The Most Dangerous Place - 1. Story

"Your principal paid me a visit today,” Audrey stated as she finished serving herself the potatoes and passed the casserole dish to her son. Her voice was emotionless and she kept her eyes carefully focused on her meal instead of her son.

“Really?” Lee inquired in a hoarse voice as his appetite abandoned him.

“Is it true?” Audrey questioned through clinched teeth as she channeled her frustration into the pot roast she was cutting.

“Is what true?” Lee responded evasively.

“Do you want me to repeat what he said?” Audrey answered as she finally looked up at her son. “DO YOU?!” she shouted losing control of her emotions.

“Do you want me to repeat what you did!?” Audrey demanded as she rose to her feet and clinched her hands into tiny, angry balls.

“Mom, it’s not-”

“Who is he?” Audrey asked in a low voice.

Lee paused, unsure of how to react.

“I said, WHO IS HE?” She repeated loudly as her left eye began to twitch from the emotion of the situation.

“David Goldberg. He’s in the year ahead of me,” Lee answered.

“So, you’re a queer and a Jew-lover,” Audrey stated as tears began to silently trickle down her cheeks.

“Mom, I-”

“Go to your room,” Audrey said firmly.

“Mom, I can explain,” Lee said frantically as he stood up.

“I said go to your room. Dinner is over,” Audrey repeated as she began gathering up their uneaten meal.

 

 

Lee didn’t want to leave that table. He didn’t want to leave his mother standing in their small dinning room with those thoughts running through her head. Thoughts that her son was a queer. Thoughts that the people of their small Kentucky town would now have yet another piece of scandalous gossip about her.

It wasn’t easy for Audrey; Lee knew that. She had done a good job as a single, unwed mother in a time and place in which that was about the last thing a woman wanted to be. Indeed, the only thing more shameful than being a single mother was being a queer.

Lee wasn’t a queer; he was certain of that. It was true that he might have enjoyed sucking off David Goldberg and maybe he did like to look at the other guys in the shower after baseball practice, but he wasn’t a queer. Queers were worthless and Lee didn’t consider himself worthless. He wanted to tell his mother that. Lee didn’t want to leave that table. He didn’t get a choice.

These were the thoughts going through his head when the rock came through his bedroom window.

 

 

Audrey didn’t drink. Alcohol was the Devil’s tool. Audrey had already allowed enough sin into her life when she met Lee’s father, Henry. Henry was a good-looking man…and a drinker.

One evening when they were Lee’s age Audrey did drink. She wasn’t really sure what happened after her fourth, or maybe fifth, drink. All she knew is that she woke up with a headache and without Henry. She also woke up with a feeling in her stomach akin to morning sickness. This was a feeling she would get very well-acquainted with over the next few months.

Margaret, her own mother, was horrified, then just horrible. So horrible in fact that when Audrey first began to ‘show’ and Margaret suggested that she go and stay with a cousin from another state Audrey didn’t argue. In fact she was relieved that her friends there in Ohio wouldn’t need to know about her problem. Audrey never returned to her hometown. Instead she decided to settle next door to that cousin and her family in that small Kentucky town with her newborn son.

Tonight, for the first time, Audrey began to understand how her mother must have felt. Audrey wasn’t stupid though. She realized that this might actually be worse for her and Lee than her unmarried status could ever be. Audrey loved Lee. She loved him so much that after the events of the day she dearly wished that he had never been born. It would have been far better than the misery and eternal damnation which now awaited him.

These were the thoughts going through her head when she heard the crash of glass coming from her son’s room. Audrey didn’t drink, but she finished her third glass of gin and ignored the noise.

 

 

Lee wasn’t sure how to react. For several seconds he sat motionless on his bed, staring at the intruding stone which now lay on his bedroom floor. Finally, he got up, tentatively crossed the room, and gingerly picked it up, examining it as though he had never seen a rock before. Of course in his bedroom he hadn’t.

“Stupid faggot!” came a hostile voice from outside of his now shattered window.

“Goddamn queer!” came another.

Lee felt his blood beginning boil. Who the hell did they think they were coming to his house and throwing rocks through his window? Did they really think they could shout their obscenities at him and go unpunished? Lee didn’t think so as he angrily grabbed his baseball bat from where it was leaning against the wall and rushed out of his room, through the narrow hallway, and down the stairs.

By the time Lee had made it through his front door he had heard several muted thuds bang against the outside of his house. Lee was unaware that these thuds were the sounds of rotten eggs breaking against the wall. He realized soon enough though as he stepped onto his front porch and was assaulted by the putrid aroma.

“Look the queer wants to play baseball,” said a deep, mocking voice.

“Let’s see if he can hit this!” came another jeering baritone.

Just then one of the rotten eggs smashed against Lee’s forehead. It was also no consolation to Lee that he had now recognized the voices as belonging to two of the town’s high school dropouts and petty criminals. Lee briefly wondered if he was making a mistake. He briefly wondered. Then he rushed violently toward the nearer of the two vandals and raised his bat.

As he drew back and prepared to crack the other guy’s head open Lee suddenly felt a very sharp, stabbing pain in his back just below his right shoulder blade. As his muscles spasmed he involuntarily dropped his bat and turned awkwardly around to face his attacker.

“You stupid fucking faggot! Look what you made me do!” the teen wailed in an alarmed voice.

“Mike, finish the fucker and let’s get the hell outta here!” Lee’s would-be target screamed to his companion as he began to back toward the car which they’d parked on Lee’s front lawn.

Mike looked into Lee’s already glassy eyes and fear began to clutch his gut. That fear soon turned to revulsion however as Lee stumbled forward and grasped Mike’s shoulder to keep from falling.

”Don’t touch me you queer!” Mike shouted as he drove the knife repeatedly into Lee’s side and stomach before dropping it and racing toward the car.

As Lee crumpled to his knees and breathing began to become more difficult he was surprised when the shooting pain began to feel more like a dull ache. Lee wasn’t sure how to react, so he closed his eyes.

 

 

The gin splashed all over the lace tablecloth on Audrey’s nightstand as the sound of malicious taunts startled her already sloppy motor skills. She quickly downed the half-filled tumbler and rose shakily to her feet.

By the time she’d stumbled into the hallway her son’s face was already being covered in rotten egg. She tried desperately to get down the stairs but her inebriated feet weren’t cooperating. On the fourth step from the bottom her right foot caught the back of her left slipper and she tumbled the rest of the way down the stairs.

Time passed slowly and yet quickly in the way that it often does for a drunken woman. Audrey was aware that there had been more agitated shouts and she could clearly distinguish the sound of tires spinning on a gravel road. At last it was quiet though and Audrey had almost forgotten why she had been going down the stairs in the first place. Suddenly she remembered and her stomach knotted in a combination of dread and anger.

As she limped through her front door she was suddenly overcome by a strong, rancid smell which resulted in a strong wave of nausea. By the time she’d finished throwing up over the side of the porch she was once again unsure of why she was out there to begin with. Then she saw her son…

Her drunkenness all but gone, she rushed over to him and cradled his head in her lap. She shook him, desperately pressed her hands against his wounds, and screamed at him to wake up. Lee did not wake up. Audrey fought with every fiber of her being to keep from acknowledging Lee’s continued unresponsiveness, but at last it began to sink in. When it did Audrey cried. Then she cried some more.

Finally, Audrey looked up from where she was weeping into her son’s chest and noticed the glimmer of a knife in the moonlight lying a few feet away from them. Audrey stopped thinking at that point. At least she stopped thinking in the way that she understood thought to work.

Audrey calmly stood up and retrieved the bloodied knife. As she held it she once again looked at Lee’s now cold body. When she gazed at his open mouth she was suddenly assaulted by the image of a yarmulke wearing Jew plunging his cock into it.

Audrey let out an anguished sigh as she clenched her eyes shut and tried to shake the image from her mind. When she opened her eyes again she became vaguely aware that she was covered in her son’s blood and holding the knife which had killed him. She briefly wondered how this would look. Then Audrey decided she didn’t care.

Still operating in a hazy, irrational daze Audrey walked back into the house carrying the knife. As she passed her discarded slippers, one at the bottom of the stairwell and another a few steps up, she was briefly overcome by a small bout of hysterical laughter. In fact she was still giggling as she was walked into her bedroom.

Crossing the room and lifting the tumbler with the hand in which she still gripped the knife, Audrey clumsily poured herself another drink. As she raised it to her lips and swallowed it down in two gulps she inadvertently cut the side of her face with the sharp blade. Audrey didn’t care.

As the blood trickled down her face she returned the tumbler to the bedside table. After which, her curiosity, which could only be described as morbid at that point, once again focused on the knife in her hand. A plan, no an inevitability, began to form in her mind as she slowly used her left hand to remove the knife from her right one and idly watched as a bit of her skin stuck to the almost dried blood on the gruesome blade’s handle.

Her mind made up, she returned her focus to the gin and tumbler on her nightstand. She smirked as she raised the tumbler and hurled it through her window. With much of her anger released she sighed, grabbed the gin bottle and downed several more gulps. Then without as much as a pause she slashed both her wrists hard and deep.

As she slowly sank to the floor and waited for the darkness to overtake her she decided a little more gin wouldn’t go amiss. She clawed at the tablecloth on her nightstand and succeeded in overturning the bottle. The gin splashed all over the lace tablecloth and Audrey didn’t care.

 

 

Lee awoke with a dizzy, light feeling. As he took in his surroundings he became confused. Why was he lying on the front lawn? Why wasn’t he in his bed in his bedroom? Why couldn’t he move his arms? Or his legs? Or even raise his head?

Slowly the memory of a sound began to form on the outer-edge of his consciousness. There was a crash. The sound of glass breaking. He remembered shouts, abusive shouts. Suddenly the memories came flooding back in a tidal wave of fear and anger.

He had been attacked. He remembered now. They must have left him lying there to die in his own yard. As the anger surged more strongly through him Lee didn’t feel light anymore. Suddenly he could move his body…well, he thought he could.

As Lee sprang to his feet he noticed something peculiar; his body didn’t rise with him. It seemed to and yet it didn’t. He was still looking at his body lying on the grass, only he didn’t seem to be in it anymore.

As Lee’s anger became diluted by confusion he felt the lightness returning. Suddenly he felt powerless and realized that he once again couldn’t move. Instead Lee was stuck staring at his own lifeless corpse.

As he stared at his corporeal remains rage over what had been done to him once again pulsed through Lee. The stronger the rage became the stronger he felt. Lee could move again, and he noticed that the front door of his home was standing ajar.

His mother! What if they had harmed his mother? Lee raced into the house and was dismayed and alarmed when he spotted Audrey’s slippers on the stairs. Lee felt scared, very scared. Once again anger ceased to be his primary emotion and once again he was stopped, dead, in his tracks.

Lee’s fear began to reach a panic level. What if he couldn’t get up the stairs and see about his mother? What if she needed him? As the fear overwhelmed him he felt weak, weak but mobile. He found that the deep fear also gave him the ability to move. Compelled onward by this fear he dashed up the stairs to his mother’s room.

When Lee stepped through Audrey’s bedroom door and found her body lying in a pool of blood and gin Lee once again – briefly – lost his presence of movement before yet another emotion overwhelmed him…

 

 

********

 

40 years later

 

“Your principal paid me a visit today,” Joyce stated as she handed her son a paper plate and opened the pizza box. Her voice contained a calm, soothing quality which belied the nervousness she felt.

“Really?” Andrew inquired in a hoarse voice as his appetite abandoned him.

“Is it true?” Joyce asked softly as she looked at her son.

“Is what true?” Andrew responded evasively.

“Were you…” Joyce paused unsure of how to proceed. “Were you doing things with a boy in the restroom?”

Andrew’s eyes became wide with fear and he felt as though his heart had just stopped. “Mom I…” he trailed off as his lip began to quiver and he half-dropped, half-placed his pizza on the kitchen counter.

“Sshhh, baby it’s okay,” Joyce said soothingly as she drew her son into a tight embrace and rubbed his back.

Andrew began to sob softly as he clutched his mother. “I’m sorry.”

“Who is he?” Joyce asked simply as she pulled back enough to kiss Andrew’s forehead and re-establish eye-contact.

“Jamal Jackson. He’s in the year ahead of me,” Andrew answered quietly, wondering if the obviously ethnic name would create any new problems.

“Are you,” Joyce paused again wondering what the best phrase was, “dating him?” she finished.

“No,” Andrew said as his blush returned and he realized that he’d basically just announced to his own mother that he was willing to perform oral sex in the school restroom on guys he wasn’t even seeing.

It was his first sexual experience of any kind. Jamal had come on to him as he was washing his hands and before he realized what was happening Mr. Hicks, one of the chemistry teachers, had walked in and caught him giving Jamal head. It wasn’t exactly one of his proudest moments.

“Honey, it’s okay if you’re gay…are you?” Joyce asked.

Andrew nodded, relieved by his mother’s words.

Joyce continued, “It isn’t okay to have sex – of any kind – in a public restroom, especially with a stranger.”

Jamal wasn’t quite a stranger, Andrew had been seeing him in the halls for the last couple of years, but he took her point. “Mom, I’m so sorry. I…I uh…I don’t really know how it happened.”

“Mrs. Woods thought it might be better if you finished the year somewhere else,” Joyce said sadly.

Mrs. Woods was the principal of Andrew’s school and Joyce had been surprised, but not displeased when she dropped by earlier that evening. Andrew was an all A student, and a popular baseball player. He was never in trouble so Joyce assumed it was going to be a pleasant visit. She was wrong.

“But…but that’s not fair!” Andrew shouted.

“Baby-”

“Mom, it’s not fair! I’ve never done anything bad at that school and they’re just going to expel me over one incident? No fucking way!” Andrew ranted.

“Watch your language, young man,” Joyce reproached firmly. “I’m not exactly thrilled about this either.”

“Well what are we going to do!?” Andrew asked hysterically.

Joyce gritted her teeth and took a deep breath, resisting the urge to shout back. “We’re going to deal with it.”

“I’m going to my room,” Andrew said sullenly as he stalked out of their small kitchen.

 

 

Andrew wanted to scream. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He hadn’t meant to yell at his mother like that and storm out of the kitchen. He really had wanted to talk to her about this. He wanted to know what she was thinking. Was she disappointed that he was gay? Was she hurt that he hadn’t told her? Was she angry with him for what had happened? What were they going to do now?

It wasn’t easy for Joyce; Andrew knew that. She had done a good job as a single parent. She always managed to keep food on the table and all their basic bills paid. As tight as money was she had even managed to get Andrew most of the things he ‘needed’ as a teenager. Things like an iPod, an X-box, a new cell phone – all the essentials of life. And now he had messed everything up and wrecked their lives.

As his tears finally stopped Andrew decided that he needed to apologize to his mother. Before he did though he also decided that it would be nice to hear a friendly voice. So, with that thought in mind Andrew called his best friend, Scott.

Andrew and Scott had been best friends since 5^th grade when Scott had transferred to Andrew’s school. They were now sophomores in high school and still just as close as they had been all those years ago.

“Hello,” came Scott’s hesitant voice.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Andrew said in as cheerful a voice as he could manage under the circumstances. After all this wasn’t Scott’s fault.

“Nothin’ much. Hey umm…I heard something in geometry today,” Scott said.

“You need some help? I think we’re covering the same stuff in first hour,” Andrew said deciding that helping Scott with his homework for awhile would take his mind off of his own problems, problems that couldn’t be solved with a protractor.

“That’s not what I meant,” Scott paused. “I heard Mr. Hicks uhh saw you in the bathroom…umm.”

“You heard about that?!” Andrew exclaimed, shocked that word had already spread.

“Is it true?” Scott asked.

“Scott, I-”

“Is it true, ANDREW,” Scott pressed adding emphasis to Andrew’s name.

Andrew swallowed hard, sighed, and then slowly answered. “Yes.”

Scott didn’t say anything and they were silent for several moments. At last Andrew couldn’t take it anymore. “Scott, listen I know I should have told you I was ga-”

“Don’t say it!” Scott interrupted.

“Don’t say it? Scott, I’m GAY!” Andrew stated firmly.

“I told you not to say it,” Scott muttered.

“Look man, listen-” Andrew started again.

“Don’t call me anymore,” Scott said quietly.

“What?!” Andrew asked stunned.

“I said don’t call, or talk to me, ANYMORE,” Scott said as he hung up.

Andrew was stunned. Shock washed over him followed by a powerful combination of anger and sadness.

Andrew wanted to scream. So he did just that as he angrily threw his cell phone into his dresser mirror, shattering the glass.

 

 

Joyce liked to paint. It relaxed her. If there was one thing Joyce needed in her life it was relaxation, and painting had consistently provided that source of relaxation for many years now. In fact it had gotten her through some of the most difficult phases of her life.

Joyce had met Andrew’s father, Doug, when they were about Andrew’s age. He was a very good-looking man, charming, and fun to be around. Joyce had known it was a mistake to drink as much as she had that night almost seventeen years ago when she had first gone out with Doug.

Joyce knew it was a mistake. She did it anyway. The next day she woke up in the backseat of his car with a headache and a whole lot of explaining to do with her mother, Evelyn. That explaining got even more difficult when she missed her period a few weeks later.

Joyce was nervous the night she told Doug. Nervous that he would hate her, nervous that he would ask her to marry him, nervous that he would break up with her. Instead, Joyce had broken up with him.

Doug had taken the news well. At least he had seemed too. Then he had started talking about how she could get an abortion done quietly. Joyce was shocked. An abortion had never entered her mind. Even at her young age Joyce had known that she would make a good mother and she knew that she could count on her family for support. When she told Doug that she wanted to keep the baby things quickly went down hill. Doug gave her an ultimatum: either she got an abortion or she got a new boyfriend.

Joyce got a new boyfriend. She also got a canvas, an easel, and some paint, and so began her hobby as an artist. Joyce was just putting the finishing touches on the bark of a very large oak tree when she heard an anguished scream and the crashing of glass coming from her son’s room.

Joyce liked to paint, but her son needed her.

 

 

“Are you okay?” Joyce asked as she rushed into Andrew’s room and spotted him picking up the broken glass.

“EOUGH,” Andrew exclaimed as he winced and another shard of glass cut into his hand.

“Andy, don’t touch that!” Joyce commanded as she crossed the room and gently pulled him away from the glass covered dresser.

His mom was the only one who ever called Andrew ‘Andy’ and, since she knew he didn’t like it, she only did it when she couldn’t stop herself.

“Here throw those away,” she said as she kept one arm around him and picked up the wastepaper basket so that he could empty his hands of the broken shards. Andrew was crying again now.

“I’m so sorry, mom. I guess I’m being a pretty big fuck up today, huh?” he said between sobs.

Joyce hated it when Andrew swore, but this time she ignored his choice of words. In fact she decided to respond in kind. “Look at me,” she demanded as she raised his chin with one hand and drew him closer with the other arm. “You are not a fuck up,” she said firmly.

Andrew looked at her and sniffled. “Really?”

“Really,” Joyce said as she hugged him. His bloody hands got on her clothes, but Joyce decided she didn’t care.

“Now let’s go get you cleaned up,” Joyce said as she led him down the narrow hallway and into the bathroom.

 

 

Andrew was grounded for a month. After Joyce got him, and his room, cleaned up they sat down and had a long talk. She made it clear to him that she was okay with him being gay and that she understood what it was like to be young and sexually curiously. She also got him to open up about what happened with Scott and some of the stress, fear, and uncertainty he was feeling about school.

The Joyce told him that though she loved him and she understood where he was coming from with his actions, giving oral sex in a bathroom, getting expelled from school, and destroying his phone and mirror weren’t without consequences. That’s when she grounded him.

Andrew had wanted to ask what getting expelled from school, losing your best friend, ruining your cell phone and mirror, and cutting up your hands were if they weren’t consequences. Andrew had wanted to ask, but instead he decided to shut up.

The next day Joyce announced that they would be moving. Her mother lived in a small town in Kentucky and owned a vacant house on the adjoining property. After Joyce explained their situation, Evelyn had suggested that she and Andrew move out of their small apartment in Ohio and come and live in that house, which she said was difficult to rent anyway. Evelyn also thought she could get Joyce a job as legal assistant – which was Joyce’s vocation – at the local attorney’s office.

With their plans made, and nothing left to tie them down in Ohio, Andrew and Joyce prepared to make a fresh start in Kentucky.

 

 

Lee didn’t like Evelyn. He was unable to figure out why, but she vaguely reminded him of his mother. He realized that she was now the landlady of his home and that made Lee hate Evelyn even more. As his rage increased Lee channeled some of it toward the stairs on which Evelyn was now making her descent from the upper level of the house.

Evelyn was nearly at the bottom of the stairs when a slipper suddenly appeared beside her and another materialized at the base of the stairwell. She was startled and nearly lost her footing, but she managed to hang onto the railing.

“Leave me alone, Audrey!” the old lady shouted at the ceiling.

Lee, who was standing behind her on the stairway, winced at the mention of his mother’s name. He wasn’t sure how Evelyn knew his mother, but it only served to enrage him further. With so much anger gripping him Lee could easily have summoned the power to push Evelyn down the stairs. Only her resemblance to his mother stopped him. Instead Lee took a deep breath and blew on the back of Evelyn’s head and neck.

“Ehhh,” Evelyn trembled as a cold wave of air engulfed her. She turned around, half-expecting to see her departed sister but found only empty space instead.

“You always were an icy bitch!” she snapped before walking the rest of the way down the stairs, stepping over the other slipper, and exiting the house.

 

 

Evelyn had inherited Lee and Audrey’s home, and the neighboring one in which she now resided, when her mother had passed away almost twenty years ago. At first Evelyn had done nothing with the properties, instead opting to remain in Ohio and rent them out. She found it odd, however, that while she had no trouble renting her own current home, each time she rented the one next door it quickly became vacant again – just as it had been when Evelyn had first inherited it.

The house had once belonged to Evelyn’s late sister and nephew, and Evelyn was well aware of the crimes her sister had perpetrated in that home. She had never met her nephew but the rumors of the small Kentucky town eventually made their way to the ears of her mother, Margaret, who reported that the boy was a queer. From then on, Margaret had always said that a queer son served Audrey right for being such a tramp. Margaret would frequently rant that it was no wonder that Audrey’s sin, and the sin of her son, had led her to the gruesome murder-suicide she had committed.

Evelyn had always thought her mother’s religious ravings were all a bunch of nonsense. However, Evelyn remembered her sister, whom she had never gotten along with, and though she was young when Audrey had moved away Evelyn wasn’t particularly surprised that her sister had eventually gone over the edge.

What Margaret had never told Evelyn was that Audrey’s house was haunted. No, Evelyn hadn’t learned of this small detail until many years later after her husband had passed away and she had decided to move to Kentucky herself. Once she arrived Evelyn soon heard the local ghost stories involving her family.

In the years since her arrival Evelyn had experienced a few other, minor, incidents similar to the one which she had just encountered with the slippers. Evelyn though was not a lady who was easily shaken and she decided that her sister’s ghost could just get over it and leave them all alone. With that resolution in mind Evelyn elected not to mention any of the ghost stories to Joyce or Andrew. No reason to worry them.

 

 

“Honey! How are you?” Evelyn exclaimed as she walked down her driveway and hugged her daughter.

“I’m good, mom. How are you? Have you been taking your medicine?” Joyce inquired as she returned the hug and tried to hide her surprise at how much her mother had seemed to age in the last few years.

“Oh of course I have,” Evelyn responded dismissively as she broke the hug and caught sight of her grandson. “Well I declare! Andrew, you’re practically a grown man!”

“Hi, grandma,” Andrew said as he let himself be pulled into her embrace and blushed when she kissed his cheek.

“So I hear you like boys,” Evelyn said casually as though she were remarking on the weather.

Andrew coughed and stared at the suitcase in his hand. “Uh, yeah,” he said quietly.

“Well good for you, sweetie. Back in my day there was no such thing as queers, but now everyone is so delightfully open to possibilities! I hear that, that Ellen DeGeneres is a lesbian,” Evelyn said as she leaned close and whispered the gossip to Andrew.

Andrew giggled. “That’s what I hear too, grandma.”

Joyce caught Andrew’s eye and shook her head slightly. The two communicated well and Andrew knew that she wasn’t happy that he was patronizing the old lady.

“When does your furniture arrive, Joyce?” Evelyn asked as she began leading them toward the house.

“It should be here Thursday. We don’t have that much anyway.” Joyce responded.

“Well that’s okay. The house is mostly furnished anyway. Come in and let’s have some coffee. I’ll take you out there once we’ve had a chance to catch up.” Evelyn said as she put an arm around her daughter and grandson and led them inside.

“Andrew, do you drink coffee, dear?” Evelyn asked.

“No,” Andrew responded. “Ma’am,” he quickly added as he caught another look from Joyce.

“Well I think I have some soda pop,” Evelyn said.

“That’ll be great, thanks grandma,” Andrew said.

Once they were settled in with their beverages Evelyn continued.

“Joyce, I’ve already got Andrew registered for school. They’re expecting him tomorrow. You just need to go in and sign some papers,” Evelyn said as she stirred her coffee.

“Thanks, mom” Joyce answered, pleased that Evelyn had taken care of most of the preliminary steps.

“You can also meet with Mr. Ford tomorrow afternoon at one, or was it two? I can’t remember, but I’ll call him tomorrow morning and let you know. You’ll like Mr. Ford; he has the prettiest blue eyes.”

Joyce didn’t think that was a particularly important trait for an attorney, but she smiled and nodded as she sipped her coffee.

After they’d finished their refreshments Joyce took them over to the nearby house, gave them a tour, and instructed them to call if they needed anything.

 

 

Lee was startled. The new boy was the spitting image of himself, while the woman, whom he heard Evelyn call Joyce, bore a similar resemblance to his mother. Indeed, given Joyce’s close proximity to Audrey’s age, Joyce could easily have been mistaken for Audrey’s twin sister. To add to his confusion, Lee was fairly certain that Joyce and the new boy were also related to Evelyn. That fact made Lee hate them all the more; however, it also made him curious.

Lee spent the first couple of hours just watching them as they went about unpacking their things in his home. His jealousy and anger toward these actions was sufficient to enable him free movement throughout the house, but his curiosity and slight confusion over their appearances prevented any single emotion from taking a significantly strong hold over him. As such, all he could for now was watch.

Lee watched with fascination when the boy, whom he had learned was called Andrew, quietly shut his bedroom door and began to undress. The act of someone undressing didn’t surprise Lee. Over the years he’d seen many tenants undress in his home. The first few times he had seen someone undress in his home Lee had been embarrassed; he’d even felt guilty. Over the years though, he had ceased to be surprised by their nudity. No, the nudity didn’t surprise Lee at all.

Lee wasn’t even particularly surprised when Andrew had taken a magazine out from the bottom of his suitcase and begun masturbating to the images. Under any other circumstances Lee probably would have enjoyed show. Andrew was a very good-looking guy and while Lee wasn’t a queer he didn’t see any disparity in enjoying the intimate moments of his male intruders. Yes, Lee was certain that he would have enjoyed watching Andrew if the boy hadn’t born such a strong resemblance to himself. As it was he felt as though he were watching himself masturbate, an activity in which he could no longer partake.

So while Lee found some of this a bit confusing his curiosity was piqued and he flitted toward Andrew to investigate what the boy found so erotic. As he caught sight of the images, naked men, Lee was startled; Andrew was a queer.

 

 

Andrew was gay. On some level Joyce had always known. He wasn’t exactly obvious, but no one knew him as well as Joyce did, and a mother always knows.

Indeed, as Joyce hung up her blouses she concluded that she had always known. She hadn’t admitted it. She hadn’t faced it. She hadn’t even helped him deal with it, but she had known.

Joyce felt guilty as she began to arrange her clothes by color. She should have helped him get through it. She probably should have told him. Instead she had buried her head in the sand and pretended it didn’t exist. Instead of talking to Andrew about it she had to hear it from his principal, former principal, Mrs. Woods.

Was Joyce to blame for Andrew’s actions? She didn’t buy into believing that she had caused his homosexuality, but she wondered if, by her inaction, she had caused her son to repress his sexuality. To hide it and deny it until the pressure became overwhelming and he found himself in a public restroom looking for some release.

Oh well, it could be worse Joyce pondered. He could be a U.S. senator.

Joyce laughed quietly to herself as she slid her now empty suitcase under the bed then started laying out her painting supplies.

Yes, Andrew had messed up, but so had she. It was all water under the bridge now though. Andrew was a good student and an out-going boy; he would do fine at his new school. Joyce would probably be able to get the position as Mr. Ford’s assistant, and she was also pleased to be living near her mother again. Joyce worried about Evelyn and it was nice to be near her.

Yes, Joyce would focus on rebuilding their lives, and this time she would support her son properly and make sure that he knew he could trust her. Andrew was gay and Joyce loved him.

 

 

Lee felt an odd mixture of horror and sympathy. Andrew was a queer! Everyone was going to hate him. Lee already hated him. Yet, he also felt that strange twinge of sympathy. It made him weak; he felt much of his power dissipating. Sympathy was an emotion he hadn’t experienced in several decades.

Nevertheless, as he floated near his bed, watching Andrew lay on it and jerk-off, he couldn’t help but wonder if Andrew would be murdered for being a queer. Lee had been murdered and unlike Andrew he wasn’t even a faggot.

Yes, someone would probably kill Andrew. Perhaps it would even happen while Andrew lived in this house. Maybe in a few months - if Lee tolerated Andrew and Joyce’s presence long enough for it to happen – someone would kill Andrew and he would share Lee’s afterlife.

Did Lee want that? A companion? Another guy to talk to? To share his existence with?

No, Lee most definitely did not want that. Andrew was a revolting faggot and as Lee looked at him – and couldn’t help but notice their similarity – Lee resolved to get the goddamn queer out of his house as quickly as possible.

The hatred made Lee feel strong. He could do this. He could rid his home of this abomination, and Lee decided that now was the perfect time to start.

Lee had decided that. Then Lee saw his mother, no Joyce, walking through the hallway toward his bedroom. She would catch Andrew. She would yell at him and tell him that he was going to go to hell. As he saw the events unfolding Lee felt an odd mixture of horror and sympathy.

 

 

Andrew felt a wave of relief wash over him. The pleasure was soon turned to shock, embarrassment, and fear as he heard a knocking on his bedroom door.

“Honey, can I come in?” Joyce asked through the door.

“NO!” Andrew shouted as his voice cracked and he jumped off the bed, desperate to get into his clothes.

At first Joyce was offended, she’d only come to tell him goodnight. Then as realization struck she realized that she might have been intruding on something neither of them wanted her to intrude upon.

“Well, I just wanted to say goodnight. I love you. I’ll see you in the morning before school.”

Joyce had just turned to walk away when she heard the door open and turned to see a flushed, disheveled looking Andrew standing in the doorway.

“I love you too, mom,” he said as he gave her a quick hug then stepped back into his room and closed the door.

Andrew felt a wave of relief wash over him; his mom hadn’t had any idea what he was doing.

 

 

Lee wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t believe how stupid the woman was. His mother would have realized what was going on. She would have caught him. Andrew’s mother was naïve, and Andrew himself was a stupid queer. Lee wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew he had to start somewhere.

 

 

Andrew was alarmed to see the baseball bat. Yet there it was, leaning against the wall near his closet.

At first Andrew didn’t think anything of it when he noticed it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He thought the bat must have been his own. It looked very similar to the one Andrew used during baseball season and for batting practice.

Andrew had just finished undressing, again, when he realized that his own bat was still somewhere in transit between Ohio and Kentucky along with the majority of his and Joyce’s belongings.

Where had this bat come from? Andrew was certain it wasn’t there while he was unpacking his suitcase.

Andrew walked across the room and picked it up. It felt cold, deathly cold. In fact it felt so cold that as soon as he touched it, Andrew immediately dropped it and wiped his hands vigorously on his bare thighs to warm them up.

How had he failed to notice this bat before? Why was it so cold?

Andrew had no answers to these questions but he knew he didn’t like this bat. He leaned over and grabbed his discarded shirt from the floor, then balling it up Andrew used it to shove the bat into the closet and closed the door. Even through the barrier that his shirt provided, Andrew still felt a cold chill pass through him as he moved the bat.

When he was done, Andrew decided that a nice warm shower would make him feel better. So, he grabbed the robe he’d left on his bed and slipped it on, and then he made his way toward the bathroom.

As he relaxed under the warm stream of water emanating from the showerhead Andrew quickly forgot about the strange bat in his closet. Instead he began to wonder about school.

Andrew was nervous. He didn’t feel ready to go back to school yet. Granted, it wasn’t the same school where his name was now almost certainly a punch line, but he was nervous nevertheless.

Would the new kids like him? Would they know he was gay? Would there even be any other gay kids at the school?

At his old school in Ohio there had been a few openly gay students and several others that everyone speculated about. They weren’t exactly popular with the majority of the school body, but for the most part people at least left them alone, and they had their own little groups of friends. Kentucky on the other hand…well Andrew wasn’t so sure. He had heard things about the south not being an accepting place. It was bad enough being the ‘new kid’ at school. Andrew really didn’t want to be the ‘new gay kid’ at school. Andrew was nervous.

He tried to relax as he shook the water out of his hair and turned off the shower. He didn’t have anything to worry about. He wasn’t obvious. As long as he didn’t go around sucking guys off in the bathroom – an activity which he had no intention of repeating – no one would ever even know the difference. He could deal with this, Andrew decided as he pulled the shower curtain open.

Andrew was alarmed to see the baseball bat hurtling toward his head.

 

 

Andrew felt cold. He was also in a lot of pain. As he slowly open his eyes Andrew felt scared and confused. Where was he? Why was it so cold? Why did his body, especially his head, hurt so much?

Andrew quickly jerked his body into an upright sitting position as he became aware that he was in an old-fashioned bathtub. A shower. Andrew had been taking a shower. This was his new bathroom.

What had happened?

Andrew’s head hurt even more as he tried to piece everything back together. A baseball bat. There was a baseball bat and Andrew remembered seeing it coming toward him. Wait! A baseball bat, there was a baseball bat in his bedroom. But hadn’t he put it in the closet? Was it still there? What had happened?

Andrew just couldn’t remember, but he knew that sitting in that tub wasn’t going to help him figure it out. As he stood up he became aware that his whole body was already beginning to feel sore.

That was reasonable he concluded after a moment’s thought. The old tub was iron and if Andrew had fallen in it, it probably would have hurt a great deal. Was he really struck with a bat? Had he just fallen instead? Certainly that made more sense. Who could have hit him? His mother was the only other person in the house.

Andrew slowly dried off his cold, damp body and winced as he tried to maneuver his arms enough to slip into his bathrobe. He felt really sore.

Andrew had his hand on the knob of the bathroom door when a thought occurred to him. He opened the small medicine cabinet over the sink and was pleased to discover that sure enough his mother had already stocked it. He found the Tylenol and took the recommended dose, plus one – he was in quite a great deal of pain after all – then he turned on the faucet and cupped his hands so that he could wash the pills down with a little water. He prayed that the medicine would kick in soon, then he turned to open the bathroom door.

Andrew felt cold as he saw the bat again.

Andrew had just opened his closet door to discover the bat lying there right where he had left it. He must have imagined it then. He must have slipped as he was getting out of the shower, hit his head, and imagined the whole damn thing.

It seemed strange, but it made more sense than any alternatives Andrew could come up with. Andrew shut his door and painfully walked toward his bed.

Maybe he’d feel better in the morning.

Andrew did not feel better the next morning. In fact he felt much worse. His whole body was covered in bruises and as he examined his face in the room’s dresser mirror Andrew was alarmed to see that he already had a very large knot on the side of his head.

Wasn’t this turning out to be a wonderful day? He got to go to his first day of school feeling and looking like shit. Plus he still had to explain to his mother what had happened.

No sense in putting it off any longer Andrew decided as he crossed the room to pick out what he was going to be wearing for the day. When Andrew opened his closet door, he was surprised to discover that the mystery bat was no where to be seen. What the hell was going on?

 

 

Lee felt content. He had already succeeded in both causing Andrew a great deal of pain and freaking him out. It would only be a matter of time until the perverted boy and his moronic mother were out of Lee’s home.

Unfortunately Lee felt so content from his handiwork of the night before that he barely had the strength to move. It was only by recalling the hate in the voices of his killers that Lee mustered the power to flit down to the kitchen to watch Joyce’s reaction to seeing her son. Lee felt content indeed.

 

 

Joyce couldn’t believe her eyes. She didn’t want to believe them. The night before her baby had been perfectly safe and healthy looking, the only injuries on his body being the superficial cuts on his hands from last week’s incident with the broken mirror, and now…

Now he looked like he’d been jumped and beaten.

“Andy! What happened?” Joyce shrieked as she ran over to him and pulled him into a tight hug.

That wasn’t a very good idea given his state and Joyce soon realized that when he winced and stiffened.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she released him and Andrew caught sight of the anguish that still remained on her face. “What happened?”

“I fell down in the shower last night,” Andrew shrugged simply.

“What?” Joyce asked.

“I fell down. I slipped. That tub is really hard,” Andrew answered trying to sound casual and fighting the urge to snap at his mother to just leave him alone about it. He felt bad enough without her making a fuss over it.

“But your head…”

“I hit it okay,” Andrew said defensively barely keeping his mood in check.

Joyce noticed the tension in his voice and realized that he must be in a great deal of pain, so she decided to drop the questioning and focus on the recovery.

“I’ll call grandma and find out where the doctor’s office is,” she said as she picked up her cell phone from the counter.

“I don’t need to go to a doctor. Besides, it’s my first day of school today. I don’t want to be late,” Andrew responded irritably. He’d be damned if he was going to let her drag him to some doctor so that he could show up in bandages as well.

“Andrew, you’re going to the doctor and that’s all there is to it. Now go and fix yourself a plate and eat your breakfast,” Joyce commanded.

“Mommmm,” Andrew whined.

Joyce didn’t reply. Instead she only gave him a firm set of eyes then looked expectantly to where the plates were stacked near the stove. Andrew decided that he was indeed damned as he gave her an angry look and then crossed the kitchen to pick up a plate.

“Mom, Andrew had an accident,” Joyce said as Evelyn answered the phone.

“What happened?” Evelyn asked.

“He slipped in the shower,” Joyce answered.

“Oh thank God. I thought he was pregnant,”

“What?!?”

“Well you had that type of accident when you were his age, dear.”

“Mom, that isn’t funny,” Joyce all but growled.

“Is he okay?”

“I think so, but he needs to go to the doctor. Where can I take him?”

Evelyn informed Joyce that she would need to take Andrew to Dr. Grayson and after she’d given Joyce the directions and the phone number Evelyn instructed her to call and let her know what the doctor said. Evelyn also confirmed that her job interview with Mr. Ford was at one and not two.

As soon as Joyce hung up with her mother she called and made an appointment to see Dr. Grayson. After explaining what had happened she was relieved when the receptionist informed her that they could work Andrew in as soon as they arrived. Next Joyce called Andrew’s new school to let them know what had happened and that he probably wouldn’t be able to start that day after all. By the time Joyce was finished with her phone calls, had located her insurance information, and cleaned up the kitchen, Andrew was ready to go, but still sulking.

They rode to the doctor’s office in silence with Andrew not so much as sparing his mother a look. For her part, Joyce couldn’t help but to glance at him every few minutes and each time she did she became even more upset by his injuries.

Fortunately, Dr. Grayson was able to see Andrew right away and apart from giving them a funny look when they mentioned where they lived, the visit went pretty much as expected. Dr. Grayson informed them that Andrew had indeed suffered a concussion and that he had behaved very dangerously by going straight to sleep after the accident. Dr. Grayson then wrote Andrew a prescription for painkillers and sent them on their way.

“Can you just drop me off at school? I don’t want to be any later,” Andrew said coldly.

“Honey, I already let the school know that you wouldn’t be able to make it today,” Joyce answered in a soothing voice.

“You what?! Mom, I want to go get this over with.”

“Get it over with? Andrew you still have the majority of the year left.”

“I know that,” Andrew said between clinched teeth, “but I want to get the first day out of the way.”

“But, honey-” Joyce started.

“I’m nervous, okay!?” Andrew barked as he folded his arms and stared out of the window.

Joyce pulled over into one of the parking lots which they were passing and turned off the car. She gave Andrew a couple of moments to calm down before she tentatively started rubbing his back and shoulder.

When Andrew finally looked at her he had tears in his eyes. “I’m scared, mom,” he croaked.

“I know you are, sweetie,” Joyce answered as she pulled him into a hug. “I am too, but we’re going to be okay.”

“Andrew,” Joyce said as they broke the hug. “Why didn’t you tell me what happened last night?”

Andrew shrugged. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“What?” Joyce asked, surprised at the answer.

“Well, I didn’t want to wake you up and make you worry,” he said.

“Darling, you had a concussion. You needed to go to the hospital. Trust me, I’d have much rather you woken me up,” Joyce said.

“Sorry,” Andrew said quietly as he looked away again.

“Come and get me the next time, okay baby?”

“I wasn’t really planning on doing it again,” Andrew said with a smirk.

Joyce laughed and started the car.

“Hey mom,” Andrew said. “Can I go to school today? I really did want to get today out of the way.”

Joyce considered it for a moment. “Well, if you really want to,” she answered.

The rest of Joyce’s day went pretty well. After she’d finished officially getting Andrew enrolled in his new school she found the local grocery store and picked up most of the necessities they would need for their new home. Evelyn had stopped by their place the day before they had arrived to stock their refrigerator and pantry with some ‘basic staples’ as she put it, but there was still much left to get.

By the time Joyce had finished her shopping and taken everything home and put it away, it was time for her appointment with Mr. Ford. The interview went well; in fact she was hired on the spot and told that she could start the next day. After she thanked him and walked out of the office Joyce found her stomach knotting in anticipation.

Joyce realized that this was probably very similar to the way Andrew had been feeling all morning and she realized with sympathy why he had been so eager to get his first day over with; if Mr. Ford had asked her, Joyce would have happily stayed the rest of the afternoon just so that she could have started to feel a little more comfortable at her new job.

When she got home Joyce decided that there was still much cleaning up to do so she spent the next hour fixing the place up then decided to stop and bake Andrew some cookies. She knew it was very ‘Mrs. Cleaver’, but she wanted to do something nice for him on his first day.

As she removed the cookies from the oven she glanced through the window. Joyce couldn’t believe her eyes; Andrew was walking up the pathway with another boy and the two were clearly having a good time laughing and talking.

 

 

Lee felt disgust and shame when he saw David Goldberg walking toward his house with the queer. In fact the unpleasant surprise completely annihilated the sense of contentment which he had been feeling all day.

It was only after these initial feelings began to wear off that Lee realized that this boy couldn’t possibly be David Goldberg. David would have been approaching sixty by now and this boy was clearly around the same age as Andrew. No, this boy couldn’t be David Goldberg.

However, Lee’s relief over that realization was short-lived. Lee couldn’t help but to be reminded of himself and David when he looked at Andrew and this new boy. As he noticed the way they were looking at each other Lee felt more disgust and shame.

 

 

“This is David,” Andrew said as he smiled between his mother and his new friend.

“Hi, David, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Joyce,” Joyce said warmly as she shook David’s hand.

“It’s good to meet you too, Miss Joyce,” David said politely.

“We met today at school. David showed me around. We have six out of eight of the same classes!” Andrew enthused.

“Yeah, looks like we’re going to get to know each other real well,” David said, then blushed as he thought of the extra layer of meaning to which he wanted to take that sentence.

Andrew blushed too when he saw David’s blush. The two had been flirting all day and had already all but come out to each other. Andrew felt like he was the happiest he had ever been.

“Would you guys like some cookies?” Joyce asked as she nodded toward the top of the stove where the cookies were cooling.

“Yeah, mom. Thanks,” Andrew said as he walked over and helped himself to a couple of the still gooey treats. “Ya, want some, David?”

David blushed again as he couldn’t help but imagine the double entendre in Andrew’s words. Being sixteen wasn’t easy.

“I’d love some, Andrew,” he said flirtatiously forgetting about Joyce.

“Ahem,” Joyce interrupted them with a cough. “Have you lived here all your life, David?”

“Yes ma’am,” David said, “and I’ve always been real curious about this place too,” David continued as he looked around inquisitively.

“What do you mean?” Andrew asked before his mother got the chance.

“Oh nothin’,” David answered not wanting to seem impolite or offend Andrew and his mother. “I’ve just always wondered what the inside of this house looked like.”

“But why?” Andrew pressed.

“No reason,” David said evasively. Then, spurred on by a strange combination of desire to change the subject, desire to further satisfy his curiosity, and just plain desire he continued. “Hey Andrew, can I see your room?”

Andrew briefly glanced at his mother, who simply gave him a small nod, for confirmation. “Sure, come on.”

“Wow!” David said as soon as they had walked into Andrew’s new bedroom.

“What?”

“I just can’t believe I’m here,” David said as he strolled toward the bedroom window and lightly touched the glass.

“Uhh, okay, man,” Andrew said as he began to consider for the first time that David might be a little weird.

“Right down there,” David muttered quietly to himself as he looked down over the front lawn where only minutes earlier he and Andrew had been.

“What’s right down there?” Andrew inquired.

“Oh nothin’,” David said.

“David, you’re really weirding me out, man,” Andrew said as he took a step back.

“I’m sorry,” David said quickly as he spun around and faced Andrew. “Weirding you out was the last thing I wanted to do with you.”

Andrew swallowed nervously and took another small step back, still unsure of what to make of David’s behavior.

“I like you a lot, Andrew. I think we’re going to be really good friends,” David said smiling and putting emphasis on ‘really good friends’.

“I hope so, I’d really like that,” Andrew said as he maintained eye contact with David and began to move a little closer.

”I’ve always wanted a ‘special friend’,” David said with a nervous laugh as he continued to close the distance between himself and Andrew.

Andrew’s lips felt dry and he licked them and sighed before saying, “I can’t believe you’ve never had a ‘special friend’.”

“It’s real tough finding the right guy to be ‘friends with’ around here, Andrew.”

By now the two teens were only inches apart and each was convinced that surely the other could hear his heartbeat. David tentatively put his hand on Andrew’s upper arm and leaned up slightly – Andrew was the taller of the two – slowly moving his mouth toward Andrew’s.

Their lips never quite made contact though as the sound of breaking glass interrupted the moment.

David spun around to find that the window which he had been standing near was now shattered and a rock lay only inches from his feet.

“Oh my God!” David exclaimed as he backed up and collided with Andrew.

Without thinking Andrew put his arms around David and pulled him further away from the shattered window.

Once their nerves had settled a bit Andrew released David and cautiously leaned over to examine the rock.

“Are you okay?” Joyce asked as she rushed into Andrew’s room to find a still shaken David and her son leaning over a pile of broken glass.

“EOUGH,” Andrew exclaimed as he winced and an unnoticed shard of glass cut into his hand when he attempted to remove the rock from the rubble.

“Andy, don’t touch that!” Joyce commanded as she crossed the room and gently pulled him away from the glass covered floor.

Joyce examined his hand and saw that it was bleeding slightly, but wasn’t badly cut.

“What happened?” she asked the boys.

David didn’t say anything. He just stood there with a scared look on his face and trembled slightly.

“Somebody musta thrown a rock through the window,” Andrew said as he pulled away from his mother and looked through the shattered pane.

“Andrew, step back!” Joyce insisted. “If they’re still there they could hit you!”

Andrew shrugged. “Nobody’s out there.”

“I…I uhh..I rrrealy oughta gget going,” David stuttered out with difficulty as he back toward the door.

“David wait! Please!” Andrew shouted as David turned and ran from the room.

Andrew gave his mother a desperate look as the two started to follow the frightened teen. They had just stepped into the hallway when they heard David’s scream followed by a heavy thud.

“David!” Andrew shrieked as he reached the top of the stairs and looked down to find his friend crumpled in a ball at the bottom.

Andrew hurried down the stairs followed closely by Joyce and soon the two were by David’s side.

David tried to get up but Joyce put a firm hand on his shoulder stopping him. “Hold still, we need to make sure nothing is broken.”

“I’m okay,” David panted trying to catch his breath and calm himself. “I just tripped over the slippers.”

Joyce ignored him as she continued checking him for wounds. Andrew on the other hand found that to be an odd statement.

“What slippers?” he asked.

David pointed toward the stairs. Andrew and Joyce both turned to look, but found nothing.

“Sweetie, there’s nothing there,” Joyce said soothingly as she decided it was okay for David to stand and gently helped him to his feet.

“But they were right there! I tripped over them,” David said frantically as he pushed past Andrew and pointed at one of the lower steps. “There was one right there and another one right here at the bottom.”

Andrew gently put his hand on David’s shoulder. “You must have just lost your balance. You were pretty shaken up and you were running really fast.”

“I’m not crazy! It’s this house! It’s…” David tailed off.

“It’s what?” Joyce asked gently.

“It’s nothin’,” David said dejectedly.

“But David-” Andrew started.

David cut him off. “I really gotta get going. Listen Andrew, why don’t you come over sometime. Uh, anytime you need to actually. You too Miss Joyce.”

“David wait, let me give you a ride,” Joyce said as David opened the front door.

“It’s cool, thanks anyway,” David said as he hurried through the door and off the front porch. He then broke into a jog as he took off down the pathway that led away from the house.

Andrew let out a frustrated sigh and stalked off toward the kitchen.

“Honey, we need to bandage your hand,” Joyce said as she followed him.

“It’s fine, mom. It’s already stopped bleeding. I’ll go wash it and put some antibiotic on it,” Andrew said as grabbed a cookie and then brushed past his mom. He was in no mood to talk and decide to just placate her.

Joyce let out an exasperated sigh and wondered what else could possibly happen to her son.

 

 

The anger still coursed through every part of Lee’s being. Those faggots were going to make out in his room. Lee couldn’t believe it; he couldn’t believe the gall they had. In all his years on Earth Lee had never seen two guys kissing before and the fact that as he watched it had felt like David Goldberg were trying to kiss him had just been too much for Lee to bear.

Lee usually kept to himself on the rare occasions when his intruders had company, but seeing David Goldberg, or whoever this other David was, was simply going too far. The real David Goldberg had never even dared to set foot in his home. Audrey wouldn’t have allowed it. She would have told him he needed to find Christ and sent him on his way. If she had even suspected that he was trying to corrupt her son she would have called the police and told the whole town. This stupid bitch completely ignored the queers’ obviously perverse intentions with each other.

Lee didn’t regret making David fall down the stairs. Lee never regretted his actions, but this time he felt particularly justified. He’d be damned if he were going to allow some queer to kiss him – or rather to kiss Andrew in front of him.

As far as Andrew was concerned Lee decided that he’d been too gentle with the disgusting boy. The anger still coursed through every part of Lee’s being and Andrew was going to have to pay.

 

 

The water was warm to Andrew’s touch. He was in their small bathroom standing at the sink washing his hand. He was surprised when he found small fragments of glass still clinging to the fresh cut. Once he had finished washing out his wound he looked in the mirror. Andrew gasped when he saw the reflection.

The knot on his head was still swollen, he had light bruises all over his face and arms, and his eyes had puffy bags beneath them. Andrew decided that he looked like hell and he was surprised David could even stand to look at him, much less appear to be interested in him.

Andrew turned around so that he could examine his bare torso in the mirror. His neck and shoulders were still very sore and it hurt for him to turn his head far enough around to see his reflection. When he finally did catch a glimpse of it, it hurt for other reasons entirely. Dark bruises were covering the majority his fair skin.

Andrew quickly decided that it would be better for him to wear a shirt as much as possible for the next few days and he wasted no time in slipping his tee back over his head.

Next Andrew decided to wash his face. The water was warm as it splashed over his skin and he gently rubbed his eyes, wishing that he could wash away the bags around them. With eyes still shut he grabbed the nearby washcloth and began drying his face. At last he opened his eyes and looked in the mirror. Andrew gasped when he saw the reflection.

His face wasn’t clean at all. Instead it was deathly pale and covered in a disgusting, yellowish green goo.

Suddenly the putrid aroma of rotten eggs assaulted Andrew’s senses and he gagged as he threw up repeatedly into the sink.

Andrew’s chest and throat burned and as he looked at the contents of the sink Andrew decided that he never wanted to eat another cookie again.

When Andrew finally had the nerve to look back into the mirror he was surprised, but relieved to see that the deathly pale looking complexion from moments before had been replaced by a deep red, over-exerted appearance, which, under the circumstances, was to be expected. Most mercifully though, the yellowish green goo was gone and his skin was clean except for a small amount of vomit around his mouth and nose.

Andrew quickly cleaned himself up again, brushed his teeth, and did his best to wash out the sink. Once he was finished he staggered backward and collapsed onto the side of the tub trying to reign in his thoughts and emotions.

What the hell was going on? Where had that goo come from? Where had it gone?

Andrew lightly touched his cheeks and nose, afraid that he would feel the sticky substance, but was pleased to note only traces of the warm water with which he had just washed.

When at last he was ready to leave the lavatory, Andrew decided that he needed to talk to his mother. He found Joyce in her bedroom working on a painting of a very large oak tree overlooking a peaceful lake.

“Mom,” Andrew said in a hoarse voice.

Joyce turned and noticed her son in the doorway. “Hey sweetie, did you get cleaned up?”

“Yeah,” he said softly.

“Andrew what is it?” Joyce asked nervously, alarmed at how softly and sadly Andrew was speaking. It was then that she noticed his face seemed red and that he looked exhausted.

“I threw up,” Andrew said simply.

“Oh honey, do you feel nauseous?” Joyce asked sympathetically as she set her palate on a nearby table and crossed the room to feel Andrew’s forehead.

“Not anymore,” Andrew responded.

“Are you upset about what happened with David and the window?” Joyce asked.

“I guess maybe that was it,” Andrew answered thoughtfully, trying to convince himself as much as his mother.

“It’s okay, honey, I got the mess cleaned up and David said you could come over anytime you wanted,” Joyce said, doing her best to soothe her son.

“I know,” Andrew said quietly.

“I also called the police,” Joyce continued. “When I told them our address they said it was outside of their jurisdiction.”

Andrew looked up and took in the frustrated expression on his mother’s face.

“I don’t know what exactly that’s supposed to mean. They’re the only police department in the area. Anyway, they said it must have been a kid playing a prank. They suggested that we just tape the window shut – which I’ve already done – and have it fixed tomorrow,” Joyce said obviously annoyed and unsure.

“Oh,” was all Andrew said as he turned and started to walk from the room.

“Where are you going?” Joyce asked.

“I just need to take a nap, mom. Wake me for dinner, ok?” Andrew said.

“Are you sure you want to sleep in there, honey?” Joyce asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Andrew said as he left.

Andrew’s peaceful slumber was disturbed by the aroma of freshly roasted potatoes.

“Mmmm,” Andrew sighed as he sat up in bed and stretched.

Still clumsy with sleep, Andrew got out of bed and stumbled downstairs.

When Andrew entered the kitchen he found a casserole dish filled with potatoes sitting on the middle of their kitchen table. He was surprised to find that, far from being set and neatly arranged, the dishes were piled up in a heap.

“Mom, MOM?” Andrew called.

Just then Andrew heard the sounds of a crying woman coming from upstairs.

“Mom!” Andrew shouted as fear started to grip him.

“MOM!” Andrew screamed again as he ran back upstairs.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Andrew saw that his mother’s door was standing ajar and the sounds of her sobs were permeating the hallway.

“Mom, are you okay?” Andrew asked in as calm a voice as he could manage as he entered her room.

Joyce was facing away from the door, kneeling beside her bed, and weeping loudly.

Andrew started to go to her, but paused as a chill passed down his spine and he noticed the blood covering her clothing. Andrew gasped and fought back his tears as he willed himself to walk toward her.

“Mom, what happened?” Andrew asked softly as he slowly reached out his hand to touch her back.

Just as Andrew’s fingers were about to make contact with the back of her bloodstained blouse, Joyce whirled around to face him.

“Aahh!” Andrew screamed when he saw Joyce’s wild eyed expression. She was covered in blood and she had an oozing gash running along the length of her right cheek. She was also holding a bloody knife in one hand and a bottle in the other.

“My only son is a faggot!” Joyce wailed in an anguished voice. Then Joyce downed several gulps from the bottle, placed it on the nightstand, gripped the knife tightly and without as much as a pause she slashed both her wrists hard and deep.

“Oh my God, mom!” Andrew screamed as Joyce lunged at him. Andrew toppled over backwards and, as he lost his footing, his head slammed into his mother’s dresser.

“My son’s a QUEER,” Joyce slurred acerbically as she slowly slumped down on top of Andrew and quit moving.

His mother’s blood was warm to Andrew’s touch as he fumbled with her lifeless body.

 

 

Andrew screamed and sat up in bed. He was covered in a cold sweat and tears were streaming down his face.

“Andy, what’s wrong?” Joyce exclaimed as she rushed into the room. Andrew screamed when he saw her and inched backward in his bed, pulling the blankets around himself and covering his face.

“Baby, are you okay?” Joyce asked tenderly as she crossed the room and sat on the edge of his bed.

“Mom?” came Andrew’s weak, muffled voice from beneath the blankets.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m right here,” she said as she put her arms around him and pulled him into her chest.

At last Andrew hesitantly pulled the blanket away from his face and looked at her. When Andrew saw that his mother looked normal, a wave of relief washed over him and he grabbed her and started crying.

“Sshhh, it’s okay, baby, it was just a bad dream,” Joyce whispered as she rubbed his back.

“Mom?” Andrew asked meekly.

“Yeah Andrew?” Joyce responded.

“Do you hate me because I’m gay?” he asked in a feeble voice.

“Lord no!” Joyce exclaimed, surprised by the question as she pulled him into a tighter embrace. “Whatever made you even think you needed to ask such a question?”

“It…uhh seemed like you did in my dream,” Andrew said quietly.

“Well that was just a nightmare, honey. I could never hate you,” Joyce said as she brushed the hair away from his eyes and kissed his forehead.

“Thanks, mom,” Andrew said as he sniffled one last time and cleared his throat.

“I love you, Andrew.”

“I love you too, mom.”

“Now why don’t you get up and wash your face and brush your teeth. Dinner’s almost ready,” Joyce said as she stood up.

“OK,” Andrew said as he climbed out of bed. “What are we having?”

“Pot roast and potatoes,” Joyce answered as she walked from the room.

 

 

Lee felt more dissipated than he had ever felt before. As he lingered in the bed he tried to gather his thoughts. Lee tried to focus on a single emotion, any emotion. Unfortunately for the first time since his death he only felt himself surrounded by positive emotions.

Lee felt a vague feeling of admiration for Joyce. Lee knew Joyce’s reaction to Andrew’s words was ridiculous and worse, immoral, but he couldn’t quite shake the slight feeling of admiration.

Lee felt a vague feeling of trust. Andrew had felt comfortable talking to his mother about his fears. Andrew had been stupid. Joyce should have reproached him, ridiculed him, made him feel worthless. But she hadn’t, and Andrew had trusted her.

Lee felt a vague feeling of security. Andrew was in danger – Andrew was still in danger – yet his mother’s words had comforted him. Again, he was behaving foolishly. If he only knew what Lee had planned for him security would be the last thing Andrew felt.

Lee felt a vague feeling of…of love. A different type of love than Lee was familiar with. Audrey had loved Lee. Audrey had told Lee that she loved him. Yet Lee had to continually prove himself. Lee had to be a star athlete. Lee had to be a good student. Lee had to be…

Lee had to be straight. He knew he was straight. Being queer just wasn’t an option. Lee knew this. Lee knew this well. Even the suspicion of being a queer had gotten him killed. Even the suspicion of being a queer had gotten him Audrey’s contempt.

Why didn’t Lee have anyone to admire? Lee thought he had admired Audrey. Lee thought he had. Now he wasn’t so sure that admiration was what he felt toward his mother.

Why couldn’t Lee have trusted anyone? Why couldn’t he have talked to someone about his fears? Lee’s fears were stupid, irrational, childish, incorrect – definitely incorrect – but they were his fears and he had felt them.

Why couldn’t Lee have felt safe? Why did he always have to console himself? Why was it up to him to stand up to everyone else? Lee was strong. Lee was always strong. Yet Lee was just a boy.

Why couldn’t Lee have felt the type of love Andrew felt? Why was the love Lee received always contingent upon his actions? His behavior? His success? What if Lee had been a queer? Would anyone have ever loved him?

Lee knew that they would not have loved him. Lee knew that his safety and security were up to him. Lee knew that he truly couldn’t trust anyone with his fears. Lee had no one to admire.

Lee felt jealousy. Lee felt angry. Lee felt hatred.

As he lay there in that bed, considering these thoughts and these emotions, Lee suddenly came to a realization. Lee was laying there in that bed, not as an ethereal essence, but as a physical presence.

Lee’s hatred, his anger, his jealousy, they felt more real too. Lee felt more powerful than he had ever felt before and, as Andrew walked back into the room, Lee had a target.

 

 

Andrew thought surely he must still have been dreaming. It would have made sense considering that he was still lying in his bed. At least it looked like him lying in his bed.

“Hey Faggot!” Lee sneered.

Andrew was too shocked to speak. Instead he started to back out of the room.

“Not so fast,” Lee said as he leapt to his feet. Still standing on the bed he held out his hand dramatically. There was a brief rumble and a banging within the closet before Lee’s baseball bat flew through the shattered wood, narrowly missed Andrew’s head, and came to rest obediently in Lee’s raised hand.

“Holy Shit!” Andrew exclaimed in a breathless, stunned voice as he turned and ran down the hallway.

Andrew raced down the stairway desperate to get away. However, Lee merely jumped over the railing and he was already waiting for Andrew when he reached the bottom.

“What are you?” Andrew gasped out of breath as he came face to face with Lee.

“What you would have been,” Lee growled.

“Andrew, what’s going on?” Joyce asked as she walked out of the kitchen.

“Mom!” Andrew screamed in a terrified voice.

“Hey mom,” Lee said casually as he waved, and then punched Andrew in the gut.

With the wind knocked out of him, Andrew gasped and tripped backward over the stairs. Lee sneered and raised his bat.

“Leave him alone!” Joyce screamed as she rushed toward Lee.

“Go away!” Lee shouted with irritation as Joyce approached. When she less than a foot away from the two teens a slipper suddenly materialized near the base of the stairwell and as Joyce stepped on it she slid past them and landed with a thud on the living room floor.

Andrew had managed to crawl a few steps backward up the stairs, but Lee had other plans for him.

“Now where was the last place I saw that knife?” Lee asked maliciously.

“I know it wasn’t HERE,” he shouted as he turned enough for Andrew and Joyce to see the knife wound in his back.

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t HERE,” he growled as his shirt disappeared and he indicated the stab wound in his side.

“It wasn’t HERE either,” he said as he patted the multiple puncture wounds in his stomach.

“Oh I remember now! It was in my mother’s wrists,” he said in a low, bitter voice.

At that moment the bloody knife came floating down the stairs. Andrew watched, paralyzed with fear, as it wafted past his face and settled in Lee’s empty hand.

“Andy run!” Joyce screamed as she got back on her feet.

Andrew snapped out of his daze and began racing up the stairs. Meanwhile, Lee lunged at Joyce and slammed his baseball bat into her legs. As Joyce yelped in pain and crumpled to the floor, Lee stepped over her menacingly with the bat.

“Andy,” Lee called in a sickening voice as he looked at the top of the stairs where the boy had turned to look when he heard his mother cry out. “Come back down here or I’ll kill her.”

“Andrew don’t!” Joyce screamed.

“Shut up!” Lee growled as he slammed the bat across Joyce’s shoulders, causing her to topple over from her position on her hands and knees.

“The next swing cracks her skull open,” Lee stated.

Andrew drew in a sharp breath as he started to sob, but began his descent of the stairs. Once Andrew had reached the bottom of the stairs Lee raised his left arm, the one in which he held the knife, and looked at the crook of his arm expectantly. “Come here.”

Andrew willed himself to walk over to the ghost and accept the icy arm around his body. As Lee drew his blade against Andrew’s throat he kicked Joyce in the face and threw the bat across the room.

“Now, you two are going to have a little conversation,” Lee said as he put his other arm around Andrew to hold him in place and backed a few paces away from Joyce so that she could get a good look at her son from her position on the floor.

Andrew was trembling violently. Between the intense fear he was feeling and the icy grip of his tormentor he was beginning to lose awareness.

“Pay attention!” Lee demanded as he moved the knife to Andrew’s arm and drug the blade lightly over the surface making a long, superficial cut. The pain made Andrew gasp and drew him back to a consciousness of the situation.

“Please, leave him alone,” Joyce pleaded as she struggled to stand, using the wall for support.

“First tell him how you feel about him. Tell him how you feel about his sexuality,” Lee commanded.

“What?!” Joyce gasped in confusion.

“TELL HIM!” Lee screamed.

“I love him and I accept him just the way he is,” Joyce answered defiantly as she glared at the wraith.

“Wrong answer,” Lee howled as he raised his arm and sunk the blade into Andrew’s thigh. The boy screamed in agony as the deathly cold blade sank into his flesh. Andrew started to fall down, but Lee caught him around the neck with his forearm, leaving the boy dangling helplessly as he struggled to regain his footing and relieve some of the icy pressure on his neck.

Joyce went wild-eyed and struggled forward despite the pain in her legs. She stopped in her tracks though when Lee pulled the knife from Andrew’s thigh and returned it to its position against his throat.

“Why don’t we try again,” Lee said ruthlessly.

“I hate him,” Joyce mumbled under her breath as she tried to control her tears.

“I’m sorry, a little bit louder,” Lee insisted as he lightly grazed Andrew’s neck with the weapon.

“I said I hate him!” Joyce screamed in agony. “He’s a disappointing faggot and I wish he had never been born.”

Joyce’s words cut through Andrew with the same excruciating pain that the knife had caused and pierced him right to the heart. As he lost the will to continue struggling Andrew went limp in Lee’s grip and passively began awaiting his fate.

But then, just as all hope had abandoned him, Andrew happened to look up at his mother one last time. As their eyes met Andrew heard her telling him something else.

Andrew heard that she loved him. Andrew heard that she was proud of him. Andrew heard that she would protect him.

Lee laughed maliciously and sneered at Joyce, “I knew that’s how you felt.”

With his point proven Lee unceremoniously turned and slammed the boy into the wall. As he turned his back on Joyce and drew back his blade to finish Andrew off Lee felt something surprising. Lee felt love, unconditional love, in the form of ten small fingers clawing at his arms. It burned Lee. It burned him a great deal. In that moment Lee knew that he hadn’t proven his point at all; Joyce had proven hers.

Lee turned to face the woman, to fight her off. Unfortunately for Lee everywhere that Joyce touched him burned. It burned him a great deal.

As the two continued their desperate struggle Lee felt himself feeling weaker and weaker. Lee felt weaker than he had ever felt before. Lee expected to dissipate. Lee thought that at any moment he would loose his physical form and revert to a spectral entity. Lee was wrong.

Lee’s strength continued to wane until at last he found himself on his knees at the mercy of the angry mother. Still her touch burned Lee and still he could find no relief. At last, with the final power remaining to him, Lee plunged the wretched knife into Joyce’s stomach.

 

 

Andrew’s restless slumber was disturbed by the aroma of burnt potatoes.

“Mom, MOM?” Andrew called desperately as his senses, and the pain, began to return.

His mother’s blood was warm to Andrew’s touch and Andrew thought surely he must still have been dreaming.

 

********

 

20 years later

 

“Your principal paid me a visit today,” Andrew stated as he handed his daughter a bowl of macaroni and cheese. His voice was gentle, but firm.

“Really?” Joy inquired in a small voice as her appetite abandoned her.

“Is it true?” Andrew asked softly as he looked at his daughter.

“Is what true?” the little girl responded evasively.

“Were you…” Andrew paused unsure of how to proceed. “Were you making fun of a boy in a wheelchair?”

Joy’s eyes became wide with fear and she felt like her young heart had just stopped. “Daddy I…” she trailed off as her lip began to quiver and she dropped the bowl of macaroni.

“Sshhh, baby it’s okay,” Andrew said soothingly as he picked up the little girl and sat her on the counter.

“Are you going to stop loving me now, daddy,” Joy asked with tears in her eyes.

Andrew stopped cleaning up the macaroni and made eye-contact with his daughter. “Sweetie, I’m never going to stop loving you. I promise.”

Joy began to sob softly as she clutched her father. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby, but it’s important to accept people who are different,” Andrew said as he hugged his daughter.

“Daddy, can we still hang grandma’s painting in my room?” Joy asked hopefully.

“Of course, sweetie,” Andrew said as he gently lifted his daughter off the counter and fixed her another bowl of macaroni.

 

 

Andrew needed the painting. It reminded him of his mother. If there was one thing Andrew enjoyed in life it was being reminded of his mother. In fact, thinking about her had gotten him through some of the most difficult phases of his life.

When he had first decided to have the painting finished, Andrew had wondered if he were making a mistake. He dreaded the thought of ruining one of his mother’s paintings, but he felt like he needed to take the risk.

As Andrew removed the painting from his wall and looked at it intently he was once again reassured that it had been the right decision to have it finished; it had come out beautifully and he knew that Joyce would have approved.

The painting was of a very large, beautiful oak tree overlooking a peaceful lake. Standing in front of the lake, with very large smiles on their faces and arms around each other, was a representation of a much younger Andrew with his mother, Joyce. At the bottom of the painting, over the grassy foreground, the following message was inscribed:

“The most dangerous place to be is between a mother and her child.”

Andrew needed the painting, but he decided that his daughter needed it more.

© 2008 AFriendlyFace

Story Discussion