Trials and Triumphs I
By: Morris Henderson
(Copyright 2012 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 6
DÉJÀ VU ALL OVER AGAIN

Eric was finally able to stop crying and think about his predicament.  He still had no clue about why Brian was so upset or why he’d been ordered to leave.  What he did know, however, was that he was no longer welcome to stay.  If he did, both he and Brian would be miserable.  His parents had been very kind and would likely continue to acting in loco parentis but he was unwilling to stay if it meant continuation of the friction with Brian and disruption of the family.  As unpleasant as it was, there was only one thing to do: leave.

As he had done before when his father ordered him to leave, he gathered up some of his clothes and a few small items that were important to him.  He put them in a large plastic trash bag.  That and his backpack, filled with school books and papers, were all he could carry.  He considered saying goodbye to Brian but rejected the idea because it would only trigger another outburst.  In addition, he didn’t know whether he could remain composed because beneath the anguish of being treated harshly, there were still dying embers of affection for his friend who once had been a very pleasant companion.  Instead, he wrote a brief note:

I’m gone.  For good.  I’ll miss you.  At least the way you were once.

I can’t take all my things.  Do with them what you want.

Eric

P.S.  Thank your parents for their kindness and hospitality.

He left the house quietly and started walking.  To where, he didn’t know. 

Brian’s parents arrived home at four-thirty Monday morning from Sacramento. Mrs. Winston went straight to bed, thinking her two “sons” were sleeping and wouldn’t want to be disturbed.  Dr. Winston showered, fixed and ate a big breakfast, and left the house at six to make his hospital rounds before his first patient’s appointment in his office at nine.  It was not until seven Monday evening, at dinner, that the obvious question arose: “Where’s Eric?” Mrs. Winston asked.

Brian was prepared with an answer, one that would explain Eric’s disappearance and most likely lessen his parents’ displeasure at losing their ‘second son’.  “We had an argument,” Brian said with fake sadness.  “I’m afraid it got pretty ugly.  He stormed out of the house yesterday morning.  I don’t know where he went.”

What was the argument about?” his father asked.  “It must have been serious.”

“Yes, it was.”  Brian shrugged his shoulders and dropped his head but said no more.

“Come on, Brian,” his mother urged.  “Tell us what it was about and why he left.”

The young man hesitated before saying, “I woke up yesterday morning and Eric was....”  He stopped talking.

“Was what?” both of his parents demanded.

“He had his hand inside my underwear.  He was fondling my penis.  I pulled away from him and jumped out of bed.  I asked him why he was doing it.  He just grinned at me.  That made me mad.  He said as long as I had an erection he could take care of it for me.  I was shocked and told him NO WAY.  He begged me to let him.  He wanted — this part isn’t nice — he wanted to suck my penis.  I told him I didn’t want any part of homosexual stuff.  He kept pleading with me.  I called him a queer fag.  Then HE got mad.  We shouted at each other for a while.  Then he got dressed and left.”

The adults were shocked.  “And you haven’t seen him since yesterday morning?” his mother asked.

“I saw him in school today ... between classes ... in the hallway.  But he saw me, too.  He turned around and walked away from me.”

“Think, Son,” Dr. Winston urged.  “Where would he be likely to go ... to spend the night.”

“I haven’t a clue.  I know for sure he wouldn’t go back to his place because he was scared of what his dad would do to him.”

“Did he have any money for food?” his mother asked.

“I think so but I didn’t see him in the cafeteria at lunch today.”

“I’ll file a missing person report,” his father said.  “He may have perverted tastes in sex but he shouldn’t have to be alone with no place to stay.”

Brian was not prepared for that idea.  Thinking fast, he said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dad.  I don’t think Eric would want that.  If the police or somebody else finds him, they may try to return him to his father.  His safety and even his life may then be in danger.”  Just to strengthen his case, Brian added, “Even if it wasn’t, living with a drunken father is not what he’d want.  He told me that many times.”

Brian congratulated himself on telling a convincing lie that explained Eric’s disappearance AND (he hoped) made his parents feel better about losing their ‘second son’.  At least he had convinced them not to search for him and bring him back.  If they did that, the temptation to be friends again, to have more sex, and to jeopardize his long-term plans would be intolerable.

<><><><><> 

Having slept in a wooded area behind the high school building, he awoke sore from the hard ground, chilly, and hungry.  He checked his watch.  Six forty.  He had time to piss, sneak into the building through a rear entrance he knew would be unlocked, and freshen up in a bathroom.  Soap, water, and paper towels were a poor substitute for a hot shower but it was better than nothing.  Unfortunately, he had no razor so he would have to go through the day with stubble on his face.

It was after third period, just before lunch, when he saw Brian on his way to the cafeteria.  His former friend and might-have-been lover exhibited obvious signs of surprise but otherwise completely ignored Eric.  The exiled teen wanted to ask the reclusive loner whether his parents had come home and how they were but he didn’t because he would be subjected to yet another dose of venomous contempt.

Unlike their habit before the breakup, they sat at different tables.  For the remaining two weeks of the school year, they never spoke and rarely made eye contact.

After his third morning camping in the woods, he snuck into the school building to freshen up and shave.  (He had splurged on a cheap disposable safety razor but would have to use soap from the dispenser rather than shaving cream.)  On his way to the bathroom, however, one of the school custodians stopped him.  “Whatcha doin’ here?” he demanded.  “Ya know school ain’t open ‘till seven.”

“So I’m a little early,” Eric replied, trying not to sound belligerent or guilty.  “That’s not a problem, is it?”

“Yes, ‘tis,” the man replied.  “But there might be a bigger problem.  I seen ya walkin’ outta the woods.  Whatcha doing back there?”

“Studying nature,” Eric replied.

“Bull shit!” the man shot back.  “Ya ain’t the first lad who’s spent the night back yonder after a fight with his folks.  Now, ya gonna be honest with me?”

Eric weighed his options.  He could stick to his story but he was convinced the man wouldn’t believe it.  He could tell the truth and beg for understanding.  In spite of the man’s overt gruffness, Eric knew from past experience that he was basically a soft-hearted person so he confessed, “Okay.  I’m living back there.  Temporarily.  You see, I left my first home because my Dad got mean when he was drunk and that was every night.  I stayed at a friend’s house for a while.  But I can’t do that now.  I’d rather not explain why.  Let’s just say I’m not welcome there anymore.”

The custodian softened his tone considerably and asked, “How old are ya, Son?”

“Eighteen.”

“Pity.  If’n ya was younger, Family Services would find a place for ya to stay.  Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” Eric asked.

“To the kitchen in the cafeteria if it makes any difference.  Now come on.  We don’t have much time.”

In the dimly-lit kitchen, the man said, “I reckon if’n ya got no money for a place to stay, ya prob’ly got not much for food.”  He took two cheese sandwiches and two small cartons of milk out of the refrigerator.  “Stuff these in yur backpack, Sonny.  At least yur gonna have something to eat.  It ain’t much but maybe it’ll help.”

The kindly man was right; Eric had little to eat for three days and was down to his last fifteen dollars and seventy-nine cents.  “Thank you, Sir,” Eric said.  “But I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Let me worry ‘bout that.  Now listen up.  Tomorrow, I’ll be waitin’ for ya with somethin’ a bit more hearty.  Why yur in this pickle is none of my business an’ if’n ya don’t wanna talk ‘bout it, that’s okay.  But I don’t wanna see a fine young man waste away to nothin’.” 

For the remaining few days of the school year, Eric was supplied with food by the friendly custodian — not in abundance but easily enough for two meals a day.  During that time, he saw Brian at school frequently but they never spoke.  Also during that time, his grieving over having lost his home diminished.  As did his former affection for Brian.  However, he would carry the painful memories of being ejected from the house forever ... along with his confusion about what made Brian do it.

On the last day of school, Eric met the custodian (whose name he learned was Stan) as he entered the school well before the time it normally opened.  “Whatcha gonna do now that school’s over and yur graduatin’?” he asked.

“Get a job.  A paycheck.  A place to live.”

“I got a suggestion,” Stan said.  “For a place to live, I mean.  My next door neighbor is an old man.  Lives alone.  All crippled up with arthur-itis.  A college kid has been takin’ care o’ him but he graduated and is movin’ back East with a new job.  That leaves the old man with nobody to help ‘im ‘cause he can’t afford to hire nobody.  Fix meals.  Get dressed.  Get in and outta the tub.  Stuff like that.  If’n ya like, I’ll talk to ‘im.  He can’t pay ya but he’ll let you stay in a spare bedroom if’n ya would help him.  Before and after yur regular job, that is.  Would ya be interested in that?”

It was a “no-brainer” for Eric and he said, “I sure would, Stan.”

Stan grinned.  “Meet me at the back door — the one ya always sneak in through — when I get off work at five.  I’ll take ya to his place so’s ya can meet each other.”

Lady luck — and Stan’s compassion — solved Eric’s increasingly difficult problem of where to live.

<><><><><> 

The high school graduation was full of inspirational speeches, excited graduates, and proud parents and relatives.  No one in the audience was more proud than Dr. and Mrs. Winston.  Their son, in spite of being a social outcast, had persevered the taunts of snobbish classmates and the loneliness of isolation to earn his diploma ... with honors.  And he would be attending MIT in the fall.

Their joy and pride was tempered, however, by nagging worries about the fate of Eric, their ‘second son’, who had survived an abusive and emotionally wrenching ordeal but maintained his resolve to finish school.  They strongly disapproved of his sexually accosting Brian but were nevertheless concerned about his welfare.

Unlike nearly all of the graduating class, neither Brian nor Eric attended any graduation parties.  Eric did not even attend the graduation ceremony largely because he had no money to rent the cap and gown.  He regretted not being able to attend because it had been the goal that motivated him to stay in school in spite of the difficulties he faced — two periods of homelessness and the problems with his father and with Brian.  But he consoled himself with the knowledge that he had graduated.  And that he had shelter (He didn’t consider it a “home.”) and a job.

Perhaps his future would be brighter than his teen years.  But he didn’t realize at the time the surprising turn of events that would shape his future. 

To be continued...

My thanks to Iatia for his consistently meticulous editing and for his continuing encouragement.
 

Posted:07/27/12