Pirates Are People Too
by Nico Grey
Chapter 9
For the second time in a little more than a month, Jake Warren woke up in a hospital. At least he understood where he was this time, he congratulated himself.
It was a huge hospital. He was lying on a gurney with an IV in his arm. Electrodes attached to his chest were monitoring him. He could see movement in his peripheral vision on both sides.
After a few minutes, someone noticed that he was awake. A middle-aged nurse bustled over to check on him.
"How are you feeling, sweetie?" she inquired, as she examined electronic readouts and checked his IV drip. "Do you have any pain or discomfort?"
Jake checked himself carefully. "I don't think so," he decided. "Did we win?" He had to know.
"Oh, you're the young runner," the nurse realized. "Well, I'm not sure. All I know is that the EMT that dropped you off here said that you ran the race of your life. But I'll try to find someone with more information for you." She patted him gently on the arm before hurrying away. "I hope you did."
It took the nurse a few minutes to return. She had good news. The doctor had decided that Jake was doing well enough to be released from the ER. They were planning to find a room for him and to keep Jake at the hospital overnight for observation, just to be safe.
"I don't know how your team did, sweetie," the nurse informed him. "But that EMT told me that there were three other boys wearing the same uniform as yours gathered around you at the finish line while most of the runners were still out on the course. I hope that's a good sign."
Jake smiled contentedly. He realized that it was probably very good news. He'd have to wait to hear the official result from his coach or a teammate, but what he knew now was encouraging.
Jake was pretty sure that Josiah must have been one of the people with him at the finish line. He assumed that Sweeney was another. He wondered briefly whether Sweeney had been one of the runners to pass him, but he really couldn't remember.
Jake hoped that the third boy had been Ish. Ish had been running well lately. He was used to hills from the Ball Mountain cross country trails and from his previous life in Israel. Jake decided that it would really make his day to learn that Ish had been one of the top finishers in the race.
When Jake's parents brought him home Sunday afternoon, the first thing he noticed was Ish dribbling a basketball in his driveway. He wanted to dash over and see him, but he was still feeling tired and his parents were making plans to stuff him into his bed. They'd even threatened to restrain him, if necessary.
Jake had already heard the good news from his father. The Black Bears were state champions! Jake had been pretty sure he had seen Josiah cross the finish line well ahead of his rival — but that double-vision thing! His father was able to reassure him on that point. So rather than fight with his parents, Jake followed them obediently into the house.
He did cast a longing look in Ish's direction. Ish returned a tiny, resigned wave, then went back to his dribbling.
Bodies recover reasonably quickly at fifteen. Jake was able to attend school Monday morning. But his father insisted on driving him there.
Jake made his way to the cafeteria to join Josiah, Ian and Ish.
"You were amazing, Josiah."
Ian had apparently been at the race. Jake wondered how he could possibly have missed seeing him there.
Josiah accepted the compliment humbly.
"Jake was the amazing one. He ran the race of his life."
"He almost ran the last race of his life," Ish interjected bitterly. To Jake, he sounded frustrated and angry.
The conversation stopped when the three noticed Jake watching them. Ish picked up his backpack and stalked out of the cafeteria. Ian watched his departure with surprise, but Josiah just looked sad.
"Did I do something?" Jake wondered.
"Don't worry about it, Jake," Josiah reassured him, "Ish was really concerned about you. When he crossed the finish line and saw the EMTs working on you, he took it pretty hard." Josiah didn't elaborate, but Jake got the impression that there was a lot more to that story.
"How did he do?" Jake asked. "I heard at the hospital that we had four runners finish well."
"Didn't you check the paper?" Ian chided him. "Oh. I forgot. That remedial reading thing." He shook his head sadly.
"Fuck you, Ian!" Jake grinned.
Josiah jumped to his feet in a hurry. "Not here, Ian," he ordered.
"Things were a bit rushed leaving the house this morning," Jake explained. "I don't think my father had time to buy the paper."
Josiah nodded. "Ish was great. I think maybe he did so well because he was trying to keep you in sight," Josiah sighed. "He finished nineteenth. He was the third best freshman runner in the state!"
That news really lifted Jake's spirits. "How did the rest of the guys do?" he wondered.
"Well, you were eleventh. Sweeney finished twelfth. Davey Boyd ran a great race. He finished thirty-fourth.
"That was a really tough course," Josiah reflected. "But I think just about every one of us ran a personal best time. It was like the perfect storm! I think coach said it was the first cross country championship that Ball Mountain has ever won."
Ian sighed. "I really hate to admit it when I'm wrong, but I guess I was wrong about your uniforms. The tan shorts would still look incredible, but I guess that might have inspired some of the other teams to run harder. It all worked out in the end."
Ian feigned deep disappointment.
"Hey! I've got an idea!" he announced. "We can test out my theory this week. We'll run one night like we normally do, then the next night everyone runs without shorts! We'll find out if people run faster the second day!"
"Ian!" Josiah warned. "Too much enthusiasm."
"Unrealistic, too," Jake contributed. "I don't think any of us will be running again for a while."
"Oh, come on!" Ian pleaded. "Soccer season isn't over. And then you guys have to stay in shape to defend your title next year."
"He has a point," Josiah conceded. "But there'll be no running without shorts," he concluded firmly.
As it turned out, there was no training run that evening. Jake's parents decided that he needed at least a few days of rest. And no one had seen Ish again all day Monday. He wasn't anywhere in the cafeteria during the lunch period or on the bus home.
Jake was surprised and disappointed when Ish didn't meet him to catch their bus to school the following morning. Rather than walk to the bus stop alone, Jake decided that he would catch a later bus. He was really hoping that Ish was just running late that morning.
Instead, Mrs. Abraham emerged from Ish's home while Jake was waiting. Jake trotted up the street and caught her before her car left the driveway.
"Is Ish sick today?" he asked.
"Oh. No, Jake. He isn't ill," her expression was apologetic, and Jake thought he detected sorrow in her eyes. "Ish is just having a difficult time with some things. I hope he'll be ready to go to school with you tomorrow morning."
Josiah and Ian were waiting at their usual table in the cafeteria when Jake arrived at school. Josiah was disappointed, but didn't seem surprised that Ish wasn't joining them.
The cross country team's state championship was a one-day wonder, so conversation turned to the upcoming Halloween holiday.
"I thought I might go as a trans Lady Godiva," Ian exclaimed. "All I need is a long, blond wig and a horse."
Apparently, this idea wasn't new to Josiah. He just shook his head in resignation. But Jake was shocked.
"Wouldn't you get arrested?" he wondered. "And where would you find a horse?"
"Being naked in public isn't against the law in Vermont," Ian told him. "The horse could be a problem though."
"Maybe you could rent one from the Barnes Stables," Jake speculated.
"Oh. That's not the problem," Ian informed him smugly. "The horse might not be able to control its excitement when it sees this!"
He gestured downward. Josiah groaned.
"See!" Ian told them smugly, "Last night I couldn't get Josiah to leave it alone. I finally had to beat him off."
Jake was startled by the sound of Josiah's head bouncing off the table.
"So what are you doing on Halloween, Josiah?" Jake asked.
"Anything that doesn't involve one of Ian's twisted little fantasies," Josiah snorted. "Actually, I don't have any plans. I hope we'll be resting up for another soccer game on Saturday. . . if we can win tonight. So I'll probably just stay home and hand out candy to the little guys."
"I'll come and help you give out the candy," Ian offered.
Josiah shook his head in alarm.
"Why not?" Ian whined.
"Because I have no idea what you mean by 'give out the candy'," Josiah said. "And most of our trick-or-treaters are under ten."
"I could send Ish down your way," Jake offered. "He told me that he's planning to go trick-or-treating."
Ian snorted.
"Hey!" Jake cut him off, "Ish has only been in America for four years. I guess he still finds it pretty cool."
"And he could pass for eleven or twelve in a pinch," Ian snarked.
Jake wanted to say something. But that might risk offending Ian. And besides, he wasn't that far from the truth.
"So what about you, Jake?" Josiah wondered. "What are your plans?"
"I'm not going out," Jake told him. "I'll just stay home and help hand out candy, too. I was thinking about dressing up as a leprechaun." He cut Ian a sideways glance.
"Ooooh!" Ian squealed. Literally. "Are you planning to dye your hair red?"
"I don't know," Jake really hadn't thought it through. "Maybe."
"You should," Ian insisted. "You know what they say: Once you go red, you're awesome in bed."
Josiah started to protest.
"Or you could just borrow some of mine. I've got plenty!" Ian reached toward his belt buckle.
"I think we should be in home room!" Josiah announced. He didn't wait to see if Ian followed him.
Jake was pleased to find Ish already walking down Oak Street when he stepped out of his house Wednesday morning. Ish didn't comment when Jake joined him. He was pleasant enough, but his attitude was diffident.
"The soccer team won its first playoff game last night!" Jake thought it made a strong conversational gambit.
Ish nodded politely. "They should be happy."
"Did you go to the game?" Jake asked.
Ish shook his head.
"Oh," Jake was disappointed. "I wondered who scored for our team."
Ish shrugged and kept walking.
"Do you think they'll want to go running tonight?" Jake asked.
That got Ish's attention. "I don't know. But I don't think that you should run tonight, Jake."
That hurt Jake. He turned a questioning glance on Ish.
"It's too soon," Ish explained. He continued walking.
Jake withdrew into his own thoughts. He was old enough to know when he was ready to start running again. He was sure of it! He didn't need his Daniel-san telling him what to do.
They continued their walk to the bus stop, and their wait for the bus, in silence. Jake didn't understand what things Ish might be having a difficult time with, but he was trying to be friendly. He didn't know what else he could do to be helpful.
Jake could feel the irritation building inside him. He sat in silence with Ish for the bus ride to school. He stayed by his side as they entered the building. But once they were inside the building, and Jake's eyes locked onto three familiar-looking goons lurking in the school lobby, his face lit up and he prepared to launch like a heat-seeking missile.
Before he could do anything, Ish's arm wrapped securely around his shoulders and pulled him away from their tormentors. Jake was annoyed. As the calls of, "aren't they a lovely couple" and the old standby, "faggots", followed them through the lobby, Jake became irate.
"Why did you do that?" he demanded of Ish. "Those bastards have it coming!"
"And what were you going to do, Jake?" Ish demanded. "The sensible thing was to walk away."
"Well maybe I'm not sensible!" Jake snapped.
Ish stopped to ponder that for a moment. "No. Maybe you're not," he concluded sadly as he directed Jake away from the lobby.
At the entrance to the freshman wing, Ish released Jake and directed him firmly toward the cafeteria.
"Go see Josiah and Ian," he said. "They will tell you about their soccer match." Then he padded off toward his homeroom.
Jake was both self-righteously satisfied and deeply disappointed when Ish didn't join their usual table for lunch. By the time he boarded the bus to ride home from school, he was a mass of emotional contradictions. He found a seat and prepared himself for a lonely ride home.
Jake was surprised to sense a presence next to his shoulder. He looked up. Ish was looking down at him. It wasn't a demanding gaze, but expectant.
Jake took a moment to consider, then shifted over to the window seat. Ish sat down next to him.
The rode home in silence. Jake, because he didn't know what to say. He was conflicted over his desire to be Ish's friend, yet frustrated by the way Ish had been treating him. Ish, because he hadn't decided what to say.
When they got off the bus, Jake glanced around uncertainly. He and Ish had always found plenty to chatter about on their walks home. But now he wasn't sure what they could say.
Ish just wrapped his arm around Jake's shoulder and started them walking in the direction of home. Silently.
After a few moments, Jake was starting to feel awkward. None of the other kids were saying anything to them, but he was sure that the catcalls were coming. And he had no idea why. Did Ish's arm mean anything? Or was it just a way to make Jake go where Ish wanted him to go?
After another minute, Jake couldn't take it anymore. He stopped dead in the middle of Oak Street and resisted Ish's efforts to keep him moving.
Jake didn't say anything. He waited to be sure that he had Ish's attention.
"Why?" he finally demanded, once he was certain Ish wasn't going anywhere.
Ish just cocked an eyebrow at Jake.
"Why?" Jake repeated. "You haven't said anything to me all day, but your arm has been wrapped around my shoulder the entire time we've been together."
Ish sighed. "My brain and my body have different opinions," he explained.
Jake struggled to process that information, without much success.
"What does your heart say?" he wondered.
"It agrees with my body," Ish shrugged. "But I have always trusted my brain."
It was no explanation. But there really didn't seem to be much more to say, Jake decided. His thoughts turned inward.
Ish wrapped his arm around Jake's shoulder again. To Jake, it felt like he was squeezing a little harder this time. They continued their walk along Oak Street.
When they arrived in front of Jake's house, Ish released him.
"Goodbye, Jake," Ish offered a sad little smile.
Then he turned and started walking toward his home.
Jake really wasn't certain that he would see Ish Thursday morning. But Ish was walking up Oak Street again when Jake stepped outside. Ish strolled up alongside Jake and wrapped his arm around Jake's shoulder again. Without saying anything, he propelled Jake in the direction of their bus stop.
For a brief moment, Jake hoped that he wouldn't see his father returning home from work as they walked, but he decided that it really didn't matter. If his father confronted him later, he would figure out what to do. First, he had to figure out what was going on with Ish.
Ish was willing to engage in some brief conversation.
"Have you decided on your Halloween costume yet?" Jake asked.
"I have one," Ish said.
"What are you going as?" Jake was curious.
"I can't say," Ish replied.
Jake found that unusual. Most kids he knew were excited to talk about Halloween costumes.
"Is it something that makes you happy?" Jake hoped.
"That's the problem," Ish sighed. "I still haven't decided yet."
They rode to school in silence.
As soon as they left the bus, Jake was surprised to find Ish's arm wrapped around his shoulder again. He still didn't even understand what it meant. But he was quite sure that every kid in school would be certain that they knew.
He braced himself as they entered the school lobby. With relief, he noted that the ghastly trio were nowhere in sight. They attracted a few strange looks as Ish forced their way through the lobby, but no one said anything.
Jake was a little disappointed. He thought that he had come up with the perfect cover story, on short notice. "Head injury" and "I forgot my helmet" seemed like a very reasonable explanation.
Ish left him at the entrance to the freshman wing again. Again, he steered Jake firmly in the direction of the cafeteria.
Josiah and Ian seemed rather subdued. But as soon as he noticed Jake, Ian was bubbling with energy again.
"What can you tell us about the rumors we've heard?" he asked Jake.
Jake was confused.
"We've been hearing about a lovely young lad, an up-and-coming star of the running world, being escorted on the arm of a," Ian snickered, "short, skinny, long-haired, foreign hunk."
"Oh," Jake blushed. "Are people already talking about that?"
Josiah seemed interested. "What's going on, Jake?"
"I really have no idea," Jake confessed. "But for the past day or two, wherever we go, he doesn't say anything, but his arm is always around my shoulder. It's weird. I feel like the Fonz's latest squeeze, or something."
"He hasn't said anything?" Josiah asked.
"Only that his brain and his heart have different opinions, whatever that means."
"Oh," Josiah seemed concerned. "Well hang in there, Jake. I hope that his brain will come around eventually."
Jake spread his hands in confusion. "What are they even arguing about?"
Josiah's expression softened.
Jake wasn't surprised when he didn't see Ish at lunch again. He also wasn't surprised when Ish dropped into the seat beside him on the bus that afternoon. It was a little more surprising, certainly a change in routine, when Ish immediately wrapped his arm around Jake's shoulder.
Jake wished that Ish's brain and heart would settle their differences soon. Living next door to their conflict was starting to drive him crazy.
As they turned up Oak Street, Jake decided that he'd settle for crazy; certainly compared to what was waiting for them.
Three large, loutish bodies. Three dull but familiar faces. Three very unpleasant attitudes.
"Don't they look lovely together?" Donnie Hartnett asked his buddies. "I wonder if they've set a date yet."
One of Donnie's friends acted dutifully amused. The other just seemed confused.
"What do you idiots want?" Jake demanded sharply. He could feel Ish tense up next to him.
"We promised you girls that we had something for you," Hartnett said. "Now we're gonna deliver." He smacked his fist into the palm of his hand.
Jake felt a sharp jerk on his shoulder and was surprised to find himself suddenly standing behind Ish.
"Run!" Ish commanded.
Jake had no idea why he would run. His friend was there. Ish needed help. And besides, Hartnett and his friends were assholes.
The three bullies were advancing toward Ish, moving to surround him. Jake tried to remember what Mr. Gilchrist's friend had told them about how Nick had handled a similar situation.
With little thought, Jake focused on the bully circling around Ish's left side. He dropped his head, took a solid stance, then two powerful steps, and launched himself directly into the pit of the bully's stomach.
He was gratified to hear a gasp, a loud shuddering groan, something that sounded like a violent but wet explosion, and to feel the remains of the bully's lunch being deposited on his back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other two bullies turn toward him at the same time Ish erupted into action. Jake was confident that Ish could handle them for a few moments, so he decided to make sure of his man. He stomped sharply on an exposed knee and thought he felt something give. Before he could even turn around to help Ish, one of the bullies was on the ground shrieking in pain, and the other was pleading with Ish to ease up on the arm bar that had him immobilized.
When Ish realized that Jake's opponent wasn't going to cause them any more trouble, he released his foe, jumped to his feet, and backed Jake away from the bullies. When they were far enough away, and reasonably certain that the bullies had no desire at all to follow them, they turned back up Oak Street.
Jake was breathing heavily, but feeling ebullient about their victory until he noticed the pain in Ish's eyes.
"Did you get hurt?" he worried.
Ish considered the question for a moment. "No physical injuries," he explained. "But moments like this always cause some harm."
"They deserved it!" Jake insisted.
"Not them," Ish explained. "Not all pain is physical."
Jake was disappointed at the distance between them as they continued up Oak Street, side by side.
Ish seemed surprised when Jake started to turn onto the walkway at his home. He motioned for Jake to follow him.
"My jacket," Jake explained. "I think that guy even puked down inside it! It feels nasty!"
"It's okay," Ish said. "You can clean up at my home. I would like for us to talk. I think I am ready for that."
Curiosity won out over comfort with Jake. He decided that he could manage another three or four hundred feet with puke soaking through his jacket and shirt if it helped to resolve some of his questions.
When Jake had finished washing up in Ish's bathroom, and had hung his shirt and jacket over the shower curtain rod to dry, he found Ish seated at the computer in his bedroom. He motioned Jake over to join him.
Jake noticed a photograph on the computer screen, apparently part of a slide show. The image showed an exotic location, completely unfamiliar to Jake, yet somehow compelling.
"This is in Beit She'an, near my home in Israel," Ish explained. "This is where I grew up."
A series of slides followed, each presenting some scenery that Jake found exotic and somehow romantic. The locations looked nothing like his home in Vermont, but Jake felt he could understand why Vermont reminded Ish of Beit She'an. It wasn't an obvious similarity. It was something about the emotions that the locations evoked.
Eventually, the images became populated. Mostly with young children. Jake saw images of children as young as four or five, and some as old as ten or twelve, playing soccer in their village, hiking the surrounding hills and valleys, and frolicking in streams and under waterfalls.
Jake's eye was drawn immediately to a slight child with dark hair, his eyes always aglow with the excitement of games or adventure. His hair hadn't been long back then, but there was something about him that Jake found instantly recognizable.
Ish's smile revealed quiet satisfaction each time Jake reached out unconsciously to stroke the image of that child on the screen.
"When I was younger," he explained. "I have more from when I was a little older."
Several more images scrolled slowly across the screen in succession. There were a number of boys, mostly eight or ten, usually hiking or swimming together. The younger Ish's hair had grown a bit longer. Inevitably, whoever else was in the picture, there was a slightly older boy orbiting around Ish.
The final image showed young Ish, perhaps aged nine or ten, and the other boy. They were both beaming at each other, dressed for a day of adventure in the surrounding countryside.
"That was. . . is Yair," Ish explained. "He was my best friend. We did everything together."
Ish seemed lost in his own reflections for a minute.
"He was my Yehonatan. I was his Dawid."
Ish's voice sounded uneven. He took a long moment to gather himself.
"That was our last day together."
Jake was surprised when Ish suddenly sprang from the chair and bolted from the room. He continued to study the image of the two boys while he waited for Ish to return. He hadn't really understood what Ish's words were explaining to him, but he could see clearly in the image that these two boys had loved each other.
Jake heard the water stop running in the bathroom. He considered checking on Ish, but he was pretty certain that all his friend needed was some time.
When Ish returned to his bedroom, Jake made room for him in the chair. Some intuition told him that Ish would need more support for what was about to come next.
He wrapped his arm around Ish's shoulder. Ish smiled gratefully in return.
"We went adventuring that day. Scouting the Philistines, I think. We were out in the middle of nowhere, following the Harod Stream. We were planning to hike all the way to Ma'ayan Harod.
"There was a small attack that day. Rockets. Hezbollah."
Jake could already sense where the story was going. He was surprised that Ish spoke the name of Israel's deadly enemy with no anger; only sorrow.
"Yair had climbed to the top of a small ridge. . . to scout. He was the bravest of us." He smiled a broken smile. "The rocket may have been intended for our village. But it was well off course."
Jake could feel Ish's breathing becoming strained.
"I saw my Yehonatan struck down by a bolt from the sky!"
Jake had anticipated that the moment was coming. He pulled Ish into his chest and held him. Then he waited patiently until the ragged sobs subsided and Ish's breathing started to return to normal.
"No one knows, Jake. I spent four months in hospital," Ish blurted suddenly.
"Shrapnel?" Jake wondered. He was pretty sure that was the word.
Ish shook his head. "Not all pain is physical," he reminded Jake. He tapped the side of his head.
Jake didn't know what to say. He pulled Ish back to his chest and held him tight. Then he leaned down impulsively and kissed the side of Ish's head. It felt like the right thing to do. He rocked his friend tenderly.
Gradually, Jake felt Ish's emotions settling down. His breathing evened out. Jake couldn't feel his pulse racing any more. Ish stirred, suggesting that he was ready to be released.
"Is that why you moved to America?" Jake asked.
"That was the biggest reason," Ish agreed. "My mother wanted me somewhere safe, somewhere I could escape my pain. She was American. Born here. My father was already gone, lost on the border with the army during a Hezbollah raid." He shrugged resignedly. "There was really nothing left to keep us there. Except memories. And they hurt."
"My mother found a job in Connecticut. Working for a military contractor. We lived in New Haven."
Jake hoped that he was wrong, but he sensed that the Ish's emotional distress was about to return.
"It wasn't a great city. We lived in a worse neighborhood. There were gangs," Ish explained. "But I went to school. My mother was teaching me Krav Maga, to help keep me safe. I made a friend. I thought I was happy again."
"We were almost three years in New Haven," Ish continued. "My friend, Jalen, became everything to me. He wasn't my Yehonatan, but my feelings for him were similar. I have a few pictures."
Ish reached forward and opened another file on his computer. More images appeared on the screen.
"New Haven is no place for adventures, not really," Ish said, "But we still found ways to have fun. Until we got older. . . The gangs," he explained.
"We lived in The Ville. It wasn't the worst place, but the gangs were everywhere. And they were always looking for new blood," Ish sighed.
"It wasn't so bad for me. I was a stranger. The foreigner. They didn't really trust me, so they left me alone. But when we were about twelve, they wanted Jalen."
Ish brought an image up on the screen of a youth with cocoa-colored skin. It was difficult for Jake to determine whether he was black, Hispanic, some combination, or something else entirely. But he thought that he was an attractive kid.
"Jalen didn't want any part of the gang. Maybe that was my fault," Ish admitted. "I wanted us both to get out of The Ville, get out of that city, make a real life for ourselves someday.
"The gang didn't like that. They needed new blood. When they couldn't get Jalen the easy way, the decided to try the hard way.
"We stuck together. I thought I could protect him."
"What happened?" Jake asked. He couldn't imagine that Ish wasn't able to protect his friend. "You're like a superhero."
"I was twelve, Jake. And they surprised us. I didn't expect them. And I really didn't expect them to bring a knife."
Jake gasped. He knew that his eyes must have doubled in size.
"They got me. And while I was trying to figure out whether I was still alive, they got Jalen, too."
"What happened?" Jake found it hard to even ask.
"They cut up Jalen terribly when he tried to fight back. He ended up in the Emergency Room, then months in a place outside the city recovering. He and his family never came back.
"I wasn't injured that badly. A knife slash on my stomach. I thought it was a lot worse, at first," Ish admitted with an embarrassed smile.
"I healed pretty fast. But my mother couldn't. She started looking to get us far away from the cities. We had to stay in New Haven for some court dates, but my mother started looking for a new job right away. When she got an offer from Appleton-Price, we packed up and left New Haven. And when the company had another opening in Vermont the following year, my mother thought that sounded just perfect. And here we are." Ish smiled wanly.
"But you still miss it there," Jake suggested.
"Not New Haven," Ish snorted. "I miss what I had there. But not the place." He paused to reflect. "I do miss Beit She'an. But I've found something almost as nice here."
"A place is just a place, I think, Jake," Ish explained. "Some places linger in the mind. But it's people that really sink their roots into your heart. I miss them. It hurts to know that I'll probably never see Jalen again. And I don't know how I'll ever get over losing my Yehonatan."
Jake was ready to provide support, but it appeared that Ish had recovered from the worst of the spike in his emotions. Once he was certain that Ish was in control of himself, Jake's mind turned to more practical matters.
"How bad was your knife wound?" he wondered.
"Not too deep," Ish informed him. "But it was long. Close to five inches."
Jake whistled nervously. Just the idea of being slashed open like that gave him an uncomfortable shiver.
"You must heal well," he said. "I've never noticed it in the shower. . ." Jake almost choked. "I mean, not that I look or anything!"
Ish was amused. "All boys look, Jake. I could describe you in great detail," he offered. He had a gleam in his eye. "But maybe you were paying closer attention to something else."
Jake's eyes shot open. He shook his head vigorously.
"Maybe Josiah?" Ish suggested. He laughed.
Jake joined in the laughter awkwardly. "I wouldn't do that to Ian," he insisted. "I mean, I love Josiah. And I love Ian. I would never do anything to hurt either of them."
Jake thought Ish looked a little sad. "I respect that, Jake. I respect you. You're a very decent person."
Ish leaned back in the chair. He appeared deep in thought for a moment. He stood up, walked over to his bed, and peeled off his shirt before he lay down.
"Since you didn't look in the shower, decent person," Ish smirked, "You can look at my scar now, if you wish."
Jake wasn't sure how he should respond to the offer. But he was curious. Examining Ish closely, he noticed a narrow red line protruding above the top of his pants by more than an inch. Even after two years, it still looked angry. Jake winced.
He looked to Ish for permission, then gently touched the top of the scar. He traced the line slowly downward with his finger, trying not to imagine the pain and fear that had accompanied the injury.
As Jake's finger gingerly traced lower, Ish reached down and opened the front of his pants.
Jake continued to trace the line slowly, tenderly. He couldn't bear to think about what it must have looked like when the wound was fresh. The surface of the scar was still somewhat shiny and raised slightly above the surrounding skin.
"The doctors say I was very lucky," Ish said. "The knife only cut through skin and into muscle. It would have been a lot worse if it had penetrated the muscle."
Jake shivered. He had studied some anatomy. He tried never to think about it, but he understood what lay beneath the abdominal wall.
Jake continued to trace lower, brushing his finger tenderly from side to side as if that might help erase the scar. It felt like he had been following the trail for several minutes.
Jake was startled when the back of his hand came into contact with something firm and a little bit springy. His hand froze and his eyes shot open.
'Oh, yeah,' Jake realized, 'Ish doesn't have a warning track'. He had accidentally wandered into homerun territory.
Jake jerked his hand away like it had been scalded. "I'm sorry, Ish," he panicked. "I didn't realize I had gone that far."
"It's okay, Jake. Don't worry." Ish blushed. "Actually, it felt rather nice."
"But I touched your. . ." Jake couldn't finish.
"Don't worry," Ish repeated. "A lot of doctors and nurses saw it and touched it. The injury had to be photographed for evidence in court. I got used to it."
"Oh my god!" Jake could barely fathom that. "Everyone in court saw your. . ."
"I guess so," Ish admitted. "I wasn't allowed to stay in court after I testified. But the lawyer told me that the photo would be shown to everyone."
"The state's attorney said that?" Jake thought that Mr. Davis had been far more sensitive about dealing with him.
"No. It was the lawyer for the guys on trial. She probably thought it would scare me if I knew that everyone would see those pictures. Maybe she thought I wouldn't want to testify against the guys that attacked us."
"But you did?"
"I had to. You can't let bullies win." Ish stopped a moment to appreciate the irony. "It was a small price to pay for justice."
"Man!" Jake was amazed. "That must have been so weird talking to a lady lawyer and knowing that she had pictures of your junk." He whistled.
"Well, I'd rather it had been you," Ish eyed Jake intently. "But I really had no choice."
Jake considered Ish's words thoughtfully. He turned back to Ish's stomach and examined the rest of the scar with his eyes.
"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. That knife didn't miss, uh, you by more than millimeters!"
Ish laughed. "Another half an inch lower and I definitely would have had to find a new hobby."
Jake was shocked. But he giggled, too.
"That freaks me out, just to think about it!"
He stopped to contemplate the possibility while he continued to examine the scar. It frightened and angered him to realize how close his friend had come to losing his life. . .or something just as important.
Without thinking, Jake leaned in and kissed Ish's scar. When Ish didn't object, he continued kissing. He knew that it wasn't going to heal the scar. But it felt like he was healing something inside himself.
As his lips brushed lower along Ish's scar, Jake noticed something straining against the side of his face. Impulsively, he turned and kissed it, too.
When realization set in, Jake turned bright red.
"I'm sorry, Ish! I don't know why I did that! But just the thought of that knife. . ." Jake took a deep breath. "I'm really glad you still have your hobby!"
Ish was enjoying Jake's discomfiture. He chuckled softly.
"It's okay, Jake. I told you before, I liked it."
Jake breathed another sigh of relief. Then he got a roguish gleam in his eye. He decided to take a risk.
"Well, I liked it, too." He leaned back toward Ish and began to kiss gently up and down the length of him. His kisses were soft, tender. Barely enough to even notice Ish's flavor. But Jake was enjoying it.
Ish's penis wasn't very long. It was still fairly skinny. But it felt potent. And Jake thought that it looked absolutely perfect. He resumed his ministrations.
Ish appeared to be enjoying himself, too. His eyes were closed and he purred contentedly as he ran his fingers languorously through Jake's hair.
Jake focused his attention on the crown, brushing it with more soft kisses. Overcome by the sensations, he parted his lips and ran his tongue delicately around the corona.
"Oh!" Ish gasped, "Todah, Yoni. Todah rabah!!" he moaned. Then his fingers froze.
Jake glanced up. Ish was blushing deeply.
"I'm sorry, Jake. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that." He was struggling to regain his composure. "I meant, 'thank you, Jake'. I just got confused."
Ish appeared to be battling with some powerful emotions. "I think maybe we should stop," he decided. "My heart still has to convince my brain that this is right."
"What's wrong?" Jake asked. "Why does your brain think this is wrong?"
Ish looked pained. "It worries, Jake. It would be hard to bear another great loss in my life. They hurt too much." His eyes struggled to express what he was feeling.
"My heart tells me that this makes me happy," he kissed Jake. "But my head tells me to be careful. You take such risks with yourself, Jake. And I feel it! Every time! Just watching is so painful for me."
Jake was astounded. He had never considered the possibility. He was torn between defending himself and his right to live his life as he chose, and shame about the way he made Ish feel.
He wanted to apologize to Ish. He pleaded wordlessly for forgiveness. He tried to assure Ish that he understood he should have been more aware of his friend's feelings and the effect that his choices had on them.
He also asked a question with his eyes; or rather, he requested permission. He flicked his gaze briefly toward Ish's quivering erection, then back into Ish's eyes. Ish smiled indulgently. So Jake leaned back in for one more kiss.
He really wanted to do more. This need for a more intimate connection with another human being had been growing inside him for months. But he decided that it would be better to respect his friend's feelings and abide by the limits he set.
Jake hoped that he wasn't saying a permanent goodbye. He really did think that it looked very nice.
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