PART ONE OF THREE PARTS:
It was dark and I was freezing. There were no stars in the sky tonight. Clouds had rolled in from the horizon across the ocean.  Curling up as best I could under the pier, my light jacket was not much good at keeping the damp chill out. I guess the pier was not the
warmest place I could sleep. The beach was not empty and I felt as safe as I could. No one would be able to walk up on me without me seeing them first. Fine salty mist hung in the night air. It was on my face, I could taste it. My hair was damp with it.

I sat shivering and waiting for the restaurant at the end of the pier to close. It was a spendy type place close to the yacht club here. There would be some food in the dumpster soon. Or I hoped there would.  It didn’t take long for me to get over my squeamishness on garbage eating. My first week out here I was mugged and what meager possessions I had brought with me stolen.  What little money I had luckily
hidden in my shorts was gone now. Food is spendy out here. Hell everything is California is not what I had thought it was.

At age 15, I thought that it was all blondes and good times. My California dream was a nightmare. But I was right about the blondes.

I had no idea what time it was, see my watch was stolen, too. I shifted to a more comfortable position. My body still hurt. Yesterday, I had taken some desperate chances and lost big time.  I watched some of the prostitutes on the boulevard and was really surprised at how many guys my age were out there. It really creeped me out.
Well there was no way I was going for that. My back door is exit only. I did see some of the guys get picked up by old women. Like in their 40’s.  That career was just not for me.
I hung out with those dudes a few days. They sorta felt sorry for me and would toss me a ten or buy me a burger sometimes. One of the guys told me that some people lead the clients on and then rob them. Said it was real risky, especially if you got caught, but easy enough to do. I had seen plenty guys mugged, too. Most people just give up the goods and walk away unharmed. The guys that jumped me didn’t even have a knife or anything.

The idea of coming on to a guy was....I just wasn’t that desperate yet. I was walking along the crowded board walks.  I was starving. I hadn’t had anything to eat in a day or two. I was feeling pretty desperate.

I found an *alternative* club and hung out close to the door. I had cleaned up at the beach with the fresh water showers you use to rinse the salt water off. I walked around for a while trying to psych my self up for this. I must have changed my mind a million times. This real big man walked up to me. No not him. Too old, too big. Definitely not the guy to pick up.

“You waiting for someone?”

I didn’t answer I just shook my head no. He was looking real close at me. I couldn’t look him in the eye. I was never good at playing innocent. The way he was looking at me I was beginning to think he was a cop.

“Kid. That bartender will not serve you so you just forget it."

He thought I was tying to sneak in the club? No that was not the plan.
He wasn’t moving so I  started to walk away from him and the club.

“Hey, kid. I’m going that way. I’ll walk with you."

He was probably making sure I was really leaving.  Jerk.   I had come up with a brilliant idea. I would find a little dude and mug him. I had seen it done. I could do that. I just wouldn’t hurt him, scare him a little, just take some money. I am a good-sized guy, a little skinny right not but taking on a small guy would be no problem.

Wrong.

I went back to the club after I ditched my baby sitter several blocks way.  I had spent the hour fighting with myself. I new this was not cool. And I new this was really wrong for tons of reasons.

It wasn’t long before I was approached. I avoided a couple really big guys. I was nearly ready to just forget the whole idea when this little guy came up and started talking. He had been drinking and he was interested.  A John, I guess you call them that. He looked like a good target. He seemed frail, sissy-like, twentyish. When I got in his car I was really nervous and jumpy.  I talked him into going to the beach.

As soon as we got out and walked towards the beach I wasted no time. I jumped him.
Big fucking mistake that was. He may be a little dude, maybe 5’4" or so, but man he kicked my 5’8" ass. He pounded on me like the surf did the beach. Nothing sissy or frail about those fists. I was bawling and begging for him to just let me go. No dice. He slammed me against the hood of the car face down. I was scared he was going to..to..

Well I don’t know how I did it but I was able to push away from the car and break his hold. I kicked him good in the shins and I ran like hell. Small consolation, I did get a lot of blood and snot on the shiny hood of his Honda Prelude.

I spent the night walking or limping as far away from that beach as I could. The whole time wondering how the fuck I got in this mess.

Two months ago my ol’man and I really got into it. I took out the car one night. He busted me as I was sneaking back in the garage around 3am. I don’t see what the big deal was. It’s not like I damaged the car. I can drive. Hell he taught me.

He was totally pissed. I have never seen him that angry. He dragged me to my room and yelled at me he was saying stuff like how could I be so irresponsible, that I didn’t even have a permit yet, what if I had been in a wreck, this was his house and if I wanted to live there. Bull shit. I was yelling back, too. I said I hated him and his rules, I was a man not a boy, that I couldn’t wait to get out of that shit hole. It was a bit too much for dad ‘cause he slapped me hard and then walked out. He had never done that before. Well fuck him and this place I thought.  I grabbed a few things and stuffed them in my gym
bag and booked out the window. I’ve picked up the phone from time to time. I can’t, that bridge is burnt.

Tears started just thinking about it. God, I want to go home.    I had to give myself a little shake. Sitting here crying about it won’t get me fed. Or warm. Good the restaurant is dark now.

Keeping low and sneaking around the bathrooms I got a little closer to the restaurant. No light, no cars, looks good.  In near paranoid caution I walked to the dumpster.

“Sweet!” there was a lot of food in it. Some still warm. Steak, burgers. whole bread sticks, fruit, veggies, ugh broccoli, gross. Using a decent enough box I loaded up on the food. Shoved a bread sick in my mouth and headed back to the pier. I’d eat like a king tonight. I hadn’t eaten in like two days.

Something moved in the darkness. There again!  Shit!  Someone is out here.

"You there!  Stop!"  Two people moved rapidly towards me. Guards. Must be security guards. Fuck. Bay Watch never had security guards.

I ran down the beach.  The sand was deep and hard to run in, I tripped and went sprawling, dumping my food in the sand. Ruined.  I surprised myself with the combinations of cussing I did.

“There he is!”
 
That did it. I got up and ran hard. I ran along the water line where the sand was firmer, nearly three months of living on the beach and out of trashcans has me out of shape. They chased me down to the docks where all the cool boats and yachts were. The gate to the docks was open. I took full advantage and ran down the docks. It was real late and there was no one around. My feet drummed fast on the wood docks, I could hear the two guys behind me. The chain gate banged against the fence. Man, they were getting closer fast. The docks were lit pretty good. I am sure they can see me. No place to hide. I made a wrong choice I can see that I am about to run out of road here and I
can’t go back. They are only two rows away. Looking around I start to panic. I can’t go back I can’t go forward. Shit! Think, McKay, think.

I got on one of the boats, a small sailboat. Nothing to hide under. Doors are locked. I can see them just the next row over. Fuck, I’m dead.

The lights on the next boat over come on. Just great, only one chance, only one thing left to do. I carefully slip myself into the water. I almost cry out. Holy crap it’s cold. I move away from the sailboat, just in case the person on the next boat heard me. I can only move to that boat. It’s the only one for several yards and I’m freezing. It’s hard not to make noise. The lapping of the water against the boats is very quiet. Any splashing by me will be heard for sure. I can here the guards on this row now.
 
“Something I can help you boys with?”

I duck down lower in the water. Fuck. Whoever lives on this boat is up on the deck.

“Hey! You two. What do you want here?”

Odd way to talk to guards. C’mon just leave so I can get out.

“We're looking for someone. You see any one run by here?”

Odd way for guards to talk. I take a chance and sink lower, peeking around the boat.   I quickly pull back into the dark. Good thing my mouth was under water. They weren’t guards at all, just some guys not much older than me.  I would still have ran. They looked my size and two of them to my one, with me banged up, was lousy odds.

“No. Why are they running? Running from you two?"
 
“Huh? It’s none of your business.”

“Yeah?”
 
I heard the man grab something off the boat. It had a metallic sound.   “Well you two boys are trespassing, you don’t need to be running around these docks. No doubt chasing some bum off the beach, Right?"

He didn’t give them a chance to answer.
 
"Not a wise or kind thing to do. Tell you what. I’ll let you little shits run outa here while I call the police or you can take your chances with an aluminum bat. Deal?" The man said it real reasonable like, but there was something about his voice. If it was me, my feet would be flyin’.

I could hear the beeps from a cell phone. Shit. He was calling the cops. I got to get out of here. The moment he started dialing. The losers ran like hell back down the dock.
I could here him muttering something.  I could no longer see him. I moved back to the side of the boat as they took off. As soon as he leaves I’m outa here.

“C’mon dude go back inside,” I silently urged. My hands were having a hard time holding onto the back of the boat. It was so cold I felt numb all over. I was getting worried that I wouldn’t have the strength to climb out. I kept peering around to see if he had gone back down below.

I couldn’t see him but I would have heard him if he had.   I wasn’t going to be able to stay in the water much longer. My teeth were chattering and I was starting to feel tired. Not good signs.

A jolt went down my spine and the hairs ticked the back of my neck. Having nothing to do with the cold water. I slowly looked up. Right into his face as he stood there over me  with a blanket.

Dead in the water, is what thought flashed in my mind.  Dead in the water.

“They're gone now. You better get out of that water.”

I just bobbed there. Scared stupid.

“Well, boy. Move it, before you get hypothermia on me.”

I tread over to the back step of the boat and tried to get up with some dignity. Nothing doing’. I fall right back in. Next I know I’m hauled up by the back of my jacket and wrapped in a heavy blanket and being vigorously rubbed all over.
I tried to say thanks, but I was shaking too much and my teeth were chattering so fast I felt like my jaws were locked.  It was dark and I couldn't' get a good look at him. But I got the feeling he was a big man and by the way he tossed me on board a strong one.
As he rubbed me, he was asking me questions. He had a very firm voice. Not unlike my dad’s.

“You live around here? Can we call anyone?”

 “Na..Na..No. I...I...da..da..don’t have any one. I...I’mmmmmm ho..ho..hom.”

 “Homeless?”He sounded surprised

 All I could do was jerkily nod my head.   He didn’t ask any more questions just mumbled something about babies being on the streets. I wasn’t paying much attention all I cared  about was that he keep rubbing  the numbness away. Suddenly my head swam I couldn’t warn him before I felt my knees buckle. Lights out.
 

"Dad?"
 
My own voice woke me up. I covered my eyes with my arm. No Dad was not here.  I had dreamt that Dad and I were out on our boat fishing. I could almost feel the rocking of the....wait a sec. I do feel it. I sat up, narrowly avoided braining myself on the low ceiling of the bunk. I was in a boat!  And from the feel of it.... I looked out the small porthole. Yep. I’m out in open water.I don’t here any engine noise. Odd. I’m confused but too sore to be scared. I ache from hair to toenails.  I look down at myself. I’m in a nice bunk with warm covers. I have clothes on. But not my own...these are clean.

I try hard to remember last night. Still not scared just foggy.  I can hear some banging around in the galley just around the corner from me. Someone is whistling. I strain to make sure I’m hearing right. Popeye! He’s whistling the Popeye tune?. Okay *now* I’m
scared.

“Good. You're awake.”

A large man fills the small doorway. I remember him from last night...the man on the boat.

“Hungry?”

That single, simple, question vaporized all fear, confusion and my own questions.

“Dude. I’m starved.”

I hopped out of the bunk. I found myself in a huge t-shirt and surfer type shorts that slid down low on my hips. I had to hold them up. I adjusted the draw string as tight as I could get it.

“Sorry, sport. Closest I could come up with. Your things are drying on the deck.”

He was stooped over but I could tell he had to be over  6 foot. I couldn’t make out too much of his features, he was wearing a slouch type baseball hat. He looked younger than my dad. Maybe in his Twenties.  He looked big.

“Well, come on you, let's eat.”

It was hard not to run after him. I could smell food. Bacon..God, please let that really be bacon.

I sat down where he laid out a setting for me. Real dishes. “Dad and I always used paper plates."

“What was that?”

Oops I didn’t know I said that out loud.

“Nothin’ “
 
He just shrugged his broad shoulders and turned back to the stove. He piled my plate with eggs, bacon and hash browns. I dove in with no manners and promptly burnt my mouth on the hot potatoes.

“Hey, take it easy, Sport. Go slowly or you’ll get sick again. Here drink this. Slowly."

He plunked down a huge glass of milk. I drank it so fast that milk poured down both sides of my mouth. Next I knew he had a hand on my forehead and took the empty glass from me and began to wipe my face with a wet rag. I felt like an idiot. I pushed his hands away and took the rag.

“I can do it. Thanks.” I cleaned my self up and wiped the milk off the table.
 
“Sorry.”
 
“No problem. Just go slow. Here, want more milk?”

I nodded and tried to eat slowly and with some manners.

“What did you mean before when you said I’d get sick again?” I said around a mouthful of eggs. I realized how gross that was and I could feel myself blushing hotly. He just grinned and handed me another glass of milk.

“You passed out last night after I fished you out. Worried me a bit. I wasn’t sure if I should take you to emergency or not. You woke up when I got you down below here. Asked me not to. I tried to get some food in you, but you scarfed it down so fast you made yourself sick. I almost didn’t get you topside in time."

I was really embarrassed. I tried to say something.

He pointed to my plate and ordered.  “Eat now. We’ll talk later. Go on, dig in.”

I was more than happy to obey. We both ate in polite silence.   I was polishing off the second helping while he cleaned up the galley.  I looked around between bites. It was a really nice boat. A lot bigger than Dad’s. His was just a lake boat. I got a better look at him over breakfast. He had short hair under his baseball cap, it looked light brown or dark blond. He had green eyes and had a mild shadow on his jaw, like he hadn’t shaved in a day.

Clean cut in his denim shirt and shorts like the ones I had on and I guessed him in his late twenties or younger.

“I need to go topside. Come on up when you're done.”

Now that my stomach was taken care of my brain kicked back in. I put my dishes in the sink and started to wash them. I felt nervous now. I’m out to sea with some guy I don’t know, I’m wearing his clothes and I can’t remember anything other than him pulling me out of the water last night.

I finished my dishes and saw a knife on the counter. I don’t know why, but I picked it up and looked at it. It was like a diver’s knife sharp with a rubber hilt. I felt the hairs on my neck prick.  I turned around and found whatshisname leaning on the hatchway watching
me. The look on his face reminded me of my dad when he knew I was up to something.
He swung down from the hatchway without using the steps and I couldn’t help but take a step back. He just stood there staring at me. I could feel myself swallow a couple times. My mouth felt suddenly dry.

“Give me the knife, Sport.”

He held out his hand. His voice was laid back, but the guy had a way of talking with his eyes.

“I’m not going to ask twice,” they said loud and clear.    Slowly I handed it to him. He was sorta grinning at me as I flipped it to grab it by the flat of the blade and gave it over hilt first.

“You know something about knives, Kid.”

He put it in the sheath on his belt and snapped it. Reaching out and he ruffled my hair. I  jumped a little.

“Take it easy, Sport. I would have been tempted myself if I was in your place.”
 
“Come topside and get some fresh air."

I followed him up. It was real bright and sunny. Now I knew why it had been so quiet. I was on a big sailboat. There were my clothes hanging on a line like flags.   The ocean was huge. I have never been out to sea.   I could see the harbor. It would appear and disappear over the horizon with each wave. A weird feeling came over me as I watched it bob in and out of view. I felt small being surrounded in all that water. I don’t know why but a phrase or poem came to mind.

“Water. Water everywhere..an..."
 
“And not a drop to drink."

I turned around at his voice. He was a giant. Standing at least 6’3" or a littler taller. He had taken off his shirt and was in a tank that was cut off at the middle. Muscles bulged all over his upper body.  Forget 6-pack, his tan stomach muscles could almost be considered a case. He looked like a Viking posing as a lifeguard.

“Where’d you hear that?”

“I dunno. School I guess.”

I was really feeling jumpy. It started to sink in that I’m really out in the middle of nowhere with a dude I didn’t know. A very big one.

“School, huh?”

I just shrugged my shoulders and turned back to the ocean. Trying to tell myself that I am not as scared as I was beginning to feel.

“It’s big, isn’t it?”

I almost jumped out if my..er..his shorts. I didn’t hear him walk up to me.

“Easy, Kid. I didn't’ mean to startle you.”

“Let's have a seat.“

“Here. Put some lotion on.”

He pointed to the seats in the cockpit and handed me a bottle of sunscreen. We went over and I sat down. He seemed pretty cool.

“Okay, Sport, let's have a look at you.”

Whoa! Check please! I batted his hands away from me and tried to stand up. He just put and hand on my shoulder and I was pinned.

“Hey! Whatayadoin? Don’t.”
 
“Chill out, Kid. Be still. I’m just checking my work.”

He turned my head from side to side, looking real close at me.  I put up a hand to my face. He slapped my hand away.

“What are you a Doctor of somethin’?“

“Nope. I’m an EMT.”

He stopped and sat across from me. I put my hand back to my face and I could feel a couple bandaids. I hadn’t felt before now.

“Your boat? You live on this boat?”

I put some of the sunscreen on and handed back the bottle.

“Yes, she’s mine. I wish I lived on it. I’m just on vacation. Any thing else sport?”

I was getting kinda tired of this “sport” shit.

“Yeah. Why do you keep calling me that?”

“What? Sport?”

“Yeah.”

“Because I don’t know your name.

“Oh.”
“You had no I.D. on you last night. Sorry, Kid. I went through your pockets. Only found   sand and gum wrappers. Well *Sport*?”

I felt unsure. Do I tell him my real name? He was sitting there just watching me waiting.
There was something about the way he looked at me like his lie detector was activated. I knew I’d be fish food if I lied. Man this dude was intense.

“Tim. My name is Tim.”

“Tim who?”

I just shook my head no.  “No who. Just Tim. Okay?”

He leaned over and put out his hand. I put out my own and we shook hands.

“Hello, Tim. I’m Doug Wolf. Nice to meet you.”

For a while we just sat and soaked in the sun. Doug messed around with the boat. I know squat about sailboats. He pulled this, swung and spun that. Next thing I knew, we were picking up speed. I just tried to stay out of his way enjoying the ride. The sun and wind felt great.

I must have crashed on him. The next thing I knew Doug was shaking me awake.

“Wake up ...Tim. Wake up.”

I sat up. Looking up I guessed it to be mid afternoon. We were closer to the land now, too.

“Were are we?”

“One of my favorite spots. I come here to go diving and fishing a lot.”
It was real pretty. We were anchored in a cove of some kind. High cliffs and no beach. I stood up to stretch. I must have made a face when I did. I also had to pull my shorts back up.

“Sore, Kid? I checked last night. I don’t think you have anything broken.”

“Just a little sore that's all.”

I looked around. I couldn’t see any other boats anywhere. He had taken down the sail. I must have really slept hard.   My nap didn’t do anything for the jitters I felt.

“I’m going down below and make a snack. You can stay top side if you want. I’ll bring up   something.”

“I’ll stay here.”

He gave me one of those looks that made my hair stand on end.

“Don’t touch anything.”

“Gimme a break.”

“I mean it, Tim.”

“Okay, chill out. I won’t.”

It was really nice out. September in California is not all that warm and really cold at night. But today is was hot and it felt good. I wanted to take off my shirt, but I knew my back and chest and ribs were covered in bruises. Not only that but compared to the muscle man I was a toothpick with eyes.

While he was in the galley I walked around the boat. It was big. Must be over 30 feet long.  Looking over the rail the water was real blue. I sat down and dangled my legs over the side and propped my arms on the rail. Closing my eyes I tried to give into the rocking of the boat to help calm myself.  All that did was make me think of the times me and Dad took out our boat, just a fair sized bayliner with a small galley and head. Fishing out on the lake. For the millionth time I thought about what Dad might be doing. Basically making myself miserable. Only adding to my mood.

“Hey you. I got some munchies here.”

I got up and joined him back in the cockpit. He had some summer sausage and cheese cut up on a plate.

“Sorry, Sport. This will have to tide us over till dinner. Think you can manage with this?”

This was a feast for me. I was lucky if I could eat more than once a day if I ate at all.

“That’s cool.”

He handed me a glass of milk. I gladly took it and downed it.

“Well, Tim. How about some questions answered?"

I really didn’t want to. I just shrugged my shoulders and concentrated on eating.
I could feel him looking at me waiting.  He leaned back and crossed his arms, the Almighty then.

“Okay. How did you know I was in the water?”
 
My stomach tightened at the look I was getting from Doug. But I just played it cool.
He kept his arms crossed but I could see the muscles bunch some. I don’t think he liked that much.

“I saw you go in from the other boat.”

“What am I doing here?”

I surprised myself with that one. I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

“I had already planned on coming here. That’s why I was on the boat last night so I could take off at fist light. You were out of it. So I patched and cleaned you up. I felt that out here I could find out what you were doing out there."

Yeah. Where he was sure I couldn’t get away.  I started to ask another question. When he leaned towards me resting big arms on his knees.

“Now it’s my turn. How old are you?”
 
“Eighteen,” I lied

“Tim.” Warning clearly rang out in his voice.

“I’m not stupid. Don’t lie to me.”

His lie detector was locked on target.

“I’m small for my age,” I tried to reason. I could here the weakness in my own voice. I have always been a lousy liar.  He edged closer to me and grabbed my jaw with his hand, making me look him in the eye.

 “Care to try that again?”

No I didn’t. I really didn’t.

“Fifteen,” I said jerking out of his grasp.

“See that wasn’t so bad. Now was it?” I didn’t answer.

“Tim, I consider myself an easy going guy, but there are a few things that I don’t put up   with. One of them is lying. Okay?”

 I didn't’ give a shit what he expected. But I kept that to my shelf and just nodded.

“Good. Now why were you in that water last night? I mean I know that you were hiding. Why?"

“I was on the beach and these two guys started chasing me. I thought they were guards or something.”

“Are they the ones that did that to you?”

He pointed at my face. I could feel my face get hot. I just shook my head. I couldn’t look him in the eye. I didn’t want anybody to know about that.

“I didn’t think so. Those cuts looked a couple days old. That one on your eyebrow should   have had stitches. Too late for that now. It will leave a scar, Sport.”

“Whatever,” I shrugged indifferently. His body language told me that he did not like that remark. He took a big sigh and stood up. I looked away over the water hoping that he didn’t read the fear that I was feeling. I was growing more antsy with all the questions and him standing over me wasn’t helping. I knew he deserved answers. I just didn’t want to deal with this crap.
 
When I looked back at him. He was leaning against the cabin. He didn’t look easy going at the moment. Intimidating as hell is how he looks.

“Last night you told me that you live on the streets. Is that right?”

I didn’t pay attention to the storm brewing in his eyes. I gave him a smart ass answer. More like dumb ass.

“No. I live on the beach,” I snapped.

That did it. I didn’t have time to regret that answer. He was in my face instantly.

“Look you, little shit. I’ve been nice and I’ve been patient. Well *Sport* my patience is at its end. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Maybe I should just call the cops.”

“I don’t care what you do, asshole. Go ahead and call the fucking cops. What can they do?”

You can call it temporary insanity. But I got right back in his face. My nerves were shot. My temper won out over calm.

“Well, Timmy. You are underage. Which means you go straight to child services without a get out free card.”

He poked my in the chest several times hard. Pissing me off.

“I don’t give a fuck. Call them...gahead...do it asshole.”
 
“Tim, you watch that mouth, Sport.”

“I don’t gotta do nothin.’ You call the cops and I’ll...I’ll...”

“You will what?”

“I’ll tell them you kidnapped me. You’ll go to jail. I’ll tell them you beat me.”

He pushed me back down on the bench. Being the brainiac that I am I popped back up and tried to take a swing at him. He smoothly ducked out of the way and gabbed me. Pushed me up against the cabin. I was almost jackknifed over the roof.

“Fine by me. I’ll warn you right now, boy. I won’t go to jail for nothing.”

Fear froze my lungs. I panicked. I started to struggle. He had me by several pounds so struggling was mostly for show. I called him every name in the book and made up a few as I went.

“If that’s the way you want it. Fine. You want to throw a tantrum. Fine."

He began to smack my ass very, very hard. I traded cussing at him for pleading with him.

“Ouch!

"Ugh.Fuck..don’t..mhuph...stop...shit..ouch.....ahh...stop..please...Okay....enough...stop!"

He stopped and backed away from me. I instantly spun and swung at him again. He ducked out of that one, too. I was caught by the arms. As big as he is I had no real chance.  Next thing I knew he grabbed me by the back of the arm and waist. He tossed my like I weighed nothing into the water. I came up and shook the water and hair out of my face. He was standing on the boat with his hands on his hips. More Viking than life guard now.

“That ought to cool your temper. Tim, you just stay out there till you can behave."

“Fuck you, man. Fuck you!” I fired back.

“Suit yourself. I’ve got all the time in the world.”

I tried a few times to climb back in. Each time Doug pushed me back down in the water. I gave up after a while and did swim a bit. I didn’t want to push him too much. Those swats really hurt and I wasn’t ready for a replay.
 
I had been in the water for a long time. I was getting tired. I did some thinking.
I thought that I must have lost my fucking mind. Doug was twice my size. I was 5’8" and only about 125 pounds right now. He could have snapped me like a twig. I took swings at him. I’m a fucking idiot. Floating on my back several yards away from the boat, I thought about every thing.  Nothing has turned out like it was to suppose to. I felt like such a man when I left home. I’ve made nothing but mistakes here. Doug spanking me. Just thinking the word made me feel small. Proved that I’m just a stupid ass kid.

I wasn’t angry any more. I felt depressed. Tired. Surprisingly close to tears. I watched Doug move around on the boat, covering the sail, coiling up lines.  I felt a little relieved. His temper seemed to have cooled some. It didn’t look like he was going to call the cops. He was still not too trilled with me. I could see how tense he was. Once again my mouth gets me into trouble. I’m getting pretty dammed tired of adults being right about it all the time. “Tim that mouth is going to get you into deep trouble.”  Well here I am. Out in the Pacific Ocean, and far away from home.

Home.... my chest tightened. No. I’m homeless.  My only shelter was the boat I just got my ass kicked off of. I rolled over and slid under the water. I let the quiet world under there help me get a grip. I kicked back to the surface and started swimming for the boat. I stopped about half way and saw Doug standing there waiting. He didn’t look pissed. Stern, that would be the word. I started stroking for the boat again. I glided to the back step of the boat. Shaking the water and hair out of my face I looked up. I think I prefer him pissed.  I couldn’t read the look on his face. I didn’t know what I was going to get here.

“Can I get out now? Please."
 
He looked at me a long time. I was feeling real squirrelly while I waited. I’m sure that was the idea. It worked.

“Come aboard.”

It was command not an invitation. He held out his hand for me. Just as he had me pulled partially out of the water, he stopped. I was helpless. If he let go I was back in the water.

“Last name.”

He was not asking. He was demanding. The warning in his tone was crystal clear.

“McKay. Timothy McKay.”

I was firmly lifted up and hosed off with fresh water. He put a towel around me and  pushed me towards the cabin.

“Well, Timothy McKay. Go get in some dry clothes. They are on the bunk.”

I went below and got out of the wet clothes, dressed in my own clothes. They were clean for the first time in I don’t know how long  My jeans were baggy to begin with, but now they hung on my hips. My sweatshirt and jacket were too big now, too. I mopped up the water I tracked in. I stayed below as long as I dared. I knew that he would be wanting those answers now.

Doug was waiting for me with a coke when I came back up. I sat back down and waited.

“Okay, Tim. Are you we going to talk or do I call the cops?”

The idea of him calling the cops sent chills down my spine. I had been brought home once by the sheriff of our town when I was twelve, for trespassing and mischief in a junkyard. Dad pounded a lesson of fear of ever being in a police car again in my backside. I aced that test.
 
I was tying to fight the panic I was feeling. If he turns me in to the cops and that guy I tried to mug has called them I’m screwed. I could feel myself starting to shake. C’mon McKay get a grip.  When I lifted my can to take a drink my hand shook. I put it down but not in time to avoid his notice.

“Are you in some sort of trouble? C’mon, Kid. Talk to me."

 I was about to say some thing.

“Tim, did you  run away?“

That got my attention. I looked up.

“Did that happen at home?"

He was pointing at my face again. I stood up and jumped to my dad’s defense right away.

“Hell, no! Shit, my Dad would never do any thing like that. I...I...”

I was busted.  I pretty much gave away the fact that I did run away. I flopped back down on the bench and put my head in my hands. We sat in silence for a moment.

“I did run away. But I am homeless. And I do live on the beach.”

We talked some more about the night I ended up in the water, how I had been mugged when I first got out here, and lost all my I.D. and money. Doug whistled low and shook his head when I told him I’ve been here almost three months. Then he started back in on the more recent shit.

“Tim, who beat you up?”

I knew we would get back around to this. Man. I’m fish food. He’s gonna toss me off this boat.  I took a deep breath and told him about trying to mug that guy and how he beat the crap out of me. I could feel my voice squeak. It still broke once in a while, but this from fear and shame.  He stood up suddenly. I just kept my head down and waited. And waited...

I finally looked up. He had this look of...I don’t know...total disbelief or something.
I opened my mouth, but what could I say. Doug didn’t stay shocked for long.
I was startled by him grabbing me by my shirt. “This is it” I though and got ready. He pulled me up nearly off my feet and into his face. I had an overwhelming desire to piss myself.

“God! I oughta kick your fucking skinny little ass.”

I wouldn’t make eye contact with him. I can’t. I pin my eyes on his Adam's apple. I could see his pulse in his neck. It was very fast and the veins were standing out. He’s really torqued.

“You think you're some kind of bad ass, Mr. Tough Guy?"

“No.”
 
Man I’m scared. More now then when I got the shit kicked out of me. “He’s gonna toss me over board again,” I thought.

Doug started shaking me while yelling at me. I hate that. Gets me all tight and rattled.
As scared as I was, I had a hard time keeping my cool. I can feel my temper boil up. Who the fuck does he think he is? A small voice in the back of my mind told me that this was the guy who fished me out, patched me up and could kill me with one arm and no one would ever know. I shoved him away from me.

“Get off, asshole! What the fuck was I suppose to do. It was that or whore myself on the   street. I wasn’t going to hurt him. Just scare him and take his money.”

I’m yelling at him. I hear my excuses and I know they are weak. But he’s pissing me off.

“Oh, and that makes it okay.  Beat someone up and steal from them. Didn’t you tell me you were mugged? How did you feel? Shit, Tim!”

“I didn’t .... I wasn’t going to fucking beat him up. Shit!  I was just..."

“Yeah, I know what you said. Tell me. Did you pick him ‘cause he’s gay?”
 
“What?  No!...Yeah!... No.. I don’t know... I picked him ‘cause he was *little* and gay. No   straight dude was going to pick me up.”

“I don’t know why you're so bent about it. I’m the one that got the fucking shit beat out of him."

“You have no fucking clue, do you? Do you know how close to a hate crime that was?"

Things were getting out of control. I’m not prejudice.

“I’m not prejudice. Damnit. Doug, what the fuck was I suppose to do? I was starving.”

He grabbed my shirt again.

“You could have called home. I am bent, Tim. I am fucking pissed off. Too pissed to deal with you right now. I need to cool off.”

He shoved me away from him. I stumbled towards the cabin my legs shaky. Looking back, he’s was standing there all tight and his whole upper body was pumped up. He was really a big man, and very angry at *me.* His muscles bulged and flexed as he moved his arms. Arms that could do some serious damage.

“Now, Tim."
 
I was going to tell him to fuck off. But changed my mind.

“Get your little ass below before I finish what I started earlier. God damnit you have it coming. But not what I’m tempted to dish out...MOVE!”

I don’t know how long I laid on the bunk. I must have dosed off. It was dark now and the lights were on low. I remember hearing Doug dive off the boat. I guess he really needed to cool off like he said. Two blowups in one day, besides only a few hours apart, was a record even for me. I felt drained.  That was intense. I remember hearing our raised voices echoing over the water. Man, Doug was mad. So was I, but Doug had a right to
be. I didn’t. I know that. I knew that then. I put my hand up to rub my face. I can feel the bandages are coming off. I peeled the one off my eyebrow.  It itches. What now. Shit, I feel like crying. Sitting up I swung my legs over the bunk and rested my arms on my knees. Head in hands. I’m so screwed up.

I got that creepy feeling again. I looked up and found Doug standing against the wall. My stomach felt like I had an iceburg in it. He could appear out of nowhere.

“How was your swim?”  I didn’t know what else to say.

“Okay. How was your nap?

I just nodded my head. He sat down on the bunk across from me.

“Are you sure? I checked on you a couple times. You seemed restless.”

“I’m fine.”

He just looked at me, close like. Making my nervous.

“I’m not prejudice.”

I hated how that just popped out and sounded pouty. Nice going McKay. Doug reached over and patted my shoulder.

“I believe you, Tim.  Sorry that I blew up at you like that.   Don’t get me wrong. I’m still upset. That was a stupid and dangerous thing you did.   Getting in his car alone was crazy."

Man. He’d really tweak if he knew how I got out here. I didn’t volunteer the fact that I had hitch hiked.

“I know you didn’t plan on hurting anyone.  But *you* got hurt. What if he had a gun Tim?   What then? Do you know how lucky you are that you only got a beating. You could be   dead.”

I had thought of all these things, too. He was right and I know it. I didn’t blame the guy for beating me up.

“I know I asked for it. I don’t blame the dude.”
 
“Tim, with my job I see some bad stuff. You’ve seen the news. You really don’t know how lucky you are he didn’t have a gun. Or beat you up worst and left you for dead.”
 
“Look, Doug.”

“No, Tim, you look. Girls aren’t the only ones who can get raped. I’ve seen what happens to these kids. That man may have just been looking for a one nighter or a relationship. But you don’t know that. He may have been some psycho. You got lucky and got away. You might just as easy be in the morgue right now."

I could only agree. I know it was stupid I know it was wrong.

"You put yourself in danger and whether or not you know or understand it, you put him in   danger to.”
 
I would have loved to see the look on my own face. What was he talking about?

"Tim, you put him in that position of self defense. Do you know what I mean?"

I hadn’t thought of it that way. Hell, I hadn’t thought at all and I’ll just leave it at that.

“Yeah. I understand.”

"You should have called home. Your parents...."
 
“Dad. I only have a  Dad.”

“Where’s your mom?”

I was feeling trapped. I didn’t want to talk any more. It only got us into fights.

“Tim! Don’t do that.”

I must have reached up and picked at the scab on my brow. ‘Cause next I knew Doug grabbed my arm and pushed it away from my face.

 “Wait here.”

Yeah right. What was I going to do, go for a walk? A moment later and he came back with a plastic suitcase thing with medical sign on it. He took out some bandages and a couple tubes of stuff.

“Let me have a look, Tim.”

He tilted my head back and pulled off the other Band-Aid.

“This one could go without a Band-Aid, I guess. But your eyebrow will need to stay bandaged a while longer. “

He put some stuff on a cotton ball and ...

“Ouch...Shit. <hiss>...that stings man.”

I tried to pull back.  I am no match for Hercules. I was held tight and not able to move away from the sting.

“Sorry, Sport. It stings because you opened the cut. It wouldn’t have if you had left it alone.   Now hold still.”

I didn’t have a lot of choice. It didn’t take long for him to replace the bandage.

“Okay, all done. You didn’t answer me. Where is your mom?”

He sat back down on the other bunk. I didn’t say anything for a while.

“I never knew her.”

“Yeah? How come?”

Nosy bastard. I told him how my parents met in their first year of college. Got pregnant and then married. Before I had my first birthday my mom left dad a note. She said she could not do the marriage, baby thing.

“So your dad blames you?”

“No. He blames her. They have never spoken since.”

Doug laid out on the bunk with his head propped up with is arms. I got the feeling there will be no more interruptions. Not till he gets my life story, social security number, and DNA sample. I gave him the run down on how dad left me with my Grandparents while he tried to finish college. But it was too much for them to take care of a baby at their age. Dad had to drop out and went to work in Grandpa’s lumberyard. He runs it now.

“Okay. Your dad blames you for him having to give up on his dreams?”

I took a deep breath.  I was starting to get annoyed.  “No. Why do you keep asking me if my ol’man blames me for shit?”

“You ran away. I’m just trying to figure out why.”

“Oh.”

Sitting back up he leaned against the side of the cabin, crossing his arms. Smug jerk. It finally dawned on me that he was playing cat and mouse. Just call me Mickey.

“Look. My dad and I weren’t getting along. Okay. It got bad. So I left. Happy?”

“No. Tell me what happened.”

“I got in trouble for breaking a fucking curfew...

“Let's watch the language okay. Both of us. Deal?”

I nodded yes.

 “Go on."

“I got grounded. It’s like ever since I turned fifteen. It’s been like war with us."

“I snuck out and took the car when he was out on a dinner meeting. I got busted when I   came back.”

“What time was that?”

“Uh. I dunno. Around three am.“

“Dad hit the roof. Total melt down.”

“I can imagine, what happened then?”

“Things just got out of control. We started fighting, and he hit me.”

“What do you mean. *Hit you*?”

“He slapped me..hard.”

“Why?”

God, I knew he was gonna ask that. I’ve gone over all this before. Each time I realize more and more. I’m just a fucking idiot.  I told him about the fight. About dad telling me that it was his house and if I wanted to live there and all that shit. And what I said about not caring about his rules and I hated living there.

Doug just stared. He leaned his big body closer to me. Dude knew how to intimidate.
He stood up abruptly. Opened his mouth to say something, closed it. Opened it.  Okay, this is new. Can’t be good. He looked like he was getting mad again.

“Let me get this straight. You have been away from home nearly three months, eating out of garbage cans and sleeping on the beach. Putting yourself in dangerous situations all because you had a fight with daddy?”

Before I could answer him he kept going.

“Sport, I’d a done more than slap your face if I had been him. You had it coming.  When was the last time he warmed your butt?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I was trying to keep my own temper calm. I just wasn’t up to another fight. I kept losing anyway.

“I don’t know. Thirteen maybe.”
 
“Well if you ask me he stopped way too soon.”

“No one fuck’n asked you!”

Well that calm lasted all of ten seconds. I waited for the storm to hit.

“Sport, you need a reality check.”

“Fuck you, Doug. The last three months have been a fucking reality check!  Don’t even go there. I know I fucked up okay."

“Tim, watch the... "

“*Fuck* the language okay. I don’t give a shit. My life is in the fucking toilet, I know that!"
I just put my head back in my hands before I lost it.

“Your life is in the *toilet* only because you won’t climb out. Why won’t you just call home? Tim, I think you're afraid to face the music. Afraid to admit you were wrong and deal with the consequences. What ‘s a little pride and *deserved* punishment  compared to the rest of your life? Really, what’s the worst that can happen?"

Every thing he said was what I had tried not to think of, deal with. Tears were stinging my eyes.

“Sport? What is the worst that can happen?”

I looked up. I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t make myself admit he was right.

“Get grounded? Lose privileges? Oh, and heaven forbid, your dad beat your butt. Noooo you would rather trade a punishment that is over by morning for one that has lasted three    fucking months..”

He walked away and into the galley. I guess he wants me to think over his words. I rolled over on the bunk.  I rolled up in a ball. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. I felt his hand on my shoulder. I rolled back over to look at him. Doug handed me his cell phone. I wasn’t ready for that.

“Call him, Tim.”

“No.”

“Why the hell not. You want to go home, you know you do.”

He was right, I did. Very badly.

“If I call him he’ll be here tomorrow.”

“And the down side?”

“I’m not ready for that. I need to think. Work some stuff out. Okay?”

Shaking his head he walked back to the galley.

“C’mon, Sport, let’s talk about this over dinner.”

This man could cook. We had steak, potatoes and some kind of salad. Only Doug handed me my plate already with my steak cut up in small cubes.

“Hey! What’s with the Gerber shit.”

“You better clean up that mouth before you talk to your dad.”

“I told you.... "

He cut me off. He’s good at that.

“I cut up your steak so you won’t choke while you inhale your food. I know what you told   me.  Now I’m telling you. Your going home. Fine. you won’t call your dad. I don’t understand it but for now I will respect it.  So here is the deal.  We have most of  tomorrow  here to have some fun . Then we go back and I take you home. “

I almost choked on that. He just gave me a glass of milk and smiled. When I got my choking under control I started to argue. He just puffed himself up. Like he wasn’t big enough already snd got that stern look again.

“You're only fifteen, your place is home, not on the street. I know you think you're grown up. All teenagers do. But you're not...plain and simple.

“There’s kids younger than me out there. They seem to do all right."

Putting down his glass he took his napkin and wiped his mouth. Staring at me, his eyes got that stormy look. I should have kept my mouth shut.

“Yeah? Think so?"

I didn’t really know how to answer. If I said yes, boom: argument. He didn’t wait for my answer.

“Those kids are pimping themselves or being pimped, doing or selling drugs. Jumped   into gangs that they’ll never get out of, not alive. No jobs. None that are legal, anyway.
Moving from one flea flop to another. Many won’t ever see 18 let alone 21. It’s one thing for an adult to be on the street. But you babies have no business out there. No clue what's around the bend. Nothing, zero, zilch. And you don’t have the excuse most do, Sport. Your home life ain’t all that bad. Hell, it’s paradise in comparison. The streets are a dead end.  You have an out. I’ll bet your dad is worried as hell about you. No doubt making himself sick over that fight."

I was losing my appetite. Hard to do for someone who hadn’t eaten real regular.

“But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it, Tim. Make him pay for slapping you, for treating you like a child."

God, I was beginning to hate Doug. Did he have to always be right? He made me see and think about things I didn’t want to. I felt like a total shit. Choked me up thinking about Dad.

“Tim, you are a child. No, don’t argue. You are just a fifteen-year-old *boy* not a man.
A boy who still needs his dad, his dad’s rules to keep him safe and it’s clear to me, regular ass whippings to keep you out of trouble are needed. You have no say in this. Tomorrow night you go home. By the way where is home?"

Ha.. boy, is he in for a shocker.  “Nevada.”

That shut him up. Now what,  Mr. Muscle?

“Fine. Day after tomorrow we go to Nevada.”

I lost my appetite completely. Doug just got up and took the plates. While his back was turned I got up and went topside. I felt sick. Heavy shit for a *kid* to think about.

“Tim! Lights out, Sport. Let’s go.”

I did feel tired. We both climbed in our bunks. I didn’t say much and he seemed cool with that. I laid awake. I couldn’t sleep. I was tired but I just couldn't drift off.

“Tim? You still awake?

“Yeah.”

 “It’s hard isn’t it?

“What?”

“Fighting with yourself.”

It is hard...too hard to keep it up any more. I’m not doing well on my own. Nothing has turned out like it was suppose to. I want to go home. I’m ready to go home.

“Okay?”

“Okay? Okay what, Tim?"

“Okay. I want to go home."

The day flew by. One minute, I’m learning to snorkel and spear fish. The next, I’m helping Doug tie off the boat in the harbor. It took us a couple hours to clean out the boat. Doug may be a neat freak. I’m almost afraid to see his house. It’s hard to believe that just two days ago I was thinking that I’ll never go home again. Tomorrow I’ll be on the road home.  Doug tried to get me to call home again.  No. I don’t know what I’d say.

“Why, Tim?  Why don’t you just call him.”

“Dude. You don’t know him. He’ll tell me to stay here and just come and get me.”

“So?”

<sigh> “I left on my own. I want to walk back on my own. Get it?”

Doug just shook his head.  “You're not exactly going back on your own.”

“Well... I could take the bus.”
 
“Oh no! No way in hell, Sport! This way I know you’ll get home. Not wimp out half way
there and get off the bus somewhere. But I guess I can understand you wanting to go back  under  your own power.”

We left the docks. I said a silent good bye to the ocean. It was one of the few things I’d miss. Doug had a cool truck. A ‘98 Bronco. Gloss black with lots of chrome, fat tires and custom rims, dark tinted windows. Under his “wolfman” vanity plates, was a plastic license plate, “Wolf patrol."  Dude, had a thing for his last name.

“Sweet!”

"Glad you like it. You're going to get to spend the all day tomorrow in it."

He laughed. I got in. Spotless, the interior was spotless. Doug loaded the back with his stuff and his medical box from the boat.

“Do you take that every where?”

“Sure do.  You never know. Came in handy this time, didn’t it”

I just nodded. Doug turned the key and the Bronco rumbled deeply.

“What you got under this bad boy?”

Doug put on his sunglasses and gave me a macho look.  “Flo-master exhaust, yeah bay-bay!”

We didn’t talk much as he drove us through parts of L.A. I didn’t know existed. I feel weird. I can’t put my finger on what’s wrong. Nerves maybe.

“So have you been to Disneyland, yet?”

“No, I didn’t have the money. It was too far anyway. It’s in Anaheim, right? I’ve only seen   Hollywood and the beach. Not the better part of Hollywood either.”

Doug pulled onto the freeway. Scared the shit out of me. It was like going from the back roads of home to the Autobon. Cars and trucks were weaving in and out of the lanes like a race track. A packed one.
 
“Shit..Dude! What a bunch of fuc..uh.. idiots. Man where’s a cop when you need one?”

“Chill out, Tim. This is normal LA traffic. You think this is something. You should see it at the  height of  rush hour.”

“Where we going? I though you lived by the beach?”

“I do. I just thought we’d take a little side trip. What's a visit to California without seeing Disneyland?”

I’m stunned.

“Hey, Timothy McKay! You’ve run away from home. Attempted a robbery, Acted like a complete asshole. Whacha gonna do next?   I’m going to Disneyland!”

Doug was laughing his ass off at my commercial parody. He had me laughing, too. It’s been a long time since I felt like laughing. I looked at the clock on his cd deck. It was 6:30pm.  “Isn’t it kinda late?”

“Nope. The park stays open till midnight. We have time that you can get a small taste of it anyway.”

On to Part Two of California Dreaming
 
 

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