A Helping Hand
By: DL
(Copyright 2007 by the Author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are
allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
dl@tickiestories.us
Reaching the town outskirts, I detoured back down the A45 and off at the Sainsbury's roundabout again, continuing on to the recently-built retail estate on the right. I parked outside the new MFI 'shed' and switched off; I could see Juan's curiosity was aroused from the way his head swivelled from side to side when we'd entered the car park and drove down to MFI. [Yes, I HAD been watching him in the driving mirror!] Opening my door, I said, "Come with me," and got out. I walked round to his side and opened the door and held it whilst he extracted himself, and then closed it and keyed the remote. I loved doing that: it beat poncing around with the key, especially when it was cold or wet! [And also, as a friend has recently pointed out [oh no you don't! Ed.; Oh yes I did! *Evil Grin*; author's always have the LAST word!; LOL], remote locking was a novelty back then!]
I took his arm and helped him navigate the awkward bit between the walkway and the car park (it was, I believe, designed to stop people taking shopping trolleys away from the stores it was also a bloody good obstacle course if you weren't agile or aware!) Reaching the pavement I dropped his arm and motioned him toward the door to MFI; he took the hint, but was obviously unaware of what the place sold. With no display windows in the exterior of the 'shed' he didn't find out until we were inside and through the internal doorway, stepping out onto the carpeted walkway which had a pseudo-traffic signboard pointing out the different destinations: Bathroom; Bedroom; Dining Room; Kitchen; Lounge were the options.
He stopped when he saw it and turned and looked at me, but I put my hand in the small of his back and gently pushed him onwards and past the sign down the 'Bedroom'-bound walkway, and once moving he didn't need further prompting, so I dropped my hand and followed in his wake: there were no crowds here to cause him discomfort. We turned into the section at the end of the corridor and were met by a sea of beds of all sorts and sizes. "I've never got around to furnishing the place properly, but I guess now is as good a time as any to start on the guest room?" I said as I waved him forward.
We walked around the aisles aimlessly and as my incipient dislike of 'retail therapy' was already starting to manifest itself, I said: "See anything you like how about that big pink bed over there, that'd go well with your blue pyjamas?" He turned and looked at me curiously. "Sorry, can't resist tormenting you." I said. Then I had a wicked idea: "Look, I should have furnished the place, but I've never got round to it. I'm not sleeping on that bloody bed/settee once you're better, and to be fair it would be a crime to make you sleep on it. So, you pick a bed that you like it needs to be a double." I had had an evil thought [my colleagues from work would tell you that this was not a rare occurrence: I had a warped sense of humour] and I thought as Juan wasn't being very forthcoming I'd embarrass him into doing the deed.
I looked around the large showroom and saw several assistants clustered around a computer over the far side; I grabbed Juan's elbow and led him towards them. As we walked towards them, I tried to change my expression, and not knowing how well I'd succeeded, said to the three assistants as we reached them, "Bloody teenagers: can one of you get him to make his mind up about a blasted bed?" and propelled him forward as I finished. There was a hushed silence; Juan blushed brightly, as did one of the assistants, the youngest probably not much older than Juan who looked sorrowfully at Juan as he stepped forward and said, "Yes, sir;" to me without looking at me. He touched Juan's elbow and said, "We've got some modern beds you might like over here," as he indicated an area over the far side, towards the door into the 'Bathroom' section, and escorted Juan towards it.
I watched them go and broke the deathly silence by turning to the two remaining silent assistants and saying, "Do you have any plain bedroom furniture: wardrobe, chest of drawers?" They exchanged glances and the elder one said, "Yes, sir; if you'd follow me," and pointed over the other side of the section. Given my stated aversion to shopping in all its forms, its no surprise that I'd picked a matched pair of light-wood wardrobes and a matching chest of drawers in a little over ten minutes.
We returned to the computer/cash desk and I paid, only asking how soon they could be delivered. The assistant hummed and hahhed, and I put a stop to that by saying if they couldn't be delivered by Monday/Tuesday I would find another shop that could. He quickly said that would be no problem, to which I replied that I hoped it wasn't as time was of the essence as far as the purchase was concerned. That got me a very old-fashioned look and I wondered if he knew any lawyers.
Meanwhile Juan and his new found 'friend' seemed to have finally arrived at a choice, so I wandered over and joined them. Juan scowled at me as I stopped by his side and the assistant whose name tag read 'Julian' flushed. "Well, found a bed?" I said to the room in general and Juan scowled again, though Julian said, "Yes, sir, Juan quite likes this one." As he said it, I looked at Juan, who flushed brightly, and then at Julian, who met my gaze without shrinking; I was thinking 'He knows Juan's name?' Julian was pointing to a nicely inoffensive double bed. I said to him, "And he likes it?" He looked at me with what I would describe as 'thinly-veiled contempt' as he said, "Yes, sir, it's the one Juan prefers from what we have on show." I thought to myself, 'he's got guts and he doesn't like me!' and, to be fair, I was beginning to feel that I'd been a heel and owed Juan an apology for my behaviour.
I tried to relax and not be 'Mr Nasty' as I said to Julian, "You seem to have got on well enough with Juan: at least he's speaking to you." That got a blush from them both. "How soon can it be delivered? I've already bought some other furniture from your colleague over there," (I pointed) "and have been promised that it will be delivered either Monday or Tuesday; can this be delivered then as well?" Julian said, "I'll just check, sir" and walked over to the older assistant who had served me. I looked at Juan, which was enough to make him blush again and look away.
Julian returned and said, "That'll be fine; we just need to process the payment." I looked at him and said, "How much has Juan told you?" That got a blush from them both; Julian looked at his shoes. Watching them both, I did something that before Juan I would never have done in a million years: I reached out and touched Julian's arm, causing him to look up. "Help me out here, would you? I can't seem to get through to Juan but need to; you apparently can without any problem."
He looked at me thoughtfully. "I'm not really such a low-life," I said. "I just couldn't seem to get through to Juan, and thought that challenging him might do the trick I didn't expect what appears to have happened, though." That made him think. I had been thinking even as I'd said it that I wanted to talk to Julian without Juan around, and I took the opportunity to extract my car keys. I held them out to Juan and said, "Please go and wait for me in the car." He looked at me, then the car keys and finally at Julian, and reluctantly took the keys and turned and walked off. I turned my attention to Julian, who was studying me closely. "Sorry, Julian. My name's Dave I don't know whether Juan told you?" He nodded, but still didn't say anything.
"What else did he tell you?" I asked. Julian thought momentarily, before replying, "Everything he's very uptight at the moment." That startled me, and I obviously showed it, as Julian grinned; but it had also given me another mad idea: "So, if I offered you £50 for the night with a meal thrown in, what would you say?" He looked at me strangely and said "What do you mean, 'for the night'?" I blushed as I realised how inappropriately my remark could have been taken. "Sorry, I simply meant that I would pick you up with Juan and we'd go to a restaurant, have a meal, hopefully talk and then we'd drop you back at your place." He looked at me and insightfully replied: "He means that much to you?" staring at me. I blushed and quietly said, "Yes." He hesitated slightly, and then said "OK." I was so surprised that he'd agreed, and said "Thank you very much if Juan actually talks to you it'll be money well spent."
I reached for my wallet and took out five ten pound notes, folded them in half and held them out to Julian [back then, as the network of cash machines was unreliable and I worked long hours, I usually carried between £200£300 in cash in my wallet]. His eyes widened as he saw the money and he looked at me and said, "You'd trust me, just like that?" I knew what he meant, and said simply, "Juan seems to think you can be trusted much more than that should I not believe him?"
He looked at me thoughtfully for several moments and then shook his head and said, "No thanks: I'd rather not take your money before I've earned it." I smiled and said, "Juan seems to be a good judge of character." He laughed and said, "Maybe, but he doesn't know what to make of you: your mood seems to change for no reason and he's completely lost."
"What do you mean?" I said. "Well, he told me about the bathroom after he'd peed himself and about 'buying blue' in Tesco," he replied. I was totally and utterly floored, and think I actually stood there with my mouth open. Julian looked at me and said, "Don't be upset: he was so happy that you cared for him enough to clean him up without kicking the shit out of him for pissing on your carpet " I couldn't believe Juan had told this kid that, but how else could he have known? " but he couldn't fathom out why on earth you made him buy everything blue, or what had caused your behaviour in here just now" he finished.
"I obviously should have brought him here to buy a bed first, shouldn't I?" I replied. He grinned again. "Do you have a restaurant you like to go to? Or one you'd like to try?" I asked. He frowned, so I said, "I haven't eaten out in years, and what started events in here was trying to get Juan to suggest something he would like to eat. So, as you seem to be the key to Juan, do you have any ideas on a good place to go?" He looked at me thoughtfully and said, "There's a nice carvery out on the Sudbury road called the Coaching House. It's fairly expensive, though." I smiled and said, "Did Juan tell you about the service station?" He smiled as well and said, "Yeah."
At this point Juan walked up to us. I was surprised and looked at him, saying "Something wrong?" He simply replied: "You never said how long you'd be I thought you might have abandoned me." He laughed as he said it and I had to smile: the change in him was apparent.
Turning back to Julian I said, "So, Julian, the bed?" giving him my credit card. He disappeared, returning shortly with the slips to sign and a pro-forma invoice. I signed the slips and, once he'd returned my card, pocketed the invoice, my copy of the card slip and the card. I took my notepad, wrote my phone number on a clean sheet of paper, tore it off and handed it to him. "If you'll call when you get home, I'll make a reservation and can let you know what time what about if I try and get one for about 7 o'clock?" I said. "That'll be fine," he replied. I held out my hand and he shook it. "Does this mean you are coming with us for a meal?" Juan asked, looking from me to Julian and then addressing Julian. "Yes," Julian replied, "we're going to a posh carvery. You'll like it good food and soft lighting."
That last remark puzzled me at first, and I thought about it carefully and then the bulb in my brain lit up. As it did so, I looked at Julian, and he smiled and I knew that he'd sensed that I'd worked it out. As if to make sure, he looked at Juan's face and then back to me. I'd suddenly thought that Juan was upset about his appearance, and his being the centre of attention because of it.
I felt even more of a heel. I'm by nature a loner; being gay and a confirmed Christian: struggling with the dichotomy between those two states can and in my case had make you shut yourself carefully away from other people so they don't get close enough to you to discover your secret [because then they wouldn't want to know you]. Everybody who knew me had me pegged as shy and withdrawn: I definitely tried VERY hard NOT to be anywhere even remotely near the centre of attention. In those passing moments I kicked myself for not thinking at all about how Juan might be feeling: I'd been too caught up in how Juan affected me [legally, morally] to think about his needs and feelings.
We said our goodbyes to Julian, and Juan seemed happier at the news that we were going out for a meal with him. I'd been thinking like mad ever since Julian had floored me by telling me how much Juan had told him and demonstrating it, by mentioning Juan's accident in my bedroom. I so much wanted to find out from Julian exactly what he knew had Juan told him anything he hadn't told me?
As we exited the store and returned to the car my mind had roved ceaselessly over how to extract what Julian knew without upsetting Juan. By the time we reached the car I had made two decisions. Acting on the first, when we left MFI I simply drove just down the road and into the adjacent Currys car park [it saved Juan walking].
I parked, got out and waited for Juan; he was a bit slow as he hadn't expected that I would take him anywhere else. I took the opportunity to walk round the car and opened his door, leaning in so he couldn't get out. "Juan, I am sorry for my behaviour back over there" nodding towards MFI, "and I promise I won't do it again, OK?"
Juan replied, "Sure. I was just surprised when you did that bit about the bed and I didn't know what I'd done wrong."
"You didn't do anything wrong. We did because we didn't talk to each other, and worse, I did by acting totally immaturely and humiliating you. I'm sorry, really I am.
"Anyway, I'd like you to come with me," I went on, stepping back and holding his door open. We wandered over to the Currys electrical store and I stopped just inside the outer door, moving Juan to one side and said, "I'm going to buy you something to make amends for my behaviour; then we'll pick up a few other things, OK?"
Juan looked at me and said, "You really don't have to buy me anything: you've already bought me far more than I deserve."
"Don't start that," I said. "It's up to me if I want to buy something for you because you need it. And how can you say that you don't deserve a change of clothing?"
He hung his head and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to seem ungrateful. What I was trying to say was that you've been too kind to me: I don't need all the things you bought me and my Dad would never have done it."
I grimaced as he said the last bit and said: "OK, well, let's not start on a subject that I think we're both uncomfortable with. Let's leave that for when you're better and I'm not feeling such a louse. For now, I do feel a louse, and that's all my fault. I know what I want to buy you, but I can't trust you to buy what you want and not the cheapest "
He started to interrupt, and I held my hand up and shushed him. "I know you promised, but just leave it and let me ask you a question when we leave, OK? For now, just go and look at the televisions and try and find one you think might be good for my guest room not your bedroom, OK? while I go and find a sales assistant."
He ambled off to the televisions and I went and found the sales supervisor, figuring that it might be easier trying to explain myself to her than to one of the youngsters of Juan's age who were employed as sales assistants. [I should mention that I'd bought the equipment nearly £2,000 worth for my kitchen here, and consequently had met the lady before.] I found her with a couple over by the freezers and loitered patiently until she was free, at which point I intercepted her. I explained that I had a friend for whom I wished to buy a portable CD/Radio Walkman, but that he had a regrettable tendency to annoy the hell out of me by buying the cheapest. I asked if she or one of her staff could select, say, half-a-dozen good ones for Juan to pick from but without them being in a display case with prices that he could see. Once she realised that I was saying that Juan would pick one without knowing what it cost she appreciably warmed to the idea I had thought she might!
I left her to arrange a selection and wandered over to where Juan was surveying the TVs. He was obviously undecided and I was unsurprised: he would only really be happy if he was spending his own money. Shortly the supervisor approached, and before going with her I asked if she could arrange for a Sony 21-inch TV and Amstrad twin-deck VCR to be brought out for me. Then I took hold of Juan's arm and led him off behind the supervisor. She'd got half a dozen decent Walkmans with their boxes out by the cash desk no prices! and I said to Juan, "I want you to pick one of these. Take your time and just have a look at the boxes, check the specs and pick the one you would like and it's no good asking because they know that you're NOT to know what they cost."
He looked at me and I could see that he was starting to get upset, so I led him away so I could quietly talk to him. "Listen, Juan, please just pick one without embarrassing us both, and we can talk back at the car. But we're not leaving here until you have picked one and I don't want you to be embarrassed or for you to embarrass me, so just take a couple of deep breaths and calm down." He quietened down, and after a couple of minutes, I said, "You OK now?" and he smiled wanly and said, "Yeah." I led him back to the cash desk and he started to examine the boxes and their contents.
I moved over to the supervisor and asked if I could have another word, and she nodded and we stepped away from the cash desk. I looked at Juan and back to her and she said quietly, "I did as you asked: Matt's been told to answer any question about the machines but not to say anything at all about price or which is more expensive."
"Thank you," I said, moving further away from Juan. I asked her if they had any Sennheiser earphones and she confirmed that they did, but they were locked away because they were expensive something I already knew, along with the fact that they were some of the best earphones money could buy. She led me over to a glass display cabinet and unlocked it and I selected a pair of ear-muff type phones, and simply asked her if they would work with the Walkmans Juan was choosing from. She confirmed they would and I said I'd take them; she removed a boxed set from the case, replaced the display ones and locked the cabinet, and we both walked over to watch Juan examining the Walkmans.
Eventually, nearly ten minutes later, Juan settled on a silver Sony with automatic station tuning for the radio. I was certain that he'd never have picked it if he had known the price. Once he'd chosen it I pointed him to the music rack and told him to pick three albums to go with his new player. While he was occupied I paid for the Walkman and the headphones as well as the TV and VCR they had no problem with arranging delivery of these for the next Monday and consequently I was smugly happy when he returned with his CDs. He looked puzzled when I just paid for the CDs and I said I'd already paid for the player, and held up the bag. He looked at me as he realised that he'd been had, and I smiled.
For those regular readers who may have failed to note the added Introduction to this story, can I respectfully ask you to view the moving tribute to a young man, tragically and brutally, murdered recently http://www.myspace.com/inmemoryofryan07. I would warn you that it is, I believe, a deeply moving and poignantly emotional site. May you finally rest in peace, Ryan.
To be continued
