The Rules of Lost Boys

Chapter 9: My Father's Son

•Oscar(Ozzy)•

* "Oscar, are your things packed yet?" My mother asked, poking her head into my room for the first time today. Her face was surprisingly heavier on the make up and her blouse a bit more loose fitting. I hadn't seen her give this much effort since my father died in a tragic accident 2 years ago. Sometimes I worried that she'd never find a man to make her as happy as my father did, but she eventually started dating again.

"Yes, Belvedere informed me this morning mother," I replied respectfully. Geoffrey Belvedere was my families butler who was more like a close uncle to me. My father had left us with a large fortune so I really didn't have to worry about much.

"Good, make sure you have everything. I really don't want to be late," she said sternly. I was finally going to meet this mystery man she had been dating for some time now. I feared that maybe my mother didn't want me meeting him. I was the only thing that reminded her of her deceased husband. Everything my father ever owned was either given to my grandparents or put away in storage. I knew she just wanted to forget about the years she spent with him by the way she avoided talking about his death. There were even times when she'd look at me and this wave of sadness would wash over her aging face.

"Ummm...mother?" I mumbled before she could creep away from the door.

"Yes Oscar?" She replied. She still hadn't looked at me directly. It was like she wanted to avoid staring at me all together.

"I was wondering if you could tell me a little about this man. You don't speak about him very often and I don't want to go in not knowing anything," I explained. My mother's blue eyes were now fixed on me as her red lipstick covered lips spread into a smile.

"Well, his name is Gerald. He works in the financial district. I met him on one of my trips to the U.S. and we sort of hit it off. He has a daughter with his ex-wife and plays footy(soccer) in his free time," she replied seeming satisfied that I was even interested.

"Oh, he sounds...lovely," I replied with sudden sadness. If I didn't know any better, this Gerald guy, minus the job description, sounded a lot like my father. My father was a big time lawyer who spent most of his free time training me.

"Oscar, don't do this now. It's been 2 years and..."

"I know...it's just...dad was the one who got me into football(soccer). You just reminded me of him is all," I explained. I hated this. Avoiding talking about memories with my father because my mother wanted to forget. I never wanted to forget.

"He's gone Oscar and there's nothing we can do about it. So there's no point in bringing something like that up," she replied harshly. I could tell she was on the brink of breaking down, but held it in. It didn't take long before she quickly left me to my own thoughts by walking off so she wouldn't have to look at me anymore. *

"Where'd you learn how to tie a reef knot?" Dylan asked as he handed me dinner. I stared at the bland looking stew with gentle memories of my father showing me all kinds of knots that could be done.

"My father taught me when I was really little how to tie several types of knots. Would you like me to show you some time?" I replied. Dylan nodded and slowly leaned in close to me.

"You were really close to him weren't you?" He asked. Dylan always knew what was wrong with me without me having to tell him.

"Yeah, he taught me everything I know. Sometimes I wonder if he would've accepted me for being...you know..."

"Gay?" Dylan questioned.

My sexuality was something I never even really thought about until after my father died. Was I gay? Was I bisexual? Was I just into whoever I was into? There were so many questions that I didn't have time to answer.

"I'd like to think so. Your dad seemed like he really loved you. I'd do anything to have a dad like that," Dylan replied. Dylan's story was the complete opposite of mine. I lived a posh privileged life in England and he lived in the American ghettos of Cleveland Ohio. We were from two completely different worlds with completely different world views. Maybe that's why I gravitated to him?

"I'd do anything to get him back," I sighed. Dylan instantly embraced me, letting go of the animosity in his heart for verbally and physically abusive father.

"He's still with you...in here," Dylan claimed, placing his hand right over my heart. I then felt Dylan kiss me passionately before breaking away for air. His alluring eyes captured my breath for mere moments, distracting me from the fact that I was now on my back with him on top of me.

"Dylan," I breathed in once his delicate hands rubbed down my chest. One, no maybe two weeks I went without him touching me in such a manner. I was secretly obsessed with Dylan touching me. He was always so careful not to overdo it or rush into things. He believed in taking his time and making sure I felt good. The only drawback of that, was that we were interrupted often.

I could hear the sound of several tired voices mentioning bamboo. I knew that meant Dylan would be busy creating a pipe system that ran deep into a large hole that we used for humans waste.

"Oscar, I swear I really want to continue this but..."

"It's okay, I understand. You're needed elsewhere," I assured him. I was happy that he was there for everyone, but sometimes I wished I had more time with him.

"Dylan, the bamboos here!" Patrick yelled from outside of the hut.