Some Say It's Better
By Nynaeve nyn-tkd@usa.net
Halloween Lyric Wheel story
To disclaim: I deny all ownership rights to any concepts or characters herein who originated with a television show or movie. However, if they come to my apartment and insist I have my way with them it would take a stronger woman than I...But no money changed hands...I swear.
WARNING: not a happy story. Richie and Virg are both seventeen-year-old boys. They express love for each other but there are no really physical expressions of that in this story. Please, if this sort of relationship squicks you, go away. Also, and this is the biggie, there are discussions of painful home situations. Physical abuse, molestation, mental abuse. None happens "onscreen."
Thanks to Rhi for the lyrics! Yeah, they work, eh?
The sulfur-yellow streetlight cast a circle of brightness on the ground. The edges grew hazier until they faded back into darkness. On the edge of that darkness Richie Ryan stood waiting.
He had been waiting for close to an hour now, but had no plans of leaving. He'd wait all night if he had to. He shivered and pulled his green and black leather jacket closer, tucking his hands under his arms, wishing he had gloves.
Halloween night was freezing this year. He felt sorry for those little trick-or-treaters passing by who had to wear their heavy jackets over their fancy costumes. He figured that it probably wasn't nearly as much fun, covering up that way. Not that he knew what if felt like for himself, having never gone trick-or-treating. He watched a tiny little pink bunny in a parka toddle by, clutching a man's hand with one paw and a plastic orange pumpkin head with some candy in it with the other.
Richie turned away from the sidewalk, facing the pumpkin patch that lay beyond the darkness. To be honest, he had forgotten it was Halloween completely until he reached this neighborhood. The horde of miniature Pikachus, dinosaurs, Jedi Knights and X-men who had swarmed by had given that away. He eyed the incongruous pumpkin garden that took up this part of the neighborhood. It was sort of funny to walk through this busy part of town with a gas station on one corner, a Blockbuster on the other and an agricultural area in a plot of land in the middle. In the winter they brought Christmas trees out here to sell and during the summer they lit fireworks on the dirt. It was the only open dirt area for blocks. An all around urban holiday hosting place. He and Virg came here a lot.
After a few more moments of staring blankly at the dark Richie realized that someone had come up behind him. He turned his head and felt a hand settle onto his elbow, confirming the presence. Virg was here.
Richie turned until he could face his friend. "Hey, glad you came."
"You knew I would. Of course."
"Yeah, but usually if you don't make it by ten you aren't coming until tomorrow."
Virg shrugged and looked down. Richie took this chance to study the boy carefully; doing his ritual "Virgil inspection" as they had half-heartedly joked one time, long ago. Virg was still way too skinny. He had lost a bunch of weight a year ago and still hadn't recovered, but at least he wasn't so pale now. His dark brown hair was combed and fell neatly over his forehead. He had had it cut since the last time they were able to meet and the hair in the back stood out looking bristly, but it was soft, Richie knew. Virg had on his black jeans and bright green "Seacouver Seals" sweatshirt. He had three favorite sweatshirts and rotated wearing them religiously. It was odd, but something to count on, something reliable. Finally, Virg looked up and Richie noticed his eyes. Dark, bruised-looking circles stood out on the smooth skin all around the blue eyes. Christ, Richie thought, Christ.
Virg was begging him with his eyes not to say anything. Richie reached out a hand, but aborted the gesture. He brushed his hand over his own curly hair instead, rubbing his neck and shaking his head. He looked around. No one was looking at them. There were still people streaming in and out of the apartment complexes that ran up and down this block, but they were all absorbed in their own celebrations. No one noticed the two teenagers by the street light; no one cared.
By unspoken agreement they slipped together further into the darkness. A fence ran across the mouth of the open lot stretching between the buildings that bordered it. It was a feeble attempt at security, merely a gesture. Richie and Virg took turns watching out for each other and scaling the chain link. It was an old ritual perfected by countless repetitions. One boosted and kept watch, one scrambled over, dropped to the earth, thread his hands trough the links to hold the structure steady and waited to help the other land without rattling the fence too much. Then they walked all the way to the back of the lot, against the brick wall where it was quietest. They hitched their shoulders against the wall and looked at each other in the small half-light leaking from the apartment windows overhead.
Finally Richie had to speak. "Virg, tell me those aren't from him hitting you. They don't look fresh, but we...actually you haven't been able to meet me for almost two weeks. Tell me that it hasn't come to that. Please."
Virg had dropped his eyes to the ground again at Richie's words and now he just shook his head sadly.
"No, Rich. You know he would never hit me that way. He's too goddamned holy to ever want to actively hurt someone."
"Fuck!" Richie's hand curled into a fist. "What about a year ago? Fuck!" He slammed his hand into the wall by their shoulders.
Virg flinched. "Rich--"
"No! You are NOT making excuses. You haven't slept at all, have you? In how long? Since the last time he touched you? This is why you wouldn't come see me before, isn't it? It's why your eyes look like they're about to jump out of your head and run to safety."
"Richie, please. Believe me, I hear you. I hate his rotting, stinking guts. Just as much as you do, if not more. But I've lived through this for my whole life now. He doesn't think he's doing wrong, Rich. He's trying to save me, if you can believe it."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot. Mr. Preacher Man loves us all in Jesus's name. That is just so much bullshit and you know it. The man is sick and I swear, one of these days he is going to pay."
Virg sighed and looked at Richie sadly. It was an old argument they had fallen into now. "And then will you go and make all of those foster families who hurt you pay too, Richie? What are you, the Batman of abused kids? How, exactly are you going to make them pay?" Virg's words were fierce, but that was belied by his weak voice and tired body. The wall was holding him up as if he really needed it now.
Richie groaned and rolled his other shoulder onto the wall so he was leaning against it with his back. He rubbed his face with his hands; leaving them there for a moment and then sliding them down to hug himself. "I know, I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I get your point too. I'd be no better than they would. You want me just to leave it alone and wait." He hitched a breath. "But every time he touches you that way, trying to make that kind of love dirty to you, to wreck what beauty is there. And every time he tells you exactly how awful a person you are I just...just..." His hands tightened into fists again, tightening along with his throat. Richie started blinking quickly.
Virg must have sensed how close Richie was to hitting the wall again because he reached out a hand and rested it on Richie's upper arm, offering comfort to the boy hurting on his behalf. "We've been over this so many times now."
"Remind me again why we can't call the police and haul his sick ass into prison."
"Because we're not eighteen yet. Because then I'd have to live in foster homes like you. Because they might send me far away. Because I see how much pain you go through. Because I'm not strong like you. I don't want to get beat up all the time."
"You're not strong? What the--?" Richie pulled Virg into a fierce hug. He whispered into Virg's hair, "You are the strongest person I know."
"No," Virg whispered back, "I'm not. I'm just too scared to find out what would be worse than the Devil I know."
Richie tightened his hug further for a few moments and then released Virg again, though his arms twitched with reluctance.
Virg looked into Richie's eyes. "There is also one thing that I get out of this that is better than what you get."
Richie just looked back at his best friend, not trusting himself to comment on what Virg got out of his homelife.
"Love, Richie. None of your foster families have ever given you that. He's my father whether we want him or not. He punishes me because he wants so badly to save me. To him I am the worst sinner in the world but he doesn't want to give up on me yet. He says prayers for me every night. That is love in his way."
Richie regarded his friend for a long sad moment, reflecting on loneliness and a need so great. Then he decided to try and lighten this a little. He really couldn't refute anything Virg had just said, after all. He had tried before. And he had never had any kind of love from a father. He let out a big snort. "Prayers, huh? Did he ever say a prayer for me?"
Virg had to laugh at that, even if it was bitter laughter. "God, Rich! You know how he feels about you. You are one of the main reasons his son is such a dirty sinner."
Richie was laughing too, now. "Yeah, but he's such a saint and look how miserable he is! Sinners have much more fun, that's all there is to it."
Their laugher died down quickly and Richie found himself unable to stop from asking his next question. "What set him off this time? He hasn't done this in so long. I thought he was either tiring out or giving up."
Virg turned his back quickly and took a few steps out into the pumpkin patch.
Richie was alarmed. "What? Tell me, Virg!"
"No. You'll just blame yourself again and I hate to see you like that."
"But we haven't even hardly seen each other lately, let alone do something that would..." Richie trailed off, realization starting to dawn.
"Yeah, you figured it out. This was from before. He found a picture of us. From a year ago, that Halloween party at the Teen Center..."
Richie gave a small start. "Oh...shit...Not that picture!"
Virg nodded miserably, turning to face his friend. "Yeah, that picture. He lit it on fire."
Richie debated pitching a fit, decided it wouldn't help. A small smile lifted his full lips. "Those were good times...before...relatively anyway."
Virg relaxed a little. "Yeah." He sighed and looked down, kicked a hairy green pumpkin vine. "Richie," he called softly.
Richie's face softened at Virg's tone. "Yeah," he husked.
"Tell me something happy."
Richie opened his arms. "Com'ere."
Richie gasped for breath, trying to finish his story. "And then...and then...he actually had the nerve to say...oh god...to say, 'Well, I like fries!'" Richie burst out laughing again.The two boys were on the ground, practically rolling, howling with laughter. They had tacitly agreed to put aside anything but cheering each other up. For the last hour they had been sharing increasingly wild stories, sometimes just making them up on the spot. Mostly they were hopeful crazy stories of what their lives would be like once they left Seacouver in the dust after Virg turned eighteen in five months. Richie would be eighteen in a mere six weeks. But then Richie had started telling stories illustrating the stupidity of his new foster father. They had agreed the man had the IQ of a muskrat and smelled almost that good.
Suddenly an angry voice called from above, "Hey, quiet down! Some of us have to work in the morning, ya know!"
The boys froze and then looked at each other and promptly started snorting in laughter again, this time clamping their hands over their mouths.
"We...we might be laughing a bit too loud," Richie gasped.
"Ya think?" Virg answered, pounding a fist on the ground in helpless mirth.
"Hey, that never hurt no one."
Virg finally caught his breath and looked at Richie in fond amusement. "ANYone. That never hurt anyone."
Richie rolled his eyes, "Yes, mom."
"Streetrat."
"Prissy boy."
They lay half-propped against the wall now, their legs stretched out in front, side-by-side. Their heads were rolled towards each other, eyes regarding each other's faces. Richie reached out a hand, running a finger along Virg's browline, dusting his bangs sideways. He sighed and dropped his hand.
"Virg, I want to bring up my plan again."
Virg froze. "Rich..."
"No, man, hear me out."
"I've heard you out. We have five months. Five months and then we can do anything we want. Anything! No running and no hiding. Hell, we've waited ten years and we're down to Five. More. Months!"
"But I found the perfect store for this. It's a little Antique store on the west side of town. There was no security and no alarms at all! I can do this! We'll make a nice little haul and be gone forever. Sayonara, assholes."
"Richie, you've never done such a big job before, I would know. Breaking into an Antique store is a hell of a lot different than shoplifting."
"Duh."
"There are all kinds of things wrong with this plan. It could be dangerous to you, for one. What if the owner is there? What if he doesn't have alarms because maybe instead he has a gun or something? You could die."
"Hey, I've heard that only the good die young." Richie grinned crookedly. "And we already know what a sinner I am."
Virg paused then and studied Richie. "Hey, why bring up the plan now again anyway? I thought we had finally just agreed to wait. Why now? Did something happen?"
"Nothing that hasn't happened before." Richie tried to play it off with a wave of his hand. "Besides with your old man acting up again I just don't want to risk waiting."
"They hit you again." Virg looked at Richie then, comprehension dawning.
"Yeah." Richie looked away. "The dumb schmuck found my stash from the last haul I put together. Demanded to know what I thought I could do in his house. I told him to go fuck himself and he...got mad of course."
"Ok."
"Ok, what?"
"Let's do it. Let's get the hell out of Dodge. Cowboy, take me away."
Richie whooped at the sky. "Yeah! You mean it?"
Virg nodded, calmly resolute in his decision. "You've put up with way more than you should've waiting for me. It just came to me what was important. We'll be ok; you'll make sure we're ok. What's the plan?"
"Just leave everything up to me. Count on me. Let me scope the place out and I'll take care of it. Can you meet me back here tomorrow?"
Virg looked almost happy now that he had made a decision. "I'll make sure I'm here. Why?" He smiled softly at Richie's obvious new joy.
Richie jumped up and started pacing in his excitement, "I need another day to put together the timeline and can let you know tomorrow when we can leave." He started ticking things off on his mental list, murmuring outloud. "We need a bit of time to hoard our stuff. I need to find transport to steal. An old motorcycle would be best, less obvious. I bet we can be gone by my birthday." He stopped and looked down at Virg, still sitting in the dirt at his feet. He laughed helplessly and reached down, hauling his friend to his feet, pulling him into a hug. Richie whispered into Virg's hair again. "Ten years. We've lived through hell together, you and me. I've loved you forever, now I get to take care of you the way you deserve. I'm gonna take you away from that bastard. I am, Virg, I am."
Virg clung to Richie, soaking up the affection. "I know that. I'm going to start packing tonight."
Richie stepped back again. "Be careful. You know how he gets when he thinks you're planning something. Please take care of yourself until we can leave. I don't want you to take any unnecessary risks."
"I'll be careful," Virg swore.
"Better!" Richie was almost cheerful now that he had his way. "Nine pm tomorrow here. I'll have it all planned out. You'll see!"
"You're the one, Richie. You'll be the one who saves me, I know that now." The boys smiled, reveling in their faith in each other. Virg's fingers curled as much as they could into Richie's leather jacket and then released him. "Now, go on. You leave first. I want to watch you walking away from me for the last time. Next time we'll leave together."
Richie grinned sappily at that and walked off through the leftover pumpkins. It would all be over soon, he just knew it.
"Richie!"
Richie half-turned. "Yeah?"
"Love you."
Yeah, it would be ok...soon.
November 1, 11:00 p.m.
Richie was waiting. Standing there at the edge of the streetlight for two hours now. He was facing the way Virg should be coming from, trying to get a head start on spotting the other boy.
He shifted his weight again, for the hundredth time. Virg always kept his word. He should be there by now. Sometimes, when he couldn't get away, he would come the next morning as soon as he could. Richie was used to waiting for an hour and then sleeping in the dirt lot until Virg came, usually at dawn. But not this time. This time was different. He would wait until Virg got there, even if it was all night. Virg knew how important this was.
He would be there.
Richie had been watching out for Virg since that day they had met at the teen center ten years ago. They were both escaping something. Richie had always done his best to make things as good as they could be for his friend and Virg had returned the favor. Together they worked as hard as they could to arrange their lives for each other. But, Richie knew, sooner or later it comes down to fate. He wanted to have as big a say as he could in that fate. This was the point of the plan.
Thoughts of what would happen to his friend if his father caught wind of the plan flitted through Richie's head. He tried in vain to push them away, but they took root, making his palms sweat.
At times taking care of Virg was so scary. Richie remembered so clearly how bad things had got a year ago when Virg had almost died after one of his father's "treatments." His father had caught them saying good-bye to each other at the teen center one afternoon and had seen more than the boys had ever wanted him too. The bastard didn't often get violent, but who knew what would happen once his temper took over? Surely nothing would ever get that bad again, Richie thought. Right? He was fixing things for them now, they would leave and he would never have to face such things again.
If only Virg would get there.
Somewhere nearby a siren blared.
This is the end, my friend.
"Only the Good Die Young"
By Billy Joel
Come out Virginia, don't let me wait
You Catholic girls start much too late
But sooner or later it comes down to fate
I might as well be the oneThey showed you a statue and told you to pray
They built you a temple and locked you away
But they never told you the price that you pay
For things that you might have doneOnly the good die young
You might have heard I run with a dangerous crowd
We ain't too pretty we ain't too proud
We might be laughing a bit too loud
But that never hurt no one
Come on Virginia, show me a sign
Send up a signal I'll throw you the line
That stained-glass curtain you're hiding behind
Never lets in the sunOnly the good die young
You got a nice white dress and a party on your confirmation
You got a brand new soul and a cross of gold
But Virginia they didn't give you quite enough information
You didn't count on me
When you were counting on your rosaryThey say there's a heaven for those who will wait
Some say it's better but I say it ain't
I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints
Sinners are much more fun
And only the good die youngYou say your mother told you all that I could give you was a reputation
She never cared for me
But did she ever say a prayer for me?background courtesy of Boogie Jack's Web Depot