The Warrior

Published: 05 Jun 2014

Prologue to “The Warrior – a Side Story to The Light” – Antoine was first introduced to The Light in chapter 48. By chapter 52 he had shared ‘some’ of his story with the Blake’s and to his to-be-adopted-by mother, but not all of it was shared. This side-bar story will provide much of his background, why he has certain what we call ‘hang ups’, why he is ashamed to ask for help yet is ready and willing to help anyone else, why he’s obscure, why he feels ashamed, why he feels guilty, and why he feels unworthy of unconditional love… and why he’s afraid to share his ‘secret’.

This series of chapters titled “The Warrior” has many graphic scenes. Some of those scenes will include intolerance, violence, and racial bigotry by using or depicting or implying explicit terms and actions.

Antoine is a sweet child through and through. He was made, however, tough by his father. You see, Antoine is truly a loyal, dedicated and loving individual that was made to do certain things. He did those, without question, to please his father and his mother… mainly his father though.

Antoine also has a very personal issue with his ‘body image’ (gee, that sounds so 80′ish). To him it is more than issue… as you’ll find out in the next few chapters his issue is a great issue for his father, and is a source of ridicule and nonacceptance by Antoine himself, and by others.

I fell in love with this child while writing this story. I hope I’ve done him justice.

The Warrior – Part 1

Author’s Note: “The Warrior” is a 6 chapter spin off of The Light. These chapters will be: 53A thru 53F. Its sole purpose is to provide a background for the character Antoine who will play an important role in later chapters. This side story is an important read since there is integration between three characters in The Light.

Be well. © Joe Writer Man

Castle Roland Administrator Note: We are unable to maintain the original numbering as noted above on the new site, so chapters 53A thru 53F are combined in a single chapter 53, so we don’t throw off the numbering of the subsequent chapters. We apologize for any confusion. 

“Swallow it down, poco. That’s right. Wash it down with this.” My father Armando said handing me a glass of water. His voice left no room for debate or questioning or challenging. Besides, I would never debate my father out of my respect for him; he is always right, then again even if he were not right, not that he was ever wrong, I would never say so. He was not a man to be questioned or challenged.

After swallowing 25 of cellophane wrapped tablets he and mother whisked me off to the airport. After we arrived and after they escorted me to the gate to depart from, he gave me instructions to not take a crap until after I had arrived, and had been met by a ‘friend’ of his.

After arriving in Singapore I was met by that friend of my father’s. When we got to his Mercedes, parking in the lot right next to the terminal, he gave me a bottle of a foreign looking liquid with a label that I did not understand because the label was written in a foreign language. He told me to drink it down very fast. I did as he told me to do. Its taste was acrid. I barely made it down before the urge to puke nearly overwhelmed me. He then gave me a sweet tasting heavy liquid which pretty much negated the horrific taste in my mouth.

“Sit down. Buckle up. Don’t say a word. Great danger stands before us. Do as I say. Let me do all of the talking.” The guy said in broken English. I did not recognize the accent.

Winding, whirling, up and down, left turn here, right turn there, straightway then we stopped at a checkpoint. The guy put his fingers over his mouth in such a way that now was the time to now to not say anything – not that we had said any words to this point because we had not. I sat like the toy soldier I was expected to be. He then scared me when he made the motion across his neck – I knew the message: stay quiet or you die.

I listened as he and a guard spoke in a language that I did not understand. The guard carefully looked into the car, eyed me intently then told the man I was riding with to get out of the car. The guard performed a detailed inspection of our vehicle. I became incredibly afraid when a mean dog was brought to our car. The guard told me to get out of the vehicle. The guy I was riding with nodded. Silently, I got out of the vehicle. When the dog finished smelling the car he came to me then began sniffing me intently. He dug his nose deep into my underwear and jeans covered butt. Satisfied, I guess, the dog then came around, growled a little growl then pushed his nose along the side of my penis and balls causing me to become erect beyond belief, and no I am not into dogs in that manner.

The dog then went to the guy who was driving our vehicle to perform the very same inspection to him. Satisfied, I’m not sure what he was satisfied with, the guard motioned the driver to continue his journey.

About half an hour later we turned into a block of row houses. Before we continued on, he pulled a towel out of the glove box then put it over my face, tied it tight, and told me to not pay attention to anything.

We drove around several times. I could tell we were driving in circles. My father had taught me to be aware of my surroundings. He taught me the same way this driver was driving me around. When we were stopped, we were 30 paces from where we had started. I remained silent though.

He reached over, unlocked my door then he got out and opened it from the outside. As soon as my feet hit the pavement, he took hold of me, turned me around 16½ times then unexpectedly lifted me up, tossed me around like a rag doll, turned me upside down then shook my head between his legs as he turned and twisted – I lost my sense of awareness. I was now at his mercy. I would tell my father of this, ask his advice on how to keep my awareness.

I was at his mercy now.

We walked 500 paces straight ahead, in a direction that I did not, could not recognize. He stopped then turned me around rapidly 18 times. I had now lost any sense of direction, had no awareness of where I was or where we were going. I became frightened which is something I do not feel very often.

We continued to walk then he guided me up four flights of stairs. The room or the hallway, yes it was a hallway, smelled musty, nasty – like stale cigarettes and booze, marijuana, then clearly that of a methamphetamine lab.

He rapped 8 times on a door on our right. 4 minutes later, the door was answered. Quickly, we were ushered inside then the door slammed shut. Its sonic boom like sound startled me. Now I was scared.

I was led 15 paces then sat down on a creakily, wobbly hard straight backed chair where I was pushed down into it. I heard footsteps that walked away from me. I was left alone while those two guys, then a third one said “check him out. If he lost our product then kill him.”

Now, despite all of my training, I was scared. But I remained still, quiet and relaxed. Footsteps were walking toward me then the person who was attached to those feet stood me up straight. He had me put my hands flat down on the table.

He began unbuttoning my shirt one by one until my chest was exposed. Next, he unbuttoned the faded jeans I was wearing then he zipped down my zipper. He took my shirt off then tossed it 13 paces to my right. It landed on a hollow box. I heard it.

My father told me this next part would happen. They pushed my jeans and underwear down to my feet then another guy took off my shoes, socks and then my jeans. They were laid by my feet not one pace away. My underwear was the next to go. I was standing in front of them totally naked and cold. I maintained my composure adequately.

I nearly collapsed when the guy who was undressing me grasped my penis in his hand then squeezed roughly. My dick responded accordingly. The guy then rapidly talked in a language I did not understand, but as he continued to squeeze me, his intent was very clear. His purpose had gotten off of the beaten path, as the saying goes, a path which he would never have the opportunity to regret. My senses became keenly and acutely aware. My body began tensing, my breathing remained evenly spaced and my heartbeat sped up a few paces but not noticeably so to the outside world. The little downy hairs on the back of neck, on my arms, and yes the two that defined my pubes were all standing straight up.

Just before I was ready to spill my seed he stopped then whispered something in my ear that I did not understand because of the language barrier between us. His breath, stale beer, garlic and other flavors I did not recognize just about stimulated me to the point of tossing my cookies. Nevertheless, I was pleased by the way my maleness softened completely.

More whispering, more conversation between the three guys until they stopped speaking. I then heard the snap of surgical gloves. At that point one of the guys took hold of me then led me to lie on the table flat on my back 3 paces away. Another guy took a hold of my ankles then raised my legs straight up in the air. He put my knees into my chest, completely exposing my ass to whatever was going to happen next. My father told me of this, to not worry, that they were going to remove from me the packets that I had swallowed. My Sensei had taught me relaxation techniques only because he knew what I would be doing as soon as I turned 13 years old.

I had turned 13 just late last week, on Thursday.

I was not prepared for what happened next, but still, my senses were on high overload, I was very keenly aware of what was happening at the same time.

I heard pants being unzipped and dropped to the floor. I tensed up. My breathing became calm and rhythmical. I felt pulsations in my head just in front of my ears.

The guy roughly separated my legs then grabbed the front of my thighs with tremendous strength and pulled me to him. Still I remained motionless until he leaned over me and pressed his dick against the place where I poop at. He pushed very hard.

That was the very last thing he ever did. Very quickly I scissored my legs around his head… I next heard his body hit the floor after a crunching of bones that assured me he was out of commission.

The guy who had drove me here said “Good poco. That man, he held gun on me. You are good boy, very strong. We get this over. We go then.”

“One minute please.” I said then with great care and precision squatted down over the guy who tried to defile me and dropped a nice long one onto his face.

“Let’s go. I am ready.” I said grinning widely. He just shook his head all the while smiling. “Come on poco, let’s get this finished.”

I got back up on the table. He put my feet into stirrups but did not tie the straps. I knew what to do. My stomach was cramping up now so when he put the pan underneath my cheeks I knew what to do and welcomed relief. I bore down on my bowels with all of my strength my churning stomach could send. Once, twice, three times and then on the fourth effort a torrent of solid and liquid material went splattering into the pan. As the cramping peaked out I went into total bear down mode. I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head yet I could not stop until it was ready to so. Out came several pieces of solid material, pieces I knew had to be product as they were very, very firm not at all like normal stuff that leaves my body from that direction.

When I felt finished and empty the third guy became belligerent by pushing hard on my stomach. The driver guy stopped him then told me that only 17 packets were delivered so he would have to irrigate the rest of them out. A large tube was then inserted into my most private of places, no big deal I’ve had this done before, then as the liquid flowed into me I felt my stomach grow tense, very tense until I got to a point where no alternative existed other than to push down with all of my strength but because the tube was in the way nothing would flow. Noting my obvious distress the driver guy removed the tube from my bowels then I gave it everything I had. Finally, blessed relief came as torrents of water and anything else in me exploded out of me and into the pan. All the while Mr. Driver guy was cursing into the air. When a break occurred with my evacuating I looked through my legs and noticed his arms and chest were, well, they were covered with uhm … never mind.

After he wiped my butt with an oily rag, he had nothing else to clean me with; I stood up then lost control and ejected the last two remaining products.

I went to the sink, ran some water in it then took the oily rag and along with some Ivory dish washing liquid cleaned up the best I could then got dressed.

From there, my next trips were to South Africa, South Korea, London, Jamaica, and Cancun then on to Mexico City. I met my family at the airport in Mexico City then we went to the hotel where they would be staying for the time we would be there. My father was lavishing praise onto me like he had never done before. I finally felt accepted by him as his son but that was not to last very long, not long at all.

One day when he and I were alone out driving in the countryside my father asked me how many people had crossed my path, people who I felt necessary for them to pay the ultimate price for real threats of really harming me. I only admitted the one guy who tried but utterly failed to forcefully use me for his own personal sexual favors.

“Good poco. Very good. You fail to tell me everything, every circumstance. You are truly a warrior. True warriors do not boast their conquests. Keep yourself pure poco. Do not give into lustful thoughts because by doing so God will strike you dead. Maybe not at the time, maybe not in this lifetime, but you will be punished severely.”

“But father, my head is crazy. Every 5 minutes … I cannot help it papa. They won’t stop.”

“No poco. Do not argue with me. At all costs, stay pure of mind and do not give into your body urges. Save yourself for your wife so you can have children.”

“Okay papa. I promise I will try again.”

“What do you mean Antoine Garza? Did you give into sin and depravity of the flesh?”

My tears started flowing, I could not stop them. I was so filled with shame. My father was absolutely steadfast in his beliefs. His beliefs became mine in that moment. To my father, I confessed “Yes sir. My training could not stop me. Papa I wake up, my seed falls into my bed. Sometimes … I … I do concentration exercises before I go to sleep papa.”

“You must go to confession. The devil has your mind. This is of grave matter poco. I will take you myself. Until you control your mind, you are no warrior. You must discipline yourself, and if you do not then I will.”

My father then stopped the car on a lonely deserted road on our way back into the city and whipped me very hard. I took it like a man, he was proud of me for not crying out in pain as each of the 20 lashes bruised and battered my back side.

My father took me to a church when we arrived back in the city. There we met a man, a priest simply named “The Padre”. This- man, this huge man was looking down and into my soul with his deep dark penetrating eyes. I felt shivers course rapidly through every single vein in my body. Sensei had taught me how to recognize evil … but I am but a boy though. Pure recognition development takes time to perfect the skills necessary… he would say to me after every lesson in its art.

In Spanish my father outlined my difficulties then the priest turned to me and said, “What is your sin, boy?” Padre asked gravely.

Although tears threatened to spill from my eyes, thankfully they did not because I cannot be weak in front of my father, and this man whom I do not know. I replied, “Lust sir.”

Enraged the priest said, “Do not use those two words together ever again, do you hear me?”

“Yes sir. My sin is lust, I cannot stop those thoughts. I have used my body in impure ways. I am sorry.”

“Do you go to sleep with them?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you wake up with them?”

“Yes sir. Sometimes they wake me up early …”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes, I wake up. I am wet. Padre, I wear very tight underwear. I wear two and three pairs to keep it from … but I fail.”

“That is a sign of devil possession. This is serious. How often does that happen, child?” Padre asked while deeply in concentration.

“4 to 5 times a week sir.”

“I see. And what happens on the other nights? Obviously you are doing something to prevent the devil from taking over your flesh.”

I looked over at my father in shame, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly guilty. He shook his head no with his bright blue eyes but they were sad; he already knew the answer and I did not need to say anything. “Be truthful, be forthright in all matters.” My Sensei had repeatedly told me when I had not told him entire truths. To my father I nodded affirmatively.

“I sin. I touch it.”

“You spill your own seed by your conscious actions?” The Padre asked incredulously.

“Yes sir. I do. I cannot stop sometimes.”

“Very well. Let us pray … Dear Father in heaven … we bring to you today this child of your most holiness. He has fallen into mortal depravity and he has dishonored the temple you gave him at birth. He has a weak mind. He has surely fallen out of your Grace and Love. But he comes before you today so we pray that his soul and body temple return to meek, humble and sinless ways. For these we pray. Amen.”

“Amen.” I said with tears streaming down my face. I never cry, and today I have cried twice. Quickly, I blotted the tears away from my eyes with my handkerchief that I pulled out of my pocket.

“Amen.” My father said reverently.

“Antoine, you will lead us thru 5 complete recitations. Offer your pain for the poor souls in purgatory. Think of your poor father having to spend his time atoning for his sins of not teaching you properly, and for your sins.”

“Yes sir. Papa, I’m sorry. I will do penance. Please forgive me.”

“Your actions speak louder than words boy. I will be strict. I will come up with a solution. Pray.” My father said ice coldly. I shivered.

Both my father and The Padre each took one of my hands and held them in prayer. For the next hour and a half, I led us in prayer. However, if I missed a word, stuttered, squirmed or cleared my throat The Padre would make me start that set over again.

When we completed our prayer circle The Padre spoke up slowly, “We must consecrate your body, we must make it clean and pure and free from your lustful desires and actions.”

“Yes sir. I want to stop sinning, sir. Please help me.”

“Very well. Come with me.” The Padre said. Then without another word being spoken, he took us to the Baptismal pedestal. He took a gallon jug of water from its cabinet then poured its contents into the deep dish sitting inside of the granite receptacle. He prayed over it, blessed it then turned around to face me and said, “Disrobe. I must first bless your offender with this holy water then I shall anoint you with holy oil. Once those are completed, I will bless your head then anoint it too with holy oils to free your mind of the devil who resides in you. Go ahead; disrobe while I put on my sacrificial vestments for ritual.”

That said The Padre reached into his closet then pulled out a purple tunic which he put on over his head. At the same time, I removed my socks and shoes, then my shirt. My father took them then folded them up neatly and laid them on a table next to the Baptismal pedestal.

Reluctantly, I shivered despite the warm temperatures. I visibly shuddered as I unbuttoned my pants, unzipped then lowered them down over my butt, thighs and calves to the floor. I stepped out of them and as I was folding them up my father snatched them from my hands. Angrily, he completed folding them then laid them out on the same table as my other clothes were lying on.

Now, I had a problem. While I had worn 3 pairs of underwear, despite my best attempts to make it stop, I felt a stirring in the front side of my underwear that I could not stop. Thinking quickly, I put my thumbs in the waist band of the outer most pair then they took the same path as my pants had taken. My father grabbed them then ran his hand through their insides as if he were looking for something. Satisfied, he folded them neatly then laid them on top of the rest of my clothes.

By now, the contour of my maleness could not be mistaken as it pushed out against the two remaining layers of fabric separating my source of sin and the outside world. The Padre began intensely praying out loud after seeing the evidence of my depravity.

Slowly, I grasped the second pair of underwear by the waistband with both of my thumbs then stopped. I looked to both my father and The Padre for understanding. They gave me none. A look of disgust washed over my fathers’ face as I lowered my second pair of briefs down which I then handed to my father. He accepted them then performed the same inspection. Once again satisfied he folded them neatly then sat them on top of my first pair.

Closing my eyes, steeling myself against the world, feeling alone as I had never felt alone before, my face as hot as it has ever been in my 13 years of life, sweating as I had never sweat in the same period of time, I grasped the very last barrier against the world by its waistband then quickly took them down using the very same path as the two previous trips had taken. I reached over to hand them to my father. With a disgusted look on his face he pointed for me to fold them and put them on the table as he had done the previous two times.

The Padre gasped as my fully engorged pillar of sinful flesh unfolded then hung in its full length alongside my left thigh, all the while right in front of them both.

“Antoine THAT is completely and utterly filled with sin; you should be ashamed! THAT is abnormal. You cannot possibly be my son. Padre, look how …” My father could not finish his sentence. He put his face in his hands then wept loudly in shame and disgust. I had never before seen my father weep about anything, even with the death of his mother.

“Be damned. You are cursed child. I have never seen anything like this in my 45 years of tending to God’s flock. This is an aberration against nature.”

“I know. Yes sir.” I said quietly totally filled with shame. I had made my father cry. The Padre looked at me with total contempt. His eyes were, once again, boring holes deep into the core of my very being. I had to look away as they were stabbing through my very essence and causing me great and unrelenting pain, the magnitude greater than anything I had ever before experienced.

My father stopped weeping. He reached for a tissue then wiped his eyes dry of their tears. He then blew his nose which shattered the silence surrounding us. I had never before seen such contempt in my fathers’ eyes as I did right then.

“Is there no hope Padre?” My father asked gravely.

“With God’s will and strength hope always remains. Never lose your faith. Trust your One and Only Father, Armando. Never doubt it. God can move mountains, part the sea, bring about fire and floods … so, yes, there is hope. Little as there may be.”

Turning toward me again The Padre asked, “How much control do you have over THAT?”

“I tried not to get … the way it is now sir none, I guess, sir.”

“No, how much control do you have before spilling your seed?”

“It all depends, sir. Not much if you are asking what I think you are asking.”

“Very well.” The Padre said as he gathered the bowl and holy towels together. He scooted my clothing aside then sat the bowl down next to them. He then dipped some of the holy water into a chalice like cup yet it was not a chalice at all.

“Child this is all a matter of control over yourself. Once you master control you should be okay. Do you feel your seed ready to fall?”

“It would not take much sir.” I said shamefully knowing this is not what my father wanted to hear, not at all. I was right. My father looked away in total disgust.

“Very well. Control yourself. Drop two seeds of God’s essence into this chalice. If you can do that then there is hope. We will know that God has blessed you, that He has forgiven you. Go ahead.”

“Really? Here? Now? In front of you?”

Once again, The Padre looked me deep into my eyes and on down into my soul which was quaking. I was quaking not so much from embarrassment but from the profound knowledge that once my dick began leaking it would explode … nevertheless I took a hold of the serpent’s head then attempted to squeeze out two drops. When that did not work, I very daintily without commitment barely stroked it twice, three then four times. On the fifth stroke, I felt myself right on the verge of unloading a torrent so I stopped, let go of myself then tried controlling my breathing, my awareness, my sense of time and place.

“I can’t do it sir. I cannot control that which cannot be controlled.”

No, wait. I can do what I usually do when my hand must spill my seed. I learned how to do it without experiencing orgasm. I thought doing it that way would prevent my lust, but it didn’t, but still …

I grasped my penis again then with every ounce of control I could bring forward, I squeezed rhythmically. When I felt the moment arrive, when I felt the sperm traveling down my tube, I held it steady. With precision, I squeezed it one more time. The Padre held up the chalice to the end of my dick as it began draining in a controlled way. I stopped the flow by squeezing my dick very hard to the point where it hurt. The only problem with doing it that way are my balls ache with need for release, my back muscles hurt with pent up need, my chest gets tight, my muscles get rigid, I get light headed then get a pounding headache. That day was no different than any other.

When I let go of my dick before losing control, it continued to ooze its un-released, stored up and held back liquids until a small puddle gathered at my feet. The Padre handed me a wad of Kleenex. I dabbed the end of my dick which resulted in a flood of juices however I was not taken over by orgasm. Once it was dry, once I was sure my juices had flowed completely, or as much as possible, I leaned down then wiped up the circle of sperms that had escaped in a planned and controlled way.

When I had finished cleaning up The Padre lifted a nearby trash can so I could deposit the used tissue in it. I did.

Once he had placed the can back on the floor, he reached up on the Baptismal table, retrieved a spoon then swished my essence and the holy water around until it was mixed as well as possible. By now, my dick had returned to its semi-normal state of flaccidity. He put the cup between my scrotum and penis then lifted the chalice until it rested between their juncture in the middle. I jumped slightly because the bottom half of my dick was extremely sensitive to the cold water surrounding it. I recovered quickly though. The cold water sent my penis to its final resting place. I was now totally in control then said, “Thank you God. Thank you for blessing my efforts and releasing me from its wickedness.”

My father once again placed his face into his hands but wept silently this time. When he had regained his senses, he stood up then came to me, took me into a hug then whispered, “God’s power is great. Never forget it.” He sat down. I felt proud once again. I felt that my sin had been removed, and that my dick was now purified, and that my father once again loved me. I felt clean once again, but this time was different, my cleanliness was stronger, and felt it would be everlasting but The Padre said differently, “Now we must anoint your sinful organ as well as your head after we clean them adequately.”

That said he put alcohol on cloth and dabbed the end of my dick with it. Reaching back up on the Baptismal pedestal, he took a cruet of holy water and poured it over my dick and balls. That compete, he reached for another cruet containing an oily substance … oh, the holy oils … he poured that over my entire penis then dabbed it dry with a holy kerchief like piece of fabric.

After performing my head and mind consecration, The Padre sprinkled water on each article of clothing as I put them on one at a time.

Feeling refreshed and clean, light and happy, The Padre gave me my penance which shattered my good feelings. He said, “Antoine, you will sprinkle your penis with black pepper each night after your cleansing bath and before you go to sleep. The pepper itself will not harm you. Should the devil possess you once again you will awaken quickly and will be able to pray fervently. Go child. Sin no more.”

As my father drove us home he said with disgust dripping from his vocal cords, “No woman will have your manhood. You will be unable to pleasure her. You were not even hard. You have to be hard to penetrate your wife. I don’t know what you will do … I wish you luck though.”

My father did pepper me for the first three nights then he turned me loose with my solemn assurances that I would continue my penance, and continue my penance for a total of 9 days, that I would pray fervently asking that my sin be taken away, and so that I would escape the fires of eternal damnation.

On the 10th day I could no longer take the pain despite my training to not feel it. On that morning, I very carefully washed and rewashed and rewashed with only soap suds until all signs of pepper were removed. After my shower and drying off was completed I took some of my mothers’ facial cream then applied it to my boyhood very liberally. Feeling my sin coming on very quickly, I sat down on the closed toilet lid just in the nick of time because my moment had arrived sending a thick geyser of molten hot essence onto my nose for the first shot then subsequent ones coated my chest and belly thoroughly. After recovering I took another quick shower. Not only did I wash down the evidence of my transgressions into the drain but it also washed away the extreme guilt and shame I had burdened myself with. For the next several days I controlled my nearly constant need for seminal release by only doing it each morning after my shower.

To be continued

(Edited & Reposted September 2, 2011)

The Warrior – Part 2

Published: 05 Jun 2014

The following week I was sent on a mission to Cuba. My father prepared me by not allowing me to eat for 24 hours prior to my scheduled departure date. This time was much different though. Instead of the little bite sized baggies I had been accustomed to, he forced me to swallow 30 baggies that were maybe 2 inches in length and 1 inch in breadth after spraying my throat with a bottle that read “Cetacaine” on its label.

Before I left that morning my mother took me by the hand and took me to her garden to remove weeds from it. She told me my father is sending me on this very dangerous job, one that he would not do himself because he confided his fears to her.

She was worried for me. She kissed my cheek then turned away to leave. On a second thought, she turned to face me. Tears were flowing down her face. Automatically, I went to my mother and pulled her into a hug. She quietly whispered in my ear, “Son, your father is wrong, very wrong about your … Be very careful, take no chances, be aware son. You will be in grave danger. We will meet you in Hawaii 2 weeks from today. We will be staying at the Harton Hotel on Waikiki. Go now. God bless and keep you, child.”

My father came out of the condo which eliminated any further conversation my mother and I would have. Quickly, I packed a small bag containing only my toothbrush, toothpaste, two pair of underwear and socks, one pair of shorts, one pair of jeans, one t-shirt and my Missal. Father made sure to put my bottle of pepper in it. I went to the bathroom before we left and dumped a big load. After wiping up and washing my hands well I grabbed mamma’s cold cream then stuffed it deep inside the bag. I smiled knowing I could not control or stop or put aside my ‘needs’.

Father took me to the airport and before our car even stopped he pushed me out and sped off. He stopped about half a block away, got out of the car, slammed the door that remained partially open after he tossed me out onto the street, got back in on the drivers’ side then sped off at a high rate of speed.

Tears stung my eyes. While I was scraped on my elbows I was not crying because they stung rather my tears came from a breaking heart caused by my father rejecting me.

I thought maybe he would love me if I brought him a very high mark for my travels this time.

I presented my ticket to the agent. It was registered to a name not mine but my passport and ID card matched it so they let me on without any difficulty. I took my seat way in the back of the airplane.

I resolved in my heart that my father would be proud of me. I must honor, obey and love my father no matter what.

My flight to Havana was uneventful. After arriving, however, I was met by a team of police who quickly whisked me off to an airport security center where they frisked me down heavily. They, too, brought the drug sniffing dog in.

A big burly black haired man with beady dark brown eyes came into the room. The cops definitely knew him. They were shaking hands, laughing and carrying on in Spanish. Once he told them I was with him so they allowed me to go without any further questions.

When we got to the parking garage, he opened the door, ushered me into his vehicle pleasantly. He said, “My name is Juan Cisneros. I will escort you during your visit to our fine city, welcome. If everything goes well, then your trip will be fruitful. We will even give you a cut of the profits. Stay close to me and you will be safe.”

“Okay. I will stay close. Thank you. When do I get to unload? I have a stomach ache sir. It is getting very bad.”

“My name is Juan. Please call me Juan. Sir makes me feel older than my 37 years of life poco. Soon, very soon young man, I promise.”

“Sure. Juan it is then. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“The last 3 jobs I have done, they were very rough with me during the extraction process. They really tried to hurt me. But then again they did not know what I was made of. I am not threatening you or anything …”

“Yes, so I have heard. Word travels, Antoine. I will make the extraction as smooth as it can possibly be. The agent will be smooth. It actually tastes pretty darned good if you ask me. I do not do the ‘funny’ stuff.” Juan said looking over at me intently then he nodded. I believed and trusted him. I had never before trusted any ‘contact’.

On the way to his place, which he made no attempt to hide, we stopped off at an authentic Mexican food cantina where he purchased many bags of food for us to consume later. Quite frankly, my stomach discomfort was so great that the smell of food nauseated me. His eyes were gentle, kind and caring then he said that I would feel like eating later on this evening.

At about 4pm, some people ‘stopped by’ his home but they did not stay long. Some money, I did not know how much, exchanged hands after they saw me sitting at the computer minding my own business. The two guys did come over and looked between me in the flesh and a picture. Satisfied, they soon left. They did not set off any warning bells, and Juan had given me no reason to think he was anything more than a fairly decent person.

Right after they left, he led me into the kitchen where he made up a milkshake like drink. He handed it to me after taking a taste of it himself first. The drink was a very good one. Banana and pineapple were the noticeable flavors … my favorites.

“That will start working in about an hour. Antoine, for obvious reasons, I must watch the results but rest assured I will not humiliate you as you have been humiliated in the past. If you feel humiliated in any way, just say so. I would like to utilize your services in the future.”

“Sure. Thanks. I appreciate your hospitality.”

About two hours later, my stomach started grumbling. I felt pressure on my left side then down into my lower stomach. Juan was napping in a chair next to me. We had been watching a Rambo movie. I had been into it but he soon fell asleep. Feeling a need to evacuate I said “Juan. Juan.”

“Yes.” Juan said. He shook the sleep from his eyes then looked at me intently, as if he were waiting for a question or something.

“I think it is time to deliver. Where do you want me?”

He nodded then he led me into a guest room. When I walked in there it reminded me of a hospital exam room. It even had an examining table in the middle of it. The room was very clean and pleasant smelling. I was impressed with the professionalism … Juan was a professional who took care of his mules.

“Okay, Antoine, I want you to get undressed. Remove your clothes except for your underwear then lie down with your face up on the table. We will cover you up with a sheet to maintain your dignity after I remove your underwear. I trust you are wearing a plug, no?”

“Yes I am.”

“Very well, we have time then. Your father said you have 20 packets. They will take about an hour and a half to all pass. If you get uncomfortable, just say so. I can give you a glass of wine to help relax you. I will have a glass from the same bottle should you be concerned of my authenticity.”

“No Juan, my father instilled 30. I am in great need to empty Juan.” I said while removing my clothes, all of them. I quickly got up on the table. He pulled my hips lower on the table so that my ass was hanging off. Immediately he put a pan on a shelf pulled out from the table. He put my feet into foot rests then said “Okay, this will hurt some. I am just removing the plug from you.”

Sure enough, it did hurt a lot as he removed it. Unable to stop myself, as soon as it was out I bore down very hard sending torrents of water and other solid forms out of my rectum into the pan. When that wave passed he looked over the sheet into my eyes. He said, “Okay, that is 8 of them. 22 to go. Did you fast before insertion? I ask only because a lot of waste material passed first.”

“Yes, I fasted for 24 hours. He did not prepare me; he never has prepared my bowels.”

“Okay. You should be getting another wave just any time.” Juan said as he pressed my stomach.

The discomfort was just too great to push down very hard. I felt something at the verge of my anal canal but it would not pass naturally. Juan said, “I will be very gentle. Just relax and let it happen.”

I felt his fingers at my back door however he did not insert them. I clamped shut. I was afraid. That was the point where the men had gotten rough with me. Somehow, I trusted this man. I said, “Please sir, do not hurt me.”

“I will not hurt you. I am sorry you have been hurt. There was no reason for you being hurt. Please relax. You will feel my fingers near your private place. Concentrate and think that you are expelling a very big natural occurrence. I’m sorry son, the product is much too big for your body. Your father is a very mean man doing this to you. I shall speak with him.”

“NO. I must please my father!” I said which tensed me up all over again.

Juan got up from his chair, walked around to my side, pulled my face into his. His eyes were gentle. He was… he actually cared. He said, “Son, this is very wrong. You are too small for the product he gave you. I will not hurt you but you will be uncomfortable until the last one passes. This could be a very long night. Child, I do not give boys alcohol and have my way with them but I need to give you a stiff drink so that passage will not harm you. You have to trust me otherwise you could die.”

Juan put his hands on my shoulders, squeezed lightly… I nodded. He went to his bar, returned shortly with a small glass of what smelled like Jose, helped me to sit up somewhat and then held the glass where I voluntarily drank down the substance. It was sweet, pleasant tasting. It went down smooth. After the last swig, I lay back down on the table feeling relaxed.

Still the one bag was stuck. I gently pushed at Juan’s urging then I felt his fingers again on my back door. He tugged the bag. I felt it tear open. Quickly, he pulled on the cellophane. I felt it disintegrate.

“Push down child! Now!!!!!!!!! Push hard!!!!!! Don’t let up!” Juan said and then began pouring water over my area down there. It was warm. All the while he was rubbing the same area with his hands. I asked, “It popped, no?”

“Yes. These are too big for your system. We must think of something different. These will rupture if you push too hard. Ahhhhh, let me think.”

While he was thinking and I was concentrating about relaxation… three delivered in rapid succession. Then a fourth and then a fifth and then a sixth exited.

Two minutes passed then just like that I felt six pass in rapid succession. Juan said softly, “Okay, only 9 to go. I hope they do not rupture.”

When five minutes passed Juan said, “Relax now. Don’t push down. Don’t do anything. Just concentrate on something very good.”

I willed myself to relax. I relaxed to the point that a few drops of urine passed onto my stomach but I didn’t move, didn’t twitch, and didn’t react in any way. I then felt something large pass into my rectum. When I felt other fingers close by I knew what he was doing… and because I trusted him…

“I do not feel any others. I will put some warm water into you. Just relax. Let it flow. Do not resist and do push down no matter what you do. Please.”

His finger left my cavern filled with drugs. It was replaced by a small tube… I hardly felt it pass inside. Soon though, I felt pressure in my belly, I said, “I’ve got to go Juan.”

The tube was removed… I felt 8 baggies quickly pass. I rapidly counted… only 1 was left. I felt it pushing against my back door… just like that one from earlier had done. I felt it right on the edge. I felt some pressure in my stomach too. I said to Juan, “It is right on the edge.”

Juan replied, “Yes, I see it. The wrapping is very thin. This is very wrong, child. This is one is very dangerous. Concentrate very carefully. Relax. Meditate. That’s it. That’s it. I will help you. Just relax.”

“Okay.” But I was unable to stop; instead my bowels erupted naturally. Not only did the baggie pass but 36 hours of other stuff passed too. Juan encouraged me to continue until it was all gone, until my stomach was once again relaxed, until I felt empty. The refuse passed quickly. Soon I was finished. I said, “Okay, I’m done. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry Antoine. But I will deal with your father. This is just wrong.” Juan said softly.

I started to get up but Juan said, “Wait a minute.” He sat the pan on a table, covered it with a towel, retrieved a wet soapy wash cloth and cleaned my private area then rinsed and dried me.

During his ministrations my snake elongated. Immediately I felt ashamed and embarrassed but Juan didn’t say anything. Instead he helped me off the table and then walked me into the bathroom, gathered clean wash cloths and towels. He patted my back and then much to my surprise he urged me into a hug; one that I accepted then we parted. He left, closing the door behind him.

I felt an urge to purge some more. I sat down, pushed down like normal. Among other things another baggie passed. When I was finally finished, after wiping, I fished the baggie out, put it in the sink and rinsed it off well. For some reason I felt comfortable with Juan. Something about him… was honorable even though he was in ‘the trade’. In any event, without thoughts of privacy or anything I found him in the kitchen preparing our meal. I felt hungry. He turned toward me. I handed him the baggie wrapped in a clean washcloth. I then felt another at my back door. He grabbed a wad of paper towels. I delivered two more bags but nothing else, thankfully.

My dick had grown to its full length. Juan’s eyes never left mine. He did say, “That’s 33. Antoine, this is wrong…”

I grabbed two more paper towels and put them against my anus then pushed. Two more baggies delivered. Then one more.

“Do you feel finished?” Juan said very softly.

“I thought I was. My father told me there were 30. I thought I counted 30… But I was wrong sir.” I said then felt a foreign object at the back door. Juan handed me paper towel. I bent over and gave birth to two smaller ones. And then three more. I felt finished – again.

Juan took me into the bathroom, had me sit down and push. No more baggies delivered. I truly felt empty. He said, “Antoine, we have to make sure all of those are gone. If one ruptures… it will kill you. I need to irrigate your colon so that we’re positive. Can I do that?”

After several irrigations we were assured that nothing more was present. I got into the shower and washed up leisurely. The warm water felt really good. The soapy water felt even better. My dick was unruly. Briefly I thought of what The Padre had told me, of my father’s shame of me. Something snapped… at least for the next 10 minutes… they were wrong.

I got dressed. When I went to the kitchen freshly showered and feeling much, much better Juan turned to me, “We’re going to save the good stuff for later. Your system has been stimulated enough. I don’t want you to get embarrassed if you should have an accident.”

I nodded. He handed me a plate containing a club sandwich, some chips, an apple, and bottle of sparkling water. He got his. We sat down at a beautiful oak table and ate silently. I really felt that he cared.

From out of the blue he said, “I’m quitting this business, Antoine. It’s not right. Eat up. We have people to see, places to go. We’ll get you some more clothes.”

…

My nerves became frazzled when he stopped at a cop shop but relaxed a whole lot when he went inside with me at his side. A desk clerk buzzed us on through. Through a maze of hallways, left turns, right turns, down another hallway, then more turns (I knew exactly where we were in relation to where we came from) until we reached an office. Juan motioned for me to sit down then he sat behind the desk in a way that made me believe it was his office. As if reading my mind he said “Welcome to my office. Pretty soon some gentlemen will be arriving to take delivery. Do not say anything unless they ask you something obvious like what is your hair color, the color of your eyes or the color of your skin. Are we understood?”

“Of course. Hair color. Eye color. Skin color. Simple stuff, nothing else.”

Juan looked at me wide eyed until I said “I have been known to be a smart ass on occasion.” He grinned and nodded his head in affirmation.

Maybe 5 minutes later, a man in a business suit arrived, shut then locked the door. He sat down in the chair next to me, patted my thigh then said “You are a pretty boy, would you be interested in augmenting your income? We would keep you very busy.”

“Hal shut the fuck up. And get your god damned hand the fuck off of him.” Juan said forcefully.

Hal was not listening though. Instead of removing his hand from my thigh he moved it up then brushed across my cock and held onto it with his gnarly fingers.

“Sir, Juan has spoken. Take your hand off of my thigh right this moment. You will not like me removing it.” I said calmly looking Hal directly in his eyes.

“You’re just a fucking kid. Don’t tell me what to do. Tell him Juan.” Asshole Hal said condescendingly.

Juan said while getting up from his desk, “I suggest you do as he advises.”

I reached down with the intent to only remove his hand away from my growing member but he clamped down. He said, “This boy is hung like a horse. Did you get any of it?”

Juan said, “I’m warning you Hal. Let go of him.”

“Or what?” Hal said. He then reached, with his other hand, and took hold of the top of my pants where the clasp was located.

“Sir, remove your hands from me.” I said coolly, calmly.

The guy wasn’t listening but I thought about giving him enough rope to hang himself. I knew the type. I’d been groped before. Previously the slime buckets had removed their filthy hands from my genitals, upon request. This guy was persistent.

Juan walked directly in front of Hal and stepped on his toes with his full weight. That got the guys’ attention but was able to break free. I said to Juan, “It feels good. Let him do as he wishes.” Hal was intent. He unzipped my pants and released the clasp. He then reached his hand into my member compartment, took hold of my member, squeezed. Although the sensations were pleasurable he did not have permission to do what he was doing.

I looked into Juan’s eyes. He said, “Hal, Antoine is going to give you a reminder that he wants you to leave him alone.”

“But he’s about to jizz. I’m sure the boy has at least a gallon. Bottle it up, Cisneros.”

“Sir, with all due respect…”

Very calmly but deliberately I reached for Hal’s hand. When he resisted I quickly provided him with a massive orthopedic adjustment. He screamed in pain as his wrist shattered into pieces and it came to rest with his fingers pointing toward his elbow. He rolled to the floor writhering around and around in agony.

I said to Juan, “We tried to tell him. Some people can’t hear calm voices.”

I then reached for my pants that had fallen to the floor. I was in the process of snapping the snap when a bunch of guys entered Juan’s office. One of them reached for me. Juan said “Leave the boy alone. Do not touch him. He is a bit annoyed.”

I could not help it. I giggled then shrugged my shoulders, got up, walked across the office until I had a full visual vantage point to the door. The other men that had come into the office left with the injured man.

“Damn.” Juan uttered softly.

“What?” I asked then added “I don’t like to be played with, not by him or anyone else like him. I’m not a toy.”

“No shit.” Juan said chuckling.

Pretty soon another man, a different man came walking down the hallway. Juan motioned him in to visit with us.

“Antoine, this is Rufus. He is our buyer. I am the broker and will make the proper disbursements to the parties involved. Rufus if you have something for me then we will deliver the product.”

Without saying a word, Rufus got up from his seat then started walking toward Juan’s desk with an envelope in his hand then reached into his right breast pocket. “Why is he reaching into his suite pocket?” my mind asked? Immediately, my skin began crawling the back of my neck, my senses became hyper-vigilant, my vision broadened, my hearing became acute, and then I immediately experienced a sense of foreboding; a sense of urgency come over me.

Then I saw it: he was bringing a shiny gun out of that pocket. I yelled “GUN!” then before the guy could catch a breath or even pull back the trigger he lay on the floor flopping like a fish. Blood spurted from his mouth, and his teeth were all over the floor. He was not making any purposeful moves. My Sensei had taught me that move just 3 days ago. What it involves is lightening speed and a well placed foot right into the perpetrators’ throat. Essentially the move collapses and fractures the larynx and lower jaw. I had landed on my feet then stood there above him waiting for him to make the next move. He didn’t move. I shrugged my shoulders then walked over to Juan as he had motioned for me to do.

“That is very good Antoine, I had not even seen his weapon. Normally, he gives me the money from that side of his chest. I’ll take care of this … get lost for a couple of days. Here is an extra key to my digs, food is in the refrigerator. I’ll have a car drop you off.” Juan said.

“I’m not really sorry Juan … he was going to …”

“I know. Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”

“No, not really but I will be.” I sad sadly looking down at the man I just killed in cold blood yet he deserved to die because otherwise he would have killed Juan and probably me too.

About an hour later a good looking (did I say that?) cop in uniform showed up in the canteen where Juan had led me to. The ride to Juan’s digs did not take very long. He dropped me off then quickly sped away leaving me standing on the sidewalk with nothing to do. Juan told me to get lost … so I did just that. I took off toward some shops, eateries and a movie theater. The problem was that I only had pesos on me, and not very many of those. Still, I took off in the direction of the eating place, went to the counter and asked if they would take my currency.

“What do you think we are a fuckin bank?” The gal at the order counter snarled then turned around and walked away before I could say anything to thank her for her kind words and excellent customer service skills, whatever.

I left that place, not wanting to eat there even if they had taken the currency. I was not pissed in any way. It was definitely not a 5 star rated eating place, but then nobody asked me for my opinion.

None of the places, including the movie theater took my currency so I took off headed back in the direction of Juan’s home. Arriving there within a half hour I went inside, checked to make sure that I was alone (I was), then sauntered around checking it out. The place was really kewl in that it had all of the latest electronic gadgets, a fully stocked bar, a refrigerator fully stocked, cabinets filled to the maximum, a luxurious bathroom that included a Jacuzzi and walk in shower having 6 heads.

I was definitely hungry. I rummaged around in the refrigerator, found some cold cuts, all types of mustard – I chose Honey Dijon my favorite, onions, green peppers, tomatoes, and finally Pepper Jack cheese. When lunch was fixed, oh yea, the bread was pumpernickel that is also my favorite. I ate up voraciously as if I had not eaten in a week.

I cleaned up after eating by putting everything in its rightful place then took off for the game room where I played several games of pool, something I was very good at by the way. Bored I turned everything off then went into the dining room. The bamboo screens on the doors were closed so I opened them up and was greeted with a fully high-fenced in-ground pool. I went outside to check it out then decided what the hell … so I completely undressed, skimmed the top of the water to remove some bugs that had met their fate by flying into it.

Satisfied that I had waited long enough to prevent the cramps I dove in, swam several laps as fast as I could. Once I’d reached 50, I did a few breast stroke laps then turned over and did a few backstroke laps. I was sufficiently exercised so I got out of the water.

I had forgotten to get a towel so I sat down at the poolside table, stretched out, was thinking of how the nice warm sun felt on my body, and then fell asleep.

Later, I was awoken by a cool breeze, almost chilly, and a loud clap of thunder. A torrential rain started. It was like someone had dumped a pail of ice cold water on my body. I looked at the lone aluminum canopy support and decided that, for sure, I was not in the best of places during an electrical storm. Quickly, I jumped up, ran to the door, opened it and went inside. I realized that I had left my clothes on the pool deck.

I opened the door and stepped outside. The only thing I remember was a bright light…

“Antoine, I’m home.” I called out after opening the door and not finding him in the living room where I entered.

That was odd. Maybe he’s asleep. I checked my bedroom. He wasn’t there. I went to the game room. It too was devoid of the boy named Antoine Garza.

“Antoine, where are you?” I yelled.

No answer.

I walked toward the kitchen and dining room.

Antoine was lying on his back. His abdomen and chest and head were draped on the outside of the condo, the rest of him was half lying inside. The entire entryway was filled with puddles of water; he was soaking wet; he was also unconscious.

I took his pulse. It was normal. I leaned down hoping to find that he was breathing. He was.

I thoroughly felt each and every one of his joints to see if he had fallen and broken something. Everything seemed fine. I then turned my attention to his eyes. I lifted back his eyelids. They constricted when the light hit them. That’s good. I ran my hands down his spine from his head to his tail bone. Nothing felt out of alignment.

As I leaned in to pick him up, he sat up quickly. We knocked heads. Antoine reached around my neck… it wasn’t a hug that he was planning. I jerked his hands away. He fought for a moment. I kept calling his name. Finally, when he took my wrist in a death hold, I slapped him very hard across his face. His head hit the marble floor. I was afraid I had hurt him. I’m glad I didn’t.

I said, “Wake up buddy. You’re breaking my calm image. Come on; wake up; talk to me.”

Juan was kneeling next to my side with a very concerned look on his face. Me? I was woozy, otherwise disoriented, sore and very disturbed at finding myself lying on the dining room floor more or less unable to move. I felt all wet. My jaw hurt. My head hurt.

“What happened?” I asked becoming more aware of my surroundings, my mind still locked within a whirlwind of haze.

“I don’t know … what happened to you? The dining room door was wide open and you were lying in a pool of water where you are right now. I did not move you. Do you feel like sitting up?”

With my awareness returning I replied “Yes.” I was weak as hell. Juan helped me to begin sitting up however when I was about halfway a tremendous urge to toss my stomach contents nearly took me over. I pushed myself out of Juan’s strong arms so I could lie back down. After a few minutes the impulse gradually dissipated although my ears were still ringing and my eyes returned to hazy.

“Okay, don’t move. I will go get some sheets. We’ll put you in one of the recliner chairs.”

A minute or two later Juan returned. He picked me up then bodily carried me to the recliner with the back down level to the floor. He covered me with a sheet then sat down next to me and said, “I did not see or feel any burns on you. You must have been shell shocked by an electrical energy. I have a medical doctor friend who I will call right now. He’ll check you over and will probably stay for dinner as well.”

“Wait a minute. Let me see if my head is okay.” I said then raised the back of the chair up but then another wave of nausea washed over me like I had never before experienced. I broke out in a cold sweat, my temples were pounding, my eyes became incredibly dizzy and once again I became disoriented as to time and place. Juan picked up a small trash can off of the floor next to my chair then put up on my chest – thankfully I did not need it. Quickly he lowered the back of the chair back down to where it had been before. After a few minutes the bad feelings dissipated once again.

I hate doctors. Even when I was a little kid they made fun of my maleness. Two even referred my parents to surgeons for a partial amputation.

“Can we wait a while to see if this passes?”

“It is late Antoine. The time is 10:45pm. Where have you been, child?”

I was shocked at the late hour then said “I guess so.” No, that’s not what I meant to say… try again… “It was in early afternoon when I went swimming. The driver brought me here then drove off. I went looking for some food and for something to do to make the time pass quicker until you arrived home. Nobody would take my form of currency so I came back here, made a sandwich, played some pool then went swimming. I fell asleep but the storm woke me. I came in here then realized my clothes and other stuff was out in the rain. I opened the door and that was the last thing I remember. Until you got here that is.”

“You have probably have suffered a concussion. My doctor friend lives in the condo just upstairs. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay. I won’t go anywhere.” I replied then Juan chuckled as he left.

A few minutes later Juan returned with a man who identified himself as Dr. Mendez.

“Juan tell me you hurt. I test your senses. Me no hurt you.” Dr. Mendez said in a very heavy thick Spanish accent.

Dr. Mendez shone a light in my eyes, moved my head from side to side, tested the reflexes in my arms and legs, listened carefully to my chest, pushed on my belly very lightly then sat down and said “Concussion. Seet child.”

Juan said “Doctor, he about vomited the last time he tried to sit up.”

“I got really dizzy and disoriented too.” I added. Nevertheless I started to sit up then the same symptoms came over me again but this time they were much, much worse, they were much more pronounced. Juan saw what was happening so he grabbed the trash can and made just in time before I tossed my cookies into it.

Mercifully Dr. Mendez laid me back down. He said, “Si. Concussion. I give you shot.”

Now I hate shots worse than I hate doctors. But after quickly half-way assessing the situation I relinquished to him my right butt cheek. He drew up a syringe half way full of a medicine then stuck it through my skin. It stung like crazy and remained stinging even after he withdrew then needle.

“I check him in morning. He get very sleepy soon.”

The next morning I awoke to birds chirping and Juan singing in the shower. What a combination. Juan cannot sing to save his life but this is his place, his castle, and well he can sing to his hearts’ desire.

I needed to pee like nobody’s business. I was also very, very elongated that I attributed to needing to piss so bad. My mouth was very, very dry. It tasted like a herd of cattle had driven through it all the while dropping turd bombs.

As I awoke more fully, the sound of the shower stopped … I realized I was in Juan’s bed. Soft silky sheets lie below and on top of me. I was totally comfortable yet I became anxious with the thought that I had once been sleeping in a strange man’s bed… until I remembered what had happened last night. My tension released, I relaxed back into the comfortable sheets and soft mattress.

A couple of minutes later Juan came out of his private bathroom totally naked, and his manhood was leading the way, or so it appeared. I could not help it – I stared at its length and girth, I could not take my eyes off of it for several seconds. Juan laughed “You likey? Don’t worry, it belongs to someone else. I like yours too. By the time you are older you will be like me.”

Without any warning, tears came to my eyes, fell onto my cheeks, drained into my ears then rolled out onto the silky pillow cover lying beneath my head. Juan chuckled then said “I too was ashamed. Don’t worry. The right person will come along – believe it. How are you feeling this morning?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t moved yet.” I replied truthfully. Slowly, I turned onto my side then put my legs over the side then just laid there for a moment. No dizziness. No disorientation, so far so good.

The moment of truth was about to arrive. Slowly I brought my head up and off of the pillow then stopped about halfway up to do a sensory check. Other than being slightly dizzy that did not include an urge to puke, I was okay so I rose up to a sitting position with my eyes still closed.

Juan came over, sat next to me after he had put on underwear then put his hand on my back to steady me. Next, I opened my eyes up widely. Same good results. I looked at Juan then smiled happily. He handed me a tissue that I used to wipe my face. I’d slobbered profusely during the night.

“Let’s stand you up and see how that goes.” Juan said gently. I was worried though, my dick was very, very erect, as erect as it had ever been.

Juan, reading my hesitation said “Stand up. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Do not be embarrassed. I’ll wrap the sheet around you if you would feel better, no?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ve got to pee.” That said I stood up, and while I felt a little bit woozy I was able to walk into the bathroom where I unleashed the mighty snakes’ contents into the toilet bowl.

“Are you okay in there?” Juan said from the other room when my stream stopped.

“Yes, I’m good. What a relief that was.” I said.

Juan giggled then said “Go ahead, take a shower, I’ll get your clothes out of the dryer for you to put on. I’ll be right back.”

To be continued

The Warrior – Part 3

Published: 05 Jun 2014

The following day Juan sent me on my last assignment. The assignment would be easy… he promised. I believed him. He deposited $30,000.00 into a US bank account – I watched him make the transaction.

I would be sent to a municipality named Isla de la Juventud, Cuba where I would pick up a ‘load’ and ‘carry’ it to Corpus Christi, Texas. He provided names of people I would meet along the way and he gave assurances that they were good people just doing their job.

When we arrived at the airport and just before walking into the terminal I did something I’d never done to a ‘supplier’… I reached for a hug. He returned the gesture. I said, “I hope we get to see each other again… under different circumstances though.”

“I do too Antoine. I’m getting out of the business. I’m finished with doing wrong things. Some activities are just ‘wrong’. Be safe kiddo. I’ll watch your back.”

With that I walked into the terminal and then found customs and passed their security checkpoint.

I arrived in Corpus Christi, was taken to a ‘safe place’, a beach house on the north shore of Padre Island where I was gently purged just as Juan had done to me.

The bad part of the transaction: unknowing to Juan, I was ordered to do another ‘run’. I had no choice in the matter. Oh I could have refused but I’d not be writing this account of my life. Instead, I would have just disappeared off the face of the earth, just like I’d heard accounts of by other youthful ‘runners’, and threatened with from dealers. Whether or not the stories were a ruse made no difference to me.

In any event, the ‘load’ consisted of 30 smaller packets (smaller than the ones my father gave to me to ‘carry’). They were easily swallowed. I was careful to not touch them with my teeth.

The good thing is that the ‘contact’ person had taken me to a consulate where I was given a ‘legal’ United States birth certificate, other validation identification, and return ticket should I have chosen to use it. He promised me ‘elite’ status thereafter because I had proven myself to be loyal, consistent and dependable. My father was respected. (In hindsight… if only the contact ‘really’ knew the truth of my father… but I digress.)

Arriving in Corpus Christi, I went to customs because I had come from a foreign country. I showed them my birth certificate, my passport, my identification, and a calm and assured attitude.

They had a pair of dogs trained to sniff out drugs. As has been the case, the dogs were quite ‘invasive’. One of the dogs stuck his nose into my butt hard, sniffed repeatedly, and then it began licking the seat of my pants, and then finally retreated but he stood at attention. I got nervous as hell. My pits got wet with perspiration. A bead of sweat furrowed its way to just above my eyebrows. My pulse quickened.

The security officer, seeing the dogs’ reaction and my own reaction took me to a small alcove room where told me to strip to my underwear and submit to a body search. Of course my skin was clear of any evidence. A woman then entered the room.

“Our expertly trained dogs indicate a matter of concern. I am a doctor hired by and supported by the Department of Homeland Security. I will examine you. If all goes well then you will be escorted to our next checkpoint and allowed to proceed to your destination.”

She did not say what would happen to me if I were to fail. I could only imagine. I was on business so I wasn’t really in a position to imagine anything. At the same time I wasn’t too worried… mainly because I wasn’t experiencing any urges to relieve my bowels. She did a body cavity search of my rectum with her trained finger, and then she, much to my consternation and embarrassment pulled down the front of my underwear. She gently pushed aside my complacent prong after examining it very carefully. I asked her what she was looking for. When she was finished, and after she found nothing of consequence she said, “Some boys have had their scrotum incised and filled with ‘contraband’. I thought that to be odd but, from experience, knew that some dealers were ruthless and persistent.” I shuddered.

No worse for the wear I was permitted to get dressed and go on about my way.

The final checkpoint consisted of two more dogs trained in sniffing out explosives. I passed with flying colors. I was permitted to go to my destination gate.

Juan had given me a $100.00 currency. I was hungry so I went to a Cinnamon Sam restaurant where I ordered and subsequently ate a cinnamon roll and drank a large glass of milk.

When I arrived back at the gate they were boarding for Chicago. I’d not been permitted to view my tickets until that time. I’d not paid attention – which was a bad thing on my part.

We arrived several hours later at O’Hare airport where I was whisked off to a purge point, purged, and then I had to submit to yet another ‘load’.

The same series of events occurred in New York City, Cleveland, Atlanta, Orlando, Denver, Salt Lake City and finally Los Angeles. Since I was flying on valid verifiable identification I was not subjected to strip searches, dogs, or by other mannerisms.

The ‘people’ in Los Angeles were different though. They were royal assholes. I was given, forced to ingest a massive ‘load’ – 45 small packets in total.

I was then put on a plane to Honolulu with instructions to meet a man named Chin Wu who would both purge me and provide yet another shipment of comparable content.

I wondered why Juan had lied to me. Whatever, you don’t trust those in the ‘occupation’ no matter what they say. Words are words. Actions are actions. Truths are debatable, at times.

After we’d been airborne for one hour ten minutes I felt a tremendous urge to defecate. I was cramping like hell, my bowels were rumbling, I felt nausea, my head felt like it was going to explode, and I felt hot liquid building up against that muscle that keeps things in under normal circumstances. When I began sweating profusely, when my temples were pounding like a hammer was beating them to death, when my vision began to blur I thought only the worst possible scenario. I remembered what Juan had said about ‘runners’ having ruptured product. I was afraid I was going to die.

At about the same time, when my endurance was questionable, a steward made his rounds checking on passengers. He noticed my distress. He called a stewardess. The stewardess felt that I was experiencing air sickness.

When I felt my hole begin to leak, I quickly asked them if they had any large baggies that had the capability of being sealed. They said they didn’t. The were perplexed why I would need such a thing so in the absence of that I grabbed up barf bags, and then with their assistance I headed into the restroom, closed and locked the door, got my pants and underwear down and sat on the toilet, arranged the bag then released enough methane gas to fuel the airplane enough that would allow it to fly to any destination in the world. Thankfully those steel toilets in airplanes have a trap door on them because I had to use two of the barf bags for purposes of retaining the ‘stuff’ to sift through for product. Once the gas passed the cramps began. I had never before had anything happen like that ever before. Soon, thankfully, solids began pumping out of me which immediately relieved my distress. Assured that I was finished, I wiped up, pulled my pants to their intended position, zipped up then buttoned everything closed. Carefully, I looked through the mud and muck then finding no trace of any product, I flushed (twice), then after washing my hands thoroughly returned to my seat.

After the plane landed in Honolulu, I was met by a Chinese man who gruffly grabbed me by my underarm and pulled me away from the disembarking passengers. Quickly, I took his finger, squeezed its web space with maybe 10 percent, no more, of my strength. Immediately he let go with a pain induced scowl on his face, and with a different attitude. He was not a nice guy, and was persistent. Next he put his arm around my shoulders and when it was in a position HE wanted it to be in, he squeezed the muscle going from my neck to my shoulder. “Accidentally” I stepped on his foot with the ball of mine. He released me quickly. All of this happened with neither of us saying a single word to each other or to anyone else. Nobody looked at us with any concern or suspicion.

When we arrived at the extraction point, he once again put his arm around my shoulders but this time he did not squeeze. He was just reminding me of my place in life with him, which was like a package in a supermarket that meant nothing to anyone other than the person unpacking it. No problem, I was used to it by then.

Because I had prepared myself naturally on the plane the initial portion of the extraction went well however things got very, uhm what is the right thing to say here? Forced? Brutal? Yeah, both.

Finally, I could take no more of the irrigation procedures, forceps and brutal manual methods he was using. “I must rest. I must walk around for a while.”

Quickly, I rolled onto my side then off of the bed. I walked into the bathroom, tore off a wad of paper and cleaned up the best I could without taking a shower. He followed me in as he should have. I peed, I had to. There would be no discussion.

While I was peeing he started laughing hysterically and pointing to my fully elongated maleness. The way he laughed and the way he pointed at me … well … I took it as an insult to my honor as a man. But I did nothing; I just took it all in. I am not a fighter. I am a defender. Defense of honor does not require retaliation – such retaliatory action is childishness.

When I finished peeing, while I was washing my hands he grabbed me from behind then held me against the large expansive sink, definitely against my will. Once again the ball of my foot landed squarely on the top of his. He howled in pain, but nothing was broken, nothing was intended to be broken … but it was enough for him to release his hold.

Very calmly, I turned around looked him directly in his eyes then said, “There will be no more of that. We both have a stake in what we are doing. You need me. I need you. Let’s get this over so we can each go our separate ways. You hurt me… I will definitely hurt you. Are we clearly understood?”

Chin barely nodded but his motion was enough for me to understand that he understood.

I had no urge to release anything more from my hidden place after walking around his apartment naked with him watching me lustily for a little over half an hour. Much to his dismay I reached for my clothing and began getting dressed. “I’m going to the beach to walk around. This is not cutting it.”

He started bitching and complaining. When I got tired of him whining I said “Shut up asshole. I know when I have to go and when I do not. I am going for a walk on the beach. Would you care to follow me?”

That said I left the extraction room, headed for the door then bounded down the stairway and began walking toward the beach. Asshole caught up with me in a flash but stayed a respectful enough distance away so as to not draw any attention from people walking along the sidewalk. Just to fuck with this guy, I sprinted down to the next intersection, stopped and waited for him to catch up. He was panting, and he was sweating. The scowl was now largely wiped from his face.

Very slowly, very carefully he brought his face up so that his mouth was directly in front of my ear then said quietly “Stop fucking with me. I will slice you open.” That said, he brandished a fishing filet knife and laid it across my stomach just above the waist band of my pants. I looked down and saw the point of it lying in my innie belly button but did not notice anything wrong until he took the blade away. It had a trace of blood on it. Mine. At the sight of my own blood, I tensed up, my senses became hypersensitive and I felt the blood coursing through my veins … yet I was able to restrain myself. We had two hours to get those packets out of me else they would begin dissolving – and kill me – and there would be nothing I could do to stop it from happening.

“We have an understanding. I must walk more though. I am not yet ready.”

He nodded then grinned. If I were a fighter then he would have surely been hung up as a decoration on top of the nearest palm tree. His grin was utterly disgusting.

After walking another mile down the beach, we reached Ala Moana Park which sprawls along two city blocks. I turned to Chin then said “The time is near, we must go now.”

By the time we arrived back at the hotel, I was cramping very similarly to what it was like on the airplane. Once the door was open I started tearing clothes off until I was naked. I jumped up on the table then started unloading just as he got the pan in place beneath my butt.

When the cramps ceased, when I felt totally empty, when I started to get up to clean myself, he said “There is one more to go.”

I got up and off of the table anyway. I walked to where he put the other bags and carefully counted all the baggies. I counted 29 bags, not counting the one bag in his tightly closed fist that he did not know I saw. The baggies are oblong. I am unable to hide one in my hand since I have small hands, comparatively speaking. This man has equally small hands. He just about convinced himself the baggie was entirely concealed; only he did not know that a tiny corner of one presented. The white baggie is a dead giveaway, a very stark contrast to the color of his skin.

“No sir, our business nearly complete. Do not dishonor yourself by lying to me.” I said very calmly as I walked toward him.

When I arrived in front of him I said very calmly “Open your hand or I will open it for you if that is what you want me to do.”

“I ought to gut you like a pig but I will not. Get your things. Get out of here.”

This job was much different than the previous ones in that I would be collecting payday for my father. The contact in Corpus Christi only told me this as I boarded the flight for Honolulu. I had said, “I have never taken a payment before. I have never been alone with a buyer either.” But my complaints were all to no avail. He told me “You have proven your worthiness Antoine. Your father is waiting. Go. Bless you.”

“Our business is not finished.” I said evenly while looking Chin directly into his eyes. His soul was very dark, almost opaque but not quite.

Suddenly realizing I did not even know how much to collect, I became worried. I did not want to disappoint my father, or at least I did not want to disappoint him any more than he already was, remembering his talk to me before I left on this journey.

Chin was smart. I will give him credit for that even though he was stupid in every other way. He read me like a book, he saw my doubt, and he saw uncertainty passing through my eyes.

– Meanwhile in the Garza hotel room on the Waikiki strip –

Maria: Armando, where is our son? He should have been here hours ago. He will be hungry.

Armando: He will be along soon. This is a test for him. He is Mr. Big Man in his own eyes. Here is his test. Be quiet now mother of my son.

Maria: He is your son too. He is but a boy. Let him grow up Armando. He will only be a child once.

Armando: Be quiet woman.

Maria: If he dies then God will kill your soul. You will carry his blood on your hands. I will divorce you. You will die alone.

Armando walked over to Maria then raised his hand angrily to slap her but she said, “Armando, if you touch me so help me I will kill you, and if you kill me then Antoine will kill you. I swear it. He will search the world for you then you will meet your fate. I will laugh at you from my grave.”

Armando: You are nothing woman. Without me you are worthless. Without me you have no son. He is abnormal Maria. You know I treat you right in that way, in every way.

Maria: You do nothing but hurt that child whenever and however you can. You always have. What is wrong with you? You embarrass him to his friends.

Armando: <Screaming> I KNOW WHAT IS RIGHT AND JUST FOR MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD, WOMAN. YOU WILL OBEY ME. YOU WILL SHUT UP. YOU WILL NOT DISRESPECT ME! I COMMAND YOU TO STOP.

That said Maria went into the room they shared at night. Crying she put her head into the pillow filled with distraught, defeat and dismissal.

Armando entered the room, stripped his clothes off then pushed his wife onto her stomach. He ripped whatever dignity that she might have had away from her in every way. Finished, he dressed quietly, left the hotel room where he had defiled his wife. He strode down the sidewalk purposefully, with intent, with malice yet with a determination to shut his wife up once and for all.

Arriving at the extraction point, he knocked on the door loudly, viciously and without any regard for people who may have been trying to sleep, or making love to their mate, or the various other things that vacationing people do behind closed doors.

Thinking quickly on my feet as I had been taught to do, as has been demanded of me, I said “Pay me now. If you do not pay me then you will pay my father.”

Very calmly, with an air of glibness Chin said, “How much do I owe you?” Then he started laughing that sick and sadistic laughter.

“One million.”

An incredulous look passed over Chin’s face then shock registered then disgust then anger then rage. Within his rage he walked to me then stood in front of my face and screamed spraying spittle all over me, “You know not what of you ask. You will take one hundred thousand. Take it to your father. Tell him I spat in his face.”

With that he spat in my face.

Every fiber in my being wanted to attack. Spitting in a man’s face is the ultimate disregard and disrespect and dismissal. But then I stood down realizing I was but a child. It is the way of honor to respect elders no matter what.

The words of my Sensei rang through my mind, “Do not use money for life. You are a defender not an offender. You are not a slave to money. Show your true honor. Stand your ground, be assertive but respectful.”

“That is not acceptable.” I said to Chin as I met him face to face, nose to nose, chin to chin. I felt fire. I felt on fire. No, not hot fire, no not pain fire. No, no I was sucking his rage and anger into me. Quickly I stepped back in a defensive stance, assumed a position of aggression. My Sensei’s voice once again said, “Do not strike in anger. Be calm. Experience peace and tranquility; bring peace, joy, not anger, not rage, and not death when you are disrespected.”

Without question, doubt or fear I said to Mr. Wu, “One million dollars.” I said calmly but assertively.

“You are a weakling, BOY.”

With that he lunged with a twirl, focused, exacting, avenging my challenge of authority, avoiding conflict with a mere child by asserting power and reining terror and strength.

Easily, I stepped aside. He landed on his feet yet not before crashing into the brick wall behind me.

Quicker than lightening, he lashed out striking me hard in the gut knocking me to the floor.

I disregarded the normal panic a human experiences by having their breath knocked away. I sprang to me feet and met his next blow aimed toward my head with a swift kick to the inside of his thigh. He landed on the floor. I stepped aside, out of his direct line of fire as he did a spinning top in an effort to bring me to his level. I smiled. Smiling is the worst thing you can do to a fellow warrior in offense. The blow I delivered was not meant to be fatal -or- worse yet: disabling.

He sprang forth. His speed was faster than lightening. It was faster than I anticipated. He performed a dishonorable jump kick to my head. I failed to reach his ankle. I had decided to disable this attacker. Add to that: his next move fooled me.

With lightening speed and using a skill I had never before seen I found myself face down on the floor with him on top of me. I could not move because he had both my arms and legs held together like toothpicks. I was about to break under his pressures. The silhouette of his reining supremacy over my mortal body shocked me. Not only was he ready to deliver a lethal blow, he was also poised with his filet knife. I was resigned to be ‘dead meat’. I knew I would be filleted into small bite sized chunks and then tossed to the sharks.

His momentum was however stopped short. Very loud, angry, rage filled and repetitive knocks on the door interrupted his concentration but for a second. In a millisecond, probably less, I was able to break from his hold. The first thing I did was to raise up just far enough to knock the filet knife from his hand. It landed 3 paces away. The next was to spin like a torpedo to where he was sitting on my belly. Quickly I reached up and put my thumb into his eye socket. With determination but with a sense of restraint I pushed my thumb up and inward very hard yet not hard enough to kill him though I could have very easily.

The door continued to be pounded. Yet, Mr. Wu wasn’t finished with his assault… or so he thought. He wormed away out of my hold and then with his full body weight behind him he came in for the kill. Instead of connecting with my neck… with very little effort I deflected it. Not only did I deflect it but he was in such a position that I could, and did toss him into the air in an arc. While he was up and flying I stood up quicker than he could land. I punched him in the sternum. The sound of crunching bone was easily heard.

He screamed with agony at the connection.

Meanwhile the incessant knocking on the door demanded immediate attention so since I was standing and he wasn’t I went to the door looked through the peep hole and when I saw it was my father, I opened the door to let him in.

“Poco, why are you so long with answering the door?” My father asked as he pushed past me then when he saw Chin on the floor he turned around to look at me. “Why is he on the floor? He is our main contact here on the islands you stupid fool.”

My heart dropped from my chest then it landed on my feet. I took a step back. I looked to the door that remained open. I took one step forward. I was met by my father’s unbridled rage.

I said to the man who had sired me, “Do not force me to defend my body, my father. I love you. I respect you. I owe it to you, my father.”

My father raised his arm, doubled his fist, and took one step toward me. I assumed a defensive stance. Yet, when I went to garner my warrior strength, stamina, concentration, acute vision, acute hearing and the impetus to strike out… I felt weak. I knew he would pummel me to the ground… and perhaps kill me.

Tears sprang from my eyes thus blurring my vision. I felt myself go into pure unadulterated kill mode. I said to my father, the man who I’d loved from birth, “Do not do it father.”

He hesitated. I stood down. The moment had arrived. I had told my father what to do.

My father smiled. Calmly he said, “Go. Get out of here. You are weak. I will not kill my own son though you deserve to be dead. You are dead poco. You are nothing to me.”

With that he walked up, stuck his face in mine then spat angrily striking me face with burning venomous spittle fluid. I said to my father as he stepped away thus clearing my exit from the hotel room, “You are dead to me. You are wise by not striking me. I will leave now. I will go to my mother. She permits me to honor and respect her. If she is hurt or dead… I promise you father: I will search you down. When I find you, you will be dead.”

“You are a weakling. You have dishonored Mr. Wu. Go to your momma. Hold her coat tails. You cannot stand on your own two feet. Go on. Get out of here before I reconsider.”

With a calm terror he said, “Remember poco, I brought you into this world. I can take you out just as fast. Now GO. BE RID OF YOURSELF!”

“I love you father. Good bye.” I said then headed back down to the beach where I had walked earlier in the evening. Arriving at the park, I lay on one of the picnic tables then wept deeply. When my weeping was finished I got up then ran to the hotel they were staying in.

My mother met me at the door. She looked terrible, as if she had been crying – yes, she was still crying then let loose when I took her into my arms. I held her tightly as she wailed her pain and frustrations out.

As if a light turned on in her head, she pulled away then looked me in the eyes and said, “I am sorry son. I am selfish. Ohh Poco, I am so glad to see you. But you have to go. Your father is so angry at you. He just called cursing me for giving birth to you. I have some money. Let me get it.”

She released herself from my arms then went into her room. Soon, she returned with a wad of bills in her hands then stuffed them into my pants pockets. She kissed me on my mouth then pushed me out the door and into the world. She slammed the door shut. I heard her scream. I beat on the door pleading, crying and wailing to let me inside to comfort her. There was no answer but I heard her crying.

Those were the last words I heard directly from my mother.

I went in search of my father. I tossed the words of my Sensei from my mind with causal disregard and dismissal. This man, he who calls me his bastard, has hurt my mother. He will pay. He will pay with his life. I swore to God with a solemn oath. I crossed my heart.

I arrived back at Wu’s suite. He was gone. My father was gone. The product was gone. I checked each and every room. They were empty. On the spot, I aborted my mission to find and kill my father. God forgive me.

I was a bad son. I dishonored him in some way. He said so. He was always right.

With contrition in my heart, wandering aimlessly on the streets, cold, hungry, desperate and destitute I stopped by a church, found the door was unlocked then opened it only to find the inside was totally dark save for a few votive candles slightly lighting the tall ceilings. I immediately felt at home though. I wanted darkness to surround me. This was the place.

I walked down to the front of the members’ pews, genuflected reverently then knelt down gathered my strength… but strength was elusive. After a moment to steal my reserves, I cried out in despair, “Dear Jesus, please give me strength to obey my father and mother as a good son should do. I have tried but I fail every time <I wailed my pain into the darkness>. Please show me how to be a good son as were you. I am sorry for my tears. It is a sign of weakness. I am sorry for being weak. Please give me strength and knowledge to be a good boy. Please make my dad proud of me. I am sorry but I have sinned from lust. I promise I will use pepper. I will use lots of it. I will rub my penis hard to make it raw and sore then I will put the pepper on it. I promise. Please forgive me. Amen.”

I was sobbing, intermittently wailing, then sobbing some more in my pain, in my loneliness, in my shame, in my guilt, in my hatred of myself, in pleading for my father to love me and for my God to forgive me.

With total and complete and utter despair pervading each and every pore of my being, I closed my eyes.

Sometime later I awoke to a presence. I felt comforted. And I felt strong. And I felt loved. And I felt accepted. And, for a few seconds, I felt safe.

“Thank you Jesus. I will go now and be a good son to be proud of knowing that I will honor my parents no matter what I think.”

I broke down sobbing again when I felt the hands of my Creator wrap my shoulders in a protective, strength building and comforting hug.

Those arms pulled me in and held me firmly, lovingly, and with strength I had never before known. Easily I fell to sleep.

To be continued

The Warrior – Part 4

Published: 05 Jun 2014

Before I even woke up completely, before I had opened my eyes, I sensed that I was in a different place than where I had been the previous night. No, I wasn’t afraid. Instead I felt comfortable, comforted, and really okay. I was being held in a man’s arms… I felt the hairs of his arm on my own. I took a quick inventory: I was sore from the beating the previous day, I was dressed, I was alive… my mental faculties… well I felt peace, well beings all around, safe and protected for once.

I chanced a look at this man holding me in his arms. His eyes were closed, he had big bushy eyebrows and a head of sandy beach white hair, his face with a ruddy complexion yet at the same time his facial features were gentle and reassuring.

I couldn’t remember ever feeling the way I was… not even when I was a little kid but I quickly pushed my childhood away when the man’s’ eyes opened. His immediate reaction was a smile from ear to ear. Sleepily he said, “Good morning little one.”

I replied, “Good morning, where am I?”

“You’re at the Mission on the Beach. My name is Father Ben.”

“I am Antoine. It is nice to meet you. How did I get here? I was in church…”

“I brought you here. Do you have any complaints?”

“Oh no sir, I’m not complaining. Thanks. I guess I was a mess?”

Just then my tummy grumbled and rumbled its protests about hunger. I needed to get up and find somewhere to pee yet I was so comfortable with a kind and gentle man holding me safely in his arms.

Not wanting that moment to ever end, reluctantly I worked my way up to a standing position. My cock was straining at its confines. Quickly, I looked down only to find its silhouette clearly outlined. It had fallen out of my underwear. I turned away from Father Ben and made a couple of major adjustments. Satisfied, I turned to face him, “Sorry.”

He disregarded my apology and urged me back into his arms. Contrary to my long previously held resentment toward older men, I did as he asked and what I really wanted to do. He squeezed me tight but not menacingly tight… it was just right. I relaxed. Though I needed to pee badly I decided it could wait a short while. I asked, “Were you here with me all night?”

“I was. We all need someone sometimes child. What is your name?”

“Antoine. Antoine Garza.”

“It is nice to meet your acquaintance Master Antoine Garza. Whatever are you doing out here all alone?”

“Uhm, it’s a long story. I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll just go.”

That said I got up and started to walk away but Father Ben said, “Wait. I’m sorry. I’m sure you have your reasons. I’ll stop asking questions. Just know that I’ll listen if or when you’re ready, okay?”

Father Ben stood. He was waiting for a reply.

I nodded.

He asked, “Can I offer you some breakfast? Our housekeeper makes killer breakfasts around here… I’m sure we could wrestle up some bacon, eggs, hash browns, and perhaps a fruit or two… will you join me? You are certainly welcome to leave anytime you want.”

I regarded him carefully. He was sincere. I relaxed and let my guard down… I felt safe.

He extended his arm invitingly. I joined him and he put his arm around my shoulders and we walked to the rectory, up the steps and into an ante room. A faint smell of frying bacon hit my nostrils. My tummy rumbled and gurgled loudly but before I could ever think about eating I had to pee. I asked Father Ben, “Uhm, can I use the restroom, please?”

Father Ben led the way to the bathroom. He said, “Here you go. When you get finished just come on down the hallway. We have plenty of food.”

I nodded, went into the bathroom, closed the door then unleashed a mighty stream into the open toilet bowl. I had to pee so bad that when the stream began my fingers tingled. I didn’t think I would ever get finished but after about a minute and two gallons later I squeezed out the last remaining squirts then shook it one more time than is the usual case. My snake was fully erect. I debated on sitting down and taking care of matters but the need to eat something overtook all other desires. After putting it back in its resting place I washed my hands and went to the kitchen.

Father Ben was sitting in a chair facing the direction I came from. He smiled, “Better?”

I nodded just as this smiling lady turned away from the stove where she was cooking up some food that was titillating my taste buds beyond their capability. She reminded me of a grandmotherly type person. Ample bosoms adorned her chest; her white silky hair adorned her pleasantly plump but not obese face.

Father Ben stood, walked to me and said, “Meet Mildred. She is our domestic engineer. She keeps this place organized. She feeds me well. What more can a guy ask for?

After introductions Mildred said, “Sit child. Rest your bones. I’ll get you a plate dished up.”

I did as instructed, put a cloth napkin on my lap, and waited with my hands across my napkin for my plate to be served. I was anticipating maybe a piece of bacon and perhaps an egg or two.

My anticipations were entirely wrong, once again. Instead of morsels, Mildred placed a very full plate of bacon, eggs, hash browns, buttered toast and a banana. She said, “You get started, I’ll bring you a bowl of cereal and cream.”

I looked to Father Ben without taking my hands from my lap. His eyes softened considerably, even more than they already were, “Go ahead Antoine. Mildred, let’s say grace so this boy can get started shoveling…”

Mildred walked over. She took my hand and Father Ben’s hands in hers. She looked to me expectantly. Father Ben bowed his head, Mildred did top. As the blessing I said, “Dear Father… thank you for this meal to nourish our bodies. Grant us peace, serenity and prosperous lives. Please bless my parents, they need you. Amen.”

“Amen.” Father Ben said reverently.

“Amen.” Mildred replied.

“That was a nice prayer Antoine. Thank you for asking for God’s grace. You do know the short version don’t you?”

“Short version of what?” I asked curiously.

“The prayer… usually boys your age say or thinking something along the lines of, ‘Grace!'”

I giggled, “I’ve never heard that before. I’ll try and remember it but I have no occasion to use it. Thank you for a beautiful breakfast.”

“Go ahead; get eating before it gets cold.” Mildred admonished mildly.

Father Ben nodded.

Everything tasted so wonderful… I couldn’t and wouldn’t stop… and didn’t stop until every single everlasting morsel was devoured.

Father Ben and Mildred both looked up from their plates. All of a sudden I felt guilty for not pacing myself to their eating habits, “Sorry ma’am for my rudeness. Please forgive me.”

“Oh honey. I should know better than to get in the way of a hungry teenage boy and his food. Are you still hungry?”

I shrugged my shoulders thinking that one of the sins of the world is gluttony. Mildred faked a scowl on her face. She had a gleam in her eyes so I knew the scowl was just a ruse. I replied, “Yes ma’am. A little bit.”

She got up from the table leaving her food to get cold and fetched a bowl from the cabinet. She also retrieved a banana from the fruit basket like thing. She peeled it and threw the peeling in the garbage. She poured me a bowl of wheat bran and then began cutting up the banana into it. She then went to the refrigerator where she poured cream on the cereal then put it in front of me. I said, “I’ve never had bananas on my cereal.”

Mildred replied, “Try it. I think you’ll like it.”

I took a big scoop of cereal with a banana slice in it then put it into my mouth and started chewing. Oh my, I’d found heaven. I took another bite. Like a vacuum cleaner the bowl was just as clean as was my plate. Totally accidentally and incidentally a burp escaped my throat. I was totally embarrassed. Another one escaped which put the first one to shame. I bowed my head reverently filled with shame and then said, “I’m sorry. May I be excused?”

Father Ben quickly said, “I would prefer you sit with us. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve done everything right.”

I waited for hell to pay… for a second or two I thought he was lying to me. My dad always… well never mind. Instead of getting knocked off my chair and receiving a verbal lashing they went on about their breakfast.

Mildred asked, “So where you from? You don’t have to answer… I am just curious. Hawaii is a multicultural state with people from all over the world.”

I looked at Father Ben. He was looking at me expectantly yet both his and Mildred’s eyes were soft and kind. I volunteered, “My family, they travel extensively all of my life. I think I was born in Brazil.”

Father Ben offered, “I could tell you were extensively traveled. You’re quite smart and refined. You’re very polite and articulate also which are great qualities in a young person.”

Mildred asked, “Honey, I do not mean to meddle… okay… where are your parents? Do they know where you are?”

“Ma’am, please excuse me. Father Ben, I must go.”

With that I got up from the table even while not being excused. My father had said many times that I was a defiant, selfish and ungrateful person during my training exercises. That made me mad and I always worked harder and harder.

“I’m sorry. I must go. Thank you.”

Mildred took my hand in hers. She stood up, pushed her chair aside and offered her arms out to me in a hug invitation way. Her eyes were soft and gentle. She said, “You don’t have to answer my question child. I’m concerned that you’re on your own. How old are you?”

“I’m 13.” Thinking, I reached into my pocket and retrieved my birth certificate. I looked at it carefully, did a quick math computation. “I’m sorry ma’am… I’m 14. The date was last week. I have been, as you say, traveling extensively.”

“You missed your birthday?” Mildred asked sadly.

“I have only one birthday ma’am. I can’t change it.”

“No honey, I’m not asking you to change it. Oh sweetie.”

She cupped her hands under my jaws, lifted them up so that we could see one another in our eyes, and then said, “Antoine, in this country most families celebrate birthday anniversaries. It’s a token to help people feel that they’re special and blessed to be here and to share lives. Quite frankly, sometimes I feel they’re overrated… especially when you get to be my age!” Mildred finished while giggling.

“Oh no ma’am. You are not old. You deserve respect, unlike me.” I replied honestly.

“What do you mean ‘unlike me’? You’re here; you’re alive; you’re a fine young man in the prime of your life. I don’t understand why you think that way? Help me to understand.” Mildred replied… oh no… her eyes were filling with tears.

What did I say wrong? Did I do something wrong? I’ve hurt her. Oh my God.

“Father Ben, do talk some sense into this young man. Antoine, so many kids think they are the cock of the walk, that their crap doesn’t stink, that they are the gift to the world, that they are invincible, and that they can talk to their elders in any way they want including total and complete disrespect… and you talk bad about yourself? Son, I don’t know where you came from but you can stay here for as long as you need to. In no way do we feel that you are disrespectful… you are a beautiful child. You are loveable. And you deserve to be loved. That’s that, don’t argue with me.” Mildred said seriously yet her grandmotherly side took over. Rather than waiting for me to go to her she enveloped me into her arms and pulled my head deeply into her bosom.

Father Ben joined us. He wrapped his broad expansive arms around the both of us and held on tight. Try as I might… my strong reserves utterly failed my discipline. At first tears started slowly falling from my eyes… I couldn’t easily accept what Mildred said yet I did. Somewhere deep inside I felt that I was okay or could be okay in time. Mildred then began rubbing my head with her soft yet sturdy hands. She then held my neck to her chest. Father Ben would squeeze every now and again. I felt so safe, so loved, and yes I felt cherished – something I had not felt in a very long time, if ever.

I slowly raised my arms and put one around Mildred’s waist and the other one around Father Ben’s. I allowed them to love me. And I permitted myself to unequivocally allow my love to pass into them hopefully as strong as their love was passing into me.

During our bonding moment, I sobbed a few times and as hard as I tried to remain strong I was largely successful.

Our moment slowly passed. Mildred released me. I looked up into her eyes… they were wet as were her cheeks. Father Ben also had shed tears both in his eyes and on his cheeks.

I said, “My parents… my parents, they mean well. I know they love me in their own way. I love and honor them but it is not enough. I’m sorry; I must go before you hate me too.”

Mildred said softly, “Don’t believe everything you hear child. Listen to your heart. Hear your spirit. Neither will ever steer you wrong.”

I decided to leave things where they were. After one last hug Mildred announced, “Antoine, do not deny me the pleasure of running your bath water for you. I used to do it for my children each and every day they were home. They loved receiving just as much as I enjoyed giving to them. I will wash your back.”

I tightened up, ashamed and embarrassed I replied, “Oh no ma’am, I am sorry but I have abnormalities…”

“Antoine, two of my sons had spinal bifida. They were horribly deformed. Both died during their first month of life. But you know what?”

I looked into Mildred’s eyes. I saw pain, longing and regret. “You love them. You always have. Not a day goes by that you don’t think of them.”

“That’s right. I got to bathe them in the hospital before they went Home. They were my oldest children. My husband, God rests his soul, and I just about gave up. Well, God had other plans because he gave us 9 healthy children. They are all doing well and are healthy. I will run your bath and I will wash your back. You have nothing different than any of my other sons. By the way, they asked for me to not wash their backs after age 15… you’re 13, no you’re 14, right?”

“Yes ma’am. Okay. I know when to not argue.” I chuckled.

“Good. I knew you would see it my way.” Mildred chortled.

Father Ben nodded smiling all the while.

“Yes ma’am.” I replied respectfully.

Quicker than lightening, Mildred grabbed me in the armpit and squeezed. That is the only place where I am ticklish. How did she know that?

In any event that gesture broke any remaining tension. I helped (as much as she would allow me to help) her clear the dishes. I wiped while she washed. We talked about many things but nothing really serious. She left my family alone and didn’t ask any more questions about it.

When we finished she looked deeply into my eyes, “How about that bath?”

I nodded.

“Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll get your bath started. When you are cleansing your body I will go find some clothes that I think will fit. Most of the kids who wander through here are younger than you are but I think we’ll have something in your size.”

With that said she led me to the bathroom. Without hesitation, while she knelt down and started the water spigots flowing I took off my shoes, socks and shirt. While the bath was running she stood up, turned me around away from her then lifted the back of my jeans and underwear out. “Size 14 underwear and 26 jeans. Did you get that Ben?”

When she didn’t receive a reply she stated as a matter of fact, “Men!”

I giggled. She gave me a wary smile then pinched my underarm again. Of course that cracked me up again though that time I farted. She smiled but stopped her tickling. Besides, and I did not tell her, I do not like to be tickled. Period.

When the water was at the appropriate level, she tested it for temperature. Finding it adequate she gave me a quick hug and assurance she’d bring my clothes when she returned to wash my back.

She left. I finished getting undressed, sat down on the toilet, exited certain presents for the sewer system, and then wiped up and got into the bathtub. It was perfect. The water was just right. I lay back in the tub and just relaxed like I’d never relaxed before. I was so relaxed that my serpent felt safe enough to rise to the occasion. Idly I diddled with it, and it very much liked the attention being paid to it.

I closed my eyes and rested them. Unable to stop the depravity of my hands I grasped my member with both hands and slowly massaged the serpent into standing up proudly. The moment was quickly arriving. No, it wasn’t at the moment of truth but it was very, very close.

Just then the door to the bathroom opened. It was Mildred. Quickly, I sat up, squeezed my hard member up and back so that it rested under my right leg right near my crack. That created exquisite pain.

Mildred, realizing what I had been doing, chuckled softly, “I’ll be back in a bit. Knock 3 times on the wall when you’re ready. Enjoy!”

With that she made her exit and closed the door.

I quickly finished washing up. I got up on my knees so I could wash the nether regions. My prong was fully erected, and my body remained filled, if not more so than before, with need.

All the while looking at the door I finished the final act of wicked depravity. I recovered quickly. I really debated on getting out of the tub, getting dressed (oh no, I had no clothes to put on), and exiting the bathroom.

But then I stopped my thinking in that direction by thinking of what Mildred had said about her children, her oldest sons in particular. I sat back down. By then my prong was at its normal state of rest and recovery. I did however over it with the washcloth and put my legs in such a way that it wouldn’t be ‘that’ obvious.

Satisfied that all was well I rapped on the wall 3 times and then double checked one more time that my serpent was out of sight. It was. I relaxed.

A knock on the door announced Mildred’s arrival. I said, “Come in.”

Mildred peered around the corner, smiled and then entered seeing that I was in a state of having visitors.

I then noticed “it”.

“It” was a long strand of my male essence. I saw two more strands and then one more. Thankfully, Mildred was reaching down inside of a linen cabinet… quickly, I retrieved the washcloth and scooped up the evidence of my depraved actions. I quickly sat on the washcloth and arranged my bits in such a way that they could not readily be seen. Just in time.

The cat was out of the bag, so to speak.

Without fanfare she soaped up a (thankfully clean) washcloth and began washing my back from my neck to my tail bone. With one hand she leaned me further forward while her other hand gave my butt and hole two swipes. She announced, “Okay, how was that?”

I replied, “Wonderful! That felt so good. Thank you. Thank you again.”

Father Ben arrived and entered the bathroom. Thankfully the bathroom was pretty large, maybe it was like 10 feet by 12 feet. In any event all was well.

I used washcloths filled with water to rinse adequately. When I was finished rinsing, Father Ben approached me with an opened up towel. I turned in such a way so that my serpent was well hidden, or so I hoped anyway, if not then nobody said anything.

When I stood up, Mildred gave a long loud wolf whistle and then said, “Sweet cheeks!” She giggled hysterically, I felt mortified. Thankfully she exited the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Father Ben wrapped the towel around my midsection and then used another towel to help me dry off leaving my middle parts alone. He turned around away from me. I tried my bits and butt crack.

Feeling more comfortable with the situation, I turned to face him. I got out of the bathtub, leaned down and dried my lower legs and feet. He handed me a pair of boxer shorts. They looked too small but I put them on anyway. Yes, they were very tight, probably 2 sizes too small but whatever no big deal as my serpent was relieved and at parade rest. Still, its outline was easily apparent.

I retrieved a bright orange shirt from the pile of clothes and put it on. It fit perfectly as did the socks.

The jeans were entirely a different matter. They would not pass above my hip bones. Father Ben had meanwhile stepped out into the hallway. I said, “These are too small. I’ll just wear my regular pants if it is okay?”

“Come with me. We had an older boy, Pedro, stay here for a few days earlier this year. I think I remember where his clothes are. He didn’t come back for them.”

The coast was clear. We went upstairs to a broad expansive bedroom filled with clothes. Lots and lots of clothes were neatly arranged. Father Ben reached onto one of the taller cubbyholes and retrieved a pair of faded blue jeans, handed them to me. I put them on. They were quite a bit too large but with a belt they were just fine.

“Thank you, Father.” I said humbly. I was used to hand me down clothes from the markets. I had nice clothes but those were reserved for ‘traveling’. I had worn nice clothes because I had traveled the day before but they were dirty from trudging through the sand and salt water.

We then went downstairs to the parlor. Father Ben retrieved two Cokes from the refrigerator, brought them to our tables then closed the door. He sat down and urged me to comfortably sit across from him so that we could look at each other while we talked. That made sense so I did.

Father Ben said, “Antoine, I will be celebrating noon mass today. Would you like to be server?”

“Oh no, I could not possibly do that. It would not be right; I am not worthy.” I quickly replied.

“You are of our religion, correct?”

“Yes, I practice it but I fail too often. It would not be right for me to serve.” I said steadfast.

Father Ben regarded my comment. His facial features, although already soft, softened considerably. He thought for a moment then we made eye contact. He said, “Do you need reconciliation?”

“Father I have worked severe penance to no avail. I still sin. Sometimes two heads talking about the issue helps to resolve the pain of shame and guilt. I am but a mortal being. Just because I am a priest with a college education doesn’t mean that I have my own difficulties.”

“That is my problem, Father. I have difficulties reconciling my two heads.” I said sheepishly.

Father Ben smiled. I thought he was going to laugh at my difficulty but thankfully he didn’t. Perhaps he knew of my difficulty… to test my theory I said, “My sin is Lust.”

Father Ben nodded knowingly, shrugged his shoulders and in a matter of fact voice said, “Do you use lust as a weapon? Do you other hurt people or yourself by your actions?”

“No of course not. I am virgin. My sin is of the serpent. It does not listen to this head <pointing to the head that sits on top of my shoulders>, instead it has a mind of its own and causes me to sin. My father took me to a priest for absolution. My sex is wrong; I am weak for not controlling my desires; I am ashamed and I am guilty for my sin.”

Father Ben mused for a moment, “What was the penance given to you?”

“Father, my seed and the serpent from which it comes were blessed with holy water and oils. Yet I still sin. My father gave me pepper. I am to sprinkle the serpent at night before bedtime. If the serpent arises I am to grind it into my sinful serpent and pray.”

Father Ben became angry. I was afraid. Going for broke I thought “I might as well get this over with so that he has the true picture. He too will hate me.” I said, “It did not work for very long. I stopped doing penance, Father Ben. I am ashamed.”

Father Ben waived his hand back and forth. He said, “I have heard enough my child. The penance you were given is barbaric. It is ancient. The practice was abandoned centuries ago. As you have experienced, the method does not work. I understand your difficulties child. “Antoine, you have nothing to hide from, to be ashamed of or to feel guilty about. You see, God gave us our sex powers. Remember child that God loves us unconditionally. There is no sin in what you do. The sin lies in the barbaric methods to control that which cannot be controlled. You are an adolescent boy. Your hormones are very strong during this time of your life. They will remain very strong for many years to come. To punish our bodies for doing what it is designed for is -wrong-. Child, we are given so much false information. I was a boy once upon a time. I had the same desires you do. I still do from time to time. Remember – the Pope was also a boy at one time. We all have desires for sex. We would not be normal and natural if they did not come upon us. <Father Ben chuckled>. And by the way, do not go around telling people The Pope masturbates – some folk would not take too kindly to the news.”

I grinned at his pronouncement. His eyes had rolled up into his head, he smiled from ear to ear, he put his hands to his face where he cupped his cheeks… mainly I giggled because something about him set me free. I then realized that I could not and cannot alter my hormones with wishes and desire to make them go away. I had just thought I was wicked.

When Father Ben recovered he once again asked a previous question, “So long as you do not use your penis and sex powers against another person or against yourself, or you do not masturbate say 80 times a day… do you do any of these?”

“No sir. I only awaken the serpent of lust when I cannot stand the pain in my testicles any longer.”

“Let me ask you another question… it is one that puzzles me.” <I nodded>. “Why do you refer to your external sex organ as a ‘serpent’? A serpent in my mind is a snake to be feared. A serpent hurts people.”

His words hit home. I recoiled. My throat tightened. I fought off an urge to cry. Father Ben saw my difficulties, he said, “What’s wrong, child? I’m sorry if I said something wrong. I feel your pain. I know it is hard for you to trust. Right now I can understand your troubles with trusting people older than you. I’ve been down your road Antoine. I know what fear is, I know what hurt is, and I know what it is like to not be able to trust those who are charged with caring for children. At one time, I was married. I had two children… a boy and girl. We lived in Laramie Wyoming. We had a small piece of property and were living the good life… no we weren’t rich in the conventional sense but we were abundantly blessed with the riches of our lives together. We didn’t need much. We didn’t want much.”

“But you’re a priest…”

“I became a priest later, Antoine. You see my family was killed in a propane gas explosion. I was feeding our animals when the house exploded killing them all.”

My unshed tears burst from my eyes. Tears fell from Father Ben’s eyes. We experienced several moments of silence as we felt our pains… I felt his pain as he shared and experienced his.

He recovered before I recovered my senses. He added, “I turned to alcohol. For a good while it was my friend then it transferred into a serpent that brought about pain and destruction to all around me. A man in town came to me one day. I was sitting in a bar drowning my sorrows but the tide had turned… I was totally lost. The farm went to hell so I sold it for a pittance of its value. One day I was in church. The sermon that day was about demons… and no I am not talking about demons in the conventional sense of the word – you know the demons that people put onto people… instead he was talking about our inner demons; the demons that plague our lives because of misinformation and misinterpretation.”

I nodded.

“Since I had no direction in my life I went to college. I studied agriculture and got a degree but still my life had no direction. Sure I had a college degree and got a decent job but still I was dogged by my fear and guilt.”

I nodded understandingly.

“Another time while sitting in church I decided that working with the ground was not my cup of tea. I went into hiding for 3 months. I thought that I might be good at being a Monk. So I was fast tracked through the monastery. I had to take coursework in theology and ritual. I did well with my studies but still I was plagued with shame and guilt about not protecting my family. My life all came crashing down one November day in 1982. I was assigned to a very small parish in an obscure town in Iowa. I was called to counsel a man who’d lost his family through death in an automobile crash. He and I were able to relate on a gut level. He has since remarried and has another family that he loves, cherishes and protects. His wife and he have adopted a number of children who had no home and who were living on the streets of Des Moines. They moved to a farm and are as happy as can be. I’ve since found my calling here in Hawaii. And you are part of my joy in life.”

I closed my eyes wondering what it all meant… no not what Father Ben told me about his family… but I was in that place where I was lost. My family didn’t want me anymore – so they were gone much like his were.

“Father Ben, my serpent is my male gland. Nobody will ever love me ‘that’ way. I will never be able to pleasure them. I am abnormal… a freak. Maybe I should be a priest.” I cried.

Father Ben came to the rescue with a quip, “Hey now, not all priests are freaks I tell you. Do you see me as a freak?”

“No of course not. I meant… I should be a priest because that way I won’t have to worry about someone not being able to love me… you know… my thing.”

“Antoine, as long as you see yourself as a freak then you will be a freak within your own mind. I have no doubt that your mate will be along when the time is right. For your information young man… your organ is what God gave you. I see no reason why you cannot be loved, and I damn well know that your sex will bring your mate much happiness. That’s that. When you believe for yourself what I have said… the point of what I’m saying is to accept yourself as you are. You’ve told me that you do not use your penis as a weapon so no harm will come to your loved and chosen one.”

I looked at Father Ben with a whole new perception: what if he was right? What if I could bring love and joy to another person?

I said, “But I am so big…”

“So? Trust me, when your mate comes along size means nothing. What means something is how you and your mate work it out, so to speak. That is where a loving and committed relationship comes into being. Antoine, love conquers most all obstacles. And the obstacles that cannot be overcome between the two of you must come from within. You’ll be able to overcome those obstacles. Besides, all boys wonder if they are good enough. They wonder and worry if they’ll be able to please their mate. So far the human race has survived those worries, no?”

I nodded readily, “Okay, I’ll try. What you say makes sense, uhm. I need to use the bathroom but I’ll be right back. I have something else to confess.”

Father Ben looked at his watch. He said, “Take your time. We aren’t due in church until about 11:45 or so.”

With that I took off for the bathroom, peed, washed my hands and returned to the parlor. Mildred was filling our drinks that had long ago dried up. She smiled, “Are you working things out child?”

“Yes. I feel better inside here <pointing to my chest>. I have some things to work out but I feel that I can now.”

“Good. I made up some cinnamon rolls. I think Father Ben is in the pan if I know him. Come on; let’s go see what he’s up to.”

I smiled. My mouth began watering with desire. Mildred put her arms around my shoulders and together we walked into the kitchen. Sure enough, Father Ben quickly pulled his fingers from the pan. He had a huge wad of icing precariously balanced between his hand and mouth. Mildred laughed, “Got ya. I’ve been wondering where my cinnamon rolls went to the day before yesterday… now I know.”

Mildred then went to the cupboard, retrieved three plates and dished out a cinnamon roll onto each one. She then shooed me and Father Ben back to the parlor. He shut the door, sat down and then we pigged out. I’d never had a cinnamon roll THAT good, ever.

From out of the blue I said, “Father, I am carrying a greater sin. I feel like I can talk to you but please never tell anyone. Promise me you will never tell anyone ever.”

Father Ben regarded me but for a second before he replied, “Antoine, whatever we talk about here stays here. Mildred is here. Would you like to go to the beach so that we can be alone with God?”

When I didn’t say anything… I was afraid… he said, “Let me make a phone call. A priest owes me a favor <he giggled>. He can come down here and say mass while you and I leave. Just a moment.”

What that Father Ben made the call and we set off for the beach located only 200 yards from the rectory. When we arrived, I sat down, took off my shirt, shoes and socks and then rolled the oversized jeans up to my knees. Father Ben took off his shoes and socks and laid them next to my clothes. We walked down the beach not saying anything, just listening to the waves coming into shore. Father Ben led us to an outcropping of rocks where we sat down in full vision of the ocean, within hearing distance of the waves, feeling the trade wind breeze blowing across our bodies.

That was my moment of truth. I put my arm in Father Ben’s and said very quietly, “Father, I have sinned grievously. You said wrong is when we take another persons’ choices away from them. I have done that.”

Father Ben nodded understandingly, “We all have at points during our life journeys. What is troubling you child?”

My story came rushing out – all of it holding nothing back. When I completed by telling him of the times ‘those people’ lost their choices he said, “I understand why you had to do what you had to do. Though I do not condone permanently removing a persons’ choices I can understand and emphasize WHY you had to do what you did. You were put into a bad position, a position that no child should be exposed to. The question now is what to do from today on out and in your future. What to do right now is of concern to me. You see, your parents are legally responsible for your well being and since they are not being legally responsible for you… hmmmm. Child, you are welcome to stay with Mildred and I until we can get this straightened out. I have some friends in high places that will help us to do the right thing. Can I call them and ask for their help so that the right thing can be done for you?”

“I cannot do that Father. I have seen what legal people do to children in other countries… I cannot have that happen to me. I need to go. Maybe my parents will take me in. My parents love me in their own way… I will adapt.” I said, got up and began walking back to where we left our clothes.

Father Ben was soon next to my side holding my arm in his. I joined his arm knowing he would not force me to be with him.

“I must see, Father. I do not want to run because I have nowhere else to go. My father will love me… I just know he will…”

Father Ben, when we arrived at our clothing, sat down on the sandy beach not caring that he was getting wet. I sat down next to him. He said, “You have shared your burdens with me today. I am truly blessed that you would trust me with your secrets. I will not say anything to anyone ever about your experiences but I am having a problem putting my head around your desire to return to your old life, doing what you have done – again – to please your father and mother.”

“Maybe my father will change me to be a buyer. I am getting too old to run… the authorities are becoming much more advanced with their techniques, and there skepticism about young children traveling alone is getting very great. I will ask him. Maybe it will please him.”

With a very distant look in his eyes Father Ben said, “Son, I do not think being a buyer will end there. In ‘the trade’ buyers can be replaced in a heartbeat. Being a buyer is much more dangerous. It will put you into even more positions where you will have to remove their choices because of the real or imagined fears that they will remove yours. It won’t take you very long to become hardened and cold. The thought of you going in that direction breaks my heart. You are not that kind of person but those kinds of people can and do break impressionable young minds… no good come of it. I believe our Creator has a good plan for you.”

“Thank you Father. I will take your words with me. Right now, I must return to my parents. They worry. Can I come back here to tell you that they love me?”

Father Ben, with sad eyes said, “I’ll be waiting. Don’t take too long, okay? Promise me you’ll come back here. We’ll work something out.”

I nodded my understanding, “Okay. I trust you.”

After putting on our wearing apparel I brought his face to mine. I kissed both of his cheeks per custom and we headed for the rectory after he said that Mildred would be fixing fried chicken and all the trimmings. He said something about it being a crime by not feeding a hungry teenage boy.

When we arrived at the rectory, Mildred had a wonderful meal prepared. I ate voraciously then, much to Mildred’s many protests, I departed and headed for the strip where my parents were residing, if for only for a short time.

Both Father Ben and Mildred saw me off. I replied, “Thank you. Everything will be okay. Don’t worry about me. I will see you soon. I promise.”

To be continued

(Reedited September 1, 2011)

The Warrior – Part 5

Published: 05 Jun 2014

Though somewhat still troubled I left the safe cocoon displayed by and promised by Father Ben and Mildred. I took off for the hotel my parents were staying – I would be staying there too if they would let me. My mothers’ words came back loud and clear though so I was nervous about how the reception would be. On top of that, actually her words hurt me to the core. I was afraid for her and I was afraid of her … then my fathers’ last words haunted my soul. My peace was quickly being replaced with a feeling of dread then I started remembering and paying attention to Father Ben’s words about finding the good in people even when you have to look very hard, because it is there.

At about one block from the hotel an unmarked police vehicle drove by going the same way as I was going. My senses became hyper aware yet I continued walking with purpose, as if nothing was ever seen or experienced and then another passed by going in the same direction. The police cars stopped in front of the hotel however their occupants stayed inside the vehicle.

Cautiously, I visually ignored them yet kept them in my peripheral vision. I came upon a crosswalk to a foot path that led down to the beach so when the light changed I blended in with a whole bunch of tourists and walked across with them nonchalantly, minding my own business, yet very aware of who and what was around me. Nothing suggesting any trouble was apparent. With that I kept walking simply becoming one of the many. It seemed to have worked because when I looked back over to the hotel the police cars were gone. I did not see them or any others but I was not ready to go to my parents’ hotel room just yet. I thought the police could not be very far away, no more than 5 minutes at the most, so I kept on walking until I reached an isolated area.

There I decided to have a little bit of fun before facing my parents. I sat down then removed my shoes, socks and my shirt. After piling them neatly, I began slowly walking up the beach away from the tourists. I love hearing and seeing the ocean does its thing. It is so peaceful and relaxing. I would like to come here to live some day when I was older, with a good job and a family. The problem with my ‘family’ visions, of late, is that I do not see myself having children, not that way anyway. Maybe I could adopt some children. But then again, I did not really see myself being married or otherwise committed. I remembered Father Ben’s words about his family, his heartache, the loneliness and despair he had experienced… and well, I didn’t want to have that experience then I thought “Well, maybe I could become a priest or a Monk even.” That thought was soon replaced by an inner fact, “Nah.”

I then heard footsteps far away but approaching closer. There had been some kids out surfing and having a good time so I decided to continue my trek to wherever it was that I would end up.

I was not worried about sunburn since I had lived in many tropical places without any problems with it. The waves were splashing my legs so I bent down and rolled them up to my knees. By happenstance I looked between my legs and noted that there were several boys down the beach. They seemed to be a long way down the beach so I continued my journey. I got lost in the surf, the waves, the bright sunshine, the trade winds blowing across my chest, the water lapping at my ankles, and the peace and serenity of the moment.

Something didn’t seem quite right so I turned around in the direction the discomfort was originating from… I observed one of the boys throwing my clothes into the ocean, piece by piece. I wondered why they were doing that.

I headed in their direction. No I wasn’t running. Clothes are not worth getting all uptight about. When I was about 100 paces from them the biggest and oldest turned to me and started walking toward me. There was something disturbing about him, about his gait. I soon found out what that was…

“Hey nigger, we don’t allow niggers on this beach. Get the fuck out of here. You people come here and think you can do whatever the fuck you want to.”

The rest of the boys, even larger than the one heading toward me, were even larger than him. My senses perked up, my awareness became acute, and my sense of hearing overshadowed the ‘noise’ of the waves coming in.

When the distance between us narrowed to the point where I could actually see close up pictures of their faces… they were angry and hostile.

I don’t care about being called names. I’ve been called that word before, as has my family. I truly believed their name calling and whatnot was simply a blueprint of their ignorance and intolerance.

When we were 10 paces apart, I said, “No problem. I’ll get my clothes. I’ll leave.”

He took two steps forward narrowing our separation to 8 paces. His friends also moved closer. They then fanned out. Two guys were on my left. Two guys were on my right. Three were in front narrowing the gap.

I stopped.

The lead guy… he was about 5′ 10″ tall and weighed between 170 and 180 pounds. He was lean and mean and angry and determined.

“Do you not understand English, Jungle Bunny? I said to get the fuck out of here. We don’t give our beaches to fuckin niggers!”

He stopped walking when he reached two paces in front of me. The two that were on each side were closing the gap.

I said, “I will get my clothes and leave. I will not repeat myself.”

Two of the guys on my left began closing, rapidly closing the little bit of distance. When they arrived I performed a perfect tuck and roll ultimately landing on my feet.

They came at me again. At the last moment I stepped aside and watched them sprawl on the sand.

I asked, “Would you permit me to gather my things? I will leave. I do not stay where I am unwelcome.”

By that time many people were standing around, almost like in a circle but not really. I felt like the situation was getting out of control; their control that is.

The two guys who had showing their lack of hospitality were on their feet. I stepped next to the waters’ edge so that I could keep them all fully in my vision. They weren’t advancing so I thought, “fuck the clothes, I don’t need them.”

“Why aren’t you gone, nigger?”

“Why don’t you get out of my way? I will leave but you are making it very difficult for me to go.”

“People of your kind do not come here. They know to stay away. This is our beach. We’ll defend it… we need to set an example.”

“And what example would that be? I do suggest that if you want to have a good ending to your day then you’ll permit me to leave.”

“And just who the fuck do you think you are telling me what to do?” Badass said menacingly.

“I gave you but a suggestion. Take it or leave it. It is your choice of course.”

I thought ‘these guys are body builders – dumb asses but nevertheless they could present great, formidable challenge to my strengths’.

I realized that they’d done this before. Each took two steps forward. The gap was essentially closed. The crowd was cheering … I couldn’t tell if they were cheering me, or leering me… they were probably cheering on the assholes.

I’d had enough. I turned toward down-beach and started to walk that way but the main guy stepped in front of me thus stopping any forward progress. The other guys stayed where they were.

Then the guy touched me. He did not touch me as to bring about harm… he just touched my shoulder with his strong hands. That was not the right thing to do. You may challenge me but do not lay your hands on my body in any way, shape or form… especially when you are angry and belligerent. I grabbed his wrist with a lock hold, removed his hand from my body then released it.

He got in my face, nose to nose. He venomously sneered, “Get lost nigger or we will remove you from our beach.”

“Very well. I will leave. Actually, I need to be somewhere which is the only reason I must leave your hospitality, too bad. Have a great day. I’ll see you later. I have traveled many miles to be here. I’m sure we will work something out.”

I started to walk past him toward my belongings when he brushed into me on purpose. “Excuse me.” I said then went to walk around him. He did it again. “Excuse me I must get my belongings before I can go. Be careful. Some day you will get hurt doing what you are doing.”

“Are you threatening me nigger?”

“No, not at all. By the way, my name is Antoine. I will get my things and leave. Do not make this a bad day, okay?”

The crowd circled around us in a tight circumference thus blocking my exit.

The big guy in my face then slammed his hands into my chest. I lost my balance, fell into the water – but I was up in a second. I assumed a defensive stance, took one step back, and locked my eyes into the attackers’ eyes. Our visions were acute. I remained calm inside however my muscles were twitching for release from the uncompromising situation.

I saw the shadow of a giant overshadow Badass. I swirled around but it was too late. He shoved me very hard into Badass. With amazing speed I recovered and then jabbed the fucking giant in the gut then rolled and grabbed his ankle. He fell. No, he was not injured though I could have with some effort effectively fractured his bones into a million pieces… I was positive I could neutralize him but I wanted to maintain peace.

While I did not feel to be in mortal danger the situation was quickly escalating.

When he was slow to get up, somebody in the crowd began laughing – it was infectious. I just smiled at the guy and the other dude who had been aggressive to me.

The big guy regained his stature. At that point I was very concerned… for both my safety and for his.

He offered his hand in a good will gesture however his eyes said otherwise. I reached for his hand, ready for anything should the need have arose.

He smiled. His other hand came into my peripheral vision. He had a hand full of sand in it. I said with every ounce of my being, hoping against hope that he’d not do what I thought he was about to do, “If you throw that in my face then you will have a very, very bad day, I promise you.”

Four of them rushed me. I could not handle all of them, not in the position I had been in. They put their arms around me and squeezed for all they were worth. Their worth was formidable.

Mr. Badass got into my face, “I told you to get lost nigger. You people do not listen very well. Ron, teach him a lesson.”

“I will give you one last chance to save your good day.”

“You are not in a position to make that offer punk. We told you to get off of the beach.”

Because the guy behind me was quickly squeezing my breath away, I decided to go ahead and take care of this situation. They would be having a very bad day after all. We all would be having a bad day.

Badass went sprawling in exquisite pain after he got a nice jab in the crotch by my foot. Nothing lethal – he was just out of service.

Now the guy holding me from behind, the fucking giant, well that was a different matter. He began putting me into a headlock but before he did, I head butted him with tremendous force. I heard the bones of his jaw crunch. When he let go of me because of his severe pain I landed on the ground and then had to deflect, destabilize and disservice their so called friends.

When I turned to the crowd, who had since closed in, they quickly stepped aside. One of the girls I walked past raised her hand to high-five me. I was wary but her eyes were soft and brown and non-menacing. She said, “Thanks. They’re assholes. They think they own this fucking beach as their own, so thank you, we owe you.”

“No ma’am, you owe me nothing. Just have a good time and treat people with respect.”

Another person in the crowd, a little boy of maybe 12 years old handed me my belongings then gave me a quick ‘guy’ hug then whispered in my ear “The asshole who got the broken mouth was messing with my ‘best’ friend Robby and me, and well, uhm …”

“Sorry buddy I have got to go now.” I said then quickly mingled with the crowd as the Beach Patrol and paramedics arrived on the scene. Being a ‘little’ kid I can blend in pretty well with the grownups, and did.

After arriving at the hotel lobby, I sprinted up the stairs to the second floor, found my parents’ room and knocked on the door. My father answered it on the second attempt.

He was fucked up. He was fucked up on cocaine. I could tell it immediately. I’ve seen it before. He gets mean when he’s fucked up. I quickly surveyed the situation. I saw my mother lying on the couch. She was crying. Her face was battered and beaten and bloody. It was more than I could take. I could take no more. I must defend my mothers’ honor. I must defend my mothers’ life.

Without a second thought, I threw a kick that connected with my fathers’ face. I felt bones and cartilage snap like too-dry twigs in a forest. He fell to the ground broken and bleeding from his nose and eyes. I would not dishonor my father by killing him. He would suffer though. He would forevermore be disfigured but he would live and he too would be ‘abnormal’. In a moment of clarity, I disowned my father right then and there. He would no longer control me. I was done with the trade and would never go back to it no matter how hungry or destitute I might be or get.

I ran to my mother. She was crying hysterically saying “He will kill you Antoine. You must leave. You have dishonored your father, boy. By dishonoring your father, you have dishonored me. Go now. Go away.” Her eyes, bruised as they were, were absolutely rabid with hatred and anger.

I realized I was dead. I had died. My life with them ended right then and there. There was nothing left to salvage.

I said to my mother, “I will always love you. As you wish, I will leave.”

Despite her wild protests and beating on my back I walked to the phone, picked up the receiver, pushed the buttons 9-911. When the person answered I said, “We are at the Holton Inn on Waikiki Beach. My mother has been beaten and battered by my father Armando Garza. Please send police and ambulance quickly!”

With that I turned to my mother. She struck my cheek. She screamed that she would never forgive me for turning my father into the police. I said nothing. Instead, I walked to the door leading out of the hotel room, looked at my father writhering around in pain from his fractured jaw, and then walked over him and quickly away from the hotel. Sirens were heard… they were getting closer and closer.

I looked to my mother. She was still beating on my back, I said to her, “God loves you mother. Goodbye.”

I would never again see her alive.

I left the hotel with only the clothes covering my loins; my shoes, socks and shirt surely floating away in the surf.

For the next several months, I learned how to survive on the beach. I was not the only one but I stayed to myself. I would spend my days walking up and down the beaches. I’d drop in and see Father Ben and Mildred from time to time. I spoke with Father Ben a few times about what I had done to support my family, about those people I had taken their choices away from and why. His only words to me about the subject were to stop. I told him that I would never go back to that way of life and would atone for my sins by treating people well, and that I would use my skills only to defend myself or anyone in danger and only as a last resort.

I visited the area of the beach where the bullies had hung out and never saw them again. Neither did I see the boy who had spoken to me briefly. I looked for them. Not to bring them harm but to see how they were doing, and I really wanted to wish them well.

I had made a home for myself in a deserted area. Mildred and Father Ben would drive up every now and again just to make sure I was okay, that I had plenty to eat and they gave me warm blankets for nighttime as the spray from the water was cold. I chose to stay there. They offered to put me up as a resident but I declined and asked them to help another boy like they did me. They said they would. They did too because I would visit them every now and again, usually when I was so lonely that I wanted to die.

They usually ‘visited’ me every Thursday afternoon. I kept track of days by using little stones set in a circle then with each sunup, I would move the stick one notch.

On Sunday of one week, I awoke several times during the night to toss my cookies from both directions until finally there was nothing left to give to the ocean. I remember standing there wishing and wanting to just jump in and get it over with because my life had no purpose, had no joys other than ones I made up for myself, was tired of defending myself against wandering idiots who tried to steal my stuff, I had no friends other than Father Ben and Mildred, was not going to school, had decided that one can only masturbate so many times – and the times I did caused me great grief because my hands were salty and sandy and filthy – all of which do not mix with the soft delicate tissues of my manhood. But I chastised myself for even thinking such thoughts so I crawled back into my ‘cave’, lay down and went to sleep after saying my prayers.

By Tuesday afternoon, I could no longer raise my head up. I was so sick. My lungs were on fire. My stomach was on fire. My head was ready to explode. I lost all track of time after the sun came up on Wednesday. In my last moment of clarity I prayed after seeing my life pass before my eyes in slow motion. “Dear God, I am ready to meet you. You have loved me all of my life. I have been bad. I have dishonored my parents. For that I am truly sorry. Please forgive me for the lives I have taken to honor my parents. I now commend my spirit to you. Amen.” I then closed my eyes to sweet, sweet Darkness.

Then light. Bright. Pleasant though. Warm. Bright but glowing in warmth at the same time. Very peaceful. Inviting. Where am I?

“Antoine honey, go back. You have much to do.”

“Grand mama-ma. Grand papa-pa.” I said excitedly. I tried to stand up so that I could hug them but I was suspended in golden light. Time meant nothing. Space meant nothing. Nothing meant everything. Everything meant everything. I reached my hands out to cling to my grandparents yet they were light years away but then again right next to me.

“Yes poco. We are here but Grand mama-ma is right, you have many good things to bring to your people. You are to be a warrior of good, child.”

“I don’t want to go back. I have nothing. I have no family. Nobody cares for me. I cannot care for anyone. I want stay, please?”

From out of nowhere, a vision planted itself in front of me to see in vivid color. A man and a woman were hovering over my body. My eyes were closed yet I could see their spirits. They were good spirits. I then saw my body, naked and lifeless. Is that what I look like dead? That child looks so sad, so alone, so tight and tense despite his chin hanging on his chest with his tongue lying limply on his cracked lips.

I could not actually see the man or woman, only that they were there. Their faces were obscure. My vision of them was opaque.

“Is that mama and papa?” I asked Grand Mama-ma.

“No honey. They are being punished for their sins. Do you remember what Father Ben said about sin, child?”

A vision popped through my mind: I was sitting in Father Ben’s office talking with him about my difficulty with sin. I said “Yes.” Another thought passed through my mind in that same moment … the memories of people who I had taken choices away from.

“Grand Papa-pa, I had no choice. They would have killed me. Why am I here in this peaceful place? I should be hot. I should be burning …”

“They certainly would have killed you, poco. But they did not. Child, you had no choices to do what you were doing, no? Your papa, my son, took away your choices, he took away your boyhood with evil purpose and in evil ways. Look.”

Another vision passed by me in slow motion … the two who had been hovering over me were now carrying me away. They were struggling with my weight on their shoulders.

“Go grandchild do not break their hearts. They love you. Many people will love you in your life. You will love many people. You will do good, child. You will be needed in your world. Go now. Go before it is too late.”

“No wait.” I said as the guy, a boy actually, yes, it was the boy on the beach who attacked me and called me filthy, vile names against my race and people – appeared. He looked at me then offered his hand with a sad smile on his face. He said “I am sorry for harming you Antoine. Please forgive me. I have died. See?” A vision crowded into my vision – he was lying in a pool of blood with a girl. They were naked. He was inside of her. His head was gone. He had purple and black marks all over his body. I recognized those. They were gunshot wounds, I’d seen those before. No, I had never used a gun …

“I am sorry you died a violent death amigo. If I could have prevented it … I would have.”

“There was nothing you could have done differently. You could have killed me with your skill in less time than a ventricle takes to refill with the liquid of life. But you did not. You are a man of honor. Go. Leave now, the time has come.”

“What will happen to you? Are you going to that place named hell?” I said but the vision disappeared.

“Grandchild, the time has passed. You must make a decision to stay here or go to your life on earth. Hurry poco.”

Through no choice of my own, through no power bestowed from my training, from no power that I was capable of … the bliss of an all encompassing darkness returned utterly and completely rendering me totally incompetent to stop the visions of what was happening on the earth plane.

Those two people having no faces were laboring to bring my dead and lifeless appearing body down a steep cliff. I would look in all directions searching for my Grand Mama-ma and my Grand Papa-pa but they were not to be seen, neither was the boy, neither were any of the people whose choices I had removed. The only vision was of those two laboring people. Their burdens were heavy.

Sometime later, I was told a month later, I awoke in a hospital bed. I had no idea where I was; and the only thing I knew was that I wasn’t dead. The walls were a starched white. Other than for a small table and the bed I lay on there was nothing, no people, no nothing yet it was my world and it was everything.

Over the next several months, I don’t know exactly how long because time had no meaning to me, they put me back on the sandy shores of the Pacific Ocean… why you ask… because that was where I wanted to be. Quite frankly, I left because there was a nosy caseworker making every attempt to get into my business despite my telling her over and over and over again that my parents were deceased, that they did not exist, that I was on my own and being alone was how I was going to stay.

I was a Warrior. Warriors ultimately see to their own needs, find their own way in the world, overcome all adversities, and gather their strength and stamina from nature and from within the temple of life.

For some time, I wandered the beaches, steeling and pilfering and depriving the birds from their sustenance whenever and wherever possible.

I returned to my cave. It was as I remembered it. Nothing had been touched so far as I could see. I holed up in it going out only at night. After some time my stamina returned and I resumed my physical and mental disciplines so that I could once again face the world with whatever it brought – friend or foe, both would be treated the same way.

One day I felt myself getting sick again. Performing my disciplinary rituals became very nearly impossible yet I tried. I willed myself into submission to my training.

When I lay down that night for a few hours of sleep an obscure thought occurred to me. I did not want to die. That was it: I just didn’t want to die.

When the sun rose the following morning, I attempted to make my way from the home I had known for God only knew how long. I went stumbling up the beach. I fell frequently because I was so weak. My lungs were once again on fire. The crimson left its evidence on my hands.

When I turned the corner to head to Father Ben and Mildred’s I could go no further yet I saw Father Ben walking from the church to the rectory. I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt, based on the way the sun was positioned, that he’d be headed to eat the wonderful foods that Mildred prepared.

With the last reserve of strength, I screamed… or attempted to scream. The last thing I remembered was my face hitting the sand. I looked at the sand and wondered if this was the way it was all supposed to end. The way I had been taught was that it was dust to dust, not dust to sand… was it possible?

My next recollection was being lifted and turned onto my back. Father Ben was standing there… he pulled me into his arms and held me firmly. He was crying. He picked me and held me in his strong arms. He then half walked and half ran to the rectory, beckoned Mildred, and then together they removed my clothes, gently laid me into the bathtub. Mildred gently, caringly, grandmotherly with tears flowing from her eyes washed my weak body, every nook and cranny leaving none untouched.

Father Ben, after they dried me reverently, carried me to the bed that I had once long ago lay and sleep on and spilled my seed into. They covered me up. Father Ben did not leave my side while Mildred made some calls for help.

Soon, a doctor and nurse arrived. They gave me many shots, pounded my back causing me to cough violently, and forced me to drink tepid tap water to wash down other pills and potions.

Within a few days I was feeling much better and no longer had to take nourishment while lying in bed. I know the nurse had told me hundreds of times what her name was but I was not really cognizant of people, places or things. That was a bad place to be. I’m glad that period of time passed.

Once I was able to walk for appreciably periods of time… Father Ben and I would together walk the beach each and every morning as the sun came up and night brought the sun to its knees. I gradually but decisively gained strength and I began going to the clinic at the hospital for my follow up care. They said that I had had pneumonia but was rapidly improving. The caseworker was nowhere to be found which eased my tensions and concerns. Father Ben told me that he’d ordered them to leave me alone, that I was living a life that I had chosen, and was doing okay despite my recent illnesses. Of course, they didn’t believe his assertions however he was a man of the cloth and well known in the community so they did let him off the hook.

Slow at first but over a relatively short period of time I began running up and down the beach with returned speed, ability, stamina and desire. I avoided all people who were out and about on the beaches – tourists and locals alike.

The last day that I stayed with Father Ben and Mildred I said, “I am going back to my home on the beach but I promise you that I will take better care of myself. On the cold nights, if it is okay, can I come here to stay… but only for the night?”

Mildred looked at me sadly but acquiesced because she could read me. Speaking of reading, when I was sick the last time she would read Shakespeare to my sleeping form… or at least she thought I was sleeping… usually, I would listen to her perfect renditions of their writings. She asked what I would do for school to which I would reply that I was much advanced, further advanced than many of the wilderness schools I had attended.

Much to their dislike, I hated to disappoint them however at that time in my life I needed to be alone, to make my own way, to make my own mistakes, and to reach my own triumphs. And so I did. They made me promise to continue my follow ups with the doctors and nurses. I assured them that I would because it would be easy since I was pretty much doing that anyway.

On the day that I left their 24/7 care and loving giving I headed up the beach to keep good on my promise, and to exercise.

I stopped in at the care clinic on the beach to see the nurse that had been taking my medicine to me.

After checking in… and no there were no insurance forms to fill out, no receptionists or other personnel… just her, she ushered me into the makeshift treatment room. She listened to my chest, checked my temperature, determined my weight, and asked the perfunctory questions.

She asked, “How are you today?”

“I am much better. I am going back home today.”

She looked at me curiously. I replied, “Yes, I am going to my home down at the point. I have a nice place there. Father Ben said I could stay there on the cold nights. I will take better care of myself, I promise.”

“Are you eating well?”

“Yes. Mother Mildred makes sure I eat a good lunch every day. I am putting on weight, can you tell?”

“Yes. You are looking healthier and healthier day by day. Okay, here is your medicine. You only have two more days of medicine to go until you are finished. I can take you to the clinic in two days for your visit with the doctor if you like to have a ride.”

“You would?”

“Sure. It is my job to take care of youth who live on the beach, Antoine. You don’t have to answer me right now. We have time.”

“Okay. Thank you. Thank you. But I can walk …”

“Taking you to your doctor is something I want to do for you. You have been bringing me smiles every day. Hurry up, move over. I have sick people to take care of young man.”

“Okay. Yes. I am not sick anymore. Ha haa. I’ll see you tomorrow. Ma’am, your children must be very proud of you.” I said then sprinted off into the water wearing a pair of bright pink boardies that this woman had given to me a week previously. She said the swimming suit came from the Goodwill store but I knew better … she had missed a tag on the inside crotch holding material. I giggled.

On the last day of my medicine she did take me to my doctors’ appointment in the city. As we traveled she said her name was “Peggy” and would I please call her that instead of ‘ma’am’.

She was always smiling at me. She would tell jokes. She always gave me stuff and at the same time she did not pry into my business, where I lived, what I did, or where I was going.

When the appointment was over she asked me where my home was. I had always told her that my home was in the bad part of town, my parents were druggies, and that I had a million brothers and sisters, many whom I did not even know.

But she saw right through me. I knew it. She knew I was lying and allowed me to. Until that day.

“Ma’am, take me to my home then. I live up on the deserted part of this island. It is where I have lived and it is where I died and it is where I came back to life. I am sorry that I was not truthful … but really, I am happy.”

“Okay, child, thank you for being honest with me. Take me to your home.”

I had to help her through the sand, around the cliff and down into my ‘home’. She looked my place over with awe then patted my on my shoulder and said “You are resourceful young man.”

She took me back down to the beach that day. But I did not see her for a long time.

A few months later, in May, I went to the rectory for our afternoon meal but Mildred was not there, neither was Father Ben. I looked at the clock on the wall. It read 11:45 … oh; Father Ben has mass at noon.

I went into the bathroom and found that no water had been drawn up for my bath. Mildred had insisted on doing this for me. She said she needed to make sure I was gaining weight and that my ribs were filling in. She had been so worried about me when I was sick. She never told me what they did nor would Father Ben when I questioned him as to what had actually happened that day, in those weeks where I was here but not all there. She would say “We cannot question acts of God poco.”

I had my needs so I sat down on the toilet, gave a load of mierda to the city, wiped up, pulled my britches up then took off looking for Mildred out in her garden where she raises very nice and good vegetables.

Sure enough she was sitting in her chair so I ran to greet her. But then I saw that she was looking away. Her eyes were not moving. She was asleep, no?

“Mother Mildred, please wake up. I will help you with dinner. Run my bath please. Mother Mildred, pleasssssssssse wake up. I want to tell you I love you again. Wait. Come back. I’ll be right back. I’m going to go get Father Ben because he will help you.” I cried knowing the truth but wanting the truth to be a lie.

I ran hard to the church, took the stairs up three at a time, and ran through the church screaming with all of my strength “Father Ben. Father Ben help – Mother Mildred is sick. Hurry! She needs us.”

One of the old members of the church, I mean elderly; Melvin was his name got up quickly then followed us out to Mildred sitting in her chair. She had not moved. No.

“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo” I screamed from the depths of my soul when Melvin looked at Father Ben then me while shaking his head no. “Do CPR, take her to the hospital, call the paramedics, do something!!!!! Please!” By this time I had collapsed on the ground crying my eyes out. No not this. Not now. Please. No. Please no.

Father Ben, once Melvin had left, said “Poco. Do you remember the journey you went for a few months ago, when you were real sick?”

“Yes. I saw beauty. I felt warmth. I felt atonement. I saw my grandparents … oh … Mildred is taking her journey … only she is not coming back? But she is loved. She loves unconditionally. I am sorry.”

“Antoine, her work here was finished. She has passed through and into The Light.”

“Good. I love her.”

“She loves you too Antoine. Her spirit will live in you forever. Your spirit will live in her new form forever too. You will see some day a long time from now.”

Father Ben and I went inside the rectory and nibbled at some leftover food from the evening meal she had prepared the night before. Neither of us were the least bit hungry, not in the least. When I went to the refrigerator to get a soda pop Mildred had purchased to help me gain weight with I saw a dish on the first shelf. It was her desert dish.

“Father Ben, look. She left us something.”

Not waiting, I pulled the dish out, sat it on the table then sat down myself. Father Ben reverently opened the dish. We both cried openly and without reserve when we saw it was Mother Mildred’s special pineapple upside down cake. All of a sudden we were hungry.

We ate every bite of her present to us with tears streaming down our faces … not in sadness but in happiness.

When I arrived at the medic station the next day, Peggy was there. I asked her for some aspirin <hey I waited in line for them because I wanted to see her> “Antoine, I will not be here for a few days. I have a funeral to go to. One of my very good friends passed away yesterday unexpectedly. Your last doctors’ appointment is on Thursday, I will take you there. Another nurse, will be here for the people who need medical attention.”

“Yeah, one of my greatest friends in the whole wide world died yesterday too. Her name was Mildred. She was …”

“That is my friends’ name Antoine. She worked at the church for many years. I’ve known her all of my life. She was a beautiful person.”

“Then I will see you there? Would you sit with me? I’m sorry. I am selfish.” I asked solemnly.

“I would love to sit with you. Can I pick you up someplace?”

“I will meet you there. I will probably stay tonight with Father Ben. He’s kind of alone now.” I said solemnly looking down at the soft brown sand beneath my bare feet.

I heard a sniffle. Quickly I looked up. Her bright yellow flowered shirt was getting wet with the tears that were falling down her cheeks. Without asking for or receiving permission I went around the medic station, entered through a dilapidated and falling off door, pulled each other into a really deep, deep hug and held on not wanting to let go, unable to let go as we wept from the sadness from our hearts.

Every time we would pull away we would end up coming back together again. The people in line looked at us impatiently. Unable to leave each other, I sat the cups out for her to fill with medicine then would fill up the little cup with the water she had brought with her. When we were finished taking care of everyone in line a small boy was being carried by his momma up to our building. The little boy was crying very loudly, at least his lungs were very healthy!

When she arrived I took the little boy from her arms then carried him inside and laid him out on a lounge mattress to be looked at.

“It looks like this little guy has a jellyfish sting on his foot. Would you get me the meat tenderizer out of the medicine shelf for me, please?”

I went looking in the cabinet. The meat tenderizer was not hard to find … it was the only bottle there.

Deftly, Peggy sprinkled the salt-like smelling grainy gritty, it looked a lot like sand, stuff on the little boy’s bite mark. When she finished I picked him up, drew him into my arms then started whispering little nothings into his ears. Soon he stopped crying and wanted down. When I stood him on his feet he grabbed my finger and started pulling on it. He took me to the waters’ edge then reached up for me to pick him up. I did. While he was in my arms, I took us out into the surf. He was squealing in delight. We had lots and lots of fun wave jumping. Each time we would get drenched from the dying rush of waves he would hold on for dear life. I would hold onto him for dear life.

When we, rather when I got tired out we headed into shore where we met his mother. After thanking me profusely, his mother took him away. When they were maybe 50 yards away, the little boy broke free and came running to me then at the last minute jumped into my arms where we held each other tightly. Then he wanted down. He ran dutifully to his mother then together they continued on down the beach. I stood there with tears streaming down my face until they were out of sight.

I sat down on the waters’ edge to feel and hear mother natures’ strongest of words, her orders, her comfort and soothing caresses … this was mother nature’s bath … thank you Mildred.

To be continued

Reedited (September 1, 2011)

The Warrior – Part 6

Published: 05 Jun 2014

That night I slept at the rectory to be near Father Ben in his time of grief. We had sat up late into the night talking about Mildred and her devotion to life and to helping others during their times of need, her altruism, her funny wit, and all the other good qualities about her. We laughed and cried. Somehow Father Ben would come up with something lyrical when our sadness got to be too great.

The following morning I was awoken by the clinking, clanking and banging of pots and pans. I had heard those sounds many times over the past few months. It was Mildred’s ‘alarm clock’ for when I slept late, too late. I looked at the clock – it read 5:45am.

For a few split seconds I wondered if Mildred’s departure from this plane of existence was but a bad dream… a melancholy sat in knowing that her leaving was no dream.

My erection was poking out from the bottom hem of my boxer shorts underwear. Instead of paying it any mind, I got up, shucked them to the floor and then found the bright pink boardies swim suit that the nurse, Peggy, had given to me from a ‘second hand store’ some time ago.

After rearranging my junk I headed to the restroom, snaked out that which designates me as male, drained the can, washed my hands then made my way to the kitchen to determine the origin of the noise.

Upon entering I was very surprised to find three women busily making breakfast. The greatest surprise, though, was seeing Peggy in the midst of all of them. Her back was facing me but then she quickly turned around after one of the other women said, “There he is. It’s about time!”

Peggy turned around to face the doorway where I was standing.

Her face lit up, a big grin enveloped her face. She sat the pan down and walked to me. We regarded each other very carefully. I asked, “What are you doing here? I mean why…”

She replied, “Well, somebody has to carry on the tradition at least for this morning, don’t you think?”

“But …”

“Don’t worry. My mother taught me how to cook. Don’t worry. Alicia, Terri, you guys take over. Three is a crowd anyway. Come on boy. Come with me.”

“Yes ma’am. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” I said suddenly ashamed of myself for my selfishness.

“It’s okay child. You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you who Mildred was and is to me. She told me a lot about you, what you like, what you dislike … she had you pretty well figured out. You were another one of her children, and she loved you like she did everybody. She told me of your most favorite times here in this house, and well I would like to carry that tradition on. Come on because I am going to run your bath.”

“Yes ma’am. But how did you know?”

“My momma told me to take care of you in the event that she left ‘too early’ to see you grow up – because you’re special. I already knew you were special, of course. The way you played with and supported that little boy with the jelly fish sting – well that gave me my second clue. The first clue was when you didn’t complain any when you were so sick those two times. I’ve seen other good in you. So… run on into the bathroom and prepare for a back washing. I do pretty well or as I’ve been told.”

Sheepishly, as I turned around to walk down the hall, I turned back and pulled her into a hug not knowing what else to say or do.

Peggy walked with me to the bathroom, got down on her hands and knees and turned on the spigots. She said, “I’ll be back in a bit.” She then ran her thumb across my upper lip and added while giggling, “Nope, you don’t need to shave yet.”

With that she took her leave shutting the door behind her.

I’d already used the facilities earlier so I shucked my swimming suit off and got into the tub while it was filling. When the tub was full, I turned off the water and then washed everything except my neck and back. Finished, I knocked 3 times on the wall. No more than 2 minutes later, a knock on the door indicated… at first I thought Mildred just might walk through the door… in a way I was hoping it was her but then again I saw Mildred in Peggy. I replied, “Come in.”

Peggy immediately soaped up a washcloth and then, with the same care and attention to detail, she washed my neck and back then urged me to lean forward. She said, “You have sand burn back here. I’ll get you some cream for it when we go into town.”

That said and done she exited the bathroom closing the door behind her.

I rinsed, got out and dried myself off. I checked out the swimming suit and found that it had sand pockets in its folds. The bathtub had not yet completely emptied so I rinsed the garment, squeezed most of the water out and then hung it on an empty towel rack to dry. I wrapped a towel around my midsection then took off for the room that had been designated as ‘my place’ for whenever I came to visit and stay the night. I put on the boxer shorts, arranged my bits and then put on yesterday’s t-shirt and jeans.

Satisfied that I was sufficiently and appropriately dressed I took off for the kitchen.

Father Ben was waiting. He offered me a cup of coffee. I declined and instead got a glass of orange juice then sat down while the women finished breakfast preparations.

Conversation was light, company was warm and inviting, and discussions were held regarding what Mildred might have liked for her final resting place service. We all agreed the service would be simple affair because that is how Mildred would have wanted if she was doing it herself.

After breakfast was consumed I kinda sort of insisted that I be permitted to wash dishes. Terri helped to dry them while Peggy and Alicia finalized the plans with Father Ben.

Alicia, while she was more distant and aloof, was still warm and inviting. I thought about how Mildred must have instilled it into her daughters while they were still very young and impressionable.

With all plans made and kitchen clean up completed Peggy walked to me and whispered in my ear, “Mildred left something for you, follow me.”

We headed upstairs and then went into Mildred’s room. Her room had an unspoken rule that her space was not to be entered so I was a bit reserved until Peggy led me in, arm in arm. She walked into the walk-in closet, urging me to follow. The large expansive ‘room’ was mostly devoid of what one would expect from a woman’s domain since there were but a few clothes hanging from coat hangers. There were only two pairs of shoes lying all alone on the floor.

While I was taking inventory of Mildred’s possessions Peggy had retrieved a cellophane covered package hanging on a far end coat rack. She said, “I don’t know what is in here but I suspect it will be something that you like. Let’s go see what it is.”

With that she laid it on the bed, unwrapped the packaging material… we both took deep intakes of breath at seeing a beautiful white pair of pants with a matching jacket. A deep maroon tie was draped over the coat hanger. I asked, “Who is that for?”

“Mom wrote a note to you.” Peggy said then reached into a pocket in her blouse. She handed me an envelope and told me to read it aloud. My dearest Antoine,

I am sorry that I had to leave so soon but you know what I mean. Child, I am glad that you returned to us because you have so much to give to the world. Words elude me… I was never much of a writer but I see you writing much in your young life to come.

I hope this suit fits you. I tried to gauge your size when I helped you with your bath… oh my, I hope this doesn’t embarrass you.

Love, Momma Mildred

I broke down in hysterical sobs as I ran my hand over the soft silky material. Up to that point, Peggy had been somewhat reluctant… maybe it was me who was seriously reluctant to let anybody into my heart… but in any event Peggy pulled me into her bosom and let me cry my heart out. She too was evidencing her grief… if felt her shake and tears were flowing onto the back of my neck.

When our tears ceased, I asked Peggy, “She knew but how did she know?”

She replied, “I don’t know for sure. But I’ve heard that people sometimes have premonitions of their soon-to-be departure from life. Mom always had a sixth sense about her. When my dad died… she knew. Sure she was sad but she was okay all at the same time. Wanna try it on? I’d like to see if it needs altering… it might be a bit snug since you’ve been gaining some weight back.”

“Okay… I’d like that. I want to look just right for her.”

Peggy nodded her affirmations then took her leave after assuring me she’d be right outside the door when I was ready.

I stopped her by saying, “Uhm, could you stay? I’ve never had a suit before. I don’t know what I’m doing… I mean, well, you know… I mean… you’ve seen everything… I’ve got underwear on… you know…”

Without another word said, Peggy took the suit jacket off the hanger. Out fell a pair of black silky boxer shorts. “Ohhhh, I like these… Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm these will definitely look good on ya. Hurry up.”

With that said and encouraged, I stripped off my shirt and jeans. Peggy, out of respect, turned her head while I removed my old boxers and put on the new ones. God, they felt good, almost too good but not quite. They fit perfectly, as did the pants, shirt and jacket.

Once again the tears freely flowed but they were not happy tears, and they were not sad tears either. They were just tears knowing Mildred had thought of everything.

The tie – well it was a different story. Neither of us had ever had the opportunity to wear or tie one of those long ties. Peggy said, “My brother Charlie will be here later this morning… I’m sure he’ll help you figure it out.”

Peggy then made sure my pants were ‘just right’, to make sure they didn’t need to be taken up, taken out, or shortened – Mildred did just fine… it fit perfectly needing no alterations.

Peggy said, “Go ahead and take the suit off and hang it back up. We don’t want it getting wrinkled before mom’s big day.”

I readily agreed. She left me to my own devices. I decided I wanted the silky underwear to be clean also so I changed back into the clothes I’d been wearing, straightened and made just right the suit pants and jacket, wrapped it back up and hung it on the rack in Mildred’s closet.

I went downstairs. Father Ben and I did the gardening and talked about this and that for a couple of hours. Toward the end of our chores Father Ben asked, “I’d like you to serve mass for Mildred’s funeral… would you do that for her?”

“Uhm, Peggy asked me to sit with her if that’s okay?”

“I suspected she would. It’s no problem. I have four other boys who will be available. You sit with Peggy, she’d like that.”

I nodded respectfully.

Once we finished chores, not too long later, a guy walked to Father Ben, shook his hand. They seemed to know one another. Father Ben introduced him to me, “Antoine, this is Charles. He prefers to be called Charlie. Charlie is Mildred’s youngest son.”

“I’m pleased to meet you. I’m sorry for your loss.” I shook Charlie’s hand. We regarded each other for a moment. He looked familiar but I couldn’t put my fingers on where, when or how we seemed to know or know of one another.

Charlie said, “It’s nice to meet you too. Mom had told me a little about you. In her own way she loved you very much.”

“Yeah, she talked about her children often… she loved you too very deeply.”

Charlie then made his exit. Father Ben put the tools away in the dilapidated shed and then went our separate ways. I walked down to the beach, sat down on the sand, took my shoes and socks off and then just listened to the sounds of and watched the waves come crashing in.

A few minutes later, I don’t know how much later it was, Charlie sat down next to me. He was smiling. Easily we started talking about this and that and everything. He was much warmer than he had been when Father Ben was present. I found that odd.

And then Charlie did something even odder. He stood up and unabashedly stripped naked and went running into the ocean. He had a nice body (what? I mean he had obviously worked out, his body tight and well tanned – and I mean he was tanned ‘all over’), he was obviously having a lot of fun jumping waves. I looked at him longingly. I wanted to release my hang ups, play like a little kid, and just enjoy life now that I didn’t have to do adult things all the time… do you know the feeling?

I decided to join him. But first, I went to ‘my’ room, changed into the boardies and told everybody where I’d be and that Charlie was there too.

Somewhere along the way Charlie had acquired a boogie board. He taught me how to use it. I found his constant touching me, holding and guiding my butt on the board to be a bit strange yet the waves were crashing in frequently so I didn’t get the opportunity to analyze and evaluate just what I thought that meant. But, at the same time, his touches and stuff was pleasurable… no, not in a sexual way though my member was elongated. I was careful to stay in the water as much as possible – you know, I mean keeping my middle parts ‘in’ the water.

An hour or so later Peggy walked to the beach, got our attention then said it was time for lunch.

After we ate Peggy beckoned me into the bathroom. She had a tube of some kind of cream. I turned away, dropped my pants and underwear so that she could rub some of that stuff onto and into the skin that was irritated from the sand.

Bedtime that night was early since Mildred’s service was early the following morning.

The following morning, breakfast and cleanup was a hurried affair since we needed to be at the church for the 9am service for Mildred.

As per Peggy’s request, I sat in the family section with them.

The mass was a High Mass. A choir had been gathered and they sang happy, jubilant and upbeat songs. Everybody began clapping along with the tempo… I was waiting for people to start dancing but they didn’t… I thought that would have been both a hoot and disrespectful.

A few people got up and said a few words about how Mildred had touched their lives. Many young people were there… they shared about how Mildred had taken them into her heart, and how she’d given them a pillow to sleep on when they had been at their lowest of lows.

Peggy whispered in my ear, “Your turn. She’ll love to hear your take on things. She was always open-minded. Go ahead.”

I replied, “I’ve only known her for a short…”

Peggy looked at me determinedly. I got up, walked to the pulpit, cleared my throat and looked around at the gathering. I’d never spoken to a group of people before. I was nervous. My hands were sweating. But then a peace came over me, “I’ve never spoken in a church before so if I goof it up… my name is Antonio Garza. I’ve only known Mildred for a few months but I grew to love her so much. She was the mother that I never really had. Oh, I had a mother but we were in a bad situation with my father. They are both in jail now for the stuff they did. I did some really bad stuff. I mean some really bad stuff – I took peoples’ choices away from them. Mildred and Father Ben showed me a different life. They loved me unconditionally no matter what. They taught me how to forgive myself for the stuff I did. They taught me how to forgive by their acts of forgiveness. Lastly, I don’t know if I will be able to finish what I want to say, I can hardly breathe …” <I had to stand there for 5 minutes, maybe longer. I lost my sense of timing because my throat and chest were tightening up>. When I got back a modicum of control back I said “Mildred brought me back to living in more than one way. Thank you, Mildred. I love you. Happy trails.”

That said I sat down in the pew next to Peggy. She pulled me into her arms, we wept openly together.

Each of Mildred’s family members got up and said a few words then it was Peggy’s turn. I squeezed her hand then kissed it. As she was walking up to the pulpit I saw her shoulders lightly shaking.

When she arrived up there her eyes were wet then she began speaking “Gosh I don’t know what I am supposed to say here. Mom and I talked about everything there was to talk about. We were the very best of friends. Antoine, momma wanted me to say this to you and to my family. Antoine, I too have lived in shame since my teenage years. You see I was 15 when I got pregnant out of wedlock. I had to give my child up for adoption. He was a boy. The only thing I know about him today is that he lives on the mainland somewhere. He has chosen not to see me or get to know me. I’m 30 now. My mother told me that you were special, and that I should take care of you for as long as you will allow me to. If I could do that then doing so would be my lifelong atonement. But this is not about me. It is about you. In the short time we have known each other, we, or, at least I, well I mean, oh heck, what I am trying to say is that you have grown on me. Antoine, maybe you and I have been given a gift that we are to share. We should at least try to cultivate it and see where it goes. Momma, I love you and always will. Thanks. I like what you said in ‘so long’, Antoine. Happy trails, mom.”

When it came time for communion, I leaned into Peggy and said “Is it okay if I go help Father Ben with communion?”

She squeezed my hand then whispered “Please do. I’ll be in your line.”

Only one line existed. “On second thought, can we go together? I haven’t been since I started doing some things … things that I was ashamed of, things that I thought separated me from God.”

“I haven’t been either Antoine. I just could not bring myself to participate in something I am not worthy of. I feel in my heart thought that God loves me too. I liked what you said about forgiveness. Thanks for saying that from your heart.”

After enjoying a wonderful potluck meal the ladies of the parish had contributed to everybody started leaving including Peggy’s brothers and sisters. All of them, except for one who lives on Maui, were catching flights later on that afternoon so we bade our farewells.

After everyone, except for Father Ben, Peggy and I left, we went upstairs and changed into regular clothes – although I didn’t have my own clothes, I found, in the piles of hand-me-down clothing a pair of red jean shorts, a green t-shirt, and a pair of socks that fit – albeit the socks consisted of one blue and one light blue one. It was fine though… I needed little and wanted none. The other clothes, we’d given them to other kids who really needed them.

Peggy took one look at me then began laughing hysterically. Her laughing became infectious, and even though I was somewhat embarrassed, I laughed right along with her and Father Ben … in fact I laughed so hard that I split out the seam in my butt. There I was standing there with the silk boxers and an ass cheek falling right out of my jeans – of course we all laughed even harder until the whole seam entirely split. We were laughing so hard that we were crying buckets of tears down off of our faces.

“Father, do you know where mother might have kept a tape measure? This boy needs some clothes, and well, and well, and well he …” Peggy could not continue because she began laughing so hard again. In between fits of laughing she got out “can’t go out like that again.”

“I think we can come up with something. Come on you guys, you come with me. Peggy everything up there is your mothers … so …”

In any event, the tape measure was found, I was measured then Peggy took off to get me a pair of jeans to wear.

When she arrived back to the rectory, she had purchased 6 pairs of jeans, several really neat shirts, socks and three types of underwear. The first type was a package of 3 bikini’s, which I knew would not work for me, then two packages of color briefs then a package of conventional boxers.

Obviously, I changed. Her choices were perfect. They all fit very nicely just as I knew they would.

Finally, the moment arrived. The moment had arrived for us to leave and depart. It was late at night. I needed to get back to my living quarters on the beach before someone else claimed it as theirs.

After giving and receiving hugs to and from Father Ben, Peggy and I came together in an embrace that felt exactly like Mildred’s had.

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon for the clinic appointment. I mean if you were still going to take me, either way is fine, I can walk, I need the exercise really I do.”

“Antoine, I’ve been thinking long and hard about this. It is not something very professional of me but sometimes my heart has to win over outside stuff. If you would like to, I’m not pushing you in any direction, but if you would like to hang up your clothes somewhere safe, somewhere they won’t get stolen from … well, you know … okay, I’d like you to come stay with me … I would be very proud if you would accept, please?”

Suddenly, tears just burst out of my eyes. My heart was breaking beyond any belief. I never thought anybody would want me, and yet here was Peggy asking me to come live with her.

Without any reservations, I pulled her into me, she pulled me into her, hugged very, very deeply, and through still flowing tears I said “I’d love to. Thank you so much. I will try to not let you down, I promise I’ll try.”

Peggy’s job was eliminated from the budget shortly after I went to live with her. She said the job loss was actually a blessing in disguise because of the long hours, low pay, worry <she looked right at me when she said ‘worry’>, fighting with the politicians for continued funding, etc. ad infinitum … but I could tell she was upset too. She was actually a God send out there in the field. She was the only contact many people had with the healthcare system, had made friends, and well she actually gave a damn and gave of herself.

Soon though, she got another job at University Hospital in the Intensive Care Unit for surgery patients. At first, the hours were much better in that she worked regular shifts and had most weekends off but that rapidly changed over a relatively short period of time with the addition of several half shifts of overtime.

To pass my time she suggested that I become a volunteer so I went through the training program and was assigned, at first, to the mail room. I found that entirely boring but I stayed there until an opening came up in the Emergency Room. I liked the ER. It was fast paced, and I learned a lot. I developed an ambition to be a doctor and got to be known as ‘quite a pest’ when it came to talking with physicians even though my job did not require interacting with them. But I persisted and was able to help out.

One day the director of nursing called me to her office. When I arrived she had another assignment that she thought I might be interested in. Would I be interested in working the ICU with Peggy? I jumped at the opportunity but I also wanted to spend time in the ER. She approved my request and I was soon ‘working’ 5 days a week. We lived about 2.5 miles from the hospital so I would generally catch a ride in with Peggy then walk home.

Although I was a newbie, as the saying goes, they pulled me in like I was one of their very own doing such things as helping with bathing the patients, filling water carafes for those patients who could have water, providing newspapers to those who could or had their faculties about them, they even let me watch doctors do their various medical procedures on patients, respiratory therapists do their things, and too many other things too numerous to write about here.

Just before school started the most amazing thing happened …

The Light will continue with Chapter 54.

Author’s note: So there you go. You now know how, when, where and why Antoine has come into the story, his background and what he has to offer as a friend. Stay tuned because he plays some very important roles from here on out.

(Reedited September 2, 2011)