Transformation: a short story: introduction

[scott snedeker]

Doctor Colrain was sitting by the flickering fire in the stone fireplace of his cottage while sipping hot mulled wine. At ninety-seven years of age he was the oldest practicing physician in Nova Scotia. For that matter, he was probably the oldest in the world. But as there was no other to render care in this old and remote village of one hundred twenty souls he would continue to his last days. Homo Sapiens were not the only species under his care. Many of the villagers' pets and livestock visited regularly for various ills. He often preferred his non-human patients as they complained a great deal less.

He shared the warmth with an old tom he named Lewis who wandered into his home fifteen years ago in search of a meal and a home. Doc, as he was called, had no idea how old Lewis was, and Lewis was mum to all but himself.

He and Lewis had just finished sharing a fine meal of roast lamb with mint sauce brought to him by widow Fennimore. Everyone in the village took turns seeing after the old man's supper as he no longer cared to prepare meals. Doc really felt the weight of his years. To date no one has lived forever, however, Doc's faith has been somewhat shaken as to the certainty of this as he had no malady to fufill this promise of his own belated conclusion. Each morning when he awoke he would utter a quiet disappointment, "Damn!" and then get on with the business of the day.

[iowan woman]

Scott,

I like your story. What happens next, or are you in the process of writing it?

Get crackin then, I want to know what's next.

[scott snedeker]

I awoke in a small room the walls made of stone with a throbbing pain in my head. The course material of the cot pressed against my cold arms and legs. The air was stale with sweat. A young man in a dark gray monk's habit slept on the floor next to me. I listened to his slow shallow breathing and light snores. I did not know where this place is or how I got here.

I moved to sit up . My cot creaked and disturbed the sleepy young man. He looked up at any with sleepy brown eyes and black curly hair and olive complexion. He asked a question, but I could not understand the words. Then I heard him say "Ingles o Espanol mejor?" I replied "Espanol." I could understand espanol with some difficulty but not english--seemed like I should know but somehow couldn't grasp meaning from English."What is your name?" He asked in spanish. I had to think but I did not know. "No se." I replied. I suddenly felt very lost. Who am I? I asked in spanish. He placed his hand on my shoulder and smiled. "It is not important my friend. you are in God's house sharing my humble cell. " The gentle warmth of his touch and his genuine affection and concern for my needs warmed my heart.

"You must be hungry my friend for you have not eaten for two days,"he said. Indeed I was hungry and my mouth parched. He helped me sit up. My head felt swollen and heavy. Then he helped me stand. The floor was cold on my bare feet. Except for a woolen blanket I was completely naked. He grabbed a robe hanging on the wall and placed its over my head. The room was cold and heavy with the smell of stale sweat. He placed my arm over his shoulder and helped me walk out of the room.

As we walked down the hallway I could hear male voices singing. We came to a large room with wooden benches and crude tables. As we entered he helped me kneel before an altar. He muttered something under his breath then took two stoneware bowls and wooded spoons to receive blessing of food to nourish the body. My first taste was delicious! A hearty vegetable stew. I started to thank him but he placed his hand over my mouth and shook his head. I was not to speak. Instead he broke a piece of bread and handed it to me. I made quick business of the meal and wanted more. However I realized that to ask for more would not be acceptable. After we finished eating we returned our bowls and again knelt before the altar, gave our thanks and left the room. I asked the young man his name. "Paco" he replied. as we've returned to his cell which began to darken with nightfall. The air chilled and started turning cold and damp. Paco lighted a candle in his cell and closed the door. he opened a bible and began to read. The light of the candle flame flickered making shadows of him dance on the walls. I listened to him read for what seemed to be two hours. The room became very cold with a damp mist falling through to cell window. Paco blew out the candle and guided me to the cot. He spread a blanket on the floor next to me and curled up.

[iowan woman]

I hope you will continue this story.

I like it so far.

[iowan woman]

Scott,

Are you still writing this story or did you stop posting because I am the only one who responded?

I am an experienced reader; my one opinion is that you are a good storyteller. Not everyone can tell a good story, it is a gift you should develope.

I have not been able to get on line much the last days because I am exhausted or I would have scolded you sooner.


myra

[Alecto]

::also sits waiting patiently for more::

[scott snedeker]

As I drifted to sleep I was suddenly awakened by the sound of his teeth chattering. I realized that he was sacrificing his cot to sleep on the floor which was clearly too cold. It reached over and grabbed him by the shoulder. "You will share the cot with me Paco, I could not bear to have you suffer." He protested but with my insistence he climbed into the cot with me.

I laid on my side facing the wall and he laid against my back. He placed his arm across my chest and stretched both blankets over both of us. What followed that night was one of love-making that I will never forget.
I awoke to the soft snoring of Paco, his head resting on my arm. He stirred and smiled looking at me with puppy-dog brown eyes. He caressed my face, trailing his fingers down the nape of my neck. We made beautiful passionate love again. before morning prayer.

He helped me to my feet. I couldn't get my right leg to move well or my right hand. With a look of alarm Paco supported me on my right side as we hobbled down hallway. He said something to an older monk who then looked into my eyes from one to the other, flexed and extended my flaccid right leg and arm, and then whispered something very rapidly and urgently to Paco. They both lead me down three flights of stone stone steps to a pool of water. Streaming into it from higher up the mountain and spilling out the other end to continue its journey down gravity's path. I could see for miles the wilderness of mountain ranges and valleys.

I wanted to say something but I couldn't form words. Then that fellow with the brown eyes. What was his name? And who was this older man? Where is this place? They helped me out of my robes and eased me into the frigid water. I gasped as the tingling brisk water shocked me to stark alertness. He held my head in the cold water with my face exposed to air. He started making puffing gestures and pointing to me. I gathered I was to hyperventilate and started doing so. He urged me faster and faster until I lost consciousness.

I awoke again. I was intensely cold but my head felt better and my leg felt stronger, more like my own again. Paco looked up at me and smiled. "I see you are better. Brother Phillipe said your brain had become swollen and we needed to cool your body temperature down while you breathed heavily to ease the swelling. Brother Phillipe is very wise and we must thank God for such gifts as these that he entitles us to enjoy."
I nodded in agreement and immediately regretted the head motion.

[scott snedeker]

Once the pounding in my head stopped, I asked: "Where am I, Paco? "

"You are with the stewards of the Love of Christ. We are chosen to keep safe the message of love unconditional. Shortly after Christ's death, members of his following agreed to be separated from the rest, hidden away safely as a preserved living archive. It was a heartbreaking farewell as some of the following were lovers of those left behind and none wanted to lose contact."

"This was done to address the possibility that the power of his name could be misused by political leaders of his time and thus blinding all from his true message. Sadly, this fear was realized when Emperor Constantine adopted christianity and others overlayed their agenda into the mission. Attraction to the potential power of his name was overwhelming. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and using his name, the history of war and atrocicities mounted with ever expanding malice througout the world. Many attempts to stem the human need for predatory gratification with his Message of Love were met with overwhelming obliteration. Some did inspire mercy and love, however.


But the Roman empire cultivated thousands of years of gain by aggression, and this legacy and usurption of power of control of thought through fear of God's name has created the second Empire of 'Christianity' to replace the Romans' Empire which was created by military force.. My forebrothers observed in horror the centuries of human predation. This made the secrecy of our existence an absolute to insure that Christ's messsage will not be lost forever.
It is only after we made love together that I was granted permission by Brother Phillipe to tell you this. "

[scott snedeker]

He found himself in hell again. How many times had he visited this place in his dreams? The barren war torn countryside looks the same. It could be Belgium, it could be France, it could be Germany. "I can't do this again!" Dr Kyle Colrain shouts as he wakes from the nightmare once again.

He looks around the room. There is his rocking chair, glowing coals in the stone fireplace and Lewis, as always, asleep in bed with him. He was still in Nova Scotia. " Oh thank God!" Lewis yawns with a display of three fangs and closes his eyes resuming the slumber that he practices to perfection.

He hears a knock at the door and a man's voice: "Dr Colrain! Dr. Colrain!"
"Damn this better be important!" snarls the old man. His feet find his slippers and he slowly stands with the assistance of his cane. " Keep your pants on! I'm comin'! Not gonna break a hip racin' to the door for ya!" Why don't ya Just come on in! There's no lock on the door anyhow!"

Doc finds a matchbook on the mantle of the fireplace. He strikes it and lights the oil lamp he keeps there. He notes with a frown that the chimney is black with soot. " Gotta get after that Fennimore boy to do his job if he wants to amount to anything!" He turns up the wick and walks to the table and sets a shade over the chimney as he places the lamp in the center.

For the first time he looks at the face of his visitor. There was something remotely unsettling, an elusive sense that he should know this person. He was not from around here. He was older about seventy....ish, Clean shaven, thick white hair, pale skin wearing an overcoat. The lamplight did not permit the color of his eyes to be revealed. "I feel like I should Know you. Have we met before?" the Doc said.

"It's me, Claus Schuleman. We dismantled the eugenics research project in Europe in the years following the Nuremberg trials."

Doc's heart stopped and ice filled his veins as a chill spread from his chest over his neck and back. Claus was a young man in his twenties then, and he himself was in his forties. Now he saw it in the eyes, yes the eyes! Then it all came back. All the fantastic frighteningly amoral research they came across for human engineering. The entangled connections of scientists with ruthless leaders. The trail leading to similarly minded American and British scientists, Watson among them, Untouchable with his Nobel Prize.

"What brings you here my old friend? Obviously I did not do a good enough job of disappearing. I'm officially dead you know, seventeen years ago. I have a copy of the certificate here somewhere to prove it." Doc felt his old persona taking over again. He felt young again, and..... disturbed.

"Let's say there was a young man who someone took in some fifteen years ago when he was at the end of his rope. He used the phrase 'brain mites' as a joking explanation for his forgetfulness. Now that rang a bell. I met up with him a year later and asked where he heard that expression."

"He replied that a kind crazy old man who gave him a home, helped him get off of drugs and accept himself as a normal and gay used to say it. He left before I could ask him more but I got his name from from the bartender. It took me three years to find you. No phone No Mail No Utilities. Do you even own this place?"

[Vanessa White]

Hey Scotty: I finally got around to reading your story. Thank you for sharing it. You have a true gift as a writer, in that you can paint a picture through your words that helped me to actually "see" it as I read it.

I can't wait to read more!!!

[ladyinred]

Scotty Read yours. Fine. I like your writing style.

[scott snedeker]

At fifteen Jeff was miserable. He was walking through the snow along a lonely highway for four hours. He was out of Meth for two days now. He took the rest of what he had stolen from Dollar Eddie.

Meth was the only thing that made the pain go away. It was the only thing that made him not feel unworthy and unlovable. It was the only thing the made the crying stop, the only thing that could make him think again, and there was no more he could get. He hated himself. He hated his lust for men. He was hated by God and by his family. He wanted to die but was afraid of dying.

A tanker truck passed him and and pulled over to stop. Jeff grabbed a handful of snow and rubbed his eyes with it to get rid of the redness, then ran up to the truck and pulled on the handle. A burst of deliciously warm air blew over him. The driver was an older man in his fifties with a long thick gray beard lying over a flannel shirt pot belly and strong Mainer accent. "Where are ya headed for youngstah?" He asked.

"How far are you headed?" asked Jeff asked.
"The end of the run is a Bar Bay, Nova Scotia about 800 miles." He answered.
"Great! I'm going to see my uncle there." He lied as he climbed in and thrust his hands into the heater vent. The hot air made his skin sting and he pulled them back.

"You look kinda young to be out here all alone. How old are you?"
"Nineteen," he lied again.

My name is Wessel Johnston, Named after my great grandfather. What's yours?"

"Jeff," he answered not wanting to talk right now . His head hurt, His legs ached, and he wanted to be left alone.

Soon Wessel began telling stories about his family settling in Maine, How a moose got into the parlor of his grandmother's house and other stories that Jeff had no interest in hearing. His exhaustion and hunger and warmth of the truck overwhelmed him and was soon sound asleep sitting up.

Then he was awakened with a jolt "We are here son!" Said Wessel.

It was dark and a light snow was falling. "Thanks for the lift Mr... Ah"
"Just call me Wessel, and you're welcome." Jeff opened the door and landed on rubbery legs on the gravel road behind the fueling station that Wessel was replenishing. There was a cluster of houses less than a quarter mile down the road. He knew he was safe here. Dollar Eddie could not track him down.

As he approached he saw small tired old wood houses in need of paint. They were all dark and some looked abandoned, But one, made of stone, had a light coming from inside. As he got closer he could see a shadow through the curtain. He could imagine someone inside. His being now fixed on the window as he ran toward it. Something inside him, a survival instinct, drew him toward this. He clung to this first desperate hope with a an exhausted clouded mind.

He finally stood in front of the door. He was paralysed with fear. Should I knock? Oh I can't! But I'll die! Maybe I can get into one of the abandoned houses. He looked at one and took a few steps toward it, then turned back, then looked toward the abandoned house again. He then turned back to the door summoned courage and lightly tapped on the door of the stone cottage and waited counting to sixty. He knocked a Little harder and counted again. Still no Answer. Then he knocked on the window.

Doc heard a tapping. Lewis must be playing, he thought. But the tom was asleep in front of the fireplace as usual. There it goes again! Mice! Lazy cat! "You are nappin' on the job mister!" Lewis raises his head, stretches all four paws and rolls over and resumes sleeping. "Is this how you justify your existence! Must be great to be fuzzy and cute and not have to work!"

Then he heard the rapping on the window. "What the hell!" He went over to the window and looked out into the snowy darkness but could see nothing. He opened the door. There stood a shivering, underdressed boy of about thirteen. He definitely wasn't from the village. In fact he could see that this lad was in serious trouble probably close to hypothermia. "Come in out of the cold, son. Sit down by the fire and I'll get you a blanket and something warm to drink."

[scott snedeker]

"Got anything to eat?" Jeff heard himself say. He didn't care anymore about pretending. He needed a lot right now and he was tired of running and hiding.

Doc heated some left over stew over the fireplace from supper with bread and a little milk before placing them on the table. Jeff went right to it, smacking and gulping until he gave himself hiccups. Jeff felt strange and alone and frightened, but no longer threatened.

Doc studied his new visitor. He was filthy and smelled pretty ripe. He was underfed which made him look younger than he probably was. His clothes were loose. This boy had run away, but from what? He noted the boy had a hand tremor. He was cold but still he was too young for that to be so coarse without something else at work.

"What's your name son?"
"Jeff"
"Well, Jeff I'm Kyle. People 'round here call me Dr. Colrain or just Doc but you can call me Kyle. Now as you can see, I'm an old fart so I've seen alot of people and alot of situations. And I think I'm close to the mark in guessing that you are in pretty desperate trouble at the end of your rope right now aren't you?"

The answer came in a flood of tears and sobbing that Jeff could not hold back, nor did he want to. Doc held him while he cried for a solid half hour.
Jeff could not look Doc in the eye. If he did, Doc will surely find out his secret.....that he was worthless trash and dirty.

Jeff hurt inside and out.

Doc pulled out some blankets and a pillow and set up the couch by the fire. "Get some sleep, son we can talk more in the morning." Jeff took off his sneakers and slid under the blankets. Lewis, never missing the opportunity to sponge love off visitors, jumped up on the couch and curled up next to Jeff. Jeff felt the first hint of relief from his lonliness and pain since he could remember. Lewis purred loudly as Jeff stroked his back. Soon sleep took over Jeff as he drifted into one dream after another in a macabre parade of faces and fearful circumstances.

Doc sat in his rocking chair, and puzzled futher as he watched the boy sleep. This kid was hurt, and bad. The answers were going to be slow in coming.

As the fire flickered his eyes felt dry and tired. At eighty-two he was not able to stay up late anymore. He tumbled off to bed wondering what revelations the morning will bring.

[scott snedeker]

Jeff awoke to the smell of bacon and Lewis' rough tongue licking his nose. He took a moment to examine his surroundings. The cottage looked so different in the daylight. It was one room with a fireplace in the middle, a cookstove next to a clawfoot tube with a sink on the other side, and a Bed behind him. One thing he became aware of was that he smelled really bad.

"Good mornin' sleepy! Are you rested? Toilet is next to the bed behind the door if you need it, and if you aren't aware yet, you are overdue for a bath!" Doc smiled and pinched his nose.

Jeff was really embarassed but the comical look on Doc's face made him laugh out loud anyway which infected Doc with a fit of giggles that forced him to put down the spatula and sit with tears streaming from his eyes as he laughed uncontrollably. Jeff laughed until his belly hurt and forced him to race into the toilet before he soiled his armor. It was a welcome relief of tension building up in the cottage.

Doc ran a bath with hot water generated by the gravity-fed well percolating through copper pipe coiled inside the stove. "Ok, peel and get in the tub!" Jeff self-consciously complied and then sighed as the hot water soothed his aching cold body. He scrubbed with a brush and soap and turned the water black. Meanwhile, Doc washed Jeff's clothes in the sink with dish soap and bleach then rinsed, washed again and set them in front of the fire to dry. Jeff got out of the tub and dried with a blanket in front of the fire. His soul felt cleansed. He stared at the burning logs as he wolfed down a plate of eggs and bacon that appeared from Doc.
He scraped and licked the plate. Then looked up at Doc an immediately looked away and feebly whispered, "Thank you Kyle". The tears started again, he made no effort to hold them back

"You're welcome. Hey, let's talk. You can just nod your head if I'm right or if I'm wrong Okay?"

Jeff nodded his head.

"You left home because your parents are mad at you."
Jeff shook his head.
"You are hooked on drugs"
A barely perceptible nod.
"You have stolen money to get it"
No movement.
"Someone is out to get you"
Another nod.
"You are afraid that I might throw you out."
Another nod.

"Well don't worry, I'm not that much of a mean old bastard"
Jeff sobbed and ran to Doc who embraced him and kissed his forehead. "Shh! You are safe now."

[scott snedeker]

Doc dug around his shed in the ice cold wintery day and found some old clothes that might not be too big for Jeff. He found some shirts and trousers a couple sweaters, hunting socks, boots and a coat. Everything was two or three times as old as the new wearer, he realized with a chill, as he carried the bundle back to the cottage.

Jeff picked through the pile and found a pretty decent, if a little large set of duds for his frame. In the bathroom mirror he was reminded of an old western photograph. The next few days that followed were difficult for Jeff. Everything Kyle asked him to do from chopping wood to shovelling snow was exhausting and just too hard. "I ain't good at anything," He thought and was worried that he was going to have to leave.

Kyle was coaching Jeff how to swing the axe one icy morning and the log just would not split no matter how hard he swung. Finally Jeff had had enough "God damn F--king Log!" He screamed and in a fit of rage threw the axe through the window into the cottage. Jeff gaped in horror at what he had done, ...and Lewis was inside! Doc was stunned. The axe missed the wiley old tom though. Lewis was up on the pantry shelf wide-eyed, but unhurt.
Doc stared at the axe. Then at the broken window with the frigid air pouring through. He saw Jeff, his face stricken with fear and horror. Doc then picked up the axe and whooped and smashed the window with it himself with glee.
"This a great day boy!" He handed the axe to Jeff, "Hit it again!" Jeff was confused but he was angry and smashed it over and over while Doc cheered. Then he collapsed, speechless. This old man has just gone insane!

"Why did you....? What the hell's going on?" asked Jeff
"You just broke out of the first layer of your trapped mind my boy!" He grinned back. "You just graduated from fear and being helplessly trapped to anger and rage. You are not a victim anymore! That's what!" Don't you feel better?"

Jeff, still confused blinked up at Kyle. He did feel better, less like a helpless, powerless child and more like a man. Kyle held out his hand to help him up. Jeff took it and felt the unexpected strength in the old man's tug. This old fella really was on his side! "I am more important to Kyle than even the window to his home!" In the throes of this priceless epiphany he grabbed Kyle in a savage bear hug and held on to this treasure! A true friend who put him ahead of everything.

"But what about the window?"
"Well I'm glad you chose the morning because the nearest replacement is one hundred miles away!" He smiled and laughed.
Jeff smiled too but his smile embarassed him and turned away. Kyle held the boy's chin turned his face around and looked into his eyes.
"You are a winner. Today is your victory. We will fix the window together and start building a home that is now part of you."

Jeff felt a hurt inside close up and fade away.

They boarded up the window and headed in a pickup to the next town. While driving in the snow Kyle was trying to keep his attention on the road.
Jeff couldn't help it. He just kept yelping in glee and laughter. What a day! What a life! He pounded Kyle on the shoulder! He pounded the dashboard! He danced in the seat! He was nearly exhausted by the time they arrived at Woodbury and the hardware store.

[scott snedeker]

Kyle was staring at a crooked, badly turned old screw in his windowsill over Claus's shoulder. It was one of the screws Jeff had put in that day fifteen years ago. A tear fell from Kyle's eye. He missed Jeff very badly these days. He actually longed for those trying times that followed that day. Jeff's road to recovery was very bumpy but he turned out a fine young man in the end.

"Ok Claus, so why are you here?"
"Our original job apparently was not as completed as we thought."
"You have got to be F--king kidding! That was over a half centry ago. I'm dead! Remember!"
"Someone has found part of the research, a part that we missed, and is using it"
"Who?"
"Ever heard of Pelosi?"
"That idiot? He has not one tenth the intelligence to even begin to understand it"
"No, but he is in control of another who does."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Claus, I'm ninety seven f--king years old! What the hell can I do? My warrantee is up! Let me explain it!

Coroner's report:

Cause of death:

'That's all you get! No more telerons!'

Understand!"

Then Claus pulls his trump card:

"Jeff is missing"

A long silence.........

"Oooooohhhh my God!" Kyle uttered with a sob. He looks up and shouts:

"You heartless bastard!!!!!!" Kyle then sobs, burying his head on the table and tips the oil lamp just as Claus catches it before it falls.

"The motor coach is waiting. I'll help you get in."

"I'm bringing Lewis. I can't leave him."

"No problem"

"Psssst hey old boy we're going on a trip!" He sobs again, grabs his cane, blows out the lamp and slowly exits the door.



Lewis stands up and stretches and follows Kyle out.

[scott snedeker]

Claire was frowning, puffing out her double chin as her young employee, Simone, skips into her bakery, late as usual, flushed and smiling with no sense of accountablity to the job. She notes another piercing throught lip to add to the ones in her nose, eyebrows and of course the dozen in each ear. These however are outdone by her flaming pink and glossy black hair.

Simone just twenty-five minutes ago was making love to her new partner she met in yoga class last week and simply lost track of time, not that she had a watch anyway. Her name was Claudette who while doing yoga together clearly had more interests than an exercise partner after working out.

Claudette moved to Paris from a small college town in Tennessee after finishing her degree in molecular biology. She found this Job on the internet. She brushed up on her High School French, became a redhead, and started her new life. A life that was out of the closet, out of Tennessee and out of a Nation with Bush in office.

Claudette too was running late for work. She used Simone's toothbrush with a little hesitancy and worse, could not find any deodorant anywhere. She settled for a little baby powder put on yesterday's clothes under her labcoat and hailed a taxi that screeched immediately to a dramatic halt.

She smiled at the cab driver which provoked the predictable proposal, shook her head and got in. "When will I learn not to smile at parisian men! Uugh!"

"Monsieur 347 Rue D'Patri' and step on it!" the last was english and was acknowleged with that maddening shrug that parisians have perfected to an art form.

It cost her nearly half a day's pay but when she clicked her badge in the door of the D'Patri' research building it was two minutes before she would have been late. She slowed her gait and took the elevator to Symtek genetics. She was working on the murine model for teleron replication extending the number of replicating divisions that cells can perform and extending life span. Mostly she was scraping dots off nutrient agar and testing for encorporation of telerons into tissue culture by retroviruses.

"Has anyone heard from David?" asked the head Researcher. "He hasn't shown up for work for two days now."

[scott snedeker]

Claudette thought back on three days ago. David was a good friend in part because he was gay and did not hit on her right off the bat. He was working late that night when she left work for yoga class. That was the last she saw of him.

He was originally from Nova Scotia in a small backwater village of Bar Bay. He came over first to the U.K. then to Amsterdam where he married his lover Jeff.

Jeff and David were high school sweet hearts. Jeff was a wild boy, always getting into trouble while David was the nineth of eleven brothers and sisters.

Claudette loved going out with Jeff and David hearing stories about the trouble Jeff always got David into...and amazingly, out of!

Now she was worried. She was so wrapped up in her first relationship with Simone, that she didn't think to even call her best buddies.

She went to the phone and dialed first David's cell then Jeff's. Both only rang once and went to message. The phones were off. Her stomach twisted.... something was wrong, she knew it!

Claudette worked until lunch then took the metro to Jeff and David's place.

The door was broken and the apartment vandalized. Little was left except torn papers and a picture of an old man with his cat. The street people had left little else. She took the picture and put it in her pocket and called the police.

[scott snedeker]

I welcome any comments, feedback, criticism or words of encouragement.

[scott snedeker]

David was sulking as usual in the classroom when a new boy sat down in the desk next to him, He was a skinny pale-skinned fellow with brown eyes and long brown hair. He looked over at David, Noted David's bib overalls and sweatshirt His blue eyes and curly blond hair. He smiled shyly and then looked away.

Mrs. Scriber announced. "Class this is Dr Colrain's Nephew, Jeff. Jeff can you tell us where you are from and something about you.

Jeff was dumbstruck then He stuttered "Um I'm visiting my Uncle and Um, Yeah, um we fixed his broken wndow last week and um my hands are really sore. "

"Hi Jeff! "Echoed from several different girls and boys some looked to be ten others looked his age and some older.

"Hi I'm David, David Fennimore" and David thrust his hand out. Jeff squeezed David's hand with a sweaty palm in embarassment. David's hand was big and hard from farm work. David smiled The class went on until a bell rang and everyone got up. "Follow me Jeff" He smiled. Jeff couldn't take his eyes off the boy, the way he filled out the seat of his overalls, His smile, his eyes, even the scent of the detergent on his clothes was magnetic.

"Did you bring a lunch Jeff? "
"Umm, no my umm uncle gave me some lunch money."
"Follow me to the Lunch Line" said David as he picked up a tray from the table and handed it to Jeff. The Woman behind the counter smiled. "You must be the new boy! What's your name, Honey?"
"Um, Jeff. Th- this is David."
She smiled and winked at David who smiled back

"It's Grilled cheese and tomato soup! and chocolate cake!"

David placed an apple and two cartons of milk on Jeff's tray and pointed to the gray-haired lady in a white apron at the register.

"seventy-five cents sweetie!" Jeff pulled out a dollar Kyle put in his pocket and palmed the quarter returned to him.

"Im sitting over here, Jeff" said David as he lead him to a bench at the end of the table. David felt alive and drawn to this boy like he had known him all his life. He didn't feel awkward like he usuall felt around other boys. He usually preferred to be alone but now wanted nothing more than to be near Jeff. It felt like he was tasting vanilla all over his body or, just plain happy to be alive. When he sat next to Jeff he like to feel the touch his leg to Jeff's.

Jeff was so grateful but worried that if David new his secret that he was a Queer, that it would be all over. Jeff couldn't fight his attraction to David though and David was so friendly that he suspected that he must have been told to be nice to me or something. But when he asked him questions about his Mom and Dad, Jeff looked away "Leave me alone!" and regretted it the instant he said it and ran out of the lunchroom and out of the building into the snowy school yard and cried for a while. The he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see David with a look of hurt on his face. Then David did something he didn't expect he put his arm around Jeff and held him. "I'm so sorry! I don't want you to go away, Jeff"

Jeff was scared but he didn't want to let go either. David pulled back He came to the realization at the same time that Jeff did. That that both were erect and....Queer. After a pregnant pause, David looked into Jeff's eyes and Hugged him again. For the first time he had a special secret buddy. "I need you!" he heard himself say with alarm but it was too late to take it back now.

Jeff looked into the eyes of this wonderful fellow. For the first time he didn't feel dirty and worthless, but special instead. He smiled and laughed out loud Causing David to look hurt again but He just grabbed the farmboy and swung him around until David started laughing too.

From that day for the next few weeks the two were inseparable. Jeff 'N David became one word at Buckley School They were always Rasslin' Always on the same team Always sat next to each other, always Sharing David's lunch which his mother noticed was enough for two growing boys, but then David was always a big eater as farmboys tend to be. She also noticed how her son finally got out of this sulky phase that he had been in for the last two years.



Kyle would sit and smile while listening to Jeff talk about he and David doing this and that. Then one night Kyle was awakned by soft sobbing coming from Jeff. It was then that Kyle finally felt the time was right.

He walked over to the couch. "Sit up so I can sit next to you, son."
Kyle put his arm around Jeff's shoulders. To Jeff it felt so good.
He summoned the courage to ask Jeff the questions that have been occupying nearly every waking moment of the past three weeks
"Where are your parents, Jeff ?"

Jeff looked up, the tears in his eyes hidden by the darkness.
"They don't love me." He sobbed and Kyle held him and then whispered.

"I'm going to let you in on a secret. I love you, Jeff and I always will no matter what. From now on I want to be your Uncle Kyle"

Jeff was frightened again but held on, frightened that if he knew the truth that it would be all over.