by Mark Roeder
“Jump out if you want. You might survive.”
The old fear had returned. Tears rolled down my cheeks.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I said.
“Has he come after you yet?” Boothe asked.
I looked through the glass at the back of the cab, then at Boothe, confused.
“Has he come after you yet?” he repeated.
“He?”
“That answers my question.”
“Huh?”
“You and I need to talk. We’ve got a problem.”
“I…I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
Boothe pulled into an abandoned drive. He parked the truck where it couldn’t be seen from the road. I was in deep shit. Way out here there was no one to hear me scream.
“Get out,” he said.
I had no trouble following that order. I jerked open the door and bolted the second my feet hit the ground. Boothe tackled me before I made it fifteen feet. He pushed me onto my back and slugged me in the stomach.
“Please, no,” I said. “Please, don’t.”
“I’m not going to do anything to you, Dane, if you stop trying to get away.”
“You’re not?”
“No. You pissed me off that night, Dane. You shouldn’t have done that. I was also extremely horny. I get crazy when I’m horny. You brought it all on yourself, boy. If you hadn’t been such a little prick, that wouldn’t have happened.”
I didn’t agree at all, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. At the very least he’d slug me again. At the worst… Still, there’s something I had to know.
“That night…if no one had come to save me…would you…would you have killed me after you’d finished with me?”
“Yes,” Boothe said, staring into my eyes. “You think I’d be stupid enough to leave you alive so you could tell the cops? You are a stupid little fuck.”
“Are you going to kill me now?” I asked. Tears flowed from my eyes. I trembled in utter terror.
“No. I have nothing to gain from killing you now. Besides, I already told you I’m not going to do anything to you—if you don’t try to escape. I should hurt you. I should pay you back for going to the cops, but I’m such a nice guy I’m going to let it slide. As for killing you, you’re more useful to me alive.”
I didn’t like the sound of that last bit.
“Have you experienced anything…unusual since last summer?” Boothe asked.
“Unusual? Like how?”
“Like…ghosts…spirits of the dead…zombies.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Um, no.”
“You will.”
“Um, okay.”
Boothe smacked me in the face—hard.
“Stop acting like you think I’m crazy!”
“Well, you’re the one talking about ghosts!”
“You’d be talking about ghosts, too, if one was after you, and he will be.”
“Why would a ghost be after me?”
“Because you helped me rob his grave.”
“Hey, I didn’t take anything from those graves. You did.”
“He won’t care about that. You helped me. That makes you guilty.”
“Well, he hasn’t been bothering me—only you have.”
Boothe raised his hand as if he was going to strike me but then lowered it.
“Your smart mouth is going to get you in big trouble—again.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t like the implication.
“What exactly do you want from me? Did you just kidnap me to tell me about this ghost?”
“I want you to help me figure this thing out.”
“Why should I?”
“Because, mark my words, he will come after you, too, and when he does... And because, if you don’t help me, I’ll come after you, and our next trip into the country will not be so pleasant. I’ll finish what I started last summer.”
I willed myself not to tremble, but I failed.
“I can call the cops,” I said.
“You think that will help you? You think I can’t get you if I want you? I don’t care how well you’re guarded. Do you really want to spend your life looking over your shoulder wondering when your buddy Boothe is going to grab you?”
“No.”
“I’m not being unreasonable. I just want some help in getting this thing off my back.”
“Maybe you should return the stuff you stole.”
Boothe punched me in the gut again, only not quite as hard as before.
“You think I have that stuff, you dipshit? I sold that crap as fast as I could. There’s nothing left to return, and I couldn’t lay my hands on it if I wanted. Who knows where all that stuff is now?”
“Well, I don’t have a clue about how to help you.”
Boothe picked me up and slammed me up against the truck. I felt as if he’d broken my back.
“You’d better get a clue, boy, and you’d better do it fast. You’ll have more incentive to help when he comes for you, and he will.”
Boothe put his hands on me then. He ran them down my sides, onto my hips, and around to my ass. I thought he was going to grope my crotch, too, but he only stared into my eyes.
“Your boyfriend is quite a little hottie, Dane. It would be a shame if something bad happened to him, but then, that’s up to you.”
My face paled.
“I don’t understand what you want from me!”
Boothe grinned a horrible grin. He grabbed the sides of my head and kissed me before I could even try to stop him. He pulled away from me, slid into his truck, and backed out of the old drive. He drove away, leaving me standing there frightened and confused. I wiped my mouth off and began the walk back into town.
I was late for school, but compared to what I thought Boothe was going to do to me when he forced me into his trunk, a tardy was nothing. I was in a bit of a daze all morning. I was frightened but even more bewildered. Boothe seemed like the same old Boothe, except he was talking crazy. When he grabbed me, I figured I was done for, but then he started talking about the ghost…
I ran to Tim and hugged him the very first time I saw him between periods. It was all I could do to keep myself from crying. Thankfully, I didn’t have any bruises where Boothe had smacked me.
“Where were you this morning?” Tim asked. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I’m okay, I think. I had a horrible nightmare last night—about Boothe. Then, something happened this morning, but it’s too long of a story. I’ll tell you after school.”
“Dane? You don’t look okay. You don’t look okay at all.”
“I’ll explain everything later. I promise.”
I hugged Tim again. I felt so safe when he held me.
“Faggots,” muttered Devon as he passed.
Tim flipped him off, then walked me to class.
At lunch, Tim sat beside me. He was my world. I don’t even remember who else was sitting there, although I’m sure it was the usual crew. I spent most of my time gazing into Tim’s eyes. I loved him so much.
I wasn’t looking forward to our after-school talk, and yet it would be a relief to talk about what had happened. Tim knew all about my past with Boothe. It was his own brother who had saved me from him. I now knew for certain that Shawn had saved my life. Boothe himself had told me he would’ve killed me after he was done with me that night if Shawn hadn’t rescued me.
We’d barely stepped out of the school when Tim turned to me.
“So, what’s up?”
I told him first about the nightmare. Then, I dropped the bomb.
“Boothe? Boothe kidnapped you this morning? Are you okay? What did he do to you? He didn’t…he didn’t rape you, did he? You went to the cops, right? You should have told me first thing!”
Tim asked so many questions so fast I couldn’t keep up with him. His eyes filled with tears, and his lower lip trembled. I stopped and looked into his eyes.
“He didn’t rape me, Tim. He didn�
�t hurt me much. I’m okay. Really, I’m okay. I was scared. I thought he was going to hurt me, but he didn’t. Relax, Tim. I’m okay.”
I told Tim exactly what happened and what Boothe told me.
“A ghost? He thinks a ghost is after him?”
“Yes. I think he really believes it.”
“Do you think he’s gone crazy?”
“I don’t know what’s up with him. He seemed very sincere about it. I’m convinced he really believes that a ghost is pursuing him. I don’t know. Maybe his guilt is finally getting to him. I didn’t even think he had a conscience, but maybe he’s realized what a horrible thing he did—we did.”
“Dane, you just helped him. You didn’t rob those graves.”
“That doesn’t make what I did right. I didn’t steal anything from those graves, but I still helped. I’m just as guilty as he is. I felt bad about it then and worse since. I should have found some other way to survive.”
“Dane, you had to do something. You told me yourself your choices were robbing graves or selling yourself on the streets like Austin. Out of the two, I’d say grave-robbing was the better choice. Hell, if I was dead and buried, I’d rather some kid dig me up and steal my stuff instead of selling his body.”
I actually laughed a little at that.
“Well, I would! Grave-robbing is wrong, yeah, but it’s not like anyone really needs the stuff they’re buried with. If there is a life after death, it’s not as though that stuff goes with them. If death is just an end, then that stuff is just as useless. Hell, archaeologists rob graves all the time. It’s called science, and they put a lot of that stuff in museums, but it’s still grave-robbing just the same. The only difference is there aren’t any relatives around to complain about it.”
“There’s a big difference, Tim. How would you feel if Shawn was dead and someone dug him up?”
“Listen, Dane. I’m not saying what you did wasn’t wrong. I’m just saying you did what you had to do. That’s all in the past. Don’t beat yourself up for it.”
Tim and I talked about Boothe all the way home. He even came in for a while. We had some cookies and milk and then played basketball in the gym. I wanted to get in some lip action, but Mom was hovering around, and Tim and I thought it best to work on our “good boy” images. If Mom only knew…
Shawn
“Hey, sexy,” Marc said.
Marc gave me a peck on the lips, which was fairly bold considering we were standing in front of my locker just before school. Even hetero couples weren’t allowed to kiss on school property, and I could just imagine how the powers that be would react to even the briefest of kisses between two males. There was also the reaction of our classmates to consider, but I wasn’t too worried about that. Still, I was uncomfortable. Being out was new to me, and kissing another guy in public was almost more than I could handle. As it was, only two people noticed. One was a girl standing near who wiggled her eyebrows in a “you go, boy” gesture, and the other was a guy who wrinkled his nose and shook his head as if to say “queers.” The boy didn’t seem overly hostile, which was a sign of how good things were for gays in VHS.
Marc brushed his long bangs back, and I went weak in the knees. I remember reading about people going “weak in the knees” and wondering what the heck that meant. I knew now, but I can’t explain the feeling except to say…well, you know. Why is it that feelings are so hard to put into words?
Marc and I talked for the few moments it took me to sort out my books, then we both went our separate ways. That little bit of contact with him made me feel comfortable and happy. Marc smiled at me whenever our paths crossed during the day, which wasn’t often, but still his smile gave me a pleasant feeling in my chest. He sat with me at lunch again, and he fit right in.
Marc quickly began to feel like a boyfriend. At lunch, we sat so close our arms touched most of the time. It was actually Marc who scooted in so close to me, but I didn’t pull away. I enjoyed the closeness. I liked him being so near I could smell his cologne. I was getting to know Marc a little better, too. It was odd. I knew a lot of guys really well, like Ethan, Brendan, Casper, and all the others who sat at our table. I knew a bunch of guys from football and others from classes. I’d seen Ethan without a shirt before (wow!). I’d seen Brendan and all my other teammates naked (yum!), but I hadn’t been intimate with any of them the way I had Marc. I’d thoroughly explored Marc’s smooth, sexy body. I knew just where to touch him to make him moan. I knew exactly how big his hard penis was. I knew how his balls drew up just before he came. I knew just what he sounded like when he moaned with passion. What I didn’t know was all the little things I knew about scores of other guys. Little by little, I was now discovering those things. It felt like working backwards in a way—not that the ultimate goal of all my friendships was sex, not at all! It’s just that I knew a ton of guys well and would have liked to have had sex with quite a few of them. With Marc, it had started with sex. I’d barely noticed him before Blake brought him into Ofarim’s. I found I liked getting to know him. The more I found out about him, the more I liked him.
I didn’t like like Marc. I didn’t have romantic thoughts towards him. I thought about sex with him, yeah, but I wasn’t in love with him. I enjoyed his friendship, however, and I very much enjoyed the closeness. There were a lot of things that weren’t sex but were kind of related that I’d never experienced before: like Marc and me sitting so close at lunch; like the way he touched my arm when we talked, keeping his hand on my arm much longer than anyone else would; like the way he leaned his head against mine, or the way he gazed at me with desire. None of these things were sex, but they were linked, and I liked them, if not better than sex, then almost as much.
Tristan noticed my new relationship with Marc but didn’t comment. He was still friendly with me and still spoke to me as if nothing had changed. I could tell in the way he looked at me and at Marc and me that he wondered what was going on between us. Did he also wonder if I’d lost interest in him? It served him right. I’d done plenty of wondering about him and Nate. I wondered if they were seriously dating or just messing around. I wondered if they made out and groped each other and if they’d seen each other naked. I wondered if they took walks in the moonlight and if they’d gone all the way. I burned with jealousy, and I hated Nate. I guess Nate wasn’t really a bad guy, but he had what I wanted, so how could I help but hate him?
I felt guilty about my jealousy, but there was this tiny part of me that was happy for Tristan if he was happy. I was pissed off with him at the moment because of the whole thing with Nate. Sometimes, I even hated him a little, but I still loved him, and I wanted him to be happy. I know I’m a mass of contradictions, but I can’t help feeling as I feel. Damn, things were so much easier when I was a kid! If I’d known life was going to be this difficult, I would’ve refused to grow up!
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Jon said. “That is just too lovey-dovey.”
I looked up. I’d been totally lost in my own thoughts. My brother and Dane were rubbing their noses together and grinning at each other with big, goofy smiles that could only mean they were in love.
“And all this time I thought you weren’t prejudiced,” Casey said.
“This has nothing to do with prejudice. It has to do with sickening sweetness. I could become a diabetic just watching those two.”
“Come on, Jon,” Brandon said. “I’ve seen you kiss girls in public, right before they screamed ‘rape’, of course.”
“Fuck you, Hanson. That’s just kissing. I don’t care if Tim and Dane fuck right on the table, but this Valentine Day card stuff makes me wanna hurl.”
“Well, I care if they fuck on the table,” Brandon said. “Who could eat with all that moaning?”
“Look at them! They’re not even paying attention!” Jon said.
It was true. Tim and Dane only had eyes for each other. They leaned in to kiss.
“Gentlemen, how are you getting along?” said Mr. Kerr, who was the te
acher on cafeteria duty.
That got Tim’s and Dane’s attention.
“Um, fine, Mr. Kerr,” Tim said.
“Good. Good.”
Brandon and Jon laughed after Mr. Kerr walked away from the table.
“He could have busted you guys if he wanted,” Jon said.
My brother and his boyfriend merely smiled and went back to gazing at each other.
“We’ve lost them again,” Brendan said.
“Yeah, like you and Casper aren’t almost as bad,” Jon said.
Brendan crossed his arms and mock-glared at Jon.
“Hey, just because you have to beg for your girlfriend to touch you…” Brendan said.
“Hey, she begs me!”
“And then you wake up,” Brandon said.
“Get a room, you two,” Jon said to Tim and Dane.
“You know where there’s one we can use?” Tim asked, hopefully.
“If I knew of such a place, I’d be there now,” Jon said.
“Yeah, whacking it to some porn,” Brandon said.
“So, they’re like this at soccer practice, too?” I asked Marc, indicating Jon and Brandon.
“Practice, the locker room, the showers; of course, they’re busy checking out all the other guys in the showers,” Marc said.
“Uh, you have us confused with you!” Brandon said.
“If you didn’t look so good naked, I wouldn’t be looking,” Marc said. “You have only yourself to blame.”
Thank God, I wasn’t taking a drink just then or I would’ve sprayed the table. Marc had balls.
“Yeah, I guess I can’t blame you,” Brandon said. “Who wouldn’t want to see me naked?”
Jon raised his hand, then Brendan, Ethan, Nathan, and well…everyone, except Marc. He could hardly raise his hand after what he’d said.
“Oh, screw all you guys!”
Everyone laughed.
“So, you are a homo, then,” Brandon said to Marc.