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From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Different Sort Of Lifestyle 20 (MF, rom)
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Date: Thu, 18 Jan 2007 08:10:04 -0500
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Lazlo Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
 
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<1st attachment, "Life01-20.txt" begin>

A Different Sort Of Lifestyle
Chapter 20: Difference of Perspective
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2006

Ted had gone to bed early that night. The time spent running 
around in the backyard with the other kids had worn him out. It 
wasn't that he was that out of shape, but he hadn't been sleeping 
well for more than a month. He fell asleep almost as soon as he hit 
the bed. Much to his surprise, he wouldn't wake until late the next 
morning.

Shirley was seated in her chair thinking about some of the things 
that Ted had said earlier that evening. It dawned on her that he 
might have actually been considering suicide. She tried to keep 
control over her emotions, but after a minute she broke down and 
cried. The idea of losing him after all they'd gone through was too 
much for her.

Coming from the kitchen with a bowl of ice cream, Daryl froze on 
seeing his wife crying. His shoulders slumped. Unable to control 
himself, he said, "Not again."

"You don't seem to care that our son was almost killed!"

"That was almost two months ago," he replied. It seemed like 
every night she broke down in tears over the attack on Ted. He 
didn't understand it. It was time to pick up their lives and get on 
with living. They hadn't had sex since that day and he was getting 
tired of it.

"He was thinking about killing himself," she countered.

"Where did you get that idea?"

She glared at him and shook her head. It was just like him to be 
oblivious to everyone's pain. She said, "He said so this evening 
when we visited Harry."

"No he didn't," he replied. He replayed the entire conversation 
over in his head and couldn't recall him saying anything about 
committing suicide. 

"He was convinced that it would have been better if that pervert 
had killed him," she answered. She looked up at him getting angry 
that he wasn't taking this situation with the seriousness that it 
deserved. 

"That doesn't mean that he was considering taking his own life," 
Daryl replied confused by her assertion.

"Yes it does. Did you know that he was afraid that he was a 
homosexual?" she asked pointing a finger at him.

"No," Daryl answered knowing that she hadn't been aware of that 
fact either. He could tell by how his playboys were moved around 
on occasion that Ted was sneaking in and looking at them. There 
were no doubts in his mind that Ted was a normal healthy red 
blooded horny teenage boy.

"See, you aren't paying attention to him. Our little boy was almost 
killed and you're acting all macho."

"Huh?" He looked down at his ice cream and realized that he 
wasn't going to have the peace and quiet necessary to enjoy it. He 
put it down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch. 

"You heard me. I don't stutter. You're too busy acting all macho to 
understand the severity of the situation," she charged.

"What are you talking about?"

"It's over and it's time for him to get on with his life. He's a big 
boy and can take care of himself. Quit mothering him, you'll stunt 
his development as a man," she said in a mocking tone of voice.

Looking down at his bowl of ice cream, Daryl came to a decision 
that he knew he was going to regret. In a stern voice, he said, "Quit 
it right now. You're acting like an obsessed maniac. I can't take it 
any more. Get over it. Stop crying. Let him grow up and be a 
man."

"That's your answer to everything isn't it? Act like a man," she 
said. She couldn't understand how it was that he didn't see that 
Ted was hurting and needed comforting from his parents. 

"What do you want me to do?"

"Act like you care," she answered.

"I do care. I just don't think that breaking down and crying all the 
time is going to solve anything. He needs to go out and face his 
fears," Daryl said. They had this part of the discussion every night 
and it wasn't going anywhere. Lifting both his hands, he added, 
"The suggestion that he take martial arts lessons is perfect."

"Learning how to fight isn't going to solve anything."

"What do you want me to do?" he asked. 

"Something."

"What?"

"I don't know. You should do something to fix it," she answered.

"Like what?"

"Care."

"I do care, damn it."

"So act like it!" she shouted. Realizing that she was shouting, she 
covered her mouth out of fear that she was going to wake Ted. The 
poor guy needed his rest.

Standing up, Daryl shook his finger at her and said, "Don't say 
another word about me not caring."

"Well, you don't care," she said.

Afraid that he was going to lose his temper, Daryl stormed out of 
the house. Getting into the car, he fastened his seatbelt before 
realizing that he hadn't taken the keys out of his pocket. After 
wiggling around, he fished his keys out. A few seconds later, he 
started the car and pulled out of the driveway. He didn't have a 
destination in mind.

In the house, Shirley stared at the closed door unable to believe 
that he had actually left. His actions only convinced her that he 
didn't really care about what happened to Ted or their marriage. If 
he had cared, he would have stayed there and discussed their 
problems. She crossed her arms and waited for him to return.

At first she had thought that he was just going to drive around the 
block until he cooled off. After an hour had passed, she decided 
that he had gone to a bar to have a drink or two and would return 
home with a little glow. After three hours, Shirley began to get 
very worried. Her thoughts turned a little darker when she started 
imagining that he had crashed his car. 

Not knowing what else to do, she went to the phone and called the 
police to see if there had been any accidents reported. The officer 
on the phone wasn't very understanding and told her to call back 
after he had been missing for at least twenty four hours. After 
hanging up, she went to the front window and looked out. The 
driveway was empty.

She went back to her chair. Her worry fought with her anger. She 
alternated between crying and grimacing at the ceiling. Unable to 
sit, she paced around the living room. She kept glancing at the 
clock, but the time dragged by with painful slowness. It was well 
past her bedtime, but she waited some more. Finally, she decided 
that she would get ready for bed in the belief that keeping busy 
would make the time pass quicker. She was convinced that he'd be 
home before she was out of the shower.

When she finished her shower there was still no sign of Daryl. She 
was beginning to get very worried. Not knowing what else to do, 
she sat on the edge of the bed listening for the door to open. It 
didn't open and two hours later she fell asleep. Her pillow was 
damp from her tears.

Daryl woke up in his car feeling stiff and sore. His little car wasn't 
designed to be used as a place to sleep. He worked his tongue. It 
felt and tasted like a herd of camels had shit in his mouth. He 
looked around trying to remember where he was. He had ended up 
having waffles at the all-night waffle house before falling asleep in 
his car. His stomach grumbled and he climbed out of the car. After 
stretching, he decided to have breakfast at the waffle house and 
then head to work. 

Looking down at himself, he realized his clothes were wrinkled. 
He frowned at the thought of going into the office looking like 
that, but headed into the waffle house anyway. Taking a seat at the 
counter, he ordered coffee, eggs over easy, hash browned potatoes, 
bacon, and toast. Even as he ordered it, he felt that it was a better 
breakfast than a man who walked out on his family deserved.

He ate his breakfast without really tasting it. While slowly 
consuming his food, he wondered what had gone wrong with his 
marriage. He had thought things were really good between him and 
his wife, but the attack on Ted seemed to have destroyed it. His 
wife seemed to have fixated on the attack and wouldn't get past it. 
She was smothering Ted and killing their marriage. 

He took a drink of his coffee deep in thought. The coffee was still 
hot and the cup was full. He realized that the waitress must have 
refilled it. He looked down at his plate and saw that it was empty. 
Shaking his head, he felt like he was functioning on autopilot.

Checking his watch, he saw that he didn't have enough time to 
stop by the house to shower and change clothes. Settling the bill, 
he went outside and got in his car. It was a short half hour drive to 
the office and he would be late anyway. Somehow breakfast had 
lasted an hour and a half. 

After pulling into the parking lot, he parked and took stock of 
himself. He didn't like what he saw. It was too late to go by a store 
and purchase a toothbrush. He brushed his teeth with his finger. It 
would maybe remove some of the fur, but it wasn't going to do 
anything for his breath. Still, it was the best that he could do for the 
moment. 

He had just settled into his cubicle when his boss passed by. The 
man stopped and looked at Daryl unable to believe his eyes. He 
cleared his throat and said, "Daryl. Would you mind coming to my 
office for a minute?"

"Sure, Mr. Murdock," he answered. He got out of his chair and 
followed his boss to the corner office. A number of his coworkers 
watched him walk by; shaking their heads once he had stepped 
past them.

Dan Murdock entered his office and gestured to a chair. In a gruff 
voice, he said, "Have a seat."

"Okay."

"I'm not going to mince words, Daryl. You look like shit. Your 
hair is uncombed, you haven't shaved, and your clothes look like 
you slept in them. Now I know that you and your family had a 
little problem a month ago, but you need to get over it. I can't have 
one of my people come crawling into the office looking like they 
spent the night in a bar. We're trying to maintain some level of 
professionalism here," Dan said while leaning against his desk 
with his arms crossed.

Hearing his own words coming back at him, Daryl said, "I couldn't 
agree with you more."

Dan stared at Daryl for a minute wondering if the guy was trying 
to suck up to him. At least he wasn't offering lame excuses. Taking 
a deep breath, he said, "Go home. Sober up. Get a good night's 
sleep and come in tomorrow looking and acting like a professional. 
Okay?"

"Yes, sir," Daryl answered surprised that his boss thought he was 
hung over. He hadn't had a drink the previous night. Of course, if 
he had another night like the previous night then he would 
probably tie one on. 

"If you straighten up, we'll just forget that this ever happened. 
Okay?"

"Thank you, sir," Daryl answered. He knew his boss would say 
that everything was forgotten, but he expected a poor merit review 
just the same. He frowned while standing up. Looking at his boss, 
he said, "I'll go now."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow," Dan said.

"Yes, sir."

When Daryl left, Dan shook his head. Daryl had been a good 
employee until that problem two months ago. He wasn't sure of the 
details, but the man's performance was going downhill quickly. If 
this trend continued, he'd have to take official action and that 
would be a shame.

Daryl went out to his car and sat down in the driver's seat. He 
didn't know what to do. It didn't seem worth it to go home, but he 
didn't have anywhere else to go. It was too early to go to a bar. He 
didn't really have the money to check into a hotel. Going back to 
the waffle house wasn't a solution to his problems. Sitting in the 
parking lot where he worked wasn't solving any problems either.

---

Ted was eating a bowl of cereal watching his mother drink a cup of 
coffee. Her hands were shaking, her eyes were red rimmed from 
crying, and she was still wearing her robe and nightgown. He'd 
never seen his mother look that upset. He was afraid of asking her 
what the problem was since he believed that he was the cause.

Ignoring the watchful eyes of her son, Shirley stood up and went to 
the phone. After placing a call, she waited for her husband to 
answer the phone. He should have been at work by then, but all she 
got was his voice mail. She stared at the phone not knowing what 
to do. Her tears threatened to return, but she controlled herself 
knowing that Ted was watching her. She slowly hung up the 
phone.

His quiet voice interrupted her thoughts, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she answered knowing that it was an outright lie. She 
was becoming even more convinced that Daryl was lying in a 
hospital somewhere.

"Who were you calling?" Ted asked frowning. 

"No one."

"You look upset," Ted commented. He spooned another mouthful 
of cereal into his mouth while watching his mother for some sign 
of what was bothering her. He decided she was still worried about 
him.

"I didn't sleep well last night."

"Oh," he said. Looking at the bowl of cereal, he said, "I really slept 
well last night. No nightmares."

"I'm glad," Shirley answered staring at her son. She hadn't 
realized until he had mentioned it that she hadn't needed to 
comfort him during the night.

"Dad was right. I need to get over it," Ted said. It was exactly the 
wrong thing to say to his mother, although he didn't know it. He 
sighed and said, "I've been hiding out in my room when I should 
have been doing something. I didn't realize it until last night when 
I was playing tag with those two little kids last night how much 
I've been hiding from the world."

"Oh," she said in a strangled voice. She stared at Ted trying to 
come to grips with what he was saying.

"I would like to talk to Harry about joining him in Karate lessons," 
Ted said. He looked up at his mother and asked, "Would that be 
okay?"

"Sure, that would be fine," she replied. Her brain was on autopilot 
with her mouth answering questions without the full engagement 
of her mind. Everything Ted was saying echoed the position of her 
husband. 

"Thanks. I'll call Harry after I'm done eating," Ted said. He 
looked at his mother for a minute hoping that she would have 
cheered up upon hearing that he was taking control of his life 
again. The look on her face suggested that she wasn't all that 
pleased. Frowning, he asked, "What's the matter mom? You look 
upset."

Shirley sat down and wondered how to answer the question. She 
took a sip of her coffee and put the cup down. For a minute, she 
stared at the cup. Ted watched her avoid his question becoming 
even more convinced that he was the reason she was upset. 
Concerned, he asked, "What's that matter?"

Shirley took a deep breath and, coming to a decision, she 
answered, "Your father and I had an argument last night. He left 
and I have no idea where he is."

Shocked, Ted stared at his mother while she broke down into tears. 
He knew that his mother and father occasionally had spirited 
discussions, but never anything that would have caused one of 
them to leave. He wondered if they were going to divorce. The 
idea that the family was going to break up was just too horrendous 
to consider. 

Until the attack, the family wasn't all that comfortable with 
showing physical affection. Many people would have considered 
their house to be a rather cold and unfeeling home, but that was 
just how it was. After the attack, his mother gave him plenty of 
hugs and Ted had become used to it. Rising, he went around the 
table and hugged his mother. He said, "I'm sure he'll come back."

Shirley was sure that Daryl loved her. She never really doubted 
that for a moment. The problem was that he hadn't called or let her 
know that he was safe. She was sure that he was lying dead in 
some alleyway. She cried, "I don't even know if he's still alive."

Ted had a lot of faith in his father. His father always handled 
difficult situations with great ease. Nothing seemed to prevent his 
father from doing what was necessary. As a result of that faith, Ted 
was sure that his father was still alive. He shook his head and said, 
"Don't talk that way. Dad always handles things in just the right 
way."

"He sure hasn't handled your situation the right way," she retorted 
without thinking of what she was saying.

"What do you mean?" Ted asked with a puzzled expression on his 
face. He knew his father had asked him to do things that he didn't 
want to do, but the advice was valid. The entire trip the previous 
evening was his father's idea and it had helped.

"That whole act like a man bullshit," she said.

"That's not bullshit. I have to grow up to be a man," Ted said 
staring at his mother. 

"What?"

"I'm going to have to support a family one of these days. Dad is 
teaching me how to do that. I can't avoid my responsibilities 
because I'm scared. I have to face my fears and fulfill my 
obligations. That is what a man does," Ted answered.

"You're just a child," she said looking at Ted in horror.

"I'm sixteen. In two years, I could get married and start raising a 
family. I'm not saying that is what I'm going to do because I'm 
more responsible than that. The fact of the matter is that my days 
as a child are numbered and the number is very small. Dad is 
telling me to grow up."

"But you were attacked!"

"If Dad was attacked, do you think he would stop going to work? 
Do you think he would stop mowing the grass? Do you think he 
would stop making sure that we were all right?" Ted asked. Unlike 
a lot of kids his age, he felt that his father was a good role model. 
His father was always there for them when he was needed. There 
were times when he was amazed at how steady his father was in a 
crisis.

"No, he wouldn't."

"That's what Dad has been saying to me. I need to get my act 
together and get on with my life," Ted said. Missing the final 
weeks of school had been one of the worst acts that Ted had ever 
committed. In terms of meeting his responsibilities, he had failed 
believing that his father wouldn't have failed. 

"But, you're too young," his mother said. She couldn't believe that 
she was hearing her husband's words from Ted's mouth. 

Ted broke off his hug and went back to his seat. Pushing the bowl 
of cereal away, he said, "No. Do you know how much missing the 
last week of school hurt me?"

"You were recovering from the attack," she said.

"I was physically able to make it to the school. I could have taken 
the exams and probably made reasonable scores, but I didn't. I 
stayed in bed wallowing in my misery and that only made me more 
miserable. I ended up with a B average in every subject when I 
should have gotten A's," Ted said in self disgust. His father had 
suggested that he return to school, but his mother had put her foot 
down on the issue. Ted had gone along with his mother because he 
was feeling weak. 

"You can't be serious," Shirley said. 

Ted looked down at his hands and said, "I haven't gotten a B since 
sixth grade. Now I got five of them all because I wouldn't force 
myself out of bed for two days. I wasn't even sick so I can't use 
that excuse."

"You had been attacked and needed time to come to grips with 
what had happened to you."

"I had enough time. I just didn't use that time to deal with the 
problem," Ted said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. He looked 
down at his bowl of cereal with a frown. The cereal was soggy. He 
hated soggy cereal. Looking back up at his mother, he said, "I 
think I'll mow the lawn today."

The sudden change in subject was jarring. Shirley examined her 
son trying to figure out what was going through his mind. It didn't 
make sense. She said, "Forget about the lawn."

"No. You and Dad have to deal with your problem. I'll mow the 
lawn so that you can talk," Ted replied. He stood and carried the 
bowl of soggy cereal to the sink. He turned to leave the kitchen and 
said, "Let me know when Dad gets home."

His father's voice came from behind him. "I'm home." 
<1st attachment end>


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