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    rustle
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Not Done Yet - 16. Laid Bare

Laid Bare

Casey was waiting by the side of the road with his hands in the pockets of his sweats, his cap low over his eyes. When he saw Jim’s car, he smiled and put out his thumb. Jim pulled up next to him and rolled down the window. Rasping breathlessly, he coughed and retched out, “Hey, little boy, you want some candy?” and did his best to leer at Casey.

Casey lost it then, and started laughing so hard, he began to cough and doubled over. Jim didn’t break character, and twice, Casey looked up, only to see him and start laughing all over again. He was finally able to gasp, “Jim, don’t look at me like that! Please! No more!”

It was Jim’s turn to laugh. “Climb in, bud. Next stop is Wally World.” That’s what Jim always called Wal-Mart. He’d tried to explain the joke, but Casey never understood until Jim made him watch an old Chevy Chase movie. Jim thought the movie was hilarious, but Casey had pretended to be unmoved.

Casey got in and buckled himself in. “Hey, big spender, does Carol know you’re splurging? Nothing but the finest for you, huh?”

“What happens out of Carol’s sight stays out of sight, buddy. Got it? Besides, Wal-Mart has the biggest selection of cheap C-grade movies in town. I was hoping for a chick flick. Might get lucky tonight.”

Jim had already pulled away from the curb, and Casey yelled, “Stop the car! Let me out! It’s not worth it! I can feel my young, impressionable mind being warped by these thoughts!” He made a show of trying to unbuckle his seat belt and pulling on the door handle, but the automatic door locks had already activated when the car started to move.

“Too late now, boyo. Didn’t anybody warn you about getting in the car with somebody? Now you’re a kidnap victim, under my control. BWAHAHA!”

“Speak into the microphone, please. John Weaver and CPS will be VERY interested in this conversation.”

“You little asshole! That’s cheating!”

“Jim, you know I’m only kidding.” Casey looked concerned. He’d learned that complaints against foster parents were investigated rigorously.

They pulled up to the intersection, and Jim stopped and put the car in park. He turned to face Casey. “Yes, I know,” he said softly, “But if anybody ever heard you say something like that, even as a joke, well, you know how little humor they would find in the comment. Before you think I’m upset, I’m not. It’s just you and me in this car, but I just feel like we can both use a little reminder once in a while, to keep our humor in check. K?”

Casey looked uncomfortable and shifted in his seat, but he finally looked Jim straight in the eye. “K.”

“Gotta ask, is that sense of humor new? The boy I met a few months back barely knew how to crack a smile, so scared he was gonna set a foot wrong.” He glanced over at the young man at his side, who was sitting back in the seat with a sly expression.

“I think you’re infectious.”

Jim put the car in drive, checked for traffic, and turned onto the shoulder before building up to speed. “Good thing Carol seems to be immune. I couldn’t stand to live with myself.”

Casey was taking a swig from his water bottle, and spewed it out. He shook the water off his hands and wiped them on his shirt. “You did that on purpose!”

“Yeh, well, timing is everything in comedy.”

“I guess you would know A LOT more about comedy than I do, then, seein’ as how I’m not as old.” Jim chuckled at the jab.

Driving in silence for a couple of minutes, Casey was fumbling with his phone, looking down the road, when he said, “Jim, thanks for calling, and for picking me up.”

“Sure, bud. Carol mentioned you were asking when I’d be home, and I figured you might have something on your mind. I told her when my son asked when I was gettin’ home, he probably wasn’t just thinkin’ about suppertime.”

“Son?”

They’d been driving along a back road for a few minutes, with little traffic, but Jim pulled over. He unbuckled his seat belt, got out, and walked around to the passenger side. Opening Casey’s door, he said, “Get out.”

Casey slowly got out, and was shocked when he suddenly found himself wrapped in a tight hug. When Jim released him, Casey looked at his foster father’s face. He looked like he’d been slapped. “Damn. Your mom was right... Casey, I don’t give a fuck who sired you, you’re mine. My Son. I love you, boy. I love to hear you call me Dad. If I could just get your biological parents to sign the papers, I’d adopt you today, ‘cause tomorrow’s not soon enough.”

Casey fell backwards. Only the car behind him kept him upright. Jim’s eyes were blazing, fierce emerald green, his cheeks shining wet. Casey’s chest was heaving as he charged forward and tackled Jim in a hard hug, taking them both to the ground.

Jim wrapped his left arm around Casey to hold him close, and laid his other hand on his son’s head to stroke his hair. “Where the heck did that come from, kid?”

Casey’s head was buried in Jim’s chest as he sniffed. He said, “Dad, it’s just, sometimes, it hurts, ‘cause I’m afraid this is all going to go away, or I’ll wake up to find it was all a dream, or you’ll change your minds about me. That you’ll find out I’m not what you wanted.”

“Never gonna happen, boy.” The two lay in the tall, soft gamma grass, while an occasional car shot past, trying to compose themselves, looking up at the sky. The clear blue deepened bit by bit. When they finally got up again, they slowly made their way back to the car. Jim cleared his throat. “Before we forgot that we’re manly men who never do anything to lose our dignity, I coulda sworn you were gonna say something serious. You wanna spit it out now?”

“I – nevermind.”

Jim faced his son and set his hands on the boy’s shoulders, lowering his face to look Casey in the eye. “Hey, whatever it is, I don’t want anything standing between us.”

Casey looked down and bit his lip.

“Case, we wouldn’t give you up without a fight so long and hard, you’d be eighteen, and able to make your own decision before they could take you away from us. And we would hope and pray and work our butts off to earn your love the whole time.”

“I don’t want you to be disappointed in me… But I’m not in love with Sara, and I’m not in love with Karen. And I don’t know what to do ‘cause I don’t know how to tell the person I do love how I feel.”

Jim smiled gently and squeezed Casey’s shoulders and said, “I don’t think you’ve got it in you to disappoint anybody, Sport. You walk up to this person and you tell ‘em what makes you feel the way you do – the things you do together, the things you share, the way you feel when you’re together. If you can’t say three little words, then say fifteen big ones. I’ve heard you talk with Carol late at night about religion and philosophy, and you know what impresses me most? You don’t parrot what others say or write. You put it in your own words. You can do this.”

“I – I’ll try. But…”

“Only one “but” is allowed.”

The boy was clinging to his fear. His head was hanging, his posture slumped, his eyes closed, and he barely breathed out, “It’s James.”

“Casey, look at me.” Casey slowly looked up, and Jim was smiling! “The advice still stands, bud.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” Casey still looked miserable.

“Whoa, buddy boy, what if he does? Dontcha wanna find out?” Jim opened up Casey’s door. “Now, come on and get in, kid. Your mom’s gonna be worryin’ about us.”

Jim walked around the car and they both got in. “Jim,” Casey asked, “Doesn’t it bother you that I’m, you know, that way?”

“Kid, that only matters to you and the one you love. Everybody else can suck it, and you can tell ‘em I said so. Your mom feels the same. Now, buckle up and give her a call. Let her know we’re runnin’ late.”

K.C.
K.C.
K.C.
2015-2016 Russell Kyle, all rights reserved. Not to be reproduced without written consent of the author.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Definitely caught me off guard: I was expecting him to say farewell to Sara but then date Karen before he figured out where his heart truly lay. Glad that he didn't go through the extra stage, however -- for Karen's sake, for James' sake (not sure how much more disappointment he could take), for Casey's sake, and maybe a little for the reader's sake. Plenty more room for twists and turns, but then, I guess that's why it is Not Done Yet. :o
Thanks, Rustle, for a heartwarming story!

On 11/28/2015 12:27 AM, hillj69 said:

Definitely caught me off guard: I was expecting him to say farewell to Sara but then date Karen before he figured out where his heart truly lay. Glad that he didn't go through the extra stage, however -- for Karen's sake, for James' sake (not sure how much more disappointment he could take), for Casey's sake, and maybe a little for the reader's sake. Plenty more room for twists and turns, but then, I guess that's why it is Not Done Yet. :o

Thanks, Rustle, for a heartwarming story!

Thanks for reading, and you're right, it's Not Done Yet. Real stories never really end, though, do they? We just frame them with a beginning and end.

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