A Zombie Love Story

[Toon]

Author's note: Hi guys. I started working on this story earlier this Summer, but had a heart attack somewhere near the middle of it. The story was obviously put on a back burner while I was hospitalized and then later recovering. I blame no one but myself and my fondness for cigarettes along with any kind of alcohol I happened to have on hand. I'd never once written a story here on BZ while not smoking and drinking. I wondered if I'd ever finish "A Zombie Love Story" without my Marlboro Lights and a beer next to me. I'd lost interest in even trying. Eventually, I returned to this tale with a real desire to finish it. It was like a neglected child to me. I'd changed and my writing style had changed. "Zombie" got much longer as well as more detailed and personal. It's quite long but if you just want to go to the sex scenes, It wouldn't hurt my feelings. Just skip to parts 4, 10 and 12.

I've got open heart surgery scheduled for a week. I'll be M.I.A. for a long time. I really want to crank out one more story before then but we'll wait and see. Be well, be hard and get your blood pressure checked often. Strokes and heart failure can happen at any age.

Toon

 

 

art by ToonKC

 

 

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION

1.

The Zombie Apocalypse happened decades ago and you probably didn't even know it since it was very localized and happened before the Internet really took off. It wasn't anything like what we've all seen in movies. I could get in real trouble for repeating any of this and even once signed a document saying I'd never reveal even the smallest detail. So if you never see my screen name again, it means they caught me and I'm rotting away in some federal prison. That's okay -- I'm rotting already.

2.

1990  Bollard, Kansas

The zombies first appeared that October, a few days after my 18th birthday. Bollard is a small agricultural town not too far from Wichita (which was a huge city to me back then). The centerpiece of our town was a row of ten giant grain elevators. We were next to railroad tracks and surrounded by wheat. corn and soy bean farms. Our 'downtown' was nothing to brag about but there was a pool hall where I ended up spending many quarters playing whatever heap of a pinball machine they had. The customer base at Randy's consisted of retired farmers, day drinkers and delinquents. I hadn't claimed a label of my own yet when I first went there as a kid, but it's pretty much where I turned bad. It turns out there was an illegal  bar and poker table in back of this really grimy grocery next door store where nobody I knew ever bought actual food. It was tiny, dim and smelled like old fruit. Old guys would go in and not come out for hours.  It was just one of those places you went when you needed to get drunk in a very dry county. Fucking Kansas. 

I made most of my friends at the pool hall. Mitch, Mike, Mac, Kurt, Ted -- all bad students and very eager to get out of this town. It isn't so hard to be friends with black sheep when you're an undersized, anti-social little nerd. Most of them had access to cars because they grew up on farms where kids learn to drive very early. They also knew how to get their hands on booze, weed and cigarettes. I'm not endorsing tobacco use, but other smokers tend to be pretty sociable if you also have a cig in your mouth. So my peer group smelled and coughed a lot -- so what? I was also pals with the bad girls they inevitably ended up with. Big tits, cheap jewelry, too much makeup, filthy mouths and strong sexual appetites. I was of no real interest to them except as as a 'buddy'.  I listened to them and that seemed to be enough since they barely even listened to each other. I was just a misfit who fell in with other misfits. 

Probably the biggest misfit/oddball/castoff of all was Robbie Tyler. I'd known him since the first day of kindergarten even though he sometimes went to 'special' classrooms. We all naturally assumed he was maybe retarded or something, but he was actually a genius. Genius! Seriously? He couldn't sit still, couldn't concentrate and often talked or sang to himself. He was always reading but never turned in assignments. Robbie was mostly shunned in grade school but somehow fell into my crowd after junior high. He was good for a laugh.  I tried getting to know him at times, but it was like talking to some crazy radio that kept changing stations and volume. For whatever reason, he'd seek me out during the school day and at our little delinquent gatherings. The others, while mostly tolerant of this guy, seemed grateful that I kept him from wrecking their buzz. Babysitter. "Hey Scott...come get this tard away from me." I always did and was usually repaid with a free beer.

And then the most bizarre rumors started. I first heard about it from my parents at the breakfast table. My dad was a chemist or something at the grain elevator. I was never sure because I never bothered to ask. My mom was a volunteer at the nursing home on Pine Street. Apparently, Mrs. Marn Johanson was telling a crazy tale about how she found her husband lying dead in the backyard vegetable garden. I guess she checked for a pulse and everything. After she went in to call for an ambulance, he disappeared. He was technically just 'missing' according to the county sheriff. She swears he was dead...very, very dead. She was not known to be a kook or a drinker - so nobody knew quite what to think. She was just an ordinary, old Kansas farm wife.  

Any unusual news spreads fast in a small town. It wasn't even in our sad little newspaper but people talked about it.

"Oh, I'm sure he's dead somewhere," Dad announced after his second cup of coffee, "but he's probably out in one of his fields or pastures."

Mom was usually quiet in the mornings, but this had captured her attention. "She swears up and down that he was dead. Why would she make that up?"

"She's in her 70's...probably Alzheimers. My uncle Joe got it when he was only 58."

I just ate my cereal and kept quiet. Maybe coyotes carried his carcass away while she was on the phone. We'd had a very long drought and wild animals were doing anything they could to survive. Aliens? I believed very much in extraterrestrials back then. But what could they want with some old guy's dead body? I didn't think much more about it until I got to school where everyone was talking about the supposed 'body snatchers'. Study hall was my first class and we usually just played Uno for an hour, but today the missing corpse was too important to not discuss. There were a few serious students in first period and they usually read or proofread homework but even they were talking about old Mr. Johanson.

"I think God took his body so he could remove the soul." Good old Kimberly Clark. She was kind of slow, very religious and cross-eyed. 

"Maybe he was just faking and wanted to leave her fat ass."

"She probably just dreamed it."

I let them all talk while I wandered off to somewhere quiet. Of course Robbie followed me. I guess we were friends or something but I really wanted some peace. "Scotty! Are you prepared for Judgement Day?! Ha ha. Seriously...have you ever had a blood transfusion?"

What the fuck? "No. Why?"

"Because you can't be resurrected if you have transferred blood or replacement joints or fake organs."

"I don't care. I don't even want to come back..I just want to feed the worms."

"Yeah...but what if you no longer had that option? What if there is no death anymore?"

I'd never thought about it, Robbie was wearing moccasins that had been worn so long that you could see the you could see the outline of his toes through the leather. "Jesus, Robbie! I can't deal with you today!" Some heads in the room swiveled around to look our way. The bell rang and I was relived to go to my AP English class. 

The story didn't go away. My own mother was convinced something weird was happening. She came home from her shift at the nursing home and reported that two of the residents had vanished. "They were both on the brink of death with failing hearts. Mrs. Bynum couldn't even walk and needed Oxygen, but she was gone and her tank was still in the room. How on Earth could she just disappear??"

Dad had no answers which made me uncomfortable. Parents - especially dads - were supposed to know everything. It can come as a heavy blow when you realize your mom and dad are just human beings after all. We did what we always did which was go about our routine as if everything was normal. Things were not normal. New stories about walking corpses were popping up daily. Tracy Brewer ( a junior) claimed she had seen a naked old man wandering through her backyard. She was one of the popular kids and not known to be a liar. It wasn't one of those old legends like the famous talking skeleton that was supposedly lurking near Burke Creek. This was so new and random, and seemed to be spreading fast. New sightings were popping up almost weekly. My sort-of buddy Mac claimed he'd seen one behind his dad's shed and shot it in the head with his own rifle and the thing didn't do anything but slow down a little. Christ. Mac was known for a lot of petty crimes but nobody could call him a bullshitter. 

3.

Looking back, it was the dumbass owner/editor of our town's newspaper that took everything to a horrible new level...

   This will be the first and LAST time this particular issue will addressed by our publication. There are ridiculous rumors being spread around town and they need to stop now!! This proud       Christian township is above supernatural voodoo gossip. THERE ARE NO WALKING CORPSES here are anywhere!!!! WE ARE TOO GOOD FOR THIS! It can only damage our reputation and  future   economic prospects. If you claim to believe any of this rubbish you should probably seek spiritual counseling at your nearest church! 

Anybody on my school paper's newspaper could write better than this idiot. He was a known drunk and his daughter Amy was the biggest pot head at BHS. Hardly anybody ever even glanced at The Bollard Gazette -- but somebody somewhere did. The national guard moved in four days later. And then it got even more serious. Helicopters were constantly circling above. Everybody's phone service was cut off, mail didn't go in or out and blockades were set up at every route out of town. Even the tiniest dirt roads were guarded with some seriously armed weaponry. It all happened so fucking fast. 

"How are we supposed to buy things we need??" Mom was so stressed out that she couldn't do anything but shake and cry. Dad just angry and stomped around letting his blood pressure climb to dangerous levels. He only ever got this way when he couldn't go to work.

There was no school but a bunch of us gathered there at the locked front doors for answers to frantically talked questions. That's how I found out that  there was a big town meeting being called at the football field next to the park. The government or somebody was going to finally tell us what was going on. Attendance wasn't mandatory, but no way was anybody going to miss it. It was happening that evening at 6 PM. Wild speculations were flying around over,under and through my range of hearing. I got dizzy from the hysteria and decided to just take a walk somewhere quiet. Probably not the best idea to want solitude when nobody was at work or in school because there was always a person wandering somewhere. But the last place I knew of where a normal human would never go during a zombie invasion was a cemetery...so that was my destination. How dangerous could it be if there weren't even any army guys guarding it? The town was small but very old and so the graveyard was pretty large. There were gravestones dating back to 1870. 

It was as peaceful and lonely as I'd imagined it would be. It was a perfect Hollywood stereotype of what an old rural cemetery should like like a few weeks before Halloween. Yellow, brown and orange leaves skittered around my feet and made that weirdly comfortable crunching sound with each step. I'd only been here a few times in my life and never all the way to its farthest boundaries. There was a row of hedge trees at the end and I finally saw them up close. Nothing special. There was a slight stench of the rotting hedge apples on the ground. They're ugly and not edible to humans (as far as I know). I knew that country guys threw them like snowballs at each other. Gross. I didn't really believe in a god, but I always thanked some force in the universe that my dad wasn't a farmer. Just being gay was hard enough without the added pressure of being forced into mundane chores and the like. Kids born into farm life don't get to be kids very long. Yeah, I was gay. GAY. I didn't let myself dwell on that detail very often if I could help it. 

Of course my peace would be interrupted. About 80 feet away was somebody walking around. Fucking hell. I wondered if it could be one of the 'living dead'. I hadn't seen one yet. Just as I got a little excited I realized it was just a regular alive person. Well, not 'regular' -- it was fucking Robbie. Last person I wanted to see. He was quickly loping along in that singularly retarded way anyone could immediately recognize. 

4.

"Hey Scotty!" Nobody had called me that since junior high.

"Just 'Scott' will do, thank you."

"Oh! I'm so so very sorry, Mr. Lonely Scott," he said with a British accent for some reason. "What are you doing out here?"

"Uh - I wanted to be alone and not talk to people." I emphasized the word 'alone', but of course he didn't take a hint.

"But, there are zombies lurking about!" (still with the British accent) So far, there was no reports of these so-called zombies hurting anyone. There was a sense they just weren't the least bit menacing. Supposedly. His eyes  were wide open with mock terror. Damn - if he cleaned himself up a little and stopped acting crazy, I'd possibly consider him 'hot'. I wasn't currently attracted to him but my tone changed.

"Is there anything not weird about you, Robbie?" I offered him a hint of a smile.

"Maybe...but I try to rid myself of any trait that would be deemed acceptable or expected."

"Obviously."

"I usually only come out here at night, but the Ouija board told me I'd find you here today."

"Yeah. Whatever." 

"No. Really. That's also how I knew you were gay and would probably want to suck my big dick."

Fucking retard. "Are you insane? I've been the only person in town to ever give you a chance, and now you say shit like that?! I'm going home." I walked away and felt my cheeks get warm with something that wasn't entirely what you'd call 'anger'. 

As I stomped back toward the entrance. I was embarrassed,disturbed and yet also curious. How did he know? I'd tried so hard to suppress any kind of homo signals I might possibly give off. I can remember the word for word definition of 'fellatio' in our big dictionary at home:

  Oral stimulation of the penis

I was probably only 11 or 12 years old when I chanced upon that word and I knew I wanted to do that to a man. I'd imagined how a penis would feel in my mouth and how it would taste -- many, many times. I'd even tried to suck my own dick but only succeeded in spontaneously having my first ejaculation all over my face. Puberty may have been delayed for a few years but masturbation found me early.

I'd wanted a dick - any dick -for so long. Was relief from this fever, this lust be worth having that penis belong to Robbie? I was so unsure, but found myself turning around  back to him....only to find he had been following me as I pondered. His fly was open and his big ol' organ was completely hard, purple and oozing. 

"I...I guess...we could go hang out back by the trees." My voice sounded like a child's.

"No way. Look how close I am...I'll shoot my load before we get back there. Now. Here."

"No! What if somebody sees?!"

Robbie nodded toward a little family mausoleum and I followed him as if I were in a trance.  It was a limestone structure that was about the size of a 7-11. And I swear the temperature was 20 degrees warmer behind it. I took off my yellow windbreaker and Robbie dropped his pants completely. Of course he didn't have to give me instructions -- I already knew what I wanted and how I wanted to do it. I knelt down at his feet and immediately put my lips to the dripping head of his dick. I remember the first thing I noticed is that there wasn't a bad taste or smell at all. I guess I expected everything down there to be nasty, but I could tell he'd recently showered. That in itself was odd because this guy had always looked a little unwashed to me. There was no school to be fresh for and there had been whispers about how the town's water supply being cut off. Bollard citizens had pretty much let their personal hygiene go by the wayside these days. Possibly Robbie knew I'd be here after all.

I have to chuckle now when I look back on this because my appetite was no competition for my damn gag reflex. It's always been an issue for me. Even today, my brain tells me I could deep-throat the empire state building but once a dick gets a little past the back of my tongue, I come close to vomiting. Every. fucking. time. 

"It's okay, Scotty...take just the tip for now. Feels so good!" I found a good rhythm that seemed to be good for both of us and he started thrusting his narrow hips while holding the back of my head. "I'm almost there."

Now was the moment I'd never bothered to plan for. His thrusts became spasms before I could really think too much about it. Sperm. I now had hot sperm from another man's penis in my mouth -- all over my tongue, gums and teeth. Everybody uses words like "shoot" or "erupt", but this was so gentle and slow. It was like getting tablespoons of hot, heavenly honey poured between my lips. You could almost even call it romantic. But what now? I also hadn't planned on what I might feel afterward. I just stood back up and felt what I would later realize was fear and vulnerability. 

"Thanks, Scotty. That was amazing." He took his time putting that fat penis away as it slowly softened. 

"I..I.."

"Hush, baby. You feel weird, don't you?" 

'Weird' was hardly a big enough word for my emotions. It was maybe more like 'fear'. 

"No. I guess. A little."

"It was your first time -- at least that's what the Ouija board told me."

"Enough! Give me a minute before you start in with your bullshit." We walked a full ten seconds before he had to start talking again.

"I come out here all the time."

"To the cemetery? Why?"

"You really don't know about this place? About what goes on here?"

"No. What?"

"Well, there are about four gay guys in this town and a few more who are curious. I won't name names, but one of them lives on your block." 

We stayed quiet for a bit and crunched the leaves beneath us. I let him set the walking pace which was slowing down. I almost hated the lack of conversation now. I needed noise and time and other unnameable things. I think I wanted to have had this experience but also forget it ever happened. "So you come out here and let them give you blow jobs?" 

"Oh yeah. I do lots of stuff here. I get sucked, suck and fuck and a few other things." Fucking? I had only a vague idea of what gay men did for sex. I knew the gist of it from all the AIDS pamphlets we were given over the years. We had this information but any discussion of it in the classroom was forbidden by the school board. I knew I wanted a man to fuck me even though I couldn't even begin to imagine it.

"Aren't you worried about AIDS"

"Hell no. I like the dangerous edge of a deadly disease now. Once you get used to fucking it get's a little bit like watching reruns...you want new things. I once pissed on a guy - his idea-and I really liked it." 

"But aren't you scared of getting really, really sick? Before they cut our cable services here I saw a documentary about people with AIDS. Scary shit! Some people go blind and you get these weird sores all over your face face."

"Was any of that happening anywhere near fucking Bollard, Kansas?"

He had a point. "No...the scariest thing about this town is the zombies and even they are harmless." Maybe he was healthy. "But I thought you wanted danger?"

"Oh I found my danger, don't you worry."

"What? Where? "

"I'll show you eventually, Scotty. Be patient for now because we need to get a few things settled first."

"Oh. Okay. Such as what?" He was quiet for awhile which was very unusual for Robbie. No humming, whistling or saying random words under his breath. It's at that point that I felt a little scared...a small cold pebble of fear was forming in my stomach. 

"The way I see it, Scotty...you are trapped now. I can blackmail you. I could get anything from you now. I could threaten to tell the whole school or even your parents what you sucked my dick and swallowed my semen unless you agree to give me cash. Your family has more money than most people around here."

Fuck fuck fuck. I needed to sit down because my heart was racing and I couldn't breathe. I just plopped down on the dead leaves and leaned back on a cold granite gravestone. "Nobody listens to you, asshole. They have all tuned you out since the second grade. You're words mean nothing." I was nearly eye-level with his crotch again. 

"Maybe, maybe. But remember our school is full of social sharks...even a hint of your sexuality would be like the smell of blood to them. They might call me a 'liar' but they'll be watching you more closely. You want the last six months of high school to be a living nightmare?"

5.

I just couldn't help but stare at the zipper of his ancient jeans. I was trapped like an animal but I still admired the hefty bulge of the penis I'd sampled only a few minutes ago. "I...I... How much money do you want. I have less than three hundred dollars in my savings account. I won't have access to the trust fund my grandpa left for me until I'm 25." Robbie tussled my hair with his long fingers and sat down next to me. "Relax. I won't say a word...on one condition: You have to be my friend."

"That's all?"

"That's my final offer. I would've said 'and you have to be in love with me' but I am willing to settle for just your friendship. For now. Oh, and you have to spend Halloween weekend with me. Three full days of just you and me"

I was so relieved. I thought he had me over a barrel. I could be his pal but I didn't think I had the capacity to "love". I could say 'I love you' to family members and such without once meaning it. I was probably missing that chromosome (thanks to Dad's side of the family). I agreed to his terms and he helped me to my feet again. The pact having been made, we continued walking toward the cemetery's entrance. It crept me out how silent he was. I needed to break the silence. "Are you going to the big meeting tonight?" He just shrugged. 

"Why? They're just going to lie to us. There's some kind of contagion here and they'll claim it's a rare virus or pollution or something."

After living through the Reagan administration and two years of George Bush Sr., I had absolutely no reason to trust our government. "Then what is it? What's causing this?"

"Smell the air, my new best friend...You can always detect a hint of pesticide or herbicide or fungicide or fertilizer riding every breeze. We are contaminated. The chemicals are in our water,air and soil. Agriculture is the culprit. A very specific mixture just happened to occur right here, above the aquifer or maybe upwind from something 

"That's your theory?"

"Yup. I suppose it could be some kind of military testing, but that's such a horror movie cliche. Still...Did you see 'Return of the Living Dead'?"

"No. I wanted to but, now, I guess I never will now. You saw it?"

"Yeah. Twice. My guardian hardly ever let's me use her car so I walked all the way to Wichita. I can do it any time I want. I'm going to take you there sometime soon. Show you my source of danger." That was one long walk!

A bunch of questions wanted to come out but I kept quiet. How could we get to Wichita when the army was surrounding the town. What was this so-called 'danger' he was so enamored with...and why? We were almost to the front gate when he abruptly stopped and grabbed my hand which reminded me of how big his hands were (or how little mine were).

"Kiss me. Scotty." I eagerly stretched my neck up as our lips met. It was my first kiss. I suddenly understood why people kissed in the first place. It was a common connection to something glorious. In exactly none of my pornographic fantasies were lips used for anything other than sweaty sex acts. I might have just now tasted love for the first time in my life. 

Voices. Other people were near us now and I wanted to let go of Robbie's giant hand but he just grasped mine harder. Small panic. "Dude -- there's a bunch of people wandering around on the street -- they can see us." He just squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"There are much bigger stories happening all around us, Scotty. Two best friends holding hands is hardly headline news right now." 

A felt a drop of cold sweat creep down my forehead. So many things had happened in the last hour. I was now glad he was sharing his strength with me, an unfamiliar confidence he was now charging me with. Who knew a simple touch could accomplish so much? I had needed this my whole life. I suddenly didn't really care about what people thought or said about me. Instead of going home to meet my parents to get ready for the town meeting I just walked through the park near our public swimming pool, long since drained and locked up. Robbie and I just talked about our lives and dreams, fears and hopes, everything...and then some. I felt a little relieved that he'd resumed his regular routine of crazy babbling, singing and oddly accurate imitations of celebrities like Jesse Jackson, Mae West and that sergeant guy from 'Full Metal Jacket'. It was mesmerizing and comfortably distracting now.

Following my new friend's lead, we'd made our way to the grimy 'speakeasy' located in the back of that shitty grocery store I mentioned earlier in the tale. "We should get good and drunk as we toast our agreement."

I guess it was cool because Robbie's legal guardian was a regular there, slumped at the bar with probably her fifth or sixth cocktail clenched in one fat hand. 

"Hey Ed, Henry and Joe...and hello to you too, Donna." She looked at him with a bewildered, angry squint.

"What the hell are you doin' here? And who is this kid?"

"This my friend, Scott. I've mentioned him several times."

"You? With a friend? HA!" 

"Fuck off, you old cow. Hey barkeep...two vodka tonics if you please." He was talking with an Italian accent now. I just stood there embarrassed, feeling as if was on Mars. 

"We ain't got no tonic you dumb-ass. I got 7-Up if that works." 

"Forget it, Clyde. Just two double shots of whiskey...and put it on Donna's tab." She let loose with a string of slurred curse words as we made our way through the cigar haze to a wobbly little table.

"SHE is your guardian??"

"Not anymore. Once I turned 18, her obligation officially ended. Luckily she has no idea how old I am or even when my birthday is."

"When was your birthday?" 

"Yesterday. I'm actually 19 now...I got held back a year because they thought I was 'delayed'. I've got one or two mental issues."

"Possibly three, Robbie." He laughed, "But happy birthday anyway."

We clinked the barely-clean glasses of Wild Turkey and sat there, just looking into each other's eyes like two infatuated characters in an old movie. 

"What time is it? My mom and dad are probably wondering where I am."

"Your parents seem like the kind of people who go everywhere early just to get decent parking. Am I right?"

He was indeed right...eerily so. 'Getting a good seat' was also a priority of theirs. I noticed the grimy illuminated clock above the shelf of liquor bottles. It read 1:30 PM.  By 6, the whole town would have worked itself into a massive panic that would never be even slightly tempered. I wasn't looking forward to the event. 

"Want to blow the meeting off?"

"Great idea, Scotty. Let's go back to my house and take a little nap. I need to take some pills anyway. Sound good?"

"Sure."

We drained our shots and headed back out onto Main Street. There was a textbook October feel in the air as we walked South toward his place. I didn't know what to expect. Would he want sex again? I wasn't sure I was ready for anything more than what we'd already done. 

"What are you looking so serious about?"

"Oh...I don't know. Just thinking. Maybe I was thinking that you wasted one of the wishes your genie gave you."

"Huh?"

"You didn't have to bribe me to be your friend, you psycho son of a bitch.  I was already your friend." 

6.

Here's the gist of what some shifty by-the-book military guy told Bollard citizens that evening:

1. The 'specimens' had all been contained as of now.  He never once used the word 'zombie'.

2. They were not dangerous and posed no immediate threat. There'd been no evidence that they were contagious but warned us to 'stay away from them in them as a precaution'.

3. Many services would be restored within 24 hours. Fuel, food, safe water would soon be available to us at no cost. The phones would be working again, but only to contact a government  number for questions and/or concerns. Mail, however, was 'temporarily' subject to censorship. It seemed that all of this was being done to protect us. 

4. The president had decided our whole area would soon become a national park.  For that reason, the blockade would remain until relocation was complete. He assured us that we would be well compensated for our property and inconvenience. 

That's it.

My parents and I ambled home and Dad was infuriated by all that was not said. "What about our jobs? What caused this? What about Scott's education? How's he going to graduate after not completing his final semester?" He continued ranting as Mom stared at her walking feet, silently mouthing little words. Praying. Everyone on our block was gathering on each other's porches, talking up a storm. It was the kind of thing that usually happened on lazy Summer evenings with fireflies dotting the air above perfect lawns. The kids would race up and down the block and adults discretely passed a bottle or two (or five) of wine. The first voice I heard after I was almost home was Mrs. Vogel's from next door... 

"I just want to know if this is going to be over before Christmas. My sister and her family were supposed to come up here from Texas." 

That was were biggest concern? Seriously? The Vogels had a son my age but we never hung out much. Even as a little kid, he was rough, sports-loving guy. Toby Vogel. The big news in 8th grade was that he had lost his virginity to Kim Ratzlaff, the biggest slut in the grade above us. A year later, half of the guys in my class supposedly had sex whereas I hadn't so much as seen a dirty magazine. After our freshman year, people having sex was not even that big a deal to anyone but me. Toby was sitting on our porch swing when the crowd had moved over to our porch.  We made eye contact so I guess I had to at least go over and say hi. 

"Hey, Scott. Where's your gang of scuzzballs?" Me and the other losers were known by that term even though we ourselves preferred 'Scuzzies'. So much for trying to be friendly. People never change - even when the world is ending. 

I moved over with the adults and listened in. My dad's metabolism wasn't meant to handle any amount of alcohol but at least drinking made him something you'd be tempted to call 'friendly'. "You feeling okay, Dad?" 

"Son...I don't want you to ever worry about me. Save all worries for yourself...and...and your mother. Have a seat, Son." We plopped down on the porch steps as the sun sank almost out of sight. "I think this is all a bunch of horse shit, ya know? The government has been lying to us since Kennedy was shot. Ya know? Vietnam and all that shit. All bullshit." I hated being around him when he was drunk. Mom hated it too and I saw her slip back inside the house to go to bed.

"You should go get some sleep, Pop." He just looked down at his hands and - God help me - I think he was crying. As if he had timed it perfectly, Robbie crossed the newly-lit street light right across from our house. Perfect. I needed to get away from this place in the worst way.

He walked very slowly in case I didn't see him, but I know I would have sensed him as if I were a drug-sniffing dog and he was a bag of uncut heroin. I left my dad to his misery and hurried across the street. I didn't care who saw us together. I felt a kind of joy that had been totally alien to me until now. Relief, lust, affection, appreciation....maybe this is what it felt like to 'fall in love'. ? Looking back now, I can say that if it wasn't love, then it was something very close to it.

Robbie hadn't come here solely for romance however. There'd been a party-ish sort of get-together of the Scuzzies in the works for tonight. I'd pretty much been Robbie's only connection to these lowliest of trashy social events, and I mostly just got him in and then rudely left him to his own weirdness after we'd arrived. Apparently, one of the army guys sold Kurt Stucky a keg of beer in some discrete encounter. 'It weren't no grunt, Either. t was an officer or somethin'', he claimed. Beer was beer.  

I was still wearing the same clothes I'd worn this morning, but Robbie looked freshly groomed and had changed his shirt. 

"Guess what? Donna is passed out on her bedroom floor and I just took her car keys. I parked down by the school in case you didn't remember what the car looked like." 

"How does she support the two of you?"

"She has a long list of ex-husbands who either died or divorced her fat ass. Never got a baby from any of them and so she wanted to bring in foster kids. After me, she decided to never do that again." He laughed casually and I tried to do the same. It had always been difficult for me to imagine kids who'd been through some major life event. I couldn't even pretend to know what it was like to go through a divorce or to move four states away and start a knew school. I couldn't imagine my mom as a single woman because - to me - she was never meant to be anything but my mother and my dad's wife. She and I were alike in that we weren't particularly strong or adaptable. My dad was pretty strong, I guess, but he loved being in a rut and doing the same thing every day. We all did.

"Did you ever know your real mom and dad?"

"I remember my mom being some sort of hippie chick. It's all a little fuzzy. I almost remember the night she left and never came back." He sounded somewhat like the little boy all men secretly still are. Deep down inside, you can hear your child voice crying, laughing or just babbling away. 

"Jesus. That must have been so tough. I'm so sorry, Rob." People say that, but I really was sorry that any kid would have to go through that. Dad always said 'Some people just get dealt a bad hand' but that seemed so dismissive and had never really helped me process tragedy in a healthy way. 

"Why? I just roll with the punches, you know? And...", he grabbed my hand and pulled it up to the hard lump in his crotch, " it's how I ended up here with you now. That counts for something."

"It's warm for late October. Maybe we've got an ozone hole above us or something." He laughed at my half-assed attempt to change the subject. I'm so lame sometimes.

"It's good weather for drinking beer...and adventure! Rowwwrr!" I had no idea what he meant by all that. Was it a sex thing? "I come alive when the air is like this, Scotty." Okay. Whatever. I suppose it was a relief to have the crazy version of Robbie back again. It would give me some time to think about him and us and sex and HIV and whether or not I wanted to risk being gay full-time. My brain had a huge 'in' box and a sadly empty 'out' box.

We came to his foster mom's car that was parked at the corner of Olive street. It was nicer than what you'd imagine a piece of white trash like Donna would own. I was kind of surprised that it had no drunken dents, rust or stupid right-wing bumper stickers. "That looks like it came directly from the showroom floor." 

"It pretty much did. Hey, do you know how to get there? To the thing tonight?"

"Yeah. It's on that dirt road just West of the Entz farm. The one with the half-finished barn that's been that way for ten years."  

"I admire that that kind of structure." Of course he did; it was half out of the bag. "Are we going to be fashionably late?"

"No. Probably a little early."

"Even better."

He put in a cassette tape and played music from some group called 'The Dead Milkmen'. I'd never heard of them and the songs were not all that good. Not at all. Then I felt a small stab of  panic. "Try not to be extra weird tonight, Robbie. And please don't do anything that's..."

"That's gay? Is that what you were going to request I not be?" Yeah. That sounded a little blunt, but anything to blow my/our secret would be a disaster. Right? "Don't worry, Scotty. I understand but I wish you didn't care." I nodded. There really is no such thing as free beer for people like he and I.

7.

We arrived in less than two minutes and the Autumn sunset was starting its garish show of signature pinkish-orange colors. I almost wished Robbie and I could just go watch it alone somewhere. Beer didn't even sound good to me right then. We parked along an impoverished little road that was so underused that during warmer months, weeds grew down the middle of it. The nearest army blockade was over a mile away. The dry soil had been cleared of stalks and was just a bunch of dry clods now, ready to be planted with wheat. Or something wheat-like. My dad knew everything about crops and harvests and all that but I never paid much attention. All I knew about farming was that a whole bunch of dumb, sweaty young guys with bad teeth  migrated through the area during the wheat harvesting season that lasted about three weeks during the Summer. Many of them were Mexican. They were exotic and erotic in equal measure to my eyes. I wondered if they fooled around with guys as well as girls. I know that Rhonda Breur got fucked by one of them in a weedy ditch last June and then went through her whole sophomore  year with the nickname 'Ditch Witch'. 

We parked about fifty yards away from the small gathering alongside Mac's dad's farm truck. There were five people there already. The crowd would not be much bigger than fifteen people, max. I was glad to have Robbie with me on this short walk. It had always been easier for me to act and walk normal when I had somebody to talk to. Maybe I didn't make that point very well... I found myself too conscience of my mannerisms when I was walking solo. I remember the first day of high school when I was so concerned about not walking like a sissy that my knees and hips locked up and I couldn't move. I stood frozen, pretending to be looking for something in my pockets. If only I'd known about the miracle of Xanax back then. We ambled slowly toward the 'party', cool as fuck. Just two dudes. 

"Relax, Little Scotty. You need to have fun now -- before the zombie apocalypse really gets out of hand. In fact, let's stop over here for a second..." He gestured to the hedge row next to the road.

"What? Why? Do.." I was afraid he wanted some sex or something.Oh God. Not here. Not now. This whole boyfriend thing was going to be way tougher than I'd ever imagined. All he wanted to do was light a joint and share a few hits with me before we reached the group. 

"Nah...thanks, man. I've never done real well with pot. I tend to freak out a little." I hated it when my head felt like the Bullwinkle balloon at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. 

"You won't freak out with me next to you, Scotty. It'll earn us bonus points among our fellow losers." He was right about that. As plentiful as the magic weed was around this area, it still held status - like a pair of Vanderbilt jeans or the latest Nike's.  Maybe since it was now grown in zombie soil it would be affect me differently. 

"Okay. Two hits...maximum." Robbie smiled and lit the thing with a powder blue lighter. 

Most of those big farm trucks only had AM radios, but Mac's dad's truck had FM and a cassette player. You'd think most farmers would be poor, but a few of them were very well off.  Unfortunately, the station this crowd preferred was T-95 - a station that catered to metal heads. Ugh. I didn't like it too much but had to admit that it really fit our scene. Scuzz Rock. I suppose The Go-Go's wouldn't have pleased anyone but me right then. After a few more inhales of the earthy smoke, I almost physically felt a change in the dynamic between he and I. He really was trying to make it seem like we were just buddies and nothing else. Oddly, pot was leveling him out. The relief combined with the excitement made me almost giddy. Maybe it was never too late to have a happy childhood.

"Whoa! Scott! Puff and pass, man!", one of the dudes hollered at us as we approached. 

"Not mine to offer. This is Robbie's party favor." He nudged my elbow as his way of saying 'thanks'. I had suddenly decided to stick by Robbie and make him feel part of the group. All he had to do was not act annoying.

"Cool."

Robbie hefted himself easily onto the open bed of the truck and then helped me up. Mac and Kurt were there along with their scags plus some freckled, fat chick - who's name I could never remember. Tracy something. I think. I was glad to see them. Debbie Blakely rushed up to me with a plastic cup of warm keg beer in hand. She started growing her enormous boobs in sixth grade. 

"Did you guys hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Our last semester of school has been cancelled! We're all going to get our diplomas automatically! I'm so happy I could cream myself!" Gross. She currently had no boyfriend and was sizing up Robbie and I as possibilities for a drunken fuck later on. Doubtful at best. "This is a celebration, boys! It's warm because Kurt had to hide it in his stepdad's garage for four days." She led us to the keg and fumbled around for cups. Warm beer is still beer and it was surprisingly not bad at all. We moved among the crowd that was getting larger as the sun had set completely. Cigarettes were lit and there was a small argument about who was singing the terrible song blasting.

"It's Great White, you dumb fuck."

"Sounds like Poison to me."

"Because you're a fucking retard..." This was as deep as these conversations tended to get. Robbie shared his fat joint with Tracy who would do anything for free weed - up to and including giving Mac a blow job in front of six other people one night last Summer. That was at least a year ago and I still haven't been able to wash it from my brain.

"Did you all go to the meetin'?," she asked with her hefty lungs full of smoke, "I didn't." Others in the group chimed in with their thoughts about the latest news on our situation. 

"I just don't get why we have to evacuate the town so they can build some national park. We're like fifty miles from the Flint Hills - which are at least sorta pretty." 

"My dad says there's no way he's gonna give up the farm that's been in our family for over a hundred years. Crazy old fucker is gonna sit on the porch with his shot gun."

"I'm gonna go live with my dad in Joplin until I turn 18 and then I take off on my damn own."

"Didn't he molest you when you were ten?"

"Just that one time."

I could tell Robbie was itching to chime in and, weirdly, I didn't care if he did. I even ventured to wrap my arm around his waist. He didn't even tense up. I guess I was trying to communicate that I no longer cared what these people said or thought. I only cared about and supported him.

"Well...you know this place will never be some park, right?" He'd put his long arm around my shoulder. Shit was about to hit the fan. "It's contaminated. We're ALL contaminated by toxic chemicals that will prevent us from ever dying." Silence except for the remaining crickets and frogs still holding out from Summer.

"Did it also turn you guys into fags? You're, like, holding each other," Kurt said all this in a way that betrayed him. He was afraid.

It was my turn to have fun. "Yep. The army won't tell anybody about that just yet. After the second or third zombie showed up, I started liking dick. I found out Robbie had suddenly felt the same thing. It'll happen to all of you eventually too." Robbie's fingers found my left nipple and gave it playful squeeze through my shirt. The crew's responses ranged from "Bullshit" to "Fine by me. It'll be a relief to never worry about getting pregnant." I basked in the disruption to their tiny worlds. Separate little discussions broke out among them and Robbie and I were mostly forgotten. We could make our way back and forth to the keg for cups of warm beer uninterrupted. 

As it fully became night, my man and I sat on the edge of the truck bed and watched the sweet October moon rise boastfully overhead. A need to party and be stupid returned to the group and a now somewhat tainted celebration returned. I felt a decent buzz coming on as we watched the girls dash across the road to the dry dirt field to pee. I can still clearly see the little orange tips of their cigarettes bobbing around like slutty fireflies. I remember thinking I'd use this scene in a novel one day. I'd always wanted to write a book but never would.

I yawned. "Don't start getting sleepy on me now, Scotty. I'm planning a big event for us tonight." 

"What?"

"Just trust me...I'll provide information on a need to know basis." And then we were holding hands again. We got in his car and started driving in a direction that didn't make sense at first, We were going nowhere, down tiny little roads I'd never knew existed. We turned off onto a drive that was only deep ruts made long ago by some heavy tractor in the mud. It seemed too random. even for Robbie's brand of crazy.

"Umm...this isn't even a road, dude. We're in a field for fuck's sake! We're going to get stuck or a flat tire or something."

8.

"You really have to trust me right now. Do you?" I guess I had to. 

"Yeah."

"Good. Because I have to turn the lights off in a second." What?! Tall dried weeds scratched at the windows, making a small panic spread in my chest. Sure enough, he turned off the headlights and we were just following the grooves in the ground in the dark for what seemed like a really long time. Mercifully, he finally pulled the car up on some relatively flat land. "We're here!"

I don't think he brought me all the way out here for sex. If he were anyone else, I'd be certain I was going to be murdered. Weren't dead bodies found in spots like this? Oh wait - there was no such thing as death now. I'd almost forgotten.

"Why are we here, Robbie? What is this place? This isn't even anyplace." He wasn't listening to me now. He'd opened the trunk to gather something. He emerged in the yellow moonlight with a backpack strapped over one shoulder. "What the fuck, man?"

"Camping supplies." Was he kidding? "We've got a long night ahead of us, Buddy Boy. I hope you're ready for some walking."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on." 

"What happened to the trust? Come this way." He followed a barely visible path through the weeds. Shriveled sunflowers, black-eyed susans, and plain old, nameless species of prairie grass. I wish now that I had never agreed to whatever adventure he had in mind. My life (so to speak) would be changed forever that night. I mean, what the hell was I even thinking back then as I followed him on that makeshift trail? There was an abrupt decline in our footing as we suddenly emerged into a hard,dry creek bed. It hadn't rained since May and all the creeks and ponds had  turned to dust. It was a regional emergency according to my dad whose job depended on the farmers having good crops. We watched the local evening and sighed as the forecast remained unchanged for months.  There was something grimly thrilling about it. Robbie produced a heavy duty flashlight from his bag. "Walk." We were on our way. Oh I couldn't wait to hear the explanation for this.

"I want you to appreciate how freaked out I'm feeling right now, Rob."

"OK, OK. I guess you deserve a lot more information. I'm sorry for being so cryptic, but it's a long walk and there's plenty of time to tell you everything. First off - we're in Willow Creek and we're walking to a park on the Southern edge of Wichita. The army didn't bother checking this place out and the nearest blockade was back a mile ago. You gotta be a little more thorough if you're gonna declare Martial Law in the middle of nowhere."

"Wichita?? That's like twelve miles!"

"A little less. This is a shortcut. It'll go faster than you think. I promise."

"We could be shot. And what's in this park we're risking our lives for?"

He sighed as we walked on what looked like the surface of some parched planet. "It's a long story. Let me go back a little:

  I was never really too afraid of the zombies, just curious. I learned as much about them as I could  - up close and in person. I discovered that they weren't technically dead at all. Their bodies are warm. That isn't logical at all. Blood is still flowing in those veins. It seems they still suffer from whatever killed them, but to a lesser degree somehow. They can make eye contact but can't seem to communicate even though it looks for all the world like they want to. I heard one of them distinctly say 'why?'. A lot of them are naked only because they walk by tree branches, rusted junk and other obstacles that eventually tear their clothes to pieces. Hell, some of them even have bloody scratches and cuts - I guess from barbed wire fences. They're living people in  most ways -- except they appear to be in a trance. They're sleepwalking but you really can't call it that.  Are you following all this so far, Scotty?"

I hadn't taken a breath the whole time he was talking. "Yeah. But what about the park we're going to?"

"Okay...I'll go back even farther now:

   Remember how I told you about being turned on by danger? It's something I've analyzed myself about. Possibly some trauma happened to me in one of the foster homes I was in. Some pervy  shit went on during my childhood even though I don't remember much before I was 15 years old. I think I was just bored with the same sex with the same few guys in the Bollard cemetery.     That's when I started sneaking Donna's car for drives to that park in Wichita that was famous for cruising. You know what that means, right? Cruising? It's basically just gay men seeking anonymous sex in public places -- mostly at night. I heard about this park somewhere or read about it. Here's where it get's interesting... the zombie plague has spread faster and further than   anybody knows. It's in Wichita now! I had some wild times in that place whenever Donna let me use her car or when she was blacked-out. But after the military showed up and cut off our access,  I found this dried up creek and walked there for my fix."

Robbie was maybe way too advanced (in a messed-up way) for me. Everything was falling apart and my love fantasies were turning to vapor. "How did you find this shortcut?" I was biding my time before announcing that I was heading back home. 

"One of the medications they make me take for hyperactivity actually makes me more hyper. Can you believe it? I started wandering around late at night which is how I found that spot in the cemetery and how I found this route to Wichita. It takes a little over two hours. Anything else you need to know?"

"Aren't you worried about AIDS? Wichita probably has cases of it by now."

"Oh I KNOW it does. Let me continue:

    Some of the park dudes I had encounters with had the look of sickness you could see even at night. Some had visible blotches on their skin. One guy even admitted he had it before we fucked. But that's not all. The park is behind a hospital where a social worker I know works. She used to keep in contact with me during the worst of my foster teens. Laura is her name but she spells it some weird way. Anyway - she's the one who told me about how AIDS patients were dying and then disappearing from the morgue. Isn't that insane? I even had sex with one or two of  them. Yep -- zombies can get boners. It was so crazy dangerous and I could never get enough. I figured there was never going to be a loving relationship in my future so why not just go all out? Ya know? And now that there's no thing as death anymore...well."

Holy SHIT!! He most likely had the virus and was only telling me NOW?! After what we already did together?? I should have never let my guard down with him. Motherfucker. "What is wrong with you, Robbie?? I mean, beside the obvious. Did you not think of me and my well-being?? I can't believe I was falling in love with you! Dumb-ass! I'm walking back now."

"No. I can't allow that, Scotty. I have a gun with me. Please hear me out first. If you still want to abandon me, like everyone else I've ever known, after I'm done talking, then you can go. You'll never see me again."

"Start talking already."

"Love doesn't just go away like that. I'll always love you and you'll always love me. Deep down inside, you already know that. I know it. I have a plan:

  HIV is scary and destructive, but the chemicals which have caused our dire situation in the region have given us all a second chance to be as decadent as we ever wanted to be. AIDS zombies   look and act than the so-called living versions. We are "preserved" so to speak. It's not the end of the world - it's the beginning of eternal life. Do you want to spend the rest of forever alone and   sad? We have love now...and a way to make it last forever. It sounds crazy but these are crazy times. I want us to be together forever."

"Wow. I think you've lost your fuckin' mind, Robbie. Yeah, you might not ever die - but you'll be a zombie. You'll lose your soul and probably a large part of your brain activity. I mean..." We kept walking in the path made by the flashlight. I saw the little lumpy mounds that I only recently figured out were the things where crawdads lived. I tended to focus on small details when I was stressed. I remember acting up and talking while Miss Olsen was trying to teach us something about long division. She announced that I would miss recess that afternoon because I was headed for the principal's office for a paddling. I was terrified and embarrassed, but found that I could keep from crying by looking at a crack in the wall that looked like a lightning bolt. I forced myself to stare at it and wonder how flaws like that decided to shape themselves. 

"But listen to me, Scott. We're different. It won't be the same. Don't ask me how, but I know that we'll hold onto the essentials. Our love can't die. It just CAN'T." He was nuts, but I was walking ahead, still following the path he'd found for us. Looking back now, I guess I'd just figured my fate had already been sealed. It's a fool's folly to fight the inevitable. 

"Let's walk a little faster."

"That's the spirit, Babe." He opened up his bag and produced a medium-sized bottle of gin. "This will make the trip go much quicker." Right as he said that, a streak of silent lightning crossed the Northern sky. Uh oh.

9.

He handed me the opened bottle. "I think we're in for a thunderstorm, Robbie."

"Nah. That's just heat lightning. You usually don't see it this time of year. We might possibly get a little shower because the upper atmosphere is unstable, but nothing severe. It might even be refreshing. How's the gin? It's top shelf shit." A low 'moo'... a cow or a steer or something was nearby. 

"We're in a pasture. I've never had gin before, but it's not so bad. It's made from olives, right?" His relief that I was still walking next to him was palpable. 

"No. Close. Juniper berries. I like it because it's a wine-like buzz from a hard liquor. It's a mellow kick in the gut."

"We're not going to get attacked by some angry bull are we?" 

"No. I've never even seen a bull on this walk. There's a slaughter house not far from here and I think they're laying low, fearful of the smell of blood and agony in the air."

"That must be the part of Wichita that smells like dog food."

"OK. Up ahead of us is where a concrete tunnel is built under a gravel road. It's small, but nothing to be afraid of. It's just weird. Every creek you drive over has one of these - built by the county. Let's talk. Ask me anything. We'll trade questions and answers."

"Hmmm. Were you ever molested as a kid? In one of those foster homes?" I think I knew the answer.

"Whoa. You just jumped right into it, didn't you? The answer is 'probably'. I don't know when or by who, but I've been sexual for a long time... even before I grew pubes.  One of the therapists I've seen is positive that I was messed with. Who knows? Why was that your first question, Scotty?"

"Your sex life seems a weirdly intense...or intensely weird...or both. I've heard that many abused children grow up to be abusers themselves. I'm not insinuating that you've abused anyone except maybe yourself."

"I get what you're saying. I've talked to so many case workers, therapists and other assorted professionals and they can only conclude that I'm just plain nuts."

"OK. My nonprofessional opinion is that, while you are weird, you've got a good heart and are capable of greatness. But people can't see that because of your day-to-day behavior."

"That's probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. My turn now. Why do you hate yourself? Wait -we're just around the bend from one of those tunnels I told you about. It's a big one too...right under I-35. Hear the cars?" I did. This was a heavily traveled highway that was popular with commuters and long haul truckers. When the bridge/tunnel was in sight, it looked dark, forbidden and not not least bit as magical as Robbie had insinuated. I stopped. My knees locked up and I felt frozen with fear. What if there were hobos sleeping in there? And they had knives? And what if...

Just then there was a deafening noise that started with squeaking tires and ended with a huge BANG followed by a slow,hissing steam that I can still vividly hear to this day.  A bad accident had happened almost right over our heads. 

"FUCK! That sounded pretty major."

We stood still and watched the sky, waiting. "Yeah. It happens on this particular stretch of road often. I think most of those truckers are half-sleeping or on speed or riled up by libertarian talk shows on the radio. It could also be a drunk driver. Want to climb up there for a look?"

"Oh hell no! What if there's blood or a severed head or something? I couldn't handle that."

"Wow. For a strapping young man living in Zombie Town USA, you sure are timid." There was a smell of scorched engine fluids and diesel fuel . Just as I began to fear an explosion, the sound of multiple sirens could be heard in the distance. Not much they could probably do now. But I guess somebody had to do something. And then crazy red and blue lights were flashing and casting insane, dancing shadows across our faces and on the bone dry weeds around us.  Doors slammed, urgent shouting ensued and police radios squawking was in the background. I felt the need to do something, but what help would two dumb 18 teenagers be to them? It feels so helpless to feel helpless. We silently agreed to return to the cracked path and continue our trek.

"Is it just my imagination or are the batteries in your flashlight dying?"

"Yeah. This thing eats D cells like a hungry sow. I've got more in the bag. I'll wait to put put new ones in as long as I can because it's a long journey and I want to get you back home before the sun comes up. Would your folks be upset if they found you gone in the morning?"

"No. I don't think so. Everything's so crazy at home right now and they know I went to a party." The tunnel reminded me of a giant crypt. It was dark as death in there. There was an inch crust of silt under our feet. I'd assumed there would be graffiti spray-painted on the walls, but there were only some small snail shells stuck to the wall, glued by the hardened muck they'd excreted in rainier, happier times. I flicked one and it was as delicate and as a weightless seed pod. "Wow. This is eerie as hell, Robbie."

"You think so? I like it....it's like our hick state's little version of the catacombs." Ugh. I'd hated the idea of those things since we first learned about them in school. Of course Robbie would dig it. Freak.

"You didn't happen bring any Coke or bottles of water did you? I'm so thirsty."

"Yeah. Let's stop for a bit to re-hydrate and rest a minute. Want a blanket to sit on?"

"Nah. Mom taught me how to do my own laundry and wants me to practice before I leave for college. I guess that's all on hold now." We sat down and put our backs up against the concrete wall. He took a swig from the gin bottle and passed it to me. I didn't think liquor was all that hydrating, but took a few healthy sips anyway. I'd begun to like the taste of it.

"So you're not going to college?"

"No idea. I guess it depends on where we end up after the relocation. Maybe I'll use this creek again to just escape and find a new life somewhere else. Malaysia or anywhere far away. Would you come with me?" He scooted over and the whole right side of his body was against my left side. He put an arm around me and our heads touched.

"Of course. I can access people and resources in several different cities -- none in Malaysia though. There's a pay phone right outside the park that I'll use to call this lawyer in Kansas City I know. He'll set us up and give us a place to stay as long as we want."

"I've never been there. All I know about that place is just what I've seen on the news when they caught that gay serial killer. ..Bob Something."

"Yeah.I saw that too. He was a fucking butcher, man. There are degrees of 'crazy', ya know? I like to think I'm on the sunnier side of mental illness."

"A guy who has anonymous sex with zombies and HIV positive guys...yeah. You're a regular Daffy Duck." I was and wasn't kidding. He just laughed. This whole scene was surreal. 

10.

"This is sort of romantic, don't you think?" His voice had softened but still echoed in the concrete tunnel. It was also nice to be taking a break. We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until we both became aware of how deeply our breathing had become. He put an arm around my shoulders leaned a little  and touched his lips to my ear. You never know what weird, wonderful turns your life can take. I'd sometimes considered suicide in the my feverish teen years and it chilled me to think all I would have missed. They should tell that to all depressed youth. Put it on billboards or something. It's as good as that "It Gets Better" campaign that started back when I was already in my 30's. 

"Remember what we talked about this afternoon? In my room? Have you thought more about it?" After we'd had a long, sweaty sixty nine-ing session in his bed, we both just lied on top of his tangled sheets and discussed sex stuff. He brought up the subject of anal intercourse and told me about how good it could be. He answered most of the technical questions I could think of. I guess I liked the idea of it, but told him I needed time.

"Yeah. At first I thought I'd really only ever like the oral stuff. I hadn't considered what you liked. It was selfish to not consider your preferences. I want to do it for you, for us."

I hadn't meant right this minute but he started kissing me and fumbling for my zipper. I needed a minute or two to mentally prepare myself. "Wait. Wait. Let's have a drink first. Let me relax a little." He looked at me with a grin I could barely make out in the dimness. 

"Okay, you shy little thing. Just one."

He fished the bottle back out of his book bag and handed it to me. He was still rummaging around as I helped myself to some generous sips of gin. I remembered the only black girl in our class telling me that gin kept guys from losing their erections. She turned bad around the same time I had and started joining us behind the vo-tech building to smoke cigarettes. 'It make a man hard', she said. I took as many long gulps as I could while he was busy fiddling around with the flashlight. He's somehow set it to shine a low amber light over the immediate area above our heads. Why a flashlight would ever have such an option I'd never know. He brought the bag over and fluffed it up against the wall. "Here. You can use this as a pillow." OK. I guess this happening. Now. Right now. 

"Here? In the dirt? Why don't we wait until we can do it in a bed?" 

"I can't wait that long, Scotty. What's wrong with a little dirt? You can wash your clothes and take a shower later. Look - I brought some lube that desensitizes your ass a little. I'm sorry your first time has to be with somebody so big, but I'm sill glad it's with me. Just lie back and try to relax. You only get one first time." He chuckled lightly. "Yeah...maybe you should take one more shot." We each had one even though the earlier sips had already given me that underwater feeling. 

  I am editing this story now to insert the fact that neither of us ever uttered the word "condom".

I had to be drunk because being naked in some filthy underpass didn't seem all that out of the ordinary. Normally my  head would be full of panic and my heart would be racing. I just wanted this. Robbie climbed on top of me after applying that tingling cream to my completely exposed anus. I guess there was no real point in seduction or foreplay, considering where we were and how much we had already done with each other.

To say it hurt as he worked the tip of his fat boner inside of my hole would be a vast understatement.  I mean, DAMN! I thought there was no way guys did this for fun! I instinctively tried to squirm out from beneath him. But he had complete control now. His hand went over my mouth and he used his powerful torso and long legs to hold me in place like a butterfly pinned to cardboard.

"Shhh, Baby...this is the painful part. It gets so much better in a few minutes." His gentle voice and his ungentle dominance had made me even more helpless. I endured the initial pain and, sure enough, it did start to feel good in a way nothing else had ever felt good to me before. I thought he was already all the way in but he kept going in deeper, filling me more and more. I reached around and let my fingers brush the skin on his bare ass which was pumping at a furious pace. He must have been so relieved that I was no longer hurting that he felt the go ahead to just really go at it with gusto and it was so glorious. I remember thinking 'Please don't let this ever end'. 

"SHIT! I...I came. I can usually last longer if I really try." He stayed on top of me as his softening dick slowly stopped pulsing. The thoughts of what he'd just planted inside of me skimmed harmlessly off the surface of my brain. It was kind of late to worry anyway. I must have came at some point because our stomachs were both slick with my semen.

I guess it would have been nice to just lie in that position with him for the rest of the night but we both had a mission to complete. We silently got dressed and he set the flashlight back to its normal function. I took a few seconds to grieve the fact that the sex had ended and I was no longer some virgin kid. I had no idea how to be an actual 'man'. That was going to be another long journey that so many of us are still on.

As we emerged from the tunnel on the other side of the interstate I meditated on the term "lived in". People used it to describe a house that's comfortable but messy and structurally messed up a little. It could also be used to describe what my ass felt like at that moment. I was happily wounded as I limped slightly. Robbie put the bottle back in his book bag and reached over to hold my hand which was just the most perfect gesture right then.

11.

"You never got around to answering my question."

"Huh?"

"Why do you hate yourself?"

"I don't. Why would you assume that?"

"I've watched you for years, Scotty. You've got so much going for you. You're cute, kind and have a certain shine that can be seen by everyone around you. You're also obviously smart, but never speak in class. You're isolated and always keep your head down. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen you smile and then you go and befriend only the lowest forms of life in Bollard."

"Like you?" 

"I'm different. Mental illness pushed me to the fringes of society while you were born to be at the very top."

"Hardly. I guess I have my own mental issues. Possibly the self-loathing started when I realized I was different than other boys. I knew I talked and acted wrong so I tried to change. I even prayed to Jesus that I could be normal. I stopped talking or socializing in case I forgot to not be myself. My parents pretty much ignored me once I was old enough for school. I was no longer their problem."

"I get it. I'm fairly certain your story is not all that unique among gay kids. You aren't even the only closeted young man in our school." I almost wanted to ask who the others were but it wasn't my business...and I knew he'd tell me just that. Was he going to even comment about what we'd just done in the underpass? Did I want him to? 

"What are your mental issues, Rob?"

"I might have time to tell you all of them if we were walking to Canada. Ba-dum-dump ssshhh. But seriously folks. I was diagnosed with ADD very early on and also depression. Over the years, various doctors have suggested everything from schizophrenia to autism. But you know what's funny?". I could hear some faint noises of the city. "Right here, being with you -- I feel totally normal. It's unsettling. How do people even go about doing that?" He gave my hand an extra squeeze. "My turn. Tell me something that gives you joy. No - tell me five things that give you joy." Before I could open my mouth, he chuckled. "Besides me, that is."

"Fossils. Lilacs. Old library books. Um... Hawks. Meteor showers."

"Lilacs?"

"Yeah. When I was three or four years old, I wandered away from the backyard. I think I heard church bells. I eventually ended up on some street I didn't recognize and I was completely lost. I cried because I thought I'd be in trouble and get a spanking. I walked by this little house that was surrounded by six huge lilac bushes. I can still remember how good they smelled and how pretty the blossoms looked. Corny. I know. But I stopped crying and just walked up to the front door and knocked. Some old widow lived there and she'd been baking or something because there was a small blotch of flour on her cheek. She seemed happy to have a visitor and let me right in. I told her my name and said I wanted to go home. She knew where my parents lived and drove me back. So ever since then I've associated lilacs with kindness."

"So cool. One day we'll live in a house surrounded by lilacs. One day we'll ... " He paused and let go of my hand. A zombie was right up ahead, walking our way. 

"Wow! This is my first time actually seeing one!"

"Don't be afraid. Remember - they're harmless and they aren't actually dead. Shit. He must have fallen down here. He'll just keep walking until he gets all the way to Mound View." It's amazing how calm and safe I felt. I was mostly just curious. 

"He's not wearing a hospital gown...maybe he was somebody who just up and died somewhere near."

"Look at the blood stain on the right side of his shirt. Gun shot. Come on...let's get a closer look."

"No. Let's don't."

"Come on, Scotty. They're lonely and seem to like having some company now and then." I guess he was my guide on this bizzarro tour, so I followed as he took me closer. The guy looked so alive in every way except for a certain dazed expression in his half-closed eyes. 

"He looks a lot like that substitute Spanish teacher we had a few times. Only much skinnier." 

"OK. Now look as I shine the light in his face. You can see that his pupils will adjust to the glare just like ours would." That's exactly what happened. And then Robbie handed me the flashlight. I aimed it away from his face because that seemed rude. 

"Hello. What is your name?" I was talking to an actual zombie (if that's even what they were). How many people could say they ever did that? 

The being opened his mouth. "Mmma...yes."

Robbie took over. "You don't have to shout, Scott. They seem to hear just fine. Let me try. "What's your name, buddy? Mario? Miguel? Marco? Michael? Matthew?" 

"Mmaatto....o...Help me." Clear as a bell. I was stunned. I suddenly felt terrible about what was happening, what might happen. I was falling in love with Robbie but I knew he was going to do some weird thing with this person/zombie/being.

"Let's just let him be and go."

"Hold the flashlight again. I want to see his wound."

Jesus Fucking Christ! I knew how things were going to go, but I didn't protest. Why oh why didn't I protest? I aimed  the light on the poor guy's chest and held my breath while Robbie took off the shirt. The zombie deemed cooperative, even raising his arms to make it easier. Oh God. But the wound wasn't as gory as I expected - just a hole with one last little drizzle of blood dripping from it. "OK. Can we go now? This seems disrespectful."

"Check it out. He's got tracks on his arm. Used needles for heroin or speed or something, that's for sure. I wonder if his dealer shot him." I hate to admit it, but I was fascinated. "Let's look for the exit wound." There wasn't one. But we did see were a few of those purple blotches that I'd already learned were an indication of AIDS. Robbie didn't say anything for a full minute which was a major feat for him. He just studied the lesions. Oh God. Was that what I had to look forward to in a few years? Months? Weeks? Only God knows what bizarre strain of the virus Robbie had passed along to me.

"He doesn't seem dead at all."

"Or high...or withdrawing from his addiction. I really think that this so called version of death is more of a rebirth now. It cures what ails ya'.  But if you have any doubts at all, let me show you something. They're not dead at all." I knew this was coming. He was going to do something sexual with the poor guy. How did I get myself here? In this particular bizarre moment? I could be at home right now, re-reading an old Ray Bradbury book.

12.

"I'm gonna need you to hold the light real steady and aim in where I tell you to. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, Rob."

The first thing he did was brush his hand across our new friend's chest. If one can swallow a scream, that's what I tried to do. He then concentrated on 'Matto's right nipple. It instantly got hard and pointy. "Yeah. He likes that. He likes us. Let's welcome him back to his second life." Robbie went to work on the guy's zipper."Untie his shoes and help me get his jeans off." I knelt down and unlaced his beat-up Nike high tops. It looked like he wore size 10's - same as me. But I couldn't get them off his feet while he was standing. 

"Help me lay him down on his back. Gently." We eased him horizontal on the dry creek bed, and he seemed okay with that. "Get his shoes off." I did. And the stink of his socked feet was not the smell of death...it was a locker room odor that seemed very 'alive'. His feet were damp. How exactly were these guys even considered 'dead'? It's simple - they were alive. Of course I looked at his dick. It was a pretty decent size and a shade or two darker than the rest of his exposed flesh. It looked swollen with semi-excitement. Robbie stroked it gently and it got thicker and harder right before my disbelieving eyes. Swear to God - it was straight up pornographic but also fascinating (the way most good pornography is). I felt myself getting an erection in spite of everything. As my new boyfriend - the man who took my virginity - bent down and took Matto's dick in his mouth. He was making small groans of pleasure. I didn't want to watch but how could I not, ya know? The moans kept getting faster and louder until the crickets around us grew silent. Robbie lifted his head and looked at me. "You're turn." Was he kidding? I'd had so many firsts already in one day. "Come on, Scotty. He really loves it."

"I don't know, Robbie."

"Don't forget - I have a gun. Blow him..or else!" 

"Seriously? You'd kill me for not sucking off a zombie? Well, go ahead." The zombie seemed unhappy that the fellating had stopped. He whined the way a kid does when he's cranky. 

"OK. I'm not going to kill you any more than I already have, but I really need you to do this. Maybe it'll give you something to write a book about someday." I hadn't ever shared my desire to write a novel with him. Robbie just always knows things. He'd be that way the whole time I knew him. I decided to do it. A part of me wanted to do it anyway but a sense of humanity had made me have to hesitate.

"I'll do it." Starting was the hardest part . The man's penis was twitching with a need to release. He even lifted a hand to the side of my face as if to urge me downward. And then...and then I took a zombie penis in my mouth. It felt every bit as warm as Robbie's dick had. Was that really only this morning? It seemed like years ago. The taste let me know he probably hadn't showered in a few days but that's not saying I didn't like it. Matto's hips were moving upward as if I wasn't taking him deeply enough. I'd eventually come to always love sucking an impatient man's dick. The sounds he made told me he was close to orgasm. 

"OK. Stop. He's gonna shoot." Wasn't that what he wanted?? "I want you to take off your pants and sit on his dick."

"No. I just can't."

"It's either that or you have to fuck his ass."

"No." I figured he'd tell me about the gun again. Instead, Robbie punched me in the stomach. I fell to the ground, trying desperately to get air into my lungs. Then he fell on top of me and wrestled me flat on my stomach (another kinky fetish of mine was born). I was in pain and gasping for air as he laid me out flat on my stomach and undressed me from the waist down. "Keep your head down, Scotty! It'll be easier for you if you get on your knees and lift your ass in the air." I just couldn't.  I was frozen like a jammed film reel and the projector bulb was burning me to a melted nothing. I'm not trying to sound dramatic but I think my brain, along with my motor skills, had gone bye-bye. 

"OK. Well, maybe it won't be so bad since I already opened you up a few minutes ago. Looks like you're still bleeding a little. Shit. Get ready."

So I guess this wasn't love at all. I was just part of Robbie's twisted games. I was right and wrong about that, but I remember at the time,  wishing he'd actually brought along this hypothetical gun he claimed he had and blow my head off.  Nah -- I think my brain was pretty much gone no matter what happened next.

I was waiting for a coma or shock or anything to get me out of here. I know I was jealous of those people who really did lose their minds. My brain had been my problem for 18 years -- maybe it was time to end my relationship with it once and for all. But insanity remained woefully out of my grasp. I was still fully aware that the guy I thought might love me was going to watch as a zombie with AIDS fucked me. How many people on Earth go through a whole lifetime without anything this messed up happening to them? 

"It's OK. Oh, look --  he's still nice and hard again. The second he saw your bare ass, our new friend got really fucking excited! Here you go, Matto...let me ease you on top of little Scotty here. His hole is extra sweet." 

And then, with a painful 'whump', the weight of this stranger was fully on top of me. He smelled strongly of sweat and, weirdly, the ocean. I never did figure out where that particular came from. He weighed less than Robbie did but the cracked earth beneath me was much harsher on my bones than the dust under the highway. What could I do? Complain?? The zombie dick entered me with no ease or thought of me. His narrow hips were on auto-pilot. Of course it hurt, but not as keenly as Rob's dick had. His breath was uniquely human -- unbrushed teeth and something charred. I can still smell it some thirty years later. Matto's thrusts were not artful at all. He was just stabbing away down there. I was going to leave this next part out of the story --  but, what the hell -- I was extremely aroused. I could feel a climax knocking at my dick's door. It felt GOOD! The unrealness, the inner throbbing and the zombie's rough little hands holding the sides of my face....I came two seconds before he did.  

Two men had ejaculated inside of me as of today. October 23, 1990. Which one did I regret more? Both? Neither? 

So there I was...face down in a dry creek bed somewhere in Sedgewick County with noxious sperm in my guts and a zombie softly sighing on my back. I'll never forget the way he was petting my hair, petting me like a dog. I never imagined how I'd ever make peace with this -- but I did, almost instantly. I'd enjoyed it despite myself. Maybe I'd already lost my mind and didn't know it. Whatever. I felt a kind of numb joy that didn't have a name. The sensation of Matto's softening dick leaving me was almost sad. He was probably really great in the sack back before his life started taking wrong turns. 

I recovered enough to talk. "Get him off of me. He's done." I wished my voice had sounded angrier -- but I had no fight left. Robbie helped him stand again and as I then pulled on my pants. When I turned around, Matto's dick was tucked safely back in his jeans but Robbie was now exposed. I'm guessing he'd jacked off while watching the scene. His dick was constantly ready to shoot the entire time I knew him. (if you ever find a man like that don't let him go)

I think Matto wanted to follow us but Robbie turned him the other way and guided him back toward where we had come from. That didn't work so Robbie turned the flashlight off and we started jogging faster. My hand was in his and I was fine with that even though I know I should have been angry with him. The zombie was faster than you'd think. All you learned from movies and TV is so hilariously wrong. 

12.

"Are you mad at me, Scotty?" 

I thought about not saying anything, but I needed to talk. "Yes. I am. Don't ever hit me again. Don't ever force me to do something I'm not ready for."

"I promise, cross my heart....I would add 'and hope to die', but there's no such thing as death for either of us. I'm so sorry for punching you. I just needed for you to experience that. I have reasons." What reasons? I supposed he'd tell me eventually and he did a few months later.

"You owe me, Rob. Agreed?"

"Absolutely, Scotty." 

We were getting closer to the city. I could see that sickish orange glow that all cities have now. "Well...I want to go home. I don't want to cruise the park. I need my home, my bed, my night light, a book and a long rest."

"Oh. OK. Are you absolutely sure? It's fun."

"You owe me, Rob."

"Yes, yes. OK. Let's get you home.I'm sorry. I love you."

"If you really mean that then this was the last time either one of us will have sex with other people. It's just you and I for as long as we're together." I could feel my spine getting straighter and sturdier with each word I spoke.

"Seriously? I mean...seriously?"

"Yes. Give me your keys. We can call it quits right now. You can go to the park and I'll drive myself home. I'm giving you your 'get out jail free' card right now, Robbie."

"So you love me?"

"Not right this minute maybe. But,yes. I am in love with you." How many of us can say that the first time we told a boyfriend that we loved them and really meant it? I did... or at least as much as any 18 year old could know what love was. I'm still not quite sure.

"I don't think anyone has ever loved me before. I mean, maybe my birth mother did at one point, when I was a baby -- but I don't ever remember feeling loved."

"So, do you love me?"

"YES! Which is why I'm officially ending my play time...my experiments. From now on, you are my one and only. Monogamy is worth a try." He then took my hand and we walked back toward Bollard. Home. 

My head was quickly clearing up by that point. "Just tell me...what we did, what I did wasn't necrophilia, was it?"

"You mean you still think of them as 'dead'?? They are living human beings who were dead for a few minutes, but not anymore. Death is just a stage for us now. An incredibly brief stage at that."

"Fine. But I will always have a doubt somewhere in my brain."

"That's your right. You will be the moral compass for both of us."

"Deal. As long as you're always our designated fuck-up."

13.

And we made it back to his car which looked beautifully ordinary after all the madness I'd experienced in the past few hours. I nearly cried. I asked him not to play that music on the drive home. I rolled down the window and listened to the engine and the wind. Robbie would be the first person in my life who always knew when I needed an extended period of not talking. I had talked enough for one day. 

We had a chaste little kiss when he dropped me off a few doors away from my house. The porch party had either ended or moved somewhere else. All the lights in the living room were on. A few of my dad's favorite vinyl records (mid-70's crap) were laying here and there without their sleeves. He must have been seriously out of it because that man treasured his album collection. I thought I could smell puke coming from somewhere but didn't feel like looking for it. Mom would be mad for at least a week about this. Not my problem. They're only offspring was gone until 3 in the morning and they hadn't even noticed. I loved the non-care once I became a teenager, but would be angry about it later in life. I've forgiven them at this point. They shouldn't have ever had children, but what's done is done.

Let me say that again: WHAT'S DONE IS DONE. Never forget that.

So what happened next? For a few months, it was as close to normal as it could have been. My mother really liked the army's make-shift grocery store that was set up just inside the quarantine. My dad seemed pretty happy about the big checks we were getting from the government. "Owning property in this shit town was the best investment I ever made," he'd said a few too many times. The trash was picked up. The heavily censored newspaper resumed publishing, but the grain elevators never reopened. Robbie's guardian stopped drinking only because she was diagnosed with heart failure and was so weak she couldn't even make fresh ice. Donna turned out to be a really nice person once she was sober. Robbie and I were the ones who made sure she took her multiple medications. The three of us would be together almost every day since I was practically living there by that time. She had a heart attack and was rushed to the army's new surgical unit. She died right there on the operating table. We'd never find out if she returned to life because the military took care of everything in a 'dignified and respectful manner'.  She'd left the house and a huge chunk of money to Robbie. "She did this way back when she was all drunk and horrible!" he'd always say with amazement. I guess I wasn't the first person to love him after all. 

Late in the Winter of 1991, the relocation process began. I had to tell my parents that Robbie and I were lovers and would be moving away together. We were a couple just as they were. It's like I'd just told them I was reading a new library book. They just didn't care. There were too many other things to think about. The military individually debriefed us for about an hour over the course of three weeks. Even kids as young as four were told things like where we'd be moving to from a pre-approved list. I remember telling them that Robert  Tyler and I  were a long-term couple and would only agree to move away as a couple. The military guys didn't even blink at the gay thing nor did they deny our request. We picked a college town because we figured it would be more progressive and 'fun'. Families could move together, but not extended family members like grandparents or adult children. No unrelated residents could live within a hundred miles of each other because the government wanted to discourage 'fraternization'. I guess it's like back in the 1800's when you'd see friends and loved ones get in a covered wagon, head out West and that was it. You never saw them again. It was like a death in that way. 

We were told we'd be moving into new subsidized housing and then monitored very closely for the foreseeable future. Our phone calls, mail and travel would be closely watched. Our computer usage would be severely limited. At the time, I wondered why they'd be interested in a machine that you only used to write book reports and play games on. We all had to have a medical checkup every year from the physician of their choice. For how long? Indefinitely. And then we were forced to sign a promise that we'd never discuss the events of the last year. Penalties for not complying included fines, imprisonment or 'worse'. I just wanted to start a new life with Robbie somewhere far away from hay bales and tractors. The money they gave us in exchange was so worth keeping a secret for. Where did the government get all this money? There was a recession at the time. I signed the agreement.

"Just think - someday you can visit this place when it'll be the biggest national park in the Midwest!" The grandpa-looking guy seemed to be very good at lying to people's faces. I almost smirked, but fought the urge. Robbie didn't. He was a regular asshole to the guy who debriefed him. He told me later that he asked about the zombies, JFK's real killer and Area 51. I wish I could have been there for that. We were among the last people to leave because he was detained for two weeks. I don't know what they did to him during that time and he'd never tell me. For years he just wouldn't speak of it, but it had incubated an anger in him that would last the whole time I knew him. I stopped asking. 

We had a happy couple of years once we moved to the new town. We spent our days leisurely and were never apart. Clinton was president and everything just seemed more hopeful. Can you believe how lucky we felt that he'd given us 'don't ask don't tell'?  His sexual appetite was exhausting but I kept up with it because I didn't want him finding release elsewhere else. We each got involved with community and university groups. That's where it all went sideways. I was involved with astronomy, geology and wildlife causes but Robbie went his natural trouble-making route. He joined up with political groups and decided he was now a 'queer activist'. He went to every march, protest and rally he could. I tried to remind him we were still under surveillance at all times. If we wanted to keep this nice house and our peaceful lives, he needed to be cool, be discrete.

"I can't believe how little you care about reclaiming our privacy and rights as citizens!"

"I can't believe how little you care about ME! It sucks, baby. But I'd rather have you here with me than watch you get dragged away in some black van at midnight. This house is most likely bugged but we've sure given them a lot to listen to." (he was very into dirty talk during sex) That made him smile a little, but he never let go of the anger and that need for justice. He went to the campus library daily and researched Abbie Hoffman and Angela Davis which I knew would be tracked through the school's computers. He was so goddamn determined to change the world, to shake things up.  I worried of course, but gave up trying to talk sense into him. It just made him mad and we'd argue. I hoped for the best and let him do his own thing. And then... And then he disappeared.

It was a Friday night and we'd gone to see The B-52's in concert. They were one of the few bands we both liked. We were dancing and yelling and having a great time when I suddenly noticed he wasn't next to me. I thought we'd just lost each other in the crowd. But I never saw him again. He had the keys and so I got a ride from some severe goth chick with a lip piercing. I didn't say much as she talked non-stop about how she was trying to start a lesbian pro-vandalism art movement. Interesting. She was premed but had found it so easy and effortless that she had time to be creative and outrageous. Her name was 'Vee' and we're friends to this day. She became a pediatric surgeon - if you can believe that shit. I've almost wished I'd told her my story many times. She would have made something great out of it. I never even told her about Robbie because I knew he was gone...for good.

I never really let myself grieve for many years. I kept my head down and adjusted to living alone with my secrets. I forgot to mention that it was soon after our first medical appointment with a doctor that we found out we had a virus. It was something they'd never seen before...similar to HIV but not quite. The doctor was a shill for the government of course. He didn't bother asking me about my sexual history (not that I would have told him). He only told me that there would be a treatment very soon. He told Robbie the same thing, the same rehearsed bullshit. If they'd never seen it before, how could there be a cure on the way? I had to stop drinking, smoking and any and all drug use. He wasted his breath. Vee and I would take long walks around the campus park while smoking blunt after blunt after blunt. She admitted that she had been seeing a shrink for ten years. She'd had shock treatment many times. I wondered if I should try that. Or a lobotomy. Take my earlier life away from my memory. But Vee patiently explained that 'E.C.T' wasn't like that at all. To this day Vee is a confirmed stoner but still the smartest, most coherent person I'd ever know. 

This past June, I developed heart problems. I had chest pains and shortness of breath. And a few weeks ago, I developed a scaly rash on my hands and feet. My appointed doctor told me that it was an anomaly and had nothing to do with the mystery virus I carried. He said I would live a long life. I doubt anything he says, but I guess I'll find out eventually. I know I can never die.

END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[tboyer]

I really like this story, it kept me on the edge of my seat. I do think you have talent  

[evilqueerpig]

Welcome back, Toon.  Both you and your stories have been greatly missed.  Hope you're fully recovered.

 

[cubster1984]

Great story. Wish there was more sex hehe. Hope Ur doing well mr

[bjbottom]

Not sure what to expect from this story, but it was fantastic just like all your other stories!    Glad you are back.   Good luck with your upcoming surgery my friend.   I will keep you in my thoughts.

[Toon]

On 9/3/2018 at 9:22 PM, bjbottom said:

Not sure what to expect from this story, but it was fantastic just like all your other stories!    Glad you are back.   Good luck with your upcoming surgery my friend.   I will keep you in my thoughts.

Thanks, man. And thanks to everybody who said such nice things. My surgery has been postponed because my surgeon decided I wasn't mentally ready for it. I guess I made one too many morbid comments yo nurses and aides about dying. It kills me the way medical professionals say "Try to be positive!", not knowing what that wording implies in our community. So I have to go to go get some mental health counseling before going under the knife. Thanks again.

[weirdfetish]

omggg can u pls add fillers like what happened to Robbie T_T ive been having cliffhanger for the past hours now, usually cliffhangers for me lasts about weeks

[Raimancer]

I loved the story. I'm basically here to read and have a good time.

It kinda made me hate Robbie and sad for Scott, I hoped we got to know what really happened to him.

I Hope you're doing well now