Between Good And Evil - 2. Part I: The Blizzard: Chapter Two

1

At the young age of 11, Benjamin realized that there were two types of people in this world: those who were messed up and those who weren’t. The messed up ones-- he came to this conclusion one night while watching a breaking story on CNN about an anti-gay Republican politician caught in a gay affair-- often let their life spiral out of control due to shame over things that weren’t shameful or at all in their control. From that day forward, he promised himself that he would never be messed up, even though his life may seem to be. His mother was dead. His father was an asshole on a power trip. And, maybe worst of all, he was gay.

But Benjamin Bradley was never ashamed. From the time he was 7 years old and realized he liked looking at cute boys’ penises in the bathroom, Benjamin knew he was gay. He may not have been able to comprehend the subtleties of sexuality, but he knew he liked boys, not girls. When he turned 12 and could link his attraction to the same sex to the grand scheme of sexuality, he came to a decision. Benjamin Bradley would never be ashamed of his homosexuality.

I’m not in the closet. It’s more like I’m in the foyer, dressed up and waiting for some hot guy to take me out on a date, kiss me, love me, fuck my brains out, and live happily ever after with me.

The first obstacle Benjamin encountered was location. There were no openly gay people in Hidden Silver. There were no gay bars anywhere closer than Detroit, which was a six-hour drive away. What there was, was a pastor father who would probably kill Benjamin if he found out he was gay. Not because it went against his religious beliefs, no, the man wasn’t truly religious at all, but because it may hinder his quest for power.

Power was Pastor Bradley’s God, not some “Jew Arab that died 2000 years ago,” he’d often say when he was sure no one could hear.

So Benjamin kept his sexuality silent out of need. Alexa was helpful and remained the only person that knew about Benjamin’s secret -- though he never referred to it as his deep, dark secret.

When Blake White had asked about tutoring, Benjamin had been surprised. He couldn’t remember ever really having a conversation with the football team’s running back, and honestly, he never paid the dark haired teen much attention.

Blake White bored Benjamin.

Benjamin spent his time learning and getting good grades -- in his own quest for power, though he’d never admit it -- and couldn’t be bothered to associate with people that were happy to peak at 16. There was too much world outside of Hidden Silver to be stuck there forever. Benjamin hoped to see Paris or Africa or anything more than pine trees and snow.

When Blake White took Benjamin’s virginity, he also took Benjamin’s jaded view of the football star. Blake White was definitely interesting.

The sex was short and intense. Blake took the lead at the beginning and never relinquished control.

Benjamin’s first time left him feeling simultaneously empty and filled with excitement. The entire experience lasted less than ten minutes and was less than spectacular, yet Benjamin’s brain perceived the moment as momentous.

Still, Benjamin was left with the impression that Blake White was boring.

Through the entire act Blake seemed detached, like only his body was present while his mind checked out. Benjamin attributed this to the idiocy that was Blake White, who, although physically gifted, seemed to lack any brains or serious thought process.

It was only after the sex that Benjamin found himself intrigued by Blake.

“That was.... intense,” Benjamin had said while sitting naked next Blake on the bed, their sexual encounter only a few minutes old. There had been nothing but silence after Blake’s moaning and Benjamin struggled with it. He hated silence and always felt the need to break it whenever it appeared.

“Yeah.” Benjamin rolled his eyes at the short response and got up from the bed. He hoped to quickly dress and see Blake off. He didn’t want the awkwardness to last any longer. “Wait, where are you going? Can’t we just chill for a sec?”

Benjamin began to let out a sigh and then caught himself. That would be rude. And I don’t want to be one of those types of people. “Sure. Why not?” Benjamin replied and sat back down next to Blake.

The two were silent for another moment and then Blake opened up like a dumb flower that finally realized how to bloom.

The two talked for hours about random things. The conversion was rapid and shot from one subject to another: television to movies to sports.

Sometime after the first hour of conversation, Benjamin concluded that Blake White was actually quite intelligent, and he was intrigued.

The two finally drifted off to sleep, naked and cuddling. When Benjamin awoke the next morning, his bed was empty and Blake White was gone.

2

When Blake was 13, his parents hurried him off to some bible retreat for the summer. When he returned, he hadn’t been filled with the Holy Spirit, only Eric James, and it would traumatize him for years to come.

For almost a year before his trip to Jesusland, Blake had been noticing that something was wrong with him. His lack of attraction to females and the way he always wanted to look at the guys in the showers after gym had sent up warning signs. He didn’t want to be gay, and he didn’t want to go to Hell.

Throughout the year, Blake had been able to convince himself that his attractions were due to young age and newly active hormones. When Eric had come on to him one night in their cabin and Blake had reciprocated, the reality was too obvious to be ignored.

Blake White was gay and there was little he could do about it.

That thought lasted for the entire day after losing his virginity. Then, like he always did, Blake convinced himself that he could change his orientation through prayer, prayer and no sex with members of the same gender.

When he returned from Jesusland, Blake White threw himself into prayer, physical activity, and, eventually, vagina.

Repression had been a godsend for Blake, and he rarely acknowledged the fact that he was still gay. According to his thinking, as long as he had sex with girls and not boys, then he was not gay.

His second gay experience with Benjamin Bradley weighed more heavily on his conscious than the first. With Benjamin, there was the fact that his homosexuality once again reared its ugly head... and there was also the fact that Blake felt something for Benjamin.

Something that bordered on love.

3

When anger overtakes and controls, people say they see red. For Jeremy, there was nothing but black.

On the night Benjamin lost his virginity, Jeremy lost his mind. Or, more accurately, he lost control of his body to a separate entity sharing the same mind.

Like the night the first fissure slowly spread across his brain, Jeremy returned home to find Daddy Bitch in a bad mood. Jeremy’s mother was at work and Daddy Bitch filled his loneliness with Jim Beam.

The man had been quiet, almost passive, since their last encounter had ended with him on the losing end. But that night, Daddy Bitch seemed to find strength in numbers, and Jim and him confronted the boy as soon as he stepped through the front door.

“Where have you been? It’s almost 10 at fucking night.” He was in Jeremy’s face and his words traveled on a wind of liquor and cigarettes. Jeremy trembled; the voice in his head sprang to action. Kill or run, yes? He’s going to kill you. We will be no more, no.

The voice was there on a daily basis and Jeremy had learned to accept it in his life, almost like an annoying friend that refused to take the hint and leave.

No. We... I stand up to him. I’m done running and no violence is needed. He still remembers last time.

“I told mom I was going to chill with Blake before he had to go to tutoring. She knows where I was. “ Jeremy’s reply was firm but nice. He stood and looked Daddy Bitch in the eyes for a moment before turning towards the stairs.

Then Daddy Bitch and Jim pounced.

He wrapped his massive forearm around Jeremy and held him in a stranglehold. Jeremy felt the pain, noted the stink from the man’s armpit, and was then gone.

“You not hurt us anymore, no. You die now, yes.” It was Jeremy’s voice, but Daddy Bitch heard something in it, something foreign. Even through the drunken haze, the bear of a man realized something was off and relinquished his hold on the boy.

“Your eyes. What the fuck is wrong with your eyes?” Daddy Bitch asked, or more accurately, exclaimed as Jeremy spun around and faced the man. “Fire. It’s like fire that springs forth to cleanse the soul.” His words were slow, monotone, hypnotic.

“You see now, yes? You realize fate.” Jeremy stood for a long moment. His usually blue eyes were pure red and locked on to Daddy Bitch’s.

The voice realized Daddy Bitch was no longer a threat and fully under his control.

After a moment of stillness, Jeremy acted. He threw a fist at the large man’s face, connected, and was covered with a spray of blood that shot from the man’s nose. Small droplets of red puddled on Jeremy’s face, slid slightly, and began to drop to the floor.

In several spots, Jeremy’s face now matched his eyes.

There was no fight from the large man as Jeremy threw another fist. The punch connected with Daddy Bitch’s right cheek, and the inhuman force behind it caused the man to fall to the ground. Jeremy hovered above the man for a moment before driving his size 10 Nike into the man’s face three times.

In the moments before Daddy Bitch died, his mind was consumed by thoughts of fire and the need to be embraced by flames.

4

Sometime in the early morning, after watching the snow fall for hours, Blake transferred himself from the front porch to his bed. He had come to the decision that Benjamin Bradley was a temptation that must be ignored at all costs. He wasn’t gay, no matter how hard Benjamin tried to make it so.

And then his cell phone rang, the caller ID pushing him, unwillingly, back into reality, if only for a moment. Benjamin burned on the screen and Blake burned inside. He couldn’t let this little faggot try and turn him.

“Hello,” he answered with anger in his voice.

There was a pause. Blake could hear breathing on the other end and then, “Hey, ummm. I think we need to talk.”

There’s nothing to talk about, faggot. No words can make this shit okay. Blake was quiet for a moment as he debated. He could either hang up on the faggot or tell him off. He completely surprised himself by taking a third route that he hadn’t even known was an option a second before the words came out. “Look, just get over here, okay?”

Blake bit his lip and scolded himself. Impulse control was never his strong suit.

“Alright. Where is it? I-I don’t even know where you live.”

Blake continued to scold himself as he gave Benjamin directions and hung up the phone.

Had he known that Benjamin would die before he arrived, Blake wouldn’t have had so much trepidation about the encounter.

5

There had been anger in Blake’s voice when he first answered the phone, but it had been gone by the time he had given him directions to the house.

Benjamin was intrigued.

He set the house phone back on its cradle -- his father was the only one with a cell phone -- and pulled on his heavy coat and boots. He’d have to walk the mile to Blake’s house, but Benjamin didn’t mind. There were still only a few inches of snow on the ground and he figured that Blake could drive him back if the snow got too deep.

Decked out in his winter garb, Benjamin Bradley left the house 1 minute and 45 seconds before the phone rang, signaling the incoming call that would have saved his life.

6

30 seconds after Daddy Bitch passed into death, Jeremy passed from dark to light.

The first thing he saw was the giant man sprawled on the floor, blood pooling around him. Jeremy dropped to his knees and frantically looked for a pulse. Finding none, he sat next to the body, head in hands, and wept.

What have I done? What the fuck did I do?

Not you, me, yes. We are safe now.

Jeremy closed his eyes and attempted to strangle the tears. He didn’t respond to the voice. He simply got up, grabbed the bottle of vodka, and waited for his mother to return from her nightshift at the diner.

He took shot after shot, never moving off his bedroom floor. Somewhere around 3 in the morning, still somewhat sober, he came to the conclusion that he would get off due to insanity. By 6 in the morning, he had totally forgotten the whole ordeal, the liquor fully in control. He was running on autopilot as he brushed his teeth then set out for school.

7

Alexa Edwards first dreamt about death when she was six years old.

She was floating above Papaw’s living room, a place where she had spent many hours playing. In the corner was her toy box with her favorite doll, Lizzy, propped against its wooden frame. She was fully aware that she was dreaming and found that she could control herself.

As she floated towards Lizzy, she heard thumps and turned.

Papaw had fallen down the stairs and landed in the foyer. His head was turned unnaturally to the side and Alexa screamed.

Upon waking, she trembled in her bed. She had had nightmares before, but never about death, which, even at six years old, she knew she had just witnessed.

The next day, when her Papaw slipped from the top step, tumbled down, broke his neck and died, Alexa didn’t mention the dream. Deep down, she knew that it had to be kept a secret, though she didn’t understand why.

There had been other prophetic dreams. When Alexa was 11, her mother lost her car keys, and she dreamt that they were in the freezer, behind the groceries that she had been unloading at the time she had placed them there. The next morning, Alexa found them and told her mother that she discovered them while rummaging around for food.

There had been other dreams about lost items, movie endings, and petty crimes, but there hadn’t been any others about death.

Until the morning the blizzard started.

Again, she was floating, a movie camera above a wintry scene taking place on a road. A moment before Benjamin came into view, she came to the realization that the road was Elk, a small side street that connected Benjamin’s subdivision to Main.

Alexa allowed herself to float for a moment, waiting to see the reason for the dream.

A black pickup swerved its way up Main as Benjamin reached the corner. Everything clicked and Alexa tried to move herself toward Benjamin as she screamed.

The truck swerved, jumped the curb, and struck Benjamin.

Alexa once again awoke with a scream, but unlike last time, she decided that she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

She reached for her cell and scrolled though her call log. Once she found Benjamin’s number, she listened to he phone ring and ring.

Fuck. What the fuck. Where is he? Unless... unless he left already.

She hung up the phone and quickly dressed, determined to find Benjamin and save his life.