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Chapter
20
Welcome
to Hard Times It was the third full day I was at
Walt's that Todd came by with Fred. Ty
brought them into the living room where we were listening to The Supremes.
There was something very stimulating about the music. My feet were curled up under me on the
couch. I was still wearing Ty's hiked up
sweat pants. Fred and I hugged and he kissed me passionately. I didn't feel passionate toward him. I stood back and looked at him. He seemed happy and calm. Todd had gotten him into a foster
home. It was two gay guys that had taken
other boys for him. They would
understand his problem and offer him some comfort at a time he needed to figure
out what his life was about. Todd asked
me if I was ready. I just shrugged and
went back and sat on the couch. Fred
stood next to me and held my hand. Ty
stood in the doorway and watched us as Todd continued to explain what would
happen to Fred. "You know they are looking for
you?" Todd said, looking at my hand in Fred's. "Yeah. I know." "I'd turn you in myself if I
didn't know through a confidence where you were. You should be home, Billie Joe. You should be home with your people. Going to
school." "I can't right
now. You send me home and I'll just run." "I know that. Why do you think you're still here. When you want to go home, when you are ready,
Ty will contact me. Don't wait too
long. Don't wait until it is too
late." "Walt. You take care of yourself. No one would bust you for keeping these boys,
but you know it isn't legal." "I
know, Todd. I know. These boys have to make their own
decisions. I make Billie Joe leave, I
lose Ty. I think I'll go along with the
boys, Todd. If I can keep them off the
streets, well, you know where they are." "Yeah! Unfortunately I do. It's my ass if any one else knows I
know. My ass big time. I don't know why
I let you kids work me this way. Don't
know why I don't just bust all of you.
Just don't wait too long, Billie Joe.
Don't let too long be too late." "I won't. I'm thinking on
it." Fred and I hugged as they left.
I hoped he would be happy. He was
a nice kid. Funny. He was a lot older
than I was and I no longer thought I was a kid, but I saw Fred as a kid. Life's strange. We listened to music and Ty fixed us
soup and salad for dinner. Walt even ate
all of his salad. The soup was onion and
we had garlic bread. It was great. I'd eaten better in the past few days than in
months. I started to feel alive
again. I still spent much of my time in
the shower. I still couldn't get myself
clean enough. It was like after you have
an operation and you aren't really completely awake, and you linger there in
that world of bright light and movement, but you aren't really connected to
it. That's how I felt. I was there, but I really wasn't there. It was just nice not to be looking over my
shoulder and begging for food. It was the night Fred came that Ty
asked me about the future. "You going home?" "I don't know what I'm going to
do." I looked up at Ty from under
my eyebrows. "What are you going to
do?" "Stay here. With Walt.
He needs me. I like Walt. He always treated me good. He takes care of me. I take care of him." "Can't I stay with you?" "The guy's got AIDS, Billie
Joe. He'll be dead in a few months. I'll be back on the street. Besides, his check just about pays the bills. You are another mouth to feed. I don't know how long we'll last." "I can make money." "Fuck you, Billie Joe! Not while I'm around you can't. I'll bust your ass I ever catch you at it
again." "What
do I do? I might have it, Ty." "Don't say that Billie Joe. Don't ever tell me that." "I did stuff Ty. I did a lot of stuff." "Shut up, Billie Joe. I don't want to know that. You go some place else to die, Billie
Joe. I won't watch that. I won't watch anyone else die." "We're all, dying, remember? You told me we're all dying." "I didn't say 'we' meaning
you. I said 'we' meaning the kids. We were all dying. You were fucking okay. You could live. You didn't have to be like us. You could go home." "I didn't, and I am one of you,
and I might have it." "Go
home. Like Todd said, go home. Finish school. You can go home. If you get sick, deal with it. Don't ever tell me. Don't ever tell me I failed. I want to think I saved one person from the
street. That's all I wanted with you. I just wanted to keep you from getting
it. Don't ever tell me, Billie Joe. I don't want to know you got it." We went to sleep but nothing was
resolved. I knew I could go home. I didn't know why I should. I knew what was going to happen. It would be even worse now than it was
before. They'd watch me like a
hawk. Not that I deserved any less, but
I didn't want to face it. I decided I
would wait as long as possible. If I was
dying, I'd never go home. Then there
would be no need. I could stay in the
street until my time came. Next morning was French toast and
sausage. Walt ate at the table with us.
His color was somewhat better, and he ate without assistance. He had good days and bad days, and as days
went, this was the best one I'd seen. He
spoke stronger and ate about twenty pills with breakfast. Ty squeezed fresh oranges to make
juice. The meal was fantastic. Each day everything seemed better than the
day before. There was no mention of the
big A, or of our conversation about it from the night before. I didn't know how much Walt knew, but he had
enough problems without worrying about me.
I didn't intend to mention the possibility I might have it. It just seemed best not to talk about
it. But sometimes you don't plan things
and they just happen. "I'd like some ice cream for
tonight, Ty," Walt said. "What
flavor?" "Peach. I'd love to have some real peach ice
cream." "Butter fat
would be good for you. You must be
feeling better." "Some. Leave Billie Joe here with me. I feel pretty good, but I don't want to be
alone if I don't have to be."
"Sure," Ty said. "What else do you
want?" "More popcorn would be nice. You could rent a good movie. None of that violent shit you like. Rent us something nice. A love story, maybe." "Geez, Walt! A love story?
Nobody watches that crap." "I
do. I bet Billie Joe does. He looks like a lover." "Right," I said, stirring the third
spoonful of sugar into my second cup of coffee. "Better get some more sugar,
Ty. Billie Joe's storing the stuff in
his feet." Ty and Walt laughed. I stirred.
I took the dishes away from Ty so he could go. I wanted to keep busy. I was suddenly leery of Walt. Him getting stronger wasn't necessarily a
good thing. Ty had been gone quite awhile when
Walt asked for some water. I filled the
glass with cubes and let the water run awhile before covering the cubes. I wiped the counter and the last dish before
taking him the glass. "Sit," he ordered. I sat. "What's up?" Walt asked. "I don't know what you
mean." "Here you are." "That's obvious. You mean you wish I weren't?" "What are your plans? What are you going to do? You can't hide out in "He'll narc on me?" "He'll narc on you, and that's
bad enough. But if he narcs on you, he
also narcs on me. That could leave me a
little short." "You want me to leave?" "I didn't say that. I tell you to leave, Ty's goes. I'm not stupid. He cares an awful lot about you. You know that? I think he's in love with you." "I think we care about each
other." "Yes. You both care about each other, but Ty will
hang his ass out there for you. What
will you do for him? How far will you
hang it out there for Ty?" "Stay with him if he asks." "He asks. What will you do then?" "Hang out." "Until you're eighteen?" "Maybe. Or dead." "Look, kid. I'm going to lay it out here for you. Ty keeps me alive. If it weren't for him, I'd already be
dead. My family disowned me when they
found out I was gay. You know that
story. When I was dying, Ty was the one
that saved my life. That's why he is
here." He seemed to look inward. "We dated . . . ."
Walt paused a long moment, recalling
better times. "I used to buy Ty. He used to hustle me. I liked him and thought that was the only way
to have his company. That was a couple
of years ago. Now I found out he truly
likes me. Cause I never treated him like
meat. I took him to eat and brought him
up here to clean up and stuff. Now, I
can't live without him. I've signed over my insurance policy to him. A few hundred thousand. It won't do a lot for him, but it will keep
him alive awhile longer. He'll live
maybe a few years. The apartment will be
his. I tell you to leave, and he'll go with you. Of course he doesn't know about the insurance
or the apartment. I don't want him
helping me because he owes me. I want him to help me because he wants to help
me. You understand?" "Sure." "So, here we are. I got a runaway the cops are looking for and
a throw away that the cops will take if they come up here. I doubt they'll bother me. They don't want an AIDS patient down in the
lockup. I just think you'd be wise
cutting Ty some slack. If you care about
him, let him have a life. Don't drag him back to the gutter with you. I know you can. If it's important for you to do that, I'm
telling you he'll go. Ty thinks he loves
you. I think he loves you. He just doesn't need you right now. It's not in his best interest.” He paused, and drew a long breath. "That's it. Everything I had to say. Don't get me wrong,
Billie Joe. You're a nice kid. You should go home because that is where you
belong. This is Ty's home now. Don't take him away from it. I'm asking you to leave, but I want you to go
home. I want to know you're safe. I want Ty to know you're safe. He'll look for you if you just go off. That's not an option. I'd rather have you stay here than go back to
the street, but it's going to come to the door one day, and then we'll all be
shit out of luck." I was surprised. Walt was very honest about his feelings. He went to a closet and dragged out a green
box with a lock on it. He unlocked it
and flipped the lid back. He set down
some official looking documents in front of me. "I had these done while Ty was out one day. My friend is an attorney. This tells the
insurance company Ty is my only beneficiary.
This one shows Ty as the co-owner of the apartment. There is a little money in the bank accounts,
but it will mostly be gone by the time I'm gone. That will leave the insurance policy to take
care of Ty. Maybe when you are eighteen
you can come back and live with him here.
I would like to know Ty had someone with him at the end. I don't want to think he stayed with me until
I died and then he died alone. I don't
want to think about that." "Maybe he won't die. Maybe they'll find a cure." "Wishing and hoping are nice, Billie
Joe. Reality says we are both going to
die soon. At least I had some kind of a
life. I had twenty good years out in the
world. I loved and was loved. Maybe longevity wasn't one of the big things
for me, but I had my share of love. I
hope Ty can find that at least once.
He's so young. He'll miss out on
so much." Slowly, he replaced the documents in the green box and locked
it. "Well, I can't dwell on
that. I want you to know that Ty will be
taken care of financially, but I can't do anything about the other stuff. He was the only one that cared, and I want
him to know I cared about him. This is
between you and me, of course." He sat back and looked at me very
straight. "I know you'll make the right
decision." "You are putting me in a
corner." "Yes. I guess I am.
I'm making you make the decision.
It's the only decision that gives everyone exactly what they need."
"You mean my going home. Ty staying here with you." "You going home. Ty staying here with me. Exactly." "You were handsome?" "No. Cute when I was younger. I was never a prize. I did okay.
Sometimes it is best not to be too handsome. You never know if some one wants to be with
you or to be seen with you. I never had
that problem." "What did you do?" "I was an insurance account
executive." "Wow! Sounds pretty important." "I sold insurance. From a fancy office, though. No door-to-door shit." "You make a lot of money?" "Not so much I couldn't spend it
all between paydays." "I
don't know what I want to do." "Go back to school and you'll
have a better shot at figuring it out." "How'd you get it? AIDS." "I think it was about four years
ago. I'd been with a guy for seven years. We broke up. I didn't like the bars or clubs. I liked the baths. It was around the time they closed them, but
they didn't close them soon enough. I
got into drugs and alcohol. Feeling
lonely and alone, I couldn't stand it. I went to the baths and had sex with
four of five guys at the same time. I
mean sucking, fucking, the whole nine yard orgy." I thought of my time in the hotel with sex in
every hand and orifice. Walt continued. "It only lasted a few weeks, maybe a
month, then I stopped feeling so worthless.
All these guys wanting me made me feel better about myself. Of course, it also killed me. It was an expensive way to get over being
alone." "So you got it by doing it with a
lot of guys?" I leaned my chin on the backs of my
hands on the table, looking up at Walt as he remembered his past. I remembered the nights in the hotel doing it
with people I didn't even know or remember. "You can get it by doing it with
just one person if that person has it." "I mean it is more likely if you
did this for, say, just four or five days, or less likely than the way you did
it." "What do you
mean?" "Say a guy got drugged up and
spent a few days fucking and sucking everybody in sight. Would he be more likely to get it that way,
or the way you did it with the bath thing?" "You don't understand, Billie Joe. You get it by doing it with someone that's
got it. You can do it with a hundred
guys a night and won't get it if they don't have it. You do it with one guy and he's got it, you
got it, or it's likely you got it. It
doesn't pass every time. Some guys don't
get it as easy as others." "Say I did it with some guys I
didn't know. What would be the chance I
got it?" I watched Walt's eyes widen. He tensed up and a god-awful look came on his
face. He was watching my face for
expression and meaning. "Ty said you were clean. You hadn't done anything to get it. Have you, Billie Joe? Are you telling my you're that guy doing it
with everyone in sight?" "I think so. I think I might have it." Walt got up and came around the table
hugging me weakly to his side. I could
feel him sob a couple of times as he held my face against his shirt. "I'm sorry, Billie Joe. I didn't know. Ty said . . . . I didn't think you would go that far down in
such a short time. I mean I didn't
really think at all. You've got to be
tested. Not now. It's too soon. Six months.
You've got to be tested in six months.
If you want to stay with us, that's okay. I won't force you out. Not now.
I won't do that. We'll just take
the chance together. One of us goes
down, we'll all go down. I know that's
the way Ty would want it. We'll have to
talk to him. Does he know
anything." "He won't even listen to me. He keeps telling me to shut up. I tried to tell him about it." "He loves you, Billie Joe. He wanted to get you out of here safe. I guess maybe he can't do that now. I'm sorry, Billie Joe." "I did it with a lot of
guys. I mean I didn't want to take it up
the butt, but it happened one night. I
didn't think it much mattered after that.
I mean I was like you at the baths,
trying not to be alone. I
didn't plan to do it." I squeezed my eyes shut. "It just happened." "Drugs and alcohol have killed a
lot of people. They get fucked up and do
something stupid like you did. That's
how you get it. It only takes one stupid
night. You're so young, Billie Joe. You still need to go home. You need to be somewhere where you can get
treatment. If we try to get you treated
here, they'll just take you into custody.
You're too young to get treatment without your parents. You still need to go home." "I don't know if I can,
Walt. I might be better off on the
streets. My parents'll kill me." He walked back around and sat down in
his chair. He wiped tears from his eyes. "I don't know how to go
home. I don't want to just go to the
cops," I said. "Maybe you could give me the
phone number. I'll see what I can
do. I'll tell them I can contact
you. I'll tell them that you’re a friend
of a friend, and I'll try to talk you into talking with them." "There's a reward." "A reward? You're parents want you back pretty
bad." "I guess. They never seemed to care much when I was
there. I never did much right." "It gets better, Billie
Joe." "Yeah, that’s what they
said." Walt started laughing and shaking his
head. "August twenty second was the
night you came. Today is August twenty
sixth." "Guess I missed it. Does that mean I'm fifteen another
year?" "I don't think it works that
way.” “I’m not sixteen. I’m seventeen. I
can’t lie to you. I don’t need to lie any longer. I was seventeen four days
ago, but when I came up here, I literally didn’t know what day it was. I do now
and I have you to thank for it. “I don’t tell the truth about my age
either,” Walt said, giving me a big smile. “We'll send Ty out for some
cake and ice cream. We can’t let your
birthday pass unrecognized. It’s bad luck no matter how old you admit to. I
told Ty I was Twenty-seven when we met. I was Thirty-seven. He didn’t care.
He’s a prince." "You got to be kidding. I'll be lucky to get out of my room by
seventeen. I'll be on restriction from now until I'm forty if I go home." "You give me your home phone
number. I'll try to make peace for
you. I'll talk to Todd. He'll see to it they don't get abusive. He's pretty well respected around town. He looks after the hopeless kids if he can
get them to stand still for it. The gay ones are hardest to reach. They don’t
trust anyone. He lost one when he first started. He never got over that. Always
thought it was his fault. Now there
isn't anything he won't try to help a kid." "He gay?" "No. I don't think so. I don't know.
Never asked him. Subject never
came up." Ty came back a few minutes later,
shortly after Walt put the box away in the top of the closet. He brought a half gallon of peach and a half
gallon of rocky road because he knew that was my favorite. "You've got to go back out,
Ty." "What? What did you forget to tell me?" "Birthday cake. Our boy here was seventeen four days ago."
"That was the night I brought him
home?" "Yep." "Why didn't you tell
me?" "I didn't know what day it
was. Wasn't sure what month it was.
Never thought about it." "He's going with me. I'm not walking back down there alone." "Yeah. I'm okay.
You boys go ahead. Here's a few
extra dollars. Stop at the bakery and
get something real nice. That's a lot
closer. Better bring some milk
back. I want some whole milk with my
birthday cake. How about you, Billie
Joe? That sound good to you. We'll have
a party." "Milk sounds great. Party sounds good," I answered. We went back down the stairs and
headed for the bakery. “You really seventeen or are you
whatever age you say you are?” “I couldn’t lie to him. I’m seventeen
these past four days.” “Cool,” Ty said with a smile. |
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