Homeschool

I was dreaming about Chazz. He cupped my face in his big hands and rubbed the tip of his nose back and forth against mine.



"You've got to hang on," he said, gripping my jaw, and giving me a stern look, "I'm coming for you. Do you hear me?"



"I'm tired," I tried to say, "I haven't eaten or slept for two days."



"Tell me, MacElroy. Tell me you're not giving up." He gave me a firm shake. "Say it."



"Alright," I said, "I won't give up."



"Good. Because if I get there and you're already dead … so help me …"



"I won't," I promised, "I swear."



"Okay. Oh, also, don't lose sight of the Verticoli."



"Why?" I asked, awestruck, "Does it have magical powers?"



"The Inuit believe that whale bone has protective properties that can be passed between two people who care for each other."



"Really?"



"How the hell should I know? Do I look like I live in a grass hut? I'll just be pissed if you lose my brush. Ooohh!" he sang, wiggling his fingers dramatically, "Behold the magic powers of the Verticoli! Able to untangle … tangles in … tangly hair! Hold it close to your heart, Bro."



He winked at me and began to disappear.



"Wait!" I cried, "I can't tell if you're joking or not."



"Mind-bottling, isn't it?"



"Chazz!" I yelled, but he was gone.



I searched the darkness around me and eventually, the eerie bluish-white glow of the brush appeared off to my right. I had kicked it aside earlier, so as to not piss all over it and I inched my way towards it, careful to not bump into any unseen things in the darkness.



When I got close enough, I pressed it between the blades of both my skates, then, supported by the harness, I lifted them up and under my butt. I leaned back as far as I could, and tried to grab it. My fingers were numb from being tied for so long, but after a couple of failed attempts, I managed to grab the handle and pull it free from my skates. I then crammed it between my butt and the nylon straps, for safe-keeping.



~*~*



Someone was touching my hair. I sighed. Gentle fingers combing through my curls, twisting around a ringlet at my temple, then SNIP!



I jerked awake in time to see a lock of blond hair fall into Hector's hand.



"A little something to remember you by," he said, holding the hair up to his face and taking a big sniff. "Oh God, Jimmy, you smell just like heaven."



I smelled like a lot of things, fear, exhaustion, and urine topping the list, but I was pretty sure 'heaven' wasn't among them.



"You know," he smiled, fingers back in my hair, "I think you'll always be my favorite, even after you're gone." He put his other hand on my chest, feeling, no doubt, my erratic heartbeat pounding there. "So beautiful. God, I think about you all the time." He pressed his face to my head an inhaled deeply. "Can I tell you a secret?"



I opened my mouth, but wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't really asking my permission.



"You make me want to sin. I like to think that I have a good relationship with God, but when I'm with you, I want to throw it all away." His lips brushed my ear and I shivered. "You can feel it, too. I can tell."



"Wh-what does God want you to do?"



"I'm not supposed to say it out loud, but I can whisper it to you." He leaned in even closer, both hands cupped my ear, "I'm going to kill you."



I wish I could say that I was surprised, but I had already come to that conclusion. My only question was why? "I thought you liked me."



"I don't," he said, then surprised me by gripping me tightly and pressing his face further into my hair. His breath became labored, and he began to tremble, and for one crazy moment I thought he was going to add to my now-crusty semen collection, but then I realized that he wasn't turned on, but that he was crying.



"I don't like you," he reiterated between sobs, "I love you. I love you Jimmy."



Wow. Talk about awkward.



"It's okay Hector, I um … I like you too."



"No!" he cried, "you don't understand! I have a job to do here. I don't want to do it, but I have to."



"Why?"



"Don't you see? To save you, Jimmy. To save you from hell."



"I don't understand."



He stepped back and patted my face affectionately.



"You're sinning. You and the fornicator. I have to kill you before he condemns you to hell."



"What? Who?"



"Well, Chazz, of course, silly."



"Because he … skates with me?"



"Don't be coy," said Hector, anger creeping across his features, "I've seen what the two of you are doing. Kissing and touching and … other things."



Noticing my open-mouthed stare, he added, "I watch you. If you don't want the world to know that you're a sodomite, you should really close your curtains. Hey," he asked brightly, "do you know the best part of all of this?"



I shook my head no.



"Jesus loves you! All you have to do is repent before I kill you and all will be forgiven. Isn't that great?"



I shook my head no.



"And hopefully Chazz will repent before I kill him, too."



"NO!"



"That way," he continued, "you two can be together in heaven. Well, not THAT way, of course, but, you know, platonically."



"You leave him the hell alone," I spat, panic wrapping itself around me and constricting my chest.



"It's God's will. 'If there is a man who lies with a male as those who lie with a woman, both of them have committed a detestable act; they shall surely be put to death.'"



"Please, Hector, kill only me. Leave Chazz alone." Suddenly, there didn't seem to be enough oxygen in the room. Oh God, I had to get to Chazz and warn him!



Hector slowly knelt in front of me. "Let's get these skates off, it's time to get ready." He placed a hand over my laces, and I jerked my foot away. He grabbed it more firmly and pulled it towards himself.



"Don't fight me, Jimmy."



"I'm not," I said, gasping for air, and pulling my foot away again. "I mean, I am, but I have this … thing … about my skates."



"I don't have time for your 'things' right now. I have a job to do, and I'm not going to let you distract me from it." He grasped my skate and I cried out again, fighting to get away.



"Fine," he said, reaching into his pocket, "I had hoped to not have to use this. I would have thought that you'd learned to trust me by now."



Oh crap, the needle! I had to get out of here. I had to warn Chazz and Coach. Hector said something else, but my pulse was pounding in my ears, and I was struggling just to breathe. He was going to kill me. He was going to kill Chazz. And he was TOUCHING MY FUCKING SKATES!



Hector pulled the hypodermic from his pocket and uncapped it with his teeth.



"Repent," he said around the little clear cap. "And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved."



"No!" I gave a mighty jerk and felt something dislodge from underneath me. It fell to the ice and clattered away. The Verticoli! Hector turned his head to watch it, and I saw my chance. It was one of those moments, when time seems to slow down and the world shrinks down to one small point of focus.



I pulled my foot back and kicked him as hard as I could.



In the neck.



Holy crap! If I had thought punching someone in the throat was effective, I wasn't prepared for what a skate could do!. The force of the kick shoved him backwards, and he fell, knocking his head on the ice. The syringe fell out of his hand and skidded a few feet away from us. Hector was flailing and sputtering, trying to draw air into his collapsed windpipe, his feet kicking and pounding fruitlessly against the ice.



There was blood, of course, but not a lot, because I had hit him straight on with the blade of my skate, not sliced right through his neck. Yuck! That would have been messy.



I tipped myself all the way forward and dug one skate-pick into the ice, grinding it to make the groove nice and deep. Then, with all the force I could muster, I flung my shoulders back and swung my legs up and into the air. I wrapped my foot around one of the long tether straps and used the other one to slice at it with my skate blade.



Hector had graduated from wheezing to gasping. He was starting to recover. Crap. I had better hurry, because he was going to be pissed! Three more passes with the blade of my skate. Then four. The nylon was finally starting to fray. Five cuts. Then six.



My vision was starting to waver. Upside down was not the best position for someone with a head injury. Seven cuts. Eight.



Coughing. Hector was coughing now, which meant that he was getting air. Nine cuts. Ten. Ohforfuckssake! "Cumon!" Eleven, then it finally gave way and ripped through. The harness tipped wildly to the side, and I fell, in a head-first sideways spin, landing on the hard ice with one shoulder and hip, but I was free! Well, from the harness. I rolled into a sitting position, with one foot bend behind me, and then began to work my hand restraints against the other blade.



No easy feat, when you can't even see what you're doing. Hector was now up on one elbow, looking around with wild eyes. He was still hacking and coughing, but not as much. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth against the blade of my skate. I could feel them begin to loosen, and I doubled my efforts.



Hector was moving. Shit! The needle! We both stared at it, lying on the ice between us. Back and forth, back and forth. Shiiiiiitt! Hector began crawling, crab-like towards it, one hand still clasped to his throat.



My bonds finally broke and I threw my body forward, arms outstretched, but fell short of the needle. We both scrambled over the slippery ice, feet kicking and hands grabbing. Hector's fingers closed over it first, my hand a sloppy second, grabbing his fist.



We struggled in a bizarre tug of war, pulling and pushing against each other, rolling around, vying for control over that little needle. Hector was stockier than me and also had the benefit of food and sleep over the past couple of days. I was also at a disadvantage because of my hands. They were swollen and numb from being tied up for so long. Gripping with them was agony, as they were all pins and needles from the returning circulation.



Hector rolled on top of me and used his weight to force my arms down. The syringe hovered chillingly close to my neck. I dug my skates in and tried to buck him off, but he was too heavy and I was too tired.



His face was pressed almost into mine, his lips pulled back into a horrible snarl as he forced my arms down, the sharp point of the needle grazing the tender skin of my throat.



"Get off!" I cried, pushing with all my might.



"Give it up, Jimmy. It's in God's hands now."





We both shook with the effort of our struggle. "Repent," he spat, shoving forward. The back of my head smacked the ice, and the syringe plunged into my neck. My arms flew out and brushed against something hard. The Verticoli!



I grabbed it and brought it up against Hector's head, cracking his skull. He fell back, leaving the needle protruding from my throat. I yanked it out and jabbed it into Hector's thigh, pressing down on the plunger.



"Take that, you fucker," I said, clambering away from him. He moaned softly, then fell silent.



I had to get out of here before he woke up. I had to warn Chazz.



I tried to stand, but my legs were rubber and I couldn't get my skates under me. I settled for pushing myself while sitting, sliding across the ice on my butt, the Verticoli gripped tightly in my bloated fingers. God, I was so tired.



I had to warn Chazz.



Maybe, if I just rested here for a moment, I would get my strength back. Yeah. Just until I didn't feel so weak. I carefully lay back, the ice a welcome reprieve to my throbbing head.



I had to warn Chazz …



Chazz



"I've got you, Jimbo." He gathered me in his arms and lifted me up.



"Chazz! H-hector …"



"Shhh. I've got you now."



He did.



I sighed and let the darkness overtake me.