The Truth In Pictures

Chapters 0 & 1

Author's foreword.

    There are a few things to keep in mind while you're reading this. The main character in this story is a boy I once loved. We had what you might call a "holiday romance"; like getting a boyfriend at summer camp, but then never seeing or hearing from him again after everyone goes home. This special boy touched my heart and left his own personal mark on it. I've tried to erase it with serious relationships, flings, and even almost got married once! (Ugh!) I don't think I'll ever forget "Michael", and I'm not sure if I ever want to. For that short time we had together, he was my everything, and I was sure he felt the same way. Anyway, before I start blubbering again, this story is from his perspective; well, I'm going to try to write it that way.

Ch. 0 - Gettin' Schooled (Meet the cast)   

    Connor and I had graduated from the same high school in Leominster, and gone to Boston U together where we met Erich; same majors and everything. After finishing at BU, we mostly bummed around for a year, had menial jobs. We decided to take some time off after busting our humps for four years. I had had no idea just how much frikkin work went into a degree. And all that crap you hear about college being the time to party? Not if you're actually there to learn! Over the four years we were there, I can count on both hands the number of parties and events I attended. Can't say the same for Connor. That's all he did; and I'm the only reason he graduated. And Erich? Well, he was a balance of the two of us.

Connor had been a traffic and parking enforcement officer in Worcester for seven months, until he thrashed some middle aged jackass for parking his Beemer in front of a fire hydrant for four days in a row. In Connor's defense, the man did provoke him, and jabbed a finger into his chin. Connor layed him out across the hood of his $70k Sapphire Blue BMW with a right cross that would have made Mick from Rocky proud. He copped to assault and battery, but got off scot-free after witnesses saw the pompous jackass he hit "willingly and knowingly provoke action in the form of self-defense." A friend in traffic enforcement surprised him one day by bringing a copy of the traffic camera's tape over to the apartment a a gift. We made a night of it. We got some beer and snacks, invited a few friends over, and cheered in unison when Connor punched that SOB. It was liking watching a pay-per-view boxing!

I had roomed with Connor, partly because we were such good buds, but mostly because I wanted to keep an eye on him. He had a few close calls in college with drugs, alcohol, and other shit. I'm not saying I ever had to save his life, but I threw my share of punches on his behalf. I think sometimes he would start trouble because he knew I was always close by. He knew that if a fight started, or if voices were raised, that was like the Bat Signal to me. I always came running; no matter what. Anyway, I took to working at a comic book shop a few streets down from our apartment. It was fun... sort of. What can I say? The regulars were alright, and the occasional dad telling his young son about how many comic books he had when he was a kid always made me smile, but the ones who wished to wax philosophical about the books drove me nuts. The pay wasn't great, but the owner let me take pretty much whatever I wanted whenever. At the request of a few local high school kids, we started carrying Manga. I never read it but I had to admit (to myself) some of the ways they drew the girls was just adorable.

Erich, being the athlete that he can be spent the next three months as a bike messenger in New York City. Growing up in Northern New Jersey he spent most of the time he should have been in school on the streets of NYC, so he knew them pretty well enough. He rented a shitty room in a shitty building on the Lower East Side, but made the most of it. He saved enough to move back to Worcester with us after a few months. He said he thought he might like it, but didn't. "All risk, no reward." Connor and I agreed.

A few weeks after Erich moved onto our couch, we all three saw the same ad in the Boston Globe about a school up in Maine looking for, "Young, Vibrant, Strong Willed" individuals to live on campus and work. We decided, "What the F-", we really weren't going anywhere with the way things were, and had yet to put our degrees to good use.