AN: A new character is introduced in this chapter: Someone not altogether stable who does very disturbing things, especially to children. Just a warning if this is not your forte, to not read. Chapter 2 When Justin got home from Marklesburg, the sky was dark and getting darker. He pulled his truck up to his cabin, opened his door and climbed out, heading to the back of the truck to get the German Shepherd bitch that was in the back, whining to be released. Justin attached her leash before opening the cage door, calling softly for Jillie to come to him. God, he thought, that has to be the all time dumbest name for a dog I have ever heard. Well, he would just have to get used to it. Jillie would be staying at his kennel for the next two weeks. As Justin turned to close the cage door, Jillie pulled him hard. She was, after all, 80 pounds of muscle and bone; and Justin was 140 pounds soaking wet. Justin dug in his heels trying to stop the dog, but she proceeded to drag him to the path that led to the lake. As Justin let Jillie sniff around the shoreline, his attention was suddenly caught by someone sitting there he had not seen intially. He finally realized that it was his rarely-seen, blind neighbor Brian Kinney. In the six months that Mr. Kinney had lived there, Justin had only seen him a handful of times, although he had met his friend Lindsay. Justin tried to comprehend what he was doing down by the lake on a day like today. He glanced back at the menacing clouds, and a shiver ran through him. He'd hated storms ever since he was a child, crawling into his parents' bed for comfort and security. Just at that moment Jillie yanked the leash, almost pulling Justin's arm off -- or so it felt to him. "Hold on," Justin shouted to the dog. Hearing the commotion, Brian turned his head toward the noise, and then in sheer disregard turned it back to the lake as if he were taking in the view. Justin walked down to the dock, thinking he better get the boat out of the water before the storm hits. Nonchalantly he glanced over to Brian, trying to get a better look. Fool, he tells himself. There is no reason to be coy. Just look already. He can't see you staring at him! Justin carefully lifted the docking lock to lift the boat out of the water, all the while looking in Brian's direction, trying to get a better assessment of the man. Justin took in the short hair, wondering why that would be a choice on what looked to be a very handsome face. Well, of course, you dolt. You can't look in a mirror, of course you would keep your hair short. Justin noticed Brian's continued looks over at the lake, and actually turned to see what Brian was looking at. Real smart, Justin. He's blind, remember? He thinks back to the converation he had with Lindsay when Brian first moved in; how he had been blinded in a very strange accident indeed. Apparently Brian had a dead battery in his car, called AAA to get a jump, couldn't be patient enough to wait for the mechanic to hook up the cables, did it himself, and had the battery blow up in his face. From then on it was blackness and pain for one Mr. Brian Kinney. Justin suddenly closed his eyes, trying to visualize a world of blackness. It was incomprehensible to him. What would the world be like without his art or color? The only thing he could think of is that would truly be death for him, to no longer have his art. Yeah, he had the kennel and the dogs to care for, but art was his life. In fact, meeting Lindsay had been fortuitous. She had seen his art and gotten him some commissions. Justin had to admit, though, that he rather not have the commissions if only Brian could have his eyes back. But if he had his eyes back, he would never have been around the man because Justin had to admit, even not meeting him formally, he felt something for this man. He tried to tell himself it was not pity, but maybe a bit of it was. Lindsay had been very forthcoming in explaining Brian's lifestyle, maybe to spare Justin some pain if he tried being friends. Justin told her that he had no problem with having a gay neighbor because he was gay. That's when Lindsay explained about the club scene, the drinking, the drugs, and, of course, all of the men. Justin had met men like him before, but had decided to leave the life behind after ending a bad relationship and decided to move to bum-fuck Pennsylvania and work with the dogs. His mother was still trying to figure out what he was thinking at the time. As Justin was contemplating all of this, Jillie decided it was time for some action. She bolted out of Justin's grasp and headed in Brian's direction. "Jillie, stop," Justin yelled. God, just what I need, to be sued for having a dog in my care attack a blind man. Brian was holding the dog off, who was doing her best to try and lick him in the face. "I'm sorry about that. Did she hurt you?" "Just get it away from me." "It?" "Yeah, get the fucking dog away from me. Just leave me alone." "I'm your neighbor, the one with the kennel. I'm Justin Taylor." Brian just looked back over again at the lake. "You're Brian Kinney, right? I met your friend Lindsay a few months back." "You know Lindsay?" "Well, yeah, we've talked. She's thrown a few art commissions my way, and she asked to keep an eye . . ." "You can stop looking. I'm perfectly fine of taking care of myself. Just take that flea-bitten piece of fur away from me." Justin then realized what a huge mistake he had made. Great job, Justin. Make the guy feel like an invalid; the neighbor is keeping an eye one you, little boy, in case you get in any trouble. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have said anything. It's going to rain, by the way. It looks like a pretty nasty storm. Why don't you let me give you a hand back up to the cabin." "No." Justin took a deep breath, realizing he had made the man feel all the more inferior in his situation. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. Goodbye." Justin pulled Jillie away, back toward the embankment. He had seen all of the pain reflected in that face, and the loneliness, too. He understood that pain because he felt it everyday. Well, not exactly the same, he thought. He wasn't trapped inside a dark world like Brian was. He could escape anytime he wanted, but he chose not to. Justin couldn't help but feel that he had met some kind of kindred spirit in Brian, yet somehow he knew he had blown it and probably made an enemy of the man. ---------------------------------------- Brian felt the first couple of raindrops hit his face. He had actually felt the storm approaching all afternoon; felt the change in temperature, could hear the wind come up off the water, could actually smell the rain, but he remained down by the lake, the thought of an empty cabin too depressing right now. Why the fuck did Lindsay always take him so literally? She knew how angry he got and always said things he didn't mean. Christ, she could have stayed and just sent Melanie away. Just then a powerful gust of wind hit him, and now more raindrops, this time not letting up. Maybe he should have let Justin Taylor lead him back to the cabin after all. Maybe he should have been more polite. Why the fuck should he be? He's only her spy! Thunder clapped overhead, and an even stronger gust of wind buffeted him, almost knocking him to the ground. Brian took a large breath and tried to compose himself. I can do this, he thought. I'm not helpless. I can make my way back to the cabin all by myself, just like a big boy! The rain started coming down in sheets, and Brian immediately regretted turning down Justin's offer of help. You're a fool, Kinney. You have too much damn pride for your own good. Then the first piece of hail hit him. Damn, that hurt. And then more hail was starting to fall, battering the trees, sending branches down on top of him. Compose yourself, man. Remember to count your steps. As he took his first step, he knew something was wrong. He had no stable footing. He had stepped on a branch, and he was going down. He landed on his back, right in the middle of a mud puddle. He could feel the hail pelting his face, breaking the lenses on his dark glasses. He rolled over onto his stomach, the pelting hail almost knocking the breath out of him. After finally regaining his footing, Brian hoped he was facing the right direction. Eight-six steps to the cabin. Eighty-six steps through the trees, along the gravel path to the back porch and to a warm and dry place. At about step 76 the hail had finally stopped, as had the wind. All seemed to be serenely quiet. Start counting again, Kinney; 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89 -- wait, that's wrong. There was still no back porch. He held his arms out in front of him, hoping to come in contact with the porch, but there was nothing there. Fuck me! He suddenly became dizzy, his brain swirling, trying to comprehend where exactly he was. He got down on his hands and knees and started crawling, finally coming up against another tree. Finding it, he turned his back to it and just sat there. ---------------------------------------- The boy sat in the dark in the cage, not even able to comprehend how long he had been there. He tried not to move, to not make the scary lady mad at him. In fact, he did not even make a sound as the lady, who he later learned was called Nellie, came down into the basement with her flashlight and her dog. He liked the dog. The dog was always nice to him. The dog was called Lucifer, but he was so gentle with the boy. "He looks so sad, doesn't he, Luc? What's wrong, Jesse?" When the boy heard her talk, he looked up at her, his eyes red and swollen from crying. "Boys who don't behave don't get their dinner, do they, Luc?" "I just want to go home," the small voice said. "Now, Jesse, you know we've talked about all of this." Jesse lowered his head back into his arms, ignoring Nellie. How dare he, after all I've done for him, she thought. I've fed him and taken care of him. She opened the cage and crawled in with the tray of food she had brought down with her. "Are you going to eat this, or do I have to give it to Lucifer?" Nellie was trying to keep her voice calm and reasonable. That always seemed to do the trick; but Jesse did not respond, did not lift his head to even acknowledge here. "Oh, Jesse. You make me do these things to you." She swung her flashlight at his head as hard as she could. There was no use in giving out punishment if it didn't inflict real pain, after all. Jesse cried out and tried to cover his head. She could see the blood seeping out between his fingers, and brought the flashlight down again on his hands that were covering his head. This time Jesse cried out in pain. "Oh, my poor little one. I didn't want to hurt you, but you make me do these things. You were being a bad boy. I love you, Jesse. I love you with all my heart. Come here." Nellie opened arms, and Jessie threw himself in her arms, needing some kind of comfort. She cradled him, pressing his crying eyes into her neck. She held him tight. This was love. Even as her fingers became sticky with his blood, she kept telling herself that these were the tears of love, of need. Lucifer whined at them through the bars. She turned to look at him and realized that this was love, too It was so good to be loved.