Keeper of Secrets

Keeper of Secrets © 2001 Mark A. Roeder

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All registered trademarks mentioned in this book are the property of their respective owners. No infringement is intended or should be inferred.

Dedication This book is dedicated to those loyal readers who not only read all my books, but take the time to e-mail me with their thoughts and feelings.

Acknowledgments I’d like to thank all of those who took the time to read “Keeper of Secrets” in manuscript form. This handful of individuals caught a lot of mistakes I’d missed and gave me some wonderful suggestions. Thank you Ron Donaghe (author of “Common Sons”, “The Blind Season”, and more), John Radez, Marc Wielage (who will soon be publishing his own, unique novels), and of course, Ken Clark, who knows more about my books than I do. I’d also like to thank Ken for all the hard work he does on markroeder.com. Without him, there would be no internet site on my novels.

Introduction Keeper of Secrets is both a new tale and a continuation of Someone Is Killing The Gay Boys of Verona. Like all my novels, it stands alone, but those who read them in order will get more out of them. Keeper of Secrets a departure from my earlier novels in that one of the main characters, Avery, is a teenage gay basher, rather than a gay youth. His view of the world is quite different from the other characters in my novels. His fate is entwined with that of Sean and Nick, however, and he is forever changed. Readers of my earlier novels will find many familiar faces in Keeper of Secrets. The story delves into the relationship of Sean and Nick, that had only just began in Someone Is Killing The Gay Boys of Verona. Ethan and Nathan are here too, as well as a glimpse of Brendan and Casper, nearly twenty years after A Better Place.

May, 1997

Avery I pulled my lips from those of Carrie Michaels and smiled. She was cute, and hopefully adventurous. We’d only been dating for a short time, but she was already letting me kiss her, so I was hopeful. I looked up and caught Ryan Wayne gazing at me. I glared at him and he looked away. I wondered if the rumors I’d heard about him were true. Carrie left for class. I shouldered past Ryan, then paused just long enough to taunt him in a low voice, “take a picture, faggot — it’ll last longer.” Ryan swallowed hard. I grinned and continued down the hall. I bet the rumors about Ryan were true. He didn’t do anything when I called him a fag, except look scared. He was quiet and the only sport he did was track, as if you could call that a sport. I hated his soft voice. He reminded me of a girl. Boys like that gave me the creeps — especially when they were looking at me as if they were undressing me with their eyes. I caught up with Joey Burnett, my best friend, at lunch. The first thing he did was ask about Carrie. “So, how are you makin’ out with the new girl?” “Oh, we’re makin’ out,” I said casually. “All right! C’mon, man — details! Joey lived for sexual details, no matter how small. I guess he was kinda sex-crazed. Or in other words, a normal guy.

“Well, let’s just say she really knows how to use her tongue,” I said, grinning. “It won’t be long now. I’ve been giving her a few ‘You’re so special’ and ‘You really mean a lot to me’ comments. She eats it up. I should be getting some by this weekend.” Usually, when I said something like that to Joey, I was exaggerating for effect, but this time it was true. I had a feeling I’d be rid of my virginity before another week had passed. Of course, Joey thought I’d gotten laid a long time ago, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me. And it’d definitely help my reputation, besides. “Cool,” said Joey, and gave me a high five. “Oh, and that little queer Ryan was looking at me,” I added. “Ewwww, I hate fairies,” said Joey. “Maybe we should pull his wings off and watch him squirm.” I laughed. I wasn’t laughing at the end of the day. Carrie stalked up to me while I was putting books in my locker and let me have it. “She knows how to use her tongue, huh?” she shrieked, poking me in the chest with her finger. “Uh.” “I should be getting some by this weekend? Is this what you’re all about, Avery?” I wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“I thought you liked me,” she said, choking back a sob. “Oh, I do. That stuff I said... it was just guy talk.” ”No, it wasn’t! You meant it and you know it!” She poked my chest harder. It hurt. “Come on, Carrie, you know how I feel about you.” “I do now! I’ve got news for you, Avery: you’re not ‘gettin’ some’ this weekend, or ever — not from me, and probably never from anybody else, either!” I glanced over her shoulder. People were watching and I was embarrassed, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. Carrie just kept going off on me. I couldn’t remember seeing a girl so pissed-off before. “You think you’re so hot, don’t you?” she said, pushing my back up against the lockers. “I can just imagine what it’d be like with you. I can just see you pawing me, not able to wait for it... and then it’d be over before it started. You’d probably go off in your shorts as soon as I took my top off. Even if you could control yourself long enough to do it, I bet I probably couldn’t even feel it.” She held out her left pinky and waved it in my face. “I’ve heard something about you, Avery: I’ve heard it’s very, very small,” she said, looking at my crotch. “I bet my eight year-old brother has more than you.” Before I could fire off a retort, she stalked away. The dozen students who’d been watching us laughed and clapped, like we were giving some kind of fucking performance. I was angry and so flustered, my entire

face turned red. I was so shocked I didn’t know what to do or say. The fact that a lot of my classmates had witnessed what had just happened didn’t help matters either. My embarrassment only served to make me angrier, but I was also extremely disappointed. For weeks, I’d been dreaming about getting it on with Carrie, fantasizing about it. Now, nothing was ever gonna happen with her. I slammed my locker and walked away, ignoring the smirks of those around me. I wanted to start punching their ugly little faces, but I could hardly start in on everybody at once. I trudged out the back exit and made my way home. I couldn’t believe what Carrie had said about me. That crack about me being small was totally uncalled for. It was bullshit too. I wasn’t small! And even if I were, she’d have no way of knowing. It still sucked that everyone heard her say it. It didn’t matter if some things were true or not — people would believe it just the same. Fuck. Something like this could follow me all the way through high school. I kicked rocks with my scuffed shoes as I walked around, fuming. I didn’t handle disappointment well. Damn! I was so close. Just a few more days and I would’ve closed the deal. Now I was back to square one. Worse than that, word would get around and landing a girl would be twice as hard as it was before. Fuck. I walked into the park, ignoring the neatly-tended flower beds and the ancient trees. I saw some guys from

school, but ignored them. If they said one fucking thing to me about Carrie, I’d knock their teeth out. I grinned when I spotted a familiar face ahead of me: Ryan! It was time for some fun to alleviate my disappointment over Carrie, and the humiliation I suffered at her hands. Maybe having some fun with Ryan was just the medicine I needed. I closed the distance between us. My first instinct was to smack him in the back of the head, but I felt like playing with him before pounding him senseless. “What’s up, Ryan?” I said, as cheerfully as I could. “Uh... nothing.” Good, I thought. There was a flicker of fear in his eyes. “Hey, I’m sorry about before,” I said, casually leaning against a nearby tree. “I was just kinda mad about stuff.” “Uh-huh.” He looked like he didn’t believe me, or trust me. Shit. Maybe he was smarter than I thought. I lowered my voice conspiratorially. “Actually, I was thinkin’ I’d like to get to know you better... if you know what I mean,” I said. I licked my lips slightly as I looked at him. Ryan still looked scared, and now confused, too. I went on, playing with the leaves on a limb. “My girlfriend just dumped me, so that kind of leaves me... unsatisfied, if you catch my drift.” Ryan swallowed, hard. He was definitely eating up every word I said, and looked as if he were getting

aroused. I bet there was a lot going on inside his little, horny, perverted mind. I just knew he was seething with lust inside. Fuckin’ faggot. He disgusted me. “I’ve heard some rumors about you, Ryan.” A wave of fear passed over Ryan’s face, and he glanced nervously in both directions to see if anybody else was listening. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I took a step closer. “Sure you do. It’s okay, dude! I won’t tell anyone. I’ve just heard that guys like you sometimes do favors for guys like me. We both get somethin’ out of it, you know?” Beads of sweat were on his forehead now. “I’ve never really...” “Hey, you don’t have to pretend. Even if you haven’t done it, you want to. Don’tcha?” Damn, I was a good actor. I thought that maybe I should consider a career in the movies. With my good looks, who knows? “Come on,” I said. I took him by the wrist and pulled him down a path toward an isolated part of the park. Ryan didn’t resist. He just let me lead him along, like a faithful dog. He probably knew it was stupid, and dangerous, but he still couldn’t pass up a chance at getting his hands on me. I released his wrist when we were completely alone, then stood there gazing at him. One quick glance at his

crotch told me all I needed to know: the little queer was totally turned-on. How disgusting. I leaned in like I was gonna kiss him, bringing my lips closer and closer to his. Ryan pulled back. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “I... I don’t even know you,” he stammered. “So what? I know you want it. You’re checkin’ me out all the time. I’ve seen you looking at this,” I said, hefting my package. “C’mon, dude! This is your big chance, Ryan. You want it and my girl just dumped me, so I need some relief.” His eyes roved up and down my body, lingering on my crotch. He was a sick little perv. “Come on!” I snapped. “Touch me! You know you want it.” Ryan reached out fearfully and put his hand on my chest. He was so fucking timid I wanted to smack him. I took his hand and guided it down over my abs, then lower still. His hand was trembling. “Go on — feel it,” I whispered. I put his hand right on my bulge. I could read the lust in his little faggot eyes. He began to grope me. That was all I needed. I slugged him hard in the face and pounced on him. The little fairy didn’t even try to defend himself. He just whimpered and tried to shield his face from my fists. I knocked him to the ground, sat on this chest and pummeled him.

“Faggot!” I screamed. “Cocksucker! You probably even get off on me beatin’ you, don’t you?” Ryan didn’t even try to hit me back. He just started crying. I bitch-slapped him twice, then punched him in the face, hard. I made sure he’d have two black eyes for everyone to see the next day. Again and again, I smashed him in the stomach and chest. My fist making contact with his body felt so satisfying. I channeled all my aggression into beating the fuck out of that little queer. I took a pen out of my pocket and wrote “FAG” in bold letters, right on his forehead. I laughed when I imagined him trying to explain it to his parents or anyone else who saw it. He’d probably get his ass kicked again on the way home for it. Ryan just lay there and let me write on his face. He was such a pathetic loser. I got up off him and gave him a couple quick kicks in the stomach. He doubled up and moaned in pain. It was such a satisfying sound, I had to smile. I was already feeling a lot better. I leaned over and held his head up by the hair. “Don’t ever look at me like that again,” I growled. A little trickle of blood was flowing from the corner of his mouth. “I’m sick of you queers leering at me. We’re all sick of it! Stick to your own kind, fag, and leave us normal guys alone. Keep your fuckin’ eyes to yourself.” I slammed him back on the ground and started to walk away, then gave him a good kick in the ribs that made him cry even harder. I chuckled as I trudged back

up the path, not even bothering to look behind me. I bet his faggot ass would think twice before he looked at another guy.

Sean “Nick, what’s wrong?” I asked. We were having lunch in Ofarim’s, a great burger place, talking and laughing, when Nick suddenly stopped speaking. I’d learned in the short time we’d been dating that he got quiet when something bothered him, or he was hurt. I couldn’t think of anything I’d said or done that could have brought on his mood. I looked over my shoulder. Nick was staring at a family that had just walked in and sat at a nearby booth. There was a mom and dad and a kid about our age, all happy and smiling. “I’ll tell you later, ‘kay?” said Nick. “Sure.” I knew he probably didn’t want to talk around others. A lot of things we discussed were best kept away from the ears of most people. I was worried about Nick. I didn’t like it when he got quiet like that. He had a lot of problems opening up about what was bothering him. Nick was usually pretty happy, but he could be real moody sometimes — going from laughing to depressed in an instant, sometimes for no reason at all. But I loved him anyway. He was my boyfriend. He made me happy, and he taught me something about life. Nick made me realize that no matter how good things looked on the outside, everyone had problems.

I watched him as he ate in silence. Nick had beautiful brown hair, so light it was nearly blond. His eyes were blue and his body was slim and appealing. I’d always looked at hot guys like him, thinking they had it made. I knew I wasn’t handsome. I had plain dark brown hair and eyes, and I could only dream of having abs or a muscular chest. I didn’t even have the slim, sinewy body that a lot of boys had. I was a little pudgy, sadly, I was kind of fat — not exactly anybody’s idea of a dream boy. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not down on myself. Well, not too much anyway. I think I look okay overall, and I’m working to improve myself. It’s just that I always thought the beautiful boys had it made. After I met Nick, though, I learned that wasn’t always true. He made me realize that sometimes, looks came with too high a price. Those beautiful boys might look like they had it made, but maybe they didn’t have it so good after all. Still, there was a part of me that dreamed about being beautiful and built. I knew that I’d never be cute. Nothing could change my face. I did have a shot at being built, if I worked hard enough for it. Even that wasn’t going so well, though. It was a lot easier deciding to be muscular than actually making it happen. Even though I knew Nick was depressed, I couldn’t help but feel at least a little happy. At least I had a boyfriend, and it was a wonderful feeling that made me feel all warm inside. I loved being with him, no matter what we were doing. Nick made everything special.

I glanced around at the diner, with its small booths and quaint atmosphere. It felt right out of the 1950s, complete with art deco trim and red-checked tablecloths on the tables. A ceiling fan whooshed overhead, and I could hear the clang of dishes in the back room. I guess it wasn’t much, but it was our place, mine and Nick’s. There was nothing better than going there and having a burger with him. I took another bite and looked up. Nick stared at his plate, quietly chewing, and he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. I felt so helpless. I desperately wished that I could magically make all his problems go away, but I knew it didn’t work that way. I’d sure do whatever I could to help him out, though, even if I didn’t have any special magic. That’s what friends — and especially boyfriends — were for. After we’d finished our burgers and devoured the last fry, Nick and I walked across the street to the park and sat on a secluded bench. He hadn’t spoken a word since he’d grown quiet in the burger place. He scared me when he was like that. “I took a deep breath. “What’s wrong, Nick?” I asked quietly. He didn’t answer me. I was afraid of that. Sometimes, he just wouldn’t speak at all. It was like he just couldn’t even express what was buried inside him, or couldn’t figure out how. “I was thinking about my parents again,” he said, barely above a whisper.

That was it. I remembered the family in the diner. Seeing them must have triggered his mood. I didn’t know anything about Nick’s biological family. He’d been adopted not too long ago by a gay couple. I knew them well because I worked on their farm, and they’d helped me deal with my own feelings about my sexual orientation. Ethan and Nathan were like fathers to me, or maybe more like big brothers. I thought Nick was very lucky to have them as his parents, but he obviously wasn’t talking about them. He was talking about his biological mother and father. “You’ve never told me about them,” I said. “They didn’t want me,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Nick.” “Everything was fine with them, but then...they found out I was gay. They didn’t want me after that. My dad and I used to be so close. We’d play basketball together and play catch and all kinds of stuff. He took me to amusement parks and we hung out together all the time.” His voice caught in his throat, then he continued. “But as soon as he found out I was gay, all that changed. It’s like all of a sudden, Mom and Dad were totally different. I was different. You don’t know what it’s like to have a mom and dad for fifteen years, then have them decide you aren’t their son anymore. They used to be so proud of everything I did. They were always taking pictures of me. I bet they’ve torn ‘em all up now.

“When I ran away, they didn’t even care. They didn’t even try to find me. When Ethan and Nathan wanted to adopt me, my parents didn’t resist. They just signed away all their rights, like they were getting rid of an old car. They didn’t even say ‘goodbye’. It was like they were glad to be rid of their faggot son,” he said sarcastically. I didn’t know what to say. My parents weren’t anything like that at all. “How’d they find out?” I asked. I hoped I wasn’t being too nosy. “Dad found some pictures on the computer. Pictures of guys. You know... I thought I’d deleted them, but, well... I guess I missed some. I remember when he found them. He yelled my name and I knew I was in for it. When I walked into the room, there was a photo of two young guys on my screen, doin’ it. Dad was furious. He asked if I knew anything about the pictures. I lied and told him I didn’t. He slapped my face.” “Oh, I’m so sorry, Nick.” “Then he asked me if I was a faggot. He told me not to lie to him or he’d hurt me. I told him I was gay and he said ‘No, you’re a faggot.’ I hated the way he said it. He called my mom in and showed her the picture. He told her I was a faggot. He never said gay, it was always faggot. I tried to leave, but he grabbed my wrist and made me stay. He started asking me questions. He asked me if I’d been with other guys. I told him ‘no’, which was the truth, but he acted like he didn’t believe me. He got real personal and specific with his

questions, real vulgar. I couldn’t believe it. I was totally humiliated. I told Dad the truth, that I hadn’t done any of that stuff. He called me a liar.” Nick was crying now. I knew the memories must have been very painful for him. I think he needed to talk about it though. Nick knew he was safe with me. He knew I loved him and that he could tell me anything. I put my arm around his shoulders. “You’re safe now, Nick,” I said reassuringly. “That’s all over with. You’ve got good parents now.” His voice grew hoarser, and he choked out the words between sobs. “I thought my mom would stand up for me, but she didn’t. It was like she just didn’t care about me. The day they found out about me was the day their love for me was gone, like it had never been there at all. I wasn’t their little boy anymore. “Things got pretty bad after that at home. It was like I didn’t exist. When Dad did acknowledge my existence, it was just to make fun of me and call me names. He made a lot of ‘cute’ little remarks about me being gay, saying stuff like how gay boys were all real small in the penis department, so it probably only took two fingers to hold mine. He embarrassed me in front of Mom all the time. When I’d come in, he’d say stuff like ‘The little pillow-biter is home’ or ‘The little fairy has just flown in’. He said a lot of other stuff to me when we were alone, but it was so bad I don’t even want to say it out loud.”

Nick was almost hysterical. He was sobbing so hard that he was having trouble speaking. My heart went out to him. “But all the things he said wasn’t the worst of it though. The worst was knowing that my parents didn’t want me anymore, that they didn’t love me. And then..." Nick broke down crying. He couldn’t speak at all for awhile. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” he said. The memories had become too painful for him to bear. I held him and tried to comfort him. “You don’t have to say anything more, Nick,” I whispered. “It’s okay. Ethan and Nathan are your parents now and they love you. They adopted you because they wanted you to be their son. They picked you out of all the hundreds of kids they could have adopted. They love you, Nick, and I love you.” We embraced, and our bodies shook together as his sobs echoed through the trees. After a few minutes, his tears finally ceased. I think he felt better. I hoped so. I didn’t like to see the boy I loved in pain. *** I walked Nick home. Even before we got close, I could detect the scent of plowed earth and farm animals. I loved the farm. It was a place of peace and beauty. Nick

seemed to be in better spirits by the time we got there. I would’ve gone inside with him for awhile, but I sensed he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. It was beginning to get dark too, so I needed to head back. We stood in front of the farmhouse porch for a few moments, listening to the crickets and frogs perform their nightly symphony. I pulled Nick to me and hugged him close. I pressed my lips to his and kissed him passionately. I felt his tongue slip into my mouth. We kissed each other for a few moments, then drew apart. “You really need to stay the night at my house sometime soon,” I said. “Why?” he said, mischievously. “You know why.” ”Hey, I’m not that kinda guy,” said Nick indignantly. “You’re my kinda guy,” I corrected him. “Um, kiss me again.” I kissed Nick once more and he rubbed up against me. I could tell he was aroused. So was I. My heart was beating like a jackhammer. “We’d better stop,” I said, panting, “but I don’t wanna stop.” “Me neither.” I came real close to asking him if he wanted to go out to the barn. His parents were in the house, and there was no chance of us getting caught. I didn’t press him,

however, I knew he needed to be alone with his thoughts. I sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said at last. ” ‘Night, Sean.” Nick gave me one last peck on the lips, then turned and walked into the house. I stood and watched him until he was gone. I headed for home, my thoughts filled with Nick — or more precisely, Nick’s body. Simply being near him got me so excited that I could barely stand it. I was stiff as a rock when we’d kissed and I knew Nick could feel it. He was turned-on, too. I guess we just had that effect on each other. I laughed quietly when I thought about how we’d decided to take things slow in the beginning. That idea had been a lost cause right from the start. The very moment I told him that I was gay and that I loved him, we’d kissed passionately. Before I knew it, we were skinny dipping and making out naked in a small pond. Then I’d sank to my knees in front of Nick and... I couldn’t let myself think about the details; it would only torment me. It was after that first day that we decided to take things more slowly. We wanted our relationship to be like Ethan and Nathan’s — about companionship and love, not just sex. That was the original idea, anyway. We managed to hold out for two whole days before we lost control and ripped each other’s clothes off in the hayloft. Since that time, we’d gotten it on at every opportunity. We

couldn’t help ourselves. We were normal, teenaged guys. I loved Nick with all my heart. We hadn’t managed to take it slow like we’d planned, but it didn’t matter. We loved each other. Even though we went at it like two wild animals, our relationship was a lot deeper than that. I looked up and saw Graymoor Mansion looming before me. It was kinda cool living in Verona’s most notorious haunted house. I didn’t think so in the beginning, but I’d come to love the old place. I guess the addition of electricity and satellite TV had something to do with that, but recent events had an even greater effect. I’d experienced things since moving into Graymoor... things that I’d never have thought possible before. The porch light was on, but the rest of the house was pitch-black. Good. My parents were almost never home. My dad was an archaeologist. Half the time he was out lecturing and raising funds for his excavations. The other half of the time he was gone on some dig, always in some far away place like Egypt or Sicily or somewhere. Mom had a more ordinary job; she ran her own antique store, but she was never around either. If she wasn’t at the shop, she was out looking for old stuff to sell. I smiled. The almost total lack of parental supervision made it easy for Nick and me to have a lot of fun. If my parents even guessed at some of what went on when they were gone, they’d probably lock me in my room.

I opened the heavy wooden front door and flipped on the light. The vast, front parlor was instantly bathed in a pale amber glow. How different it was from my first weeks in Graymoor when we had to get by with candle and lamp light. The house I’d lived in before could’ve fit into the parlor with room to spare, and I’m not exaggerating one bit. I climbed the stairs to my room, which was three floors up. My legs were getting a lot stronger, just from the many trips I made to my room each day. Just going to the kitchen and back was quite a hike. I walked down the hall to my room, passing the painting of an old man who somewhat resembled a pirate. As always, his eyes followed me. I spent over an hour one day looking at the painting from all different angles, and discovered that the eyes were always staring straight at me. It freaked me out at first, but I got used to it, like so many of the strange occurrences at Graymoor. At last I reached my room. I clicked on the light, closed the door, and flopped down on the bed, exhausted from all the walking. It felt good to rest my legs. I thought about Nick spending the night with me again, and I felt a hunger deep inside me. I couldn’t wait. The last time... Just remembering got me all hot and bothered. I unfastened my belt and pushed off my jeans, then my boxers. Until I could get with Nick again, I’d have to relieve the tension in the oldfashioned way.

Avery I knew I was in trouble as soon as I walked in the door. Dad had that look on his face. It was the same look he had every time I got caught doing something I shouldn’t be doing, like the last time my report card arrived in the mail. Whatever was up, I knew I was in for it. “Sit down,” said my father. I gave him my best smart-ass look, but did as I was told. I hated to do what I was told. “Mrs. Wayne called. Do you care to explain?” I couldn’t believe it. Ryan must have run straight home to his mommy to tell her I’d beaten him up. I thought he’d keep his fuckin’ mouth shut, considering that he got his ass kicked because he was a little queer. I glared at him. “He provoked me.” “Uh-huh. This makes, what — three fights this month?” “I wasn’t counting.” “I am,” he snapped. “So is the school.” “This didn’t happen at school.” “Nevertheless, we’ve discussed this before.” “I had to do it.”

He sighed and sat down wearily in the chair next to me. “And just why did you have to do it, Avery? What’s your excuse this time?” “Ryan’s a fag,” I spat. “I caught him checkin’ me out again.” “Avery...” “Oh come on, Dad! You don’t like fags either!” “Whether or not I like... them is not the point. Mrs. Wayne says you attacked her son, busted his lip, and may have broken his ribs. No matter what you think about someone, Avery, you can’t just attack them like that. I’m extremely disappointed in you.” “Hypocrite,” I said under my breath. “What was that?” “Nothing!” He shook his head and stood up and stared at me. “I’m sick of your attitude, Avery. You’ve been warned before. This time, you’re going to pay. I told you the last time you were involved in a fight that if it happened again, I’d throw the book at you.” “I’m already not allowed to use the car for a month!” I whined. That was my last punishment and it totally sucked. I hated having to walk everywhere like some little kid. “Try two months,” said my Dad. I wanted to hit him. “You’re also grounded for the next month. You go to school, but nowhere else.”

“That’s total bullshit!” I yelled. I made so much noise that Mom came in from the kitchen. “No television, no video games, no internet, no computer, no phone, no music!” bellowed my Dad. “Fuck you!” I yelled, leaping out of my seat. He took a step towards me. “What did you say to me?” his voice was menacing. I looked him right in the eye. “You heard me! I said ‘Fuck you!’ Fuck your rules, fuck your punishments, fuck this house, but most of all, fuck you!” We stood there toe-to-toe, glaring at each other. Mom was watching us in horror. “Go to your room!” said Dad, trembling with rage. I was so mad I was about to explode. I stomped up the stairs and slammed my door shut. I paced back and forth in my room. Grounded for a month? No television, no video games, no internet, no computer, no phone, and no music for a month? No car for two months? I wasn’t in a home — I was in a fuckin’ concentration camp! I hated my dad. He was such a hypocrite, too. I’d heard him make fag jokes a million times. I bet he’d have done the same if some disgusting queer was leering at him. The more I thought about the whole thing, the madder I got. The volcano in my head was erupting. “FUCK THIS SHIT!” I yelled, loud enough that my parents could no doubt hear me in the living room. I kicked my door open and walked down the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going, young man?” asked my dad. “I’m goin’ out!” I snarled. “No, you’re not!” he said. “Yes, I am!” I made for the door. Dad tried to stop me. “Get the fuck out of my way! I hate you!” I said. I pushed past him. He grabbed hold of me for a moment, but I slipped out of his grasp, shoved him against the wall as hard as I could, and tore out the door. I turned and gave him the finger before running away from the house. I kept running for about fifteen minutes, until I got a cramp in my left side. I held my hand to it and slowed down, leaning against a nearby chain-link fence. I was so furious I could’ve spit nails. This had to be the worst day of my life. First, Carrie dumps my ass over nothing, then that little queer was leering at me, and now, my dad goes ballistic and becomes totally unreasonable. What could happen next? “Fuck this!” I said to myself, out loud. “I’m not goin’ back.” I’d thought about running away several times, but this was it. I was gonna actually do it this time! I was sick of my parents, sick of my school, and sick of my crummy little town. The sooner I was out of there, the better. I had just one thing I wanted to do before I left. I had to find Ryan. That little fucker was going to pay.

I knew Ryan would probably be home whining to his mommy. I wasn’t likely to find him. I didn’t care how long it took. No matter what, I was gonna get him. He’d fucked up my life, and now I was going to fuck him up, bad. If I had to, I’d find out where he lived and ambush him on the way to school the next day. He was gonna pay for what he’d done to me. I wandered about town looking for the little queer. Two hours later there was still no sign of him. I was just starting to look through a telephone book in a phone booth for his address when I saw him. He was walking down the sidewalk alone, heading back for the park. I smiled to myself. Perfect. I kept far back as I followed him. I didn’t want him to know I was anywhere around. I waited until he’d entered the park and neared the far edge near the woods. I closed in on him without him knowing, making sure there wasn’t anyone else around. I was in luck, the park was practically deserted. Ryan was such a little fool. I sure as shit wouldn’t have been walking around by myself after I’d gotten my ass kicked only a few hours before, especially around a nearly deserted park. Maybe he thought he was safe because he’d narked on me. He was so wrong. I slipped up on Ryan and was on top of him before he knew it. When he saw me, he started to cry out, but I slapped my hand over his mouth and dragged him into the woods. This time he fought me, but the puny little queer couldn’t break away. I pulled him deep into the woods. He was kicking and punching all the way, but it

did him no good. All his resistance did was make me angrier still. When we were far into the woods, I pushed him down on the ground. “You cry out for help and I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” I told him. It was a bluff, but he didn’t know that. “You just had to go and tell, didn’t you, faggot?” I snarled. “You know how much trouble you got me in? Huh?” He shook his head. “Plenty!” I said. “I fuckin’ hate you!” I dropped down on him and just pounded on his face, his chest, and his stomach. I despised him. I wanted to make him pay for what he’d done to me. I felt like I could pound him so hard, he’d go right into the dirt. “Fuckin’ little cocksucker!” I said as I beat him. I punched him in the nuts as hard as I could and he screamed in pain. I liked hearing him scream. I just kept pounding him. It felt so good to hit him over and over and just fuck him up. “This is what all you little queers deserve, you know that? You deserve it more though, because you went cryin’ to your mommy like a little wuss.” He tried to stagger to his feet, but I punched him in the stomach and he fell back to the ground and grunted with pain. “Please stop, Avery,” he begged me. “Please! I’ll do anything you want... anything! I won’t tell anyone about this. I won’t tell anyone you beat me up.”

He was sobbing hysterically as he begged, so much so that it was hard to understand him. I loved hearing him beg. He promised me anything and everything if I’d just let him go, but I didn’t even slow down. “Shut up, faggot!” I snarled, and slapped him hard in the face. I pounded my fists on this chest, punched him in the stomach, and kneed him in the balls as hard as I could, over and over. “Maybe this will keep you from checkin’ out other guys in the shower!” I told him as I hit him in the nads once more. He writhed in pain and I loved it. I kept hitting him. I couldn’t stop myself. There was almost something sensual and sexually satisfying about beating him. I slammed him again and again, as if it were in slow motion. I felt virile and strong as I physically dominated him. Ryan fought to get away, his hands flailing against the air, but he was powerless against me, impotent. I don’t know how much time went by. I wasn’t sure; it might’ve been two minutes, or even two hours. Suddenly, I stopped and looked down, gasping for breath. Ryan had stopped whimpering. He stopped crying. He stopped... everything. I looked down at him. His eyes were closed. He lay there motionless. I shook him. He didn’t move. I put my hand on his chest. I felt nothing. I looked down at him in horror. I’d killed him.

Sean I rode my mountain bike to the farm. Everyone called it “The Selby Farm”, but it was just “the farm” to me. I’d been there so often, I thought of it as a second home. Ethan and Nathan were like a second set of parents to me. I actually saw them a lot more than my own parents. I spent a lot of time on the farm because of Nick, but I’d thought of it as home even before Nick was adopted. I’d worked for Ethan and Nathan for a few years — full-time during the summers and on weekends, and part-time after school the rest of the year. I loved the farm. It was peaceful and quiet, like a world unto itself. Nick smiled at me as I bounced up the dirt road. He was helping Ethan unload firewood from the back of an old pickup truck. Looking at Nick, you’d never know he’d been all broken up the day before. He was like that. He’d get all upset, then later, he’d be okay. I breathed a sigh of relief; it was great to see him back to normal. Ethan carried an armload of wood from the truck to the barn as if it was as light as a feather. He was the strongest guy I knew. I’d seen him toss hundred-pound bags of seed corn around like they were five-pound bags of flour. He’d been a wrestler in high school and had muscles bulging out everywhere. He was middleaged, somewhere in his thirties, but he was still

downright gorgeous. Before I’d met Nick, I guess I’d kinda had a thing for him — even though I knew nothing would ever come of it, since Ethan was obviously devoted to Nathan. I smiled to myself as I leaned my bike against the fence and stared at them. Now that I thought about it, I still had a thing for Ethan and Nathan. Even though they were twice my age, they were still hot. It was just a harmless crush, mixed with a bit of plain old lust. I had no intention of doing anything about it for a whole lot of reasons. Ethan and Nathan were like a married couple, and I’d never try and come between them — even if I thought I could, which I didn’t. I was also deeply in love with Nick. I wouldn’t have given him up even for Ethan. I never told Nick how I felt about his two dads, because I thought it might make him uncomfortable. Me dating Nick also made my feelings for his dads almost weird. No matter — nothing was gonna come of my feelings for them. I helped Nick and Ethan finish unloading the truck. When we were done, Ethan refilled his chainsaw with fuel, hopped in the truck, and drove off. I stayed back with Nick, then pulled him roughly to me and kissed him hard on the mouth. He giggled. It felt so good to have a boyfriend. As we walked towards the barn, Nick didn’t mention anything about the day before, so I didn’t bring it up. I knew there was more to tell about what happened with him and his parents, but I knew Nick would tell me in his own time. He was still working out the pain of his

past, and he needed to do it at his own pace. When he was ready, I’d be there to listen and to offer him my shoulder to cry on. I’d love him and take care of him. Until then, we’d just share our lives as always. Nick and I spent the evening filling watering troughs and moving the cattle and horses from one pasture into another. Today’s workload was pretty easy. Often, the work was a lot harder. I got a real workout on the farm most of the time, and over the past year, I’d gotten a lot more muscles because of it. It was no wonder that Ethan was so built. He’d been doing farm work since he was a kid. I stayed for supper after work. I’d always been more than just an employee, even before I’d started dating Nick. Ethan and Nathan felt like family, and the farm was my home away from home. I was as comfortable having supper with Ethan, Nathan, and Nick as I was with my own mom and dad, not that Mom and Dad were ever around to have supper with. The food was unbelievably good, maybe because a lot of it was grown right there on the farm. Besides the huge fields of corn and beans, Nathan kept a big garden with all kinds of vegetables in it. Every year, at harvest time, he canned tons of green beans, tomatoes, and lots of other stuff. The farm even had its own little apple orchard and baskets of them were kept in the cellar for use all year round. This evening, supper was fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, and fresh apple pie. All of it, except for the chicken, was grown on the farm. Ethan

and Nathan kept chickens, but only for eggs. I think they grew too attached to them to kill them. After supper, we sat outside and listened to the frogs and insects sing their nightly songs. I was desperately hoping Ethan and Nathan would go inside for awhile so Nick and I could make out on the porch swing, but it didn’t happen. Instead, we all made idle chatter until it was too dark to see, then Ethan drove me home, ‘cause he didn’t want me riding my bike in the dark. I was a little disappointed that I didn’t have some time alone with Nick, but there was always next time. *** I awakened in the night. Some sound had disturbed me. I had grown accustomed to odd noises at night, ever since we’d moved into Graymoor Mansion. The huge old home had settled down since the wild events of a few weeks before, however, and I was glad to have some normal peace and quiet for a change. I’d always wondered about the existence of ghosts, but after living in Graymoor, there was no need to wonder anymore. I’d witnessed so many supernatural events that I’d come to take them for granted. Chairs sliding across the room, disembodied voices, floating apparitions... they’d all been a part of my life. Then, quite suddenly, it was all gone. Graymoor had gone quiet.

It hadn’t happened without reason. Only weeks ago, my friend Marshall and I had performed an exorcism to rid ourselves of a nasty spirit, and it seemed the rest had gone with him — that is, until recently. Things were beginning to happen again and Graymoor was returning to the way it was when I’d first moved in. Oddly enough, I was happy about it. I found that I’d actually missed all the weird stuff that had gone on before. I laughed to myself. I wondered how many would believe me if they knew the truth. I wasn’t even sure I would’ve believed it, if I hadn’t experienced it all myself. I used to think Marshall was so bizarre because he was into all that otherworldly stuff, but I’d learned it was quite real. I turned in my bed and heard something crackle — a papery sort of crunch. I reached beneath me and pulled out a yellowed sheet of parchment. I sat up and stared at it. The document was quite old and I wondered how it had found its way into my bed. I wasn’t too shocked by it, however, things were always moving around of their own accord in Graymoor. I snapped on the light by my bed and examined my find more closely. October 16, 1870 I took Ellie into town today to have a new dress made. She isn’t allowed to go beyond the yard by herself. I didn’t really mind. I love Ellie. She is so sweet and kind. I held her hand on the way into town and people who passed smiled at us. Everyone loves Ellie.

Ellie took forever to pick out just the right pattern for her dress and even longer to pick out the material. I tried to help her, but I’m just not very good at those things. I spent most of my time looking around the store. It has so many more things than the store where I used to live. It hardly had anything. This one has all kinds of stuff, even balls and bats! I bought a penny’s worth of candy and shared the bag with Ellie on the way home. I made her promise not to tell anyone. We both stuffed ourselves so that we probably wouldn’t be very hungry for supper. I knew Ellie wouldn’t tell. She is good at keeping secrets. Nothing much exciting happened today. I spent the night reading and studying geography. I can’t seem to remember what country is where. I’m getting a few of the states down, though. I don’t want to write about geography, though, I don’t like it! I guess that’s it until tomorrow then. I held the paper under the light. The page looked like it had been torn out of a book, probably a journal. I wondered if it belonged to Edward Graymoor, or maybe William. It probably belonged to one of them. They lived in my house in the 1870s, so I couldn’t think of anyone else who might have written it. I couldn’t remember for sure, but I thought their little sister was named Ellie. It almost had to have been written by one of them.

I looked around the room into the blackness. The bigger question was how the paper had gotten into my bed. I wondered if someone was trying to tell me something. I didn’t see where the paper had much to say. It was pretty boring stuff, really. I was too tired to think about it. I yawned and put it away in a dresser drawer, then fell back on my pillow and closed my eyes.

Avery I was still shaking. I couldn’t believe what I had done. I’d never meant to kill him! I looked down at his still form. Ryan looked so young lying there, so innocent. I looked around in the woods, then was almost overcome with panic. What was I gonna do? The only thing I could think of was to run and so I did. I bolted away from the dead body, running back toward the park. The tree branches and bushes tore at my arms, then I stopped myself after a few moments. What was I doing? I couldn’t go back to the park. I couldn’t let anyone see me. It was getting dark and I had trouble seeing under the trees. It was a wonder I hadn’t run straight into something in my panic. I forced myself to breathe normally, calm down and walk. I changed directions and headed through the woods toward a road that I knew lay somewhere to the north. I’d find the road and then...go somewhere. What had I done? No, I couldn’t think of that now or I’d go crazy. I had to think about what I was gonna do next, not what I’d done. How long would it be before they found Ryan’s body? His parents would know he was missing by the next morning at the latest. They’d be looking for him and, sooner or later, he’d be found. Maybe I should try to hide Ryan’s body. No, that was no good. They’d find him anyway.

I continued making my way through the woods, suppressing my desperate urge to panic. I needed to get away as fast as I possibly could. Everybody would know I did it. They’d put me in jail. I didn’t have any choice. I had to hide. I had to disappear. Fuck ‘em. There was nothing left for me in that cheap little town anyway. My parents hated me. My asshole dad acted like he owned me. I hated him. Now I’d accidentally killed somebody, and they’d be looking for me. No, I couldn’t go back if I wanted. I hit the road soon enough and headed north. I guess it didn’t really matter which direction I went, so long as it led away from where I was now. It was less dark than it had been under the trees, and at least I could see better. I walked faster, putting more distance between myself and the home I’d known all my life. I thought of Ryan lying dead in the leaves, and felt a momentary pang of guilt. I’d only meant to hurt him. What had I done? How could I have killed him like that? My eyes filled with tears. No. I wouldn’t do this to myself. It wasn’t my fault. It was Ryan’s fault. He started it! He was the one who leered at me and checked me out. When I’d taught him a lesson, he refused to learn. He just went to his mommy and told on me. He got me grounded. He forced me to run away from my own home. The more I thought about it, the more I was certain. Ryan was the cause of my problems. It all made sense, don’t you see? If that little faggot hadn’t been checking me out in the first place, I never would’ve beaten him

up, then he wouldn’t have told, and I wouldn’t have had a fight with my dad. I wouldn’t have been upset, and I wouldn’t have taken Ryan into the woods to beat him again. I began to smile. It wasn’t my fault at all. It was his. Ryan made me kill him. If he wasn’t a fag, it wouldn’t have happened. I was tired. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and stared out into the night sky. I didn’t know what time it was, but it was getting late. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been walking, but it must have been over an hour. It was late May, nearly June, but there was still a chill in the air. I was wearing jeans and a shortsleeved shirt. My whole upper body was cold, especially my bare arms. For the next couple of hours, I continued walking until I was too tired to go any farther, then I found myself a place to hide just off the road. I lay down in a patch of thick grass. It wasn’t too uncomfortable, except for the chill. The grass was kind of damp and that added to my discomfort. I wrapped my arms around my body, my teeth chattering, and I tried desperately to keep warm. I was so exhausted, I closed my eyes and prayed for sleep to overtake me. *** I was walking down a corridor that seemed to stretch out forever in front of me. I felt like I was in one of those dreams where a hallway gets longer and longer so

that the end never gets any closer. I looked around me, wondering where I might be. Nothing was familiar and yet I felt as if I’d been there before. Everything was indistinct, as if slightly out of focus. I had the feeling I was in the wrong time, like something out of an old movie. It didn’t feel like the present. I was feeling mischievous and satisfied with myself, although I wasn’t sure why. All I knew was that I’d accomplished something I’d always wanted, but never thought I’d be able to do. Suddenly, I felt a chill go up my spine. The corridor seemed to tilt slightly, but I couldn’t hold on to anything — neither my surroundings, nor my own feelings. Almost in slow motion, a dozen doors opened off the passage I was following. I tried to look at my surroundings, but the harder I stared, the more they receded from me. I fought to remember where I was and why I felt as I did, but nothing came to me. The last time I’d felt like this, I was getting stoned off my ass with Joey. A self-satisfied smirk appeared on my face, but I didn’t understand the reason for it. I could almost remember why I felt content and yet terrified at the same time... but not quite. It was like a name that I could nearly remember, but remained maddeningly just out of my grasp. Suddenly, my vision became blurred and everything took on a misty look. I realized that I was dreaming, but I was conscious within my dream. I desperately tried to bring my surroundings into focus, but the more I tried, the more they slipped away...

Now, I was no longer in the hallway. I walked through a forest. It had the same misty, indistinct, almost unreal quality of the rest of my dream. I could hear something behind me moving through the trees. I walked faster, but it came closer and closer. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. I knew that something was following me. I tried to lose it in the thick undergrowth. I ran, slipping in and out among the shrubs. I found a large bunch of honeysuckle and hid myself within it. I sat crouched there, shaking with fear. The leaves rustled as hands pulled it apart. I trembled. Ryan looked down at me. “No!” I cried, shaking my head. Ryan’s face was pasty white and bloodied. There were bruises on his face and arms, and I could see dried blood around his mouth and nose. His eyes were wide open, sticky and lifeless, almost inhuman, the pupils rolled up into the sockets. He reached out for me with claw-like hands. I backed away, but became hopelessly tangled in the honeysuckle. I screamed as he grabbed my head in his hands and stared at me with his dead eyes... I jerked upright, holding my hand to my heart. It was pounding furiously. I was soaking wet, chilled to the bone and trembling. I had the feeling I’d screamed out loud, but there was no one to hear. I looked around me in the darkness, almost as if I expected Ryan to be there, but it had only been a dream. Or was he haunting me? I was more terrified than I’d ever been in my entire life.

I lay back down and tried to burrow into the grass for warmth. I was cold and miserable. I shivered as a slight breeze stole my body heat away from me. The night air was only a little chilly, but I felt as if I could die of exposure. I don’t know what I’d have done if it was fall, or worse — winter. I lay there staring at the cloudless sky, trying to block the memory of Ryan’s face from my mind. Finally, I shut my eyes tight and surrendered to the blackness. To my immense relief, there were no more dreams that night. *** When I awoke, the sun was shining down bright and warm upon me. I was thankful for the warmth and just lay there for a few moments basking in it. My shirt was damp, but I knew it’d dry soon in the sun. My stomach growled with hunger. I thought longingly of the oatmeal and bacon that I often had for breakfast at home... but I didn’t have a home anymore. I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t go back; I’d never go back. Still, the memory of it tormented me. I could almost smell the bacon — fried just right, limp, chewy, and delicious. My empty stomach protested again, but there was nothing to eat, but the grass. I staggered up to my feet and began walking on the deserted road again. After a few minutes, the exercise warmed me up and the chill of the night before finally left me. I wondered if they’d found Ryan yet, and if they were looking for me. I had no choice. I knew I had

to put as much distance between myself and my former home as I could. I had no idea of what lay ahead. I had no clue as to what I was going to eat for lunch, or if I’d even get any. I had almost no money, no nothin’ — only the clothes on my back. I didn’t know where I was going, or how I would get there, or even how I’d survive the coming day. The future beyond that was even fuzzier than my dreams of the night before. I shook my head and tried not to think of them. They haunted me even in the bright light of day, as did the guilt of what I had done last night. I walked and walked until my feet were aching, no more sure of my future than I’d been when I’d taken my first step last night. In the early afternoon, I heard a car coming up behind me. There’d been several since the morning, but I’d always managed to duck out of sight. This time, I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t pay any attention until it was too late to hide. I’d look suspicious darting off the side of the road into the woods, so I just kept walking. The car slowed as it drew near, and I tensed. I was ready to bolt if need be. I turned my head and looked as the car pulled up to me, and stopped. Inside was a middle-aged, pleasantlooking man with dark hair. “You look like you could use a lift,” he said. I was frightened, but he seemed nice enough. “Um, yeah,” I said. “If you don’t mind.”

He smiled and gestured towards the empty seat beside him. “Hop in.” I opened the passenger door and got in. It was an old car, from the sixties or something, but well kept. “Where are you headed?” “Um, I’m going to Minneapolis to visit my aunt,” I lied quickly. I was accustomed to lying. It came easy to me. “Now that is a long walk.” I had the feeling he didn’t believe me “I’m Ron,” he said. “Avery.” Shit! Why had I given him my real name? I was so stupid. “Nice to meet you, Avery. I’m only going to Waterville, but that’ll get you fifteen miles closer to where you’re going.” “Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it.” I was nervous. I felt like I’d stepped into an afterschool TV special or something. A vision of myself bound and gagged in the trunk of the old car flashed through my mind. I glanced at the man next to me as we bumped down the road. Ron seemed nice enough. He was smiling and talking, barely looking at me. Maybe he was just what he appeared to be, a nice guy. I felt stupid for getting into his car. I’d put myself into a bad situation. What if there were already “Wanted” posters with my picture on them, and Ron was driving me straight to a police station? What if he

wasn’t as nice as he seemed? What if he was a queer and put his hand on my leg? Or what if it was worse than that? What if he overpowered me and did perverted sexual shit to me? What if he was a deranged psycho who’d have my liver for dinner? I began to tremble with the thoughts of what could happen. For the whole drive, I was wishing I’d just walked. We talked as Ron drove, but didn’t say anything very meaningful. I was too nervous and he seemed to want to keep things casual. Mainly we talked about the weather, and stuff like that. As I sat by him, the thought occurred to me that I must look like shit. I’d no more than run my fingers through my hair before starting out. I looked down at my shirt. My clothes were wrinkled from sleeping in them, my teeth felt like they were covered with moss, and I could faintly smell my own underarms. I hoped that Ron couldn’t. Then again, if he was some kinda pervert, maybe me smelling bad would keep him away, like some kind of repellant. Or, if he was a pervert, maybe it might excite him all the more. Ron didn’t mention anything about my appearance. He seemed to be avoiding any conversation that was personal in nature. He probably thought I was a runaway or something — which I guess I was. Later on, we arrived at Waterville and Ron let me out. I thanked him, then watched as he drove away, the old car wheezing into the distance. I let out a sigh of relief. I guess he wasn’t a queer or anything like that. He hadn’t tried anything with me. I felt a pang of regret. Shit. Now that I knew Ron was okay, I thought it

was too bad he wasn’t going farther. I could’ve used a long ride. Then again, if he’d been going farther, I’d still have been sitting in his car, wondering if he was gonna grope me or something. I almost wished I’d asked him for some money, because I was ravenously hungry. I felt in my pockets and found some change there. It wasn’t much, not even a buck, but I could at least get a little something to eat. There was a little supermarket in the distance and I made for it. The moment I stepped inside, I felt like I was being tortured. I was so hungry that everything looked delicious. I’d never wanted donuts, or fried chicken, or anything else so badly in all my life. I looked around. I had to make the most of my ninety-seven cents. That little bit of change seemed so valuable now. I longingly thought of the twenty bucks a week my parents gave me for an allowance. I’d always thought it was nothing; now it seemed like a fortune. I could’ve bought a feast with it. Before finishing my shopping, I went into the restroom and tried to wash up in the sink. It felt good to get my face clean. It was also nice to go to the bathroom indoors. Just outside the restroom was a water fountain. I took a good long drink. I had to be careful. I wasn’t gonna use any of my precious funds on something to drink when I could get free water. I looked around the store, dreaming about buying a bag of cookies or one of those roasted chickens by the deli section. That was far beyond my means, so I decided on a pack of peanut butter crackers and a

couple of quarter brownies. It left me with almost no money, but at least it was something to eat. I pulled out one of the brownies as soon as I was out of the store and devoured it. I’d never been so hungry before. I started walking through town, toward the road that I knew would take me on to Minneapolis. I needed to lose myself in a big city, to go where no one could find me. I took out the pack of peanut butter crackers and ate them slowly. I didn’t want them to disappear in seconds like the brownie. I wanted to make each one last. I savored every bite. They were delicious. All too soon, the crackers were gone. I knew I should save the last brownie for later, but I was just too hungry. I sighed, took it out of the bag, and began nibbling it. I was far from full when I was finished, but I felt a lot better than I had an hour ago. I just wondered what I was going to do for my next meal. I had less than a dime left in my pocket. There was another supermarket at the far edge of town. I couldn’t afford anything, but I went in to use the bathroom and get another drink. I’d drank so much water earlier that I had to go bad. I lucked out in the supermarket. They were giving away free samples of pizza and submarine sandwiches. The samples weren’t big, but they seemed like a feast to me. Before I left, I drank a lot more water. I knew I’d be needing to go to the bathroom bad later, but at least it made me feel more full.

The sun was hanging low in the sky now. I headed out of town on an old paved road, steering clear of the main highway. The road was nearly empty, and I scurried out of sight whenever I heard a car coming. I knew a sixteen-year-old boy walking down the road by himself was suspicious, and the authorities were probably looking for me. I wanted to get to Minneapolis as fast as I could to lose myself in the anonymous crowds.

Sean I could tell Nick was upset again. We’d been working side by side in the hayloft moving bales of straw and hay when he went quiet on me again. We’d been talking about nothing in particular when he suddenly grew silent. One look at him told me something was wrong. I felt so bad for him. It must be horrible to be so happy one moment, then totally out of it the next. I stopped what I was doing and put my hand on his shoulder. “Hey — are you okay, Nick?” “Not really,” he said sadly. “You still thinkin’ about your parents?” He shook his head. “No.” “What then?” “I don’t know,” he said, sitting down on a bale of straw. He was nearly in tears. “Sometimes, I just feel real bad all of a sudden, for no reason. It just... drops down on me, like someone threw a blanket of misery over my head.” I sat by him and held his hand. “I’m sorry, Nick.” “It’s not your fault. It’s me. I’m kinda screwed up.” “How can I help?” I asked.

He wiped his eyes. “I’ll be okay in awhile, probably. When this happens, I try to just tell myself that I’m feeling bad for no reason. I tell myself that there’s no reason I shouldn’t be happy. Sometimes, it works pretty well. But it seems like more and more, I just can’t shake it.” I pulled Nick to me. I knew one thing that might change his mood, or at least get his mind off it. I pressed my lips to his and kissed him. Nick kissed me back hungrily. I knew it wasn’t just physical; it was a hunger for love. He needed it badly. I knew Ethan and Nathan loved him as their own son, but he needed another kind of affection now. I was glad I was there to give it to him. I kissed Nick more deeply still, and pulled him to me. I held him as if protecting him from whatever ailed him. He kissed me back, focusing on just me. He tugged at my shirt and I let him pull it over my head, and I yanked off his shirt as well. Nick grabbed me and kissed me again, pressing his firm chest into my own. He slowly pushed me down onto my back and lay on top of me as we necked. He pressed against me. “I want you so bad,” he whispered. He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he worked my shorts and boxers down. He pulled his off as well, then lay full length upon me, rubbing himself against me, breathing harder and harder. We were both sweating and his smooth body slid against mine. I moaned. “Nick, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna...”

He covered my mouth with his lips as he kissed me again. I moaned into his mouth. I couldn’t hold it back. In moments, Nick moaned too and I felt a familiar wetness in my groin. Nick slowly stopped rubbing himself against me, until he was still. He kept kissing me and I held him in my arms. Nick pulled his lips from mine and wiped my sweaty hair off my forehead. He smiled at me. “Better?” I asked. “Much better.” Nick arched his eyebrows at me. He looked so sexy I just wanted to eat him up. We got to our feet and pulled our shorts back up. Bits of straw were sticking to our sweaty bodies. We wiped it off each other and cleaned up with an old rag. I watched Nick as he dressed. He grinned at me. I could tell the sad mood had left him, as quickly as it had come. I was still worried about him. I wasn’t sure what I could do to help him, but I knew I’d do whatever I could. “Oh,” I said, hoping to keep him from slipping back into a sad mood, “Something weird happened last night, back at the house.” “What?” I could tell from the tone of Nick’s voice that he was interested. He liked hearing about the strange stuff that sometimes went on at Graymoor, and recently there’d been nothing to tell. I pulled my shirt down over my head. “I found part of what I think is a journal in my bed.” “In your bed?”

“Yeah. It was weird. I have no idea how it got there. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there when I went to sleep, but when I woke up later — boom, there it was.” He gave me a curious look. “Wow. What did it say?” “Not much, but I think it belonged to one of the Graymoor boys.” “One of the boys that was murdered in your house?” “Yeah.” “You haven’t seen them again, have you?” “No.” “Too bad. I’ve gotta see what you did.” “You sound just like Marshall.” “Well, he got to see it, and he isn’t even your boyfriend.” Nick was talking about the grisly re-enactment of the Graymoor murders that sometimes played itself out in my very own home. It had happened several times, although not once in recent weeks. My friend Marshall said I wasn’t seeing real ghosts, only scenes from the past, but it didn’t matter. I was fascinated nonetheless, and so was Nick, although he’d never had the opportunity to witness it for himself. “Think there’s a chance I’ll get to see it?” asked Nick excitedly. “I don’t know, but I think something’s beginning to stir in Graymoor once more. Pages from hundred-year old journals don’t just go flying around the house by themselves.”

“Maybe they do in your house,” he said, laughing. “Maybe.” “Oh, I hope I get to see something!” said Nick. I smiled. I knew he wouldn’t be sad now. Thanks to me, I was certain his mind was too occupied with thoughts of ghosts and mysterious notes for the specter of sadness to slip back in.

Avery It was only a couple of days since I’d left Waterville, but it seemed like forever. I’d spent another uncomfortable night by the side of the road, chilled and frightened. I was so hungry my stomach ached. I desperately wished I had a brownie left, but they were long gone. Fuck! How had I gotten myself into this situation? How had things gotten so out of control? Most of the time, I couldn’t believe I’d really killed Ryan. I just couldn’t. It didn’t matter what I believed. There was no denying it, and I couldn’t go back because of it. I’m not sure I wanted to go back anyway. I hated my dad, how he treated me like his damned property. All it was with him was rules, rules, and more rules, and punishments if I didn’t follow them. My dad was some kind of control freak or something. He got off on the power he had over me. But I’d shown him this time. I’d told him to fuck off and I’d left. My stomach grumbled again. I wished it would stop that. I pulled some grasses from the side of the road and sucked on them. It didn’t help in the least. I wished I could find an apple tree or something, but there wouldn’t be any apples yet. Hunger clawed at me. I was about ready to start eating bark off the trees. I wondered if I could catch a rabbit or something and cook it. I thought about eating

some plants, but I didn’t know which ones were poisonous and which were not. I silently cursed myself for not paying more attention to that kind of stuff in school — not that they’d taught survival tactics very often. Most of what we learned was useless crap. I wished I could find some wild strawberries or something, but there was nothing to be found. I was so hungry I was getting shaky. If I had a hundred bucks, I would’ve gladly given it for a chocolate bar. No, that wasn’t true. If I had a hundred bucks, I’d have gone and bought all the food I wanted, then saved whatever was left for later. Not knowing where my next meal was coming from made me feel dejected, frightened, and helpless. Would I manage to find anything for lunch? For supper? For breakfast tomorrow? Or would I still be starving days from now? How long could I go without food? I felt like I couldn’t hold out for another minute, but as there was nothing to eat, I had no choice. I tried to keep walking at a steady pace, but it was hard to keep myself going. I was tired and didn’t have the energy. I was still wearing the same clothes I had the day before and they stank. As bad as my shirt smelled, I didn’t even want to think about what my boxers must be like. I’d never given much thought to clean clothes and a clean body before, but I’d have given a lot for a bath and some fresh underwear and socks. I was growing more and more angry with Ryan. Fuckin’ faggot! He’d ruined my life. It was his fault

that I was homeless and hungry and dirty. I’d left home by my own choice, but I’d have gone back sooner or later if it wasn’t for him. I knew that now. Thanks to Ryan, I could never go back. Why did he have to die on me? Why did he have to provoke me into killing him? I hated him. He was dead, so his problems were over, but my problems were growing worse by the minute. I was beginning to think that I’d be better off dead, too. I looked at the road ahead of me. It looked pretty much the same as it had all day, and the day before, and the day before that. It was just a road, with trees along the sides, and sometimes wide open fields. It was boring. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice the pickup truck until it was practically upon me. It slowed, then stopped beside me. A man in his late twenties slid across the seat and poked his head out the open window. “Hey, kid — need a lift?” For an answer, I opened the door of the truck and got in. It felt so good just to sit down. My feet ached like hell. I knew getting in his truck might be a mistake, but the guy I’d ridden with before was cool, so hopefully this one would be, too. The truth was, I was too hungry and tired to walk. I knew I was taking a chance, but I just didn’t care. I wasn’t going to pass up a ride out of fear. “I’m Dave,” he said, as he put the truck in gear and hit the gas.

I started to tell him my real name, but caught myself in time. “I’m Brad,” I told him. I’d always liked the name ‘Brad.’ It sounded tough. He grinned at me. “So, what’re you doin’ out here in the middle of nowhere, Brad?” “Nothing in particular. Just headin’ for Minneapolis.” I was glad the windows were down in the truck. I had a feeling my body odor would’ve been overpowering in the enclosed cab it they weren’t. It could get chilly at night, but it was still very warm during the day. I’d been sweating and it did nothing to improve my scent. Dave looked at me appraisingly. There was something in his gaze I didn’t like. It made me feel vulnerable, almost naked. The feelings of panic I’d had when I hitched a ride with Ron were coming back. I took a deep breath and tried not to worry. I was just being stupid. “Did you run away from home, Brad?” he asked. I looked at him fearfully before I could stop myself. He knew already. “Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. “I won’t turn you in. You just seem a bit young to be wanderin’ around on your own.” There were a couple of candy bars on the seat between us. Dave picked one up and absentmindedly ate it as he spoke.

“Yeah,” I admitted, “I ran away. I had to. My dad... he, he beat me.” It was a lie. My dad never beat me. He’d never so much as touched me, but I enjoyed telling Dave that. It had good shock value and would probably get me some sympathy. This just might work after all. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, dude.” I looked hungrily at the candy bar Dave was munching on. He noticed. “I’m sorry. You wanna candy bar?” he asked. I nodded furiously. “Yeah, I would. Thanks, man.” Dave handed me the other bar and I tore open the wrapper, my hands shaking. I tried not to devour it like I was starving, but I was so ravenous I couldn’t help myself. “You must be hungry,” said Dave. “Yes,” I said, smacking my lips. I didn’t see any harm in admitting that. Maybe he even had another candy bar stuck away somewhere he’d give me. I wouldn’t be too proud to take it. He gave me a sideways glance. “So, Brad... Did your dad ever do anything else to you — besides beat you?” “What do you mean?” He thought for a moment. “Well, for example... did he ever, you know... touch you? Like, uh... someplace he shouldn’t?” Dave was looking at me. He wasn’t like Ron, the older guy who had picked me up a couple days before.

Ron steered the conversation away from anything personal. This guy was asking intimately personal questions right off the bat. Ron was just a nice old dude giving me a lift. Dave wasn’t so nice. “No,” I said. I was becoming uncomfortable. “What would you have done if he did?” “I dunno.” “You have a girlfriend, Brad?” “Yes, well... I did.” “Did you and her ever...?” He didn’t finish the question, but I knew what he meant. I glared at him. “No, we didn’t.” He nodded. “That must’ve been very frustrating for a boy your age. I know it was for me.” “I guess.” I tried to stare out the window. I didn’t like where this conversation was going. I didn’t want to stop talking to Dave though. If I did, he might make me get out and every second that passed got me a lot farther along my way. My feet were sore and blistered from walking, and I was so very tired. Besides, I was still hoping he had something else to eat. That candy bar was the most delicious thing I’d ever had, but I was still desperately hungry. “Do you masturbate a lot, Brad?” The conversation was getting more and more uncomfortable. Dave made me feel vulnerable and

afraid. Still, I didn’t want to get out of that truck. I was desperate. “You know what I mean,” he continued. “You jackoff much? Beat the meat?” I hesitated before answering. “Yes.” “It’s okay, Brad, all boys do. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He paused. “So, ah... when was the last time you did it?” “I don’t remember. I’ve had other things on my mind.” He moved his right hand up to my shoulder. “You must be feeling very... tense,” he said, soothingly. “Um, uh...I guess.” “Has anyone ever jerked it for you?” “A couple girls,” I lied. I didn’t want to admit I was a virgin, and I wanted to say “girls” to make it clear I wasn’t a fag. His arm was behind my back now. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked. “Yes.” “I’d like to make you feel good, Brad.” I froze. Silence. I just sat there, stunned. I knew things were heading in this direction, but when he said the words, I felt a wave of panic. I didn’t know what to say, or do. “There’s a good burger place just up the road,” he said quietly. “They’ve got the best burgers and fries

around, and great shakes. Swear to god.” Dave paused, turning to look at me for a moment. My heart was racing in my chest and my breath was coming a little faster. I felt desperate and vulnerable. I felt like I was eight years old, instead of sixteen. I glanced out the side window, and thought for a moment about jumping out of the truck, while it was still moving. Judging by the trees whipping by, we were going at least fifty. “If you’ll let me make you feel good, Brad, I’ll take you there and you can have anything you want,” he said in a low voice. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Brad?” I was disgusted. I was also very, very hungry. My mouth began to salivate uncontrollably, just at the thought of hot food again. “Make me feel good?” I asked in a small voice. “I just want to feel it, Brad, nothing more. You don’t have to do anything, just lean back and enjoy it.” I sat there, still staring out the window. I was on the verge of crying. “So... can I touch you, Brad?” A few moments more passed and I nodded my head. Dave motioned for me to scoot closer, and I did. He kept one hand on the steering wheel, and with the other he groped me. He unfastened my belt and undid my jeans. Despite myself, I was getting excited. It’d been days since I’d even thought about jacking off. Dave worked his hand into my jeans and pulled out my manhood. He felt it, and I moaned.

I didn’t look at Dave. I kept my head turned to the window and my hands at my side. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I didn’t even want to acknowledge what was happening. A tear rolled down my cheek. His hand on me felt good, but I hated it. I hated being touched, and I hated him for doing it. Fuckin’ faggot! I hated him for taking advantage of me. And I hated myself for letting him. The moment he touched me, an involuntary moan slipped from my lips. Dave moved his hand up and down. It felt so good I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning again. I didn’t want him to think I liked it. But it felt so different than when I did it myself. It felt so much better. I didn’t want to enjoy it, but it felt so fucking good. Dave definitely knew what he was doing. Less than a minute later, my hips bucked uncontrollably and I felt a surge, then a warm wetness on my legs. Dave pulled his hand away. I quickly zipped up, feeling thoroughly humiliated and used. I wanted to kill him for what he’d done to me, but instead, I pretended I didn’t mind so much. “Like that?” he asked, wiping off his hand on a Kleenex. “Yeah,” I lied. I hated him so much I want to smash my fist into his face. He was a lot bigger than me though, and I needed him. He handed me a tissue and I wiped off the sticky mess from my shirt and the truck seat. A few minutes later, we stopped at the burger place he mentioned. It wasn’t much to look at, but the smell

of the food was heavenly. We sat at a booth with a cheap plastic tablecloth and the waitress brought us menus. Dave was as good as his word. I ordered a double cheeseburger, a fish sandwich, a barbecue sandwich, large fries, a large soft drink, and a large chocolate shake. Dave didn’t object. In fact he asked if I’d like anything else. When the food came, I dove into it. I tried not to eat like some kind of wild animal, but I couldn’t help it. It all tasted so good and I was fuckin’ starving. I ate and ate. I’d never been so hungry before. The waitress was amazed that I went through all that food. I even ordered a banana split after everything else and ate every last bit. I was full for the first time in days. Ten minutes later, I knew I’d made a mistake. I’d stuffed myself to the point of misery. But that wasn’t why I didn’t feel good. I knew what I’d had to go through, just to get something to eat. What was worse was that I knew I’d do it again if I had to. Dave knew it, too. He looked at me and smiled. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I felt frightened, and powerless.

Sean It was early June at last! I loved summer. I loved the warmth and the vacation from school. Most of all, I loved it because I spent almost all my time on the farm with Nick, Ethan, and Nathan. Not only did I make a whole lot of money working on the farm, I got a great tan and spent all my time outside. Farm work was hard sometimes, but I loved it. Of course, working side by side with my boyfriend didn’t hurt matters, especially on hot days when he wore no shirt, which was most of the time. Yum. Nick’s physical appearance aside, I knew I was very lucky to have him. Any boy who had a boyfriend he loved was lucky. Ethan and Nathan had taught me there’s nothing more important in all the world than loving, and being loved. Maybe I wasn’t exactly beautiful (okay, I wasn’t beautiful at all), and I didn’t have hard muscles (yet), but I had what was really important — and for that I was thankful. I looked outside and used my finger to trace the raindrops on the window as they rolled down. It wasn’t a typical summer day, of course it wasn’t officially summer just yet. It was only 6:30 in the evening, but the clouds were so thick it was already dark outside. It made Graymoor spookier than ever, not that it needed any help. Graymoor Mansion was as old as time itself and vast as a shopping mall. Well, not quite, but it was

sure the biggest house I’d ever seen. Its age and immense size made it seem menacing, although I’d grown to love living there. I wondered where Mom was. She was in the house, but I hadn’t seen her since I got home. That wasn’t unusual. She was probably cleaning. We spent more time than I cared to admit dusting that old house. It was one thing I didn’t like about Graymoor. Even though most of it was closed up and untouched, it took so long to dust the parts of the house we did use that we had to start all over again as soon as we were finished. The Graymoor family must have had a ton of servants or something to take care of that place. We’d lived there for weeks and hadn’t even been in some of the rooms yet. I couldn’t imagine keeping it all clean. Even though I’d been with Nick less than an hour before, I yearned to be with him. I felt like I’d been away from him forever. It was amazing how much I missed him when he wasn’t there. Tomorrow, we’d be back working together side by side, but that seemed an eternity away as I watched the torrential rain hit the window panes. I looked at Nick’s picture beside my bed and smiled. There was another picture hanging close by on the wall, but it was far older. It was of Edward Graymoor and his brother, William. My room had been Edward’s room, once upon a time, and even the furniture in the room hadn’t changed. Nothing changed at Graymoor. It looked almost exactly as it must have when Edward and William were alive, more than a hundred years before.

I felt close to Edward, and not only because I shared his room across time. There was a kinship between us. He felt like a friend, and more. I yearned to learn more about him... but perhaps I knew too much already. I felt a cold shudder. Edward had been murdered in my very own bed. Every time I thought of that, it saddened me. His was a life cut short. He died long before his time. He was resting in his sarcophagus a hundred years before I was born in any case, but it didn’t matter. No one should ever die so young. I wondered about the journal page I’d found in my bed. Was it written by Edward, or by his adopted brother, William? Was there more of it lying about? I thought about searching for more of the journal — if it really was a journal, which seemed likely. Graymoor was so huge that I had no idea where to look. It was kind of like one of my dad’s archaeological sites. I could look forever and never find anything, even if it was there, right out in the open. The rain fell as if it would never stop, creating puddles on the ground, far, far below. It seemed to rain a lot at Graymoor. Sometimes I felt as if the sky shed tears for Edward and William, even after all this time. I turned from the window, lay back on the bed, and left my gloomy thoughts behind. I thought instead of my boyfriend and how much I loved him. A year before, I’d never have believed I’d be so happy, or so lucky. It was odd how time changed things. I just hoped time — and fate — would never take Nick away from me.

Avery I was very tempted to part company with Dave at the restaurant. I didn’t like being near him because of what had happened between us. I was also a little afraid of him — but I was afraid to be alone too. I knew what it was like to be cold and hungry. I’d never been hungry like that before, and I wasn’t eager to be that hungry again. I wasn’t sure what to do, so when Dave walked toward the truck, I meekly followed him and got in again. Much to my relief, he didn’t ask me any more embarrassing questions and he didn’t try to touch me again. He looked at me a lot, but that was it. The miles slipped by, taking me farther and farther from my former home and closer and closer to the anonymity of Minneapolis. My sore feet reminded me of the value of the ride Dave was giving me. And my full stomach was a reminder of what sticking with him was worth. The ride and the food had come with a high price. I never thought I’d do something like that. I never thought I’d let a queer touch my most private area. Of course, I never thought I’d be on the run for killing someone, or so hungry that I’d try to eat grass. Dave was smiling at me... or was that a smirk instead of a smile? I hated him. Fuckin’ faggot. He knew he’d taken advantage of me. He knew I’d let him in my pants just to get something to eat. He knew he’d bought me

and that I’d sold myself to him. He knew he had control over me, just because he could give me what I needed: a ride and food. I hated him. I wanted nothing more than to kick him in the nuts for it. I didn’t let Dave know what I was feeling. Instead, I smiled at him now and then, hiding the fact that I wanted to strangle him for touching me. I despised him, but I was amazed at how easily I could pretend I liked him. I pretended I was grateful for what he’d done for me, and he was stupid enough to fall for it. The trees and fields sped past my window. I spent a lot of time watching the scenery, mainly because that way I didn’t have to look at Dave and think about what I’d done. The truck bed squeaked every time we hit a bump in the road, which was often. Rural Minnesota didn’t exactly have the best roads. I could hear the roar of the tires on the pavement beneath me. I didn’t usually pay attention to little details like that, but I’d do anything to keep my mind off Dave. I couldn’t escape him, though, he was sitting a mere two feet away. I was full and I began to grow sleepy. I hadn’t rested well in quite awhile and my eyes slowly closed. Before I knew it, I fell into a dream... and yet it was as if I was still awake. I was riding in the truck with Dave, but something was different. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and my hands were suddenly damp with perspiration. I knew that whatever I did, I shouldn’t look behind me. My heart raced and I began to breathe faster. I felt terror clawing at the back of my head. Something was

definitely back there, crawling around in the flatbed of the truck. I didn’t dare to turn and look, and yet I felt compelled to do so. I was trapped in that moment of sheer terror for an eternity, knowing I could not look, yet knowing that I must. Finally, after what felt like centuries, I slowly turned my head, looked into the back of the truck, and screamed. Ryan was staring at me, with dead eyes and a face that was purple and putrid. His nose was pressed right to the glass and I could see dried blood on his mouth and chin. He was bruised where I’d beaten him, and his flesh was beginning to rot. I could sense a horrible smell emanating from the window. His eyes looked filmy, but they gazed at me accusingly. I couldn’t stand him looking at me with those dead eyes. My gaze fell to Ryan’s chest. It was not moving. He was not breathing. He was dead, but he had come for me. He pressed his hands against the glass of the window, reaching for me, his claw-like fingernails leaving scratches on the glass. I screamed again in terror and all went black. I opened my eyes, and yet I knew I was still dreaming. I was no longer in the truck. I was spying on a boy from behind a fence. He was about my age. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his arms, back and pecs were massive. He was splitting wood and was very hot and sweaty. Somehow, the sight of his sweaty body aroused me. I wanted him. I felt a hunger within me that ached. “No. No. No!”

I awoke with a start. Dave was looking at me. His hand was on my shoulder. We were back in the truck, still moving down the highway. “Bad dream?” he asked. “Yeah. Very bad,” I told him, shuddering at the memory. I was awake and the sun was shining brightly, but I was still consumed with fear. I didn’t know what part of the dream scared me more. The sight of Ryan had filled me with terror, but the feelings I felt forced upon me as I watched the boy splitting wood were even more frightening in a way. I felt as if I were possessed... possessed by a fuckin’ fag! I felt my body responding to the sight of the boy in ways that I didn’t understand, let alone like. Ryan terrified me, but the second part of my dream was still the worst. I looked at Dave beside me. It was his fault that I had that dream. Just being near him had contaminated my mind. I recoiled from the images in my dream. They were disgusting. Was that what fags felt when they looked at another guy? Was that what Ryan had felt when he checked me out, and what Dave felt when he looked at me? It made my skin crawl. “I have a proposition for you, Brad,” said Dave, breaking into my thoughts. “I’m listening,” I said evenly. “I’m gonna spend the night in a motel.” He paused, looking at me, his eyes roving over my body. He made me feel dirty. “Look. I know you’re probably in

desperate need of some cash, and you’ve got something I want. Perhaps we can, y’know... make a deal?” He licked his lips. I wished I had a knife right then so I could stick it in him. “Go on,” I said. A plan was forming in my head. Maybe there was a way I could get his money, without selling myself for it. “I’ve never done this before. My wife would kill me if she knew, but..." “Your wife?” I said, incredulously. “You’re married?” He laughed. “Yeah, I have a wife, and two kids.” “But you’re a fag. I mean...” Shit, I shouldn’t have said that. I was afraid he’d kick me out right then and there, or hit me in the face or something. “I’m sorry,” I said. He didn’t seem to take offense, but his eyes narrowed. “I’m bisexual,” he said. “You look like an older version of my son. For quite awhile now I’ve been wanting... Well, never mind that.” I thought I was going to be sick. I came so close to asking him to stop and let me out. Only my desperation, and the plan I had forming in my head, stopped me. He was a pervert. I didn’t care if he screwed women too, he was still a fag. A nasty, disgusting, child-molesting fag! They were all alike. Suddenly, I wasn’t sorry at all I’d

killed Ryan. He’d have probably grown up to be just like Dave. I’d done the world a favor by accident. “Here’s the deal,” he continued. “You stay with me tonight. You let me do whatever I want with you and I’ll drive you all the way to Minneapolis and give you a hundred bucks besides.” I glared at him. “Let you do anything you want? You mean sex — right?” He laughed. “Don’t be naïve, Brad. Of course I mean sex! You think I’m gonna pay a nasty little boy like you $100 to wash my truck and make up the bed for me in the morning?” I hated how he was talking to me, but I held my tongue. “I’m not a queer,” I said icily. “No one said you were. Besides, it’s all the more exciting because you’re a straight kid.” “Why?” “Because you’re only doin’ it for the money. Because I’ll be the first guy that’s ever had you. I will be the first — won’t I, Brad?” “Yes.” Dave smiled. I hated being controlled by him. My mind started going through the possibilities of what lay ahead of me. “You won’t... hurt me, will you?”

“No, I won’t hurt you. So is it a deal, or do you want me to let you off right here?” He gestured to the road outside. That was clear enough. It was either his way, or the highway. I didn’t have much of a choice, and besides, I had a plan. I intended to get his hundred bucks and whatever else he had, without letting him touch me. “Deal,” I said. He smiled and leered at me, no doubt thinking about what he was going to be doing with me later that night. *** I was nervous as we stepped into the cheap motel room. Just being there with him made me feel like a whore. As soon as he closed the door, he pulled me to him and kissed me on the lips. I pushed myself away from him and wiped my lips off on my arm. “Go take a shower,” he said, pointing to the bathroom. “You smell.” I didn’t like the way he was treating me. He was gonna pay for it soon, but I did as I was told for the time being. He was right — I did smell. I desperately needed a shower. I stripped in the bathroom, climbed into the stall, and pulled the curtain. I turned on the hot water. It felt so good. I shampooed my hair. It was so greasy and nasty that the oil in it killed the suds. I rinsed the shampoo

out and put on more. I felt a sense of relief wash over me as the spray cascaded down my back. I ran the soapy washcloth over my skin. It felt so good. I’d only been on the run for three days, or was it four, or five? No matter. I hadn’t been on the run long, but it felt like forever. I closed my eyes and let the suds rinse off. I’d forgotten how good it felt just to be clean. When I stepped out of the shower, I noticed that my clothes were gone. I dried off, then wrapped a towel around my waist before going back out into the room. I stared at Dave, who was standing by the bed. “Where’s my clothes?” I asked suspiciously. “I went to the laundry room and put them in a machine. They stink.” Shit! That was gonna complicate matters. It would make it a lot harder for me to leave quickly. “Come here,” he ordered. I slowly walked toward him, my teeth chattering slightly, feeling naked in only a towel. As soon as I got near, he ripped the towel away and pushed me onto the bed. I sat on the edge of it as he got on his knees in front of me. He disgusted me. He leered at my nudity, making me feel cheap and nasty. He leaned toward my crotch. I eyed the lamp on the bedside stand. Yes, this was perfect. With one quick move, I could grab it and smash it over his head. That was my plan, to knock him out cold. Once I did it, I’d take his money, and his truck. I’d drive to Minneapolis

or wherever and ditch it. I’d get so far away that the authorities would never be able to find me. Dave drew closer and closer. I was so nervous I was shaking. At the last moment I grabbed for the lamp and raised it in the air. Dave was too fast for me. He grabbed my wrist and squeezed it until the pain made me drop the lamp. It broke on the floor. His eyes were murderous. He slapped me across the face, hard. “What are you doing, you little bitch? Huh?” I looked at him in sheer terror. I started to scream for help, but he clamped his hand over my mouth and twisted my right arm behind my back and slammed me face-down on the bed. His weight bore down on me and I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I bit at his hand and he slapped me again, then held me down while he stuffed a pillow case in my mouth. I fought him, but I couldn’t stop him; I was just too weak. The next thing I knew, he’d tied my hands behind my back with a sheet. It was a nightmare. I was gonna die. “I was willing to help you,” he said, breathing faster as he unbuckled his belt. “I was just going to have a little fun with you, then pay you for it. But now I’m gonna take what I want and give you nothin’. You arrogant little bitch! Who the fuck do you think you are?” I shook with terror. I screamed but it came out muffled through the gag.

I could hear Dave pulling off his clothes. He lowered himself upon me. He was naked, his chest hair scratching against my back. I felt him press against me, and I screamed as he entered me. The searing pain almost made me pass out. I couldn’t stand it. It was worse than anything. He began a slow, rocking motion and grunted in my ear. I wanted to die.

Sean Just as I liked to go to the farm to get away from home, sometimes Nick liked to come to Graymoor just to get away from the farm. I almost couldn’t imagine him having a need to get away from such an idyllic setting, but then he couldn’t understand why I sometimes needed to get away from Graymoor Mansion, with its endless mysteries to explore. I guess we both just had the need for something different now and then. One advantage of being in Graymoor, with its many rooms, was that Nick and I finally had a chance to be alone. It wasn’t too hard to steal a kiss now and then, or even lay down on a bed in a distant room and spend several minutes making out. And when Nick stayed the night... well, things got even more intense. Whew! It was usually too risky doing anything in my bedroom, or the one Nick was supposed to be using when he spent the night. My parents could poke their head in any minute, or listen as they passed. Heavy breathing and moaning would surely have given us away. I stuffed my bed with rolled-up blankets, to make it look like I was still there, then crept down the hall to Nick’s room. He was waiting on me. “What took you so long?” he whispered. “I wanted to make sure Mom and Dad were asleep. I shouldn’t have to remind you — we almost got caught last time.”

It was true. Our impatience had nearly cost us when Nick stayed the night, not all that long ago. Mom caught us sneaking around in the hall and was very suspicious. I told her we were ‘ghost-hunting,’ but I think she suspected what was really up. I helped Nick stuff his bed so that it’d look like he was sleeping, just in case one of my folks looked in on him. That done, we crept down the hall and slipped down the stairs, to the second floor. We followed the winding corridors until we came to a distant bedroom. I pulled Nick inside and closed the door. It had only been a few days since we’d last had each other, but it seemed like forever. Nick and I grabbed each other and started tearing off each others clothes. Ripped off might be a more accurate description. In mere moments, our shirts, socks, and shorts were lying on the floor. Immediately afterward, our boxers were lying on top. I pulled Nick’s naked body to mine and pressed myself against him. We giggled as we fell onto the bed, our lips locked together, our tongues entwined, our hands roaming. We were all over each other. Our hearts raced and our breath came fast. We were a writhing mass of lips and legs and arms. I was on top of Nick, then he was on top of me. We rolled around on the bed, feeling and groping and rubbing. It was almost more pleasure than I could take. “No!” I said, slapping my forehead. “What’s the matter?” asked Nick.

“I forgot to get something for tonight. I can’t believe I did this! I’m so stupid.” “What?” “I forgot the condoms.” Nick and I had something special planned for his stay. We were going to do something we’d never done before. He was going to let me enter him. I’d been thinking about it and fantasizing about it for weeks. I almost couldn’t believe it when Nick said he was willing — that he wanted it. And then, I’d actually forgotten to buy condoms. I was an idiot. “So we’ll do it next time,” said Nick reassuringly. “But I wanted to do it now!” I wailed. He grinned and put his arm around me. “Calm down, stud. You’ll get to do it. You know I want it as much as you. Besides, waiting will just make you want me even more.” I sighed. “I’ve been waiting for sixteen years!” Nick giggled. “Then waiting a few more days shouldn’t be that hard,” he said. “Hard?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows. “Besides, there’s plenty to do besides that.” “Such as?” I asked, with a wicked gleam in my eye. “Such as this,” said Nick, as he pushed my head down into his lap. A moment later, he moaned. ***

A couple of hours later, we lay quietly on the bed. Our hands were joined and we were discussing what we’d do after high school, and where we’d go. One thing we decided is that wherever we went, no matter what, we’d go together. We had no plans to part. We loved each other. Nick sat up in bed and looked at me. “Let’s explore!” he said excitedly. “Now? It’s like, three a.m.” “So? Come on.” He hopped up and pulled on his boxers. I slipped off the bed and dressed as he pulled on his shirt and shorts. We joined hands once more and headed down the hall. “Hey — why don’t you show me the crypt?” “No way!” I sputtered, vigorously shaking my head. “Not at night! I don’t even like goin’ down there in the daytime.” Most houses just had a basement. Graymoor had a family crypt. There were actual tombs down there and coffins behind the stone walls, with a dead body in every one of them. It totally creeped me out, like something out of an old Vincent Price movie. “Okay, but you’ve gotta show it to me soon.” I sighed. “Deal.” We continued down the corridor, looking in room after room. Most were bedrooms that I’d stumbled upon in previous explorations. We turned off onto a short hall

and entered yet another bedroom. Nick opened a small door at the far side of the room and stepped in. “Wow,” he said, as he stared, open-mouthed. “I’ve been lookin’ for this room!” I said. “I wandered in here weeks ago, but I could never find it again when I went looking for it.” The room smelled dusty. It was some kind of playroom, filled with old-fashioned, antique toys. There were teddy bears and metal wagons, and even an old train set. A miniature carousel sat on a table. Nick wound it up and turned it on. To our astonishment, it still worked. It even played music that sounded like a calliope. Along one wall, there were bows and arrows and Indian headdresses. Nearby were toy guns and a miniature castle with knights on horses. There were shelves of picture books, a snow sled and skates. There was just about everything I could imagine. I’d glanced at the room when I’d been there before, but now that Nick and I had time to thoroughly explore it, I realized it might be the most wonderful room in the whole house. “I guess these must’ve been Edward and William’s toys,” I said, giving the carousel another twirl. “Or maybe they belonged to some other kids even before them.” There was no way to tell, but I guess it didn’t matter. I could’ve spent hours in there looking around. Nick and I played with the train set for awhile. We were like

little kids. I had so much fun whenever I was with Nick, and I’m not just talking about the sex. Making love with Nick was wonderful beyond description, but we always had a blast, no matter what we were doing. It was being with Nick that mattered. I loved him so much. Nick yawned and stretched. I was tired, too. We hadn’t slept much and it had been a strenuous night. I grinned when I thought about why. We made our way back through the corridors then climbed the stairs. I walked Nick to his room, gave him a quick peck goodnight, then slipped down the hallway back to mine. I crashed on the bed and fell fast asleep.

Avery I woke up when Dave threw my clothes at me in a bundle. Sunlight streamed through the Venetian blinds. My hands were still tied behind my back and my mouth was still gagged. “Get up.” I struggled to raise myself to a sitting position on the side of the bed. “If you scream, I’ll hurt you. Understand?” I nodded my head. I knew he wasn’t bluffing. He’d already hurt me just a few hours before. I was terrified. My blurry memories of the night were like a nightmare. Dave took off my gag, then untied my wrists. I rubbed them. “Get dressed.” I did as I was told. Dave watched me dress while he was standing by the door, waiting. “Come on,” he said when I’d finished. “Can I go to the bathroom first?” “Make it fast.” His voice was so rough and controlling. He sounded nothing like he had when I’d met him the day before. I wished there was a way I could’ve escaped from the bathroom, but there wasn’t even a window. I came back out and walked to Dave. He opened the door a crack, stuck his head out, and looked in both directions. His truck was mere feet from the door. Should I try to make

a break for it? Before I had a chance to think, he grabbed my wrist and twisted my arm behind my back until I thought he was going to break it. “We’re going to walk out and get in my truck,” he said quietly. “You try to run, you try to scream, and I’ll break your fuckin’ arm. Understood?” “Yes,” I said, trying desperately to keep the quiver out of my voice. The truth was, I was too terrified to try anything to get away from him. Dave checked out the door again, then led me to the truck. He held my wrist behind my back, but applied no pressure. Anyone looking wouldn’t have been too suspicious. From a distance, it probably looked like he was touching my back. I knew he could snap my arm like a twig in a second if he felt like it. I walked to the truck and got in. Dave hurried around to the driver’s side and hopped in. The tires spun in the gravel, and we were on our way. He looked at me, smirking. I hated him, but I was too terrified to feel anything more. The fear paralyzed me, gripping me like a vice. I knew now that Dave was capable of anything. Mile after mile passed, as I sat there quietly, scared out of my wits. I was sore and it was hard to sit because of what he’d done to me. The dull, throbbing pain was a constant reminder of what happened. I tried desperately to push the memory out of my mind — his hot breath on my neck, his sweating body against my back... I didn’t want to remember, but it kept coming back at me. For the longest time I sat

there silent, but finally I managed to get my voice to work. “Are you going to kill me?” I asked, meekly. Dave smiled at me. It was an ugly, evil smile. “What do you think?” he asked. Why couldn’t he just tell me? Why did he have to drag it out? “I don’t know.” He didn’t say anything. I looked out the window, thinking of how stupid I’d been. I should never have gotten in his truck in the first place. I shouldn’t have agreed to go into his motel room. I shouldn’t have tried to knock him out. And then, I should”˜ve fought like mad to get away, but I didn’t. I was a fool. I let him lead me to his truck without a struggle, like a fucking sheep. Sure, he could have easily broken my arm, but I could have gotten away from him. I could have punched and screamed and kicked. Surely the commotion would’ve attracted someone’s attention. Maybe he would’ve hurt me, but so what? I’d have been free from him. Instead, I acted like a coward. I’d missed my chance. And now, who knew what was going to happen to me? “I won’t tell anyone about what you did to me,” I pleaded. I hated the silence. It terrified me. Dave didn’t even look in my direction. I tried again. “Listen, just lemme go, okay? I don’t know who you are. I don’t care. I’m not gonna tell

anyone what happened. Even if I wanted to, I just couldn’t... I couldn’t admit I was raped by a guy.” I looked at him fearfully. He turned his head and smiled at me, but kept his mouth shut. We drove on for a few more miles in horrible silence. I glanced out the window. I thought about jumping out of the truck, but we were going more than sixty miles an hour. Jumping would kill me for sure. Still, that might be better than what Dave would do to me. I didn’t know. My fear, and instinct for survival, forced me to stay on the seat. “It”˜d be real easy, y’know,” said Dave, breaking the silence. “What?” I said, momentarily startled. “Killing you,” he said casually. He gave me a cold, hard stare. I swallowed hard. “You’re a runaway. No one knows where you are. No one will notice if you don’t show up for days, for weeks, for months..." He was scaring me so badly, I had to fight to keep from shaking. “I could pull off on this side road right here,” he said, as he did it. “We could keep driving for a little while. I could take you where no one would ever hear you scream.” I was so frightened I was crying. He was doing just what he was describing, as if he’d done it many times before. He’d turned off onto a side road and was taking

me farther and farther into isolated territory. I dreaded each word that came from his lips. “We could stop right here,” he said, as he pulled the truck into an abandoned drive and shut off the motor. “I could pull this out,” he said, as he took a pistol from underneath his seat, “and make you get out of the truck.” He pointed the gun right at my chest, scooted across the seat, opened the door, and poked me in the back with the barrel as we both got out. I was crying and shaking. “Please... please don’t kill me,” I begged. “I told you I won’t tell anyone. I swear! I won’t tell anyone!” “Shut up, boy!” Dave gave me a stinging slap across the face. “Now turn around.” I turned my back to him and he gave me a push. “I could take you away from the truck, so it won’t get any blood on it when I blow your head off,” he said, as he shoved me forward. We walked several steps. I was shaking. This was it. He was gonna kill me. With each step, I expected to hear the gun go off. I’d feel a whitehot pain in the back of my head, and then blackness. Dave grabbed my arm, spun me around and made me face him. He placed the barrel of the pistol on my forehead, right between my eyes, and cocked the hammer. I was trembling and crying, so terrified I was about to black out.

“And then, I could blow your fucking brains out.” He pulled the trigger and the pistol clicked. I screamed and fell to the ground in my terror. I looked up. I was still alive. Dave stood over me, laughing at me, gloating over what he’d done to me and that he’d gotten away with it. “By the time you can get to a phone, or tell anyone about me, I’ll be long gone, ‘Brad’ — or whatever your name is. Thanks for last night. You were very, very good. I had a lotta fun.” He leaned down, pulled me forward by my shirt, then put his face close to mine. “Be sure to think of me every time you have sex,” he whispered. He shoved me back to the ground, then sauntered back to his truck, slammed the door, and sped off. I was on the ground, bawling and shaking. It was a long time before I could stop crying. I just lay there in the dirt and sobbed, curled up into a little ball. *** I don’t know how much time had passed. I picked myself up and dusted myself off. I took a deep breath and followed the old road, back towards the small highway we’d been on in the truck. I had to keep reminding myself that I was safe — well, at least safe from Dave. If he’d wanted to kill me, he’d have done it. I wasn’t worried about him coming back. He’d gotten

what he wanted from me and went on his way. I guess I should say he’d taken what he wanted from me. As I trudged wearily down the dirt road, I cried some more when I re-lived what he’d done to me. He was a dirty, disgusting, child molesting fag. It didn’t matter if he was married, if that was even true. He was one of them. He was still a fag. I hated them more than ever. I felt dirty because of what he’d done to me. I screwed my eyes shut when the memory of it assaulted me again. I wished that I could pay Dave back for it. I’d give anything for the chance to beat him senseless for what he’d done to me. I sighed. Fat chance of that happening. Our paths weren’t likely to ever cross again, and even if they did, he was far stronger than me. My clothes were clean and I smelled much better than before, but I was still broke. Dave hadn’t given me the hundred bucks he’d promised for a night with me. Of course, I’d screwed that up. If I’d known what was going to happen, I wouldn’t have done it. Maybe I’d have still had a horrible night, but at least I’d have had a hundred bucks in my pocket. Or maybe not. Maybe Dave never intended to pay me. Maybe the money was just a way of luring me into his motel room. Either way, I’d been nothing but a fool. There wasn’t any need to think about it. I was totally busted, and that was that. I was already starting to get hungry again, too. All the food I’d eaten the day before had brought me back from the edge of starvation, but how long would it be before I was there again? I shuddered. I never wanted to be hungry like that again.

I thought of what I could do for some money. I had to think of something. One thing was certain: I was never again gonna let someone touch me for money, or for a meal. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I’d sold my body to Dave for a fucking cheeseburger and fries! He ended up taking much more from me than he’d paid for, but it didn’t change the fact that I’d let him put his hands in my pants so he’d buy me lunch. I hated myself for it, but even more, I hated him. It took me a long time just to make it back to the little highway. Once there, I followed it in the same direction we’d been traveling before. I tried to figure out where I was. I was miles and miles from where I’d been when Dave first picked me up. I wished I’d never climbed in his truck. It would’ve been far better to be hungry and dirty and many miles behind. As the hours passed, my feet grew tired and hunger began to gnaw at me again. My mind kept replaying the events of the past few days, no matter how hard I tried not to think about it. I couldn’t believe all I’d been through since I’d beat up Ryan for leering at me. All my troubles had been brought about by one little queer. I went to sleep cold and hungry that night, huddled in the safety of a small hill by the highway, but at least there was no one to abuse me. As I lay there, teeth chattering, my eyes clenched shut, I wondered how long I could keep going. My life had turned to shit. Even if I could stay away from the cops, what kind of future did I have? A tear rolled down my face. Maybe

I’d have been better off if Dave had put a bullet in my head. *** Just a few hours after dawn, I made it to Minneapolis, at last. I hadn’t realized I was so close to the city when Dave dropped me off. At least now I could do what I came here for: I could lose myself on the busy streets. I sighed with relief. No one could find me now. From that at least, I was safe. I was starving. I’d gone for nearly three days without food and I barely had the strength to walk. I was dirty and smelly and miserable. I felt all weak and shaky. My own stench offended me. I found a gas station and locked myself in the restroom for awhile. I stripped out of my clothes and washed myself in the sink, using hand-soap and paper towels. It was a tiresome process, but I couldn’t take being so disgustingly dirty and oily. Being in such an unkempt state didn’t help me to blend in with the crowds either. By the time I was done, I was pretty clean. My clothes were still smelly, but at least I didn’t reek as I had before. Once clean, I wandered around the city, wondering what I could do for some cash. I’d have taken any job I could get my hands on, but there was nothing. Exhausted, I sat down at a bus stop and watched the boys across the street. They seemed to have nothing to

do but stand on the street corner. I wished I had it so good. I sat there for a long, long time, and as I did so, I noticed something. A few cars had pulled up to the curb near where the boys were standing. There weren’t many of them, just two or three, but every time a kid or two went over to the car and the car never left without at least one of them inside it. It took quite awhile for me to realize what I was seeing, but then I caught on: they were street hustlers, selling their bodies for money. The mere thought of what they did filled me with disgust. I’d done something similar when I let Dave get me off, but that was different. I did it because I desperately needed something to eat. My stomach growled. I was ten times as hungry now as I was then. I looked at the boys across the street, then felt overcome by a wave of shame and desperation. I buried my head in my hands and cried. After a few moments, I looked up again. No one noticed that I’d been crying; no one cared. The people that moved past me didn’t even seem to see me. It was as if I’d become invisible. That was what I’d wanted, but it left me feeling frightened, alone, and vulnerable. No one cared about me here. There was no one to take care of me, no one to help me out when I was in trouble. I wiped my tears from my face. I had to take care of myself. I looked at the boys across the street again. I looked around, then slowly got up and walked toward them. As I drew near, I feared they might attack me. They

seemed like a pack of wild dogs that might tear me to shreds if I invaded their turf. To my relief, they almost completely ignored me. A couple of heads turned in my direction for a few moments, but that was it. I awkwardly leaned against a building, trying desperately to look as if I belonged there, as if I knew what I was doing. I wanted nothing more than to walk away, but my stomach grumbled again just then, reminding me that I was still starving. An expensive-looking car pulled up to the curb and several of the boys trotted over. A couple of them stuck their heads in the open window. It looked like they were merely giving the guy in the car directions, but I knew something more was going on. I tried to make myself leave the safety of the wall and join them, but I just couldn’t do it. One of the boys got in the car and it pulled away. I looked at the boys around me. There were some fifteen of them there now. The youngest looked no more than twelve and the oldest was probably eighteen or nineteen. All of them had a lean, hungry look to them. As I surreptitiously watched them, I realized that they didn’t look all that different from myself. I had the same desperate look as the rest of them. I’d seen it when I glanced at myself in the mirror in the gas station. Some of the boys had bloodshot eyes. Drugs, I thought. That’s what brought some of them here. They sold their bodies to get money for drugs, or maybe they

just sold their bodies for drugs. I didn’t like the looks of them, not at all. Another car pulled up, but I stayed glued to the wall. A couple of minutes later it was gone, and so were two of the boys. A couple more boys joined the group. I seemed to have found the corner for the buying and selling of young meat. The thought made me sick to my stomach, but I was weak and hungry. I needed food and I was beginning not to give a shit as to what I had to do to get it. One of the boys walked over to me. He was about my age, with long messy blond hair and torn clothes. He was handsome, but looked wild and underfed. “You’ll never get a customer if you don’t go right up to them,” he said. “I know,” I said quietly. He cocked an eyebrow. “First time?” “Yeah.” I guess that wasn’t entirely the truth, but it was close enough. “I’ll give you some pointers,” said the boy. “Listen to me. Always make sure you know where the exit is. Some of the guys get really rough, especially when they’re done, and you may have to run for it. Don’t ever let ‘em tie you up, unless it’s a guy you’ve been with before and you trust him. In that case, you can charge extra. Don’t be a smart-ass, unless that’s what they like. “We get all types around here,” he continued. “Some guys will want you to be in charge, and others will tell you what to do. When you do it awhile, you’ll learn to

read ‘em, but until then — watch it. Get out as soon as you get your dough. Some guys are really into it until they get off, then they get mad — like it’s your fault or something, or you forced ‘em into it. Those are the guys that will beat the shit outta you if you’re not careful.” I swallowed hard. The boy was scaring the crap out of me. Some of what he was saying was striking too close to home. It reminded me of Dave. “So are you a top or a bottom?” he asked, walking around me slowly and looking me up and down. “A what?” “You know,” he said. “Do you take it, or do you give it?” I looked at him blankly. He rolled his eyes. “Do you get fucked, or do you do the fuckin’?” “Oh. I guess... I, uh, do it.” He nodded. “You’re a top then. It’s best to be versatile. That way, you can get more business. Me, I’m mainly a bottom boy, but I top if I’m asked.” I was shocked that this boy, who couldn’t have been more than sixteen, was talking about fucking and getting fucked like he did it all the time. But I guess he did. I was repulsed, but I knew neither of us had any choice. “Um, mind if I ask you a question?” I said. “Questions are free. Anything else you want, you gotta pay for,” he said with a grin.

I thought he was kidding, but I wasn’t sure. “Um, are you a... are you queer?” The boy looked at me like the question was irrelevant, then laughed. “I’m totally straight, dude! I just do tricks for the money. If I had my choice, I’d take girls. Chicks don’t pay though. Only old dudes do.” I nearly asked what he meant by ‘tricks,’ but I’d heard it somewhere before and I knew it meant having sex with someone for money. I was starting to like this guy. He was straight like me, and was just selling his body because he had to. I bet the real gay boys in Minneapolis didn’t need the money like me and him. I bet they just did it for fun, the disgusting little pansy asses. Another car pulled up, and the boy pushed me toward it. Somehow I ended up right by the door. An older boy was already leaning in the passenger’s side window, talking to a guy in his mid-thirties. I couldn’t make out everything they said, but I did catch the guy saying “I’d like a three-way this time.” The boy looked back at me questioningly with his eyebrows. I swallowed hard. The guy in the car looked at me, then smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you’ll do nicely, kid.” “A hundred bucks an hour, each,” said the boy. “Seventy-five an hour each,” the man insisted.

The boy looked at me. I shrugged. I had no idea how any of this worked. All I knew is that I needed some money soon or I’d starve to death. “Okay, but if you want anything kinky, it’ll be extra,” warned the boy as he got in the car. I climbed into the back and the car pulled away from the curb. I was so hungry my stomach hurt. I was weak and shaky. That’s the only thing that could have gotten me in the back of that car. The kid in the front seat turned around and grinned at me, but I turned away and stared out the window. I was only doing this so I could eat, I reminded myself. As we made a turn down Washington Avenue, I shut my eyes. I wondered if maybe I’d died and gone to hell.

Sean I stirred in my sleep. Something had disturbed me. I was in that state between waking and sleeping where I was still asleep, yet somehow aware that I was sleeping. I thought I heard someone calling my name in the distance. I thought I recognized the voice. I smiled. It was Taylor calling my name, with a voice as sweet as spring. I opened my eyes, but he wasn’t there. I had expected to see him as I had before: a brilliant white apparition... no, not an apparition — an angel. I was disappointed. I strained my ears, but didn’t hear his voice again. Perhaps I had dreamed it. Even though he was one of the Graymoor ghosts, Taylor was real, as real as myself, but it had been weeks since I’d seen him or Mark. From down the hall, I heard distant music and... laughter? I got out of bed and walked out into the hall. I let the sounds lead me to the stairway and down to the second floor. As I descended, the sounds grew more distinct. The music was that of a pump organ playing. I wished that Nick was there with me just then. He’d been there just the night before, but we hadn’t heard or seen anything out of the ordinary. My boyfriend had long yearned to witness the ghostly manifestations of Graymoor, but he was never around at quite the right time. I wished that my friend Marshall were there with me, too. Marshall loved weird happenings and spooky

noises more than anyone else in the world. He lived for tales of ghosts and the supernatural. It was a wonder that he didn’t just camp out at my house. As I reached the foot of the stairs, I saw them: two figures dancing, one tall, one not, and another playing the old pump organ in the corner of the parlor. They were a transparent gray — ghostly white. I stood there unafraid. There was a time when such a sight would’ve sent me running and screaming, but now I knew that what I was seeing were not even real ghosts. They were merely memories of the past. Even if they had been aware of me, I had nothing to fear from them, for the trio of ghosts I saw before me were William and Edward Graymoor and their little sister Ellie. Edward was playing the pump organ. I recognized his handsome features as if he were one of my friends. He was laughing as he watched William dancing with their little sister. The girl was not even half William’s height, but danced beautifully nonetheless. I watched fascinated, thankful to be given this chance to see a bit of their lives. I smiled as I leaned against the banister, transfixed. I was fascinated by anything linked to them, and I was glad to see their ghosts once again. I watched them a few minutes more, then suddenly they faded away as if they had never been, and the music disappeared in a final echo down the hallway. I knew what I’d seen was real, however. I had no doubt of that. Many would no doubt think I was out of my head if I told them of the things I’d seen in this old house, but I also had no doubts they’d change their

minds quickly enough if they spent time here when the ghosts were actively walking the halls. Graymoor had a way of making believers out of even the most skeptical. It had certainly made a believer out of me.

Avery The car pulled into a big parking garage and stopped. I got out and followed Michael, the older boy, and Ted (if that was his real name), the pervert who was paying us for our services. We got into an elevator. When it stopped on the sixth floor, the doors opened and Ted stepped into the corridor of what was obviously a very fancy hotel and led us to his room. As we walked down the hallway, I felt sick to my stomach, but it had nothing to do with being hungry. I hated just being in the presence of two fags. I didn’t dare to let myself think about what was to come. If I had, I would’ve run away screaming. I’d have sooner jumped off a building than go in Ted’s hotel room. Well, I guess that wasn’t true. If I’d have been willing to jump off a building, then I could have done it instead. I wouldn’t need food if I was just going to kill myself. No, I wouldn’t have rather jumped off a building, but I came close. I walked through the door and let it close behind me. I trembled as I realized I was locked in a room with two queers. I looked at Ted and had a flashback to Dave. I fought the urge to panic, and forced myself to relax. This guy wasn’t going to do to me what Dave had done. Ted was paying me for sex, and that didn’t include hurting me. Well, in a way it did. The very thought of

sex with another guy was totally repulsive to me, so doing any of this fag shit still hurt me. Ted looked us both over carefully, as if appraising the merchandise he’d just purchased. It made me feel cheap and nasty, like I was a piece of meat on display at a butcher’s shop. “Take off your shirts,” he said. He stood and watched as we slowly doffed our shirts. Every moment was pure agony for me. I guess I should’ve been happy he was going slowly. Every minute that passed was more money in my pocket, and just taking off my shirt for him was hardly sex. I hated the way he looked at me, however. The look of lust in his eyes made me feel unclean. Fags were beyond despicable. “I want to see you kiss,” said Ted. For a moment, I didn’t know what he meant, but then Michael turned to me and pulled me to him. My first instinct was to punch Michael in the face, but I fought it. I had to fight with every fiber in my being not to recoil when he pressed his lips to mine and kissed me. It wasn’t a simple peck on the lips either. He began moving his lips against mine almost as soon as they touched. He forced my lips open and slid his tongue across my teeth and into my mouth. I nearly hurled, but fought it down, knowing that the whole thing would be over and I’d get nothing if I blew chunks into Michael’s mouth. Michael would no doubt beat me senseless for it, too. He wasn’t much older than me, but he looked a

shit-load stronger. Without his shirt, it was obvious that he was built. “C’mon, get into it!” the man insisted. “Put some feeling into it. Gimme a show, boys.” Michael ran his hands over my bare chest. I hated him for touching me, and I hated myself even more when I realized that it felt good. I was beginning to get aroused despite myself. I was on the verge of crying, but I told myself getting excited was a good thing. It’s what Ted wanted, and he was the one with the cash. Maybe he’d even pay extra if he really liked it. Every cent I got kept me one step further away from ever having to do this again. I had to endure the humiliation and torment to survive. Against my will, I felt my groin stiffen. I told myself over and over that I wasn’t a queer, even though I was doing queer things. All of this was happening against my will. Well, that wasn’t totally true. I could’ve chosen not to prostitute myself, but that meant starving. Let’s face it: I had no choice. It was just the same as if someone pointed a gun to my head and made me do it. My hands were shaking as I ran my hands across Michael’s chest, as he was feeling me. How many times had I dreamed of touching a girl like that? How many fantasies had I had about it? Now, it was happening, but with a boy. I began to breathe harder. It was like some sick, screwed-up dream. If only it was a nightmare and I could just wake up and find myself still in bed. Suddenly, Michael tugged my jeans and boxers away and moved his head below my waist. I began to shake,

and a tear rolled down my cheek. I remembered every fantasy I’d ever had about a girl doing that to me and the memories taunted me. I closed my eyes and pretended it wasn’t a guy blowing me, but a girl. I guess it would feel the same no matter which. I desperately concentrated on the fantasy; it was the only way I could make it bearable. What Michael was doing felt better than anything I’d ever felt, but I hated it. I hated him, and I detested Ted for making me do it. Ted was using us both. He had money and we needed it. That gave him power over us, incredible power. How else could he make a straight boy like me act like a fuckin’ fag? I despised being used. It was yet another reason for hating queers. I tried desperately to remember my girlfriend Carrie’s face, but I drew a blank. No matter how hard I pretended, I still knew what was going on. It was nearly the worst moment in my life, second only to what had happened with Dave. Despite my feelings, I was more aroused that ever. That made me feel worse still. That made me feel as if I weren’t really a man. My own body was betraying me. My heart pounded in my chest and my breath came harder and faster. My hips began to thrust involuntarily. A moan escaped from my lips and my entire body shuddered as intense waves of pleasure ripped through my body. It was over in moments and I descended from the heights of ecstasy into the depths of despair. Michael wiped off his mouth and stood up, looking at me, waiting. Ted gave me a little impatient nod. I knew

what was expected of me, but I couldn’t do it. Michael put his hand on my shoulder and guided me to my knees. I blocked out the pain of my actions as I reached out and pulled down Michael’s jeans and boxers. I had to use all my willpower to keep from throwing up. My mind shut down as I leaned in toward him and opened my mouth. It was so horrible that my mind simply refused to recognize what was going on. I shut my eyes and went through the same motions that Michael had done to me. A couple of hours later, hours that seemed an eternity, I found myself outside the hotel, walking with Michael. Blurry scenes endlessly repeated in my mind: me kneeling in front of Michael... Michael on me, Ted on Michael, me on Michael, me on Ted... then all three of us together on the bed in a writhing mass. As we stood waiting for a light to change, I suddenly felt nauseous. It was like being forced to watch scenes of horror within my own mind. I knew that no matter how long I lived, I’d never be able to erase those memories. While it was going on, my mind was numb, suspended almost in disbelief. Now that it was over, memories of what I’d done came flooding back to torment me. I became physically ill and vomited into a trash can. I followed Michael because I had no where else to go. I wasn’t sure what to do next. At least I now had $200 in my pocket. That money would buy me a lot of meals. I planned to use it sparingly and make it last as long as I could. I made myself a vow then and there:

Long before the money was gone, I intended to have some kind of job that would allow me to survive without ever having to prostitute myself again. I’d sold my body for the very last time. I looked at Michael walking beside me. I thought about what I’d just done with him. It didn’t seem to bother him in the least. He was obviously a fag. He probably liked what we did. I felt like he should have to pay me, too. I hated him, but I was afraid to leave him. I was lost and not sure of how to survive on my own. One thing I wanted to do as soon as possible was get something to eat. I was starving... and I don’t mean the kind of starving that someone means when the time for lunch was an hour ago. I mean the kind of starving that means the time for the next meal was three days ago. I never wanted to feel that feeling again. As we walked, I got to thinking. I had money now. I didn’t need Michael. I sure as hell wasn’t going back to the street corner with him. I didn’t know where to go, but I didn’t really want to go anywhere with Michael. He was a fag, another reminder of the unspeakable things I’d just done. Why was I tagging along? It was just stupid. I stopped on the sidewalk and turned to him. “Hey, dude,” I said. “I think I’m gonna cut out of here.” “Wait,” said Michael. “I thought we could maybe grab a bite to eat somewhere.” “Thanks, but I think I’ll be on my way.” “You got a place to stay tonight?” he asked.

I decided to be honest. “Uh, no.” “I know a place where you can crash.” “And who do I have to sleep with for it?” I asked, sarcastically. He smiled. “You can sleep with me if you wanna. You’re kinda...” Michael’s smile quickly faded. He could tell I was disgusted by the very idea. He made a half-hearted gesture, like he’d been making a joke all the time. “Sorry, dude. I was just kiddin’ — mostly. Anyway, there’s a youth center near here. You can sleep there, and you don’t have to have sex with anyone for it, I promise. Okay? I told some friends I’d meet them. I can take you there right after that, all right?” I still didn’t want to be around Michael. And I sure as hell didn’t want to meet any of his fag friends. He sighed. “Dude, you’re obviously lost and don’t know what the fuck you’re doin’. I’m just tryin’ to help.” “Okay then,” I said. I wasn’t very friendly, but I wasn’t in the best of moods. It was a wonder I wasn’t suicidal after what I’d just done. Michael offered something I needed, however. I’d let him show me the youth center, then I’d ditch him and get something to eat. As we walked, I started dreaming about food. I wanted to make my money last, but I wanted a feast.

There had to be some kind of smorgasbord around. That’s what I needed, someplace I could just pig out. I bet that I could eat more than anybody they’d ever seen in Minneapolis, for sure. I began to get suspicious when we turned down an alley. I halted for a moment. “Shortcut,” said Michael, pulling me along. He shot me a grin, but his charm was lost on me. To me, he was nothing but a fag. I didn’t understand how he could do the things he did, and enjoy them. It was sick. The alley seemed to go on for blocks. I followed Michael, but within a few moments, I was very, very sorry. We turned a corner and there were his friends. They seemed a little surprised to see him. I was sure he’d lied to me when he said he’d promised to meet them. The alley wasn’t just a meeting place. There were cardboard boxes along the walls. It looked like they lived in them. I recognized some of Michael’s friends as boys from the street corner, the older kids who’d probably been selling their asses for years. I felt a sense of panic and turned to run, but they grabbed me before I could even get ten feet away. There were three of them, in addition to Michael. They slammed me against the brick wall and Michael reached for my pocket — the pocket with my money in it. I desperately grabbed his wrist, but one of his buddies slugged me in the face and the two others each grabbed an arm. They held me up against the wall while Michael carefully removed the money I’d earned by selling my body.

“I need that, you fuckin’ assholes!” I shouted. I was amazed that I had the balls to say it, but I was desperate. I had to have that money or I’d die. “Like I fuckin’ care,” said Michael with a smirk. “Faggot!” The word was out of my mouth before I realized it. He leaned into my face. “Look who’s talking. I seem to recall you suckin’ my dick less than an hour ago.” “I did it for the money!” I spat. “Yeah, right.” “Fuck you, I really did!” Tears were welling up in my eyes. I was frightened and he was really pissing me off. I don’t know why the opinion of a queer mattered to me, but I cared that even one of them might think I was a homo. “Okay, maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. I don’t care. You sure weren’t any good at it. Trust me — you’ve definitely got no future as a rent boy.” They all laughed at me like that was the funniest thing ever. I took it as a compliment. I wanted to say so, but I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut. “Gimme my fuckin’ money back,” I said. I knew I was taking a chance, but I had to have that $200. “Yeah, sure,” said Michael, as if I were a total idiot. I started to sob. “Please — just ten bucks then. I’ve gotta get something to eat. Please.” I hated my life. I was reduced to begging a fag for some of my own money just so I could eat!

“Fuck you, bitch,” one of the other boys snarled, and he hit me hard in the stomach. In a blur, suddenly they had me down on the ground, beating the shit outta me. There were four of them and one of me. I didn’t stand a chance. I blacked out. I awoke a few minutes later, laying there in the alley, bleeding and in pain. I was alone. They’d had their fun and ran away, with all my money. I started bawling. I’d prostituted myself. I’d done disgusting things with another boy, and a man, and it was all for nothing. My belly was still empty. I had no place to go and nothing to eat. I was miserable. I wanted my mom. I even longed to see my dad. It was getting dark. I didn’t have anywhere to go, but I couldn’t stay where I was. Michael and his buddies would be back sooner or later, and I didn’t like thinking about what they might do to me if I was still there. I thought about looking for the youth center Michael had mentioned, but it was probably just another lie. I staggered to my feet, then leaned up against a wall and seriously contemplated suicide. I couldn’t see any way out of the situation I was in. I couldn’t go back home, and I had no where else to go. I’d sold my body so I could get money for food, but even that was taken away from me. I didn’t feel like I was in a city. I felt like I was in a jungle where only the fittest survived. I was definitely not the fittest — Michael and his buddies had proven that. They had ganged up on me, but any one of them could’ve taken me. I was probably lucky to get away with just the loss of my money and a beating.

I thought back to the memory of Dave in the motel room and shuddered. They could have done much worse. What should I do now? Should I go back to the street corner and try again? The very thought made me burst into tears. I banged my head against the wall, desperately trying to think of a way out of my situation, but there was none. I looked up at the top of the building across from me. It was the tallest building I’d ever seen. Surely I’d die if I jumped from it. The very thought filled me with fear. I was terrified of heights. I cried harder. I was too big of a coward to even kill myself. I wandered about the streets for a good long time. I found myself a deserted alley. I lay down behind a dumpster and rolled up into a ball. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about what had happened to me or about my future. I prayed that I wouldn’t wake up in the morning. If I was lucky, maybe I’d just die in my sleep.

Sean “Hey, how ‘bout some music?” asked Nick, as we were driving toward South Bend. “Sure,” I said. Nick reached over and turned on the radio, while I continued driving. “Ewww, country!” he shrieked as some bad, twangy music came over the speakers. I laughed. Nick acted as if it actually caused him physical pain to hear country music. I wasn’t a fan of it myself, but actually, some of the new stuff wasn’t much different from rock. “Oh, yeah! Phantom! Here we go!” Nick had found a station playing music from his favorite band, Phantom. Nick was big into boy bands, so was I, and Phantom was his favorite, mine too for that matter. “Do You Know That I Love You” was just beginning to play. Nick cranked up the volume and sang along with it. I shot him a grin; among his other talents, Nick could actually sing pretty well. That song was on the radio all the time, but neither of us tired of hearing it. “Man, I’d love to see those guys in concert,” said Nick. “Don’t you mean you’d love to see Jordan in concert,” I said, smiling. Nick had a crush on Jordan, the lead singer of Phantom — big time.

He laughed. “Well, yeah... but I’d love to see Ross and Kieran too. They’re all hotties.” “You’ll get no argument from me,” I said, grinning. “I can’t believe Jordan is from Indiana. I’ve never seen any boy that cute around here.” “Gee, thanks,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Aw, you know I think you’re cute,” said Nick, brushing my hair out of my eyes. “I was just kidding!” “I know, but still, you are cute. Man, could you imagine living next door to Jordan?” I shrugged. “He doesn’t live in Indiana anymore.” “I know, but still... could you imagine?” “You’d be his stalker,” I warned. Nick ignored me. “I wonder where he lived?” he mused. “Who knows?” “Anyway, I’d love to see him in concert.” “Maybe we can go sometime.” “Yeah, right — like we’ll ever get the time, or the chance.” “You never know.” “Yeah, and maybe Jordan will show up at my house with tickets and backstage passes,” laughed Nick. I laughed even harder. “You’d attack him if he did.” “Nah, I wouldn’t. I’d never cheat on you, babe.”

“Even with Jordan?” “Not even!” I leaned over and gave Nick a quick kiss on the lips. “Not bad,” he said. “But I bet Jordan would really be good.” I slugged him in the arm playfully, and he grinned. Minutes later, we arrived at the mall. It was great to get out and just wander around the mall. Nick and I didn’t get to go too often because we were usually too busy on the farm, plus it was an hour’s drive. We shopped for some clothes, but neither of us really needed any. Nick’s dads kept him well supplied and I had more clothes than room to store them. We checked out a music store and flipped through CD’s, then stopped by a store that specialized in computer games. We spent most of our time checking out cute boys. There were a lot of them in the mall. Quite a few were with girls, but that didn’t matter. We were just looking — window shopping, you might say. We did that a lot. “Dude alert! Take a look at the one comin’ up,” Nick whispered to me, as he tugged on my sleeve. I didn’t have to ask which boy he meant. There was a real cute blond boy coming our way, wearing very baggy pants and a shirt that hung almost to his knees. He had long bangs that mostly hid his face and was carrying a skate-board. He was hot. He smiled at us when he passed and I wondered if maybe he wasn’t

gay, too. Nick and I both looked around as he passed. He looked back at us. “Whew!” I said, fanning myself for comedic effect. “Yeah, that boy was definitely hot. I’ll give him a ten-point-oh for sure.” “Perfect score, unanimous decision,” I said. I suddenly had the desire to kiss Nick right then and there, but that wasn’t too smart in a mall. There were people who wouldn’t approve. That thought made me stop. What did I care if they approved or not? I leaned over and gave Nick a kiss right on the lips. He kissed me back and smiled. Just to our left, a couple of old ladies looked at us, but no one gave us any crap. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving,” I said. We headed for the food court. We each got a couple slices of pizza and a drink. We sat in the crowded court and ate, while we checked out more guys. Much to our amusement, two girls sitting at the next table were checking us out. From their expressions and the sound of their giggles, they weren’t exactly trying to hide it, either. After just a bit, both of them came over and sat down with us. One of them was looking Nick over good. That was no shocker. Nick was hot. What surprised me was the other girl who was focusing her attention on me. I was flattered... more like flabbergasted. They talked to us for awhile, about nothing much in particular. I had a feeling they were working up to something. It didn’t take them long to get there.

“We’re gonna see a movie later. Would you two like to come with us?” Tara, the girl who did the asking, put her hand on Nick’s forearm. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was after my boyfriend. Rachel, her friend, was smiling at me. I had the feeling I could have had a girlfriend pretty easily if I’d wanted one, at least a temporary one. That totally floored me. “Um...” said Nick. “That’s really cool, but um...” Tara leaned over and whispered something in Nick’s ear. He turned slightly pink. I had a feeling I had a good idea of what she’d said, or at least the kind of thing she’d said. I was pretty sure Nick had just been offered some action. “Um...” said Nick. “Listen... Going to a movie with you would be cool, but it would have to be just that. Sean and I are, ah, involved.” “I should’ve known you’d already have girlfriends,” said Tara. Nick smiled shyly. “Well, we don’t exactly have girlfriends,” he said. Tara looked confused. “But you just said — ohhhh...” “What?” asked Rachel. Tara kinda bugged her eyes at Rachel and raised her eyebrows. “Sean is my boyfriend,” said Nick, laughing. The girls looked a little surprised, but that was the extent of their reaction.

“Maybe it’s true — all the cute boys are gay,” Rachel sighed. “I’m not cute,” I protested. “Oh, yes you are!” said Rachel. I smiled and turned a bit red. “Now you’re even cuter,” she said. “You’ve even got dimples!” I turned redder still. “How about you guys come to the movies with us anyway?” said Tara as she stood up. “I promise to behave.” Nick looked at me and I nodded. “Sure,” said Nick. There was a theatre in the mall that had three different movies playing. We found one we all agreed on and got some popcorn and drinks. Nick and I sat by each other and the girls sat on either side of us. It was a blast. I didn’t know that girls could be so much fun. Well, that wasn’t really true. One of my best friends was a girl. Me and Zoë had a lot of fun together. Sometimes she even went out with me and Nick. By the time the movie was over, I was beginning to wish that Tara and Rachel lived closer to us. They both lived in South Bend, which wasn’t too far away, but it wasn’t like they lived in Verona. It was too bad they didn’t. I think we could’ve been pretty good friends. We exchanged email addresses with the girls and promised to get together with them some time in the

future. I didn’t know if it would happen, but I hoped so. I knew it would be fun. Tara gave Nick a kiss on the cheek when we parted, and Rachel kissed my cheek too. “Not too bad for girls, huh?” asked Nick after they’d walked away. “You aren’t going straight on me, are you?” I asked warily. “No way! Not even bi.” I grinned. “That’s good. I don’t want some girl stealing away my boy.” Nick put his arm around my shoulder and put his lips up to my ear. “Never.” The mall wasn’t too crowded, so we shopped around a little more. I bought some new (and far too expensive) boxers, which Nick insisted I had to model for him sometime, and Nick got some new cologne. He put some on. “Mmm... You smell good enough to eat,” I said. “Down boy.” His look didn’t match his words. I knew we’d be holding hands all the way home and doing some heavyduty making out when we got the chance. As we got in the car, I handed Nick a small bag. “What’s this?” “I got you a little something when you went off to the restroom.”

Nick pulled out the CD I’d brought for him. “Oh wow! It’s the ‘Do You Know That I Love You” import from Germany! I’ve been dying for this! You found it in the mall?” “Yeah, the music store had it.” “I didn’t see it.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “That’s because I spotted it first, and hid it a couple of groups back.” It had cost a fortune, too, but I didn’t tell Nick that. Nick wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight. “Thanks so much! You shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did.” “Put it in and we’ll listen.” “Just try and stop me.” I laughed. Nick sure had a thing for Jordan. And who could blame him?

Avery I awakened in the alley, my head against the pavement. Judging by the light, it was morning already. I leaned up against the wall. My neck hurt from sleeping at an odd angle. I placed the palm of my hand on my chin and pushed until my neck popped. I let out an “ahhh” as the popping released the tension in my neck. I arched my back and it popped too. I sat there with my head against the wall, wondering what I was going to do next. My stomach rumbled. I was desperately hungry. It was a feeling that had become all too common. I’d gone without anything to eat so often that I even looked different. I’d always been slim, but I was willing to bet there wasn’t an ounce of fat on me now. I raised my shirt and looked at my stomach. I could see a little bit of my ribcage, and my abdominal muscles were clearly defined. There was no fat to hide them now — just skin on muscle. I got up and dusted myself off. I couldn’t just sit in the alley all day. Maybe an opportunity would present itself and I’d get something to eat. I didn’t feel very good about my prospects. So far, everything had gone wrong. Just yesterday, I had $200 in my pocket, but it was taken from me. I ached from the beating I’d received. I was sore from the sex too, but I wouldn’t let myself think about that. I didn’t want to remember it. I intended to treat it just

like the beating. Damn it, I was a victim! What had happened wasn’t my choice. It was forced on me. I didn’t like Minneapolis. I was sure there were nice malls and beautiful residential districts somewhere, but I’d found my way into some kind of ghetto, filled with the homeless, drug dealers, and prostitutes. It was dirty and ugly. I desperately wanted to go home, back to my mom and dad. I’d been pissed at them when I left, but the more I thought about them, they weren’t so bad. The punishments my dad threw at me didn’t seem all that harsh now. I’d gladly go without television and music and everything else for a month, just for a single breakfast cooked by my mom. I smiled when I thought of her. I’d told my parents I hated them, but it was a lie. I loved them. I couldn’t let myself think of them any longer. Thoughts of home were getting me down. I couldn’t ever go back. I was too scared to even call. The police probably had some way of tracing my call, and they’d know just where to look for me. I didn’t want to go to jail. I knew what happened to pretty boys in jail. I’d probably be put in some kind of juvenile jail, but it’d be just the same. There’d be faggots like Michael in there. By mid-afternoon, I was so hungry that my stomach seemed to be one giant mass of pain. I was all shaky and felt sick. I walked into a supermarket. I didn’t have any money, but I didn’t care. I was gonna steal some food. I had no choice. It was either that, or go back to the street corner and sell myself again. I shivered with the dull memory. I was never going to do that again.

I looked around nervously. I’d never shoplifted before. I wasn’t sure how to do it, or what to take. All I knew is that I couldn’t let anyone see me. Whatever I took had to be small, so it wouldn’t show under my shirt. Wandering around in the supermarket was pure torture. I was so hungry I wanted to devour everything. I was so nervous it made me shake even worse. I needed to just do it and get it over with. I glanced quickly around to make sure no one was near, then stuffed a package of candy bars under my shirt. It wasn’t too noticeable. I wondered if I should try for something more, or just get out with what I had. I walked around a bit, pretending to shop, deciding if I should risk trying to steal something more. I was so hungry I felt like I could eat everything in the store. I felt someone watching me. I looked up and saw a guy walking toward me. He was wearing a name tag and was looking at me. Fuck! He’d probably seen me on some damn security camera or something. I ran for it. I bolted down the aisle, but in my weakened state I wasn’t fast enough. Just as I hit the turnstile, he got me. He dragged me to his office by the collar, locked the door, and called the police. I tried to talk my way out of it, but he wasn’t listening. I told him I only took the candy bars because I was starving, but he didn’t care. He had no pity at all. Minutes later, I found myself being cuffed and shoved into the back of a squad car. This was it. It wouldn’t be long before they’d find out who I was, and who I’d murdered. Likely, they already knew.

The events in the police station passed like a misty dream. I don’t know if it was the hunger or the fear. I felt as if I were experiencing it all through a dull fog. I couldn’t remember the questions, nor the answers I gave. My memory of them evaporated in mere moments. It wasn’t until they fed me that my brain could focus. I devoured the food, not caring if I made a spectacle of myself or not. I was so hungry, I didn’t care. A few minutes later, a guy came into the room where I was sitting. He was holding a piece of paper, and looking at me. This was it. This was where they found out I was a murderer. He sat across from me. “We’re calling your parents, Avery. You’re wanted for assault,” he said. “Assault?” I asked, bewildered. “Yes. The boy you allegedly assaulted is still in the hospital.” “Hospital? He’s alive?” I blurted out, before I could remember to keep my mouth shut. “Yes,” he said, a bit taken aback that I thought I’d killed Ryan. There were more questions, but I answered without thinking. Ryan was still alive? I hadn’t killed him? But I’d felt no heartbeat! How could he possibly be alive? The minutes slipped by, one after another. The officer who asked me so many questions left me alone in the room. I thought about trying to make a run for it, but that idea was just stupid. I was in a police station. I

sighed. There was no chance of getting away, but at least Ryan wasn’t dead. I didn’t have to run. I had nowhere to go anyway. The last thing I wanted was to go back out on the street. The officer came back and asked me more questions, some of them the exact same questions as before. I was beginning to think my head would explode. Another officer came in and called the one I’d been speaking to out into the hall. Through the glass, I could see them talking and looking at me. It made me selfconscious, but I didn’t care. My mind was still spinning. Ryan was alive! I hadn’t killed him after all. I wouldn’t be locked up for murder. I knew I was still in trouble; they might still lock me up somewhere for what I’d done, but I wasn’t in half as much trouble as I’d thought. I was relieved. I could go back home. It wasn’t so bad there. I could work things out with my parents. They’d take me back. I was their son, after all. They loved me and... and I guess I loved them, despite all that had happened. I began to feel better than I had in days. The officer who had been questioning me sat back down. His entire demeanor had changed. Before he’d been stern; now he seemed compassionate. I glared at him suspiciously. I wondered if this was some version of “good cop, bad cop.” But I’d been answering all the questions! I was so frightened and upset that I sang like a bird, just like in the movies.

“I have some unpleasant news for you, Avery,” he said. I looked into his eyes. I was suddenly very afraid. His sympathetic look frightened me more than the brusque, business-like one he’d been giving me for the last half-hour. “Yes?” I said impatiently. He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I’m not quite sure how to say this, so I’ll just say it. Your parents were in a serious auto accident. I’m sorry, kid, but they’re dead.”

Sean I sat at the kitchen table across from my parents. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the mostly dark kitchen. I was somewhat fearful; these parent/son talks were rarely good. They almost always heralded some momentous and unpleasant event, like the last time, when my parents announced they were selling our home and buying the old Graymoor Mansion. Hmmm, I thought. That had actually ended up working out pretty well, so maybe this new alteration in my life wouldn’t be so bad either. I was wrong. “There’s been a terrible accident. Your Aunt Ellen and Uncle Henry have been killed in a car wreck.” I looked at my mom. Tears were welling up in her eyes. Aunt Ellen was her sister. They didn’t have much contact, but I knew it must still be painful for her. As for myself, I barely knew either my aunt or uncle. I think I’d seen them maybe once when I was six or seven. I was sorry they’d died, but mainly for Mom’s sake. I didn’t feel any grief for them, because I didn’t know them. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I said quietly. She sighed. “These things happen, honey. I still can’t believe it, though. They...” Mom started crying. Dad put his arm around her. I reached out and took her hand. I felt a sob in my throat. I loved my mom and I didn’t

like to see her upset. She smiled through her tears and squeezed my hand. “What we really wanted to discuss with you, Sean, is the change in our living arrangements,” said Dad. “Living arrangements?” “I don’t know if you remember, but Ellen and Henry have a son, the same age as you.” I vaguely remembered some bratty little kid from long ago, but it was all foggy and indistinct. It was a useless memory. I was more concerned with what my father was saying. I wasn’t sure if I liked where the discussion was going or not. “Your cousin Avery will be living with us, Sean. He will be arriving in a couple of days.” “Living with us?” I asked, a bit shocked. “Yes,” said Dad, “we’re his only surviving relatives. Either we take him in, or he goes into a foster home program. Your mother and I have discussed it, and we don’t want him put through that. He’s been through enough already.” I wasn’t sure if I liked the idea or not, but it seemed it didn’t really matter. The decision had been made. I wasn’t angry with my parents for that, although they could’ve at least consulted me first. I think their decision was the only one that could be made in any case. “So you’re going to have a new brother,” said Mom. “Uh, okay,” I said.

I didn’t really know what to say. It was all rather sudden. I needed to think on it before I could have an opinion. We talked more, but that was the gist of it. In less than two days, I’d no longer be an only child. I made my way up the stairs while the lightning storm raged outside. Was it my imagination, or were there more thunderstorms in Verona now that we’d moved into the Graymoor Mansion? I inhaled deeply. Graymoor had a particular scent when it rained, not a bad scent, but it was somehow different. Most of time, the house smelled like old, polished wood. It was rather pleasant, really. When it rained, it was more earthy with kind of a floral scent thrown in. I followed the stairs up to my room on the third floor. At least there’d be plenty of room for my cousin. Graymoor had more bedrooms than anyone could count. I reached my own room, kicked my shoes off, and fell back on the bed, then glanced outside. The rain spattered harmlessly against the window panes, making me feel all cozy inside. It was nice and warm in my room. Heat was another modern convenience that had finally found its way to Graymoor. Things were different when we moved in. We lived in that spooky old place for weeks with no hot water, no telephone, and no nothing that couldn’t be run on batteries. The funny thing is, I still used an old kerosene lamp to light my room most of the time. I guess I’d kinda grown accustomed to it. How did I feel about my cousin coming to live with us? I wasn’t sure. I looked about my room and spotted

the picture of Nick I kept by my bed. I guessed some things would change with my cousin coming. I wasn’t so sure I wanted him to find out I was gay right away. I put the photo of Nick face down, out of sight. I was already starting to dislike my cousin, and I hadn’t even met him yet. I really hated the idea of having to change things just because he was coming, even if the change was minor. One thing was for sure: I had no intention of hiding that I was gay — not for very long anyway. I didn’t intend to blurt it out as soon as we met, but I wasn’t going to make a great deal of effort to hide it. I sure wasn’t going to ask Nick not to come over while my cousin got used to things. If he was gonna live here, then fine — but I was going to be myself. I put the photo of Nick back up by my bed. I smiled when I wondered what my cousin would think of Graymoor. I’d grown to really love the old place, but would he? In the beginning, I’d found it a little creepy... even frightening sometimes. It wasn’t until I got to know the place that I really began to feel at home. I was glad that the house had begun to stir once more. It’d be interesting to see how my cousin reacted to the strange happenings in our house. He was arriving at an interesting time. Nothing peculiar had happened for weeks, not since the night that Kyle and his buddies had tried to do me in, but recently the ghosts of Graymoor had once again made their presence known.

I wondered what my cousin would think of the story I had to tell of Kyle and his two friends. Not many boys my age had a tale to tell of surviving a murder attempt. I laughed to myself. Between that and the ghosts, he’d probably freak. Maybe having my cousin live here wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Avery My aunt, uncle, and cousin picked me up at the airport. My aunt and uncle seemed nice enough, yet they were kinda odd. I wasn’t sure if I liked them or not. I pretended I did, because even if I didn’t like them, I’d be living with them. I wasn’t too sure about my cousin, Sean, either. He was slightly pudgy and didn’t look the sort to be interested in bladin’ and basketball. If he turned out to be a loser, I hoped I could find some cool guys to hang with in town. I wasn’t completely sure about that either. I’d never even heard of Verona before. It was probably some little hick town filled with farm boys who thought driving a pickup around was a good time. I didn’t talk too much on the drive. My aunt prattled on about how I’d like Verona, and how glad they were to have me live with them. She didn’t mention my parents, which wasn’t surprising. The child welfare people had probably told her I wouldn’t talk about them. When anyone tried to get me to, I just clamed up and refused to speak. I didn’t want to talk about them; it was still too painful. “This is it?” I said incredulously, when we pulled up in front of what looked like a haunted house left over from some old movie. I half expected the Addams family to wave from the windows. “This is it!” said my uncle, clearly excited.

I frowned. It totally sucked! I wondered if it even had a bathroom. I followed my relatives inside. God, I’d be living in a fucking museum! My life was hell. “Sean, why don’t you show Avery to his room,” said my aunt. “Sure, Mom.” I followed Sean as we climbed one stairway after another. The place was huge. It would be like living in some damn courthouse or something. Judging by the number of doors and windows, at least I could probably sneak out when I wanted to. I could always claim I was in another part of the monstrous house. “Here, we fixed this room up for you,” said Sean as he led me into a big bedroom. Everything in it was old, but it wasn’t too bad. A few posters on the walls might brighten it up. My stereo and a lot of my other stuff was already there, sitting in boxes. When I got everything set out, it might be livable. “My bedroom is right down the hall,” said Sean. “You want me to help you unpack?” I could tell he was trying to be friendly. He wasn’t so bad. I decided to try and be friendly too. I’d be living with him after all. “No, that’s okay, thanks. I think I want to just kind of do it alone and get used to the place,” I said. “Thanks for offering, though.”

Sean smiled. “Well, I’ll leave you alone for a bit then. I’m the third room to the right if you need anything.” “Sure thing, dude.” He left and I looked around the room. Damn, the place was old! I set up my stereo first and got some music going. It helped to fill the silence. The air was almost oppressive in here, like I was being watched. I walked out into the hallway and looked around. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something particularly spooky about the house. It looked like something out of a horror movie, but that wasn’t it. There was something else. I looked out in the hallway again, then back into my room and felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Suddenly, the things already in my room looked familiar to me — not the things that had been sent from my old home. I walked back inside and traced my hand over the inlaid wood. The ancient furnishings and the room itself had a familiar feel to it, as if I’d been there before. I even had a shaky, broken-up memory of being in that room with someone, someone I didn’t like. That was it; that’s as much as I could “remember” or whatever you call it. It was ridiculous anyway. I’d never been in this house before! I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be here now. ***

I slipped out of my clothes and into bed. The moonlight outside cast odd shadows on the floor and walls. I was beginning to feel a little creeped out. I felt very alone. Everything in my life had changed. I felt like I’d been ripped away from everything I knew and stuck in an entirely different life. My recent past was like some kind of messed-up nightmare. I wondered if the future would be any better. At least I had plenty to eat. Before I’d run away, I’d never given that a moment’s thought, but after what I’d been through, I’d never forget what it was like to be hungry. I felt lonely and out of sorts, but at least I was safe. I had a real bed to sleep in. I knew that breakfast would be waiting on me in the morning, and I could have lunch and supper too. I was clean and didn’t have to worry about money. I didn’t have to worry about anyone beating me up, or worse. I sighed. Maybe living with my relatives wasn’t the best, but it sure wasn’t the worst, either. I’d experienced the worst, nearly, and I didn’t want to go back to it, ever again. I closed my eyes, but had trouble getting to sleep. When I finally did, I dreamed about that spooky old house. It didn’t look as bad in the dream though. It seemed fancier, and lacked the dull, aged appearance it had in real life. It looked more like the parts of the house that my aunt had shown me, the parts they had fixed up. In my dream, the whole house had that fixed up look. It was as if the house were brand-new, instead of all run down.

I looked about my room in my dream, but somehow, it wasn’t my room anymore. It belonged to someone else. My stereo wasn’t there... none of my stuff was there. I felt scared and lonely, just like in real life, wondering how I’d fit in to my new family. In my dream I knocked over a lamp on my dresser. The lamp didn’t break, but it cracked the mirror. I was afraid someone would notice and I’d get in trouble. I didn’t remember any more of the dream after that.

Sean I tried to make up my mind about my cousin. Avery seemed rather withdrawn. Of course, Mom said he’d be like that. Apparently, he was having trouble dealing with the loss of his parents. I’d been told not to mention them, unless Avery did first. He’d hadn’t even cried at their funeral. Dad said he was repressing his emotions, and it was kind of like he wouldn’t even admit his parents were dead. Part of me didn’t like Avery, but I still felt very sorry for him for losing his parents like that. I just didn’t know what I’d do if I lost my mom and dad. Avery was kind of odd and not entirely likeable. Even so, I intended to cut him a lot of slack because of what he was going through. I’d just be nice to him and see what happened. I wasn’t entirely pleased that he was living with us, but I wouldn’t tell him that either. There was something oddly familiar about Avery, even about his looks. I felt like we’d met before, or that I somehow knew him. Of course, we had met when we were like six or seven or so, but I felt like there was more to it than that. I couldn’t even really remember him from when we’d met as little boys. All I had was a vague notion that he was a brat. Avery seemed a little disoriented on his first morning. I’d planned to take him out and show him

around town, but it was raining steadily, so that was out. Instead, I took him around the house to explore. “This place is definitely big,” he said, as we walked down one of the corridors on the east side of the house. “Yeah, we’ve lived here for weeks, now, and there are still rooms I’ve never been in.” “There’s a library at the end of this hall,” said Avery, pointing straight ahead. I stopped in my tracks and looked at him. He’d never even been in the house before! We were on the fourth floor. The library was at the end of the hall, but how did he know? “How do you know that?” I asked him. “I don’t know how. I just do.” Avery looked kind of creeped out. We stepped down the hall and I opened the library door. We walked in and Avery looked around. He headed straight for a huge bookcase and pressed on it, hard. He stepped back as it swung open, revealing a secret passage, and then closed again. “How did you know about that?!” I asked, shocked. If I hadn’t accidentally discovered the passage myself several weeks before, I never would’ve known it was there. And yet Avery walked right to it! He seemed a little bewildered. “I don’t know. I just knew it was there.”

I would’ve suspected he was playing some kind of trick on me, but it just wasn’t possible. Something weird was going on. We walked around the huge room. There were thousands and thousands of books there. It wouldn’t have surprised me at all if there were more books in there than in the local library. I could tell Avery was impressed. We started looking through the many leather-bound volumes that lined the shelves. There were all kinds of them, all arranged by history, science, literature, medicine... mostly a lotta boring stuff. I bet some of them were pretty valuable, though. There wasn’t a single one that dated to after the 1870s. As I was browsing through a leather bound tome, a sheet of yellowed parchment paper floated to the floor from somewhere above. It must have been on a shelf somewhere above where I was standing, but I didn’t know how it had been disturbed. There was no draft in the room. I looked at Avery, but he wasn’t paying any attention. I retrieved the paper. It was hand-written with an old fashioned fountain pen, and there was a date at the top. It looked like a journal entry, but there was only one page. It appeared to have been torn out of some kind of book. I remembered the journal page I’d found in my room a couple of weeks or so before. The handwriting looked the same, as well as I could remember.

“July 14, 1870,” I read. “Hey, that’s yesterday, in 1870!” I read the rest out loud. I feel very alone in this big old house. Edward seems very nice, but I am not sure how I’ll fit in. I’m terribly afraid of his father; he’s very stern and religious. I do not think I’m going to like it here. Oh! I’ve just upset the lamp on my dresser. Thankfully it did not break, but there is a little crack in the mirror now. I hope Edward’s father does not notice. “Are you trying to be funny?” asked Avery. “What?” I asked, perplexed. “Give me that.” He took the paper from me and read it. “It looks old.” “Everything here is old,” I said, exasperated. Avery looked at me again, but didn’t say anything. He had a very odd expression on his face. He didn’t seem in the mood to explain why, and I didn’t ask. I was doing some wondering of my own. The note was unsigned, but it mentioned Edward. Could that mean Edward Graymoor? Was this a note written by William Graymoor? I was pretty sure it was. I knew something about the Graymoor boys. They were two brothers who had been murdered, along with their mother and little sister, by their father... over a hundred years ago. Those murders were the reason

Graymoor had stood empty for so very long — right up until my parents bought the place about a hundred and twenty-five years later. I’d seen the ghostly reenactment of their murders time and time again, until an exorcism had apparently quieted the tragic memories of Graymoor. I knew one more thing, too: one of the Graymoor boys had been adopted. Was this note written by William, shortly after being adopted into the Graymoor family? It seemed likely. I’d been wondering if I might be able to find more of the journal, ever since a page from it had mysteriously appeared in my bed. Now, I’d found a second page... or it had found me. I wondered where the rest of the journal might be. I had little doubt it was in the house somewhere. Nothing had ever been thrown away by the Graymoors, and there had been no one after them to toss things away — not until my family bought the house, and my parents were obsessed with keeping everything as it had always been. Avery lost his taste for exploring and returned to his room. He seemed more out of sorts than ever. I made my way to the kitchen for a sandwich, wondering where William had put the rest of his journal, and if I could find it. *** All joy oozed right out of me as I sat on a park bench with Nick. He was drooling over Gil Wadena. Gil

wasn’t wearing a shirt and all heads were turned in his direction. Gil was the class stud muffin. I despised him and his perfect looks. He had it all; perfect face, perfect hair, perfect body. He looked like a freaking Abercrombie and Fitch model or something. Even worse, he was the kind of guy that acted all friendly when he was with you, but you just knew he dissed you behind your back. I always heard him knocking everyone, when they weren’t around. Nick was so busy ogling Gil’s mouthwatering pecs that he totally ignored me. I stopped talking and watched my boyfriend get all horny over another guy. He was devouring Gil’s washboard abs and staring at his crotch too. I knew Nick was turned on. His shorts were about to rip from the strain. I was furious, and hurt. “Why are you looking at him?” I snapped. “Come on, you gotta admit, he’s hot,” said Nick. “Well, you don’t have to undress him with your eyes.” “I’m just looking.” “Bullshit.” Nick was so wrapped up in checking out Mr. Gorgeous that he was still only half listening to what I said. My heart sank. “Man!” he said, still lusting over Gil, like I wasn’t even there.

I could feel my face growing red and hot. This wasn’t the first time I’d caught Nick checking out Gil. He was always staring at his ass or something. I felt queasy. I guess this is where it starts, I thought to myself. In a few days, I’ll be history and Nick will be going out with Gil. I bit my lip. I was not going to cry. “I’m going home,” I said. “Sean? Why?” I gave Nick an angry look. He knew why. I felt like ripping into him, but I knew I couldn’t do it without bawling. “I’m just going, okay?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I just took off. Damn! I just knew something like this was going to happen. I knew I wasn’t hot enough to keep a guy like Nick interested for long. Gil Wadena. Yeah, it figured Nick would go for him. He liked ‘em tall, dark, and handsome and no one fit that description better than Gil. I sighed. I couldn’t compete with him. Gil was one of the few black kids at our school and I know Nick was intrigued by him. I had to admit, he was hot; smooth ebony skin, rippling pecs, bulging biceps, perfect abs, and a cute little butt. On top of that he was handsome, the kind of handsome that made you want to do whatever he said. There was something else too. I had gym with Gil. I’d seen him in the shower. What everyone said about black guys was true, at least it was with Gil. I’ve never seen one that big before.

Face it, Sean, you’re outclassed. You don’t have a prayer competing against Gil. You might as well just hand Nick over right now. I gulped, and sobbed. I loved Nick so much...and I was going to lose him.

Avery Two feelings were almost perfectly balanced as I walked back to my room. The first was fear. The paper that Sean had found almost perfectly described what I’d been dreaming the night before, right down to me knocking over the lamp and cracking the mirror. The date was even the same. The night before was July 14, and so was the date on the paper. I would’ve suspected that Sean had set me up and planted that paper to “find” while we were looking around the house — in fact I did suspect it at first, until I thought about it — but it just wasn’t possible. The note was clearly very, very old. Even if he could fake such a thing and make it look old, Sean would’ve had to have read my mind to know what I’d been dreaming about the night before. It was just too eerie, and I was scared. The second feeling I was experiencing was curiosity... intense curiosity. How had I known where the library was located? How did I know where the entrance to that secret passage was? I’d never even been in Graymoor before. It wasn’t like I’d read about it, or seen it on some haunted house program on television. It was just weird. Graymoor was too familiar, when it shouldn’t have been familiar at all. And then there was the note. The coincidences were intriguing. If it was part of a journal, I wanted to find the rest of it.

That night I had trouble sleeping again. Once more, when I did fall asleep, I began to dream. This dream was more pleasant. There was a boy in the dream with me, of maybe sixteen. He was taller than I was in the dream, but with a slighter build. We were fishing in a pond with long cane poles. I looked into the water and saw a reflection of myself, but it wasn’t me. It was a boy of maybe fifteen, very handsome and very powerfully built. He was thickly muscled and I might have thought him older, if it weren’t for his boyish face. I was him in the dream, and I liked it. I liked being muscular and strong. Me and the other boy laughed while we fished, but then I became unhappy, as if something bad had happened. Then I was out chopping wood by myself, my thick muscles straining with the effort, sweat pouring off me. I kept at it until I was exhausted. The other boy wasn’t there, but I had the feeling he was in trouble too. The scene blurred. I was in the house. There was an argument downstairs and then I was screaming and shrieking. My dream shifted and I wasn’t the boy anymore. I was me. I was in the motel room with Dave. He was on top of me. I screamed because I was terrified, and he was hurting me. My eyes popped open and I realized I really was screaming, sitting bolt upright in bed, wailing my head off. Sean was at the door looking in. “Are you okay?” he asked timidly.

I didn’t answer at first. I just stared at him blankly. I was disoriented. “Yeah,” I said at last. “I had some kinda nightmare.” “You want me to stay with you for awhile?” asked Sean. “Yes, please,” I said. I knew it was only a dream, but I was so frightened that I was still shaking. Part of it wasn’t just a dream. Part of it was a memory of what had really happened to me. No matter how hard I tried to forget what Dave had done to me, it kept coming back at me. That disgusting fag was always popping into my thoughts, forcing his way in, just as he’d forced himself on me. Now he was even in my fucking dreams! I shivered. Remembering what had happened struck fear into my heart. I had to remind myself that it was all over, and that I was safe. I wasn’t with Dave anymore, and I wasn’t out on the streets. Sean’s parents stuck their head in my room, but left again after I’d told them I’d had a nightmare, and they’d seen that Sean was staying with me. I thought about telling Sean about my dream, but parts of it were so messed up I didn’t know even how to describe them. I had no intention of telling him, or anyone, about what had happened with Dave and the boys in Minneapolis. The memory of the whole thing was too painful to put into words. There was much that had happened that I’d never tell. I’d done things I was ashamed of, and things had been done to me that were unspeakable.

But the dream still intrigued me — the parts not about Dave that is. I wondered why I was dreaming that stuff. It didn’t make sense. “Could we go looking for more of that journal tomorrow?” I asked Sean after a long while. “Yeah, I’d like that,” said Sean. “Looks like we couldn’t do anything else anyway.” He looked toward the window at the rain that was striking hard against the panes. I thought about telling him how my dream of the night before had matched the journal entry we’d found, but he’d probably think I was a bit odd. I decided to keep it to myself. Instead, we talked about where we might look for the rest of the journal, until I began to get sleepy again. “I think I might be able to sleep now,” I said, yawning. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep then,” said Sean. I smiled. Maybe my cousin wasn’t so bad after all. I was beginning to like him. I fell asleep soon after, and luckily had no more dreams. *** We began our search again the very next morning. I wondered at our chances for success. The house was so huge that the journal we were seeking could be anywhere. The single page we’d found had been

hidden, so it was likely the rest of it was hidden, too. We began our search in the library, but it was clear it would take days, perhaps even weeks, to look through all those books. We spent all morning there, with no luck at all. It wasn’t until it was nearly time for lunch that we found something. I knocked a painting to the side when I was reaching for yet another book. A small sheaf of papers fell from behind it. Sean and I scooped them up almost instantly. They were handwritten, and the handwriting was the same as that on the paper we’d found the day before... July 15, 1870 My new home is huge and magnificently beautiful. My bedroom here is very nearly as large as the entire cabin I lived in with my mother and father! I miss them dearly, but I don’t want to think about that right now, for it is far too painful. Father built our log cabin with the help of neighbors in only two days. Edward says it took four dozen workmen over two years to build his family’s home. His father calls it a mansion, and it is. It is the largest house in town, and probably even in the state. I don’t care much for Edward’s father, although feeling that way makes me feel ungrateful. I know I’m very lucky that he took me in. If he had not, I’m not sure what I would have done. I suppose I’d have had to go to work somewhere and that would

have been my life. Here, I have a chance at much more. I’ve not only been taken in, I’ve been adopted, which means my future is pretty much assured. I didn’t have even that with my own parents. I wish I was back with them still, but that is not possible. They are in God’s hands now. I really like Edward. His father insists that I be called William, but Ed calls me Will whenever he isn’t around. Ed is almost two different boys. He acts one way around his parents, all proper and polite, and another way entirely when they are gone. When they aren’t around, Ed is always laughing and getting into mischief. I’ve been here less than a week, but Ed already feels like a brother. Well, not a brother exactly, but like a very, very good friend. I adore Ed’s little sister, Ellie, so very much! She is a sweet little girl of seven that I just cannot resist picking up to hug. She calls me her brother and I like that a great deal. Ed dotes on her terribly, but she is not spoilt. She is as sweet and loving as a child can be. She is too young to be much of a companion, but Ed always takes time out to play with her, and so do I. Even if she was a boy, she’d be too young to join in on much of what we do, and as a girl, she just can’t. Ed loves her, however, and I feel that I love her too. Ed’s mother is a beautiful lady, quite small. She is kind, but always goes along with Mr. Graymoor. I think she would be a much kinder person if he

were not around, but I suppose I’m being ungrateful again. She too dotes on Ellie, but only when Mr. Graymoor is not around. The whole family acts differently when he is near. Thankfully, he’s gone most of the time. He leaves early in the morning to see to his business in town and returns only late in the evening on most days. He does pop up during the day now and then, so one never knows when he will appear. I almost think he does it on purpose. I began to feel a certain kinship with the boy who had written these words, almost as if I knew him. He was writing about moving into Graymoor long ago, and now here I was doing the same. Even Sean remarked on the similarities. The writer of the journal had just lost his parents too, but I didn’t want to think about that. There were more entries in the sheaf of papers we’d found, so Sean and I sat down and read them. July 16, 1870 Today, I started “school” even though it is summer. Ed is expected to spend regular hours studying, from ten in the morning until three in the afternoon, and I am expected to do the same. A tutor comes in twice a week to check on our progress, make assignments, and give us tests. I am very glad my mother taught me to read and write, or else I’d be in terrible trouble with my lessons.

As it is, I feel very ignorant in history, geography, and arithmetic. The tutor, Master Blessing, is not patient or kind and called me “stupid” more than once today. I try not to let it bother me, but I feel embarrassed in front of Ed. He is barely a year older than me, but he is ever so much smarter. He says I will catch up quickly and that it isn’t my fault that I never attended school. I don’t think I could make it if Ed were not so kind. If he were hateful, I think I would run away. July 19, 1870 I did not have time to write the last two days because I was so busy studying. I have been working late trying to catch up and understand. I think it is a hopeless cause. I’m doing all right with the literature parts and not too bad with history, but I just cannot comprehend arithmetic at all. Geography is little better. I can’t remember all those places and what they do there. I don’t see why I should even bother as I shall never go to any of those places anyway. The more I read of the journal, the closer I felt to the boy who wrote it. I, too, had difficulty in math. I’d also been called “stupid” — not by a teacher, but by other kids at school. It made me hate them, and feel bad about myself. I found myself wanting to talk to this boy and tell him that I understood, and that it was okay.

That was a silly thought, however, as he was long dead for certain. That was all that was written. Rather than satisfying my curiosity, it made me hunger for more. Sean seemed keen to find more of it, too. After lunch, we began our search once more, this time in the downstairs study. “You know, I think I know who wrote the journal,” said Sean thoughtfully. “You do? Who?” “William Graymoor. The Graymoors built this house. There were two sons. One of them was Edward, and the other was William. William was adopted, so he’s almost gotta be the one who wrote the journal.” “How do you know these things?” I asked. “My parents are total history freaks,” said Sean, grinning. “They’ve dug up everything they can on this place, and those who lived here. I’ve found out a few things myself, too. Remind me later to show you the picture I have, it’s a very old photograph of Edward and William.” We kept searching, but turned up nothing. Suddenly, I had the feeling I should check out an antique desk that was sitting in the corner. It was of dark wood and sat on cast iron legs. I felt compelled to open one of the little drawers at the top and pull it out. At the very top of the desk were two small drawers with a space between. I reached into the space after pulling out the drawer and found a piece of paper there. I pulled it out. It was another part of the journal.

July 21, 1870 Our tutor was not scheduled to come today, so Ed and I left our studies behind and went fishing. In the short time I’ve known him, I’ve become really close to Eddie. There’s something very special about him, something different from the other boys I’ve had as friends. I think I might know what that is, but I dare not mention it even to him. We took a can of worms and our cane poles to a pond a mile or so from the house. We had such a wonderful time fishing and talking. We hooked several, but didn’t keep them because we couldn’t let Ed’s father know we’d played hooky. Ed’s parents have adopted me, but try as I might, I cannot come to think of Mr. Graymoor as my father. He doesn’t seem like a father. He is so distant, so forbidding and stern. He makes me feel like an inconvenience, certainly not like a son. He is even cold to Edward, his own flesh and blood! The day would have been wonderful, but Mr. Graymoor caught us when we were on our way back home. He chastised me for going without a shirt, calling me a heathen and some other things I didn’t understand. He lectured me on how it was improper to go about half naked like some savage. He was furious that we’d neglected our studies, and especially angry with me for not wearing a shirt. He escorted us both back to the house, pulling us along by the ears the entire way. Once

there, he put Edward to work studying, and told me to chop wood while I thought about my sins. It was blazing hot out and my long sleeves stuck to my arms as I worked. I was miserable and my muscles began to ache. I felt like a slave instead of a son. Edward was merely put back to work for what he’d done, but I was forced to toil and sweat like a common laborer. Mr. Graymoor didn’t come to get me until past time for supper, and then he sent me to bed with an empty stomach.. Edward sneaked into my room and checked on me after everyone else was asleep. He brought me some biscuits and cold ham. I devoured everything. He alone seemed to care about me. I was terribly exhausted, but the punishment had been worth it. Being with Ed was a lot of fun. “This makes twice,” I said. “Huh?” “I didn’t tell you yesterday, Sean, because I was afraid you’d think I was nuts, but I swear to God, I dreamed the things that were written on the paper, the night before! Last night, I dreamed I went fishing with some older kid, then I felt that we got in some kinda trouble, and then I dreamed I was chopping wood in the hot sun.” Sean just looked at me, as if maybe he thought I was nuts.

“Are you serious? Or just jerking me around?” he asked suspiciously. “I’m not makin’ this up. I dreamed this stuff!” “Okay, okay. I’ll believe you for now, but if you dream anything tonight, I want to hear about it before we go looking for more of this journal.” “Fair enough,” I said. I could understand him not believing me. I sure wouldn’t have believed it if he was telling me the story. I was feeling uncomfortable about it, but intrigued too. Was it just coincidence, or something more? *** I walked into my room and took my shoes off, placing them on the dresser. I’d been outside exploring the grounds, but it had become too dark to continue. I couldn’t believe the size of the yard. It took up an entire city block, and was surrounded on all sides by an ancient iron fence. There were huge trees in the yard, along with the ruins of an old garden. I half expected to find an old graveyard there or something. I sat in a chair and peeled off my socks. They were soaking wet. The rain had stopped, but the grass was still wet and I’d stepped in a couple of puddles. The thought occurred to me that I shouldn’t have put my shoes on the dresser. It was an antique, and my aunt would probably get upset if I messed it up. I got up and

went to the dresser. I stopped. My shoes weren’t there! I’d just set them there a moment ago, hadn’t I? I was positive I had, but they sure the hell weren’t there now. I looked at the floor, but the shoes were nowhere to be found. I’d surely have heard them if they had fallen. What the fuck was going on? I wondered if Sean was playing some trick on me... but how could he? There was only one door, so he couldn’t possibly have slipped in without me seeing him. And besides, it wasn’t more than a minute since I’d put my shoes there. I looked around the room, although I knew I hadn’t placed my shoes somewhere else. I looked back at the dresser. My shoes were back again! What the fuck? I knew damned well they weren’t there a few moments before. First they were there, then they weren’t, then they were! Was I losing my mind? I decided my shoes were there the entire time. Somehow I just didn’t see them when I looked. And yet I’d been sure they weren’t there and it gave me a chill. Great, I thought. Now I was beginning to see things. I put the shoes on the floor and tried to forget about it. Despite my efforts, I looked back at my shoes now and then, just to make sure they were still there. I dared them to disappear again.

Sean “Damn!” I walked away from the scales, sat down on the edge of the bed, and let a wave of depression flow over me. I’d had a crappy salad instead of pizza for supper last night. I’d totally kept away from candy, cookies, and anything that even remotely resembled dessert all week. I’d even eaten that nasty broccoli for lunch one day. I’d tried so hard and not only did I not lose an ounce, I gained a pound! I couldn’t blame it on my clothes either. I weighed in my boxers. I was sure the ones I had on didn’t weigh a pound more than the ones I’d worn last week. Maybe I was destined to be fat. I stepped to the dresser mirror and gazed at myself. I was such a slob. A little roll of fat hung over the band of my boxers. I was so unattractive. I thought about Gil. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on him anywhere. He was all firm muscle. No wonder Nick drooled over him. I raised my right arm and flexed. My bicep jumped up, looking kinda like a real small football. Gil’s arms were at least twice as big as mine. I was pathetic. I had a boy’s body, a flabby, overweight boy’s body. I’d seen Nick hanging out with Gil again, just a couple of days before. They were havin’ a big ole time.

I was on my way to the grocery to pick up some bread and eggs for Mom and there they were. Nick had long yearned for Gil and now Gil was hanging around Nick. I couldn’t stand it! Nick knew I didn’t like it either. He acted like I was being silly when I displayed jealousy, but he was hanging around with Gil behind my back. Gil was supposed to be a hot-shot with the girls, but I saw the way he looked at Nick when he thought no one was looking. I knew what that look meant. Gil definitely wasn’t straight as an arrow. He was at least a little bent. He was sure bent enough to be after my boyfriend. I felt a sob raising in my throat. Nick was laughing with him when I’d seen them. He was laughing so hard he reached out and put his hand on Gil’s shoulder. I bet Gil just ate that up... the horny football jock. What was I gonna do if Nick dumped my fat ass for Gil? Ha! If? More like when. I didn’t have what Gil had. He had muscles. Hell, just looking at him made me stiff. Nick couldn’t help but be attracted to him. It was only a matter of time before he got tired of me and went with Gil instead. No! I wasn’t going to let it happen. I didn’t care what it took, I was gonna keep my boyfriend. I’d starve myself. I’d work out like a maniac. I’d do anything to keep Nick! ***

“What up?” said Marshall, as soon as he was in the front door. “Maybe nothing, but I thought this would interest you,” I said. I told him nothing more until we were in my room and the door was shut. “You know my cousin, Avery, that I told you about?” “Yeah.” “Well, he’s been having these weird dreams. They aren’t that big of a deal in themselves, but what’s odd is how his dreams are somehow related to this old journal we’ve been finding.” His eyes grew wide. “Journal?” “Yeah. Here,” I said, handing him the part of the journal we’d found that day. “We found the first bit just yesterday. Today we found two more parts, in separate locations. It looks like someone has torn the pages out and hidden them all over the house. Odd thing is, we’re finding them in order. There could be some parts that go in-between that we haven’t found, but the first was dated July 14, 1870, the next July 15, then July 16, July 19, and July 20 — all from the same year. “What’s going to interest you, however, is that Avery said he’s been dreaming some of the stuff we’re reading in the journal... before we read it.” “Awesome!” said Marshall excitedly, before growing more serious. “You think he’s for real, or is he just playin’ some kinda joke on you?”

“I don’t know. The journal sure looks real enough, and I don’t think he’d know enough to fake it.” “Yeah, this is definitely old,” said Marshall, holding the page an inch away from his eye. “You’re right about him not being able to fake it either. You or I could make up stuff that fits with what we know, but he couldn’t.” “True. Besides, I found one page of it several days ago, before he even arrived.” I thought for a moment. “Well, I didn’t exactly find it. It found me.” “Huh?” “It just kind of appeared in my bed. It wasn’t there when I went to sleep, but something woke me in the night and there is was.” “I’d say you were meant to read it. What did it say anyway?” I dug out the page and handed it to Marshall. “It’s doesn’t say much of anything,” I told him. “Yeah, you’re right, but now you’re finding more of it. Something is up.” “Ghosts?” I said, glancing around the room. “Nah, not in this house,” Marshall laughed. “The first page I found with Avery just kind of appeared too. Well, it didn’t appear, but it floated down from above when we were looking around in the library. I guess I could’ve knocked it down somehow, but I don’t see how.”

“It sounds to me like someone intends for you to read the journal.” “Yeah, I’m gettin’ that idea too... but who?” “Hopefully, we’ll find that out,” he replied. “Who do you think wrote it?” I asked after Marshall had sat and read the journal entries. “William Graymoor, there’s not much doubt about that.” I nodded. “That’s what I think, too. I think the journal’s real. I’m wondering, though: what if Avery found the journal, then tore it into parts and hid them? He could be reading them, then ‘finding’ them, then telling me he’d dreamed what was in them. He’s done almost all of the discovering so far. There was just that one page I found before he arrived, but maybe he came across the rest of it.” “That’s definitely a possibility,” said Marshall. “I plan on catching him at it, if that is what’s up,” I said. “He’s also been telling me of the dreams after we read the journal entries. I told him that tomorrow I want to hear about any dreams he’s had first — then we’ll go looking for more of the journal.” “Good idea.” “Assuming that we really are finding the parts of the journal as it seems, and that Avery hasn’t got it and is hiding bits of it to ‘find’ later, what do you think is going on?”

I was asking Marshall this question because it was his area of expertise. Marshall was an absolute encyclopedia of information on ghosts and odd happenings of all sorts. I’d once thought him quite bizarre, until I’d come face to face with ghosts myself. Marshall had been of great assistance in the recent past and I credited him with saving my life. That’s another story, however. “It could be that Avery is somehow picking up the memories of William Graymoor,” he said thoughtfully. “As you well know, very traumatic or violent events can permeate an area of space and then play themselves back for those sensitive enough to pick up on them.” I understood that all too well. When I’d first come to Graymoor, and for many weeks after, I’d been frightened out of my wits by the scene of a grisly murder being reenacted over and over again. “This could also be a direct attempt at communication on the part of William Graymoor himself. Perhaps he has something to say to Avery, or to all of us. A séance might be a good idea.” “Or not,” I said. Marshall smiled slightly. Our last séance had a rather frightening outcome, and destroyed one of my mom’s candles as well. Something we had done had blown it to bits, right before our very eyes. “Of course,” said Marshall, “this could simply be mere coincidence. If it keeps repeating, we can rule that

out, but we’ll need more evidence to make any kind of judgment.” Marshall was very smart about these things. I could tell he didn’t think what had happened was coincidence. I knew he was hoping that Avery wasn’t pulling a fast one. Marshall lived for ghostly encounters. “Can I stay tonight?” asked Marshall eagerly. “Of course,” I told him, “just pick a room. You know my parents won’t mind.” I knew Marshall was hoping for some excitement of an otherworldly kind. He’d been more than a little disappointed that Graymoor had been bereft of ghostly encounters in the last few weeks. I was somewhat disappointed too, but I did sleep better at night. Even if Avery was faking, the old house was definitely beginning to stir. “Does Avery know what happened to the Graymoor boys?” asked Marshall. “No. I haven’t told him yet.” “Okay, then I won’t either. I think we should keep that back. Even if he’s got the journal and is planting parts of it, he won’t know about that.” I introduced Marshall to Avery later in the evening. He didn’t say anything, but I had the distinct impression that Marshall didn’t like him in the least. When I asked him about it later, I wasn’t wrong. “I get this really bad vibe from him,” said Marshall. “He’s not as nice as he seems. I feel like... like there’s a

strong streak of anger and cruelty in him. I don’t trust him, Sean.” Marshall’s words made me uneasy. I’d learned to trust his instincts. He was an odd boy, but he was very perceptive. Sometimes I felt like he could read just about anybody’s mind. The night wasn’t without event, although no ghosts haunted us. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, I was awakened by Avery screaming again. I ran into his room, followed closely by Marshall. Avery had just had another bad dream; it was nothing more than that. “Tell us about it,” I said. “This dream wasn’t really bad,” he said. “It just kinda caught me by surprise. There was a storm, and a cat jumped up into bed with me. What scared me was the limb that came crashing through the window. It just... startled me. Glass was flying everywhere.” He shook his head, then looked up at me. “That was the whole dream, or at least all I can remember of it. There could’ve been more, I guess, but I’m sure nothing else important happened.” Avery looked toward the window as if half-expecting his dream to come true. “Should we stay with you?” I asked. “No. I’m okay — just startled, is all. I’m not even sure why I cried out.” Avery looked as if he felt a bit silly.

Marshall watched Avery closely. I knew he was gathering evidence. From his expression, I knew that he believed that at least Avery’s dream was genuine. *** “Sean? Sean?” “W-what?” I asked. I was holding onto the polished banister. Marshall and I were going downstairs for breakfast when everything went black on me. I felt like I did when I got up way too fast, but this time I was just walking. My head felt funny and I was all weak and shaky. “You okay?” “Yeah, just kinda dizzy for a second. I’m okay now.” Just a few minutes later, we were in the kitchen having breakfast. Avery shuffled in while Mom was frying Marshall some bacon. “Would you like some bacon, dear?” asked Mom. “Sure,” said Avery, “thanks.” He got some juice out of the fridge and poured himself a glass. “Is that all you’re eating?” asked Avery. I was munching on a piece of dry toast. It wasn’t bad, but it would have been a whole lot better with some margarine and jelly. “Yeah, I’m not all that hungry,” I lied.

“I am. I could eat my weight in waffles.” Avery took the syrup pitcher and squeezed out a small river of syrup on his waffles. They were golden brown. I sniffed the air. The waffles and bacon smelled heavenly. “You sure you don’t want some?” asked Marshall with his mouth full. “Nah, I’m okay.” “You haven’t been eating enough, Sean. You should at least have some juice,” said Mom. “Maybe I’ll have some later.” It took forever for Marshall and Avery to finish. I nibbled on my toast slowly, trying to make it last. Finally, they were done and we set out in search of the journal. We managed to find three separate pages of it early on, but they weren’t of great interest. They just told of rather ordinary events. I was surprised we were doing so well in finding parts of the journal, but they seemed to be hidden in similar places; behind books, concealed in secret compartments in desks and chests, behind paintings and so on. They were well hidden, but when one learned where to look, finding them was easier than you might’ve thought. I didn’t tell the others, but I often felt a strange compulsion to look in certain places for the journal. When I did so, there was always a bit of it there. It wasn’t until mid-morning that we found something interesting. Marshall had barely started reading it out loud when it began to seem familiar.

July 28, 1870 There was a terrific thunderstorm last night. The wind blew so that the house seemed to shake. My windows rattled and the thunder was so very loud it hurt my ears. Ellie’s little cat was so frightened it jumped into bed with me. I lay and held the poor creature against my chest, petting it to calm it. That seemed to help. It did not go to sleep, but lay against my heart as the storm raged. I had quite a fright when a great limb broke loose from a tree and part of it crashed through my window, sending glass flying. I was not hurt, neither was the cat, but both of us were terrified for a bit. Ed came running in to check on me and his mother moved me to another room for the night. Workmen are already repairing the window and I will be back in my room tonight. We all looked at each other. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. The cat, the limb crashing through the window, all of it was just too much like Avery’s dream. I looked at Avery. He seemed shaken, and genuinely perplexed. If he was planting bits of the journal, he was one damned good actor. I still held that in my mind as a possibility, but I didn’t really believe it. We looked more, but discovered nothing else that day. Marshall seemed quite content with what we had

discovered. When we were alone later I asked what he thought of Avery’s reaction to the note. He found it as genuine as I did. It seemed we had a little mystery on our hands. I was sure I’d be seeing a lot more of Marshall in the coming days.

Avery I wandered about the house by myself, looking for more of the journal. Sean was out and about somewhere, but I didn’t mind being left to myself. It gave me a chance to think about a few things. I’d recently been informed that Ryan was out of the hospital and didn’t have any permanent damage from the beating I’d given him. I was still in trouble, but because of what had happened to my parents, the authorities were taking it easy on me. I wasn’t going to be sent to any kind of juvenile detention center or anything. I was on ninety days probation, however. The social worker had made it clear that I’d be screwed if I didn’t keep my nose clean. If I got arrested or got caught drinking or something, my ass would be hauled to Juvenile Hall for a minimum of three months. I sure as hell didn’t want that to happen. I just knew there’d be a bunch of guys there, like Michael and his fag friends, just waiting to make me their little bitch. I tried not to even think about it. Graymoor was the oddest house ever. I climbed up a stairway that went absolutely nowhere. It just ended. I thought that maybe there was a secret passage hidden there or something, but I couldn’t find one. More than once, I opened a door to find nothing more than a brick wall. I wondered if the builder had some weird sense of humor, or if a room had been walled up. If so, why? What was hidden behind the bricks? I didn’t think my

aunt and uncle would appreciate me demolishing part of their house, so I guessed it’d have to remain a unsolved mystery. I eventually tired of my fruitless search of the house. Graymoor was dark for the most part, even in the day. It was gloomy, too, and sometimes I felt as if I were trapped there. The sun shining bright outside beckoned to me. It was a beautiful day. My mood was much improved as soon as I stepped out into the bright sunlight. It was as if I were leaving one world and entering another. I set out to explore the little town that was now my home. After strolling about ten blocks, I realized I was right: it was a little hick town. There just wasn’t much to it. I walked past the school I’d be attending in the fall. It was kind of old and run down, not unlike any other school. I wondered what it’d be like there, but I guessed I’d find out when the time came. I went to the park and discovered it was a lot bigger than the one in my old hometown. It was better-kept too. It was a hot day and I was burning up. I pulled off my shirt and sat on a bench for a bit, watching everyone go by. There were some pretty cute girls there. I felt a stirring in my shorts as my eyes followed the girls walking past. Some of them were so fine. Fuck, I needed a girlfriend. It was like a million years since I’d so much as made out. I thought about Carrie. I was sooo close to nailing her, then I blew it, big time. That was one cool thing about coming to a new town. No one knew anything about me. This time around I wasn’t

going to do anything stupid to mess up my rep. I’d be so fucking sweet and charming that girls would line up to date me. When I got one to put out, I’d keep my fucking mouth shut, no matter how much I wanted to brag. It’d sure as hell be a lot better getting some and not being able to talk about it, than it would to blow it like I did with Carrie. I needed some action and I was willing to do anything to get it. I used to laugh at dudes that were ‘whipped’, but if I was getting some, I wouldn’t care. I was desperate. I tried to make eye contact with a few girls, but none of them would hold still long enough for me to accomplish anything. I sat there and watched a group of high school boys play volleyball. They seemed to think they were hot stuff. I didn’t really care for them. I didn’t like guys who thought they were better than me. Some good-looking girls were drooling over them, ogling the muscles of their bare chests. That made me angrier still. How was I gonna land a girl when guys like that were around? As I sat there, I noticed a boy looking at them a lot — the boys, that is, not the girls. He obviously had a keen interest in them, but was trying to pretend he didn’t. “Damn,” I thought to myself, “another little fag. Are they everywhere or what?” I smiled when I thought about Ryan. It was so satisfying to feel my fist contacting with his face. When I thought I’d killed him, I’d experienced some guilt, but he was fine, so I had no regrets. I didn’t mind beating

him so bad he lost consciousness. He was a fag. He deserved it. I just wished I could’ve done the same to Dave. I hated him. He’d raped me, pure and simple. Just thinking about it again gave me a sick feeling in my gut. I’d never forgive him for what he’d done to me. I’d never forgive any of them. If it wasn’t for Ryan being such a pussy he passed out, I wouldn’t have thought I’d killed him. I wouldn’t have run. Then, Dave wouldn’t have done what he did to me. I wouldn’t have had to do what I did with Michael and that guy in the hotel room, either. I wouldn’t have gotten beat up by Michael and his friends. Things would’ve been different. My parents would still be alive. I hated queers. I hated them all. I wished they were all dead. When I looked back at the boy, he was looking at me, no doubt mistaking the meaning of my smile. God, how queers made my skin crawl. The boy looked normal enough until I’d noticed him checking out the musclebound guys playing volleyball. That was the problem with queers; they looked like normal people until you spotted them. They could sneak up on you like a snake in the grass. There was no knowing who was a fag and who wasn’t, until you caught them checking out guys. Faggots should have to wear a fucking armband or something, or maybe be branded with a big “F” on their forehead. The little fag reminded me a little of Michael, the street boy who sold his body for money. That was another reason to hate the little bastard. All fags were

evil. They took advantage of straight boys like me. It should be legal to kill them. The boy was smiling at me. I smiled a little too, but it was because I was thinking about taking him where no one could hear him scream. I played out a little fantasy in my head about beating him senseless. I wished I had the opportunity to do it. I ran through the fantasy a bit more in my head, then gave it up. I couldn’t risk getting caught gay bashing. If I did something like that again, I had to make sure I didn’t get caught, or my ass would be grass. I sighed. Life was so unfair. I tried to ignore the boy, but it wasn’t easy. Several minutes later, I got up and left. The little queer followed me. I wasn’t in the mood to mess with him and I couldn’t get away with kicking his pansy ass, so after a few blocks I turned quickly on my heel and stared him down. “What the fuck are you doin’?” “Uh, nothing,” he said. “Listen, faggot, just put your eyes back in your head and get whatever is on your mind off it, because I’m not a disgusting perv like you. I hate queers and if you so much as look at me again, I’m gonna fuck you up good. Understand?” “Uh, yeah.” The boy nodded furiously. He was clearly frightened. He didn’t even bother to try and stand up for himself. Queers never did. They only

struck when they had a clear advantage, when there was no risk. They were cowards, and I hated them for it. The boy tore off down the street, probably grateful that I didn’t pound his fucking face into mush. I looked up and noticed Sean standing there. I guess he’d seen it all. “Fucking little fag,” I said, indicating the boy who had just left. “They make my skin crawl.” Sean just stared at me for a moment without saying anything. “Um, I was just heading back home. How ‘bout you?” he said, finally. “Yeah, I guess. I was thinkin’ of going back later to tan in the park, but I don’t think I’m in the mood for that now,” I said, thinking of the little queer who had just left. I didn’t want his kind checking me out. “I found more of the journal,” said Sean. “Anything good?” “Depends on what you call good, but it’s interesting. There’s no doubt anymore about who wrote it either. This part was signed.” I didn’t ask the name; I wanted to see it for myself. Sean handed me a couple of sheets of paper when we got home. I read them eagerly. July 4, 1870

It is very late, but I want to record the events of the day while they are fresh in my mind. It is the 4th of July and there was a huge picnic in the meadow to the west of town. Everyone in town seemed to be there. We rode out in a fancy carriage, but most of the townsfolk just walked. Those who lived out of town came in on wagons. There was a great deal of food set out on long tables. Everyone brought some. I’d never seen so many different kinds of things to eat in one place before. There were a huge group of boys, two dozen at least, and there were races and even wrestling matches. The wrestling was done as a tournament and I won! I came very close to getting beat in the last match. I was pitted against a slightly older boy with black hair and a sharp nose. He had a nasty look to him. I don’t mean ugly because he was quite handsome. He just seemed a nasty sort, and I soon discovered he truly was, too. As we wrestled he pulled my hair and pushed his knee painfully hard into my privates. His knee hurt me so badly he nearly beat me, but it made me terribly angry and I came back at him all the harder. He was frightfully angry when I beat him, but the other boys put me up on their shoulders and carried me around, cheering. Ed stood up and clapped for me, as did Ellie. Mr. Graymoor didn’t say a word about my victory. He had a very cross look on his face that made me feel common.

We all gorged ourselves and us boys made good use of the day. Ed and I usually didn’t have other boys to play with, so it was fun doing sports with them. I especially liked it because I’m good at that sort of thing. When it grew dark, a magnificent bonfire was lit. It sent sparks flying high into the sky. I was tired by then, having run around all day, but it was the most fun I’d had in a long time. Along the edge of the page was written “Will Graymoor". It looked like Sean was right. He’d said all along that it had to be him. I was really starting to like this Will Graymoor. It was odd, but I felt myself growing attached to him. I felt like I knew him. I guess reading his innermost thoughts somehow made me feel close to him. Will seemed a great deal like me, too. I liked what he wrote about the wrestling match. Someone pulling my hair and pressing his knee into my nuts would’ve pissed me off, too. It was funny how Will wrote some things, like saying ‘privates,’ but I guess people just talked kinda funny in 1870. I bet Will would’ve beaten the shit out of the little queer in the park if he’d been in my shoes. Will was tough and I was willing to bet he didn’t take any shit from anybody. He would’ve pounded the little fairy’s face in, just for looking at him. It was too bad Will had lived in another time. I think we could’ve been best buds.

Sean I set out for the Selby farm once again on my mountain bike. Farm work was often hard work, but I loved it for a lot of reasons. I think I’d have gone crazy if I didn’t have anything to do all summer long except wander around the house, even a house as huge as Graymoor. This summer, I had Avery to hang out with, but we weren’t entirely compatible. I was glad to get away from him now and then. I’d recently been working fewer hours at the farm, and hanging around home more, at the request of my parents. They wanted me to spend time with Avery and help him settle in. I figured he was pretty much settled now, so I intended to get back to the farm. I thought about what Avery had called that boy and what he’d said about him after he was gone. “They make my skin crawl,” he’d said, meaning gays. I nearly told him right then and there that I was gay, but something held me back. It wasn’t because I was afraid. If Avery gave me crap for it, I could stand up for myself. I’d stood up to more dangerous guys than him. Somehow, it just didn’t seem time for him to know I was gay. I didn’t know why, but I knew it nonetheless. I love the peace and quiet of the farm and the natural beauty of huge fields of corn, beans, and wheat. I loved the chickens, goats, sheep, and cattle. I loved spending

time with Ethan and Nathan. And most of all I loved it because my boyfriend, Nick, was there. I bet Avery would totally freak if he knew I had a boyfriend. I bet he would freak if he knew about Ethan and Nathan, too. Ethan and Nathan had lived together since they were about my age. They’d fallen in love long ago, and had never fallen out of it. Seeing them so happy together made me feel secure and safe. I hoped that Nick and I could have that kind of relationship, but I wasn’t so sure. We sure wouldn’t if Nick kept spending time with Gil. I was still fuming over seeing them together. I wondered if they’d been seeing each other while I was busy with my cousin. I’m sure Avery wouldn’t view the relationship between Ethan and Nathan the same way I did. I bet he wouldn’t dare to say anything about it around them either. I’d seen Ethan without a shirt many times and he looked like some living Greek statue or something. Nathan was of slighter build, but he was strong. I found it hard to believe that he was once scrawny, but he told me himself that he was when he first came to the farm. Both Ethan and Nathan were very handsome, too — Ethan with his black hair and piercing eyes, and Nathan with his beautiful blond hair and bluish eyes. I hoped I looked that good in twenty years. Hell, I wished that I looked that good now! A wave of sadness flowed over me. Sometimes I felt inferior around Ethan and Nathan. Their hard bodies only served to emphasize my flabby form. No wonder

Nick was hanging out with Gil. I felt like crying. How could I compete with a dude that had muscles like that? I leaned my bike against the front porch, just as Ethan came out of the house carrying a water cooler. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was all sweaty and a little dirty. The sweat running down his chest was just so sexy. Yeah, I’m nothin’ but a fat assed slob. I thought to myself. “Hey, Sean! Glad you’re back.” “Me, too.” I tried to sound cheerful, even though I wasn’t feeling so hot. “Nick’s out riding. He should be back soon. The garden’s in desperate need of weeding and watering, so you two can take care of that today. Nathan hasn’t been able to do it because he’s been with me digging out a drainage ditch.” “You guys sure know how to have fun,” I laughed. “Ah, it’s not so bad. I like digging.” Ethan was smiling. He was one of the few guys I knew who really enjoyed manual labor. He was very physical. “Hey, here’s Nick now. I need to run.” Nick came galloping up full speed on a beautiful stallion. Ethan threw him a wave, then climbed in an old pickup and drove away between the fields of corn. Nick jumped down off his horse and ran to me. He clasped me in his arms and spun me around in a hug. I felt a whole lot better in his embrace and suddenly

wondered why I’d had any doubts about him. I kissed him on the lips in greeting. “Hey, cutie,” I said. “Hey, sexy.” Nick kissed me again. I was glad to see he was in good spirits. I never knew when he’d be happy and when he’d be upset. His past seemed to haunt him. Things had happened to him that not even the love of Ethan, Nathan, and myself combined could completely erase. “I guess we better knock this off and get to work,” I said, then kissed him some more. “Yeah, we need to,” Nick answered, then kissed me once again. We kept kissing even as we were pulling away from each other. When our lips parted, I sighed and headed for the small shed near the garden, and Nick led his horse to the big pasture behind the barn. I could tell Nathan had been neglecting the garden. He must have been really busy. He usually kept in it tip-top shape. The tomato plants were drooping a little and the green beans didn’t look a whole lot better. There were also a great many weeds among the vegetables and flowers. It looked like Nick and I had our work cut out for us. I loved the garden. It was quite a sight. It wasn’t just a little garden like most people keep. It must have covered half an acre. I liked the way that Nathan mixed in flowers with the vegetables. There were all kinds of beautiful red, yellow, blue, purple, and orange flowers

growing here and there among the other plants. I didn’t know the names of all the different kinds of flowers, but they added a nice touch of color among the greens of the vegetables. I got out a big galvanized watering can and filled it. Nick was at my side before I’d finished and grabbed a similar can and filled it, too. We walked along the rows together, watering the tomato plants first. Nick wasn’t wearing a shirt and I very much enjoyed the view. I forgot all about the flowers, because he was much more beautiful. When we’d emptied our cans, we headed back for more water. I pulled off my shirt while Nick was filling his can. It was already damp with sweat and was sticking to me. I hated that feeling. I was self-conscious about going without a shirt. I felt almost inferior when I was around Ethan and Nathan. Nick wasn’t muscular like them, but his body was firm and beautifully-shaped. My body wasn’t firm. I’d toned up a little through farm work and some working out, but much to my chagrin, I was still pudgy and flabby. I hated my body. I was kinda depressed because everyone else on the farm looked a lot better than me. I felt like I’d never catch up. I could work out like a maniac and never look like the rest of them. I frowned as I thought about it. I looked down and saw a roll of fat just above my jeans. Yeah, that’s real attractive, I thought. How can Nick even stand looking at me.

We refilled our watering cans and set off again. We kept going back and forth, over and over, until I lost count of how many times we’d done it. It didn’t matter. I enjoyed being with Nick. Today, however, my happiness transformed right back into sadness. I loved Nick. I loved being with him. But how long would it be before he tired of me? I knew I couldn’t compete with guys like Gil. Dating me was like settling for a hot dog when you could have steak and lobster. I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I hid my face from Nick. I didn’t want him asking what was wrong. I didn’t want to talk about it. If I did, he’d probably only leave me sooner. I really loved Nick. I loved him with all my heart. I thought again of the things Avery had said to that boy, and then said about gays. “They make my skin crawl.” He definitely didn’t understand us, if that’s what he thought of us. Of course, he probably bought into all the ridiculous stereotypes pushed by the religious right and idiots like that Dr. Laura on television. I didn’t care at all for religious people who fought with all their might for the right to discriminate against gays. They were hypocrites pure and simple. It simply astounded me that they could talk about love and caring for others, then turn right around and preach in a way that made every bigot, punk, and redneck think it was okay to beat gays senseless. Dr. Laura was even worse. I couldn’t believe anyone watched her crappy show. Her degree wasn’t even in psychology or anything related, and she was a TV psychologist! It was ridiculous. It was like a mathematician performing brain surgery. I was

delighted beyond belief by the fact that her ratings sucked, and were getting worse by the day. I know there were gay guys out there who gave us all a bad name — guys who’d sleep with anyone, a different guy for every night of the week, never even thinking about love or companionship. That could describe a lot of straight guys too. I guess there were sleazy people in every group, but the religious right and Dr. Laura liked to act like all gays were like that. That was like saying that all married men betrayed their wives and slept around, because some of them did. I leaned down close to a tomato plant. Its strong aroma wafted toward me. Tomato plants didn’t smell pretty like flowers or anything, but I liked their scent. It was very garden-like. When I inhaled that scent, it was like breathing in summer. *** I walked my bike around the corner, just in time to see Gil Wadena plant a big kiss on my boyfriend’s lips. I stopped dead in my tracks. At almost the same moment, Nick jerked his head in my direction. Our eyes met. Mine were filled with tears. I quickly climbed onto my bike, almost falling over in the process. “Sean! Sean! Wait!” Nick grabbed my arm before I could take off. “Don’t touch me!” I jerked away from him.

“Sean, it’s not what you think. Really. I can explain!” “It’s okay, Nick, you don’t have to explain,” I said angrily. “I understand well enough. I’m not stupid. I’ve seen how you look at Gil. I’ve seen you guys hanging out before. I know I’m not good enough for you. I’m just a big, fat-assed, slob. I was lucky you ever liked me at all.” “It’s not like that,” said Nick. “Don’t lie to me. You guys weren’t just shaking hands back there. I know what I saw. But hey, it’s not like I didn’t know it was coming. I knew how bad you wanted in Gil’s pants. I guess I’m not big enough for you either.” “Dammit, Sean, will you let me say something?” “You had your say when you kissed Gil! You’re supposed to be my boyfriend, remember? Not his. Mine! I knew you were going to do this. I knew you were gonna dump me, but you could have at least had the decency to tell me! Maybe we could have still been friends.” “Come on!” “You cheated on me, behind my back.” “I did not cheat on you!” “Bullshit! What was that I just saw, huh? God only knows what else you two have been doing. You’ve been screwing him, haven’t you?”

“Sean, no! Stop saying this shit. It isn’t true!” Nick was teary eyed and red-faced. He put his hand on mine. I smacked it off. “Don’t touch me, slut!” “Fuck you!” yelled Nick. “Just stay away from me, bitch! I never want to see you again!” I tore off on my bike, swerving and nearly wiping out. I was blinded by tears, pain, and rage. The boy I loved with all my heart had betrayed me. I hurt so bad I just wanted to die. I pedaled out of town, my face red and wet from crying. I dumped my bike in the grass and walked into a dense forest. I was like a wounded animal stumbling among the trees. The one thing I’d always felt was missing from my life was someone special, like Nick. When I’d met him, I felt like I could walk on air. From that moment on, I couldn’t imagine what life would be like without him. Now he was gone. He’d left me and I was alone again. I was bawling so hard I couldn’t breath. The sounds coming from me were more like shrieking than crying. Maybe I should just jump off a cliff or something, or borrow the car and... I shivered. I knew I needed help. I turned on my heel and took a few steps before realizing where I was going. I couldn’t talk to Ethan or Nathan about this. Nick was their son. I’d always gone to them with my troubles, but this time, I just couldn’t. I thought about Marshall. He’d try to help me, but he

wouldn’t really understand. Dad? He was gone as usual and I wouldn’t be comfortable talking to him about Nick. The same was true with Mom. Who else? It hit me—Brendan. My phys ed teacher from school would help me out. I could talk to him. Yeah. I walked quickly back to my bike and rode toward Brendan’s farm. Brendan was the local football coach. I always called him Brendan when I wasn’t at school. He said I could. He was cool like that. He and Casper, his boyfriend, or maybe I should say husband, or mate... Anyway, he and Casper had a farm not far from that of Ethan and Nathan. It wasn’t as big as the Selby place, but it was sure nice. I liked Brendan and Casper a lot. They were a gay couple, almost the exact same age as Ethan and Nathan. It had shocked me when I first found out, especially since Brendan was a coach. I’d have thought people would freak out over a gay guy teaching phys ed, but a lot of things had changed in Verona for the better over the years. Maybe the fact that Brendan looked like he could rip someone’s head off with his bare hands had something to do with it too. As I traveled, I remembered the time Kane Garrett called me a “fairy” in the locker room as we were dressing out for phys ed. Brendan heard him and oh boy! Kane got a lecture right there in the locker room. Brendan didn’t yell at him or nothin’, but he talked about how name-calling like that could do real damage. Kane apologized to me in front of Brendan. What really got to me, though, is that Kane caught up to me after school and apologized again. He was falling all over

himself saying how sorry he was and how he didn’t mean to really hurt me. He said he just didn’t think and even had a gay cousin he thought was cool. Brendan really knew how to get to people. I knocked on the screen-door of the farmhouse and Casper answered. His smile turned to concern when he set eyes on me. I didn’t know him very well, but I liked him. “Is Brendan home? “I’m in the kitchen!” yelled a voice I recognized. I followed Casper into the kitchen, trying to compose myself and not act like a big cry-baby. “Oh, Sean, what’s wrong?” asked Brendan the moment he saw me. The sympathetic tone in his voice was all it took. My shoulders shook with great sobs. Brendan led me to a chair and pulled up another so he was facing me, our knees touching. He hugged me and I cried onto his shoulder. It was a few minutes before my sobs turned into snivels and I was finally able to stop crying. Casper got me a soda and I told them both about Nick; how we’d met, how I’d fallen for him, how happy I was with him and, finally, how he’d dumped me. They didn’t interrupt me, they just listened. “I knew it was coming,” I said. “Nick’s pretty good lookin’ and I’m, well, not. I knew he’d want someone a lot better lookin’ than me sooner or later. I guess I can’t blame him for going after Gil Wadena, you know him.

You know what he looks like. Why is it that the hot boys always get the guys?” “Sean, I’ve had Nick in class. I don’t think he’s as shallow as you make him out to be.” “Well, I saw him kissing Gil! He wants him, all right.” “I’m very sorry that happened, Sean, but I think you’re selling yourself short. You’ve got a lot to offer.” “Yeah, a fat ass and a big belly.” “Sean, you make it sound like you’re a hundred pounds overweight. You’re not. Okay, maybe you could stand to lose a few pounds, but if you take off much more than ten, you’ll be too skinny,” said Brendan. I wanted to say “More like fifty pounds”, but I didn’t. “I’m not good looking. I’ll never be able to keep a boyfriend, even if I manage to find another one.” “I know you believe that right now, Sean, but it’s not true. You’re a good looking young man. Even if you can’t see that, others will. And let’s say you weren’t good looking, that doesn’t mean you couldn’t find someone. There’s a lot more to a relationship than looks.” “Easy for you to say,” I muttered. I didn’t mean to be a jerk, but it probably came out that way. “Why’s that?” asked Brendan

“Man, look at you. You’re hot!” I blushed slightly. “I mean, you’re not fat at all, you’re built, you’re handsome. So are you, Casper. Don’t take this the wrong way, but, it’s no wonder you two went for each other.” “There’s a lot more between us than physical attraction,” said Casper. “There always has been.” “I don’t mean to say you’re shallow or anything, but...” “Just a sec,” said Casper. He went into the other room and I could hear him digging around. He was back a few moments later. He handed me an old photo of some scrawny little kid. He was shirtless and his ribs poked out like he’d been starved or something. He was just skin on bones. “That was me, when I met Brendan.” I jerked my head up to look at Casper, then back down to the photo, and up again. “No Way!” “Way,” said Casper. “That was me when I was a little younger than you.” “Shit! I mean... I’m sorry...” “It’s okay,” laughed Casper. “I wanted to make a point. Look at me in that picture. I look like a skeleton with skin on it. You can’t call me attractive in that photo, but Brendan fell for me anyway.” “I sure did,” said Brendan, grinning at Casper.

“We’ll you were cute, even if you... Well, you know.” “Not exactly the kind of boy most guys dream about,” said Casper. I sighed. I knew what he was getting at, but that still wouldn’t bring Nick back, even if I wanted him back. I couldn’t get the image of him making out with Gil out of my head. That bastard. We sat and talked for a long time. I poured out my feelings. The one thing I didn’t tell them was how I’d thought of doing away with myself. Talking with Brendan and Casper got that out of my head fast, anyway. I knew it was a stupid idea to begin with. I kinda wonder, though, if I hadn’t gone to see them, if maybe... Well, I did go to see them, so I guess there’s no reason to dwell on it. My heart was still heavy when I left a few hours later, but at least I had a little ray of hope. One thing Brendan said helped a lot. He said I’d hurt now, there was no avoiding it, but little by little the pain would ease. After a while, I’d be okay again. Talking helped. I even managed a slight smile when I left.

Avery I tossed and turned in my sleep. I had nightmares again about my parents. I didn’t let myself think of them much when I was awake, so they invaded my dreams. It had happened before. I didn’t like remembering my parents, because it hurt. For awhile, I wouldn’t even admit to myself that they were dead. That didn’t help me feel any better and I knew I just couldn’t keep on pretending. Still, it was something I had trouble dealing with, something I needed to talk about... but there was no one. My parents were the very ones that would’ve helped me deal with what had happened, but they were gone now. I was alone. I hated that little fag, Ryan. It was his fault my parents were dead. If it hadn’t been for him, I could’ve gone back. I was angry, but I’d have gone back. Then I’d have had those days with my parents. My parents wouldn’t even have died, because things would’ve been different. That little fag had killed my parents as surely as if he’d shot them. I wished that I had killed him. He fucking deserved it! He’d caused me more pain than anyone in my life. My dreams shifted away from my parents. Will Graymoor entered instead. I wasn’t even really sure if I was dreaming about him, or me. I felt a certain kinship with him because he’d lost his parents too. Somehow sharing that with him made it easier. There were a lot of

similarities between us. We’d each been sent to live in the very same big old house, only he was here a hundred years and more before. We both had a new “brother” and found ourselves surrounded by unfamiliar things and people. We even seemed to have some of the same interests. I almost felt like I was the one who had won that wrestling competition when I read about it in his journal. I bet Will would’ve been a kick-ass skater if they’d had such a thing in his time. I found myself wishing he was living in Graymoor now, like Sean. I had grown to like Sean a lot, but Will was definitely more cool I got up the next morning, and Sean and I continued our search for parts of Will’s journal. I was excited. I felt like I was reading a book I loved, but instead of it all being right there for me, I had to go and track it down bit by bit. It was like a good book and a scavenger hunt all mixed in together, giving us daily installments of a real-life soap opera. Sean had to leave for his work on the farm before we found anything. He wasn’t around as much as he had been when I first arrived. I didn’t mind. I was growing accustomed to my surroundings and was able to venture out into town when I tired of looking for parts of the journal. Sean hadn’t been gone for ten minutes when I found another part of Will’s journal. I pulled an old vase down from a high shelf, and there it was, curled up inside like some kind of secret treasure map. I took it out and noticed immediately that the date was nearly a

year later than all the other sections of the journal we’d found so far. I read it on the spot. April 11, 1871 I had a bad day today. It was one year ago today when my parents died. I miss them so very much that I simply cannot stand it. My mother was so beautiful and kind, and my father so strong and loving. It did not matter that we had no money; “Rich or poor, we are all still God’s children,” as my Mother reminded us. It was a shock to lose them so suddenly, and so closely together. Mother came down with the fever and soon Father had it too. Just a few days later they were dead — Mom died in the morning and Dad that night. I lost both my parents in one day. For the longest time, I could not even think of them without crying and feeling so lonely I wanted to die too. I felt overcome with melancholy. It was weeks before I would even allow myself to think of them, and even longer before I’d speak of them even to Ed. But I just couldn’t. I feel that keeping all that inside me was a mistake, however. Holding it deep inside me didn’t make it hurt less; it made it hurt more. Ed talked with me a long time today. He says my parents are in heaven and I’ll get to see them again. I think he is right, but it seems a very long time to wait. I’m sixteen now and I could live to be fifty! What if I do? That’s thirty-four more years of waiting. It’s practically forever.

I’m so very glad Ed is here with me. He’s everything to me. Sometimes, I think I care too much. There are times when I look at him... Ed is very tall and handsome — no, that’s not quite right. He’s beautiful really. I know I should not be saying such things, but I feel I must. I put down the page, put my head in my hands, and cried. I’m not sure if I was crying for myself, or Will, or both of us. We were so much alike. I felt the same things he did. His words rang so true, I almost felt as if he were speaking directly to me. He’d lost his parents in a single day, just like me. I cried some more, and it was for Will this time. I felt so very bad for him. I, of all people, knew what it was like to be suddenly orphaned. I wished that I could speak to Will, and let him know I understood. Will mentioned how he wouldn’t let himself even think about his parents. I’d done that too. I think maybe he was right, that keeping it inside only made it worse. Well, I didn’t think it, I knew. Only recently had I let myself remember my parents. If I could truly wipe them from my memory, then maybe I’d do it, but that just wasn’t possible. How I could I hide something from myself like that? As much as I might want to, I couldn’t, because in my own mind, Mom and Dad were still alive. I didn’t really want to forget them either. They were my parents. Things had been rough between us at times, but they were still my parents, and I was still their son.

I was glad no one was there to see me cry. I didn’t want anyone seeing that. I liked to be thought of as tough. I think maybe I could have cried in front of Will, because he would’ve understood. He was tough, but I bet he’d cried sometimes remembering his parents. I guess it didn’t matter if I’d cry in front of Will or not, because he was as dead as my own parents. Sometimes it was hard to remember that. When I’d sat there a long time, my thoughts drifted back to the journal. I wondered what the last paragraph meant. Maybe it just meant that Will thought Edward was someone who understood, just like I thought of Will. Something about it made me slightly uncomfortable, but I just let the feeling pass. I needed to get out and stretch my legs. It was summer and I didn’t want to stay indoors all the time. Sean was no doubt out getting a tan while working. I didn’t want him to start looking better than me. I nearly laughed out loud. Sean wasn’t ugly, but even with the best tan in the world, he wouldn’t look better than me. Still, there was no reason to give him an advantage. I went upstairs and got a bottle of sun-screen. I put it in the pocket of my shorts, then headed for the park. Fifteen minutes later, I was there. One advantage of living in a little hick town was that it didn’t take long to get anywhere, even on foot. I stopped at the edge of the park, leaned against a chain-link fence, and watched some boys who were skating on the sidewalk. They were making some pretty nice moves. Shit. I cursed myself for leaving my skateboard behind. I seemed

destined to come to the park lacking what I really needed. The day before I’d come without any sunscreen. Today I was without a board. “Hey, wanna try it?” yelled one of the boys. I guess I was watching more intently than I’d thought. “Yeah,” I said, nonchalantly. The boy handed me his skateboard and stepped back. I took off down the sidewalk, built up a little speed, then hopped the board up onto the ledge and rode it there before jumping it back off. I spun once in the air and came skating back. “Awesome!” said the boy who had loaned me his board. “Well, I’m not exactly Tony Hawk,” I said, laughing, “but I do OK.” It’s too bad there wasn’t a proper skating area, or I’d have really shown him something. I was excellent on a board and on bikes. I’d once competed in a flatland competition and made it to third. I jumped off the board, flipped it up in the air, and caught it in one single motion. “I’ve seen you with Sean,” said the boy. “Oh, yeah? He’s my cousin. I’m living with his family now.” “Cool, I’m Matt.” “Avery,” I said, handing the board back to him. “Hey, I’m all sweaty. I’m about to burn up. You wanna go swimming?” asked Matt.

“Uh, sure, but I don’t see any water.” “We can go out to Koontz Lake. There’s a beach there and a place to skate that’s a lot better than this.” “Sounds cool. Can I go back and get my swimsuit?” “Sure, I’ll drive you. I just got my license.” It was great to make a friend so fast. We’d only been together about five minutes and we were really hitting it off. Matt led me to a sweet little car with a sunroof. It had a bitchin’ sound-system and everything. He drove me back to Graymoor, which took all of a minute. “You wanna come in?” I asked. He glanced over my shoulder and shook his head. “No, that’s okay. I’ll just wait for you out here.” I had the feeling Matt was a little frightened of Graymoor. I didn’t blame him. I ran inside and changed into my cutoffs. I also grabbed up a towel, along with my own skateboard and pads. I was back in Matt’s car within five minutes. It didn’t take very long at all to drive out to Koontz Lake. Matt was right. It had a way better place to skate than the park. There was a tremendously long sidewalk that was extra wide and some of it even went uphill. The water looked cool and inviting, but skating was even more appealing. Matt and I pulled on our pads and took off down the sidewalk. Matt said all the skaters hung out there, but there were only a couple of other dudes there at the moment. I didn’t mind. It gave me and Matt more room to do our stuff. Matt was actually

pretty slick on wheels, but I was better. Still, he knew what he was doing and we had a blast. We spent a solid hour ripping up and down the concrete, and it was the most fun I’d had since I arrived in Verona. “Dude, I’m about to roast,” said Matt, wiping his brow. I knew what he meant. My shirt was sweat-soaked and I thought I had a pretty good idea of what it felt like to be a turkey roasting in an oven. Matt and I skated back to his car. We pulled off our shoes, socks, and shirts, and left them with our boards. The water of the small lake was sparkling in the sun and I couldn’t wait to get in. Matt and I walked over a sandy beach, then waded out into the lake. The water sure felt good. It was warm, but felt cool compared to the hot air. Matt and I swam out for quite a distance, then tread water while we talked about skating. Matt was the first really cool guy I’d met in Verona. I really enjoyed spending time with him. It didn’t hurt matters that he was impressed with the way I could skate and asked me a lotta questions about what I’d done in the past. When we grew tired of treading water, we swam back in and stood about waist high in the lake. The sun’s heat was beating down on us, and I squished my feet in the cool mud on the lake floor. Every once in awhile we’d submerge ourselves under the water to cool off. The beach was a shit-load more fun than that dark old mansion I was usually stuck in.

There were some hot babes on the beach. I loved the swimsuits they wore, especially those that almost weren’t there. I noticed Matt checking out girls as we were talking. He was definitely no queer. I saw the way his eyes almost involuntarily followed the females walking on the beach. He also kept stealing glances of one especially hot blonde girl that was wearing a very skimpy, bright yellow swimsuit. She was nicely tanned and had a sweet body. Just looking at her made me breathe a little harder. Matt and I were both watching her. When we turned back to each other we both chuckled and wiggled our eyebrows conspiratorially. I lowered myself in the water until it was up to my chin. It felt wonderful. I was having a great day at last. I was thoroughly enjoying myself when I glanced at the shore and noticed the boy from the day before — the little fairy that was eyeing all the boys. I frowned when I looked at him. Matt noticed. “What’s wrong?” “That jerk over there. I don’t like him.” “You mean Shane?” he said, indicating the boy I was looking at. I shuddered. “Ewww, he’s even got a fairy name,” I said. “What?” “He’s a little faggot, dude! Just look at him ogling all the boys. He was checkin’ me out yesterday, even followed me around. I told him if he even looked at me again I’d beat the fuckin’ shit out of him.”

“Uh, okay,” said Matt. I stared at him. “What? Don’t fags give you the creeps? Especially when they’re checkin’ you out? I hate that shit!” “I kinda thought you’d be a little more understanding,” said Matt. I got the feeling he didn’t approve of my attitude toward faggots. “Why?” He looked around and lowered his voice. “I mean, y’know... with your cousin being gay and all. Don’t you think Sean’s cool? I do.” I was momentarily stunned. “What? Are you trying to tell me that Sean is a fag?” “No, dude! I’m trying to tell you he’s gay. I thought you knew. Everyone knows.” I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. “That’s a fuckin’ lie! Sean is not queer!” “Well, his boyfriend sure seems to think so,” said Matt, trying not to laugh. “What’s the big deal anyway? So what if he’s gay?” I knew Matt had to be lying, but I didn’t like his attitude toward fags at all. He was...accepting. How could anybody not be grossed out by that perverted shit? “So what?” I sputtered. “Fuck, dude — fags are fags! How can you say somethin’ like that?” “How can you say what you’re saying?” countered Matt, as if I was in the wrong.

I shook my head. “I thought you were cool dude, but you’re a faggot-lover. Fuck you. I’m outta here.” I waded quickly to the shore and then realized that Matt had driven me. I suddenly felt stupid and foolish. Matt came up behind me. “Listen, dude, I like you, but you need a major attitude adjustment. I don’t like hearing anyone call gays ‘fags’.” I just glared at him. We both dressed. “Come on, I’ll take you home.” Matt seemed pretty put out with me, but I was totally pissed-off with him. I didn’t say anything, because I was afraid I’d find myself walking home. Faggots and faggot lovers... was the whole fuckin’ town full of ‘em?

Sean I didn’t know quite what to do as I rolled up to the farm. I wanted nothing to do with Nick, but I still had a job to do, at least I thought I did. I wasn’t so sure Ethan and Nathan would want me around after I’d broken up with Nick. As I walked up to the house, Nick came out and slammed the screen door. He gave me one surly look, then stomped off to the barn, ignoring me. Ethan came out just after him. There was a sympathetic look in his eyes as he gazed at me. “We need to have a chat, Sean.” I nodded. Ethan led me to the front porch and we had a seat. “Listen, Sean. I'm sorry that you and Nick aren't getting along at the moment. Both Nathan and I want you to know you're still welcome to work on the farm. I think you probably know that you’re like a son to us, too. I hope you and Nick can eventually work things out. Even if you can't, you’re still welcome here, and not just to work. You mean a lot to us, and we don’t want you avoiding the farm because you and Nick are having problems.” “Thanks,” I said. I almost felt like crying. I’d almost thought that maybe I’d lost Ethan and Nathan, too. “I really doubt that we can work things out, however.”

“Well, that’s between you and Nick and I won’t pry. I hope you’ll at least try to be civil to each other." I nodded my head. We stood and I hugged Ethan around the middle. He squeezed me and mussed my hair. *** Two hours later I found myself in the barn, stacking feed sacks with Nick. It was hot outside, but the atmosphere in the barn was icy. Neither of us said a word. We barely acknowledged each other’s existence. Now and then one of us gave the other a glare, but that was it. I couldn’t trust myself to speak. I’d either start bawling or yelling, or maybe both. I felt a compulsion to punch Nick on the nose. I could never forgive him for taking away from me what I valued most — him. We could have had a wonderful life together, but I wasn’t good enough for him. I guess, maybe, I couldn’t blame him for that. Who’d want to spend their life with a homely guy like me? Tears welled up in my eyes. Nick looked at me for a moment, but didn’t say anything. I turned my back to him. I knew I was gonna lose it and I didn’t want him to see. I bowed my head and started sobbing, as quietly as I could.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, but I jerked away. I didn’t want him touching me. I walked out of the barn without looking back. I grabbed a watering can from the shed and began tending the tomato plants at the far end of the garden. I remembered the last time I’d done that — with Nick. So much had changed in such a short time, and for the worst. I felt so isolated and alone. No one in the whole world loved me. Nick had loved me once, but that was gone. When he stopped loving me, he took everything with him. Nick came out of the barn and started hoeing around the green beans near the shed. He kept looking over at me, but I pretended I didn’t notice. He even paused for a while and just gazed at me, like he wanted to say something. I didn’t want to talk to him. I was far enough away that I could just walk away from him if he tried to approach. I didn’t want him near me. I turned my back on Nick completely and went about my business. The minutes passed and my heart ached. I was angry with myself. Why did I still love him? He’d cheated on me, dumped me for another guy, and still I was hurting because I loved him. You couldn’t get much more stupid than that. I gazed up from the large tomato plant I was watering. There he was — Gil Wadena, Nick’s new boyfriend. I felt like I was going to be sick. I didn’t want to see them together. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Nick approached his ebony muscle-stud.

Gil was shirtless. His chiseled chest gleamed in the sun. He looked ripped even from a distance. I put down my can and started to walk away. I was not going to hang around while those two got it on in the garden. I jerked to a halt at the sound of angry words. I snapped my head around just in time to see Nick push Gil away. Gil stepped back toward Nick and put his hand on his shoulder, but Nick brushed it off. “Get off!” yelled Nick. Gil grab Nick in a bear-hug and tried to kiss him. Nick wasn’t having any of it. He was struggling to push him off, but Gil was a lot stronger. What was going on? This didn’t make any sense at all. “I said Get off me!” yelled Nick. I was bewildered, but Nick was in trouble. I ran towards him and Gil. Nick was beating his fists on Gil’s chest, but it had little effect. Gil was attempting to kiss Nick, but Nick was twisting his head this way and that to stop him. I didn’t understand. I stood there in confusion. Right as I made up my mind to pounce on Gil, he fell to the ground, moaning. Nick had shoved his knee right into Gil’s nuts. “Stay away from me!” yelled Nick, his voice shaking. Gil looked up at Nick, and at me standing beside him. “Come on, man. I was just havin’ a little fun. Why’d you have to go and kick me in the nads? Fuck, it hurts!” “Listen,” said Nick, “I told you before, I’m not interested. If you wanna be friends, then okay, but not if

you’re gonna pull this shit. It’s sexual harassment, you know? I could press charges.” What? I thought. This was all wrong. These two had been screwing each other behind my back, but... Gil painfully got to his feet. Nick took a step back. “No, dude, please. I’m really not like this, man. I swear. It’s just... I know you’re a fag and all and...” “Excuse me?” said Nick. “Well, come on... everyone knows you’re queer. I mean, I’m not knocking you guys, but you’re queers, aren’t ya?” “We’re gay,” said Nick. “Anyway, what does that have to do with forcing yourself on me.” “Come on, man. You know you want me. I’ve seen you lookin’ I’ve seen him lookin’ too,” he said, nodding at me. “And, so...” “So, come on...” Gil stepped forward and I stepped in between him and Nick. I wasn’t going to let him get near the boy I loved. “And what are you doing?” said Gil, glaring at me. “He told you he wasn’t interested.” Gil rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right! I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you dudes blow me and I won’t tell anyone.”

“You’re unbelievable!” said Nick. “Gil, I told you I have a boyfriend. I told you it’d be cool to hang with you, but that nothin’ could happen between us.” My head was spinning. Had Nick really said what I thought he did? It didn’t make any sense. “I know. I know. Fuck, dude. I’m not a fag or nothin’. I have a girlfriend, you know. I just wanted to mess around and experiment a little. It don’t mean nothin’. So what do you dudes say?” “I say Get the fuck off my farm!— yelled Nick. “You’ll be sorry you passed up your chance,” said Gil, groping the front of his jeans. “I know how bad you guys want this.” “Yeah, we’re really begging for it, aren’t we,” said Nick. “You know, I could make things rough on ya. I could...” “And I could tell your girl you came onto me. I could tell your buddies...” “Whoa! Whoa! Let’s not get out of control.” Gil was acting tough, but I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. He didn’t want anyone knowing he’d put the moves on Nick. He was a JCC, jock closet case. “Get the fuck out of here,” said Nick. “You give me, or Sean, or anyone like us any shit and I’ll tell the whole school about you.” Gil turned kind of pale and retreated.

“Dude, okay, I’m leavin’ I won’t bug ya, ‘kay? Just calm down.” Gil beat it out of there fast. I was sure there would be no further trouble from him. I just stood there, totally confused. I blinked back tears in the bright sunlight. I felt... “Sean? Sean, what’s wrong?” The garden spun around me and I went limp in Nick’s arms. I would have hit the ground had he not held me up. Nick guided me to a sitting position. “Sean? Come on, answer me!” Nick’s voice cracked. He was shaking and tears welled up in his eyes. I pressed my hand to my head. “I’m okay. I’m just...dizzy. Everything was goin’ black, but I’m okay now.” I still felt kinda disoriented and woozy. I felt like I didn’t know where I was. I sure as hell didn’t know what was going on. “When was the last time you ate something?” “I had a glass of water this morning.” “Sean, you’ve got to stop starving yourself!” “I’m not. I had half an apple for supper last night.” “That’s not enough, Sean. You don’t eat anything. You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself.” “You don’t want me because I’m fat!” I practically screamed. That was it. I started bawling. Nick grabbed

me in his arms and hugged me, tears flowing from his eyes. “Sean, I do want you. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?” “What about Gil?” “What about him?” “I saw you kiss him.” “No. You didn’t. That’s what I tried to explain. You saw him kiss me. I didn’t want it.” “But...” “Sean, do you really think there’s something between me and Gil, after what you just saw?” “Well, I...” “We’re friends, Sean, that’s all. I mean, we were friends.” What he was saying made sense, but it was still hard for me to believe. Maybe I was afraid to believe. “Listen,” said Nick, exasperated. “It’s you I love, you Sean, get it?” “But I’m fat, I’m ugly...” “Sean, we’ve been through this. I love you just as you are. You’re beautiful to me. If you want to slim down for yourself, then okay, but don’t do it for me because it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care how much weight you lose, I’m not going to love you one bit more, ‘cause I can’t. I already love you so much it isn’t possible to love you more! And if you’re gonna do it,

use some common sense. If you keep this up, you're going to kill yourself.” “I’m okay.” “No, you aren’t. You’re not okay if you pass out. I don’t know if you’re anorexic or what, but you’ve obviously got a problem.” “I’ve just been so scared. I thought you left me for Gil. I guess maybe I even thought I could get you back if I looked like him. I love you so much!” “Sean, let me say this one more time.” Nick took my head in his hands and made me look him in the eyes. “I love you. I don’t love Gil. I don’t love anyone, but you. I love you just as you are. I love you and I’m never going to leave you, not for anyone. Gil can get on his knees and beg me if he wants, but he doesn’t have a turkey’s chance at Thanksgiving, because I love you. Get it?” I burst into tears and rested my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! You must hate me for what I thought about you, for what I said. I’m so sorry!” “Shhhh Shhhh,” whispered Nick, hugging me tight. “It’s okay, Sean. It’s okay.” “I just love you so much! I’ve been so afraid you’d leave me! Then, when I saw you with him!” I bawled my eyes out. All the pain I’d kept inside came pouring out. “It’s okay, baby. I understand. I love you. Everything’s gonna be all right.”

We hugged each other as if our lives depended on it. I felt so wonderful, and so foolish. I’d been stupid and wrong. Nick did love me, with all his heart. I smiled through my tears and kissed him. One Day Later... It became so unbearably hot that Ethan called a halt to the day’s work. That was rare, but once the thermometer hit 106, he said he didn’t want to take the chance of any of us getting a heat stroke. Even he and Nathan came in from their work on the drainage ditch. We were all sweaty and smelly, so we took turns taking showers. Ethan and Nathan were done so quickly that I suspected they took their shower together. I’d have liked to do that with Nick, but Nick and I tried to keep things calmed down around his parents. Nick was adopted, but that didn’t make any difference. Ethan, Nathan, and Nick were just like a traditional family. If there was a difference, I’d say there was a lot more communication between them, and a lot more love. I bet if all families could’ve been like theirs, there’d be a lot fewer problems in the world. Ethan and Nathan knew that Nick and I were dating, but that didn’t mean we were free to do anything we wanted. They were gay just like us, but they were no more eager for their son to have sex and stuff than any other parents. Ethan had talked to Nick about safe sex and all that, but he also told him it wasn’t anything he should be in a hurry to experience, the time would

come. I suspect that Ethan was conflicted. On the one hand, his relationship with Nathan had begun when he was our age. On the other, he had paternal feelings for Nick that made him want to protect him. I don’t think any parent likes to think about their child having sex. For one thing, they don’t want them to get hurt; for another, it means their kids aren’t exactly children anymore. Even though I took my shower alone, thoughts of Nick filled my head. Damn, he was gorgeous. The mere sight of him — the mere thought of him — totally turned me on. I smiled. Every time I thought of having Nick as my boyfriend, I got this warm feeling inside. I was so happy that it almost didn’t seem possible to feel that way. I almost wished I could freeze time and feel that way forever. A realization dawned on me. Nick said I was beautiful. I’d never been able to understand that. There was no way in hell I was beautiful. I was just thinking, though, that if Nick was fat or ugly or something, it wouldn’t matter. He’d still be good looking to me, because I loved him. I mean, really, the way I felt about Nick, his looks didn’t matter, not at all. I was in love with him, with his spirit or whatever you call it. I wasn’t in love with his body. For the first time ever, I understood. I grinned. Wow. He really did think I was hot! It made me feel so good about myself. I looked the same as always, but I felt all different inside. It was a wonderful feeling.

I rinsed off and came out of the bathroom in a towel. Nick passed me going in and stopped to pull me to him. He kissed me and pressed up against me. Our hands began to wander, but we didn’t take things far. It was way too risky with Ethan and Nathan in the house. Nick gave me a wicked smile, then went in for his own shower. I sighed. How I wished I could join him... After cleaning up, we all went out and sat on the porch. I was getting more than a little aroused sitting there surrounded by hot, shirtless guys. Of course, I was already worked up. It was a gay boy’s dream come true. It was all I could do to keep from making out with Nick right there on the porch swing, but kept my desires in check. We’d kissed in front of his parents before, but we both felt a little uncomfortable about it. Nathan made some lemonade and it was sure good. He brought out a big plate of oatmeal cookies too. We all sat and talked and sipped our drinks, and I made eyes at Nick. I was having some very intense thoughts about him and it wasn’t helping to cool me down. “Have a cookie, Sean,” said Nick. “Nah, I shouldn’t...” “I said HAVE one!” I grabbed a cookie and stuffed it into my mouth. I was almost afraid not to eat it. I started laughing with my mouth full. Nick was going to make sure I got enough to eat one way or another. He didn’t have to worry. Old habits died hard, but I wasn’t going to starve myself anymore. I was just going to try to eat

moderately. I reached out and picked up another cookie. Nick grinned. “Hey, Nick,” I said casually. “Since it’s too hot to work, you wanna come home with me, maybe even sleep over?” I looked at his dads. “If it’s okay with you, of course.” Ethan looked at me appraisingly, but smiled. Nathan seemed a little concerned, but I could see him mentally forcing himself to let it go. He was no doubt reminding himself of when he and Ethan were my age. Of course, that memory was likely what made him concerned. Still, he knew he couldn’t keep Nick locked up in his room forever. “Can I?” asked Nick. “If it’s okay with Sean’s parents,” said Nathan. “Oh, I’m sure it will be, but I’ll ask,” I said. Nick and I went inside. I called and talked to Mom about Nick staying over. It was cool with her. Nick and I then went to his bedroom. I sat quietly on the bed while he packed a few things, but as soon as he was finished, I grabbed him and pulled him down on the bed with me. I kissed him and rubbed up against him. “Sean, you’d better stop,” he warned in a low voice. “Why?” He grinned. “Because if you don’t, I’m not gonna be able to walk back out to the porch.” Nick stood up and showed me the proof, the denim fabric of his jeans straining outward. He laughed, then

closed his eyes and wrinkled his forehead for a moment. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Thinking non-sexy thoughts so I won’t look like the human tripod when I walk back outside.” I giggled and took a step toward him. “You stay back,” he warned, “or I’ll never be able to calm down!” I laughed out loud at that, but I kept my distance. I needed to pour some ice-cold water on myself. Nick wasn’t the only one with a bulge in his jeans. We were back on the porch just a few minutes later. “Mom says it’s okay,” I said to Nick’s parents as soon as I stepped out of the house. “I’ll give you boys a ride,” said Ethan. “It’s too hot to walk and I need to pick up a few things in town anyway.” “Get some milk and eggs,” called Nathan. “Oh, some chocolate chips too. And better add some brown sugar.” Ethan smiled at him, then lifted my bike into the back of the truck without effort. In moments, we were on our way. The windows were down and the air rushing through the cab sure felt good, cooling the sweat on my naked skin. I was sitting in the middle, pressed in between Nick and Ethan, and it was driving me crazy. I wadded up my shirt and put it in my lap. I was so aroused sitting there that it was obvious. Nick had

already noticed. He grinned at me and looked like he was ready to bust out laughing. Ethan’s arm felt like warm steel as it pressed against me. I glanced at the light hairs covering his forearm, and stared at the veins bulging in his bicep. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have muscles like that. Nick pressed up against me on the other side, and his slim, sexy body made me want to grab him and kiss him right then and there. My heart pounded in my chest, and I licked my lips in anticipation. I knew I was gonna have to jump on him the first chance I got. Ten minutes later, Ethan pulled up to the house and lifted my bike out of the truck. We waved goodbye as his truck disappeared, then walked inside. Nick and I dropped by the kitchen to grab some cookies. Mom always made the best cookies around and there was always a jar of them on the table. “Are you happy now? I’m eating cookies here, and at your house,” I said. “I’m happy.” Mom was there and gave Nick a big hug when she saw him. She loved Nick. I knew I was very lucky; not many gay boys could expect their mothers to like their boyfriends so well. Mom and I didn’t talk much about relationships, but I know she was happy that Nick was my boyfriend. I don’t think she had any idea of how her acceptance helped me. It made what could have been a bad situation wonderful.

Nick and I went to my bedroom and closed the door. If I had any doubts that the same thing was on both our minds, it was erased when he pulled me to him and kissed me passionately. We held each other close as we kissed. I always felt so safe and loved when I was in his arms. It was the most wonderful feeling in all the world. “I want you so bad,” I whispered, my voice quivering with desire. He gave me a wicked grin, then kissed me again, deeply. Our shirts were already off because of the heat. That was one great thing about hot weather — I didn’t have to worry about what my parents might think if they barged in and found us shirtless. I loved the feel of Nick’s bare chest against my own. I grabbed a small paper bag from my dresser drawer, took Nick by the hand, and pulled him out of my room. “Where are you taking me?” asked Nick, in an innocent voice. “I’m taking you where no one can hear you moan,” I told him, as we trotted down the hallway. I was a bit surprised at my own boldness, but then again I was much bolder when I was aroused. And I didn’t think I could get more turned on than I was at that moment. I led Nick up to the attic and locked the door behind us. I’d been up there a couple of days before and had pulled out an old mattress and set it on the floor. I’d brought up sheets and pillows and even some candles. I wanted everything to be just right. This was it. Nick and I were going all the way.

Nick smiled when he saw what I had done. I lit the candles, then gently pressed my lips against Nick’s and kissed him. We kicked off our shoes, pulled off our socks, then sank down on the mattress, kissing and feeling. We let our hands wander freely. We lay there like that for the longest time. It was maddening in a way, turning up my desire to a fever pitch. Even that was pleasurable, however... an exquisite torment. I loved being with Nick. I loved holding him, kissing him, and feeling him. Often, that was all we did, and it was still wonderful. But this time, we were gonna go farther than we’d ever gone before. Nick climbed on top of me and lay full length upon me, gazing into my eyes. He pressed himself against me and I moaned. He was driving me crazy. I reached up and unfastened his belt, then slid his jeans off his legs and tossed them beside the mattress. I slipped my hands under his boxers and worked my way down onto his cute little butt, caressing his naked skin. I kissed him again, then pushed his boxers down. I was still wearing my jeans and boxers, but Nick was completely naked. He was beautiful. Wordlessly, Nick sat up and slowly undressed me. I watched him as he pulled my jeans down. Every movement he made was almost tortuous, arousing me to a fever pitch. In moments I was naked. I would’ve been embarrassed in front of anyone else, but Nick accepted me just as I was. It didn’t matter to him that I wasn’t perfect. He didn’t care that I didn’t have welldefined abs or the waist size of a model. He liked me

for me. I felt the same way about him. I knew most people wouldn’t think of Nick as cute, but I did. I loved him and to me, he was the cutest boy in the world. Nick lay down beside me. We turned, facing each other, and gazed into one another’s eyes. A bead of sweat trickled down his chest. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I whispered. “You sure you’re ready?” “I’m sure,” he said quietly. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time.” I smiled and brushed the hair out of his eyes. “But are you sure you’re ready?” he asked. “Oh God, yes!” I said, almost shouting. Nick giggled at my obvious eagerness. So did I. “Well, what are you waiting for then?” I sat up and retrieved the bag I’d left by the side of the mattress. I took out a condom and a tube of lube. Nick helped me put on the condom and in a few moments more we were ready. Nick put some pillows underneath him and lay face down on the mattress. I climbed on top of him, already breathing hard. Both of us cried out as I entered him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I asked, breathlessly. “No,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Just give me a bit to get used to it, okay?” I lay there, trying to keep completely still. The moments passed and my mind was spinning.

“Okay, Sean,” he said at last. “I’m ready... but take it slow.” I nodded and pressed in, as slowly as was humanly possible. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Nick. I moaned. I’d never felt anything so wonderful before. “How is it?” I asked, when I was all the way in. “Oh, Sean,” moaned Nick, “it’s incredible.” I began thrusting my hips in and out, while both Nick and I moaned with intense joy. I’d fantasized about this moment a thousand times, but it was beyond anything I’d ever imagined. I was glad I’d waited and hadn’t wasted my first time on just anyone. Nick and I loved each other with all our hearts and it multiplied the pleasure of our lovemaking beyond belief. I wanted our first time to last forever, but before I knew it, my hips were bucking out of control... and it was all over. I rolled off and fell to Nick’s side, and he smiled at me and ran his fingertips over my heaving chest. “What’s wrong?” asked Nick. My face felt hot and I know it was red. “I’m embarrassed,” I said in a low voice. “Why?” I sighed. “Because I didn’t last very long.” “You were wonderful,” said Nick. “Really?” He nodded. “Really. I wouldn’t change a thing. And besides, I’m sure you’ll last much longer next time.”

“Mmmm... next time,” I said, grinning. “Now it’s your turn.” I pulled Nick to me and we kissed, then I lay down on the mattress and nervously waited. An hour later, Nick and I made our way back to my room. We closed the door and kissed yet again. My heart was so full of love for him that I thought it might burst. What had passed between us was more than just sex. I couldn’t explain it. What Nick and I had experienced together was almost spiritual. It made me feel closer to him than ever before. Nick and I sank onto my bed, kissing and holding each other close. I loved the closeness, how his arms felt around me. His bare chest felt so good against my own. I wanted to take him again, right there on my bed. Instead, I slipped my hands inside his jeans and caressed his bare buttocks as Nick lay on top of me and explored my mouth with his tongue. Suddenly, The door burst open with such force, it rebounded against the wall. I couldn’t imagine that either of my parents would burst in like that. They sometimes came in unannounced, but not like they were trying to break down the door. Nick and I didn’t even have time to separate. Nick nervously slid off me, but we were still laying side by side on my bed, our arms and legs entangled. We were shirtless and it was quite obvious we’d been making out. My hand was caught in Nick’s pants and it was a few moments before I could get it out. “You are a fag! Matt was right! Fuck! You’re both fags!”

It wasn’t my parents that had entered my room — it was Avery. Nick and I pulled apart and sat up on the bed. “You’re a fucking fag,” said Avery, pointing at me. “What is this? Some kinda faggot town?” I was growing angrier by the second. “Shut up, Avery! Just who do you think you are? What right do you have to come charging into my room, without even bothering to knock? This is none of your damned business!” He shook his head in disbelief. “I thought you were cool,” he said with more than a touch of sadness in his voice, “but you’re one of them. You make me sick.” I jumped off the bed and clenched my fists. “Why do I make you sick? What have I ever done to you, huh? I’ve been nice to you and tried to make you feel at home. Oh, I’m so evil!” I said sarcastically. Avery ignored my words. He was hell bent on going off on me. “You’re disgusting. I saw what you were doin’, right there on your bed, with... with him!” I took a menacing step forward. “Yeah, my bed, and this happens to be my boyfriend. We can do anything we damn well please. If you don’t want to see it, then don’t come barging into my room, asshole!” “You guys are so gross,” he spat. “I guess I should expect someone as ignorant as you to think love is gross,” I said, sitting back on the bed,

defiantly putting my hand on the back of Nick’s head. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Nick and I love each other.” “That’s just sick.” “If you don’t like it, get out,” I told him. “Faggots,” muttered Avery. He spun on his heel and departed, slamming the door. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard him sobbing as he continued down the hall. Nick hadn’t said anything. I think he was kind of shocked. My anger at Avery dissipated as I looked at Nick. I smiled. “Well, you wanted to meet my cousin,” I said with a sigh. “Charming, isn’t he?” said Nick, and we both laughed. “I was beginning to think he was okay,” I said, shaking my head. “I guess I was wrong.” “It may not be too fun having him in the house now,” said Nick. “Maybe.” I grinned mischievously. “Then again..." “Oh, you are evil,” said Nick, catching on. “Count me in, of course. What are you thinking?” “Nothing too sinister. I just thought we should... you know — hold hands, hang on each other, and make out in front of him whenever possible. He’ll hate it, and we’ll have fun.”

“I like it,” said Nick. “I like it a lot, for many reasons. In fact, I think we should start practicing right now.” He pulled me to him and kissed me again.

Avery I left Sean’s room. I wandered through the halls in a fury. I couldn’t believe he was one of them. He seemed so normal. There was no question about it though. He was right there on his bed, kissing and touching that blond kid. There they were, two half-naked boys making out and feeling each other. I shuddered. Sean even had his hand in that kids shorts! It was disgusting! I had more than half a mind to tell his parents. Yeah, that was it. It would teach him for yelling at me. So what if I’d rushed into his room? If he hadn’t been a fuckin’ faggot, then he wouldn’t have had anything to hide. He deserved to be punished for being a queer. Telling his parents what he was and what he’d been doing was just the ticket. I was angry, and upset. I felt like I didn’t have any friends now. I wasn’t so sure about Matt. He seemed cool, but then he didn’t seem upset that Sean was gay. Was he one of them, too? I sighed. I didn’t think I could tell anymore. I always thought I could tell by looking, but I hadn’t suspected Sean. I don’t think I’d have suspected that blond kid he was doing it with either. Matt probably wasn’t queer. He was checking out that blonde girl at the beach — he was practically drooling over her. He was pretty cool, other than his stupid attitude — like queers could be normal people!

The more I thought about it, the more I decided Matt probably just didn’t know any better. The queers he’d met had probably tricked him into believing they weren’t so bad. Maybe he’d never been checked out by a fag. Maybe he’d never had a another boy leer at him. I’m sure he’d never experienced what I went through. I almost felt like telling him what Dave and Michael had done to me... but there were things I didn’t want to admit, and I was ashamed and embarrassed. I never wanted anyone to know what had happened to me. I shuddered at the memory. I hated Dave for what he’d done to me. I hated Michael and his friends too. I hated Ryan. I hated all of them. I hadn’t left things in a very good state with Matt. He was probably mad at me. Maybe I should’ve thought before saying what I did to him. I bet I could still patch that up, if I wanted to, but I wasn’t sure. I sat down in a chair in a remote sitting room while I thought about it. I felt so alone, like I was different from everyone else. What kind of screwed-up place was this anyway? There were so many faggots around that I felt like an outsider. It wasn’t right. I was the normal one! I liked girls. There wasn’t anything wrong with me, and yet now I was the outsider. I sighed and shook my head. This was just too fucked up. Suddenly, I spied something out of the corner of my eye, across the room. There was a small corner of a piece of paper sticking out from behind a painting. I got up out of the chair, walked across the plush carpeting and carefully pulled it out. Just as I thought: it was

another part of the journal. I smiled. I felt like William Graymoor was the only friend I had in this little freakazoid homo town. I unfolded the paper, sat down again, and read. July 17, 1871 Ed and I did something terribly wicked today. If Mr. Graymoor ever found out we’d get such a thrashing. He doesn’t know, however, so nothing should come of it. It was so hot that most of the house felt like an oven. Ed and I decided on a walk into the forest, to cool ourselves under the trees. It was cooler in there, but still way too hot. I tugged at my shirt and Ed suggested I take it off. I looked around as if someone else might spy us, then nearly laughed at myself for doing so. Mr. Graymoor considered exposing any part of the body, other than the face and hands, to be sinful nudity. I did not agree, but still felt a bit shy as I pulled off my shirt. Oh, it was so much cooler with the breeze on my bare chest! Ed surprised me greatly when he pulled off his shirt too. He had never, in over a year, been in such a state of undress around me. I found my heart beating so hard, I thought surely it would burst! Ed did not have thick muscles like me, but he still looked strong, kind of like one of the Greek statues we’d seen in our books. Ed looked almost embarrassed to be without a shirt, but we kept

walking and talking and he seemed to forget about it for the most part. It was a beautiful day, even if it was too hot. The shade under the great trees seemed all the more inviting because of it. We walked for a good, long time until we came to a wonderful little lake. There was a little log cabin there — abandoned at the moment, but I couldn’t see it sitting empty long. The location was just too beautiful. The waters of the lake looked so cool and inviting. I wanted to just dive in. It almost seemed as if Eddie could read my mind, for he turned to me and asked if I wanted to go swimming. I told him I most certainly wanted to and he began to strip out of his clothes. I stood there shocked as he stripped completely naked right in front of me! I felt my heart beat very fast and my breath start to come faster. I also felt something else happening, but I don’t know if I dare to write it. I think not, as I’ll surely know what happened when I read this again anyway. Ed leaped into the lake in all his naked glory. I awkwardly pulled off my clothes and joined him. I was quick as I could be diving into the lake because I didn’t want Ed to see me naked. Or rather I should say, I didn’t want him to notice something about me that could have been embarrassing. The water did feel refreshing, so wonderful and cool. We stood there with the water up to our

shoulders for the longest time, letting it cool us off. I felt a great freedom standing there in the water naked. I loved the way the water felt against my skin. I loved other things about it as well which I won’t write here. Ed took a dive and I saw the pale skin of his behind as it disappeared beneath the surface. I immediately felt a wave of shame pass over me. Certain thoughts and feelings had been forming in my head over the past months and they were suddenly beginning to become more sharp and clear. I wished that they were not doing so, for I found them disturbing. I won’t even trust to writing them down here as I fear my journal might fall into the wrong hands. Speaking of which, I’ve decided to tear it apart and hide it in safe places as I write it from now on. Hopefully, if a part is found, it will not give away the whole. We swam in the cool waters for a great length of time, then climbed out once more. We could not quickly reenter our clothes as we needed to dry, so we lay naked on the grass. As we did so, I found it hard not to take glances at Edward’s body, and particularly his... maleness. I must admit to an intense curiosity about certain parts of him as I had so far seen only my own. I felt guilt as I looked at his private places, as if it were somewhat shameful or wrong. I’m sure Mr. Graymoor would have disapproved. My mouth suddenly felt very dry, and I felt butterflies in my stomach.

Edward seemed to find certain parts of my body of interest, too. No doubt he also had not seen those parts on any but himself. He had no brothers and all within the household carefully kept themselves covered at all times. We each ignored the other’s glances, pretending not to see them. I felt a certain uneasiness, but also a thrill. It only served to add to the confusion I’ve been feeling. I found the words of William disturbing, but then maybe I was reading things into them because of recent events. Finding out my cousin was a fag had unsettled me. I was beginning to see queers everywhere. Sean freaked me out. To think that someone in my own family was one of those... I guess what Will had written wasn’t so unusual. All boys check out other boys. Hell, even I’d done it. It didn’t mean anything. It was just part of growing up. Will was cool! He wasn’t a queer. He just couldn’t be. He was strong and muscular, a real guy. He was interested in wrestling at least, and I bet he was into other sports too. I wondered what sports they had in the 1870s. Had they invented baseball yet? Will swimming with Edward like that wasn’t so different from me and Matt swimming together. Me and Matt weren’t naked when we went swimming, but even if we had been, it wouldn’t have meant anything. I couldn’t get over how the journal paralleled my own life. I hadn’t had any dreams in which I was Will lately,

at least not that I could remember, but it was kind of weird that I’d found this bit of Will’s journal about swimming just after I’d gone swimming myself. I thought more about what Will had written. No, Will couldn’t be a queer. He just couldn’t. I was glad of that. We were so much alike. I was sure we’d have been good friends if we had lived in the same time. I wished that I could talk to him about losing his parents, just like I’d lost mine. I bet talking about it could have helped us both. I really liked Will. I wanted to help him. I found myself wishing there was a way to reach him across time. I got up and went searching through the house some more. I just kind of wandered around and looked in what I hoped would be likely places. I put myself in his place: where would I hide something in this house, if I wanted to make sure nobody would find it? I knew I’d never find all of Will’s journal, but I wanted to discover what I could of it. Finding a piece of his journal was like getting a letter from a friend. I needed a friend just then. I felt so alone. I felt like I was the only straight boy in a homosexual world. In only a few minutes, I managed to find another bit of the journal. Sometimes it happened fast like that, especially when I felt a compulsion to look in a certain place — almost like someone was telling me where to look. That was absurd, but I was glad to find more of the journal so quickly. There were times when I looked for hours with no luck at all. I discovered two separate

entries with different dates this time. I sat down immediately to read what I’d found. July 24, 1871 I dreamed of Eddie again last night. I have long suspected something was wrong with me, but I’m becoming more certain by the day. Ever since we went swimming and I saw him naked... I don’t understand the thoughts going through my head! I dream of unspeakable things and find pleasure in them. I try not to think such things in my waking hours, but even then my own body betrays me. Why do such thoughts create such physical pleasure for me? Why does my body embrace what my mind rejects? It is the worst at night. I have great trouble falling asleep. I keep wanting to touch myself in a place I’m told is sinful. I try to lay on my stomach to avoid the temptation, but it is not physically possible. I toss and turn and there is no escape until I fall asleep. When asleep, I begin to dream, and the things that enter my head then... Eddie would hate me if he knew. I need to talk about it, but how can I speak of such a thing to him? I have only my journal. I do so wish it could talk back. I found the words I read distasteful. Was Will actually saying what I thought? Was he getting turned on by Edward? Such an attraction for another boy was

so gross. I felt sympathy rising in my chest for Will. It’s not an emotion I ever thought I’d feel for a queer boy, but maybe Will wasn’t queer. He’d written himself that he was confused. I did feel for him. He had a problem and no one to help him. Sometimes I felt like that too. I understood how he needed to talk to someone. I needed someone like that too, but there was no one. I felt for Will. He was so lonely. I wished I could be there for him. I read the next section of what I’d found. It was written several days after the part I’d just read. August 4, 1871 I fear being near Ed. The very sight of him makes me feel like I’m burning with fever. I feel so good when I look at him, yet I’m so ashamed of the reason for it. I fear I will burn in the deepest pits of hell for the things I’ve been thinking, and even worse, doing. A few sleepless nights passed, and I could stand it no longer. I felt compelled to touch my most private of areas. The physical pleasure I felt was beyond any I’ve ever experienced. The pleasure soon became so exquisite that it was nearly painful. I felt this wonderful, overpowering feeling of pure joy burst through my body, from head to toe, and I cried out loud. After the rapture had passed, I cried to myself. I could feel a wetness, down there. I knew I had not

relieved myself and feared I was bleeding. When I checked, however, there was no red blood, only a thick milky liquid that had the scent of raw mushrooms. Had I injured myself? There seemed to be no evidence of that, other than the milky liquid. I needed to ask someone — a doctor perhaps — but I was afraid. I determined that I would never repeat what I had done, but it was only the next day when I once more found myself unable to keep from doing it yet again. The temptation was just too great. It took longer to achieve the same bliss and it was not as intense as the first time, but I was a slave to the feeling no less. The milky white fluid came again, and I am beginning to think that maybe it was supposed to and that I have not harmed myself after all. I prayed to God to help me control myself, but either my prayer was not answered, or I was too weak. I piled sin upon sin by promising God never to touch myself like that again, but I could not keep my promise, even to him. Could such bliss be from Heaven itself, or was it sent by Satan to tempt us? I fear I might never know the answer. Was he or wasn’t he? I just wasn’t sure. Unfortunately, the journal said no more. I decided to believe that Will was not queer. Despite what he’d written, he just couldn’t be. Even I had felt attractions to other boys. I didn’t like to admit that even to myself,

but it was true. Was it so bad? Wasn’t it something that all boys went through? Wasn’t it just a phase after all? I would never touch another boy as Sean had done. No, wait — I had with Michael, but I was forced into that by near starvation. I’d never do it willingly, and I was sure Will wouldn’t either. Will seemed very naïve, I almost had to laugh. It seemed impossible to believe he was so innocent about jerking off. He didn’t know about masturbation? I was his age and I’d known about it for at least three years. I shook my head. I guess maybe things went a lot slower back in the nineteenth century. Boys back then just didn’t know as much. I felt for Will. I understood his struggle. There was a time when I thought spankin’ the monkey was a bad thing too. I’d tried to stop, but couldn’t. It had made me feel weak. They taught us in health class that that there was nothing wrong with it, and that I was fighting against nature. Until I learned that, however, I’d had a difficult time dealing with it. I wished I could write in a journal and tell Will it was okay, but there was no way to send a message back in time. I could find what he had written, but it couldn’t work in the opposite direction. It was a pity. I could’ve helped Will so much. *** I was still thinking of Will as I lay in bed that night. Why did we have to live a hundred years apart? I felt

like I’d been cheated out of a friend. It was almost like we were supposed to be friends, but somehow things had gotten all screwed-up. I guess that was just plain crazy, but I still felt that way. I heard a sound, and my thoughts slammed to a halt. I sat up in my bed. I could have sworn I’d heard someone calling my name. I stiffened. There it was again! I jumped up and dashed across the floor in the darkness. If Sean was tryin’ to spook me, I’d kick his little faggot ass! I threw open the door, but there was no one there. I crept down the hall to Sean’s room and noiselessly opened the door. Disgusting. He was in bed with that boy! Their arms were wrapped around each other. The sight of it made me want to puke, but they were clearly asleep. Neither of them had been calling my name at my door. I closed the door quietly and crept back down the hall. Suddenly, the hair stood up on the back of my neck. If it wasn’t Sean fooling around, then who had been calling my name? The second time, I’d heard it clearly. It was a boy’s voice. I was certain of that. It couldn’t have been Sean’s parents, so that left... no one. Maybe I’d dreamed it after all. I must have. There was no other explanation. When I got back to my room, the door was closed. I was sure I’d left it open. I slowly turned the handle and peaked inside, but no one was there. Maybe I had closed it after all. I walked to my bed and looked down. I just stared.

My bed was made! The sheets and blankets were neatly spread out and my pillow was carefully placed in the center near the headboard. I might have closed my door when I thought I’d left it open, but I sure as hell didn’t make my bed when I got up. I was in much too big a hurry. I turned on my heel and ran to the room of Sean’s parents. I opened their door and looked in. They seemed fast asleep. I cleared my throat. “Ah, excuse me. Are you awake?” Neither of them stirred. They were asleep. I knew Sean would mess with my head if he got the chance, but I was positive his parents wouldn’t do something like that. I carefully closed their door and returned to my room. I walked toward my bed, but stopped short. “What the fuck?” It was messed up again. It looked just as it should have, just as I’d left it when I went to Sean’s room. But it had been neatly made just a few moments before! I knew it had! I was freaked. Was I having a nervous breakdown? I had half a mind to return to Sean’s room and check to see if he was still sleeping, but I was afraid of what I’d find when I returned. I was hallucinating or something. I must’ve been seeing things because I was so upset. I was still freaked-out, though. I was almost too scared to get into bed. I climbed in and looked around me. Nothing else was out of place. I grew drowsy. Maybe I’d just been half asleep and imagining things. Or maybe I’d been doing

something like sleepwalking. Yeah. It had to be something like that. I drifted off to sleep.

Sean Nick and I were sitting downstairs in the main parlor talking and eating some cookies (Nick’s idea and I knew better than to refuse. He still suspected I was anorexic or something). We couldn’t make out all the time, although it was fun to try. I knew I was really in love with Nick, because I loved doing all kinds of things with him. Eating cookies with him could be almost as much fun as making out, or fooling around. We didn’t have to be doing anything sexual to enjoy ourselves. It was a good thing too, because those times were rare. Most of the time, we were just like any other friends, except we loved each other more deeply. “Uh-oh — here comes Mr. Homophobe,” whispered Nick. Avery was coming down the stairs. Nick grabbed me quickly and planted a kiss on my mouth. I pulled Nick’s shirt up and rubbed his chest and grinned. Avery skidded to a halt when he saw us. “Fags,” he said. “Good afternoon to you, too,” said Nick cheerfully, Neither of us could keep from giggling. It had the desired effect — it immediately pissed Avery off. “You don’t even have the decency to be ashamed of yourselves!” he hissed as he walked up to us.

“You got anything else to say, Mr. Religious Right?” I asked. I could tell Avery didn’t like that at all — score another point to the gay boys! “Yeah. I’m tellin’ your parents about you, faggot, and I’m gonna tell them what you two were doin’ up in your bedroom.” “You mean this?” asked Nick, kissing me again. Avery just glared at him. “I’m not kidding! You won’t be laughing in a few minutes.” I considered telling Avery to go right ahead, because my parents already knew I was gay, but I decided it would be more fun to toy with him. I put a look of fear on my face. “You’re serious aren’t you?” I pleaded. “Dude, that is not cool!” “Please don’t!” cried Nick, following my lead. “If they find out, I might not be able to see Sean anymore!” Nick was a really good actor — tears were even welling up in his eyes! “You should’ve thought about that before you became fags,” said Avery, shaking his head.. “You should’ve thought about it before you insulted me.” “Please,” I said, “we’ll do anything.” “I bet you would, fag.” Was this guy for real? One thing was for sure — he was a dick. “Please,” said Nick, getting up and walking over to Avery. He put out his hand. “Please don’t tell.”

“Get off me, queer!” said Avery, knocking Nick’s hand away. “That’s it! I’m telling.” He sounded like a first grader getting ready to tattle on a classmate. Nick and I rushed after him as he walked into the kitchen, as if trying to stop him. Avery’s eyes had an evil glint in them. “Hi honey,” said Mom as we entered. “Hi there, Nick, Avery.” “I’ve got something to tell you,” said Avery. “What’s that, dear?” she asked. I decided it was just the right moment to kiss Nick on the lips, in full view of my mom and Avery. I pressed my lips to Nick’s and gave him a quick, but affectionate kiss. Avery’s mouth dropped open and his head jerked back and forth between Nick and me, and Mom. I don’t know if he was more shocked that we’d kissed in front of my mom, or that her only reaction was to smile. We normally didn’t kiss in front of her, but I knew she wouldn’t have a problem with a kiss like that. If we’d started making out, it would’ve been another situation, but it was a just quick kiss. “What did you want to tell me, Avery?” asked Mom in all innocence. He looked stunned. “Um, oh, well... Just that I went swimming the other day. It was great!” “That’s nice, honey.” Nick and I left the kitchen. Avery wasn’t far behind us.

“I hate you guys,” he hissed as he passed. “But we love you, Avery,” said Nick. Both of us laughed. Avery turned red, then fled from the room. “We really are horrible,” I said. “Yeah, and isn’t it fun.” Nick had a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Besides, he deserves it, and more. Maybe it’ll teach him a lesson.” I pointed up the stairs. “Should we go ask Avery if he wants to have a three-way with us?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows,. Nick doubled up in laughter at my suggestion. “No way! No one is touching my boyfriend!” I put my arm affectionately on his shoulder. “You know, we’d better be a little more careful with Avery around. If he’d walked in on us in the attic last night...” Nick shuddered. “Yeah, that would not have been good.” “No way. If Mom and Dad found out about that... Shit, I don’t even wanna think about it.” “We’ll just have to make sure we lock the door.” I smiled at Nick and kissed him. He was the best boyfriend, and best friend ever.

Avery Sean and his little faggot boyfriend really ticked me off. They thought they were so fuckin’ funny. Sean knew good and well his mom already knew about him, but he led to be believe it was a secret he didn’t want revealed. Those little queers had made me look stupid. It made me so mad I wanted to kick both their asses... but there was two of them and one of me. I might be able to take Sean, but that other one looked pretty strong. Besides, I couldn’t exactly go starting trouble with them. Shit. I was beginning to think everyone was against me. I sighed. The only friend I had was Will, and he was long dead. It was kind of odd that I thought of him as my friend. We’d never met, and never would. But he was still a lot better than any of the dick-heads around me. Well, Matt was pretty cool, but even he was kind of a jerk in some ways. I felt like Will was really speaking to me through his journal. It was almost like he’d known I would read it. I spent nearly the entire day looking for more of Will’s journal. I looked for hours without finding anything. Sean and his boyfriend were gone, thank God. I didn’t like to be around either of them, especially when they were pawing at each other, which was practically all the time. It seemed like whenever I saw them, they were goin’ at it. I could just imagine what they did behind closed doors. The mere thought

just about made me hurl. It was disgusting. To think that my own cousin was a fag just made me sick. I couldn’t believe Sean’s parents either. They knew he was a queer and they didn’t care! They should have kicked his ass out the moment they found out about him. Instead, they acted like there was nothing wrong with him, at least his mom did. His dad was never around, so I didn’t really know how he felt. I just didn’t get it. At the very least, they should have sent him off to see a shrink or something. The boy was messed up. I didn’t understand how Sean could kiss another boy and actually like it! I knew he’d done a lot more too. When I walked in on him and Nick in his bedroom, they were all over each other. Sean even had his hand down the back of Nick’s pants, feelin’ up his ass! Gross. I didn’t even want to think about what else they’d done — it was just too sick and perverted. I managed to find a few journal pages in the midafternoon, but it was pretty boring stuff. I wondered why Will even bothered to write about some of the things he did. I grew tired of the search and spent some time watching television. At least they had satellite, even in this hick town. I also helped my aunt move some furniture around. It didn’t hurt to stay on her good side. I had a knack for getting into trouble, especially in school, and brown-nosing a bit now would help me out when it happened. Before I knew it, it’d grown dark again. I’d wasted the entire day. I should’ve gone to the park and skated with Matt or something, but I was still kind of troubled

over the stuff he’d said. I wasn’t exactly nice when we parted either. He might not want to have anything to do with me. I was kind of apprehensive about seeing him again. It was too late anyway. I found myself wandering from room to room again, seeking out more of the journal. It was my only way to pass the time, and it was my lone connection to my only friend. In an hour, I’d found another bit of the journal, hidden away in an old trunk. At first I was excited, but when I read it, I wasn’t so sure finding it was a good thing. August 21, 1871 I feel like my body is eating itself up from the inside. Ed and I took a long walk through the woods today. We did not stop at the lake, but both of us went shirtless again. I couldn’t help but look at Eddie and when I did so I felt the sweet fire within me flame high again. I wanted to run away and do what I did nightly to relieve the tension and pressure. I didn’t even know if I could wait those few hours until dark. How quickly my sinful acts have gained control of me. I’m nothing but a slave to them, beyond hope! Ed commented more than once on how strong I looked. I suppose it is true. Before coming to live with the Graymoors, I worked long, hard hours in the fields with my father. When we were not at work with the crops, there were rails to split for fences, and wood to chop for the fire. There was

always work to do and it kept my body hard. Edward had never done such work and was slim, and dare I say it... beautiful. There was a look in his eyes as he peered at me that I did not understand. His eyes often drifted to my bare chest and I think the muscle must have intrigued him. Perhaps he was wishing he could look like me too. I did enjoy feeling strong and I wondered if perhaps Ed was not missing that feeling. He was not weak, but he did not have the same thick chest and broad shoulders as me, even though he was months older. That night as I amused myself with my own body, I allowed myself forbidden thoughts. In my mind I reached out and touched the bare skin of Edward’s chest. The excitement was too much to bear, as was the shame that came after, when I thought of what I’d allowed myself to do. Even though it was only within my own mind, it felt sinful and wrong. How can I rid myself of these feelings? How can I free myself of such sins? I thought of going to the preacher in town and begging him to help me, but I feared he’d tell Mr. Graymoor. Edward’s father could grow enraged at the most trivial breaking of his rules. The punishment could be severe, even if the crime were nothing more than tracking dirt upon the floor. I feared what he would do to me if he knew the things I’d done. I feared him at all times. He had never accepted me as anything more than an inconvenience.

I put the aged sheet of paper to the side. I did not want to believe it, but it was becoming more and more clear. I did not want to accept it, but it was looking more and more like William was a queer. It confused and angered me. How could he be? Him? It just didn’t seem possible. I felt angry and betrayed. I felt as if even my distant friend in time was turning away from me. Queerness was like a disease — it infected everything and was ruining my life. It had taken my home from me, even taken my parents away. On television, some stupid news show was talking about the poor gay boys who were mistreated and beaten. As far as I was concerned, they got what they fucking deserved. I just wished I wasn’t living with Sean, so I could give him a good taste of my fists. Suddenly, The light overhead flickered and went out and the television died, plunging the room into darkness. I got up and picked my way across the room, squinting to see in the near-total darkness. “Damn it!” I yelled out loudly, as I smacked my shins into a chair and tumbled over it onto the floor. I looked at the chair angrily. I almost felt like it moved itself in my way on purpose. I went to my room, undressed, and climbed into bed. I tossed and turned. Sleep would not come. Visions of fags haunted me, leering at me, laughing at me, touching me. It was as if I were surrounded by them.

When I finally fell asleep, I began to dream, and the dream was horrible. At first, I was William Graymoor. I was checking out Edward and thinking horrible thoughts. In the dream I didn’t actually think the thoughts, but I knew they were bad. I felt consumed by fear, sadness, and emotional pain. It hurt so bad I cried in my dream, racked with sobs. I wanted to die. The dream shifted. Dave was forcing me into his motel room. I was still Will Graymoor part of the time, but I was mostly me. Dave pushed me down onto the bed. His hands were all over me. The dream shifted and I was helpless, with my wrists tied behind my back. Dave was on me, hurting me. I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck. He was doing unspeakable things to me. I turned my head to the side and Sean and his fag boyfriend were there, too. They were making out in a corner, undressing each other. They stopped now and then to watch what Dave was doing to me, and laugh. Then they joined in the fun. Part of the time it was Sean on me; part of the time it was his boy. I fought to free myself, but I was powerless. They used me and laughed at me, slapping at my ass and making me grovel. I wanted to kill them all. It went on and on and I thought it would never stop. I cried and they made fun of me for it; it was horrible. I awoke with a start, the sheets damp with my sweat. I knew it was only a dream, but I was so upset I was sobbing. I needed my mom. I needed her to hold me and tell me it was okay, but she wasn’t there. She was gone... dead. She wasn’t ever coming back.

I felt so alone. I cried even more when I remembered that the last words I’d said to my parents were “I hate you.” *** I felt as if I were on the edge of an obsession with William Graymoor. I couldn’t believe what I had read. I felt as if he had turned on me. I hoped that I was wrong about him. I needed more information. Surely, there was something to explain it. I started searching the first thing the next morning for more of his journal. Luckily, Sean took off for his work on the farm so I didn’t have to be near him. I searched all morning with no luck whatsoever. It was like a rerun of the day before. The journal pages were getting harder to find. Perhaps there were no more parts to discover, but that I doubted. Finally, just before it was time for lunch, I discovered a bit more of Will’s writing. I did not feel better after I’d read it, however, not in the least. September 1, 1871 I cannot believe the events of this day. They seem as far beyond my understanding as the stars. I feel as if my head were opened and libraries of knowledge poured into it, and yet I still know not what to think.

In the morning, Eddie invited me for a long walk. Although it had turned to September, it was still fine and hot and Ed wasted no time in ridding himself of his shirt as soon as we were safely out of sight. I pulled mine off as well and his eyes immediately fell upon my nudity. He pulled me along, as if with some purpose, as I fought to rein in the feelings and emotions that Ed aroused within me. We walked deep into the forest, to a beautiful meadow open to the sky above. It was in a sort of hollow, a hidden space, where prying eyes could not see. There Edward stood before me and trembled slightly. He said he was going to take a great risk. He said he’d been thinking and watching and that he hoped he was right, because if he wasn’t, I would hate and despise him forever. I was shocked. I told him I could never hate him, but he didn’t seem so sure. He said I could well hate him for what he was about to tell me. Ed looked as if he were about to cry and I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. I loved him and I did not like to see him suffer in the least. Touching his bare skin fanned the flames deep within me, but I bore it for his sake. Ed looked at my hand upon him and ever so gently reached out and pressed his fingers to my bare chest. My eyes widened at his touch and the fires within me rose even higher. He moved his

fingertips over my skin, and a sigh escaped from my lips. Eddie leaned in ever so slightly. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I stood there still as he brought his face closer and closer to mine. My eyes opened wide in shock as he pressed his lips to mine and kissed me. I could not speak; I could not move. Ed kissed me again. I began to cry. Tears flowed from my eyes and I sank to my knees sobbing. Ed followed me down to the ground, pushing my hair out of my eyes, asking me softly what was wrong, if he had hurt me, or scared me. He kept saying he was sorry, so very sorry. My senses and mind were overloaded. I couldn’t take in what had transpired. I was terrified and yet relieved, repelled and yet attracted. I felt joy and horror at the same moment. So many emotions played through my head, rolling over one another. I felt as if I didn’t know how to react to anything. I just kept sobbing. Edward pulled me to him and hugged me. I clung to him desperately, still crying, still unable to comprehend. He was still confused at my reaction. I did not blame him. How could he possibly understand me when even I could not? I cried myself out and Ed finally took my face in his hands and peered into my eyes. He told me he was sorry for upsetting me and that it would not ever happen again.

I felt so guilty. I knew I’d made Ed do what he’d done. I’d made him kiss me! My sin had become so great that it was affecting even him! I told Ed so, but he told me I was wrong. He told me he had wanted to kiss me forever. His words penetrated my tortured mind. Could this be so? Had he really said he’d wanted to kiss me forever? Was it possible that someone as good and beautiful and wonderful as Edward had spoken those words? He...wanted to kiss...me? I asked him if he had really wanted to kiss me, because I could not believe it. He practically screamed “yes” at me. I started to speak of what a great sin that was, but how could it be so when Ed wanted it? Instead, I admitted something to Ed, before my courage had a chance to fail. I told him I’d always wanted to kiss him too. I started crying again. Ed held me for a long time before venturing to speak again. When he did, he asked what was the matter... if I had always wanted him to kiss me, and he had done so, where was the problem? I told him it was a grievous sin. He asked how that was so and I told him the Bible said it. Ed said that it did not, that only men say it and they were wrong. I asked him how he knew and he told me that he loved me, and that love is never wrong. I looked at him in astonishment and hugged him tight. My heart told me he was right, but what I’d been taught did not agree. Which did I follow, my

head or my heart? Was there really any choice in the end? I told Edward that I loved him, and he spoke the words back. I knew that he meant it. I could feel it. He meant it as much as I. Edward told me that if I loved him, I should kiss him, and I did. He pulled me to my feet, then kissed me again. We stood there in the meadow, two bare-chested boys kissing each other in the bright sun. It felt so right I knew it had to be. I felt as if God himself were shining his light down upon us showing his approval. We kissed and kissed and hugged and hugged. It felt so very wonderful to hold Ed in my arms, and it felt even better to be held in his. At last, I was loved. We stayed long in that meadow, and returned holding hands. I had feelings flowing through me I’d never felt before. I knew it would take me a long time to work it all out, but Ed loved me and I loved him. Somehow, that made everything okay. The paper slipped through my fingers and fell to the floor. So it was true. There was no denying it. Will was a fag, just like the boy at the park and beach, just like Sean and his boy, just like Dave, just like Michael and all the others. I felt faintly nauseated. I also felt intensely confused. Will spoke of Edward just as a boy would his girlfriend! He really loved him. What was

between them wasn’t just disgusting sexual acts, there was more. I hadn’t considered this before. It upset my expectations and my beliefs. I didn’t want to think about it. Will was still a fag. I felt as if I’d lost my last friend. I also lost my desire to search for any more of his journal. He was one of them, and I didn’t care what had happened to him. Not anymore. *** I grabbed my skateboard and headed for the park. I needed to get away from Graymoor. There were too many queers there, both in the present and the past. Even Sean’s mother was a queer sympathizer! I guess she kind of had to be, considering that her son was a homo. Then again, a lot of parents tossed their kids out when they discovered they were perverts. It made no sense. Everything was screwed up in this little fag town. I saw Matt skating alone in the park. He was another one, a queer sympathizer that is. I didn’t want to think about it. Matt was cool and a kick-ass skater. I needed a friend and I thought he could be a good one. I was tired of being alone and friendless, so I walked toward him. I’d just play things out. If he turned out to be a freak, I’d just dump him. “Hey,” he said, somewhat warily as I approached. “What up?” “Just killing some time,” he replied.

“Cool. Hey, listen, Matt... about before. I’m sorry if I wasn’t too nice. It’s just that I didn’t know about my cousin, and I guess I was kinda shocked.” “Well, I guess that’s okay.” The way he said it, I wasn’t sure if he meant it or not. “Um, Matt, can I ask you a question?” “I’m not gay,” he said, without me even asking. “Are you, um... bisexual?” “No. I only like girls — sexually that is. Well, you know what I mean.” That was a relief. At least Matt wasn’t one of them too. I didn’t like his acceptance of queers, but maybe I could tolerate it. I decided not to say anything about it as I suspected we’d get into a fight. I’d just have to put up with his attitude. At least I didn’t have to worry about him checkin’ out my ass or something while we were skating. “Come on,” said Matt, “I’ve been workin’ on jumping up on this curb, but it’s kinda high, and I can’t quite manage it. Maybe you can show me how.” I put my board on the sidewalk and followed Matt as he zipped away. From what I’d seen so far, he had a lot of talent for maneuverability, but wasn’t the best when it came to jumping. I knew raw talent when I saw it, however. All he needed was a little practice. Matt showed me the curb he was talking about. It was about two and a half feet high and little wider than the

board. He tried to take it, but couldn’t quite clear and went down. “You’re not using your legs right,” I told him. “You’ve just got to lift the board up higher. Here, lemme show you.” I skated down the walk, then came back and jumped onto the curb with ease. “Damn, you’re good, dude!” he said, clearly impressed. “Okay, just do what I did. Make sure you get the board straight with the curb before you land or you’ll run right off it again. It’s way narrow.” Matt screwed up his first attempt, but got it on the second. He had no trouble staying on the curb once he got there and sailed down it as if it were as wide as the sidewalk. I gave him a thumbs up, and he shot me a grin. We had a good time skating, so good in fact that I nearly forgot about my troubles. Matt wasn’t an ideal friend, but he was cool in his own way. At least he liked girls. Maybe he could even hook me up. It had been way too long since I’d seen any kind of action. Man, I needed some!

Sean Often in the past, I’d wished I had a brother, but I sure didn’t like the one I had now. Just when I was beginning to think that he was cool, I discovered the real Avery. I didn’t understand him. I didn’t understand anyone who was so down on gays. Why did the thought of two guys making love freak him out? What was wrong with it? Sure, there were guys who had meaningless, cheap sex, but they were the exception and not the rule. Mostly, I think being gay was about love. But even if being gay had been about nothing more than sex, there was a terrible double-standard. A lot of straight guys had quick and dirty sex with girls, and they even bragged about it. It was like some kind of badge of manhood. If a guy had a story to tell in the locker room about a girl he’d just had, he was like some kind of hero. But if he told the same story, but it was about another boy instead of a girl, he was some kind of pervert. It didn’t make any sense. I wasn’t going to worry much about why Avery had such a bad attitude. I knew I could think on it for weeks and never figure him out. I’d dealt with his kind before. I knew how to handle guys like Avery. He wasn’t the first bigot to cross my path and he wouldn’t be the last. I knew there were plenty of people who hated me just because I was gay — but that was their problem, not

mine. If their only reason for hating me was that I was gay, then their opinion didn’t matter at all. I’d heard somewhere that no matter what you do, a third of the people will love you, a third will hate you, and a third won’t care. If that was true, then I wasn’t going to worry about the third that hated me. I intended to live my life as I saw fit. I pedaled my bike down the road to the farm. Sometimes, I wished I could live there. Even before it had been the home of my boyfriend, I loved it. Ethan and Nathan had always been there for me. I don’t know what I’d have done if they weren’t there to help me when I was dealing with being gay. The world makes it hard on gay boys when they first figure out who they are. There is a lot of pressure not to be gay. The world can be very cruel. Trying to keep a gay boy from being gay is just like trying to keep a tiger from being a tiger. Only bad things can come of it. Ethan and Nathan gave me the support I needed. They were family. As I rode up, Nick was climbing in the back of the pickup. He waved to me to join him. Ethan and Nathan were up front. I was glad I wasn’t late, as it looked like we were obviously going somewhere. “What’s up?” I asked Nick. “Brendan and Casper are putting up a new barn. We’re all going to help raise the walls.” Now that was something I’d never done before. I was glad I hadn’t missed out on it. I’d be excited to see Brendan and Casper again too. They had sure helped

me out when I was having troubles the last time, which was not very long ago at all. As I sat in the back next to Nick, I laughed to myself. “What’s funny?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I was just thinking that I’d never have suspected there were so many gay guys in Verona. I mean... there’s me and you, Ethan, Nathan, Brendan, Casper, and a few others besides.” He grinned. “Well, maybe more gay guys are out around here than in most places. I bet there aren’t more than in other places; it just seems like it.” “True, but it’s cool that not many people around here give us trouble.” “Well, after what happened with Kyle, I think you’ve had your share. And of course, there was what happened to Mark and Taylor.” I sat and thought to myself for a bit as the truck bounced along the old road. Sometimes thinking of Kyle still frightened me. Before Nick had come along, I’d had a thing for Kyle. He led me on, but I had no idea he was crazy. He’d come from out west and had been a member of some fundamentalist church, which was actually more of a cult. Kyle’s church preached that gays were evil and should either repent, or die. Kyle was a bit off in the head, even though he didn’t seem like it at first, and he actually killed three gay boys right in Verona. One of them, Marty, was my best friend. Kyle would’ve killed me too, if I hadn’t been very lucky — thanks to some help from Marshall and

some very unlikely sources. Sometimes, I still had bad dreams about Kyle, but he was gone, locked away, and he wasn’t coming back. I turned my thoughts from him and instead let memories of Mark and Taylor enter my mind. I smiled when I thought of them. Now there were two boys I never thought I’d meet. They were beautiful and wonderful. They made me proud to be gay. That was a whole story in itself, but the trip wasn’t long enough for me to relive that again. When we arrived, Brendan was out working at the construction site. It was near an old barn that was obviously too small to accommodate all their new farm equipment. The new barn had a poured concrete floor, and there were big sections of wall all ready to put into place. I could see why they needed our help in getting the walls up. Brendan was wearing jeans and no shirt. I had to admit, he looked fine. Nick and I exchanged looks and I know he was thinking that Brendan looked hot too. Nick and I were secure in our relationship, so it was okay to notice other guys. Sometimes, we went boywatching together. We were kind of bad when we did that — we even gave out scores. We only told each other, however; we didn’t shout ‘em out, the way boys sometimes did at girls. That was just wrong, especially when the score wasn’t so good. Of course, there was that bit of trouble with Gil. I’d been way jealous when Nick was checking him out. That was mainly my own insecurity and poor body

image that caused the trouble, though. Nick and I had discussed that in depth, so I was working through my problems. Casper came out to the barn. He was wearing a wifebeater. I wonder why they called those shirts that? It was a pretty terrible name when you thought about it. Anyway, he also looked fine. He wasn’t as wellmuscled as Brendan, but he was totally hot. He was also about the cutest guy I’d ever seen in my life. He was forever smiling and that made him all the more attractive. Everything was all laid out and ready. All we had to do was lift the framework for the walls into place. It wouldn’t be too tough a job with the six of us there. The wall sections were about ten or twelve feet tall, and the largest was maybe thirty feet long or so. Brendan briefly explained what we had to do and we all took our places. Basically, we were going to lift each section off the ground, walk it up until it was standing, and then drop it in place over the large bolts that protruded from the concrete floor. Once that was done, it just had to be secured. All of us grabbed the first section and lifted it off the ground. It weighed a ton, but it went up smoothly and easily. I had the feeling that Ethan and Brendan could have lifted it all by themselves. I was a bit distracted by their bulging muscles. I never failed to notice built guys, probably because I wasn’t at all well-built myself. Out of everyone there, I definitely had the scrawniest body. That didn’t matter, however, to me, or to them.

After talking things out with Nick, I was cool with who I was. Everyone there liked me, too. And besides, I was working out and getting closer and closer to being buff myself! Okay, so I wouldn’t be buff for months, or maybe years, but at least I was trying. I knew that Nick would love me even if I failed. He didn’t care if I was buff or not. It was me who wanted to be built. We got the wall up and held it. While some of us steadied the wall, Brendan, Ethan, and Casper lifted up a part of it and lined the drilled holes in the base with the bolts in the floor. This was the hardest part, but it didn’t take too long. Brendan got on a ladder and nailed in some long two by fours to steady the wall, while Casper and Nathan attached large metal lock-nuts onto the bolts, securing the wall to the floor. When they were done with their work, the wall was standing on its own. We did the same thing for each section of wall. It was interesting to see the new barn beginning to take shape. It was hot as could be out and we were all sweating like crazy, but nobody cared. Being with all those guys was fun. I never failed to have a good time when I was around any of them. I’m not just saying that because they were good-looking either, although that didn’t hurt. They would’ve still been fun if they were buttugly. I didn’t know a whole lot about Brendan and Casper, but I knew they had to flee from their hometown when they were young, because they were gay. They ended up living and working on the Selby farm. They must’ve liked it, because they went out and bought their own

farm a few years later. Someday, I wanted to hear their story. I almost couldn’t imagine having to run away from home as a teenager. I was glad I’d never have to do that. I was lucky that I had parents who loved and understood me. It took almost two hours to get all the walls into place, but eventually it was done. I was exhausted, but I think that was largely due to the heat. We all retired to the shade of a great oak tree and Casper brought out big pitchers of lemonade, ice tea, and ice water. We sat around and talked and it was like a big party. I loved being there. When I was with those guys I felt so comfortable. It was what the world should have been like. I looked at Brendan. I really liked him. He’d helped me out at school long before I knew he was gay and even before I was out myself. Phys. Ed. wasn’t exactly my favorite class; actually, it was more like my least favorite. I wasn’t especially strong and I definitely wasn’t athletic. I wasn’t very well coordinated either. I had quite a bit of trouble with things that came easy to a lot of boys, like basketball and softball. I didn’t like most of that stuff because I wasn’t any good at it. Or maybe I wasn’t any good at it because I didn’t like it. Anyway, I used to have a very rough time in gym, but Brendan took me aside and talked to me, more than once. He let me know that it was okay if I wasn’t so good at sports. He told me lots of boys weren’t, and I shouldn’t be down on myself for it. He explained how everyone had talents, and mine were just in another

area. He himself excelled at athletics. He’d been captain of the football team at his school in Kentucky, then later in Verona. He was famous for it. Brendan told me how much he wished he could sing and play musical instruments, but he just couldn’t do it. He’d tried, but he just didn’t have the talent for it. It was as if his genetics optimized him just for athletics, not music, just as mine was in something other than sports — just what, I hadn’t discovered yet. Talking to him made me feel a whole lot better about myself. Brendan was really cool because he didn’t let any of the boys pick on others, no matter the reason. The one way to make him mad was to pick on someone. He just didn’t tolerate it. That probably saved me some trouble in the locker room — not that my classmates were mean or anything, but that kind of thing could easily go on. One thing was for sure. I never had to worry about anyone calling me ‘faggot’ in gym class. That didn’t really happen much anyway, but I felt especially safe from it in there. I remembered when I found out Brendan was gay. It floored me. He was the very essence of a straight jock. He was tall, muscular, and incredibly athletic — a walking, breathing example of a straight jock... only he wasn’t straight. Finding out he was gay made me proud to be what I was. I thought that if a guy like that was gay, then it must be all right. Brendan helped me have a much more positive opinion of my homosexuality by being gay himself. I think he was a good example for

straight guys, too. They respected Brendan, and that respect helped all us gay boys. Brendan rocked. I’d been thinking so much about Brendan, that I almost forgot where I was. I didn’t do that too often, but sometimes I got lost in my own thoughts. I stole a glance at Brendan again, admiring his chest, his massive arms, and his firm waist. He was gorgeous. I wanted to look like him so bad. I wondered what it’d be like to have that kind of body. Maybe someday, I would. It was something to work toward anyway. Nick was talking with Casper and Nathan. He was smiling and happy. He was in a place where everyone understood him, and cared for him. I thought about all the horrible things that were said about gays, but what was before my eyes was something entirely different. Everyone in our little group cared about everyone else. No matter what, we’d be there for each other. We didn’t put each other down, or try to put ourselves above others. We accepted each other for what we were. We acknowledged our strengths, and our weaknesses. Each of us was allowed to be what he was. If the whole world was like that, there would be few problems. If everyone respected and looked out for everyone else like we did, not much could go wrong. It’s too bad that those who were anti-gay couldn’t understand that. The light was quickly fading and the air grew cooler. The setting sun made the sky all orange, casting the newly-raised walls of the barn in shadows. It was so tranquil that I didn’t want to leave. It was time to go,

however, and we climbed back in the truck and headed for Ethan and Nathan’s farm. We tended to a few chores, and then Nick and I went walking and held hands. Everything was so wonderful when I was with him. Whatever we did, it was a hundred times more enjoyable because we were together. I drank in the beauty of our surroundings. The farm seemed a magical place. It was so beautiful and peaceful it almost didn’t seem real. I could easily understand why Ethan and Nathan loved it so. I loved it, too, and dreamed of living in a place like it with Nick someday. Where we lived wasn’t really important, however, I knew I’d be happy, as long as we were together.

Avery I walked into the parlor downstairs to find Sean and Nick making out on a love-seat. As always, their hands were all over each other. “You guys make me sick,” I said, wincing. “Oh, shut up, Avery,” said Sean. “We don’t care what you think.” “Don’t tell me to shut up, faggot! I’m sick of all you queers. They ought to take guys like you out and beat them to death.” Sean leapt up to his feet, furious. I’d never seen him so angry before. I thought he was going to punch me in the face. He was literally trembling with rage. “Shut the fuck up, Avery!” Sean was right in my face. I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back. He slapped my hands away and came back at me. Nick pushed his way in between us, facing Sean. “Guys, settle down,” said Nick. “My best friend died because of guys like you!” Sean screamed at me, as Nick held him back. Sean was crying. I’d never seen him like that before. I took a step back. He was scaring me. “Sean, chill out,” I said.

“Fuck you! I’ve had just about enough of this shit! You’re just like the guys that killed Marty! You’re just like ‘em!” Sean pulled away from Nick, shoved me out of his way, and ran out of the room. Nick ran after him. I stood there stunned. What was he talking about? Not only was he a queer, he was totally nuts. I didn’t know what was up Sean’s butt, but I didn’t really care. He was just talking crazy. He pissed me off when he shoved me. I should have kicked his ass for it! I had half a mind to go find him and do just that. No, that wasn’t a good idea. I was living with his family. His parents would no doubt take his side. They didn’t even care that he was gay. If I got in a fight with him, I’d be the one in trouble. Life wasn’t fair a lot of the time, and this was one of those times. I just had to swallow my anger and go on. I pushed Sean out of my mind and thought of my own troubles instead. There were way too many queers in the world. I felt like everyone I knew had gone gay on me, even Will. How could he do that to me? I felt like he was my only friend and then he turns out to be one of them, too. What was this? Some kind of faggot conspiracy or something? At least I had Matt. I didn’t quite count him as a friend, yet, but at least he was fun to hang around. I was bored, so I put on my cut-offs, grabbed some sun-block and a beach towel and left the house. It was another day that was just too damned hot to do much of anything, so I thought I might work on a bit of a tan in

the park. Maybe Matt would be there and we could pal around or something. I hadn’t quite made up my mind about him, but he was the best I could do at the moment. I almost wished that summer were over, so I could make some friends at school. There just had to be some cool, straight guys around somewhere. I was near the park when I saw the little fruit up ahead, the boy who had been checking me out, the boy who I’d threatened with an ass-kicking if he so much as looked at me again. All the anger that Sean had stirred up surged to the surface when my eyes fell on that little fag. He was walking around like he had a right to be there, like he was just like everyone else, and not some little freak that drooled over boys. I hated him. I grinned as I stood there looking at him. I was seething with anger, but pleasant thoughts were creeping into my mind. Yes, the little queer was just what I needed, a little entertainment. Tanning could wait. I hurried to catch up to him. I’d have liked more than anything to just beat him senseless, but there were too many people around for that. I sure couldn’t risk kicking his ass in front of witnesses; I’d be in deep shit if I did that. It was okay — there was more than one way to torment a pillowbiter. “Hey, faggot,” I said when I was near. The boy jerked his head around and looked at me in fear. He knew my voice already and it inspired terror in him. I liked that.

I walked right up to him until we were less than a foot apart. “Aren’t you going to say ‘hi’, queer boy?” “Uh, hi.” “So, how long have you known you’re a faggot?” He shrugged his shoulders. I could tell he was uncomfortable and scared to death, and the nearest help he could get was more than 30 feet away. I knew I could have some fun making him squirm. “What’s your name, kid?” “Shane,” he said in a small voice. I remembered then that Matt had told me his name at the beach. “Oh, that’s definitely a fairy name! No wonder you drool over boys. You know, Shane, I think I’ll do you a favor. I think I’ll tell your parents their son is a little fag, that way they can help you to change. Maybe they can un-fag you.” “No, please!” he said desperately. Damn, this was fun. I couldn’t beat the little shit senseless, but I could say anything I wanted to him, and no one could hear. It was perfect. I laid it on thick. “You just made a serious mistake, little fag. You see, now I know how desperate you are to keep your secret. You could have acted like your parents already knew, or that you didn’t give a shit if I told them or not, and I might’ve believed you. I know better now, because you’re so scared. You know what that means?”

“What?” he asked timidly. “It means you’re my little bitch now. I own you. I can make you do anything I want — because if you don’t, I’ll tell your parents all about you. You wouldn’t want that, now would you?” He didn’t answer, but I knew he was shaking in his shoes. Actually, I could see him trembling slightly. I laughed. “I bet you never thought checking me out would get you in such deep shit. You better remember that next time and keep your eyes to yourself.” “Okay,” he said. He was so meek he made me sick. “Okay? I don’t think so. From now on when you answer me, you say ‘sir’.” “Okay... I m-mean — yes, sir!” Damn! I had him right where I wanted him. It was like getting a new toy. “I’ll tell you what, Shane,” I said thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ll make you do anything just now. I’ll just let you think about what is coming. I promise that you won’t like it, not at all. Be afraid, faggot... be very afraid.” I walked off and left him crying. He was shaking like a leaf, and tears were rolling down his cheeks. At least one little queer would pay for being a fag. It was just too bad I couldn’t get to ‘em all. Matt wasn’t around, so I spread out my towel, put on some sun-block, and lay in the sun while I thought about the things I could force Shane to do. I needed

something good, something humiliating. It had to be something that left no physical evidence. I could take him somewhere and beat him up, but the bruises would raise questions. That could end my fun. I also had to be careful not to do anything to Shane that was so bad that it would be worse than me outing him to his parents. Otherwise, he might tell them himself to be free of me. I also wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything illegal that he could use against me. I was still on probation. Yeah, this was definitely gonna take a lot of thought. I had to keep it simple. I needed something unpleasant for him, fun for me, but not severe enough it could get me in trouble if he told. I had quite a nice time just lying there in the sun thinking about it. I loved the look of fear on the little queer’s face. I smiled. Revenge felt so good. *** I returned to Graymoor feeling a lot better than I had when I left. Finally, I felt like I had managed to strike back at the queers. Sean and his boy thought they were so funny when they set me up. I knew they deliberately touched each other and kissed when I was around. They wouldn’t be laughing if they knew I had one of their kind under my thumb. They’d probably cry their little hearts out if they knew what I was gonna do. Ompf! I was so wrapped up in thinking about their reaction that I walked right into a big table. It caught

me in the midsection and made me double over with pain for a moment. When I did so, I noticed that something had fallen from under it. It was another part of Will’s journal. I picked it up and started to just toss it, when I noticed the first line. That made me think that maybe I should read it after all. September 24, 1871 Today was a nightmare. The worst of all possible things, at least in my mind, has happened. Eddie and I were in our private, special place. We had been making love for a good long time. Eddie was on top of me, and in me, when we heard a noise and looked up. There was a boy watching us. It was Andrew, the boy from our neighborhood whom I’d beaten in the wrestling tournament. He was standing there staring at us. I would have expected a shocked look on his face, but that is not what I read there. What I saw in his features made me shiver. I saw evil and malice. Ed and I were right in the middle of a passionate kiss, but we stopped and parted when we saw him. We each grabbed our trousers and hastily pulled them on. Andrew just stood there looking at us, eating up the scene with his eyes. His lack of surprise made me wonder if he had watched us before.

Andrew told Ed that he always knew he was “one of those” — a sodomite. I looked at Ed. I could tell he was scared, so was I. Our secret was out — to Andrew in any case — and that gave him tremendous power over us. I prayed he wasn’t smart enough to know that, but he was, and he was evil enough to use it. Andrew was horrible. He told Edward that he owned him from now on. He said Ed was uppity and thought he was too good for everyone else because of his rich father and big house. Andrew told Ed that he’d have to do what he said from now on, or else. I kept hoping I’d just wake up. My whole body shook with terror. What was happening was so ghastly, so terrifying, it couldn’t possibly be real. Such horrors existed only in dreams. I wasn’t dreaming, however, and I had a feeling my life was over. Andrew made Ed and me come home with him. He sat and watched, eating an apple, as we chopped up the wood he was supposed to split, and stacked it as he was supposed to. I think the physical labor was harder on Eddie than it was on me, because he wasn’t used to it. The work wasn’t what hurt me; it was knowing that I had to do it. I didn’t like the feeling of being a slave, and Andrew had almost complete control over us. We worked for three hours or more, doing Andrew’s chores for him. I hated the look of smug

satisfaction on his face, and I despised the things he said to us as we worked. His words were degrading and vulgar. He took the lovemaking between Eddie and myself and spoke of it as if it were something base and disgusting. I knew he was wrong, but his words still ate at me. When he let us go, we were both hot and sweaty. I felt completely mortified. It was even worse because Ed and I were experiencing it together. I was humiliated in front of the one I loved most, and it was almost impossible to bear. I fear what the future holds for us now. The past weeks have been so wonderful, but now it is as if all is lost. Perhaps it truly is. I’ve looked into Andrew’s eyes and there is no compassion there, no sympathy. He is base, vulgar, and evil, and Ed and I belong to him now. I’m beginning to think that death would be preferable. Ed and I have already discussed how we might escape from this nightmare that has befallen us, but there seems little hope. Two options only seem open to us: The first is flight from our situation. We could pack some clothes and simply take off, perhaps to seek our fortune in the Western plains. Neither of us is quite sure how we’d support ourselves, however. Edward is not eager to take this route because he doesn’t want to leave his Mother and little sister behind, never to see them again.

The second option is far more grisly and we discarded it as fast as it came to us. The one sure way to keep Andrew from talking would be to kill him. No doubt he is the kind that deserves death, but neither Edward or myself is a murderer. I don’t think either of us could live with murder on our conscience, even if Andrew is truly evil. There was yet a third and final option, but it was too ghastly for either of us to even speak out loud. I believe that suicide is a grievous sin. The thought that we could escape by ending our own lives did occur to me, but it is unacceptable. It’s just something that cannot be considered. It would be far better for us to face the hell that is coming, than to commit the ultimate act of sin. At least that is how I see it, and I have no doubt Edward does too. He did not even speak of it, and neither will I. I didn’t feel so good after reading the journal entry. I thought I had pushed William out of my life, but a part of me still felt for him. Maybe it was because we were both orphans. Maybe it was because I had come to consider him my friend before discovering his secret. I didn’t know. The one thing I did know was that it must have been horrible for him to be humiliated like that. What made me feel worse was Andrew. It was almost as if Will were describing me when he talked about him. Shit — now that I thought about it, it was like Shane had written that journal and I was Andrew! Either way, I was the villain. Even my reasons for

reading this section of the journal made me feel bad about myself. The only reason I didn’t toss it in the trash is that the first line read “Today was a nightmare.” I wanted to read it, because I wanted to see what tragedy had befallen Will. I wanted to revel in his pain because he was a fag. I didn’t know that it was my nineteenth-century counterpart who had created the nightmare, just as I was creating it for Shane. Will was a fag, though. There was no doubt about that. Why, then, did I feel something for him? He was just some stupid faggot who lived almost 130 years ago! That was all. Nick walked into the room, but halted when he saw me. I knew he didn’t like me. That was fine; I sure as shit didn’t like him. He was just another queer. I hid the paper I was holding before he had a chance to see it. I didn’t know if I wanted to share it, or not. “Where’s your butt-buddy?” I sneered. “Sean’s making us some sandwiches.” I could tell my words annoyed Nick, but not as much as I would’ve liked. He was looking at me not with anger, but with an expression I didn’t understand. “What are you looking at, asshole? Isn’t your boy enough for you? You want me too or somethin’?” “I was just thinking how I feel sorry for you,” said Nick quietly. “Come again?”

He looked me right in the eye. “It must be pretty horrible to go around with all that hate inside of you.” I didn’t know how to react to that. “Fag,” I said, as I began to walk past him. I didn’t want to be near him. He grabbed my upper arm as I walked past. I roughly shook him off. “Keep off me, faggot!” I snapped. Just as I reached the doorway, he called behind me. “Avery — someday if you wanna talk about it, I’ll be here.” I just stared at him. I had no idea what he was talking about. I didn’t really care. Nick was so weird. I turned and left the room without saying another word.

Sean The weather cooled off considerably, altering from hot to merely warm. I was glad. I’d practically sweated my life away when we’d helped Brendan and Casper with their barn the day before. Nick and I were back at work in the garden, while Ethan and Nathan were once more clearing out the drainage ditch. It was sunny and bright, an ideal day. Pulling weeds might not seem like a pleasant task, but it was — at least with Nick by my side. We talked and laughed and made eyes at each other so that it didn’t seem like work at all. I think I’d have liked it even if I had been alone. Sometimes I worked alone on the farm, and then I had my own thoughts to keep me company. I preferred being with my boyfriend, however, especially because we could steal a kiss now and then. I sometimes could not believe how wonderful it was to be in love. I wondered about Avery. He wasn’t his usual belligerent self lately. Something seemed to have changed him. Perhaps it was because of what had happened between us, but even that didn’t seem to explain it. We’d nearly come to blows when he remarked that gay boys like me deserved a beating. It had struck too close to home. It wasn’t all that long ago that my best friend, Marty, was killed because he was gay. Another of my friends,

as well as another gay boy, had both been beaten to death, soon after Marty was murdered. Avery had no idea any of that had happened, but his remark brought up all the old pain. I just couldn’t handle it and I totally spazzed out on him, but I don’t think that’s what changed Avery. He didn’t seem all that effected by my outburst. He was scared and angry, but not one bit remorseful. Later in the evening, he wasn’t himself. It was the same this morning. He didn’t give me his customary disapproving scowl. Instead, he looked totally down, but I couldn’t tell what it was all about. I was too angry to talk to him about it. He was the very kind of guy that made life miserable for guys like me. He was a bully and a bigot. I think he really meant what he said about gay boys deserving a beating. That made him little better in my eyes than the monsters who’d killed my friends. I guess that wasn’t quite fair, but that’s how I felt. I’d tried to cut Avery a lot of slack because of what had happened to his parents, but it was hard because he was such a jerk. I quit thinking about what Avery had said for awhile, since all it did was piss me off. Nothing good could come of that. I thought instead of Will’s diary. I was certain now that the journal entries we’d been finding were real. Avery had stopped having his dreams, or maybe he just wasn’t telling me about them, but he’d dreamed about enough things that had happened in the journal that it couldn’t merely be coincidence. I was also certain that Avery wasn’t hiding pieces of the journal to “find” later. For one thing, Marshall

pointed out that the torn edges of the journal pages showed age. They had been ripped out long ago, not just in the last few weeks. We even ripped a sheet a little to check on Marshall’s theory, and the inside layer revealed by the rip was whiter than the rest. If Avery had been ripping pages from an old journal and hiding them, then surely they would’ve had the same look. So far not one did; even the ripped edges were yellowed with the passing of time. The real reason I was certain that Avery had nothing to do with the journal was the way I was finding parts of it. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that pages of the journal were finding me. There was the page that just seemed to appear in my bed, before Avery even moved to Graymoor, but there’d been other incidents after that first one. Just a few days before, I’d been alone in my room when I discovered a page from the journal on top of my dresser. I knew for a fact it hadn’t been there when I came in. I put some socks in the top drawer, turned to pick up a stack of boxers, and then when I turned back to the dresser, the page from the journal was there. Even more recently, I was in the kitchen eating cookies. I reached down to pick up another and found a page of the journal laying right on top of the cookie jar. I was alone and no living soul could have placed it there. I had little doubt that the ghosts of Graymoor were responsible for at least some of the discoveries I was making. The question was... which ghosts? I was wellacquainted with the ghosts of Mark and Taylor, but I

knew there were many others around. I didn’t think it was the Graymoor boys themselves. I’d never once seen their ghosts, only reenactments of bits and pieces of their past. That wasn’t to say they couldn’t appear. According to Marshall, there were plenty of others floating around the old house, too. I guess it didn’t matter who was helping me to find the journal. The only real question was: why? I had the feeling I was meant to read the journal, but for what purpose, I didn’t know. My attention was drawn back to the present. I looked over at Nick as he was working. He was no longer smiling. He was on the verge of tears; one of his moods was upon him again. It hadn’t happened in quite awhile, but I knew without asking that he’d become depressed. He did it without warning and often without reason. I watched out for it, so I could help him. I stood, brushed myself off, and walked over to him. I pulled him to his feet and wrapped my arms around him. Nick cried on my shoulder. I could feel his body racked with sobs. I wished I could make all his pain go away, but it came from his past and I knew it would take time. “It’s okay, Nick. It’s okay,” I said as I held him and gently rocked him. He clung to me and cried. It was a good, long while before he quieted down. I just patiently held him, told him I loved him, and showed him I loved him by being there. “What’s wrong, Nicky?” I asked.

“I was thinking about my dad,” he said quietly. Nick looked into my eyes, looking so sweet and innocent. “There’s something I didn’t tell you — something that happened before I ran away.” Fear rose in my chest. I was afraid of what he was going to tell me. I knew it must be bad to have upset him so. “Sometimes, after he found out I liked boys...” Nick’s words were terrifying me. I prayed they weren’t going where they seemed to be. “Sometimes he hit me. He’d do it for no reason. He’d just punch me and tell me it was because I was a fag, that he didn’t want a son who was a fag.” Nick cried some more. I knew that must have been terrible for him, but I was relieved it wasn’t quite as bad as I’d feared. I was afraid he was going to tell me his dad had molested him, or something. Getting hit wasn’t nearly as bad as that, but it was bad enough. “The night I ran away...” said Nick, through his tears. “Dad came into my room while I was studying. He told me how disappointed he was in me, that I’d turned out to be a little queer. He said he was ashamed of me, that he didn’t want anyone to know I was his son. He got mad, like I deliberately wanted to be gay to hurt him or something. He started hitting me, but it wasn’t like the times before. He just kept on hitting me. I hit him back and then he really beat me. He was punching me in the face, the stomach, everywhere. Mom came in. She saw it, but she didn’t do anything to stop it. She didn’t even say anything. She just let him beat me. I hit him back

when I could, but he was a lot bigger than me. Finally, I got away from him. I ran out of my room and out of the house.” I listened carefully. Nick had never told me any of this before. I’d always wondered, but I’d never asked. I figured he’d tell me when he was ready. Now that he’d started talking about it, he kept going. I think he needed to get it off his chest. “I made it to a phone booth a few blocks away. I called a teen runaway hotline number. I’d looked it up on the internet days and days before. I’d memorized it in case I had to run away. They helped me. They told me where I could go and be safe. I went straight there, and they took care of me. The rest isn’t really important, but that night I left home and never went back. I know I should be happy that I have good parents now, and I am... but sometimes I remember and it hurts.” Nick started crying again and I held him. I didn’t tell him not to cry. He needed to cry. He needed to let it out. I couldn’t even imagine how much it must have hurt to have his parents tell him they didn’t love him. I knew the beating his father had given him must’ve been terrible, but it was nothing compared to him telling Nick that he was ashamed of him and that he didn’t want anyone to know he was his son. Physical wounds heal; the emotional ones are much harder to deal with. Ethan saw us when he walked past the barn. He knew something was wrong. He knew about Nick’s moods, and the pain of his past. He walked over. Nick looked

up and his crying slowed. Ethan held out his arms and Nick ran to him and hugged him tight. I was glad Ethan was there. I helped Nick all I could, but sometimes he needed a father and not a boyfriend. “It’s okay, Nick,” said Ethan, holding him tight. “You’re safe, and you know we love you very much.” “I love you too, daddy,” said Nick. He squeezed Ethan so tight I wondered if he’d break his ribs. Ethan looked at me and smiled as he comforted his son. He was a wonderful father. He motioned to me with his head and I joined him and Nick in their hug. When we parted, Nick had stopped crying. I knew it wasn’t the end of his troubles, but at least Nick knew he was valued and loved. I knew he’d be okay in time. Ethan mussed his hair and Nick smiled at him. Ethan left us to ourselves, and we hugged a little more. Nick seemed a lot better after that. I was glad. I hated to see him in pain. The rest of the day passed so quickly that I felt I’d just arrived when it suddenly was time to go. I would’ve stayed just to be with Nick, but he was fine once more and I’d promised to mow the lawn when I got home. I gave Nick a final hug and kiss and made sure he was okay. I rode my bike back to Graymoor and pulled out the mower without even going inside. I started it up and began pushing it over the tall grass. Somehow mowing my own lawn wasn’t as fun as work on the farm. I think mainly it was because Nick wasn’t there. I didn’t mind it though. Something weird had happened to me. I had actually developed a

fondness for physical labor. Maybe Ethan had rubbed off on me, or maybe I’d realized that it helped me to slim down and firm up. I sighed. Nick got on me all the time for worrying so much about my appearance. He said he loved me just as I was, and he meant it. I still couldn’t help myself. I wanted to look better. I guess that was okay, as long as I didn’t take it to extremes. I didn’t starve myself anymore. I watched what I ate, but I didn’t go overboard with trying to lose weight. I grinned. It sure made me feel good to know that Nick loved me, pudginess and all. I loved the smell of newly mown grass. It smelled like summer. I also liked to watch the grass appear from under the mower as I passed over it. It was all shaggy in front of the mower, but looked like a living carpet after I’d cut it. I skirted around the flowerbeds and the massive trees. My parents had done a lot of work landscaping, and Graymoor was looking more and more like a home, instead of something out of a bad haunted house movie. I grabbed a quick shower after I’d finished mowing, then headed to the kitchen for a drink. After gulping down a glass of iced tea, I decided I’d have a look around for more of Will’s diary. I had a sneaking suspicion that Avery had found more and hadn’t shown it to me. If I managed to find a part, maybe I could trade it to him. I was still quite eager to discover more about the life of William Graymoor. I felt like I was participating in a scavenger hunt as I looked around Graymoor for more of the journal. I

found lots of things while looking, and sometimes it distracted me. In the drawer of an old chest I found a stereoscope and a bunch of picture cards to go with it. When viewed through the stereoscope, the images were three-dimensional. I spent a good twenty minutes looking at those before I remembered what I was supposed to be seeking. In another drawer I found some old letters, but they appeared to be just business letters written to Mr. Graymoor and weren’t very interesting. I was beginning to think it was going to be another dead-end when I suddenly stumbled upon a bit of the journal hidden away in the bottom of a drawer, in the very same chest where I’d found the letters. As I was pulling it out, I noticed another sheet barely visible lying under the drawer itself. I sat down and immediately read them both. September 4, 1871 Edward has explained a great many things to me. He has set my mind at ease. So much of what I’d feared was not true. Edward told me that he often did what I did in bed at night, and he guessed that most other boys did it too. He also explained the white milky stuff to me. I was so terribly embarrassed. I feel like an ignorant child in so many things. My father had never explained anything to me about how babies came to be. I knew they were not brought by a stork, but I had never been quite sure how they ended up in a woman’s tummy. What Ed told me made sense and

I believed him. His father’s library had a great many books. Ed told me he’d read most of what he was telling me, so I knew it had to be true. Ed and I often crept to some deserted and distant room of the house and kissed each other. We’d done it every day since that first. Ed explained that there was more to be done between us, but when I asked him, he wasn’t able to give details. He admitted that even he did not know for sure, but felt that we’d discover it for ourselves. When we were able, we would let nature take its course and do what felt right to us. I sometimes feel a bit of shame for the way we kissed each other, and for how my body responded to that, but I love Eddie. I love him with all my heart. I know that what we do together cannot be wrong, or the love would not be there. The love was a sign that we were preceding as we should. Ed did warn me that others would not understand, and that most would see what we did as a great sin. I understood that completely. Who knows what would become of us if any found us out? It was our greatest secret, one we’d have to carry to our graves. Despite the fear of discovery, I lived in joy. I felt as if I’d been lonely all my life, then suddenly found myself loved. Eddie did love me and I love him with all my heart and all my soul. We were meant to be together, and somehow I knew we

always would be. Not even death would part us one from the other. I smiled. Will’s love for Edward reminded me so much of my own for Nick. I felt as if we were kindred spirits. I thought about how much more difficult things must have been for them so long ago. Not once had I read the word “gay” in the journal. It seemed as if the words to describe the relationship between Will and Ed didn’t even exist back then. No wonder Will had felt such guilt. Before Ed, there was no one to tell him that what he was feeling was okay. Edward seemed almost a miracle for his time. He must have been very strong of heart to have had such a positive outlook. He must have been very secure to forge his own path through something that most of those living in his time wouldn’t even name. I was so glad he and William had found each other. Will needed Edward badly, and I’m sure Ed needed Will’s love too. I read the other journal page I’d found, eager to see what else the Graymoors had experienced in their time. September 15, 1871 Ed and I have taken to sneaking away late every afternoon to a quiet place in the woods. Being together as we wish in the house is just too risky. For the last few days we’ve met in our own special little place to make love. Just kissing Eddie is wonderful. I love when he holds me in his arms and

I have to remember not to crush him with my own. I love him so much that I just can’t help squeezing him hard. The kissing is wonderful, but we’ve discovered so much more. I think what I like best is when we slowly undress each other, revealing each other’s naked body just a little at a time. Doing so makes me breathe hard and makes my manhood stand straight up. I never dreamed some of the things that Ed and I do together, but the pleasure it brings us is beyond words. We become almost like wild animals when we writhe against each other on the grass. His naked skin feels so good against mine. His hardness feels so good against me, and even better when it is inside me. It makes me feel like I’m one with Ed. Sometimes I still feel a wave of shame at the things we do together, but then how can it be wrong? I love Ed and that’s all that matters. I think perhaps it would truly be wrong if we were blood relatives, but as I’m adopted we aren’t truly brothers at all. In any case, if others were to judge us, I think the fact that we are both males would strike them the hardest. I’ve almost never even heard of such things spoken. When they are, they are called “unspeakable". I think those that say such things know nothing of what they speak. I know, because I’ve done it with Ed, and I know it’s right.

“Whoa,” I thought to myself, “what’s this? Nineteenth century porn?” Will’s words were so elegant; there wasn’t a vulgarity among them, but the picture he painted was one of intense and wild sex. To be honest, reading about him and Edward was getting me a little hot. I almost felt in need of a cold shower... or better yet, Nick. I had a photo of Will and Ed in my bedroom and it revealed nothing of the passion between them. One would never have guessed just looking at it that they were lovers, let alone the things they’d done together in the woods. I bet that no one in their time ever guessed about them either. What must it have been like, to live in a time when their love was so forbidden? The anti-gay segments of society in the present were nothing compared to those in the past. In their time, I imagined most everyone was anti-gay, racist, and bigoted — yet nowadays, it was only the foolish and narrow-minded. Most people now accepted it at the very least. The Religious right might not like to acknowledge it, but being gay had become more accepted and was growing more so by the day. It was not so, back in the 1870’s. I smiled mischievously to myself. Not only did I have something to trade with Avery, I had something that would torment him too. He’d totally freak when he read about Will and Ed getting it on! Even if he hadn’t found any more of the journal, I’d still give him what I had. It would be worth it just to see the look on his face when he read it.

Avery I felt like someone was messing with my mind, and I didn’t like it, not at all. I’d always had these ideas about queers, but Will was upsetting that. Who was he, anyway? Why did I even pay attention to someone who had lived over a century ago? And why the fuck did I care? Maybe there were a few similarities between us, but what did it matter? Will was a fag, and that made us very different. “Hey, Avery.” I looked up. It was Sean, smirking at me. He was definitely someone I did not want to see. He was holding yellowed papers in his hand. He’d found more of the journal. The question was, did I care? “I’ve got something to trade. I suppose you’ve found more of the journal by now.” “Maybe I have.” “Well, if you have, I’ll let you look at mine for a look at yours.” “You make it sound perverted,” I told him, thinking I was quite clever. “Shut up, Avery. You’re the one who made it perverted. I’m talking about the journal, not your little prick. So you want to trade or not?” My first instinct was to tell him to go fuck himself, but then he probably would. I thought about the bit of

the diary I’d found. It was the section about Will and Ed being found out and becoming virtual slaves. Now that I thought about it, I wanted Sean to read that. He’d hate it, and that was worth something. “Why not?” I said. “Come on.” I led him to my room and dug out the journal entry I’d stuck in a drawer. We traded and Sean departed. I sat down and read the two entries he’d given me. I didn’t like what I read in the first one. It was written before the last bit I’d found and was just about Will being in love with Ed. “Disgusting,” I said as I read the second entry. It was all about Will having sex with Edward. It was fag stuff and I hated it. I bet Sean was having a good laugh at my expense. He knew I’d hate reading that shit. The joke was on him too, though, because he’d enjoy reading what I’d given him even less. Man, those dudes were just sick. They did the most disgusting and perverted things. It was even worse because Will had the gall to call it ‘love.’ It wasn’t love! Two guys couldn’t love each other! It was nothing more than sex, perverted sex between two guys. It made me wanna hurl. The more I thought about it, the more angry I became. I threw the journal into a drawer and stormed out of my room and down the stairs. I was angry and needed to release some stress. I knew just how I could do it too. I left the house and went in search of Shane.

*** The light was growing dim by the time I managed to find Shane. I was beginning to think I’d have to wait until another day to torment him, but at last, I saw him leaving the little burger joint across from the park. I closed in on him and came up behind him, smacking him hard in the head, causing him to drop his ice cream cone in the dirt. “Hey, fag,” I said. He didn’t answer. I crooked my finger at him. “Come with me,” I said. Shane had a look of terror in his eyes, but he had no choice but to do as I said, so he followed me glumly down the sidewalk. I got off on the power I held over him. There was an almost sensual pleasure to it. I’d nearly decided to just leave him alone. I was so glad I’d come to my senses. He was just a fag after all, there just to be my entertainment. “I guess you’ve had time to think about the things I can make you do.” “Yes,” he said meekly. I hated his meek attitude. I glared at him. “Yes, sir,” he said. “Say it like you have balls!” I yelled at him. “Yes, sir!”

Shane was trembling with fear. He was right to do so. I led him to the edge of town. He balked as I started to lead him into the woods. “Come on, queer,” I told him. “If you don’t do what I say, we’re goin’ straight to your parents and have a little chat with them.” “No, please, don’t!” he cried. “Then come on.” He followed me. He was a little fool. I was bigger than him. Didn’t he know I could have been taking him into the woods to kill him? I wasn’t, but he didn’t know that, and yet he followed me, walking to what could have been his own death. Fool. When we were deep in the woods, I turned to him. There were tears in his eyes and he was trembling. I hated him for being a queer, so weak and vulnerable. I hated him for crying. I punched him in the stomach and watched as he went down. Feeling my fist make contact with his belly was satisfying. It felt good. I pulled him up by the collar of his shirt and punched him again. He doubled-up in pain. I dropped down on him and forced him onto his back. “You sicken me,” I told him. “All you fags make me sick. You leer at us normal boys, undress us with your eyes. You’re weak and pathetic. If you had any sense or pride at all you’d blow your fuckin’ brains out! Don’t you know that everyone hates you? Don’t you realize that everyone wants you dead?”

Shane was bawling. I think my words hurt him more than the punches to the gut. I slapped him hard in the face, then got up and gave him a good kick in the stomach. I wanted to beat him, just like I had Ryan, but I couldn’t risk it. I was on probation and my ass would be tossed into juvenile detention if I got caught doing anything like that. If I just let myself go, I might lose control and do some real damage. I might even accidentally kill him, and I didn’t want to deal with that again. So, I contented myself with blows to the stomach and a slap to the face that left no marks. Even if the little fairy wanted to get me in trouble, he’d have no proof. I leaned down and pulled his head up by the hair. “If they ask, you tell your parents you got into a fight,” I whispered. “If you tell anyone I was the one who beat you up, I’ll fuckin’ kill you — understand?” He nodded his head. He was sobbing so hard he couldn’t even speak. I shoved him back to the dirt and walked away. As I walked back up the hill, I started feeling better than I had in weeks. It was just too bad it wasn’t legal to kill the little fuckers. *** It was dark before I made it back to Graymoor. The house looked so spooky in the night, especially with a full moon out. It was creepy as I walked in the front door, and made my way upstairs to my room. As I neared, I thought I heard whispers, but perhaps it was

just the wind. I caught a glimpse of something that was a very bright white as I entered the room, but it was so fleeting, I wasn’t sure I’d seen it at all. I must not have, for it was there one moment, and not the next. When I turned on the light, there was a paper laying on my bed. I picked it up. It was another part of the journal. Sean must have left it there. September 30, 1871 Hate is a horrible thing. It is as terrible as love is wonderful. Even so, I cannot help but hating Andrew. He glories in making Edward and I suffer. It would be understandable to a point if either of us had mistreated him. The fact is, we have not. Our interaction with him has been slight, but always cordial. Not once did either Edward or I do him the least injustice, or insult, or mistreat him in any way. There is no reason for his treatment of us. I fear he is merely tormenting us simply because he can. Perhaps there is some imagined slight, or perhaps Andrew thinks it is permissible to treat us so, because we are boys that dare to love each other. Whatever his reason, it is wrong. I believe that he is merely cruel in nature. Curiously, he does not look so. Andrew is rather handsome in his way. He may be handsome on the outside, but he is the nothing but ugly within. I cannot believe what has happened to my life. Almost daily Andrew appears, playing the part of

loyal friend in front of the Graymoors, only to torment Edward and me at the first opportunity. I hate it when he is in our house. I hate it when he makes us go home with him. Andrew no longer has need to do any of his own chores, for Ed and I are forced to do them for him. Most of it isn’t so bad really, but it is degrading to be forced into doing them by such a mean-spirited boy. Lately, Andrew has not been content to have us do his work for him. He is far more abusive than that. He has taken to tormenting us without reason. He is careful to leave no marks that are not covered by clothing, but that leaves most of our bodies for him to abuse. Yesterday, he punched Ed hard in the stomach, as hard as he could. I had to fight from crying as Ed doubled over in pain. I also had to fight to keep myself from ripping Andrew to pieces for it. Andrew punched me hard in the stomach too, but I knew enough to tighten the muscles there. It still hurt badly, but not as it could have done. Andrew delights in pushing one or the other of us down, to sit upon us and pummel us with his fists. I have bruises all over my chest and back, my arms and legs too. Clothed I look untouched, but naked I look as if I’ve been beaten savagely. What hurts more than the pain of being beaten, is watching Edward have to experience it, too. Everything is multiplied beyond belief when I have to watch helpless as the one I love is beaten and

punished so unfairly. It is more than my heart can take. I try not to weep, but it is hard. I fear letting Andrew know that watching Edward get hurt causes me pain — for if he knows, he will do it more. I clinched the paper so hard in my hands it was wadding up. I was so angry I was about to explode. Only when I looked down at my bed did I notice something else was there. It was a very old photo, a portrait. I stared at it open mouthed. I could not believe my eyes. Moments seemed to stretch into centuries as I looked at it lying there. It had to be more than a hundred years old, but it was a photo of... of me. I turned it over and written on the back, with an old fashioned pen, was a single word, “Andrew.” The shock of it was too much to bear. It could not be, but it was. It was some trick of Sean’s. I just knew it. He had gone too far. “Sean!” I screamed at the top of my voice. “Sean!” I went in search of him, carrying the paper and the photo. I’d get to the bottom of this if I had to beat the living shit outta him to learn the truth. It didn’t take me long to find him. He was in his room with the boy, Marshall. I was trembling with rage. I couldn’t even speak. I just launched myself at Sean and attacked. My fists flew, so did his. The force of my attack sent us both to the floor. We flailed at one another, locked in a deadly fight. I wanted nothing

more than to beat him senseless, perhaps to death. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as weak as he appeared; he fought pretty well for a fag. In fact, he was starting to hurt me with his punches. I hated him all the more for it. After Sean and I rolled around the floor for about a minute, Marshall pulled me off Sean. Sean tried to come after me, but Marshall warded him off with one hand. Marshall pushed us away from each other. “That’s enough!” he yelled. Sean and I glared at each other, both panting. All I wanted was to get my hands on him again. “What was that all about, asshole?” asked Sean angrily “About this!” I said, shaking the journal and photo in his face. “Don’t tell me you don’t know anything about this!” I threw them down on the bed and Sean picked them up. He looked first at the photo and his eyes grew wide. “Holy shit!” he said. Marshall rushed over to him. “Damn!” he said, looking from the photo to me and back again. Both of them seemed shocked, but it had to just be an act. “Where did you find this?” asked Sean. “Oh, like you don’t know,” I retorted. “Like you didn’t leave it on my bed.” “I didn’t!”

“Liar.” He sighed. “Avery, I think you’re probably the biggest jerk I’ve ever met, but I promise you, I didn’t leave this on your bed. I’ve never seen it before. And I’m not a liar.” He sounded sincere, but I didn’t believe him. “Uh-huh.” He paced back and forth, waving his hands angrily. “Yeah, that’s right, Avery. I’m lying! I left it on your bed. Not only that, I made this picture of you. See, what I did was, I knocked you out, then dressed you in oldfashioned clothes, then taped your eyes open and took a picture. Or maybe I just got out the time travel machine I keep in my pocket, took you back in time, had your picture taken, then brought you back without you knowing anything about it. Dumb ass,” said Sean sarcastically. I didn’t know what to say. “Even if he did leave it on your bed, what would it matter?” said Marshall. “Look at the photo. They haven’t taken photos like that in more than a hundred years! Look at the toning, where it’s yellowed from aging. See how it’s getting brittle, too? No matter how it got to you, it’s real. This isn’t some cheap fake made on a computer.” I was getting frightened, because Marshall was making sense. Sean might well be lying, but I had to agree with Marshall, even if I didn’t want to do so.

“Why does he look like me?” I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. “Coincidence?” said Sean doubtfully, then turned to Marshall. “It could be he is you,” said Marshall, staring first at the photo, then at my face. “You’re on drugs,” I said. “Well, you’ve heard of reincarnation, right?” “Yeah, but...” I stopped and shook my head. “No way! That’s just bullshit!” “Do you know that for sure?” asked Marshall thoughtfully. “Do you know what happens after you die?” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not going to go Shirley MacLaine on me are you?” I said. It was all I could think to say. I could hardly claim that I knew about life after death. “First of all, Shirley MacLaine is brilliant,” said Marshall. “She’s one of the few people who really understands Einstein’s theories of non-linear time.” “Don’t get him started on Shirley MacLaine,” said Sean, grinning. “He loves her books.” “Okay — so anyway, what about this reincarnation?” I asked. Marshall took a deep breath. “Reincarnation is the belief that we live not just one life, but several. The goal of each life is to learn. You could well have been living another life back when this photo was taken, so

in a sense, it really is you. I don’t really think we look the same in every life, but maybe you liked this look, and decided you wanted to look this way again.” “There’s no accounting for taste,” said Sean, making a face. “You shut up!” I snapped. “Some believe that we choose the lives we lead, and the events in them. Maybe you chose to look the same so that you’d recognize yourself. Maybe you were meant to realize that you were this boy in a previous life. Maybe you have something to learn from him.” “You really believe in that bullshit?” I snorted. “Let me put it this way,” said Marshall. “Do you really think it’s that much more unbelievable that you could live many lives instead of just one? When you think about it, one life is pretty miraculous. We all take it for granted because there are so many of us, but isn’t each person a miracle? Once you realize that, living multiple lives isn’t that much of a stretch. Do you really think you just disappear or something after you die? I know for a fact that you don’t. Sean here does, too.” “What do you mean?” I asked suspiciously. “That’s kind of a long story,” said Sean. “I’ll tell you sometime if you want. Maybe.” I looked at him strangely. “Anyway,” said Marshall, “you can believe what you want, but I personally think that the boy in this picture is you.”

I didn’t know what to say. I picked up the picture and left, leaving the section of the journal behind for Sean to read. I didn’t think I wanted to read it again, anyway. That fag shit made me sick to my stomach. I was beginning to hate Andrew, and myself.

Sean Avery left exasperated, and I could well understand why. I think maybe I would’ve been freaked out if I were him. Marshall and I just looked at each other. “You didn’t put that photo on his bed, did you? asked Marshall. “No.” “Well, I’m not even going to ask if you faked it, because I know you couldn’t have,” he said. “That’s sure true. You didn’t put it on his bed, did you?” “No.” “I didn’t think you did, because you’d have told me. It does sound like something we’d do to Avery, though.” “Yeah,” said Marshall, “if we had found that photo somewhere, I’m sure we would’ve arranged for him to get it. But we would’ve been a lot more clever than just leaving it on his bed. I mean, he’s always looking for parts of Will’s journal, so it wouldn’t have been hard to put it somewhere he’d be sure to find it. It might have taken him awhile, but he would’ve stumbled on it eventually.” “So, how do you think that photo got there? I didn’t put it there, and you didn’t. I don’t think Avery

would’ve found it somewhere and then acted like we put it on his bed. That just wouldn’t make sense.” “True. And besides, he was furious, and scared. No one is that good of an actor. Plus, he’d have no motive for it.” “So that eliminates us all. I’m sure Mom or Dad wouldn’t have done it. I’ll ask just to make sure, but I know they wouldn’t have. If they found it and wanted him to see it, they’d have just shown it to him.” “I think Mark or Taylor did it,” said Marshall quietly. Mark and Taylor were the reason Marshall and I knew that life didn’t end with death. They’d died nearly twenty years ago, but we’d seen them and even talked to them, only a few weeks before. I know a lot of people would think we were crazy if we told them, but it was true. Both of them were gay, too — or had been when they were alive. I didn’t know if there was a gay, bi, or straight after death. Anyway, they would definitely have wanted to teach Avery a lesson. It was people like him that had led to their deaths. “I think you may be right,” I said. “I wish we could find out for sure.” “Me, too.” We stood there in silence for a few moments. “Okay, enough talk about who put the photo on Avery’s bed,” I said. “What do you think about the photo? It looks so much like him it’s scary!”

“I think it is him. I think that is a picture of Avery in a previous life. I really do.” “It did look exactly like him. There wasn’t just a resemblance. Whoever it is could be Avery’s identical twin.” “Definitely,” said Marshall. The photo was beyond weird. We both found it more exciting and interesting than frightening, however. After all, it wasn’t a photo that looked just like us. As far as I was concerned, Avery deserved whatever fright came to him. “Oh man, no wonder he’s so upset,” I said as I began reading the journal entry Avery had left behind. “What?” asked Marshall. “Just listen to this.” I told him, then read the entry out loud. It had some horrible things to say about this ‘Andrew’ character, and that was the name written on the back of the photo. Will’s journal had mentioned Andrew before. I was sure it was the same one. If Andrew was Avery in a previous life, he had been even more despicable then than he was now. I’d have been ashamed of the link if I was Avery. I was sad to read how William and Edward had been found out, and how Andrew had blackmailed them. Well... sad doesn’t really describe how I felt. What I was feeling was much worse than that. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how horrible it must have been for them. Being outed in their time must have been a nightmare. It could have some pretty serious

consequences even now, but in their time, for all I knew, they’d burn them at the stake. After reading about what Andrew was doing to them, I was almost afraid to go in search of more of Will’s journal. I was fearful of what I might discover.

Avery I returned to my room and stared at the photo of Andrew again. It was almost like looking in a mirror. It was freaky and frightening, but oddly interesting too. Now that my initial anger had faded, I began to think more clearly. My first instinct had been to blame Sean, but that’d been stupid. Maybe he had put the photo on my bed and maybe he hadn’t. It didn’t really matter. No matter how it got there, it was definitely real. I knew that photos could be faked with a computer. There were guys out there who could manipulate a couple of photos and make it look like they were standing next to Marilyn Monroe. This wasn’t a computer image, however — it was a real photo. It obviously hadn’t come out of some printer somewhere, either. It was the real thing. It was over a hundred years old. The question was, why did it look exactly like me? I was frightened. I knew I couldn’t just shrug this off as coincidence. Too many things were adding up. When I’d first come to Graymoor, I’d instinctively known where the library was, and I’d known about the entrance to the secret passage in the library — even how to open it. I didn’t tell Sean, but I had an overwhelming feeling that I’d been in that room before. Parts of Graymoor felt oddly familiar. I’d never even been to Indiana before I came to live with Sean’s family, but I could swear I’d been in that house before.

There were even places in town that seemed oddly familiar. It had bothered me enough that I’d even gone to the library to read up on déjà vu. Some shrink said that it’s often caused by the two sides of the brain working somewhat independently. Sometimes there was a memory of having been somewhere before, or having done something before, but it was merely the information being processed by one side of the brain, then the other. The memory of being somewhere before, or doing something before, was an illusion. It was a memory of a fraction of a second before — not years and years. Once I’d read that, I thought that explained what I’d experienced in Graymoor. The odd thing was, I couldn’t remember experiencing déjà vu before coming to Indiana. The dreams I’d been having went against the déjà vu theory. I was dreaming about stuff in the journal before it happened — or rather, before I read it. It was stuff about Will, however, and not Andrew, so that only confused me more. The picture was the real clincher. It fit in too neatly with what I’d been dreaming and experiencing. I clasped my hands around my knees as I sat on my bed. I felt very afraid and insecure. That Marshall boy was a real freak, but the things he said made sense. I didn’t want them to make sense, but they did. Could I really have been Andrew in a previous life? The mere thought was disturbing.

I’d become disgusted with Will when I found out he was “one of those," but I still felt oddly attached to him. He was so much like me. He was an orphan in a strange place. Reading his journal had allowed me access to his innermost thoughts. So much of what he thought and felt was familiar. I almost felt as if we were the same person. Maybe that’s why I’d been so upset to find out what he was. I didn’t want him to be that way. I’d thought of him as a friend and I wanted him to be straight, not a queer. I thought I’d tossed Will out of my life. I’d really had no intention of looking for more of his journal, but when I found more of it lying on my bed, I just couldn’t resist reading it. I didn’t derive any enjoyment from it. I felt pity for Will, and anger at Andrew. It was like Will was a friend of mine in pain. I thought I’d broken the tie with him, but it seemed I had not. Andrew was his tormentor. He was evil and cruel. While reading the journal entry, my disgust had turned from Will to him. How could he do something so horrible? How could he enslave William and Edward like that? He was a lowlife, a filthy lowlife. I started to cry. What if I had been him in a previous life? What if it was me that had done such a horrible thing? Was what was happening to me now a punishment for that? Had I been raped by Dave and beaten and robbed by Michael and his buddies as payment for something I’d done in a previous life? Were the ghosts punishing me, or was it God himself?

I cried more as a realization occurred to me. Even if the whole reincarnation idea was wrong, was I that different from Andrew? I felt as if his actions were a mirror held to my face to show me how ugly I truly was. Wasn’t I just as bad as him? Hadn’t I done things just as repugnant, just as vile? “Yesssss.” I jumped as I clearly heard a single word whispered in my ear. At the same moment, I felt something cold as ice touch me. It wasn’t something physical, more like a cold breeze, only there was no breeze in the room. I looked all around, but there was nothing there. The hair on the back of my neck was standing on end. My heart beat wildly in my chest. I looked at the door. It was closed and locked, as was the window. No one was in the room with me. No one had been there moments before either. There was no way someone could’ve come and gone in an instant without even opening the door. I shuddered. I didn’t really believe in ghosts, but some weird shit had been happening to me. I’d seen things I couldn’t explain, and now this. I knew what I’d heard. Someone had whispered “yes” right in my ear and it couldn’t have been anyone living. I shivered. I was more afraid than I ever had been before. Even life on the street hadn’t prepared me for this.

Sean I had just awakened when there was a knock at my door. “Yeah, come in,” I said. I was surprised to see it was Avery. “Uh, if you have some time, I was wondering if you wanted to look for more of that journal.” Avery seemed...different. He was more pleasant than he had been, that was for sure. “I have to go to work later, but I’ve got an hour or so to spare.” “Great,” said Avery. I wasn’t feeling overly friendly toward Avery, but at least he was making an effort. That was something. I could at least meet him halfway. But if he made any more comments about gay boys deserving to be beaten to death, I was gonna beat the shit out of him. If he was civil, I’d try to get along. I got up and dressed, then we went in search of more of Will’s hidden diary. Most of my recent searches for the journal had been fruitless. Those that did yield something usually took hours, but that wasn’t at all surprising. I was rather surprised that we’d found so much of it, and that the search hadn’t been a lot harder. The only time the search was really easy was when pages mysteriously appeared from out of nowhere.

Avery and I had good luck hunting together that morning, and came up with a bit more of the journal after only a half hour of searching. When we found it, we both eagerly sat down to read it together. November 18, 1871 I have little time to write in my journal. I’m commanded to spend nearly every spare moment doing the bidding of Andrew. He grows daily more demanding and abusive. He is utterly drunk with power. When I am in his presence, it is unbearable. I am ill at ease even away from him, knowing that I belong to him. I cannot believe the unfairness of life. Why should Edward and I be made to suffer so at the hands of someone so evil? Our only sin is loving someone of our own sex, and that is no sin at all. I do not look upon what is happening to us as a punishment from God, for I feel in my heart that it is not He who disapproves of us, but cruel beings like Andrew. It is unfair that we should suffer, but others suffer unfairly, too — all for the love that dare not speak its name. Should the poor go hungry because they are poor? Should the weak be controlled by the strong? I think not, and yet these things happen all the time. I believe everything happens for a reason and I’m coming to believe that Edward and I are here to teach Andrew a lesson. We are innocents being cruelly mistreated at the hands of Andrew. I

nearly pity him when the day of reckoning comes for him, for all that he has done to us will come back upon him. In the end, he is only tormenting himself. I dearly wish that Eddie and I were not the instruments of Andrew’s education. If, after death, we’re told we need to spend time in purgatory (if there is such a horrid place), then I believe we can justly say that we’ve already done our time. Despite all that is happening to us, my love for Edward has not faltered. In fact, quite the opposite has happened. I love him more with every day that passes, despite the acts of violence and humiliation visited upon us — or perhaps even because of them. Eddie tells me that he loves me more and more with each of these acts, too. I believe him, for I know it’s true. Our suffering has only served to strengthen our resolve and intensify our love. Andrew controls us, but he will not break us, or tear us apart. He controls our bodies and our actions, but he will never control our spirits. I looked over at Avery. He was softly sobbing. I didn’t understand at all, but I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. “Hey, hey — Avery, what’s the matter?” He cried a little harder, his shoulders moving up and down. I had no idea why, but the journal had upset him. I would’ve thought he’d enjoy reading about gay boys

being abused. I was the one who should have been crying. In a way, I thought of William and Edward as my friends, and it was troubling to read about them being treated like shit. “How could he do that to them?” asked Avery. I thought it an odd question for him. I shook my head sadly. “I don’t know. Why is anyone cruel to someone else? Besides, why do you even care?” When Avery turned to face me, I could tell I’d hurt him. I hadn’t meant to do so, but I had. “I care,” he said. I felt that he wanted to say more, but couldn’t for some reason. He was being very peculiar. “I think I want to be alone now. I’ll see you later, though, Sean.” “Okay. I think I’ll grab something to eat before I go.” “Sean,” said Avery, grabbing my arm as I got up to leave, “listen... I’m sorry for the things I’ve said and the way I’ve been.” Again, there seemed to be more Avery wanted to say, but he couldn’t. His apology took me by surprise. I was shocked. I didn’t know how to react, but he was sincere. “It’s all right,” I said in a halting voice. Avery smiled slightly. I had the distinct impression he wanted to hug me, but he didn’t. I went to the kitchen, and left Avery sitting alone.

I was almost sure that the fun Nick and I had tormenting Avery was over. We’d had such a good time making out in front of him. No matter what we were doing, we made sure we found someway to mess with Avery’s mind. Even if it was nothing more than me telling Nick he had a nice ass, or the two of us commenting on how hot some guy on television was, we found a way to torment Avery for being such a dick. Once, when we heard him coming down the hall, Nick quickly dropped to his knees in front of me and unzipped my jeans. Avery looked in my room as he passed and was totally freaked-out by what he saw... or rather, by what he thought he saw. I, on the other hand, was completely aroused. Nick and I laughed our heads off at the way Avery scowled at us and hurried to get away. If this morning was any indication, his nasty attitude had gone as suddenly as it had come. He must’ve been screwed up even worse than I thought. *** I kept thinking about Avery as I pedaled my bike out to the farm. He was definitely being weird. At least life was interesting with him around. He was quite unpredictable. The day wasn’t quite so hot as the previous days. It was a good thing, too, because Ethan asked me and Nick to help him and Nathan work on the drainage

ditch. It hadn’t been tended in some time and needed to be dug out. Ethan and Nathan had been hard at it for days and still weren’t done. The four of us together would make faster progress. Nick and I changed into old swimsuits before we started. When we arrived at the ditch I understood why Ethan had suggested we wear them. We’d be standing right in the water a good deal of the time while we were digging. It was hard work, but a lot of fun really. I loved standing in the clear, cool water. Well, it wasn’t so clear once we started digging. We made it all muddy, but it was still fun. I was all hot and sweaty in no time at all, but I didn’t mind. Nick and I kept splashing each other now and then, and that helped us to cool off. Our task for the day was kind of a cross between digging and swimming. It was kind of fun to have a job I could do in my swimsuit. Working around shirtless guys made for some good scenery too. I was a little self-conscious with my shirt off, as always, but I was doing better. Nick talked to me a lot about my “body image.” He thought that everyone spent too much time fretting over the way they looked. It was the fault of the media. Magazines, television, and all kinds of catalogs were always pushing images of impossibly hot guys with bulging biceps, perfect pecs, gorgeous faces, and rock-hard abs. So much of that crap was thrown in our faces that it made guys like me think we were inferior or something. The truth was, not one

guy in a hundred looked like that. Most guys were more like me—just plain lookin’ dudes with far from perfect bodies. That’s what I was working hard to remember. Most guys didn’t look like Abercrombie & Fitch models. They were the exception, not the rule. Even Ethan, who was the hottest guy I’d ever seen in my life, didn’t live up to the Abercrombie & Fitch ideal, at least not always. He had bad hair days and sometimes he just didn’t look as hot as usual. I was glad Nick spelled a few things out for me. It gave me a new perspective and made me feel a lot better about myself. Not far away on either side was row after row of corn. It was growing fast and would soon tower over all our heads. Standing in the ditch, it completely hid us from view. It was like standing in a narrow valley. The breeze still managed to find us and I was glad of that. It was refreshing to feel it flowing over my sweaty body. I marveled at how things had changed. Poor William and Edward had to hide just to be able to take their shirts off. I wondered what they’d think if they saw Ethan, Nathan, Nick, and me all working shirtless in the ditch, let alone how they’d react if they saw a boy in one of those skimpy Speedo swimsuits that almost weren’t there. I bet their eyes would’ve bugged out. And I couldn’t imagine what they’d think of some of the pictures of guys on the internet. Whoa. I wished that William and Edward could’ve lived in my time, instead of theirs. There were still problems today, to be sure, and we had a very long way to go, but at least things were a lot better now for guys like us. No

one had to think he was alone anymore, that he was the only boy in the world that liked other boys. There was much more openness and unity and that made it easier for us all. I was glad that William and Edward had found each other. If they hadn’t, they might have ended up living their lives alone. That would’ve been sad. I guess they could have both ended up married to women, but that might have been even worse. Either way, they wouldn’t have been free to be what they truly were. Lunchtime came quickly and I was glad. I was both hungry and tired. My muscles definitely got a workout on the farm. Nathan disappeared some time before lunch and reappeared later with sandwiches, drinks, chips, and even cookies for all of us. One thing about working on the farm was for sure, we were all well-fed. Nick made sure I ate well. He was still worried that I’d go too far in my attempts to lose weight. He didn’t have much to worry about. I was gonna take it slow. I wanted to cut off a little fat, but I wasn’t in a big hurry anymore. Even if I never succeeded, it didn’t really matter. I’d learned there were lots of ways to look good. We went right back to work after lunch. It always amazed me how Ethan went at it. It was almost as if he were remembering his days as a high school wrestler and any task before him was an opponent. He was always telling the rest of us to pace ourselves and not work too hard, but he almost never followed his own advice. I marveled at how hard he could work without even breathing hard.

We quit in the early evening. All of us were muddy, sweaty, and just plain smelly. We went back to the house to clean up. While we were waiting for our turn in the shower, Nick and I talked in his room. We were too wet and muddy to sit down on anything without creating a mess, so we stood by the window and talked. “Avery has been acting really bizarre lately,” I said. “What’s he done this time?” I shook my head in disbelief. “He’s been... nice.” “Nice? Oh, now that is weird for him! Maybe he’s ill.” We both laughed at that. “This morning, he came looking for me,” I said. “I could tell he was making a real effort to be nice to me. Then later, he apologized for all the things he’s been saying.” “You think he’s up to something?” Nick asked. “No, I don’t. I could tell he meant it. At least I think he meant it. It was in his voice. He actually cried.” “Avery cried? I didn’t think he was capable of crying.” “Well, he is. I think he’s really sorry. It’s so unlike him, though, I’m not sure I trust him. I feel like he’s sincere, but it seems almost impossible.” “Yeah, I agree. What do you think’s goin’ on with him? “I’m not sure, but I think it has to do with Will’s journal. We’d just read another part of it when he

started crying. I’m a little worried about him. I think he might be mental or something.” “Now you’re acting bizarre,” said Nick. “Why do you say that?” “Because you’re worried about Avery!” We giggled. It was kind of funny. Nathan finally came out of the bathroom and went down to start on supper, and Nick and I promised to join him after we’d cleaned up. Ethan went back out to work on something or other. Since Ethan and Nathan were busy, we took a chance and slipped into the bathroom together. We turned on the shower and the hot water made the bathroom all steamy. We undressed, then stepped into the shower together. Nick turned to face me and I kissed him. The hot water pounded down on our naked bodies as we made out right there in the shower. We were taking quite a chance, especially with Nathan right downstairs and Ethan wandering around outside somewhere. The danger of discovery made it all the more exciting, not that it wasn’t quite exciting enough already. Nick put a bit of shampoo in my hands and I worked it into his hair. I stopped to kiss him, then lathered up his hair even more. Shampooing Nick’s beautiful blondish hair was almost like making love to him. Running a soapy washcloth over his smooth, wet skin was even more so. I was becoming so excited I didn’t know if I could stand it.

Nick and I rubbed up against each other and our hands began to roam. We were both completely aroused in seconds. I wished we could stay in the shower for hours, but we didn’t have much time. If we took longer than the space of time normally required to take two showers, Nathan might grow suspicious. Nick and I washed each other, stopping often to kiss and hold each other close. We explored each other; our hands and lips were everywhere. It was the most erotic experience of my life. Something about touching each other, with hot water pounding down upon us, made it especially sexy. By the time we were drying each other off, I was in such need of relief that I thought I might explode. Nick would’ve laughed at my predicament if he hadn’t been equally turned-on. Unfortunately, there was no time or opportunity to satisfy our mutual need. But if there had been... Mmmmm. Nick loaned me some clean clothes, we dressed and rushed downstairs to help Nathan.

Avery I sat in my room thinking. I’d been doing a lot of thinking lately. The whole thing with the photo, the journal, and the dreams had totally freaked me out. I dreamed almost every night, but I could rarely remember exactly what it was I dreamed. I knew I’d dreamed about Will; I always dreamed about him. I could remember only a bit of the dream from the night before, but it was horrible. I was standing over William and Edward, and I’d made them cry. The memory of it made me want to cry too. I desperately wished that I could stop the dreams. I felt as if Will and Eddie were being hurt all over again and I couldn’t stop it. I wanted to help them. I wanted to keep Andrew from hurting them. I tried to tell myself that it was all over and done with long ago, but for me it wasn’t over. For me, the nightmare continued. Dave was in the dreams sometimes too. In some dreams, I relived the horrible things he’d done to me. In others, I was him, doing those things to a boy who looked like me. Sometimes, I was me and Dave, doing unspeakable things to William and Edward — or to Ryan, or Shane. It was all hazy and blurred, as if I was floating around, becoming first one person, then another, experiencing everything from every point of view. The dreams were terrifying and horrible. When things were being done to me, it was humiliating and

painful; but when I was the one doing things, it was even worse. I went searching for more of the journal. I felt compelled to do so. I didn’t want to read it, but I was doomed to do so. The journal was like a mirror held up to my face, forcing me to behold my own ugliness. I was ugly; I realized that now. I’m not talking about physical appearance. If I was that kind of ugly, I could have lived with it. My ugliness was inside me. It was me. The more I dreamed and read about the terrible things that Andrew did, the more I realized my own ugliness. He derived pleasure from the pain of others, using their homosexuality as an excuse for his despicable behavior. I realized now that I’d done exactly the same thing. Was I doomed to make all the mistakes Andrew had, over a hundred years ago? I remembered Ryan back at my old school, and how I’d lured him into the woods and beaten him. I remembered Shane too. I remembered how I’d cruelly tormented him with mind games, how I’d called him names just to see how long it’d take to make him cry, and how I’m beaten him too. I was just like Andrew, and I hated myself for it. I’d blamed Ryan for my troubles, but I knew now I was wrong. I’d told myself over and over that he was the reason I ran away from home, that he was the reason my parents were dead. It wasn’t him, though — it wasn’t his fault. If I hadn’t been so blinded by prejudice and hate, I wouldn’t have beaten him. I

wouldn’t have had the fight with my parents. “I hate you!” wouldn’t have been the last thing I ever said to them. It was my fault... all mine. Dave had taken advantage of me. He’d used me and raped me. That wasn’t my fault, but it was my fault that I’d put myself in that position. My own actions had come back to bite me in the ass. The same was true of Michael. Everything had come from the way I’d treated Ryan. I’d abused him verbally and physically, using his homosexuality as an excuse. Even my very hatred of gays was just an excuse to push other boys around and call them names. I’d used it to justify my actions. When all was said and done, I was just a bully, just someone who reveled in taking advantage of others. Suddenly, everything was crystal-clear: I was just like Andrew, just like Dave. And I hated myself for it. I sat on a loveseat in a room downstairs. I could hear Sean and Nick talking and laughing in a distant room. I thought about how I’d treated them, and how I’d hated them. I’d been so wrong about everything. There was a picture sitting on the table beside me of Sean and his parents, smiling and happy. They truly loved each other. Tears welled up in my eyes. I could just imagine what my parents would think of all the horrible things I’d done, if they had still been alive. They’d be so disappointed, so ashamed. I missed them so much it hurt. I buried my head in my hands and sobbed. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jerked my head up, startled. It was Nick. I hadn’t even heard him enter the room.

“Avery—dude, what’s wrong?” Nick’s voice was filled with concern. “What do you care?” I asked him. I wasn’t being sarcastic. I just couldn’t understand why he would care. I’d been nothing but unkind to him and Sean. He had no reason to like me, no reason to care about me in the least. “I don’t like to see anyone hurting. I know what it’s like,” he said. “I feel so alone,” I said. It was the first time I’d ever admitted that out loud. “You’re not alone, Avery.” “Yes. I am. I don’t have any friends. Everybody fuckin’ hates me. My parents...” I couldn’t go on. I broke down and cried in front of Nick. He sat beside me on the loveseat and took me in his arms. I surprised myself, and him, by hugging him tightly. I bawled like a little baby on his shoulder. “They’re dead, Nick,” I said when I could get the words out. “They’re dead and I’ll never see ‘em again. Nobody loves me... nobody even gives a shit about me. And my parents are gone and they’re never coming back.” I cried some more. I’d never spoken to anyone about my parents and it all came spilling out. “The last time I saw them...” I said haltingly, sobbing louder than before, “...the last time I saw them... The last thing I said... was ‘I hate you!’ Oh my God! Oh my God! My

parents are dead and the last thing I said to them was ‘I hate you!’” My pain overwhelmed me. I was sure I could be heard all over the house. I held onto Nick and bawled my eyes out. He pulled me close and gently petted my hair as I sobbed. He held me until I grew quiet, then he spoke. “My parents didn’t want me. They threw me out. They didn’t love me anymore when they found out I was gay. They used to love me. I used to be their reason for living! When they found out about me, however, all that changed. One moment they cared for me, and loved me, the next they were telling me I wasn’t their son anymore.” Nick was crying too. I hugged him close and held him as he’d held me. I didn’t know how to comfort him, I’d never comforted anyone before, so I just held him and petted his hair as he’d done mine. It felt good to hold him and I felt my own pain begin to ebb away. I wasn’t helping him to help myself, but it happened nonetheless. Nick slowly quieted down, as he let out his pain. I kept holding him. I wanted to make him feel better. I wanted to take away the pain that was tormenting him, just as my own tormented me. “I’m sorry, Nick. I’m sorry you’re parents did that to you. They were wrong, Nick. I know they were. I don’t know you real well, but if I have a son someday, well... I’d be proud if he was as cool as you.”

“Even if he turns out to be gay?” asked Nick. I paused before answering. Not because I wasn’t sure of my answer, but because what I felt surprised even me. “Yeah. Even if he turns out to be gay, I’d still be proud of him. I’d still love him.” I wanted to help Nick so badly. I wanted to make up for some of the bad things I’d done in my life, but I also wanted to help him, just for the sake of helping him. It was difficult, and I didn’t know if I was saying the right things, but I sure intended to try. I continued. “You can’t torture yourself because of what your parents did. They were wrong, Nick, just wrong. You’re a great son, Nick. They should have been proud of you, gay or straight. It’s their problem — theirs, not yours. Just look at you: you’re intelligent, caring, good-looking, and kind. You cared about me when I’d been nothing but an asshole to you. You came to help me, even though I’d been a total jerk. You’re so much better than me, Nick. You’re a good person. You should be proud of yourself — proud of what you are.” I almost couldn’t believe the words I was speaking, but I meant them, every one. I wasn’t just saying them to make Nick feel better. I really meant them. He knew it too. “Thanks, Avery,” he said. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just tellin’ you the truth.” Nick smiled at me. He hugged me and I hugged him back.

“I know the last thing you said to your parents was that you hated them, Avery, but they knew you loved them. I’m sure they know it now. You need to take a little of your own advice. We all say things we don’t mean. Even if we do mean them when we say them, we don’t later. Your parents knew that, Avery, I’m sure they did. I’m sure they know it now. Don’t torture yourself with it, Avery. I’m sure your parents want you to be happy. You can’t be happy if you keep blaming yourself. You just can’t. I know it’s hard to not have parents. Mine aren’t dead, but they’re gone as surely as yours. You’ve just gotta keep on going, Avery. There’s too much to enjoy in life to dwell on the pain of the past. There’s just too much to experience, too much love.” “Nobody loves me,” I said sadly. “I do,” said Nick. I looked at him. There was a time that I would’ve been sickened by his words, but I understood now. He meant what he said. His love had nothing to do with physical attraction, or sexual orientation. He cared about me. He loved me, like a friend. I hugged him again. It felt so good to have just one person really care about me. I felt so good I nearly cried again. “You gonna be okay?” asked Nick. “Yeah,” I said, wiping my face. “I think I am.” Nick stood. “I’m gonna go find Sean. I’ll see you a little later, okay? We can all do something together.”

“I’d like that,” I said. I sat there for a few moments after Nick left. I felt... changed, somehow. I didn’t really understand all that I was feeling, but I felt better about myself than I had in a long time. Maybe at last, the healing had begun for me. Out of habit, I wandered around the house looking in drawers and behind paintings. It wasn’t long before I found yet another bit of the journal, hidden away in the bottom of yet another old trunk. My hands trembled as I held it. I feared to read the words, knowing they’d reveal what Andrew had done. May 13, 1872 I feel like I cannot take much more of Andrew. For months now he’s been at us. I hoped he would tire of his terrible game, but it holds too much entertainment for him. Edward and I have tried much to get away from him, but all our efforts have failed. We even tried acting like we derived pleasure from him controlling us, in order to ruin the fun of it for him. That only caused Andrew to rise to new heights of cruelty to break us. It has been long since I’ve written in my journal and that is because I find no joy in the events of my days. At the end of every day, there is Andrew waiting to torment me — with words, and tasks, and fists. Some of the things he has done to Edward and me are so vile, disgusting, and horrible that I refuse to even write of them. Those memories are

too painful and I have no desire to record them so that I might remember them in the future. I have not been writing in my journal much because I’m no longer sure why I write it. I started it to express my feelings, but those I now share with my dear Eddie. I wrote in my journal to fix events in my mind, but there are few now that I want to remember. The one joy I have in writing my journal is speaking of the love I have for Edward. Even though unspeakable horrors have been visited upon us, they are worth it for the love I feel for him, and receive from him. If this nightmare of a life is the price to pay for being with Edward, then pay it I will. If we could end our torment by giving up our love, neither of us would do it. Perhaps my journal is a testament to the love we have for one another, for despite it all, our love has changed only by growing stronger. If Andrew has sought to part us, he has utterly failed. I hated Andrew and I hated me, or rather the me I had been, for I felt that I’d already changed quite a bit. I knew I had far to go, but I had taken the first steps. Maybe I had been Andrew in a past life, but even if I wasn’t, it was just the same. I was just as cruel, just as evil, just as sick. The word ‘was’ was the key, because I was determined not to be the sick bastard that I had been. I’d seen my ugliness. I’d been forced to confront it, and it filled me with revulsion. I refused to continue

to be ugly. I wouldn’t live my life like that — not anymore. I thought of Nick. I’d been nothing but unkind to him. I’d made fun of him and tried to hurt him. Even with all I’d done to him, he reached out to help me when I needed it. He owed me nothing. He had no reason to do so. And yet, he had helped me when I needed it the most. I’d always looked down on gay boys, but if he was the example, then they were all far better than me. I sought out Sean and Nick. I found them in the kitchen, making toast. “Want some?” asked Sean. “Yes, please.” I had not realized it before, but I was hungry. “Sean...” I said slowly, “I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I’ve been. I know I’ve been... not cool. I shouldn’t have been givin’ you shit just because you’re...gay.” I wanted to say more, but each word I spoke made me feel as if I was spitting out a brick. Apologizing was something new to me. I was having a lot of trouble saying ‘gay’, instead of ‘fag’. I was so used to being as vulgar about homosexuals as I could that it was awkward to change. I was determined to make that change, nevertheless. “Well, you have been a real dick,” said Sean. Nick punched him in the arm. Sean wasn’t being very helpful, but why should he? He probably didn’t even believe I was sincere.

“I know,” I said meekly. I felt like a naughty child standing in front of his parents with head bowed. Sean looked at me. I think he realized that I wasn’t just jerkin’ him around. He stopped what he was doing, and just looked at me. “Why the change?” asked Sean. “I’ve been forced to look at myself, and I don’t like what I’m seeing. I didn’t realize I was such a horrible jerk.” Sean didn’t say anything. He just handed me some toast. We stood there in silence for several moments, until he spoke. “You have been ‘not cool’ like you said, but since you’re sorry, I’m willing to forgive it and move on. I guess Nick and I have kinda been jerks to you too, but, to be honest, you deserved it.” I nodded. “Yeah, I did deserve it — that and more. I know you probably don’t believe I’m going to change, but I am. I’ll show you. I’ve been wrong. I know at least one gay boy that’s really cool — maybe even two of them.” I looked at Nick and smiled. Sean didn’t fail to notice what passed between us. “Thanks for the toast,” I said. “Anytime.” I left the kitchen. I guess my little conversation with Sean had gone about as well as I could’ve expected. It was difficult to apologize to someone who didn’t quite trust me. That lack of trust was yet another sign of how

horrible I’d been. How was I able to be such a complete jerk and not even realize it? I wanted to blame it on God, or the devil, or Dave, or Ryan, or anyone else... but I knew I had no one to blame, but myself. I stood in the huge parlor, unsure of what direction to take. I thought of looking for more of the journal, but then the thought occurred to me that I had something much more important to do. The present was far more important than the past. I had a situation to take care of that couldn’t wait. I suddenly felt like Scrooge on Christmas morning, after he’d been visited by the three ghosts. He had raced to undo his stinginess and greed. I wanted to undo the pain and suffering I’d caused as quickly as I could. *** Shane looked up when he saw me coming. He was talking with a couple of friends, but I could tell he was still terrified of me. He was a sweet, innocent kid, and I’d hurt him just because I could. I’d used his homosexuality as an excuse, but I’d been nothing more than a bully. Shane’s friends eyed me. I was sure he hadn’t told them I had beat him up, but I had the feeling they guessed it. Shane was growing pale and was even shaking a little. No one reacted to someone else like that unless they’d been abused. I felt about two inches tall.

“Shane...” My words caught in my throat. I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to deal with the situation. I made myself do it, however. I told myself I was a coward and I had to take my medicine. The only person I could blame for what I’d done was me. “Shane, I’m really sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry for everything.” He looked shocked. His friends looked angry. “You’re the asshole who worked Shane over?” asked one of them. His eyes were blazing. “Yeah,” I admitted. Shane’s friends stepped up to me, putting themselves between me and him. Their muscles were flexing. They were ready to jump me. “Don’t!” said Shane, stepping forward. “You don’t have to be afraid,” I told him. “I’m not going to bother you anymore. Even if your friends here beat the shit outta me, I’m not going to bother you. Can we... can we talk somewhere, alone? I think there’s some things you might not want your friends to hear.” “It’s okay,” he said. “They know I’m gay. It doesn’t bother them. They’re the only ones who know, besides you. They’re my friends. They like me just as I am.” Shane spoke with pride. It made me respect him, and it made me feel even worse for what I’d done. I looked him right in the eye. “I just wanted to say I was wrong — wrong about everything. I know you hate me, and you should. I don’t have any excuse for what I

did. I’d undo it if I could, but I can’t. All I can do is promise I’ll never do it again.” “You bet you won’t,” said one of Shane’s friends and slugged me hard in the stomach. I wasn’t ready for it and it hurt like hell. A split-second later, he punched me in the face and I tasted blood. I sank to my knees and just stayed there. I did nothing to defend myself. I didn’t feel that I had a right. I deserved to be hit. I deserved to be beaten senseless. I looked up, and two of them cocked their fists and were getting ready to hit me again. “Stop!” yelled Shane. Much to my relief, his friends immediately backed off. I stayed where I was. I took Shane’s hand. “Please forgive me,” I said. He looked down at me, confusion on his face. I read compassion there, too. “I do,” he said. I smiled and Shane himself pulled me to my feet. “I owe you, dude,” I said. “If anyone like me comes along and tries to bother you, you let me know and I’ll take care of them. I think your friends here can do a pretty good job of that themselves, but just in case, you just let me know and I’ll handle it.” “Yeah... uh, okay.” I don’t think Shane knew quite what to say. He must have been bewildered. He must have found my behavior strange, to say the least.

“I think I missed out on a very good friend,” I told him. “Maybe more than one,” I said, looking at Shane’s friends. I suddenly felt very lonely. “Don’t ever let anyone treat you like I did, Shane.” I pointed to the smaller boy. “You deserve better. You’re a lot braver than I am, and a better person. I’m sorry for what I did to you.” Shane stared at me, speechless. His friends did too. I felt humiliated in a way, but also proud of myself that I had the balls to do what needed to be done, even though it was painful and embarrassing. I turned on my heel and departed, walking down the street toward Graymoor. I was still very ashamed of myself for the things I’d done, but at least I was changing things, and I felt better about myself for that.

Sean Avery was moping around the house when I returned late in the evening from my work on the farm. He didn’t seem himself at all. Of course, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He was obviously unhappy and seemed as if he felt friendless. I guess he really was friendless. He’d never once brought anyone home with him. In fact, he didn’t even talk about anyone. We’d been none too friendly lately, so we hadn’t talked about such things, but still it was no secret. I felt so sorry for him that I asked if he’d like to look for more of Will’s journal. It was the one thing that we seemed to be able to do with each other. It was our one common interest. Avery smiled when I asked him, and we set off exploring Graymoor once more. We spent two hours looking with no success, which wasn’t unusual in the least. I didn’t mind that we weren’t finding anything, because something was happening between Avery and me. I was starting to like him again. Now that he wasn’t being an ass, I was able to see that maybe he wasn’t all that bad. He reacted to every kind word with gratitude, almost as if he didn’t think he deserved to be treated kindly. That was a side of him I’d never seen before; it made him seem a lot more human.

“I really like Nick,” said Avery, after we’d been searching for quite awhile. “I think you’re really lucky to have such a cool guy as a boyfriend.” I had to restrain myself from staring at him with my mouth open. Avery seemed almost like a different person. It was so unlike him, and yet I knew he was speaking the truth. Nick had told me that Avery had changed. I couldn’t quite bring myself to believe it, but now that I was spending time with Avery, I could see that change. Nick didn’t tell me about what had passed between him and Avery, but I knew it must’ve been something pretty intense for Nick to be so sure about him. He’d even said that we should make plans to go out and take Avery along with us. For the first time, I thought that it was a good idea. “Hey, look at this,” said Avery. He’d made a discovery, but it wasn’t a page from the journal. I walked over to where he was looking through a desk drawer as he pulled out the empty cover of a book. On the front it said “The Journal of William Graymoor". “Well, I guess this ends any doubt that the journal was written by Will Graymoor,” said Avery. “Not that there was much doubt.” The cover was empty, all the pages of the book torn away, but I still felt a connection to Will as I looked at it. I think Avery did too. He held it in his hands as if it were something precious.

“You’re going to think I’m silly,” said Avery, “but I kinda think of Will as a friend. I know he’s been dead for a hundred years, but it doesn’t matter. I just wish I could talk to him. We’re so much alike. He...he even...” He stopped, as if he were about to cry, then forced himself to continue. “He even... lost his parents. Like me.” Avery was speaking in almost a whisper, as if sharing a secret with me. I didn’t know how he would react, but I put my hand on his shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. He didn’t pull back from me as I expected. Instead, he looked at me and smiled. There were tears sparkling in his eyes, but he wasn’t crying. “Thanks, Sean,” he said. “You’re awfully nice to me, when I’ve been such a jerk. I hope we can kind of start over, and be friends.” “I’d like that,” I told him, and I meant it. A very short time before I wouldn’t have dreamed that I’d ever consider Avery a friend, but he really had changed, just as Nick said. “Did Nick tell you what happened?” he asked. “No.” “Well, he came up on me while I was crying. I was upset over my parents. Even though I’d been so mean to him, Nick tried to help me. He did help me. He talked to me and held me.” I almost couldn’t believe that Avery was admitting that another boy had held him in his arms — and a gay

boy at that. He’d been such a homophobe it didn’t seem possible. I thought I saw the flicker of a smile on his face. “I can see why you guys like hugging so much. I’m mean... I’m really not gay or anything, but it made me feel better — like he really cared.” “He did care,” I said, as we stepped apart. “Yeah, I know he did. I’ve been so wrong about you guys.” I smiled. “It’s hard you know,” he continued, “not having any parents. Dude, you’re so lucky. Your parents are alive and they love you. I’d give anything for that. I didn’t appreciate it when I had it, but now that it’s gone, I want it more than anything. I feel so alone. I don’t have a family anymore.” “But you do, Avery. You have a family. You’re part of my family now. You’re my brother.” I really meant what I was saying. It was as if the thoughts and feelings I was expressing were being born just before I said them out loud, but I meant them nonetheless. I really did think of Avery as my brother, although I hadn’t only moments before. I was beginning to like the idea of having him as a brother. I smiled at him, and he smiled back and nodded. Neither of us knew quite what else to say, so we continued our search. Only a few minutes later, we found ourselves in William’s room, although Avery didn’t know it. As Avery searched through drawers, I

felt a compulsion to take a painting down off the wall and pry away the backing. I did so and saw something there. I grew excited. I turned the painting upside down and shook it. A piece of paper covered with handwriting fell out of it. “Finally,” I said, as I reached down to pick it up. My new brother and I read it together. May 27, 1872 A great fear has been upon me all day, as if some terrible event is bearing down upon me. Andrew seemed more pleased with himself than ever today, and his cruelty knew no bounds. I still ache from the beating he gave me and my soul cries at the horrible things he makes Edward and I do. Not even the worst criminal would deserve what he has done to us, but the love between Eddie and me is not shaken. My hand trembles as I write this. I feel such an impending sense of doom that I almost dare not breathe. Edward has sensed something coming, too. When Andrew released us for the evening, Edward and I stole away and held each other close. We kissed, then made love upon the grass. Our love is so strong it can take us through anything, and I know that not even death itself will part us. As I sit here in my nightshirt, I feel a terrible foreboding. I am almost certain that there will not

be another day. I feel that I will never read this journal of mine. Perhaps I was never meant to do so; perhaps it was written for another. If someone does chance to find this someday, please know that I love Edward with all my heart, and he loves me the same. I’m trembling. I know in my heart there is not much time. I will hide this part of my journal away, as I have all the others. I hear harsh words spoken on the stair. Is this the beginning of what I fear? “It sounds like this was the last entry,” said Avery. There was a slight quiver in his voice, as if he also had the sense of something terrible about to happen. I looked at the top of the entry. “It was the last,” I said sadly. Avery looked at me with a question in his eyes. “You say that as if you know it.” I sighed. “I do.” “How?” “Because of the date, May 27th, 1872. That’s the night William and Edward were murdered.” “Oh, no!” said Avery, holding his hands over his ears as if he could thereby keep something he didn’t want to happen from happening, if he just didn’t hear it. He started to cry. Avery sank down onto the bed and I sat next to him. I pulled him to me and held him as he sobbed. He cried

as if his best friend had just died. I just sat there and held him, petting the back of his head. He hugged me tight and cried onto my shoulder for the longest time. “How did...how did it happen? Was it Andrew?” asked Avery fearfully. I started to speak, but I heard something I hadn’t heard for a long time. It was something familiar, but something that had been absent for many weeks. I pulled Avery to his feet and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if you’re ready for this, but there’s no time. There is something I think you need to see.” I pulled him along with me, quickly moving down the hall. “This won’t be pretty, but it will explain much. Maybe that’s why it’s happening again now.” “What’s happening?” asked Avery, thoroughly confused. “You’ll see,” I said, pulling him down the stairs into the huge front parlor. When Avery saw what I’d brought him to see, he gripped my shoulder in fear. I didn’t blame him in the least. I was right — it was happening again. I’d seen it many times before, and it always held a certain sense of terror for me. I knew that Avery would find it horrifying, but something told me he needed to see. Two shimmering apparitions stood before us, ghostly gray and transparent. It was Edward Graymoor and his father. They were in the midst of a heated argument. Only a few of the words they spoke were discernable, but I could make out Mr. Graymoor saying “no son of

mine...” and Edward saying “but Father, I love him” soon after. Avery watched in horrified fascination as Mr. Graymoor grabbed his son by the shirt and Edward pushed him away. Edward fell to the floor as his father turned and took the ax from near the fireplace. Edward scrambled to his feet and bolted up the stairs. I pulled Avery out of the way just in time. I knew he’d feel nothing as the apparitions passed through him, but I did not know if he could stand the terror of it. I pulled Avery after me, following Mr. Graymoor as he pursued his son. We watched as he bore down upon the frightened boy as he sat upright in his bed. We heard Edward’s screams and the sickening sound of a sharp ax on flesh and bone. Mixed in with the screams I could hear the words “sodomites die”. I was glad Mom wasn’t home. She hated hearing those screams. She wouldn’t be happy at all if the Graymoors murders began to replay themselves once more. Soon the room was all too quiet. Edward lay dead on my bed and it was a gruesome sight. The sheets were stained red and there was blood on the headboard. Avery was crying and shaking. I wondered if exposing him to the ghostly reenactment was such a good idea after all. We followed Mr. Graymoor as he went to another bedroom down the hall. There we watched as he hacked up his wife in a rage. Everything was all gray, except the red blood. Avery looked like he was going to be sick to his stomach.

Even though I’d seen it before, I could hardly bear to follow as the enraged Mr. Graymoor went into his daughter’s room. I looked on in horror as the little girl begged her father not to hurt her. “Ellie,” cried Avery, as if she were his own sister. He closed his eyes. We heard the little girl plead “No Father!” just before her pitiful and horrible scream. Mr. Graymoor must have been insane to do such things. He left his daughter lying dead on the floor and walked to another bedroom not far down the hall. “He’s going to William’s room now,” I said. “Oh, no,” said Avery, shaking his head. He was crying. “Please... no!” “I don’t know if you want to see this.” “I think I was meant to see it,” said Avery. He looked pale and green. We entered behind the ghost to see William dressed in a night shirt, keeping the bed between himself and the crazed Mr. Graymoor. They were exchanging heated words, but again I could not make much out. All I could make out was Mr. Graymoor saying “adopted”, “still your brother...”, “cannot suffer to live...”, and “sodomy”. I could catch even fewer of William’s words but I could discern “we love one...” and “Edward...” Mr. Graymoor swung at William, but the ax met only air. William vaulted straight over the bed without touching it. He was quite an athlete. He ran through Avery and me before we could move out of the way,

but I felt nothing as he passed through me. Avery grasped his own chest in amazement. We stepped quickly aside as Mr. Graymoor passed through same space. We ran down the hall after Mr. Graymoor as he caught up with William and sank the ax head between his shoulder blades. The blood curdling screams made me want to cover my ears, as did the grotesque squishing, cracking, and gurgling sounds that followed. In mere moments, Will lay dead on the floor. Avery and I stepped around his still form. I had to pull Avery away from him. He wanted to stay with him, as if he could help him... but William was a hundred years and more beyond help. I pulled Avery along. There was something more he needed to see. We followed Mr. Graymoor down the hall and down the back stairs. He led us outside and then disappeared into nothingness. I knew he was not gone, however; the scene had not played itself out. We heard a loud murmuring and turned to see a large crowd of ghostly figures gathered around the large tree just out back of the house. They were shouting. I couldn’t make out a single word, but it was clear they were angry. Avery and I drew near and watched as a noose was placed around Mr. Graymoor’s neck as he sat astride a horse. Pale, ghostly torches lit the scene as the rope was thrown over a branch, and the other end secured. The horse bolted and the rope went taunt. The only sound was a wet crack as Mr. Graymoor’s neck snapped. We

watched as he swung back and forth on the noose, eyes bulging, dead. I noticed something that I had never noticed before. There, in the crowd, was Andrew, looking very frightened. He looked so much like Avery it was scary. Avery saw him too, and nearly fainted dead away. Andrew looked about himself in fear. He had a look of guilt to him and I had little doubt he was the one who had brought about the death of the Graymoor boys. Moments later, he and the angry crowd were gone. Avery sank to the grass crying and shaking. He wasn’t just crying, he was bawling — and when I say he was shaking, I really mean it. I could see him trembling so hard, I was afraid he’d go into a seizure or something. I leaned down by him and held him. “It’s okay, Avery,” I whispered. “It’s okay. It all happened a long time ago, and it’s over now.” I led him back inside. I stopped for just a moment to grab the phone, call Marshall and tell him to come over at once. As Avery and I passed the spot where Will had been murdered, Avery looked at the floor as if expecting to see him there. There was nothing to see, not a stain, not a mark. It was as if nothing had happened at all. Avery was in hysterics as I led him to his bedroom. I guided him down onto his bed and pulled off his shoes. I didn’t dare leave his side. He wasn’t taking what he’d seen well at all. Marshall arrived in just a few minutes. I had told him to come straight to Avery’s bedroom. When he saw

Avery lying on the bed in an emotional mess, he looked shocked. “What happened?” he asked. “We just saw the Graymoor murders.” Marshall was stunned. “It happened again?” “Yes, just now.” Avery suddenly stopped crying, sat up, and looked at us. “Wait, whaddya mean?” said Avery. “Happened again? You’ve seen this before?” “Yes, lots of times,” I said, “but it hasn’t happened for weeks. Listen Avery, I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have let you see it. I didn’t know it’d be so hard on you, but I thought you needed to understand what happened.” “So you’ve known about this all along? You knew they’d been killed... murdered?” “Yes, pretty much everyone in town knows it. This house is infamous for being the scene of the Graymoor ax murders.” Avery had calmed down quite a lot and seemed more curious than anything at the moment. “What... what did we just see?” he asked. “Ghosts?” I turned to Marshall. This was his area. I could explain it well enough, but he was the real expert in ghosts and other worldly phenomena.

“What you saw was a reenactment of sorts. Sometimes, when something very traumatic happens, it sort of permeates the space in which it occurred. When the conditions are right, or someone sensitive enough to see comes along, the events replay themselves.” “You mean poor Will and Eddie get murdered over and over again? How awful.” Avery looked ready to start crying again. “No, not at all. What you saw were not ghosts, or spirits, or anything like that. You didn’t see Will and Edward, only memories of them. The best way I can explain is this: if you videotaped a baseball game and then watched the tape later, you’d see what happened in the game, whatever was recorded, but the game wouldn’t really be happening again. The players wouldn’t be hitting balls and running around the bases and all that. You’d see it on the television, but the players wouldn’t really be there. What you saw is like that, like a videotape of what happened. William and Edward weren’t there. They didn’t experience what happened again.” “That’s good,” said Avery, relieved. “So you believe it?” I asked. “Of course I believe it — I saw it. I heard it! Oh, God... it was terrible!” I felt a pang of regret. “I’m sorry for showing it to you so suddenly, but I heard the voices downstairs and I knew what was happening,” I said. “It hasn’t happened

for weeks, and I didn’t know how long it would be before it happened again — if ever.” “I’m glad you showed me,” said Avery, wiping the tears from his eyes. “It was so horrible, but... but I feel like I needed to see it. You were right in showing it to me.” “Anything else been happening?” asked Marshall, glancing around the room. He was clearly hoping for more ghostly activity. He loved that stuff. “Nothing. But we did find more of the journal, and I think I’ve pieced together a few things.” I’d kept Marshall pretty up to date on the journal entries we’d found so far, but he didn’t know about the last one, so I let him read it. “Will must’ve finished writing this seconds before Graymoor burst into his room,” said Marshall. “It’s as if he knew it was going to happen.” “Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” I said. “I don’t think he knew he and Ed were about to be murdered, but he sure knew something bad was just on the horizon. I doubt he realized it was coming so very fast, though.” “Yeah.” “There’s one thing I’ve been thinking,” I said. “We know Mr. Graymoor found out about Will and Edward, but we never knew how. I’ve always kind of assumed he caught them doin’ something together, but I’ve got another idea now.” “So do I,” said Avery, “Andrew told him.”

Marshall and I stared at him. Avery said it as if he didn’t merely suspect it; it was as if he knew it for sure. “Yeah, that’s what I think too,” I agreed. “It could well be,” said Marshall. “From what the journal says, that Andrew was quite capable of it.” “Yeah,” I said, “and just now, I saw him in the crowd outside while Mr. Graymoor was being hung. Andrew looked very frightened, and guilty.” I looked at Avery. He looked miserable, as if he were guilty, too. We all sat there feeling as if we’d solved a murder. Everyone had known for more than a hundred years that Mr. Graymoor did the killing. The people of the town had hung him for it themselves. I don’t think anyone had any idea what led up to the murders, however. Marshall and I had known for weeks that the boys were killed because they were gay, but we never quite knew how it had come about — until now. “It’s my fault,” said Avery, staring out into space. “It’s my fault they died. I might as well have killed Will and Edward myself.” “No,” I told him. “It’s not your fault.” “It is!” he insisted. “You heard what Marshall said. I probably was Andrew in a previous life. He told Mr. Graymoor about them. He might as well have hacked them up himself. Andrew did kill them, but I killed them, too! I killed Will.” Avery started crying again. I held him and tried to calm him down, but he was inconsolable.

“You don’t know that for sure,” said Marshall soothingly. “No one knows it. Even if it’s true. You’re not Andrew anymore; you’re Avery. You can’t torture yourself over what’s passed.” “God, I miss him. I miss Will so much,” said Avery, still crying. He looked up at Marshall and me. “You guys probably think I’m pretty stupid, crying and gettin’ all upset over someone I don’t even really know, don’t you?” “No,” I said. “Not at all,” said Marshall. “Listen,” I said, “we know how you feel. I’ve always felt a kind of connection to the Graymoor boys, too. I sleep in Edward’s bedroom. I even use the very same furniture he did. I know he lived ages ago, but he still seems like a friend. I was upset when I learned about his death, too. Just because it happened a long time ago doesn’t make it any less horrible or sad. And it doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.” Avery sniffled for a moment. “You do understand,” he said finally, and began to smile. “Yes, we do,” said Marshall. “Whenever you need to talk about it, both of us are here for you — okay?” “Thanks. You’re pretty cool,” said Avery. “I’ve heard you’ve become pretty cool too,” said Marshall.

Avery nodded, then stared off into space again, his young face filled with regret and guilt. I knew he was still blaming himself for what Andrew had done. It was very late. We talked a little longer, then Marshall and I left Avery when he said he thought he could sleep. I told him to come and wake me at any time if he was scared, or just needed someone to be with. Avery really had changed, and I found that I liked him. I was worried about him, too. I wasn’t sure he could let go of the past. What if he tried to join Will and Edward? I decided to keep a close eye on him, just to make sure there was no chance of that happening. Marshall decided to stay over, hoping for more ghostly activity no doubt. I’d had quite enough of it myself for one night and was happy just to crawl into bed and close my eyes without anything supernatural happening. *** The next day, I went out to work with Nick on the farm. I realized how very lucky we were, not only to have each other, but to be able to be open about our relationship. William and Edward had to hide their love. We did not. They were killed because of their love, while those around us loved us, no matter what. I gazed at Nick as we worked side by side. He was smiling. It was too early to tell if his mood shifts would continue to plague him, but I had a feeling they’d

become less and less frequent with time. He hadn’t had a single one since his talk with Avery. I had a feeling that maybe in reaching out to help Avery, Nick had somehow helped himself. Something had happened in that short space of time that healed Nick more than everything Ethan, Nathan, and I had done. It was odd that help had come from such an unlikely source. Avery had been able to reach Nick in a way I couldn’t. I’d always be thankful to him for that. If it was not already gone for good, I hoped that someday soon Nick’s moodiness would disappear. I knew that not having the love of his parents was painful for him. They were out there somewhere, his mom and dad, and he knew they didn’t love him. It was unthinkable to me that anyone couldn’t love their own children. I was too young to have a son of my own, but I knew that I’d love him if I did, no matter what. Nick had a new family now. Ethan and Nathan were the best parents ever. They loved Nick and he knew it. They couldn’t undo what his birth parents had done to him. The past was the past and could not be changed. But they could change the present and the future, and that they were doing. Nick was loved more now than ever before. On top of all that, he had me. I knew I’d love him forever, no matter what was to come. As evening came and our workday was done, Nick led me to a little meadow, screened from the farmhouse by giant oak trees. I started to speak, but he put his finger over my lips, then kissed me. Our kiss deepened, our tongues entwined. In silence, Nick pulled my shirt

over my head and ran his hands over my bare chest. I tugged his shirt off as well and we sank to the grass. Nick stared into my eyes, with obvious love in his heart. I smiled at him and kissed him once more. Our hands began to wander as they had so often before. It wasn’t long before we lay naked, in each others arms. Making love with Nick was the most wonderful experience I could imagine. It went so far beyond mere sex that there was no comparison. Each touch, each lingering caress was an exquisite delight. All of it, everything we did, meant so much more because we loved each other so deeply. Nick and I pressed against each other, our bodies growing sweaty, our breath coming fast and hard. I couldn’t believe that two people could bring each other so much pleasure. Nick drove me out of my mind with desire. What he did for me was so intense it was nearly painful. It was magnified beyond belief by the knowledge that I was making Nick feel so very good. We rubbed against each other as we made out on the grass, our naked bodies entwining and becoming one. Nick lay on his back and I lay full-length on top of him. I kissed his sweet lips and nibbled playfully on his earlobes, then chewed on his neck and playfully bit at his shoulders. I kissed his smooth chest and explored it with my tongue. I was unhurried as I explored his young body. My lips and tongue glided down to his tight abdomen. Nick was so slim that each row of abdominal muscle was clearly defined. He was beautiful.

Nick was breathing hard and I had no doubt he was excited. I could feel his hardness pressing against me. I teased him by coming ever so near his manhood, but never quite touching it. He was writhing with the torment of it. I grinned, then lowered my lips upon him. Nick drew in a sharp breath, then moaned. The light grew dim, but we ignored the gathering darkness. All my attention was focused on making Nick feel as wonderful as I could possibly manage. I could tell from his quick breathing and soft whimpers of pleasure that I was doing well. Nick ran his fingers through my hair and caressed my neck as I made love to him. Several minutes later, Nick cried out in ecstasy as he experienced the release of his pent-up passion. I reveled in the knowledge that I was the one creating such a feeling for him. I loved him with all my heart, and this was but one way I could show him. Nick and I weren’t done with each other. We’d only begun. He guided me onto my back and gave me the same pleasure I had him. I looked down at Nick, thinking how very beautiful he was and how very lucky I was to have him as my boyfriend. Moments later, my eyes were rolling into the back of my head, and Nick had only just started. Everything was wonderful with Nick, but this... I helplessly surrendered myself to him, and braced for the inevitable ecstasy that was only minutes away.

Avery “Noooooo!” I said. “No is right, loser!” said Nick. “You landed on Boardwalk, with a hotel and that’s...$2,000! You don’t have $2,000 do you, Avery?” I checked the brightly-colored pile in front of my lap and gulped. “Um — how ‘bout $143?” “Sorry — not good enough, bankrupt boy.” Nick was gloating. For the last hour my finances had been dwindling. I’d been forced to sell my houses and hotels, and even my properties. I was down to just a bit of cash. I didn’t mind. It was fun playing Monopoly with Nick, Sean, and Marshall. We were hard-core players, merciless cut-throats. Sean was already out of the game, forced into bankruptcy by his remorseless boyfriend. In this game, there were no such things as friends, or lovers. I got up and walked over to the window of the dining room and looked out as the cold rain trickled down the windowpane. Only an occasional flash of lightning lit the yard. I could hear the torrential downpour as it spattered against the house, and the wind moaned softly in the distance. It was the typical atmosphere of Graymoor.

I suddenly grew chilled as I stood by the window, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Marshall groaned at the table behind me, but it had nothing to do with what I was feeling. Thanks to a lucky roll of the dice, Nick had managed to force him into bankruptcy, too. “Losers!” Nick said, laughing at all of us. “Such a gracious winner,” said Sean to Marshall, but Marshall wasn’t listening. He was staring straight at me. I’d turned from the window and found myself inexplicably drawn to a spot about three feet away, just off to the right. “Gee, it’s cold in here,” said Nick with a shudder. I wasn’t the only one who had felt the temperature suddenly drop. Marshall glanced at Nick for only a moment. Sean slowly turned his head back and forth — looking first at Marshall, then back to me. “Can you see him?” asked Marshall, nodding towards the spot. “See what?” I asked. “You’re looking right at him,” he said. I would’ve thought Marshall was bullshitting me, or was up to some trick, but I had the most overpowering feeling that someone really was standing right where I was looking. “No,” I whispered. “But I can feel him.”

Sean and Nick stopped in mid-move and stared at Marshall and me. They knew something was up. “What do you see?” I asked. Marshall’s eyes were wide and unblinking. “I see a boy. He looks a whole lot like you. It’s... it’s Andrew.” A short time before I would’ve thought Marshall was a lunatic for saying such a thing. But Graymoor had taught me that ghosts were real — or at least ghostly reenactments of the past. “This isn’t like when I saw Will and Ed, is it?” I asked, my heart pounding. “No,” he said evenly, “they are but reflections of the past. This is an earthbound spirit.” I looked at the spot where I could feel a presence. Andrew was here! I was filled with hatred, and contempt. “Get away from me,” I growled at whatever Andrew had become. “He wants to show you something,” said Marshall. “He wants to show us all.” “I don’t care!” I said, hot tears streaming down my face. After what he’d done to William and Edward... “He’s sorry,” said Marshall. I gave Marshall an icy stare. I hated Andrew. I wanted nothing to do with him. “Well, I want to see what he’s got to show us,” said Sean.

Nick was holding onto Sean’s upper arm. He looked terrified. I’d have been scared too, if I wasn’t so angry. “Show us, Andrew. We’ll follow,” said Marshall. His gaze floated across the room. I couldn’t see anything, but I felt the presence moving away from me. Marshall followed it out into the hall and the rest of us were not far behind. He began climbing the stairs and led us up and up. We followed Marshall, trailing the ghost only he could see, through the halls, and into the library. “Shit!” I jumped back at the creak of neglected hinges, practically knocking Sean and Nick over, as the bookcase that hid the secret passage opened all by itself. Well, I guess that wasn’t true — Andrew’s ghost had opened it. “Wait!” I cried, as Marshall was about to step into the dark passage. “Should we be following him? What if he’s leading us all into some kind of trap?” “He’s not,” said Marshall flatly. I stared into his eyes. “I know,” said Marshall, answering my silent question. Somehow, he could tell what Andrew was feeling. After a moment, I nodded. Marshall was one weird boy, but I trusted him. He entered the passage and the rest of us followed. Just as the light from the doorway behind us began to fade in the distance, Sean snapped on a flashlight.

“Here,” said Sean, handing the light to Marshall. Sean always seemed to have a flashlight close to hand. I guess it came with having lived in Graymoor for so long. Marshall shined the light on the floor. It was covered with half an inch of dust, and there were no footprints. No one had been through there in ages. “Have you ever been in this part of the passage?” asked Marshall. “No,” said Sean. “We’re going in the opposite direction from the way I went when I was in here before.” We came to a narrow set of stairs and Marshall climbed them, going up and up. The walls themselves were unfinished, but here and there were old paintings of someone long dead. I looked down and saw candle holders just above the railing, with unlit candles in them, arranged every few feet along the wall. At the top of the stairs, the narrow passage continued on. I felt almost claustrophobic as we wandered around within the walls of Graymoor. I wondered where we were in relation to the rooms in the house. I had no idea of our location, except that we’d gone at least one floor up. We walked on and on in silence for what seemed like forever, until Marshall suddenly jerked to a halt. He pointed ahead to a small room. “He died here,” he said in a low voice.

Nick gave a small scream and we all jerked back. Laying on the floor was a corpse, its head separated from the rest of the body and lying some two feet away, as if it had rolled there. We all stepped forward for a closer look. “He’s been mummified,” said Sean. “Must be the dry heat in here,” said Marshall. We looked at the body on the floor. The flesh had dried and shrank, but it was still there. Even lifeless eyes stared out from deep within their sockets. The hair was intact, looking dry and lifeless. What disturbed me the most was the teeth. The lips had drawn back until the teeth were showing in a macabre grin. It made me shudder. “I guess we don’t have to wonder how he died,” said Marshall, nodding over to the left. The noose still hung from the rafters. A dusty chair lay on its side on the floor not far away. Andrew had hung himself. “Is there a note?” asked Sean. Marshall kneeled down and searched the body. I couldn’t believe it, he actually touched it! He even looked through Andrew’s pockets, but found nothing. “I guess we’ll never know for sure why he killed himself then,” said Sean. I had a strong feeling I knew — remorse. “There might be a way to find out,” said Marshall, “but you’re not going to like it.”

“No séances,” said Sean flatly. He seemed adamant, although I had no idea why. “Not a séance,” said Marshall, “more of a channeling.” Sean didn’t look happy at all. “I know I’m gonna be sorry for asking this,” he said, “but what do you mean?” “Well, there are those who have the ability to act as a trance medium.” “In English,” said Sean, rolling his eyes. “I’m a sensitive,” said Marshall. “If you put me under, I might be able to act as a medium for Andrew, so he can speak to us directly.” “Put you under?” I asked. “Like hypnosis?” I’d heard of that stuff, even seen it done on television, but I’d never believed that shit. “Yes — hypnosis,” said Marshall. “And just who is going to hypnotize you?” asked Sean. “You are.” “I can’t,” he protested. “You can. It’s easy.” “Um... just how dangerous is this?” asked Nick. He looked very frightened. “Not at all.” “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to summon Andrew,” warned Sean.

“He’s already here,” pointed out Marshall. He looked over into the corner in the very spot where I felt a presence. It was too weird, but it was real. Whenever Marshall pointed out the location of the ghost, it was in the exact spot where I sensed something, too. “Can’t you just talk to him without doing this trance thing?” asked Sean. “I mean, you knew he wanted us to come here.” Marshall shook his head. “All I can get is a vague sense of emotions and desires. I can’t communicate with him.” “I don’t know about this,” said Sean. He was not the least bit eager. “I’ve gotta know what happened to him,” I said. I had a feeling I already knew, but I wanted to know for sure. After a few minutes of persuading on the part of Marshall, we decided to go for it. Marshall picked up the chair, dusted it off and sat down in it. Sean waved the flashlight slowly back and forth in front of Marshall and put him under in about three minutes, just like Marshall had explained how to do it. Sean seemed surprised when it worked so easily... and scared, too. Suddenly, Marshall grew rigid and grabbed this throat. “Pain,” he said hoarsely. “He feels... pain.” There was no need to ask for an explanation of that. “I’m feeling deep sadness... fear... regret,” said Marshall.

The hair on the back of my neck was standing up. Marshall was totally freaking me out. Nick was holding onto Sean, and me. Marshall’s face suddenly changed and his eyes opened. He didn’t look like himself anymore. It was still his face, but he looked a lot like... me. When he spoke, his voice was different. “Out of control... No stopping... No. No.” Sean swallowed hard. I knew he was terrified. So were the rest of us. “Jealousy... Anger... Horrible, horrible,” said Marshall — and yet, not Marshall. Marshall began to hum a song I’d never heard before. His eyes drifted around the room. “Why did you hang yourself?” asked Sean. “Punishment!” Marshall roared. “Punishment for what I did!” I was so freaked I wanted to run. Andrew was speaking through Marshall’s lips! “What did you do?” “Killed them! Killed the one I loved, and the other...” The one he loved? I was confused. Apparently so was Sean. “Who did you love?” he asked. His voice was a whisper now. “Edward.”

Whoa! I never once guessed that Andrew loved Edward. How could it be true? How could he torment someone he loved? “Who is the other?” Marshall’s body shook, and his head moved back and forth, as if speaking was agonizing for him. “William...stole him from me...took Edward.” “You and Edward...were dating?” asked Sean. “No...no...” “Then how did William steal him?” “He is the one I wanted. I was waiting... I waited too long... William took him from me. Horrible...horrible things I did, then killed them.” “But you didn’t kill them!” said Sean. “I’ve seen how they died. Mr. Graymoor killed them.” “I told him! I told him all! I knew he’d kill them... religious... I knew...” Marshall started crying and wailing, his screams echoing against the walls and down the passageway. The sound made me want to cover my ears. “And that’s why you killed yourself, isn’t it?” “Yes! Yes! I killed the one I loved. I am surely damned to hell forever! I was so terrified, I was trembling, but I couldn’t tear myself away from the scene before me. “Why do you remain here?” asked Sean. “Punishment... I must stay in this room.”

“But you left it tonight.” “Yes, to bring him!” Marshall pointed directly at me and I just about shit my pants. “Why him?” I leaned in close, eager for the answer. “Jealousy... Anger... Hatred.” He wasn’t answering the question — or was he? He kept repeating himself. “You don’t have to stay here anymore, Andrew,” said Sean. “You can go.” Marshall shook his head again. “No! No! Stay! Punishment!” “A hundred years has passed,” said Sean soothingly. “You’ve been punished long enough. Go. Go to your family. They’re waiting for you.” “Jealousy... Killed them! Killed the one I loved!” Marshall kept mumbling and crying. Sean kept talking to him, but could get nothing more out of him. He just kept repeating the same things over and over. I had the feeling that Andrew wasn’t quite sane. That didn’t seem surprising, not after more than a century of self-imposed imprisonment. “Leave this place,” said Sean. “You have paid for what you’ve done. You have suffered long enough. Go.” Marshall shuddered once, then slumped down in the chair. I knew that Andrew was gone. I wondered if he’d left as Sean suggested, or if he’d merely left Marshall. I had the distinct feeling he was still in the room.

Marshall looked around, a bit dazed. “What happened?” “You don’t remember?” Sean asked. “No, mediums don’t usually remember what happens when they are under. What happened?” Sean began to explain. “Can’t we do this downstairs?” asked Nick, looking around furtively. “I don’t want to stay here.” I more than agreed with him. We returned the way we had come and were soon sitting around the table in the dining room. Sean told Marshall everything that Andrew had said. “I guess we know for sure now,” said Marshall. Sean sighed. “I tried to help him,” he said. “I tried to tell him he could leave, but I don’t think he listened.” “He’s bound here by what he’s done,” said Marshall sadly. “It might be possible to convince him he can go, but it’s probably going to take someone a lot more professional than us.” We talked about it long into the night. Later, I thought about what had happened, and how Andrew had been imprisoned by his guilt for all these years. What he’d done was unspeakable, but I pitied him. I understood him a little better too. He’d let jealousy control him — letting love turn to hate, until it had destroyed him.

I’d hated Andrew for a long time, but I couldn’t find it in my heart to keep hating him. I pitied him now. Sean was right: Andrew had suffered enough.

Sean Old habits die hard. Even though we’d been visited by the spirit of Andrew and had learned at last what brought about the Graymoor murders, I couldn’t keep myself from looking for more of Will’s journal now and then. Such was the case when Nick came to visit on one of our days off from the farm. We spent most of our time making out, of course, but we found ourselves looking for more of the journal, just in case. Our little expedition led us to the library, and there we began looking through the shelves. I felt powerfully drawn to one particular area. Such a feeling of being guided never failed to result in the discovery of yet another page from Will’s journal. This time, I found nothing written by Will Graymoor, but I discovered something infinitely more precious. “Nick! Look at this!” Nick came to my side and gazed at the volume I was holding. It wasn’t just a page from a diary, it was a complete journal, written not by Will, but by Taylor! “Oh, wow!” said Nick. “Ethan is sure going to wanna see that!” Ethan had been a friend of Taylor and was even closer to Mark, Taylor’s boyfriend. Both Mark and Taylor had killed themselves nearly twenty years before, when the two of them and Ethan had been in

high school together. What I held in my hands was undoubtedly Taylor’s journal of the events that led up to that tragedy. I’d read Mark’s journal, but Taylor’s was the missing piece. I never even guessed it existed. He must have hidden it away in the library, all those years ago, when he and Mark sought refuge in Graymoor. “I’ll make sure he gets to see it, but I’m reading it first,” I said, flipping through the pages. “This is great! It’s all here, too. We don’t have to go looking for parts of this one. I just wonder why Taylor didn’t tell me about it himself.” “Maybe he just did,” said a voice behind us. We both turned. Nick gasped and held his hand to his heart. I smiled. It had been many weeks since I’d seen him, but there he was: Taylor himself. He was as beautiful as I remembered him. He was a translucent white, with a golden glow. There was a touch of color to him, but he was clearly a ghost — or, more properly, an angel. I looked at Nick standing beside me. “Don’t be afraid,” I told him. His eyes were as wide as saucers. “I’m not afraid, it’s just that I’ve never... Wow.” “Where have you been?” I asked Taylor. “Where’s Mark?” “We’ve been rather busy. We can’t just float around here all day, now can we?” Taylor laughed and his

voice was musical. “Mark and I are working on something. Sorry I can’t tell you about it, but it’s kinda secret. It’s for, well... you know,” he said, looking upward with his eyes.” “It’s okay if I read this, right?” I said, holding up the diary. “Of course, it is! Why do you think you found it just now?” I grinned. “There’s so much I want to ask you,” I said. “There was so little time before.” Taylor sighed. “I’m afraid there is little time now. I have much to do that cannot wait. I must leave you now, but I’ll be back.” With that, Taylor faded away before us. I was more than a little disappointed, but I understood. Nick stared at the spot where he’d been standing. “Whoa!” he said. “I never doubted you about any of the ghosts or anything, or about seeing Taylor and Mark, but... wow!” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Yeah. It kinda changes your perspective on things, doesn’t it?” “Yes, it’s like... It’s like... I can’t explain it, but I feel like everything’s going to be okay now, no matter what.” “It’s going to be,” I said. I pulled Nick to me and kissed him passionately. I loved him with all my heart.

Avery “You’re sure you wanna try it?” I asked, as Nick stepped onto my skateboard. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Nick pushed off and took off down the walk at Koontz Lake, tearing past Sean and Matt as they watched from the side. When Nick was about half a block away, he suddenly jumped into the air and flipped on the board beneath him, then came roaring back at me. He slammed to a halt, mere inches from me. “You said you’d never skated before!” I said, incredulously. “No, I didn’t,” said Nick, laughing. “You just assumed that gay boys can’t skate!” “How about you?” I asked Sean. “Do you have a hidden talent for skating as well?” “Not me,” said Sean. “I can skate a little, but not like that. My talents lie in other areas.” “They sure do,” said Nick, as he arched his eyebrows at Sean. “Sean is very, very talented.” He leaned over and kissed Sean right on the lips. “Do I have to throw a bucket of cold water on you two?” asked Matt, rolling his eyes. “That might not be a bad idea,” said Sean. “Or maybe me and Nick could go and spend a little time alone.” He

pulled Nick to him. They were on the verge of making out right then and there, but Matt pressed in between them. “No way! You two can get it on later. Right now, we’re skating!” “They’re like rabbits,” I said reprovingly. “You should’ve heard what I did coming from Sean’s room when Nick stayed over last night.” “Ohhhh, tell!” said Matt. “Shut up!” said Sean with a grin. “The moaning and groaning was terrible...” “Shut up!” said Nick. “I kept hearing ‘Oh baby, that feels so good.’” “Shut up, Avery!” said Sean and Nick together. Matt was laughing his ass off. “And I swear, I am not makin’ this up,” I said. “I’ve gotta get a girlfriend,” said Matt. There was a definite sense of yearning in his voice. “Find me one too, while you’re at it,” I told him. “I think they’re jealous,” said Nick. “Definitely,” said Sean. “Hell yeah, we’re jealous!” said Matt. “We sure as hell aren’t getting any.” I was amazed at how much things had changed in such a short time. I was amazed at how much I had changed. A lot had happened to me in recent weeks,

and I was glad. The fun I was having with Sean, Nick, and Matt let me know what I’d been missing. “Hey, wanna play?” I looked over from where I was standing with the others. I was surprised to see Shane standing there, and his friends a few steps behind him. He was holding a basketball. At first, I thought he must be talking to one of the others, but he was looking straight at me. “You mean it?” I asked. “Of course I meant it. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it,” said Shane. I smiled. Shane smiled back. “I’d love to play,” I said. I felt like crying just then, but it was because I was happy. He turned to the others. “How ‘bout you guys? Maybe we can get up a game?” “What the hell. I guess skating can wait awhile,” said Matt. “I guess we can hold out a little longer,” said Sean wickedly. Nick grinned at him. “Let’s do it then!” said Shane. I had the best time I could remember playing ball with Shane and his friends, and Sean, Nick, and Matt. I almost couldn’t believe that Shane, of all people, would reach out to me and ask me to join him. He must have had a big heart, to forgive me so easily and completely. As we played ball, it was like the past had never been. I was accepted as one of them, and I’d never been more

grateful for anything in my entire life. My respect for Shane was without bounds. I’d been so wrong about him it wasn’t even funny. I’d been wrong about so many things. *** Butterflies dashed around in my stomach as I dialed the phone number. They began to fly around faster and faster as the phone rang. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was so nervous my hands actually trembled. Making a phone call might seem a simple thing, but just dialing the number this time was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. I had to do it, however, I had to make amends. I had to undo the evil I’d done in the past, or at least try. Each ring seemed to take an eternity. I wanted more than anything to just hang up, but I wouldn’t do it. My heart jumped as I heard the receiver click. “Hello?” I took a deep breath. “Hello, Ryan...” *** I put the last pages Sean and I had found back in the journal and placed it carefully in my dresser drawer. Will’s journal was my most prized possession. Sean had given it to me, saying that he knew it meant a lot

more to me than to him. He was right. Will’s journal had changed my life — more than that, it had changed me. I’d done a lot of thinking in the past few days and I do mean a lot. Everything that had happened with Sean, and Nick, and Shane, had really shaken up my world. William, Edward, and Andrew, too, had reached across time and taught me so many things, and for that I was grateful. I had a great many things to sort out in my mind, not the least of which were the deaths of Will and Edward. They’d died long before I was born — even before my parents or grandparents — and yet I grieved over them as if they were friends I’d grown up with, and lost. Will’s journal had brought them back to life for me. I’d experienced their pleasure, and felt their pain. I’d thought and thought, but I still wasn’t sure if I’d been Andrew in a previous life or not. There were too many coincidences to just explain away, but still I didn’t know. I’d heard his spirit speak through Marshall. Could I be his reincarnation while he was still trapped in Graymoor? I didn’t know. In the end, it didn’t matter really, for the journal was as much the story of my life as it was that of William, Edward, and Andrew. I saw so much of myself in those pages that it might as well have been about me. It made me look at my life, and examine what I was doing. Looking at myself had been painful, but I was the better for it. Reading Will’s journal had changed my life forever, and for the better. Will had put his most private

thoughts and feelings down in that journal, things he would have spoken of to no living soul. In doing so, he let me understand him. He let me live his life through his journal. He made me see what I’d been blind to for so very long. A few days after we’d followed Andrew’s spirit to the place of his death, his body was laid to rest in the cemetery just on the edge of Verona, and Sean’s parents paid for the headstone. I hoped that it would help him find peace. Andrew had done some terrible things, but, like all of us, he was driven to take the actions he did. That didn’t make what he’d done right, but it did at least explain why. Andrew had learned from his mistake, even though it was in death. I’d learned from his mistakes, too. I would never do as he had done. I’d never do as I had done either. I patted Will’s journal and closed the drawer; I intended to keep the journal forever. I knew that wherever I went and whatever I might do, it would be with me to remind me of what was important in life. More was in that journal than anyone could ever guess. It was the keeper of secrets — Will’s, Edward’s, Andrew’s... and mine. The End

Information on Mark’s upcoming books can be found at markroeder.com. Those wishing to keep in touch with others who enjoy Mark’s novels can join his fan club at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/markaroederfans.

Other Books by Mark A. Roeder Listed in Suggested Reading Order Outfield Menace Outfield Menace is the tale of Kurt, a fifteen-year-old baseball player, living in a small, 1950s, Indiana town. During a confrontation with Angel, the resident bad boy of Blackford High School, Kurt attacks Angel, earning the wrath of the most dangerous gang in town. When Angel finally corners Kurt, however, something happens that Kurt wouldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams. As the murder of a local boy is uncovered, suspicion is cast upon Angel, but Kurt has learned there’s more to Angel than his bad boy image. Angel has a secret, however, that could get both Kurt and himself killed. Outfield Menace is a story of friendship, love, adventure, and perilous danger. Snow Angel Angel rescued his boyfriend, Kurt, from a hellish existence, but at the cost of exiling himself from his hometown of Blackford, Indiana. Fifteen-years-old and on the run, Angel must make his way until he can fulfill his promise to return to Kurt. Along the way he faces loneliness, hardships, and a brutal blizzard, but makes new friends and finds acceptance he didn’t expect.

Kurt’s life is nearly back to normal, but the love of his life is gone. Kurt is determined not to let Angel’s sacrifice be in vain, but how can he wait three long years for the return his boyfriend had promised him? What will happen when they are reunited at last? Can they be together, or will Kurt and Angel have to run for their lives? Snow Angel is a tale of lovers parted, of survival, and a love that cannot be diminished by distance or time. Ancient Prejudice Break to New Mutiny Mark is a boy who wants what we all want: to love and be loved. His dreams are realized when he meets Taylor, the boy of his dreams. The boys struggle to keep their love hidden from a world that cannot understand, but ultimately, no secret is safe in a small Mid-western town. Ancient Prejudice is a story of love, friendship, understanding, and an age-old prejudice that still has the power to kill. It is a story for young and old, gay and straight. It reminds us all that everyone should be treated with dignity and respect and that there is nothing greater than the power of love. The Soccer Field Is Empty The Soccer Field Is Empty is a revised and much expanded edition of Ancient Prejudice. It is more than 50% longer and views events from the point of view of Taylor, as well as Mark. There is so much new in the

revised edition that it is being published as a separate novel. Soccer Field delves more deeply into the events of Mark and Taylor’s lives and reveals previously hidden aspects of Taylor’s personality. Authors note: I suggest readers new to my books start with Soccer Field instead of Ancient Prejudice as it gives a more complete picture of the lives of Mark and Taylor. For those who wish to read the original version, Ancient Prejudice will remain available for at least the time being. Someone Is Watching It's hard hiding a secret. It's even harder keeping that secret when someone else knows. Someone Is Watching is the story of Ethan, a young high school wrestler who must come to terms with being gay. He struggles first with himself, then with an unknown classmate that hounds his every step. While struggling to discover the identity of his tormentor, Ethan must discover his own identity and learn to live his life as his true self. He must choose whether to give up what he wants the most, or face his greatest fear of all. A Better Place High school football, a hospital of horrors, a long journey, and an unlikely love await Brendan and Casper as they search for a better place...

Casper is the poorest boy in school. Brendan is the captain of the football team. Casper has nothing. Brendan has it all: looks, money, popularity, but he lacks the deepest desire of his heart. The boys come from different worlds, but have one thing in common that no one would guess. Casper goes through life as the “invisible boy”; invisible to the boys that pick on him in school, invisible to his abusive father, and invisible most of all to his older brother, who makes his life a living hell. He can’t believe his good luck when Brendan, the most popular boy in school, takes an interest in him and becomes his friend. That friendship soon travels in a direction that Casper would never have guessed. A Better Place is the story of an unlikely pair, who struggle through friendship and betrayal, hardships and heartbreaks, to find the desire of their hearts, to find a better place. Someone Is Killing The Gay Boys of Verona Someone is killing the gay boys of Verona, Indiana, and only one gay youth stands in the way. He finds himself pitted against powerful foes, but finds allies in places he did not expect. A brutal murder. Gay ghosts. A Haunted VictorianMansion. A cult of hate. A hundred year old ax murder. All this, and more, await sixteen-year-old Sean as he delves into the supernatural and races to discover the murderer before he strikes again.

Someone is Killing the Gay Boys of Verona is a supernatural murder mystery that goes where no gay novel has set foot before. It is a tale of love, hate, friendship, and revenge. The Vampires Heart Ever wonder what it would be like to be fifteen-yearsold forever? Ever wonder how it would feel to find out your best friend is not what he seems? Graham Granger is intrigued by the new boy in school. Graham’s heart aches for a friend, and maybe a boyfriend, but is Josiah the answer to his dreams? Why is Bry Hartnett, the school hunk, taking an interest in Graham as well? When strange happenings begin to occur at Griswold Jr./Sr. High, Graham’s once boring life becomes more exciting than he can handle. Mystery, intrigue, and danger await Graham as he sets out on an adventure he never dreamed possible. Keeper of Secrets Sixteen-year-old Avery is in trouble, yet again, but this time he’s in over his head. On the run, Avery is faced with hardships and fear. He must become what he’s always hated, just to survive. He discovers new reasons to hate, until fate brings him to Graymoor Mansion and he discovers a disturbing connection to the past. Through the eyes of a boy, murdered more than a century before, Avery discovers that all is not as he

thought. Avery is soon forced to face the greatest challenge of all; looking into his own heart. Sean is head over heels in love with his new boyfriend, Nick. There is trouble in paradise, however. Could a boy so beautiful really love plain, ordinary Sean? Sean cannot believe it and desperately tries to transform himself into the ideal young hunk, only to learn that it’s what’s inside that matters. Keeper of Secrets is the story of two boys, one a gay youth, the other an adolescent gay basher. Fate and the pages of a hundred year old journal bring them together and their lives are forever changed.

Do You Know That I Love You The lead singer of the most popular boy band in the world has a secret. A tabloid willing to tell all turns his world upside down. In Do You Know That I Love You, Ralph, a young gay teen living on a farm in Indiana, has an aching crush on a rock star and wants nothing more than to see his idol in concert. Meanwhile, Jordan, the rock star, is lonely and sometimes confused with his success, because all he wants is someone to love him and feels he will never find the love he craves. Do You Know is the story of two teenage boys, their lives, desires, loves, and a shared destiny that allows them both to find peace.

Masked Destiny Masked Destiny is the story of Skye, a high school athlete determined to be the Alpha male. Skye’s obsessed with his own body, his Abercrombie & Fitch wardrobe, and keeping those around him in their place. Try as he might, he’s not quite able to ignore the world around him, or the plight of gay boys that cross his path. Too frightened of what others might think, Skye fails to intervene when he could have saved a boy with a single word. The resulting tragedy, wise words for a mysterious blond boy, and a unique opportunity combine to push Skye toward his destiny. Oliver is young, a bit pudgy, and interested in little more than his books and possibly his first kiss. As he slowly gains courage, he seeks out the friendship of Clay, his dream boy, in hopes they will become more than friends. Oliver is sought out in turn by Ken, who warns him Clay is not at all what he seems, but Ken, too, has his secrets. Oliver must choose between them and discovers danger, a link to boys murdered in the recent past, and the answers to secrets he’d never dreamed. Altered Realities Marshall only wanted to help his friends, to undo the pain of the past, but a few moments of thoughtless action changed everything. Altered Realities is the tale of a changed world. All bets are off. Nothing is as it was and what is to be is transformed too. Mark, Taylor, Ethan, Nathan, Brendan, Casper and nearly the entire

cast of the Gay Youth Chronicles come together in a tapestry of tales as they all try to deal with the consequences of Marshall’s actions. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Dead Het Boys Marshall’s experiences with ghosts and the supernatural are legendary, but when a boy a hundred-years dead turns up in his bedroom with the cryptic message “Blackford Manor,” Marshall realizes his adventures with the other side have only began. As more specters appear to Marshall, he begins to assemble the pieces of a puzzle that lead him to Graymoor Mansion and a set of crimes more heinous than those of modern day serial killers. Just over a year ago, Sean’s best friend, Marty, was murdered and Sean narrowly escaped the same fate. Now, the evil four, a group of boys who were involved with the death of Marty, have returned. Sean, Skye, and the other gay boys of Verona can do little more than watch and wait for the terror to begin again. Soon, Skye learns of a psychopathic homophobe who is in league with his enemies. Things take a curious turn, however, when one of the evil four is brutally murdered. Suspicion turns to Skye. Has he finally gone too far to protect his friends? Skye isn’t the only one with a motive, however. All the gay boys of Verona are suspect. This time around, the shoe is on the other foot.

This Time Around What happens when a TV evangelist struggles to crush gay rights? Who better to halt his evil plans than the most famous rock star in the world? This Time Around follows Jordan and Ralph as they become involved in a struggle with Reverend Wellerson, a TV evangelist, over the fate of gay youth centers. Wellerson is willing to stop at nothing to crush gay rights and who better to halt his evil plans than the most famous rock star in the entire world? While battling Wellerson, Jordan seeks to come to terms with his own past and learn more about the father he never knew. The excitement builds when an assassin is hired and death becomes a real possibility for Jordan and those around him. Jordan is forced to face his own fears and doubts and the battle within becomes more dangerous than the battle without. Will Jordan be able to turn from the path of destruction, or is he doomed to follow in the footsteps of his father? This time around, things will be different. The Summer of My Discontent The Summer of My Discontent is a tapestry of tales delving into life as a gay teen in a small Midwestern town. Dane is a sixteen-year-old runaway determined to start a new life of daring, love, and sex—no matter the cost to himself, or others. His actions bring him to the brink of disaster and only those he sought to prey upon can

save him. Among Dane’s new found “friends” are a young male prostitute and the local grave robber who becomes his despised employer. The boys of A Better Place are back—Ethan, Nathan, Brendan, and Casper are once again dealing with trouble in Verona, Indiana. Drought and circumstance threaten their existence and they struggle together to save themselves from blackmail, financial collapse, and temptation. Brendan must cope with anonymity after being one of the most popular boys in school. Casper must face his own past—the loss of his father and the fate of his abusive brother, who is locked away in the very hospital of horrors from which Brendan escaped. Letters from his brother force Casper to question his feelings—is Jason truly a monster or can he change? Dark, foreboding, and sexy—The Summer of My Discontent is the tale of gay teens seeking to find themselves, each other, and a better place. Disastrous Dates & Dream Boys Disastrous Dates & Dream Boys is the story of teenaged boys who want what we all want, to love and be loved. The boys from A Better Place are back. Shawn yearns for a boyfriend, but fears his father’s wrath if he discovers the truth. Dane, too, is seeking a soul mate and trying to leave his checkered past behind. He yearns for Billy, but if he approaches him will the result be happiness or disaster? Brendan has created a

new life for himself and his boyfriend, Casper, but what happened in his old hometown haunts him and he realizes he must face his father if he is to ever be at peace. Nathan also has issues to resolve with the parents who gave him and his little brother up far too easily. Disastrous Dates & Dream Boys is a tale of fathers & sons, lovers & friends, and above all love and understanding. Phantom World Toby Riester is sixteen, gay, and searching for his first boyfriend. He discovers many potential candidates— Orlando, a cute sixteen year old boy of Latin ancestry who works with Toby at the Phantom World amusement park—C.T., a blond, seventeen year old who is obviously gay—and Spike, a well-built sixteen year old from the internet. Each boy has his own seductive qualities and each is more than his seems. One of them, however, is far more dangerous than Toby ever guessed. Orlando finds himself a girlfriend at Phantom World, but that’s only the beginning of his story. When he meets his girlfriend’s twin brother, Kerry, his world is turned upside down. Mackenzie Riester is the athletic younger brother of Toby. He has little respect for his queer big brother and joins with his new found friend, Billy, in playing an elaborate practical joke on Toby that becomes more perilous than he ever dreamed.

Phantom World is the story of three very different boys—their triumphs, heartaches, and their search for love and acceptance. Second Star To The Right Cedi, a eighteen-year-old British import to the town of Blackford, Indiana, is determined to be a rock star. No one quite knows what to make of the new wild boy in town with his blue hair and overpoweringenthusiasm—not the jocks he torments in revenge, nor his new friends Toby and Orlando. Cedi is certain of his future until his path crosses that of Thad, a tall, dark, older man who tells Cedi he has no talent. Cedi is infuriated, but intrigued. He becomes obsessed with Thad, who wants nothing to do with him. Cedi isn’t about to give up, however, and wedges his way into Thad’s life. Cedi finds himself caught between his love for Thad and his dream. Just when he has what he thinks he wants, his adventure truly begins... The Perfect Boy A specter from the past haunts the halls of Blackford High School, terrorizing anyone who preys on the weak. Rumors say that a Goth/skater boy controls the ghost, but can the rumor be true? A mysterious new boy catches the eye of Toby and his new friend, Daniel Peralta as well. The new boy seems too perfect to be real. Is he or will be become the boy of Toby’s or Daniel’s dreams?

Cedi is living his fantasy—touring with Phantom, the most popular band in the world. Cedi can’t quite forget Thad, the older, mysterious novelist he’s left behind, but is quickly pulled into a world of concerts, autograph signings, and press conferences. Cedi takes an interest in Ross. Ross has his own demons, however, that may forever prevent him from loving anyone but the man of his dreams. The Graymoor Mansion B&B Is turning a haunted mansion into a Bed & Breakfast such a good idea? Sean and his family think so, except for Avery, who believes guests will be scared away by disembodied voices, candles that light themselves, and the ghostly reenactment of the notorious Graymoor Ax Murders. When the gay boys of Verona went their separate ways, Verona was more at peace than it had been in ages. Skye, the local champion of gay boys, has been gone for five long years, however, and much has changed in his absence. Sean and Nick lived apart during their college years. They’ve eagerly anticipated their reunion, but what will happen when Ross, the drummer for Phantom, comes to stay at Graymoor with the band? Is Nick over his Ross obsession—or is there trouble ahead? Jordan and Ralph have long considered starting a family, but can they surmount the obstacles that stand in their way? The gay boys of Verona, old and new, are together once again.