Chapter 13: Peter

Dad and I went fishing. We took McElroy's Honor and dropped anchor in the Chesapeake for two days. A Father-Son fishing trip like we used to do when I was a kid. To celebrate.

George McElroy was excluded by the second test.

"I knew it in my heart." Dad say again as we sat watching the moonrise over the bay. "Why I couldn't let her abort you. I knew you was mine."

I just nod. I still feel like I just dodged a bullet.

We sit in silence for a while. I've been a rotten son the last couple of months. He's probably been wondering if that was why - if I was never his child and it was just beginning to show. "Dad..." I've been trying all day to say I love him. That I trust him. That I am so relieved and glad that he's my father. "That day I gave Trina my car..."

He nods, "Yeah the day you started-" he clears his throat, "Yeah. I remember it."

"Alex..." He not gonna like this. But I trust him. I want Dad to know I trust him, "Alex an' Lisa had a fight."

"You told me."

"No, not an argument. A fight." His face hardens as he realizes my meaning, "He hit her, Dad and I wanted to get her away from him fast so I let Trina take the car an' made Alex walk."

"An' you didn't tell me 'cause you figured I'd put him in jail."

I look away, "I didn't tell anybody 'cause Ima coward." I sigh heavily, "I shoulda tol' somebody. See, Lisa bein' beat up on a regular basis."

"What? By Alex?"

"No; her Dad, I think but she won't say an' Alex an' me never caught him. Anyway after Alex hit her, she came to school pretty messed up - way more messed up than the couple uh slaps from Alex."

"An' he blamed himself, didn't he."

Not a hard guess to make. "The day we cut class..." I take a deep breath, "Alex tried to ... to drown himself."

Dad doesn't say anything for a minute, "How serious uh try."

"Eight minutes in the Wicomico."

He puts his head in his hands, "Lord Jesus, thank you." He nods and looks at me, "You right, George don't need ta know 'bout that. How'd you keep it quiet? Who got him out?"

"I did."

He covers his face again. "You did." He doesn't look at me as he asks, "How long were you under?"

I shrug, "Not long. Four minutes, maybe."

He nods again, no doubt doing roughly the same math I did on the shore that day waiting for Alex to breath again. "So, when I spoke to you..."

" ... Alex was in the tub but I was still dripping wet."

"You were right." He clears his throat, "I'm sorry I didn't trust you."

"No, see that's the thing I shoulda told you from the start. See, I don't know what ta do now. See, Alex is..." Fucked up I wanna say but that's not a useful description, "He's been, I don't know, kinda messed up. He's not acting right, not like Alex. I don't know how to say it. But I'm really worried about him an' - an' I don't know what to do."

"You think he might try it again?"

"No. It's not like that. Just, like, he's not as kinda in-your-face as he used to be, ya' know?"

"Oh." Dad thinks a few minutes then shakes his head. "Peter, I'll tell you the truth, I think maybe that water put the fear uh God in the boy. I mean, George and Stacy both noticed something was different - once he started talking again. They were getting' called by the school about once a week. But they haven't gotten one in a couple of months. He's been helping out around the house. George an' me was beginning to think you two swapped places. Whatever happened that day, I think you did it right."

"But..." I stop. I am not ready to tell him everything. "What if I did something that I'm not sure was good for me but I know it was right for Alex?"

"Pray on it. Sometimes we have ta sacrifice ourselves for the people we love. You think I was happy ta marry a woman carryin' a child I didn't know fo' a fact was mine? But I did it, 'cause I knew it was best for her." He looks away for a moment - overwhelmed again - "Sides, I knew you was mine. I felt it."

I hug my father. "I knew too."

Monday, school's a lot more bearable. Alex is a lot more bearable. He looks worried when I see him.

"Mornin' Cous." I greet him.

"Everything cool?" He asks. He's trying to appear casual but I know him too well. I have to laugh.

"Chill, dude. You are way too stressed." I slap his shoulder and head for my seat, "You should get laid."

There's a short pause before he says, "Shit, yeah."

Maybe I can do this.

Michelle sits with us at lunch. And she sits with me while I wait for Alex to finish football practice.

We talk about everything and nothing - family, classmates, whatever. She doesn't mention last week so I don't either. She's nice. She's pretty. But this thing with Alex is complicated; I don't know if she'd understand it.

Then I laugh at myself - I can date a girl without explaining Alex. I like Michelle. I reach over and kiss her. I catch her off guard because she was in the middle of a word but she doesn't seem to mind too much.

"You wanna go out to a movie tomorrow?" I ask when I finally let her go.

"Sure." She sounds a little distant.

"You ok?"

"Sure."

I look back at the field. Most of the team is heading to the locker room but Alex is down field with the kicker.

"Hey Michelle, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?" She sounds more focused.

"Did you really want to..." I stop as I realize how what I'm about to say is gonna sound, "Wait, first, last week was -" I search for a word, "- unbelievable."

"Yeah?" she blushes. It's very pretty.

"Yeah. But I don't expect..." that's not what I want to say either. "I mean I'd like ta..."

"Peter, my parents will be home tomorrow night so I'll have to be home by curfew." she says simply.

"So." I clear my throat, feeling like a complete jackass, "We'll see a movie, grab some pizza an' be home early."

She smiles shyly, "Ok." she picks up her books, smiles at me again and heads to the parking lot. Her walk is almost hypnotic.

When she's out of sight, I remember Alex. He's not on the field so I go wait by the looker room. When he comes out, I tell him to get a date for tomorrow night. "Oh yeah," I say as we head for the car, "the new rule applies."

"Fuck off." He grumbles.

We go to his house after school and study. I've a paper due before the holiday so I pretty much hog his computer.

"Hey, Peter." He's lying on his bed staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah?"

"When are you gonna fuck me?"

I turn and look at him, "Say that again?" He's still staring at the ceiling.

"You heard me."

I heard him. In all honesty, I'm glad he won't say it again; I'm not sure I want to hear it again. I turn back to the computer but I know I'm not writing jack shit tonight.

"Well?" he prods.

"Why would you even ask me that."

"Just ... I donno, shit."

'Oh god', I think, 'this is a master thing, isn't it?' I turn back and face him. "Sit up, Alex." When he does, I take a deep breath, "Why do you think I'm gonna - that I even wanna - I mean, do you want to..."

"If-n I'm uh fag, I wanna be a fag, right? So," he shrugs, "what the fuck?"

"Oh." I'm not sure what to do with that. Just when I thought this was getting simpler, Alex finds a way to complicate it again. "Since when are you gay, dude?"

"Since you - you know."

"Dude, I've seen you with a ton of girls since then. You are not gay."

He shrugs.

"Ok, who's the hottest cheerleader?"

"Morgan Glen."

"Who's the hottest football player?" he shrugs again. "Who's the best hung?" His brow furrows while he thinks about it. "Ok, who's ass do you wanna fuck?"

"Shit, I don't know."

"Dude, you shower naked with them everyday! You are totally not gay."

"Yeah, but I totally want -" he stops mid phrase.

"Want who?" he makes a face and shakes his head, "Alex. If you want a guy I want to know who."

"You." He says in a kind of strangled voice, "I-I want you."

I stare at him trying to keep the panic off my face, "Is this new or since, since, you know?"

"Just since." He says quickly. "I talked ta Faroud that first day an' it been just you since."

"Faroud?" I'm jealous. Actually, seething jealous. It must show on my face 'cause Alex actually shrinks back.

"We just talked. I heard a rumor he was gay an' wann'ed ta ask, you know, stuff."

"So you told him about us?" If he says yes, I'm throwin' him back in the river.

Thankfully, he looks appalled, "Fuck no!" he relaxes a bit, "Jesus, dude, I'm not uh fuckin' retard! I just asked him how you find out if-n you a fag."

I roll my eyes; knowing Alex, that's exactly how he asked him, too. "What did he say?"

He shrugs "He didn't know really. Said you ain't uh fag if-n you can't tongue kiss uh guy." Alex looks away and blushes, "Then he tongue kissed me." I can't decide if I'm outraged or turned on by the thought of Alex kissing another guy. "I swear, dude, nothing else happened." He rushes on, "He kissed me by the goal post, I got him back in the locker room alcove, an' that was it."

"You what?" Outrage just took a decided lead in my personal war.

"Dude, there's nothin' goin' on, I swear. I, you know, kinda came on too strong an' he pussied out."

I stare at him for a minute. He is utterly amazing; the little shithead doesn't see a problem here. I can't remember ever being this angry. Ground rules. Granddad said lay ground rules. I shudda listened.

"Alex. I'm going home in a minute 'cause I figure I won't try an' kill you before that. Starting tomorrow, you will address me as 'Peter'..."

"Dude, I already call you..."

"Shut up." I snap and he actually cowers, "As 'Peter'. Not 'dude' or 'cous' or anything else when we're in public. When we're alone, you will call me 'Sir'."

"The fuck I..."

"You will or I will 'Out' you over Christmas dinner." That got his attention. "You will tell me everything from now on. You don't talk to anyone without me knowing, you don't kiss anyone without my permission. An' Alex, get this, I'm not ever gonna fuck you. Ever."

By the time I make the fifteen minute drive home, Alex has called my cell six times and I've realized two things. First, that this Master stuff gives me a rush. A real rush. A maybe-this-isn't-just-for-Alex kinda rush.

Second, I just lied; I am so gonna fuck Alex. It's gross, it's sick, it's perverted but I'm gonna do it.

The next few days are pretty hard - not the planning where or how ta take Alex or the making Alex suffer parts. Those are easy. The hard part is not letting Alex know how much I enjoy watching him bend over backwards to try an get me ta forgive him.

For starters, he follows all my instructions. I make him volunteer to play guitar when the Ballroom Dance club puts up their flyer. Buy lunch for Beth one day when she comes to borrow money from me. I add 'no cursing' to his list of rules an' make him apologize ta the janitor for swearing. I practically hurt myself trying not to laugh at him. Finally I let Michelle and Beth in on it - not totally but enough to let them push him around for a day or so as well.

Sunday in church, he looks miserable and I can't put him through it any more. "You have to tell me everything from now on, Alex, we can't have secrets an' do this."

"Yes, Sir." He's studying his shoes.

"Alex," he looks at me, "I'd rather be yo' friend than yo' Master. If-n we gotta chose, there ain't no contest fo' me." I put my hand out. He takes my hand and pulls me in for a hug. When he lets me go, there are tears in his eyes. "Hey, we going fishin' on Wednesday - all day. Uncle Edward letting' us take the Sunrise providin' we give him half our catch. You wanna go?" This is easy - Alex loves fishing.

"Sure. What time?"

"Early. Be at the dock at 5am."

He groans but nods and I try not to grin too wide - he didn't even ask who 'we' included.

5am Wednesday, I park by the Davidson dock house and find half my family standing around drinking coffee. I remember - since most of the crew are off to spend the holidays with their own families, mine are here to fish for the restaurants that we provide daily fresh fish. Great Aunt Candice is assigning all of them to commercial boats - either the Honor or the Pride - so there are a couple of indignant shouts when she assigns me to the Sunrise - which is one of our charters. She quells them with a threat to make them all work Christmas Day.

Alex an' Uncle George arrive finally as everyone is beginning to drift out. When Aunt Candice assigns him to the Sunrise as well, my Granddad casually wanders over to me. "I suggest ya'll use the nets for an hour or so. Capt. Ed don't ask question if-n ya come back with a full cooler uh bass." Then he heads out with my Dad and Uncle Marcus.

Alex and I prep the boat while the commercial boats launch. I make a show of peering down the dock every so often like I'm waiting for someone else. When we're ready, I call in and head underway. I have two years more on the water than Alex so I get ta be 'Captain' today. I tell Alex - 'Al' since we're shipboard, which makes me 'Pete' - to set up both nets. He's been looking at me oddly since I cast off, but he hasn't asked any questions. It won't take long ta get up Cockerell Creek ta where I wanna go so half an hour in, I tell him to drop the nets.

"How much fish you plannin' ta catch, Pete?" he asks finally.

"Cooler an' uh half. Get started. I'll be right out."

I watch Al work from the wheelhouse.

He's a kid. I know he thinks he knows what he wants but he's just a kid. He could be screwed up for life. I could be screwed up for life. Already, I get annoyed with Michelle when she doesn't do what I tell her to do. How can I have a normal relationship if I'm as screwed up as Alex is?

But he has been calmer in school and even more focused on the football field. Aunt Stacy has been happier 'cause Alex's grades went up this quarter and he hasn't been in any fights - none that got reported at least. Alex may just really be a Masochist. He may really need this to be whole. Right. This could all be good for him.

He needs a therapist to figure this stuff out with not me. He should talk ta Granddad or someone else who knows about this stuff. Not me. Anybody but me. I'm just a kid. He's just a kid.

He's got the nets down by the time I come on deck. I pretend to check the rigging but Al has been doin' this almost as long as I have; as expected, the knots are tight an' everything's secure.

I do not expect him to slide up behind me and wrap his arms around my waist. "Pete," he whispers, "Sir, the nets are down." Inside my coat, I shiver. He's a damn seductive kid.

"I gotta steer." I find some strength and pull away from him. He follows me into the wheelhouse. I look at the instruments. Uncle Ed always says if the engine is runnin' yo' brain best be runnin' with it.

"I thought Michelle might be comin' with us." Al says.

"No, she had family stuff today." Not that I figure she would fish with us in December - even without my plans for the day.

"An' you didn't volunteer us ta work the commercial boats?"

"They got an kinda girls against guys bet goin' for biggest haul. Grandma Rachael vs Granddad."

"Oh there's a fun day." He snorts.

"Yeah, but they'll all be in by noon. I'd planned ta be out all day."

"Yeah?" Al's voice fairly drips with innuendo.

"So we could talk." I throw out. Even I don't believe that one.

Clearly he doesn't either, "Sure you right." He chuckles.

He watches me handle the boat for a while. The creek is beautiful at this time of year. I'm always amazed by the grace of the bare branches and the dark reflective water. I'm surprised we don't charter as many tours in the winter as in the summer.

"You ever think 'bout it?" I ask Al.

"'Bout what?"

"Working the boats. You know, full time. Like Uncle Ed."

He shakes his head, "I only like the fishin' part; I hate everything else." He looks out the window at the landscape around us, "It's dull, it's ugly and it's cold."

He's serious. Jackass.

After a while, he checks on the nets. "'Bout another half hour, should pull 'em up." He slides his arms around me again, "Any idea how we can kill time?"

I pry him loose, "Not while I'm runnin' the boat." I don't like admitting it, but he's getting to me, "If you need ta keep busy, run laps round the deck."

"Fuck off." He says out of habit.

Got him.

"Alex. Go run ten laps around the deck."

I can see in his face that he's madder at himself than at me. He swears again - under his breath. "Say again?"

"Yes, Sir." His teeth are all but clinched.

"Leave your coat here." Watching Al sweat ought to be entertaining.

That stops him, though, "It's cold." He almost sneers the amended "Sir."

"You'll warm up fast enough."

"No, I won't."

"Then run twenty laps. That ought ta work up a sweat."

"Peanut butter."

The phrase is so odd, it takes me a full minute to figure it out. "Wait. You'll suck my dick on command but you won't run laps without a coat?"

"No. I won't run laps. I hate that lap shit on the field. I ain't doin' it in the off season. Even for you. Sorry. Sir."

I can't help smiling. That Alex has limits is very good news. He won't let me do absolutely anything. I was beginning to worry. I turn back to the wheel. "Ok. No laps. Go bring in the nets. We don't need that much fish ta fill the cooler."

He goes back on deck and I re-think my plan for the day. I came onboard planning to tie him up - his Christmas gift - spank him and screw him. Then, I sort of thought maybe I should just talk him out of all of this. Now I don't know what ta do.