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have made the kid swallow sooner.
The next morning, Matthew didn't hear his friend leave. When he found the note, he could barely read it through his tears.
“Dear Matt,
I can no longer do this. I love you too much. Let’s go our separate ways. Please take care of yourself.
Jose."
Like raindrops splattered on hot concrete, Matthew's tears covered the letter. More than ever, he needed Jose to comfort him, to bring him physical and emotional balance. Matthew wanted to tell Jose that he loved him too, but it was too late.
* * * * *
Losing Jose was like losing a big brother. The two grew up together, worked on the farm together, and even hit on girls together. All that history was gold.
In addition, having sex with Jose was like losing one's virginity every time. Yet Matthew would have gladly given that up if he could have his friend back. But it was too late, for the path that he took couldn't be retraced. And if losing Jose wasn't enough, other tragedies looming in the distance neared themselves.
It was on his walk back from a food delivery that Matthew noticed a familiar figure in the patio area of a nearby restaurant. But who she was sitting with surprised him even more. Before he could change his direction, his mom made eye contact and beckoned him over.
"Matt … I want you to meet someone."
Matthew wasn't sure why his mom was going to introduce him to someone he already knew.
"Tom, I want you to meet my son. Matt, this is your Uncle Tom."
Matthew glanced at his mom’s lunch companion with confusion.
"Have you two … met before?"
"Matthew was one of my former students," explained Professor Hubbard.
"Oh …. that's great. Matt, Tom is your father's younger brother.”
“Wait … we’re related?”
“Daniel’s father married Tom’s mother. Your father (Daniel) and Tom are stepbrothers.”
His mom’s words hit Matthew like a brick to the back of his head. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. He looked at his teacher, he looked at his mom, then he excused himself.
Walking as fast as he could, Matthew sprinted for several blocks, then disappeared around the corner. Out of breath and clearly upset, he kept on going, until he felt sick to his stomach. He eventually slowed down and leaned against a wall to throw up.
"Matthew … wait up," called Professor Hubbard, as he caught up to his nephew.
"How could I … have been such a fool?" complained Matthew.
"You weren't. I was."
"But you and my father are not biological siblings. You’re … just stepbrothers, right?"
"Matthew … I knew your mom. I dated her too."
"You … what?"
"My brother was an asshole. He used her. I loved her."
"Don't tell me you're my father."
"No … your mom was already pregnant at the time."
That was when it hit him. While Matthew’s mom was pregnant with him, Tom was fucking her. Then, 18 years later, the same man that had been fucking his mom was now regularly fucking him too.
Matthew turned around and ran. First Jose, then this! Matthew wondered if there was a god and if perhaps he had done something wrong to deserve this. He grew up without a father, lost his stepfather, and now … not only did he lose Jose, but the only person that he had ever loved was related to him.
* * * * *
Some say that god works in mysterious ways, testing you, making you suffer, so when you ascend to the next life you would appreciate the miracle of this one. Then there are others who say these people are full of shit.
Matthew didn't know what he did to deserve this. Losing Jose and Professor Hubbard on the same day devastated him. Whatever else could go wrong couldn't be worse, or so he thought.
The kid decided to drown his sorrows away. Maybe he'd wake up the next day and everything would go back to normal. In any case, he wouldn't know for sure until tomorrow. Right now, all he cared about was to get wasted.
So when Sara called him that night, Matthew didn’t pick up. Her father had returned and Alex had run away from home. By the time Matthew stumbled back to his room, he went to bed without checking his phone.
The next morning, Matthew returned Sara's missed calls. Sara was worried and didn’t sleep. She had called the police and filed a missing person’s report. He immediately picked her up to search for Alex. They drove all over town.
Two hours later … Matthew received a call from Alex's mom, the call that would change his life forever. When they picked up Alex’s mom, her complexion was white as a ghost.
What he remembered most were the flashing red lights, the multitude of flashing red lights that blurred his vision as his vehicle arrived at the scene.
The next few hours were a blur, as he didn’t want to remember any of the details ....
Matthew was down on the ground, beside his best friend. He had taken Alex off the fence post. His body, cradled in Matthew’s arms, was cold and completely limp. Matthew's head was down, staring at his best friend’s lifeless expression.
"NO! NO! NO!" cried Matthew, as his head shook back and forth. "Not Alex! Please … not Alex!"
Alex had been stripped naked, beaten, stabbed, and left to die on a fence post, "FAGGOT" spray-painted across his chest.
"PLEASE god … please!" incoherently sobbed Matthew.
EVERY moment and every second was pure torture. It was as if time had stopped and nothing else mattered anymore.
"PLEASE … tell me this is not real!" begged Matthew, as his body shook and trembled a hundred times, a thousand times.
ALL that Matthew ever wanted, all that he ever had … was in his arms. He would never let go of his best friend. NEVER.
"Oh, Alex!" cried Sara, as she collapsed beside her mom.
Rocking his best friend in his arms, Matthew ignored the world around him. Sara held her mom up, who had broken down multiple times.
The detectives and police officers surrounded the family, but they were reluctant to intervene, for who would, in their right mind, prevent a family from saying goodbye to their only son, brother, and best friend?
"ALEX … don't do this to me. Don't you fucking do this to me!" sobbed Matthew. "I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT YOU … I really can’t! Please don’t do this to me. PLEASE!"
They say that “when it rains it pours.” That day, it poured. All night long and into the next day, Matthew cried nonstop and wailed in pain and grief until his throat could no longer make a sound.
* * * * *
To be continued. jason00usa@gmail.com
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