do Mom and Dad know you guys are here?" I asked.

"What do you think?" Billy responded.

"I'm guessing, no."

"Good guess, bro." Then he clarified, "They don't even know Steve has been staying at the ranch. They're both at the big western states farm show in Tulare."

"Oh wow. I guess they would be. So they left you home alone?" I asked.

"I'm not twelve. I can take care of myself," Billy answered a little annoyed.

"I know, but still. It would probably be a lot safer to leave you home alone if you were twelve." I left no doubt from the tone of my voice that I was messing with him. He smiled and gave me a shove with his shoulder.

"He's been behaving himself as far as I could tell," Steve chimed in.

"No wild parties or sexing it up with the cheerleaders?" I queried.

"No, just school, homework and chores, and a little TV is all I saw him doing. He likes to watch this crazy show called 'Ridiculousness' on MTV. It's a collection of internet videos of stupid people doing stupid stuff," Steve confirmed.

"Well, we all could get on that show. I for sure could. I've done one stupid thing after another since you disappeared on me," I said. Then I added, "And you certainly qualify, with your involvement in Uncle Arty's, or should I say your father's, messed up porn business. How could you do that? I just never saw anything like that in you."

"You can't possibly understand, Shane. I was an orphan. I had nothing. I had no one. I didn't know he was my father until I was older. Uncle Arty, as we called him, singled me out along with Todd and a few other guys and made us feel important. He got rid of the mean kid who was torturing me in the older boys' dorm room and worked it out for Simba to become the new alpha male by letting him give out favors. Among the favors was going to this motel to swim and play. I was young when he started involving me in it. I trusted him. Hell, I loved him for the special attention and little gifts. He let me attend a real school, and boy, were the others jealous over that. When Simba aged out and should have had to leave the home, Arty used his money and influence to make Simba the new assistant director and then later on, the actual director of the home. Then there was no one to tattle to, even if we wanted to try."

"But as you got older, you had to know what you were doing was wrong. Especially the sex stuff with him. Why didn't you just refuse to let him do the sex stuff with you?"

"The pictures as a boy were weird at first, but I didn't think that much about them, really. None of us did. He drew us into it a little at a time. It was just something we did so we could swim and we thought we were helping the home get money. As we got older, and were forced to participate in the sex acts, I resented it. We all did. But we still had no real choice. We relied on Uncle Arty and Simba for everything in our lives right down to the seven pair of underwear we got each Christmas. The more things we had to do, the more innocence was stolen from us. Bit by bit, we were demoralized and degraded and something withers up inside of you when that happens. You feel like you have no control of your life or body in any way and you just feel used and dirty - and guilty. It makes no sense to feel guilty over something you can't control, but you just do and it sucks. It gave us all awful nightmares. It causes an irreparable and a deep seated anger. Depression fills the void where your innocence once existed. Once you start living the lie, you start getting trapped in the lies. Eventually, you just get numb."

"I guess I can see that. You're right that I have no way to really understand what you went through. I suppose only those who have had it done to them can really understand how damaging it can be. But what about the stuff you did with the young kids that got you convicted of molestation and put on that sex offender list? If you hated it happening to you so much, why'd you do the same thing with them?"

"I didn't molest any kids! Not ever. I would never do that!" He got red faced and his voice raised a full octave as he declared his innocence. "All the images were manipulated, making it look like I was doing things with them, but I was never even in the room at the same time. It was all staged because I refused to do what you're accusing me of."

"So you were framed?"

"Yeah. I let them frame me. I agreed to take the fall."

"Why?" I asked, incredulous.

"Taking the fall for Uncle Arty, when the cops started poking around, seemed like the right thing to do. The cops needed a perp, and I had the least to lose. Also, that's when Uncle Arty revealed to me that he was really my father. It was like an atomic bomb went off in my gut. You have no idea what it was like to learn there was someone I physically belonged to in this world. It was so wonderful and terrible all at the same time. I loved him and hated him simultaneously. In the end, though, that was the clincher for me. I had to protect my father, I thought. I couldn't lose a parent after I found out I actually had one. You have no idea the power that held in my psyche. I chose to block all the horrible shit he'd done to me out, and just think about the favors he'd done. Besides, I was told that if I didn't take the fall and he was blamed, he'd go to jail and the school would close and all the boys would be sent to abusive foster homes or put out on the streets."

Steve looked out the car window at the commotion outside and shook his head slowly. Then he continued, "My new-found father also promised me the chance at an education and a decent life. For a bonus, he tossed in an education for Todd, who was my best friend at the time. It all worked just like Arty said it would. I got a minimal sentence in juvey and when I got out, I got to go to college as part of my probation and have a shot at a real life. It was the hand I was dealt and I decided to play it."

"But you knew what was going on. You knew the abuse was continuing. You could have exposed it. Instead, you let it continue even if you didn't participate directly in it. You let other boys get hurt like you were hurt. I never thought you were capable of that kind of callousness."

"I know. You're right. I've regretted that and lived with it gnawing away at my gut like a sewer rat, every fucking day. But there were always the threats. When you have very little, you get desperate about not losing it. I had a shot for an education - a way out and I didn't want to risk losing that. I rationalized that it wasn't that bad and I'd survived it so the others would too. Besides, I didn't want to go to prison either, and even though I hadn't done anything, it was made to look like I had. I knew no one would be there in my corner to protect me. I'd learned long ago that an orphan, especially a gay one, is automatically guilty of whatever he's accused of. I got bullied and beat up at the Christian academy I attended, and I just learned to take it. If I fought back, I was automatically labeled the instigator and threatened with expulsion. If something came up missing, I was automatically blamed for stealing it. We had to wear jock straps for gym class and being a private school, all ages attended there. Three times I popped a boner in gym and older boys saw it. They called me a fag and other cruel names and tortured me for that too. Two of the older boys made me suck on their dicks in the toilet stall. No one cared. Uncle Arty just told me to keep my nose clean and try to stay out of trouble. They didn't like the idea of my kind being there to begin with. So, I didn't really trust the authorities to do anything to anyone besides me, even if I did tell."

"God, I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine how awful that had to be for you. It breaks my heart what you suffered. And to think I was whining because I had to live in my brothers' shadows. What a whiny ass you must have thought I was," I said embarrassed. "Why didn't you share this with me?"

"Crap, dude," Billy interjected, "That's the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard. I'm gonna go home and apologize to every kid I was ever mean to."

"So another thing I still have to know. Why did you take off and not let me know where you went, and why did you leave that damned flash drive behind?"

"Well, things were going along just fine. I was studying, getting good grades, Todd and I were getting money for school, hooking up now and then for a little fun, and then you came along as my roommate. We went for Christmas break to your ranch and I met your family and I saw a whole different kind of life. Something I'd never imagined existed. I got so confused and hopeful that I might actually be able to have some small part of that kind of love I experienced with your family. I fell in love with you up there. When I was able to counsel you in the loft that night, I felt important and - well, needed." He choked up. He held up a finger to let us know he was working on getting control and ultimately finished with, "I felt valuable for the first time in almost forever. I felt human again."

"So you fell in love with me or with my family?" I asked a bit too sarcastically.

"You! God, how can you be so insecure about everything?" He shot back. Then he took a calming breath and continued, "But I realized, I'd just end up contaminating you. I was like radioactive. I was on the sex offender watch list. I was on parole and restricted from internet access or even having a cell phone. I was restricted from being within a hundred yards of any place where children meet or congregate like a school or a playground. I was surrounded with perverted and dangerous people, and I was possibly infected with STD's. I didn't want any of that to affect you. I was just so confused and despondent over it all."

I noticed Billy had furrowed his brow and was thinking about something Steve had said. To move off the love talk, I asked Steve, "But I still don't get what that has to do with you taking off like you did?"

"After we got back from Yellowstone, Todd gave me that flash drive after English class one day and told me I was to keep it safely hidden. He told me the heat was back on Uncle Arty's operation and they even thought they had a mole. Turns out they were right about that. Anyway, they pulled off all the critical, sensitive information on their customers and criminal operations and apparently as many porn files as they could and then destroyed the hard drives at the motel with all the incriminating data on them. They got clean, fresh computers with nothing on them as replacements. When they needed something off the drive, Todd would get a call from Simba and I would have to meet with him and give him the flash drive. He'd get what he needed off of it and transmit it from his car, then give me back the drive."

"So that's where you were going off to when you said you needed to work on your English project?"

"Yes," Steve admitted. That reopened a wound in my heart.

"What about the time you stayed away all night?"

"Simba wanted more than just the flash drive from me that night." Steve dropped his head and draped his hand over his eyes in shame. I didn't feel like I had any right to judge him on that since I'd weakened with Whittaker also. But it still hurt me to hear it. I was still a little suspicious of Steve and Todd's relationship too.

"It's all right, Steve. I understand. What could you do about that? I mean, it's not like you wanted it and he had all the power over you. He was the one giving you the college money, I guess?"

"Yes. He'd get it from Arty and pass it on to me and Todd."

"So it was just something you had to endure. I understand that, and I don't blame you for it. What could you have done?" I did understand, but it still bothered me.

"I could have told him to fuck off. I could have stood up and been a man instead of a scared little orphan boy. I could have kicked his ass and gone to the police with the incriminating flash drive. But I didn't. I let him do what he wanted with me just like back in the home. I let him fuck me raw and expose me to God only knows what. Then I'd come back to you and you wanted some attention and sex from me, but I was too tapped out and feeling embarrassed and guilty, not to mention, dangerous. So I just threw myself into my studies and did more homework than I really needed to as an excuse not to be making it with you. Plus, I had to have the library as an excuse to be away so often for whenever Simba wanted information and to get his rocks off with me."

"Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Billy exclaimed. I'd forgotten he was even sitting there I was so wrapped up in Steve's explanation. "What the fuck do you mean Shane wanted sex from you? Holy shit! Of course. Oh my god, how could I have not known? It's so obvious now. My bro's a queer. You two are butt buddies. Oh my god! Oh my ever living god!"

"Shit," I said. "Billy, we're not butt buddies. That's so, so disgusting. We're in love, bro. Or I was - am. We made love to each other," I clarified. Then I added, "Fuck it! I guess there's no hiding from it any longer. Yes, Billy. I am gay." Then at the top of my lungs I screamed out, "You hear that world? I'm GAY! I'm coming out. I'm GAY, I'm GAY, I'm GAY, so fucking deal with it!"

"Damn Shane, chill out. I'm not raggin' on you over it. I'm just shocked, okay. Honestly, I'm not all that freaked out by it. I just, well, I just never, okay, so I'm a little freaked out by it, but I can deal. I can deal with it. Yeah. I mean, yeah."

"Good. Because that's what I am and I don't care who knows it anymore. I'm just so fucking tired of all the deception and lies. And why does it matter anyway? It doesn't change who I am inside or make me any less a person," I said.

"Sure. Right. I agree," Billy nodded. "Holy shit, what'll I tell Mom when she asks if anything happened while they were away? 'Oh, not much, Shane's friend, Steve showed up and hung out a few days and then we took a road trip to Missoula where I shot two guys in the head, got investigated by the FBI for murder and found out my brother's gay. Just the usual stuff.'" Billy made me laugh. He could always find a way to make me laugh.

"Hey, seriously, let me be the one to break it to Mom and Dad, okay?" I asked.

"Hey, I'm not saying shit about it until you do. No worries there. Not a conversation I'd like to have with the old folks, trust me on that one."

That little bit of laughter brought down the level of tension and I pursued Steve a little harder, "You never really got to my question, Steve. Why did you leave without saying anything to me? Why didn't you put some more explanation in your note? And why, oh why, did you leave that stupid-ass flash drive behind?"

"Okay, well, on Valentine's Day, when you gave me the computer and then told me you'd set up a Facebook page, I really panicked. I knew it was a total violation of my parole. I could end up going to jail over it. Of course, the chance that my parole officer would even see it was slim, but I was still paranoid. I could see you were really excited to do it for me and I knew you had no idea why it was bad, but all I could think about was going to jail. Real jail, not juvey. So I decided to agree to keep the computer for your sake, but I knew I had to get that Facebook page taken down somehow. After you left with Whittaker to go shoot pool, Todd showed up and said Simba had come across my Facebook page and was really furious. How long was it up and why did you put pictures of us on it, by the way?"

"Only like a week. I created it on my laptop since your laptop barely showed up in time. And why wouldn't I put pictures of us on it? I was excited and proud of us being together. There weren't any of us kissing or holding hands or anything like that."

"Well that really pissed Simba off. The pictures of me and you in Glacier and all of us in Yellowstone made it look like I wasn't taking school seriously to him and like I wasn't taking laying low seriously. But when I tried to delete the Facebook page, I didn't have the password to get rid it. While I was trying, Todd showed up and said I had to meet with Simba right away. He'd seen the Facebook page already. I was a wreck. I was told to pack everything because I wasn't coming back. I was freaking out and in my hurry, I completely forgot about the flash drive. I thought about telling you more in my note, but I decided if anyone did come looking for me that it would be better for you to honestly not know where I was or why I left. Hiding my past from you was more about protecting you from my past than anything else."

I didn't know if I could believe that or if it was just a convenient thing for him to say. I didn't react positively or negatively, so he continued, "I met Simba at Todd's place and I loaded my stuff in the back seat of his Camaro and we took off. He told me we were going all the way to Missoula to the place by the river where Uncle Arty used to film us boys swimming naked. This is the very place. We'd get in the water right over there where they were planning to shoot you and Whittaker."

"They did shoot Whittaker," I corrected a bit coldly.

"Well, yeah. I know. I just ...." He shook it off and continued, "Simba said we were going to meet up with my father, Arty. When I asked why, he refused to say. I got a bad feeling about what was going down. Then, he asked me for the thumb drive and I told him I'd forgotten it. He got really pissed at me, saying I was gonna end up getting him killed too.'"

"Oh my ever living god! They were planning on killing you?" Billy gasped.

"Yeah, I knew too much and I was considered a risk because I had started telling Simba I wanted out of everything. He kept telling me there was only one way of getting out and it involved a bullet." Steve paused to compose himself. I put a reassuring hand on his thigh.

"Go on. It's okay," I said.

"When Simba accidentally blurted that thing out about killing, I freaked. I realized he was taking me to get popped. I grabbed the gear shift and forced it into park. The car came to a screeching halt, I grabbed the keys, turned off the engine and jumped out. I threw the keys down the road. Simba freaked out and called me a fucked up, stupid, ungrateful bitch and ran off to find the keys. I grabbed one of my suitcases and the guitar and ran off into the trees. I made my way back to campus and went to see Todd. I asked if I could stay with him. He, of course, said no. They would for sure come looking for me and for sure they'd look at Todd's place. Todd was scared for his own life by then. I couldn't think what to do or where to go. That's when I got the idea to hide out at your ranch until things died down. I figured they would for sure go get their precious thumb drive from our dorm and then eventually give up looking for me once they had the drive. I thought they might escape to Mexico or some other place like that if they thought I was going state's evidence on them. They had drug lord and sex trade connections down there. Simba had talked about fleeing the country and had even talked about me going with them if they ever went. I never imagined that you might take the flash drive before they got to it and end up getting all involved like this. I was trying to protect you by getting away and instead, I put you in so much danger. I'm so sorry. I'm just so sorry." He dropped his head again and covered his face with both hands and started to softly weep. This time I believed him about being sorry. I also believed he loved me, enough to leave me.

I lay my head back against the head rest and squeezed my eyes tightly shut. Brilliant little stars and shapes started swimming across my eyelids. It was a nice distraction from the alternate universe I'd been thrown into. Billy put his arm compassionately around Steve and pulled him in close to comfort him while he cried. I realized I should have been doing that, but I honestly just didn't want to at that moment. It was a nice gesture and I was surprised Billy made it, since he'd just learned we were gay. I took it as a positive sign that Billy wasn't all homophobic. I put my head back again and resumed the light show on my eyelids. I needed the darkness. I wished it could swallow me up into some cosmic black hole and I could just stay engulfed in the cold blackness where none of this mess existed.

Agent Overcoat, startled us by jerking the door open. He climbed into the front seat along with a rush of cold air. He pulled his coat around his chest and rubbed his hands in front of the heater vent. "Damn, it's cold out there."

I shivered from the blast of cold air. My bare feet had never really warmed up even in the warm car. "What's happening?" I asked.

"We're about done here. I have some good news and some not so good news."

"Good news first," I blurted. "I need some."

"I got word from the hospital. Mr. Whittaker is stable and his prognosis is good."

"Yes! Thank God!" I shouted. The others gave their own little cheers. "Any more good news?"

"Well, yes. There won't be any murder charges against Billy."

"Whew," Billy heaved.

"But, I have been instructed to hold you, Billy and charge you with voluntary manslaughter. You just can't grab a gun and go vigilante on people. We are also charging you, Steve, with that same crime along with numerous sex crimes in connection with your involvement with Arty's empire."

Steve dropped his head and Billy started to bawl and plead for forgiveness. I got angry.

"No fucking way!" I shouted. "Billy is the hero here. You can't do this. If he'd just gone to the cops, they probably wouldn't have believed him in the first place and even if they had, by the time they did anything about it, I'd be dead. DEAD! You might also have been dead. If you'd woken up without Billy taking those guys out, they would have shot you again for sure, only with real bullets. So you owe your own fucking life to Billy here. Vigilante my ass! He didn't come looking for a fight or hunting someone down, he came looking for me. He didn't know who had us or even if anyone had us. All he knew was that I could be in danger and he had a gun to protect himself with. That's legal in this state. Hell, for all he knew, there could be bears or mountain lions out here. This is just a bunch of fucking bullshit! God dammit Steve, now you've even ruined Billy's life!" I wished I could take it back as soon as I'd said it. It was cruel and unfair, but it just tumbled out from my frustration over Billy getting charged with a crime.

Steve winced and groaned and started violently pounding his head with his fists, screaming out "FUCK!!! FUCK!!! FUCK!!! I wish I was dead! I'm just so fucking worthless! I wish she'd just fucking aborted me like my father wanted her to! I hate myself! I hate myself so fucking much!"

"Oh God, Steve, stop it! Stop it! I'm sorry," I cried out, "I didn't mean it. It just came out. I'm sorry. You're not worthless. It's really your father's fault, not yours. Please stop." I grabbed at his wrists and Agent Overcoat reached over the seat and helped me until we restrained him from hitting himself. He broke into tremulous sobs and I pulled him against my breast and held him there while he cried it out. My heart broke for him, for us, for all of us.

"What you say is true," Officer Overcoat said to me as Steve started to calm down. "We are projecting Billy's intentions and if you stick to that argument you just made to me about Billy only having the gun for protection while searching for you, I think it holds water. Especially since Billy's still technically a minor, barely at 17, but still a minor. Steve, on the other hand, certainly knew he was after his father and brought Billy and the gun along with the intent to kill. However, both of you stick to the line that you were just out looking for Shane and Mr. Whittaker. Don't talk to anyone without a lawyer, Billy, or you either, Steve, and be sure to suggest that possible defense to them. It's not manslaughter if you just happened upon the danger and shot to protect an endangered person or if you shot in pure self-defense. If, as you said to me, Stankowski was shooting at you while running up here, then you would be justified in shooting him. If you can keep this in juvenile court, you'll be fine, I'm sure. I just can't do anything about it right now."

"Well, can you release him into my custody for now at least, since he's a minor?" I asked.

"Not hardly," Agent Overcoat said, "You're under arrest on allegations of molesting that boy in Yellowstone. The charges made against you earlier regarding the boys at your school where you work are complete fabrications of Arty's, but it appeared to me from the security video that I saw, you are at least guilty of indecent exposure to a minor child, and having followed him inside his empty hotel room leaves it up to his testimony as far as anything worse that may have happened." I nearly swallowed my tongue. I was speechless. In the silence, the agent finished up with, "We won't be needing handcuffs, but we will head down now to the county jail and get you boys a room for the night. Well, not Billy. If we can't get his parents here, which I presume we can't, he'll have to go to the juvenile detention facility until they can get here. He won't go in with the population, though. Don't worry, they have a monitored holding room that's very safe."

I still couldn't speak. My mind was running rampant with all the possibilities - prison, sex offenders list, prison, prison. "Oh my god," I thought, "I could go to prison for helping a kid get into his hotel room." Talk about no good deed going unpunished. "Agent Caprino, you have to believe me, nothing happened in that room. It all went down exactly as I told you it did. Please, don't ruin my life for no reason. I beg you."

"I don't have that power, Shane. I saw what I saw and I'm bound by duty to investigate it. I'm sorry. Like I said, if the boy says nothing else happened, then it will just be a misdemeanor exposure charge."

I rolled my head back onto the headrest and shut my eyes tightly. Bright orange and neon green sparkles exploded in my mind's eye. It helped me escape the bad news I'd just been given.

Before we left, Billy and I embraced and held each other until the deputy insisted we had to leave. We assured each other it would be all right and then climbed into separate police cars. I had Billy give me Karl's phone number from his phone before we parted, however. After I climbed into the back of my cop car, I looked over at Steve who muttered, "I'm so sorry."

I just shook my head and replied softly, "Not your fault. You're a victim too."

When we arrived at the county jail, the booking process was handled in a more professional manner than at Arty's garage prison. I was given a new clean jumpsuit and a pair of white socks with shoes that resembled boat shoes to wear. I was grateful to not be barefoot. They actually had room to put me and Steve in the same empty cell by ourselves and I was so glad for that.

The thin mattresses on the cots were filthy, but I didn't care. I was exhausted. They told us we could make our phone calls in the morning after bail was set and that if we could not obtain or afford an attorney that one would be provided. I knew my call would be to Karl. I rehearsed his phone number in my head several times.

I pulled the grey blanket over me and propped my arm under my head since there was no pillow. "Good night Steve," I said.

"Good night?" he questioned flatly, "Hardly."

"Yeah, I guess not. At least, we're alive. There's that."

"Unfortunately, in my case," Steve grumbled.

"Stop that. You're scaring me. I'm sorry for what I said before. This isn't your fault. You're the biggest victim of all. I can't even begin to comprehend the levels of hell you've been through. I have no right to judge you. Forgive me for implying that you were responsible. I love you, Steve. I always will. You need to love yourself."

"I was starting to," Steve responded. "I thought I had it together when we went to your ranch together. Hell, I was giving you advice on how to live and about appreciating your family. How ironic and stupid is that? I started to imagine it could all work out and be wonderful. You'd be the prince who kissed this frog and made all my warts disappear. I'd suddenly get all better and become the kind of man you thought I was. When we had sex together, it wasn't disgusting or shameful, it was beautiful and fulfilling. It was joyful. I had no idea that sex could be that way. Even doing it with Todd, though it was mutually concensual, it was just a fancy way to masturbate together. But with you and me, it was real love we made together and it filled my soul with poetry. Then, the shit hit the fan again with my father and Simba wanting me to get involved again by hiding the flash drive. I knew I was endangering you and then Simba started demanding the ugly sex from me and darkness just overwhelmed me again."

He paused and I walked over to his cot and sat on the edge of it. I took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.He smiled appreciatively and continued, "Then, you started wanting more from me, understandably, and you wanted me to open up to you and share more about my past, again understandably. It just got so horribly complicated. I'd fallen in love with you and I didn't want to hurt you by lying to you, but I didn't feel like I could tell you the truth either. I was desperately afraid I'd lose you if you knew what kind of a disgusting, filthy, used rag I was. I felt so trapped and then the computer thing happened and, well, you know. I promise you I never would have left if I had any idea you and Whittaker would be affected like this."

"I believe you, Steve. I do."

"Can you forgive me?"

I paused. I wanted to be honest. I had to be honest. "I don't know. I want to. But, I'm really hurt by your lack of trust in me. I put my life and Whittaker's life at risk and maybe even got Calvin killed. We still don't know about him. None of it would have happened if you had just been honest with me."

"I know. Who's this Calvin guy you keep talking about? How does he fit into all of this?" Steve asked.

"Calvin's this computer genius that Jensen knew from choir. He helped us decode the files on the flash drive. That's where I saw the pics of you with the little boys and I got sick, dude. Sick to my stomach. Then your father's goons raided his apartment and stole all his computers. He had the good sense to hide the flash drive so they didn't get it, but then he broke under pressure when they captured us and he took them back to his apartment to get the drive and we haven't heard from or about him since. We don't know if he's alive or dead. Your fucking old man told us that he ordered his goons to kill him once they got the flash drive, but we don't know that for sure."

"Oh. Wow."

"Yeah. Wow. Calvin begged me to just go to the cops, but I held out. I wanted to try and find you first, and like an idiot, I didn't trust the cops. I should have."

I gave his hand a final squeeze, walked back to my cot, rolled onto my back and wondered about Calvin, praying he was still alive. I prayed his life wouldn't be on my conscience forever. I feared the worst, however.

We lay there in silence for a while. Steve finally broke the stillness with a question. "Shane, do you believe in hell?"

"Of course, we're in it."

"No. You know what I mean. After we die. Do you believe there's a hell there?" Steve asked again.

"I already told you. I think this is hell. I think after we die, we recognize it when things are so much better where we go to, even for the complete, bastardly assholes like your old man. I think the hell for them will be realizing and facing exactly how much they hurt the other children of God. I think they'll get to live with that awful knowledge for a while before they get better. That will be their punishment. I think we'll all have to face the consequences of our actions towards others to some degree. It's my theory, though, that in the end, the ultimate result will be a better existence than we have here. I think if we're living with a loving God, it'll have to be a better place and we'll know better about how to treat each other."

"Hmmm. I hope you're right. I'm afraid of dying. I'm afraid of facing what I've done."

"Like hurting the younger boys you mean?" I asked.

"NO! Shane, you have to believe me about that. I swear to you, I never ever did anything with boys younger than me. EVER! I couldn't. I know how much it damaged me and I could never do that to another kid. Never. Sexual innocence is a great treasure meant to be discovered on a child's terms and in his own due time. Sexuality should flower from self-exploration or with equally curious peers, but never, ever, should it be stolen away or forced. That robs them of the incredible joy of sex and damages the child's self-image all for the sake of some selfish asshole's perverse gratification. It's absolutely unforgivable to me. Until I met you, and shared what we did together, sex was just - just empty and even ugly in a way."

"Sorry. I believe you about not messing with the younger boys," I said. "I meant like letting it go on and not reporting it." I still had such a hard time really understanding that part.

"I was weak, like I told you. I have no better answer. Unless you were in my shoes, you could never understand. Why did you never stand up and tell your family how you felt? Why did you never face being gay?"

"I was afraid of the repercussions, I guess."

"Exactly. Fear sucks the courage from your soul. Insecurity and self-loathing jump right into that empty spot where your courage used to be," Steve stated.

"I guess I see that. I wish I could just go back in time and do things differently," I pined.

"Yeah. If only. I suppose since we can't change the past, the only thing left for us to do is to learn from it and not repeat the same damn mistakes." After Steve said that, I wondered if we'd get the chance to learn from our mistakes. I feared the legal system was going to control our destinies for years to come. Tears trickled down my cheeks.

I faded into the blackness of a fitful, restless sleep. The gorilla, who haunted so many of my dreams, showed up again, chasing me through the halls of a large prison. I ran past the cells full of inmates cheering for him to catch and rape me. They were betting cigarettes and chewing gum on how quickly he would catch me. Suddenly, I saw an open cell door and I rushed inside, slamming the steel barred door behind me. I fell backwards onto a filthy grey mattress and panted to catch my breath. The Gorilla grabbed the bars and ripped the door free of its hinges with minimal effort. Panic overwhelmed me. I was trapped. The gorilla approached me snorting and baring his teeth, an ugly pink erection sprouted from his hairy groin.

"NO!" I cried out, "I'm innocent! I don't belong here!" The gorilla stopped when I screamed my innocence, looking confused. Then a dark haired woman appeared in the doorway and shrieked at the gorilla to do it. She insisted I must pay for my crimes and demanded he attack me. With renewed resolve, the gorilla pinned me to the filthy cot and began shredding the prison jumpsuit off my body until I lay naked with bloody claw marks across my back and buttocks. A small boy peeked out from behind the woman's black skirt and begged, "No mama, no," he repeated it over and over, but the woman ignored him and continued to demand justice, ordering the gorilla to brutally punish me. A dark haired man appeared next and pleaded for the woman to stop her wailing as the gorilla straddled me. I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck and the beast's course fur grated against my naked skin. I was begging for someone to listen to me and for mercy. Then, through tear filled eyes, I saw a fuzzy image of a man in an overcoat and Whittaker, my friend, burst into the room. The man in the overcoat silenced the woman and pulled her from the doorway. Whittaker rushed in and with six long arms, grabbed the gorilla and threw him off of me. The gorilla snorted once at Whittaker, then ran off on all fours, grunting and snorting in defeat.

Whittaker pulled me from my bed and wrapped me up in his arms. He was back to normal with only his two long arms and large, soft hands. He was suddenly naked and I melted into him, flesh to flesh, as he comforted me and reassured me that I was safe. As he gently caressed my back and ass cheeks, the gashes healed themselves at his mere touch. My heroic friend had saved me once again. I woke, tears trailing down my cheeks, to the pale light of the cell I was in.

I curled up in a ball and longed for it all to be over. I so desperately wanted my old, boring life back. I spent maybe an hour or more staring over at Steve and pitied him for the horrible life he'd been subjected to. I wanted to make it all better for him but I knew it was outside my ability. I had no magic in me. After some time, my mind quit dwelling on all the potential nightmares that still lay ahead for Steve and for me and I slept again, dreamless this time.

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I appreciate your comments and thoughts on the story. There is one more chapter left to come and then we will be leaving these characters to live out their lives. Hans Schreiber h.schreiber@hushmail.com