Remembering Tim - 19. Chapter 19 - Love & Death

Mama’s surgeries started the night of her arrival at the emergency room. She’d lost her left eye when her husband’s fist slammed into her face too many times on that side. As best as Bert could figure she was going to be in the hospital for at least a month, not getting to go home until after school started. That could have been good for me and Ricky, but it wasn’t to be.

Ricky had what seemed to me to be an unnatural love for his father. It was almost like he wanted to get beat up by dear old dad. We slept in the same bed, but that was what we were doing, sleeping. Ricky seemed to be mad at me right from the outset when I woke him up the morning after putting him to bed with my teddy bear. I was kissing his ear.

“Stop that!” He hissed and rolled away from me. “Is sex all you think about?”

He was up and into the bathroom before I could say anything. I heard the latch click. He locked me out of my own bathroom, good thing I’d already taken care of my morning bladder. After what seemed like forever, but was probably no more than ten minutes, he came out with a towel wrapped around him and went to the dresser. He kept his back to me while he put on some clothes.

“I want to go home today,” he said, turning around to face me. He was wearing faded blue jeans that had a hole in the right front pocket and a Pomona jersey. I think he wore that only to piss off his brother who was an ardent UCLA fan.

“You’ll have to talk to Ruben about that,” I said. “He didn’t sound like he wanted you over there. I guess there’s quite a mess to clean up, besides the broken living room window.”

“What happened?”

“Your father threw your mother through the window,” I said. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, the quilt covering my nakedness. “That’s when the neighbors called the police.”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Now, he’ll never get out. The judge told him one more time and he was going to do hard time. Fucking goddamned stupid asshole! Why does he have to do this shit?” He stared at me with empty eyes, the eyes he had yesterday. His lower lip was quivering. He started blinking as tears welled up into his eyes.

Suddenly, Ricky crumpled to the floor into a ball of tears. I picked up the teddy bear, a pillow, and the quilt—he wasn’t going to notice me now—and made him as comfortable as I could. Then I went and took a lonely shower.

Basically, Ricky ignored me as days stretched into weeks. He wanted to go home, but Ruben was adamant that he stay with me. Actually, I think Ruben wanted an excuse to come over and have me suck him.

He’d come to me whenever Ricky was sulking in the bedroom and have that “I haven’t come since I was last here” look. He looked so pitiful and I always gave in. Ricky and I weren’t doing anything, he barely acknowledged my presence in bed, but Ruben was nicer than ever. We had our favorite locations on the property. The powder room off the foyer, the gazebo down the slope below the pool, the landing at the top of the stairs leading to the former chauffeur’s quarters, and a couple quickies in the library when Uncle Walter wasn’t home and Bert was in his office.

It was cheating, pure and simple. No matter how many times I told myself I was helping Ruben, I knew I was cheating on Ricky, even though he seemed to care little whether I was alive or not. Yet, Ruben was so good about it all. Even, apologetic that he’d given in to his desire for an orgasm, very much against his coach’s orders.

Then it all came to an abrupt end. Julie came with him and we left her sitting by the pool, Ruben practically pulled me into the garage on the pretext of looking at the Roadster. Julie winked at me when Ruben wasn’t looking. She knew and she could care less what we were doing. We went up to the landing outside the chauffeur’s quarters. I was about to kneel down and get to work when Ruben held me against him.

“Wait, let me hold you a moment,” he whispered. Unexpectedly, I felt his lips on mine and a hand groping my crotch. I pulled away from him.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked. There was a need in his eyes I’d never seen before. Was it possible straight Ruben had a slight curve in his arrows? Whatever it was, I didn’t want to participate in his fantasy. For me, it was a simple quick blowjob with absolutely no emotional involvement. Ricky may have me on hold, but I wasn’t about to get tangled up with his older brother.

“I thought you might want something more,” he said, staring at the floor, his faced reddened from embarrassment.

“Not from you,” I said. I turned to start down the stairs. “I may not be getting anything from Ricky right now, but you’re not even gay.”

“I can pretend,” Ruben said.

“Not with me, you don’t.”

“Where are you going?” Ruben asked. He was anxious, now. He was hard and ready and I was walking out of his life. “I thought you’d at least suck me.”

“Not today, buddy. Not today.”

I walked down the stairs, out the side door, and across the turning circle toward the side door to the house. My dick was hard, as hard as it had ever been in my life, but I wasn’t about to share it with Ricky’s straight brother. I wanted one thing and Ruben finally forced my hand.

Ricky was in the lounge watching a soap. He ignored me when I sat down beside him. He ignored me when I put my hand into his crotch. He tried to ignore me when I turned his face to mine and put my lips to his.

A few minutes later when I tired of kissing his unresponsive lips, I said, “You might as well pack your bag and leave. Ruben might still be here so you can go with him. If not, I’ll take you. I can’t see any point in having you stay here.”

“You have your driver’s license?” he asked. He didn’t appear glad I might take him for a ride in the Roadster, just slightly inquisitive.

“Yeah, I got it a few days ago. I asked if you wanted to go down to Jimmy’s Place for a burger and to see Sugar, but you ignored me. Just like you’ve ignored me since you got here. Now, are you going to pack your stuff, or do I have to do that, too?”

I got up and headed for the door. As much as I feared Ricky might become my next true boyfriend, I was tired of the Ortegas and their games. Ruben trying to go faggy on me and Ricky still locked in his gloom because dear old dad was headed for prison, not seeming to care anything about dear Mama’s smashed up face.

I was in the hall when a hand grabbed my shoulder. I tried to shake it off, but Ricky wasn’t having any of that. I turned and stared into his empty eyes. He was only a little angry as all his other emotions were still focused on his father.

“What?” I asked. I wanted to kiss him, but I wanted him out of my life, too.

“I thought you loved me?” Fear washed over his face. Could it be? Could he still have feelings toward me? Was the Ricky Ortega I fell in love with still inside that beautiful young boy?

“I thought I did, too,” I said, angrily, which surprised me. All of this emotional stuff was getting me nervous. After a whole year of being drained of all emotion except constantly unfulfilled love, I was now on an edge I couldn’t remember. “But you know what? Ruben tried to go queer on me. You’re sulking around here, pissing and moaning about Papa going to prison and not being able to beat the shit out of you, and your fucking brother tries to pretend he’s a fag, too. Trying to kiss me when all I was going to do was suck him. All those fucking blowjobs I’ve been giving him and he thinks he can be a fucking faggot, too.”

Aw, shit! I thought. My fucking mouth!

And, I didn’t see the hand until the last moment, just before it slammed into my cheek.

**********

I sat with my knees pulled up against my chest in the hall across from my open bedroom door watching Ricky slowly put his clothes into his duffel bag. He was weeping, but also seemed to be making a big show of it by going to the dresser for a pair of socks, then walking over the duffel bag on the bed and putting them in; then returning for another item all the while sneaking glances at me in the hall.

What I couldn’t believe was I hadn’t told him before that Ruben was coming to me to for blowjobs and that I was more than willing to suck his cock. In nearly thirty days how many times had I gotten down on my knees? Fifteen? Ten? Twenty? I couldn’t remember. I could remember, though, not telling Ricky what I was doing; or, rather, what his brother was asking me to do. I could have explained it so easily, made it into a joke we could share, “Ah, look at poor little Ruben. I wonder why he’s here today?” But I didn’t because I hadn’t told Ricky about the first time.

He stopped putting clothes in the bag and turned to stare at me. I saw his mouth move, but didn’t hear the words. He kept staring at me. He spoke again, but still his voice was too soft for me to hear. Then he yelled, “Come here!”

I got to my feet and slowly went to him. He didn’t look mad, kind of sad, actually.

“You didn’t shut the door,” he said. He walked past me and shut it. He pushed in the lock. He walked back to me, took my face in his hands, and locked his lips to mine.

I tried to touch him, but he brushed my hands away from his body all the while his tongue was trying to force itself down my throat. His owns hands were all over my chest and back. He broke our kiss, but before I could say anything he was pulling my t-shirt over my head. His lips returned to mine as two fingers pinched the hell out of my right nipple causing me to cringe away, but he only moved to the other nipple, doing the same.

Ricky pushed me toward the bed, not stopping until I fell back onto the quilt. I stared up at him, but the Ricky I fell in love with wasn’t there. This was a new boy, someone who was mad at me for a lot of reasons; and, yet, there still seemed to be a bit of the devilishly devious Ricky showing through. My shoes were off and he was pulling my jeans and underwear down to my ankles.

He got onto the bed, knelt over me and forced his mouth onto mine. Again, I tried to touch him, but his hands weren’t having that. Then, quite suddenly, totally unexpected, he flipped me over onto my stomach. One hand pressed between my shoulder blades holding me onto the bed. I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being lowered. I glanced to my right side and saw a hand taking the lube from the drawer. At least he was going to use that.

He hadn’t pulled his pants down when I felt him press against me, the lube cold to my skin. I relaxed as much as I could, but the assault was still incredibly painful as he thrust deep into me. He pulled out, quickly thrust back in, and then he stopped and fell down onto my back. I felt a tear drop onto my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this to you,” Ricky whispered in my ear. He rose up, pulled out, and lay down beside me. He was crying, again.

I sat up and removed my jeans and underwear. Then knelt over him and began to quickly undress him. He looked up at me, but I shushed him by placing my fingertip over his lips. When he was naked, I got over him with my knees on either side and lowered myself slowly down taking him deep inside.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you,” I said as I began to rise up and slowly ease back down.

**********

“What happens now?” Ricky asked.

We were lying on our backs next to each other, exhausted after four, or was it five, incredibly intense orgasms from all the fucking and sucking we hadn’t done since he came to the house. He was holding my hand and our hands were the only part of our bodies that were touching. We were still far apart from each other, but our hands held us from drifting away.

“We first did it when he came to pick me up for your birthday party,” I said. “We were joking, but he went serious and asked. I didn’t say no. I should have said no, but I didn’t. He went quick, real quick. Do you know he’s shaved down there and is wearing pink panties?”

“What?”

“Some sort of football team thing and his coach told him not to jerk off.”

“What?” Ricky was giggling, soft little laughs strung together with happiness he hadn’t expressed in weeks.

“He’s doing quite well with the jerking off part, but keeps asking me for blowjobs. I should have told you. God, how you must hate me.”

“I love you.”

He rolled over onto his side facing me. I felt his hand on my cheek where he slapped it.

“I don’t think you’ll have a bruise,” he said. Then he lowered himself down and pressed his lips against mine. “These are my lips and you cannot use them on anyone else without my permission. Do you understand? No kissing Bert. No sucking Ruben.”

“No kissing Bert?”

“You don’t think I’ve seen you, but I have. No kissing Bert.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“Yeah, now that I know what it feels like to have you in me, I don’t want us to do that ever again.”

“Okay, I won’t fuck you. Do you want to do me?”

“I said no fucking.”

“Okay, no kissing or sucking other guys and no fucking. Anything else?”

“Yeah, kiss me.”

I didn’t think life could get any better, but like an old song that irritates every time it fills your mind with its noxious ditty, my life wasn’t going to get any better.

**********

We were in his sister’s apartment and Tim was fucking me. His dick was different than when he’d first forced me to take him inside over a year ago. It was bigger, thicker, and longer. It was Ricky’s dick, but it was Tim who was fucking me. I couldn’t see him, but I knew it was him. I could hear his hard breathing above me.

“Geoff?”

I felt a hand jostle my shoulder. Tim was still fucking me. I was hard and my cock was ready to explode.

“Geoff?”

I felt the jostle, again. Tim evaporated into the night.

“Geoff?”

It was Bert’s voice and hand trying to wake me.

“Geoff?”

“What is it?” I asked, finally. Someone was dead. You don’t get woken in the middle of the night if someone has stubbed their toe, fallen down the stairs and only bruised their butt, or any other trivial reason in the world. To get woken in the night, someone close to you has to die.

“Your mother is on the phone,” Bert whispered. “She wants to speak to you.”

Well, it wasn’t my mother. That left Doctor Randall, Sally, Trudy, and my brother, but I didn’t think it was him because he was across the ocean playing dominoes with someone. If he had died, Mother would’ve gotten a telegram. She’d call in the morning.

“Come on, Geoff, you need to talk to her,” Bert whispered.

I looked at Ricky, but he was still asleep. At that moment, as I watched him sleeping, I knew our days were numbered. I was going to lose another boyfriend. I was doomed. I was naked, too.

I stood up and Bert sighed. I tried to remember where my robe was, but he was pulling me out the door.

“Hurry up, Geoff,” Bert hissed.

I was still hard from being fucked by Tim and I had to piss, too. Bert put his robe around me at the top of the back stairs. He gave me a half hug. Then I was certain someone was dead. You only get half hugs when someone dies.

I walked down the steps afraid of what was waiting for me. I was going away and Ricky wasn’t going with me. I was never coming back. I felt like a condemned killer walking those last few steps to the gallows. I should’ve been hurrying, but I couldn’t go any faster.

And, then, it was there. Right there in front of me. The bridge railing beckoned and I thought, “Make sure you go head first.” Make it quick and easy.

Uncle Walter was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t look good. This was totally out of character for him. He had to be a dad and he hadn’t studied his script. I nodded and went to the phone in the kitchen. He brought a chair over to me and I sat down. I guess he couldn’t see any sense in me fainting and falling down onto that hard floor.

“Hello?” I said.

“Honey? This is your mother.”

“Hi.”

“Honey, there’s been an accident. Timothy is dead.”

An image came into my mind of Tim lying out on some lonely stretch of highway somewhere far away. He was covered in his blood. There was a little rivulet trickling away from a big gash across the side of his head. Red lights were flashing everywhere. No one was hurrying to put him in an ambulance.

“Honey? Are you there?”

“Yes.”

“Honey, I need you to come home, please?”

“Sure, okay.”

“I’ve spoken to Walter and he’ll arrange a flight for you. I’ll have Trudy pick you up at the airport. Okay?”

“Sure, okay,” I said. The line went dead.

I sat there trying to get Tim out of my mind. It was Doctor Randall, my step-father. The man who I thought wanted to fuck me, but really wanted to fuck my mother. He wasn’t going to be doing any fucking ever again.

Bert was beside me with a glass of something. I took it and swallowed. Other than Mother’s New Year’s orange juice treat, I’d never had hard liquor. I don’t know if it was brandy or whiskey, but it was vile and burned my throat.

“I’ve made reservations for you,” Bert said. He held out his hand and I stood up. “I’ll pack what you’ll need.”

“I’m not coming back,” I said. I couldn’t look at him because he knew I wasn’t coming back and I’d been able to see that in his face.

“Geoff?” Uncle Walter asked. He held out his arms. He wanted to hug me and I couldn’t refuse.

I was being forced out of Paradise and I wasn’t ever coming back. We all knew that.

**********

Trudy met me at the airport. She was subdued, but not grief stricken. She hardly knew Doctor Randall, not like I did. After the compulsory, cold hug, we picked up my bags and went to her car. It was early in the morning, but rush hour was in full swing. I could tell she wanted to talk, but I didn’t know what to say other than, “I think the next bridge is high enough. Could you stop so I can jump?”

Except, I couldn’t figure out why I wanted to jump. Doctor Randall wasn’t that important to me. Ricky was, but I’d lost so many boyfriends before, it wasn’t like I’d have trouble finding another one to lose. No, I wanted to jump for some reason I couldn’t figure out.

Then, again, I didn’t actually have to jump. There were other ways of going. We weren’t going fast enough for me to jump out of the car and hope to get hit by a big truck in the other lane. That was the problem with rush hour. Other than stopping at a bridge, which wasn’t going to happen because Trudy was driving, my only other option was to jump out into traffic, but we were mostly at a standstill.

“Mother isn’t doing too well,” Trudy finally said. “I came up yesterday as soon as I heard. I don’t know why Mother called for you because there certainly doesn’t seem to be any reason for you to be here. We had a little argument and things were said. Is it true you’re a homo like Uncle Walter?”

How had her argument with Mother gotten around to be about me being queer? She glanced over at me.

“Well?” she asked.

I didn’t like the tone of her voice. I’d heard that voice from other people who didn’t like boys like me. Mother didn’t care, but it sounded like Trudy had a problem with me.

“Are you going to say something, faggot?” she asked.

Well, that was enough for me.

“Yes, I’m queer,” I said. “So, if you don’t like me anymore, you might as well pull over onto the shoulder and let me out. I’ll get home on my own.”

She kept driving and we didn’t say another word, but I could tell this wasn’t over. I certainly didn’t know what I was going to do at home. Sure, I could drive, now, but I, also, knew I was very close to falling back into the depression that nearly killed me. With Doctor Randall dead, Mother seemingly distraught over it, and Trudy having some kind of problem with me being queer, what help could I offer? I wanted very much to go back to California, but Bert told me at the airport they were planning to ship all my stuff, including Tim’s Corsair, back to North Park. It was assumed that I was not coming back.

When we arrived at the house, I was surprised to see Mother’s sister at our backdoor. Except in pictures sent with their annual Christmas card, I’d never seen the woman, but Aunt Phyl and Mother were twins. Yet, it was obvious it wasn’t Mother. Aunt Phyl had an attitude about something.

I got out of the car and went to the trunk to get my bags, but that was not to be.

“Geoff Johnson? I’m your Aunt Phyllis,” she said. She was at my side instantly. She’d performed the mother trick of moving at faster than the speed of light.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. She was from Alabama. I assumed she expected politeness, extreme politeness.

“You may go see your mother,” she said. “We’ve made arrangements for you to stay elsewhere. We don’t need your kind soiling your mother’s home.”

I stood quietly listening to her. I was not welcome in my own home. I was a dirty faggot. I was a filthy ho-mo-sex-u-al who had no right to sleep under my mother’s roof. God would punish me for my sinful behavior.

What I needed was a phone so I could get back to California, but that would have to wait because a man came out onto the porch. It was Aunt Phyl’s husband, Frank, he was big, overweight big, but he’d always been big. It’s just that age had swapped out muscles for lard. He did not look jolly.

“Come with me, boy,” he said. He turned and held the screen door for me.

Mother was sitting on her bed propped up with a lot of pillows. She looked as if she’d been crying for a long, long time. I went to her and bent to kiss her cheek.

“Get away from her!” Aunt Phyl shrieked.

Uncle Frank pulled me away and threw me up against the wall. Mother kind of looked my way and I saw she was drugged out of her mind. There was a sweaty paw holding me against the wall, but I wasn’t in the mood to struggle. All I wanted at that moment was to get out of North Park and on the first bus back to LA. I figured I had enough money for that, as Uncle Walter hadn’t been stingy when handing me a wad of bills to see me through.

“Hello, Mother,” I said. “I’m sorry about Doctor Randall.”

She looked at me and nodded. Her eyes were droopy from whatever it was they were giving her. She sounded okay when we talked on the phone, but maybe Aunt Phyl hadn’t arrived by that time. I wanted to go to her, but I didn’t want Uncle Frank manhandling me out of the bedroom. It was more than obvious he wasn’t afraid of a scrawny little faggot.

“Geoff’s ride is here,” Trudy said at the door.

I looked at her, but there was no clue as to where I was headed. What was obvious, though, was that she hated me.

“Good riddance,” Aunt Phyl said. “Get him out of here, Frank.”

Well, I certainly didn’t have a choice because I was being roughly manhandled out of the bedroom and down the hall toward the backdoor. Having been a resident of the County psych ward, I knew exactly what to do. I went limp and offered no resistance.

Mark’s brother was standing on the porch. Things were suddenly looking up. I had a slight hope of improving weather.

“Hi, Geoff, I guess you’ll be staying with my parents for a few days,” Gary said.

“Is that okay?” I asked.

“Well, yeah, it is, Mark’s at football camp and won’t be home until later this week,” Gary said. He shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile, but he knew why I asked. “He’s staying at my apartment, anyway. So, even if he was here, you probably wouldn’t see him.”

“No, I guess that wouldn’t be a good idea,” I said.

I turned to Trudy and asked, “When is the funeral?”

“Why do you care, you’re not invited,” she said. My sister was getting on my nerves, but there was little I could do with Uncle Frank standing beside her.

“No, I guess I wouldn’t be, but why exactly did Mother want me up here?” I asked.

“We have no idea, but it is obvious having you here has caused her to be extremely upset,” Aunt Phyl said.

“What’d I do?” I asked. Besides being born queer, moving to LA to live with my queer uncle, and missing the two queer loves of my short life, what could I have done?

“You’re a filthy faggot and that’s enough for us,” Aunt Phyl said.

I saw Gary wince.

“I guess we’d better go,” I said.

“Definitely,” Gary said.

**********

We hadn’t talked all the way to the Patterson house. What can you say about people who hate you that much? If my dad hadn’t hated me so much, I might have been surprised about Trudy’s reaction. I simply figured she was Daddy’s girl and picked up a lot of his hatred from being too close to him. My aunt and uncle? I didn’t know them. I didn’t know where their hatred came from and really didn’t care. I wanted to go back to California. That’s all I wanted to do.

Gary helped me with my bags when we pulled up in his parents’ driveway. These people had expressed their dislike for me. It was somewhat mollified by Doctor Randall’s explanation about having to keep Mark safe from gossip and innuendo, but it didn’t make it easy going to this house. It didn’t get any better when Mr. Patterson opened the door.

“Hello, Geoff, here let me take that bag,” he said, reaching for the suitcase in my hand. “I want you to know I am sorry how everything turned out.”

“I know it had to be done for Mark’s sake,” I said. I stood there unable to say anything more. My feelings toward his son were still very strong and I guess he knew that. Before I knew what was happening, he’d set the suitcase on the porch and had his arms around me. I was a bit teary eyed when he finally released me from his embrace.

“We’ve put you up in the guest room upstairs next to Donny,” Mrs. Patterson said as she came out the door.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. Well, I wondered because they had been so adamant that no one know about my friendship with Mark.

“Your sister called Monica,” Gary said. “I guess the way your sister was talking made her think I might be willing to help you. I called Mom and Dad. We couldn’t say no, not with everything you’ve done for Mark.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have been welcome at Monica’s,” I said.

“Did you see this morning’s article?” Mrs. Patterson asked. I’d seen the paper in her hand, but didn’t suspect it might explain some of what happened. I wasn’t all that interested, but curiosity got the better of me.

“No, I wasn’t able to stay at home for very long,” I said.

“Here, you can look at it now,” Mrs. Patterson said. She handed me the newspaper. It was opened to the article.

Everything slowed down, as I read the two-column headline above the story: “Nationally Acclaimed Psychiatrist Drives Off Bridge Killing Self and Step-Daughter.” I now knew why Mother had been doped up. She must have had a moment of clarity when she asked me to come home, but she was discovered before she had a chance to tell me Sally was dead.

I guess everyone thought I knew, but from Mrs. Patterson’s horrified expression, she knew I didn’t know. She wrapped her arms around me and I completely lost it. This was a good mother. She had lots of boys and knew just what to do.

“Come on, Geoff, let’s get you to your room,” Mrs. Patterson said. “Gary, you help Geoff. We’ll bring up his bags.”

It was all mechanical from that moment on. Gary practically carried me up the stairs and into the room. It was a nice room with lots of frills and pastels. There was a bottle of something next to a glass of water on the nightstand. It looked like a prescription. I sat down on the bed and stared at a point on the floor halfway between the bed and the wall while the three of them went about unpacking my suitcases and putting all the clothes away.

My little sister was dead. That kept running through my mind as I sat on the bed and softly wept. I didn’t remember feeling like this when Dad died, but then he was in the hospital and we all knew he was dying. I hadn’t read any further in the article so I didn’t know which bridge he drove off and I didn’t have a clue how Sally died. I wanted her death to have been quick so she didn’t have to suffer, but I didn’t know and not knowing was tearing me up inside.

Then, probably not too unexpectedly, my mind went to Trudy, Aunt Phyl, and that lump was flesh that was her husband. They were keeping me from Mother because of their hatred toward me. I was being forced to stay out of my own home. I couldn’t be with my mother.

“Fuck!” I exclaimed. “Those fucking dirty bastards.”

I fell over onto the pillows and brought my knees up onto the bed. I wanted my teddy bear. I wanted to suck my thumb. I wanted my mother. I started bawling like a little baby and I couldn’t stop.