Chapter 14

Part 1

The images wouldn’t leave him alone, the eyes kept following every step he took, every move he made they followed him. The heads could barely stay upright on the emancipated bodies but it was the eyes that always made him sweat, always made him feel weak at the knees and made his stomach twist and turn in a pain he never thought he could survive, but somehow he did, somehow he always woke up but he knew that soon that wouldn’t happen, soon he would have peace.

The whole scene looked so unreal, so impossible to believe even now, decades and a whole generation or so later and yet it was like only yesterday to him as he twisted on the bed, his arm reaching out for comfort but finding nothing but empty space. The pain in his heart grew tighter, squeezing all around the beating organ and in his mind he could see himself lying there, his thin ancient body twisted as it tried to physically push aside the pain that was torturing his soul. He felt the bile rising up in his throat as he saw himself walking along the road, flowers and their scent filling his head with thoughts of home, thoughts of this nonsense all being over and there it came, the camp itself.

It didn’t really look any different but he felt a strange heaviness descend on his heart, and the noise of his fellow comrades became stilled as they too felt the ominous presence. He never could explain it, how the place looked no different than dozens of other camps they had come to, yet this one had an air about it that just seemed to seep inside, quietening even the most boisterous.

The acrid stench of burning filled his nostrils as they rounded the small bend towards the main gate. There was nothing as ugly as a whole field encased in barbed wire and large towers rising up in the air; yet as they stood there, the one part of the gate swinging a little in the morning breeze, it had a surreal look to it, almost poetic really and yet the pain in his stomach as he stared at it was anything but poetic. Sweat began to slowly trickle down the sides of his face and his feet felt lead, yet they still took a step forward, one after the other, reluctant but forward anyhow.

He didn’t even look at his friends, men who he had been marching with for a long time now, afraid that he would see them in the same state of near panic that he himself was feeling. Why should this be so petrifying? They had liberated many prison camps, this wasn’t new to them and yet while it was the first so called ‘civilian’ camp it shouldn’t be much different, should it? They had all heard the propaganda, hell it had been going on for years but that was just to try and give a reason for the sacrifices they were expected to make, it wasn’t real and most everyone knew that, didn’t they?

The bed became wet with his sweat and he could feel his old bones creak along with the bed as the sounds intruded briefly, drowning out the stillness that was the camp and even though this had replayed in his mind countless times, it still felt like he was just now seeing it, just now walking past the swinging gate, his rifle at the ready, his eyes moving right then left, his comrades fanning outwards as they entered the main compound. The smell became more pronounced and it was like burning flesh, a sweet sickly stench that ate right into a person’s soul and he coughed, even now the taste of that smoke, that smell, was real and the juices in his stomach began to bubble.

In a cry of pure agony he found himself sitting up in bed, the sweat pouring from every pore in his body and every muscle quivered as he felt the wild beat of his heart pound in the darkness of his bedroom. He stared at the wall, seeing the outline of the curtains and the pain in his chest didn’t ease, didn’t slacken even a tiny amount as he stared open eyed at the thin gaunt lines of what were once people. Their eyes were dark and hollow, many of them lifeless even and yet there wasn’t a sound, not a whisper from any of them as the soldiers filed past, their own eyes bulging as they realized that the rumours didn’t begin to describe what had happened.

Tommy felt the wave of hopelessness cross past his trembling body and the tears began to roll down his face now, just as they always did but unlike many when they cried, the tears failed to wash away the pain, wash away the horror and his body continued to tremble as he stared over at the dresser, seeing the picture frames, the old fashioned gilt edged frames holding a myriad of pictures and his heart only ached more as he missed her now more than ever. Still the tears came and rolled unheeded down his face, the pain in his gut reminding him of more than he cared to even think about, let alone recall, with such vivid detail; but he did. The torture never seemed to end and he even wondered that when his time came if it would even end then?

Slowly he edged himself upright, letting his feet rest on the soft carpet of the floor, taking his time fearful of rising up suddenly. He was old in years and his body may show it but his mind was still sharp and as he finally stood up, his eyes moved back to the dresser but this time they swept past the pictures he always found comfort in, this time they rested on the double edged frame, the one with two small boys’ faces peering out at him.

He sighed deeply as he stared at his son’s pictures, the way Mark seemed almost frightened by having to look at the camera, Walter looking like he was on trial or something. His eyes were so brooding, so angry looking while Mark’s looked so scared, and yet the two were brothers. He shook his head wondering what was it that made two boys born at the same time turn out so differently. Mark was successful and had his own family but he had barely graduated before he had taken off out of Victoria, as if he were escaping something dark and horrid. What did Mark know that he didn’t?

Tommy Fisher turned away from the double edged frame and stared at the glowing green face of the clock radio, a gift from Walter on his last birthday and he reached out, letting his hand touch it softly, wondering what was the secret, what was it that was driving his one son to abandon his own boy and his other son, running from home as fast as he could go, what was it that lay hidden in the past? His hand trembled as he found the phone in his hand, and he stared at the glowing numbers, wondering if he should do what he knew he would have to do one day, ask the questions that he had been dreading ever since Mark came to him and his wife, saying that he was moving away.

The clock showed just a few minutes past eleven and he began to slowly press the glowing numbers, his fingers shaking worse than ever and yet his eyes were glued to the dial pad, refusing to move away as he punched another number, then another and as he came to that last digit, the images of Mark’s face became blended with the other haunting images of strangers, all of them just staring with a blank look, all of them looking so hopeless, so devoid of hope and the tears continued to trickle down his cheeks, past the growing stubble on his face and he softly placed the phone back in its cradle, not ready yet to face another horror.

Part 2

Myron stared out at the darkness, his hands resting on the cold metal railing of the balcony. He stared out at the distant ocean and he could hear the noise of the water itself, the way it would just come slowly in, building in tempo until it met the land where it would suddenly roar out, slapping hard into the shore.

Off in the distance he could see the twinkling lights of Port Angeles and he sighed, wondering if life was as complicated there as it was here, wondering if there were young 18 year olds sitting in single rooms, strangers watching their every move, even when having to go to the bathroom. What was it about this case that had him so on edge, had him wondering the very meaning of life itself?

He took a pull on his cigarette, watching the end flare and the tiny wisps of smoke curl up and he breathed in deeply, feeling the tang of menthol enter his throat and his eyes continued to stare out at the darkness, ignoring the twinkling lights as his mind continued to probe, continued to question why he was doing this. He didn’t have to, he could have told the Rabbi no, but instead he had accepted it, started a file on it even which was a sure sign that he would handle the case even before meeting Robbie Fisher.

It wasn’t like he was even religious, or that the Rabbi was his Rabbi, but something in the man’s voice, something in his manner made him agree even though every part of his well trained mind told him to back off, to let this one go. All the arguments were there to politely refuse and yet deep within his very soul he knew he couldn’t walk away from this case, knew that it would haunt him for the rest of his life if he did and that troubled him.

His mind told him that he wasn’t in the business of charity, which was perhaps the Rabbi’s job but not his. His was law, and his own needs and there was no way that either the Rabbi or Robbie Fisher could afford his hourly fees let alone trial fees, but still he couldn’t shake the gnawing thought that this was important, that it was imperative that he not turn it down.

Myron didn’t object to doing pro bono work, in fact he enjoyed some of it, knowing it looked good on his resume and besides that, it helped his image, helped create a sense of passion that was important when dealing with paying clients. He had taken on some cases not for the money, but for how they helped his image, and image was everything in attracting the right type of clients. They needed to believe that you were a tiger, that you went tooth and nail for the client, irrespective of the financial considerations, so it helped to have not only wins, but also wins for those who hadn’t the money. Even signing up for legal aid and taking on some tough cases there all helped that growing image and yet despite all that, he had to admit, he just didn’t feel satisfied.

Maybe that was why he had been exploring other options, other ways to turn his skills toward? He had begun to toy with the idea of a political career and his wins in family court were certainly a good stepping-stone. Most of the political parties were aware of the need to have family orientated candidates, after all it really didn’t matter what the party platform really was, it was what it appeared to be that mattered and he was young, a fighter for the weak and best yet, he was a minority.

He had thought it rather comical at the start, as he had explored the opportunities with some of the political parties yet not one, nary a single one had bothered to even ask him if he believed in their platform, in their agenda. Now, after a few brief minutes with Robbie Fisher, a few more minutes with the Rabbi, it no longer seemed funny but instead was sad. If they didn’t care, did the people whom he wanted to represent care or were they just interested in him if he looked right, smelled right, and said the right things? Did they care if he had no real agenda, no real idea on what or how to change a system that had been weakened over time, or did they think that just because he said the right things, that he looked like someone you could trust, that he was?

Taking another long drag off his cigarette, he continued to ask himself questions that only made his mind angry, only made it struggle almost as if it were unwilling to answer him with the truth. He knew that in many ways he was lucky, that as the Rabbi might say, that he was blessed. Only thing was, why didn’t he really feel that way? Sure, his life hadn’t all been easy, his parents weren’t exactly rich but they did okay, made a nice living and he really never wanted for anything, and maybe it was that that had him all in knots.

Why should he feel guilty just because he hadn’t had to struggle to get where he was now in his life? Why did it feel like he owed something and that up until now he had been avoiding paying this debt, this unknown due? Surely it wasn’t a requirement that every person had to go through hard times, had to experience pain and suffering in order to be successful and happy? Wasn’t it everyone’s dream to strike it rich or have people know you by sight, even though they were never in your home or your office? What was so terrible about just wanting to be someone who people could point at, could say there goes so and so?

Debbie “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders Myron.”

He turned to stare at Debbie Winston as she spoke, watching her move over to stand beside him and lean on her balcony railing. He had to admit, she looked like hell right now, but then she sure had downed a few it seemed. He had no idea why he had taken such an interest in her, but from the first, there had been something. It wasn’t that she was a raving beauty either, quite the contrary really and yet he always seemed to think about her at the worst times. Maybe it was the cold frigid look she gave that challenged his male ego, or maybe there was something in her that made her first glance appearance seem unreal? Whatever it was, he knew that he was walking a thin tightrope by being here, but he had to be, for some unknown reason.

Myron “Seems that way at times, sorry, uh, how’s the head feeling?”

Debbie “Fuzzy, but at least it isn’t falling off, uh, thanks for bringing me home, and for the coffee.”

Myron “No problem, so, guess I should be going now, still a work day tomorrow.”

Debbie “Yeah, another work day, uh, do you have to leave right away? Maybe you’d like to have a cup of coffee or I can make some tea if you prefer?”

Myron “Well, uh, tea if it’s not too much bother, but you should take it easy, or you taking the day off tomorrow?”

She turned her head to stare over at Myron, wondering what his story was, and wondering why he had been so nice to her? It wasn’t everyday that an eligible bachelor like him paid any attention to someone like her, especially when someone like her was three sheets to the wind? Why was he being so nice, after all she had already told him she wasn’t going to oppose his clients request, so why the deluxe treatment?

Debbie “Day off? There’s a thought, haven’t done that in a long time.”

The way she said it made him turn to stare closer at her face. He could see the wrinkles starting to show around the edges of her mouth and the crow’s feet marks at the corner of her eyes were visible in the night’s light even, and yet something about her held his attention. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but inside there was this sudden urge to find out more, to get to know her and not in the physical sense either, though that too seemed to be on his mind just a little. She made it sound like work was all she had, but surely someone like her had lots of friends, lots of activities that maybe was the reason for no boyfriends or husband; yet, looking at her, the way her head was tilted, he wondered if it was all an illusion, just as his image was?

Myron “You never played hookey? Come on, not even once or twice?”

Debbie “No, not even once, I guess I just never seemed to have a good reason for it.”

Myron “Reason? I suppose.”

Debbie “You?”

Myron “Play hookey? Yeah a few times, not lately though. Seems there is always some meeting, some appointment that can’t be missed.”

Debbie “I know, every day it seems like that; I wish once, just once it wouldn’t be.”

The way she said it, so softly and with so much sorrow that it made him reach out, placing his hand on her shoulder as they both looked into each other’s faces, both of them thinking and wondering about what would come next, or perhaps what shouldn’t come next? He felt like a kid for a moment, almost the way he had felt when on a first date back in high school, but he wasn’t a kid now, he wasn’t some inexperienced teenager and yet.

Myron “I have nothing pressing till 11…”

The touch of his hand on her shoulder felt good, too good in fact and she could feel herself trembling a bit. It had been ages since she had felt the touch of a man in that way, and her eyes moistened as she wondered if what she was thinking was real or just the alcohol making her read more into his touch, his words, than he intended?

She looked up into his eyes and was startled to see a glimpse of loneliness, a brief fleeting image of a man alone and feeling lost. It startled her for she knew that feeling all too well lately. It held her in its grip many a night, and lately it seemed like it was a constant companion of hers. To see it in another’s eyes was daunting, and yet, comforting as she stared into his face, wondering if she should dare accept, or should she withdraw back into her carefully constructed shell?

Debbie “I have some paperwork to complete…”

Myron “It’s a sign.”

Debbie “What is?”

Myron “I have nothing till 11, you only have some papers to shuffle, it’s a sign from the Gods that we should play hookey, what do you say?”

The way his face lit up, it was almost as if he were a different person suddenly. He looked almost like a kid, the way they talked and the way he smiled when saying ‘hookey’ that she too began to feel strangely excited, strangely exhilarated. She knew she might regret this impulsive act but for some reason, deep inside she didn’t care, it was like a breath of fresh air as she saw his eyes twinkle with a strange new life, a strange new glimmer that made her own heart skip a beat or two.

Debbie “Why the hell not? Lets.”

Part 3

It was late, he knew that if he got caught he’d really be in for it but he just couldn’t stay home, not with what he had heard, not knowing what he knew now. It didn’t make sense, yet his father seemed as if he had known, as if it were no surprise but how could that be? Robbie had been given the same lessons, the same careful instructions so how could he suddenly be that, that way?

His grandfather was the one surprised, not even his mother seemed too surprised by it, but why didn’t he know? What was it that he had missed in all those years sharing secrets, sharing inside details about recent conquests? Were those conquests real? Was all that he had shared with Robbie real or was it make believe?

Justin had no idea how he got there, he wasn’t even sure at first if it were the right place until he checked out the listings on the door intercom system. Then he knew, as he saw his brother’s name and right under it, the other name, the Jew’s name ‘Goldberg, J.”

He knew a Goldberg, least he thought that was his name, new kid that showed up at the end of last year, transfer from back east. He didn’t seem any different than anyone else, he had heard that the guy’s dad was some religious type, something like a pastor or such but he didn’t really care, the guy seemed okay. Could he be the one? No, couldn’t be, he was younger than Justin, but he did remember, the guy had an older brother. That could be it, maybe it was his older brother, but shit, that would mean that he too most likely was a fag, and he was going out for the team this year.

Justin wasn’t sure what to do now, and he walked over to lean up against the large tree truck out in front, away from the door and away from any nosey tenant too. He needed to think about all this, as he now had a name, but what could he do with just a name? If it were that new kid’s brother, and he taught him a lesson, well it would get out at school, and then what? Everything he had been working for would be shit, he would be known now as the brother of that fag, and it was bad enough being compared to Robbie as it was, this would only be worse.

Leaning into the trunk of the tree, he wondered how dare Robbie do this to him, how dare he screw his whole life up just for some Jew cock. That wasn’t fair, wasn’t it enough that he could get as much pussy as he wanted, why did he have to go for cock? It just didn’t make sense, not after all the lessons dad gave them, it just didn’t make sense.

The hard bark of the tree dug into the softness of his lower back and he felt the pain lancing up and down his thigh from where he had taken the spill on the bike. Even that no longer felt good, discovering that Robbie was a fudge packer ruined the thrill of his first solo effort on the bike. How was he supposed to feel about anything knowing that?

He grimaced sharply as he shifted his weight, feeling the searing fire of the pain racing up and down his leg and he could feel its heat even now, as he leaned against the tree, and he reached down with his hand, to try and soothe the ache. The mere touch brought a tear to his eyes, as it felt like it was on fire but the furnace of his rage kept the real pain cooled, for now.

Touching his leg, feeling how the swelling seemed to have stopped, or at least didn’t seem to be any more confused him, as it momentarily replaced his anger with fear, the fear that perhaps there was more to the pain in his leg than he wanted to admit to. His dad had told him to walk it off, to be a man and he was trying but it only grew more painful. He knew he shouldn’t have gone out, that all the walking he had done only made the pain worse, but he couldn’t stay home and listen to his parents fight again, listening to his father’s exasperation and his mother’s cries. It was too much on top of it all so he had gone out, and now he was here.

His head turned at the sound of car doors slamming shut and he glanced over towards the loading area in front of the apartment building’s front walk. He saw a young guy get out of the passenger side that looked vaguely familiar and he straightened up a little, his heart pounding a bit faster, the pain in his side no longer holding him in its grip as it was replaced by the simmering rage of the wrong done to him and his family by the tall young boy who got out of the driver’s side of the car.

The image of his brother’s brooding eyes flashed across his face as he stood up, the sudden move making him wince in deep pain as his hand shot out to grab at his leg, to hold it from exploding or so it seemed. He couldn’t let a simple little leg cramp and bruise stop him, not now, not when he was so close to easing the anger that was tearing into him.

Justin wanted to scream to the heavens, the pain was so intense as he moved, the pressure of his hand against the burning leg only made the pain race faster up and down his young body and he felt like he would pass out. The terror came to him but the rage held him steady, helped to keep his legs from buckling totally and he breathed in and out slowly, forcing the jolting pain out of his mind, refusing to surrender to its terror just as he had been taught by his dad. He let the air out slowly, regaining control over his young body, and he stood up straight now, the fire in his leg no longer a match for his anger, his rage, and his determination to avenge the wrong done.

He took one step forward, then another but it was all too slow, as he watched the two Jews walking up to the apartment building together. He knew it was him, the taller one was the one and the anger in his heart grew strong as he hobbled from under the tree to head over to them both. He didn’t care that the older one was Robbie’s size or anything, he didn’t even care that it was two against one, all he wanted was to feel his fist in the older boy’s face.

The rage inside was only eating at him, tearing into what was already a ripped and bleeding soul and his eyes clouded over as he staggered from under the tree but he was too late. They had disappeared inside and he stared, his fists balled up beside him and every ounce of his entire 152-pound body shook with the unstilted rage that held his heart and his mind.

Slowly he was able to clear his eyes and regain some control over his shaking limbs. He turned and once more leaned against the ancient tree trunk, his body nestled against its cold rough bark and he thought again about how he could have missed something like his older brother being queer. It didn’t make sense and he knew that it was that Jew, that Goldberg, who had turned his brother into a fucking faggot, but how? How could anyone turn another into something as horrible, as gross as that?

He couldn’t explain why it was so important to him to lash out, all he knew was that he couldn’t sit at home, couldn’t just do nothing and yet now, standing here, waiting for them to emerge from the apartment he didn’t know why, and he didn’t know what it was that he wanted to do. Robbie had been close to him for as long as he could remember until about a year before his senior year at school. Then it all changed, he became distant as if he were lost in some far off land, which didn’t make any sense.

Christ, Robbie should have been happy, he was the emerging star on the basketball team, he had virtually all of dad’s attention, surely that should have made him happy? Okay, maybe dad wasn’t the easiest person to please, and he did get a bit rough when giving the lessons, but it was for their own good. God, if he didn’t have all those lessons he sure as hell wouldn’t be Betty’s boyfriend otherwise, of that he was certain. So why was Robbie so unhappy back then, why did he go out of his way to stop sharing lessons with him?

Okay, he didn’t really care for dad’s lessons, he had to admit that, even to Robbie, but he didn’t like math either and he wasn’t exactly a dunce there, it just took more work, so what was the big deal? Maybe Robbie felt that dad would like him more than he liked Robbie? Could his older brother have done all that because he was jealous? Did he do those things just so that dad would like him more than Justin?

No, it couldn’t be that simple, but standing there, he felt like there was so much that he didn’t understand, so much that didn’t make any sense to him. It still made little sense that what two guys did was so gross but if he were honest, it was the same as what the lessons were about, but that was different, wasn’t it? Thinking about Robbie having some guy’s dick in his ass made him cringe, but how many times had dad needed to let Robbie experience what the girls experienced by doing just that, by putting his dick into Robbie’s ass? Christ, he did it to Justin at least once or twice a week, and Robbie was with him more times, so how could it be so different?

Justin shook his head, the thoughts all confused and mixed up inside as he tried to make sense of it. Robbie always had girlfriends, and they were always the most popular, the most desirable ones, dad saw to that so how could he suddenly switch to guys? What was it about that Jew that made his brother turn queer? He couldn’t get that idea out of his head, and it felt like it would just explode.

He felt his chest ache as he struggled to try and make sense of everything, at how it was that what his dad did to him and had done to Robbie was really any different than what supposedly Robbie and that Goldberg did? It had to be different; if it weren’t then it meant his dad had lied, but why? Why would his dad lie? No way could he be queer, shit the guy was his father, his and Robbie’s.

For a second he felt himself trying to call out for Robbie, just as he had done those first few times after ‘dad’s lessons’ when he was maybe just 12 or so, but Robbie wasn’t here now, was he? He felt scared and lost and the pain in his side now once more rose up to occupy his mind, and he reached down with anger and felt a sudden terror grip at his heart. His pant leg was wet and moist and the pain was ripping into his very belly now, as the night grew cloudy, grew darker even though streetlights blazed.

He didn’t know what was happening to him, he felt the way his heart was racing now, pounding faster than he could ever remember it pound. His mind was unsure and yet his heart kept beating, faster and faster with each passing second. The wetness didn’t seem to stop either; it was like it was growing, as if he had sprung a leak but how? All he had done was scrape the skin, bruise it and sure it had swollen up, that wasn’t out of the ordinary, or so his dad had said, so where was this coming from? He knew he hadn’t pissed his pants, and the grass wasn’t wet and besides he hadn’t sat down, he had only leaned against the tree. Could it be sap maybe because it did feel kind of sticky but then why was everything looking so hazy, so distant even?

Justin felt strange, even his rage no longer seemed to matter as he struggled with trying to figure out what was happening to him. He could feel himself sliding down now, the weight of standing too much and the pain, man the pain was only growing more intense and he needed to sit down, to stretch his leg out and take the weight off it. He felt angry at himself, at his weakness for a moment but the pain was just too much as he surrendered to it, letting his young body slowly ease down towards the soft earth.

The rage inside was tempered by the growing fear of what was happening to him. His mind couldn’t grasp all that was happening and it felt so empty, so alone, and as he sat there, he heard his voice calling out, heard his own shaky voice as it called for ‘Robbie.’

Justin “Robbie, Robbie you awake?”

Robbie “Yeah, what are you sniffling about?”

Justin “Does dad hate me?”

Robbie “No, no he just uh, he just wants to make you into a man, that’s all, he explained it didn’t he?”

Justin “Yeah, but I am only 12, why do I have to learn it now?”

Robbie “There is lots you have to learn, might as well get a head start, least that’s what dad says.”

Justin “Does it hurt less when you are older?”

Robbie “Yeah, a bit, it always hurts some I guess.”

Justin “I don’t like it Robbie.”

Robbie “I know, but, you’ll get used to it, I did.”

Justin “How, I mean, it hurts so much.”

Robbie “You just do that’s all.”

Justin “He says you take it like a real man, is that good Robbie?”

Robbie “I suppose, you aren’t supposed to cry or anything, if you do it makes you a sissy, that’s why he does it so rough, so we will learn what it feels like and not cry, no matter what Justy, don’t cry, bite your lip if you have to, just don’t cry.”

Justin “Do you bite your lip?”

Robbie “I used to at first, then it got easier, just don’t cry, when you cry it only makes him do it harder, okay?”

Justin “It hurts so much, I can’t help it, when will it stop hurting so much, it hurts me still.”

Robbie “I know, but it does get easier, after, well after stick some of that ointment stuff in there, it helps stop it from hurting for too long.”

Justin “He said not to, does he let you?”

Robbie “No, he doesn’t, but, well sometimes, when I was your age, I did, it helped.”

Justin “Do you still?”

Robbie “No, it goes away fast enough now, just remember to clean yourself later on, he’ll really get mad if you have any there next time.”

Justin “Does it clean easy? I don’t know how, Robbie, what will he do if he finds cream inside? Does he look?”

Robbie “No, he can tell, by feel I think, uh you get a cloth with warm water, stick it inside and poke it in with your finger, its icky but then he won’t find any; he tell you what happens if he does?”

Justin “Yes, he said he does it without any of that lube stuff, right?”

Robbie “Yeah, if he does, it’ll hurt really bad then Justy, so don’t forget, make sure you clean it all out after the pain goes away, okay? Clean it all, all inside and out Justy, can you do that?”

Justin “I think so, thanks Robbie.”

Robbie “Yeah, go to sleep Justy, or he’ll be in here yelling.”

Justin “Okay.”

Weird how you can remember things from so long ago, but that wasn’t that long ago, and Robbie had been right, the pain never really did go away but you got used to it, so it just didn’t hurt that much anymore. Course that didn’t mean it couldn’t, especially if the old man was on a roll, fuck he could be so rough, but he hadn’t cried, no matter how rough he had been he hadn’t cried, so why was he crying now? Why was this pain so much worse than the others?

Part 4

He opened his eyes and stared up at the flaking paint on the ceiling, wondering what it was that had made him awaken? For a second or two he wasn’t sure where he was and was about to turn his face, to see if Josh were there when he realized where he was. The ache in his groin left but the pain in his heart didn’t ease up as he blinked a few more times, wondering why he suddenly felt so tense, so nervous?

Robbie felt wide awake now and he wondered what time it was, another thing he noticed about being locked up in here, he never knew what time it was. The only way he knew when lunch was, was when the big carts arrived. For lunch and dinner the noise of the carts was the signal but other than that, nothing until around 9 o’clock when the Nurses would come around with the orderlies to dispense the night medications.

Maybe that was why he was awake? He had refused the pills, unwilling to take any more medications out of fear that it might be used against him in a possible hearing. Why was it that doctors were so quick to label people drug addicts and then turn around and prescribe sleeping pills and stuff? It just didn’t make sense, but did trying to kill yourself make any better sense?

His wrists ached and he stared at the white glowing bandages that were wrapped neatly around both wrists. He shivered a little as he could still see his hands moving slowly across his wrists, the razor growing redder with each pass, but he hadn’t felt much, nothing really beyond that first sort of prickle. Funny how the pain didn’t really come then, only when he woke up in the Jubilee hospital did the pain come and it hurt so much then that he actually felt tears rolling down his face.

Despite his anger, his hatred for the man, he still remembered his ‘lessons’ and he bit back the tears, stifled the sobs of agony as the doctor’s worked on stitching him up. He slowly stopped feeling the pain, well at least most of it but that had to be the drugs they had given him. It still was a bit of a blur to him, but he was alive and that had to mean something, didn’t it?

Still though, the pain in his wrists was different than he had expected. They weren’t sharp or anything like that, instead they felt sort of dull and throbbed at times but nothing sharp that he thought it would be. Weird too how it didn’t always hurt either, not like a constant pain, but he would notice the pain when he felt troubled, felt afraid like he was feeling now. He really didn’t know what it was he was afraid of, maybe in having to deal with assholes like the doctor, or maybe it was fear of having to face Josh?

The lawyer had been a surprise too, but he had explained that the head quack had refused the Rabbi to visit again, so instead he had asked him to come, under the auspices of being his lawyer. Man that was so weird too, to have Josh’s dad going to all this bother for him, and they had never met until the other day. He didn’t know why Josh had been so upset with his father, the guy seemed to really care and hell, it had to be better than what he and Justin…

As he started to think about Justin the pain in his wrists grew even stronger. He gasped for air, his whole body caught off guard by the sudden stabbing pain that went lancing up both arms and straight for his heart. Tears welled up at his eyes as he could see his brother’s face flash before him and in that second, that simple instant of time he knew that Justin was lost to him.

That simple thought filled his mind with stark terror and he felt himself shaking uncontrollably as he refused to believe the premonition that now was racing inside of him. His heart ached and felt like it was slowly being torn into tiny pieces as he began to feel the tears, and he tried to hold them back, desperate not to be a sissy, desperate to be a man and yet what was a man? Was he less of a man because the idea of never again being friends with Justin tore at him, made him cry? How did any of that make him less of a man?

Still he fought it but the cries of his spirit were too much for the iron will of his mind and he heard the first sob escape his lips as once more the haunting look of his younger brother’s face came flashing across his eyes. Still he fought, as a tear slowly trickled down his face and he banged his hands on the bed, his fingers balled up into fists as he fought with his soul, fought to stay the man he had been taught to be.

His breathing slowly came under control, the wild thought of Justin being lost to him pushed away for the moment as he fought his war, fought against the years of teachings by a man whom he now loathed, yet refused to give up. The lawyer had asked some pretty tough questions, which he never answered but he could see it in his eyes, the way they looked at him. At first he had thought it was because he was gay, that that was what was making him nervous but then he stared fully into the man’s face and he could see that he knew.

Strange really how seeing that in Myron’s face had calmed him so much, had made him stop holding his breath and even smile a bit as Myron explained what he had to do when he next met with Dr. Macgregor. It was all so different, because he had half expected that social services lady to pick up on it, but like before, she was just a robot, doing what the people at the controls told her to do. Just following orders, that was her line back then, and he remembered how his grandfather had talked once, how all the German guards they had found had simply said the same thing, that they had been following orders. He hated that excuse and he turned his face away from the orderly desk, wondering why he was thinking all these things now?

Cory was dead, he knew that and he knew that it was at his own hand too. He really didn’t understand all that much, but what he did know, he knew that Cory just couldn’t take it anymore, that the pain inflicted on him by his parents was just too much for him. He never was strong, he was always crying when they were together, and just like Justin, he had wanted to know when the pain would end, when it would stop hurting but it was a different pain that he was talking about, even though the answers were the same. The pain never went away, you just got used to it.

Lying there in the bed, his wrists throbbing now, he wondered what it was about adults that ignored all that went on with kids? Teachers who should have known or at least recognized the signs, ignored the signs, until it was usually too late. Then they wondered why the kid had turned out so bad, amazed even that he had lasted as long as he had. It was all just so much crap, so much shit that he was surprised that he had even been around to meet Josh, let alone pursue him and now what?

He was damaged goods, his mind knew it but his heart still seemed to be under the delusion that love could cure it, that what Josh felt for him was still there, that it was real and not just an overactive imagination; but if it were false, if it were a charade why had Josh gone to his father? Why had he gone to the one person he had sworn he wouldn’t ask for anything and yet now, if what the lawyer said was true, he would be joining Josh in staying at the Goldberg home. Could there really be parents out there who were as he had dreamed parents might be? Cory’s sure as hell weren’t, his own parents weren’t, so why was Josh so lucky? What was it about him that let him have parents who cared and he didn’t? What made him, Robbie Fisher, so undeserving?

Robbie stared down at his wrists, his eyes misted still by tears and he blinked, seeing a small trickle of blood slowly seeping across the white of the bandage. He felt the sudden sharp stab deep in his heart and he cried out, panic tearing at him as he leapt out of the bed, holding his arm out in front of him, seeing the blood stain get darker and he turned to see the orderly rushing towards him, and still he felt panic, still he felt the weight pressing down on his shoulders as he heard the door opening and he looked up, terror glowing from his face as he cried out, calling for first Josh, then in a muffled voice, he called for Justin, and felt the silence as the orderly walked him out of the room towards the desk.