All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language, please exit now.
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"THE PASSION OF MATTHEW"
Copyright Ritchris 2005
A story by
Ritch Christopher
literary enhancement by
Les Martin
Chapter One
Hank Lazarus was sitting up in bed with his upper torso propped against the headboard of the bed. Lance, with whom he'd just made love, had eased up to rest his head against Hank's chest. With his right hand, Hank stroked Lance Langley's blond tresses, then continued the motion, gliding down his shoulder and arm, stopping at his hand, which Hank grabbed to hold.
"God, you're beautiful," Hank sighed to him. "Your skin is so goddamned smooth, yet your muscles are as hard as you make my dick."
"They're no more firm and hard than the pecs on your chest. Your nipples are bigger and redder than mine," Lance replied. "You know, I feel so safe when I'm in your arms, as if nothing in this world or the next could ever harm either of us."
"It's just a fucking shame we can't be together all the time so that we could both always feel this safe."
"I just thank God for the moments we DO have together." His voice was quiet, rumbling in his chest.
"We could have a great life together if only you'd leave Lois."
"Hank, please don't ruin our afternoon by bringing up Lois or the situation I'm in."
"Lance, we've been meeting like this every Wednesday afternoon for over a year...once a week...always during the day and only for a few hours. We've never even spent one night together."
"I know, but Lois has mentioned going away for a week the month after next to Connecticut to see her sister's new baby if everything goes as scheduled. Then we can have a full seven days and nights to be together like this."
"Lance, you don't seem to realize how difficult Thursday is for me, knowing I have to wait until the next Wednesday. I'm a single man and I have manly needs. I don't have a wife to sleep next to every night."
"Hank, you know Lois and I don't have sex any more. She never liked sex, right from the start of our marriage."
"I've been faithful even though it's been unbearable to go without you or anyone else the remaining six days of the week. Doesn't it mean anything to you when I say I love you and want you all to myself all the time?"
"I know you've been patient, Hank, and I love you even more for it, but if Lois finds out about us, you know her old man will fire me. She'll slap me with alimony and I won't get a dime of her money."
"Does Lois' money mean more to you than I do?"
"Of course not, silly, but when the moment is right and I can find a way to make it look like the divorce is Lois' fault...I...that is, YOU and I could be losing hundreds of thousands of dollars. We could have anything and everything we wanted together. The money would be yours and mine. I hate it that Lois goes out of town only one day a week to visit her mom in the nursing home. If there were more days...even a weekend when you and I could spend more time together..."
"I realize that, babe, but my patience is growing thinner every week. I want you to be mine even if we have to live in a small flat and drive my truck."
"Why settle for less when we could have so much more?"
"You're all that I want, but apparently, I'm not enough for you." Hank's disappointment was all too obvious.
"Hank, sweetheart, you're more than enough for me. No one in the world could make love to me the way you do. You're cock is so strong and massive. That's why I scream whenever you enter me and cry when you pull it out."
"I was going to wait until it was time to leave to tell you this, but, well, I'm going away for a month or two...maybe three."
"WHEN and WHY, for God's sake?"
"Money, what else? I need tuition for my senior year at the University. My dad has gotten me a job on one of his construction projects for the summer. I'll be making over forty dollars an hour plus overtime, which means I could be taking home between fifteen hundred and two-thousand dollars per week!"
"But what about our Wednesday afternoons?"
"They'll just have to wait, to be put on hold until I get back. Lois and her dad's money, plus his holding your job over your head, is important to you and my dad's getting me this summer job is tantamount to my getting my degree."
"But when will you be leaving?"
"This weekend in order to begin work bright-eyed and bushy-tailed come Monday morning."
"Hank, this isn't fair! You could have warned me...given me some kind of time to get used to the idea of your being away. Where will you be? How far away? Maybe when Lois goes to Hartford, I could slip away and meet you there for our full week together?"
"I don't know if that's possible. I'm going to a little town called Philemon, Georgia. I don't even think there's a motel or hotel around for miles."
"Then where will you be staying?"
"My dad has arranged with the foreman for me to stay at his house, me and four other guys. It'll be like a stag dorm, so to speak."
"No wives, no daughters or girlfriends?"
"Absolutely no females for miles, not even a small town whorehouse, so please retract your jealous claws. I don't think I'll be having any affairs of any kind unless I become ambidextrous and learn self-indulgent proficiency with my left hand as well as my right and you know better than to imagine I could ever be turned on by another guy, not even if he looked like Brad Pitt with the sexual prowess of Colin Farrell!"
"No, my darling, you being alone with other men is the least of my worries."
"So what are you going to do on Wednesday afternoons while I'm away? Let your fingers do the walking in the Yellow Pages under college studs and find my replacement?"
"Hank, you know you're the only one I love. I've had no feeling toward Lois in years."
"...just Lois's money, huh?"
"Yes, but I don't have to have sex with her to get her money. I told you, sex between her and me was been over a long time before I met you."
"Suppose it hadn't been me who Lois hired to do your landscaping...would you have fallen for any yard boy?"
"Not unless he looked like you with your big naked chest and bulging muscles...but on the other hand, if someone like Brad Pitt with Colin Farrell's sexual prowess SHOULD cross my path...!" Lance joked.
"Then I suppose you'd have to come visit me on death row at the state pen after I killed him."
"Hank, I'll miss you so much and there will be no one to take your place in my life. Just work hard, make lots of money, and hurry home to me. In two months, who knows, Lois might be out of the picture and there would be only us..."
"That's what I dream about the other six days of the week when we're apart. I think about it every day that I'm gone."
"Then maybe I'd better give you something to remember me by, if you think you can get it up again."
"You know I can get it up any time you want it."
"Then lay your head back on the pillow, close your eyes, and I'll give you a blow job you'll remember ALL summer."
"I remember every one from each Wednesday until the next."
"Not like the one you're about to get, lover."
Lance slid his head down to Hank's crotch area and began to make love to him. In a matter of minutes, Hank was screaming loudly in sheer rapture.
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Hank's major in college was geology, but he was a whiz at math as well, which suited his new job, surveying the Georgia landscape for business construction. His primary job with the crew was to help map the route to lay a water pipeline from Conyers Lake to Philemon's main thoroughfare to supply water to the proposed new businesses planned for the microcosmic metropolis.
Mike Sawyer was the architect and foreman overseeing the project. In addition to Hank, two industrial engineers, Bob Kramer and John Foxwell, a steam fitter, Art Boswell, and a expert topographer, Jim Cummings, would be staying at Mike's prefab house. Ten or fifteen other workers would be living in an adjacent building built to resemble an army barracks, housing all of them in one large room with bunk beds with a large semi-private multiple stalled shower and three commodes separated by plywood stalls with no doors.
The skeleton crew's primary job was not to construct the pipeline but only to complete the architectural plans and present their findings to the Georgia Legislature at the end of the summer in order to facilitate the appropriation of funding for the project, making the Philemon, now just a 'wide place in the road' into a township, drawing businesses and potential residents.
Bob and John had been roommates at M.I.T. until graduation. Both had married soon thereafter and each had one child...Bob, a three-year-old son, and John, a three-year-old daughter. Both men were in their mid-twenties and had bought houses in Boston only a block apart from each other. Since their wives and children lived so close to each other, and also because Bob and John would be working side by side on the project, it wasn't a big hardship to get them to leave their families and homes for the summer.
Art, a widower in his early forties, was from Atlanta. He and his wife had had no children, so there was no problem in his leaving home to come to Philemon, whereas Jim was the old man of the crew. He was fifty-five and had had a head of white hair since he was thirty-five. He was a confirmed bachelor and not gay. He had worked on many large projects, one of which had been financed by Donald Trump. For some time, he'd been considered one of the top men in his field. In the past he had been a workaholic, going from one big job to another until two unexpected heart attacks had slowed him down, almost to the point of retiring. Art had worked with Mike's father and had watched Mike grow from a playful tyke into a well-respected architect. Mike had talked Art into helping him with the Philemon project with the stipulation that Art would not work more than eight hours a day, due to his health. Art refused at first, but finally relented, as a means just to get his finger back into a proposed pie.
Bob, John, Jim, and Art had arrived in Philemon a week earlier than Hank. They were 'pros' in their field and each had a smidgen of doubt about working with an undergraduate surveyor like Hank. Hank's father, Martin Lazarus was also an investor and, from that position, had talked Mike into hiring his son for the summer, provided that Hank got no preferential treatment and Mike was to call Martin at the end of each week to report on Hank's work...good or bad. Martin's required weekly 'report' was unbeknownst to Hank, which was just as well, as Hank was already filled with mild trepidation about his first paying job plus leaving Lance, the one person in the world that he truly loved. Hank's mother had died of ovarian cancer when Hank was twelve and he had never known the love of anyone until he met Lance who was not only his lover, but had become friend, mentor, and substitute parent to Hank due to his mother's absence and his dad's seeming lack of concern.
Martin and Hank were father and son, but their relationship was distant. Martin knew that some day Hank would inherit the fortune he had accumulated, but offered his son very little financial support until such time when Martin would die and leave the wealth to his son...but not before. Martin was making Hank pay his own tuition at school, as he had worked for every dime of spending money while growing up...grocery bagging, delivering pizzas. When Hank was sixteen, he spent one summer helping to tar and pave roads, while another summer, Hank had actually dug ditches and cut grass alongside the Interstate highway.
Hank had had very little social life in his teens. His working chores made him too tired to go out on weekend dates and besides, he'd rather study or read books. He seldom went to movies, but instead, bought used DVD's for a few bucks and had acquired a fairly large library of movies which was his primary source of entertainment. His last job had been landscaping and yard work. One of his best customers was Lance Langley, a lawyer and real-estate broker who spent more time at his office than with his wealthy wife, Lois.
The first time Lance saw Hank, the new yard boy, weeding Lois' flower garden, with his shirt off and wearing cut-off jeans, Lance wanted him immediately. Lois was absolutely beautiful and Hank couldn't understand why she was a neglected housewife. It was only three weeks after he began working at the Langley house that Lance propositioned Hank and took him to bed to have sex while Lois was out shopping. Hank had always had the feeling he was gay and Lance quickly confirmed Hank's suspicion. Hank WAS gay and loved making love with his employer, when given the opportunity. When autumn rolled around, Lois had no need of a yard boy and there was no reason for Hank to visit the Langley estate, so Hank and Lance arranged to meet every Wednesday from fall to spring for a clandestine interlude at a very discreet motel. Then Hank learned about his father's plan for him to work in Philemon and the trysts would be coming to a halt, at least temporarily.
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Hank had driven his Jeep to Philemon, arriving Sunday evening just as Mike, Jim, Art, John, and Bob were getting ready to sit down for Sunday supper. The five of them greeted him with civility, but reserved judgment as they still had unanswered questions about his ability. They made a place for him at the long table while Mike spooned out six plates of a huge chicken pot pie he had just taken out of the oven. He had boiled ears of corn and opened a large can of green beans for side dishes. In a friendly manner, Art poured Hank a big glass of sweetened iced tea with loads of lemon.
The dinner conversation was mostly about the work planned for the next day. Hank, not really knowing what they were talking about as he hadn't seen what work had been done already, sat quietly and was all but ignored by the others and almost totally excluded from the exchange of views, ideas and information.
Supper was nearly half through when the sound of a blood-curdling cry came from another part of the house. Hank dropped his fork while the others paid little or no attention to the scream. Hank was not only alarmed, but puzzled.
"Hey, didn't you guys hear that?" Hank asked.
"Sorry, Hank," Mike said, "I suppose I should have warned you, but you'll get used to hearing that from time to time. You'll soon get used to it."
"It was a person...a man crying out!" Hank replied.
"Yes, Hank, it was my nephew, Matt. He...he sometimes eats with us, but most of the time he stays in his room. You see this empty plate beside me, here? That's for Matt. We always set him a place just in case he decides to join us."
"But...but is he all right? I mean, he sounded like he was in pain or needed some help. Shouldn't someone go see about him?"
"No, no, he screams like that all the time, but he has good reason to..."
"But...?"
"You'll meet Matt, Hank. He's in a bad way, but he manages."
"But...?"
"What's for dessert, Mike?" Jim asked, ignoring Hank's concern for Matt.
"Cherry cobbler...my mother's own recipe. She taught me how to make it when I was eight years old."
"Sounds good."
"Sit still, you guys, while I go get it." Mike got up from the table and went into the kitchen. Hank sat stiffly, still stunned by Matt's cry.
Art noticed the surprised look on Hank's face and said, "Don't worry, son, if Mike doesn't tell you about Matt, I'll make it a point to tell you all about it after supper. He's all right...well, that's not exactly the truth, he's not all right, but I'll explain later."
"We all had to get used to it in only a week," John said. "I guess I felt the same way you do, the first time I heard him scream."
"I nearly fell out of my chair the first time I heard him," Bob added. "Then, when I first saw him, I almost broke into tears. It's sad to see anyone in his condition, especially when you're not expecting it."
"Can you give me some idea before Mike gets back?" Hank asked nervously.
"Matt was Mike's brother's son. His dad and mom were both killed in a car wreck. Matt was around twelve years old at the time , when Matt came to live with his Uncle Mike. They got along real well during Matt's teen years. Mike did a good job raising him. When Matt graduated from high school, he joined the marines. He made corporal in no time at all. He loved the Marine Corps so much, he decided to make it his career. Then '9/11' happened and, for no reason I can think of, President Bush invaded Iraq and Matt's unit was one of the first to be deployed to the Middle East.
Matt had been in Iraq just about two months. One day while driving one of those Hummers, Matt got out to fill the gas tank. The official military report read that a small Iraqi kid walked up to Matt and Matt stopped long enough to reach into his pocket to offer the boy some chewing gum. The kid was carrying some kind of detonator and set it off and the Hummer's gas tank exploded. Matt received burns on ninety percent of his body. The explosion killed the kid and severed Matt's right leg at the knee and he lost his right arm at the elbow. If that wasn't enough for a nineteen year old to bear, it affected his mind. He lives the incident over and over in his mind constantly. He's tranquilized on pills most of the time. He often walks with a crutch. When Matt was sent home from the military, Mike had a choice of putting him into a home, but somehow, Mike loved Matt too much and wanted to keep him here where they could be together. The Marines said they would pay for reconstructive surgery on his face and the rest of Matt's body, but Matt was burned so badly that Matt just couldn't go through with it. The Corps DID pay for a prosthesis on Matt's stump of a leg and gave him therapy on how to use it. He can walk pretty good, but he doesn't like to be focused on and chooses to spend most of his time hidden away from the rest of us."
"How long ago did it happen?" Hank asked.
"Nearly three years ago. Matt's about your age...twenty-one or twenty-two, I guess." Art said.
Mike reentered the dining room just then, carrying a 12" x 9" metal pan. Each hand was protected by potholders. The aroma of hot cherries filled the room making each of the men's mouths salivate.
"Dip in while I go get the vanilla ice cream to top it off!" Mike said. He sat the cobbler in the middle of the table and went back into the kitchen. Everyone except Hank reached to grab a huge spoonful of the sugary crust and hot fruit almost at the same time.
"Can I ask a quick question before Mike gets back?" Hank said.
"Shoot!" replied Art.
"Was there no one at Mike's home to watch after Matt? I mean, why did he bring him with him on the job?"
"Mike takes Matt wherever he goes," Art said. "I don't know if it's a matter of Mike not trusting anyone else to care for Matt or if he just feels like he should always do it himself. They're inseparable and always have been since the incident."
"Doesn't Matt ever get outside or go anywhere?"
"Oh, yeah. When he thinks no one is looking, Matt likes to go outside for short walks. He likes to pick wild flowers and press them in a big album which belonged to his mother. Mike told me that when Matt's mother was alive, she had a huge flower garden...rose hybrids, mostly, and Matt helped her with them. I think flowers keep her memory alive to him. Then too, he loves to read novels. Mike bought him a big TV and a DVD player and Matt's world consists of living vicariously through the characters in the movies."
"I have a laptop DVD player and brought a box of my favorite movies with me since I didn't expect to find many entertainment outlets in Philemon. Maybe Matt would like to borrow some of them," Hank offered.
"I'm sure he would, son," Art said. "I even thought about signing him up with Netflix and letting him get movies of his choice, but he and Mike never seem to stay at one address long enough."
"OK, boys," Mike said, reentering, "hold your plates and let me put a dollop or two of this ice cream on your cobbler."
"Mike, this cobbler is delicious." Bob exclaimed. "Too bad I'm married or I might court you just to get the recipe!"
Everyone laughed.
"Hell, I'll give you the recipe. It's as easy as pie...pun intended." Mike replied. "Then again, if you're serious about asking me for a date, you might find out it wouldn't be worth it just to get a recipe. Now eat up before your ice cream melts completely."
Hank was a bit more relaxed after hearing about Matt and decided to dip into the cobbler pan to get the small portion that was left after the others had served themselves.
"Hank, as soon as you're finished, I'll let Bob and John take you to their room. The three of you will be sharing one bedroom for the summer. You're closer to their ages than Jim or Art. Jim has never been married so I'm not certain if he would try to attack you in your sleep or not," he joked.
"Mike, you old fart, I might never have married but I'm too old to begin liking young men at my age," Jim joked.
"Oh, yeah, then why did you try to get into my bed the other night?" Art retorted.
"I just plainly slipped up in the dark and went to the wrong bed when I got back from peeing."
"And here I thought you were trying to molest me. That's a fucking disappointment!" Art replied and everyone laughed out loud again.
"While I was in the kitchen, I heard everyone telling you a bit about my nephew, Matt. I wished they hadn't but you had to hear something anyway. Matt is fine while he's sleeping, but he wakes up having nightmares and screams out, just as you heard him earlier. I'll let you meet him tomorrow. Please don't make a face or a big to-do when you first see him. As the guys here probably told you, his face and most of his body are scarred from the gasoline burns and it's only natural that Matt feels self-conscious about his looks when meeting someone for the first time."
"I was telling the guys that I brought quite a few of my favorite DVD's with me in case I have any he hasn't seen," Hank offered.
"He might just take a liking to you, Hank, since he lives and breathes movies."
"I'll show him what I brought when I meet him."
"Great! Now we have a full day's work ahead of us tomorrow, so why don't you go with Bob and John and get settled in...that is, if I can get Art and Jim to help me with the dirty dishes."
"Art, are you gonna wear that apron again?" Jim joked. "I think you had it on the night I tried to get into your bed. That's what must've have turned me on."
"If that's the case, I'll burn the damned thing and never wear it again," Art answered with a wry grin.
"Come on, Hank, let's go unpack your car and get your gear," John said.
John and Bob followed Hank outside to his jeep and unloaded two large suitcases and three large boxes.
"Jesus Christ!" Bob exclaimed. "Did you bring everything you owned?"
"Just stuff I thought that would make my summer a bit more bearable."
"You didn't by chance bring any porn DVD's with you?"
"I'm afraid not. Most of my DVD's are used or second-hand and the sex-videos are never offered for sale in the bargain bins," Hank replied.
"Well, if you need some jerk-off material, John and I have a stack of girlie magazines. You see, John and I have been friends and roommates through college and we have no qualms about getting off in front of each other. I hope you're not offended and, if you feel the need...it won't bother us none if you have to relieve yourself, if you get my drift."
"I've never done anything like that with other guys. I have this woman back home that satisfies me," Hank lied.
"Yeah, but just the same, IF you feel you have to...go ahead, neither of us will think anything about it."
"Thanks."
The three of them went back into the house, carrying Hank's treasures from his jeep and walked down the narrow hall to a room, the second door from the end of the hallway. The last room was Matt's, John told Hank. They were halfway down the hall when Matt opened his door and stood there sizing up the new resident.
"Hey, Matt!" John said. "This is our new roommate, Hank."
"Hi, Matt!" Hank said. He was almost speechless as he got his first look at the young, scarred, amputee. Matt was wearing a prosthetic device which was attached to the stub of his right knee. The prosthesis was more like a metal pole with a running shoe attached at the end. Matt was wearing a shirt with sleeves just long enough to cover the stump of this right arm. Hank, being a movie buff, couldn't help but think of Freddie Krueger when he saw Matt's face which was indeed badly scarred. Oddly enough, the fire had not destroyed the hair on Matt's head and he had long brown tresses which helped to hide most of his forehead...resembling the way Edward Furlong wore his hair in most of his movies.
Matt didn't return Hank's, 'hello'. He took a long look at Hank and turned and went back into his room, closing his door behind him. Hank was almost relieved that the meeting was over, but the image of Matt would haunt him the rest of the night.
Hank didn't take time to unpack his suitcases as he had his essential toiletries, spare underwear, socks, cutoffs, and a couple of t-shirts in a special zip-up bag. There were three twin-size beds in the room. Bob and John's were closer to the window while Hank's was across the room against the opposite wall near the door. Hank excused himself to his new roommates to go to the bathroom to shower, shave, brush his teeth and try to have a BM as the long drive had left him constipated.
He had driven non-stop for over fourteen hours and was tired, yet excited about going to work the next day. These two factors made if difficult for Hank to sleep plus the fact he had never slept in a twin size bed in his life. He was restless and looked at his watch with the luminous dial. It was 1:35 AM. Bob and John had been asleep for over an hour. So Hank decided to get up and go to the kitchen to see if there was milk in the refrigerator to help him get to sleep. Success! There was a fresh gallon of milk and Hank got a glass from the cupboard and filled it to the brim. He sat at the table slowly sipping it when he suddenly saw Matt coming into the kitchen.
"Hi, Matt," Hank said, trying not to appear startled.
This time Matt managed a "Hi" back to Hank.
"Want some milk?"
"Maybe..."
"Are you hungry? I didn't know if you had supper or not."
"A little."
"Let me see if there's anything left from supper in the fridge."
"Don't bother. I'll look for myself."
"That chicken pot pie your Uncle Mike made was pretty tasty."
"I...I don't eat meat. I like vegetables but only if they're raw."
"Would you like me to see if I can make you a salad?" Hank asked, trying to be friendly.
"No, thanks...if I want something, I'll get it myself."
Hank couldn't decide if Matt was trying to be insulting or just independent, but he didn't reply. Matt opened the refrigerator, sliding open the crisper to retrieve a cucumber, a couple of carrots, and a tomato.
"Your name is Hank, right?"
"Yes,"
"I hate to bother you, but I can't seem to reach the saltines from the top shelf. I don't know who put them there. They're usually on the bottom shelf."
"Here, let me get them for you," Hank said getting up to get the box of crackers.
"Thanks."
"Wanna join me at the table?"
"That's stupid! Where else am I gonna eat...standing at the kitchen sink?"
"Sorry, I was just trying to be cordial."
"Cordial? What the fuck kind of word is that? Didn't you mean, 'friendly' or am I not the type you like to be friendly with?"
"Of course you are. I didn't mean anything by saying 'cordial'."
Hank almost offered to help bring the vegetables and crackers to the table for Matt but gave the idea a second thought. Apparently Matt didn't want to appear handicapped with only one hand, so he let Matt bring his own food to the table but Matt chose to sit at the far end, away from Hank.
"Why are you up? Aren't you starting work tomorrow?"
"Yes. I guess it was because I was in a strange place with strange surroundings..."
"And strange people sleeping next door to you."
"No...I..."
"Come on, Hank, admit it. Tell me how strange I look! Have you ever seen anyone freakier than I?"
"Sorry, Matt, but to me you're not freaky."
"Want me to take off my shirt and show you more of my scars? Maybe not, it might scare you so much you might never go to sleep."
"Matt, are you used to being the way you are?"
"What choice do I have?"
"Then I'll just get used to it, too. We ALL have scars, Hank, just some of them can't be seen."
"I suppose you're gonna tell me now about your abused childhood and all about how your parents took away your fancy car for a whole week."
"My 'fancy car' is a sixteen-year old Jeep CJ7 that I bought and paid for myself."
"I heard my uncle talking to Jim about your dad being one of the investors in the Philemon Project. That doesn't sound like you came from poverty."
"My dad never gave me a penny. What's mine is what I paid for by working."
"What about your mom?"
"My mom died over ten years ago."
"Well, at least we have something in common."
"I bet we have more in common than you can imagine."
"Like what?"
"I heard you're a big movie buff. I am, too."
"Big deal! That almost makes us brothers...You see, Hank, movies are very important to me. Since I've been back from the Marines, movies have become my life as I really don't have a life of my own. I live the plots of movies. I pick out a certain movie star or a character he's playing and I pretend I'm he. It might be only in my mind or imagination, but I feel as if I become who I'm watching. My life can be normal then, if only in my mind. I can go to many places, become many people, experience the excitement and action they go through. I can even fall in love with any star my role model does. If he has sex, then I have the same kind of sex as he. If he dies, then I play like I'm dying."
"That's morbid, Matt."
"Oh, I'm not afraid of dying. I'm more afraid of living. Movies are all I have left in life to enjoy."
"When I was growing up, I had no close friends. Movies became my source of learning about other people. I guess my best friends were movie stars."
Matt couldn't decide if Hank was serious or if he was just playing along with him.
"Who were your favorites?"
"I liked Brad Pitt, Mel Gibson, Bruce Willis, John Travolta. Lately, I've become a big Colin Farrell fan. I also like Hayden Christensen from 'Star Wars'. Most recently, I've become a huge fan of Paul Walker."
"Did you ever see Colin in "Tigerland"?"
"That's the first Colin Farrell movie I ever saw. I even bought a used copy of the DVD for two bucks. How about, 'Phone Booth', 'S.W.A.T'. 'Hart's War', 'The Recruit' or 'Intermission'? I'm sure you've seen his 'Alexander'?"
"I haven't seen 'The Recruit' or 'Intermission', but all the others you mentioned, I have."
"I have used copies of all of them. As a matter of fact, they're in a box in my room next to yours..."
"You brought DVD's with you?"
"A big box full. Would you like to borrow them?"
"I...I don't know... well, yeah, I WOULD like to see 'The Recruit' and 'Intermission'.
"I have a new Colin Farrell I've never watched."
"What do you mean?"
"This video store where I buy my used movies...well, I worked there one Christmas and the manager gets demo copies sometimes...DVD's with a small hole punched in the label so that they can't be sold and just before I got in my car to drive down here, I stopped at the video store and the manager gave me a few demo freebies. One was "A Home At The End Of The World"...Colin's latest. Maybe we could watch it together. Someone said tonight that you had a big screen TV. All I have is a tiny laptop DVD player that plays around ten hours before I have to recharge the batteries."
"Maybe...if you're not afraid to sit in a room with a freak."
"Matt, please don't say that again to me. You're NOT a freak and, YES, I would love to watch a movie with you. I'll ask your Uncle Mike if he has some popcorn and we'll have a night at the movies...just the two of us. You see, I'm not used to watching movies with other people myself."
"Uncle Mike has plenty of popcorn. He buys it for me."
"Then it's all set then?"
"Yeah, but when?"
"I'm not sure of the work schedule, but I'm sure I'll have one night free next weekend."
"Do you think you'll stay in Philemon that long?"
"I'm here for the summer...like it or not!"
"Shit! By next weekend, you probably won't even be speaking to me."
"Uh uh! By next weekend, I hope we'll be friends."
"Don't count on it. I've never had a friend and don't know how to be one."
"That's two of us...we'll just have to learn what it means to have a friend...BOTH of us."
"How old are you anyway?"
"I'll be twenty-two in December."
"I was twenty-two in June. I guess with my skin, you can't tell how old I am."
Realizing that Hank was ignoring Matt's self-deriding tone, Matt said "I see that you've finished drinking your milk, so would you do me a favor and go back to your room? I like to eat alone."
"Sure, if that's what you want."
"It is."
"OK, Matt, I'll see you tomorrow after I get back from work."
"Don't be too sure. I only come out of my room when no one else is around."
"Someone said you liked to pick wildflowers?"
"Who the fuck told you that?"
"I don't remember who said it...but do you?"
"Do you want me to admit I do just so you can think I'm a faggot as well as being a freak?"
"No...I used to weed my mother's flower garden when I was a kid and that didn't make ME a faggot OR a freak."
"PLEASE LEAVE! You're upsetting me! You want me to holler out loud and wake up everyone in the house?"
"No, I'll go."
"GOOD!"
"Good night, Matt. It was nice chatting with you."
"Good night! I wish I could say the same...but...just go to bed, will you?"
"Sure!"
Hank wandered down the hall to his bedroom, leaving Matt alone in the kitchen to eat his raw vegetables. Hank was certain he heard Matt quietly crying after he left.
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Breakfast was served at 6:30AM. Having only had a few hours sleep, Hank was the last to arrive at the table. Luckily, he had showered and cleaned up before retiring which allowed him an extra thirty minutes in bed. Mike's strong coffee could be smelled all over the house. He had served four years in the Navy's kitchen and was used to cooking meals for large groups. Also, being a born Southerner, he made sure the table was filled with a variety of breakfast foods...too much perhaps for six men because each morning he cooked sausage, ham, AND bacon along with scrambled eggs, grits, hash-brown potatoes, and homemade biscuits with milk gravy. It was important to him since he felt that, if he expected a full day's work from his crew, they needed a hearty breakfast if they were to deliver their best performance on the job.
When Hank entered the dining area, Matt's place was set, but Matt was missing as expected. Bob, John, Art, and Jim were wide-awake digging into Mike's meal and talking away like a parrot family-reunion.
"Hey, sleepyhead!" Jim spoke to Hank as the others offered similar greetings.
"Morning!" Hank replied to all.
"Get all rested for a long day of surveying?" Mike asked.
"Enough, I guess..." Hank said.
"You'll see just how much is 'enough' come five o'clock this afternoon. The sun gets pretty hot 'round noon and you're gonna sweat gallons, so be sure and drink a lot of juice. It's fresh. I squeezed the oranges this morning." Mike said.
"Thanks."
"You don't sunburn easily, do you? I see you're wearing those jean cutoffs."
"No, my skin is like my mother's. Both of us used to stay in the sun all day working in her garden and neither of us ever burned. I'm used to it."
"Just the same, if you need some sunscreen, I have some in the first-aid kit in my truck. As you can see, the rest of us wear long pants."
"Thanks, but I think I'll be all right."
"Bob's snoring didn't keep you awake, did it?" John asked.
"I really didn't notice it."
"When we first became roommates at M.I.T., it took me nearly a month to get used to it. There were nights when he came close to getting smothered by a pillow."
"Bob, you are so full of shit! My wife has never complained about my snoring and I've wondered all these years if that was just something you made up. I never believed I kept you awake at college because I couldn't sleep because of the way you grind your teeth and smack your lips. I used to accuse him of dreaming about eating pussy from the noises he'd make while HE was sleeping."
"Now who's lying?" John retorted. "I don't eat pussy. I suck on it."
"Damn! If I had known that, I'd've given you something to suck on as a pacifier."
"In your fuckin' dreams...!"
"I...I got up to get a glass of milk and had a little midnight chat with Matt."
"You're kidding," Mike said. "That's a first. Matt don't take to strangers very quickly. What kind of mood was he in? I mean, he can get nasty and throw a few insults."
"It was a pretty good chat. We talked mostly about movies."
"That explains it. You hit Matt's mark by talking about movies and movie stars. I swear, if things hadn't happened to him the way they did, the kid would be in Hollywood right now, either trying to get into the movies or getting every movie star's autograph."
"I told him about my collection of DVD's I brought with me and I even asked if I could watch some with him on his big TV."
"What did he say?"
"He became rather enthusiastic about it."
"Don't bank on him being that way all the time. His mood can change in a moment's notice and he can become hostile. So be careful with him. Don't expect to see him in the same mood twice in a row."
"Hank might be good for Matt, Mike," Jim interjected. "They're both about the same age and both seem to have a common interest in movies."
"Jim may be right, Hank, but remember two things...always keep your guard up and don't ever cross him. I've seen him when he's violent. He can wreck a room quicker than a demolition ball."
"Thanks, I'll remember that and be careful."
"OK, now, as soon as everyone's finished eating, I'll tell you what we're gonna do today. So EAT UP!" Mike ordered.
The six guys were having a second cup of coffee before Mike began his work orders when unexpectedly, Matt came into the dining room and sat down. Everyone, including Mike, was stunned. Everyone wanted to greet Matt, but at the same time didn't want to call attention to his unplanned presence. Finally, Hank broke the silence by saying, "Good morning, Matt".
Without lifting his head or looking at anyone, Matt replied, "Morning, Hank."
Eyes around the table began to shift to each other's in a state of almost amazement.
"Would you like something to eat, Matt?" Mike asked him.
"...maybe some eggs and a biscuit," Matt replied quietly.
Bob, John, Jim, and Art all reached for the platter of scrambled eggs at the same time...each trying to be the one to serve Matt.
"Hank, would you pass me a biscuit, please?" Matt said.
"Sure, Matt, want some butter, too?"
"No, just one biscuit...please."
Jaws were dropped around the table in disbelief of what they were all observing. Hank placed a biscuit on his saucer and passed it to Matt. Having accomplished this feat, Hank thought it best if he served the eggs to Matt himself while the others sat watching this strange occurrence. Hank got up and took the egg platter to the side of Matt's chair and spooned out a small portion. Matt slowly lifted his head to make eye contact with Hank. Matt actually smiled...a small smile, but a smile just the same and said, "Thanks."
Mike could feel a lump forming in his throat and was just short of shedding a tear. Instead, he looked at Bob, John, Jim, and Art and said. "Guys, why don't we go out on the porch and talk about the plans. Hank, why don't you stay in here for a little while Matt has breakfast? If that's all right with everyone...?"
"Sure, sure, Mike, let's go now...maybe have another cup of coffee," everyone said all together. They got up and left the table to go outside on the porch. Hank sat down in Mike's chair, next to Matt.
Matt began to eat and looked at Hank. "I guess my coming to breakfast will fuck up their minds all day."
"Well, it seems it was a bit of a surprise, Matt."
"I saw the look on everyone's face...EVEN YOURS, and I almost broke out laughing. You all looked like Frankenstein's monster had entered the room."
"You didn't look like Frankenstein's monster. You weren't wearing a bolt through your neck." Hank said, taking a chance with a small joke.
"I didn't mean to say Frankenstein. I know I'm a dead ringer for Freddy Krueger."
"Goddammit, Matt, will you stop saying things like that about yourself while I'm around? I don't like it."
"I'm...I'm sorry...but it IS true. Don't try to convince me I don't remind you of Freddy."
"I won't because you don't!" Hank lied because Freddy Krueger was the first person Hank had thought of when he'd seen Matt for the first time last night.
Mike came back into the house carrying a small package.
"Hank, this just arrived for you by UPS."
"Thanks."
"And, oh, could I see you on the porch for just a second?"
"Huh? Sure. Excuse me, Matt, I'll be right back."
Hank followed Mike out the door.
"Listen, I've been talking with the guys about today's schedule and, well, I don't think I'm gonna need you to survey anything today. I...I know you still must be tired from your long drive...so...if you'd like to stay around here today and rest up...that'll be all right with me."
"Mike, I've worked many jobs already in my young life. I've had many bosses and I've always respected them as being my boss, but I've never called any of them a liar...but you're not telling me the truth, are you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You want me to stay here and spend the day with Matt, don't you?"
"All right, so you caught me! But...would you mind? I mean, when you go back in there he might have had a mood swing and order you to leave him alone. But I've never seen him act the way he did with you a while ago. The way he looked at you...he's never looked at me that way since I began taking care of him. Go slow...don't cross him...but see if he's honestly trusting you. You could be the friend he's never had. I know babysitting is not what I hired you for...but I can't get over what I just saw...and, YES, you'll get a full day's pay, in case you're wondering."
"That hadn't crossed my mind, but, yes, I WILL stay with him until he gets tired of me. Maybe if things don't go so well, I'll drive down and join you and the guys on the job."
"That's a deal. Remember...be careful with him and keep your guard up."
"I will."
Mike went out to his van to join the others. Before going back into the house, Hank opened the brown paper-wrapped parcel. Inside the box was a cell phone and a note.
'My darling, Hank. I'm sending you this as a way of our keeping in touch. Don't use it to call me, I'll call you in the evening when it's safe or when Lois's gone to bed or not around. I don't know how I'll live through this coming Wednesday without feeling your arms around me or feeling your manhood inside me. Please know that I already miss you and I love you with all my heart. Incidentally, since the phone bill will be sent to me, I'll know every call you make...so don't try to pull a fast one on me by calling someone who might take my place in your life! Please pray with me that the summer goes fast and you'll soon return to me. Ten Wednesdays without you will be eternity. I'll call you tonight. Love, L.'
Hank read the note again and took time to read the cell phone instructions before placing it back in the box. He took it to his bedroom and placed it in one of the empty dresser drawers which was designated for his clothes before returning to the dining room.
Matt had finished his eggs and biscuit when Hank reentered.
"Didn't I hear Uncle Mike drive off?"
"Yes, you did."
"Weren't you supposed to go with him?"
"I was...but he wanted me to stay here and...unpack my stuff and get settled in."
"That's a fucking lie and you know it. He wanted you to stay with me, didn't he. I guess when I came to breakfast he thought I'd gone berserk or something. I guess you two have put me on suicide watch!"
"Damn! You have to make something negative out of everything, don't you?"
"Do I have anything to be positive about?"
"Lots of things, but I'm not ready to tell you about them yet," Hank teased.
"So are you gonna sit by my bed and watch me all day? I think Uncle Mike has a set of restraints which they used to use on me to tie me to the bed, just in case you want to restrain me so you can go to work."
"Nope, I think I'm going for a walk. You could join me if you like."
"Walk where?"
"I don't know. I've been in Philemon less than a day. Maybe I'll go look for some flowers...the wild kind. I used to love to pick honeysuckle and put it in my room. The odor lingers for days. I don't suppose you know if there's any honeysuckle nearby, do you?"
"Lots of it."
"Then you'd be doing me a favor if you showed me which direction to take."
"All right, asshole, I'll go with you...but you'll have to keep up with me. I might only have one real leg, but I walk fast."
"Wanna change into some walking clothes?"
"I...I don't have any cutoffs like yours."
"Got a pair of old jeans?"
"Sure..."
"Then, let's make you a pair. Get the jeans and a pair of scissors."
"I...I don't like outsiders to see my prosthesis."
"Who's gonna see besides me? And I've already seen it, remember?
"You're a turd! You know that?"
"If you mean I can be a pain in the ass, yep, you're right."
"Come into my room while I dig out a pair of jeans. There's some scissors in that end drawer over there by the sink."
"Maybe when we get back, we can watch that new Colin Farrell movie."
"You got the whole day planned and we just started. Maybe I don't want to see the Colin Farrell movie."
"Fine...I'll watch it in my room."
"On your tiny screen, I guess?"
"Well, I don't have a big TV like yours, so I'll have to make do."
Hank got the scissors. Matt got his jeans and a few snips later, Hank made Matt his first pair of cutoffs. Hank left the room while Matt put them on. Matt was embarrassed by the shortness of the pants but was happy at the same time for having them.
"Well, Edith Head, what do you think of your design?"
"They look great, but how do you know about Edith Head?"
"I read ALL the credits before and after the movies I watch. Edith Head won more Oscars than any other costume designer in Hollywood."
"And I thought I was the only one who read movie credits," Hank said, grinning.
"Did you ever play Movie Trivia?"
"No, I never had anyone to play it with."
"Me either...but I bet we could make up our own Movie Trivia game."
"What happens if I beat you? You gonna take off your metal leg and hit me over the head?"
"That's a thought...IF you beat me."
"Hey, wait a minute before we go for the walk."
"What now?"
"Just wait." Hank ran next door to his room and came back with one of his T-shirts. "Here, put this on. If you're gonna wear cutoffs, you have to wear a T-shirt with them. It's a rule."
"A rule you just made up, I suppose."
"No, just shut up and take off that checkered farmer's shirt and put the T-shirt on, fuckhead!"
"No one's ever called me that before."
"You called me an asshole, I thought if you can dish it out, then you can take it, too."
"I called you a turd also."
"That's one of the reasons I wanted to go for a walk. I...I've been constipated for two days and I thought some exercise might help."
"No shit!"
"Literally!"
Matt donned the white T-shirt. The short sleeve made the stump of Matt's right arm more obvious.
"Does that bother you?" Matt asked, showing his amputation to Hank.
"Jesus Christ, do you think I've spent my whole life in a cave? I've seen lots of arms like yours. You think everything about yourself is unusual...that no one has ever had the same physical problems. Sure, you're unique, but it's nothing I haven't seen before. You think you're one of a kind...and you might be, but so am I. We're ALL one of a kind...and if you're around me for the summer, you're gonna find out that I'm pretty special and you're pretty special too."
Matt stood speechless, looking at Hank for a long time before he spoke. "You know, you're the only person I've really talked with since the accident and I don't know why I'm doing it."
"Maybe you won't believe me, but I've never talked with a guy my age like I'm talking with you."
"What's wrong with you? You're not deformed like me. You're good-looking...you don't have much of a muscular build on you, but at least no one looks away when they see you."
"Am I looking away when I talk to you?"
"Well, no...but maybe you've sorta gotten used to me."
"And it only took a few minutes. Matt, everyone in the world hides things behind a mask of some kind. Perhaps yours is more noticeable, but I hide things about myself that you can't see...but they're just as real as the things you hide. There's a real person inside you and, god damn it, you're gonna let me get to know it."
"What about the person inside you that you're hiding?"
"That'll be your job to get it to surface so that you can get to know it."
"OK, that's a bargain."
"Shake on it!" Hank said, without thinking.
"You want my left hand or my stump?"
Hank was embarrassed and didn't know how to reply. Matt put his stump out and said, "Go on, touch it. It's not diseased." Slowly, Hank put out his hand and took Matt's right arm in his hand. "You know, no one has ever done that before. Only my doctor and Uncle Mike have ever touched it before."
"Then I guess it's an honor that you offered it to me."
"Hey, Hank! Do you think it's possible that maybe we could be friends?"
"Would you trust me to be your friend?"
"I...I could try...as I said, I'm not good at being friends because I've never really had one."
"And, as I said, neither have I."
"I know it's just for a few weeks...but..."
"But what? 'You might hate me once you get to know me?'"
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
"You can, but I won't promise that I'll answer."
"I...You're not a fag, are you?"
"God, no! Are you?"
"Can you stand there and look at me and wonder that?"
"It wouldn't matter to me if you are."
"I couldn't be a fag if I wanted to be. No woman, and especially no guy, would ever go to bed with a fried crip."
"You DO get off, don't you? I mean, does everything work down there?"
"Would you believe that's part of the ten percent of me that didn't burn? That part of me looks normal and believe me it gets a good workout several times a day."
"I didn't mean to pry. I apologize for asking."
"Don't. That's the only part of me that looks normal. If we hadn't just been talking about fags, I'd show it to you."
"That's OK, I'll take your word for it. Now, let's go find some honeysuckle in your new clothes."
"How much do you know about wild flowers?"
"Quite a bit."
"Maybe we can have a wild flower trivia game in the woods."
"And if I win?"
"I'll conk you with my fake leg and ram my stump up your ass."
"I see who's gonna win all our games. Let's go, fuckhead!"
"Lead on, asshole."
The two new friends went out the door into the open field.
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(To be continued in chapter two of "Matt's Passion".)