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

2014 - Winter - Chain Reaction Entry

Getting to the Happily Ever After - 2. Byrum, MS

Warning: this chapter has references to "off camera" abuse of a minor.

byram_ms.jpg

 

July 10, 1978

 

Randy pretty much had everything he owned in his shiny new red Silverado short bed truck.

 

The tears had been shed; business had been tended to, and now was the time he thought of as his exile.

 

Brad Miloy had been good as his word. He had handled things just as he had promised. Trust funds had been set up for Randy and his older brother, and they were substantial. Rather than breaking up the firm to buy out their father’s share, the brothers both owned a half-partner’s share that paid into their trust funds every quarter.

 

Randy’s brother Rod had elected to go back to summer school. It made sense but, Randy still would have much rather had his brother with him— at least for the summer. He wouldn’t see Lee or the rest of the Miloy family until Christmas break.

 

He wasn’t thrilled about spending his junior and senior year in a little town in Mississippi. He had visited his grandparents a number of times. It wasn’t bad for weekends or Thanksgiving, but he wasn’t sure about living there. Byrum was just outside the state capital of Jackson. Neither were big towns by Texas standards, and Byrum was even on the small side for Mississippi.

 

Appropriately enough, when he exited I-55 to Byrum, the Eagles New Kid in Town was playing on the radio. The public high school was right off the highway exit, and then he took a long country road to the subdivision where his grandparents lived. The houses were big colonials with sprawling well-kept yards set around a picturesque lake. There were a few kids on bikes and big white ducks waddling around the lake. When he passed the turn to his grandparents’ place, there was a huge strawberry-blond high-school kid mowing one of the big lawns.

 

The kid looked up and waved— it was that kind of town. Randy parked his truck in the grandparents’ driveway and got out. He waved to his new neighbor and started unpacking.

 

The grandparents were pretty easy-going. He had stayed with them numerous times. They gave him the room he always stayed in. Over the course of the afternoon, the room took shape. As he worked, he listened to the local rock station which turned out to be pretty good. Soon the room began to look like his place with Longhorn and Cowboys posters and all.

 

Grandma Jordan outdid herself with their first supper in the new place. She cooked fried chicken, rice and gravy, peas, fresh tomatoes and something she called jalapeño cornbread. It wasn’t that his mom or Mrs. Miloy were bad cooks. Grandma Jordan had a lot more practice, and she was showing off.

 

The next day Randy gassed up his truck, got an area map and began exploring. The biggest change was how green the place was. The towering pines and hardwoods were quite the contrast to the scrub oak of his home. It wasn’t just woods— it was jungle with thick undergrowth everywhere. The hills were gentler, but the humidity was absolutely wicked.

 

He stopped by Byrum Academy about ten a.m. and handed over his transcript. They took one look at it and accepted him on the spot. They were a little taken aback when he pulled out his checkbook and paid his $1100 tuition for the fall semester.

 

Driving around in Jackson, he found a decent mall and a barbecue place that was as good as any he had found in Texas.

 

The next day he mowed his grandparents’ lawn and saw his neighbor again. He was driving a big, old Dodge truck and had three younger teens with him. The youngest of the three caught his eye. The boy was wearing silver gray shorts with red trim and had long, jet-black hair with curls. There was no way to describe him as anything but pretty.

 

Another thing he noticed as he saw the group: the big strawberry-blond was definitely the alpha dog in that pack. The other two boys were darned good looking too. They were both tall, thin with light but defined muscles. The one with dark hair was a little taller than his platinum blond friend.

 

Randy waved, and all four waved back. They followed the big fellow into the house three lots down.

 

It took Randy about a half hour to finish the yard. He was dirty and washed off at the hose. He went inside, took a quick shower and put on some white tennis shorts and an Orange University of Texas jersey and decided to walk over to meet his neighbor.

 

He rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. From the splashing, laughing and music that he was hearing, they were around back in the pool.

Randy walked around the house and smelt a very familiar odor. The Cars Just What I Needed was playing moderately loud. He began to grin a little. Maybe he wasn’t stuck in Mayberry after all.

 

A big smiling Labrador retriever walked up to Randy, planted his nose right in his crotch and took a big sniff. The dog stood like a wall in his way and only let him pass after what appeared to be required petting.

 

After reaching the gate to the back yard, Randy yelled, “Hello!”

 

There was some scuffling and someone said, “Just a minute. Be right there.”

 

To Randy it seemed a bit like a quick clean-up was going on because an unknown was crashing the party. A moment later the big strawberry blond kid opened the gate with a rebel flag beach towel around his waist.

 

He took one look at Randy and said, “Hi. You must be our new neighbor. Come on in.”

 

Randy followed the big kid into the gated back yard. It was neat and had a well-appointed pool surrounded by a concrete patio that adjoined a covered deck and patio for the house. There was a grill, and the other boys were all there either in or out of the pool.

 

The big guy said, “I’m Jim, and this is Alex, Clay and Travis. Welcome to Byrum. Where are you from?”

 

“I’m Randy Taylor. I’m from Denton, Texas— a little town just North of Dallas. I came to live with my grandparents until college.”

 

The little one called Travis said, “That’s a sweet truck you’ve got.”

 

“Thanks. Its stock, but it did pretty well on the trip over.”

 

Jim asked, “Follow me to the kitchen, Randy. I was just going to get some cold drinks out of the kitchen.”

 

Randy followed him inside and as soon as they were indoors, Jim said, “I was hoping that you would come by. I heard what happened to your parents. You have my condolences. I’ve known the Jordans for years and like them. I even met your mother once. She was a very fine lady.”

 

“I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others because that’s your business.”

 

Randy was quiet for a moment and said, “Thanks, man. It’s been a hard summer.”

 

“Just so you know, your grandparents didn’t arrange things— I heard the news from another neighbor.”

 

Jim pulled a big pitcher of lemonade out of the fridge and started pouring up five glasses and said, “There’s something you should know about this group: all of us have been hurt pretty bad in one way or another. None of us are really kin, but we’re more family to each other than a lot of our blood relatives.”

 

Randy said, “When I first saw the four of you, I figured y’all were family.”

 

Jim chuckled and replied, “Might as well be.” He got real serious for a moment and said, “Are you cool?”

 

Randy grinned and said, “I was sure hoping you were going to ask. Yeah… I like what you had on the grill.”

 

Jim blushed and was a little flustered, “We’ve got some… shall we say, peculiar traditions. Just roll with it. There’s no cross burning or devil worshipping. Nobody ever has to do anything they don’t want. We’re… uh… bad, not evil.”

 

Randy picked up the platter the cups were sitting on and said, “Dude, I used to hang with a really fast North Dallas crowd with a lot more money than brains. It would take— I don’t know— human sacrifice or something really off-the-wall to shock me.”

 

Jim said, “Good. I wouldn’t want to run you off on your first day here.”

 

Travis appeared in the kitchen with his long jet-black curls wet and a towel around his waist and said, “No human sacrifices? What is this coven coming to?”

 

Jim shrugged, and they took the drinks out to the sun room just inside the patio. A ceiling fan was turning languidly stirring the warm air in what Randy noticed was a very private area. He sat down at the table and said, “Randy just moved in with his grandparents. Let’s show him some hospitality. Whose turn is it?”

 

Clay, the tall kid with dark hair said, “It’s on me.” He pulled out a tray with a clear red plastic bong and began loading bowls.”

 

The platinum blond kid said, “Welcome Randy- I’m Alex. The bong-master here is Clay and curly here”— he indicated the younger boy— “is Travis.”

 

Randy sat back and said, “I’m really glad to meet you. I don’t know anybody over here. It’s just good luck to fall into good company on my second day here.”

 

Clay snorted. He handed the bong to Randy and said, “That’s a matter of opinion. Some people don’t think much of us.”

 

Alex looked at Clay, and his face clouded.

 

Randy took the bong hit, held it and let it go like an old pro. He said, “I like to decide for myself and so far y’all seem pretty cool to me.”

 

The bong made the rounds about four times, and the conversation wandered. Travis got up and put a new tape in the portable stereo. It was Kansas.

 

I close my eyes only for a moment, and the moment's gone
All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind

 

Travis hadn’t known or meant any harm. He had no idea that those words would strike Randy’s open wounds like a brick.

 

Randy started shaking and tears ran down his face. In short order he was sobbing uncontrollably. There was a discontinuity as the grief overwhelmed him. When he found his wits again, he found himself surrounded in the arms of all four of his new friends.

 

He gathered his senses and said, “I’m sorry. That song— every time I think I’ve got it together, I hear it and lose it.”

 

Jim said, “Tell them what happened, Randy. It will help.”

 

Randy sobbed and said, “This past May I was in school one day out of the blue they called me to the office and told me that my parents had been killed in an accident. Not only did I lose my family, I had to leave all my friends behind just when I needed them the most.”

 

Jim said, “Inside I told you that all of us were hurt pretty bad in one way or another. Listen to us and tell me if you feel like you belong.”

 

Alex said, “My dad was shot down in Vietnam in December 1972. He was listed as Missing in Action, and my mom never got over it. Now she runs a trailer park for my grandfather and drinks all the time.”

 

Clay said, “My father killed a man and is in prison. My mom works all the time but she can barely pay the bills.”

 

Travis had tears running down his face and said, “I’m sorry I picked that tape. I didn’t mean for it to hurt—”

 

Jim reached over and put a hand on Travis’s shoulder and said, “Easy there, he knows you didn’t do it on purpose.”

 

Travis sniffed and said, “My mom is a junkie whore. She brings home all sorts of men and some of them were more interested in me. One of the bastards tied me up and…”

 

Jim said, “It’s OK. You don’t need—“

 

Travis said, “Yeah. I do. I’m tired of being angry and afraid all the time. It’s like you are always telling us Jim: sayin’ it gets the poison out. He tied me up and fucked me, and when I cried, he burned me with cigarettes on my privates. I think he planned to kill me, but he got caught before he could. They arrested him, and he went to prison, but I still have nightmares.”

 

That was a gut punch to Randy. He found himself hugging Travis close wondering what other horrors that sweet little kid had seen.

 

Finally Jim said, “When I was in seventh grade, my best friend and I were fooling around. Wasn’t really anything especially serious, but someone told my parents, and they went ape shit. It got me and all of my friends in a shitload of trouble. My dad kicked my ass, and my mom cried all the time and kept reciting bible verses. They— my dad took a job in Washington, and had connections enough to take my mom with him. They work together for a new agency that is being put together to respond to disasters. They left me here to take care of the house and go to school but basically… they just don’t want me anymore.”

 

By this point everyone had a sob in their throats and a tear in their eye and Jim said, “So Randy, you think maybe you are in the right place?”

 

The tears were still there and Randy said, “Yeah. I think I am in the right place.”

 

Jim helped him up and said, “Well come on, let’s get in the water.”

 

They stood beside the pool and Jim said, “There’s one other thing. We were skinny dipping when you arrived.”

 

Randy grinned, kicked off his shoes and dropped his shirt and shorts. For the first time in a quite a while he laughed, smiled, and played like a kid again.

 

Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad place to heal and grow up a little. It really was possible to have fun again.

 

That night, Jim had to work and Randy stayed with the boys. They watched TV for a while, but it was boring. Clay and Travis were asleep on the couch, so Randy and Alex went out and sat in the chairs around the pool. The radio finished Jackson Browne’s Running on Empty and started the Rolling Stone’s Miss You.

 

Alex said, “I bet you’ve got about a million questions so— here’s your chance.”

 

Randy asked, “How did you guys meet and get so tight?”

 

Alex took a long look up at the stars and said, “It’s not a pretty story. Are you sure you want to know?”

 

Randy said, “The way you guys took care of me this afternoon, I know what kind of people you are. Besides, the way I boned up this afternoon skinny-dipping with you guys, I don’t think we have too many secrets left.”

 

Alex laughed and said, “Yeah, that was kind of impressive. OK. You asked for it. Clay and I have been buds for a long time- I think we met when we were like eight. We live in the shitty trailer park my mom runs on the road to Jackson.”

 

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and continued, “There’s this old run-down park close to the trailer park. People told us to stay away from it but didn’t tell us why, so we were curious about it. When I was thirteen I took off on my bike and went to explore it. There were a lot of cars driving around and this old guy in a Caddy pulled up and offered me a twenty if I would let him suck my dick. At first I got scared and was about to run for it but he offered another twenty. Well— who doesn’t like having their dick sucked, and I had never had more than $5 so I let him.”

 

“I found out that park was what a lot of gay people call a cruise. They go there to meet and greet and try to get their freak on. A lot of them like young guys and will pay— a lot— for sex with young guys. Not long afterwards Clay made the same discovery, and we figured out we were doing the same thing.”

 

“We went down to the park together and watched each other’s backs. One day Travis followed us out there. Basically— we were hungry and broke all the time, so we became hustlers.”

 

Randy asked, “Are you gay?”

 

Alex said, “When we were doing that in the park, we didn’t really see it that way. It was just something we did to make money. Later on I figured out that I am. Jim is. Clay and Travis are bi.”

 

“Anyway, things changed about a year ago when we met Jim. We were out there trickin’ one Saturday and he was sitting in his car smoking a joint and just watching the freak show is what he said. I think we shocked him when he found out what we were doing and why. He started meeting us out there, and he always had food or he would take us fishing— looking back, he was doing anything he could to get us out of there. He genuinely cared about us and we could tell. He really freaked us out when he took us one-by-one and bought us new clothes.”

 

“Little by little we didn’t need the park anymore. Jim used his connections to get Clay and me jobs. We didn’t have to do that anymore— unless we just wanted to for fun.”

 

Randy said, “Jim sounds like a real stand up guy.”

 

Alex said, “Yeah, he is. If he likes you, he’ll do anything for you. But when we met, he was one of the most lost people I’ve ever seen.”

Randy asked, “What do you mean?”

 

“He was lonely in the worst sort of way. People shunned him. He got in a lot of fights and let me tell you this about him— if you ever see him fight it will scare the living shit out of you. Somebody tried to get rough with Travis one day at the park, and Jim landed on him like the wrath of an angry God.”

 

“He had a real dark side for a while. Religion did a real number on his head. He thought because he was gay he was evil. He was hooked up with some really bad people and was strung out on pills. The reason he has money is that he’s a grower.”

 

Randy asked, “What’s that?”

 

“He grows weed in secret places and harvests it in the fall. Then he keeps what he wants for his own use and sells the rest to his connections. He’s smart as hell about it. He never buys weed, so he’s never around dealers. He never sells any except wholesale, so the cops don’t have any way to get close to him. Besides— I’m pretty sure that some of the people he’s hooked up with are cops.”

 

“No way.”

 

“Yes way. I worry that he’s in over his head sometimes, but he never does anything stupid. He’s a very smart operator and the people he works for have to respect that.”

 

“In a way, it was as good for Jim as it was for us that we got hooked up. He needed someone or something to care about and for the last year that has been us. He quit the harder drugs he was doing and cut way back on his drinking.”

 

Randy said, “I don’t know what to say. You’re all amazing and Jim…”

 

Alex said, “I’m serious as a heart attack when I say this but I think— no, I am sure— that Jim saved our lives by getting us out of that park. It was only a matter of time before some psycho killed one or more of us. I want to ask one thing of you.”

 

Randy said, “What can I do to help?”

 

“This fall you are going to the same school as Jim. I wish we all could, but we can’t. By being there, you’ve got a chance to help him. Last year he tried not to show it but we could all tell those people hurt him.”

 

Randy asked, “What did they do to him?”

 

Alex said, “You’ve met Jim. You’ve seen how he is with us. He may look tough and in a way he is, but he’s really gentle and sensitive. They won’t fight him. They’re way too chicken-shit for that. They just constantly harass him and treat him like shit. It wears him down.”

 

Randy sighed and said, “I’m not sure what I can do Alex but, I promise that I’ll try. I think the big guy has earned himself a break or two.”

 

 

The next morning Randy waited until nine a.m. and called Brad Miloy at his office.

 

His secretary answered and put the call through with minimal delay.

 

Brad answered, “Randy, how are things going over in Mississippi?”

 

“Not too bad Mr. Miloy. I got registered for school a few days ago, and I found out that they have academic scholarships at Byrum Academy for needy students, but they don’t have any money to fund them. As you are the executor of my trust, I wanted to ask if it would be possible if we could put some money in their scholarship fund.”

 

Brad said, “You know I was going over the estate taxes the other day, and we do need to make some charitable contributions— some substantial ones really to keep the federal estate taxes at bay. How much does a year cost at B.A.?”

 

“I wrote a check for $1100 to cover the fall term. I think that comes out to $2200 per year.”

Brad said, “Is that all?”

 

Randy replied, “This is Mississippi. It seems like everything is a little cheaper over here.”

 

He could hear Brad pecking away at his desk calculator and then he said, “How does this sound: we fund 10 seats at $22K this year and the next. That keeps the estate taxes from kicking in and gets your good deed done.”

 

“Great! How soon can we move on this? It’s just a few months until fall semester.”

 

Brad said, “The sooner the better. Let the people at B.A. know what we’re thinking about and give them my contact info. They can call me and I’ll get the ball rolling.”

 

That afternoon Randy stopped by and told an astonished principal that his father’s estate was going to fund those vacant academic scholarship slots. Randy gave the principal Brad Miloy’s number at his Dallas office, and then gave him three suggestions for potential new students: Alex Hart, Clay Meadows and Travis Sutherland.

 

Randy asked for only one condition: that the source of the donation remain anonymous.

Warning: this chapter has references to "off camera" abuse of a minor.
Copyright © 2014 jamessavik; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

2014 - Winter - Chain Reaction Entry
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Byram is practically in my back door if you go through the woods. :P

You find out throughout life that there's a lot of people dealing with bad things and for some reason he helps us to deal with our own issues.

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I was just gonna ask how Jim could afford to go to a private academy for school, but then I remembered that his invisible folks must make good money, plus the money he makes as a grower.

 

I'm glad Randy fits right in. :) Randy sounds like a younger version of Jim; I think given the chance, Jim would have done the exact same thing for his friends.

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