THE FOLLOWING IS A TRUE STORY, DETAILING THE EVENTS THAT TOOK PLACE BETWEEN NOVEMBER 23, 1998 AND DECEMBER 1, 1998 AS REPORTED BY LOCAL AND NATIONAL MEDIA ON DECEMBER 2, 1998.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- TRAIN OF DESTINY by John Riley
I'm trying to recall exactly what happened that cool afternoon before the whole escapade happened. Throughout all the blackouts and states of semiconsciousness, even that day seems almost like a dream.
I remember it was Monday, and I remember coming home loaded with homework from my ninth grade Accelerated English class. I had just turned 15 and I've only been coming to grips to myself about my sexual identity over the past few months. (Not like I was considering becoming a girl or anything like that, but you know what I mean... I was realizing I liked boys better than girls.)
There was a particular boy in school whom I found myself becoming increasingly attracted to. He was only a sevie (seventh grader) but he was real mature for his age. As I found out that we both lived not too far from each other in the same neighborhood not far from school, I made it a point to coordinate my walk home so that I could find myself just "happening" to be with him on the way home.
His name was Billy, and he is just a couple of years younger than me. He's tall for his age -- almost as tall as I am! He turns 13 next week, and we plan on celebrating.
Anyway, it was with Billy that the whole incident occured.
We were walking along the train tracks along the outskirts of our home town of Hamilton, as we had been in the habit of doing. Our town isn't a terribly big town, more like a suburb of Cincinatti, but it has its bad elements. We happened to run into some of these elements on our way home along the tracks.
"HEYYYY..." one of the older teenage boys called out to us from across the tracks, waving what appeared to be a bottle of booze at us.
We knew this looked like trouble, so we started walking away from the tracks. (Just as well anyway, as we could see the smoke and hear the sound of a train coming from just around the bend ahead.)
"What 'choo two little punk asses doing out here on our turf?" an older black kid yelled at us, obviously in a state of drunkeness.
"Ignore them," I told Billy, as we were walking away from the tracks, away from them.
Billy and I both jumped at the sound of a glass bottle crashing right next to us, shattering into a thousand fragments amongst the rocks.
"HEY!" the older kid yelled and pulled a switchblade knife out and brandished it.
As the train approached, it became apparent that there was no way they could make it off the platform on the other side to get us in time before the train interrupted our paths.
I looked at Billy and he followed my eyes as I nodded to the train. Realizing the implications of this, we both started shouting back at the kids.
"Yeah, FUCK YOU!!" we both chimed in, giving them the finger and other rude signs.
Billy even turned around, dropped his pants, bent over and mooned them.
Needless to say, by this point, they were pissed.
They jumped off of the platform and ran towards the tracks. They stopped just seconds before the train came crusing by at a moderate -- but consistent -- pace of about 20mph.
"You little assholes are DEAD," the older gangbanger yelled at us through the gaps in the train cars. "You better start runnin' now, because you ain't gettin' away."
It suddenly occured to me that he was right. I turned around and surveyed the scene: open meadows for hundreds of yards. Even if we took off at full sprint, judging by the size of the thugs, they could catch up to us and beat the shit out of us in no time flat.
"What are we going to do??" the worry in Billy's voice showed that he had come to the same conclusion I had.
Then I spotted our only possible escape. I pointed to the train car second from the rear of the train. Billy tore off at full bore before I could even say "RUN FOR IT!" The side-door was only slightly ajar, but plenty wide for both of us to each fit in.
We paused, breathing heavily, and just sat there in the semi-darkness for a bit until we realized that it was possible that as slow as the train was going, they could possibly catch up to us.
We both peered out the door and saw them running about 30 yards behind the caboose of the train, rapidly losing distance. It seemed as if the train was accelerating now that it was clear of the bend and at an open stretch. In fact, it soon became apparent that we could no longer risk jumping off of the train because of the likelihood of injury.
"Shit!" screamed Billy, "what're we gonna dooo?"
The underlying whining attitude in his voice turned me on.
"Don't worry," I reasoned, "there's got to be a stop not too far from here. We'll just ride it out."
I made my way over to the rear of the car and shifted what were apparently sand bags around, and laid down against them. They weren't very comfortable, but it was better than the hardwood floor.
Billy just shook his head in disbelief, realizing his whole afternoon of fun and games was now shot. The sun made the most awesome effect in his hair, shining through and igniting his long bangs above his forehead.
"C'mere," I beckoned with my arm, motioning toward the bags to the right of me.
He reluctantly gave in, once he realized there was nothing he could do to change the situation. I tried to cheer him up.
"Do you think our neighbor, Melissa, is hot?" I questioned him, watching him closely for reaction.
She was a fellow ninth grader whom I had in a couple of classes. She was alright looking... for a girl. I had noticed Billy checking her out the few times we were in her vacinity on the block near where we lived, in our neighborhood. He was currently blushing.
"Uh, I dunno, I guess," he looked at his feet.
"You can tell me, dude, we've been friends for how long now?"
"A while I guess..." he was short of words.
"Do you ever think about her?" I egged him on.
He suddenly looked up, peering me in the eyes -- his piercing eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean..."
I noticed him shifting in his position. It appeared as if a tent was forming in his shorts -- or maybe I was just imagining it. He just kind of shrugged and dropped his gaze back down to the ground.
We were rounding another bend and I realized that this could be our chance. I sprang up and hopped over to the door.
"Oh SHIT!" I yelled.
He was quickly beside me, and squeezed in under my armpit, pushing himself next to me.
"Oh man..." his voice trailed off.
Not only were we now above a canyon on the side of the train the door was on, but we were going even faster than ever. At least 50mph.
"Looks like we're gonna miss supper..." I announced.
"Oh man...!" Billy repeated with an even greater sense of exasperation, as he pulled out from under my arm and proceeded to pout and stamp his feet in the ground.
"Relax..." I turned around and put my arm around his shoulder, "we can find something to do to pass the time."
After a few moments of silence, I thoughtfully added,
"We'll be back home eventually... I mean, the train has to stop sometime, doesn't it?"
Billy slowly looked up at me and smiled.
"Maybe."
My heart jumped as I internalized his perfect lips mutter the word. I quickly snapped myself out of it.
"Maybe?!" I shrieked, playfully putting him in a grip and proceeding to tickle him, "Maybe!??"
"Ahhh!!!" he cried out in laughter, "NO! ... stop it!"
I made him roll all over from one of the floor to the other. After I felt he had enough abuse (the point where his involuntary laughter was so intense it became inaudible) I collapsed onto the floor next to him.
Not thinking, before he got a chance to fully recuperate, my arm shot out and went around his stomach.
He stoppped laughing and grew silent.
I withdrew my arm and apologized.
"Sorry."
"Its alright," he replied, after a second.
He rolled over so that he was facing me. It was already getting darker, possibly because we were passing in between the hills which blocked the sun.
"Its going to be dark soon," he told me.
I was studying his lips again. How much I wanted to kiss him right then and there... but I couldn't.
"Its going to be dark soon," he repeated.
"Yeah, I know," I sat up.
He mimicked my move.
"Its going to get cold..." he added, crossing his arms in front of his chest in anticipation.
"I know."
We moved over and rested our heads against the sandbags and stared at the ceiling. I noticed Billy adjusting himself through his trousers.
"You alright?" I grinned mischeviously.
He returned the grin after he saw mine and nodded.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" he asked out of nowhere, taking me off guard.
"Wh-what?" I stammered, "Uh, no... I mean, not right now."
I was grasping for some excuse to give him.
"Me neither," he replied, rotating his head so that he was looking at the ceiling again.
"I've got to piss," Billy sudden announced -- I realized how low our voices had become, almost a whisper.
"Out the cargo door?" I suggested.
He hopped up and moved to the door, blocking what sunlight was coming in. He started whistling as I watched his back as he unzipped his trousers and began a long stream of piss out into the wind.
I was in awe. The sun was doing that thing with his hair again, and he was so perfect there, so carefree... just pissing off in the wind.
He turned around before he tucked himself in and I got a quick glimpse of his raw meat, but not much as the light was mostly blocked, before it was swallowed up by a quick tug on his trousers. He watched me as he zipped up and buttoned up his pants.
"When ya gotta go..." he joked.
I just continued to stare at him -- studying him -- until he came back and sat down next to me. Could he tell what I was thinking about him?
He started tapping, then drumming, on the floor with his fingers in between us. He began to whistle, but stopped when my closer hand grasped his. He slowly turned and faced me, his lips still in an "o" shape from whistling.
"Close your eyes," I told him.
I couldn't believe I was even thinking this. My emotions were taking over at this point.
He blinked for a second, then shut his eyes completely, relaxing his lips as he returned my grip on his hand by gripping back.
That was all I could take. I shut my eyes and leaned my upper body in on him. Our lips brushed. His grip went dead and a gush of fear shot through me as I slowly opened my left eye-lid.
His eyes were wide open, and it appeared as if his eyes were shaking. The dread began to build up and I got that terrible feeling in my chest, as if I had just fucked up something fierce. I slowly opened both eyes.
We studied each other for a few seconds -- seemed like minutes -- our faces only inches apart. I could feel him breathing on me. I could smell his sweet breath. He closed his eyes again, and turned his head away from me, facing straight ahead toward the open door.
I released my grip on him, still in shock from my body's feelings. I continued to watch his eyes... they were darting about, although he was still facing straight forward, as if he was searching for something.
"Sorry," was all that I could say, as I turned my head away in shame and dismay.
I could feel him again looking at me, only inches away. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and I felt another crashing blow as my feelings betrayed me, showing me how much of an idiot I was.
Just before I got the chance to think that I probably blew our friendship to pieces just there, I felt his hand grasp mine again.
"What are you sorry for?" he asked.
The fear and shock was quickly flushed out by that warm, tingly feeling again. I didn't know what to do.
He faced forward again, and I noticed his hand slide over onto his lap as he adjusted himself through his pants. I could feel my own rising hard-on aching to be tending to.
I let myself move my hand down and mimick his behavior.
"You want to do it?" he whispered in a voice so low that I could barely hear.
My eyes shot open. My mind was racing. Do IT? Do WHAT?? Sensing my apprehensing, he raised his left fist and made a quick jerking movement, obviously imitating his intentions.
Realizing I was still hot in the face, probably blushing, I quickly nodded and faced forward, letting my hand handle the rest of the job.
I didn't even watch as I heard him unbutton his pants and heard his fly zip open. I didn't even hear my own pants as I quickly freed my throbbing member.
I glanced over at Billy and he was already leaning back, eyes firmly closed, left hand at his side, right hand furiously pumping away at his 4-inch meat. The sight of it sent a pleasure pulse through my own aching body.
I figured it best to just take it easy and not rush things, so I took advantage of the moment, leaned back as he did, closed my eyes, and concentrated completely on the slap-slap-slapping noises his hand was making as his scrotum was lifted up violently and likewise forced back down on his creamy white thighs.
I soon synchronized my motions with his, and let my mind wonder with all the possibilities of the varieties of sex I could accomplish with this boy... my orgasm snuck up on me before I knew it and I didn't get time to lift up my jacket before squirting all over it.
My hearing returned just in time to catch the wonderful sound of Billy crying out in extasy. I spied him with his bottom lifted off of the ground, elevated by the heels of his feet, as wave after wave of cum spilt out and all over his tightly-clenched fist.
I studied his face and watched his clenched teeth as his mouth slowly evaporated into a sigh of relief -- his orgasm over.
We both remained still for a few moments, the cool breeze making sounds coming through the door. I continued staring at his face, watching his mouth movements as he swallowed and licked his lips. An afterthought my cock in his mouth flashed through my mind.
He finally opened his eyes and turned towards me with a sly grin on his face.
"Thats better," he whispered, short of breath.
He raised his cum-covered hand and looked at it quizically. If I hadn't just lost my own pent-up desire from the release of the orgasm, I would have instantly have grabbed his wrist and brought his fist to my lips for some "professional cleanup" service. But I was too spent to move, and just watched as he grinded his fist slowly into a sandbag, rubbing the gooey stuff off.
I did the same, although most of mine was all over my coat as I said. I unzipped it, took it off, and felt the chilly air penetrate me as I wiped my coat off against another nearby sandbag.
It was now definitely getting dark, but there was enough light to notice we had cleared the canyon and hills and were now out in the open. I flung my coat back on me and zipped up as I moved to the door.
"Pretty cool view," Billy's voice startled me.
He was right behind me, almost whispering into my ear. I felt his hand coil around my waist from behind me. I closed my eyes and inhaled the cool autumn air.
I braced myself against the door way as I felt my body being forced toward the front of the train. Billy felt it to, and removed his arm so as to balance himself against the gravity.
"What the..."
I stuck my head out and gauged the scenery.
"Aha!" I exclaimed, "I told you!"
He squeezed his head under my arm again, brushing the back of his head hard against my chest.
"No shit," he admitted, "you're right."
We were approaching a train station, and the train was slowing as another set of tracks appeared right outside.
"Should we jump?" Billy looked up towards me.
"No," I cautioned, "lets wait till we get closer and see whats up..."
I didn't want to sound like a chicken to him, but at the same time I didn't want to see him hurt. We were still moving at a fairly brisk pace, and if we didn't happen to clear the other tracks, we could end up hurting ourselves pretty bad. Being stranded out in the middle of nowhere -- disabled -- wasn't exactly my idea of fun. In fact, I wasn't even sure we were in Ohio any more, as we had travelled a few hours.
"Look!" his arm shot out in front on me, brushing my ass and the side of my hips in the process, "another train! We can train hop!"
He had a brilliant idea. That way, instead of hopping clear off and hoping we could find a phone to call our parents, we could just ride back the way we came. Surely those gangbanger thugs weren't still hanging around that platform, and surely the train would have to slow down as it came to the same bend.
We hopped off of the train as it slowed to under 5mph and hopped up on the platform on the other side of the parallel tracks beside it. Sure enough, the other train was beginning to move towards us (and towards home) at a slowly increasing pace.
We ran down the platform and started trying out the levers of the box cars to see if any were going to let us in. Sure enough, one eventually took, and we both pushed against the force of the gears the door was attached to (the kind that naturally force the doors to close by themselves so they don't accidentally remain open) and hopped into the darkness. The doors slammed shut behind us, neither of us thinking anything of it.
"Shit," Billy announced, "its dark in here."
I could hear him searching along the door panel for some sort of switch or lever. I immediately joined in on the search, as we hadn't yet determined what was even in this box car yet.
"Oh shit!" I found myself saying as I my arms desperately searched for some sort of mechanism to open the door.
After minutes of foul language and frantic searching, we both gave up, realizing we were trapped.
"FUCK!!" Billy cursed under the sound of the increasing speed of the train.
I sat on the ground, resting my back against the door and bringing my hand to my forehead, realizing how stupid this idea was.
"What are we going to do?!" the anxiety in Billy's voice was very obvious. "Oh shit, we're TRAPPED!!"
The word came crashing home like a ton of bricks. TRAPPED. Oh shit.
"Who knows where this train is taking us," Billy shrieked, "fuck, we've gotta get outta here!!"
He started pounding on the door, soon followed by kicking. I let him beat himself to death before he finally stopped and grew quiet. The whole car was quiet.
"John?" he called out, worriedly.
I didn't answer.
"JOHN!" he was very worried.
"Whoa, whoa, relax!" I jumped up and found him, embracing him, mad that I had gotten him worried unnecessarily.
He was shaking.
"I'm alright," he said into my jacket, "you... scared me."
"I'm sorry," I apologized, kissing the top of his head, my lips sifting through his hair.
"What are we going to do?" he pleaded with me.
"I don't know."
His hands, which had been at his side until then, rose up and grasped my elbows briefly, then wove their way around my back as we embraced in a tight hug for several minutes.
It was dark, it was getting cold, and we were getting hungry. It was time to survey this boxcar, for other ways of escape, or at least for possibly something to eat.
"Lets check out those crates I think I saw in the back there," I softly spoke to Billy's ear.
"Okay," he reluctantly agreed, still shaken and overcome by the depth of the situation we were in.
I slowly let myself go of him and turned around, only to feel his warm hand slide into mine. I felt reassured, with him by my side.
"Are you scared?" Billy asked me, sounding serious.
"Yeah," I admitted, "a little."
"Me too." I heard him reply, not even able to recognize his face in the darkness.
We moved over to the crates -- I kicked with my legs to make sure I didn't trip over anything -- and we crouched down next to one. With a little effort, we got the lid off of one, and I gingerly reached inside to feel what was in there.
"Bottles!" I exlaimed, remembering the bottled-water plant that was rumored to be close to here.
I pulled one out and was relieved to feel that it was full. I briefly shook it and let out a laugh of relief. Turning toward Billy as I tested the cap. Sure enough, it was sealed. I quickly popped it off, and brought the bottle to my lips without thinking.
"BLAH!" I spat out the liquid substance.
"Yech!" Billy said disgustedly, "you got me with it. What is it?"
I wiped my lips with my jacket sleeve. I had tasted it before. I handed Billy the bottle.
"What is it?" he asked again curiously.
"Try it," was all that I told him.
I could hear his jacket move, figuring he was bringing it up to his face. I heard him sniff it, soon followed by guzzling sounds. And more guzzling sounds. And more!
"Jesus, Billy!" I was amazed.
"Ahh!!" he commented as if it had just refreshened him, followed by a long belch as he tossed the empty bottle across the hardwood floor of the car, "Beer!"
"You're only 12 and you drink?" I was still amazed at how fast he downed it. "You must have been thirsty."
Billy only nodded in the darkness. (I assumed so, anyway.)
"At least we won't die of dehydration," he replied, reaching his hand across mine for another bottle.
"Wait!" I caught his wrist, "Actually, isn't alcohol supposed to suck away and absorb water from the brain? Thats what we learned in eighth-grade health class anyway..."
Billy persisted, grabbing another bottle anyway.
"I dunno," he smart-aleckly remarked, "I haven't taken health yet."
I let go of his wrist.
"You're gonna get drunk," I warned him.
"So?" I could see him shrugging his shoulders, as I heard the cap pop off of the second bottle.
"Shit," I resigned and started trying some of the other crates.
More bottles. More and more bottles! I finally opened one from a far crate and tested it out. Same shit, same taste. I spat it out.
I never really liked the taste of beer. Moreso, I was always afraid of the idea of becoming an "addict" or a drunk like my grandpa was. He died of a stomach ulcer, directly related to his drinking.
"You've got to drink something, eventually," Billy argued.
I could tell by the slight waver in his voice that he was already getting a buzz. He smacked his lips again and let out another loud belch as he rolled the second bottle along the floor like the first.
"You're going to become an alcoholic if you keep that up," I told him more sternly and seriously.
"Runs in the family," I heard him grab yet another bottle from the crate, "they say you drink alot in times of extreme nervousness."
I stopped myself from telling him about my grandpa. That pain in my chest arose as I pictured my best friend in the whole world suffering like grandpa did. The thought alone was disturbing. I didn't even want to talk about it.
"Well," he continued, in between gulps, "I'm extremely nervous right now."
The futility of the situation began to sink in. After a few minutes, after Billy had picked up his FOURTH bottle, I slowly brought my first to my lips. I took a hard swig and forced myself to swallow.
"Ugh!" I muttered disgustedly, "this shits nasty. Worse than the other."
Billy crawled over to me and grabbed the bottle out of my hand, taking a big gulp.
"Right on!" he announced, "Genuine Draft!"
"You know what it is just from tasting it?" I was incredulous, "What kind is the other?"
"Miller Lite, I think." he let out a quick belch again, the sour fumes catching me in the face.
"Yech," I stuck my tongue out, trying to erase the memory of the taste of the drink.
"Here," he gave me his fourth bottle of 'Miller Lite', "drink this at least."
I forced myself to, against better knowledge of its dehydrating effects. It actually was quite refreshing, and even helped quench my hunger as well.
As I had never tried any quantity of beer before, I was already feeling a buzz. Considering Billy was smaller than me, I couldn't imagine what he was feeling right now.
He suddenly moved up against me, sitting next to me against the back wall, leaning his head on my shoulder. I heard him let his bottle scrape against the floor.
"Are you drunk yet?" I asked him.
"Getting there."
We let silence intrude for a few minutes.
"I'm horny." he suddenly announced.
I suddenly realized I was too.
I turned my head towards him.
"Want to jerk off again?" his alcohol-tinted breath wavered in my face.
I fell in love with him all over again, as I discriminated his sweet breath from the evil poison.
My reservations were dampened by the alcohol, and I found my arm come up and slip around the back of his neck. I let my emotions take over again, with little regret. Our faces locked in a tough kiss, our lips generating all the pleasure for us. He eventually parted his lips slightly, and I took my cue to insert my tongue in. We frenched for what seemed like hours, before Billy made the next move.
I gasped as I felt him brush my pole through my pants. He fumbled for my zipper, his accuracy already tainted by the alcohol.
"I want..." he began, losing his voice.
He came back with his voice much softer, in a whisper...
"I want to suck you off..." he cooed softly into my ear.
I didn't say anything. I certainly wasn't going to object. I was just afraid something I might say might turn him away and cause him to stop.
I helped guide him down, as it was clear that he was losing his coordination. After a couple failed attempts he wrapped his lips around my exposed member and sloppily attempted to do the deed. He finally got his act together, and I found myself lost down the yellow brick road of pleasure...
His tongue rolled around the head, stimulating the sensitive parts, as I slowly but sensuously rubbed his back with one hand, massaging the side of his bobbing face, around his ear, and through his soft hair with the other.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuck...." I relaxed my head body against the wall as I felt the pressure building and the summit mounting...
I don't even remember feeling the orgasm at first. Its like my senses broke in just a split second after the first burst. Instead of feeling myself go up and out, I didn't feel it until I felt myself coming down after the first load had already been deposited into his mouth. I gasped wildly and bucked my thighs beneath him as he swallowed wave after wave of my warm love cream. I swear I must have delivered a whole pint of it, much more than ever before in my life. Of course, it was much more intense than anything else ever in my life up to that point as well.
The orgasm finally wore off, and Billy was still down there lapping it up hungrily.
"Whoa, dude," I pushed on his forehead, "you can stop now."
He finally pulled off, with one final motion of locking his lips in a tight suction as he slid off. It left a weird aftershock feeling on my spent rod, revebrating over and over through me. I was in heaven.
He clumsily moved closer and rested his chin on my shoulder. I could barely here what he was saying, he was almost crying.
"I love you..." he whined softly, "I love you, John..."
I embraced him and returned his affection.
"I love you too, Bill," I cooed into his ear, "I love you too..."
As my fatigue from the orgasm wore off and I regained some of my energy, I realized that it was time for Bill-Bill to get his just desserts.
"Can I blow you?" I asked him softly, licking and softly chewing on his ear.
"Y-yes," he stammered, acting shocked that I would even have to ask, "of course you can."
Instead of sitting upright like I was, he laid down on the cold floor and let me unfasten his pants.
"Have you ever had this done to you before?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Uh-uh," I could barely see him shaking his head sideways in refutation.
"Well, I hope I do it right," I told myself in my mind.
He clasped his hands around the back of my head and played with my hair around my ears as I went down on him. He tasted surprisingly sweet, and he must have been so charged up, because it didn't take him long to come off at all.
I was unprepared when the first wave went up my nose. I tried to swallow the huge load of ooze that he was spewing forth, but only succeeded in capturing about half of it. The rest dribbled down my chin and out my nose. I revelled in the fantastic new taste of love in my mouth and in my throat and in my stomach.
I squeezed his balls lovingly a few times, before I let his limp flesh rest upon the sparse hair he was beginning to grow around the base.
I swallowed again, tasting it over and over again. It was cool. I was in love. We were trapped inside this boxcar, but we were free at the same time.
I snuggled next to him on the ground. Despite the uncomfortable hard floor, we both fell asleep before long, our coats and close proximity keeping us fairly warm.
DAY+2
When we awoke, the train was stopped. I was briefly disoriented and my heart started racing until I felt Billy's hand resting under my jacket, on my chest. I nudged Billy gently, and he finally awoke.
"Ugggghhh..." he complained, "Hang--ov--er--"
I chuckled at his antics. But I wasn't long to pull myself up and gather up my vocals.
"HEL---LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!" I bellowed as loud as I could.
"CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?????" I called out until my throat ran hoarse.
"HELP!!!" Billy chimed in. "HELP US, PLEASE!!!!"
We continued on like this for many minutes, until we realized nobody could hear us, or if they could, they weren't going to save us.
Billy sat down and began to cry in earnest.
Upon hearing him and feeling his pain, my "manly" reservations went out the door. Tears streamed down my face as well, and I sat and squeezed in next to Billy and we cried in each others arms.
"We're going to die..." Billy sobbed, "we are going to die..."
"No way," I grinded my head sideways against into his, showing my firm resolve, "we're going to be saved. Somebody will find us..."
"After all," I continued, choking back tears, "they have to come for all this beer eventually, don't they?"
At this Billy choked and laughed underneath his sorrow. The humor eventually broke its way through, and we both laughed and cried in each others arms until we had emptied ourselves of all emotion. (Well, ALMOST all emotion...)
I gently wiped the tears off his face with the backs of my fingers.
"Hey..." I snuggled against him, causing him to return the favor.
I pecked at his neck and sucked on his ear lobes, both of us overcoming our fear and anxiety.
"I need a beer," Billy suddenly announced.
"Give me one, too," I staunchly replied.
He handed me one from the Lite box and he pulled up himself TWO bottles of Genuine Draft in the other. We enjoyed our breakfast as we caressed each other and kissed each other slowly. So romantic.
The rest of the day was a blur. We randomly called out for help every hour or so, or anytime we thought we heard something or someone in the distance outside. We had no idea where we were. We made up stories to pass the time, and imagined fantastic tales of how our train must have gotten derailed or kidnapped/hijacked by aliens... anything to keep our spirits and our hopes up.
By the end of that day, both of us were drunk off of our asses. I barely remember slipping down next to him... both of us stark naked... giving him hickies on the back of his neck... giving him a hand job while I... images of kids at school using derogatory words... ("fudgepacker" ... "assrammer"... "backdoor")... confusion... darkness... unconsciousness...
DAYS+3 to +8
I hardly remember the remaining 5 days of captivity at all. I remember puking once from all the beer, the countless times we had called out for help, hoping beyond all hopes that someone would hear us... making love to Billy again and again, the only way to keep up our will to survive...
It finally happened on Tuesday, December 1st. We had lost track of what day it was by then. So many blackouts and unconscious fits from the beer, combined by the absolute blockage of all light to the cab from outside, made it impossible to tell.
All I remember is the doors suddenly flying open. Billy had been calling out with what voice he still had left. I had no energy to anymore. Amazingly, two men had heard him and had rescued us. I squinted my eyes to the bright light, but finally adjusted so as to see their uniforms: Miller Brewing Company. Go figure.
"Jesus Chirst," one of the men said, "how long you boys been in here?
"You boys alright?" the other asked before the first was finished.
It was the first time I got a chance to actually see Billy with my eyes in over a week. Damn was he pale. He was so thin, he made some of those starving people of Africa look fat in comparison. We were both naked from the waist up, and neither of us had our pants fastened properly. But our appearances were the least of our concerns. I was speechless and without emotion, not recalling hardly any of the dozens of questions the two Miller workers were throwing at us. They eventually realized we were famished and led us into a breakroom inside where they used their own money out of their own pockets to provide us with snacks and beverages, which we both devoured like there was no tomorrow (there almost wasn't!)
It was then that I saw myself in the mirror. I stopped dead cold and took a second long glance at the sad, frail figure before me. I couldn't believe I was still alive. I briefly thought about thanking whatever gods above there may be, but my hunger pains quickly derailed that possibility. We literally went through $20 worth of junk food in less than 10 minutes. And we were STILL hungry, but at least the numbness and sense of near-death began to wear off, and we once again became human.
I choose not to recall all the police/media publicity afterwards, and all the explaining over and over again to everyone, to my parents, to my bed... what had hapenned.
DAY+9
I rubbed my left eye with the palm of my left hand and wearily found my way to the kitchen. I had a very long night sleep in my own warm, comfy bed.
On the kitchen table, I noticed the newspaper with the bottom of the front page circled -- I snickered.
"If only they knew the whole story..." I quietly mumbled out loud.
I read the article:
" BOYS, TRAPPED FOR 8 DAYS, RESCUED
TRENTON, Ohio - Two boys trapped in a locked
railroad boxcar without heat, light, food or
water for eight days said they survived by
drinking the beer being transported in the
car. John Riley, 15, and Billy Grimes, 12,
jumped onto a slow-moving train in their
hometown of Hamilton, about 15 miles north
of Cincinnati, on Nov. 23 to escape a group
of thugs. They switched trains, hoping to
head back home. But somehow the boxcar
doors slammed shut while they slept,
imprisoning the boys until they were
discovered Tuesday morning in the railroad
yard of the Miller Brewing Co. less than 10
miles from home. Two Miller employees
counting the boxcars heard the boys crying
for help and got them released. "
I smirked at how they got it wrong about when the doors closed on us. Who told them it happened when we were sleeping? Did Billy? Of course, we were both mumbling about nothing expect "sleep... want to go to sleep..." that its easy to see where the misconception crept in. I swear, after we filled our stomachs and quenched our thirst with soda pop and water, our days on end of constant half-awake state caught up to us. We were TI-RED.
I smiled at my warm memories of the short random periods of consciousness I could recall, curled up next to Billy, holding him... But a sudden fear ripped through me, like a cold spell coming in from a cold winter morning window left open.
"What if he didn't remember?" I heard myself asking myself in the back of my mind, "What if he was just drunk and didn't know what was going on?"
The thought gave me goosebumps. I went to the couch to lay down -- this sudden rush of feelings was was giving me a headache. Besides, I had one hell of a hangover.
I slept...
TO BE CONTINUED . . . ?