The song ended and Ben turned the sound down, letting the CD play on in the background.

Gene laughed and said, "Creed ... you?"

"Metallica too," Ben responded, laughing back at him.

"Aerosmith."

"Pink Floyd."

"Rolling Stones."

"Rush."

"Um ... Stevie Ray."

"Eric Clapton ... he's a god."

"Oh you got that right ... awesome," Gene said.

Interesting ... they had just traded musical interests and found themselves compatible. It was ten seconds of the best communication they'd had to this point and Ben felt elated. The boy was bright, maybe a little naive about life in general, but he had a mind worthy of development.

Not that it was his job to look after the boy but somehow Ben felt the need. Gene had the desire to be different, to make changes. He was young, malleable and oh so dangerous for an older gay guy. Ben wasn't quite sure what he wanted from the boy, but he knew Gene wanted something from him.

Ben switched lanes and took the off ramp onto University Drive. His office was only several minutes away in the business park behind the new mall.

"Oh, I was gonna get a job at the food court here when they opened this past summer," Gene said as they passed the mall.

"What happened to that?" Ben asked.

"My mom wouldn't let me apply. She wanted me home all the time back then."

"Back then?"

"Yeah, it was right after my dad left us; she was a mess over that."

"And how did you feel ... how do you feel about your dad leaving?" Ben asked.

Gene became very still at the question and Ben was about to pose another when the boy answered.

"I was mad ... no, I felt cheated. He was the only person who would listen to me, mom never did and it's worse now."

The loss had devastated the boy. It was all there in his tone of voice, and Ben was sure Gene never had the chance to talk to anyone about it before. Ben heard a sniff as he pulled into the lot and parked the car. There were tears in Gene's eyes.

"I hate my life," Gene said, and the tears flowed down his cheeks.

Ben unsnapped his seatbelt and then Gene's, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. A few sobs racked the kid's body and Ben slid a hand across, pulling the kid into his arms. Gene seemed reluctant at first but then laid his head against Ben's chest and cried.

Ben's mind was wide open to the feelings he had at that moment. He had never considered it would come to this, but he was feeling parental. The boy needed a man in his life. The twin had the wrestling coach, although that still sounded a little funny. But that wasn't his concern, what did Gene have?

Gene felt so thin, a real lightweight. He was Ben's height; their eyes were at the same level. But he was fit and trim while Gene had to be underweight for his age. Didn't she feed him? It wasn't part of the program but Ben was concerned, very concerned.

Gene sat up and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry ... " he began.

"Don't be," Ben interrupted. "Look, you miss your father ... have you seen him since he left?"

Gene shook his head. "I don't know where he went ... she won't tell me."

Oh that was not right, not right at all. What kind of bitch was she?

"I can probably find out for you ... if you want me to," he said.

"That would be great, Mr. Bradshaw ... I mean it." Again that puzzled look and Ben could almost hear the words before they were spoken. "Why are you being so nice to me?" Gene asked once again.

Ben smiled and said the first thing that came to mind. "Because Eric Clapton is a god."

He didn't wait for Gene's reaction and popped the door open to get out. But the boy reached out a hand and pulled on his arm. Ben stopped and looked back. Their eyes met and there was something there, something he was almost afraid to see.

"I like you Mr. Bradshaw ... thanks."

"Thanks, Gene ... I like you too."

Florence was sitting at the front desk when Gene and Ben walked through the glass doors. The boy looked around at all the artwork hanging about the room. Ben had become a collector right out of college and still wondered that no one had figured out he was gay. He had always thought this was a dead giveaway.

"Hi, Flo," Ben said. "Anything on top?"

Florence was a god-send; she ran Ben's business life. He had hired her away from a local bank where she was wasting her talents as the assistant branch manager, and then he had quickly decided to give her full command.

"Nothing cooking you need to worry about, Ben," Flo replied. "And who's this?"

"Mr. Gene Carr ... Gene come and meet Miss Lawson, she's the real boss around here."

"Hello, Gene," Flo said. "So very nice to meet you. Now aren't you the handsome young man."

Gene blushed and mumbled his, "Hello, nice to meet you too, Miss Lawson."

"Well isn't he the gentleman too. You can call me Flo, sweetie."

Gene still had the blush on his face when Ben escorted the boy into his private office.

"I think she likes you," he said, winking at the boy.

"I get along with black people ... well most of the time," Gene said.

Hmm, and here we go again, Ben thought. It had never occurred to him that Gene might have negative feelings about black people. The civil rights movement forced most southern states to rethink their prejudices, but that wasn't always true about the locals. There were still some racial lines drawn, but Ben hoped most of that was cultural by now.

But Gene was a product of his environment and obviously not as enlightened as he should be. Ben knew there was still racial tension in the school system; it was part of his business to know about that. The county had their share of gang activity and an unrealistic population of young blacks in the penal system. It remained to be seen if Gene had any hard prejudices against any of his fellow students.

"Would you like something to drink?" Ben asked.

"Sure, that would be nice," Gene replied.

He fetched a couple of Coke cans from the small fridge and turned to find Gene looking at his prize painting on the wall above the couch.

"You sure got a thing for all this art stuff," the boy said. "But this picture is painted all fuzzy like."

"It's an impressionist piece. The artist is only representing the shapes without the detail, at least that's what he said."

"You know the guy who did this?"

"Yes, he was my roommate in college. Joseph will be quite famous one of these days, I assure you."

"Well I like normal pictures. Least ways so I can figure out what I'm looking at," Gene laughed.

"That is still one of my favorites, and I understand what he was trying to say so I bought it. How about we sit down, we need to talk about some things."

Gene chose a chair facing Ben's desk and so he took the seat behind it.

"You don't have a lot on your desk. You should see the one my principal has, it's all piled up with papers."

"Let's hope they're not all about you, but we do most of our work electronically," Ben said, tapping the flat screen monitor of his computer. "So when's your birthday?"

"The week before Christmas I'll turn eighteen. We never have a party or nothin. My mom ... well she drinks."

"Your mother drinks too much, is that what you're telling me?"

Gene sighed. "She drinks and does pills too. I'm afraid I'm gonna wake up some morning and she will have killed herself with all that crap."

"You don't approve then. Have you ever done drugs?"

Gene's face went blank but he nodded. "I smoked pot a little. Haven't you?"

Ben smiled. This wasn't about him, and normally he would have shut down a client who asked questions like that, but this was Gene. He needed a better influence in his life, or at least an honest one.

"I did in school, probably much like you," Ben said. "But then I started work and knew it would get in the way of what I wanted to accomplish in life so I quit. Do you smoke pot with your friends or alone?"

"Oh I can't buy no pot, its way too expensive. But I got a friend who shares with me sometimes."

"You have a lot of friends?" Ben asked.

"No, not really."

"No girlfriend?"

"Um, no," Gene laughed. "They're even more expensive."

"Never had a girlfriend?"

Gene blushed; he knew what the question meant.

"No."

"I guess when your life is all upside down it's hard to get into a relationship." Ben said. "The problems you have at home probably make it more difficult. Besides, you're still young, some guys wait until they're older."

"I wanted to get with this Mexican girl who lives up the street," Gene said. "I'd sure like to ... well, she's fine, but her brothers scare me."

"Yes, their culture is often hard to understand, but their men folk are very protective. So I gather you haven't much experience with girls?" There, he'd asked the first hard question.

Gene looked at him with that 'why did you have to ask that' look on his face. Ben backed off.

"You don't have to answer me," he said.

"No ... I have to be honest; you said that before ... I have to trust you."

"Do sexual questions upset you?" Ben asked.

Gene blushed a bit; his hands rubbed the fabric of his jeans nervously.

"Yup ... but they shouldn't, huh? I've never been with a girl."

"Thank you for the trust," Ben said. "Maybe you'll get lucky with that Mexican girl."

"Naw, she's just something to think about when I ... " Now he really started blushing.

"Masturbate?" Ben laughed. "Sorry, don't be so uncomfortable. You don't see me writing any of this down, do you? I just want to know what you think about things, that's all."

"I guess all guys jerk off, so I do too. I bet even you do."

"You got me with that one, of course all guys do. It's normal, especially at your age when there are no other options. I bet you even did it with your brother Dean."

Gene's eyes got wider in shock, as if Ben had penetrated a wall of secrecy and exposed a great truth.

"Um ... yeah, when we were younger, I suppose we did. Why is that important?"

"Ok, here's my line of thought. I'm not trying to be sneaky about any of this. Twins do a lot of things alike, it's probably genetic. You guys should have hit puberty at the same time and boys have questions at a younger age. So it just seems likely that you explored sexuality at the same time. Masturbation is the most likely activity you would share. Am I making sense to you?"

"Yes ... I didn't think anyone knew about the stuff we did. Dean was really interested in all that stuff, way more than I was ... "

And then it was like Gene threw up a brick wall in his head. His face seemed to go blank again.

"Has he ever had a girlfriend?" Ben asked.

"Maybe, but he's been gone almost a year. I don't know for sure."

Gene was being evasive, and that door had to be pried open.

"Yes, you said he moved in with his wrestling coach. Why did he do that?"

It was as if Ben had hit the panic button in Gene's mind. The distress on the boy's face was apparent and he only stared back silently.

"Gene ... is everything all right with your brother?"

"No ... he's ... he's a faggot," Gene said.

"He's in a relationship with his coach?" Ben asked softly.

Gene was very upset now. They were getting closer to some real discovery here. At the very least the coach was a criminal.

"Yeah ... I guess. Dean's a fag and so is that man."

"They're both gay you mean?"

"Yeah, they do shit I don't even want to think about."

"But you were the best of friends when you were younger, I understand how upset you are," Ben said.

"No you don't, how could you? That man is fucking him up the ass and I know it."

"How do you know that?" Ben asked. "Did he ever try anything with you?"

"Yes ... ok? He tried to get in my pants and I wouldn't let him but Dean did. I hate that guy ... he's a faggot mother-fucker."

Gene was almost yelling now and Ben held up a hand to calm him down. The boy was breathing harshly and his face was red. There was some real anger here, but Ben didn't stop at that point, he pursued the matter further.

"Do your parents know about any of this?"

Gene's fury turned towards his mother and maybe she deserved it.

"Her? She let Dean move in with him. She knows ... she knows damn well what's goin on over there. I think he gives her money to keep quiet, I bet he does."

"And have you spoken to Dean about living with this guy?"

"Yeah, he loves the fucker. His faggot boyfriend buys him all kinds of shit. He's got a motorcycle and all these clothes ... "

"And you're a little bit jealous, aren't you? Because truthfully, that's what I'm hearing," Ben said.

"Jealous? Of that? Ain't no faggot gonna get up my butt no matter what he buys me."

"And Mr. Hanover? He hasn't tried anything with you, but you hate him because of your brother and the coach."

"Yeah, Hanover is an all right guy, but he's a fag too."

"And so you took out your hatred for the coach on poor Mr. Hanover, a guy who never did anything to you. Do you think that was fair? Was it because he showed the class a picture of his partner?"

Gene laughed nervously. Ben had hit the nail on the head. "Yeah ... yeah I did, just because he's gay."

"So it's ok for you to think of Hanover as a gay person but your brother is a faggot? Is that fair?"

"I did wrong, didn't I?" Gene asked.

"Yes, it was off base, an error in thinking. But it's all right to have strong feelings about these things. Unfortunately for Mr. Hanover, you directed your anger at the wrong person."

"I'm sorry," Gene said.

It was like a little boy apologizing for wetting his pants. He'd been caught up in his feelings and now Ben had to set things right.

"This coach approached you before your dad left, didn't he? Why didn't you tell your dad that he tried to molest you?"

"I did, but mom said I was lying. I think he had already started things with Dean and she knew about it."

This was more like rational thought; Gene was working it out.

"So your dad chose to believe her instead of you. I bet that hurt."

"Yup, I was shocked. My dad and I were always close, closer then he was with Dean most of the time. And I guess Dean said I was lying too, but he was just covering for himself."

"I bet it felt like your whole family had abandoned you, and then your dad left?"

"Yeah, he and mom started arguing more and she started slapping him around. I don't know why he took it, he could have stopped her. And she started drinking every night until he finally left. I guess I can't blame him."

There weren't any tears this time, Gene was thinking it through and that was what he needed.

"So how did you boys get involved with this coach?" Ben asked.

"Dean was always the jock so he just signed up for the wrestling team in ninth grade. He wanted me to join too, but I didn't. Seems he liked the coach right away and started going over to this guy's house all the time. I ... I saw them doing stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Uh ... the guy had his hand down Dean's shorts and was rubbing him. Dean saw me watching and said it was cool, that I should try it. It was so weird, Dean wanted this guy to rub my dick. But when I felt myself start to get hard I ran out of the house."

"But Dean didn't, he stayed," Ben said.

"Yeah, he did. When he got home later I asked him what was up with this guy and he said the man made him feel sexy and that's all. A couple days later he went back over there but I didn't go this time."

"Did Dean ever try and tell you what they did together?"

"No, but he showed me. Sorry ... look, it's kinda hard to tell you about it."

"You don't have to," Ben said.

"Dean sucked me off, that's what he showed me. I was afraid I was a fag too like him cause I liked it. Oh man, I never told anyone that before."

"No Gene, you're not gay because your brother sucked on you, it doesn't happen like that."

"But I thought about it a lot. I even went back over to the coach's house with Dean cause he said the man would suck me off. But I got scared and didn't go in right away. I guess Dean was in there a while and I had to use the bathroom real bad so I walked in the house. I heard noises coming from the bedroom. And when I looked in the room I saw this guy fucking Dean up the butt. It freaked me out and I ran home."

"Did you tell your parents?"

"No ... but I asked Dean what they were doing. It sounded crazy but he said the guy made him feel good. Like how could a dick up your ass feel good?"

"Are you asking me?" Ben said. He was the one blushing now.

"No, why would you know about that. It was just ... how do gay guys get off on that shit?"

At least the boy was saying gay guys instead of faggots, Ben thought. Gene was learning something or was he wondering? If he thought I was gay he sure wouldn't be calling me a faggot to my face. Did he wonder about me? Didn't seem so.

"Well the male anatomy is different than a woman's, but if big things can come out your rear end I suppose big things can go in."

"That's just nasty, isn't it?"

"I guess that depends on if you are the top or the bottom."

Gene laughed, he understood the meaning.

"The thought of something up my butt scares me," Gene finally said.

"Then choose your girlfriends carefully. Some of them like to put a finger up your butt and massage your prostate."

"Prostate? What's that?"

"Oh, you want an anatomy lesson now I guess?"

"Sorry, I just never heard that before."

"Ok, Anatomy 101. The prostate gland is a little plum sized gland that sits inside your body below your penis. It produces fluid, some of which you already know about since you masturbate. Your sperm floats in this stuff so it's very useful. Well the gland is partially exposed in your anus. If you ever have a complete medical exam your doctor will examine the gland to see if everything is normal."

"Wow, so how's he gonna do that?"

"Maybe you don't want to know, but he puts on rubber gloves, adds some KY lube to a finger and slips it up your backside."

"No way, you're kidding," Gene laughed.

"I'm serious. He's testing to see if you might have prostate problems, you can tell with a touch during the exam. But considering your doctor is doing the fingering it probably won't feel very sexy."

Gene looked at him closely. Ben almost laughed but thought it would make the boy think it was all a lie.

"Dude, where did you learn about that?" Gene asked.

"So I'm 'Dude' now, huh. I learned it in school, silly."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bradshaw, I shouldn't have called you a dude."

"You're right; would you rather call me Ben?"

Gene smiled, "Can I?"

"Yes, you may," Ben said. "I have to tell you something, Gene, but I don't want you to take this the wrong way. I like you, you're a smart likeable guy and if anything I want to be your friend. You've been very brave today ... and honest as well. I respect you for that. I think you would make a good friend."

"Friends? You and me? Uh ... I'd like that a whole lot ... Ben."

"Me too," Ben said. "So as my newest friend you be sure and tell me if I get on your nerves, just tell me to fuck off if you want."

"Oh, I could never do that," Gene said.

"Maybe. You have been more than honest this morning, and that has given me a lot to think about."

"I need to apologize to Mr. Hanover, don't I?"

"Yes, you do, but I'm going to speak with him first. In fact this whole thing is going to be quite difficult, thanks a lot."

"What's difficult?"

"Well your brother is in a sexual relationship with an adult, that's illegal. Your mom and maybe your dad know about it as well, that's illegal. Hell, I suppose you wanting to bone that Mexican girl down the street is illegal too. How old is she anyway?"

"Uh, maybe thirteen," Gene said.

"Illegal as hell, you horny young man. You're seventeen now, so you better back off that girl and start using both hands on yourself. Practice makes perfect."

"I already got lots of practice ... um, shit. Guess I'll just stay a virgin for now."

"Sorry, Gene, we have enough troubles as it is. I could end up getting everyone except you and your brother thrown into jail for this mess. I guess the first thing is for me to talk with Hanover and see if he will drop the charges. That would solve the problem, but you'll have to kiss his ass a little after that."

"I'll apologize tomorrow ... " Gene began.

"No, don't say anything yet. Let me soften him up first. Hey, we make a great team. What do you say ... I'm hungry again, this has been hard work."

Gene smiled, "You are some kind of crazy ... Ben. I like that about you."

"Then wait until you really get to know me, I'll drive you fucking bonkers."


On to Chapter Four

Back to Chapter Two

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"Gene" Copyright © 27 September 2008 Chris James. All rights reserved.
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