Always trying to fit into daddy’s shoes, daddy’s clothes, daddy’s life. Who even are you, Billy?
Billy tried to push himself awake from the dream, but it pushed back. Who was that, in the dark? Who was talking to him?
Who are you?
“I don’t know.”
Who do you want to be?
“I don’t know!”
He sat up suddenly, gasping for air. His head ached like he was in the middle of the worst hangover of his life. He sat up on the asphalt–the really god-damn cold asphalt. Where was he even? He looked around–it seemed like an alley somewhere downtown. He was hidden from view in sidewalk between two dumpsters…and he was naked. Completely naked. He looked around for clothing, and clothing, but there was nothing to be found around him; he peeked out around the dumpsters, but the alley was similarly devoid of anything that might be his. He stood up, being careful where he put his bare feet, and looked around. There was an unmarked door behind him–had he come out of there? He knocked, and then pounded, and when no one answered, he was almost thankful. What would they do, if they found some random guy in the back alley, naked, pounding on their door, asking for his clothes back? They’d call the police for sure. What in the hell was he going to do anyway? He couldn’t exactly just stay here all day–he was bound to be discovered at some point. But if he left, then what? He’d get arrested for sure. He was stuck.
It was just a bit past dawn. If he hurried, maybe he could get to somewhere that might have something he could wear. He should at least look around the alley a bit more, in case his stuff was somewhere nearby. What had he been wearing, anyway?
He couldn’t remember.
He couldn’t remember anything about the night before.
No…No, it was worse than that. He couldn’t remember anything about himself, either. Just a name. Billy…no, people just called him Billy, his name was William Jr., named after his father…right? At least, that made sense. But why would he remember that, and nothing else? He couldn’t remember his father either in any real detail. He couldn’t keep thinking about this, he couldn’t. He had to focus on finding something to wear, and then he could worry about…whatever was wrong with him.
He took one last glance down the alley in both directions, and then scampered around, looking in various nook and crannies nearby, but there wasn’t anything at all wearable, whether it was his or not. He was rummaging about when he heard the grumble around the corner, looked up like a rat, and saw the bright headlights of a trash truck bearing down on him.
“Fuck.”
There was nowhere to go, and nowhere to hide. He could see the man in the cab of the truck blinking at him, obviously confused, and Billy blushed red. The truck stopped, the door opened, and the man leaned out the window. “Rough night, eh man?”
What should he say? What should he do? “Y-Yeah, I suppose so.”
It would be so much easier to know if he was lying or not, if he could just remember what he’d been doing in the first place.
The garbage man opened the door and climbed down. “Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time I’ve found someone naked in the alleys around here. Lots of guys get too drunk and their friends abandon them around here as a prank.”
That did make sense…sort of. Assuming he’d been out with friends, of course. “Look…I’m just trying to find my clothes, but I haven’t found anything.”
“No worries man, I can help you look.”
Together, the two of them prowled the alley for about ten minutes, but neither of them found anything. The guy asked him what he’d been wearing the night before, and Billy bluffed. He had no idea what he’d been wearing, so he just said it had been jeans and a t-shirt. It didn’t really matter, because there wasn’t anything in the alley to wear at all.
“Well dang man,” the garbage man said, taking off his hat and scratching his messy, shoulder length hair. “Maybe they’re planning on coming back to find you?”
“I don’t know…maybe…”
“Well, I have something at least, though it’s kind of gross. I always keep an extra set of coveralls with me in the truck, and I just wear whichever one is cleaner. Problem is, I haven’t washed either of ‘em lately, so they’re both pretty nasty. Still, its better than nothing, right?”
Billy looked him up and down. The coveralls the guy had on already looked filthy, with a name tag peeling off that read, “Derek”–he wasn’t sure he wanted to see what the other pair looked like. Still, what choice did he have, really? “I mean, I guess that’ll have to do, right?”
Derek climbed back up into the cab, rummaged around for a moment, and returned with a crumpled ball of fabric, which he shook out into a pair of coveralls. It was a bit of a toss up to say which one was grimier–both were obviously supposed to green, but were more of a mottled brown. This one, had a name tag on it too. “Damn, when’s the last time you washed them?”
He shrugged, “I don’t get to the laundromat often. If you don’t want ‘em, you can be naked for all I care. You’ve already made me late, so do you want them or not? It’s better than being buck naked like you are now, right?”
That was a good point. He took the coveralls from them, tried to ignore how crispy they were in his hand, pulled them on and zipped up, careful of his cock, but as soon as the zipper hit his neck, it was like some strange shock ran through him, and he looked at Derek, who looked at him back. His eyes were vacant, like he wasn’t quite aware of what was going on around him, one hand pawing at his crotch.
“Get…on your knees.”
Bracken's Corner 