How does one describe three days and two nights spent alone with the person you love most? I considered that as Trevon and I traveled home from San Diego on the bus. Trevon was asleep, his head resting on my shoulder, giving me time to reflect.
I could tell about the wonderful day we spent at SeaWorld, but we didn't get there. I could tell about the movies we watched on TV, but we never turned it on. I could tell about the romantic dinner for two at the restaurant on the pier, but it didn't happen. Once Terrell had us set up in the condo, all we did was eat, sleep, screw, walk on the beach, and plan for our future together.
We'd stopped at a grocery store when we arrived in La Jolla. Terrell helped us shop for food for three days. He knew what he was doing, that cooking would be a low priority, that we needed TV dinners, frozen breakfast foods, and snacks to take with us to the beach. We supplemented that with fast foods from places we could walk to and an occasional trip to the corner market.
Hand in hand, we walked Black's Beach from one end to another, watching the surfers and seagulls, sometimes stopping at the clothing optional beach to lie naked in the sun and have sex if no one was looking.
We spent hours on the balcony at the condo, talking about our past, our dreams for the future, our likes, dislikes, family, what we wanted to do for careers - the topics were endless, and we covered most of them. When we were finished, I knew everything there was to know about Trevon. The only thing I withheld from him was the abuse that Mom and I received from my father - "Dad" wasn't a word I could use for him. That topic would have to wait until later. Right now, it was what I'd face after I got home, and I couldn't talk about it.
At night, we screwed ourselves silly. I learned everything Trevon knew, and we supplemented it with things I'd learned from Makaio. We also did research online. Sometimes our experiments ended in failure and laughter. More often, they ended with orgasms to die for.
Trevon woke up as we pulled into the bus station. Gramps and Grams were there to pick us up. The four of us would be having dinner with Terrell and Molly that night, and Trevon would be staying with me overnight. I'd already said my goodbyes to Hunter, Jalen, Khan, Tuan, Harold, Phil and Jasmine.
By mid-morning the next day, I'd be on a plane enroute to Twin Falls. I never looked forward to that after a visit with my grandparents, but this year was even worse. For a while, I'd have to live on memories, texts, and phone calls.
Dinner was a somewhat subdued event. Terrell and Molly had prepared a great seafood dinner, but I ate lightly. We talked a lot about what had happened in the past two weeks - as much as we could in that mixed group. I realized at least half of what Trevon and I had done together would have to be our secret.
As we left to retire next door, I took the opportunity to thank Terrell for all of the things he'd done for me. He put his hand on my shoulder.
"TJ, it has been my pleasure. You are a truly good person, and your relationship with Trevon is making both Molly and me very happy. I know your grandparents feel the same way. We look forward to seeing you again next year, and hopefully you'll be our son-in-law someday. With that in mind, please feel free to call me 'Dad'."
He couldn't have known the impact that would have. I gave him a big hug to hide my tears.
"Thanks very much, Dad. You have no idea what that means to me."
When Trevon and I went to my room, I handed him the butt plug.
"Makaio gave me this to return to you. However be advised, it's no longer new."
He smiled. "Okay, I won't ask how well-used, and I think you oughta keep it for a souvenir."
I laughed. "Okay, I'll do that. I'd display it on my study desk, but like almost everything else I'm taking home, it will be for my eyes only."
We crawled into bed and he put his arms around me. That's when it all caught up with me. I wouldn't be feeling those arms again for a long time. The tears flowed quietly for several minutes while he kissed me and gently ran his fingers over my back and neck.
"Trev, right now I don't know what I'm gonna do without you. I know I'll get it together in a few days, but it's gonna be damned hard."
He kissed me again. "Fortunately, we have modern technology to help. We'll use all of the communication tools available. You'll get by, and so will I."
I rolled over onto my back. "Please make love to me, but be gentle tonight."
Gramps, Grams and Trevon took me to the airport. We tried to make small talk, but small talk doesn't work when the topics of importance are huge. Then it was time for me to go through security. I gave Gramps and Grams a big hug, and Trevon a much longer one, all with promises to text them when I got home. Then I turned and walked away without looking back. If I'd looked back, I would have lost it entirely.
Once at the gate, I settled down somewhat. I'd done this part many times. This year for the first time, I wasn't on the unaccompanied minor program, for which I was thankful. It was a complication I didn't need right then. It wasn't a long wait before boarding was called for Delta flight 2374 to Twin Falls. Once on the plane, I settled in for the four-hour one-stop flight.
As the plane descended into Joslin Field, I looked out over the familiar countryside. I could spot my parents' ranch and the neighboring ranch that was Mom's brother's. Technically, both were in revocable trusts and still belonged to Gramps and Grams. I identified the high school, the fairgrounds - all of the places I was familiar with. The world around Twin Falls hadn't changed, but the person returning was not the one who'd left two weeks earlier.
Mom was a few minutes late meeting me at the airport. When she got there, I immediately got clues as to why. I gave her the usual hug, and carried my pack and suitcase to the car, saving my observations until we were on the short drive home.
"He's drinking again, isn't he?"
The usual excuses began. "Travis, your father has a lot on his mind. He does his best..."
"How did you get the black eye, Mom?"
She looked out the window and was silent. I wasn't.
"Mom, this has gotta stop."
She glanced in my direction.
"You've changed. Mom said you had. You're much more aggressive than you used to be."
"No, Mom. The word is 'assertive'. My father is aggressive. That's not how I'm gonna be."
We were silent the rest of the way home. Things were not off to a good start.
I carried my baggage to my room and then returned to the kitchen.
"That's not the only way I've changed, Mom, and I'm not gonna beat around the bush. It became very clear to me over the last two weeks that I'm gay. Not that I didn't know it before, but I'm through denying it."
She sat down at the kitchen table. I sat down across from her.
"I've suspected that for a long time. You have to keep it quiet though. Your father..."
"No, I'm not gonna keep it quiet. I will be who I am."
"You need to resist it. It says in the Bible..."
"I've heard all of that before, and I don't wanna go there. Now, here's the next part. This is a picture of me and my boyfriend - the person I love and plan to spend my life with."
I pulled the picture of Trevon and me out of my wallet and showed it to her.
"You don't have to be happy about it, but you gotta know."
"But he's black."
"And?"
She was silent.
"What happened to 'God created us all equal'?"
"Well, this is different."
I stood up. "I'm sorry we got off to a bad start. I'll quietly resume my life now. But I'm gonna be open about my sexuality and my future partner. You needed to know first because others will soon. My sperm donor will undoubtedly find out, and I'll deal with that when the time comes."
"Travis, this is all so sudden. How can you be so certain in only two weeks."
"Mom, believe me. I know."
I took my bags to my room and began to unpack. One of the first things out of the suitcase was a cardboard tube. I unrolled the poster and looked at it for a long time. I needed this visible reminder of my love for Trevon. I'd get it mounted soon, but it was going on my bedroom wall. I got a roll of masking tape and put it up as neatly as I could. Then I stood back and looked at it, and smiled for the first time that day.
I'd barely begun to unpack when the kitchen door slammed. I heard Mom and my father.
"Where's Travis? I need some help. Vacation is over and he needs to get to work."
"Don, please give him a few minutes to unpack. He just got home five minutes ago."
"That's long enough."
He came into my bedroom. "Get your lazy ass out there and get to work. You've been fucking around for two weeks being pampered by your mother's parents. Now get out there and help me."
I turned to look at him, realizing for the first time that we were now the same height.
"Gee, I'm glad to see you, too. How have things been?"
I'd never said anything like that before. He was stunned. Mom hovered outside the door.
"Shut your smart ass mouth or I'll smack you into the middle of next week."
I crossed my arms. "Will you? Maybe you won't any more."
That's when he saw the poster. "What the fuck is that?"
"That's a poster created by a friend. It's my boyfriend and me, if you really wanna know."
I thought he was going to have a heart attack. Maybe it would have been better if he had.
"You're a faggot? And your boyfriend is a nig..."
"Don't ever say that word in my presence."
He caught me by surprise. The slap to my face spun my head around and left my ears ringing. This wasn't the first time. Normally, he'd smack me a couple more times and I'd collapse on the floor in tears where he'd kick me once or twice. Then Mom would intervene and he'd slap her around, too. The next day we'd all pretend it didn't happen.
This time was different. My right fist to his stomach was unexpected and knocked the wind out of him. As he staggered backwards, bent forward, my left fist hit him square in the nose. He lurched into an upright position, blood streaming down his face, and my right to his jaw laid him out flat on the floor. Blood spattered on the carpet and the wall.
Mom rushed into the room. "Oh my God, Travis! What have you done? Don, let me help you get up." She grabbed one of my shirts and held it to his face. "I need to get you to the hospital."
She led him to the kitchen. I could hear water running.
"Here. Put this wet towel over your face. Now let me help you out to the car."
The door slammed and there was silence. I stood shaking for a minute while the adrenaline dissipated. Then my brain began to function again.
I couldn't stay there. I knew what would happen at the hospital. Mom would explain that there had been this accident. They'd patch him up. Then they'd come home and it would start all over again with even more hell to pay.
I'd have to take this step at a time. The first step was to break the cycle of abuse. I reached for my cell phone, still shaking. I was glad my cousin Josh was on speed dial.
He answered on the first ring. "TJ! I'm glad you're back. How was the trip?"
"Josh, I need your help, and I need it now."
There was a two second pause. "What's going on?"
"I gotta go to the police station and I gotta do it right now. Can you take me?"
There was no hesitation. "I'll be there in five minutes."
During those five minutes, I set my evolving plan in motion. I dumped the contents of my suitcase and pack on my bed. I selected the items I needed to take with me and put them in my pack. The video and butt plug went in first, followed by necessary clothing and personal items. When I was finished, I shouldered my pack and started to leave the room, and then looked back. The poster was still on the wall. I rolled it up, put it in it's cardboard tube, and took it with me. I knew what I would do with it.
As I walked out the kitchen door, Josh drove up in his restored 1954 Chevy pickup. He was seventeen, and his driver's license was a little over a year old. Even prior to that, he and his dad had been working on the project. It was a work of art.
I climbed into the cab with my pack. Josh took one look at the left side of my face and figured it out.
"He's back at it again, isn't he?"
"Yes. It didn't take long, but this is the end of it. I'm filing an assault and child abuse complaint and reporting spousal abuse, too."
For the ten minutes it took to get into town, I outlined the events since I'd returned. I told him I was gay, a fact which didn't surprise him. I withheld the information about Trevon due to lack of time. By then we were at the police station.
"Can you wait for me?"
He didn't hesitate. "Of course."
"Thanks. While I'm in there would you please take my debit card and get me some cash from my checking account? Five hundred would be good. When you get back, you can look for me inside or wait in the truck, whichever you wish."
I knew what the answer would be. "I'll come inside."
I stepped up to the receptionist's window in the police station. As a high school basketball player and a life-long resident in a small town, I was fairly well-known.
"Hi Travis. May I help you?"
"I need to file an assault complaint."
She looked at my face.
"Does this involve child abuse?"
"Yes."
She opened a door for me to enter the secure area and led me to an interview room.
"Please fill out this form describing the assault. Please be as detailed as possible and include background information if you can. It will help the investigation. Will you be returning home?"
I lied. "No. I'll be staying with my aunt and uncle temporarily."
"Please fill out this contact form too, then. An officer will come in soon to talk with you."
I completed the form with all the details of the assault. I included general comments about previous incidents, a couple of which were on file, thanks to observant teachers. I also mentioned spousal abuse, but I knew in the end that was up to Mom.
The investigating officer read my report and asked a few questions. While a photographer took pictures of my face, he spoke to someone in the hallway.
"It's good that you reported this quickly, Travis. I have an officer on the way to the hospital right now to do a preliminary interview with your parents, and perhaps the medical personnel. I see you've provided contact information. We'll be getting back to you within a day or two to follow up. There will probably be more questions to answer then. Do you have any questions?"
"No, I don't. Thanks very much for your assistance."
"Okay, you're free to go."
He led me to the front office and let me out into the lobby where Josh waited.
Once in the truck, I checked the time. It was five o'clock. I'd been back less than three hours and I was leaving again.
"Josh, I need you to take me to the Flying J on the freeway."
He hesitated. "TJ, do you know what you're doing?"
"Yes, I do. But I'm not gonna tell you the details. I don't know all of them yet myself. I told the officer at the police station I was staying with you. I'm not. Please tell your parents I'm sorry to have involved them that way. Some of what I'm gonna do you can guess, but I want you to be able to say 'I don't know' and not have it be a lie."
He started the pickup and headed north on Highway 93.
"You've changed a lot in two weeks, TJ. And I like the changes. You've taken too much shit at home, and I'm glad you're dealing with it. But wouldn't it be better to stay here and do that? I know you'd have the full support of my parents."
"I considered that. There are several reasons for not doing that, and it's part of what I'm not gonna tell you. There's so much that happened in California this year. I was looking forward to telling you all about it, but that will have to wait for now. The bottom line is that I can't stay here."
We were crossing the Perrine Memorial Bridge. I looked down into the Snake River canyon. This was one of my favorite spots. I wondered when I would see it again.
Josh pulled into the Flying J and parked. "I wish you'd reconsider."
I leaned over and gave him an awkward hug. "I can't. I gotta do what I gotta do. I'll let you know as soon as I can what I'm doing."
I stepped out of the pickup and grabbed my pack.
Josh handed me the cardboard tube. "TJ, you forgot something."
I gave him a half smile. "No, I just forgot to tell you what to do with it. It contains a poster - a work of art made from a photograph. When you get home, take it out and look at it. This picture is truly worth a thousand words. It will explain everything. Then put it away in your closet. Later, you may wish to do something else with it."
Josh smiled back. "Thanks, I'll do that. Good luck."
"Thanks a lot, Josh. And thanks for all you've done for me this afternoon, not to mention in the past."
"No problem."
I shut the door and he drove away.
I was going back to my grandparents' home. I knew there were things that had to be sorted out in Twin Falls, but the place to do that from was California. I was not running from the law - I had no concerns about assault charges over what was clearly self-defense. What I was running from was the bureaucracy. I had no intention of remaining in my parents' custody under any conditions. I had no desire to sink into the abyss of child protective services. It was time to become as independent as possible and there was one route to do that - with the people who saw me as an adult.
I didn't want to be found until I was ready. I had already rejected public transportation from Twin Falls - I was too well known. Air travel was out - it required parental permission forms. I had my fake ID, but the air travel system was too careful about things like that. I would hitchhike, at least for the first leg of the journey. Then I'd try the fake ID on ground transportation. If it didn't work, I'd go back to using my thumb.
The logical route was to Salt Lake City and then southwest. I chose the illogical. I would go northwest to Boise or further, catch a Greyhound, and make my way south through Oregon.
I could either stand at the truck stop exit or the freeway entrance. The first would require a sign - for the second it would be helpful. I'd forgotten two useful items - a piece of cardboard and a felt-tipped pen. I looked in the trash can and found a used sign. It said Portland. Fine. That was where I would go.
I positioned myself at the truck stop exit. Several trucks and cars came and went. It would be dark soon. I needed a ride before then.
It came to me suddenly, and I smiled. I had one asset I hadn't yet used - my "beautiful body", as Makaio had called it. I took off my shirt and put it in my pack. Two trucks drove by. The third stopped.
The young driver looked down at me, somewhat tentatively. I saw him recoil slightly when he saw the handprint on my face, but the recoil was followed immediately by a look of determination.
"We can give you a ride as far as Troutdale. That's on the east edge of the greater Portland area."
I didn't know squat about greater Portland or Troutdale. I'd check maps later.
"Thanks a lot."
"Step up on the other side and get in the passenger seat. We'll talk more once we're underway."
I got seated with my pack in front of me. "Thanks again for your help."
He put the truck in gear and moved forward. The truck gained speed on the freeway entrance ramp. When he was on the freeway, he turned to me.
"I'm Cody. My dad, Keith, is back there sleeping." He indicated the sleeper unit behind the seats. "We drive as a team. We've done that for three years since I got my CDL, but now that I'm twenty-one, we do more cross-country." He paused. "I couldn't help noticing the hand print on your face."
"I'm Travis. My father assaulted me. It happens regularly. I'm headed to my grandparents' home and plan to sort it out from there."
There was a rustle as the privacy curtain moved behind me. It opened in the center between the seats, and a gruff-looking man peered out, first at me, then at Cody.
"I thought I heard another voice up here. Cody, what did I tell you about hitchhikers?"
"Dad, look at his face. That's why I picked him up. He just started to tell me about it. Travis, this is my dad, Keith."
Keith looked at my face, and his gruff appearance softened.
"Okay, Travis. Tell us about it."
I started over and spilled my guts. I might as well have been reading the form I filled out at the police station. When I was done, Keith was quiet for a few moments.
"Okay, here's the deal. We're private contractors, so we have a little more latitude than some truckers. I understand Cody's decision and support it, although it might not be the one I would have made. We'll get you to Troutdale."
I was grateful. "I'm sorry to be stretching your policy. Thanks very much for your assistance."
Keith was no longer gruff, but he was a man of few words.
"You're welcome, Travis. Cody, we'll switch at the truck stop in Ontario."
With that he closed and latched the curtain.
Cody and I spent the next two hours talking. I learned he was from Wyoming, and that his background wasn't much different than mine. He'd been raised on his grandparents' ranch and had taken up truck driving with his dad after graduating from high school.
He learned about me too, minus any more details on the child abuse. I left out any mention of where I was really going, and let him think Portland was my destination. I suffered from paranoia, no doubt, but I would keep things to myself for the time being.
After our conversation wound down, I got out my cell phone. The battery was low. I got out my charger.
"Is there a place I can plug this in?"
"Sure, right there in the dashboard."
The first thing I did was send overdue texts to the grandparents and Trevon. All I said was that I'd returned safely and I'd tell them more later. Then I did some surfing for public transportation. What popped up was something I'd never thought of - Amtrak Coast Starlight, Portland to Los Angeles. Less than two hundred dollars. I'd risk the ID problem. With roomette, around six hundred dollars. One roomette was available the next day. I took it and charged it to my new credit card.
It was dark now, and cooling off in the truck cab. I realized I hadn't put my shirt back on. I pulled it out of the pack. Cody looked over to see what I was doing. He grinned at me.
"We're not formal here. Shirts and shoes aren't required."
"I was getting a little chilly."
"I'll turn up the heat."
I smiled to myself and put the shirt back into my pack. Cody had more than one reason for giving me a ride.
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