Date: Sun, 15 Jul 2007 06:44:24 -0700 (PDT) From: Matthew Templar Subject: Never Take Love For Granted - Chapter 18 All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. Furthermore, every word of this story is fiction. Nothing within this tale happened to anyone I know. Any reference to anyone, anything or any place, real, living or dead is coincidental. If there is someone that has written a law saying that you can't read this story because of age or local laws or other such 'wisdom', then you haven't really gotten this far into Nifty to read this anyway, right! Write to me with the date of your legal birthday and I will...Not! I will answer all appropriate emails, but, thank you in advance for your time to write. Unless you've submitted a story, you can't know how important it is to hear how you, the reader, like an artist's work. Thanks again. Finally, there is not enough room to express my gratitude to my friend, Dwight Wilson for his dedication to the editing of this work and encouraging me to continue. Read Brad's Idol in Adult/Youth and New Horizons in Authoritarian (it's really anti-authoritarian) to know the experience he brings to my story. You will not be disappointed! Then tell him to write FASTER! I need my fix too! Your comments and suggestions are most welcome. Matthew Templar at matemp1148@yahoo.com * * * * * * Never Take Love For Granted - Chapter 18 The West Fork Church of Hope van was light yellow with a blue cross on each side. Inside was the pastor in a casual suit and a dozen men, most of who looked like they could use a meal and, the older of them, a shave. "Pastor Mike Wilson. You must be Sam?" said the suit, as he extended his hand and a hardy grin. He was a handsome young pastor. He didn't look like he could have reached much beyond thirty, if that. His shirt was purple with one of those white cut outs at his throat to show everyone his profession. He had the charisma that a pastor should; it didn't take long to figure that out. "Pleased to meet you, Pastor. I'm David. I'm Russ DeWitt's lov--, I'm living with hi--, I'm a friend of the family and staying up at Russ's while I heal." Pastor Wilson was pointing at me and trying to find the right words. Luckily I've never had that problem. I just blurt out any old thing as long as I can keep that taste of foot in my mouth. "You're, you're the one that got blown up and into the river! Hey, Joey, this is that young man that flew into the river after the explosion at the Renton cabin! You are very, very fortunate young man. You should have been practicing your harp after that. The good Lord must have a purpose for you on Earth yet, son." Seemed kind of strange to hear this young man calling me his son, but I guess that goes along with the collar. "Well, pastor, I . . ." "Mike. Please call me Mike or Pastor Mike." "Uh, okay. Pastor Mike, I never thought about what the Lord had in store for me." I was trying to be polite but I didn't want to get into a religious talk. "Son, there must be something that you have yet to do before He has it in His mind to free you from your earthly bonds; a task that is waiting out there somewhere." He put his hand on my shoulder and turned to stretch out the other hand to motion to 'somewhere', very dramatically. He had a distant look on his face like he was waiting to be given some prophecy or something. "Sir, Pastor Mike. I sure do appreciate knowing that because, if I ever find out what that task may be, I'm staying as far away from it as I can, that's for sure. I wanna stick around some. I'm young!" It took Pastor Mike about five seconds to realize what I'd just said as honestly as I knew how. Then he did a double take and started laughing as hard as I have ever seen a person laugh. As he did, a young man about my age or younger came up to him and waited while Pastor Mike calmed down enough to tell him what just transpired. That put them both into a fit of hysterics. I was a little embarrassed but I was glad they were happy instead of trying to exorcise me or something. Pastor Mike started slapping me on the shoulder until they both finally regained some composure. "Son, I will have to remember that one. I promise you I will never use it in a sermon, though." They both guffawed a bit as I waited in my respectful and innocent way. Soon enough I was introduced to the young man, Joey, who was an assistant or something at the church. They gathered the men and began giving them assignments and tools from the van. They must have met with Russ and were given detailed instructions. After the work started, Pastor Wilson said he'd return with lunches at noon and see how things were going. Then he was off. Joey was beside me as we worked and kept the other guys busy with new places to work. Four of the men weren't men, yet. They couldn't have been my age. It was kind of sad to think that the work before them was their only means of support, but I was glad we could provide something for them. Joey started talking about his beloved pastor and the work he was doing for the community. "You have no idea what a godsend that man is, David." He never looked up; he just kept working as hard as anyone there. "That man would give you his shirt off of his back without a question asked. He did for me." "He what? He did what for you? His shirt off of his back?" I was sweating and my arms were tiring, but this kid was gung-ho to keep at it. We'd been working for about an hour and a half when a young man, boy really, went to a huge water carrier and brought back papers water cups and, thank God, we stopped to enjoy the cool liquid. I took off my shirt and looked up to notice that most of the guys had removed theirs, too. Soon, Joey took his off. His upper body was very well defined and was as smooth as silk until he turned so that his back was toward me. I was shocked at what I saw. I wanted to know if the reason Pastor Mike had given him a shirt was because his shirt had been whipped to a bloody rag. I must have looked the way I felt just then; sick! "Yeah, well, you can see that I was in some need when Mike, uh, Pastor Mike found me. I won't bore you with the details but he nursed me back to health after I was released from the hospital. Whew! What was that nurse's name?" "Nurse O'Hara!" we both shouted simultaneously. He looked at me and we both had a good laugh. His eyes questioned me so I pulled my shorts down enough to show him my scarring and he nodded his understanding. He started to reach over to touch my hip when my shorts snapped up. He jumped back and a half of a laugh escaped him. "I was discharged almost a week ago. She is quite a lady, isn't she?" I said as her memory put a smile on my face. "Boy. I'll say; and quite understanding. She even let Mike, uh, Pastor Mike stay all night, ah, a couple of times; just for my wellbeing you understand." He was beginning to blush and he looked away like he had said too much. I walked over to him and turned him to me. His head was down, too embarrassed to look me in the eyes. I could see that he couldn't have been more than nineteen, if that. He was as handsome as his, well, his partner, I'm sure. I lifted his chin to see his eyes but he dropped his head again, when I moved my hand. "Joey, I know what you mean about someone staying with you. I had my little savior with me pretty much the whole time I was healing. I don't think my recovery would have been quite so quick if it hadn't been for him. But I sure didn't have the injuries that you had. I'm glad that Mike found you and cares about you the way that he does. You deserve a, well, a friend in your life who loves you deeply." Joey's head flew up to look into my eyes. His was a look of shock, of fear of being discovered, I guess. Mine was a look of concern but compassion for what he had gone through. "Oh! You don't think...Me and Mike aren't!" "Hey, Joey! It's okay. It doesn't matter what I think. It matters to me that someone loves you enough to be there for you and you for him. That's what's important. I just found out how important that meant to me too. I want you to know I'm glad that you have Mike in your life." His look didn't change for what seemed like quite awhile. How could someone freeze in that heat? Then, relief seemed to sweep over him like a forest fire, igniting a smile that was as warming as any DeWitt could have pulled off. He looked around first, then he leaned up to my ear and said, "Thanks, David. I, well, sometime maybe we could compare notes?" And then he kissed me on the cheek. So I blushed. By this time the young water bearer and three other young workers were standing around, gawking and giggling at what was going on. The other, older guys were off a ways, completely oblivious to what was happening. As Joey turned to return to his work I cringed when his back came into view. It was striped with scars that looked like a whip could leave. There were smaller scars that must have been caused by some other inhumane instrument but mostly it was the whippings. They had healed up but on his young flesh they looked like they were fresh. I was no expert. It was then that I noticed small circles on the backs of his upper arms. There weren't many but there shouldn't have been any. I couldn't even think in the terms of how something like that could have happened, how someone could have so much hate to cause such pain. As the guys worked I got to move among them and joke and talk more and more. Mostly, it was the younger guys; the older scruffy bunch was a ways away grumbling continually. It was nice to just shoot the breeze, even if it was getting hotter and the water breaks were closer together. Soon the water ran out and we had a problem. We still had an hour to go until noon. I had no idea when Russ and Sam would return but we needed water immediately. "Come on, Kid!" "James!" "No! Call me David. It's my name." He was getting a little perturbed at what I would call humor and what he would call a reason to sock me. "I'm kiddin' you, James. I'm warped and hot and thirsty. Let's go lookin' for some fresh water. We're gonna start knocking on doors if we have to." James, I found out, was a sixteen year old that was 'seeing the country' when his money ran out in West Fork and the county mounties were about to incarcerate him for breathing their air. Something else must have happened along the way too, because it looked like his lip was healing from being split and his right eye still had some purple around it. Ow! Once again, Pastor Mike to the rescue. By the grace of his Employer, he was at the right place at the right time. James had been in his program for about a week. He was young and eager to please. No one asked him his story; why he wasn't finishing the school year. Mike and Joey just helped him stay out of the way of the authorities and were helping him find a job. So, he and I gathered up that huge cooler and started to walk over to the old gas station. Then it hit me; duh! "Wait, James," I said to my young, new friend, "This way." I turned into the mass of greenery and scattered junk and headed toward the house I knew was back there, somewhere. I looked over at the boy next to me to admire his youth and his form. His bronzed, tanned skin glistened from his work and the heat that was building. He had a certain Latin look to him, but especially his eyes, that made them deep and alluring. I caught myself being suck into them until I shook my head. I would have sworn his hair was black if I hadn't seen it in the sun light. That gave it highlights of auburn amidst the long, dark curls. It was very intoxicating. I went on to admire his broadening shoulders that narrowed to a slim, formed waist that tried to hold up shorts that looked like they may go at any minute. Then I tripped over a root or something and I looked up to see James blushing at me, his eyes just coming up from my waist. He had a nice smile on his face. Another minute was all it took as we rounded a patch of tall bushes and stood before nothing more than a shack, really. Oh, it had been a fine house at one time, but lack of care and lots of weather had worn it down to a pile of really bad lumber, with a door and windows. But at the side was a spigot and hose and we soon had our water running into the canister. "So James, how come you're not in school for the next month?" We'd been laughing and joking. He had a great sense of humor and could keep up with my sick one, when he finally realized my kind of humor. But that question put a look of concern on his face which he turned away from me to hide. "Hey, hey, guy. I didn't mean to pry. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I was just curious. Rewind to your last joke and let's start over." Luckily, that got him to turn back toward me and, even though his head was down slightly, he had his smile back. He took the few steps back toward me and looked up. "Everyone's been really nice to me, David. I suppose I should be more grateful. I guess I just need to keep going on my way. I don't want to be a bother to anyone." I put my hand on his wet shoulder and felt him shudder, so I removed it. "James, no one said anything about being a bother. First, you've got to understand that if I don't have my foot in my mouth on a regular basis, I start feeling this craving for leather. . ." We both looked down at my shoed feet. "Okay, sneakers. I've also learned in the last week to take the time to care more about the people around me, than just myself, and I like the feelings that doing that gives me." It was funny. He looked straight into my face and let out a big sigh. I was wondering what it could have meant when he got shy on me again and turned away. I remembered me at that age and realized that no one was going to dip into his world without his permission. The sound that turned him around again was the water overflowing the cooler. Now we had to figure out how to take it back to the parched group of guys. Ah-Hah! "James, start around that side and I'll go this way. I think we may find a wheelbarrow with my name on it." He gave me a patented look like I was crazy but I'd learned days ago to just shrug and keep going. * * * Most of the water was gone shortly after we'd returned. As the guys began to work again, I sent James back for more water with the wheelbarrow that had helped Grant deliver me a week or so ago. As he was returning, so was everyone else. The yellow church van, the dodger and a huge gleaming red Dodge pickup with those two sets of doors on either side. It wasn't brand new but it sure was pretty. Sam got out and looked a little straighter, a little taller for having his own vehicle again. Russ came up beside him and clamped his hand on his shoulder, a big smile on his proud face. They walked over to Pastor Mike when they noticed him pull up and were talking and walking with him. I was getting tired so I just leaned against the wire rake I had been using and watched them interact. It was obvious that Russ was the connection between the two groups and seemed to be introducing Sam to Pastor Mike and Joey. Everyone began to gather about Pastor Mike as soon as they heard that he had brought back lunch. After saying a nice blessing he distributed the food to the workers. Sam was impressed at the work that they had done thus far and mentioned that a truck would be there in the morning to start carting the debris away. I guess the plan was that it would take most of the week to dig out the junk to get the place looking half way decent before moving on to the remodel. Of course, there was no lunch for me, I mean, Russ, Sam and me. We would eat after we picked up the boys. And as we discussed that and that Russ was going to pick up little Dustin, a big, yellow school bus roared up and stopped. Out of it came a dozen kids, all laughing and talking as fast as they could. Soon some of the kids were picked up by parents. But one young boy fairly stomped off the bus, almost ignoring all the lively banter between the others. When they called to him to say goodbye, like they had all known him for years, he just waved behind him, without looking, and walked over by us, then turned away to pout about something. I was curious as to what was going on. Russ had left for Dustin and Sam was pointing things out to Pastor Mike and Joey, unaware of Grant's attitude. Grant had wandered a bit close to us though not quite to where we were and never even looked up. He had a look of disgust on his face and slunk like he couldn't bear anymore. . . something. I started to wander over to him but Joey had moved away from the others and caught my arm. "Good lookin' kid, David. Is that Russ' grandchild, uh, Sam's kid?" "Oh, you mean the one with the chip? Yeah, that's the one. First half day of school and he's already got something going. I need to find out what's up." I looked at Joey with some concern evidently, because he slapped me on the shoulder and mouthed, 'good luck' as I turned back to my guy. "Hard day at the office, little man?" I called out as he was still fifteen feet from me. "Oh, it was okay I guess. I never knew being so popular could be so tiring. Hm-m-m." Well, that sigh had nothing to do with the kind of sigh he usually gave me. This one was an overwhelmed, almost aggravated sigh. "Grant, are you going to be okay? What happened? Was someone mean to you?" I began to walk slowly toward him but he wasn't looking up, he wasn't even acknowledging anyone's presence. There were still two of the kids there, at the bus stop, waiting for rides, I guess, but they were too busy talking to each other. "No, well, maybe this one girl in my homeroom class. She sat behind me and bugged me most of the time until someone told her I was Russ' grandkid. Humph!" That didn't sound good. Not the 'bugging' part; the 'grandkid' part. "Then, all of a sudden she was all over me being all nice and apologetic for the way she treated me. I guess she's Brian's girlfriend or something." As he said the girlfriend of Brian part he turned and pointed to the rather large, older kid that was still standing over by the bus stop. When he did that, Brian and the other kid looked up and waved and then kind of shied away, talking quietly to themselves. Hah! It wasn't until Grant turned toward them that I realized why they were a little withdrawn. Remember that Grant's hair, as well as mine, had grown to some length, reaching almost half way down his neck. It was so fine and luxurious that no one wanted to have it cut even though we'd, well, Sam, Russ and I had discussed how it could prove embarrassing to Grant at school. Well, that was a premonition of what had happened and what I was staring at now. It also answered the question of why this nice little girl was so apologetic to Grant. At the back of Grant's neck was a gap of hair about two inches wide and two inches high into his golden locks. He had swung back around and evidently didn't know what had happened. He just stood there with his head down. I guess it didn't quite sink into me that, if he didn't know about his haircut, then there must have been something else bugging him, big time. I'd never seen him like this; certainly, not very often. It just wasn't his character; not the bubbling little boy I'd come to cherish. So, as he turned back toward me and looked down, I looked over him toward the boys with daggers coming out of fiery eyes. When they saw my reaction, they looked at me with just the right amount of terror that I'd hoped. I was a bit pissed, though it was kind of hard to not laugh at the scene of the event that had played in my imagination. It was certainly a bold act on the young lady's part. One that would take some effort to keep from Grant as we got him to a barber that could take care of him. The bigger of the two boys, Brian, was waving a big 'no' to me and pointing to him and the brat standing by him. I remembered how enamored he had been of Grant when he'd found out who his granddad was. I shook my head in disgust at them and walked over to where Grant was sulking. I heard a gasp behind me and looked to see James with his hand over his mouth and his eyes peaking over it as wide as possible, obviously just having noticed the styling trick that a young lady had bestowed on an unsuspecting victim. "Grant, what's the big deal? It sounds like everyone was really glad to know you and wanted to be friends within the first minute of knowing you. What's the problem with that?" Grant slowly raised his head and was about to answer me when we all heard that familiar drone coming from some distance, quickly turning into the old dodger with a Russ driving and a Dustin looking over the dashboard until the beast stopped and Dustin jumped out and ran toward us. Russ made his way over too. I noticed his eyes grow some as he saw Grant's new neckline. He looked up at me with wonder in those eyes and I tried to wave them both down before they could ruin Grant's day any further. But I guess I didn't catch Dustin's eye quick enough. "Wow! What happened, Grant?" Luckily, Grant had turned toward them and didn't see my frantic waving at the two as they got closer. "He had a bummer day and I was just asking him about it because it wasn't OBVIOUS to me what had happened." Now, that was hardly subtle, in fact, even Grant turned and looked at me like I was out of my mind. Well, I was used to that lately. His being upset, I didn't want him to have to endure for another minute. "Grant, it sure looked like you got on that bus with a lot of instant friends. What could have happened to change all that in four hours?" Russ said with great tact and restraint until, "You get caught in a windmill or something?" And all three of us turned on him with eyes of various stages and emotions. Mine were those dagger eyes. Dustin's were just kind of laughing with his mouth agape at Russ' observation. Grant's were much like mine, like he wanted to cut through him to his heart. That scared me. I had never seen any look on Grant's eyes toward his grampa that was less than total awe and devotion; with pure love in them. This was not that look and Russ was quick to notice. "Hey! What did I do to deserve that look? I didn't throw you on that bus. What happened to that excited boy of mine that got on the bus?" Grant snapped his head back up to look at Russ once more before he ran off toward the house some yards back in the woods. As I turned and started walking toward him, I heard Dustin call out, "James? James, is that you?" I didn't wait around to find out what that was all about except to see Dustin run up, jump into the arms of our water carrier and give him a great big hug. But I quickly passed too far into the shrubs and bushes to see anything more. "Grant! Grant! Will you please tell me what's going on?" I started around one side of what used to be his home, hoping to find him right behind it somewhere. I found an old door partly opened that wasn't before. Not again! Patience, David. He's just a little boy, trying to handle many new experiences and emotions. I just hoped there was some way I could get a list each morning of what to expect each day. Or, better yet, a menu to choose from. That's it. "Grant? Ew! What is that smell?" I'd stepped through the door into what must be the kitchen. "Sorry. I farted." Well, nothing's changed in some ways. I followed the voice to the end of the hall past the kitchen. I peered in the two doors I'd passed by; bedrooms I'm sure. There was a door at the end of the hall so I looked in there too. "Hey! Excuse me! A little privacy so I can finish going, please!" "Sorry," I said, stepping back and closing the door. "I was really concerned when you took off. I didn't realize you ran off to poop." I leaned against the wall and tried not to laugh. "Yeah. Well, I didn't need to until I got closer; then I had to, so there," he grunted, more from his duty than from his being upset. "So, just go back to Dad and Dustin and Mr. Famous and let me poop in peace." Even he chuckled at how that came out. There was a snicker in my voice, as hard as I tried to get serious, as I said, "I was concerned, okay. Grant, I can't stand thinking anyone or anything has hurt you. I . . . Hey! Who's Mr. Fam . . . oh. You mean your grampa, huh?" I heard his 'Humfph" come from the other side of the door and toilet paper coming off of the roll. "Grant, do you really think that when your grampa did those things, he thought it would be great to ruin the life of his only and most beloved grandchild? Do you really think Russ, uh, your grampa even has that in him to do? 'Cause if you do, you don't even know the man I know." "Yeah! Well, you only known him for a day so what do you know, smarty know-it-all!" he fairly shouted through the door. "Yeah! Well, yourself! Mr....uh, other smarty know-it-all (Leave it to me to come back with something clever). You've known him less time than me really, huh? So, there!" I'd moved to where my forehead was just touching the door like I could have blown it down. Actually, it gave me a chill as it reminded me of another door I'd been leaning against several days before, in just the same way, only I wasn't doing the blowing that time. I really had no anger in me, just concern and I was being more comical then willing to take this too seriously. I heard a flush and the door opened. Grant jumped back when he saw me so close and put a hand on his heart. He gasped and let out a big sigh, but as I started to laugh and he tried to, it came out with tears and soon turned into sobbing. As he started to melt to the floor, the dirty floor, I grabbed him in my arms and held him close, setting his butt on the edge of the sink behind him. He just sobbed for a minute and then pushed me back a little to look at me. "I just wanted to be liked and make new friends. But David, it was like he went ahead and bought them for me; their friendship, I mean. Every time that big kid Brian saw me in the hall or after school, he told the closest people to him who I was. Even Linda Sue Warner got sick of hearing it." He was just about to take my face in his hands when I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes. "What?" "Did you wash your hands yet?" He melted again and sobbed. Good timing, asshole. You want to take his guy into your mouth or wherever to love him and you're worried about your own sanitation when you should be worried about your own sanity! "Grant. I'm sorry. You know me. Open mouth," and we both said at the same time, "Insert foot!" He did chuckle a little and pushed me away so he could get down from the sink, turn around and wash. "You've got to go back there and not only apologize to your grampa but also talk to him and your dad about your feelings." "But, I just told you!" he whined, looking over his shoulder at me. He couldn't use the mirror. It was too dirty and cracked. "Yeah, well no 'buts', butt! You probably hurt him and he doesn't even know why." We walked back without talking. His head was down as he approached his family. Most everyone was still working and Sam and Russ turned from talking to Pastor Mike to watch Grant come up to them. Dustin was sitting in the dirt, playing with two sticks. He too looked up at our approach. Sam walked over and knelt on front of Grant. "We were hoping you'd had a good first day, Grant. Did something go wrong?" I think Grant realized how silly he was being in a way. He looked pretty embarrassed. "I was being a butthead, is all. I knew how much fun it would be to make friends but it was like they were already my friends before I got there." As Grant said that he looked up at his grampa. "I never knew Grampa was so famous here, Dad. They all liked me because they liked Grampa." He did pretty well, holding back his tears. "Sorry, Grampa. I was a butthead." Russ had made his way over to us by then and scooped up the ten year old in his arms. "Yeah. Maybe. But you're my butthead." That broke the ice. Everyone laughed after realizing that Grant thought it was funny too. He fell back in his grampa's arms, almost wedging himself out of them, until it gave Russ a good target to tickle his belly. Grant was whooping and laughing and Dustin was jumping around under them to get in on the action. Soon Russ let Grant drop to his feet. "Grampa, those guys really love what you did for them. What made you do it?" Russ slapped his forehead as he told Grant, "Must have been some kind of lapse or somethin', youngun'. That's all I can think of." "Grampa! Was not! Tell me why?" Grant was pulling on Russ' arm and whining like he can get. "For you, Grant; for you and your daddy. I have never not loved you; I think even as much as this week I've always loved you both. If I built that diamond out there, I thought maybe I could see you just a bit more. Maybe I could see my son coach my grandson and see them laugh together and do that 'high hand' thing, oh, high five. I didn't know that someone would come along and whip us into shape, well, that is, into the shape of a family." Yeah, he looked over at me. I really didn't do that much. I spoke up, "You guys were always a family; just not talking, not being yourselves. You were too caught up in what you thought was aimed at you instead of what you were aiming at others. You never heard what he said or wanted to try to understand him; just ignore him and, and . . . ." I caught myself seeking a way back to reality. My mind had gone off somewhere. I looked up to see that perpetual look on the faces of everyone when they looked at me lately, each of whom was staring at me. It was Pastor Mike that asked, "You're not talking about these gentlemen, are you David? You're talking about you." "Well I, I could have, yeah but . . . ." I was confused. But at least he didn't get it out of my mind. Hah! There was nothing left there to be got! My head was beginning to hurt. "Hey guys. We need to do one more errand, then take David home to rest. He's still recovering," said Russ, putting his arm around me. With Grant's help we started to move toward the trucks, "Then we need to get Petey and go see someone's mom and dad, huh, Dustin?" "Yes siree, Grampa Russ. Yes sir." "What's the errand, Grampa?" Grant was beside me and we were leading the troops. "Oh. I was thinkin' it was about time you and David got that long hair chopped off so's your scalp can breathe again. Why, no one even suspects you got a neck under there, Grant." Grant blushed and everyone else laughed. But it was nothing like the blush he would have experienced if he had known the truth about his neck showing. I don't know if he ever found out, to tell the truth. "See ya tomorrow, Grant!" called Brian, as he began walking toward the bridge and his home, evidently. I was glad that Grant was able to wave and smile at HIS new friend. NTLFG - The End of Chapter Eighteen To be continued Comments on the story are very much appreciated. Thank you for the emails you've written. Each one is an encouragement. I'm Matthew Templar at matemp1148@yahoo.com