Feral Sephrian - Lost and Found

Lost and Found

By Feral Sephrian

Published by Queerteen Press

Visit queerteen-press.com for more information.

Copyright 2014 Feral Sephrian

ISBN 9781611525816

Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the authors imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America. Queerteen Press is an imprint of JMS Books LLC.

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Lost and Found

By Feral Sephrian

There were two constants in my childhood: going to church every Sunday and arguments. It was mostly Dad and Leon who argued, but sometimes Dad would argue with Mama about Leon. Although, I guess he wasnt so much arguing with her as he was loudly telling her what was wrong with my big brother and why he should have more respect for his family. Leon is a lot older than I am. He was ten when I was born. By the time I was old enough to sense the household tension, Leon was already well into his teens and was just as stubborn as Dad.

At church we were a normal family, except that Leon seemed even less interested than I, the squirmy preschooler, in what the preacher said, and he didnt mingle with the others the way Mama and Dad did. Sometimes if our parents talked to the neighbors for too long, hed vanish until it was time to leave then suddenly appear by the car. If Dad demanded to know where he had been, Leon would just say, In the bathroom. Want details? I thought it was funny, at least until it started another argument.

Usually Mama told me to go play in my room or outside whenever things heated up. She played music in hopes of drowning out the shouting so I couldnt hear. At first, I thought it was normal and that everyone got louder as they grew older. When I first started going to daycare and noticed all the other families getting along, I started to wonder. I asked the other kids if their parents or siblings fought, and about what.

Mommy gets mad at Daddy when he leaves dirty dishes in the sink.

Liz and Chelly fight over who gets the bathroom first in the morning.

Daddy yells at the TV a lot.

Those were nice families though. I knew a few from around the neighborhood or played with them at the park. Dad and Leon were the only two there, if Mama ever convinced them to go together, who made a point of not looking at each other or speaking to each other in case they started arguing and made people stare. When Dad wasnt there, Leon was just like any of the other big brothers or sisters who pushed their siblings on the swings or helped them climb up the ladder to the top of the slide. He let me sit on his shoulders while I played on the monkey bars until I was strong enough to pull myself across. Jungle Joshy he would call me.

Leon was different in general when Dad wasnt around. Sometimes if Dad worked late, Leon would play with me while Mama made dinner. He taught me how to dance. He would turn on the radio and dance around the living room with me. He was really good. He could do turns on his toes and jump and spin in the air and do things that I, in the clumsiness of childhood, could never do. I tried every once in a while, but I usually ran into furniture and Mama would call out, Joshua, did you bump your head on the sofa again? or Leon, please make sure Joshua doesnt hurt himself.

Then Dad would come home. I learned to listen for his car in the driveway, since that meant Leon would quickly turn off the music and grab a toy for me to play with instead. If he didnt, Dad would come in and shout, Goddammit, Leon! I told you I will NOT have that queer prancing in my house! You are corrupting your brother! I swear if he turns out like you Im kicking you both out!

Mama did her best to calm him down, but mostly I would have to go to my room again until things were quiet and dinner was ready. Either way, I never danced where Dad could see me, and neither did Leon.

When I was five and Leon was fifteen, things got even worse. Leon would disappear for hours at a time. If Mama asked or Dad ordered him to say where he was going and when he would be home, Leon would say, Im going out with friends, Ill be home when Im back. Leon slammed the door a lot. It made Dad angry and he ranted off and on until Leon came home, then hed switch back to shouting at him for a while.

By that age, I was curious as to what they argued about. No one else yelled as much as they did, not as far as I knew. After Mama shooed me into my room one day, I opened my door a crack and listened. They said some words I didnt know, but just from the tone, I knew Dad was the angriest and Leon was the one fighting back.

an abomination! A sin against God! I thought going to church would straighten you out, but its like you want to burn in Hell!

Im already in Hell! The only difference is its not hot enough and even Satan isnt as crazy as you are!

You watch your tone with me, boy! If you dont like the roof Ive put over your head and the food I put on this table then you can pack your things and go!

Maybe someday I will! Living in a cardboard box would be better than living here because at least in a cardboard box I dont have to listen to your bigoted bitching all the time!

Dont you use that language in front of your mother!

Oh, so you can call me a faggot and a queer and tell me Im going to Hell every other night, but Im not allowed to complain? Thats bullshit!

There was a smacking sound and Mama cried, Adam! Dont hurt him!

You stay out of this, Sandra! This boy needs to learn his manners or hell never grow up to be a real man! Hell just be another disrespectful punk burdening society! Leon sniffled and Dad got even louder. Now hes crying! Oh for Gods sake, cant you even act like a man for once? What did I do to deserve having a pansy like this for a son?

Mama urged Leon to go to his room. When I heard the footsteps, I quickly shut my door and went to play with my trains. I hadnt understood everything, but I knew about the people in cardboard boxes. Sometimes when Mama took me shopping with her Id see them by the dumpsters behind the grocery store. I asked what they were doing there and Mama said, Thats their home. They have nowhere else to go. God have mercy on them. Leon said he would rather be a box-person, as I called them, than live in our house. I was sad and scared at the thought of losing my brother.

Dad and Mama were still arguing in the living room. I snuck out of my room and down the hall to Leons room. When I knocked, he didnt answer. Leon? Are you there?

The door opened. Leon had his hand to his face. Hey, Joshy. Whats up?

Leon, are you really going to live in a cardboard box?

Leon frowned and his shoulders drooped. II honestly dont know, kid.

I hugged him around the middle. If you do, Ill come visit you lots. Maybe I could get a box too and stay with you sometimes.

OhJoshy Leon backed into his room with me still attached and closed the door behind me. He knelt down so we could be face-to-face. There was a big red mark on his cheek. I dont want to leave you here with Duh, with no big brother. I know it might bescary when Dad and I fight, but you mean a lot to me and I really hope I can stay. Its justDad and I dont agree on a lot of things, and he wants me to be something Im not.