Published: 16 Dec 2019
Bobby’s Story
Bobby
When I woke up, I was lying on … a kitchen table? I really felt weird. I didn’t know where I was. Why was I in somebody’s kitchen? There was a guy and a kid standing at the sink. I think I recognized the kid. The guy was washing the kid’s hands and arms, and saying stuff like, “What made you think you could put your hands through safety glass without getting cut?” and “Stop whining. If I don’t get the glass out of the cuts, you’ll be scarred for life.”
Nemesis
It was hard to argue with that. The kid whose place I had taken as Nemesis said I would be immortal. I wasn’t sure I wanted to have scars for that long. It hurt, too, but the guy was gentle. I watched him clean the cuts. I also stared at him. The muscles of his arms were ripped; he probably spent a lot of time in the gym. I wondered … what it would be like to be a 12-year-old getting fucked by a man like him? It was something I’d dreamed about when I was 12, and the exact opposite of what I’d dreamed about as I got older. When did that change? Why did it change? I had never wondered about that, before.
We both heard the gasp from the kid on the kitchen island when he woke up.
The man turned. “Welcome to the world. As soon as I finish here, we’ll take care of you, okay? Your nosebleed has stopped, but you really need to be cleaned up.” He smiled.
“Yes, please. Who are you?” the kid asked. He was looking at me.
“Um, I’m the guy who pulled you out of the car…”
“I saw you … you broke the window … did you kill him?”
“Yes.”
“Who are you, and why is your T-shirt all torn? Did he do that?”
“Uh, my name is Nemesis,” I said. I was still a little shaky about saying that. “And it’s not a T-shirt, it’s a chiton, and it’s not torn … that’s the way it’s supposed to be.” The chiton covered only my right shoulder, leaving my left shoulder, both arms, and most of my chest bare. Not that there was much to see. Despite my super strength, I was pretty skinny and had almost no obvious muscles. I was just the kind of little boy I used to dream about.
Gary
Nemesis, he said. Like the planet or dark star that people once thought visited Earth periodically to create havoc and destruction. I saw him put his hands through the car window and then pull the man halfway out; I saw him spring the hinges on the passenger door when he opened it. I saw the way the guy in the Mustang treated him. I’m watching his cuts heal as fast as I clean them. He’s more than human, but … what is he?
“Nemesis,” I said. “Means destroyer or dark destroyer, doesn’t it?”
The boy in the chiton looked at me. His eyes … his eyes were older than the rest of him. I wondered how he would answer.
Nemesis
“I don’t know about destroying; I was told that I was justice and retribution.”
The man nodded. “I’m Gary, by the way. And justice and retribution are a lot easier to understand and accept than destroyer. But who was the guy in the Mustang?”
“Death,” I said.
The man nodded again. “Figured he was something more than ordinary, just like you.”
“Why were you there? Why did you help us?” I asked.
“The shopping center was for rent; I thought I’d take a look,” Gary said.
“That’s why you were there,” I said. I was amazed at my perspicacity – and courage. I wasn’t accustomed to being courageous. “Why did you help us?”
“I wish I could tell you in a way you would understand,” the man said. He looked at me, and then he looked way past me. His eyes sort of unfocused, as if he were thinking. Finally, he said, “I saw two boys, hurt. I believed I could help them. I wanted to help them.”
He has the same feelings I used to have – to help a helpless boy. But he has the courage to do it … courage that I never had. I am such a loser!
“I understand,” I said. “I really do.” I put my arms around the man and hugged him. “I really do. Thank you.”
I realized then that the cuts, the long gashes on my arms he had cleaned, were healed. There were no marks to show where they had been.
Gary
I was startled when the boy who called himself Nemesis hugged me, but not too startled to hug back. We stood like that for a moment: his head pressed against my chest; my nose buried in a mop of honey-colored curls. The moment was interrupted by the boy on the kitchen island.
“Are you guys gay or something?”
My first reaction was to push Nemesis away, and I almost did before he hugged me tighter … a lot tighter … so tight, I couldn’t push him away. The kid was strong, but I had seen that. It didn’t seem like he was going to say anything, so I answered.
“I am,” I said. “But that’s not why we’re hugging. Sometimes, hugs are just for comfort, for feeling good, without sex.” Then, I froze. Why did I say that! I’ve spent the past 15 years hiding I was gay … why now, and why to a couple of kids I don’t even know?
Nemesis looked up at me. I was shaking. I opened my arms. “We need to take care of … ”
I looked at the boy, and asked, “What’s your name, anyway?”
“I’m Bobby,” he said. “Are you two boyfriends?”
The boy in the torn T-shirt stopped hugging the man, and turned away.
The man answered, but he said it to Nemesis and not to Bobby. “No. Not now, and maybe never. We just met, and you don’t get to be friends right away. It’s something you have to explore.”
Nemesis
What a coward I still am! I should have said ‘yes, I’m gay,’ and ‘yes, we’re boyfriends,’ even if we weren’t and probably never can be. I should have had the courage to say something! I started crying. Immortal god of Retribution, and I’m still a coward.
Gary
I was careful to say ‘friends’ and not ‘boyfriends’ when Bobby asked. There was no way I could be ‘boyfriends’ with a 12-year old … no matter how much I wanted to. Plus, there was something … no, a lot of things … funny about this kid who calls himself Nemesis. He may not be an avatar of Justice and Retribution, and the guy in the Mustang might not be Death, but they are something different. He gave me a genuine hug, but he’s afraid of something. And he’s crying.
I put my hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Let’s talk later, okay?” In a normal voice, I added, “Will you get Bobby cleaned up?”
We took Bobby down the hall, got his clothes off, and put him in the tub. Nemesis knelt on the floor, helping Bobby with body wash and loofa and brush. I ran cold water in the sink and put Bobby’s clothes in to soak. I added my shirt. There was blood on my khakis, too. I took them off and added them to the sink. Nemesis noticed, and stared. The boy may not be gay, and he may not want to be boyfriends, but he sure is interested.
Nemesis
Whoa! What a bod! He’s definitely a gym rat! And if that bulge in his y-fronts is any indication, I’m not sure I want to be fucked by him. On the other hand … I felt something deep inside me, and shivered. Then, Bobby demanded my attention. He wanted me to wash his back. A dilemma: stare at a nearly naked man or wash a little boy’s back. I turned to Bobby while my own erection hardened under the chiton. I’ve got to get some underwear, I thought. I can’t be poking out the front of this thing. Then I realized I was 12 years old, and my dick was only three inches, hard. I’d checked while I was cleaning up the motel room and admiring my butt. Still, I didn’t like the notion of walking around with a stiffy under my chiton. Hmm. Maybe I did. I’d have to think about it.
Gary
I watched Nemesis’ eyes widen when he saw me. He was as attracted to me as I was to him. Yes, I was attracted to him physically. But there was also the emotional attraction, the desire to help him that I use to sublimate the physical attraction I have to young boys. Still, my erection was becoming right obvious and painful in my briefs.
“Guys, I’m going to go to the other bathroom and shower. When you two get cleaned up, go to the bedroom. I’ll put some gym shorts and T-shirts on the bed for you. We’ll get some other clothes for you, soon, okay?
The boys nodded.
Nemesis
I rinsed Bobby with the spray nozzle on a hose. I thought we were through, until Bobby spoke.
“He said for you to get clean, too,” Bobby said. “Do you want to get in the tub with me? There’s lots of room.”
It was tempting, and I yielded to temptation. The tub was just big enough for two 12-year-olds to be comfortably close. Bobby scrubbed my back; we got erections. Even though Bobby was already clean, I rubbed body wash on him. He rubbed body wash on me. But, neither of us was bold enough to touch the thing we wanted to touch, the thing we wanted the other to touch. Like I said, I’m a coward.
Bobby
He didn’t say he was gay, like the man did, but I think he wanted to touch my stiffy. I wanted him to touch it, but he wouldn’t. I kind of pushed it toward him, but he kept backing away. I didn’t want to be first. I was afraid.
When we were dry, we found the clothes like the man said. They were big on us, but the shorts had drawstrings, so at least they wouldn’t fall down. The other boy put on his funny skirt thing.
The man came into the room about the time we were dressed and asked how we were. I said, “Hungry.” Nemesis didn’t say anything, but nodded.
“I’ve called someone to get you both some new clothes,” he said. “They’ll be delivered in an hour or so. Let’s see what we can find in the kitchen.”
Gary
My iPhone has a huge contacts list … partly because of my businesses and partly because, well, I like people and found it easy to get along with a lot of different folks. I punched the number of Isaac, who works at the department store. He didn’t ask why I needed clothes in kid sizes, but promised to have them delivered quickly.
Bobby was happy to get into new cargo shorts, a pullover shirt, white sox and trainers. Nemesis, however, thanked me for the clothes, and then said he was supposed to wear the chiton and sandals. I nodded, and put the clothes in a bag, in case he changed his mind.
“Now, guys,” I said. “We need to talk. If you don’t want to talk in front of one another, one of you can watch television while the other talks, but I do want to hear from both of you. I need to know why you were there, and what you want to happen, next. Who’s first?”
Bobby pressed his lips in a thin, hard line then looked at Nemesis. “I’ll go first. And it’s okay if he hears.”
Bobby
“My mother died when I was eight. My father got married again. My stepmother never liked me. When my father died, she kept me around because I got money from a social security survivor check. Then, she got married. She and her new husband figured I wasn’t related to either of them. They told me … they told that I was more trouble than a $400-a-month government check! And then they kicked me out of the house.
“I lived with a friend for a while, but his family couldn’t afford to feed themselves, much less me, too, so I tried to get some money. I was … begging, I guess you’d say … near the Mercantile when this guy came up. He said he’d buy me lunch, so I went with him. His car was in a parking garage … it was dark. He played with himself … and …put his hand inside my shorts … and then pushed me onto the floor of the front seat. He hit me, a couple of times. He drove to another place. The guy hit me a couple of more times. Then, the car stopped and Nemesis stuck his hands through the window and killed the guy.
“You’re like a super-hero or an X-person, aren’t you?”
Nemesis
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell this kid and the man I was a god. They’d never believe it. I wasn’t sure I believed it.
“Nemesis?” Gary looked at me. “He’s thinking in the right direction, but hasn’t quite gotten it, has he? You’re more like one of the kids in the Riordan stories, children of the gods?”
I had no idea what Riordan stories meant, but I did understand children of the gods. Perhaps that would be the way to answer.
“Yeah, sort of. I’m the son of Nemesis, the goddess of vengeance, and a mortal father. I can do some things … I’m not sure what all, because I just found out, today. I heard Bobby … I saw the man hit him … I … I had to stop him.”
Gary and Bobby bought the story.
“Is that why you have to wear the chiton?” Bobby asked. Clever kid, I thought.
“I think so. Actually, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do and what I’m supposed to not do. Like when I killed that guy … and … ” I didn’t want to talk about Death in front of Bobby.
“I don’t know what the rules are,” I said. “I’m afraid to do anything.”
Gary
Nemesis’ answer was too pat. He was too quick to latch on to the notion of a child of the gods. I wish I hadn’t given him the idea. He was still troubled. He just found out who or what he was, and wasn’t sure even of that.
I learned why the boys were at the shopping center … if I can believe Nemesis’ story. Now, I have to learn what they want to happen, next.
Before I could ask what Nemesis and Bobby wanted, the doorbell rang.
“Guys? How about making yourselves scarce? In the bedroom. Please keep quiet.” The boys nodded.
Two policemen stood at the door. That they were policemen wasn’t obvious at first. They were in civilian clothes, but the gold detective badges on their belts were pretty convincing. I invited them into the living room.
“Sir, your vehicle was seen in the vicinity of a homicide earlier today. Can you tell us anything about that?”
A leading question, I thought. But they didn’t Mirandize me. “Behind the abandoned shopping center on _____ Street,” I said.
“How … ?” The first cop was genuinely puzzled.
“Because that was the only place I was, other than home, and because I saw a car parked there, and a second car drive up. The second car was wrong, bad. Matte black mustang. Dark windows. No chrome, not even the emblem on the grill. I had a bad feeling, and left immediately. I came straight home.”
“What do you mean, bad feeling,” the second cop asked.
“It was a feeling like one that saved my life before … in Afghanistan. You see a car that’s a little out of the ordinary, and wonder if it’s a suicide bomber; you get a feeling for things like that – or you die.”
“Afghanistan?”
“Yes, Army. Special Forces. Two tours. Took a couple of bullets in my hip that shattered the bone. It’s part titanium, now. Discharged.”
The cops quizzed me about the two cars. I answered as factually as possible up to the point when I’d seen a kid pulling some guy’s head through the window. They pressed me on why I left; I said the same thing, there was something wrong about the Mustang.
“Anyone see you when you got back here?”
“I live alone.” It wasn’t quite a lie.
They gave me their business cards, and I escorted them to the door. “Guys, I know you can’t talk about an ongoing investigation, especially with a witness or a person of interest. I am a person of interest, aren’t I?”
I got a chagrined look from one cop. “Not really. We know who you are. You don’t have a reputation for anything to do with drugs. We figure it was a drug deal gone bad.”
He had told me more than I was entitled to know. I thanked them, shook their hands, and watched their car pull away.
Cops
“What the heck! You let him off … just because he said he was in Afghanistan—” one cop began.
“Don’t you know who he is?” The other interrupted. When the first cop shook his head, the second continued. “Gary Walters … played two years for the Cubs before he was called up. Army Reserve. Took an eight million dollar a year cut in salary from baseball star to Army first lieutenant. Got shot up … He works with some charity, now. Helping kids. There’s no way he would be involved in a drug deal.”
Gary
The boys were sitting, side-by-side, on the bed. Their hips and shoulders touched. I think Bobby wanted a hug, but was afraid to ask. I think Nemesis wanted to hug Bobby, but was afraid to do it.
“Guys? Come on back to the living room, please. We still have things to talk about.”
“Bobby, what do you want to happen, next? What would you like your life to be like?”
The boy looked askance. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrow. I had asked that question many times. Bobby’s answer was typical. So was his cynicism.
“I want a real mommy and daddy. I want to live in a nice house and have friends. I want to go to a school where I won’t get picked on. I want to wear clean clothes every day and eat something besides cereal. There’s a lot more, but since none of it’s going to happen, there’s no sense in telling you.” He pressed his lips together. His nose flared. His eyes widened. He was challenging me.
“You’re right, Bobby. It’s not going to happen. At least, not right away. It will take some time to find a mommy and a daddy for a boy your age … and we can’t even start looking until Family Services assigns you to me. As soon as they do, I will make sure you go to a good school, and have clean clothes and good food. I think I can find you some friends, too. If you want. If you’ll agree to a few rules.”
I told him about Erewhon. It had been a private, boarding school, north of the city, on the lake. It went bankrupt when the depression hit hard. The foundation bought it, and turned it into a shelter for boys … boys that had been abandoned, abused, and thrown away.
“You’ll share a room with one or two other boys, sometimes three. At first, you’ll be assigned to a room; after you get to know each other, you and other boys will decide who to room with.
“You’ll eat in a dining hall and go to school, play sports, and go on field trips.
“There are only four rules: treat others the way you want to be treated; take care of your own space and your own mess; a kindness is always repaid; and, make me proud.
“Do you think you can agree to those rules?”
“Make you proud?” Bobby asked.
“Yes,” I said. “That’s the most important rule. I want to be proud of what you do and what you become, even after you leave the school, and for the rest of your life.”
Bobby nodded. “Yes, I can do that. But I still want a mommy and a daddy.”
I held out my arms, and he came to me. I hugged him; he hugged back. He put his head on my chest. I felt him shaking. “Until we find your mommy and daddy, Bobby, I will always hug you. You’ll get hugs at Erewhon, too, from the tutors and from other boys.
“Some of the boys will want hugs from you. It’s okay to give them. Some of the boys won’t want to touch another boy, much less hug him. That’s okay, too. Remember … treat others as you want to be treated.”
Bobby nodded. I opened my arms and released him.
Bobby turned to Nemesis. “Want a hug?” Nemesis nodded. I could see from across the room that it was a good hug.
Nemesis
Bobby’s hug was a good one … I felt his concern, I felt his love, and I felt a little bit of lust. He was trying to hide that part. All I could do was hug back. I wanted to kiss him; but, I’m still a coward. Besides, am I a 12-year-old boy, or am I a 46-year-old man? More and more I’m forgetting who I was, but I still know that I was once an adult. And, I remember every detail of my trip through Hell. I don’t want to do anything that would take me back there.
Bobby sat beside me, close enough we were touching. Gary asked me what I wanted to happen next. It was a hard question.
“I don’t know,” I said, finally. “Like I said, I just found out who I was. I don’t know the rules. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I believe I’m supposed to do something.
“I guess I want to know what that is.”
Gary nodded. “I want to know that, too,” he said. “I’ll help, if I can. That’s all I can promise until we find out more.”
I nodded. I liked the way he said that “we” would try to find out.
Gary
Bobby I could understand. I’d seen a hundred kids like him, a hundred kids whose story was like his. There was, however, something a little different. Something about him resonated more than most. I chalked it up to the overall weirdness of the situation. Which led me back to Nemesis.
Nemesis I didn’t understand. He was problematic in several ways. I wasn’t quite sure of the “Nemesis, son of Nemesis” story – although I had to accept the “something more than human” part of it – I’d seen his arms heal. There was the way he talked and behaved: a mix of adult and scared kid. There was his fear of emotional attachment to either Bobby or me.
The most normal thing about both of them was their appetite. They’d finished half a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a package of bologna earlier. I thought about something a little healthier for supper but had to settle for getting them to eat a couple of slices of vege pizza. I promised myself I’d get something better in them, tomorrow.
Nemesis
Gary showed Bobby and me separate bedrooms. It was Bobby who had the courage to ask if we could sleep in the same bedroom: the one with a single large bed. I didn’t have the courage to ask that question; I didn’t even have the courage to say no or yes when Gary looked at me. It was easier to just nod.
That night, after Bobby and I climbed into bed, I turned off the lamp and lay, quietly. Then, Bobby whispered. “Nemesis, would you hug me? I’m afraid and I’m so alone.”
Divine retribution, I thought. And justice. I guess it’s justice to hug a little boy who probably didn’t get many hugs from his parents or his stepparents.
“Sure,” I said. I rolled toward him, and hugged him. We cuddled. Just cuddled. And then fell asleep. After that, every night for a month, we cuddled. Every morning for a month I woke with a little boy in my arms. I know he wanted more; I think he knew I wanted more. We were both afraid. I knew why I was afraid; I couldn’t figure out why he was afraid.
Gary
Bobby was eager to share a bedroom and a bed with Nemesis. Nemesis simply nodded when I asked. That reminded me I had promised to talk to Nemesis about friendship … and about boyfriends. I resolved to do it the next morning.
Bobby
Gary made pancakes – blueberry pancakes – and bacon, but made me eat a banana, first, and drink some milk. I guess he thought it was good for me. He seemed like he would think that way. After, he asked if I’d go watch TV for a while. He wanted to talk with Nemesis and he didn’t want me to hear. That was okay. Like I said, he seemed like he cared.
I didn’t watch TV, though. I thought about things. Things I hadn’t thought about in a long time. Things that hurt.
The night after mommy’s funeral, I put on my Builder Buddy pajamas, brushed my teeth, and got in my bed. Daddy came in and pulled up the covers, and then turned off the light. Mommy used to tuck me in, and she used to kiss me, every night.
“Daddy, will you kiss me like Mommy used to?” I asked.
He turned on the light and looked at me. “Your mother is dead, and you’ve got to grow up. Kisses are for little boys, and kisses from men are for sissy boys.” He turned off the light, again, and closed the door behind him.
The next morning, Daddy poured cereal for me. It was Sunday. We always had bacon and eggs and raisin toast on Sunday. I would come downstairs in my pajamas, and Mommy would have juice ready for me. She would kiss me good morning, and fry the bacon. I looked at the cereal, watched it get soggy in the milk, and cried.
“What are you sniffling about, boy?” Daddy asked.
“I miss Mommy,” I said. “Can we have bacon and eggs?”
“Look at me, boy!” my daddy said. I turned my head up. He slapped me, hard.
“I’ll give you something to cry about!” he said. “Eat your cereal.” He left the kitchen. I’m glad he did, ’cause I was crying even harder, and I didn’t want him to hit me again.
The next morning, I woke up when I heard the door slam. I got dressed and ran downstairs. My father had left for work. I fixed a bowl of cereal and made a peanut butter sandwich. There wasn’t any jelly. I almost missed the school bus.
That’s the way it was for the rest of the school year. I got so I’d wake up when I heard my father moving around, but I didn’t go downstairs until I heard him leave. We’d eat supper together … Chef Boyardee or beanie-weenie or something else from a can. Weekends he’d sit in front of the TV. I’d fix a sandwich when I was hungry. We didn’t talk, much, and he never told me he was sorry he hit me.
I lost most of my friends at school. Some of them tried to “reach out,” like the counselor said they should, but I turned away. I was afraid if I got close, they’d stop liking what I was – a crybaby, a sissy – like my father said.
When Gary promised to help me find a new mommy and daddy, I stopped being afraid. It was the way he said it; and when he held out his arms, I was happy to get a hug from him.
Gary
It was Saturday, and the TV was full of cartoons. After breakfast – no more cereal for Bobby, ever – but a banana and blueberry pancakes for both boys – I put Bobby in front of the television, and beckoned Nemesis to come back to the kitchen. I poured coffee for myself, and asked Nemesis what he wanted. He said, coffee, so I poured him a cup. He made a face when he sipped it.
“Nemesis, can we talk about friendship … and about boyfriends?” I asked.
He nodded and put a large spoonful of sugar in his coffee.
“You heard me say I was gay,” I said. “I think you need to know the whole truth. I also think you’re old enough to understand.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m also a pedophile. I am attracted to boys. I want to have sex with boys. I can’t do that. Instead of sex, I try to help them.
“We can be friends, but we can’t be boyfriends.” I watched Nemesis put another dollop of cream in his coffee.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Can I go watch cartoons?”
Damn! Is he really that thoughtless?
He looked at me. His eyes got big. Did he hear that? I wondered.
“I’m sorry,” Nemesis said. “I know you’re trying to help. I know you’re trying to help me and Bobby. I know you are a good person. Yes, I can hear what you think when you think really hard. Knowing you’re a good person? It’s part of what I am … what I can do.
“Um, I just figured that out … ” He paused. I knew there was more, so I waited.
“I understand where you’re coming from,” Nemesis said. “Really, I do. Please trust me on that. I’m not really thoughtless … I’m just …confused.
“I know you’re good … and you do want to help me … it’s just that … ” He started crying, again.
I held out my arms and thought hard. Want a hug? It worked. He scampered around the table and into my arms. I pulled him into my lap. He put his head on my chest. I rocked back and forth. I whispered stupid things like, Shhh and It will be okay.
Nemesis stopped crying after a while; I kissed the top of his head, and then his forehead.
“It’s a start,” I said.
“Huh?”
“It’s going to take a lot longer than a day to figure us out.”
I looked into his young-old eyes. “Nemesis? You and I both need help understanding the what and the why. I can’t do it by myself. I don’t think you can, either.
“Partners?” I asked.
The boy nodded. “Partners,” he said.
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