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In the Shadows of Our Lives -- Prologue -- Spirit of the Underdog VII
Into my junior year, or Grade 11, life really started to change for me. The first change was getting taken off the starting line for the third game of the football season. All after finally making Varsity, and despite keeping up with practices through the summer! I guess being a small running back had worked for me before, but in game situations my legs just weren't fast enough to compensate for the longer strides of the bigger guys anymore. In the first two games I was always at the right place just a fraction too late. In the third game my frustration became apparent. Mom and Arnie were both there for that game when I got pulled, as well as Jon with Neil, Tania and Tim. I couldn't help it; I cried a lot that night when I was alone in bed. I was really bummed about that.
Mom was all like `good, more time to study and chase skirts.'
What an unsupportive bitch she was to me at times, not that I hadn't learned that that was sometimes the best I could expect from her since Dad had screwed our lives over. It was just misdirected anger at her situation and I often felt the same way. In trying to overcompensate she could really hit a nerve sometimes. But other than Jon, football was my only true passion in life and she seemed clueless to how much it meant to me.
Arnie was the one who was actually really sympathetic to me while Mom just crowed. He tried to help me find a new interest, somewhat halfheartedly, but still it was more than my mom cared to do. He took me to a few Houston Astro's games before the season ended and bought me a new ball glove so that I could play with Tim, Neil and the guys that played baseball. I knew the sport, how to play and hit, I just didn't care for it like football. The baseball distraction actually intensified my focus on football. Eventually Arnie just told me that if I want it bad enough Coach wasn't going to be able to ignore me forever.
By Hallowe'en Coach had taken me out of games completely and only had me practicing. I guess he didn't have the heart to fully rip mine out and take football completely away from me. Everyone said for me to stick with it, when I grow some more I'll kick butt and all that good stuff. You know humor the little guy, right?
One day right before Thanksgiving weekend I was back in game action and got accidentally clipped by one of our linemen while running a play. The hit wasn't hard, but I got twisted and fell the wrong way. I don't like the term `fell the wrong way' though. Like how can you fall the right way when an overgrown ogre armed with shoulder pads and acne is hell-bent on forcing you to the ground and your own teammate inadvertently helps?
From the collision I broke my fibula which is one of two bones in the calf, and I was in the hospital for two days because I also got a concussion. I was so out of it at first they wanted to do all sorts of tests and stuff on me. As for my leg I was told that my bones were still soft like all kids are before they hit their teenage years, and I would have to be a lot more careful. I got this real dopey cast from knee to toes like you see on silly skiing accident or car insurance commercials. Jon visited me both days and ran into Tim on the second day. Neil and Tania didn't come with Tim. Half the football team or more visited and gave me a football they all signed. Even with that my friend Michael didn't pay a visit or sign the ball. I didn't dwell in it at the time though as I wasn't really lucid just then anyway.
All through this Jon helped me out at school as well as Neil and Tim, carrying my books for me and stuff. Michael on the other hand started treating me like I had the plague or something. The worst part for me though was that I had to switch out of gym class to a stupid computer class instead for the remainder of that semester.
The first night home from the hospital Jon stayed over because I was convincingly whiney enough. I think Mom might have been catching on to the idea that Jon and I were lovers. But I told her I needed someone's help and I for sure wasn't having her assist me with a bath or shower. Arnie was all for the idea too because he said that he was through wiping kid's asses for them the day Todd was potty trained.
Five weeks later when my leg was almost healed and I had a soft cast on I lost my balance going down stairs at school, falling down the last 3 or 4 before jarring my leg on the landing. That time around I got a hairline fracture on my tibia, which is the other bone in the same calf. In addition to the fracture high on the bone I completely dislocated my patella, also known as the kneecap, which may have already been softened up from the first accident. More superficially, I strained my wrist and deeply bruised my forearm. I did have an operation on my knee to get the patella put back into place. I spent part of the week before Christmas holidays in the hospital.
Of course with my injured leg Jon has become a horny top, and I have discovered that I am a bottom! Jon ended up staying over a lot. On two of those nights we very quickly and quietly had sex after I had a shower. The actual sex was sort of your get in, get it on, get off, and get out 5 minute sessions. Even then it was when we were absolutely certain that we would not get caught, even though the door was locked to my room and no one else was home! Although at first I didn't want or like Jon's man-meat in me I got used to it easily and actually longed for the next time when he would fill me with his dick, for the closeness it made me feel to him.
And yet I have to say though that the first time I bottomed was magic. I really can't say why, but it had been a while obviously since we had built up the courage to have sex our first and only other time. I was belly down on my bed after shucking my shorts and soft cast from the first injury and Jon started to massage my leg for me. His hand moved up steadily until his fingers were caressing my butt cheeks more than anything and his fingers kept slipping into the crack of my butt. Next thing I knew he was prodding my bud and his finger slipped in so easily, despite how tense I think I was.
It felt kinda good, kinda bad. My dick standing at attention, I told him I better have my shower before anyone got home. Mom was working 4 until midnight shifts that week, but Arnie didn't keep to any predictable schedule in any area of his life. We had a quick shower together, with Jon spending most of the time and his attention on my butt. After toweling dry and returning to my room he asked if he could love me and I said what the hell.
Actually, I acknowledged that I'd love for him to make love to me.
He laid me down on my bed and pushed my legs towards my chest. I wrapped my arms around them and he went to work fingering me again and alternately jacking me off while licking my balls and then sucking my dick. On my back, staring at the ceiling I saw stars! A few times he ventured his tongue down to my bud, spending a little more time there each pass. I felt strange having him do that to me, almost embarrassed maybe. Soon he had one finger there and penetrated my body with it. Then 2 fingers invaded me. That I will say felt all good; no real shame or pain whatsoever, only pleasure. After struggling to get a condom on his beautiful appendage he lubed me up really good and gently slid his rod just past its head into me in one thrust and then stopped.
OH MAN! At first I thought the pain was going to split me apart! He stayed in me though, motionless as I waited for the pain to subside. It didn't at first until I started wiggling. I didn't want to chicken out on him, I didn't want to offend or hurt him, or make him not want me.
Lying, I encouraged him, "Oh Jon. You feel so good. Hurry up and get all the way inside me. I want you so badly."
What I really wanted was to pleasure him and get it over with as soon as possible. Once given the green light his shoulders rolled my legs further towards me, my knees practically on either side of my head as he bottomed out in me and his dick hit my g.
Sweetly he checked, "Are you O.K.? Do you want me to stop?"
Yes, stop! Oh please, stop you evil sodomite! Lube or no, your angry dick is tearing my small hole apart! That's what I was thinking, but instead I offered him affirmation, "Oh Jon. I love you so much. I want you so badly. You feel so amazing. Please Jon, love me."
Hitting my g' did sorta counter the splitting pain, and once Jon started pumping to my surprise I actually was like man, this feels pretty good' for a while. He lasted a long time, at least a lot longer than I had inside him. He was at least 5 minutes inside me to the point that I was starting to get really uncomfortable again when he finally sucked in a lot of air, pushed forcefully forward and then grunted in ecstasy as his body shuddered and he released himself in me. Moments later I was cumming with Jon still inside me.
To be fully honest though, it never felt great that time, or even the next. But I never said so, and fully intended to continue to bottom Jon because I didn't want to upset or offend him. I loved him and wanted him so bad. This sorta confused the younger version of me a lot, but I reasoned that Jon was what my heart desired and I was willing to sacrifice for him.
He stayed inside me and played his fingers along my choda, between my balls and bud, giving me intense pleasure while I finished myself off. When he wasn't moving inside me, just there, I actually liked the feeling when all the pain had subsided.
Like I said it was a five minute slam-bam-thank-you-man between his entering me and my getting off. The highlight was probably afterward when he entered me again and we had a good make out session, once we both came down from our orgasms. It sure wasn't hot steamy sex. It was pretty un-coordinated. On the other hand it was the extraordinary solidification of every feeling we had and the last way to express it to each other. We kissed for as long as we dared before he pulled out and wiped me down. I put my Joe Boxer pajama pants on and he put his Haynes on and opened the door and crashed in Todd's bed.
Yeah, that was another thing, since the pot party at the beginning of the summer I wasn't allowed to have my door closed when I went to bed, and not at all when Jon was over. But really, who was my mom kidding with that; with her working noon to eight or four to midnight, two out of every three weeks I was home alone more than not anyhow. Somewhere between Thanksgiving and Christmas that rule was loosely forgotten. Some nights Mom probably didn't even know whether Jon was over or not.
Getting back to the night I bottomed for the first time; that night Jon and I shared the remaining vestiges of our innocence with each other and only each other. So I say that first time was magic because that was it. We had given each other everything we have to offer emotionally, spiritually and now physically. In every way except self sex, we had now completely and exclusively given each other the full extent of our own virginities. We had almost decided to forgo condoms because before each other we were both total virgins and without them it was easier for us to hide our sex, but we used them anyhow.
Don't get me wrong here; we sure didn't fuck like bunnies. Between my two hospital visits Jon and I only got around to having full blown sex for the second time. Try planning an opportunity to get some sweet ass with the likelihood of Arnie and Mom around home or with Jon's mom and his sisters at his place. In fact we only ever managed to do it a whopping total of three times! Yeah, you gotta be careful.
Jon had bought me another Timon when I was in the hospital at Christmas time and Mom let me keep that one. That's probably because I never let her see him! But a few nights Jon and I actually chanced sleeping together instead for a while rather than with the stuffed animals we'd exchanged. We'd set his watch alarm so that he could get back to Todd's bed before Mom or Arnie got up.
Anyhow, the day I got out of the hospital the second time Arnie got Jon and I both puppies from one of his mechanic that was having a hard time getting rid of them. I guess the guy was a breeder, and had a registered Rottweiler that got knocked up by an unregistered one and the guy couldn't sell then for any good money. I named my boy Rocky and Jon named his boy Bandit.
Try training a big-ass dog on crutches and with a wrist brace! Stop, sit, heal...yeah right you and what army are gonna make me? How about YOU sit, broken boy???? And Rex being around didn't help me any. He was fully trained, but a huge distraction for Rocky. So Arnie mostly trained Rocky and had me help so that he would listen to my voice too. Mom didn't like Rocky at all, but I think Arnie really did. Heck, he even helped Jon with Bandit. Mom however was pissed with Arnie and swore that I had to get rid of Rocky, but he shot her down. That was the only time I ever heard Mom and Arnie argue about me. Their argument will always stick with me.
Arnie matter-of-factly told Mom, "Beth, your boy sure as hell ain't no sissy. Who knows, he may end up a fruit loop. I'm not sure yet. But I'm telling you, fruit loop or not. If he's stuck being a little guy? He better at least have a big dog with a big bite, or a bigger gun."
Hell, I'd have gone for both, especially the bigger gun seeing as how they are commonplace in Houston. Mom on the other hand reluctantly settled for Rocky. What my mom had to say about me has festered over the years and has driven a wedge between us that I don't care to relate. Not that most of what Arnie said was any better.
I guess what tipped them off is that one thing everyone noticed about me as I'd grown some is that my voice hadn't deepened a whole lot. At least my friends thought that it was just that I was severely behind in developing. Tim was really cool with me and stopped Neil from making fun of it if he happened to choose to get on my case. Train still treated me like I was his favourite little brotha from a white motha too, so if you messed with me you messed with him. Still, despite that threat some people even came right out and told me to my face that I sound kinda faggy.
Put that with the fact that I was like almost hairless and to this very day still have the delicate gay boy look to me and straight people just assume more often than not that I'm a homo behind my back. I mean sure, of course I am, but how do they know for sure? Back then there wasn't a telltale sign that I can think of. Like, were they there anytime Jon and I did anything remotely sexual or boyfriend-esque? Ixnay, it never happened. There's only ever was one slip up between Jon and I, we are so careful because we were so afraid, and we get scared so many times that we didn't often even do anything anyhow. So just because I have long eyelashes, perfect eyebrows and defined cheek bones I supposedly look gay? At least I don't have a noticeable adam's apple.
As for that slip up? At school one day near the end of January Jon was helping me and we accidentally held hands in the hallway. Not like holding my boyfriends hands kinda holding hands, it was like he was handing me something and our fingers accidentally momentarily entwined. Just a bout of being un-coordinated. But we all know what high school rumors and kids are like! Poof, just like that because one girl saw the slip and had a big mouth we were pointed out as fags by like everyone, even minor niners. Damn I wanted to Nancy Kerrigan that stupid cow!
Even so, that talk died down quickly because people didn't really think it of us, it was high school after all and they just needed some hot gossip. Soon enough something juicier came along. Plus Debbie Van De Berg wasn't exactly liked so people knew that she could have made the whole thing up too. That, and unlike me, Jon didn't look or sound gay at all.
As for me, to this day, yeah I think that people put my soft voice with my small size and angular looks and think I am delicate. Being delicate is as good as being a fag in most people's minds. Still, I'd tell them what about Mike Tyson, my voice is deeper than that guys! Then they'd say stuff like `well look at him, he's the toughest guy in the world'. I then would flex and say I'll be him someday. Like c'mon, I had pecks, I had abs, I had decent tennis balls for biceps. Not all that impressive you might say, but in proportion to my body I was seriously built, and if I didn't look like a pretty boy in the face and was taller people would still think I'm built.
The only people that for sure knew I'm gay were Todd and Coach, and both were real cool to me, not jerks. I did get picked on because of my size, but because I was so close friends with a lot of the football guys I just had to tell Train and he'd just stare at the person for me and they totally back off.
Maybe I haven't filled you in on Train. Train is huge and even then was built just like the NFL linemen. In school no one messed with him because he was way tougher off the football field than on, and he was getting mad-scouted by big name colleges so it tells you he's good on the field. Man, Train was at least 6'4" and I was like at eye level with the nipples on his pecks. He was totally plated with muscles, like the wrestler Scott Steiner, or maybe Brock Lessner, and with abs too! But he was cool too, he liked me for my determination and even though we all knew I was just too small to play ball he didn't forget about me. Of course the other thing about him that gave him stature was that owned guns and word was that he both knew how to use them and wasn't afraid to.
Man oh man, I thought that my life was gonna be over on that day when Jon and I slipped up. Instead when the crap started about Jon and I being fags Train helped me out and was like spreading some bogus story about some chick he caught us tag-team banging at a party. He even started my locker room nick-name "Half Way", because nearing 17 years of age I once bragged that I was still so short that it sometimes looked like my boner reached like half way up my torso! When I sat it seriously did pass my belly button and reach part way between that and my nipples! It was in the average length as far as penises go, but I sure wasn't in the average height as far as boys go. Such is life under 5 feet.
And so the only thing Train didn't know, or at least I think he didn't know, was that at that Hollowe'en party that he cited, he was too drunk to realize that the "girl" Jon and I were banging wasn't anywhere to be seen! Or maybe he was just being a friend and protecting me anyhow. Not that Jon and I were having sex at that party though or even glancing at each other like we wanted to; we weren't near stupid enough to ever try that!
The party was at Tania's. Tania and I went back to grade 2 so we were really pretty close back then. As a result of our friendship I could always bring who I wanted to her parties. Jon and I just passed out on the same bed like we'd done before. Michael was there too, on a throw rug on the floor because the bed was too small for three passed out guys. And hell no, there was no girl in the room with us that we were double teaming on like Train thought or said, and the only reason he even got to see my dick that night was because I had passed out and Michael thought it would be funny to take my clothes all off me and hide them in a freezer.
You know, Trick or Treat? I got the trick and anyone who got to laugh at my predicament got the treat. Stupid straight boys and their need to humiliate each other! I guess what Train saw was my exposed morning wood or my drunk dick. [Yeah, I got bad boners when I drank a lot. Teenage hormones find a way to defy a lot of things.]
So long story short, Train shut people up for me about the gay stuff and Jon and I holding hands saying that even if it were true that we held hands momentarily it'd be because I lost my balance or something. No one bothered to argue him. Part of me wanted him to say who cares if we were gay; they still had to deal with him if they had a problem. The wiser part of me didn't really hope that he'd imply that I was gay, especially not knowing how even he'd react. As my first and last line of physical defense I needed him fully on my side. Still my mind played out different scenarios, especially the one Jon suggested, that Train was probably a closet case just like us.
The bigger rumor that caught on through the locker room was that my dick was huge. After Train said something I noticed on the rare occasion when I'd go to work out that the guys in the locker room would steal a glance, either for themselves or because girls begged them to find out. Not ego here, I know based on published studies that it's average, but on my body it sure looks impressive enough to me. So the word was getting around and I guess little me became a quiet measuring stick, so to say. I could definitely handle people talking about that, but of course it came with the jeers that I still look like a 12 year old kid too. I guess you take the good with the bad.
While in casts I had a huge and somewhat painful growth spurt during all of it reached 4' 10", one inch shorter than my final height. It wasn't until Valentine's Day that I was close to fully healed. That was the end of the line for Jon and me.
Looking back on that time, I realize that without football in my life 5 nights a week I was going crazy. At first I couldn't even go to the gym. With casts and too many broken bones that really wasn't in the cards all that often. I just went to school and went home. Jon couldn't devote his whole life to me as he had school, two jobs and home to balance on top of me. Neil and Tim became my refuge and I started spending more time with them than I had since grade 9. I guess I haven't mentioned them all that much because mostly everything I've shared with you was behind their backs. Still, they had been my friends since early grade 9; they just don't really have much to do with this story, much like the time Jon spent with his best friend Michael.
I will say though that Michael on the other hand became a jerk to me because I didn't play football anymore, and he therefore didn't have the time for me. He also bought into the whole gay rumors drama and called me a fag behind my back I had heard. I mean sure, sometimes I got tired of playing my Nintendo 64 or Tim's Playstation with him, or listening to Neil's messed up theories on pretty much everything in the universe, but they showed me that they were real friends. Neil just winked at me with a sure-sure smile on his face when I said I wasn't gay, while I'm certain Tim at least took me for my word and seemed totally ambivalent as to what the big deal about other people's sexuality was all about anyway. Basically they were not superficial asses like Michael.
Now for those wondering, the third and last time that Jon and I had sex was on New Year's Day 2000. It was sometime fairly early in the morning. Mom and Arnie hadn't made it home yet from wherever it was that they were. Their absence that morning afforded us our last time of unchecked passion together. Jon and I were at the festivities at City Hall with a decent sized group from our school. Neil and Tania were there as well as Tim with his soon to be ex-girlfriend Jenna Scott. Jon and I floated between them and Michael, Train and my football brothers.
After celebrating the start of Y2K we were on our way back to my place. Once there, we made out for a bit and then went to bed. I woke that morning with Jon in my bed, lovingly caressing me. After ascertaining that we were alone we threw caution to the wind as much as we dared. We made out as we had earlier, and did a little oral on each other which got us both excited. Unaware of the euphoria of things like necking, but being introduced to it for the very first time by Jon, I was still quite mechanical. Eventually Jon was in me, loving me and we welcomed in the new millennium that morning with our own fireworks.
From that point on life got very quiet, very routine for a while. On the Friday just after Valentine's Day Tania and her sister threw another party because their parents were letting them. You see, because my friends belonged to two different social groups normally I would either go with Neil and Tim, or with Michael, Train and Jon. For some reason this was more of the baseball' crowd party than the football' party, which went against the norm for the Crosby sisters.
Normally I would have gone with Jon, Michael and Train, or just with Jon, or even by myself. Seeing as Tim and Neil were going to be there anyway, Jon and I arrived with them instead. This pissed Michael off bad because he liked Tania and I think the only reason I personally was any use to him anymore was because even though he'd known her just as long as me I was one of her few guy friends and thereby his link to her. Michael was so rude to Neil and Tim, and he tried to pick a fight with Neil, but Tim being bigger stepped in for Neil.
I never really thought of Tim as tough. He was just Tim to me. By looks he's your stereotypical Abercrombie and Fitch model, and by nature he's the most sedate, mellow, easy going guy I've ever known. Being a baseball player with good looks and a body that showed that he worked out I guess I misjudged him as all show no substance. Yet I was still blown away that he kicked Michael's ass! It was pretty quick; Tim only took a single punch to the face as he got a couple in on Michael. He threw a couple at Michael's face, and when Michael was recoiling he threw a hard one at Michael's sternum. As Michael doubled over Tim kneed Michael in the face and then got behind him and buckled him by kicking Michael in the back of the knee.
Afterward Michael left and then came back with a bat. It was so silly, so out of a movie. What was funnier was that he came after me with the bat.
"You little faggot! You used to be my best friend, and now you take my best friend Jon from me because you want to get at me? You want to suck his dick so bad that it shows, and you bring your faggot friends to this party to insult me because Tania likes one of them? Look at him, he's a shot hairy mutt, and a fag just like you. She likes a fag when she can have me? And you Rice; you're a worthless piece of shit who sucks so bad that Coach even dumped you from the team finally. Hopefully you sucked dick as good as you sucked at life!"
And with that he came at me with the bat. I managed to avoid his swing, but I cracked my head against the doorway as I was trying to run past him out of the room I was cornered in. Just like that I was knocked out from my own doing while trying to avoid getting beaten with a bat. Apparently that was the only swing Michael got at me before Train was on him and punched his face in. Almost literally too, Train broke Michael's nose and cheek bone.
When I came around there were police and ambulance people all over the place. I heard that it only took the one punch in the face from Train and Michael was knocked out too! A lot of us got questioned by the police, and Michael, Train, and Tim got taken to the cop shop. I never found out if anyone pressed charges or anything though. Instead I got a trip to the hospital, with my second concussion. Ironically, handcuffed to a bed on the other side of the curtain from me in the examination room at the hospital was Michael, being tended to before he got taken to the police station.
When Arnie got to the hospital to pick me up he had a good sized piece of metal sticking out of his back pocket and some of his buds with him. Not being the most upstanding of citizens, he was on a first name basis with one of the cops standing guard in emergency, and got me in exchange for his pipe or whatever he had. With me in tow, he flashed a blade and threatened Michael's dad that he would fuck with him soon, but I gather he never did. I hear he pressured Coach Maynes to give Michael a real hard go of it at practices and not play him in games until he quit.
The night of the Valentine's fight, Arnie got his buds to round up Jon and Neil and bring them over to our place so that he could find out what the hell was going on. After the guys all left and it was just the four of us Arnie got pretty blunt. In front of Jon and Neil he called me a faggot and told me not to be mad at Michael for coming after me but instead thank him that we learned a good lesson about what happens to fags.
He told me that he had talked to his and Dad's oldest brother Jimmy who lives in St. Louis. They and my mother had talked before about getting me somewhere where I didn't have to try so hard to be what I'm not. He figured I best say goodbye to my friends right then as I was surely going to be moving to Missouri, and then promptly told Neil and Jon to get going.
That was it; there was no room for discussion. The fight was on a Friday night, and come Sunday night I was a resident of St. Louis, Misery, U.S.A. I had less than 24 hours to pack my life before it got loaded into the bed of Arnie's Ford 4x4 and I was on my way. I never got a chance to say goodbye to anyone, let alone spend a moment with Jon. Yes I had a concussion, but it still would have been a whirlwind blur anyhow, it all happened so abruptly.
When I got to St. Louis, Jimmy was nothing like I expected. He is unlike Dad, Arnie and Sonny. He's from a completely better stock than his brothers. Jimmy doesn't even like to be called Jimmy. He professionally goes by James, and has an amazing house, wife, 3 kids I never knew, and is clean cut. He had a professional looking, short, neatly cropped businessman haircut. He still is a chiropractor and is respected in his community for his positions on the city council, Ronald McDonald House Charity Board, and Big Brother's council as well as his other numerous community involvements.
Uncle James was unlike anything I had really known growing up, because I always saw respect given to the guys that you didn't want to mess with physically or financially. Of course I hated it immediately. What the hell, I used to live by my own rules and did quite well I thought, and all of a sudden I got some structured, sappy family environment I've never known forced down my throat? Writing this was about the only productive thing I accomplished living there.
[Note to the reader : The following is the ending as it was mostly intended for SotU before I decided to revise it and fold it into the larger story titled In the Shadows of Our Lives. Major spoilers have been removed.]
Flash forward to today.
Well lets just say that Uncle James didn't suffer fools lightly. After a couple months of my acting out and being an all around little brat he forced me into the Air Cadets. Not having any direction or discipline in my life started losing its hold on me and I excelled in the structured environment. On my 18th birthday I joined the Armed Forces. My stature limited me in some ways, but eventually I got my wings and served over seas flying supply aircrafts until I fell out of a cargo plane and busted my knee up real good again. After surgery and my honorable discharge I took 6 months to travel the world and find myself, loosely modeling it after the movie The Beach. My adventures were quite sedate and different however.
Returning home a little more than a year ago I wasn't sure at first where I fit back in into society. I was more or less homeless until Uncle James extended the offer to me of a home and to help get me on my feet again. He hasn't talked much with Mom or Arnie since I got pawned onto him over nine years ago. Banking on my experience in the service, I landed a job piloting for a national courier, based out of Memphis.
A few months ago I used some days off to visit Houston for the first time. I didn't stop by Arnie's shop, Sonny's restaurant, or Mom and Arnie's. Instead I went to Charlene's renovated house to get caught up on Jon.
Charlene herself is nearing retirement and is finally for the first time financially secure as she re-married. She only works one job now, as Front End Manager/Head Cashier at the Walmart Super Centre, and dropped her other job at the liquor store.
I guess Coach always had a soft spot for Jon and I, and that spurred on a lot of change for him. He now rents his house out to students that have problem homes. He actually moved up to Principal, and then to School Board Superintendant and along the way developed an official housing program for troubled teens.
Bandit apparently had a good, but short life.
Train managed to turn pro and went to a few camps but never made it. He's now a shop assistant at my old school, Parkwood, and coach for the football team.
Michael works for a fast food restaurant, still waiting for his life to take off.
Neil and Tania got married in Vegas right after graduation. They had two daughters before separating, only to get together and split up again. Tania and her girls live in San Antonio now. Neil is in prison for aggravated assault, kidnapping and attempted murder charges.
Tim is happily married and has a son and daughter.
I don't know what happened to Todd. He's not in the phonebook, and Coach Maynes never heard from or of him after he graduated.
As for my mom and Arnie, they're also married now. I never got invited, or even knew until that visit. First I heard was through Coach. Uncle James didn't even know.
I guess my dad should have been out of the slammer now too. Only he got into more trouble when he was doing his time Uncle James says. I don't care though. I almost hope he got raped daily by a huge guy named Butch or Tiny or something. That would be irony. If I ever see him again it will be purely by his efforts or chance. Let's face it, I hardly remember him now. I know what it was like for Jon to not have a father. I doubt my dad even gives a shit about me so it more likely would be a meeting by chance and not by his efforts. I've had to deal with my demons, and became more than he could have let me be.
As for Jon, Coach and Charlene both say he silently pined away for me when I got ripped out of his life. He moped around for a while after I left and finally came out to her and his sisters. He went on to university and made it out on top despite some setbacks. He did get over me though. He's had a hard life for someone so young, but he's happy now and doing well. I guess I was a bit player in the grand scheme of his life.
Oh Jon, how I loved you.
I knew Jon would get by, I knew he'd be alright. He had a way of just rolling with the punches and getting back up. Sure it may hurt him more than he'll ever let anyone know, but he'll forever put on a brave face for all to see. I may be the little guy and always have to fight for my status, but Jon's where I got my inspiration. I always thought he had the spirit of the underdog.
For my part I still carry a flame for him after all these years. I could have written. I could have called. I should have written. I should have called. Instead I once wrote a cowardly email at Christmas time and left him with a broken heart based on the Christmas card I got back. But mine got broken that day too, back on Valentine's Day in 2000! While this hurts me to write, I am happy that he's happy now. We've talked a little since I recently got his number. It's funny how cliche it is, but thoughts of Jon are what kept me going a lot of the time. I guess time changes things though, and I have had to get my life on track with Jon as just a fond memory from my past.
As for me, after playing it `straight' throughout my entire time in St. Louis and in the service there is a guy in my life now. He's a little guy, 4'11", handsome, with a great body and gentle features. He has very recently landed a great job; now flying for a major national airline based out of Los Angeles and has just relocated there this year. More important, he's found himself, he's confident and happy in who he is. I've actually known him for some time now, yet it's funny, he was a stranger for so long that I didn't recognize him at first. That someone is me!
And still, no matter the distance, no matter the time, I'm just a phone call away.
Like the Bon Jovi song Blood On Blood:
"Through the years and miles between us It's been a long and lonely ride But if I got that call in the dead of night I'd be right by your side."
I still love you Jon,
Your Timon.
[end of Prologue]
up next: On Broken Wings