Josh’s Journey

By

Dragonwriter

In loving memory: I have known two great Shamans in my life. One was a practicing shaman, known and loved by millions, Native American and not. The other was a quiet, thoughtful psychologist that while not loved by millions, was adored by the hundreds of people whose lives were strengthened by his power. I dedicate this story of my life to Soarrin Rain, THE Shaman in the band Shaman and to Alejhandro Guevarra. Both men showed me the path my life was about to take and held my hand as I walked down it. If not for them, I would never have been anything more than just the skinny lonely gay kid this story opens with...

Chapter One: The Beginning

I don't know just WHY I was in the club. I liked dancing all right, but Mitch, my room mate, only came to get wasted. Actually, HE was the reason I was there: someone had to keep Mitch from killing himself. Mitch and I went way back - all 22 years of our lives. We grew up in the same small town in Eastern Alberta, both middle children in large families. As I sat at the table watching to make sure that Mitch didn’t pick any fights he couldn't win, I was writing to my sixteen year-old younger brother, Jem. I wrote him almost daily; long letters about Seattle, the Cascade Mountains, and the people here. I told him about the dive I lived in, my dog Crystal and my job.

I worked construction. I liked the job; it was no harder than growing up on a horse ranch. I had always been good at fixing things. "Let Josh mend the fences" was a standard saying in our house. I was good at fixing other things than just fences. By the time, I was 13; I was six feete tall and broad shouldered. All the Sanclere men are broad shouldered. Now at 22, I was 6'2"; slender build with big hands and feet that made me look gangly. My father was a French Canadian. My mother's grandmother had been a Bannock Indian who had run off from the reservation with her white lover. My grandmother had dark hair but fair skin, my mother was darker but not enough that people thought she was a Native American until she told them. My older brothers were varying shades of dark white/light brown and my two sisters and youngest brother were blonde and fair. I got all the Indian genes. My skin tone was coppery, darkening even more when tanned, which I was at the moment since I had worked outside all summer and it now being September. I had black hair that was shoulder length and bright green eyes. My brother Rafe and I both had high cheekbones and prominent noses. I like to smile and my mouth, so I am told, is perfectly shaped for smiling.

“You’re very busy for someone at a club.” I looked up into a twinkling pair of green eyes that took my breath away. They were in a longish, almost feminine, face surrounded by a mop of shoulder length dark curls.

“Hi,” he said holding out his hand. “I’m Kel Kabrey.”

“Josh Sanclere” I said taking his hand. His hand was long and delicate and so thin I could feel the bones. There was a silver ring on his thumb. He looked to be a shade under 6’ tall and very thin. I wondered if he had been sick. He didn’t look like a drug user and after nearly three years of living in the “not so nice” parts of Seattle, I felt pretty confident in my assessment. He was wearing a silver shirt, black vest and black jeans. I gestured to him to sit and he did.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Kel asked.

“Oh, I don’t feel like it right now.” I shrugged. He leaned forward and rested his chin on the palm of his hand. Kel cocked his head slightly to the side. I smiled watching him.

“Such a beautiful smile,” he said. “I have been asking around about you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He chuckled. “They say I’m wasting my time talking to you. Apparently, you have a reputation for being stubborn and unnaturally attached to your friend there.” He waved a hand toward Mitch, who was talking to someone at a nearby table. “No one understands what you see in him. The general consensus is that you are a waste of my time.” He grinned brightly.

“Stubborn?” I said. “Bah, these queens are just pissy that I won’t hop in the sack with every guy that looks at me, or flatters me!” I scowled. “And Mitch is my oldest friend. We’ve been through a lot of crap together.”

“Such a sexy scowl,” Kel smiled. I blushed. “Ah well, I am on serious rebound right now so I am not looking for a quick lay. Tell me about yourself. I'm told you are a Canuck. And frankly, that’s about all I could find out.”

I studied his face. I am a very private person. I don’t care for small talk. However, there was something so open about his face. He was looking genuinely interested and rather amused at my indecision. I found myself unable to stop smiling and told him about hometown, my family and myself.

“Must be hard to be so far away from them,” he looked off into the depths of the club. “My only family is my Mom, stepfather and step brother. They live in Portland.” He paused. “My stepfather’s job is there.” A shadow crossed his face. “I have never been terribly close to my Mom anyway.”

“I’m impressed,” he went on “working construction. That’s one tiring job. I am such a wuss.” He grinned deprecatingly. “I get worn out sitting at my computer for days on end writing. I’m a writer. And actually have some books on the downtown store shelves.”

I flushed. “I’m sorry. I haven’t heard of you.” His eyes seemed to be laughing at me. “I do read. I read quite a lot.” I protested feeling foolish and wondering why it seemed so important to assure him, I was a reader.

“Do you read science fiction?” he asked.

“No.” I answered. “But I bet Jem has read your books, he's my baby brother. Hardly a baby though, he's sixteen.” I smiled thinking about Jem.

“You miss him, don’t you?” Kel’s voice was soft.

“Yes.” I paused. “I miss him terribly. He is my favorite brother.”

Kel straightened up. He nodded and stood up.

”Well there he goes.” I thought, but instead he held out his hand.

“Come on. You need to dance, it will help ease the pain.” His eyes were impish. “Besides I want to see how you move on the dance floor.”

We danced for several songs. So close to me that I found he was probably more 5’10 than 6’. Kel was very loose jointed almost a rag doll. I grinned watching him turn and twist himself around me.

"The serpent in Eden" I said softly.

He looked at me appraisingly; I shrugged. "I was raised a Catholic. Some images get so ingrained that they never really leave you. The last time I was in a church the priest was preaching against sin."

"Oh oh," Kel watched my face closely.

I shrugged again. "When he got to the part about homosexuality, I stood up and quoted several passages of Matthew about love and tolerance. Then turned and walked out." I grinned suddenly. "I remember hearing Jem, he was only about ten at the time, yell ' You are an evil man! My brother is the best, most loving person on this planet. Wait for me Josh.' By the time I had reached the door I had Jem, Anita, my baby sister, Mom, Rafe and Erik, two of my brothers, and my Dad right beside me."

"Damn" Kel whispered. "You are a lucky man." I nodded. We returned to the table. I scanned the crowd for Mitch, but I couldn't see him.

"My Dad doesn't understand, but he tries. And unlike my oldest brother John, he sees a person as more than the sum of his parts."

"If that makes any sense," I added as an afterthought. I scanned the crowd again. Where was Mitch?

"It does." Kel followed my eyes. "You really do care about him, don't you?" At first, I thought he meant Dad and was puzzled then I realized he was talking about Mitch. "I don't suppose you'd go out if I asked?"

I stared in surprise at him. "ME!?" I thought.

He nodded looking disappointed. "I thought so. Okay, I'll push off then." He stood up.

"NO! Wait!" I reached out and grabbed his wrist. It felt impossibly fragile in my hand.

"I could break this by just squeezing," I thought. "Sit down, please." Kel sat down again. His eyes were appraising.

"I think you misunderstand. Mitch isn't my boyfriend." Kel let out his breath in an audible sigh. "Mitch is my oldest friend. We were the only two "out" gays in our town. We have defended each other for a long time. He hasn't always been trying to kill himself. I just think he has given up." I looked out across the crowd; I was getting worried. "One day I fear I won't be there."

Kel shivered looking vaguely haunted. "Maybe you better go look for him then. I'll catch up to you a bit later... we can talk some more."

We both stood up and moved off into the crowd. As I looked for Mitch, I thought about Kel. There was something about him that attracted me. Both pretty boys and masculine males had propositioned me in the time I had been living in Seattle, and a couple of them I had actually taken up on their offers out of sheer loneliness, but mostly I turned them down. I wanted a relationship not just a lay. I have absolutely nothing against sex, its one of my favorite activities, but it's so empty when it's just to get off. I wanted someone who stays there after the noise and is there when I wake up and... and.. yeah I'm a romantic.

Kel wasn’t the most beautiful person I’d ever met. That honor belonged to my best friend Alexander, Xan for short. Xan was tall, blonde and sultry, with eyes the color of the prairie sky after a good rainfall and thick lashes that weighed his lids down giving him that languid after sex look. He was deaf; he could talk a bit but preferred to sign. I couldn’t seem to get the hang of signing, but somehow we managed to communicate just fine. I had just got to the point of asking Xan out when he showed up at my apartment all excited over a guy he had met. I had been supportive… but I had cried a long time inside. Still, Kel was pretty: an oval shaped face with soft, almost feminine contours and a wide full-lipped mouth that looked so soft and kissable. My fingers itched to comb through his mop of tangled curls.

Kel was one of the few I had met who willingly listened to me ramble on about home and my siblings. He hadn’t cut me off to talk about himself or to suggest we “go somewhere more private.” He had appeared to be genuinely interested in what I said. That said a lot more to me than a buff body or a gorgeous face. He had told me I had a beautiful smile and a sexy scowl but he said them as compliments not to flatter me. I was definitely hoping to catch up with him later.

I talked to several people and finally determined that Mitch had left with another guy. I swore and hoped that he would be careful. Mitch was so self-destructive: between drinking, drugging and casual sex, he was going to catch something sooner or later. I just tried my damnedest to make sure it was later rather than sooner. Being so isolated in our small town and so alone had created in Mitch a source of self-hatred that try as hard as I could I could not rid him of it.

There really wasn’t much reason to stay any longer at the club. Mitch was gone and I couldn’t see Kel, so I collected my notepad off the table and headed for the door. I had hoped that Kel’s number would be written on the pad somewhere but there was nothing there except my letter to Jem. Feeling somewhat disappointed and strangely forsaken, I left the club. The Seattle sky was clear for a change and the air cool. I shivered and looked up. It was an hour later in Alberta, Jem would be asleep but it was still comforting to know he could see the same stars.

“If we could travel to the stars - what would we find?” said a soft voice behind me. I turned to see Kel leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest hugging his shoulders. His face was slightly flushed. Without thinking about what I was doing, I reached out and lightly brushed my fingers across his cheek. He flushed deeper red.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “You look flushed. You haven’t had too much to drink, have you? Are you driving? Do you need a lift home?" I was so happy to see him I couldn’t quite shut up.

Kel shook his head. “I can’t drink. It messes with my medications and really screws me up.” He smiled up at me. “Have you ever tried to push through a solid mass of bodies that suddenly for no apparent reason seems to have lost the ability to MOVE aside?”

I grinned and he grinned back. “I saw you leaving. Good thing you’re so tall.” He reached out and rested his hand on my arm. “I didn’t want you to leave without at least asking for your number. And asking if you’d like to go out.”

“I think I’d like that a lot. When?”

“Monday?” Kel asked. “Evening?”

“I am working until 6 then I would have to go home and shower and clean up. I wouldn’t be ready until nearly 8.” I answered.

“Tell you what - if I promise to be demure, chaste and honorable would you like to come out to my house for dinner after work. You can shower there. I promise to take the camera out of the shower.” He grinned at me impishly.

I laughed. “It’s a deal! Give me directions.” Kel told me how to get to his place. He lived in a small suburb on the eastern side of Seattle, not the most upscale but a whole lot better than the area I lived in.

“Writing must pay well,” I said.

He chuckled. “Not THAT well. I grew up in that house; it was paid off before Mom and Joe moved to Portland.” Again, there was that haunted look on his face. He shook his head sharply and smiled at me. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to your car, Josh.”

The sound of my name on his lips made me shiver. I was definitely aroused and very intrigued.

“I forgot to ask earlier, how old are you?” Kel asked.

“Twenty-two. I am sure you are a bit older. You sound more... experienced.” I finished lamely.

He laughed. “I am a whole whopping 28. But I think I’ve lived several lifetimes in those 28 years,” he said soberly. The hair on my neck rose. “Josh hears ghosts,” my mother was fond of saying. And I was hearing one now. “July 15, 1962 to be exact.”

“Barely a month later than mine: June 3, 1968.” I brushed my hand lightly across his arm. There is something so comforting in the lightest touch, so soul reaffirming. Kel shivered again. He let out a low barely audible moan.

"I think I am going to have trouble being - what did I say- chaste, demure and honorable Monday," Kel whispered. " Maybe I better get you to your car before I throw you down right here in the parking lot."

I swallowed and nodded. We walked side by side in silence. It was a comfortable silence. No words needed. Near the building was a row of motorcycles. Kel pat one on the seat.

"My baby." He said with a grin.

"Holy-! A Silver Phantom III! 69 or 70?"

Kel pat the seat again. "1969... very low serial number."

"WOW!" I was ecstatic. "There was only something like 400 of these things made. How did you find one?"

"Lots of searching and calling and tracking leads. Most of it I paid someone to do. But I found it, parked in a garage rusting. Cost a small fortune to restore; thank God I don't have a mortgage to pay!" He laughed.

"My brother Erik would go nuts. Heck, I'm going nuts myself."

Kel grinned. "I'll take you for a ride on Monday."

"Cool."

My car wasn't far away, tucked in between two F350s was my candy apple red 1968 Mustang. Kel whistled and leaned in to get a good look.

"It looks like I am not the only classic car fiend here. I have a ‘69 cougar at home as well." I whistled. He grinned at me. "Construction must pay pretty good."

"It only cost me 3 grand. One of the guys at work was splitting up with his wife and wanted to get rid of it before she could haul it into court. Dad sent me the money and I paid him back." I ran my fingers lightly across the front fender. "It needed some work under the hood, but I have a friend who is a mechanic. We have spent our weekends up to our elbows in engine."

"Cool." Kel said and I nodded. Silence stretched between us.

“Okay. Well umm, I guess I’ll see you Monday.” Kel stumbled over his words. I had to admit I was feeling awkward as well.

"Wait a second." I leaned against the side of the Mustang and put my notepad on the roof. The parking lot was fairly well lit so writing my name, address and phone number on the pad was simple.

"I hadn't even noticed you're a leftie!" Kel said in surprise.

"I suppose my subconscious felt I should be on the wrong side of everything." I ripped off the paper and handed it to Kel.

"You have beautiful handwriting. So small; not at all a typical leftie."

"Thanks. I've worked hard to make it legible." I looked at Kel and he looked at me. He folded the paper and put it in his vest pocket. Neither of us seemed to have anything to say, or perhaps too much to say to put it into words.

I'm not sure why I did it; I don't get physically close to people right off. As I said before I am a very private person. I keep my feelings and thoughts to myself. However, it felt right; I leaned forward and kissed Kel. He looked surprised and started to pull away. I caught his hip with my left hand preventing him from moving any further away. He leaned in toward me.

I pulled him close. His hips felt terribly bony under my hands, but his lips were soft, lush and sweet tasting. I chewed on his lower lip and he moaned into my mouth. My tongue teased his upper lip, flicking back and forth across it. Kel's tongue touched mine and fire roared down my back. I was suddenly hard.

"Kel," I said my voice rough from emotion. He made a soft noise.

My tongue slipped into his mouth and coiled itself around his tongue. I felt like I wanted to absorb him into my body: I couldn't get him close enough. My hands slid up his back and pulled him tighter. Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered how pathetically thin he was; it was almost like hugging a bundle of sticks. I was suddenly terrified of breaking him. I tried to step back but his arms tightened around my waist and held me captive. Deeper and deeper I devoured his mouth. His tongue explored the whole of my mouth, and then returned to coil around my tongue again.

I grabbed a double handful of his shirt and pulled up. His back felt like a washboard. Kel pulled his head back, a panicked look on his face. I ran my fingers lightly up his back; I could have counted every one of his ribs. And over the ribs were a mass of twisted lines that could only be scar tissue. I jerked back in surprise.

"Josh." Kel looked scared, like a small boy caught doing something he knew he shouldn't be doing.

I leaned in and kissed him again. I'm not the type to pry, he could tell me about those scars when he felt comfortable enough with me to confide. Though I'm not idiot and I had a few beginning suspicions. Kel's hands framed my face pulling me closer. Somehow we managed not to throw each other to the ground. I broke off the kiss and stood looking at him. He was quietly watching me. In the half-light, I could see his eyes glittering and the flash of something in one ear.

"You can tell me Monday - or not if that's what you want." I touched his face. Kel leaned into my hand. I curved my hand to fit the shape of his cheek.

"Take care, Kel."

"I will. You be careful, Josh." He took a half a step backwards and said "Until Monday then."

I watched him walk the short distance to the club entrance. He disappeared inside and came out a moment later pulling on a leather jacket. Kel walked to his bike. While he unlocked his helmet, I unlocked and climbed into my car. We met at the exit. He waved and blew a kiss. I smiled. Then he gunned the bike, turned the opposite direction, and disappeared into the night. Oddly though he wasn't gone. I could still smell him and hear him. I could feel his ribs under my fingers. And hear his voice whisper, "Josh."