Wyatt Klinker Section 4

I've hit a bit of a wall, I just need to push through it. I sometimes have days like that. In actuality I had a lot of distractions and wasn't able to write like I wanted to. I got to our sitter's house yesterday to find that Balin had just started getting sick and was throwing up all over the place. The little guy was in bad shape. He's staying home today with Carol volunteering to watch him. I really think he's alright now. Angie said he was eating like a little pig this morning.

Actually Balin isn't a very good excuse. Truth is, the part of the story I'm working on is very awkward and I'm struggling to spit out the words. I know how it is going to play out, but writing it is difficult. There is a certain literary value I'm trying to capture with the story and I need to be careful not to contradict it. I've already seen areas where Wyatt didn't actually act like Wyatt, and that bothers me. He is a very cerebral person, very observant. I want to portray his moments where he is impulsive as moments of great weakness. I think that if I was to go back after it is over I would do a lot of rewriting in order to capture the real Wyatt I want to portray. Anyway, it is a struggle during this portion and I want it to work, so it is taking some time. Now, that isn't to say I'm falling behind. I did write about 1300 words yesterday, putting me about 290 words off of my pace.

I plan on knocking out this next section tonight and getting into the next, which is an arc I'm really looking forward to. It is setting up a section that I think will surprise some people. Don't worry, I'm not going to turn Wyatt into a serial killer or send him off to some fantastic land with dragons and unicorns, but it is going to be a turn. I think it will do a lot to portray the person Wyatt is. In truth, the story was initially built around this upcoming section (a Chapter I will preliminarily call Earl). It should fall right around Chapter 11 or 12, just to give you perspective.

Anyway, here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear more comments if you have any to offer.

CHAPTER 5: SECRET

July sixteenth was a somber day for Wyatt. In his room above the garage at his aunt and uncle’s home he realized that this was the day he had originally been scheduled to fly home to Boston. Instead, he was unpacking his things again. He had traveled back east with his uncle to attend the memorial service for his mom and dad, and gather up some of his things to bring back to Chicago.
He remembered how empty his old house had seemed when he and his uncle had gone there.
“If there is anything of your parents’ that you want, get it now,” he remembered Uncle Rich telling him as they pulled up to the house. “The auctioneer is going to come in a do an inventory and make a list of everything to sell. If you don’t take it, it’s getting sold or thrown out.”
“What are they going to do with all of money they get from selling our stuff?” Wyatt had been curious.
“Well, my sister and her husband weren’t really very thoughtful about that part. Evidently you are set to inherit the entire estate, but it goes into a trust until you turn twenty-one. They’ve left very little to you directly. When I talked to the lawyer he assured me that in the very least they would release enough money for you to attend college, but that’s about it. It seems like they would have left something for Carla and me seeing as you have to live with us now,” Wyatt wasn’t sure that last part hadn’t been Uncle Rich talking to himself.
Wyatt hadn’t been sure whether getting his parents’ money was a good thing or not. He would have rather just moved back to Boston, but unfortunately no provision was made in the will for the house and all the belongings inside to go to him. To the letter of the law everything was sold except for those items of sentimental value claimed by the family. Uncle Rich had evidently decided that Wyatt’s mom’s jewelry and his dad’s coin collection had sentimental value to him.
Wyatt’s other uncle, Bernie, had come up from New Jersey and went through and took a couple of photo albums of his parents which Wyatt’s mom at meticulously arranged. She had been a fiend for scrap booking and the work she had done was incredible. Wyatt had made sure to take the remaining scrap books for himself.
They had spent the entire day at the house rifling through boxes in the basement, going through drawers and closets and packing up a few of Wyatt’s things. He had wanted to bring his bed and dresser, things that he was comfortable with, but Rich had told him no. The stuff in Chicago was good enough for him, even if these things held sentimental value.
In the end Wyatt had settled on a few of his books, his stereo, Playstation, and some of his clothes. The rest he left behind, never to see again. As he walked out the front door, his arms loaded with his stuff he looked back and felt a pang of sadness. The house, ever his sanctuary was no longer his. He was heading back to Chicago, where he had never felt comfortable.
The day after they had sorted through all their belongings at the house Wyatt and his uncle had went to the memorial service. There had been a lot of people there that Wyatt hadn’t known and relatively few family members. Everyone however took a moment to offer their condolences to the young man, shaking his hand, patting his back, hugging him and generally saying how sorry they were for his loss.
Wyatt had found the most difficulty in saying goodbye to his friends, particularly Steve, who had shown up in his red wheelchair, pushed faithfully by his mother. It had been difficult for either of them to say anything and after a few awkward moments they simply hugged each other and said goodbye, promising to write each other and even visit if it was possible.
Wyatt had been gone six short days though it had seemed like an eternity. Each day had been difficult for one reason or another. It was a less than memorable trip, though as he lay on his bed, in the room above the garage in the suburbs of Chicago, his mind was back on those few short days in Boston. He had missed his house so much that it tore at him just to be there again. He had felt strange standing in the kitchen, absent his mother who seemingly was just another fixture. The chair in the den where his dad wiled away the evenings, watching sports or some documentary on the Discovery Channel had sat empty. Thoughts of that made him smile as he recalled tucking the television remote into his book bag: Uncle Rich had told him to take stuff with sentimental value.
A house is a house he thought to himself, though he found himself grieving more for that place than he did his parents. For this Wyatt felt disgusted. He should be bawling his eyes out over the loss of his parents. Sure, he had shed some tears, but like the day he had heard of the accident, fear for what was to come had been the overwhelming emotion that poured over him. Now, it was dread over spending his days trapped in this room, trapped in Chicago living with surrogate parents that certainly didn’t want him.
“What am I going to do?” he thought to himself. “maybe I should just leave, go find a place for myself.”
Wyatt wasn’t an overly emotional person, but as he lay there on his bed in the growing gloom, with the sun going down on Chicago, he wept. He wept for the life he was living. He wept for the friends he had left behind, but most of all, he wept for the future he thought he had had in Boston.
It wasn’t like it was anything special. He had enrolled at a local community college with the intention of taking a few classes just to get a feel for things. He was not sure what he was going to do. He knew that school wasn’t really his thing, in fact it bored him to death, but he had to do something. He remembered arguing with his parents when they insisted he either go to school or find a job. Planning was never Wyatt’s strong suit.
Wyatt had decided that community college with give him something to do and get his parents off his back. Besides that, he could hang out with Steve, who had also enrolled. It wasn’t as if they were inseparable, but being with his wheelchair bound friend made him happy and Wyatt had always felt better about himself when Steve was around.
Now that was gone, a dream to never be realized. Not that it was much of a dream, but it was a snapshot of the future that Wyatt could grasp. He liked control, and having a direction to move towards gave him that. Now he had lost it, now it was all gone.
There was no telling how long Wyatt had cried before the tension and exhaustion from flying back from Boston earlier that day overtook him.
It was two thirty-four Wyatt noticed on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand beside his bed when he felt someone tugging on his shoe, attempting to pull it off. With a bit of effort it slipped from his foot and Wyatt heard it clunk to the carpeted floor as it was dropped. The other had already been removed prior to his waking.
“What…?” he asked the specter that had pulled off his shoe.
“It’s me, it’s alright, just relax,” he heard Lindsey’s voice. “I was worried about you. I heard you crying earlier and I felt so bad. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he replied, “What are you doing in my room?”
“I got up to use the bathroom and when I peaked in I noticed you were still dressed. I figured I’d just come in and tuck you in, or whatever,” she told him, “You miss your parents, huh?”
Wyatt didn’t know what to say, so he lied, “Yeah, it’s tough. I miss them a lot.”
“Do you want to talk about it,” she asked, her outline coming into view in the dark.
“No, I’m okay, just a little sad,” he replied.
He felt her arm on his shoulder as he laid there, her small hand immediately sending a shiver up his back. With his back to her, he felt the bed compress as she sat down beside him.
“I can’t imagine what you are going through, Wyatt. I could never bear losing either of my parents, let alone both of them,” she smoothed his shoulder with her hand.
“I’m okay,” he repeated. His heart had started to race and he had to force himself to relax. “She’s just here to comfort me,” he thought to himself, “this isn’t anything to worry about.”
Yet his thoughts turned to panic when he felt her lean down and kissed his neck right behind his ear. Before he could do or say anything, she stretched out and laid beside him, her arm draped around his waist, her mouth right at the back of his neck.
“Its okay, Wyatt, I’m here,” she whispered to him.
He could feel her body pressed against his, her torso conforming to him, fitting together on the small bed. Her hand stroked his stomach and chest as his heart raced a mile a minute. He felt paralyzed with fear, yet a part of him enjoyed the feeling. It had been a long while since anyone had actually held him, and never had he felt the intimacy of a woman. He was hypnotized by the sensation, and while his mind screamed how wrong this was, he justified to himself that she was simply comforting him at a time when he was grieving.
Lindsey had an athletic build, and as she pressed against him, Wyatt felt the firmness of her body. The muscles of her bare thighs brushed against the hairs on the back of his legs and sent goose bumps across his body. He was acutely aware of every movement of her hand as it played across his torso. He drew in a deep breath as his dipped towards his waist line, only to change direction and move back up to his chest. She was driving him crazy, but still he continued to lie there, wondering how far she would take this.
“I’m sooooo sorry Wyatt,” she whispered in his ear, “is there anything I can do?”
Before he could utter a response he felt the flicker of her tongue as it fluttered across his earlobe. His eyes rolled back into his head as his body absorbed the torrents of pleasure that washed over him.
Pulling at his chest she rolled him towards her, and on to his back. She immediately draped herself across him, her leg entangling itself with his as she found his mouth with hers.
Wyatt was powerless as he allowed her to savagely kiss him, her body grinding against his. He couldn’t even force his arms to wrap around her. It was as if a paralysis had taken hold of him and he was nothing more than a puppet for her to play with. As she kissed him his eyes were opened, focused on nothing but the darkness. This was so wrong, yet his resolve had cracked, broken like a dam strained by too much water.
He like he had been broken, yet there was no regret. Upon this realization he began to kiss her back. The paralysis immediately lifted and he wrapped his arms around her. They kissed for a moment before Wyatt rolled her onto her back, allowing him to take a position of control.
They continued to kiss, Wyatt’s mouth playing over her neck and the line of her jaw. He felt so alive has her nails dug into her back. She gasped multiple times in pleasure as he tickled her ear with his tongue.
Wyatt couldn’t believe what he was feeling. It was so incredible. The air itself felt electric.
He took a breath, and laid there beside her, looking up at the ceiling. She then reached down, grasped his hand in hers and guided it up her body. She let out a whimper as his fingers played across her breast.
Wyatt simply shuddered. He laid there thinking, “I can’t believe this is happening.” He allowed his hand to kneed her breast as she let out a slight moan. Turning on his side he brought his other hand up and explored her chest with both. She then lifted her head and kissed him again, her tongue wrestling with his as he continued to massage her body.
When their mouths separated he could feel her staring at him in the dark.
“Wyatt?” she asked.
“Yes?” he replied as he allowed his hand to slip beneath the long t-shirt she wore as pajamas.
“I really want you,” she answered back.
Wyatt wasn’t sure what light came on in his head. Perhaps it was the recognition of Lindsey’s voice, there in the dark, asking him to ravage her, perhaps it was a moment of divine intervention, but immediately Wyatt felt sick to his stomach. Pulling his hands off of her he immediately rolled over and sat up on the bed, reaching for the lamp on the light stand.
The room flooded with light and both of them squinted as their eyes adjusted. When he could finally see, Wyatt saw his cousin, her t-shirt pulled up, revealing a pair of pink and lime green polka dotted panties. Her flat stomach and navel could be seen and Wyatt forced himself to turn away, to not look at her as the object of passion he had allowed her to become.
“What’s the matter?” she asked him, a hint of anger in her voice. “What’s the matter, Wyatt?”
“I can’t do this,” he explained. “Lindsey, this isn’t right, you’re my cousin.”
Wyatt looked back at her, even though she hadn’t moved. He could feel his strength and resolve returning. No longer did he yearn for her body, instead he was disgusted at himself for what he allowed himself to do. She had controlled him and Wyatt was angry.
“Lindsey, you need to go,” he commanded, reaching for her hand, and pulling her up off the bed.
“What’s the matter with you?” she asked, holding her ground, refusing to allow him to guide her from the room.
“This is wrong Lindsey, we can’t do this,” he told her sternly.
“You weren’t so sure of yourself ten minutes ago,” she rebutted, causing Wyatt to blush. Her tone immediately softened, “is there something wrong with me?”
“No, it’s not that, it’s just…” he stammered.
She moved back towards him, a smile creeping across her face, “You know you want me.”
He turned away from her, “No Lindsey. I don’t want you, now go away.”
Wyatt refused to turn back around, even when he heard a sob come from the girl’s mouth. He stood looking at the blank wall until he heard the door close, then allowed himself to sit down on the bed.
Wyatt was shaking as he buried his hands in his face and wept again, wondering what he had just done.

August 3rd - Dear Starlog

It’s been a couple of weeks since the thing with Lindsey and all I can say is that it is getting pretty weird around here. For about a week you could tell she was pissed at me. She wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me. Aunt Carla had even noticed and asked her why she was so angry. She told her that I kept leaving the toilet seat up and it was making her mad. I think that kind of tempered things for her because the next day she started acting nice to me again. Maybe she got sick of being mad. My hope is that she finally realized how wrong it was to do in the first place.
I figure I’ll just avoid her for the next few weeks until I leave for school. I was able to go through some late registration deal and get into the University of Illinois-Chicago. The campus is right downtown. I was going to stay here and commute, but Aunt Carla wanted to make sure that I got to enjoy everything the college had to offer. Truthfully it didn’t take much convincing for me to decide to live in the dorms. For some odd reason I don’t think this thing with Lindsey is quite over with.
I can move into the dorms on the twenty-seventh, though my guess is moving isn’t going to take all that much. It’s not like I have much to begin with. I left most of my stuff back in Boston for the auctioneer to sell. I figure I could move in about a half hour before classes start and still have plenty of time.
I’m taking twelve credit hours the first term. Truthfully I’m not sure what is going on. My uncle had to pull some strings to get me accepted and enrolled considering how late I was applying. He knows one of the trustees and was able to feed him the hardship line seeing as my parents died in a bus crash a month and a half ago. They did have problems finding classes for me though. I guess everyone else registered way early, I mean in May or April, so I didn’t have much to choose from. I ended up taking college algebra, regional geography, intro to literature, and art appreciation. Looking over that schedule I honestly can tell you I’m not the least bit excited.
I’m kind of excited about going to college though. This place has been nothing but a tomb lately. Lindsey is never home, not that she would talk to me anyway, and I guess Aunt Carla has gotten tired of paying Chaya overtime because she doesn’t come in on weekends anymore and stays pretty busy on the weekdays. I talk to her once in awhile and even help her clean up just to give me something to do. I should go into the city, but I’m horrible with directions and would probably end up lost on the south side and end dead or something. I figure I’ll be living downtown soon enough and will be able to figure out my way around once I move.