Butte Mountain Railway, Or; The Games Children Play.

Butte Mountain Railway, Or; The Games Children Play.

Okay, after fleeing from the Camp of Angels for a brief stay in the state of Washington, my mother, brother and I ended up back in California. Mom promptly hooked up with the people she had known before our rapid attempt to excape the not terribly sane contibuter of my Y chromasome. She made friends of convienience with a few new people as well. Though as soon as they "burned" her a couple of times, they went right out of our lives. My mother's first husband chose this moment to make an appearance on our then fold-down metal doorstep. Unlike the arrival of her second husband, this one did not inspire a rapid excape from the state. They talked, my mother, my brother and his father. While I was supposedly asleep in the bunk above the table they were talking at. Time passed, my brother and I were enrolled in school. His rebellions and Mom's attempts to keep him in line escalated. All the while I was trying to make myslf as small and insignificant as possible during their fights, my brother and mother were trying to make me be tougher. More commentary about how effeminate and unmanly I was flew at home and anywhere I was forced to be around my age group. On top of the direct slights were the indirect slams about "men who didn't act like men" not to mention all the back and forth on the whole subject of men and their relative worth.
It was during this time, that all the stuff that happens when two male siblings share space when one of them is in his teens happenned. I'd have the task of waking my hard-partying, hard sleeping brother up in the morning to get him to go to school. He had the task of keeping an eye on me while mom was out trying to make money enough to keep us more than just barely afloat. I would bounce on him when he wouldn't wake up. He poured ice water into my shower, would wrestle me into submission and tease me for being weaker than he. He excelled at wrestling and football and skatboarding, women and a bit of youthful B & E. So of course I both adored him and hated his fucking guts. One night I woke to the overhead light in our room on, Turned over to see what was going on and saw my teenage, lean beefcake brother's bare backside, legs spread, and jerking off over a porn mag. If I'd been less closeted about myself back then, I would have really enjoyed the show. But knowing how he reacted to a lot of things already, I turned over and prettended to still be asleep, confused about what I wanted. Shutting out and stamping out half a dozen different possible things I could say or do. I could have teased him for it. I could have asked him about it, just as his little brother. I could have been honest with him. But I couldn't. I was terrified that he'd make fun of me. Or get mad at me. I was too afraid of the consequence of taking any action. So, I turned over, smothering the hot and cold butterflies in my belly that I didn't know what to do with and forced myself to pretend I was asleep. That I didn't see the light burning red and yellow against my eyelids. That I didn't hear the slapping of flesh and his strangled sounds of pleasure. Eventually the act became reality and I did escape into sleep.

Of course with all the mingling ofmy mother and her drug/party friends, My older brother was expected to keep an eye on all of us, and I was supposed to make nice with the other kids. So I'd play games of Imagination, trying to include things that would make it fun for all included, or get dragged into games I wasn't sure I wanted to play. Like rope swings into unknown waterholes and creeks. Or tetherball. Then there would be the things my older brother would get us into. With dirty humor, pranks for which anyone and anything were fair game. Shoplifting, tresspassing into abandonned buildings. Or leaving me, with or without my "friends" outside while he had sex with one of his trysts.
Eventually, he ran away from home, hurting mom by that and by spreading rumors of physical abuse that exceded what she'd actually done to him, (which was bad It was , really without blowing it further out of proportion just to get pity) and really pissing me off as he expected me to lie for him to buy him time. I didn't, I was pissed off enough to tell Mom flat out what was going on. So she had some friends track him down. I got to hear them argue, this time about the rumors he had spread and how he just wanted to live with his father but was afraid of telling her because that would hurt her feelings. Mom somehow got the money to fulfil his stated wish. She sent him to his father. He dropped out of High School. He left us with the words "a man's got to do what a man's got to do". The venom I felt for him boiled out of my mouth and I told him that if he was what a "real man" was I hoped I never became one.
So I was left alone with Mom to weather whatever life threw at us. Her friend's kids and I were forced to play together. Being the type who leads by pretending to follow, I got my first try at boy on girl oral sex. I didn't think much of it. We were in a tent, in the back yard of one of Mom's friends' house and the Christopher and I paired up with the Nichole and Ashley. I think they were supposed to reciprocate our tougueing but that never happenned, or at least not in my case. I kept feeling that someone was going to burst in on us so I broke off and went to sit lookout. So Chris may have gotten his cock slobberred over, but I never asked. These three kids became far too permanent a set of aquaintances later, when we all moved up into the hills of a tiney speck that isn't even on most maps, called Concow.
In Concow, the little travel trailer that took us from California to Goldendale, Washington and back again was put into use as our quarters. on the property of a couple of Mom's party friends who ended up getting married. Making their children step-siblings though no one seemed to know that the Groom's (Albert) son and the Bride's (Chrissy) elder daughter had fooled around. For the glorious privilage of living on their land, my mother often acted as their maid, and was expected to give over half her foodstamps, I was expected to get a cut of the household chores, for which I got five dollars, any week they felt like I deserved the same kind of allowance the other three children got. We got along as well as any group of children forced to be around each other. Sometimes marvelously. Some times not at all. There was the "act like family" vs. "we are better than you" opposing dynamics going on, both with the adults and the children. One set of those friends we made showed Chris and me our (or at least my) first porn flick.
That was an interesting experience. Something about sexy women taking over the world by knocking men out with sex. The one scene we watched was with a great big, young construction worker getting his first blowjob. While I kept my eyes on the flick, what I was really paying attention to was the banter going on amongst Chris and these other two boys. Commentary on the film, the guy's dick, the girl's tits and mouth and what she was doing. One of the boys got up and went to the bathroom right after the other suggested whipping our dicks out and jerking to the film. So he and Chris both teased the other boy that he was jerking his cock to make sure it was big enough to not embarrass himself. I assumed this would be because he, like I must have been a "grower", with a penis that was bigger hard than soft. I wanted so b badly to look at the other boys and see what they had, but like the time in the tent, sensed that I'd be made fun of for "gay behavior" and quashed the impulse.
Another time, Chris and I were supposed to be getting washed up while sleeping over at our friend Tyler's house. While I was in the tub, I heard Tyler and Chris fooling around. So I got out and dried off, only to see Chris was humping his adolescent penis in between the younger boy's buttcheeks. I asked if I could join in and they let me. We formed a train, taking turns at each position. Eventually, we tired of the friction play and moved on to the more childish play with the three-way mirror, then went to bed in the fort made of blankets, chairs and couch curtains.
This playing about did not exempt me from the name calling Christopher, Ashley and Nichole subjected me to. Nor the time they threw their candy wrappers at my head and called me trash. HA fucking HA, like they were any better than my mother and I were.
In the end, Nichole became a stripper and married Christopher, Ashley got really heavily into drugs and in the course of her recoverry became a rather hardcore Christian. Of course, this particular denumont is completely hearsay. I made no attempt to stay in contact with them. I let the wind of all the moving aways take them from my life. Gladly. I wanted to be stronger than they thought I was. Stronger than anyone thought I was back then, with my tendancy to cry and my always taking offence to things other people took for granted. Strong enough not to need the "friendship" offerred by people who treated me badly. I do wonder what happenned to poor Tyler, but only when I think about those days. Which, thanks to my habit of escaping into books, is mercifully not often.

Comments

Wow! :yikes: That reads like a bad Lifetime movie. I don't know what else to say other than I am sorry you didn't have a happy childhood. :frown1:
 
*shrugs* It's a life that could easily have been worse. I may have weatherred verbal and phsycological abuse, even the occasional thrown rocks, but I've never been hospitalized by a gay bashing or anything. *smiles* Just lucky enough to dodge the worst of things I guess!
 
That's funny because I have had rocks and ice balls thrown at me by white kids who didn't want me in their school when I was in 6th-8th grade.

I guess we all have had our crosses to bear in one way or another. I'm glad you survived your upbringing. You seem like a nice person. :cool:
 

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