Guy's Secret Chapter 1 4/09/00
Written by: Justin Case ---------
Disclaimer: This story is written about gay love. It is graphic in nature, especially with sexual content. The story, while based on truth, is fiction. It is an idea conceived between the writer and his editor. Any resemblance to real people, places, or activities, is pure coincidence. This story is the property of the writer. It is placed here for your enjoyment. However, if this story is illegal in your community because of its content and your age, you should consider leaving now. ---------
Words from the author: Usually I stand on my soap box at this point. Not for this story. I will let the story speak for itself. ' Preface: Guy, oh Guy, you are with us. We keep you here. Rest, oh little one, rest.
It was a spring day in Hilton, Mississippi, that midmorning, May 1987. There was a crispness in the air, with a certain freshness. The trees were fully clothed with their bright green leaves. The dogwoods had since shed their pink and white blossoms. The lilacs were in bloom, and their aroma, their sweet, sweet aroma wafted in the gentle breeze.
The rolling emerald grounds on the Sugardale Farm were alive with vibrance. The crickets were singing their songs. The birds abounded in the crystal blue sky above. Sitting on top of the hill was a dilapidated farm house, surviving only with the life radiating from the Sugardale family.
The Sugardale family was a clan from Hilton County, whose lineage ranged back to the beginning of statehood in little old Mississippi. The name was known to all, all who were anyone in Mississippi. The name was known to many south of the Mason-Dixon line. A long lineage of Sugardales had survived and were the most prominent of families, at one time. They had been "blue-bloods" of the grand old south.
In the spring of 1987, the family consisted of Melvin Sugardale, Sr., a timid little bespectacled man, balding, and in his forties. Miss Lil, his wife. Oh yes, Miss Lil, a controlling miserable bitch of a woman. She liked her drink, her "spirits" as she called them. Miss Lil liked two things. Her booze and her sex. She shared neither with her husband. Miss Lil hated two things, her husband and her six children.
Miss Lil was a tall and lanky woman. She stood five foot ten inches, and wore her hair on the top of her head. Her hair was bright orange, and her eyes were green. She had a huge nose, and a mole on her left cheek. She reminded people of the wicked witch from the movie "Wizard of Oz," except for her hair color. She only looked good after several shots of bourbon. Then she only looked good to other lowlifes, such as herself. Miss Lil married Melvin for prestige, and ego. Melvin married her because she said yes.
The Sugardale children were, in order of age, Guy, Melvin Jr., Sally Ann, Bobbie Sue and Billie Mack, and Gregory. Guy was fourteen. He was a strapping youth. He was the eldest of the Sugardale children. He had light brown hair and kept it closely cropped. He had turquoise eyes, not blue, not green. He had boyish looks about him. He was a beautiful boy. Guy was tops in his ninth grade class, with his academics and personality. His passion was the stage; Guy was in the Hilton High Drama Club, Lamplighters. Next was Melvin, Jr., thirteen, and pretty nondescript. Sally Ann, the eleven year old hellion. Sally Ann was an auburn blonde, she would be a heartthrob some day. The twins Bobbie Sue and Billy Mack, the cutest eight year olds on the planet. Both adorned with brown hair, sparkling blue eyes, and the pudgiest cheeks. Angelic like, the twins. Loved by young and old, they were gifted with looks alone. Last, but not least, was the baby, Gregory. He was six, and had the best schmooze face; he would look up at people with those deep set cow's eyes. He had a dark set of huge brown eyes, and the cutest little face people could lay their eyes on.
Melvin was a farmer; he raised some of the finest vegetables in the county. The Sugardale Farm was known for its okra and its array of legumes. It was a farm that had been handed down from generation to generation. Melvin was the fourth generation to farm the nutrient rich soil. The Sugardale farm consisted of twelve hundred acres of land. Rolling meadows, fields, forest, and a mile of river backing the property line. The Great Mississippi was the boundary, out back, "way out back" as the Sugardales would say. He was tired now, he hadn't been right in quite some time. He had what he called his "spells", he would get light headed, and feel dizzy. He was just too busy to go to Doc Harrington. It was planting season.
"Damn tractor, fucking machinery," Melvin was muttering to himself while grasping the wrench in his hand, while he laid under the massive pieces of steel.
"GRR, argh, fucking bolt, won't goddamn... shit... YES," he said, with his voice relaxing with the muscles of his arm, as the bolt freed.
Melvin was in a panic of sorts. His spells had been plaguing him most of the day. He had gotten up that morning and had that woozy feeling again. He felt out of balance; as he walked he had to hold onto things to steady himself. Although he was scared, he kept it to himself.
The children were playing on the front porch to the house. Guy was keeping eyes on them. Miss Lil hadn't gotten out of bed yet; it was just about lunch time. Guy had gotten the twins up and bathed them. He had to bathe them every morning as they always wet the bed. He had changed the bedding and started the laundry. Guy had made breakfast for everyone, including his father. At fourteen, Guy took on the responsibilities that Miss Lil neglected.
Sally Ann was sitting in the porch swing. Watching and taking it all in, she said to Guy, "You want me to do lunch?"
"No. Well, what did you want to make?" Guy asked, as he looked up from the game of dominos he and Melvin, Jr. were playing.
"Grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, and a green salad?" Sally Ann asked, seeking approval. Her eyes never looked up, she kept them to her feet, dangling off the swing.
"OK, I suppose, uhh, you better make something for Mommy too, you know she hates tomatoes," Guy said, looking over at the twins who were having a make believe tea party.
"I'll make her a mayonnaise sandwich, and some fried okra, with cold cucumber slices," Sally Ann said, and still never lifted her eyes.
"Yeah, I'll run to the machine shop and get Dad," Guy said as he stood up to leave the porch.
"Come on, kids, you can help," Sally Ann said to the younger children, and still never looked up. She stopped swinging and walked to the door, ragamuffins in tow.
Guy walked slowly toward the machine shop. He really wasn't in a hurry, he wanted to be alone. He wanted to think about the production the Lamplighters would be performing next week. He had tried out for the part of the Phantom; the company had chosen someone older. Guy was just one of the chorus. He felt a breeze kick up. A real chill came over him.
"Dad?" Guy called out, as he entered the machine shop. The machine shop was in total disarray, parts and equipment strewn about the concrete floor. The work bench that lined the back wall was covered with assorted nuts, bolts, chains, and tools. In the center bay sat the John Deere, the "Green Monster", the work horse of the farm. He could feel a stillness in the shop. He saw his father's legs poking out from under the tractor.
He approached his father. "Dad, lunch time."
No movement, no sound came from the man under the machine. Guy walked closer.
"Dad? Did you hear me?" Guy started to bend down; he stopped. Fear began to hold him. Something was wrong. It wasn't like his father to nap in the day. He bent down again, this time shaking his father. A look of total shock and apprehension crossed the young man's face. He was face to face with the grim reaper. Death had taken his father. He stood, turned, and ran out of the shop and across the field towards the house.
"Mommy, Mommy! Help, HELP, help. Oh my God MOMMMMMYYYYYYY," he screamed as he ran into the house.
Sally Ann was in the kitchen. The scream had startled her, she dropped the salad bowl. Salad flew everywhere. The door off the back of the kitchen opened, the door to the Sugardale master bedroom. Miss Lil emerged.
"You goddamn kids, better shut the hell up!" she shrieked as she came into the kitchen, slipping on the salad that had spilled. She looked at Sally Ann and slapped her across the face.
"Bitch, that was my Mother's bowl, you clumsy fucking ox," Miss Lil bellowed at her daughter.
"Oh, Mommy," Guy cried, "Daddy, its DADDY"
"Stop your crying. What are you some kind of pussy, boy?" Miss Lil spewed the words like venom, at her eldest son.
"Oh, Mommy, something is wrong, Daddy isn't moving, he's in the machine house," Guy spurted, like bullets from a rapid fire rifle.
Four days later they buried Melvin Sugardale, Sr. Guy was so lost. His Dad had been a buffer of sorts, for the other children. Melvin, Sr. was able to run interference, he would send the children to do chores, so Miss Lil couldn't harm them. Oh no, he never stood up to his wife. Guy wondered what was going to happen.
Guy had one friend in the whole world, Matty. Matty was a year older than Guy. Matty was a sophomore. The boys had known each other for years. They had done everything together. Guy was denying them, but he had more than the regular feelings for his friend Matty. Matty could sense the feelings, he had them as well.
Matty was about five feet seven. He was the same height as Guy. That was where the resemblances ended. Matty had shoulder length jet black hair, his hazel eyes were set apart, he had a flat nose, and a very masculine look to his face. He had a strong frame, and his muscles rippled and bulged. When he smiled, both his dimples showed. He was much darker complexioned, too. He had that European Italian look. He was a handsome youth.
The two boys shared everything together, their joys and sorrows. It was no surprise that Matty took his place next to Guy at the funeral. Matty never said a word to Guy during the funeral. He would have time to talk with him after the service. A reception of family and friends would be held after.
The funeral was held in the back forty, the Sugardale Family Cemetery. The back forty, a section of the "way out back", near the river. Four generations of the Sugardales laid there now.
The house was full of people. The whole county had shown up for the burial of one of their own. At least seventy people, men, women, and children, crammed into the farm house. You couldn't move from one room to the next, the crowd had to take you, like a float in the waves.
Matty and Guy had locked themselves in Guy's bedroom. Guy cried. It was the first time he had since he found his Dad. He cried with Matty at his side. Matty just hugged his friend. Matty said nothing, he waited until Guy was ready.
Miss Lil sat in the living room, bourbon in hand and cigarette in mouth. Her green eyes had been made up with bright blue eye shadow. Her red hair was like straw from the hair spray. Quite frankly, she looked like hell. She sat on the sofa; next to her was Doc Harrington.
"Massive stroke, Miss Lil, he never felt a thing," Doc said to her.
"Best thing that happened," Miss Lil retorted.
"I beg your pardon, Ma'm," Doc said, as he looked at her inquisitively.
"We needed the damn insurance money," Miss Lil stated with as much emotion as if she said 'change the television channel'.
Doc Harrington made a mental note to himself. He had long worried about Miss Lil. That wasn't quite correct. He had worried about the children. Too often the Sugardale kids had been brought by his country office with a malady of broken bones and other unexplained injuries. He had witnessed Miss Lil inebriated at all hours of the day. He was very concerned. He stood to leave. He was going to see Judge Walters. It couldn't wait, this women was ill.
Doc Harrington left the house. He got into his car and started down the drive. His mind was on the task at hand. He wasn't paying attention. He was just driving.
Matty and Guy sat in the bedroom. Guy had settled down. Matty said, "I am so sorry, Guy." He looked Guy right in the eyes and reached his right hand up to wipe away the last tear on Guy's face.
"Thank you, Matty," Guy said, as he looked into his friend's eyes. He wanted to do something but didn't know what it was he wanted to do. His heart began to beat a little faster.
"Oh God, Guy. What are you going to do? You're going to be here alone with the bitch woman from hell, and the others. Poor Gregory," Matty said to his best friend. He sat there on the bed with Guy and just stared off into space.
"I don't know, I just don't know," Guy said, and began crying again.
Doc Harrington didn't see the stop sign, he never saw the other car coming. Both vehicles collided at the intersection. Doc Harrington never made it to Judge Walters, he died right there, instantly. It was a horrible wreck.
That's enough tragedy for one chapter. I leave you all with this: life is bittersweet. Death is real; in the blink of an eye we are taken to our eternal rest. Live your life to its fullest. Live with no regrets. Well, let me know what you think. This is a change from my other work. This story will be very different. It is fiction, but it is based on truth. If you care to e-mail me, here's my address: Justin69SK@aol.com