Incognito

Incognito ©2020

By David Lee

The odor of chicken guts filled the air, but it didn't dampen Raymo's spirits. The dust mask he was wearing had a drop of Luis's aftershave in it to dispel the prevailing stench. It also hid a good part of his face, making him harder to identify.

Working in a poultry processing plant was about as nasty a job as Raymo could imagine, but it was his safe place at the moment. Here, many people probably assumed he was an undocumented worker and wouldn't connect him with the boy who had gone missing recently in a town about a hundred miles away.

"Raymo" was actually Raymond (Ray) Ambrossi Chandler, but by using this nickname, which he thought sounded more Latino, and giving his middle name as his surname when he'd introduced himself to his coworkers, he felt he could get away with the ruse for as long as he needed to. After all, some Latinos did use their mothers' maiden names, and Ambrossi was her birth-name as well as his second name. His employer hadn't questioned his preference since he'd provided a social security number.

His disguise included dying his hair black and saving off the goatee he'd been growing since the end of wrestling season. His pubes were dark enough that he didn't have to tint them in the unlikely event someone would see him nude.

With secondhand clothing, and a broken-English accent to complete the picture, Raymo might not have been recognized by his own mother.

Raymond, as his mother preferred to call him, had inherited the best features of both parents in a fusion which was decidedly sexy. His father, descended from an old New England family, had a tall, trim build; and his Latina mother, whose parents had emigrated from Guatemala, had fine bones and slightly bronze skin-tone. These elements blended very nicely in their two sons, Raymond and Gavin.

Ray's own good looks were both a blessing and a curse. It was part of what had made him popular at school, but it was also what had attracted the attention of the pervert who was soon to become his stepfather.

Sabrina Ambrossi Chandler had been widowed at the age of 40. Not only was she still a very good-looking woman, but she had been left financially secure from her late husband's high-paying job, and the large amount of life insurance he'd carried.

Alan Chandler had been diagnosed with stage-four pancreatic cancer in his 40's. By the time it was discovered, there wasn't anything medical science could do for him. His illness hadn't lasted long enough to deplete his fortune, but it had given him sufficient time to set up his estate in a way that some opportunist wouldn't be able to cheat his wife out of it. He'd also created trust funds for his boys so they'd be independently protected.

An interloper in the form of Robert Barker was waiting in the wings to come into Sabrina's life as soon as a proper time of mourning had passed. He was a smooth operator. He not only viewed her as a trophy wife; he was very attracted to her older son.

Robert had been attempting to "groom" Ray for a fairly long time -- even before Alan had died. He did it rather artfully, so no one guessed his true intentions.

As a prominent local businessman, widowed with adult children of his own, he could appear to be an ardent fan of various high school sports without raising any eyebrows. Wrestling became his major focus primarily because of how the young studs looked in their singlets. It was a way for him to secretly fantasize while masquerading as someone who promoted youth activities.

Raymond's body had caught Robert's attention at the boy's first match as a freshman. Robert made sure to congratulate him for his win, shaking his hand and asking permission to take a photo of him to hang in his office along with other successful athletes. Naturally, Raymond was flattered.

In the beginning, his interest seemed to be normal, but by the end of the season, it felt creepy to the teen. Robert's touch had grown increasingly intimate. When Ray searched the `net, he found that those pats on his butt and the arm around his waist could be signs that the older man's motives were less than pure. From then on, he became more cautious and he avoided Robert as much as possible. That wasn't always easy, and it would become increasingly difficult after his father, Alan, died.

In his heart, Raymond knew he would have welcomed that kind of attention had it come from another guy his own age. He'd already made peace with his orientation, but he didn't appreciate unwanted advances from a middle-aged man.

When Robert began to date Sabrina, Ray felt trapped! He didn't know how to tell his mother that the man she was seeing likely had intentions toward her son which were less than honorable. How could he broach the subject without alienating her? Finally, he screwed up his courage after a recent incident in which Robert's hands cupped his butt during a congratulatory hug after he'd pinned his opponent in a decisive match.

"Mom, I gotta tell you Robert gives me the creeps. He's too touchy-feely! I'm not sure how I could live under the same roof if you decided to marry him. I guess I could move out when I turn 18."

"Oh, Raymond, give him a chance. He's trying to be a father figure to you since Dad died."

"My father wouldn't touch me like he does. I don't need a father figure and it feels more like he'd rather be my lover!"

"Raymond! How can you say such a thing? He's a respected man, with boys of his own! I think you're jealous because he's taking some of my attention away from you. Don't worry, I have enough love for you and Gavin as well. It won't be the same as it would if your father were alive, but we can still become a happy family again. Please don't make waves."

Raymond decided that his mother had been blinded by infatuation and he'd have to pursue another route. Knowing that school personnel were mandatory reporters, he confided in his coach.

"I'll admit Mr. Barker tends to be openly demonstrative, but I think he'd hide it if he were perving on boys," Coach Keefer said. "However, since you're concerned, I'll pass it along to Dr. Manson. If he feels it has merit, he'll contact the authorities."

"Thanks, Coach! I feel better."

Raymond's fears were eventually shared with the police, and Chief Warren called him in to speak confidentially.

"You realize this is a serious charge you're making. Robert Barker is a friend of mine and a highly respected member of the community. I'm not accusing you of lying, but there would have to be proof that his actions are out of bounds before I could even interview him over such an accusation."

"That means he'd have to rape me and I'd have to have evidence of his sperm in my butt or the police would do nothing!" Raymond exclaimed in frustration.

"I wouldn't put it that graphically, but, yes, there would have to be evidence of a crime."

"Sorry, I wasted your time," the teen mumbled on his way out.

Ray felt he'd explored all of his options, but he wasn't about to lie down and take it. Even before Robert proposed to his mother, the teen began to form a rather complicated plan. It might not work for long; it might not work at all. However, he had to do something to escape the clutches of the man who seemed destined to become his stepfather, and, if he did it right, he could possibly cast suspicion on the man at the same time. At least it would give him breathing space to perhaps come up with a lasting solution. He would be 18 in the fall, and he could live away from home. Of course, that might leave his younger brother at risk.

He began his plan by squirreling away the money he'd saved from his birthday and Christmas gifts, as well as withdrawing small sums of money from his bank account. He was careful not to take out too much at once, fearing it would raise a red flag. By the time he was through, he'd accumulated around $1,000 which should help him live for a few months if he could find even a minimum-wage job on a farm or in a factory to supplement it. He hoped his self-imposed exile wouldn't have to extend beyond the summer because he didn't want to jeopardize his education, but he had to do something to get away.

To change his appearance, he started growing out his hair and beard. The latter was pretty sparse and made him look unkempt. In addition, he purchased some temporary tattoos which he applied to his forearms where his mother could "accidentally" discover them.

Sabrina was upset that he'd "desecrated" his body with what she considered graffiti. Of course, she didn't know they weren't permanent. He was establishing an identification mark that would likely be included in a missing-person's poster. He made sure to have Gavin record his current look and post it on social media.

He did several things to make his approaching disappearance appear suspicious. He "lost" his driver's license and had to get a replacement. That way, he could leave his wallet with a few bucks and his original license in it when he went missing and still have a valid ID when he needed it.

He even purchased a new shaver, so it would look as if he'd vanished with all his personal stuff still in his room.

While he hated to part with his iPhone 11, he knew it would be traceable. So, he paid cash for a Tracfone which he could use while leaving his fancy one at home in his room to make people wonder about his disappearance. After all, what teenager would leave voluntarily without his phone?

Sabrina frequently invited Robert over for dinner so the boys would grow accustomed to him presence. Gavin didn't seem to be upset, but Raymond found the time unbearable.

The tipping point came when Ray discovered his room had been searched. Things were just slightly out of place. He looked in the bottom drawer where he'd hidden a jackknife. It was gone! Hurriedly, he checked the place where he stashed his cache of money. Thankfully, it was still there. Ray now felt he'd have to put his plan into action as soon as possible.

The stars seemed to align for him when Robert was going to be out of town for a short time. His reason for being gone was rather vague, making Raymond suspect he was up to something that he didn't want Sabrina to know about.

Robert departed the day after Gavin left to work most of the summer at scout camp. Raymo had been loath to leave before his brother was in a safe location. He'd warned his sibling about Robert and made him promise to stay a camp no matter what transpired at home.

Ray shaved off his facial hair. He dressed in ragged jeans and had a bandana tied around his head to hide the color of his hair. Sunglasses completed the disguise.

With a used duffle bag that he'd obtained from the Goodwill store packed with worn clothing from the same source, he was ready to make his getaway.

He departed after his mother had retired to her room for the night. It was early in the evening, but she wasn't likely to check on him before she went to sleep. Traveling in the dark would make him less likely to be seen and remembered.

Hitching his first ride with an out-of-state trucker meant that the man might never hear about the disappearance of a local boy. Using broken English, would help make Ray less identifiable if the man were contacted.

His second ride was a Latino couple who were heading for Postville after visiting family in Des Moines. With them, he spoke fluent Spanish. Because of his accent, they assumed he might be someone escaping a harsh life in Central America. They didn't pressure him for any details of his life, knowing that it was always safer not to know too much.

It was rather late when Ray checked into a seedy local motel for the night. The clerk offered him a third free night if he would pay for two in advance. He decided it would be a good investment, since he had no idea where he would be living or how long it might take him to find a job. The place was shabby but reasonably clean, and it had fairly low weekly rates.

Once in his room, he dyed his hair black and scrubbed off the temporary tattoos and turned into "Raymo." He used the trimmer on his shaver to shorten his hair somewhat. The result was amateurish, but that was fine for the unkempt image he was trying to portray.

After a full breakfast in a café on Main Street, Raymo trudged to the poultry processing plant at the edge of town. It wasn't a long walk, and he was intent on saving his money for necessities.

The manager, Joe Bulgarelli, tried to conduct the interview in Spanish, and did surprisingly well. He took an instant liking to the kid in his office and decided to give him a try. The teen gave no references but did have a social security number. Bulgarelli wasn't certain it was legit. However, he'd learned that undocumented workers tended to give their all to the job. Besides, ICE hadn't made any raids in the town for the past couple of years.

Raymo was asked if he could start immediately to see if he worked out. He smiled and agreed to do so. Mr. Bulgarelli found him a uniform which fit reasonably well and gave him an apron, hairnet, and a dust mask. Then, he assigned him to shadow a young man about his own age. The two teens connected immediately.

Luis turned out to be friendly and helpful in getting Raymo acclimated to the job. His family had come to the US as migrant workers years before, and he'd been born at a local hospital. His Spanish was good, as was his English. He used the former to communicate because Raymo continued the pretense of not being fluent in English.

The work was repetitive and didn't require high-level thinking skills. Raymo caught on quickly. By noon, he was already fairly efficient. Naturally, he wasn't as fast as his mentor, but he was likely to catch up by the end of the week. Joe Bulgarelli was pleased when he checked later.

There was a small cafeteria attached to the plant. Raymo purchased an inexpensive "special" and joined Luis who had brought his lunch from home.

Over their meal, Raymo learned several things about his companion. The teen would be a senior in high school in the fall and he was living with shirttail relatives, whom he referred to as "aunt and uncle," since his parents had been deported to Mexico two years earlier. The kid missed his family but was realistic about any chance of being reunited in the near future. He was going to have to make his own way. He was trying to support himself and put a little from his paycheck into an account his parents could access electronically. Times were difficult for them if they didn't want to get involved with the drug trade. That was not only against their ethics, but it could be deadly.

When Luis learned that Raymo was staying in the motel, he came up with a possible alternative for housing.

"Aunt Dolores might let you stay with us. My room has two beds, and I don't mind sharing if it would work okay for you. I'll check with her tonight. I'm sure you could have room and board for about what you'd pay for just a room at the motel. We could be compadres, amigos, hermanos!"

Raymo frowned in thought, as if he didn't comprehend, so Luis repeated the first part of his offer in Spanish. Then Raymo smiled and said, "SI, hermanos!"

At the end of the day, Luis offered a ride back to town in his old car. Raymo was thankful that he didn't have to walk to the motel after being on his feet for hours. He was young, but the day had been taxing.

He ate a greasy meal at the café, showered, and retired early.

The following morning, Raymo began trudging to work when Luis beeped his horn to get his attention. Soon, they were headed to the plant together. Mr. Bulgarelli had decided to let them continue as a team. Since they were the youngest members of his labor force, he thought they might be more productive if they had companionship to boost their morale.

This time, both teens had a sack lunch to eat at noon because Luis had brought extra.

"Aunt Dolores likes the idea of having you room with us and she sent a sample of her food to entice you." he said in Spanish.

Raymo expressed his gratitude, blinking back genuine tears of emotion that her kind act had stimulated.

Gazing into Raymo's eyes, Luis was struck by the fact they were light green. Somehow, he'd assumed they'd be the color of ripe olives. Raymo must not have all Latino genes. Whatever his ancestry, he was beautiful. With the right clothes and hairstyle, he could be as hot as a movie star!

Raymo found Luis to be attractive too. He reminded him of his Uncle Carlos, Sabrina's brother.

Raymo turned down the offer of dinner with Luis's relatives because he didn't want to sponge. From what he'd learned, they weren't exactly flush. However, they were willing to share whatever they had. That really got to him. He would do his best not to take unfair advantage of their hospitality.

He did agree to meet the family after he'd eaten and had a chance to shower and change clothes. He didn't mind appearing poor as long as he was clean.

Luis picked him up so he wouldn't have to walk. The distance was relatively short, but it felt good to ride.

Dolores, Geraldo, her husband, and their children, Jose and Angel all welcomed Raymo as if he were part of their extended clan. He was shown the room he would share with Luis and given a hand-written list of what he'd receive and how much it would cost him. He wouldn't be living there for free, but as Luis had suggested, the entire package was less than his room at the motel and he had kitchen and laundry privileges as well as meals. He was thrilled! He felt almost guilty about accepting it. However, Dolores insisted it was fair to her and that his rent money would supplement her budget.

Raymo was sad to see the evening come to an end when Luis took him back to the motel. They spent a few minutes sitting on Raymo's bed. He felt an urge to invite Luis to stay overnight but resisted the temptation.

Meanwhile back in Marion, the Linn County Sheriff was interviewing people who had last seen Raymond. He particularly concentrated on Richard Barker after discovering the reason Raymo had been avoiding him. Richard twice changed his story about where he'd been at the time Raymond had disappeared. His evasiveness put him at the top of the persons-of-interest list if the boy wasn't found unharmed.

Gavin was contacted, and he told the authorities that his brother had felt uncomfortable in Richard's presence. That stoked the fires of suspicion.

When pressured, Sabrina admitted that Raymond had thought Richard was overly affectionate and had felt uneasy around him.

Coach Keefer's statement reinforced the idea. All those things were supposedly kept under wraps, because no charges had been filed; but in small communities, some "well-kept" secrets make their way into the rumor mill.

People began to speculate.

Raymond's most recent photo, with facial hair and tattoos was soon circulated, just as he'd hoped it would be. Everyone was searching for a teen with brown hair, green eyes, and prominent tatts on his forearms.

Raymo chose not to take advantage of his bonus night at the motel. Being with Luis and a real family trumped saving a few bucks. As they had done before, everyone in the household welcomed Raymo. He was touched.

Dolores had baked a chocolate cake to celebrate his entrance into their extended family. That act of kindness nearly overwhelmed him.

He had showered at the motel, so he didn't have much prep to do for bedtime. Luis and he shared the bathroom as they brushed their teeth. Luis causally emptied his bladder while there, so Raymo did the same. If they were going to be hermanos, there didn't need to be any false modesty between them.

Back in the room, both stripped to their underwear and climbed into their respective beds. They didn't talk long. Working men needed their rest.

Raymo saw the photo of himself with longer, brown hair and tattoos on the front page of a local newspaper in the lunchroom. He was tempted to read the article but was afraid he might give himself away if he appeared too interested. It was Luis who mentioned the disappearance of a teen in a town about a hundred miles away.

In Spanish, he relayed the gist of the story. He said some man was being questioned about the incident. Authorities weren't completely satisfied about the man's explanation of where he was at the time Raymond Chandler disappeared.

"It's scary that he's about our age and has a name similar to yours," Luis said.

Raymo shrugged, hoping Luis wouldn't make the connection. He prayed that Mr. Bulgarelli wouldn't figure it out and turn him in. When no one said anything to him about it for the rest of the day, Raymo felt he could finally stop holding his breath!

The story of the missing teen faded when it didn't make the paper again, and life settled down to a routine. The more time the boys spent together, the more they bonded. Raymo almost wished he could stay right where he was when school started in the fall. He had to finish his education or he wouldn't have a bright future despite his inheritance. The Postville school didn't rank nearly as highly as Linwood. He really should return home at the end of August.

Yet, he was developing a serious crush on his companion.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, the third week of June, Luis had a nightmare involving his parents. In it, they were being tortured by a gang of men who were employed by a drug lord. It was gruesome and so real that he cried out in his sleep.

Raymo shot out of bed to comfort his roommate. He climbed in beside Luis and held him until he calmed down. At times, he slipped out of character, using correct English. His immediate concern for his friend was more important than maintaining his fake identity. It was doubtful that Luis realized the gaffe in his dazed state between dreaming and consciousness.

In the morning, they were still in the same narrow bed. Raymo apologized and blushed as he realized the intimacy of their situation. Luis gave him a hug and thanked him for caring. Raymo's embarrassment gave way to a feeling of warmth.

The guys would soon have a break from work for the 4th of July. It was a paid holiday at the plant. Since it fell on the weekend this year, which they had off already, they would get Friday off with pay. That gave them a three-day vacation.

Luis was eager to go somewhere to celebrate, as long as it didn't involve spending a lot of money. He talked about driving south to Cedar Rapids and staying overnight at Motel 6 or someplace cheap. Raymo was hesitant to go there because the town of Marion flowed right into Cedar Rapids like a suburb. He was afraid someone he knew might recognize him.

Raymo suggested an alternative of going to Wyalusing State Park near Prairie du Chien, WI which was a third of the distance away. They might be able to camp there if they could find a tent.

Uncle Geraldo had an old one that would serve the purpose, and he had some other camping equipment as well, so the guys made plans.

When he was out of earshot, Raymo called the park to reserve a spot in the primitive area. His family had camped there years ago, and he knew it was likely to fill up rapidly during the holiday.

With the tent, a Coleman gas stove, a cooler of food, and a few other utensils, the teens headed off to their adventure after work on Thursday. They got to the park in plenty of time to register, set up, and prepare their supper. The fresh air and peaceful surroundings were exactly what they needed as a respite from their daily grind.

For the first time since they'd met, they showered together in a gang-type facility with no privacy. Naturally, they checked each other out. Both were nicely proportioned and had their foreskins intact. Both of their dicks responded to the visual stimulation. Before things had a chance to escalate beyond that point, someone came into the other part of the restroom causing their ardor to cool. They quickly donned their shorts, sans underwear, to go back to their tent.

Once inside, Raymo took Luis's hand in his and looked into his eyes. There was no missing the caring and desire in them. Slowly, the two boys lay down and held each other. Then they kissed.

"We're more than brothers," Luis sighed. "I care for you, whoever you are."

"I care for you too!" Raymo exclaimed.

"I worry that ICE will come and tear you away from me, like they did my parents."

"That can't happen. I was born here just like you were."

"English is your first language, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Are you the teen who went missing from Marion?"

"I am. Do you hate me for not being truthful with you?"

"NO! I'm sure you have your reasons for hiding your identity."

"I do. I'll probably have to go back when school starts."

"I wish we could be together."

"It could happen."

"I fear when you leave, I'll never see you again.

"Let's not borrow trouble from tomorrow. Let's enjoy tonight."

After that, the guys stopped talking and concentrated on sharing their love for each other.

Awakening in the early morning to the sounds of birds chirping, the boys found themselves snuggled together for warmth. It hadn't gotten especially cold overnight, but the sheet which covered their naked bodies was barely enough by itself.

"When I escaped from my situation at home, I never thought I find someone to love," Raymo said. "It was purely to protect myself from a predator. You're like the puzzle-piece that's been missing in my life."

"You're such a romantic. Do teenagers really talk like that?" Luis teased.

"They do if they've read love stories and find themselves in the middle of one."

"So, like Romeo and Juliet, are we star-crossed lovers with a tragic ending?"

"Nope! I have some ideas. Just bear with me."

Raymo and Luis didn't spend all of their long weekend holed up naked in the tent. They hiked the trails, waded in the Mississippi, and even rented a canoe to explore the area along the western bank of the river. Raymo insisted on paying because he hadn't put a dent in the stash of money that he'd brought with him for the summer, and he knew Luis was watching his pennies.

Yes, they did cuddle skin to skin in the evenings. It was like a honeymoon. Both were innocent in the ways of the flesh, and they explored some of the possibilities together.

They had arrived as buddies on Thursday night; they left as lovers on Sunday afternoon.

In mid-July, Raymo decided to get a decent haircut. He would begin the transition back to being Raymond Chandler. He would leave the uneven color as it was until August. Then, he'd go back to the salon and have the black dye stripped. He might have the ends tipped to blond. Luis thought he'd look even hotter if he did.

At work, he kept on the mandatory hairnet and wore his usual baseball cap or a bandanna so the changes wouldn't be as noticeable.

It was on a Friday morning toward the end of the month that ICE made a raid on the poultry plant. They initially came for Raymo and another guy. However, after a short conversation, they let the other dude go.

Raymo was taken to the local jail where he was questioned by two immigration officers, Dan Norton and Jim Swanson. Their styles were quite different -- like good cop, bad cop.

"Look, Kid, you've been reported as an undocumented worker and we're gonna send you back to Central America where you came from."

Raymo pretended not to understand, and Officer Norton repeated the threat in broken Spanish.

"You can't do that; I'm American citizen, born in Mercy Hospital in Cedar Rapids," he continued in Spanish.

"Bull shit! You're a wetback and you'll be sent home. You have only one hope. If you tell us all about Mr. Bulgarelli's operation, I'll see if you qualify to stay. We've been trying to get the goods on him for some time. We might be able to make a deal."

"I have to be like Judas and sell out a good man for my reward?"

"Um, it's not like that," Officer Swanson said. "Just tell the truth and things will work out. I'll help you. I don't want to see you deported."

"Don't make any promises, Jim!" Norton cautioned.

"Okay," Raymo continued, this time in perfect English. "Here's the whole truth. Mr. Bulgarelli runs a legitimate operation. He doesn't hire anyone without a social security number. I gave him mine, and I've paid taxes and social security on every cent I've made this summer. What he does is completely above-board."

"Um, what happened to your halting speech?" Officer Swanson asked.

"I'm becoming tired of this game. If you think you have proof that I'm illegal, then you need to produce it. I, however, HAVE proof that I'm not. For starters, I can show you my driver's license with star in the gold circle. My passport is in the safe at home.

"By the way, how is Shawn doing this summer? Does he miss his wrestling partner?"

"Please remove your cap," Officer Swanson requested.

When Raymo did, Jim made the connection.

"My God! You're Raymond Chandler, aren't you?"

"Yup!"

"Dan, I know this young man. He goes to school with my son. He's as much a citizen as either of us."

"So, you're that runaway kid?" Norton said. "You'll face charges when you get home."

"Are you arresting me for fleeing from a dirty pervert?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dan, haven't you seen yesterday's paper? The guy his mother was going to marry has been arraigned on charges of child abuse and possession of kiddy porn."

"What? They got him?" Raymo asked in surprise. "I don't keep up with the news very well without my laptop."

"Yes. When he came under suspicion over your disappearance, his adopted sons came forward and told stories of their own abuse. That was sufficient cause to get a warrant to search his computer. It was filled with unspeakable stuff involving underage children."

"Thank God! Now I can go back and resume my life without literally worrying about saving my ass -- and my brother's!

"You're still a runaway," Norton frowned. "I think we should hold you for the Marion police."

"I don't think that comes under your jurisdiction, Officer. Besides, I'm a juvenile who asked for help from my mother and the authorities before choosing to disappear. No one believed me about that `fine, upstanding pillar of the community.' He's a personal friend of the police chief. I'm gonna tell my story to any reporter who will listen. I'll do my best to get interviewed by someone like David Muir or George Stephanopoulos. If my story goes viral, the local police will be lucky to keep their jobs when I get through. I'll be happy to mention my treatment at the hands of ICE agents too. By the way, give my regards to your mole at the salon. I'm sure she's the one who turned me in.

"Now, unless you have anything else to say to me, I need to go back to my job. Those chickens don't process themselves. I'll accept a ride with Mr. Swanson, so I don't waste too much time getting back to work."

"It's almost noon. May I treat you to lunch," Jim Swanson asked, as they got into his car.

"No thanks. I need to get back to the plant to eat with my buddy. He'll be worried sick. I tried to text him, but he won't check his phone when there's work to be done."

"Sorry about how Dan treated you."

"No problem. It was his doing not yours. Your reputation is safe with me."

"Thanks!" Jim grinned.

"Welcome back, Raymo," Joe Bulgarelli said, embracing his young employee in the cafeteria. "The men from ICE told me I was off the hook -- for now. Thanks for not turning me in."

"You've done nothing wrong! Even if I'd been an illegal trying to save my butt, there'd have been no evidence to provide. You're a good man and you help this community.

"By the way, I'm tendering my two-week notice a little early. I'll work through the middle of August. Then I have to go back to get ready for school."

"I figured you might possibly be the kid who went missing, but you don't have brown hair and tattoos."

"Some of it," Raymo grinned as he doffed his cap. "You can see the brown roots. The tatts were temporary."

"So, I might be charged with harboring a runaway?"

"Never! I had a lot of people fooled. No one knew until recently, not even Luis."

At the end of the day, Raymond called his brother and his mother in that order. Gavin was rather emotional for a young teen who was trying to maintain a macho facade. They exchanged a lot of news, and Gavin thanked him for doing what he had in exposing the man who could have become their stepfather.

Sabrina cried and begged his forgiveness. She wanted to see him as soon as possible.

"I'll get in the car right now and come for you. I can be there in two hours. We'll have dinner and you can sleep in your own bed tonight!"

"You're welcome to come and visit tomorrow on my day off. I won't be leaving my job for another two weeks because I just gave notice. I'd like to return to Marion to get settled, wherever I'll be living."

"Okay, I know you must hate me for taking that man's word over my own son's. What can I do to get you back home with me? Is it possible to redeem myself?"

"I have a proposition. I'll come back home for my last year in high school if I may share my room with another guy."

"Okay, um, is it anyone I know?"

"Nope, his name is Luis Garcia, and I plan to share my bed with him as well."

"Um, does that mean..."

"It means whatever you're thinking. He's my boyfriend and I love him very much. I plan to help him get his college education. After you meet him, I think you'll understand. Perhaps you'd be willing to take us to lunch in Prairie du Chien tomorrow at the Black Angus where we used to go. It would be a nice outing and it's only about a half-hour's drive from here."

"Okay, I'll be there. Where shall I meet you?"

Raymond gave his mother the address of the Nunez's home and said she must come early enough to meet the family who had taken him in.

Luis was heartbroken over the upcoming separation from the boy he'd fallen in love with. He had tears in his eyes when they retired for the evening.

"I'm gonna miss you so much!"

"Maybe not. I made a deal with my mother this afternoon. I'm going home in a couple of weeks, but only on the condition that I can bring you with me. I told her you would be sharing everything I have with you. I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to tell you before dinner. There were so many things I had to explain to Dolores and Geraldo. I needed to do this in private.

"It sounds wonderful, but how can I sponge off of you?"

"Hey, it's just a case of giving back. When I came here in June, I was a desperate kid with few possessions and less hope. You shared everything you had with me, um, especially on our camping getaway...."

"You're a naughty boy, Raymo."

"Thanks! So are you."

"Will you share my narrow bed tonight?"

"Try and keep my out!"

--------------------------------END-----------------------------------

Thanks to all who responded to Besties. I appreciate all the kind comments.

Thanks to David who edited this tale. Without him, there would be more missing words and typos!

Thanks to Nifty for providing this venue. It's proved to be entertainment for those of us hunkering down. If you have the means to do so, now would be a good time to donate to keep this free site available.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

If you enjoyed this tale, I'd love to hear from you. Please write to me at: dlee169@hotmail.com

Stay well,

David