Remembering Tim - 6. Chapter 6 - The Hero

The next two weeks were spent like any other two weeks in the life of a high school sophomore at North Park High in the autumn; football, football, football. No more movies because Monica and Mark were too busy getting him ready for football games. He’d made it onto the varsity team this year, and not because he was the meanest, baddest tight end the school had. There wasn’t a junior to play the position and the only senior close to being able to fill the slot was simply pathetic whenever someone tossed a ball at him. “No reliability,” Mark said to us at our lunch table. Coach Jorgenson put it down as simple as that. A cut had to be made and Mark got it because he could catch a football, not that tight ends had that many footballs thrown their way, but it helped if you could catch it if one came by.

Kiel, Tim and I not surprisingly didn’t have any classes together. I was on the honors college track. Kiel and Tim were on the regular college track. I was being prepped for Harvard, Yale, or Stanford, but why anyone would want to go there, I have no idea. They were looking at a local state college, or possibly one of the local private colleges. I could see myself going to Western Washington State if I could have Kiel’s dick up my ass.

Our one time together was lunch. Our table was called the Fairy Table, not because the three of us sat there, but because there was a bronze fairy in the atrium on the other side of the window. It took a lot of guts to sit at the Fairy Table, but Kiel and Tim thought it was okay because they said, “Both of us have had sex with a fairy.” Monica joined us because that was where I was sitting. I was her boy friend (two words) and she wanted to sit with me. Mark sat there because he was Monica’s boyfriend (one word). The sixth was Jennifer Marks. Jennifer was Tim’s girl friend. Jennifer was skinny, deathly skinny. She wasn’t much to look at, either. She was fun, though. She had a girlfriend at Crestline High, which probably qualified her to sit at our table.

The funny thing about eating at that table, though, was Kiel. He hardly said a word to anybody, except me, and everybody completely ignored him. It was almost as if he wasn’t there. Of course, there were only six chairs at the Fairy Table and there were six kids, not counting Kiel, so how he was sitting beside me all the time was a mystery I didn’t have time to figure out.

The first Friday in October was the traditional day when North Park lost to Ballard. We were rivals from the beginning of time. By the autumn of 1964 our record against them was 10-44-2. They were always one bad team, while North Park traditionally rolled over and played dead early in the second quarter. Things didn’t look too good in 1964 at the end of the first quarter with the score 0-14, but by the half it was 17-14 and their badass linebacker, Kelly Norman, was out with torn ligaments in his right knee, courtesy of Mark, by the way. It was a bad block and earned North Park a fifteen-yard penalty, but that sucker was out for the season, for the rest of his life, actually. Turned out he’d messed up his knee during the summer and hadn’t told anyone. Football players can be so stupid sometimes.

We kicked to them at the start of the second half and their star running back Nels Larson fumbled on their twenty-five and Mark recovered. He was well on his way to becoming North Park’s next football hero, too bad he was only a tight end. We made the touchdown and then they marched right through us like we weren’t even on the field and made their third, and last, touchdown of the night.

On the last play of the night, Scotty Cook threw a short pass to Mark, who the entire Ballard team seemed to have forgotten, and Mark ran five easy yards into the end zone. 31-21 was the final score and the North Park stands went crazy. To say pandemonium broke out is close, but it was a little more insane. North Park hadn’t won in twenty years. This was a night for celebration.

Only, we were sophomores and the three of us had an eleven o’clock curfew. I was in the mood for a little sex, but Kiel and Tim wanted pizza. Tim was driving so pizza it was. We ordered an anchovy and pineapple. Trust me, it’s good, especially after a great football game, and you have to order root beer or it doesn’t taste good at all. Tim got Kiel and I home by 10:45 and I kissed him after Kiel got out.

“Too bad you can’t stay, we could celebrate,” I said, lingering at his window.

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to be late getting home,” Tim said, but his eyes wanted me to get back in the car. “If I’m late, we’ll be walking to school next week. Of course, I don’t mind because I’m only a half mile away. You, on the other hand, have got to be at least two miles away.”

“Two and a half, depending on whether you cut through the industrial area, the cemeteries, or come straight down the boulevard. Will we get together sometime this weekend?”

“Depends on whether Nanci is home, or not.”

“Is she nice?”

“My sister? Yeah, she sucks my cock every night before I go to sleep.”

“She does not!”

“I wish you could.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

I watched him back out of the driveway and wondered if we’d ever get back together. Kiel was waiting for me at the gate to his backyard. We kissed a lot more passionately than I’d done with Tim. I felt Kiel’s hand unzip my pants and go in for its treasure. I was hard in an instant and he was down on his knees. I couldn’t believe he was sucking me practically in full view of our houses. We were hidden somewhat from his house by a lilac bush and his father’s pickup and a rhododendron shielded us from my house, but there wasn’t anything between us and the street except for a lot of dark. I was off in about as long as it would’ve taken Tim.

“God, Kiel,” I whispered when he stood up. He took my hand and put it on his erection. He had it out and it felt hot to my touch.

“Turn around,” Kiel whispered. As I did, he undid my belt and unbuttoned my pants. Pants and briefs were pulled down before I knew what was happening. I felt the head of Kiel’s dick pressing against me for only a moment. He must have had some lube because when I relaxed my muscle, it slipped in. Not all the way, just enough for him to get a few short thrusts before holding me to him, his fingers feeling for my nipples, which he pinched so hard I nearly cried out. Then he was coming and his thrusts sped up. Oh, god, it hurt like nothing I’d felt since being raped in the psych ward. Oh, god, I never imagined that much pain could feel so good.

“Thanks, I needed that,” Kiel whispered after pulling out. “I’m going to have sweet dreams tonight.”

“Yeah, thanks, for the blow job,” I said, putting myself back together. I turned and he was gone. I stood there in the dark with a sore ass and a strange feeling I’d been used. I didn’t like that feeling at all, but I couldn’t shake it. I knew there were not going to be any sweet dreams for me, more likely nightmares of being in a psych ward with a bunch of erections.

**********

“Geoff?” Monica said as I answered the telephone. It was 6:30 Saturday morning.

“Do you know what time it is?” I asked.

“Yes, but Mark called. He’s hurt. You need to help him.”

“And, I can do that by, how?”

“Call Tim and come pick me up.” She hung up before I could respond.

So, I called Tim’s house and the housekeeper told me he was down at his sister’s apartment. She gave me the number. Tim was at my house in half an hour. When I went outside I saw Kiel get in the backseat. I didn’t call Kiel, but he was there. I wanted to talk, so I climbed in beside him.

“Hey, aren’t you going to sit with me?” Tim asked.

“No, it’ll be easier when you pick up Monica,” I said.

“So, what’d you do after I left?” Tim asked.

“Kiel blew me and then fucked my ass. We were outside when he did it.”

“Geoff?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor and cut the crap about Kiel. Okay?”

“Sure, I guess,” I mumbled not knowing what he meant. I looked at Kiel, but he only shrugged his shoulders.

“I called him last night before going to sleep,” Kiel said. “Tim wanted to know.”

“But, I, you, Tim?”

“Look, I can deal with your craziness, but stop acting like Kiel is still among the living. Would you do that for me? Huh?”

I looked at Kiel, but he wasn’t there. Suddenly, I felt very afraid. Had I been hallucinating? Had Kiel actually jumped? Did he really go over the railing because he knew I didn’t have the balls to do it? Well, I’d show him.

“Well?”

“Whatever you say, Tim,” I said. It was all I could say. I want you to know, it’s scary realizing you’re crazy. A lot of people never come to that realization, but a few do and I did at that moment. I wanted very much to ask Tim to stop on the bridge so I could jump off it, but I knew he wouldn’t. I, also, knew he’d probably drive me out to Dr. Randall’s nut bin on the other side of Lake Washington. He’d do that for me. He was that kind of boy, friend.

“Do you know where Monica lives?” I asked.

“Yeah, this is a shortcut,” Tim answered, causing the car to swerve a little.

“Why does everyone know about these things but me?” I asked no one in particular, but since there was only me and Tim in the car, I suppose he might have thought I was talking to Kiel, again.

“Because you don’t need to know everything,” Kiel said. “Are you okay?”

“You left kind of sudden.”

“It doesn’t matter where I went. Besides, it probably wasn’t any of your business anyway.”

“You didn’t give me a goodnight kiss.”

“I kissed you before sucking your dick.”

“God, Geoff, will you stop talking like Kiel is sitting in the backseat?” Tim yelled causing the car to veer from one side of the street to the other until he suddenly swerved into Monica’s driveway. She was waiting.

“You guys certainly took your time,” she said getting into the front seat, “and what’s with the fancy driving, Tim?”

“Geoff is acting very crazy in the backseat and it’s scaring me,” Tim said.

Monica glared at me. I responded with a weak smile.

“I don’t what to hear crazy shit from you,” Monica said. “Mark’s up on Capitol Hill. He said he’s in a phone booth at the corner of East Pike and Boylston.”

“There’s a gay bar on that corner,” Kiel said.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“My old boyfriend’s uncle owns it.”

“Your old boyfriend’s uncle is gay?” I asked.

“Geoff, stop it!” Monica exclaimed.

I looked to Kiel, but he’d disappeared, again. I was very, very afraid, now. I actually believed he was there and I was talking to him. This was the kind of crazy that gets you locked up for a long, long time.

“What happened to Mark?” I asked, wondering what he was doing outside a gay bar.

“He said he got beat up last night and was dumped there by whoever did it,” Monica said. “Can you hurry up?”

“Can’t go faster than the speed limit,” Tim said.

“Don’t you know any shortcuts?”

“Not going up there.”

“Take Oak Park then down Aurora to Denny then across town to Boylston,” Kiel said.

“You’ve been there, haven’t you?” I asked.

“Well, of course I have. I said I knew who owns the place.”

“What are you doing in a gay bar?” I asked. “You’re not old enough.”

“Eric and I helped repaint it one Sunday a couple years ago. I met some really neat guys, too.”

“Geoff, are you going to shut up or do I have to put you out of the car?” Tim asked, looking at us in the mirror. The car swerved a little and he overcorrected a little. Then a truck behind us honked its horn and Tim straightened up.

“Nice trick, did you learn that in driving school?” Monica asked.

“No, my dad taught me.”

“You can stop on the bridge if you want,” I said.

“Damn it, Geoff, you’re scaring me,” Tim said. The car swerved a little. The truck behind us honked.

“Me, too,” Monica added.

Heck, I was scaring myself. I looked over at Kiel. He smiled.

For the rest of the trip no one said anything. When we reached the corner blue and red lights were flashing. There were three police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck. Tim parked in the bar’s parking lot and we looked for the phone booth. I think we were all hoping the ambulance wasn’t there for Mark, but we all saw him lying on the stretcher while a policeman spoke to him.

“Mark!” Monica called out as she ran to him. A policeman held her back.

The three of us stayed in the background. I certainly didn’t want to get too close to any police after what I’d been through twice. There were probably a couple of them who knew me and I wasn’t in the mood to reminisce. Then I saw the blood in the phone booth.

“A friend of yours, honey?” A voice said behind me. When I turned around I couldn’t believe who I saw. He was a little over six feet with tight blue jeans and a loose flowery blouse open halfway down his hairless chest. Bright red lipstick, eye liner and shadow, and trimmed eyebrows were a dead giveaway.

“Dawling, is that you?” I asked.

“In the flesh, honey. You keeping that tight young ass of yours out of trouble?”

“Yeah, most of the time,” I said, accepting the light kisses on my cheeks. Darling, pronounced Dawling, smelled of the same cheap perfume my mother used.

“Are you going to introduce me to your cute friend?”

“Guys, this is Dawling. She helped me a lot when I was in the psych ward. Dawling, this is Tim and Kiel.”

“Hi, Tim, are you old enough to be up here with Geoff?” Darling asked. She ignored Kiel, he simply shrugged like he was used to being ignored.

“You’re a guy,” Tim said, his naïveté showing.

“We don’t say the g word, the b word, or the m word. Okay, honey?”

“But, you’re ...”

“Uh, uh, Geoff, honey, is this boy your friend, or what?”

“Tim hasn’t been around like me and, I guess, Kiel. So, how did you get out?”

“Promised to take my medicine, and I am, too. Are you doing okay, honey? I heard you were in County for a stabbing.”

“Yeah, I’m better. They stabbed me so I didn’t have to jump. Yeah, I was there for that reason, but I’m seeing a new shrink. He’s helping a lot.”

“Then you were on that bridge for that other reason.”

“Yeah, I was being stupid, again. But, Kiel and Tim are helping me.”

“Is Kiel that other one over there on the stretcher?” Darling asked, as she looked at Tim, who slowly shook his head until he noticed I was watching.

“No, that’s Mark,” I said, realizing Darling couldn’t see Kiel either. “He’s my girl friend’s boyfriend.”

“What?”

“Monica is my friend; she’s a girl, a real girl, so she’s my girl friend, two words. Mark is her boyfriend, as in one-word boyfriend. Who called the troops? He called Monica for us to come and get him.”

“He was bleeding. Tommy, he’s that real cute thing over there with all the muscles, was walking his poodle, who is the sweetest little thing. You should meet her. Anyway, Tommy saw the kid sitting in the phone booth bleeding from you know where.”

“Where?” Tim asked.

“From where you’re not supposed to bleed, ever, unless someone has done something very bad to you, Tim, honey.”

“Oh, yeah, okay, but jeez, what was Mark doing to have that done to him?”

“I’ll go find out,” I said, walking over to where Monica was talking to a policeman who looked vaguely familiar. The ambulance was just pulling away. There wasn’t a lot of blood, but what was there was noticeable. “Hey, Monica, any news about Mark?”

“Well if it isn’t the kid from the bridge,” the policeman said. “Was he your friend?”

“No, officer, Geoff is my friend,” Monica said. “Mark is my boyfriend.”

“Uh, huh.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. The policeman’s attitude made me nervous. He must have been assuming something about Mark simply because of the location. Or, maybe, I was just being paranoid. That’s the problem with mental illness, sometimes you’re simply depressed then you do something really stupid and everyone thinks you’re a fucking schizo.

“How’s Mark?” I asked, not caring who answered.

“From what the victim said, it sounds like you might have some mean ass football players at your high school,” the policeman said. “Of course, it’s a little early in the investigation to say exactly what happened.”

“Mark said he was at Coach Jorgenson’s,” Monica said. “He said they beat him up then pushed a broom handle up inside him. They were saying he was a homo because he sat at the Fairy Table for lunch.”

“Of course, nothing has been confirmed,” the policeman said.

“Are you ready to go?” I asked Monica. I’d had about enough of the policeman’s assumptions. If I stayed there any longer, someone was going to get into trouble and I didn’t need that.