Patches

"You bastard! You BASTARD! Why am I only hearing of this now? So what, now I have to cope with staying here AND doing all the dirty work for those filthy creatures all weekend?"

"Jen, do you actually hear yourself? They are NOT "creatures", they are people like you and me! And its only for two days, I didn't exactly ask the Bishop to send me for an interview at another Parrish in the middle of winter!"

"Yeah, go on! Tell it like it is, why don't ya! Tell me how the village folk are so fed up of me, that they are doing their best to get rid of us. Because that's what you really wanna say, isn't it? Go on! I don't care what TRASH thinks of me!"

I clenched my teeth, so the point that it actually started to hurt.

Yes, to be honest, Jen's way of life was beginning to hurt my status as vicar of the village and whilst I was pretty sure I still had the respect from the community and the backing of the Bishop, things seemed to escalate a few weeks back when mu wife, came to the soup kitchen in the community hall, drunk as a skunk, and made the most horrible scene she possibly could have.
Insulting the homeless and poor folk to the point where she was dragged home drunk, was just about the icing on the cake.

I hated to take Thomas, my ten year old son, out of his comfortable environment and in where he grew up in. And I knew that where ever we went, Jen was not gonna suddenly stop wth her drinking and her disgusting attitude. Not until I can give her the life she wants, in saying that, full of cash, endless shopping trips and of course, a huge house and the golden status as a kept wife.

We only got married in the first place as she was pregnant with Thomas when we were both fifteen years of age, and my father who was the vicar at the time, forced me to man up and do the right thing.

And then there was the secret that no one, not even Jen, nor Thomas knew about...the very same one that could cost me my career and livelihood...that I was living a lie, had been for twenty-five years.

That I, Vicar Josh Adams, was gay, and had lost the love of his life at fifteen, Tommy, after whom my son was named, after it came out that I got Jen pregnant at my fifteenth birthday party.
To this day, I still couldn't remember even so much as touching her, but Thomas was the spitting image of me, so I guess that settled that argument.

"Jen, I'm taking Thomas with me. We'll only be gone the weekend. So, apart from feeding the homeless, which you have the cooks and the village folk to help you with anyway, you don't have to do a thing. So I don't know where these, these tantrums are coming from. We have to get ready, our bus will be here in a few minutes."

"Bring me back some wine, will ya?" Jen said as she turned the telly back on. My God...just keep me from saying something I'd really regret...

* * *

Chelsea was a beautiful place. A little weird seeing all the blue half of London paraded all over the place, especially when me and Thomas were devout Manchester United fans. The kittle ten year old tyke didn't quite know where to look, and at what to look first, his eyes was literally everywhere. This being his first time out of the village and our surrounding rural areas into an actual big city must have been great for him. A real adventure.

He had such a tough hold on my hand though, that he almost gave me a bruise. As excited as he must have been, he also knew what I'd never find him in a million years if he got lost around here. I took him to have some lunch, just good old fish and chips with a small soda, since money was still a little tight and the cost of the bus ride to Chelsea was more than I had budgeted for.

Seeing all of this through the eyes of an innocent child, was much more awesome and enthralling than I ever thought possible. Thomas was my world. I worked, loved and breathed for him.

* * *

The interview went reasonably well, I was forced to leave out that my wife was addicted to alcohol, because that would be the deal clincher, wouldn't it?

No, I wanted to get the job on merit, and my portfolio was strong. My grandfather, father and now me, were all vicars of a Parrish, and it certainly gave me a solid heads up against the other applicants.

Armed with Thomas at my side, we said goodbye to Chelsea, as well as our little adventure and hopped back onto the bus which would take us back home.

It was rather a long drive to be fair, and after the novelty of a bus ride warmed off, Thomas was asleep for majority of it, whilst I had my Stephen King to read, and made some conversation with the handsome, and dared I say it, openly gay man who sat next to us on the bus.

I tried my best to stay neutral and focus on the chat, but it was tough since he was a virtual stud in his own right, with blonde hair, greenish eyes and the most charming smile you ever did see. White teeth and his dimples, completed the stunning artwork in human form.

I wasn't wearing my traditional vicar's clothing, so I could have sworn he was totally laying on the charm, just a little too thick, and Lord help me, I would have been more than willing to have a quick romp, if I was the sort of bloke who did that. Instead, I managed to steer the convo in a new direction, each time it appeared that he wanted to...well...get deeper with me.

As we eventually pulled into the nearby towns, close to home and dropping several passengers off on the way to the final stop, which was mine and Thomas's, the young man stood up and got his bags from the upper compartment. He also took out his wallet, and withdrew a business card, which he handed to me.

"Gimme a call sometime. We'll have fun," he said, his eyes firmly on my crotch as he turned around and got off the bus.

For the first time since Tommy, I had just gotten any kind of real sexual attention from a male...and I got to say...it felt mighty GOOD. And a cute little birdie seemed to whisper inside my ear …hey, you still got it...which I laughed off silently.

Gently waking Thomas up, telling him we were nearly home, he sat up bright and rested, once more with that kiddie smirk on his dial, as more and more recognizable features and structures came into view. Typical of a ten year old, he had to point out every familiar feature to me, at the top of his voice.

Bless.

As the bus made its final stop at the community hall, me and Thomas got our belongings and made our way out of the bus.

"Just a second, Vicar!" the bus driver called me over as Thomas was already outside.

"I'll be out in a minute, buddy, just wait right there," I told Thomas and he eagerly nodded.

"Vicar, as you know, my wife is heavily pregnant, and I was wondering if you could come over one afternoon and just, you know, give her, or us, your blessing. We have been trying for so long, to have a kid and it has always been a disaster. Now, this is probably our last chance. Please Vicar?"

"Don't you worry, Friend. I'll make sure I find the time. God bless."

I wished those two every bit of success they got, what with three miscarriages in their entire marriage...this time it really was their final chance, I didn't know how much more agony one family could endure.

Getting off the bus, I looked around for my son, but he was no where to be seen.

"Thomas? Thomas!"

Where was he? I told him to wait outside the bus...

"Thomas! Has anyone seen my son?"

The things and thoughts that suddenly flooded through my brain ...oh God, has he been kidnapped? It's not like I had money...or did he run away from home because of Jen and her drinking? Could his kiddie heart not handle her rejection any more?

"THOMAS!"

"Vicar, he's over there! I saw him run in the direction of the community hall!" one woman shouted towards me and pointed towards the building.

"Oh God, thank you, Carys!" I yelled back and stormed my way over to the hall, not even caring that I left my baggage behind at the bus stop.

As I entered the hall, my eyes flooded through the place, and I immediately saw my son. The little devil...oh...it was with WHO he was, that really shocked me.

After all these weeks...could it be...?

"Patches? Is that you?"

The handsome homeless man looked up at me, and tried to smile, but his injured face couldn't do it justice.

"Someone hurt him, Daddy!" came Thomas's first words to me, since I had found him.

"Thank you, son, I can see that."

I pulled up a chair and sat myself down next to Patches. I finally got a good look at his face...dried blood everywhere, he had a black eye and a swollen lip, combined with his long hair being dirty, and full of mud, as could be. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept much in days.

My heart sunk...when we last saw each other, he almost died of hyperthermia, and he would have too, if he didn't happen to knock at the only house in the village that still had their lights on, which was mine.

After he had a nice warm, long bath and myself and Thomas gave him something to eat, I had insisted that he stayed the night, but Patches was absolutely adamant, he wanted to go, saying he belonged outside, and not with us.

I have felt massive ounces of guilt over letting this handsome fella walk out of my house for weeks now, and I'd be lying if I said, I hadn't frantically searched for him every weekend when we handed out soup and food parcels.

No luck each time, I had even told Thomas to come and tell me if he ever spotted the nice homeless man that we had met. And that's...of course...why Thomas must have disobeyed my orders...he had probably seen Patches go into the community hall and wanted to help him, since Patches was clearly injured!

I loved my boy, but in that moment, I loved him more than life itself.

"What...who...did this to you?" I asked Patches softly, holding on to evert inch of my will power not to hug him closely to me.

"Ah this, it was nothing, Vicar! Wrong place, wrong time. I'm just sorry, that the hoodie and stuff you gave me last time is all gone, fuckers nailed me whilst I was taking a quick wash in the park's toilets. I had soap and all. Should have known. Can't trust a damn Scouser."

Dear God. Why was there so much poverty in this world?

"Did you already have something to eat, at least?"

"A lady gave me an apple earlier. Was enough. I knew it was Saturday and this place would probably be open. Cuppa soup would go down awesome right now..." Patches said, trying in his own way to make light of it, but the pain on his face stopped that right in it's tracks.

That was it. I don't care what Jen had to say. That house was in MY name. MINE. I wasn't going to leave him here, like this. He needed me.

"Thomas, help me get him up. You're coming home with us."

"Yay!" Thomas yelled out so loud people's head were turning.

"Uhm...hell no. No way. Your wife ain't gonna like that, Vicar. Nuh uh."

"I don't care what she says. You're coming, end of discussion."

"What if I don't want to? You can't...ouch...you can't force me!" Patches argued, his face grimacing with pain.

If stubbornness was an illness, he'd already be a sheer six feet under.

"In your condition, I think I can. Besides, you're not gonna disappoint my son, are you? Look how he excited he is!"

Thomas was indeed already taking Patches's hand and gently starting to pull him towards the exit.
The latter man sighed loudly and cringed as his sore stomach muscles must have given him even more pain.

"Okay. Alright. But just for a little while. I ain't wanting no trouble between you and the missus."
Inch, by mere inch, me and Thomas had managed to get Patches out of the community hall, which was quite an achievement since he couldn't even walk properly. How he had gotten to the village in the first place was a sheer miracle.

Jen was already outside waiting with our family car, ready to pick us up and take us home from the Chelsea trip. So now, imagine her reaction when she saw her husband and her child, almost carrying out a homeless individual...

"Where are you two going with...that?" she spat out as we got closer.

"Jen, he needs our help. Look at him. We're taking him home."

"Like hell you are! Our house is a dump already, now you wanna bring more shit in there?" Jen sneered towards Patches.

"Vicar, it's okay, I can go..." Patches whispered in my ear, his warm, surprisingly, odourless breath giving me goosebumps like I had never experienced before.

"NO. NO! Jen, if you don't like my decision, tough! I had just had to schlep all the way to Chelsea for a job interview because people here cannot STAND you any longer! So do NOT tell me what I can, and cannot do in my own home! Thomas, help me and let's get him inside the car."

Never during our ten years of marriage had I ever dared to speak to Jen like that. I knew I'd have to pay for it at some stage, but right now, my focus was on helping Patches.

Once he was inside, Thomas got in beside him. Jen's scowl hadn't subsided as she, as glamorously as she could, got into the front seat, as to trying to save what ever face she had left. Lastly, I got in and swiftly drove us home in silence.

* * *

"Thomas, get me some more warm water. Throw this out, yeah?" I whispered to my son as I gave him the bowl of used water that I had cleaned up most of Patches' injured face with.

As I re-entered my bedroom, there he was, looking...so defenseless, so vulnerable, so angelically beautiful...and for the utmost time I asked myself...what on earth went wrong in this man's life to have him end up like this? On the streets, always in fights, hence his name, Patches...

He smiled as saw me.

"Will I live, Vicar? What's the diagnosis?"

I returned his smile and sat down on the bed next to him. I sneakily reached out my hand and placed the palm on his forehead. He was a little warm, but nothing to be worried about. His skin made contact with mine, and I swear it was like a electrical current zipping through my veins...

"Diagnosis is, you're gonna make a full recovery once you get something in your stomach! Can I help you up, are you in pain?"

"Yes Mum...and not at the moment, Mum!" he cackled as if it was the funniest joke on Earth.

"Get inside the kitchen, you!" I laughed and patted him on the back. We both made our way into said kitchen, where the succulent smells of freshly baked bread as well as a pasta salad and fried chicken was waiting for us.

Did Jen cook all this? I mean, it's not like she couldn't, but surely not in her current state?

Nevertheless, my darling wife was at the dining table, and Thomas was helping her place the silver cutlery in it's rightful places.

"Oh man...now I feel awful...you guys shouldn't have done this much trouble for me..."

"It's not trouble at all. This is how normal folk eat lunch, see? Sit down, and enjoy. I have an appointment though, so I can't join you guys. What a real shame. Bon appetit!"

"Hey, Jen! What appointment is this?" I asked, keeping my voice low, because I had a sickening feeling she was making up excuses to get away from Patches, and even more sad, she wasn't even trying to hide it..

"Uhm, yeah, it's called "None of your Business". If you can keep things from me and do stuff I don't agree with, then so can I. Later, Sweetheart."

That woman. She'd be the death of me yet.

* * *

It was an absolutely gorgeous meal. Everything always tasted heavenly when enjoyed with people you actually wanted to spend time with. That was pretty obvious.

Thomas totally ousted his mother when he told us that he helped Jen warm up the bread, gotten from the local market, and the rest of the food was all take out from the village bed and breakfast.

I inwardly cringed at how much all of this had cost, done in sworn revenge for me basically going against her wishes, and it was not like Jen knew that Patches was coming for dinner. Hopes that she must have done all this for us three to have a meal together...perhaps, just perhaps, there was still some decency inside her?

Nah.

I smiled happily as I saw how well Thomas and Patches were getting along. Thomas was normally a friendly boy anyway, but it did take some time for him to open up to strangers. And here these two were, chatting and making jokes as if they had known each other for years.

Now that Patches had been cleaned up and I have given him some of my own clothes to wear, he was like an whole new person. His smile was infectious, his laugh was brilliant and he had so many stories to tell. Only the good ones tho, he made sure of that being in a ten year old's presence, which I was thank full for.

All the soon it was nearing seven a clock, and Jen still wasn't home. I excused myself and Thomas, and swiftly gotten him ready for bed. After he had brushed his teeth and said his prayers, I opened up his favourite storybook, but before I could start to read, he stopped me.

"Daddy...can...Uncle Patches read to me tonight?"

Momentarily stunned, I closed the book and caressed his shoulder.

"I, uhm...I dunno buddy. I suppose we can ask him..."

"Please! Just one. Then I'll go to sleep. Promise!"

Manipulation 101. Kid must have gotten that from his mother.

Sighing, I stood up and walked back into the kitchen, from Thomas's bedroom. Patches was still sitting at the dining table, with his head placed on his arms.

"Hey, Friend. You okay?" I asked, as I gently reached out and touched his shoulder.

"What? Oh yeah...I'm okay. Damn, must have fallen asleep. Haven't had this much to eat in like...can't even remember."

He stretched out his arms...the sheer muscle on those biceps almost made me drool.

"Well, this is kinda embarrassing, so I'll just come out and say it...Thomas wants YOU to read him his bedtime story."

Patches blinked twice, never taking his eyes off me.

"Me? Really?"

"No worries, I'll just tell him you're way too tired, it's really no big deal..."

"You kidding me? After all you guys have done for me? Don't think I have forgotten how you two saved my life a few weeks back. I haven't. And I'd love to read to him. Anyway, I kinda dig the kid, so it's a win-win for all."

Astounded, but relieved, I signaled for Patches to follow me to Thomas. When we entered his room, Thomas sat up and held out his fist towards Patches.

"Awesome! Yeah! It's a cool story, you won't be bored!"

I had to hide a smile as Patches sat down carefully next to my son and started to read where Thomas showed him to. Of course I knew the words by heart, but hearing and listening to Patches say them, so solidly and even going as far doing his own voices to the characters, seeing Thomas curl up in delight, created such a warm, loving feeling inside my heart.

This...this is what I thought my life would be like, ten years ago. Me, Tommy, and the kids we always dreamed we would have. Us making turns to read them stories, teaching them right from wrong, making sure they were loved and cared for.

A tear escaped my eye. I didn't wanna show weakness in front of my son and even less in front of Patches, so I turned around and left the room.

I took a walk outside in our small get garden, with no sign at all from blossoms as it was winter and lightly snowing. The cold air sniped through me, but if Patches could handle it, so could I.
I felt a presence behind me. I turned around quickly and walked face first into Patches' body. My feet slipped from underneath me in the snow and I started to fall.

With the speed of a ninja, Patches grabbed hold of me and stopped me plunging down head first. I stumbled in trying to keep my balance and we both landed on a clump of snow on the cold frost. I felt a pair of hands gently squeeze my shoulders.

"You okay, Vicar?" he whispered.

Snowflakes kept falling on our bodies, especially our hands and faces which had no protection against the sheer cold.

His eyes, his beautiful turquoise coloured eyes...

"I'm...I'm more than okay..." I said before taking the plunge and planting my lips on his in a fierce rapid fire.

If I ever had thought that he was going to recoil away from me in sheer disgust, I was solemnly mistaken.

With a gentle flick of his hand, he pulled me upwards to him and cupped my cold face with his equally frozen hand.

Softly, he caressed the side of my face over and over, and I felt like melting into him, until I saw his lips heading towards my own. I captured his tired, cold lips with a desperate flood of passion, determined that our kiss would somehow, warm him up internally.

He held me very, very gently in his arms, as if I'd break if he allowed me to go free. His hands travelled upwards to my neck, and his eyes had fire inside those cold temperatures. He pulled me close to him and me, fully expecting him to snog me once more, all he did was place a lonely kiss on my forehead.

My whole entire body ached for him to do more, for me to do more.

"We can't. We...we just can't..."

I hugged him tighter against me. I didn't care how he smelled or how dirty or wet his clothes were at that moment. I just wanted him, only him. Nothing lese mattered.

He ran his fingers through my hair whilst still holding me tight, my head still tucked in snugly underneath his chin.

"We can't, Vicar. You're married. You have your faith. You have so any people who look up to you, respect you. I'm just some bum, who doesn't even know his real name..."

"You're so much more than that. From the first moment I saw you, there was something between us. I know it. You know it."

I felt a kiss on top of my hair.

"We can't, okay? Let's get inside, or this time YOU will be the one nearly freezing to death!"

With his arm around me, we slowly got up, and still in his warm, loving embrace, he led me back into the house. He grabbed the blanket that we had on the couch, mainly for Thomas when he fell asleep in front of the telly, and covered me up.

"There we are. All nice and warm. Like your heart..." Patches said, placing his hand palm slowly onto my chest.

"I can feel your heart beating..." he whispered.

"It's because you're holding me," I whispered back.

Cracking a smile, he turned around and grabbed his belongings.

"I have to go, the last bus comes at eight. I can't miss it."

"Wait, come on, Patches! You can't just leave? I mean...when...will I see you again?"

Patches came close, stood near to me, and once more, took both my hands inside his.
"I promise," he whispered, before letting go, and left at the back door.

Silently I sunk down onto the couch, the blanket still around me. I could still smell him, his own unique aroma, his essence, suddenly not so nauseating any more.

My whole life, I have wanted, searched for, and craved this. THIS! A home, a husband and a kid.
I could hear Jen arriving in our car outside. She had the music on full blast. Not a care in the world.

I had felt more intimacy and more happiness with a virtual stranger, than I had ever felt with Jen.

Didn't that just say it all?

* * *

"Come on, Thomas, you'll be late for school!"

"Oh, let him stay home, it's not like he's gonna become anything he ever wants to be. Should learn that from the get go," Jen added her two cents worth.

"He can be who ever he wants. He's a smart boy, if you bothered to notice."

"You were top of your class too back in the day. And look where we are now. Just saying, Josh! You could have done a lot better had you not chosen to preach to the masses."

Urgh...she makes me so damn MAD! I sent up a silent prayer to the Big Man upstairs for the use of the word, damn, and grabbed the newspaper, just to have something else to do.

My heart stopped momentarily. I literally couldn't breathe.

On the front page of today's newspaper, splattered across the page... were...

"HOMELESS MAN FOUND DEAD".

"Patches..." I whispered.