Miracle

Part Three of Miracle. Hope you enjoy. Does anyone that I write about cars a lot? Eh. Anyway, send me some feedback. Visit my site. Http://www.VoteFromTheRooftops.Org

This has been copyrighted by TH380Y in 2001. You cannot duplicate this in any way without out first asking permission of the author.

Miracle By: TH380Y Part Three: Eric

"Today was a good day." I told myself as I collapsed on the bed. I was so tired from the heat and the splashing that I fell asleep within 20 minutes. It was night when I woke up. I must have been more tired than I thought. There were five messages waiting for me. Two of them were from Ashley and Jennifer and the other three were Eric. I called Ashley first. "Hey Ashley." I said as she picked up the phone. "Hey Monkey!" She exclaimed. "What's up?" "Not much. Jennifer and I were just about to go to Telegraph. Want to come?" I knew that if I went with them I would end up getting stoned before the day was over. I didn't know if I wanted that. I looked around my room; something there could save me. The Bouncer was on pause. My bed was a mess and the bongs were sitting out. The Book was sprawled across the floor. I didn't need to go to Telegraph. I didn't really want to I told myself. "I think I'll pass." I told Ashley. "Alright then," She said, "We'll call you later." I hung up and got to work on my room. The first things that I wanted to clean were the bongs. I emptied them out and cleaned them. They went back in the closet. The book was organized again. White Widow on the left and Bumble Berry on the right. Next was my bed. I tore off everything aside from the mattress and stuffed it all in the washer. I grabbed new bedclothes from the hallway closet and made the bed. I went to sleep after everything else was cleared.

The phone was ringing when I woke up. "Hmm?" Such eloquent words. Oh, say more, Monkey, say more. "Hello?" It was Eric's voice. "Hey Eric." I tried to sound enthusiastic to hear his voice. It just came out as me sounding like I had swallowed a frog. "Hey Matt! What's up? I missed you." Ouch. "I missed you . . . too?" "So, do you want to do something tonight?" Oh, yeah it's nighttime. My clock said that is was already 5:26. "Ummm, I don't know. I might be doing something else." "Dido tickets!" He tried to entice me; "Travis is opening." Why is Eric calling me? Why does he have to make EVERYTHING insanely complicated? I don't like Dido enough to go to a concert and I have never heard of Travis. "No thanks." I told him. "Com'on, it'll be fun." There was the hint of a little bit more of what we were used to doing together. "I don't know, man." "Please?" His whining always got to me. "Let me think." I told him, "What time does the show start?" "Ten." "Where is it?" "The Warfield." "How much do tickets cost?" "It's covered." "By you?" I could hear his face wrinkling into a smile. "Alright." I said. "Let's go." Eric picked me up. He had a nice car, a Cougar. Different than everyone else, though. All of the kids that I knew that could drive drove Mustangs. They were in constant competition to see who could make the coolest car. I dozed off in the car. I thought I had gotten enough sleep. Eric woke me up when we got to the Warfield. We parked two blocks away. A crazy dude with a bullhorn was on the side of the street, talking about redemption and how we were all going to go to hell unless we confessed to Jesus. I was so tempted to pull out my favorite phrase. "Jesus is a drag queen!" But I didn't, I was good. Eric and I got inside and picked a table in the second row. We ordered a Nacho Supreme for the show and two Dr. P's. The show began with Travis opening, as promised. This was a new Alternative band from . . . wherever. Mid way through Travis's set, Eric started scooting up next to me more than he already was. It started with the ever so , ever so practiced "yawn and stretch". Then he flat out started hanging on me. I let him, I mean it felt good- I was comfortable there. But he started making out with my body. Right before intermission was called, he was sucking on one of my nipples. When the lights came up, he quickly got up and sat behind me. I could feel his hand on my hands and his bulge pressing against my lower back. "So, uh," He stammered, "Do you want to go to the bathroom now?" "No thanks, man." This was fun and all but . . . Andrew. "Com'on, it'll be fun." Oh my god, he had my sweet spot. He leaned down and bit my right shoulder blade. Right where, in skinny people, it forms the little triangles that point out. There was nothing I could do to stop what was about to happen. I could have tried. But my little head had taken over my critical thought. I followed Eric down the stairs into the men's bathroom. There were mostly women and gay couples in the crowd that night, and they weren't about to use a San Francisco bathroom. Eric and I crowded into a stall. We were breathing hard. Under yellow fluorescent lights, Eric unzipped my fly. Through the staccato sound of the urinals he took my cock out. He breath was hard and warm as he licked the tip. I watched as precum started to ooze out. I could feel him swallow it as I slid my cock in his mouth. Eric sucked hard and played with my foreskin. I was the first boy that he had ever seen with foreskin. And, even on the first night, he knew how to drive me wild. I bucked as he licked the spot where the skin met the head. I was beginning to probe his tonsils. I watched him do his work, his dick was out and his hand was slick. This turned me on so much. I shoved my cock all the way in his mouth and fucked him for all he was worth. I had gotten so close to nutting. So fucking close . . . when I heard, "Are you in here, Monkey- boy?" Three things happened at once after I heard this. I was already so close that, when I pulled out, a strand of jizz hit Eric in the face. I zipped up my pants and guess who got caught? Mini-Monkey. To make matters worse, Eric grabbed my cock to try and get it back in his mouth. I coated his arms and a few spots on the front of his shirt. The next thing I heard was a little boy saying, "Almost finished." "Shit!" I cursed myself. "Matt!" Eric exclaimed and tried to free me. "Don't touch it!" I ordered him. "Are you-" "Shut up." "Can I-" "Shut the fuck up!" I snapped at him, "I can handle this." Luckily, nothing was zipped in. I unzipped and gingerly put my cock back in my pants. Eric was a fucking mess. I took him out of the stall and started to help him wash up. I got the spots on his shirt while he took care of his arms and face. Mind you, this was after the little boy was gone. The faint echo of Dido drifted down from upstairs. There were little blotches on his shirt. But they looked like food stains that had recently been removed. We walked up to the hall in silence. Eric never tried to get close to me. The pain that I had experienced earlier faded by the fourth song. Overall the concert wasn't very good. Pain and emotional situation excluded, I didn't like Dido or Travis.

"So what did you think of the concert?" We were back in Eric's car. He had just started the engine and the song on the radio was one of Dido's. I was sick of Dido. Eric looked happy. He seemed to have enjoyed the concert immensely. I heard him singing along behind me. The urge to turn off the radio was ripping me apart. I could already see him crashing down from his little bubble. I was pissed off too. Who wouldn't be pissed off after they got their penis stuck in a zipper? I was also pissed off because I wasn't with Andrew and I had done something with Eric. Who I didn't want to do anything with. "I've been to better ones." I answered bitterly. "Oh." I could feel Eric's bubble recoil. We were on the Bay Bridge. Eric was speeding. He was going 85 miles per hour. My heart was doing about 220. "Ummm . . .I" I tried to raise Eric's attention. "Do you think you could slow down?" "Sure." He braked quickly and shot down to 55 miles per hour. I was doing 260. Eric sped up again to 65 and then back to 80 miles per hour. I watched Eric's face as we drove through the Yerba Buena Isle. Tunnel. Each orange splash of light made him look angrier. I wanted out of the car. This was the only time that I had seen genuine feeling poke through on Eric's face. I was getting close to frightened. We rode on in silence. He spoke just before we entered the Webster Tube. "What did I do?" Eric asked quietly. "What?" His words caught me off guard. "What did I do?" He spoke in a more audible tone. "Do? When? Back at the concert?" "Yes, why did you stop? Why did you hurt yourself? What did I do?" Oh great, we're in the Webster Tube, going 50 miles per hour and he wants to fuck up his perceptions and ask me a loaded question like that. He's going to hit the wall and we're going to crash. But that's not it, there are going to be five cars behind that won't have room enough to stop. We'll be extra dead. We'll be fucking sardines. "I thought I heard someone I knew." I answered truthfully. He spat, "Bullshit! It was me. I know it was. That's why you haven't been calling me. It's because I did something horribly wrong." Whoosh! We're out of the tube climbing to 65 miles per hour. "You hate me, don't you? What have I done wrong? I've tried to do everything right. The concert." "Dude-He" He cut me off. "I thought I gave you head like you've always liked it." "The wheel . . .I" I tried to get his attention back on driving. "WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO MAKE YOU SO PISSED OFF?" He was talking with his hands now, not watching where we were going. "ANSWER ME!" He screamed again. The grass was getting closer; he had just cut across two lanes of almost solid traffic. The College of Alameda was not very far away. The fact that every one of them was blaring their horns seemed to make no difference. Something needed to be done. "What have I done?" He was crying now. His hands went to his face. We're heading towards the granite sign for The College of Alameda. Behind that was the parking lot of The College of Alameda. And after was THE COLLEGE OF ALAMEDA!!! "Grab the fucking wheel!" I roared at him. He looked at the wheel and then where we were. He slammed on the brakes and did a harsh turn. We spun back in a 180. For a moment I saw the headlights of every car behind us and thought that we were still on the street. And then, in another moment, I realized that we had stopped and the inertia I was feeling was nausea. I stumbled out of the car and threw up at the sign. Was it the sign? I was way too dizzy to decide where I was. I might have even thrown up five inches away from the car. My esophagus felt caramelized back in the car. The ammonia smell was still with me. Eric was driving the speed limit now. He took the exit. He looked shaken up, more shaken up than when I screamed at him to grab the wheel. His arms shook as he drove. We didn't swerve though, the car stayed centered. It was just him that was moving. Six or seven minutes later we pulled up in front on my house. I crossed behind the car to talk to Eric. "Eric," I said to him, "If you ever do that again, I'm going to kill you." Eric swallowed, "Alright." I stepped away from the car, expecting him to drive off. And then I heard the clutch scream at him. The car lurched backwards. It screamed again, he drove forward. And again, he kept drifting. And again, he stopped. His head hit the wheel and the car turned off. I walked up to the driver's side. Eric was crying. Great, not only a boy that I don't want to be with right now, but a boy that I don't want to be with is crying. I looked towards Andrew's house to see if anyone was looking. But they weren't. "Are you having problems?" I asked him. He stopped crying to make everything seem fine. "Ummm . . . no." But he cried more after he said it. "Do you want to come in?" I asked him. "Alright." A smile. He locked the car and came in. He'd been in my house before and so he knew where everything was. We came into my room. He sat on my computer chair and watched me. I took out The Book; I couldn't handle what was going on right then. An idiot driver had almost killed me. The idiot driver watched as I took out some bumble berry and packed a bowl. "You're sleeping here tonight, right?" I asked him. "Yeah." He replied. "Do you want a hit or two?" "I don't smoke, sorry." "I knew that, but I had to ask. Etiquette, you know." "Yeah." "Do you want the bed or do you want to sleep on the futon?" "I'll sleep on the futon." "You sure?" "Yeah." "Alright. I am going to be on the roof." I walked up to the roof and sat down on a lawn chair. The pipe never went to my lips and the bud was never lit. I just sat there, staring at the pipe. A rush of guilt had just come over me. This wouldn't be a cool time if I were guilty. I walked back downstairs and put everything away. "Never mind, I" I announced, "I'm not going to have any tonight." "Alright." Eric replied. It was one now. I was tired. I took the futon out of my closet and put it on the floor next to my bed. I pulled out a blanket and two pillows. Eric thanked me. The lights went out after we were both situated. I waited until I heard Eric's breathing become long and regular. Only then did I go to sleep. Sometime between then and the morning, Eric wound up in bed. He was nuzzled up against my chest. I could feel his warm breath against me. His chest was near my thigh and I could feel his heartbeat. I fell asleep counting his heartbeats.

Andrew and I were on a highway. We weren't in an area that I knew, at first. There was a convoy behind us. I felt it. We were on a field trip. I felt that too. There were no immediate facts. I was too focused on seeing through the windshield. Rain was falling in sheets. The wipers were on high and all they did was push the puddle of water to a different area. We were close to our exit; Andrew cut across two lanes of highway. This was one of those huge turns that shoots you out into another freeway. We started to turn and, suddenly, the car pulled a 180. We were going faster than 45 miles per hours, we should have flipped. But we didn't. There was a burst of calm in the spin. There were no cars coming towards us when we came out. I worried about how we would be reamed by one of the staff if they saw that. We drove 50 more feet and then pulled a 360. Everything went in slow motion. Everything was quiet; there was the rain, the engine pulling massive Rpm's. Andrew was laughing. I started to enjoy myself. I looked over to Andrew and he was looking into my eyes, smiling. His eyes danced like fire.

And it was over as soon as it had begun. What a wonderfully strange dream. I woke up with a start. Calm inside of what would normally be chaos. And chaos out of what would normally be calm. Eric was still against my chest. I waited until he woke up. His breathing returned to normal, he took a deep breath and then stretched. He made a noise when he stretched after he'd woken up. Like a squeak. Small animals do the same thing. It was a cute squeak. "Hey." I said to him. "Hi sexy," His voice hit a note that bounced around in my skull, making my ears ring. He kissed me. I didn't return his kiss. Instead, I got up and sat on a chair. How cold do I have to be to get him to leave me alone? I mean, shit. And I know what you're thinking, "Well what about the bathroom?" The bathroom was a hormone, nothing but. He knew my weakness and he hit it. I was a goner. But this, this . . . kiss. I'm not going to kiss him back. I don't like him. So what if he's cute? He's also: self- centered, whiney, greedy, superficial.and superficial. Any bad attributeattributes that ends in "y" and is associated with the stereotypical gay person. "What's wrong?" I wanted him out of the house, NOW. "I think what we did at the concert was a mistake." Eric didn't know what to think. "Ummm . . . okay. But we're still gonna have sex, right." Was this a boy out of a bad porn story? "No, we're not." "Then why did you come to the concert with me?" So now a concert is basis for having sex. That's a new one tno me. "I felt bad that I was giving you such a cold shoulder. Dude, I don't want to have sex with you anymore." Eric sat up and straightened the wrinkles in his clothes with his hands. "We said that this was going to be a temporary thing, right?" "Yeah . . . Eric" Eric stammered, "Yeah" "Well, then I found someone else, Eric. Sorry, man." "But . . . but." Eric was trying to find a way to rationalize this. The best way is to make it my fault. "I told you I loved you." "But I don't love you Eric." Eric stood up quickly and stood against the bookcase. The thought that he may throw it down crossed my mind. But the bookcase was bolted to the wall. Earthquake safety. Eric safety, I guess, also. His face was becoming angry. In his eyes I could see the humiliation, sorrow, jealousy being covered up by a blanket of rage. "I think you should leave, Eric." He stood there deftly, his hands were opening and clenching, opening and clenching. The knuckles of his hands were white. "Eric?" And here came the futile attack on me. Eric raced forward with his fists ready. Each "punch" was like someone throwing paper balls at me. I turned around on him so that he would hit my back. My back is the area where people can hit me, but they won't hurt me. Instead, they hurt themselves. And just as I thought he would, a blow to my shoulder blade was administered followed by an "OW!" from Eric. Now was my time to throw his ass out of my house. I spun around, cinched my hand around his elbow, cutting circulation, and dragged him out the door behind me. He was struggling and once he punched me in the nose. My nose is the most fragile place of my body. Seriously more fragile than any other human being that I know. I brought my hand to my nose. Before I was three inches away from it, a drop of blood fell on it. My reaction to blood is not fear or panic, but anger. And, if someone has hit me in the nose, rage. I turned Eric around he was still struggling. I whacked him in the nose with the heal of my hand. His nose was bleeding now. Then hit his hands away as he tried to block and pounded him in the chest, palms open, and sent him flying. Eric hit the car at a fairly fast speed. "Leave now, Eric." I told him. Eric took a bat out of his trunk and pointed it at me. This seemed to have become a fight about pride. I felt like he was trying to get some superiority on me, now that he found out that he had none. Well, I didn't have a weapon, there was a gun in a wall safe in my closet but I wasn't seriously going to use that. Maybe if I laughed at him he would realize how stupid he was being and put it down. Or maybe I could bust out the Judo moves that I DON'T HAVE. In the end I was spearing him. He hit me in the back (you already know about the back) as we crunched into the car. I scrambled up to get the bat and yelled at him to leave. He still stood his ground. A star from the blood of my nose was on his shirt. "What the fuck are you doing, dude?" I yelled at him. No response. "What is this a fight for? Why won't you leave?" No response. "I don't need this drama." No response. "Alright, tell you what. I'll give your bat back and then you'll leave, how about that?" He finally realized that there was still blood going down his face and tended to it. I was enraged, but I had control over it. He needed to go soon. Eric came at me again. I swung the bat and hit him in the shoulder; the force shoved him to the side. I swung again and hit him in the thigh, knocking him down. I forced him up and shoved him at the driver's side door. "Go." I told him. He was well; he was capable of driving. I hadn't broken anything. Or, I tried not to break anything. A scene from The Big Lebowski ran through my head. They were looking for some stolen money and had come to a kid's house. The Dude's friend suspected the kid had spent on the fancy car out front and started bashing it. He was yelling, "You see! You see! This is what happens when you fuck people in the ass. This is what happens." "Get the fuck out of here before I start breaking things on your car." I was having fun now. I immediately stopped. Eric, in the meantime, was already at the stop sign. I went inside and had a hot shower. My nose stopped bleeding the instant I got in the shower. I wiped the blood off my face and arms and stood in there for a while. A shower is a magical thing. It washes the bad things away. If you're sad, it will make you feel better. If you're hurting, a nice hot one will make it all better. I got out of the shower feeling fine. I wasn't the one that was the worst hurt. I wondered if I had broken any of Eric's bones. I knew he would be having a lot of bruises in the morning. I might need a restraining order later on, I thought to myself. I didn't know how serious things had to get to need a restraining order, but I figured that was pretty serious. I surfed the Internet and found a lot of new and well-written stories on Nifty. I read some and signed off. On the "Welcome" screen of AOL I noticed that 420 was coming up. I thought of The Circle and of Andrew. But I quickly ruled that out. We shouldn't be near any body of water in walking distance when we are fucked up. -------------- That was part three. Hope you enjoyed it. Send me some feedback. Visit my site. Http://www.VoteFromTheRooftops.Org