Guardian Angel

Guardian Angel, Chapter 2

Caleb's injuries didn't draw too much attention at school because his mother had carefully covered the darker areas around his eyes with a base makeup, blending it in so it wasn't obvious. While he didn't appear completely unscathed, he didn't look like a zombie or a corpse that an undertaker had prepped for viewing. And since he didn't have gym, he wouldn't mess up her efforts while taking a shower.

The day progressed without incident. He was surprised that he didn't see any of the guys who had attacked him, and that he didn't hear any half-mumbled homosexual slurs either.

He was called to the main office over the intercom just after classes were dismissed for the day. Bret caught up with him, so he wouldn't think he'd been left without a ride.

"So, what's going on, Caleb?"

"I have no clue. Maybe Mom forgot to excuse me for Friday."

When they arrived at the office, Sgt. Orr was talking to Dr. Dickenson.

"Ah, there you are," the principal said. "Let's all go into my office where we can speak privately. Bret, you're welcome to come too."

Once inside, with the door closed, she continued.

"Caleb, how did your day go?"

"Pretty good, Ma'am."

"You didn't get harassed or anything? No name calling?"

"No, Ma'am. I was glad I didn't run into any of the, um guys who hate my guts."

"Good. We're doing our best to see that it stays that way. Sgt. Orr and I had a discussion with several students on Friday. Some of them have been removed from the football roster for the rest of the season. Luckily, Coach Hames has a deep bench this year, and some of the kids who'd been warming the bench got the chance to show what they could do. Losing Matt Owens and Don Harkin didn't mean losing the game against Lincoln. And there are a lot of other happy football players today.

"By the way, those two won't be coming back to school for the rest of the year, and since they're seniors, you shouldn't have to see them again."

"Um, I'm not responsible for getting them kicked out, am I?"

"No, you weren't the one who ratted on them, if that's what you mean. It was postings on social media that did them in. Their girlfriends bragged about their nefarious deeds. Then, some of their followers gave them up when the police explained the consequences of their actions, and did some, uh, bargaining."

Caleb looked toward Sgt. Orr who nodded.

"Don't worry, Caleb, we didn't put thumb screws on them! It's not like the movies, but believe me, there were some pretty scared boys sitting with their parents when we had our come-to-Jesus-meeting. Their families were genuinely shocked to find what they'd helped do. I think the bloody clothes your mom gave us on Friday helped. One mother rushed to the restroom and threw up."

"When did Mom do that?"

"We called at your house soon after you came home from the hospital. You were sound asleep because they'd given you a Valium or something before they released you."

"Jeez! I didn't know they could knock me out like that. I was okay on Motrin."

"You probably were after that first day or two; once you got ahead of the pain."

"So, how come you didn't tell my anything?" Caleb turned to Bret.

"Hey, don't look at me, I didn't know most of this. I knew there were four regulars on the team who weren't at the game, but that's about it. I was concentrating too much on winning to pay attention to the gossip. Besides, I didn't want you to hear anything until you were feeling better. It doesn't help to keep going over bad stuff in your mind."

"Okay, so do I have to testify or anything, Sargent?"

"That depends on the DA. Right now, he's trying to handle this with plea-bargaining to save the taxpayers their hard-earned money, but not at the expense of compromising justice. It could be best for all, but only if the culprits don't get off with just a slap on the wrist."

"I hope they don't take it out on me. I know you guys would try to protect me, but you can't be there all the time."

"I can be your bodyguard," Bret offered. "I'll even sleep over at your house when you have to be alone, or you can come to mine. I've already cleared it with Mom and Dad."

"Bret's been very helpful in giving us leads," Sgt. Orr said. "I think you can count on him to have your back."

"Caleb, I'm not sure how to phrase this, and I don't want you to take it wrong," Dr. Dickenson began, "but some good might possibly come out of this situation. I've never been able to get the goods on Owens and Harkin. I knew they had to be bullying some of the younger kids, but no one would tell on them. With Bret's help, I think we've cleaned house. Perhaps they can be rehabilitated now that they've been caught. I know that's small comfort for the pain you've been through."

"Actually, it helps a lot. I'd like to think that I haven't suffered for no reason. When Grandma Barton was alive, she used to insist that everything happened for a reason."

"I lean toward a more existential philosophy," the principal said, "but I think it's good if something positive can eventually come from a bad situation."

"Well, it looks like you won't have to be hauling my ass around all the time if those guys aren't on campus."

"That doesn't change anything. I'm leaving nothing to chance. I'm gonna be your shadow - the brother you didn't know you had. Now, get in the pickup and let's blow this pop-stand."

"Aye, aye, Captain Thomas!"

Caleb's answer may have been flippant, but it didn't mean that he wasn't thankful for having a protector.

Caleb offered a snack when they got to his house. His mother might be watching their pennies until his dad could return to civilian life, but she would never want him to stint on hospitality.

They sat at the kitchen table conversing. Caleb had always considered Bret to be out of his league, socially; he couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to him.

"So, how did you happen to be walking through the park when I was being attacked? It's not the closest route to your house, is it?"

"No, but it's about the same distance to my house from the gym. I was originally going there to help move the wrestling mats, so the contractor could refinish the floor, but, I don't know; this is gonna sound crazy. Something sorta told me I needed to hurry home. Obviously, I didn't have to be there since nothing was wrong."

"Did you hear voices?"

"No, it was just a strange sensation, like I was supposed to go through the park. Do you have a guardian angel or something?"

"Maybe. I sorta saw Uncle Ted when I was passing out. Please don't tell that around because I know it's weird. I don't want people to think I'm crazy as well as gay!"

"Who's he?"

"He was my mom's younger brother, and he either accidentally overdosed or took his own life when I was real little. From his pictures, I know he was a hunk, and I've been told he was very nice. He couldn't accept being gay, so he sometimes sneaked Grandpa's pain pills to escape reality. I think his death made it a lot easier for me to come out to my parents. They've always been afraid I might follow his example."

"You had ME worried when you said you'd be better off dead!"

"I don't think I'd ever carry through, but I was in a lot of pain."

"Promise me you won't get down on life. If you're feeling low, you can call me anytime, day or night. Honest!"

"That's really cool!"

"I mean it!"

Dressed in his gi, Aiden Fiala waited in his classroom to see if anyone would show up for karate club on Tuesday afternoon. The beginning of the week was a slow time for most team sports, so he'd picked that schedule in hopes of having a reasonable turnout.

As a new teacher in the district, who wasn't involved in coaching any sports teams, he hoped to connect with students in some way outside of the classroom. He wasn't sure how many kids would be interested in karate.

Five freshman boys came in about 10 minutes to 3:00, and a few more older guys made it just on the hour. Bret and Caleb were among them.

Aiden was pleased to find that Bret had a lot of experience, and enlisted him in demonstrating basic moves.

It was two weeks after Caleb's beating, and he was still excused from physical activities. However, he could observe and learn forms, but not join in any punching, kicking, or actual workout routines, and he'd been assured that Bret would help him catch up.

Aiden was thrilled with how much progress was made in the first session. Not only had they gotten organized, but, with Bret's help, the guys had learned even more than he'd hoped.

By the latter part of September, Caleb's body had healed enough that he could participate in all kinds of physical activities. He practiced karate with Bret at his home, but didn't return to gym class until the doctor's excuse expired. It wasn't so much that he didn't like what they did in class, but more that he dreaded the locker room. Occasionally, some kid would call him donkey-dick because his ample cock looked even larger in contrast to his lean body. When others drew attention to it, that part of his anatomy tended to pump up, making him feel even more vulnerable and self-conscious.

He had similar worries when Bret drove them to the reservoir one Sunday afternoon. It was so warm that it seemed like July. The water in the shallow areas wasn't a whole lot cooler than a bath.

To avoid an unintended erection, Caleb had stripped and jumped in quickly. Bret had taken his time undressing and getting in. Whether the strip show was accidental, or for his benefit, Caleb got the opportunity to memorize the details of his muscular body, particularly the part surrounded by a nest of dark curly pubes.

The two of them horsed around in the waist-high water for a while, and eventually swam out to a large oak tree that lay on its side with its root system projecting high in the air at one end. They sat on it in the sunshine, their hips touching.

"Man, this is the best!" Bret exclaimed. "It's a perfect day – no school – no homework – no practice – no clothes!"

Caleb's cock began to swell from their skin to skin contact. He scooted off the tree to immerse his unruly part in the water to hide it.

"Um, it's maybe too nice," he commented. "You know I'm a gay boy, and I don't want to lose your friendship by doing something stupid."

With that, he swam back toward the shore. Bret followed closely behind. When they got to where it was shallower, he spoke.

"I'm not going to stop being your friend whatever you do. It must be good knowing exactly who you are and what you want."

"Yeah, but it's probably even better knowing it when you're a hetero football stud."

"Maybe, but I'm not sure..."

"Not sure of what? You're a good player, and certainly as masculine as anyone I know."

"Not sure of my sexuality..."

As Caleb turned to face his buddy, he could see that the moisture streaming down his cheeks was from his eyes. He reached to put his hands on Bret's shoulders, but found himself drawn into a close, frontal embrace. For an eternity, or possibly a nanosecond, they gazed into one another's eyes. Then their lips met, and their expanding anatomical parts below their waists pressed even more tightly together.

"I know now," Bret whispered. "Will you help me find my way?"

They picked up their towels and discarded clothing and, hand in hand, walked to a sandy spot along the shore that was screened by a semicircle of trees. Spreading their towels, they lay facing in the sun. Caleb had a flashback of his dream.

"Bret, are you absolutely, positively sure you want to pursue this? Yes, I know I'm being redundant, but redundancies save us from serious problems in the technical world, and I need them in my life too. I don't want to get hurt."

"You know I won't intentionally do anything to hurt you."

"Yeah, but circumstances come about which we can't predict, or have any control over. What if your parents find out and prevent us from seeing each other. I couldn't ask you to disobey them for my sake. I have to say that I'd rather take a beating than lose you. And I KNOW what that feels like!"

"I've already had a serious talk with them about us. Mom had figured me out from all my talk about you, and Dad was every bit as reasonable as she was. They agree that you'd be a fine boyfriend."

"Are you pulling my leg?"

"Nope, we really did have that conversation yesterday. You have something else I'd rather pull on anyway," Bret grinned.

"Be serious, Dude!"

"I AM being serious."

"No, you're not. We have two more years of high school counting this one. You'll want to stay on the football team. You can't do that if you're out."

"Why not?"

"Look what happened to me! They'd do the same to you, only worse, because you're supposed to be straight like they are."

"The ones who would have tried that are already expelled from school. Dr. Dickenson is trying to seriously change the culture of the place. No one's likely to mess with me."

Caleb never expected their nude sunning on the beach to turn into anything more serious than holding hands. Bret probably didn't either, but with teenage hormones being what they are, the pair couldn't keep their hands from exploring other parts.

They kissed and petted until they were oozing a steady stream of precum. Bret rolled over on his back and pulled Caleb on top of him. As they continued to kiss and squirm, their jizz boiled over and spilled between their sweaty bodies.

Caleb saw the tears in Bret's eyes and apologized for his part in what they'd done.

"I'm sorry, Bret. Please don't hate me for leading you to do something that disgusts you and makes you feel bad."

"I'm not crying in shame; these are tears of joy! I love you, Caleb. This is the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced!"

Caleb shed a few tears of happiness too.

They washed the residue off in the water and then lay side by side again, holding hands and grinning, until they heard a vehicle turning into the gravel parking lot. A couple of minutes later, two doors slammed shut.

"We'd better put on our shorts in case someone sees our dicks and gets all offended," Bret said.

"Yeah, we don't want to be in trouble for indecent exposure." Caleb agreed.

"Shit!" Bret exclaimed as they caught sight of the new arrivals.

"Well, if it isn't the fag and the fag-lover," Matt said. "We heard you were coming out here."

"What do you want?"

"Were gonna teach this faggot not to rat on us."

"I didn't rat on you," Caleb said. "It was the postings your girlfriends put up that did you in."

"I don't believe it!" Don yelled. "It was one or both of you."

"Remember to be disciplined," Bret said to Caleb in a calm voice. "We can do this. You know a lot more than you think you do."

"What kind of shit are you talking?" Matt sneered. "You want us to believe we can't cream both of you without even bloodying our knuckles?"

"Just go away and leave us alone," Bret demanded. "No one needs to get hurt."

"We don't plan to," he sneered.

With that said, Matt made a lunge at Bret, and Don tried to attack Caleb. Both intended targets spun away from their assailants and gave them a push. As might be expected, their actions made the bullies angry. They came back enraged. This time, Bret sent Matt down with a swift, high kick.

Caleb tried a similar move, but was thrown to the ground when Don caught his foot. He sprang up quickly, and moved away. He felt panicked, as a surge of adrenaline infused his blood.

Bret's chant of "discipline, discipline, discipline" rang in his head and helped him focus. He decided it was now or never. He spun around, flailing his arms as a distraction and struck Don with a well-place kick to the chest. Since Don had been lunging toward him, the force of the impact was greater than it might have been. He went down with a thud. While he was attempting to get his wind back, Caleb put a headlock on him that he'd seen wrestlers use. Don wasn't going anywhere.

Catching his breath, Caleb had a moment of rest in which he could see that Bret had already overpowered Matt. In his case, he had twisted Matt's arm into a very uncomfortable position. He managed to maintain the hold while he called 911 to have the sheriff come.

"We're on Old Amana road right across from the DNR maintenance building," Bret was saying. "Yes, their names are Matt Owens and Don Harkin, and we've had trouble with them before. They beat up my friend pretty bad and they're under a court order not to have any contact with him or me. Yeah, we'll hold them till help gets here."

When either of the bullies tried to escape their captors, they ended up in pain. They stopped thrashing around and figured it would be best to wait a few minutes before trying again. To create a diversion, they began bargaining.

"Okay, let us go and we'll leave you alone from now on," Matt offered.

"SURE, you will," Bret mocked.

"Look, we're not after you, just that queer."

"Shut the fuck up," Bret shouted, as he gave Matt's arm a jerk which made the latter cry out in pain.

"Man, you're gonna break my fuckin' arm, and I'm gonna sue!"

"I know how to put your shoulder out of joint, and that's what I'll do if you don't stop the name-calling."

"What is it with you? Are you in love with him?"

"Could be, but that's my business, not yours."

"Oh my God, you really have turned queer. How did he do it; offer his ass?"

"Everyone knows you and Don do each other. I know what happened last Halloween."

"Who told you that? That's a lie!"

"Don told me how tight your ass is. He made a joke about you bein' a `tight end.'"

"That's a fuckin' lie. Tell him it's a lie, Don!"

"I can't talk; my windpipe's being crushed," Don rasped.

A big black Ford Explorer came to a halt amidst a cloud of dust, and two deputies emerged.

"Well, what have we here?" Sgt. Marshall asked.

"These guys attacked us, and they won't let us go!" Mark spoke up.

"And what is your name, Son?"

"Mark Owens."

"That's the name of a guy named Bret Thomas gave us on the phone as the attacker. So, they ran it on the computer while we were speeding here. It seems you're already in trouble with the law for beating up a kid named, Caleb Barton."

"That would be me," Caleb said.

"Okay, I'll ask you two guys to let the others up, so we can take them to our headquarters to hand them over to the police for violating the terms of their bail agreement."

Bret and Caleb sprang back quickly upon releasing their grip, lest they get hit or kicked. Matt and Don struggled to their feet, seemingly suffering in pain. The deputies were especially impressed that Don, who was much bigger than Caleb, had been subdued by the smaller kid.

"I guess we don't have to put handcuffs on you, if you promise to behave in the car on the way. You'll be locked in, by the way, so don't try anything stupid." Sgt. Marshall said.

The words had scarcely left his mouth when Don and Matt sprinted toward Don's car. He had turned it around, facing the road, when he'd parked it, so it took a split second for them to head east on the gravel road, stones flying behind the tires.

"We've been suckered, and we could go after them, but we've been told not to get into high-speed chases unless it's for a serious crime like robbery or murder. There's been too much collateral damage in the state for doing that. I'll put their names and the description of the vehicle on the air, so someone else can apprehend them.

"Are you guys okay about getting home and all?"

"We would be if one of my tires wasn't flat," Bret observed.

"Let's check it out. They probably let the air out instead of slashing it. We have a pump that runs off the car battery. It's kind of slow, but it'll produce enough air to nurse your truck to a station."

The deputies followed Bret's pickup back toward the blacktop road that went into town. There was a service station about a mile away where they could fill the tire up properly.

Before they got that far, the sheriff's vehicle pulled over on the shoulder to check a damaged bridge rail. Bret stopped a few yards ahead of them, and the boys walked back.

"What color was that Harkin's boy's car, again?" Sgt. Marshall asked.

"Metallic royal blue, just like that streak on the guardrail," Bret said.

"Hmm... From the slid marks on the bridge deck and the amount of damage, I'm guessing that kid lost control on loose gravel and bounced off the rail. That must have really messed up his fancy car. Well, I guess that's what you get for resisting arrest. There'll be more problems coming his way now. He'll have to pay for repairs to the bridge as well as his car."

"It's a wonder they didn't take a dive into the river," Caleb commented. "They're lucky that rail didn't give way."

"Mom, can I stay with Bret tonight? I know there's school tomorrow, but we had a run-in with Matt Owens and Don Harkin and you won't be home," Caleb pleaded into his phone, as they were driving toward town.

"Oh dear! Are you guys okay?" Carol asked.

"Yeah, in fact, I think I'm better than I have been in a long time, but we don't know if they'll come after us."

"What happened?"

"They found us sunning down by the reservoir and attacked us. I don't know how they figured out where we were."

"Oh dear, I may have been responsible for that. A girl called to ask where you were, and I told her I thought you were headed there. She said she was a cheerleader. I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay, Mom. They came to beat us up, but we came out on top."

"How did you do that? They're both bigger than either of you."

"Turn on the speaker, and let me talk to her," Bret requested.

"We used our karate skills and took them down. You won't believe what your awesome son did. He executed a kick that I've mastered, but I'm a black belt and he's just starting."

"He showed me a video of it and he demonstrated it several times. I guess that it either took, or my guardian angel helped me." Caleb told her.

"That's wonderful! As you know I'm pulling a night shift at the hospital, so I'm more than okay with your staying over, if you've cleared it with Bret's folks, and if you give me their number so I can talk to them too."

"Yup, he called them, and they said it was okay with them if it was with you. Please, Mom, we really need to be with each other tonight.

"Oh, just so you know, Bret called 911 and some deputies came out. They were going to take those guys in, but they made a run for it, so they're still on the loose."

Bret's phone rang a few minutes later, and he asked Caleb to answer it and put it on speaker, so he could talk without breaking the law.

"Hi Mom," he said.

"I just had a visit with Carol, and we agreed that you two can spend the night here. We'll expect you both home in time for dinner, and I have a few things we need to discuss when you get here."

"Thanks, Mom. We won't be long. Bye."

"Bye."

"I wonder what it is we have to talk about," Bret worried. "I hope they're not gonna lecture us on safe-sex!"

Author's notes: I am overwhelmed with the number of responses to this new story. Long-time readers will notice many names they haven't seen before. Here is the list:

Lou, Kyle F, Brnx, John L, Barry J, Marty, Jim M, Joe W, Walter Sz, Bill T, Gordon, Jeremy R, Vic, Jim, Jim W, Max, John D, Hayden OS, Jim V, Joe H, Randy M, Charles G, Chandra B, Ott H, Darell R, lc, Hotrod, Daniel L, Jim T, Peter M, Bill K, Daz S, Tom W, Jim S, Neal C, Geoff S, Dan L, Rich L, Darryl R, El Cid, Allan M, Joseph R, Tony C, Tony F, BGS, Paul, Samual B, Dick Z, Steve C, Allen, Jake C, Dennis Chua, Scott M, Hunter, Marty H, Will, Paul R, Dwayne, Dave, Harry B, Vern D, Shawn W, Zero M, Brandon A, Frank K, Derrick M, Kevin K, Don Mac, Mendy D, Sam McM, Henry, Skip M, Joe R, Jonathan RW, Keith M, Don C, Tim T, Gordon I, Tim M, Tyler W, Keith F, and Paul F. (82)

To Jake C: Your mailbox is still rejecting my emails even though I hit reply instead of typing in your address. So, the problem is on your end. Somehow, you've evidently blocked me.

Thank you one and all! You may contact me at dlee169@hotmail.commailto:dlee169@hotmail.com .

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A special thanks to David (Boxerdude) for editing.

David