Shades Of Blue

13. Fallen Tree

*WARNING FOR ABUSE, HOMOPHOBIA, AND BIGOTRY. THIS CHAPTER MAY BE UPSETTING*

Benjie

October

Age 16

Slowly, the doorknob turned and the door was nudged ajar, swinging open on creaking hinges. When he stepped inside, there was an insidious grin on his face. "What are you running for?" he wondered as he switched off Benjie's stereo. The musical screaming was halted.

"Nothing," Benjie replied, his mouth drying out. In terrified realization, his sad eyes shot to his open sketchbook on the desk.

Catching the direction of his gaze, Mr. Archer noticed the book and snatched it up before Benjie could even reach out for it.

The terror churned inside of him, making him want to vomit as tears already filled his eyes.

Mr. Archer twisted his face as he beheld the unfinished drawing of Neel. Then he began to fan through the pages, prompting Benjie to whimper, "please, don't."

His sharp, blue-grey eyes shot from the pages to his son, filled to the brim with repulsion. "What the fuck is this?"

When Benjie blinked, tears rolled down his cheeks to hang idly from his jaw. There were drawings in that book that were never meant to be seen by anyone but him. It was like a journal, and now it had been cracked open to spew forth his secrets.

"What is this, Ben?" he demanded again.

Benjie hung his head in shame, weeping and wishing he could shrink away and hide somewhere.

"Little pervert," Mr. Archer spat, leafing through the pages with great scrutiny. "Where'd you see this stuff? Are you doing this?"

"No," Benjie sobbed as Mr. Archer smacked him in the head with the hardcover sketchbook. "No. I swear."

"Is that what you let your little friend do to you?" he gave Benjie's small frame a shove. "Answer me," he growled, shoving him much harder this time into the wall.

"No."

"This is disgusting," his father spat. "Maybe I should call Neel's parents."

"No!" Benjie insisted in alarm. "He doesn't know. I swear. Don't call them. He's my only friend--"

Mr. Archer snatched Benjie's hair again, ripping a chunk from his scalp before he shook the strands from his fingers. In the heat of the moment, he dropped the sketchbook and punched his son in the gut.

Benjie crumbled to the floor, holding his stomach as he let the punches rain down on him, shutting his eyes and waiting until it was over, doing his best not to whimper too loud.

Mr. Archer kicked Benjie in the ribs, then caught sight of his baseball bat resting against the wall. His father grabbed hold of the bat and shoved it into Benjie's face, pressing the tip of the bat into Benjie's cheek. "I knew you were fucked in the head, but this? Men don't fuck men. The ones who do face consequences. Do you have any idea what happened to guys like you where I grew up? You're lucky I don't drag you and your boyfriend from my fucking car."

Benjie balled his fists as his hands began to shake. Not another fit, not now.

"Oh. Are you gonna hit me, princess?"

His muscles constricted and his teeth began to chatter as his entire body fell into a shivering fit. He'd managed to hide this from his parents, at least until now.

His father furrowed his eyebrows and looked his son over. "What the fuck? What are you doing?"

The shivering only got worse.

"Stop," he commanded.

Benjie couldn't.

The baseball bat made a clunk as it hit the carpet at Mr. Archer's feet. Unsure of what this was, he backed off. At the door, he paused to study his son, watching as the fit seemed to ease one or two degrees. He sucked his teeth and shook his head. "What a waste," he said, closing the door behind him after he let himself out of the room.

The self-hatred swelled and strained, clawing at Benjie's insides like a mutated parasite. He couldn't be alone with someone he hated so much, so he picked up the chunky phone receiver and dialed a number in. When Neel answered, Benjie only said, "fallen tree," then hung up.

Benjie got there first. He'd ridden his bike as fast as he could after sneaking out of the house. The temperature was dropping, reminding him that he should have worn a sweater over his blue t-shirt.

It was dark, the moon absent under the thick clouds. Thoughts racing, Benjie paced from the downed tree's stump to its bare, outstretched limbs then back again. Over and over. Back and forth. 

Things were going to change at home. He didn't like change, but he supposed it was his own fault. All he had to do was not draw those things. Better yet, he should have just closed his sketchbook.

Stupid! he thought as he threw his fist into the fallen tree's jagged bark. He couldn't feel the pain, so he hit it again, then again. Blood smeared across the bark as he threw punch after punch with his right hand, his skin tearing around his knuckles.

When he felt Neel's hands fall onto his shoulders, Benjie spun around and nearly punched him in the face with a bloody fist. Neel was trying to speak to him, but Benjie couldn't make sense of it over the sound of his own thoughts.

"He knows," Benjie managed to sob.

"Who?" Neel asked, his tone level and calm. "What does he know?"

"He's gonna kill us," he said, emotions boiling over to the point where he couldn't control the flow of tears. "He's gonna kill you."

Neel shook his head, so sure of himself. He stared Benjie in the eye as he firmly held his shoulders. "No one's gonna kill me. Or you. He's not gonna hurt us."

The blood and bruises that Benjie was decorated with begged to differ. He shook his head, his body heaving with each sob and an ache still straining his gut and ribs. "You can't make this go away."

With determination, Neel put his hand on the nape of Benjie's neck, pressing their foreheads together to force Benjie to look at him. He traced Benjie's cut bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. "I know," he finally admitted. "But I won't let him hurt you. Not anymore."

This made Benjie chuckle through his tears. "What can you possibly do?"

Neel smirked. "Realistically, nothing. But I'll make you laugh after."

Benjie smiled, still crying, and nodded his head.

In the days that followed, Mr. Archer made it clear that Neel was no longer welcome in their home. He also told Benjie to stay away from Neel, a futile demand since Mr. Archer had no way of controlling that. After laying down these rules, Mr. Archer rarely spoke of it, keen to forget he had ever seen into Benjie's sketchbook. That didn't mean all was well. Mr. Archer had a whole new reason to resent his son.