Go West Young Man Read online

  Copyright

  Published by

  Harmony Ink Press

  5032 Capital Circle SW

  Ste 2, PMB# 279

  Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886

  USA

  [email protected]

  http://harmonyinkpress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Go West, Young Man

  Copyright © 2012 by Robbie Michaels

  Cover Art by Anne Cain

  [email protected]

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Harmony Ink Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Ste 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA.

  [email protected]

  ISBN: 978-1-61372-715-7

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Edition

  August 2012

  eBook edition available

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-716-4

  Chapter 1

  Bill’s First Birthday

  MY NAME is Mark and this is my story. Actually, it’s really the story of me and my boyfriend, Bill. If you saw the man, you’d probably react the way I do every time he walks into the room—that is, you’d look up and drool in lust. The man, in addition to being a smart, sweet guy, is hotter than any single man has any right to be.

  After all this time, whenever I see the man, with his head of jet-black hair, his tanned skin, his sleek athlete’s body, the twinkle in his eye, it just makes my heart pick up the pace and beat a little bit faster. He’s not a tall man, but neither am I. I see myself as a basic, average guy in most ways, including height. Bill is about the same height as me, maybe an inch or two taller.

  Our story isn’t really complicated, I guess, but maybe I see it that way because it’s what I live every day. People have said that our story is unique and should be told, so that’s what I’m trying to do. The way I see it, our lives are pretty basic. I’m an undergraduate student at UCLA, and Bill would be too, if so many things hadn’t gone to hell in his life over the previous few months. He will be a student there again very soon, I hope, which will get his life back on track. This book will catch you up on everything that’s been happening in our lives lately.

  Our lives have been a bit of a roller coaster for some time now. First we were getting by, then things were good, then they were great. And then they were not so good. And then life just sucked. And you’re probably thinking, well, kid, that’s life. And you’re wondering why you’re reading this book, since you live the same thing already and people read to escape the routine and the stress of their lives. In other words, to be entertained. At least that’s why I read. I hope my story will entertain you, at a minimum.

  We’re both from New York State—upstate New York—up where there are as many cows as there are people. Upstate where it gets cold in the winter. I mean really, really cold. But those days are in the past. We now live in southern California, where the weather is better but life has had just as many challenges as in New York.

  Back in New York, I lived a basic, ordinary life in a basic, ordinary family. My mission in life there was to keep my head down and not draw a lot of attention to myself. You see, I’m gay—have been since birth, or at least since my very first memories. I’ve always been gay. There was no question in my mind. No debate. It just was.

  And I knew that most folks were not gay, which made me special. And as a special person, I knew that others could be very jealous of my specialness and that I had to keep it to myself. So I played a turtle in real life, keeping myself low to the ground, tucking myself inside my shell to keep safe from predators around that wanted to do me harm.

  Bill, on the other hand, was completely the opposite. He’s similar to me in height and size, but in everything else he’s opposite. He’s athletic—he was a jock. He’s outgoing. He’s gregarious. He’s one of the guys. He was always popular. In fact, he was said by many to be the most popular guy in our high school.

  When Bill came to live with us, we learned a lot about him. Some of what we learned was interesting, but not all of it was. When my mom and I first heard that Bill had never had a birthday party or even a birthday cake, it was a toss-up over which of us was more shocked. Neither of us could imagine a family in which a birthday wasn’t celebrated. I couldn’t remember any birthday in my life that hadn’t included a cake and presents, sometimes even a party and a special dinner out.

  Even if the cake was homemade and tilted precariously to one side, even if it had big gaps in the frosting, even if there were cake crumbs in the frosting, everyone should at least have a cake for their birthdays. Even if birthday presents aren’t an option, for one reason or another, every birthday can and should have a birthday cake! That’s just all there is to it! If I had a rule book, that would be one of the rules I would write in that book.

  So it didn’t take a lot of discussion for us to decide that we needed to fix this serious problem as quickly as possible. Once Bill came to live with us rather than just visit periodically, my mom and I immediately decided to plan a birthday party, at least among us. It would be, after all, Bill’s first birthday. I really didn’t have a clue when his actual birthday was.

  Grabbing moments when we could, my mom and I put together an invitation list, and she started to work out a menu. She planned to do some food, but the biggest thing, we both agreed, was to have a huge, over-the-top birthday cake. She called a friend of hers who baked cakes and got her to work on the centerpiece of the festivities.

  And so began the most unlikely party ever planned in the history of the world. I, super-geek, was hosting a surprise birthday party for a jock, to be attended by all of the jocks. Oh, this had vast potential for being uncomfortable. I was going to have to give this some serious thought, to see how best to play this event to do the least harm to Bill and his reputation.

  From listening to Bill talk, I pretty much knew who his jock friends were, so I was able to hand-deliver the invitations for the surprise party. And since I was dealing with guys I didn’t know, I made a point of emphasizing the fact that this was a surprise party, and that none of them should say anything to Bill.

  Somehow, everyone kept their mouth shut, so there was a good chance that Bill would actually be surprised. My mom had gotten space in the community room at the local fire station. The room could hold a couple hundred people, although we certainly didn’t anticipate having that many people attend.

  On the day of the party, she and my dad were busy getting the place set up and decorated. On the off chance that Bill’s popularity was going to attract a bigger turnout than we could handle, on the invitation she had asked people to bring food of some sort. That way if a lot of people showed up, at least they would come bearing food.

  On the actual day of the event, my job was simple—I was to keep Bill occupied and then to get him to the party precisely on schedule so that everyone could shout “Surprise!” The first part was no problem; I never had a hard time keeping Bill occupied. It was certainly not a burden for me to lie in bed, cuddling with him.

  As arranged, the phone rang at three o’clock exactly. It was my mother telling me that it was time. My job was then to get Bill to accompany me downtown under the ruse of taking something to my mother. She had left two big boxes in
the basement, so that I would have a viable ploy to use. I told him I needed to take the boxes to her right away and needed him to drive me.

  I had been filled with nightmares of him suddenly being stubborn and not wanting to go out or to drive me downtown, but fortunately none of those came to pass. We got the boxes and drove them down to the fire station. Taking one of the boxes, I had Bill grab the other, and we walked them into the building. The community room was certainly not ADA-compliant. To get into the space you had to climb a long flight of stairs. I had Bill go first. Whatever she had packed into the boxes certainly was heavy, so we were both struggling a little under the weight of our burdens.

  All was quiet in the room. The lights were off, and there was no sign of any activity. Apparently someone had been stationed at the windows to watch for our arrival and had cued the party guests to hide and keep their mouths shut. When Bill got to the top of the stairs first, I heard the room erupt into a huge chorus of “Surprise!” I still couldn’t see. Just from the sound of it there was a larger turnout than had been anticipated.

  Bill stopped in shock at the top of the stairs, which prevented me from going any higher to see anything. His mouth hung open, and he was frozen in place. I was afraid that I was going to drop my heavy box, so I nudged him to move on up out of the way. We both dropped our boxes as my mom came forward and grabbed Bill by the arm and dragged him into the center of the room.

  Now that I could see, I saw a huge crowd. Huge. Who were all of these people? I looked around and saw a lot of people that I recognized from school. All of the jocks were there en masse. These were his friends, so I hung back at the side of the room—this was Bill’s moment, this was his party. My mom led everyone in the singing of “Happy Birthday.” After singing, noisemakers went off all around the room, and some people threw confetti.

  My parents had been busy. The room was decorated with streamers, tons of balloons, confetti. And most of the guests had party hats and noisemakers—just what a birthday party should have.

  Finally, Bill was able to collect himself and said something. “But it’s not my birthday.”

  “You’ve never had a birthday party or a birthday cake or any kind of celebration for your birthday, so this is your first birthday party. We have some catching up to do, so this first one is a little off-cycle.”

  The crowd started congratulating Bill on his first birthday—that really was cute! A lot of people brought food as they were told, so there was a lot available for the attendees. As happens when you have a big potluck, there was some overlap and some duplication of food, but there were a lot of people who would eat it with no complaint.

  My mom guided Bill around the room, showing him the food along with a table of presents! I hadn’t thought about that, but when you go to a birthday party, what do you do? Duh, you take a present. Why hadn’t I thought about that? Maybe because I had never been invited to any birthday parties. There was one table that was absolutely covered with presents. I had no idea what people would buy for Bill, so I was quite curious to see what those many packages contained.

  My mom finally guided Bill to the centerpiece—a huge, and I mean huge, birthday cake. I had been to some weddings that had smaller cakes than this one. Whoever had made the cake had done an absolutely incredible job of decorating it. There were roses and flowers and scenes made of frosting that showed different sporting events that Bill had participated in over the years.

  The look on his face was one of sheer astonishment at the cake, just as it had been upon entering the room a few minutes earlier. But I guess if you’ve never had a birthday party or even a birthday cake before, you were entitled to a little bit of awe at your first one of each. I continued to hang back and let Bill and my mom check everything out.

  Since he was the birthday boy, she had him get some food first and then called for everyone else to help themselves if they wanted anything. I hung off to the side with my dad, enjoying the look of joy on Bill’s face whenever we caught a glimpse of him in the crowd of well-wishers. As anticipated, his jock buddies kept him surrounded and were having a boisterous good time.

  After everyone had had time to go through the line, get some food, and then eat said food, Mom got Bill positioned for the next big event—cutting the cake. As the birthday boy, she had him cut the first piece—to loud applause by everyone—and then she and a couple of friends took over and efficiently cut and served pieces of cake for everyone who wanted some. That process took a little while before we were ready to move on to the final part of the party—the opening of presents. I had never seen so many presents together in one place before in my life, and it appeared that neither had Bill. Never. Not on a birthday. Not on a Christmas morning. Not in a movie. Never. Ever.

  Bill simply looked. This was so far outside his comfort zone, he was simply frozen. My mom, being my mom, observed his behavior and was completely prepared for it. She put Bill into a chair at a table facing away from the presents but toward all of the partygoers. Since he was overwhelmed by the idea of so many presents, she selected one and placed it in front of him.

  With a huge smile on her face, she instructed him, “Go ahead. Open it up, birthday boy! Look at the tag to see who it’s from, and then open it up and see what you got!”

  Still a bit unsure, he checked the tag—I knew that she had handed him the present she and my dad had purchased for him. He started to gently and carefully pick at the paper. I don’t think the man had ever had a present before—of any sort! My God, what a life he must have had back at that house at the hand of his tyrant of a father.

  Growing impatient, his jock friends started to chant, “Rip it! Rip it! Rip it!”

  Finally Bill got a good hold on a piece of the wrapping paper and tore it. The look on his face was one of obvious delight. He tore some more, and then some more, and then the plain brown box was unwrapped. Finding the way to open the box, he did just that. And the look that came onto his face was one of disbelief.

  “No way!”

  “What is it?” someone in the crowd yelled. “Hold it up so we can see!”

  Bill pulled out a new MacBook Air. The crowd applauded and hollered in approval.

  “You can’t go to college without a computer,” my mom told him. “Happy Birthday, Bill!” she said as she gave him a hug. My mom had been more of a mom to him than his own had ever been able to be, and they both knew it.

  “This is too much!” he complained.

  “No it’s not! We love you and want you to do well and go far in this world. To do that you need some tools. This is one of them.”

  They hugged again.

  It was still obvious to me that a lot of people were confused by the whole idea of Bill living with us, especially since the two of us had never even seemed to be friendly. While people knew of his abusive father and the physical violence that he and his mother had suffered at his hands over the years, and they knew that his father was gone and that his mother was gone somewhere else, and that their farm had been auctioned off, no one ever spoke of any of this with Bill. There were some things that were just too uncomfortable to talk about with someone. So no one really knew why or how Bill and my mom and dad had bonded to such a degree that they would throw such a big party for him and buy him such an expensive gift. And they certainly didn’t know what to make of me, the geek who had become the best friend of a jock—their jock. This may have been the first time in school history that a geek and a jock had become friends. Not only friends, but best friends.

  It occurred to me that I didn’t know if Bill had had anyone he considered a “best friend” before I came onto the scene. If he did, he never spoke of that person as such. If I had to bet, I would bet that Bill had never had friends over to his house, and he had never been allowed to go spend time at anyone else’s house either. And with no cell phone or computer, it is entirely possible that Bill, the most popular guy in the school in many ways, had never had a real friend before now.

  While Bill had been up at
the front of the room with my mom, I had sat off to the side with my dad. He saw that I was deep in thought over something. “You okay about this, Mark?”

  Looking up at him, I nodded, smiled, and said, “More than okay. I was just thinking about what a hell he must have lived in for all those years. I still don’t understand why it happened….”

  “And why he didn’t fight back?” my dad asked, as if he was reading my mind.

  “Yes!”

  “It’s a very difficult thing. When you’re trapped in a situation like Bill was in, it’s all you’ve ever known. The abuser has always been the alpha male in the house, in this case ruling with an iron fist—literally. The idea of disrupting the power pattern just isn’t conceivable as an option. When you’re in that situation, you come to not think of it as wrong, but just the way things are.”

  “I guess I don’t really understand.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Just rejoice in the fact that we got them out of that situation,” he said while pointing over at Bill, “and he’s in a better life now.”

  “I do, Dad, I do.”

  We looked back at the front of the room. My mom had taken a seat next to Bill and was writing down everything he was getting along with who had given it to him. She had another friend of hers helping to repack things for easy transport when this event was finished. I saw that someone else had taken over selecting presents for Bill. Oh, crap! I thought when I saw who it was. The damned cheerleader who had been such a waste of food while we unpacked the chocolate truck. Yep, the one that Bill said had been pursuing him so relentlessly.

  The next package Bill opened, the first that she had selected for him, was apparently hers. Bill blushed when he saw what the box contained. The crowd shouted for him to hold it up and show what it was. He was too embarrassed to do that, but the girl who wanted him so desperately had no such hesitation. Reaching into the box she pulled out a skimpy pair of camouflage briefs followed by a bright-red jock strap. She said something we couldn’t hear and then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.