Chapter 13
Christmas was supposed to be a happy time, but for me it had almost always been a time of painful memories. In the last lifetime, Mom and Jenny had both died in a car accident on Christmas Day, but that was only the icing on the cake for my dislike of Christmas. This year was my first Christmas in this, my third lifetime, and so far I didn't like it much either.
Most of why I didn't like the upcoming Christmas holiday had to do with several recent events, and with my memories of things to come just around the corner. The establishment of the AIDS Quarantine program was now almost two weeks old and it was not going well by my standards. When the National Guard moved in on the bathhouses and similar businesses, they'd been met by riots.
Yes, riots.
That's something gay people of both my last two lifetimes seemed to have forgotten about their history. Gay people rioted several times in the earlier years of the struggle for gay rights. The most famous riot was of course the Stonewall incident where a raid on a gay bar instigated a riot in New York City. When Harvey Milk, San Francisco's first elected openly gay City Supervisor was assassinated with Mayor Moscone, that city's gay population became very agitated. When his killer was given a lighter sentence based in part on the first-ever use of the "Twinkie Defense", clashes happened with San Francisco police. The result was a riot that left burned cars along Market Street from the Castro to City Hall.
That happened not too long ago in this timeline, and when the Guard forces moved in, San Franciscans remembered the power of the riot and stormed the streets. They learned sadly that there's a difference between Police and Guard forces, mostly in regards to the use of deadly force. Forty-eight people were killed by the Guard troops in the first clash, breaking the spirit of the riot and sending people shrieking back to their homes. Similar riots had taken place in Chicago, Los Angeles, and New York. Surprisingly, something similar had happened in Reno, but with the legal prostitutes who were shocked they would be required to submit for testing. Of the riots, only the Reno riot did not result in a high body count.
Almost as bad were the responses of the nation's 'good' Christian folk. The rhetoric, and hatred was far worse than I remembered from even the first lifetime. Two major television evangelists had both publicly advocated the 'euthanasia' of anyone infected to make sure they couldn't infect anyone else. They also were advocating the rounding up and imprisonment of every homosexual, every prostitute, and every drug user. One of them even advocated shipping all of us to some island where we could not possibly escape.
The scary part was that these proposals were gaining ground rapidly in the general population as the fear of AIDS grew. The last poll I saw in a newspaper said that nearly forty-eight percent of people polled thought the President's measures didn't go far enough. Congress had already met and voted through his proposals almost unanimously. Only a handful of Democrats and Republicans, both at the extreme opposite ends of the political spectrum, voted against the proposals and mostly because they viewed them as an affront to the principles of the foundations of the country. I really had thought the Democrats who controlled Congress would have resisted more, but the polls on public opinion showed that nearly eighty-four percent of the country believed the President's proposals were in the best interests of the country. That support was hard to argue against, so they caved and passed the proposals.
There had been some nasty reactions when the AIDS Oversight Commission (as it was now called) had been named. Dad's name was officially on that list, surprising Mom and most of the church. When Dad told her I was going with him, she'd hit the roof and flatly refused to hear any more. She didn't want me to go and even threatened to leave Dad if he took me 'into that danger' as she put it bluntly. I'd gotten out of bed and added my voice to the argument, which only causing her to get more upset, especially since she knew something was going on with me but didn't know exactly what.
The argument had ended with her agreeing that I could go to at least the San Francisco center, although she was not happy in the least. She'd even announced she was going to drive back to Nanny's for Christmas in her RX-7 instead of the new Eagle we'd just bought for family trips. She'd taken off this morning at a hundred miles per hour and left us well behind. By the time Dad and I had reached Reno, she was probably in Sacramento with little more than an hour to Modesto and Nanny's house. She had Jenny with her, and she hadn't even said goodbye. I'm sure she didn't even THINK about stopping to play the slots in Reno this time.
Dad suggested I might want to reconsider going to San Francisco, but he understood the look I gave him and he backed down. To my surprise, he'd moderated his initial position on this, and had stood as a voice for reason in our church and community. He'd even gone to the Alpine Lodge, the local brothel, and had a long, productive talk with the people who worked there without appearing as if he was judging them in any way. For me, that boded well for our later visits, but it got Mom upset and she had not calmed down at all.
Mike Andrews, the CIA agent who had been assigned as my 'handler' was having the worst time since the phone call. The blame for my friends discovering me during the phone call with the President was laid squarely on his shoulders. With the senior administrators of the CIA already upset about the fallout for them from the Dr. Grimes affair, they had started to come down hard on Mike. Fortunately for him, despite being different than the last timeline, President Reagan still held a great deal of loyalty to good people. It was the President who'd kept Mike from being discharged and kept him on as my 'handler', mostly at my own request. Besides, Mike had been told I was sharing a room with Derek, not David, or he'd have verified he was speaking to the right David.
As for my friends, they were taking the news with the same level of exuberance I'd gotten from Trevor, Brandon, and even Brian when they first found out. The biggest difference was that they wanted to know all about my last life, what it was like, what happened when I was 'growing up' that time. To say that they were uncomfortable about the 'gay' relationship at first was an understatement. Sure, the twins had been fooling around with each other for a year, and Derek had fooled around with Sam on that trip, but with the quarantine thing going on, and everything else, they were both fascinated and horrified at discussing the concept of living as openly gay.
One thing I had yet to hear from any of them was if they thought of themselves as gay, bi, or straight and just messing around. I had a very strong feeling that Derek would claim he was straight forever, and was really bi or just messing around. Sam would claim he was bi, and might even date a few girls in school, even have sex with some of them, but it was guys that got him hard and turned his head. David didn't come out and say it, but he'd left pretty strong hints he was attracted to guys. I understood why he wouldn't say it though, because he didn't want his brother to feel pigeonholed by David's admission. A few days after we'd come back from winning the Championship (55 to 54 for those interested in score keeping. In a typical movie-type ending, I was fouled in the last minute of the game by the big brute from Jackpot. I missed my first free throw, and the gym was silent as I made the second one. The cheers from the crowd and being lifted onto the shoulders of my teammates were quite gratifying, especially because I SUCK at basketball.), Tammy and Julie had caught on that something was up and all but cornered Derek and I to spill the beans. I'd already discussed it with Mike, and if Derek was in on the secret, it would only be a matter of time until Julie and Tammy found out, so they were brought into the loop, at least on the time-travel part of things. They still didn't know about me being gay. That secret was just amongst us boys.
It was actually a good thing that Derek knew my secret because at the end of the semester, my grades were higher than his. I'd earned a perfect 4.0 for the semester while he'd gotten a 3.9. Instead of freaking out that someone had gotten the best grades besides him, he just shrugged and said it was because I'd already been through college.
Twice.
It is often remarked that people in rural areas are 'simpler' than city-folk. It was something that was generally true, mostly because unlike city-folk, those in rural areas are more likely to take a person at face value until that person wrongs them. Then they'll remember the wrong you caused forever. It is simpler, yet it is also more gratifying and more real than what city-folks often give. My friends exemplified this, by not turning their backs on me or treating me in any way that was really different. The differences were mostly because it was a secret that had to be kept, and they were dedicated to doing that as much for my welfare as for theirs.
The drive to California had begun with relative silence as Dad fumed over his latest argument with Mom. Their argument reminded me that any relationship would always have rocky ground. Brian and I had a few fights over the years, but we always managed to resolve them relatively peacefully. Eventually we'd find some compromise that we could live with and moved on with our lives together. Mom and Dad didn't have that history of compromise. Both expected to get their own way far too often and that caused a lot of unnecessary friction between them. After we'd wound our way through the snow-clogged Austin Pass, Dad started up a conversation about a potential land deal in Eureka.
The Dallas family had suffered a tragedy of sorts. Their son Claude Lafayette had just been sentenced to life in prison in Idaho for the killing of a Game Warden. They were looking to sell their property and move out of Eureka. The property included a mobile home park with sixty units. Dad wanted me to take the money I had in the bank and use it to buy the land outright. Then he'd manage the property.
While land values were increasing slightly with the new base in the area, current population projections were not enough for the investment to give me the returns I was currently getting from stock investments. Giving up a twenty-percent annual return rate for maybe ten or fifteen percent at most did not make much sense. However, a recent report I'd received as part of my work packet included the possibility of including the Diamond Valley facility as part of a test-platform for the Strategic Defense Initiative that was just getting underway. Another paper had included a recommendation to make the facility a back up for the Single Integrated Operational Plan (SIOP) nuclear disaster protocol's communications program. Since we weren't currently on any list for Soviet nukes, it was likely to be approved. Either or both plans being approved would increase the base population by at least one thousand active-duty personnel with associated increases in dependents and civilian support staff. That would conversely increase the demand for local realty, and I'd paid a visit to the site on the last day of school, along with David and Sam.
The property was old, first having been converted to use as a mobile home park in the mid-1950's. It needed new water and electrical connections, a new set of septic systems, and generous landscaping improvements to what was basically a big, dirt lot. The gravel driveway would also have to be improved. I ate dinner that night at the Wells house and David's father had told me that the lot hadn't seen a profit since the silver mine closed in 1974. While looking the property over, I'd noticed they only had four tenants as well.
As if he wasn't busy enough, Dad had dreams of owning his own property. He wanted me to buy the land, and to eventually pay me back for it when it started turning a profit. We could buy it now for less than eighty grand, but it would take another thirty grand or more to improve it to a level where I could comfortably lease space to military families. With twenty decent-sized lots on the land, and a rental charge of two-hundred fifty per month (which was actually a little above current rates in the area) the annual income would only be around sixty grand. Annual maintenance, landscaping, insurance, and other operational costs would eat up close to half that amount. It would take nearly four years to recoup our initial investment.
Dad had given up pushing me to agree to the plan just after leaving Fallon. The drive to Reno was almost completely in silence until he asked where I wanted to eat an early dinner. We still had another five hours to go, and if we ate now we wouldn't have to stop again until we reached Modesto. With a shrug I suggested the El Dorado, where he could pig out on the buffet. Over dinner he chatted softly about my decisions about sports for the next semester.
He had been surprised that I'd earlier mentioned I'd be choosing Track this year instead of baseball. Both David and Sam had pushed for me to be on the team with them, but I had far too many memories of playing that sport with Brian to be comfortable with playing it without him around. David was also starting to worry me. I was pretty confident he was developing a school-boy crush on me and I didn't want to think of messing up his life by encouraging him to chase after me. Neither did I want to lose him as a friend when I ended up having to set him down if he went too far, so playing a different sport than him would be a good thing. Add in the fact that Derek was going out for Track as well, and was happy I'd be there with him, and my decision made a lot more sense.
After eating we hit the road again and headed up into the Sierra Nevada mountain range that separated California and Nevada. The new border inspection stations stopped us and searched the truck for contraband fruits or vegetables. By the time we began to ascend the high mountains, snow had begun falling. Not more than thirty miles from where the Donner Party had been stranded, and eventually resorted to cannibalism to stay alive, we stopped and put chains on the tires. Another stop on the other side of the mountains was to take the chains off and proceed through slush that eventually turned into rain. Thanks to the slow travel, we pulled into Modesto and took the Ceres exit at almost midnight. Nanny and Grandma lived right around the corner from each other, but we were staying at Nanny's for this holiday. Mom's RX-7 was already in front of Nanny's house as we pulled up. It had stopped raining here, so we got the luggage out of the back (ironically we had about half of mom's and Jenny's luggage since she couldn't fit much in her car) as well as all the gifts we'd brought.
"You're here!" Nanny's cry of joy as we made it to the door of the house was quite evident in her voice. Her house was covered in a moss green paint just as it had been for most of my young life, and was just as ugly as ever. Nanny herself was in an old red housecoat with her strawberry-blond hair done up nicely. Her glasses reflected the porch light as she tried to hug me without dislodging any of the stuff I was holding. With some shuffling we got inside and started setting stuff in the entryway just past the kitchen door. I was surprised to see the faces of a few cousins. My mom's sister Fran's children were apparently staying over, which meant it was going to be a crowded house. Shantill was there with her long blond hair. She was my height and three years older. Except for her lazy eye, most guys would think of her as beautiful. Aunt Fran had four children by three different men (two she was married to, one she wasn't). Christopher was Shantill's younger half-brother by one year (two years older than me) and had dark hair that was parted over one side of his face with his bangs hanging below his eye in a typical early-eighties preppy style. His clothes were total preppy as well as he got up from the living room couch and nodded in our direction. Next to Shantill were the younger kids, Josh had blond hair like his mother and older sister, and was two years younger than me while Tiffany was also blond and three years younger. All four stared at me and I wondered if it was the fact that I was much more well-built, which was showed off fairly well by the tight t-shirt I wore under the leather trench coat, or maybe the trench coat itself, or the fact that I was wearing cowboy boots (something I'd never worn in two lifetimes) that was garnering all the stares. Jenny broke the silence as Dad fumbled in after us with a squeal of pleasure.
"Dad!" She squealed as she rushed from the kitchen to give him a hug, and then it was my turn. "Davey! We thought you guys were going to be snowed in!"
"Naw, we made it before the storm got too bad." Dad said with a smile.
"I see you finally got here." Mom said from the kitchen where she was frowning at us. Oh boy, she was still pissed off as hell.
"Yes, we did make it safely." Dad said softly. "How was your drive, honey?"
"Just fine thank you very much." Mom said and then turned her back on us to head into the living room. Jenny, with her blond hair matching Shantill's and Tiffany's smiled up at me sheepishly.
"She's still mad about whatever they were arguing about earlier." Jenny said softly.
"Maybe I should go sleep at my Mom's." Dad said softly and Jenny frowned at him. He chuckled at her frown and ruffled her hair. "Or then again maybe not."
"Grandma's is full anyway." Jenny said with a shrug. "Aunt Carol and Uncle Ben came down with Michele and Michael. Brian's having to sleep on the family room couch so they can have his room. Michele is on the couch in Aunt Bev's room, and Michael is on the living room couch."
"It looks pretty full here as well." Dad teased her and she frowned.
"You and Mom have the back bedroom like always." Jenny retorted. "I'm sleeping in the middle room with Tiffany and Shantill. Josh gets the living room couch and Davey's sleeping with Chris in the family room."
"Okay, okay, it sounds like you've got it all planned." Dad said with a chuckle.
"She's been making plans all night." Josh said with a roll of his eyes.
"Well, why don't you help us get the rest of the stuff in the house, big guy?" Dad said with a smile for Josh who brightened up at the suggestion. Fran's current husband, and Josh's father, was not a nice man, I remembered. He was an alcoholic and Fran was likely to send her kids over to Nanny's whenever he got really bad. Growing up the first time around, I'd been a lot closer to Josh, Shantill, Chris, and Tiffany because I'd been over here a lot. Before I followed them out I went into the kitchen to give Nanny and Mom hugs. Mom was tense as I hugged her, but Nanny seemed to appreciate it at least. It was a given that Mom had bent Nanny's ears about events back in Nevada and there'd be words later on. For now, though, she was happy to see me at least.
As I trudged back outside to help with the rest of the stuff (Chris should have helped, but he'd always been somewhat lazy as a kid, never doing more than he had to and always shying away from male adults while Josh was always craving attention and praise.), I thought again about Nanny and Papa, and their prejudices. As much as I loved them, I had to admit they were some of the most prejudiced people I'd ever known. Born in Arkansas at the end of World War I, they'd moved to California during the Great Depression, each married to a different person. Papa had five children by his first wife, who'd died in some type of accident while Nanny had three girls from her first marriage. Her first husband had been a drinker and a womanizer, and she'd kicked him out after he'd gambled away another paycheck. She met Papa soon after at church and before her first marriage had been legally absolved, she'd moved in with him and gotten a pastor to bless them as married (she wouldn't sleep with Papa until she had that blessing either!).
Papa's oldest child, a woman named Edith was someone I never met in any of my previous lifetimes. When she was eighteen (during the Vietnam war era), she met and married a black man. As Nanny said, "If you want to marry one of those people fine, just never expect me to accept them in my home." Since then, Edith had made her own way in life and Fran was the only member of the family she ever kept in contact with. I'd met Edith's daughter once, in my first lifetime, at Aunt Fran's house. The other seven kids though kept in better contact and between them had produced twenty-two grandkids. Two of those grandkids had also married or had children by people of black or Hispanic descent and also faced Nanny's ostracization. Any who came out as gay, except for me had faced a similar treatment. It was me coming out in my first lifetime that had gotten Nanny to reconsider on that at least (although she never relented on 'mixing the races'). In the last life, after Mom's untimely death, she'd rarely spoken to me again, and after Brian and I had gotten married, she had little to do with me until Alzheimer's caught up with her and I'd been appointed the Conservator of her estate.
"Are you a cowboy now?" Josh's question as we re-entered the house caught me off-guard, and it was only Jenny's laughter that saved me.
"He's not a cowboy." Jenny said with disdain. "He's only gone riding like four or five times. He spends all morning running with those military guys, or playing sports for school or hanging out with his friends. They bought him those and he's just wearing them to break them in."
"That's right, Jenny's the real cowboy in the family." I teased my little sister who pouted at me petulantly. "She spends every minute she can at the Jerkins ranch riding horses."
"You do?" Shantill asked my sister in a voice that bordered on awe. A vague memory from my first lifetime reminded me Shantill adored horses. Every surface in her bedroom at home was covered with toy horses. "I'm going to have to get Mom to let me come visit you out there and you can take me riding."
"You bet." Jenny said with a bright smile. She'd always looked up to Shantill. The two girls disappeared into the middle bedroom with Tiffany in tow, talking excitedly about the horses on the ranch while Dad directed Josh and I to take the appropriate luggage to the correct room. All the gifts (and we'd bought gifts for every single Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin in both Mom and Dad's families) were put under the tree except for those that went to Grandma Jones's house. We would take those over in the morning. After we were done, Dad went into the kitchen and sat down at the table to call his mother and let her know we were there.
"Dammit, why isn't everyone in bed yet?" Papa's querulous voice rang out in the hallway making me jump slightly. He stopped when he saw me, gave me a wink and held out his hand for me to shake. "Good, you two made it at last, did ya? Well, Nanny's done made up a pallet for you and Chris in the family room. You just get on down there and get ready for bed while I round everyone else up and get them to bed."
"Sure thing, Papa." I said as I shook his hand. I knew better than to argue with the man when he was in this mood. With a bit of quickness in my step, I went back into the kitchen, gave Nanny and Mom a hug and kiss goodnight and headed down into the family room. Papa had been a carpenter before his quadruple bypass two years ago. By the twenty-first century such surgeries were rather commonplace, but in 1979 they were relatively complex surgeries. He'd been considered disabled since then and retired with full benefits by his union. Before all that though, he'd converted the garage of their house into a very nice family room, complete with big-screen television. They had just replaced the projector version that used three lights to transmit a picture to a mirror, which then reflected it to a screen for a regular tube-type that must have cost around two thousand. Another dim memory reminded me that when I moved to Sacramento in my first lifetime with a guy who would end up dumping me two years later, Nanny had given me this very television for our apartment. Of course she'd never admit she was giving it to me AND my boyfriend. It was just a gift for me and I happened to be sharing an apartment with another guy - a studio apartment at that.
There wasn't any wall between the dining area and the family room, so the light from that room was more than enough to see my bag on the couch where Josh had put it earlier. Chris was already wearing some green and black patch pajama bottoms and a t-shirt so I pulled out a pair of my gold and green sweatpants from my school's team. I could hear Chris let out a snort as I sat down to pull off my cowboy boots. Being the preppy he was, he probably disapproved of my tight 501 jeans and boots. His snort, and the fact that I was pretty wound up from the long drive caused me to snap a little.
"Shut up." I said to him derisively. He looked shocked at my statement. "Just because you don't like my clothes doesn't make them any less expensive or less worthy than yours."
"I didn't say anything." Chris said defensively, with his voice cracking a little. "It's not my fault you live in Hicksville."
"I happen to like it out there." I said just as defensively as I finished taking off my boots, stretched my sore feet out and then proceeded to take off my pants. I could see him studying me closely as he laid down on one of the pallets Nanny had made up. It was kind of cold in the room, but there were plenty of blankets so I slipped on the sweatpants and kept just my t-shirt on. The sound of movement from the dining room told me the adults were heading to bed, so I finished getting my sweats on and got ready to snuggle up in the pallet that had been made up for me. It was basically a mattress pad with two blankets over it, a sheet and then two more blankets.
"You boys keep it quiet, you here?" Papa directed from the dining room.
"Sure thing, Papa." I called out and the lights went out a moment later.
"Suck up." Chris teased me and I snorted.
"You'd do with learning how to be a little more polite." I countered and wondered why I was being so testy with him. Maybe it was a little resentment that he had nothing really serious to deal with while I had all these issues both with my family and the government going on. Then again, I was a lot older mentally.
"Whatever." Chris groaned out and shifted a little on the pallet. Just beyond our heads, the Christmas tree was standing, casting a slight shadow as some light leaked in through the heavy curtains over the patio door. It was Nanny's classic artificial tree, already a dozen years old and she'd kept that tree all the way up until she went into a nursing home in both my previous lifetimes. I lay there for at least twenty minutes, with only the sound of Chris's breathing and pondered all the differences between my three lifetimes and wondered where everything was going. My thoughts eventually started to drift to Brian, who was now only a dozen miles away, and I wondered if maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to get a glimpse of him. There were no security guards here, no one following my movements. I could maybe sneak off sometime tomorrow and go see him, just to look at him from afar if that was all I could do. Even that would be better than not seeing him at all.
Yep, the government had been right. Had I stayed here, I would have already done my best to get back together with him, and that would have opened up a whole other can of worms. It wasn't like he couldn't be trusted to keep my secrets, which left homophobia as the underlying reason. Or was it concern over a form of pedophilia? Would it make me a pedophile if I went and reinitiated my relationship with him? No, it wouldn't because I wasn't after him as the boy he was now, but rather the man I knew he would grow up to become. As much as I'd loved him at this age, he'd bloomed into a wonderful man over the years, a man I loved far more than I had when he was twelve.
A nudging sensation against my leg brought my attention back to the room I was in and more memories flashed through my head. They were from my first lifetime, and as Chris's hand began rubbing against my thigh, I was held frozen with shock. I hadn't been in this situation in my last lifetime, thanks to Brian, and I'd let something go by that I never should have.
It was on this night in my first lifetime that I'd first had sex with another boy. It had been fumbling, and nowhere near as satisfactory as any moment with Brian, but it had set me off into the world of sex well enough. Chris and I had been casual partners for years afterwards, and never even discussed it once. In fact, it had been two years and eight people later in that first lifetime that I learned someone could actually speak or make noises during sex.
I also knew the history behind Chris's hand reaching out to me on this night, and that knowledge spurred me to act. Carefully, but with a firmness that could not be denied, I moved my hand to his and grasped it tightly. I could here a slight gasp of shock as he tried to pull the hand away, and then a sigh as he figured out it wasn't pushing him away. He misinterpreted that as permission to come closer, though, and he moved slightly towards me on his pallet. My next action, sitting up and turning to face him while moving his hand into my lap and cupping it with both of mine surprised him though, and even in the dim light there was no mistaking the fear on his face.
"Chris, we need to talk." I said as softly as I could. No more than twenty minutes had passed and it wasn't unusual for Nanny and Papa to get up and check on the kids or to get a glass of water.
"I…I wasn't…" Chris stammered with fear but my firm gaze caught his eyes and his voice broke off.
"Chris, we both know what you were thinking, what you were wanting, and I'm flattered." I said gently, still as softly as I could. His eyes went wide at my words, and there was less fear now. "Sex can be a very beautiful thing, and it can be a very nasty thing. Where we were headed tonight if I hadn't stopped you would have been something we both wanted and enjoyed, but that doesn't make it right."
"What are you talking about?" Chris's voice was a little too loud and he looked towards the dining room nervously. I almost chuckled as that brought up many memories of my first lifetime where the two of us would be having sex in this very spot and worrying that someone would catch us. Nanny almost did a few dozen times over the years.
"There's a difference between what might have happened here between us tonight and what's been going on with you and your neighbor." I continued softly and he tried to jerk his hand out of mine when he heard those words. He actually whimpered.
"How do you know?" Chris muttered through tears that were forming on his face and he whimpered again. He tried to pull his hand out of mine again, but that didn't work either. "You can't know, no one knows except him and the other guys. He'll ruin us if we ever tell, especially now with all that crap going on."
"He won't ruin you. He can't ruin you. No matter what he's told you or what happens, you have family that loves you and cares for you. If you're worried about your stepfather's reaction, or your mother's, or Nanny's, don't. I know my father and if they have problems because of this, there will always be a place for you with us." I said gently and moved forward slightly, pulling his hand towards me until his body followed. Suddenly, he was sobbing into my shoulder, his entire body shaking as he did so. I let go of his hand and pulled him into a tight hug. His arms reached around mine in a hug and he kept on sobbing for a long time. I gently rocked him, making soothing noises as he cried.
"I…I…can't." Chris practically wailed after sobbing and I again worried about waking someone up. Sure enough, that noise did it and Josh padded into the doorway with sleepy eyes and looked at us.
"What's going on?" Josh asked quietly in his ten-year old voice and Chris stiffened in my arms. I had to think quickly about how to handle this. I looked at the clock and it was just after one in the morning.
"Chris had a nightmare." I told Josh softly. He just nodded and went back to the living room where the couch had been made up for him. (That was another peculiarity of my grandparents. Young kids like Josh, or an adult could nap or sleep on a sofa, but teens or near-teens like me had to sleep on the floor.) Chris relaxed slightly as Josh left and looked up into my face with an expression that I could only describe as despair. His dark eyes were almost all iris as he looked at me for both reassurance and to beg for what he was about to say.
"Please, don't tell them, don't tell anyone." Chris begged softly. "I'll do anything you want, just don't tell them. They'll never accept me. All my friends will call me faggot, their parents won't want me at school, especially now, and Mom will kick me out because Jim will demand she do it. Please."
"I'm not going to tell anyone." I said firmly and he sagged with relief until he heard my next words. "You're going to tell my father in the morning."
"No, I won't." Chris said firmly, but quietly. His eyes showed his determination.
"Then tomorrow morning I'm calling the local police department and reporting that your neighbor tried to molest me." I said with a shrug and his eyes widened even further in surprise. "I know enough to give them what they need for a search warrant. I'll tell them it happened before we moved to Nevada. I won't mention you at all, but when they find those pictures, those tapes, they'll find you in there. No matter what you do, he'll be uncovered and he'll go to jail. If you do it though, you'll get a lot more respect and help from those that care about you, cuz."
"I won't let you." Chris said and tried to break free of my hug. Two seconds later he was whimpering with a little pain as I pulled him against my chest and squeezed him very hard.
"Feel those arms around you Chris." I whispered fiercely. As I continued to speak, I loosened the grip I had until it was a normal hug again. "I can handle anything you throw at me. I work out with soldiers who have taught me how to fight. You won't be able to stop me physically or any other way. I don't want to fight you though, because that's not what you need. What you need, what you deserve, is love. What he's done to you is wrong, but it does not make you wrong or bad as a person. The only thing that would ever make you wrong as a person are the things that you yourself do with your own free will, not by coercion."
"You don't understand, he's got connections." Chris said and I chuckled softly.
"Chris, my Dad spoke with the President two days ago by phone." I responded quietly and felt his surprise. "Do you think that his connections could beat a phone call to the President?"
"N…no." Chris said and there was actually a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"That's correct." I assured Chris. "Neither will my Dad judge you because of what's been done to you."
"But I like it." Chris murmured softly.
"That's why I said sex can be a good thing." I said softly. "You can enjoy the feelings, the sensations, and all that, but what you've been going through isn't what sex was meant to be. Even if you like guys more than girls, what you've been going through isn't right. There's a difference between doing it willingly, without coercion and what you've been going through. He's forced you into it and even if you did it willingly later because of the drugs and alcohol he gives you, it is still wrong because of that time he forced you. He's manipulating you with things that make you feel good and takes your mind off the bad stuff in life, and that manipulation means it is wrong."
"What are you going to do?" Chris asked softly and with a strong hint of fear.
"Right now, we're going to sleep." I said around a yawn. "In the morning, you and I are going to talk to my Dad."
"He's going to hate me." Chris said softly. "He's a preacher and he works for the government on that AIDS thingie."
"No, he's not going to hate you." I said softly and with sureness. "He will understand, and he'll be proud of you for speaking up and putting a stop to something we all know is wrong. He'll probably give you a hug and congratulate you on doing the right thing, and then he'll make sure you get the help you need to recover from this."
"I don't need no help." Chris said petulantly and lowered his gaze after meeting my stern look for a few minutes. With a sigh, he finally nodded and we laid down again. I didn't let go of his hand though; I held it on the floor between us. For nearly an hour I listened to him cry softly until he fell asleep. Once I was sure he was asleep, I felt myself relax and go to sleep myself.
This night sure had ended differently than my first lifetime.
The next day began like most others when I slept in the family room at Nanny's, with her or Papa turning on the kitchen light to start their pot of coffee. My body was stiff from the long drive yesterday, and from sleeping on the floor. As I sat up and extricated my hand from Chris's, I let out a yawn and stretched my arms out. It was at that moment that I could hear someone walking towards the dining room and saw Papa peek around the corner to look at us. He grunted and nodded to me as a way of saying 'good morning'. I returned the nod as I mentally decided I probably had time to go for a short run. To my surprise, Josh had moved his blankets to the couch in the family room sometime during the night. I almost chuckled at that, thinking it was a smart move. When she didn't have to work, like today, Nanny always got up with Papa and they would sit in the living room behind the kitchen and dining room, drinking their coffee and reading the newspaper. After they'd read every page, Nanny would make breakfast. That wouldn't be for another hour, maybe two.
Moving as quietly as possible so as not to wake my sleeping cousins, I got up and folded up the blankets. Nanny would come down later and put them away, more than likely. If not, I'd take care of them after my run. Then I went to the patio window and looked outside. It was raining softly so I figured I'd put on my hooded sweatshirt that matched the gold sweat pants I had on. While there were more sounds from the kitchen (including the microwave which meant Mom was up and making her hot tea), I stretched out as quietly as possible. The stiffness from the drive and sleeping on the floor meant it took me nearly thirty minutes before I got to the point where I was ready to run, and I went into the living room where I found Nanny and Mom talking softly on the couch while Papa sat in one of the armchairs reading the paper. All three of them looked at me as I came into the room.
"Are you going running?" Mom asked me with a sigh and a slightly cross look.
"Yes, it's not raining too bad and I haven't had a good run for a week." I answered her carefully. She just nodded while Nanny sat her coffee down and frowned with a look out the back patio window.
"You can't go running out there." Nanny admonished me sternly. "It's raining and you'll get a cold."
"It's warmer than Nevada." I said with a shrug. "I won't melt in a little rain, but thanks for caring."
"Sandy, you shouldn't let him run in weather like this." Nanny chastised Mom, who just sighed.
"He's always running these days." Mom said sourly. "He's always got those military guys coming by and he runs with them even when it's snowing. I'm sure he'll be fine."
"I'm only going to run five miles today." I assured her. "That means I'll be back in about an hour and a half."
"Okay." Mom said with a shrug and I headed out the front door before Nanny could open her mouth again. More than likely, she'd be pushing Mom about this while I was gone, but as soon as I hit the sidewalk, I didn't worry about it anymore. The running helped me clear my head of the early-morning fog and let me get my thoughts in order. Exposing what had been happening to Chris for the last five years was going to put a damper on the family Christmas celebration, but it should not have to wait until afterwards.
Nanny would want to put her head in the sand and try to ignore the whole thing. Aunt Fran had once expressed to me in the first timeline that she wished she'd known about what was happening to her son sooner. One of the reasons she'd eventually divorced her current husband was his reaction when they did learn about Chris's abuse. He was nearly eighteen then, and Jim's reaction to the whole thing had forced her to choose Chris or him. She'd chosen her son.
Yes, everything that would happen because this came to light now instead of later would throw a damper on Christmas, but it would also help as well. I wasn't sure if it would 'ruin' everyone's Christmas, yet that wasn't as important as helping a family member in need. I knew that deep down and was certain that while I'd get a lot of cold shoulders for forcing it out into the open, in the long run it would be for the best.
"You're back." Mom said as I rang the doorbell an hour and a half later. She opened the door, still wearing her black house robe. The smell of bacon filled the house and I was suddenly very hungry. After giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek I entered the house and turned right into the kitchen. Nanny was just moving into the dining room with a pan of fresh, homemade buttermilk biscuits. The large table was full with my cousins who were already munching away on bacon, eggs, and biscuits. Chris gave me a worried look and I responded with a reassuring smile. Papa sat at the head of the table and motioned for me to sit down at the only open seat between Shantill and Jenny. Mom and Nanny both took their plates into the living room. Apparently Papa had decided he was going to do something nice for once and offered to take us kids to the store with him while he bought his supplies for his Christmas candy. Every year, he made a wide variety of chocolates and other candies that were better than anything store-bought. It was the only time he ever cooked in his life, and he was quite good. He even made a few pointed comments about my Dad still being in bed like a sluggard, which told me where Dad was. After wolfing down a few pieces of bacon, some scrambled eggs, and a biscuit, I excused myself from the table and went to the back bedroom. Dad responded with a loud grunt to my knock, and I opened the door to find him sitting on the edge of the bed getting his shoes on. He was already dressed in a pair of jeans and a western shirt filled with blue, brown and red hues.
"What's up, son?" Dad said with a slight smile on his face as I came into the room. There were actually two twin beds in the room, one right to the left of the door and the other against the far wall. He was on the bed near the fall wall, so I shut the door behind me and sat down on the bed closest to the door. He took one look at my face and his became very serious.
"Dad, there's a problem and I need your help." I said slowly and carefully.
"What is it son?" Dad answered with care and concern in his voice. "You know I'll help any way I can.'
"It's Chris, Dad." I said softly. "For the past five years a neighbor has been sexually molesting him."
Dad's face showed a mixture of rage, of pain, of hurt, surprise, and a few other emotions as he absorbed my news. As I continued to explain, and included a guilty confession of not remembering it until last night, and not having done anything about it in the last timeline, his emotions continued to play across his face until a sad resoluteness took place.
"Let's go get Chris." Dad said when I was done. I took a deep breath and followed him out of the room, hoping this was going to work out for the best.
As with all my stories, E provides immeasurable input, grammar checking, and all those other lovely editing thingies that make the story so much better!
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