Date: Tue, 17 Jul 2007 07:52:05 -0700 (PDT) From: crispin emrys Subject: Crispin-and-Zephyr/Part-1-Crispin/Chapter-5-revised These fictional stories are the product of my imagination. However, nothing happens in a vacuum. Like most fiction, it is based on real people I have met, places and events I have seen. The Prologue and Chapters 1-13 appeared on Nifty this winter. They have been extensively revised (especially Prologue and Chapter 13) and Chapter 13 has been completed. I will post two per week then continue with Chapter 14. It may be against the law to read where you are because of its content or your age. Or you may feel uncomfortable reading it because of the belief systems you have accepted. Follow the dictates of your heart. If you do read this series, I hope you enjoy it. When this five part story is completed, it will have told the tale of one boy and one man and how their intimate relationship and love for each other led to the creation of a modern day legion of boy knights. These knights errant became young champions of human and social rights and defenders of the weak and the downtrodden. These Boy Knights of the Green Republic reveal the true meaning, purpose and power of boyhood. You may be aware of the etymology of the word knight, that it is derived from the Old English cniht, meaning page boy, or servant, or simply boy. Knighthood, as in the Old English cnihthad, had the meaning of adolescence, that most intriguing period between childhood and manhood. In this sense every boy is a knight, and in my estimation a potential knight errant. Copyright 2007 Crispin Emrys. All Rights Reserved. This series may be displayed on any website so long as no money is charged for access and attribution is retained. Just ask permission first. Thanks. This project is dedicated to Guy Davenport, a gentle genius and unsurpassed writer of short stories who died in 2005, to every Crispin and Zephyr in this or any other world, and to you the reader that you may be encouraged by it. I am Crispin Emrys at crispinemrys@yahoo.com. Feel free to contact me. I always enjoy hearing from my readers. Crispin and Zephyr Part 1 - Crispin Chapter 5 - Revised March, 1999 Boulder, Colorado The flight from San Francisco to Denver was pretty full considering that it left at the ungodly hour of 6:45 on a Saturday morning. Crispin found his seat with little difficulty and stowed his carryon in the overhead bin. He had a middle seat, although he would have preferred a window of course. No matter, he had brought along the Times and a good book to keep him occupied. On the bright side the seats on either side of him remained unoccupied even as the flight crew prepared to shut the cabin door and begin their safety instruction litany. He decided he would grab the window as soon as the plane began to taxi. Immediately after taking his seat Cris looked up just as a young boy entered the cabin and headed up the aisle, obviously hunting for his assigned seat. Crispin was almost hyperaware of boys. His boydar, as he called this gift, was always set on very high and little having to do with boys escaped its finely tuned instrumentation. This shaggy blond cutie, who appeared to be about eleven or twelve, stopped at an aisle seat five rows up on the opposite side. He was dressed jeans that nicely outlined his well proportioned legs and ass, a not-overly-large deep orange tee shirt that just covered the top half his boyish butt and over this he sported a well worn denim jacket. Cris surmised he may have been a University of Texas fan, since the color of the tee was the burnt orange that was so ubiquitous in Austin. Around his neck he wore a very white puka shell necklace which contrasted very nicely against his dark skin, which Cris could not determine whether this was the result of a tan or natural skin color. On one shoulder he carried a small backpack which he stowed in the luggage compartment above. As the boy stretched to his height in order to reach the compartment, Cris was able to get a better view of him. He definitely liked what he saw. As people continued getting settled into their seats, Cris would periodically look up from his paper periodically to observe the boy, not only because he was nice to look at, but also because the boy kept turning around and looking back at Cris. It was as though he recognized him from somewhere and just wanted to talk him about something. So each time the boy moved around in his seat to look back, Cris caught this movement in his peripheral vision and looked up. Whenever Cris did that, the boy would quickly turn back around. This went on for several iterations as a few late arriving passengers found their seats and fumbled to stow their carryon luggage and get situated. At this point the cabin crew began their obligatory discussion of exits, oxygen masks and flotation devices. 'Dah,' Cris said to himself as the boy's motive finally became clear to him. 'He is stuck on the aisle and sees the empty window seat next to me. He is trying to get up the courage to ask about it.' Cris decided to let things take their course and opened the newspaper to the op-ed pages and quickly became engrossed. Suddenly, he sensed the boy looking at him again. However, this time when he leaned up and looked over his newspaper toward the front of the plane, the boy was gone. "Hi," said the treble voice to his left. Cris jumped slightly. Oops, caught off guard. Not something that happened very often to Cris. But to his utter surprise, the boy was now standing in the aisle next to his own row. The boy offered a sweet smile that appeared quite genuine. "If no one is going to sit in that window seat, could I?" He nodded his very cute face toward the seat as the said this. Cris smiled.. But what a question. Would Dr. Crispin Emrys Wyndham, famed adolescent psychologist and successful boy-at-risk counselor be willing to give up the chance to sit all alone and stare out of the window of a plane at 35,000 feet in order to sit next to a cute, blue eyed, blond kid, and look at him instead? Cris swept his head toward the window seat. "Absolutely," Cris said welcomingly, "climb in." "Gotta get my pack," the boy said. "It's above my seat. Be right back," and was gone in a flash. Cris observed him as he struggled to pull it from the overhead bin. Cris could see that the boy had as very lovely body to go along with his cute face. Then just as quickly he returned, pack in hand. Cris took hold of his pack and placed it under the seat for him, then helped him to climb around his knees to the window seat, gently guiding the boy by placing his hands on the his narrow waist. The boy had just snapped his seatbelt when the stewardess came over to make certain everyone was properly seated. "Will Jonathan be alright if he he sits next to you, sir? You know he is traveling alone." she asked. "Of course, not a problem at all. In fact I would be happy for the company," Cris responded with honesty. The stewardess nodded her head and smiled warmly and moved on down the aisle. As Cody sat back in his seat making himself comfortable, he shared with Cris, "My dad booked my flight at the last minute and I had to get whatever was left. I really like looking out the window." "So do I," said Cris. He immediately noticed the boy blush slightly, and realized that he might feel that he was stealing Cris's seat. So he quickly added, "But, I am really glad you can sit here next to me so I have someone to talk to". This very genuine response seemed satisfactory to the boy, because Cris saw his shoulders relax, at the same time he smiled his winning smile as his copper hued green eyes danced. Cris thought his eyes were stunning. "My name is Crispin, by the way, but people just call me Cris," Cris said as he offered his hand to the boy. The boy responded by firmly shaking his hand, "Hi. I'm Jonathan, but everyone calls me Cody, which is my middle name. Some of my teachers call me Jonathan, but I guess I don't really mind that much. I like the name Crispin. I remember it from a Shakespeare play. We saw the video at school." "Ah, yes. St Crispin's Day, Henry V. 'We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he that today sheds his blood with me shall be my brother, be he ne'er so vile. This day shall gentle his condition. And gentlemen in England, now abed, shall think themselves accursed they were not here; and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.' You see, Cody, I was born on St. Crispin's day, so my folks gave me the name." "Wow, that's really cool. That is my favorite part of the play," Cody said with a happy grin. "I think I was named after my great great something grandfather, at least the Jonathan part. He was a general in the Civil War. The Cody part was my mom's idea. I think she just liked the name. It was Buffalo Bill's last name and he is buried on Lookout Mountain in Golden, which is next to Denver. It's a neat place to go because they hang glide off of it." He quickly added, ."I mean the mountain, not the grave," a comment which made them both laugh. "Well, Cody is a good name and I think it fits you very well." Cody looked Cris directly in the eye with greater scrutiny, as if to measure where he was coming from, while his tanned checks reddened slightly. Cris had no intention of embarrasing the boy, only being honest with him, as was his way whenever he spoke with kids. "So, Cody, I take it that you are a Longhorn fan," Cris said nodding his head slightly toward the burnt orange tee shirt. "Naw, just like this color. But they're OK. Actually, I am not that big on football. I like soccer." "You and most of the world. Futball instead of football." It seemed that Cody understood the play on words, so Cris continued, "I guess since you are heading to Denver that you live there?" It was more of a statement than a question. "Yeah. Well, sorta, but not really. Not Denver exactly. I live in Aurora near the air force base. That's where my mom works." "Really? She's in the Air Force, I take it?" Cris asked, more to keep the conversation going than to be nosey. The boy's green eyes twinkled as he answered. "Yeah. She's a fighter pilot and flies an F-16." He was quite obviously very proud of her. "Wow," Cris said, honestly impressed. "That must really be a cool job. Has she ever taken you up in one?" To be sure Cris was surprised by the boy's answer to this question. Cody smiled his winning smile. "The only time was for my last birthday when I turned eleven. She had to do all kinds of things to get special permission. But since she is the second in command of the fighter training squadron, she did it. Actually, it was an F-16 trainer that was going to the Belgian Air Force. A real F-16 only has one seat. Boy, even though it was only a trainer, it was wicked," Cody said putting a strong emphasis on the last word, eyes sparkling. "I'll bet," agreed Cris. "You're a lucky guy. I'm envious." And he was. "I'm not really all that lucky," said the boy with an ebbing smile. Cody began telling Cris of his parents' divorce and the way it had affected him and his other siblings, both of whom had since grown up and left home, one for college and one in the Special Forces. He went on to explain that he was returning from a short visit with his dad whose mom had just died. He liked his grandma and all, he said, but didn't really enjoy his time in Walnut Creek because of the funeral and everyone being so sad and preoccupied. But since he did not see his dad very often, he didn't want to miss the chance, so he went. Crispin and Cody became pretty good talking companions after this initial interchange. Cody was very open and friendly, obviously very intelligent, quite articulate, with some pretty strong feeling about current events issues that were more adult than child-like. His vocabulary was still that of a child but his understanding and more than that, his heart was as big as any adult's Cris had ever met. For one thing he was very sensitive to situations in which kids suffered because adults used their power over them in the wrong way. This went along with Cris's own personal philosophy. Cris was surprised how mature Cody was in his awareness of the power imbalance between children and their adult care givers, parents and teachers alike. He often referred to these situations as "just not fair" or "just not right" in a conversational style free of the deadly jargon perpetrated by higher education. Yet, even when talking about these highly charged issues that he clearly felt very strongly about, he always remained soft spoken, projecting an inner calm and complete assurance that he was focusing on some universal truths. It was obvious that Cody would take the side of kids whenever they were in one of those ubiqitous battles with adults. This seemed to be part of the developmental process these days, one in which kids had to grow up by asserting themselves, but not necessarily being encouraged to do so. In fact sometimes they were reproved for speaking up. It is easier to have kids who just do what they are told. So they often had to fight to get their fair share of the power pie, whether it meant property or rights, or even caregiving and love. Cody clearly did not believe in the idea that children should just silently obey and just be responsible mini-adults, that kids should be seen and not heard. It was quite obvious that he was not opposed to making waves. And he was especially succinct in describing the arbitrary nature of many adult decisions, both within his school experiences and in the larger adult world beyond. It appeared that his mom, in spite of being a member of a military hierarchy, did not try to dissuade Cody from his strongly held views. Rather she had encouraged him to articulate them and think them through so that he would become a more effective advocate for those who did not yet have a voice. Crispin was naturally very impressed by all of this. More than that Cris was very much taken by this quietly spunky lad. How could he not be. He was not only a cute boy with a terrific personality, but he had a heart as big as all the outdoors. Yet, he was also a realist when it came to changing things for the better. He understood that improving things took much energy and time, and even then did not always turn out the way it could or maybe should have been. But in many ways Cody was also a typical early adolescent. He talked about school, friends or the lack of them, teachers, parents, divorce, suburban living, life at the malls, struggles that nearly any boy faced trying to prove himself while trying to keep out of trouble. He was very engaging and Cris enjoyed every minute of this interpersonal interaction. Finally, Cody slowed and looked hard at Cris with his lovely, but at the same time intense eyes. "I guess I have been talking too much. I never really gave you much of a chance to say anything." Cris smiled warmly. "Gee, Cody," he said, "I have thoroughly enjoyed having this opportunity to listen to you. You are so right in what you say. It's not everyday I find a boy who can talk about things as they really are." Cody nodded and smiled. "Wow. Most grown ups don't really listen to us kids very much. OK, well I want to fair, so now it's your turn," he said with some finality. Then he sat back ready to listen. So Cris began talking about himself, his early childhood in New York and Washington D.C., his own parent's divorce, his dad's move to California and later Hawaii, growing up living with his mom in suburban DC and Maryland, visits with dad, summers in Europe with mom, his first attempt at college then his travels to India, finally his return to university and eventually his career working with kids. "Wow, you sure have done a lot of things," exclaimed Cody, who was very impressed with such an exciting life, at least in contrast to what he saw as his own drab existence in his very small suburban world. He furrowed his forehead slightly and wrinkled his nose that was lightly dusted with freckles so that he looked especially adorable. "So, you work with kids like me to help them?" "Yes, I do." "Gosh, that is so cool. I know lots of kids who need some help because of their family problems or bad things that have happened to them or because they don't do good in school or get in trouble because they're mad and don't know how to get adults to help them." Cris nodded his head as he looked deeply into Cody's eyes, then he reached over and took the boy's hands into his own. Cody did not appear to mind this at all. "You are a very rare gift, Cody," Cris said with honest emotion. " I wish you the very, very best." Cody smiled and did not attempt to move his hands. After a few heavily charged moments, Cris released Cody's hands, brushed his right hand down the boy's left check, and settled back into his seat with a sigh. "Cris, will I get to see you again? I mean once we get to Denver?" asked Cody in a small and tremulous voice. What could Cris say. "Of course. I will be in Boulder about a week or so. I'm sure we can do something together. And don't forget, I might even move here." Cody's eyes lit up and he grinned. He looked at Cris one more time and then without any appearance of being self conscious, undid his seatbelt, leaned over and threw his arms around the the man who after a brief moment, wrapped his own arms around the boy's small but sturdy body. Cris rubbed Cody's back with both of his hands, reaching down as far as his very nicely shaped boy butt. They remained that way for a couple of minutes, until they realized once again where they were. ON top of that, there was the stewardess standing in the aisle asking if they wanted anything else to drink. The remainder of the flight was much more down to earth. They talked some more, exchanged addresses and phone numbers, talked about some of the things they could do when they got together over the next week, probably the next weekend, and otherwise just chatted amiably. When the flight deplaned Cody and Cris walked hand in hand together on the overhead walkway to the baggage claim. There Cody found his mom waiting, still in her uniform. He ran up to her and threw his arms around her for a huge and powerful huge. After a few minutes, he ran over and pulled Cris by the hand to meet his mom, Major Theresa Clarke, who asked to be called Terri. They chatted for a bit and Cody went on in a excited rapid manner about Cris and their plans to meet up again. Terri seemed very at ease with this and in fact said how pleased she was the he and Cris had met. With quick airport like hugs between Cris and Cody, and what actually turned out to be a natural half hug and peck on the check between Cris and Terri, the Clarkes were off. Gwen was often late so Cris was in not hurry as he slowly gathered up his luggage and headed toward the exit. She called him on his cell and explained that she was just a few minutes away and suggested he wait outside by the baggage claim exit to the parking garage. He only had a wait about ten minutes before she pulled up in her very stylish silver BMW.