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Chapter 2 - A Promise Made
Farm towns are unique places in 21st century America. Even though houses can be miles apart, everyone seems to know everyone else. Friendships that would almost never happen in closer, faster places can become lifelong bonds. So it was with Dylen and Rian.
The two young men had known each other since early childhood. In fact, they honestly didn't remember how they became playmates; it was as if the other were always there. Before kindergarten, they spent many days playing typical childhood games around the May and Mason farms. But, by the time they reached school age, their parents were surprised that the friendship continued. Rian was a grade ahead of Dylen. Dylen's inward nature and Rian's outgoing spirit were already clearly developed. Despite this, they were the definition of best friends. There was just something unquantifiable about them that seemed to click.
But, the teen years often have a way of changing close friendships. Rian moved to middle school first and gained his interest in athletics. Often Dylen would feel left out as Rian went to practices and games, places Dylen could not go. At the same time, Dylen's parents began to involve him in the massive array of LDS youth activities, like scouting and mutual. With less and less time together, Rian and Dylan's friendship became more of a distant friendly acquaintance. They got along well when they were together, but those times were few and far between.
The two had drifted apart completely by the time Rian reached high school. His circle of friends exploded as he grew into the star athlete and the head-turning physical specimen he was destined to become. But, somehow, when Dylen reached high school, the friendship rekindled. At first, they seemed so different that no one thought it would work. Dylen wasn't athletic and his group of friends was much smaller than Rian's. But, while they were not as close as they had been in childhood, they did talk and hang out from time to time.
As Dylen blossomed into his own in high school, the friendship became one of mutual respect and admiration. For as long as he had known Rian, Dylen had looked up to him. When they were little Rian was like a brother, something the lonely Dylen desperately wanted. And after they were grown, Rian, the super popular athlete, treated him as an equal. Even more surprising to Dylen, he completely trusted Rian. It was not something he'd typically do, especially when he grew into young adulthood. But, there was just something about Rian that made Dylen feel comfortable, more comfortable than being around anyone else he knew.
That Dylen would admire Rian wasn't exactly surprising -- everyone either admired or envied Rian. But what would have shocked most people, including Dylen himself, was how much Rian admired him. Rian grew to see Dylen as the model of a good man. He admired the way Dylen inspired others to be their best. Dylen had done as many things to be proud of. He'd been an eagle scout at 14 and a great musician. He was good looking and a virtual genius. But, all the while, he was still humble. Rian knew a lot of girls who were attracted to Dylen's thin, tailored body and his cute, boyish features. He could have taken advantage of dozens of opportunities those girls offered for sex and greater popularity, but he never did. That was something Rian could not claim for himself.
Being an athlete, Rian was expected to bed his share of girls. He did it not out of love or even a desire for sexual satisfaction, but simply out of locker room peer pressure. The rumor mill greatly exaggerated the number of Rian's "conquests." He'd had sex with only three girls, but there was no feeling, no love -- just empty contact. That he couldn't resist temptation and save himself for someone he loved was secretly an embarrassment to Rian.
Before that night, Rian hadn't seen Dylen since he'd moved to college. A year is a long time, and people can change sometimes. But standing there in the barely illuminated blackness of the road, the being Rian saw in front of him was not the Dylen he knew. This Dylen looked more like a stereotypical grunge fan dropout. His hair looked uncombed and about three times longer than it used to be. His clothes were clean, but hap-hazard and wrinkled, a huge difference from the well-maintained, spit and polish man Rian remembered. The calm that once seemed to flow from his younger friend like a cool mountain stream was gone. Dylen's eyes were almost dark, bereft of their life loving light. They were red and puffy, surrounded by tear streaked cheeks. It was obvious that Dylen had been crying and crying hard. And crying over an accident wasn't the old Dylen -- not by a long shot. 'Something horrible is going on,' Rian surmised. What could have changed the person he knew so much?
At first, Dylen stared at Rian blankly. Rian gripped Dylen's shoulders and shook him gently. Dylen just continued staring. "Dylen, are . . . you . . . OK?" Rian repeated slowly, with evident concern.
With those words, Dylen's unfocused eyes started clearing. It finally registered to his still foggy mind who had found him. He took a reflexive deep breath of relief. "Rian?" he said.
Of all the people in the world to see at this moment, Dylen's heart knew that Rian was the best. It had taken a moment to recognize him - and not just because of the depressed anger that had clouded his mind. Rian had shed the last of his teen looks. Dylen was honestly overtaken by the vision of the fully grown, handsome man whom he had called friend. He had always felt something around Rian, but in this moment, there was even more. It felt like a connection -- an urge, a magnetic pull - drawing him toward Rian. It was an unearthly, breathtaking feeling. But, as quickly as it arose, the feeling vanished.
Perhaps because of that good feeling, the pit of despair Dylen had fallen into was fading. Even though Rian hadn't asked it, Dylen's cracking voice answered the question he'd expected to hear. "Wasn't paying attention, I guess."
"What?" Rian asked. Dylen's words sounded disjointed. Moving from the road, the blank stare, disjoint comments. 'He may have a concussion,' Rian thought. Rian had taken basic first aid in high school, and the training kicked in. "Come on. You need to sit down."
Rian wrapped his strong arm around Dylen's shoulder and helped him toward the convertible. Even though Dylen was moving under his own under power, Rian couldn't help but feel that he was holding his friend up. Rian almost lifted Dylen off his feet as he guided him gently into the driver's seat. Once Dylen was seated and stationary, Rian gave him a quick once over, making sure there were no obvious injuries.
Dylen looked at the kneeling man and again felt that strange urge. It was now something like an electric buzz, as Rian gently touched him, checking for injury. That feeling seemed to go straight to his soul. 'Rian could handle anything, unlike me,' Dylen thought. 'He's so calm.' Dylen had always secretly felt inferior to muscular guys. It was so different with Rian. But, as quickly as it came before, the feeling retreated again.
As Rian continued his check, Dylen started to explain his answer. "I ran up on a dog. I swerved to miss it and wound up there. I should have been paying more attention to what the fuck I was doing," Dylen said. Rian caught an almost bitter tone to Dylen's recovering voice but let the comment go. He knew that he'd be mad if he'd been in a careless accident. Still, it was not like Dylen to curse, even when he was mad.
Rian focused again on his friend's face. Dylen seemed to be getting better by the second, but the blankness -- the dimness in his eyes -- was still there. It was just out of place. Still, Rian decided that it would be OK to leave him for a second while he checked out the wrecked car. "You're gonna be OK, Dylen. I think you're just shaken up a little bit. I'm gonna see if there's anything I can do about your car. You'll be alright until then. OK?"
Dylen nodded understanding, and watched as Rian stood up. He turned around and walked toward the floundered car. After circling several times, Rian arrived at the same conclusion Dylen had earlier-- he couldn't see any real damage. He knelt on the ground to see how and where the car was stuck. Unlike the disaster Dylen saw when he viewed the scene, Rian noticed that the car didn't appear to be deeply imbedded in the rise. It was balanced just on top of the collected soil. Rian added up everything and decided he could push the car back onto the road easily. It wouldn't be any more difficult than moving a car sliding in mud, perhaps easier. If Dylen wasn't able to follow him to the Mason farm - and there was no way, Rian was going to let him go it alone -- at least he could move the car to an access road nearby and leave it until morning
Rian returned to his own car. He noticed Dylen was still intently watching him, but he looked much better after the few minutes calm. Rian didn't want to ask what he was going to, just when Dylen seemed to be back together. But he needed the help. Rian leaned in and propped himself against the car using the windshield and the side of the car for support. Now overshadowed by Rian's bulk, Dylen felt almost totally enveloped - and strangely safe. "Feeling better?" Rian asked.
'Yeah. I can think again at least," Dylen replied, a little distracted.
"Do you think you can help me get your car out of the ditch? Feel up to it?" Rian asked.
"Huh?" Dylen asked incredulously. "You think we can move it?" Dylen had expected that it would take a tow truck to pull his car out.
"Shouldn't be a problem," Rian said matter-of -factly. "It's not as stuck as it looks. We just need to move the car a foot or two forward, and then it will be on solid ground. I can push, if you will steer it back on the road."
Dylen paused. He'd always known Rian as strong as hell -- seeing the Adonis standing in front of him only solidified that -- but he thought Rian was crazy for trying to do this alone. But, then he glanced up at those outstretched triceps. Maybe Rian really could do it. Dylen decided to take the chance. "OK," he said.
Rian stood upright again, allowing Dylen to also stand. Once they reached Dylen's car, Rian opened the much more easily accessed passenger door. He explained to Dylen what he wanted him to do. Dylen slid in the passenger seat and moved the gear shift to neutral.
Meanwhile, Rian moved around to the back of the car. He stepped over the rise and down into the ditch. He needed to find good footing, and in this light, that wasn't going to be easy. After looking around for a moment, he found a spot of solid earth several inches below where the water line would have been. He'd have no choice but to approach the car at an odd angle, so this would be harder than he first thought.
Rian willed his mind to enter "the zone," a state he knew so well through sports and lifting that he could access it almost on command. He focused his concentration, causing everything to fall away except his opponent. Ritualistically, Ryan cracked his neck, squared his shoulders, and settled into a wrestler-like position, ready to free the car.
"You ready?" Rian asked.
"Go" Dylen yelled back.
Rian took a deep breath and placed his hands on the rear bumper. His muscles tightened and expanded as he applied force to the car. At first, there was no movement at all. The car was going to put up a fight. After a few moments of stalemate, Rian relaxed but only for a second, allowing momentum to do some work. He re-gathered his forces, and again, pushed hard against the car. This time, there was a sound, a grinding of metal on earth. Rian and Dylen felt the car slide forward ever so slightly. It's perfectly perched angle changed, and Dylen felt the rear end tilt. He was shocked. He couldn't believe that Rian was really doing it.
Rian was invigorated. He'd felt his opponent break, and he dumped more power in to the push. There was a further movement and Rian took a step forward. Finally, he growled with exertion and pushed even harder. He took another step, then another, then another. The odd angle he was forced to start at was righting, allowing him to more easily free the vehicle. There was slow, steady movement now, but Rian kept pushing. A final bump- bounce signaled that the tires had rolled off the rise. The car was now free of its earthen trap.
Once it was fully on the road again, Rian stopped pushing. He took a satisfied deep breath, and slowly let it out. It had not been the hardest thing he'd ever done to be sure. Still it wasn't easy, and he was a little winded at the effort. Dylen open his door and almost ran the six feet to the car's rear to thank Rian. Dylen skidded to a halt as he turned the corner. While he had been impressed before, the sight of Rian now really was breathtaking. Rian's skin was slightly reddened from the sudden exertion. Every muscle group Dylen could see clearly, from Rian's forearms to his calves, was now enlarged from the slight pump. Rian barely registered the difference, but to Dylen's inexperienced eyes, he was monstrous. Dylen tried to take in the first bodybuilder "pump" he'd ever seen in the flesh, but all his overloaded mind could manage at the sight was one slowly whispered word:
"Shit."
As he said it, Dylen wondered what Rian would look like after a long workout, throwing around tons of clanking plates, drenched in sweat. That feeling zapped through him again.
An almost imperceptible smile graced Rian's mouth and eyes as he heard Dylen speak. Strongman feats just weren't his style. Still, it was nice to be appreciated by someone like Dylen. "Ah. I promise you it was a lot harder than I thought it would be," Rian said. Dylen turned a little red himself, embarrassed that Rian had heard him. Rian continued to smile and stood to full height again. He raised his arms above his head, stretching both his muscles. "Come on. Let's see if we can get it started, huh," Rian said.
Dylen was preoccupied with what he'd just witnessed as he rounded the car and opened the driver's door. Rian was almost ready to make the walk himself when he noticed a trail of liquid slowly spreading. He knelt down and touched it. It slid between his fingers almost like water, but the smell gave it away. Gasoline. Something in the rise must have torn the fuel line, or worse, punctured the gas tank. 'It's a miracle Dylen's still alive,' Rian thought. In any case, this car was going nowhere under power.
"Hey Dylen," Rian said as he moved around to the driver's door. Dylen turned and looked out the lowered window. On Rian's outstretched fingers, he saw a liquid shine and caught a whiff of fuel. His mind leapt to the correct conclusion. Dylen's newfound calm shredded and for a moment tears welled up in his eyes.
"Jesus fucking Christ, can anything else go goddamned wrong? Is there any other way I can possibly fuck up any worse!" Dylen yelled. Rian almost took a step back at the ferocity, the unbridled self hatred, he heard in that voice. He knew his gut reaction had been right. Something horrible was happening because he'd heard the sound of those words before. They triggered something -- something Rian had tried very hard to forget but couldn't. It involuntarily played in his memory, resurrected by that cry. A flower covered room . . . an open burnished steel box . . . A too-pale, reconstructed face. . . the loud but soundless close of a lid. He saw it all vividly. Everything made sense now. The question was why?
"Hey. It's OK." Rian said, trying to calm Dylen down. Dylen looked up to face Rian, with the fire of demonic anger filling his eyes. Rian started stumbling. That look was frightening. He tried to stem the tide of what he feared was soon to come. "I must have pulled a line loose or something getting the car back on the road. It's nothing that can't be easily fixed. We'll just move the car off the road. Your dad can get it home tomorrow. I'll drop you off at your house. After something like this, you're just lucky to be alive."
Dylen closed up again. The anger, much to Rian's relief seemed to fade. "I'm sorry. I'm just upset, I guess," Dylen lied. The violent shadow in him was upset that he hadn't blown up. He'd be no more trouble to anyone that way. For the second time that night, Dylen wondered if he was more trouble than he was worth.
Rian opened the passenger side door to his convertible and again led Dylen to it. After securing the door, Rian returned to Dylen's car and easily guided it about 100 yards back to a field access road. He found a scrap of paper that had once been in one of Dylen's textbooks, wrote a note with a pen he found, and put it under a windshield wiper.
Rian returned to his own car and gave Dylen his keys back. "I'll have you home in 10 minutes." Rian cranked his engine and Stone Temple Pilots "Creep" blared from the speakers. Quickly fumbling with the CD player, Rian turned down the volume, only to hear that Dylen had started to hum along. "You like STP?" Rian asked.
"They're one of my favorite bands." was Dylen subdued reply. Rian increased the volume and Dylen resumed humming. He didn't realize it, but it had been a long time.
Rian sat down and opened his laptop. He clicked open his journal, entered the password, and began typing.
May 7, 2004 -
Rian first entered some details of his workout that morning and then typed on:
I was feeling great about the day, until late this evening. I was a few miles from home when I ran into Dylen Mason. He'd had an accident on the road coming to our parents' houses. Something about trying to miss a dog, he said. I helped him with his car and got him home, but something's really wrong with him.
Every word out of his mouth was as if it came from a perfect stranger, instead of the person I grew up around. Sure, people can change, and granted I haven't really talked with him or even seen him in a year. But, a man like Dylen, a man I have always thought so much of -- Hell. Why is it so hard to be honest here, I admire Dylen Mason and what life has in store for him. -- change so radically from the character I always saw in him.
It was really scary, like the way Brock sounded just before that day. Standing there with Dylen, I saw it all happening again. I know they believe it was drugs with Brock, but I know better. I know exactly why he did it, and I don't think I can ever forgive myself for my part in it. I pushed him, pushed him so hard . . . But whatever it was that drove Brock to do it, I'll never believe that its drugs with Dylen. How can somebody with as much going for him as Dylen has be so depressed? Of course, all the guys on the floor thought the same thing about Brock. Only I knew the truth.
When Dylen screamed over the gas, I honestly believe he would have done it then, if he'd been alone or had a gun. I promised myself - I promised him standing there that last time -- never again. I will not let it happen to Dylen. I've already let one friend blow his brains out without even saying a word. I was too involved in myself before to see it, but not now. It won't happen again. Not to Dylen. He's got too much to live for.
Before I left the Mason's, I asked Dylen's dad if I could come over to see him tomorrow morning and he agreed. I need to make arrangements to pay for that gas leak, whatever it is, whether I did it or not. At least, it will give me a chance to see what I can do for Dylen. One thing's for certain. The Dylen I knew is gone. I've got to help him get back."
Rian closed the screen as a tear ran down his cheek. The worst week in his young life replayed as he sat there. He saw it all again . . . The blood soaked mattress . . . Police . . . Funeral . . . Carrying Brock's casket to the graveside. . . The hollow sound of dirt hitting a concrete vault . . . A cold granite stone.
Not again.
The lights snapped out as Dylen's mom left the room and closed the door. Dylen lay in his bed. It took a half hour of poking, prodding, and questioning from his parents before they were satisfied that he was indeed OK. But, there was something wrong with him. It occurred to him as he sat listening to that song in Rian's car. He couldn't shake the voice in his head that he'd been listening to when the wreck had happened. If he ever called it a voice, they'd lock him up as schizophrenic; besides it wasn't really a voice. It was more of a drive, something pulling him along into what? He really didn't know until tonight. Suicide. Listening to that song and realizing that he'd honestly been considering it, scared Dylen. But, the shadow was always there. 'It's here right now,' Dylen thought.
It had taken tonight's events with Rian for Dylen to come to the realization that he was no longer the person he had been a year ago. The voice had changed him, turned him. But, he was changed. He was different fundamentally from what his parents, and everyone else, thought he was. Is this what it really means to be this way? If he gave in to his feelings, was it a sentence of continual loneliness or was it that electric thrill he felt with Rian tonight? There was no one to turn to, no one to help him. He couldn't figure out what to do. What if all this happens again, only this time Rian isn't there?
Dylen needed a release badly. Something to help him feel good, even for a few moments. The images of Rian came back to his mind. Rian had been so nice, so understanding when he didn't have to be. He could have just called his father to come and help him, but Rian had stayed with him and helped every step of the way. He'd taken charge when Dylen could barely think for himself. Then the picture of Rian first coming into the light popped into his mind, that first moment of recognition. God, he was huge. So beautiful. Flawless. There was nothing that such beauty could not do. Then, Dylen's mind raced over images he saw the rest of the evening -- after pushing the car, the ride home, helping him inside to his parents. Dylen had become entranced as he watched every flexion of Rian's body. If there really was an ultimate man, he'd just seen him. So strong, so perfect. Dylen reached inside his boxers for his hardening dick.
Dylen saw the triceps flexed above his head again. Then he saw Rian step back and take off his shirt. Rian started flexing his muscles, flexing his muscles just for him. There was a glow of sweat and a nodded invitation. He could almost smell the pungent salty musk coating his vision in a surreal shine. Dylen reached out to touch the warm . . .
Wet . . .
Hard . . . flesh.
Another instantly eternal moment had begun.