Power in the Blood - Pt. 2
Don tensed to strike, but was stopped by an adult voice.
“Problem boys?” Sister Fran, the youngest nun and one that most boys at Andrews spent a good deal of time fantasizing about, asked already knowing the answer. She had only been teaching here or anywhere for that matter for eighteen months though and still held hope for them.
“No ma’am.” Came the answer in chorus.
“I’m afraid that I don’t believe you.” She pointed her slim, pale finger at Don. “I saw what you did, Donald. Perhaps you think you’re immune because of your status on our football team. I can assure you that that’s not the case. You will both report to Coach Feaney at days end and he will extract an apology.” Her look said that she would brook no disagreement.
Reggie screamed inside his head. This will only make it worse! Don’t do this to me! But he only nodded, taking in the set of Don’s jaw and anticipating a visit to the hospital.
She stepped up to Reggie. “And as for you Reginald, you are a fine boy. You don’t have to take this from the likes of him.” She produced a plain white cotton handkerchief from her skirt pocket and handed it over.
He inhaled before he blew and caught a whiff of something that wasn’t quite perfume. He felt hungry, aroused, and confused all at once. Sufficiently cleaned he nodded thanks and tucked the cloth in his back pocket.
“Now, I’ll be watching you both for the rest of break time. Don’t make it worse on yourselves.” She straightened her already immaculate smock and turned. Both boys watched her walk off.
Don turned first. “You’re a fuckin’ lucky twist. After we deal with the coach I’ll deal with you. And come graduation I’m dealin’ with her.” A short punch to Reggie’s stomach signaled the end of their conversation.
Reggie managed to keep his breakfast down and when he regained his breath he finished classes for the day. The whole was filled with gut churning dread. The Sister’s words echoed over and over in his head and she was right. He should have stood up to the bullies years ago, but entropy was a powerful force. He tried to placate himself with fantasies of what he might do should he gather the guts to overcome it, but neither that nor the weird fragrance from Fran’s handkerchief helped.
-------------------
Afternoon arrived and per his nature Reggie was there on the dot. Don had come early and the coach, a man in his fifties built like a fireplug and the only non-clergy teaching staff, stood in front of them. His “office” was the gym and at present it was dominated by the boxing ring.
He ran his nicotine stained fingers through thick, white hair. “Boys, it has come to my intention that there’s a problem between you two. We’re gonna solve that problem right here and right now.” He looked at Don. “Sister Fran wants you to leave this boy alone and wants you off the team if you don’t. Neither of us want that.” He slapped the athlete on his thick chest hard enough for both boys to wince.
His gaze shifted to Reggie. Water pale eyes bored into him. “She tells me that you won’t stand up for yourself. Inexcusable. We’ll settle this the old fashioned way. You’re gonna beat the crap out of each other and then after that there’ll be no more.”
Back to Don. “You so much as lay a finger on him after today and I’ll bury you under the field myself. Now dress out and glove up.” He pointed to two pair of boxing gloves on his desk. The boys knew better than to argue.
A few minutes passed and they were squared of in the boxing ring. They had both been taught the basics, as had every male at Andrews. Reggie took a defensive posture, waiting for the blows. They didn’t come.
“Come on, you big pussy. I’ll give you one freebie. After that I’ll give you a pounding like your daddy used to.” Don stood with his red gloved hands at his sides.
Coach called from outside the ring, voice echoing in the expanse. “Go ahead boy. Take it.”
Reggie brought his hand back for a big haymaker. He focused every ounce of his rage, hatred, and fear behind it. It split the air and missed Don by a quarter inch, spinning Reggie around and causing him to fall.
Don nearly doubled over from laughter. He toed Reggie. “Get up ya fag. My turn.”
A second later and Reggie had latched on to Don’s leg. Don thought he was going to beg until he felt a sharp pain in his calf. Reggie had bitten him.
Hot, blood squirted down Reggie’s throat along with the chunk of meat. He had just intended to throw Don off his feet, but the bite came without a thought. Don fell all right and fell screaming. Reggie climbed on top of him and began to beat him. With every blow that fell Reggie felt stronger. It didn’t go on for long before Coach pulled him off. He was certain that he was being shaken, but all he could feel was the satisfying joy of hitting and the warm stickiness on his face.
----------------------------
The week finished out and Reggie was surprised that he was still enrolled. Apparently the coach had bought some trouble for trying to settle things in the ring. Don after getting out of the hospital hadn’t came back to school. As good as he was on the field no one really liked him and he wasn’t missed. Reggie had been exonerated and everything was nearly back to normal. Almost.
People began to give Reggie some space. No one picked on him, though he did hear whispers of “Freak” and “Lechter” behind his back. If it bought him peace then he could live with that. Hadn’t he lived with worse? There was just one thing that disturbed him a little. The memory of Don’s blood warmed him. He buried those unpleasant thoughts under a ton of work as the semester passed.
Under just such a burden in the library and steadily trying to dig his way out, he was interrupted by Lisa Taylor. A fellow bookworm, he had noticed her only peripherally. She was pretty enough with her milky skin and curly red hair, but in a way that was disguised by glasses, braces, and gawkiness all of which would pass to reveal a real beauty one day.
“Hey Reggie,” she chirped. She sat her stack of books down near him.
“Oh, hey Lisa.” He looked up from his work. “’Sup?”
She smiled warmly. “I just wanted to thank you for something. This is going to sound awful and if you tell anyone I’ll deny it.” She came around the desk and crouched by him, her hand on his knee. “I think what you did to Don was great. He’s been making me miserable for years and I’m glad he’s gone.”
Part Three...
“Problem boys?” Sister Fran, the youngest nun and one that most boys at Andrews spent a good deal of time fantasizing about, asked already knowing the answer. She had only been teaching here or anywhere for that matter for eighteen months though and still held hope for them.
“No ma’am.” Came the answer in chorus.
“I’m afraid that I don’t believe you.” She pointed her slim, pale finger at Don. “I saw what you did, Donald. Perhaps you think you’re immune because of your status on our football team. I can assure you that that’s not the case. You will both report to Coach Feaney at days end and he will extract an apology.” Her look said that she would brook no disagreement.
Reggie screamed inside his head. This will only make it worse! Don’t do this to me! But he only nodded, taking in the set of Don’s jaw and anticipating a visit to the hospital.
She stepped up to Reggie. “And as for you Reginald, you are a fine boy. You don’t have to take this from the likes of him.” She produced a plain white cotton handkerchief from her skirt pocket and handed it over.
He inhaled before he blew and caught a whiff of something that wasn’t quite perfume. He felt hungry, aroused, and confused all at once. Sufficiently cleaned he nodded thanks and tucked the cloth in his back pocket.
“Now, I’ll be watching you both for the rest of break time. Don’t make it worse on yourselves.” She straightened her already immaculate smock and turned. Both boys watched her walk off.
Don turned first. “You’re a fuckin’ lucky twist. After we deal with the coach I’ll deal with you. And come graduation I’m dealin’ with her.” A short punch to Reggie’s stomach signaled the end of their conversation.
Reggie managed to keep his breakfast down and when he regained his breath he finished classes for the day. The whole was filled with gut churning dread. The Sister’s words echoed over and over in his head and she was right. He should have stood up to the bullies years ago, but entropy was a powerful force. He tried to placate himself with fantasies of what he might do should he gather the guts to overcome it, but neither that nor the weird fragrance from Fran’s handkerchief helped.
-------------------
Afternoon arrived and per his nature Reggie was there on the dot. Don had come early and the coach, a man in his fifties built like a fireplug and the only non-clergy teaching staff, stood in front of them. His “office” was the gym and at present it was dominated by the boxing ring.
He ran his nicotine stained fingers through thick, white hair. “Boys, it has come to my intention that there’s a problem between you two. We’re gonna solve that problem right here and right now.” He looked at Don. “Sister Fran wants you to leave this boy alone and wants you off the team if you don’t. Neither of us want that.” He slapped the athlete on his thick chest hard enough for both boys to wince.
His gaze shifted to Reggie. Water pale eyes bored into him. “She tells me that you won’t stand up for yourself. Inexcusable. We’ll settle this the old fashioned way. You’re gonna beat the crap out of each other and then after that there’ll be no more.”
Back to Don. “You so much as lay a finger on him after today and I’ll bury you under the field myself. Now dress out and glove up.” He pointed to two pair of boxing gloves on his desk. The boys knew better than to argue.
A few minutes passed and they were squared of in the boxing ring. They had both been taught the basics, as had every male at Andrews. Reggie took a defensive posture, waiting for the blows. They didn’t come.
“Come on, you big pussy. I’ll give you one freebie. After that I’ll give you a pounding like your daddy used to.” Don stood with his red gloved hands at his sides.
Coach called from outside the ring, voice echoing in the expanse. “Go ahead boy. Take it.”
Reggie brought his hand back for a big haymaker. He focused every ounce of his rage, hatred, and fear behind it. It split the air and missed Don by a quarter inch, spinning Reggie around and causing him to fall.
Don nearly doubled over from laughter. He toed Reggie. “Get up ya fag. My turn.”
A second later and Reggie had latched on to Don’s leg. Don thought he was going to beg until he felt a sharp pain in his calf. Reggie had bitten him.
Hot, blood squirted down Reggie’s throat along with the chunk of meat. He had just intended to throw Don off his feet, but the bite came without a thought. Don fell all right and fell screaming. Reggie climbed on top of him and began to beat him. With every blow that fell Reggie felt stronger. It didn’t go on for long before Coach pulled him off. He was certain that he was being shaken, but all he could feel was the satisfying joy of hitting and the warm stickiness on his face.
----------------------------
The week finished out and Reggie was surprised that he was still enrolled. Apparently the coach had bought some trouble for trying to settle things in the ring. Don after getting out of the hospital hadn’t came back to school. As good as he was on the field no one really liked him and he wasn’t missed. Reggie had been exonerated and everything was nearly back to normal. Almost.
People began to give Reggie some space. No one picked on him, though he did hear whispers of “Freak” and “Lechter” behind his back. If it bought him peace then he could live with that. Hadn’t he lived with worse? There was just one thing that disturbed him a little. The memory of Don’s blood warmed him. He buried those unpleasant thoughts under a ton of work as the semester passed.
Under just such a burden in the library and steadily trying to dig his way out, he was interrupted by Lisa Taylor. A fellow bookworm, he had noticed her only peripherally. She was pretty enough with her milky skin and curly red hair, but in a way that was disguised by glasses, braces, and gawkiness all of which would pass to reveal a real beauty one day.
“Hey Reggie,” she chirped. She sat her stack of books down near him.
“Oh, hey Lisa.” He looked up from his work. “’Sup?”
She smiled warmly. “I just wanted to thank you for something. This is going to sound awful and if you tell anyone I’ll deny it.” She came around the desk and crouched by him, her hand on his knee. “I think what you did to Don was great. He’s been making me miserable for years and I’m glad he’s gone.”
Part Three...
© 2004 by Scott Roche
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