South Africa
Part 1

MrB aka Gary wants to write my story. Hahahaha! Can you fucking believe that? Says it's probably the most important story he's ever written. Yeah, right. He wants a hero, and I'm no fucking hero. He wants me to step into Cody's shoes, but I'm no Cody. I'm no Wingnut or Mark either. I'm a druggie. When things get tough, I get trashed. Hey, I get trashed anyway. What the fuck. It's easy to get. Too easy.

You're not gonna like a lotta the stuff you read here. And that's weird 'cause Gary always writes stories about guys he likes and respects. He keeps telling me that I've got what it takes to be the dude Cody always wanted me to be. Cody loved me. He loved my bod. Hey, we made love just two days before he died. Fucking awesome as always. But he hated me using drugs. He would have hated it even more if he'd known how deeply into the drug scene I was. Was? Yeah, was. I've been pretty clean for a couple of weeks, 'cept for two occasions which weren't my fault. I'll tell you about those later.

The day before Cody was killed, he phoned me. "It's gonna be a fucking rave, Steve! C'mon! Let's fucking party!" I knew some of the guys he worked with. They were getting together for a few beers as a kinda end of year bash. But I was on a mission with my girlfriend to get laid, so I passed. How do you think I feel about that? I was porking my girl while he was laying crushed in a heap of twisted metal that used to be car. How do I live with myself knowing that if I'd been with him, he might still be alive? I can't sleep. His words, "It's gonna be a rucking rave, Steve! C'mon! Let's fucking party!" keep rolling around in my head. Maybe if I'd been with him that night, we would have both been killed in that motor accident. How cool would that have been? I'd be with him, my friend and lover, and I wouldn't have any more problems.

But, no. Gary insists on having his fucking hero. He's gotta be kidding. After I'd received the news of Cody's death, I asked his neighbor John to write Gary and let him know. I didn't have the guts. So what kinda fucking hero am I? I knew that Gary thought the sun shone outa Cody's ring, and I just couldn't bring myself to tell him. Besides, I was trashed. Constantly trashed. The night I heard about Code's death, I went on an acid trip and was out of it for four days. And Gary wants me to be a hero? Ha!

I've written to Gary repeatedly and told him that I'm not the hero type. But he won't fucking listen. I even wrote him a couple of times when I was trashed, but it's like water off a duck's back. The guy just answers me like it's no biggie, and keeps pointing out all the positive stuff. What positive stuff?

OK. So I'm listening. I'm hearing him. It's not like I don't have a vision of my future. I'll be repeating my last year of high school 'cause Code's death, among other things, prevented me from writing my final exams last year. Then I intend to do a business management course at university after I graduate from high school.

After being bombarded with a truckload email from Gary, I began to realize why Cody loved that old dude so much. At first, though, my responses were pretty formal. I didn't want Gary to know what was happening to me. I didn't want to spoil the image that Cody had painted of me in his emails to Gary. Y'know, the tall blonde, super fit, super hunk, surfer god. I helped Gary by creating some graphics for his web site. I figured they'd ease his pain a little, and ease it for me as well. Doing stuff for Gary also meant doing stuff for Code. MrB and The Captain were soul buddies. I also got Mark's and Paul's tribute speeches and sent them to Gary for inclusion in the final chapter of the Mark story.

But the more I wrote Gary, and the more he replied, the more I revealed about myself - the dark side of my character. I found myself telling him things I'd never told anyone else. Bad things. Evil things. I'd check the comp the next day, expecting to see all hell break loose, but no. He'd stick a rocket up my ass, but it was a pretty diplomatic rocket. And he'd keep raving on and on and on about my potential to be a hero. That guy just didn't know when to fucking quit! Hey, neither did Cody.

I admitted to things I had deliberately done to hurt Code, like fucking his girlfriend Steph. I admitted to organizing a couple of my druggie buds to beat the shit outa Mark at a club one night. I hated the friendship that had developed between Code and Mark, and their closeness. I was insanely jealous. I wanted Code all to myself. But when things turned out in Code's favor, which they always did eventually, I'd go on another drug binge and send myself to another planet. Little did I realize then that Code had enough love to share with everyone. He had a limitless supply.

Cody found me lying in my own puke one morning in my room, and we ended up fighting. I was out of it, and he beat the shit outa me. Cody was powerfully strong, and when he hit you, you knew you'd been hit. But he only ever lashed out when he was angry. Like I said, he hated me using drugs. And when he was angry, there would be fire blazing in his hazel eyes as he screamed at me. But fighting also made him horny. There were many times after we'd punched the crap outa each other, that we would end up making love. He would write poetry:

GOLDEN GOD
Hard muscle
Covered by silky gold.
Piercing blue eyes
Looking into my soul.

Steph was also taking drugs before she met Cody. She was on e and coke. She went on a program to stop using. She did that for Cody. I thought about it, too. But, y'know. Maybe tomorrow. But tomorrow never really came. I'd tried and failed a stack of times. So what was the use? I was into it too deep. I was not only using, I was also selling to support my habit, and to have some cash in my pocket. Cody never knew about that. He thought the stuff I had in my room was my own stash. Paul and Mark knew about it, though. They'd score off me now and then. Nothing hard. Just grass. Mark and I got along OK, I guess. But Paul hated me. He was the cleverest, and saw through me straight away. The only reason he tolerated me was 'cause Cody liked me, and he loved Cody big time.

Anyway, I did my best to convince Gary that I was a poes [Safrican slang for cunt] and he agreed hahahaha! But he kept insisting that that needn't be the end of the fucking story. That I could change. That I could be up there on the pedestal Cody saw me on. That I could be respected and loved by the very people who now loathed me, including myself. Yeah, right. The idea was cool, but the reality was a totally different thing.

Nevertheless, I was trying to do as he asked. Maybe this time, for Code, I could do it. I was hanging quite a bit with Steph, much to the chagrin of my girlfriend. But I'd always loved Steph. Needless to say, after a few arguments with my girlfriend, we split. Wingnut was also hanging around, wanting to go surfing, and even asking if he could sleep over one night. I figured he saw me as Code's buddy, so that was some kinda comfort to him. The poor little dude - whoa! not so little anymore - would spend a lotta time sitting in Code's room, listening to Code's music. To the grommet, Code's room was "their" room, and it was still just as Code had left it. A shrine to the main man.

On the morning of November 03, 2001, Wingnut breezed into Code's room as usual to bounce on his bed. He loved doing that after Code had had a night out. But there was no Code. When Code's folks broke the news, Wingnut was totally devestated, and spent ages on Code's bed crying his poor grommet heart out. Those two guys were close. And I mean real close. How that little dude coped I'll never know, but I figured Code's folks must have helped a lot. Come to think of it, Wingnut probably helped them too. He'd become a permanent fixture in that house over the past couple of years.

Steph and I took Wingnut to see "Lord of the Rings" just before Christmas. We'd become like a family - bros and sis. At the time, I was also working on a special Cody Christmas graphic to send Gary to post on his site. So I was keeping myself occupied, and off the heavy stuff. Hopefully.

On Christmas day, Steph and I rocked over to Code's place to be with his folks. We were like family to them, too. They treated all of Code's friends like family. Steph had bought his folks a plant - an African violet. Code's mom had tears in her eyes when Steph gave it to her. Even his dad was quite choked up. It was pretty obvious that Code's folks were still taking a lot of strain.

Then I noticed some gifts under the tree. Whoa! How the fuck was I gonna cope? One of them was a gift to me from Code. He'd made it before the accident. I read the card, then unwrapped the paper. Fucking hell! A bead necklace. He'd made it himself. Code was like that. He didn't have a lotta money, so he would often give things he'd made... like the graphics he would always give to Gary for special occasions. Anyway, it took every ounce of self-control I had not to burst into tears as I fondled the necklace, and thought of his fingers putting it all together for me.

Code's folks were pretty cool - as much as could be expected - and they were just sooo happy to see us. Wingnut came in a little while afterwards. He was dressed in a new tank top and boardies that his folks had given him. He was real chirpy. He'd make a card for them and they were so chuffed. It was a drawing of Cody and his dad on a dawn patrol. Just a silhouette of two surfers with the sun coming up. Winger was not a great artist but I figured Code's folks were gonna treasure that card forever. Then they told Wingnut about Code's prized Endless Summer poster, which they'd given to him for Christmas. He went ballistic. Woohoo! He asked if he could keep it where it was 'cause then he'd have an excuse to come over and visit, and Code's folks loved that idea. I figured Wingnut had kinda replaced Cody as a boy in the house if you know what I mean.

We all went out to sit by the pool and Cody's mom made us some juice and some snacks. The Codeman was missing though. Fucking hell! How could you not notice that naked ass walking around his pool? Actually, I told Gary in an email later, that this was so damn hard. I thought of Cody all the time and I mean all the time. It's not his bullshit and his laughter I missed so much. I missed the way he used to touch me and talk to me. When we made love it was so incredibly special. I remember the first time that he entered me. I was going to lay on my stomach. I'd wanted it for a long time but Cody wasn't too keen. I remember feeling his tongue there and couldn't believe that he would do that. Cody told me to lay on my back and he lifted my legs up on to his shoulders. If it hurt I can't remember. I know that I was tight 'cause he had to force himself into me. I just remember him filling me and how fantastic it felt, and looking at him with his smooth body bathed in sweat as he loved me. When he was finished, and he put his head down on my chest, I licked the dripping sweat off of his head and it was good.

I looked at Wingnut diving in the pool and wondered if Cody ever had sex with him. He never told me. I knew they were blowing each other. In fact, I knew that Cody and Mark were as well. Never ever spoke to either of them about it. Mark would've probably beat me close to death if I had.

Later on Christmas day, Mark and his girlfriend Candy arrived. Mark had obviously made one helluva impression on Cody's folks. His girlfriend was a total stunner. Total class and beautiful. She got on with everyone. Wingnut started telling her that Mark used to beat him up at school, and then he had Mark wrestling him in the pool. Wingnut loved to tease Mark... always calling him Conan.

Cody's dad put some meat on the braai (barbecue) and we had a really fantastic day. We spoke of Cody a lot. His folks were hearing stories about him at school and on tour and hiking. Mark was asked about the yacht he was building in Johannesburg. During the day some other guys came around and spent a while. Darren and Ross, Code's swim team buddies from school, came around. And a black guy everyone called Jumbo. I remembered him from reading Gary's stories. I knew Darren and Ross from when we went clubbing together sometimes. It was a really nice day and we left late. Steph and Candy got on well together, and Mark was constantly checking to see if I was giving her the once over. Yeah, right, and get my head beaten in.

The next time I wrote Gary, I had to apologize for letting him - or was it me? - down. I'd been on a serious downer thinking about Code. Hell, I wasn't just thinking about Code. I'd also been thinking about Wingnut. I'd read all the Wingnut stories, and I desperately wanted to love Wingnut like Code did... with tenderness and respect. But those kinda qualities didn't come easy to me. I was used to having my own way, and using different methods of persuasion.

To add salt to the wound, I was getting email from a guy named Kim H, who was telling me about my responsibility to Cody, and about the drug thing, and how I should be looking after Wingnut. Gary had obviously been in the dude's ear.

When my folks decided to go on another one of their fucking endless trips, leaving me in the care of the household staff - yeah, right - I decided to go on another one of mine. Drug induced, of course. I saw an opportunity to invite Wingnut to sleep over.

Copyright 2002 All rights reserved. mrbstories


 

 Steve Part 2