Chapter 15

Timmy woke before MotorHead and laid there in the early morning light, thinking. He felt shame when he thought of Will, but he also felt some anger. "Stupid Christer," Timmy decided. He briefly touched on the previous evening, but screwed up his face, and let it go. Yeah, it was over the top, but fuck it, it hadn't really meant anything. He decided to get up and fix Motor some breakfast, although he wasn't sure of his own motivation.

Motor came out shortly after the smell of cooking eggs began to waft through the small cottage. He roughly grabbed Timmy's face, and stuck his tongue in Timmy's mouth. "Morning, Boy," he said after the sloppy kiss. "Good Boy, making me breakfast."

Timmy blushed, unsure of whether to be pleased with the compliment. "Good morning," he ventured. He put some eggs on a plate and put them in front of Motor.

"Where's yours?" Motor demanded, gruffly.

"Naw, I don't eat much in the morning," replied Timmy. He'd already had a cup of coffee.

Motor reached over and slapped his face. "Don't treat me with disrespect, Boy," he chastised.

"Uh, uh, ok," stumbled Timmy, wondering what he had done wrong, and what he had gotten himself into.

"Ok, SIR," Motor instructed him.

Timmy looked down at the table. "Yes, sir," he muttered like a puppet.

Motor decided to let the obvious lack of conviction go. "Go on, take your shower, and then I'm taking you to work," he commanded.

"Yes, sir," Timmy said again, as he escaped into the bathroom.

Motor did as promised, and dropped Timmy at work. Timmy was a little unhappy walking into work in yesterday's smelly clothes, but it wasn't anything that he hadn't done before. He was back to looking green around the gills, being hung over, in pain from being beaten, and much sicker again. He was very glad to be on time, because as long as he did his work, Denise wouldn't come and get on his case.

She did, however, fuss over him. "You look and smell like something the cat dragged in," she chided. "Isn't that what you wore yesterday?"

"I was so sick this morning, I guess I didn't notice what I was putting on," Timmy fudged.

"I'm glad you're going for surgery on Monday, Timmy. You really need it," she chided with concern.

Timmy was touched. Denise was mothering him. He blushed, and gave her a shy grin.

"Thank you, Denise. Yes, you're right," he told her. She smiled back, patted him on the arm, and bustled off.

Timmy was glad that Denise didn't know about he was really like. She'd hate him then, and he'd be out on his ear. He was surprised she'd shown any kindness toward him as it was, given all his goofups. He didn't notice himself humming as he returned to pressing fabric.

He remembered that he had wanted to call Jennifer when he went to lunch. She expressed pleasure at hearing from him.

"I wanted to be sure that everything was ok for my surgery," he said. "I'm not feeling too good today."

"As far as I know," she confirmed. "Didn't you see the doctor on Monday?" Timmy realized Jennifer didn't know the details that had been set up. He had wrongly assumed Dr. Lathan had passed the information along to Jennifer.

Timmy told Jennifer of the dates for surgery, and what he had to do to prepare. Then he asked his real question, "How is this going to be paid for?"

Jennifer hesitated telling Timmy that his folks were such jerks, but then considered that Timmy already knew them very well. She sighed. "Well, I called your parents about it."

"Uh oh," worried Timmy.

"No, not a problem. I simply told them that if they didn't pay, the state would sue them. They have an obligation to you until you're 18, and that doesn't happen until early summer next year. I'm sure they'll come through when they have to," Jennifer assured him. "I will call the hospital and give them your parents' information, and it will be up to the hospital to bill them at first. I'll also tell them to contact me if your parents don't pay, so I can get the ball rolling to force them to pay."

"One thing, my parents don't have much money," fretted Timmy.

"Then it's their responsibility to make payment arrangements, or borrow the money, or apply for assistance - not yours."

Timmy felt a huge relief, and a little thrill that his old man, the bastard, was going to have to cough up the dough for him.

"Jennifer, thank you so much. I really appreciate everything you're doing for me," Timmy said with gratitude.

After a brief click of time, Jennifer's hoarse voice said, "Don't worry about it, Kid, it's my job. Your job is to get your life on track." She began to sound bossier. "After the surgery, we're going to get you signed up to take the GED test. And then ... and then, we're going to get you into college."

Timmy was shocked. He had never given college more than a second's thought. Ah, his grades had been great in elementary school, and fairly passable in high school, but he had only finished two and a half years at the secondary level. Since he had dropped out, he had partied and wandered all over the country.

"Well, I dunno, Jennifer. I'll think about it," he dithered.

"That's all I can ask, Timmy, think about it. For right now, take care of yourself, and get your body fixed up Monday. Ok?" she pressed.

"Yes, Ma'am," Timmy said on a happier note. They exchanged good byes, and ended the call.

By this time, the hangover had receded, and the afternoon passed more pleasantly for Timmy, even with his sore bruises and sick body. It was with a much lighter heart that he hitched home.

As he came into the town where he and Will lived, however, he felt himself tense up at the thought of coming face to face with his roommate. When his ride let him out, he headed to the little diner to buy something cheap, rather than go up to the apartment. An open face sandwich with some vegetables only cost a couple of bucks, and he had that much left over from the college boy incident of the previous night, so he ordered a hot turkey sandwich and a soda. As he ate, he had to fight the rising nausea that had started when he remembered Will's reaction to the sex they shared.