Mentoring

Mentoring, Chapter 8

The new gay/straight alliance got a lot of recognition in a very short time. The members were given credit in the children's theater program notes for their contribution in making scenery and props. That reached an audience outside of the school – namely parents and grandparents of elementary kids.

Community reaction varied. Most people didn't take a lot of notice. Some thought it was a positive step toward acceptance of everyone. A few took it as another sign the world was going to hell in a hand-car.

Their biggest impact at school was achieved through the dance. Attendance was at least as large as the homecoming one had been. Kids like Harry Hardic, who didn't really understand the "queer" attraction, attended the event and had fun. Amazingly, there was little in the way of homophobic behavior or asides made toward gay kids.

Of course, many of the students in the organization were straight. Of those who weren't, Vin and Caen were among the few who were out and proud. They had the respect of their peers, partly because of their martial arts training. It was highly unlikely anyone would bother them.

Several others were presumed to be gay but since they didn't exhibit any stereotypical signs, no one picked on them either.

There was one incident in which a couple of older students were off in a corner with Travis and Sawyer. It looked like they might be hassling the two sophomores, and Dr. Dickinson was on her way over to take care of the situation. However, Harry got there ahead of her and told the guys to lay off. Few would dare to cross him.

Travis felt like he had a guardian. Harry had come to his rescue again.

Of the school staff who were present at the event, Neil was perhaps the most pleased with the outcome. His guys hadn't let him down. He'd had a relatively minor role in the affair. They had done all the "heavy lifting."

As one of the chaperones, Aidan got to see the results first-hand too. Once again, he was proud of his partner and former mentee.

Later that night, they celebrated in bed.

On a Friday, shortly before Thanksgiving, Harry's father, Dick, found out somehow that Harry had attended a school event sponsored by "fairies." To say the least, he was upset. "Everyone" knew the "gay agenda" was to convert others to be like them. He was going to set his son straight.

"Me and your uncle are going out for a few beers. When we get back, we're gonna have a little talk with you about the people you're hanging out with. You'd better not hide in your room with the door locked because if you do, I'll break it down and you'll pay for a new one, understood?"

Harry understood all to well what might happen to him. He was sure to end up with bruises, if not broken bones. He was a tough kid, but the odds of two against one weren't good, even if the two would be three sheets to the wind. He didn't have anyone he could go to. His mother, Beth, was a petite woman, and powerless against her husband. Grandpa Red would likely hold him down while the others punched him. He was at his wits' end.

Finally, his problem-solving skills kicked in and he got a sleeping bag and a cooler with some food and packed them into his pickup. He could probably park down near the boat ramp by the river and sleep in his vehicle. His father would be furious with him for not being home, but he would be easier to reason with hung-over than roaring drunk.

The area wasn't heavily patrolled in cold weather, but as luck would have it, a cop checked that evening and told Harry he couldn't spend the night there. So, he drove around looking for another spot. He wasn't sure where he'd be safe. The Walmart parking lot used to be a good spot for vehicles to park overnight. Lately, after the shooting which left one man dead and another in critical condition, it was no longer desirable.

Finally, he settled on a quiet residential area. There were a few cars parked on the street and his truck was respectable enough to fit in. He would need to keep his head down most of the time, or he'd get turned in as a suspicious person. He switched on the interior light for a few minutes to make up his nest. In that brief time, he was spotted by a boy looking out his upstairs bedroom window.

"Dad, there's a guy in his pickup out in front, and I know him. He's the dude who rescued me when my bike went in the ditch."

"Are you sure? What would he be doing here at this time of night? Do you think he's casing the neighborhood?"

"I'm sure he's not a thief. I'm gonna put on sweats and go find out."

"I don't know if that's safe. Let me get dressed and I'll go with you."

Harry was starting to nod off when he was startled by someone rapping on his window. In the pale illumination from the streetlight, he recognized Travis. He put the key in the ignition to roll down the window.

"Hey, were you planning to sleep out here?" Travis asked, before Harry could think of anything to say.

"Um, yeah, I had a little disagreement with my dad. I'll move on."

"It's going to get cold out tonight, why don't you come inside," Kyle Britton invited.

"You shouldn't let a stranger in your house," Harry frowned.

"You're not a complete stranger. My son says you're okay and that's good enough for me."

"I have twin beds in my room. You could bunk with me," Travis offered.

"I don't know..." Harry stalled.

"There's a guest room you can have all to yourself," Kyle said. "Pull your truck into the driveway so the neighbors won't call it in. If you park on the left side, it won't block my car."

"Uh, well, okay. Um, thanks."

"We're about to have popcorn for a bedtime snack." Kyle mentioned. "I hope you like it, or I can make you something else."

The promise of a warm bed and a bowl of Harry's favorite snack broke down the last atom of resistance in his body. He hoped he could keep this a secret from his dad, so he wouldn't pay double.

Harry woke up a little disoriented in the gray light of the November dawn. As his head cleared, he remembered his situation. He could barely make out the features of the skinny kid in the other twin bed.

Travis looked fragile and vulnerable, like a stray animal. Harry felt protective of him, and had, from the first time he'd laid eyes on the kid. It all seemed out of character. He must be going soft.

As he got out of bed to relieve his bladder, his dick was anything but soft. He didn't want to make a show of his bulge. However, it wasn't likely to go down until it was drained. Therefore, he rushed across the hall as quickly as possible, just as his adult host came from the master bedroom.

Kyle wasn't the only one impressed. Travis had been awake and squinting through the slits between his eyelids. He was awe-struck!

Over a hot breakfast, Harry found himself thanking Kyle and his son effusively for giving him a place to sleep.

"Hey, what goes around, comes around," Kyle insisted. "From what Travis has told me, you've saved his butt more than once."

To Harry, it was almost like he'd rescued a dog who'd turned around and saved him in his hour of need. He wasn't used to receiving praise for his actions, much less reward. He looked at the floor and blushed.

To cover his embarrassment, he pulled out his phone to check his messages. He'd kept it off from the moment he'd left his house, fearing that his dad might be able to trace his whereabouts. There were several texts from his mother – some marked "urgent."

"I'd better call Mom," he exclaimed as he stepped out of the room for more privacy.

He was gone for a few minutes and came back with several emotions playing across his face.

"My father's dead, and my uncle's on life-support!" he announced, shaking his head as if to clear it.

"I'm terribly sorry," Kyle said, putting an arm around the young man's shoulders.

Rather than shrug off the man's hand, as he would have in the past, Harry leaned into it.

"I'll be okay," he mumbled. "I know this sounds strange, but maybe it's best for Mom and me."

"Can I do anything? Take you somewhere?" Kyle offered.

"No, I'm okay to drive.

Harry left immediately, after thanking his hosts one more time.

"Uh, did you get some kinda weird vibes about his dad?" Travis asked.

"Yeah, it's almost like he's relieved that his father's dead. I wonder if he's been abused."

"You know I get mad at you sometimes, but I love you and I couldn't get along without you."

"I love you too," Kyle said tearing up a bit.

Father and son shared a nearly bone-crushing embrace before they cleaned up after breakfast.

When Harry got home, there were two policemen in the kitchen sitting at the table. Despite the circumstances, Beth Hardic had offered coffee and cinnamon rolls.

"I know this has to be difficult for you, but I have to ask," Sgt. Orr began. "Do you have anyone who can verify where you were last night between the hours of 10 PM and midnight? I understand you'd had a disagreement with your father earlier in the evening."

"I was with a friend and his father. They let me sleep at their house. I can give you their names. I'm not sure about the phone number or address, but I can get the info at school."

"So, you know nothing about what happened to your father?"

"Only that he's dead. You can look at the messages on my phone if you want," Harry offered.

"He and your uncle were at The Rut drinking a few beers – well, quite a few from what the bartender told us. They got into some kind of argument with two gay men. That was about 10:00. When they left an hour or so later, there was a ruckus in the parking lot. Several shots were fired. We don't have any suspects in custody. Some electrical problem affected the lights and prevented the security camera from working. We're assuming the guys they'd had the altercation with earlier might be involved. But, since there are no witnesses, we had to check on you too."

"Yeah, I get it. Dad and Barry are totally homophobic, um, were... They were going to work me over for being around gays at school. They probably saw a couple of men they thought were queer and took it out on them."

Beth shuddered at the reality of her son's words. She'd never witnessed punishment severe enough to be abusive, but she'd suspected. She should have left Richard years ago.

Harry read her thought and took her hand in his.

"It's okay, Mom. We're gonna be okay now."

The shooting outside the bar made the front page of Sunday's Gazette. It was greeted in the community with varying reactions. The Hardic name was known by many and esteemed by few. Local men in their 30's remembered being menaced by the brothers. More than one would have volunteered to unplug the machine which was keeping Barry alive at the moment.

Sunday night, Red Hardic came over uninvited to Beth's house with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

"We're gonna have a little Irish wake in honor of Dick," he announced. The three of us will finish off this bottle and get roaring drunk. It's only right."

"I'm not going to allow you to get my son drunk," Beth yelled, with uncharacteristic fury.

"You'll do as I say, woman!"

"No, I won't. I'll call the police, and have you removed. You'll not corrupt my boy the way you did yours. I'll not have it!"

Red made a threatening move toward her but quickly found himself on the floor. Harry had him pinned down.

"Well, you've finally grown some balls," Red laughed. "You've earned you liquor tonight."

"I've finally had enough of you, old man," Harry spat.

"Call the cops, Mom. I want this asshole out of our house for good!"

Staff and students alike were surprised to see Harry at school on Monday. In bygone days, he'd have looked for any excuse to miss. Today, he had very good reason not to show up, but he was there.

When Travis saw him in the foyer before classes, he saw a deep hurt in his eyes. In keeping with his characteristically impulsive nature, Travis put his arms around the bigger boy and hugged him tightly. Kids in the area, who had known Harry most of their lives, held their breath waiting for the fallout.

What they saw were tears in Harry's eyes as he held the slender boy tightly to his chest.

"Thanks, Bud. I hated my father and I'm not sorry he's gone, but I feel guilty. It's so complicated."

"I understand. I feel the same about my mother. Believe me, I have an idea of what you're going through."

"Wow! Can we talk? Could I join you and your guy-friend for lunch?"

"Sure!"

"Mr. Fiala, could Harry Hardic join karate club?"

"He'd be welcome if he wants to come. In the past, he didn't want to mix with some of the types who are members."

"Kinda like me, huh?"

"I guess so. How did you become my best recruiter for the club?"

"It's taught me discipline and compassion. And, you've helped me change my life. I think Harry could use some of those things."

"Does he feel the same, or did you push him?"

"Oh, I might have had one foot in his back, but he really wants to do it. I know he comes on like a bully sometimes. A lot of it's a cover-up for being shy. It's how he was raised."

"I think I understand. Please tell him he's welcome."

On Tuesday, after first hour, Harry came to Aidan's room, looking nervous.

"Um, uh, Travis said you said I could come to karate this afternoon. I know I acted stupid about it before, but I've grown up a lot. Are you okay with me being there?"

"Sure, Harry, if we got banned from stuff because we might have acted `stupid' when we were 15, most of us wouldn't have a reason to leave the house."

"Thanks, um, and another thing, could you call me Harrison?' Mom's gonna let me officially change it. It was kinda sadistic of my father to insist I be named something that sounds like hairy, hard dick," he blushed. "I'm gonna change my last name to `Hardwick' too. She found out part of our family tree on Ancestry uses that spelling. She thinks it got messed up when my great-grandpa came through Elis Island as an orphan."

"I can see your point. It's nice to meet you, Harrison Hardwick. If I slip, please correct me," Aidan said as he shook the boy's hand.

"Thanks!"

Beth Hardic didn't have a memorial service of any kind for her late husband. She had him cremated, and, though it was no doubt illegal, she used the ashes for traction on her icy driveway in late November.

She had no say over her brother-in-law, Barry. His father wanted to keep him on the machine, despite the fact there was no brain activity, in hopes of a medical miracle. Eventually, the plug was pulled, and he was pronounced dead.

Red Hardic made Barry's wake and burial major events, spending money he could ill afford on an expensive coffin and loads of flowers. Practically no one came to either, other than a few of his cronies who'd heard there'd be whiskey at the wake. Beth and Harrison stayed away.

Author's notes: Thanks to David and Tom who edited. If you find errors, it's likely because I sometimes make last-minute changes before posting.

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Last, but not least, thanks to my faithful readers who have emailed recently. Your appreciation keeps me writing. The list this week includes: Ott H, Cary, Skip M, Gordon, JLF, Tim T, Bill K, Hotrod, Tony C, Bill T, John L, Joe W, Johnny R, Tom A, Paul R, Jim W, Lance C, and Paul F. Your comments are my only reward.

Thanks again,

David