Disclaimers: Please see Chapter 1 for disclaimers.
Welcome to the Sandwich Shoppe, may I help you?" came the voice from behind the counter, emotionless, as would be expected from someone who spent all day behind a counter waiting on the public.
The man looked to the teenager. Their eyes met. He stared. His mouth opened to recite his order, but no words came out. He was dumbfounded. He was overwhelmed by the look of this kid. Brownish blond hair that curled neatly on his forehead, reminding one of sheep's wool. And blue-green eyes that were highlighted by the blue uniform shirt of the shop.
The boy waited a few seconds, then repeated, "May I help you, sir?"
The voice snapped Stephen back to the real world, but he still couldn't get any words out of his mouth. He stared at the kid's handsome face, a face that somehow looked familiar, and then at the name tag on his pocket. "Joey." *****
Chapter 3
Finally, out of embarrassment, Stephen collecting his composure, stammered out, "Roast beef on french."
"Do you want lettuce and tomatoes on that?"
"Yeah. And a bag of chips."
As the boy went to work on his order, Stephen felt as if his mouth were hanging to the floor like a cartoon character. He thought to himself that his mind was playing a trick on him. Here he was trying to escape reality for at least a few days, but someone above was not about to let him get away that easily. This kid was a dead ringer for Scott, the little boy who had been the light of Stephen's life. This kid was a young man, 19 years old, busily wrapping up a sandwich for the man on the other side of the counter. Stephen panicked. He knew that he was drawn to this young man, that somehow he needed to find a way to keep this chance meeting from ending in less than a minute.
Stephen's mind rashly formulated a plan. Strike up a conversation. Hope for the best. "I'm not too familiar with this area. Just up for the weekend. Could you tell me when the nearest shopping center would be from the Ocean Manor Motel?"
"Ocean Manor, huh? I live a couple of blocks from there. What are you looking for exactly?"
Stephen could not believe he heard the words he needed to hear, "a couple of blocks away." This was the second chance he so desperately hoped for, but never expected. Everyone is supposed to get just one chance in their life.
"Just some entertainment. Movies, restaurants..." His mind was on full alert. He watched for alarms. Was he talking too much? He was hoping that the emotions churning within him were not revealed in his voice.
Joey paused for a minute, considering the options. "The only mall near there is up the road about one mile, then about six blocks from the ocean. Take Highway 101 to Crescent. Then turn right."
"Thanks," said Stephen. He reached for the bag holding his sandwich and started to turn away from the counter, but as he grabbed the bag, he made sure that he made contact with his fingers intentionally on Joey's hand. The touch lingered just a second longer than it needed to. But in that one second, Stephen felt an energy, some message that he tried to send to this kid. He hoped that Joey felt it.
Turning back to the counter, he paused, then cautiously asked, "If you've got some time this weekend... come on down to the beach... that is, if you like. I could use some company."
"Sure, I'm working tomorrow til after lunch, but maybe I could pass by the motel late tomorrow afternoon, say around 4?"
"I'll be there, you can count on it!" For the first time in the conversation, the corners of Stephen's mouth began to turn up. The nervousness was gone from his voice. He was willing to take this chance. The smile that broke out on Stephen's face was reflected back at him through Joey. As Stephen turned to leave, his mind flashed back to a little boy's smile, one that was missing one front tooth. But besides that, everything in that smile was identical. It was frightening how the flood of old emotions tore through his mind. Was he making another mistake?
Chapter 4
Stephen drove into the parking lot of the motel, pulling into a space away from any activity, and turned off the ignition. He slumped over the steering wheel and exhausted a breath full of nervous energy. He closed his eyes. He felt an icy cold shiver run through his entire body, shaking him uncontrollably. His hands would not let go of the steering wheel.
After five minutes that felt like forever, tears welled up. They slowly began running down him cheeks, back and forth from one eye then the other. His emotions debated over what to feel. Embarrassment? But why? He hadn't done anything wrong, hadn't said anything offensive or suggestive. All he felt was a strong attachment, maybe love at first sight, for a boy he had never met in his life. Anger? Anger at himself for breaking that promise of two years ago, never to let anyone in that close again. But the kid hadn't said any personal at all. He just promised to hang out at the beach.
It was all in his mind if there was anything there. Affection? Affection! He pictured the thought of his arms wrapped gently around that boy, holding him as if he were fragile. Running his fingers through his hair, to the muscles in the back of his neck, to the shoulders and back. Just touching and holding. Closeness. Nothing but love. Where the hell did that come from?
Stephen snapped upright in the car seat. He shook his head as if to knock out the cobwebs. He thought, "Get yourself together - at least get in the motel room where you can be alone to figure this out." He looked around to see if anyone noticed. The world was ignoring him, thank goodness. He got out of the car, went in to the registration desk.
"Welcome to the Sandwich Shoppe, may I help you?" said the clerk behind the counter.
Stephen stopped and stared. What was he seeing? To his mind's eye, he saw Joey behind the counter, those blue-green eyes, that sheep's wool hair, the youthful body. "Excuse me?"
The old man said, "Welcome to Ocean Manor, may I help you?"
"Reservations for Andrews," Stephen answered.
The old man moved deliberately, opened the reservations file and pulled out Stephen's paperwork. Stephen signed quickly, wanting to get to his room to sort out the chaos going on in his head. The clerk asked, "How many keys will you need?"
It should have been an automatic response. He had wanted to be alone. But his heart told him what to say. He chuckled to himself and said, "Two, please."
Chapter 5
The chimes of the store rang as the man walked out, sandwich and chips in a bag. Joey watched as the man walked away, taking in as much of him has he could. Trying to remember it all. How was his hair cut? What kind of clothes did he wear? Did he keep himself in shape? How would his arms feel wrapped around me?
"Whoa, Joey," he thought. "Chill, man."
Joey stepped into the back room for a minute. Even though he lived a mile from the beach, he never went there. Hell, Joey hated the beach. He thought of every excuse not to go surfing with his friends. Now, he's accepted an invitation from a stranger that he would meet there tomorrow. All because of a touch of his hand. He had felt the man leave his hand there for a split second, and he had felt something electric there.
Joey had stared into the eyes of the man across the counter from him. Joey saw in those eyes something that sent shivers down his spine and caused the blood to run out of his face. In all of his childhood, he had never had a man take any interest in him. God, how many times had he been hurt growing up, watching the other boys with their dads. How many times had he felt so different from everyone else in his world. How many times had he wished that someone like this stranger would have offered the chance to be company.
He had needed someone to step forward to fill that emptiness that began that night so many years ago when he looked down into the coffin. Could this man be the answer to that question, or could it be more?
"What's up, I thought you had the counter?" Mr. James, the manager came walking through the back door of the storage room.
"Sorry, I... uh,.. just came back for... some napkins." It became pretty obvious to Joey that the interaction between him and the stranger had completely rattled him. It was pretty obvious to Mr. James, too. And that wasn't good.
"Napkins, huh? Like those two packs right under the counter up front? Too busy checking out the babes to do your job? What's the deal, you know you're on probation here. Too much screwing up and you're out on your ass. There's a hundred kids from the schools around here who would love to have a job. And one of them might just be getting yours."
Joey and Mr. James had not hit it off from the beginning. Joey's mom or step-father had known someone, and they had pulled some strings to get Joey this job. Mr. James was not happy about it. He had some friends whose kids needed jobs, and he did not appreciate that the store's owner had pulled rank on him. Mr. James was right about everyone needing a job around town. Things were slow. Some big companies had up and left, leaving many families scrambling to make ends meet. He had a hundred reasons not to like Joey, and he would use any one of them to get rid of him.
Joey knew what the situation was from the beginning, and that had made him uncomfortable with this job. He really needed the money, wanting to save for college, but not being able to get enough to run away from the childhood he desperately wanted to forget. He felt his family didn't care about him, he didn't have any best friends that were close enough to swear allegiance to, and he didn't show too much interest in girls, which was fine by him because the girls that he had met weren't too interested in him. Joey wanted out and any way would be fine by him.
"If that's the way it's going to be, why don't you just cut my final paycheck and I'll be gone. I'll pick it up tomorrow morning."
"Fine. Get your things and go. Your check will be ready by 11:00."
Joey pulled the apron off and threw it on the desk. He grabbed his backpack, tosed it over his back, and pushed his way past the man and out the back door to his bike.
Joey walked his bike across the highway to the beach, stopping at the end of the sand. He sat down on a beach and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The end of his exhale became ragged. He realized that what he had just done.
"Great," he thought to himself. "I've really fucked up this time." There went one of the few jobs that he knew about in town. It hadn't been great, but it had been money, and just a couple more months of torture would have been enough for him to make his break. He stopped the tears before they came out. He looked up at the ocean, watching the surfers on one of the big waves. "What am I going to do now?"
He got up, got on his bike, and slowly started pedaling up the coast towards home.
Chapter 6
Stephen turned the key in the door of the motel room. He shotputted the suit case onto the bed, and swinging around, dropping his food, drink, and keys onto the table sitting near the window. He looked out the window for a second and saw nothing but ocean, admiring the power of the waves as they crashed onto the shore not 100 feet away. He pushed the door shut with his foot. The door clicked with a snap, sounding like a prison cell's door, the one he kept himself locked away in, away from his pain. He collapsed in the chair. He slid down, his chin resting on his chest. Over and over again, the face of Scott, the six year old wearing a baseball uniform flashed through his head. The grin with the missing tooth. The eyes shining. Stephen could still feel the day that picture was taken. But now, the little boy morphed into a young man. Instead of a baseball bat, he held a sandwich. Instead of a uniform, it was an apron. The picture began morphing back and forth, faster and faster until the two became as one. Stephen could not bear to see the face any longer, crying out, "God, no!!!" He tried to run away from the scene, but his legs failed him and he only fell onto the floor. There he cried for a long while, until the tears were all gone and the only sound was the perpetual crashing of the waves outside his door.
When he stopped crying, he lifted himself from the floor, took the room key, and began to step outside to talk a walk on the beach. Sunset was still a couple hours away. The fresh air had to help him clear his mind.
Down the coast, a figure pedaled his bike slowly up the highway. Joey had no place to go. If he went home, his mother would be suspicious of his early return. Even though she never showed her love for her son, she did care about him. Even though they never kissed or hugged, she was interested in his life enough to know what he was doing. She would know something was up if he walked in the house now because she knew his work schedule better that he did. So Joey knew that he couldn't go home, not yet. He really didn't have any friends to hang out with, most of them would be at the beach surfing now. But there was one place where he knew that he would be welcome. He had been invited. But Joey was a very cautious person, slow to warm to people and protective of his feelings. "Once burned, twice shy." Yet, he felt that it would be safe to just show up. "Come on down to the beach...I could use some company." So Joey turned his bike towards Ocean Manor.
Stephen walked out of his room, and down the few steps to the sidewalk. He turned left and started to mix into the crowd. People sightseeing, some joggers, bladers, and even one or two bikes wove their way along the shore. Stephen didn't look at the faces, hoping that he could remain anonymous. He didn't want people looking at the bloodshot eyes that had just recently cried so hard for his lost loves. He had walked about two blocks when suddenly he realized that he was in the clear. The next person ahead of him was a distance away. It was a boy on the bike. But even at this distance, Stephen could see that the boy was staring directly at him. Their eyes locked onto each other, and once again, Stephen felt a swelling of emotions rise in him. Stephen stopped walking and just leaned on the seawall. He waited as the bike slowed, finally stopping a couple feet away.
"I see you decided to take me up on my offer. I'm Stephen Andrews," as they shook hands. "I thought you said that you couldn't come until tomorrow."
"I changed my plans. Or someone changed them for me," Joey replied as he took his helmet off, the soft brown hair that had attracted Stephen appearing.
"Someone changed them for you?" Had someone hurt this boy? Stephen was already protective of him.
"Yeah, my boss. He and I didn't get along anyway. We both wanted me out of there and it's done."
"Why don't we go back to my motel. There's still plenty of sunlight. We can sit out and talk about it, that is, if you want to."
"Not really much to say," shrugged Joey. That was the truth. Everyone who knew Joey, knew he never said any more than he had to. "But your place sounds like as good a place to hang as any."
The two turned and walked up the sidewalk back to the motel. Stephen led the way as they approached his room. He fished in his pocket for the keys, and noticed that a part of him that he generally ignored was beginning to get in the way. He hoped that this kid wouldn't see the effect he was having on him.
As Stephen put the key in the door, he said, "Bring your bike into the room.
Sure don't want to leave it laying around."
Joey followed Stephen in. As he entered, the first thing he saw was the sandwich sitting on the table. After he parked his bike, he nodded at his work. "You know, that is one expensive sandwich. Actually, it's priceless.
It's probably the last sandwich I'll ever make. When my step father finds out I lost my job, he'll kill me."
"Maybe you should go ahead and eat it. I'm not really hungry, and a kid like you can probably eat five meals a day."
"Thanks. I'd like half. But I'd like you to eat it. I made it for you."
Ouch! Those five words were the last ones that Scott had ever spoken to him. The night before the accident, Scott had made a picture for his dad in art and had given it to him that night as Stephen had tucked him into bed. He had probably heard those words since, but this time they held a meaning much deeper.
Softly Stephen said, "Thank you." Stephen swallowed hard, fighting to control himself. Stephen had learned to keep his true feelings from everyone for as long as he remembered. But for some reason, this kid was able to push every button that made it hard to hide anything from him. Joey saw this.
"I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?"
"No. No. I'm just thinking of someone I knew a long time ago. Your voice reminds me of him." He should have added that everything Joey did reminded him of Scott.
"He must have been someone special."
"He was my best friend, the love of my life."
Stephen turned away from Joey. He wanted to keep Joey from seeing the pain. Obviously, what Joey had said hit a nerve deep him. It hurt them both.
That was the last thing Joey wanted for the first man since his father to show any interest in him. But neither of them had dropped their guard. Joey knew he had said something wrong, but what? And what did Stephen mean by "the love of my life." Did he mean a man or a woman? Joey had no clue.
Joey wanted to show him love, but Joey had never learned how to. How do you learn something that you've never been taught? He realized that Stephen did miss someone just as badly as Joey missed his father. Joey tried to reach into him the only way he could. By opening himself up and making him vulnerable to this man.
"I had someone like that once. Then I lost him. And it seems I've spent my whole life looking for someone like him," Joey softly said as he turned away from the man.
Stephen walked to the boy and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. When did you lose your dad?"
"I was five."
"Scott was six."
His son? Stephen is married? Where's his wife? And why did he come alone?
Joey turned Stephen so they were face to face. Stephen's hands rested on Joey's arms just below the shoulder. He could feel the strength in the young man. Stephen was only a couple inches taller than Joey, but Joey hadn't filled out and so he seemed much smaller. Joey moved inside the arms and hugged the man, reaching around his side and bringing his hands up to Stephen's shoulder blades, pulling him down to Joey. Stephen let his arms close around Joey's back, gripping him firmly. His hand ran up and down Joey's back, stroking him. They pulled their bodies together and held each other in an embrace that radiated love. They held on as if their lives depended on it. And each of them wished that it would be forever.
Finally, the two men broke their embrace. Where they had been strangers at the beginning of the hug, there now stood two men who shared a common bond. One of pain and of loss. And as the Phoenix had risen from the ashes, so too had this pain which was buried so deep in each of them risen again as love. They stood back to stare into each other's eyes, but not letting go, afraid that if they lost the physical contact, their love for each other would just as quickly dissolve and they would be strangers again.
"Why don't we go outside and enjoy the sunset?" Stephen suggested.
Joey nodded his head. He would do anything for Stephen. They walked out the room and across the sidewalk to the beach. A beach towel was spread on the sand. Stephen sat upright and motioned Joey to come sit beside him. Joey sat in front of Stephen, resting his back on Stephen's shins. Stephen ran his hand through Joey's hair, stroking him gently, lovingly. The hair that had first gotten his attention was now in his fingers. Stephen wanted more than this. He spread his knees and began pulling Joey back into his chest. Joey readily complied with the unspoken request, pushing himself back against Stephen. Joey leaned back, Stephen leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the boy. Each thought to themselves that it would take an army to separate them now.
Joey turned his head up and back, to the man who had finally given him the love he wanted. He kissed the cheek of the man who held him. Stephen was startled by the gratitude shown him. But it also created a reaction for each of them that neither of them expected.