Body and Soul - 1. Chapter 1

I finally left him. Who would have thought I would have the courage to do it? I sure as hell didn’t, but I did it, even if it meant I had to leave in a goddamn ambulance. I mean, when you have a roof over your head and are mainly left alone, you can handle a lot.

“Please, just lie still, sir. I know you are in pain, but we have to get this IV in, and then we can adjust the breathing tube. Nancy, please let Dr. Avold know he is awake.”

I hear them run around me like ants trying to patch me up. They seem to think the scars they see are the worst. They should only know the truth.

“I want the dose high to begin with. He has massive injuries, and I don’t want him to wake up. We are going to have to induce a coma to give his body time to heal.”

Heal? They make it sound so easy. Like time is going to make all of my life knit up and produce a normal human being. I would laugh if it wasn’t so sad. Every inch of my body could be scarred and bleeding, and it wouldn’t even touch the damage done to me.

“I think his eyes moved. Can you hear me? If you can, would you squeeze my hand?”

I remember my hand was so small, but then again, I was small. I was barely five at the time. I think that was the first time I realized I wasn’t like everyone I knew. I was just a broken shell that everyone would be able to beat on. The first person to teach me that was my father.

“I told you to eat what is on your plate, Ronald.”

“I don’t like Brussels sprouts. They’re gross.” I sat there with my arms crossed, facing my father. “I’m not eating them.”

“You’ll eat what I feed you.” He got up from his chair and knelt beside me. He grabbed some sprouts off my plate and turned to face me. “Open your mouth!”

I shut my mouth tight and shook my head no.

SMACK! His hand crashed into the side of my face with such force I fell out of the chair and began to cry. My father pulled me back into the chair, forced my mouth open, shoved the sprouts in, and slammed his hand over my mouth. “Swallow, you little bastard.”

Instead, my stomach revolted, and I threw up. He was keeping my mouth closed so the contents of my stomach were forced out of my nose. That made him release my mouth, and I continued to vomit.

He was so pissed off I remember him trying to feed me the vomit. Eventually he smacked the hell out of me, dragged me down into the basement, and tossed me onto a lawn chair in the middle of the dark basement.

“Listen to me, you little piece of shit. You eat what I tell you, sleep where I tell you, and do what I tell you. Because you didn’t do what I told you tonight, you get to sleep here. If you get off of there, the spiders will eat you.”

I watched him climb up the stairs, my terror growing as he did. Then he closed the door and turned off the light, plunging the basement into the dark. I cried hysterically, afraid to move a muscle, while upstairs, I could hear my parents fighting. It felt like years till the light came on and my father came back down to get me.

“Listen to me, you little bastard. If your mother and I get divorced or anything else happens, it is all your fault. I want you to go upstairs, strip, wash your mouth out, get into the tub, wash up, and get into clean pajamas. Then you are to go to bed. You are not to bother your mother, and I don’t want to hear a sound out of you. If you do, you will sleep down here from now on.”

It was then that I realized I was broken. I wasn’t like other little boys or girls in my neighborhood. I was the cause of fights and problems.

“Be careful with his hand. I think he shattered a few bones in there.”

I remember living my life and knowing it would just be a matter of time until I did something wrong and I would be hit again. A hand to the face, a belt to the back and ass, and bruises in places easily hidden. I became known as a klutz. It was easier to blame any odd mark on that than on the beatings.

I remember coming home so proud of getting a nearly perfect score in my English class.

“Look, I got a ninety-nine.” I handed over the report card smiling and figuring all my hard work would pay off, and finally my father would accept me. I had forgotten I was broken, and nothing good comes to the broken.

“So? Couldn’t you try harder?” His eyes were cold as he stared at me. “If you put effort into things, then you succeed. Guess you don’t know how to be good, do you?”

My moment in the sun had ended. I had failed again. It was driven home later that night when I got a beating for not helping my younger brother study enough for his test. He got a sixty on his spelling test. I got nearly forty welts from the belt, one for each point he was off from a hundred.

Eventually, I just learned to hide ‘til I graduated. I worked two jobs and got an apartment of my own. I lie saying it was an apartment. It was two rooms. A shower and sink in the bathroom and a room that had been the size of my old bedroom that held a bed, a tiny fridge, and the world’s smallest stove. I didn’t even have room for a television or for a chair. It cost more than I would have thought possible, but it was mine, and I was out of the house.

People often ask when you started having sex or when you realized you liked girls or guys. Me, I never pictured anyone. I was alone and had been all through my school years. It was hard to make friends because a friend wants to go to your house, too. While it would have been fine if it was just my mother, if my father showed up, two minutes later, my friend would be leaving the house, and it would be the last time I ever saw them.

I was skittish around people because I knew I was different. I was twenty-one when my life changed majorly. I had been working evenings, cleaning up in an office building. I had my CD player on my hip, and my headphones on while I worked at mopping the floor. I had been at it for about an hour, going section by section, when there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned quickly, slipped on the wet floor and fell on my ass.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

I looked up to see a hand coming at me. My immediate reaction was to try and make my body smaller. It took me a moment to realize that the hand hadn’t hit me. I looked up to see a confused man, reaching down to try and help me up.

“Um … thanks.”

He smiled and helped me regain my feet. The whole ass of my work outfit was soaked from landing on the wet floor.

“I feel bad. All I really wanted to know is if you could empty my garbage can. My secretary had tuna for lunch, and the office is beginning to stink. I didn’t mean for you to fall and all.” He reached over and began to wipe the seat of my pants. “Damn, you are soaked. There are hand dryers in the bathroom. Why don’t you take off the pants and hold them under the dryer. That way you won’t be so wet.”

I wasn’t used to someone trying to help me. I nodded mutely and walked down to the bathroom. At this time of the night, it was usually just me and Nick, the security guard. It was extremely rare for any employee to still be in the building. I slipped out of my soaked pants and hit the hand dryer. I felt like an ass standing there in my wet underwear, holding my pants under the hot air and praying they would dry quickly.

“You okay?”

I turned to find the same guy standing there. I watched as his eyes went from my legs to my face, but more than once, he seemed to be looking at my ass or crotch.

“Um … yeah.” I moved so the pants partially hid me while I had to smack the button to turn it back on again.

He was taller than I was and older, too. With dark black hair, blue eyes that were such a light color, and even in the suit, he looked massive. I couldn’t help but look at his hands. They were huge, and I trembled again.

“You’re shaking again. Should I call someone for you?”

“No. No one to call, anyway.”

He stood and looked at me again. “My name is Joshua. Everyone just calls me Josh.” He shoved that huge hand at me again.

“Ron.” I tentatively reached out and shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

I stood there trying hard to figure out what this guy could want from me. If I’d been alone, I would have probably gone and taken my underwear off, too, but with him standing just feet from me, I slipped the pants on over them.

“Yeah. I guess I should get back to work.”

He stood and watched me leave the bathroom.

Josh began to show up regularly. Finally, one night he brought dinner for both of us. Nothing fancy, just sandwiches and soda, but for me, it was the most attention I’d been shown in years.

“You know you’re really cute.”

I stared at Josh like he had three heads. Who would ever think I was cute? I went to say so when he leaned in and kissed me.

In that simple act, he had me. Someone wanted me. I had never thought of what sex might be like, never mind what it would be like between two men. I was to learn all of it whenever Josh had time for me. Of course, I forgot that I was broken until the truth came pouring out one night when Josh had come home with me. We had just had sex, and he went in for a shower. I stood naked in my room, picking up the clothes we had nearly torn off once we got inside. As I picked up his pants, his wallet fell out and opened. There before me was a picture of Josh with a beautiful woman and two children. Opposite it was a picture of him and the same woman in a wedding dress. Josh was married. As I stood there in shock holding his wallet, he walked out of the bathroom.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice cut through everything, and I jumped like I had been scalded. “How dare you go through my stuff … you … you fucking faggot.”

He grabbed his wallet out of my hand. I stood there numbly, shaking. He looked at me with such revulsion I knew I had screwed up, and it was my fault. He dressed and never once looked at me. When he was done, he stood before me like had the day we first met - in a suit, looking so powerful.

“Listen to me, you piece of shit.” His words were sharp and angry.

I couldn’t look at him and stared at the floor, while holding my hands in front of me to hide my nakedness.

His hand was like lightning and smacked my face. “Look at me. I want you to remember what I tell you.”

I shivered and stared at Josh as he stood before me.

“You are never to come to my building again. Understand me. This never happened. If you come near me or my family, I will make your life a living hell.”

I nodded, afraid to speak

He smacked my face again, this time hard enough to knock me off my feet and onto the bed. Before I could roll over, I heard the door to my apartment close. I couldn’t bring myself to face him again. I put in a request to change buildings, and the next night I was moved to a building across town. I knew then never to date anyone again. I was broken, and now I was the destroyer of other people’s families.

“His blood pressure is dropping. We need a crash cart in here, now!”

Blood? Oh yeah, blood is how I finally ended up meeting Barry. Loneliness will make you do stupid things, like agreeing to see someone you know you shouldn’t.

It was raining, and I was hungry. It was one of the rare times I was off from both jobs, and I didn’t feel like staying in my tiny apartment and trying to cook. I headed out, instead, to a local bar where I could get something to eat. Times had changed me. I wasn’t the little kid anymore; now I was pushing thirty-five. The tiny waist, cute face, and clean-shaven image of my youth had faded. I was afraid, so I ate. I’d gained weight and stopped shaving. I didn’t worry how I looked, because I just wanted to fade away and not be noticed. Funny, but even when you think you want to be totally alone, your body craves human touch. I thought I had grown beyond needing anyone or anything, but I was broken and just kept forgetting that.

I sat at a table in the back of the restaurant area, nursing a diet soda and eating a burger. As lonely as I felt, it was, nice to see people chatting and laughing together. I finished my meager meal and left the money for the food on the table. I hit the bathroom and then headed for the back exit to walk home.

“Uhhh.”

I heard the sound and froze. It was something I was familiar with: pain. I looked around but didn’t see anything. I had just taken another step when I heard it again.

“Uhh.”

This time I spotted a foot. Against every instinct I had, I walked toward the sound and found a man lying face down on the ground. I don’t know what came over me, but I found myself walking closer to him and kneeling down. His face was black and blue and his eye was already swollen shut. I probably would have run away, but his hand moved and grabbed mine.

“Help.” The sound was more of groan than a word, and as I looked at my hand, his slipped off, leaving a trail of blood behind.

I ran back to the bar, grabbed a waitress who was walking by, and quickly explained the situation. “I need an ambulance. I just found a guy beaten up behind the bar. He … he’s all bloody.”

She looked at me and then saw the blood on my hand. “I’ll call. You go back to the guy.” She turned and called at the bartender. “Jerry, someone was beaten up in the back. Call the cops and an ambulance. One of our patrons just found the guy.”

I walked back out, numbed by the events and went back to the guy’s side. I rested my hand on his arm. “Don’t worry. Help is on the way.”

It seemed like a nightmare. The next few minutes, cops and ambulance workers seemed to appear as if by magic. There were people asking me questions that I had no idea how to answer.

“Do you know this man?” One policeman began to ask me questions.

“Do you have any idea why he might have been targeted?” a female cop asked as she watched the ambulance workers going over the guy on the ground.

“Is that your blood or his? Did you get hurt as well?” one of the ambulance workers asked.

I stood there, confused and scared. Why did this have to happen? Why did it have to be me who found this guy?

It seemed like forever until everyone was done with me and I could go home to hide in my apartment. Unfortunately, in today’s world, you can’t stay hidden forever.

It was three weeks later and I was working my day job as a waiter in a stupid chain restaurant. It was just after the lunch rush, and I was preparing to go home when I felt a hand on my arm. I turned, frightened to find a stranger facing me. His face was a mass of yellow and purple, and his eye was mostly open.

“Hey. You must be Ron. I came to thank you for your help. The hospital said if you hadn’t found me when you did, I might not have survived.”

I nodded. I didn’t want to be thanked; I just wanted to be left alone. ”Sure. No big deal.”

“No, really. I wanted to thank you. My name is Barry.” He stuck his hand out for a handshake.

I really didn’t want to do anything, but I found myself shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Ron. And thank you so much for what you did.”

“How did you know my name?” My voice squeaked as I spoke.

“The police let me know about you. It wasn’t very hard to find you when I got out of the hospital.”

When you are dealing with someone who is associated with police, hospitals, blood, and beatings, chances are you shouldn’t get to know them. I was never too smart. Barry began coming around often to the restaurant. He said he wanted to be my friend, and before long, I found myself wanting to be around him.

“Why don’t you just move in here, Ron? It would save you all sorts of money. Besides, I have the space.”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to get in your way, Barry. Besides, what if you have a date? I would hate to be a problem.”

“You wouldn’t be.” Barry smiled and stood up. “Trust me, Ron.”

Barry gave me a hug, and I enjoyed it more than I wanted to let on. Someone was touching me again for the first time in years.

I found myself moving in a week later. It wasn’t long until I also found myself sharing his bed.

“Yes, doctor, we got permission from his brother for the surgery. His brother is flying out here now.”

The first time I ever flew was when Barry took me on my first vacation. We flew out to Florida and he took me to Disney World. We had been living together, and basically, anything he wanted I was always willing to do for him, but on that vacation, I wasn’t used to the heat and found myself totally worn out. It was the first time I had ever told him no and the first time he ever hit me.

“I’m so tired, Barry.” I wiped the sweat from my face as I turned to face him. “God, that was so much fun.”

“Come on. I want to go out tonight and have fun. Let’s hit the bars and do a little dancing at the clubs.” Barry leaned against the frame of the door to our hotel room. “I want to enjoy every moment here.”

“I’m so exhausted. Go enjoy yourself. I’m going to crash and sleep like a rock.”

“No, you aren’t.” Barry stepped into the room and got into my face. “I said we are going out.”

“But …”

Smack! Barry backhanded me and my head rocked. For a moment I saw nothing but stars.

“Now, get your ass ready. I want you downstairs in five minutes.”

I’m not sure why, but I just went in and got dressed. I should have left then, but instead, I just followed his directions and set myself up for everything that followed. That night, he got drunk and let the real Barry come out. I learned he is a mean drunk.

“You need sex. That is why you are as uptight as you are.” Barry’s breath reeked, and he pulled himself close to me.

“No. I am fine as I am.”

“Bullshit.” Barry reached out and ripped my new Disney shirt down the front. My pale skin was exposed, and fear made me break out in a sudden cold sweat. I felt frozen within my own skin as he reached out and fondled my chest.

“Yeah. I like your big nipples.” Barry leaned over and bit my left pec.

“Ouch. Barry, stop.”

He stood up and punched me in the gut. I fell to the floor, the air rushing out of me.

“Don’t you ever tell me no. You aren’t like the last bitch. He had to have help; you‘re alone.”

I had no idea what he meant, but I never got to really figure it out. That night he raped me. I woke up sore, bruised, and in pain. I should have run then, but I really didn’t know where I could run to.

From then on, it became a cycle. He would apologize, buy me something nice, swear it wouldn’t happen again,and all was good with the world until it happened again.

I’ve heard it said that everyone has a breaking point. Mine came when he got rid of Joy. It had been a long day at work, and I was tired. After his last attack he bought me a puppy, a Golden Labrador. I named him Joy. Joy became my safety net. When things seemed bad or I just didn’t know what to do, Joy showed up and put his head in my lap, and all was right with the world.

“Hey, Joy. Where are you, boy?” I began looking for my faithful companion.

“He’s gone.”

I turned to find Barry standing there, looking angry as hell.

“Where is Joy? What do you mean, he’s gone?”

“You care more for the fucking dog than you do me. I got rid of him.”

My heart leapt to my throat. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe at all. “What do you mean, got rid of him?”

“Nothing you have to worry about. Damn dog is gone. End of story.”

Barry walked out of the room, and I collapsed onto the floor, crying like a baby. It took me about a half an hour to pull myself together. I’d finally had enough. You can beat on me and scar me all you want, but you don’t do that to Joy. I didn’t even know where my dog was. Was he alive or dead? I’d finally had enough of Barry.

I slipped down the hall to the little room that I called mine. I still didn’t own much. Just three drawers of clothes was all that I owned in the world. I pulled my suitcase out from under the bed and began to stuff my belongings into it.

“Ron? Ron, where the hell are you?”

I could hear Barry calling me. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to know I was packing, so I slipped the nearly full suitcase back under the bed and stepped into the hallway.

“There you are. Why didn’t you answer me?”

“I was going to shower.” I couldn’t look him in the face, but as I looked toward him, I could see him flexing his fists. “What’s wrong?”

“You were going to leave me, weren’t you?”

I stood my ground. I didn’t say a word.

“You were going to leave me!”

“You took Joy from me.” I looked into his face. For the first time, I was angry.

“You don’t get to leave.” Barry stepped in close to me, raising his voice the nearer he came. “I bought you Joy, and I took him away. That is my right.”

“You don’t own me, and you didn’t own Joy.” I screamed right back at him.

The first punch to my face did serious damage. He was wearing a ring, and it cut open my face when he slammed his fist into it. I’d been hit so much and so often that it didn’t bother me anymore. Only this time, instead of just taking it, I made a fist and punched him back.

“You little bastard!” He snarled at me and kneed me in the balls.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” I cried at him between breaths.

Then the beating began in earnest. I remember seeing him pick up a chair and break it. The noise got to be so much from my screaming and him cursing at me that the neighbors called the cops and an ambulance. The last thing I clearly remember was him standing over me.

“You ain’t as lucky as the last bitch. His whole family had to beat me up so he could leave. You don’t get to leave me. You don’t get that luxury.” Barry was about to swing the chair leg at me again when the cop broke open the door.

“Drop it and step away from him.”

Barry went to swing the leg at me and the cop shot him in the arm.

I remember seeing his face, and then I blacked out.

“He is coming around again. Ronald, can you hear me?”

I managed to open one eye, and the room was swimming around me, so I quickly shut it.

“Ronald, if you are able to, I need you to squeeze my hand.”

I don’t know why this woman was asking such stupid questions. Shouldn’t I be seeing someone about a halo right about now? Instead, this broad wanted me to squeeze her hand. My hand felt like it was made of lead and was filled with glass shards.

“He moved his finger. That is more than I thought he would be able to do. Ronald is going to make it.”

Please. I’ve got worse scars on my soul than my body can ever hold. I was broken long before now and survived it. If this woman thinks this is going to stop me, she doesn’t know how the broken keep moving, even when we are further shattered.