Subjects: Secrets Uncovered - Chapter 14
Warning: The following story has homosexual content. If you are offended or made uncomfortable by material concerning sexual relations between consenting young men, then don't read. If it is in any way illegal for you to be reading this, then don't. Otherwise please continue reading.
I sat uncomfortably in Ricky's room as he spoke with his mom down in the kitchen. Peaking over the banister, I couldn't make out what they were saying - all I could hear were the soft undertones of their mumbling. Ricky finally came out of the kitchen. He walked up the stairs with a smile on his face. It looked forced.
"You can stay," he said. "For as long as you need."
I was at a loss for words; everything that had happened this morning was still not yet absorbed, and I had to sit down and think about the things I had said, and how I had to go about approaching my dad and coming back home. Even though I was furious at him, I knew that eventually it would blow over and I'd return home. It always happened like that, whenever I fought with him.
We both sat down on Ricky's bed.
"God I hate him!" I hissed through gritted teeth.
"Jase, you know that's not true. You're just angry."
"It's not that, Rick. I just wish he was more understanding. Sometimes he is just so closed-minded that I can't handle it."
"Put yourself in his position, Jase." he said. "It's the same with all fathers - all they want is for their boys to grow up and get married and have kids. It's the whole picture perfect scene that is painted for almost all men. And it really doesn't make coming out to anyone any easier."
He kept quiet for a while.
"All I'm saying is that it's a big bomb you just dropped on him. And the way he found out - that wasn't exactly ideal either."
"So you're siding with him now?" I asked him, accusingly.
"No," he said, firmly. "I'm just trying to get you to see his perspective. You're his only boy and it's a natural reaction for this to happen. Believe me, I know."
I didn't know if I should push him to continue. He never spoke of his dad, apart from a few simple things. His parents had divorced about two years ago.
"I came out to my dad when he was fighting with my mom, while they were getting divorced. I can't remember what my parents were fighting about - but I do remember that, as usual, my dad came upstairs to my room to take it out on me. Sometimes he would hit me - but usually it was just verbal.
"One night he was drunk as shit, and he came upstairs again to scream at me."
He closed his eyes.
"What the hell are you doing!" he screamed at me.
"What are you talking about, dad? I'm not doing anything," I pleaded.
"Exactly! You never do anything around here, Ricky! Why don't you get off your lazy fucking ass and do something around the house?!"
"What would you like me to do?!" I screamed straight back at him, the tears streaming down my face. His eyes widened, he took two giant steps toward my bed and grabbed me by my arm, throwing me to the floor. He placed his foot on the back of my head, pressing me into the wooden floor.
"Oh, I don't know," he hissed at me. "How about cleaning the floor?"
"What?!"
"Lick it! Lick it clean you piece of shit!"
"Dad please!"
"Do it!"
He opened his eyes and a single tear rolled down his cheek, landing on his lip. I silently wiped it away, and waited for him to continue.
"No, Dad, please, I don't want to!" I begged him.
"You filthy little boy!" he took his foot off my head. "Get up!"
I stumbled to my feet.
"You do as I say!" he commanded, taking a wild swing at me with his right hand. I saw it coming, so on instinct I lifted my left arm up, blocking his, and countered with a hard right into his stomach. I heard the wind leave his body as he doubled over and fell to the floor in a foetal position.
"Fuck you!" I screamed at him. I calmly started walking out of my room.
"Wh-Where are you going..?" he asked, snickering. "To your boyfriend?!"
I stopped dead in my tracks. How did he know? How long had he known? Was that the reason he used to beat me?
I turned around and saw him smiling evilly at me on the ground. I took a few quick steps toward him, landing a hard kick accross his face, and then another in his stomach. Then I turned and walked down the stairs into the welcome arms of my mother. Her face was full of bruises. She embraced me, and then almost immediately ran down to the basement. She came up carrying two large suitcases under each arm.
"We're leaving," she said, triumphantly.
I waited for him to carry on speaking.
"After we stayed in a hotel room for a few nights, mom found us a small place to stay. We moved into a flat, stayed there for about two months, and then mom found this house, here."
"And your dad?" I asked.
"Haven't heard from him since that night," he said, calmly.
"Rick..." I said.
"You don't need to say anything. All I'm trying to get accross to you is that your father really does love you, and all you need to do is give him some time to cool off and come to terms with you. Don't say that you hate him - because it really is just anger you're feeling. I don't wanna sit here and preach about how lucky you are to still have a father in your life and all that crap - because I think you know how lucky you are. It's not an easy thing for fathers to accept - but he will."
He paused for a second, and then smiled at me. "Until that time though, you stay right here."
I spent the rest of the day settling down, and talking with Ricky. Occasionally his mom came up to check on us, and ask me if I was okay. I thanked her for her kindness and her willingness to allow me to stay with them.
"I know how special you are to Ricky," she said. Ricky went crimson. "You can stay here for as long as you want."
"Thank you, Mrs Becker. You don't know how much this means to me."
"Oh please," she said. "I'm sure I've told you before. Call me Barbara. You're practically family." She smiled, and turned around, closing Ricky's door on her way out.
I looked at Ricky. He shrugged and rolled his eyes, flopping back on his bed. I was amazed at how much she and Ricky had calmed me down, and reassured me.
"That's my mom," he said.
"She's awesome." I paused. "I take it she knows about you."
"Yip," he said, simply. Then, smiling, "And you too."
"She knows about me?" I asked, repeating the obvious.
"Yip," he answered again.
"And she knows what I am to you?"
"Yip," once again.
"Stop with this 'Yip'!" I commanded, jumping on top of him, pulling up his shirt and growling playfully. I attacked him with my fingers on his sides.
"Ahaha," he laughed. "Stop it! Stop it! I can't take it!" He did some sort of wrestling manoeuvre, and I wound up underneath him. His face was less than an inch from mine. He stopped laughing.
"I love you," he said. "Always remember that."
"I love you too," I said, closing the gap between us and sealing it with a kiss. Cheesy, I know, but it describes the moment perfectly.
"Ahem," came a voice from the door.
"Mom!" Ricky shouted, pulling away and jumping off of me.
"You boys hungry?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah, sure," Ricky said. And once again, his mom disappeared with a smile. I looked at Ricky and shoved him off the side of the bed. He fell to the floor with and landed with a thud and an "Oomph!"
"What wassat for..?!" he demanded, his head peering up over the side of the bed.
"Cos you so cute!" I pouted back at him. He flashed me his million dollar smile, and we both got up to go downstairs and get some food.
"What's for lunch, mom?" Ricky asked, without even noticing the table already laid out. On it were several different types of salads, cold meats, pickles, garnishes and sauces.
"Oh...just something I whipped up with these magic hands," she answered, lifting her hands up.
"Mrs Bec...Barbara, you really didn't have to go to all this trouble," I said, being the polite young man that I am.
"Please Jase, it's nothing. You two are growing, young men, and you need your strength." I smiled at the way she emphasised 'growing' and 'young men'. It was so nice feeling this relaxed at a place that I felt would soon become like a second home.
Ricky and I had tucked into a few home-made sandwiches, topped with all the salads and sauces and everything else we could pile onto them. Mid-meal, however, the bell for the gate rang.
"I'll get it," Barbara said, jumping to her feet. As soon as she was out the room, I looked at Ricky. He had mustard all over his face. He was such a messy eater.
"That looks wonderful," I teased him.
"Thanks!" he smiled broadly, showing me half his lunch stuck in between his teeth, and the spectrum of colours the sauces he had eaten had made in his mouth.
"Ugh," I uttered, handing him a napkin. "Please - go clean yourself up." He gave me a playfully scornful stare, and got up to go to the bathroom. Just then Barbara came back into the room.
"Uh, Jase," she said.
"Yep?"
"It's for you."
"The door?" I asked, confused. Just then, the front door opened, and my father walked in. His face was flushed, and he was out of breath. I wasn't sure if he had done some exercise or something, or if it was just from anger. Beads of sweat were running down his forehead.
"Jason," he started, teeth and fist clenched, "You're coming home right now!"
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Satori.