Date: Thu, 14 Jul 2011 14:01:57 -0400 From: wild wing Subject: FW: David's Northern Adventures Chapters 1 and 2 This is a reposting of a story that first appeared at Nifty in November 2010. My thanks to Nifty for graciously allowing me to replace the original with this revised version, and to A. B. for his work in editing the story. This is a love story between an adult and a gay youth as well as a coming of age story. Although slow to develop there are descriptions of consensual sex. Consider yourself warned. DAVID'S NORTHERN ADVENTURES CHAPTER ONE My lure landed softly beside a lily pad. I waited a moment, then slowly retrieved my line. The presentation was perfect and I held my breath expecting that at any moment a good sized fish, perhaps even a tackle buster, would strike. It didn't happen. In fact the whole damn week had been a washout in more ways than one. I really wasn't that upset though. For Pete's sake here I was on a wilderness lake with five hundred kilometres between me and the big city. This was God's country and a little rain and a lack of fish were not going to upset my upbeat mood. Still I had a deadline to keep. My editor expected me to produce a four or five page story with pictures on the 'can't miss' fishing on Wanigoda Lake in Northern Ontario and in his words `it better be good.' Like a lot of teenagers I had graduated from high school without a clue as to which way to turn next. I knew I loved the out-of-doors and fishing in particular. I saved some money from a part-time job and went to college and took some creative writing courses. From there I wrote a couple of fishing stories, mostly from personal experiences but with a liberal addition or two, and pretending to be much more experienced than I really was, boldly submitted them to several major outdoor journals and magazines. Most of the editors saw through me. A couple however took the time to point out errors in my work and encouraged me to resubmit. I kept writing, occasionally changing my alias, and one magic day I received an acceptance letter. Now some fifteen years later I was not rich but with three editors to please, a book in print on wilderness fishing and some fortuitous investments, I was comfortable. My thoughts were interrupted by the strike I had been waiting for all day. The fish headed down and I kept the rod high, keeping constant tension on the line. I realized fairly quickly that he wasn't that large but since it was the first fish of the day I played him as if he were a record breaker. That is I did until my cell phone began to ring. Holding the rod with one hand I grabbed the phone with the other. I flipped it open and asked the caller to `please hold.' I quickly horsed the fish in, saw that I had about a fifteen inch pickerel, released him carefully and picked up the phone. "Hello. Thank you for holding." "Robert it's Ned here. How are you? Did I catch you at a bad time?" "You sure did," I responded. "You caught me in the middle of catching my hundredth fish today." "Wow," he marvelled. "You really found a hot spot!" "I wish I were telling the truth," I confessed. "In fact that was the first fish I've had on the line today. What's up?" Ned was a member of our private poker club. I had been a pretty fair athlete in high school and six of us including Ned had formed a pretty close bond. When we graduated we decided to stay in touch by having a poker party on the third Friday of every month. Each of us would host the party about twice a year and after fifteen years five of us were still playing. "Listen," said Ned, "you know it's my turn to host this Friday. You coming?" "Of course," I responded. "I gotta get even for last time." "Then bring some decent Canadian beer, not that piss water American crap you buy," he laughed. "You called me all this way to complain about my beer, you dickhead?" I had to admit that even after all these years we still enjoyed acting the jocks we had once been. "No, the real reason I called is that I have a serious problem and I believe you can help me." I could feel the sudden tension in his voice. However I was pleased that he still thought enough of me to seek me out with the problem and I told him so. "Name it, my friend. How can I help?" "I really don't want to discuss it over the phone. Can I impose and ask you to meet me for a drink on Thursday?" Ned queried. "You paying?" I said tongue in cheek. "Of course. Did you ever pay for anything you could get for free?" We both chuckled, lessening the seriousness of the moment. "Do you know where Angelo's bar is?" he asked. I responded, "That's that upscale watering hole at the corner of Yonge and Winston isn't it?" "That's the one," he agreed. "Meet me there about ten after twelve." After a few more pleasantries the conversation was over. As I cast my line out once more I was left wondering, what could be so important that he wanted a private meeting? and how could I help? CHAPTER TWO I hated the city at the best of times. To avoid the traffic I parked my car in a transit lot well north of the city line and took public transport. At five to twelve I strode into Angelo's. Surprisingly Ned was already there. He waved me over with his copy of the Wall Street Journal to a secluded spot in the corner. For those of us whose goal in life was the American dream Ned was probably the most successful in our group. Graduating high school at the top of his class he had been accepted by the local university law school. He graduated cum laude, was hired by a major downtown law firm and had carved out an extremely lucrative career. Dressed impeccably in his twelve hundred dollar suit he rose to greet me and warmly shook my hand. Grasping his drink of choice, a scotch and water, he pointed me to a seat and added, "I'm really happy you could make it today." "I must admit that I'm intrigued as to the purpose of this get-together. But let me order a drink first." "Oh sorry," he said. "Of course. What would you like? Everything is on me." "Well," I quipped, "I understand they have some fine American beer here." Ned chuckled. "If you're going to stick to beer let me recommend a great German pilsner they serve here." "Done," I responded. The beer was served and we continued with the small talk. I knew the conversation was about to turn serious. It didn't take long. He looked me in the eyes and began. "It's about my son David. I'm really worried. About eight months ago I noticed him turning inward. He became very melancholy and spent large amounts of time in his room. He stopped seeing his friends even though they still wanted to see him. He also ignores his hobbies and even at the dinner table he rarely communicates." "I wouldn't worry too much," I offered. "Lots of teenagers go through spells like that and then they suddenly snap right out of it." "Oh, no," Ned interrupted, "you're thinking of Ned Junior, my oldest boy. He's fine. David is my youngest boy. He doesn't turn twelve for another two weeks." "Oh," I responded. "Now I see your concern." "Both my wife and I have tried talking to him and he just runs to his room. I was so exasperated that I took him to an expensive private shrink. He stormed out and refused to return." "Do you have any idea as to the problem?" I asked. "Yes I do. I think......." He stopped in mid sentence, waited a moment and then took another sip of his drink. "Look even though he's only eleven he's a very bright boy, advanced for his age. I think he's having sexual orientation problems." "You think he may be gay?" I said solemnly. "Well.......yes." Ned stared at me intently. I didn't say a word. I felt it was my duty to allow Ned to recompose himself and finish his train of thought. Finally he went on. "Look I don't care what he is. I know it's not his choice. I just want him to be happy and to accept himself. I want my happy-go-lucky boy back. Somehow I've lost his trust and it's killing me." He paused again and took another sip of his drink. I knew he still wasn't finished. "Let's be blunt for a change. I know you're gay. Hell in fact the whole poker club knows you're gay. And what's more we all realized long ago that you know that we know you're gay." Certainly I wasn't surprised, nor was I upset by his comments. They were a relief in fact. I suggested, "You want me to talk to him?" "Well yes........and no," he said confusingly. "If you just talk to him he'll just get up and run to his room. We'll have to be subtle about it." He took another sip of his drink and then with a nod of his head ordered a refill. "Robert, we've been friends for many many years. I respect you. Many a day I envy your lifestyle. David loves the outdoors and fishing too....at least he used to. Please don't think me forward but I was hoping you could find a way to take him on one of your excursions. You're intelligent and kind. I know you would do nothing to hurt him. Anything you can do to make him realize that we love him no matter what would make my wife and me forever indebted to you. I'll pay for the whole trip. I'll......." "Enough already," I interrupted. "I get the picture." It was my turn to pause and take a drink. "It just so happens that I have an editor who's been pressing me to do an article on taking a son on a first time fishing expedition to a wilderness trophy lake. I've turned the assignment down till now because I had no son to take. I'm sure he'll allow me the leniency of taking David as a 'son.' And by the way the magazine will foot the entire bill." Ned's gratitude was palpable. I would show up an hour early for the poker night and we'd take it from there.