Nevermore!
by and © Henry Higgins
Chapter 2 - Going Straight
I was so spooked! This sick kid I had picked up in the park had just said he knew that I live nearby. What the hell could that mean? I'd have to wait to find out because he had dozed off shortly after I had buckled him into my car.
I had tried to stay so private in my new neighborhood. Since moving into my bungalow, I had scrupulously kept a low profile - no odd comings and goings, no strange visitors, no loud music or other disruption. Just Mr. Joe Regular. Well, except for cruising the park restroom. But then, if a guy went for a walk in the park, sometimes he'd hafta take a leak, right?
As I turned into the driveway, I felt surer than ever - this time I could do it right. And at the same time, I was panicked that I would ruin my life and one more. I pressed the signal box to lift the garage door, pulled in, and the door closed automatically behind me. The kid was still asleep; so I took my time moving around to his side of the car, opening the door, undoing his seat belt, and then positioning the house key in my right hand just right so that I could still open the door with him in my arms. He seemed so light as I bent down to lift him out of the seat.
Even in his sleep he shivered and trembled. His face had felt so hot when I touched it back in the park! I looked down to guide the key into the lock and noticed that he was awake and looking at me.
"We'll be inside in just a minute," I said and then I saw him grin at me. "What? What does that goofy look mean?" I couldn't help but grin back.
"I can't believe it! I've dreamed of this happening for so long."
"What? Me carrying you inside my house?" I asked.
"No, silly. You caring for me," he said, still grinning.
"Oh. And what makes you think I care for you?"
"I could tell - even back in the beehive. The way you looked at me... the way you touched me."
"So, what makes you think I wasn't just lusting after your bod?" I asked.
"You didn't gobble my dick, even when you had a chance." Oh my! He was an observant little cuss! "Yeah. Well, I've been struggling with that. It's not that I didn't want to."
"Yeah, I could tell. But you didn't, and that makes you different from just about every other asshole I've met in there."
"Oh. Thanks. I think!"
He still grinned. "You know what I mean. You're different, all right. I figured that."
"So, you've been watching me!" I exclaimed.
"Not exactly." The boy sighed heavily, speaking through chattering teeth. "It's just that I live near the park and I've seen you go in and out of the beehive. I thought maybe you'd be like me. I hope you're not mad; I really hoped you'd like me. 'Course I always seem to fuck things up, like heaving my guts out back there. I'm really sorry about that."
"You can't help getting sick. Hell, that could happen to anybody. It's just that I was surprised to hear that you'd seen me before. I go there a lot, but I don't remember seeing you."
"I'm usually pretty much outa sight back up the hill when you're there. I work the place earlier than you do, like after school and just before dinner. I noticed you 'cuz you look like a nice guy." The boy was holding himself, shivering, and I remembered the need to get him into bed and warmed up.
"Thanks for the compliment. That means a lot - it really does. But I'd better get you someplace where it's warm. I have a guest room you can use."
"Okay. I jus' gotta get some sleep now and I can't seem t' get any at home."
"Geez, I don't even know your name," I said.
"Kenny - like in South Park."
As I started to say that my name is Jim, I saw that his eyes were already headed north again. He slumped to the floor as his lids banged shut. Oh well, there would be time for that later. Meanwhile, I had to get this kid into bed. He was no trouble at all to lift and carry back to my guest room.
I flopped him on the bed and began to remove his clothing. Pulling his boots off revealed grungy gray socks that might have been white at one time. The funky aroma of teenage boy feet filled the room. Gingerly, I removed each sock and tossed it over by the door to wash later. Next, I attacked the cargo pants, noticing that those would also need a sanitizing treatment as I undid the belt and snap, then pulled them down by the legs. Oh - a wallet. I unloaded the rest of his pockets into the nightstand drawer before adding the pants to the little pile by the door. Finally, I added his frayed sweatshirt.
He was naked. I lifted him up a little to flop the covers back, lay him on the pillow, and cover him back up. As I did, I couldn't help noticing the cock that on his slight frame looked positively huge. Ah, the vagaries of puberty. Totally soft, the kid still must have hung four or five inches there - with a cute little remnant of foreskin flapping over the ridge of his glans. I wondered if he added much to his length when he got boned. He was hot from his fever and his sac sagged against the skin of his crotch. Nice package!
It looked like Kenny-Like-In-South-Park would be out for a while. I took a pretty tulip quilt from the closet and spread it over him. Then, I put the back of my hand to his forehead - still hot. On my way out of the room, I thought back to the wallet that I had put into the nightstand drawer along with other pocket stuff. Intensely curious, I struggled with whether to go through it. No. Hard though it was, I had learned that respecting other people's boundaries was one way I could keep from getting back into my shit. Sighing, I scooped up the pile of clothes to take to the washer as I planned to call the friend who had helped me more than any other.
Having set the load size to small, I dumped in some detergent, added a little disinfectant, and then started the Maytag. On my way back from the laundry room, I settled into a chair at the kitchen table and then picked up the phone to dial my friend Roger Hansen.
Rog and I had known each other since Junior High School. I would get a hard-on whenever I saw him in the showers back then - and other times as well. After high school, we went our separate ways and didn't meet again until years later when I saw him in one of our town's gay bars. We resumed our friendship, although at the time, he had a special someone and so did I. Still, it had been nice to learn that he had boned over me in Junior High School as much as I had boned over him. As kids, we were just too afraid to let the other one know about it.
He had become a doctor, so I was happy to have him be my doctor. Rog hung with me through all the trauma of my arrest and imprisonment and then my readjustment into the big, bad world. I don't know if I'd have my sanity - or my life - if it hadn't been for him.
"Hullo?" Rog answered.
"Hi, Rog; this is Jim. I need to ask a favor."
"Oh, no, Jim. You didn't go off the deep end, did you?"
"Well, not quite. But I did go to the park today."
"Geez! In this weather? Are you crazy?"
"Probably - let's just call it a big need. Anyway, there was just me and this other guy and he turned out to be sick - real sick - so I brought him home with me," I said.
"Uh oh. I smell a house call coming. You know that's gonna cost you, buddy!"
I could almost see my friend grinning on the other end of the phone.
"Oh, I'm happy to pay extra; what's it up to, now - three beers?"
"That'll do for starters, pal. It's a holiday, you know!"
"There's just one thing, Rog..."
"Uh-oh!" exclaimed my friend.
"He's a kid."
"What? Damn it, Jim, you have gone off the deep end! How many times have we talked about what can happen? Man, I just don't want to see you go down again!"
"Wait, Rog. Take it easy. We didn't do anything. Not that I didn't want to. But he was too sick. I couldn't just leave him there, no matter how old he is!"
"Yeah? Well, okay. But Jim, with your record and all, if anybody gets wind that you've taken a kid into your home, you know where that could go!"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But Rog... I couldn't just leave him. It was dark when we got to my place and I drove into the garage. I don't think anybody saw me."
"Okay, okay. I'll be over as soon as I can. How did he get sick?"
"He puked out every last thing in his stomach; he only had a thin sweatshirt on; he lost consciousness and then was mumbling some nonsense when he came to; I had to almost carry him to my car; and he couldn't stop shaking. Oh - and he lives in the neighborhood but wouldn't let me take him home. He wanted to come home with me. Said he'd seen me before in the park... that I looked nice and he hoped I'd like him and care for him. Oh, yeah; you know what else?"
"What, Jim..."
"He's gorgeous!" I whined.
Rog started in on me again. "Now don't you go perving on him, man. You've got too much at stake."
"I know, I know. But Rog, if I can't say it to you, then who?"
"Okay, I hear ya, buddy. I'm more than willing to be your safety valve. Just make sure the big head stays in charge, okay?"
"Yeah, you got that right. And Rog?"
"What?"
"Thanks, man. I love you."
"Yeah, Jim - I love you too. See ya in a short."
I hung up the phone and sagged back into the chair. What the hell was I getting myself into? Dark visions of jail for life and the horrified face of my last lover and victim danced around the edges of my consciousness. I felt dizzy and giddy... and thrilled. It had been so long since I last felt that thrill course through me and leave me so breathless and energized.
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