The Year of the Rat

by Nico Grey

Chapter 5

Mike went back to work, two nights every week. He wouldn't use the money I had saved to reduce his work load. He insisted that he would work to get us what we needed. My money had to be saved for my future.

I guess Mike and I had very different ideas about my future. I think he saw me living in a real home again, going to school, and having a normal life someday. I thought Mike was my future. To me, it only made sense to use my money for him.

I often found myself at loose ends when Mike was working. By then, I was used to staying up later at night. I wasn't ready to settle into our nest and fall asleep before he kissed my forehead and headed out into the night.

After Mike left, I'd crawl back out of my nest and find things to keep me occupied until Mike was due back home. I started spending a lot of time alone on the Navy Pier. Something about the crowds of people and the excitement there just called to me.

I often ran into Taryn or his friends. When he saw me, he made it a point to greet me and to find out how Mike and I were doing. It felt nice when he called me 'Rat'. I think he liked rats, too.

Slowly, over the course of a few weeks, it seemed like I had somehow become part of his life.

Taryn's crowd stuck together. I rarely saw them interact with other people. Most of them didn't appear interested in interacting with me.

The blond girl, her name was Jenna, was nice but aloof. She seemed to view the people along the Pier as a form of entertainment. We exchanged pleasantries a few times, but little more.

The black kid wasn't unfriendly. He just didn't care about anything or anyone outside his immediate group of friends.

The little guy with the sandy blond hair did seem more interested in me. But he usually shrank into the background after satisfying himself that I was okay.

I noticed a few other people with Taryn on occasion. There was an Asian kid who looked to be three or four years older than me. A guy with long dark hair who looked like he was about the same age. There was something about him that I found intimidating at sight. A pretty girl whose hair was buzzed on top, long and colorful on the side. Her makeup seemed kind of Goth.

Once or twice a couple of other guys joined them. I got the sense that they were together. One had dark hair and spent most of his time watching his companion. I had a hard time not watching that guy, too. He had short blond hair and everything said that he took great care about his appearance. His body looked very fit, too. If he had approached me in Grant Park, I might actually have wanted to take him out into the bushes!

For some reason, Taryn seemed wary around that blond guy. His body language told me that. But there was also a voice, or maybe just a feeling, in my head that warned: stay away!

I couldn't figure out why. But I'm a rat. I've learned to trust my instincts most of the time.

The Navy Pier, even after months of regular visits, still felt like a wonderland to me. The attractions ranged from shopping, to dining, to museums, tours, and amusements. But the biggest attraction was the people. The Pier was a mecca that drew all the youth and vitality of a large city into a single location and put all that excitement and energy on display for me.

At the end of each evening, I hurried back to our church. After a few minutes in the chancel, I'd find my way to the basement and into our nest.

The weather was starting to get cooler, especially at night. I began to worry more about Mike being out in the cold and wind. I attempted to make subtle inquiries with Mike about a winter coat. I probably wasn't too subtle. He informed me that the new coat I had already bought for him, and a hoodie, were enough to keep him warm.

When he started to discuss the possibility of working more frequently so we could afford some way to keep me warmer in our basement, I got the hint and decided to let the subject drop. But I didn't stop worrying about Mike. I spent more time praying upstairs in the chancel.

I didn't really know who else I could talk to. The manager at the drug store had been helpful. He had given me a card with his phone number. But I didn't know how he could help. If he saw how Mike and I lived, he'd probably feel like he had to call the police or somebody in authority.

The only other person I knew was Taryn. I hated the idea of bothering him. But I also looked forward to the comfort of having someone help me decide what to do.

When Mike went out the next time, I headed straight to the Navy Pier. I was still in Gateway Park when I noticed Taryn walking ahead of me. He wasn't with anyone from his usual crew, but he wasn't alone.

The boy with him — and it was obvious, even from behind, that he was no older than Taryn — was slightly built and he had sandy blond hair that looked kind of long. His clothing looked a lot like the clothes that Taryn and his friends usually wore, so I figured he must be part of their crew. Maybe a new guy.

I wasn't sure whether I should approach Taryn. There was something intimate about the way that he and his friend were walking together that told me I shouldn't intrude.

But while I was observing them, I felt something familiar in my head. Taryn turned to face me, a welcoming expression on his face. His friend started to turn, too.

I didn't recognize the guy. But there was still something about him that felt awfully familiar. My heart started racing and I broke out in a cold sweat.

Even at a distance, I could see that this kid was beautiful. Something about his posture was almost angry; it was defiant. Even with his clothes on, I could see his erect penis, enraged and pointing to the sky. Even through his sunglasses, his eyes were glowing red.

I never noticed the uncertain expression on Taryn's face. I didn't even see his friend turn away. I lost control of my voluntary functions. I kept staring fixedly at the boy until I became dimly aware that I had wet myself.

As I started to regain control of my senses, I did notice that Taryn and his friend were gone. All that remained was an echo in my head: "Everything is okay, Rat. You're safe."

I'm pretty sure that people were looking at me uncertainly as I forced my way back through the crowd and out of Gateway Park. I did the only thing I could do. I ran. I didn't stop running until I was safely back in the abandoned church. Then I screamed.

I was still wide awake when Mike returned that night. I couldn't even pretend to be sleeping. I needed the comfort of our nest and his arms around me. It still took me more than an hour before I finally fell asleep.

I couldn't go out for more than two weeks after that night. Even when Mike was home, I didn't want to leave the church. When Mike had to work, I huddled in the chancel, under the protection of the outline of where that great crucifix had once hung. I didn't know if I would be safe there, but I couldn't think of any place safer until Mike was home again.

It was another week before I dared to venture out of the church alone. I'm not sure what changed. Maybe it was the soothing reminder of those words in my head: "Everything is okay... You're safe." Eventually I was willing to go outside with Mike during the day, then at night. And in time, the terror had faded far enough into my memory that I was able to approach the Navy Pier, alone and at night, without voiding my bladder again.

I didn't see Taryn or his friends the first few times I returned to the Pier. I was fine with that. I did want to talk to Taryn. Really, I needed to talk to him. But I was deeply conflicted every time I thought about our last encounter. A few safe and normal visits to the Pier would make it easier for me when the time came to see Taryn and risk meeting his friends again.

I noticed the bag of Jolly Ranchers first. It was such an innocuous encounter that I was barely aware that anything unusual was happening. As I stood at the rail, looking out over the lake, I felt a timid presence and caught a faint scent of apple. When I looked down, I saw that bag of Jolly Ranchers being extended toward me.

"Green apple are my favorite," a timid voice informed me. Then I became aware of the long, sandy blond hair, a smattering of freckles, and some bright hazel eyes hiding behind thick lashes. It took me a moment to realize that the customary sunglasses weren't perched on his nose.

I appreciated their absence. Despite the downcast eyes, our connection felt more real without the sunglasses in the way. He smiled at me tentatively and nudged my hand with the bag of candy. I accepted a few.

"My name's Dylan," he told me. Then he glanced away shyly.

If it was Taryn that had appeared suddenly at my elbow, I might have been nervous. But this skittish little apparition was just the right way for me to reconnect with Taryn and his friends.

"Thanks, Dylan," I told him.

Those bright hazel eyes met mine directly this time. He smiled hesitantly. Then he reached into his bag of candy and filled my pocket. He slipped his sunglasses back over his eyes as he turned away.

"Everything is okay. You're going to be safe." It was his faint voice that I heard this time. "We like you." And after a minute pause, "I like you, Rad."

It was a simple declaration, but it affected me profoundly. I was almost entirely alone in this vast city; Mike and I, supported occasionally by Taryn and a store manager whose name I wouldn't even know if it hadn't been printed on his card. But suddenly, I had a friend. Aside from Mike, who took care of me, I had never had a friend.

I wanted to call after him. I wanted to invite him back just to sit with me. But really, the encounter had been just the right length for what I needed. Some human contact. Reassurance. And a friend.

I saved most of those Jolly Ranchers for when Mike came home that night. I was developing a real fondness for them, but I needed to share them with him.

He was in good spirits when he burrowed into our nest. Apparently he had a good night. No obnoxious employers to deal with and a decent paycheck. I wished that all his nights were like that.

But in that line of work there were always ups and downs. It really opened my eyes the first time Mike came home after getting beat up by an employer.

Summer had progressed into autumn. I guess there were fewer men looking for workers to do sex things — at least in the open air of Grant Park. Workers took more chances about who they would work for and what they were willing to do for money.

I did my best to help Mike clean up his face. I really wished then that I had purchased a small propane stove for us so we had something to heat water. But Mike tolerated my ministrations and the cold water in the basin.

It was weird, but as I dabbed at Mike's cuts and bruises, and stroked his hair with my free hand, I started to get a picture in my mind. A large man. Maybe in his forties, with dark hair and moustache, and deep-set, menacing eyes. Something about the way he looked and dressed, and his angry gestures and facial expressions, made me think of a preacher giving a sermon. I don't know why, but I was sure that this was the man that had beat up Mike.

Mike never told me what happened; only that he had made a mistake. I was grateful when he reluctantly agreed that we could use some of my money to buy food and supplies until he was completely recovered. I knew, as he conceded to my request, that he would likely work more hours once he was healthy, and pay me back. But at least he was safe for a while.

Mike and I spent several nights on Navy Pier while he was recovering. His cuts and bruises didn't attract a lot of attention. I guess young guys were expected to get into fights occasionally.

We saw Taryn and his friends a few times. Dylan secretly shared his shy smile with me. I felt a frisson of pleasure at the gesture and smiled back. With Mike there, I decided to wait for another occasion to speak with Taryn.

Sometimes Mike and I spent the day in Gateway Park or down by the water. He started to bring his book along with him and I finally found out what he was always doing in it. He wasn't writing.

Mike was an amazing artist! In just a few minutes he could sketch an accurate scene of anything that caught his eye. Another half hour or so could turn that scene into something almost lifelike.

He liked to capture images of places and things that had meaning for him. I guess his decision to start sketching images from around downtown Chicago meant that he was starting to feel a connection with the city. It had become his home.

Of course, I wanted to see more. I wanted to see those images from his past that had meaning for him. But maybe they meant too much to him. There were some things that he preferred to keep to himself.

Autumn had arrived in Chicago, with the threat of winter already looming. But that couple of weeks was the most normal time I had spent since I started living on the streets. Mike and I were happy. We were enjoying what the city had to offer. We were enjoying what life had to offer.

Eventually he had to go back to work.

Mike and I still made the most of the city when he wasn't working. Life there was always interesting.

We prepared for winter. Mike agreed to let me use some of my savings to purchase pillows and more blankets for our nest. We bought a small camp stove and bottles of propane to heat water, but also the small room in that church basement where we had our nest. We knew that winter would be hard. We were determined to provide a few basic comforts to help make it more tolerable.

When Mike worked, I spent my nights down on the Pier. I could feel a sense of urgency there as the people made the most of those amusements before winter shut them down.

I still enjoyed the people watching. It was my only source of entertainment. I just never expected to be one of the amusements.

I didn't hear those voices in my head very often. It seemed to happen most when Taryn and his friends were around. So it was a shock to me when I was strolling along the Pier alone one evening.

"Oh, that is one hot little piece of ass!" It felt like the voice was directly inside my head! It was loud.

I didn't know why, but I was certain that the comment had been directed at me. It felt that focused. I jerked around in surprise.

I couldn't determine the direction immediately, but I felt a strong sense of surprise in return, and a coward's decision to avoid confrontation. By the time I figured out where the feelings were coming from, all I could see were the backs of two younger teens, one brunet and one blond, disappearing around the corner of a building.

In some circumstances, the incident may have come across as a compliment. But I had met many types of people at work. This was too aggressive. It felt predatory. That experience left me feeling very uncomfortable.

It also left me more self-aware about the way I saw and thought about other people. I didn't want to be intruding on other people's feelings of security, even if I was just doing it in my head. I resolved to put that awareness into practice while I was people watching.

I often saw Taryn and his friends at the Pier. We never hung out together, but he and Dylan always greeted me and exchanged a few words. I couldn't explain it, but I felt a sense of growing anxiety within their community. It didn't appear to have anything to do with the approach of winter. There was another kind of tension there.

I was on the Pier and hanging around The Lighthouse one night when I bumped into Taryn. Or to be more precise, he bumped into me. Literally.

He started to apologize before he recognized me. When he did, he smiled. But in a distracted sort of way.

It took me a moment to notice that he wasn't alone. There was a blond kid with him. He was just about my size.

I had never seen him before, but he immediately drew my attention. He was self-assured and possessed an essence that I could only describe as cool. He had an eyebrow piercing, faded streaks in a rainbow of colors through his medium length blond hair, and a smile that was immediately hypnotic. I had a hard time looking away from him.

We didn't really have time for introductions. Taryn was definitely anxious about something. But while Taryn was glancing about nervously, the kid was sizing me up.

"I can't see him," Taryn said. "But I know Trevor's back there somewhere."

The kid shuffled Taryn and I toward a quiet alcove between The Lighthouse and an auxiliary structure. He turned to face Taryn and pulled me to stand right next to him. I didn't even consider resisting.

"What do you think?" The pitch of his voice was a child's, like mine. But there was something much more worldly in his tone and the way he expressed himself.

It took Taryn a moment to understand the question. I could see the uncertainty in his expression. But he was distracted.

"Could you help us out, Rat?" Taryn asked.

I must have nodded.

"We just need you to distract someone for a few minutes so Gyro can get away from him."

It should have crossed my mind to wonder if I was in any danger if these two needed a distraction. But I trusted Taryn.

Taryn and the kid exchanged looks. Ideas were exchanged, but I had no clue what they were about.

The kid took off the bright yellow jacket he was wearing and handed it to me. After a few seconds I got the idea. I took off my hoodie and handed it to the kid. Then he took off the blue knit cap he was wearing and stuck it on my head.

He gave me an appraising look. Then he tucked some of my hair up into the cap, I guess maybe to hide the fact that my hair didn't have any colors streaked through it.

Taryn and the kid looked me over again. I guess they liked what they saw. Taryn smiled at me appreciatively.

With a small shove, he encouraged me out of the alcove in one direction while he and the kid scurried off in another. I couldn't remember hearing the instruction, but I knew I was supposed to keep moving at a fairly brisk pace. I wanted to create separation between me and Taryn.

I started walking toward the end of the pier. I knew that I needed to cover some distance.

I heard the voice before I felt the hand on my shoulder.

"Where ya goin', Gyro?" I didn't have to see the smirk on his face to know it was there. "I think you and I have some unfinished business." I was shocked when another hand groped me roughly.

My first thought was to scream. As he turned me around, my assailant must have seen that expression in my eyes. He let go of me immediately.

Surprise gave way to cool assessment on my assailant's face as he inspected me. "You look just like a friend of mine," he continued to observe me closely.

"Do you always greet your friends that way?" I don't know where the words came from. I rubbed my crotch for emphasis... and like I may have been feeling the urge to wash where he had touched me.

He didn't seem embarrassed. Maybe he sensed that now I wasn't going to scream.

"When they look like you, I do."

There was a sort of sincerity to his voice that caught my attention. I took a closer look at him.

To be honest, I rather liked what I saw. He was a few years older than me; maybe fourteen or fifteen. His hair was short, blond, and carefully styled. It almost looked like silk. He seemed about average height. Trim, like an athlete. I couldn't see his eyes. Sunglasses. Oh, yeah! Another one of Taryn's friends. Trevor, I think he had called him.

That should have reminded me that Taryn had once suggested that I stay away from Trevor. But there was something about him, an appeal — almost sexual, I thought — that was drawing me in.

He looked like he was going to ask a question, before he changed his mind. He tried another.

"Don't you just love it down here at night?" his gesture took in all of the Pier. "I can't get enough of it."

And that struck a chord with me. It was the most exciting place in Chicago.

"I especially love the view from the top of the Centennial Wheel. In fact," I could almost feel a gentle caress inside my head, "I was thinking about taking a ride before they close for the night."

It was a depressing reminder that I couldn't afford that luxury. But before I could even articulate the thought...

"I'll pay for both of us."

For a brief moment, I forgot about everything else.

Riding the ferris wheel, pressed tightly against the body of a stranger, was an odd but exciting experience. The feeling as we wheeled up into the open sky was exhilarating. When our car reached the top of its circle, the views of Chicago and Lake Michigan were amazing. The gradual descent gave us time to recover from the thrill before the wheel thrust us back up into the sky again.

As the ride continued, my companion wrapped his arm around my shoulder. He pulled me gently into his chest. I responded to the feeling of security.

Rising back up into the sky again, he placed his free hand on my knee and began to run it slowly up my leg. It was almost like riding the ferris wheel. The feeling of excitement built inside me. I wondered what the view from the top would look like this time.

As our car crested the top of the wheel, he gave my thigh a gentle squeeze and smiled into my eyes. I felt all resistance leave my body. He leaned toward me and placed a chaste kiss on my lips. The moment felt perfect.

The wheel descended again. My companion continued to massage my thigh tenderly. The arm around my shoulder pulled me just a little more securely into him. When the ride slowed to a stop, I felt like I had been to the roof of the world and had arrived safely back on earth.

I think that I experienced more true sexual excitement on that one short, chaste ride than I had during all my nighttime adventures in Grant Park.

"Do you have to be anywhere soon?" He leaned in and whispered in my ear.

I shook my head dumbly.

"I'm Trevor," he smiled perfectly. "Will you let me show you just how wonderful a night on the Pier can really be?"

There was no need to say anything. I reached for his hand.

The night was intoxicating. I really couldn't keep track of everything that we did together. Food. Amusement rides. Even a short cruise out on the lake in a small tour boat. I just know that every wonderful moment felt like an improvement on the previous moments.

I had spent eleven years as a neglected and bullied child in a poor suburban Chicago family, until I was eventually thrust into the streets and left to fend for myself. Now I was caught up in a dizzying whirl, being shown all the excitement that Chicago had to offer on the arm of a beautiful stranger. It felt like a night of fantasies being fulfilled.

Somehow or other, we found ourselves alone on the top of a steel bridge somewhere in the northern suburbs of the city. I know it was in the north because I could see the lake to my left as the lights of the city stretched out in front of me. Once again, I felt like I was at the roof of the world.

My companion... Trevor... was smiling indulgently as he watched me take in the view with wonder. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder again and pulled me closer, helping to shield me from the night breeze. I waited eagerly for another one of his tender, romantic touches.

I must have been giving off some kind of signal. Instead of a chaste, tender touch, he reached out with his free hand and carefully cupped my crotch. I guess I sent another signal then. His hand slid up to my waist, then slipped down into my pants until his fingers found my signaling device and wrapped around it.

That startled me for a moment. I sensed the ghost of a warning in the back of my mind. But everything that had been happening all evening felt so good. I let him have his grope. It seemed a small price to pay. And it wasn't like I hadn't already sold my body many times over for far less.

As he continued to grope and fondle, the evening felt even better. Trevor removed his hand from my shoulder and began to work the button — then the zipper — on my pants.

"You and I could have a wonderful future together, beautiful boy," he whispered seductively.

The increasing sexual energy was mesmerizing. I nodded dumbly. He continued to work open my pants until I was fully exposed to the night.

He took a moment to appraise his prize. He prodded it carefully.

"Can you come yet?" he wondered.

After my time in the union, I now understood the meaning of the word when used this way. I shook my head. He seemed disappointed.

But he wasn't deterred. He laid me back along the steel girder we were standing on. He pulled my jacket and shirt up over my head and tossed them aside. Then he peeled my pants down my legs.

Laying there, the vast Chicago night sky surrounding me, I felt like a human sacrifice. The high priest's mouth opened above my waist, then plunged downward as he claimed his victim.

The act wasn't new to me. I was already an experienced worker. But the sensations were like nothing I had encountered before. I was lying completely exposed atop that bridge, beneath the open sky, as his lips and tongue worked feverishly up and down.

The sensations began to build gradually inside me. Crackling energy slowly migrated inward from my fingers and toes, then arms and legs, then from my head, until it had all gathered together in my core, eager for release.

Trevor must have sensed the change. His tongue abandoned my shaft and began to explore my balls, drawing them into his mouth, one at a time, then rolling them around before releasing them with a gentle popping sound.

The sensations were so overwhelming, I couldn't speak. I could barely breathe. In my core, the tension was continuing to mount.

With a final lingual flourish from the base of my shaft to its head, he pulled away. He used his hands to perform the final magic. A powerful burst of energy was released.

In all my previous experience, I had never felt anything quite so intense. I was twitching from head to toe, the frequency amplified as it got closer to my core, which was vibrating like a tuning fork. And then it flew out of me.

As the energy began to flow, a fog cleared from my brain. I saw my companion crouched over my waist. I felt the sexual energy release from my body. And all I could think was: 'This should have been Mike!'

As the regret followed close on the heels of the sexual release, I lost track of coherent thought.

When I returned to awareness, I noticed my companion still crouched at my waist. He was bent over me. Like an animal, his tongue was carefully probing a small pool of liquid on my stomach. The gesture was feral.

There was a look of wonder on his face when he sensed my head move and he glanced at me.

"Was this really your first time?" he demanded.

It took me several seconds to comprehend the question. The heightened physical sensations. The pool of fluid on my stomach. The unusually drained feeling throughout my body.

It was! I had reached a once-in-a-lifetime milestone!

I could see his eyes glowing through his sunglasses.

"Oh, my lord! You'll be a freshly broken virgin forever. This has to happen now!"

He fell atop me. His head extended toward mine. His mouth straining for my neck, as it started to open. In my peripheral vision, I saw a flash of teeth.

Then I felt pain like I had never experienced before! There was an inhuman sound in my right ear, teeth working as they penetrated skin, muscle, sinew, blood vessels — my flesh! I was held immobile in his powerful grasp. I could feel my body beginning to grow cold, numbness radiating outward from my neck. My companion was making loud, slurping noises.

He reached down to his waist with one hand. I felt a fumbling sensation against my thighs, skin suddenly slapping sharply against my skin as a new horror was released, then two hands sliding under my thighs. My legs were being pushed up toward my shoulders. I felt something probing at my bottom. And then it entered me. His lips continued to work eagerly at my neck.

My body was too weak to move at all. Thoughts flashed through my mind like an ancient movie reel. A few scattered images of my mother feeding me as an infant. My first time walking. A comforting hug or two from older brothers — I had completely forgotten about those. An occasional scene with a somewhat proud father.

Then the ancient projector turned into a deranged kaleidoscope. Fragments of upsetting scenes flashing before me. Lost during my first day of school. Other children pointing and laughing. Parents frustrated by my childish needs. Insults and punches from older brothers, then from schoolmates. A large, frightening city opening a ravenous mouth to welcome me as I fled from my home.

The nightmare grew more disturbing. I was aware of sporadic images from my here and now. A huge, cold sky open above me. A frigid metal girder beneath me. My companion thrusting in and out of me franticly as he continued to feed. And disturbingly, I could feel that excitement building again in my core.

The world went completely black and I lost consciousness.

I had a final coherent thought: 'Mike! Mike! I love you, Mike!'

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