The Making of a Slave - 1. The Beginning

Most of my experiences include my friend Zack. He was present at many of my life shaping events. Each one became an important building block that helped mold my persona, but I’ll start by describing an incident that happened before I met him that may have had some impact. It happened during Thanksgiving at my cousin's house when I was 10 years old. Me and a few of my cousins were hanging out in the basement - where all us kids usually congregated. It was after dinner and dessert. Everyone was getting ready to leave and all the adults and my two brothers were upstairs. In the basement with me were three boy and three girl cousins, ranging from a year older to a year younger.

We had been talking about who had seen the private parts of someone of the opposite sex other than their brother or sister. It started with one of my cousins telling a story of who he’d seen and then everybody contributed stories. As everyone talked, questions were asked and answered. I did not have such an experience and one other cousin admitted she had never seen someone else’s penis. The spotlight came on me and I truthfully conceded that I had no story to tell. For some reason that was met with a sense of skepticism among the rest.

Almost instantly the focus moved to giving Amy her first dick sighting and it was decided, without my input, to make me her first show. I was sitting on the floor with my back against an ottoman. My cousin Jimmy, the oldest one, came up behind me and rolled the ottoman away from me so my back was off it and moved to hold me down. Talking to Lauren, the second oldest, he said, “I’ll get his arms, you get his legs.”

“Wha, wha, what are you doing,” I nervously asked as I tried to squirm away.

Lauren, who was Amy’s older sister, sat on my legs and held them and confirmed, “I got him.”

Jimmy was holding both arms but I managed to get one free. Realizing that they were going to go for my pants I held my pants and belt buckle tight with the free arm.

“His arm, get his arm,” said Jimmy to Robbie, his younger brother.

Robbie, using both his arms, pulled my hand away from the grasp I had holding on my pants. “Got it!” He said with satisfaction as he handed the grip off to Jimmy.

Once they had my hands I was pretty helpless. Robbie helped Lauren immobilize my legs while Jimmy held on to each of my wrists. That gave Teresa, who was a year younger than me, the opportunity to start working on my belt buckle. Her twin brother Tommy helped but it wasn’t really needed as It came undone easily as did the button on my pants. With Jimmy pulling back on my arms and Teresa yanking down on my pants and underwear my dick was quickly exposed. There was a chorus of laughing and giggling as they held me long enough so they could all get a look - which took a minute or two. All they did was look, no one touched my dick. Amy walked on over and looked fixedly at my exposed body.

“You see it, Amy?” Asked Lauren. “You see what it looks like?”

Amy stayed gazing with an awed look on her face and just nodded. With that Jimmy let go of my arms and Lauren got up off my legs. I quickly pulled my pants back up.

It was embarrassing at that age and especially having Amy, Lauren and Teresa see my dick. There was an awkward moment of silence while they smiled and looked at each other feeling proud of their accomplishment. Everyone started to file upstairs to go home and we left shortly after that. I do remember the awkward feeling the next time we all got together at Christmastime. It was hard to look them in the eyes. It was really never talked about again, at least not with me or my brothers. I think in some ways they felt bad for doing it especially since I don’t think I did anything to bring it on. My guess is that, for my cousins, the incident faded away and was forgotten.

For me, it had a lasting impact and I sometimes still think about it today. It was my first feeling of something happening to me where I had little to no control. I wonder why I didn’t fight harder or even scream - which probably would have stopped it since a parent would have likely heard. Was it part of my nature to limit my resistance? Why was I singled out? Was it just being in the wrong place at the wrong time or did I give off a vibe?

Fast forward a few years to middle school when I first met Zack. He was a quiet kid who kept to himself, slightly taller than most with fair skin, blue eyes and short cut light copper blonde hair. He was not bothered or bullied by others and was pretty much allowed to go about his own way. He often contributed to class discussion and always seemed to have the correct answer when called upon. Like me, he was known as one of the ‘smart kids' but unlike me, no one ever asked to copy his homework or other assignments. We each had our own set of lunch hangouts but neither of us were part of any special clique or group.

My first interaction with him was when we were put on a group project together. Before that we’d always say hi to each other but never really talked. The project required that we meet up after school and we met at my house. At my house, any friends of mine or my brothers that came over ended up in the basement. We got pretty much right to business, discussing the topic and outlining our response. I was happy with this because, in the past, for every group project, I ended up doing most or all of the work.

We had to meet a few times to complete the project and it wasn’t until the third time that he started opening up and talking about other things. I found out he, like me, was a huge Sponge Bob fan. We also shared an interest in Hey Arnold, Fairly Odd Parents, Jimmy Neutron and both loved the Scooby Doo movie. He was intellectually similar to me - school work came easy to both of us and we were quick to grasp new concepts. We both had the same approach to school work and found the same things funny. I found he had a sharp sense of humor with a good bit of subtle sarcasm baked in.

While I had the reputation of someone you can mess with, Zack had a somewhat opposite aura. It wasn’t that people were afraid of him, he wasn’t physically larger than most, but he gave a vibe of confidence that deterred anyone from challenging him. Also unlike me, he was never sarcastic or disrespectful to people and he commanded the same treatment back to him.

Neither of us had many friends. My middle brother Mark, who was only 14 months younger than me, had a set of friends and when they were over I would hang out with them. I would also spend a lot of time with my youngest brother Peter who was 8 years younger than me. Zack also had a much younger brother, Trevor, but really didn't spend time with him or anyone else.

After that project, we started to develop a friendship and it seemed to be a good fit. He lived close by, on the same street but two blocks away. At school however, things remained status quo. We talked a bit more during the school day but kept to our own lunch groups. At school, I had the reputation of someone you can pick on and get away with it.

Even though I was non confrontational, I had a habit of getting myself into situations usually for saying something I shouldn’t have. My thoughts instantly defaulted to unfiltered sarcasm and it rubbed people the wrong way. In many cases, my mouth got me into trouble that could have been avoided if I had a bit more discretion.

On occasion, Zack would witness one of these encounters and he would ignore it or steer clear of it. These were mostly mild and done in jest, like pushing my books off a desk or throwing something at me. None were bad, but I was just known as the one it was OK to do it to.

Outside of school we got together at my house or the town park and pool. We never talked about any of the school stuff but he knew of my reputation and it was known by both that he’d seen some of the encounters. I started to notice how he liked to be in control. It was he who dictated what we did and when we stopped, even if it was at my house. It was very subtle and I was glad to have my own friend so I generally went along.

Any shyness he had quickly dissipated. He felt comfortable telling me if he was thirsty or hungry and what drinks and snacks to get him. If I didn’t have what he wanted, he’d suggest going to the store and getting it and we did each time, riding our bikes to get there. This became second nature and I thought nothing out of the ordinary. I enjoyed spending time with him and felt he liked it too. I started to feel like I finally had a best friend.

In April of 7th grade, Zack’s father died. It was very sad and the only time I’ve ever seen Zack cry. We spent a lot of time together that week and it felt awkward to me in many ways. I didn’t know what to say or how to react but I stayed with him any time I could. I brought him all the school work for the week and stuck around while he went through it.

“Here are the homework assignments,” I said as I sat down next to him at the table. “Mrs. Walsh said you didn’t have to do it and My Garrity said you can catch up when you get back.”

“Na, rather do it now,” replied Zach.

Next, I turned to the English assignment and said, “Here’s where I found the answers to questions…” My explanation was interrupted by a sniffle and whimper as Zack softly started to weep.

Not knowing how to react, I clumsily put my arm around him. He shifted a bit as if to shake me off and I dropped my arm. “Ok,” he continued, having taken a few seconds to compose himself, “what questions are from here?”

“Questions 3 and 4,” I replied. “It’s all on this page right here.”

A few minutes passed as he read and wrote in silence then I heard him inhale and sniffle again. He tried again to hold it back but instead burst into all out crying. I felt even more uncomfortable than before but still clueless as to what to do, I just tried putting my arm around him again.

This time he turned to me, rested his head on my upper arm and let it all out. I moved my other arm over so as to hold him in an open side-by-side hug. His blubbering turned into more of a bawl and I held him tighter until it started to subside.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied shakily as he nodded and recovered from the crying.

I held the embrace and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said again as he pulled away from the hug. Sounding more fully recovered he said, “Thanks for bringing over the work. I’ll finish it later but I have to get dressed for the wake.”

“OK, do you want me to hang out while you get ready?” I asked. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Na, it’s OK,” he replied.

We both got up off our chairs and he stepped over to me and gave me a tight hug, holding it for a few seconds as he said, “Thank you so much Andrew.”

Even in this very sad moment, that last hug made me feel a bond with him. It felt very good. I tapped my hand on top of his shoulder and said, “OK, I’ll see you later.”

After the week passed and we were back in school, I noticed a subtle difference. Instead of steering clear of incidents I had with other kids at school, Zack started to come over to them and diffuse them. He had a very subtle, non confrontational way to do it and it seemed to work. Zack had this sense of justice and would get involved to make things right and, even though it had the same effect, iit did not come off as him protecting me.

I tried to spend more time with him at school but still respected his boundaries and did not try to join his lunch crew or infiltrate any of his other school relations. I don’t think the closeness of our friendship was apparent to the other kids in school. I’m not even sure how Zack felt about it. Although I felt a connection, and definitely saw him as my best friend, I could not be sure he felt the same way.

My biggest competition for best friend was Patrick. He was part of Zack’s lunch crew and the one guy that Zack was hanging out with when he wasn’t with me. He and Zack had a lot in common and were both on the middle school swim team. It was actually associated with the local high school but they allowed 7th and 8th graders to participate. They both talked about going to that high school. I was destined for a Catholic school.

Patrick was very tall and, although he wasn’t fat in any way or overly muscular, he gave off a strong solid appearance. He had red hair, blue eyes and very fair skin. He wore glasses and, like us, was a bit of a nerd and one of the smarter kids in school. He was also a quiet guy but, similar to Zack, no one seemed to mess with him. His height and size probably had a lot to do with that.

While Zack and I were in all the advanced classes together, Patrick was only in one of them with us and we never hung out together. Zack seemed to like to keep the two worlds separate. I was clear one time when I attended a swim meet and Zack did not go out of his way to make me feel welcome. He wasn’t mean and didn’t say anything but I got the message. If I called for Zack and he had plans with Patrick, he’d just decline my invitation. I was careful not to push it and was happy to take whatever time he had free. I didn’t have that second friend but did spend a lot of time with my brother’s friends.