These Dreams

By Dabeagle

Chapter 1

I sat down tiredly in my chair, setting my case down as I did so and trying to shake some of the shock off myself. Just that morning I was gainfully employed and making plans for my first vacation in more than a year. Billy, Josh, and I were going to take a massive roadtrip west, out to see Chicago, the Mississippi, and a swing through St. Louis before looping south until we reached Atlanta. At that point we would decide if we wanted to stop in on Savannah before catching 95 home, but that was all shot to hell now.

"They said they can't afford me," I said listlessly, and I began to recount the story I had been given.

"Dave, can I see you after End Of Day is set?" asked Matt, the owner.

"Yeah, sure, just give me a few minutes," I replied from my terminal as I finished the day's billing and went into the small closet where our line printer hid from the world. It was a massive beast that could pump out about five hundred words a minute, clattering away like a Sherman tank. Impact printers are noisy by nature, thus its confinement to the closet where we could close the door on it. I changed the paper in it from the greenbar computer printout to the forms we used for invoices and then ran the day's billing through, and the backorder slips before setting the EOD program to run.

As I stepped out of the confined space, Matt was waiting and I walked to him hesitantly, as I always get nervous when dealing with the boss.

"Dave, how flexible can you be?" he asked without preamble.

"I don't think I understand the question."

"For work, how flexible can you be?"

"Well, I already come in some Saturdays, stay late sometimes, why?"

"The company isn't doing well, you know that of course, but I am forced to look at cutting costs again," he looked at me levelly, "I'm afraid we can't afford to keep you."

I looked at him in shock and grew extremely uncomfortable standing in front of him while he reclined in a chair. I wonder if it's easy to fire someone, to just yank the rug out from under them? I was just approaching my year where I qualified for vacation time, plus I had just signed the paperwork for the truck this past week, with the man who was now telling me I was out of work.

"I see," was all I could manage.

"Look, what I want to do if you can be flexible is to try and keep you whole, have you work on a consulting basis under the table a few hours, just enough to make ends meet. You know, the difference between what unemployment pays and what you were making," he explained calmly.

Were making.

"What about insurance? I have a son, I…I can't afford to make the truck payments," I finished, finally sitting down and feeling cold and shaken inside, involuntarily my body shuddered.

"Let me know, we can work something out if you're interested, call me Monday."

I felt numb as I walked to the truck, my next to last check in hand, and shut the door. I sat in silence as the thought sank into my head and the fear took root. I have no job, and I have a son to support. Billy and I were admittedly under more stress at home with Joshua around than we were before, which was natural, I guess, but this was going to throw gas on the fire. His job had been very stressful lately and he had been talking about looking for another place to work, and now we would need his income more than ever.

I started the truck and turned it around in the lot, pointing it to South Pearl Street and the highway. The more I thought about the situation, the more my blood began to boil. Just a few months ago they had hired another guy, part time, and he was going to end up doing my job, I was sure, except for the computer end of it. I had been there longer and was still getting axed!

I turned the truck onto the ramp for 787 North and headed for home, all the while alternating between anger and a hollow feeling of helplessness. The truck trundled north until I was ensnarled in a knot of traffic. I turned the volume down on the radio as the noise was grating on me at the moment and steered quietly, and somewhat absent-mindedly.

I abruptly turned from the highway and entered the city of Rensselaer, the highway dumping me on routes 9 and 20. I proceeded to my father's place of business, he a dispatcher for a local petroleum company. Plus he had the experience of being an out of work father a time or two. I pulled into the parking lot, past the gargantuan petroleum tanks, and parked next to the tankers that dwarfed my truck.

I took the stairs slowly and entered the terminal, the slap of my shoes on the concrete sounding surreal. I pushed open the door to the inner office and found my father seated at a terminal.

"Hi," he greeted me while turning away from the monitor, "this is a surprise. What brings you here?"

"I lost my job," I blurted without preamble.

"What?" my dad asked as his eyebrows arched, "Why the hell would they do that?"

"He says he can't afford me, that he wants to work out a deal so that he can give me some cash under the table and call it even."

"So you work like nothing happened, he gives you money and unemployment gives you money, the asshole gets your work and pays half price for it then?"

"Yeah," I said bitterly, "Not only that, he hired a buddy of his a few months ago, you can bet his ass still has a job."

"What an asshole. Well," my father sighed, "not the best time to be out of work, but you'll be on your feet quick. You going to unemployment Monday?"

"Yeah, I guess I have to, plus I need to see about health coverage for Joshua," I said with a sigh.

My parents had taken the news of Joshua rather well, especially if one stops to consider that they don't really like kids all that well. As for me, well, I loved him to pieces even after I was sure my ex-wife's kids had burned all my compassion for the next generation right out of me. Mom was the first to get emotional, wanting to see him and then, of course, prove that she could still bore a child to death clothes shopping.

My father was a bit slower to be enthusiastic, until the boy showed an interest in model trains. My father always wanted a train layout, and now he had the perfect opportunity, and assistant, to make it happen.

He had become a part of their lives without so much as hiccup, really, which was the more amazing thing. As a child there was a tension in the air that I grew so accustomed to that it became part of daily life, until I stopped noticing it. That tension came form my father being gay and my mother living with it for me. Mom had always tried to make me the focus of her life, especially while growing up, and it helped and hindered because I liked the attention but I also needed to know what the deal really was, and that hurt. In the end she did the best she could and it's all I could ask for, and every move was made out of love.

Now I was forced to make decisions based on that as well, Joshua depended on me to find work to take care of him, plus his vulture of a grandmother would jump at the opportunity to try and take him from me legally and that wasn't going to happen. I ended up leaving and heading for home with Dad's encouragement and sagging spirits.

Josh and my dad had built this ridiculously large train layout, and they were forever tinkering and adjusting things. Joshua had a patience for that stuff that I never did, and my father had developed a patience with Josh that he had never had for me, which shows progress I guess.

I headed back across the Hudson and turned north onto 787 to head home once more, traffic having let up a bit and I drove halfheartedly home, crossing through Cohoes and deciding at the last minute to trundle through Waterford for variety. As I crossed the bridge into North Troy I turned at the Cumberland Farms and up the small hill to the light and prepared to turn left down New Turnpike Road, where Josh went after school when Billy was working a closing shift as he was tonight.

Joshua had turned us upside down with his arrival, and clothes shopping with him was too outlandish an experience for me. Billy had fun with it, of course, he being the more fashion conscious of us, and got Josh decked out with a whole round of new clothes. My son, the clotheshorse, loved stuff from the Gap, Old Navy, and other stores where they performed a credit check at the door, unfortunately that was about to end as well. He was going to be a Wal-Mart kid for a while.

After what seemed to be an eternity the light changed and I made my left, after waiting for a line of mini-vans and subcompacts full of kids off to terrorize who knew what,. I drove for about two miles, where Troy gave way to Pleasantdale, and turned down Belfast Street and up to a small blue house with a large fence to contain an equally large dog.

"Hi, Zack," I waved at him as he woofed and waved his tail so fast his ass should have fallen off. I walked to the side of the house and let myself in the front door where Mrs. Althea Dixon met me with a smile that turned to a frown quickly.

"What's wrong?"

"Is it that obvious?" I asked with a tired chuckle.

"If it were a scent I'd say you had a disagreement with a skunk," she replied.

"Well, just as well you noticed, you saved me the trouble of bringing it up to you first," I hesitated before plunging forward, "I lost my job today, I'll have to keep Josh with me for a while until I get on my feet again."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear about your job, but you'll need a place for him to go when you have interviews and such, and since I have the luxury of not having to work outside the home, you just drop him fir a visit anytime," she gave an exaggerated sigh, "lord knows I could use the company for all my son gives me these days," she chuckled.

"Trevor been busy?" I asked conversationally.

"He seems to think Nick is his property and that he needs to be around him, just in case Nick forgets who he is and needs to be reminded suddenly." I couldn't help laughing at the wry expression on her face.

"Dad, I'll be ready in a minute," Josh called from somewhere inside.

"Ok, buddy," I replied and directed my attention to her again, "Althea, I appreciate your offer but," I was suddenly run over by her voice as she took control of the conversation.

"Don't you give me a lecture about not feeling right about it and charity and all that other crap, you need help and I am offering, so just accept it and use it when you feel you need to, or even if you don't need to but just feel like it," she smiled softly and I was struck by this simple act of kind generosity.

"Thanks Althea, I appreciate it," I replied warmly.

"No problem," she spoke over her shoulder as she retreated into the house, "I'll take it out in trade, have him clean Trevor's room," she laughed, "Joshua, are you ready?"

"I just need to reach a save point, one minute!" he called out, deeply in the throes of battling some creature on the TV.

I boiled the pasta and got the cheese out for baking afterward, skinning the package from the mild Monterey jack cheese. I turned the heat down on the pasta and called out to Josh, who was in the dining room doing his homework, "How's it going, buddy?"

"Math sucks," was the frustrated reply.

"Yeah, I agree, too bad it's the key to so many things."

"We need new keys," he muttered.

I took the broccoli from the fridge and chopped the stems up, cutting each individual piece in half, then quartered the florets and placed them in water to boil.

"Can I help? I'm done," Josh asked as he entered the room.

"Sure, JT, grab a colander and put it in the sink for me, if you would," I replied. I don't like cooking, but any opportunity to spend time with JT was a good idea in my book. I lifted the pasta from the stove and poured it onto the newly placed colander.

"Dad, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course you can, grab me that clay pot from under the cupboard, will you?" I asked while lifting the colander and shaking the excess water from the pasta.

"How come you and Billy sleep in the same bed?" he asked while kneeling to the corner cabinet for the clay pot.

I dropped the colander in the sink, pasta tumbling over the sides.

"What did you say?"

"I said, why do you and Billy sleep in the same bed?" he said, handing me the pot and then wrinkling his nose, "whatever went into the sink is from your half."

"Um, what makes you ask that question?" I asked as I transferred the pasta to the clay pot.

"Well, it's kind of like sleeping over, except he lives here. My room doesn't look like it belonged to anyone else, and it's like you guys are, like, married or something," he said haltingly. I wasn't sure what he was struggling with, trying not to make me angry, embarrassed at asking the personal question, or some of both.

Or Neither.

"Well, Billy and I are sort of married. We share bills and housework, and yes, we sleep together," I began, unsure of myself now that the question had finally been asked.

"Are you queer?" he asked softly, almost inaudibly as he looked anywhere but at me. I took him by the chin and looked at his eyes, blue like his mother's.

"Joshua, I am gay. That means I can love another man like many men love women," I said, trying to keep my voice steady and not completely understanding why this was making me so nervous.

"Does that mean I am too?" he breathed.

"Huh? No, no it doesn't. There is evidence of being gay and genes, but that doesn't mean you will be, no."

"Good, I don't want to kiss Becky Anderson, but I don't want to kiss Tommy Boudreau either," he muttered and opened the cupboard to get a glass.

"So that was it?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to know."

"Listen, for reasons you may not understand right now, please don't say anything to anyone about that, ok?"

"Why, is it bad?" he asked while setting the glass down and heading for the fridge

"Not bad, some people have a hard time with things that are different and they would make fun of you, say mean things." I said slowly.

"I'll punch em in the nuts!" he laughed. I grinned at him, "No fighting in school, mister."

He took the milk from the fridge and poured himself a glass and I mixed the broccoli in with the pasta and put the cheese on top before setting the whole works in the oven.

"Want to get the TV tables set up, JT?" I asked him while switching the oven from pre-heat to bake.
"Sure," he said as he set the milk down and headed for the living room..

After a nice dinner and sending him to bed, Billy came home and I braced myself for the talk we had to have about our new financial status, which brings me full circle, I guess, huh?

"Well, we'll have to cut a few things out of the budget for a while. In fact, maybe we should make a budget," Billy said with a wry grin.

"Well, Althea said he can go there when we need it, other than that…this is gonna be hard, babe. Upstate New York isn't exactly a technical hub, getting a job in my field won't be easy."

"Well, we'll figure out something, I guess. In the meantime, I got a raise today so that was good timing anyway," he grinned again.

"Yeah, that's cool," I replied a little listlessly.

"Hey," he said, kneeling down in front of me as I sat in my la-z-boy, "we'll get through this, just hang in there and something will happen for us. Are you going to unemployment on Monday?"

"Yeah, we'll need it, plus I need to look into insurance for Joshua," I pounded my fist into my hand, "the bastard knew he was doing this and he still went through with selling me a truck he knew I couldn't afford!"

"Well, maybe we'll give it back to him and fix your old one?" he asked softly.

"Maybe, I'll call Howard on Monday, see if he needs some help at the shop a few days a week."

"That's a start, I mean, it's not the end of the world," Billy said softly.

"It hurts though, I did a lot of stuff because they needed something done, did things strictly to cut expenses and run my department frugally, but he just dropped me, and this deal he's cutting me, he knows I need insurance!" I put my head in my hands and tried to stave off the impending headache. Billy stroked the back of my neck, working on the knotted muscles as I stressed the situation.

"Why don't you take a shower and I'll make some coffee for you?" I nodded my head in assent and as he slowly stood, joints popping from a hard day at work, I stood and held him close.

"I'm scared," I said, surprising myself with my admission.

"I know," he soothed.

He broke from me reluctantly and headed for the kitchen. I had just reached the bottom of the stairs when the front door was drummed upon like a herd of demons was demanding entry. I opened the door only to have Drew fall through the door, teary eyed and looking out of breath as I'd ever seen him.

"I need to talk to you, please!"