Through the Fire

By Cris Gutierrez

Abram knew Julian still loved him, but why he disappeared without a trace when he needed him the most was a puzzle he couldn’t piece together. Discarded like yesterday’s newspaper and forced to live on his own at the age of eighteen, Abram vows to leave San Antonio, and forget about Julian, forever. But what happens when Julian reappears in Abram’s life more than a year later ready to reclaim his love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Mar 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483445663

Book preview

Prologue

A bram heard the fatal footsteps treading down the hall towards his room then quickly jumped back into bed. He pulled the covers over his head. His heart was beating wildly like a drum in his chest. It was shortly after 7:00 a.m. the morning after his high school graduation, which neither of his parents bothered to attend, when his mother tore into his bedroom.

I want you out of this house, she said sharply with the fire of an erupting volcano in her eyes.

You’ve got one hour to gather your things and get out, her wicked words slashed into him.

Where am I supposed to go? Abram asked innocently, still half asleep.

You can go with your friend Julian, his mother responded quickly, her expression remaining impassive. And know that you’re both going to burn in hell together if you keep living the way you are, she yelled and slammed the door behind her causing the room to go deathly silent.

One hour, Abram repeated softly. That doesn’t give me much time, he murmured.

He sat up in his bed and pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs.

Now what do I do? he asked into the stale morning air. Then wiping the sleep from his eyes he crawled out of bed and softly tip-toed towards the door and placed his warm ear against the cold door. Through the faded wood he could hear the distant sounds of his parents laughing.

We’ve got him where we want him, he heard his mother snicker beneath his father’s rolling laugh. You should have seen the look on his face. Oh, he’ll be out of here before we get back, Abram heard her say before he heard the front door slam.

Again all he could hear was silence. Then Abram slowly walked towards the window and as expected, saw his parents zoom out of the driveway in their Ford ‘Galaxy 500’.

Going with Julian was out of the question, and Abram was well aware of that. He hadn’t seen or heard from Julian for several days; he hadn’t even made it to graduation. Why, even Abram’s best friend Margie with her degree in snooping around had not been able to figure out why Julian had stopped going to school.

Could he have found someone else? Abram wondered. It was quite possible and wouldn’t be difficult at all for him to do. Julian was undoubtedly the most handsome and sexiest guy in school, and he had a body to match his looks. Although he was short he was built like a true warrior-broad shoulders and narrow hips. He had light-skin and breath-taking brown eyes. Julian’s hair was coal-black, and he parted it on the left-hand side. His teeth were straight and white as snow, and his smile was nothing short of a map to the stars. It was no wonder every girl in school wanted to date him.

Well, it really doesn’t matter now anyway, does it? Abram asked himself studying his completely opposite, but yet attractive shape in the mirror. Abram was slender and also short. He had square shoulders and a round face framed by thick, dark hair. He had stunning hazel eyes and full round lips. Though he did not recognize it, he too had his own secret followers.

What matters now is, what am I going to do? he whispered and folded his arms across his chest. That’s it! he exploded. His body jolted. He felt like a bolt of lightning had just struck him. That’s it! he cried again reaching for the phone.

Yes, operator. Uhm, I’m not really sure. I mean, I guess I need the police."

One moment, please, while I transfer your call, he heard her say calmly.

Officer Trujillo. What’s your emergency?

Yes, officer. Well, I’m not sure what to do. My parents just threw me out of the house, and I, I guess I just want to know if that’s legal, I guess…." Abram suddenly stopped afraid he wasn’t getting anywhere with the officer on the other end of the line. The officer sighed and reached back to scratch his head. Then he continued.

How old are you son? the officer asked, his question laced with genuine concern.

Eighteen, Abram answered softly.

I see, and why did your parents throw you out?

Because I’m gay and they don’t appreciate it, Abram responded emphatically.

I see, the officer sighed into the mouthpiece.

Well, seeing how you are of age there really isn’t anything you can do other than talk to your parents and see if you can reach some kind of understanding, otherwise you’ll have to go.

I don’t think that’ll be possible, Abram responded into the mouthpiece while scratching his head. I mean, reaching an understanding. You know.

Why not, son?

Well, it’s obvious they’re not the reasoning kind! he exploded quite matter-of-factly.

Well son, do you have a relative or a friend you can stay with? the officer asked, determined not to let this child wonder in the streets alone without having somewhere to go.

No, not really, Abram replied. I mean, I do have friends. Everybody’s got friends, but not like that. I couldn’t impose. If you know what I mean, Abram explained.

Oh, I understand, the officer agreed. Then he fell silent for a moment searching for the solution.

I got it! the officer exclaimed almost falling from his seat. Can you get to the Salvation Army downtown?

Yes, sir. I know where that’s at, Abram yelled half-heartedly. And I know how to catch the bus. But I really don’t want to go there if I don’t have to. Know what I mean? Abram responded his face wrinkled.

Well, for now that would be your best bet. At least you’d be safe there until you figure out what to do next, Officer Trujillo informed him.

You sure you can’t have them arrested or something for throwing me out? Abram asked again. Then I could stay here at the house till they figure out a way to get out of jail. That would at least give me more time.

No, I’m afraid not in this case, son.

Well, thanks anyway for your time, Abram sighed before hanging up the phone and dialing Margie’s number.

Margie and Abram had been best friends since he let her borrow his crayons in the second grade giving her the green light to finish her drawing that was due on the teacher’s desk that same afternoon. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do, the only thing to do. It was either that or listen to her cry till the bell rang. From that moment Abram and Margie had been drawn to each other like magnet to steel, deeming them inseparable.

Maybe she can help, he thought, nibbling on his left forefinger knuckle.

Hello Mrs. Flores. May I speak to Margie?

Oh, she stayed with her sister at the apartment last night? When do you expect she’ll be home?

Yes, it was quite a night with graduation and all.

No, my parents didn’t make it after all. That’s why I’m calling.

Yes, I know it’s early.

No, I didn’t stay out that late.

I see. Well, if you will just let her know I called and I’ll just try again later.

No, I won’t be home. That’s what I’m trying to tell her. My parents just threw me out of the house because I’m gay.

No, there’s nothing you or anybody else can do. Please, just tell her I’ll call later. Thank you. Click.

What do I do? What do I do? Abram asked himself catching his face as it fell into his hands. Then listening to the silence of the house except for the tick-tocking of the grandfather clock in the distant living-room Abram realized he probably felt like Dorothy from ‘The Wizard of Oz’ while she was in the witch’s dungeon waiting for the sand in the hour glass to run out.

I guess I better get some clothes and start packing, he decided reluctantly and slowly reached in his closet and pulled out two suitcases and an overnight bag. He placed them on his bed and hurriedly emptied the clothes from his drawers into one suitcase. Then he pulled clothes off their hangers and tossed them into the other case.

Shoes and miscellaneous stuff goes in the over-night bag, he decided quickly.

I better take a fast shower, he whispered, his clothes falling off as he headed towards the restroom.

A few minutes later he took one final look around his room and scanned for that one other item that was important to him but may have been overlooked.

That’s it, he murmured and zipped up his luggage. Then he picked them up and took one last look in the mirror.

My entire life is in these two cases and this overnight bag, he sighed as he looked at his trying-to-be-strong reflection.

Then he closed the door behind him and headed for the bus stop carrying one suitcase in each hand, the cases swaying like baskets on a Ferris wheel. All the while he was wondering what his next step would be, but knowing one thing for sure: he was not going to the Salvation Army, not if he could help it.

About forty-five minutes later he checked in to the Holiday Inn Hotel at the corner of Durango St. and Santa Rosa Blvd., on the edge of downtown and decided this would be ‘headquarters’ until he figured out his next step.

Frightened, and alone in his room, Abram wiped the tears from his soft moist face and slowly opened the newspaper he had picked up earlier in the lobby and thumbed through to the ‘Apartments for Rent’ section. Then sitting Indian-style on the queen-sized bed he whispered softly,

These are the facts: I have a job at the Jack-in-the-Box restaurant on the other side of town. That’s probably just two bus rides away. Right now I make $6.00 an hour and now that I’m out of school I can work at least thirty- seven, maybe even thirty-eight hours a week just like the other full time people do. That means I can make at least $225.00 a week, or $900.00 a month. But I don’t have any furniture, so I would need a furnished apartment. And I can’t sign a lease because I only need the apartment for three months. After that I’m outta here and on my way to San Diego, he whispered, the tears building up again. I just want to go far, far away where nobody will ever find me, somewhere where I can just forget….

But even as he thought it, he knew it wouldn’t be that easy to leave San Antonio. It was, after all, where he grew up and ironically enough it was home. Then searching ad by ad and desperately trying to see through the tears, carefully moving his forefinger across the page, he came across the perfect apartment:

One bedroom, all bills paid.

Completely furnished.

$250.00 per month.

$150.00 deposit.

Corner of Howard and Craig.

Perfect! he blurted out. Then he jumped off the bed, slipped into his shoes and slammed the door behind him and darted towards the bus stop.

This is your stop, the bus driver uttered thirty minutes later while eyeing Abram through the rearview mirror.

This is Craig, the operator said as he waived his finger at the cross street. Then he pointed right. Howard is two blocks in that direction a courteous smile on his face."

Thank you, Abram yelled nodding and leaping off the bus. He quickly walked in that direction, knowing in his heart the apartment would be his.

The road leading towards the apartment was framed by big houses, bigger than he had ever seen before. They were surrounded by even taller trees that reached deep into the bright sky and shielded the street from the morning suns burning rays.

Abram walked two long blocks and suddenly stumbled on the old broken sidewalk which lead up to the house with the ‘Apartment for Rent’ sign posted on the green lawn.

This must be it, Abram whispered; but it doesn’t make sense, he scratched his head.

Where is the apartment? he wondered. The house was obviously one story with two maybe three bedrooms at best.

I gotta check this out, Abram decided, then casually walked beside the house searching for a garage apartment or something that resembled an apartment. There behind the house just as he had anticipated was an old garage with two apartments resting above it. To be absolutely certain Abram took one last look at the sign advertising the apartment for rent. Then he walked back up to the front of the house and looked at the street sign on the corner once again. One sign read Howard and the other said Craig.

This has to be it, he concluded. He climbed the porch steps, rang the bell and waited silently, a million thoughts racing through his head. What if they don’t let me rent? What if I’m too young? I should just go, he thought feeling defeat consume his entire fragile body. All of a sudden the front wooden door slowly creaked open revealing an old woman wearing a pink robe just on the other side.

May I help you? she asked with a soft smile, her wrinkled hand clenching the robe at the folds of her neck.

Yes, ma’am, Abram answered shyly instantly feeling the old woman generating a strong pull, a pull filled with acceptance and oddly enough filled with, of all things, love for him.

I’m here about the apartment for rent, he said gently, still perplexed by what he felt.

Is it just for you? the woman asked curiously; her smile tightened

Yes, ma’am, Abram answered quickly; his cheeks flushed.

And I must inform you, Abram said matter-of-factly while scratching his head, It’ll just be for the summer.

Oh? The woman asked her smile loosened.

Yes, you see I only need a place to stay until I can save enough money to get to San Diego.

You have family in San Diego? the old woman asked quizzically.

No, ma’am, Abram responded, his gaze shifted down towards the old rolled-out welcome mat that lay beneath his feet covering a small portion of the porch. It strangely brought him comfort.

I see, the woman said, wondering what the situation was but knowing that every question had to have an answer and not sure she wanted to hear this one.

The rent is $250.00 a month; and there’s a $150.00 deposit, the old woman informed Abram, curious to see the expression on his face.

Yes, ma’am, Abram agreed, to her surprise. I read that in the paper. He reached in his pant pocket, pulled out a wad of bills and began counting them in his hand.

Is that all the money you have? the old woman asked afraid of his answer.

Yes, ma’am! Abram answered quickly. But I have a job and I get paid in a couple of days. I’ll be alright! he insisted. I don’t eat much, he added. Plus, I can eat at work, he cried. I work at ‘Jack-in-the-Box’.

I don’t like the way this looks, the old woman thought to herself, concern lacing the expression on her soft face. She exhaled and spoke with sympathy and understanding, locking her eyes with Abram.

It’s a funny thing, but there was a young man, just about your age, who came to see me almost two weeks ago about another apartment I’m renting. He paid his deposit and was supposed to move in today, but I haven’t seen or heard from him since. I’ll tell you what, the woman said crossing her arms beneath her breasts.

He should have called or been here by now. If he doesn’t come back to rent the apartment I’ll just apply his deposit towards your apartment and we’ll call it even.

Thank you! Abram exclaimed smiling from ear to ear. Then beneath his breath he whispered, I hope he doesn’t show up.

Chapter 1

D owntown San Antonio is cool, dark and usually peaceful at 7:00 a.m. in November. You might find an occasional jogger sprinting down the Riverwalk while the restaurant employees are busy getting ready to tend to their breakfast patrons. The barge captains, too, are busy preparing for another day of tourists wanting to ride their boats while the cold waters of the river are still quiet and tranquil waiting to flow and create memories for those who will ride them.

This early in the morning the guests who stayed in the downtown hotels are just waking to the cool breeze tapping outside their windows. They look through the glass and see the winds chasing the leaves and through their window they can hear the northern wind whistling above them. The travelers stare out into the new day and notice how some buildings are tall and stretch into the sky while others are short, squatting securely and playing it safe close to the ground. Either way most of the structures are still dark waiting for their occupants to bring them back to life after a long night’s sleep.

Some of the older buildings in San Antonio have gargoyles strategically mounted at each corner top. Many years ago when the city was young the building owners had the earie figures placed there to keep the evil spirits away therefore keeping the business prosperous. Some businesses have lived for a hundred years while others have come and gone despite the authority of the gargoyles.

San Antonio is unique in that every year in June the downtown business owners along with the hotel managers get together to plan how they will decorate the downtown area for the holiday season. It always ends up looking like a winter wonderland even though it seldom freezes and snow is almost unheard of in the city. Nonetheless, the Riverwalk a meandering inner-city architecturally controlled water- way, is decorated with an explosion of lights of every color you can think of and if you close your eyes and leave the rest to your imagination you can feel the wicked winds penetrating your bones even though they’re not really there.

The meeting of June, 1981 was a little different from previous meetings. Alberto Duran had recently bought the Joske’s department store that sat just two blocks south of the Alamo and being from New York, Alberto felt that he knew what was best for the downtown area even though this was his first Christmas in San Antonio.

In New York, he raised his hand and shook his fist at the crowd his face a beet red, we don’t use icicle lights and we don’t use fake snow, he yelled at the top of his lungs, and we don’t have these stupid communist meetings! We just do whatever the hell we want!

The mayor, who sat at the opposite side of the chamber and who had tried to understand Mr. Duran’s point of view finally hit his sound board with his gavel and brought the crowd to order once more. Then he finally gave Mr. Duran an ultimatum.

You’re either with us or against us, the mayor said sternly. We’ve done this for many years and we feel that even though some of your suggestions may have merit, this year we’re gonna go with tradition. If you don’t want your store to participate that’s up to you, but if your sales drop during the Christmas season don’t blame us.

Alberto Duran looked around at the crowd and shook his head. His face was boiling red.

Very well, he agreed. I will do as I am told, but next year it will be different.

No, you won’t find snow in San Antonio but what you will find, as in almost every other major city, are the hungry and homeless asking passersby for spare change to buy a cup of coffee, or if lucky, an entire breakfast meal. They stand in the street corners hidden in the shadows of the buildings and talk amongst themselves to see how and where others spent the night. They ask about and want to know that their friends are safe and are alright. They say a small prayer and hope to see each other again before the night falls, and as more people continue to walk by they extend their hand out again and again in hopes of acquiring more change or maybe even a cigarette to smoke.

They spend their days scouting the downtown area carefully selecting the spot they will call home again once the day dissolves. Having found the perfect spot they will return that evening and settle in for the night searching through their carts hunting for cardboard to make beds. Then, ruffling through their belongings and pulling out blankets for warmth they eventually fall asleep and wait for the new day to arrive.

Abram had managed to stay away from the ‘Salvation Army’ and was not homeless but instead had spent the last six months in his apartment and was now on his way to San Diego. That morning he had said his last good-bye to his landlord, Effie, and her handyman, Jack, and to the apartment where he had stayed that summer.

Chapter 2

H e got off the taxi right next to the bus station and looked around at the buildings and the cars that made up the city as they flew by in a blur. The cab driver popped the trunk and got Abram’s luggage while Abram fished in his pocket and searched for a five dollar bill to give him.

Thank you, sir, the cab driver said, and have a nice trip.

Thank you, Abram repeated in a silent whisper. Suddenly he felt a lump in his throat and his stomach getting tighter. He knew what was about to happen. Yes, Abram had spent many afternoons dreaming of boarding that Greyhound bus heading for San Diego.

But can I actually do it? he asked himself. I guess by now I have no choice, he concluded. Slowly he leaned over, secured his bags in his fists, tossed his overnight bag strap over his shoulder and vanished into the terminal. In the depot he found passengers sitting waiting to be called to departing busses as well as people waiting for the busses carrying their loved ones to arrive. And in the middle of all the travelers stood an eight foot tall Christmas tree that instantly, magically hypnotized Abram and lured him to its side.

Wow, he thought, amazed as he circled the tree. For a brief moment he forgot what he was doing there.

Now that’s a tree! he whispered in awe astonished at the myriad of decorations that were hung on the tree.

The decorations were different in that they were either a greyhound dog, a Greyhound bus or one of the contiguous 48 states that Greyhound served. Every state had a red ribbon on it while the busses each had headlights that blinked on and off, and the greyhound dogs each wore a red and white Christmas cap.

Wow, that’s a tree, he whispered again as he pushed his way through the crowd to the ticket counter all the while keeping one eye on the tree and the other on the counter. Behind the counter stood a short Hispanic male about 5’4" who was busy fiddling with a pencil and what looked to Abram like a report of some sort and a calculator. He wore a freshly-pressed gray and black Greyhound uniform that matched his smile accenting his company pride. He looked up from his workstation revealing two gold teeth and enthusiastically asked Abram,

May I help you?

Yes, please, said, Abram standing straight and caressing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. I need a one way ticket to San Diego, California, he replied quite matter-of-factly.

Just one? the clerk asked curiously, sensing an uneasiness in Abram’s young, broken voice.

Yes, sir, Abram responded, uncertain what the clerk was thinking.

Are you traveling alone?

Yes, sir, Abram answered still not sure what to expect. I’m eighteen. I can do that, can’t I, he cried a puzzled look overtaking his round face.

Yes, of course you can, the clerk informed him. He then leaned in close to Abram, and whispered sincerely, You’re not running away from home are you?

No, sir, I’m not, Abram answered quickly. Let’s just say the opposite happened. My parents threw me out of the house and I’m leaving town.

Oh, I see, the clerk said closing his eyes nodding his head. Another one of those. Well, try to sit towards the front of the bus where the driver can see you and don’t talk to any strangers, the clerk instructed and then proceeded.

That’ll be fifty-nine dollars, he informed him using his professional voice.

Abram smiled, reached in his pocket and pulled three twenty dollar bills. He paid for the ticket then placed it along with the change in his shirt pocket.

Any luggage? the clerk asked.

Just these two, Abram managed to push the words through the growing lump in his throat.

Are they tagged? the clerk asked.

Abram shook his head then grabbed the paper tags lying on