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Author’s note: most of this story will take place in Argentina. You will see some Spanish phrases. I’ve kept them very basic to avoid having to translate all of them. Although Argentina is a Spanish speaking country, they have a very distinct dialect, instead of the tu form they use the vos form. It changes some of the spelling and accents especially with verbs. As this is Spanish as I learned it, I'm using it here.

Sebastian: Chapter 1

I stood outside at the curb, waiting for the paperboy. It was misty, dark and the air was so full of moisture I thought it was drizzling, maybe it was and I just couldn’t tell, I scrunched down into my coat, and walked around in circles a bit, trying to keep warm. “This is totally f***** up” I thought, just last week I was home, it was spring, the weather was awesome, and now here I am 6,000 miles away, winter is just starting up again and damn it all, I hate being cold. I’m small and skinny, without an ounce of fat, or a lot of muscle even, to protect me from it.

I bitched to myself while I waited “damn country”, I thought, they don’t even have newspaper deliveries, and damn my dad for his obsession with having the newspaper to read every day.”

I could hear the boy coming down the street, yelling “diario, diariOooo” which I guessed was Argentine for newspaper, but I couldn’t see him through the mist.

“Come on hurry up” I groused to myself, and as if someone had answered my pleas, a human shape materialized from the dark and fog.

I’d only been in Argentina for 2 days and I was totally unprepared for the shocked feeling I’d have at the way some of the people lived. As he got closer and I could make him out more, I realized he was about my age and size. He was dressed in a thin, worn coat. I saw holes in his shoes and in the threadbare sweat pants that he wore. His dirty blonde head was uncovered and matted to his head from the moisture in the air. I couldn’t tell if his hair was truly a dirty blonde or just dirty, it looked like he hadn’t bathed in days, and his clothes were stained and filthy. He walked with his head down, and shoulders hunched, an air of defeat surrounding him, like he realized he was doomed to have a shitty life, I wondered if he even ate every day.

“¿Querés un diario?” he asked me as he approached.

“No hablo Español.” I responded with 3 of the few words of Spanish I knew as I thrust out the money for the paper.

For the first time he looked up, a puzzled expression on his face, my breath caught in my throat, and I’m sure my mouth hung open. He wasn’t the most beautiful person I’d ever seen but there was something about him that left my throat dry and an unpleasant squirming in my stomach.

He reached up to move his bangs out of his eyes, and I felt like I was falling into the most brilliant deep green eyes I’d ever seen, his eyes caught mine and I couldn’t have looked away for anything. He had a smattering of freckles across his nose, his lips weren’t thin or full, they sat there like they knew they belonged. His nose was a little bit small, and his cheeks were pinched, I knew right then that he wasn’t eating enough.

He cocked his head to the side as he looked at me, I know he said something, but I have no idea what it was, I just stared at him blankly and repeated,

“No hablo Español.”

At those words he giggled a bit, said something more, and when I didn’t respond he got a huge grin on his face, his eyes shining. I knew he was teasing me, but I couldn’t do anything about it. Damn I felt so impotent standing there like a dork.

He finally handed me the paper and tried to give me some change, which I refused, again he looked up at me, with that toothy grin and puzzled expression, then he shrugged, the transformation that followed ripped my heart out, I watched the fire in his eyes burn out, his face sagged as he lowered his gaze to the road, and he shuffled off, his shoulders hunched again in resigned defeat. I turned to follow his progress with my eyes and watched until he disappeared into the fog. I stood there for several minutes with so many thoughts and emotions passing through me that I felt like I couldn’t function.

“Sean!” my dad yelled standing inside the door frame, “if you got the paper bring it up, we’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

I ripped my eyes from the fog where he’d disappeared and slowly turned to climb the steps leading up to the house, I didn’t understand why, but I felt like I’d just let something precious slip through my fingers and a hole I hadn’t know existed opened up inside of me, leaving me weary and scared.

“Hey son” my dad said as I entered the house, “you ready for your first day of school here?”

“Not really, Dad”

He’d made breakfast for us while I stood outside. I sat down at the table and loaded my plate with eggs and toast.

“I’m really nervous, I don’t know anyone, and I can’t speak their language.”

Saying that brought to mind images of what my day was going to be like. I put my fork down rapidly. I didn’t feel like eating anymore.

“Don’t worry about it so much, you know you’re only going to school here to pick up the language, it will take a bit of time, but you will be fine. Don’t worry about the other kids, its not like your going to need them, we should only be here a year or so anyway.”

He spoke gently, knowing what I must be going through, after all he had been through the same thing some 20 years earlier.

I knew he was excited about being here. Dad’s a business consultant specializing in helping companies get their products to new markets. I had seen the sparks light up in his eyes when he told us about the job offer with a company in Argentina. I knew we would be coming here. He was going to spend a year with a company helping them break into the U.S. market, advising them on advertising, distributing and anything else they needed to know to sell their product in the U.S.

I would have loved to stay back home with my mom, but she was going to be traveling a lot over the next couple of years. She’s a doctor, but does mostly research. Her team had made a discovery about the human genome, which had the medical and scientific communities very excited. They would be spending a lot of time going to different universities and research facilities to share their discovery, and hopefully expand on it.

“Dad, how did you cope with it, when you came here and couldn’t talk to anyone?” Dad had come here on a mercy mission with our church 20 years earlier, right after he got out of high school. He spent a year here helping the people, building houses, digging irrigation ditches, things like that.

“It was different for me. I was older than you. I had friends and people with me that were also from America, so I wasn’t lonely. I never felt like there wasn’t anyone I could talk to. But you’ll do fine, your 14, your brain will pick up Spanish a lot faster than mine did. And soon it’ll be like you were born here.”

He opened up the paper and I knew our conversation was over. Once he starts reading, you didn’t interrupt him unless the house was burning down. I sat there still feeling queasy, but resigned. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice.

The house had warmed up a bit. Dad had left the burners on the stove going. I guess nobody down here had heating or air conditioning. Suddenly I wondered where the newspaper boy lived? How cold was his house? Did he even have a stove to heat up the house? With those thoughts running through my mind I showered, got dressed and waited for dad to take me to school. I couldn’t help the feeling of dread that had crept over me though, and I just wished the day was through.

Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.

Copyright Notice - Copyright ©2005 by yaalc.

This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form, physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise without the authors expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply

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Sebastian: Chapter 2

It was weird having my dad walk me to school. I was 14 for hell’s sake, but he was the one who spoke Spanish not me. All the checking in and formalities would have to be taken care of by him. The house we were renting was only about a 10 minute walk from the school I’d be attending. There was a closer school, but it was a private catholic school and my dad refused to pay money to have me go to a catholic school.

Dad also didn’t want to get a car here. He told me that Argentina has one of the highest fatal traffic accident rates in the world. And after a couple of days here I’d seen what he meant, these people were nuts. There weren’t a lot corners with stop signs so the drivers would either honk or flash their high beams depending on the time of day, to signal that they were going through the intersection. I couldn’t understand how there weren’t a lot more accidents than there were.

As we got closer to the school I started seeing all the kids that would be my schoolmates and I realized that every one of them had a white smock on over their clothing.

“Dad, are those smocks like a uniform? And shouldn’t I have one?” I asked as we crossed the street in front of the school.

“Oh yeah, all the kids wear them to school. I think they are to help keep their clothes clean, and it also acts as a sort of equalizer. It’s kind of like having them on puts everyone on the same social level. I don’t think it works very well but I’m pretty sure that’s the intention. I’ll pick you up some on my way home from work, there just wasn’t time to do it earlier.”

“Fuck” I thought. I’d dressed like I would have on a normal first day back home, I was wearing a nice pair of black jeans, a thick dark green sweater, and my black sketchers. It was about as dressed up as I get for school. As I looked around at what the rest of the kids were wearing I realized that to a lot of people I was going to be “that pretentious Yankee fuck”. I got really queasy again and was glad I hadn’t been able to finish my breakfast. I would have spewed it up right there in the gutter anyway.

Dad and I walked into the school and found the office. Dad went in and talked to the secretary, after a couple of minutes he came out and directed me to sit with him on some benches that were there.

“The principal will be with us in a bit she’s got some start of school things to deal with first”

I was looking around at the school. It surprised me. It was way bigger than I thought it would be. It was two stories high, and built in a square, around an open central court. It mostly surprised me because the town we were staying in couldn’t have had more then 20,000 people. I asked dad about it and he explained that school here was only mandatory until the 5th grade. There are quite a few small schools located in the different neighborhoods, but anybody going to school from 6th grade on came to this school.

About then a woman came up to us. She looked to be in her early 40’s. She had an authoritative air around her, but at the same time she had one of the most sincere smiles I’d ever seen. I took an immediate liking to her. She ushered us into her office.

She and dad sat there talking for a while. All I could do was sit there and look around. I didn’t understand a word of it, but it must have been pleasant because they both smiled a lot and occasionally broke into a small laugh. I was just about to the point where I was getting really bored and fidgety, when my dad got up and indicated that I should follow them out.

Once we got out in the hall my dad stopped me.

“Señora Garcia and I talked a bit about what we were going to do with you here. We obviously can’t put you into just any class. You wouldn’t understand a word, and it really wouldn’t do you any good. I told her that you would be continuing your education back home. So we decided that you would just spend the next couple of months in the English classes, that way there will be something familiar to you and it will help you pick up Spanish that much faster.”

Before we left the States dad had talked to the principal of my school, and made arrangements for me to home study. I would still have to return to the States about once every 2 months for a week, so I could pick up the next 2 months worth of homework, turn in the work I had done, and take any tests that needed to be taken. That way when we returned I wouldn’t be behind my class and would be able to graduate with them.

I thought about their idea with the English class and realized that it would be perfect. I had been dreading going to math, history or any other class for that matter. I knew I wouldn’t understand a word they were saying.

“That sounds great dad I won’t feel like a total a** and I bet I can even pass.”

“Watch your language young man” he said scowling, “you know how important it is for you to be an example, especially here. Everyone is going to know where you go to church and I especially don’t want to hear that you’re teaching vulgarities to all the other kids.”

“Shit” I thought, I need to be more careful around him. He is as fanatical about religion as he is about his morning paper, and it was one of the things that kept me from getting close to him. I just couldn’t tell him how much I hated his church or why. That was a secret I was going to have to keep close for a long time. I know how the church feels about gays. I hated going there week after week just so they could tell me that I was going to hell. Nobody knew about me so I knew it wasn’t directed at me personally but it sure felt like it was and I was scared to death of what my parents would do when they found out. So I went with them every week. I hated how it made me feel. I hated God for making me think I was gay. And I couldn’t count how many nights I prayed for him to take it away from me.

I will never forget the first day I realized I was different, it was the summer between third and fourth grade. I guess I must have been 8 years old. My best friend, Russ, moved away that year. It was only like thirty miles away, but when your 8 years old it might as well have been a thousand. Russ invited me to a birthday party/sleepover and my mom agreed. When I got there I found out it was just going to be him and I. None of our other friends had been able to get their parents to allow them to go, and he hadn’t made any new friends yet. We spent all day goofing off. I think most of it was spent running through the sprinklers. His mom grilled hamburgers for dinner. Then we did the obligatory cake, ice cream and presents. We spent the rest of the evening in the sprinklers again. It was just getting dark when his mom came out and told us to get to bed. We were going to sleep out in his backyard in sleeping bags under the stars. I was so excited, it would be my first time doing that. She brought him out some underwear and told him to change before going to bed. She went back inside and he stripped down right there in front of me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I don’t know why I stared at him like that, he was the first boy I had ever seen naked, and I still have an image of that night burned into my memory. He looked at me kind of funny as he pulled on his underwear and climbed into his sleeping bag. I felt stupid for having stared at him. I was scared he was going to say something. I couldn’t get to sleep for the longest time that night. I know I had an erection, but I had no idea what to do with it. The next morning his mom took me home, that was the last time I ever saw him. I still get sad thinking about what I lost that summer.

The February after that my grandma became ill, and since there happened to be a house for sale next door to hers, my parents bought it and we moved. It was only 5 miles away but suddenly I found myself in a new school with only 3 months left in the year. By that time everyone had already formed their little groups, plus most of them had grown up together. It seemed like from that day on I didn’t belong. It was then I started withdrawing socially, and when I finally figured out that my attraction to boys meant I was probably gay. I formed a barrier between myself and everyone else. I went to school and went home. From that point on I didn’t have friends and I very rarely did anything with anyone. I was scared to death of what would happen if they found out my secret.



“Are you okay?”

He was looking at me kind of oddly, like he knew I’d totally spaced out and was wondering where I’d gone.

“Yeah, sorry I was just thinking about something” I mumbled

“Well snap out of it son, we’re here.”

The principal opened up the door and beckoned to the teacher. Five minutes later dad was gone and I was standing alone in front of a group of strange kids. I’m pretty sure the teacher did an introduction thing, but I had no idea what she said. She pointed me to a seat up front. I sat down feeling more alone than I’d ever felt before.

Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.

Copyright Notice - Copyright ©2005 by yaalc.

This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form, physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise without the authors expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.

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Sebastian: Chapter 3

By the time we’d gone through all the formalities and got me situated it was almost 10 am. Because they only have the one public school for the whole city, they ran classes in two shifts. One in the morning, and one in the afternoon. I would only have to endure 2 more hours. There was only one English teacher, Mrs. Huber, she taught grades 6 through 12. So every class was a different age and ability. Each class lasted 50 minutes. I felt like I could make it through ok.

The bell ending that class rang. As everyone dashed out of the classroom, Mrs. Huber stopped me and asked me to stay behind for a minute. She asked me a bit about myself, what dad and I were doing here just the basics. It was nice, she actually spoke English fairly well, nothing like my Spanish teacher back home. I think she’d gone to Mexico once and that was her qualification.

“In between classes there’s a 10 minute break, your welcome to sit here and talk to me or you can go out to the courtyard. Just try to be back on time. I’m cutting you some slack today but starting tomorrow I would like to start using you to help my students. You’re being here is a unique opportunity for them to learn from someone that has spoken English since birth. Is that going to be okay with you?”

I shrugged “why not” but I didn’t feel like it was okay. I felt like I was going to be on display like an animal in the zoo. I started feeling a little claustrophobic. I asked to be excused and went out to the courtyard to catch some fresh air.

I sat down on the bench, took a few deep breaths to calm down a bit, and started looking around. The courtyard was full of kids standing in groups, or walking from one class to another. Everyone I looked at seemed to be glancing or pointing in my direction, and I noticed a lot of the girls giggling. It was probably just my imagination, but that didn’t help me feel any less insecure, just what a guy with a complex needed.

I got up and ducked back into the classroom just as quickly as I’d left it. I grabbed a seat in the very back and sat there as quietly as I could, hoping I wouldn’t be noticed. Of course the teacher had to introduce me at the beginning of the last 2 classes. I didn’t understand a word of what she said, but I knew she was talking about me being there as an opportunity for them. Each time she called me up I could feel the heat rising up the back of my neck, there was more giggling from the girls, and it was all I could do to make it back to my seat.

This wasn’t what I’d hoped for when they told me I would just be in English class. I’d really hoped I could just sit in the back and concentrate on trying to learn Spanish from them. I had no clue how I was going to help anyone. I’ve never taught anything and the thought of being put into that sort of interaction scared the s**t out of me.

The last class of the day was full of kids my age, and for some reason that seemed to embarrass me even more than the earlier ones. I realized that sooner or later, these would be my peers in other classes. I felt so alone and helpless at that moment. I couldn’t figure out a way to communicate with any of them and I figured by the time I could that it would be too late. Their first impressions of me would be made, and I’d be a loner once again. It was a shock to admit to myself that I really had been lonely back home, and that I’d held out some hope that I could almost start over and be normal here. After all nobody knew anything about me, and there was no way in hell they could know my secret right? So all I had to do was keep that part of me hidden, and I could be normal. Hell I could even find a girl to date and nobody would even think “that” of me.

When the class ended I waited until everyone else was gone, then trudged my way out to the courtyard again. It was still cold so I put my coat back on and dug into my backpack for the lunch I’d brought with me. I was eating my sandwich when I realized that a lot of people were not just glancing at me but downright staring at me. Looking around I tried to figure out what I’d done to warrant such attention. It slowly dawned on me that no one else was eating. I thought back on the day and realized there wasn’t even a cafeteria here. I thought I’d been smart to bring my lunch so I wouldn’t have to try to ask for something, continuing the thought process brought me to the other reason school let out at noon. Everyone from the morning must go home to eat and the others ate before coming to school.

My throat dried so fast I almost chocked on the bite of sandwich that I’d just finished swallowing. I forced it down, threw my lunch back in my backpack and got up to leave as quickly as I could. I made it to the exit, when a kid my age stepped in front of me. I recognized him from my last English class. He towered over me, at least six inches taller than my 5’5”. He was athletically built, like someone who was active but not someone who lifted weights all the time. And he was very cute. He had the dark hair, eyes and olive complexion I’d expected everyone here to have. His face was clear of blemishes.

I looked up at him then quickly looked back down and tried to sidestep him to leave. s**t its starting here now, I was used to being a target, but I’d sure hoped it would be different here. He stepped to block my path and all I could do was breath out a resigned sigh. I hung my head and waited for the inevitable.

He said something to which I responded with my three favorite words, “No hablo Español”

“I said hi, not hola”

It took a second for what he’d said to enter my brain and another second for me to process it. I raised my head to find him smiling at me, definite amusement written all over his face.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t hear you, hi yourself”

“It ok you probably no think it” his English wasn’t perfect then, but he was talking to me and I understood him, and even better he wasn’t going to use me to elevate his standing as class bully.

“My name Enrique, people say me Ricky” he held his hand out to me.

“My name is Sean, nice to meet you”

He looked at me with his brow furrowed. I’d later come to recognize that as what he did when he was concentrating intently on something. His brow smoothed out and the smile returned.

“Ah, it nice to meet you, same”

Okay so his English wasn’t all that good at all, but it was the most I’d conversed with someone besides my dad and Señora Huber since I’d arrived. On second thought it was almost the most I’d conversed with someone since we’d moved 6 years earlier.

“You go your house?”

“Yes, my house is that way” I pointed up the street.

“Oh? Me same, I walk with?”


The relief finally overwhelmed me and I started giggling.

He looked at me funny again. I bit my tongue to stop giggling, shrugged and we left the school. Turns out he lives around the corner from me. We fell into an easy friendship, and all that winter we spent as much time together as possible. We had a tacit agreement, whenever we weren’t in public or with someone else I spoke as much Spanish as possible as I learned it, with him correcting every error I made, and in return he spoke all English, with me correcting his errors. I never felt bad or discouraged when he corrected me and I know he felt the same.

When I got home that night, dad had left me a note, saying he was going to dinner with some clients and that I was on my own. With the note was a 5 peso bill. I didn’t have a clue as to what to do about dinner. I was tossing ideas around when I heard his voice again. This time yelling what sounded like:

“¡Empanadas! ¡Churrós!”

I had no idea what he was saying. But I hurried outside hoping for just a glimpse of him. He was next door, with a large basket hanging on his arm. He looked exactly like he had that morning, maybe more tired but he still took my breath away. He was putting something on a plate the lady next door had with her. She slipped him some money and he turned to walk towards my house. I ran inside to grab a plate and hurried down to the sidewalk to wait for him.

When he saw me he got an impish grin on his face and said:

“¿Querés empanadas?”

“No hablo Español.”

His grin morphed into a huge smile as he said something else. It sounded like what he had said that morning but I still had no idea what it was.

“No hablo Español” I repeated and held my plate out.

He could barely contain his laughter as he was putting empanadas on the plate. When there were 6 there I stopped him and gave him the 5 pesos. Once again he tried to give me some change but I waved him off. If his smile could have gotten any bigger it would have split his face in half.


“De nada,” hey I’d learned 2 more words that day.

He looked at me for a bit and I wasn’t about to turn away from him. Then once again I saw that transformation from a smiling happy kid, to the dejected wretch. And once again I felt like my heart was being ripped out. He shuffled off. I went in to eat whatever it was he’d sold me, and hey they turned out to be excellent. I thought if he sells these every day, Ill be a regular. The day’s events had worn me out so I called it an early night and crawled into bed. After all I had to be up at 530 to get the paper. I smiled to myself as I fell asleep.

Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.

Copyright Notice - Copyright ©2005 by yaalc.

This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form, physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise without the authors expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.

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Sebastian: Chapter 4

“Get out of my way you little prick”

I knew those words would be followed by a fist. Either to my gut or kidneys, depending on the way I was facing. So I scrambled out of bed as fast as I could, making way for my brother Pablo to get out.

The feeling of the cold dirt floor on my feet always sent a shock wave up my body. It left me feeling like my nuts had been shoved back up inside. I scrambled madly in the dark for my shoes. They weren’t much but they did offer some protection from the cold.

I hated sleeping with my brothers. They were both older than me and made me sleep on the outside edge, where the cold would be felt more fiercely. It also meant I had to get up as soon as they did so I didn’t get in the way of their morning piss.

“Shut the f**k up,” roared my dad from behind the blanket that separated the small hut into two rooms “s**t I could have slept for 20 more minutes if it wasn’t for you, you little piss ant.”

Tears of frustration found their way to my eyes. I wasn’t the one who’d made all the noise, but I was always the one to get the blame. I knew better than to say anything though, the last time I did dad smacked me so hard I couldn’t see anything but stars for close to half an hour. And to top it off, both Pablo and Jorge had added their say with a fist to the gut.

Dad, Pablo and Jorge all worked out in the tea fields. It was brutal work and the pay was for s**t. They all started when they were 14 and were royally pissed at me, just because I hadn’t hit my growth spurt and was too scrawny to work in the fields. It wasn’t my fault mom had f***** her boss and had me. It wasn’t my fault that they were dark haired and I was blonde. It wasn’t my fault they were built big and I wasn’t. It wasn’t my fault that the government had ceded all this land to the Pollock’s, Ukraine’s and ex Nazi’s at the end of World War 2. And it wasn’t my fault that the Pollock’s had all the money and they had none. So if none of this was my fault why the f**k did they have to take it out on me?

I don’t know why I even think about it. The same thoughts have roamed my mind for most of the last 14 years, nothing’s changed and nothing ever will. I’d just have to keep trudging along until I could get away from them or until I got hit by a truck, either way I would be free.

Dad lit a candle on the other side of the curtain. And I scrambled to find my clothes. If I wasn’t out selling papers by 5 am there would be hell to pay. I grabbed the set of clothes I had that wasn’t out hanging on the line to dry. I’d be able to wear those ones in another 3 or 4 days if the weather cleared up a bit. I pulled my sweats on being careful not to snag my toes on the holes in the knee, they were already big enough, and I didn’t need them bigger. I put on the socks I’d worn for the last 5 days, they were getting hard to put on, and they scraped my calves as I pulled them up. One of them had a big hole that let my big toe hang out. The other one had a hole in the ankle. I tried to switch feet every day so the same toe wasn’t cold all the time. I pulled the old sweater that didn’t quite fit me anymore over my head, and tried to line the holes up so they didn’t match the holes in my t-shirt. It got really cold if that happened.

Seeing moms shadow behind the curtain I knew time was short. I grabbed my coat and fled the house as fast as I could. It wasn’t hard to leave. It was just a wooden door without a lock. I carefully laid the door back in its place and turned to look around me. The winter mist that was more moisture than fog had settled in hard this morning leaving the streets muddy and slippery. I’d have to be careful where I walked today. The red dirt that’s given distinction to our corner of Argentina was pretty when it was dry but when it was wet it was like glue. It clung to everything. Mom hated having to wash clothes that were covered in that grime. Bringing home something like that for her to wash was sure to earn a backhand upside the head. But only if it was me, if the workers came home with dirty clothes that was just part of the job.

I trod carefully along the side of the street where some vegetation grew. I had fled without eating breakfast so I had a little extra time before I had to pick up the papers that I would try to sell that morning. I reached the point of the road where the dirt ended and the cobblestone began. I breathed a little easier. I really didn’t give a f**k about whether my pants got dirty or not, but I really didn’t want to deal with “those people” today.

I’m not sure when I started referring to my family as “those people.” But I think it had something to do with a lesson I’d been taught in 4th grade. The lesson was about families and the teacher made it seem like a family should be some sort of loving unit or some bullshit like that. Mine never was so I decided we weren’t really a family and they became “those people.”

I had a lot of time to think while I walked around with the newspapers. I kept my head down to watch for mud, and let my mind roam wherever it wanted. I reached the newspaper distribution point, picked up a stack and off I went.

I tried to vary my route, I had a certain area to cover, but I know how much people hated being woken up by someone shouting “newspaper” at that time of morning. Several times someone would come out on their porch and throw something at me, bitching at me for being too loud. And it’s those same bastards that complained to my boss if they didn’t have an opportunity to get the paper in the morning.

That morning I headed up to the nicer area of my route. I tried to avoid going there first as much as possible but I tended to sell more papers there. And the sooner I got done and out of this drizzle the sooner I could get home. I loved going home after my paper route. The “men” were all gone to work in the fields, and mom was off at her job. She worked as a maid for one of the Pollock families. I’ve never met her boss but someday I’d like to see him. He is my real father after all. With everyone gone to work I could go home and take a nap. I had the bed to myself. I didn’t have to worry about which one of them was going to smack me. It was the only time of day I felt safe.

I shuffled up the street shouting out the occasional.

“Diario, DiariOooo.

I would glance around to see if anybody was around that might want a paper. Mostly they just yelled to me but sometimes they were busy talking to a neighbor or something and just waved me over. I hated when they did that. They’d grab the paper out of my hands and drop the 50 cents assuming I’d be able to grab it. Half the time I had to crawl around looking for the coins, while they looked down their noses at me like I carried the plague.

For each paper I sold I received 5 cents. They gave me 40 papers to sell in a day. That left me with a whopping 2 pesos to take home. If I sold them all that is. I tried hard to sell them all. My dad didn’t like it when I didn’t contribute as much as he thought I should. I hated giving him the money. Most of it went for cigarettes and beer anyway. The least they could have done was make sure I had something to eat every day. But I guess I wasn’t as important as the booze and smokes were.

Although the weather was lousy it turned out to be a good day to sell papers. I was down to 5 when I happened across a boy who looked my age standing there looking at me.

“Do you want a paper?”

“I don’t speak Spanish” and he shoved a couple of pesos at me.

I reached up to sweep my bangs out of my eyes so I could see him better. He didn’t look like he belonged here. He was wearing clothes like I’d never seen before. And his coat looked thick and warm. But at the same time he was still shivering, weird. He had coal black, wavy hair. And his eyes, they were the lightest blue I’d ever seen on someone. I couldn’t understand what he was doing here. He obviously didn’t belong.

I was feeling a little mischievous this morning, and was ready for someone else to be at the receiving end. And since it was obvious he didn’t speak Spanish I decided to have a little fun. I couldn’t keep the s**t eating grin off my face.

“Suck my dick” I told him.

He just looked at me with confusion evident in his eyes. For some reason it cracked me up. It wasn’t really that funny but the look on his face was priceless. I’d had enough fun with him so I handed him his paper and tried to give him his change. He refused and I wasn’t about to insist. A dollar fifty tip on a fifty cent newspaper was more than I would ever see again.

It was when I realized I’d probably have to turn it over to “those people,” my shoulders slumped, and I turned and trudged away. I heard someone yell to the boy but I didn’t understand a word they were saying.

Thirty minutes later I’d sold all the papers. My stomach was pissed at me for skipping another meal. f**k it I used the buck fifty to buy me a small breakfast then went home to nap. I was more content at that moment than I’d been in a long time.

Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.

Copyright Notice - Copyright ©2005 by yaalc.

This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form, physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise without the authors expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.

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Sebastian: Chapter 5

A shockwave of pain ripped me from my sleep. I found myself on the icy cold dirt floor. Looking around wildly for the source of this upheaval, I came face to face with mom. Her face was distorted into a scowl, her eyes shooting daggers at me. I realized she’d dragged me out of bed by my hair.

“What the hell are you doing asleep instead of at work?”

I looked around wildly trying to figure out what time it was. The old clock sitting on the table said 2 pm.

“Five hours?” I thought “how did I sleep that long. And oh s**t I should have been out working three hours ago.”

I sold newspapers in the morning. For lunch and dinner I walked around town selling Empanadas and Churros. Lunch was always the best time for selling them. I almost always brought home at least three pesos, and at times as much as five. Missing the lunch shift would really piss dad off.

“Get some clothes on and get your a** up to Señor Kotik’s and beg him not to fire you. You know what’ll happen to you if you lose that job.

I didn’t know exactly what would happen to me, but I imagined it involved a beating and a day or two without food. If they didn’t just outright kick me out. The thought of being out there on my own scared me. It was the only reason I came back to this place every night. With work schedules I managed to stay away from them almost all the time. I only had to see them for a few minutes at night and in the morning.

A shudder running through my body reminded me that I was standing there half naked and that it was cold as hell. Looking down I realized just how exposed I was. My shorts didn’t do much to cover me. The elastics around the legs and waist had all given out a long time ago. The leg holes drooped open. The waist drooped down to where you could just see the pubes I’d gotten recently. The material was worn thin and there was a hole in the stitching where the two halves had been sewn together between my legs. I scrambled into my clothes again. In a hurry I wasn’t careful enough and my toes caught in one of the holes in my pants, leaving another half inch of my knee exposed.

I headed out at a run to Señor Kotik’s. I arrived, breathless, ten minutes later. I burst into the door of his shop. He looked down on me with a guarded expression, obviously waiting to hear my excuse.

“I’m sorry” I managed to splutter in between gasps for air. “I fell asleep. I was so tired this morning. It won’t happen again I promise. Please don’t fire me.”

I did my best to hold back the tears. The fear of what would happen to me if I lost my job and the guilt I felt for having overslept almost overwhelmed me. I’m sure a few tears managed to leak out.

A sympathetic look passed over his face.

“Hey, I won’t have any of that crying s**t here. So you missed a lunch run. So what? Your still one of the best boys I have working for me. I don’t know how you do it boy. All the others will only work for one of the meals yet you work both of them and I know you do the papers in the morning. Do you even take time to play with your friends?”

A wave of relief passed over me. I’d still catch hell for the money I didn’t make that day but I still had my job so I hoped it wouldn’t be that bad.

“I don’t really have any friends, and besides my family needs the money.” I replied in a mere whisper.

“What your family needs is a good kick in the a**. How that drunken bum of a father of yours makes you work is a disgrace. You’ve worked here what? Three years? I’ve never known you to be absent except the one time you were sick. And in that whole time I’ve never seen you with friends or doing anything but working. s**t boy. You need a day off just like the rest of us.”

“Thank you sir for not firing me, it would have made them mad.”

He looked at me a blank expression on his face. But I could see the anger in his eyes.

“Umm, Sir?”

“What now boy?”

“I really don’t feel like going back there right now. And I need to make up for the lost wages. And since there’s only an hour until the dinner run anyway, is there anything you need done around here?”

A blank expression came over his face.

“You know I can’t give handouts to everyone that needs them. I’d go broke if I did. And I never show preference to any of my workers.”

My face fell. I’d really hoped he would have something for me to earn some money. It was the only way I could think of to avoid a problem at home. I must have been close to tears again. God I hated knowing they had this much power over me.

“Sebastian,” he said gently “did you eat lunch today?”

I shook my head no, still looking at the floor. I wondered why he would even ask.

“Come inside there’s some leftovers from the lunch run that will go to waste anyway. You eat something then come back out here and I’ll see what I can do to put you to work.”

The Kotik’s had their rooms behind the shop. I’d been back there a couple of times over the last few years. But I’d never been invited to eat there. He put a few of the leftover empanadas on a plate and got me a glass of coke. I couldn’t believe my luck. I’d only tried coke once. It was one night last summer. Dad had been mixing it with whisky. When he passed out there was a couple of swallows left in the bottle. I’d snuck over and finished it off. It was warm but still, I liked it.

I was hungry but I forced myself to eat slowly, savoring every bite. I sipped the coke trying to make it last as long as possible. While I was eating I thought about the events of the day. Except for sleeping through the lunch run, it had been a good day. I’d already had two meals, I got the sleep I needed, and I didn’t lose my job.

When I was through I rinsed off my dishes and went out to find Señor Kotik.

“How much do you usually make during a lunch run?”

“Normally I make three pesos.”

“Okay, here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll pay you three pesos to sweep up in here and the sidewalk out front. Then you can mop up the floor in here. I could really have used your help getting these ready to go but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He said looking me over.

I blushed, I knew I was dirty but there wasn’t much I could do about it. The only way I could get cleaned up was by taking a bucket of water into the backyard to wash myself off out there. But during the winter it was too cold to do that every day. I forced myself to do it once a week. I hated the way I smelled too.

“Oh, and I need you to do it quickly. This isn’t going to become a normal thing. And I really don’t want any of the other kids seeing you doing it.”

“Yes sir”

Still blushing I hurried to do as he asked. It didn’t take me too long and before I knew it he’d given me the three pesos and pushed me out the door with a basket full of Empanadas and Churros for the dinner run.

I’d had such good luck that morning by that foreign kid’s house that I decided to start up there again. The sun had come out enough that day to burn off the mist that had been there that morning. The sky was that hazy winter blue and the sun’s weak rays felt good on my shoulders. I felt good. It wasn’t something I was used to feeling. I relished it though knowing full well it wouldn’t last.

The lady at the house next to the foreign kid’s stopped me to buy some Churros. While I was there I saw the kid out of the corner of my eye. I wondered why he would be looking at me. Hadn’t he ever seen a poor kid before? And I didn’t think I was much to look at. He is cute though and I like the way he smiles at me.

I wasn’t very surprised when I saw him standing there with a plate. He pointed at the empanadas. It must have been the good mood I was in but I grinned and asked him.

“Would you like some empanadas?”

“I don’t speak Spanish.” He replied

I decided to tease him again. I don’t know why it amused me so much, hell he couldn’t understand what I was saying. But still I thought it was funny.

“Suck my dick.”

It wasn’t very original but I still found it amusing and my smile got bigger. I put empanadas on his plate. He stopped me at six and gave me five pesos. The empanadas were 50 cents each so I got his 2 bucks change and tried to give it to him. He waved me off again just like that morning. When I realized he was giving me another big tip I smiled so wide I thought my lips would crack.

“Thank you.” I said.

“Your welcome.” He said.

I looked at him for a minute wondering what it would be like to be like him. To be able to eat every meal. To have warm clothes. To have a real house to sleep in. then reality hit me and I berated myself for even thinking it. Nothing was going to change. I turned away and shuffled off feeling a lot worse than I had earlier.

It wasn’t till I’d walked several blocks that I realized that my basket was empty except for four empanadas. I decided to use the two dollar tip to buy them for myself and hurried across the street to a small park where I could sit on a bench while I ate. As I got up to leave and go home I realized I’d had three meals today. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.

Copyright Notice - Copyright ©2005 by yaalc.

This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form, physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise without the authors expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.

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Sebastian: Chapter 6

Although I'd gone to bed early I couldn't sleep. I hated nights like this. Whenever I've had an eventful day as soon as my head hit the pillow my brain turned on, trying to process the day's events and make some sense out of them. When that happened I knew I'd be tossing and turning for hours. I huddled under the stack of blankets I had on me. I guess winter was short enough or mild enough that no one here had central heat.

The day's events whirled around in my mind. And I asked myself a lot of questions. Why was I attracted to the paperboy? He's not drop dead gorgeous. He's not hideous either. What would he look like cleaned up? Did I pity him? Did I want to take care of him? I couldn't figure it out. But the attraction was there. I couldn't deny it. What about god? Would he want me to like this boy? Probably not, maybe I should just be his friend. Ricky? Now he was gorgeous, but I wasn't attracted to him physically. Why not? He was obviously straight for one. I guess I just put him in the unattainable category automatically. But he was fun to be around. I'd have to be careful not to slip around him. I didn't want to lose his friendship.

I replayed in my mind the two times I'd interacted with the boy. Both times he'd said something. I knew he was teasing me and I wanted to get to the bottom of it. I remembered the miniature tape recorder I'd brought with me. Ignoring the cold, I got out of bed and searched for it. When I was sure it had batteries and still worked I crawled back into bed. Before long I drifted into a deep sleep.

The alarm barely went off and I was out of bed and hopping into my clothes. I cracked my window open and climbed back into the warmth of my bed. I knew from yesterday that I'd hear him coming long before he got there. No need for me to stand out in the cold. I had drifted into a light doze before I heard him coming. I got up, put my shoes on and headed out to meet him. The morning was nothing like yesterday. The sky was clear. I couldn't believe how many stars were visible. The air around me was crisp and cold but not wet like yesterday. And there he was.

As he approached I could see he already had that impish grin and the light in his green eyes danced. Again my heartstrings were tugged. He was wearing the exact same clothes as the day before. Today he looked not happier but more content maybe.

"Would you like a newspaper?" he asked.

It hadn't been hard to figure out what he was saying there. I knew diario was newspaper, the rest was assumption but I went with it. I nodded my head yes and gave him 2 pesos. He tried to give me some change again, which I refused again. He looked at me with his head cocked to the side. I really loved the way he did that. It was just a cute quirk of his. Then he got that big grin and said it again. He walked off smiling. That was a change and I was glad I had left him with a smile.

I ran inside, put the paper on the table and hurried back to my room. Pulling the recorder from my coat pocket I rewound it. It was perfect. The whole conversation was there. "Gotcha" I thought. Ricky would be coming over to walk to school with me. I'd ask him what it meant.

Heading back to the kitchen I sat down to breakfast. Dad already had the paper up and was reading. I didn't even bother saying good morning. He wouldn't have heard me. Breakfast over, I showered and got ready for school. When I was ready I went back out to the kitchen to wait for Ricky. Dad was done with the paper.

"Morning dad."

"Morning Sean, sleep well?"

"Once I got to sleep I did, I tossed and turned for a long time though."

"Not surprising, a lot's happened the last few days."

"More than you know dad." I thought to myself.

"Oh dad, they don't do lunch at school, so I'll have to come home to eat."

"Hmm we haven't had the chance to go shopping yet, and you don't know the first thing about cooking anyway. How about if I just leave you some lunch money. You can pick something up to eat."

"Great that'll work, thanks dad."

Dad slipped me two five peso notes.

"That should be enough for today, we'll figure out later how much you need. Now I gotta run its going to be a busy day, I'll be home for dinner though, cya then."

"Ok, have a good one Ill see you tonight."

Ricky showed up soon after dad left. He was a bit early but that's ok I had something for him to do. I told him about the boy and how he seemed to be teasing me and I told him that I'd taped him that morning.

"Let me hear it."

I played the tape for him. He laughed his a** off for a minute. Until I asked him what it meant. He got red and thought for a minute.

"I not know how say it."


He fumbled for the words but couldn't find them. He finally looked at me, I don't think his face could have got any redder.

"He say."

He fumbled some more then just pointed at his crotch and his mouth and made the universal signal for blow job, tongue in cheek and everything. It was my turn to be embarrassed. I felt like my face was on fire. "That little s**t" I thought. That's when an evil little idea jumped into my head.

"Hey Ricky, how would I say……."

As we walked to school we played a stupid game we'd come up with. Ricky would point to something and say the word in Spanish. I'd then say it in English. And lastly I'd say it in Spanish and he would say it in English. It sounds stupid but over the next few weeks our vocabularies grew immensely.

The day flew by. I didn't really enjoy having to help in English class. But it wasn't as bad as I'd expected either. Every spare minute I could I spent memorizing the words that Ricky had written for me. Ricky didn't have English that day but we got together in between classes and hung out. He introduced me to a lot of people. I didn't catch anything they said. But they didn't seem to care. I just hung off to the side enjoying the feeling of having friends again.

We walked home together playing our game and somehow communicating enough to joke and laugh about things that had happened that day. We got to my house and made plans for the afternoon. We were both tired and decided to take the siesta. Ricky was going to come over about four. He needed help with an English assignment, and then we were just going to do whatever until dinner.

I unlocked the door and had just tossed my backpack on the couch when I heard his voice. It looked like I was going to get my revenge sooner than I'd hoped. I grabbed a plate and headed out to exact my revenge. I had a big smile on my face but I couldn't help it. This was going to be too good. The little s**t deserved it.

I waited at the bottom of the steps again. As he walked up I could see he had that impish grin. When he saw the big smile on my face he hesitated. It was almost like he could feel that I was up to something. I bit my tongue hard. That wiped the smile off my face. I held out my plate. He put six empanadas on there and I signaled enough. He only had six left in the basket when he was done with me. I handed him five pesos. And again he tried to give me the change. I just waved it off again. It was only two pesos for hells sake.

He got that evil little grin on his face and said exactly what he'd said before. But this time I was ready for him.

?No gracias. Tu pija probablemente tiene gusto a mierda.? (No thanks, your dick probably tastes like s**t.)

The expressions that passed over his face for the next thirty seconds were priceless. Shock, followed by guilt and then strangely, fear. I was laughing so hard I had to set my plate down or my lunch was going to end up in the dirt. It was then I noticed he seemed to be holding back tears. He hurried off. I was shocked. What was going through his head? I ran after him and grabbed his arm to stop him. s**t, I don't know how to ask what's wrong. I couldn't even apologize for whatever it was that I'd caused him to feel.

I was saved by the rumbling of his stomach. I searched my memory I know I'd learned how to say hungry today.

?¿tu hambre? ? I asked knowing it wasn't quite right.

He shook his head no. His stomach growled again and I knew he was lying. I half dragged him back to my place. Picking up the plate I'd left there, I dragged him up the stairs and into the house. He tried to resist me a little bit but I could tell he was still afraid of something. I got another plate out. Handed him five more pesos and put the last six empanadas on his plate. I sat him down and then sat down between him and the door. He wasn't getting away until he'd had something to eat. He protested quite a bit. I just looked at him and gave him my customary.

?No hablo Español?

He actually pouted for a minute but realized he couldn't say anything I'd understand. I indicated that he should start eating and reluctantly he did so. I was on my second one when I realized we needed something to drink. I poured us a couple of glasses of coke. When he saw that his eyes went wide and that spark that made it so his eyes seemed to have an ocean in them returned. He sat there grinning like a little kid at Christmas.

?Gracias.? he said softly.

?De nada.? it was my turn to have a grin on my face.

I pointed at myself.


He seemed to understand and pointed at himself.


The winter passed quickly. During the week Seba had lunch with me every day. Sometimes we had empanadas but we mostly grabbed a hamburger or a sandwich. I always had a glass of coke for him. I loved the way he smiled every time I gave him one. By the end of August I was able to carry on a fairly decent conversation with him. I don't know if he was a friend or not but I really enjoyed his company. There was a lot more to him than met the eye. He was intelligent and funny. I looked forward to those lunches. It scared me. I was falling for him hard. But I'd promised God I wouldn't do anything so I didn't. I just tried to enjoy the time we spent together.

Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.

Copyright Notice - Copyright ©2005 by yaalc.

This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form, physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise without the authors expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.

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Sebastian: chapter 7

When I got home that night dad was waiting for me. I dug into my sweats and handed over the cash I'd made as fast as possible. I was really hoping that he'd forgive my oversleeping since I'd brought home the usual amount. He counted it and it must have mollified him a bit 'cause he only cuffed me on the back of the head and warned me about what would happen if I lost my job. It hurt but it wouldn't leave a mark. I sat on the floor in the corner and did my best to disappear. If they didn't notice me they couldn't hurt me.

Mom made lentils for dinner. We didn't have any meat to put in it but still it was something. Once again I got the smallest portion along with the end piece of a stale loaf of bread but for once I didn't care. I'd actually eaten well that day. "Those people" seemed to enjoy their meal. They'd sent me to buy a couple of liters of beer and they were all drinking and laughing.

I cowered in the corner watching them until dinner was over. Our shack was so small that there wasn't room for everyone to sit at the table. We only had two chairs anyway. Pablo and Jorge sat on the edge of our bed. They could still have their plates on the table while they ate. When dinner was over Pablo and Jorge simply rolled over and fell asleep where they were. Mom and dad went behind the blankets that hung from the ceiling separating their bed from the rest of the room. I waited until the lights were off and everyone else was asleep before I got undressed for bed. I piled my clothes together on the floor nearby and slid carefully into bed.

The next morning I woke up before everyone else. I eased myself out from under the covers and crawled out onto the floor. I felt around for my pile of clothes. Gathering them up I eased out the door. It was freezing but I'd make less noise if I got dressed outside. Dressed and shivering I moved out to pick up the papers for my route. I jogged a couple of blocks to get my blood flowing and to help warm me up a bit. I tried to keep moving all day. It helped me stay warm.

Once again the foreign kid was there waiting for me. He had one of those huge grins that meant he was hiding something. I couldn't figure out what he was up to. But then the grin left his face and I decided it must have been something that happened inside. I gave him his paper and tried to give him his change. He refused again. That made me happy I would have breakfast again. I looked at him and wondered why he was so nice to me. Oh well I thought. Once again I told him to suck my dick. It was pretty childish but the blank look on his face as he tried to figure out what I'd said made me laugh. I walked off anticipating the pastries I would eat for breakfast. The smile never left my face.

A funny thing happened after that. People seemed to be buying papers more than usual I burned through the forty I had in an hour. That had never happened before. And the more I sold the more the smile grew on my face. And strangely the more I smiled the more people waved me off when I tried to give them change. I learned a valuable lesson that day. A smile and courteous demeanor meant more sales and tips for me. I hurried back to where I picked the papers up and asked for twenty more. The boss looked at me with a surprised expression but gave them to me. I was hungry but if things continued well I could sell these twenty in a short amount of time.

I didn't sell them all but I only had to take two back. It had been a great day. With the tip from the foreign kid and everyone else I had five pesos. It was three more than they expected from me. I could barely contain myself as I ran to the bakery and treated myself to a half dozen pastries. I got a variety of things. I ate things that day that I'd never had before. It was so good.

I managed to stuff myself and it made me drowsy. It was still earlier than normal for me to be done. I ran home and remembered to set the alarm clock. I really didn't want to oversleep again.

Three hours later I woke up feeling something I'd rarely felt before, happy. The little guy was demanding attention but I didn't dare right then. I'd learned how to beat off the year before but as much as I loved the feelings it gave me, there wasn't often a chance for me to do it especially in the winter. It was mostly clean up that was the problem. If I started using too much toilet paper there'd be hell to pay. I didn't have a rag to clean up with and unlike the summer if you left it in your pants it got really cold. So I ignored the little guy and went to work.

I tried what I had learned that morning. I smiled a lot and was courteous to everyone I saw. It seemed to work fairly well. Before long I was down to my last dozen empanadas. I realized I was on the foreign kid's street and sure enough there he was waiting for me with a plate in hand. I was happy and I knew I was going to tease him again. The blank look on his face was too good to pass up. As I approached him I realized he had a huge s**t eating grin on his face. I hesitated wondering what was up but the smile faded off his face. Must have been something going on inside I thought.

I began putting empanadas on his plate. He stopped me at six and handed me a five peso bill. I tried to give him his two pesos back and again he refused. I considered not saying anything but I couldn't resist. So I told him to suck my dick again.

"No thanks, your dick probably tastes like s**t." And he burst out laughing.

At first I couldn't believe it. How did he figure out what I was saying so fast? And then it hit me, if he says something to Señor Kotik there was no way I'd keep my job. s**t. Things had been going so good and I f***** it up again. Tears sprang to my eyes. I managed to hold them back and hurried off as fast as I could.

The foreign kid grabbed my arm to stop me. He opened his mouth to say something several times but didn't say anything. I could see the frustration on his face. He was searching for something to say but couldn't find it. My stomach chose that moment to let me know it was empty again. The one drawback to eating regularly is that your stomach starts expecting it.

"You hungry?" he asked

His Spanish wasn't great but I understood. I shook my head no. And damn it all, my stomach rumbles again. He gave me a look and started pulling me up to his house. I reluctantly let him. I didn't know what was going to happen but I figured whatever it was I'd deserve it for mouthing off at him. And maybe if he smacked me around a bit he wouldn't tell my boss what had happened.

He stooped down to pick up the plate he'd left there and dragged me up into his house. It was nice. The door opened into a front room/kitchen that was big enough to fit my whole house into. There was a TV on a stand in the corner. A couple of sofas were placed along the walls and a table with four chairs in the middle of the room. He sat me down in the chair furthest from the door. He pulled out another plate and put the last six empanadas on it. He put five pesos on the table next to be then sat down close to the door.

I wasn't going to take his charity and I didn't need him feeding me. I told him so. And every time I opened my mouth he pop off with the "I don't speak Spanish" bullshit. f**k it I thought I'm hungry and if he wants to waste his money on me that's his problem. When I started eating he relaxed a bit and started eating himself. He got up after a few minutes looking a little embarrassed. He got a couple of glasses out and poured us both a glass of coke. When he brought me mine I couldn't help but grin. I'd really grown to like the stuff. Realizing I wasn't being very gracious I hung my head and whispered.

"Thank you."

"Your welcome" he said with a huge grin on his face.

He pointed to himself and said, "Sean."

I guessed that was his name so I pointed at myself.


The happy glint in his eyes was infectious and I couldn't help myself. We couldn't even talk but I really enjoyed being there with him. I'll never understand how we ended up having lunch together every day. It was like he'd invited me without saying anything. I went to his house every week day when I was done selling and we'd have something for lunch. It was wonderful. Sandwiches, hamburgers or whatever else we felt like. And every day a glass of coke. If someone had told me a week earlier that I would soon find happiness, I would have decked him for being a liar. But that winter turned out to be one of the best times of my life.

By the time August rolled around Sean's Spanish had improved to the point that we could have conversations. I loved talking to him. He always treated me like an equal. He never made an issue of my situation. I did see him wrinkle his nose a couple of times when I was especially ripe but he never once treated me different. One time he tried to give me some clothes but I wouldn't have it. None of "them" could ever know about our lunches and if I came home wearing decent clothes there would be hell to pay. They'd never allow me to have something better than them.

We talked about everything from sports to families to school. I couldn't believe he'd chosen to pull for River Platte, they happened to be my favorite fútbol team also. It fascinated me that he went to school here and would be taking classes back home also. I don't think I could ever study that much. Sometimes if we finished lunch with enough time before I had to go back to work. We'd do other things. He taught me how to play video games. We watched TV. We just hung out at times. It was weird to think that my first true friend wasn't even from Argentina.

At the end of August my life would change forever. Sean and his dad were preparing to fly home for a week. I was bummed out. I was going to miss him and I didn't like the thought of not eating well for a week. On several occasions I'd met Sean's dad. I think he was the nicest grown up I'd ever met. He treated me just like Sean did. I never once felt inferior in their presence. He spoke fluent Spanish and insisted I call him Pedro, which he told me, was his name in Spanish.

It was Friday and I was having lunch with Sean. His dad came home early probably because they were leaving early the next morning. I was trying not to mope but I knew I wasn't doing a good job of showing my feelings. It was almost time for me to leave for work when Pedro asked to speak with me for a minute. I couldn't help feeling guilty. I couldn't remember doing anything wrong though.

"You know we are going to be gone until late next Saturday right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can it with the sir Seba. Listen I need someone to check on the house everyday while we are gone. I'll pay thirty pesos. What do you think? Can you stop by everyday to make sure everything's ok?"

"Sure Pedro. But you don't need to pay me."

I couldn't wipe the huge grin off my face. It was almost like he knew how much their house had become a refuge for me.

"Nonsense, if you're coming here everyday you won't have time to get lunch, the least I can do is provide you with enough to get one. Your welcome to use anything here just clean up any plates you use. And make sure you lock the door when you leave."

I knew he was lying to give me an excuse to do it. But I didn't care. And suddenly tears came to my eyes. I couldn't believe how good they were too me. I felt more love with them in one day than I'd felt in my entire life at home. I felt his arms around me. He pulled me close and let me cry on his shoulder. When I was done crying I felt horrible for sitting on his lap with my dirty clothes. But he didn't say a word about it.

It was time for me to get to work. So I thanked Pedro again and wished them a good trip. As I was leaving Pedro showed me the secret place they kept a spare key, he didn't think it would be a good idea for me to take a key home with me and I agreed.

"Oh and Seba, I'll leave the money on the table for you. I suggest you only spend what you need to for lunch and leave the rest here. I'd hate for you to 'lose' it."

He gave me a look to show me he knew damn well that if my dad found me with extra money he'd take it for booze and probably smack me around too.

That week went faster than I thought it would. I went to Sean's house every day to have lunch. I was really careful with the money, spending only what I needed for food. On Friday I hurried through the lunch run as quick as I could. I saved half a dozen empanadas for myself and practically ran to Sean's house. I spent the next two hours cleaning their house. I wanted them to be surprised when they came home.

Saturday came, I checked their house one last time and worked until late that evening. When I made it to "their house" that night I knew something was up. There was a lot of laughing and even music. I guess mom had gotten a bonus for something or another and they were drinking it away. I sat quietly in the corner until they all passed out. Getting undressed I slipped into bed. I will never fully remember what happened. I was having a dream. It was a really good dream too. I hadn't taken care of the little guy in quite awhile. I had been afraid that Sean would notice the extra smell. I woke up just as I squirted, I didn't squirt a lot but it all went on Pablo's back. I was horrified to realize I'd been humping him also.

Pablo came to with a roar. I could tell he was still drunk and not thinking clearly. But he was royally pissed. I'd never seen him that mad.

"What the f**k are you doing you little faggot?" He roared at me.

I backed away from him trying to stammer out an apology. Before I could get anything out he hit me hard. Then the blows really started coming. He was beating me and holding nothing back. I tried to get away but ended up in the corner where he slammed me over and over. I collapsed to the floor and the kicking started. I was struggling to stay conscious. The blows stopped as quickly as they had started. Dad had him in a bear hug pulling him off me. I remember him yelling something about my not being worth it, that I was worth more alive than dead. I didn't really understand what was going on.

I wasn't just hurt. I was hurt bad. I was having trouble breathing. I couldn't see out of my left eye and I could taste the blood in my mouth. Blackness threatened to overtake me as I struggled to get to my feet. When I was finally standing I stumbled out the door and staggered down the street as quickly as I could. It was freezing I was barefoot and in my underwear. I don't remember anything that happened during my flight from home. I repeatedly blanked out but somehow, my feet knew where to go.

I stopped and realized I was at Sean's house. They would help me I thought. I tried to knock on the door but couldn't seem to make more than a weak tapping. I remembered the spare key and searched for it. I fumbled with it. I couldn't seem to make it fit in the key hole. I knew I was losing the battle as much as I knew I needed to get inside. I tried to fight the blackness but I lost. The last thing I remember was the door opening as I fell to the ground.

Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.

Copyright Notice - Copyright ©2005 by yaalc.

This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form, physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise without the authors expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.

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Sebastian: chapter 8

The trip home went smoothly. And except for the travel time, was enjoyable. It took us fourteen hours by bus to get to Buenos Aires, and another 14 hours by plane to get home. It was great to see mom again and we spent a lot of time as a family. It was weird up until then, we’d never been very close, but suddenly every moment together was special. I got registered for school and picked up all the homework I’d need for the next 2 months. It seemed like I’d just gotten off the plane when it was time to get back on. Another 28 hours later we got home. It was 11:00 pm when I finally dropped into bed. I didn’t even bother to get undressed.

I awoke with a start, trying to get my bearings. My clock read 4:00 and I wondered if it was am or pm. Then I heard the scratching. It must have been what woke me up. Someone was trying to get in the house. I got up and went to the front door as noiselessly as possible. I trembled as I looked out the peep hole. I was scared of what I would see. But there was nothing there. I eased the bolt back and cracked the door open ready to slam it shut if the situation warranted.

I recognized the lump lying on the porch as human but not much else. There was blood everywhere. It lay there clad only in underwear. The brutality that had been unleashed on this person was horrific and I felt my stomach clench. I was going to be sick. I jumped over the body and threw myself on the lawn where I proceeded to expel everything I’d eaten that day. On hands and knees I looked back at the figure. Oh s**t. It’s Seba.

“DAD!” I screamed “I NEED HELP OUT HERE!”

The world was spinning and I was close to passing out. But I dragged myself over to Seba’s body. I could make out his chest rising. I didn’t think it was happening enough. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t dare touch him afraid of making things worse. Dad burst out the door in his underwear.

“Oh my god.” He breathed.

“Dad its Seba!”

“Holy s**t! What did they do?”

I knew then how much this affected my dad. I’d never heard him swear before.

“Sean! Get up and call for an ambulance. Make sure you call the private clinic not the public hospital. Good call dad the public hospital here scared me. I’d gone in once to use the bathroom and was so horrified at what I’d seen I turned and ran. I barely made it home to pee.

I called the clinic and they told me they’d send someone immediately. I went back out to see what I could do. Dad had straightened Seba out and was kneeling at the top of his head holding it carefully in line with the rest of his body.

“Run and get a blanket then some warm wet washcloths.”

I hurried back inside grabbed the blankets off my bed and took them out and placed them as gently as I could over his body. I got the washcloths and at dads insistence I started cleaning off his face. The damage was horrifying. Both his eyes were swollen shut. When I touched his nose he flinched. I was sure it was broken. His left ear was cut so deeply that it looked like it would fall off. I couldn’t believe that someone could do this to another human being.

The ambulance arrived a short time later. They came up the stairs and stopped dead. I don’t think that even they could believe what had been done to Seba. One of them shook his head like he was clearing it of a bad thought. They moved forward and with extreme care packaged him for transport. Dad ran inside to get dressed and hurried out just in time to get in the ambulance with them.

“Sean. I’m going with them. There’s nothing you can do now. Get cleaned up and get some sleep. When you wake up you can come to the clinic to see how he’s doing.”

I nodded ok. And then they were gone. I looked down at myself. My clothes were streaked with blood. I finally tasted the bile in my mouth and lost it again right there before I could even bend over. Vomit ran down my chin and soaked into the blood stained clothes. The smell coming off of me was making me even more nauseous. I stripped down to my shorts right there. I was so numb I couldn’t even feel the cold.

I went inside and climbed into the shower. I scrubbed and scrubbed until there wasn’t any warm water left. I could still feel the vomit on me though. I went in my room and dug some shorts out of a drawer. I found a spare blanket and threw myself onto the bed. Sleep never came. I lay there watching the minutes tick by on the clock. I didn’t really believe in prayer. I still felt god hated me. But that night I prayed. And somewhere along the way I fell into a restless sleep.

I woke up two hours later, groggy and sick to my stomach. I ran to the bathroom and threw up again. After the last heave released me I pulled myself up to find some antacid.

I lay down until my stomach settled down then got up to get some water. Five minutes later it hadn’t come back up so I decided I was ready to go to the hospital. I walked as fast as I dared. I knew if I went too fast I’d be heaving again. Twenty minutes later I walked into the clinic.

I looked around and saw dad slumped in a chair. The look he gave me told me things weren’t good. I stumbled into a chair next to him.

“Sean, his wounds aren’t as bad as they look. The worst things are some broken ribs, a bruised liver, and they think one of his kidneys is damaged. But due to the years of malnutrition he suffered his body isn’t going to be able to heal as readily as you or I would. His body has actually shut down anything that’s not necessary for survival, he’s in a coma. And I’m not going to lie to you. The doctor is giving him a 40% chance of survival. They are doing everything they can to help his body overcome this. He’s receiving antibiotics, and vitamin and nutrition supplements. But in the long run it’s going to be him that determines his survival. I pray that he’s strong enough.”

My mind went numb. 40% chance of survival. There was a greater chance that he’d die than survive. Thoughts of him ran through my head. The impish grin I loved. The way his eyes shone when I gave him a coke. The wonderful laugh he had. The conversations we’d had. And the ribbing we gave each other while playing video games. It wasn’t fair. He’d already been through so much. I knew why god hated me but why did he hate Seba?


I looked at my dad. Tears ran down my face. My throat felt like it was closing off and I wasn’t getting enough to breathe. I threw myself into dad’s arms and sobbed.

“The police were called in this morning.” He choked out. “His brother was arrested. I called one of my bosses who has a lot of influence here. I’ve already got a restraining order against his family and temporary guardianship. He will be coming home with us if he wakes up.”

I couldn’t miss that dad had said “if” and I cried that much harder. A long time passed before I could compose myself. I pulled away and saw that dad’s eyes were red and swollen he’d been crying also. And his shirt where my head had been was soaked through. I felt bad for breaking down like that.

“When can I see him?”

“As soon as you feel like you can do it. He doesn’t look as bad as you think. He’s breathing on his own, they only have one IV going into him and most of his head is bandaged.

“I think I’d like to see him then.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I shook my head no.

“Ok son, I need to go home and get cleaned up. Maybe take a nap. Will you be ok here by yourself?”

I nodded knowing that he was giving me some time to be alone with my friend. He pointed me to his room then told me he’d come get me later on. I walked down the hall to Seba’s room. They had the blinds down and it was dark. I could barely make him out. I felt bad but I was glad I couldn’t see him. I pulled a chair up to his bed, took his hand in mine and talked to him until dad came and got me.

Seba beat the odds the doctor had given him and four days later he opened his eyes. He came home with us the next day. Dad arranged to have a nurse come by to check on him twice a day and gave me permission to stay with him for a week. I still had to do my studying for the American school but I could forgo School here. Ricky came by after school almost every day. I think he grew to like Seba as much as we did. We brought the TV into my room and played video games for hours.

The school arrangement worked fine for me. I could be company for Seba while I studied. He wasn’t really up to doing much anyway and spent a lot of time asleep. The doctor told us that his recovery would take longer because of the malnutrition but to be patient. It appeared that he would recover fully.

Dad put a bed for him in my room. The first night back I woke to hear him tossing and turning. He kept muttering “stop, stop, please stop” I got up and climbed into bed with him. Holding him close to me I whispered in his ear. I told him he was safe. I told him he’d never have to go back to them. And I told him how much we loved him. He stopped thrashing and in short order had fallen into a deep peaceful sleep.

I slept with him every night from then on. Dad told me that Seba had probably been deprived of love and touching. And it was ok with him for me to provide it for him. The weeks passed. Summer was on its way and it was getting hot at night.

One day in late October I made a huge mistake. Dad had promised to get me a fan the next day to help cool us off at night but that night I would just have to endure. I woke up really early, the clock said four. The mattress and pillow under me were hot. Seba’s body next to mine was too hot. I didn’t want to move away though. I knew he needed the touch and I enjoyed the feel of him against me. We were both in our shorts. A thin sheet covered us.

I’ll never know what possessed me. I was watching Seba sleep. He looked so peaceful. A small smile played on his lips. At that moment it struck me just how deeply I’d fallen for him. I started caressing his chest, then down to his stomach and finally my hand was in his shorts and on his hardness. Oh God. What was I doing? I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t stop. It felt so right in my hand.

His breathing caught and I jerked my eyes upward. His eyes were open and staring at me, a look of horror on his face.

“Sean?” he whispered “Are you a fag?”

I ripped my hand away from him, threw myself out of bed and huddled in the corner. I couldn’t keep my eyes off his face. My lack of response seemed to confirm his fears. The changes his face went through seemed to take forever. The horror followed by realization then rage. I’d never seen him so mad. Tears sprang to my eyes I tried to say I was sorry but nothing came.

“Holy f**k I’ve been sleeping with a queer! What the f**k did you think you were doing? My God a f****** fag. Oh s**t I’m going to be sick. Stay the f**k away from me you perv.”

He threw some clothes on and left. The slamming of the front door broke the floodgates and I cried. I couldn’t believe what I’d done. And now he’s gone.

Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.

Copyright Notice - Copyright ©2005 by yaalc.

This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form, physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise without the authors expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.

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Authors note: I’ve made a huge attempt up till now to avoid changing the character point of view mid chapter. Unfortunately that will change in this one. A lot is going to be happening. And the point of view will change several times. I’ll make every effort to make the point of view changes smooth and I’ll try to avoid confusing anyone.

Sebastian: chapter 9

I slid to the floor. The sobbing switched to a high pitched keening. I had killed our friendship. I never saw dad come in but I was suddenly in his arms. I couldn’t stop crying. Dad kept asking me what had happened but I couldn’t get any words out.


His yelling snapped me out of it. I knew he was going to find out what had happened. I knew he was going to hate me. But still I told him everything. By the time I’d finished the crying had abated. I hung my head and begged him not to hate me.

“So you’re gay? That’s nothing I didn’t know already.”

I looked at him in shock. How did he know?

“Listen Sean you and I are going to have a long talk later. But right now your friend is out there running away. He has nowhere to go and he’s still sick. We need to find him before he does something stupid. And god forbid he goes back to his family.”

Dad was right as always. I was stunned with his revelation. But Seba needed to come first. Dad went to get dressed and I threw some clothes on.

I slammed the front door as I burst out running. I couldn’t believe what Sean had done. I felt sick. I ran until I fell over. I hadn’t gotten very far I was still really weak. I laid there with a million thoughts going through my head. What had I done to deserve this? Why had it happened now just when things were getting better? Does god hate me that much? And the big question where do I go now?

f**k there was no where else. I was going to have to go back. I wouldn’t survive on my own. I put up with “those people” and their smacking me around. I would just have to put up with Sean touching me. s**t what if he wants more? What if he wants to blow me? What if he wants me to touch him? Okay if he wants to do things to me Ill close my eyes and pretend it’s someone else. He will just have to accept that I won’t do anything to him. My mind made up I got up and walked back to their house.

I reached out but the door was pulled open before I could touch it. Sean was there he took one look at me and his face went pale. He hung his head, turned and walked away. Pedro was there though. He opened his arms and I rushed into them. He held me close while I cried. I didn’t want to admit it but being out there and not knowing where to go had scared me to death.

When I’d cried myself out he sat me up, reached out and tilted my head so I was looking him in the eyes.

“Seba what I’m going to tell you now is very important and I need you to really listen and understand it. Okay?

I nodded my understanding but scared of what he was going to say. I almost held my breath as he started talking.

“I know you’re mad at Sean right now but I need you to know how much you mean to him. To us. Your friendship means so much to Sean. I haven’t seen him so happy in a long, long time. And I can’t repay you for that. I need you to know that I’m not going to let you leave. This is your house now. I know its going to be awkward and we will have to make some adjustments. But you are not leaving. Do you understand me?”

I nodded my understanding and broke into tears again. He held me for a long time. I was about cried out. A yawn escaped me and I realized how tired I was. My fear of facing Sean and sleeping in our room must have been apparent on my face. He picked me up like I was a child and took me to his room.

“You can sleep in here for awhile. We will work out other arrangements later on.”

I thanked him and fell into a deep sleep.

When I opened the door and saw Seba standing there I was shocked. Then the humiliation and shame kicked in. I couldn’t look him in the face. I went to our room and closed the door. I fell asleep crying.

A long time later I woke up to a knock on the door. Dad poked his head in and asked me if I was ready to talk. I knew there was no getting out of it. It was time to face the music. I got up and followed him out to the living room.

“Sit down” he said indicating a chair.

“I’m very disappointed in you.” And with those words he devastated me.

“But I can see how it happened. I’m not going to punish you. I think you will punish yourself far more than I ever could. What happens between you and Seba now I’ll leave for you two to work out. I told him he was staying here. No options. He needs a place to live and he needs love. He will get both here.”

“Now I have some explaining to do, and I need to apologize to you.”

“Apologize to me?” I whispered. “I’m the one that screwed up.”

“The apology is not about that. Do you remember the sleep over you went on with Russ?”

Remember? How could I forget, that was the day my whole life went to s**t. I thought to myself.

I nodded.

“Well the day after Russ’ mom called us. She told us that Russ was a bit bothered by the way you had looked at him. And she thought we should know. You were only 8 and not near ready to talk about anything like that. We talked to a counselor and he told us to wait, that you would find a way to let us know when you were ready to talk about it. I didn’t expect it to be like this but since it happened here we go. You need to know that your mother and I love you very much. We don’t care if you’re gay or not. You mean so much to us and we would never let something as trivial as who you loved change that. Do you understand?”

I nodded yes.

“Dad?” I squeaked out.


“I don’t want to go to hell.”

Dad was floored. I could see that wasn’t something he expected. He sat there for a few minutes, ran his hand through his hair, and stared at the floor.

“How could we have been so stupid? How did we miss that?” he whispered

“Miss what dad?”

“The religious aspect of all this. Damn.”

“Son, I believe in God. But I don’t really believe in religion. I haven’t found any church that truly follows Christ’s example. But at the same time I feel obligated to show God that I’m willing to take time out of my life for him. I go to our church because that’s the church I grew up in. It’s the one I’m comfortable with. I never thought about how their teachings would affect you. You must feel like God doesn’t love you, right?

I nodded tears starting to spill again.

Dad moved his chair next to mine and pulled me into his arms and onto his lap.

“Sean, God is love. He would never hate you for any reason. He made you just as you are and he loves you. You aren’t going to hell.

His words left me stunned. He was right. I’d never looked at it that way. He held me on his lap as I cried tears of relief.

When I was done crying dad told me we had some work to do. Our house had three rooms. Mine, his and one we’d made into an office. We moved everything out of the office and put it in one of the living room corners. Then we moved Seba’s bed, dresser and all the clothes we’d gotten him, into the other room.

For the next seven months time played tricks on me. The days were excruciatingly long but the weeks flew by. It was really hard to see Sean every day. I got over what happened in short order. I apologized to him for what I’d said. But he had changed. He would never look me in the eye. And the times I did see his eyes ripped my heart out. The spark that had been there was gone. They were lifeless.

Pedro was awesome, within a short time he had found an electrician that would take me on as an apprentice with one condition. I had to go back to school and finish. It was nice having a job to go to again. It kept me out of the house.

Sean and I couldn’t seem to reconcile. Every time I entered a room he would leave. I couldn’t stand to see him so devastated and started doing the same thing. We always ate dinner as a family but that was the only time we were ever in the same room. While I spent my time working, he spent his with Ricky and their friends. I would see him occasionally walking down the street with his friends. He would never see me because I was inside working. He laughed and joked with his friends but I could see his eyes. The spark never returned.

As for me, the first night I slept in my new room the nightmares returned. They got so bad I was barely sleeping and I knew I was going to be in trouble at work if things didn’t change. I started drinking. I kept it as hidden as much as possible and I think only Sean realized what I was doing. He never said anything. The alcohol helped me sleep. It was never a good sleep. But it was enough to keep me out of trouble at work.

We all kept busy during the week. But Saturday was reserved for family. Pedro took us somewhere every Saturday. We visited some Jesuit ruins. We went to Paraguay and Brazil. My favorite trip was to Iguazu Fall’s. They are one of the seven natural wonders of the world for a good reason. Although we enjoyed those Saturday’s there was always a cloud hanging over us and they were never as good as they should have been.

Every couple of months Sean and Pedro would go back to the United States. Those weeks were the worst for me. I hated being alone and I drank a lot when they were gone. They were gone for Christmas but they both got me a gift.

Before I knew it we were in April, four more weeks and they would be leaving for good. Pedro was incredible he managed to arrange it so I would be able to live in the house when they were gone. I learned later that it was already paid for. They were going to leave me everything. The beds, the TV, the furniture, the computer, and everything else. I was overwhelmed with how much Pedro had taken me in. He also promised the judge that he would make sure I was taken care of until my 21st birthday so that I’d never have to go back to them. By then I would be out of school and no longer just an apprentice. And he kept his word. He deposited money in an account for me every month. It wasn’t excessive but I could live on it.

Finally the dreaded day arrived. They were leaving. I had tried all week to get Sean to talk to me but it was fruitless. He spent as much time as possible away from home. I didn’t want to get out of bed that morning but I knew I had to say goodbye. I went with them to the bus station. And then it was time. I was choked up so bad I couldn’t talk. I wanted to give Sean a hug that would show him how much I cared about him but as soon as our hands touched the others back he was pulling away. He didn’t look at me as he got on the bus.

Pedro held me for a long time. He leaned down and whispered.

“He hasn’t forgiven himself yet. Give him some time.”

He got on the bus and they were gone. I couldn’t breathe. I watched the bus until it disappeared, tears streaming down my face. As it turned the corner to leave my sight the words I’d wanted to say were screaming through my head.

Thank you for everything Sean. I owe you my life. I love you more than you will ever know.

Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.

Copyright Notice - Copyright ©2005 by yaalc.

This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form, physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise without the authors expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.

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Sebastian: chapter 10

The next three years passed by much like those last seven months. The days were excruciatingly long and the months flew by. Beer wasn’t doing it for me anymore and I’d switched to vodka. I was drinking a fifth a day and it was barely allowing me to get enough sleep to hold things together.

The month’s right after Sean’s departure were the worst. When the alcohol had worn off and the nightmares had woken me up, I had a lot of time to do some serious reflecting. The issue of my sexuality had never come up before. The first 14 years of my life were spent trying to get enough to eat and avoiding the beatings. Survival was the most important thing. And when everything happened with Sean I was more concerned with getting my friend back than anything else.

I tried to remember what I’d fantasized about when I’d masturbated before I met Sean. I couldn’t remember anything. It was like the feelings that I got with my hand gliding up and down were more than enough to get me where I wanted to be. At one point some guys from school planned a trip down to a brothel about 40 miles away. I convinced them to let me go even though I was way too young. Somehow I got in. I loved kissing the woman that I had chosen. And I even enjoyed playing with her breasts. But when it came down to “the” moment. The little guy wouldn’t cooperate. I managed to convince everyone that I’d had a great time. I went home more confused than ever. I met a lot of people at school and at work. There wasn’t anyone male or female that did anything for me.

The realization that scared me the most had to do with the nightmares. At some point I realized that the only time I didn’t have them, since that last beating, was when Sean had his arm around me. I needed to get more sleep. Good sleep, not just the passed out drunk sleep.

I avoided looking in the mirror. What I saw there was frightening. I looked horrible. I’d let my hair grow and mostly just let it fall where ever it fell. My eyes had dark circles around them and my cheeks were sunken. More and more, my meals were becoming liquid ones.

I finally reached my eighteenth birthday and for a change I was excited. I felt that I was always worried about “them” finding a way to get to me. But now I’d be eighteen and I wouldn’t have to worry anymore. I celebrated it alone and without alcohol. I went to bed and woke up not long after soaked in sweat and terrified. It wasn’t going to go away.

I kept in constant email communication with Pedro. I told him how well I was doing and he told me how well Sean was doing. We were both lying and we both knew it. All of this led to one cold winter day. I went to work that morning and we finished up early and wouldn’t be back that afternoon. I didn’t have classes that day either so I went home for lunch. That was a rare occasion and I hoped I had some vodka waiting for me. I planned on trying to sleep the siesta away.

The fog had settled in for the day it seemed. The moisture in the air left me damp. As I crossed the street approaching the house a figure materialized in the fog. He just stood there looking at the house. Feeling a bit nervous I approached him from behind. My breath caught.


He whirled around to face me. His eyes were still dead and showed confusion. It took a moment for him to recognize me. His face went pale and he turned to hurry off. I ran after him. I grabbed his arm and forced him to look at me. My mind went blank. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him. We stood there quietly. Me trying to say something. And Sean looking at the ground. His stomach growled. The memory of a day long ago made me smile.

˝¿Tu hambre? ˝ I asked.

He shook his head no, but a second grumble belied him. I pulled him toward the house. He resisted at first but then allowed himself to be pulled into the house. I pushed him into the chair farthest from the door. I had empanadas that I’d bought the night before but hadn’t eaten. I made us each a plate and sat down between him and the door and indicated he should eat. I remembered the cokes and poured us each a glass. Coke had lost its magic for me after Sean and I had fallen out. And I rarely drank it. Sitting there with Sean again brought back all the good memories and suddenly the coke tasted wonderful again.

We finished eating. He sat there looking at the table and I knew I was losing him again.

“Sean” I whispered “why can’t you let this go.”

He shrugged and continued to look at the table.

“Sean, you know I forgot about what happened a long time ago. And I hope you know how sorry I am for the words I said. I really hate how things are. Please forgive yourself.” The last part came out as a desperate plea.

“I can’t” he choked out. “I won’t ever forget what I destroyed that day.”

My heart was breaking. I couldn’t let him go. Not like this. Not again. I searched desperately for something I could say or do to fix this.

“I don’t have to go back to work or school today. Can you stay for awhile?”

“I don’t….. I don’t think I can.” Was his whispered reply.

“Sean” desperation now evident in my voice “I can’t make you forgive yourself. But I can tell you how much I need you. So if you need to leave. If you cant forgive yourself. Fine. But if you ever cared about me please do me one favor. I haven’t been the same since that night. The nightmares came back. I feel like I haven’t slept since that night. And I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to continue like this. I don’t remember what it feels like to sleep well. I need to take a nap. I need to sleep. Would you please hold me one last time so I can sleep. Even for just for a few hours?”

He finally looked at me, tears streaming down his face. He held my gaze for a long minute, and then nodded. The relief overwhelmed me and I realized just how much I needed the sleep. He followed me back to my room. I stripped to my shorts but he only took his shoes off. I didn’t care. I climbed into bed and reluctantly so did he. I had to pull his arm over me but I didn’t mind, he was there. Five minutes later I was sound asleep.

I awoke with a start. It was dark out. I had slept all afternoon. Sean must have been tired. He’d taken his clothes off and was sleeping next to me. His arm was still over me but his body was as far away as he could keep it. I lay there watching him sleep. He looked peaceful. The troubled expression was gone. I knew I had missed him but seeing him like that brought a new realization of just how much. I still didn’t know if I was gay or straight. But I did know I loved Sean. And then it hit me what I needed to do.

I reached towards him as slowly as I could. I carefully eased my hand into his shorts and for the first time held another man in my hand. I wish I could say there was a jolt of electricity or fireworks going off in my head but I can’t. What I did feel was a sense of belonging. My hand belonged there.

Sean’s eyes sprang open and his mouth moved like he was trying to say something. I reached out with a finger on my other hand and shushed him.

“Now we’re even.”

He eyes locked on mine. He was searching for something. At long last he spoke.

“I need to go” he whispered.

Tears sprang to my eyes. I’d gambled everything and lost. I closed my eyes and tried to hold back the flood.

I felt him punch me lightly on the shoulder.

“No you dork. I have to ‘go.’’

Understanding hit me. It was over.

“Seba” he said gently “can you let go so I can go pee?”

I shook my head no. And an impish grin crossed my face. The corners of his mouth twitched. And I saw a brief spark in his eyes. I crawled over him, got out of bed and led him to the bathroom. He was going to have to pee with me holding him. I wasn’t about to let go. His stream hitting the bowl brought the need to go to me. I pulled my shorts down, Reached for his hand and put it on me. Looking at him I saw a genuine smile. And the sparks were back in his eyes.

When we had finished I led him back to the bedroom, never releasing him. By the next morning I knew he wasn’t going anywhere without me ever again.

Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please email me at yaalc@yahoo.com.

Copyright Notice - Copyright ©2005 by yaalc.

This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form, physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise without the authors expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.

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