Jamie Brodie 02 - Hoarded to Death

male classmates chase the girls around the playground. I knew I was dif ferent, but yeah, I hadn’t had the words to describe it until much later.
    Pete continued. “The priest was friendly with all the altar boys, asking us about school and sports, wearing jeans and t-shirts, acting cool. I know now that he spotted me a mile away, the kid with the crush on him. He’d ask me to help him with stuff, moving books around in his office and polishing candlesticks. I’d do anything he asked, just so I could hang out with him.” Pete closed his eyes and took another deep breath. “The first time he felt me up was about six months after he came to the parish. I’d helped him carry some stuff into his office from his car. He turned around and said, ‘I want to thank you for all your help. I want to give you something special.’ Then he put his hand on my crotch and rubbed. He said, ‘Doesn’t that feel good? I want to make you feel good.’” Pete finished his beer, set the bottle on the floor, and rubbed his face. “And of course it did feel good. It felt great. The next time, he went a little further. And then a little further the time after that. And then...you get the picture.”
    I closed my eyes, trying to get the picture out of my head. “I need another drink. And my inhaler.”
    Pete jumped to his feet. “Oh, shit. Are you okay? I…”
    I stood up and stopped him. “I’m fine. I just need a drink, and I’m a little short of breath. I’m fine.” I tried to give him a smile. “No worries.”
    I went upstairs and used my inhaler in the bedroom, then came back down, got another beer, and rejoined Pete in the living room. “Okay. All fixed.”
    “You’re sure?” Pete looked distressed.”
    “I’m sure. One hundred percent.” I swallowed. “Go ahead.”
    Pete leaned forward again, looking at the floor. “It wasn’t ...awful. He took his time, and he wore a condom. I knew it was bad, that he shouldn’t be doing this, but…I had this crazy crush on him, and I would do anything to spend time with him. So I let him do what he wanted.”
    “How long did it go on?”
    “Six months.”
    “How did it end?”
    “The church was in between school and home, and I’d stop there on the way home every day. By that time I wanted to stop, but he said no. He said we couldn’t tell anyone, we’d both be in big trouble. Of course I wouldn’t have been in any trouble, but he made me think I would. And by this time I’d figured out I was gay, and…it still felt good, you know? It was consensual, I mean as consensual as a fourteen year old is capable of being. But…my brother was getting suspicious. And one day he followed me into the church, and he saw us. You know Steve, he’s a big guy…well he was nearly that big at 16, and he put the priest up against the wall and told him if he ever touched me again, that Steve would kill him. And I think he would have. On the way home I told Steve everything. We got home and Steve told my mother, and she said I was lying, that Steve was lying about what he’d seen, that the priest was a man of God and he would never do such a thing, blah blah blah. She completely took the priest’s side and called us liars. And my sister was saying the same things. I was crying in my room, and my mom and Christine and Steve are screaming at each other out in the kitchen. It was terrible. Then my mom had to go somewhere, to some kind of meeting at the church, and while she was gone Steve called my dad. And he came and got us. He packed all our stuff in the car, and waited for my mom to get back, and then he told her that he was taking us, and if she tried to do anything about it he’d make sure that everyone in Barstow knew that she’d let the priest repeatedly commit statutory rape on her son, and both she and the priest would be ruined in the town. So she let us go. She chose the priest and her reputation over me. Over both of her sons. So we packed everything we owned, and right in the middle of the school year moved to Lancaster.” He got up for another beer.
    That explained a lot.
    It explained his reaction to what I’d said yesterday. It explained why he'd only have sex face-to-face. It explained everything.
    Pete came back to the sofa with his fourth beer and handed me my third. He'd be the one with the hangover in the morning. He took a drink, then leaned back in his seat and looked at me. "What are you thinking?"
    "I'm horrified. And I want to kill somebody on