Summer House – 1 Author: Elsarose Plot bunny and collaborator: Judy Uhrich The shouting and banging could be heard all the way down the street. It was a Saturday night and the noise was so common it didn’t bring anyone to their doors and windows. They had their own problems to deal with. There was no point in worrying about something that wouldn’t change. Bob Jacobs winced at the sound of a fist hitting flesh. He stood up. He’d been sitting in the shadows of his ivy covered front porch. The night had been warm, and he liked to relax after a hard days work, sitting on the swing he’d made for his bride so many years ago. The swing was still there, but his wife had passed away almost fifteen years before. About to go into his house, he thought he saw a shadow figure run under the deep red leafed Japanese Maple. Its branches, thick with leaves, hung to the ground creating a perfect cave like hiding place for neighborhood cats. Or in this case, two terrified children. Bob knew that it had to be the Kinney kids. Jack Kinney’s bellows could be heard as he slammed around the small house down the street in a drunken rage. Like feral cats, the children couldn’t be approached easily. They’d only run and maybe this time they’d run somewhere not safe. Bob stood beside the tree and said in a quiet voice that would be heard only by the two children. “The porch is hidden from prying eyes and there’s a might soft swing on it. I baked peanut butter cookies today and I’m pretty sure I have some cold fresh milk. I’m going inside to see what I can wrestle up. I sure wish I had a couple of kids to help me get rid of all these cookies.” With that said, he turned and walked up the steps and into the house. “Is he gone?” Brian asked his sister. He buried his face in her sweater. He was six and learning fast to stay out of his father’s way, especially on Saturday nights. “It’s okay Brian.” She rubbed comforting circles on his back. She felt a thousand years old, yet she was only ten. Claire didn’t understand why her father hated her little brother. She’d had to guard him from the time he was born. He was a tender hearted little boy, though Jack Kinney had done his best to change that. “We can stay here or go up on Mr. Jacob’s porch. He’s really nice. He fixed Mrs. Jenson’s steps and didn’t charge her any money.” “Mrs. Jenson is a hundred and three years old.” Brian was solemn. He was rather frightened of the old woman who lived across the street from his house. “She has a million and two cats and she smells funny.” Claire giggled; her brother was always so funny. He always made her laugh even when he was scared. “I don’t think Mrs. Jenson is that old. Mom said she used to teach school when she was a girl.” “Mom was never a girl, she’s just a bitch.” “Brian Kinney, don’t say that about your mother.” Claire shook her head. But he had a point. “Let’s go have some cookies and milk.” “We’re not supposed to talk to the neighbors.” Brian’s voice was mutinous, but shaky. “Mr. Jacobs is nice, I won’t tell mom and dad if you don’t.” Claire started to crawl out from under the maple tree. “Come on.” “I don’t tell Da nuffin.” Brian clambered after his sister. Cautiously, the two of them crept through the shadows to the first step leading up to the comfort of darkness on Bob Jacobs’ porch. A crash of breaking glass followed by a bellow of rage, sent them scurrying up the stairs, lest their father appear to drag them back to the house. Lights flickered in living rooms up and down the street, as nosy neighbors peered out to see what Jack Kinney was up to. It was always the same. The watched and gossiped but they never did anything for the two children trapped in the hell that was the Kinney household. Sitting on a small table in the far corner of the wide porch, was a plate of cookies and two glasses of cold milk. Brian could see the beads of sweat on the glasses and his mouth watered. He couldn’t remember for sure when he’d seen so much milk in one glass, and cookies too. It wasn’t long before his mouth was filled with peanut butter cookies and sporting a thick milk mustache. When his stomach was satisfied, he looked around. Sitting on a nearby porch swing, was Mr. Jacobs. He had a cat on his knees, his hand stroking behind her ears. “Thank you for the cookies and milk.” Brian said. He liked to use his manners. His father never did and Brian was never going to be like him. EVER. “You’re very welcome.” “I like your cat.” Claire offered. “She has yellow eyes.” “Her name is Krissy, she’s a calico cat. That means a cat with lots of colors. She’s getting old, she’s the last cat left from the kittens my wife had.” “Where’s your wife?” Brian asked. “She’s been dead for almost fifteen years.” He looked sad. “That’s older than me.” Brian thought for a moment. “And older than Claire.” “It’s seems like yesterday we were moving into this house. It was my wife’s parent’s house. She grew up here.” “And now you live here all by yourself?” Claire asked. “Well, Krissy here lives with me.” Bob Jacobs said. “One day though, when I retire, I want to build me a summer house up on the lake.” He sighed. “But not yet. I’m not ready to leave this neighborhood yet.” “I wish I could leave here. I’d move a million zillion miles away.” Brian turned and glared at the house that was now strangely quiet, though every light appeared to be on. “I guess we’d better be going Mr. Jacobs.” Claire stood up, taking Brian by the hand. “If we don’t get in soon the door will be locked and we’ll have to sleep in the shed again.” Bob Jacobs winced at the knowledge of what these two children had to endure. “I’ll tell you what. See that path right over there?” he pointed to a pathway almost hidden by overgrown shrubs. “That path leads to a little house just about your size. I built it for my daughter. Inside the house there are two small beds with warm blankets. If you ever need a place to go, you two just come around and find your way to Jenna’s house. That was my daughter, she died with my wife. I know she’d love to share it with you.” The story was partially true. His Jenna was dead, dead to him thanks to the man she’d run away from home with. The fight that had taken place the night his wife died, was something he’d regret for the rest of his life. He’d searched everywhere, but had never seen or heard from his daughter again. “Is she an angel now?” Brian asked. “Cause I don’t think angels are real.” “Yes, she’s an angel now and just as real as you or me.” Bob ruffled Brian’s already unruly hair. “Can we see Jenna’s house even when it’s sunny outside and there’s no fighting?” Claire asked. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see something new in the dark. “Of course you can. I’m not always home. I build houses for a living and in the summer I work from sun up to sun down. But the gate is always open and Krissy cat, she’ll show you where to go.” “Thank you, Mr. Jacobs.” Brian mumbled again before being all but dragged back to his home by his sister. “Claire?” Brian whispered when they were huddled by their back door waiting to hear whether it was safe or not to go in and scurry up to their bedrooms. “Mr. Jacobs is nice.” “Yes.” She looked over the edge of the window set in the door. “Don’t tell about him. Or we’ll get into trouble.” “I don’t tell Da nuffin.” “Nothing, don’t tell him anything.” “You’re silly Claire, you mix up the words.” Brian liked his sister, but she talked funny sometimes. He was sure that when he could go to school all day, he’d learn big words like she knew. He could hardly wait. But now it was summer and school wouldn’t start for another two months. It was a long time to hang around, especially with his dad not working all the time. He hated the plant; it was always laying off and then his daddy was mean. He was never going to work at the plant, whatever that was. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ The summer of 1975 proved to be an interesting and enlightening one to a young Brian Kinney. He learned that it was possible for a man to work hard all day and have one bottle of beer, not eight or more. He learned that it didn’t matter if a man baked cookies or washed his own clothes, he was still a man. He learned how to hold a hammer and how to hit a nail. And that it was okay if it took five bent nails before one went in right. No one yelled or hit, only laughed and said it would all work out when he was older. His sister Claire and he spent many summer afternoons in Jenna’s house playing with the dolls and other toys that had been left there. They were different and funny, not what kids played with in his neighborhood, but they were fun because he and Claire could play without being afraid to laugh out loud. His dad was back at the plant and his mom spent every afternoon watching her shows in the living room with the drapes pulled closed and a cup of her special tea that came from a bottle kept at the back of the broom closet. She didn’t care where her son and daughter were, as long as she wasn’t bothered. “Bear?” Brian asked near the end of August. “Did you know that I’ll be going to school for a whole day soon. Not just a kindergarten day. I’m going to be in grade one.” Bob Jacobs, who now answered to Bear, having been given that name by Brian and Claire at the first of the summer, answered. “I know that. Are you excited?” “Kind of.” Brian admitted. “I can be away from my house for six whole hours, maybe even longer. Claire says that when you get to be older, you can join stuff like soccer and science clubs and even chess clubs. Then you get to stay at school longer, sometimes even go on a Saturday.” He and Bear were sitting on the back porch, a chess board between them. For his age, Brian was a good study when it came to the game and they’d been playing most evenings all summer. Claire lay sprawled on a pile of pillows, reading a book she’d found in Bear’s library. “Only geeks join the chess club.” She laughed. “Are you going to be a geek or a jock?” “What’s a jock?” Brian asked, not sure, he was only six, having had his birthday in June. “The jocks in school play sports and think they’re hot stuff.” Claire snorted. “They hang out with all the pretty girls and don’t talk to the rest of us except to be mean. The geeks hang out together and don’t talk to the pretty girls ‘cause they’d only get laughed at.” “That’s stupid.” Brian declared. “Isn’t that stupid, Bear?” “Yes, I have to agree. But you know, it was like that when I was a boy.” “Were you a jock?” Brian asked. “Cause you know how to play baseball and soccer and stuff, but you know how to play chess too.” “I was my own boy.” Bear laughed. “I decided early on that I wasn’t going to be classified by either little clique. That’s the word for people who hang out with each other and don’t talk to anyone else. I played sports and I belonged to the science club and the chess club. I took wood shop and I took math and science classes.” He smiled at Brian. “And one day the prettiest girl in the school asked me to a dance. She had dark curly hair that hung to her shoulders, ash grey eyes that sparkled with mischief and a smile to die for. I fell in love with her before she could even say hi.” “That was Jenna’s mom.” Brian grinned; he’d heard that part of the story before. “That was Jenna’s mom.” Bear smiled, his eyes filled with a combination of joy and sadness. “I’m going to be my own boy too.” Brian declared. “I will be the best at everything I do and to heck with everyone else.” He looked at Bear shyly. “I’m going to take wood shop when I get older too. Then I can help you build houses.” “And you shall. As soon as you’re old enough, I’ll hire you for the construction sites.” “How old do I have to be?” Brian asked. “Is seven old enough?” Bear and Claire both laughed. “No, I think maybe at least twelve. And we’d have to have your parent’s permission.” “They’d never let me.” Brian looked gloomy. “Sure they would.” Claire declared. “They let me baby sit ‘cause I make money when I do. Bear would pay you something, wouldn’t you Bear? Da likes it when his kids make money. But you have to hide it Bri, ‘cause Da takes it to buy beer with. I have a good hiding place now.” She ducked her head. “I hide it in Jenna’s house.” “Tell you what Claire, I’ll take off early from work tomorrow and we’ll go to the bank. You’re old enough to have your own savings account. You can put your money in the bank. No one can touch it except you.” “A real bank account.” She sighed. “That would be so cool.” And then she thought for a moment. “I’ll still have to keep the bank book at Jenna’s house though. Da is kind of not nice when he finds stuff like that.” Bob Jacobs didn’t like to go against a parent’s right to raise their children as they saw fit, but he couldn’t stand Jack Kinney and his sanctimonious wife Joan. They’d both done their best to harm their own children, one in the name of discipline and one in the name of the Lord. It wasn’t right. “I think that this one time, that will be a secret we should all keep to ourselves.” “I don’t tell Da, nothing.” Brian declared. “Check.” He said, moving his rook. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ “What are you doing?” Brian asked, it was almost Thanksgiving. He was sick to death of the whole thing. Everything at school seemed to screech to halt because of the day. Even Claire was excited about it though she knew that it would be hell at home. Claire said it might be different this year ‘cause Da was still working. “I’m going to bake a pie.” Bear was assembling everything he’d need to make a pumpkin pie. “Remember when we cooked up the jack o lantern after Halloween?” “Yeah, that was gross.” Brian shuddered at the remembrance. “Jimmy O’Brian smashed his on the road.” “Jimmy O’Brian wasted a perfectly good pumpkin. It isn’t right to waste food or anything else for that matter.” Bear looked at Brian. “You should remember that for when you are older and have more than you need. It’s better to share than to throw it away.” “More what than I need?” “More money, more food, more things. Never waste Brian, use what you need and don’t be afraid to share what you have with someone who has nothing.” Brian thought for a minute. “Okay, like you share your cookies with me and Claire. It makes us feel good. And you share Jenna’s house and you share sandwiches and you share chess and you share building stuff.” Bear laughed. “You’ve got the idea. It makes me feel good to share and it makes you and Claire feel good too. We all win.” “Okay, I’ll share stuff.” Brian looked satisfied. “My mom buys pumpkin pie at the grocery store.” “I like to make mine.” Bear. “It’s kind of like building a house, only this time I’m building a pie.” Brian giggled. “Can I help?” “Of course you can. I’m surprised Claire isn’t with you today.” “Oh she had to do homework and then she has to help mom clean the house. I cleaned my room. I even cleaned under the bed and that’s scary. I cleaned Claire’s room too, so she won’t have so many rooms to do. Da says cleaning house is woman’s work and real men don’t do stuff like that. I think real men do clean houses. You clean your house and you’re a real man. You drink beer and everything.” “That’s nice that you helped your sister.” Bob smiled. “I have to agree with you. A man isn’t defined by the chores he does around the house. I happen to like a clean and tidy house. I have two good hands; why shouldn’t I make sure my house is clean.” “I cleaned Jenna’s house too.” Brian smiled. “It’s my favorite place in the whole world.” “Jenna angel must be smiling down on you. Making it your favorite place.” “I bet she’s a nice angel.” Brian agreed. No one said anything about the boy’s fading bruises on his arm. Though Bob took note of them, not sure of what he was going to do, but determined to do something. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Bob Jacobs was a well-respected contractor in the city of Pittsburgh. His company was on the smaller side; he preferred to build family homes rather than large corporate structures. He did quality work and was dependable. The crew he employed had been with him from the beginning. And now their sons were starting to work for him. It made him proud. Since the Kinney kids had come into his life, all of the crew had noticed Bob was taking more of an interest in life. He’d all but shut down before, saying he might as well retire. Now he had found a reason to continue in Brian and Claire. Confiding in Zack his foreman, about Jack Kinney, was a big thing for Bob who had been raised to look after your own without asking for help. “Why don’t you let me look after this, Bob.” Zack said, clapping his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I promise you that Kinney will, if nothing else, feel what his son feels.” And that was the beginning of Jack Kinney mysteriously finding himself sporting similar injuries that he’d inflicted on his son. If Brian was seen with a black eye, then the next day Jack Kinney would have one. For out of nowhere, a fist would fly when he would least expect it. No words, no notice, just a fist in the eye, or a twist of his arm, or a kick to the ribs. No matter how hard Jack tried, he couldn’t find who was assaulting him. It was done by many different men, young ones and old ones, and never at normal times. He might be going to take a piss at the plant and find himself on the floor, swift kicks bruising his body. Or coming out of the seven eleven, a six pack in his hands, when a fist would connect with his jaw. It was driving him crazy. Almost a year went by before he began to connect that any injury Brian had would result in the same for himself. He watched Brian carefully, but the boy didn’t seem to have any idea what was going on. He even started to attend the soccer games the kid seemed to always have, hoping he’d see one of his attackers there. But the only familiar face was that of old man Jacobs who lived a few houses down. And it hadn’t been Jacobs attacking him. Brian didn’t know whether to be happy or scared that his father had begun attending his games. He’d learned to be wary where the man was concerned. He was almost eight years old now and growing taller, but still painfully thin. He spent a lot of time with Bear, who had become like a surrogate grandfather to him. Claire rarely went over there anymore since she’d discovered boys and boys had discovered her. Brian didn’t understand the attraction. Claire was a girl and frankly, girls were boring and smelled funny as far as he was concerned. “Hey Da, did you see the goal I got?” Brian asked, running up to his father after the game. “I saw the two you missed. You play like a fuckin’ girl.” Jack turned away. “I’m going to Clancy’s. See that you get home in time to take out the garbage and rake the leaves. He’d learned that he could hurt the kid with his words and didn’t end up beaten the next day. Brian’s face went blank. He refused to let anyone see how hurt he felt but anyone looking into the hazel eyes could see that and more. Hatred toward his father blazed for an instant before being replaced with loving affection as he glimpsed Bob. “Bear,” he said. “Hey there kiddo, that was some damn goal you got. I wish I had me a camera, that would have been a great one to capture.” “But I missed two other ones.” Brian said with dejection. “I don’t think so. I saw two other goals in the making that just weren’t ripe. Goals are like tomatoes, they don’t ripen all on the same day.” Brian giggled. “I’m a tomato.” “A damn skinny one, good thing I like skinny kids.” Bob laughed. “I get to make them pizza for dinner.” “Cool, pizza.” And then his face fell. “I gotta go home and rake the lawn and put out the garbage.” “No problem. I’ll have time to bake those brownies I was thinking about.” He grinned at Brian. “We might even persuade the princess to join us.” Claire had been declared a princess not too long ago by both Brian and Bear. “Claire likes brownies.” Brian’s eyes sparkled. “And pizza.” He got into Bob’s car, Bob always drove him home after a game. His father always let him walk and the soccer field was a long way from home. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ On Brian’s tenth birthday, he cautiously approached his friend. “Bear, I need to talk to you.” “Sure.” Bob was in the back yard fixing a wooden bench that had loosened in the winter snow. “You know how I’m an altar boy and stuff.” He’d hated that his mother was forcing him to do this. But it was easier to follow along than listen to her or feel the back of his father’s hand when he sided with his wife for once. “Well, is it true that you have to do anything a priest tells you do. Even dumb stuff.” “Dumb stuff, like what?” Bob asked, putting down his screw driver, his voice shaking, afraid to hear what Brian had to say. “Father Andrew said that all the good altar boys, the ones that get to go on the camp outs and stuff, he said that they let him touch their penises. Just to check them out and see if they’re okay.” “Did you let him?” Bob asked. “No fucking way.” Brian’s new word. “I ran out of there, but he’ll tell Ma and I’ll get into trouble. “Our teacher at school said you don’t let anyone touch your private parts. But Father Andrew is a priest and he says he does stuff God wants him to do.” “Father Andrew is a piece of work all right.” Bob muttered. “I think maybe I’ll have a little chat with the man. Now if you want some of the chicken salad I made, we could have lunch.” “Okay, I’ll bring out the ice tea.” Brian liked to help Bear. He felt strangely relieved talking to the man. For some reason he knew that Bear would take care of Father Andrew. The next day, Brian was setting the table for dinner while his mother chatted on the phone to one of her friends. “I’m sure I have no idea why Father Andrew left the parish so suddenly. He was working with the altar boys just the other day. Yes I agree, it’s rather mysterious. Helen said that when he left, his hands were in casts, that he’d had an accident and broken every one of his fingers. No doubt he was moving something heavy and it landed on his hands.” Brian thought to the heavy steel-toed work boots that he’d admired for years as Bear walked around in them. Those boots could stomp on spiders and big bugs and squash them flat. He wondered for a moment if they could stomp on fingers, fingers that shouldn’t be touching things and if they too, were squashed flat. He grinned to himself. Bear always made sure he was okay. He was the best kind of grandfather to have. Better than the best. “What are you grinning about, sonny boy?” his father asked, his voice harsh. “Get me a fucking beer and make it snappy. The plant was hell today.” Brian could only wish that it was hell, as he quickly did his father’s bidding. “I hear that pansy assed priest Andrew got run out of town.” Jack snorted after he’d drained half the bottle of beer. “Stupid fucker probably got caught with his pants down once too often.” Joan slammed the phone down. “Jack Kinney, watch your mouth. I won’t have you talking like that about Father Andrew.” “He’s a fucking fag like all your buddies over there at the rectory.” Jack slammed his empty bottle on the counter. “Get me another beer, sonny boy.” He demanded. Brian was silent as he pulled another bottle from the fridge. “Da, what’s a fag?” he’d heard boys at school call others the same name. But he hadn’t wanted to ask. “Nothin’ but a butt fucker, sonny boy. You don’t need to worry about that. You’re going to be like your old man, a ladies man. Just don’t knock up any of the girls, then you’ll be saddled for life.” ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Two years later, Brian knew for sure he was a fag and he was mortified, embarrassed and miserable. It was bad enough he got straight A’s in school, that he was prettier than most of the boys in his class, and that the girls all hung around him. But now at twelve, he knew his life was going to end when his father discovered he liked boys, especially Larry Mcgregor, the hockey player who grew up in Pittsburgh and now played in the NHL. He’d actually met him the other day when he’d gone over to Clinton’s house, Larry’s little brother. The hockey player had walked into the family room with a towel wrapped around his waist, fresh from the shower. He was home for a few days. Brian’s cock had sprung to life on its own; sporting a woody that actually hurt, it was so hard. He was glad for once that his mother had bought his jeans too large for him, even still, he’d had to grab a throw pillow from the sofa and cover his lap. Now his father would look at him and know. He’d kill him, sure as God made little green apples, a saying that Bear used off and on and that Brian rather liked. “Hey kiddo, you look like you lost your best friend and your dog just died.” “Hi Bear.” Brian had been lying on the porch swing, hiding behind the heavy growth of wisteria. He didn’t think Bear was home and he’d needed a place to think. “I didn’t know you were home.” “My back was too sore tonight for bowling. Maybe next week.” Bear sat in the rocking chair close to Brian. “So are you going to tell me what has you so gloomy?” “Bear, how old were you when you knew you liked girls?” Brian asked after a couple of minutes of silence. “Oh, about three. I remember this friend of my mother’s, she sure smelled mighty sweet.” He sighed at the memory. “Why do you ask? Are all those girls who keep walking past your house finally getting to you?” “No, I don’t really like girls much. I mean they’re okay, but they’re girls you know.” “Oh.” Bob was silent; he had an idea where this conversation was going. “My dad says fags are sick perverts. My mom says they’re all going to hell.” “Fag isn’t a nice word Brian. Homosexual is what they are. It means that they like guys not girls. Nothing wrong with it. Just different than me. Certainly homosexual men or women are no more sick or perverted than the next guy. It takes all kinds to make the world Brian, I thought I taught you that.” “Was Father Andrew a homosexual, is that why he wanted to touch me?” “I don’t know if he was or he wasn’t, but what he was for sure was a pedophile. That means he was interested in young boys. And that Brian, is perverted.” “Bear, I really don’t like girls much.” Brian looked down. “I think I’ve caught it, the homo.. homo sexual thing.” “First of all Brian, you can’t catch it. It’s part of who you are. It’s how you were put together.” “By God?” “If that’s what you believe.” Bob shrugged. “It isn’t something you can help. You have to appreciate who and what you are. If you like boys better than girls, well that’s too bad. Not because it’s wrong, but because it means your life won’t be as easy. Not everyone understands this thing called homosexuality, and what they don’t understand they fear and fear leads to hatred and violence. But Brian, know this. What or who you are has no bearing on how I feel about you. I think of you as my grandson. I love you as if you were my own.” “Even if I like boys?” “Even still.” Bob sighed. “Still, it won’t hurt to keep that to yourself. It’ll be another secret between us for now. I’m not so sure your parents would understand.” “I don’t tell my parents anything.” Brian sighed. “Being a kid is kind of tough sometimes. I wish Krissy was still alive. She was nice to hold.” Krissy had died the summer before. They’d had a grand funeral for the old cat, burying her behind Jenna’s house. It was one of the few times Brian had actually cried, his tears of sorrow for the old cat had been shared by Bob and Claire. “Yes, I have to say I miss that old fur ball.” Bob sighed. “I’m too old to get another. I don’t want to die and leave it alone.” “You aren’t going to die.” Brian was twelve and immortal in his mind. “Everyone does eventually.” Bob got up, his joints stiff. “But not for awhile. I have some more living to do and I did promise that you could learn my trade from me. I don’t break my promises. A real man NEVER breaks a promise.” “ Jack does.” Brian mumbled. He’d stopped calling his father Da the month before. Bob said nothing. Instead he just put his hand on Brian’s shoulder. “Why don’t I get us both a beer.” “I’ll get it.” Brian jumped off the swing. “Do you have anything good to eat?” He loved Bear’s root beer, the old man made it himself and Brian helped him bottle each batch. “How about a turkey sandwich? I think there’s one or two sandwiches left on the old bird.” Bob followed Brian inside. “I made a loaf of that bread you like.” “Cool.” Brian began to assemble the sandwich makings. He liked to do things for his friend. “Claire might come over. She was finishing her home work and she’s not speaking to her latest boyfriend.” “Nice, I’d like that. Better make Claire a sandwich too. There’s some of that cranberry on the bottom shelf. She likes cranberry on her sandwich.” “Me too.” Brian grinned. “And stuffing.” “I swear I don’t know where you put it.” Bob laughed. “So about this summer. I have a place for you on the job.” “I can’t wait. Can you help me make a bank account like Claire’s?” “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ By the time Brian was fourteen, he had developed into one of the most handsome and sought after boys in his school. And one of the better dressed, thanks to his frugal way with money. He wore blue jeans and white tee shirts like the rest of the boys in the school. But his jeans were designer jeans and his tee shirts, more often than not, silk. He was muscular from his summers and after school job on Bob Jacob’s work crew. He held a top position in all his classes because he refused to settle for anything less. Studying came easy for him. He confined his need for physical activities to soccer and the track team. He saw no reason to do any more, no matter how hard the coach tried to get him to join the other teams. The fact that he didn’t date any of the girls in the school was commented on by some of the more moronic jocks in the school, but never in Brian’s hearing. They had discovered early on he wasn’t someone to trifle with. Remembering Bob’s talk from years ago, Brian refused to join any of the cliques in school, preferring to be on his own. He liked to think of himself as a lone wolf. The lone wolf aspect figured prominently in many of his fantasies. He had an active fantasy life because he had no time to find anyone for a relationship of any kind. He told himself he was too young and too busy to worry about someone other than himself. One thing that made him stand out in the minds of the teachers as well as the other students was the fact that he had zero tolerance for bullies. No one dared to push around others in the school because they were somehow deemed different. If Brian heard about it or saw them doing it, he made sure the bully thought twice about doing it again. “Hey Brian.” He turned to see Bob standing by his truck. “Hey Bear.” He jogged toward his friend. “What’s up, I don’t usually see you lingering outside the school yard.” “Funny kid.” Bob shook his head. “I knew you didn’t have practice today and since the day has turned into one of those fantastic fall days that tricks you into thinking there’s no such thing as a Pittsburgh winter, I thought maybe you might want to go to the lake with me.” “Sounds good.” Brian got into the passenger side of Bob’s truck. Going to the lake meant that as soon as they turned into the long winding dirt road that led through Bob’s property, he got to drive. “So was school today?” Bob asked, laughing when Brian rolled his eyes. “School was school.” He shrugged. “How was work today?” “Work was work.” Bob answered and they both laughed. “Claire is working out great in the office.” He’d hired her as soon as she’d finished secretarial school. “I knew she would.” Brian leaned forward to grab an apple from the bag on the floor. Bob had a thing for green apples and carried them everywhere. “She thinks of you as her grandfather, she’ll make sure your interests are protected.” “She’s a good girl, your sister. She tells me she’s getting her own apartment. How do you think that will go over with your folks?” “Jack will be pissed, you know she’s had to pay him room and board money ever since he found out you were paying her for helping at the office. He doesn’t need the money, but he uses it to play cards with at the lodge. He takes money from me too.” He laughed out loud, “It pisses him off that he can’t find where most of my money is. It never occurs to him that I’d actually have a bank account.” “No, I don’t suppose it would.” Bob chuckled. “I thought maybe we could decide on the location of the summer house this trip.” “Ha, not likely, you change your mind every time. I bet we’ve found two dozen locations and the next time we go out there, you decide no, maybe another spot.” Bob laughed; it was becoming a joke, his indecision about where to locate the house. He almost hated to build it, because that would mean he was ready to retire and with Brian only fourteen, he didn’t want to retire yet. The boy still needed him close. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Brian’s last year at the high school was more nerve wracking than the others. He wanted to work for Bob full time. He was already acting as foreman on most jobs he worked after school and weekends. He knew the old man was depending on him more and more. “Brian, don’t argue, it won’t do you any good. If you won’t apply to Dartmouth, then at least apply to one of the closer Universities. A degree in business and architecture won’t hurt.” Bob bustled around his kitchen baking cookies, something he did when he was nervous and trying to make a point. He knew Brian found the smell of cookies baking somehow comforting. “Bear, I want to take on more work. You need to take it easy.” “I’ll hang in there until you’re finished your schooling.” “I’ll do it if you agree to let me live here on the weekends. As soon as I graduate from high school, I’m never setting foot in the Kinney house again.” Brian had that stubborn set to his jaw that boded no argument. “You know you’re always welcome here.” Bob chuckled. This was hardly a bargain as far as he was concerned. “I know it’s too late for you to apply for scholarships. I want to help you with your tuition.” “No way, I’ll do it myself.” “Brian, you’re my family. I have no other. You’ll accept my offer to pay for your schooling, I won’t agree to anything less.” “It has to be loan.” “No, it has to be a gift.” “Bear, please.” “Brian, please, do it for an old man who loves you very much. I paid for Claire and I’m going to pay for you. It’ll make me happy.” ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Attending University proved to be an eye opener for Brian Kinney. Despite the fact he had few illusions about life, he’d still been more sheltered than he realized. No doubt because every free moment he had from the time he was five years old, had been spent in Bob Jacob’s company. He’d learned a lot from the old man and continued to learn from him, but it wasn’t the same as being forced to associate with people from all walks of life in a university environment. Brian lived in a dorm from Monday to Friday and then Friday night, he’d catch a ride into Pittsburgh to stay with Bob. More often than not, he’d work Saturday on one of the construction sites. Sunday was spent relaxing and studying, he had no time to visit clubs or spend late nights partying. He focused on his goal, refusing to stop until it was obtained. While he was working his way through University, there were other changes in Brian’s life. His sister Claire fell in love and married one of Bob’s crew. The happy couple promptly had a son John, followed by another, Peter. At first Brian didn’t know what to think. He’d never been around young children before, but found he rather enjoyed being called Uncle Brian by the small bits of humanity. He specially enjoyed watching his friend Bear in his role of great grandpa. The old man was thrilled to bits with the children. He’d made their cradles and then their small beds. Claire and her husband George, refused to take the children to the Kinney house, both of them insisting that if either Joan or Jack wished to see the children, they had to do so at their own home. They’d come over twice in the last four years. Another change in Brian’s life was the celebration of Christmas. He’d hated the whole Christmas season for so long he wasn’t sure when it started. No matter how much he’d wanted to believe in the miracles of Christmas, all the season meant was arguing and pain, both physical and mental. By the time he was eight, he’d decided he didn’t need it and even his beloved Bear couldn’t convince him otherwise. But now he had two boys who looked up to him for approval in everything they did. He couldn’t help but melt when Christmas came around. “Another Christmas.” Brian sat on a sofa in Bob’s living room, his bare feet on the coffee table. “And we’ve survived.” He offered his bottle of beer for a toast. Bob met it with his. “Have you made any decisions about where you’re going to live when you graduate?” Bob smiled at him. “Not that I expect you to leave here, but I know a young man like you doesn’t need to live with his grandfather. It isn’t conducive to bringing home dates.” “I hadn’t really given it any thought Bear.” Brian shrugged. “Have you any ideas?” “Well, some, but I’m not so sure what you’ll think of it. It’s kind of a graduation present. One of those presents that could become a big head ache for you though.” Brian laughed out loud. “Interesting Bear, you know I love a challenge. But you don’t have to give me anything when I graduate. You’ve given me a safe haven and a life I would never have had if I hadn’t met you.” “Well, I love to acknowledge achievements. And graduating with two degrees deserves some kind of acknowledgement.” The old man pulled a leather folder out from a cushion he was leaning on. “Happy early graduation.” “You’ve given me so much already Bear.” Brian looked at the thick leather of the folder. “I don’t know what to say.” “Say you’ll accept it. It’s really something I’ve had for a long time, almost as long as I’ve known you as a matter of fact.” The old man flushed. “I thought that you could spend your spare time, what ever you have, maybe working on this project. And you can live there as well.” “Now I am curious.” Brian opened the folder. Inside was the title deed to a piece of property, as well as photos of what he now owned. “This is too much.” He breathed, looking through the pages. “No, it doesn’t begin to give back what you’ve given to me in the last eighteen years.” “But Bear, this is your summer house property.” Brian looked at the old man, questions in his eyes. “Your dream is to live there.” “Maybe I will, maybe you’ll build me a small cabin on the bank of the lake, away from the main house I know you’ll design and build. I don’t need much, just one bedroom. This old house is getting to be too much for me.” “Hell Bear, you work with the crew every day. Don’t give me that old man crap.” “Damn it Brian, I thought for sure you’d go along with it.” He grinned and slapped Brian on the knee. “Just enjoy the place and don’t wait until you’re my age. Build yourself something when you’re young enough to enjoy it.” “I’m not sure what to say except thank you. And I will build you a summer house there Bear. I’d be happy and proud to have you living close to me.” ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ The next few years were busy for Brian and Bob Jacobs. With Brian at the helm, his small home building business prospered until it became larger than life. Bob couldn’t believe how much energy Brian had or how devoted he was into making the business one of the most well known and well respected construction businesses in Pittsburgh. He even did a half hour television show where he helped repair damage done by not so scrupulous builders. He didn’t hide the fact that he was gay. In fact, he didn’t care who knew. He rarely headed to Liberty Avenue for more than a beer at Woody’s and a quick blow job for stress relief. So when his world came crashing to a halt and turned itself upside down, Brian wasn’t even close to being prepared. With one phone call, he discovered his sister and her husband had been killed on the way home from Disneyland and he was now a father of two boys. He was approaching thirty, had no time for a social life. Bob was slowing down and in fact hadn’t been in to work for weeks, leaving Brian completely in charge. His home was still in the construction stage, though he and the crew had built Bob a small one bedroom summer house on the property. And now he had to appear immediately in Atlanta, where the boys were being held in a children’s ward at a hospital, suffering from various injuries and the loss of their parents. It was at a time like this that he realized being a lone wolf wasn’t a good thing. He had no one to turn to. His sister was gone and Bob depended on him now, not the other way around. Putting his own grief on hold, Brian climbed into his truck and began the drive to Atlanta. He had three days to get the kids and rearrange his life so that they could all come out of this disaster intact.